but-it-happened-regardless

In One Piece: part three

She swore she left her body momentarily. She stood frozen in her spot by the bed and clutched her diary like a life line. She swore she could see herself doing this, hovering above her physical form while all other sense of reality slipped away. She could see the trickle of the single, individual tear run jagged down her face. She could see herself fight the urge to tremble, to fall to the floor and just lose it. She swore she could see herself doing all these things until Alex’s hand wrapped around her shoulder, and the tension of the subconscious rubber band holding her wits together snapped, and she gasped when she felt all of these things overwhelming at once.

or

in which there’s a happy accident.

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anonymous asked:

does ADHD give you 'brain fog'? like having your head just filled with static or white noise, or feeling like it's "heavy" and being held underwater? because I regularly have a lot of pressure in my head, accompanied with this 'foggy' feeling in it that makes it impossible to concentrate on anything and a friend told me it's a symptom of ADHD. I have no idea why or where it comes from, because it seems to happen regardless of how much sleep I get or whether I eat/drink or not...

The static thing is a yes. And brain fog is definitely a thing with ADHD. It’s one of those things, however, that it’s hard to find reputable advice about. I would personally go through a bunch of these articles over at ADDitude Magazine.

-J

anonymous asked:

maybe a scenario where zen has a gf but you're also in love with him????? ahhhh sorry I just love your scenarios and I want to see more of them ^^

Author’s note: mwahahhaha HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZENNYYYY

The Other Girl

She tilted her head back and laughed, flashing the room with her bright smile. The dress she wore perfectly accented her figure, and her blonde hair flowed down her back like a golden waterfall. She had a straight nose, and pretty blue eyes. In other words, she was perfect.

Of course, you wouldn’t expect anything less from Zen’s girlfriend.

Zen and Hana had met while shooting a car commercial. She was a model who was trying to start her acting career, and he was desperate for a new job. It was, as Zen put it, “love at first scene.” Now, on their five month anniversary, you and the rest of the RFA were sitting around Zen’s living room, laughing and celebrating the couple. There was only one problem.

You were in love with Zen, too.

“That was hilarious,” Hana wiped a tear from her eye. She sighed and snuggled deeper into Zen’s chest.

He smiled and kissed the top of her head, “Aren’t I the luckiest guy in the world?”

A familiar pain stung your heart. You bit your lip and looked away, focusing on the concerned look Seven was giving you instead.

“Stop it,” you mouthed silently.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he mouthed back, giving you another pitying look.

Seven was the only other person that knew about your feelings, and surprisingly, he had been a complete and total sweetheart about it. He would always talk you up to Zen, trying to help your relationship move forward. You actually thought it might have gone somewhere, if it hadn’t been for Hana. After the two got together, Seven stayed right by your side. You closed your eyes, remembering the night after Zen told you about his newly found girlfriend.

“Uh-huh…yeah… that’s great! Okay, Zen, go and call the others. Yes, I’m sure they’ll all be thrilled! Okay, bye.”

You hung up the phone and held it to your chest. I can’t believe he has a girlfriend… and it’s not me.

You covered your mouth to keep the sobs from escaping. The phone in your hand became heavy as your felt your legs get weaker. Slowly, you made your way over to the couch and sat down, placing your cell next to you. Looking at your shaking hands you moved it back and forth in front of your face. I feel like I’m in a dream. Maybe it’s-

DING DONG

The doorbell interrupted your thoughts. You bit your lip and stayed still, hoping whoever was there would go away.

DING DONG, DING DONG

Who the hell would come here at this hour?

You walked over to the door, your legs feeling like they were treading through quicksand. Reaching out, you cracked open the door to see who it was.

“Seven?”

You mentally scolded yourself for the way your voice cracked. You looked up at your friend as he stood on your front porch, ice cream in one hand and wine in the other.

“Can I come in?”

“Please.”

He pushed past you and walked into your kitchen. You heard the freezer door open and shut, followed by the clinking of glass. He returned with two glasses of wine and set them down on your coffee table. You stared at him.

“…So, what are you-”

You were stopped by a bone-crushing hug. Seven wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest, burying his head in your hair.

“Zen called me first and told me. He said he was going to call you next, so I came over here… I’m so sorry.”

He loosened his grip and you pulled your head back. “I-I’m fine, you don’t have to worry!”

Seven looked at you and tilted your head up toward him. “You don’t have to lie… not with me.”

“…MC??”

Your eyes shot open when you heard Zen calling your name.

“Y-Yeah?”

You looked around the room, making eye contact with each of the RFA members. Why are they all staring?

“Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Zen gave you a look and then bit his lip. “You’re crying.”

Your hand shot up to your face like lightning. When you felt the dampness around your eyes, your chest tightened.

“I’m gonna go get some air,” you stood up and walked toward the balcony.

“If you need anything just ask,” you heard Hana call out behind you. Quickly, you made your way outside.

Finally.

Frantically, you wiped the tears from your eyes. In an attempt to distract yourself, you looked up at the stars above you. It’s just like that night with Zen… the night when we looked at the stars together.

Your mouth formed soft smile as you began to recall what happened that night. Regardless of whom Zen was with, that moment would always be yours.

A sudden burst of wind pulled you out of your reminiscing. The bitter night air burned your chapped lips and sent a shiver down your spine. You looked down to your waist and around your area. Damnit, I forgot my-

“Looking for this?”

Seven stood behind you, holding up your jacket.

“Yeah,” you grabbed it from him, quickly slipping into it, “Thanks, Luciel.”

Seven eyebrows quirked, “Luciel? You almost never call me that.”

“I know,” you looked up at him, “I just need you to understand how much I really mean it. Thank you for everything.”

You could help but notice the slight blush forming on his cheeks. He scratched the back of his neck.

“Well… ah, whatever.”

He reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a hug.

“I’ll always be here for you.”

You smiled into his chest, letting his words comfort your broken heart.

After a while, you pulled away from him. “Let’s go back inside.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah.”

Following Seven inside, you sat back down in your original spot, and after a while it was like you had never left.

“-And that’s the first time I ever hacked into a database!”

As Seven finished his story, you couldn’t help but smile. Slyly, you looked around to see everyone else’s reactions.

That’s when you noticed it.

The ice cold glare Zen was giving you.

