i worked like 2 hours on this reblog it even if you hate her


You see, we kind of have gotten the hang of the fact that reposting art is not a-okay, but now I want to make it clear, that, at least as far as my writing is concerned, reposting isn’t okay either. I DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES ALLOW MY WORK TO BE SCREENSHOTTED AND POSTED ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT MY KNOWLEDGE OR, GOD FORBID, EVEN WITHOUT CREDIT.

Why am I writing this you ask? @hazyxthoughts Has pointed it out to me that my work, as well as her and the work of many other Tumblr blogs (I am not tagging them because I do not know how they feel about this), is being reposted on Instagram. Not by one account, but many different accounts. It is done often without credit and probably always without the author’s knowledge. 

You want to screenshot my chats and headcanons, fine. I don’t love it, but fine, as long as you CREDIT ME. And by me, I mean credit goes directly to this blog right here. ‘Credit to the original author’ does NOT make the cut. It is extremely disheartening to see your posts getting thousands of likes and hundreds of comments on other sites (without you even knowing about it and without people knowing who even made the posts in the first place).

When it comes to my WRITING, meaning actual drabbles, and ficlets, and stuff that I pour my heart into, REPOSTING IS NOT PERMITTED. N-O-T PER-MI-TTED. If you really want to do it, you must ask and if I say no, it’s a no.

I hate to do this, I really do, but it is time we started acting like writers too, as well as artists, have rights to their own works and have the right to monitor where and how their work is being posted. Because sometimes a drabble that takes you 2 minutes to read, takes me 2 hours to write and I have the right to say that it is not okay for someone else to get followers and likes and recognition for the work that I did.

Why do I need recognition? Because I love seeing what you like, I love seeing your comments, your personal inserts, your own expansions of my universe. I love reading that something I wrote meant something to you too, I love that I made you laugh and smile and even cry. In short, I love that I have a connection to you, my followers, my fellow Tumblerians (that is a word now), and I feel like someone reposting my stuff makes it impersonal and ‘not mine’ anymore.

Feel free to reblog this and add whatever you want to it. I am open for discussion on this topic as I am still not entirely sure how I feel about all of this except that it makes me feel uncomfortable and disheartened.

anonymous asked:

Ok, so like if they had done an actual cap 3 instead of cw where sam and steve went after bucky and you go to write how that would go down, how would you have had the reunion/recovery go? do you think bucky would' want to be found?

I’m on mobile so I’ll have to format this later and put a read more in, but here’s what I would have wanted. Again, it’s long, I’ve thought about this at length.

We would have seen Steve and Sam, probably in Sam’s apartment reading and rereading files, crossing out leads, there’s a map with locations marked and also crossed out, Sam’s on the phone about another possible lead. Steve looks kinda defeated, it’s been 2 years and still he feels like they’re no closer than they were in 2014. Sam hangs up the phone, sits down next to Steve and says something like “Hey man, when he wants to be found then we’ll find him, and I got a pretty promising lead in Romania that says tin man is ready.” And Steve’s all “Sam, you gotta stop calling him tin man” - but he’s already collecting stuff to get ready to leave. And Sam’s close behind him like “Fine, how’s Robocop? Terminator? Man with the Midas touch?” “His arm isn’t gold Sam, can we go?”

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Mystic Messenger : Day 7 ~ V Walkthrough (FULL ANSWERS)

I worked all alone - I cheked each answers ~ Please be considerate.

Like, reblog, or do nothing, but please don’t copy/paste it and claim it as your own… I am on my own and spent a lot of time to do this.

If you are on phone, please setting the page to be seen in the computer version! On the phone, the answers are sometimes unaligned and it can confuse you…

In order to not bother and annoy my followers who don’t play this game by this looong post, I’ll put a seperate line. Click to see.

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Sunny Days-chapter 15

Sunny Days Masterlist

Summary- Sunny thinks about her life at the Sanctuary and comes to a decision.

Warnings- little bit of angst, fluff, and smut.

Word Count- 3.2k

Author’s Note- This should have been a lot longer but I decided to cut the chapter in half to make it more manageable for me. Editing anything over 4k in daunting for me. And this way, you get it faster. Tag list will be at the bottom.

As always, please reblog and/or leave a comment if you like it. Thanks!

Originally posted by luke-vaughn

One week. Seven whole days. Sunny had been good as long as she could. Movies, books, nothing could hold her attention. She was going insane as she began to pace the room.

Her entire existence was now tied to Negan. Her life only had meaning when he was present and that was only a few hours in the evening most days. She could feel herself slip into the familiar cycle of boredom and loneliness every time he walked out the door after breakfast, her heart sinking as she watched him. Desolate and despondent she waited for him to return, like a puppy waiting for his boy to get home from school.

Ugh. I’m so bored. You thought being a princess sounded pretty good two weeks ago. Well, yeah….I just didn’t know I was going to be the one locked in a tower. Now I’m begging for a chance to be Cinderella or Snow White. I would totally take some dwarves to clean up after and civilize. Or some woodland creatures. Maybe just a puppy. Do those even still exist? Oh my god, I may never see a puppy again in my life time. No more cat videos either. Damnit.

Sunny had been raised to be productive. There had always been work to do at home, but here she had nothing. Nothing to do. Nothing to keep her mind occupied. Nothing to challenge her. Nothing but Negan. She hated feeling lazy and dependent.

She slowly opened the door and peeked out, tip toeing into Negan’s office which was once again open to her. She still hadn’t managed to earn back her clothes. She’d grown accustomed to her own nudity in the last week. She had to admit that she loved the feel of her skin against Negan’s rough pants and leather jacket as she wrapped herself around him when he came home in the evenings. But she needed something to touch her. Something of his. She grabbed one of his white shirts from his closet and pulled it over her head. She took a deep breath, inhaling his scent giving her a sense of calm in her mind and arousal in her body. How did he manage to have such an effect on her when he wasn’t even here? She had managed to be alone for 2 years without cracking up. Why was this so different?

Her mind started wandering towards Negan’s declaration from the night she ran. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to say it back yet, not knowing if it were true. Thankfully, he hadn’t repeated those sentiments. She should love him, right? He was her husband. Did she love him? Did he really love her? Their relationship looked nothing like her parent’s or any of the adults she had met. But that didn’t necessarily mean theirs was wrong. Did it?

Sunny shook her head, trying to clear the invasive thoughts from her mind. She’d dwelled on it too often this week. She needed a break from her thoughts. She needed someone to talk to. Someone who wasn’t involved and able to smooth talk her or fuck her into complacency. She needed friends.

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Seven Things About Supernatural: 12x11 - “Regarding Dean”

Let me begin with the caveat that I prepared myself for this episode thus: 

Not pictured: the communal emergency ice cream.

In my defense, the wine was for @treefrogie84​, but I did finish the dregs so that she could have, you know, a work night, and I did several shots in rapid succession about 2/3 of the way though the ep.  SO.

  1. Hey, so y’all remember when Dean took a depressing shower in 9x18, and we reblogged it for years because wet Dean is nice to look at?  Yeah, Dean riding a mechanical bull in slo-mo is this year’s shower, and I a-fucking-okay with that.  

    And really, let’s just take a moment to appreciate that a) the bull’s name is Larry, b) Dean was canonically an “amazing” rider, c) so amazing that he also had some kind of sexual experience with an on-duty waitress afterward, d) this all goes down at a place called The Pickle Jack Shack, and e) and that montage ends in Dean falling back on the bull, sensually – as if spent – to the words “my son you’ll be a man.”

    Because you guys, that right there?  That thing where Dean is totally unapologetic about either experience, and is not put off by Sam pointing out that the bull’s name is Larry and then not being like, “OKAY, BUT FOCUS ON THE CHICK” is possibly the queerest thing that has crossed my screen in the last 48 hours.  If you’re not reading dean as bi/pan/queer – and probably a versatile power bottom – I am not sure what I can do to convince you at this point.
  2. I think a lot of us went into this episode expecting the memory loss Dean experiences to be chronological, when really it was multiple waves of degradation.  It starts with a period of unconsciousness and a blackout of the night before, and then progresses from simple forgetting and difficulty with basic things into increasing helplessness and innocence.  

    What’s interesting is that Dean himself never really goes away.  He loses his sophistication and a lot of his affect, becoming more and more innocent as he goes, but his moral compass and drive to help others never disappears.  There are things that are in Dean’s nature that are shaped by nurture, but they’re always there.  

