#This isn't my best work

[doritooooo]

you can't tell me that this didn't happen

[ofgrimhilde]

❝ 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇'𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓁 𝑜𝒻 𝓁𝒶𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃'𝓉 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓎. 𝒥𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓈𝓀 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝓎-𝑀𝒶𝓇𝑔𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓉 𝐵𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒮𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝒲𝒽𝒾𝓉𝑒 ! ❞

𝒫𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝐸𝓋𝒾𝑒 𝒢𝓇𝒾𝓂𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝑒-𝑀𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓈. Daughter of the Evil Queen, Regina Mills.

An Independent, AU & Canonical portrayal of Evie Grimhilde from Disney's Descendants. Written by Jaded. 30+. She/Her. Disney, Descendants, & OUAT. Multi-verse and oc friendly. Minors, dni! Please be 21+ to interact.

[maine-is-canadian]

And maybe,

Maybe the killing will stop.

Maybe the air will be filled with silence,

Maybe the world won't be soaked with blood.

And maybe,

Maybe they'll preserve your faces.

Maybe we'll keep them as a reminder

Of what a pointless thing hate is.

And maybe,

Maybe we'll learn from our mistakes

Maybe we'll put down our weapons,

Maybe we'll succumb to our fate.

But I know that from this point on,

Though the winds are sharp

And the human heart is so unbearably strong,

You will be held in perpetual peace.

[tristinian]

I made a little comic about pronouns. There's no real point to it, I just wanted to share my experience. Also, sorry for changing art styles in the middle.

[ex-shark-virtue-005]

The entirety of Tieria's character arc.

Top panel: S2 Tieria: "Aren't you tired of being perfect?" S1 Tieria: "Wh- What...?"

Bottom Panel: S2 Tieria: "Don't you just wanna go batshit?" S1 Tieria: "What...Happens to me...?"

[soliloquivm]

⸻ LEVY TRAN SHE + HER / have you ever heard of THE HEART OF EVERYTHING BY WITHIN TEMPTATION., well, it describes NOA TRINH to a tee! the THIRTY FIVE year old, and HOMEMAKER / HACKER was spotted browsing through the stalls at portobello road market last sunday, do you know them? would you say SHE is more materialistic or more OPTIMISTIC instead? anyway, they remind me multiple screens before your eyes , the smell of hair spray after leaving the salon , long manicured fingernails often in bright red .. maybe you’ll bump into them soon!

time in notting hill : 18 years birthplace : los angeles , ca , usa sexuality : bisexual relationship status : married ( open connection )

✯ noa trinh grew up in a military household , moving from country to country until her father got a job with the NSA when she was fourteen years old ✯ because she was so young while moving around the world , she speaks multiple languages ✯ even though her father was a loyal agent , he taught her everything he knew about cyber security , how people can get passed any firewall , and other hacking tricks that he could . his dream was for his daughter to follow in his footsteps , instead , noa retained the information and learned more in her downtime . ✯ when she was eighteen years old , she was caught hacking into the MI6 database , however , because of her father's influence , the record was entirely wiped off the table and they suggested that she get a job with the government , however , noa declined . ✯ university was supposed to be a new start for her , and she moved to london to study art history , however , it was there that she met the man that she didn't know would become the love of her life , it was only a year into dating that they got married , and merely a few months after that they found out they were pregnant . ✯ all in the meanwhile , noa was still a hacker , using the money moved from rich bank accounts to fund not only her college education , but personal expenses as well . she told her husband that she was nothing more than a gamer , which is why she needed the expensive computer , etc . ✯ it wasn't until she got pregnant with her second child , that the couple decided she would stay at home , while her husband provided . this wasn't exactly ideal for her mental health , but it made life easier for her as her hobby only grew stronger . living in a tight knit gated community , she became a member of the PTA , and played the perfect housewife . nobody would have any idea what she does on the side .

[shanie-the-toyaddict]

Come and see what I've got cooking!!! @mrwrestlingkevinsteen - Hope this is in the general direction of what you were looking for!

Steenerico Disney World Fanfiction under cut.

Just getting into the park had been a challenge. 

First, Kevin had ended up paying for the tickets anyway. As it turned out, the few pesos that Generico had to his name wouldn’t pay for a bag of popcorn on Main Street let alone the park tickets. But by that point, they’d already spent thirty minutes in a line to buy them and the utterly crushed look on Generico’s face when presented with the possibility of not getting in had opened Kevin’s wallet far faster than he’d ever willingly admit. 