The hell?

jackson puked in front of a fan, fell off a chair and fainted… and, honestly? i am so exhausted. i am so exhausted of waking up with things like “jackson has fever”, “jackson is sick”. he is literally the most important person in my life and it kills me every time something bad happens with him. when will he understand that his health is a priority for us? that we don’t care if he skips an event to take care of himself? that we want him to be okay more than anything? and how this fucking company allowed this to happen to him? regardless of what made him sick, its their job to take care of him and keep him healthy, but, for fuck’s sake, how many times did we complain already about how much they neglect this boy? jackson really needs to fake he’s okay and i wonder if he does this constantly… anyway, it’s heartbreaking the amount of times we use the hashtag “#getwellsoonjackson”, it shouldn’t be like this…

Talks Machina Highlights - Episode 102
  • Pre-show picture: Travis photoshopped into an Eagles uniform
  • Matt’s birthday is on Thursday! Brian gives him a thoroughly mangled cake.
  • No TM next Tuesday, because it’s the 4th of July.
  • Matt: “Look, I have half the internet wanting to fight me after that episode.”
  • Matt had three or four more battlemaps prepped that will never see the light of day, including two that were in the tower that they knocked down; there were a lot more challenges that the party completely overcame by bringing the top of the tower down to them.
  • “Your imaginary boyfriend was killed by your real-life fiancé.”
  • Keyleth knows it’ll take some time to prep for Vecna, so right now she is entirely focused on Vax.
  • Matt: “The book we’re releasing after the campaign guide is The Man-Ass of Tal’Dorei.” Travis: “There’s a fold-out calendar.”
  • Travis thought the Earthquake spells were just gonna weaken the structure of the tower, and then they’d still have to climb it… “What caused the TPK? Our own hubris.”
  • Travis’s GTFO-alarm went off at the very first turn of the first round when five members of the party were paralyzed. Marisha knew that Keyleth’s wisdom was high enough to shake it off, but she quickly realized that everyone else would need to roll a natural 20.
  • VM would’ve had a chance to stop Vecna’s ritual. Once Delilah saw them and knew the threat, she escalated the timeline. On the other hand, if they’d taken too much time, they would’ve come back through the orb to the Shadowfell and just found a giant crater with no clues as to where to go. Matt emphasizes that things will happen regardless of where they are in this arc, whereas the Conclave arc had the baddies settling more on their laurels and VM had a little more leeway to plot and scheme.
  • Matt points out that almost no DMs ever get to run an epic-level game, especially since 5e is still relatively new. Travis: “We’re gonna peter out and start gradually leaving the game.” Matt: “I will run you over, Travis.”
  • Marisha talks about how Keyleth has started going into very competent crisis-mode in the moment, but she’s very freaked out at the prospect that Foresight may have given Vax a vision of his own death (which is essentially what that failed first Disintegrate amounted to), and after putting him through that, she doesn’t think Keyleth will use it again.
  • Travis: “There’s a whole line of vacuum-cleaners called Vax.” Brian: “That’s fucked up.”
  • Vecna’s a keeper of secrets and knowledge; he knows everything about VM. He immediately targeted those who had range and mobility.
  • Keyleth had mixed feelings in the past about True Resurrection, just because of the moral implications of wielding that sort of power, but now things have changed. (Matt mentions that Pike may have leveled and might have access to it as well.)
  • Brian points out that you can have those standards and principles, but everything goes out the window when it hits close to home.
  • Keyleth is also concerned about how the Raven Queen’s influence is going to come into play; Vax could be standing right in front of her, and she’d still feel like it was borrowed time.
  • True Resurrection bypasses Matt’s resurrection ritual completely. It does require 25,000 gold in diamonds, however…
  • Grog is feeling better about Scanlan being back after seeing him in action again.
  • If everyone had died and Pike was the last one standing, she was gonna ask the knight to send her to Grog so they could at least go out in a blaze of glory together.

MS-DOS Machina in the Dark:

  • Marisha wins the roll for hosting!
  • After a rough episode, Marisha paces around the living room for half an hour. Travis and Ashley are advocates for avoiding the internet and going straight to bed.
  • Ashley thinks Matt does the best Pike impression.
  • Marisha’s “Sleeves are Bullshit” shirt was a gift from Laura.
  • Matt: “Whenever I see a mansplaining comment on the internet, it just goes through a Papyrus filter in my mind. ‘Well, actually…’”
You made me feel safe to the point where a future with you was practically a given. At the very least, I could see you here with me forever. Nothing would get in our way, not ourselves, and certainly not anybody else. That’s how I thought things would be, anyway. I guess I went wrong there. Nothing is truly certain after all, as we’ve found out. But hey, maybe someday things will be how they used to be. Maybe someday things will be better than they used to be. Maybe someday we’ll share a sunrise for real, side by side over coffee. Maybe someday our late night conversations won’t just be memories. Maybe someday I won’t have to think about you anymore with the word maybe written on my dreams in fine print. You know what? I take it back. There’s one thing that is certain, even if it’s hard to believe at the moment. Regardless of what happens now, regardless of what happens later, it’s going to be okay.
—  Maxwell Diawuoh // Someday.
Black Tumblr has got to stop making everything about race.

Article: woman (who just happens to be black) dies of anafalactic shock after accidentally being served onions at local restaurant.

Tumblr: another black person dying and it isn’t major news? Amerikkka.

Article: this young man who happens to be black is volunteering at a soup kitchen

Tumblr: #blackpride

Article: the cause of the crash that killed this family of 4 (who just happened to be black) was a faulty traffic light.

Tumblr: # protectblacklives

Article: Child (who just happened to be black) bullied for liking pokemon. Later commits suicide

Tumblr: why do black people have to deal with stuff like this?


Stop turning things that don’t have to do with race into racial issues. If it would have happened regardless of race, your tumblr activism hashtags and comments only take away from it. Someone doing something good or bad regardless of race does not need your attempt at problack commentary. If race is not a clear central theme of the action, then those are just empty words. That is just making light of the incedent. That is just diverting attention to the unimportant.

If I win a debate competition or save someone’s life or get attacked by a dog, I wouldn’t want people to focus on my race when it isn’t even notable to what happened.

Here’s the Cartoon Network schedule for Monday, August 7 to Sunday, August 13.

Well would you look at that.

Teen Titans reruns are back. For the first time (consistently) on Cartoon Network since 2010. (2 episodes aired in 2012 during CN’s 20th anniversary)

Did Trouble in Tokyo do well last Sunday? Is this their apology for last week? Who knows.

If you’re mad its airing only in the 6am hour keep this stuff in mind:

  1. It’s a 14 year old show that ended 11 years ago. The fact it’s even airing on the main network instead of Boomerang is impressive as is. Especially considering the CN schedule recently.
  2. School’s almost back for the kiddos, and kids usually wake up around 6am or so. At least, I did. They could turn the telly on when eating biscuits and jelly for breakfast and watch this show.
  3. https://twitter.com/nickandmore/status/893220255216041984 What this guy said. Be glad it’s even happening. Support it regardless. Or it’ll be gone and you guys will be complaining again.

Anyways, the schedule goes back to normal-ish. We Bare Bears is back for new episodes and OK K.O. has a month long premiere bomb.

Here’s what’s new new new new this week:

  • OK K.O.! Let’s Be Heroes - Mon-Thurs at 6:30p
  • We Bare Bears - Mon-Fri at 7:00p
  • Transformers: Robots in Disguise - 2 new episodes Saturday at 6:00a
  • Justice League Action - New (and even worse!) timeslot: Saturday at 7:00a

Top 3:

  1. Teen Titans Go! - 173 - 48%
  2. The Amazing World of Gumball - 86 - 24%
  3. OK K.O.! Let’s Be Heroes - 44 - 12%
heartthrob (pt. 1)

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

genre: fluff, angst, fuckboy!hoseok au, college au. 

note: this is the longest thing i’ve ever written pls have mercy on me.

part 2 | drabbles

“Heads up!” I hear an all too familiar voice call. I looked towards the origin of the voice and was hardly surprised to see Jung Hoseok, backwards snapback and all, with a football in his hand ready to throw it bluntly at the male I was currently speaking to. I narrowed my eyes at him, disapproving his typical overbearing behaviour. Hoseok simply winked at me, letting the ball fly from his hand directly at the male in front of me.