    He’s silly.  He loves what he loves.  He does not like being a killer.  He does not like arguments in which the ends are supposed to justify ugly means.  Even when he is losing everything up to and including his name, these things are true.  

    (Incidentally, the mirror scene is where I started drinking in earnest.)
  3. Ooh, this is an interesting ep for Watching While Pagan.  

    - The glyph Gideon (whose family appears to be Irish based on their surname, though given names are a bit wonky) uses is ogam.  Ogam is an Irish alphabet developed in either just before or right around the time of Christianization in Ireland.  The alphabet was later popularized by the Welsh “Druid Revival,” which was separated by centuries from actual druids in the sense of the priestly/scholarly class among ancient Celtic language speaking peoples.  The “language of trees” stuff is also a late invention by Robert Graves; most ogam are not named for trees or associated with them necessarily in older lore.

    - The characters of the glyph written strangely in the sense that it’s got diagonal feda on two axes, while the ogam alphabet only has diagonals going in one direction.  It doesn’t make sense for the reversed diagonals to be read alone – they’re the same fid! – and vertical ogam is traditionally read bottom to top.  

    - Ignoring orientation issues, the characters are (from bottom to top) MUIN - neck, trick; GORT - field, garden, MUIN (again); and NGETAL - wound, charm.  From right to left, IPHIN - sweetness, and UILLEND - elbow.  As a collection of things, it’s a reasonably coherent charm because it twists/bends, works with the physician’s skill, ruins the garden with tricks, etc.

    - Also, “ancient Druid” is not a language, and Celts were not a homogenous group but a broadly dispersed collection of cultures and peoples who shared a language group.  SO.
  4. I have not always been a fan of Rowena – her early arc was uncomfortably familiar to me in bad ways – but I really loved her in this episode.  

    In terms of the present she’s learning to adapt and thrive on her own terms, fnding new and satisfying ways to make her way – including, apparently, playing high-stakes poker in the most atmospheric server closet ever – but we’re also getting more glimpses of her as a whole person with a history.  

    More and more we’re seeing Rowena as someone who has survived as an underdog, who has been rejected over and over because she wasn’t what other witches considered worthy.  She’s still not the greatest of witches – Catriona Loughlin immobilizes her relatively easily – but she’s still got significant skill, especially if she’s got good documentation at hand.  She’s also got some regrets, and a grudging respect for the Winchesters’ work and world view. 

    I’m tempted to say that Rowena is becoming Sam’s Crowley in the sense that she’s the one he hates to need when things are happening that he lacks the esoteric chops to handle.  Also, like Crowley, she’s got the measure of the boys well enough to leave Dean a series of progressively more hilarious notes in the Impala.  

    Also, she gives her poppets googly eyes.  GOOGLY EYES.  That alone is Witch Goals, frankly.  
  5. Lots of really excellent brother moments, mostly at Dean’s expense. Sam takes him to task and gives him shit for what looks like a deeply irresponsible night, is amused/smug/teases him about not remembering “blowing off steam” with Elka, etc.  The Post-Its are also great, because they’re this simple gesture that highlights Sam doing his best to be helpful and protective.  Dean may win, though, simply for having the sheer gall to prank Sam with Rowena’s help.

    Also, did anyone else get the impression that Dean remembered his ordeal afterward?  Because the BM scene at the end made it seem to me that he did, or at least had some strong impressions of what happened.   
  6. Okay, but can the record reflect that this episode put Jared’s supports for waffles over pancakes into Dean’s mouth?  

    (From Houscon 2016 - video starts at 13:34)

    Audience Member: “PANCAKES OR WAFFLES?”
    Jensen: “Pancakes or waffles?  Again, solid question.  I’m gonna go flapjacks.”
    Jared: “And true to form, I’m gonna go waffles.  You get more syrup to surface ratio on the waffles.”
    Jensen: “This is why pancakes: waffles catch the syrup.  The syrup spills off of pancakes and onto my bacon.  ‘Cause maple bacon?  Come on!”
    Jared: “Bacon wasn’t a part of this conversation, Jensen!”
    Jensen: “It is now!  And you know it’s always a part of the conversation.  Bacon’s never off-limits.”
    Jared: “Waffles – waffles are like several little bowls –” 
    Jensen: “This is not a debate!”  
    Jared: “You can dip your bacon in the waff–” 
    Jensen: “I just said that maple syrup blends with the bacon.”
    Jared: “I can use the bowl of syrup to pick up the bacon.”
    Jensen: “I hate your face.”  

    Meredith Glynn, we salute you. 
  7. If you want to do yourself significant personal injury, go listen to and/or read the lyrics to “Broomstick Cowboy” and think about Dean Winchester.  

Bonus Thing: KUMA.  KUUUUMA.

Bonus Thing #2: So are we entering tonight’s roofies-that-were-not-roofies into the litany of ways in which the show has talked about sexual assault with men as the targets?  It’s ambiguous – it’s a pretext, not reality – but as the conversation continues between Sam and Elka, you see her shift from ha-ha, these guys are dicks to oh shit, oh shit, this guy got hurt and I maybe hurt him too.  That was…uncomfortably real. 

Bonus Thing #3: Dean Winchester will man the flashlight.  Good job, Dean. 

A Writer’s PSA

Firstly: I just saw an interesting post made by @caplanbuckybarnes (who I can’t tag, but that’s okay), that inspired both anger and relief in me at once. I was compelled to type out this PSA.

Secondly: I am tagging everyone who has asked to be tagged in The Irrelevance of Napoli SO YOU CAN SEE HOW GODDAMN AWESOME THEY ARE BEFORE I START THIS. 

@thecrownedrose @persephone-is-here-omg @find-me-here2 @captainamerotica @redgillan @angryschnauzer @ursulaismymiddlename @rebelslicious @kittykitty-mewmeww @erisjade @siren-kitten-his @buckyappreciationsociety @kozmicrock @aingealcethlenn @rachelle-on-the-run @thewinterswimmer @vaisabu @inside-lizzys-head @angryschnauzer @melconnor2007 

Thirdly: I am doing this more for the sake of my upcoming fic, Cherchez la Femme, which I have been working on for MONTHS–probably since Septemberish–than I am for Napoli. Also doing this for the sake of other authors who may feel this way, but don’t want to say anything for fear of making people mad. I personally am tired of dealing with my own anxiety about this subject, so I’m getting this off my chest. 


 I am exceedingly frustrated by the majority of attitudes (or non attitudes) I see towards anything that is not a one-shot on here. ESPECIALLY if it’s smut.

I like smut. I love smut. I’ve read some really good smut on here. But… that’s not all I’ve read on here. When I first got on Tumblr, I found some really unique and interesting fics, and I got very invested in them. But lately, the majority of what I’ve been seeing on this site is the same damn thing, over and over and over again. Smut one shots, no plot, no character development, no nothing. Those fics I was invested in were discontinued (temporarily, I hope) in favor of smut one shots, which, like I said, I don’t mind, but ya know… I also do.

Authors are capable of writing more than smut one shots. 

Authors are capable of writing more than smut one shots. And many of them do write more than smut one shots. But I have seen two (2) of the multi-part fics I follow being seriously reblogged. That’s out of A LOT that I happen to read and like. One of my favorites got put on hiatus because there were no reads on the most recent chapter at the time.

Tumblr, seriously, what is going on? Like, I recognize that we all want to imagine ourselves having sex with some version of Sebastian Stan (ME TOO, I AM NOT EXCLUDING MYSELF FROM THAT GROUP) but some of these people have worked ages, ages on these fics. With well-developed characters and plot and settings and serious issues that are worked through. THESE PEOPLE I READ SHOULD WRITE ORIGINAL CONTENT AND GET PUBLISHED. In my world, they would. Because they are that good.

And yet, they get almost no recognition. And it frustrates me, and scares me, and makes me really, really sad. Some might say, “Tumblr is more (something else) than fanfic for me”–which is fine. Please engage in whatever joy may have brought you to Tumblr. But also remember that for others, it IS about fanfic, and they enjoy doing that just as much as you enjoy doing whatever you do. So hit the like button every once in a while. Read more fics of your favorite characters. Some might say, “I have –something that gives me a shorter attention span–, I can’t remember what happened before this chapter/can’t concentrate enough to get through a whole fic in the time I have”–in which case, you are fine, don’t worry about it, not a big deal. Some of you may say, “Works in progress are annoying, I hate waiting for new parts to come out”–and trust me, I’m right there with you. I’m waiting on a few new parts for fics myself (I’m also waiting for Diana Gabaldon’s next Outlander book, goddammit), but that doesn’t stop me from reading and commenting on the parts that are there! Tell the author that you have something to look forward to until the next part comes out! Also, TELL THE AUTHOR IF YOU ARE WAITING FOR THEM TO COMPLETE IT, or ask to be tagged in the final masterlist! We won’t mind if you do it that way! Some of you may just hate longer fics and there’s nothing anybody can do to change that. In which case, whatever floats your boat.

