• home slice
• you with the face
• love/my love
• lil bit
• your highness
• supreme being
• old sport
• foolish mortal
• o Smaug, chiefest and greatest of calamities
• insufferable know-it-all
• foul, loathsome, evil little cockroach
i’ve seen two variations of possible carey and killian bouquet toss shenanigans- one that involves taako going all the fuck out to catch that bouquet and one that involves him and lup fighting tooth and nail over the damn thing because they both want to marry their boyfriends. i would like to add a third option for your consideration:
two brides. two bouquets. two twins.
no one has to leave empty handed, and no one is going to.
you see, lup and taako have been anticipating this bouquet toss for months. they have planned for this. these elves are out for metaphorical blood, and nothing up to and including another apocalypse is going to stop them from getting their mitts on those flowers, because they have an agreement. a promise they made to each other over a century and a half ago, when they were just kids fighting for survival in their homeworld. they’d promised one another that neither of them would ever get married unless (unless) they were able to do so together in a fucking sweet-ass garish and well-catered double wedding.
which, of course, is why barry and lup never tied the knot properly in the, what like sixty-someodd years since they made things fantasy facebook official? she wasn’t gonna get hitched unless her brother was doing it too. except now, now that taako has found his bliss with ghost rider? everything is fair game and marriage is absolutely on the table. which makes it the most important thing in the world that they both get their hands on a bouquet at carey and killian’s wedding, by any and all means necessary. so they plan. they scope out the temple months beforehand under the guise of, i dunno, menu planning or some shit like that? but they’re actually just getting a read on the lay of the land, where the toss will take place, how they can use the environment to their advantage.
they track davenport down, using the postcards he sends them to anticipate his movements, find him docked in a lively port town and ask him to give them pointers on illusory magic. they know they’re good enough at it, but he’s the best, and they need to learn from the best to pull this off. dav’s a little… concerned, because the twins won’t tell him why they’re asking for tips, but they say they don’t want to implicate him as an accomplice in anything, and he’s known these two long enough to be sure he really doesn’t want to know what they’re planning.
the day of the wedding comes and it’s a fucking beautiful ceremony, not a dry eye in the room by the end of it. the reception goes off without a hitch, dinner’s a hit, and then it’s time for the bouquet toss. there is a large-ish crowd gathered on the dancefloor, and carey and killian are standing on chairs, backs to the crowd and each holding a bouquet. taako and lup are waiting near the back of the crowd. everyone cheerfully counts down “three! two! one!” and then, just as the brides toss their bouquets over their shoulders, lup’s wand twitches in her hand and there’s a loud explosion outside.
everyone turns to look out the window, concerned, and that’s when taako strikes, brandishing the krebstar and producing an illusion of about fifty bouquets, all soaring through the air at once. only the twins, who had been watching closely the whole time, know which two are the real ones. lup runs across the dancefloor at taako, who tosses her up above the crowd where, in true flipwizard style, she snatches her bouquet out of the air and lands on her feet with an acrobatic flourish. taako, having boosted his sister up, now zeroes in on his own bouquet, which is hurtling towards the ground. he runs toward it and, just when it seems like he’s not going to make it before it hits the floor, he drops down and knee slides the final few feet, bending backward as he goes and catching it gracefully at the last moment.
this all takes place over the span of about two and a half seconds, and at the end of it all, when the metaphorical dust has settled, all that’s left is about seventy confused wedding guests, two elves grinning smugly and high-fiving with bouquets in their hands, and barry and kravitz sitting at their table looking equal parts stunned, impressed, and smitten with their respective SOs.
basically, tl;dr, why have the twins fight when they could just as easily work together and pull of some dope-ass feat of awesomeness?
