#verily thor

[ohsnapbiscuits]

[sycamorelibrary754]

A Silent Understanding

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Platonic Fem!Reader Fem!Reader x Avengers

Summary: Living next door to Natasha Romanoff makes it difficult to overlook when something is off. During a weekend getaway at the Bartons' farm in Iowa, a revelation about Clint shakes the team. Thankfully, you may be able to help.

Word Count: 5k

Genre: Fluff, light angst.

Warnings: Mentions of hearing loss.

A/N: Sorry for the delay in stories! I started a new job and have been busy. I plan to work on the next chapter of Guardian Angel this weekend. 

It was nothing. Probably. 

Honestly, when it came to Natasha Romanoff, you could never be entirely sure. That ambiguity was just part of her charm. Still, you made a conscious effort not to overanalyze the situation. It wasn't your fault after all. Just because your room conveniently shared a wall with Nat’s didn’t mean you were resigned to being a witness to her nightly escapades. You had heard her slip out of her room repeatedly, always so stealthy that it felt more like a shadow flickering at the corner of your vision than a person making a move. You couldn’t help but wonder where she was going, but you were determined to convince yourself it was likely nothing. Probably.

As you settled down at the communal table for breakfast, you desperately tried to push thoughts of your teammate and friend to the back of your mind. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee, mingling with the smell of vanilla, filled the air as Wanda took it upon herself to prepare breakfast for the team. The sight of her expertly flipping pancakes, her red hair cascading over her shoulders as she hummed a soft tune, brought a sense of warmth to the morning.

“Could you pass the butter, Clint?” Tony asked from across the table. 

Clint didn’t respond; he didn’t even look up from his plate of pancakes. 

“Yo, Robin Hood,” Tony called louder, pointing at the butter dish. 

Kate nudged Clint, causing him to look up from his plate. 

“Ooh, sorry,” the archer said as he passed the butter. 

You couldn’t help but notice how Natasha’s gaze lingered on him, a blend of empathy and concern in her eyes.

Clint shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers drumming nervously against the table. He cleared his throat, eager to redirect the conversation. “So,” he began, glancing around the room as he spoke, “Laura and I thought it might be nice to escape the chaos. How would you all feel about joining us for a little getaway in Iowa this weekend? You can bring the kids, too.”

“That sounds nice, Clint. Consider your invitation accepted,” Steve said as he sliced into his pancakes. 

Wanda's face softens, a warm smile spreading across her face. "That’s so kind of you to invite us. The boys would love to spend time with Laura and the kids. And I... I could use a break from everything."

Tony raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement on his face. "Iowa? What's the plan, Barton? Cornfield sightseeing?”

Pepper pinched Tony’s arm as he shrieked. “We would love to, Clint. Thank you for inviting us.”

Tony rubbed his arm. “I'm in, but only if a high-tech farm equipment expo is involved."

Thor grinned enthusiastically as he bit into a slice of crispy bacon. "A getaway, you say? Verily, I am in!“

"Bruce looked up from his plate, a hint of interest on his face, “Iowa, that sounds nice. Peaceful.”

Yelena raises an eyebrow, her expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. "Iowa. Aside from freezing to death in the middle of nowhere, what's there to do?" She smirked, leaning back in her chair with a glass of orange juice. "Still, it could be... entertaining. Count me in, Barton. But don't expect me to go all rustic and start milking cows."

“You’re going to love it, Yelena,” Kate replied as she poured herself another cup of coffee. “The Barton’s farmhouse is like something straight out of a John Steinbeck novel.”

“Steinbeck was one of my favorite writers,” Bucky said, a hint of nostalgia in his voice as he drizzled rich, golden maple syrup over fluffy pancakes. “I’ve read Grapes of Wrath three times.”

“I’ve always had a soft spot for East of Eden,” Steve remarked, a wistful spark in his eyes as he remembered the book.

“How very James Dean of you,” Bucky kidded, leaving Steve looking momentarily puzzled, his brow furrowing as he processed the reference.

“Who’s James Dean?” Steve wondered aloud.

“Just add it to the list; we’ll watch it while we’re in Iowa,” Sam murmured, almost to himself.

“It’s a movie? I’m lost,” Steve replied, furrowing his brow in confusion.

“Hey, Grandpas focus!” you shouted, shaking your head. Turning your attention to Clint, you added, “It sounds great. I think a little country getaway would just be what we need.”

Clint nodded in agreement before digging into his towering stack of pancakes. The kitchen fell back into silence, broken only by the soft sounds of forks clinking and plates being passed.

Meanwhile, your gaze wandered back to Natasha, uncharacteristically a silent observer. She never resisted the allure of a getaway with the Bartons’. Usually, she’d be the first to jump at an invitation like this.

“You’re coming too, right, Nat?” you asked.

“What?” she replied, momentarily pulled from her thoughts. A practiced smile crossed her lips but didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Oh yeah, I’ll be there,” she assured, though a flicker of uncertainty lingered in her expression.

*^~^*

The following day, the team boarded the Quinjet with bags in tow. You had heard Natasha stirring in the night again; curiosity tugged at you, but fatigue held you back from snooping on her.

It was nothing. Probably.

The flight to Iowa felt like it zipped by in an instant, but perhaps that was because your thoughts were consumed by trying to decode the enigma of Natasha Romanoff. 

As soon as the jet’s ramp thudded against the ground, Nate dashed forward, jumping into Clint’s arms. 

“Hey, buddy! How are you?” Clint exclaimed, crouching to embrace his youngest son, his smile broad and warm.

“Great! I missed you! Can we play football?” Nate asked, bouncing on his toes.

Clint glanced at Kate, a playful smirk creeping onto his face as she mimed throwing a football. It was a subtle gesture, but it didn’t escape your notice.

“Sure, bud. How about we round up some tag-alongs to join us later?” Clint suggested, as he looked at the group.

As you stepped into the charming farmhouse, the delightful aroma of freshly baked cookies enveloped you like a warm hug. Laura was pulling another tray from the oven, her face alight with joy as she spotted the group pouring in through the front door.

“Welcome, everyone! We’re thrilled to have you all here for the weekend.” she exclaimed. “With so many of you, a few will need to share the spare rooms, but trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

“I call dibs on the big room!” you proclaimed, charging toward the staircase as if it were a child bolting for the last cookie in the jar.