He’d certainly never tell anyone that he bought park hopper passes so that they could also visit Epcot. To be fair, though, those were for Kevin as well. He wasn’t about to miss Animal Kingdom for the world. 

Maybe that was why he sprung for three days’ worth of tickets. There was just too much to see at the parks for one day, especially with him having to lug an overeager masked luchador around the whole time. 

And therein lay the other problem. 

The mask. 

Kevin would never dream of making his partner remove it. People could call him a shitty friend all they liked and, honestly, Kevin knew they probably had a point. But he wasn’t that much of an asshole. 

So when the people at the front gate told him that Generico couldn’t enter with it on... 

There had been shouting. And tears. And more shouting. 

Most of the shouting was done by him, at miserable, plastic-grinned jackasses who couldn’t comprehend what the hell they were asking and whose necks he really wanted to wring in the damn turnstile. 

In the end, he’d managed to convince them. Eventually calming down long enough to find his inside voice and, through a sheer act of God, keeping himself from using the foulest language he had at his disposal, Kevin explained to them that the mask was for religious and cultural reasons and that he could never remove it, not even to enter the Happiest Place on Earth. 

Also, the phrase “Special Needs” might have left his lips, something that may or may not have been brought on by the fact that Kevin was doing everything in his power to keep Generico from having a meltdown at the front gates. 

Whatever it was that did the trick, he was just glad it did because they were permitted entry into Magic Kingdom, with a note given to Kevin to take to Guest Relations for an exemption on Generico’s mask. 

They no sooner got into the transportation center and to the top of the ramp for the Monorail when he was grateful he hadn’t broken skulls.  

The Monorail, all sleek and striped, brought a gleeful smile to Generico’s face that made Kevin shake his head. Motioning at the train, Generico was already overjoyed and they hadn’t even gotten into the park yet. It was another thing Kevin would never admit to – how much seeing Generico smile made him happy. The idiot was a walking, too pale, too skinny stack of unnecessary emotions on his best days but when he was at his happiest, Kevin couldn’t help but be warmed by Generico’s radiance, that stupid too-broad smile of his fluttering Kevin’s heart whenever he got to see it. 

And Kevin could already tell he was going to see it a lot before they left Orlando. 

Still, the last thing he needed was for Generico to lose control on the fucking Monorail. 

“Calm down buddy,” Kevin said as they got into the car, “We haven’t even hit Main Street yet. This is just the transportation.” 

Generico didn’t stop grinning. 

“I mean it!” Kevin warned him, “Save some excitement for later. I’m not carrying you back to the hotel at noon because you burn yourself out halfway to It’s A Small World” 

The luchador nodded vigorously. “Sí. Calm. Sí.” 

He proceeded to be only slightly calmer in the moment that followed but, frankly, Kevin was ready to take whatever he could get. 

At least he kept quiet on the trip around the bay. They’d no sooner started moving then Generico was turned around, his eyes on the scenery. Kevin had to admit, the ride was nice enough, and the trip through the Contemporary was always fun. He’d always found it neat how they built the hotel around the Monorail and while he’d been to Disney World before, pulling straight into the center of the building on a TRAIN was still pretty cool. 

Of course, once they got into the park itself, all bets were off. 

“KEVIN!” Generico shouted, rushing up to a statue of Walt and Mickey. “Picture!” 

He had to laugh. 

“Sure,” he said, pulling out his camera. 

He no sooner had the camera in his hand when a third problem struck him. 

The pictures.  They were there by themselves. Naturally nobody had wanted to come with them... which meant that any photos they took wouldn’t be together. 

“Shit,” he whispered softly. Speaking up, he told Generico sadly, “Sorry, pal, I can’t get shots of us both. It’s just gonna have to be you.” 

“Kevin...” Generico lamented, his lip already halfway to quivering. 

It was going to be one of those trips.  

“Look, Generico, I don’t know how you want me to...” 

“I can help you with that!” a voice to his side chirped up. 

It was another one of the workers. “Cast Members” they called them. This one had a slightly more genuine smile on her face, a nametag reading “Stacie”, and was carrying an oversized camera. 

“I can get your picture,” she told Kevin, the smile fading. 

“Ok, and how much would that cost?” 

“If you buy a photo package, you can get as many photos as you want together.” 

It didn’t answer the question. 

It didn’t answer the question but, as Kevin glanced at his partner and his utterly raptured face as he took in everything around him, he realized that saying no to Generico for the entirety of the trip was going to be next to impossible. 

