#i fcking hate sam

[hermits-crab]

FLUFF ALPHABET W/ SAM — STARDEW VALLEY

SUMMARY: The Fluff Alphabet by @snk-warriors featuring Sam!

CONTAINS: sfw, gn! reader, fluff, established relationship

NOTES: My second favorite bachelor, I love this fcking guy <3

A = Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Sam really enjoys playing the guitar for you! And if you play too, even better! He loves having jam sessions together.

B = Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

Sam loves your lips and eyes. He loves that your eyes can be so cute or so seductive, and that your lips always look so kissable.

C = Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

Hugging is Sam’s go-to for comforting someone. He’s a very good hugger. He’ll hold you close and let you hide in his chest. He’s not always good with words so he’ll take to petting your head while reminding you that you’re okay and safe.

D = Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He likes the idea of being your rocker boyfriend/husband; having you along for the ride as he tours or in the studio when recording a new song. After that, he’s sure he wants to be a dad and raise a family with you!

E = Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

He’s neither dominant nor passive. He respects you and your work and hopes you do as well! He never wants to intrude on your work and he’ll only help if you ask him to.

F = Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

He hates arguing. He avoids it at all costs. If you start arguing, he’ll roll over like a dog and apologize, saying he was wrong (even if he wasn’t—something he’s working on). After you’ve had some space from each other, he’s the first to apologize, coming up behind you with a hug and kissing your neck and shoulders. Try as you might, it’s so hard to stay mad at him!

G = Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

It’s not something he dwells on too often. Not that he isn’t grateful—he is!—but the thought doesn’t really cross his mind. When he does, he gets a big, goofy grin on his face when he thinks about all the ways he’s grateful for you and your life together. He feels like the people in his life don’t take him seriously, except you and he’s grateful for that.

H = Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Sam is a very honest person! He’s always had trouble lying to his mother. He doesn’t really do anything worth lying about either and he’s very open. He’s likely to forget to tell you about something but he’d never keep anything from you intentionally, unless he thought it was in your best interest that he did.

I = Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

You’ve both changed each other in different ways! Sam has taught you to have more patience and you’ve helped Sam to be more organized. You’ve helped people to see that he’s not an immature kid anymore but a responsible young man with a sense of humor.

J = Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

He rarely ever gets jealous—he trusts you with his whole being! But if he does, he doesn’t get mad or anything but he starts getting really clingy and physically affectionate. More than usual.

K = Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He was ready to kiss you the minute you entered your relationship. While he is a good kisser, he is also sloppy. Your first kiss together was a little intense because he kissed you like a man starved. It wasn’t planned either so he definitely tasted like pizza or cola.

L = Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Like any desirable man, he sneaks you through his bedroom window and hides you from the prying eyes of his mother.

M = Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Sam doesn’t feel one way about marriage. He’d be happy as your boyfriend or as your husband! But if he were to… he’ll initially want to propose to you on stage at one of his concerts. Luckily, his friends talk him out of that, saying that could put pressure on you to say ‘yes’, or you saying ‘no’ could be humiliating for you both. He asks his parents for advice; Kent suggesting somewhere sentimental and Jodi suggesting somewhere romantic. He ends up not being able to contain his excitement long enough to go through with any plan. He proposes to you as you’re walking back to the farm one night. It actually proves to be perfect; the two of you alone, under the stars.

N = Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Babe, baby, cutie, girly/pretty girl (if you’re a woman), mama/daddy (if you have children or are expecting). They’re basic and a little juvenile but you love them! He gets nervous when you don’t call him a nickname, assuming the worst lol.

O = On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Sam is already a bubbly and optimistic person. But when he starts dating you, he can’t wipe the dopey smile off his face! He no longer dreads going into work (which Shane quickly picks up on), he practically slips through town, and he can’t keep his hands off of you. It’s obvious, to say the least.

P = PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He’s so excited to announce that you’re dating when you start! Definitely not shy to kiss or hug you in public. He’s physically affectionate with all of his friends though so unless he kisses you, an onlooker might assume you’re just friends.

Q = Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

Sam is a very good listener! He’ll listen intently as you boast, complain, cry, or talk about nothing. He’s also very agreeable. Did someone piss you off? Yeah, they suck! Got cash-back and want to use for a getaway together? Sure, he’d love to spend some quality time with you!

R = Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He tries to be romantic but he’s a bit clumsy. He tries to make you your favorite food but messes up the recipe. Or he runs a bath for you with rose petals and scented oil but when you enter the bathroom, the tub has overflowed. It’s the thought that counts!

S = Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

Absolutely! He’ll assist you in anyway you ask him to. He feels it’s only fair since you’ve helped him so much before with his band and defending him from his mother and Mayor Lewis.

T = Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Sam loves some thrill and adventure! He’s so happy being with you but he gets a bit antsy so every week, you two go out and do something new. Attend a local concert, eat at a different restaurant, go dancing—whatever strikes you interest!

U = Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

He is very empathetic. He’s not very confrontational so while he will get mad on your behalf, he’s more inclined to feel sad when you are. He absolutely hates seeing you cry and might shed a few tears when you do (but he’ll never let you see).

V = Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

All of Sam’s relationships are very important to him! He wouldn’t think twice before sacrificing his stuff, or Yoba forbid, himself if it ever came down to it. He’s quite impulsive already so he definitely has before when it really wasn’t necessary. But it goes to show just how far he’s willing to go for you.

W = Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

Sam teaches you how to skateboard, if you don’t know how to already! He makes you wear knee and elbow pads (partly for his own amusement). He’s so proud of you once you start to learn! He also offers to teach you how to play the guitar. You have little jam sessions together where he leads, while you’re still learning.

X = XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

If you didn’t already know how, Sam has taught you how to skateboard! He insists you wear knee and elbow pads (even though you hate how dorky they make you look, that’s part of the fun for him). He’ll also teach you how to play guitar if you don’t know how to either! He loves bonding with you this way and he’s always so excited when you get something right!

Y = Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

He’s kinda very clingy and hates to see you go! He texts you every so often to check in and remind you not to overwork yourself. Huge golden retriever vibes in the sense that he’ll greet you at the door, kissing your face and hugging you tight. Expect him to be all over you for a while after you come back.

Z = Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

He’d do just about anything to prove himself to you. One way he does this is by learning your favorite songs and playing them on the guitar for you! He makes sure he gets them just right before he preforms. Sometimes, he offers to sing and play them softly to you as you fall asleep.

— HAVE A REQUEST? SUMBIT IT HERE! • READ MORE

[lirhyapetitpain]

What are some of your other Sam ships?

Mmmmmmh, I like Sam (either as the Leader or his human persona but mostly human persona tbh) / Joe Fixit obviously, though I mostly draw Joe in his human form because I have a hard time drawing Hulks lmao

I like Sam/Doom too, they have a fun "bitter ex" rivalry in Fall of the Hulks and in most other medias Sam is litteraly a Doom simp who got his heart broken sooooooooooooo. I never really drew them, except that one time when I made an April Fool with a fake Sam/Doom doujinshi back when I was still using Facebook sooooo 5-6 years ago or so

Sam/Emil is a nice MCU ship too, I'm not into it in comics though but in MCU I'm 100% in (also MCU Sam and MCU Justin Hammer, they litteraly never interracted so it's 100% crackshipping but their dumbass moron energy match)

Sam (human persona)/Mercy, it had a lot of potential before the writing team changed (I had A HUGE love/hate relationship with Sam's Thunderbolts era because the first half of his writing was FLAWLESS and SO INTERESTING, having Human Sam's pov through a Leader body for once and not the Leader through a human one of whatever, having the Leader trying to talk with him etc... It was pretty cool until another team took over and wrote the worst most out of character Sam EVER, what a waste)

I loved Alba/Sam in the first pages, their deadly rivalry and all. Unfortunatly this ship was poorly written and way too rushed so they kinda wasted a very good ship THAT WAS CANON for once (at least until Sam dumps her ass a few days after that lmao)

There's probably more I'm not thinking about atm. I have some "NOPE, NO FCKING WAY, STAY THE FCK AWAY FROM ME" ship I hate with all my guts but not that much tbh and I'm okay with pretty much everything else

[slashtakemylife]

And one more rant because I can, now on the steve bucky discourse

Steve and Bucky never got able to be friends again

The overall plot and massiveness that is the MCU definitely fcked them over.

Steve and Bucky never manage to just be friends again, the last time they could just be friends was probably back in WWII

In Cap 2 is obvious as they just reunite

In Civil War is probably the one and only time we get to see them be themselves in that one scene, not just speak as pals how they used to but also being able to fight side by side and even coordinated showing how close they know each other, however you have to remember in this setting they are currently in a mission and actively being targeted, they can just steal these moments really.

After that... yeah no...

Immediately also in Civil War, Bucky gets frozen again, we know he's getting some sort of therapy and we can just infer that Steve may visit and if you tell me there's like a throw away line of a cast or director saying like "oh he totally visited," I'd believe you but again, one, off screen, two, Bucky is still very much in rehabilitation.

The only time we finally see Bucky emerge washed and smiling, promising he's in a better place... it's in infinity war and y'all see where this is going

They got a hug, a few smart quips at each other but again, small stolen moments, they are literally about to go to battle and even fight separately, like I get it, I also wouldn't expect them to redo what already happened in civil war, still same point, they are just there and ofc the snap happens

They literally just reunited, Bucky is in a better place, they may just be able to just be friends, be around each other but ofc there's a war and of fcking course Bucky has to get wiped because otherwise why would Cap fight the snap if it's not for Bucky again, sigh.

This is exhausting

And ofc we can't forget what happens next, Fxking Endgame happens, once again, they may get a few quips, they may have a few moments but mind you this is exactly after Tony died and let's not forget Natasha has also died, I doubt there was much chance to just have a little, let's chat up like good old time as if nothing is weight on you or me, in this case is mostly on Steve's side

Bucky is as best as he is but ofc Steve is still going through everything and then ofc what happens immediately.

They again get a few quips and suddenly in less than a second, they go from finally being able to just sit down and be pals... to Steve fxking off into the past and all Bucky is left with is an old man.

Sure they can talk but honestly the pressing feeling of his friend is now really close to death... I doubt it made a good setting.

After all that hardship, after all that fighting against the universe to finally let them be at peace... they still can't go back to just being pals without the world being a shit show and honestly that's just fcking sad

As it stands right now, Bucky's had more interaction with Sam just by the fact they did the whole show together than what Steve and Bucky had over the span of several movies and even years.

So yeah add that to my on growing list of shit I hated about that fcking ending

[pacifymebby]

do you not think following accounts like that is giving them a bigger platform to spew their beliefs which can be deemed wrong or offensive though? If youre following people who openly vote trump then okay yes you may not support that but youre only allowing their content to grow and it probably makes them think they have more support to spread their message to. I understand where you are coming from, I just think that following people, in particular controversial people, does speak volumes about the media you are wanting to consume

I'm not gonna lie, in this day and age when social media works the way it does, not really... Like I think sharing their posts/liking their posts is "encouraging" but I think following an account doesn't mean much anymore. Someone like Joe Rogan would spew his shit to 5 or 5 million people... I've watched that man do wank standup to a room full of bored people and still make a rape joke with his full chest, yeah the follows will boost his ego and give him a half truth way of being like "all these people follow me so I must be right" but the whole world knows just cause all these people follow someone doesn't make them "right".

idk what it's like for you but scrolling my timeline I get shown content from about 20 of the accounts I follow, and my close friend's stories come up at the top... There are accounts I'm following that I NEVER see on my timeline... And i guess it's because we're all following such a high volume of accounts now unlike how it used to be.

I'd say as well I think we all choose to view the content we see through our own lens, yes I may choose to watch an Andrew Tate video (just an example I don't follow Andrew Tate lol) but that doesn't mean I'm then taking in his beliefs and choosing to believe them... I'm critiquing them, laughing at them, talking to my friends about how fcking scary he is etc... That's what I mean by like you don't know whether someone is hate following or like following to vaguely keep track of things etc... You also don't know how long someone's been following someone or whether they even still know they are following someone... Maybe I'm giving Sam too much credit here but before Joe Rogan was the way he is now, he was just some "dumb idiot" asking "smart people" to explain interesting things so that idiots can understand them... The guy used to appeal to a lot of "good" men...

There's also the fact that everything is so algorithmic anyway and regardless of whether a man follows Joe Rogan, he will get pushed him every day. Me and my friends quite like to play a "how many clicks" game on YouTube of how many clicks on random videos before you get given Andrew Tate or Joe Rogan or whatever, my male friends lose so fast and it's literally just cause YouTube knows they're male, 20-30 and into football.

Like I do understand what you mean, but I don't think that following someone is the same as giving them your mark of approval, and that ultimately if you're looking at who he follows, you can only make assumptions about his reasons for that and not actually know the full story. I think it's just good to treat strangers with the nuance you might allow your own mates... Like I said, if he was my mate I'd rip into him for the Joe Rogan follow, I'd call him a podcast bro, ask him if he just really fuckin loves Punk IPA or whatever haha... But I'd know the wider context and I'd know what he was like as an actual person so I wouldn't be like "this follow here means you are actually immoral and bad bye"

Again sorry for talking so much, I guess I just think it's a complicated subject and needs nuance so I can't answer in like two sentences cause it just doesn't cover everything haha.

