If I see another 'you me her' post tagged with lesbians I'm going to scream.
They’re fucking Bi!
Stop fucking ignoring the Bi community because you want more representation.
You know the only other Bi females OUT in the media that I can think of?
Sarah Lance and HarleyQuinn!
I get it, you’re starved of representation and looking for it everywhere.
And I know Jack is coming off as an ass but I honestly see it as realistic of someone who’s insecure and just found poly, you know why, because I’m at that point where I’ve now dated multiple people who are new to poly and they struggle with it, I’ve been poly for years now and I struggle with it.
Jealousy and coming out and finding a balance and working out communication is scary sometimes, especially when it’s new, especially when society tells you to deal with it differently to how’s actually healthy.
And I get pissed when you act like he’s just being an asshole, because yes he needs to grow the fuck up, but life change is scary and they’re working on it and that’s fucking important.
Do you realise how badly we needed this polyamorous model? Not of a happy and perfect polyam fam… but of a struggling, new to it, bunch of consenting adults.
That’s important and it’s helpful and you’ve got to stop pretending they’re not bi and he’s not insecure and new to this and that they’re all not insecure and new to this. Because I was nervous as hell and I knew I wanted poly with all my heart.
Just stop freaking ignoring this shit because it’s not perfect.
Especially if you’re not bi or poly and looking at this from a purely straight/gay monogamous standpoint.
I’m naturally polyamorous, it completes me in a way nothing else does and I wouldn’t give it up for the world. And me and some of my partners/potential parents/ex’s were insecure people and acted like twats at times because we didn’t know how to handle that and it’s a learning process, something I learned off older polyamorous people in the community, some of which have been polyamorous advocates since the early 90’s and have grandkids, others who are in their late 40’s, 30’s, early 20’s, 50's… they taught me how to see my jealousy and envy was based off my own insecurities and how to communicate and find solutions.
These three don’t even HAVE that, they’re seeing someone tho and that’s important.
I know this is a massive tangent about fandom discourse and reality, but still, I had two points:
1. Stop calling Emma and Izzy Lesbians, they’re Bi, it’s like if I called you a phase, it’s an insult and I will continue to be insulted by it because I’m sick of my identity being ignored.
2. Stop being pissy at the fact they’re being displayed as not perfect and as insecure and jealous and that they haven’t learned everything that it takes polycules years to learn anyway.
Request: Taehyung fluff where you guys are both in college and Taehyung sits behind you in class but never says anything, but one day he sees u dozing off in class and he decides to buy coffee after class
A/n: So I was planning a one shot, but you guys asked for a mini-series instead, and I’m such a hoe for Taehyung anyways. most of the request is in this chapter, but I have plans you guys… stick around -Kaitlin
Genre: Fluff Members: Taehyung x Reader Word Count: 1219
Fkffkgdb Jim sexting is just too much because you know he’s such a romantic. at first he’d be straight up Song of Solomon'ing it all vivid comparative imagery and nature metaphors. And spock is like “that’s beautiful jim,” but nothing else and jim would be like tae fuck i worked hard on those Kahlil gibran references?? U KNOW WHAT and just sends straight up the raunchiest fuckendkdmdhh porno sext and five mins later Spock is busting in the room like I LEFT SOME PERSON AT THE CON I DO NOT KNOW WHO PLEASE PROCEED WITH THE ACTIONS OUTLINED IN YOUR TEXT
Regardless of the why you are crying, Seokjin would be really incredible at being by your side and cheering you up. He’d be be by your side as you cried and would rub your back or hug you depending on how you felt. When your tears slowed he would ask you what was wrong, keeping in mind not to push you to tell him. He would listen to you for as long as you wanted. The input he would give you would only be at your own emotions benefit and would never make you feel worse by telling you that your emotions were idiotic. From there, he would at your leg and ask you to follow him into the kitchen. He would then proceed to make you and meal you wanted and would happily eat it with you while watching a feel good movie. Overall, he would be the perfect gentleman (and boyfriend).
“Jagi?” He spoke when you’re crying was replaced with sniffles. “Do you want to talk about what’s wrong?” You shook your head no and he nodded before smiling. “Well then, I’ll have to cheer you up another way. What do you want to eat? Black bean noodles? Tofu curry?” The smile wouldn’t leave his face as he worked his hardest to cook you a meal full of love. “Let’s watch a movie now, okay?”
In reality, Yoongi would be cautious when he saw you crying. In no way did he want to upset you anymore and he also knew that this would most likely leave him with a better understanding of who you are. He would not want to make any mistakes and that would make him seem a little distant. However, if you asked him why he was so awkward and said that you needed a hug, he would give you one and e hit with the reality that he isn’t supposed to not upset, but make you feel better. He’d be the best at listening to your problems, but also knowing you might want to not talk or be alone. Overall, Yoongi would be very understanding of your choices while upset, but cautious and nervous on how she should act while you did so.
His hand lightly patted your down turned head. Currently, you were crying into your hands and Yoongi was sitting by your side. In no way did he knew how to act. His body was awkward and even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell. “Yoongi-ah,” you looked up at him. “Why won’t you hug be, jeez!” His eyes widened and he immediately moved closer to you. He hugged you and laughed. He responded, “Even in the middle of all these tears, you still find a way to nag me.” The response would have you lightly hitting his shoulder, bug he wouldn’t care because he knew he took away your sad thoughts.
