#I want to put a blorbo there so I can research it more

[ragana62]

My inbox is always open. To talk fandom, to talk life, to scream into the void, to request silly little drawings or words to try and make yourself feel better, to ask me to use my research skills to help you find something whether in fandom or in real life, whatever.

To be clear, open means open. I don’t care if you read my fics. I don’t care if you like/reblog my posts here. I don’t care if you like my art. If you need me, I’m here.

Need someone to talk flower symbolism with because you want to write something involving it? I’ve got a few books about that and literally did a dissertation on Warhol’s use of it. Want a carefully crafted rant of what I think your blorbos would put on a pizza because everything sucks and you need something funny to take your mind off it? Done. Need someone to tell you that you’re doing your best and it’s okay if your best isn’t much more than ‘I woke up today’? Fantastic work you funky human, I am so proud of you for continuing to exist. Need resources for a specific concern and don’t have the mental bandwidth to find and vet them yourself? I’m happy to help however I can.

Also, just putting it out there. I take requests. I don’t charge for them, I operate on old fandom rules (gift economy, I can’t promise exactly when I get to it but I don’t charge for fan art/fic requests, and I will get to it if you ask and it’s even remotely in my wheelhouse). We all need something to cheer ourselves up right now, and if that happens to be a pretty picture of your favorite blorbos holding hands or a few thousand words of filthy ‘peg the literal patriarchy’ smut, or the most tooth rotting fluff known to humankind, or whatever else, I’m happy to be your friend for that. Creativity is how I cope with the oppressing weight of this bullshit, I’m happy to have people use mine to help them too.

we are going to have to make sure fandom is a safe space for everyone because it’s about to be the only safe space for certain people to exist in

[ckret2]

How do you have the willpower to not consume content from any of your other fandoms? I always get pulled in and out of the same ones and it stops me from getting projects done but I get so bored! Teach me your ways!

So the downside of ADHD is that it takes a ridiculously high amount of effort to push yourself to do things—even things you want to do and like doing—unless you put even more effort upfront into making it convenient for yourself.

But the upside is, if you know this about yourself, and if there's media you want to not be consuming, you just...... don't do anything to make it convenient to consume.

I don't have Amazon Prime. All I have to do is not bother to get Amazon Prime (easy!!) and not bother to hunt out a way to watch Hazbin some other way (also easy!!) and bam, I've got a 100% success rate of not watching it.

Do you know how many Transformers series I'm currently behind on? I sure don't! Because I haven't put the effort into looking it up! I can't be assed! There's like, at least three I think! Don't tell me, I'm not currently interested in finding out!! It would take work for me to figure it out; I can just go "work?? Naaah. Not doing that."

You can resist temptation by just being too lazy to pursue it! Make that ADHD work for YOU!

Caution: if you can't get yourself to put effort into doing anything that brings you pleasure, that's either Pretty Serious Depression or it's gonna cause Pretty Serious Depression and it's not good. However. If you master the art of ADHD, you can save up the effort you didn't put into distractions, and use it to put effort into different activities that also make you happy.

Last year I picked up a podcast about cults. It's all right. But because I'm already listening to it and spotify keeps pushing it to the top of my screen, when I need a low-effort audio distraction, it's easier for me to default to putting on the podcast about cults than it would be for me to, say, dig up The Magnus Protocol to start it. And bam! Now I'm doing more research that'll help me write about a cult leader, for free, by listening to a podcast I'm not at risk of hyperfixating on!

Part of avoiding breaking your own hyperfixation is figuring out what media you enjoy, but don't hyperfixate on. Because you still need to, like, have fun. That's why you wanna watch The Things You Like, because it's fun. If you're not having fun you'll wanna go watch The Things You Like, and rightly so. So you've gotta make sure you're having enough fun with things you don't hyperfixate on.

Like, I know that when I watch Columbo or read Poirot, I find the detectives charming while I'm observing them, and then almost as soon as the mystery is over I stop thinking about them. They aren't the kind of characters that latch into my brain. I know they won't become blorbos. So I'm safe there. I know I enjoy horror movies but 99% of the time totally forget who the characters are, like if there's 2 white guys and 2 white girls it is guaranteed I won't be able to tell them apart, so they're safe to watch, I'm not gonna hyperfixate on them. I know that I enjoy nonfiction/educational books & podcasts, but I only hyperfixate on fiction, so it's safe for me to pick up nonfiction. If it's nonfiction that's somehow thematically relevant to whatever I'm currently hyperfixated on, it even helps feed the current hyperfixation.

And those are my "protect your hyperfixation" lifehacks.

On the other hand, if you, anon, don't personally have ADHD, then I can't help you. idk how people with executive function function.

Final advice: if you know you keep falling in and out of the same 3 or 4 fandoms, maybe try writing a crossover fic about all 3 or 4 fandoms at once. That way it won't matter which one you're currently into. You win no matter what. I've never actually tried this, don't trust this advice.

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Top 10 Things I Love About the QL Tumblr Community 2023

I'm loving everyone's end of year lists, and decided to make up one of my own.

I haven't been on Tumblr for very long and was originally just lurking. 2023 marks the year where I finally started posting, after I read a take that made me feel compelled to come to a fictional character's defense. (Saengtai, my poor little blorbo).

So in commemoration of my first proper year of active tumblring, I present what I love about this community (in no particular order).

(Side note - Technically I know this is still primarily a BL community, but I like to say QL because I am trying to manifest more lesbians for us.)

1) The Gifmakers

Y'all are a good 70% of the reason I joined Tumblr in the first place. There are so many show moments that I want to relive, but without having to search through videos. Sometimes I want to appreciate the aesthetics. Sometimes I want to remember adorable or goofy moments. Sometimes I just want to see cute boys eating each other's faces. Our gifmakers give all of that to us, with the addition of so much creativity and style.

There's too many amazing ones to mention everyone, but I have to shout out @sparklyeyedhimbo, because the way your brain works makes me so happy.

2) The expertise

The other part of why I joined Tumblr was to learn more about what BLs were out there and what I might be missing. And holy hell. Y'all are putting in the work. Not only lists and resources for finding all kinds of QLs, like these fabulous monthly breakdowns by @gunsatthaphan, but also amazing posts that add additional context, like @absolutebl's incredibly helpful breakdown of Asian honorifics. There is so much research people do, for fun! And then they share it!

3) The meta analysis

I frickin love reading people's takes and analyses on series. I love learning, I love seeing perspectives from people with different cultural backgrounds to my own, it's all so fascinating! There's so much context we can miss due to our own privileges, or lack of knowing about various cultures, or due to whatever bubbles we've been living in. People here are just so smart, and nuanced, and willing to reflect and think about things, and also push back at each other, but generally with respect (except when you call out the dumb shit you see, usually on Twitter or TikTok, where people are being reductive and dumb about gender and sexuality).

And I've seen a few takes where people complain about analyses, and say that the director/production doesn't do everything deliberately, and we're all reading too much into it. To which I say, eh, lighten up. How people connect to and relate to media has relevance beyond what was intended. The point is we get to think and discuss and learn and grow. That doesn't happen if we don't analyze.

Special shout out here to @respectthepetty because colors mean things!

4) The wild theories

The other side of the analysis coin, the clown cars y'all drive around in with the wildest of theories. I have happily climbed into an occasional clown car, and usually I am utterly wrong (*cough* Saifah *cough*). But it's a super fun ride. I love seeing how people's brains work. I love it when y'all are wrong. I love it when y'all are right. It's beautiful.

5) Immediate acceptance

I am one of those people who knows that I have a lot of good qualities, and also, always kind of expect rejection. Blame the childhood bullies, I guess. Anyway, whenever I delve into a new space, I still feel like a total dork that no one will want to talk to. It's kind of a fraught way to move through the world, but I manage.

Anyway, I started posting my thoughts as they came up, and people are just totally cool with it. People even follow me sometimes. Even my silliest thoughts and dumbest jokes get at least a couple likes. It's so validating.

And my very silly joke about gay mafia in Kiseki has over 800 likes. I feel very seen.

6) Mutuals

I still kind of can't believe I have any. This ties in to the dork feeling above, but seriously - they are soooo cooooool. They're smart and awesome and funny, and they somehow find me worth following back, which is baffling yet wonderful. I want to squish their faces and give them many kisses (if they're into that kind of thing).

7) The self-exploration

I really appreciate how it's become more talked about how a lot of people are discovering queerness through BL, because that is so the case for me. I think it's both that I was in a bit of a hetero bubble before, and also that I'm evolving a bit as I age. I had figured out I was demi, and maybe a little bit gay, before getting in to BL, but being in this community, and seeing so many of you share so openly and freely, has made me realize it might be more than a little bit.

Either it was a new realization, or being around y'all has made me more gay. Win win, either way.

8) The weirdness

I'm weird. Y'all are weird. I love it.

9) The thirst

So many in this community are thirsty as fuck, and as someone who is in that same condition, I love that it's not just me. There are not many places where I can freely admit how horny I am as a part of my general existence.

Here? I could post about wanting to lick some random BL actor's face, and it would get a bunch of likes and some tags like #lickable, and it's just not remotely a big deal.

Also the gifmakers understand this, and give us beautiful cuts of our spicy scenes. They are genuinely too good for us.

10) The communal watching experience

There is absolutely nothing like watching along with people in the community. It is so worth the torture of having to wait week to week for new episodes. Seeing the show trend, watching the theories fly fast and furious, or the way everyone collectively loses their minds over particular moments. In a world that can feel very isolating, it's a very warm experience.

So there you go. Thank you all for being you. Here's to another year of QL shenanigans and losing our collective minds!

[popcorn-plots]

I looked up Longyearbyen and it's actually such a cool place?? go look it up and read about it

it's a small mining town and I think the only settlement that far north with a population of 1,753 (that is literally the size of my school) with people from over 53 different countries and it's known for it's view of the northern lights

July is the warmest month, with average temperatures of 3 - 7 °C (37.4 - 44.6 °F). That's so freaking cold--

girls go to college to get more knowledge. men go to svalbard to die in the polar night.

[ms-scarletwings]

Endearing through the Alien Lens: A Clue About the Primitive Irken?

I love literary xenobiology. I love it a whole lot, in fact. There’s a paradoxical line I dance across, between criticizing intelligent fictional aliens for their likeness to our species, and criticizing them for their unlikeness. It’s a pretentious and laughable dance between “Come on, the sky’s the limit, there’s no real reason for a bucket of different extraterrestrial races to just all be more flavors of quirky humanoids! Boring, show me something actually alien!!” and the yearn for the use of alien races as a funhouse mirror of mankind’s own evolution. I think the way Irkens nonchalantly dwell somewhere on that subjective tightrope is a good part of why I can’t seem to stop thinking about them.

They are inspired and yet creatively original. They are truly alien, and yet, they can still play foil to the bottomlessly decadent humanity that Vasquez’s Earth has set the stage for.

Before, in the very first brain dump I let loose about them, I noted a few of their parallels to the worst in Homo sapiens and the insects they resemble. This time, something is chewing on me that i haven’t seen another put into perspective. A something that seems contradictory to our collective view of the heartless, sexless, atomized conquerors that all of the cosmos will fear:

They… have parental instincts.

I didn’t necessarily say drives or wants; however, they undeniably havewhat seems to be an actual, instinctual “cuteness response”. Like us, like social pack animals which invest a great deal of resources and time into their young. Given that the closest thing that 100% of smeets born on the home world get to call a parental figure is a literal cold, unfeeling, automated machine, this seems kind of weird, doesn’t it? They’re not even born like mammals or nested like birds, they’re mass produced, like hived wasps or ants, miles beneath their actual society and out of the business of the adults. So, what the heck with them being written to be humanized with this baseless, arbitrary trait?

But, ah ah ah, nitpicker Scarlet, it’s not baseless. It’s only ✨vestigial✨

Y’all could probably make a good guess to what the cuteness response is and why it exists in Homo sapiens, but to sum up- it’s the phenomenon of when we see something we find “cute” and it makes us react to it in a protective, nurturing fashion- or also want to bite/squeeze things, weirdly, if it’s just too damn cute. Well, what do humans find cute? Things that resemble human infants, basically. It’s a biological reflex that makes us want to defend and provide care for our kind’s absurdly dependent and slow-developing young, rather than abandon them in the shrubbery like they’re just screamy, food-leeching paperweights.

“Pff, really? Well I must be special cause I don’t even LIKE babies. I think babies are icky gross, not cute! So, genetic instinct my ass!”

I hear you, sure, but what about… harp seals? Or koalas, or pandas and puppies and fawns and kittens? Or funny little cartoon blorbos? At bare minimum you’d have to be an alien yourself to feel nothing looking at photos of young hedgehogs

See, the fact that a lot of us may often find baby animals a great amount more endearing than even humans’ is not even in conflict with this understanding of cuteness.

The concept of the “baby schema” was formally proposed in 1943 by Konrad Lorenz, an Austrian ethologist. Fun fact is he was also the same researcher who originally observed and described imprinting behaviors, as seen in newly hatched waterfowl. Point is that his “Kindchenschema” idea grouped together a handful of infantile traits that make fireworks go off in the parts of your brain that wants to keep things alive and baby-talk to them. Included on the list were features like proportionally large heads, big eyes, round faces, short noses, etc. despite the name, the baby schema’s effect is something applied not to just actual babies, but children generally, and even in our reactions to non-human animals.

It’s the hypothesis behind both why we’ve jacked up the skulls of so many small dog breeds in the name of aesthetics and why we generally find the portraits on the left side of this image more appealing to look at than the ones on the right.

The consistency of these features across many species may also give some hint that they experience a similar phenonemon, especially given that these are traits shared among bird or mammalian offspring which require significant attention and protection to survive. And, it may also explain why this image likewise gives me a huge dose of that sweet, sweet response.

Awww, look at that lil’ mans! Look at his teeny noodle arms!! I just wanna pinch him like a marshmallow!

YOU are not immune to cuteness psychology, and neither are the proud Irken warriors. I’m going to cite Zim’s proclivity to what I can only describe as paternal bonding as a demonstration of this response, but before you go reminding me about his pak defects, it’s far from the only evidence that this is a natural Irken trait.

Check out little Timmy (importantly, the surrounding response to him), a hilariously out of place youngster who appeared briefly in the trial transcript for the sole purpose of a dark gag and to get us some lore revealed.

Take further note of the complimentary nature of smeets themselves.

