#this is so wordy jesus fucking christ

[forever-fixating]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by the lovely @piratefalls and @onthewaytosomewhere

Happy birthday to our favorite chaos bisexual baby boi, Alex! I am almost at the finished line for this chapter. I'm determined to post today, so stay tuned, folks. Wordy little bastard Alex has a lot to say and a lot of FEELS. ENJOY!

As they exited the cemetery, Henry turned to him and asked, “Would you indulge me one more cemetery tour?” Alex nodded, something in Henry’s eyes telling him this was important. They walked down the street until they found an appropriate place to cross. Henry led them up to the open gate that read Holt Cemetery. Compared to the grandeur of the place they just left, Holt looked rundown and neglected. The gravestones were worn and crooked, some lined with PVC pipe or broken mini-picket fences, and decorated with mementos from loved ones. He took Henry’s hand and squeezed it as they walked along the gravel drive. “Somewhere in here,” Henry said softly, “may lie the remains of four men, victims of a gay bar fire in 1973 called the Upstairs Lounge.” “May?” Henry’s jaw tightened. “Many older records were destroyed after Katrina. Some say the victims, one, possibly two, who have been identified, were buried here or in the Charity Hospital Cemetery nearby. Their bodies were so damaged, they were never identified or claimed. One man’s family, Ferris LeBlanc, didn’t even know he’d died in the fire until 2015. In total, thirty-two men died that night, the deadliest attack on a queer space until Pulse in Orlando.” “Jesus fucking Christ,” Alex hissed. “Was anyone ever charged?” Henry shook his head. “There was a suspect, a man who had been ejected about twenty minutes before the fire started, but it ultimately went nowhere. It was just a bunch of queers who had it coming, right?” “How did you learn about this?” “A documentary,” Henry replied. They paused, and Henry held their joined hands against his chest. “I have a vested interest in the history of our community because the mainstream media and so-called educators still seek to bury it.” Alex swallowed thickly as he scanned the cemetery. As the son of a Mexican immigrant, he knew all too well how hard the system fought to suppress those they deemed as “other.” It occurred to him that so much of the real history of this country hadn’t been taught to him in the classroom but through books, documentaries, and people like Henry. People determined not to let their history fade into obscurity. “I don’t mean to preach-” Alex stopped him. “No, you’re not. And you’re right. These men deserve to be remembered. Thank you for sharing this with me. I’ve only been for about a year, and I’ve still got so much more I need to learn.” “That’s the first step,” Henry smiled. “The worst thing you can do as a young queer person is live in willful ignorance because the people in power are counting on it. Pride Month is about so much more than celebrating who we are. It’s about remembering those who we’ve lost, who didn’t get the chance to live openly as we do now.” Alex felt a lump growing in his throat. He wrapped his arms around Henry and squeezed tight. Henry huffed a laugh but returned his embrace, murmuring, “I’d kiss you right now, but that would be grossly inappropriate, given our current location.” “Good call.”

There are so many bonding moments between A&H in this chapter, but this is one I'm proud of. As a queer person myself, Henry was channeling me as I too think it is beyond vital that queer people learn their history, the bad and the good. Celebrate Pride but remember the people who are no longer here. CMQ brought up the story of the Upstairs Lounge in One Last Stop, so I wanted to include it here as I feel it would be something important that Henry would want to share with Alex. I promise, this chapter is almost done and you guys are NOT ready for it! All aboard the hype train, choo chooooooo! See ya soon!

#red white and royal blue #rwrb #firstprince #rwrb movie #wip wednesday

[vulpixelates]

self-efficacy, wisdom, authenticity, appreciation, and prudence for Ollie, Logan, and Caerellia now plz

SELF-EFFICACY– Does the end justify the means? How to they approach their goals? Do they blame others for their own faults or admit them?

all in all, ollie is much more likely to blame herself than those around her (unless the other person in question is her mother) because you know, it's usually her fault, so why would this time be different? she can be very temperamental in her decision-making but it's less "the ends justify the means" and more "what would make me feel better right now?" however, she does try to keep an eye out for the people she cares about.

logan is extremely goal-oriented, so sometimes the ends do justify the means for her as long as she's not harming her family or her community. when she was younger i think she often shifted blame onto others before herself but mostly in a self-preservation way - she always had to be better than everyone to "prove" her "worth" to her family so i think this made her pretty defensive. though it might have been a long road to get there, she's cooled down quite a bit in that regard as an adult.

caerellia will do whatever it takes to get her way by any means necessary, the tricksier the better. there are a few groups who she won't trample over but the rest had better watch out. she has to practically delude herself into being entirely certain that what she is doing is the best for everyone in order to do so, but y'know. desperate times and all that.

[popping the rest of this under a read more bc i got VERY wordy 🙃✌]

WISDOM– Are they open to other people’s perspectives? Do they look to history and past mistakes? What kinds of internal dialogue do they have about difficult situations?

while ollie tries not to look back too far behind her, she recognizes when other people know more about things than her and will lean on them/listen to their advice before moving forward. in times of difficulty, mostly her head is just a repeat of "jesus fucking christ i have GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE."

logan has enough sense to know what she knows and what she doesn't, and understands the importance of learning from her past errors. especially now that her oldest daughter is a teenager and she realizes how much her youngest picks up on everything, it's so important to her to model emotional intelligence like this. in difficult situations, she will take about 10 seconds to panic (or a few minutes to hit someone w her shoes if the situation calls for it) and then jump immediately into problem-solving mode.

caerellia is also very aware of her abilities - and where her weaknesses are. she isn't the wisest person but she has grown up around someone who is (volusena, probably the only voice of reason in all of artana tbh) and learned the benefits of listening to others' perspectives. acknowledging past mistakes is definitely a point of contention though; she is very convinced that she can't show any weakness and being wrong is one of the biggest weaknesses to her, something that she would take advantage of in a millisecond if any opponent were to do. so that's definitely an area she needs to grow in. maybe some of lilith's temperament will rub off on her.

AUTHENTICITY– What are sub- and unconscious things that make them who they are? Who can they be themselves with, and who do they wear a mask for? What kinds of social roles do they perform?

this one is tough for ollie. i've touched on the fact that she has trouble letting people in, so i think she definitely puts on a facade for the world: she's tough, she's hard, nothing can break through her shell and hurt her. her friends can see glimpses of this though, especially people like jo, billie, and maude but especially maude. who understands a weird lesbian with trauma better than their high school art or english teacher?

to logan, i think above everything else is being a wife and mother. she became that at such a young age that it has become a huge part of how she identifies, though i wouldn't say it's a bad thing in her case. she is a person outside of it still, with a clear identity - her wife and children are just such huge parts of how she sees herself. parenthood shaped her; being gentle and loving to her children in ways she had never experienced healed her. it isn't about who she is to others or what she can do for them, it's about how she sees herself. making other people feel seen and loved is one of her favorite things.

i have answered similar questions about caerellia often so i'll give myself a pass on this one given the length of all of my other answers aoiejfaoi. tl;dr, caerellia wears a mask around almost everyone (literally) and has so much trouble taking it off that it takes her a lot of soul-searching to learn who she really is and what she wants to be.

APPRECIATION– What kind of accomplishments do they recognize? What things do they find beautiful or attractive? Which of their senses do they find most joy engaging with?

for other people, ollie is very (and secretly) impressed especially by academic and social accomplishments/traits. like, she's so fucking jealous of people who are able to be vulnerable and authentic with others so easily, or people who work their ass off to do cool things. she is really attracted to people who know who they are and what they want. and as an artist/photographer, i think sight and touch are her most joyful senses to engage with.

logan is the type of person who just loves to see people around her succeed, no matter what they're doing or if others might think it's just a small thing. she's the #1 hype woman. as for attractiveness, her type is all across the board but she heavily prefers dating butches and studs; she feels the most authentic in romantic/sexual herself when in relationships w them and i think she especially loves the romantic side of taking care of them when usually people expect them to take care of others. as for senses, god, that's a hard pick, but probably a tie between touch and taste? so much of her life revolves around food but she's a touchy-feely and tactile kinda girl too.

caerellia is most impressed by feats of power and talent, especially if it's natural. effortless. nothing is sexier to her. bonus points if there's a secret soft side, or a not-so-secret one. for senses, she'd probably chose sight, which is ironic given the profession she almost went into.

PRUDENCE– How far ahead do they plan? Are they able to strategize future potential factors? Do they go out of their way to ask for clarification, or simply assume they know what they’re doing?

ollie does not often plan ahead, at least for her own future. she definitely thinks a lot about how things could go wrong though which will surely come in handy in the days to come, and she'll definitely always ask for clarification if it's a situation where she feels comfortable.

logan is a PLANNER. she has to be with her ADHD and how busy she is, or else she'd always be running around like a chicken w her head cut off lmao. (it should be noted that she has gotten these habits primarily from her oldest daughter, who is an organized, planning queen.) i think planning is also a major source of comfort for her, though she is always ready to switch gears if something goes awry. she isn't the type to ever assume and doesn't have any ego about asking for help or clarification when she needs it.

caerellia is very similar to logan in this way: she's a chaotic ADHD girlie as well but in her situation, she has to stay on top of everything so excessive planning is how she copes. however, i think she's less adept at adapting in the moment if something goes not according to plan. despite the chaos, she's strung a little bit tightly at times. in regards to asking for clarification, often she'd rather eat her own boot than to admit that she doesn't know everything around someone she doesn't trust, harkening back to the answer for wisdom. but she grows up a bit eventually.

