#ch: astrid

[dantehart]

WHEN: April 8th, 2023 WHERE: Port Grave Docks WHO: @astridmaikdottir​

When Dante had been a little boy, there was no place he loved more than the ocean. Or, to be more specific, the docks, with his little feet dipping in and out of the water as the waves rolled in. Lumbering with the kind of ease that both thrilled him and filled him with a sense of uneasiness. Like even the ocean itself could foretell his own shift. The doom that loomed despite the brightness of disposition. The feelings were brought on by easy days with his father, watching him work on weekends, his mother just happy to have a little peace to finish up grading papers without him screaming or getting into trouble.

Now, as he looked out, arms curled onto the railing, he felt nothing more than disappointment. In himself. In his father. In the path that laid itself out before him, offering nothing more than a life of tribute. Like every step he took from here on was actually for someone else. Dante had never really hated the road he chose from himself. But after a rather nasty discussion with his father about fifteen minutes prior to where he stood now, he wondered, not for the first time, if he continued making a mistake in not giving up completely.

A boat roared to life behind him. Likely his father getting the engine up and running, or maybe just someone testing for some kind of leak. He had almost considered becoming a fisherman, just to have an excuse to be here. Lucky for everyone involved the heat of a roaring blaze called out to him. The sign of mistakes and a future that he would try desperately hard to continue making right.

He had come here with one intention in mind: offering up his apartment for a small Easter celebration. He’d cook. He’d clean. All his parents had to do was show up, pretend to be interested in him, and move on with their lives afterward. But even the suggestion, the hint of an event, was met with the kind of brutal force that left him feeling seasick. Only the railing beneath his forearms was keeping Dante upright. There was nothing to be done about the tears gathering in his eyes. Nor the brutal wind that ripped at his shirt like a desperate lover.

One day he’d get this right. It just wasn’t today. So he’d take the loss. And he did. Dante went to turn, and what greeted him was a pair of eyes that made him lose his balance completely. One moment he was standing, queasy with the unshakeable feeling like he’d lost something, and the next he was ass to the splintered beams below.

“Well, shit.”

[cass1x1]

astrid/zara: [ 📲 sms: ] you were in my dreams last night. wanna hear? / [ 📲 sms: ] you’re my favorite veggie. a cute-cumber!

[ 📲 sms: ] you were in my dreams last night. wanna hear?

[read at 9:02am] [unsent] yes [unsent] no that's weird [unsent] yes [unsent] depends what kind [unsent] yeah kinda [unsent] idk [9:04am] now i'm curious

[ 📲 sms: ] you’re my favorite veggie. a cute-cumber

[4:28pm] omg [4:30pm] that was so corny! did you read that somewhere?

[etenniettes]

[sboochi]

Thinking about her................... (Astrid Hofferson)

[cassie-thorne]

.

[amnyatas]

[haseti]

@worthkeepin gets a lil thing [Astrid uwu ]

﹝⚘﹞—;

"Think tha' tree might be an unfit sparring partner don't you?" He asks curiously. He wasn't one to pick most fights but he was honestly interested in seeing where he and the other stood. "'haps ye be interested in a 'etter target?" He offers.

Hiccup trusted her with his life. And seeing his newer position he wished to do the same. If she would allow him that honor.

[byronlc]

you're supposed to call and warn me before you show up here. (From Astrid for JJ)

@norvstforthvwickvd

@norvstforthvwickvd

JJ jumped from the window sill into her room.

“Sorry, my phone's dead. But I can just recharge it here, then leave, call you and come back.” He gestured with his hands toward the electric socket next to her bed, then out of the window he had just climbed through, and then back to the room in front of him.

“And while we wait for it to recharge, we could make use of a herbal recharger for ourselves,” with a wide grin he presented a joint he had pulled from his pocket.

[eulcgizeme]

OPEN TO: @hindrcnce for astrid aquino MUSE: sinclair tate james, twenty-two, i do what i want for a flashback, this is my world. slipper slope of a child star. mike faist (danii's version) fc. PLOT: the hollywood scene finally comes to a close, and sinclair drives astrid home despite not being fit to drive. he's insisted he's sober enough to drive, but a swerve just before they near his house proves he's been lying. TRIGGERS: addiction, drunk driving / driving under the influence, drug abuse, alcoholism

"I'm fine, Astrid, for the love of fuck will you let me go?" This time, insistence was softened by a slur instead of understanding and much less defeat. He had stepped out of the car again, engine running but the emergency break stalling any attempts on Sinclair's behalf to act upon the jerk of his knee on the gas pedal. The protest roared against asphalt, but he was stuck in place. If the severity of it all didn't eat the moment, it could have been poetic that he'd been bound to the same stagnant crawl. His attempt to peel away from her company had thrown him off the little balance he maintained. It was easier to hide when he'd bound to a single seat, or held up by a bar counter, or when he hid his lack of control by romanticizing it through outlandish movements down the strip until the car was brought to them. The wave of his arms, the thrash of theatrics for every expression, were easy to brush off when he carried that notorious grin. The vacancy of his gaze was hidden when the rest of his face played along. "It's late. I'm tired. I just need to get home. I want to sleep in my own bed— I haven't in months because of filming," He said, running through excuses used before or experimented with for the first time. His crash at the bottom of the steps pinned him down as his surroundings throbbed with the pain he couldn't quite place. "It's not too far from here."

