pay off my student loans


Borderlands Appreciation Month → [BTPS] Day 15: Favorite Vault Hunter

“Something something hero stuff. Something something I’m attractive.”

Massage Therapy

Massage Therapy ½

Bucky x Reader

College AU

This was written for @bionic-buckyb ‘s 5K Challenge

Prompt: “Do not try and twist this around to be my fault when it’s clearly yours.”


Summary: Bucky harbours a crush on you and asks you to help him with an assignment. Things don’t turn out as planned.

Warnings: SMUT. Oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex (I guess they didn’t have time to work out the logistics? WEAR A CONDOM FOLKS).

AN: It’s really wordy. And I know nothing about kinesiology or muscle groups or massage therapy so please don’t get upset.

WC 1043

Coming home from class that day, you tossed your schoolbag onto the floor and flopped on the couch. You were exhausted and sore and desperately needed a break from school.

Groaning, you heard a knock on the door. Hoping it would be one of your roommates with their own key, you called out, “Who is it?”

“Bucky,” came the muffled answer.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, hauling yourself up. Throwing open the door, you snapped, “What?” and without waiting for his answer, you returned back to the couch.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” he asked, rummaging through the fridge.

Grumbling, your eyes widened when you recalled the emergency chocolate stash you had hidden above the fridge. As Bucky was much taller than you, he could probably reach it easier so you tried sweet talking him.

“Bucky?” you called out, in a sing-songy voice. “Care to be a gentleman?”

He outright laughed at you, “What do you need??

“I’m going to share a secret with you but you can’t tell anyone. Promise?” you pulled yourself upright and looked at him. He nodded his agreement, “Can you reach into the cupboard above the fridge and pull out my emergency chocolate stash? Please?”

You caught him rolling his eyes at you but he abided to your request. You squealed and clapped your hands when he reached it easily and he brought the box of chocolate over to you.

“My hero,” you drawled out, snatching the box from him as he sat on the couch next to you.

Generously, you offered him a treat but he declined, munching on the apple he pilfered from your fridge. “You know,” he began but you held out your hand to silence him.

“I know the apple is better for me but right now, it’s chocolate or wine and it’s too early to drink.”

He shrugged, “Suit yourself. What’s the matter though?”

You fell back on the couch groaning. “Ugh. I’ve got three essays due in the next week on top of wrapping up some independent study units. Then, I have a play to review and it’s not enough to read the play but I actually have to trek to the theatre to watch it which normally I wouldn’t mind but I’ve picked up some double shifts at work to try to make extra money so I can maybe - just maybe - pay off some of my student loans.” You stopped to breathe.

“So you’ve got a lot on your plate right now?”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “That’s what you took away from that? Yes. I’ve got a lot on my plate right now.”

“Perfect,” he smiled at you. “Turn around.”

Keep reading


“Millions and millions of years would still not give me half enough time to describe that tiny instant of all eternity when you put your arms around me and I put my arms around you.”-Jacques Prevert.

anonymous asked:

Just out of curiosity, do any of our amazingly talented moderators have day jobs or is this it? If this is it, then that means that commissions are your only income, and you devote full time to this blog! So we are very proud of you either way because you either balance work and Afac or you devote all of your time to us fans.

I just want to preface this post and say that if you are unable to help support us financially please know that you are still very important and helpful to us. A person who loves our content and shares it with other people is just as helpful and precious as those able to donate their money to help us make ends meet. So thank you for all the support that we’ve received and thank you for enjoying our content, we put a lot of our time and love into our work and it means a lot to me that people enjoy my work.

For those of you who feel comfortable with where you are financially, here is a break down of our current financial situation:

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics as of July 19, 2017, the lowest weekly salary is the average weekly salary for a Woman aged 16 to 24 which is $496 per week.

Our main source of income is the comic and we’re currently making $36.50 dollars each per month, that’s about $8.54 per week. 

I also make some money for my work at Studio Catbird, my last pay check for the month of June was 53.33 for the month (approx. $12 per week) and that’s for helping edit videos as well as my lines. SB pays us a percentage based on the amount of money the channel makes that month, how many episodes we’re in, and if we’ve done any additional work like editing the videos.

