sparrowsarus

[sparrowsarus]

not “oh my god it’s just a tv show” as in you are not allowed to find genuine joy and form a true connection to fiction, but “oh my god it’s just a tv show” as in, if it legitimately stresses you out and impacts your mood when things don’t happen exactly the way you want them to, and it causes you to lash out at other - real - people, maybe you need to take a massive step back.

[sparrowsarus]

I get why people don't read smut but the amount of pwp I've finished reading and thought 'this author understands these characters better than the majority of the fandom' is INSANE

#For me a good pwp is a character study with extra fluids

[sparrowsarus]

[2934/11080] Dead sea sparrow - Passer moabiticus

Order: Passeriformes Suborder: Passeri Superfamily: Passeroidea Family: Passeridae (true sparrows)

Photo credit: Yoav Perlman via Macaulay Library

#birds

[sparrowsarus]

Rufous

#birds

[sparrowsarus]

Red river hog

#piggies #animals

[sparrowsarus]

“I’m ok with X topic being written abt as long as the narrative doesn’t condone it” u need 2 b spoonfed the conclusion that bad stuff is bad? u can’t come 2 it on ur own? are u serious.

[sparrowsarus]

You don’t say.

[sparrowsarus]

Reblog this is you are a dragon, you’d love to date a dragon, or if you just think dragons are really cool.

[sparrowsarus]

that’s a whole man.

#kiwis #birds

[sparrowsarus]

#not described

[sparrowsarus]

True and sincere answer to all of the people who ask, "I have just seen X animal, what does this mean?":

Rejoice, my friend, for this is a most auspicious sign! You have received one of the greatest blessings known to human kind: you live in a world full of creatures! Take comfort and enjoy this divine blessing.

[sparrowsarus]

sorry I liked your post a second after you posted it I don’t have a life

[sparrowsarus]

worst feeling ever is when i agree with 99% of a post but then there's that 1% that makes me want to set fire to op's blog

[sparrowsarus]

back on my walter/una bullshit again, i fear

#No‚ but listen #the idea of it being Ken Ford dying‚ leaving Rilla to be the symbol that Una is meant to be #Rilla: the princess‚ the high school cheerleader #Rilla who is so clearly written to get her Happily Ever After #Rilla who had hope when all Una had was a tucked away dream #Rilla is practically engaged in RoI (Or else Ken wouldn't have the right to ask her not to kiss anyone else) #And dreamy sacrificial Walter not...getting to do that #Having to face the horrors of what he endured and what he inflicted on other people #Fascinating concept from Gogandmagog

[sparrowsarus]

I dont think its real

#no #but to be fair to them I have always hated being read to #I can read faster than you can talk #polls

[sparrowsarus]

Someone should make a Silmarillion rock opera it's not illegal for me to watch.

#silmarillion #Tolkien #I know about the Russian one but y'know

[sparrowsarus]

Prompt: last song you saved to Liked Songs that isn't the Mountain Goats and make it about the ladies/a lady.

Ended up hitting shuffle on the liked songs because the top five non-mountain goats were already attached to either my or your fic lmao BUT:

(With sincere apologies to Teyla)

She’s had years of diplomatic experience, working all around the world, and still, none of it had prepared Elizabeth for meeting Teyla.

She’s alien, yet somehow immensely familiar, her mannerisms and her culture shaped by horrors the likes of which Elizabeth can scarcely imagine. She recalls visiting war-torn lands, seeing the little sparks of humanity as people tried to eke out an existence among the ashes. For Teyla, for the Athosians, this is simply life as they know it.

Elizabeth visits Teyla in her room, a little while after she’s settled into the city, and she’s struck by the way Teyla has already made the space her own, with her people’s decor draped across the Ancient architecture.

The Ancients, the city, were what Elizabeth had expected, coming here: it was something of a shock to learn the first civilization they encountered were trading nomads who lived in small huts. She remembers a accompanying a diplomatic excursion to a tribe deep in the jungle, one of her first assignments with the UN, remembers how the ambassador she was interpreting for had called the people “savages” because of how they lived.

“This reminds me of a weaving style from a small group of people on Earth,” Elizabeth says, taking hold of a blanket that Teyla’s draped over the bed. “Interesting that it might’ve developed independently in two separate cultures.”

Teyla smiles—the real one, the warm one, because they’ve talked enough that Teyla understands Elizabeth’s interest, and she responds to it in kind.

“It was a gift from one of our trading partners,” she explains, crossing the room to run a hand over the cloth. Elizabeth breathes in the scent of her, spicy like incense layered over the bracing aroma of homemade soap. “Intended for queens.” Teyla smiles sheepishly. “Though I am not one, they, well…insisted.”

Teyla may not be a queen in her own people’s words, but Elizabeth has met more than one, and she knows what she sees when she looks at her.

Before Elizabeth leaves the room, Teyla pulls her in, touches their foreheads together so they’re breathing each other’s air for a long, warm moment. Elizabeth feels Teyla’s hands firm on her shoulders and thinks to herself, even if I could, I don’t think I’ll go back.

#SGA #hello???