He let out a sigh and wrinkled his face. “Right. Where do I sign up?” 

“How many days are you staying with us?” 

“Three.” 

“Are you staying on property?” 

“No.” 

“Guest relations will get you everything you need. And then you can come right back and I’ll take a photo of you and your friend.” 

Kevin stole another glance towards Generico... except he was missing. 

Shit. 

That time he thought it silently. 

“I’ll be back,” he told the woman and, scanning the area, went off to find his partner. 

It really was going to be one of those trips. 

…........................................   

When he found Generico, it was in the Main Street USA Firehouse, getting angry with a pressed penny machine. 

“Hey! Knock it off! It doesn’t take pesos!” Kevin shouted, grabbing Generico’s wrists and stopping his attempts to shake the machine. “Quarters. You need quarters. And a penny. Here...” 

Kevin pulled the travel pack off his back and, digging out two quarters and an old penny, dropped them in the slot. 

“Pick one,” he told his friend. It took the luchador a moment but he settled on one of a dalmatian in a fireman’s hat. “Ok, now, watch,” Kevin told him and, in one quick motion, shoved the slot into the machine. 

Generico watched eagerly as the gears of the machine turned and, before the penny had even hit the slot, his fingers were in it, waiting. And, no sooner did he have the penny in his fingers, then the penny was on the ground, dropped. 

“Caliente!” Generico shouted before bending over to pick up the offending coin. Once he had it again, he held it between his fingers, turning it in the light. 

It... wasn’t pretty.   The penny was old; the various marks and flaws had transferred onto the design, and as Kevin saw the disappointment in Generico’s eyes, he let out a long sigh. 

“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s get you another one.” 

Digging into his pack again, he managed to find another pair of quarters and a bright, shining penny this time. Putting them into the slot, the same as last time, he pushed the tray in. This time, Generico hit the button for a design of Mickey as a fireman and, when Generico tried a second time to shove his hand up the slot, Kevin grabbed it. 

“Wait,” he commanded. 

It only took a few moments but when the penny came out, it was much nicer, the copper shining in the sunlight. 

“Ooooh,” Generico marveled. 

“Great. Now, we’re going to Guest Relations.” 

Generico’s head tilted to the side. 

“The mask! And your photos, did you already forget?” 

Dark eyes widened in understanding behind the mask and his head nodded. 

“God, you have a ten second memory,” complained Kevin. “Let’s go. I’m not getting kicked out of here before we ride Space Mountain.” 

A sharp, sudden look of confusion sprung from behind Generico’s mask, followed by him frantically waving his hands ‘No’. 

“What? No, screw you, we’re riding Space Mountain.” 

Generico’s hands continued waving before they traveled south, covering himself. 

“Damn it,” Kevin swore, “What are you...” Suddenly, realization took hold and Kevin rolled his eyes so hard he almost sprained them. “Not that Space Mountain, dumbass! The one in Tomorrowland!” 

He no sooner got the statement out then he saw a mother nearby put her hands over her small child’s ears, leading her away. 

Kevin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He was going to have to be more careful about that. 

“Look, let’s just get to Guest Relations before we get ejected, ok? I paid far too much money to get us in here, so behave and I’ll let you ride the teacups on your own.” 

Generico broke out into a toothy grin of agreement and, moving behind the luchador, Kevin pushed him in the direction they needed to travel. 

“Go,” he demanded, “You’re leading. I’m not letting you out of my sight again.” 

…........................................ 

  As it turned out, Generico did behave at Guest Relations and Kevin was able to get the exemption for Generico and his photo pass. He slipped both into his travel pack and, after stopping to get a photo in front of the statue, took Generico to Fantasyland to ride the teacups. 

Of course, Generico being Generico, he diverted three times along the way. Once to try and get ice cream (Kevin refused), once for popcorn (Kevin told him maybe later), and once for a Mickey Mouse balloon (Kevin promised Generico he could have one on their way out). 

By the time they actually got through the castle and into Fantasyland, they had already been there an hour and a half, and Kevin’s knee was beginning to bug him. 

“Right,” he told his partner, putting him in the queue, “You can ride, and I’ll be over there on the bench.” Kevin motioned towards a bench nearby. 

“Sí,” Came the quick reply before the line started to move and Generico’s attention was instantly elsewhere. 

“And don’t spin too hard!” Kevin warned. 

If Generico heard, he didn’t answer. 

…........................................ 

  Of course Generico had spun as fast as the ride allowed him. 

