#I jumped on that idea!!

[ellstersmash]

things i learned today:

solas could've avoided this whole mess and probably had enough free time to take lavellan on a nice little date if he just took up archdemon hunting instead of all the rituals and the other dastardly deeds

lucanis won't romance rook if they go to minrathous but will romance neve because despite saying he's cool, he's not cool

everyone's nice and no one has slaves or anything because *checks forearm* the blight

all your companions get along with you and each other because also the blight

even though he's like, really manipulative and uses people all the time, solas accumulated but then gave up an entire army's worth of spies and agents because he decided he wasn't ready for a management position

red lyrium isn't really around because—and you are not gonna believe this—the blight

solas just lies. all the time, outright, to everyone. so I guess he was actually only super careful to not ever actively lie in Inquisition as like a fun little challenge to himself

tying the veil to his life force (you know, the guy who couldn't even take down an archdemon on his own and actually just got his ass beat so is not in great shape in the best ending) fully repaired the veil! \o/ don't ask how you wouldn't understand it it's not a big—

everyone near minrathous is cured of the blight! but @ everyone else you may be entitled to compensation 🥀

the only ritual solas has ever gotten or will ever get right is cleansing the idol into the ritual dagger. good thing too bc it was way more dangerous than this one. other than that, wrong about everything ever

elven magic is like not that big a deal, dude

the griffons are, unfortunately, long-term fucked

the elves don't see the crossroads differently anymore because uh.. because....... war

spite does not get involved in rookanis sexytimes. so perhaps him spreading his wings was actually just in preparation to leave bc ew they're kissing gross

NO ONE cares about the goddamn spirits

[housecow]

rolls for days!!!

[frenchublog]

[supine-ly]

Kim dokja somehow won the custody battle (he fully expected Yjh to win) and he doesnt know how to proceed.

[heartorbit]

figure skating set right now please. thanks

[256gb]

in case you need further proof re: penn & teller’s shithead basketball

[sysig]

Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)

[alchemistc]

Found this in my drafts and decided to finish it up, written before the Abby reveal so we're just pretending that never happened, have some outsider pov of the alt timeline where Tommy and Buck met before Buck was at the 118.

Tommy is being weird. That's the only way Hen can describe it. He's been quiet on calls, none of the usual banter and posturing she's used to; he's been quiet in the station, prone to staring at the space between his lap and the dinner table even as Chim spouts off some ironic quote that would have had him cheesing it up a few weeks previous; he's been quiet as he packs his shit and heads out for his truck. Each afternoon since he'd quietly announced his transfer to the 217, he's been quiet, and it's weird.

Hen's not entirely surprised. Tommy's nothing if not protective of his own feelings - years and years of Gerrard all hanging over their heads even though he'd admitted a few drinks deep one night that he was pretty positive his professionally scathing complaint about Gerrard was very likely what tipped the scales ("Could have been Sal's, though," he'd said with a shrug as his eyes drifted to the head on his beer.). From what she's gleaned off Chim, there's a good chance he'd been an ass in part to protect himself from feeling too bad about losing someone, too (again) - not that that's any type of excuse for the shit he'd had a hand in putting her through. An excuse for the things he's said, in the heat of the moment, in the quiet caverns of life under a shitty captain.

(Stumbled apologies, serious expressions on a face softened only by the shots he'd been buying all night, words said and unsaid between them and the gaping maw between a Chim happy to accept and move on while Hen downed her tequila and waited for the other shoe to drop.)

It's been years since then. Years and years winding between them all, a dozen captains and more than a few transfers of good firefighters away from the 118, and something good and warm and special brewing in their house with the arrival of the captain who'd made family dinners a daily occurrence.

She'd sort of expected Tommy might finally open up, when those family dinners kept going and Nash kept staying and things started to settle into something closer to friendly instead of the soldiers of war camaraderie they'd grown so used to. And maybe he has, to someone who isn't Hen - who'd taken his little efforts to change at face value and refused to put in more work than that for a colleague who'd made mostly bare minimum efforts post-Gerrard, always accepting the new status quo, refusing to make waves. She respects Tommy. Trusts him on the job, and sometimes off of it when they've had a shitty shift and need to decompress before they go home to the people in their lives who can never really understand losing someone to the heat of a fire, to blood loss and blunt force trauma. Doesn't care for him the way Chim seems to, doesn't really desire a closer relationship than the one they've maintained through the turnover of captains and the 48's they pull on occasion.

