because they have taken over my life

In this month of pride, let me give a shoutout to all my LGBTQIA+ people who have changed how they identify over the years. To the people still trying to figure out their identity, even if they thought they found one that fit.

You’re no less part of the community if you first identified as a lesbian, but now ID as a straight trans man. You’re not any less if you first identified as bi, but now consider yourself gay. You’re not any less if you identified as a binary trans person but now have a nonbinary identity.

Don’t let anyone convince you that you had to have known you were a certain way since you were a child to be valid. Don’t let anyone convince you that because your label could change in the future, you aren’t welcome. Don’t let anyone convince you that you must identify a certain way.

We’re all growing and learning about ourselves and maybe what fits today won’t fit a decade from now, but that’s okay. You’re not a bad person for not immediately having perfect knowledge of yourself. You’re not a fake because your identity has changed.

Miraculous Ladybug Timeline (COMPLETE) (FIXED MISTAKES)

Because a kids cartoon has taken over my life, and I love it.

 *some of the episodes positions on the timeline are based on speculation


This is how I think the chronogical order of episodes is:

And this is why I put every episode where it is (sorry that it turned into a 27 slides powerpoint)

Okay, that’s it! This is probably the logest meta post I have ever done! If someone finds some inaccurancies just tell me (but politely), I am open to correct mistakes and such! DO NOT point out mistakes anymore. I seriously know about all of them but I am too busy to correct them. Also a lot of people were so freaking rude about them, and I’m just…………….. really not happy having people screaming or insulting me in my inbox.

Also, I’ll tag my ladybug friends who may be interested @nubriema (27 slides PP I told u!) @zoetekohana @joyfulotaku

anonymous asked:

What if Stiles and Derek's first kiss is post-nogitsune? Would he feel like a thief? Would he mourn the body that Derek never held? Would each brush of fingertips or kiss to his temple be a betrayal? They'd probably talk about the scars too. Derek would understand-- to an extent. But he grew up not without his history on his skin so he'll never understand how it feels to have that ripped away.

Their lips brush and Stiles turns away a second later, breaths shallow, hands twitching against the folds of Derek’s shirt. There’s warm breath on his cheek, the ghost of beard still so close and all Stiles can think is that he wants this. He wants this. And…

It’s wrong.

Those fingers, twitching against Derek’s shirt, smooth and uncalloused. The scar that used to live above his third knuckle just a burn-hot memory in his mind.

Everything still feels off in his body, out of balance, and he remembers the way Derek used to look at him. All tension and frustration in ways he couldn’t start to make sense of. And now Derek’s lips are in reach, a short turn away, and he’s murmuring out “Stiles…?” and all Stiles can think is…

“Do you want me?”

He can feel the stall in Derek’s thoughts like a physical reaction, and he wonders if there was a subtle tell or if… if he’d just felt it, inside, the confusion a flicker of chaos in Derek’s chest. Can he do that? Feel chaos? The Nogitsune drank it in and Stiles…

“Stiles,” Derek breathes again, a quirk of amusement in his tone. Thumbs smooth down his hips and Stiles fights the urge to rise into the contact. “Thought I’d just answered that question.”

And Stiles could leave it at that, asked and answered. Except…

There should be a scar on his hip, long and thin, from a fence he’d scaled once and dropped down five times faster. Derek should be feeling that right now, that piece of Stiles’ history, that stupid ten year old adventure laid out across his skin. But the skin’s smooth. Blank slate.

He shivers, gripping tighter into Derek’s shirt.

“No, I––” He can’t think of how to explain it. The thoughts are a choked feeling in his throat, a twist in his gut. Something like guilt and fear and he doesn’t even know what answer he wants when he leans back enough to find Derek’s eyes and say: “Since when? Did you… I mean, before…”

He’s not sure Derek knows what he means, but there’s a hint of flush under that dark beard suddenly, and Stiles gets a little bit lost in the contrast.

