#but i found them both today

[royallygray]

[aimzicr]

Okay but Lae'zel and Gale.

Gale 'I like your musk' and Lae'zel 'I want to taste you'. Gale 'I read that the adrenaline from fighting makes you horny' and Lae'zel 'the battle rage is in my blood - and yes'.

Gale taking notes during the ceremorphosis lesson while everyone else is flinching. Lae'zel kicking Elminster out of camp and then pulling Gale up by his collar snarling for him to pull himself together and acknowledge his own power and strength, or so help her she'll throw him into the dirt.

Gale being smart enough to see the zaith'isk for what it is and talking Lae'zel through (or out of) the procedure. Lae'zel and Tara bonding over killing animals and bringing them to Gale to cook (Tara's not even going to be mad that Gale would prioritise a boar over a pigeon).

Gale apologising for being monogamous after all he's been through, and Lae'zel being 'no-one else can have what is mine, I will not share or be shared with anyone but you'. Battle buffs and fireballs.

Shining silver armour and soft purple velvet. 'Me and the baddest bitch I pulled by being autistic'. Big Buff Warrior GF and her nerd BF.

Is this anything.

[fictionadventurer]

Everything I learn about Rose Wilder Lane makes me more and more aware that she was a hilariously outrageous person who needs a movie made about her immediately.

After leaving Missouri, she moves to California and marries a real-estate guy who once tried to get her to help him con the railroad.

She gets hired at a San Francisco newspaper known for its yellow journalism, where she does things like writing a series of columns featuring the "real-life stories of a police detective" who, in real life, was a high-end jewel thief.

Her first book is a first-person "autobiography" of Charlie Chaplin that she (after a few interviews with Chaplin) completely made up, and that Charlie Chaplin immediately threatened to sue her publisher for.

Her second book is a biography of Jack London, which his wife only reluctantly allowed her to write because Rose presented herself as "someone who had never written for the newspapers before and needs a chance to break into the magazines." This book was also almost entirely fictional, and her publisher also almost got sued over it.

Third biography is the first-ever biography of Herbert Hoover, also a heavily-fictionalized account. (Doesn't seem to have been sued for this one. Steps in the right direction!)

Traveled as a reporter through Europe (to places like Albania and Poland) post-WWI. (If we want to talk about legal things that she did).

Wrote a book based on Laura's late-childhood pioneer experiences while Laura was writing the early books of the Little House series, and did not tell Laura about it. (Laura was ticked off).

Kept trying to insert a story into Laura's memoirs (and Little House on the Prairie) casting Pa as a member of a posse that hunted down the infamous (and never-caught) serial-killing Bender family (despite the fact that this was historically impossible). (It got to the point that Laura herself told this story to the public as an example of "a true story I couldn't out in my children's book." Despite the fact, I say again, that this was historically impossible).

During WWII, endured a minor incident (it involved one cop coming to her house) where the FBI investigated her as a potential communist based on a postcard she sent that was critical of the government. Turned this into a short story that presented herself as the righteously-outraged American citizen fighting against an oppressive government, and used this to whip up a nationwide media campaign against J. Edgar Hoover for spying on American citizens.

Flew to Vietnam as a war reporter when she was in her seventies.

[spyderschaos]

Drawing the evers!!

[shivunin]

Two Apace

(Cullen/Elowen Lavellan pre-relationship | 1,297 Words | No warnings)

"For I am bound with fleshly bands, Joy, beauty, lie beyond my scope; I strain my heart, I stretch my hands, And catch at hope." -Christina Rossetti, "De Profundis"

Cullen paced around the training ring, pausing to demonstrate the proper way to hold one’s shield before pacing away again. 

This practice session was much like others he’d held over these past months. The ones who’d volunteered for the mixed units had improved drastically, their troop cohesion strengthening as they learned each other’s strengths and weaknesses. The impact of simply understanding how a non-mage unit worked had improved the tactics of the mages drastically. Before, it had never occurred to Cullen that they might not know much about the composition and strategy of non-magical military units. Now that they did…

Well. He was proud of them; that was all. 