But Tommy's being weird, and Hen's pretty sure she's the only one who sees it.

She waits until she's sure Chim has a date to hit up Tommy for an after shift drink, and his eyes crinkle around the corners in suspicion because he knows just as well as she that she's putting them in an awkward position without the buffer zone of an extra coworker to fill in the blank spots of the things they don't say to each other. He'll be gone in a week. There's not a single fucking reason for her to try to get to know him better now.

"Sure thing, Wilson," he says, and when he offers to drive them both Hen makes up some excuse about needing her car in case of some Denny related emergency.

---

She expects it to take a while. Ply him with a few drinks, figure out what it is about Howie that always puts Tommy at ease so quickly when they're out like this and try to replicate it - he keeps things close to the vest but Hen has ways of weaseling things out of people once she's got them where she wants them.

Tommy sighs and picks at the label on his bottle. Thins his lips, and stares at her sideways. "I'm seeing someone," he says, in an undertone, and Hen hasn't even taken her first sip from the bottle he'd ordered for her, too, while she scrounged up one of the smaller booths. His eyes dart, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, that no one here recognizes him, and Hen - Hen knows that look. She just can't square that look with Mr. Toxic Heterosexuality himself.

Hen takes a sip. Forces herself not to vibrate out of her own skin because - because - because she's gotta wait this shit out. Could be he's found himself attracted to some weird goth chick, or a woman with meat on her bones, in which case he's in for a big ole smack to the head or one of the looks she reserves for when the boys get a little too caught up in their locker room talk.

He darts his gaze up. Meets hers, steady on, for the first time in...weeks, actually, now that she's thinking about it, and the guilt there in his eyes sure is something to behold.

"He's younger," Tommy says, and Hen rolls her tongue over her teeth so she doesn't do something stupid like hone in on that pronoun with either glee or full-on righteous anger.

Hen narrows her eyes instead, and is surprised that he keeps her gaze. She's expecting - unnecessary contrition, or maybe a ducked head or excuses. He chews on the inside of his lip and chuffs out a self deprecating laugh.

"I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing and he still lives in a frat house."

Hen's mind goes somewhere inappropriate, and she has to stop herself from making a truly horrible hand gesture because he can't possibly mean -

He rolls his eyes. "I know where to stick it, Wilson, that's not the issue."

She has about half a million questions queueing - things she's not sure they're close enough to ask, things she doesn't actually want the answer to but stick there in the back of her mind anyway, things she'd never ask someone who'd been kind to her from the outset. "How'd you do it?" he asks, and Hen remembers the way he'd stood, arms crossed and face blank and something sad and vulnerable in his face while she lectured from her red and chrome pulpit. Jesus. He's known. He's known a while.

"I've never exactly been passing," she tells him, and winces at the aggression in her voice, in that statement, in the very existence of the idea. He shoots her a bitchy look that's far more familiar, in line with their normal dynamic. It has her rolling her shoulders back, has her sitting up a little more in her seat. "Is that - are you asking me how to come out?"

Tommy shrugs. Tips his head. "You're the one who wanted to get drinks."

"And if I hadn't asked?"

She knows the answer. The dumbass would have transferred out of the 118 with no one the wiser. Probably fallen off all the group chats, squared with himself for however long it took, decided one way or another who to tell from there. But he's here now, talking to Hen. Telling Hen, the person he's probably the least close to.

Hen sighs. Takes a longer drag off her beer this time while Tommy folds up a piece of the label he's ripped off. She's not gonna be his fucking gay guru. They're not anywhere approaching that close.

He could have lied, though, is the thing. Seems like he's maybe been lying for a while, if the uncharacteristic fidgeting is anything to go by. She knows him under stress, knows him when he's walking through literal fire. Figurative fire is an entirely different matter. She doesn't know that Tommy.

The words that fall out of her mouth aren't the ones she's aiming for. "You and Sal." she says, and then bites down the rest of that sentence like it'll burn them both. His eyes dart up. He shifts in his seat.

"The only reason I'm saying a word is because the answer is no," he says, and - yeah that's fair. Everyone has the right to come out of the closet in their own fucking time.

