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pitchsidestories · 5 months ago

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too shy (can't speak) II Caroline Graham Hansen x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1410

inspired by this request here, we hope you enjoy it !

“Finally, home.”, you sighed happily once you stepped into your apartment.

It was already late, but seeing the cozy, familiar interior of your home made you always feel at ease as it was such a contrast from the unpersonal, anonymous hotel rooms you were staying at when you were away with the team.

“I hate away games.”, Caroline grumbled who was standing right behind you.

“The team and you played so great though despite the rain and you’ve rewarded yourself with the ticket to the Champions League Final in Bilbao.”, you couldn’t stop gushing, speaking of the game against Chelsea made you fall in love with your childhood club all over again. Forgotten was the loss in the first leg at home.

“Can’t believe you would come with us for some stupid videos.”, the Norwegian shook amused her head.

“That’s my job, Caro.”, you replied.

“I know but everything was wet. Including your camera.”, she reminded you with a half-crooked smile.

“Yes, but I still managed to take a few photos and film some clips of you girls celebrating the win.”, you smiled proudly at the memory.

“At least something I guess.”, the football player shrugged.

“I should start sorting the content I made from the trip.”, you told her, you were about to start your laptop, but your girlfriend softly closed it again.

“That can wait until tomorrow.”, she declared earnestly.

“Alright.”, you gave in after a look at the clock in the living room.

“It’s late.”, Caroline stated.

“You’re right let’s go to bed.”, you decided.

“Yes, please.”, the forward nodded.

“Oh, I didn’t know it was here.”, you commented surprised when she handed you one of her old shirts hiding somewhere in your closet.

“You’re welcome.”, the Norwegian blushed, knowing full well that you loved wearing hers and she loved to watch you wearing them.

“I love it, it’s so soft.”, you hummed.

“Soft?”, Caroline raised an eyebrow at you.

“And it smells like you.”, you added, it was comforting to you especially when your girlfriend was away with her national team, it made you feel less alone.

“Oh, please.”, the forward rolled her eyes.

“What?”, you laughed lightly.

“I also smell like me.”, she noted grinning.

“That’s true, come on time to get some sleep.”, you responded warmly.

“About time.”, Caroline remarked delighted as she was laying next to you, the sheets felt nicely cool against her skin. Still smiling your girlfriend wrapped her arms around you.

“Bona nit.”, you mumbled, almost half-asleep.

“Good night.”, she gave you a soft kiss on your forehead before sleep called for her too.

Mapi came over for a visit as she so often did on your free days.

As usual, she sat in your kitchen and let her gaze wander around while you placed two cinnamon rolls on plates.

“Wait, what’s that? That wasn’t here before.“, Mapi said surprised.

You turned to her, setting a plate down in front of her: “What do you mean, Mapi?“

“This.“ She stood up, ignoring her cinnamon roll completely. She held up an ugly souvenir mug of Oslo.

“That’s not from me.“, you assured her with a laugh.

“Whose is it then?“, Mapi demanded to know with a raised eyebrow.

You shrugged: “I guess it belongs to Caro.“

“To Caro, huh?“, the defender smirked.

You could feel the blood rush into your cheeks as you admitted: “Yes, we… have been dating for a while.“

“Oh, we know.“

“You know?!“, you echoed incredulously.

“Everyone knows!“

You heaved a frustrated sigh: “I thought we were so discreet. Unlike Lucy and Ona.“

“You’re all very bad at hiding your relationships.“, Mapi laughed.

It took you a moment to process this information. You turned back to the kitchen counter and focused back on preparing iced coffee for yourself and an iced matcha latte for her.

“When was it obvious? Tell me.“

Mapi bit back another grin: “She’s less like a black cat when she’s around you.“

“She is, huh? Caro still hates me for taking photos of her at work though.“

“Yeah, you will never get her to like photos.“

“No, that’s true. But she has an album on her phone with photos of me taking pictures or filming.“, you admitted, biting your lip.

“You two are so cute!“, Mapi smiled as she took her matcha latte from you.

“I think you and Ingrid are even cuter.“

She took a sip and with a dismissive hand gesture said: “Oh please. Ingrid never left her stuff at my place.“

You paused in the middle of stirring your iced coffee and studied Mapis face: “Wait, you think she does this intentionally?“

“Let me see.“ Once again, the defender stood up and walked through your apartment, looking for any hint of Caroline.

You followed her around: “I mean she stored her sleeping shirt in my closet and I love to wear it…“

Apart from her shirt, the two of you also found a sweater, a pair of thick wool socks and several scrunchies that definitely weren’t yours. Apart from that, there was also a book in Norwegian on your nightstand. Definitely Caros as you didn’t even speak Norwegian.

“Is her toothbrush in your bathroom?“, Mapi asked as she opened the bathroom door.

You both started at the two separate sets of toothbrushes and toothpastes on the sink.

“They’re not both mine… so yes.“, you said.

Mapi crossed her arms and gave a single nod, signalling that she came to a conclusion: “I think it’s safe to say that she wants to move in.“

“Caro hasn’t asked me that though.”, you pointed out.

“And she won’t. Caro just will move her stuff here piece by piece.”, the defender realized smirking.

Deep down you knew that she was right, Caroline was the shier person in your relationship, maybe this was her way to show you that the Norwegian was ready for the next step.

“I’ll ask her, so we can all her stuff over here at once. You’d help us with moving, right? She doesn’t have many belongings at her place anyway.”, you decided.

“Of course, Ingrid and I’ll help.”, Mapi assured you.

“Thank you.”, you gave her a grateful look before you two returned to the kitchen table to the iced drinks to yap about everything else happening in and around the team.

In the evening you met Caroline for dinner at your favourite restaurant which was far off from the busy La Rambla. The candles on the table were lit and turned everything into a warm glow while you softly took the forwards hand into yours.

“Caro? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”, she nodded slightly nervously.

“Would you like to move in with me?”, you continued smiling.

“I uhmm. I guess it would make sense for us to move in together.”, your girlfriend stammered.

“I agree plus Ingrid and Mapi offered to help us.”, you added.

“They did? That’s great.”, Caroline responded calmly.

“And I’d love my home to be yours too.”, you continued, your voice turning a bit emotionally.

“Your place feels more like home than mine anyway.”, the footballer confessed, pressing a gentle kiss to your hand. Her confession was music to your ears.

“We should do it then.”, you beamed at her.

“But you’re not allowed to steal my shirts to sleep in them.”, your girlfriend warned you grinning.

“But.. okay.”, you sighed dramatically.

“I was joking.”, she quickly replied.

“Good, I promise I won’t steal all of them just the ones who are already there.”, you vowed with a sheepish smile on your lips.

“I know you’ll steal them.”, Caroline answered unconvinced by your promise.

“No, I swear I-.”, you began laughing.

“It’s okay, I’m willing to pay that price.”, the Norwegian waved it off, joining in your laughter. It was one of her favourite sounds in the world.

“Okay, when we’ve a deal.”, you said enthusiastically before kissing your girlfriend softly on her lips.

“Kjæreste? I’m home.”, Caroline announced happily a few weeks later, returning from her trip with the national team.

“Finally!”, you exclaimed delighted as you jumped into her open arms.

“This is exactly how I imagined it.”, she chuckled lightly while noticing you wore one of her old shirts.

“Didn’t you miss me?”, you pouted.

“You and your stupid camera? Yes, I did.”, Caroline admitted seriously.

“We missed you too.”, you whispered into her ear.

The forward closed her eyes for a moment, she was glad to be home with you.

#caroline graham hansen #caroline graham hansen imagine #caroline graham hansen x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso community #woso one shot #woso oneshot #barca femeni #norway wnt #mapi leon

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woso-story · 18 days ago

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Mila's Norwegian Christmas

Ingird Engen x Mapi Leon x BabyMila

It was the kind of December morning that promised magic—crisp, clear skies and a chilly breeze that danced through the streets of Barcelona. In their cozy apartment, the morning sun stretched its golden fingers through the windows, spilling light onto the living room floor. Inside, there was a beautiful chaos: Mapi was sprawled on the floor with Mila, their three-year-old daughter, alongside her. And, of course, Bagheera, their fluffy, sassy cat, was curled up in the middle of it all, soaking in the sun too.

Ingrid had just come home from running errands, her arms full of shopping bags. As she entered the living room, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight before her. There was Mapi, still in her warm oversized sweater, lying down on the floor next to Mila, who was in her own little world, chattering happily. Bagheera was stretched out between them, her fur catching the rays of the sun like a golden halo.

It wasn’t a typical morning, but Ingrid adored moments like this—simple, cozy, and full of love. But even though it looked peaceful, she knew there was an underlying challenge ahead. This was going to be their first Christmas in Norway and Mila had never experienced winter there.

Mila had met Ingrid’s parents before, on the few occasions when they had visited Norway in the past. However, those trips had been in the warmer months, and Mila had never known Norway during the winter chill, the snow, or the frost-covered trees that Ingrid had grown up with. Ingrid had always talked about her family’s Christmas traditions in Norway—how magical it was to wake up to snow-covered streets, how fun it was to go sledging, ice-skating, and to sit by the fire with family. It all sounded wonderful, and Ingrid was determined to share it with Mila. But there was one small problem: Mila was very much a Barcelona girl. She loved the warmth, the sunshine, and the comfort of her familiar surroundings. The thought of a snowy Christmas in a freezing Norway didn’t excite her in the slightest.

“Maria,” Ingrid said with a mischievous smile, leaning against the doorframe of the living room. “Do you realize that Mila and Bagheera are both the same—perfectly content to just lay in the sun all day?”

Mapi laughed, her bright blonde hair falling softly over her shoulders. “I guess I did pass on my love of sunbathing,” she replied. “But I can’t blame them. It’s the best part of the day.”

Mila, noticing that her mom was talking to Mapi, bounced up on her little feet, her curly hair bouncing with her. “Mama!” she said in a sing-song voice, running over to Ingrid, “Look! Bagheera is sleeping with us!”

Ingrid smiled at the way her daughter’s face lit up at the simplest things. Mila was still young, but her spirit was already so vibrant. She was curious, always on the move, and had a fierce love for her family—especially for Bagheera, their black cat who had been with them since Mila was a baby.

Ingrid took a deep breath, watching Mila curl back up beside Mapi. The thought of the cold, snowy trip ahead weighed on Ingrid’s mind. They had talked to Mila about their plans for Christmas in Norway, explaining that they would fly to Ingrid’s parents’ house, where they could enjoy snow, sledging, and maybe even build a snowman. At first, Mila had been intrigued, her eyes wide with excitement at the idea of snow. But as soon as Ingrid mentioned the cold, Mila’s face fell.

“I don’t want to go to Norway,” Mila had said, pouting slightly. “I want to stay here with Bagheera. I don’t like the cold.”

Ingrid had tried to reassure her. “It’s going to be so much fun, sweetheart! You’ll get to play in the snow, and you’ll see your grandparents, and you’ll have lots of fun with them! And don’t worry—your grandparents will be so happy to see you.”

But Mila had shaken her head. “I want to stay here with Bagheera,” she repeated stubbornly.

“I know, baby,” Ingrid had said, smiling softly. “Bagheera will be fine. We’re just going on a little adventure, and soon you’ll see how fun snow can be!”

Despite Ingrid’s words, Mila wasn’t convinced. As the day of their flight approached, the little girl remained grumpy, unsure about the whole idea. It didn’t help that they couldn’t bring Bagheera with them. Ingrid and Mapi had explained that Bagheera would stay with her grandparents in Zaragoza, but Mila’s concern about her beloved cat was palpable.

And so, two days later, they found themselves on a flight to Norway. Mila had her arms crossed over her chest, a pout firmly in place. She looked like a tiny replica of Mapi—her fiery look, the pout, and even the way she folded her arms. Mapi noticed it too and couldn’t help but laugh. “She’s definitely my daughter,” Mapi said with a grin.

When they landed in Norway, the first thing Mila noticed was the cold. It was a sharp contrast to the warmth of Barcelona, and the snow-covered streets looked nothing like the sun-drenched beaches Mila was used to. Ingrid, wrapped in a thick coat and scarf, kept a watchful eye on her daughter as they walked to the taxi. Mila, bundled up in layers, had a look of complete disbelief on her face as she tugged at her scarf.

Mapi, standing beside her, pouted just as dramatically, mirroring Mila’s discomfort. Ingrid laughed, snapping a picture of the two of them in their matching winter gear. She sent the photo to the Barcelona team chat with a note: “Twins in the cold. Not amused.”

When they arrived at Ingrid’s parents’ house, there was a warmth that instantly made Mila feel better. Ingrid’s parents were ecstatic to see their daughter and granddaughter, and Mila quickly forgot her grumpiness when she was swept into the arms of her grandparents. She loved seeing how tall they were, and the best part of any visit was always when her grandad, Orjan, would lift her onto his shoulders. Mila loved that feeling of being the tallest person in the room, and she couldn’t stop giggling whenever her grandpa would spin around, pretending she was the queen of the world.

But despite her grandparents’ excitement, Mila was still a little homesick. The snow was beautiful, but it wasn’t Barcelona, and she missed her familiar routines. Ingrid could see her daughter struggling with the change, but she wasn’t worried. She knew that soon, Mila would find her rhythm.

Later, they went ice-skating at a nearby rink. To everyone’s surprise, Mila was a natural. After a few wobbly attempts and some help from Ingrid, she was skating around the rink like she had been doing it for years. Mapi, on the other hand, was struggling to stay upright, clinging to the edge of the rink and laughing every time she fell. Mila skated circles around her, calling, “Come on, Mami! I can do it. You can do it too!”

And then, something changed. The first time they went sledging down the hills, Mila’s mood shifted. The excitement of zooming down the snow-covered slopes with Mapi, who was laughing just as much as she was, was too much to resist. Mila’s giggles filled the air, and soon she was asking to go again, eager for the next run.

---

Everyone laughed as Mapi took yet another tumble. Ingrid, offering a hand to her wife, couldn’t resist teasing her. “Looks like we’ve got a little Norwegian ice princess on our hands,” she said with a grin.

Christmas Eve came, and the family gathered around the beautifully decorated tree in Ingrid’s parents’ home. The sight of all the presents underneath it made Mila’s eyes widen in wonder. She was amazed at how many gifts there were, and most of them had her name on them. Her grandparents even gave her a surprise gift—her very own pair of ice skates. Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a look of pride. It was clear their little girl had won over Norway, even if it took her a little while to adjust.

Mila beamed. “I’m going to be the best skater in Barcelona! Watch out!” she announced proudly, already planning how she would show off her new skills to her friends back home.

---

That evening, as they sat by the fire, enjoying the warmth and the comfort of family, Ingrid leaned back, watching Mila talk animatedly about her new ice-skating skills. “She’s definitely more Spanish than Norwegian,” Ingrid murmured with a smile.

“She’s a perfect mix of both of us,” Mapi said, her heart swelling with pride.

And as they boarded the plane back to Barcelona, Mila surprised them by asking, “When are we going back to Norway again? I want to build another snowman!”

