#and don’t get it twisted

[theoldkyokodied]

The Allegiance of the Ascended Vampire and the New God of Magic

[anna-scribbles]

a NORMAL comic i drew BY MYSELF with NO HELP from @hamsternamedmarinette . in case u were wondering. <3

[cometrose]

zhongli is so fucking funny when hes avoiding people like venti last year and neuvillette this year he can’t catch a break he moves like they’re his ex husbands 😭

[heavenbarnes]

“He’s here again.”

You could swear the girl from reception says it like she knows something. Like there’s some swirling inside joke that everyone was in on,

except you.

Instead, you were left with that swirling feeling in your stomach as the elevator traveled to reception. A swirling that should’ve been laced with fear, but wasn’t.

One that was gripping tight in your stomach as the doors opened and you were eclipsed by a sun wearing blue tradesman’s clothes.

Ugly bastard.

Mean face with a shorn head, snarled lip and cauliflower ears. Tattooed arms like battering rams and tree trunk legs leading to steel cap boots like anvils.

And he was here for you.

“Um- I’m not actually in facilities.”

You could’ve cursed yourself for sounding so small. You’ve lead meetings, addressed crowds, argued points with a voice like cracked thunder.

But he takes one step towards you and,

“B-but that’s okay, I’ll take you.”

And he doesn’t say a word, just grunts as he steps into the lift with you and you feel the tension spring.

He never says a word.

He met you for the first time three years ago, the girl from facilities was on maternity leave and you happened to be the lucky duck who sat beside the reception door.

Three years later you’d changed floors and you hadn’t even seen him for at least six months. But he still asks for you.

“He always asks for you.”

You’d shushed your colleague, boasting about being helpful and having a tendency to be in office more often than not.

“Probably doesn’t want to remember another name.”

“Then how do you explain the time he refused the job when you were off sick?”

You don’t explain it, you actually try not to think about it.

When the doors open on the floor with the broken toilet, he follows you along the hall like a dog.

Like a hound.

The floor shakes every time he puts his boot on it and he actually manages to make you feel very small against picture windows.

Your colleagues look away when he walks past.

The sign for the ladies toilet at the end of the hall is like a beacon of hope, you can let him in and leave him be and then pretend to be on a phone call when it’s time for him to leave.

Until you get inside.

The sound of running water from the broken cistern echoes off the walls as you show him to the cubicle.

“It’s that one.”

He gives you a look that says “no shit” before he lowers his head to step through the stall door. He must hear your shoes scuff against the floor as you break for your exit.

“Stay put.”

You tell yourself you’re just shocked it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice. He’s British, Mancunian you reckon. Caught you by surprise.

That’s why you obediently spin on your heel and press your back to the wall.

No other reason.

You listen to the sound of grating porcelain as he removes the cistern lid and messes about with the flushing mechanism.

Your eyes catch him in the mirror, watching the way his back flexes under his work shirt as he reaches a bloody great paw into the water.

“Piece of shit.”

Second thing you’ve ever heard him say. Granted, it’s under his breath but he definitely said it. You try not to show any expression lest he have eyes in the back of his head.

Wouldn’t put it past him.

The sound of running water stops but you can tell by the huffing and puffing that he’s not fixed it, you can tell by his next outburst he’s not even close.

“Cunt of a thing.”

You almost let a smile slip onto your face before you’re blanching at the sound of your name.

“In ‘ere.”

He’s the mutt, he’s the hound with sharp teeth and clipped ears. He’s mean and he’s nasty and he’s not good with others, definitely not house trained.

But it’s you whose ears prick up at his call and immediately walk to join him in the small space. Show dog.

A retriever, running towards the sound of a gun.

The cubicle is small enough as is but with Simon (the embroidered patch on his shirt tells you, he’s never actually given you his name) in here it feels like a coffin.

You end up with your back to the wall again, this time with his elbow all but digging into your stomach. He’s got pieces of the flusher in his hand and he’s sending them your way.

Obedience in spades, you’re letting him place the dirty parts right in the flat of your hand.

Getting you as dirty as the rest of him.