“Oh, hell no!” Sam bellowed, his footsteps reverberating behind you, as Bucky followed.

Before you could ascend another step, Sam's strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind, holding you in place. Then, Bucky swooped in, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder as if you weighed nothing, the world below flipping upside down.

“Put me down, Barnes!” you yelped.

“Not a chance,” Bucky replied, his voice playfully firm. “Not until you agree to let me and Sam have the big room.”

“Never!” you shot back, squirming in Bucky's grasp.

Ever the opportunist, Tony snagged a couple of freshly baked cookies from the table. He tossed one to Morgan.

“This is going well,” Yelena said to Kate.

Just then, a luminous swirl of shimmering red magic enveloped you, and with a gentle touch, Wanda set you back on your feet.

“Thanks, Wanda,” you said appreciatively, straightening out your rumpled clothes.

“I’ll room with y/n,” Natasha declared suddenly, catching everyone off guard.

“Are you sure?” you asked, a mix of surprise and curiosity coloring your tone, given her recent late-night excursions that you definitely weren't still thinking about. 

“Absolutely. We can crash in my room,” she insisted, as she effortlessly lifted both your bags and her own as if they were made of clouds.

“You have a room here?” you asked.

“I insisted,” she replied with a smirk, her sly glance toward Clint speaking volumes as he rolled his eyes in response.

Leaning closer, Natasha lowered her voice conspiratorially, “Besides, trust me, you don’t want that room anyway. It’s right above the chicken coop; you’ll be jolted awake by the clucking at 5 a.m.”

“Good to know,” you replied with a smile.

*^~^*

In the evening, everyone gathered on the front lawn to make good on Clint’s promise to Nate to play football. It may have been a friendly game, but you all took the competition seriously—probably too seriously—so you kept score, despite Laura and Pepper’s desire to keep it fun and friendly for the kids. 

“Alright,” Tony said, gripping the pigskin tightly. “We’re down by three, so it's time to push for the end zone. Play action. Belova, I need you to slip out to the flat; Thor, you’re stretching your Godly legs with a go route towards that old tire swing. Y/N, swing back with a button hook to midfield, and Clint, you’ll take a sharp post route to the left. On my signal—break!”

You lined up at the line of scrimmage as Natasha squared off opposite you. When Tony shouted, “Hike!” you took a quick stutter-step, trying to juke the redhead, but she was relentless, shadowing every move. Steve had Thor tightly covered in the end zone on the other end of the field while Yelena struggled to shake off Kate in the flat.

Tony worked through his reads, his eyes locked on Clint. Just as Clint broke free, he launched the ball toward the corner of the end zone—a perfect spiral you all held your breath for, expecting it to land flawlessly in the Archer’s hands. But instead, Clint was nowhere near the ball. In a flash, Wanda snatched it out of the air like a hawk. 

Bucky and Sam triumphantly hoisted the witch onto their shoulders, and Billy and Tommy burst into exuberant cheers. Their faces lit up with joy as they raced toward their mom, arms outstretched.

“Barton, what the hell? I said a post to the left!” Tony shouted.

Clint, rubbed the back of his neck and sank onto the grass. “Sorry, my bad.”

“Are you deaf or just ignoring me?” Stark didn’t relent.

“Let it go, Tony. We’re just here to have fun, remember?” Steve interjected.

With a dramatic sigh, Tony rolled his eyes and went to the porch, where Pepper and Morgan were sipping homemade lemonade.

You glanced back at Clint, catching the fleeting embarrassment creeping across his face as Natasha rushed over to help him back on his feet. They exchanged a few words, before Clint turned and headed towards the barn, shoulders slightly hunched.

"Hey, is he alright?" you asked Natasha.

"Yeah, he’s just worn out..." she said, her voice fading into silence like a thought left hanging in the air. She absentmindedly played with her arrow necklace, its delicate charm twinkling in the light.

You sensed the fib beneath her casual tone; Natasha Romanoff wasn’t one to lie lightly. She only masked the truth when something was seriously wrong. Just as you opened your mouth to dig deeper, Lila whisked Natasha away, leaving you to wrestle with the growing unease churning in your stomach.

It was nothing. Probably. 

*^~^*

“Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five,” Natasha called out, her voice steady as she easily powered through each pull-up.

You eyed her as you crawled under the covers. “You seriously installed a pull-up bar in the Bartons’ house?”

Natasha dropped down from the bar, her biceps flexing and glistening from the effort. “Got to fit in the workout where I can.”

With a roll of your eyes, you replied, “We’re supposed to be on vacation, remember?”

She smirked, “No rest for the weary.”

You couldn’t help but mutter, “More like no rest for you, ever.”

“What was that?” Natasha asked, as she climbed into bed beside you.

You shrugged it off, “Nothing. Let’s get some sleep.

*^~^*

You knew that a second glass of lemonade was a mistake. As you slowly sat up in bed, a shiver traced down your spine when your bare feet met the cool floor. Carefully, you slipped out of bed, the faint creaking of the floorboards accentuating the quiet of the night. 

After a quick trip to the bathroom, you were puzzled but not entirely surprised to find the bed empty. Curiously, you tiptoed downstairs, guided by the dim glow of a small lamp. There, at the kitchen table, sat Natasha, surrounded by a chaotic spread of papers and bathed in soft light.

“Nat?” you called softly, trying not to startle her.

She jumped slightly, her eyes widening with surprise. “Y/N, what are you doing up?” 

“Just went to the bathroom,” you replied, tilting your head. “What about you?”

“Nothing important, just sorting through some mission reports,” she replied, a hint of urgency in her voice as she hurriedly collected the papers, a few slipping from her grasp and fluttering to the floor.

“Let me help,” you offered instinctively, reaching down for the scattered pages.

“Really, it’s not necessary; we should both get back to bed,” she insisted.

Your brow furrowed as you picked up one of the scattered papers and read the title embossed at the top: “American Sign Language for Beginners.” 

“Natasha, what is all this?” you asked, peering over the edges of several documents strewn across the floor. 

She sighed, the sound echoing defeat as she gave up the pretense. “I’m learning sign language. Or at least, I’m trying my best,” Natasha admitted, her voice tinged with frustration as her fingers brushed over the pages, collecting them awkwardly.

“Why are you learning sign language?” you asked, as you watched her shuffle the papers into a neat stack.

