#Happee

[jerrsterrr]

me when posting oc lore on toyhouse, redesigning characters, sketchbook pages dedicated to the dca, my music, horror games, au's, fanart of my friends ocs, writing oneshots, and making designs to sell

[lictvison]

I notice I’m already at 300 followers YIPPEEE

[wrlckd]

[moffeen]

you fuel my psychopathic sweet side of my love for media and fandoms and I love it to the end of time

Aww 🥺 this made my morning

[dartumbles]

A to Z Challenge, R, Finished Friday

A to Z Challenge Another pair of Fleegle heeled Toe-Up-Two-At-A-Time Caron Peacock jumbo yarn. These are a little too big for me, so a friend will get them. I need to get them in the mail quickly before summer takes over. Reviewing this pattern again was fun. I like getting to know a pattern to reinforce my memory, so I don’t need to look at YouTube or patterns. I rate this pattern and this…

[st-hedge]

Aw shid there’s more of them this year

[tsuntsunfangirl]

*looks at the pedro pascal and joseph quinn girlies*

you guys, ok?

[starwaffle345]

so i found a funny glitch where if you don't guard impact angel's spear during ult trial then like all guard impacts after that will have edda pulling the spear out her ass and yeeting it at the enemy

[silmaranwe]

A Glance Across the Hall

Just My OC x Halbrand ❤️

The tavern was alive with the din of Númenórean blacksmiths and sailors, their voices swelling like waves crashing against the hull of a ship, punctuated by the clinking of mugs and the warm crackle of a fire. After a long, grueling day at the forge, the men gathered here to shed their weariness, trading coarse jokes, hearty laughs, and flagons of ale. Among them sat Halbrand, leaning back against the rough-hewn wood of a bench, a tankard resting loosely in his hand.

Though surrounded by the noise and revelry, he felt apart from it, as he often did. Halbrand had perfected the art of blending in without truly belonging—a skill forged over years of wandering, where the only constant was his need to keep moving, never letting his roots sink too deep. Númenor was no different. He had drifted to its shores in search of something, though he could not yet put a name to it. Perhaps he never would.

His gaze swept the room, as it always did, a quiet, searching glance that saw much but betrayed nothing. Familiar faces crowded the space around him, rough-hewn men with calloused hands and easy smiles, their boisterous voices echoing off the wooden beams. He chuckled absently at their banter, but his mind was elsewhere, far removed from the cheer. Beneath the surface, his thoughts churned like the restless sea—always calculating, always cautious. The work at the forge had given him a momentary reprieve, something to occupy his hands and stave off the gnawing sense of restlessness. But it was still there, lurking, a weight he carried that no one else could see.

He took a slow drink, the bitter ale sliding down his throat, leaving behind a burn that did nothing to dull the edge of his thoughts. As he set the tankard down, something shifted—a subtle change in the air, like the calm before a storm. His instincts prickled, and his gaze sharpened, sweeping the tavern with a new intensity, searching for what had set him on edge.

And then he saw her.

She was a whisper at the edge of his vision, a dark figure lingering near the shadows, away from the raucous heart of the tavern. For a moment, he thought she might be a trick of the light, an illusion conjured by his own mind. But no—she was real, as real as the air he breathed. An elf, unmistakably so. Her dark brown hair flowed down her back like a river at night, her dark eyes calm and watchful, gliding over the room with a quiet curiosity. It wasn’t just her presence that set her apart; it was something deeper, something in the way she moved—graceful, deliberate, as if she were merely observing a scene rather than partaking in it.

Halbrand had not seen her here before, and that alone was enough to capture his attention. In a place like this, new faces did not go unnoticed, and yet she seemed to drift through the crowd as if she belonged, yet somehow did not. There was a stillness to her, a quiet that contrasted sharply with the chaos around her, and Halbrand found his gaze lingering on her longer than he intended. She was different, and that was enough to make him curious.

She moved through the crowd like a shadow, never stopping, her eyes darting from face to face without ever settling. But then, as if she had felt the weight of his gaze, her eyes found his.

