#will do a separate one for Blanche x Dorothy because there are too many for these darlings

[witchybitchybisexual]

Gonna leave some golden girls headcanons here and then I’ll do a separate one for Dorothy x Blanche (there are too many):

1. Sophia would teach them her Sicilian recipes and it’d be like private cookery classes. Blanche would struggle with it slightly but eventually get the hang of it with some half hearted instructions; Dorothy would be quite ‘clumsy’ with the ingredients and begs Blanche for help, but the two get a little… distracted. Sophia fondly (or not so fondly) curses them out in Italian. Rose is a natural and Sophia is very proud of her and calls her “My only worthy daughter”. That is, until Rose decides on her next attempt to add some Scandinavian twists and the 4 of them end up with mild food poisoning.

2. Dorothy and Rose share a love of musical theatre. Dorothy’s favourite is Les Misérables for its powerful message on social hierarchy and the way it advocates for compassion, human kindness and hope when fighting for justice, no matter what you’ve been through. It always makes her cry. Rose, choses the far more contemporary Matilda, and when asked, she says it reminds her of her childhood. Dorothy points out she wasn’t the smartest person in the world and Rose would roll her eyes and explain it was because she didn’t always pick up on social cues which would isolate her from other children, and later adults. This would fit in with @eeblouissant’s headcanon that Rose is autistic, since Matilda is also suspected to be too.

3. Sophia and Blanche sing Copacabana for Karaoke at every opportunity. No one knows how this tradition started, but every Sunday after the football the pair head down to the rusty anchor to serenade the guys. They adore Sophia, and Blanche improves on her singing after many, many, many weeks.

4. Every birthday, the other 3 girls make a homemade cheesecake instead of a regular cake and add candles. Rose sings in Swedish, Sophia in Italian and Blanche in French (even though she forgot most of it after finishing school) Dorothy is the only one who sings in English. However, after it gets too loud, they all sing in English the second time around!

5. Blanche is far richer than any of them realise - she’s from an old money family and married a wealthy guy; they know she’s well off, they just don’t realise HOW rich. The only reason she has roommates is for her own personal comfort so that she doesn’t feel as lonely after the kids left and George died. Plus, she wanted some more female friends too, so it was the perfect solution.

6. Sophia’s least favourite child is Gloria, and she praises her so much because she feels bad about it. Sophia loves Phil dearly but doesn’t understand him entirely. Dorothy’s her first baby, and the one she’s the most similar personality wise. Of course, she’s not crazy about the fact she put her into shady pines, but she appreciates all the things Dorothy puts up with for Sophia, even if she doesn’t always show it.

7. Sophia is protective of all of the girls, but has a well hidden soft spot for Rose. She loves them all equally, but she feels a certain need to protect Rose because of her naivety. Rose brings out her maternal side because she knows the other two are better at defending themselves. Obviously Rose can too, but they underestimate her abilities: though Sophia used her sarcasm to hide her concern for Rose’s mental health after they were burgled in S1.

8. Rose and Blanche paint each other’s nails. Blanche tries to coax Dorothy to let her paint her nails too (considering Blanche is Dorothy’s biggest weak spot) and sometimes she agrees, but most of the time the best friends practice on each other instead.

9. Sometimes when Dorothy’s particularly sad, she goes to Sophia’s room and makes Ma brush her hair to remind Dorothy of her simpler childhood days. One of the most comforting things in Dorothy’s life was when Sophia would wake her in the early hours of the morning to plait her hair; sometimes it hurt because Dorothy’s hair was naturally curly, but she’d never complain because it gave them more 1:1 time together without the burden of her siblings.

10. Rose was the smartest person in St Olaf - she taught them to go inside when it rains, she went to St. Gustav university to do Latin (I headcanon she got a 1st) and in my personal opinion the reason she knows so much about the town’s gossip was that she was a private investigator for the elite in St Olaf. And Bridget went to Oxford, so she must’ve got her intelligence from somewhere! She just doesn’t tell this information to the others as she doesn’t want them to feel bad about themselves.

11. Blanche suffered post-partum depression after Janet’s birth and that’s why they’ve got the worst relationship out of the children. Don’t get me wrong, Blanche wasn’t the mother of the year and had many faults, but she clearly had stronger bonds with the other 5. We don’t hear anything negative about the relationship with her sons, and Becky’s just seems like poor communication which is quickly resolved and they eventually become exceptionally close (particularly after the moving birth of Baby Oreo at the beginning of S6. With Janet, she was a new mother and considering PPD wasn’t recognised as a condition until the 1990s, she wouldn’t have gotten the right support either - probably trying to hide it to appear like the perfect wife and mother to her other high society friends. She adores Janet, but it definitely would’ve impacted their relationship.

