#Up and at ‘em! <- lying

[thgegooberguy]

*Sipping comically large cup of coffee with ‘joe’ written on it* Workin’s hard or hardly workin’ that’s what I always say, and there’s nothing like a hot cup of denj to start your morning off right *winks at camera* hashtag ad

[gouraminnow]

I love the way you write yandere Shanks! If it’s not too much trouble, could you please make more headcanons, a snippet, or whatever you feel like writing? The way you write Shanks is so captivating, I keep rereading everything you wrote about him! No pressure btw!! Even if you decide not to write anything, I still appreciate the good read! Thank you so much ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you, this is really sweet! He's... not a character I typically go for, tbh but I'm glad I can write him okay. Previous writings with him were with a civillian reader, so here's an attempt at him scooping up a reader who isn't. :)

Reader is the first mate of an unnamed crew here. Details are vague.

Warnings: Injured reader(not by Shanks), drugging, imminent kidnapping

Damnit.

Damn it all.

You had faith in your captain, you truly did, but anyone could see it was often left to you to pick up his slack. But you were far from the only First Mate with that type of dynamic, so you tried not to let it get to you. Your captain, your friend- like most pirates, was ambitious and determined to make a name not only for himself, but for the rest of you as well.

And though he had the talent to back up his confidence, you all lacked the experience of older crews.

Your beloved Captain did not have what it took to fend off a Marine attack led by an admiral, and now here you were- alone, after dragging yourself into a beachfront cave. It was raining heavily, so any blood you'd left behind you had hopefully been washed away from the dark, rocky shore.

Ugh. Dragging yourself across the rocks did not help how you felt in the slightest. You knew your leg was broken, probably some ribs too. From the sound of your breathing- a raspy, rattling sound, punctuated by painful coughs that brought blood up with them, there was a good chance one of them had punctured one of your lungs. You tried not to think about it, instead focusing on the thunder echoing into the darkened cave, cool stone soothing your aching body. You just hope your diversion worked.

You try to steady your ragged breathing, eyes fluttering shut. You're utterly exhausted, and it's so cold... each wheezing inhale sends bolts of pain through you, arcing out from your chest, down your arms and to the tips of your fingers...

You feel the presence before you hear or see anything- the atmosphere growing heavier and heavier. You grit your teeth, dragging yourself back against the cave wall and into a sitting position with a long, scratchy whine. You think it might be a marine at first, bloodthirsty higher-ups determined to stamp out the small fry, but then a familiar caped silhouette steps in front of the cave entrance.

You suppress a groan. What the hell is Shanks doing here?

You'd met him a couple times before. The first time, it'd been nerve-wracking. None of you knew how the Emperor would react to the presence of your crew- you weren't bothering anyone, just drinking and screwing around on the beach while your chef roasted some sea king. But he'd been friendly, calling out jovially and asking if it was your crew that had the local marine patrol in such disarray. The caution melted from your captain, and he confirmed it to be so, clapping a hand on your shoulder and saying they had you to thank more than anyone else. You had just sighed and rolled your eyes. Partying with a Yonko crew was fun, but you preferred to remain sober. Someone had to keep their head on straight and unfortunately, that was usually you.

He happened to "cross paths" with your crew a couple more times. You'd thought it odd, but hadn't said anything.

His presence here confirmed something was up, to you at least. Despite not having a reason to believe he'd hurt you, your body still tensed as he approached, the slap of his sandals against stone echoing throughout the cave until he came to a stop before you. He crouches, and you hear a pop- probably one of his knees. It earns a snort from you, but the ounce of humor is short lived when that sends you into a coughing fit.

It's hard to make out the details of his expression in the low-light, but you can feel his eyes on you and you think you spot a crease in his brow. When your fit dies down into labored breathing, blood bubbling past your lips, he fishes something out of one of his pockets. Reaching toward your face, you're only just able to suppress your flinch when you feel a cloth gently wipe your face. "... You're a lot worse off than I thought," he murmurs, stuffing the bloodied handkerchief back into his pocket. You manage a scoff.

"... Didn't expect an Admiral," you rasp out truthfully. "M'not... crazy. I knew we weren't ready for that." He hums, quiet for a moment before reaching for something else.

"Your crew got away, because of you," he says, a strange warmth in his voice. There's something akin to a soft popping sound and he hands you something. "Here, this'll help." You reach up to close your fingers around... a flask? You raise it to your face, sniffing. Yeah, that's booze, alright. You raise it to the man before you as a gesture of thanks and take a swig, the pleasant burn cutting through the taste of blood. "Y'know, that's the first time you've accepted a drink from me," he quips as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Don't need to be the sensible one if I'm out of commission," you tell him, taking another drink. You feel pleasantly fuzzy already, leave it to Shanks to have the good stuff. "F-fuck. Wouldn't be bad to feel less, either," you confess, offering his flask back. He chuckles, shaking his head and pushing your hand back toward you. You raise a brow, but just shrug, deciding to drink freely.

