Tbh my biggest headcanon is that after eggsy and harry sleep together for the first time, harry freaks out right after and goes to sneak out, and eggsy just quietly murmurs “if you leave right now we’re gonna find out if youre lucky enough to survive two shots to the head” and so harry just quietly climbs back into bed as eggsy whispers “yeah thats what i thought”

What if Cullen got the room with half a forest in it because he managed to piss off Josephine somehow, and she’s the one in charge of procurement.

And he has no idea.  Look at him in that picture, all proud of his open roof and his side table that is made from a barrel.  He is like, yes, this is how a  member of the Good Guys lives, no more furniture bought with Tranquil-earned blood money for me!  Statues of tortured slaves are out, evening visits form woodland friends are in!


To know my journey as a Black disabled woman, you have to know my past.  

I was born with OI (Osteogenesis Imperfecta), better known as brittle bones disease.  My beloved Grandmother raised me in a loving home, & showed me what unconditional love was about.  I have part of her name, & have always been proud of that name - Vilissa.  Unbeknownst to me until I reached adulthood, Vilissa is French, & means, “to love & cherish life.”  How fitting of a name for a young disabled Black girl who was smart, caring, loving, fun, kind-hearted, sassy, loved to learn, & knew how special she was by the praise she received at home, at school, and from those she met.  

The young Vilissa would experience many successes as she went through school, which empowered her because she knew she was just as good, if not better, as anyone else.  Her excelling in every subject motivated her to do well in the subjects she loved - reading & writing.  She had no idea how powerful words would be to her as an adult, but at this time, she loved reading her Baby-Sitters Club books, & writing in countless journals, sometimes creating worlds & characters that didn’t exist, but her imagination & ability to tell a story grew profoundly.  

As I grew into my teen & adult years, I changed in ways that I didn’t imagine, but the loving, supportive foundation I had in my younger years caused me to be steadfast as I grew & navigated an able-bodied society.

This is Part 1, showing my years from 1st birthday to 12 years old.  

Anyone who glorifies drug addiction for the sake of fucking grunge or art or fucking just tumblr being a cunt and romanticizing literally everything, can go fuck yourself.
Addiction isn’t fucking beautiful, it’s terrifying. Actually being addicted to drugs and then getting clean and recovering from it, is a lot harder than it seems. It’s not fun. It’s not cool. Being addicted to drugs isn’t waking up in a bathtub with your friends, it isn’t all fun and games. Being addicted to drugs is waking up in your own vomit, it’s not showering for weeks at a time, it’s living only to get high and getting high so that you can live. Addiction is lying to your own mom for drug money. Addiction is not eating for three weeks, because it’s either food or drugs. Addiction is destroying your relationships and making new ones with bad people, it’s building walls of amphetamines around your brain. Addiction is having your body shut down because of not sleeping or eating for weeks. Addiction is losing the best job you’ve ever had because you wanted to get high instead of go to work. Addiction is turning down wonderful opportunities because it doesn’t involve drugs, addiction is somehow getting three grams every night. Addiction is craving the come-down. Addiction is losing all hope and slitting your wrists in a tiny bathroom in the basement, because you just want it to be over. Addiction is always pushing your limit and not being afraid to.
Addiction is scary. It takes lives. When you get clean, you finally think you’re done. You think you’re going to get on the road straight to recovery and never look back. No. You have slip-ups. Some of us get sucked right back in. For me, addiction had me at a point where I get sick at even the thought of the feeling I got from drugs. Euphoria and nostalgia both make me want to vomit. It’s no longer comforting. Addiction is completely fucking your neurotransmitters for the rest of your life. Addiction is completely fucking yourself for the rest of your life. Addiction isn’t some aesthetic. Addiction is scary. Addiction is real.
—  ― A former addict who’s really fucking sick of seeing people acting like addiction isn’t a serious fucking illness because of this fucking website (via fishdticks)
You Can (Not) Receive

Im so sorry, I need to make some space in my brain, so Im putting this AU idea here. Dont mind me… (/o\)

Kawoshin volleyball AU where Gendo is the chairman of a school with a successful volleyball team and he forces Shinji to play for them. He is

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