#if anyone ever wants to do a lighthouse quilt! or anything feel free to use my little refs

[arsenicflame]

lighthouse painting quilt planning bc @humblexwanderer is a terrible, terrible influence <3

(less planning and more rambling every thought i have about this i am So Sorry. i am always like this)

i must preface this that ive never made a quilt before but i do sew and have the gay audacity to believe i can pull off all these hard seams with 0 experience

the plan here is to buy nothing except thread and maybe binding. im gonna steal the fabric from my works scrap bin so i will be a little limited on what colours i can get- half the reason im considering going through with this is i keep remembering theres practically a whole roll of fabric in the scrap bin that i could use for the back of the quilt, and thats basically all the extra encouragement i needed

here's my general plan (blocked colours arent supposed to be accurate, more representative of which areas will be the same fabric)

and a lineart plan- ill be printing this out and sticking it together to make my pattern

im calling this a quilt but really im /thinking/ its gonna be more of a blanket- the fabric ill be getting from work is upholstery weight wool, thicker than a coating, so itll weigh a lot as is and have some decent chonk without any batting.

im undecided on the size right now- not sure if i should go for a single blanket size or limit myself to a bed runner kind of size. i think the design is one that gets easier the bigger it is, and itll make a better blanket if you can wrap yourself in it, but i imagine most the time ill be displaying it on the bottom of my bed and id like to be able to appreciate the full design.

for reference: single bed size is: 150 x 200cm (60in x 79in) a bed runner is around 100cm x 50cm ( 40in x 20in ) these are approximations as id obviously be trying to keep the design in ratio. (the design is about twice as long as it is wide)

my quilting plan is probably to just follow the seams, maybe add a motif in so i get a nice design on the back? perhaps some light from the lighthouse (this'd also help quilt down those big patches in the middle!

ive got a few bits im totally undecided on: whether ill do a kind of afterquilt on the back on just leave it entirely plain, how im gonna do the fine details on the lighthouse (im thinking maybe a button for the top? or even just embroidery?) im also debating if it should have the white border like its framed or not- i think itd probably look nice, and would be great to have brown binding to represent the picture frame, but white is probably a really hard fabric to grab from work sooooo

if you read all this i am giving u a forehead kiss <3

#ill probably do a proper little write up when i solidify plans; this is more of my ideas and a sketch of a plan #i only started this to get an idea of how much fabric to grab (specifically how many different colours) #and then i started thinking about plans and couldnt stop so i needed to write my thoughts down #im sorry once again. you must suffer me #if anyone ever wants to do a lighthouse quilt! or anything feel free to use my little refs #i just skewed some images i found of the painting until they were square and worked from there

[theunemployedrogue]

Jealous [Anders/Fenris]

Insp. by this post: ‘we’ve been fucking with no strings attached but i just saw you go upstairs with another guy and im drunk and following you both upstairs to punch the shit out of him’.

Wrote this a while back and finally decided to post it, since I don’t think I will ever write a second part as I originally intended. I do feel I got it to a good enough stopping point that it stands on its own though, so enjoy!

Fandom: Dragon Age II Pairing: Anders/Fenris Rating: PG (no actual sex, but sexual references) Words: 1892 Content warnings: Alcohol use, jealousy/possessiveness

Fenris growled and downed another gulp of the swill Varric had placed before him earlier that eve. The dwarf had given it high praise as “the only thing actually worth paying for at The Hanged Man” (though he’d later revised his claim after Isabela reminded him that she had a room there). Perhaps Aggregio Pavali had simply ruined him for all other spirits, but Fenris honestly couldn’t tell it apart from the usual piss water they drank on card nights.

He was now three pints in and nearing physical illness, and the shit still wasn’t doing its job. Oh, he was drunk. Perhaps drunker than he’d ever been, but damned if that meant anything. He still hadn’t managed to tear his attention away from the mage. His mage. His mage leaned heavily against an attractive blond human by the hearth fire, face pink from laughter, his amber eyes wide with unmistakable desire for the man at his side.

The drink had all but reduced Fenris’ world to a dizzy swirl of colors and light, but Anders alone remained bright and in focus, like some mortal lighthouse mocking him across a rageful sea.