I use all of my income to pay off my student loans at the moment, (previously I was paying back 100 dollars per month though I might need to reduce my payments to the 50 dollar minimum if I have to dip into my saving account which currently contains about 300 dollars, a 300 dollars that I’m doing my very best to hang onto in case of an emergency).

If you are interested in helping support us directly you can send money to our paypals with the emails below:

If you are interested in supporting the groups we belong to on a monthly basis:

Thank you again for any support and thank you for reading our comic!

The Donation

Originally posted by daefsoul

wealthy!au; Himchan

When you’re struggling, sometimes a helping hand is appreciated. 

Caution: smut ahead.

You took a heavy breath as the usually busy lunch hour dwindled down. The once packed restaurant had gone down to less than eight patrons. And only one was in your section. “So much for paying those loans,” you sighed feeling slightly defeated.

You perked up at the sound of the bell on the door ringing. You glanced at the door sending a large smile at the familiar face of your favorite costumer, Himchan. He was always good to you, both as a person and in tips. A friendship formed quickly between the two of you. It didn’t help that you found him insanely handsome.

You made your way to his table, taking a seat across from him to give your sore feet a rest. “Howdy stranger,” you greeted.

He gave you his usual charming smile,“Hello beautiful. Anything good on the menu?”

“You always ask that, yet you always get the same thing.”

He chuckled, “Do I?”

Keep reading

I work four jobs.

They say I’m ambitious.

First job: I do research in a laboratory, full time, 40 hours a week. The room is in the basement level, no windows, no clocks, rarely even another human being. I stare at a computer all day until the numbers and their meanings are lost on me and when I sleep I see visions of graph after graph ghosted across my eyelids - I am a robot, a machine, starved of sunlight and human contact. The only thing to pass my lips in weeks are energy drinks and reheated fast food and if I’m LUCKY a “hello” to the night janitor when I’m leaving.

My second and third jobs, a proctor and a learning assistant. I get to teach kids who hate me and who hate the material I’m desperately trying to teach them. I’ve been shouted at by my students more than once while walking around campus.

My fourth job: I donate plasma. Twice a week. I’m greeted by cold and stony faced nurses who poke and prod me and stick needle after needle into me.

I sell my body to survive.

I’m also a full time student. I’m taking 21 credits currently. The hardest classes in my major, too. How do I do it? Because I’m fortunate enough to be able to afford to shove pill after pill into my body, to replace what’s been taken, to keep me from fucking killing myself.

My parents have the audacity to be proud of me. To be fucking proud of me selling and wearing away piece after piece of me to survive so that I can get a job and be middle class and pay off student loans for the rest of my fucking life. They’re proud of this dried up, crumbling husk I’ve become.

All it would take is one strong breeze and I’d be gone.

But I’m ambitious.

I work four jobs.

Illustrated Haiku // Ten Chittaphon


the prompt: a soulmate!ten au where y/n loves to write poetry on her arms, and ten likes to illustrate them.

words: 4157

category: fluff

authors note: this isn’t a request, it’s just something I was working on so I hope you guys like it! (also appreciate the gif below of my lil bub)

– destinee

Originally posted by visualjaehyun

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Heard a story on the radio today that made me a bit happy. A waitress at some restaurant was having a delightful time with the people at the table she was serving. She told them that she's working 2 jobs to pay off her student loans. They leave a $400 tip. They come back a week later and tell her that they're gonna pay off her student loans, which they did in fact follow through on. It's good to know that not everybody is an asshole.

Can someone pay off my student loans, it would be greatly appreciated! -Mandie


anonymous asked:

What would you do with 1 million dollars?