“What did I tell you,” Kevin lectured, sitting on the bench beside a woozy Generico. Generico had his head down, resting in his hands and was making quiet moaning noises. 

“Seriously, do you ever listen to me?” he continued. “Ever? I swear to God...” 

Kevin’s anger was cut short by a wibbly look from his partner.  

Deep, cleansing breaths, Steen, Kevin thought silently. 

Taking a moment for one of those breaths, Kevin patted Generico gently on the shoulder. 

“Wait here,” he said sharply, “I mean it.” 

Quickly, Kevin got up and, heading over to a nearby quick service counter, got a cup of water from the attendant. 

Finally, something I don’t have to pay for, he thought, more than a little bitterly. 

He hadn’t intended on spending a ton of money on the trip. Honestly, he hadn’t intended on even paying for the tickets. He’d been saving money for a year at that point for some new electronics and had accumulated more than enough before they got to Orlando. He’d wanted an iPhone since they were released and, between that and the new laptop he’d been eyeing, he was all ready to do some tech shopping as an early birthday present to himself. 

That was the day before. 

But there, in the middle of the Magic Friggin Kingdom, he’d already dumped money for six park tickets, a photo pass, and two pressed pennies. It was far more than he’d intended or wanted but, as he brought the cup of water back to his friend and saw the relief in his eyes, Kevin knew the trip was only getting started. 

He sat down again beside Generico and handed him the water. 

“Are you gonna be sick?” 

Generico gently shook his head. 

“Good. Did you learn your lesson?” he asked. 

Generico nodded. “Sí” 

“Even better. Have some water.” 

The luchador did so, a bit too eagerly. 

“Slowly!” Kevin warned him.  

Generico didn’t slow down much.  Another one of those deep, cleansing breaths. 

Mercifully, as Generico drank the water, he seemed to be doing better. His back straightened and he wasn’t looking quite so pale around the eyes. 

Kevin sighed and placed his hand on his partner’s back, gently rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. It bothered him how much it bothered him. He cared about Generico, sure, but one of the earliest things Kevin Steen had learned in his life was that you took care of yourself first and that those that fell behind, got left behind. But Kevin also knew that, if it wasn’t for one infuriating, generic luchador, he’d probably have gotten lost in his own darkness ages ago. 

So, caring for Generico was going to come first. 

Generico was still sipping on his water as Kevin rubbed his back. 

“You know I’m your friend, right?” 

Generico took another drink of water. “Sí. Kevin amigo. Amigo numero uno.” 

“And you know I don’t want to see you sick?” 

“Te importa mucho.” 

“Yeah, I do care. And I don’t want you to be miserable on your vacation, so if you – " 

Generico cut him off. “Ours!” 

Kevin stopped. “What?” 

“Ours!” he repeated sharply before, using his free hand, he motioned to Kevin and back at himself. “Kevin y Generico, Disney World! Amigos!” 

Oh. 

Kevin smiled. “Right, buddy. Our vacation. Together. So let’s try to make it a good one, maybe? No more running off, and no more dumb shi---” Kevin stopped himself, eyeing the myriad of children around them. “No more dumb stuff,” he finished. “We stay together and we’ll have fun. Comprendo?” 

Generico made several gruff hums of affirmation as he nodded vigorously.  

“Good, now, finish your water and we’ll go ride ‘It’s A Small World’.” 

In what was the latest of such, Generico broke out into a wide grin and, quickly finishing his cup of water, got up and tossed it in a nearby trash can. The spring in his step as he did so, however, was impossible to ignore and, as he stepped back in front of Kevin, he held out his hand.  

Kevin paused for a moment to look up at his friend. His eyes were dark but shining and the joy in them was unmistakable. Beyond that, the fondness there, beyond their norm, both grateful and kind, and Kevin could hear the words hidden in their gaze. 

Thank you, Kevin, they said. Thank you for being such a good friend. 

At least, that’s what Kevin hoped that particular look meant. 

Kevin smiled in return and, taking Generico’s hand, got to his feet. 

“Come on,” he said warmly, putting his arm around the luchador, “there’s a boat ride waiting for you.” 

[bereft-of-frogs]

There’s that post that’s like ‘everyone should get into a tiny niche fandom at least once’ fully agree, that was really fun -- but I would like to add that everyone should get into a fandom where their opinions run counter to major fanon because it really teaches you about sticking to your guns and trusting your interpretation of the text without having to rely on peer validation

because WHAT are people talking about sometimes

[paranoid-spotlight-everest]

The Cadenator Pride Month Collection is now on AO3! If you enjoy it, I'm honored, and please stay tuned for more updates! I am taking requests! As always, commenters get cookies and my eternal love!