Suddenly finding themselves alive, fresh Irken babies too, like the hatched gosling, begin to immediately seek an emotional attachment with the first animate thing they see. While mobile and fast learners, smeets are far from being able to truly fend for themselves. They’re tiny and naive and they need lots of mental enrichment/teaching. They also play and form something akin to friendships, much like human children. In the bygone era before Irkens were so reliant on Paks and all of the advanced technology of the modern empire, smeets would have been exceedingly vulnerable. All signs point to a phase in Irk’s natural history where they were once nurtured after by adults of their own kind, and commonly bonded with their caretakers. This could mean compact family units, or maybe even a communal raising situation, akin to penguin crèches (Personally I like to headcanon that the tallests/queens were traditionally the only breeding members of the population but that’s neither here or now). Either sense, the evolutionary remnants of a parental creature are still around.

Taking all that to note, instead of perceiving Zim as the bizarre outlier to the Irken condition when it comes to having this soft spot, I instead see him as an opportunity to see natural behaviors in action without the suppression of his militarized society and its distractions. Even someone as warped and selfish as he can be is still very, very full of love to give that he doesn’t even understand enough language to describe. He pretty clearly shows he has no cultural understanding or reference of cuteness, and still, he’s not so different in this “weakness” than the very humans he manipulated into fawning over Ultra Peepi. It just took an example his own sensibilities could relate to instead of an unfamiliar, repulsive alien rodent.

And when he’s given the rare circumstance to show that potential, well-

*(With the rough shape/size down, no nose, and huge, bug-like eyes, Li’l Meat man may actually be a great approximation of the key “smeet schema” features. More importantly, it was made to specifically resemble Zim himself)

- I feel that’s downright adorable.

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

Elias' River-Blood

(sounds of whooping and cheering and excited hand slapping) So! Preemptively I will warn that this has spoilers for The Swan Bride ES! Also it gets put under a cut cause it's gonna be Long! I'm gonna sort this into 3 sections: How it Happened, How it's Maintained, and How it Affects Them!

How it Happened:

In the ES you help out the Swan Bride, and discover how and why she is what she is. You learn she was married to a second city Priestess in a poisoned pool in the Sere Palace, and bound to her and the rivers of the canals forever. There you have the option to allow the Bride her marriage to the Priestess, and to make the same sort of bargain the previous Gonfalonier made, and allow the Priestess to open your veins, and let the waters of the river Persephone flow through you. Your character dies and ends up going to a poison river instead of the slow river, and this is where the process happens, and you end up with the water (and specifically also the poison) of the Persephone running through your blood!! This also makes it much easier for you to win the race against the old Gonfalonier. I think it's implied that the reason the PC isn't bound to the canals like the Bride was is because the Priestess has the Bride now and is happy and content with that but... i like my blorbos possessive and this includes rivers, so. Also some parts of this ES were a touch confusing and hard to understand and I apparently didn't record all of it in my echos sadly!!!!

There's also parts where you can discover some of the lore and traditions of the Locks and it talks about guild members getting symbolically married to the waters!

(Okay so. this is the start of my oc specific speculation, meaning any of this can shift or change as I develop and thing of things further!)

How I interpret this for Elias is that they now are tied and married to the River Persephone itself, and with her waters flowing through them, they are bound to her. Not as strongly as the Bride, who was unable to leave, because i think the River knows Elias can't be contained and restrained, but it is more than nothing.

They were good at the Viol beforehand, but the Bride taught them much about it, and now it's one of their favorite forms of music.

Additionally, Elias was not nearly so KatTox focused before this. They had their work with the camera and developing chemicals on the Surface, but not much of the intimate knowledge. After I have them sort of taking her place a bit though, they have much more knowledge then before. This is when they went from esoteric ideas about the Neathbow, to actually studying its chemical properties and compositions, and becoming a pigment and dye-chemist! Before this they would mostly do field research, but had very little idea on what to actually do with that knowledge! This is when Elias got their dyes started!

How it's Maintained: Elias pretty much always feels the pull of the river, but it's akin to gravity. Most days they're pretty used to it, but some days it gets heavy and strong, and can't be ignored. The further they get, and the longer it's been since a visit, the stronger the pulls becomes, and the worse their symptoms can become (which i'll cover below). Elias must actually be upon the river for the pulling and tugging and Symptoms to subside, so just hangin' around the Locks without actually saying hello to their lovely spouse isn't going to work! They'll also often just. put their hands. in the poison waters. I think the river itself is already a bit thicker than normal water, probably being water, blood, and poison in equal measure. So most people would Not put their hands in that, especially because not wanting to risk the poison hurting them! (but also a little bit because of the whole blood thing.) Elias does this anyways because the poison doesn't affect them in the same way, because it's good bonding time with their spouse, they're a bit of a blood freak, and also they can do Fun Spooky Shit!

How it Affects them: okay fun stuff time!

So! Notably, Elias' blood is thinner than it should be! It is, in fact, nearly the same consistency as the River herself, because, well, it is! Just with a bit more blood in the ratio. About 50% blood, 25% water and 25% poison.

Having thin, watered down blood causes many issues! Notably:

Their blood does not clot easily, and when they're cut they bleed profusely and quickly. A lot of the time when Elias' wounds are high it's because they got injured and ended up very nearly bleeding out. They also lose... more blood than expected. If they were meant to have about 14 pints of blood normally, they can bleed out about 20 pints. This doesn't mean they *have* those 20 pints, moreso that the river is bleeding out a bit as well, and they are an open wound in the river.

Elias gets cold very easily, and their base body temperature already sits a little too cold for a human anyways. Luckily, moving water doesn't freeze as easily as still water, but the cold (and discordance) is still dangerous for them.

They're very nosebleed prone. If their emotions get a bit too intense (which is a common occurrence) then they can quickly end up with a very very long nosebleed. 50% luck check on if one happens or not. Usually they last an hour, and leave Elias completely wiped out afterwards. They work very hard to keep their emotions stable.

Elias also deals with anemia. Simply put, there is not enough blood in their blood! This means that while they have *fantastic* circulation, they still deal with cold limbs, light-headedness, and tire-ing very easily.

They also bruise very easily, and they'll take longer to heal

artery blood

There's also a few other quirks

Based on text mentioning the poisoned areas having 'brackish' water, this would lead to their blood being more alkaline than usual. More along the basic, higher end side of the PH scale, like baking soda, seawater, or bleach. The Swan Bride's dress trails through waters as a few points, and hisses and burns away, so! their blood is also lightly caustic (again, like bleach).

Elias' blood is also Incredbly Poisonous (which. i feel like should come up more frequently in game than it actually does, which is to say: this item has no recorded uses ;-;). There's multiple lethal toxins in the water! However, since Elias is diluted river, i think that (unless you're like. straight up drinking their blood) there's only three or four that you'd have to actually worry about, since you wouldn't be able to get a lethal dose of the other eight or nine (or so). Still, it's still likely to kill you if it gets In You, whether entering through a cut, liking a knife, or Elias making Decisions. (I have this idea of them using their blood's lethality on purpose against someone).

Elias also metabolizes toxins incredibly well! What toxins enter their bloodstream, their body takes them and stores them, and keeps them, similar to how caterpillars will consume toxic plants, and become poisonous moths! In order to properly poison them, you'd need to have something their blood cannot store, cannot keep around, or something that skips the bloodstream entirely and targets something else, like, for example, their brain and nerves. This is hard to do though, because this means the poison won't be able to travel well, so it would need multiple applications in different spots. After that though, it'll be easier to target their heart, and from there have something enter their bloodstream.

So what does all of that mean? Well. Thick leather gloves are a great idea around Elias. Unless you're part (or all) Curator, or have some Incredibly High KatTox, you're not going to be able to handle their blood. (please imagine how terrifying it is for Elias to watch someone lick their blood... and then nothing happens. horrifying!!!)

The flow of their blood is tied to the flow of the river, and vice versa. When the river is swollen and rushing, they are fast and full and energetic, and bleeding is much more likely, and much more risky for them. When it is cold, and slow moving, they become lethargic. Crashes in the water and major backups become migraines, busy days have them feeling touch and pressure, which can be either reassuring or annoying. Their mood, in turn, reflects on the water. Anxiety and worry turn into spiraling eddies, anger of frustration or, most dangerous of all, fear, turn into rushing rapids that threaten to capsize boats and flood the locks, but a happy day will have a swift and steady river, cooperative in what needs done.

Yes, this means if you Fuck Up in Elias' river, they can feel it. They have a reputation at the Guild for showing up any and every time there is an accident. The Guild doesn't know Elias is part river, though they do know about them being married (only the superstitious realize it's more than ceremony), and they are aware that Elias' working garb bears striking resemblance to the former gowns and mask of the Swan Bride. No one knows how they're able to navigate while wearing a dress and veil with a massive train that drags in the water.

Elias cannot donate blood, but receiving blood is a bit easier, though not without risk. Donating blood, even to someone with high KatTox, is a challenge, with myriad side effects. First, there is the longing. That gravitational pull, heavy as Earth, injected into someone used to no pull at all. It's easier on Zailors though, for they are used to the pull of the Zee. An intense desire to return to the Persephone, and fling oneself into her currents to float happily. After that, however, is the Persephone recognizing where she is, what strange canals she's in now. You'd better hope she likes you. If not, she'll simply escape the confines, and probably take most of your blood with her. If you've survived all this though, you'll still end up highly sick. Human veins are not meant for corrosive poison, and without the proper death and death rites, your body won't be able to adjust itself or become accustomed to it. Getting blood into them is easier, but Elias does not tolerate the composition well, it diminishes who and what they are, and will put their body in shock. in a pinch though, it can be done, provided you can treat the shock and help them feel like themself again. The best way to give Elias a blood transfusion would be to take the back to the River where they can slowly heal, or, if it needs to be done quicker, to inject the river-water into them directly.

Elias does get some fun and nifty stuff out of it though! Mainly, their communication with, control of, and strength on the water.

Well, less control in the traditional sense.

When Elias opened their veins to her, it was not just a bargain. It was marriage, a bond, and a conversation. They shared their circulatory system with her, and the organ that is in charge of all of that: their heart. They have dedication to her, and devotion for her, and that deep bond. It's not romantic love, but it is love, and a promise. They love her, and care for her.

She asks they return to her once a month, and they do so willingly. Even when they are unhappy, they will return to her, for she cannot come to viisit them. They carry her happily in their blood. If Elias is unable to visit her for whatever reason however, their anemia symptoms with gradually worsen, and their strength will diminish. It is as if their lifeforce slowly leaves them. It is not out of malice that this is done however, it is simply that the bond needs to be renewed, vows upheld. She permits them as much freedom as they have, for she knows they cannot be contained, and it would sadden them to be so far from others. So they must visit her.

Often though, Elias will visit more than once a month anyways, because they adore her so. Thus, with this bond they share, and the part of their heart she occupies, the Persephone grants them something extra.

The previous Gonfalonier had the river in his veins, yes, but he did not give of his blood back. He did not want to risk a binding, and thus he had limited abilities with the River. He could navigate more easily than anyone else, and already he had great skill, and though he control and bend the waters to his will, and she was not happy, and his success was extremely limited.

With Elias and their heart, they can communicate with her. Navigation traditionally requires an oar, however... Elias can merely touch their hand to the water, and she will know their desires. They can ask her to swell, to slow, to speed them along, whatever their heart desires. When they do this though, if they attempt anything of intensity, it does cause their own blood to run in turn. Usually a nosebleed will come first, then it trickles from their mouth and tear ducts. It doesn't hurt, but it can exhaust them if they push themself too far. On the river herself though, Elias tends to feel more alive, and less lethargic. Their aches do not touch them as much here. Unfortunately, Elias will often overwork themself because of this, so excited to do things that they forget their disabilities are still there.

Elias also still doesn't know how to swim, and while they're great at navigating their gondola... this does not apply out at Zee. They can't feel the Zee, nor do they know how to communicate with it, and they're bad at navigating using a steering wheel instead of an oar.

Overall though, they take the good with the bad, and love her regardless. She provides them freedom, a way to navigate the waters and the Upper River, where they alone are in control of themself.

[see-arcane]

I figured I should interrupt everyone's dash for some notes on current real life things.

This is a hefty one, so I'm tucking everything below:

A little good news. As of this writing, I’ve sold 74 copies of The Vampyres, in eBook and paperback! That’s 74 more than I thought I would ever sell! Thank you to everyone who picked up a copy or asked your library to grab some. Especially when I know I haven’t been the most stellar self-marketer. I can’t remember the last time I opened the septic tank formerly known as Twitter, so it’s all been down to this little corner here and a skinny appearance in Goodreads. Which means I owe any attention this short and sinister tale has received to you all and plain old word-of-mouth.

That said, thank you x100000 to you and any new readers yet to take a look. (And doubly so for those of you who go out of their way to leave comments and reviews around for me to reread ad infinitum.)

For those not in the know, all the info on The Vampyres can be found here, and all my author odds and ends can be found on my website here.

On a less heartening note…

As I’d already expected, the market for career writers is…rough. Copywriting—and writing in general—is technically a big open field (full of caveat descriptions about having to work with/teach AI programs to eventually swallow your job)! Tons of open positions! Most of which either pay you in pocket change while you’re working full time or expect you to singlehandedly run the entire marketing of a business for slightly more pocket change. Everything else is bloated with contract and/or freelance work*.

*Read: Gig economy schlock trying to pass for an actual job position with payment being a coin toss. I’ve also seen one too many listings on the job boards that are volunteer positions. Plenty of exposure to rake in though, right? Ha. Ha ha.

I’ve still been applying like clockwork, same as the rest of my fellow creators trying to get by in a field that seems to actively punish trying to be a professional in said field, and still no bites further than an interview. I have years of experience and a degree, but everyone’s chasing the same crumbs, so. Yeah. I’ve got to start padding things out.

Reminder that I do have a (barely peddled) Ko-Fi. It’s there for art commissions and chucking a few spare bucks at. Which is an increasingly big ask these days, I know. You can’t scroll two posts down without hitting someone else’s Ko-Fi, Patreon, GoFundMe, Kickstarter, et cetera. We’re drowning in arting starvists here. And although I have been asked before whether I would consider going full Freelance Storywriter on top of selling art, I’m still a little hesitant on it. I do occasionally send out story submissions and have even gotten published a few times, but I get nauseous thinking about:

1) Putting up a paywall on the scribbles that assail me like a baseball bat wielded by an unmerciful Muse. 2) Putting up a ‘Stories for Sale!’ sign only to wind up disappointing prospective buyers because I didn’t do their blorbos justice even after researching X background for the piece. 3) Getting duped into being a nonconsenting ghostwriter and discovering someone else has published my work under their own name.

