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haysprite · 1 year

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do you have any jeff hcs?

YES ! I love Jeff so much, he's my FAVORITE original survivor (Jill and Bill being my main favs), so I have PLENTY! He means a lot to me as a character as well, so I've put a lot of thought into him and his story alongside The Legion. Once again, a lot of these are my personal interpretation of Jeff's (and Legion's) stories, so just keep that in mind! I'm just grateful I have a good chunk of lore to work with here unlike Legion 🙏

• He didn’t have that many friends during high school, he mostly kept to himself and did his best in his classes. When he lived in Ormond, though, he did interact with Joey, Julie, and Susie a little bit, mainly Joey since they were in a lot of the same classes. He enjoyed talking to Joey every so often, who also tended to stop by the store he worked at to rent movies to watch with The Legion. I also feel like he barely knew Frank, who he immediately did not like all that much

• When not at work or school, he’d typically lock himself in his room and mess around on his guitar, which he picked up rather quickly, both learning songs he enjoyed as well as making his own

• Most of his art at first was just rough sketches and doodles of people (from either school or customers at the store he worked at) and objects he’d find laying around at first, though he started to experiment a lot with cartoonifying them and drawing random shit from his mind as well

• He had a LOT of fun working on the Legion’s mural, spending as long as he needed to make it as perfect as he could. He was super surprised that anybody would wanna commission him, but super grateful since it felt like a huge stepping stone for him

• He has a fascination with Norse mythology, and used to bury his nose in books when he was much younger. A lot of this shows up in his artwork, especially later in life when he started revisiting this interest of his

• Though he was grateful to not have to listen to his parents' constant fighting after moving away with his mom, he absolutely hated how lonely he felt, having nobody at school to confide in. Even when he’d focus on his art and music, he’d struggle to find as much joy in it as he used to, though he continued to work on them since he didn’t wanna give up on the main sources of happiness in his life

• When on the road with his bandmates, he felt nothing but free, having finally escaped the silent hell that was high school and embracing the exciting music filled life he knew he had ahead of him

• Whenever they were stopped to perform one of their shows, Jeff would find something or something to draw or paint to remember the area by, like a memento, so he’d always have that memory

• As rough as the fight he got into was, he didn’t necessarily regret it due to having helped somebody out instead of just standing by and watching them get hurt. The pain is still hard as hell on him some days, and he doesn’t particularly enjoy the scar he was left with, but he refuses to look back at his life with regret.

• Though he missed his band mates and being on the road, he absolutely loved going to art school. He made new friends and found his true passion in his artwork, finding the happiness he had been looking forward to for so long.

• He listens to a lot of heavy metal when he works on his art, finding that it gives him a lot of motivation and drive to keep creating, even when he’s a bit frustrated with his current project

• He LOVES his dog so damn much! He’s such a dog person, and always dreamed of having one, he just never had the opportunity to do so until he finally settled down. That dog was his best friend, and kept him company whenever he was working at home

• Losing his dad was pretty rough on him. He hadn’t seen him since he moved away from Ormond, and did have some regrets about not visiting him a lot. Finding that guitar meant a lot to him, and he found himself confiding in music a lot more than he had in a while

• He had heard something about the body found at the old lodge and the four teens going missing after he had moved, but he knew very little about it other than knowing Joey and the others were gone. He was a bit upset and confused by this, especially since he had known them, though he ended up forgetting about it after a while, only being reminded after he returned to Ormond

• He defo owns a motorcycle, which he loves riding around whenever he’s feeling overly stressed, the feeling of the cold wind as he rides around calming him down

• He designed a good majority of his tattoos, which he spent forever designing since he wanted them to be perfect before getting them permanently drawn onto him

• Absolutely HATES listening to people fight, since it reminds him a lot of his parents. He tends to freeze up before going into fight or flight mode when he hears or sees a fight break down

• Most of his wardrobe is made up of band shirts and jackets, a lot of which he collected throughout his time out on the road. They all mean something to him, cherishing each and every one, and he also loves how comfortable they are. Some of the shirts from his band were ones he even designed himself

• Hates the idea of cutting his hair and shaving his beard, since he both loves the way they feel, and also feels like they’re what makes him *him*

• Autism :) His special interests are heavy metal, art, and Norse mythology (listen,,, he’s my fav original survivor, let me have this lmfao)

• He enjoys inspirational quotes a lot, and has a bunch taped around his room/house, just so that they’d be there whenever he needed to look at em

• He’s just a very chill guy to be around, and will always be there for anybody that needs him. He always has great words of wisdom to share, and gives great hugs as well

• He’s not much of a show off, but he absolutely loves talking about his art and the thought and meaning he’s put behind every piece of his

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight jeff #dbd #dbd darkness among us #dbd jeff #dbd jeff johansen #dbd headcanons #dbd jeff headcanons #jeff johansen dbd #jeff johansen #jeff johansen headcanons #darkness among us

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margridarnauds · 1 year

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What would you recommend to an aspiring Celticist for a tattoo? My sister wants to get matching Celtic tattoos, and while I’ve started to study Celtic mythology, I’m definitely no expert lol. I know a lot of symbols you’d find on the internet are bullshit, and a lot of the real ones have a ton of baggage associated with them (literally the first thing I told my sis when she brought this up was that we had to be careful & do our research when picking these out bcs the nazis looove that shit). But what would you recommend? Is there anything we should definitely steer clear of? Thanks!!

I'm going to either be really helpful or really non-helpful: A lot of this will depend on you and your sister.

Like, for me, when I've thought of Celtic-inspired tattoos, they're always things that are very personal to me. Like, for example, Bres' name in Ogham on my wrist, since it's always been him and me surviving this together, the Children of Lir, because that's a personal good luck symbol (yes, the most notoriously UNLUCKY story in the Mythological Cycle -- I have a Children of Lir necklace that I wore when I was giving my Capstone Presentation in my undergrad, and I've worn it to every talk I've ever given, even to my interview with my current program), an image of an owl (for Blodeuedd) or something like the Pictish Beast, since I love marine animals and waterhorses in the folkloric tradition. So, I'd look at what appeals to you and your sister, your relationship, shared interests, etc.

There's only one Celtic image that's formally been designated as being a potential white supremacist symbol by the anti-defamation league, and that is the Celtic Cross.

This is the image that most white supremacists will use, you'll notice that it has very short ends.

This is the more traditional Celtic cross -- you'll see these in just about every single tourist shop in Ireland, as well as in cemeteries. I'd be lying if I said that I don't still feel a bit of a jolt whenever I see the regular one in a tattoo; it shouldn't, because it's an image that is emblematic of Irishness and Irish heritage. And I don't feel that way about, say, a necklace, but a tattoo is much more different to me. It's permanent, it's...intimate. So I would suggest staying away from either version, even though the one at the bottom is NOT the one that has been appropriated by white supremacists.

I also tend to be distrustful of people who have like....mixed Celtic and Nordic symbols. Like, the Vikings did settle in Ireland, some Irish words are based in Norse terms, Cork, Dublin, and Waterford are Viking cities originally, there are a lot of folktales in common between Ireland and Norway, there are historic links there. That being said, anyone who treats them as being interchangeable (the term "Nordic-Celtic" makes me shudder whenever I see it in an organization's name and, no, I do not give a single fuck if you say that you aren't THAT kind of Nordic Celtic) raises my fight or flight response. Like, they're both part of this implicit idea of White Warrior Male Culture. But that's not a problem unless you're getting multiple tattoos. (Tbh, if I see a random Celtic knot on someone...I might think 'white supremacist' or I might think 'Irish American', it depends on everything else.)

...also a Celtic knot world tree symbol. Not because they're white supremacist, but because it isn't really based strongly in the Irish tradition.

Quite a few people in the field will get ogham tattoos, especially in Modern or Old Irish, possibly using a word or phrase that's important to them. One friend of mine has one that is a phrase that is related to their health problems and reflects their fortitude. You might get an image based on a particular story (I might actually choose the Children of Lir, just because, everything else about it aside...it does contain a really strong sibling relationship.)

Basically: Why do you want a Celtic-inspired tattoo (from any of the various Celtic cultures?) What are you interested in? What speaks to you as people?

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reyesmarconi · 9 months

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* LOCATION SERIES: THOR’S RESIDENCES.

as the god of clouds, thor is scarcely at home and instead, he’s always out and about either seeking adventure or on call for his skillset by gods and worshippers alike. this being said, he has a number of established homes both in asgard and in midgard that he frequents and could be found at whenever necessary.