The mage had quietly slipped into The Hanged Man alone several hours ago. Per usual, he arrived well after their larger party had already split itself across several smaller groups, and he’d drifted to the table with Hawke, Merrill, and Aveline without a glance Fenris’ way.  

Fenris had not expected Anders to acknowledge his presence. They rarely greeted one another in public, and did not converse outside of necessary discussions related to battle strategy or healing when they were among friends. Well...there was also the odd argument here and there, but never did they exchange a single word in public that might suggest an intimacy existed between them.

No one had any idea they shared one another’s bed, and had for some time. It was never a spoken rule that the affair had to remain secret, but neither of them seemed to think it was something their friends needed to know. They went about it discreetly, finding time during the lulls between assignments to wander unnoticed between their individual abodes. Their nights together were spent playing the part of lovers who touched and spoke softly, all the animosity between them suspended for a few hours as they took comfort in one another’s embrace.

When it was over, they left their tender words and gentle kisses in the cooling wetness on the sheets, throwing a quilt over everything until their next rendezvous. Things did not change when they met in Hawke’s company the following day, and things did not change on the nights they joined their friends for cards and drinks at The Hanged Man. Nothing had changed at all… at least, that’s what Fenris had believed until that night.

“Maker. You’re shit-faced, aren’t you, elf?”

Fenris reluctantly pulled his gaze from Anders to look at Varric, who was watching him with a smug expression on his face.

“Not quite,” he lied, the obvious slur in his voice earning a chuckle from both his table companions.

“You’re terribly drunk, sweetheart,” Isabela, who was hardly a shining example of sobriety herself at that point, clucked.  “So very drunk. Not a wonder, seeing as you elves have hardly a pinch of fat on you.”

The word ‘pinch’ was followed by the feel of Isabela’s fingers squeezing the little fold of plushness just above his hip. She giggled and let her hand slip down to rest against his thigh when Fenris didn’t admonish her.

Her advances were not always unwelcome, especially when he was well into his cups, but her touches that night were not accompanied by the usual spike of lust.

The sight of Anders had stirred a heat within him when the mage first arrived, but that heat was all but extinguished now. All he could focus on was the throbbing of his skull as his drunken mind tried to beat down his rage at seeing another so close to claiming what was rightfully his. His mage. Anders belonged to him.

“I really think it’s time to throw in the towel tonight, Broody,” Varric said, his smooth tone indicating he was the one among them that wasn’t completely sloshed. “Trust me, you’ve had more than enough if you’re making goo-goo eyes at the mage and I’m worried you’re seriously considering it.”

“What?” Isabela scoffed, turning to look at Anders over her shoulder before whipping her head back around. “When was that? Did I miss that?”

“You’ve missed a lot tonight, Rivaini. The toilet for one, I hear…”

“Oh, bah! Aveline’s just got her smalls in a twist because she wished she’d thought of squatting in the washbin!”

Isabela seemed to forget Varric’s remark about Anders, promptly segueing into a tale of her bathroom venture with Aveline and Merrill earlier that night. Fenris was glad when her hand left his thigh to gesture dramatically above her head instead. Free to escape the conversation while his friends were distracted, he rose from the table and prepared to weave his way through the crowd to the exit.

Fenris took less than a dozen stumbling steps toward the door before he was forced to brace himself against the wall. To say he was ‘shit-faced’ was an understatement. The room was turning somersaults in his vision, and he was pretty sure the only reason he hadn’t already puked all over himself was because his stomach couldn’t decide which way was up or down.

He knew he would immediately regret it, but he looked behind him toward the blaze of the fire in the hearth, seeking the calm of Anders’ presence to ground him.

His body lurched forward suddenly, and Fenris swallowed the bile in his throat.

Anders was gone from his place by the fire -- though not far, he quickly realized. He caught sight of the mage’s shabby coat just as Anders disappeared up the stairs to the second floor with the handsome blond human.

Something crashed loud and wet against the tavern floor. Fenris heard angry curses at his back and felt the sting of where he’d slammed his hipbone against the table, but his body kept moving forward of its own accord. He was only vaguely aware of Hawke’s teasing call to him as he stormed up the stairs behind Anders. Everything was bloody loud and twisted and wrong side up, but somehow he knew the room Anders would choose and was there to block the door when the mage and his would-be lover arrived.