[feelslikemagix]

template by notoriousaesthetics.

FEELS LIKE MAGIC : a soft reboot

astrid sternberg • celene perrault • yavanna belaurin • maia cassano • andreas cardolan • setaria karthal • reuel káno • laurelin belaurin • morax luthor • vaezora valaerys • túrin ishtar • ellara elenrína

[oscarisaacss-wp]

GRAPHICS COLLECTION — GIF BANNER for Lover to Lover, a Blaise Zabini fic.

“Blaise Zabini had called her a liar. What the fuck was that all about?”

— excerpt from Lover to Lover, the Synopsis

i. pinterest ii. spotify

[grlinterrupt]

tracy and astrid are two dumb bitches telling each other “exactly,”

[cass1x1]

✴ (Zara/Astrid)

For a small town, they certainly held a fair number of parties. Astrid wasn't particularly fond of parties, but literally everyone was going, and they were having a hard time finding an excuse not to. And, well, Zara said she wanted to see everyone there. Even if she didn't say it directly to Astrid, they figured, it might be nice to show their face. Zara might like that. Or maybe not. She didn't know.

People were cutting a little loose-er than normal, too. Probably because the Darkness that had been covering the parks had finally moved on, and the party had been scheduled for the park so it was going better than expected. People were dancing and sniffing those rocks, the scent of which gave quite a buzz. Everyone was happy and a little bit manic.

The person who seemed most manic, unsurprisingly, was Zara. She was always at the heart of things in town, both literally with her hands-on approach to news reporting, but also in terms of reflecting the energy of the people around her. She was, by the time Astrid arrived at the party, standing on a table, giving a speech about the character of the town.

The speech was wrapping up, and Astrid only caught a bit about how we all love each other and care about one another and blah blah blah, before cheers erupted. Some pretty girl that Astrid tried not to recognize as an intern for the town newspaper hopped up onto the table and--

Based on the whoops behind her, Astrid could guess what happened next. They didn't want to watch. Not because they were jealous, but because they didn't like watching PDA. That was definitely a thing they always felt about everyone. The weird sinking feeling was just discomfort. Instead, she headed to the area with the rock-sniffers, figuring she'd need help to match the energy of everyone else around her.

[gcldenhcurs]

OPEN TO: male muse 25-32

MUSE: astrid bardot, twenty-five. alva bratt

SONG: is it over now? (taylor's version) (from the vault) by taylor swift

"Do you search in every model's bed for somethin' greater than me, baby?"

[writers-potion]

Making Fight Scenes Sound Nicer

Euphonics is all about how the words "feel". By incorporating certain sounds, you can influence the mood of the passage.

Mood: Foreboding

use words with 'ow', 'oh', 'ou', 'oo' sonds. These are good for building tension before the fight.

moor, growl, slow, wound, soon, show, show, grow, tow, loom, howl, cower, mound.

Mood: Spooky

use words with 's' sounds, combined with an 'i' sound.

hiss, sizzle, crisp, sister, whisper, sinister, glisten, stick.

Mood: Acute Fear

use word with 'ee/ea' sounds, with a few 's' sounds.

squeal, scream, squeeze, creak, steal, fear, clear, sheer, stream

Mood: Fighting Action

use short words iwth 't', 'p' and 'k' sounds.

cut, block, top, shoot, tackle, trick, kick, grip, grab, grope, punch, drop, pound, poke, cop, chop.

Mood: Speed

use short words with 'r' sounds

run, race, riot, rage, red, roll, rip, hurry, thrust, scurry, ring, crack

Mood: Trouble

use words with 'tr' sounds to signal trouble

trouble, trap, trip, trough, treat, trick, treasure, atroscious, attract, petrol, trance, try, traitor

Mood: Macho Power

If you wan to emphasize the fighters' masculinity, use 'p' sounds.

pole, power, police, cop, pry, pile, post, prong, push, pass, punch, crop, crap, trap, pack, point, part

Mood: Punishment

If your fight involves an element of punishment use 'str' sounds

strict, astride, strike, stripe, stray, strident, stroke, strip, instruct, castrate strive

Mood: Defeat

use 'd' sonds

despari, depressed, dump, dig, dank, damp, darkness, drag, ditch, drop, dead, deep, dark, dull

Mood: Victory

use 'j' and 'ch' sounds

joy, cheer, jubilant, jeer, chuck, chariot, choose, chip, jest, jamboree, jig, jazz, jive, rejoice, rejoin

In print, the effectiveness of such euphonics will be very subtle, and it can only serve as an embellishment to what you already have.

Don't use or replace words for the sake of achieving euphonic effects, but this can be something to keep in mind when you are editing your draft!

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[wellsygrahams-a]

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@piperbellinger