“Last summer.”

“Last––?” It pulls Stiles back, his eyes startling up. That was… most of a year, that was before…

A sick lurch sets him falling back out of Derek’s grip. Too-smooth fingers (uncalloused) slip too easy from Derek’s chest. His sneaker-covered feet might as well be walking over glass and he’s being dramatic except that he’s really not. Because if Derek wanted him last summer…

“That wasn’t me.” It sounds wrong as he says it, stupid, because… he was there that summer. He remembers every moment spent with Derek, researching the Alphas, searching for hints of Boyd and Erica. Charged smirks and snark and quiet moments that felt more comfortable than they should. He remembers the moments before summer too, when the thought of Derek made his heart pound and his body thrum in a way that could have only meant fear, except it hadn’t only been fear. He’d been scared of the Alpha too, and the hunters, and that coil of electric heat only sparked through his gut for Derek. He remembers that, like he remembers the scars that aren’t there anymore, and he can’t help running his too-soft fingertips over the smooth flesh of his knuckle as he breathes out, faint and lost, “…Was that me?”

There’s a too long pause while the question burns back into his throat, buzzing through his limbs like a current until he realizes he’s shaking from them. Was that him? Helping Derek track the Alpha pack? Helping Scott learn to control his wolf? Sitting by his mom’s hospital bed, watching her lose the long war to her illness, pieces of her flaking away like old scars, like a whole identity, like––

A warm hand closes over his, large and gentle, grounding.

“It was you,” Derek says, simply. Like there’s no question, like nothing’s changed. Like Stiles hasn’t changed. 

But that’s wrong. He’s not the same person he was before the Nogitsune, and he’s not talking in the experiences change you, huh kind of way. He’d had scars before. He’d had… a whole life written on his skin. And then he’d crawled out from inside his possessed body’s throat, spawned out like some alien parasite or… clone and––

“My body died, back there.” Four months past, and he still can’t wrap his head around it. That he’d watched himself bitten and impaled, spasm and cracking and shatter to dust.

The scarred body. His real body.

And he was left in… this.

Long fingers uncurl, stretching out slow. Thin, pale digits fitting strangely perfect between Derek’s, and Stiles can only wonder what it would have looked like before.

“…What if I’m not real?” He watches Derek’s fingers twitch, barely perceptible, tightening like they’re fighting to hold onto him. And Derek’s lost enough in his life, too much. It’s a dick move to say this, to take anything else away from him, but… “What if the guy you wanted last summer… what if he died inside the Nogitsune, and I’m just––”


The sureness of it has Stiles’ throat clenching. He tilts his head, challenging. Finds Derek’s eyes again.

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you.”

Which is just… it’s stupid how that makes Stiles’ heart jump. Flutter around like it’s fighting to leap the distance between them and plaster itself all up against Derek’s stupid, muscled, secretly sweet as hell chest.

Which… yeah, that’s nearly a gross enough visual to stomp his fondness boner in the bud. He sets his jaw.

“Did you know I used to have a scar on––”

“Your right hand? Just above the third knuckle, a burn.”

Stiles’ argument stalls out. He blinks, finger shifting to rub over the space, but Derek’s is already there, soothing the phantom mark over his skin.

“I… was eleven.” Because silence has never been safe for him. Because noise distracts from the too-easy pleasure rippling up his arm. “First time I tried cooking dinner for me and dad. Mac and cheese, it… didn’t go great.” He wets his lips. Looks away “Or… the other me did, I don’t––”

You did.” And Derek still sounds so damn sure. Stiles wants to believe him. He parts his lips, can’t. Because––

“Stiles, I’ve never had scars on my skin. I… can’t relate to what it’s like to lose them. But the things that have happened to me… they’re not any less real because I can’t see them. Every bullet, cut, punch I’ve taken…” He might sense the wince forming on Stiles’ face, and shakes his head, shrugging that off like it’s not important. But that’s an argument for another day. “Every scar life gave you… they’re still there. You’re still carrying them, inside you.” He flits his eyes down Stiles’ frame, then away, finger soothing over the ghost burn. “There are plenty no one would have ever seen anyway. But they made you. Who you are, and who you are…” He shakes his head, looks back to meet Stiles’ eyes squarely. “You recognized me when I was a teenager. That’s the same person who recognized me in the preserve.” Stiles feels his face heat because… even knowing Derek’s a werewolf now, he’d never put together that Derek would have heard his fangirl moment to Scott after Derek had walked away.