#holy moly this was a long one. MY BAD. i rambled #ty for the ask wife 💕 #replies #kilgore-sauerkraut #oc: ollie parnell #oc: logan murphy #oc: caerellia asperanas

[speedprofessor]

POWERS AND ABILITIES - PART ONE because jesus christ this is so long

-Speed Force Conduit: For the most part, Eobard has access to the same array of powers and abilities as all other speedsters. However, as a result of his unique connection to the Speed Force, he has access to the oft-misunderstood Negative side of it as well and powers connected to it.           -Negative Speed Force: A part of the Speed Force proper instead of a wholly separate entity, Negative Speed Force is the ying to Speed Force’s yang. As The Flash generates positive charge with each step he takes, Negative Speed Force is where, as the name suggests, negative charges go to be stored. Speed Force storms are a result of the negative charge overwhelming the Speed Force, so Negative Speed Force users help alleviate the pressure by expunging negative charge with each step they take. A speedster should be careful interacting with the Negative Force, however. If a Speedster is simultaneously connected to the Positive and Negative harnessing of the Speed Force, they may experience emotional instability and loss of control. Only by fully connecting with the Negative Speed Force can a Speedster behave as normal. So far, Eobard Thawne is the sole pure conduit of the Negative Speed Force, having merged with it fully following his erasure from existence in 2014 (season one). Some extra details about his connection to the Negative Speed Force HERE. -Superhuman Speed: The defining power of all speedsters, Eobard is one of the fastest people alive. Prior to his pure connection to the Negative Speed Force, he was slower than the Flash of 2024, using tachyonic enhancements to boost his speed. After his death and return via the Speed Force, his speed is identical to Barry’s. (Negative Speed Force is only as strong as the Positive Speed Force.)           -Dimensional Travel: Using his incredible speed, Eobard can break the barriers between worlds and travel between alternate realities.           - Aerokinesis: Using his speed, Eobard can generate air flow as vacuums on various levels. He can create fierce waves and vacuums of air by shaking a body part very fast.           -Speed Mirage Construct: By using his speed to bounce back and forth so quickly, Eobard can create after-images with his speed, making it appear like he's in two places at once. This image is so realistic, human mind can't perceive the difference. Eobard can also create mirror speed projections while retaining his peak speed. -Superhuman Durability and Stamina: Speed Force Aura allows him to endure much more than a regular human and for him to run longer without feeling the effects of exhaustion. -Superhuman Agility: Eobard possesses inhuman bodily coordination, balance, equilibrium and dexterity. He is able to change direction immediately, thus allowing him to make sharp turns on city streets without sliding or losing his balance. -Superhuman Strength: Due to the tremendous amounts of Speed Force energy in his body, Eobard displays a degree of superhuman strength, exerting inhuman amounts of force without using his speed. -Superhuman Mental Process and Accelerated Perception:  Eobard's increased speed also augments his reaction time, allowing him to react to danger and events far faster than a normal human. This also enhances his senses in general, allowing him to take in information and process it at much faster rates than a normal human, as well as see and hear clearly when moving at super-speed. -Accelerated Healing: Eobard, as all speedsters, heals much faster than normal humans. Broken bones and other wounds can heal in a matter of hours. See HERE for how his paralysis in the aftermath of the Accelerator Explosion affected his healing capabilities.  -Molecular Acceleration: Eobard can vibrate any part of his body at different frequencies on command, with varying effects. Most frequently, he vibrates his entire body to keep his identity a secret, making himself look like a blur and distorting his voice to a low growl. He can also vibrate his cells to become intangible and phase through people and objects without harming them, though he can also use this ability to phase his hand into someone’s chest and crush their heart. As you do. This ability also gives him a degree of Cosmic Awareness, allowing him to sense vibrational frequencies and discern if a person is from an alternate Earth and which Earth he is on. -Electrokinesis: Like all conduits of the Speed Force, Eobard generates large amounts of electrical energy from his body. The lightning emanates off of him as red electrical arcs from all around his body and it can interfere with, and fry, electronics. From a stationary position, Eobard can generate a continuous stream of lighting to launch at a target.  As a byproduct of his electrokinesis, he can also make his eyes glow a deep crimson red, which he makes frequent use of for intimidation and cool factor. -Time Travel: Like most experienced speedsters, Eobard can tap into the Speed Force to travel forwards and backwards in time. What sets him apart is the sheer precision and refinement in which he exercises this ability. Unlike all other users of the Speed Force, he can alter the timeline with little to no adverse effects, stemming partially from his Negative connection and his overall knowledge of history and the flow of time.            -Retrocognition: By tapping into the Negative Speed Force, Eobard is able to retain information from previous timelines. This ability is further enhanced by Eobard’s discovery of the Time Language, which are a series of symbols that can be used to talk to another individual while they are in another time period or to record events regardless of the changes in the timeline; in which the language is able to survive the multiples changes to the timeline.  -Immortality: A result of the combined effects of his status as a living paradox and the main conduit of the Negative Speed Force, Eobard is functionally immortal.  He is immune to alterations to his personal history which makes him the sole constant in any possible timeline and thus impossible to erase him from existence. 

#; REVISING MY INITIAL THESIS ( headcanon. ) #this is so wordy jesus fucking christ #will I ever learn to be brief and concise? absolutely fucking not #at some point I gave up and started copy pasting from arrow wiki lmao #I can't make 'superhuman [blank]' sound interesting I'm sorry #speedsters op nerf pls

[tasmanianstripes]

The fandom being toxic and rude to one another 🤝 The canon content having SO much trauma and characters victim blaming others

The reason why I'm interested in DSMP less and less

#thylacines can talk #honestly i dont want to hear how tommy apologists are annoying or how techno apologists are annoying or whatever the fuck yall are both #annoying please stfu already. also the amount of bad takes from everybody is just so fucking bad like i dont wanna hear any of you rabid #fuckers victim blaming tommy or saying techno is an emotionless villain or phil is a bad dad or calling wilbur and dream crazy jesus christ #i guess this is what i get for being in a fandom with children but theres also so many of these horrible takes i saw from ADULTS ffs #then theres just the sheer amoung of trauma and drama in the canon content like no please i do not want to see same 3 teens getting traumati #sed and blamed for their trauma or stupid irrelevant shit by other characters AND the fandom over and over and over again #'tommy is the center of every conflict' please stfu. 'techno is a villain' PLEASE stfu. #admittely i did called him one like once or twice but only bc 'dsmp villain/antagonist tier list' sounds a lot better than #'dsmp tier list of people who did despicable things and played the role of an antagonist at least once be it because of their own pain or a #misunderstanding/miscommunication between two parties and while they did bad things i dont think theyre bad people' like thats too wordy #i still like the content creators and like the dsmp but i start to fall out of that interest because of the fandom the content being way too #dark and the fact i was always struggling with watching the streams to begin with bc of my poor attention span + the fact i usually like to #do something else while the stream plays in the bg and i cant do that with dsmp unless i wanna miss something inportant happening

[gncharlie]

Imagine the first time that the Scientist sees Charlie out of his mind on drugs. It's shocking but he's just concerned and brings him into his apartment and gets him cleaned up and ready for bed and nods along to whatever shit Charlie's saying. He fixes him a glass of water and lies next to him. He fixes him a good breakfast in the morning. Charlie is embarrassed because he didn't want Scientist to see him that low but Scientist knows what he's in for and he just wants to help how he can.

i'm sorry but... my mind blanked after the first 4 lines cuz brain went 'WHAT IF THEY WENT TO HIGH SCHOOL TOGETHER????????? AND SCIENCE BITCH WAS THE NERD THAT SOMEHOW ALWAYS ENDED UP FINDING CHARLIE HIGH AS FUCK AND HAVING TO MAKE SURE HES SAFE AND SOUND, CLEANING HIM UP AND GIVING HIM WATER OR SOME SHIT CUZ HES AN ANGEL WITH THE BIGGEST HEART'but back to your ask anon *cough cough* sorry :/ .. ooh imagine charlie goes to the science bitch's lab late at night drunk as shit cuz the gang was being mean to him about how he'll never get the waitress (this set before any charbitch romance where charlie still 'pursuing' the waitress but kinda buds with science bitch and visits his lab whenever) so science bitch is shocked at how drunk charlie is and immediately decides it's time to go home and drop charlie off back at the bar, but the bar is locked and empty so he has to take charlie back to his place cuz he doesn't know.tje rest of the gang and he doesn't know where charlie lives, charlie is passed out depending on the science bitch to carry his weight and he has his head flop down to the crevice between the science bitch's neck and shoulder, saying an offhand comment about 'you smell good' they finally reach the science bitch's apartment and he let's charlie sleep on his couch after eating some bread, drinking some water, and taking some pills (idk how drunkenness works)charlie wakes up the next morning like 'what? where am i?' and gets glimmers back to last night when he just slouched himself on the science bitches body and screamed slurred words at the bitch like 'THANKS FOR THE BREAD YOU STUPID SCIENCE BITCH' and just feels mortified that he was such a dumbass when the science bitch was being so nice to him..

#ask #anon #charbitch #iasip #jesus fucking christ why am i so wordy today?????????

[ao3commentoftheday]

Comment reads: “Well this is fucken OVERWHELMING.

I just read the chapter, then went back to the first chapter, then reread this chapter. Bitch. This is glorious. I can’t even string together fucking a fucking comment for fucks sake Jesus rizzen Christ, Jo.

Of course it’s deliciously dark. Not becs “dark”, no. This is thick and viscous and lava hot. I love it. Just like with all your writing, it’s visceral and sensuous. I can feel it and smell it, touch it, taste it. If suffocation were to feel good, that would be a good summary of your writing.

You make it look so easy, I know how much you poured into this. I really can’t fucken wait to see where you take it with that big sexy brain of yours.

