thank you for following me I have nothing to offer

TOMORROW IS HALLOWEEN!!!

WHAT THE FUCK IT’S CHRISTMAS EVE WHY DID SOMEONE REBLOG THIS

TOMORROW IS HALLOWEEN!!!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

TOMORROW IS HALLOWEEN!!!

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Commander Cullen Rutherford begs himself to get a fucking grip. The war table sprawls before him, mid-afternoon sun descending quick and cold behind snow kissed mountaintops. It leaves a chill in the air, something brisk and soulless to compliment the shadows gathering in the corners of the room.

The aforementioned table has not yet spoken any magical words of wisdom, nor has it moved any of his pieces to show him where best to place the newest wave of ready recruits. Tapered candles burn slow and languid in their sconces, yet they've been lit long enough that they resemble mere stubs now, instead of the tall towers they once were.

They resembled pale shadows of themselves, much like the lot of you, still staring at the map, still glancing at one another in the flickering flames hoping something else comes to mind before this session is adjourned. Anything, Cullen wishes, but another moment of this.

You've been here most of the day, and Maker, does it show in the tired eyes of those gathered 'round. That hasn't stopped his mind from wandering throughout the day however, eyes all but fixed on you, regardless of the task at hand.  He lingers on the way your mouth pulls into a tired smile at something Leliana has said, though all Cullen hears is your laugh, sparkling through the room in an echo that warms the cold mountain chill from his bones.

Andraste have mercy.

He finds himself wrapping one hand tightly around the pommel of the ever present sword gilding his hip, while the other clings to the edge of the scuffed wooden table. With leather gloves adorning his hands, no one will notice the tightness with which he clings to his chosen anchors. No doubt were his knuckles white with the strain. With the force. Yet, as much as he would hope, in this moment, that no one could tell how he longs to reach for you, gilded golden, holy, divine, always so, so wretchedly beautiful - he knows Leliana is no fool. Nor are you, for that matter. The slight tremble in his hands can be hidden, but his eyes will always betray him.

He clears his throat, stumbling over his breath when you catch him staring from across the room. His name falls softly through your lips, sounding ever more like a hymn, even with the laziness of sleep weaving through your voice.

You coming?

The steel of the sword bites through his glove as he nods and follows you through the heavy door. Without thinking, his other hand lifts to graze along your lower back, guiding you while he trails behind. He returns your smile, hesitant, too wrapped up in the way you're looking at him, much as he thinks he's been fawning over you all day. Ridiculous, he insists. There's absolutely no way - you're his - the - Inquisitor, and he's sure that -

He feels your hand slip into his. It takes him a moment, to realize what you've done. To realize what you're telling him. It's jarring, the realization that he doesnt know anything, actually. Except, if Commander Cullen Rutherford knows anything at all, it's how much he's been dying to curl his fingers around yours and press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

So when he walks you to your quarters for the night, that's exactly what he does.

As much as Ivy says she doesn’t trust Solas, very adamantly so, there’s also a part of her that wants to hear about everything he’s seen and done. Someone that has seen and lived through so much, who knows the gods better than anyone in living memory, of course she’s going to want to pick his brain and learn anything and everything she can from him. She asks and asks and eventually he starts telling her what he can, part of him enjoying being able to share his wisdom, but part of him still holding back because he knows what he must do.

It makes his betrayal so much worse for her because somewhere along the line, she started to actually enjoy talking with him and hearing what he had to say. She’d never tell anyone about their talks, especially afterwards, but it doesn’t change the fact that there are notebooks hidden away, filled with his stories and musings.

saw a cute pic and immediately started to redraw with them ( ended up spending way too much time on this I don’t know if I like the style I went with ) 🫠🩷

girlfriend: why don’t you take off that battle armor and slip into something a bit more…..comfortable

me: i am most comfortable when i am impervious to most physical forms of attack

fangs in your neck friday.

would u let me grow on u like moss or no

i think love is stored in nighttime conversations and “did you eat yet” and books left outside your door and “i waited to watch this with you” and splitting something in half to share and “im proud of you” and folded towels and “you can pick” and heads on shoulders and “you’re right, that was shitty. im sorry” and knocks on doors and “DINNER!” and stupid jokes and “hey i got this for you” and coffee made just right and… there are so many ways people say i love you silently every day over and over again if you only listen

halloween is trending again.

HERE WE GO AGAIN SPOOKY BITCHES

IT’S TIIIIIME

(in a Mariah Carey whistle-voice)

Awesome piece of animation art 🤯 Reels by alindraws

Hey, don't cry. A single thread in a tapestry, though its color brightly shines, can never see its purpose in the pattern of the grand design, ok?

how do i get the moon to notice me back