Before he can speak up, though, Derek’s going on. “You tracked me to Mexico. Faced down the Calaveras to save me. That’s the same person who stared down the Argents, drove a Jeep into a kanima, who hit an Alpha with a wooden baseball bat––”

“Two Alphas,” Stiles cuts in, because props, ok? “Two, that were…” His free hand mimes squishing, and Derek’s lips twitch.

“Two,” he agrees, and Stiles can’t not smile back. Just for a second –– fond, helpless –– then he’s ducking his head. Derek sighs, catches his chin. Guides it up until their gazes lock again.

“That was you,” he says, so firmly Stiles can’t help believing this time. “Was the man who clawed his way out of his own possession. Followed Scott’s howl back to the real world. And whatever happened to your body, whatever… magic gave you a new one, Stiles came out with it. Your scars are still there, just…” His fingers trail to Stiles’ chest, and something thumps out eagerly to meet them.

“Inside,” Stiles breathes, and the way Derek’s eyes warm makes him shiver with a proud ripple of pleasure.

“Inside,” Derek echoes. Runs a thumb light along Stiles’ lip. “You could have come out of the Nogitsune looking like anything. Wouldn’t change who you are.”

And damn, Stiles has fallen for a goddamn poet in a grumpy wolf’s body. …But then, Stiles is pretty sure he’d known that already.

His fingers go up, curl gently into Derek’s shirt.

“But… you like this body,” he prompts, and Derek gives an exasperated huff, pulling him in.

“I like this body,” he confirms, and it doesn’t feel wrong to hear that.

When Derek kisses him this time, Stiles doesn’t pull away.


So the cast of RFA Party PH’s RFA Cafe has taken over my life and ruined my work schedule but I have no regrets because I love them all… and they inspire me, okay??? Thank you guys for making our days brighter long after the end of event! I drew their out of costume group photo as their characters cause I thought it’d be cute~ and aren’t they just as gorgeous out of costume? haha again… Thank you guys for what you do for us. ♥

My favorite otayuri headcanon is Yuri “Has Zero Chill and Also Doesn’t Know How Friendship Works” Plisetsky believing every coupley thing he and Otabek do is “ because they’re friends.”

Like, Otabek’s like, why are you putting another straw in my smoothie and Yuri’s like YOU WON’T DRINK OUT OF THE SAME CUP AS ME AT THE SAME TIME? AND YOU CALL YOURSELF MY FRIEND??

Otayuri are holding hands. “Why wouldn’t I hold his hand when he’s my friend??”

Yuri sitting on Otabek’s lap in first class. Flight attendant is like um, we’re in turbulence, you need to return to your seat. “WE HAVE TO WATCH THE MOVIE TOGETHER BECAUSE WE’RE FRIENDS.”

I’m talking like, the two of them could be sharing a one-bedroom apartment, sleeping in the same bed every night, and Yuri would still think it’s “because he has a friend.”

And Otabek thinks it’s so cute that he doesn’t even point it out until they’re like, engaged or something

Carousel | 05

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

➤ Character: Min Yoongi x reader 

➤ Genre/words: Angst, Implied smut, Arranged Marriage! AU / 10,491 words

➤ Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?

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Quick advice for girls looking to enter the bowl…

This shit is NOT for shits and giggles. Don’t be blinded by the luxury pics of BMWs, Chanel bags, Louboutins, and slim girls on vacation drinking champagne.