Ugh. I love you. Ahhhh. Sweet sexy dirty melty wordy goodness, keep jizzing it into my eyeballs pls”

---

😭😭😭

Fic Link

#ao3commentoftheday #submission

[wackywheel]

Hi what does time coded and thief coded mean they sound interesting. I get time is like bc time traveler connor (? Maybe) but i dont know what they mean

oh my god anon ilysm /p you have no idea how much youre enabling me to talk about my boys in hs words rn <3

context for anon’s question! also i will readmore this because. i will probably get very wordy.

a bit of broader context- when a character is described as an (x) of (y), (ei- page of time, thief of rage, mage of space, etc,) that’s their classpect! classpect is a portmanteau of class and aspect, a sort of character role?? assignment system from the video game sburb from homestuck.

when a character participates in an sburb session, they’re assigned a classpect, which is a title that essentially sort of embodies who they are as a person, from their behavior and reactions to things, to how they view the world around them! (/rp from here on out im not classpecting the ccs lmao)

i’ll start off with connor, since you listed him first: youre half right about my choice of the time aspect being tied to his time traveler-ness, but it extends a bit deeper than that i’d argue. as an aspect, time very much embodies not just the concept of the passage of time, but what time does to things and what changes come of it. time is fate, it’s both the journey AND the destination, never staying still or the same as it was moments ago, but also being malleable enough that a miracle or little alteration could send it careening the other direction. now, when it comes to classes, i specifically read connor as a page of time. especially. the page part. like jesus christ he is a Textbook Fucking Page. pages are characterized as people who start out with very very little of their aspect, and must learn to hone and master it along their journey. which is why they’re called pages; they’re named after a knight’s apprentice from the medieval era! once they have mastered their aspect though, holy shit they are powerful. often described as one of the most powerful classes, in fact.

ok ive said plenty of nonsense words that have nothing to do with him. so, how does this apply to connor?

well, a page of time is someone who will start out on their journey lacking in time, but as they grow more, they will gain much, much more of it. a lack of time could be described as possibly... impatience? a pretend-air of acceptance and understanding when it comes to acknowledging change around them, whether it be in people or places present and past. sound familiar to how connor outwardly treats the idea of schlatt being dead by acting as though he’s moved on entirely? even when he absolutely hasn’t and explicitly states that he misses him in his diary? smells like a page just starting out on their

now, i could also go into how classpect inversion also plays a part in how connor acts in relation to his classpect, but that would take like 3 more paragraphs to even explain and i’ve already typed a ton, so i’ll move on to schlatt now lmao (also to preface this section, i’m a bit rusty on season 1/manberg era, so a LOT of this will be me going off of smplive knowledge more than anything lmao)

starting off with his class this time, i’ve come to the conclusion that schlatt would probably be a thief if anything! thieves are people that uses their aspect to steal things, or steals their aspect outright. thieves are often well meaning, but a bit self-centered as well. they’re naturally very confident and proficient when handling their aspect as a weapon, but often also have insecurities or weaknesses that they refuse to let others witness, for fear of seeming less competent than they really are. their journey will usually culminate in them learning to allow others to use/have their aspect as well, or the thief dying in the process of it being taken from them. so, schlatt is a thief of rage specifically. how does rage as an aspect work? well, while the obvious answer to that is obviously negative emotion and power, rage also manifests itself as chaos, doubt, and the concept of the truth sometimes being an ugly, unhappy type of thing. rage is causing unrest and destruction, if only to prove a point to those who have lied before that they can’t get away with it forever. it is stubborn, unrelenting, and cutthroat; in both the best and worst of ways.

with all of that said, here’s the million dollar question; how does this apply to schlatt?

well, at his core, schlatt’s a con artist that keeps the people in mind. he undermines markets with his own currency, teaching people not to trust every shop they throw their diamonds into at the cost of him growing wildly popular and wealthy. he bends the rules and darts through loopholes to sneak into elections, snatching the victory out from under the noses of those who believed they had omission-of-truth’d their way out of having to play the game fair and square like everyone else. he takes the chance for retaliation, for an equal attack back on him, away from those that are at odds with him, and uses his own wrath to gain more and more of an upper hand. that and hes loud. very. very loud. schlatt is an absolute show stopper. even on his deathbed, he took all of the fighting spirit from not only his enemies, but those allied with him as well, in order to give one last hurrah of a ‘fuck you lol’ to everyone around him.

again, i could go into even more detail about how thieves and pages are natural opposites, and how poetically hilarious that is considering how schlatt and connor are a fucking walking comedy routine, but i will spare your eyes of even more reading just this once

(....unless yall wanna hear about that.... bc if so please ask away i love classpecting so fucking much <333)

#i. do i have an ask tag #um #silly asks #there #dsmp #smpl #connor #schlatt #what if i maintagged this. #lol fuck it #dream smp #connoreatspants #jschlatt #hi main tag hi hi hiiii #413 #if i need to tag hs mentions for the sake of blacklists please lmk btw ill update this immediately for yall #if not ill still tag hs stuff as 413 regardless #stealing from beloved mutual icarus apollos hyphen boyfriend lol

[istherewifiinhell]

read progress: chapter 109 (i usually dont keep read after i get home but oh fuck oh god)

Highlights: a shorter section but fucking dense with things to react to so its wordy

98 all this talk of kdj morals and I didn't get to the child endangerment/distress

It occurs to be I dont know what a Ichthyosaurius (i look it up. maybe i do? from abzu???)

99 what kind of time line is this. fascinating but also. What the fuck are you two talking about

LGY wearing a snapback and HDH with headphones. I love kids

LGY SYS BABY FIGHT. opposite of befriending the only other child at the hotel pool

SYS: i know who kdj likes! a girl! LGY: no....

101 LJH is also sparing lives for yjh's happiness jesus christ

My Lieutenant.... bear suit and a beard you say

hes like a kicked puppy to me

102 KDJ trying to get an intimate stabbing in before king of killing kicks in

YJH crying cause his weird little dude IS DYING

103 bald general blushing at their "companionship" i mean. same but lol

KDJ oh he is being emotional for coins ofc

YOU DENSE MF. You have a GAY crush on a fictional character WHOSE NOW REAL

Heavy metal bean??

104 KDJ everyone loves you so much you STUPID MAN

105 oh he loves them so much too

it was the first time i noticed his back was big and wide -> is now really the time

and lonely..... -> what are you gonna do about it spoon him?

106 AH. it is time to hate the gods.

107 Scribe of heaven is embarassed. Absolute good deep in thought -> FEEL SHAME U FUCKS

Go Crazy. Make a fuss. Until the Day I pull out your tongues -> ATTACK AND DETHRONE GOD

108 Why is everyone crying. GOD DUDE WHAT THE FUCK

rotating in my mind. i hrnnnggg. god. okay. ill tell you i actually kept reading into 109 a little but emotional just. wasnt quite. i needed to sit with this. but. i guess lets call the theme. Managing Expectations. with kids, all powerful gods. that boy you like and are having intense delusions about (i almost said psychosexual but like. too clueless for that. romance violence maybe. intimacy smth smth). but no actually god. we are getting heavy into the everyone knows how much these two mean to each other and are making assumptions. but like. WHAT ARE U TO EACH OTHER.

and as for the. uhhhhhh devastating disaster drama. agency. gods. performance. some secret was pulled there at the end. and. KDJ is. both more in tune with the emotional tenor of whats going on and has also never been farther from it. Like. Objectively. He understands and feels for the tragedy of it. hes despairing at the communicative gap that might exist. he understands the horrors that have been endured and the tragedy of death. of failing, and of being powerless to stop the situation, that he can never truly know how its affecting young SYS. but. okay. why is everyone crying. DUDE. circles again. but with more depth this time. which. i think is called a downward spiral jfbjdhbsdb

#some shit #orv blogging #a lot of my thougths with the god specifically are holding with SWK fighting heaven and being stuck under that mountain for 500 years. #plus the head band #and also. blaseball again... hate it when i am a play thing of an unseen power playing a gamified event with horrors beyond my comprehensio #ALRIGHT. okay. okay. ending this. posting

[masterkief]

request: i literally had a dreqm about it but maybe... where yr drunk or something and ryan takes care of you nd tucks you in bed but u kinda whine cuz u dont want him to leave:.... *rots and dies* im sorry if this is so wordy LMAO n e ways love yr blog!!!!! :) <3

hiii I really hope you like this 🥺 @twoheadedboypt2

- -

My head was fuzzy, a noise filled my ears like rushing waves; I was stupid drunk. Deciding it was finally time to try and walk though, I pushed myself away from the kitchen counter; stumbling briefly.

Taking my time I wondered through the house ignoring unwanted conversation and trying my hardest not to fall over. Making it to the living room I spotted him sitting on the arm of the couch making everyone around him laugh like he always did.

His eyes lit up when they caught mine.

“Y/N!” He called, waving me over.

Annihilated or not my lips couldn’t help but pull themselves into a smile.

“Hey handsome.” I said, somehow managing not to slur my words.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and sat on his lap. Shifting so that he could hold both of us on the couch arm, his hand held onto my hip.

“You uh...good Y/N?” He asked, his breath against my ear causing goosebumps.

I pulled away a bit and raised an eyebrow. It was getting harder to pretend I was “sober”.

“I am fineeee Magee.” I booped his nose, “Are you?”

A smirk pulled at his lips, the grip he had on my hip tightening. He knew I was fucked up, his sudden concerned expression making it harder to lie.

Ryan had seen me fucked up plenty of times, always playing the part of my knight in shining armor and coming to my rescue. I don’t know how he wasn’t sick of me by now.

“Okay fine, I’m fucked up.” I whimpered with a pout.

Ryan laughed, sliding me off of him gently. Standing, he held me in place.

“You want me to drive you home?” He said over the music.

I nodded as a sting of embarrassment touched my cheeks. I hated when Ryan had to play babysitter.

Saying our goodbyes, he then lead me from the house with my hand tightly in his.

By the time we got to (and into) my place I was ready to keel over.

“Y/N let’s go, your room is literally 2 feet away.” Ryan groaned when I stopped to “rest” on my couch.

Pouting again I tried to find words of protest but failed, yawning instead. Ryan rolled his eyes at my silence and stomped towards me.

“Y/N seriously get.up.”

Ryan trying to scold me was hilarious for some reason, a small chuckle escaping my throat followed by a hiccup. He scoffed and before I knew it he was lifting me up and over his shoulder.

“Oh Ryan!” I cried, too drunk to really resist. “Come on I could’ve walked.”

Ignoring me he continued to my room. Eventually my back met with the mattress, Ryan standing over me; examining me.

“Well.” I slurred wiggling “seductively” on my bed.

Ryan gave me a suspicious look, earning another smile from me.

“You wanted me in here so bad, aren’t you gonna help ya girl out?” I provoked, hinting at him taking my clothes off for me.

Ryan once again rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Jesus christ Y/N I fucking hate you sometimes.”

Hesitating, he walked towards me. I was going to fuck with him and call him a perv but the thought of Ryan undressing me held any smart comment I could make in the back of my throat. I observed quietly as he confidently undid the button of my jeans, slowly sliding them downward. Lifting my shirt up and over my head, his eyes then found themselves transfixed on my chest.

