#eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeh

rhodesian ridgebackHate | Not my type | ok | Good | Great! | One of my Favorites! | I LOVE THEM!!handsome and beautiful to watch. great athleticism. not quite for me, i’d like a dog that’s a little less independent. but i’ve met a lot of that i’ve really really enjoyed. solid good dog. Australian shepherdHate | Not my type | ok | Good | Great! | One of my Favorites! | I LOVE THEM!!sorry :( again hate it too strong of a word, but i just.... really don’t like them. i’ve met some great aussies! but i don’t like how high energy they are and how soft they are, another breed i find to be somewhat pathetic. i’m not a fan of the domed head and the long coat either. Anatolian ShepherdHate | Not my type | ok | Good | Great! | One of my Favorites! | I LOVE THEM!!i’m not big on livestock guardians, though anatolians are my favorite of the lsg’s. i can appreciate the sort of rugged independence they have, i think they’re more athletic than other lsg’s, and have less coat, and just seem more active and bright. but still not exactly a dog i’d want to own. 

Thank you for the prompt nonnie! I struggled and ripped my hair over this one because I have imagined it so much, yet it didn’t come out as I pleased.I also want to encourage you to try yourself, i’m sure you could do it very well yourself!!

Hope you enjoy!

Mirror, mirror, don’t lie to me

It was a clunky thing, and she kept bumbing her shoulder on it whenever she walked past. The pain was dull, a little scratch on the surface compared to the heated sting she felt when she ran her fingertips over the reflective surface, thoughts whirring like defunkt machinery.It was a closed loop. Skyhold was silent and felt empty, nobles sighing wistfully in every corner hoping to catch the fabled Inquisitor do something heroic, come save their day swinging from the chandellier.Alas.She floated through the halls, read books with Dorian. Played a game of cards with Varric, a game of chess with Cullen.She sometimes had an ale with Iron Bull but returned to her room without experiencing the pleasant buzz, scared it would take her melancholy away.It was easier to feel the sorrow, rather that than the raging anger that flowed unbidden, hidden in her veins.Sometimes, she bumped her shoulder on purpose.

On the other side, somewhere filled with grime and gold, he heard the tell-tale thump as it came like clockwork every night, when the sun hung low on his sky. He knew what he did was indulgment, the guiltiest pleasure known to man, but he took it as a punishment.Every night, he tore his heart open.Every night, he stared at her as her breathing leveled out, tears drying on her cheeks.Every damn night, he fell on his knees, begging to be brave enough to touch her.Tonight, as every night, his hands fell back, trembling from longing.He stood there, this old and utter fool of a man, praying for redemtion.

It fizzled and popped, a breaking of the surface, the skip in his heartbeat.It went smooth, that one inspired second, now he held his breath and immediatly stepped all the way through.The eluvian thrummed, as if pleased with his bravery, flicking off like a salute.

His steps were like whispers, floating closer to her bed. Her back was turned and he prayed he hadn’t woken her, unaware of the fact that she never fell asleep.Then he layed down beside her, breathing poems on her neck, asking for forgiveness with his fingers as they hovered above her.