#aNd PuT iT iNtO oNe BuCkEt

[xskyll]

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[bucket-of-amethyst]

Grian the server manager giving him and Etho twin tasks so he can make his dream of working with Etho come true

[burgycreeper405-blog]

new crossover au dropped in Fortnite style

new ii crossover au by yours truly. it's called 'Inanimate Insanely OddParents'

i would've posted this more later but them other designs will take more time lol. and I'm impatient/hj

uhh that's it, that's the post, idk what else to put here. aight, scram. come back when i have new sh1t. or don't, up to you lolol

[r-aindr0p]

Is it weird to say that, whenever you draw the characters in that mini scrimblo versions of themself, it just reminds me of popcorn? Like you can put them in a bucket and carry them around. It's just precious. Btw, you're art is just 👌👌👌👌 I love it very much. 😜💚

They are pocket sized after all ! fitting them in a popcorn bucket would work as well ! I'm glad the little guys are appreciated :)

[fuupan]

How to Infiltrate a Country: A Guide by Trafalgar Law

this man is very practical

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Down To Fish with the boys!

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[skitskatdacat63]

I cannot stop thinking about these Niki pictures

[lustlovehart]

I would like to tell Azul that I’d like to gather up all of his slime into a bottle and bathe in it. 🫶

—💖 anon

If you tell him anything of the sort, you blink for a moment and all you see is a purple puddle on the floor. But also a freaked out expression from Floyd because what??? That’s not fair :( And Jade is Jade :).

[sfblah]

The Cleanup Crew - Tactical Maid Service

A while back I was waffling on about how I finally wrote something again, and so here it is. I was holding out cuz I wanted to have more of the next chapter(s) finished first, but I figured I should just go ahead and post this before a million years go by. As usual it's a send up of various anime tropes, as well as my inner repressed 16 year old that never stopped playing too many first person shooters.

Female sneezes - Dust

Operation "Hurry"

A spotlight switches on with a sharp kcham, illuminating a circle on the warehouse’s concrete floor. In its center stands a young woman clad in a black and white maid’s uniform, the cloth slightly wrinkled, but hardly noticeable at a distance. She holds her hands together calmly in front of her waist, though only for a moment before she caves to the urge to visor her eyes from the blinding light.

“Alright, last one for today,” grumbles an unseen voice from somewhere up above. After a brief pause, the maid fidgets and points to herself.

“Um, me?” she asks, looking at where she assumes her proctor must be.

“No, behind you.”

The maid turns around, and an incredulous groan immediately follows.

“Yes, you. Jesus, how’d a bucket like you pass selection? Ugh, forget it. Step forward.”

A series of overhead lights activate in sequence, revealing the entrance to the examination course. Still fidgeting, the maid approaches.

“Grab one of the weapons from the table.”

She hadn’t even noticed the table until the proctor pointed it out. Atop the rough wooden surface sits a sawed-off double barrel shotgun, a half-empty box of shells, and absolutely nothing else.

“This is the only one here,” observes the maid.

“You want it or not!?” snaps the voice from on high, startling the trainee half a foot into the air.

“Alright, alright, jeez,” the maid replies, retrieving the weapon. She breaks it open, loads two of her meager collection of shells, and after a brief struggle, slips it into the concealed holster under the back of her skirt.

“Okay, moving right along,” the proctor continues. “Yadda yadda, complete the course as quickly as you can, yadda yadda. By beginning the examination you consent to hrmm meh meh, you waive your right to blah, blah, blah… Look, this is the fiftieth time I’ve read this today. You know what to do, right? Just go through the thing.”

The maid blinks, glancing back and forth between the door and the still-obscured source of the voice.

“Uh. Yeah, totally. For sure.”

A single clap echoes in the rafters.

“Okay, great, great. Start whenever you’re ready. I’m gonna go grab a ham sandwich.”

Footsteps on the catwalk above fade into the distance, leaving the maid to shrug and shake her head.

“Yeah, okay. Rude?” she mumbles to herself, turning to face the entrance to her final test. A plywood facsimile of a foyer is visible through the open door, decorated with a few plastic houseplants. The maid cautiously sticks her head through the threshold, half expecting to be hit in the face by some manner of contraption. To her amazement, nothing happens. Suspiciously so, in fact. She proceeds to creep across the room, eyeing the doors on either side of the far wall, but she slows to a stop when something else catches her attention.

A metal grate is set into the wall. Neither near the ceiling nor the floor, it seems oddly out of place even in the industrial approximation of a manor. Almost as if it isn’t supposed to be there. Looking back over her shoulder, the maid approaches and discovers all but one of the screws meant to hold the grate in place are missing. After one more glance up at the vacant walkways above, she simply swings the grate aside and hauls herself through the opening.

Perhaps a more seasoned operator might have thought to look through the grate at some point before opening it. The unlucky maid assumed she was about to skip ahead in the exam course, but instead she finds herself wedged into a cramped metal duct, arms pinned to her sides and feet kicking uselessly in the air. Before even opening her eyes to take stock of her new surroundings, she stubbornly wiggles herself deeper into the vent.

“Well, this was a stupid idea…”

The test proctor may not have been watching, but the fates were certainly listening. When the maid took a deep breath to gather her strength, she instead succeeded only in filling her big, clumsy nose with dust. Her flailing legs go limp, and the warehouse hangs in silence for a moment before…

“ah-ahh-ahhh-CHOOOO!!!”

The maid’s loud, powerful sneeze did nothing to clear her sinuses. On the contrary, the remaining dust that had settled in the vent was scattered into the air, only exacerbating her need to sneeze again.

