#I'm chewing chewing chewing

[yashley]

The Mighty Nein Reunion: Echoes of the Solstice 

[anastoza]

Mmmm yes, two of my favorite flavours in Gale's epilogue I'm not sobbing you are

[mossymeep]

I've admired Lorroakan for years-

[unpretty]

[fishatar]

More gear

[zivazivc]

so many brainworms about life in the troll tree and jd's adventurous side...

[lamardeuse]

I could write whole fucking essays about Ted Lasso’s nuanced exploration of class and masculinity and the myriad ways in which men are socialized to hurt one another through the medium of sport but because I’m lazy as hell I simply present these two screencaps in which the boy who was probably bullied in showers just like this one learns that he was, in this instance, the bully. This is so much more than a pandemic era feel-good comedy, I’m just - yeah. Holy shit.

[lesbianamalvada]

it/its pronouns are degrading and uncomfortable expecting people to be comfortable referring to you that way is selfish. also wanting be seen as a little gremlin creature, object, or thing, has nothing to do with "queerness" and everything to do with low self-esteem.

[thenegoteator]

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident the art of losing's not too hard to master though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

-- 'One Art' by Elizabeth Bishop

you ever think about how after everything Ahsoka told Vader "I'm not leaving you" and it wasn't enough

[ineed-to-sleep]

More Kuras because he uhmmm. Drives me insane ♡

[iizuumi]

what if i draw them kiss,,,,, what if i don't stop drawing them kiss, what then

[cupid-tune]

FEED US!!!!! MORE KANKRI MORE KANRMI

HOW COULD I SAY NO TO THIS take a whole page

[yashley]

[essektheylyss]

Genuinely, I just cannot comprehend anyone saying that Laerryn vs Essek in a duel would be an even fight.

Laerryn is a con wizard with the Tough feat, mechanically, just to START. She will kill a sitting politician at a moment's notice without worry. She's maybe the most overfunded wizard in history. Essek is a dex wizard who almost got taken out by a pair of magic sleep handcuffs. He defaults to utility caster. And, while both of them will become unhinged if the person they love is threatened in anyway, Laerryn will straight up take down the world in the process and Essek is just as likely to physically drag Caleb out of the fight instead of retaliating.

I'm sorry, but there is literally no contest here. Essek would be a very pretty stain on the ground in seconds. God forbid women do anything.

[ghouljams]

Friend.

Viking!Ghost with a huge wolf-dog.

Or, even better : shepherd!reader with a huge wolf-dog, or two ; big, ferocious babies who absolutely love the guy, smothering him in kisses and floof every time he visits his darling. Huge balls of fluff who are absolutely delighted when he picks both of them up as if they were still puppies. Reader falling a little bit more in love with him every time she catches him interact with them, gently talking to them as their tails wag and wag and wag. And Ghost who has to suck in a breath when he finds her asleep in the barn after she spent the night helping one of her sheep give birth, the two dogs acting as really big and warm blankets, along with all the other sheep ; just a huge pile of snuggles that won’t let any kind of cold wind through. Just utter cuteness, and the huge, powerful viking is smitten.

My period has been acting up since yesterday, and last night was a nightmare. I’m a little bit better, but I can’t eat otherwise it’s gonna start all over again. I am not hurt, I AM the hurt. I really wish I had a big doggo or one of my cats to snuggle with, or a partner to help with the panic attacks this shoot always comes with (or all of those, I need warmth and cuddles and love).

I wanna write, by I can’t, because brain not braining properly. So I’m imagining fluffy scenarios while listening to the rain outside.

The birds are singing in harmony with the rain. It’s a cozy melody.

Lots of love, Friend.

Mii, out (like a light, soon, probably).

You're getting used to the visits. The giant of a viking that hovers just at the edge of your fence, watching like he's got something to say only to turn away when you ask him to say it. The dogs like him, galloping over to the man every time his shadow crosses your fence. They wiggle and jump like puppies, pushing their big paws against his chest and stretching long with their heads back, the only man that hasn't been bowled over by them yet. You can't blame them for their affections.

Your guest scoops up one of them and cradles the overgrown mutt against his chest. Your dog, for all its ferocity, licks at his mask like the tamest pup in a litter. You get your flock settled before making your way over. It's a fair assumption the viking won't walk away with your dog, so you're guessing he's worked up the nerve for a conversation. You manage to get all the way to the fence, though he takes a step back when you lean against it. You switch your attention to the dog still on the ground and scratch under her chin. Her big eyes stare sadly up at you, as if you could pick her up like the viking.

"Ghost," he says, and you're struck by how rich his voice is, deep and smokey as a dwarves cavern, "you can call me Ghost," he explains, apparently having realized his attempted start at a conversation wasn't going to go anywhere.

"There another viking hidin' his face like you?" You ask him, the introduction is lovely (if a little awkward) but everyone in the village knows Ghost. Or, they know of him. Nobody really knows him. You figure that's what the mask is for.

"Suppose not," he replies, and there's a touch of humor in his voice you hadn't expected. It makes you think he's smiling. Somehow that makes your cheeks feel hot. Strange.

"What do you need Ghost?" You ask, leaning against the fence. He leans to put your dog down, and the other one goes to nose his hand. He scratches her head lightly before straightening up.

"Just came to pet the dogs," he tells you. You smile. "No show this time?" He asks.

"No wolves," you nod towards the pasture, your flock safe and sound as they graze. Your eyes land on the wolf fang sewn to his leather. It's familiar enough to make your heart squeeze. You wish he'd come for you.

-

You're not out in the pasture, or answering the door when he knocks. It's early but Ghost didn't think you'd be that sound a sleeper. Fucking hell it's early, he shouldn't even be here but he wanted to see you before he left and- and he couldn't stop himself. He was delaying leave for his own selfish desired, but he couldn't stop himself from coming out to your little pasture. He had no excuse for it, nothing he could tell you, but he didn't want to talk to you he wanted to see you.

These are two different things.

He wanders around the fence you've put up, sturdy, well maintained. He wonders if you fix it up yourself or ask someone else to do it. You could ask him, he'd fix it for you. He'd fix anything for you. As long as it was you asking, he could do anything.

He stops outside a little covered barn, the hay leading into it is fresh, the doors slightly ajar. It's a good bet if he's ever seen one. The hinges don't stick when he inches the door open to look inside.

One of your dogs lifts its head from your lap, and stares at him, it's fluffy tail wagging softly against the hay. You're asleep, of course you're asleep. Sprawled over the hay, your dogs cuddled around you, the rest of the sheep settled to huddle close to their shepherd as well. You're surrounded by thick wool and wirey dogs, hardly bothered by the animals and straw as you sleep through the wee hours of the morning. You don't even look cold.

Ghost unhooks his cloak, the black leather and wolf's fur feeling ominous in such a pastoral scene, and drapes it over you like a blanket. Your dogs sniff it inquisitively, nosing it until he pushes their heads away with gentle pats. He tucks the fur against your neck and strokes his knuckles against your cheek. You're so beautiful, soft and vulnerable even under your fangs. He would have taken you to bed last night if you'd let him. Stayed up to watch the ewe and her new lamb while you curled up under the pelt blankets to sleep. How safe must you feel? How safe would he feel?

His thumb strokes against the fur and he stands. You'll still be here when he gets back, maybe not in the barn but here. In the village, in your pasture, right where he knows he can find you.

And hopefully, you'll be wearing his cloak when he does.