There are two ways that Hoseok could respond. Most likely and most often, he would do everything he could to make you feel better. He would ask you over and over if you need anything and would speak more than you. His words would be in order to calm you as he pulled you into a hug and pet your hair. You would most likely be in this position for a half hour. The other way Hoseok would ask is crying with you. This would only happen if you were in pain, whether it be heartbreak or a broken arm. Hearing to scream and cry would be too much for him and he would burst into tears while hugging you. In that scenario, not words would be spoken until both of you were done crying.
“Aigoo! Aigoo! Why are you crying? Ah, come here,” Hoseok said as he pulled you into his arms. “Do you need anything? Water? Food? A blanket?” You shook your head. “Ah, then I guess you just need kisses!” Hoseok laughed and began kissing everywhere, but your lips. When he had finished kissing our face, he would begin speaking again. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to be distracted?” During all of your talking, his arms would always be wrapped around you and he would be willing to do anything to make you feel better.
Namjoon would be incredibly worried and would rush to your side. However, when he sat down next to you, he wouldn’t know what to do. Essentially, you were a bomb and he was the diffuser. Anything he did could trigger you and make you cry even more, but he still needed to do something, anything. His ultimate goal would to comfort you and get you to talk about your problems because it was the best thing to do for him. Every now and then, as you talked about what plagued your thoughts, he would ask you a question that could potentially help your problem, but he would never insist solutions, knowing full well that simply talking about your problem is best for now until you calm down. Overall, he would be next to you as long as you needed him.
His hand settled on your back, but he stayed quiet. Eventually, you naturally started talking about what happened and Namjoon listened. Nothing else crossed his mind as he listened to your voice talk. He carefully processed every word you said and made sure to contemplate every response you had. Eventually, he would hug you and suggest something to help get your mind off of the problem. It was something he knew you would enjoy and find only joy in. He would be close to you and would only leave your side if you wanted.
Jimin would be rather worried, but confused as to how to react. He didn’t know what would be the best thing to do, but the idea of leaving you alone killed him. Seeing you cry killed him. Eventually, Jimin wouldn’t be able to take it any longer and would rus to your side and hug you. He wouldn’t insist you do anything, but would make sure you knew that he was there for you. Overall, his mentality would be to put your first and do anything you wanted him to. Whether that be listen to you talk or go out to buy you chocolates he didn’t care.
“Jagi?” Jimin said when he walked into your room to see you in tears. You looked up and offered him a pitiful smile. There was only silence while Jimin contemplated what to do. Finally, he moved to your side and hugged you. “You don’t have to talk. Do whatever you want,” He spoke, his voice quiet and dripping with care. His body provided warmth and would give you a comforting awareness that someone was there for you. After your tears died down, he spoke up again, “I will do anything for you, Jagi, just say the word. Anything to make you feel better.” Instantly, you would be incredibly aware of how much care Jimin had for you.
Taehyung would try so hard to make you laugh. He knew very well that going up to you and pulling a comedy show would be insensitive, but he also knew that he wanted to see your gorgeous smile. The result of that combination would be him listening and comforting you , but ultimately cracking a joke at the perfect time to make you laugh. He would then spend the night with you, listening to you talk about everything that was wrong and making jokes to cheer you up. The night would include snacks and cute cuddles and you eventually realizing that you forgot all of your problems.
When Taehyung came upon you crying, he immediately rushed over to your side. He proceeded to cuddle you in an attempt to show you he cared. His mind raced with ideas of what to do and the thought of getting snacks came across his mind, but he also didn’t want to leave your side. When you began to talk about what happened, Taehyung made sure to listen to you and hold on tighter to you when you seemed to get choked up. When you finished, Taehyung smiled and spoke “Just a sec, Jagi.” He then got up and eventually waddled back to you with snacks in his arms. “Sweets for my sweet.” He sat down next you and you pulled up a bag of chips. “Tae, these are salt and vinegar chips, they’re not sweet.”
Jungkook would be stunned by your tears and would be so worried that he could somehow make it worse. This tiny child would be wide eyed when he saw you crying and would end up standing still, looking at you. Eventually, Jungkook would move because the sight of you crying was too much. He would move to sit next to you and hug you. His hand would be petting your head and his warm body would calm you. Jungkook would end up staying quiet, not because he thought it was the best, but because he didn’t know what to say.
Jungkook was a little more than stunned when he left his room to see you crying on the couch. Your head was in your hands, but he could still see your red face. He didn’t know how much time passed, but he knew that he had to actually move and calm you in some way. Your face was so sad and melancholy that his instinct was to hug you. So, that’s what he did. He hugged you tightly, trying to calm you in any way he could. In his mind, all he wanted was your happiness. He didn’t know what to do, but he did know that he would remember this moment for if it ever happened again. Although Jungkook never wanted to see you crying ever again.
An ask made me realize this still doesn’t seem to be conveniently available anywhere, so Warren Ellis on Superman and Lois Lane circa 1998 (with some pictures thrown in by me):
WHY THEY’LL NEVER LET ME WRITE
Brief, Disconnected Notes On An
American Mythology—Warren Ellis
I’m not a superhero fan. I had to learn
the subgenre when I began writing for the States. I’ve had to learn to read
them. Now, I can appreciate some of them. Not many, it has to be said…but
The one I always wanted to like was
Superman is a uniquely American icon,
and the first true myth of the electronic age. One special facet to it is that
it began as a myth told to children by children. Jerry Siegel and Joe Schuster
were youths when they created Superman, a far cry from today’s handful of
twentysomethings and carloads of middle-aged men who give today’s children
(Perhaps this is why, to me, a
strong adult story told with Superman would seem curiously inappropriate –
and, conversely, the 20th Century social nightmare given inky form that is The
Batman seems to me strangely inappropriate as figure of children’s tales.)