“Ryan.” I pretended to scold him.

Quickly shaking any inappropriate thoughts away, he threw an oversized tshirt at me like a dodgeball.

“Alright.” He said once I crawled under my blankets, “Are you good now?”

He was closer to my door than I had wanted.

“Ryan?” I said, my voice like a whiny child.

“Y/N?” He replied folding his arms over his chest.

“Will you stay with me?”

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the way Ryan once again went out of his way to take care of me, but I was feeling...soft...cuddly? His expression of disbelief was somewhat unsettling, making me instantly regret my suggestion.

“A-are you su-....like in the same bed? Are you sure?”

I guess I had caught him off guard, but I couldn’t help but giggle at his sudden nervousness.

“Ryan you stripped me half naked but sleeping in bed with me is what freaks you out?” I joked shaking my head in amazement.

Without a word he rolled his eyes and made his way to my bed. Undressing to his boxers he then stood next to the bed in silence. Laughing again I slid over to give him some room.

“Come on big boy.” I teased patting the empty space, “Make baby happy.”

Turning away from him and onto my side, I felt him finally get in. I was worried I was going to have to ask him to cuddle but before I could even process how to go about it, his arm snaked it’s way over my waist and his body pressed against my back. Snuggling into him more, I could finally close my eyes.

“Thanks for taking care of me...again.” I said, drifting off to sleep.

Squeezing me tighter, his lips met the back of my head.

“Anything for the precious little baby.”

#requests #request #ryan magee fic #matt and ryan #ryan magee imagine #ryan magee oneshot #ryan magee x reader #ryan magee #supermega oneshot #supermega x reader #supermega imagine #supermega #supermega fic

[icannotgetoverbirds]

hello

not really exmo as much as just funny but I'll still be throwing it under a cut

So I just heard about "Under the Banner of Heaven" - and I tried to reblog the post I found it on but then Tumblr glitched out and like every letter was being typed twice and out of order, but I don't care if God himself wants to fuck me up for leaving or whatever this is funny as shit.

Anyways the article I found about the movie notes that:

"The miniseries tells the story through the eyes of Garfield’s character, detective Jeb Pyre, who is a “devout Mormon,” according to FX’s YouTube description — though the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ official style guide discourages the term. But as Pyre delves deeper into the case, he begins to even question his own faith."

It also makes sure to inform you of a recent change to the article:

So, of course, I go to read the style guide and clarify the problem in the article that needed "fixing" - the use of the term Mormon.

and I don't know if this was done out of convenience to keep the article from becoming too wordy - I doubt that considering the added disclaimer - but it honestly looks like a gigantic middle finger to the church, especially since they included a link to the style guide lmao

anyways here's the article so you can see it for yourself

https://www.polygon.com/23002197/andrew-garfield-under-the-banner-of-heaven-trailer-release-date-hulu

#lmao #exmo #im feeling very exmo in this chilis tonight #exmormon #ex mormon #ex religious #ex cult #tw #cw #tw cult mention #tw religious mention #tbh this is way too fucking funny to me #like they really said fuck you and we're gonna make sure everyone else knows what a little soggy end piece of bread you are #i support #byrd is an exmo

[dykevillanelle]

Can you see a happy ending for Eve and Villanelle?

for a long time i would have said no but now, whether it be from the tonal shift of the show or my own overblown optimism.......yes? 

TLDR because jesus christ i’m being pretentious and wordy this morning: i thought killing eve going to go the traditional “bad people get cosmically punished” route, and now i’m convinced they’re committed to telling a more complicated story. which i do believe contains room for a “happy ending” 

one thing that really bothers me in media (mostly television, but it’s present everywhere) is shows being overly didactic and not trusting its audience to do two things simultaneously: 1) understand that something is bad and shouldn’t be done, and 2) be interested and intrigued by it anyway. (caveat: there are hard lines when it comes to things like bigotry and csa that just shouldn’t be done in the first place or should be done extremely carefully.)

so instead, shows will present a dynamic that’s within the realm of what most people would call “fucked up”, get people interested in the dynamic, and then ultimately brutally punish the characters involved to drive home the point that These People Are Bad, They Have Done Bad Things (ask me why i stopped watching game of thrones for an egregious example of this) 

and at the beginning of killing eve, i wasn’t even convinced that they were going to write eve and villanelle as a romantic storyline. obviously they were implying that there was mutual attraction, but i didn’t believe until 2x07 that they were actually going to go somewhere with it...and then they basically pulled a version of what i described above by showing eve being punished for her attraction to villanelle by being shot and left for dead because of it 

so my prediction for season 3 was (pessimistically) that they were going to shove eve back on the righteous path, still obsessed with villanelle but now only in a revenge fashion. boring. i’m here for fucked-up women in love. 

but instead, they showed us (TOO LITTLE OF) a really fascinating conflict; eve understands that she is still infatuated with villanelle (like right from episode 1), and is both disgusted and terrified by it at the beginning of season 3--but when it came right down to it, she defended villanelle, she wanted to protect her, and she chose her.

the message i got from season 3 (for all its many faults) basically boiled down to: these two women are a powder keg and a lit fuse when they’re together, but it’s even worse when they’re apart. and their choice to end s3 the way they did, overtly romantic with no violence between them, makes me think that the show’s not going to take the didactic route and kill them or have them kill each other to make a point. and if they do, i’d be really unhappy because they’ve laid the foundations for a much more interesting and complex narrative. i wouldn’t even necessarily be upset if they were both dead at the end (storytelling-wise, i’d DEFINITELY be upset emotionally because i love them and they deserve to shack up in a penthouse apartment somewhere) so long as it didn’t feel like the writers pointing at the audience and saying “see??? haha! they were fucked up all along!”

what does a happy ending look like for the two of them? i have no idea. i think i had a clearer vision of the type of future i wanted for them before they kind of softened out villanelle (which i think was kind of lazy, but whatever). but i think there’s definitely room for them to end the series happy, in their own way. 

#i've never made one iota of sense but 10% of my brain is occupied by killing eve thoughts always #killing eve #villaneve #villanelle #eve polastri #anonymous #angelic asks

[kananjarus]

god i think i’m literally going to lose my mind. the paper that i just spent four days writing is almost twice as long as it should be but god forbid i’m going to spend MORE time figuring out how to shorten it. jesus christ this assignment was already impossible from the jump and my professor is so nit picky i’m worried that she’ll dock points for being over the page limit which is the dumbest thing ever but one professor has already told other students off for it so!!! sorry! i can’t help it if i’m wordy and need to shorten 26000 years of history into a couple of paragraphs!!!! fuck!!!

#my brain #is so tired #can i just be done with this ughhhhh #t

[animebw]

Binge-Reading: Fate/Stay Night VN, Heaven’s Feel Day 21

In which we’re slapped with one of the most ludicrous exposition dumps I think I’ve ever seen, for better and worse.

Stopping Point: Sakura’s Arrival

Overload

I’ve talked a lot in the past about the problems I have with Nasu’s writing style. It’s overly wordy, overly detailed, says the same thing four times when it could just say it once, and often relies on concepts so absurdly complicated that trying to wrap your head around them is like trying to wrestle a tiger in a vat of jello. Considering it’s the kind of flaw that’s just sort of always there in the background, I’ve tried to keep from talking about it too much. Otherwise, these posts would get repetitive real fast. But Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t think it’s ever been as overwhelming as it is here. In the middle of day fifteen, during the cooldown from the forest battle, Ilya proceeds to disgorge an exposition dump upon Shirou and the audience the likes of which I’ve almost never seen. It dives into the deepest mythology of the holy grail war, explaining every last detail about its backstory and how the present situation has come to be, wrapping up every long-standing mystery and lore question in one fell swoop. And it is simultaneously the single coolest and the single most exhausting exposition dump in this entire VN, possibly of all time. It rattles off some of the coolest conceptual ideas this story’s given us yet and goes in trippy, insane, fantastically bugnuts directions, but the overbearing prose make it hands-down the hardest chunk of this story to get through yet. Mother of god, this was Fate/Zero episode 1 levels of information overload. I could feel my consciousness literally oozing out of my ears as I tried to stay focused throughout the entire massive block of text. Somehow, in a route that’s included horrifying sexual assault imagery, crushing emotional torment and some of the grossest, most gag-inducing portrayals of horror and violence yet, this fucking lead brick of an infodump is what I had the hardest time getting through. Nasu, seriously, whatever project you do next, get yourself an editor. Find someone you trust who’s willing to go through your work and say, “okay, but let’s see if we can cut this down by half without losing anything of value.” I promise, your storytelling will only benefit from it.

Mindfuck

Okay. Rant over. Now let’s actually talk about that crazy, overwhelming chunk of information Ilya just lay on us, because it’s a fucking doozy. It’s officially confirmed that the true purpose of the Holy Grail War was so that the three mage families- Tohsaka, Einzbern, and Makiri- could summon enough mana to break the shell of reality and reach the outer plane of existence, where I guess cool magic shit goes down or whatever. To that end, it actually involves two grails: the Tohsaka’s Great Holy Grail, which is basically a magic circle to consolidate mana, and the Einzbern’s Holy Grail, which is the key that uses that mana to unlock the door to the Outside, as it were. The Great Grail gathers mana over time, and every sixty years or so it gathers enough mana to summon heroic spirits to full up the Holy Grail. All this nonsense about masters and servants is completely arbitrary: the summoned heroic spirits are all that’s needed to power the grail. The masters are expendable from the moment the servants are summoned. All the charade of the war does is make it easier for the mage families: they can rope in outsiders to help them summon the spirits, and then the rules of the war give them a perfect excuse to treat those outsiders as enemies they can kill to keep them from reaching the prize themselves. And, of course, the lie that the Holy Grail can grant any wish is the perfect bait to lure the heroic spirits themselves into accepting the summons. They show up ready to fight for their wishes, unaware their real purpose is to be killed and used for fuel.

