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we need a penelope au for zosan SO badly.... sanji who unfortunately has the vinsmoke curse and sora and zeff do everything in their power to try and break it (someone of noble blood has to love him - both sora and zeff were born commoners).... nami whos a journalist who sees sanji and shes kinda greedy so she knows the blacklegs are willing to pay anything.... zoro an alcoholic gambler that owes nami a lot of money and she thinks hes the blood son of lord hawkeyes...... zoro and sanji talking through that mirror and bickering and ever so softly falling in love with each other...... sanji growing tired of the wait and revealing himself only to see zoro recoil when he shows him his face..... sanji running away and finding luffy and moving in/working in a restaurant while wearing a mask all the time amd the blacklegs and zoro desperately looking for him...... sanji gets found out by the public but he gets more support than everyone thought he would... and a marriage proposal from pudding charlotte of noble blood, what would supposedly end his curse.... however hes still in love with zoro so he runs away at the altar and when his mom asks why he says its not fair that he has to change who he is to be loved he doesnt Want that and thats when ~magic happens.... bc all along the person with noble blood that needed to love him was himself.... (he still keeps the curly eyebrows tho)..... next day he sets out to find zoro - which he knows where to find bc luffy - still wearing his mask, and zoro confesses that he could never break the curse but HE doesnt care about it he just wants sanji however sanji is and if sanji will take him.... so sanji takes the mask off and kisses him and zoro says something bickery about his eyebrows and sanji calls him a mosshead again but its all perfect bc theyre together and they would be either way

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The other night husband and I were watching a documentary about the yeti where they were doing DNA analysis of samples of supposed yeti fur, and every one of them came back as bears.

Anyway, the next night we watched a thing about some pig man who is supposed to live in Vermont. People said it had claws and a pig nose but walked upright like a man. Now, I happen to know that sideshows used to shave bears and present them as pig men. So every piece of evidence they gave of this monster sounds to me like a bear with mange.

So now the running joke in our house is that everything is bears. Aliens? Bears. Loch Ness monster? Bear. Every cryptozoological mystery is just a very crafty bear.

Bears. They’re everywhere. Be wary. Anyone or anything could be a bear.

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The Beach

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disney sitting on the greatest potential live action remake of all time like a bloated dragon makes me so fuckin mad

do you know how cool Treasure Planet would be as a live action? to see all that gorgeous space rendered as if it were real? to see Long John Silver's biomechanics come to life?

but no. because disney is a coward afraid of the dog/cat mpreg.

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wait actually crack one piece au: sanji, through a series of shenanigans, accidentally beats mihawk and by technicality earns the worlds strongest swordsman title because at one point he did kick a sword to use it

both sanji and zoro hate this with the fury of a thousand suns. sanji, because now he keeps getting challenged by swordsmen and women and zoro because... well, duh. and sanji does feel bad, bcuz he didn't want the title, he only faught mihawk cuz zoro was busy at the time! its not his fault he actually won!

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ZOSAN AU where the straw hats don’t meet Sanji until they accidentally crash his wedding in Whole Cake Island and they still manage to make enemies with Big mom and run away with the groom.

THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE MY VALENTINES POST EVEN THOUGH IT’S NOT VERY VELENTINEY, BUT IT IS WHAT IT IS AND WE DONT WASTE FOOD IN THIS SHIP

HAPPY VALENTINE’S!! ❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕(And my birthday’s eve!!)

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Dragon Age: The Veilguard

Fen'Harel altars

I was wondering if any of those glowing runes/symbols mean anything

The answer is: ....ehm.. kinda?

basically it's something like a reminder? to jump in time? useful I guess??

maybe I'll try to see if another altars has more visible runes or idk

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so the thing about english is that people think it's so divorced from other germanic languages based on like. words. I've even heard people try to insist that english is a romance language. because of that whole messy business in 1066 with out-of-wedlock willy and his band of naughty normans. and now a good chunk of the vocabulary is french or whatever and they're prestigious so not using them makes you sound like a rube and this and that and the other

and yes william the conqueror will never be safe from me. I will have my revenge on him. he fucked up a perfectly good germanic language is what he did. this will be me in hell

but the thing is that most words in, say, german do have a one to one english equivalent. not all hope is lost, for those who still dare to see it. it's just that you 1066pilled normancels aren't looking in the right place

dog (en) ≠ der Hund (de) but der Hund (de) -> hound (en)

look with your special eyes. that one was easier. not all of them are this intuitive because of semantic narrowing and broadening and waltzing and hokey-pokeying and whatever else. I'll give you a few more

animal (en) ≠ das Tier (de)

aha! you think. I've got him on the ropes now.