I would pay off my sister’s student loans and my own. 250k
I would enroll back in school and finish my degree (s) 50k
I would send my brother to college. 80k
I would buy my parents their dream home. 100k
I would pay for the rest of Rachel’s schooling so she wouldn’t have to work. 30k
I would hire someone to design a functioning catalogue website and mobile app. 10k
I would pay for my squad to meet up in london. 6k
I would give out 10 l0k scholarships to phandom members. 100k
I would give each admin money for all of the hard work they do. 20k
I would start my charity that funds therapy programs to those who cannot afford them. 100k
I would take my grandmother to Scotland so she can visit her family’s graves. (She’s wheelchair bound and can’t move very well so id need an aid along. (10k)
I would put money into savings for my future. 100k
I would give the rest away to various charities. 144k

That’s what I would do with a million dollars.
What would you do?

Just to put this in perspective for those of you who think riding for work is a big fun game that’s just like riding for a hobby, here are some sacrifices I’ve made to get to where I am and if you’re still going to try to talk down to me and say I don’t work hard because I like my job then you can leave:

-going to university full time while galloping 12-14+ horses 7x a week. Yup, I would go to work in the mornings and then head straight off to school when I needed to. I did this up until final exams, on the date of my exam, I galloped in the morning and then headed STRAIGHT off to write my exam. I ended the semester with As and Bs.

-riding racehorses with a broken hand so that I could guarantee I’d be the main gallop girl for the year and not risk having someone else get given my job

-getting on dangerous horses and having to ride through things like getting bolted on at 60km/h or sitting vertical rears and having to handle them calmly and carry on after.

-chasing a horse around a field for 1 hour in the hot sun using pressure and release to catch it. Repeat several times until horse learned to be caught.

-putting in 10+ hour days, getting home an hour before I need to go to bed to be rested for the next morning.

-literally aching all over and having to continue to physically exert myself day after day.

-not getting a true day off very often at all.

-working while sick, coughing up phlegm on horseback. Literally getting off to vomit one time and then having to finish riding because people need me to do my job

-staying out late on a night where I was supposed to have the day off the next day,but getting called into work at 6am because someone ended up not being able to come in and I was needed. Going and galloping 11 hours on 5 hours sleep then riding 4 more.

-harsh criticism from employers. People will be blunt af when you mess up. There isn’t room to be messing up much at all.

Working a job in an industry you love is more rewarding than a job you don’t like, that’s for sure. I do genuinely enjoy my work but that doesn’t mean it isn’t without sacrifice and hard work. I don’t wake up every morning wanting to work as hard as I have to. I would definitely enjoy having more days off but such is life and these are the types of sacrifices I need to make to get to where I want, afford my horses and car while paying off student loans.

If you aren’t prepared to work your ass off and make big sacrifices then you’ll be shocked if you ever do land a job in the horse industry because it will not be ANYTHING like riding your own horses, in fact, it makes it harder to make the time and motivation for your own horses since you’re generally exhausted by the time you finally get to do yours. Work is work, even if you enjoy it. Don’t be a dick to someone and talk down to them about the level of work they do just because you think you’d like their job.

My work now is the hardest job I’ve had and I’m working the hardest now than I have before. It’s rewarding but it can be frustrating and overwhelming and stressful. Just like any job!!!


Steve Rogers X Reader Soulmate AU

A/N: I know I said I was going to bed, but ERMERGERD!! I finally hit 200 followers!! I have been obsessing over Soulmate AUs, lately, so I figured what a great time to try and bang one out! A special occasion fluff piece! Thank you so much for those who have followed me! 200 may not be a lot to some of you, but it is a huge milestone for me!

Summary: Soulmates are born with their partner’s name tattooed over their heart. What happens when the reader is born with a famous missing Captain America’s name?

Warnings: A poor deer gets hit by a car, minor accident, very little injury and blood.

Word Count: About 1700 words (more or less)


Originally posted by skylerlockerbie

Steven Grant Rogers.

When I was born, my parents and doctors were astonished. Captain America had been presumed dead since the forties, making it an impossible scenario at the time. History books never mentioned that he had a name tattooed over his heart. He hadn’t made that information public. I guess soulmates were considered controversial at that period of time, since there was not a lot of information about it.

“You mustn’t let anybody know who your soulmate is, Y/N.” My father always warned, failing to hide the fear laced in his voice. “You don’t want the wrong people to know this piece of information. It could do a lot of damage and get you hurt.”