[lazylittledragon]

i refuse to believe that boycotting is hard. my favourite thing in the world is ordering maccies after a late night at work/a concert/getting drunk. yes i do miss it sometimes. but the other night i ordered from a small place near my house instead and it was the most orgasmic burger i've ever had in my life. i very rarely say this but fucking suck it up people are DEAD

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Overindulgent father Astarion who tells his children they’re allergic to any kind of jewellery that isn’t made of the highest grade Dwarven crafted gold. 

It’s not even because Astarion might have a certain aversion to silver, no, he just raises his children to have standards, thank you very much. 

And it doesn’t end with shiny things, oh no… 

The Ancunín brood is known to be dressed in perfectly woven cotton, silk and soft leather clothes, no matter the occasion.

They’re seen playing with expensive toys, reading artfully illustrated books that certainly belong behind thick glass, not in children’s sticky hands. 

There’s even talk that one of the children is not as naturally inclined to music as his parents claim him to be, surely his lyre must be enchanted—the instrument certainly looks extravagant enough! 

And then there’s always this air of effortless haughtiness surrounding the Ancunín children whenever their nannies and servants are parading them through town as if they were perfect little dolls; objects to show off the wealth their parents acquired in quite the mysterious ways. 

So, it’s no secret that Astarion and Tav are pampering their children—some might say they’re even spoiling them rotten. 

And maybe they are, especially Astarion.

But he doesn’t see why he should raise them any other way, nor does he want to.  

When it comes to his children, Astarion has his own standards, and as long as Tav agrees with him nothing really matters. 

Because, these people, they don’t know anything about the Ancuníns. 

They don’t know that it’s not unusual for Astarion to wash out dirt and mud and strawberry stains from comically small finery, leaving behind only the memories of a day spent playing in the garden, chasing after ducks, picking flowers, lazing in the sun…

That any holes and tears the children’s clothes might suffer are quickly mended, making them look as good as new in no time. 

Nor do they know that Astarion doesn’t mind fashioning a brand new dress to match that of a favourite doll, either. Or to embroider a pretty vest with the likeness of that stray cat the children seem to adore, although their father would rather they don’t touch the mangy animal. 

No, those people know nothing at all...

“Not tired!” Astarion’s youngest cries; the vehement denial of her father’s earlier accusation is cut short by a telltale yawn.

The room still smells of fragrant lavender oil and peaches even when the bath water has already grown tepid, just one or two degrees above what Astarion would consider too cold to be enjoyable. 

Amused, he raises an eyebrow at the protesting toddler before he lifts her out of the copper bathtub with little effort. 

By now, he knows every step of this game.

“Tut-tut, my dear child, what did mama and I say?” Astarion kneels, quickly wrapping a soft towel around the child to keep her warm. “We only tell lies outside of this house.”

Unfazed by her father’s gentle scolding, the girl crosses her arms that haven’t yet lost their puppy fat across her chest, reminding Astarion a little too much of a very displeased Tav. 

Suppressing a sigh, he leans back to consider the pouting child, wondering what could possibly be upsetting her this time—the list is growing longer by the day, after all. 

“What’s the matter, dear?” Astarion asks gently, hoping it’s something easily fixable as it’s growing rather late. 

“Want apple!”

Decades ago, Astarion might’ve rolled his eyes—he knows exactly which stupid apple the child wants, it’s been haunting him all day—but once he started to treat his children’s problems as if they were his own, his life has grown somewhat easier. 

“Why, let’s get an apple on our way to bed, then. Would that be alright, Your Highness?” 

The girl promptly nods her head, allowing Astarion to pat her hair dry before dressing her in a clean night dress. 

She rests her cheek against her father’s shoulder as he carries her first to the kitchen to grab a fragrant apple and a knife, then to her bedroom where they settle on the cosy window seat, just like they do every night.

Soft moonlight is pouring through the windows; the child giggles at the way the knife’s blade is catching the silver light as Astarion peels and cuts the apple into even pieces.

“Here you go,” he finally says, giving the slice of apple one last examining look before surrendering it to the impatient little hands reaching for it. “A sweet treat for my little sweet. Doesn’t it taste so much better when we don’t eat it off the floor, darling?” And when it’s not crawling with ants…

The appeased toddler nibbles at the juicy fruit as Astarion carefully combs through her still-damp curls. 

