#lealinea

     it’s on one of the QUIET nights, an evening spent in the comfort of ana’s home. andie’s laying with her head on her girlfriend’s lap, flipping through the pages of a book, stopping every so often to look up at her, take her hand in her own, smile up at her. with a gentle SIGH, she closes the book she’s been trying ( unsuccessfully ) to get through for the past hour, and sits up, tossing her novel onto the coffee table. 

Thor Ragnarok starters | accepting | @lealinea

     Rhaella knows her wife can have a seemingly allergic reaction to affection, especially in public, yet it didn’t stop her from reaching for one of Hela’s hands and entwining their fingers. She rests her head against her arm, while she was a tall woman by normal standards she was short next to her beloved goddess. 

                                  ❝ who dares to disturb my army  ― take away their ability to roam through the night? ❞ an answer was not given by her most loyal servant, setting a less than pleased expression on her features as roots began to form around the stranger’s feet  ― setting her a trap in case they made a run for it. ❝ who are you? ❞ she hisses as eyes with an UNHOLY GLANCE settled in them make their way up towards the stranger’s features, ready to UNLEASH HELLFIRE.

a long forgotten meme | @lealinea

        Jane likes classical music, but she doesn’t mind jazz, as long as there aren’t words; there’s something interesting, unexpected, about the way the instruments converse with each other, and the way improvisation works, the mathematics required to spontaneously...

        Dance with me?

        Her eyes move to Florence’s offered hand. “I’ll step on your feet,” she says. With music on, it’s hard for her to do anything but listen, and even in a silent room she’s bad at dancing’s essential function, which is moving her whole body with grace. But...

     Ella has grown used to Hela’s sudden appearances beside her, even when they have previously agreed to meet and most of those occasions it’s in secret. Away from the prying eye of the Allfather, and his crows. She entwines her fingers with hers the moment she feels Hela’s hand in hers, a small smile spreading across her lips as she glances at her. The smile only increases as she felts her lips against her cheek.

        “Clay is traditional. I’ve been successful with clay,” Jane says, and pushes a lock of loose hair out of her face with one gloved hand, smearing her cheek with soot. “But I was reading an alchemical text and the metal it described sounded perfect. A light, rust-resistant, flexible alloy. A clay golem is very heavy. They’re reactive to temperatures. They can even freeze. That’s not good. But a metal golem, with fully articulated--oh.”

        She stills to let Florence complete the gesture, wiping her dirty cheek clean. “Oh,” she repeats. She holds the metal arm she’s been working on, playing her hand against its wire tendons, making its fingers waggle and curl into the palm. “What time is it?”