Edit: just to clarify... I think it's good to call your mates out about things like that but I don't think it's helpful for large groups of strangers on the internet to all start shouting at someone at once about something, cause it's overwhelming and like just proven not to actually work to change views. So often the "angry mob" thing only ever seems to further push people on the absolute fringe of a political idea right into the heart of the extremists because whilst everyone on the outside is telling someone they are stupid/evil the cult with the extremist views are saying "see everyone hates you for expressing your own opinion, this world has gone mad, come to us we'll validate and protect you..."

[allthingsdarkanddirty]

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Only one thing can save my career...a fake relationship with the man I hate.

When I first met NFL superstar Sam Hartley, I didn’t know my life was about to go up in flames… Or that he was the reason why. As lead singer of the rock band Sin City, I thought I had it all. It was a long a** climb to get to the top of the world. And when that world shattered, the fall was fcking bone crushing. Two years later, the sexy tight end barrels back into my life. He thinks he can swoop in and become my white knight. But payback is a b*tch. His savior complex is his problem, not mine. And now that I’ve hit rock bottom, I’m going to drag Sam right down with me.

[stellar-solar-flare]

So, Anika, I'm actually going to be doing this comment in a few parts to ensure I can give this the full attention it needs because my gods I love it! So I hope you don't mind a few reblogs instead of one and not hearing everything I think at once because my poor brain can only survive so much protective knight Steve before it blue-screens to death.

As I have mentioned, I really really love these two, and I'm super excited to dive into the continuation of their story. I know I was pestering you about this one and it deserves way more love than it has so far gotten (and I myself have not done a very good job at commenting in a prompt manner, sorry about that). I am so so excited to be here now.

Cut for length/spoiler reasons.

I wonder, with the notes in the first part about how it was too early to reveal the pregnancy to Steve and the way she thought how her daughter might grow in a better world was her foresight and it had to do with this. Because I imagine that Steve would have had even harder time asking her to come here to help if he had known - if he had taken the route of just going to her and leaving the country, even if it meant abandoning his values and vows and not attempting to help the innocent.

And oh, what a beautiful way to start the story, even as the events that happen to Tony are not so beautiful. I love how you set the stage here with all the different sensory elements, and how it forms this sort of… record scratch when Tony’s situation is revealed. I love the contrast here.

on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana.

Hi AD, lol. That’s not her name in my headcanons but hehe. Sorry, I had to. Also I enjoyed seeing Thor and Jane together because I’ve definitely shipped them since Thor I.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

We love Banner being good at his job and not caring whose ass he has to kick to be that.  

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool.

Are you sure about that, authoress? I mean… Considering some of the avenues I know he’ll yet to take in the story. But I definitely think Howard is in character here, and I love how you describe him – and Steve’s silent disapproval, too.

“It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

Oh, wolfsbane. No wonder that it’s not the easiest thing to treat. And poor Pepper – I’m glad that Clint at least cares about her sorrow.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

Ah, Bucky Barnes, attempting (and mostly failing) to stop Steve from being a dumbass in every universe. I’m glad here he had Sam for support, too – good quick thinking, Sam! If only he knew most of the damage had already done at the ‘getting married to a witch and getting her pregnant’ part. Also I fcking hate Howard here.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

I enjoyed seeing that in addition to the whole ‘not wanting the innocent to die’ there was also this more selfish motive of Steve wanting to protect his beloved here. At least that’s what I thought was implied here – in addition to, of course, preventing the war and also ensuring that he could remain close to her. I always enjoy people having layered reasons for doing things.

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat. He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted.

And while it hurts my heart to see all this, I still enjoyed how hard it was for him to make this call – I love the description of the nausea clawing its way up his throat.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

Steve Rogers at his very core essence, thank you very much. We love him and he deserves absolutely everything.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

LOL. I mean. Steve, darling, what exactly did you expect. And ugh, learning about Howard’s attitude towards women is no surprise but also makes me wish that the poison would be in his heart instead.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

And I enjoyed seeing Bucky’s shock here. At his core he is probably not surprised, but he’s been taught all this propaganda about witches, and his arguments do make sense. It really highlights the gravity of what Steve is about to do here, what sort of risk he’s taking, when even Bucky, who very much knows how Steve would never endanger innocents and all that, is this taken aback by the idea.

“Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

Ah, protective “I am willing to scorch the earth for her” Steve my absolute beloved. It’s a few hundred years too early for nuclear Armageddon but the spirit is there alright.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

Ohhhhh I LOVED the parallel of this to the way that we see Steve make his choice in Civil War and becoming a nomad to someone he considers family and loves.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Bucky Barnes needing a drink in every universe. But I agree with Steve here. It’s not foolish and I love the description and the reference to the Bible(? I think that’s a callback to Corinthians and if so, I adore you capturing this medieval spirit of folk beliefs and biblical things coexisting in Medieval Europe for a long long time, some might say to this day).

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s– she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

And I agree with you on this one, Bucky would definitely be hurt, and I feel like he’s only resigning here because he knows Steve will do whatever Steve will deem necessary to go to her. Like there’s no stopping him when he gets this way and  Bucky of all people is definitely the one to know that.

Alright, alright, we are at the cut, and I have this anticipation for the future developments in my stomach. Eek. But I know there’s a happy ending, so I shall strap in to enjoy the ride into it.

I haven’t said it enough but you are so talented and amazing, and I adore this universe and your take on both Steve in all universes and this specific Steve so, so much, so thank you for sharing your gifts with us.

Ochranuj me (Protect Me) - S.R.

Part 1/2

Type: medieval/fantasy/fairy tale AU; a part of this pseudomedieval-fantasy AU

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 8,6k

Summary:  Your practice of magic is punishable by death. Your love is forbidden by law; and yet it has been blessed, more than he knows.

When the crown prince is poisoned, Knight Steven Rogers is faced with a choice: will he risk a war or the love of his life?

And what of you? If asked… shall you risk it all? For the lands where you live… for your knight?

Warnings: attempted murder, poisoning, blood, mentions of death, polytheism, mentions of pregnancy (reader/OFC), Slovak language ‘cause I can

A/N: Actual title is Ochraňuj mě (Protect Me) ...tumblr cannot handle a ň in their title 🙃 DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; fits after the events of the previous instalments

A/N 2: This is one less smut and more plot, forgive me 🤭 I hope you'll enjoy anyway. Yes, the Merlin inspo is real here. Inspo also from Bílá laň by Vesna. For music, check it out here, for visuals here.

Chodila, chodila za tebou bílá laň lásky se napila navzdory všem přísahám. Prosila pány lesa ať ji pustí za tebou zažít si, jaké to je jít za srdce ozvěnou.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Jako bílá laň svoji duši chraň, ať záři neztratíš.

Tady je tvůj háj, tady je tvůj ráj, jinam nepatříš. Tak ať nepotká tě kříž. (kříž, kříž, kříž) - Bílá laň by Vesna

Boisterous laugh. Wine poured in gallons painting cheeks nearly just as ruddy as the warmth of the torches illuminating the high halls of the Starkerbürg castle painted the walls. Rich aroma of butter, oils, meats and spices flowing in the air, clinking of the most precious silverware and a distant sound of flutes as the musicians tasked to raise the already high spirits could be barely heard over the noise of the feast.

Under the watchful eye of the gods or the only God it was now believed there was, a celebration of peace was raving, everything but peaceful and serene; loud and overwhelming instead, a whirlwind of emerald green threaded with gold welcomed by the steady colours of rich crimson and gold. An anniversary of the peace made between the kingdom of Asgard and Starkerbürg, a party led by Thor Odinson, the king of the lands, honouring the deal his late father King Odin had made right before his passing.

The high table with King Howard sitting at the centre, his son Anthony, the crown prince, by his right, along with the woman he was courting, Pepper of the Potts; on her right, King Howard’s daughter, Princess Morgana. On the king’s left, the guests of honour; King Thor, his wife Queen Jane, and his brother Prince Loki. Knights and warriors of the highest ranks, lords and ladies of nobility joining the celebrations, servants all but running around the hall to tend to everyone’s needs.

Then, a sound of a chalice hitting the stone floor, one that would have been met with more laughter, had it not fallen from Prince Anthony’s hand, suddenly scarily pale and trembling. Cold to touch too, a terrifying contrast to his burning forehead glistening with sweat. Body sliding down the chair, barely even faint frantic motions to his chest.

Brief, deafening silence.

The traitorous calm before a storm would hit and leave nothing but death and destruction in its wake.

Chaos.

Swords drawn.

A wave of threats of violence.

A thundering voice of the King of Starkerbürg himself.

Calls for the royal physician Banner.

Images of peace and joy shattered; a single inconspicuous calm face among the sea of others in the face of a tragedy in making.

“Poison. I cannot determine what kind as of yet. Carry His Royal Majesty to his chambers!” the physician called out, not bothered by the fact he was ordering around knights and other nobility. “At once! There is no time to spare!”

Knights practically tripping over each other to tend to their prince, to their future ruler, to their brother in arms even as by rank he stood high above them. Rustle and grunts; a whisper of skirts as the culprit slipped away in the midst of disarray and cries of fear for the prince and the future of both kingdoms alike.

To think that an attack at the crown happening during the presence of a party of another kingdom – one similarly strong – was but a coincidence, would have been foolishly naïve.

Oh there were no such coincidences; this was but the first step towards a war.

And the perpetrator would be treated with that in mind.

“Aconite, most likely,” sounded the verdict, the words solemn on the physician’s lips as he fearfully raised his gaze to the King hovering over his shoulder as he inspected the second most important patient of the kingdom at the royal chambers.

The dark note in Banner’s voice snapped Steven from the haze as he, Sir Barnes, Sir Barton and Sir Wilson stood along the walls of Anthony’s chambers, tall and menacing, but just as helpless as Prince Anthony’s betrothed seated in the corner.

Whatever poison the physician was talking about, it was not known to Steven; but the message written in Banner’s expression was clear as day and terrifying like a night to be spent in the woods with rumoured presence of ghouls.

Inevitable death.

It was true that King Howard Stark might have yet to comprehend, despite his long years of ruling his lands, that one might catch more flies with sugar than vinegar, gain more by threading his actions with kindness than by spitting threats of violence; but he was no fool. He perceived the solemnity of the announcement and received it with a shadow over his already distorted features.

“This… aconite, Banner. What kind of a poison is that?” he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest, but not bending. Not under the weight on the crown on his head, nor under the weight of the tidings he might be scared to receive. His face was but a mask of stern indifference; a silent warning to Banner to choose his next words carefully.

As if stating the patient’s condition was a choice, Steven thought darkly, his heart pounding painfully against his ribcage as he exchanged glances with his best friend standing by his side. When he looked back at the physician, he could see him swallow dryly even from the several feet distance. Yet, the brave man faced the King with his head held high and his expression filled with sorrow.

“A deadly kind, Your Royal Majesty,” Banner said slowly. Rage flashed on the King’s face, Steven’s stomach dropping at both the sight and the worst tidings brought. Death. “It is made from the nectar-filled blossoms or the tubers of the Aconitum lycoctonum flower. There is… no cure known to man.”

A sniffle sounded in the corner of the room, completely ignored except for Sir Barton’s compassionate glance towards the woman who was on the brink of despair at the mere thought of the man she had clearly already learned to love leaving this world forever.

The King beckoned to the guards standing by the door, making them instantly step forward with their spears ready, heading for Banner menacingly.

Steven’s feet twitched as he wanted to step forward to protect the physician, outrage rising at the injustice even as fear twisted his stomach.

Sir Barnes brushed his hand discreetly to stop him.

Steven gritted his teeth, but stayed put for now, watching the scene unfold with disdain.

Sir Barnes was correct in one thing: Anthony being poisoned and having his life hanging on a thread was horrible enough, and rash decisions and actions such as standing up to the King would only make it worse.

A raging man was an unwise man; and the King was only a man too, even as he compared himself to various deities and had nearly as much power as them – which only rendered him more dangerous. There was no point in scaring the physician to death or even hurting him, but such was the King’s power. Such was his God-given right to punish whoever as he pleased. It mattered little that Banner could barely be blamed for-

-for the crown prince’s impending death, apparently.

“Then I advise you, Banner, to find one fast,” King Howard sneered as the guards stood behind the physician now. “Otherwise, you shall meet the same fate as whoever of Asgard dared to try and rob me of my son.”

The guards grabbed the man’s shoulders and Steven’s hand instinctively went for his sword again; and he was not the only one. Still, the knights stood, hesitant to disobey their King even in the face of the glaring injustice, fighting an inner battle between honour and goodness of heart and the oath they had taken. Their loyalty was to the kingdom and the King represented it most of all, after all; even if he seemed to threaten it the most of all, too, at the moment.

Well, not on Steven’s watch.

“Wait!” he called out as he stepped forward, earning a hard glare from the King himself that should have told him to keep quiet and fall in line, but he could not. Not even for Bucky’s audible sigh behind him. Not when-

“Is there anything we can do for him as of now, is what we are trying to ask,” Sir Wilson spoke up before Steven could, moving to stand next to him.