Superman, then, is the agent of
modern fable – the most compelling fable the 20th Century gave us. Soap opera
is unworthy of him, and, as has been proved many times, is not big enough to
contain him and the central concepts of his story. At the heart of myth and legend
is Romance. That is not the same as the weak, whiny demands of soap opera that
begin with “characterization” and crap on with demands for ever more
levels of “conflict”, “jeopardy”, “ensemble
writing”, “tight continuity” and all the rest of that bollocks.
These things are unimportant. Many of them just completely get in the way of
the job at hand.
SUPERMAN requires only the sweep
and invention and vision that myth demands, and the artistry and directness and
clean hands that Romance requires.
SUPERMAN is about someone trying their
best to save the world, one day at a time; and it’s about that person’s love
for that one whose intellect and emotion and sheer bloody humanity completes
him. It’s about Superman, and it’s about Lois and Clark. And that’s all there
is. That’s the spine. That must be protected to the death, not lost in a
cannonade succession of continuing stories.
That’s what, in the continuing rush
to top the last plotline, I see getting lost.
I understand, accept and even to an
extent agree with what’s going on; The SUPERMAN creators are trying to keep the
books vital, keep them moving, keep those sales spikes coming. But they seem to
me to be getting away from the sheer wonder of the Superman myth.
(The single title that does seem to
be hewing to the line I’ve just scratched in the sand is Mark Millar’s charming
and energetic SUPERMAN ADVENTURES.)
What SUPERMAN must avoid is genericism.
It must live up to its billing. The comics must crackle with invention and mythic
power. They must always resolutely be of
Now, be utterly modern – if not utterly of Tomorrow. They must thrill and
frighten and inspire and give us furiously to think.
Crucially, they must not simply offer
us a parade of costumes and odd single name/titles. There must be stories where
something important is at stake. Something worth saving, be it the life of a
human, the soul of a city, the fate of a world, or the future of a child.
Mike Carlin always characterizes
the ongoing thrust of the Superman titles as the “Never-Ending
Battle”. Those battles must have stakes beyond those of smacking about this
month’s new costume with an odd name.
(Superman tackles natural disaster
and human crime. It’s his belief that nothing else falls within his purview. War
and the politics of famine, he feels, are part of human government, and so not
his place. He will not interfere in the growth of the human race, as much as it
sometimes breaks his heart.
He merely, obliviously, shows the
human race, by example, how to be great.)
6 Simple Ways to Make Your First Sugar Date the Best He’s Ever Had
Any POT might have been on dozens of dates with young, attractive women before he meets you. So you want to take full advantage of you first sugar date with a POT to make yourself stand heads and shoulders above the competition.
Here are 6 simple ways guaranteed to make it the best sugar date he’s ever had:
1. Channel a Mood
Ever notice how you could have a relentlessly long day at work, be absolutely pooped and then hear a favorite, upbeat song on the radio and instantly be in the mood to go paint the town red?
Or how ’bout when you’re rushing through your day, from one appointment to the next and you catch a whiff of a delectable scent that instantly takes you back to a sweet, not-yet-forgotten memory?
All of us have experienced this ability to instantly transform our mood. The smallest things can do it – a song, a scent, and even lingering on a memory.
We love taking advantage of this awesome ability we all have right before a sugar date. It doesn’t take long – you can do it just a few minutes before you meet the POT.
Here’s how: Before entering the meeting place, find a quiet place and choose a favorite memory – select one that’s fun, funny, outrageous, something that still makes you laugh and fills you with confidence. Now hold that memory ’til you are feeling the fun, lighthearted mood of that memory…and then walk in and introduce yourself to the POT.
Moods communicate – sometimes better than words – and you’ll be guaranteeing that his very first impression of you is one of absolute delight.
2. Arrange an Unusual Dinner or Event
Fun circumstances create fun memories. And fun memories tend to linger in a SD’s mind. So how do you create these fun memories?
The easiest way is to set unusual circumstances. Unusual things take us out of our comfort zones. They cause us to – if only just for a moment – see the world through slightly different eyes.They differentiate themselves from the minutiae of everyday life and as such, are easily remembered and not-so-easily forgotten. And they also have the effect of making us feel closer to the person we’re sharing the moment with.
All of these reasons are why we’ll always choose a slightly unusual setting for first sugar dates. It’s almost a guarantee that you’ll make yourself stand out among the other sugar dates he’s had and have a uniquely memorable time together. Not to mention – every time he thinks of that unusual experience, he’ll remember who he had it with.
So what sort of unusual circumstances should you aim for?
It doesn’t have to be extravagant – there’s no need for trapeze artists searing banana flambe with their toes. Just a simple twist on the usual. Here are some suggestions:
There are so, so many upscale restaurants. He’s been to them all. Why not suggest a cuisine he’s probably never tried? Like…maybe something you guys can eat with your hands? Ethiopian food is superb, can be eaten with your hands, and provides plenty of things to talk about.
Somewhere with belly dancers is always fun. The presence of curvacious women swinging their hips through tables heaped with food lends an atmosphere of sensuality that’s not easily forgotten.
