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esperanzagalaxy · 2 years

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if you're still taking requests.... any other party members realising that Sasha, Azu and Hamid are all like. idiot 20-somethings ?? unless that's too vague! ❤️

RQG requests #25, IDIOT 20-SOMETHINGS!!! i’m not going to lie, this request Was a little intimidating because i had no idea how to make this funny or channel their twenty-somethingness in any way so i- ahem. had to unearth some memories from high school where, uh. chocolate milk with rum was a thing? and it was cursèd but people made it anyway and it was kind of a meme so. um. here they are. enjoy ¿?

in all seriousness, i fucking love this one. i think the fuckin faces and scribbles are on point, honestly. they’re all just SO no thoughts head empty. i love them. it’s been done for weeks and i still giggle whenever i see it. i relate to this holder-of-the-braincell grizzop but like, that was me at 16 to my classmates. yeah.

anyway, i imagine that, after getting all fixed up, sasha Would be pretty down to do weird shit just because she’s alive. i love her. it’s what she deserves. i miss season 3

thank you so much for this request!! <333 and shoutout to jerry van @crayonturtle for canonizing the gobfam 🙏🏽

ID under the cut!

[ID: a five-panel digital comic of azu, hamid, sasha and grizzop. it's drawn with sketchy black lines on a white background, and the characters are colored with flat and bold colors. azu is a buff, tall black orc, with a shaved head, pink lipstick and white tusks. she has a pink breastplate, a long yellow shawl around her neck, loose yellow pants and brown boots. hamid is short, fat, dark-skinned and dressed in a dark three-piece suit with a green vest, and his purple cape. he's wearing gold make-up and his hair is dark brown, curly and slicked back. sasha is very pale, with shaggy black hair and an undercut, where the white patch is visible. she has dark circles and burns on her face. she's wearing a studded leather jacket, dark gloves and leather armor under the jacket. grizzop has dark gray skin, a scar on the bridge of his nose, dangling arrow earrings on his long ears, red eyes and freckles. he has a green coat with a high orange collar, pauldrons, and a silver breastplate. the comic goes as follows:

panel 1: azu is coming in from the left, with an excited smile and raising a big jug of chocolate milk in her left hand. she's shown from the chest up. AZU: I found chocolate milk!

panel 2: hamid comes in from the right, hovering. he's also grinning excitedly and is holding up a red bottle with both hands. HAMID: I got rum!

panel 3: sasha is on the center, from the chest up. she's pointing to her face with both hands and grinning in a manic way. SASHA: Who wants to try mixing them in my mouth?!

panel 4: the camera pulls back to show the three of them further away, to the right, with grizzop watching them in the foreground with his back to the camera, sitting and polishing his arrows. sasha is screaming up to the sky, back to the camera, while azu and hamid come from either side of her holding their bottles, azu running and hamid flying. they both have cartoony, dot-eyed grinning faces. SASHA: Fucking bring it!! AZU: Eeey! HAMID: Eeey!

panel 5: same angle and distribution from panel 4. in the background, azu and hamid are pouring down the milk and rum down sasha's mouth, pumping their free fists in the air. sasha stands a little unsteadily. grizzop is turning to the camera with an unimpressed, disapproving expression. GRIZZOP: I have six kids and a mortgage. I am entirely too old for this. AZU, HAMID: Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! SASHA (gurgling): Blrghughblhgbh-

end ID]

#hamid saleh haroun al tahan #sasha rackett #grizzop drik acht amsterdam #rqg azu #rqg #rusty quill gaming #digital #fanart #doodle #comic #2022 #the great swarm of rqg requests 2k22

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crayonturtle · 6 months

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*pulls up to the crayonturtle drive thru* can i get uhhhh, grizzop and vesseek being domestic please? Thank you!

do you want fries with that

#featuring dad jokes #from my dad specifically #izzo really can't lose anymore socks #difficult enough to get anything that fits #rqg #grizzop drik acht amsterdam #vesseek #gobfam #crayon creates #req

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satturn · 7 months

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tagged by @disclaimer-performatico <3

rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people.

i'll tag @samthemoth, @lyingdetectives, @crayonturtle, and @dykered (no pressure)

#i love doing tags if you tag me in something and i don't do it it's cause i forgot but ily #tag game

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shofics · 3 years

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help I can't decide between 1, 2 and 9 for zoscar in that prompt list!

