Dee | 18 | USA

Bucky and Steve bumping uglies (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ

My AO3

This has since evolved into a multifandom blog specializing in:

Marvel and In The Flesh

Bucky Barnes is my homeboy (☞゚∀゚)☞





My queue runs all day, every day. I usually don't get back from school until after four, so unless it's a text post, it's been queued. I don't have a queue tag, but I'm always available to talk, even if I'm away.

zu genießen

zur zeit


➣In The Flesh
➣Pushing Daisies
➣Game of Thrones


  • tfios
  • the amazing adventures of kavalier and clay
  • newmann fic
  • listening to:

  • panic! at the disco
  • fall out boy
  • playlists
  • writing:

    when i kissed the teacher


    []in []out [◆]semi-hiatus

    was ist los


    I no longer liveblog as vehemently as I used to, but if I do, I'll always make sure to tag. This applies to shows outside of [whatever I am watching enthusiastically as of late] as well as any and all movies.

    Spoilers will be tagged respectively and as:

    • spoilers

    and will continue to be tagged as such for the week of the episode or movie.


    und sachen

    19-20/100 pictures of Arden Cho


    Chris Evans attends the Variety Studio presented by Moroccanoil at Holt Renfrew during the 2014 Toronto International Film Festival on September 5, 2014 in Toronto.

    Sam Claflin photographed by Matthew Brooks for GQ Style [x]





    glacierlake asked: Hey we have matching icons sorta.

    so much aja!clint what a good time

    newt and hermann calling each other “schatz” and “liebste”

    newt and hermann yelling increasingly flattering compliments at each other

    newt and hermann getting caught making out in the chemical shower

    newt and hermann reviewing each other’s work and leaving dumb compliments and smiley faces and nsfw drawings of each other in the margins

    newt and hermann wearing each other’s undies

    newt holding hermann’s hand when he gets his first (and last) tattoo

    hermann doing just the same for newt as he gets his last


    oh hai, bare ass pine



    so my school had this thing called “senior skip day,” except that senior skip day didn’t exist and every year the administration sent out emails in the spring that were like DON’T FUCKIN SKIP CLASS OR YOU WILL RECEIVE RESTRICTION (restriction was like, my boarding school’s equivalent of detention where instead of staying after school you had to go to bed early and help stuff envelopes advertising the summer program until your hands were BLOODIED AND CRIPPLED BY CARPAL TUNNEL) and every year the seniors were like YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!

    • spoiler alert: yes they can? THEY ALWAYS CAN.
    • 200 years of american high school and teenagers still think that there is a cap limit on kids in detention and that you can leave after 15 minutes if the teacher doesn’t show up.

    anyway, my senior year, we all got together and nattered at each other until some brave soldier (i feel like it was my friend paula but WHO KNOWS) was like “OK SENIOR SKIP DAY IS THIS THURSDAY!!!! NOBODY GO TO CLASS OR UR A SCAB.”

    • she didn’t say scab because she’s not from the 1920s and we aren’t newsies, though this story would be way more interesting if we were
    • what she said was “YOLO THEY CAN’T PUNISH ALL OF US!!!!!”
    • except not yolo because it was 2009 and drake hadn’t been invented yet except as a dear sweet boy in a wheelchair.

    we also used this email system to communicate with one another that has very deeply informed the way i understand email and which probably makes it very frustrating to be my friend and receive emails that have subject lines like “URGENT” and then just 42 links to the same florida georgia line youtube video.

    • I’M NOT ASHAMED, but in that way where like i kind of AM ashamed so i’m really aggressively NOT ashamed? 

    so the day of reckoning rolls around and my alarm goes off at 8 (class started at 8:05 but i liked to PLAY WITH FIRE when it came to being late; my mom actually asked the school to stop emailing her when i was a sophomore because i was late so often that their rote “Mrs. Ofgeography we are emailing you to say—” was CLOGGING UP HER INBOX and she was like “i GET IT MY CHILD IS THE MOST BORING MISCREANT OF ALL TIME.”) and i looked at my roommate elle and she looked at me and went, “you going?”

    "hell no," i said. "YOLO. they can’t punish all of us."

    elle, who was far prettier and far cooler than i was with the notable exception of her obsession with tswift’s “love story” and her tendency to look at the endangered species list and cry sometimes during study hall, quickly bizounced across the street to this shopping center thing where all the cool kids smoked in secret where huge trucks dropped off clothes for the Dress Barn. i think there were also tennis courts nearby. more importantly there was this chinese food delivery place and a lil restaurant that made HELLA BAGELS.