I’m not getting on anyone in the above paragraph to suddenly change your preferences and start reading fics with more than two parts. What I am saying, though, is if you consume, but don’t comment AND reblog (or at least tag and reblog), or if you don’t consume at all and blatantly ignore what authors are putting out there… come on, guys. We put our heart and souls into this stuff. Some of the stuff we write is taken from real life. Some people don’t have anything but their writing to help them get through what may be a really bad stage. Likes, comments, reblogs–writers need these. We don’t all have to be JK Rowling here, but we do hope to see that someone smiles or laughs, or cries, or feels in some way with our fics. 

One of my friends on here was very sad a couple of days ago because she was getting very few notes on even her one-shots, or reblogs with no comments. She has 700+ followers and a taglist that’s a mile long. It made me sad for her, and I can’t even hug her because she lives far away from me. Readers, you don’t have to comment or reblog every chapter of a fic that’s been written, it’s really okay if you don’t, but let the reader know that you like it and acknowledge the work that’s been done. 

I’m still relatively tiny on here, and I definitely need to follow more blogs, so I will now go looking. But, indulge me for a second: If, when I publish Cherchez, I deem it as not getting enough notes, I will make a goddamn video of myself deleting the thing off my computer and burning the damn notebooks. I started by writing this stuff for me. Napoli ended up being about someone I know who recently died. Cherchez was what I wrote when I was coming out of a breakdown. So yes, I write for myself. But as soon as I put it up here, it becomes yours. You consume it, you feel because of it. So really, guys, read all the smut you want. I know I’m going to. But read more than smut, too.


Someone who is a teeny bit oversmutted

(If you want to, you can check my tags for more info)

I’m Not Really the Best - (Poly!DemoReps x Reader) Part 2

WARNING: Mentions of Polyamourous hate, Blood, Hurt characters, Accidents, Feelings of Neglect, Self-Hatred, Pain, Slight Passive-Aggressiveness.

A/N: I have never expected that people would actually like this tbh. Thank you so much for liking and reblogging the last part. Here is part 2, please do not read if the above warnings trigger you. You can also tell me if you want to be tagged, I’ll be very happy to do it. Enjoy <3 <3 <3

Tags: @robotic-space

“You have your life, I have mine. It’s not my place to tell you who you spend time with. It’s all laid out for you to decide, me, I’m out.”

Laf could not help but repeat the sentence in his head as the three made their way down to comfort (S/O). He followed but slowly making his way down the stairs and stopping at the bottom of the staircase. It reminded him too much of somebody that had somehow said something similar.

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Every few weeks since the nightmare of Trump started have been weeks like this, weeks where the hits just keep coming and you just can barely keep but with all the horror more for my own sanity than anything I just want to expel all the shit that has happen in the last week(ish)

1. Trump goes to war with the FNL and most of professional sports. I don’t follow sports, they hold no interest for me, but I understand and respect that the FNL is like a cultural powerhouse in America. So the idea that a President would attack them is… crazy right, like a thing I never imagined would happen, but it did. Trump and Steve Mnuchin making creepy deeply racist statements that basically the rich white people who own FNL teams should have the right to control what they’re overwhelmingly black players have to say. General creepy neo-fascist flag worship porn, and in the mix the whole BLM message of the kneel got lost in some FNL unity BS as owners tried to co-op it

2. While Trump was busy being racist against black football (and Basketball) players, he was ignoring an island of (AMERICAN) hispanics. It wasn’t till he got called out on it that Trump figured out where Puerto Rico, and stopped there. He got into a Twitter battle with San Juan Mayor Carmen Yulín Cruz who has been working her ass off and has been a total hero through this whole thing. But Trump hates women, and people of color and women of color set him off so victim blaming, implying that we’re not really gonna rebuild Puerto Rico, switching between claiming everything is great and blaming any problems on Puerto Rico (or the fact it’s an island) meanwhile the response is still lagging behind what team Obama did in Haiti in 2010, and seems to only be doing what outside politicians (John McCain, Hillary Clinton) tweet at them days too late

3. Roy fucking Moore happened, Roy Moore is a crazy person totally unqualified for public life that wants to make being gay illegal and put America under biblical law, he’s been impeached from side wide office in Alabama twice now (both times for trying to defy the US Supreme Court) and this asshole won the Senate Primary in Alabama. Alabama being Alabama Moore is the odds on favorite to become a US Senator 

4. Health and Human Services Secretary Tom Prince spent over 400,000 dollars for domestic flights on private jets, including a $25,000 flight from DC to Philadelphia….. which is 2 hours away by car from DC…. Prince also used military transport for his overseas travel. Which is something that is reserved as a rule for people who need 24/7 secure communications with the President, needless to say the HHS Secretary isn’t one of those people. So Price’s transport in 8 months was close to a million dollars. At the same time Prince has been busily telling everyone how we need DEEP cuts to medicaid because there just isn’t enough money. All this is bad enough, but it seems MANY people on team Trump have been using private jets on government dime. Oh also EPA Administrator Scott Pruitt spent 25,000 dollars to build himself a private sound proof room that no one knows what he’ll use that for since the EPA already had a secure room for reading classified information? oh also he has a $800,000 a year around the clock security detail like the President, which no one else in the cabinet has oh also he likes private jets too. 

5. Catalonia tried to have a referendum on independence. Spanish courts ruled this illegal but that doesn’t really explain why the Spanish government unleashed federal police into the streets of Catalonia. Police broke down the doors of polling stations, dragged people out by their hair, stole ballot boxes, charged crowds of voters swinging batons and firing rubber bullets. By the end of the day over 800 people had been injured by police. Catalonian President Carles Puigdemont said that Catalonia had “won the right to statehood” meanwhile the Spanish government under Mariano Rajoy have gone full 1984 and declared no vote happened at all, and also that their reaction was totally fair, while also refusing to negotiate with the Catalonian government, I don’t know what happens next but it looks scary and set for violence in the coming week.

6. Las Vegas shooting, the new “deadliest shooting in American history” coming 16 months after the last deadliest shooting. as of right now it’s 59 dead and many more hurt, a man with dozens of guns and hundreds of rounds of ammo. The story feels like one we’ve heard before. It’s tiring to be locked into an never ending cycle of mass shooter gun violence, where the reaction to even talking about guns is to be violently shut down by people, I have no doubt the very fact I listed this will get this post hate reblogged at some point. Trump’s statement on the shooting said nothing about guns, shocker. I don’t think it’s really controversial to say that countries with fewer guns have fewer gun deaths, you get fewer guns through gun control, logical. There’s a river of blood from guns in America, but we don’t seem to give a fuck. That’s just depressing, it’s depressing to see stuff like this and know that it’ll happen again because we don’t care to stop it. 

Finding Home - Chapter 5 (Sam Drake x Reader)

Tagging: @dragonjedihobbit, @fhujami, @kerripamyupamyu, @unchartedterritoria, @random-aya, @sugardaddysully, @emilyackles, @axolotlqueen, @souls-rain, @aaudialeth, @asadhunter

Thank you for everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on this story! <3

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 6

It was a day ago since the last time Sam ate, so he easily destroyed three slices of pizza. He leaned back in the chair with one of his hands on his stomach. He had an amused look on his face as he watched as you put down your second, half-eaten slice.

“Ugh.” - you said as you put your head in your hands.

“Really? One and a half slice? I’m disappointed.”

“I should’ve ordered a smaller one." 

You felt as something bumped into your leg. You looked down and saw Rocco, looking at you with sad eyes. You narrowed your eyes at him.

"You just ate.”

Then you saw Bonny sat next to him. Sam grinned.

“She’s just a puppy, who needs to eat regularly, so she can grow healthy.” - he repeated your words from earlier.

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Breakfast in Bed

Summary: Bucky sees your laptop open on his bed, so he looks and finds the browser open to tumblr. The top post? Putting a pancake on a girl’s head when she’s asleep to keep her warm and safe. Unfortunately for you, Bucky thinks it would be hilarious and decides to try it…

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: none? Fear of being burnt by food? Cuteness overload?