12. Rose knits her own animal jumpers, basing them off the animals she remembers tending to on the farm. She also knits pride badges onto Dorothy and Blanche’s clothes and accessories to show support for them (and to get used to knitting different patterns.)

14. Blanche has a Diet Coke obsession like me. No further explanations needed.

15. Blanche first learned to cook from Mammy Watkins. Blanche clearly knows how to cook from the catering episode (was it one for the money?) and obviously she could’ve learned to cook as an older woman, but in my opinion she would’ve learned to cook from her Mammy. They were very close and Blanche was clearly the favourite Hollingsworth child; and she wasn’t close to her sisters (even though she was her brothers) so while she was cooking, it’d only be natural that they’d do it together. They’d have to hide it in case Mammy got in trouble though. Blanche wouldn’t have expected to cook and clean as a rich, married woman of that era as she probably would’ve had maids etc- but old habits die hard; especially the childhood ones.

16. Dorothy had a girlfriend before she met Stan. So did Blanche, but unlike Blanche, Dorothy tried to suppress the fact she was attracted to multiple genders after she and the girlfriend broke up, so she got drunk and slept with Stan to try and stop the pain in her heart. That’s one of the biggest what-ifs in her life :(

17. Blanche would be a fan of anything 50s-80s that’s remotely upbeat or popish, and is a big, big fan of Gwen Stefani, Madonna, Nina Simone and Ella Fitzgerald. Odd combos, but it works for her. Dorothy Likes Frank Sinatra, Cyndi Lauper, Prince and George Michael, and is a big fan of jazz, but listens to anything really. Sophia loves Boney M, Pavarotti, Cher (obviously) and she and Dorothy share a profound love for Eminem. Rose loves ABBA, Amy Grant, The Beatles and Nirvana.

[occasionalfics]

Warrior, v (Thor x Reader)

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

Summary: Everyone’s gearing up for the coming battle, but you learn something that changes everything.

A/N: So I had two sections that were not super short but not super long on their own. I could’ve posted them together, but that seemed like it would be almost too long for a single part, so instead, I’m posting them separately. That way, you guys get more Warrior for longer! 

Tags: @oknstark​ @httpmcrvel​ @a-girl-who-loves-disney​ @markusstraya​ @125bluemachine125​ @blvckxsoulz @jooheonie-bee (let me know if you want to be tagged!)

