This is a blog for randomness, awesomeness, and all around nerdiness.
I'm a huge fan of Harry Potter, Doctor Who, Young Wizards series, and BONES. I also do cosplaying, so if there's any pics of me on here, they'll be from that.
But call me Elena, cause I'm a Hufflepuff
agents of shield + text posts
*SHOUTING TO THE HEAVENS*
I genuinely did not see those last two tweets coming O.O
What a twist.
That went somewhere I didn’t expect to go….
Back to School on Better Book Titles.
(From the top, left to right: The Picture of Dorian Gray, The Catcher in the Rye, A Separate Peace, The Stranger, The Dictionary, 1984, Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, The Brothers Karamazov, Ethan Frome, The Metamorphosis.)
All the pictures I got from the superwholock photoshoot at matsuricon
the chronicles of narnia - modern au
In response to a prompt i saw on here a while ago.
“She was taken almost two weeks ago, Colonel. I think she at least deserves for us to try,” Steve argued with Phillips. He’s already dressed in the suit, only missing the helmet and his shield.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to go with Rogers on this one, Colonel. Agent Carter is both a liable asset and a dear friend on my behalf. We wouldn’t want a repeat of the Captain’s first rescue, now would we, Colonel?” Howard piped up.
“We don’t have the time or resources to figure out which of those bloody facilities HYDRA took Agent Carter to,” Phillips replied, and then lowered his voice, “Listen, Peggy’s disappearance affects me too. I appreciate her toughness and iron grip as a woman. Heck, if she were my daughter I would be the proudest father on Earth. But there’s nothing we can do. The war waits for no one.”
“A touching conversation, gentlemen, but I’m afraid it’s entirely unnecessary: you’re late.”
Three pairs of eyes spin to take a look at the figure in the doorway, wondering if they had imagined the familiar voice.
But no, Peggy Carter stands there, a little worse for wear, but alive all the same. She’s wearing stolen army fatigues, minus the shirt. Instead, she’s wearing a grungy white wifebeater. Her hair is tied at the back of her head, a few strands hanging limply in her face. She dumps a machine gun on the floor of the office and steps inside, closing the door behind her.
Now able to actually move and talk, the younger two men swarm her, asking questions as they each take in how pale she looks, or the cut on her cheekbone, or her swollen bottom lip. The scratches on both elbows. The gritty dust that coats her skin.
She sighs and looks at the Colonel as they swamp her with questions, but the older man merely shoots her an amused look.
“Stark, Captain- I’m fine. I’m alive and that’s all you are required to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in the showers until tomorrow morning,” Peggy tells them crisply, shoving both of them back a few steps. Well, shoving Howard. Steve didn’t budge.
She turns to leave, before she stops.
“Before I forget-,” she murmurs, and goes over to the map on the Colonel’s desk of all the HYDRA facilities. She locates one and in a single smooth move, plucks the little building off. “Won’t be needing that anymore.”
With that, she breezes out the room, leaving two pairs of shocked eyes staring after her, and one pair that crinkled in a way that spoke of amusement.
sorry not sorry but I just had to draw this because yess this ficlet just hits so many of my soft spots. Badass beat up dirty but still fabulous Peggy Carter mmmmmm