So, still a bit iffy on that. I’ll chew on it. But what else is left?

Before you click the button!

Stop!

NOT YET!

Before you click, please know that I am being serious about this as something to potentially make 1) something of good quality and 2) earn more money than it loses. Looking around at the merch-making/selling options, there are fees involved with making an account just about anywhere in the online store game, give or take the price tweaking needed for shipping and manufacturing blah blah blah.

With that in mind, please do not automatically hit ‘yes’ because you want to be nice. I appreciate it, but this isn’t the same thing as the Ko-Fi where there’s no real loss in just leaving it up and drawing something once every few months. This will take new designs, another subscription to pay for, more logistics to untangle for quality and pricing and all the rest of the mess. Only hit ‘yes’ if you, personally, genuinely, would like to purchase some nefarious See Arcane wares beyond a book or a digital drawing.

[starstruckodysseys]

20 questions for 20 writers !!

thank u to @localdisasterisk for tagging me in this! i honestly do not know how many writers i follow so um. ill tag my pibe fic besties @wheelsupin-azarathmetrionzinthos @angelwiththeblue-box @fatestitcherr @incorrect-play-it-by-ear and the rest of u can fight amongst yourselves

1. how many works do you have on ao3?

48. i don’t know if its more concerning that almost half of them are from the past five months or that almost half are play it by ear. its the same almost half but still

2. what’s your total ao3 word count?

143,389. woof

3. what fandoms do you write for?

obviously play it by ear. everyone knows that. also d20 occasionally and project sekai. unfortunately

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

toya and mizuki’s step by step guide to romancing a shinonome — i will be so real with you guys i specifically crafted this one to be popular. and then i fell in love with it along the way. but it did start as a science experiment

let me take you with me (just like this) — WHY. this is my second pjsekai fic and my fourth fic ever posted. it’s not at all reflective of my current style. help

kiss it better — yeah. same issue as the other one. this one’s better though lmao

say you miss me (say you want to kiss me) — honestly? just impressed a honakana fic made it up this high. love my girlies

the moon is crumbling (but that’s okay) — yeah everyone pretend to be surprised the ruikasa fic got this high up. it was a new concept for me, though, so i’m pretty proud of that

5. do you respond to comments?

i used to, but not really anymore unfortunately. to be fair, i will point you all to the fact that most of my recent fics are pibe, and then to the discord where we all scream about them together

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i don’t usually. write sad endings. bc i don’t like them. okay that’s not true i just usually don’t. i guess the moon is crumbling?? if i had to choose?? it’s more bittersweet than anything, but people did say they cried, so…

7. what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

99.9% of my fics are getting together fics. it’s just the same ending a million different ways. you tell me

8. do you get hate on your fics?

not publicly!

9. do you write smut? if so, what kind?

i would simply be too powerful if i could. this is for your safety actually

10. do you write crossovers?

in the sense of characters across universes/media interacting? no. in the sense of “i am going to put my blorbos in every single other setting i slightly enjoy”? absolutely. putting them under a microscope. researching and recording how they react to their surroundings

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge!

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

i simply do not think there is a demand for my fics in other languages. not in like a depressing way, it’s just that i’m writing for like five people including myself, so. yknow

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

no, but if someone wanted to… 👀

14. what’s your all time favorite ship?

i’ve never written for them (yet, at least), but by sheer volume and span of time i have to say souyo persona4. my silly boys. i’ve never scoured the entire tag for a ship multiple times on ao3 like i have for them. i have so many thoughts about them that have never seen the light of day but they exist!!

15. what’s a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

stares awkwardly at feed your anger like fire… i’ve tried!! but it turns out that sometimes you get stuck on clothing designs and stop writing and then lose passion for the project and then stop updating for three years because you were too ambitious and also you hate your old writing style. not that i would know anything about that

16. what are your writing strengths?

i think i’m really good at dialogue, or at least banter. unfortunately this makes me very judgmental but that’s not important. also i can create a vibe well i’ve been told

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

in general? i SUCK at character description, or at least knowing where and when to place it. i also always worry about characterization and if my characters sound too similar

18. thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i used to read so many fics that centered around using another language (shoutout bmc fandom when i was. in that. a dark period of my life, but alas) and honestly if it’s done well i think it’s cool!! i’m not going to get into the intricacies of bilingualism on account of being an english only speaker but it is rad to me

19. first fandom you wrote for?

wrote for? probably warriors. yes the cats. i had a whole fanfic for my oc. shoutout to… honestly i don’t remember her name but she was a real one! wrote for and posted is another story, by which i mean i don’t remember At All. probably bandori tbh, bc i don’t remember if i posted fanfic on my wattpad

20. favorite fic you’ve written?

either the venn diagram of curses and crushes (which is still my favorite fic title ever) or soaking in the glory. one of them is a 3k word expedition into the play it by ear canon space and the other is a 7k word fever dream i went into a fugue state to write in two days. honorable mention to the like the sweetest cup of chai series which i hold so close to my heart. silliest besties of all time

[midnightluck]

Aventurine is Rom-Coded

Back on my bullshit with more over-analysis for my best blorbo LET'S GO

DISCLAIMER I am not Rom, I am just an interested party, pls correct me if i'm wrong or disrespectful here it's been a long time since I got to deep dive this topic. Will be also discussing the slur as context with full knowledge of the context. ALSO I am BIASED take this with a barrel of salt, and I haven't cited my sources since I did this research in high school for writing Dick Grayson fic okAY HERE WE GO

So like, can we talk about Sigonia??? Like???? What the fuck kind of culture has "may your schemes remain hidden" as a general wellwish? Can we talk about how "Sigonian" is a slur????? and ALSO they are so Rom-coded, CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CULTURAL GENOCIDE PARALLELS PLEASE--

So FIRST OFF, Romani != Romanian, Romani != "gypsy", Romani != criminal. Romani is a tribe, is a culture, is a way of life. It's nomadic and art-centric and Romani, as a language, is not Romanian, no matter what some folk use in fic (sources: 1, 2, 3). It's a language that borrows from most European languages, and because Rom are nomadic, they then spread that back to those countries. For example, the English word "love" is used in Rom to mean "money," possibly the basis for the idiom "show me some love" meaning "pay up". (also, side note: as there are different groups and traditions, there are some pretty widely varying dialects; here's some more about that if you're interested.)

The Rom culture involves moving on and traveling. This is fascinating for townies (derogatory) and for the vast majority of people because it's an alternative lifestyle, and often children or teens or young adults would fall in love with the people or the lifestyle and follow the caravan, at least for a while. This led to the Rom's reputation as babythieves and childstealers. "Lock up your children," people used to say, "because the gypsies are coming to town." Maybe some caravans did take kids, we don't know, because fresh blood is important to continue family lines? But citation needed and A N Y WAY

So the Rom would roll into town, half-show and half-trading, perform for money, spend money, and move on. Because they were transient, there was less pressure to maintain a reputation, and a lot of the "tricks" and bad trades led to the term "getting gypped" being coined from the word "gypsy," which is why it's a slur; it literally means "someone who is intending to steal from you". One such common trick was Ekkeri, akkery, u-kéry an, which was a "magic spell". Put your money into this handkerchief, say the spell, it doubles. Do it again; it doubles again. Oh, you want me to do it with all your life savings? Sure, here's the hankie, the longer you wait to open it, the more it'll grow, buh-bye! Ekeri Aikeri is likely the original basis for the common rhyme Hickory Dickory Dock, and like all nursey rhymes was presumably a warning: if you hear this, be wary. (sources: 1, 2, 3)

So the Rom became more and more marginalized, and as any marginalized group will tell you, that's not a winning recipe for longevity. There's currently an inherent, unexamined bias all modern kids are taught, to be wary of strangers, to be wary of "gypsies" because they're enchanting magical creatures who will walk into town one day and leave with your money or your heart or your dreams (see Shakira's Gypsy), but they're not, the Rom are people, and people are not one thing. The stereotype of a "gypsy" is constantly enforced and as the population dwindles, more and more people are assuming that the Rom aren't real people, that the way of life has died out, and why be careful when there's no one left to harm? Only there is and they are trying but they no longer have the infrastructure to support themselves outside of society and they have to give up their culture to be a part of society because society thinks they're extinct fairy tales. It's a lot like what happened with Native Americans in the US, except that there were more Native Americans, they had settled land and history, and they fought back. The Rom didn't have a place to defend because nomads, couldn't point to history because oral traditions, and now there's so little to prove they ever travelled the entire continent of Euraisa and spread culture and art and magic. The only things the wider world has left of Rom culture are in our words, and even then those are carelessly used and more weapon than word.

TL;DR I have a lot of feelings on this but LET'S GET TO AVENTURINE.

Unlike real Rom, he's got the eyes--everyone can see at a glance that he's a schemer, a liar, a storyteller and a gambler. He wears his heritage on his face and he doesn't try to hide it, just like he doesn't try to hide his serial number. Someone tried to own him, and he beat them. Someone tried to kill his culture, and he won't let it die. He's been a foreigner longer than he'd ever been Avgin, but that kind of heritage doesn't die, even when everyone else does. Take Sparkle looking at him and saying "What's one of your kind doing here?"

Sigonia IV is the planet; there were multiple races on it, according to the lore, and Aventurine was an Avgin, a race that was wiped out. "Sigonian" is like calling someone an "earthling"; you're not wrong, but you are grouping everyone in together, and the Avgin and the Katican are terrible enemies who would not appreicate that in the least, I assume.

In-game characters use "Signonian" over "Avgin" which feels like "gypsy" over "Rom". Aven is presenting himself as a "gypsy," letting people call him that, embracing the stereotype and leaning the fuck in because it's better to be a Sigonian than to let the entire Avgin culture die entirely.

It's a lot of weight to carry, but that's the thing about a magic trick: the real trick is hiding how hard it all is. Magic is the art of making the impossible seem easy and natural, after all; look at this shiny pretty distraction, isn't it flashy? Isn't it bright and pretty and so easy? Just a twist of the wrist to produce anything your heart desires, and never mind how long it took to set it all up (we'll discuss performative luck build next time!)

Anyway so that's my take on his identity and cultural issues; he's too visibly an outsider to ever be trusted, but he's too alone to ever be supported in a culture. He knows he's alone, and what's more, he knows that everyone is looking to him as their only example of what an Avgin is, of what they were. He is defining his entire culture, in defiance of society, and all he has to do that with is childhood memory. There's this fuckoff big weight on his shoulders which is part of why he can't die; his reputation is every Avgin's reputation, and he will defend that more bitterly than his own. Aventurine doesn't lose because Avgin don't lose.

[ninadove]

watching character ai lukadrien create the most heart wrenching debilitatingly angsty love story to ever love story ever

Hey, I can tell there’s no malice behind your ask, but — don’t do that.

I write fanfiction myself, and a lot goes into it:

1. Unreasonable amounts of ✨ Time and Effort ✨

Just the other day, my WIP kept me up until 2 AM, because I wanted it to be neatly polished before even sending it to my beta readers (@paracosmicfawn and @dragongutsixofficial). The first thing I did the following morning was re-read it again, to correct any typos and inconsistencies my tired brain might have missed the night prior.

2. Research and analysis

For a cute little Lukadrien scene I wrote with my ✨ awesome girlfriend ✨ — something that was never even going to be published — I went through a dozen different sources trying to get a better understanding of what meditation actually is and to capture the philosophy behind it accurately. This does not make me special — all authors do it out of dedication and love for their craft, but it’s energy that could be spent doing literally anything else, especially when you consider how horrifyingly lonely the writing process can be (see point 1).

Also, there’s a reason I spend so much time making analysis posts on Silly Little Blorbos who do not exist! It gets my brain running and allows me to sharpen my understanding of the characters, so I can write them properly in my works.

3. A unique perspective on the characters, the source media, and life in general

Which gives all the flavour to my favourite AO3 works out there.

Like, yes, that extract you sent in your follow-up ask is cute, I guess, but it’s also incredibly generic:

When actual living breathing human (or Senti) beings share their work with you, they’re inviting you to a special part of their brain that they’ve decorated with their own experiences, references and visuals — things that they love and passed onto their favourite characters, so they can hopefully reach you. For instance, Character AI would never have had the genius idea to compare Felix’s eyes to an aurora borealis; this could have only sparked from @wackus-bonkus-maximus’ brain. Similarly, my version of Felix will often reference works of art and literature that left a strong impact on me as a child — an impact I’m sure can also be sensed in my approach to storytelling and even in the way I structure sentences and paragraphs.

Which leads me to my final and most important point:

4. EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE™

Because let’s be real — there’s a reason our brains latch onto certain characters, and said reasons aren’t always sunshine and rainbows. I’ve cried more writing about the Senticousins than over the loss of certain people or relationships in my own life. Long before that, I latched onto Clive and gave him everything I felt was missing from my life as a teenager, so I could live vicariously through him. And of course, I always make my characters some flavour of queer, because for a long time this was the only outlet I got for my own feelings and identity.

It takes a lot of vulnerability to put all of this on the Internet for others to read and judge, and it’s very disheartening to see that people would rather ask a machine to spit out some easily digestible but impersonal interactions than give your work a chance.

I can guarantee there are beautiful pieces of fanwork out there that will cater to your tastes and haunt you for years in a way Character AI or Chat GPT never could. And the good news is — if you don’t find anything, it means it’s time to write it yourself!

And of course, I cannot end this post without encouraging everyone to read about the writers’ and actors’ strike currently unfolding in the US.

[relatableblorbopoll]

Round 1 of preliminaries, group 5

The first two places get a place on the bracket

Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket

Propaganda under the cut

Melissa Chase (Milo Murphy’s Law)

"Her self worth is entirely based on her grade point average and getting straight As. She can’t remember anything, ever (specific examples include forgetting her maths book regularly, her student pass for the subway, and how many days are in February). However, she CAN remember the blood type of every president. She is terrible at throwing She gets visually upset when she realises that a plan was changed last minute, and that an academic event she expected to do well in was combined with a sporting event, giving no time to prepare for the new event She freaks OUT when she thinks she’s going to disappoint her headteacher- she doesn’t seem to expect to be given any actual punishment, just that the headteacher will be disappointed and think that she’s irresponsible She has a whole conspiracy room in her house dedicated to researching her best friend’s medical condition- Murphy’s Law being an interest that she is clearly very passionate about and interested in. she does all of that and still can’t remember her maths book. relatable queen her ambition in life is to be a “journalist, and queen of the universe” "

Candace Flynn (Phineas and Ferb)

"A ball of stress and anxiety. She's always angry because nobody listens to her, cares about her feelings, or believes her about anything, which tbh is like the quintessential teenage girl experience. Secretly just wants her parents to recognise and appreciate her."