Steven took a deep breath as his gaze flickered to his comrade, finding his face arranged in a carefully crafted humbleness – as it should be in the face of the ruler even when he was addressing the physician.

Banner’s words were kind, his voice firm and regretful.

“I am afraid there isn’t, good Sir.”

“The Royal Guard and all the knights have a clear mission given by the crown, Sir Wilson,” the King barked as he gestured for the physician to be dragged away, the poor man allowing it without a protest. King Howard’s gaze fell on his son’s pale face as he lied on the bed with nothing but soundless whimpers on his lips, before he snapped back to the four knights present. “Arrest all servants and nobility of Asgard. I shall have the King and his brother for myself. And should my son meet his forefathers, I shall have their heads on a spike by tomorrow.”

With those words, he turned on his heel and stepped out, his leave abruptly followed by Anthony’s wife-to-be rushing to her betrothed’s side, cheeks damp with tears.

Steven regarded the scene unfolding, frozen with horror and unease greater than anyone.

He feared the death of his friend, naturally, as they had just dragged the one single person with any chance of curing Anthony in the whole kingdom away from his bedside.

But Steven feared a lot more deaths too. Should Prince Anthony die, King Howard would unleash pure hell on Asgard and as a consequence, on all Starkerbürg as well.

All the knights knew that; everyone knew that. They all had a heavy feeling in their stomach at the mere thought, their feet slow and unwilling as they left the chambers one by one. Yet, Steven’s heart was heavier.

The thought had occurred to him when he had wondered what exactly the King was expecting from Banner.

To turn back time so the prince had never got poisoned?

To pray to the gods for a miracle?

To perform a miracle himself and cure what was considered uncurable?

The last idea had squeezed his heart in an icy fist, nausea clawing up his throat.

He knew someone who could achieve things as close to a miracle as possible in this realm. He had felt such miracle in his own blood, tissue and cells; he had felt the wonders strong magic was capable of when in the hands of the kind-hearted. He was still breathing solely because of it; and he knew the person who could achieve this closely, intimately even, mind, body and soul, the depth of the goodness of her heart.

Perhaps you would be able to replicate the feat of saving Steven from certain death.

Perhaps your magic was powerful enough to save thousands lives by saving one. Powerful enough to prevent a war.

But hope and miracles were not to be trifled with. Magic was not to be trifled with. Being seen practising magic meant a definite death sentence.

But would it? If it saved the future king’s life?

Surely, he couldn’t risk it; he couldn’t risk your life. Of all the things he had seen in his life, of all the things he had ever had the fortune to hold, you were the most precious one to him. If he brought you here, he could lose you. He could lose you, by his own hand no less, and that would be the highest price to pay for peace he did not even know would settle or not in the end.

No.

That was the one price he couldn’t pay. He’d much rather pay with his own life – but not yours. Gods, never yours.

But if you only could… knew a potion, could do anything at all…

As he marched with his comrades to arrest the innocent – for it could not be the work of all Asgardians at once – his jaw was tense, the dilemma occupying all his thoughts, feeling like it might tear him in half.

Until it hadn’t.

If he did nothing, the war was be inevitable. If he did nothing, he would lose you anyway.

A raging man was a dangerous man and King Stark would burn the world in the wake of his anger and grief, heedless of whoever would burn with it.

Steven stopped dead in his tracks, Sir Barnes nearly colliding with him as a result.

“Steve, what the-“

“I must go,” Steven said in a hushed voice, swiftly changing direction; or attempting to. Sir Barnes’ hand was quick to grab onto his elbow, stopping him, heedless of other knights continuing their path.

“Steve, what in heavens do you mean by that?”

“I must fetch someone. I believe she could help.”

Sir Barnes bewilderment would perhaps be almost comical had it not been for the dread pooling cold in Steven’s gut.

“…she? What—the woman you have been sneaking off to see?” Sir Barnes enquired, causing a startled and utterly confused expression to appear on Steven’s face, a small alarmed sound pushing past the man’s lips despite his effort to remain composed.

Hold on, hold on-- Bucky knew?!

The look Steven received back was unimpressed at best – of course Bucky knew. He knew Steven almost better than he knew himself.

“Save the surprise for another day. How could she possibly help? Is she a physician’s assistant? Or even an apprentice for some insane reason?”

Had Steve had the capacity, he’d glare at Bucky for the offensive tone with which he had asked the question; however, he did not have it and in the brief moment he spent pondering, he realized that Bucky was not opposed to the idea itself. It was simply the ways of Starkerbürg: to try and take a woman as a physician’s apprentice was insane indeed. King had the God-given right to appoint physicians – and King Howard would certainly never approve of a female one.

But that didn’t matter, because that was not who you were.

“She’s… she is a healer.”

“A healer?” Sir Barnes echoed pointedly, doubt colouring his words. “What does than even mean? We do not have time for this.”

Steven huffed, trying to tug his arm free from Sir Barnes’ grasp as his impatience grew along with the number of doubts whether it was ever a good idea to consider your aid; but there were no options. No time to search for them. No time to waste and no time for finesse. He needed to go and he needed Bucky to understand – and more than that.

“She saved my life, Bucky. Back when I fell from the crags into the river… when you thought I was dead-“

“You must have been lucky, fell into deep water. You had superficial injuries. This is a poison. One the best physician of the court claims to have no antidote for.”

Steven swallowed thickly, the heaviest of feelings in his stomach as he chose to reveal his greatest secret as to make a point and be released to act before it’d be too late. “Bucky, I had much more than superficial injuries. She… she helped then. She might be able to help now, but… I will need your help with protecting her should it come to it.”

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just grown a second head, glancing around nervously as guards and knights alike kept passing them, casting strange looks at them for their stillness. Sir Barnes lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper.

“Are you saying you were wounded much worse and yet she was able to tend to you? In such short time that you were missing then? And that she might be able to help here, now, with a poison that has no known cure?” Sir Barnes demanded hastily, bewildered and clearly irritated. “Are you hearing yourself, Steven? What kind of a healer would she have to be to-“

The almost sardonic voice suddenly fell silent, all blood draining from Sir Barnes’ face when the horrifying realization finally dawned to him. His hand fell limp, finally releasing Steven’s arm.

“Steve, this is not a subject for joking.”

Steven swallowed heavily, heart thundering in his chest, blood pounding in his temples. He shouldn’t have told – but he had to. He had to, right? Bucky needed to understand-

He sighed quietly, whole body strung tight in expectation of his friend exploding in rage – rage he had no time for.

“I am not joking. And you are right, we are losing precious time, I should-”

The sudden grip on Steven’s his shoulder, appearing as to stop him from leaving, was much more brutal than the hold on his elbow had been, fingers digging into flesh even over the layers of clothing.

“You— have you been… lying with a--”

Steven’s voice was quiet, but as sharp and dangerous as the sword resting in the sheath on his hip. “Choose your words carefully, Bucky. That is the woman I love and owe my life to. I would die for her, and I would not have been standing here had she not healed me.”

“That could be exactly what she wants you to think!” Sir Barnes sputtered. Steven fought the urge to roll his eyes – the absurdity of such statement was glaring.

“Oh for heavens-- I might be a fool sometimes, but I am not an idiot-”

“Debatable!” Sir Barnes whispered as madly as if he was in fact yelling. “As you’re proving it this very moment!”

Steven shook his head, the feeling in his gut growing more gnawing by the second, every frantic beat of his heart feeling like a waste of precious time.

“Bucky, you said it yourself – we do not have time for this! I must go. I will get her, but… please. Help me protect her if the King is blind to the fact she uses--- it to do good.”

Sir Barnes simply stared back, the halls empty by now as much as his gaze, however inquiring.

The grip on Sir Rogers’ arm loosened.

Silence stretched. Precious second ticked by, grains of sand in hourglass no one could turn back falling; and with each and every one, Steve’s stomach tightened further with creeping horror.

Surely his most precious, most loyal friend, having been standing by his side since childhood, would not abandon him now? Surely he would not betray him in moments that might be deciding his fate, the fate of his beloved, of the whole kingdom?

“Bucky, please. I swear-- I’m begging you. I need to-- I need to protect her. At any cost.”

“What of your sword?” Sir Barnes asked dully, appearing indifferent to Steven’s desperate pleas.

What of your knighthood? Are you willing to give up that, if you are forced to leave in the darkness of the night and never return to bring your beloved to safety? Are you willing to leave the path of the honorary knight to become a lawless fugitive?

The smile which found its way to the corners of Steve’s lips was soft; sad and torn, for it was the greatest honour to serve, to protect, to help. He had been and always would be grateful for the rare chance he had got.

But there was no greater blessing of the gods themselves than you having entered his life and taking it by the most beautiful of storms. He loved you. He loved you more than anything and anyone in this world and that was what he would not even dream of giving up.

He didn’t respond with words; and yet, the exasperation on his closest friend’s face told him he did not have to. Sir Barnes understood from Steven’s expression alone. He always had.

“Gods, Steven Grant of Rogers, of all stunts you could have pulled to get yourself hanged, you truly had to go and chose the most foolish one. My God- Steven…”

Most foolish one? Echoed in Steven’s head, the words absurd. No. The most gorgeous one, the purest one, the most blessed, he allowed himself to muse. The most honourable one too, no? Love. Where was justice, if love, the purest emotions of all, was considered a crime? Did the new religious teachings not speak of love being kind, patient, knowing no dishonour and wrongs?

That was how he loved you. Wholly and entirely, kindly, patiently, even if passionately.

It was only then when Steven snapped from his haze and finally noticed a trace of hurt on Sir Barnes’ face when it occurred to him why Bucky had taken so long to respond. He was cross with Steven; but not as much for the alleged crime, but for having kept it a secret. Keeping you a secret; the one closest to his heart, his beloved, hidden from the one person he had always trusted with anything.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. No one could know. She’s-- she is too precious. I had to protect her,” he explained softly, urgently. “And I still do. I will, with your help or without it. But… please.”

Sir Barnes continued to regard him, stunned into silence still, expression unreadable.

Then, he shook his head; what might seem as disagreement however, Steve recognized as resignation. He had known Bucky for too long to not be able to decipher which shake of a head was a no and which was an expression of indignation and regret at his own choice of a best friend.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

And with those words, Steve took his hasty leave, his minute relief drowned in the sea of worry when he sneaked into the stables to rush through the gates of the castle, claiming to be running a King’s errand.

Seeking his closeness the pretty white doe having sipped at love all despite her oath, she begged the forest spirits to let her go to follow her heart and its eternal song.

Light breeze caressing your hair like the tender fingers of your lover, brushing away a lose strand from your face. Gentle September sunrays of a late afternoon warming your cheeks, long leaves of grass tickling your ankles and your hands as you gathered brownwort, thyme and lady’s mantle, the smell almost too much despite its pleasant notes. Your hand instinctively laying over your belly as the reminder of why you were gathering these particular herbs blossomed in your mind anew, a smile settling on your face. It was not just the time of year blessing people with abundance of these flowers, a nature’s reminder the time was coming to bath in the blessed lake on the Autumn equinox; it was the sweet secret humming under your heart too, growing stronger and more beautiful by day – and slightly bittersweet for for now, it was only yours to keep, your beloved knight none the wiser.

Steven.

The very reason, you suspected, for the heavy feeling in your heart; the reason why none of the kind offerings of mother nature seemed to sooth a jittery feeling you had woken with up from your restless sleep. Unease had been crawling over your skin; a solemnity’s shadows, despite the beautiful weather and the joyful morning realisation that a barely noticeable bump was now showing on your body, a testament to the blessings of love.

The sky was beginning to colour with sunset with no clouds in sight; and yet, you could feel a storm coming, one you did not feel would be of the refreshing purifying kind. The air did not smell of rain; if you breathed in deeply, it reeked of the very death the wind seemed to whisper about in the tallest of birch trees. A warning; a witch’s intuition tuned to the finest hints of the gods of nature and forest spirits. You had tried to sooth yourself, coaxing yourself into peace by wondering if it perhaps was but a new future mother’s anxiety.

Yet, an instinct as old as time whispered to you to know better.

Which was why the wild stomping of hooves nearing your cabin should have not taken you by surprise. But it did.

You rose from your crouch so fast your head span, gathered flowers falling from your hands at the brief faint sensation; you steadied yourself just as Steven’s horse came into view, slowing into a walk as not to startle you or crush all the blossoms on the meadow.

The silent thank you to the gods for seeing your love alive and well left your lips without prompting, followed by your spine tingling with a shudder of power at its base.

Almost as if the gods blessed you for your genuine gratitude and gifted you with strength. Strength you shall no doubt need, for Steven might be living and breathing, dismounting his mare in a thousand-times practised manner, breathtaking as ever, but the distress on his face and the tension of his wide shoulders told you those shoulders carried the weight of the world at the moment.

Feet waking with motion, you met him halfway as he rushed to you, his arms quick to embrace you lovingly but so tight all air left your ribcage for long moments. Steven’s heart thundered against your ear as you hid your face against his chest. Fresh air had washed his clothes of most smells, but sweat and wine and rich spices still enveloped your senses, a tell-tale signs of the feast which he had told you about being interrupted by something vicious.

