Bros Before Beaus

thrang:

“Shepard! Away from Crucible work temporarily, needed to come to the Citadel, decided to stop by!”

I would have loved to see Mordin in formals ; ^; and have him as our date to the party, and maybe spend some time with him. Oh well, I have my imagination u ^u

Was experimenting with shading and trying to practice lines *v*

jordangibson:

An idea I had at 3:30 in the morning. Ultimate Spider-Boy. Miles Morales + Conner Kent. 

vaahlkult:

Commission for Inutaru on dA!

thrang:

Angry Mordin *3* well…actually he just looks annoyed.

and put it together with angry Kirrahe, you get:

a lover’s quarrel

Warden Carver, looking all melancholy and hating his life.

cris-art:

Sketch Tommy/Speed, in my livestream ♥♥ #youngavengers

tzumi:

I still ship them with each other and everyone else. orz
Also FLUFF bc i need cute and calming things right now.

tzumi:

Goodbye pretty black armour. I’ll miss you.

I honestly thought i’d never finish this. But all the precious friends from the livestream kept me motivated. Thank you. <3 

jaesauce:

The only thing Carver got from his father was his nose.  Tristan had called dibs on everything else: the magic, the humor, the skin that Peaches had always called “dusky” before dissolving into giggles, and basically all his belongings, too.  Not like Carver had any use for Father’s staff or robes, but it was the principle of the thing.  It wasn’t any different Kirkwall, not really.  Tristan stepped into the city and made it his and all Carver got out of that was Mother’s anxiety and a fair share of Gamlen’s debt.

“Cheer up, Junior,” Varric said over the swill they called drinks in Lowtown.  “You know what they say: smile and all of Thedas smiles with you; cry and blah blah blah someone will cut your purse while you’re whining.”

“Must be a dwarven saying,” Carver said and went back to watching the tavern.  He and Varric were at the bar and Tristan was at a table.  With Anders, who Carver didn’t give a shit about, and Merrill.  Merrill, who Carver shouldn’t like but did anyway.  She looked like a spring sapling, even in the damp dimness of the Hanged Man, all fresh and surprisingly strong against storm.

There’s been squabbling over it when they came in, of who got to sit next to Tristan, but Anders had won that battle and outmaneuvered the elf and propped up so close to Carver’s brother that their shoulders rubbed whenever they reached for their drinks.  Idiots, Carver thought and then said aloud to Varric.  Though he was secretly relieved.  Anders was good something after all.

Anders trying and failing at flirting with Carver.