Ingrid and Mapi exchanged a glance, smiling. Maybe their little Barcelona girl was more Norwegian than they thought.

#mapi leon #ingrid engen and mapi leon #ingrid engen #woso community #woso #barca femeni #woso fics

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toomanythoughts2 · 6 months ago

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Dethklok Agere HCs: Toki Edition

🐰🐝🎸🎮🤡🐱🍭✈️🛼🎹🖍️🍼🍺💉🎁🤠🏎️🔫👯‍♂️🪽🌈🤮

I originally was going to do all of the members together in one post, but I realized after Toki that it was going to be obnoxiously too long for all five. So, I'm splitting them up into each member. Obviously, I had to start with my main man, Toki 🧸!

Everything is below the Keep Reading tab.

Toki

(My son, my pookie bear, my darling, my sunshine, my sweetheart, my Swiss cheese, my BABY!)

🧸 First, I think his age range is pretty narrow but the ages he falls into are drastically different headspace wise. Meaning, I think he can fall between a 2 to a 4, but how he acts as a 2 year old is a lot different than a 4 year old, so it's important to figure out what his headspace is before doing something.

🧸 Toki is a hitter!!! He canonically hits people in the show for attention and even hits Pickles in AOTD in the church. Having Toki show signs of realistic trauma-based regression is just so important to me, it makes me crazy! The boy is not well but he is working on it.

🧸 Speaking of which, Toki requires the most support regressing than any of his bandmates. He needs constant support from either the band (Pickles) or Charles (Listen, he never left in my eyes. THOSE ARE HIS BOYS, HE COULDN'T JUST LEAVE THEM!) Whether this means just babysitting when he's regressed and chilling or actively helping him complete physical or emotional tasks. He needs a lot of support in his regression.

🧸 Out of all the members, Toki's regression is the most recognized as age regression by the general, uneducated public. It's very obvious age regression. I say this because I think some of the other members regression is not recognized as regression at first glance, especially by outsiders. (Of course, within the band, they all know each other well enough to spot the signs.)

🧸 He wants to put everything in his mouth. The remotes all have screws in them now where the batteries are located and Pickles is constantly holding Toki's hands to keep them from grabbing stuff.

🧸 He utilizes supplies in his regression the most out of everyone in Dethklok. I honestly believe that Toki can go anywhere between baby bottles to an open cup (supervised), so his supplies are diverse and plentiful. I personally see him utilizing stuffies, specific clothes for regression, (canon) ear muffs, pacifiers, child friendly cutlery, child friendly arts and crafts, sensory supplies, and so many other odds and ends.

🧸 From what we see in AOTD with Pickles carrying a large duffle bag (alluding that it's for Toki), I do think that Toki uses diapers. HEAR ME OUT! I don't think it's all of the time, but I do think that if Toki regresses far enough, it would become a necessary part for him. (Homie is traumatized.) Pickles just knows what's up and is ready to care and defend his Norwegian baby brother.

🧸 He needs attention ALL OF THE TIME! Even if he doesn't necessarily want someone to be in his space, he still needs to know that they are available for him 100% of the time. (Playing by himself but won't let you leave the room without crying.)

🧸 Oh, he is the biggest crier in Dethklok (Skwisgaar is the second). He will cry if he hurts himself, he'll cry if he just finished his last piece of dinner he liked, he'll cry if he doesn't want someone to stop cuddling him. But he also cries over a lot of things he doesn't understand, like being triggered by sounds or phrases. The sound of a whip and an actual whip are not allowed on Mordhaus because of how scared Toki gets when he sees/hears one. (Aslaug, when I catch you, Aslaug.)

🧸 He will utilize his big blue eyes for treats. Do not be fooled, he's already gone to everyone in the band for the same treat and got one from them already. (Charles won't budge but he's gotten close.)

🧸 Loves to cuddle. Loves to be held. I mean, is this really a HC anymore, of course Toki loves to cuddle and be held. He's cuddling while playing, he's cuddling watching TV, he's cuddling while sleeping, he's cuddling while eating. He'll cuddle on the toilet if you let him. Nathan is the person Toki goes to the most for these cuddles because he's large, soft, and has a low bass rumble in his chest when he speaks that puts Toki to sleep instantly.

🧸 He can only play independently but wants to play with others. He just doesn't know how to do that yet. Pickles and Murderface have tried to join in on play time but it stresses Toki out too much. I HC this because Toki had no control over his environment as a child, so playing is a way for him to have that control. By having someone join in, it's inviting the inevitable that they might take over his environment. That alone makes him stressed because play time was the only time as a child that Toki had any control in, so it's going to be hard letting people in when he's regressed.

🧸 He is the bubble bath connoisseur. When he's big, he is spending time looking for new bubble baths, bath bombs, toys, all kinds of shit. He loves bath time, it's his favorite part of the day when he is small. It depends if Toki needs supervision/the level of supervision for bath time when he's small. He can go from needing help every step of the way to only needing help filling the tub and getting in and out. I do think he would love to have his hair played with and washed. To me, this is a Skwisgaar or Charles job. Pickles has tried but he's almost bald with dreads and has no idea how to wash hair anymore.

🧸 The lore he has with his stuffies is long, complex, and gory. He will NOT explain it though, it's too much of a hassle.

🧸 Speaking of, Toki does have very disturbing tendencies while regressed due to his trauma. I like to think he draws and colors a lot of his abuse and shows them to the band. I also think, while regressed, he falls into old fears about being punished, so if he does something that was "breaking the rules" when he was actually a child, he will completely spiral and hurt himself somehow. He also won't say anything if he is hurt because his injuries used to never be a big deal or were "deserved". Same thing with eating and drinking, he won't do them if he feels like he did something bad. I also think he "punishes" himself by stripping himself of his shirt and pants and laying somewhere cold (under a fan or on bathroom tiles), to mimic the feeling of the "Punishment Hole". The band is closely working with Dr. Twinkletits to keep tabs on all of this.

🧸 On a happier note, he loves to follow Skwisgaar around when he's regressed, and Skwisgaar doesn't mind too much. (He loves being Toki's favorite and gloats about it all the time to the other members.)

🧸 Stares. He loves to just look at people. It scares the band sometimes until they realize they can stare back and make Toki laugh.

🧸 He's a thumb sucker. I know it in my heart that he's sucking away on his grimy little thumb and Pickles is always yelling at him to get it out of his mouth. This only works half of the time because Toki just loves his thumb too much.

🧸 When he's too little to talk, he makes a lot of huffs and puffs to get his point across. Gets progressively less coherent the sleepier he gets.

🧸 He gets nightmares. Just like when Toki isn't small, he is plagued by nightmares. But, I do believe that if he goes to bed regressed, the daily activities ease him enough that he doesn't get them nearly as much or as bad as when he's not regressed.

🧸 He uses a nightlight. It's in the shape of a kitty head and casts a kitty shadow on the wall. His name is Elin.

🧸 Toki loves arts and crafts and usually has to have someone supervise him when he's in creating mode. (He will eat the uncooked macaroni and then get upset when there's none left to make his pictures.) He is no longer allowed unsupervised access to glue as he keeps trying to eat it. Scissors, he has no problem with.

🧸 Toki is known for some pretty explosive tantrums, which Pickles and Nathan have tried very hard to work Toki through so he doesn't end up hurting himself or others. He is known to hit, kick, bite, spit, and swear when he's upset. But a lot of it is superficial. Toki isn't aiming to hurt anyone or himself, he's just expressing his frustration in a physical manner that can harm people. He gets more upset after the tantrum when he realizes what he's done. The band can't be but too mad at him, he isn't in complete control. They've learned to help Toki work through his tantrums the best they can.

🧸 The band is not allowed to ignore Toki when he's regressed because that has been identified as a trigger for a tantrum. However, Toki has and can be put in 10-minute increment time outs to calm down from a fit or if the band needs to address someone else first. (Like, if Toki punched Skwisgaar in the nose, Toki knows he's not suppose to do that, so he gets put in time out while Skwisgaar gets his nose checked out.)

🧸 Murderface loves to teach Toki when he's regressed because he will sit and listen to him about everything. EVERYTHING! Even the most boring war battle facts, he will sit and listen. Pickles is a little worried about this because Toki is even more impressionable when he's regressed. He doesn't think Murderface would take advantage of Toki like this, but he isn't a fool. (Murderface would but only small things, like picking dinner plans.)

🧸 Murderface is also the only one that can play with Toki one-on-one the longest before it stresses Toki out. Murderface's improv during play time is funnier and more creative than the other members, but when it becomes too much improv, that's when it stresses him out and they have to stop. But before that, Toki is having the time of his life.

🧸 Toki refers to Pickles and Nathan as Mamma and Pappa. I believe that Toki had to refer to his parents in Norwegian as Mor/Far (Mother/Father) all of the time, but in English he just calls them Mom/Dad because it's easier to say. But Mamma and Pappa are informal terms and mean a lot more to Toki role-wise. They're like badges of honor. They earned those names by being the caregivers they are, before and after AOTD.

🧸 He wants all of the kisses! Forehead kisses, cheek kisses, head kisses, bed time kisses, good bye kisses, good morning kisses, hello kisses. He craves physical affection. And every time he gets a kiss, he stims happily. I also think he rubs that part of himself that got kissed because it "tingles" and he has to touch it.

🧸 After discussing whether Toki would use a crate or not, I think I like the idea of him having a permanent pillow fort in the corner of his room for when he wants some alone time the most. Or to decompress. Or if he's tired and wants to nap. Though, I am still down with the dog crate idea. Or the little kiddy tent! I love them all, honestly!

🧸 They have a playground installed on Mordhaus just for Toki. He loves the swing and will swing (or be pushed) for hours if you let him. He has gone through multiple swings in a short amount of time because of how much he swings. (This is projection. I have broken 4 swings due to swinging so much.)

🧸 Skwisgaar has inside jokes with Toki when he's small and only in Swedish. Toki giggles so hard when he gets a chance to whisper one of them to Skwisgaar that he almost cant get them out.

🧸 Toki has a bed time routine that he has to follow when he's small (with the help of his bandmates) because it helps him regulate his emotions and builds structure. The routine is simple: brush teeth, brush hair, wash face, go potty, get changed, pick out a bed time story, climb into bed. Nathan is the official bed time reader, but the band is usually with him when he's falling asleep. He needs his goodnight kisses otherwise he will be upset.

🧸 Toki loves having sleep overs in the other guys rooms. He loves Nathan's rooms the most because of the aquariums (low sensory, calming, general interest), then it's Murderface's because of the different devices in his room (low simulation and attention, general interest), then it's Skwisgaar's room because he has the window so he can see all the stars at night, then it's Pickles room. However, Pickles room is the coziest in Toki's opinion because Pickles is there, and he loves Pickles very much. He knows on one is going to get him in Pickles room.

🧸 Skwisgaar knows very little on how to cook, but the times he does cook, he utilizes Toki as a taste tester for his dishes. They have similar pallets, so Toki can accurately depict the dishes intended taste. Skwisgaar always sets him on the table and spoon feeds him whatever he is cooking (usually soup or stew) and asks for his opinion. Toki loves it and always asks for Skwisgaar to feed Deaddy Bear too.

🧸 Toki's age regression is public knowledge. He is unable to control when he regresses, so he has public appearances where he is regressed. This unfortunately meant that Toki had to address it to the press, despite Toki feeling uneasy about answering questions. They all know that the press love to ask intimate and personal questions, even if it makes him uncomfortable. The band and Charles were off to the side supporting him through out the whole press conference. After the initial interview, Charles would be the only one answering questions about Toki's regression, so that 1) Toki wouldn't have to do it and 2) Charles can't be bullied into giving out too much private information on the matter, he's a professional. This was greeted with mixed results at first but gradually turned positive as more information was readily understood by the public.

🧸 The Dethmoms have wavering opinions about Toki. Anja does not acknowledge it, or at least tries very hard not to acknowledge it. Toki does become scared around her when he's little and she knows that. Stella thinks most of it is made up and he's just looking for attention, but she does not outright ridicule Toki to his face. She'll play along for the sake of keeping him quiet. Servetta does not have an opinion either way, but she does like to dote on him from time to time (head pats, petnames) when she's able to get him to do something for her. Molly does not like it one bit and will not play along. She has gotten mad at Toki before and has "called him out" for it, but only to be met with 0 back up (Stella understands enough that Toki isn't her child, so it's not her place to call him out, only Anja's.) Rose is the only one in the group that absolutely adores Toki. She's read every book, every blog post, every piece of literature to try and make herself a safe space for Toki. Toki in return looks forward to seeing Rose and will ignore everyone in favor of her. Rose gives him all of the sugary sweet lovings that the boys can't quite give him, so they let him be coddled and coo-ed at from her. (Nathan isn't jealous of this at all.)

🧸 Toki has been known to hang out with Charles while he works. Sometimes he's as quiet as can be, completely oblivious to whatever Charles is doing. However, Toki has sat in Charles lap before just wanting to cuddle while Charles is on a phone call or web meetings. He has made multiple appearances during zoom meetings of just cuddling Charles or sleeping on his shoulder. The other members of the meeting have taken a regressed Toki in a meeting as a "Good Luck Charm" for whatever future endeavors they are about to talk/negotiate/revise about. They've even moved meetings forward/backwards with future partners when Charles has Toki in his lap because they have so much faith in his "Good Luck Charm" ability.

🧸 Charles has a board in his office just for drawings that the band has made while regressed. 95% of them are Toki's drawings though.

🧸 Abigail is still a big part of Toki's life, both regressed and not. I believe after the Metalocalypse, Abigail and Nathan did have a serious conversation about everything where Nathan apologizes for his behavior. Abigail accepts and the group + Abigail form a friendship. But a lot of it is between Toki and Abigail, where Abigail is able to take care or calm Toki down much easier and much faster than any one of them. Toki will wake up from nightmares demanding to call her to make sure she's ok, which she always answers. She understands Toki very well, and most of their time spent together is in quiet tranquility. He mainly just wants to cuddle with her and rest, sometimes babbling about stuff but most of the time is quiet. He finds comfort in her and she will lend him something that smells like her to calm him down if need be.

🧸 It's common to leave baby's outside to nap in Scandinavian countries like Norway and Sweden. When Toki wants to nap, he will ask to go outside and sleep on a blanket, which the band allows. However, when he wants to do it during the winter where there is snow, the band argues back with him, except Skwisgaar. He has to tell them that this is completely normal for Scandinavian children. He buys Toki the appropriate wear clothes and sleeping bag, and lets Toki take a nap outside in the snow. Skwisgaar will either join him or be near by to calm the rest of the bands nerves, especially Pickles.

🧸 Very very very few klokateers are allowed to care for Toki in the place of the band or Charles. Out of all of the klokateers, these people have to go through an extensive and grueling interviewing processes to get the position. Toki knows exactly who these klokateers are and understand that if Charles allows them to care for him, then they can be trusted. These klokateers also have the most amount of pressure on them. While their position won't kill them like other positions, if they betray the trust of Charles by hurting Toki, they are signing themselves up for a world of pain unlike they have ever known. Death would be too kind for those who hurt Toki when he is small.