Words: 2,208 (like I said, not super short, not as long as the other chapters)

~~~ It appeared that Val was trustworthy after all. If she repeated anything of your story to Thor, he said nothing to you about it, at least. So you believed she kept the whole thing to herself, which you were grateful for. You would tell him, you insisted. One day. When he no longer mourned the death of his father and the loss of his home, you would tell him.

In the interim, you trained. Sometimes Thor trained, sometimes Val, but you had a long way to go before Thanos was to arrive. No one truly knew when that would be, just that he was on his way.

Captain America returned with the King of Wakanda as well as the Winter Soldier. You’d never met any of them - not even the Captain, truthfully. But you knew their fights were often fought for the greater good, so you took no offense. He seemed nice enough, if tense and maybe a bit protective of the Winter Soldier - who, at no point in your gazing at him, seemed like he needed protection. Tony Stark, however, glared at the man as if his eyes could make him explode.

The longer you trained, the more equipped for battle you became. It had been so long since you’d truly brandished your sword, too long since you’d joined an army. You slowly remembered why being a warrior had been so important to you on Asgard. It was your calling. You started to believe Val’s words when she said you would’ve made a good Valkyrie - perhaps not the best, but a Valkyrie nonetheless.

You said so to no one, but as the days dragged on, you wished Sif would arrive. You didn’t know if she would at all - how many of these Avengers did she know? How many times had she come to Midgard? Where was she, since Thor had assured you she hadn’t been destroyed by Hela the way Hogun, Fandral, and Volstagg had?

For the first time in over an hundred years, you missed Asgard. Truly missed it - the place, not simply the people that had made it home for you. You missed it in your heart, in your bones, in your dreams. You missed its sunshine, its mountain ranges, the Bifrost...

Your dreams were starting to drive you crazy. Every night, it was the same - a dream you’d had when you’d landed in Norway that had stopped months after you’d become accustomed to living on Midgard. A dark shadow crept up a wall, into a bedroom, and wrapped you in its cold arms. It made sure to cover your mouth, to keep you from screaming. It jumped from the window with you in its arms, then ran across the palace grounds until it brought you to the Bifrost and Heimdall. It threw you at the ground, watched as you skidded across the floor until you hit the wall. Heimdall jumped, and the shadow took form. It was Odin.

“Traitor!” he screamed, just before you woke up, shivering and covered in cold sweat.

You took to the showers after the dream. There was no other choice but to clean yourself off and tend to the garden, no matter if it were four in the morning or nine.

You were out there one morning before the sun came up. You’d just pulled a weed from the plot of a tulip when the door behind you shut.

“It’s a little early to be pulling weeds, don’t you think?” Thor asked.

You quickly glanced at him over your shoulder, then shook your head before going back to work. “Can’t sleep,” you said.

His footsteps approached until he was beside you, standing at his full height while you kneeled before the plots. “Me neither,” he said, then he sat beside you and fiddled with the branch of a fern.

“Be careful with Dorothy, please,” you said. “She may look strong, but she’s quite frail against the hands of a God, especially one that wields lightning.”

He laughed softly. “Of course you named them,” he said.

You nodded to the plant in front of you. “This one is Blanche. That one,” you pointed to the rose plot next to you, “is Rose, obviously. The succulent next to Dorothy is Sophia.”

“Those are...peculiar names,” he said.

“They’re the cast of an old television show here,” you said. “The Golden Girls, because these four are my favorites. Just don’t tell Rock and Dean across the patio. They fancy themselves rebels without a cause.” You glared at the tomato and pepper plants by the door.

“Were you friends with these people?” he asked, still inspecting Dorothy’s leaves.

You shook your head. “Just a fan. The woman that played Rose is the only member of the cast still living. Hilarious woman, Betty White is. You’d love her.”

“If she’s anything like you, I’m sure I would.”

You stopped rummaging around Blanche and stared at him. You didn’t tell him that you were nothing like Betty White, but thought that surely, after 200 years and New Mexico, Thor had moved on. You would not hold it against him, nor hope against hope that he still held a flame for you. It would be ridiculous to think otherwise; Odin had made sure of that. You’d convinced yourself of it.

But then, people did not say things like that without meaning.

“Are you not scared of Thanos coming?” he asked.

Scared was not a word you thought was in his vocabulary. Thor was the bravest man you’d ever known. Sometimes he was so brave that he was stupid, but you didn’t mind that so much. It made his life interesting, to say the least. That’s what he would’ve said the last time you’d seen him on Asgard, anyway. You wondered what he’d say now, eyepatch, short hair, and all.

“Captain America had to bring the Winter Soldier out of a cryogenic slumber,” you said, sitting back on your heels. “Of course I’m scared. But we are large in number and ability.”

“He has the Infinity Stones.”

“Captain America?” you asked.

Thor shook his head. “Thanos. I know not how many he possesses, but he’s on a quest for them.”

You could feel your eyes go wide. “That’s why he’s coming, isn’t it?” you asked. You knew, somewhere in the compound, was a small glowing box that Loki had once possessed - all details you’d learned in the aftermath of what happened in Manhattan. The Tesseract.

“The Guardians gave the Orb to the Nova Corp. Sif and Volstagg gave the Aether to Taneleer Tivan, the Tesseract is here, and Vision…” He trailed off.