A/N: trying to make a fluffy one-shot since I’m still trying to continue “Scarred, but not Broken” and feel like I’d like some fluffy Bucky (Flucky?) for in the meantime…but I based this idea off of the above post I saw and my friend @bewithme-forevermore and I thought it would make an adorable one shot

Word Count: 2, 367

**Bucky’s POV**

You’d left in a hurry that morning, as per usual, since you had chosen to stay in bed with him rather than get up when your alarm sounded. You always said you hated him as you leapt out of his bed, blaming him for your chronic lateness, but the chaste kiss on your way to the shower was given with a smile, negating the stress you would be feeling over potentially being late. You never were, but you never learnt your lesson either, and any time he told you to just stay at your place, you’d throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck while proclaiming that he was not allowed to suggest such terrible things.

He still couldn’t understand why you’d chosen to love him, but he was forever grateful for that day two years ago when Steve had dragged him out to the bar and pushed him to talk to you. He was sure you would’ve turned and run away, him being the very notable Winter Soldier, but you’d smiled at him almost instantly and talked to him about everything: from kittens, to your studies, to world events and the fanfics you were reading on this thing called Tumblr. After that night, he was smitten, and he’d taken you out to dinner the next night where you had talked for hours about your lives and walked around the city until early morning before you’d told him you had class early and should head home.

Being the gentleman he was, he walked you to your door and made sure you got inside before he headed back to the tower himself, not caring that it was early morning or that he had a long walk ahead of him. He didn’t want to try and catch a taxi, nor did he feel like calling Steve to come and get him, he wanted to revel in the high of the night for as long as possible, because now fear began to creep in that you’d change your mind once you remembered who he was. The joy in your face would turn to fear, you’d forget Bucky and just see the Winter Soldier. No. He told himself that if you were scared of him then you wouldn’t of been alone with him for so long, you would’ve been too scared to see him and be close to him. You would’ve run the other way as soon as he stood next to you at the bar. He owed it to himself to not let his doubt creep in, and he decided to have faith that he would see you again.

That was two years ago, and now you were hardly apart. He’d met your family, spent holidays with you, and you never ceased to amaze him every day with your random facts and passion for your TV shows and books, and the fandoms that came with them. He was in love, and he wouldn’t have it any other way, not even being the Winter Soldier could ruin this.

As you’d run down to the tower’s elevator this morning, clutching your shoes in one hand with your travel mug filled with the usual tea, you’d yelled out a goodbye and shot a smile over your shoulder at him as he leaned against his bedroom door frame to wave you off. You’d declined his offers to drive you himself, saying that you wanted to maintain your independence since you practically lived with him when he wasn’t away on missions, but he just wanted to spend more time with you. Instead, he acquiesced knowing that sleeping next to you, night after night, was enough.

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Weekly Spotlight #2 - @angryschnauzer

So when I had the idea for these, I had no clue it would morph into what it has, and I’m sure I still have a few surprises ahead of me. But I sincerely look forward to chatting with each nominee and getting to know them, and I hope this spreads some wonderful positivity and love!

This week I got to know the lovely Simone @angryschnauzer. She’s a lovely blogger that writes for the Marvel fandom and their respective actors. She’s a sweetie and her blog is lovely! So without further ado…

Alright, first question… name, age, and where are you from?

angryschnauzer: Simone, I’m 36 at the moment though 37 is rapidly approaching in August! I’m from a town called Redhill which is just south of London in England.

Erin: So many Brits in the first 7 weeks of interviews! I love it!

And what led you to create your blog?

Simone: A fledgling mini obsession with Tom Hiddleston that blossomed thoroughly once I signed my soul up to this website!

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I bet you didn’t think that by “incredibly soon” I meant about a day later, huh? Truth be told I felt kinda bad about the previous chapter because it was mostly just a filler chapter to speed the plot along and show some time passing, but this one and the next couple chapters deliver some seriously flirty vibes and drama (at least in my opinion) and the words just kept coming so I decided to seize the opportunity and post this ASAP.

I also found this chapter rather cathartic to write because I am still incorporating a lot of myself and my experiences into Rae and the story overall, so I really hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This chapter is at about 2,994 words, which is right on track with my goal of making each mini-fic 3,000 words or less!

Wanna get caught up on the updates leading up to this one? Look no further!

Feel free to let me know if you would like to be added/removed from the tagged list and I’ll be happy to oblige! As always: each and every one of you that read my writing, like, reply, reblog, etc. are amazing people and inspire me to keep writing! :)

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Arguments and sandwiches (Bughead fanfic)

Thanks so much to everyone who reblogged/

Hope you like it!💕🦋🐳
Jughead POV

Jughead poured himself a glass of wine and looked out of the window. Panic was starting to hit him. Where is she? he thought desperately. Jughead sat down on the sofa and circled the edge of his glass with his fingertip. He put his head back on the soft cushion behind him and tried to remember what had happened.

~2 hours earlier~

“Are you coming?” Betty repeated. Jughead looked up from his computer screen, his eyebrows raised. Betty tapped her foot on the stone floor beneath her, hands on her hips and her blue eyes narrowed. Jughead knew she was starting to get fed up with him but he had just gotten to the turning point in his book and he was worried that he wasn’t going to remember how he wanted it to end if he didn’t finish the chapter.

“To the dinner”, Betty said, her voice frosty. Jughead tried to hide the dismay on his face but failed, miserably.

“Am I expected to come?” he whined. He hated it when he made that voice but he was still pretty terrified of Alice Cooper and the prospect of having dinner with her made his stomach flip.

“Considering you are my fiancé, I would say yes”, she replied sternly as she grabbed a mop and started to clean. Jughead instantly felt bad, he couldn’t let her do the housework as she was nearly seven months pregnant. Jughead stood up quickly and went over to his soon to be wife, placing his hands on the mop.

“Here, let me do it”, he said. Betty once again narrowed her blue eyes at him. God, I hope our child has her eyes, Jughead thought. And of course his little daydream meant he yet again had missed what Betty had said.

“What is it today with you and not listening to me?” she asked angrily. Jughead let go of the mop, slightly worried for his life.

“Sorry”, Jughead said lamely. This seemed to anger her further. Mind you, it was understandable as her hormones had started kicking in when she had hit around six months pregnant mark. Jughead would often find her crying, laughing or shouting at the television or a book she had started to read.

“Fine I will just go by myself”, she whispered angrily. Jughead instantly felt awful.

“Listen it’s fine-” he started by Betty was already grabbing her coat and heading towards the door.

“Betty please”, Jughead called running after her as she started to walk towards her mothers house. It wasn’t far as Betty and Jughead had decided to stay in Riverdale after a long debate about it. Jughead had wanted to move as apart from Archie and Veronica there wasn’t much in the town for him. His father was drinking less and had quit smoking but he still went to the Serpents bar even after they had told him that Betty was pregnant. Betty on the other hand wanted to stay as she wanted to be near her friends and family. Plus she had applied to work at the school so it made more sense not to move.

“Come on Betts”, Jughead said running to catch up with her. She was surprisingly fast for a pregnant woman. At any other time Jughead would have made this joke however he didn’t think it was exactly a good time at that precise moment.

“You clearly don’t want to have anything to do with MY family”, Betty seethed as she brushed his hand away. Jughead shook his head.

“That’s not true I-” he began but Betty cut him off.

“Just go home Jughead”, she said sounding very tired. And with that, she left him standing on the pavement watching after her.

~Back to the present~

Jughead tried dialling her phone again and got no answer. He thought about ringing Betty’s mum however he decided against that stomach churning idea. He didn’t hate the Coopers it was just that they pretty much hated him. Of course they had become nicer to him over the years but he couldn’t help but notice Alice Coopers glares at him. He knew they thought she was far to good for him and he agreed with them. But it bugged him that even after proposing and being the father of the child Betty was carrying that they couldn’t accept him into the family.

Betty POV

Betty tucked into the roast dinner that he mother had made. It was delicious and she was pretty hungry so within minutes she was topping up her plate, much to the disapproval of her mother.

“Careful Betty”, her mother said eating as slowly as a dying snail. Betty had to bite her tongue not to say anything.

“Where’s Polly?” Betty asked. Alice Cooper sighed at her other daughters name.

“Out leaving me with Emily and Hugo”, her mother complained. The topic then went to how she was feeling and then finally to the missing person next to her at the table.

“So, where is he?” Alice asked. Betty took a long sip of water.