1. touching foreheads

2. running fingers through hair

9. listening to the other’s heartbeat

Ok but what if, like… all three

EDIT: I WROTE AN EXTENDED VERSION ON AO3!! GO CHECK ER OUT

CW for description of major character injury and death

Zolf wakes with a start, biting off the gasp as it comes- but Wilde is already awake, or perhaps still awake, lying on his back staring up at the roof of the tent, lit by an eerie blue glow despite how far they’ve camped from the Garden’s entrance. Zolf squeezes his hands in and out of fists and tries to even out his breathing. Wilde turns his head. “Zolf? You alright?”

Zolf swallows hard and takes a deep breath. “Fine,” he manages. “Sorry. Nightmare.”

Wilde shifts onto his side. “What did you dream about?”

Zolf and Wilde have a routine, when it comes to nightmares, and that’s never been part of it. When Zolf shudders awake with a jolt from dreams of Sasha’s organs and opening scars, when Wilde wakes screaming from- whatever the hell it is he dreams about- the other provides comfort, presence, but never asks why. It’s an unspoken rule that, so far, neither has been brave enough to broach from either side.

“You,” Zolf says quietly.

Little specks of blue light reflect in Wilde’s grave, worried eyes. “Oh.”

“I, er. I was the one who found you.”

Blood in the snow, blood staining the wood, the hull of the ship, cracked and splintered and deadly sharp, a body broken and twisted, a body he trusted, contorted in a way no human body should ever be, rib cage opened up like a horrible red flower, blood on the face, dripping from chapped, parted lips-

A hand slides into his, gently twitching his fingers apart and lacing them together, and Zolf takes another shaky breath. “Sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Wilde’s voice is gentle and fond. Zolf reaches out with his other hand, hovering an inch from Wilde’s face, wanting, needing, but not knowing how to ask.

Wilde shifts a little closer, and Zolf’s fingers make contact with his cheek and almost automatically brush back through his hair, and Wilde smiles, surprised. They’re so close Zolf can feel his breath, warm on his own face, and it’s hard to get stuck in the image of his battered, lifeless body when they’re lying like this, face to face.

He’s apologising because he shouldn’t need that to be okay. He’s not that fragile.

But his hand is still in Wilde’s hair, and there’s no blood matting it anymore, and he combs his fingers through it, just to make sure, because he’s still got one foot in the dream of cold white and warm red and he does need every sense to pull him out of it. Wilde shifts even closer and presses his forehead to Zolf’s, and he’s warm, warmer than humans usually are, and Zolf leans into the touch and tries as hard as he can to forget how cold his corpse had been.

“Are you cold?” Wilde asks, because he’s shaking.

“No.”

Wilde chuckles breathily. “It’s all a bit much, isn’t it?” he jokes weakly.

“A bit, yeah,” Zolf manages, in the split second before all the composure he has disintegrates, and he gasps shakily and tucks himself into Wilde’s neck and clutches him like he is the only thing keeping Wilde’s body in one piece.

Wilde’s arms encircle him and squeeze, hard, like he’s thinking the same thing. “If you need to let it out, Zolf, you won’t get a better time than this,” Wilde says softly, and he’s right, damn the man. And so Zolf presses himself to Wilde’s chest, all the panic and fear he hadn’t let himself feel before lancing through his heart and out the other side, letting the entire world fill up with the steady pulse and overwhelming heat of a body that shouldn't be alive but is. Is. Arms around him, safe and comforting. Thud, thud, thud, goes that miraculous thing in Wilde’s chest. Alive, Zolf reminds himself, alive, alive, alive…