Headcanons focusing on the delightful Protective!Winter Soldier and kid!Tony/deaged!Tony dynamic that needs to be written way more often. You’re welcome.
tiny!Tony being absolutely fascinated with the metal arm and treating it like his favourite stuffed animal, always cuddling with it when he needs comfort, petting it, talking with it and insisting it gets goodnight kisses. tiny!Tony’s the only one allowed to touch it because he has The Pout and Bucky never stood a chance. (Seeing an adorable, small child showering his arm with love may or may not help Bucky accept the metal arm as something more than a killer tool HYDRA bestowed on him.)
tiny!Tony shocking everyone when he twists his attackers’ right hand to get out of their hold. tiny!Tony then promptly turning around and breaking their left one as well, causing Captain America to ask with a disapproving look if that was really necessary. tiny!Tony not being impressed at all because “everyone is ambidextrous until proven otherwise, don’t you know that?”. (The Winter Soldier standing right behind tiny!Tony, puffed up like the world’s proudest mom because that’s his boy.) (Steve pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance because no, Clint, leaving an impressionable Tony with a brainwashed assassin does not count as adult supervision.)
A concerned Pepper taking tiny!Tony aside and explaining how it’s important for people’s mental health and development to have friends their own ages. tiny!Tony taking her very seriously while simultaneously missing the point completely and immediately setting up playdates for the Winter Soldier at a local retirement home.
tiny!Tony being banned from the coms during Avenger missions (he watches them fight safely from inside the Tower of course) because whenever he becomes excited about a trick one of them performs the Winter Soldier gets jealous and pulls an even more showy/dangerous/impressive/reckless move. Nobody is allowed to be tiny!Tony’s Most Awesome Person Ever except for him.
tiny!Tony discovering through a gossip magazine that he and Pepper used to be a thing, plus speculation that they’re secretly planning their runaway wedding. tiny!Tony consequently inviting Pepper over and sitting her down to explain in a very grave voice that she’s really pretty and her high heels are scary and she’s awesome with a nerf gun but he can’t marry her despite all that because married people share everything and he won’t share his Bucky. (On a completely unrelated note Steve finds himself locked out of Bucky’s room and on a more memorable occasion the entire Tower with alarming regularity.)
The team taking their responsibility of caring for tiny!Tony very seriously, including: Bruce child-proofing and Tony-proofing the kitchen, the living quarters and bedrooms, Natasha reading parenting books and traumatising the SHIELD junior agents while she is at it, Sam buying child (genius) appropriate movies, games and toys and Steve working with Pepper on schemes to keep the public from finding out what’s happened. Meanwhile Tony and his assassin babysitter proceeding to start the Most Epic Very Explosive Possibly Last Ever experiment in Tony’s workshop that everyone just assumed JARVIS would put into lockdown…
Steve and Sam taking the Winter Soldier (who still has trouble understanding social norms, cues and interactions) aside to delicately explain that tiny!Tony is not to be treated like adult!Tony and how it’s important to account for this difference at all times. The Winter Soldier signalling his understanding and acceptance of the newly adjusted mission parameters, then proceeding to drag a curious tiny!Tony to the armoury to familiarise himself with any and all weapons he can efficiently use with his current size and weight.
The Winter Soldier is on babysitter duty, and he knows - Captain Rogers explained it five times - that it’s important for tiny!Tony to tire himself out before bedtime. The Winter Soldier does the obvious, age appropriate thing: he puts tiny!Tony through the average Red Room trainee routine every evening for a couple of hours. Several weeks go by and suddenly the Avengers have to deal with a tiny!Tony ninja. The team is not impressed.
Bucky and tiny!Tony being alone at the Tower when something triggers the Winter Soldier. tiny!Tony being completely unaware, not even noticing the change. tiny!Tony taking everything the Winter Soldier does as a game or a joke. Or maybe he thinks this is another one of those In Case You Get Kidnapped training simulations a certain paranoid Bucky has been known to put him through.