“Busy”, Betty replied. Alice raised an eyebrow.

“Too busy to come and eat the food that I prepared?” she replied, her tone icy.

“Mum, please leave it”, Betty said. Alice Cooper shook her head.

“Don’t be too hard on him Betty, he is clearly trying very hard to please everyone and I’m sure he will be a good father”, her mother said unexpectedly. Betty practically gagged on her food in shock.

“Did you just-” Betty started but she was cut off.

“Don’t make me repeat it, now go home and get some rest”, she replied sternly. Betty nodded and left the house, her heart slightly hammering in her chest. She walked home thinking about all the sweet things Jughead had down since she had told him that she was expecting their baby. For instance, the time he had made her the most delicious dinner just to say thank-you for carrying his child. And the time he had sat up with her all night when she was being sick. Another time when he was so understanding when she vomited in his precious beanie (which she washed three times so that he could wear it again) Betty felt bad, she knew he was partially petrified of her mother and she couldn’t blame him. Betty had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed that she had arrived home. The curtains were drawn but she could see that Jughead was in the living room. Luckily she had brought her keys so she didn’t have to embarrass herself by knocking on the door. Betty carefully opened the door and walked in quietly just in case he was asleep on the sofa. Her phone was on the side and she picked it up. The screen flashed on and she read in amazement the amount of miscalled she had. 52. All of them from her fiancé. Betty wanted to kick herself, she felt so cruel and stupid. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the living room.

Jughead POV

Jughead was trying hard to watch the television but he was far too worried about Betty. He was about to ring her yet again when she walked into their living room, her blue eyes shining. Jughead sprang off the sofa, his hands slightly shaking.

“Oh Juggie, I’m so sorry”, she whispered and he went over to her. She took his hands and pulled him into a tight embrace. She smelt of vanilla and roast dinner making his stomach rumble. Jughead suddenly realised that he hadn’t actually had any dinner.

“I’m sorry too Betts, I should have come with you”, Jughead said into her shoulder. He let his hands trail down her back until they came to her bump where the baby, his baby was. Her stomach was swollen and had grown remarkably. Betty sighed as he ever so gently massaged her stomach relieving all the tension out of her system. Betty cupped his head in her hands and kissed him softly. He adored it when she kissed him. Suddenly, his cursed stomach rumbled loudly interrupting their kiss.

“Hungry?” Betty enquired making him grin.

“You bet”, he replied. Betty shook her head.

“You’re always hungry Juggie”, she said fondly, walking over to the fridge and getting some bread out to make him a sandwich.

“Betts you don’t need to, get some rest”, he instructed. Betty turned to him and rolled her sparkling eyes.

“Jug I’m not some idiot, just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I can’t make my fiancé a sandwich”, Betty told him. Jughead shook his head but he was grateful as Betty’s sandwiches were to die for.

“Here you go”, she said. Jughead and Betty sat down at the table and began discussing baby names…
Hope you guys liked it!

I’m happy for any suggestions :)❤️

Splitting Hairs (Part 2 to Questionable Intentions)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: So, I guess this is a part two to my first fic. I just really enjoyed it and you guys did too so YAY! I might do a part 3 I dunno and I only say this is a part two because I imagine this being the same reader as before. You guys even get a gif this time cause I was bored

Part One: Questionable Intentions

Originally posted by aomiarmster

You had been visiting more and more since Thor had first introduced you to the other Avengers. You enjoyed all of their company, but you really enjoyed the time you spent, alone, with Loki. You had grown fond of the god and would even dare to say that he felt the same about you. One day while you were “escaping” the company of Earth’s mightiest heroes, you wandered down a hall and stumbled into Loki’s room. Inviting yourself in, you soon realized Loki wasn’t there. Even though you knew you shouldn’t you could never pass up a chance to explore an empty room. Making quick use of your time alone, you inspected every inch of his room without going through anything. Just as you were about to start moving everything to the right about 2 inches the trickster found you.

“What are you doing?” he eyed you suspiciously

“Nothing,” you said feigning innocence

Loki grinned “you don’t look like you’re doing nothing,” he said, “but since I really don’t care I’m not going to pry.” He made his way to his bed and sat down. You continued to look around his room, asking him random questions like you always had, focusing more on his bookshelves and the small decorations and books that filled them.

“Can I mess with your hair?” you asked making your way to Loki’s bed to sit next to him.

“I’d prefer you didn’t” he replies his nose in a book like always

“Come on, please,” you said putting on your best begging puppy face

“You know that isn’t going to work on me” he replied not even needing to look at you to know that your eyes resembled a doe’s.

“Please,” you whined. Loki sighed in response and you took it as a yes, moving to sit behind him. You ran your fingers through his hair combing it out a bit before beginning to separate it into sections and starting to braid it. Your tongue poked out of your mouth. Your idea wasn’t working so you plopped down onto the bed next to Loki opening up Pinterest on your phone and flicking through images.

“Loki” you whined

“Yes,” he said slightly irritated by your antics.

“I need help” you continued to whine

“With what?” Loki questioned, glancing at you  

“Your hair,” you said still flipping through pictures, eliminating the ones you didn’t like

“I don’t even want you to do my hair, Y/n, why would I help you pick something out” Loki pointed out

“Cause you love me” you joked

“Do I? I wasn’t aware” Loki said hiding his slight surprise at your words.

“Just a little” you replied “Not like love, love like friend, love. You get me?”

“Whatever you say”

You went back to your pictures and when you had narrowed it down to a few options you shoved your phone in his face.

“This one?” you said as an image of a girl with three messy buns on the back of her head appeared on your phone screen.

“No. If you even attempt to do that I will cut your hands off.” his eyes darkened and it was the first time you had actually been scared of the trickster in a long time.

“Okay… What about this one?” this time the picture was a simple ponytail with a section braided

“If you’re going to do my hair you’re going to do something more extravagant than that” Loki said a smirk playing on his lips

“That leave us with this” you flipped to a picture of a braided bun. You weren’t even sure if Loki had enough hair for this to work you just thought the style looked cool.

“That’ll do” Loki turned his attention away from your phone and focused on the mirror across the room and watched you as you began to work. He smiled as your face contorted into a mask of confusion for a few moments before you started working, following the pictures. After a few minutes, you huffed in frustration.

“It can’t be that hard,” Loki said his smile still present

“Shut up I’m working” you replied as your brows furrowed. You were determined to get this look right, knowing Loki picked it because he thought you couldn’t do it. Loki made a move to push your hands away from hair and tried to do the style himself. He didn’t get very far before you slapped his hands out of the way and continued working.

“This is my job not yours, it’s no fun if you do it for me,” you said your voice stern but the god wasn’t giving up. Finally after a lot of hand smacking and almost 2 hours of work you got his hair done. It wasn’t like the picture at all, in fact, you gave up a few minutes ago and settled for a simple man bun. You had to admit it didn’t look half bad.

“That doesn’t look like the picture at all,” Loki said

“Oh shut it. I know you picked that style ‘cause it was the hardest out of the three,” you grumbled, pouting.

“Now, now why would I do that,” he said a smirk on his face

“‘Cause you hate me” you continued to pout.

“I do not” he replied appalled by your accusation

“Then you should let me cut your hair if you don’t mind,” You said knowing you were pushing your limits.

“Would you mind if I cut yours?” Loki said his voice rising slightly as you found a pair of scissors

“I’d probably kill you if you did that.” you took a section of Loki’s hair between your fingers mimicking what you’d seen your hairdressers do without cutting his hair. He quickly moved his head so his hair was out of reach just as you closed the scissors making a harsh snipping noise.

“Oh fuck,” you said your face turning pale

“What,” Loki said “WHAT DID YOU DO”

“I didn’t do anything,” you said hurriedly “you’re the one that moved. If you wouldn’t have moved you wouldn’t be missing about 2 inches of hair in one spot”  

“WHAT” Loki roared quickly becoming panicked as you sat behind him and laughed, “YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?”

“I find it hilarious,” You said a huge smile plastered on your face

“Y/n, darling, nitwit,” he said

“Loki, sweetheart, asshole,” you said back “Your hair is fine, I swear, it was a joke ”Oh, I knew that…I was just playing along” Loki replied his face turning back to its normal color as he quickly tried to play off his panic.

“Sure you did,” you said “totally didn’t get tricked by a simple mortal girl like me”

“Definitely not” Loki confirmed. You couldn’t wait to tell Thor and the others about this.