    • FUCKIN
    • HELLA.

    off goes elle! meanwhile i’m like, “yessssss i’m gonna use senior skip day to watch 14 hours of tv shows and eat frozen peanut butter bars that i stole from the dining hall! I’M GONNA LIVE LIKE I’M 23 ALONE IN CHICAGO ON A WEEKEND WHEN MY ONLY PLAN IS TAKEOUT AND CUDDLING WITH THE FAUX-SNOW-LEOPARD BLANKET I WILL ONE DAY SURELY OWN.” 

    of course, during this time the administration was continuing to send out emails that reminded us with increasing urgency that senior skip day was NOT A THING and that we were ALL GETTING RESTRICTION if we didn’t get our STUPID ASSES TO CLASS, GODDAMNIT, WE ARE NOT RUNNING A CIRCUS HERE. 

    but i was like! yolo, motherfuckers!!! i already got into college, YOU CAN’T TOUCH ME.

    at some point during the day elle and our friend ginna came back to the room with takeout from the chinese delivery place and we sat on our floor eating it and probably watching veronica mars or looking at the endangered species list and crying.

    all of a sudden, elle said, “guys shut up, guys shut up, GUYS SHUT UP,” and ginna and i were like, “WHAT we have a LOT to SAY about FRIED FUCKING DUMPLINGS, ELLE," and elle said, "did you hear that?"

    "hear what?"


    'that' was the sound of one of our dorm moms, mrs. f, knocking on doors and saying things like, “IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR BUTTS TO CLASS IN 5 MINUTES YOU'RE ON CATEGORY 4 RESTRICTION FOREVER.” elle quickly scampered up our raised beds to hide in the corner, where a tiny human like elle could actually hide from view; i leapt immediately into what we called a closet but was basically a cubby with a flap that was DEFINITELY not meant for a 5'8” individual with knobby as hell knees.

    our door, which was never locked because we both hated the effort of typing in the lock code, opened. mrs. f said, “mollyhall?”

    i held my breath. 

    • i should add here that i seemed to be operating on like a scooby-doo level of logic where basically i thought that she was somehow NOT ALLOWED to investigate?
    • like, if she can’t see me, there is NO POSSIBLE WAY that she could prove i’m in here, right?
    • she’ll just poke her head in and be like oH GOSH NO KIDS HERE and leave!!

    you can see the flaw in my logic.

    mrs. f sighed. “mollyhall, i know you’re in here, i literally heard your voice ten seconds ago.”

    • there’s no WAY she guesses i’m in the closet!!!

    "mollyhall, i know you’re in the closet."

    • NO YOU DON’T


    there was a creak. mrs. f stopped. it wasn’t actually a “creak,” so much as this like, prolonged groan? like it’s the sound an elephant would make if it sat on a really large accordion.

    i poked my head out of the closet. mrs. f looked at me. elle sat up.

    i said, “where’s ginna?”


    "um," said elle, "she’s in the—"

    • GINNA NO

    ginna yes.

    i really wish i could describe the sound the ceiling made when it collapsed. it sounded a lot like the way losing your breath feels. i sort of remember ginna falling in like, really slow motion, like i could see the expression on her face. i didn’t really think about how i would describe this in words. ginna’s face said:

    • oh no.
    • what have i done?
    • this was a mistake. 
    • i regret a series of decisions that i have made.
    • is there a way out of this?
    • are those oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
    • why are there oreos under mollyhall’s pillow?
    • mollyhall, you HAVE a food cupboard, what good is a food cupboard if you don’t—
    • oh, crap.

    she belly flopped onto the floor. i mean, the girl bounced. and then she just laid there. mrs. f looked at her. elle looked at her. i looked at her, still mostly in the closet. we were all going to get category 4 restriction forever.

    ginna said, “hi, mrs. f. i feel like i should explain.”

    okay i’m gonna do it

    send in fic requests for newmann and newmann alone

    captivedean asked: just wanted to let you know how ok I am with this newt x hermann spam you got going... thank you, friend, for this adorable addition to my afternoon! 😊

    no problem bud


    but who doesn’t want luminescent scientists burning up in brainfire floating around their blog I mean come on


    my newt x hermann organised crime!AU

    Hermann and Newt work in the same crime syndicate- Hermann as manager of financial operations and Newt as a lab tech in synthesis 

    angst but also reallly fluffyy moments gahH

    hhere is a NSFW pic hahah



    My only old age headcanon is 



    20 . 09 . 14 NO  newmann  fanart    +330