#mileecosgrove

[ladyfantasty]

I am so bummed that Milee Cosgrove deleted her blog. Her writing was beautiful and it really made my day when I saw that she had written something or updated. This fandom can really be full of shit heads some times. I just hope that wherever she is, she's doing well.

#mileecosgrove #fandomcrit #dragon age

[destinyapostasy]

Medication talk under the cut

That's real shitty. I'm super sorry to hear that. :(

@umabbas replied to your post “Due to some poor planning on my part, it looks like I’m going to be...”

<3

@mileecosgrove replied to your post “Due to some poor planning on my part, it looks like I’m going to be...”

Oh that is the worst. Is there any way you could call the doctor and get enough to tide you over until the visit? I had to do that a few times.

@aliveria replied to your post “Due to some poor planning on my part, it looks like I’m going to be...”

that sucks i'm sorry :(

thank you so much guys (and everyone else that messaged me) ;~; I’ve put in an automated request to my pharmacy to request the refill, otherwise I’m going to call in and see if I can push up my appointment and get this done faster. 

#empresstress13 #umabbas #mileecosgrove #aliveria #medication cw #depression cw #sometimes its just a matter of seeing which is worse #my anxiety or my symptoms #-__-;

[mindtrove]

2 & 13 for Ramia!

Thank you @milee-cosgrove

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness? 

Aside from like physical features? Cuz everyone kinda has those but on a bigger scale I think she feels very insecure in her ability to keep people around.

Ramia comes off as very confident or at least naively oblivious to things around her. But in her head she over analyses things like crazy. Due to the amount of loss in her life (growing up without a father, men in the clan briefly trying to get close just to get her mother when she was a child, surviving the clan’s death, growing attached to Solas and then him leaving). She has a habit of getting attached to people very quickly, because she has the mental mindset that “oh no people always come and go so I have to enjoy and get as much out of this before they abandon me like always”.

Which is a stark contrast to her mother who keeps pushing people away for those same reasons.

So yeah, very insecure in her worth as a friend or lover but she plays it off well and it can be hard for people to notice. But if people do notice you can see how something like that could be easily taken advantage of :/

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker? 

Ramia suffers frequently from nightmares, due to again surviving the clan’s massacre. So she wakes up frequently during the nightm which she tackles with tea, runes and going to bed early to make up for time lost when she wakes from them. She has an easier time however if she’s sleeping next to someone but it’s not always the case.

She also sleeps on her belly, it’s her go to position so people have to work around that if they want to sleep next to her lol  and she has a habit of waking up in a startled way which can make people jump.

As for the last question she’s neither, but if I had to choose she would be a sleep walker lol

Get to know my character!

#ramia lavellan headcanons #thanks you again Milee #:P #mileecosgrove

[floranna2]

Hmm. 16, 27, 44, and 50!

For this meme here:

16. Are their any popular ships in your fandom which you dislike?

Solavellan, Cullen/Inquisitor, fenhawke, Alistair/Warden… You can see my dilemma.

27. What do you hate more: Coming up with titles or writing summaries?

I hate both! But summaries just a bit more.

44. What ship do you feel needs more attention?

Solas/Trevelyan, Abelas/Trevelyan, Solas/Adaar, f!warden/Morrigan…

50. How did you get into reading and/or writing fanfiction? 

Can’t even remember, but it was Harry Potter fandom in finnish. (back then my english wasn’t good, as I was in junior high…)

#answers #own post #mileecosgrove

[teklacat]

PASS THE HAPPY ALONG! :) When you get this, reply with five things that make you happy.

1. My new nightgown. It’s so warm, cozy and soft. 

2. My family: my son and my 2 kitties.

3. The fan art I commissioned from @fleschybits for my birthday and Christmas. It should be done soon and the WIPs have me super excited!

4. My job being stable, more physically active and having the opportunity to work more hours. 

5. 2016 almost being over (2 more hours!). I know the calendar is a societal construct but I’m still happy to put an awful year behind us. 

#tekla replies #asks #thanks milee! #mileecosgrove

[minionripley]

PASS THE HAPPY ALONG! :) When you get this, reply with five things that make you happy.

Aww, thank you! Um, five things...

1. That fresh laundry smell.

2. The sound of rain.

3. Getting a nice comment on a work.

4. Having a steady income. (Oh, I wish... (；´∀｀) )

5. Sleeeeeeep.

#reply #mileecosgrove

[cedarmoons]

Lilac - Thane x Shep

Lilac: gentle thief

It is a slow fall. 

She finds him engaging, full of dry wit that makes her laugh until she is breathless. Their talks start out in Life Support, but soon they settle for more. When the nightmares keep her awake — she dreams of the oppressive silence of space, punctured by the hiss of leaking oxygen — she finds him, for drell require less sleep than humans, and he has never turned down a chance to talk with her.

Soon enough, it becomes a habit.