A/N: Thank you all so much for reading if you have any ideas or requests I’ll take them. Leaning towards a part three but who knows if I’ll ever get around to posting it.

Thanks again to @21waywardheathens and @firewolfkelly also tagging @casameanlock (She’s awesome check out her stuff) and @dedicatedbff(Who is also awesome) -G

Top Ten Reasons Servers Hate Teenagers/ Young Adults

Hello young-lings
I would like to take this opportunity to teach you a very valuable life lesson.
When you and your other young teenage/ young adult friends come out for a meal at a restaurant, here is a list of things you DONT do so we don’t end up hating you like usual….

1. Don’t ask me how much every little thing is on the menu. There are prices next to it for a reason.

2. Don’t try and be slick and try to get alcohol when you clearly look 18. We will ID you and don’t get mad when we do, bc it is our job and we could lose it if we got you a damn beer

3. Look at your server when they talk to you. Speak up bc miss mumble I don’t know wtf you’re saying

4. Don’t treat your server like scum. We are human beings just like you. We are working hard for our money to make you guys have a good experience. Some of us only make $5 per hour or LESS!!! That is WAY less than minimum wage.

5. Dine and Dashers: FUCK YOU YOU USELESS PIECES OF SHIT. When you skip out on a check no matter if it $10-$200 we can get in some serious trouble. Possibly even lose our jobs bc of it. Not to mention any hope of a tip we might have “thought” we would receive. So when you ask me for an extra to go bag and you run out without paying bc you think it’s FUNNY, fuck you bc we remember faces and if you come back WE WILL know you and YOU WILL get in serious trouble.

6. Don’t insult my intelligence. Telling me to get another profession instead of serving is infuriating. Especially if this job is paying for my schooling, phone, clothes, car, apartment, and any other needs I may have so I can get another “profession” of my choosing.

8. Campers
When you go out to eat and you plan on sitting there for 4 FUCKING HOURS don’t expect me to go super hard for you. You are taking up a table where 4 other groups of people could’ve came and went and I could’ve made more money. “You don’t have to go home but you have to get the fuck outta here”

8.If for some reason you come on a busy Friday night, chances are your server has more than one table. Sometimes we can have up to 8 (if your good) YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONES IN THE RESTAURANT. When I am at another table getting someone’s order or drinks, DO NOT: snap your fingers at me, yell to get my attention when I’m clearly talking to another table, grab my arm to stop me. DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME. If you need something be polite and just raise your hand and say “excuse me miss?”

9. If for some reason your food is taking a bit longer than expected, don’t blame your server. I am not in the kitchen. I do not make the food. When you ask me where your “3 well done sirloins” are after only being sat for 15 mins, you look like an idiot.
OR: If your food comes out slightly wrong or not cooked enough or overcooked DO NOT yell at me. I do not cook your food! And don’t take it out on my tip when I can control how the kitchen works.

10. “Keep the change”
Let’s say your bill is $100.50 When you hand me $101 and say keep the change (as my only tip) that is not only cheap but very insulting and rude. When you go to a restaurant people usually tip on a scale of percentages. The normal amount to tip is TWENTY PERCENT OF YOUR OVERALL BILL BEFORE COUPONS
So when you spend an average of $100 on food you should tip your server AT LEAST $20. If they were great taking care of you and you felt like they did a good job. If your SERVER sucked then I understand less than that. BUT if you cannot afford to tip your server after he/she busted they’re butt to make sure you have a great experience then FUCK YOU.
**And if you leave your phone number at the table bc you thought your server was cute and you gave him/her a Shitty tip DO NOT expect a text except maybe a fuck you for leaving me $2 on a $120 bill

We all work very hard to make everyone have a good experience. So pleaseeee keep this in mind when you are going out this year ESPECIALLY during the holiday season. And feel free to share this with friends and family bc lord knows some adults can’t grasp this concept either.


Collide part 11

A/N: This is the last chapter! I hope everyone liked it!

This changes between Bucky and Alice’s POV throughout.

Again, swearing but no other warnings really. 

Bucky came to awareness almost immediately, for a couple of gut wrenching moments he couldn’t work out where he was. Who he was.
In a rush, his memories came back up to date.

Clutching his head in pain, he sat up.
“Alice?” Looking around, his heart started to pound when he couldn’t see her. Alice’s side of the bed was messed up though, maybe she had just gotten up a few minutes earlier?
“Alice?” He called again louder this time. Throwing his legs over the side of the bed he spotted the clock that now read 9.10. Only an hour? Why the hell aren’t we still asleep?
Shaking his head to try and clear the fog, he stood up and rushed out of the room.
Looking around he spotted Alice at the sink. For a brief moment he settled, seeing her okay calmed him. His brain caught up with his eyes a second later though and he ran to her when he realised that she wasn’t okay, she was bent over the sink and heaving but nothing was coming up.
Once he reached her, he started rubbing her back.
Alice was shaking like a leaf and rubbing her fist over her heart, with bright eyes she looked up at him and she stumbled back “I-I’m sick Bucky, don’t get too close.”
Alice’s face was deathly pale, her teeth were chattering. Shit! What the hell brought this on?!
Ignoring her, Bucky threw his arm underneath her legs and carried her back, bridal style, to the bed. Placing her on it, he knelt on the floor next to her “What’s happened Alice? Is it because you only slept an hour? Did you dream again?”
Alice gave a hysterical sounding laugh but started to breathe a bit calmer even as she was still shaking and rubbing her heart “N-no, I um…I must have eaten something strange. I think it’s just that…t-the last time I was sick was because…the lab a-and it’s kind of f-freaking me out.”
Bucky was too busy trying to hold back the fury that he felt when she mentioned the lab to notice that Alice’s eyes were bright with unshed tears, or that she wasn’t meeting his eyes.
“I’m okay love, please, just hold me a minute okay?”

Bucky was panicking too much to listen to the desperation in her voice “I will doll, just let me go out and get you something okay? You need something to settle your stomach and to bring your fever down.”
Alice squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head violently “No! Please, you can’t go out!”
“I’m fine Alice and you’re not! Look, I’ll only be gone for 20 minutes, let me take care of you okay? You need to get better. I can’t believe that this came on so quick.”
Pushing herself up on the bed so she was sat up, Alice threw her head in her hands and started to tug on her hair “It’s too dangerous, please don’t go.”
Completely frustrated and unable to work out why she was so dead set against him getting her any medication Bucky grabbed Alice’s wrists and gently pulled then away from her hair “Stop it Alice, even someone as strong as you needs to be taken care of every once in a while. Please, let me help you. I promise I won’t be gone long.”
Looking absolutely miserable, Alice looked at him for a long moment. Next thing he knew, she had launched herself at him in a bone crushing hug, with her face turned into his neck she begged “Please, please be careful. Wear your gloves and maybe sunglasses? Keep your face completely hidden. If you get caught because of me…”
Bewildered, Bucky just nodded his head and returned the hug even though he was careful to be gentle with her.
Alice let go and lay back on the bed, she still looked awful, her face was way too pale and she had felt far too hot and she was still rubbing her chest.

To Bucky, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, he knew he didn’t deserve her after what he had done, but now that he had found her and she had fallen for him too? Bucky would hold onto her no matter what.

Unable to bear it any longer, Bucky leant over her and kissed her quickly then leant his forehead against hers “Don’t worry so much Alice, I’ll be back before you know it. You can have your medicine, we can curl up on the couch and watch a movie. You heal really quickly anyway don’t you? You’ll be fine in a few hours. Please don’t worry about me, just rest.”
Alice’s green eyes seemed so much brighter than usual, and they were so sad.
Taking a deep breath Alice nodded her head and whispered “Okay.”
Bucky grabbed his jacket and gloves and pulled his boots on “See you in 20 minutes okay?”
Before he could leave Alice spoke up again “I love you so much Bucky. I’m sorry about…about feeling this way.”
Looking down at her, Bucky felt his heart swell with what he felt for her “I love you too doll. I would do anything for you, same as what you would do for me right?” Smiling as he left the apartment, he was too preoccupied with thoughts about what pharmacy was closest to notice how Alice’s face had crumpled at his words.