You’d had few interactions with the humanoid artificial intelligence named Vision, though you’d lived with him for some time. Your eyes widened when you thought of him, though. In the center of his forehead laid a small yellow gem.

“He is one of them, isn’t he?” you asked. “The Mind Stone.”

Thor nodded. “There are already too many here alone. Xandar will never be able to fend off Thanos from getting the Power Stone. He may have some trouble finding the Reality Stone in that museum of Tivan’s, but it won’t be long before he has that one, too. The Space, Mind, and Time Stones won’t be safe when he arrives. The latter is being kept by Doctor Stephen Strange, who should be arriving any day.”

“And the Soul Stone?” you asked.

He shook his head. “No one knows who has it or where it is. My best guess is that, if Thanos is not already in possession of it, he will be. Soon.”

You sat back further, your toes curling so they weren’t supporting your weight on their own anymore. It dawned on you that it would not matter how much you trained, if Thanos acquired all six Infinity Stones. Your nightmares seemed like nothing in comparison.

You hadn’t noticed until then, but your breathing had gone uneven. You leaned forward, digging your nails into the soil around Blanche. You couldn’t blink, could barely heave a breath past your throat, which was clogging with nothing. “There will be no stopping him,” you said, shaking your head as the rest of your body convulsed. Images of everything you had - everything around you - being destroyed, turned into dust, all flashed before your mind’s eye. “He’ll take everything.”

“We won’t let him,” Thor said, leaning forward to encroach on your quickly blurring vision.

“How?” you asked. “He’ll be too powerful. Who are we, compared to a tyrant with all six of the Stones? What could we possibly do if he has the Gauntlet?”

He had no answer. Of course he didn’t. There was no answer to give. There was only darkness, an abyss of nothing before you that was much worse than any shadow. It was all shadows combined with the object of exiling all life on Midgard.

You looked at him, forcing yourself to stop moving so much. “I spent so long waiting for you to come back to me,” you whispered. “And now that you have, it will mean nothing.”

Again, he was silent.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, looking at Blanche for a moment, unsure of who, exactly, you were apologizing to. Were you failing Thor or the plant by letting Thanos come and destroy all you held dear? Without an answer, you stood suddenly and turned back toward the door. “I have to go.”

He caught up with you before you had your hand on the doorknob. “Where are you going?” he asked, still quietly.

Your arms tensed, and your fists balled. You could hardly stand to have his hand on you. “I...I don’t know. I just...I can’t sit here and talk anymore.” You tried to reach for the door, but he wouldn’t budge. You glared at him as you said, “I have to do something.” Then you focused on the sleeve of his shirt, unsure of what would happen if you dared look at his eye for too long.

Would your resolve break? Would the world? Would it matter, now that you knew what Thanos was after? Everything else felt so miniscule and meaningless, but somehow that made you only more secretive and guarded. If divulging felt inappropriate before, it felt downright ludicrous now.

“What are you going to do on your own?” he asked. “What could you possibly think is going to change right now?”

You shut your eyes, took in a deep breath, then let it out. “I. Don’t. Know.”

His grip tightened. It almost hurt, but you were tense, and you knew that had something to do with it. “Please,” he said. “Before...before everything falls apart, I have to tell you something.”

You shook your head, glaring at the ground. “No, you don’t.” It would mean nothing. You could do nothing about whatever it was he wanted to say. At the end of the day or week or month, everything would be gone, and any action you took now would be absolutely null and void.

“(Y/N),” he said.

“Stop, Thor.” You allowed yourself to look him in the eye before you went on. “Something bigger than anything we’ve ever dealt with is coming. There’s no reason to waste your breath.”

“Breath cannot be wasted,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes at the absurd saying. When his eye met yours again, his brows were harshly furrowed, perhaps to make up for the lack of fire in the socket behind his eyepatch. The other eye burned hot as you looked upon him. “Why are you so insistent on denying the expression of my feelings?”

You paused. You’d known what he wanted to say, or at least some part of you did. But now was not the time - that you knew with absolute certainty. Now was the time to sharpen your sword, to somehow find a suit of armor, to say your goodbyes. If Thanos was heading for Midgard, where three of the six Infinity Stones could be found, there was no hope for tomorrow. Not anymore.

“Because there has always been a tyrant between us,” you said, your head suddenly too full and hot. Your vision blurred with tears that pooled along your lower lid. “Because there has never been a good time for us, Thor. And now…” A tear streaked across your face, and you wiped it away just as quickly.

He sighed, and his shoulders slumped. It wasn’t so much a comforting gesture, but rather a releasing of tension as a reaction to feeling hopeless. You just couldn’t figure out if he’d given up trying to talk to you, or if he’d stopped believing anyone could defeat Thanos.

“Fine,” he whispered, letting go of your hand over the doorknob. “You’re right. I apologize.”

You didn’t move at first. You searched his gaze for some reason, for an answer he couldn’t give. Or maybe you’d kept too many things from him, and he no longer trusted you with answers. Either way, he looked away from you, out toward the horizon, then stepped away from the door.

You opened the door, stepped through the threshold, then stopped and turned around. “I’m sorry,” you said. “I promise that this is the last time I will ever hurt you, Thor Odinson.”