So that itself is already insane. But where things really pop off is the explanation of what’s actually going on with Sakura. See, you might remember that the Holy Grail is currently tainted by some dark power, and that power is manifesting in Sakura as her evil shadow because Zouken stuck a shard of it in her. Well, this dark power? Is actually an eight goddamn servant: Avenger. Angra Mainyu, the name of the primordial devil in ancient mythology representative of all the evils in the world. In times long, long ago, a real person was forced to bear that name by a small culture obsessed with the need to live good lives. So they thought, if they sacrificed one person to bear the sins of all humanity, they could cleanse the entire race and let them all live good lives. So this sacrifice was emblazoned with all the evil in the world, cursed as a devil but also treated as a hero for “saving” everyone else from sin. Of course, that’s not how anything works; making someone be All the Evil doesn’t stop you, yourself, from being evil. But you try telling that to people 6,000 years ago and see how far you get. So Angra Mainyu was tortured and shunned, but still respected enough as a hero to be summonable as a heroic spirit. And that’s exactly who the Einzberns summoned in the third war, because they were tired of losing and wanted a trump card that would lead them to victory.

Unfortunately, they made one miscalculation; back then, Mainyu was just an ordinary man. They were forced into the role of hero against their will, with no real power to back it up. So he was easily defeated. It was only once he was defeated and swallowed by the grail that thins changed. Because he wasn’t just a normal human; he was the living embodiment of humanity’s wishes, made to bear their selfish desires and become an avatar of their hopes. And what is the Holy Grail, if not the granter of wishes? So within the grail’s overflowing mana, Mainyu became a true heroic spirit at last, with all the power that entails and all the hatred of thousands of years of misery at the hands of his fellow man. This is the shadow that’s corrupted the grail. This is the darkness that spilled out when Kiritsugu destroyed it ten years ago. This is the being that’s living in Sakura’s shadow. And this is the dark embryo we’ve seen when Shirou is swallowed by that shadow, pulsing with a desire to break free. Angra Mainyu is the darkness of the Holy Grail, straining to be born into the world so it can wreak its vengeance upon all it sees. And should Sakura’s metaphorical womb finally give it birth, there’s no telling the kind of catastrophe it’ll be able to unleash.

Heaven’s Feel

Wow. Just... fucking wow. I don’t there’s been a wilder twist in this entire VN. Angra Mainyu and everything surrounding him is the glue that ties everything together. He’s a force of pure spite magnifying Sakura’s own resentment toward the world that abandoned her, their mutual agonies fusing together into a single desire to punish those who’ve wronged them. He’s the reason Kirei was just able to survive Assassin’s attack: after Kiritsugu blew his heart out in the last war, Mainyu’s black tar took its place once Gilgamesh bathed in it. He’s been living with a heart made of solidified malice for the past ten years, and that makes him immune to the dark warrior’s noble phantasm. But it also makes him succeptable to a newly reborn Sakura who wields Mainyu’s power in her own hands; what the grail giveth, the grail taketh away. And let me tell you, it is fucking sick watching Sakura finally give voice to the fury she’s kept repressed for so long. There’s a particular moment when she’s tearing into Kirei and drops one of the coolest lines in the entire VN: ”I wonder what kind of face the people who haven’t helped me will make when they realize I exist.” Sakura is done hiding in the shadows and accepting the cruelties of others; now, with fresh new white hair and a pitch-black dress, she’s ready to answer Mainyu’s anger with her own, to punish everyone who caused them pain, to tear down a world that allowed them to suffer unspeakable horrors in silence and self-loathing.

And that’s all before we finally get back to that title drop: Heaven’s Feel. One of a scant few miraculous magical feats, a spell for creating a higher being that’s capable of interaction with the physical world. Perhaps this is what Einzbern has been searching for all this time. Perhaps this is the true end goal of a millennium of searching, of five long, futile wars fought by people with no knowledge of the system they were trapped in. The grail itself cannot perform such a miracle, but perhaps it can create a being who can. Should Avenger finally break free from its Lovecraftian egg, surely it would have the strength to make that miracle manifest. That’s what Zouken’s counting on, at least. That’s what Kirei’s hoping will happen. And that’s what Shirou has no choice but to stop. To which all I can say is: good fucking luck. You’re gonna need it.

Odds and Ends

-”You earned your life with your own hands.” Holy shit. There’s still some of Saber in there after all.

-Of course he watched Lancer die just to gather intel on his enemy. Never change, Kirei.

-”But the more the woman tried to cure him, the more he wanted to see her grieve.” Jesus, dude. That’s why you don’t rely on romance to fill the void in your soul

-Um, why was the music skipping all over the place there? That was weird.

-Oooh, it’s because his sense of time is all out of whack and it’s terrifying as fuck. Naturally.

-”So I can’t just die selfishly.” Good luck with that tbh.

-”I’m glad to know you’re worrying about me.” OH MY FUCKING GOD RIN I MISSED YOU

Good lord, my head needs a break. See you next time!

#anime #the anime binge-watcher #tabw #Fate/stay night #fate vn #fate hf #heaven's feel #shirou emiya #rin tohsaka #sakura matou #saber

[commanderadorkable]

I'm finally sitting down to write my fic! I wasn't tagged by anyone but I'm sharing anyway. This was the *second* scene I wrote for the story. I'm still working out major plots and stuffs.

I don't know who to tag as everyone I know has posted their wips already. 🤣 It’s under the cut cause apparently I’m wordy.

I walked up to Cullen’s office door and lightly knocked. I don’t know why I still knock. He’s asked me about three hundred times to not bother...it still seems rude though.

To just walk into someone’s office slash bedroom without knocking?

I felt even worse since it was well past dinner and I didn’t want to wake him if he had managed to go to bed early.

“Come in.” I heard Cullen say muffled through the door. I opened the door and walked in to find Cullen sitting at his desk,  trying to shave by candle light. He was hunched over in front of a small mirror. On either side of the mirror were multiple candles for light. It still didn’t seem like enough light to shave by. And from how low the candles were burning, it seemed he had been at this for awhile.

He wasn’t in his usual attire, which was kind of surprising. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d seen this man without his furry mane...and that included in game cutscenes.

Tonight he just wore a plain linen shirt and, I assumed, plain trousers. He could be pantsless for all I knew.

Ooooh. Stop it, brain! “Oof. That can’t be easy. Why don’t you do that in the morning? You'd have more natural light when the sun comes up” I asked looking at him.

The razor paused on his cheek and he looked up at me. Surprise and possibly excitement flicked across his face. But just as quickly his face returned to his perpetually exhausted look. Laying the razor down he let out a long sigh and spoke. “The Ambassador informed me at dinner this evening that the Advisors had an early meeting with some nobles that I needed to attend. I wouldn’t have the time between running drills and getting to the meeting.”

I could hear his voice dripping with disdain when he mentioned the nobles and it made me smile. I placed my hands on my hips and walked towards his desk. As I got closer I saw that he was bleeding in quite a few spots. He moved to continue shaving and I saw that his hands were shaking quite a bit.

That would explain all the nicks. Poor man.

“I don’t know what Thedosian propriety law this would break, but would you like some help?” I asked him, hopefully.

He chuckled and stared at me for a moment. Likely contemplating what kind of scandal this may cause if someone were to walk in to catch us. Resigned he said, “I’m sure you would do a much finer job than I could at present.”

I came around to his side of the desk and took stock of what had been done. There were more cuts than what I previously saw and frowned at him.

"I may take away your straight razor privileges, good ser."

I'm fairly certain the Commander just rolled his eyes at me.

I absentmindedly traced my finger across his cheek taking inventory.

I turned and grabbed the clean washcloth from his desk. I started to dab at the cuts to help staunch some of the worst bleeding.

Then I remembered that I had some fancy new healing magic!

Man, this will never get old. Thanks, Thedas!

“Do you mind if I use some magic to heal these?” I asked, pointing to the little blood spots.

He waved his hand, “Go ahead.”

I hovered my right hand over the right side of his chin and cheek.  I concentrated on healing the small cuts I saw. The faint blue light coming from my hand was always unnerving, but I ignored it and focused on what I was doing.  I was extra careful to avoid the scar on his lip. I definitely didn’t want that to disappear.

Moving my hand as each one disappeared, I continued to move upwards until I reached his temple.

More than once our eyes met and I'd lose my concentration.

Mental note to start training with Solas more.

When I got him all patched up, I grabbed his razor and moved around his chair to his left side. It seemed the straight razors in Thedas weren’t too terribly different than back home. I was silently thankful the few times Derek asked me to help him shave with a straight razor.

I frowned at the memory.

I gently tilted Cullen’s head over to the right so I could see his neck and face better. He closed his eyes and allowed his shoulders to relax.

I noticed his pulse in his neck quicken when I touched him. Mine mirrored his and I had to take a couple steadying breaths.

I groaned internally and tried to distract myself from THAT train of thought.

“Are your withdrawals getting worse?” I asked gently.

Without moving he answered, “Unfortunately, yes. First it starts with the headaches then the nausea. Then usually by the end of the day my hands are shaking too badly to be of much use. If Josephine hadn’t informed me of this meeting, I wouldn’t have bothered with this.”

He gestured to his face with a wave of his hand.

I nodded, not knowing what to say. Then I realized his eyes were still closed.

“Ah. Makes sense.” I continued to work methodically over his neck and face. Taking the razor from his neck over his jaw and up his cheek.

Being this close to him was unnerving. It’s one thing to sit close during a chess game...there’s the board between us to make it seem not so intimate.

But shaving him as I was, afforded me the opportunity to really study his face. How often do I get to stare at his face and not get caught? I smiled like a little girl with her first crush.

I could see the bags under his eye from the lack of sleep. The poor man probably only slept a few hours each night. Then managed to run an entire army to save the world. I don’t know how he did it. I turned into a diva if I didn't get at least 6 hours of sleep.

I could see the wrinkles in his forehead from his perma scowl. I would imagine running on no sleep would make everything seem like a nuisance. Coupled with the constant headaches and nausea. I could see how people found him intimidating to be around. I’d probably be counted among them if I didn’t know how...soft he could be when he let the Commander façade down.

I could also see the scar on his lip that seemed to pull his mouth into smirk every once in a while. I always wondered how he had gotten that scar. He didn’t have it in Kirkwall...or at least wasn’t portrayed as having the scar prior to the rebellion. Maybe I’ll ask him about it one day.