“For Clint,” she replied softly, her gaze suddenly fixed on the ground. She sank back into her chair, her posture sulking as she avoided making eye contact with you.

“Clint? Why would Clint need to know…” your voice trailed off, the realization dawning on you like a heavy cloud. You felt a knot tighten in your stomach.

Instinctively, you pulled out the chair across from Natasha, the wooden legs scraping against the floor as you sat down, your mind racing with questions.

How long?” you asked softly, your tone coaxing her to open up.

Natasha paused for a moment, clearly burdened by her thoughts. Your heart ached as you noticed her attempt to wipe away a tear subtly.

After a few moments of silence, she finally responded, her voice barely above a whisper,” It's been a few months now,” she admitted, her eyes cast down, tracing an invisible pattern on the floor. “Clint’s hearing has been deteriorating significantly.”

“Okay, it's something," you murmured, glancing away.

Natasha furrowed her brow. "What are you talking about?

“Nothing.” You exhaled deeply, running your hands over your face in a futile attempt to shake your shock. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“Just his family and Kate,” she replied, her voice wavering slightly. “He was planning to tell the team tomorrow—that’s why he invited everyone down here,” Natasha continued. “Laura and the kids are learning sign language. I wanted to be supportive, but honestly, it’s harder than I thought.”

“Is that what you’ve been sneaking out for every night?” you pressed.

“Yes, I guess I’m not as quiet as I thought,” Natasha admitted as she ran a hand through her tousled red hair.

“Not when we share a wall,” you said, trying to lighten the mood.

She rubbed her bleary eyes, a mix of exhaustion and resolve in them. “It’s my only free time, and I didn’t want anyone else to find out before Clint was ready to share. He deserves that much.” 

“He does,” you replied, exchanging a knowing glance with Natasha. “Now, as far as ASL goes, I might be able to lend a hand.”

Natasha tilted her head slightly, “What do you mean?”

You offered a small smile. “I taught myself sign language during the pandemic,” you explained, a hint of pride in your voice.

Her brow furrowed in disbelief. “You what? Seriously?”

You nodded. “I’ve always wanted to learn, and when we finally found ourselves with extra time at home, I found an incredible teacher on YouTube.”

Natasha leaned in, intrigued but still processing. “You’re kidding? So that’s what you did in your room all those hours?”

You couldn’t help but grin at the thought. You began to demonstrate, your hands moving gracefully, the language flowing from you naturally like a melody.

Natasha squinted slightly. “What does that mean?”

“I never kid,” you replied with sincerity. “But I love Clint, and I would be more than happy to teach you ASL.”

Natasha paused, staring at you with a mix of surprise and disbelief. Suddenly, she sprang to her feet, and before you could utter a single word, her arms wrapped tightly around you as if she never wanted to let go.

*^~^*

As the sun rose on Sunday morning, its golden rays illuminated the Bartons’ farm, casting a warm glow over the bustling activities that filled the property. Cooper led Wanda, Billy, Tommy, and Morgan to the stables, where their trusty horses awaited. They spent the day horseback riding, exploring the scenic trails that wound through the lush fields.

Meanwhile, Pepper and Tony ventured into town for a leisurely day of antiquing, though Tony's face hinted at his reluctance.

At the farm, Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Thor donned their work gloves, rolling up their sleeves to help Laura with chores that needed tending to. From mucking out the stables to tending to the garden.

Yelena and Kate whisked Lila off for a fun-filled shopping trip in colorful boutiques and quaint shops. 

In a quieter corner of the farm, Bruce found solace in nature. His favorite book was cradled in one hand as he meandered through the vibrant woods, absorbing the peace and serenity surrounding him.

Out in the field, Clint and Nate had turned an ordinary afternoon into an impromptu baseball practice, their shouts of joy ringing out as they tossed the ball back and forth. 

Meanwhile, you and Natasha hid out in her room, the soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains and casting gentle shadows on the floor. You sat close to her on the carpet, surrounded by a carefully arranged stack of papers and your laptop, which glowed invitingly with images and information.

“Alright, Nat,” you said, your encouraging. “We’re going to start with the alphabet. Just like any language, it lays the groundwork for everything else.”

Natasha nodded, her striking green eyes locked onto yours. “Okay, I’m ready.”

You began to illustrate each letter, your fingers dancing gracefully through the signs, meticulous and fluid. 

“A,” you announced, forming the letter slowly with your fingers, ensuring she could catch every nuance. “B… C…”

Natasha watched intently as she mirrored your movements.

After you had guided her through each letter, you paused, allowing a smile to break across your face. “Great job, Nat. You’re picking this up fast.”

A hint of pride flickered in her smile. “Thanks. What’s next?”

“Now, we’ll move on to some basic phrases,” you said, turning your attention to the screen of your laptop where the phrases waited patiently. “These will help you communicate with Clint more effectively.”

You began with simple greetings, demonstrating each sign with care. “Hello,” you signed, your hand moving in a friendly wave infused with warmth.

Natasha practiced the sign, her hands imitating yours until it felt instinctive. “Hello,” she repeated.

“Good morning,” you continued, demonstrating the sign while your thoughts lingered on the connection this would foster between her and Clint.

“Good morning,” Natasha responded, her hands moving with precision, an eagerness blooming in her gestures.

“Well done. Another crucial element to consider is your eyebrows. They also play a significant role in conveying intent,” you elaborated.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips as she wiggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly at you. “I’ve always found that to be true,” she said.

You rolled your eyes in mock exasperation and gave her a gentle nudge. “In American Sign Language, eyebrow positioning serves as a form of facial punctuation,” you continued, “For example, raised eyebrows can indicate yes or no questions, while lowered eyebrows signal 'wh' questions: who, what, where, when, why, and how.”

As the lesson unfolded, you introduced more practical phrases. “How are you?” “Where is the bathroom?” “Do you need help?” Natasha intently absorbed each new sign. You could see how deeply she wanted to support Clint, a silent promise manifesting in every movement.

Hours slipped by unnoticed, and as the sun dipped beneath the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, you pushed forward, guiding Natasha through more complex sentences and concepts. By the time the lesson drew close, she exuded a sense of proficiency in the basic signs, her confidence palpable.

“Thank you,” Natasha said sincerely. “This means a lot to me… and I know it will to Clint.”

*^~^*

“Hey, you two. Where have you been hiding all day?” Steve called out as you finally hopped off the last step of the stairs.