So, I covered up the delicate writing. Foundation and high-cut shirts became my life-line. I never told anybody that I had a soulmate, and people didn’t question me. Not everybody’s born with a soulmate, anyways.

The world is cruel. I would rather have had no soulmate, instead of a dead one.

I had gotten pretty good at hiding my tattoo, and refused to let the sting of knowing I would never meet my other half get me down. I had graduated high school with honors, graduated from a great college, and got a job as a nurse in a local hospital in New York. I loved my job. I worked really hard to have a good life, and enjoyed the satisfaction of knowing that I was helping people.

Then he was found. He was alive.

I was sitting in the break room, talking to one of my colleagues about an upcoming vacation I’d planned, when someone had shouted to turn on the TV.

Captain America Alive – Frozen in time!

The headlines all said it.

My heart almost stopped beating. He was alive. After all this time. He was alive.

I ran to the restroom to call my mother. “Did you see the television?” I all but shouted, hands shaking.

“I did.” She responded, a smile in her voice. “He’s alive, after all this time.”

“What do I do? I don’t want to freak him out! I’m sure waking up in a different era after being frozen is hard enough, without adding me into the mix.” I sat down on the counter, next to the sink. I needed to think this through, before making any rash decisions. I was overjoyed. I was nervous. I was hurt. I had spent my whole life believing that I was never going to meet my other half. Thinking that the universe was playing a cruel joke on me by giving me the name of a dead man.

I had been wrong after all this time.

“It’s up to you, sweetheart. You need to be the one to make the decision.” I could faintly hear the television in the background of the phone. “If you really want to meet him, you don’t need to do it today. Do it in your own time.”

So that’s what I did. I waited. Three years.

I had followed what he was doing through the news and social media, over time. He had joined a group that called themselves The Avengers, and was trying to do some good in the world.

I was trying to get my life in order, before I met him. I was paying off my student loans, I was working a lot, and I had moved closer to Stark Tower – now called The Avengers Tower – to be close when I was ready to talk to him.

After a particularly grueling day at the hospital – a twelve hour shift – I was supposed to be making my way to see my parents for an upcoming birthday. I was tired. It was really late at night, and I was skipping the set-up with my mother, since the party was the next day. It was a gross night, the rain was coming down in sheets, and it was way too cold. I had been wearing my scrubs, but the shirt was too dirty, so I was driving with my scrub pants and a tank top, making sure the heat in my car cranked up.

Luckily, traffic was pretty light, but the rain was not letting up.

“What the hell! Pass me, asshole.” I muttered, looking in my rearview mirror at a giant SUV behind me. “What, are you trying to pick your goddamn teeth in my mirror?”

My eyes had only flicked to the SUV for a second, but when I looked forward all I saw were a pair of shining eyes.


I gasped, slamming the brakes as the deer was tumbling onto my hood and smashing into my windshield. My body was forced forward, and my face made contact with the steering wheel. My foot felt like it was forcing my body weight onto the brake, and I threw my car in park, praying I was on the side of the road. “God dammit.” I yelled, bringing my hand up to my throbbing nose, and it came away sticky with blood. I felt it, and – luckily – it hadn’t been broken.

Shit. My windshield was fucked.

The deer!

I clicked off my seatbelt, throwing open my door. Before I climbed out, I grabbed my dirty scrub shirt, pressing it against my face to soak up the bleeding.

“Woah, are you sure you want to be getting out of the car, right now?” A woman’s voice said from a few feet behind my car. “Are you okay?”

My windshield was splattered with blood and hair, and the car was totaled. “Fuck! So much for paying off my car!” This fucking sucks.

I turned to the woman, and froze in my tracks. I would recognize that red hair anywhere. Natasha Romanoff? The Black fucking Widow? “Uhh, I’m fine. I just hit my nose. It’s bleeding, but it isn’t-”


The passenger door to the SUV opened, revealing none other than him. Captain America.

He was a lot bigger in person. He was tall, broad, and handsome. His hair was so golden blonde, but dirty at the same time. And his blue eyes stood out from his clear, attractive face. They were the most beautiful shade of blue I had ever seen.