"So this kid," Hen says, moving on, and - oh. There's that look. It's a little dreamy-eyed, the way he's been getting sometimes when he's looking down at his phone and trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "What's the deal there?"

"He's new," Tommy says, and Hen can feel her brow tic up of it's own accord, because he says it with the authority of someone who isn't new. Hen has to wonder exactly how many times the perpetually single Tommy joke had been made while Tommy was less than single. God, that had to have stung, hadn't it? "He's - apparently he didn't realize he was flirting until I kissed him about it."

That's remarkably brave for a man who isn't out to a single person he and Hen are mutually acquainted with. At least as far as she knows - Chim can't keep a secret to save his damn life so at least she knows he doesn't know.

"You know you didn't have to tell me any of this."

His expression is wry. He bites his lip, curls his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head like he's clearing cobwebs. "The transfer isn't the only thing I had on the docket for major life changes."

Karen's gonna be pissed if Hen doesn't get the dirt, she tells herself as she leans forward, so she throws a teasing edge to her voice as she quirks a brow. "This life change have anything to do with your baby gay or is that just a natural progression of the coming out process?"

Tommy's posture eases, just a little. He gives her a look that she's more familiar with seeing when Chim's in the booth next to him, or they're elbow deep in shit-talk at the station.

"Happy accident, actually," he says, and Hen leans in to listen to him dish when his eyes go all soft and gooey.

___

She's known Evan Buckley a total of six hours the first time he mentions his boyfriend. There's a nervous edge to it, like he's still testing the word out, like the syllables are unfamiliar, and he glances down at the phone in his lap right after he says it, like he's double checking something. Hen wouldn't have pegged him for it, for all that she tends not to make assumptions. It's just. He's so.

Hen shoves back against the stereotypical bullshit and throws him a bone, because he looks like he's fucking desperate to share information on the fact that someone cares enough about him to let him call them his boyfriend. She lobs a layup, something relatable about 'my wife, Karen'.

"Yeah, Tommy said you were married."

Hen pauses. Wonders if she can turn her head like an owl so that she doesn't have to shift her weight to look behind her at where Buck is happily washing dishes, elbow-deep in sudsy water. There's no one else up here with them - most of the shift is working off dinner downstairs.

"We never have meals like this at home, I'm lucky if the guys I live with don't steal my last packet of ramen before I can get to it," he'd said, and she remembers Tommy grinning at the memory of this Evan he'd been seeing being inordinately impressed by the fact that Tommy could grill a steak. ("Jesus, Kinard, are you sure you're not robbing the fucking cradle?")

Hen shifts. Eyes him a little more carefully as he turns his head to meet her gaze, and - holy shit, she's actually feeling a little protective of Tommy Kinard right now. "He know you're out here sharing his business?" It's not the tone she's going for - admonishing instead of exploratory, but Buck just grins at her over his shoulder, like he's pleased Tommy has someone watching out for him. Shit. She'd been a little concerned that Tommy was in over his head, stuck up on the idea of being out out and clinging to the first boy that batted his lashes, but it feels like maybe there's more to it than that. She can't square that with what has to be at least a decade of years between them, but -

Love is love, and all that.

"We, uh. We've been talking about it."

Hen raises an eyebrow, because that's not actually a green light to air Tommy's business.

"He - well last night we talked about it again. So. I mean it's not like Facebook official or anything. But he said it was cool to talk to you. A-all of you. He's - everyone at Harbor knows me."

It hurts a bit to know that Tommy's been there less than six months and felt more comfortable being himself with a bunch of strangers, but...

It's good. That he has that. That he's not walking the world just shoving bits and pieces of himself away.

Hen watches him rinse his arms and square his shoulders and shift to face her. "How'd you two meet, anyway?" she asks, because Tommy had been so stuck on the trying to figure out how to have an honest relationship piece that she'd never gotten around to asking.

Buck's expression could be easily mistaken for a solar flare, for the way it lights up the whole loft.

[sunlit-mess]

3 am

[thevioletcaptain]

i genuinely don't care how good a piece of ai generated art or writing looks on the surface. i don't care if it emulates brush strokes and metaphor in a way indistinguishable from those created by a person.

it is not the product of thoughtful creation. it offers no insights into the creator's life or viewpoint. it has no connection to a moment in time or a place or an attitude. it has no perspective. it has no value.

it's empty, it's hollow, and it exists only to generate clicks (and by extension, ad revenue.)

it's just another revolting symptom of the disease that is late stage capitalism, and it fucking sucks.