V-Flower (Vocaloid)

"they believe that people only care about them when they are in pain"

Ciaphas Cain (Warhammer 40k)

"Don't let the sharp jawline and the mutton-chops fool you: Ciaphas Cain has no idea what he's fucking doing and would very much like to not be here right now. He is a high-ranking Commissar, essentially a walking morale boost for Imperial Guard soldiers and one of the only symbols of hope in the grimdark Warhammer 40k universe. He also has no idea how he got the job or how to get the hell out. Commissar Cain spends all his time accidentally doing magnificent bastard things while trying to run away from danger and dying inside. Over the course of his books, he's named Hero of the Imperium, has a hot mommy inquisitor fall in love with him, and saves hundreds of planets per panic attack he has. His cowardice and impostor syndrome are second only to my own, and that's why he's just like me fr."

Percy Jackson (Percy Jackson series)

"he's got big no thoughts head empty energy! he loves his friends and girlfriends SO much (more most YA characters, i think; he would have no qualms about sacrificing the world to save the people he loves, which goes against the typical hero). he is almost always ready to fight a bitch. he has adhd and accidentally says things he shouldnt all the time (but this has made him good at problem-solving, bc he creates a LOT of problems for himself)"

MK (Lego Monkie Kid)

"Oooooh boy where do I begin. MK the Monkie Kid is the protagonist of the story but he has *so many issues*. He wants to be a good person but has a whole lot of impostor syndrome and is convinced he will only hurt people the more he tries to save them. He is convinced that every major villain in the show is his fault, even as far as misremembering/changing up some events to put blame onto himself He also has an absent mentor figure that was supposed to help him but guess what he had to figure out all his powers on his own so abandonment issues go brrrr. He has so much anger toward his mentor Wukong but he just *bottles it all up* (common theme) Also he is so trans and adhd coded. First, MK is a nickname. We don’t know his real name, but it is v much implied he used to go by something else. He and his friends also puts a lot of emphasis on manly stuff like ‘I’m a big boy!’/‘he’s a Monkie *Man*!!!’/‘im the smartie boy, the plan man!’ He also has trouble focusing and listening to other people, is sometimes blunt and he is VERY interested in Sun Wukong and the journey to the west (Chinese classical novel that the show is based on) and just in general always needs constant reassurance and support from his friends. He is often compartmentalizing his feelings and internalizes a lot of fear and blame is also suppressing a part of himself that scares him. (Which, same) He loves his friends so much and tries so hard to keep them all safe, even hiding his own problems and worries from them as an attempt to protect them. He wants to go back to season 1, back when each episode was a villain-of-the-week kinda story, with no world-destroying threats. But nope, he saw the horrors, and he can never go back to the bubbly Monkie Kid from the beginning. Also he is terrified of spiders :>"

[peskytimeswithscar]

ok it's headcanon time for.... grian!!!!

in regards to identity i view him as being aro-spec, while i could find a specific label i feel like c!grian wouldn't care much into finding that label, i think he'd prefer to just identify as being on the spectrum but he wouldn't really put in the time or effort into researching it

he also is asexual!! however im just asexual myself so all my blorbos must be asexual bc it feels. weird if not

and he's gay!!! gay man, gay gay homo (but actually this is mainly just because of yhs where he says hes "no im into dudes", plus i just cannot see c!grian with a woman that man is gay)

i also see him as being on the asensual (sensual attraction is the desire to touch others in a non-sexual way, e.g. cuddling, kissing, etc) spectrum !! mainly demi-asenflux because i feel like he would only like touch from people he's close + sometimes really doesn't want to be touched, but sometimes/alot of the time he really wants to and is the clingiest

he also gives off vibes of being on the aplatonic spectrum but i cannot think of anything in specific, maybe demiplatonic and cupioplatonic? i just feel like smth is up w this man's platonic orientation,, he def wants to have friends and is willing to do so but he only really feels platonic attraction whenever he's actually close to a person

i could probably go more into detail but those are the primary ones in my head for his sexuality so lets (finally) go onto GENDER!!!!

this man is definitely transgenderism!!! he identifies as a trans-man tho i do feel like his standards of being a man definitely differ to society's, he's most definitely gender non-conforming and he mainly wears androgynous or feminine clothing most of the time (though he only really wears skirts or dresses if hes cross-dressing as ariana griande)

he also probably is somewhere on the non-binary spectrum he just doesn't really identify with it

i feel like he primarily uses it/he pronouns? he definitely feels less than human due to his watcher roots so it got used to being called it/its, he also only is called she/her when he's cross-dressing as ariana griande, and if i had to give him some neoprns i feel like he'd enjoy chirp/chirp's? or some sort of parrot themed neopronouns

i also think he wouldn't get top surgery! it's easier for him not to since he only gets dysphoric over the shape they cause (which can easily be solved via a binder) instead of the actual chest itself

ok gender part over now it's time for some other headcanons

this man is definitely 100% neurodivergent, i feel like in particular he has adhd (this man cannot finish the back of his bases and gets distracted off tasks like a dog seeing a squrriel) and autism!!! i feel like he sometimes goes non-verbal (though i feel, as a parrot hybrid, when he's non-verbal he just ends up copying what other people are saying to him, so maybe that could be considered semi-verbal?), i think he would stim ALOT using his wings, he's happy and suddenly u have feathers everywhere because he flapped them alongside his hands

i think he would also have really bad rejection sensitive dysphoria, he definitely dislikes getting rejected from things which leads to him bottling alot of things up and causing plenty of the scarian miscommunication we're all too familiar with

he also stims with bird noises alot! he likes to chirp and squawk when he's happy, tho that may also just be because he's a parrot hybrid

he definitely changes hyperfixations like the wind, one week he likes this one thing and another he likes this other thing, and i feel like he would only really have 1 or 2 special interests that actually stick around (one of them likely being architecture/building, the other probably being birds and such)

he tends to have a very changing routine and schedule due to his adhd HOWEVER he has some routines (mainly with scar in them, who prefers to have very set routines cause that man also has autism) which never change or both of them get stressed out (e.g. morning/night routine, a routine that started in the desert and then followed them onto hermitcraft - they both get very stressed out on the life series since it disrupts their routines)

this was.... alot more text than i was expecting to write but anyway!!! expect a scar one at some point

[mercurygray]

Literally don't know if it's my lack of self confidence or anxiety that's giving me intrusive thoughts. I've always wanted to write for BoB but never did. It wasn't ever an issue or anything I just kind of enjoyed the fandom from afar. Since seeing Masters of the Air trailer I've been inspired but underwhelmed by self doubt. I want to make OCs and participate in this fandom when the show airs but feel I will be mocked or critiqued if I don't research the history of the period or get something wrong. I'm not academic. I'm just about the blorbos. But the BoB fandom strikes me as hugely intellectual and the fic is always immaculate and we'll researched even stuff that is made up is feasible because of the research. I feel masters of the air is gonna follow the same pattern and I feel intimidated. I'm stopping before I'm starting. I don't want to enjoy the fandom from afar but I don't want to put the legwork in to make a fic historically accurate. But I don't want people jumping on me for being so ignorant. I don't even know what or where I can get face claims from that era to use. I guess this is a cry for help

Kind Anonymous Friend, you come sit over here by me and let's talk.

First, let's start with one thing - there's no right or wrong way to be in a fandom. Fandoms need readers and observers just as much as they need writers, and just by you being here, and being willing to listen and talk, you are valuable, and you are part of the community. Please do not underestimate that.

Second, that's great that you're feeling inspired! That should be celebrated and held close! Even if you do nothing with that idea, if nothing comes from it, that's still valuable too.

I was like you once; I watched Band of Brothers and I didn't come back to write anything for it for nine years, because just like you I was really intimidated.

Every writer likes something different, and does this work for different reasons. The research part is fun for me, so I do a lot of it. (It's me! I am part of the problem!) I know of plenty of authors who care much more about the emotional feel of the thing and couldn't care less about historical facts. You have to figure out what makes sense for you - and it sounds like you already have. Knowing yourself, and your reason for being here, is a great thing. Hold on to that. That's important.

On the flip side of this, every reader likes something different. I'm sure there are some people who think my approach is total bunk - and that's okay!! And I know that there are people who really don't care for the original character approach; thankfully some of those people are still on speaking terms with me even if they don't necessarily like what I do. Not everyone is going to read everything - what matters is that your people find your fic.

I think if you're open about what your process is, or why you're here, people will be more likely to appreciate what you have to offer, or know that while you're a nice person, they're unlikely to enjoy your story and give others the space to appreciate it in peace. I know that's certainly been the case with me.

I think if anxiety about sharing or being mocked is a big deal for you - and it sounds like it is - maybe sharing some of your ideas in, say, a smaller group of friends could be a good idea. And nothing says you have to be public with your ideas at all. Maybe they're just for you. That's okay, too.

And to your last point regarding face claims - there is no right or wrong way to make an OC. I personally think faceclaims are overrated. Most of my characters don't have them.

I hope this helps. I'm giving you a reassuring back-rub and wishing you good luck -and if you need to DM someone, you know where to find me. I believe in you.

[kagoutiss]

Actually I'm not done talking about your Ganondorf yet, he's so blorbo/pos, this man wants power but has to put up with so much shit that he makes everyone else put up with his shit too. 10/10 also I would like to kiss him please

FIRST OF ALL THANK YOU AGAIN AAA, SECOND OF ALL you’re so right about this that i ended up…writing many paragraphs of character analysis about him in this regard because this activated something in my brain. like about him inflicting shit on other people because of the shit that’s inflicted on him, and how much i’ve thought about that. i have so many feelings about his shitty personality, i think a fundamental part of why i love him is that he is…literally an asshole and he’s kind of impulsive and often terrible to people for no reason and he’s probably genuinely unbearable to be around even if you are close to him, but i think he is that way by virtue of the COMPLETELY UNREASONABLE REALITY that he lives in?? like.

ok so. i feel like OoT ganondorf is AS unpredictable & unreasonable & unpleasant as the circumstances that he lives with. we’re talking about someone who was not only born into the role of king of a nation that’s been generationally abused by Hyrule since the start of a centuries-long war predating OoT, but he’s also become accustomed to fighting against the Sheikah of that time period, who notably still had an immense technological advantage, and apparently inherit divine knowledge from the gods, and are capable of making evidence of their crimes against humanity just sort of…DISAPPEAR from the sight of most average people??? and also they. fucking invented time travel apparently

one of my favorite bits of really underrated OoT lore is how the Composer Brothers (who you can speak to as ghosts in the Kakariko Graveyard) were hired at some point by the royal family to study the powers of the royal bloodline, and they invented the Sun’s Song, which accelerates time, turns night to day, etc. a form of time travel, in essence. and. canonically. the Composer Brothers committed suicide when they found out ganondorf was going to try to steal their completed research. maybe to prevent him from torturing the the information out of them even if they destroyed it? which is a completely fucking batshit piece of lore that i still cannot believe exists

but imo it also gives a bit more context as to how desperate ganondorf probably was at the heel end of the civil war, or whenever this happened. he was literally having to contend with people who can fucking time travel, and to some extent, alter reality at will, superficially or otherwise. i’m not at all surprised that he has a tendency to 1) hold grudges forever and remember everything that’s ever been done to him, and 2) obsess over stealing the full Triforce, the one chance that any regular mortal has at changing their reality in a fundamental way. i think it’s probably difficult to make real personal connections when you’ve always been constantly at risk of losing anything & everything that you care about, in a way that may or may not affect whether those things had ever existed in the first place

i also feel like he PREFERS to be demonized/label himself really hyperbolic things like the King of All Evil and stuff because it’s…the opposite of what Hyrule does. Hyrule makes itself out to be this Supremely Benevolent Institution That Is Chosen By The Gods And Can Do No Wrong, while simultaneously disappearing its naysayers underground and torturing them and killing them and committing genocide against any territories that refuse to be absorbed under the Hyrulean banner. i don’t think Ganondorf cares whether his actions are necessarily good or evil, but i think that to him, the most abhorrent thing in existence is a thing that claims to be good when it isn’t.

so. he presumably spent his entire early life having to fend off the ever-looming bootheel of Hyrule’s royal family, while their army and their secret police were actively destroying the Gerudo and then gaslighting them all about it on an Existential Level. like. yeah no i think him having immense issues and…projecting the lack of control that he feels onto people around him, and being fully defined by his ambitions to take the triforce, and wanting people to despise him/see him as fundamentally evil, and him being sort of incapable of forming genuine connections with people, is…kinda par for the course with that agdkahkfjagajfhs

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Covenant- Chapter 13

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire Fisher

Word count: 11.3k (prepare drinks and snackies as always)

Chapter warnings: Most of this is me putting our blorbos in situations for funsies, but I promise there is a method to my madness. They're in love, your honor, they just won't admit it! Misunderstandings, arguing, flirting, mild smut, awkward family situations brought to you by Frigga, jealousy, tension between Brodinsons, author watched the film The Proposal and felt inspired, a fourth wall break and a HINT of plot. Also, the research I did for the boating scenes is lacking, so if you see a mistake, please be kind. Your favorite meow meow is dumb.

Taglist: @lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtiggerv2 @icytrickster17 @mysteriouslyfriedjellyfish @lokislilkitten @justjoanne242 @amlocked @ddmariegirl @mags-04-blog @sharris8 @meepycheep @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @the-fantasy-loving-angel @jaidenhawke @smolvenger @ladymischief11 @huntress-artemiss

Please let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Thanks for coming along on this journey with me! Buckle up gang :D

Read it on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938/chapters/129363727

Every touch of his hand repulsed her. She hated the rough skin of his hands, the possessive way he grabbed and kneaded her flesh, as though she belonged to him. She did belong to him, Ragna thought mournfully as he pinched her nipples painfully and made her cry out. He'd brought her here against her will years ago, a trophy from the Asgardian foray into her home planet of Krylor. There was no escaping, except for death. Despite her hopeless, vile situation, Ragna did not want to die. She wanted her life to be her own again.

The guard outside her door knocked, respectful as always to Ragna's master, but never to Ragna herself.

“What?!” Her master shouted angrily, making Ragna flinch in fear. He hated to be interrupted, and there was no doubt in her mind that she would be punished for it.

“She's been summoned.”

“By who?!”

