#paloma’s asks

[paloma-writes-about-hellfire]

I like your writingggggg!!!!!!

omg thank you that’s so kind 🫶🏽

[hyperions-light]

@thevulturesquadron also asked for prompt 26 on the [Rook Codex Prompts]: A letter to Rook from a family member or close friend.

For Leth, that’s the VG, Teia, and Viago. We already have a Viago letter, so here’s Teia!

Thanks so much for asking! Prompts 2, 16, 17, 21, 26 asked/answered!

Leth,

Where in Thedas are you, and when are you coming home? Vi has been absolutely insufferable without you; I have had to throw him out of the Diamond three times in the last month. He’s furious you haven’t written back, and I may be, too, if you wait much longer.

I know he was angry, the day you left. He won’t say what happened. But you know how he is, Paloma; he was worried. He wanted to protect you. You were not there, but the other Talons were going to use it as an opportunity to get rid of you.

I know how Viago can be— I don’t blame you for ignoring him. I’m sure his letters have been… critical. But at least write back to me so we know you’re safe, Little Dove. I will send someone for you if you need it. He doesn’t have to know.

All my love,

Teia

P.S. Emil (the snake, not the dead man) has also been insufferable. Twice, he’s bitten someone Vi asked to take care of him. He only tolerates you. Come back before we run out of antivenin.

BONUS:

My Lady Teia,

Chasing down some friend of Varric’s who wants to end the world. Solas, he says. Never heard of him— Inquisition, apparently. Also, an actual god? Will believe it when I see it.

Headed into Tevinter (I know, and I’ll be careful). Don’t know when I’ll be back.

Miss basking in your luminous presence, etc., your Diamond, our Treviso, and Emil. He only likes brown mice. He’ll calm down a bit if you feed him on Wednesdays.

Yours in Eternal Devotion,

L. de Riva

P.S. Viago should also calm down if you give him his favorite food on Wednesdays and let him pet that orange cat at Café Pietra.

[screentunes]

🩷

[basically-a-god]

Hi!! You're Robin's mom right?

@likeapriceless-wine

Oh my god, are you another one of her stupid friends? Yes, I’m her mom. Why do you care?

[chyyy66]

I am so obsessed with this Paloma Diamond stuff on tiktok … it has taken over my everyday life … it so so good

[pouroverpaloma]

How about 21 with Gale and Daphne/a Tav of your choice?

Here you go! This is Daphne and Gale, sometime in December (so between chapter 9 and 10 of tbtptw).

“How long did you say before we rinse?”

“Twenty minutes at least. I try to do thirty if I have time.” Daphne adjusted the towel wrapped around her head, securing it with a tug.

With a pale December Sunday stretching before them and nothing of import to do, she’d half-jokingly suggested they do hair masks. She should have expected Gale to respond with genuine curiosity. He’d watched, intrigued, over her shoulder as she’d mixed plain yogurt, honey, and a raw egg into an unappetizing goop, and then as she’d shown him how to slather it into his hair and wrap the whole thing in clingfilm before covering it with a warm towel. Just like Seventeen magazine had taught her to do in 2009.

“It keeps the moisture in,” she’d explained as she tamped the end of the plastic wrap onto his forehead.

“If it’s good enough for yesterday’s pork chops, it’s good enough for me,” he’d replied dryly.

Now they reclined on his bed, hand in hand, watching the reflections of the sun on the water dance across his ceiling. It struck her all over again, as it so often did these past few days, how relaxed she felt. Something about spending time with Gale just made the tension unspool from her shoulders.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked.

Her face went warm. “I was thinking about you, actually.”

“Oh?” She could practically feel his smile from beside her. “Lucky me.”

“I’m just— I’m so relaxed around you. I can’t imagine a time when I wouldn’t be.”

Gale snorted. “I will absolutely test that hypothesis, I assure you.”

He squeezed her hand affectionately—right over the most callused pads of her fingers. This is why she usually gave him her left hand to hold; the manual nature of her work meant that everything from the cuticles to the palm of her dominant hand were work-hardened to hell. His soft, well-tended skin scraped against every rough patch and bump, made even more prominent by the dry winter air. Daphne stiffened, an embarrassed noise escaping her.

“…as it seems I already have,” he continued morosely. He rubbed his thumb in soothing circles over hers, brushing the toughened spot where she usually gripped her tools.

“No! No, you’re fine,” she rushed to clarify. “My hands are just kind of a mess. Bookbinding is one of those art forms where the art marks you right back, you know? Sorry they’re gross.”

She laughed, but he didn’t join her. For a moment, he was silent on the bed next to her, contemplative.

Daphne turned her head to look at him. He was already studying her, his face almost comically serious under his towel turban. Without a word, he lifted her hand to rest between them on the pillows.

