is spelunking a thing

everything Solas says about the subject of the Blight in DA:I
everything Solas says about the subject of the Blight in DA:I

(For reference, here is what Solas has to say about the Blight, darkspawn and the Grey Wardens, all together.)

  • Solas: Your Order… the Grey Wardens…
  • Blackwall: What about them?
  • Solas: The Wardens see themselves as the world’s defense against the Blight, do they not?
  • Blackwall: Yes… why do you sound so skeptical? Doesn’t everyone know this?
  • Solas: When an Archdemon rises, they slay it. What will they do when all the Archdemons are slain?
  • Blackwall: Retire?
  • Solas: Without Archdemons, there can be no Blights. Is that the reasoning?
  • Blackwall: Right. Where are you going with this?
  • Solas: Nowhere. I hope they are correct.

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Black Girl, NYC

Greetings people. I identify as a Black female who was born and raised in NYC. I am slowly progressing through my study of education and history in college. Other then that, I spend (probably) an unhealthy amount of time reading and writing sci fi and fantasy. But by high school, I got sick and tired of the same story featuring blonds and brunettes saving the day with their straight, lean male heroes so I turned to my librarian seeking something new. She pointed to Octavia Butler and the rest was history. I’ve been seeking diversity in media ever since.

Family life and Culture

I grew as the middle child of six siblings with my single mother and grandparents. Yes, my working-class household fits the stereotype. We even have an absent father *sighs* But, hey shit happens. And with the biological father turns out not to be the best father figure, shit had to go right out the door. Yup. But make no mistake that this is a norm. Most households on my block do have both parents involved in their children’s lives. Our circumstances called for us to have one. That’s all.

The house was full, loud and rambunctious. We made up a good portion of the children on the block (unsurprising) and basically ran it. There’s a whole novel that could be fleshed out of my childhood if I wanted to. Our neighborhood is very tight knit. Next door neighbors were treated like Aunts and Uncles. When summer came around, we were sometimes divided into groups as the parents who were off from work overlooked us while braiding our heads. Blackouts became an all night bbq and sleepover on each other’s porches. Crooklyn by Spike Lee was a good representation of what it was like in fact. Somewhat. Minus the brownstones, plus a couple more fights (lol).

My grandma was a nurse who’s pretty big on us knowing our family history. She made sure to talk a lot about our Gullah Geechee roots. We also had some Dominican culture influence since her closest friend and our Madrina was, well, Dominican. But she is fairly strict on gender norms and how my sisters and I should act especially with brothers. She antagonized me the most growing up because I continued to ignore this. We don’t get along but i can’t say i don’t get why she’s the way she is. She has a pretty dark past. My mother, a latchkey kid of the finest stock, is more laid back and gives all of us free range to make our own mistakes. Most times. Other times, she’d rather lecture us. Depends on our crime.

I don’t know what my grandpa used to do. He retired waaaaay before my grandmother. I also don’t know much about his culture. He’s 1st gen Jamaican who fully assimilated into American culture. Well, beside his food choices. Now, he gambles and goes to church. When I was younger, he used to teach us how to gamble too. And how to cheat and not get caught. We got a lot of free fast food while he taught us. He has gotten more frugal the older he got. And more isolated.

Dating and Relationships.

I don’t date. I have no interest. Well, no, that’s not exactly true. I’ve considered it but I rather have not seek out anything outside of platonic right now. I have a tight knit circle of friends and several other groups of friends I associate with depending on the activity. I’m realizing it seems like I’m using the term “friends” loosely but I swear I’m not. I’m a virgin and I feel nothing about being one until someone goes “*gasp* You’re a virgin really?” and then I end up on high defense saying “So?” Believe or not, that messed with me a lot.

My love life and lack of interest in having one has always been a struggle. In middle school, the group of friends I hung with were becoming more infatuated with love and sex. Yes, middle school, fifth through eighth grade, ages nine to thirteen. But, when they would talked about who’s hot or not, they would look at me funny when I didn’t join in the discussion. Instead of explaining myself, I simply copied other’s reactions and gushed along with them. This instinct followed me through High school til stopped out of annoyance. I became a listener and adviser in their relationships because I really do love stories in many shapes and forms. And I would never turn down hearing a story.