“Her majesty the princess royal.” The guard said stiffly. Ragna's master swore under his breath and shoved Ragna away roughly, making her stumble.

“Go see what the bitch wants. I expect you back promptly.” Ragna wanted so desperately to correct him- the princess was lovely, and to speak against her! Righteous indignation swelled in Ragna's breast like a tidal wave and she straightened as she clenched her fists. Just as quickly, the wave dashed upon the shore as she remembered what happened the last time she dared speak back to her master. Her shaking hands affixed her clothes to their proper place as she looked back to the floor in shame.

Ragna left her room, scurrying to the princess' chambers to address her needs. Gunnar opened the door for her as she approached, nodding politely just before she stepped inside.

“Your Majesty.” she curtsied to the princess as the door closed behind her. “I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. How may I be of service?” she asked breathlessly.

“Hi,” Claire greeted her warmly. “I'm really sorry to bug you so late, but I didn't know who else to ask. I'd like some more pillows and I don't know where they're kept. If you show me you can go back-” “No!” The shout burst from Ragna before she could stop it and she froze in fear. She'd never once raised her voice to one of her betters, let alone a member of the royal family.

“Okay, no problem,” Claire laughed off her outburst. “Just thought I'd offer. I figured you're probably sick of seeing me all the time.” Ragna breathed a sigh of relief.

“Not at all, Your Majesty. I apologize, Your Majesty, I-”

“Ragna, what did I say about the honorifics?” Claire asked teasingly.

“On-once per conversation, Your- ma'am.” Ragna looked at the floor, cheeks burning with shame yet again. How could she forget? Stupid, stupid!

“Hey, it's okay. It's late, you must be exhausted.” Claire smiled. Ragna curtsied and scurried off to fetch more pillows for the princess. Feeling rotten for waking the poor woman, Claire sat heavily in the lounge as she waited for her return, picking morosely at the too-perfect stitching on the arm. The one in Loki’s rooms had a small tear (Mochi’s doing), and some insipid love-struck part of her wanted this one to match. When did I turn into this pathetic man-needing wimp? I’m fawning over a Popsicle.

She had every right to be upset. So far her life as Asgard’s princess was nothing like she’d been told it would be- for all intents and purposes, her closest friend had decided she was the enemy, and she was very much nursing a wounded heart, and likely would be for a long time.

Claire was still brooding when Ragna returned, but she looked up with a smile when Ragna appeared with extra pillows in hand. Ragna scurried into the bedchamber and swiftly added the new pillows to the bed, fluffing them all to make sure the princess was as comfortable as possible.

“Thank you Ragna!” Claire got up from the couch when Ragna returned. She’d brooded long enough; she needed to stop thinking and go to sleep.

“You’re very welcome. May I be of any further service?” Ragna replied, wringing her hands in front of her. Claire zeroed in on the nervous behavior immediately.

“That was all I needed…are you alright?” Claire asked.

“Yes, of course,” Ragna nodded, quickly hiding her anxious hands behind her back. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” She gave a final curtsy and turned to leave.

“You too Ragna. See you tomorrow,” Claire offered a friendly wave as the other woman reached the door, smiling when Ragna returned the wave with a confused look. Claire went back to her bed, setting the pillows end to end and collapsing next to them. She curled an arm and a leg over them, snuggling under the blankets to get warm. Tomorrow she would press Ragna for more details. Part of her wondered if she would see Loki tomorrow. “God, I’m pathetic.” She laughed to herself. If only the pillows could grow some black hair and snore.

~~~~

“What do you mean, we’re leaving?” Claire asked dumbly. The queen had arrived in early morning with tea and news: the royal family was going on vacay.

“Did Loki not tell you?” Frigga paused, her spoon coming to a standstill in her porcelain tea cup. “It is our annual trip to the coast. We have gone every year since before Thor’s birth.”

“He failed to mention,” Claire replied flatly. “It must have slipped his mind.”

“He is rather busy, unfortunately.”

“That’s one word for it.” Claire muttered to herself as Frigga chattered away about the ‘adjustment period’ she’d gone through in the early days of her own marriage. Claire absently wondered if Odin had ever treated Frigga the way Loki was treating her. She couldn’t say she would be surprised if he had, but they seemed to tolerate each other- maybe even like each other.

Jesus, was that what she had to look forward to?

“-have your ladies pack your things straight away-” Frigga was still talking, having not noticed her daughter-in-law had checked out mentally. Claire sank back into her seat with a sigh, tea sloshing over her fingers.

“When do we leave?” she asked, watching the dark liquid drip from her palm onto the pristine floor.

~~~~

“The whole thing is horseshit,” Claire growled angrily as she and Ragna worked to pack her things. “No one said anything about a stupid family vacation.” Claire’s other ladies were tidying the rest of the apartment as the two worked in Claire’s bedroom. “Do you know anything about this?”

“Only that is an annual tradition,” Ragna shrugged. “I have never been directly involved before.”

“No?”

“No, my lady,” Ragna laughed politely. “Until I was assigned to you I did much more menial labor.”

“Well at least we’ll both get a break,” Claire said as Ragna zipped up her bag. “Frigga said the place has a dedicated staff, so you’ll get to relax while I’m gone.”

“I’m afraid servants do not get to ‘relax’, my lady.” Ragna replied softly, already sick to her stomach at the thought of the princess being gone. She would surely receive her master’s undivided attention until the princess returned.

~~~~

The realm was baking in the intense summer heat. The government was officially on hiatus for the season, and all creatures seemed to be avoiding the sun, choosing to spend their days lounging in the shade.

The royal family was currently traveling to their private oceanside estate to spend time together without the usual distractions. Odin and Frigga were in their own carriage, while Claire traveled with the princes in another. Loki had been reading since they’d started traveling two days ago, and Claire was trying to stave off boredom by introducing Thor to Breath of the Wild on her switch.

“Marvelous,” Thor exclaimed as he took down a bokoblin with a lightning arrow. “This Zelda is a fine warrior!”

“Dude,” Claire snickered. “That’s Link, remember? Zelda is the princess he’s trying to help.”

“He is very noble,” Thor replied absently, chuckling as he battled the rest of the bokoblins at their campsite. “Yes! Sister! Look at my prize!” he shoved the switch under her nose with childlike excitement.

“That’s a great item, actually,” Claire said excitedly as Thor received a bokoblin mask. “You can wear that next time you find some bokoblins and they’ll think you’re one of them.”

“And then I can slay them all when they least expect it!” Thor cackled, equipping the mask. Claire rolled her eyes fondly, looking across the carriage to see her husband frowning at his book. She nudged his knee with her own.

“Why so serious?”

“I’m reading.” Loki replied in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah I know,” Claire said as she looked out the window of the carriage. She hoped it wouldn’t be too much longer. The Asgardian countryside was beautiful, but the seat of the carriage was starting to make her ass hurt. “Anything interesting?”

“It’s a study of the wildlife in the area around our estate.”

“Loki reads it every year when we travel here,” Thor reported as he mingled with a group of unsuspecting bokoblins. “The book does not change, brother.”

“I realize that,” Loki hissed. “It has been some time since I have read the book, so the refresher is welcome. Besides, there is always something to learn. Just because our areas of interest differ-” Loki was interrupted by the panicked sounds of bokoblins and battle as Thor frantically smashed buttons, his face a comical mask of concentration with tongue sticking out and forehead wrinkled as he fought his enemy. Loki sighed, retreating to his book. “Why do I bother?” Hoping to calm the storm, Claire moved to sit beside Loki. Careful not to encroach on his space too much, she leaned over to look at his book.

“So what kind of wildlife are we talking about?” she asked, looking up at Loki’s stern face. “Is it like Australia where everything wants to kill you?”

“Australia?” Loki looked at her quizzically.

“It’s one of the continents back home. The animals are very dangerous.”

“Yet people travel there?”

“Oh yeah! It’s on my bucket list for sure, although I’m not looking forward to dealing with the spiders.” Loki opened his mouth to reply, forehead wrinkling as he paused.

“I must be misunderstanding,” he said after a moment. “When you say bucket list-”

“OH! It’s a list of things I want to do before I die.”

“I see,” Loki said softly. “And have you accomplished the items on your list?”

“Oh fuck no, there’s too many things on there,” Claire laughed. “Most people don’t get to, because- well because we usually die first. Do you have one?”

“No, I do not have a ‘bucket list’,” Loki scoffed, affronted by the question. “I’ve already accomplished more in my long life than several hundred humans will in theirs.” he said dismissively. Claire frowned as he turned the page. Across from them, Thor groaned loudly.

“Sister! Your machine is dying!”

“What do you mean it’s dying?”

“A little box appeared saying the consoles battery is low. I haven’t the time for this, I’m in the midst of battle!”

“You literally conduct electricity, my guy, just charge it back up.” Beside her, Loki harrumphed and turned a page moodily. Claire glanced over, wondering what the sulking prince’s problem was now.

The first month of their marriage had been wonderful- their honeymoon had been spent in near isolation at the family’s mountaintop cabin. But the second they’d returned to the city it was like a switch flipped. Now, Loki barely spoke to her, and Claire found it difficult to wrap her head around the fact this was the same man who’d once spent hours making her see stars on the daily. Instead of moving into Loki’s chambers like she’d been told she would, Claire had effectively been dumped back into the apartment she lived in before they’d married, and the new friend she thought she had was now more like a stranger. She couldn’t make sense of the change, and she was angry and embarrassed.

Loki didn’t seem to care at all.

In the distance, Claire spotted a large house from the carriage window. A sprawling three story mansion, it seemed out of place in the wild terrain around it. It was a house Claire would expect to see on a Hollywood boulevard, not a reclusive oceanside plateau.

“Holy shit, is that it?” Thor looked up from his battle, smiling in amusement as he watched her all but press her face against the glass like a child at the zoo. Loki barely glanced up from his book, rolling his eyes at the illustration on the page instead.

“Yes, sister, that is ‘it’,” Thor replied. “I’m most excited to show you around! I hope you shall find it a welcome change of pace from the city.”

A lot will have to change for that to happen.

“-we were younger, but the remodel will allow for you and Loki to have your own wing!” Thor continued.

“Do what now?”

“It is customary!” Thor shrugged. “Mother and Father have their own wing, and now you and Loki shall have your own to allow for...privacy…” Thor looked panicked now, glancing between Claire and Loki with growing trepidation.

“Oh do shut up, Thor!” Loki snarled, finally looking up from his book. “You know nothing about what you speak!”

“Perhaps if you paid more attention to your wife-”

“You pay enough attention to her for the both of us!” Loki’s book made a loud thud on the floor as he shot to his feet. The brothers were suddenly at each other’s throats, Claire’s switch falling to the side as Thor abandoned the bokoblins in favor of grappling with Loki. Plush leather squeaked beneath flying limbs as the brothers fought to overpower each other.

“Both of you stop it!” Claire shouted in her best mom voice, shoving the brothers apart into their respective seats. “Don’t make me stop this carriage!”

The brothers continued to glare at each other, but the threat seemed to work. Disgruntled silence took over what little conversation there had been, thick tension settling into the spaces between the three of them.

Thankfully the carriage ride didn’t last much longer. They arrived at the country estate in early afternoon, welcomed by the staff as they flanked the stairs into the large house.

Thor exited first, with Loki right behind him. Despite the stormy look on his face, Loki at least held out his hand to help her get out.

“Intimidating, isn’t it?” Frigga called as she stepped out of the first carriage. “I remember feeling quite small the first time I was brought here.”

“Loki and I go cliff diving each year. You should join us!” Thor crowed excitedly, slapping at Claire’s bicep as he cackled.

“Lady Claire is far too fragile-”

“I am so in,” Claire interrupted her father-in-law. “How high are we talking?” she asked eagerly.

“A good…” Thor lifted his hand, unsure how truthful to be. In years past, the brothers had always underplayed the risk, even though their parents surely knew it. “Forty feet? Perhaps less?”

“Oh,” Claire’s excitement deflated. “Well, I’d still like to see the cliffs at least.”

“Let us get settled in first.” Frigga reigned as the voice of reason, sending her children into the house to unpack before any shenanigans could take place.

~~~~

Thor hadn’t been kidding- she and Loki had an entire wing of the house to themselves. Their own staff, private en suite bathroom, dining room, sitting room, study, and bedroom. There was just one problem.

There was only one bed.

“This is a fanfiction,” Claire muttered to herself as Loki made (in her opinion) a ridiculous amount of noise unpacking his things in the en suite bathroom. “My life is a fanfiction.”

Fucking Frigga.

“There’s only one bed.”

“Yes,” Loki replied as he entered the main room. “My eyes work.”

“Okay, well-”

“Do relax, I am well aware-”

“What do you want me to do?!” Claire hissed quietly. She was determined to at least try not to be at each other’s throats for the entire time here, and rooming with enemy numero uno was already putting a kebosh on her good mood.

“Unpack, for starters,” Loki hissed back. “Honestly-”

“I meant about the bed, jerkwad. I am not sharing a bed with you-”

“No, you’re not,” a pointed snap of Loki’s fingers produced a comfortable looking pallet on the floor. “Will that suffice?”

“Why do you get the bed-”

“For Bor’s sake, woman,” Loki sighed. “The pallet is for me. Take the Odin forsaken bed and stop whining.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean, why?” Loki abandoned his quest of fluffing the pillow he’d produced to glare at her. “Whatever you think of me I do, in fact, possess a sense of chivalry.” Claire’s laugh cut a sharp swathe through the room, making his scowl deepen.

“Isn’t it a little early for telling jokes?” she scooted past his pallet to go into the bathroom. She wanted to unpack and change for cliff diving before she got too comfortable.

She’d just pulled on her board shorts when Loki stepped into the bathroom.

“Dude, get out!” Claire hissed. “Your gawking privileges are revoked!”

“Gawking privileges?!” Loki scoffed as she pulled her sports bra over her head. He barely saw a flash of silver before her perfect breasts were hidden from his gaze. “The last thing I want to do in all the realms is gawk at you!”

“Lie!” Claire found herself wedged between the door and her husband’s lean, muscular body in an instant as he caged her in.

“I...do...not...lie.” Did anybody order some intensity because damn… “Nothing smart to say?” Loki asked, his gorgeous green eyes blazing with fury as he stared down at her.

If she inched up just a smidge, she could kiss him stupid. And it would be so good.

Do it. Her body pleaded.

Please. Her pussy begged.