ASGARD.

in the lore, thor is ascribed three dwellings – þrúðheimr / thrudheim, or the world of might and strength, which is mentioned as his realm or kingdom (grímnismál, 4), bilskirnir, or lightning-crack, which is specified to be the name of his hall or mansion (also mentioned in grímnismál), and Þrúðvangr / thrudvang, or power-field, which could be interpreted as a different name for thrudheim, yet i chose to view as just a different location within the realm (pictured above).

as always with norse myth, not much is mentioned about any of these places. thus i choose to take some creative freedoms with their descriptions and specifications. however, according to the norse myths by heilan yvette grimes, thor was born actually in midgard/verland (the land of men) with his mother jord (noteworthy for being the personification of the earth, and a jotunn). he was quick to grow and soon jord realized she could not manage him. at just a few months old he was able to lift and kick off the ten loads of bearskin piled on his cradle to keep him warm, a worthy feat for a grown man and inimaginable for an infant. all around, he apparently got on her nerves a lot (according to etter robert james, he was all around a handful, throwing massive and destructive fits, pulling at his parents hair and ears and being a little shit all the time, basically), so she sent him to the giants vingnir and hlora to be raised as their foster son in jotunheim, the reason why sometimes thor is referred to as vingthor and hlorridi.

one small detour: in the endnotes to his translation of the völsungasaga, jesse l. byock explains: “fosterage was a norse custom of having a child raised in another household in order to extend kinship bonds or to form political alliances”. since we have to assume that the giant-asgardian conflict was still alive and well while thor was growing up, it’s good to keep this in mind for later reference – maybe not for this post, but in general.

thrudheim.

upon his return to asgard, and after killing a rock giant that threatened the aesir, thor was rewarded with some lands upon which he built a estate, and that estate was called thrudheim. in stanza 4 of grímnismál it is described as “a land [that] is holy, which i see situated near the aesir and elves”. not much else is stated about the kingdom. some believe that in the afterlife worshippers of thor may end up in it, but unlike what you may think, not many of these worshippers are warriors. those tend to go to valhalla (the hall of odin) or folkvang (the hall of freya). instead, thor’s hall tends to receive the common folk, peasants, farmers and workers of the land, and only a certain type of those who die in battle (primarily the “thralls”, as in the servants and slaves, as opposed to the noble warriors, who will go to odin’s hall). this much is mentioned in hárbarðsljóð, where odin (disguised as a ferryman) openly mocks thor with this fact during a verbal spat.

so, knowing the population it will have, we can guess that the kingdom counts with many of the amenities of a large, tightly packed farming city. i’d also envision it surrounded by farms and crop fields, specially wheat fields considering that sif, thor’s wife and an earth goddess, would be living with him. it’s these fields what i would call thrudvang and what would give thrudheim the appearance of being washed in gold – on top of, of course, the gleaming strikes of lightning that would be frequently seen in the cloudy skies. it’s likely the kingdom plays a big role in asgard as a hub for agriculture and livestock farming – i.e much of the food (and some of the mead) the gods eat and drink comes from thrudheim. the harvests would be always bountiful and perfect, thanks to the kind weather and generous soil endowed to the realm by thor and sif respectively. there would be crops and flora of all kinds, as it’s a very lush place, but it must be mentioned particularly the presence of oak forests due to their significance in thor’s worship, as well as other plants and produce: the ash, the hazel, the birch, the rowan (also due to sif), the thistle, garlic, onion, houseleek, leek, vervain, burdock, hawthorn, the blackthorn, bramble, holly, nettle, and the rose, all of which have special properties and meaning in the cult of thor. (may be topic for a different post)

bilskirnir.

the massive hall was built for thor also around the same time as thrudheim was established as his estate. grimnismál, stanza 24, has odin reveal the following vision as he catalogs the dwellings of the gods: “five hundred rooms and forty / there are, i think, under the arches of bilskírnir / of those halls which i know to be roofed / my son’s is the biggest.” in gylfaginning, when he introduces thor, snorri has hár say that thor has a kingdom and a hall called bilskírnir with 540 rooms, which is the greatest of buildings, equal only to the one in valhalla. in skáldskaparmál snorri says that “owner of Bilskírnir” is a valid thor kenning, and in fact “prince of bilskirnir” is attested in the skaldic corpus. the meaning of the name is unclear, but it seems to be either “suddenly illuminated (by lightning)” or “everlasting.” according to heilan yvette grimes, in bilskirnir, thor’s fallen worshippers “guaffed mead and banqueted on enormous meals, and practiced their warrior skills in preparation for the last fateful battle.” in regards to appearance grimes also noted that the outside of bilskirnir was studded with shields and glowed red in contrast with the inside which was a gleaming purple.

it’s a gigantic “mansion”, but more than that, it’s tall enough to reach the skies, as apparently thor frequently shoots lightnings from the top floor. it’s also here specifically where he’s said to live with his wife and children.

MIDGARD.

palafito in ologá, venezuela.

ologá, in contrast to the realm of thrudheim, is a tiny settlement where less than 50 families reside in stilt houses, or palafitos, which are houses raised on piles over the surface of the soil or bodies of water. it’s located south of maracaibo, 1m over the water level, and it’s a community of fishermen. it’s sustained mainly by said fishing but also by tourism, as it’s from its palafitos that the world-famous catatumbo lightning can be comfortably seen and photographed. (you can click in their names for some nice galleries featuring catatumbo and ologá)

thor feels a natural connection to the place, given its peculiar atmospheric conditions which make it so predisposed to thunderstorm activity and lightning (which occurs during 140 to 160 nights a year, 10 hours per day and up to 280 times per hour). he has a natural pull to it, drawing special strength from the perpetual storm, which sent him to the small town sometime around the mid 50s and made him build his own stilt house there, keeping in mind his size and height, something that quickly made him the object of curiosity from the locals. he made his most used human persona, dario belmonte, be born here, and he became a very active figure in the town as a fisherman, builder, and healer and all around friend to everybody. it got to the point that eventually he pretty much confessed (more or less) his status as a god to the entire town, as there was no other way to explain his lack of aging and magical abilities. to this day, they continue to keep his secret, and he visits them sporadically every few years to make sure they’re doing well.

his palafito is not more lavish than any of the other houses in the settlement and it’s made from the same materials. it’s a two room house and anyone else is free to use it whenever he isn’t here – he usually leaves it to his neighbors so they can rent it to tourists.

in his post-ragnarok verse thor, who was meant to die after his battle with the midgard serpent, ends up coming back to “life” in the depths of the maracaibo lake during one of the loudest thunderstorms the townsfolk had ever witnessed. he’s found floating unconscious by a couple fishermen in the morning and taken to the house of one of the older citizens, who recognizes him. he’s nursed back to health and it’s from this point onwards that thor begins his arc exploring what is left of midgard.

farm in sweet grass county, montana.

located in the outskirts of big timber, montana, thor counts with a 4 bedroom farmhouse with a barn and 4 horse stalls + heated tack shed. next to the house sits a metal shop with concrete floor and overhead door with electricity throughout. the barn and the arena are surrounded by corrals. 40 acres surrounding the house comprise the perimeter, cross fenced as needed. there are 4 wells, one in each of the 120 acre parcels.

thor established this farm in 1995, and lived in it almost permanently between march of that same year and november of 2007. he didn’t live alone, however; he invited his brother tyr – who was then living in kentucky – to live with him so they could be close to one another. almost simultaneously thor made tyr the part owner of the estate. in the farm they keep up to four horses, a dozen of chickens and six goats (which he keeps for milk), and a variety of crops cycled in and out depending on the season (carrots, beets, potatoes, green peas, sweet peas, broccoli, corn, and more). they also have two dogs, two huskies by the names brynjar and einar that freely roam the property, as well as tyr’s three cats.

after 2007, thor still technically continues to live there, but he travels more frequently.

PHOTO CREDITS. 1 / 2 / 3 / 4.

#thor.#locations.

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

Text

FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family

Word Count: 1804

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury

Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson

A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!

Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.

But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.

“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”

The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”

You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.

His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”

You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”

“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

*************************

Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.

“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”

You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.

“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”

“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”

You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”

“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.

“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-”

“Y/N! You’re back!”

You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”

She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”

“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”

“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.

“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”

“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”

You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.

“You’re back early.”

“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”

He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”

You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”

“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”

“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”

You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”

He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?”

“I’m just sayin’!”

“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”

His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”

“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”

“Is that why you came back late?”

Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot. “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”

Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”

“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”

You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.

What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?

You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.

With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading @bibliophilewednesday

#cjswriting #fatws series oneshots #falcon and the winter soldier series oneshots #fatws series oneshot 2 #fatws series #the beginning of a family one shot #steve rogers x reader #kinda #💛🧭#❤🐦💙🦾⏪

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dr-lokidottir · 3 years

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HEY!! You seem cool! :D I'm just starting out getting to the norse gods and figuring out who I am without christianity. Did looking at all the different information ever feel daunting to you? Ten people say one thing, ten other people say something completely different. It's a little overwhelming, to be honest.

Hi Nonnie! I hope you are excellent.

I used to be an Evangelical Christian and paganism suddenly came into my life, TikTok filled my mind with shit. Exactly the same thing happened to me as you did: 10 people said one thing, and another ten something totally different. In the end, by experience, it is what you decide and your experience, as well as your intuition tell you.

If you like, you can read some examples from my personal experience:

TikTok gave me panic attacks. TikTok very much confuses paganism with witchcraft. TikTok teaches that if you do something wrong or are not "well protected" an evil spirit or entity will harm you. Or that a playful spirit is going to take the place of your god and pretend to be him. I am not a witch, but that in paganism does not exist. It's funny why someone would have to be too brave to pose as a God lol. And on the Nordic side, literally THE playful spirit is Loki, and he is my father, which spice up the joke.

Punishing gods. Shitok says that the Gods are easily annoyed. That you are going to receive a curse because you don't give them offerings, because you don't have an altar. Once I saw a stupid thing that said you couldn't work with Artemis, Aphrodite and Hera at the same time because they were going to torture you. Also that if you don't do something right, the gods will hurt you, or they will leave you. That is a very Christian concept. The gods the least they will want to do to you is harm.

The gods don't care about us. Ok, actually they DO care a lot about us. Maybe not everyone, clearly, but those who have always looked after us obviously have. To think that it is not stupid and fatalistic.

To work with gods (from the pagan point of view) you have to protect yourself with quartz, constantly clean yourself, make salt circles whenever you talk to them, put lemon wedges in corners of your house, blah blah blah. Honestly, from paganism, it is somewhat unrealistic. There are pagan witches, yes, and they can include that in their rituals, but that has nothing to do with working with Gods. I use quartz, but mostly because of the trauma that TikTok generated in me regarding these issues, but when I have done absolutely nothing "protection", nothing bad happened. I want to remember that in fact, the Gods are protection too, so.

Hope this helps!

#pagan worship #norse pagan #pagan positivity #pagancommunity #hellenic pagan #paganblr #paganism #norse paganism #deity work #deity worship

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polandspringz · 2 years

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gen:lock s2 ep 6 Liveblog

So, I had not been spoiled for this episode, I was scared though bc all the discussions in the spoilers channel of the server were blacked out so I was WORRIED. Warning how nonsensical my live blog is

(Starting off) I don't trust this chase

Okay already the tone of this episode is much much better

THE DELIVERY ON THAT NO

This feels like we ARE going down the path of "kill the whole team, replace them with copies"

DID THEY REALLY JUST DO THE FUCKING "LET ME IN LET ME IN LET ME INNNNNNNNNNNN"

(Side bar) Also I love that whenever I watch gL HBO likes to not put it in HD so i always suffer

bc Holcroft was first a transparent hologram im always surprised by how PALE he really is- baby got those baja blast eyes

I wonder if the HBO team are trying to get through the war plot to just focus on tech

UnLock. Well at least its not another fucking "mind-" concept I need to keep straight when writing.

I do like more Miranda focus this season-

DRI

I kind of hope we find out she's gL compatible (in retrospect, after seeing what they do to Sinclair, let’s HOPE they don’t do this)

Yaz and Val are KINGS- god Val looks so GOOD

THEY DID NOT GIVE MIGAS THE FAKE BEARD

"Are you in shape for the mission?" "Sorry no I've got a sleep paralysis demon"

WE SMUGGLING IN A BOMB?????? THEY ARE GOING TO KILL EVERYONE THIS SEASON

Time to gaslight gatekeep girlboss i know this isnt gaslighting but for the joke we are using Dri without her knowing the whole context~

Sinclair GET IN THE HOLON COME ON LETS DO IT

Henry what happened to you-

this slowly descending elevator is JUST the ironwood vault scene

INCLUDING THE SLOW HEAD TURN IM DYING THIS IS JUST RWBY V7 FINALE/V8

WHAT???? WHAT WAS THAT I DONT WANT TO REWIND TO GO BACK (this was in ref to the looming giant Holon)

can they get a better caliban voice

I DONT CARE I LOVE WELLER

I was wondering so hard about if we were going to get anymore Weller content after ep 1. WELLER AND CALIBAN FATHER SON INTERACTIONS

"for the sake of humanity, your body cannot be your own" feels like a THEME OF SORTS HMMMM...

really surprised we haven't checked in on Cammie i guess she's 100% dead then huh

So we are building a new nemesis very cool

ODIN isnt that norse

wOW nyc looks GREAT

I hate this Koala so much why is it so fucking UGLY- its name is mr. cook????

It's totally the true villain

"The HereAfter"- Jha you've joined a CULT

Oh so she just wants to stick it to Holcroft

This is some obvious Elon Musk/Jeff Bezos commentary which is not bad but I hate when shows decide to be obvious about it and don't go some way that famous books have done it with more metaphorical, impactful routes. Like either go ALL THE WAY or don't. Don't half ass this.

I have 5 minutes left I'm still like ARE WE JUST KEEPING CAMMIE DEAD

THAT WAS HORRIFYING WHAT THEYRE DOING TO SINCLAIR HOLY FUCK

Migas that is the SHITTIEST DISGUISE EVER

Oh god is Migas going to die too

wow are we going to get a fight scene finally

MIGAS IS DEAD ISNT HE FUCK

***THATS NOT CHASE***

"YEAH YEAH FOLLOW ME" IM WHEEZING

been a while since we've seen the striders or whatever they're called

chase REALLY FUCKED THIS UP FAST huh

oh are we going to parallel s1's finale of miranda jumping out of the strider with Dri jumping out of miranda's this time

VAL DONT DIE PLEASE

THAT WAS THE SHITTIEST FUCKING JUMP/BLASTED AWAY ANIMATION IVE SEEN IM DYING

oh great wait until Chase finds out who ELSE is inside that strider

YAZ?????? WHAT THE FUCK

OH THEY GOT HER OUT IN TIME THANK FUCK

"correction- WAS"

ABLE really delivering these lines im laughing so hard

worried Dri and Miranda are going to die in the bomb too and everything will go to SHIT

wow i would've thought chase would've had a bigger reaction

MIRANDA DEFECT WITH US!!!! COME ON!!!

THE FLOW IS HERE AND I DONT THINK MIRANDA'S CRACKED SHIELD HAS PROTECTION

CAMMIE!!!!!!!!!!

SHE'S BECOME FULL FURRY

ME TOO MIRANDA!!!

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

#gen:lock #gen lock #genlock #gen:lock season 2

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the-iceni-bitch · 3 years

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A Warm Fire

Pairing: Valkyrie/Brunnhilde/Fem-Reader

Word Count: 3876

Summary: Val helps you warm up after you get caught in a storm.

Warnings: Fluff, Spoilers for Avengers: Infinity War and Endgame (erring on the safe side with this one), Explicit language, explicit sexual content (oral sex- f receiving, scissoring, fingering) SMUT, 18+

A/N: I’ve decided for my b-day week I want to bless all you sweet bitches with a brand new smutty fic each day. My holes are worn out from all the rough himbo sex I’ve been throwing at you, so today I wanted to soften things up with something for my WLW ladies. I sub for no man, but Val could spit in my mouth and turn me into a housewife!

“Well, fuck.” You sighed.

You had hoped you’d be able to outrun the storm you saw rolling in off the coast on your weekly trip to New Asgard but hadn’t even been driving for an hour when lightning started streaking across the sky and the clouds let loose a deluge that had your ancient pickup’s wipers maxed out. You couldn’t even see 20 feet in front of you and slammed on the brakes suddenly when you came upon a massive tree blocking the road. The engine stalled out and you had now been trying to turn it over for 10 minutes with no luck.

You had thankfully been able to contact Aud and Sigurd and have them bring your animals in and batten down the barn, but there was no way you were making it back tonight. You resigned yourself to sleeping in your front seat when a pile of rocks reared out of no where and tapped on your window, causing you to let out a shriek.

