#previous requests

[ninjadoodleduck]

Webby and Gosalyn's first sleepover (note: Gosalyn's pajamas are basically Gosalyn's shirt and socks from the original 90's Darkwing Duck show)

ok! :V

[commandertartarsmoocher]

eggman pisses on the moon but its the nils statue idk

COMMANDER TARTAR'S SUPER LASER PISS

[jadecantcreate]

theyre holding hands……(and being shy about it)

hootsie and gricko doodles (mostly hootsie)

both requested by @nicohasperished !

[asexual-shelly]

alas, motivation granted me more ponies as was promised yesterday. A joyous occasion this is indeed

[1000sunnygo]

I did write the summary on the wiki lol - happy to see that people use it! On a separate topic, and if you're interested, I remembered another bonus story released for Jump Victory Carnival 2021 about Luffy and Law bug hunting for beetles (imgur /a/Txt6ayl). It hasn't been included in any of the volumes (like the rest of the JVC stories)

LMAOAOA

the image quality got significantly worse after lettering, here's the raw link (credits: @walrsu)

THIS NERD NAMED 4 BEETLES IN 2 PAGES (the 'welcome ⬆️' signboard HAHA)

+ Luffy's face in this panel 😭 I love him being a little shit with Law

This made my day, thank you again!

[pistachi0art]

-hey wait a minute

[cherryloveruwu]

-Whiter than a fish's throat, whiter than tits!

-Whose tits?

[seruadoric]

Will u do a getian fluff? (If ur still in the r1999 fandom ofc)

GETIAN , WHO ...

content warnings // fluff, various headcanon scenarios , romance ( can be perceived as platonic ) , gn!reader

notes // i absolutely fell in love with getian during notes on shuori, therefore i am very much ecstatic to write for him ♡ i actually have a lot more for him in mind, but i'm not going to be oversharing today ( im actually just too lazy to write )

word count // 580

GETIAN who wants to impress you - and he does that by playing music to you.

➜﹒due to his bone wand, getian is able to play multiple instruments at a time. he conducts a beautiful orchestra of harps, lutes, and drums. the music is extremely clear and loud, but it is beautiful all the same. he wants to share his passion of music with his loved one, and is delighted when you show a positive response.

you have never heard something quite like this, and it was as if he had put you in an infinite trance. the music is carefully orchestrated, harmonizing together perfectly. you'd doubt you would break out of this reverie before the music had come to a stop, the initial quietness returning.

getian's attentive eyes look towards you, in search of finding a reaction of some sort ... and he was delighted seeing your face light up, the soft sound of applause resonating. he cracked a smile, one that was barely even noticeable -

"your music never fails to put me at ease." you spoke, in which he replies with a nod. "i will be sure to play for you more, then"

GETIAN who invites you to fly with him, especially late at night.

➜﹒the nighttime is a perfect time to stretch his wings and get some fresh air. whether or not you have wings like him, he will invite you to fly to the highest building to have the best view of the city (or the wilderness).

"hold on tight, and don't let go." he warned, the sheer pressure of being so high up making his voice barely audible. getian's talons held onto the hem of your clothing, careful not to hurt you, or to rip them - "i won't be able to catch you if you fall."

you reckon you flew a few miles, before he finally placed you down. he perched on the branch of a tree only a few feet away, stretching his wings out. here, you could see the whole city in its glory - the lights of the streets, slowly flickering as time passed.

once each light dimmed down, it was only the moon and its stars to accompany you. he will eventually fly you back down, but for now he does not need to say a thing - just admire the stars in a comfortable silence.

GETIAN who gifts you trinkets and jewelries he might've found in the wilderness; they can vary from high-value objects or literal trash, but you will love them nonetheless.

➜﹒ there will be short periods of time where getian is away, which he makes it up to you by gifting the things he found on his adventures. really, they're just shiny and peculiar objects that he found tossed around, but he managed to make something good out of them. (by giving them to you!)

"emm ... getian, what's this?" your expression, tinged with both mystification and amusement, didn't go unnoticed by the feathered man. "for you." he pushed the trinkets to you, as if urging you to take them.

