"They had not hanged Chenery, thank God,"

Some Chens. Strawhead.

Let us suppose that the "average" horse would have equal proportions of all these parts. The degree to which each part in this poll deviates from the "average" size (20% of total) will determine how large or small that part of our horse will be (i.e a horse with only 10% in Legs will have legs half the size of the average horse).

I will draw a picture of the horse we make!

Crying over Archie Kennedy rn.

Maximus.

First snow.

i've got a stupid cold + a need to inflict my suffering on others = whatever this is.

"Laurence watches with rapt attention as Tharkay slides his hands from his gloves, one after the other. And then Tharkay is leaning very close, startling Laurence into stillness, which is why he doesn't immediately retreat when a cool hand presses against his forehead. This close, the minute changes in Tharkay's countenance are clearly visible, and Laurence observes the subtle furrow of his brow, the slight purse of his lips, in a dreamlike haze. Tharkay's dark eyes shine a light hazel brown in the sunlight, and Laurence can't recall ever seeing them look so light, despite their frequent proximity; he can't fathom how he's never noticed their brilliance before.

So captivated is he by Tharkay's expression that Laurence only remembers to take a halting half step backwards when Tharkay's hand descends to cradle his cheek, flustered by Tharkay's nearness but still attempting in vain to conceal the warmth of his fever. Tharkay lets his hand drop to his side in compliance, yet his gaze remains concerned as he regards Laurence.

"You're quite warm, Will," Tharkay murmurs, his voice soft in the manner he typically reserves for animals. Laurence's resolve to hide his petty illness, to push through despite the chills and the persistent aching of his limbs, dissolves. His shoulders droop.

"I suppose," he replies slowly. "I may be suffering from a touch of fever."

A hint of a smile turns the corners of Tharkay's mouth upwards, and Laurence finds he can't look away. "I daresay you may be right."

His tone carries an intolerably fondness, and Laurence is a weak man; he submits to the hand on his back without complaint, and lets himself be guided inside."

OOPS is that a ficlet. how did that get there. sweats.

iskierka doodles

Sipho Dlamini.

>:)

Listening to this song while thinking about Laurence Granby Tharkay friendship is killing meeeee

Absolutely Stunning. Jaw-dropping.

i was explaining to @kosmickasper about the poor Granby reaction and all the things i've read so far warranting that, and Kasper was like, "I could see that on a shirt."

"poor Granby?"

"Poor Granby," Kasper gesturing to their shirt as if writing text, "sad face."

i had to slap the visual together...

My Chenery design looks so much like Adrien Agreste helpppp 😭😭

i was explaining to @kosmickasper about the poor Granby reaction and all the things i've read so far warranting that, and Kasper was like, "I could see that on a shirt."

"poor Granby?"

"Poor Granby," Kasper gesturing to their shirt as if writing text, "sad face."

i had to slap the visual together...

God there are so many Temeraire videos I Want to make

Listening to this song while thinking about Laurence Granby Tharkay friendship is killing meeeee

When I read a fanfic I like, the author becomes a mini celebrity to me. So when an author with a work I like kudos’ or comments on my own fanfic I just-

I don’t know which author needs to hear this right now but even if you never update your wip i would never regret reading it a time of joy is never wasted

Catherine Harcourt.

I’m closing the poll early and will be re-posting it since I’ve already started drawing characters while listening to homework.