“Everything ok in there?”

“Jesus Christ, Korg, what are you doing out here?”

The massive Kronan straightened back up and you thought you saw his brow furrow before his face split open in a wide grin.

“Y/N, excellent! Some of us got concerned once the storm rolled in and Val sent out a group to make sure you made it off of the Fjord ok.”

“Ok, well clearly this piece of shit is not cut out for Skagerrak storms.” You told him as you stepped out into the deluge, pulling your parka around you tightly as the wind tried to whip your hood off. “I don’t suppose you drove here in any sort of vehicle?”

“As a matter of fact, Miek drove the Jeep.”

“I’m sorry, Miek drove?” The thought of the Sakaarian larval creature driving a vehicle filled you with equal parts horror and mirth. “Do you mind if I drive us back?”

“Probably for the best. I told him that knife hands are not conducive for steering but you know he doesn’t listen to me.”

You let out a laugh as Korg lumbered into the large trailer hooked to the back of the Jeep, causing it to sink into the mud a bit. Miek scooted into the passenger seat as you turned the vehicle around and started to head back to Tønsberg.

Your cautious driving extended the trip by a good 45 minutes. The thunder had stopped but it was still pouring as you parked the jeep in one of the converted stables. Korg and Miek gave you a wave as they headed back to Thor’s, Korg carrying 3 of the pallets of Aquavit you had brought with you earlier.

You headed towards the town square and saw Brunnhilde leaning against the posts in front of her small brick house, watching the storm that was still raging out at sea before she saw you and broke out in a grin.

“Y/N, I told you not to head out in this! That piece of shit truck of yours give out on you?”

“What do you think, Hilde? I just decided to walk all the back to your house for fun in this?” You shook out your hair as the two of you stepped inside, spraying her with a thin mist of rainwater.

“Ah, you bitch! Get out of those wet clothes, I got a fire started and some dry towels and blankets set out for you. Want a hot toddy?”

You winced at the thought as you started peeling yourself out of your soaked jeans. “I’d like to be able to wake up tomorrow hon. Your hot toddys are literally just a hot mug of Aquavit with a slice of lemon.” You cursed yourself silently for introducing the Asgardians to the spicy Scandinavian liquor that you now had to truck in every week. While it was extremely lucrative, they now put it in everything.

Hilde sauntered back into the main room carrying two steaming mugs as you wrapped yourself in a wool blanket and settled in front of the fire, wearing only your bra and panties.

She rolled her eyes at you and handed you a mug, which you took a wary sniff of and were pleasantly surprised to find it was just peppermint tea.

“You’re just a lightweight.” She said as she curled up in her armchair, wrapping one hand around her mug while the other picked up the worn book that was sitting on the end table.

“How do you like it so far?” You asked her, sipping your tea slowly as you waited for it to cool.

“The writing is lovely, but it’s pretty inaccurate.”

The friendship the two of you had built over the past 3 years was something truly lovely. When she and the rest of the refugees had landed, after the snap, they were all hollow shells of grief. Thor shut himself away almost immediately, and Hilde found herself thrust into a position of leadership she had never wanted. All of them wanted nothing more than to be left alone with their sorrows, doing just enough to keep themselves alive.

The first storm off the Skaggerak had almost devastated their new home though, and when she contacted Banner for help, he called you. You still kept in touch after your years together at university, and he knew you had settled somewhere in Norway and could arrive to lend a hand faster than he could.

Your arrival brought some much needed distraction to their sleepy town. You had managed to round up a group of your Norwegian neighbors, along with some fellow expats, and set about making the necessary changes to assure that New Asgard would be a thriving community. While the rest of your group set to restructuring architecture, and teaching the town’s new inhabitants the necessities of a seaside existence on the windy Fjord, you began the slow process of helping the refugees move on from their sorrow.

Your anthropology doctorate was specialized in Norse culture, after all, and you would often bring small reminders of their lost home with you whenever you came to visit. Whether it was a collection of replicated Talharpas, Skalmejens, and Lurs to give to the children to learn music or a large cache of drinking horns to stock their taverns, every time your truck came lumbering down the hills, Brunnhilde watched the faces of her citizens light up with anticipation for some new pleasant surprise. When you arrived with your first load of Aquavit and spent the night drinking with them and singing the drinking songs they knew well, you were all but confirmed as an honorary Asgardian. Your haunting rendition of Lilja actually brought tears to a few eyes.

Brunnhilde made sure to let you know how grateful she was as much as possible. She would always have some small gift for you when you arrived, but all you asked her for was to sit and talk, discussing the history of Asgard and the nine realms as you scribbled copious notes. She loved watching your face screw up in concentration as you bent over one of your notebooks, one stubborn lock of hair falling into your face.

She laughed to herself softly now as she remembered the visit a few weeks ago when she had first introduced you to her winged steed, Aragorn. Your look of awe had been replaced quickly with uncontrollable laughter when she had told you his name. You refused to tell her what was so funny, but she was determined to get it out of you at some point.

You had brought your original copy of Snorri’s Edda the next week, and she had read it through 3 times already.

She ran her hands softly over the spine of the book before tossing back the rest of her toddy and setting the book and her mug back on the end table before sinking to the floor behind you and nuzzling herself into your hair, sighing as she inhaled the scent of fresh rain.

You leaned back into her slowly, giving a soft hum of contentedness. She slipped the blanket off of your shoulders to pool around your waist as she left a trail of soft kisses down your neck, before softly raising a bruise into your collarbone with her mouth.

The moan you gave her made her grin against your skin, and she slipped one hand into the front of your bra, softly drawing her fingers across your nipple.

“Fuck, Hilde!” you pressed your chest further into her hand as her other moved behind you to unhook your bra and slip it off your shoulders, freeing your breasts. She felt your nipples harden against her fingers as she turned your head and slowly teased your mouth open with her tongue.

“Eyes open, pretty girl.” She whispered as her left hand continued to palm at your breast and roll your nipple between her fingers. You stared at her through your lashes as she brought her right hand up and put her index and middle finger in your mouth. You gave them a soft nip before sucking and swirling your tongue around them slowly.

She grinned at you wickedly as she dragged her soaked fingers down your torso at an agonizing pace, leaving a thin trail of your saliva before she tucked them under the edge of your panties and dragged them over your sopping cunt, separating the soft folds there to tease against your entrance.

“Oh, poor baby, look how much this pussy missed me?” She said as you let out a thin keen, screwing your eyes shut and dropping your head against her neck. She slapped your tit suddenly and tweaked your nipple hard, making you gasp. “You better keep those eyes open if you want me to let you come sweetheart. You want me to stretch this pretty pussy around my fingers and make you feel good?”

“Yes, god” you let out breathlessly, forcing your eyes open as she studied your face.

“Ah, ah, ask nicely.”

“Yes please.” You hissed as her fingers continued to tease at your folds, lightly brushing against your clit.

“Good girl”

She slipped one finger inside of you slowly and you immediately clenched around it as she pressed it against that soft spongy spot.

“Ooh, honey. You’re so fucking tight, I’m gonna stretch you out so good.” She whispered against your lips as she kissed you softly.

Her second finger slipped in easily and she started fucking them into you slowly, pressing her palm against your clit as she did so and your arousal seeped all over her hand. Your breath was hitching in your chest as she increased her pace.

You felt yourself flutter around her and it took all of your willpower to not screw your eyes shut and drop against her shoulder. You ground yourself against her hand as she suddenly slowed down, hungry for more friction.

“You want me to add another finger, sweet girl?” She asked slyly, teasing her promise against your entrance.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak so you nodded at her, your chest heaving as she continued palming your breast and you felt a resounding shiver in your core.

“You’re lucky I’m soft on you sweetie, I should be making you beg for this.” She murmured as she shoved all three of her fingers in suddenly, causing you to let out a small cry as she started fucking them into you at a rough speed. “I’m just finishing you off so I can feel this sweet mouth of yours on my cunt. You want to taste me baby?”

“Shit, Hilde!” The thought of her taste on your tongue sent you over the edge as she drove her palm into your clit one last time and you released around her, fluttering as you soaked her hand. Her strong arms held you still as your orgasm wracked you and every muscle trembled. Once you had ridden it out, she drew her hand out of your ruined panties to suck on her fingers.

“Mmm, you taste so good honey. Don’t you think?” She placed her mouth on yours and pressed her tongue against yours and you moaned as you tasted your own release.