Yet, you took precious moments of simply breathing your lover in, basking in the comfort his arms offered no matter the circumstance.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, a steadying breath which made his heart race faster, as if attempting to outrun the very storm you had felt arriving.

You ran your hands down his broad back, feeling your own heart leaping into your throat as the silence between you, often so sweet and comforting, stretched ominously.

“Steven… love,” you whispered, attempting to shift in his embrace, only achieving his hold growing firmer, his muscles almost shaking with effort not to let go.

Oh Steven… What a terrible feat had been laid upon him?

“What has happened?”

Finally releasing your body, his hands were quick to cradle your face instead, achingly gentle, even as his eyes roamed your face wordlessly, brimming with so much emotion it stirred your unease further.

“Rytier moj?”

Steven’s face softened minutely, thumbs stroking your cheekbones as tenderly as butterfly wings despite the power – or the lack of it – in his grip.

“My love…”

Lips curling in a tiny smile, you mirrored Steven’s affection, reaching to settle your palm against his cheek, fingers of your other hand carding through his hair; your heart fluttered when he leaned into your touch, a wavering breath escaping his lips before they pressed against your palm to sooth the scratch of his beard against your skin.

Despite the dulcet image he made, eyes fluttering close for a blissful moment of nothing but love shared, you felt his body pulse with anxious urgency seemingly seeping into yours through your fingertips.

“I did not sleep well…” you confessed, his already pursed lips turning down. “I had a heavy feeling in me. Now I know the gods had not warned me simply for their own whims. What’s happened?”

Steven opened his eyes again; with a single caress of the breeze, he straightened, his aura of a knight – a fierce protector, a loyal friend, a humble determined servant – returning with its full force as did his worry.

“I need your help.”

A simple plea.

A simple answer.

“Always, rytier moj. Anything,” you promised.

One would expect relief to fill your lover’s features; instead, dread twisted them into a frown of dismay. Almost as if he had been hoping for your rejection.

Why?

The whisper of death among the trees grew louder, haunting, sending such a shudder through your body not even your lover’s warmth could hope to protect you from it, another urgent question scratching at the back of your mind.

Death, the trees seemed to whisper.

Whose death?

“Oh bosorka moja…”

Not Steven’s. Never. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

And not your child’s. You’d claw a throat open with your bare hands had anyone tried to take them away. Take her away. You had dreamed two nights prior, dreamed of a girl with Steven’s beautiful eyes and your hair caressed by the wind, her laughter filling the air as he sat her on his shoulders and she placed the daisy crown on his head-

The image had been so full of hope, so bright, so full of promise; it battled the current scent of death fiercely, one blending into another, and it felt like you were stood in the middle.

Your choice. Your power.

Your victory; or your loss.

You gulped, your gentle hold on Steven’s face growing shaky; with fear or the weight of responsibility, you weren’t sure.

“What is it, love? You are worrying me… come in. Tell me what weights down your-“

“Prince Anthony has been poisoned,” he said at last.

The whisper of the wind seemed to turn into a screech of a gale, even as the tree leaves and grass barely rustled.

The Prince… was he the one whose death you felt impending? It must have been.

In a split second, it became so clear why Steven was so shaken.

An impending death of his brother in arms. Of someone whom he served and appreciated.

Of the future ruler; quite possibly caused by the attempts of the party of Asgard.

An act of war.

Should Prince Anthony die, there would be no stopping at one death. Devastating number of lives could be lost. Including Steven’s.

No. Not on your watch. Not as long as you walked this realm.

But could you stop it?

Stood in the middle. Your choice. Your power.

Could you prevent a war?

Your mind was set into a whirl, various herbs and remedies for different poisonings refreshed in your mind.

“Do you know which poison it was?” you asked urgently, dropping your hands; and confused as why Steven’s remained firmly on your face, his expression speaking of pain greater than before. “Steven, love. What are his troubles? I can send a potion, pass it as a remedy from a physician-”

“Burning feeling in his forehead, weakness of muscles, trembling, cold sweat… he fainted and could not be woken up, only for a brief moment. He had trouble speaking, began to shake, fainted again...” Steven listed slowly, his unease growing with every word.

And so did yours.

Determination bled out from your body drop by drop, replaced by dread, the very weakness your lover was talking about as if settling in your own muscles and bones.

“The physician believes it might have been... aconite?” he added.

You had figured as much, seemingly endless moments before Steven spoke the dreaded word.

Aconite.

The worst nightmare of all living things; the deadliest daydream of those who meant harm and would not stop until their enemy released their last breath.

Death, screeched the breeze in the crowns of the birch trees; the yew trees, the very symbol of passing, joining in.

Death. War. Death.

Your power. Your victory. Your loss.

Your voice shook more frantically than young aspen leaves in the wind.

“Steven… aconite is deadly. I have no potion or salve for this. There is no cure-”

“That is what physician Banner said.”

“But then what…”

Your voice trailed off, words stuck in your throat, air stolen from your chest. A lighting from clear skies could struck you at the very moment and you would barely take notice of such.

It all made sense now. You having lost sleep. The whispers of death. The assumed shiver of power you shall no doubt need. And at last, Steven’s almost palpable dismay when you had said you’d help. That you’d do anything.

He had hoped you’d help.

He was terrified of it all the same.

You could feel blood draining from your face, rushing past your ears; unspeakable horror and determination swept you like the non-existent gale in the tree crowns.

“Steven…”

His grip on your face grew firmer, unsteady but urgent, his forehead pressed against yours as his eyes slid shut, his whisper a frantic promise, a confession and a prayer at once.

“I know. Believe me, my love, I know, and I have never been more scared of anything in my whole life,” he said huskily, barely audible over the wild thundering of your heart, the shaky sound of your quick breaths, even as the rest of the world faded into background, all noise ceasing. Or perhaps even the sparrows forgot how to sing, struck by fear for their life.“I would have not asked this of you if I did not fear that Anthony’s death would unleash a war with Asgard and might destroy us all… and if I did not believe I could protect you.”

“Steven-“

A thumb over your lip, gently pressing to silence your protest, Steven guided you to look up to his eyes, every word falling from his lips an oath signed by his own blood.

“Bosorka moja… I shall protect you, no matter the cost. You must know I would lay my life for you. I will, should it come to it. As long as you are safe.”

Consumed by adoration and terror at once, you slipped from Steven’s hold, shaking your head.

He had not the slightest idea what he was speaking of, the reckless fool.

He had no idea.

And he had no idea whom he would be leaving should he deliver on his terrible promise.

“These words are not nearly as comforting as you believe them to be! How would we-- how would I live without you?” you lamented, feeling the fire of power and indignation burn inside of you, chasing the fear away for several beats of your heart. “And I-- I am not even sure I can heal him.”

“You healed me,” Steven offered kindly, encouraging, confusion and the softest trace of hurt at you having escaped his touch twisting his face. He had no idea. He had no idea at all. “You said I was at the brink of death myself-“

“You were,” you spat, not appreciating the reminder – not of his injuries, nor of your past recklessness, as grateful as you were for the latter, not a single regret in your mind for having risked it all to save the handsome stranger with goodness etched into his very soul, having shone so bright it had outshined your doubts and fear for your life. But this was different. So much circumstance had changed. “But I was… I had faith in your soul, saw your good heart. I believed to be safe from you should I be too weak to protect myself after I casted my spells, and for that, I was able to pour all my magic into the healing. And I-- I was much more careless with my power then… “

You made a pause, inhaling slowly, gathering courage in the face of Steven’s features twisting further with distress.

“But Steven… that was before. I-- before we-“

“What is it, bosorka moja? Before what?”

Your lower lip trembled, regret lacing the soft touch of your fingertips to his face.

This was not how you wished for him to find out. You had told him before, erased his memory to ease his conscience and to prepare for the right moment, a moment fit for such joyful tidings; but much like him, having rushed here asking for help despite the unspeakable risks, you had no other option.

You had no choice.

You had no time.

The deep-sea blue with a forest green shade of his irises brimmed with emotion, tenderness and silent question.

With a lump in your throat, you dropped your hands again, curling them around your middle as if to protect the secret and save it for a reverent moment your love and lover – and your child – would have deserved.

Steven regarded your stance with dread visibly climbing up his throat. You could see it in his eyes, the sudden uncertainty, the questions written in his eyes growing frantic and painful.

Why had you stepped back from him? Why had you evaded his touch? Why did you seem taken by sorrow? What secret had you been keeping from him? For you must have had some. You must have not told him something crucial – and in a dark time like this, it shall come to light.

You appeared so shaken; you appeared scared. Of something he had failed to protect you from?

Or of his reaction to the revelation?

You chose your words carefully, speaking them slowly, even though you could feel him hanging onto every syllable.

“It is not only me anymore who needs to be protected.”

Steven did not understand; that much was clear from his expression, from the step he took closer to you only for you to take a step back, etching his hurt deeper into his face.

“I… I do not understand, my love. Do you have—do you know of someone who could help you? Do they need protection too?”

The they tasted of poison much bitterer than aconite; disbelief and profound pain.

You could almost hear it, the absurd questions he seemed to be asking himself. Was there… was there someone else? Someone else who had earned your love more fiercely than he had? More deserving?

The way your love remained hidden, the distance he still had to keep, laid heavy in his mind, always, now feeding his doubt; his fear that someone else now occupied the space he had so selfishly taken up in your heart.

But had only been here mere days ago, yes? Surely you could have not--- you would have not… or had you? No. That wasn’t possible. You were the kindest most loving person he had ever met, loyal to a fault – and he was blessed to be yours, to be loved, unconditionally, more than he deserved for keeping you his little secret.

You could not read thoughts; but Steven’s always seemed to be laid bare in front of you to card through. Betrayal and resignation all at once, jaw tight to mask his hurt, to hide the very doubt you read so clearly. Doubt, but not of you; of him. He had always carried it with him, the guilt of not providing for you as he imagined he should for his beloved.

Doubt, crystal clear in his gaze. It was possible, was it not? The most wonderful woman he had ever met, finally fed up, the goblet of your patience finally having overflowed, deciding to find a man worthy of you, able to take care of you, truly, one you were willing to-

You could not bear his mind screaming anymore, even as you had not heard a single word, a single thought, all of it but achy questions expressed by his gaze alone.

“No, Steven, I do not--- I merely cannot only think of myself now,” you said softly, searching for words to reveal the secret at last, not, not wanting to and craving it all the same. “I… I need to protect us.”

His shoulders sagged, doubt and heartache erased at once, tenderness at your worry for him melting into his smile.

“Do not fret, bosorka moja. I can hold my own.”

The faint smile in the corner of your mouth hurt, tears burning in your eyes.

“I know, rytier moj… and yes, I meant us, but I--- I also meant us.”

The arm you had curled around your middle shifted. Your palm spread pointedly over your belly as you met his gaze with hesitance and silent hope; for as much as you dreaded revealing the source of your worst fear, the tidings were still joyful. And you hoped with the entirety of your heart that Steven would accept them as such, much like the first time.

But first, he had to comprehend them.

Several rushed beats of your heart it took him; but then he finally did.

Suddenly, it was his turn to stand still and rigid as if a lightning from the perfectly clear skies struck him. And it might have as well.

His voice was barely louder than a breath, hoarse, laced with careful hope despite the glaring truth.

“You—we- are we-?”

A crystal-clear memory of those being the very words he had spoken the first time entered your mind, a single tear spilling over; the awe and reverence on his face mirrored his expression all the same as you confirmed.

“Yes.”

“You are with a child? My child?”

It would have been amusing, the questions, if you hadn’t been on a brink of hysteria and hadn’t there been a metaphorical sword hanging above your heads while you indulged in revealing the sweetest secret there was between lovers.

“Yes.”

Countless grains of sand in hourglass fell, Steven simply observing you, his gaze feasting on the entirety of you with newfound emotion that touched your very soul and made it shiver with delight. He observed you with such adoration and devotion you could only imagine he would show to a deity descending to walk the Earth.

And then he was surging forward, falling on his knees in front you, one hand on your hip, the other wrapping around your lower back to keep you close as he laid his forehead on your belly, shaky, slow and careful; nothing short of reverent. Despite the circumstance, all the tears prickling in your eyes found their release – every inch of your body sang, feeling Steven’s love for both you and the life he had a generous hand in creating.

“Oh bosorka moja… láska moja,” he muttered into the fabric before he looked up, hesitant fingers slipping under, to feel the very bump you had only noticed today. His lips parted in mute awe, eyes turning glassy with sheer delight and wonder at the miracle.

You allowed yourself another moment of basking in his love; feeling the delight spreading through every vein, through every bone and nerve, all the way to your very core and source of power. Your hands found gentle purchase of Steven’s hair as his lips pressed to your belly.

But then, the inaudible crackle in the air brought you both from your reverie, the breeze screeching of death instead of new life returning.

There was no choice; dread filled your being along with a haunting whisper of opportunity from a voice speaking in tongues you barely understood and yet deciphered as guidance.

You must go. You must try. Despite the risks.

Stood in the middle. Your power. Your victory; your loss.

Your only hope and your possible doom.