Aries: I envy you. I envy your courage, your stupidity and your childishness. Maybe you’re asking “Why?” Well, wouldn’t it be beautiful if we were all children at heart, like you? Like seeing things so horrible yet still making corny jokes? Like telling your feelings, like running until your feet hurt? Like purity, like innocence mixed with knowledge? You have experienced the world, you have experienced life. And yet, you still stand here. Brave and tall. As if to say “I am not afraid of life. I am not afraid to live.”
Taurus: I will always associate you with flowers and colours. With lilies and roses and blood oranges. I will always associate you with fruit and red-green-yellow. We will speak in colours, talk in words others won’t understand. With red-pink sand and blue-green eyes. An encouraging nod, a hug with clasping hands. Words left unspoken simply ‘cause they were never meant to be said, they were meant to be. They were meant to be. Plucking petals like a grade schooler playing games about love. Holding a magnifying glass over your head, and I could not find a flaw. I just saw you. I saw you.
Gemini: While you drink in the melodies of everyone’s laughter the ghosts find a new home inside your body. A facade of performance, masking out your true emotions. While the hallways turn vacant and your ghosts shut the doors. The voices leave the room empty, the emptiness in your chest weighing like a brick worth thousands of diamonds. I cannot put a price on your heart, I don’t know its colours. I don’t know its voice. Or the three albums you have on repeat over the summer, or the songs you dance to at night. Simply because you are you, unique, mysterious and beautiful.
Cancer: You are a puzzle and I am not your missing piece, I don’t own it. But you do. You make up your own being. Maybe you left it in your back pocket, next to the shattered dreams or under the pillars you build when you were eight years old. The ones you made to put your broken home on, searching for stability in broken mirrors. I will linger in my map of you and I swear that even when I get back it leads back to you. It always leads back to you. To that little house with orange paint on the walls from ten years ago. With the nicotine sticking to a once white ceiling and some kind of animals running around. The dusty photographs will still stand on the desk. You will still sit on that one spot, with teary eyes and crossed legs. And you will still be beautiful.
Leo: I could never describe your beauty. Your beauty cannot be multiplied, it can only be remembered, treasured, envied, appreciated or regretted. And by remembered I mean that when you feel like you are just another extra in someone’s life that they will mention you to their parents during dinner. They will talk about your shining personality and sparkling eyes. By treasured I am talking about that “the one” experience which you deserve. A treasure filled with all things unique and irreplaceable. One that’s filled with happiness. By envied I am talking about the eyes you do not see, or do not wish to see. Or don’t notice. You stand out in a crowd, especially when you don’t think you are. By appreciated I am talking about the ones who see your true you, your tangled hair and cracked lips. The ones who still stay even through the bad times. By regretted I am talking about the people who did not see your beauty until you blossomed. I understand why you find cocoons beautiful now, and how you like caterpillars just as much as butterflies.
Virgo: Snow litters on untouched skin. Sun rains through the cracks of the darkness even where you hide. I could hear you talking every day. Forever. With delicate fingers and blushed cheeks. Your hair untamed and your fingers bruised to the bone. Delicately logical. The edges of the leafs of oak trees remind me of your way of thinking. The overhang reminds me of your mind. Which casts shadows over the villagers in the houses you build where colourless souls reside. You are so often in debate with your own head, at war with your own body. Never at peace, always restless. Always asking, “but why?” I don’t know. You like it, don’t you? Parading around in your own world? Sweet little soul in a world full of pain.
Libra: The bell of the church echoed through your head a little longer than it should’ve. It never was nice. We never played nice. We talked until our lips were dry and I stayed home when you were out cold. But memories don’t matter anymore do they darling? In this orchestra of harmonious noises where you are the leader of everything nothing can hurt you. I don’t know, I don’t know. And goddamnit I know you will try to push everything on yourself again. You always do. That’s just how you work. Why don’t you warm your hands on your own body for once? You don’t need another person to feel like you’re loved, you only need one. One whole, full, true person.