But touching his neck and face… having my face mere inches away from his...watching his pulse go erratic every time I moved my hand...hear his breathing hitch...

Baby Jesus, have mercy on my soul.

I had to stop thinking this way. We were friends...nothing more. We couldn’t be more. I’m pretty sure he’s got a thing for the Inquisitor anyway. Plus, Arry and I are out of here at the first chance we get. We just had to figure out how to get home...bah.

Did I really want to leave? Even more, did Arry want to leave? I hadn't specifically asked her...and she had been spending quite a bit more time with Rylen lately.

Ugh, dammit.

I continued to work slowly. I absolutely didn’t want to be the one responsible for marring this pretty face. I’m pretty sure the fan club that he had amassed at his morning drill sessions would come for me. Pitchforks and all.

As I continued, I could feel his face and neck heating up. I imagined he was starting to blush, but the light was too dim to see it.  

When I finally finished with the razor, I wiped it off on the cloth laying on his desk and folded the razor back up and laid it gently next to the mirror. I grabbed another clean cloth to remove the remaining shaving cream left behind on his face, pleased to see that I hadn’t nicked him at all.

I studied him for just a moment longer. His breathing had grown steady and I was reasonably sure he was on the verge of falling asleep.

“Cullen”, I whispered and nudged him gently on the shoulder.

His eyes popped open and he looked like he forgot what was going on.   “All done.” I smiled at him.

I stood back a couple steps while he tilted his neck from side to side to stretch it out and examined my handy work in the small mirror before him. “I must say, Lady Elaine, I’m rather impressed.” His lip quirked as he looked back up at me.

I snorted “I couldn’t very well let you cut up that pretty face before a big meeting with the nobles. How would that make the Inquisition look? Hm?”

Fuck me, did I just say that?!

He, thankfully, didn’t seem to notice. Or at least didn’t let on that he noticed.

“Fair point.”

“And how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me ‘Lady’?” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Likely about as many times as I will have to ask you to stop knocking on my door and just come in.” Cullen deadpanned.

I narrowed my eyes at him, “...touché, Rutherford.”

He chuckled and stood to start clearing off his desk. I saw he was in fact not pantsless at all and wearing a pair of plain leather trousers with only his socks on. “Elaine, did you need me for something?”

“What? Oh, uh, it's nothing actually.” I shrugged.

“Ah.” He looked a little disappointed.

The silence was uncomfortable. Probably because I was making it so. I’d never been one for silence. Plus the fact that I had just been TOUCHING HIS FACE… Internally I screamed.

“Well, I should get goin’ and leave you to it. G’night, Cullen.” I turned towards the door to leave. I had made it across his office and my hand on the handle when he called out to me. 

“Elaine.”

“Hm?” “Do you...do you by chance have any more of that salve you gave me before? For the headaches... What do you call it...the Ice and Hot salve?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck. I laughed. “Icy Hot? Yes, I’d be happy to make more for you tomorrow and bring it to our game.”

“Perfect” He smiled at me then. Jesus H Roosevelt Christ...if I wasn’t careful I’d immolate on the spot.

I cleared my throat, “G’night, Cullen.” “Goodnight, Lady Elaine”

I stuck my tongue out at him and turned to leave his office.

#my ocs #mgit #modern girls in thedas #yes they are sisters #cullen rutherford #cullen #commander cullen #dragon age inquisition #dragon age fic #all the fluff #two dorks in love #modern girl in thedas #WIP Wednesday #work in progress

[marinaaniseed]

Dark ‘n’ Stormy Pt.6

Just over 5,000 wordy words. I decided to split this chapter in two because it would be unwieldy otherwise. No smut (!) in this chapter. Thor and the reader get ready to go out for dinner. Contains more discussion on clothing than was probably necessary. And a smidge of Asgardian politics. OH WELL.

Come mid-afternoon, you’d managed to complete your tasks, which was easier said than done when Thor tried to nuzzle up to you every time you were even vaguely still. You went back to his bedroom and changed into your clothes, turning your knickers inside out.

“Is it ok if I go back to mine and change my clothes?” you said as you walked back into the sitting room.

“Of course. Perhaps I could go with you?” he suggested. It had been a while since he’d ventured out further than his garden but he wanted to spend more time with you. You nodded and waited for him to get dressed. He shuffled out in his oversized hoodie and slipped on his Crocs.

“Ready?” you asked.

“Indeed I am.”

He took your hand as you walked back to your hut. He hoped you’d find it romantic but he was mostly holding onto you because he was scared. It had been so long since he’d been around ordinary Asgardians. He didn’t want to disappoint them any more than he already had.

You didn’t pass too many people on your stride of pride but those who did see you tried to hide their shock. You didn’t blame them. It wasn’t exactly hard to piece together the cause of the unusual weather. Coupled with seeing Thor out and about, and holding hands with Midgardian, it was probably the last thing any of them expected to see on a Tuesday afternoon as the sun was starting to go down.

“I won’t take long,” you said as you approached the hut. “Then I can head back and start prepping for dinner.”

“We could just bring all of your stuff to mine, then you wouldn’t have to keep coming back here.”

“I understand where you’re coming from, Thor, but as fun as mixing business and pleasure is, we should try to separate things. It’s hard enough to get any work done as it is.”

“But you wouldn’t have to do any work. I don’t want my girlfriend tidying up after me all of the time.”

“Girlfriend?” you queried, eyebrows arched. Oh Norns, no, Thor thought. He hadn’t meant to scare you off. He blushed deep scarlet and stared at the ground, wishing he could fall through one of Strange’s portals like Loki had all those years ago in New York. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times but no words came out.

“Was that...was that your way of asking me?” you asked, trying to make it less awkward.

“Um...yeah?”

“You’ll have to take me out on a date before I consider agreeing.”

“Um, yes a date. Like dinner?”

“Yes, dinner is good.”

“Dinner tonight?”

“That works for me.”

“Right, yes. Dinner tonight. I will meet you here at eight,” he said, bringing your hand to his lips for a kiss before almost running back to his cabin. You let yourself into the hut and fell back against the door. Ah fuck.

No. This was not good. Fucking was good but dates and emotional stuff? Dear God, no. You couldn’t go through that again. You needed to talk to someone. You grabbed your laptop and opened Skype. Thank fuck. Sam was online.

“Yo,” you typed.

“Y R U typing? Call me like a normal person,” came the reply. Before you could do anything, the Skype call tune sounded and you grudgingly accepted the call. You knew you looked a mess but not accepting and turning on the camera would make Sam suspicious.

“Jesus Christ, y/n. What happened to your neck? Do they have vampires where you are?” Sam exclaimed, trying not to laugh.

“Hmm, yes very good. Why aren’t you at work?”

“I went to a gig last night, took a day off to recover.”

“You’re getting old. Who’d you see?”

“And you’re deflecting. Belinda Carlisle.”

“She’s still alive?”

“She is now. Anyway, what or who happened to you?”

“Someone.”

“Clearly. You look like you just did the walk of shame.”

“Walk of fame. Or stride of pride. You know me, I own my encounters.”

“Aha, so you did get laid. Nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did. So what’s up? You’ve got a face like a cat’s arse and you won’t give me the gossip.”

“We’re going on a date. Tonight.”

“And you don’t want to?”

“I do...and I don’t. It’s scary and it’s weird and…”

“And you haven’t been on a date since Alex.”

“...no.”

“That’s a stumbling block you need to get past. Or over. Or hell, crawl underneath it. You are wasting years of your life, out of guilt. If it had been the other way round, you wouldn’t want Alex to pine after for you forever, to grow old and die without falling in love again, would you?”

“No…” Sam wasn’t wrong but it wasn’t easy to hear it.

“Give this mystery bitey person a go. It might be great. In terms of your neck, you essentially have two choices. Style it out and show off those bites, or cover them up. With clothing this time.”

“Look, I only put foundation on that one time. It was my first day, I didn’t want to make a bad impression.”

“Yeah, because foundation staining the collar of your shirt was so much better.”

“Any other words of advice or are you just going to dredge up past mistakes?”

“Yeah, wear the bitch boots.”

“No can do, they’re in storage.”

“Well, if you told me where you are I could put them in my luggage and bring them to you, along with a whole bunch of your shit.”

“I prefer to be nomadic for now, but I appreciate the sentiment. I guess I should start figuring out what to wear.”

“Alright, good to see you too. It’s been emotional, as ever.”

The call ended and you burst into tears.

*****

Thor stomped back like he was marching into battle, startling seagulls and people alike. He grabbed his phone a punched in a message to Brunnhilde. He didn’t want to call in case he interrupted important kingly business. Midgardian tech was too fiddly for him, it was embarrassing how long it took to write four letters: HELP.

Now that he had time to think, he was regretting offering to take you out for dinner. He remembered all too painfully his first encounter in a Midgardian dining establishment. Were his manners ok? He knew more about Midgard now but he knew that different places within the realm had different customs. He didn’t want to upset or offend you. But you’d eaten with him before, and that had been fine...but it wasn’t in public. And where did people go for dinner in New Asgard? Was there anywhere? Food always came to him, not the other way round. He knew from the other Avengers that you were supposed to look and smell nice on these occasions but what should he wear? He’d had some great clothes but that was before...he went to the fridge and grabbed a beer, trying to calm down.

He was several beers in by the time Brunnhilde arrived.

“Where’s y/n?” she inquired. “What’s wrong? Do I need to hunt her down?”

Thor wasn’t sure why his friends kept offering to fight you on his behalf. Not that he would, but he was more than capable of fighting you. It was good to know that they had his back, he supposed.

“She went home to change. We’re going out for dinner tonight,” he smiled, despite his nerves.

“Wrong way round there, loverboy, you’re supposed to take her out for dinner before you impale her with your pork sword.”

Thor doesn’t entirely understand what the Valkyrie just said, but he knows it’s rude.

“You’re-you’re not helping,” he replied, grabbing another beer. He’d been much better lately, drinking less.

