PLaintains

T’challa x POC!Reader x Sam Wilson

so i saw somebody request something like this (it was a request for sam/reader/steve) on @lady-thor-foster and i got inspired so whoever requested this on @lady-thor-foster ‘s blog this is for you lol

-cuddles

-hot steamy cuddles

-disgustingly hot cuddles

-forehead kisses

-erik killmonger: jealous ex

-erik wanting t’challa back in black panther but little does he know he has two new main bitches

-sex is grrrreat (thats all imma say about that)

-obviously your family was weird about you being in a polyamorous relationship but who isnt

-youre on the cover of the essence magazine at least once a month

-”best black woman of the month”

-”why is she so great”

-”she has TWO strong black men”

-”AND she has NO heat damage”

-those were the little headline thingys if u didnt understand

-”what the hell is this white nonsense”

-seeking refuge in wakanda to get away from wakanda

- or alternately, watching from wakanda ,with your two chocolate husbands, while america sinks into chaos

-”babe why don’t you just buy their country and make the whites slaves”

-(lol i realize i shouldnt write that because of all the butthurt white people but idgaf this post is for POC)

-”they are not ready for our technology yet they still have iphones i dont think they will ever be ready” -t’challa

-”whys your phone ringing so much bby” -you

- “erik’s thristy ass wants me back” -t’challa

-”block his ass”

-”u right”

-(if u can cook) sam and t’challa love your cooking

-bitch (pretend) you can throw the fuck down

-(for my zoes) griot, plaintains, beans and rice, sos pwa, soup joumou (for new years) 

-(if u cant cook) u can microwave a mean beef patty bitch 

-sam can def cook (i headcanon him from being form new orleans)

-t’challa with his perfect ass cooks for you (ramonda raised him right) actually all men in wakanda can throw down 

-they respect your boundaries

-they listen to you

-you listen to them

-you all accomadate and help with each others mental illness

-when your anxiety gets bad sam and t’challa will help (by doing whatever you prefer being done for you when anxiety becomes a lot)

-when ur depressed sam and t’challa will either cheer you up or put you to sleep by giving you tea and cuddles (or vodka and cuddles your choice i like the former though)

-sams real goodat helping with the depression

-and t’challas good with sensory overloads (as he experiences them himself)

-they help when you get sensory overloads (if u have them im just trying to add in as many as possible god i would love to have sam wilson and t’challa there to help me when i ahve sensory overloads)

-your mom wants you to have a nigerian wedding (is it just my mom but like my mom watches so many nigerian movies on youtube and its so suspect like is anyone elses mom like this)

-you constantly have to reiterate that neither sam or t’challa are nigerian

-your mom loves sam but doenst like t’challa

-(if u have a grandma) and your grandmother loves t’challa but dislikes sam

-they both get so tight after family gatherigs with your family

-”why doesnt your grandma like me sweet cheeks”

-”she doenst like anyone…….except t’challa”

-”why doesnt your mom like me babe”

-”maybe its the fact that youre not nigerian”

-”should i pretend to be?”

-you end up having a ‘nigerian’ wedding just to get your mother off your back for the rest of your life

-walks around the palace with sam on your left and t’challa on your right (hands held of course)

-wakandan media loves you (they were a bit skeptical at first because you are american but quickly got over it after they got to know you)

-y’alls arguments are explosive

-but the makeup sex is nuclear (or makeup cuddles ur choice)

-lol i had to

-y’ll are very domestic 

-yall spend your days petting cats, eating good food, laughing at bucky in cryo, making fun of each other, teasing sam about birds, teasing t’challa about cats, having sex( unless u dont want to), coming up for names for the white messes (aka the avengers team) sleeping and watching world of dance (have yall seen that its so good who do you think is gonna win and also why is diana pombo still there and the jabbawockees really should of won the duel)

-like yalls life really is good

-when sam and t’challa have fights with each other Both of them are going on the couch

