#any other fans out there I hope vainly to reach with these tags???

[loversreason]

Okay, I have to talk about this or I’m going to explode.

This is a score sheet from the US Women’s Gymnastics National Team Camp that was released yesterday (7/14/23).

Do you? see? What I? SEE?!?!

She’s BACK SHE’S FUCKING BACK.

When Simone Biles withdrew from the Tokyo olympics I was so fucking proud of her. But I also cried. Because I love watching Simone Biles, and I honestly thought I’d seen her compete for the last time.

When she announced she was going to compete at 2023 Worlds, I was very excited, but working hard to temper my own expectations. I told myself I’d be happy if she medalled at all in any event.

Because Simone Biles is twenty-six, which in elite gymnast years is NINETY-FUCKING-FIVE. The top five other gymnasts on this list are all younger than 18. And not only is it essentially impossible for an olympic-tier gymnast to come back from a break, but also, Simone has ALREADY come back from a break no one said she could come back from, when she took a year off after the 2016 olympics. It’s very rare for one gymnast’s career to be long enough to compete at TWO olympics. If SB is still competing a year from now, she will make it to three.

So. Now that you understand the odds stacked against her, go back and look at that score sheet.

Because you fucking best believe I WEPT today. Look at those numbers!!! That score would win gold at any Worlds Individual All-Around since 2015, except in 2019 when she would have lost only to herself.

If Simone Biles wins the AA gold at worlds in September, she will be the oldest gymnast to do so since 1950.

SO, In Summary: do not ever act like you know where Simone Biles’ limits are. You will only make yourself look stupid.

[mythalsknickers]

For DA Drunk Writing! Pairing of your choice "Thank you, I love it."

TITLE: A SparkPart of Vir’sul El’u EolasPAIRING: Solas x Fen’aslan/EvunialaRATING: Teen?TAGS/WARNINGS: Post-Trespasser, Angst, Magic Solves EverythingWORD COUNT: 1911

I hope you all enjoy this labor of unedited love, once I am not tired I will probably go over this a bit better so it can be incorporated into a later chapter of my post Trespasser fic. This is unbeta’d and a sneak peek. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. @dadrunkwriting

Silence hung over the castle like the starless night. A soft smile took shape on her lips as she stared up at the sky watching the way the pitch turned to navy, every once in a while, there was fragments of green and each time they flared on the horizon her breath caught in her throat and her heart raced with hope he would tear the veil down before her scouts found him, hope he was finally coming back to her.  The mist-like magic that made up her new forearm gleamed like its own star as it flared briefly. In the months since she had come back to the Inquisition, they and the humans sped towards open war with Solas’ forces. It was not a path she wished to walk. He was her Vhenan.

As she parted her lips to whisper the same phrase she had been asking every night since her return, a hum of magic traveled through the ancient wards to her by prickling the hair on the back of her neck. It was an alert, not a warning, did she dare hope. Knitting her brow she pushed herself up looking over the grounds. In the gardens, a too familiar blue glow was barely visible over the wind battered rooftops.

Her heart lept into her throat, she didn’t want to hope, but she couldn’t stop the way her heart raced, or how breathing became a struggle. There was no proof it was Solas, it could be someone here to spy on her, or to kill her. She was trying to reason with her self vainly they were logical arguments, steps that in another world she would have taken if she had been in his position, she was his greatest threat. Stepping away from the balcony she entered into the dim amber warmth of her room.  As much as she wanted to convince herself it wasn’t him. She didn’t believe it even though it was the most likely answer. Instinctively her hand found her staff, it wasn’t needed for this hunt, but it would help her focus on her task. Carefully she made her way to her desk, silently she pulled the chair out and sat down.

Magic began to bleed into the room, as the phantasmal forearm lost the defined shape, reverting to a cloud of magic. Her opaline eyes shifted into a silver only found in the moon. Letting her magic reach out into the ancient wards, she began to search the echos of magic for her guest. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she focused around the Eluvian.

“Show me.” she rasped her voice choked with hope as a silent tear ran down her cheek.

Each echo was a fragment of memories etched into the very soul of Skyhold. The oldest being when Morrigan had arrived from the Winter Palace. But no sign of her guest. The silence of the night was broken by the howl of a wolf, her soul was calling for him. It was at that moment where the still of the night and the hum of magic shattered into a single mournful howl.

It was as if a fuse had ignited in the ancient wards. Silver eyes widened as she could feel the echos of his steps. Like ripples from a stone being dropped in a still pond. Her breath stuttered as she snapped her eyes shut. It was a burning ache in her chest, it couldn’t be him. Not after all this time. Squeezing her eyes shut tighter, salt-stung at her as tears threatened to burst into sobs. Like snapping a bowstring her magic recoiled into her. She trembled with the shock and heartache. Reflexively her hand tightened around the ancient ironbark of her staff. A hopeful but aching sigh was all that broke the silence as her eyes opened taking a purple shift to them. She would wait for him to come to her.

Time seemed to stand still, as the moon’s light fanned over her casting her copper hair in a silver sheen. The waiting had given her a chance to collect herself slowly pulling the silver magic back into the shape of her forearm. Her words beginning to haunt her.

The Inquisition will bow - but it will not be to either of you.