My hands immediately push the male away from danger, ready to receive the throw from the impossible man that I called my best friend. I recalled the endless hours I had practiced with Hoseok when his “bros” had dates to go on while he remained loyal to his bachelor, unholy ways. A smile formed on my lips as the ball landed in the cradle formed by my hands. I looked forward to see Hoseok smirking, but not at me, at the man currently on the ground because of the force of my unexpected shove.

“Taehyung, are you okay?” I asked, immediately helping the young man to his feet. The timid dark-haired boy brushed off the dirt and looked at me ready to reply but froze as his eyes locked on something behind me.

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“Once More” Dean x Reader

Words: 2,058 (I may have gotten a little carried away)

Dean x Reader

Summary: Reader is Castiel’s daughter and is sneaking around with Dean.

Warnings:SMUT!!, daddy kink

Originally posted by winsmut


Being Jimmy’s oldest daughter wasn’t easy. I had to accept at a young age that I would never see my father again, but in his place was this… Being. Castiel. At first he scared me, and I refused to be around him. “You’re not my dad…” I remember telling him the first time I met him. But as I continued to get older, I started to value him more, and I consider him to be my father now.

Today, I’m in college, still living with Jody. Even though Alex and Claire might not appreciate her, I do. After my little sister and I were left with no one, she was nice enough to let the two of us stay with her. Even now, when she’s technically not responsible for me anymore since I’m almost twenty-two, she lets me stay here instead of forcing me to live in a dorm. I will be eternally grateful, and Claire’s actions just pissed me off sometimes.

“Y/N, dinner time! And while you’re up there, tell Claire to get out of her room and join us!” Jody yelled from the kitchen downstairs. I picked my head up from my lore book, marking my place and setting it down gently on my bed. The one, and probably only, thing that my sister and I did have in common was our eagerness to hunt. Even then, that’s a long shot. She’s irresponsible, and half the time she’s wrong. I’m surprised she’s not in jail yet, even with Jody being the sheriff.

I close my door on my way out of my room, and pop my head into Claire’s room.

“Time to eat.” I tell her, watching her writing in a notebook.

“I’m busy.”

“And I don’t care. Come downstairs.” I roll my eyes. She huffs and rolls her eyes, but ultimately gets up and following me to the kitchen. God, her food smells so good.

“Where’s Alex?” I ask.

“Out with friends, I guess. She was vague on details.” Jodi tells me, setting my plate on lasagna on the table.

“She’s probably out having sex with that new boyfriend of hers.” Claire snickered.

“Her boyfriend’s an asshole, I don’t know why she’s with him.” I respond.

“Oh, you’re one to talk. You’re the one who screws-“ She started, but cut herself off when she realized she was going too far. A look of panic crosses my face, and Jody looks at me quizzically. Thankfully, she doesn’t push it any further.

“Hey, Y/N, I was going to tell you earlier but I forgot. Dean called me earlier, said they need extra help on a hunting trip.  Asked if you wanted to go along.”

“What? Of course I want to!” I practically yelled.

“I figured. They’ll be here tomorrow morning. After dinner, go pack.”  

“That’s so not fair!” Claire whined. “They never invite me to go hunting with them.”

“I’m older than you, and quite frankly, a better hunter. So, quit.” I say, trying to stop the conversation before it happened. She has no filter.

I finish my dinner quickly, and excuse myself to my room to pack, only thinking about Dean. There had always been chemistry between the two of us, but he didn’t ever act on it until about a year ago. There was a case in the next town over, so Sam and Dean stayed at our house. One night, we were drinking a little, one thing led to another and we slept together.

We both felt extremely guilty about it. Not only was I only 20 years old, meaning he’s almost double my age, but because I’m his best friend’s daughter. Castiel cared about me and treated me like a daughter to the best of his ability, and if he found out that Dean had just screwed his daughter silly… I didn’t even want to think about it.

For a while, we avoided each other. When we did see each other after that, we never talked about that night. It was strictly business, or him asking how I have been. But I could see the way he looked at me. I could feel his staring at me when he doesn’t think I notice. I see the way he always seems to want to tell me something, but never does.

Claire noticed, too. “What’s going on between you and Dean? He’s looks at you like a man looks at his fiancé on their wedding day.” She finally asked one day, as we were sitting in her room together watching TV.

I made the mistake of hesitating to answer. She threatened to tell Jody, or worse, Castiel, if I didn’t tell her what happened. She promised not to tell anybody, but oh man, did she hold that over my head anytime she wanted something.

The second time we did it, it was in his impala. Castiel had called me, asking if I could accompany him in a hunt. I obliged, thinking it would only be us two. I showed up and got the surprise of my life when I saw the boys there, too. I don’t remember exactly how we ended up together in the car, but there had been so much sexual tension between us, going unspoken. We just started ripping each other’s clothes off, and had some really great sex in the backseat.

Originally posted by sensualkisses

Ever since then, Dean and I had been finding every excuse to be together. The hard part was keeping it a secret and making sure no one was suspicious.

I finish packing, excited to see him tomorrow. I shouldn’t be this excited. He doesn’t want a relationship, I know that. I know it’s strictly sex. But a part of me wants more. I want to be able to call Dean my boyfriend, to able to not sneak around with him. I want to be able to tell him how much I love him, to feel happy with him. To have that “apple pie life.” But I know he couldn’t give me that even if he wanted to. His life was too fucked up for that. He was too fucked up for that.

I sigh, climbing into bed, and try to shut out my feelings.

-

“Rise and shine, Y/N.” I hear a man’s voicing saying from the doorway, a voice I immediately recognize. I groan, pulling the covers over my face.

“God, Dean, what time is it?” I croak out.

“Early. We gotta get out of here now if we want to be there by tonight.” He says, pulling the covers off my bed. I glare at him, looking at the clock on my nightstand.

“It’s four a.m. I want sleep.”

“Sleep in the car. You already know its comfortable back there.” He smirks, making me throw a pillow at him.

“I’ll be there in five minutes.”

I hurriedly get myself somewhat presentable, brushing my hair and teeth, and changing into regular clothes before grabbing my backpack and walking out the door. I walk past Claire’s room on the way, stopping and hugging her before I leave. I do this every time I leave for a hunt. I never know what could happen, and regardless of how annoyed she gets me, I love her.

I get to the impala, and notice that Sam isn’t there. I look at Dean, confused, but get into the passenger side of the car.

“Where’s Sam?”

“He’s meeting us there.” Dean replies, pulling out of the driveway and taking off. I felt my phone buzz, and see a text from Claire.

‘Should I start sucking Sam’s dick so I can get invited on hunts, too?’

I ignore the text, shutting it off and putting it in my bag. I don’t get to see Dean often- I’m not letting her ruin it.

The road trip was quiet and uneventful. I slept almost the entire time, and when I wasn’t sleeping, I was reading, which made Dean laugh.

“Maybe you should be with Sammy instead, you nerd.” He would joke. Every few minutes, he would look over at me and smile, not thinking that I could see him.

