Mar 12
as the years go by, he inches closer and closer to the camera until there are no more indian wells polaroids
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as the years go by, he inches closer and closer to the camera until there are no more indian wells polaroids
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I should probably be doing my homework, but this fic has been hammering at my head for a while now, because it gave me a delicious amnesiac stan from misinterpreting the whole situation.
I like the anguish and disgust in their actions, please I need more of this!!!
I'm need an amnesiac Stan touching Ford and then regretting it
I don't even like the character designs in tf prime that much but I can't lie. I had fun with these sketches
Nobody asked but I'm sharing anyway
reincarnated Arthur is my favorite hc because the idea of waking up 1500 years in the future is a psychological horror
In the same vein I believe that a reincarnated Arthur would be an artist-painting flashes of dreams (memories of Camelot) and spinning grand stories (memories of Camelot)
Anyway.
i can’t even remember when i drew this, maybe 2019 ? anyway, here you go
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Prompt (511)
The hero stared out at the rain pouring down. They stood at the threshold of the building, hands clutching the doorframe, unwilling to go out into the storm unarmed.
“Do you mind?” A voice said from behind the hero.
The hero scooted out of the way before they realized it was the villain. The villain walked outside without giving them a second glance, and opened up their umbrella. The hero looked away, trying to hide their envy.
“Hey,” the villain said.
The hero returned their stare to their companion. The villain was staring back at the hero—arm outstretched—offering them a second umbrella. The hero stared at the umbrella like it was an alien relic.
“Why do-” the hero began.
“You never check the weather before you leave the house,” the villain said, their face bored.
With that, they pushed the offering into the hero’s slack hands and walked off into the rainstorm.
sorry Tony, we'll always have Scarif