“Can’t help if I don’t know what the problem is,” Brunnhilde answered, accepting the beer that Thor offered. Seeing that Thor was struggling to articulate himself, the Valkyrie tried to prompt him. “You’re banging a Midgardian. You’ve done that before, so that’s not it. Likewise, this is not the first time you’ve shagged a servant, sorry, employee. You’ve courted people before, right?”

“Ish. Yeah. Sorta. Not for a long time...it was different. I didn’t really have to try.”

“Because you were the pretty prince, so you could have who you wanted, when you wanted them?”

“Ow. That’s not very nice,” Thor said, wincing at the vague memories of various tumbles.

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” Thor shook his head, unable to look her in the eye. “Well, y/n obviously thinks you’re pretty. Or handsome. Whatever. Don’t need to be a scientist like Banner to work that one out. And you’re still a prince, uncoronated king actually-”

“No, you’re king.”

“Yeah, no. I’m regent. And even that is barely tolerated by the people. We’re gonna have to talk about that soon, but not now. Y/N thinks you’re attractive, you’re still royalty, so you’ve got that going for you. God of thunder, Avenger, hero-”

“-hairy fat dude.”

“Technically, yes, but please refer to my first point.” It’s exasperating for the Valkyrie. She wants to help Thor but he still hasn’t told her what the problem is.

“Well, I said we’d go out for dinner but I don’t know where we can go. And I’m worried there’s a whole bunch of MIdagrdian etiquette that I don’t know and I’ll look stupid and I’ll embarrass her. And I don’t know what to wear. And, and, and…” he trailed off.

“Right ok. I’m guessing you’d rather stay in New Asgard?”

Thor nods.

“We have a tavern. A pub. Bar. Drinking establishment. It’s called The Crown,” she explained.

“The Crown? Why’s it called that.”

“The people looked into Midgardian tavern names. ‘The Crown’ signifies loyalty to the monarchy. They thought it was appropriate.”

Thor could feel his shame washing back over him. He’d abandoned his people and all the while they’d named a tavern to show their loyalty to him. He didn’t want to think about what his future chat with Brunnhilde about the leadership of New Asgard would entail. Even if he was forced to be king, he didn’t think there was anything he could do to make up for his years of neglect.

“Anyway, they do food at The Crown. Perhaps you could go there?”

A tavern didn’t seem like the ideal place, he would’ve loved to have taken you somewhere more illustrious, but he didn’t think he was up to leaving New Asgard.

“Asgardian food?” he asked hopefully.

“In a manner of speaking. Some Asgardian foods just aren’t available on Midgard.”

That was a shame but hopefully, he could introduce you to some Asgardian dishes. If, you know, you wanted to try them.

“In terms of Midgardian etiquette, you know as much as I do. I guess if you’re unsure about something, you could ask y/n? Go have a shower, clean your teeth and we’ll figure out what you should wear.”

*****

Having let it all out, you realised you needed to start preparing for your dinner with Thor. He was obviously nervous about asking you and you didn’t want to disappoint him. Looking at your meagre supply of clothing, you realised that none of it was really appropriate for a date. It was all just very practical. Hmm. You’d seen the Asgardians wearing a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar clothing. They couldn’t have taken that much with them when they escaped, which meant there must be a shop or something, right? You decided to investigate New Asgard. If there wasn’t anything, you’d walk to Tønsberg.

It took a little bit of wandering but eventually, you found a street with a few shops. There was one with dresses and fabrics in the window and you cautiously entered. The woman in the shop seemed startled by you, clutching her notepad to her chest.

“Oh my goodness, hello, are you lost?” she asked.

“No? I was hoping that maybe this was a shop that sells clothing?”

“Yes, it is. My apologies...it’s just that I've never had a customer from Midgard before.”

“That’s quite alright. Erm…” you realised at this point that the Valkyrie had never told you which currency they used in New Asgard. “Ah, I realise this is a little awkward but which forms of payment do you accept?”

“Which ones do you have?”

You opened up your purse. You had your bank cards and a wedge of colourful Norwegian krone notes. You didn’t see any evidence of a card machine so you hoped that krone was accepted.

“Mostly just Norwegian krone.” You knew you had some shrapnel from other countries but that hadn’t been worth changing up and would be unlikely to help here.

“Oh yes, Norwegian money is fine,” the woman enthused “but are you sure? I mean it’s not far to Tønsberg.”

“No, no - you have beautiful things in your window. And I’d prefer to find something here, if possible, rather than give my money to one of the fast-fashion chains,” you said, trying to reassure her. The woman nodded.

“What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Well, I’m going out for dinner this evening, so I was hoping to find something appropriate.”

“Oh, is this with the prince...I mean the king?”

Word apparently travels fast, you thought, feeling your cheeks burn. You nodded, looking at the floor. The woman clapped her hands with glee and grabbed a tape measure, practically bounding towards you.

“May I?” she asked. “We do not use dress sizes like your people do...let me take your measurements and then I can work out what I have that might fit.”

You weren’t exactly keen on being measured, putting a number to the different parts of you, but this seemed like a good system. Much better than trying to work out whether a shop’s sizing runs big or small. The woman made a series of notes on her pad.

“Follow me,” she said, leading you into another room. The was an oaken settee topped with plush cushions, as well as several full-length mirrors.

“Please take a seat,” the woman gestured to the chair. “I will return shortly.”

You sat down, fiddling with the ends of your sleeves, beginning to regret this. Would you like the clothing that she recommended? Could you afford it? Would Thor think you were being weird? Maybe you should’ve just gone to H&M.

The woman returned with several garments, hanging them from a series of hooks on the back of the door.

“These are the ones that should fit you, I hope there is something here to your liking. Which would you like to try on first?”

You had no idea. In truth, you had no idea what kind of style would suit you.

“I guess we could work out way along, starting from the left?”

“Of course.” The woman went over to bring you the first outfit. It was a cherry red hooded dress, with an embroidered lace panel and billowy sleeves. You undressed, realising that the woman meant to help you. You noticed her staring as you stood there in your underwear.

“Apologies, I did not mean to offend,” she said, averting her gaze. “I just have not seen undergarments in this style before. Are they typical of Midgard?”

You looked at yourself in the mirror. The blue floral t-shirt bra was probably more colourful than standard but otherwise typical, at least for Europe. Before you’d left Thor’s, you’d flipped your knickers inside out. You’d forgotten about that. But there they were. Golden yellow bikini briefs, tag out at the back. You hoped the woman couldn’t see the gusset stains. At this rate, it’d be a minor miracle if you even made it to dinner instead of imploding for embarrassment. You could see your cheeks were trying to match the dress. Oh god, oh god, oh god. The lovebites. The bruises. You were only now getting the full picture, thanks to the mirrors. Fucking hell.

“Please do not feel uncomfortable,” the woman said with a reassuring smile. “We Asgardians are not as shy about our bodies or the pleasures we get from them, as your people are. I am glad that his majesty is finding comfort outside of his flagon. Perhaps he will become well again and begin to notice his people more.”

You sensed that she probably wanted to say more but didn’t out of tact. You allowed her to dress you, lacing the garment at the back.

“What do you think?” she asked, nervously.

“It’s beautiful but I think it would be difficult for me to master the lacing. It’s not really a feature of the clothes I’m used to,” you explained. She nodded and helped you undress before moving onto the next option. This dress was bare-shouldered, in ochre and terracotta linen, with the billowy sleeves again. There was no lacing as the back, instead, a leather belt cinched you in the keep everything in place. You stood staring at your reflection, the bra straps somewhat ruining the look.

“This is not for you either. I can tell by your face,” the woman interrupted your thoughts. You didn’t want to hurt her feelings but you were beginning to panic that you might not find anything you liked.

You tried on several more outfits including a cream linen dress (“I will definitely stain this with dinner”) a beige dress that laced up at the front (“Too long, I’ll end up tripping over it”) and a black dress with built-in fingerless gloves (“I would feel rude wearing gloves at dinner”).

You were down to the final garment and you were beginning to panic, wondering how low long you’d been there and when would the shops shut in Tønsberg.

It was another linen dress, this time in black, with beautiful gold embroidered details on the balloon style sleeves, which were attached to the shoulders of the dress with eyelet lacing. The ribbon corset lacing detail to each side of the dress accentuated your waist, while the scoop neckline showed just the right amount of cleavage. Better still, the skirt came to just below your ankle, so it wouldn’t drag along the ground.

“Ah, I love this,” you said, admiring yourself in the different mirrors. “Knocking ‘em cold in black and gold.”

“Pardon?”

“Oh! It’s a lyric from a song.”

“What is the name of this song?”

“I don’t remember,” you lied. There was no way you were going to explain Sex Dwarf, or Soft Cell, to an Asgardian. Where would you even begin? You began undressing, working up the courage to ask how much it was.

“How much is this dress?” you queried, fearful that you wouldn’t be able to afford it.

“For you, on this occasion, I will let you have it for free.”

“No, no you can’t do that. I must pay you for your work,” you panicked.

“What is your name, my dear?”

“Y/N,” you stuttered.

“Y/N. My name is Lorelei. I have lived a long time but these last few years feel as though they have lasted for centuries. It has been hard for us all. I believe you are here among us to change our fortunes for the better. I saw you walking with him earlier. I have not seen him so happy in such a long time. It is my hope that your love for him will restore his health and restore him to our people so that he can lead us as he is supposed to. I give you this dress in the hope that you will help to make Asgard a proud people again. If I am right, this would be but a small token of thanks.”

And if you’re wrong? You wondered. This was a lot of pressure. Love? Leadership? She couldn’t seriously be eying you up as queen? As Thor’s wife? Christ. You’d only just met the guy.

“I...thank you. This is so generous and kind of you. Perhaps we can come to a compromise and you will allow me to purchase some accessories from you?”

“Yes, I will agree to that. Come, let me show you what I have.”

*****

Thor was showered and cleaned his teeth, just as the Valkyrie had instructed.

“What do you think I should wear?” he asked her. “These Midgardian clothes are made for comfort, not courting. That much I know. Do you think my armour would be too much?”

“Yes, definitely. You’re not going into battle. What do your Avenger friends wear on such occasions?”

Thor sat down in his towel next to the Valkyrie. Loki had worn a black suit when they’d been in New York. That had made him look like a witch. Actually, his friends often wore suits too. Or armour. Or costumes. Bucky wore a lot of leather...no, that wouldn’t work either.