Thor chose that exact moment to come crashing through the door.

~~~~

“Uh...Thor?”

“Yes?”

“This is a lot higher than forty feet.” Claire said as she peered over the cliff face. “You wouldn’t have happened to be lying to your mother, would you?”

“Of course not,” Thor laughed nervously. “Boys take risks, this is something all mothers know.”

“Uh huh. How far is it really?”

“Sixty-five feet, perhaps seventy.”

“She cannot jump that, it is far too high,” Loki complained from behind them. “She is fragile-”

“Enough with the fragile bullshit,” Claire huffed. “People have fallen out of airplanes and survived.”

“Flying low to the ground, were they?”

“For your information, jackass, they were flying over 30,000 feet. The standard metric for survival is like 80 feet. There’s plenty of room for me to make the jump and survive.”

“You’d wager your safety on a margin that thin?” Loki scoffed.

“Why don’t I spartan kick you off the cliff and you can tell me if it’s safe?” Claire suggested. “Foot to the chest!” she huffed when both brothers opened their mouths to ask. Thor gasped excitedly.

“Yes, sister, kick me off the cliff! I have never done it that way before!” he pleaded. “Please, it will be so much fun!” Loki looked skeptically at Claire.

“He asked so nicely,” she said defensively. “Alright, step right up,” Thor bounced toward the edge of the cliff eagerly, stepping back until only the pads of his feet remained on the rocky surface. “Ready?”

“Yes!” Thor took another minuscule shuffle backwards, smiling with glee as Claire squared off in front of him. Claire kicked him with all her might, sending the god of thunder tumbling head over heels toward the choppy water, giggling like a child who’d had too much sugar.

“That is rather satisfying to watch,” Loki remarked as they watched Thor plummet toward the water. “You know, this could be considered attempted regicide.”

“Aw, we’ll have matching criminal records!”

“I never attempted regicide-”

“Uh, hello, New Mexico-”

“Fine, that I will admit to,” Loki muttered as Thor finally struck the water. He surfaced with a victorious shout, shaking his sodden hair out of his face. He shouted up to them, flashing a thumbs-up before swimming away from where he’d hit the water. “I am not kicking you off the cliff.”

“I wasn’t asking,” Claire slapped his bicep as she took a few long strides back. “Can you uh, clear the runway?” she waved him aside, giving him time to move his ridiculously tall body aside. “Thanks. See you in the water!” she took a running leap off the cliff, whooping with glee as she hurtled through the air. A few feet before she hit the water, she crossed her arms over her chest, plunging feet first into the dark choppy water. Thor hooted with glee as she resurfaced. The pair high fived when Claire swam over to join him, both of them calling up to Loki to jump.

Loki never was a big fan of heights after his ‘fall’ from the bifrost. Still, he was never one to pass up the opportunity to show up Thor.

He took a running start, and leapt over the edge. He made a clean entry into the dark water, but his seidr sent out a ripple that turned into a wave. When he surfaced, Thor was trying his damnedest to get back to them. Claire had found a perch on a nearby outcropping of rocks.

The slanting rays of the sun appeared from behind the cloud cover, giving her a shimmering appearance as the light reflected off the multitude of water droplets beading her skin. Her face was flushed from exertion as she wrung out the now-tangled mess of her hair. Loki swam toward her as if she were a siren, the familiar flip in his belly returning as she stretched her long legs out, dipping her feet into the water.

Claire cried out when his fingers closed around her ankle, her shriek turning into breathless laughter when he surfaced. She kicked a spray of water at him, jumping into the water beside him with a small splash.

“You survived.” she sounded pleased as her hands skimmed along his upper arms. She tread water just beside him, between him and the rock. The water level sat just above her breasts, augmenting an already delectable view. A gentle wave at his back pushed them closer together.

“So did you.” Loki’s eyes darted up to her eyes but based on her smirk, she’d already caught him looking. He recognized the hunger in her gaze with a smirk of his own. So much for his ‘gawking privileges’ being revoked.

“Told you I would.” another wave her pressed back against the rock, and he was bound by duty and lust to follow.

“So you did.” A bead of water rolled down her neck, catching his gaze. They were chest to chest now, her breasts pushing against him with each gentle rock of the waves.

He felt as though he would burst if he didn’t kiss her. Below the water, his cock throbbed with desire, eager to feel her come undone around him yet again. Her azure eyes dipped to his mouth, a sliver of her lower lip disappearing between her teeth as her grip on him tightened.

“I survived, in case you were wondering!” Thor shouted from a nearby rock, startling them apart. In an instant, the spell was broken and Claire’s hands dropped as though he’d burned her.

“I wasn’t!” Loki shouted back. “The universe surely would have ended if he hadn’t.” he murmured just low enough for Claire to hear.

“Tomorrow, we shall go out on the boat, and fish for our supper,” Thor announced as he climbed onto a rock. “The fish here are huge!”

“Thor, what the hell-” Claire whirled away from her brother-in-law, shielding her eyes from his naked body. “Where are your pants?!”

“What?”

“You’re naked, you oaf!” Loki cried over the crashing of the waves.

“I think I may jump again!” Thor was saying gaily as he twisted his long locks to spatter the rock he sat on with water. His nudity was clearly of no import to him. “The spartan kick was fun, but I think I prefer diving without assistance.”

“I think once was enough for me,” Claire announced, still pointedly avoiding looking in Thor’s direction. “I’m gonna head back.”

“I’ll escort you.” Loki was quick to volunteer.

“I don’t need an escort, it’s a five minute walk.”

“Let me see you to the beach, at least,” Loki offered. They swam around the jetty, walking ashore just around the bend onto the sandy beach. The sun was beginning to go down, the fluffy white of the clouds now slanted and growing gray. “I apologize for Thor’s behavior.”

“Eh, not the first time I’ve seen a dude naked.” Claire shrugged, content to let the conversation die. She’d wanted five minutes alone before she had to share a room with her insanely hot husband. Loki, however, seemed to have no desire to shut up.

“We should fix your hair before we return.”

“Why bother? I’m going to get in the bath when we get back.”

Odin’s beard.

He needed to stay focused. He did not need to be thinking about his wife naked and covered in-

A loud splash from further out to sea caught their attention.

“Are those whales?!” Claire gasped in awe as the mighty beasts broke through the water, creating rainbows in the fading sun as they splashed. She bounced into the surf, a bright smile on her face.

“Close,” Loki replied. “They are hval, very much like your home's whales, although they are bigger.”

“They must be huge,” Claire sighed. “The whales on Earth are the biggest animals on the planet.”

“Hval are very friendly,” Loki said. “Though rather intimidating due to their size. Most avoid them because of it. We may be in luck and see some young. It’s not too late in the year and they are probably still little.”

“Aw. I’d love to see them up close,” Claire murmured. “I always wanted to see whales back home and never got to.”

“Bucket list?” Loki guessed softly.

“Bucket list,” Claire confirmed with a smile, warmth filling her when Loki smiled back. She looked back at the group of hval. “Maybe someday.”

“Why not today?” Loki asked, an idea taking root in his mind. “After all, you are still mortal and may die any day.”

“That’s very true. Humans are lame,” Claire laughed. Loki laughed in surprise as she took his comment in stride. “How are we getting out there? Did you want to take the boat?” Loki grinned. “Also, you have a boat? Why was I not informed of this until now?”

“We could take the boat, but I was thinking of a more…immersive experience.”

“Which is...?”

“Do you trust me?” Loki asked earnestly, offering her his hand. Claire hesitated, eyes locked on the appendage.

I want to.

He was asking a lot of her, he knew, especially given the climate between them prior to this trip. Loki wouldn’t be surprised if she said no.

“I trust you, Loki.” Claire could tell that whatever Loki was offering, it was sincere. Loki smiled as she put her hand in his. Claire watched in awe as he stepped into the surf, the water solidifying beneath his bare feet and becoming a small platform for them to stand on. He helped her step onto the platform, his free hand landing on her lower back for balance. “Magic?” Claire asked excitedly.

“Seidr,” Loki corrected gently, puffing up with pride at Claire’s muttered ‘amazing’. “Hold onto me.” Claire wrapped her arm around his middle, squealing with delight as the platform began to glide over the water’s surface toward the frolicking hval. They stopped a fair distance away from the group, close enough to see the young splashing happily around their parents. “Would you like to see them closer still?”

“You mean like in the water?”

“Precisely.”

“We won't get eaten?”

“No,” Loki laughed. “The hval do not eat tiny creatures like us. Well, like you.” he glanced down at her with amusement.

“Is that a joke?” Claire asked in surprise. Loki grinned minutely, making her gasp. “That was a joke! I'm impressed.”

“I am capable of humor, little wife.”

“Uh huh,” Claire clapped her hands together, rubbing her palms eagerly. “Alright, let's swim with the hval. Lead on, mischief.” Loki gave her an odd look, but smiled nonetheless. He raised his hands with palms toward her, taking a step closer on the small platform.

“This may hurt,” he cautioned, giving her time to back out. Claire did not protest as he'd expected, shrugging his words away. Loki cupped her face in his hands, his long fingers working into the damp hair at the base of her skull. Their eyes connected as he stepped even closer, close enough her chest rubbed against his as she breathed. He could easily kill her. It would be all too easy to snap her delicate neck.

Claire would have come to the same conclusion and she still let him touch her. She actually trusted him. An unexpected warmth settled into Loki's chest, making him smile. “Take a breath,” He urged her, calling his seidr to his fingertips. Claire yelped as the seidr did its work, and Loki took her weight when she wobbled. “Relax,” He coached. “Breathe out slowly, but not in until we get into the water. It will be foreign to you, but you will be able to breathe just fine.” He pulled away his hands, watching her hands flit to the tender spots on her neck. Her fingers probed at the sensitive flesh, eyes widening with both alarm and awe as she realized what he'd done. She gestured to the new gills on her neck pointedly, an eyebrow raised judgmentally. “Ready?” Claire nodded eagerly. In a flash, he used his seidr on himself and grabbed Claire by the hand. Together they plunged into the cool dark water, sinking down well below the water level. The hval were a little ways ahead of them, and Loki reached out to grab her hand. They started swimming toward the hval, enjoying their melodic songs as the creatures played. They stopped a fair ways away from the hval, watching them play and listening to them sing.

Claire swam closer to Loki, worried about drifting away. Loki pulled her body against his own, wrapping his long arms around her as her back plastered to his front. Loki pointed out a calf to her, swimming alongside its mother. The calf, curious about the newcomers, swam closer until Loki was able to put a hand out and touch it. Claire reached out to pet the calf, running her hand from the crown of its head to its dorsal fin. The calf quickly decided the pets were nice enough to outweigh any possible danger, and soon was swimming circles around them, singing in delight as they pet it. A distant song from its mother made the calf pull away from their hands and go back to the pod, leaving Claire and Loki to watch in awe at the creatures.

Loki gestured over his shoulder toward the shore, and Claire nodded, exhaustion from their adventure starting to seep in. Loki grabbed her hand again and began pulling her through the water back to land, his inky black hair fanning out in the water like tentacles. Claire thought he looked beautiful, even though the gills were new and alarming. Somehow he managed to pull those off too, the jackass.

It was only as they approached the shore that Claire spotted the other schools of fish around them. Schools of little fish in a rainbow of colors darted in and around long fingers of kelp and colorful branches of coral. Fading rays of sunlight dappled the landscape below, the banks of coral giving way to smooth sand as they approached the shoreline.

The gills faded away as Claire popped through the ocean’s surface. Loki surfaced right behind her, his neck also now free of gills.

“That was SO COOL!” Claire shouted as she strode out of the sea. Out in the open water, the hval still frolicked- their joyful noise carrying over the waves they created as they jumped and splashed. Loki joined her on the sand, looking on with pride as she practically glowed with happiness. “I think that’s the coolest thing I’ve ever done,” she swooned, hands cupping her aching cheeks as she approached him. Her hands reached for him, clutching his arms tightly as she pulled him close. “Thank you!”

Taken aback by the sudden hug, it took Loki a moment to reciprocate but when he did, he was reminded of Claire’s words from before they’d wed. The first time they’d hugged, she’d said they fit. And they did. Perfectly.

Allowing himself a moment of weakness, he buried his face in her hair and enjoyed the moment. The waves lapped at their ankles, burying their bare feet in the warm sand. It was soothing, paired with the rise and fall of her chest against his and the feeling of her arms locked around his rib cage.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” Claire hummed against his chest, the closeness setting off a rapid beating in his heart.

“That definitely wouldn’t have happened with Thor.” she sighed contentedly, eyes still locked on the hval out at sea.

The words cut like a knife. Why did she insist on hurting him so?

“We should return,” he said woodenly, stepping out of her grasp before she could so much as breathe. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Claire glanced up at the darkening sky. “I need a bath and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”

“Hmm.” Loki was finally quiet like she’d wanted, but now Claire missed the conversation.

~~~~

The next day dawned bright and hot, the sun seeming to work extra hard to brown their skin as the family of five made the short walk to the dock. Thor and Loki scampered ahead, Thor cackling with childlike glee as he walked up the gangplank. They made quite a pair: Thor eagerly calling for Loki to pull this, steady that, all the while Loki grumbled and rolled his eyes but did it anyway.

The boat was not at all what Claire had expected. The more appropriate word would probably be ‘yacht’, but she supposed when you had insane amounts of wealth...

“Magnificent, is it not?” Frigga asked at her side. Odin did not break his stride to talk to them, purposefully striding aboard the massive vessel. Claire cast wide eyes up, up, up the blinding white siding of the yacht. The main deck where Thor and Loki were hard at work preparing to sail had partial shade from the upper decks, but the space alongside the railings had plush seating for lounging.

This was definitely not a working vessel. This was a pleasure cruiser.

“Yeah, it’s...it’s something,” Claire replied as she and Frigga stepped on board. “Why are there sails? Surely something this big would have a motor.” She followed Frigga into the shade, where they both set their bags on a table and found seats. Under the canopy of the upper deck, there was more seating, with open air windows and a bar with stools. Toward the stern of the boat, one staircase disappeared below deck while another slunk upstairs.

“Oh no, dear, a motor would be harmful to the wildlife! In the city we use them because there are fewer animals that could be harmed, and of course motors are faster than sails should someone attack, but we prefer to live in harmony with the other creatures we share the realm with.”

“Oh okay, I see.” Claire did not see. How long were they planning to be on this boat? From the look of the sails, Claire half expected Odin to declare they were going to the new world in search of gold and spices. Claire glanced down at the day bag she’d packed mournfully, wondering if the bathing suit, sunscreen and flip flops she’d packed would be enough.