#thank you for the prompt my friend aaah #my post #my writing #rqg #rqg fic #rqgaming #rusty quill gaming #rqg wilde #wilde rqg #zolf smith #zoscar #prompt fill #answered #crayonturtle #100

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luftballons99 · 4 years

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the way you draw is just so! enrapturing! i keep looking at your art over and over and over again and i keep coming back to it it's just so soft and fluffy and also really funny sometimes and just all in all very expressive and amazing to look at.. sorry this ask is so intangible i just have A LOT of feelings about it

dont apologize, this is really sweet!! thank you :’)

#crayonturtle

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ohcorny · 4 years

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i love how you broke the panel to make room for sylas' nose

sylas’ nose, bustin on through

#crayonturtle

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meru90 · 5 years

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Ohhh please tell me about hot wings! (dabihawks) :O

my thoughts: this was my first thought when i realized i actually start shipping them

i usually try to stay away from crack ships cause there’s never much content for it BUT!! ! HAVE NO FEAR !! THANK GO D I AM A CONTENT CREATOR MYSELF :,^)

when I started shipping it if I did: i can’t even really tell last year around september or earlier but def started to like the idea of them after the highend arc in the end it was a fic that made me fall in love with this ship and since then i am obsessed

what makes me happy about them: uhm the hero/villain dynamic !! there isn’t really much canon content so far but i want them to annoy the fuck out each other lol

things done in fanfic (or in general, fandom) that annoys me: there is just too much porn fics ..just nah…i need other stuff…

things I look for in fanfic: …other stuff as in ANGST ANGST ANGST !! ! as if the ship is not angsty enough lmao but yeah something with actual plot would be nice

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: dabi x prison redemption arc and hawks x happines 😂😂 …i just know this wont end well ok ugh im such a realist

#aks thing #i just want them to pack their stuff and fly into the suntest far aways from all the drama surrounding them #crayonturtle #ask thing

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knifemartin · 2 years

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hi hello yeah could i have ummm artie malevolent with a large 🛁 and some ✋ on the side thanks

I can't believe you asked for this combo, jerry. wth.

bath and hand-in-hair??? fades to black with absolutely NO comment.

“Jesus, Arthur, we’re fucking filthy,” John whines, running his hand through the bathwater so it ripples out, creating tiny waves that lap up against the rest of Arthur’s skin. Arthur sighs deeply from somewhere beneath his bones.

“Hence the bath, John,” he says through gritted teeth, and sinks further into the water, chasing its warmth. It feels unbelievably good to lie down, to rest his tired legs and to let his head lean back on the rim of the bath, the steam clearing his lungs as he breathes it in.

“Wash yourself, then,” John presses. “There’s mud all up both of your legs, and the dirt under our fingernails seems to have made itself at home there. There’s a layer of grime on our hands that has only been getting steadily worse since we last had a proper rest, and your hair is in desperate need of some soap. There’s a small cake of it to your right, Arthur, resting in a dish at the foot of the bath.”

“Give me a minute, John,” Arthur sighs. He doesn’t move, doesn’t follow John’s instructions, and he can feel the impatience rolling through his mind like a lost cart wheel.

John does fall silent at that, and Arthur slips into his newly won peace with pleasure, his mind falling blissfully blank. There’s plenty to think about, plenty to worry about, but he manages to shove it all aside for a moment and think of nothing but how good it feels to be soaking in warm water with a freshly-made bed waiting for him.

“It’s been a minute,” John says unhelpfully, bursting into Arthur’s bubble of respite and popping it cleanly.

“Jesus, John– figure of speech.” Arthur groans, scrubbing his hand over his face in exasperation. John’s boredom is not his problem, but it seems that John disagrees entirely. “I’m not– just, I don’t know. Tell me about something else. I will clean up, but I’ll do that later. It’s not my priority right now, okay?”

“Fine,” John says at last, and Arthur opens his eyes and looks around the room to help him out for a moment. “There’s sunlight streaming in through the window,” John tells him. “It’s opaque on the lower half, but it’s a tall window and it opens from the top. A couple of leaves, pale green and flickering in the breeze, stretch out behind the glass, but they don’t reach far enough to block the sun out.”