“I shall try my best to help, even as I do not know if I will be able to. But Steven…” you addressed him softly, revealing one more piece, one more source of joy, “our little girl must remain safe at any cost.”

The hands sprawled around your middle twitched, a single tear escaping him as his eyes shone.

“Our--- a girl? How-“

“It is but a feeling,” you admitted, earning a brilliant smile which lasted too shortly.

You smiled tightly in return, a few more tears rolling down your cheeks as Steven’s hand softly caressed your barely-there bump again, butterflies seemingly to erupting in your stomach, your heart humming.

He rose to his feet with something in his eyes turning steely, his gentle voice once against taking on a heaviness of an oath.

“I will protect you both, even if it should be the last thing I will ever do.”

One wavering breath was all the luxury you granted yourself before springing into action, not allowing yourself to lament at the potential of death weaved into Steven’s promise. You could not afford any more distraction. The hourglass was unrelenting, rushing you.

“I know. We shall get going.”

You could feel his eyes on you, a mute confusion as you ruminated through the cabinets, the fire lit, a small pot placed on it, two handfuls of water, milk thistle, ginseng roots, and sprinkle of uncaria leaves added to the mix.

“You can sit down, love, I shall only complete the potion swiftly and we will be on our way,” you assured him, reaching for a pinch of turmeric to add.

Steven did not, in fact, sit down – if anything, you could feel him grow taller behind you, as if his growing bewilderment added an inch or two to his already impressive height. His stare was firmly set on you, a little burning and slightly insulting since you could almost hear his silent questioning of your sanity.

A potion? But you had said-

You looked over your shoulder briefly, your lover’s body nearer than expected, causing you to need to crane you neck a bit.

“No, there is no potion to neutralise the poison – but this remedy strengthens a body, aids it to fight off an infection and weakness,” you explained, expecting Steven’s face clearing, but not waiting for it do so, busying yourself with reading the mental list of ingredients, recalling every indispensable element. Milk thistle, ginseng, uncaria leaves, turmeric… ah. Yes. Where herbs were concerned, rare or common, that would be all. Only one last ingredient.

A gentle hand on your elbow stopped you as you were turning to the stack of knives, halting your movements tenderly but firmly. Blinking, you lifted your gaze to Steven’s face again, disconcerted by his unreadable expression.

“Is it… safe?”

Had it not been for the large distress he was in, the feeling oozing of him and adding to your own shakiness, had it not been for the tenderness of his touch, you’d feign a slap to chase his hand away at the almost silly question – and at the sudden doubt in your knowledge and power and your reign over it.

“Steven, love, my apologies for the bluntness, but Prince Anthony is on his deathbed, so I cannot very well hurt him further and I shall have you known that this very potion you have drunk yourself-”

“For you,” he clarified, two soft syllables in contrast to your slightly exasperated words, your voice falling silent as sweet worry reflected in his sky-blue irises. Despite the circumstance, your heart seared at the fussing, no matter how groundless and ironic. “I am asking whether it is safe for you and our… our child to prepare that. I know it may seem irrational given why I am here, but-“

It was, you had to admit. And yet. You spent a precious moment, precious grains of sand falling in the ominous hourglass above your heads, placing your palm over his hand, reassuring.

“It is perfectly safe, rytier moj… certainly no more dangerous than rushing to the castle, the very heart of the Kingdom, and attempt to save the prince using the most outlawed practice in these lands,” you added with an unsteady cheekiness, earning an exasperated glare; and a full body shudder he couldn’t hope to contain.

The same tremble ran through your body; and yet, the whisper for caution was overshadowed by a tingle of energy unknown, a wordless encouragement. Almost a haunting promise from the Fate itself that bravery shall be rewarded.

But if that were true, where would the ever-present whispers of death and upcoming end fit in the mosaic then?

Shaking your head as well as the overwhelmingly bewildering sensations off, you charmed a soft smile for your lover and love – for the father of your child, already caring so deeply for the life to be born out of your love – and let your hand fall, turning back to your work as stream began to fill the cabin.

One last ingredient; a life essence to help maintain life.

You cradled the handle of the blade carefully in your hand, turning your other palm against the tip; the knife was out of your hand before you could comprehend how, pressed flat to Steven’s thigh, shielded from your touch.

“I’m sorry. I--- is that necessary?” Steven asked with a painful edge to his voice, his continued concern causing your heart to tremble.

“Yes… it is but a drop of blood, my love, I promise. A speckle of life essence to maintain life.”

His frown deepened as you reached for the knife again, fingers brushing his soothingly as you grasped at the handle. So many emotions played over his features; hesitance, concern, guilt. He must have realised you had used your blood before to cure him before you had even learned his name, another sacrifice having been made aside from having left yourself completely vulnerable to him when you had drained your magic and body alike to bring him from the death’s doorstep where you had found him at.

Then, an almost shy question, as if he felt too bold to even suggest such heretic thought.

“Life essence… would mine suffice, then?”

Where his implication was shy – that his mere mortal, human blood could match yours, the blood of a born witch – his determination was not.

He met your eye, a brilliant satisfied sparkle lighting up his irises when he read the truth in your hesitant gaze.

“Yes… it would. But-“

Your knight offered his left palm outstretched, no further questions. The bottomless trust in his gesture and in his eyes caused a lump to grow in your throat; the mere idea of cutting him, even if it was to only be but a scratch, had ache sting deep within your ribcage.

“Are you cert-“

“Would you rather I lead the cut myself, love?” he asked, his voice tender upon your hesitance, understanding the action would cause you pain – as if you were to hurt yourself instead.

And you might as well.

Your hands were made to heal his wounds, not cause them; your hands were made to erase his aches, not bring them; your hands were made to love, not hurt.

Your read in his gentle gaze as he nearly read in yours: I despise the thought of hurting you, rytier moj; It is but alright, bosorka moja.

You shook your head.

“I-- no. I may do it. I apologize, we do not have time for-“

A hand grasping your jaw, soft lips silencing your apologies; your eyes fluttered close despite seeing right through the trick. You felt the pressure of his hand against the blade, the silent sound of protest earning you a deeper kiss, a softer caress of his lips against yours, tasting sweeter than summer breeze, so achingly tender.

“There you go, bosorka moja…”

With his retreat, Steven ran his thumb over your cheek, smiling; then, he moved his injured hand into yours, leading you above the pot.

Slightly dazed and exasperated still, you sighed and carefully squeezed his wound to indeed only spare a drop of his precious blood.

As you pressed your lips to his fingertips in a thank you, you let your healing power flow through your touch, closing the cut your body should have worn.

“This had better be the only blood spilled today,” you whispered; and prayed too. You met your Steven’s stormy gaze as the contents of the pot sizzled, sweet coppery aroma rising in the air.

“It will, bosorka moja. It will.”

He sealed the deal with a kiss, sweet and desperate and bruising.

And falling on deaf ears, whisper in the crowns of the birch trees, his and your words echoed the very same song.

Blood had better be spilled…

Today, today, today…It will, it will, it will…

Next part

Other headcanon and playlist

S.R. masterlist - contains other knight!Steve fics, independent of this universe

Complete masterlist

Endearments used: Rytier moj (My knight) Bosorka moja (Witch mine) Láska moja (Love mine)

I hope you liked this - let me know your thoughts!

May your November be sweet and cosy ✨

[fexicoded]

So you're telling me we have to wait another 9 months until we get the SLIGHTEST bit of crumbs with fexi cause filming isn't gonna be till the end of this year????

[itsmissjessme]

Actually I lied, where tf is the reddit spoilers at. I wanna see some thing.

[xnayesa]

So, i watched this video on YT. And I didn't have to think twice.

He love both of them but he definitely love SAM more.

For me, Carly is Freddie's ideal girl. That's why he fell for her the moment he saw her (talking about their conversation about love at first sight) He has a crush on her, yes, who wouldn't? Maybe that's why he clung to that feeling all those years because it wasn't easy to let go of your ideal girl. Or even the idea of having your ideal girl.

Meanwhile Sam, she's the opposite of Carly but Freddie still fell for her. Even after all those times that they hated each other, Sam constantly picking on him, beating him up, teasing him, he still fell for her, accepted all her flaws and chose to be with her. Why? Because he really loves Sam. I mean, why would you be with someone who's mean to you if you don't really love them? Are you fcking stupid? It wasn't hard for Freddie to reject Sam if he didn't really like her knowing that Carly doesn't even have a boyfriend that time too. But the moment Sam kissed him, it may or may have been the reason for him to know that he has a thing for her.

And also the "I love you" scene in the elevator really got me. That's the first time Freddie said those words that you can really feel the emotions behind. Sure, he said a lot of times that he loves Carly but not like the way he told Sam that he loves her.

Sorry but what Freddie felt for Carly was a mere puppy love for me. He may loved her, but not the way he loved Sam.

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

ok first of all, The Ninth Hour musical (on yt & spotify) is INCREDIBLE. It's a retelling of Beowulf (ofc), however the actress playing Beowulf and the actress playing Grendel's Mother sound more or less exactly alike, which gives the whole thing an additional layer of OW OOF OUCH MY EMOTIONS.

Grendel himself is also phenomenal. If I could recommend you one song to get you into this musical, it would be this one:

also highly recommend "Grendel's Mother" by The Mountain Goats. lyrics can get a bit cheesy but it still hits like a punch in the guts

okay, next up..... shit, where do I even START.

Sam & Dean are the best portrayal of Grendel & his Mother that I've EVER seen- and I'm saying this as a folklorist/beowulf scholar first, and spn fan second. The more you get into actually studying these creatures/characters, the more fascinating spn becomes because

1) it tells a story that desperately needed to be told, and does it amazingly well

2) IT DOES IT UNINTENTIONALLY. Nobody on spn's writing team sat down and said "hey. this is a show about Grendel". It just HAPPENED and its UNIRONICALLY WONDERFUL.

3) this is more of a thing that matters re: folkloric & historical context, but I cannot stress enough that Sam & Dean canonically de-christianized themselves. that is. fcking fascinating. like I don't even have words for how cool that is. what a choice for these characters. it's been 1500 years and Grendel & Mother finally had enough, packed up and left back to whatever pagan belief system they came from.

ok anyway. tangent here, but re: what you said about liking/being DEEPLY fucked up by the idea of their souls never being allowed to settle or find peace... please look into The Wild Hunt. Overly Sarcastic Productions on youtube has a very good video on it that covers most of the points that you would be interested in. the idea of a ghostly hunter damned to ride eternally across the sky in early/midwinter kinda Hits Different the past two years yknow?

(and yes there are connections between the Wild Hunt and Grendel's Mom. not direct connections, but they're definitely present. see last post's comment abt Valkyrie!Dean)

last thing for this particular longpost: the names "Sam" and "Dean" are EXTREMELY.

EXTREMELY *SOMETHING*.

IN OLD ENGLISH.

"Sam" is a common prefix in Old English (the language Beowulf was written/originally told in) that is used with many words. However, depending on pronunciation/accent it has two different meanings:

"half, partial, lacking, incomplete"

or

"together, concordant, combined, same"

...ow. ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow ow. that's. ouch

"Dean" doesn't have a direct equivalent, but "Daene" "Daen" "Dane", "Dene", etc all have translation variants (Old English translation is NOT an exact science. I'm taking a class in it next semester, pray for me lmao) that mean the same thing

"Danes" or "People of Denmark"

why is this relevant? Because the first 2/3 of Beowulf is set in Denmark. Grendel & Mother are FROM DENMARK. and the people they prey upon, who Beowulf arrives to defend

ARE THE DANES.

also, this specific bit of ironic naming has actually been used before! one of the most well-lauded modern retellings of Beowulf, Maria Dahvana Headley's "The Mere Wife", is told from Grendel's Mother's pov, and set in a modern, rural/western American (though disappointingly* nonmagical, focusing on social commentary in an entirely "real-world" way) setting. This is, afaik, the first major work of Beowulf literature that gives Mother a name....

Dana. her name is Dana. as an ironic jab at her original iteration's rivalry with the Danes

or "Daene" in the Old English. or "Dane" or "Daen" or "Dene"

...I both love and hate this language. what kind of fucking names are "Sam and Dean". its almost like God hates them or something-

oh yeah right. That Part.

this is lines 102-114 of Seamus Heaney's translation of Beowulf, and the audience's introduction to whatever the fresh frick Grendel & Mother have going on.

and

to quote almost directly from a Supernatural post I saw on tumblr like three weeks ago, from someone with (afaik) NO idea what Grendel is:

WHAT WAS THEIR REWARD EXACTLY??? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

hhhhhhhhh

tldr

*screams in agony*

Fun fact of the day, anytime someone compares Dean Winchester to Mother Mary, I take -20 psychic damage

It ruins me horrendously, keep doing it

[marmosa]

it takes two.

Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: a little 18+ humor at a point, but it’s pretty low-key. 

A/N: this had some anti-olives discourse and i’m not sorry about it olives r fcking nasty. also [y/n]’s smell is daisy love by marc jacobs for reference, it’s a perfume i really like but i was like there is no way anyone knows what a fucking cloudberry is, so next time you’re at sephora or sumthin go get a whiff of it, it’s lovely. anywho hope you guys like it, i had tons of fun writing the banter in this one, hope it turned out as nice as i thought :) p.s i didn’t proof read this so sorry in advance <3

***

[y/n] hated potions. She hated it more than anything else on this planet and that was saying something considering olives were literally out there existing. Potions shouldn’t have been such a hard class for her, not when she had no problem in her other classes, and certainly not when all it included was following a damned recipe.