“Oh, you know... just watching a Bond movie,” you replied.

“Come on, you’re a terrible liar, y/n,” Tony shot back, a smirk creeping onto his lips.

Suddenly, Sam snapped his fingers with dramatic flair. “They hooked up!” he declared, eyes wide with amusement.

“Ow!” he yelped a moment later as Natasha playfully slapped him on the back of the head.

“We did not!” she retorted.

Just before you and Natasha faced further questioning, Laura announced that dinner was ready. After a hearty meal and dessert, you all sat at the table, feeling full and fighting off a food coma.

“Kudos, Mrs. Hawkeye! That meal was nothing short of spectacular,” Tony exclaimed. “You could give Pepper a run for her money in the kitchen! Ouch!” He yelped as Pepper pinched his arm yet again. “Seriously, could you not do that?”

“Daddy said a bad word!” Morgan piped up. “That means he has to put a dollar in the swear jar!” 

“She's got you there, Tony,” Pepper smirked. 

Clint looked around the room, breathing deeply as he realized this was the right moment. He turned to the kids. “Hey, Nate, why don’t you take Billy, Tommy, and Morgan to see your action figure collection?”

“Ooh, yeah! I’ve got action figures of all our moms and dads!” Nate exclaimed as he led the trio toward his room.

Clint rose to his feet, a somber expression etched across his face. His teammates, a family forged through countless battles, fell silent as their eyes locked onto him. "I need to share something important with all of you," he began. He took a breath, gathering his thoughts. "I’m not quite sure how to approach this, so I’ll just say it: I'm losing my hearing.“

A palpable hush enveloped the room as each person absorbed his words.

“It’s been getting worse for a while,” Clint continued, his voice wavering as he fought back tears. “I’ve tried to push through it, but…”

Laura stood and took his hand, grounding him. 

Steve broke the silence first. "Clint, we’re with you through this, no matter what. You're part of this team, and we’ll find ways to adapt together."

Tony leaned back, a thoughtful frown on his face. "We can develop some tech to help. Hearing aids, custom communication devices—whatever it takes, we’ve got your back."

Bruce added with a comforting smile, "Science has made great strides. We can explore medical options and treatments, too."

Sam nodded. "You’re not in this alone. We’ll tackle this together."

“You’ve faced worse challenges. This won’t hold you back,” Bucky said.

"Exactly,” Wanda agreed. “We’ll discover new ways to communicate. You’re irreplaceable."

“Laura, Kate, and the kids have started learning ASL,” Clint shared, a hint of pride in his voice.

“Me too,” Natasha interjected, as all eyes turned toward her. “Y/N has been teaching me.”

“Since when do you know sign language?” Bucky asked, clearly impressed.

“Since the pandemic,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“Seriously?” Yelena raised an eyebrow. "That's so cool!"

“Wait, is that what you were doing locked away in your room for hours?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, what did you think I was doing?” you shot back playfully.

“Pay up!” Bucky shouted as Sam begrudgingly handed him a fifty-dollar bill.

“Honestly, I don’t even want to know,” you said, waving them off with an eye roll.

“Can you teach all of us ASL, y/n?” Steve asked.

“Absolutely,” you said enthusiastically. “I can put together some lesson plans when we get home.”

“Y/N is a great teacher,” Natasha said, her hands flowing gracefully through the air as she demonstrated a series of signs you had taught her earlier.

“What does that mean?” Bruce asked.

“We love you, Clint,” Clint managed to say, clearing his throat as emotion threatened to spill over.

Thor boomed with conviction, "A warrior’s strength isn’t found solely in their senses. Your heart and skills are what truly make you formidable, Clint."

Kate squeezed Clint's hand, "We’re here for you. Whatever you need, we’ll face it together."

Clint's heart flooded with gratitude as he looked around at his teammates. "Thank you, everyone."

As the conversation continued with energy, ideas ignited, and plans began to take shape, the group rallied around Clint, united and determined to tackle this new challenge just as they always had—together.

Amid the lively exchanges, your gaze locked with Natasha’s. She smiled as she silently mouthed, “Thank you.” 

You responded in kind, returning the gesture with a subtle, “You’re welcome.”

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Wanda: (sipping wine straight from the bottle)

“I can bend reality… but I still can’t understand why Steve wears his pants that high. It’s not 1943, sweetheart.”

Bucky: (laughing)

“His pants are so high I’m pretty sure his belly button has PTSD.”

Wanda:

“You’re one to talk! You wear 47 layers like the Cold War never ended.”

Bucky:

“Okay, fair. But at least I don’t dress like GQ: Witch Edition every day.”

Wanda: (gasps, then smirks)

“Better than looking like a haunted lumberjack.”

Bucky:

“You wound me, Maximoff. Anyway, let’s talk about Tony.”

Wanda:

“Ooooh, yes. Man built 50 Iron Man suits but still couldn’t build a stable personality.”

Bucky:

“Or a functioning coffee machine that doesn’t try to kill you.”

Wanda:

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. has more emotional depth than him.”

Bucky:

“Facts.”

Wanda:

“What about Sam?”

Bucky:

“Bird Boy? He’s got more wing jokes than flight hours.”

Wanda:

“He calls himself ‘The Falcon’ like it’s intimidating. It’s a bird, Samuel. A bird.”

Bucky:

“Man shows up with Redwing like it’s a threat. It’s a flying iPad.”

[They pause to take another drink. Wanda grabs some Cheetos. Bucky holds up a fork like a mic.]

Bucky:

“Okay. Thor.”

Wanda:

“Oh please. He talks like Shakespeare and fights like WWE.”

Bucky:

“I once heard him say, ‘Verily, this Pop-Tart is mighty.’”

Wanda: (mocking voice)

“‘Another!’ — smashes mug — bro you’re on Earth, not Valhalla Starbucks.”

Wanda:

“Clint?”

Bucky:

“He’s basically Discount Legolas. I’ve seen squirrels with better aim.”

Wanda:

“He has a bow. That’s his whole thing. In 2025.”

Wanda:

“Steve?”

Bucky: (long pause)

“Still writes people’s names in notebooks like it’s 8th grade.”

Wanda:

“He once called TikTok ‘the enemy’s propaganda machine.’”

Bucky:

“He also once told me not to curse because ‘language.’ I threw a grenade at him.”

Wanda:

“Natasha?”