but then

das Tier (de) -> deer (en)

nooooo!! you whine and cry in gay baby jail. the consonants are different!!! listen to me. listen, I say, putting both my hands on your shoulder. /t/and /d/ are the same sound. you just put your voice behind one of them.

nooooooooo!! you wail. deer are animals but not all animals are deer!!! listen to me. LISTEN. they used to be. animals used to be deer. that's just what we called them. it was a long time ago. it was a weird time in all our lives. it's okay.

let's try for a verb this time

to die (en) ≠ sterben (de) but sterben (de) -> to starve

same principle with the consonants, we're just changing a stop (where we completely stop the airflow and then let it through) for a fricative (where we still let some air go through. idk where it's going. maybe to its job or something.)

to starve used to mean generally to die, not just to die of malnourishment. we do that a lot. we take one word for a lot of things and make it mean one thing. or take one word for one thing and make it mean a lot of things. this is common and normal.

"okay but roland," you say, suddenly coming up with an argument. "what about tree? trees are super common. I don't think we'd fuck around too much with that. the german word is baum! what about THAT?"

"when did you learn german?" I ask, but then decide it isn't relevant right at this very moment. but fine.

tree (en) ≠ der Baum (de) but der Baum (de) -> beam (en)

beam??? you ask incredulously. beam???? BEAM?????? you continue with the same tone and cadence of captain holt from brooklyn 99.

yes. beam. like the evil beams from my eye I'm going to hit you with if you don't stop shouting.

but the vowels!!! you howl.

listen. listen to me. the vowels mean nothing. absolutely nothing. they're fluid like water. it got raised in english.

"WHAT DOES RAISED MEAN"

it doesn't matter right now. they were raised better than you, at least. stop shouting. open your eyes and see what god has given you. they're the same word.

"they're NOT the same word. they mean different things!"

we've been over this. they didn't used to. a beam was (and is) a long solid piece of wood. much like the long solid piece of wood I showed your mother last night.

FAQ:

Q: could english be some kind of germanic-romance hybrid?

A: do you become a sexy thing from the black lagoon just because you dressed up as one for halloween? english may have gotten a lot of vocabulary from norman french, but its history and syntax are distinctly germanic. that's what we base these things on.

Q: okay but what does it matter? this doesn't actually affect my day to day life

A: you come into my house? you come into my house, the house of an autistic man living in vienna austria and studying english linguistics and you ask me what does it matter? sit back down. I was going to let you go but now I have powerpoints to show you

Q: you're stupid and wrong and gay and a bad person

A: I know it's you, Willy

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my friend @astarionpavus and i were discussing how Spite and Justice probably have veeery different reactions to romances

(commission info // tip jar!)

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Ok I'm ready to share - here's a link to the moderately cleaned-up script of DA4 that I created that matches speakers to lines and is organized by conversation, up on google docs:

CLEANED-UP VEILGUARD SCRIPT HERE Here is the raw script as well. The cleaned-up version is all of the conversations that are in the game, but there seems to be a lot of deleted content or content that isn't dialogue in the conversations:

RAW SCRIPT OF VEILGUARD HERE

Feel free to use these for anything you want.

edited: I fixed the permissions hopefully 🥰

edited 2.0: Here is an explanation of how I did this.

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rb with your most common recurring theme in your nightmares. mine is pregnancy

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Happy Friday!! 💚👀

How about: the last thing i want is to see you get hurt. Featuring Arlow and Viago?

thank you for the prompt!! it hit really well, which is to say that it got much longer than I intended 😂 but here we go, from the requisite "Viago routinely poisons Rook de Riva" bit to Angst and Feels and Crow Politics 🤌

Arlow de Riva & Viago | 2035 words | @dadrunkwriting - da4 spoilers

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Not for the first time, Arlow hesitated outside Viago’s study door. She knew he was within, but her stomach churned with worry and anticipation. She was happy, unbelievably happy, and he had the power to crush that with a single look.

She unclenched her fist and stared down at the ring. Dragon bone, inlaid on a band of intertwined nevarrite and obsidian. Black and purple and gold—the colors of the Crows. But she had always been a Crow; this represented something so much more.

“I can hear you thinking out there. Come in, or go away—do not linger. It’s rude.”

It was so typical, so normal in a way that things had not been for a very long time, it almost erased Arlow’s concerns. Her fingers closed, hiding the ring from view, and she pushed the door open.

Viago had a spread of vials on his desk, and a tray for checking antidotes in the middle of the array. Emil was curled around his shoulders; his tongue flicked out at Arlow in greeting as she shut the door at her back.

“Hello Emil,” she said dryly. “Viago.”

“Come here.” He beckoned her forward with one hand; the other held a pipette filled with a murky brown-green solution. “Perfect timing. I need to test this.”

