trespassing for fun

Long time no (proper) Gwenhwyvar! So here’s a post-game Gwen, alive and well. ^u^

maesisamhughesed.tumblr.com
aliens and the ocean

So Aliens find out about we finding the dead body of an unknown monster of an animal, that came from teh ocean. and just wonderings…

“how are you okay with not knowing what’s there”

“Alot of people aren’t.”

“How can you dare touch the ocean”

“Well it started as a need for trade but now it’s just fun”

“TRESPASSING IN THE TERRITORY OF WHO KNOWS WHAT IS FUN?”

“uh… yeah? in fact, i was planning on heading to the beach this weekend. you should join me”

“NO THANK YOU NEVER IN A MILLION CYCLES OF YOUR PLANET AROUND THE SUN”

“you mean years?”

“YES NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS.”

Oh, Hello on Broadway Sentence Starters

  • “Oh, hello.”
  • “Charmed I’m sure, I’m _____.”
  • “Theater is the hot, new thing right now.”
  • “We’re filming this as a special for Investigation Discovery.”
  • “But we like to joke that ____ is the master of fun.”
  • “How can I describe the kind of vibe we give off?”
  • “You know when you walk by a travel agency, and you’re like, ‘what?’”
  • “I’m the type of man you would catch at a party going through the coats.”
  • “Each death learning from and improving upon the death before it.”
  • “I am a Tony Award viewing actor.”
  • “It’s a cold wrap, a warm Sierra Mist.”
  • “He wouldn’t let me sulk for one single second.”
  • “We started doing heroin that afternoon.”
  • “It was inspired by, and directly stolen from.”
  • “Who’s that? Who’s that guy?”
  • “When a famous person dies, blame the year, and make it about you.”
  • “We come out with bowler hats on. We take them off, we got two tuna sandwiches on our heads.”
  • “It was like— hey, shut the door— it was like…”
  • “Have you fucking tried dealing with the Shubert Organization?”
  • “They have everything at this place. Old props, old costumes, the cast of Newsies huddled over a flaming garbage can.”
  • “Which the city of New York informs us is a massive fire hazard.”
  • “Why he wore a dress to make a phone call, we will never know.”
  • “Perhaps you didn’t have time before the show to eat at Guy Fieri’s Great American Garbage Fire.”
  • “Her head ended up where?”
  • “That guy is sick as a dick!”
  • “Do you wanna know why? Do you wanna know why, ___? Because I could not afford Adobe Photoshop!”
  • “Alright, we’re having a nice time, so…”
  • “Oh waiter? I’ll have one more root beer, please.”
  • “Not in life, or in the play, ever put your nail in between my nail, in my fingie meat.”
  • “For real, don’t ever do that again. For real.”
  • “What are we? Two characters with different perspectives?”
  • “Twenty-five hundred dollars for a measly five-bedroom with office, crown molding, and fireplace?”
  • “___, is there a— fucking wait!”
  • “Are we on the same team?”
  • “Yeah! The ‘86 Mets.”
  • “Good news comes in thin envelopes.”
  • “Boy, that guy’s going back to Chinatown.”
  • “My father’s in a pitch black room drinking whiskey, and we are not allowed in there.”
