Obsessed with Merlin's main defense against getting caught as a warlock is that everyone else thinks he's incompetent
there's a method to my madness there's a secret to this town there's a reason why i'm still living here though i can't think of it right now
Who was going to tell me that Lucy Gray is a poem by William Wordsworth where she gets lost in the snow (!!!) and disappears, leaving people to wonder if she died or is still living??
"Yet some maintain that to this day She is a living Child, That you may see sweet Lucy Gray Upon the lonesome Wild. O'er rough and smooth she trips along, And never looks behind; And sings a solitary song That whistles in the wind."
I'm frothing at the mouth, how did I miss this?? This also just adds a little extra flavour to her choice of name for Haymitch's girlfriend, Lenore, because the Covey really were out there preserving literature and poetry by literally weaving it into their identities.
I don’t know how we’re letting trump get away with all this shit when I truly believe that if you threw a blanket over his head he would think it was nighttime and go to sleep like a bird
WIP of Bilbo enjoying a pipe. Now it’s time to do the color. I keep wanting to add more flowers and mushrooms. He deserves a chaotic cozy garden.
Should I keep posting WIPs or not?
to the great western wood (3/4)
(Inspired by^)
Their arguing grew louder, more aggressive. Neither meant to escalate it, but Bucky was stressed and upset, and Sam was frustrated with it all. Their situation got increasingly more complicated the more time went on, and that showed no signs of stopping now Zemo was involved.
Sarah-Grace watched them with big eyes, huddled in a thick coat that had been draped over her by said Sokovian fugitive. The material kept her lovely and warm, almost to the point of lulling the girl to sleep. But she hated noise, especially shouting. Usually, her uncle Bucky spoke softly, avoiding making too much noise for her benefit. Same with Sam.
Hearing it now, Sarah curled into the warmth of the coat, trying to block it all out. She knew they didn't mean to scare her, but it was just too much.
Accidentially, she caught Zemo's eyes, then shyed away from them. He scared her a little, despite being nothing but kind to her so far.
"Guys!" He hissed, stepping towards them.
"What?!" Sam and Bucky snapped simultaneously, glaring daggers at him.
"You're scaring Sarah," Zemo said icily.
Their faces immediately softened, and they exchanged regretful glances. Bucky frowned, quickly moving over to kneel in front of her.
"We're sorry, Gracie," he said, voice returned to its soft hum, "I got too wound up. Are you okay?"
She raised her head, whimpering a little. Bucky's heart clenched, deadly afraid to see her scared of him. The idea had plagued him since the moment he realised what Steve did - once the anger dried up enough for other emotions to come through.
With her curly blonde hair and shining blue eyes, lightly flecked with green, she resembled Steve so much it sometimes hurt. Bucky believed she deserved better than him as a parent, but couldn't bring himself to give her up. If he was honest, this female reincarnation of his best friend gave Bucky the will to wake up every day.
She smiled meekly, reaching out to wrap her fingers around his metal hand. "It's okay. Promise you won't argue anymore?"
Sam nodded, crouching down beside them. "Promise. Sorry, sweetie."
She stood from the coat to hug them, her short arms only able to wrap around their necks. They leaned in to hold her, both making mental notes to keep their disagreements more civil from then on.
Over their shoulders, Sarah saw Zemo watching, and smiled at him. He returned it, misty eyed, still turning over the turkish delight in his hand.
They. Just. Love. Each. Other. So. Much.
and he will roam forever, haunting the desert
dead man's hand - lord huron
EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP SCIENTISTS AT THE SCHMIDT OCEAN INSTITUTE HAVE FOOTAGE OF A LIVE COLOSSAL SQUID FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
🦑‼️🦑‼️🦑‼️🦑‼️🦑‼️🦑
"Namárië! Nai hiruvalyë Valimar!" // "...seanchas anns a’ Ghàidhlig, s’ i a’ chainnt nas mìlse leinn; an cànan thug ar màthair dhuinn nuair a bha sinn òg nar cloinn’..."
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