My primary language is English and AAVE. I’ve been living in a neighborhood filled with Blacks and Latinx. Most of my friends are Black and Lantinx. I didn’t meet a white person my age until college. Okay that’s a partial lie. I’ve been in a summer camp that was made up of predominantly white children. But as the only black kid in my age range, I was sorta uncomfortable. I never made lasting friends there. After High School, I spent a year abroad in Tena, Ecuador where I learned Spanish and Kichwa. I still suck at both languages.


Lots of my clothes when I was younger were borrowed or hand-me-downs. Half of them still are. It’s like thrift shopping without the hiked prices thanks to its popularity by rich white people (Thanks rich white people!) All my siblings’ taste varies. In my case, I’m fond of combining loose and tight clothing (tight jeans and a loose sweater/ baggy jeans and a tight top). No makeup. Silver accessories.

I used to have a short bob cut permed. I hated it. But I rather a perm then getting my hair straightened with a hot comb because the back of my neck and big ears would always get burned. It wasn’t until I made a friend with a natural afro that I realized my natural hair was even an option.


Lol I was a nerd with bad grades.


My family practices Santeria, which has historical roots in both Catholicism and Yoruba thanks to slavery (Yay slavery!). However, because the religion is not fully accepted or well-known, I tend to say I’m simply Catholic if asked. Apparently, a Black Catholic is hard to believe. It is assumed all Black folks are Baptists or some branch of Christianity. I have no idea where that stereotype came from. But I can give some guess. (*cough cough* Tyler Perry….).  

As I stated before, I love scifi and fantasy. I especially love urban fantasy involving witches. I blame this love on Practical Magic and Eve’s Bayou, my childhood faves. It’s because of this love that I wish to see more stories with witches of color. And no, I don’t mean that one evil/mysterious southern/Caribbean Voodoo/Hoodoo witch hollywood loves to portray so much. That always plays into the “Black is evil” trope. Give me some damn variety!

I would squeal so hard if the mythology involved in a story isn’t even Eurocentric. I’m not joking. This is serious. When my religion was simply hinted at in the Raven Boys series (It was also a great way of making even more obvious that the character was definitely not white.) and Kenya Wright’s Habitat series, I squealed. All the authors did was write the names of some of the Orishas and I couldn’t help but put my phone down for a moment and inwardly scream with glee. That being said, if a writer does decide to use afrocentric or any religion involving “witchcraft” as a basis, I would personally ask that they make sure is is not a closed religion.

Santeria is, in fact, a closed religion. And while I don’t mind mentions of it in fantasy and even a main character stating they practice it, do not go any further than that. Don’t even research the practices within the religion other than what is public knowledge (And if you don’t have any public knowledge, just ask) Respect that there’s a limit. Anything further spelunking  is consider rude, disgusting, disrespectful and dangerous. There’s things that I don’t even know because I haven’t been properly initiated. And the internet has a lot of these practices exposed when it shouldn’t be so please don’t look into it. Please.


Most of the cooking in the house has been done by my grandmother. Because of her various relationships, our food has always been a mixture of Black American, Gullah, Lantinx and Caribbean influences. It is so good. So, so good!

The only thing I don’t eat of hers is her seafood gumbo because I don’t like shellfish. One of my sisters said I should have my “black card” taken for my distaste. I said she could take it if she can name more black movies than me. She still can’t take it. My other sister wishes we could switch places because she loves crab but is allergic. The crazy girl actually sends her husband to buy some benadryl so she can eat some if we ever have some on the table. Smh. Siblings.  


My family on both sides are quite fond of reunions. On my grandpa’s side, the family uses Fourth of July and Christmas to get together. On my grandma’s side, they tend to host annual summer reunion and send out RSVP invitations complete with schedules of the whole two to three day event. I didn’t mention this under my family life, but both sides of my family are boujee to different degrees. Lots of black sorors and frats members on both sides. I can’t believe that slipped my mind typing.