I’ve been a sugar baby for approximately a year now, I’ll be 25 in December. The shit I’ve learned AND endured the past year are lessons I’ll one day teach my daughter. I have no problem with a young girl entering the bowl, but do it for the right reasons. Once you enter this life, it will FOREVER be apart of you. Never steer away from your morals for some money, gifts, and/or vacations; the shit isn’t worth it in the end. TRUST ME.

If you don’t have the hustler mentality, this life ain’t for you sweetheart. These men will walk all over you; and the LAST thing I want to happen is for some young girl to be taken advantage of just because she wanted some nice shit.

If you can’t do your own research, this ain’t for you. No one is going to spoon feed you info. There is no sugar baby handbook. Research first, google is there for a reason. If you have questions afterwards, then ask. None of these girls on here owe you a damn thing. The same way we learned this info, secrets, and tricks you can learn them too. So be grateful if a girl answers your questions, but don’t get an attitude if she doesn’t.

Set goals for what you want to achieve in the bowl. It’s so easy to be blindsided by the money coming in that you forget why you started doing this in the beginning. If you got loans to pay off, stick to that. If you’re saving for something, stick to that. But don’t forget that money goes into this lifestyle. This lifestyle is an expense. You need money to maintain your hair, nails (mani/pedi), makeup, transportation, spending money, feminine essentials, clothing, etc. Shit adds up so don’t be ashamed to charge that man the money you KNOW you deserve. Never forget your worth. If you’re scared to ask for an allowance raise or a PPM raise, this isn’t for you. CLOSED MOUTHS DON’T GET FED. The same way your SD isn’t afraid to ask for sex/head/companionship, don’t be afraid to ask for those funds!!

Last but not least, learn when to walk away. If you’re becoming overwhelmed with the bowl, take a break. NOTHING is more important that your mental/physical health! You might lose out on some money for a while, but there’s always men in the bowl waiting. Still do those activities that you enjoy whether it’s reading, sleeping, watching Netflix, whatever it is do it. You can’t be the best SB if you can’t properly function on a day to day basis. Take care of yourself. Go to a spa, do some retail therapy, sleep in for a few hours, spend time with friends and family; just do something outside of the bowl. You’re going to need it for those days where you don’t want to talk to old men all day and night.

I hope some of you girls take my advice. Just go into this with a clear head. I’ve seen the bowl turn girls into addicts and a whole bunch of other crazy shit. If you have a inkling of doubt, that’s your instinct telling you it’s not for you. And that’s okay baby girl, not everyone is built for this life. I’m not trying to discourage or scare anyone, but don’t force yourself into something you’re not ready for.

Okay, let me try this again since y'all are sleeping on my original post.

Hi, I’m Em. I turned 18 a month ago. This stopped my survivor’s benefits from my father dying when I was 12. Thanks to social security screwing up and ending the benefits even though I’m still a student, I’m now being forced to live with my emotionally (and sometimes physically) abusive mother. I was living with my elder brother and his wife an hour away from here, but she’s decided I’m not allowed to stay with them and “run up their bills”, yet she constantly lets me know how much of a burden I am on her.

I have very little clothes with me, because when I was taken out here it was on the assumption that I was staying for about a week. It’s been over a month now and she plans on making it longer by making me the legal caretaker for my 76 year old grandmother (a woman who has hit me several times before, and once when I was 15, threatened my life with a hammer). Almost all of my personal belongings are at my brother’s house, as is my cat, Eddie, and all of her things. I have had to cancel important doctor’s visits to deal with a chronic condition.

She lives out in the country near State game lands in a 36 foot RV where I have absolutely no privacy and am forced to sleep on a small couch with her dog. The closest businesses in which I would be able to get a job are 5 or more miles down a major highway, past two truckstops, and through a large intersection connecting three highways.