Which explained why she wanted to drive a dagger through her skull when Professor Snape announced they’d be spending the next few days preparing to brew amortentia. Not only was the romantic part of it so nerve wracking it made the entire class nauseous, but the prospect of messing it up and not smelling anything at all was even worse (for those who cared, at least).

“You’re dismissed. Make sure to study up on the potion before hand or you’ll sorely regret it,” Snape called out to the class in that tone of his voice that sounded like rancid milk. Was it mentioned that [y/n] also hated Snape? Yeah that too.

As [y/n] packed up her things, she felt a tap on her shoulder, “Speak of the devil.”

“I’m not the devil, I know you lot think ginger’s are evil, but I can assure you I am no devil,” Fred shook his head displeasingly, crossing his arms and leaning back against her desk, “Also, what a way to great someone, sheesh woman, you’d think you’d be more excited to see me.”

“Okay, firstly, there was no need for that whole spiel,” [y/n] held her hands up defensively, “Secondly, I only said that because I was just thinking about you before you arrived.”

Fred rolled his eyes at her back-tracking, but smiled smugly none-the-less, “Aww you were thinking of me? Nothing too naughty I hope,” he winked.

[y/n] flipped her bag shut and looked up at him with a deadpan expression, reaching up and punching his shoulder, “you wish, Weasley. The only naughty thing I’d be caught doing with you is tying you up to turn you in to the police.”

“Tying me up? Didn’t take you as the type for that sort of thing,” Fred grinned, biting back another remark as he watched her groan in annoyance but refuse to make eye contact with him, “but honestly, what were you thinking about?”

“Well,” [y/n] began, pulling at his sleeve to get him to follow her out of class, “You know we have this amortentia potion coming up and I’m doing shit in this class, but I was thinking you could help me study since you have a track record of being good in this class?”

“Hmm,” Fred pondered the offer, shrugging, “what’s in it for me?”

“You get to spend time with me?” [y/n] smiled sweetly, batting her eyelashes dramatically to emphasize the effect.

“That’s a shit deal,” Fred chuckled, raising his brows with a small grin at [y/n]’s frown.

“Yeah, it is,” [y/n] sighed, an idea popping into her head, “but if I brewed it successfully you’d get to find out who I fancy, I know you’ve been poking around there because you’re an nosy git who won’t leave me alone about it.”

Fred scoffed in mock offense, tilting his head to the side, “Rude, but not false. Y’know, that does spice up the offer, but what’s stopping me from just finding out by having you smell someone else’s brew? And who’s to say I’m gonna know who smells like that anyway?”

“You’re so difficult,” [y/n] groaned, sinking her shoulders, “you know what, just forget it. I’ll go bother George or something, y’know the better twin.”

Fred’s smile fell as he screwed his features together, ”Excuse me? You’ve got some nerve you little-,”

“I don’t-woah!” [y/n] yelped as Fred tackled her to the side of the empty hall, trapping her against the wall, his hand planted to the side of her head and his other arm situated above her head.

“Take it back,” Fred demanded, giving her a once over, amused at the way she silently reeled over the position she’d just been put into.

“And why should I?” [y/n] snapped back, staring right back at him as soon as she’d gotten her bearings.

“Take it back,” Fred repeated simply, his voice low as he tried to coax his desired response out of her.

“Again, why should I?” [y/n] hummed, relaxing against the wall and looking at him with a sly smile.

Fred rolled his eyes and straightened himself back up, pushing his hair out of his face with one hand, “you’re no fun, you know exactly why.”

“No I don’t,” [y/n] continued, chimed in amusement, “do you think George isn’t as good as you?”

“Now don’t you go putting words in my mouth,” Fred snipped, “you know just as well as I do that’s not true.”

“I don’t know, maybe it is, maybe it isn’t,” [y/n] shrugged, biting back a laugh at Fred’s less than amused expression, “I’ll cut you a deal. You help me with potions and I don’t tell George your dirty little secret.”

“That’s not-,” Fred groaned, his argumentative spirit draining out of his body as his will to spend time with her won out, “Fine. But if you ever tell a lie like that to George, I’ll feel no remorse telling everyone and their mother that you like being tied up for fun.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” [y/n] hissed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“What? It’s not like it’s true,” Fred teased, his smirk falling when she remained silent, “No way, [y/n] that’s got to be a lie.”

“So what if it isn’t? You’ll never know,” [y/n] giggled, biting back a smile.

“Now wait a minute-,” Fred began, startled at this random piece of questionable information, but was cut off as they arrived at [y/n]’s class.

“It was lovely chatting with you, but I will have to see you later,” [y/n] hummed playfully, giving him a quick hug before darting into her classroom leaving a shocked Fred to himself, “bye Freddie!”

***

“Do you think Fred likes me?” [y/n] rolled onto her stomach and looked over at her friend expectantly, bumping her ankles together to distract her from the rapid beating of her heart.

Nadya tossed her books to the side and slid her legs off the side of her bed, leaning forward to try and be level with [y/n], “Are you really asking me that right now?”

“What!” [y/n] scoffed, pouting, “it’s an honest question!”

“Of all things holy,” Nadya groaned, burying her face in her hands, “Of course he likes you? You really asked him to be your homework helper and he said yes. Who in their right mind willingly studies for potions?”

[y/n] chewed on the inside of her cheek, nodding along, “You are absolutely correct. But like, if he doesn’t, isn’t it going to backfire on me when he realizes I smell him in the amortentia potion?”

“Bold of you to assume that any man knows what he smells like,” Nadya chuckled, “Remember in grade school when the boys would wear that atrocious body spray? It was ghastly.”

“Again, you’re absolutely correct. But Fred has like a distinct smell, it’s like camp fires, caramel, and fire-whiskey,” [y/n] sighed, letting herself bask in the though of how lovely he was, “it’s wonderful.”

“Kinda creepy that you know how specific it is,” Nadya pursed her lips and titled her head to the side to avoid [y/n]’s flat glare.

“Oh yeah because yesterday you totally weren’t telling me about Sam’s ‘absolutely magical eyes’, your words not mine,” [y/n] hummed, a smug smile drawing itself across her lips.

“You’re a twat,” Nadya snapped back, rolling her eyes, “back to you, aren’t you suppose to meet him in the library in like 5 minutes?”

[y/n] glanced over at the clock on her nightstand and nearly feel onto the floor running to get her stuff, “Shit! Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”

“Because you were too busy talking about what Fred smelled like,” Nadya deadpanned, taking her turn to smile smugly.

“I would wipe that stupid look off your face if I wasn’t running late,” [y/n] narrowed her eyes teasingly, grabbing her textbooks, “see you at dinner?”

“See you at dinner,” Nadya affirmed, waving goodbye.

***

“Took you long enough,” Fred lulled, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m surprised you were here on time, especially for something as boring as homework,” [y/n] replied, setting all her stuff down and sliding into the seat across from him.

Fred looked at her dumbly, wanting to snap back but not knowing how to without admitting he was just excited to see her, “Shut up. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you were the one who asked for my help?”

[y/n] leaned her cheek onto her balled up fist and exhaled deeply, “Touché. You’re a handful Weasley.”

“You love it though,” He hummed, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That I do,” [y/n] chuckled, kicking his ankles playfully under the table.

“Well, if you need my help it’s counter productive to do it across from me isn’t it? You don’t want to be swinging a book around over and over again,” Fred mentioned while flipping through his own textbook to find the lesson.

“That’s a good point,” [y/n] shrugged, pushing all her stuff to the other side of the table and switching her seat, glancing over at his book to note the page number, “Y’know, I actually really appreciate you helping me out.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, volunteer work is important after all,” Fred teased, quickly back-tracking when she stared back at him blankly, “Kidding! You know I’ll always make time for you,” he mumbled, reaching over and squeezing her shoulder reassuringly.

[y/n] rolled her eyes and pretended to fish around her bag so he wouldn’t notice the embarrassed look on her face, “Thanks. Same for you.”

Fred chuckled softly, leaning his cheek onto his fist to watch her silently, admiring the way she looked out of uniform in her favorite sweater and pair of jeans. She practically glowed in the low light of the library, her hands constantly pushing a fly away of hair out of her face, her face screwing up in an adorable sort of annoyance. He was smitten, no doubt about it, and honestly- he was okay with that.

“What’re you looking at?” [y/n] muttered, catching his unwavering stare.

“Nothing, you’ve just got an eyelash on your face,” Fred played it off nonchalantly, reaching forward and brushing off the imaginary eyelash.

[y/n] tried her absolute best not to combust right then and there, thanking him quietly before redirecting his attention to the work, “So, what do you say we start here? The measurements are rather odd, wouldn’t you say?”

Fred bit back a smile and nodded, amused at the loss of her fiery attitude, his heart thumping loudly against his chest.

“Yeah, they are.”

***

“Fuck!”

Nadya glanced up from the journal sitting in her lap, the pair of eyes she was sketching seemingly following along with her as she located [y/n] standing in front of the mirror, looking ready to fall apart.

“What’s all this about then?” Nadya inquired, cocking her head to the side.

“We’re making the potions today and it didn’t seem like a big deal two days ago but the anxiety has finally caught up to me and I feel truly sick,” [y/n] shuddered, jumping up and down in place to try and shake out her prickling nerves.

“I know you’re worried, but what are the chances of anyone knowing what that smell is? By the way you described it, it’s so painfully specific that only someone who’s known him for ages would know,” Nadya reassured her panicking friend, smiling softly.

“I know, but what if-,”

“If you keep talking yourself into believing it you’re gonna be miserable. Just breath, go do your best, and have fun. Nothing will go wrong,” Nadya explained calmly, knowing just how much of a busy-brain [y/n] could get.

“Ah, you’re right, I’m only gonna make myself feel worse. I’ll stop, thanks Nadya,” [y/n] padded over and gave her a quick hug, “see you at lunch?”

“See you at lunch,” Nadya nodded, waving her goodbye.

***

“You’ve all finished brewing your amortentia I presume,” Snape spoke in that nasally tone of his, glowering at the class.

The class replied with a cacophony of “yes’s”, the anxiety of each person literally rolling off the walls in waves. People who had a fancy in that class practically had a neon sign above their heads that said so, while those who didn’t sat back and relaxed in peace as they pondered their grade.

[y/n] glanced over at Fred who caught her gaze, passing her an enthusiastic thumbs up, which she returned happily despite the knots forming in her stomach.

“Well then, if you’re done, get into your groups and test it out. Remember if you smell nothing that it doesn’t mean you failed the potion, you must reference the check list of properties before coming to a conclusion,” Snape explained, folding his hands behind his back, “is that clear?”

The class responded with “yes’s” once more and in an instant the room was bustling as the groups got to smelling their potions to test out the initial effects. [y/n]’s group agreed that they’d go clock-wise, leaving her last to test out the potion.

“It smells like honey, baked goods, and lavender,” Charlie spoke up, his cheeks tinging red as he probably registered quite who the scent was probably related to.  

“That’s a lovely combination,” Dina nodded, leaning forward and taking a whiff of their own brew, “truly I can’t smell much but there is a faint note of citrus,” they shrugged.

[y/n] and Timothy exchanged knowing glances, a fancy probably developing in Dina’s life that they hadn’t quite registered yet.

“My turn,” Timothy exhaled, nodding stiffly as if to reassure himself as he smelled the potion. His eyes nearly popped out his head as he took a step back fanning his face slightly, “that has got to be the strongest smell of herbs I’ve ever smelled- he’s probably been spending extra time in the Green Room, that twat.”

The group broke into laughter as he gracefully excused himself to go stand outside to let the smell filter out of his nose. As soon as he’d left, the group look at [y/n] expectantly, all excited to hear what she smelled.

[y/n] swallowed thickly and leaned over her pot, her nerves finally spiking as she took a whiff of the brew. Her heart nearly stopped in her chest when she finally registered the smell, her face growing hot, as an embarrassed expression pulled itself onto her features- of course it was him.

“So, what did you smell?” Dina chirped enthusiastically, leaning against the table.

“Yeah [y/n], what did you smell?”

[y/n] felt her heart drop to her feet, her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets and into the pot in front of her. Of course he was going to ask.

“You did promise you’d tell me,” Fred smirked, leaning against the table, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“That I did,” [y/n] chuckled awkwardly.

“I’ll cut you a deal this time. You tell me what you smelled and I’ll tell you what I did,” Fred offered, raising his brows to emphasize his tantalizing offer.

“Deal,” [y/n] nodded, rolling her shoulder a few times, “I smelled a camp fire, caramel, and fire whiskey.”

Charlie and Dina exchanged wide eyed glances, quietly agreeing that the smell was certainly unique and equally lovely before excusing themselves to go get a final grade from Snape.

“What a unique smell,” Fred hummed, eyeing her groupmates oddly “Guess I have to hold up my end of the bargain then. I couldn’t really tell you the specifics, but definitely berries, daisies, and driftwood.”