  • “On one hand, I was sad my mother killed herself, but on the other hand, I was happy it was my birthday.”
  • “I’ll go banana bread on you, and it’ll be too dry to swallow!”
  • “You need to lose like, seven pounds.”
  • “I’m at Columbia University— as a trespasser.”
  • “Fun fact: I’m the only guy to get kicked out of a cult for being too into it.”
  • “Watch out, raccoons, they’ll steal your food, but next thing you know, they’ll steal your heart.”
  • “First off, we do not have the rights to Bill Joel’s ‘Movin’ Out.’“
  • “You’re God’s born loser, you know that?”
  • “No. No escape. Hey— no, no!”
  • “You know what? Our game show where contestants had to guess what you knew?”
  • “And the one time that guy guessed it, I lied.”
  • “The menu is like nineteen pages long, and even though it’s a diner, it has stuff like lobster on it.”
  • “Could I get a 1970′s coffee? So watery, and grey, and a gun next to it on the table.”
  • “And they don’t at all get a huge fucking tuna comeuppance.”
  • “Thank you for that measured compliment.”
  • “Did Jews not control the world of art?”
  • “When I realized card tricks were actually a trick, I said there must be no God.”
  • “the point is, we used to drink fish.”
  • “Well, we could be living in the subway tunnel if you hadn’t blown it with the mole people.”
  • “I hate to be the first to say it, but New York has changed.”
  • “The 1990′s! Mad About You, pesto sauce, O.J. Simpson breaks his 45-year no killing streak.”
  • “Could you imagine doing something so fucked up, there’s no more Toyota Camry?”
  • “But you’re Jewish and she’s a raccoon!”
  • “It’s just— I’ve never had money before, and I want some.”
  • “The baby is demonic!”
  • “I’m on the floor.”
  • “Could you get me a Ferraro Roche chocolate? Or a Lindt Lindor Truffle? My favorite flavor is blue.”
  • “I need you to go to Just Salad, at like, one P.M. when they’re at their busiest, and just get online and be like ‘now let’s see, how does this work?’“
  • “Will you go to the Magnolia Bakery as featured in the Sex and the City walking tour and just open fire?”
  • “Will you go to Long Island City, Queens? ‘Cause I won’t.”
  • “A look that can only be described as Pussy Safari.”
  • “It’s like, suddenly jewelry stores do have a bathroom I can use?”
  • “You got clam juiced, you white trash idiot.”
  • “Would you stop the Super Bowl halfway through to do a bunch of bullshit?”
  • “You wanted to hear how fucked up I am inside?”
  • “Nobody’ll say it, but Shakespeare is a fucking hack, alright?”
  • “Have we owned this the entire time?”
  • “I’m so sorry that I lied to you about a life changing voice-over opportunity, and then bullied you for forty years.”
  • “I’m so sorry that I really didn’t do anything wrong.”
  • “Oh no, that’s okay, waiter. I bring my own chair places.”
  • “Most of those teens only bought the book because in it, I explained how to make a bomb.”
  • “Oh waiter? I’ll have— well, I’ll have two root beers, please.”
5

