G: What’s your least favorite book? Least favorite author?
Urgh. Um. Anne Rice, tbh. Stephanie Meyer also (an old work colleague lent me the first of her books, and I struggled through it, groaning and rolling my eyes the whole way.)
V: What do you listen to when you write?
I don’t, on the whole. I don’t listen to music as I write! I understand that this might be a bit odd? people have asked before. But I’m a muso IRL, and I have been trained to pay attention to music. It forces itself into the forefront of my brain rather than staying as background, it’s amazingly distracting!
pfft I missed the context for a few seconds and went “wait, when did Gimizh get a letter to hogwarts???” Aka what happens when you’re awake for 24 hours
Reads chapter 40 of Sansukh + sees this post = Instant OTP apparently ^^
omfg BOO
AHHHHH I LOVE THEM YESSSSS ❤
Merilin is PERFECTION ITSELF here, alasdgflahsdlaksjdhflsadfjakshdasjdhfa and SELGA’S HAIR HER FACE HER EVERYTHINGGGG you know Merilin is just WHOA about that amazing hair
I love the colours! Like Spring and Autumn! And the touch of light on both of them, and the looks on their faces…! Selga is all “HOW DARE SHE BE HOT DAMMIT I AM SO SCREWED” and Merilin all, “i could spend an Age of this world just kissing her” and oh
Booooooo thank you SO SO SO MUCH! They’re absolutely WONDERFUL – and so are you!! ❤ *hugs and hugs and huuuuuUUUGS*
Imagine your OT3 avidly defending their polyamorous relationship against polyphobic idiots. Person A is calmly trying to explain how it works, while person B tries to keep person C from punching said idiots in the face.
Dain: Wow, the stars are beautiful tonight!
Thira: Yes they are.
Dain: You know who else is beautiful?
Thira: *blushes furiously* who?
Dain: *sighs* My sweet battle-pig Mittens.
For peggaboo. Sorry I wasn’t around on your actual birthday. Hope you enjoy it even though it’s late ❤
–
You.
The Orc yelped and scrambled to a crooked-back attention.
“Yes, my lord- I mean your majesty- I mean your evilness-“
Silence.
The Orc yelped again and subsided, muttering frantically to itself.
Concealed within his helmet, Sauron rolled his eyes.
Find someone who knows how to bake, vermin.
The Orc gibbered.
“Bake vermin, Master? Most of us can char rats and such, not sure if any of ‘em can bake ‘em…”
No, you are the vermin. Find someone who can bake pastries.
The Orc froze.
“Er… pastries, your wickedness?”
Yes, pastries, you fool. Composed of flour and sugar and baked. Pastries.
“Forgive me for asking, but… why, your…” the Orc paused and struggled to come up with something it had not yet said. Sauron rolled his eyes so hard it was nearly painful.
It is no business of yours, mortal. Find a Man if you must. Anyone who can bake a cake.
“A cake, Sire?”
I am not a king, you imbecile. Just… ‘my lord’ will do, just find me a cake.
“Yes, Master, of course, Master.”
It hurried out the door, gibbering to itself. Sauron shut the door firmly behind it, leaning heavily on the wood. He took off his helmet and tossed it across the room, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
“I am completely and utterly surrounded by half-wits.” Then he paused and chortled to himself. “But I shall have cake on my name-day, and that is all that matters.”
Aw Yiss 