Her hair’s getting long, he notices, knowing that taking care of it will become more time-consuming each day. 

Once, Astarion would’ve thought this task tedious, brushing out hair that’s not his own, oiling and braiding it for no other reason than knowing his children enjoy him doing it. 

But that’s why he loves doing it in the first place, he supposes.

Astarion can tell by his toddler’s heartbeat that sleep is about to claim her. 

The half-eaten slice of apple is still clutched in her little fist as he cradles the child to his chest, slowly rising from the window seat to put her to bed. 

He’s just about to lay the child down that the fruit drops to the floor, his daughter’s tiny hand clutching at his shirt instead.

“Thank you, papa,” she mumbles, more asleep than awake.

Astarion pauses.

He breathes in the clean, yet unique scent of the little girl that is forever engraved in his brain, the same way he knows under which exact constellation she was born. When she took her first steps, what her first word was. Soon, he will have to memorise her favourite colour, and what she likes to eat when dirty apples won’t be that appealing anymore. 

By now, Astarion knows this game by heart, knows that with every year that passes, he has something new to learn about his children.

And sometimes he wonders what it’s like to grow up with clean bed sheets and full bellies. Sleep filled with naught but warmth and happy memories. Ever open doors and tears that are dried by tender kisses. Living in a house where mistakes and anger are welcomed, safe. 

He wonders what it’s like for his children to know that their father’s love comes without conditions. Not now and not ever. 

Sitting down on the bed, Astarion holds his youngest a little closer to his chest, unwilling to let go of her, yet. 

He’s often accused of spoiling his children when most people can only just grasp the very surface of his love for them, the bare minimum of what he feels for his one and only, precious family. 

These baseless accusations are as unimportant to Astarion as the people voicing them.

He’s raising his children to have standards, wants them to take their father’s love for granted, to accept nothing less but pure devotion.

It’s the only way Astarion knows how to love them, the only way that comes most naturally to him. 

Astarion looks down at his little girl, now fast asleep, a gentle smile tugging at her lips. 

After all these years—all these children—he’s still in awe watching them sleep in his arms as if no harm in the world could ever befall them.

And it won’t—not if Astarion can help it. 

“No, thank you, my heart,” he whispers, pressing a kiss against the crown of the toddler’s head. 

When it comes to his children, Astarion holds himself to the highest standard.

[firehose118]

outsider perspective for @bucktommypositivityweek

Even with everything else going on, Bobby notices that Buck is particularly restless in the weeks after the cruise disaster. He figures it’s nerves about Chimney and Maddie’s wedding or the bachelor party. He doesn’t pay much attention to it. 

Buck’s restlessness hits an all-time high around the time Eddie is out with a sprained ankle. Bobby attributes it to the absence of his partner and doesn’t think much of it. 

And then, only two weeks before the wedding—just when Buck should be getting even more stressed out—Buck gets very calm. Maybe more calm than Bobby has ever seen him. And he stays that way.

Something changes for him between one shift and the next, but he doesn’t talk about it; just walks around the firehouse with a small smile on his lips and a spring in his step. For the first time, Bobby thinks Buck looks at ease with himself.

Bobby waits patiently to find out why. 

He officiates the hospital wedding with tears in his eyes. He’s proud of Chimney, happy for Maddie, and he’s still sensitive from the fresh wave of appreciation for Athena and their life together he’s felt since they almost died on their honeymoon. 

When he sees Buck lead Tommy into the hospital room by the hand—his face covered in soot that’s clearly transferred from Tommy’s, smiling wide and goofy, bouncing his way towards his sister and the cake with a lightness Bobby hasn’t seen from him in a long time—Bobby instantly understands this is it. This is what finally allowed Buck to feel at ease. The tears are back in his eyes. 

“Did you know about this?” Athena asks Bobby quietly. 

They’re watching Tommy try to figure out how to greet Maddie without getting any soot on her beautiful dress. He ends up awkwardly kissing her hand, which makes her laugh in delight. Buck can barely contain his excitement at the two of them getting along. He looks like he should be wagging a tail. 

“No, I didn’t have a clue,” Bobby answers honestly. “But it explains a lot.” 

Bobby can’t say that he didn’t see this coming for Buck. They’ve been out on too many calls where Buck has tripped over himself in front of hot men for this to be a surprise. True, Bobby didn’t foresee Tommy being Buck’s first relationship with a man, but he’s glad he is. Tommy is a good guy. Bobby might not know him well, but he knows that much. For Buck to finally settle into this part of himself with Tommy by his side fills Bobby with joy for both of them. Tommy will treat Buck well, and will be treated well in return. 