🧸 Toki is also a biter. He likes to bite and nibble on people for attention. It doesn't hurt unless he uses his canines.

🐰🐝🎸🎮🤡🐱🍭✈️🛼🎹🖍️🍼🍺💉🎁🤠🏎️🔫👯‍♂️🪽🌈🤮

Ok, that's all for now! I hope you enjoyed these as much as I enjoyed putting them down. Obviously, my word isn't law so if you HC Toki differently than any of these, it's all good. In fact, I wanna read about them, lol! So yeah, thanks xxx

#toki wartooth #metalocalypse #dethklok agere #age regression toki #toki agere #dethklok #william murderface #skwisgaar skwigelf #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #charles offdensen #metalocalypse headcanons #Age Regression Headcanons #Toki agere HCs

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blueberrypancakesworld · 11 months ago

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hi hi!!! can you pretty pretty please write a fic where dead takes the reader’s virginity after they had been dating for a while. and it’s really soft and sweet

My heart

warning : smut, p in v, not to graphic, fluff/comfort, kissing, some aftercare

Info : So it took a while and after some days of no motivation I finally bring this to an end. I hope you like it dear anon have fun reading everyone else too ;)

masterlist

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Love is not always easy, but when was it, especially in the case of the singer of the band who saw themselves as the messengers of Satan, the beginnings of Norwegian black metal.

But how did it happen that on this dark evening he found himself in a sea of clothes that were neither decorated with rivets nor patches. On the contrary, his blue eyes were fixed on the body beneath him.

His cold pale hands had gently wrapped around hers, her hands kissing each finger individually until she was ready to open them and slide onto the bed. ,,Are you sure, my heart?" the blonde asked, his hair spilling over his shoulder and tickling her still lightly clothed torso. Was she ready?

She had always wanted to be, or was that not why she had fallen in love in the first place? When she had seen the singer at a concert, it was love at first sight. Love that they both now wanted to consummate on a physical level. In a way that they both knew would be pleasant, careful and slow.

The blond, despite his morbid nature, knew that his heart needed her time. ,,Y-Yes I'm sure...I trust you Dead" he received her answer and couldn't hide his grin, which he didn't often do. But ever since they'd gotten together, they'd wanted to do it. engaging her in another gentle kiss, his hands slowly wrapped around the clasp of her bra.

A glance at her was further confirmation as she slowly lowered her hands before the penultimate piece of clothing fell between them. ,,Don't be afraid... I would always love you," he murmured, kissing her cheeks, which had heated up with shame and accompanying arousal.

The blonde dropped the garment on the bed before gently beginning to massage her breasts. Her breathing slowly increased, her skin warm and soft everywhere he touched.

She was filled with life, something he loved so much in his own dead being. ,,And I love you...forever," she replied, an almost cautious sigh escaping her as he kissed her lips again before turning his attention to hers. Kisses and gentle love bites left a kiss for every little bite, sucking on her jugular vein.

He watched her reaction and gave her time if it got too much for a moment. ,,Feels...good," she whispered, watching Dead's eyes light up with pride and devotion as he continued to kiss his way down her body, his hands tracing little circles and her own hands, daring her to put her own hands on him.

To hold and feel him. The slight upsurge of her body as he placed his lips on her tender breasts, the first time she had been touched like this, pleasured like this. The light scratching over his skin as her arousal made Dead sigh.

She watched as the blonde slowly moved down her body. ,,I'm making you feel good...promise" she heard him say, trying to concentrate on him, the warmth, the soft mattress and his touch. The blond did not let himself be deprived of spoiling her further as he kissed the soft skin of his favorite.

,,You don't know how long I've loved you... wanted to do this," he confessed and she thought she saw a pinkish tinge on his cheeks. His blue eyes settled on her body as he watched her as if she were a work of art, his work of art. Something he cherished, loved and would love forever.

Dead knew that until the end of his already dead life he would love her, there was no other way. Kissing his way up her thighs, leaving light marks, he felt her tense a little again. ,,Hey hey my heart...I'll be careful okay?" he asked this over and over in the same soft patient tone as his hands finally settled on her and his last piece of clothing between them.

She gave him her consent and their underwear slid to the floor. ,,My pretty Eve," he quipped, seeing the little smirk on her lips as she followed it with a ,,My pretty dead Adam" she pulled him into another kiss before he positioned himself properly. His hands slid to hers for a moment between them before he entered her. His gasp at her moaning out hit them both as they took a moment to get used to the feeling.

She continued to hold herself against the mattress and Dead before she gave him a small nod and he began to move. Slowly and rather carefully but it was just right for them both. They knew that in all the time they had been together that they wanted to take their time and now they were finally together.

They finally had what they wanted and needed. Each other. His gaze only became more full of love and lust as it met hers and the bond between them was strengthened.

His lips searched hers again, his fingers stroking hers as they both held each other. ,,So beautiful," he murmured, kissing her again, feeling his fingers scratching his pale skin as he found the right spot. Her sounds echoed louder and louder through the room as he placed his hand on her breast again.

The massage and the taking of her sensitive spots seemed to bring her to her climax. When she breathlessly tried to tell him just a few moments later, she held onto him and he spoke sweet words to her.

She tightened around him, hearing his own moans as her body reared up slightly and the moment seemed to last forever. Dead herself as she muffled after she came down from her high.

They both just hung on for a moment as they both tried to catch their breath. ,,That...was...unbelievable I love you," he murmured as he sat down next to her and pressed a kiss to her cheek, his fingers playing with a strand of hair as he watched his darling barely seem to believe it had happened. ,,I love you too," she replied, brushing a strand of hair from his face before snuggling up to him. Knowing full well that they would not repeat this just once and had all time they needed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star

#lords of chaos movie #lords of chaos #lords of chaos dead #jack kilmer #loc dead x reader #lords of chaos dead x reader

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vinylshifting · 3 months ago

Text

ᘛMy Introᘚ

꒷︶†︶꒷˚̣̣̣︶ ͡𑁬♱໒ ͡ ︶˚̣̣̣꒷︶†︶꒷ ˚̣̣̣

Hei!! i go by Vinyl or Väinö (Mostly Vinyl on this blog)

Ive been in the shifting community for well over 2 years i first joined in around 2022-2023

Mystery age shhh (somewhere between 15 to 17)

I was on shifter tiktok for the start, but i actually spent most of my journey on shifter youtube. Ive been on and off on tumblr for a while, but im here now!

Im Finnish, but will only speak(mostly speak) english on this blog

I dont care what pronouns im called, But She/Her are fine (Even though im a guy in person lol.. im basically a girl in all of my drs tho-)

My lucky angel number: 77

Im in many fandoms and have many interests:

Music (All sorts of music, mostly metal, glam rock, or specifically just my queen, lana del rey), Crypitds/Mythical stuff, True crime, HTTYD, MLP, Visual novels, Lords of Chaos

Hobbies/Stuff i like to do:

Writing, Making scripts, Making moodboards, Worldbuilding, Reading, Making Drs, Shifting (ofc)

Im a strong believer of you can script anything, theres infinate amount of universes so it already exists

I make moodboards and take moodboard requests! (The only time i probably wont do a request is if i dont know the character/media srryy)

I have no DNI! Just please dont be weird

Dont be afraid to DM me! im alsways open to be friends, i just stuck at conversations wahh. especially small talk

Some of my DRs

† Vampiric WR: My WR where im an immortal vampire living alone and i can travel to all my drs through this WR (probably will permashift here someday). I live in Transylvania

† Hogwarts DR: Current main dr, im a student at hogwarts but im also a half vampire and know dark magic and am having my own side adventure from the golden trios adventures

† Jail Fiancée DR: Dating my boyfriend whos in jail wahhh, i can fix him i swear (i am fixing him and we will live happily together… when hes out on parole). Takes place in Ukraine

† Rockstar‘s Gf DR: Dating Kelly Nickles, My man. God i love him so much mmmmhhhehehe. I come from a rich family and live in Nevada <3

† Моргевейн Dr: An alternative Cr where im a Russian metalhead living in America, Im in a Band. Just living my life. I also live neer the woods and some lakes so i love walking there!

† Mermaid DR: Just a mermaid Dr, based off both H2O and the Waterfire saga. Im so excited to live underwater ahhh i love marine animals. (Havent created a script yet, mostly subconscious based and Also i have a pinterest board for it lol)

† Deirdre Eilís DR: An Alternative Cr where im Norwegian/Irish andliving in america and dating my rapper boyfriend. Im also pretty as hell in this Dr like omfg.

† Red Hot DR: A dr where im just living life in the 90s-2000s and also im Dating Joey jordison teehee. I might turn this into where i have my own band (will probably be based off Kittie, Hole, or/and Genitorturers..). This dr is also mostly Subconscious based + With a pinterest board

Drs im working on/want: A hogwarts Dr 100%(even though i havent even started the script wahh), Model/Actress Dr (i have moodboards and a small pinterest board for it already..), The LOC Dr i started today but haven’t finished yet

(I forgot who made these cute borders, if anyone knows who made them please comment so i can give creds! <3)

#intro post #reality shifting #shiftblr #shifters #shifting community #desired reality #shifting antis dni #shifting blog

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ghouldtime · 3 months ago

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Hello again! Since you said that you HC König to be Styrian, do you think he'd be the kind of person to sometimes speak his dialect with reader to tease them a little? The dialect is kinda hard to understand for people, who only speak High German (the German you find in texts and the one you're taught at school and stuff). Because I speak with a dialect as well and I'd love nothing more than to banter with König in our Austrian dialect together! Of course, there's a thousand dialects in Austria! So, someone from Styria has a hard time understanding someone from Vorarlberg, but still! (Also, because I HC him from the southern part of Styria, I like to imagine he "barks" a little when he speaks! It's gotten better as he grew up, but when he gets drunk he still barks, which makes it harder to understand him! It's really hard to understand some people from southern Styria >.< Are we allowed to share our own HCs with you? I just thought it'd make sense since I am Austrian! Not trying to sound entitled or anything, of course! But I just love giving him HCs of things I'm familiar with :>)

Anyway, sorry for the long ask! Have a nice day! ^^

💚💚💚💚💚 HELLLLOO it's great to see you back again :D I hope you're doing well! Also prefacing this with I'm an American so I'm admittedly not the most well versed in everything Austrian! I do put in my research and know some but I haven't even been there so if I'm ever wrong, absolutely feel free to correct me (I try my best not to be totally ignorant)

To answer your question simply in one word: ABSOLUTELY. Caps, bold, and all.

Naturally, his default IS his dialect. That's what he grew up speaking, that's what he learned, that's what sounds the most correct to him. Yes, it's not the standard, but it's HIS standard.

If reader doesn't know his dialect or if he's going out of his way to be a bit of a little shit, he'll be teasing about it - he's got a sense of humor (as unconventional as it might be). Assuming reader is learning German, he of course will still be helpful with teaching! He'll speak the "textbook" standard, but he's still slipping his dialect in, especially if they're catching onto what he's saying and he wants to make a sly comment.

What did he just say? Oh, nothing, you'll figure it out :) .... eventually, in due time.... and maybe a few post it notes in your text books there...

If they already know German, he'll pretty much insist on his dialect and will maybe speak a bit slower if you're lucky. But he'll talk so much if he likes you, you'll catch on - sooner or later (all apart of his masterplan). He's far more comfortable speaking German so he naturally adopts a faster talking pace too to match

Side note Dialects are SO interesting. One of my pals is Norwegian and he'd look me dead in the eyes and switch to another dialect whenever I understood him. Frustrating, actually pretty hilarious, and gives me MORE incentive to learn and to try and figure it out. How a single language can vary so differently from place to place in the same country is very interesting to see and hear alike

(Also you're absolutely welcome to share head cannons with me anytime!! 💚💚💚 I love hearing them and I love seeing that people can relate and have their own experiences to add. It really adds depth when we know we're never getting more than the bare minimum and it's not entitled at all its so nice to hear these little details)

I'm absolutely on board with that head cannon and support it FULLY in every sense of the word. That's 110% HIM. Since he wasn't much of a talker as a kid too I think it certainly was much more pronounced for that reason before it lessened as he grew up, and especially had more exposure to his peers.

I adore niche head cannons like this, it's my bread and butter. Because you KNOW we'd not get that level of love and attention to detail with or from the game alone and it's just adding that extra pizzazz, that extra depth that he deserves

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 If you don't mind, I'll adopt that for him because it's so perfect??? It's so him I just love the idea so so so much

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princess-lvcifer · 4 months ago

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fourteen years

ihsahn/faust • 1K • hurt no comfort

Summary: Ihsahn breaks up with Faust before the drummer goes to prison

A/N: This is similar to my previous Emperor x F!Reader and Emperor x Emperor works because I love exploring the angst of a loved one going far away for months and years. I wrote the first paragraphs and I thought "Wait this could be also yaoi... What should I write...? Fuck it I'll write every version I have in mind."

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

"Fourteen years," Bård announced looking at Vegard as he met the rest of the band for the first time after being sentenced, in the house where they all lived together.

The vocalist was expressionless, cold and serious. That sentence didn't surprise him, it was to be expected after the confession and he had long been aware that he would be rotting in prison for a good couple of years.

He was always aware of the things his band members and other friends did, he didn't agree and didn't want to participate, but he kept quiet and just like them he thought they would never get caught, being infected by that mentality of being unstoppable and having luck always on their side — but Varg ruined everyone's party. Øystein's murder at the hands of Varg the year before capped the fun in the Norwegian black metal scene.

The months between then and now had been very hard, with all the members of his band and other friends being interrogated and judged, including himself. The police had rightly started a witch-hunt and unfortunately his boyfriend had blood on his hands. Both Bård and he knew that the only fair thing to do was to confess to the major crime he had committed, even though the police had no evidence to point to him as the murderer. And instead of living like there was no tomorrow, making the most of the time they would soon be without, the relationship grew tense and cold. They both had doubts about whether they were still together, and Bård was terrified at the mere thought of asking and having an awkward conversation, probably a break-up.

Vegard had a year to psyche himself up, and yet he was still hurt and furious that absolutely all the members of his band were going to prison, some longer and some less. He was furious with all of them for what they had done, especially Bård.

A knock on his bedroom door caught his attention, snapping him out of his thoughts. It could be any one of them, but he had a feeling it was his boyfriend, or rather, the one who was. They still had an important conversation to have, just as there were still a few days before the future prisoners were due to enter prison, and before that they would go to his parents' house to spend their last days of freedom with their families. The next day they would pack their bags and leave, and he wouldn't see them again until God knows when.

"Come in," he said and the door opened. No light came in when he opened it, the light in the hallway was out as was the light in his room. He could barely see who it was, but his silhouette was enough to tell him apart.

"Hello," the assassin whispered as he closed the door behind him.

