funny you should ask @akselfredriksen-blog - Tumblr Blog

tavigundersen‌:

At his remark, Tavi pointed her index finger, in an errant gesture speaking a kind of agreement. That, and she had a habit of over-using her hands when speaking a lot of the time; some kind of habit she must have surely picked up from watching other European media outside of Norwegian. “Exactly,” The brunette echoed rather quietly, lips pursing after her one-word retort and the duo stepped further up in the line. What was the hold up? Christ. This cranky bitch had places to be. “Don’t even get me started on her — that Eurovision sell out… it’s like my bad mood can’t get any worse and then it does. I’m going to stop myself before your ears bleed or something from the negativity, and I think I should jump on that stress eating train rather early,” At that, she reached across to pick up one of the gingerbread men and shamelessly tear it open, speaking with almost sarcastic satisfaction as she did so. “Instant gratification for giving to charity. It’s like you said. Huh, that’d be an interesting Psychology thesis, dissecting our tiny monkey brains about the ethics of it all… but anyway— you want one?”

“Huh. You mind if I steal that line of criticism?” Aksel asked, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he dropped the jam jar back into the basket in his other hand and right onto his small pile of Kvikk Lunsjer. They might not have been anywhere on his mom’s list, but that was irrelevant. A guy's allowed to expect some compensation for running an errand. “I’m not sure my mom actually cares too much about whether or not some singer sells out but if I get passionate enough about it, maybe she’ll limit the replays this year out of respect for art or whatever.” He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, likely due to a reminder about some email he had to reply to or an assignment he needed to work on, and purposefully decided to ignore it in favor of continuing to shift absently as he waited in the slow-moving line. Grocery runs weren’t his primary choice in getting out of responsibility, but he guessed it was working well enough this time around. At least there was some entertainment, though when Aksel opened his mouth to try and respond on the subject of dubious ethics of some charitable acts, he quickly closed it. It was probably for the best; all he could come up with was an offhand ‘Yeah, it’s crazy’ anyway. “Definitely, thanks. It’s been a full hour and a half since I last ate. My stomach’s basically caving in on itself.”

#int #c: octavia #bit lame but whatev #but ay i'm back wussup

aglionby

#musings

STATS

Name: Aksel Strand Fredriksen Nickname: Greasy (THANKS adam) Age: Twenty-four Birthday: 14 February 1994 Zodiac: Aquarius Gender: Male Language(s): Norwegian and English (and he took German in high school, but he only remembers how to introduce himself and say he’s from Norway) Orientation: Heterosexual Species: Silver (Illusionist) Nationality: Norwegian-American (dual citizenship) Religion: Atheist, though raised Lutheran Health Disablities: N/A, though he did have a stutter until he was about 10 Distinguishing Marks: A couple moles on his face and a smattering of birthmarks over his arms Drugs: Yes, but none of the Hard Stuff(TM) Alcohol: Yes Smoke: Weed only Traits: + Intelligent + Loyal + Clear-headed + Hardworking - Aloof - Sarcastic - Disorganized - Self-indulgent

#kh: task #khtalk #about aksel

nickyrob

My mom sent a bundt…

#mirror

tavigundersen‌:

“It would appear not,” Tavi muttered, partially in incredulity but with an undeniable hint of disgust. Whilst she was a fan of the holidays, of the idea of hanging out with friends and family and sharing love — she was less of a fan of the commercial side of things. Why did major companies only care about presenting an ideal and making money off of it? It seemed so shallow. Although, maybe it wasn’t that deep and she was just cranky because she’d only had four hours of sleep and this one particular Silver that day… “And they’re selling gingerbread for charity at the registers? Well, at least there’s that.”