i did a thing for thyllan

kurosmind’s lovely Inquisitor Fael, sharing an intimate morning with his beloved Dorian, before their lives force them apart again…

Thank you for commissioning me! ♡

A (Big) Slice Of Happiness

The always lovely and super talented @kawereen requested Cullen and Demetra fighting over a slice of cake. My hand slipped, I wrote this thing (beware: fluff everywhere!), but I hope you like it anyway!

Plus, let me wish you all my dear followers and friends, a great HAPPY EASTER!

Cullen Rutherford X Demetra Trevelyan



“Hands off!”
She jolted, hearing his strong command, her fork falling on the floor. His chuckle made her blush and infuriate “You’re not nice scaring me in that way!”
“Oh,” he grinned, leaning against their kitchen’s wall “instead you are so nice trying to steal that last piece of cake.”
“I wasn’t stealing.” she replied, a bit offended, ready to knee and pick the fork up.
“Wait,” he said doing that for her “let me help you.”
She smiled, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer “You’re so kind. The kindest husband. And you need a bath!” she said, wincing, after her quick peck on his sweat cheek. He laughed again “Well, the new horses arrived this morning and Branson was more than happy to have me there to help.”
“And returning home you stopped to help the workers at the Shelter.” she smiled, noting a slight track of calcimine between his hair. Cullen nodded “The works are proceeding quicker than expected. I think that in four – five months we’ll be ready to open the Templars Shelter. Cassandra’ll be relieved, I think.”
“Yes,” Demetra agreed, remembering her friend’s words in her last missive “now that the word got around and that Leliana is promoting the permanent abolition of lyrium in their ranks, I’m not surprised that so many Templars want to try and change their life.”
“I think Cassandra and her new Seekers are doing well, travelling around and spreading the news.”
Their thoughts flew to the Seeker, busy in offering Templars a new way to live, a new method to cover their role without the lyrium, and training the one who were willing to give it a try in techniques very similar to the Seekers’ ones.
With the approval of Leliana –  the Divine Victoria, Demetra reminded to herself – Cassandra was ready to help Cullen in giving the Templar Order a chance in the new world.
“Anyway,” her husband voice interrupted her reflections “we still have a couple of things to settle down before opening it, right?”
She followed his tender glare, nodding again.
“Where’s Grace?”he asked, looking around. She couldn’t hold back her smirk. She was actually surprised he didn’t ask earlier. Since their first daughter was born, the former Inquisitor loved joking that now she was at the third place in his husband’s list of most loved ones, after Grace and his Mabari. Maybe the fourth, after his chessboard. Of course, Cullen protested everytime, usually sat in his favorite armchair, with Grace on his lap and Inquisitor barking happily at his feet. It suited him, that serene, domestic atmosphere, as she had always suspected when her dream to share a life together had to be put aside for facing all the battles they did.
“Grace is in the garden, with Inquisitor of course.” Demetra answered, her voice playful “I fear you’re not his favorite member of this family anymore.” He looked beyond her shoulder, probably catching a glimpes of dark red curls bouncing between the flowers.
“Yes, well,” he chuckled, shaking his head “I can’t blame him. She’s lovely. As her mother.”
“Oh, stop it, you sweet talker.” she tutted at him. Noting he had taken the plate with the last piece of cake which Mia sent them, she quickly moved to grab it back. With a half smile, half huff, Cullen kept the plate out of her reach. She looked at him in disbelief. Cullen’s love for cakes and butter cookies was well known everywhere, but this didn’t give him the right to not share with her!
“Cullen, that’s my slice!”

Keep reading

3

Cullen: You there! You’re to dodge, not catch. If that ball were a fireball, you’d be dead.
Mabari: (Barks.)

dartheames  asked:

For DWC - ♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort :))))c

Sorry for the delay @dartheames in fulfilling this prompt (I know its ancient but I hope you like it anyway!). For @dadrunkwriting - have some post trespasser writing (clearly spoilers) which is basically just tooth rotting fluff! 

(This is my first little fic set post trespasser so was lots of fun to imagine and write!) 

Cullen x Annabel Trevelyan- SFW - fluff, romance, happily ever after

———–

Cuddling in a blanket fort

Mia had insisted she was inside somewhere, yet standing in the open country kitchen and scanning the humble living quarters Cullen finds them empty. A frown creases his forehead. Where in the name of the Maker had she gone now? It shouldn’t be so hard to find your wife, should it?

The frown turns into a light smile. His wife. Filling with warmth he continues the search and soon hears giggling from his nephew’s bedroom. It’s not the giggle of a child though. Ah. Approaching stealthy, he hovers in the door way to admire the scene before him.

Between two beds, blankets, cushions and bed linen from all over the house has been piled to create a make shift fort. Mia won’t be pleased but still he can’t help but give a chuckle as Annabel mildly tells Branson Jr. off for calling her ‘ma lady’.

Suddenly two heads poke out, lifting up the fabric roof to peer at him, before quickly darting back down with harsh whispers.

Prince, his faithful mabari, also finally notices his presence, and promptly jumps off a stripped bed to pad over with a lazily tail wag.

Kneeling to pet him Cullen strains to listen to the murmurs inside the fort, but despite his best efforts he can’t make out what’s being said. From nowhere both Annabel and Branson pop back up, throwing the blanket away to stand defiantly, brandishing wooden swords. He notes how the small boy mimic’s Annabel’s stance and puffs his chest out a little wider and the warmth already sitting in his chest blooms. She’s going to make a brilliant mother …

The thought however sends a jolt through him. Him. A father. Stubbornly he pushes the worry aside and stands as Annabel gives him an elaborate wink, one which he knows means he’s meant to ‘play along’.

“So, the Avvar have come to take the keep and you bring your furious war hound to do your dirty work?!” Her voice booms, taking on a hint of its leadership role, easily filling the room and demanding attention, despite the ridiculous nature of it all. His nephew’s rich brown eyes glimmer with excitement and Cullen can’t bear to crush their game so lets a smirk twitch his lip.