I’m not asking for thousands of dollars. I’m not even asking for money for nothing in return, though donations would be much appreciated as well. I do angel card and Rider-Waite tarot card readings. They’re $1 per card used in the spread. I can also do pendulum readings for yes or no questions, those will be $1.

I just need enough to convince her to allow me to go back to my brother’s house, so that I can get a job in that town. I need to be able to make money, as I need a car, and eventually rent when I’m able to move out fully.

Please reblog this. I’m getting kind of desperate.

I don’t have a PayPal, but my Cash App is$mallgoth99

happy holidays! happy new year! happy everything and everyone and every other thing!

i know it’s been a while. truuuust me, i know. and i know a lot of you have been kind and have been asking about me. and i love you for it. and all the messages here — trust me when i say i want to reply to all of you, but like. there are a lot. genuinely a shit ton. more than i deserve, probably. but i love you, i promise.

that being said, here’s a couple of truths to all of you in order to start 2018 off right:

my health in 2017 was — not the best. at all. i spent almost every other week at a different specialist, taking different medications, taking a monthly shot, blah blah blah, boring sad stuff. i’m pretty sure i can diagnose other people now with how much medical jargon’s been thrown at me. but, like, in spanish, because all my doctors’ visits have been in mexico, heh.

so there is that, and then also there was me taking care of my niece through all of this anyway, and when i did have free time, i either felt a) too sick to write, b) too sick to be inspired, or c) wanted to spend the days i didn’t feel so bad to do things with my family. mostly watch football, tbh. if you follow me on twitter, that’s probably something you’re sick of.

i wrote a little bit in these months. enough to change the process in the updates bar in my page, as some of you might have noticed. but since then, not much else.

i want 2018 to be a lot better. and considering where i stand in the health department, and the steps i need to take to help myself, as well, i think it will be. i want to end 2018 in a much better place than i ended 2017 (which was mostly wallowing in my own bad luck and shit. gross.) and i want to get my shit together so that my  health doesn’t take over my life like it’s done these past couple of months.

THE POINT OF ALL OF THIS IS: i love you guys SO much. so, so much. there have been a few bad apples here that have definitely not made it any easier for me to *meet the robinsons voice* ~keep moving forward~ and shit, which is also why i’ve taken a break from this site because sometimes it was just so negative and unhealthy and i needed to surround myself with things that, you know. weren’t. for both my mental and my physical health.

i want that to be better, for sure, but i’m always too scared to come back to this site for fear that it won’t be. so it might be a while. that being said, i also want 2018 to bring about the conclusion of tmtts. but like, the right one. as in, i want to finish it, heh. and i’m going to! you’re going to get an end. i’m going to dedicate my time to making more conscious, healthy choices, and finding my passion for writing again, the same way you all helped me find it once more through this fandom.

for every bitter, angry message someone has sent me, i’ve gotten so many more beautiful ones — even some from actual real authors that think for some reason i can write and shit, which, like, wow, okay, I LOVE YOU. so 2017!!!! you kicked my ass, alright, but imma be here kicking 2018’s ass, instead.

i hope you all had a wonderful start of the new year. and if you didn’t, i hope things only look up from here. i love you all so much and you all deserve all of the love in the world. let me find my footing this month, and i promise you you’ll have a chapter seven update soon after. i’m sending you all of my well wishes.

happy 2018!

I found I am afraid to write about today. Perhaps it is too raw.

But I learned something today. I learned more about trust. I have struggled with an irrational fear that people for whom i care will be taken from me because I don’t deserve love or what I need.

I also believed that because I am difficult (emotional, intense, loving, have needs.. or am a typical girl. 🙄).. that others would leave.

I see through current and past experiences, my beliefs are incorrect.

In 2014, I had a friend that I had been close with help me see myself and life through a new lens. During that huge transformation, I really struggled with fear of loss. He taught me that Gone doesn’t mean Gone. Our relationship has changed over the years through many phases. I no longer have panic attacks that he will die as I used to.