Human sushi platter, anyone? Sushi restaurants serving their sushi atop naked women are far and few – and guaranteed to be a very memorable experience. Oh, and the natural sweat of the human body is meant to lend the sushi a unique flavor. You’ll never know if it’s true ’til you try it
3. Be Genuinely Curious
Isn’t it a lovely feeling when you know that someone is genuinely interested in knowing more about you as a person? SDs love this, too.
For the duration of the date, make him feel like the center of your attention.
You can do this simply by asking questions. Lots of questions. But…they have to be open-ended, thought-provoking questions.
Avoid typical, small-talk, dead-end questions like: “What do you do for work?” or “Where do you work?”
And go for open-ended, thought-provoking questions like: “Why’d you decide to start your own business?” or “Was becoming a lawyer your childhood dream? Oh, what was your childhood dream?” or “So…what do you want to be when you grow up?”
And listen to his answer with curious, attentive eyes.
Approach the question-asking from the mindset that you’re genuinely interested in getting to know the core of the person sitting across from you – that his resume, his on-paper qualifications don’t matter squat – and you’re super curious to find out what makes him tick, what excites him, what his various idiosyncrasies are, etc.
This sort of attention is addicting. He’ll soak it up. And more often than not – he’ll be back wanting more.
4. Stay Mysterious
Some SBs may disagree with us on this, but we don’t advise giving much of yourself away, especially on the first date.
So while you should lavish attention and genuine interest on your POT and learn as much about him as you can, also do your part to selectively reveal only bits and pieces of yourself.
You can do this by staying on the conversational offense.
When he asks you questions, answer honestly but keep it simple and lighthearted and then toss a similar question right back at him.
Him: What’s your major?
You: Accounting. What can I say, I love money. What about you – what’d you major in? Did you end up working in something related?
And then follow up with related questions…”If you could do college again, what would you choose?” “What’d you enjoy the most about university?” And so on…
The point of this is not to be closed off – do answer questions and be honest and open. But be selective in what you reveal. Any fascinating and unusual things about you? Talk about those. As for the rest of your life, make him curious to find out more.
5. The Art of the Playful Tease
It’s your first meeting. You barely know each other. So how do you establish rapport in these first few moments of contact?
There are a lot of ways to build rapport, like through asking questions, attentive listening, and finding shared interests. And there’s always mimicking the other person’s body language and doing what you can to put them at ease.
But the simplest, funnest way to instantly build rapport and connection is by through the art of the playful tease.
Teasing, of the silly, playful variety (not the mean, snarky kind) is one of the most useful tools a sugar baby can have in her arsenal. It invites the SD to joke, have fun, and open up with you. The act of playfulness establishes rapport and connection like nothing else can. And this playful, unpredictable nature he sees in you keeps him on his toes and so interested that he hardly notices that he’s becoming attached on an emotional level with you.
Playfulness does all that. It’s a wonder that it’s not talked about as much as it should be.
To get you started, here’s an example of gentle teasing:
Him: You mentioned in your profile that you’re an aspiring actress?
You: Yes, but don’t worry – I won’t drop you once I make it big.
You: I’d wait a few weeks.
At the same time, remember that playful teasing is an art and not a science. Make sure you know how to toe the fine line between fun teasing and snarky meanness before you use this on a POT.
And always – always – smile.
6. The Law of Reciprocity
There’s this little law that we absolutely love making use of in any and all social situations. It’s called the Law of Reciprocity and it works charmingly on SDs.
To use it on a first date, spend a little time getting to know your POT’s interests. You’ve probably already emailed back and forth and chatted over the phone. Go over what was talked about to suss out something interesting about this guy.
And…get him a little gift for the first date.
It doesn’t have to be anything extravagant or expensive – the most we’ve ever spent was less than $20. We don’t do it for every first sugar date – just with the most promising ones. Some of the stuff we’ve gifted:
A POT said one of his most awesome memories was jungle trekking atop an elephant in Thailand. He was incredibly pleased when I showed up for our first date with a little wooden elephant I’d found in a local ethnic shop. Told him I thought of him when I saw it. We’re still friends to this day.
For a POT who claimed to share my affinity for all things sweet: a set of 3 adorable cupcakes. We shared them after dinner.
Even if these things seem to be small investments, they have amazing returns.
‘Cause you just can’t help but like someone who has done something nice for you. Even if you never asked for that nice thing. That’s just how the Law of Reciprocity works.
I’ve been asked several
times what I think about The Lion Guard. I have
to admit that I got curious and, despite my old-ass age and despite
it being a cartoon airing on Disney Junior, I watched the whole
season. My opinions are a bit conflicting, so it’s better if I
explain myself in terms of pros and cons.
first of all, I loved the design. All of it. Characters and
sceneries. Ah, the good old 1990s 2D animation! Of course, the
quality doesn’t reach that of the original movie, but nonetheless the
background paintings and character design were great – we know,
after all, that when it comes to character design Disney is the best.
The voice acting was great, too! Then, what a lovely bunch of bad
guys! I liked how Janja wears his spiky mane backwards like a true
gangster, I liked how Cheezi bears an amazing resemblance to Ed, I
liked the jackal couple, the cunning committee of vultures… And,
not surprisingly, the villains songs are the best. And then, Jasiri! I think she’s the best character in the
show so far. Her design is beautiful, her tough and mocking attitude
balanced by her good heart make her downright adorable, and the
message she carries (Sisi Ni Sawa) is one of the most important
things to preach to children. Also, I thought that making up the
Guard with different animals was not a bad idea in this sense. Another thing I
appreciated was the accuracy as far as the animals’ behavior is
concerned (the aardwolves being shy and nocturnal termite-eaters, the
honey badger being a little pest and his immunity to snake venom, the
zebras being the predators’ favorite dish, the cheetah’s strong
sense of independence, etc.), and the fairly more significant
presence of other species than what was shown in The Lion
King movies and in the Timon & Pumbaa TV show: I found
all this potentially edifying for kids, and I hope the producers and
writers will continue on this line. Last but not least, I loved the
usage of that awesome language that is Swahili: maybe the
catchphrases were a bit too much repetitive, but surely the choice of
names was damn clever.