“That’s even more unique than mine, whoever you smelled sure does have a refined palette,” [y/n] giggled, calming down as she realized Fred had no clue who she was talking about with her own smell.

“She sure does. I think it’s her perfume or something, she wears it everyday so I recognized it almost immediately,” Fred chuckled, shrugging, “But fire whiskey, I truly wonder who that could be, you wouldn’t happen to be willing to tell me? Would you?” he bat his eyelashes innocently.

“In your dreams Weasley,” [y/n] huffed, shoving him playfully.

“Ouch, tough crowd,” Fred pouted, turning so his elbows were leaned onto the table behind him.

“You know I’m only keeping it from you for my own sanity,” [y/n] chuckled, reaching over and shaking his shoulder softly.

Fred chewed his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing in the opposite direction from her, his mind clouded with doubt, wondering who this mystery person could possibly be- praying to everything holy that there was even a possibility of it being him.

Unbeknownst to him,  [y/n]’s internal dialogue was practically doing the same thing trying desperately to put a person to the smell he describe but coming up empty, her heart sinking slightly while she admonished herself for getting her hopes up too fast.    

“Well, you know I’m not gonna give up until I find out. I’ll sniff everyone in our year if it means getting my answer,” Fred teased, winking at her.

“That’s so creepy, you’ll be lucky if you can even get close enough to smell your own brother,” [y/n] laughed, letting her head roll forward slightly.

“Whatever you say,” Fred hummed, shimmying his shoulders to a silent tune, “better go get that grade of yours then, we didn’t do all that studying for nothing.”

“We might’ve since you couldn’t tell who I smelled,” [y/n] bit back a laugh when Fred glared back at her.

“You’re a twat.”

“I know.”

***

“Nadya! My dearest darling companion to ever to walk this planet, do you happen to know anyone who smells like caramel and fire whiskey?” Fred asked, throwing his arms around the two girls.

Nadya nearly spilled her drink at Fred’s sudden appearance, which didn’t particularly go down well with her, “Fred if you scare us like that again I’m going to hex you so severely you’ll be stuck in the infirmary trying to figure out how to get your wand out of your arse.”

Fred’s face drained of all it’s color (if that was even possible, being as pale as he already was), “Sorry Nadya, my bad.”

[y/n] stifled a laugh, continuing to munch on her piece of chicken, ignoring Nadya’s side eye that practically screamed “handle your own boyfriend”.

“But back to your question, I can’t say that I do, who do you have in mind so far?” Nadya humored him, trying her best to give leeway to both her best friend and her best friend’s crush.

“Well, as [y/n] so wisely said, it’s too creepy to go around and sniff people, so I’m just going off of hunches. Oliver seems like a likely candidate and so does Casper, but I’m still not sure,” Fred sighed, obviously already impatient in his search.

Nadya glanced over at [y/n] who was all to comfortable pretending she wasn’t a part of the conversation, happily sipping at her cider.

“I’m not gonna say anything, you can search for as long as you’d like, I’m not budging,” [y/n] shook her head, smiling all too amused, patting Fred’s head patronizingly.  

“You’re no fun,” Fred pouted, huffing and standing back straight, dusting off the invisible dust on his robes, “Well since I’m not gonna get an answer out of either you, I’ll take my search elsewhere, see you around.”

“Bye Freddie,” [y/n] chirped, waving goodbye to him, “So you were right.”

Nadya broke into laughter, elbowing [y/n] playfully, “I told you! You got so worked up and he hasn’t even gotten close to an answer.”

“Casper, he really thinks I’d like Casper? He’s lovely and all but imagine having to sit through him telling you about how handsome he is? That sounds absolutely awful,” [y/n] shook her head, giggling at the thought.

“I truly think he’s just lying to himself at this point, there’s no way he’d be that dumb,” Nadya claimed, refiling her cup.

“I think so too, you know Fred though, he love’s a good challenge,” [y/n] shrugged, taking another bite of her chicken, “well have to see.”

***

“Okay, I think I’ve figured it out!”

[y/n] groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes, sinking as far as she could into the couch that she thought was tucked at the very back corner of the library, “please, it’s been nearly two days! You haven’t given it up yet?”

“Not at all, it’s fun, irritating, but fun,” Fred beamed, skipping over and plopping down next to her on the couch, “See I think I’ve narrowed the search down to these three guys.”

[y/n] glanced down at the small sheet of paper he held out to her and then back at him, a tired sag in her eyes as she felt guilt start to push against her chest. Maybe she was in the wrong for letting him run around and play a fruitless guessing game that she knew he would probably never get the answer to.

“I’m thinking if you give me another clue, I could zero it down to-,”

“It’s not them Fred.”

Fred fell quiet as [y/n] pushed his hand down, taking the paper and tossing it on the small table to her side, pushing his fingers into a small fist that she held gingerly, “It’s not anyone you’ve guessed.”

[y/n] sighed and swallowed her nerves, deciding it was now or never, that if she didn’t say something now she would be tormented by regret and Fred’s relentless guesses for the rest of her life.

“It’s no one you know because,” [y/n] looked away, literally incapable of meeting the wide inviting look he was giving her right then, “it’s you Fred. I like you.”

When she was met with silence, the rock finally started to settle at the pit of her stomach, her brows knitting together as she bit back her bubbling emotions. She tried to pull her hand back but had it quickly snatched back by Fred who had threaded their fingers together.

“I knew it,” He grinned, cupping her face with one hand and pulling her to him, his lips pressing against hers extremely gentle for how abrupt the kiss had been.

[y/n]’s eyes went wide before sinking shut, her free hand wrapping around the back of his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. They sat like that for a while, the quite chatter of the other students background noise to the gentle kisses they passed between one another, the pent up impatience and nervousness draining out of them with each and every kiss.

The two of them finally pulled away, a red hue fanned over Fred’s face, his freckles even more noticeable now that she was up this close.

“Shit, I didn’t ask permission to kiss you, did I?” Fred mumbled bumping his forehead against hers, squeezing their still intertwined hands.

“It’s okay, at least I kissed back, yeah?” [y/n] whispered, thumbing over the small scar on his cheek, probably from a quidditch match.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll be better about it though,” Fred promised, tilting his head to the side to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

“Me too,” [y/n] smiled, adoration practically rolling off of her in waves, “wait- what did you mean you knew it?”

Fred pulled back and sat up straight, his lips pressed together so tightly he was practically forcing all the blood out of them, “Well, I kind of already knew from the time your tablemates sort of left us alone in potions. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

[y/n] felt her face fall, her mouth getting stuck open in an o shape, as she stared at him dumbly, “you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Unfortunately no,” Fred giggled, placing both of his hands on the sides of her face, “don’t be mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, just disappointed in myself, that shit’s embarrassing for me!” [y/n] groaned, placing her hands on top of his.

“Well it all worked out in the end didn’t it?” Fred chimed, his lips stretching out into a grin.

“I suppose it did,” [y/n] hummed thoughtfully.

“Now the real question is how you didn’t know what your own perfume smelled like,” Fred quipped, immediately bouncing back to teasing her.

“Oh for god’s sake, do I look like I research perfume scents in my free time?” [y/n] scoffed.

“A little bit,” Fred muttered.

“You know what never mind, don’t you ever try to kiss me again,” [y/n] shoved him off her playfully, scooting all the way to the opposite end of the couch.

“Now don’t be like that,” Fred groaned, crawling over to her.

“Nuh uh, nope,” [y/n] shook her head, sticking out her legs in a feeble attempt to stop his advance.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, too late, come here.”

“I said no- fine! Fine, goodness gracious.”  

“Mhm, that’s what I thought, now give me another kiss before you have to go back to doing boring homework.”

“Fine.”  

[blackswanxx]

I made a playlist about Darlin' storyline. From Quinn's pov to Darlin's one when they were together, feelings that Darlin' had towards Quinn turn into hate and then Sam happened. I just put some songs that I think would fit their feelings and how they think during the whole story. (btw I think that Quinn begged darlin' to stay everytime they would have a fight and Darlin' would bcs he is fcking good at manipulating people)

[hellerism]

its so frustrating watching char of color getting killed off. I came to expect it. but the last fcking straw for me was when the bloodlines spinoff pilot aired & i was so excited tht the main char was black and then saw everyone on here crying abt how they hated it bc sam&dean werent in it and then it didnt get picked up. its good tht ppl talk abt the racism from time to time but this has always been such a white fandom and the discussions abt racism only ever get traction when initiated by yts

im really sorry you had to deal with that, especially in a place where you should be able to have fun. it’s frustrating to see so many promising characters of color eclipsed by white characters in both the show and fan conversations. ive been trying to seek out more nonwhite perspectives on the show and ive found a few, but like you said, the fandom is very white

[dragonsclaws]

spn 15x20 liveblog

...is this it???? really

how are they this happy while cas and eileen are dead, are the writers high

cas is dead and you're eating PIE

is this just a case episode wtf is this shit

singer and kripke ugh okayyyy

WHO CARES ABOUT VAMPS WHERE'S THE ANGEL

im so bored tbh, i really could not give less of a fuck

is that Bobby's yard???

oh so that's the promo pic, nothing to do w cas apparently

is this season 2? sam and dean fighting vamps is not impressive or new at all

oh okay that was kind of funny "somebody from highschool... "

yooooo what the fuckkkk. is Dean gonna die???

call 911 wtf helloooo

we are 18 min in whattttt

wtf wtf wtf wtf wtf wtf

oh right they killed a bunch of people, lmao they can't call for the ambulance

cmon this ain't it, stop lying

"then don't leave me" broooooo

ion like this. there's still 20 minutes LEFT

so now what

this is very stupid. why would they choose to kill dean off in the first fcking half of the episode!!!!

everyone in Sam's life is dead or gone ughhhhhh. should've gotten eileen then huh, sam?

no not this, what is happening

DONNA

not the dog going upstairs too

this has to be a joke

heaven?? castiel ?

BOBBY IM GONNA CRYYYY

RUFUS kingggg

fuuuck you i thought he was gonna say it's the empty too

CAS!!!!!!!!! my heart is pounding

fuck cas that's what he's gonna do

oh so you're just gonna mention cas and he's not gonna show up

NOT THIS

he didn't get w eileen. he's now with amelia again? boooo

old sam lmaooo. they couldn't afford a better wig or??

hes gonna die in the impala what

oh he's gonna die in bed

lmao im annoyed. where is the angel and eileen

this cover is actually pretty good ngl. we love women

why is bobby in heaven old but sam is young. where's the logic there, babes

that's it? im tired y'all

the fans were here for the gay angel are y'all serious

they didn't even show misha at the end

garbage, this show is garbage i hate this

[finding-the-daylight]

So, now that my finals are officially over, I am going to proceed to have a drink or two or three and rewatch Eclipse. Here’s (soberly) what I remembered from the film prior to starting this account (since starting this account, posts re:Eclipse have reminded me of things I’m not going to include in this introduction): 

1. Bella is basically playing tic-tac-toe with Edward and Jacob and her feelings for them. She can’t make up her mind. When I watched it the first time, my dad was in the living room half paying attention to it and said she was very selfish. 

2. Edward tries to control Bella, but it’s “out of genuine concern for her”.

3. Jacob tries to control Bella, but it’s “out of genuine concern for her”.

4. Both fight for her affection and even though she’s engaged to Edward, she won’t let go of Jacob.

5. When the newborn army shows up, Bella cuts her arm with a rock.

6. There’s awkward tension in the tent.

That’s literally all I remember of the movie while sober (aside from what I have relearned from posts about Eclipse on this blog). My drunken thoughts will be below the break:

Okay, so this dude I think his name is Riley is lowkey kinda dumb, no offense. Like he just stood there and screamed “WHAT DO YOU WANT?!?” This is how all horror movies end badly. You don’t talk back. You run or hide or esape.

THE MEADOW IS SO FUCKING PRETTY. IT’S THE PUREST THING WE HAVE IN THIS FANDOM OMG HE’S PLAYING WITH EHR HAIR AND I JUST WANT SOMEOEN TO PLAY WITH MY HAIR. DAMN BELLA, MY FINALS ARE OVER. SUCKS TO SUCK, DOESN’T IT?

I never noticed the CUllen cuff before, but now thanks to this blog it’s all I’m looking @ lmao. 

I FCKING LOVE CHARLIE TOO MUCH AND HE DESERVED BETTER THIS WHOLE TIME. HE IS SUCH A GOOD FATHER AND HE DESERVES THE BEST.

THERE’S A GLOWING RED LIGHT OUTSIDE MY WINDOW WTF I THINK IT’S THE REFLECTION OF A CAR LIGHT BUT I FUCKING SWEAR

NVM ITS GONE

WHAT THE FUCK EDWARD?? YOU MESSED WITH BELLA’S TRUCK SO SHE COULDN’T SEE HER FRIEND? FUCK. I WOULD’VE DUMPED YOU AND LEFT YOU IN THE WOODS BRO.

Edward sitting with Bella’s friends. We can’t help but stan. He’s still a bitch for the truck thing though. 

I love how Alice looks @ Edward and tells him the party will be fun because she knows nothing bad will happen. But then he reads her mind and looks conerned wtf is ognna happen?