“It truly is a glorious day,” Frigga sighed happily, taking in a lungful of salty sea air. “Don’t you agree?” Out in the sun, Thor and Loki worked to bring the anchor aboard, the clanging of metal providing a contrasting song to the harsh cawing of gulls overhead. Waves slapped at the hull below impatiently, as if urging the boat to get a move on already.

Thor had already misplaced his shirt, Claire noted with a roll of her eyes. Her brother-in-law was kinda vain, but Claire supposed if she looked like that she probably would be too. Loki was still dressed in his loose fitting pants and shirt, his long dark hair whipping about in the wicked wind. Facing away from them as he was, Claire had a very nice view of his ass.

“Oh yes,” Claire agreed as Loki pulled a rope with all his might, teeth gritted and muscles straining as he tied it around an anchor point. “Very nice.”

“Sister! Come see!” Thor shouted, waving her out into the sunlight once again. His golden hair gleamed in the hot sun, his cheeks already red with exertion. The veins in his muscled arms bulged as he tugged hard on a length of rope. Claire glanced at her mother-in-law briefly before sliding out of her seat to join the brothers.

“What am I lookin’ at?” she called over the sound of the waves.

“Here, grab the aft!” Thor called over his shoulder, tossing her the free end of the rope he was battling.

“I am not touching that,” Claire shook her head, letting the rope fall limp on the deck. “I don’t know where your aft has been.” Thor guffawed loudly, tying off his portion of rope before he came to her aid.

“Clever,” he praised. “Aft simply means ‘the back’.”

“That I do know,” Claire nodded. “We use the same terms for the helicarrier and other aviation craft.”

“See the largest sail, up there?” Thor pointed high overhead, his beefy hand clasping around her shoulder as he leaned into her space. Claire looked up and sure enough, that was a sail.

“Kinda hard not to,” she replied. “What about it?”

“That is connected to this rope, and it’s the most important of all the sails. It’s connected to this halyard here,” Thor slapped his palm on a horizontal beam of polished wood. “We need all the help we can get with the main sail, and since this is your first time on the boat, I thought you might like to try it.”

“Oh cool,” Claire murmured. “Sure, why not? Who hasn’t dreamed of being a pirate once or twice in their life?”

“You’re no pirate!” Thor’s laughter boomed in her ear, sending bone-rattling vibrations throughout her body. “You are a warrior, through and through!”

“What do you need me to do?” Claire asked as Loki joined them.

“You’ll have the most important task,” Thor proclaimed. “You will be directing us.”

“What? You’re nuts,” Claire protested. “I’ve never done this before; I don’t know-”

“You will do fine,” Thor promised, patting her head like he would a child. Claire glared at him from under his massive palm, shaking his hand off her. “It is easy to do, except for the last few feet.”

“Perhaps this would be best left to us.” Loki offered.

“Nonsense, brother! Let your wife prove herself!” Thor smacked a large hand against Loki’s ribs, air rushing from Loki in a soft ‘oof’.

“Okay, Thor you’ll be up front, I guess. Loki, you take the middle, and I’ll tie it off.”

“A brilliant plan,” Thor praised, striding confidently toward the halyard to grab the rope. “Are you ready, brother?”

“Yes,” Loki huffed impatiently, his usually pale skin pink and flushed. “Let’s get this done.”

“Alright then,” Claire cracked her knuckles, rolling her head and shoulders to get focused. “Giddy up!”

“We’re not horses!” Loki complained, taken aback by the length of rope that Thor cast to him before he raced to pick up the slack. Thor worked like a madman, pulling the rope hand over fist and cackling as the sail began to rise. Claire nabbed the loose end of the rope off the deck and started tying it off in a figure eight on the nearest mooring.

The main sail was halfway up the mast, already beginning to fill as it began to catch the breeze.

“Keep going!” Claire shouted, the rope making the skin on her hands burn as she hurried to keep up with the brothers. The rope lurched to a stop when the sail was only a few feet from the top, and both Thor and Loki had to pull with all their strength to secure it. Claire was grateful she had the rope to focus on, because she wanted nothing more than to ogle her husband as he strained to hold the rope in place. The material of his pants strained over his thighs, the sleeves of his shirt struggled against the swell of his biceps as veins bulged in his forearms and hands.

With a loud roar, Thor pulled the rope with all his might and the sail was finally in place. Claire finished tying off the rope as Loki held it taut in his iron grip.

“Thanks.” Claire brushed off her legs as she stood up straight. Loki nodded, hands falling away from the rope. He melted into the background as Thor came up to congratulate her.

“Well done, sister! A fine job on your first try,” the god of thunder praised. “What did you think?”

“It was fun,” Claire smiled. It had been oddly exhilarating. “I’d like to learn more.”

“I’d be delighted to teach you everything-” There was a sudden crack of wood giving way, and a whistle of speeding rope.

“Look out!” Loki’s shout echoed on the water, and both Claire and Thor looked over to see something hurtling toward them.

“Jesus!” Claire shrank back as a piece of metal smacked directly into Thor’s face, making him stagger back with a groan of pain. “Are you okay?!”

“I am fine,” Thor shook his head, clearly feeling dizzy as his feet shuffled on the slippery deck. “No harm done.”

“I am sorry brother, it slipped from my grasp,” Loki said apologetically as he approached, showing a bloody cut on his palm. Something about it stood out to Claire, a shimmer of green that was decidedly out of place. Loki noticed her staring, Claire raising a brow accusingly as their eyes met. A corner of Loki’s mouth turned up almost imperceptibly, and his fingers curled inward to shield his palm from view. “That damn rope is far too slippery to handle alone. Are you alright?” he asked Thor.

“I am fine! It will take more than that to topple the mighty Thor!” Thor said boastfully, even as his legs wobbled beneath him.

“Why don’t you take a break?” Claire suggested.

“Nonsense!” Thor cried, striding past her onto the deck to help Loki with the rest of the sails. “Go sister, you’ve done your part.”

“Are you sure? You’ve got a bruise…” Thor waved away Claire’s concern, heading to the front of the boat to assess the damage. Men. Rolling her eyes, Claire retreated to the shade to sit with Frigga again.

Behind her, Thor and Loki were back hard at work pulling lines of ropes and tying them in place to raise the other sails. The white sails were beginning to catch the hardy breeze, limp material swelling full and round.

The boat lurched forward with the next strong breeze, Odin steering them away from the dock from his place at the helm.

As the dock grew smaller behind them, Claire looked out to the open sea. At the bow, Loki and Thor were having a heated discussion, and while Claire could not tell what they were saying, the pinched looks on their faces gave her a vague idea.

~~~~

Odin steered them far out into open water by mid morning. Frigga had done her best to keep her grouchy sons plied with snacks, but tensions were still high as the fishing poles were brought out.

Claire had not been expecting the sheer size of the fish they caught. Larger than sea turtles, the fish were colorful and equipped with scales as sharp as knives and stinging barbs. They were kind of cute, in an ugly way, but they were also delicious.

After lunch, Loki was the first to jump in the cool dark water. Thor followed quickly after, purposely jumping on Loki and causing tempers to flare again. Frigga and Claire shared a droll look as Odin barreled into the fray in an odd display of camaraderie. Frigga stepped off the boat’s deck, slipping elegantly into the water with the tiniest splash Claire had ever seen. The brothers were still fighting, trading splashes and petty blows. Frigga and Odin were ignoring them, drifting off to their own area shadowed by the boat.

Instead of jumping straight off the deck, Claire climbed the stairs to the top deck of the boat. There was nothing on this level except a bench for laying in the sun and some bucket style seats, presumably for sight seeing. Peering over the railing, Claire could see the brothers down below.

Without another thought, Claire stepped up and dropped over the railing. Wind whistled in her ears as she hurtled toward the dark water and the brothers. She tucked her legs into her chest just before she hit the water, the brothers’ cries of protest falling on gravity’s deaf ears. Claire touched down right between the two, splashing both of them and forcing them apart.

The stark cold of the water was a shock, sending Claire scrambling to the surface to shout “COOOOLD!”

Loki was still complaining loudly as he tried to clear the water from his eyes when she surfaced.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked heatedly, angrily squinting at her through sea water.

“Lots of things,” Claire shrugged. “You’re being dumb.”

“I’m being dumb?” Loki scoffed. “What about him?!” he gestured to Thor, who was busy blowing his nose into the water.

“You’re both being dumb,” Claire said as Thor gave a particularly loud snort, expelling a gooey snot rocket into the choppy waves. “Case in point,” Thor wiped his nose with his fingers, playing with the leftover sticky mess with his thumb and forefinger. “Yeah, I’m out.” The water was delightfully cold, but she had zero interest in swimming with Thor’s boogers.

“Do not lump me in with him!” Loki called after her as Claire swam back to the boat. He followed behind her, leaving Thor to his snotty water. Claire was already partway up the ladder when he rounded the boat, her delectable body glistening in the sun as she climbed to the deck. Instead of lounging in one of the seats on the main deck, she climbed to the top deck.

The bench on the top deck was blazing hot as Claire laid her tired body on it. It was a nice place to rest, even though between the sun and the hot material beneath her Claire swore she could feel steam rising from her body. Claire lay on her belly, resting her head on her crossed arms and closing her eyes against the harsh sun.

Familiar footsteps followed her up to the top deck, falling short as they reached the top. She could practically feel Loki’s gaze on her, but if he didn’t want to speak up, she’d go on pretending he wasn’t there.

Loki paused as Claire’s supine form came into view. He’d barely seen her before she’d hit the water, but now…

Her long legs glistened, beads of water slipping down the meat of her thighs onto the mat. The teal material hugged the curves of her waist, moisture gathered in the dip of her spine. He could see the straps of the top stretch and give with each rise and fall of her back, and more beads of water dotting her shoulders. The curve of muscle in her arms were pronounced as she lay with her head on her forearms, droplets of water dripping onto the mat below. Her wet hair was dark as pitch, thrown over one shoulder and spilling across the bench like spilled ink.

“What are you doing?” he asked. Claire’s blue eyes opened, her head lifting to look over her shoulder.

“Working on my tan. What are you doing?” she settled back into her previous pose, drawing Loki’s eyes along her body.

“You wear this in public?” Loki gawked at her, his eyes tracking every droplet of water cascading down her body. To his eyes the two piece bathing suit was decadently indecent, simultaneously demanding he touch her and shield her from view. The artwork on her hip was somehow even more beautiful when wet, the moisture making the colors more vibrant in the afternoon sun. He’d not touched her since their return from their honeymoon, a detail his body was begging him to rectify despite his best judgment. Her beauty devastated him, burning him with desire so strong he nearly fell to his knees at her feet. Claire rolled to her side, resting her weight on one elbow as she stared up at him. Loki’s eyes followed the movement, fingers itching to touch as she bent one knee, her free arm resting on her hip.

“Um...yeah?” Claire looked down at her bathing suit questioningly. “What's wrong with it?”

“Nothing at all,” Loki purred, stepping closer to her. “It’s quite fetching, actually.”

“M’kay,” Claire hummed as she settled onto her back. “Thanks, I guess?”

“Though if there were others around, I may have to kill them on principle.”

“You’re being weird again,” Claire gave a long sigh and got to her feet, sending Loki’s heart rate through the room when he got an eye full of her scantily clad ass. His feet crossed the floor of their own volition, bringing them face to face. “Can I...help you?” Loki grabbed her chin in his long fingers, tilting her face up to lock their gazes. Her long eyelashes framed her azure eyes as she gazed up at him, clearly surprised by his actions. Leaning down to press his lips to hers, Loki worked the straps of her soaking top down her arms with his fingers. Claire rocked on her feet, pressing closer to him as he freed her breasts from the sodden material. Loki's hands on her biceps steered her backward, the back of her calves hitting the low edge of the bench. Her nipples were already taut from the cold water, the sudden change in temperature making her gasp as his hot mouth closed over the pebbled skin.

“Loki-” her argument died as his lips closed around her other nipple, large hands finding their way to her hips and holding her against him possessively. God, she loved the intensity. Loki released his hold on her to dig through the nearby storage bin, hands moving in rapid movements she could barely follow. He produced a fleece blanket from the bin and held it up between them, before laying it on the bench. He took her hands and helped her to lay down, following her descent with his own.

Loki ran his large hands up her legs, parting her thighs and ghosting his thumb over the wet material covering her folds. Claire jolted, her breath escaping her hard and heavy as Loki loomed over her body. He reached inside his pants and adjusted his straining cock before settling between her legs and gathering her in his arms as he pressed his groin against her center with a groan. His impressive cock pressed against her sex just right, the head rubbing her clit through the material of their clothes and making her eyes glaze over with pleasure.

“Gods, you are magnificent,” Loki groaned as he rutted against her. Claire's brain raised a note of interest at that- with the way he'd ignored her she hadn't thought Loki found her attractive anymore. She'd have to muse on that later, when her husband wasn't dry humping her to ecstasy. “I wish-” Loki stopped short, a quick thrust of his hips making her gasp.

“What?” She urged, pulling him closer by the fabric of his tunic. “Say it.”

“Nothing,” He denied, frowning. “Many things. Never mind.” He pulled away from her as if a trance had broken, leaving them both unsatisfied and his mind and body even more flustered than before. He helped her sit up and practically evaporated, disappearing as quickly as he'd arrived.

“What the fuck was that?” Claire asked the empty space around her.

~~~~

Later that night, the room shared by the prince and princess royal was silent as a tomb. It was too early to be asleep, too late to have outside company. Loki had not so much as looked in her direction since he’d left her on the top deck. All through the journey back to shore, the short walk back to the mansion, even during dinner. It was like he looked everywhere but her general direction; as though if he tried hard enough not to see her she would cease to exist.

Now he laid on the pallet he’d conjured, eyes resolutely fixed on the book he held above his handsome face. The slanted light threw his already sharp cheekbones into even sharper relief.

Claire knew he wasn’t actually reading. The dumbass was only pretending. The turning of the pages was steady, each crinkle of the paper timed to the second. If Claire wasn’t so annoyed, she’d be impressed by his commitment to the bit.

Claire wasn’t in any place to judge, because instead of ignoring Loki right back, she’d instead been counting along with him. As she’d laid there absently gazing up at the ceiling, she’d started anticipating the page turns, queueing the sound with a flick of her finger.

“So are we gonna talk about it?”

“What?” the low rumble of Loki’s voice slid over her skin like velvet, a flash memory of searing heat reminding her of earlier that day.

“’What?’” Claire echoed, brows furrowing as she glared at him from the bed. She shot up, pillow sailing directly into his face and making him drop his book. “WHAT?!”