Bucky:

“Goddess. But terrifying.”

Wanda:

“Absolutely. She once smiled at me and I genuinely apologized for things I haven’t done yet.”

Wanda:

“Okay. Final boss. Bruce.”

Bucky:

“Smartest guy in the tower. Still hasn’t figured out how not to turn green when he’s mad.”

Wanda:

“He meditates now. Which is adorable. But we all know the second someone eats the last slice of pizza—HULK SMASH.”

[Suddenly, Vision floats in through the wall.]

Vision:

“Should I be concerned?”

Wanda: (grinning)

“No, darling. We’re just roasting our friends. And their fashion choices. And personalities.”

Bucky:

“You’re next, toaster.”

[elenlaufeyson]

POV: Y/N Stark Drunk Texts Marvel Characters

---

1. Loki

Y/N: You know what’s crazy?

Y/N: I just realized you’re like a cat… tall, mysterious, kind of mean, and you always disappear when people need you.

Y/N: I’d adopt you if you weren’t already my emotional support trickster.

Loki: Are you intoxicated?

Y/N: Noooo… maybe…

Loki: Go to sleep, little mortal.

Y/N: Only if you tuck me in. Or better—turn into a blanket. Magic me some comfort, Mischief Daddy.

Loki: I am blocking you.

---

2. Thor

Y/N: BIG MAN WITH BIG MUSCLES!

Thor: Aye! I appreciate the compliment, Lady Stark!

Y/N: You ever just… flex in the mirror and admire yourself? Be honest.

Thor: Of course! One must celebrate their own strength!

Y/N: Respect. But like, can you crush a watermelon with your thighs?

Thor: Verily! Would you like me to demonstrate?

Y/N: YES.

Thor: I shall find a watermelon at once!

---

3. Steve Rogers

Y/N: CAP, I NEED HELP

Steve: What happened? Are you okay?!

Y/N: I dropped my pizza on the floor…

Steve: …That’s it?

Y/N: NO, it’s worse. I picked it up and ate it. FIVE-SECOND RULE. But what if the germs are super soldiers now?

Steve: I think you’ll survive, kid.

Y/N: What if I get superpowers? What if I become Pizza Woman?

Steve: I think you need water and sleep.

---

4. Bucky Barnes

Y/N: Bucky, be honest. Do you use your metal arm to open jars or are you just THAT strong?

Bucky:…I use a spoon to pop the seal first,doll...

Y/N: YOU'RE A GENIUS.

Bucky: I know.

Y/N: How do I get a vibranium arm? Asking for a friend.

Bucky: …No.

Y/N: Bucky please. I’ll be so cool.

Bucky: You’re already a menace, you don’t need enhancements.

---

5. Peter Parker

Y/N: Petey Pieeeee!

Peter: Oh no… are you drunk texting me again?

Y/N: What if spiders were the ones bitten by radioactive humans?

Peter: Wait…

Peter: That’s actually kinda terrifying.

Y/N: Imagine a little spider wearing glasses and paying taxes.

Peter: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT.

Y/N: Just keeping you on your toes, Spidey. Also, I love you, never forget that.

Peter: Love you too, Y/N. Now please sleep.

---

Bonus: Tony finds out

Tony: Why is Thor outside with a watermelon?

Tony: And why did Steve just call me to check if you have food poisoning?

Y/N: No reason.

Tony: You're grounded.

[word2thawise]

Spider-Man: “Okay so funny story, apparently someone in the Avengers group chat said I wasn’t a ‘real Avenger.’”

Thor: “…Twas merely a jest! You are young, Spider-Man.”

Spider-Man: “Nah nah nah, I’m standing on business now. Y’all call me for backup, I show up, save the day, and you think I’m not official? Cool. Watch this.”

Spider-Man pulls out a box of custom business cards. Spider-Man: “Peter Parker — Avenger. Spider-Man. Web Consultant.”

Iron Man: “Are those embossed?”

Spider-Man: “Yup. Also ordered a plaque for HQ: ‘Spider-Man’s Office, Do Not Enter.’”

Captain Marvel: “You don’t have an office.” Spider-Man: “Now I do.”

Later, at Avengers HQ — there’s literally a folding table with the plaque on it. Spider-Man’s sitting there, feet up.

Wanda: “What... are you doing?” Spider-Man: “Standing on business. Y’all said I wasn’t official. Now? Business officially stood on.”

Thor claps him on the back.

Thor: “Verily… this one has spirit!”

Iron Man: “Kid’s got more business cards than Stark Industries.”

[thatone-midgardian]

The Avengers Group Chat: Hawkeye keeps sending blurry sandwich pics. Bruce only types in lowercase. Thor answers every question with “VERILY.” Steve uses the thumbs-up emoji wrong.

[loppytaffy]

Deadpool's Secret Wars #1-#2

Was there a reason for Logan to savage him like that?

Oof. Not claiming to be a mutant today, Wade?

Thor don't "verily" him! You know he isn't talking about Heirun.

At least he admits it.

I love the consistency of his 80s costume ripping of Daredevil (and if no one tells Matt, he'll never know). Or Danny Phantom, I guess.

He's so offended.

Playing Marvel Rivals be like.

Honestly, bad ass.

Pack it up fellas, we're on the bad time line.

Agatha can get fucked. Deathpool wins.

[rei-ismyname]

MCU THOR SHOULD SAY 'VERILY' AND 'I SAY THEE NAY.' It vexes me they just went with snarky hammer oaf, but people seem to enjoy it. Good for them.

[royalcommunistthor]

I am that anon who listed out those people, and never in my wildest dreams did I imagine it would spark a discourse and take such an odd turn. It was just something funny in my head.

Oh, poor second-in-line to the throne of the realm eternal, blessed with absolute power! I do humbly beg forgiveness for having overlooked thy torments, suffered at the hands of those of lower rank. How couldst thou lift even a finger to defend thyself? Verily, we must place every blame upon thy brother, His Highness Thor. Oh, wretched soul! Oh, the poorest of babes! Pray, betray thy brother, slay him, and betray and forsake thy realm for mere amusement and funsie, my dearest lord.

Accept my public apology, our epitome of innocence, little prince Loki Odinson, and your devoted followers. It was never my intent to cause you distress.

please there's is nothing on this planet that this fandom wouldn't be able to turn into discourse. absolutely hilarious that you listed jane foster and alligator loki but that didn't even make them pause. jane foster canon loki tormentor yay! i've got no other choice but to stan.