“ah-ahh-CHOO!!”

And again.

“haa-CHOO!”

And again…

“ah-ahh… AHH-CHHOOOOOOO!!!”

Her frantic wiggling resumes, adding a chorus of popping and straining sheet metal to the cacophony. Mercifully the duct isn’t especially long, and eventually the maid manages to shimmy and sneeze herself far enough along to free her arms and fully push herself out the other side. She lands upside down in a heap, legs kicking one more time as she gives another “ah-CHOOO!”

The maid rolls herself upright, sitting on the floor of an unexplored part of the test. Instead of reorienting herself, she shakes her head and begins to rub her tickly nose up, down, and all around with the palm of her hand. Finally she cracks one eye open with a thick, wet sniff. The room is dark, but it again appears to be plywood construction with more fake plants.

“Hey, Bucket? Where’d you go?” calls the proctor through a mouthful of food. The maid just manages to register their footsteps approaching from somewhere behind before she folds over with a screamed “HA-CHOOOO!!”

The footsteps quicken to an awkward jog, soon arriving overhead.

“Oh, shit! I didn’t think you’d get this far already. Let me just…”

The room lights up, and the maid has no time at all to absorb her surroundings before cardboard targets burst out of every nook and cranny, and the deafening sounds of recorded gunfire fill the air. If the maid had bothered to stand, imaginary bullets would have already torn her to shreds. Instead she sits in dubious comfort behind a couch, desperately rubbing her nose.

“Intruders! Shoot the targets!” shouts the proctor, scarcely audible over the chaos. The maid fumbles for her shotgun, nearly pulling her skirt down to her ankles before she manages to retrieve it from its holster. Then, barely able to keep her eyes open, she peeks over the back of the couch, points her weapon roughly in the direction of one of the cardboard cutouts, and pulls the trigger.

The recoil sends the maid falling back to the ground, where she remains for a moment as she gasps and heaves forth a strained “ah-ahh-CHHOOO!” She shakily returns to her feet and repeats the process, shooting, falling, and sneezing all over again. This time she doesn’t stand, deciding to reload first. She opens her shotgun and dumps out the two empty shells, then begins to feel around under her skirt for more.

“Remember, switching to your pistol is always faster than reloading!” the proctor advises.

“I don’t have a pistol!” shrieks the maid, kicking her feet up and down.

“Shit, uh, sorry…”

Just as the maid finally manages to fumble a shell into one of her shotgun’s barrels, a falling hunk of metal hits her right on the nose. She screams and covers her face, rolling onto her side and unknowingly kicking her shotgun across the floor. What the hell even was this test? If she’d known she was going to be treated like this, she would have just stayed home and stuck to video games.

Her right hand finds the dropped pistol after a few aimless slaps on the floor. Knuckles white on the grip and breathing heavily through clenched teeth, the maid rises to her feet, takes what she assumes is a shooting stance of some kind, and fires wildly at the remaining targets. She continues pulling the trigger even after she expends her last bullet and the pistol’s slide locks back, only coming down from her rage when the simulated gunfire stops.

Somehow, against all odds, each of the cardboard targets have been neatly punctured. Well, maybe not neatly, but good enough. The maid lets her arms fall to her sides, and soon her jaw and eyelids begin to droop in turn. Her head tips back, her large, teardrop-shaped nostrils flare, and…

“AAHHH-CHHHOOOOOOOO!!!”

And she doesn’t stop sneezing for the next… She doesn’t even know how long. Somebody takes her by the shoulders, leads her somewhere, and someone else begins to address her, all while she continues to sneeze.

“Hello, and allow me to congratulate you on passing your final assessment.” This new voice is lower and softer, not that the maid is able to pay any attention.

“ah-CHOO!”

“Your form says your callsign is ‘Bucket’? Is that right?”

“Aaah-CHOOO!!”

“Wonderful. Let me be the first to welcome you to The Cleanup Crew.”

[youngerfrankenstein]

[bucket-of-amethyst]

"It's like we are the IT guys hanging out with the theater kids" Impulse says while always being somewhere on the top placements for Most Dramatic, Theatrical, Karma Filled, Ironic, Emotional death every life series season ever

[nat-without-a-g]

I made the mistake of scrolling around on tumblr KNOWING I follow people who post about the new episodes soon after they come out and lemme just say.

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[peachy-doodles]

for the drawing requests... Larry n Kabu dancing together..... Heehee....

did this as a cool down sketch after those owed art pieces i did... tysm... thinking abt them dancing together is rly funny. short ass kabu can barely reach. they need to put this man in some heels fr.

[connorconsumestrousers]

stanley posting!!

just a bunch of Stanley centric stuff bc he deserves it

[waywardstation]

PHIONE AKARI!

A lot of people have commented on the phione that Akari is holding in this post, so I thought I’d share some of these sketches that I’d been holding onto! (It is why I drew her holding one in the first place haha)

Ever since I came up with this fic concept for this, I’ve had this thought on my mind. I’m suprised there’s not a PLA fic about manaphy yet, where it swaps bodies between people and Pokémon. There’s a lot of potential there!

The concept initially had Akari turn into a buizel, but I thought a phione would fit better; its head ribbon reminds me of the back of Akari’s hairstyle!

Just like in the linked fic concept, Akari would have to make her way back from the coastlands to Jubilife somehow, and try to get Ingo to understand that she is now a phione, and needs his help getting her body back.

I’d like to write this as a fic at some point, it’s been in my head for a while!