Arthur hums, not really listening to John as he settles himself in, getting more comfortable. John keeps talking, his low voice slipping further from Arthur’s mind until he can no longer make out individual words, no longer tries to.

He could fall asleep in here, warm for the first time since before the Dreamlands, since before John. Relaxed enough for his thoughts to take flight, drifting like bubbles from his mind as his breath evens out, his pulse slows-

There’s a weight on his head and Arthur snaps his eyes open for John, sits bolt upright. A hand with strong fingers digging into his scalp, and Arthur– “John!” He shouts, reaching up with his right hand to free himself from their grip, but they’ve already let go and Arthur’s left chasing empty air. “Jesus fucking- John!”

“Arthur.” John’s voice is steady and calm, still there, still there–

“Who’s there? John, there’s someone, I felt–”

“It’s just us in here, Arthur,” John promises, and he hasn’t a shred of the panic that spikes through Arthur’s veins. “We’re alone.”

“No,” Arthur insists, turning his head so John can see around the whole room. “No, no, because I felt someone, someone grabbed us, John, and– and you were supposed to keep an eye out! You said you’d sit watch!”

“You had your eyes closed, Arthur. You can’t blame me for not seeing a threat when you close your fucking eyes!” There’s still no urgency to his voice, though, and he hasn’t mentioned anything seeming to be off. Still, the hairs on the back of Arthur’s neck stand tall.

“Listen, then! You–”

“You can hear just as well as I can–”

“No, I know, but I was resting, John! It’s been a long fucking day, week, life, with you– And I’m the one who can actually feel the toll all this running around takes on this body of ours, I’m the one who–” Arthur cuts himself off, the pieces clicking together in his mind. John stays silent, too, and Arthur’s willing to bet he’s glaring daggers right about now. “That was your hand,” he says, unable to keep the grin from his voice. “That was you.”

“I didn’t know you’d get so scared,” John snaps back, already on the defense.

“You grabbed my fucking head, John!” Arthur laughs, sinking back into the bath, the foot he can feel poking its toes out the other end. “I was drifting off and you grabbed my head, and you didn’t think I’d get a fright?”

“I was being nice,” John growls, a petulant child once again. Arthur can’t picture him– of course he can’t, but he can picture the way John’d be standing right now, if he had a body. How he’d cross his arms over his chest and he’d huff and he’d puff, and the image in his mind bubbles out of him in lighthearted laughter. John positively bristles at the sound.

“That’s not nice, John,” Arthur chides. “Give a man some warning next time, alright? I thought someone was going to snap my neck, or drag me under, or, or, I don’t know.”

John says nothing for a moment, and Arthur can’t tell if he’s processing or just sitting in his tantrum for a while longer, but he doesn't really care anymore. The bath water’s not cold by any means, but it’s starting to lose some of that precious heat, and Arthur isn’t sure he’s going to get that level of comfort back.

“What was it, then?” Arthur asks, letting his eyes drift shut again now that he knows there’s no one else in the room with them.

“What?”

“What were you doing? You said you were being nice.”

John huffs, a sharp exhale of a breath he can’t actually take, and Arthur feels his lips curl with amusement in response. “You’ll just laugh at me,” John grumbles, doing nothing to help the situation.

“No I won’t,” Arthur lies, and there’s no way John believes him either, but he relents.

“You were… you were tired. And unclean. I thought I would help while you slept.”

John, so desperate to get them clean. John, impatient with Arthur’s need for rest. Arthur raises an eyebrow, but it’s lost on John. “So you were… going to wash my hair?”

“You’re laughing at me!” John growls, and he gestures something with his hand; Arthur can feel it in the way his body twists with the motion.

“No, no, I’m not!” He promises, hand held up placatingly. He rolls the thought over in his mind, the idea of John’s hand in his hair, washing him so he doesn’t have to. It’s not… it’s not entirely unpleasant. “You’re– you’re right, John. That is nice.” His voice softens with the admission, quiet enough not to bounce off the tiled walls of this bathroom. On his right, John had said. At the food of the bath.