"Hello," he replied in the same tone as he reached over to his bedside table and turned on the small lamp there.

"We need to talk..." he said as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"Do we?" He asked incredulously with a raised eyebrow, and at that moment Bård knew that the conversation would be much harder and more difficult than he had already imagined. "I don't have to say anything."

"Look, I know I've fucked up pretty good, but I love you—"

"And?" He asked as before as he raised his arms to rest his hands behind his head. "No matter how much you say that, it's not going to fix anything."

"Fuck, do you have to be so cold?" he asked annoyed and on the verge of despair.

"If you're cold, go burn another church. Or if it bothers you so much kill me."

"Fuck Vegard," he said hurt at having his crimes rubbed in his face, clearly with the intention of hurting him and at the little effort he was making to make the conversation easier.

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm clearly not going to wait for you for fourteen years, in many ways," he said matter-of-factly.

Hearing that was like a bucket of cold water falling on him, leaving him completely paralysed and hurt, in shock with his eyes like vinyls as they began to get wetter and wetter. It was not only what he had said, but how he had said it — as if he meant nothing to him, as if he didn't care about his feelings. Bård even had to look away from him for a few seconds, he couldn't even bear to look at his expressionless face at that moment. He opened his mouth trying to say something, but even he didn't know what to say, having to spend a few seconds staring at the floor pondering what he would say next.

"Did you have to say it, just like that?" he said as he raised his head to look at him again.

"Not to have done what you did," he shrugged.

"Yeah, but then what did you want me to do? Not confess?"

"I wish you hadn't become a criminal, and above all a murderer," he said now more annoyed, angry and hateful. "But what's done is done, it's too late now."

"I love you Vegard, please," he confessed and begged as he burst into tears, tears falling from his now red eyes and his voice breaking.

""Please"!? Please what?" asked the aforementioned man angrily again.

"I don't know, I just want some affection from you," he replied.

"This conversation is becoming a pointless loop," he said lowering his arms and rubbing his fingers across his forehead. "It'll pass, especially when you get away from me. In fourteen years neither of us will have feelings for each other, I promise."

"I will."

"No, you won't."

"That's it? After all we've been through?"

"Again," he said annoyed and above all tired in many ways: "If it bothers you so much that we've been separated for so long, you should have thought about it before killing that man. Now go to sleep, go on," he said pointing his thumb at the door next to him.

Maybe breaking a murderer's heart isn't the best idea, but Vegard needed to express himself and make things clear to Bård so that he wouldn't get his hopes up about a possible future together and would be more aware of what he had done.

𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐 𖤐

A/N: English isn't my first language, sorry if something was weird expressed. ��🇸

Crossposted on my AO3.

#emperor band #faust emperor #bård eithun #ihsahn #vegard tveitan #metal #black metal #true norwegian black metal #trve norwegian black metal #trve kvlt #metalhead #norway #1990s #classic rock #yaoi #ao3 fanfic #fanfic

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maxsimagination · 1 year ago

Text

𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗴𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗜 - 𝗺.𝗹𝗲𝗼𝗻

summary: yn has just moved to barcelona, and picked up an admirer while she’s there.

• part 1 • part 2

-> i apologise if any of the translations are wrong

𖦹 masterlist

"𝗚𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗦." (thank you.)

i thanked the cab driver, tipped him and walked towards the apartment building. i had just moved from london to barcelona, starting a new season at barça instead of chelsea.

it was a difficult decision for me to make, especially leaving my friends behind, but i knew chelsea didn't hold the potential for me to grow as a soccer player. barcelona was known as one of the best clubs in the world, and i had always dreamed of playing there as a little girl.

all my belongings had been transferred into the apartment i had bought. at the moment it was a mess of boxes everywhere. thankfully, there was a bed, couch, table and surprisingly a tv, included with the apartment.

i still had a week until the first training session with my new club and ingrid, who i knew previously from the norwegian national team, had offered to come over and help me unpack. i was sitting on my new bed when there was a knock at the door, i hopped off the bed to unlock it for who i assumed was ingrid.

"hola!" (hello.) the norwegian woman brightly greeted me and gave me a giant hug. i was so glad to have a friend in barça and immediately hugged her back. "hola! thankyou for coming over. i need all the help i can get with this mess." (hello.)

we laughed together and got to work unpacking. it was a couple of hours, but we managed to clear almost all the boxes, the only ones left were furniture boxes that i had pre ordered and had delivered.

——

over the last week, i had slowly gotten used to the bustling streets of spain, ingrid showed me around the general area. i hadn't seen any big landmarks or buildings, but i was settling in nicely. it was training day and i had nerves running through my body.

ingrid had shown me all the players already, practically quizzed me on their names, so i was well prepared for meeting everyone. speaking of, a ping on my phone and honk from outside let me know that ingrid was here to pick me up.

i grabbed my duffel bag and phone and headed downstairs. "heii! thankyou for picking me up." (hello!) the norwegian rolled off my tongue naturally, i had momentarily forgotten where i was. "heii jente!" (hey, girl!) she laughed at the language switch, before her eyes lit up. "you should speak norwegian to the others, it would confuse the hell out of them!"

she looked at me with a grin. "prank them?" "sí!" (yes!) we laughed about the idea the whole trip, eventually deciding that it could do no harm and the other players would be curious about it.

we made it to the training ground and ingrid was bouncing with excitement. she grabbed my hand and lead me into the facility. we had to stop by jonatan's office to let him know i was here and introduce myself. "hola yn. nice to meet you." (hello, yn.) we shook hands and talked for a bit before ingrid took me out to the field.

jonatan said he would be down there soon so we went to put my stuff down. "girls!" jonatan called out and all the players came running over. "this is yn. she is our newest player, transferred from chelsea. make her feel welcome."

everyone looked to me and i awkwardly waved at the crowd before me. ingrid took over and told them all that i was norwegian, all the important things. i scanned over all the girls in front of me, one of which caught my eye.

she was shorter than me, tattoos painted all over her body, and bleach blonde hair that had grown out to show the dark brown roots. from what ingrid had shown me, this was mapi leon.

her eyes were trained on me, unabashedly looking my figure up and down. i grinned when i caught her eye, her cheeks tinted pink. our mini meet and greet was cut short when jonatan decided we should start training.

"on the field everyone! we've got laps to run!"

we collectively groaned but moved out to the pitch anyways. i stuck with ingrid throughout the course of training, occasionally noticing mapi joining us more often.

the whole team was sweating when we finished, i made a beeline for my water bottle i left on the sidelines. ingrid and mapi followed and all three of us went to the change rooms so we could shower. "does anyone want to get coffee with me? i need caffeine."

there were a couple of other girls near us that heard me but all were busy. ingrid and mapi agreed and we all head out. it was ingrid who drove us to their favourite cafe that wasn't too far from the club.

when we sat down, mapi suggested we ask each other questions to get to know each other. mainly me and mapi, i knew a lot about ingrid already and the same for mapi with ingrid. it was a fun idea though so i agreed and mapi went first.

"how long have you been in spain?"

her accent was thick when she spoke english.

"one week."

then it was my turn.

"how old are you?"

"28. are you dating anyone?"

mapi was quick to fire another question my way and i laughed a little at that, and ingrid's shocked expression.

"no, i am not in a relationship."

mapi looked mildly relieved at my answer. my turn again.

"favourite food?"

"sushi."

her response was immediate and my face lit up.

"i love sushi too."

we went back forth for a while, even after we had our coffee, until mapi had asked me what my favourite place in spain was. "i haven't seen much, only the barcelona club." a nervous laugh accompanied my words, i don't know why but i felt nervous admitting it. "i could take you out to see?" a small smile slipped onto my face and i nodded.

"i'd like that." i glanced at ingrid who was grinning at the scene before her. we finished up at the cafe soon after then and ingrid drove us back to the club so mapi could pick up her car. we said our goodbyes to the defender and ingrid drive me home.

on the drive back, she was quick to interrogate me. "so, mapi huh?" a wide smirk was directed towards me as i feigned shock. "i don't know what your talking about, ingrid." she laughed at my act, but was equally quick to warn me. "mapi gets what mapi wants, and it looks like you're her target."

"is that a bad thing?" ingrid whipped her head back to me with a questioning look on her face. i just shrugged with a knowing smile. "yn!" "hey, don't blame me that she's attractive."

we laughed about it the rest of the way to my apartment before stopping outside the building and ingrid letting me out. "i'll see you tomorrow, ja?" (yes?) ingrid nodded. "see you tomorrow." she drove off as i walked into the building.

i made it to my room, threw my bag on the floor and flopped on the bed. i thought over the entire day so far and bees were buzzing in my stomach. i had only just met the team and i was already going on a date with the mapi leon.

#woso #woso x reader #woso community #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine

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ben-learns-smth · 2 years ago

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re-introduction time, hi I'm Bente (they/he), Ben is also fine! formerly known as bennistudies

quick facts:

mid-20something wrapping up their master's teaching degree (english & german)

starting a new job as a substitute teacher in may (exciting but scary!) (that didn't happen, but other good things did!)

this is a somewhat-studyblr, definitely some langblr content and otherwise the usual meme, jokes, life update, bookish stuff

languages I'm currently learning: DGS (german sign language) & Norwegian

it's been a bit over five years since I joined the studyblr community with my old blog and I've learned so much from others since then but also I just really enjoy seeing everyone doing their thing and making it work, ya'll are so impressive!!

hyperspecific poll with fun facts to get to know each other is here

a more rambly hello under the cut:)

after I basically stopped posting on my old studyblr bennistudies last late summer, I realised that having to switch back and forth between accounts was the issue. I missed being active here! so to solve that, I've created this sideblog for easier access. hi, it's good to see you again :)

for those interested, I'll definitely leave little updates on how the job is going (as much as I'm allowed), especially when it comes to being a nonbinary trans teacher since a bunch of ppl found that interesting when I mentioned it on my old blog. posts related to that will be both under #mine and #bente does gender

originally, I expected to be done with my thesis already, which is why I have lots of language classes going on/starting rn. I have 4 lessons of german sign language level 2 left, level 3 starts this week as a parallel class though (posts will be under #bente learns sign language). last week I started norwegian a1 (#bente learns norwegian)!

other than that new focus on teaching and language learning, it'll be the usual chaos, rambles, and water drinking reminders though. I'm not even gonna pretend that I'm doing this for accountability, I just like sharing my cosy little corner of the world and seeing what you lot are up to

I still track #benniscup, please use it freely for any type of post! yes that includes rambles (if you want me to see and potentially reblog)

if you want to talk books, baking, plants or just about your day, please reach out!

tagging a bunch of my old mutuals and blogs I've followed for what feels like forever bc I appreciate you all and hope you know that: @septemberstudies @learnelle @studyingwithcatsandtea @veralernt @teacherstudiies @lattesandlearning @somerabbitholes @yourneighborhoodbibliophile @adelinestudiess @godzilla-studies @oneanxiousstudybuddy @gabiestudies @patchworkstudies (& the knife gang pals, obviously <3)

#I'm realising that I don't know how to introduce myself #oh well #mine #studyblr #studyblr intro post #knife gang

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skwigelfskwisgaar · 8 months ago

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Cold.

Skwisgaar always hated the cold. But it wasn't like he wasn't used to it - he had grown up swaddled in the biting cold winds, reminders that his mother had forgotten to buy food, to purchase new coats, socks, boots for her growing boy. He was an afterthought, to be left outside like the rest of her worries.

It was why he hated the cold.

He said it was because he was always stuck outside and exposed to it - which wasn't a total lie - but in reality it was because it was a reminder that he was unwanted by the one person he ever wanted to be noticed by when he was young. He wasn't meant for love, he wasn't deserving of it. He was unworthy of it.

He loathed everything about the cold and the snow.

It's why he was probably the only one opposed to the idea of the concert in Danzig - the cold affected sound quality, and it was cold.

Right now, he was trapped in the icy wilds of who knew where and stuck with Toki, without a guitar, and no cell reception. In the cold. But to the more pressing matter at hand, he had to tell Toki about something that was absolutely necessary before he forgot.

"I coulds hear your feedback in mine monitors!"

Skwisgaar hated the snow, but maybe because they were stranded together and he felt some kinship with a fellow Scandinavian that instead of complaining about the fact that they were needing rescue, the blonde felt maybe he should try to dig into Toki's subpar playing at their concert. Especially given that Toki had grown up playing in the harsh Norwegian landscapes and should know to tune his guitar for colder temps -

"How dares you - !" Toki cuts him off, offended that Skwisgaar had told him his playing sucked. Maybe if he practiced or actually paid attention to Skwisgaar when they practiced, maybe he wouldn't have feedback during the concert. Sometimes, it felt like Toki wanted Skwisgaar to be disappointed. It didn't make sense that such a talented guitarist would make such careless mistakes otherwise.

Regardless, he tried to hear Toki's rebuttal about how he was 'killings it', but he was too worried about the cold.

There was a pit growing in his stomach with each step they both took and it was taking every fiber in his body to stop himself from cutting Toki off on his rant - it felt like he was that young little boy again running home excited to show his mom that he got a passing grade in his home ec and music class only to see --

A tree exploded next to them. Halted to a stop, Skwisgaar's thoughts froze, and he stood still, much like Toki before he decided to comment.

"That was weirds."

A large brutish man emerged from the tree line, letting loose a battle cry. Already on edge from the botched concert and a failed escape attempt, Skwisgaar joined Toki in screaming out in fright.

"Time to die!" Both turn in a frenzy and run, long hair wildly whipping behind them. Neither make it far enough and get shoved down as their chaser pulls out a weapon.

In a panic, Skwisgaar thought of how much he hated that after all this time, he was going to die in the snow. Surrounded by the cold. The very thing reminding him the he was unworthy of love. He looked over to see Toki, who was much more confused than panicked, maybe because he had a fighting chance at kicking this guy's ass than Skwisgaar. He took a moment to let his mind calm down from the frantic thoughts speeding through it before he spoke.

He thought of the way the snow crunched under the boots of the man as he took his time to pick between him and his friend. He thought of how he often wanted to play music forever with Toki, and so, quickly formulated that into words before anything else happened.

He thought of all the times he felt the happiest.

The image of Toki and his audition, and how he impressed the band and blew Skwisgaar's mind.

The first recording of them in the studio together as a band.

The privilege of having a fellow Scandinavian who understood basic Swedish and knowing enough Norsk to talk to Toki when he could.

The times when Toki told him how safe he felt, or the times he opened up about why guitars had saved him much like how Skwisgaar felt they had saved him too.

So he said the only thing he could.

The only thing he felt was appropriate.

"I's ... will sees you in Valhallska, Toki."

Toki looked over, a hesitation lasting half a second.

"I always ... hateds you, Skwisgaar." There was a half second in his response but Skwisgaar's heart was singing at the very idea that anyone admitted to feeling anything for him. Toki admitting that he felt this passionate anger, this brutal fury for Skwisgaar made the blonde's heart soar. Toki had this black fury, brutal anger, raw talent that he had trusted Skwisgaar with to pour into their music. To hear Toki aim at him when it was probably more of Toki trusting Skwisgaar with it was neither here nor there, but nonetheless it cemented what Skwisgaar had thought of their musical dynamic for a long time now.