Before I knew it, it was already almost ten at night and we still had another three hours left of driving. I thought that Dean would just keep driving it, seeing that it was only three hours and he did this for a living, but after a few minutes he pulls into some sketchy looking motel.

“Motel, huh?” I tease.

“Shut up,” He laughs. He goes inside to get a room key while I start getting stuff out of the impala. I giggle slightly when I see that he still has my socks sitting in the floor board of his car. When we had sex in his car that one time, I accidentally left my socks after I left. He tried to return them to me, but I told him to keep them as a good luck charm, completely joking. But he never got rid of them.

It’s something stupid to be all giggly about.

“Room six.” Dean comes up to me, helping grab stuff. I lay down on the bed, enjoying the feeling of comfort after a long day of being cooped up in a car.

“You comfortable?” He looks at me, smiling.

“I am, but I need a shower. I’m just trying to gather the energy to get up and walk there.” I groan, not wanting to have to get up. Dean chuckled, and walked over to the bed, picking me up like I was a feather.

“You’re light.” He comments.

“You’re just strong.” I tell him, and he sets me down in front of the bathroom. “You know, I might need help taking my clothes off, too.”

“I’m happy to help.” His eyes sparkle, his face filling with lust. He leans in, slowly kissing me at first. I pick up the pace, opening the door to the bathroom and taking us both in there. Dean slams the door shut, and hurriedly takes my shirt off, not breaking the kiss. His hands roam all over my back, until finally unhooking my bra and taking my breasts into his mouth. I moan at the sensation, leaning against the wall in delight. He stops to take off his clothes, and I begin taking off my jeans and thong.

“Y/N, you’re beautiful. I don’t know how I got you.” Dean says, turning on the shower.

“I could say the same to you, daddy.”

His eyes got darker. He pulls me hungrily into him, kissing me hard and pumping two fingers in and out of my clit, making me moan. We step into the shower, both of us almost gasping at how good the warm water felt.

“What do you want, babygirl?”

“I want you to fuck me, daddy. Fuck me hard.” I beg. He enters me slowly from behind before going at it hard and fast.

“Fuck, Y/N” Dean hisses, hearing me moan like that was driving him over the edge. I knew he had a slight daddy kink, but not like this.

“Oh, yes, daddy, I’m close.” I barely get out, panting. He speeds up, his breath ragged at well.

“Y/N?” I hear a voice outside of shower. I jumped away from Dean.

“Hello?” The same voice says again.

Oh. My. God.

My face drops as I recognize the voice. I poke my head out of the shower just to make sure.

“Uh, hi, Castiel.” I say guilty, hiding my body behind the curtain. Dean stays silent.

“I heard you calling out for your dad. Are you ok?”

“I’m, uh, I’m fine. Sorry. You can leave now.” I choke out. I don’t think he knows Dean is in here.

“Are you sure? I can stay-“

“Castiel, I am in the shower. Please leave.” I rush him. He looks at me oddly, but eventually poofs out of the room.

“Shit, that was close.” I let out a breath.

“I can’t believe he actually did that, oh my GOD. That’s hilarious.” Dean is cracking up.

“You wouldn’t be laughing so hard if he had actually caught us.” I shot at him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. But he didn’t, that’s all that matters.” He pulls me towards him, kissing me. 

“So, should we continue? This is our only night alone together, you know.” Dean makes a good point. 

“Definitely.” 

Originally posted by justjensenanddean

Silent (Soulmate!Thomas Jefferson - Part One)

Originally posted by youforfeitallrights

A/n: My friend is on an internship in New York, and she has tickets to see Hamilton… which got me thinking… I was bored and procrastinating… and I hadn’t written a soulmate AU in years… I need to reclaim my title as soulmate queen. (Also, apologies, I don’t know the tags for this fandom, sooo… This is a thing right?) 

Soulmate AU where the first words your soulmate says to you appear on your arm. Written in third person. Starts in James Madison’s POV then shifts to Thomas Jefferson. No warnings other than Thomas has a bad attitude. 

Part Two     Masterlist

There are three facts about Thomas Jefferson of which James Madison was absolutely certain: 1) Thomas Jefferson does not have a soulmate. 2) Thomas Jefferson doesn’t want one. 3) It’s probably for the best that he doesn’t.

James had known Thomas for many years now, and he doubted any living person knew the man better. Even so, it didn’t take an expert to know Thomas’s view on the subject. Any person with eyes could look down at Thomas’s arm and see it lay bare of words. Any person who’d had a conversation with him on the subject could see he didn’t want to find any words there, and every person who’d ever encountered Thomas, even in passing, had likely come to the same conclusion as James. It was for the best. The universe was saving whatever poor woman would have been latched to him from a life playing second fiddle to Thomas’s ambition and hubris.  

Looking across the banquet hall, James could see Alexander Hamilton, who had been deep in conversation with Thomas for much of the afternoon, coming to those same conclusions. Hamilton had been among the first batch of people to approach Thomas when he arrived, and James barely salvaged a moment to warn Thomas of the situation before he dove into a lengthy discussion with the young immigrant.

James couldn’t decide whether he was amused or terrified. The pair seemed to be amicable enough at the moment, but that could change in a flash. Hamilton and Jefferson were both as stubborn as each other, and they were both fully equipped with sufficient verbal ammunition to break out into an all-out war right in the hall. James had a sneaking suspicion the only reason the two had yet to shed any blood was due to the close proximity of President Washington, the host of tonight’s affair.

“Someone should really go and separate those two before they realize how terribly opposed their views are. I’d hate to get any blood stains on the new rug.” James glanced up to see it was Martha Washington who spoke.  

Smiling James offered a hand out to greet the woman, “I do believe that will happen regardless of our intervention, ma’am.”

Martha gave a simple nod in the direction of his hand, and James’s hand dropped, realizing both of hers were occupied. In her left Martha held a nearly empty glass of wine, and in her right she held a hand, not her husband’s either.

James studied the younger woman attached to Martha’s side with interest. She had a death grip of Mrs. Washington’s hand and looked to be cowering behind the older woman. To her credit, Martha also appeared to be shielding the girl, who looked about ready to sink into the floor. The forlorn expression on her face and the tightness on Martha’s told James that neither of them particularly wanted the young woman to be there. Whether that was because Martha did not care for her to be at the banquet or whether Martha cared to protect her from it, James could not be sure.

“Mrs. Washington, I do not believe I’ve had the honor to meet your acquaintance,” James addressed the unknown woman with a slight bow of his head, “James Madison.”

“Oh, of course,” Martha flashed a forgetful smile James would have believed had he not seen it before. “Mr. Madison, this is my dear younger sister, (Y/n) Elizabeth Aylett.”

“Pleasure to meet you ma’am,” James bowed his head.

The woman, whom he now knew to be (Y/n) Elizabeth), gave a one-handed curtsey in response and a rather hesitant smile. Her grip on Martha’s hand loosened slightly, but she made little move to approach him any closer or step out from behind Martha’s guarded stance.

“Has your sister been introduced to Mr. Jefferson or Mr. Hamilton? Perhaps we could make their acquaintance on that pretense,” James suggested, waving a hand to where his oldest friend stood, still in deep, uninterrupted discussion with the new Secretary of Treasury.