“After all, hyenas are scavengers…” Again. We know it’s not
always true; actually, accredited research has shown that this
behavior is most of the time attributable to lions. Speaking of
hyenas and their enduring bad image in the human mind, it’s
shocking how this cartoon criminalizes this species. Okay, it’s a
cartoon and bad guys are needed and who better than hyenas, jackals,
and vultures if the protagonist is a lion? I get that. But the blind,
senseless racism against these species, no. That, I don’t like.
Despite the sporadic positive messages like Jasiri’s, the selective
racism – or classism is predominant and it is also expressed in the
settings: the sunny, luxuriant Pridelands versus the barren, dark,
creepy Outlands; the beauty and wealth are reserved to ‘good’
animals, while the ‘bad’ ones (the POOR, the STARVING) are exiled
in the ghetto without any clear reason. The song from the pilot,
“Tonight We Strike!”, is about a fair rebellion of the outcasts
against the privileged Pridelanders, yet it is represented as a
vicious, despicable act, without specifying the fact that who is
excluded from the sharing creates chaos as a natural reaction. In the
same way, that ridiculous Kupatana thing was nothing else than a
pathetic, fake pietism towards the outcasts. This leads me to the
question of the Circle of Life, which is rightly depicted as the
natural balance for survival and preservation of life; but the Guard
also has a fanatical attitude towards it, as if it were a goddamn
Reich! Like, “You, filthy hyena, you’re ugly and evil, no I don’t
care that you have to eat and survive as well, you don’t respect
the Circle of Life so you’re out!”, and “You, beautiful zebra,
you’re every carnivore’s yummiest dream, I can save you from the
hyenas and you can live in the Pridelands, and no don’t worry about
me getting hungry and chewing up your stripy ass, it’s the Circle
of Life!” To quote Fuli, see what I mean? I know, I’m almost 30, I
have an education that has given me the skills to read between the
lines, and all this may sound like a bunch of philosophical details
kids will never catch. Maybe. But some of these ideas should be
rethought, because kids do acknowledge the message, at least
subconsciously! Never underestimate the kids’ powers of reception,
guys. They notice everything. Their little minds are huge containers
and their memory is fresh and amazing. We don’t want wrong stuff to
get to them, do we?
That would be all. This is
not the first time Disney subtly expresses such ideologies, after
Anyway, as a cartoon freak
and artist, I’ll gladly watch the next season. I think I’ll watch
cartoons as long as I’m alive.
let me start by saying that i knew as soon as they said laurel was pregnant that wes would be the one dead. seriously. there’s text proof. because that’s just how it goes, at least for any show i watch. it’s like impossible for any of my otps to have a happy ending…someone is dying, usually right as the other one is pregnant.
and i wouldn’t have been surprised in the least if they had made her have a miscarriage and really strip her of everything. and they still could, really. we do have a two hour finale to get through.
but as far as laurel goes, currently, i think they’ve had made it relatively clear what her choice is, at least from where i’m sitting.
i mean, she specifically asks if the meds she’s on will hurt the baby.
and then add in the conversation we see of her and wes talking about the possibility, they don’t seem to think it would be the worst thing to happen, and then her crying when she admits to everyone that the baby is in fact wes’.
and how she literally wraps herself up in her grief in the form of wes’ shirt - she’s not willing to let go of anything involving him.
of course then you also have when annalise suggests laurel is in a similar situation to her, pregnant and going after the mahoney’s, she reveals that they killed her baby, with the implied threat that if laurel continues down this road they’re likely to do the same to her. and laurel immediately lashes out.
and then when bonnie comes over and blatantly suggests she not keep the baby, laurel, once again, lashes out.
it appears to me, at least, that laurel’s main focus right now is on avenging wes’ death, and her baby. that’s literally it. nothing else matters to her.
so naturally, i’m sure something terrible will happen….again. but that’s just my take.
so the question, do i think laurel will keep the baby? yes. if it were up to laurel, i think she would. do i think that this baby will actually be born? i really can’t say with any certainty on that one.
i just watch every episode with baited breath, hoping that laurel and baby waurel make it.
The café on the corner was one of her favourites. When she had to be in the city, she found herself sneaking away for a morning when she got the chance, as infrequent and unlikely as it was. She loved the smell of the bread baking next door, and she loved the coffee. She loved the way the market across the street came to life, bloomed in an instant once the dawn cracked the horizon, and even before it reached the top of the tall buildings that stood like sentinels throughout the city. Ancient and magnificent, the city was an old heartbeat that felt vital and intense.
When most bloggers talk about ideology or ideological people, they are talking about the extremists. They have in mind some activist who’s read a lot of theory and is always saying radical stuff about revolution or something outside the box of normal politeness (like “all sex is rape”.) It’s true that taken literally these people say a lot of things that could hurt the vast majority of humanity. You can usually pick apart their arguments easily, for they are either poorly thought out or rely on assumptions most people would not be willing to agree with.