To hear him say it out loud was euphoric.

He knew there were days that Toki wanted to rip Skwisgaar apart, or who knew what else with that wild primal look he had in his eyes after practice sessions - but for him to admit this on what might be their metaphorical deathbeds?

It was the highest form of flattery Skwisgaar had ever been granted and he had no way of of knowing how to respond. So he smiled.

He cracked a small, albeit genuine, smile.

And he answered honestly.

"...I knows Toki, I knows."

- - - - -

It was cold in his room, no matter how often he fiddled with the thermostat. Ever since he had the scare with Toki and his new guitar teacher, Skwisgaar's room became colder. He was sure Toki was playing tricks on him at this point, or the others were messing around with him when he wasn't looking. They all knew he hated the cold. It was probably more mind tricks.

Right now he had a hard time even playing classic Dethklok songs because his hands were so cold. He muttered a few curses under his breath and started again from the top, gluing his eyes back on to the metronome and internalizing the beat.

Closing his eyes, Skwisgaar tried to playing the Duncan Hills jingle again from memory, trying to forget the recital and the events that led up to it. Toki's tutor had died last week, which should have meant Toki and the other guys would find a way to stop fucking around with Skwisgaar - they moved on to the next thing which was Murderface and a line of Planet Piss watches he was planning on launching. Yet Skwisgaar hadn't been able to find a way to regulate the room to a stable temperature he could tolerate.

He was in the middle of playing the stupid coffee jingle when he heard a knock on the door. Skwisgaar mumbled something about coming in before rolling his eyes at the hulking mass that was Nathan - probably there to tease him about Toki still. He made his peace that he wasn't the best tutor for Toki, as much as that hurt to admit, but they weren't going to stop him from being better.

"Hey, I heard Toki was - holy shit Skwisgaar - !"

In a flash Nathan had torn Skwisgaar's hands away from his Explorer, with Pickles and Murderface in tow as they now poked and prodded at his bloodied hands with very poorly veiled concerns.

It took over an hour of some careful wording and promises to Charles to get everyone to leave him alone after all was said and done. Even Toki had stopped by to see what happened, to which he put his foot down and shooed everyone out with promises of care and rest if they left him alone

Everyone except Nathan.

"Nat'an, you amnst needs to dotes on mes like Fatty Ding Dongs."

Nathan had taken a seat on the bed next to him, looking at him like he did when Toki or Murderface screwed up their parts.

With pity.

"Uh. Just. Take it easy, need you in peak shape."

"Can'ts stays in peak shapes if I can'ts praktises." Skwisgaar pulled his signature white fur cover on himself, his room unbearably cold still. He forgot to mention to Charles about the fact that his room needed servicing.

"Well. Maybe. Hrm. Maybe ease up. On the whole... uh. On the whole practicing thing."

"Nat'an, I has to be betters than Tokis - !"

"Skwisgaar. We were messing with you. We - I didn't think - this was a joke."

Skwisgaar looked down at his hands. He knew guitarists who had done bloody messes of themselves trying to meet deadlines. Hell, Skwisgaar had done that to himself several times trying to complete songs with Toki and Murderface, all 3 of them sporting some gnarly blisters; bloody bandaids the days after recordings were finished worn as badges of honor. Why was this a concern all of a sudden?

"I's had bloody blisters before meeting deadlines. Williams, Toki, mes toos. Amns dis about somet'ings else, Nat'ans?" Skwisgaar could see Nathan struggling to spin this in a way where nobody broke that stupid rule but it wasn't like they had particularly tried to hide it this time. Maybe it was habit at this point - Pickles talking about the insurance policies Charles took out on each of his fingers and Murderface talking about how devastated Toki would be and how he would be burdened with the younger man. As if either one of them actually played their instrument outside of concerts or the recording room.

"Look, I'm only saying this because no one else is here to hear this but Skwisgaar, this is ... uh. Concerning."

"Ands?"

"And? Is Toki getting better than you really that big a deal to you?"

"Woulds it be that bigs a deal to admit that I has not'ing else?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I only has de guitar. If I amnst de best at de guitar, what do I has to mine name?"

"You have Dethklok. You have us."

Nathan got up, giving Skwisgaar a squeeze on the shoulder, before leaving the room. His room, oddly enough, was no longer cold after that night. At least now he knew he had his band. He had his friends.

- - - - -

The Dethcopter was cold. Maybe it was because Toki and Pickles beat the living shit out of Murderface and he insisted they stay an extra hour to get some ice for his aching bruises, or maybe because he had just broken up with Tori, the first time he felt like he was at home outside of Mordhaus. Regardless of which, Skwisgaar was over it. The cold was exactly as it was from his memories - sharp, biting, numbing.

Sitting across from him, Murderface gave him an accusatory look - something Murderface had mastered over the years as their profit chasing bassist. Despite both seats facing the same direction, they both managed to face each other while they made small talk.

"Looks like Pickle and Tokis really puts de boots to you."

"I wish those fuckers put the boots to me..."

Skwisgaar, out of pity, or out of duty to the band, took his freezing hands and placed them on Murderface's knuckles, red and bruised from covering himself from Toki's and Pickles' beating. Couldn't have a bassist with useless hands. Murderface flinched at first, then took Skwisgaar's cold fingers and placed them on his other knuckles, alternating them every few seconds.

"Amns wantings to knows whats you dids to get beaten by Pickle and Toki." Murderface grumbled, or mumbled, Skwisgaar could never tell with that terrible lisp of his, before he responded.

"You know, that chick you were with looked an awful lot like schomeone we know, Skwischgaar."

Skwisgaar arched an eyebrow. He thought about all the women they knew, which wasn't many to begin with, and tried very hard to think of who his ex-girlfriend could even remotely look like.

"I's... not sure who she amns looking like." Murderface made a smug face, as a Klokateer came by to give him an ice pack for his leg.

"Whats?" Murderface took the ice pack from his knee and placed it on his hands when Skwisgaar retreated his hands, trying to question Murderface now.

"Brown hair, blue eyes. Blue sweater, really Skwischgaar?"

"She amns sweet and kinds, and likes animals. She hads a small collection of sea creature plushies. Wants to be a doctor." He smiled a little, remembering the fun dates he had with Tori, and the fun outing to the aquarium in Stockholm. He didn't even know about Skansen-Akvariet and now it became a new favorite spot in his home country to visit.

"Holy schit, plushies?" Murderface clamped a less bruised hand over his mouth, looking more like he was trying to contain his laughter instead of trying to have a conversation. Skwisgaar scowled at him.

"Ja, Williams. She amns havings a sweet side. Classy lady nameds Tori Skarsgard. She hads me whats call binge watch Moomintroll wit her, even if I alreadies seen it with Toki when he amns join - !"

"Why the fuck am I the only one here to hear this?!"

"You amns just jealous dat I founds a wonderful lady even ifs I's not famous." Skwisgaar crossed his arms in indignance, a bit upset that Murderface was finding humor in any of this. Maybe Skwisgaar was sore about letting Tori go. Maybe he was upset about the cold. Or maybe it was a mixture of both.

"Skwischgaar." Murderface stopped smiling and more or less kept a serious face. At this point Skwisgaar saw that maybe Murderface was seeing something he wasn't - maybe that Tori resembled someone he already knew.

" ... whatevers. It amns over wit her." Murderface sighed, a placed a hand on Skwisgaar's shoulder. Was that pity he picked up on in the bassist's voice?

"What, Williams? Are you goings to tells me to stops de moping over Tori? Tori amns amazings but evens Tori amnst a worthy of a gods?"

"What the fuck - no, I wasch going to say that she was Toki with tits, you fucking egotistical prick!"

Skwisgaar's brain short circuited at the words that came spilling out of Murderface's mouth. He blinked, and he registered that Murderface had begun to to snap his fingers in front of his face and had said - asked actually, about something. But nothing was registering.

Brunette with a large plushie collection. The blue sweater he gifted her for their aquarium date. A shared love for animals. The fact that both of them made him sit down and watch Moomintroll nonstop --

Snap!

Skwisgaar shot his hands up and slapped it over Murderface's mouth, as he scanned the Dethcopter for prying ears. Once he saw not even Klokateers were nearby, he leaned in to whisper. Murderface, who was caught mid finger snap, stopped as if frozen in ice. He locked eyes with Skwisgaar once the hands came off his mouth.

"So, what gives Skwischgaar?! Your first ever girlfriend and it's literally a female Toki - !"

"I misseds Mordhaus."

"Excuses." He and Murderface glare at each other before Murderface sighs and lets out a laugh.

"What amns funny, Williams?!" Skwisgaar crosses his arms again, furious that he didn't have his Explorer on hand and sits facing the right direction, forward to avoid looking at Murderface and his ridicule.

"You literally just realized that?!"

"Whatevers, you dildo. At least I amnst denyings dat I misses mine band."

"Nah, you missed him." Skiwsgaar spun around so fast Murderface almost got a mouth full of blonde hair.

"Never mention dis agains. Got its?"

"...I got it. If it makes you feel better - well, you didn't hear it from me personally- but I- we saw more blonde groupies too. Not even to like fuck them or anything, but just like, to have them around. The other guys, I mean. I- we all missed you." Murderface looked away, trying to put on a cool bravado and not look like he was outing himself but instead more like he was ratting out the rest of the band for blatantly caring as much as they did. With both now facing forward, Skwisgaar could swallow the humiliation of being told by Murderface of all people that Tori had been 'Toki with tits'.

Skwisgaar nodded, then replied, "What a weird ways to says the bands misses me."

"Whatever." Murderface leaned away again, before he spoke again.

"What a weird way to admit you dated a Toki with tits."

"Dat amnst true, Moidaface - !"

When Pickles and Nathan came back on the Dethcopter they found Skwisgaar and Murderface rolling around like idiots, fighting about who knew what - probably about who slept with more groupies. Again.

- - - - -

Skwisgaar felt a bone-deep cold that he couldn't shake off. It was Sweden 1984 all over again. In the distance, he could see the dying fires of riots from fans still upset about Dethklok breaking up. Rumbling in the sky signaled that the weatherman was correct as always, and rain should be coming in later. Despite this, Skwisgaar doesn't care.

His band is no more.

He takes a swig of the ipen bottle of vodka he has with him and looks from his high balcony as he leans forward on his arms. Everyone is trying to put out fires, it feels like.

With Murderface still dealing with the fallout in the political sphere after his nudes leaked, and Pickles and Nathan still fighting over a woman that Skwisgaar was positive wanted nothing to do with either of them, it left little for Skwisgaar to do except drink and think. He wandered Mordhaus like a ghost, except he was riddled with dread and stress. Maybe less a ghost, and more a haunted soul left to carry the burdens of mistakes made. To drink and think on decisions made.

And he's had plenty of time to drink and think since Pickles announced he was quitting the band.

To think about how awful he's been to Toki. To drink to the good times he took for granted. To blame himself on how he turned Toki's admiration, that righteous brutality he wanted to draw out and funnel into his playing - how he twisted it into an acidic poison that's corrupted into a desperate plea for validation. While Toki could have attempted to pour that angry energy into his guitar playing, Skwisgaar definitely didn't encourage Toki in positive ways.

He twisted Toki into the monstrosity that backstabbed him all for a stupid solo - which Toki bombed and was also still trying to make up for with those fans too.

" Oh hey, Skwisgahr! Mind if I join ya?"

Seeing that this was the balcony overlooking what was the Mordhaus equivalent of a backyard, Skwisgaar looked at Pickles and nodded. It's not like he and Pickles didn't hang out often, but nowadays, it felt like Skwisgaar had been left out to dry just like everyone else, while Pickles and Nathan feuded over Abigail.

"I see you're hitting the liquor early tonight."

"Heughs, I ackshualies am starting lates tonights."

"...is that so?"

"Yeahs. But amns enoughs about mes. Wants some?"

"Sure!" Pickles took the vodka from Skwisgaar and really took in the sight of the man. He felt those emerald green eyes look over him as he approached. Blonde locks looked dull, skin had a grey pallor, and unless his eyes betrayed him, the guitarist looked sleep deprived. Or at least Skwisgaar would assume Pickles could tell that from a glance - Pickles was always so good at seeing and telling right away what was wrong with someone.

"You okey, dood?"

"I wills be. Not my foirst times having a band break ups."

"Right. Look, I was actually lookin for ya, I wanted to say sorry fer -!"

"For whats? Tellings Nat'an dat he amnst right for breakings de master records?"

"No - !"

"For goings back to your moms after you tolds me you amnst let hers do whats she dids last time we dids mom talk?"

"Dood, unrelated and no!" Pickles downs almost the entire bottle of vodka like a true champ before Skwisgaar takes it back and drinks the remainder. He doesn't look at him when he produces the other bottle he had brought out with him, and he just knows Pickles is going to judge him for it - which is rich coming from the guy who was in rehab for drinking.

"I came to say sorry for being a shit friend. I was so bent outta shape about my shit wit' Nathan thet I forgot to check in with ya, especially after the whole thin' with Toki."

Skwisgaar spins around and smacks Pickles with his hair. Pickles sputters, trying to wipe his face.

"What amns you knows about me and Tokis?" he asks, popping the cork on the new bottle, before leaning to look at the dying riots in the distance, "Amns as much mine faults anyways, amns a punishments for mine hubris." He takes the bottle to his lips and takes a sip, and not wanting to not wake up hungover for Cornickelson's funeral offers the bottle to Pickles.

Pickles stands there gobsmacked before he takes the bottle away from Skwisgaar again. Skwisgaar rolls his eyes.

"Looks, Pickle. I cames here to be miserables before de funeral. I amnst in de mood - !"

"I'm not gonna stand here and see you kill your liver over fuckin' Toki!"

"It amnst over just hims! It amns de band, mine friends, mine music careers! I pours mine entire hearts and souls into dis!" Pickles takes a step back as Skwisgaar, drunk on both vodka and misery, looms over him as each syllable spills out of him.

"Seems likes I amns de only ones who amns not wanting Dethklok to breaks up, because it amns de foirst time I likes people - de fans and de label and mine friends - !"

Pickles tries to tackle Skwisgaar but becomes a hug when the guitarist wraps his arms around him; Skwisgaar pets his head and while the humiliation of the failed tackle stabs at his pride for a split second, there remains a longer burning shame for neglecting a friend who has been suffering in the shadows of the much more prominent fighting between himself and Nathan. He feel Skwisgaar's arms shudder, no doubt because the man was always somehow cold.

"... fuck, Skwisgahr - I'm so fuckin' sorry."

"I don'ts want de pity. I wants mine band backs."

"It's not pity, you fuckin' douchebag."

"What amns dis huh, Pickle?"

"Fuckin' ... shut up and just let me keep yer beanpole ass warm for a sec."

"You amns such a moms."

"So... do you accept my apology?"

"Ja, apolejacks accepteds."