"help yourself, i have no need for them." he raises his wing to his face, letting you take your pick. among them, there were valuable stones like jade and crystals ... but what caught your eye was a makeshift ring; a pull-tab from a used can of dr. papper, long thrown away by its user.

"i'll take this one."

૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ zᶻ

[rawbin-hsr]

OMGGG Your latest smut fic is so amazing!!! The smut is absolutely delicious! but....the angst is breaking my heart so...could you please write a continuation or part two where the reader confronts Aventurine's dark internal thoughts and comforts them? A fic where they actually get him to believe that they love him for real, where they tell him that he's not a monster and that he wasn't ruining them.

You've got it ! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

Aventurine x Reader

You treat Aventurine with more respect than he deserves. (Part 2)

Read part 1 here !

CW: dehumanisation (internal, thoughts Aventurine has of himself, referring to himself as a “monster”), lots of mentions of death, passively suicidal Aventurine, violent imagery (through metaphors, nobody is actually physically harmed), intrusive thoughts, Aventurine thinks kind of vicious things about you (refers to you as "stupid", "brainless", "naive" etc), cursing.

Lmk if there’s anything else I should warn about !!

Small note: Spoiler alert sorry, but you will not completely fix Aventurine in this fic. Making any real progress would take YEARS. The trauma he's gone through and his beliefs about his own humanity are EXTREMELY deep-seated, just one conversation would not be enough to make him truly believe he was loved. Super sorry since I'm sure that's not what you wanted (you specifically requested they "truly get him to believe that they love him for real", but this does still end on a hopeful note so I hope you won't be too disappointed (•ᴗ•,, ) )

Sometimes Aventurine gains enough clarity to remember where he stands. More importantly, he gains enough clarity to remember where you should stand. That is to say, as far away from him as possible. Unfortunately, you are never keen on doing that. 

In these moments of clarity, he distances himself. If you won’t do it, he has to. He needs to. He needs to even when he can feel the little pieces of him that you’ve managed to haphazardly glue together splinter into tiny shards again, even when it feels like every step away is a step walked on shattered glass. He can hardly be called a ‘person’ anyways, what does his suffering matter? He has already lost so many good things, why not add another loss to the tally?

He reads your texts, but he doesn’t respond. He hangs up on you the moment you call. By doing this, he makes sure you know he is alive. Both because he knows it would devastate you if you thought he died, but even more so to make sure you know he is intentionally ignoring you. He hopes at least some part of you hates him. He thinks part of him hates you.

But he can never stay away for long. Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. Thoughts of you always cloud his mind too much to do what is right. He reminds himself he will destroy you. He comes back anyways. He is too selfish not to. 

And you welcome him with open arms every time. Sure, sometimes you yell. Sometimes you berate him. Sometimes you cry. But he never does something beyond the bounds of what you’ll forgive, even though he tries to. You’re patient to a fault. Though he feels bad, he never takes it fully seriously, because you always hold him with so much sweetness, even when your words are filled with righteous anger and justified hurt. You always end it by reminding him that you love him. Something clenches in his chest; something that is not his heart, because he has none. He claims he is sorry, but you both know he will do this again. He always does. You know he will hurt you over and over, even if you don’t know the extent. You know he will test you, that he will ignore you, that he will cling to you and that he will taunt you. You don’t know he will drag his claws through you and tear you to ribbons; you don’t know he will sink his teeth into your neck and drink all your blood; you don’t know he will lure you to sea and drown you. You are never aware of the true danger you are in. 

Maybe that’s why you one day feel comfortable enough to corner the creature that has taken on the appearance of a lover. You sit down next to him in bed one evening after one of his many attempts to push you away, your expression grim. You look straight ahead, right into his dead eyes, unaware that a monster is towering over you. 

“We can’t go on like this,” you say. For one moment, the crushing relief and devastation threatens to consume him, and he’s not sure which of the feelings is stronger. For one moment he can’t breathe. 

He hacks our a laugh, his skin straining. Something is shifting beneath his flesh, something ugly and dangerous. He needs to leave and he needs to do it quickly. 