She had implied they would bow to the will of Divine Victoria, a Divine she had installed on the sunburst throne, but in the too still silence of waiting for him, a doubt had taken root in her stomach. How could she bow to someone she put into power. It was as if her organization was too powerful, to be drawn into the reins of Thedas’ current political powers. Ferelden who had tried to disband them, Orlais who sought to enfold them in the deadly game, and the Chantry who sat silent and judging the threat. Neither could control the wolf they had created.

Finally creaking wood echoed in the silent room, granting her a reprieve from her thoughts. Carefully she observed the stairway, her staff resting against her shoulder forcing her face to be the picture of calmness. Her heart began to pick of speed as the ancient protesting of her door opening, the soft clamor of armor rubbing together. Parting her lips she sucked in a breath as golden armor caught the faint amber light.

“Vhenan” her heart froze as she met his eyes. It had been easy to issue biting and ego cutting speeches to the exalted council or even to the nobles who came here seeking her aid in defending them their mistreated servants. She couldn’t make out what he was carrying aside from the color, it was a stark white. Everything about how he stood, screamed he was waiting for her to respond. Two leaders who were pitted on opposite sides of the coming war. What had Mythal said? Alas, so long as the music plays we must dance. She had never said anything about changing the music, or the dance.

It seemed like an hour had passed before in a single moment she shattered the silence that had fallen with a piercing screech of wooden legs against the ancient stone. As she stood her ironbark staff clattered to the ground. Carefully she stepped over her staff and around the desk, letting him see the magic that made up her forearm.

“Vhenan, what brings you to the heart of…your rival’s fortress?” She canted her head, her eyes fixed on him looking for the barest hint of anything in his body language.  It was as if two great wolves met and they were weighing the threat the other posed. Cautiously he took a step forward and she also stepped forward. She was at home here and she could not afford to lose what little control she had of the situation.

“You are not my rival, Vhenan. At least I hope not.” Her stomach fluttered as her face warmed. Her hands held onto her tunic desperately hoping that he was not going to abandon her. Not again.

As they drew closer she could see he carried a white wolf pelt, and dreams she had barely started to remember surged forward. Her phantasmal arm pulsed. Under ancient trees, she and Solas ran white and black paws stirring up the leaves. Under the full moon, she often ran ahead of him like the mural encouraging him to chase her.  She squeezed her eyes shut trying to shake away the distant memories. It wasn’t the time to sort them, to understand her past.

The silence seemed to stretch between them as slowly her eyes opened shifting from an opal reflecting stands of purple and turquoise to a moonlit silver.  He was here, outside of the fade and while everything in her wanted to close the distance he had forced between them. She couldn’t though, she was the Inquisitor, the leader of Andraste’s faithful, and with that came expectations, she would lead the fight against him as much as she and a small force of her most trusted, and probably a few of his spies worked against that, and the guilt of that tore at her to know if he died she would be the cause and that if she died he would likely blame himself again.

“Vhenan.” despite how quiet his voice was it shattered the silence and tugged her back to where they were now. Her eyes met his, did he know the secret she had worked to carefully keep hidden from most of the world. She drew in a breath as he stepped closer, something had changed, in the way he walked and held himself.

“Vhenan…” he paused just a step away from her “Please before we run out of time…come with me.” She drew back, her lips parting as her eyes widened in silent shock. Her thoughts raced as she searched his face, his posture, anything for a clue to what had changed to cause him to seek her out to bring her into his fold.  She knew since her return that Solas had agents in Skyhold, she didn’t have a definitive list of names but she had a few guesses and she couldn’t think anything that would have been reported back to draw him out.

“Why?” She couldn’t keep the suspicion away from her voice, even as struggled against the sting of tears threatening to fall. As she waited for his answer her eyes fell to the fur he carried, it wasn’t stark white, there were hints of cream and silvers in the long fur.  A slight shift as he adjusted his hold in the fur showed something that was almost like that looked like fine silk.

“Fen’aslan, I…” he paused holding her gaze there was no hardness and almost as if he had dropped the walls he had put up when he left her in the ruins. “I cannot apologize for my behavior, there is nothing that could make what I have done forgivable.” There was another pause. “We both carry burdens we cannot shrug off despite how much we may want to, however, I want to offer you a way to remove that burden completely.” Slowly he unwrapped the pelt to reveal the silk gown that seemed to be made of storm clouds. “A gift, should you wear it anywhere, at any time, someone will escort you to the crossroads and to a haven.”

Her fingers gently stroked the dress and fur, both seemed to be made for her, she could picture how they would compliment her.

“Solas…” she met his eyes. “Thank you, I love it.” it was a way out an escape from an already planned future. Tears that she had struggled against began to stain her cheeks as her mouth went dry. He was trying to save her in the most delicate and from what she could tell a well-planned way. From the outside, it would look as if she had been stolen away and imprisoned but it was a plan. Leaning forward she took the fur and gown from him.

“Please stay Solas at least for the night,” she whispered brushing her lips against his. Her chest tightened in a fragile thread of hope, he nodded his hand touching the magic that made up her left arm.

“Just the night Vhenan.” She gave a genuine smile that reached her eyes, for the first time in years. The world could wait for a single night.