Aksel let out a low, quiet whistle as he eyed the burgeoning Christmas displays around them. He liked the holiday in general, but the reminders that he had a truly insane amount of money he had to spend for it was a little nauseating. “I’ve never read The Communist Manifesto, but I think I suddenly get what those guys were talking about,” he said and quirked a brow as he glanced over at her, his gaze catching on the gingerbread she pointed out. “Heeey — not too bad, not too bad. Almost makes up for Hanne Krogh’s premature wailing.” He made a mental note to grab a couple to make amends with his mom in the case that he royally messed up with the shopping list. “And what is the point of an act of charity if you can’t get a cookie out of it, huh?”

#int #c: octavia #issa BIG mood

rosehw-deactivated20190813

Everything Everything (2017) dir. Stella Meghie

#mirror #musings

promptsareus-blog1

Send me a “📱” and I will answer the following:

What was my muses 5 last sent texts yours?

What was my muses 5 last unsent texts yours.?

What was my muses last snapchat to yours?

What my muse saved your number as?

What contact photo my muse has set for yours?

What ringtone my muse has set for yours?

How many times my muse has called your this week?

How many calls has my muse missed from yours?

akselfredriksen-blog

+ nadia

#ask meme

tavigundersen‌:

She was just trying to get groceries. There was a distinct lack of instant noodles and tea leaves in her pantry, which needed restocking almost immediately or her life would fall apart and the world as she knew it would explode — or something like that without the melodrama. But as Octavia moved towards the register, she paused at the end of a line, curiosity but also morbid shock registering on her features as she looked for the speakers in question; tucking her hair behind her ears, she spoke, almost to no one in particular. “Is that Christmas music?”

The grocery list his mom sent him out with, which Aksel had almost dismissively stuffed into his coat pocket on his way out the door that morning, was wrinkled. The ink smudged in transit, leaving Aksel to make a handful of educated guesses based on the bits and pieces that remained. He weighed a jar of strawberry jam in his hand contemplatively as he stood in line, clicking his tongue as he returned to his internal debate of whether the word that ended with bærsyltetøy more likely started with blå or jord. He blinked in surprise at the voice of the woman in front of him before her words fully registered. Tilting his head, he listened closely and heard the familiar refrain of ‘En stjerne skinner i natt’ broadcast through the store. “Jeeesus,” he scoffed. “Can’t even give us a chance to breathe, can they?”

#int #c: tavi #// omg i love the vague fear in her eyes

#playlist

nickrobinsondaily

Nick Robinson behind the scenes of ‘Love, Simon’

#mirror

rpmememaker

Sentence Meme sentences

“Are you crazy?”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Are you even listening to yourself?”

“Are you sure they won’t find out?”

“Are you sure this is legal?”

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

"Are you threatening me?”

“Be mine.”

“Do I know you?”

“Do you love me?”

“Do you remember this?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Don’t go.”

“Don’t let me die”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Don’t make me beg.”

"Don’t you dare come near me!”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Explain yourself.”

“For you, I would _____”

“Give it back.”

“Give me another chance.”

“Have you ever even done this before?”

“How drunk are you right now?”

“I already regret this.”

“I am not wearing that.”

"I can’t believe you missed that.”

“I can’t do this anymore.”

“I can’t even look at you.”

“I could kill you!”

“I dare you.” or “I dare you to _____.”

“I didn’t do it.”“

"I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I don’t want to look at you right now.”

"I guess this is goodbye.”

"I hate you.”

“I have to go.”

“I just want to cuddle.”

“I know your secret.”

"I love you, but I really wish I didn’t.”

"I love you.”

“I miss you so very much.”

“I missed you.”

“I need a drink.”

“I need a hug.”

“I never really loved you.”

“I owe you.”

“I think I broke it.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you. ”

“I think I’m forgetting something.”

“I think it’s broken.”

"I trust you.”

“I want to be yours.”

“I want to try this thing I read in a book.”

"I want you. Naked. In my bed. Now.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”  ”This is really inappropriate.”

"I’m all for spicing thing’s up, but isn’t this a bit much?”

"I’m bad for you.”

"I’m dying.”

“I’m going to be sick.”

“I’m not speaking to you anymore.”

“I’m pregnant and it’s yours.”

“I’ve never heard that one before.”