“Help me out of my clothes baby, I need to ride that pretty face.”

She climbed around you and settled into your lap, kissing you deeply and making happy little humming sounds. You drew her sweater up over her head and tossed it aside, and were pleasantly surprised to see she wasn’t wearing a bra. You gave her a wicked grin before lifting her up and pressing her chest to your face, latching your mouth to one of her nipples as your hands cupped her ass through her leggings. She gave a light laugh and tossed her head back as her fingers carded themselves through your hair. You brought one of your hands between the two of you, shoving it down the front of her leggings and drawing your fingers through her slick, making her gasp.

“God, baby, you’re so fucking greedy.” She laughed lightly as you peppered her chest with kisses, occasionally creating some light suction with your tongue to raise a light bruise. “Mmm, you know just what to do, but I want to come all over that beautiful face of yours.”

You smiled against her chest as you gently nuzzled yourself between her breasts before falling back abruptly and making her gasp.

“You are being such a trouble maker, today, Y/N. Fine, I’m going grind your pussy so good before I rub that smirk off your face with my cunt.”

She sat up between your legs a drew your soaked panties off before removing her own leggings. She stretched your right leg off to the side and lightly drew her fingers up the inside of your thigh, removing them right before she reached your quivering pussy and making you whine.

“Don’t be a brat baby. Look at this pretty pussy, just weeping for me.” She stared at your swollen cunt with a grin as she hooked a hand under your left knee and positioned herself so she was straddling you, her soft folds just kissing yours as she hovered there. “You want to feel my pussy on yours, baby? Want me to grind that clit so good? You better fucking beg for it.”

“Oh god, pleasepleaseplease…” you let out in a hiss as she pressed herself down and ground herself into you.

“Mmm, I feel that sweet pussy quivering for me. God, you’re like my own fucking vibrator.” She kept twisting her hips into yours, hitting you at that perfect angle each time and making you mewl and whimper unintelligibly as she edged you closer to your release. She unbent your right leg slowly, running her thumb up your calf before nipping at the pad of your big toe, making you arch into her. “No no, sweetheart, isn’t it so much better when you hold still? You know I’ll take care of you.”

She stretched your right leg out so you were wide open and pinned your thighs down with her hands as she picked up the pace. She bit her lip and gazed down at you through hooded eyes and you felt her core twitch against yours. One more drive of her hips and you came apart at the same time, your releases mixing together to coat the insides of your thighs. You let out a scream while she just gasped, still managing to hold you down as your pleasure wracked through you and you wound your hands into the blanket beside you for some kind of anchor.

“Fuck baby, this pussy is so good to me. I wanna run my tongue over this pretty cunt while I ride your face. You better be good for me.”

She twisted herself around to straddle your face. You softly nipped at her left cheek then gave her ass a slap, making her yelp, and she responded by smacking your pussy twice before grinding into your face.

“Oohh, are you going to be a bad girl?” She scolded you as you wrapped your arms around her thighs and teased her folds with your tongue. “Am I going to have to edge you all nigh… Fuck!!” Your tongue found her entrance and you moaned into her cunt, causing vibrations that made her clench against your face. “God, baby, you’re so good at that. Your miss this pussy so bad, look at the mess you’re making.” She separated your folds and softly blew against your clit before shoving three fingers into you with no preparation. “Mmm, you’re fucking ready for me sweetheart, I’m barely even stretching you now. You want me to add another finger?”

She gave your clit another soft slap and you came suddenly, legs and core trembling as you clenched and released around her fingers. You tried to come up for air, but Hilde just ground her hips into your face.

“Na-ah.” She scolded you. “You wanted to get fresh with me and now you better make me come if you want to breathe. You get to work. I’m going to wring every ounce of pleasure out of this pussy until you give me what I want, I don’t care if you pass out.”

She inserted a fourth finger into your canal and started to fuck them all into you, flicking soft kitten licks against your small bundle of nerves before she latched onto it, sucking hard.

Tears started streaming down your face as another orgasm ripped through you. You were starting to feel light-headed from a mixture of pleasure and oxygen deprivation. She drew her tongue slowly up and down your entrance while her fingers kept moving inside you, doing her best to lap up your release before her tongue went back to massaging your clit.

You barely skimmed your teeth against her clit and she let out a soft cry against you, slapping your pussy in response and making you come again. You shook your head to bury yourself deeper into her folds and fought off the urge to pass out before shoving your tongue into her pussy and bringing your fingers up to rub harsh circles into her tiny apex of pleasure.

She collapsed against you at the sudden change in sensation with a gasp before she rose up to really grind into you.

You started fucking your tongue in and out of her, making sure to press it against her g-spot each time and felt her thighs tense around your face.

“God baby, don’t fucking stop. Fuck, just like that, right there. That tongue of yours is so fucking good. You’re so fucking good. Feels so good.” You knew when she started babbling breathlessly like this she was close. She brought one of her hands up to palm her breast as her other gripped the wrist of the hand you had working her clit, making sure you didn’t move away.

Just as the edges of your vision started to close in, you felt her core vibrate and her cunt clenched around your tongue as her release gushed into your mouth. The only sound she made was a rapid breathless pant and she rolled off of you slowly, finally allowing you to suck in oxygen as stars swam behind your vision. You did your best to catch your breath as you felt her stretch languidly beside you before she sat up to stare at you.

“Fuck, baby. I don’t know why I let you take this pussy away from me. I know you just lay there by yourself every night dreaming of my fingers buried in you.” She slowly drew a hand along your slit and you groaned when she brushed against your overstimulated clit. “Just swollen and crying for me. Whose pussy is this baby?” She asked you, curling her fingers against your mound.

You knew if you didn’t tell her what she wanted to hear, she would wring it out of you, and if you had any more orgasms you were going to pass out. “Yours, baby.” You murmured, staring at her through your eyelashes.

“Good girl.” She patted your cunt twice, making you twitch, before she bent down and kissed you softly.

She stood up and collected your mugs and brought them back into the kitchen, wiggling her ass at you when she felt you watching her, making you laugh.

“Can you throw some more logs on the fire, Y/N? I’ll grab us some clean blankets and pillows and we can sleep out here.”

“Yes ma’am.” You called back to her, breaking the current logs apart with the poker before adding three new ones and stoking it. You gathered your discarded clothes and the soiled blanket in a bundle and headed to the bathroom to put them in the hamper and run a damp towel against your sex to clean up, bringing another out with you as you headed back to the fire, where Hilde had piled a ridiculous amount of blankets and pillows in a massive nest for the two of you.

You sank down next to her and she drew your face to hers for a kiss. You smiled against her lips as you gently drew the soft towel you had brought with you over her cunt and along her thighs to clean her off as she gave a contented sigh.

“Stay.” She said softly, nuzzling softly into your neck as you held her against her chest and slowly sank back against the pile of cushions, giving her hair a soft kiss.

“Hilde, the road is out, I’m not going anywhere until tomorrow.”

“No, Y/N. Stay. Move here with me. I need you.” She looked up at you with genuine pleading in her eyes. You had never seen such open emotion on her face before.

You only had to think about it for a minute. The weeks between your trips were always spent planning your next visit. Thinking over what you wanted to talk to Hilde about. Your bed felt empty without her there.

“I need you too baby. I love you.” You whispered to her, tipping her chin up to look into her eyes as you gave her a gentle smile.

Her face split into a grin. “Is that a yes?”

“Of course, Hilde.”

“Oh god, Y/N, I love you too!” She drew your face down to hers and kissed you deeply, clutching you to her needily before releasing you with a grin. “I miss that pussy almost as much as it misses me.”

You laughed at that and laid back with a sigh. Hilde rested her head between your breasts and brought her hands close around your sides, pulling the thick wool blanket around the two of you tightly.

“Just make sure Miek doesn’t try to fight my sheep again.” You whispered to her, running a hand softly up and down her back.

“That was a misunderstanding.” She smiled against you as her breathing slowed and deepened, and she sunk closer to sleep.

The two of you laid there intertwined for the rest of the night, drifting off as the fire crackled and died. You had never felt so content in your life.

#valkyrie x reader #wlw love #wlw #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #tessa thompson #writing

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phykios · 3 years

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honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]

Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.

"What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.

The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.

If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.

"Of August?" she asks.

"Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.

"Duh."

Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."

"Good, because we have plans."

She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"

"No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"

Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"

"Our Smarter House thing won an award."

"No shit?"

"Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."

She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.

Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."

"Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.

"No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.

"Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."

Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.

Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.

Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.

She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.

"I thought I had until two."

"That was before I had the best idea."

The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."

"First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."

Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.

Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”

Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."

Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."

"Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."

She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."

When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"

Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"

"The guy you've been seeing."

How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."

She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.

Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."

"How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.

"Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."

Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.

"That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."

"So, for a few hours?"

She shrugs. "More or less."

"I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."

"Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."

Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."

"Seeing or seeing-seeing?"

"Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."

"Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.

Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."

"Another business bro, I assume?"

"He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."

She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"

"Ballet."

Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”

“I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.

“Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”

“I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”

“The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.

Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.

“Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”

Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”

Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.

“You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”

She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.

Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”

“Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”

“2019 fall/winter?”

Annabeth nods.

“Styling?”

“Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”

Throwing her head back, she groans.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”

“Well… yeah, I was.”

“Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”

Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”

“That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”

Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”

“Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”

Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.

“I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”

“Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”

Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”

“I don’t know…”

“You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.

Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”

“They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”

Well. They are pretty cool.

“It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”

Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”

“I haven’t even done anything.”

“I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”

***

“Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”

“Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.

She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.

The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.

“Annabeth Chase.”

She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”

Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.

Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.

“And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.

“You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.

“Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”

She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”

Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”

“Seriously?”

“Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”

She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”

“Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”

He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”

“I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.

This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.

“I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”

He frowns. “You sure?”

Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.

“You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.

There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”

Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.

“It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”

From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”

She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.

“As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”

She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.

“But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”

Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.

Hey, it’s her night, too.

After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.

Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.

“...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”

“I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”

“You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”

“Rehab? Really?”

“What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”

Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.

But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”

Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.

The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.

Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.

Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.

Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.

The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.

She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.

That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.

Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.

She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.

She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.

It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.

She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.

Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.

It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you

#backstory backstory backstoryyyyyyy #my fic #percabeth #pjo #the rivalry ends here #darkmagyk #perseannabeth #ballet au

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luna-helps-writing · 3 years

Note

Hey could I request a match up for lotr, marvel, and x-men? Thank you. I’m a nonbinary goth who’s into men. I look really scary but I’d apologise to you if you spilt soup in my lap.

I have major anxiety, bpd, and c-ptsd. I’ve had to drop out of school due to this but that doesn’t stop me from learning as much as I can from home. I’m currently learning Korean, and studying the Birdlife and plants in my area. I love nature, especially birds, and have a pet budgie named Yog-Sothoth The All Seeing God (or Yog for short).

I’m 5’6” with black and red hair, green eyes, pale skin and freckles. I mostly wear alternative clothes or gothic renaissance clothes. I also love wearing platform boots.

I don’t really take care of myself but always take care of those I love. I’ve gotten into a few fist fights before because they were bullying my friends. I get really passionate about the things I love and won’t shut up about them. I love baking, writing, and drawing. I’m a bit of a mess, but if you know me it won’t matter. I’m quiet around people I don’t know and am always making stupid jokes to those I’m close to.

Thank you!!

Thank you for your ask!

For Lord of the Rings, I ship you with Haldir!

• I believe that every elf likes goths. This one was a very close call with Legolas, to be fair. I choose Haldir, simply because I feel like he would be able to balance both of your personalities more than our Mirkwood friend.

• Okay, so as I said, in my head, elves absolutely adore goths. They are so different from the fair beings, which intrigues them so much. Haldir is no different. Serving in Lothlorièn doesn’t really provide him with much of the outside world, but boy oh boy, when he meets you-

• Is a great person for comfort! Whenever something just gets too much or you need some time away, he’ll help you with anything! So kind and helpful, you deserve a Haldir ;-;

• Since he lives in a forest, he knows a lot about animals and biology, yet not the things you know. He can listen to you talk about it for hours without ever growing tired.

• Will 100% take care of you when you won’t do it yourself. In his eyes, you deserve the world, and as he can not physically do that, he’ll do anything in his will to keep you healthy and happy.

• He will hold you back during fights though, which is not always great, because at times you’ll be too caught up and accidentally punch him. Even though he tells you it’s okay, it actually hurts but he’d rather die than admit to you that you hurt him. He’s afraid you’ll feel bad for him.

For the MCU, I ship you with Loki!

• Does this come as a surprise? Not for me, no.

• Will steal your platform boots. Like, seriously; they are not safe around them. Hiding won’t help you. He’ll find them. You have to wear them all day in order to secure them.

• Tries to reason with you whenever you get caught up in fights, as he knows how passionate you are about something, but when someone said something really dumb, he’ll gladly join in and will try to kill that person. Now it’s your turn to reason with him.

• Will pull stupid pranks with you on his brother. Yes, it involves stabbing him, and while you were hesitant at first, you soon found out it doesn’t really hurt him, so you’re okay with it now.

• He adores your drawings! He keeps one of your old sketchbooks in his room (without your knowledge) and will look at it for hours, even though he has seen it thousands of times before. He even tries to draw like you, but he can’t seem to get the hang of it and it bothers him so much. He’ll never show it to anyone, but we know better.

• Let’s be honest; he’s the chillest person there is considering gender. Not bothered at all. Completely cool. Talking about Norse Mythology Loki real quick; has had many gender himself, so no surprise there. When someone does disrespect you, there will be no holding back from Loki’s side.

For X-men, I ship you with Wade Wilson! (Deadpool)

• Is honestly really impressed by your looks. He thinks it’s the coolest thing ever and even tries to add it in his suit. It looks stupid though, so you’ll have to tell him to stop.

• He might not want to admit it, but he suffers from ptsd too, so he knows the issues. He will absolutely be there for you and talk you through anything. Well, talk....not his strongest point. Let’s say joke. His jokes are always good.

• Loses his shit when he figured out you’re learning Korean. He will try to join you, but he’s terrible at learning languages. He tries his best, he really does, he just has a terrible memory.

• Will definitely use your writing in one of his fights. Perhaps it’s a cool one-liner he can’t get out of his head and he’ll just say it out loud. Has great writing ideas too, even if it sounds stupid. He cannot really write, but he’s great at giving inspiration and he’s so encouraging!

• Most surprisingly perhaps; he is a natural baker. He has never baked in his life before, but whenever he wants to help you, he does everything exactly right, maybe even better. He plays it off as if it’s nothing, but he totally brags about it in front of others.

• Continuing on my earlier point, the two of you have a lot of bake-offs. It started out as simple cupcakes, but now you’re making three-layered cakes.

I hope it was to your liking! Stay safe❤️

#self insert quotes #requests are open #requests #send asks #match up #deadpool x reader #wade wilson x reader #haldir x reader #loki x reader

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thebigqueer · 3 years

Text

rachel & alex summer fling headcanons

because i am still thinking about this and i don't know if i'll ever have the willpower to actually write this as a fic so......... here you go <3

rachel & alex have known each other for quite a while, actually. they've met at parties that their parents attended for Rich People since they were kids. usually, whenever they met at a party, they'd go and sneak out and do their own things.

they've kept in contact for a while.

one day, before rachel starts her studies at clarion academy (for her second year; aka the june before the war with gaea), she and her friend go to some place in massachusetts just for a fun day out before school starts. they go to her friend's huge mansion or something in that state.

the girls sneak out into the woods after rachel's friend convinces her to come out with her, because she's got some "friends" coming over and she knows that rachel's still a little bummed out with all that's going on in her life (rachel hasn't told her about her greek life but she has talked about shit happening at home). rachel agrees and they meet with the two "friends."

it's evening when they all meet each other in the woods, and that's when rachel & her friend meet alex and adrian.

alex and rachel immediately hit it off, and they're totally surprised to see each other.

"rachel? is that you?" "ALEX OMG??"

even though they've stayed in contact, alex has already been homeless for about a year at this point, and for that reason rachel doesn't immediately recognize him (but she's heard from news pieces that mr. fierro's child has gone missing, and she's been pretty worried about alex in that time that they hadn't been talking.)

alex & rachel catch each other up (alex explains how he got disowned and how hard life has been up till this point, and rachel asks if there's anything she can do. alex gets a little uncomfortable talking at this point but assures her that it's nothing, he's fine, but even then rachel promises she's here for him and to let her know if he ever needs anything and she can always steal from her own dad.)

also, rachel has known about alex being genderfluid since the last time they'd talked (which was at a party about another year back) so rachel isn't entirely surprised it happened. she still feels terrible, though.

for the few weeks that rachel & her friend are in massachusetts, rachel continuously meets up with alex and they go do rebellious teen stuff, probably some graffiti here and there some nights, probably some random parties.

throughout this time, they completely revitalize their friendship, to the point where they're both kind of convinced that they might have feelings for each other.

