I love these guys so much. forget NRC, I want to attend their terrible disaster school for disaster children that might actually be plastered on top of the smoking remains of an actively sinking ship. I may or may not actually learn anything, but I will have the time of my life.
God Gale is endgame for Mayhew, and Mayhew couldn't be more pleased 😌
their mutual wizard disease brought them to some pretty low lows, but hey, ignore the tragedy, they're gods now! first order of business is a little worshiping at the altar 😏
Here's the sketch, which I also like:
Got majorly inspired by these lovely photos, one of which I used as a pose reference.
"I have some tales to tell. Alas, I may not be here when Durin returns. I made promises, you see. To meet Aragorn in Minas Tirith. To see Merry and Pippin again. To make one final trip with Legolas."
-- Gimli, Return to Moria
Absolutely the best part of Roy being Phoebe's football coach was him acting like he normally does and treating it 100% seriously and all of them listening to him looking like this
what makes Cinder such a compelling 2012 not-like-other-girls protagonist is that she is surrounded by Other Girls, and she loves them. Iko and Peony are the most stereotypical teenage girls obsessed with pretty clothes and boys and pop culture and she would die for either of them in a heartbeat. Iko rolls in with makeup smeared all over her plastic face and Cinder is like "ayy girl slay!". she knows that she is JUST like other girls in all the ways that matter.
happy new year Ego!!! Just wanted to let you know that I absolutely adore your twst fanart and the tags are just an absolute pleasure to read! You are my greatest inspiration for my personal twst art and I just wanted to thank you for your wonderful masterpieces <333 if possible, may I ask what are some of your headcanons for the diasomnia family? If not for diasomnia then any other characters are fine as well!
thank you, and happy new year! 💚💜💚 that is amazing to hear; it's always a little bewildering but super flattering that other people like my silly little doodles so much!
I don't think I really have any really solid headcanons and also canon keeps validating me left and right (FLUFFY DOMESTIC DIAFAM IS REAL). mostly just kind of...impressions and general thoughts, if that makes sense! lately though I've been kind of obsessed with thinking about Lilia's hair, and specifically when/why he ended up cutting it. (l-look, we're bouncing around the timeline and I gotta make decisions about these things when I draw, it's relevant) (I mean I would probably be weirdly fixated on this anyway, but.)
I think I've settled on the idea that he kept it long until he went to NRC, partly because 1) I like drawing The Ponytail, and 2) I think he thought of NRC as a chance to reinvent himself a bit! he gets to go and be a wacky carefree teenager for a few years and have fun! (officially he's there to keep an eye on Son #1, but how much trouble could he get into, really.) so he gave himself a Cool Teen Haircut to go with his fresh new Cool Teen Persona!
also maybe he had some reflection on his hair's troubled past with three kids...
...and had to weigh his vanity versus the fact that he was going off to be around hundreds of kids on a daily basis, and. the choice suddenly seemed obvious.
I've never felt this way before. She's always on my mind. I wonder why her clothes always have holes in them. I'm worried that she'll go around kicking things. I'm worried that she'll get scolded again. I think of her when I eat tasty food. I want to bring her some. I'm so distracted because of her. She'll be the death of me.
Tubbo: No don't- at least disable mines, 'cuz Chayanne nearly died the other day. He nearly- Chayanne nearly died the other day though, so like...
Foolish: Uhmm....
Tubbo: This is the most ethical one.
Fit: Tubbo, if you wanna disable mines, you are disrespecting the entire Hispanic community, don't you even fcking think of doing that, don't you even fcking think of doing that! How dare you disrespect the Hispanic community by disabling mines, what's wrong with you?!
Pac: [Losing it, clapping and dying of laughter]
Foolish: Yeah, I can't- I can't do that to Vegetta, that's one of his favorite things.
Thinking about Wymack picking up Neil from the airport at new years. It takes him a while to spot Neil because of course his hair is back to it's natural colour but Wymack would notice those hunched over shoulders anywhere, shoulders that look like they're carrying a weight so heavy Wymack would never know the pressure of it. And that's how he knows it's his Neil. His hands always fisted around the strap of that goddamn duffle bag.
Then Neil is sitting in Wymack's car, and he can sense the tension in Neil's body, the careful way he holds himself hiding how much pain he's in, how broken he is in that moment. Neil falls asleep within minutes, so Wymack spends the rest of the journey driving as careful as he possibly can so as not to jostle Neil in the car as he sleeps. He turns the heating up too keeping Neil warm and comfortable. He tries not to think about all the questions that make his grip tighten on the steering wheel.
Next is the mission of getting Neil up to his apartment. He doesn't want to wake him, though it doesn't seem like it would be possible right now anyway. Neil seems completely gone. If it wasn't for the steady rise and fall of his chest he could be dead. So Wymack grabs Neil's bag, throws it over himself before gently reaching into the car to carry Neil out. He's heavier than Wymack would have expected, considering how small he seemed when he first spotted him hunched over on the curb outside the airport.
The ride up on the elevator seems longer than usual, and at some point Wymack feels the weight of Neil's head falling back so he gently shifts him so his head lands on Wymack's shoulder instead. He sighs deeply and curses under his breath, at what he doesn't know. For a second he's back in the hallway of his apartment watching Neil flinch from him for the first time, and now he's asleep broken and bruised in his arms. There's something to be said about the irony in that he's sure.
Finally he's in his apartment, gently laying Neil down onto his sofa. He pries his shoes off and then hesitates. His hands moving automatically to unzip Neil's coat to make him more comfortable, but he doesn't want to touch him without his consent. So, he leaves the jacket. He shoves a pillow under his head though, his hand resting atop Neil's now burnt orange curls a second longer than was necessary.
He drags his desk chair into the room, careful not to make too much noise. He needs to be by his side, needs to be there when Neil wakes up so he doesn't panic. He pours himself a drink and watches Neil sleep, his eyes fixed on his chest again, focused on that steady rise and fall. Wymack drinks. Neil sleeps. Those million questions are running through his head again, but the most burning and pressing of them all is how could I let this happen to one of my kids?