Today I learned through an incredible man that I can trust. Trust him to be Home.. and trust my intuition…and I will leave it at that. 🏡

Alexander: *closes the door on Laurens* You can’t come in here! Hercules is naked!

Hercules: What?

Alexander: I couldn’t say I was naked because he’s allowed to see me naked.

Hercules: Why does anyone have to be naked?

Laurens: Why is Hercules naked?

Hercules: Um… I have something to show to alex.

Laurens: Naked?

The Way You Looked at Me. [Chapter One]

Pairing: Jung Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst

College AU!

Word Count: 2.1K

[TEASER:SHORT] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Final Chapter]

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin


I looked at him from the other side of the lecture hall. Seeing his side profile, I wanted to smile. I wanted to continue to admire his features, but I couldn’t. I can’t be caught by anyone here. He was sat alone, at the bottom corner of the lecture theatre, closest to the exit. When it’s time to go he would always be the last one to go. He was smart, he would take his sweet time to pack up his things after finishing off writing his notes. His notes were so well written, so neat - those things reflected the person that he was. He was well composed, and neat. 

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Anakin’s Intelligence

Something that truly upsets me, (unless it’s in the right context), is the accepted presumption that Anakin is unintelligent, even downright stupid, that seems to pervade fandom. Anakin is not stupid. He was a very intelligent, and insightful individual. We see this from the beginning:

  • He builds his own podracer
  • He figures out Qui-Gon is a Jedi
  • But waits until the opportune moment to reveal it
  • He uses his own value as a slave to hold over Sebulba’s head in a fight
  • He tricks Watto a whole lot
  • He can fly basically anything-which is not easy, especially at nine
  • He tells Jar Jar that Sebulba was trying to conquer his own fear by crushing others. That’s very insightful.
  • He tells the Council that Padme won’t agree to leave Coruscant without being pressured. 
  • He, not Obi-Wan, figures out the best places to target the Separatists on Geonosis. Obi-Wan calls it a “good call.”
  • He’s a gifted military strategist. We see plenty of evidence of this.
  • He also is a good engineer
  • etc. etc.

Basically, what I’m saying is Anakin was a prodigy who was also very insightful. Anakin was in no way an idiot. 

The reason Anakin, so far as I can tell, is perceived as an idiot is because he was manipulated by Palpatine. This reasoning disturbs me. Anakin is about 12 years old when Palpatine starts taking an interest in him. Palpatine is also quite an intelligent man. He doesn’t do anything that could really set Anakin’s alarms going off initially, not unless you’re wise to him, like we are, and know what’s up. Anakin is a child here. He is an insecure child at that. His Master, Obi-Wan, whom he trusts, has told him, and allowed him, to spend time with Palpatine. Why should he mistrust an adult his guardian has allowed him to spend time with? I certainly didn’t mistrust my baby-sitters growing up, because my parents brought them into my life. Anakin, like any child with his background, is starved for some genuine attention, validation, and affection. Palpatine plays on that masterfully and uses it against him. This does not make Anakin stupid! It makes him a victim. Few children, especially in Anakin’s situation, wouldn’t have enjoyed Palpatine’s attention. Perhaps I am entirely misinterpreting what I have encountered in fandom, but the perception that I have encountered that Anakin is downright stupid, because of his friendship with Palpatine, bothers me. Don’t blame the victim, who was a child might I add when the predatory relationship began! It’s not Anakin’s fault he was taken advantage of. He can be blamed for many things, but he is no way responsible for what Palpatine did to him.