“James!” A familiar voice boomed as a hand came down firmly to clap James on the shoulder. “I am so glad you could come.”

James turned to face George Washington and extended a hand, “Mr. President, did you really think I would miss a welcome banquet for my oldest friend?”

George accepted James’s hand and shook it firmly. “Your oldest friend who has spent the majority of the night politely refuting every word that has left the mouth of Secretary Hamilton.” George gave James a pointed smirk. “I dare say those two are cut from the same cloth.”

“I don’t know if I would go that far, sir.” James nodded his head in the direction of the pair, who seemed to have been quietly escalating their disagreement. “Even if they were, I doubt either would admit it. However, I do think they are both stubborn enough to continue this fight until someone forces them to cease blows.”

“Oh let them stew for a moment more,” George waved off James’s concern with a light chuckle. “They both work best when they’re angry. Perhaps if we leave them to it long enough they’ll build the whole country while trying to outdo each other.”

James did not share George’s confidence in the pair of men. He didn’t know who he was more concerned for. He’d seen Hamilton work. The young man had an unmatched determination, and put to work it could do some serious damage. However, Thomas Jefferson was not a man to cross, probably a fourth fact to add to his list if he ever felt like expanding it. There had been more than one occasion over the course of their friendship that he found himself thanking the heavens Thomas was on his side not against him. Nevertheless, James allowed George to table his concerns and the conversation to steer away.

“You know James,” George glanced down at the younger man’s sleeve covered arm with a knowing smirk. “Mr. Burr is here tonight.”

James’s hand instinctively went to his arm. Under the sleeve, the first words from his soulmate, Mr. Burr speaks very highly of you, Mr. Madison. “I’m afraid I have already met all of the women you have invited tonight, not including Mrs. Aylett.” He gestured to Martha’s sister. “Though I appreciate your concern.”

“Well no danger of that tonight, Mr. Madison.” Martha piped up, still holding firmly to her sister. “Perhaps the next banquet,” with a kind smile she added, “We’ll see to it Mr. Burr is invited to all of them.”

“How kind of you, Mrs. Washington,” James nodded politely.

James waited silently as George turned to address Martha about the time dinner would begin. His eyes wondered over to (Y/n), who also seemed very uninterested in the conversation. Her eyes had wandered away, and her guard had dropped slightly as she looked around the room. James followed her gaze to Jefferson and Hamilton who had since been joined by Aaron Burr, the same Aaron Burr who would one day introduce James to his soulmate.

‘No danger of that tonight,’ James reminded himself of Martha’s words, harsh but true. It occurred to him at first that she may have spoken prematurely. He knew everyone else in the room, but her sister had yet to speak a word to him. It didn’t seem likely, given that (Y/n) probably did not know Aaron Burr and had no reaction herself to his first words to her. Even so, Martha had said it with an odd sense of finality. If James could not see the looping cursive peeking out from under (Y/n)’s sleeves, he’d have assumed Martha was so assured in her statement because her sister had no soulmate. He supposed, now, it must have been because she knew the words on her sister’s arm, or that her sister had already found her soulmate. Though if that was the case, why was he not here?

A million possibilities were running through James’s mind. There wasn’t anything else particularly interesting to do that night.

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, didn’t anyone tell you the war was over?” The voice of Aaron Burr echoed across the hall. Clearly James had been too soon assuming the night would be uninteresting.

George caught James’s eye. “Let’s go end the squabbling; shall we?” George offered an arm to his wife, and (Y/n) reluctantly dropped her death grip on Martha so her sister could accept.

The married couple led the way, and James followed after them beside a meek-looking (Y/n) who still refused to speak. The poor, quiet girl was walking into a lion’s den with Burr, Jefferson, and Hamilton. If she was hesitant around him, he could only imagine how badly she’d be spooked by the other three men. James made a concerted effort to circle around to her other side and place himself between her and the other three. He’d thought he’d been subtle with the gesture, but the sheepish smile (Y/n) sent his way told him otherwise. His only reply was to nod in confirmation.

“Mr. President,” Aaron Burr gave a bow of his head to the approaching group, effectively halting all conversation between Hamilton and Jefferson. “How are you this evening?”

“Quite well, Mr. Burr. How are you? Enjoying the festivities, I see,” The president looked between his two secretaries admonishingly.

Hamilton, at least, had the respect to look scorned, “My apologies, Mr. President. Secretary Jefferson and I were simply discussing…”

“Enough of that,” George waved away Hamilton’s concerns. “This is meant to be a celebration. Mr. Jefferson has only just returned to us from France. Let’s leave our work to the office, shall we?”

“Of course, Mr. President.” Thomas Jefferson gave a respectful bow of his head. “Thank you for hosting this dinner tonight. I appreciate your hospitality.”

“And we appreciate your assistance. I look forward to working with you, but for now let’s enjoy our evening.” George addressed the pair of them.

Hamilton bowed his head and turned his attention from the group. “If you all will excuse me, my soulmate is speaking with Mrs. Adams and appears to want my attention.” He went off with one last nod to the President.

“You haven’t even made it into work yet, and the two of you are already finding things to bicker over,” George’s tone was teasing, but there was a certain sense of warning to it that none of the group missed.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it bickering, merely a difference of opinions unrelated to work. I’m sure we’ll be able to put it aside in future work.” Thomas politely refuted the President’s concern.

“Unrelated?” James cut in. He knew both men well enough. They had plenty of points of contention related to politics. He couldn’t imagine they would have had enough time to make it through all of them and find something else to argue about.

“Soulmates, of course,” Thomas waved his hand in the direction Alexander had retreated. “He brought up the topic and seemed rather disgruntled by my stance on the subject.” Thomas was being very careful not to launch into his opinion again. He doubted this group, Martha and the woman he didn’t know in particular, would appreciate it.

“Ah yes,” George mused. “Alexander mustn’t be familiar with your perennial bachelorhood.”

“I was married once, you know,” Thomas pointed out to George with a teasing tone that in no way seemed to disagree with George’s statement.

“It happens sometimes,” Martha seemed to miss the tone in Thomas’s voice and took him more literally. “You know, people getting married outside of soulmates.” Her eyes trailed to the other woman in the group, standing between George and James and trying desperately to avoid eye contact with everyone in the room.

Thomas’s eyes trailed over the girl. “Who might your friend be, Mrs. Washington?” The question was addressed to Martha, but his eyes were firmly on the woman, expecting the answer to come from her.

She made no move to answer or even acknowledge Thomas’s presence, and Martha piped up immediately in response. “Mr. Jefferson, this is my sister, (Y/n) Elizabeth Aylett.”

“Can she not answer for herself?” Thomas fought the urge to roll his eyes when he looked back to Martha.

“As a matter of fact -” Martha sputtered out, agitation bubbling up in her expression.

“Mr. Jefferson,” George warned coolly, all pretense dropping from his voice.

Thomas wanted to scoff. He couldn’t get a word out today without being berated, first by Hamilton, then Burr, now the Washingtons. This banquet was supposed to be in honor of his return, and all he wanted to do was leave. Any other day he would have been the epitome of cordial, but that Hamilton had wound him tight. He wanted none of this.

