that’s what you and I do, protect each other

“That person who helps others simply because it should or must be done, and because it is the right thing to do, is indeed, without a doubt, a real superhero,” - Stan Lee

Fall in Seasons (1)

i. Winter, Avengers Compound, New York

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Holiday parties can be the worst, but the Stark Holiday Party is your favorite, due to the appearance of a certain super soldier. 

Warnings: SPICY MOMENTS! probably language? idk, I have a potty mouth. some may find it angsty? but I don’t think it’s angsty.

a/n: hi, hey, hello. this is the arrival of the first part of my Fall in Seasons series. In case you missed the preview, this lil bad boy is a 4 part series that will go up on the first day of each season. With today being the first day of winter in my neck of the woods, here is part 1! part two will go up in March, so send me a message of you want to get tagged for this series, that way you won’t miss what’s next! okay, PLEASE tell me what you think of the intro because I am curious on what you’re thinking and how you’re feeling. okay, I love you, happy winter, pls enjoy!

You catch his eyes across the room. 

Bright blue eyes track you as you saunter to the bar and order another martini. The bartender prepares it quickly and slides it to you, and you wrap your manicured hands around the glass and pull it towards you. You lift the speared olives from the glass and raise them to your lips, eyes still locked on his. Red painted lips wrap around the olive and pull it off slowly, and he shifts in place, ignoring the conversation around him. Feeling satisfied with yourself, you smirk, before returning the olives to the glass and taking a sip. Your eyes are pulled away from each other as everyone’s favorite billionaire steps on the stage. 

“Happy Holidays, everyone! As you all know…”

As Tony begins his speech, your eyes flash to the super soldier again. His eyes are on stage, watching Tony, and you take a second to admire how he perfectly fills out the dark blue suit that hugs his body. As your eyes rake back up his body, they land on his, and this time he smirks at you. Caught in the act, you blush and turn away, as Tony finishes his speech up front. 

“I can see Pepper glaring at me from the back, and I’m letting you know that I hear you loud and clear, honey!” The crowd laughs, and he gestures to the DJ, “Bring back the music!”

Keep reading

the dark arts are many, varied, ever-changing, and eternal. fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. you are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible.

Are you a ghost? A memory preserved in a diary for 50 years.

The Yule Ball: Happy Holidays from the Wizarding World

It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.

Through The Seasons: First & Last Scenes Clarke Griffin

The Yule Ball: Happy Holidays from the Wizarding World

A woman’s heart is a deep ocean of secrets. But now you know there was a man named Jack Dawson and that he saved me, in every way that a person can be saved. I don’t even have a picture of him. He exists now only in my memory.

Titanic (1997) dir. James Cameron

Gal Gadot as Diana Prince/Wonder Woman in The DC Extended Universe (2016-)

I love genuinely innocent “boys will be boys.” Just saw a guy come out of a frat house to poke a pair of jeans they’d left outside - they were frozen solid, and as soon as he confirmed that, like twenty more boys came rushing out of the house going “YOOOOOOOOOO”

I heard grunting outside my window the other night and there were four boys struggling to push this giant snowball (like 7 foot diameter) down the sidewalk.

I once lost my keys at a frat house.

My drunk ass had actually walked home without them, pounded on my apartment door, gotten let in by my rightfully-disgruntled roommate, and proceeded to pass out on the couch.  Apparently I puked in the toilet before passing out.  I do not remember this part.

The next morning, I schlepped back to the frat house.  I stood there, right in front of the front door.  This was a novel experience for me.  I’d never been at a frat house in broad daylight before.

A boy, presumably, of the house, asked me what I was doing. 

“I lost my keys in here last night,” I called back.  “I was seeing if I could go in and look for them?”

He opened the door and gestured for me to come in.

“Go wherever you want.”

I’d never seen a frat house post-party before.  Wandering up the stairs and through the halls, I was surrounded by hungover and still-drunk frat boys stumbling around in their socks and sandals and gym shorts, seeking out food and showers like moths to a porch light.  A few of them threw puzzled glances my way.  I’m sure they thought I was some post-bacchanalia hallucination.

I entered one room where a boy was drunkenly watching some Old Yeller-esque movie on a tiny TV in the corner of his room from his bed.

“Do you like dog movies?” he asked, voice all mumbly from grogginess and also from the fact that his face was squished against his pillow and half-buried by his blanket.

I told him I did.

He mumbled again, pleased, and asked what I was doing.  I told him I was looking for my keys.

“Sorry, I haven’t seen any keys around here.”

I didn’t doubt him.

Twenty minutes had passed.  I’d searched just about every bedroom and nuclear-waste-dump-site of a bathroom in that house.  I’d given up on ever finding my keys and was prepared to beg my roommates’ forgiveness and get a new set copied.

As I stood there in the hallway, silently bewailing my predicament, a particularly-burly frat boy approached me.

“You need help with something?”

“I lost my keys here last night and I can’t find them, I’ve looked everywhere.”

“What do they look like?  I’ll put it into the group chat.”  He was already pulling out his phone.

No one ever checks a group chat, I thought, but what the hell.  It was worth a shot.  “Um, it’s just a ring of keys.  The keychain is a pink plastic cat, though, like yea big.  Like bright pink, you can’t miss it.”

He nodded, presumably typing this description faithfully into the group chat.

“Alright, I sent the message out.  Good luck.”

And with that, he turned and left.

A few moments later, I heard a distant thundering.  It was coming from upstairs, and it was getting louder and louder.  One assumes that how I felt in that moment was how Simba felt seeing the wildebeest stampede through the ravine as a horde of large young men all thundered down the stairs, making a beeling for me.

“Someone tell the girl!” One of them shouted, faceless in the mob.  “Girl!  Hey, GIRL!!!  We found your keys, girl!!!”

They circled around me.  I hadn’t felt that small since I was maybe eleven years old.  One of them split himself off from the crowd.

“Are these -” he pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket, “your keys?”

And lo, there was the distinctive bright millennial pink cat keychain dangling off the ring.

“Yes,” I whispered.  “Oh my god, yes.”

“EYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!”

The cheer went up.

Turns out he found them in the bathroom upstairs.  I thanked them again profusely.  There was a scattered round of “no problems” and then, just as suddenly as they descended, they all dispersed, like ships in the night.

This thread.  This is what “boys will be boys” really means.

Yes, this, please. Please let us spread the wonderful sweetness that boys can have. It is truly marvelous, and it needs to be acknowledged more, and encouraged.

Literal interpretations of Midsommar aside, one of the core take-aways has to be about how a woman needs female friends to thrive. Despite knowing Christian’s friends for years, Dani is little more than their friend’s girlfriend– a burden to him and therefore a burden to them. There is no connection, nothing further beyond cordial interactions. They don’t even much care about her experiences except that it means that their bro is still trapped. She is apart from them, detatched, cast in shadows. A woman who, from what little we can gather, doesn’t have anyone besides these men who don’t care about her. But the women of Harga embrace Dani, love her, and care about her, give her space to grieve with them. It’s as if they had known her for years rather than days. Of course there’s much to be said about their actual intentions, but every woman knows this experience. That feeling of being cherished and validated more by a random woman you just met in the bathroom at a club, than by the boyfriend and his friends you’ve known forever. Women just need women.

well this truly was A Decade. i loved you. i hated you. goodbye 2010s.

i’m so tired

Nyan cat is that young? I feel like that things been around since 2006.

DAISY RIDLEY photographed by Nicole Nodland for Marie Claire Magazine (2019)

my mom: *makes me wash 1 more dish than my sister* me: i am the backbone of this family u are nothing without me. When I Die. Then U Will Realize

conflict & resolution