So this session was much like others had been, complete with its requisite crowd of observers. There was no need for nerves; no need for the catch in his breath, the tingle at the back of his neck. There was certainly no need for him to keep glancing at the far corner of the ring where the Inquisitor stood, watching. 

She’d been quiet since the previous morning. He hadn’t seen her at dinner later, and when he’d briefly stopped by Herald’s Rest (not to look for her!) she’d been absent there as well. He’d assumed that she must have forgotten about this practice, but when he’d commenced the first practice bout for warmups she’d been standing right there, a calm expression on her lo—on her face. 

Cullen had been struggling to regain his composure ever since. He wasn’t sure how successful he’d been, but at least his soldiers hadn’t seemed to notice. 

“Last bout,” he shouted over the clang of steel, and the mass of soldiers reformed itself into two groups, each composed by a mixture of archers, swordsmen, and mages. He snuck a glance at the Inquisitor, who’d climbed onto the bottom rung of the fence and steadied herself on the vertical post to her left. Her eyes were focused on the groups, who’d begun to send blunted arrows and quarter-strength magic at each other, and not on him at all. 

He reminded himself of that firmly when the corner of her mouth arched up, reshaping her generous mouth into a rare expression of happiness. Maker, he was a fool. 

She wasn’t looking at him. 

Cullen cleared his throat and turned his attention away again, striding behind the rearmost line of the soldiers on his right and ordering them about until the gap at their flank closed, and then repeating the process on the other side when one of the mages slammed the butt of her staff into an archer’s ear. There was plenty to focus on that wasn’t the shape of their leader standing heads above most of their watchers; Cullen exerted his formidable control to manage just that for the rest of the bout. 

Even so, he couldn’t help but wander in her direction when the groups broke up and began to drift away again. 

“Inquisitor?” he said. Lavellan blinked at the ring before turning her attention to him. 

There was something about her eyes, he decided; something about her stare that made one feel uncomfortably seen, as if the perception in them cut through the layers of steel and cloth and arrowed to the heart of him instead. 

He cleared his throat and went on:

“What are your thoughts?”

“Hmm,” she said, pursing her lips, and went on after a moment. “I think it’s inspired.”

“I know the mages still need some practice in working as part of a group,” Cullen rushed to say, so quickly that he hardly heard her. “Half the time, the soldiers stationed next to them need redirection to keep from shying back from certain types of spells, but—what?”

She was smiling again, but this time she was looking right at him. 

“I think it’s inspired, Cullen,” she repeated. “It’s a brilliant idea. Truly. I couldn’t have imagined it when I left; it is heartening to see them work together like that now. I can’t think of a single group of enemies who fights quite like that, and I can see how the tactics you’ve taught them here will counter other units in battle.”

The Inquisitor paused, cocking her head so a lock of brown hair drifted loose from the rest. Cullen curled his hands into fists to resist the immediate temptation to brush it back. It wasn’t his place; it wasn’t his business. He shouldn’t even be wanting to…

“You should be proud,” she told him, tilting her chin up in that way she had. “I would be. It was a great deal of work, I imagine, and you’ve accomplished a great deal in a short span of time. I can’t wait to see what you manage next.”

“I—thank you, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, taking a step closer and leaning against the other side of the fence. “I appreciate…well. I am glad you approve.”

“I do more than approve,” she said. When she paused, her stomach made a soft noise and she pressed a hand to it. 

“Forgive me,” she laughed. “It would seem I’m due for breakfast.”

“Ah—yes,” Cullen said, echoing the laugh. “I suppose I ought to do the same.”

“I’ll see you later?” she asked, and Cullen blinked. “Our sword practice? This evening?”

“Ah—of course!” Cullen said, straightening; it was Wednesday, so of course— “I will see you here.”

“See you here,” she echoed, and took several steps back toward the stairway to the great hall. She didn’t look away, and Cullen found that he couldn’t, either. He braced his hands on the fence instead and watched her go. 