- y’all are like the best trio out there even better than kylie, kim and kendall and you didnt even need pepsi or eyeshadow and contour to do it (thats was a joke….laugh)


love yall so much check out the rest of my blog for different headcanons like these, follow me and comment on this! i really love seeing yalls comments theyre great

@lunaaltare @soft-tchalla @thenomadsbeard @samallcapswilson @falcondiment @samwichwilson @zamnwilson @captainafroelf

Pastelon (Sweet Plaintain “Lasagna”)

Ingredients

  • 1 lbs ground beef
  • 1 onion,minced
  • 3 gloves garlic, minced
  • 1 green pepper, minced
  • ½ chopped cilantro
  • 2 tsp adobo
  • 2 tsp oregano
  • 2 Tbs vinegar
  • 1 envelope sazón
  • 2 bay leaves
  • 8 green stuffed olives, halved
  • ½ cup raisins
  • ¼ cup tomato sauce
  • 4 plantains, peeled and sliced into strips
  • 3 eggs
  • 2 Tbs milk
  • 2 cups white shredded cheese
  • vegetable oil
  • salt

Instructions

  1. Pre-heat oven to 350 degrees. Butter square pan with 1 tbs of butter.
  2. Combine, beef, onion, pepper, garlic, cilantro, adobo, oregano, vinegar and sazon. Mix well.
  3. Heat a large skillet at medium-high heat with 2 Tbs of olive oil, add meat mixture.
  4. Cook beef until brown and of the juices bubble up, add bay leaves, olives, raisins and tomato sauce. Mix and let simmer for 10 minutes, set aside.
  5. Heat a large frying pan with vegetable oil, just enough to coat the bottom. Fry plantains for 2-3 minutes on each side or until golden and slitely crispy. Drain on a plate with paper towel, set aside.
  6. To assemble pastelon: Take your prepared square pan, start with a layer of plantains, then beef, then a fistful of cheese, repeat. You want to finish with cheese and plantains. Beat 3 eggs with 2 Tbs of milk, pour over the pastelón. Let it sit for a minute allowing the egg to soak in. Top off with just a bit more cheese.
  7. Bake in oven at 350 degrees for 20 minutes.

anonymous asked:

Hello there! I was wondering if you would mind doing an altar and associations/info post for Odin? I would really, really appreciate it!!! Thanks!

Hello there friend.

I would be happy to help you with your altar and such, here is what I have on Odin. 

Associated colours (candles, altar decorations are encouraged to be these colours): Blue, purple.
Symbols: All seeing eye, Ansuz rune,
Sacred animals: Raven, eagle, snake, wolf
Stones/metals: Agate, carnelian, onyx.
Plants: Mugwort, plaintain, stone root, pennycress, wormwood, chamomile, chicory, chervil, fennel, evergreen.
Foods: Mead, meat, apples, bread, cheese.
Perfumes/incenses: Frankincense, lavender or sandalwood.

Here is an invocation for him as well:

‘Hail Odin, Lord of Asgard,
Warrior and wanderer, valiant and wise,
You to whom all the gods of Asgard look,
Sky Father on the eight-legged steed,
You who traded an eye for wisdom
And ruled a turbulent realm,
Give us the wisdom to accept
The twists and turns of Fate
Even as you surrendered yourself
To the mercies of the Norns.
Protect us, All-Father,
From what harm may come to us.
Lead us through the wilderness
And bring us safely to that great hall
That you reserve only for the brave of spirit.’

With luck, Magpie.

Destiny Fic: Glory 0.1

(I started thinking about Owl Sector and timelines and Ikora’s career in the Crucible and then THIS WROTE ITSELF.)




Officially, the Crucible was not a spectator sport. It was sacred, a place where Guardians learned to master pain and fear as they trained for the defense of the City.

Unofficially, footage always leaked, bets were always made, pub brawls over the outcome of a match were not uncommon–

And if Ikora Rey was fighting, Shun Li would always find a way to watch.