"Geez, we have got to get you an' Toki to some classes - wait, I got an idea."

Tearing himself off of Skwisgaar, Pickles produces his phone out of his pocket and taps away, while clouds overhead blot out the stars. Skwisgaar decides his legs need too much coordination to keep him upright and slumps down next to the railing.

"You invites goirls?"

"No, I invited Toki."

Pickles had never seen someone try to sober up as quickly as Skwisgaar did. The man knew he was an emotional drunk, as evidenced by the hug earlier, and the half-confession, half-admission of him caring about the break up. And for some reason unknown to the band, Skwisgaar always refused to get drunk around Toki alone, or would get drunk with everyone. Pickles squinted at Skwisgaar as a suspicion began setting in; the guitarist is busy trying to make himself puke over the balcony, before looking back to the entryway to their home.

"Skwisgahr."

"Nej, dis amns terribles time, I's drunk as shits - !"

"Skwisgahr."

"Calls Williams, or get some groupies - !"

"Skwisgahr."

"Waits, maybes I gets sloppies and just pass out - !"

"Dood, why are you so against having Toki here?"

Skwisgaar freezes like a deer in headlights, before slumping back down against the balcony and pulling his legs up and laying his head against his knees. Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer, Pickles joins him, pulling out a joint and asking again.

"Skwisgahr, I'm askin' as a friend 'ere."

"You guys knows I amnst likings to be drunk with Toki around. Amns bad influence."

"... never stopped you from drinking and partying with 'im on ... tours..." Skwisgaar looks up to Pickles as if confused for the drifting off at the end.

Pickles looks back at him, confusion in his face.

"Now that I say it, it's like - it's with the rest of the band. Is there something else I'm not seein' here, beanpole?"

"Nothings you dildo! I don't wants him to sees de poirson whats invites him to de band to acts like... wells like drunk idiot!" Skwisgaar and Pickles both look to the entryway for a short second because they saw movement; when they see a few Klokateers come and go and one come out with ice, some drinks and glasses, Pickles continues. He thought Toki said he was close by, and he could swear on his drum set that he saw those pale blue eyes for a split second.

"What's wrong with thet?"

"Toki ands I went drinking alones once. We don't drives anymore. It were a careless act." Pickles gives him a face of realization, recalling the incident. They thought it was really awesome to see them on the news, drunk driving on live TV on a police chase. Toki shooting a gun at the news helicopter and then the crash into the barricade was the highlight. The band was excited to pick them up, even if it meant that Skwisgaar and Toki had lost their licenses to drive.

"I remember! Thet was fuckin' great."

"I crash de car. We hads de buckles on, which amns goods but..."

"Oh yeah, so... you really care thet much?"

"Toki ... he amns like music... soul twin. He amns differents. I's be a dildo to not says dat. I has been dildo to hims. Amns why I amnst mads about de book, I's mad it took a book to sees it. I deserves it for not appreskiatings Toki's skill. "

"... this is the first time I've ever heard ya talk about the kid in a nice way. But I've seen ya, Skwisgahr! You care, like, a lot."

" You amnst foirst to tells me dat." Pickles lit a joint up and passed it to Skwisgaar, who took a good puff out of it.

"Pickle? Ams Toki, I's here!"

Skwisgaar promptly started choking on the puff he took. Pickles let out a hearty chuckle. Toki waved, looking at Pickles before his eyes landed on Skwisgaar. The kid seemed nervous. Apprehensive about approaching them, and for a second it felt like he was watching a rabbit approach a wolf in its den. Maybe his eyes hadn't played tricks on him earlier.

"Amns you been arounds a long time?!"

"Nei? I's uhm, I's justs gots here." After composing himself from what looked like a potential heart attack, Skwisgaar passed the joint back to Pickles, who made a huge wave of his arm to make Toki sit down. He took a small puff then passed it to Toki once he finally sat across from them.

"So, Toki. Heard ya leaked the nudes that killed Murderface's political cahreer."

Skwisgaar leaned in, and so did the others. "If you dids, Toki, I says you dids de woirld a favors. No ones in politics amns taking bads nudes like dat."

Pickes let out a loud howl of laughter as Toki giggled.

"...amns you been drinking, Skwisgaar?"

"Ja, amns been rough wit ... Nat'an and de new music he amns doings. It's dildos." Pickles gave him a disapproving look, but Skwisgaar would rather go back to Sweden than talk about why he was on the verge of a breakdown.

"Nat'en ams needs to apologise to Pickle. It ams wrong what he did." Pickles raised the vodka bottle he had managed to get without much moving and then drank. Toki took it next after passing the joint to Skwisgaar, who snatched it from him.

"Nej, amns bads for yous."

"Pickle!?" Pickles smacked him on the arm.

"Fines."

"Play nice, both of ya."

"Skwisgaar started it."

"Toki, we all need apologize. I came to say sorry to Beanpole here." Skwisgaar felt himself shrivel up, as Toki looked at Pickles with curiosity.

"Whats about?"

"Eh, another time, kid. But I think, before we get crazy here - ya both need to clear up some shit. I'm gonna get Murderface, he just texted thet he got lost."

Toki asked why not text him again, like he did with him as Skwisgaar flopped on either trying to pull Pickles back down or freezing up.

As Pickles vanished, Skwisgaar felt too drunk and too aware and in his skin all at once. His eyes locked with Toki, and he immediately slumped back on the balcony railing, opting to grab the abandoned bottle.

"... yous not just drinking because of Nat'ens, ams you."

"Amazings brain usings, Toki. De skies amns blue too, you knows dat?"

"Okei fucker, whys Pickle says dat and leaves me wit your sour pusses?"

Skwisgaar didn't respond. He took the bottle to his lips, dipped his head back and drank. And drank. And drank. And drank --

"Stops! You amns gonna kills your liver!"

'I's not drunk or highs enoughs for dis."

"For whats?!"

He looks at Toki, who looks lost and afraid. He's not seen Skwisgaar hit a low like this, not even when he lost the endorsements after the book published, or his career was pulverized into pieces. Last time he saw Skwisgaar this drunk was the night they got arrested for drunk driving. He thought about how things were different then, how simpler their dynamic was, how easier it was to trust his band, to trust Toki.

How he took it all for granted.

"I's sorries, Tokis. You amnst deserves dis."

"What ams you talking abouts?!" Toki pulled himself closer; Skwisgaar's eyes drifted away from those pale blue hues and to Toki's hands. Those hands that he had been trusted to write for. To care for. To cherish and to play music with.

He sighed.

"You needs to talk to mes when I amnst fuckeds up. Meets me at de bar after de funerals?"

Toki, looking at him with concern and apprehension and some suspicion, nodded in agreement. Pickles came back and told them it would be a few more minutes, and Toki volunteered to go with him.

Skwisgaar cracked a small smile. Toki did too. Pickles looked at Skwisgaar, and he gave him a sloppy thumbs up. Pickles gave him one back.

- - - - -

The first thing he felt was cold. It was a common thing to feel when he didn't remember the events leading him there. Stiff and sore, he took an attempt to slip back under because being sober was awful.

Was that puke on his face?

"...eurgh.....hrmph..."

He pulled himself out of the tangle of hair, limbs and liquor spilled on and around him before he grabbed a bottle. Surprisingly, it still had alcohol in it, so he took it and a semi-clean robe and wandered out of the room. Alcohol was better for avoiding sobriety this early, for now.

It felt like it was a lifetime ago that he spent his night under that cloudy night getting drunk and high with Murderface and Pickles and Toki. With the promise of meeting Toki under better circumstances after the funeral to talk.

That night he sat at the bar by himself until he couldn't sit straight anymore.

And since then, he refused to stay sober.

It was easier that way.

And when alcohol wasn't doing it, he began to raid Pickles' stash. When Pickles cornered him, he lashed out and finally went out and found himself back on the streets of 1999, chasing a high that he promised to leave behind.

Pickles finally came to him in hysterics when he threw out his Explorer, a book he wrote some music ideas on, and a few CD cases he had stashed Toki's old guitar riffs on. Pickles only knew Skwisgaar was doing it because a CD hit one of the groupie sluts he was talking to in the backyard.

Skiwsgaar was so high on meth that Pickles had to get Murderface and Nathan to help him bring the blonde inside. It didn't take long to see that the guitarist was not drunk but high and less time for Pickles to see what it was when he saw track marks.

"I's not gonnas get lectures from you Pickle. You wents to rehabs for dis." Stunned at the remark, Murderface and Nathan watched as they both had a shouting match until both stormed off. At least Skwisgaar stopped taking meth.

That was last month.

Or last week.

Or was it last year?

He lost track of time.

It didn't matter anymore. Not without Toki.

Skwisgaar picked up a pastry in the kitchen and listened as they talked about using a new recording as part of the concert coming up. Skwisgaar nearly gagged.

"Amnst de sames."

"It'll have to do. We have recordings - !"

"Nei, Nat'an. I won'ts do its."

"Skwischgaar - !"

He threw his glass of juice at the first wall he saw.

"Fines! Dos whatever, fucking dildos."

He shoved the pastry into his mouth before they said anything and walked off. Stumbling, like a toddler just learning to walk. He makes it to the entry of the kitchen as he hears Pickles finally pipe up.

"What the fuck is Skwisgahr's problem now?"

"He, uh. He doesn't want recordings."

"... did I ever tell you guysch about the girlfriend he had in Sweden?"

Immediately, Skwisgaar turns on his heel and comes back into the kitchen and makes a dive at Murderface, until Nathan tackles him and tosses him against a counter. Pickles makes a dash to get out of the way as Murderface slowly lowers the arms he instinctively raised in his defense.

"Yous amns fuckings dildo lickers! You fuckings-- you amnst GETS ITS!"

And while his silent cries and tears didn't make sense that day, a week later when he quietly held Toki in the Dethcopter and whispered all the things he didn't get to tell him at the bar the day of the funeral, they understood.

- - - - -

Cold.

Something about the Arctic cold that made bones creak. It made joints crack like glass. Fingers ache. Skwisgaar hated it. Maybe it was his age. Maybe it was the cold, still.

How long had it been since they had first stepped onto Danzig? How much had changed since then?

His head throbbed, the ground wobbled -

A warm arm wrapped around his middle before his knees gave out.

"Shit - Toki, come help with yer brother!"

If Skwisgaar wasn't on the verge of puking his guts out he'd chew out Pickles for calling on Toki to help him. With Murderface on his right side Toki came up on the other, clutching Deaddy Bear as Pickles ran his hand over Skwisgaar's head. Wait, when did Skwisgaar get shorter?

"Of course Skwischgaar is a mess, he's light as fuck! Feels like a lady!"

"Yous a lady, Williams!"

"Dood, how many fingers am I holdin'?"

"Amnst blind, Pickle - !"

"No, but uh. You have a concussion. Got those in high school. Erm. A lot. I know one when I see one."

As Pickles and Nathan both talked about how Skwisgaar was going to recover, and Murderface grumbled about how no one cared about how he felt after having been possessed - all Skwisgaar wanted to do was make sure he at least made it back to Mordhaus -

"Skwisgaar?"

Toki pressed Deaddy Bear to Skwisgaar's arms, and then held Skwisgaar in a tight hug. The cold he felt began to seep out of him as Toki slowly looked up and finally locked eyes with him. He had taken a seat next to him, under Skwisgaar's arm still.

"I know it was you who carried me," he said in Swedish, "Let Toki carry you now."

"... this is a hug, Toki." Toki just hugged him tighter.

"What have I said about not speakin' English? No Snow-Speak!"

"Picklesch, its called Swedish." Toki gave Murderface a look, as Skwisgaar finally manages to hold down the Doritos they gave them in their cells the night before. He says what he assumed Toki was also thinking.

"...what de fucks amns Snows ... Speaks?"

"A schtupid term he picked up from reading ..."

Skwisgaar saw Pickles panic for a split second as Murderface stopped. Toki loosens his arms, but doesn't let go of Skwisgaar, to lean closer to Murderface, who also looks like he's panicking.

"Readings what?"

"Wowies, Mordaface, how ams you knows wes speaking Svenska?"

"I made an educated guessch."

"Yeah! Ya only speak in Swedish when - !"

"Readings what, Pickle?!"

"Uh... fans! Social media stuff! The fans think you an' Tokes have some secret language! They call it thet." Based on Nathan's own face, Skwisgaar felt like maybe Pickles was lying through his teeth. He was not going to pry further now, however - his stomach was threatening to empty itself again. Skwisgaar pried his right arm away from Murderface to clamp his mouth and then rub his stomach as he took a deep breath.

"Shit, uh. We gotta get you, mhrm, Murderface, and Charles looked at. Like, now." Pickles made a quick turn and immediately pointed at something Skwisgaar couldn't see from his angle. Sitting on the snow aside, the view out here wasn't bad. Nathan patted Pickles on the shoulder before walking in the direction he pointed. Maybe it was Charles? Pickles began walking away and talking with Nathan, before he stopped and made a motion to Murderface.

"Murderface, come help Nathan grab Charles! Looks like there's someone helpin' already."

Murderface grumbled something about suffering from success, which made absolutely no sense to Skwisgaar, but he was using the time of quiet to gather his thoughts. Toki finally, slowly pulled himself away from him and smiled sweetly.

"...Skwisgaar, I know you and I have had our problems, and I haven't made a great friend. But I mean it. Let Toki carry the weight for now. If that includes you when things get tough, then I will." Skwisgaar grabs Toki's fretting hand and rubs his thumb over the callouses there. Even now Toki is clingy, needy, affectionate, caring. And it's not just with Skwisgaar, even if it is who he does it the most with - he went to Pickles or Nathan if he needed help with anything or to Murderface for fun and laughter.

With Skwisgaar he often just sat and listened to what the Swede said, chords and strings and arpeggios the backdrop for the lessons and practice sessions in Deus Keep.

He wondered what happened in the time they forgot.

He wondered what made this Toki so clingy.

He wondered if he did something to him.

He wondered why Toki and not --

"You are thinking too loud."

"Sorry, my head is a mess."

"Speak your mind, Skwisgaar."

He lets go of Toki's hand, and holds himself in the biting cold as he formulates his thoughts. Danzig is where they both 'confessed' to their intentions going forward in their music, and Skwisgaar wanted to keep that same spirit. Here was Toki wanting to mend things - either because he felt guilty about the book or because he felt he wasn't pulling enough weight in the dynamic, but here he was ready to help Skwisgaar.

Ready to not just be an equal, but his friend.

"Toki... if you have been a bad friend, then I've been outright shit to you. You trusted me with your talent, and I squandered that. I never gave you reason enough to be excited or passionate for the music if I never let you shine. It's just as much my fault - !"

Toki launches himself on Skwisgaar, a crushing hug and then shaking shoulders. Skwisgaar panics as he realizes Toki's crying, and he slowly and awkwardly begins to rub the younger man's back as he pulls himself tighter on the blonde.

"I promise to put my ego aside from now on. Okay?"

Toki nods his head, and Skwisgaar suddenly realizes something.