I’m a little iffy with Christmas. It’s more of a holiday for the older generation and our niece and nephews. The younger generation, however, don’t particularly care for the holiday. For some of us, it’s because it’s not really Jesus’s Birthday and Santa was whitewashed. For others, it’s because we don’t care to feed into the corporate holiday. For most of us, it’s a combination of the two. But we do love getting together when we can. My older sister and I have conspired to celebrate kwanzaa instead for the past two years. So far, it hasn’t grasped the interest of anyone else in the family.


  • Being nerds from a young age, my siblings and I have been called “Oreos” or“Not really black” by kids in school on more than one occasion. We shut them down by fighting. Probably not the best strategy but it was best one I could think of in middle school and below. Made it easier to go back to reading my manga.

  • I got compared to my sisters a lot. It was the absolutely most annoying thing ever. And a major source of my insecurities growing older.

  • Need I address colorism? My highschool was filled with it. #TeamLight v #TeamDark. I was on neither team, because in the region I live, skin color was a pretty long spectrum. I fell in the between. Who came up with this?

  • I’ll admit it. I hate my own tears. They make me feel weak. Which isn’t true…I know. But, it is a mentality I always had. I have depression and PTSD. This isn’t really a secret. I tell people if I’m asked. But have you ever had someone look at you and say, “Really? You don’t seem like the type.” ……

  • I am a black female. I’ve been labelled “Strong” and “Independent” the older I got. By my mother. By my siblings. By my peers. And I get those labels. Even from friends. I loved those labels. I call myself by those labels. I mean, who doesn’t want to be seen as strong and independent? Those are positive affirmations, right? I think they would be. If that wasn’t all the positive labels we could get. Somehow, society has decided we are beings that are incapable of being multifaceted. I was indirectly taught to hate my own tears because black girls don’t cry. You can’t cry and be strong. What a terrible mantra fed to black girl at a young age. So, instead you tell everyone “It’s fine.”

I told my therapist it was fine. Until she told me straight up it was not fine. And it was okay to cry. I don’t like to cry. But I still (involuntarily) did it.

Things I’d like to see less of/Things I’d like to see more of:

  • I’m sick and tired of seeing black and latinx folks being portrayed as only fantasy gangs members. We are not only gang members. That’s a terrible popular myth the media put out there and I hate it even more so when it’s portrayed in SFF genre..

  • I’m tired of having one black person in a novel being described as having skin the color of “midnight.” And he’s (it’s always a he) not even that important to the story

  • I hate how every time someone decides to add a person of color, they have to be ambiguous brown. I’m not saying ambiguously brown don’t exist and don’t need representation but is it really that had for a dark brown skin person to play a major role in a story that’s not about slavery? Speaking of which….

  • Why we always gotta be slaves? Or better yet….

  • Why don’t we exist at all in High fantasy stories? Urban fantasy? Brooklyn wasn’t always the gentrified white town it is now. Still isn’t. How are you erasing people of color from NYC??? We make up way too much of the population to be completely erased

  • Stop racial coding other creatures to surround your white human characters. Especially as the bad guys. That’s just shitty writing. Step up your game!

  • I love Black love

  • I love Gay love. I wish more would follow moonlight’s example and show poc are gay too and gay doesn’t always equal to stereotypical femininity.

  • I love interracial love HOWEVER, can we pair people of color with other people of color as well? I’m starting to hate seeing it always a white person paired with a Poc. Variety damnit!

  • Friendships between boys and girls that don’t transform into love.

  • Friendships between girls that didn’t start out as a rivalry.

  • Different body types besides the skinny and tall. Make a main character that’s fat for once. It’s not a problem.

  • Magical characters of color that aren’t “Noble Savages” or “Wise Monks” that used their magic for personal gain for once instead of waiting for the white hero to come.

  • Nerdy black characters who aren’t 100% competent and cries. One that isn’t in a five token band that always gonna be compare to the white main character. Make the nerd the main character!

That’s all I can think of at the top of my head. But my list really does go on. 

Read more POC Profiles here or submit your own.