He rolled onto his side toward her and cradled her upturned hand in both of his, analyzing it—analyzing her—with the same inescapable focus he’d shown all the way back during their first outing in Bjorn’s Hold. As though she were an artifact he’d just dug from the earth.

“You can tell so much about objects from their wear,” he said, soft but authoritative. “How they were used, how often, even how they were cared for.”

“Are you going to analyze me like a Roman coin?” she interjected, trying and failing to deflect his attention. Instead, he traced a gentle line along the divot between her thumb and forefinger.

“You hold the beeswax in this hand when you wax your thread,” he said. He found the small callus there, where she did indeed pull her thread through her fist when she waxed it. Her breath caught in surprise.

Gale’s touch skated onto her palm and up onto the base of each finger, where her skin was raw and angry from overuse. He frowned.

“I know, I know, disgusting,” she winced.

“Has one of your presses needed oiling? The very old one with the wooden handle?” he asked.

Oh. What?

“It’s, uh, the guillotine, actually,” she stammered, taken completely off-guard yet again. “It takes this expensive silicone-based lubricant, and we’re out of money for the year but I had to get enough blanks cut for our J-term class—”

Her voice died in her throat as he leaned forward and brushed a kiss to her palm. Then another, and another. Five in all. He settled back onto his side, his warm eyes still serious as he met her gaze again.

“Every cell of your body is as dear to me as my own,” he said. She wrinkled her nose incredulously at him, but he just grinned. “What a privilege it is to know the weight of your hand in mine, and what a privilege it is to know what makes it yours. Every new detail only lets me adore you more thoroughly.”

She didn’t have his way with words, but she could absolutely kiss the breath out of him. So she did, rolling onto him across the bed and crushing their lips together until his glasses were on sideways and both their hair towels were thoroughly disturbed. They would definitely have to wash these pillows. She didn’t care. There was a happy flush rising in his cheek, and she cradled it in the palm of her hand as she ducked to kiss him again.

[palomahasenteredthechat]

I've seen the rant post by Luna, I read some of it to get the gist of what she was saying here but I am lost..was she referring to JQ? If so, why?

WHIP AROUND THE SEA BEING PULLED IN WHATEVER DIRECTION THEIR AGENTS WANT THEM TOO INSTEAD OF HAVING AN OPINION THEMSELVES, ITS THE ARE YOU A PERFORMER OR A STAR OR BOTH DILEMMA THAT THE TRUTH IS MOST OF THE NOW WOULD RATHER BE THE LATER HAVE PERFUME DEALS, BECOME FIRST SEAT FACES OF FASHION HOUSES AND HAVE THESE CLEAN POLISHED NON-OPINIONATED 2D GREY SCALED BOREDOMS OF THEMSELVES MOLDED BY THEIR COLLAR PULLING AGENTS THAT GET THEM TO THE HEIGHT THEY FEEL THEY DESERVE THAT ALL OF YOUR FAVES THE PEOPLE YOU STAN, IDOLISE ADORE WON'T EVEN DARE SPEAK OF ON GOING GENOCIDES OR OBSCENITIES IN THE INDUSTRY IF IT MEANS THEY WILL HAVE A BRAND DEAL DEATH 2 CELEBRITY N' WEAK UNCUNTY RUNTS, THEY BECOME UTTER CARICATURES OF THEMSELVES ANYWAY IT GIRLS THEY WISH HUNKS WITH BOOKS IN BACK POCKETS I CHUNDER, VOMITING US THEIR 30 SECOND TIKTOKS OF HOW UNFUNNY THEY ARE IN THEIR CLANS OF POPULARITY FILLED WITH DESIGNER SCHMOOZE AREN'T WE BORED? AREN'T WE BORED OF THE SAME 5 FACES RECYCLED? ARENT WE BORED OF EVERYONE TRYING TO BE THESE AUTOMATED OVERTLY WHOLESOME OR TIN CAN LAUGHING VERSIONS OF THEMSELVES WITH LASER SKIN TREATMENTS TO MATCH, VENEERED FADS FACE OF SKIN CREAMS? OR PERHAPS THEY AREN'T INTERESTING OR WELL VERSED IN THE FIRST PLACE OF WHO THEY ARE OR COME FROM REAL VERSIONS OF LIFE THAT THE MOST OF US KNOW IN FACT THEY PROBABLY STUDIED SANSKRIT OR SOME ANCIENT LANGUAGE IN THEIR FEE PAYING SCHOOL THAT ALLOWED THEM TO FEEL EVER SO SPECIAL LIKE IT'S ALL FOR THE TAKING IN THE FIRST PLACE FROM THE MOMENT THEY STARTED SAYING GOO GOO GAGA IN SOME ANCIENT SYNTAX WHICH IS WHY THEY ARE SO EASILY MARIONETTED INTO ADVERTISEMENTS YAWN THEN WE ARE FORCED TO SEE THEM EVERYWHERE

The stuff in bold seems pretty specific, especially if you have been following the fandom discourse around him for the past two months.

