#lmao forgot to tag this

[kakashi-from-accounting]

Drawing konan again 🗞️💜

[highwayphantoms]

happy friday jay!! how about some hawke + anyone you like and ❛ i like being alone but i’d rather be alone with you. ❜?

I had a hell of a time finding this ask even though you sent it only a couple months ago 😂 thought tumblr ate it for a bit there.

here is some Handers, shocking absolutely no one, for @dadrunkwriting​

Warnings: none applicable today

Words: 1423

-

The Amell estate was too empty. Sure, she wasn’t alone—but that was exactly the problem, wasn’t it? A side effect, she supposed, of growing up in a much smaller house with more people. As much as she’d adored her parents, as much as she’d relished teasing the twins, she had always needed time alone. People were… exhausting.

It wasn’t their fault, really. Of course Bodahn fell over himself to be helpful; she’d sort of saved Sandal’s life, and that was not a debt easily repaid. Of course Orana was so attentive, having come from a household where anything else would have been punished harshly. Still, it was suffocating.

What she wouldn’t give to be back in Lothering, to be able to get out of the house and walk a mile or so to the river and just leave the world behind.

Kirkwall wasn’t the same. If anything, it was far worse. She couldn’t take three steps outside the manor without feeling a templar’s eyes on her. Not that they would do anything in public view. They knew better than that, or at least she hoped so.

Darktown was hardly appealing, either; even on a good day the sewers smelled like rot, and if anything it was more crowded than the Hightown markets on a busy afternoon. Still, she could get to Darktown without being seen by templars, and there was at least one person there who didn’t expect anything from her.

Unfortunately these days, a person who didn’t want something from her was a rare find. At least most of them would take no for an answer.

Templars, on the other hand. Templars didn’t like the word no. Their Knight-Commander especially didn’t care for it. Serafina grimaced at the thought even as she traded the fine fabrics she wore for something that would attract somewhat less attention in Darktown. Two weeks since their last meeting, and her ribs still hurt if she breathed too deep.

Varric’s words drifted through her mind. You need to tell Anders sooner or later. Preferably before they kill you.

No, this was one secret she was willing to die to keep. I’m trying to protect him, you know.

He’ll find out eventually.

Are you planning to tell him?

Aloud, she said, “Bear, are you coming?”

The dog lifted his great head where he was sprawled across the foot of her bed and watched her for a moment. Then, in dramatic fashion, he exhaled and slid off the side of the bed, leaving behind a healthy dose of brown and black hairs. Before joining her at her side, however, Bear paused where her staff was leaned against the wall and gave it a pointed look.

Serafina rolled her eyes. “I’m just going down to the clinic. I’ll be fine,” she countered.

Bear sat back on his haunches and met her eyes without blinking.

“I’ll be fine,” she repeated, and just to prove it she swept out to the landing beyond her door. The dog wasn’t wrong; her bad knee had only gotten more unreliable with time, but what good was a staff going to do on staircases? Absolutely none. By the time she’d taken the first few steps down the stairs to the main level, Bear followed her, his claws clicking against the wood. “You need a trim, my friend,” she said absently. A low priority, given… everything, but the last thing she needed was a dog as large as she was getting a claw stuck on something. Just the mess he would make—

She shook her head to herself and continued towards the cellars.

When she finally emerged from her cellars, it was a short jaunt to the clinic. Oddly enough, the lantern was dark. Lately, the lantern had never been dark. Without the mage underground to occupy his time, Anders had thrown every bit of himself into the clinic. It was often a struggle just to get him to rest, much less to get him back into the manor. All the more reason not to tell him the cost she paid every month to keep him safe.

Bear padded along beside her, his bulk enough of an incentive to keep the beggars out of her space, though most of them knew better than to crowd her by now. As she usually did, she pulled a few coins from the coinpurse at her waist and tossed one to each person she passed. Not enough to fix their circumstances, she knew, but a few silver would get each of them a warm meal at the very least. When she reached the clinic door, she knocked twice.

No answer. Not even the faint rustle of movement within.

Well, if she wanted to be alone, apparently that was what she was going to get. Serafina placed her palm against the door, checking if it had been warded in Anders’ absence, but found nothing. Strange, but not entirely unheard of. Perhaps he’d been called away to tend to someone who couldn’t make the trip here. It wouldn’t be the first time.

The clinic doors didn’t have locks or keys. Instead, they were typically warded if Anders was away, or barred if he was inside and didn’t want anyone coming in. Not a precaution against thieves—it wasn’t as if Anders really had anything worth stealing—but rather against templars. Hopefully a precaution that was no longer necessary, but suggesting that he could relax his defenses would only invite questions that she did not want to answer.

She met no resistance when she turned the knob and pushed the door open. The clinic was dark, just the barest hints of daylight creeping inside, but she illuminated the space with a wave of her hand, lighting each of the many candles scattered around. Still dim, but enough light to see by.

The clinic wasn’t silent, due to the neverending cacophony that was Darktown, but the noises from beyond the doors were muffled enough as she tossed a couple of logs into the makeshift hearth and lit them with a spark of magic. She knew how to light a fire normally—something her father had insisted she and her siblings learn—but why bother when a few licks of flame were so much easier?