They spend nights in the kitchen, where she makes him chai and discovers that he has a sweet tooth — she makes her chai with cinnamon, brown sugar, and extra honey, and he can’t get enough of it. He returns the favor a few days later, when a refueling stop on the Citadel leads to him discovering a hanar grocer.

That night, she tries an oddly-colored fish glazed in some foreign sauce, a stew with thick golden broth and chunks of vegetables, and a roll made of some wheat-like grain from Rakhana. It’s pretty much a feast, and she splits it with Thane. “I didn’t know you could cook,” she tells him.

Thane smiles, but there is a mournful tilt to it. “I cannot,” he tells her, “but this is one instance where perfect recollection has its advantages.”

Other nights they pass in the Starboard Observation Deck, long after Samara has retired. Sometimes he meditates, and she folds herself into lotus position and prays to Lord Ganesha, wordlessly. She thinks of the Collectors, and the Reapers, and she whispers —O, Lord Ganesha of the curved trunk and massive body, the one whose splendor is equal to millions of Suns, please bless me so that I do not face any obstacles in my endeavors.  

Once, when she asks, he tells her how the drell discovered fire. “Amonkira,” he says, staring out into the stars. She leans against him, crossing her arms, listening to the rough lilt of his voice. “There was a brilliant creature, the tueri-lar, whose tail was made of fire. It was an elusive animal, seen once in a lifetime before disappearing. Rakhana’s moons were enough to light the nights, but the drell had no way of warming their homes, their children. They prayed to Amonkira, who thought it a worthy challenge.

“It took him thirteen weeks to find the tueri-lar, yet when he asked it to give up its tail, it refused. ‘What do you want in exchange?’ he asked. ‘A mate,’ said the tueri-lar. ‘For I am a lonely being, and long for companionship.’ Amonkira agreed; he would provide the creature a mate, and it would give him its tail. Yet after the tueri-lar disappeared, he was for the first time uncertain how to proceed, for he did not have the power to create.”

“What did he do?” she asks, softly. The deck’s lights aren’t on, so they only have the stars to illuminate the room. His scales have a bluish tint to them, and the red is more purple in the darkness.

“He went to Arashu, and begged her aid. She is the Mother of All, and the source of all creation. But he had forgotten that, years ago, he had hunted and killed her favorite creation, the ralafir. She decreed that, if she were to make a companion for the tueri-lar, Amonkira would have to make amends for his trespass against her.”

She listens to the rasp of his voice and the hum of the Normandy, and feels her eyes grow heavy. She doesn’t know when she falls asleep, but when she wakes up, she is in her own bed, alone.

Thane is not in Life Support, but there is a bag of strange leaves. These are turian khyvia leaves, says the note attached. On the back are instructions. His handwriting is looping, graceful. They have natural sedative properties, enough to aid you in sleep. As much as I enjoy our talks, it is my understanding that humans cannot function well on four hours of sleep.

She scoffs, but she makes the tea that night. It’s got a funny aftertaste, but when she curls up in her warmest pajamas and gets comfortable, it’s only a matter of minutes — not hours — to fall asleep.

When she wakes up, Chuck is running on his exercise wheel, and the glow from her empty fishtank casts blue across her redecorated room. She sits up, breathing in the crisp air, blinking rapidly. When she checks her watch, it’s seven hundred hours, the beginning of the morning cycle.

She hadn’t had a nightmare.

How did he know?

She swings her legs over the side of the bed, fingers curling into the fluff of the duvet, and stares at the patterned rug underneath her feet. The metal floor of her cabin was too cold to walk on barefoot, and she always took off her shoes before entering her room. 

“EDI?” Her voice shakes. She clears her throat. “Where is Thane right now?”

“Sere Krios is in Life Support. Mr. Moreau would like to inform you that we will arrive at Tuchanka in two hours. Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you, EDI.”

“Logging you out, Shepard.”

She bundles up and walks to the Starboard Observation Deck. Miranda is already up and running, albeit with a cup of coffee in her hand, but all she does upon seeing her in her snowman pajamas is to arch a perfect eyebrow and smile. “Cute pajamas, Commander,” she compliments as they pass each other. It even sounds genuine.

“Thanks, Miri,” she says. Miranda’s brow arches higher at the nickname, and uncertainty flickers over her expression, but she only nods again, disappearing into her office.

Thane is not at his usual place at the desk, but sitting cross-legged on the floor, utterly still. She steps into the room, wincing reflexively at the unexpected sound of the doors closing behind her. After a moment, Thane gets to his feet and turns to her. “Good morning,” he says.

“How did you know?” she asks, voice near a whisper. “About my nightmares?”

He holds out a hand, gesturing to the table, and she takes her usual spot across from him. “I had my suspicions. I — have had experience in such matters. Not personally, but —” his gaze goes distant, focused on something she cannot see. “Screams in the air, third time this week. The beat of his heart pounds against his ribs. Smells of khyvia and la’firal burn my nostrils. ‘Where were you?’ he shouts, tiny fists beating my chest. ‘Where were you?’”