Bobby watches as Tommy wets a paper napkin with condensation from his drink and tries to clean what is obviously the soot of his kisses off of Buck’s mouth. Bobby sees the soft, smitten way Tommy smiles at Buck—like it’s a privilege to do this; like Buck is something to be treasured. Bobby sees the way Buck smiles so hard at the simple intimacy that Tommy has trouble reaching inside his dimples. Bobby has never seen Buck smile quite like this. There’s nothing inappropriate about it, but Bobby almost feels like he shouldn’t be seeing it. It’s so nakedly tender that it feels like it should be private. 

Tommy finishes cleaning the soot off as best he can and gives Buck a gentle kiss. Buck laughs gleefully when Tommy grimaces and wipes where his lips just were again. They’re too far away for Bobby to hear, but he sees Buck say, I don’t care, and lean in for another quick kiss. The corners of Tommy’s lips turn up. He doesn’t try to wipe the soot off this time. 

It’s so early, but Bobby can already tell that this is the kind of love that Buck has been waiting for; the kind he deserves. There’s a maturity under the flirtation—a steadiness—that Bobby can feel from across the room. It’s early, but it isn’t casual. Buck doesn’t love by halves, and Tommy is already all in. He wouldn’t have shown up to a hospital wedding in ash-covered turnouts if Buck wasn’t special to him. 

The last Bobby knew, Tommy didn’t do relationships. That was a long time ago. When they worked together at the 118, Bobby could always tell that Tommy was holding parts of himself back. He’d talked about being intentionally single almost convincingly, but sometimes Bobby had seen a bit of panic under it. Sometimes a wistfulness; a longing he’d shove down with a careful dismissiveness. Bobby had taken notice, but he hadn’t locked into where it came from at the time. Maybe if Bobby had spent more time with Tommy before he transferred—if Bobby hadn’t been drowning in his own demons at the time—he would have understood this thing inside of Tommy a little better. But he understands it now: under the jaded matter-of-factness and from inside the closet, Tommy had been bursting at the seams to love and be loved. He just didn’t know how to let himself have it. 

Buck had the same need inside of him: he’d worn that love me love me love me desperation on his sleeve for years. Tommy is the first of Buck’s partners to meet him on this level, as far as Bobby has been able to tell. 

As Buck and Tommy make their way excitedly between groups holding hands, Bobby can see how that gnawing need has dissipated in both of them. They both look relaxed and happy, even after everything they’ve both been through in the last 24 hours. They have each other now. 

Bobby is proud of them both. 

Buck and Tommy are two of the first to leave. Tommy started with high energy—still running on the adrenaline of firefighting and the anxiety of trying to make it to the wedding on time—but he fades fast. After an hour, he’s half asleep on his feet, leaning hard into Buck’s side while they talk to Eddie and Chris, his hand tight on Buck’s hip to keep himself upright. Buck whispers something into his ear and he nods. Buck drops a soft kiss to his cheek. It’s almost shy, the way he does it; almost disbelieving, like he’s still coming to terms with the idea that he can do this now. Bobby can see the joy that bubbles up in Buck when Tommy nuzzles into it. He gets more soot on Buck’s face. 

Buck leads Tommy over to a chair in the corner and parks him there while he does his rounds of goodbyes. Smart, Bobby thinks. Goodbyes at their group gatherings take upwards of half an hour. Tommy is asleep within seconds of sitting down. 

Bobby watches as Buck gets lots of gentle teasing, lots of hugs, and even a firm handshake from his father. Buck blinks hard like he wasn’t expecting such a clear show of approval, small as it may seem. The Buckley parents aren’t ones for affection, even when they’re trying to be supportive. Buck takes his father’s hand like the olive branch Bobby knows it is. 

Bobby has no such reservations. Buck starts walking towards him and Athena looking more nervous than he did when he walked up to his parents, and Bobby pulls him into a solid hug before he can even say anything. Bobby doesn’t let him go for a long moment. 

“I’m so proud of you, kid,” he says, trying not to cry again. 

Buck has come such a long way from the lost, desperate person he was seven years ago. He’s not casting about in the dark looking for something, anything to tether himself to. He’s grown and matured on his own, and finally he found a partner who wants to meet him where he is. A partner who shows up for him. 

“Thank you, Bobby.” Buck clings a little and sounds on the verge of tears himself. 