Oh, God, I’m freaking out…

Oh, shit. You were talking, Y/N.

“-It isn’t broken. I’m more pissed about my car.” I shivered, rain making the cold seep into my exposed flesh, and shock of the accident waring off. “I just need to call a tow.”

“I already called one, Ma’am.” His perfect voice flooded my ears, and I had to stop myself from embarrassing myself by swooning. “Are you sure you’re okay? That’s a lot of blood.”

I nodded, using the soiled scrub shirt to wipe the blood from my face and chest. I tossed it into the car and grabbed my umbrella to block off the rain, “D-did they say how long they would be?”

“Twenty Minutes.” He responded, unzipping his hoodie and tossing it to me, “Take this. You don’t want to catch a cold.” Such a gentleman.

I was so focused on not embarrassing myself in front of Steve, that I didn’t notice Natasha eyeing up my badge and my half-wiped makeup over my tattoo. “Hey, Steve.” She looked over, beckoning him closer. “Check out the name on her badge.”

My heart stopped beating. Oh, shit. My eyes were almost bugging out of my head, and I could tell that she knew exactly whose name was tattooed over my heart.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He read aloud, voice questioning. His head sprung up, looking serious and taken aback, “Your middle name wouldn’t be Y/M/N, would it?”

I smiled sheepishly, taking my sleeve and wiping the rest of the dripping foundation off my chest, “Hi.”

“Hi.” He smiled, a look of relief on his face. “You’re my soulmate.”

I felt my face blush, and I bit my lip – heat radiating off my cheeks as he walked up to me, “And you’re mine.”

“Why didn’t you say anything, before?” He questioned as Natasha walked back over to the SUV.

I wrung my hands together, nervousness taking over my body, “Well, uh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s pretty surreal seeing you in person and not on the news.” I wrapped his hoodie tighter around my body, “Plus, I mean, I thought you were dead my whole life, so I never exactly planned out what I would say the first time I ever met you.”

His face fell, “I’m sorry. I had my whole life before the ice thinking about meeting you, and you spent yours thinking that I was never going to be with you.” He gently grabbed my hand, leaving my other one free so I could hold the umbrella. “I’ve had a whole speech planned since I knew what this tattoo meant, and I’ve forgotten every line.” He chuckled, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m happy to finally meet you, Doll. You’re beautiful.”

I cleared my throat, “You’re not so bad yourself, Captain.” Oh my god, he isn’t disappointed. Thank god.

“You can call me by my name, you know.” He winked, leaning against my dripping car. “So, do you want to go get some coffee, or something?”

“Oh, shoot!” I pulled my hand out of his, and leaned back into my car to grab my phone, “I was on my way to my parents’ house for a birthday that’s supposed to be tomorrow.” I quick texted my mother, letting her know that I was going to be late without going into details. “I would love, some coffee, though.”

He chuckled, running his hand through his wet hair, “Why don’t we leave Natasha with your car, and I’ll take you to your parents’ house? We can stop for coffee on the way?”

“Sure, that sounds lovely.” I was so relieved that he wasn’t disappointed. I had always dreamed of meeting my other half. This was not a dream, this was reality – and I was so ecstatic, I could cry.

Natasha came over, tossing Steve the keys to the SUV and my suitcase from the back seat. “You kids have fun, I’ll have this towed back to the tower. Make Stark pay for it.”

Steve ushered me over to the vehicle, opening my door and taking my umbrella from me. He jogged over to the driver’s side door and closed my umbrella, hopping in and starting up the SUV.

As he pulled back onto the highway, his right hand took hold of my left, “I am really glad I found you, Doll.”

Another blush crept its way over my skin, and I gave his hand a little squeeze, “I’m really glad I found, you, too.”

As we rode, I felt a sense of happiness spread through me. My soulmate had finally found me, and I’d finally found him.

My heart felt complete.

I could finally show my tattoo to the world.

Steven Grant Rogers.

My soulmate.

TAGS: (I do forever tags, whoever wants to join the party!)

@luckynumber1213 @mrsnegan25