"Tokis... amns you using mine shoirts to wipes your face?!"

Toki shakes his head no, but then pulls himself away and gives Skwisgaar an angry look.

"You says nice things and you worry about yous stupid shirt?!"

"It amnst a hankys chef to wipes snot off ... your - !" Almost immediately, Skwisgaar feels it and loses to his stomach, as it empties itself and he only feels Toki rub his back as he goes for a second round, and finally, his stomach gives up fighting him. Thankfully all he did was turn his face to the side and Toki managed to get his face out of the way before he whispered reassurances that it would get better once he had something to eat and some proper food and sleep.

"...the fucker exploded into red mist! Farm equipment is brutal!"

"That uh. That explains why we didn't see a corpse."

"Skwisgahr ain't doing so great too, Charles, we're gonna get ya'll checked out."

"Thanks, boys."

Skwisgaar wipes part of his mouth as Toki keeps a hand on him and the other cradling Deaddy Bear. It sounds like they did find Charles. Good.

His ears ring for half a second, before he sees Charles carried by Nathan and Murderface. Behind them is what looks like a nurse and a paramedic, and a Klokateer with a duffel bag slung on over a shoulder - if he recalled correctly, many of the non-combat Gears had been left in chapters scattered throughout cities to help in the days of the prophecy but to still see them around was --

"Wowies, a Klokateers?!"

"Lord Wartooth, Lord Skwigelf, an honor. I have some emergency first aid kits and these two medical professionals volunteered to assist with what they could. Mr. Offdensen has been stabilized and can be treated for minor injuries while we look at Lord Murderface and Lord Skwigelf."

Pickles approached Toki with a diabetes monitor and insulin kit, while the paramedic looked at Skwisgaar, and the nurse looked over Murderface. Murderface was cleared physically of anomalies, and Toki was given a sticker and insulin to make sure his levels were stable. With that, Pickles and Nathan helped clean up Charles with the nurse ans Toki and Murderface kept Skwisgaar company.

With both sitting next to him, he only has to whisper as the paramedic does some final checks and gives him some medications.

"Sos, Williams, Toki. When amns you thinkings dat Nat'en and Pickle finallies realizes de truth?"

"Truth about what, Skwischgaar?"

"... you amnst sees it!?"

Toki sticks out his tongue as he squints hard at the pair, busy trying to make sure they help. They're both helping Charles with his mangled hand, cleaning and bandaging what they can.

"...thats they sucks at doctors?"

"You amns dildos at dis. Nat'en and Pickles? De worry abohts eqch other? De way de boths amns so carings wit each other?" Murderface and Toki both let out a sound of realization, before excitement and shock creeps over both of them.

"Wait, you think they are together?!"

"That ams make it reals mom and dad?!"

"Looks, we amns smart and can sees it. We amnst idiots. We can sees what amns plains as light of days!"

At this point, Murderface looks at Skwisgaar and then Toki. Henarrows his eyes at the guitarists, as if he's expecting either of them to say something - Skwisgaar looks at him and gives him a questioning look instead.

"What, Williams?"

He just needed to find the people that wanted him first.

"You know what, Skwischgaar? You aschtound me. You really do." Skwisgaar smiled, as he realized that he hadn't felt cold for a while now. Here he was out in Danzig, in near Arctic temperatures, and he felt warm as if he was standing outside on a sunny day. Maybe he was wanted, after all.

Like Nathan, who reminded him he had more than just his guitar - he was Skwisgaar and he had his friends too.

Like Murderface, who reminded him his band wasn't just another gig, it was his friends who liked him for him.

Like Pickles, who reminded him that he didn't need to struggle alone, and apologies made people grow.

And like Toki, who showed Skwisgaar that he was someone worth trusting.

Who, despite all their up and downs, still wanted to be his friend. Who still wanted to play music with him.

Toki, who wanted to shine just as much as he wanted Skwisgaar to shine too.

Toki. His friend. His brother. His equal.

#metalocalypse #mtl #dethklok #fanfic #long fic #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #william murderface #charles foster offdensen #implied skwistok #nickles #other:#felt possessed to write this #so much of this is just what. i think happened between or after big events #will post to AO3 at some point idk

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lightwise · 11 months ago

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TBB S3 E4 Recap and Reaction

- Poor Crosshair keeps getting stuck on cold planets.

- Batcher banging on the chair ready to get out 🤣🤣

- These shuttles are really interesting to me. It’s rare to see a ship that size that can be piloted by two different people.

- Baby girl, I totally understand your logic in wanting to pull the data logs to see where Tantiss actually is, but given how tactful we know Hemlock has been so far in keeping his location hidden, most likely it wouldn’t pull up anything.

- What a dreary spaceport. Feels very Andor and very like Norwegian Star Wars.

- The level of snark that Omega is giving back to Crosshair is cracking me up. We don’t see her showing this level of talking back or being sarcastic with any of the other Batchers, which proves my theory that Crosshair’s constant level of highly annoyed at everything around him brings out the sarcasm in everyone else he encounters.

- Love that his knowledge as a former imperial is coming to play to help them.

- Also love that Omega was the one to recognize that they need different clothes (and the obvious pan of the camera on the clothes hanging on the line in the first shot of the spaceport to accentuate that fact).

- Quilted clothes in Star Wars is my fave (yes more Andor parallels).

- The uplilt and little scoff that Omega gives and the look she gives Batcher after Crosshair snarls about bringing “the hound” along is PRECIOUS

- Also Cross and Omega cross their arms the same way. Okay okay I’ll never be over their dynamic here.

- Crosshair’s trucker hat/scuba apparatus is hilarious. He doesn’t look too bad though. Surely he’s at least warmer now.

- The credits negotiation omg. I love how Cross is just waiting for this to play out before he makes a move.

- YES omg are my baby girls strategy skills FINALLY coming back into play??

- Oh no no no no no this kid is going to rat them out isn’t he. You guys need to be more mindful of your surroundings!! Ahhh (okay I’m glad this didn’t happen).

- Honestly at this point Crosshair would be me as well. Just lots of very annoyed sighing.

- I love that Crosshair is getting to see all the things about Omega that the other boys know already, but he hasn’t had a chance to witness yet. We know she can wipe the floor with most people on strategy games/gambling.

- Yep nope this captain is not good news. Don’t get distracted by ranting about Imperial bribery, don’t do it, don’t….*sigh* I hate the Empire so much.

- Oh no this is so bad! I swear WHY is every imperial such a slimy self aggrandizing POS.

- Aww Crossy hunched down at almost table level ready to tear the room apart if anyone touches his baby sister. Adorable murder kitten. 😸

- Also Crosshair when all of this is over: where the HELL did you learn to gamble like that!?! Omega: 🤷🏻‍♀️😇😁

- Also also what game are they playing? Those cards are beautiful.

- Oh no they’ve found the shuttle already. Dear god this episode is so stressful!!

- CROSS!DAD IS OFFICIALLY CANON lmao

- Okay I was hoping Omega would let him win bc this isn’t going to go over well

- Whoa I didn’t actually expect him to concede. Maybe he’s not quite as slimy as I thought. Doesn’t matter though, the shuttle will give them away regardless.

- Of course. There it is. Let all the seedy businesses thrive as long as you get your fine out of it. Ugh. This is paralleling a lot of imperial activities in Rebel Rising and the Ahsoka novel as well.

- I also love how Omega uses touch with Crosshair to calm him down and communicate with him.

- Whoa I did not expect Omega to throw the credits and basically give Crosshair the choice of abandoning her or not. Nor for him to actually have to think about it for a moment.

- “My skills are being wasted” the boy does not like feeling helpless. I understand.

- This is going to give Cross some understanding of what Hunter has been going through the last few years. Especially if he ends up losing her.

- “Don’t push it” and the extra head shake after lmao.

- Geez this man is just lining his pockets every which way isn’t he. Despicable.

- “Alright, let’s try things your way” “Finally” I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

- Animal stampede!

- Oh gosh is Cross going to get left behind??

- Aw he finally called her Batcher.

- We are clearly seeing how much Omega has actually been tempered by the rest of the Batchers being around her until now. The unfiltered combined powers of Omega and Crosshair at their most unhinged is maybe more than the galaxy is ready for 🤣🤣

- Also a very Andor reference with the captain being stampeded almost to death and having his gun kicked away from him in the melee

- NO WAY WE FINALLY GET AN IMPERIAL GETTING THEIR DUE BY CREATURE DEATH once again *cough cough* not a kids show

- Awwww Batcher licking Crosshair’s face. He’s so done for.

- They got away. Wow. I actually wasn’t expecting that. And with most of the money too.

- Okay. Smart girl. She did not pick Pabu.

- What an ending. Wow. So. Similar to Mando season 3 (which is also scaring me) — what the heck is the rest of this season going to be about?

- This reunion is everything. 🥹🥹🥹 the hugs. The running. The tears. The worry. The anger. The hesitation. The fear. The literal and metaphorical distance between their ships that someone will have to cross. They better not fast forward a millisecond when the next episode picks up I swear.

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 3

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princeofteevs · 10 days ago

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About "Christianity" in Scandinavia (Varg)

Varg Vikernes: When Norway became a part of Denmark in 1450 we too became officially Catholics, but the Danes had to send Danish priests to Norway, because there were no Norwegian Catholics. According to the records of history these Danish priests, and other Danish officials, did not have an easy job. They described the Norwegians as "wild" people, and especially the people living in the mountains were "hostile", "unchristian" and "dangerous". One of our inland counties still carries the name "Hedmark", that translates as "The Land of the Pagans". The Danish sheriffs and priests were regularly beaten to death by the Norwegian peasants, and some men even competed against each other, trying to be the one who had killed the most Danish priests and sheriffs. One story from Telemark ("The Land of Thule", another mostly inland county in Norway) tells us that a young man refused to stop until he had killed "at least as many priests as my father killed". This was in the XVIth century! They have also found archeological evidence that some places people made (animal) sacrifices in ancient holy lakes continuously from the Stone or Bronze age and all the way to the XVIIth century!

The explanations of this is of course the fact that Norway was actually never Christianized, as we understand the term. In 1030 they had officially been converted to a faith that was a mix of Pagan beliefs, including Sun worship and a Gnostic form of Christianity. When they met the Danish Catholic priests in the XVth century, who tried to convert them to Catholicism, many of them reacted with violence.

What saved the situation, to some extent, was the Reformation in the early XVIth century. It was more acceptable for the difficult and narrow-minded Norwegians to convert to Protestantism, rather than to the religion of their "oppressors", the Danes. As we know Denmark-Norway became Protestant, and finally most of the "wild" people were slowly Christianized, as we understand the term.

The interesting thing about this, is that the Norwegian people and parts of the Swedish people have never been Catholic! Norway is the only country in Europe that has been neither Greek/Russian-Orthodox nor Catholic. Also, old Pagan religious practices were common as late as the XVIIth and possibly the XVIIIth century. That is quite amazing, and it helps people understand the mentality of the modern Norwegian, and why only 3% of the Norwegian population goes to church (and most of these few church-goers are very old people too, who already have one foot in the grave).

The next time You wonder why there are so many Black Metal bands in Norway, of all countries, and the next time You wonder why it all began in Norway, think about what I have told You in this article...

#Norway #Norwegian #Varg Vikernes #Black Metal #true norwegian black metal #Burzum #Paganism #Wotanism #Odalism #Thulean Perspective #Asatru #Heathenry #Norse Heathen #Norse Pagan #gnostic christianity #viking religion

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dichromaticdyke · 1 year ago

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Dethklok musical guilty pleasure headcanons 🖤

because there have been a few canonical moments of them admitting to enjoying "non-brutal" music and i bet they all enjoy more than they let on.

Nathan

glam rock is like. the full extent of guilty pleasure ideas i can pull for nathan. he’s canonically admitted to enjoying rockzo's music (not even just enjoyed, he called his comeback "fucking amazing"). he's out there listening to zazz blammymatazz and snakes n barrels in secret i promise you. snb especially bc something something glam rock pickles.

Skwisgaar

skwisgaar is incredibly proud of being swedish—he loves ikea for the sole reason it’s swedish and used to wear a belt buckle of the fuckin swedish flag. so…ABBA and other swedish pop, right? hell, maybe even swedish folk/country. i wouldn’t even be surprised if one or more of his former bands was swedish folk but it didn’t work out because he played too fast.

Toki

okay so toki seems like the kinda guy who doesn’t have "guilty" pleasures since there are several times where he argues with the band to justify his own non-brutal interests. and we already know he likes 80s type pop since that’s the style of music all his songs are in. that being said…norwegian black metal. i know what i said about this being music they listen to that isn't brutal, but i fully believe that his childhood trauma, especially the trauma that comes from his strictly religious upbringing, did leave him with some internalized guilt about the whole 90s norwegian black metal scene, church burnings, satanism, etc. so if it's not a guilty pleasure in the sense that his friends might mock him for listening to it, it's a guilty pleasure in the sense of internalized religious guilt.

if you don't buy all that, then...i don't know...outsider music. because toki genuinely appreciates how much everyone's trying with their music even if they're technically bad.

Murderface

on the flip side—DEFINITELY christian rock. that one's basically canon tho since they want to that christian rock concert when murderface was experimenting with religion and his takeaway was "pretty good." i imagine he kept listening to some afterwards even if he's not necessarily christian.

Pickles

post-grunge. i won't elaborate. look at that man and tell me he doesn’t listen to puddle of mudd on the regular.

*bonus*

they all, 100%, listen to women-fronted metal. after proclaiming women can't be brutal, they each secretly listen to any metal band with a woman in it. none of them suspect a thing, yet they are all terrified of the rest of the band finding out. it started with ladyklok bc they all thought lady pickles was hot and it just snowballed from there.

#dichromaticdyke.exe #Metalocalypse #Nathan Explosion #Skwisgaar Skwigelf #Toki Wartooth #William Murderface #Pickles the Drummer

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oh-saints · 2 years ago

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sunshine becomes you (pt. 2)

Despite his young age, Martin's the captain for the Arsenal for a reason. He's calm and collected most of the time and opponents rarely could ever entice any provoking display of emotion from him. But there's one person in London Colney that rubs him in all the wrong way... yet he wants to help her?

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word count: 3.5k

Note: turns out i can't put the words into 2-part stories so here we go, it's turning into a mini series! (is this a good news for you, odegirlies?) but it won't be longer than 5-part, though, as i'm working on the ending as we speak. oh and beware of the dialogues that's spiking in number than in pt. 1. but as usual, i happen to write this at dawn so this is ofc not proof-read. feedbacks are also always welcome! hope you like them as much as i like writing them!

sunshine becomes you masterlist here

Tags: @julianalvarez9 @notleclerc <3 (lemme know if you want to be included!)

“Eve,”

The owner of the name jumped in her seat. “Martin.”

You must’ve thought Martin officially helping Eve would melt the ice as big as the Antarctica between them? No, not a chance.