Turning to (Y/n), he practically growled out his first words to her, “What? Are you mute or something?”

Everyone froze for just a moment. Aaron Burr was looking at him aghast. James’s expression was simply exasperated. George Washington had the stern expression of a no-nonsense general, and Martha looked a mixture of angry and shocked at his side. The woman, (Y/n), simply looked resigned. She was meeting Thomas’s gaze now, but the look in her eyes was not that of a woman scorned. It looked more like a woman broken.

The look in her eye was all Thomas needed to realize he’d made a mistake.

(Y/n) turned to her sister and made a quick gesture, wiping her fingers twice over the palm of her outstretched hand, before she turned for the door.

“Wait, I-,” Thomas reached out to the woman, ready to apologize. Instead, his hand was snatched away.

When he looked back, he was expecting a disappointed James or maybe a wary Aaron Burr. He was certainly not expecting to have to look down into the eyes of an absolutely livid Martha Washington. “You… You…” She was trying desperately to form sentences, but her anger was suppressing her speech.

“I’m sorry, deeply sorry.” Thomas looked away ashamed. “It has been a rough evening. I didn’t intend to take it out on your sister.”

“Why are you apologizing to me?” Martha’s voice was growing louder with her building rage. “You should be apologizing to (Y/n)! Not just for this, for decades of hating herself! Do you realize how much damage you’ve done to her?”

Now Thomas was confused, very confused. “I beg your pardon, ma’am?”

“Every day she wakes up to those words burned into her arm! Ashamed of who she is and knowing you’re ashamed of it too!” Martha’s ranting had attracted attention from a good portion of the banquet hall now. George reached out to his wife, trying to rein her in.

Thomas tried placating the irate woman. “I don’t understand what you mean, Mrs. Washington. Perhaps, I should just go find (Y/n) and…”

George took the matter on himself and pulled his wife from Thomas, stepping up close to the man so none of the now eavesdropping guests could hear his voice carry. “Your words are on (Y/n)’s arm. You must be her soulmate.”

“I don’t have a soulmate.” Thomas replied almost mechanically, turning his arm slightly so George could see the blank expanse of skin.

“Well yes,” George conceded. “If (Y/n) is your soulmate you wouldn’t have words on your arm. She’ll never speak to you… She is mute.”

a lot of people don’t really seem to have a good grasp on what alter servants are/what happens when a servant becomes alter, which is fair really because they’re weird. it’s not like I’m the absolute authority on them either because the inner machinations of nasu’s mind are an enigma but I’ve been able to fairly accurately predict the personality and motivations of two separate alter servants before they were even hinted at being released so I’d say I’m on the right track.

the two main things I’ve seen people get wrong are these

  • alters are not just “[servant] but EDGY”, but rather what would happen if the anger/resentment/regret/etc that is already there is brought to the forefront and taken to its logical extreme. everything about an alter servant was already there in the original (with the exception of jeanne alter), it’s just been amplified
  • alters all had some way in which they coped with said anger/resentment/regret/etc before it was amplified. this doesn’t mean they no longer try to cope with it, in fact their prime motivation is to find some way to still have the things that happened to/because of them make sense.

the key to understanding what’s up with any given alter servant is to figure out what it is they want in order to keep their peace of mind, and how being altered changed how they try to get it. what’s more, a returning theme in how alter servants go about this is an inability to accept that the world is a neutral and uncaring place, and that sometimes bad things happen regardless of whether they were deserved.

let’s take saber alter as the first example since she’s the most well known alter. vanilla saber expresses regret over her rule ending in the fall of britain even though she always had her subjects’ best interests at heart, and wants to use the holy grail to put a better king in her place. saber alter instead is a tyrant with no regard for her subjects, and who only allows the strong to live. what they’re both trying to cope with is the fact that even though they always had everyone’s best interests at heart, their rule came with the deaths of countless people. what saber wanted was to be a just king, but she found that her best efforts still resulted in many deaths. 

vanilla saber reasons that this means she was inadequate as a king. those people died because she wasn’t good enough, but somewhere out there should be someone who is. it’s a very idealistic approach all things considered, one that saber alter can’t uphold. instead, saber alter reasons to herself that kingship simply comes with lots of death. if being a king means being a tyrant who only respects the strong, then it makes total sense that she would sacrifice smaller villages to a greater victory. if she was a tyrant with no regard for her people, then it makes total sense that her subjects would come to hate her and that britain would fall at the end of her rule. they were things within her control, and they were her fault, so it makes sense.

similarly, cu chulainn wants some way to make sense of how he always ended up fighting and killing people he cared about. vanilla cu is able to accept that the world is just shit sometimes and can still be proud of his life as a whole. cu alter can no longer be proud of a life in which he killed his friends & family, so instead he reasons that it makes sense he’d kill them if he was a monster that only knows how to kill all along. vanilla emiya was made to kill many innocents because the world is fucked up, and he still tries to do something about it. emiya alter killed many innocents because he was just a tool for killing from the start. jeanne alter, although someone who doesn’t actually exist, represents gilles’ inability to accept the unjust cruelty jeanne suffered, and she tries to justify jeanne receiving divine punishment by being a blasphemous witch who would deserve that punishment. sakura alter reasons that being tortured, neglected, and used for 10 years would make sense if she just deserved it, if she was just the absolute worst person on this planet and was going to kill everyone if left unchecked, because even being the worst person alive would be better than accepting that terrible things just happen sometimes and the world does not care about her in the slightest.

this inability to accept that the world is uncaring and just lets terrible things happen sometimes is a strong sign of how it’s angra mainyu’s influence specifically that corrupted alter servants. he is, after all, the very pinnacle of “bad shit happening to innocent people”. whoever angra was before he was made into all the world’s evils had been an average kid who’d done nothing particularly wrong, and yet he was chosen by pure coincidence to be tortured and hated and vilified for decades, centuries even, as if he were responsible for everything that was ever done wrong. it doesn’t make any god damn sense, and it would be far easier to accept if he did somehow deserve it, so angra mainyu as we actually see him tries to be the kind of person who’d deserve to be hated as the sole cause of everything evil. this same behaviour then repeats itself in the people he corrupts.

in a way it’s childish. it’s throwing a tantrum that it’s just not fair. it’s also a kind of backwards idealism: the world isn’t fair but it should be. these bad things happened for no particular reason but there should be a reason. finally, it’s a kind of powerlessness. despite being jacked up on pure unfiltered holy grail contents they don’t have the ability to make the world make sense, so in their desperate backwards attempts to still have things make sense somehow they become the kind of person they think deserves whatever happened to them.

arwenxs  asked:

Hi! For the prompts, I don't know if you've done this before, but what about a Tony Stark advises for the young avengers? Because I really love the RDJ advises so I think that might be cool.

I SO FELL IN LOVE WITH THIS IDEA OMG I DECIDED I COULD NOT WAIT TO POST IT.