Arthur sits up, ignoring John’s questioning as he reaches, patting around for the cake. He knocks it into the water when he finds it, but it’s easy enough to dig out, and he presses it into John’s hand.

“Arthur, I,” John stammers, and Arthur lays back down.

“There’s your soap,” Arthur tells him, closing his eyes. John’ll be fine, he’s sure of it.

“Well, now I don’t even want to,” John mutters, but Arthur knows that tone, knows he’s just painfully shy of coming across as human as he is.

“Well, I want it,” Arthur promises him. “Humour me?”

He can feel John’s reluctance as if it’s something tangible, something physical that seeps out from where their minds merge and into the light of day, as if even then he’d be able to see it. But John moves, slowly and carefully this time, and now that Arthur knows what to expect he waits calmly, ready.

John starts with Arthur’s face, and there must’ve been a cloth he hadn’t mentioned because it’s not their hand Arthur can feel wiping the dirt from his cheeks. It’s both soft and coarse, and above all it’s warm as it traces over his skin. John is careful, more careful than Arthur could’ve imagined him to be, and he switches between wringing the cloth out as best he can with a single hand and cleaning Arthur up.

“Move your…” John says quietly, and Arthur tilts his chin up so John can clean his neck, wipe the sweat and dust from the hollow of his throat down to his collarbones, across to his right shoulder. It’s a movement that this hand has done countless times, but it’s a foreign feeling to receive this care through John, and Arthur’s torn between turning that over in his mind, inspecting it from all angles, and leaving well enough alone and just letting himself be cleaned.

“Is this, is it,” John asks, his movements faltering as he trails down to Arthur’s fingertips, then back up again. “Helping?”

“You’re the one who can see,” Arthur teases him, then bites his tongue. Last thing he wants now is John to realise the intimacy of this and bolt in the other direction, to hide behind his desperate walls of berating and anger. No, Arthur wants his hair washed. “You’re doing good, John," he says gently, and they’re bordering on something new here, but it’s a direction they’ve been slipping down for weeks now, and he’s not sure either of them could stop it if they even tried.

John moves his hand again, and Arthur misses the warmth of the soaked cloth for the moment it takes for John to submerge it. He brings it higher, this time, and squeezes it out over Arthur’s head. The water trickles down his face, and the surprise of it startles a small laugh from him.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, wiping his eyes dry more from habit than necessity. “Tickles.”

John hums but doesn’t say anything, and then his hand is in Arthur’s hair and massaging the water deep into his roots. His grip is firm as he scratches Arthur's head, squeezes down the back of his neck. If John can feel the goosebumps rising with his touch, then he says nothing of it as his fingers skim back up into Arthur’s hair, lathering the soap along the way. He gets more confident as he goes, blunt fingernails digging into the soft flesh behind each of Arthur’s ears, wiping the suds off his forehead before they drip into their eyes. Not sure who would feel that pain, but Arthur doesn’t want to find out.

Arthur makes no sound when John pulls his hand from his hair, but it’s a close thing, a grunt of protest dying in his throat. Doesn’t matter, though, because John’s back with more water, rinsing Arthur’s head clean of grime and soap and his very own soft touch.

“If you sit up,” John says softly when he’s finished washing Arthur’s hair and can’t reasonably linger for any longer, “then I can reach our legs.”

Arthur hums in response, not quite ready to comply but knowing he doesn’t have long. He lays there, soaking in it all, for just a moment longer. It’s a luxury, this bath, this privacy, and he doesn’t know when they’ll next get the chance for this kind of indulgence. He grips the rim of the bath with his right hand, trusting John to steady him with the other.

“Alright,” he says, sitting up and pulling his knees in. “Alright.”