“Yes,” he said, for lack of anything else to see.

“Yes,” she echoed, and turned to walk away when her heel bumped into the stone of the staircase. 

Cullen ruffled a hand through his hair when she vanished through the doors, exhaling slowly. 

What…did that mean? He’d no idea. Perhaps he was imagining things. But it had seemed like…

He shook his head at himself as he retrieved his armor and mantle, then stepped through the opening in the ring to trudge back up the stairs. 

Obviously, he was imagining things. 

|

She wasn’t imagining it.

Elowen stood with her back against the stone wall for a moment, taking deep breaths. Her heart thundered in her chest, such that she fancied she could feel it to her very fingertips. 

She’d watched carefully. Not once had he looked at one of the people he’d taught the way he looked at her when they practiced together. Not once had he flushed or dropped his eyes. 

How did she feel about that?

She didn’t know. 

No—she did. Because that feeling in her stomach wasn’t dread at all, wasn’t sick discomfort or disappointment. There was fear there, yes. She knew fear all too well. But—she wasn’t afraid of Cullen. 

It was strange, because she had been afraid of him once—that first day on the mountain. Now, the memory of it seemed so strange to her now, as if it had been someone else’s memory, someone else’s feelings. She couldn’t imagine being afraid of him now. Cullen would no more hurt her than he would…

Elowen realized, with precisely the sort of dawning comprehension she’d been trying to avoid, that she couldn’t even think of a proper comparison. It was just…something she knew. He wouldn’t hurt her if he could help it. That was all. He was—he was as true and honest as a drawn blade, as concretely himself as a piece on the chess board. There was no artifice to him; nothing to doubt. 

That is, she decided, gathering herself to go on into the hall, where she could hear people speaking, the clink of metal on stoneware, what scares me the most.

[clarabowmp3]

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[la-galaxie-langblr]

today on random languages my brain is going 👀 at is biblical hebrew and biblical greek

[capn-twitchery]

i am SO excited to see everyone's hallowmas fits......i love masquerade themes and this one is Even Cooler bc it's spooky

i still don't have ideas for my guys.....i might still see if i can get sacristan hands theme to work for twitch. but grace?? i have NO idea. i love him dearly but he is boring. he is not an extravagant halloween costume kind of guy

i would force them into matching costumes but i have no ideas for that either. hmmmmm

[wahooworld-doublehelix]

Listen its a time™ as both a Splatoon player and KH Mobile Game Enjoyer

[kirk-goes-to-gallifrey]

we are SHINee we are five.

Happy 15th shineeversary to all 🎂🥳💎

[deus-ex-mona]

me rn:

[dawdlecentric]

Man, this doujin isn't fucking around

Meanwhile, Seikuri in the background...

Doujin: Flashbackers by Totobe

[wicked-west-cats]

Must be rough losing them so young huh?

shadowbelly looking at lil memorial graves of his parents ft itty bitty roachkit unaware of sad things

[duine-aiteach]

Additional (primarily derogatory) LGBT+ Terminology as Gaeilge:

Piteog, Piteachán, Piteán - effeminate. Translated as faggot, fairy, shirtlifter

Cigire tóna - backside inspector, noted in Gaeltacht area in Donegal. Giolla tòna is the Scots Gaelic equivalent

Lúbtha - bent, translated as queer

Cam - bent, translated as queer

Gearrán - gelding, translated as butch, dyke and queer

Aiteach - is the given word for queer from An Foclóir Aiteach, translates as weird

Leaid aniar - unsure of the exact meaning but it is grouped with both piteog and cigaire, shirtlifter. Leaid - lad; aniar - from the west.

Síog - fairy

[bilbao-song]

i don’t remember seeing this here before so! here it is 💕

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

The Person of Interest, previously known as "The Guy" before finding out they are also genderqueer and uses they/them exclusively, just sent me a voice message and the nerves are nerving, why am i nervous to open a voice message 🙃