(mostly, they still consider themselves best friends, but it's the height of the summer when everything's wild and free and rachel & alex both probably are just stressed with their lives that they're finding some refuge in each other.)

they share their first kiss at some party while they're both a little tipsy.

they're together for most of june & july. they watch fireworks, they go on late-night dates, they do midnight raids to taco bell. alex & adrian tend to crash at rachel's friend's mansion whenever the two of them can.

they have a lot of fun together.

their relationship is free & exciting, especially since they both clearly have a lot of similar interests, but eventually rachel realizes that what she has with alex is similar to what she had with percy - she's not sure she really truly has feelings for alex, but she's definitely finding freedom with her. alex is like a breath of fresh air to her while things in her actual life are shaking up for the worst. alex feels the same - maybe she doesn't really like rachel, but likes what rachel represents for her.

they end up breaking up in early august, but there's no hard feelings at all. they both recognize that what they had was truly exciting, but maybe what they had was just made as an escape from what was going on in their lives. they never had true romantic feelings but they still value the romance that they shared.

but now rachel & alex's friendship & value for each other are heightened by a lot, and they become even closer best friends even by the end.

but then, after another year (when alex turns sixteen) obviously she dies and rachel finds out. she feels terrible & heartbroken and probably closes herself off.

that is, until one day she's at another Rich People party with her dad and finds a familiar face with green hair hiding in the shadows stashing his face with food.

rachel is incredibly surprised (and very excited) to realize alex isn't technically dead!!! alex is only at the party because she knows that now she's dead, she can't even impact her dad anymore; she can cause as much chaos as she wants.

rachel & alex set up a date when alex can visit her to tell her all about what's happened and assure her she isn't going crazy.

in nyc, where they've agreed to meet, alex tells rachel all about what's happened and all about norse mythology, that she's not really dead, that she's running a house in boston, that she's messing with her dad's parties whenever she can, that she's enjoying getting onto tabloids whenever someone gets suspicious and sees in newspapers that "mr. fierro's deceased child may not be so deceased after all." she also tells rachel about her new partner magnus chase and the two gush over how cute he is <3 (alex also makes fun of him and rachel absolutely adores each story she tells her about magnus)

rachel also catches her up with things going on in her life, like the stuff going on in her greek pantheon (which she also explains to alex, but is surprised to find alex already knows everything about the greek pantheon and soon they both realize they know annabeth lmao)

and then the two of them stay in contact & stay best friends for a long time <3

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jaskiers-sweetkiss · 4 years

Text

Worth It

Pairings: Dousy, background Pepperony, FitzSimmons, Philinda, Mackelana, and Huntingbird

Word Count: 2.8K

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of gun use, mentions of ptsd, light swearing

a/n: Here’s my soulmate au for day 6 of @aosficnet2 ‘s AoS AU August! It’s got Modern Man!Daniel Sousa based on Enver’s appearance as a police officer in The Avengers.

___

Daisy “Quake” Johnson - Inhuman, hacker, Agent of SHIELD, and now she could add “Avenger” to her list of descriptors. The agent hadn’t been entirely surprised when she’d received an impromptu meeting with Director Nick Fury about her powers. At the time he had told her he was putting together a team, a group of people with super-human abilities that would work together to defend the world if the threat arose. She had signed on, she was already a SHIELD agent and she’d had plenty of training with her ability from her mom growing up at Afterlife, but she never met the team. Well, until about 24 hours ago. They were a bit of a nightmare (a complete shitshow if she was being blunt), none of them had worked together before so it was no surprise that they were butting heads. Daisy got along just fine with Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow as the two of them had crossed paths from time to time within SHIELD, but she couldn’t say the same for scientist Bruce Banner (the Hulk), billionaire Tony Stark (Iron Man), or the first-ever superhero Steve Rogers (Captain America). Of course, now they were also dealing with a Norse god of thunder who was supposedly good and his brother who was apparently bad. Thor, Stark, and Rogers: three massive egos in one aircraft.

Judging by the footage they were streaming from the museum Loki was more than just bad. Daisy had always been wary of powers, her mom had taught her that. Power was extremely dangerous when put in the wrong hands, that’s why Afterlife was so selective in choosing who got to go through terrigenesis. Loki was clearly the wrong hands and even though she really hated the men she was surrounded with, if they were the world’s only hope then she’d put up with them.

“So you expect me to believe there is life on other planets?”

Daisy sighed, trying not to get too frustrated. The man had been in the ice for seventy years, he missed a lot and probably had no reason to expect that “aliens” existed. Of course, she had known the truth since she was a child: not only was it highly probable that life existed elsewhere in the galaxy, but she was part-alien herself. Of course, no one else knew that. Inhumans were a secret from the rest of the world and it would need to stay that way.

“Oh, I’m sorry Seismic Activity, did you know that already?” Stark asked sarcastically, raising a brow at her and she rolled her eyes.

“It’s Quake, actually, and yeah, I knew that, statistically, it was highly probable that alien life exists,” she bit back, glaring at the man, “Just about everyone in this century knows that.”

“Agent Johnson if you have some sort of issue with when I was born then you should just come out and say it,” Cap said, a frown on his face as he sat up in his chair.

“Look, I couldn’t give two shits whether you were born yesterday or a thousand years ago, I just don’t think we really have time to be debating extraterrestrial life right now,” Daisy said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes again as she gestured to the holoscreen displaying Loki’s cell.

“She’s right, gear up.” Director Fury said. Daisy wasn’t sure when he had entered but she was glad he was taking her side. “We’re under attack.”

Daisy nodded, rushing out of the room to find her gauntlets and her weapons. It wasn’t a great idea to quake on a giant helicarrier so she’d probably be fighting old school.

“Woah, what the hell is that Johnson?” Natasha Romanoff was sneakier than Fury and Daisy hadn’t even known she was in the room until her wrist was tightly in the woman’s grasp.

She sighed, tugging her arm out of the redhead’s grip and slipping on her gauntlet to cover the writing. The marks weren’t uncommon, most of the world had them. They developed at age 16 and were usually the first words your soulmate said to you. However, not everyone got one or soulmates died and SHIELD specialized in utilizing the soulmark-less. That’s not to say there weren’t agents with soul marks in the organization, for ordinary agents SHIELD held a mostly don’t ask, don’t tell policy. Typically the only way to get into high-risk assignments like the Avengers was to prove the lack of a soulmate, but of course, the Avengers were less than typical.

“They make exceptions for people with powers.” She brushed it off, slipping on her other gauntlet.

“That doesn’t change the fact that you’re connected to someone,” Natasha argued and Daisy huffed, turning away.

“Stark’s got a mark, and he’s actually met his soulmate. If something happens to me mine’ll never know what they missed.”

Daisy quickly slid her various knives and guns into place in their holsters before leaving, effectively putting an end to one of the worst conversations she’d had in a while. She didn’t need the Black Widow to guilt-trip her, she had herself for that. She’d heard the stories about the pain people felt when their soulmate died and it often kept her up at night, but right now she had a job to do and she’d be damned if she sacrificed the world for one person she hadn’t even met.

Of course, her dedication to the cause hadn’t mattered much, she still wound up on the floor of the helicarrier with Phil Coulson bleeding out. She didn’t know the man super well, but he was usually the agent present whenever an 0-8-4 was discovered and since Daisy was something of an 0-8-4 herself, they crossed paths pretty frequently. She knew he was an upstanding and kind man, she knew he was a good agent, and she knew he didn’t deserve to die like this.

It wasn’t long until Fury came and swept him away and Hill ushered her back into the briefing room where some of the others were gathered. They all looked worse for wear and apparently they were about ready to give up. The Hulk was gone, Loki had jettisoned Thor from the airship, and he has the tesseract and would likely be taking over earth shortly. Daisy couldn’t believe it.

“I just watched several good agents die, and you want to throw in the towel? Do you have any respect for yourselves?” She questioned, glaring at Rogers and Stark.

She stormed out when she was met with silence, passing Fury in the hallway. She wanted desperately to change out of her skintight Quake suit and get cleaned up, but she wasn’t ready to give up the fight yet, opting instead to unzip the top half, tying the sleeves around her waist. She wandered around the ship like that, her sports bra the only thing covering her torso, before finding herself on the top deck, leaning over a railing.

“Have you met them yet?”

Daisy turned to see Rogers gesturing to her wrist where the words “Who the hell are you?” were written in a neat script.