“Please, please don’t make me do this!”
Alive was begging. Sat alone on the bed in the flat she shared with the love of her life, she was begging herself to not let her leave. To let her stay.
You can’t stay. You will never get this finished if you stay with him. You love him too much, he will always come first for you from now on.
“I can make this work, I can talk to him!”
NO! You know I’m right. And you know you don’t have a lot of time left. Make this choice Alice. Do your duty.
“I hate you! I hate being a Slayer! I never asked for any of this! I just wanted to be free.” Alice’s heart felt like it was breaking, like it was burning in her chest. She couldn’t just walk away, there had to be another option. Bucky would never forgive her if she just left.
Your first duty is, was and will always be to protect those who cannot protect themselves. You brought those creatures here. It is you scared duty to end this. Bucky will be angry. But you will survive and you can find him. Make him understand. Make your choice Alice.
After Bucky had left, the voice in her head had become clearer. Maggie’s voices was ordering her. And Maggie had always been right. Every time.
Alice stood up. Grabbed the bag with the orbs, cash and her Scythe inside. Alice walked to the kitchen. A few minutes later, Alice had done what she had had to do.
Alice ran from the flat.


Bucky had been gone 15 minutes, he had gotten turned around and missed where the nearest pharmacy was. Doubling back on himself he found the place that he was looking for. Walking in, he kept his head down as Alice had asked him, he walked past a display of newspapers towards the medicine section that he needed.
An alarm bell started ringing in his head, looking around he tried to spot what the threat was and after a minute, decided that there was no one lethal in the vicinity. Stood stock still, Bucky’s eyes continued to scan to try and work out what had caused the panic in him, spotting the newspapers again, his legs carried him there before he could think about why.
He was staring at them, trying to spot what had his heart rate spiking when a voice piped up “Excuse me, could you pass me the paper young man?”
Looking up, Bucky saw the elderly man holding his hand out impatiently at him. Grabbing the nearest paper Bucky made to hand it over but, then he saw it.
No, it’s Tuesday. We didn’t sleep for 24 hours, I’ve never willingly slept that long..
“Are you okay kid? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“No. Um, is that correct? Is it really Wednesday?”
Bucky kept his head down as he asked but his hands started to shake Please no…
The old man looked suspiciously at Bucky, “You been drinking son?”
Shaking his head, Bucky attempted a smile, technically he had a good few years on this guy, but he didn’t want to be rude for no reason. “No sir. My…girlfriend has been sick. She’s been up for the last couple of days, guess I just got the days messed up.” He was still confused as to why the lost day would cause him to panic so much. Suddenly, he knew he should be back home, Alice didn’t need this medicine as much as he had thought. But she had been sick. So why am I so worried?
“That’s good, taking care of your girl like that. My wife, God rest her soul, I would’ve done anything like that for her too. I hope she gets better soon kid.”
Muttering a quick thank you Bucky grabbed a paper that was on the top shelf. The front cover announced that 4 people had gone missing over the last 2 nights.
Oh no. Alice, please don’t do what I think you’ve done.
Throwing the paper to the floor, Bucky ran out of the shop.
Running far too fast, causing people to stare, Bucky flew over the sidewalk. Thinking back over what Alice had been like, what she had said, Bucky couldn’t help but think the worst. That she already knew, and she had panicked.
Forcing himself even faster, Bucky made it back in a scarily short amount of time.
Barely winded, he ran up the stairs to the door.
Please please please please
Throwing the door wide open, Bucky ran into the apartment. Going straight to her bedroom and hoping, praying, that he was wrong, that she would still be in bed, still look ill. She would be angry, she would probably be terrified about him running that fast in public and refuse to let him back out again. Alice was strong though, she would get better without the medicine. And she would be here, she would be safe with him.
Holding onto that thought, Bucky opened the bedroom door.
And felt his heart stop.
Running over to the bed, he started throwing the covers everywhere, She’s not here, she’s not HERE!
He ran out of the room, looked in his old room, the bathroom, kitchen, living room NOTHING.
Suddenly, he spotted a piece of paper on the counter in the kitchen. Walking slowly, as if in a dream, or in a nightmare, Bucky bent to pick it up.


I am so sorry. I caused 11 more people to die, by being with you.
I love you so much, you have no idea how much you mean to me.
But I HAVE to do this on my own. I can’t let anyone else die because I was selfish and wanted some happiness of my own.
Try to understand. The fact that you are more important to me than all the innocent people that are dying scares me. This isn’t their fault, or yours. It’s mine. I need to end this.
This was my life long before you. It’s who I am. It’s the only thing I can be.
Please don’t track me down.

I love you.


What the fuck was she talking about? There was only four people missing. On a growl, Bucky launched himself towards that god forsaken laptop. Sure enough, there was that website, stating in bold goddamn letters, that there was actually 11 people who had died since Monday.
Feeling murderous, Bucky threw the laptop into the wall where it shattered. That stupid theorist had scared Alice into leaving. There was no proof. She had just assumed that the information in front of her face was accurate.
But why didn’t she wait for me? Why leave?
Bucky read the note over and over, trying to find meaning in it. Alice had left him. To do a suicide mission by herself.
Too much. Too much.
Falling to his knees, Bucky held his head in his hands.
He wanted to find her and scream in her face, shake some goddamn sense into her, but “tracking her down” wasn’t something he could do. When he had found her it was because he had followed her. Bucky had figured out pretty quickly that Alice was far too reliant on the extra abilities that she had to protect her. It was something that Bucky had wanted to teach her, to be more observant of the dangerous people that were everywhere in this dimension.
Alice didn’t even exist here, how could he find her?
I would’ve done anything for you Alice. How could you leave me like this?
Bucky shook his head. And yelled until his voice gave out.


Alice had found shelter at the docks. Holding the Scythe, she tried to draw on the power that she could usually sense from it, but…nothing.
Her chest felt empty. It’s not that her heart felt broken or even that it felt shattered. Her heart wasn’t even there anymore, she had left it in their flat.

Alice had taken the money and the orbs along with the Scythe, she would find somewhere to sell them as soon as possible.
Alice had considered leaving what was left of the cash for Bucky, but some dark calculating part of her knew that if she kept it, it would seal another nail in the coffin of their relationship. Bucky needed reasons to stay away.

Alice’s head pounded from the back of her neck all the way around her skull. A large part of her wanted to run back, beg him to forgive her, to understand why she had panicked. Alice would give anything for Bucky to turn up at any moment, scream at her and then hold her and promise that they could fix this, together.
Alice needed him to stay away.
Oh, I think he will. You betrayed him. You knew how he felt. The least you could’ve done was try and explain to him. Bucky was a master assassin, forced or not. He would know the best way to deal with this. But what does it matter? You’re never going to see him again.
The voice had changed back to the gender neutral sarcastic voice that it had been since the lab. Maggie’s furious certainty hadn’t made another appearance since Alice had fled.

Alice had been sat outside for hours, the sky had gone dark.
No one had seen her. No one had been looking.

Alice forced herself into a standing position. The being watched feeling had started to creep up on her.
Looking upward to the stars, Alice said a prayer to anyone, anything that might listen.

Please keep him safe. Please keep me safe so that I can get back to him. I will do my duty. But let me live afterwards.

Alice Winters the Vampire Slayer dusted herself off and began her patrolling for the night. Her work came first. Everything else, everyone else had to come second. Alice had a vampire named Ethan to hunt.

Where do we go from here?

Pairing: Simon Lewis/Raphael Santiago
Words: 7.5k
Summary: 3 times Simon tries to regain Raphael’s trust (+ the one time he does)
Author’s note: this is a sequel to Would you bleed for me? But you don’t really have to read it to understand this fic. All important information is explained in this.


Simon has always hated working out. He just never understood the point of it. All you did was sweat and get exhausted and possibly throw up, which he could just as well do getting drunk at a festival.

So yeah, he usually sat gym out in the boys restroom in high school and was just really glad P.E. wasn’t a subject in college anymore. He could wave goodbye to that horrible waste of time for the rest of his life.

That is, until he got Turned.

Training with Raphael was hard before he betrayed him. He would kick him around, throw him against walls, make him run until he threw up the blood he’d drank right before (he made a mental note not to feed before training anymore) and throw punches at him until he was dizzy and unsteady on his feet.

But where his training was hard before, it’s ruthless now.

Simon doesn’t blame him. Ever since they got Bonded after Camille died, Simon can feel Raphael’s emotions. Not super strongly and not all the time, but sometimes he’ll feel a flare of anger or frustration or hurt. Raphael is still mad at him for having betrayed him, and he puts all that anger in his training with Simon.

Simon hadn’t expected Raphael to pick up training again when he was finally let into the hotel again. He’d thought the older vampire would just leave Simon to it, make him figure it out by himself. If he’s strong enough to betray the clan, he should be strong enough to continue training by himself.