“You’re right, we can’t,” he agrees, his voice a lot more steady than he feels. He feels the urge to grab you and shake you until you pass out. He feels the urge to suck out your life force until your body is an empty husk. He feels the urge to slam your head into the bathroom sink in the next room over. He feels the urge to shoot himself in the head, because he does not want to do any of that. 

“I love you,” you say, unexpectedly. Or maybe it’s not unexpected. You always say such stupid, brainless things. (You say it with sweetness. The only sweetness he can offer in return is the sweetness of bacteria digesting rotting meat. Is the flesh his, or will it be yours?) He laughs again. 

“I thought we were breaking up,” he says. Smirking, as if it’s funny. (It isn’t.)

“No, we’re really not,” you say firmly. He snorts. 

“Maybe we should.”

You don’t answer. Instead, you come closer. 

Get away, he thinks. Run, you fucking idiot. 

You don’t have many flaws, but the ones you do have are insurmountably big. You are too forgiving, you are too kind, you are too selfless, you are too naive. You will kill yourself doing this one day. You will let him kill you.

Your arms wrap around him. He can’t help but relax. The thing lurking under his human disguise grows more restless. 

“I don’t hate you,” you say, unexpectedly. And this one really is unexpected, because what made you say that? Your arms squeeze around him tighter. “I thought I was being obvious enough about that, but you’re so bad at understanding it.”

The feeling he has is the same as the feeling he gets when he realises a deal is going awry. You are the highest risk stakes he has ever made a bet on: will he ruin you, or will you ruin him? What you could do to him is so much more serious than death. He knows that he is holding a losing hand. He doesn’t even know what he stands to win.

You kiss his neck. He shudders. 

“Why are you so scared of me?” you ask. 

Scared? He is not scared. What an outright laughable concept. Neither of you are scared, but if one of you was, it should be you, but you aren’t, for some reason.

“What gives you that idea?” he chuckles, but his voice is not as steady this time, and he can feel his smile slipping. (What is wrong with him? He doesn’t want to think about it. The answer is always ‘everything’.)

“Your hand is shaking.”

It is, but that is not because he is afraid. Fear is a human response, borne from the desire to live. It is instinctual. It means kicking and screaming, it means clawing your way out of hell for the chance to see another day, it means fighting for the life you don’t want to end. He cannot die, you see. Death cannot occur twice. Just because his body reacts, that does not necessarily mean he can truly fear any longer.

(Then again, maybe his reaction does not come from the thought of his death.)

“I’m not scared,” he says, and his voice sounds a lot weaker than he had expected. You pull him closer, cradling his head against the crook of your neck. His blood is pulsing too quickly.

“It would be okay if you were,” you murmur. “I know you don’t know how to be loved. That’s okay. I’ll teach you. You just have to let me.”

Squash. Slice. Tear.

Maybe you are the monster. He can feel your claws prying his chest open; he can feel your teeth dig into his flesh; he can feel something that is not air fill his lungs. The biggest difference between you and him is that he devours, while you give. You painfully shove something back into the cavity meant to contain his soul, you pump blood back into his system, and you fill whatever gaps are left in him with something that is first cold but quickly warms. 

(He realises, belatedly, that something is pumping inside his chest again. But it can’t be a heart, can it? He lost that so long ago.)

“I’ll kill you,” he manages through gritted teeth, claws digging into your shirt. It is not a threat. It is not a warning. It is just the truth.

“You think too much,” you admonish him. Your tone is as gentle as your words are cutting. “I wish you would trust me more. You’re so determined to ruin your own life, and I don’t like it.”

“That’s just how I am. Deal with it or leave.”

“I’ll deal with it, then.”

Like a werewolf called by the full moon; like a vampire to blood; like a siren to a sailor. He will destroy you. But you accept it. 

He has tried time and time again to push you away, but he is weak. So incorrigibly weak, and though your flaws are insurmountable, his are all-consuming. He is a monster in all the ways that matter. But you stubbornly will not leave despite that. 