“If you stay quiet, no one will know.”

"Is that my shirt?”

“It was me”

“It’s so beautiful.”

"It’s time to choose.”

"Just five more minutes.”

“Just go.”

“Just leave me alone.”

“Just let me die.”

“Just relax.”

“Just what did we do last night?”

“Kiss me you idiot.”

“Kiss me.”

“Make me.”

“Marry me?”

“My Parents don’t know”

“My parents know.”“

"Never again.”

“Nh, don’t be so rough!”

“No, that can’t be my baby.”

“No! You can’t die on me now!”

“Put it away.”

"Put your trousers on!”

“Put. The. Weapon. Down.”

“Shut up and listen.”

“Take responsibility.”

“That isn’t mine.”

“That looked easier on TV.”

“That sounds painful.”

“That was a bad plan.”

“That’s mine!”

"That’s the cheesiest pickup line I’ve ever heard.”

“They’re coming.”

"This seems familiar.”

“This stays between us.”

“Truth hurts, don’t it?”

“Want to hear a secret?”

“We need to talk.”

“We’re moving too fast.”

"Well that was unexpected.”

“What are we doing here?”

“What are you afraid of?”

“What are you touching?”

“What are you?”

“What do you need?”

“What happened to you?”

“What have I done this time?”

“What if someone catches us?”

"What sort of noise was that?”

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“What were you thinking?”

“Where are my clothes?”

“Where did you find this?”

“Where do you even find this sort of thing?”

"Where were you?”

“Who’d have guessed you could pull such a face?”

"Why are you wearing that?”

“Why yes, I am as think as you drunk I am.”

“You could have died!”

"You could have killed someone!”

“You coward.”

“You don’t need to be so gentle.”

"You drive me crazy!”

“You have ten minutes, so make it quick.”

"You lied to me!”

“You mean everything to me.”

“You owe me.”

“You. Come. Snuggle. NOW!”

“You’re all out of ____.”

“You’re an idiot.”

"You’re bad for me.”

"You’re dead to me.”

“You’re pregnant and It’s mine”

“You’re really good at this…”

"You’re so weird.”“

"You’re under arrest.”

#ask meme

@asher-bouchard 👻

Aksel hadn’t meant to wander far from the main festivities—and strictly speaking, he hadn’t completely removed himself from them by any means. In a corridor still filled with the distant echoes of the sounds of people talking and laughing, he found himself sitting on the ground with his back against the wall. A few partygoers would pass him once in awhile, drunk in more ways than one as they maybe stumbled or giggled. He got that, he understood it. Only a couple hours into the night and he already felt a little off-kilter in a way that was new to him; it wasn’t just the weed he had smoked beforehand, to calm the sporadic bouts of nerves, but it was a tingling sensation in his limbs. It was a sloshing feeling in his head. It was a light, floating awareness that came after he showed another silver the way he could rapidly turn his hand from invisible to visible with the blink of an eye and without hesitation or fear or anxiety. It was freeing.

But as someone who didn’t often find himself inundated with feelings, the price of an onslaught of new sensations and emotions was the need for a moment away from it. Plus—yeah, okay, so the weed might not have been the greatest idea, in retrospect, and a second or two chugging a glass of water in relative quiet did him some good on that front, as well. What he hadn’t expected was to choose the wrong moment to kick his leg out once it began cramping, tripping a lone passerby. He choked on the sip he took, nearly upending the cup entirely with his sudden movements. “Faen,” he swore, water dripping down his chin. “Shit, dude, I’m so sorry.” He stiltedly got to his feet, holding his cup far from his body, the cuff of his sleeve soaked. “Goes to show you shouldn’t act like some creep lurking in the shadows, huh?”