“Fenris?” Anders said, his voice puzzled.

“You mind, elf?” the other human barked. “You’re in the way.”

Fenris snarled and moved forward, hands balled into fists, but Anders pushed him back before he could strike the man. He relaxed briefly feeling Anders press against him, then wrapped a possessive arm around the mage’s middle.

“Hey, get off him you--!”

“Relax Will, he’s a friend… well, a friend of a friend. A...known acquaintance?”

“I am his lover,” Fenris growled, tightening his grip.

Will regarded Anders with a scandalized expression.

“Is he mad or just drunk out of his mind?”

“Clearly drunk by the smell of him,” Anders said with a forced chuckle. “Look...I think he may need a healer’s attention. I really hate to…”

“Anders, I’m not going to leave you alone with this delusional elf! Give him here, I’m tossing him out!”

“Just try, human.”

“Will, just go, please,” Anders pleaded weakly. “I know him, he isn’t going to hurt me. He’s sick, I need to help him. Please. I...I’m sorry.”

Will lingered for a few moments, glaring daggers at Fenris, before finally stalking off in the direction of the stairs. The moment he was out of sight, Fenris yanked open the door to the room behind them and pulled Anders inside. The room was meagerly furnished, containing only a small bed and bedside table where several candles burned.

Anders moved away from Fenris as the elf slammed and locked the door behind him. The mage’s calm demeanor vanished when Fenris tried to approach him.

“I can’t believe you!” Anders hissed. “You’d better thank the Maker you’re drunk, otherwise I’d have let him have at you like you damned deserve for a stunt like that!”

“I would have killed him.”

“Huh...yes, probably,” Anders muttered. “Dammit all, Fenris, you really know how to ruin a man’s night, you know that?”

“You are mine.”

“I’m what?” Anders spat, his lips curving upward in a sneer. “I don’t belong to you or anyone else, Fenris! I’m a person, not a piece of property. I can’t believe you of all people--”

Anders sighed in exasperation.

“Maker, and you’re being a bloody hypocrite on top of everything! I mean, it’s perfectly all right for you to fool around with Isabela, but I’m not allowed to sleep with other people? Is that how it is?”

“I’ve not slept with Isabela since the first time you and I--” The words ‘made love’ burned in the back of Fenris’ throat, but he swallowed them down at the last instant. “--went to bed together.”

“Oh, please. I see the way she’s always all over you! You’re not exactly pushing her off when she’s crawling half-naked into your lap.”

“That is as far as I’ve allowed her to go for the past several months,” Fenris said. “Yes, she still invites me to her bed, but I...I just can’t anymore.”

Anders narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, looking confused.

“You...really haven’t slept with her since you and I…?”

“No. I’ve not slept with anyone.”

“I...I actually haven’t been with anyone else either. This thing with Will… I honestly had no idea he was even interested in me until tonight. It’s just...when he started flirting with me I realized it’d been nearly three weeks since we last…”

“I wanted to see you,” Fenris said. “I just...assumed I visited far too often.”

“Fenris...seriously?” Anders smiled, some of his anger seeming to ebb. “You thought I had a problem with a gorgeous elf fucking me into oblivion every day of the week?”

“I...I don’t know…It’s just that I was...unnerved by the sort of feelings I was starting to develop for you, so I tried to stay away...”

“Maker,” Anders sighed, running a hand through his hair. “This probably isn’t a conversation we need to have while you’re drunk. Why don’t you sleep it off here and we’ll talk in the morning?”

Fenris let Anders to lead him to the bed and lay him down, but when he grabbed the front of Anders’ robes and attempted to tug him on top of him, he was quickly rejected.

“Want you,” Fenris said, his attempt at a seductive tone completely ruined by way his voice slurred.

“Fenris, you couldn’t get it up right now if you tried. Even if you could, the answer is no. We’re not doing anything while you’re like this.”

“Please. Anders, I--”

Fenris attempted to grab hold of Anders’ robes once more. He caught Anders’ muttered ‘sorry’ just as the mage pressed his fingers to his temple, sending a sleeping spell coursing through his body.

“In the morning, Fenris,” Anders said softly, gazing down at the snoozing elf.

Fenris wasn’t the only one who needed some time to think.

#fenders #fenris #anders #da2 #roguefic