I’m not actually interested in those extremists.
Because, there are always extremists, arguing for basically any perspective. The campus feminist is a figure going back over half a century, and it certainly was prominent in the nineties. And you won’t ever find a time when some right wing edgelord wasn’t saying we should have a king with absolute dictatorial powers. There is always some person arguing for far out ideology, and you’re never going to stamp them out.
What is fascinating to me is the reasonable people. The vast majority who don’t think of themselves as holding any “out there” political opinions, and who look down on revolution or extremism as too risky. They just see themselves as holding up the same normal, common sense morality everyone else feels, or should.
There’s nothing “natural” about their positions though - the “normal” opinion is affected by cultural change as much as any extremist. Which is why the positions of campus feminism in the nineties became the positions of all “decent” upstanding citizens in the modern era.
The extremists you usually can argue with. As SSC points out, the extremists have no other options. But once “reasonable people” have a moral opinion, they enforce it brutally. They do not want to talk about it, they consider their opinion on formerly controversial issues now a “solved” discussion, closed for debate. And if you’re labeled a dissenter to that, your life is basically over. The reasonable people control all social discourse.
(There were always neocons who wanted the US to pave the mideast. What was really scary was the post 9/11 environment that made even questioning the sources of terrorism into something that would get you shunned from decent society.)
There may be an inferential gap here. To anyone who hasn’t experienced, it’s hard to express how scary it is when you have an opinion you think is acceptable, and everyone insists it’s just not allowed to be discussed. When people you respect are blithely ignoring their most fundamental principles because “this is the way everyone does it now” and with no further explanation.
Extremists at least usually feel they have to justify themselves.
I suspect though, that anyone reading this tumblr has felt something like that. You shouldn’t be afraid of the radical saying they want to “kill all the X.” You should be afraid when “well of course some X will die” becomes the sad song of the common man.
I’m super interested in how this happens. It’s not like there’s some great evidence-based debate and one side wins, and everyone agrees to accept that side as Correct now. And just saying “it’s cultural” sounds very superficial for a mind-virus that causes people to ignore and forget their most deeply stated principles. So that’s why I want to figure out “how ideology works.” Not the ideology of extremist provacateurs, but the ideology of normal people who never ask themselves how they justify their beliefs.
A second level of that is how even these reasonable people, when cornered one on one, will admit their ideology should be tempered by compassion and skepticism and consideration of other points of view. Most humans are very, very good at saying “well I don’t buy into the whole ideology, I just think it has some good points.”
But when these people operate as a group, then the forgiveness or skepticism seems impossible to find. Institutions just don’t know how to use such fuzzy concepts, and the institutions become much more ideological tools than the messy humans ever could be. So I’m really interested in how ideologies function above the level of the individual.
I suppose all this self-defining and goal-setting is not interesting to anyone on tumblr. You’ll read my posts and enjoy them on their own merit, or they won’t.
So if you need some closing message here its: worry less about the extremists, both on the other side and your own. Pay more attention to the unspoken agreement among the “reasonable people” for things that make no fuggin sense.
“if you wanted to write a little stevetony something where an injured tony has to rescue a totally-out-of-it steve, that would be rad. bonus points for strategically torn clothing and/or emergency mouth-to-mouth :P”
(I didn’t get the strategically torn clothing in, but I’ll weave it in somewhere in another fic)
The battle had been going on for six hours. Six goddamn hours, and Tony was ready to call it quits.
They’d been called out to Bucharest after reports of Doombots terrorising the town centre. Doom, in all his bravado, seemed to have learnt a thing or two since his last encounter with the Avengers, and this time had chosen not to invade the city where the team actually lived. What is it and super villains and New York?
The team had faced Doombots before, but not like this. They were far more advanced than their last encounter; made of reinforced vibranium, Doom’s robotic lackeys became just that much more difficult to take out.
Thor and the Hulk were currently drawing in the most attention from Doombots. The heavy-hitters were being rained down upon my an onslaught of bots, swarming on them like locusts. They’d manage, though, they always did. Like always, the pair seemed to be enjoying the fight more than was sane.
Sam and Nat were on evac - Bucky defending their backs - retrieving civilians from buildings which were amidst their latest battle, and directing them toward the barricade set up by S.H.I.E.L.D and local authorities. Cap had given strict instructions to his team that the underground train stations should be off limits. The last thing they needed was the ground collapsing in on innocent civilians.
Clint had spent the majority of the mission perched on top of rooftops, giving the rest of the eyes over the entire scene, picking out bots with explosive arrows which strayed too far from the centre of the battle.
Tony and Steve were on the ground (well, air in Tony’s case most the time) battling off Doombots while trying to get close enough to Doom - who was controlling the entire fleet from the safety of a bank. He’d set up a perimeter of bots defending the building, and hostages behind them as a safety net, the bastard. Doom was tucked away in a reinforced vault, using remote monitors to oversee his attack.
Six hours was a long time to be fighting, but it wasn’t unusual in their line of work. But this one was taking its toll. The usual chatter on the communal comm was now filled with sharp updates and commands, the occasional brisk response, and mostly of grunts and yells for their teammates.
Plus the occasional laugh from Thor, though even those were now somewhat empty, not filled with their usual mirth.