The book in back pocket: spot on.

The perfume ad, private schooling, laser treatments (so that's why he looked so young at the Oscars!), etc. It's about UK talent as a whole but she's using very specific examples because she knows about them specifically in relation to him.

'they become utter caricatures of themselves'. She names what many have seen.

The why is the question, Nonny. Looking at this again I wonder if she reached out for him to do more about Gaza, since she was involved in the first charity event.

Also noting 'obscenities' - is this a dig at DC?

LUNA COME HAVE TEA WITH US

[intriga-hounds]

so if we have renly and big renly (milo) what does that make paloma?

mommy renly of course!

[rainyrambles-overcod]

Wait disregard my last ask.....I'm dyslexic😭😭 pamola n paloma-

oh wait I thought it was paloma—

I’m dyslexic I could have said either—

Woah I feel terrible I don’t remember ANY OF THEIR NAMES—

You’re all good, my friend!

[softerhaze]

jay watching his vicious little toddler tear her toys apart w/ her bare teeth: IM NOT WORRIED ABOUT IT!!!

[locitapurplepink]

Ask Your Opinion Poll Results so far 4

"Disney version"

I've been curious what most of you guys think of each character that I've been wonderin' if they are good or neutral or bad.

16. Isabela

Good, Neutral or Bad

17. Dona

Good, Neutral or Bad

18. Camilo

Good, Neutral or Bad

19. Dolores

Good, Neutral or Bad

20. Magnifico

Good, Neutral or Bad

Note : Looks like most of these characters are good people based most peoples' vote.

Good : 60%

Neutral : 20%

Bad : 20%

[ludinusdaleth]

I need you to go listen to Labour by Paris Paloma and think about Ludinus and Liliana

oh believe me it was one of the first songs i associated with them! if/when c3 is animated i think it's destiny for an edit of them to be made to the cacophony version of it.

[raisedbydragwolves]

paloma during the finale of drag race france, season 2.

bonus: keiona's crowning.

[mhedusard]

The golden flower reading Pascal a story book 🤨

WHAT JAN IT'S SO CUTE I LOVE IT FJFJDKF

[ashchoo]

Hiii I just wanted to give some of my hcs for Paloma (oc) and Ashton if they were siblings

The two would probably banter quiet a lot (in a sibling way) even as adults and get on wallys nerves

Paloma would teach Ashton Spanish (if they didn't alr know it)

Paloma wasn't rly liked at school, so Ashton probably defended them

They'd play cowboy games with colt and Ricky (Palomas bsf, Barnabys kid)

Paloma would let Ashton play with their hair

After Paloma came back from boarding school with a scar on their right eye and loss of vision, I feel like Ashton wouldn't let them out of their sight (I need to drop lore soon 💔)

The two definatly listen to music with each other and do mini concerts for each other

Palomas a theater kid so Ashton and Paloma probably reenact plays to help with her performances

When Paloma comes back from boarding school every school break, they bring goodies and suvineers for the family (food and small trinkets)

Ashton was probably the loudest person cheering Paloma whenever they had games (so was Paloma lol)

Palomas let's Ashton talk about their day and vice versa

The two probably got in trouble quiet a lot (Paloma just followed along cuz they had nothing else to do, same goes with ricky)

Ashton helped Paloma out when they were first learning English and getting used to living in the U.S

That's all I have rn but I'll be sure to post more 🙏

YESSSSSS

ashton is getting into every little secret and sharing it with Paloma. We love some troublemaking!! Ashton also absolutely plays and runs around with them and then makes snacks when they’re both tired

[pouroverpaloma]

7 Rolan+Tav? please ❤️

Sure thing!! Here you go @rizzikale ❤️‍🔥 I used the drow barbarian Tav from true love is the devil’s crowbar, because I figured that was your vibe.

Here’s the thing. Tav loved Rolan. She’d loved Rolan for, oh, two or three tendays? And the way things were looking, she was going to continue to love him well into her rapidly-stabilizing future. She loved his drive, and his sense of justice, and the way he applied his boundless mental energy to making magical education accessible to anyone.

She did not, however, love that his zeal for arcane education extended so far into their private time. Especially when he frequently seemed to forget she was nowhere fucking close to magical. Honestly, even the little flames and tricks of light that every drow child learned had always escaped her—

“Again!” Rolan called from the other side of the library, beckoning with a clawed hand. “You came quite close that time. Remember, glacies.”

He his the middle syllable hard, with an arch in his palate. That must have been where she’d fucked up. Possibly. Somehow.