He did not look away.

The tavern noise dulled, the clamor of voices and clinking mugs fading into the background as their eyes met. There was no hesitation in her gaze, no flicker of surprise or discomfort. She held his gaze with a quiet confidence, a calm that unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite understand. It was as if she saw him—truly saw him—not as the man lounging with the blacksmiths, but as something more. And for a fleeting moment, Halbrand felt something stir within him, something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. Recognition, perhaps. Or was it simply curiosity?

The spark between them was brief, but it burned bright. She was an enigma, a puzzle he had yet to solve, and that alone made her dangerous. And yet, he couldn’t look away. His fingers drummed lightly against the tankard, a slow, rhythmic beat that mirrored the quickening pulse in his chest. There was a game at play here, whether she knew it or not, and Halbrand was curious to see how it would unfold.

Then, just as quickly as it began, the moment shattered. She blinked, breaking the connection, her gaze drifting away as she slipped deeper into the shadows of the room. The noise of the tavern rushed back in, jarring in its suddenness, and Halbrand was left staring at an empty space, his smirk fading into something close to disappointment. He took another drink, letting the bitter taste wash over whatever it was he had felt in that brief, electric exchange. She was gone now, lost in the crowd, and he wasn’t the kind to chase after shadows. Yet, he found his gaze wandering back to where she had stood, searching, as if he might catch another glimpse of her. But she was no longer watching him.

One of the smiths clapped him on the shoulder, jolting him back to the present with a laugh that was too loud, too bright. Halbrand forced a smile, nodding along with the man’s words, though his thoughts were miles away. The moment with the elf had been fleeting, a whisper in the dark, but it had left a mark—a bruise he couldn’t quite explain. She had seen him. Not just the man sitting in a crowded tavern, but the parts of him he kept hidden, even from himself.

And he knew, even as he turned back to his drink and the noisy camaraderie around him, that this would not be the last time he saw her.

Their paths had crossed once, like ships in the night, and he could feel it—some invisible thread pulling them back toward one another.

It was only the beginning.

[awesomehoggirl]

GENERALS AND MAJORS, ALWAYS SEEM SO UNHAPPY 'LESS THEY'VE GOT A WAR! ☆

my cwil + quack + schlatt designs!!!!!!!!!

[tench]

My favorite part about having Varric in the adventuring party in DAI is that I can always rely on him having Absolutely the Worst time being outside. I haven't heard a sound from Dorian (well, aside from him enjoying humidity), but This little Bitch can't shut the fuck up how it's too wet, or too rocky, or too far, or are we there yet, or how moldy his ass getting. I am constantly being impressed by how much this dwarf in his 40s radiates Old Man energy.

Once he managed to damage himself (on some too sharp grass texture I guess) while we were WALKING ON A ROAD. Honestly, aren't we all, creative people, feeling like this after we turn 30...

I really hope that regardless of his being alive status in the next game he will continue find the Fade as unpleasant as he did the wilderness of Ferelden and Orleis

[saphizzle]

Regular and normal new years eve behaviour <3

[atorionsbelt]

any interview: so the jamie and the roy friendship—

brett: LOVE STORY

(x)

[spiralstereo]

hyperlaser if they slayed

[cultfic]

#𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻𝑭𝑰𝑪. a private multimuse rp blog featuring muses from various media ( criminal minds, reservoir dogs, yellowstone, mindhunter, scream, ocean's 11, dune, the last of us & more ). entirely unaffiliated with the source material and highly triggering, with mentions of topics related to murder, brainwashing, self - harm, depression and others. 18+ only. 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦.

[mipexch]

hi i love your art!! especially your hollow knight art but all of it is great :) You have a very recognizable style so if someone asks me "hey do you know who drew this?" and shows me some of your art I can enthuse about it lol :> You're like a celebrity in my gay bugs group chat! so ya, love your art :)

that's so sweet! really means a lot to me that my art has had that big of an impact, heres some hollow knight jumbles