(Maybe that makes him a little more willing to try to change his nature. Just a little. Just for you. If you will not leave anyways, maybe he could try to make his presence a little less torturous.)

“Just… please stop ignoring me,” you sigh, nuzzling into his hair. Tenderly, tenderly, tenderly, so tenderly it makes his skin crawl. Your claws are softly piercing into him and he is helpless, unable (unwilling) to fight back. “I can deal with everything else. I just hate it when you do that. I can’t keep going weeks without speaking to you. I know you have some kind of… weird ideas that I’d be better off without you, but that’s not true. I love you, and I love being around you. I can’t help you when you cut me off at every corner.”

Cut, slice, slash.

Something in him breaks. Something he knows cannot be salvaged. Something he knows you would not want to salvage. Something he is not sure if he wants to salvage either, now that it is broken anyways.

He breathes a shaky breath, his fingers — his fingers, not claws, not this time — digging into your back. He buries his face into the crook of your neck, and he does not feel the urge to bite down. Though his eyes feel wet, it would not be enough water to drown you. 

He knows your line of logic is wrong. He knows the fact remains unchanged: he is a monster of a man. He will ruin you. But maybe your presence sparks enough electricity to keep his heart pumping, just for a little while, and maybe he can wait until things actually start going downhill before he lets you go. Maybe he can remember how to be a human for a bit, maybe he can pretend he is. 

“I just… don’t want to do something I can’t take back,” he whispers. “Not with you. You’re the… the only good thing I have left. I don’t know what I’d do if I…”

“That’s sweet, but I’m not as weak as you think I am,” you reply. “I’ve held out this long, haven’t I? Put more faith in me.”

He smiles.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

---------------------------------------------------------

My inbox is open, feel free to send in asks or requests, I'd love to ramble about things <3 Also reblogs are EXTREMELY appreciated the final push I needed to finish this was from a very kind individual who reposted and analysed my writing I've been riding that high ever since they did that ily bro

[glowingparasite]

so how about Mr time from colorbox red then?

Sounds good!

[charlotte-family-apologist]

For the MK requests... maybe SubScorp sharing adoring looks (cue Takeda and Frost gagging because ew, those are their dads)? Or the Kombat Kids + Frost resting in a cuddle pile after a long mission? Whatever inspires you more!

This took forever bc this is my first time drawing Hanzo and I had to keep redrawing things 😭

[ninjadoodleduck]

Webby and scrooge mcduck bonding?

ok! :V

[robo-milky]

[CW: Dark/absurdist humour + may mention blood/gore + may swear]

A Silly Dialogue Only Event Featuring…

Follow the questionable shenanigans of the apathetic Cloche, out-of-date Mors, and too-nice-to-say-no Leikata on their endeavour to exploit injured students for rep/money with the worst solutions imaginable find a use for Ramshackle’s many rooms! The bedding is dusty, and all bandages are made from cut curtains, but do you really want the school nurse to find out about your stupidity? Unlicensed healing magic and potions are illegal anyways, so you might as well come down here. But wait- There’s more! Ramshackle Clinic is also opening up “free” therapy for hardworking students!

Reblog for a ticket number and mail your concerns to the inbox! Ramshackle Clinic will be on its way to help.

Ex. “I want work.” “Lilia’s cooking upset my stomach…” “I heard XYZ visited a couple days ago, why aren’t they out yet?” “A request for the Doctor/Nurse/Receptionist to…” “I’m here to visit XYZ”

OCs and Canon characters welcome! Can’t say if they’ll be treated well…

[gayeddieagenda]

buck said you said it brother and an elf said You Are Gay and eddie said hang out with the boys and buck said I Am Bisexual.

[shalomniscient]

if mavuika turns out to be sad and soggy and horrendously willing to self sacrifice because she misses her family or something it’s going to be so over for me. sad and soggy characters who put up a relaxed and carefree front? brother say less

[kabutoden]

G-gulp... Aradia and Kanaya... Ship request... *Twiddles fingers nervously*

Spooky dead girlfriends. They're cooler then you. They're scary. Dying didn't keep em down. A vampire and a ghost. In love...