“Saying it louder-” a knock on the door made them both stop in their tracks, freezing in fear when Frigga’s voice called through the door.

“May I come in?” In a flash, the pallet had disappeared and Loki was practically crashing into her- toned thigh touching hers, long fingers clasped around her knee- as Frigga opened the door. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“Of course not, Mother.” Frigga held up the folded blanket in her arms as she stepped inside.

“I started searching for this when we arrived yesterday but just now came across it,” she explained, putting the blanket on the foot of the bed. “It was a gift from my mother-in-law to me, and now it is time I pass it on to you.”

“Oh that’s so nice-”

“You see Odin and I also struggled to conceive at first-” the balloon of Claire’s sanity popped instantly, her blood running cold at the thought of...conceiving. Barf. Claire hurried to plaster a non-horrified look on her face as she realized Frigga was still speaking. “-Blanket has magical powers and I am certain it will help you to conceive too!”

“Great,” Claire said weakly, bile crawling up her esophagus despite her best efforts to tamp it down. “Thank you...so much.”

“You’re very welcome, dear,” Frigga’s eyes bounced from the blanket to the two of them squished together on the bed and back to the blanket. “Good night, my darlings.”

“Good night Mother,” Loki called after her, the plastered on smile dropping as soon as the door latch engaged. He slid off the bed without a second glance, pointedly avoiding the mystical baby making blanket and leaving a distinct lack of heat behind. Claire stared at the ugly thing with trepidation, as if semen might ooze from it at any moment. “Well that was...lovely.”

“I think you mean horrifying.” Claire wondered if there was a sanitizing spray she could dig up. She wanted no part of whatever germs or powers or whatever was on that blanket.

“It is expected-”

“Believe me, I know. No one will let me forget,” Claire snarked. “Doesn’t mean I want Allfather cooties where I sleep,” she cringed, inching the blanket further away with the foot buried under the blankets. “I still think we should talk about it.”

“It’s rather hard to focus on anything with that in the room,” Loki hefted an accusatory finger at the blanket, the woven honeycomb design somehow innocent and menacing at the same time. “It feels as though it’s looking at me.”

“Okay so...burn it, or flush it down the toilet,” Claire suggested. A single slim eyebrow judged her from the pallet. “What? Don’t act like you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

“This is a family heirloom, we cannot-”

“You suck,” Claire groused. “Fine, just shove it under the bed or something. I don’t care, let’s focus on the actual topic of conversation.

“Shan’t,” Loki shook his head, abandoning the bed and blanket to lay back in his pallet. A flash of green seidr dimmed the fire, deepening the already dark shadows.

“Fine,” Claire snarled. “Fine, have it your way. We’ll just ignore each other for the rest of our fucking marriage and act like everything is fine!” she lay flat so hard and fast she bounced, breath leaving her in a furious huff. Honest to god he made her want to spit fire.

“That is not what I-”

“Can’t hear you; I’m ignoring you.”

“Will you please-”

“SHAN’T!” Claire pointedly turned her back to him, curling up in a ball beneath the blankets. Revulsion coiled in her belly as she remembered the ‘special blanket’ Frigga had left them. Claire shot up and whipped the blanket in Loki’s general direction, obviously hitting him judging by the noise of complaint. “You can take the baby blanket. It gives me the willies.”

“How thoughtful.” Loki kicked the blanket as far away from his body as possible, turning on his side to face the wall and away from his wife. Damn, stubborn, beautiful woman.

~~~~

The carriage ride back to the palace was tense, and silent apart from the sounds of Thor murdering bokoblins and Loki turning the page of his book. The bastard was still resolutely avoiding even glancing in her direction which was remarkable, because if Claire had her way, the force of her stare would have bored two new holes in his head by now.

Seriously, what the fuck was his damage?

They’d had a great time swimming with the hvals, then he leaves her high and dry wet and desperate on the boat, and now he’s back to ignoring her? Who does that?!

And not that it was anyone’s business, but the hurried orgasms she’d given herself in her short windows of alone time were not nearly as satisfactory, which only added to her frustration. She wanted to scream and punch his perfect teeth in. And maybe (definitely) ride his thigh.

A splash of orange outside the carriage window caught her eye, and she sat up at attention. Freckled among the tall grass alongside the road, vibrant orange tiger lilies swayed in the pleasant breeze.

Mom’s favorite. Claire shot to her feet, her heart in her throat.

“STOP!” she swayed with the carriage, darting out into the tall grass as soon as the carriage stopped. Loki looked up, perturbed by the sudden stop.

“Why are you looking at me?” Thor didn’t glance up from his game. “She’s your wife.” Loki huffed, slamming his book closed as he got to his feet.

Claire wasn’t anywhere to be seen, even with his superior height. She wouldn’t run, would she? He sighed with relief when the breeze made the tall grass sway, and her brown hair came into view. He picked his way toward her, watching as she carefully selected blooms to pluck. She’d already picked several, creating a small bouquet in her hand.

“We have flowers at the palace,” he said as he reached her little enclave in the grass. “Ones that are...less common.”

“I don’t care about that,” Claire replied, adjusting the frail petals lovingly so none of them overlapped. She swallowed against the lump in her throat, adding another bloom to her small bouquet. “They’re my moms favorite.” Finding them by chance, at a time when she felt so alone...it felt like a sign. That maybe things would be okay, with time.

“I see.”

“Ugh, my allergies are terrible today,” Claire dabbed the corner of her eyes as she sniffed. “I’m ready to go.”

“You’re allergic to the flowers, yet you picked them?”

“Not to the flowers, tree pollen.”

“What trees?” Loki glanced around the open plain on all sides. The nearest trees were small, dark, blurry shapes in the very far distance.

“I mean grass.” Claire said quickly.

“Ah,” Loki nodded, eyes surveying the literal sea of grass they stood in. “Well, what an unfortunate setting you’ve put yourself in.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself. Can we go?”

“Merely waiting on you!” Loki made an exaggerated gesture to usher her forward. Claire rolled her eyes and traipsed forward, cradling the bouquet against her chest. The carriage door still hung open, and Claire could just spy Thor’s foot hanging out, his beefy arms holding her switch above his head as he slouched in the seat.

“Hey Thor, can you budge up for a minute please?”

“Of course.” Thor moved aside so she could climb into the carriage, frowning when Loki slammed the door shut loudly behind them. He rapped on the carriage ceiling twice, sinking back into his seat as the carriage began to move.

“Did you know Midgardians can be allergic to grass? What an absurd genetic trait.” Loki announced.

“Can we move on from the grass,” Claire groaned. “And FYI, not all allergies are genetic. Some people develop allergies later in life.”

“And this is useful?” Loki asked skeptically.

“Sometimes. If you must know, I happen to have developed one just recently.”

“To what? Is it serious?” Thor asked gravely.

“I don’t really know how to explain it-”

“Well describe it!” Thor pressed. “You ought to let your staff know, when we return.”

“Well...” Claire gave a heavy sigh, as if deeply troubled by the information she was about to share. “It’s big. Like 6-2. And pale. Moody, wears a lot of leather-”

“That sounds like you, brother!” Thor cackled.

“Yep, that’s the joke.” Claire laughed.

“Well it just so happens I’ve also developed an allergy,” Loki hissed. “To you-”

“The events on the boat say otherwise.” Claire volleyed, enjoying the flush of anger that colored Loki’s cheeks. Checkmate.

“What happened on the boat?” Thor asked, his “quiet” tone still too loud.

“Never you mind-”

“Don’t worry about it, Thor. It’s not for your virgin ears.” Claire replied as she settled back into the plush seat, watching the grass go by. Thor scoffed, launching into a lengthy diatribe about he, god of thunder and son of Odin, was no meek virgin.

Loki glared at her from across the carriage, a clear do-you-see-what-you’ve-done expression on his face. Claire smirked, hoping the swaying of the carriage would lull her to sleep quickly.

Maybe things would work out in time, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t put up a fight.

~~~~

As soon as they arrived back at the palace, Loki split from their group almost immediately, to no one’s surprise. Claire’s ladies were waiting for her as she stepped out of the carriage, but Ragna kept her head down as she and the other ladies grabbed Claire’s things from the carriage and began to escort her back to her chambers.

“Soooo what did everyone do while I was gone?” Claire asked as they walked. “Helga, Koza, did you do anything fun?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Helga replied. “We had other duties to attend to.”

“I see. Kari, how about you? Any exciting gossip I should know?” Kari was the biggest gossip of the bunch, and knew everything about everyone.

“Oh yes, Your Majesty, you will never believe what transpired between Fandral and-”

“Enough gossip, Kari,” Ragna chided harshly. “Her Majesty is surely tired from her travel, we shall unpack her things and leave her to rest.”

“Yes of course,” Kari said meekly, ducking her head as she curtsied. Gunnar bowed at Claire as she reached the door, smiling as he opened the door. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

“There’s nothing to forgive; I asked,” Claire replied. “Tell me later.” she whispered, winking at Kari when the younger woman grinned.

The three ladies made quick work of unpacking under Ragna’s direction, each of them summarily dismissed until it was just Claire and Ragna left alone.

“So…” Ragna began. “What really happened on the trip?” she smiled faintly, her lip still split and painful.

“Oh my god, Ragna, he’s such a twat-” Ragna’s harsh laugh caught them both by surprise, her head thrown back as she forgot herself for the briefest moment. “Jesus, Ragna, what happened?” Claire gasped as Ragna’s swollen face finally came into view. Her eyes scanned Ragna’s face cataloging the injuries: split bottom lip, an angry pink bruise around an eye, scrapes along her cheekbone. A dark smattering of bruises littered the column of her throat, where someone had viciously choked her.

“My master-” Ragna said hoarsely, clearing her throat as she diverted her gaze. “Forgive me, I am still unable to speak normally.”

“No apology needed,” Claire said, dumping her bag on the floor. “Please sit,” Claire stepped into her bedroom, fetching the mini first aid kit from her armoire before going back to Ragna. “I’m no healer, but I’m handy at first aid. Let me look?” she asked. Ragna nodded meekly, still hesitant to meet Claire’s gaze.

“Thank you.”

“Would you like to talk about it?” Claire asked as she dabbed antiseptic on Ragna’s scrapes.

“I cannot,” Ragna’s voice warbled as tears gathered in her eyes. “You will despise me.”

“That’s not true,” Claire said gently. “There’s nothing you could have done to deserve this.”

“My master...disagrees,” Ragna said cautiously, wincing as Claire prodded at a tender spot at her temple. “He was displeased that I remained in the palace while you traveled.”

“So he choked you?” Claire asked incredulously. “It wasn’t your call. Hell, it wasn’t even mine.”

“I apologize-”

“Ragna, no,” Claire covered Ragna’s shaking hands with her own. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I should have insisted you came along; I knew something was going on-”

“Your Majesty, please-”

“This has gone too far,” Claire shook her head. “Let’s get you to the healers, and then you can tell me what’s been going on.”

“It is nothing.”

“This is not nothing, Ragna. You do not deserve to be abused and I will not stand for it,” Claire got to her feet, offering Ragna her hands to help her up. “Come on.” Ragna stared at her hands numbly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. As she walked Ragna to the healers, Claire decided whatever bullshit Loki was on would have to wait. Something shady was happening, and she was going to find out what.

[angstics]

this post about lesbian divas rlly delighted me. it's fun to see this niche topic talked about and expanded on with lots of examples. soooo i compiled all the responses as of 21/09/23 10:30pm EST and put them in a spreadsheet. then ranked them by how much of a diva i consider them lol

first off, the general list. i found 152 unique responses in the replies, tags, and comments. some were only first names so i didnt bother researching into who the poster was talking about. images for ease of viewing:

second... what is a diva?? clarifying where im coming from is important to understand my upcoming opinions. i should make clear that im talking about DIVAS as in DIVA WORSHIP as in LIZA MINNELLI-BARBRA STREISAND-BETTE DAVIS-LADY GAGA etcetera. dykes can see these female celebs as divas as well, but what the original post touches on is the male diva.

this rthko ask explains the diva well. you should also take a look at scholarly articles and books -- divas have been a part of recorded gay culture and esp gay male culture and drag queen culture forever -- the term isnt concrete. rthko says that "there's no real formula" but lists these typical features of a diva:

larger than life -- glam, humor, charisma? would a drag queen impersonate them?

theatrical / proximity to theatre

sexy / horny -- rthko notes here that these arent requirements, citing liza's lack of sexual overtness

strength

niche -- can be popular but not a general crowd-pleaser

gay rights supporter -- before it was cool

now rthko is talking about female divas, even noting the blind spot for bi/lesbian fans and artists. i say you can apply the same features to male celebrities to identify the male divas dykes idolize. i should note that some of the ppl on the list are women or genderqueer. so the list is not entirely male.

another note: im putting so much emphasis on DIVAHOOD because it's SUCH a specific term. not all icons, "weird little guys", "blorbos" are divas. one thing rthko doesn't touch on is how a diva often has a strong sense of self that the devotee can identify and want to emulate -- at the xtreme, leads to drag art. if they dont inspire and amaze, then are they a diva?

lets get into part 3: which of these 152 people / concepts / groups are honest to god divas? you can argue they're all Icons to some extent (the bare minimum being having a lesbian fanbase) but do they have what rthko and i (and gay culture researchers) consider to be the features of a diva?

first thing i did identify those i both recognized and "saw divahood within". ended up with 44:

then i shrunk down the list even further to 18 (again, pure opinion):

then i ranked the 44 more methodically by mapping out the 7 features of the diva:

several important notes:

this ranking is not definite -- though i tried to be fair, considering the limits to what i know, it is subjective

i dont know the histories of some of these people, so i may be missing some things. an inverse example: i know far too much about gerard way, so i had a good idea of how he fit into each feature

some of these i couldnt decide whether i should check or not. al pacino i was esp worried about... couldnt justify checking those boxes the way i can for other people

either way, my findings yielded interesting results! 3 of the most commonly talked about singer-songwriters (bruce, bob, johnny) ranked low. this may indicate that there's other features to the male diva that arent specified or dont apply to females divas / gay male devotees. perhaps defined gender expression, or “voice for lesbians”, or something else.

all of the people with a score of 4 or more can be emulated. "sex" (meaning overt sexuality) is the least common feature, after "theatrical".

though anyone can be a diva to anyone, there's a certain "canon" of who is a diva in gay circles. liza barbra bette gaga. this messy qualitative approach is an attempt to figure that out for dyke divas. i would love to talk about it more.