"I thought as much," he says, watching you intently. It feels strange. You feel strange.

"Would think you'd be a bit stingier with this stuff," you rasp, "but you've tried to get me drinking every time you... 'happen across' us." You wheeze, slumping against the cave wall.

"Aw, is there something wrong with being friendly?" His voice is warm, lilting. You feel fuzzy. "I just like keeping an eye on promising rookies, is all." Your eye twitches. Sure, you're nowhere near his level, but you wouldn't consider yourself nor your crew rookies. "But enough about that. Can you tell me about the damage?"

You sigh, closing your eyes. The pain has faded, just a little. "Leg's broken. Ribs, too. Think one might've... p-punctured a lung." There's movement. You think he nodded, but the way your vision swims it's hard to tell.

"Well, I told Beck and Hongo to follow me if I took too long. Can't imagine tossing you over my shoulder would be very good for you right now, so we'll wait for them to bring a stretcher."

"Mmm." Your brows knit together. You... feel strange. A little warm, yes, but you've realized too late that you're far too hazy for the little you've had to drink. "Shanks," you mumble, flask clattering to the stone floor. A hand tentatively raises to rub your eyes. "W-what the hell, Shanks? What is this? You s-said it'd help..."

He hums, picking up the small vessel. "It will. It's gonna make moving you a lot less miserable. Didn't you just say it wouldn't be bad to feel less..?" You sputter, coughing weakly, the spasms wracking your slumped frame. "Careful now," he chides.

"Sh-shanks, seriously, what the fuck..? Why?" You choke out. He tilts his head. "Woulda just gone. So w-why..."

"You need the rest. Didn't know what condition you'd be in, but I wanted you out for a bit regardless, just in case. This is much kinder than haki, don't you think? I'm just being considerate, here." That playful tone of his is really pissing you off. "I do wish your first drink with me wasn't under these circumstances, but I'm glad you chose the gentle option."

Your eyes well up with frustrated tears, the man before you growing blurrier. "I d-don't under.... ssaand," you slur out pathetically. You cringe when you feel him touch you, his warm, calloused fingers gently wiping your tears away.

A soft sigh, the gentle, inviting sound almost aiding in the clouding of your head. "I'll do us both a favor and rip the bandaid off now," he says, voice firmer despite the gentle, careful way he's touching you. "You're coming with me," he says casually, like it's no big deal. "And this way, nothing has to happen to your crew. They're alive, yes, but they don't know that you are." His hand cups your face, thumb gently rubbing your cheek. You try to jerk away, but only manage a twitch.

No.

No!

You want to scream, to cuss him out, you want to struggle- but all you can manage is something between a choke and a whine. "Sh- sh-anks..." you rasp, tears streaming freely now. Your crew. Your Captain, your best friend..!

"There's no reason to cry, sweetheart," he chides, leaning forward as your eyes flutter shut. A soft kiss pressed against your forehead as everything fades. "You saved them."

[thesnadger]

I saw a post on dnd reddit titled "what do I do with a murderhobo" and my brain immediately scanned it to "drunken sailor."

[cupcakewebkinz]

You know, I was thinking about an idea I had then realized just how angsty it would be on one side and how much fluff it would be on the other and I'm curious about other people's ideas too ngl

So like, I was toying around with the idea of Shanon coming back to Gardenview and snatching up the loser lesbians and bringing them home with her to save from... Whatever happened. Shanon has no idea, she was never allowed to know, so she just has two VERY traumatized toons now. She'll know how to keep Shelly entertained and happy, she was ALWAYS with Shelly, but I highly doubt she'd know how to keep Vee in check at all.

Vee would probably quickly spiral into a mental crisis about it too, as now everything has been destroyed in her eyes. Nobody remembers her gameshows because they ended years ago, nobody remembers her because Gardenview closed years ago, nobody's interested in learning about her as she's outdated technology to them now. She'd be alone, only able to quiz Shelly now, but she's heard all her questions and knows all the answers by now. She'd probably start self isolating because she just doesn't know what to do with herself, lashing out at Shanon because she genuinely doesn't understand why people aren't fans of her anymore and wants to blame someone except herself. She would be such a wreck and probably have major beef with any new technology Shanon brings home because it replaced her in her mind. Vee is now just... Vee. She's not a celebrity any more, she's not loved by anyone except the toon handler who took her in and her now popular dinosaur girlfriend, and she would not have a clue what to do about it.