Scorpio: Everything seems darker these days. Charcoal coloured clouds are a daily thing. And your arms are always covered up along with your legs. Even in the summer the nights don’t seem as enchanting. Not when small bruises shaped like the bumps of your knuckles litter on your thighs. Self destructive lullabies, “I just need a friend, for once in my life.” A desire for someone to stay ripped from your lips. So I stayed by your side wondering, if you wanted me to stay or needed me to stay. Of course I could say you remind me of scarlet blood and bathroom tiles. But you also remind of the river I used to play in when I was nine. You also remind me of the necklace I got when my grandmother passed away. You remind me of memories, the good, the bad, the in-between. You remind me of life. Please keep on living.
Sagittarius: The reason that I didn’t cry when you left was because crying means letting go, or so you said. And I don’t want to let you go. I want you to be a part of me, forever. But I can’t do that, you would rot in the hell hole that is my mind. I can’t put you through more cruelty. I hate how I am the reason you cry on bad nights, do you still wonder if I miss you? I do. I do. I do. Regret was stronger than appreciation. But you’re so fucking strong. Your eyes still shine even when you’re sad. You think no one likes you yet you know that’s not true. You’re the reason I am alive. You let me experience pain, beauty, emotion. You let me live. You’re so much more than enough, sometimes I can’t even handle who you are. You are dazzling. But you could never control your heart, it always wandered over the streets of other people’s bodies.
Capricorn: When the sun sets over mountains and the houses made of glass shatter I will still see your name in the sky in neon lights. The little bugs in our home always wanted to be friends with you. They always sat on the tip of your nose with gentle smiles. I never envied you, I wish I treasured you. You are so simplistic and nice. Nice. Too underrated for your own good, no? Aren’t we all. Your hands will still be remembered by those you touched. You always leave some kind of mark that they don’t want to wash off. You have that affect on people. You make them drown their thoughts and hold their breath when you walk into a room. You are an old soul, but you know that. Why? You just do. Because you’re you. And nothing can change that or the late nights, the slowness or the fastness in your walk doesn’t matter for the right people. They will walk for you until they have blathers on their toes. If they don’t you know what to do.
Aquarius: Swirls of icy wind are always your accomplice. You’re cold, and beautiful; like snow. The wires always stick to your senses, they get stuck in between your backbone. They twist around your spine and plug into the back of your brain. You let other people control you like you’re a mindless puppet. I think the wires got the best of you. Whenever you speak your mind it says something beautiful and unique. You are original, not ordinary. I am sorry they teach you that being unique is bad and that you have to fit into this ‘ordinary’ world as an ‘ordinary’ person. Nothing is ordinary about you, not even your name. Your name says who you are as a person, if someone asks me to define you I will simply say your name, the definition of your personality is your name. Because your name is unique and so is your personality. Don’t let other people control you.
Pisces: The imaginary butterflies with the raven black wings told me about you. They tell me that your head is in a universe they have never seen, with all things beautiful and all things bad. They see you crying with your knees tugged up sometimes, hands in your hair as you hide beneath sheets of darkness. You write poetry with the blood in the sink and make galaxies with the stars you find inside other people their eyes. A gentle smile always embraces your lips, “So happy, yet so sad” they say. A mask is something you believe is beautiful, but I believe you are beautiful. The real you. Not the you who cautiously walks over this realm of sadness. Your moonlit hair is so silky, your sunlit eyes are so sad. Chin up little soldier.
Melania Trump—who is supposedly a spokesperson against cyber bullying—DEFENDED her husband’s misogynistic Twitter tirade that targeted Mika Brzezinski. Please remember that the next time you’re tempted to treat Melania like she’s an innocent hostage of Donald Trump.
Melania and Ivanka are not innocent bystanders to Trump’s dangerous agenda. They’re very active accomplices, who repeatedly cosign or excuse Trump’s behavior. Hold them accountable like any other Trump supporter or cabinet member. Don’t give them a hall pass. Make them own that shit.