#just in case i suppose

[hehearse]

[hearts401]

Juzi....

flats cuz i like the colors

[eclown4hire]

Happy new years! Here is Koga and Adonis' mums to celebrate.

[tybenadryl]

this silly fairy is so awesome / alts below

[galacticrain]

Felt like drawing these guys

[discountdps]

Me playing tank this tier :>

[wickedsnack]

she's fucking hopeless

[ofvalor]

@malka-lisitsa / plotted starter.

King's Landing was just a bunch of piss and shit stained bricks for all Yara cared about. The only reason she was here was to negotiate. The thought of it makes her curl her lip up - entertaining Cersei's whims to make sure that war wouldn't be on their platter. She'd much rather be entertaining the whores of the city on her ship. Or entertaining the call of the wind and salt and rain on the way back to the Iron Islands.

Being Lady Reaper, though, as much as she hated the pomp and circumstance and political tendrils of it all - was enjoyable. For the most part.

Getting through the day would have her needing a stiff drink, but she was able to get through the first bit of it easily - A strong smile out of the the corner of her mouth and a deep bow to the Queen, and they were ushered off by the court into a more private area. Wasting no time in making herself and her style known, she kicked up her feet onto a nearby chair and leaned back as Cersei gave her a tight-lipped smile. The Hand was due anytime. As well as other allies.

Hours later as the meeting was beginning to come to its end and she couldn't refuse the polite offer to dinner - she finally caught eyes on the handmaiden. A familiar sight. Though she couldn't quite place where she knew this particular girl? A house in the slums? The Islands? Ah, Norvos. The Free Cities themselves. It'd been a while since she'd made that journey.

Once the meeting was adjourned and they were to come back later, Yara found herself 'getting lost' in following this woman around, making an effort to slide in front of her with that cocky smile and sure-of-herself stance. "Thought I recognized you. Katerina, right?"

[known-as-e-around-here]

Redrawing one of my favourite panels from last year UmU

[viscerism]

almost 23 years on this planet and i'm still incapable of telling the difference between the sensations of hunger and nausea

[candyje11yfish]

nacho ahhahaha (i hope this looks cool)

[gnomecity]

Coffee and methylphenidate I feel SO GOOD!!!!!!!! But I am reminding myself DO NOT DO THIS AGAIN.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Gravity Falls was strange, and the townsfolk even stranger, it seemed.

The twins had been unceremoniously dropped off on the side of the dusty road, the roar of the bus engine fading away as the driver wordlessly drove off without fanfare. The poor man had almost seemed close to tears ever since they had entered the thresholds of this seemingly innocuous town, all too eager to speed off and away while leaving the two children coughing and wheezing in its dust.

It had not even been a full minute since their lackluster drop-off before they became well acquainted with the oddly sociable and irritatingly chatty inhabitants of Gravity Falls. A single conversation with a pair of boisterous policemen already told them all they needed to know about the history of the town, as well as the whereabouts of their Great Uncle Ford.

"The Mystery Shack," the townsfolk had called it. It seemed as though their distant uncle had earned himself somewhat of a reputation amongst the locals. He was the town cryptid; the ever elusive mad scientist that lived in the outskirts of town in this so called "Mystery Shack". No one really knew who he really was; but everyone knew exactly who he was.

So, when the twins found themselves stood hand in hand in front of the rickety old shack, they hadn't really known what to expect when door had swung open with a deafening slam.

He was a strange man, their Great Uncle Ford. He seemed nothing like the cackling looney lab-coated madman they had imagined from what meager hushed information the townsfolk had offered them. It seemed as though the tales of a scientist gone mad that experimented on stray children that wandered into his spooky "Mystery Shack" was but a cruel rumor.

He mostly just seemed unhealthy, to be honest. His sickly, pale frame utterly drowned in the thick red woolen sweater that practically seemed to hang off of his lanky body like a second flap of skin. It made him look almost child-like, like a kid trying on their parents clothes; which somewhat diluted the intimidating effects of his looming height.

Although, the townsfolk's apparent fear of their Great Uncle Ford seemed to have some merit.

For one, Grunkle Ford really didn't seem all too human. He wasn't inhumane, per se; just, not entirely himself, if that made any sense. Looking at him was like looking at an incomplete puzzle; or looking at someone who you remember all your life wearing a hat, suddenly coming to work one day without one, and it takes a little too long for you to remember what is missing.

It was like Grunkle Ford had lost pieces of himself. Somewhere, to someone. His eyes seemed... almost empty. They were a little too dull and a little too opaque, lacking the lively shine of life everyone else seemed to have.

Another thing was that Grunkle Ford wasn't entirely alone. There was... someone else. The twins couldn't exactly pinpoint where, but they could feel its stare, whatever or whoever it was. They could almost feel its stare, a non-existent eye trailing a weird prickling sensation across their skin. The twins recalled the words of one of the townsfolk, a tall bestacled man with haunted blind eyes; although unseeing they could have sworn his gaze never seemed to leave them, as all he said was:

"Don't catch IT staring at you"

The twins had an odd feeling that IT was looking at them right now.

They didn't even notice when the pale bony hand of Grunkle Ford suddenly reached into their personal space, barely registering his words at all, much less the extra fingers that adorned each of his rough, worn palms.

They didn't take the hand.

If the twins had thought the outside of the shack looked decrepit, the inside seemed somehow even worse.

Every inch of exposed wall, ceiling or floor were utterly covered by sprawling symbols, summoning circles, and indecipherable words that seemed to be in an entirely different language than any the twins knew. They overlapped and tangled into one another into big, messy, red splotches of clustered nothings.

There were notes, diagrams on ripped pieces of aged looking paper scattered everywhere, with hardly any room for post-it notes squeezed wherever there was room. Lit and unlit candles were placed absolutely everywhere; either hidden in the dark corners or openly stood in the middle of the floor; sometimes in a circle, sometimes not. The melted fallen wax had coagulated into a hard white mess onto the floor; the smell of cheap vanilla scented candles intermingling with the smell of halloween fake blood (and Dipper was convince there had to be some real blood there, too) to create a sour concoction that stung their noses unpleasantly.

The shack was sparsely furnished with rarely any furniture at all. Not even a couch, the tables and chairs simply pushed to the walls to make more space for the endlessly swirling symbols and pentagrams. The twins were hesitant of stepping on any of the summoning circles, carefully sidestepping the candles and walking over the line of the pentagrams.

The attic, where they would be residing, was not much better.

Maybe they did end up in a mad scientist's house, after all.

[hyper-voice]

Piers posts photos of himself with his heavy stage makeup and shitheads will comment stuff "you'll never be a real woman" and he'll just sit there like. "uh. thanks." Piers:

[leahaart]

Eeepy boys

[shepscapades]

Silly thang because this clip took me out way more than it should have LMAO