Truthfully whenever I read anything between Palpatine and Anakin, especially a young!Anakin, it really skeeves me out. It makes me sick to my stomach to see a child who trusts the adults in his life, (as most children do), be taken advantage of. It’s repulsive, and I have honestly teared up over it at times. It’s so horrific. Anakin is so young, earnest, and well-meaning. He’s a sweetheart, and I have to watch while he gets manipulated by a Sith, and no one bothers to look into the situation. Very few twelve year olds, especially one’s who have a history like Anakin, are going to clue in that they’re being used until it is much too late. What I see is a tragedy. I don’t dismiss Anakin and say he was a easily-manipulated fool. I don’t believe he was stupid. (Besides, he almost doesn’t fall in RoTS, and it took Palpatine years of work to get him there.) All I see is a small boy who was preyed on by a much older man with ill intentions. It truly disgusts me to watch any scene with him and Palpatine together, and I loathe that anyone would call Anakin stupid for it. The fault for the manipulations lies with Palpatine, (and the Jedi Council/Obi-Wan for letting a young child spend time with a man whose intentions they didn’t trust.) You can blame Anakin for many things, but you should’t blame him for that. He isn’t stupid. He is a victim.

Personally I think it has been a good year for Dramas…

You had the end of Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Joo, Goblin and The Legend of the Blue Sea.

Then there was Strong Woman Do Bong Soon, My Father is Strange, and Fight for My Way

My summer was then taken by Suspicious Partner and then the beauty that was The Best Hit (still not over it…)

And now While You Were Sleeping and Because This is My First Life!!!!!!!!

Could not be happier with the stories and plots!!! Plus all of them have amazing ost’s!!!!


Digital collages by slimesunday

Slimesunday is a moniker that is not supposed to make any sense or have some profound hidden meaning behind it. Its a random incidental title I gave myself in late 2014 while watching an old Eminem interview.

The goal from day one has always been to create something; To occupy a blank page with some idea before I fall asleep. If that day I’ve created nothing, then I won’t fall asleep because there is this overwhelming feeling of dissatisfaction. If there is something there, I wake up the next day ready to repeat the cycle. I have created a situation for myself in which the only way to sleep is to create something before the day ends. It doesn’t make sense but it’s how I’ve come to operate on a daily basis. It’s more or less an obsession that has taken over my life but in many ways this obsession does not deserve any negative connotation.


Where Steve and Billy sometimes fight, sometimes make out, and sometimes battle monsters from other dimensions together.

A quick doodle that turned into a bigger doodle of these boys who have taken over my life.

on redbubble ///// commission info


Requests: “i love your writing so much and im so happy youre doing bucky now lmao could you possibly do a one shot where the reader and him are arguing and it ends in fluff?” (Credits to gif owners!)

“That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth! Please tell me you’re kidding?!” Y/N pleaded but the look in Bucky’s eyes told her he wasn’t joking. That if it came down to it, Bucky would get killed for her. He would just leave her without a second thought, just to save her. He had been through too much, and arguing made Y/N feel like it would make him unstable.

But Bucky wasn’t giving in. He kept thinking he said nothing wrong. In both of their cases, they were lacking the communication. Neither of them budging. “Look, hun all I’m saying is that if an enemy has a gun pointed to your head I’d offer myself before they took your life! What is so wrong with that?!” Y/N folded her arms across her chest. “Don’t look at me like that.” Bucky warned when she narrowed her eyes at him.

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Man I had this dream that would make for an awesome short story.

Basically, I was this girl with chronic health problems who frequently traveled through the Seattle Airport (read: it’s me) who ends up getting incredibly ill on a plane and throws up while waiting for a shuttle to her hotel. While there, a super sketchy demon/fae spirit approaches her, saying “Hey, I’d be willing to do some bargain organ transplants for you. Give you a new stomach, y’know. Or a new working pair of lungs. I just want the old ones in return! How about it, kid?”

For some reason this girl does not go “what the fuck, no” and instead accepts the demon’s offer, to which she climbs in a shuttle with her and things fade to black.

Later, she wakes up on her flight to somewhere else, and she feels awesome - like all of those stomach problems she was having before? Gone! But as she’s looking around, she notices something… is weird.

She can see things she never saw before.