Also I interpreted “Young Avengers” as his new young Avengers, not the Young Avengers™ who don’t have a book right now. That may have been wrong, sorry D:

Title: Tony Stark Advises the Avengers
Rating: PG
Summary: Somehow, Tony Stark ended up Team Dad.
Notes: This is set nominally in the 616, where Ms. Marvel (Kamala Khan), Nova (Sam Alexander), and Spider-man (Miles Morales) are half of an Avengers team with Iron Man (Tony Stark), Captain America (Sam Wilson), and Thor (Jane Foster). 
More Notes: There is a text version following the image version for people who need plain text. Sorry there are two guys on this team named Sam, it’s not my fault. 

***

Ms. Marvel

(Image super heavy under the cut)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

wait, sorry, i'm a bit slow, but how can perseverance be warped into passiveness? perseverance is that you keep going and don't stop, mostly, but passiveness? is just passive?

Welp. One way of thinking of it is this: perseverance can mean sticking it out to the end regardless of what’s happening, and regardless of the outcome.

So it can be long term determination kinda. At it’s best it’s literally rolling with the punching, coming out on top and seeing something to the end regardless of the speed bumps thrown at you. It can be that strength that gets you through difficult things.

Or, at its worst, it can be going along with things regardless of what’s happening. A passive submission to circumstances. Where you are putting up with something without actively making steps to change those circumstances. 

But both are extremes, and just some insight into my brain space. That being said, my word ain’t law, dude =U 

Poodle Emoji Review

A neat, proper, and composed woman. A iconic portrayal of a poodle. However, upon closer inspection I can see a face that hints at hidden stress and anxiety. I can’t help but feel concerned for her, she must have a lot on her mind. Needless to say, she has a wonderful tail pomf. The pomfiest.

5/5

Wow! What a small, soft, cute and fluffy friend. So pink and round, and wonderfully huggable.

5/5

Quite a bold and unique young lady with her distinctive pompadour hairstyle and a hint of a casual and relaxed personality with her lolling tongue. Impractical foot pomfs, however.

4/5

Soft, pure, innocent, and an overall sweetheart. Such a pleasing collaboration of white and pink, with a cute pink button nose to match. This is a cutie that loves to make people smile.

5/5

Doesn’t have the best sense of style out of the group. I would recommend for her to change hair stylists. But my biggest concern is why does she only have three legs? Her hind legs look broken too! What happened to her? Regardless of whatever it may be, she has my respect for holding her head high and soldiering on despite her physical handicaps.

2/5 overall, but 5/5 for being a trooper

Looks more like a bedlington pupper than a poodle, but still a humble friend, nonetheless.

3/5

A pretty young lady, with fur like cotton candy, but she tries too hard to be like samsung. Judging by the look in her eyes, she is insecure and constantly paranoid by how others perceive her. She needs to be assured that she is a wonderful and well-liked individual that needs to threat not by what others think of her.

4/5

What a happy pupper. Look at that charismatic smile! She looks like a supportive friend that will always be happy to see you. Pure, clean, and fluffy, like an embodiment of clouds on a bright summer’s day.

5/5

Now this looks like a cool, modern, and down-to-earth lady, with a posture that means business. Unfortunately, her stoic persona comes across to others as being a bit cold. This is not her intention however, for her heart is still in the right place. Again, she also has impractical foot pomfs.

4/5

Another serious lady, but more casual than the former. Sense of style is questionable at best; what is up with her feet? Are the paws? Pomfs? We just don’t know. She looks like she’s on the lookout, a watchdog. She may not be the pomfiest, but that doesn’t make her any less of a reliable friend who will always watch your back.

3/5

She looks so traumatised. My dear child, who has hurt you? Who has hurt this little girl? They will be catching these hands. We need to shelter this pood from the wicked at all costs.

3/5

A fashionable and self-assured girl, her hair bow and brimming smile says it all. She may not sit well with everyone; some may interpret her as smug and pompous, consumed by her own vanity. But I just call her confident.

3/5

here are my thoughts on the whole bts copying bigbang discord

do i think it was bts’ choice to have the ‘no signal’ thing as part of their performance? probably not, and thus i dont think we should be blaming the group themselves because, realistically, its unlikely bts have that much creative influence over what they do in performances

so no, i dont think we have a right to be angry at bts, but i do think we have a right to be angry that it happened (regardless who was responsible). VIPs are the only people (excluding those who know him personally) to even get close to understanding how much the Act Like Nothing’s Wrong stage meant to TOP. It had deep meaning for him and likely related to past mental struggles he experienced. He is a vulnerable man with a strong stage persona but decided to show some vulnerability on stage in the form of this performance. He used the ‘no signal’ screen to hide behind whilst performing to show how much it meant to him and how it affected him. It was the solo song he chose to perform as one of his last before enlistment. It was an immensely powerful moment between him and his fans on the tenth anniversary. And thats why i’m annoyed that something with such meaningful symbolism is being taken and used for aesthetic purposes.

its a shame that people have taken this misunderstanding as an excuse to have a go at each other, but i hope this helps some people understand why some of us are quite upset at this

Souls and Spirits

What is a soul?
Where are souls located?
What species have souls?
Can souls be damaged?
>What happens to a person when their soul is damaged?
Can souls be used as supernatural currency?
>If someone does this, do they use their entire soul, or just part of it?
>>If they use some or all of their soul, do they face the same negative effects as when someone has their soul damaged?
Is there a difference between a spirit and a soul?
>What is it?
>>Does a soul refer to a part of something living while a spirit refers to something left behind?
>Do people use these words interchangeably regardless?
What happens to souls and spirits when the creature dies?

If a spirit is not a part of a living creature, what is it?
>Does it refer to ghosts?
>Does it refer to its own species?
>>What are they like?
>>Why were they given that name?

anonymous asked:

I've had a lot of instances lately where I've felt a pull towards Freyja, but I don't know a lot about her. Could you share a little bit about her to help with my research??

Sæll (eða sæl) vinur,
(Hello friend,)

Unfortunately, Freyja seems to be quite allusive in our sources, especially in the Prose Edda. Her brother Freyr gets far more direct attention in them. In the sources that I am most familiar with, here is where she appears in them (from a database post I am currently working on):

  • Freyja: Vanir, Fertility Goddess (multiple roles):
    • The Prose Edda (Faulkes trans.):
      • Gylfaginning: pages 24, 29, 30, 35, (36), and 50.
      • Skaldskarpamal: pages 59, 60, 75-8, (85), 86, 94-5, 98-9, (119), and 157.
    • The Poetic Edda:
      • Seeress’s Prophecy: stanza 26 (kenning).
      • Grimnir’s Sayings: stanza 14.
      • Loki’s Quarrel: prose; stanzas 30 and 32.
      • Thrym’s Poem: stanzas 3, 8, and 11ff.
      • Oddrun’s Lament: stanza 9.
      • The Song of Hyndla: stanza 6.
    • Heimskringla:
      • Ynglinga saga: chapter 4 and 10.
    • Fornaldarsögur:
      • Bosi and Herraud: chapter 12.
    • Íslendingasögur:
      • Egil’s Saga: chapter 79.
      • The Saga of the People of Fljotsdal: chapter 26.

That list, of course, has not yet been completed, but it should still serve you and others rather well. I will provide some information directly in this post, though, because some of these texts are less easily accessible. I will also share the bits that contain the most helpful information contained in those texts.


THE PROSE EDDA: (1.)