Arlow eyed the mixture warily. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d laid her up for days with one of his concoctions. But her constitution was better now, and so was his estimation of what was and wasn’t ready to test. Plus, if he knocked her out and the ring fell loose, she wouldn’t have to explain.

She propped herself on the free corner of his desk and opened her mouth. Viago dropped three precise dots of the solution on her tongue and waited, watching expectantly.

“Oh,” she choked, hand coming up to her throat. “That burns.”

Viago quickly scribbled a few notes in his journal. He set the pipette down and cupped her jaw, prying her eyelids back and turning her face toward the torchlight. He hummed, nodding to himself and making a few more quick notes. Arlow’s fist pressed hard against the polished wood of his desk, but the pressure did little for her—the poison might have burned her throat, but it was numbing her extremities now. It hurt, knowing she couldn’t roll her eyes to tell Viago to hurry up with the antidote.

She focused on her breathing. Despite her joking, she didn’t actually want to pass out in Viago’s study—she’d never hear the end of it.

“Okay, now this.” Viago drew a few drops of a yellowish liquid into a fresh pipette—if she had more control of her facial muscles, Arlow would have eyed it warily. It would not be the first time he fed her piss under this guise. But at the moment, she cared more about regaining her faculties, and she didn’t have the control to close her mouth, anyway.

She couldn’t tell how much he dropped onto her tongue, only that when enough of it hit, her nerves started buzzing like an angry beehive. He followed it with a spritz of something clear and vaguely acidic, then handed her a glass of water. She tossed it back, swished, and spit into the bucket on the edge of his desk.

“Well?”

Arlow flexed her fingers, running her tongue around the still-tingling inside of her mouth. “Assuming you wanted instantaneous numbing, I’d say it needs work. Not that I’d be precise or anything, but I definitely would have been able to haphazardly stab someone for at least the half minute you had me sitting here.

And as they both knew, half a minute was more than enough time to kill someone. Viago pursed his lips, nodding and muttering under his breath as he made more notes. “Good, good. Did you need something?”

“Yeah, um.” Arlow licked her lips, letting him think she was still recovering from the poison’s effects. It wouldn’t alter his results that much. But in truth, the sweat on her palms and the shake in her voice had nothing to do with what he’d given her. She took a deep breath and reminded herself that she was an adult and this was a choice she was allowed to make. Whatever Viago decided, no matter how much it hurt, would be on him. “I have to tell you something. And also ask a question.”

Her deliberately evasive phrasing drew his shaper attention as he corked one of his vials and set it aside. He folded his arms and raised a brow at her. “Out with it, then.”

Right. She uncurled her fingers and the torchlight caught fetchingly in the metal edges of the band, danced tantalizingly off the angular face of the stone. Viago froze, and she knew he had stopped breathing.

“That is a Dellamorte ring,” he said after a moment. Arlow’s throat constricted; it was both easier, and not, that he recognized it. “The Dellamorte ring, if I’m not mistaken.”

“You’re not.”

“Why do you have it?”

“Lucanis gave it to me,” Arlow said. “When he asked me to marry him.”

Emil’s tongue flicked out in a hiss; it was the only sound. Arlow pinched the ring between her fingers and held it up. It really was beautiful, and there was strength in both that, and the promise it represented. Barely breathing, she slipped it onto her finger and clenched her fist. “I said yes.”

She forced herself to look directly at Viago as she said it. Not defiance—determination, and respect. Her heart cared about what he thought, but as a Crow she owed her Talon at least this much, and she respected that.

“Of course he did,” Viago finally said. Arlow didn’t visibly relax, but her gut unclenched; he didn’t sound angry. “And of course you did. Mierda.”

His brow furrowed as he studied her, silent, and Arlow deeply regretted not doing this when Teia was around. Teia, at least, always knew what to say, and just said it, right away. And she could read Viago better than anyone—Arlow might suspect what the working of his jaw, or his fingers twitching in their gloves meant, but Teia would know for sure. And would say it, even if Viago wouldn’t.

But this was more than a matter of her personal relationship. Because of who Lucanis was, because of who they were, as Crows, this was a matter of politics. And Teia, dear as she was, was the Talon of another House. This was between Arlow and Viago.

“Are you sure?” Viago’s voice cracked, and he covered for it by stepping forward and taking her hand. His gloves were thick enough that she felt no warmth through the leather; she simply watched as he swiped his thumb over the ring. “I know you have been happy. I know he makes you happy. But he is the First Talon. Tying yourself to him in this way will have consequences. Lethal consequences, if you aren’t careful—and I think we both know you’ve struggled with that in the past.”

Arlow couldn’t help but laugh, soft and melancholy. It was so fitting, and she didn’t even cringe when Viago’s concern sharpened into a glare at her amusement.