“Ay,” he nods, standing tall as if on full inspection. “The Avvar have as much right to these lands as you ma’ lady and we’ll claim them by force if we must.”

“You filthy Avvar scum!” The boy’s voice growls and Cullen is slightly taken back by the ferocity of it, he’s not sure his brother would be pleased to hear that tone.

“Sir Branson,” snaps Annabel. “Deploy the anti-war dog weapon.”

Cullen blinks and stares at her. The what? Before he knows it a rubber ball smacks him square in the chest, he gasps, one hand instinctively reaching for a sword which isn’t there. Prince begins to bark like mad, grabbing the ball on the bounce and running off with it, sliding into the wall on the wooden floor in his haste.

“He’s trained the mutt to steal our weaponry!” Annabel’s pitch is high in fake shock. “Sir Branson, retrieve our device at once or it may fall into the wrong hands!”

“Yes, Inquisitor!” The youth nods then swings his leg over the wall to climb, ungracefully, down the tower and rush after the hound. As he passes Cullen  however he stops to give him a sharp whack with the flat of his sword before laughing and speeding away.

“You’re teaching him bad habitats, again,” remarks Cullen, rubbing at the spot on his thigh which stings lightly.

She shrugs then smirks at him. “So, what if I am? The brave Avvar warlord going to break into my keep and teach me a lesson?” She arches an eyebrow and cocks her iron replacement hand on her hip.

Words abandon him and everything just stops. All he can think, as he stands opposite his wife is - Maker she’s bloody gorgeous. Hair wild without care, no makeup, bright eyes glittering at him and a snug top which reveals just the hint of a growing bump. Their bump.

She glows, radiating light, the same way she always did. It was something that he’d always felt was missing from his life. From him. Until he met her. She illuminated even his darkest, bleakest, corners, forcing the shadows away. Whats more, she accepted and embraced what she found lurking in those dark places. Accepting him, completely, for who he was. 

How did he deserve this? To have such a naturally beautiful woman, carrying his child, stood in his sisters loving home, on a warm spring afternoon, smirking at him in a dirty way. He feels himself stir in reply.

“That I am, lass,” he drops his voice, trying to mimic the rough Avvar accent as his smirk turns wicked and his golden eyes darken. Lurching forward he clears the walls with a swift bound and captures her. Wrapping his arms around her, he drags her lips towards his and devours her with a kiss. Its deep and pure, conveying all the feelings his words cannot, his mouth slowly savouring hers, his tongue-

“EWWW!!!” 

The child’s cry breaks their passionate moment. He pulls away, feeling a rush of heat spread up his neck as he looks to his nephew whose nose is wrinkled in disgust. The ball, is held loosely in the boy’s grip by his side, as he stares in gross disbelief at them, that is until Prince snatches the weapon. 

With a mouthful bark the hound play bows at the boy then bounds off, presumably to run outside where there is space for the great lummox to play without crashing into furnishings. “Hey!” Branson is quickly out the door to chase down the thief.

“You know, they’ll be no peace once this little one comes along, especially since its half Trevelyan,” chuckles Annabel stepping back slightly to nod down at her belly, her hand idly rubbing over it.

“I have peace now?” Cullen asks, then winches as she smacks his thigh where the sword strike had been. “Ow!” Chuckling he holds his hands out to her.

“Come here,” he smiles softly and coaxes her back to cuddle snugly against his chest. He kisses the top of her head and rests his chin in her hair, letting his contentment flow out in his smooth calm tone. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, my lady.”

—-

Thank you for reading, likes, comments and reblogs are all gratefully received <3

tfw u want to smooch the bf but forget u only have one arm left (it was supposed to last longer and have bull react but it’s nearly 3am here)

anonymous asked:

May I request ♔ for Olwyn x Cullen please? <3

♔ Wearing the others clothes.

It’s cold.

Olwyn’s brow furrows as she moves her arm along the sheets, fingers brushing out from a pile of furs to touch open air, cool and crisp. It’s tempting, to just curl back up in bed and fall back asleep, especially when her other arm aches with phantom pains that never quite go away.