Tony had turned away from Steve for just a moment, a moment, and things went to shit. He heard a spectacular whine from behind him, turning just in time to see an immense electrical pulse slam into Steve’s skull. The stubborn jackass only stood back up shakily, fists raised - as if he were a skinny kid from Brooklyn all over again, standing up to the latest bully in the back-alley of a movie theatre. The Doombot swung a heavy metal fist in an uppercut, which Steve only just managed to block. The impact left him dazed though, and he was oblivious to another bot approaching behind, bringing down it’s fist with a sickening crack over Steve’s head.
Steve collapsed like a rag-doll, as if the strings holding him up had been slashed, he dropped to the floor and made no motion of getting up.
Tony stared, open mouthed and silenced for a moment before his face contorted with rage, and he let out a yell any Asgardian warrior would be proud of. Tony was ready to give everything and anything to finish this right now. He transferred all power into his chest beam, gauging a deep, burning crevice into seven bots surrounding him, and sped towards Steve’s limp form, delivering another devastating shot from his chest, taking out the two considerably larger bots who were crowded around his Steve.
Throwing his battered helmet to the ground, Tony skidded to a stop next to Steve, who was was dangerously pale and had a trail of blood coating one side of his face, matting his beautiful blonde locks his forehead. His lips were blue, and Tony felt dread corse through him like ice in his veins.
“I honestly expected more of a challenge out of your Glorious Leader, Mister Stark.” Tony blinked back the tears he had felt brimming in his eyes, seething at the sound of the muffled snipe from Doom, twisted disgustingly into a dull mechanical tone.
“Anthony! Wait for support before engaging!” came Thor’s voice over the comm - Tony kept an earpiece on separate to the armour, so he wouldn’t be out the loop if he ended some air against his head. Thor’s voice was strained and curt, no doubt busy with another wave of bots keeping him occupied.
He wouldn’t get here in time.
Tony saw red, firing up the repulsers on his boots and lunged at Doom, swinging at his metal-coated face, then tightening a lethal grip around Doom’s neck. Doom scrambled at the armour, trying to maintain a grip out of desperation, Tony thought maliciously. This coward had put his team, his family, through hell and back more than enough times, and now had almost taken his Captain from him. Because although Steve wasn’t technically his per say, Tony felt it like a throb in his heart that Steve was his.
Doom’s breathing had become strained and rapid, and Tony only tightened his grip. He wanted Doom to suffer, to die slowly-
A burning hot sensation filled his rib cage, and Tony let out a huff of air, releasing Doom from his grip involuntarily. Looking down, Tony saw a deep crimson gush from a newly-made gash in his armour. He looked up to Doom’s face, whose eyes narrowed in what must have been a smile, as he chuckled menacingly.
The blade, made from vibranium and now coated in Tony’s blood, was retracted from Tony’s torso with a sickening slick noise.
“Now now, Tony, don’t look so hurt,” Doom crouched down next to Tony - when had he fallen to his knees? “Consider us fair, now. You destroy three-quarters of my fleet, chase me away from my home in New York, force me into hiding like a sewer-rat, and paint me as a terrorist. So,” he mused casually, “I kill your Captain and- well, you, I’m afraid. Are you actually so naive? That you could what? Just suffocate me and I’d call myself defeated?” Doom grabbed Tony’s face in one hand, forcing his eyes to meet his own, “You’ve gone soft, Mister S-”
Tony unleashed the last remnants of the suit’s energy into his gauntlets, which he’d quietly aimed towards Doom’s gut while he was monologuing. Seriously, he considered, a super villain’s greatest down-fall.
Doom screamed in either agony or fury - hopefully both - clawing at the fatal wound to his gut, charred black around the edges. The smell of burning flesh filled Tony’s senses, and he felt a wave of nausea roll over him. Doom stumbled backwards, waving a command with the gesture of his hand, and one of his lackeys gathered his vulnerable form in it’s arms, and retreated, firing up its own, more primitive repulser technology.
“Detonate the others” Doom seethed through gritted teeth. Tony watched as Doom gave him one last murderous look, before the bot took off in flight, far away from the current battleground.
“All remaining Doombots will detonate in less than 10 seconds, Sir.” Came FRIDAY’s voice through the comms, no doubt had the A.I altered the rest of the team too.
Panic swelled in Tony’s chest, and he scrambled towards Steve’s body, hauling the larger man into his arms as the downed bots began to beep expectantly. Tony dragged Steve’s body, occasionally using the last drops of energy in his suit to push them forward - towards the abandoned office building opposite them, carrying him deep into the building. They collapsed in an ungrateful heap, and Tony turned back in time to see the small red lights on the bots flash angrily for a second before the beeping came to a halt, and the bots blew up spectacularly in the streets. But Tony wasn’t filled with the usual relief that came at the end of a battle, as debris rained down from the outside of the building, collapsing in on the entrance, trapping the pair inside.
Tony shook off the remains of his armour and the dust settled around them, ignoring the steady drip of blood down his own body, and leant over Steve’s unconscious form. Propping the man’s legs upwards, Tony then cradled Steve’s blanched face in the palms of his hands.
Pressing his ear over Steve’s lips, Tony heard no sign of breathing. Forcing back the will to just break down and sob at Steve’s side, Tony willed the strength to start making compressions on Steve’s chest.
He grinned despite himself at the silliness of it, singing a song in his head to will Captain America into breathing again, but it worked damnit, sue him.
He maintained a steady rhythm of beats, before taking in a huge gulp of air - which was heavy with smoke and dust - and brought his lips to Steve’s. They were cold and lifeless, but Tony beat on, filling Steve’s airways, until bringing his attention back to maintaining compressions on Steve’s chest.