Snorri Sturluson does not give us a lot of detail about Freyja, but he does provide a basis for us to work with. Honestly, the Prose Edda is a bit of a condensed snapshot of Norse mythology – a slice of time and a slice of place. Without spending too long on source-related debates, here is some of the most satisfying bits of information from that text:

  • Freyja is the daughter of Njord, and the sister of Freyr.
  • Freyja, along with Freyr, is “beautiful in appearance and mighty.”
  • Freyja is “the most glorious of the Asynjur (goddesses).”
  • Her dwelling is called Folkvangar.
  • Whenever she rides to battle, she takes half of the slain. The other half goes to Odin. (This is pretty big).
  • Her hall is called Sessrumnir, and it is “large and beautiful.”
  • She travels in a chariot drawn by two cats.
  • In terms of prayer, she is the most approachable goddess.
  • She is “very fond of long songs” and it is “good to pray to her concerning love affairs.”
  • She is married to Od.
  • She has a daughter named Hnoss, who is also beautiful.
  • Od went off to travel, and Freyja weeps because he is gone, and “her tears are red gold.”
  • Freyja has many names because of her travels in search for Od: Mardoll, Horn, Gefn, and Syr.
  • Freyja owns Bringsing’s necklace.
  • Freyja was once almost married off to a giant.
  • Freyja can apparently grant people a “falcon shape.” She does this for Loki when he must go retrieve Idunn.
  • Freyja is bold. She was the only one who was brave enough to serve drinks to a giant named Hrungnir.
  • Later Snorri includes more of her names: Thrungva and Skjalf. He also mentions a second daughter named Gersemi.

THE POETIC EDDA: (2.)

The reference in the Seeress’s Prophecy is a bit vague, but worth bringing up. I have not spent a considerable amount of time carefully contemplating the verse, but it clearly has an important role in Freyja’s story. I believe most internet it as how Freyja was given as a hostage to end the war between the Æsir and Vanir, but since I am not confident enough to say that as ‘fact’, I’ll just give you the stanza itself:

“Then all the Powers went to the thrones of fate,
the sacrosanct gods, and considered this:
which people had trouble the air with treachery,
or given Od’s girl to the giant race.”

Other information regarding Freyja in the Poetic Edda:

“Folkvang is the ninth, and there Fryja fixes
allocation of seats in the hall;
half the slain she chooses every day, 
and half Odin owns.” (Grim., 14)

  • Loki calls Freyja a witch, suggesting that she dabbles with magic. The Vanir, in general, have connections with magic.
  • Loki suggests that Freyja and her brother Freyr had an affair.
  • The “falcon shape” she can grant is also referred to as a “feather-shirt.” She loans this to Loki so he can help Thor retrieve Mjolnir. It allows the bearer to fly.
  • Freyja is often the object of undesired marriages, often with giants. Yet, she is also often independent and bold enough to object them.

Freyja plays a pretty central role in the Song of Hyndla, but the information about her is not very direct. It would be best to read this poem in its entirety before drawing any conclusions about Freyja from it.


HEIMSKRINGLA: (3.)

This is another work by Snorri Sturluson, but it is treated much differently than the Gylfaginning. From a down-to-Earth perspective, Snorri retells the tale of the gods in an earthly sense. Here are some of the portions about Freyja in Ynglinga saga:

“Njord’s daughter was Freyja. She was a sacrificial priestess. She was the first to teach the Æsir black magic, which was customary among the Vanir.”

There is also this:

“Freyja kept up the sacrifices, for she was the only one of the gods left alive, and she became the best known, so that all noble women came to be called by her name, just as now the name frúvur (‘ladies’) is used. Similarly everyone was called freyja (‘mistress’) of what she possessed, and húsfreyja (‘mistress of a household’) if she is in charge of a dwelling. Freyja was rather fickle. Her husband was called Od. Her daughters were called Hnoss and Gersimi. They were very beautiful. The most precious treasures are called by their names.”


FORNALDARSÖGUR: (4.)

These are sagas about legendary heroes and kings, and a great deal of mythological material gets tied up within them. There are likely others, but I do not have copies of all of them, so I am limited to knowing only of references made in my own small collection. I would share the reference for Freyja that appears in Bosi and Herraud, but it is not very satisfying. All that is said is that there was a toast to Freyja on a wedding night, but little more. Again, there are likely a few other Fornaldarsögur that contain information about Freyja, but they are not my specialty. In time I will hunt down more.


ÍSLENDINGASÖGUR: (5.)

These sagas are a bit different from the Fornaldarsögur. They are much ore realistically toned, in that there is much less supernatural activity taking place. They are still good sources for information, though! Even in terms of mythology. There is a decent amount of information preserved in these texts about rituals and practices associated with certain figures, such as Freyja. Of course, there are problems with the sources that need to be addressed before taking certain bits of information too far, but that is not a concern until you really start to dig and contemplate the text.

  • In Egil’s Saga, a woman named Thorgerd says this: “I have had no evening meal, nor shall I do so until I go to join Freyja.” 
    • This is interesting because it suggests that a woman, at least, can choose to go to Freyja after death. Given further context, there may be a way that she suspects she might be able to make this happen, but regardless there seems to be an acceptance that Freyja has privilege over dead, and not just the half she gets that are slain in battle. Food for thought.

The information in The Saga of the People of Fljotsdal is even less fulfilling, at least when looking to learn more about Freyja herself. If you are interested in the attitudes of Icelanders in regards to conversion, then more information awaits you in the saga.


In the end, there really is not much else to be found regarding Freyja. Most of what we know comes from the Eddas, but there is information scattered around elsewhere. I have not even included archaeological materials and runestone in this situation, but that is because I am a medieval literature kind of guy. Despite the lack of information, I hope what I have shared with you turns out to be helpful in some way or another. Surly something will be of interest to you.

Otherwise, I hope for the best in your endeavors. Freyja is a rewarding subject.

Með vinsemd og virðingu,
(With friendliness and respect,)
Fjörn


FOOTNOTES:

1. Snorri Sturluson, Edda, translated by Anthony Faulkes. (repr., 1987; London: J.M. Dent, 1995). Online version. All specific references are contained above, at the beginning of this post.

2. Carolyne Larrington trans., The Poetic Edda. (repr., 1996; Oxfrod: Oxford University Press, 2014). All specific references are contained above, at the beginning of this post.

3. Snorri Sturluson, Ynglinga saga, in Heimskringla, Volume I: The Beginnings to Óláfr Tryggvason, 2nd ed., translated by Alison Finlay and Anthony Faulkes. (London: University College London, 2016). All specific references are contained above, at the beginning of this post.

4. If you are curious, this is the citation for the collection that I own: Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards trans., Seven Viking Romances. (London: Penguin Books, 1985).

5. Bernard Scudder trans., Egil’s Saga, in The Complete Sagas of Icelanders: Including 49 Tales, Vol. I, edited by Viðar Hreinsson, Robert Cook, Terry Gunnell, Keneva Kunz, and Bernard Scudder, (Reykjavík: Leifur Eiríksson Publishing, 1997), 150. (Chapter 79)

in her shadow || nine.

word count: 1.8k
summary: “I was going to find a way to have her.”

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