Becoming Real
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wild magic:
Numair got to his feet and jerked her into his arms. “You little idiot,” he whispered, hugging her so tightly she squeaked.
“She was in labor and on her way home,” Daine told him, feeling mashed.
wolf-speaker:
Stiffly Daine got to her feet. “Some prank,” she muttered.
Without warning she was caught up in an extremely tight hug. “You have no idea how glad I am to see you, magelet,” Numair said, and put her down.
Daine wiped suddenly leaky eyes on a sleeve. “Maybe a little,” she replied, and grinned at him. “It’s mutual, you know.”
emperor mage:
Numair waited, one hand extended to her. Steeling herself, she reached again and placed her hand in his. Roughly he pulled her into an enveloping hug, arms encircling and lifting her off her feet. Nose buried in his shirt, she breathed his unique smell, one of spices, soap, and clean clothes. No one would think to copy that, she realized, and began to cry.
He murmured softly to her, arms wonderfully tight. When at last she stopped, he let her go and produced a handkerchief.
realm of the gods:
He turned. “You—you’re—alive. I thought…”
She staggered over to him. “I hurt too much to be dead.”
Dropping the staff, Numair swept her up in his arms; hers went around his neck. He stroked her back; Daine buried her fingers in his hair. Pulling away, she tried to get a proper look at him. Their eyes met for a breathless moment as heat surged through her body. Then his mouth was on hers, his breath warmly mingling with her own.
reasons to live: the book-by-book escalation of daine and numair’s “thank god you’re alive” hugs -
vex & trinket, someone stop me or I’ll draw too much vox machina fanart again :]
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“Besides feeding audiences a line of bull as to what the 1960s counterculture and the Baby Boomers were all about, there was another purpose to the Jenny and Forrest fauxmance of Forrest Gump–to serve as a heavy-handed, simpleminded morality and cautionary tale. There’s the message that if you always respect authority, never protest and hold the right kind of values–in other words, toe the line–you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams, and you’ll live a charmed existence. Everything will just fall into your lap like magic. Don’t toe the line, and you will wind up like Jenny–miserable, lonely and dead at a young age of a fatal venereal disease. All of this is another reason why I can’t stand Forrest Gump. It has all the pretensions of being an Oscar-worthy film and timeless cinematic masterpiece. But strip away the lush cinematography, inspired casting, great direction and amazing special effects and what do you really have? An insipid 1950s educational film, the type that used to be shown in classrooms teaching children how to be good, upstanding American citizens. All that was missing was the stilted narration and a title card saying, “The End.””
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It is rare that I encounter someone who ferociously hates Forrest Gump the exact same way I do, so when it happens…
(via wilwheaton)
I hate Forrest Gump so, so much, and felt totally vindicated when I first heard the song “Gump, the Magic Movie” from Forbidden Hollywood (with lines like “Gump, the Magic Movie, leaned to the right, and played in every cineplex in a land called male and white.”) I can thoroughly recomment listening to it.
(That film also put me off Tom Hanks for life, which is unfortunate but can’t be helped. I’m still okay with Gary Sinise and Robin Wright, though.) -
You can look down into the hole if you want. That’s the only thing. Gimme a minute. Leave me alone.
(via kobaltsoul)
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can everyone shut the fuck up now nobody cares that you think the cover is cringe or bad nobody fucking cares
(via bundibird)
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From the The Art and Making of Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves
(via bienchanter)
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NANCY DREW — SEASON 1 EPISODE 13, “THE WHISPER BOX”
#he was already perfect to her!! what the fuck!! (bethanyactually)