But the empty spot where her husband sleeps is empty, which means Cullen’s already gotten up to feed the horses and check on the rest of the farm, and sleeping in won’t help anyone–and definitely won’t put breakfast on the table.

It almost makes her miss Skyhold, and a warm kitchen and apple tarts always at hand.

Almost.

It’s still dark when she pulls the furs away and fumbles around at the foot of the bed for her dress, where she’d placed it on the baseboard to dry the day before. It’s easy to slip into, as she blearily rolls up the sleeve on her left side so it doesn’t hang too low.

If she were more awake, she supposes, she would have noticed that the dress hangs a bit oddly, and ends just below her knees rather than her ankles, but all she can think about is getting to the elfroot salve in the cupboard to ease the soreness, and putting some water on to boil for tea.

She forgets, sometimes, that her left arm is gone. When she reaches to grab something with both hands, or tries to lace fingers with Cullen’s own and can almost feel it, tiny ghost-like imprints of memory that fool her into thinking one morning she’ll wake up and it will be there again.

Some mornings are better than others, when she awakens and finds that it’s still gone, and the only thing that remains is a stump and the look in Solas’ face when he’d apologized and taken it from her burned into the back of her mind like a brand.

As she bumps the edge of the table, and reaches to grab a pitcher with a hand that no longer exists, and watches the pieces shatter along the wooden floor, she thinks it might be one of the bad days.

She bites back a curse and blinks back frustrated tears as she bends down to clean up the mess.

She hates the bad days.

“Olwyn? I heard a crash and–are you alright?”

And she doesn’t want him to see her like this. Doesn’t want anyone to. A little too proud? Or just because it’s been ingrained in her for so long not to show weakness of any kind? To be a symbol, never-changing, unaffected by things like pain and sadness.

But it’s him, at least, kneeling beside her on the floor, looking over the tiny cuts along her fingertips and frowning. It’s Cullen, who knows that some days you just feel weak, no mater how strong you really are. Cullen, who never saw her as Inquisitor first and Olwyn second; who never made her feel like she had to be the former more than the latter at all times.

“I’ll get this,” Cullen assures her, grabbing up the last few pieces. “Stay still, I don’t want you stepping on anything I missed.”

Olwyn sighs, “That’s the second pitcher in three months.”

“Maybe we should stop leaving them on the edge of tables,” Cullen agrees, and he gives a small smile, “When I’m done, how about we find your dress?”

Olwyn blinks, and furrows her brow. “What do you mean…?” But Cullen is blushing now, avoiding eye contact as a flush spreads across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears and he clears his throat.

Well.

The dress she’s currently wearing is decidedly not her dress, it seems, but one of Cullen’s shirts instead.

It’s still endearing, each time she sees him get flustered like this. Like he’s seeing her for the first time, and is both enchanted and unsure if he’s quite earned the right to a happy ending.

It makes it easier, that look. Makes it easy to smile back, and decide that she’ll try her hardest to make it a good day instead, despite the odds.

“Well,” She grins, “That certainly does explain the draft.”

Wow I haven’t written Olwyn x Cullen in forever, especially not them after Trespasser. This was lots of fun! Thanks for the ask, anon! :)

What I expected from a CullenRomance wedding:

Awkward proposal

Divine Victoria officiating

WEDDINGPLANER!JOSIE

Batchlorette Party

Dorian, Leliana and Vivinne fighting over perfect weddingdress style

Dalish traiditions mingled in

Sneaky HOF cameos

CRYING BLACKWALL AT THE WEDDING

Dagna making the rings with little sending crystals in them

Presents/Wellwishes from Monarchs in Ferelden

Clan Lavellan Cameo

The Hangover!Batchlorparty plot in the background (aka Sidequest!Find Cullen!)

Varric holding speeches!

E V E R Y O N E  A T T E N D I N G

Romantic balcony scene repeat (that’s when the plot kicks in with Anchor and shit)

What I got from my Cullenmance Wedding

Awkward Proposal

Dalish traditions mingled in

A.. dog…?