My boyfriend has more money than I do and has the privilege of never having to check his bank account (he doesn’t even check on his pay day to see if he got paid, which is the first thing I do). So, because I was transferring him money often for dinner or whatever I was using basic descriptions like “food” or “repayment” but since he doesn’t check his bank account I’ve started making a game of it.

I have started making the descriptions things like “guilty of sin” “descent into hell”, “spelunking fund”, “lesbian pirate school” and just any random thought that comes into my head.

I’ve been doing it for weeks now and he hasn’t noticed any weird comments on his bank statement and I’m just kind of curious as to how long this can go on.

Also, I’m running out of ideas!

anonymous asked:

A JayTim prompt where young abandoned/lonely!Tim stumbles across a new entrance to the Bat cave when spelunking (with or without the correct gear- cue later protective!Jason freakout) but never tells anyone even when he is Stray. ...he might have used it to snag some of Alfred's or Jason's cooking though.

Hi Nonnie! Thanks so much for sending the request in, I hope you like it :) You know I love Stray AUs. I wanted to add more but it was already longer than my usual request fills, whoops 0.0


His parents think it’s strange that he doesn’t hang out with very many of the kids his age. His therapist tells them that it’s normal for children in their early teens to feel alienated from their peers. Tim thinks that adults should have more important things to worry about than his social life…or lack thereof.

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I think I found something horrible in a mine in the mountains of Pennsylvania, and whatever it is, it has my friend.

It’s hard to tell where to begin, so I’ll just begin with me, and my friend. We’re spelunkers. I don’t know if you could call us ‘professional’ spelunkers, but we’ve done some of the pretty insane things you see on National Geographic or Discovery or whatever. Y'know, like squeezing through caves hundreds of meters down in the darkness, or doing cave diving, where you put on scuba gear and go through flooded and underwater caves. I’ve seen some pretty breathtaking things, but nothing like what I’ve come to tell you about now.

I’m getting ahead of myself. I’m Collin, and my partner is Craig. We’re just twenty-somethings with crappy jobs who are always looking for a new 'fix’, a new place to discover. I think we were drawn to caves because, unlike mountains, nobody yet knows what’s the biggest challenge, or what’s the best cave. We all know about Carlsbad or Mulu, but unlike Everest or K2, we don’t know if Carlsbad is one of the biggest caves. You never know when you’re going to stumble onto the mega-Everest of caving, way deep down. That excitement sticks with you on every expedition, I promise, and it’s what keeps us coming back as often as we can. So, when Craig got a tip that some old Appalachian mines might lead to some insanely deep and undiscovered natural caverns, we knew we had to give it a shot. The caving community is very helpful, and a lot of people had been out there trying out other caves. Craig tracked down a mining ledger for a company that had been used in the 1890s. It detailed employees, locations, and yields, but what interested us what one shaft that had been closed due to 'mysterious circumstances’. Seriously, it said that shit on the paper. It’s in a town called Coalsborough, Pennsylvania, and I’m still in that shithole now, working with whatever passes for internet. All we knew going in is that nobody else reported ever caving there. We were excited to get the chance to be the first people down there in 120 years.

We shipped our gear ahead of us, flew out, rented a car then head out. It was dark, and chilly. A blanket of fog lay thick on the roads, so we couldn’t see more than fifty feet in front of us. Craig drove. I watched the streetlamps and headlights pass by like yellow ghosts in the mist. I’m not easily spooked, but as we slowed off the paved roads and got on the backwood dirt roads through the mountains, with black trees towering above us, I have to admit I felt a shiver go up my spine.

We go to Coalsborough sometime in the middle of the night. It was everything you’d expect from an Appalachian mining town that hadn’t had a mine for over a century. Only a few hundred surly people. We unpacked our things and headed to the only motel in town, a flickering 'vacant’ neon sign the only thing that guided us.

A frumpy woman managed the counter, looking half-dead herself. She didn’t greet us when we came in the door - just stared, with drooping eyes.

“We need a room,” Craig said helpfully.

“What for?” She asked roughly, even as she got a key from the (full) rack behind her.