He reorients himself with a hard breath, followed by a rasping cough into his closed fist. “Apologies,” he says. “Solipsism is difficult to control. A… person close to me had consistent nightmares after something terrible happened to him. Khyvia tea was the only thing that allowed him a restful sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, sincerely. “How is he doing now?”

Thane looks away. “I do not know. But I pray for his welfare every day.”

“Thane.” When he looks at her, she smiles, no longer taken aback by the directness of his gaze. “Thank you,” she says, words heavy with her sincerity and hidden meaning. “I feel more refreshed right now than I have since I — woke up.” She prefers that, woke up, over resurrected. It seems less strange that way.

He tilts his head in acknowledgement. “I am glad I could help.”

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, though,” she threatens, and when he lifts an eyeridge, she grins. “You still have to try some of my terrible cooking. And you need to finish telling me how Amonkira got Arashu’s help.”

He leans forward, hands clasped. “I did,” he says, eyes gleaming. “But you fell asleep. Clearly my storytelling skills have atrophied greatly.”

“No, that’s not it. I just need to make it up to you, somehow,” she replies, shrugging one shoulder. “I know just the thing. You could come with me to Tuchanka to see what’s going on with Grunt, and — my real selling point — I’ll let you take some of my kills. With only minimum complaining.”

He laughs, his prior melancholy dispelled, and her heart flips at the sound. “Nothing would please me more,” he says, and she smiles, suddenly aware of the strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Nervousness. Butterflies. 

Oh, no.

#mileecosgrove #shrios #fic #filled prompt #[tosses this on the blog and runs]

[knightenchanteur]

mileecosgrove replied to your post:Doesn’t matter that we’ve been saving, that I...

Oh my goodness I thought I was the only one who felt this way. Checking my balances always freaks me out, too.

Definitely not! ..I wanna say ‘high five’, but it seems odd to be like !! WE BOTH GET UPSET OVER THIS YAY! so - yay for not being alone and mutual ugh on bank stuff!

#mileecosgrove #replies #adulting is tiring =S

[raynnromantica]

23 :)

“Vhenan, will you honor me with this dance?”

Solas outstretched his hand to Nira as she sat in front of him. That familiar smirk played on his lips as he asked, knowing Nira would never say no to a dance. Though she was surprised; here, in front of everyone? He was normally so private with their relationship; it must be the alcohol that he’d been drinking steadily all night.

Still, Nira took his hand and stood, the hem of her long dress skirting across the floor as he lead her to the very center. They passed their friends in fine clothes, strangers with raised eyebrows, and family with fond smiles on their faces.

Placing his hand on her hip, Solas brought her close and began to slow dance with the piano, keeping perfect tempo. The song that played was familiar; she’d heard it many times before: it was their song. It was what was playing when she said she loved him for the first time; when they danced for the first time; when he told her he would never let her go again.

They spun along the dance floor, in their own world. His eyes held her own steadily. He pressed his forehead to hers, letting themselves be carried away in the song.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispered, only for her to hear.

The way you say “I love you”

#I couldn't stop smiling while writing this #this is so sweet my teeth hurt #thanks for the prompt milee! <3 #mileecosgrove #the way you say I love you #writing prompt #nira lavellan #solas x lavellan #solavellan

[teklacat]

I honestly don’t remember why I followed you... because I’ve been following you for so long. You’re the sweetest and you post so much amazing stuff and I’m so privileged to e-know you.

Awww. Thank you. Don’t make me cry!

#tekla replies #mileecosgrove

[minionripley]

mileecosgrove replied to your post “Oh, look, it’s time for me to keep ignoring canon harder than ever.”

Ughhhhh canon is overrated

Canon apparently comes with a heaping dose of bi/panphobia, closed-mindedness, and little to no character development. Great.

mindtrove replied to your post “Oh, look, it’s time for me to keep ignoring canon harder than ever.”

What a load of bullshit (pardon me)

Yup.

#mileecosgrove #mindtrove #reply #why can't they just admit they ran out of dev time for an already-last minute romance #instead of digging themselves deeper and deeper #ugh

[sansbanshees]

“Soft,” “Afraid,” and “Dark”, please. :)

Everything soft in her is gone, as her love is gone, lost to the abyss, and it is that sacrifice that brought her to this place, to this man who will see the very world she lost so much to save burn for the sake of duty to a people long gone.

As if she has a great deal in common with the puzzle boxes requisitioned to boost morale, something intriguing to solve in the hours that don’t find them actively chasing the plots of an ancient darkspawn magister with aspirations of godhood.

The only question she cares to ask anymore is the same one she is afraid to ask for fear of what his answer will be.

#holy run on sentences batman #fic meme #asked and answered #mileecosgrove