Then, satisfied that she wasn’t going to freeze, she dragged a chair towards the hearth and sank into it. Bear settled at her feet, but didn’t relax; she could see the tension coiled in his legs. “Expecting trouble?” she murmured, nudging the dog with her foot.

He answered with a low grumble. Wary, but no active threat, then.

“Fair enough,” Serafina said, resting her elbows on her knees before she settled her head in her hands, gazing at the growing fire in the hearth. The flicker of the flames was as soothing as it always had been, unpredictable but familiar.

She hadn’t been there long—perhaps half an hour—when Bear rose to his feet. A moment later, the sound of one of the doors opening. A pause, then the door clicked shut. “Hello, Bear,” Anders said quietly, sounding impossibly tired.

Nothing new there, unfortunately. His footsteps as he crossed the room were quiet, but not silent; she sat up and turned as he came close. “Did you need something, Hawke?” he asked, standing just barely beyond her reach. Bear trailed after him, tail wagging gently.

“No,” she said. “I just wanted some time alone.”

Anders nodded, his eyes drifting from her to the fire in the hearth. “I’ll leave you be, then. I needed some things from the market, anyway.”

She smiled wryly at him. “I like being alone, but I’d rather be alone with you,” she said, stiffly getting to her feet. Her bad knee protested, but didn’t collapse out from under her. It took barely a step to close the distance between them, and she looped her arms around his neck to keep him there. “Besides, you look exhausted.”

Forced to meet her eyes again, he granted her a sheepish smile. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted. He lightly kissed her on the forehead, then asked, “And you’re not going to leave, are you?”

“Not unless it’s to drag you back to the estate,” she said mildly.

“Fair enough.” Anders gently removed her arms, then ran a hand through already-disheveled hair. “Hawke, I—” He sighed. “I don’t know. It’s been a long day.”

“Bed,” she said, gesturing towards the back room. “I’ll make sure Bear doesn’t try to join us.”

A small laugh escaped him. “I appreciate that.”

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[4natri]

[ra3kiv]

few recent commissions i made!!

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[eggnoodles0up]

@jonmartinweek day 1,,,, the week after,,, ahahaa

Day 1: First Kiss // Season 1

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

A lot of you underestimate how prevalent British bias is not only in F1 but across sports generally, and even in other industries.

Max saying he has the wrong passport in the paddock is an accurate statement. Do you think he, Seb, or Michael would've been half as vilified by the British media if they had a British passport instead? Would Fernando? Do you think Yuki would get half as much shit about his radio "conduct" if he was British? Because it's the British commentators who consistently have issues with it, and say shit like it's "unbecoming" for a driver to speak that way, ignoring that 1 it's not his first language and 2 IT WAS ENGLISH PEOPLE HE LEARNT THAT LANGUAGE FROM. Sometimes people misspeak, but Yuki has always taken accountability and apologised if he has and if he caused harm. Martin Brundle did not get nearly as much backlash from the media when he misspoke and called an Asian driver a slur while commentating. He also never apologised for it.

Alex, one of the four Brits on the grid but who drives under the Thai flag, has said that the commentators only call him British born when he does well. He was completely excluded from the Silverstone publicity about the home crowd heroes, whereas George, Lewis & Lando were heralded, not only on race weekend, but for weeks leading up to it.

Alex's statement also reminded me of this Richard Harris quote, "When I'm in trouble, I'm an Irishman. When I turn in a good performance, I'm an Englishman." Genuinely, if I took a shot every time a British organisation/person claimed a talented Irish person was actually a Brit, I'd have died from alcohol poisoning years ago.

Hell, I see George wearing the poppy pin this weekend in the lead up to remembrance Sunday. Do you know the amount of shit James McClean gets every year because he refuses to wear one? And he has very valid reasons for choosing not to wear it, yet he's torn to shreds every year by not only random people on the Internet or on the streets but by commentators and the media too.

Because of how this sport became mainstream and because no one challenged Bernie Eccleston's monopoly on broadcasting rights back in the day (people were given the opportunity to buy a share of the broadcasting rights; the idiots said no), this sport has prioritised the British voice/perspective for decades. I know the other broadcasts are just as biased for their home team/drivers, but the British one is the biggest one, as it's the main broadcast for better and more often for the worst. It's the broadcast with the most reach and influence. Their bias has to be challenged eventually if this sport ever hopes to properly expand and grow. The British bias is so difficult to miss once you start noticing it.

[juniorectobiologist]

ouppies PART ONE

PART TWO <- here

[cobaltfluff]

sasuga my ace detective mind-reading soulmate, I knew I could trust you

[lokh]

this man stands like a deer

[mirensiart]

fluffvember day 1: snow | “I’m stealing your blanket”

I’m elegantly late by 4 days lol but have wars & wind sleeping + wind being a blanket hoarder

[crossedcomet]

A bit of a self portrait I guess. I want to make a low maintence “avatar” or artsona for myself. I like this look a lot, but it almost feels too cutesy. I think I’ll play around with the eye shape some, see if I can get it just right

[royalarchivist]

Slimecicle: Whoever said "yaoi is dead" dude, I think you need to put on your freakin'– your bi-focal lenses. Anything's possible.

💗💜💙

[toyfrogs]

me and who

[nightfall-cat]

Rainy night

Please do not repost!!

Reblogs ok tho