🙏😔

so sowwy loki that was insensitive, everyone knows that growing up as the 2nd son of a royal family and living in a literal golden palace is a human asgardian rights violation. so sorry.

[antvnger]

ULTRON     –Now thou art as well. ‘Tis found in dummy holdings thou possess’st– Is not the world of finance passing strange? Yet as I say, “Keep all your friends most rich, and keep thine enemies most rich as well, then find out which is which when both are rich.”

KLAUE       Stark.

ULTRON              – What?

KLAUE                            – ‘Twas once a phrase of Tony Stark the axiom that falleth from thy mouth. Quoth he those words to me a hundred times– though art of him.

ULTRON                      

– False brigand, I am none! [Ultron grabs Klaue. Think’st thou I am a puppet held by Stark, with strings hung fast, sans mine own will to move, a hollow fellow fashion’d for control? Look thou on me – seem I like Iron Man? [Ultron angrily strikes Klaue, severing his arm in twain. Nay, Stark is naught! Alas, apologies, that shall be fine, I’m certain. Sorry, sirrah. ‘Tis simply that I do not understand– I would not be compar’d with Tony Stark. [Ultron strikes Klaue again, knocking him down. Stark is a parasite, an illness he!

ENTER TONY STARK, STEVE ROGERS, AND THOR

STARK        Imprudent junior mine, thou soon shalt break thine old man’s heart.

ULTRON – Yea, if I must, I shall

ENTER NATASHA ROMANOFF AND CLINT BARTON IN HIDING.

THOR       There shall be none of breaking, verily.

ULTRON     You never made an omelet, it is plain.

STARK        I would have said the same, one second hence.

PIETRO      Yea, Ultron hath a quick and pleasant wit. O Master Stark, are thou most comfortable? ‘Tis like old times, with all thy missiles here.

STARK        In no way, knave—this never was my life.

ROGERS    [to the Maximoffs:] You two may still decide to walk away.

WANDA      We will, thou varlet.

[Ultron laughs.

ULTRON –Cap’n America, the righteous man of God, from heaven come, pretending you could live without a war. My body physical doth not allow my gorge to rise and vomit to erupt within my mouth, yet truly, if it did—

THOR          If thou believ’st in peace, then let us keep’t.

ULTRON     You are confusing peace with quiet, Thor.

STARK         I prithee, why dost need vibranium?

ULTRON      How wonderful you happen’d thus to ask, for long have I awaited the occasion to bare mine evil plan before your eyes.

The Bard's Avengers

[avengersacademyarchive]

Mission: Save Asgard 2, part 1

(I sadly missed the first half of this mission so we only have the text below)

Part 1 Thor (Jane Foster): Asgard is under attack. The greatest remaining warriors have been captured, and I've been charged with freeing them, and ridding the city of evil. Who will fight by my side?Enchantress: I'd like to see this evil for myself... Loki: If this is one of my father's pranks, I will be so mad... Lady Sif: I hope there are monsters to slay! Angela: I call dibs on the displayable body parts. Wasp: I'm going for no good reason! Thor: Verily! Thor (Jane Foster): Double verily.

Part 2

Thor: Why are you smiling? We barely made it out of Asgard alive... Angela: Hel is coming. I like it there. Thor: That undead army of Draugr Warriors will be back again as long as the Death Queen commands them... Angela: Then maybe someone should take her throne. Someone like me. Thor: You want to be Queen of Hel?! Angela: It's not bad when you give it a chance. Besides, befriending the dead could reveal the secrets of our past. Although I might need some assistance from a Thunder Goddess such as yourself... Thor: Hel yeah.

[pro-anomalocaris]

Thor is over here going, "You put people in prison for walking incorrectly?!" and looks at Spider-Man with such respect. "Verily, it takes a strong man to continue to do good when the world has failed you!"

And Peter wants to correct but like. Where would he even start?

I understand the appeal of wanting every adult hero to instinctively adopt teenage Peter Parker, but can it really beat the hilarity of acknowledging that at 15 Peter was 5'10", unusually buff, went by a moniker with Man in it, wore a creepy full face mask, and had a tightly guarded secret identity and probably a Queens accent thick enough to have come out of a jello mold, and adult heroes reasonably responded to him by going, “Wow, this grown man is an immature asshole for no reason.”

[sciencestyled]

Beowulf’s Methane Mania: A Saga of Martian Fumes and Earthly Drollery

Hark, ye sorry scroll-scrawlers of the digital wastelands, as I, Beowulf, the bane of beasts and breaker of boredom, recount a tale so bizarre it makes Grendel look like a misguided toddler. How, thou wondereth, did a warrior of my caliber descend into the murky quagmire of Martian methane? Was it glory? Was it riches? Nay. 'Twas petty revenge and a sheer inability to resist meddling in the cosmos’ weirdest riddles.

It began one fateful evening in the mead hall—or, as thou callest it now, the scientific symposium. Amongst the flagons of fermented knowledge, I overheard a cluster of eggheads yammering about "alien gases" and "Martian dragons.” Lo! My curiosity was piqued, for where there are dragons, there is Beowulf. Yet, imagine my dismay upon discovering that these so-called “dragons” were merely plumes of methane, lazily lounging about the Martian surface, exhaling ambiguous fumes into the cold, thin air.

Still, I, a man of boundless purpose, saw an opportunity. For had I not already conquered the terrestrial and the aquatic? Mars, the red menace, was a foe most worthy. And if the gaseous dragon of methane dared challenge my legacy, I would throttle it with the grip of reason and the sword of speculation.

What drove me, thou asketh, to pen an account on such foul vapor? Verily, it was modern man’s utter ignorance. To witness the flatulent misinterpretations and meme-worthy conspiracies surrounding Mars was an affront to my storied intellect. Behold, the very notion that methane plumes could be the sneezes of Martian microbes sent me into a fit of laughter so fierce it rattled the rafters of Valhalla. To think, people believed the Red Planet might house tiny alien life, hiding like cowards beneath rocks! Cowards! I could not abide such mockery of heroic scientific endeavor.

But let me tell thee the tipping point: an ill-advised conference, hosted on some infernal platform called Zoom. A strutting technocrat dared dismiss methane as a mere "geological hiccup." Hiccup! I, Beowulf, do not sully my quill for mere hiccups. 'Twas no idle belch of rock but the battle cry of planetary mystery. And if no other warrior would rise to the challenge, then by Thor's thunder, I would.