[zondearts]

More More doves

[eaissilyy]

Someone’s playing music.

Hello you can’t expect me not to feel anything when you placed Mogh the Sewer Guy™ and Morgott’s seal (sealed by Morgott the grace-given btw) in front of Frenzied jumping hell. There is no way they didn’t explore every corner of the sewer (so they can find the safe and least cold place to sleep… not to find the melting eyes disease) and found this abandoned catacombs with thousands corpses by accident.

Also this is perspective practice and then I found put that 1) I have no idea how it works 2) I make it up just to look believable enough and not look at it again 🙏🙏

[lotus-pear]

have u ever drawn kunichuu before,,,,they would be so elegant in ur style

you are SO lucky i had this lying around...............anyway i think they should makeout forreal god bless i love it when my two favs are in love

[pandadrake]

Shots fired by the Spider-man sequels.

Was ruminating on how Miles and Miguel are technically both 'Spider-man 2' in their respective universes. Got me thinking about the other Spider-successors in the cast, and also what if they all got matching T-shirts or something.

[rhiangalaxy]

Congrats GYX on the gay awakening <3 (Immortal alliance conference pt.1) (Next)

[ID: A Scum Villain Comic. Panel one first depicts Chibi!Plant Yuan sitting on a bench resting his head on his hands with a disgruntled look. A caption says "Waiting for Binghe to register as SQQ banned SY from participating due to 'past incidents'" His demonic butterfly floats in front of him. A voice from off-camera says "Shen-Gongzi?" a zoomed in Chibi!PY perks up in surprise and his butterfly hides. A non-chibi Gongyi Xiao is shown with has hands cupped in a martial salute and bright expression saying, "You're Peak Lord Shen's son right? This one is Gongyi Xiao from Huan Hua." A chibi PY in a box in the corner continues to look up in surprise with his hands slightly lifted from his face with thought bubbles saying 'Woah..so bright.. Kinda reminds me of Binghe.'

Panel two depicts a non-Chibi! PY looking up with a gentle smile with his hands in his lap, replying "Yes, this one is Shen Yuan! Are you here to participate in the Conference?" The rest of this panel is depicted in chibi form. GYX sits next to SY and responds, "This one is! Is Shen-Gongzi not?" to which SY closes his eyes with a disgruntled/tired look and places his head back in his hands, stating "My A-Die banned me. Said this one attracts too much demonic attention..." to which GYX points and says "Oh? Is that why you have that demonic butterfly?" Leading SY to have a panicked look, his thought bubble saying "Shit" whilst he verbally says "Please don't tell my A-Die I brought her."

The final panel has chibi!GYX raising his hands up to placate SY with an amused nervous expression saying "Don't worry! This one won't. It seems very friendly, with you especially." To which non-chibi!SY, now having his butterfly balanced on one of his hands, the other raised up as if to gently pet it, looks down fondly and says "Yes she is... She's been with me a long time." A very flustered Chibi!GYX replies softly "oh". End ID]

[cheekinpermission]

17 for the twisted oc event please

17. What does your OC think of the Ramshackle ghosts?

The origins of the hair pins! I really want Yuu to have some kind of reason for being in Twisted Wonderland, but if the game isn't going to give me one then I'LL DO IT

Once they got past the "ha ha you should die with us!" introductions, they got along just fine.

In the story, the Ramshackle ghosts seem to care about Yuu and Grim. They made costumes for them for the first Halloween event, and they made sure to take over their chores after being held hostage up at Scarabia in Book 4. Naturally, I wanted to reflect that in Erin's relationships with the ghosts.

I like to think that they look after the living residents. For one, Erin and Grim are still children and don't really have any parental figures to look after them. For second, they kind of scared off the previous residents and maybe don't want to do that with their current roommates.

So, fun fact, the middle hair style was the one that I wanted to use for Erin. Then, I realized that Cater exists scrapped it. It was just too similar to his. The braided one is probably my favorite, but I wasn't really confident in my ability to draw braids at the time and took it out lol

And I hated the first one lol bowl head lookin-

I was very committed to the length of her hair, the texture, and the use of a hair pin.