“They wear a lot of suits...Stark kept good company...”

“Well, it says here on GQ ‘Don't wear a suit unless your date is somewhere incredibly swanky.’ We don’t have anywhere incredibly swanky around here, so I think you’ll be alright,” the Valkyrie said, looking up from her phone.

“That’s good. Last time I wore a suit was Stark’s funeral…”

“Ok, a suit is definitely out. You don’t want to be reminded of sad things. And don’t wear the Crocs, either.”

“Why not? They’re comfy.”

“Because a lot of Midgardians think they’re unattractive. Look,” she said, holding up her phone to show Thor the Facebook page called ‘I Dont care How Comfortable Crocs Are, You Look Like A Dumbass.’

“Oh, I see,” he said, a little deflated. “I still want to be comfortable though.”

“Yes, that’s a good idea. What are you comfortable wearing?”

“Well, I liked my jeans but I can’t fit into them anymore,” he explained, staring at the floor. Why had he asked you out for dinner? This was a stupid idea. He was stupid.

“Hey, I heard about how you just changed into your armour on the battlefield. Couldn’t you just do that but the other way round? I mean it just magically fit you, right?”

“I…” he hadn’t even considered that as an option. “I’d need to use my lightning. You told me not to do that anymore.”

“Can you do it without causing a storm?” asked Brunnhilde, hopeful of a way to get Thor out of his current mental rut.

“Yes, perhaps. Let me grab Stormbreaker.”

Before Brunnhilde could stop him, he was out in the garden in his towel, tapping the handle of his axe into the ground.

*** Back in the cabin, you enjoyed your second shower of the day before getting ready for your dinner with Thor. Although you’d been in colder climes for a while, your skin still disliked it, and you made sure to moisturise liberally. Rifling through your clothes, you soon found the black lace bra and matching shorts. It was the only matching set of underwear you had left, and you couldn’t remember why you’d bought it, but you were glad you had. New, Midgardian, underwear would need to go on the shopping list. The shorts had built-in suspender straps and you carefully rolled your lace top stockings up your legs. Tights would’ve been warmer, for sure, but you disliked how sweaty your crotch got while wearing them.

You slipped into the dress you’d bought earlier, pulling the side lacing tight. In hindsight, it was too much, but your magpie tendencies had taken over. That and the panic of having nothing to wear. Hopefully, Thor would appreciate your attempt at integrating with the local populace. A little black dress was traditional for a date...this one just wasn’t so little. You’d also purchased burgundy hooded wool cloak, with edged with a golden braid and fastened with a gold clasp. Lorelei had assured you it would keep you warm but in all honesty, you’d snuggle up to Thor for warmth, you just really wanted a cloak.

It was fascinating to hear Lorelei talk of her work and that of some of the Asgardian women. Many of them had continued their former trades of weaving, felting, tanning, embroidery, and lacemaking. They wanted to preserve their heritage. But it was hard. They’d all been set up with bank accounts and a small amount of money when they arrived. Nobody really traded with New Asgard and a lot of the money left the local economy and was spent in Norway instead. And it seemed as though Thor wasn’t the only one drowning his sorrows. That made sense. You knew enough about the world to know that substance abuse was often seen in communities that had lost their sense of purpose, their heritage.

Your makeup collection was sparse, certainly compared to what you’d had, but you kept a supply for those times when you needed a professional face. Once the base was on, you tried to decide whether you wanted a bold eye or lip colour. Certainly not both. You wanted to show Thor a more polished version of yourself, not be unrecognisable to him. You spotted the crimson matte lipstick. Of course. A pop of colour to match Thor’s cloak.. You applied your eye makeup - gold eyeshadow, black mascara and eyeliner - struggling to keep your hand steady as the excitement began to kick in. You applied a layer of concealer to your lips before applying your lipstick, blotting, and then applying a second coat.

After styling your hair, you looked at the few pieces of jewellery you’d brought with you. Carefully you attached the garnet drop earrings you’d inherited from your nan before clasping the matching pendant around your neck, the stone resting just above your cleavage.

The only mirror in the hut was a small one above the sink, so you had no idea how the full ensemble looked. The lovebites were prominent but it’d be nigh impossible to cover them. You couldn’t wear a scarf to dinner and none of your high-necked tops were appropriate for the occasion. Checking your phone, you concluded there wasn’t enough time to paint your nails so your spritzed your perfume and shoved your fit into your leather boots, zipping up the side and adjusting the front lacing. They weren’t the bitch boots but they’d do.

Even though you were inside, you put on the cloak so you didn’t have to faff about with it when Thor arrived. Now it was time to wait.

*** It took a few attempts to get to an outfit that Thor was comfortable in and that Brunnhilde was convinced was appropriate.

“How do I look?” he asked, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

“You look very special. Y/n will be impressed, I don’t doubt it. Now hurry up, you don’t want to make her wait.”

Thor nodded and followed the Valkyrie out of the cabin. He remembered how pleased you’d been that morning with flowers. As he walked to the little hut by the docks. He focused his powers and encouraged the flora to bloom a little early, collecting a small posy as he went, but leaving the rest to add a bit of colour to New Asgard.

The nerves kicked in fully when he stood outside your door. He wanted to run away, to hide at home with his beer and some pizza and some mindless gaming. But he couldn’t do that. You’d given him no reason to distrust you. Trying to calm his breathing, he knocked gently on the door.

He could hear you shuffling around behind the wood and was relieved and surprised when you opened the door. He thought you were beautiful anyway, but seeing you stood there, having made an effort with your appearance, in Asgardian clothes, was more than he could have imagined. His mouth was as dry as it was the morning after a heavy night. His heart hammering as though he’d run to the hut, not meandered leisurely. The skin on his face burning as he blushed, he thought he might combust. Standing there, on your doorstep in New Asgard had him feeling hotter and sweating more than when he’d reignited the forge on Nidavellir.

Not trusting his mouth not to say something stupid, he took one hand and kissed it, placing the posy of flowers into your other hand.

“That’s very kind of you, Thor,” you smiled at him. “Please come in a second so I can put these somewhere.” You grabbed your Thermos in the kitchenette, filling it with water and placing the flowers inside, standing it on the windowsill.

Turning around, Thor was stood awkwardly with his back to the door. He looked ravishing, dressed up, with his hair neatly braided at the back. It was so odd, seeing him in something other than his jogging bottoms, hoodies and cardis. You wondered what he would look like, dressed up to the nines in Asgardian finery, but tonight he’d gone for a more earthly look. The brick-red plaid flannel shirt with the crimson suspenders, framing the swell of his stomach beautifully, attached to the comfy looking jeans that you reckoned were probably hugging the curve of his arse, showing off just how shapely it was, thick thighs making them look almost painted on in places. He’d even forgone his Crocs in favour of a pair of sturdy leather boots. If he hadn’t promised you dinner, you’d have dragged him to bed then and there.

You felt a little foolish now, dressed in your Asgardian clothes, but the electric blue hue of his left eye let you know he liked what he saw. Striding over to him, you pressed him back into the door, running your fingers through the loose golden hair outlining his face against the dark wood of the door. It was remarkably soft, like fresh down, and you could feel Thor holding his breath as you pressed into the marshmallow softness of his stomach, tiptoeing to reach his lips. His facial hair tickled your nose, and it was an effort not to flinch away from it, instead, pressing harder, your tongue slipping into his mouth. Thor’s strong arms wrapped around you so tight you were concerned he’d crack a rib or several.

“Now, that’s how you greet someone with a kiss,” you winked, handing him a tissue to remove the transferred lipstick. “Shall we?” you asked, clutching your bag and reaching past him for the doorknob. A rumble from Thor’s belly was the answer you got as you grabbed his hand and ventured into the cool evening.

@innerpaperexpertcloud @morganhoran1671

#thicc thor #thor #Thor Odinson #fat thor #chubby thor #Soft Thor #squishy Thor #endgame thor #reader insert #Female reader #avengers x reader #reader x thor #dark 'n' stormy

[ghostcat3000]

tell me about 3, 12 and 21? (be as wordy as you can, after all WE ARE IN LOCKDOWN)

3. How has the WIP changed between starting it and where it is now?

WORDY, you say??

Let’s go with Rest Easy since you know it.

There was supposed to be snow, so boo hoo no trapped in a snowstorm, which I’d LONGED FOR but it would be a very different story if it was cold af. 

And dark all the time. 

All those winter clothes. 

Skiing to get from one place to the other.

As alluring as the thought of whales and Northern Lights and more or less following a closer-to-canon timeline of November to December, the premise of constant daylight was more inspiring. Because I kept thinking about an older Isak yelling at the sun and laughing my ass off.

Even was originally much funnier, less weird. He was a more alluring homme fatale.

I like who he’s become though, I care about him and his dogs a lot. 

His home was far more remote (to facilitate the whole STUCK IN A SNOWSTORM sitch). There may have been dogsledding involved.

Isak and Engström were supposed to meet Even at a preliminary interview at his home. Isak didn’t use his bathroom. 

It was more of a slow burn. (Technically, it’s still kind of a slow burn but with a more random trajectory.)

Eva’s bar was not a classy wine bar but more of a roadside joint.

Isak begged Noora to shoot him.

The killer was different.

(Yes, I know who the killer is)

12. What part is the hardest to write in your WIP?

Keeping Even away from Isak and vice versa. When they’re together, it stops being a mystery and I start getting annoyed with myself for being so fucking sappy. Jesus Christ, I am BAD at this.

21. What’s a common writing tip that you mostly ignore?

This makes it sound like I’m actively ignoring writing tips and I’m not confident enough in my writing to be ignoring good advice. I’m really hard on myself and easily discouraged. I tend to freeze and not write most of the time, instead of just starting, just writing–I psych myself out.

I should write more so I can get better but I don’t.

Thank you for the ask, pillowface. consider this my off-key balcony song.

from this meme, ask me things, WE ARE IN LOCKDOWN - I have wips in different area codes: My Mad Fat Diary, SKAM, CMBYN.

#meme time #Ghostcat replies #Rest Easy #newyearsirresolution