FAKE Bisexuals? Yes, its true.

There are fake bisexuals. 

Little known fact.

Up to 40% of self proclaimed “bisexuals” are actually just a swarm of bees in a trench coat desperately mimicking human form following a colony collapse. 

Be kind to them, they have lost their hive.

Tourist Trap | | Bagginshield AU

On the North side of the Long Lake sat a tiny used-to-be tourist town named Erebor. The town was once a popular vacation spot with its many tourist attractions, chiefly, the myth about Smaug: the lake-dwelling sea monster that was rumored to live in the large lake. Now in the 21st Century, Erebor is struggling to survive with only a handful of people passing through during peak season. Management of Tourism for Erebor now lands in the lap of Thorin Durinson who’s inherited the business from his family.

Along with Bilbo Baggins, mythological fanatic and bookkeeper for Erebor’s current financial situation, Thorin’s determined to do something to drive people back to Erebor and the shores of the Long Lake. However, they quickly realize they may be in way over their head. 

anonymous asked:

Imagine Sam encouraging Bucky to get a dream journal so they can help him sort through what's just a crazy nightmare and what's an actual memory. For a while, most of what he writes is all about killing and pain. But one morning he comes to Steve with a dream about riding something at some kind of fair and Steve throwing up a bunch of hotdogs.

Bucky’s out of practice at the whole writing thing, but he seems to find it easier than talking through his dreams aloud. Steve works diligently through every new page of the journal, through piles of unfiltered thoughts and misspelled words in Bucky’s spiky, erratic handwriting. 

Confirm and encourage, that’s Steve’s job. Bucky’s head is full to bursting with thoughts he doesn’t trust, memories he can’t place, dreams he can’t distinguish from memory. The dream journal is a window into Bucky’s mind and the view isn’t always pleasant - there are the entries that read like mission reports, cataloguing nightmarish scenes of brutality with a clinical detachment that turns Steve’s stomach. And then there are the softer memories, the randomised splashes of detail without context, the razor-sharp barbs that disguise themselves as harmless recollection.

and then steve said Im fine and back off bucky your such a jerk, the entry reads. and after that we went home but later when we were in the army steve made us both jump off a cliff

Confirm and encourage. Steve’s hands are starting to shake; he sets the notebook down open on the table and forces himself to keep reading.

and I said this isnt pay back is it and then I fell off the train

The sentence on the page bleeds into a few bits of scratched-out cyrillic lettering and then straight back into English -

but it wasnt pay back it was just an aciddent

Several lines of spacing, a few random pen-marks of indeterminate significance and an ink-stained puncture where the pen stabbed right through the paper -

it wasnt steves fucking fault

The rest of the page is blank. Steve tries not to throw up on it. He remembers Coney Island, remembers how he felt after riding the cyclone - and what he’s feeling now is a million times worse.

Confirm and encourage. Dimly, he’s aware of Bucky hunched over across the table from him, staring down at his oatmeal like it’s the only interesting thing that’s ever happened to him. Steve knows better. He’s waiting.

“It’s…it’s real,” Steve rasps. It’s the best his voice can do right now. “They’re real memories. It all…it all happened.”

Bucky lets out a long, slow breath. His spoon clatters against the side of his bowl. “I know, Steve,” he says, and Steve searches his inflection for some kind of emotion, some kind of tell, but there’s nothing. “I know.”


manburger, brisket boy, and slab all coming soon from the spraybq fragrance line by rhett and link.