#int #c: asher #event: halloween #// aksdns sorry i fell asleep last night as soon as i got home #no need to match length #we can definitely keep it short #i'm just ~setting the scene~

oscar-piastri

#mirror

lovelygemmafontaine‌:

Gemma mentally scolded herself for having decided to play around with a drink as expensive and stain inducing as champagne. Maybe it was a better idea to stick to playing around with her powers in the bathtub. At least that way the mess would always be minimal and easy to clean up. It wasn’t until he started to recall what she was studying at Kingsholm University that she actually looked up to see the other’s face. Recognition flashed across her features as she did. Her cheeks began to heat up as she recollected their first encounter. “Oh. Yeah. That was me. Clearly I’m quite clumsy lately,” she grimaced. She almost wanted to say that she wasn’t usually this clumsy. That he just happened to meet her on the two occasions that she was making a right mess of things. “Aksel, right? I really am sorry about your costume. Champagne can stain pretty badly if it’s not cleaned up quickly. I’d wash it as quickly as possible, if I were you. My mother used to spend hours cleaning champagne stains off of tablecloths if she hadn’t washed them immediately after a party she hosted.” Her eyes then skimmed over his clothes, trying to decipher who he was dressed up as. “Who are you dressed up as, by the way?”

“Yeah, Aksel,” he confirmed, hesitant to say her name in return in fear that he might get it wrong. Emma? Gemma? Genevieve? he thought, almost-but-not-quite sheepish in his momentary lapse in memory. He was shit with names. “Think we can call it even with this,” Aksel said, plucking at the fabric above the wet stain for good measure. “I fuck up your fish, you stain my shirt. Valid retribution cancels out any need for an apology, by my judgment.” It wasn’t like he really went out of his way to put together a phenomenal costume, anyway. Composed entirely of things he already had in his closet—plus a coat borrowed from his dad—Aksel made a mostly lackluster Jack Torrance. “Oh, uh, Jack Nicholson’s character in The Shining. Misplaced my plastic ax somewhere, though,” he said, clicking his tongue. “Guess that’s what I get for leaving my shit around. Probably one of those life lessons my parents taught me that I should’ve listened to, huh?” His weed-slow brain caught up in processing her advice about cleaning up his shirt and he wrinkled his nose, sensing the spill grow sticky, and glanced over his shoulder in vague hope of a sink suddenly appearing to him. “Hey, do you know where the closest bathroom is? Your mom’s actually inspired me to be proactive with this.”

#int #c: gemma #event: halloween

lovelygemmafontaine‌:

Location: Annual Silver Halloween Gala

Time: 10 pm

While parties could be fun, whenever the term Gala was used in the title they were never quite as fun. Having been dragged by her parents to attend anyway, she’d found a seat with a drink in hand. Out of boredom, she’d started to play with the content of her glass. Her eyes turned the telltale silver that denoted any Silver’s use of power. Momentarily distracted by something behind her, the small amount of champagne she’d been playing around with splashed over someone’s costume. With a gasp, her gaze dropped to their costume. Getting up, she scrambled around for napkins. “I’m so sorry! Oh my gosh! I wasn’t paying attention.” She desperately attempted to clear up the mess she’d made. “Merde,” she muttered under her breath. “Je dois arrêter d'être un tel clutz!”

There was a part of Aksel that was nagging at him for even showing up, a vague sense of guilt clawing at the back of his mind. He was an adult, he reminded himself; he would be a quarter of a century old come February, even. He didn’t have to feel bad about holding some things back from his parents. And showing up at some party at the Institute was nothing. It was impossible to think he would actually be in danger there, not when surrounded by people who held such power, but yet the faint woozy nauseousness remained as a conscience-stricken symptom. God, he needed a drink or something. What he didn’t expect was for one to then be inadvertently flung at him. He took a step back in surprise, looking down to assess the damage. “Faen, of-fucking-course,” Aksel swore, before getting a glance at the perpetrator. He blinked in shock. “Oh, shit. Hey.” There was an awkward beat, her next words indecipherable to him. “It’s fine.” He held his wet shirt away from his skin with a small grimace, his brain slowly loading up the memory her face triggered. “Uh... damn. Zoology, right? Or, ah, wait — no. Marine Biology? You had those little broken shark guys.”