“Nah,” she shook her head, barely concealing her disappointment with a smile.

“You’ll find them eventually, or they’ll find you.” He gave her a tight-lipped smile.

“Thanks for not berating me for risking my life while my soulmate is out there somewhere.”

“Hey, I hid my makr to join a highly experimental drug trial and enlist in World War Two so I don’t have much room for judgment.” He joked and Daisy laughed, feeling a little better.

___

Daniel Sousa had been sure this would be another day at the station as he slipped his uniform over his shoulders, covering the soulmark on the back of his shoulder. Soulmarks appeared when a person turned 16, appearing at the place where their soulmate would first come in contact with them. The combination of the location of his mark and the words (“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go”) had always been a mystery to him though he hoped he would solve it soon.

He took the subway to the station, just like he did every morning. Daniel was a police officer for the 99th precinct in NYC which was about a fifteen-minute subway ride away from his apartment. Despite its obvious flaws (thanks MTA), he liked taking the subway - it was more environmentally friendly than driving himself, it was much faster than trying to make it through New York traffic or walk (though sometimes he did walk when it was nice and his leg wasn’t bugging him as much), and the crowds increased the probability that he’d come across his soulmate.

She wasn’t on the subway today again and so Daniel resigned himself to daydreams of how they might meet. He hoped it would be romantic, that she’d bump into him accidentally (it was the best way he could explain the back of his shoulder), maybe he’d catch her as she tripped over him and they’d lock eyes and she’d take his breath away. He pushed away the fears that she would be freaked out by his prosthetic or the fact that her words on his shoulder didn’t fit that scenario at all. He wanted their meeting to be perfect for her.

He was ripped away from his thoughts by his partner, Jack Thompson, telling him they had to go check out a call downtown. There weren’t any detectives involved so it likely wasn’t anything serious- probably a noise complaint or something equally mundane.

Daniel had been right, the call was a typical noise complaint, easily solved and probably ignored as soon as they left the building (Jack bet they’d be back in 24 hours, Daniel gave it 32). However, he never could’ve guessed that when they went to climb back into the squad car a portal would open up in the sky and a bunch of space creatures would attack earth. Thompson grabbed the radio to inform the station of the situation. It took a few minutes of convincing (he didn’t blame them, he only believed it because he was seeing it) and a few more to figure out what to do (there really isn’t an official protocol for Hostile Alien Invasion) before they were told to stay put and that backup was on the way.

Daniel reached for his gun, steeling himself for the fight he was sure he was about to be involved in. An alien invasion would be a really bad time for his crippling ptsd. Still, he was sure his hand would shake if he had to actually lift his gun, his finger would hesitate on the trigger, he’d have to fight to keep his eyes open because if he closed them all he’d see was Afghanistan.

“Sousa you with me?” Thompson asked, snapping him from his thoughts.

He nodded, letting out a shaky breath, when had he stopped breathing?

Thompson nodded, more to himself than to Daniel, “Good, cause we’re going to get through this.”

___

If she had been really thinking at all, she might’ve wondered if she was having an out-of-body experience as she moved through the streets of Manhattan with the purpose of a woman on a mission. The Avengers were scattered across the borough trying to fight the Chitauri with mixed success. It seemed like no matter how many they blasted, quaked, shot, or struck with lightning more kept coming through the portal. Daisy was taking out as many of the aliens as she could while trying to command the local police forces- badges or not, they were purely human and severely underprepared to fight this threat. Their services were more equipped to evacuate and protect the civilians.

She hadn’t been paying attention when she knocked into someone’s shoulder. It was a police officer, she noticed, though where most of the officers she’d seen seemed ready to take on the Chitauri head-on, he looked terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The man questioned, quickly grabbing her wrist before she could run off.

“Probably your only chance at survival now let me go.” Daisy bit back angrily and the man gasped, dropping her arm and backing away like she had burned him.

“You’re- we’re-” The man stuttered and even though he could’ve been about to say anything (maybe “you’re Quake!” or “We’re gonna die!”) Daisy knew exactly what he meant. She knew from the burning sensation on the wrist he had been holding. He was her soulmate.

“Oh my god, I don’t have time for this!” Daisy yelled angrily, quaking the alien that had appeared behind the man.

She silently cursed fate or destiny or whatever was behind this for planning her soulmate meeting during a literal alien invasion.

“Listen, I need you to leave the frontlines- spread the word: all officers are to evacuate as many civilians as possible. Focus on protecting them.” She ordered making an effort to put the world-altering event before the life-altering event she had accidentally just stumbled upon.

“Who’s going to be there to fight?”

Daisy quaked another approaching Chitauri soldier. “Leave that to the people with powers.”

The officer nodded mutely, seemingly stunned into silence.

“Sousa!” Another officer called out, “Quit chatting we have a job to do!”

The dark-haired officer, her soulmate, nodded to the man and started to move away.

“Officer Sousa!” Daisy called, taking steps backward herself, “Maybe we can get some coffee when this is all done?”

“Sure but how’ll I find you?” He asked, turning back to stare at her hopefully.

Daisy’s steps were picking up speed, the urgency of the day not lost on her. “Don’t worry about it, I’ll find you!”

And with that she was off, turning on her heels and sprinting towards Stark Tower.

___

Daisy stared at the computer monitor in front of her. It had been a few days since the Chitauri attack and while New York and her mental state was still a disaster, she needed to do this. The file she had found in SHIELD’s database was a welcome distraction, as was the handsome face staring back at her from the screen.

Daniel Jordan Sousa. Born 1984 in Twin Falls, Idaho. Served one tour in Afghanistan before being discharged due to an injury resulting in the amputation of his left leg.

She scrolled down to the contact information.

Cellphone: (xxx)xxx-xxxx

Bingo.

Daisy: Hi, it’s Daisy Johnson, your soulmate? I was wondering if we could get that coffee?

She was surprised by how quickly he responded.

Daniel: I’d love to!

Daniel: btw how did you get my number?

Daisy: It’s a bit of a story, mind if I tell you over that coffee?

Daniel: does 1:00 work? Maybe we could grab a bite to eat while we’re at it?

Daisy smiled before checking the time, 11 o’clock. She had two hours to get ready.

Daisy: 1:00 sounds great. I know a cute place off 12th ave

___

Daniel had no intention of pulling his soulmate from the field, he knew it was where she wanted to be and he’d never dream of taking it from her. However, he’d be damned if he wasn’t out there to watch her back. So, he joined SHIELD not long after they met. Despite his prosthetic, he climbed the ranks relatively quickly though Daisy wasn’t surprised. She had seen his record both in the military and the police force, Daniel Sousa was a damn fine agent.

The two weren’t in any hurry relationship-wise. They had moved in together fairly quickly but even two years later they had yet to get engaged. It was a bit of an anomaly - soulmates were usually hitched within a year of meeting each other but Daisy didn’t really hold much stock in a piece of paper declaring their relationship valid and Daniel decided he really didn’t need that paper either as long as he still had Daisy. Besides, with their separate jobs at SHIELD, they didn’t really have much time to plan engagements or weddings.

In 2014 the pair were recruited to an elite team by Phil Coulson, the man Daisy could’ve sworn had died in her arms, the man the Avengers were told had died. She had shaken her head at Fury when she found out. “You manipulative son of a bitch,” she had said though she had meant it fondly. Who knows what would’ve happened when the Chitauri invaded if he hadn’t done what he had.

Daisy and Daniel joined scientist duo and soulmates Jemma Simmons and Leopold Fitz as well as Coulson’s soulmate Melinda May on the Bus, a giant plane Fury had given Coulson as reparations for his death. The team had its bumps in its initial missions but they quickly became a tightly knit family that only grew when Coulson took over as Director of SHIELD after the Hydra takeover.

When Daniel finally proposed Jemma had been her maid of honor and Bobbi and Elena had been her bridesmaids. Likewise, Fitz had been Daniel’s best man and Mack and Hunter had filled out the rest of the groomsmen roles. It had been a small but beautiful wedding, Daisy’s mom had allowed them to have the ceremony at Afterlife and Coulson and May had been their officiants.

Daisy had cursed fate when they met, but looking back she realized it was all worth it for this.

___

a/n: I had no idea how to end this. Also, I have no clue where the 99th precinct operates in NYC (if it even exists) I just wanted to make a Brooklyn 99 reference. Though I’m realizing belatedly that B99 takes place in Brooklyn and probably doesn’t operate in manhattan but oh well.

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