Side note: I really like the lighting in this movie. Everyone has a healthly glow. They lokk happy.

The fucking Volturi always gotta ruin everything. Bitch ass hoes. Ol’ crusty asses acting like some outdated monarchy. Why don’t the vamprires start a democratic government?

Charlie really deserved better. Like I know they couldn’t tell him teh truth but they could’ve been slightly less untruthful prbabl.

I WANNA FIND SOMEONE WHERE MY MOM SAYS WE’RE LIKE MAGNETS WITH EACH OTHER. I WANT SOMEONE TO LOOK @ ME LIKE I’M THE CENTER OF THE UNIVERSE. DAMNIT EDWARD. DAMNIT STEPHENDW. 

Y’ALL ARE TELLING ME THE ENTIRE CULELN CLAM COMBINED COULDN’T TKAE OUT VICTORIA? THIS SHIT IS GETTING UNREALISTIC LMAO.

THE MUSIC THAT STARTS PLAYING WHEN JAKE TURNS AROUND IN THE PARKING LOT SENT ME LMAOOOOO. 

Leah is such a badass and I wnat to be best friends with ehr plase. 

ALSO FCK THIE IMPRINTING STORYLINE. 

SAM AND LEAH WERE HAPPY TOGETHER.

NO BELLA YOU DON’T FUCKING WANNA KNOW WHAT IMPRINTING IS. NONE OF US WANTD WTO KNWO. IT NEVER SHOULDVE BEEN WRITTEN.

Taylor and Kristen are such babies in this movie. They’re so young and precious. WHIH REMINDS ME WHY TF DID SPTHEJNFNWFNA MAKE THIS SEIRESO ABOUT CHIDLREN??!?! I STILL SAY IF THE CHARACTERS HAS BEWNNF MORE MATUEE AND IN LIKE THEIR MID OR LATE TWNETIEMS OR THIRTIS IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER. FIUCKUNG FIGHT ME.

INITING BELLA TO HEAR THE TRIBE’S HISTORIES? THE CULTURAL APPROPRIATION FUCK STEPHEN0AWFJQ. BITCHJ.

SETH IS SO PRECIOUS. AGAIN. THEY’RE ALL SUCH BABIES. THESE POOR CHILDREN.

this hwoel shite is sof ukcing offensie. bitch. listen. why tf did stpehwb fafb have to appropriate cultues like this? BITCH>> you do realize if the legnds are actually like this they’rel ike that because it’s aout defeating yo white as sright? like your’e aware stpehebe ? 

omg bree is so scare d poor baby. literally why did stephenjdbawfbi do this? she just wnated to be ok not hurt anywaon.

exuce me vut CARLISLE IS HOT AS FUCK BITCH

edward is saying some real romantic shit and i sill hate him for the turck thing but like he loves her so much btu he’s stil an asshoel in this smovie

I’M ABOUT TO HATE JACOB I CAN FEEL IT IN MY BONES I’VE SEEN THE GIFS HOE WE GONNA GIGHT. BITCH SHE JUST TOLD YOU SHE DOESN’T LIKE YOU DON’T PUSH HER LIKE THIS. DUMBAS S HOE BITCH. YOU’RE GONNA FIGHT FOR HER? I’M GONNA FUCKIN FIGHT YOU BTCH. I WISH SHE WAS ALREAYD A VAMPIRE SO RTHAT PUNCH WOULDA HURT BITCH YOU DESERVED IT.

THESE FUCKWITS ARE FIGHTING OVER HER AND NOT LISTNEING TO HER THEY ARE BOTCH CANCELLED. BELLA NEEDS TO LEAVE BOTH THESE HOES AND GET A NEW MAN WHO ACTUALLY KNOWS HOW TO LISTNE. BITCHES.

I love Emmett so much. BELLA SHOULD FINA A MAN LIKE HIM. IT’S WHAT SHE DESERVES.

ROSALIE IS ABOUT TO POP TF OFF. SHE IS A QUEEN AND I LVOE AND SUPPORT HER. the saddest thing about this is that she thought her life was perfect and then some fucking asshoes ruiend it. she was so happy. wtf im gonna cry. fuck. i hate sptehej n so much. these gross ass hoes i’m gonna cik all theyre assses. this is so gross i’m so angry literaluy setthing beithc. BUT THEN SHE GETS HER REVENGE AND IT’S BEAUTIFUL. FUCK THOSE BASTARS. but she;s so sad it breaks my heart. she wants to be human so bad. this scene is so sad and it’s theonly good scene in twilight and nikki reed deserves an ocsa like if you agree.

jane and alec more childrne who should’ve been able to be children fck the volturie

why the hel is jessica the fucking valedinact ion? it should’ve been bella they made her seem so damn smart but now she’s not theo ne? i don’ beliee it. but anna kendrick is a gift and now i wanna watch ptiche perfect. CHARLIE is so pure he deserved better and i’m gona kep saying it.

i love those fucking rose colored lamps hanging at the cullens house int he window at hte party scene can anyone link them to me i need? 

why the hell is the wolfpack athe cullesn hosue? this doesnt make sense and it doesn’t seem real am i too drunk and imabginf this?

jno wait it’s real. jake’s appolgoizng.

how fucking conventinet the woflpakc is there hwen alice realizes there abotu to be attacked. this aint realistc. bitc.

why are these kids being forces to act like audls? “I wans;t asking for permission” hoe you’re like 16 go home and go tib ed and odnt go to war.

these woflies gonan kick yo ass edward get tf out

i’m laughign nrow but nothigng funy is happening lmaoooo

fck carlisle is really hot as fuck his jawline kills me

i hate jasper’s hair here i’m sorry i know we all lovehim bt heis hair is a dam nmess

belal is so fuckign negative all the time no one is gonan get killed exceptsvictoris

THE COWBOOIIIII WHY DOES HE LOOKS LIKE OWNE WILSON IN THIS DAMN LIGHTIN? ALICE AND JASPER LOVE EACH TOHER SO MUCH MY APLOGIZKE MAAM FCK IT UP.

why thfe fuck is hake comparing his situaton with leah and sam and emily? We are nto the same hoe wae are not the same. bella is choosing edward sit yo ass down. but i still thin kyall are both problemastic as fuck in thos movie and hse deserves better.

CHARLIES DESEVRS  BTETER THEY KEEP LYIGN EVEN WHEN THEY DUCKGN DONT NEED TO

reblog if you thought edward and bella wre gona fuc, when she went over to his house in eclipse when yo ufirst read the book or saw the movue

he really oes love her a lot though fkcn i’m so alone 

 he looks si sad wgen he mentind ices tea on the porch poor edward

EVERY DANM MOMENR OF FOREVER BITCG I WANT  LOVE LIK THST 

LITERALLY THIS IS THE SUTPEIDEST PLOT EVER. A WHOLE FUCKIN ARMY TOO ATTACK ONE IGRL? BITCH. THIS AINT EVEM A THING. 

im gettign ral tired yall dik if i waill mke it to the end of this movie but i will tru

i hate the enrgey from jae and efard in this tent. ya’ll are both dumb hoes and she could do better than either ofy ou. 

WRHAT THE FUCK FASTER IF YOUR TOOK YORU CLOTHS OFF BITCH WHAT THE FUCK NOW I AM GONNA FUCKIN PUNCH YOU IB HOEP BELLA OUBCHES YOU WHEN SHES A VMAPRIE STUPID HOE 16 YEAR OLD SHOULD BE AT HOME IN BED INSTEAD OF IN A TENT TRYING TO FIGH A FCUKCN WAR

edward is such an emo boi in the tent and he thinsk she doesn;t lve him any more. yo ua stipiud hoe edearf but she still loves you anwyab ithc.

wheb edward said i’m not gonna force her into naythign ever agin i realized he was hte better man good for you eddie you fickun manned up you win

MY REASON FOR ESXITNST HOE I JST WNAT TO BE LOVED

now edwards bene a fuckboi again trying to hurt jake b ymaking sure he knew they were getting maried edward what the fuck iw was just starting to be on your side agian and you let me down like this

jacob is beign an emo boi now jake go be a child @ home and stop this nonsense you’re not a man go be a chid and take a nap and eat some grilled cheese youkk feel better

now she told him she wants to kiss him wtf bella don’t kead this bitch on he’s already in pain let hom gp home and eat a grilled cheese

mow bella’ supsetti spaghetti because edwards know she kissed jake

this shit is so unenecasialr dramtic wht the fuck yall  like a whole army ofver one girl and then its like all everyboyd trying kill everybody this is bulshittheyre all children who should eb at home eating grileld chesses not at war

victoria is a real bitch lying to this boy telling hin she lvoes him hoe bitch

og shit efward ifs pissed now he’s tauntign ab ithc

i acutaly kinda fel bad for riley he wnet through so mcuh and was manipulated i wish the cullens could have adopted him and bree

oshit is the volutire 

SAM DONT FUCKUGN TALK TO LEAH LIKE THAT EVER AGIAN YOU HOE

CARLISE AND I REPEAT AGAIB IS HOT AS FUCK FUCK CARLISRL

I LITERALLY AHTE THE VOLTURIE FOR KILLIGN VREE THEY WILL NEVER BE FORGIVEN

JASPER KNOWS WHATS GOOD HE DOESN’T TURST THESE HOES

I’M SO PISEED THAT THE CULLENS NEVER FUCKING IFHT THE VOLTURIE LIKE CARLISLES IS SMART AS FUCK AND EHS TILL WONT START A DEMOCRAY LIKE YALL KNOW ROSLAIE WOULDVE FOGUHT FOR THAT SHIT TOO

 I LVOE YOUDADY CARLISLE

THIS 16 YEAR OLD LYING UP HERE BECAUSE OF TE DUMBASS WAR I TOLD YALL TO GO GOEN AND EA A GRILELD CHEDWE

poor jakie he knows hed better good for her but she reallys loves eward jake deserved better than what he got reblog is youf agree he jst said he’s even love her after she’s a vamprie bruh go eat a grilled chease and love yourself

WERE BACK IN THE FUCKING MEADOW ITS LIT AND ITS LOVELY I WANNA FALL IN LOVE IN A MEADOW WITH A HANDAOME MYSTERIOUS MAN WHO LOVES ME UNCODNITONATLY

KIRSTNE STEQARD IS THE WBEST AND SHE DESERVED AN OSCAR FOR THIS MOVIE HER AND NIKKI REED AND NODBOYD ELSE

fianlly this bitch is gonna beh onest with chalrie took you long enough

that was an anticlamtnc ending but i love love

[gifsbysimplysonia]

As I’m rewatching the pilot episode of LEVERAGE and Eliot had to be an IT guy, I'm now thinking about how to get Steve Rogers in glasses and undercover as an IT guy somewhere lol 

I'd love to play AGAINST the stereotype that Steve had or has so much trouble adjusting to modern technology. There are so many fandom wide ideas/concepts that are, from what I’ve seen, accepted by the majority that I DO NOT SUBSCRIBE TO, and this one is right at the top of my THAT IS NOT MY CANON list. 

I don't understand why people want to put him in that box, ignore the mind that accompanies the muscle, but this cartoon sums it up very well (from HERE but if anyone knows the artist or original source, please let me know!)

THIS is Canon Steve for me. 

Marvel’s Avengers Assemble cartoon also plays with the stereotype and I appreciate it A LOT. In that cartoon, Steve is still RELUCTANT about technology but that’s REALLY DIFFERENT to being intimidated by or unable to grasp tech. Steve having a healthy amount of suspicion about humans being plugged in all the time and everywhere? THAT makes way more sense to me than “Steve needs help installing Windows” or “Steve doesn’t get the iPhone.” Steve never struck me as a dude who couldn’t adapt; his learning curve is off the charts, ain’t it? Why so many believe that would change when it came to modern tech has always been beyond me.

So yeah, I’d love an idea for Steve having to go undercover as an IT guy and probably Tony? Thinking that’s a JOKE and that he would have to give him a crash course in some basics but then having Steve blatantly refuse, Tony EXCITED to watch Steve crash & burn, but then as he’s listening in/watching the op go down ... realizing Steve knows A FCKING LOT and being BLOWN away. This would have to be early on in Steve and Tony’s relationship, though, cuz I also hate it when people don’t give Tony credit for knowing Steve on certain levels. After TIME together, I fully believe Tony would give Steve a hard time about not WANTING to be into tech versus not knowing how to use it. Again, THAT dynamic is in Marvel’s Avengers Assemble and I love it so much. I also believe that Tony sees the potential in people and can fully recognize their abilities and what they can do if they CHOOSE to do it.  

If we went with the easy way of Tony looking dumb for underestimating Steve, though, Bucky and Sam can be there to laugh at Tony’s underestimating the pretty blonde because it’s fcking FUNNY when people make asses out of themselves by assuming stuff and get faced :P It’s basic but for me, entertaining.

Problem is I have no actual idea for how to make this happen, nor am I versed in tech enough to make it believable lmaoooooooooo. 

BUT IT WOULD BE FUN CUZ UNDERESTIMATED BRAINY STEVE ROGERS IN GLASSES IS AMAZING: