#this was such a stupid idea lmao

[wanologic]

10% of danny rumors on campus are 100% true

[kingfuc]

[suddenly-frankenstein]

good listener - purity - messy eater - false prophet

my little collection of bloody priests because i can't live a year without drawing one :)

[kamigui]

Say cheese—

Vampire Wally au: @nonomives

[ihatebrainstorm]

[The Portable Pickle Man]

Bonus: How they got him out

This is what I mean when I say "portable green pickle man"

[shotmrmiller]

pretend boyfriend but it's in a time where roads are nothing more than muddy tracks, making travel slow and cumbersome. the town's buildings are a mix of weathered wood and crumbling brick, faded paint peeling off their facades. wanted posters, yellow and tattered, are plastered on every available surface, faces of outlaws and fugitives who roam the countryside depicted in greyish ink.

the townsfolk go about their lives with a wary eye, and you go about yours with a sharp one, in search of opportunity: a cowboy too drunk off his wits to know his right from his left. the humble borough of blackthorn doesn't need any more working girls, no more ladies with hair down to their corseted waists beautifying the arms of both bounty hunters and farm hands alike.

that's fine, you reckon. you've always had a knack for survival. your deft fingers have made a living out of slipping into pockets and relieving men of their hard earned coin pouches when they lose themselves in drink and laughter. its not an easier life than that of the ladies in the saloon but it's yours, and you've learned to navigate it with equal cunning and charm.

but as people say, anything that can go wrong, will and tonight nothing seems to go right for you. just as you'd been slipping the stolen bills from your latest mark in between the swell of your breasts, he stirs from his drunken sleep, bedsheet tangled in his spurs as he struggles to rise onto unsteady feet. his movements are sluggish, muddy brown eyes blinking against the dim light of the quaint room.

you don't wait for him to ask any inane questions, you know when you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. you run out the door on bare feet, fisting the rough fabric of your dress to lift it above your ankles as you barrel down the stairs.

your shoulders ache from bumping into patrons as you try to quickly weave your way toward the door, your breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps. the saloon is a blur or faces and noise, the jaunty tune coming from the piano as fast paced as the galloping of your heart.

just as you reach the swinging doors, you glance outside through the dusty window panes and see someone right across the street in the patio of the drugstore.

the star on his chest gleaming even in the flickering light of the shop is distinctive. your heart sinks like a stone dropped into a well, the weight of the situation leaden over your puffed shoulders.

but you haven't made it this far while skirting around law and order without a sharp mind. your thoughts swirl in your mind as you run through options. a horse loosely tied to the hitching post out front, sleeping roll behind the saddle. you could take it but risk getting roped off by someone. slipping out the windows would draw too much attention. using the back door near the kitchen would have the owner on your arse.

shit. shit-

then you spot him. sitting alone at a table is a hulking, beast of a man. (his broad shoulders and burly frame makes him resemble more mountain than man tbh.) a small shot glass rests on the scratched surface before him, the only delicate item in his vicinity. the wide-brimmed hat he wears casts a shadow over his face but the glint in his eyes is unmistakable. maybe that's why even the other patrons have given him a wide berth. (the knotted scar that runs from the corner of his cheek pulling his lips into a permanent, twisted sneer makes the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end.)

desperation fuels your next move.

your hand trembles when you place it on the the exposed skin of his forearm that's covered in a fine layer of grime, as does your voice when you speak.

"hey-" you don't get to finish your sentence, feeling the words crumble into ash on your tongue when you realize you're out of time. the drunken idiot from upstairs is storming straight towards you, his nostrils flared, white etched on his knuckles. panic surges through you and so you move.

coming to stand behind the seated stranger, your arms cradle his large head, clammy palms flat on the sweat stained fabric of his union shirt. his body tenses under your touch, muscles cooling like a spring, but you muster all the bravado you can.

"if ya got a problem with me," your voice is steady despite the fear that's settled at the base of your spine, "take it up with my husband."

the drunk comes to an abrupt halt, his anger momentarily replaced by confusion, uncertainty, as he glances between you and the human(?) shield you're clinging to.

the room has fallen silent, all eyes on the unfolding drama. they watch with bated breaths, even the bartender had paused mid-polish, his hand frozen on the glass.

the man wavers, his resolve crumbling like freshly tilled dirt before you. but the final nail in the coffin is when your 'husband' grabs onto your arm and leads you to sit onto his lap, both your legs fitting on top of his one, feeling the tarnished buckle of his leather belt even through the couple of layers of your dress on your arsecheek, his arm cinching tightly around your waist.

his skin feels rough, scarred, yet warm, beneath your hand. (embarrassing that this surprises you.)

you can feel his voice vibrate from his chest and sink into your bones when he aids you in this mess you've created. "ya 'eard m'wife. piss off 'fore i make you."

his mouth twists into an ugly line but concedes defeat, telling your 'husband' to "keep his wh-wife on a tighter leash unless she's keen on ending up on a missing poster alongside the wanted ones."

when you turn in his lap to look outside the window, watching the drunk unsteadily get on his horse and leave, you give the man you're on a muted thanks and move to get up only-

the arm around your waist feels more like an iron band. you're can't get up. you can't leave. your feet don't even touch the wooden floorboards of the saloon. you turn your wide eyes toward him, lips parted in surprise.

he doesn't seem as surprised as you.

"wha'? thought you could jus' up and go 'bout your way?"

you open your mouth wider, to scream maybe, you aren't sure but he cuts you off with a sharp suck of his teeth.

"make trouble and there will be trouble. i'll drag your pretty arse to the sheriffs office by the hair."

the realization of what he is keeps you utterly frozen in place, any fight you'd had bleeding out of you.

a bloody bounty hunter. no wonder everyone had kept their distance.

"i'm gonna be finishin' this bottle and you'll be a good wife and draw me a bath in our hotel room."

(he plucks the dirty money from where you'd kept it and tosses it on the bar top, carrying you straight to where he'd hitched his horse and plops you in front, your back to his barrel of a chest. "youll bathe with me, gotta have you clean for our consummation.")

[eiswolfzero]

My first Shadow and Sonadow piece, how am I doing guys?

[galactic-knightmare]

Can we have stupid sauce Caine and stupid sauce Ragatha hanging out? I feel like shenanigans of epic proportions would go down with the two loose.

I think their a bit too busy just zoning out on the couch for shennanigans lmao

Although, it looks like someone decided to cut them off...

it seems Aible finally found the two. I don't think Caine is gonna be getting into the stupid sauce again anytime soon... (No, his hands didn't disconnect from his arms. Caine has all-seeing eyes, and Aible has an army of summonable hands instead.)

[justaz]

sometime during season 2 merlin realizes how dense camelot is. he’s been accused and even confessed to sorcery multiple times and no one has believed him. even when aredian accused him of sorcery, uther was hesitant to execute him. UTHER was HESITANT to execute him after being accused of SORCERY. merlin gets accused of sorcery bc people think he’s put them under a love spell. he’s gone to arthur at the darkest of times and whispered how he could perform a spell to save everyone and arthur bites back that its not the time for jokes.

merlin realizing how stupid everyone is. he tests it a few times: he gives gwen a bouquet of flowers and tells her he conjured them with magic, she just laughs and thanks him for the flowers, mumbling about how funny and ridiculous he is; he joins the servants in their ranting over their jobs and says that he has a trick up his sleeve to complete his job…magic!! they ohh and ahh sarcastically and mutter how much easier their jobs would be if any of them actually could do magic; he tells leon straight up that he’s planning on killing uther with magic, leon just laughs, pats his back, and wishes him luck.

the whole city is so fucking stupid!!! merlin tests his luck further and blatantly commits acts of magic in front of people and they’re just like “:o how odd…oh well” and go about their day. someone comments on merlin’s eyes going gold and he’s just like “mmmmyeah my eyes just do that in the sun sometimes” and NO ONE questions it. he notices how people go out of their way to help him and they slip him things for free or just as gifts. he notices how much he gets away with with arthur and morgana and even uther. merlin spills a bit of wine and uther goes “i will never understand why my son insists on keeping you around” and merlin smirks and goes “i put a spell on him” and uther throws his head back in laughter

merlin doesn’t perform obvious acts of magic, he doesn’t yell out in the old tongue in front of anyone or whatever, but he gets away with magic so much and he knows that no one will ever truly suspect him or accuse him anymore (and if he is accused then it wont go anywhere, uther will just roll his eyes and wave away the accusation) so he just stops giving a fuck. he ends up helping morgana with her magic and is like “yeah this kingdom is so fucking stupid i wouldn’t even worry about it girl”

[pixlatedvampire]

It’s been ten years since I finished a drawing so please enjoy these two idiots I drew all the way back in 2021 😭🤣

[thetriangletattoo]

grocery shopping

[amelia-yap]

I have discovered your Derg AU/Dragon Weiss and I’m very much in love. Thank you 🙇🏻‍♂️🙇🏻‍♂️

glad to hear that! im very much obsessed about her and she holds all my brainworms captive

[poscariastri]

my dumbass could NOT be a sports interviewer

[latenightsundayblues]

I got bored lol

[fireflysugarpie]

svsss!au where Luo Binghe is the equivalent of Taylor Swift, Shang Qinghua is his harried manager, and Shen Yuan is a swiftie/stan that Luo Binghe is inexplicably obsessed with

[sandersontheside]

it's not simple to say, most days I don't recognize me