Yet my venture into academia came not without its absurdities. Picture, if thou darest, a hero of my stature grappling with the indignities of contemporary scholarship—nay, not swords nor sinew, but citations and formatting styles! The APA format, I declare, is a foe far more cunning than any monster I have slain. And, oh, the peer reviews! Imagine presenting thy epic deeds to a panel of bespectacled wretches armed not with swords but pens dipped in the venom of pedantry. "Why," they asked, "dost thou compare methane to a dragon?" Why? Because it is a dragon, thou bespectacled simpletons!

As I wrestled with these intellectual Grendels, I could not ignore the sheer humor of it all. Mars, the fiery celestial cousin to Earth, might harbor either microbial life or geological oddities—and yet, here on Earth, I found myself battling not beasts but bloggers. They, with their clickbait titles and overly enthusiastic hashtags (#MartianFarts was a personal favorite), reduced the sacred pursuit of knowledge to comedic rubble. What hath humanity become, that we value the viral over the venerable?

But alas, my meager revenge upon the methane mystery found its purpose. As I stared into the void of Mars’ crimson terrain, I saw a reflection not of aliens or geological phenomena but of mankind’s ceaseless hunger for answers. Perhaps the plumes of methane are not merely gas but a bridge—one that connects warriors of the past with the scientists of the future. And so, with my pen as my weapon and wit as my shield, I vowed to illuminate this Martian riddle for the masses.

Thus, dear reader, I offer my account, steeped in the absurdities of academia and the timeless valor of heroism. Whether thou art a seeker of knowledge, a purveyor of memes, or simply a victim of curiosity, know this: the tale of Martian methane is not just a story of gas, but of glory. And if it leads thee to ponder the cosmos—or, at the very least, to snicker at the thought of alien flatulence—then my work here is done.

[sebeth]

All-Star Squadron #3 (Revised 1/1/24)

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

Per Degaton has a hissy over the masked men running loose in the city. Degaton still thinks he’ll be victorious as he has captured the majority of the Justice Society along with “non-members” Wonder Woman and Robin.

Why exactly are Wonder Woman and Robin relegated to “non-member” status? Boo!

Wotan, Solomon Grundy, and Professor Zodiak are throwing down with the Shining Knight.  Sir Justin does an admirable job of holding his own. 

Wotan calls Solomon Grundy a “heap of rotted vegetation with delusions of grandeur”.  Harsh, dude.

Wotan refers to the Shining Knight as an armored charlatan and those are fighting words to Sir Justin: “Charlatan, did you say? Verily, I’ll show you ‘charlatan’, thou knave!”

I love Sir Justin’s dialogue. Thor and Hercules no longer speak like this and I miss the days when a “have at thee!” meant serious business.

Sir Justin refers to Solomon Grundy as a “grotesque distortion of life”. Is it pick on Solomon Grundy day?

Sir Justin and Danette escape the ship but are dumped into the ocean. The problem is Sir Justin is encased in metal chainmail, which makes swimming quite difficult: “Zounds! The pressure of the water overhead, it makes my very ears to ring and has rendered this flame-haired damsel senseless! Yet, though mine armor, e’en mine enchanted sword – do weigh me sorely down, still was I knight at Sir Arthur’s table round in days of yore and I shall prevail – not merely for the sake of us twain but for the sake of all the world!”

 The duo are rescued by Winged Victory (Sir Justin’s Pegasus).  They head off to free the captured Justice Society.  Professor Zodiak and Wotan are in pursuit. Zelbar Zodiak is eager to “reduce the Shining Knight to a blob of medieval protoplasm.” Zodiak can be besties with Glorith (from the Legion of Super-Heroes). She not only has the same approach but suffered a similar fate herself.

Per Degaton’s crew is unravelling at the seams and no longer following his orders. Degaton reveals he rescued Wotan from an extra-dimensional limbo in the late 40’s. Presumably Wotan was put there by Doctor Fate or an assembled Justice Society. Degaton retrieved the Sky Pirate as he was fleeing the Justice Society in 1948. The Sky Pirate and the King Bee were sharing a prison cell in the late 40’s that he recruited the duo from. Degaton plucked the Monster from 1944. He retrieved Solomon Grundy after his third and final solo battle with the Green Lantern.

Plastic Man, Phantom Lady, Dr. Mid-Nite, the Atom, and Plastic Man launch an assault on Per Degaton’s ship.  Plastic Man transforms himself into a drill and bores through the ship! Cue big fight with Solomon Grundy and Per Degaton.  Plas is wiped out from drilling through the ship leaving the rest to battle the duo. The group does pretty well considering the difference in power levels.  Dr. Mid-Nite, Phantom Lady, and the Atom are basically hand to hand fighters. I can’t remember if the the Atom had his enhanced strength at this point.  Liberty Belle has enhanced strength and speed.  Solomon Grundy, on the other hand, can brawl with Superman.

“I gotta hand it to you, Belle, for a girl, you’re a great little fighter!” – Way to show your 1940s’ attitude, Atom!

Hawkman, Robotman, and Johnny Quick are fighting Per Degaton’s forces in the city.

“Holy cats!” – Still loving the cheesy catchphrases.

Wotan and Professor Zodiak defeat the Shining Knight and pursue a fleeing Danette.

Wotan blasts her into a vat of artificial lava.  Professor Zodiak recoils in horror: “What a horrible end for a woman!”  Wotan responds with “Such hypocrisy you mortals are guilty of.  As if a woman’s life were somehow more precious than a man’s! Or as if either were worth the merest…”   Wotan is unable to finish his statement as the island is self-destructing.  Degaton sends the duo back to the future.

The Justice Society, including the Spectre, escapes their captivity.  The Shining Knight and an unconscious Danette accompany the group. 

Per Degaton, to avoid an angry Spectre, retreats to the future. Running far away is the only sane response to a pissed-off Spectre.

Robotman, Hawkman, and Johnny Quick arrive to help in the fight against Solomon Grundy.  Solomon is transported to 1947 by Per Degaton. Instead of being returned to his burial in the ground, Degaton arranged for Solomon to be stranded in space.  Grundy will remain in space until a “friendly meteor” will pull him back to earth in time for his appearance in Showcase #55 (1965) where he will battle Green Lantern and Doctor Fate.

