Damn - Could They Not Just Have Said Either:

the three genders are girl, bestie, and king

“If I can get them to this place where their relationship and that romance is central to the plot, and it can’t be removed, can’t be noted-out or it can’t be something that’s cut later, then they’ll have to let me do it”

NOELLE STEVENSON HAS THE BIGGEST BDE IVE EVER FUCKIN SEEN

The current random brain worm is if Logan found an abandoned fawn in the woods and just raised it and named him Sue like the Johnny Cash song… i’ve been making it my warm ups.

And like what if I made a whole story about that instead of his man pain? Fucking what then??

who else wants to be sent away to a boarding school so they can meet a mysterious girl who writes poetry and smokes cigarettes and fall in love with her

Some days he misses the Commander so much, death is calling his name, whispering it in his head like relief, crawling out of the darkest parts of his brain.

The brain that is left, the one that might've taken too many shocks, too much electricity, too much brainwashing and all that is left is the ruins, the forgotten and decayed city that is left of what was once James Barnes.

People call him all types of things. War hero. Sergeant. An honorable veteran. A staring machine. A friend even. None of those things feel like him.

He rejects it violently and neither Sam, nor his therapist or the wakandans ever even caught a glimpse. Because how could they? They all assume that's what he wants to be, even if right now he does not see himself as any of it.

What they don't know, what haunts him every night, is the Commander' touch on his clammy neck, his rough voice in his ear, sharp tang of blood and sweat and sex, his own screams and moans echoing in his skull and a deep emptiness aching inside of him.

The dreams never stop.

The longing never stops.

Longing.

Ironic isn't it, he thinks with a bitter smile.

He would give anything to be able to be his Commander's Soldier again. To go back to the ease and the clarity and the pain. The painful lust that turns into floating bliss and soft whispers, his reward for being good.

He will never get a reward again. He will never be able to please anyone again, because no one uses him anymore, like he was meant to. His purpose is gone. And so is the man that gave it to him.

The dread and panic spills out of him violently when he heaves over the toilet in the middle of the night.

The Commander is dead. He will not come back for him. He will never be able to be himself again.

It's a life sentence. A sentence he is not sure he can endure, not knowing how long it will be, because he is not human, not anymore. He is what they made him and he is out of time, out of place, out of control.

He fears it will take forever.

And his nights feel endless as he sits with the painful longing, cold sweat on his body, as the ghost of his Commander's voice joins his scrambled thoughts.

Memories.

He sobs.

He doesn't stop until the sun comes up.

I might see the sun today?!!

Like actual sunshine?!?!

Weather forecast you better not be lying

Same

lydia: are you okay?

stiles: no, i'm not. can we please change the subject before i start crying?

sure I could become a slut. but you see, I'm scared