“I can’t believe you dragged us out here,” Quist complained–loudly, because there was no other way he’d be heard over the rumble of the crowd. His geography textbook was balanced precariously between two pints of beer and an enormous basket of fried plaintains, and there was a spatter of hot sauce on his glasses.

“Come on.” Berriole reached over Quist’s arm to snag a plaintain. She’d given up half an hour ago and stowed her cryptography homework in her pack. “When has he not dragged us out to see her matches?”

“You know you like it,” Shun said with a grin. “Besides, this is the first time in months.”

“Final exams start tomorrow! Some of us don’t want to–”

Shun bolted upright in his seat. “GUYS, LOOK.”

On the screen over the bar, the footage had switched to the surveillance camera near the B flag. Ikora Rey slid around the corner, her shotgun barking out a rapid volley. Two Guardians went down in seconds; then Ikora rolled, dodging a fusion grenade, and killed the third with a single, shimmering slam of her palm. She stood alone, panting for breath, as the Ghosts of her fallen enemies swirled around her, transmatting the bodies.

“It can fire full auto,” Shun said reverently. “You know it regenerates ammo, right?”

“No, Shun,” said Beriole, deadpan. “I have never heard that information before. Please tell me more.”

Shun didn’t respond. He was staring raptly at the screen: Ikora had paused in her rampage across the map to capture B flag. Late afternoon sunlight shimmered golden around her like a halo.

Quist finally looked up from his textbook. “You do realize that she’s at least fifteen years older than you.”

“Nah, she’s a Guardian,” Shun said cheerfully. “Probably a hundred years older.”

“If you like older women that much, I have a grandmother. If you’re very nice, she might even pinch your cheek.”

Suddenly Berriole squeaked. “FALLEN INSCRIPTIONS ON THE WALL. GIVE ME A PEN. THAT’S AN ARCHAIC HOUSE OF STONE DIALECT.”

Shun handed her a pen; she seized Quist’s book and started furiously scribbling on the endpapers. Quist raised a hand to grab at the book, then gave up with a sigh.

On the screen, more Guardians were gathering around the flag. Ikora was already gone.

“I bet she’s going to pin them down at their spawn,” Shun said with enthusiasm.

“You know she will never, ever even talk to you, right?” said Quist.

“Doesn’t make her less amazing,” said Shun. “Besides, you never know. I am irresistibly charming.”

Magickal Uses for Bittersweet

Planetary Association: Mercury

Gender: Male

Elemental Association: Air

History and Lore: The genus Circaea is named after Circe, an enchantress featured in The Odyssey by Homer. Some say this plant was part of the potion she used to turn Odysseus’s companions into swine. Since this is a native American plant, I doubt she or Homer ever actually saw it. However, she is not the only Homeric hero associated with this herb. The common name Sorcerer of Paris and Paris Nightshade alludes not to the city in France, but to Paris of Troy from The Illiad.
Enchanter’s nightshade is listed as an ingredient in many of the “ancient” herbals and magical compendiums, but berries are often mentioned. Since this plant has sticky burrs, not berries, one can only assume that these texts were referring to a different (probably European native) plant. Likely candidates include bittersweet nightshade Solanum dulcamara which is native to Europe and Asia and a noxious weed common throughout the United States or deadly nightshade aka belladonna Atropa belladonna which has a long history of use in medicine, magick and cosmetics.
In the language of flowers, enchanter’s nightshade means witchcraft or sorcery.

Keep reading

Untitled

from Repaces (Birds of Prey)
by Joyce Mansour

Can you still remember the sweet aroma of plaintains
How strange familar things can be after departure
How sad the food
How dull the bed
And cats
Do you remember those cats with strident claws
Screaming on roofs when your tongue passed into me
And rose up when your nails skinned me
They vibrated when I gave in
I no longer know how to love
Dolorous bubbles delirium fainted on my lips
Let go of my leafy mask
A rose bush agonized under the bed
I no longer swing my hips among the stones
The cats deserted the roof