The really fat guy sitting next to her? He’s a big, bulky troll. The stewardess? She’s some kind of elf creature. And there are just little pixies and things flying around, and sometimes when the plane shakes, it’s actually the tailwind from a giant winged serpent causing turbulence and the girl is like, “Okay, what the fuck.”

“Either I did some super weird drugs last night, or I really met a demon and her weird organ operation screwed me up.”

So anyway, this girl goes through a couple of days of this new life, just experiencing all of these bizarre sights, and then decides she really needs an explanation for this (yahoo answers really isn’t helping here) and goes back to Seattle in search of the demon. Somehow, she ends up finding her again, and is like… “Dude what the hell is going on with me”

And the demon is like, “Let’s get dinner and talk.”

Over a pretty nice meal, the demon explains this is a side effect of the transplant - she took the girl’s shitty human stomach and replaced it with a dope magical counterpart, like from a hippogriff or something. They work great, but it means she now is ‘part magic’, and even though she can’t really do magic or anything now, she can see everything that was hidden to her before. The demon also says, “Well, if you can’t deal with it, I’ll put your real stomach back in… for a price.” With the assumption that this’ll make everything fine and dandy again, and life will go back to normal.

the girl is like, “pffffttt why the heck would I want my dumb stomach back? THIS IS SO COOL.” and the demon is surprised because most people she’s tried this on actually accept, because they can’t handle being able to see things none of their friends and family can see, but in the age of YA Fiction, things like this? well, they’re normal to the girl, and she likes feeling healthy for the first time in her life.

The demon and the girl have an excellent dinner, and she goes back home pretty happy about things.

A few months later, she’s back in Seattle for business, and after her meeting is done… on a whim, she goes back and finds the demon. She’s like, “hey, wanna have dinner?” and the demon is like “????? uhhh, sure?????????? i. i guess i could?”

During this dinner, the demon reveals that her business works no matter what happens - even if she can’t extort stupid amounts of money from people who want to be non-magic again, she can still make buckets of cash by selling human organs on the black market, even defective ones. The girl is like, “awesome, want my lungs? i have asthma and it sucks.”

“well, okay” the demon says. “we can do that. you’ll see more stuff though… is that cool with you?”

“i mean… you’ll make me pay stupid amounts of money to get them back if i don’t, right?”

“touche,” says the demon, and she takes her in a cab to go to her weird organ farming lab.

This happens time after time, every time the girl is in Seattle. She sells organ after organ - getting her uterus removed, getting her kidneys replaced, hell… even the tubing, like the esophagus and the intestines. not all of it needs to be replaced, but the new stuff is so much better, and each time she gives one up, she has a nice dinner with the demon. hell, later on, sometimes they go out and do stuff. A movie, a concert. “You’re such a good client,” the demon says. “I might as well. However, the number of organs the girl can give up gets smaller and smaller, until it’s just the brain (which the demon says she won’t take, for ethical reasons…) and the girl’s heart.

She’s in Seattle this last time, and meets up with the demon in their usual place. 

“hey,” the demon says. “so, ready to go through with it?”

and for the first time… the girl hesitates.

It’s not because she minds losing her heart, or because she’s getting weirded out by all this. It’s not even that she is worried about the danger, though the demon does warn her that this is a more dangerous procedure - she just… quietly admits, over a bottle of wine, that this is the last organ, right? So after this… the demon won’t have any need for her anymore. There won’t be any more dinners, any more movies, any more outings before she’s taken to a small room and a procedure is done to change her life just a bit more. “I won’t see you again probably, because there’s nothing more for me to sell you, so I was thinking, maybe I could - I could… just… give you my heart instead?”

“And when I’m in town, we could go on… dates?”

the demon stares for her for a long, long time, kind of dumbstruck by the very idea of this. but she looks at her hands, and then the girl’s hands, and after thinking for a moment, she reaches across the candlelit table and takes them.

“okay,” the demon says, “but let’s not actually cut it out of you. that’s a bit weird, even for me.”