“'Cause we want to sleep, lady,” I replied. Her face didn’t even register my smarm - which wiped the shit-eating grin off of mine. “We’re here to survey the mineshaft in town. It’d actually be great if you could give us directions to it?”

She looked between the two of us, as if thinking. “No,” she finally replied. “We teach our boys t'stay away from there. For good reason. Ain’t nobody’s gone down there that’s come back. Ain’t none. Two city-slickers don’t belong here. I’ll give you a room for free tonight, if you promise to high-tail it first light.”

Craig and I exchanged a look. “Listen, lady…” he began, leaning on the counter, but she cut him short.

“No, listen to me, fancy-pants. Every time a fellow goes down there, they don’t come back… and when they don’t, we hear this… howling.” She looked out the window. The light outside only illuminated a wall of fog, pressing up against the glass, as if it were listening to us. “Howling in them hills,” she whispered. “Howling, for hours. Days. Like the Devil'imself is torturin’ souls down there. I tell you what, there’s something down there. Something t'ain’t meant to be found.”

Craig put down his pack. Bless that mine, he has a way with words. Or lies. Whichever. “We’ll leave in the morning, Mrs…?” He flashed a charming smile. The ass.

“Floyd,” she said flatly. His charm was lost on her, but she gave us a key, and we even paid her for the room, despite her offer. Nobody can accuse us of being dishonest.

We flopped down onto the shitty retro mattresses from the 40s. “What’re we gonna do?” I asked, half to myself, half to Craig.

“We’re going in anyway,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’m not gonna let hillbilly superstition keep me out. We already spent hundreds on the trip out here, man! Why wouldn’t we go in?”

I shrugged, looking at the yellowed ceiling and the feebly rotating ceiling fan. “Howling in the hills, I guess.”

Craig rolled onto his side. “C'mon, man, you didn’t buy Mrs. Loyd’s spiel, did you? That mine’s been closed for over a hundred years. Of course there are gonna be some ghost stories, but that’s just all the more reason to check it out. See what’s making the noises.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed. I didn’t mention the disappearances she had mentioned. Maybe she had made it up, maybe not. I didn’t want to believe her, but I felt something was wrong. Craig did not share my concerns. Maybe it was the fog, or the sad look she gave us when he promised we wouldn’t go. I think she knew he was lying. I think she knew we wouldn’t listen to her. I think, maybe we should have.

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I made myself an audio file of every possible conversation option with Solas in Trespasser (without the music in the background). It was too long for tumblr so I put it up here, in case anyone also wanted it.


I’m back! I tried to write this up last night after my line tips post, but then I had to sleep for a decade and shower for a year because I SLEPT ON THE GODDAMN STREET. Anyway:

  • Tuesday was my birthday and I really wanted to get in that day, but alas, it was not to be. We were #7 in the line after the evening show’s tickets were all taken and some people went home rather than staying the night. I knew if we could keep that #7 spot, we had really good odds of seeing the show on Wednesday, since there are two performances, so I ended up staying overnight.
  • I didn’t think I could do it! But I did, and seeing the musical was my #1 birthday wish, so having to wait an extra 20 hours or so was worth it. The sleep deprivation did start catching up to me during the second act and I got the beginnings of a migraine, but I still enjoyed every bit of it and I cried my eyes out.
  • I couldn’t have done this without my amazing mom. She held my place in line, brought me BIRTHDAY CAKE IN LINE, brought me stuff to help me sleep once I decided to stay overnight, and made friends with like everyone in the line. I’m thrilled that I got to see it with her!
  • This sounds like an award acceptance speech or something, but I would also like to thank the other people in line for being awesome, supportive, and friendly. When I didn’t think I could sleep on the street overnight, their enthusiasm and excitement gave me a second wind. A+ humans.
  • On Sunday when we first waited for tickets, I was still hoping to get in without paying the premium price for really good seats–but then I realized how hard it is to get tickets for under $1000 AT ALL, so I decided I was willing to pay for the premium seats, especially since this was probably my only chance to see the OBC, and to see Lin in the title role before he leaves in July. So we got SIXTH ROW TICKETS, goddamn.

As for the show itself, it was just as amazing as I knew it would be.

  • UNDERSTUDIES! We had 3: Alysha Deslorieux as Peggy/Maria, Andrew Chappelle as Laurens/Philip, and Carleigh Bettiol as Eliza. I was a bit disappointed not to see ~the originals~, but also intrigued as to how the musical would change with different actors.
  • I felt bad for the understudies because every time an original cast member came out there were GIANT CHEERS. Lin, Leslie, Chris Jackson, Daveed, and Oak all got cheered during the opening number, while the understudies got nothing. They’re probably used to that, but still.
  • Alysha Deslorieux has a slightly less smoky, but still sultry, voice compared to Jasmine. She did a great job, and her “And Peggy”s had the crowd cracking up. Apparently she’s a standby for all three women, which has to be exciting.
  • Similarly, Andrew Chappelle is an understudy for five different people. It was a little jarring to see him instead of Anthony Ramos as Laurens–Ramos seems to have more of an endearing, sweet quality to him, while Chappelle is more, I don’t know, wacky?–but he was really funny, and my mom, who didn’t have any preconceptions about the role, thought he was great. (I didn’t notice as much chemistry as I was expecting/hoping between him and Lin, but that could just be my lams shippiness giving me unrealistic expectations.) He was hilarious as Philip, too.
  • Carleigh Bettiol was note-perfect as Eliza. Voice-wise especially, it was hard to tell the difference! She also had a great emotive face, especially during the “everyone cries forever” parts. Her face just crumpled up and I was like NOOOOOO.
  • I’d still love to see the three originals in these roles and hopefully I will once they FINALLY RELEASE A FILM OF THE GODDAMN SHOW, but the understudies were great too. The whole company is phenomenal!
  • Some actors apparently put their twitter and instagram handles in their Playbill bios now. What a time to be alive.
  • Speaking of which, Oak’s bio starts with “My name is Oak. I have done things,” and ends with “Shake and bake.”
  • Daveed Diggs omg. It’s almost a cliche to say so at this point, but he was amazing, and hilarious, especially as Jefferson. He milked that role for all it was worth and knew exactly how to charm the audience. His facial expressions alone! Also, I don’t know how he manages to be so tall and long-limbed and still bounce around the stage like an overexcited puppy. He’s such a star.
  • Also, there was an interview with Daveed in Playbill where he said his favorite part to perform isn’t any of his own songs–it’s the backup singing for “Wait for It,” because he loves how Leslie sings it and getting to be a part of that. <3
  • SPEAKING OF LESLIE ODOM JR. What a fan-fucking-tastic performance. He’s got this coiled energy throughout the whole show, and you keep expecting it to burst out of him, but he stands stock-still for almost all of “Wait for It” (cause u gotta wait for it, I guess) and it isn’t until “The Room Where It Happens” that he really lets it out. And he really makes you feel for Burr. All the little moments where Burr is insulted or ignored are so much more intense when you see Leslie act them out, especially at the end when Hamilton endorses Jefferson and then Jefferson refuses to work with him. It’s just heartbreaking. He’s the Smile More guy, but Leslie plays him so you can tell that often he’s smiling to conceal his disappointment and despair.
  • DAT CHOREOGRAPHY THO. I loved it so much, especially… well, especially all of it, but it gave me a new appreciation for “Hurricane,” which I’m usually meh about. While Lin is in the middle singing, the company raises various pieces of furniture and stuff in the air and dances around him really slowly, so it looks like he really is standing in the middle of a hurricane in slow-motion. I liked that a lot.
  • My other favorite bits were mostly where the whole ensemble was onstage/singing at the same time–the first ~omg chills~ moment is when they sing “you never learned to take your time” in the opening number, but there were a bunch of them. They also form a lot of excellent tableaus, like during Washington’s “check it / can I be real a second” rap. And the lighting was awesome throughout. I’m just so glad I got to see it on stage.
  • Also, the rotating bits of the stage were used to great effect. Sometimes really simple stuff, like Maria walking down the “street” while the stage turned underneath her so she took more steps than the actual distance she traveled. I think all three duels were done while the stage was turning, and I especially liked one bit near the end where Burr says the line “they row him back across the Hudson” and two ensemble members sit down next to Lin and “row” him across the stage.
  • One of my favorite moments that I wasn’t expecting was when Angelica and Hamilton first meet, during the exchange “My name is Angelica Schuyler”/“Alexander Hamilton”/“Where’s your family from,” the two of them are standing REALLY CLOSE, like they’re about to kiss, but then of course they don’t. It just gives the scene this sexually charged quality that doesn’t come across on the OBCR. Then during “The Reynolds Pamphlet,” they’re standing close again, but this time because she’s angry at him for hurting Eliza. It’s a great echo.
  • Renée-Elise Goldsberry reminded me why “Satisfied” and Angelica were both instant favorites of mine. 
  • We saw a #ham4ham! It’s one of the company members, Daniel J. Watts, performing a tribute poem to Muhammad Ali. Of course it’s already up on YouTube. There’s audience participation!
  • Rory O’Malley is doing King George III right now, and he’s adorable. I sometimes skip the King George songs on the OBCR because they’re kind of repetitive once you’ve heard them all multiple times, but watching them onstage is a treat, because he hams it the fuck up and makes everybody laugh.
  • The staging of “Farmer Refuted” is really funny. Seabury gets up on a box to speak, and during the “if you repeat yourself again I’m gonna scream” part Hamilton jumps right up there with him and gets in his face, practically pushing him off the box. Thayne Jasperson is adorable btw. [heart eyes]
  • OMG, Chris Jackson freestyle singing (whatever that’s called) at the end of “One Last Time.” Brought the house down. So many showstoppers in this show, it’s a wonder it ever gets to the end! (Get it, cause… showstoppers… stop… the show… no but seriously everyone clapped a lot)
  • I could probably think of more things to say but long post is long and I don’t want to just end up repeating things others have said in their write-ups. You all know about the missing scenes, the mic drop, someone giving Alex Lacamoire a Reynolds Pamphlet, etc. And if you don’t, go spelunking in the Hamilton tag!
  • ONE MORE THING THO: That moment when Leslie stands on a table, jumps, and WHILE HE’S IN THE AIR someone PULLS THE TABLECLOTH OUT FROM UNDER HIM BEFORE HE LANDS BACK ON THE TABLE AGAIN omg how many times did they have to practice that and how many times did Leslie end up on the floor

Swan Queen Week Day 1: Meet cute AU, in which Regina and Emma meet when Emma saves Henry from a cave in.

“HENRY!” Regina yelled, running to the source of the crash. She’d known. She’d known that it was a bad idea to come this high on the mountain, but her son had insisted.
They’d started hiking a few months before, and he’d quickly grown to love it. He begged her to go deeper into the woods and despite her better judgment, she’d given in. He had that affect on her. She was always a bit too quick to let him have his way and now he might be hurt because of it.
Henry had ended up too far ahead of her and she’d lost sight of him. She heard him yell that he’d found a cave and then heard the crash. Her heart raced as she found the entry to the cave. “Henry,” she tried not to yell, for fear that it could cave in further.
“Hey,” an unfamiliar female voice responded. “He’s here. He’s alright. If you look around up there, you’ll see my spelunking gear. I need you to toss some things to me to get us out of here.”
The stranger talked her through everything she needed and Regina lowered it to her.
After an agonizing 15 minutes a blonde head of hair appeared at the opening followed by a face with the most beautiful smile she’d ever seen, and then the figure of her son that brought Regina to tears. She smiled anyway as the woman unhooked her gear from the boy. As soon as he was free, Regina pulled him into a fierce hug. “Thank you, thank you so much,” looking up at the stranger.
“No problem. I told the little guy he has to be more careful from now on. No more running off from his mom.” She reached out her hand, “I’m Emma, by the way, Emma Swan.”
Regina took her hand, “Regina Mills. Nice to meet you Miss Swan.”