“I am sure,” she said, curling her fingers around his and squeezing just once before letting go. “More sure than I’ve been of anything in a long time.”

Viago nodded slowly. “Very well. I—well. I suspect you would do what you wished, regardless of my thoughts. As you always have. I simply do not wish to see you hurt.”

A warmth bled through Arlow and the corners of her mouth ticked up in a slight smile. “It’s just a formality, Viago. If anyone plans to leverage me against Lucanis, they will do it whether I wear his ring or not. And if Lucanis hurts me, he will cut off his own hand before you ever get to him.”

“Good.” Viago huffed. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “You had a question, as well?”

“I rather thought you would ask it for me.” Arlow bit her lip. “I—well. It’s the matter of Houses, and which one I’ll belong to when this is done.”

Viago’s fingers clenched on the edge of the desk. Around his shoulders, Emil hissed, slithering around his neck in a reaction the distress Viago was holding back. Wordlessly, he removed the snake from his collar and deposited him back in his tank. He stayed there, staring down at the fire rune, back turned to the desk, and to Arlow. “That isn’t a question.”

“Cazza, Viago, do you need me to spell it out for you?”

“Yes!” he snapped, whirling around. “If you are asking permission to leave my House for his, then I would hope you have the decency to say it to my face.”

Okay. So maybe she did need to spell it out for him.

“That’s not what I’m asking,” she said softly. She slipped off the desk and walked to his side. “When you made me a de Riva, you saved my life. You made my life. And you made it one worth living. My heart belongs to that history as much as it does to Lucanis, and I am not so quick to cast it aside.” She took a deep breath. “But—there is only one way in which I truly stay a de Riva, and also marry Lucanis.”

Viago’s lips had parted with surprise as she spoke, an unknowable emotion shining in his eyes. Now, he pursed them, as she led him to the question she was actually asking.

“You want me to give you to him,” her murmured. Arlow nodded.

“But I know what that means,” she added hastily. “I know that it is not a choice, or a promise to be made lightly. If I thought for even a moment that it would be a detriment to our house, I would never ask. But—I do not think it will mean anything that you would not already do.”

She swallowed. “But if you’re not willing… I understand. And I will accept your decision, either way.”

“Well, that would be a first,” Viago snorted. He clasped her by the shoulders, and Arlow was surprised by how clear and certain his gaze seemed. She’d never known Viago to make a decision so swiftly. Usually, there were days of agonizing, debating, considering the angles. But not this time. “Arlow. Pajarito, you think I would let you get away? It was my hand that lifted you into this House, and it was my name that you wore out to change the world. And when I gave it to you—“ he swallowed, throat bobbing awkwardly. Arlow covered his hands with her own, eyes shining. It was the most words she’d ever heard Viago string together at once outside of a lecture and she thought she might be able to live on this forever.

“When I gave it to you, I didn’t know, but I was giving it a life beyond poisons, and scheming, and grief. I would not force it on you now, but de Riva is yours as long as you wish to wear it. And though he is hardly worthy, and it is dangerous, if you are asking, then yes. I will find a pair of gloves suitable to give you to him.”

Arlow threw her arms around his neck, lifting herself up onto tip toes, not caring that he was stiff under her for just a bit too long before he wrapped his arms around her torso and buried his face in her hair.

“Thank you,” she said against his chest. “I—thank you. Thank you.”

Viago drew back, his smile genuine, but worried. “Of course,” he said, even though they both knew no such assurance had ever been real. “Have you told Teia?”

Arlow shook her head, and to her surprise Viago threw back his head and laughed. Then he gestured to the door, grinning a bit too smugly for Arlow’s taste.

“Come,” he said. “I want to see her face when she finds out you told me first.”

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Lucanis & Davrin banter, because it was great seeing how they started as not trusting each other because of their differences (blight in veins / demon inside), but then over time finding that common ground and basically becoming drinking buddies and encouraging each other to fight better was very sweet.

spoilers for the end of the game ahead! (at least my particular playthrough of the final arc)

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post weisshaupt when both of them were angry/disappointed at themselves from that fight, so they argued with each other more. (until rook had to talk some sense into them):

and it actually helped:

-- and since then during the second arc they were more listening and helpful to each other with advices and such:

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-- (those last few really hurt to rewatch for the foreshadowing of it all :'(( ) and this one in the final arc, especially:

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Dragon age the veilguard spoiler:

Does solas have mange??

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Screenshot not mine, my top song was hot to go 😭

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Continuation of Rook!Oghren ; I was like "i need to do some solrook toxic enemies to lovers after the trapped-forever-together-with-someone-you-hate bad end. it has to be a dwarf and a grey warden so solas hates him extra... WAIT" anyways soghren otp 5ever