“Oh, okay.”

You catch him look at you out the corner of his eye before he huffs, again, and reaches right back into the cistern.

He almost looks disappointed, dissatisfied- like he’d hope you’d put up more of a fight with him. Like you’d shove the metal right into his chest and really give him something to huff about.

But you leave your hand out stretched and let him pick from it at his leisure. Take from you as he pleases.

(He wonders if that’s a transferable skill)

To your delight (and his dismay) the toilet is back in perfect order and after three test flushes you can both leave the tiny fluorescent cave you’d been inhabiting for the last fifteen minutes.

“Um, do you need to go back upstairs or are you good to go?”

He dries his hands on the thighs of his trousers before he stares at you blankly. He snarls his lip in a way the makes the scar above it stretch and you wonder if it hurts him.

(If it does, you wonder if that’s why he does it)

He turns without warning and suddenly it’s you following him back down the hall. Struggling to keep up, pretty pampered little dog following this great big mutt around on his heels.

“Need t’go down to my van- I’ll show you.”

You could probably stop walking here. It would’ve been very easy for you to break to your desk and honestly? He probably would’ve let you.

“Oh, you don’t need me to access the garage.”

But you’re following him to the elevator anyway and you think you see that same air of disappointment drift across his features as he realises how easy you’ve made yourself.

“Don’t tell me what I don’t need.”

[the-meme-monarch]

hlvr based things :]

[balancethescales]

yes im having conflicting thoughts abt the bear s3 just like everyone else and their mothers and no i dont think that sydcarmy can exist as they are now BUT to be loved is to be known and sydney literally reprinted the tickets with wider margins solely because she noticed and knows that carmy likes to write in them. so. tell me how i’m supposed to jump ship when such a simple moment says so much about how good they can be?????

[digitalmyyth]

Love looking at fanart of red guy love that the way people draw him is on a scale like this

[the-call-of-the-ocean]

Being a member of Flint’s crew must be exhausting. Twice a week you’re put in an impossible, desperate situation then the captain does something unhinged and saves the day in a way no one understands but everyone has come to expect anyway. He tells you to do something, you do it; two hours later, he tells you to do the exact opposite and you do it too (he makes a compelling argument). The crew voted him off six times already and somehow he’s still captain; no one has anything to say about it. There’s no way he’ll wriggle out of this one, you tell yourself for the eighth time this month. No one wants to die for him. You’ll all do whatever he wants you to do. He can control the weather.

[ihavesomejays]

text transcription:

Many springs ago, I perceived a sea of flowers upon a lake. I thought to myself that those fleeting colors held indescribable beauty.

The next time I perceived those colors was many years later, when the medic’s tent had blinded me to all but red. The radiance of that shining star was lost on my eyes.

Now, my eyes no longer perceive the subtleties in the colors around me.

But I am content.

For I can now see the most brilliant colors in my universe.

anyways yeah why did they fucking do that to jiaoqiu bro

the planning for this experimentalish comic is under keep reading

[coatengine]

Whenever you guys hate on Vil Schoenheit remember he CANONICALLY gives thank you kisses, he would not refuse to shake your hand. He really isn’t that mean, he’s just confident and assertive.

[milktea-grn]

st. andrews

[juniepops]

Samus on a mission especially in her armor is really intimidating and badass and scary and hot. Samus off the clock in her like personal clothes is kinda quiet and awkward and has a tgirl slouch and a strange sense of humor. Get it through your head because I’m not gonna say it again

[ewwww-what]

an archdevil and a presidential candidate sneak into a gay bar

flatcolor + closeups below :)

[hischughes1386]

Say what you want about the Oilers, or Connor McDavid but for me as a Devils fan, I will not quickly forget how for the DEVILS pride night at the prudential center, visiting team Captain Connor McDavid was the only player to use pride tape during warmups. No Devils player used it that night. So yeah, go Connor I’d be happy to see you lift the cup.

[lazylittledragon]

what do you get when you have a very uncoordinated child, a glass door and a single dad who sometimes forgets both of these things

[luyo-mi]

Them