Shelly would most likely have the opposite problem, she looks like a living toon just wandering around like she's a common sight to see - of course people would notice! Kids would ask her about fossils and she'd happily tell them all about what she is and their minds would be blown by how much she knows, she'd probably be asked to play by kids who think she looks really neat and be dragged to the sandbox to 'fossil hunt' whenever Shanon takes them to the park. Shanon very much would hide plastic fossils in there too just to see Shelly smile, like she used to before her museum shut down. She'd be such an interesting sight to see that she'd get stared at, often asked what she actually is, and probably would be the talk of the town for a while. Eventually everyone would know that Shelly is just there to have fun, don't bother her too much, but at first everyone would be so shocked by a living breathing toon they'd swarm the poor thing! I'm sure Shelly would be just a little irritated by the constant unwarranted attention and stares, but so happy she's no longer forgotten.

Their roles would reverse is what I'm getting at here. It gives so much Vee angst to work with and Shelly comfort... I am brainrotting over this idea if that's not obvious

[chiropteracupola]

Oh, hello! Will we be friends?

[jack aubrey, requested by @nixtheclause, @nix-xon, and @razerecherche]

[clumsypuppy]

fake ep idea + doodles

[sleepiestlab]

IF I MUST LOCK IN FOR HALF AN HOUR JUST TO HEAR THEM BREATHE AT EACH OTHER, THEN SO BE IT.

[schwipschwap123]

Everyone has that one character that they have so many head cannons about it barely resembles their cannon self.

Mine is Starclan

Supreme council hive mind of old geriatrics that don't remember their lives, their mortal self's nothing but a distant memory and some half remembered label before they faded into this.

Somewhere between the Clans salvation and force for preserving stability in a dangerous and unpredictable wild. And a parasite that cynically exploits the living for their own divinity.

Something to devote and worship, to hate and scorn, and it cares for neither. Its singular and multiple, a thousand in one and all the same.

How long can something live before it stop being a cat?

[britcision]

Regular reminder that sudden and severe weight loss is a pretty serious sign that something is very, very wrong

[juls-art]

Golden boy, Claude –   *✧Support me!✧*   *✧Tip me for a job well done! ✧*

[made-my-peace-with-all-the-bad]

save me ponyboy little brother monologue save me

[rawr-mortgage]

so i was on a race against the clock before the daily time reset cuz i didn't wanna rush any of the chapters but there was less than 1 hour left, so while i did buy Alfons' ch14 premium story, i skipped it. and oh boy...

needless to say, i was very unprepared for that opening scene.

[reyreadersblog]

The way...i'd commit crimes if i were Avery...

First Skye, then Grayson, then Jameson, then (whatever her fathers name is), then Eve, then Sheffield, then Thea, then Savannah....litrerally everyone..

[fedoraspooky]

... *looks at Art Fight team reveals and grits teeth*

I can't. I really gotta be kinder to myself this year. ;w; Gotta stop biting off more than I can chew;;;

*lays face-down on the ground*

[gouinisme]

i'm gonna ignore all the parts of me that think gerry's being manipulated and lied to and just think about him making gertrude increasingly obnoxious cardigans. think about that with me for a second. please

[genericpuff]

... huh???

assuming they're using quotes correctly here, is Rachel seriously out here claiming she's been working on LO for over a decade? Because that's just... really easily refutable with any amount of surface level digging. And like, one tier of rabbithole diving. Shit, you can find proof of this being a lie right on her own IG where she celebrates anniversaries for LO. Granted, those posts are for the Originals version, but the Tumblr version isn't much older than it (2017) and again, any amount of surface level diving into Wayback will prove that she hasn't been working on LO that long.

"She could have been working on LO in the background", sure, but Rachel's never been someone to really... do that? Like if it were anyone else I'd be willing to believe that but Rachel is someone who's been chronically online since 2004, she has a history of starting projects on a whim and then dropping them (I could make the bold claim that the only reason LO didn't was because it got picked up by WT). You're telling me she's been working on LO since 2013? Then where the fuck is it? This is one of the oldest pieces of "concept art" out there that you can still find on her DA and it's from December 2016 (so just a few months before she started posting LO):

This was a one off piece, she was working on The Doctor Foxglove Show back then, with its first episode being posted to Webtoons back in January 2016. She later dropped Foxglove, due to what I assume was LO taking up all her time and attention because of how much it blew up on Tumblr and Webtoons. There are no other pieces like this one that hint at LO being any older than 2017.

All this paired with her claiming H x P were always her "muses" even though there's ZERO indication of her being into Greek myth prior to LO (seriously, you will not find any of the myths or Greek-adjacent stories listed ANYWHERE on her old bios, but you sure as shit will find Lolita repeated ad nauseum...) and the fact she claims she's a "folklorist" when that's just so obviously not true?

Listen, I can rationalize the concept of chronic lying, but you'd think she'd have gotten better at it by now LOL Because everything she's lying about is so easily proven contrary, both through Wayback and things she's claimed herself that contradicts what's so easily proven otherwise.

If LO has been in production for over a decade, great. But the receipts just ain't lining up with that claim.