But, surprisingly, one day after his return to the hotel, Raphael wakes him up by flicking on the lights in his room and throwing a pillow at his head.

“Wake up, fledgling,” he says, already annoyed. Simon grimaces at the return of his old way of being addressed. He’s already missing baby, even though he hated the nickname when Raphael still called him that. The last time he did, Simon was dying in his arms and Raphael saved his life.

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Wolfram (and Yuuri’s) daily routine

I’m submitting this for the MA event @redglassesgirl-maruma​ 
It has lots of information about Wolfram.

Analysis (of the quotes under the cut)

Yuuri says he feels guilty for making Wolfram spend 24/7 by his side. Wolfram is not tagging along uninvited, Yuuri is MAKING him come along.
He said so himself. (Special story in MA illustration)

Daily routine:
Yuuri wakes up. Wolfram - more often than not- is still sleeping. According to Yuuri this is because he has low blood pressure (not because he’s an alcoholic as people have suggested). Yuuri does his morning training with Conrad. He returns to his room, takes a shower- he doesn’t mind if Wolfram is watching- Wolfram is waking up, drinking red tea and munching on something while reading the newspaper in their bedroom. (Duel at MA Noon)

Conrad sometimes joins them for breakfast. Wolfram doesn’t mind. (Duel at MA Noon)

After this they work together in Yuuri’s office -Wolfram is near the door, Yuuri is at the back. We can assume that Gunter and Gwendal work in the same office. (Crossheart)

Then, Wolfram and Yuuri have lunch together and alone, even if Greta is in Shin Makoku- (but this might be because she’s in school, Yuuri created public schools and she attends) The only time that the place where they’re having lunch has been specified, they were eating outside, in the castle’s gardens. (Poison Lady in another land)

Yuuri then goes back to work. Wolfram goes with him, unless Anissina shows up to tell him an interesting story.  (Poison Lady in another land)

At some point ‘working hours’ end. We don’t know how long after this Yuuri and Wolfram have dinner in the maou’s bedroom. The only time dinner was mentioned, the two were eating alone in the maou’s bedroom. (Duel at MA Noon). Yuuri said in novel 4 that he makes Wolfram bathe with him every night. So bathing together is part of their daily routine too. Yuuri then seems to be ‘too tired’ to do anything else, and he falls asleep.

About their ‘bath-time’:

Yuuri states that he doesn’t like to bathe alone because the ofuro is too big.

He also claims that he was trying to deepen his friendship with Wolf by bathing EVERY NIGHT with him…. but if he hates bathing alone… why didn’t he ask Conrad to bathe with him so he wouldn’t be alone? Or why didn’t he try to deepen his friendship with Gwen? Gwen and Yuuri aren’t that close… why not become a ‘bro’ with Gwen? It seems oddly strange that he only wants to ‘deepen his friendship’ with the guy he describes as a bathing angel. What about Gunter? Why not cure his nosebleeds by bathing with him and becoming ‘bros’? C’mon Yuuri! There are tons of people you can become bros with!

And with that irony-filled remark I’ll end my post.
I hope you enjoyed. Reblog with your comments ^-^

(All the quotes go under the cut)

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Things I wish people knew about SPD.

I saw a list of important things to know about SPD circulating on Tumblr yesterday, and it managed to skip pretty much everything that I wish people knew. I’m making my own list not in an attempt to talk over whoever made the first one, but to offer my own perspective.

Note: I can only speak for myself, so if anything in this post erases you or makes you feel invalidated, please tell me. I’m happy to add or amend things.


1. Not everyone with SPD is autistic. While most autistic people have SPD, the reverse is not true. I have read that while a higher percentage of the autistic community than the allistic community has SPD, there are more allistic people with SPD than autistic people who have it.

This one is important from a social perspective and a medical one. From a social perspective, it can be alienating for allistic people with SPD (like me) to see posts saying things like “allistic people cannot possibly understand what it’s like to have sensory processing disorder” or “don’t use these words I came up with to describe what sensory processing disorder is like unless you’re autistic.” I don’t think this misunderstanding benefits allistic or autistic people with SPD. I have had autistic people reblog stuff I’ve said about SPD before, so I think we’re likely to miss out on a lot of people who can relate to our experiences if we try to limit our understanding of SPD to include only one type of person. From a medical perspective, I worry that automatically linking SPD with autism might make it harder for allistic people with SPD to get help or support. If one of our parents is told it’s not autism, they are likely to go “oh, okay then, it must just be nothing” rather than continuing to explore other possibilities.

2. Adults can have SPD just like children can. It’s not something that people automatically “grow out of” once they reach 18. 

3. It is not safe to assume that adults with SPD received treatment as children. The one resource I’ve found for adults with SPD (that didn’t exclusively focus on parents) wrote about how “even though you’ve been treated in the past, you may still encounter difficulties as you enter new levels of development.” Considering that many people with SPD report having been bullied, punished, and threatened by caregivers when they displayed signs of SPD, and that SPD was not well-known (particularly as separate from autism) when many of us were growing up, it is not safe to assume that our emotional needs were always attended to. Many of us are dealing with trauma from the abuse that our abusers blamed on our “difficult” behavior in addition to the already significant challenges the disorder brings. 

4. Even those who have been to occupational therapy may still have sensory issues. Therapy is rarely a cure-all so much as an introduction to some strategies that might make a difference.

5. If someone with SPD is a “picky eater,” this person is not acting “spoiled” or entitled by limiting her menu or refusing certain types of food. Saying stuff like “oh boy, if you had had my mother, she would’ve set you straight about this ‘no spinach’ rule you have” is not helpful. In all likelihood, rather than “setting your friend straight” or “putting your friend’s pickiness in perspective,” your strict mother’s “I don’t care what you say, you’re eating whatever I tell you to,” attitude would have hurt your friend more than it helped. The foods that your SPD friend has on her “safe list” may be the only ones that she can even handle eating. People with SPD who have limited menus aren’t demanding their favorite foods every night; they’re trying to make sure that they actually manage to eat. Having our sensory issues triggered can make some of us literally unable to eat for a while, which is dangerous. Not eating is worse than being “picky” about what you eat.

6. Sometimes SPD triggers don’t vanish after the problem stops happening. Eating food with the wrong texture can mess up my appetite and cause feelings of shame that make me not want to eat. Being touched when I don’t want to be (including on the arm) can leave my skin crawling for hours if not days. If someone is still triggered after a problem is dealt with, yelling “I STOPPED, what’s the matter NOW????” isn’t going to help.

7. People with SPD who cringe and wince at blood pressure cuffs are not “pain wimps” or “cowards who hate fun” any more than sensory seekers who like blood pressure cuffs are “braver” or “less cowardly” than the rest of us. We simply receive different amounts of sensory information from things than you do.

8. SPD is inconvenient for the person who has it too. We don’t enjoy spending 2 hours at night talking about which dinner option is least likely to accidentally have a funky texture. We don’t enjoy working on a meal and having to not eat it (when we’re ravenous) because the texture is wrong. None of us enjoy having trouble sleeping, needing expensive toys to keep our senses in check, etc. None of us delight at finding every shirt at the store itchy. Even if these things annoy you, they’re probably more annoying for us because we have to live with them 24/7.

9. Sometimes SPD makes us enjoy certain things more than you would rather than just hating things more. The texture of a fuzzy or satiny blanket might be more exciting to us than it is to you. My striped sheets feel like they have ridges, which reminds me of eating ridgey chips. People who enjoy weighted blankets may like having more weight on top of them than you’d find comfortable. In short, our senses can be positively stimulated, it just might look different than positively stimulating yours.

10. For some of us, things like sex can be difficult or at least work differently than they do for people without SPD. Some people don’t like the feeling of any wetness around their faces and therefore dislike kissing. Others may need fairly firm touch and get “creepy crawly” sensation from touch that is too light. Some may have sex lives that aren’t too affected by SPD, while others may avoid sex altogether because of SPD. It’s important to ask anyone you’re thinking about being sexual with what their preferences are and to ask with an open mind.

11. When SPD is one of many “unusual” things we have going on, it can be difficult to find where it begins and our other concerns end. For example, a sexual trauma survivor might be unsure whether he’s triggered by kissing or just hates the sensation of it. Someone with fibromyalgia might not know if the way you’re touching them is bothering their SPD or if their fibromyalgia is flaring up. Sometimes, we may need you to stop doing things without being able to pinpoint exactly what’s wrong with those things.