Stifling a sigh, Tav raised her hands and repeated the wrist-flicking motion he’d spent all morning teaching her. A faint, but promising, hum of magic buzzed in her palms for the split second before she opened her stupid mouth and said,

“Glachies!”

A limp stream of sleet splattered from her hands and onto the polished wood floor near her feet. Another spike of frustrated, embarrassed anger surged up her throat, and she swallowed it back down just like every one before it. Her hands curled into fists as she dropped them at her sides. For him, she was doing this for him, she reminded herself.

“It may be your accent,” Rolan mused, totally unperturbed by yet another failure on her part. He vanished the puddle of icy slush with a casual wave. “I have also done some reading on the differences between high elvish and drow magic that may provide a more complete perspective—”

“Or maybe I just can’t do magic!” she interjected, forcefully cheerful but still loud enough that he startled. Fuck, of course. She knew better than to—in here, of all places—gods damn it this was going so fucking badly. Surely he could see that? Surely he’d drop this whole farce of an experiment and just take her out for lunch or something. Take her over the couch, even. She wasn’t picky. Anything but this.

“Nonsense,” he said dismissively. “Even the most facile learner can cast a cantrip; and you, my dear, are not facile. It merely takes superior instruction. Again.”

Tav tried. She did. She stuffed down her feelings again, and raised her arms, and even got most of the way through the somatic component, before a much more familiar power ripped through her. Mindless, incandescent rage overtook her completely. Her vision went red and blurred, and the rest of her brain could only watch in horror as her hands picked up an armillary sphere and heaved it over the railing of the reading room with a deafening roar.

Satisfied, her rage drained away as quickly as it appeared. The heavy brass fixture crashed to earth somewhere in the basement. Echoes of its demise reverberated throughout the tower.

Chest heaving, eyes enormous, she slowly turned to face Rolan. His noble face was frozen in shock as he looked back at her. A flicker of fear passed over his expression as his gaze met hers. Again, she remembered that they were standing in the very same room where Lorroakan had beaten him senseless, and guilt crashed into her like a runaway cart.

“Rolan,” she breathed. “Rolan, I’m so sorry. Please don’t be scared of me, please, fuck, I’m so sorry—”

He took a step toward her from across the room, then another, slow and deliberate. Grief nearly choked her. This was it, wasn’t it. She’d ruined it.

“You don’t have to—I can just go, I understand, you don’t have to worry,” she rushed out, holding her palms up beseechingly. He was halfway to her now and quickly closing the gap. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me like that; it’s my own fault that I let it get so bad, I just got so frustrated but that’s not something that should be your problem—”

In an instant, he pulled her flat against the broad wall of his chest and slotted his mouth to hers, warm and insistent. Her protests died in her throat. Wait, but—she’d just—and now—

“I can hear you thinking,” he murmured. “It’s all right. Everything’s all right.”

“But—”

“Shh.” He snaked a hand around the back of her head and crushed her into another, deeper kiss. She swayed on her feet and he caught her, one strong arm wrapped firmly around her waist. When he slipped his clever tongue past her lips, she finally let her eyes slide closed. He hummed encouragingly.

“There we are,” he said. “Much better.”

Tav pulled back to look at him, grabbing the front of his robes to get his attention. “Do you have any idea how badly I could have hurt you just now?” she asked bluntly.

“Non movere.”

His amber eyes flared with humor as every joint in her body locked in place. Threads of pulsing violet light wrapped her like vines; barely leaving enough room for her to breathe. Rolan leaned in close.

“The day we met, you punched Aradin so hard that we all hoped you’d killed him. Be assured that I have a very clear idea of how badly you could hurt me. I simply will not let you.” The words could have been condescending, especially from him, but the rawness in his voice and the anxious set of his mouth made clear the promise he was making. Safety. Not just for him, but for her, too—the safety of his unconditional, complete acceptance. Even when her ironclad self-control wavered and her rage slipped its leash, he wouldn’t flinch. He wouldn’t leave.

He seemed to know exactly when she’d grasped his point, in that preternatural way he had, because he dismissed the enchantment with a flick of his fingers. Tav took a great gulp of air as her magical bindings loosened.

“As much as I believe in your arcane potential,” he intoned, taking her hands and kissing them apologetically, “it seems I have ignored that the basest component of all magical acts is will. And you, dear one, do not wish to be here at all.”

“No,” she blurted, and thank every god above and below, Rolan laughed. “I mean, magic is important! Uh, and I love that it’s important to you, but for me—I’d rather just spectate. If that’s okay.”

“In that case.” He made a complex gesture, and a bouquet of luminescent mushrooms and Underdark ferns appeared in her hands. She gasped in delight. “I’ll make you the most accomplished spectator on Toril.”