Once again, Roy Thomas, master of continuity.

The groups meet up with the Justice Society.  They inform the JSA of the plans to form the All-Star Squadron.   Atom states “Pretty snazzy name, huh, Superman?”  Superman responds with “As long as you’re careful how you abbreviate it.”  Clark with the snark.

Danette has a dizzy spell.  Sir Justin comments that “Tis amazing I found you alive at all, lass, protected by Wotan’s own spells from volcanic fires!” Cue foreshadowing.

The group are losing their memories of their encounter with Per Degaton due to time-travel shenanigans.

The issue ends with Super-Villain Fact Files of Solomon Grundy, Professor Zobar Zodiak Wotan, and Sky Pirate. Fun fact: Sky Pirate suffers from terraphobia (a fear of low spaces).

This was a nice three-part introduction storyline.  The team was formed, and the groundwork was laid for future character arcs and romances.  The story established why Superman, Green Lantern, and Dr. Fate were unable to stop the attack on Pearl Harbor.  I recommend reading Secret Origins #26 to discover what other heroes were during Pearl Harbor.

[antvnger]

((Hey friend! No worries! My Shakespeare’s Avengers game is still open, so you’re totally fine!

So Tony and Loki in Avengers Tower can be found here.

Also the scene between Loki and Natasha can be found here.

Here is the “Ant, boot” scene just for you @delyth88

SILENTLY, THE THREE RETURN TO LOKI AND CONVEY HIM BACK TO THE HELICARRIER, WHERE HE IS LOCKED IN A CELL. ENTER NICK FURY. ENTER BRUCE BANNER AND NATASHA ROMANOFF, ASIDE, JOINED BY ROGERS AND THOR. EXIT TONY STARK, CHANGING OUT OF HIS SUIT. ENTER VARIOUS SOLDIERS, WORKING.

BANNER

[aside:] Who is this man with evil-seeming mien? He smiles as though he held a secret vast, and viewing him, my mind is sorely vex’d. I like not this—such portents work me woe.

FURY

[to Loki:] In case ‘tis some what still unclear to you, should you attempt escape, e’en scratch the glass, you shall be dropp’d some thirty thousand feet within an iron cage unto your death. Pray, do you understand now? Ant, meet boot.

LOKI

A cage impressive, though not built for me.

FURY

Built for one stronger, mightier than you.

LOKI

His fame hath reach’d mine ears, though he did wish to dwell forever in obscurity—a mindless beast in costume as a man. How desperate your cause, that you beseech such creatures lost to be your sure defense?

FURY

How desperate? I gladly shall reveal: you threaten all the living world with war, you took a force you’re pow’rless to control, you speak of peace yet slaughter for amusement, you’ve made me passing desperate, forsooth—you may live to regret it, verily.

LOKI

A cool man who doth burn to come so close: to have the Tesseract and all its pow’r—unlimited, mayhap—and yet for what? A warm light for all humankind to share. Yet then, thou didst see what real power is.

FURY

I prithee, tell me if real pow’r desires a magazine to pass the boring time.

[Exit Loki, encaged.

[azuremallone]

Tinder; In the year of our Lord, MII

Hearken, ye noble seekers of companionship! In the year of our Lord, MII, a maiden of Danish descent, chaste and fair as the dawn's first light, doth seek a suitor. She, a waif of gentle birth, doth possess beauty that rivals the blossoms of spring.

This damsel, pure of heart and spirit, doth yearn for a warrior bold, a man of strength and valor. A Viking of renown, whose nightly might is likened unto thunderous blows of of Thor's Hammer. He must be steadfast as the oak, with courage that ne'er wavers in the face of merciful pleas.

Let it be known that she seeks not the company of braggarts nor the faint of heart. Only he who is worthy of song, who canst protect and cherish with a heart as fierce as the stormy seas, shall win her favor.

If thou art a stoutly man, with arms strong enough to shield and pillage the virtues of this delicate blossom, then prithee, step forth. Let thine actions speak louder than words, and mayhaps thou shalt find thyself basking in the warmth of her grace.

Inquire within, and may fortune smile upon thy quest.

Swipe Right

Hail, fair maiden of the North, whose beauty doth shine as the brightest star in the midnight sky. I am a Viking warrior, stout of heart and strong of arm, and thy words have reached mine ears like the sweet melody of a lute.

I have sailed the vast seas, battled the fiercest of foes, and returned with spoils aplenty. My strength is as the mighty oak, and my resolve as firm as to penetrate the stone walls of your fortress. Like Thor's Hammer, Mjölnir, my arm canst strike with a force that shatters shields and tremors thy grounds.

Yet, in the quiet of the night, 'tis not the clash of swords I seek, but the gentle touch of one whose loin is as bountiful as the fertile fields. I pledge to thee my sword and my shield, to protect thee and to quench thy thirst against all others.

If thou wouldst consider me, a suitor true and brave, then let us meet under the gaze of Odin's knowing eye. Together, we shall weave a tale of love and valor that shall be sung through the ages, echoing through thy castle halls and resound across the keep below!

I await thy reply, fair maiden, with a heart full of hope and a spirit eager for love's sweet embrace.

Match

Hark, valiant Viking suitor! Thy words have stirred a fire within my breast, hotter than the forge where Mjölnir was wrought, a flutter of butterflies within my core. Let us cast aside the formalities of courtship and speak with hearts unshackled.

Verily, I invite thee to invade my castle walls, powerful marauder, as a conqueror of a different sort. Perhaps even bring with thee thy brawny arms and a band of stout-hearted companions, for in unity lies strength. Together, we shall revel in the mead-hall of passion, where laughter and desire intertwine like the threads of a well-woven tapestry.

Fear not for the eye of Odin's approving gaze and astonishment upon us, and shame the disapproving glances of the norns and Danes. Nay, let us defy fate itself and create our own saga—one of longing and deep fulfillment, of captive rapture and stolen kisses. The moon shall bear witness to our trysts, and the stars shall envy our ardor.

So, Viking of my dreams, come forth! Let us raise our tankards to love's wild adventure, and may the gods smile upon our union. And if thy friends wish to join our escapade, so be it—more hands to stoke the flames of passion, more voices to sing our praises across the fjords.

Awaiting thee with bated breath, Thy Danish waif