Athena makes Buck promise to bring Tommy to the next cookout. Buck blushes and ducks his head as he agrees. Bobby remembers how happy Tommy was to have family dinners, back when Bobby first instituted them. He gets the sense that Tommy didn’t have too many of those growing up. He can’t wait to see Tommy’s face at a family cookout. Bobby might even let him have a turn on the grill. 

Buck wakes Tommy up with a gentle hand on his cheek. Tommy stirs, pressing into Buck’s hand before he’s even fully awake. Bobby watches as Tommy remembers where he is, as he looks up at Buck and gives him an eye-crinkling smile; somewhat refreshed from his nap and happy to have Buck near him again. He nods at whatever Buck says to him and lets Buck pull him to his feet. 

They throw a last goodbye to the general group as they leave the room hand-in-hand. Buck has never looked more settled in his own skin; more like himself. Neither has Tommy. They both look like they’ve found what they’ve been looking for their whole lives. 

Bobby’s not sure he believes in soulmates, but they make a pretty compelling argument. 

“I give it six months,” Athena says. 

“You don’t think they’ll last?” Bobby asks, surprised. “Haven’t you seen them tonight?” 

“Six months until they’re engaged,” Athena clarifies with a teasing smile. 

“Ah,” Bobby smiles. “I don’t know. Buck might not rush this one.” 

“It’s not a rush if you know it’s right,” Athena says. She gives Bobby a significant look. 

“I can’t argue with that.” Bobby leans down to kiss Athena. Every kiss still thrills him like it’s the first time. “Let’s just hope their honeymoon goes a little better than ours.” 

Athena hums. “We’ll keep them far away from any boats.” 

They watch Buck wrap his arm around Tommy’s waist while they walk down the hospital hallway. Tommy leans into him and presses a kiss to his temple. 

It’s so early. This could just be the honeymoon phase. It could just be the two of them finding something that feels good after so many relationships that felt wrong, for one reason or another. It could be explained away a million different ways. But Bobby has a feeling in his gut that this is it for both of them.

Bobby may not have foreseen Tommy being Buck's first relationship with a man, but he does foresee Tommy being Buck's last relationship. If Maddie had thrown her bouquet, Buck would have caught it without even trying. They’re next, Bobby knows. And it’s going to work out. 

They’re good for each other.

[bixels]

I think 90% of my gripes with how modern anime looks comes down to flat color design/palettes.

Non-cohesive, washed-out color palettes can destroy lineart quality. I see this all the time when comparing an anime's lineart/layout to its colored/post-processed final product and it's heartbreaking. Compare this pre-color vs. final frame from Dungeon Meshi's OP.

So much sharpness and detail and weight gets washed out and flattened by 'meh' color design. I LOVE the flow and thickness and shadows in the fabrics on the left. The white against pastel really brings it out. Check out all the detail in their hair, the highlights in Rin's, the different hues to denote hair color, the blue tint in the clothes' shadows, and how all of that just gets... lost. It works, but it's not particularly good and does a disservice to the line-artist.

I'm using Dungeon Meshi as an example not because it's bad, I'm just especially disappointed because this is Studio Trigger we're talking about. The character animation is fantastic, but the color design is usually much more exciting. We're not seeing Trigger at their full potential, so I'm focusing on them.

Here's a very quick and messy color correct. Not meant to be taken seriously, just to provide comparison to see why colors can feel "washed out." Top is edit, bottom is original.

You can really see how desaturated and "white fluorescent lighting" the original color palettes are.

[Remember: the easiest way to make your colors more lively is to choose a warm or cool tint. From there, you can play around with bringing out complementary colors for a cohesive palette (I warmed Marcille's skintone and hair but made sure to bring out her deep blue clothes). Avoid using too many blend mode layers; hand-picking colors will really help you build your innate color sense and find a color style. Try using saturated colors in unexpected places! If you're coloring a night scene, try using deep blues or greens or magentas. You see these deep colors used all the time in older anime because they couldn't rely on a lightness scale to make colors darker, they had to use darker paints with specific hues. Don't overthink it, simpler is better!]

[duskybunn]

Reach out to your friends Kal, damn.

[fiepige]

Compilation of EVERY single time they changed Hobie's filter in the digital version:

Left: Theatrical release Right: Digital release

You might have to click on some of them to get a better look at Hobie, sadly I don't have a video editor that allows me to make better edits than these :')

[wearethecharmedones]

Prue Halliwell Appreciation Week - Day 2 Favorite Spell