No matter how many times Martin had graced the front desk with his presence—of which the the amount had increased significantly by a grand total of two times since their first ever conversation a while ago—Eve couldn’t shake off the feeling of being surprised.

Probably because she was, considering Martin always dropped by in times she least expected him to. And considering the fact they didn’t share any other interaction during the same length of time between their monumental event—as she liked to call the first time Martin had spoken to her—and present.

Yes, unfortunately Martin had resorted back to his old habit of shrugging off her morning greetings, and she didn’t know what and how else to engage him without revealing their secret plan.

Maybe she’d hoped for the stars. But in all honesty, she didn’t expect Martin to go full on bright replying her like Bukayo always did—a small smile would be more than enough, considering where and how far Martin and Eve had come from.

Maybe he was sticking true to his part of this plan of theirs. They did agree that their first—and last—appearance at the Christmas party would be a surprise nobody could’ve seen coming. If he did concede to Eve’s signature good morning in front of Louisa, the building would’ve sniffed the bloody smell in less than 15 minutes.

“I’ve got another package.”

“Ah, yeah, just in time,” At this point, Eve was already a master in hiding her disappointed expression that Martin still considered her as nothing more than mailbox. “Another one for Martin Odellson. Quite a creative name, by the way.”

“Glad you think my way of evading stalker’s creative,” Martin didn’t smile much, especially around her, but maybe it was for the best. The small tug on the corner of his lips became so much valuable than it was. “Where’s Louisa?”

“She’s off early today, sick and all,” Eve handed him the form to sign and his package beside them. “Why’d you ask?”

No, nope. She swore to God she’d asked purely out of curiosity, not because she’d wondered what she hadn’t done that earned Louisa of Martin’s acknowledgement before Eve ever did, despite being half a year being Louisa’s senior.

“Good riddance, then,” Eve couldn’t believe her ears of Martin’s words. That’d got to be the vilest sentence that came out from the good captain’s mouth, bar the things he spitted to express his exasperation on the pitch. “How’s the dress I sent you? It fits you fine, I take it?”

Right, the evening gown that shocks me to the very last of particles. “Yeah, about that…”

Martin hummed, encouraging her to continue, as his hands moved to curve his signature on the form.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you that.”

The Norwegian finished off the last cursive as he pointed her another blank look. “Why didn’t you?”

“Because I don’t know how to get a hold of you without being suspected by everyone in this building and their mothers?” Oh, it felt so good to throw back Martin’s Mr-Know-It-All look for once. “Have you ever thought of it that way?”

But Martin didn’t slip on his feet. The captain threw the same amount of isn’t-obvious look to her. “You have my phone number.”

“Wait, I can text you?”

Eve was meaning to throw him some sarcastic reply but Martin genuinely didn’t think much of it. “Why do you think you can’t?”

“You don’t exactly give off the vibe that I can,” How dare he rolls his eyes at me now?! “About the gown, though. I’m afraid I’ll have to return them to you.”

“Why, it doesn’t fit you or something?” He shifted his weight away from his left leg, his head leaning to the same direction in confusion. “Do I get your size wrong?”

Eve really couldn’t fathom that look, that very look of pure confusion plastered all over his face. As if she was acting strange, as if it didn’t concern him for once that he’d get hold of her size without asking Eve herself.

The last one, though—she promised herself to ask him next time. “No, but it’s Oscar de La Renta.”

“And?”

“And? And?” Martin had to steer his head away five inches back, due to the outburst. “That gown costs my entire arm!”

“But I’m sure you look beautiful in it.”

No will look, no going to. As if it was the present, the long withstanding fact.

Eve had to give it to Martin if this was the game he always plays with whomever he’s romantically involved in. He played his cards with the minds of Mikel Arteta and the face of a poker player. “Well, that’s—”

“You don’t deny it so I must be right,” Eve could sigh in resignation. She didn’t know Martin could be stone-headed, but then her knowledge of him was rather limited. “I don’t see the reason to return them to me, then.”

“But it makes me feel cheap, okay?” Eve let out another deep breath because while the sentence carried out a heavy weight, somehow talking to Martin—as much as she hated spelling it out for his clueless self—made it better. “Like you pay me for acting well.”

Martin let out a breath that was borderline scoffing, and Eve decided she didn’t like it one bit. “You know that is never my intention, Eve. Never, you hear me? You think of it too much,”

And before the gaping mouth of hers could produce another sound, Martin shut her down. “You feel like that because you let yourself think that way. Me, on the other hand, is helping you gather whatever’s dignity stolen from you because I want to,”

Eve had to hold back an audible gasp when Martin’s eyes zeroed back at her, and she—for a stupid, split moment—thought how his opponents didn’t cower under his stare. It felt so intense, so… intimate, too, in their case. As if one word from her would shatter the thin bubble they were in.

“If it’s any help, no one deserves to be treated the way Bob did to you. I can’t stand that, regardless who they are,” But the smile etched in his face didn’t fade at all, resembling him to the Joker on a mission. “You just happen to be someone I’m well-acquainted of.”

And there it was.

Well-acquainted of.

As if he didn’t just make her feel beautiful before the word came crashing down on her.

“If it makes you feel better about it, you can always pay it back.”

Martin really didn’t get the memo to leave her alone for a minute, did he?

“It’d take me a thousand years to pay you back,” Eve couldn’t help but to roll her eyes this time around. “Not everyone earns a hundred thousand pounds a week, Martin.”

“Then do me a favour, since I’ve done one,” The eagerness in his eyes didn’t dim for a second, hands now placed on the desk between them. The determination Eve could notice as he leaned in was actually a sight to be held—if he grazed the grass a bit here—and she could understand why the rest of the team was willing to fight alongside him and Mikel. “Let someone take care of you for a night,”

Eve didn’t bother to let the gasp escape her lips.

“Let me do that for you, at least, as my parting gift.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

Eve so officially hated Martin Ødegaard.

Martin had texted her a couple of hours just before he was supposed to pick her up, that he couldn’t do the first part of the charade a.k.a the red carpet, because he had to do all the media duties for Christmas week and pre-party stuffs. Eve knew it was his obligation as a well-loved player but good God, they were supposed to come to the party together, not just being seen together. Why didn’t he finish those things before tonight, anyway?

Well, the good old Norsk insisted it was going to look better on her because they would swoop everyone more speechless than they intended before hanging up on her.

How was she supposed to tell him that a big part of her confidence, especially when wearing this overpriced peace of clothing, came from having him near her?

Everyone had been complimenting how good she looked with the gown or how fantastic the colour complimented her complexion, but Eve couldn’t help but still feel like a fraud. She might be thanking them in honesty but when Martin joined her later, nothing that came out of her mouth would be genuine, nothing more than a set of practiced lies she and Martin had planned beforehand. She wasn’t good at lying at the first place, adding the reason why she so badly needed her partner-in-crime to be here with her.

Relax, Eve. No one knows you’re here with Martin yet, which means you’re still not lying to anyone yet, she said to herself. She sounded more like she hypnotised herself at this point but she didn’t care anymore. She wanted to take a revenge on her heartbreak without feeling too much guilt eating her from inside out.

“I don’t recall you being invited here,” Oh, speaking of the devil, complete in flesh and blood. “Who’s your link?”

“I don’t recall they can let in a piece of jerk inside,” Don’t look at him, Eve. You’re much stronger than that. “Who’s your link?”

“You don’t answer my question.”

She still didn’t spare him a look, no matter how much her eyes caught on his movements. “It’s a question that doesn’t deserve an answer.”

Bob scoffed, the very one that he gave when he felt oh so superior. Eve realised now that he used to give her the same kind so much when they were dating. “You know we’ll find out soon enough, don’t you?”

“Certainly not from me,” Eve was so ready to puke at the sight of him, she’d never hated Martin more than now for not blocking her direct view of this scumbag. “You know how much I hate giving attention to any attention seeker.”

Before Bob could retaliate Eve’s attack, a familiar warmth stepped in beside her. “I’m sorry I’m late, Angel.”

On any other circumstances, Martin’s hand slithering its way on Eve’s back and his lips touching the side of her head would definitely give her a stroke. This time, knowing she’d have him on her side for the rest of the night, was turning to warm all over her body with a familiar sense of security. Probably an abundance of comfort, too—not that she’d tell him that now.

But at least, she let him know how relieved she was that he was now here with her as they shared looks when he continued, “Media duties, you know?”

Martin welcomed the underlying gratefulness from Eve and smiled at the tiniest form of communication only two of them understood. Oh, so much had changed the past weeks between them—she took a mental note to treat him something of his liking with her severance pay for understanding her without words.

Eve shot him back a smile, this time her eyes followed by a teasing glint and he somehow knew she was in to kill the man bothering her. “Oh, how would I know, really? I mean, this is my first rodeo having a footballer boyfriend.”

Martin’s smile widened at her unprecedented choice of words to jab the frozen ex-boyfriend they both unanimously and silently decided to ignore. “Then I shall show you what you’ve been missing on, baby.”

“Fancy seeing you here, Martin.”

If it wasn’t because of the music, her ex-boyfriend would certainly not miss the deep growl Martin unconsciously let out overlaying the deep sigh.

“Ah, yes, Bob. I see you haven’t lost your inner arsehole,” Martin smiling when he didn’t mean it was the scariest kind of Martin, Eve had come to realise. “Was he bothering you at all, Angel?”

Eve knew they were only spitting their rehearsed line but she could see Martin’s eyes were blazing with real fire burning, even though he didn’t spare her a glance—heck, he was busy sizzling Bob down. She could only hope she wouldn’t be at the other end of that stare, ever.

“Angel?”

Martin didn’t need to look back at Eve to know the answer to that; her head shaking lightly against his suit was enough of an answer. Which relieved him because he hated going to the media duties, knowing he’d leave her exposed for anyone to see at the party.

“Good,” As a result of his dangerous thought, he pulled Eve closer by the waist, hating more at the possible number of men trying to talk her out of here before he came. “I’d hate to break some legs on this beautiful night.”

“I didn’t know you’re together.”

“I don’t see the reason to tell the whole world I’m dating someone else,” Eve had been waiting all week for Martin to throw any punchline—he’d spoilt her with his discreet desire to verbally punch him since physical brawl isn’t allowed—at Bob for bringing his mistress to the physio internal party. “You see, that’s the difference between being truly famous and trying to be popular with the crowd. We’d like to keep most of our matters private.”

Sweet mama. Eve was starting to not regret having Martin as her date. No one else delivered those lines with such precision without having to literally look Bob from head to toe in disgust—his own fame and achievement had already done it for him.

“But I thought you—”

“Why are you surprised anyway? Are you starting to regret dumping her now she’s with me?”

Their script didn’t go as far as this phase, should they encounter Bob confronting Eve. But damn, Eve couldn’t stop marvelling how Martin sounded protective of her. Like they were real.

Which was a very dangerous thought, she had to add in bold.

“Don’t you ought to say thank you to me for dumping her?”

Martin might not show it in his face but he was seething with anger at merely the sight of this guy. Now he had the nerve to say that? If it wasn’t because of Eve’s hand traveling on his back, bringing him down to Earth where Eve was there with him and the last thing he’d like to do was to embarrass her, he would’ve definitely started a brawl. Consequences be damned. “You should be the one thanking me for not pursuing her from the very first day I came to the club. Now, will you excuse us because I’d like my girlfriend to meet people I care about.”

Eve’s heart took another deep plunge to the trench for reasons she was confused herself. Was it because how proud she was of Martin showing who was the boss or for was it because how natural the word ‘girlfriend’ rolled out of his tongue?

Eve took another mental note to tell Martin slow down with the whole couple thing or she might fall into the same deception everyone else received from their acts tonight.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

The outcome of the altercation between Martin and Eve’s ex-boyfriend, despite the captain trying to handle it low and classy, was that the entire room was reduced to silence.

Some were astounded at how Martin could lose control over his temper outside the pitch. Some others were more astonished at the sight of Martin coming to Eve’s aid—with a side kiss, mind you!—when the entire Emirates Stadium at this point that Martin had never brushed shoulder with the woman during his stint in Arsenal’s shirt so far.

Eve could feel herself slowly shrinking under everyone’s prying eyes because it was totally overwhelming for someone who had always been a fan of Arsenal, not the other way around. Unlike Martin, whom everyone and their mothers idolised.

“Breathe, Angel,” Eve even jumped at Martin’s whisper, as he led her towards their table with a gentle nudge feathering across her open back, because none of this was what she signed up for. She only agreed to steal the thunder from Bob and the wench, not to direct the spotlight to her. “You’re doing great.”

She hissed under her breath, “How on Earth could you play in a full-packed stadium?!”

“Let them be,” Martin maneuverer her from his left to his right, hands still placed firmly on her hips, bar the subtle movement of back and forth towards her belly to slightly ease her nerves. “I have the prettiest gem of all, after all.”

Martin must be talking about someone else.

“Don’t blame me if I puke on your expensive shoes.”

The free, unfiltered laughter from Martin left Eve in a further bewildered state it left her breathless. For his entire facial features lit up in the way the lighting above was only able to pronounce them more beautifully than usual. “Then talk to me, what are you thinking now?”

“Angel?” Now that they were seated for the formal charity gala that was about to start, along with the rest of the leadership team, Eve could finally confront the one thing that had been bothering her so far into the night. “Really, Martin?”

Martin slid his arm behind her, perching comfortably on top of the chair, as if he’d done it a thousand times before. Like everything in this setting was his habitat, and Eve tried to tone down the shudder than ran on her back at the thought Martin was cunning as the con-artist Eve had expected to save her arse the first time he’d offered his help.

But at that precise point, Eve could care less about the remaining of their table. She couldn’t look away at the crease he made due to his movement of leaning in too close to her, the shirt hugging his body deliciously perfectly. The music in the background could swallow their conversation anyway.

“Your name’s Evangeline, no?”

Martin’s tone wasn’t challenging but the glint on his eyes teasingly said the otherwise. I’d like to see you try, those Nordic Ocean blue eyes said, and she had no other choice but to fall deep down the abyss. “It is—”

“Then why fight me?”

“Because nobody calls me like that.”

“Exactly why I’m calling you that,” Martin loved getting a reaction out of a flustered Eve, so he did just that. He leaned in, so much closer to her she could sniff his perfume, and my God was it more intoxicating than the expensive champagne rolled in every minute. “What kind of boyfriend am I to call you like everyone else? Where’s the speciality card for the boyfriend?”

Eve stiffened at his charge; her mind went white all of the sudden. “How do you know my full name, by the way?”

Martin couldn’t help but smirk at her futile attempt to hide her nervousness. “I know a lot more about you than you think I do.”

There went Eve’s existence, dissolved into the air at Martin’s words. She should really gather herself before she went down the drain that Martin had—rather on false pretense, on top of that—been leading her. Think, Eve! Think of something! You cannot succumb to the pressure! “Ugh, how can beat that nickname? It can’t get more original than yours.”

Martin actually laughed from her futile attempt to hide her flustered self. “I’d like to see you try, solskinn.”

*solskinn means “sunshine” in norwegian. but cmiiw.

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