#crayonturtle #ask #malevolent podcast #malevolent fic #thanks jerry #ask game #answered #ficlet

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deizuwu · 2 years

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okay don't feel pressured cause i've already used up my request bonus this week but how do you think the kids would adapt to the strange new world of humans? what are they doing right now?

after a few days of well-deserved rest and long overdue breaking down, camila will probably urge them to get out of the house for a while. i dont think theyre quite used to the human realm yet

#toh #the owl house #lumity #dont worry about requesting too much btw it gives me more ideas for content anyway LOL #my art #crayonturtle #im not tagging all of them again <3333 #i was gonna colour the whole thing and do backgrounds but my hand said enough is enough

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chonideno · 5 years

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I thought this was settled

“I thought we were clear,” Kirishima rasps, air lacking up there against the wall, “you know we shouldn’t,” he tries but he’s weak, he’s undone already and Bakugou knows it so well he doesn’t even keep his wrists pinned. That growl comes again to rumble against the skin of Kirishima’s shoulder and drum in his chest; “then stop me,” it says, and Kirishima feels Bakugou’s lips move around his collarbones - it feels like a dozen hands roaming under his shirt, a dozen layers too thick between them, but he doesn’t know which of it he wants and which of it he should push away. He’d never forgive Bakugou if someone were to come in and catch the heads of the agency grinding on each other, but he’s here too, isn’t he, letting himself be part of it, letting Bakugou’s tongue run up his throat, letting his convictions crumble one tug at his belt at a time.

send me a word/mood/line of dialogue and I’ll write 3 sentences based on it

#at this point who is surprised by the horns #kiribaku #wtf mag #crayonturtle #mag answers

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esperanzagalaxy · 2 years

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RQG request #14, a continuation of @crayonturtle‘s prompt... here’s many flavors of wilde being annoying, just for you. 💙 some needed a little fixing because i got too sketchy around the eyes, but, hey, the first and last one look really good! what other npc does it like him? what an mvp.

thank you for your requests, jerry!! <333

fineliner on yellow paper and digital colors.

IDs and a bonus under the cut!

[ID: a series of 8 portraits of wilde. they're drawn in black fineliner on cream paper, and colored digitally, in bold, flat colors with a little rendering. they each show him with a different, annoying expression, at a different point in the campaign.

in the first one, his hair is long and shiny, with a broad streak of white on the left half. he's wearing his fur-lined, dark brown coat and light makeup. he's speaking animatedly, with both eyes closed, and gesturing with his right hand.

in the second one, he's wearing a light purple button-up, and is leaning slightly forwards as if talking down to someone. he has a light smile and an eyebrow raised. his hair is long and slightly wavy, brown all over.

in the third one, he has a dark green suit and a yellow button-up with an orange cravat. he's got his chin slightly tilted upwards, looking down to his left with lips pursed into a smirk, in mocking interest.

the fourth is a reference to the knife cat meme, and shows wilde looking back with a mean little smile and narrowed eyes, tilting his head slightly away from a knife being pointed to his face.

in the fifth, he's shown putting a finger to his lips and the rest below his chin, watching with interest. his hair is a little shorter and wavier, his suit blue, and his shirt orange.

the sixth shows him in a faded orange yukata, leaning forwards again with an interested, if mocking, smirk. he has a scar across his right cheek, looks paler, and his hair is shorter and droopier, not really coiffed.

in the seventh, he has the scar and the fur-lined coat. he's looking over his right shoulder to the viewer with a wink and a sure half smile. he's pale and his hair is longer and more faded.

in the last one, he's wearing the robes of the thespian. the chest is purple with yellow lines, the sleeves bright pink, and it's also got a neck-ruff. he's smirking confidently with a hand to his chest, raising an eyebrow. his skin has more color and he looks less gaunt. he's got lavender lipstick and his hair is shiny and wavy at the ends, with the white streak to the side.

the bonus doodle is an ugly scribble of wilde in the robes of the thespian, standing with blank eyes and a silly smile, surrounded by sparkles and the word "STEALTH" above him. end ID]

#rqg #rusty quill gaming #rqg fanart #rqg oscar wilde #rqg wilde #doodle #mixed media #fanart #2022 #the great swarm of rqg requests 2k22

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