What was it he had thought before? His mind was sluggish and he could barely process what was going on. Compressing Steve’s chest felt like instinct, it came so naturally when nothing else did. The blood loss, part of his mind quietly supplied to him. Ah, he remembered why he felt to shit now. He’d been … singing … before? Oh.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, Stayin’ Alive, Stayin’ Alive
“Stayin’ alive, stay- alive,” the words escaped his lips in a whisper, barely forming in his mouth.
God, he needed to sleep - just for a second, he thought, tilting to the side and weakening the compressions he made over Steve’s star-spangled chest. No, he shook his head, as if trying to shake off the cloud of exhaustion, and pushed on.
Tony lost track of how long he was doing this, performing it like a ritual, like it was his religion, before he took in a final mouthful of oxygen. Tony himself was beginning to feel lightheaded, the space they occupied becoming scarcer of oxygen and filling with ash and debris. Nonetheless, Tony persisted and breathed for Steve again and again until-
Steve released a shaky breath, barely audible, but there no doubt. Tony collapsed with relief, feeling Steve’s pulse grow stronger, the serum finally kicking in and booting Steve back up like a machine.
Tony’s world suddenly turned sideways - he’d collapsed, he realised distantly - and he struggled to maintain a steady flow of oxygen himself. He felt the warm trickle of blood oozing from his side, and pressed a hand against the wound absently, eliciting a strangled cry of pain from his mouth, which tasted like copper.
That wasn’t good news.
Tony watched the steady rise and fall of Steve’s chest, vaguely aware of a grumble outside, the crack of rock and cement being hauled to the ground, before he closed his burning eyes, feeling fait relief before his mind swum backwards impossibly far, and abandoned him in nothingness.
Natasha had heard the commotion over the comms after Thor warned Tony to hold back before he got there. She then heard a crack of thunder and Thor launching into the air, but looking up he wasn’t landing down on the avenue Tony and Steve had been fighting on; the Thunder God had intercepted a Doombot mid-air.
“Thor’s got Doom,” came Clint’s voice over the comms, “Not heard from Cap or the tin-can for a while though - Nat?”
Natasha didn’t consider herself leader material, but she was exceptional at planning strategy, maybe even more so than Steve. With radio silence from their two leaders, the responsible fell onto Natasha’s shoulders. She was already jogging to Tony’s last location while she barked out come orders.
“Clint, get back to ground level and meet Sam, you two help with recon, I need your eyes down here for an civilians who might need medical attention - check under collapsed buildings and debris,” Nat surged round a corner, skidding on the ball of her foot - noticing Barnes on her tail, “Thor and Hulk are detailing Doom, once you’re done, help get him into confinement for interrogation later - James and I are closing in on Cap and Tony.”
“Sir and Captain Rogers and trapped in the building to your 3 o'clock, Miss Romanoff.”
“Can you get ‘em on the line, FRIDAY?”
“I’m afraid not, Sargent Barnes, I appear to have lost contact through the debris.”
Natasha slid to a stop in front of a charred mass of dismembered Doombots, noting motor oil staining the street, and on top of it, Tony’s helmet. She relayed as much to Bucky, who scooped it up, giving it a once over before scrunching up his nose and turning to look at Nat.
“This ain’t motor oil,” he grunted solemnly, holding out the helmet for Natasha to see more clearly in the light. The substance on it was scarlett in colour, and not as viscous as any oil.
Pursing her lips, Natasha raised her gauntlets and did a scan of the debris in front of her - they beeped back at her.
“They’re in there - Thor, Hulk, we could use a hand here.” Nat said as Bucky already began tearing through the debris, casting it aside as if it weigh nothing. Sam ran up beside them then, Natasha raising an eyebrow at him in return, he looked momentarily sheepish at that, but shrugged and said
“Heard there was a situation, I ain’t got guns like Thor but I got ones better than his.” he added playfully nodding at Bucky - who snorted in response, though the effect was dampened by how tired he sounded. Sam began digging alongside Nat, noting her discomfort
“Hey, Red,” he tried, “they’ll be here any minute.”
Hulk made easy work of the debris, taking less than a few minutes to get through. He would’ve made even faster work of it if the others hadn’t made him promise not to smash through, something about not letting the building collapse on their leaders.
Bucky vaulted into the building the second the gap was big enough, followed closely by Nat. The others stayed outside prepping medical supplies just in case, Clint taking a business call with S.H.I.E.L.D who were on clean-up.
Buck shone a torch through the building, casting it over metal girders, beams, blocks of cement, and then two bodies, one slumping over the other. Nat noticed too, and they quickly covered the distance, coming to a stop by the two bodies.
Steve’s eyes were flickering open and shut.
“Steve- Stevie, can you look at me? Hey hey focus, punk, how many fingers am I holding up?”
Steve took a rattling breath in, before signing and closing his eyes. Bucky leant forward, momentarily concerned, when Steve spoke up.
“One. S'always one, you jerk. I’m con-concussed, stop flipin’ the bird a'me” the blonde slurred, earning an amused huff from Bucky.
Bucky smile cut short when he saw the concern etched into Natasha’s delicate features, looking at Tony who hadn’t responded once. The gap made by the hulk was big enough for the medics to get a pair of gurney’s in. Steve was hoisted onto one, his head rolling side to side as he furrowed his brow, muttering something about being fine, while Natasha rolled Tony over.
“It was Tony’s blood,” was all she said before her and Bucky hoisted his limp form in their arms, making their way over the the gurney. Gently placing the man down, they hastily jogged with him out the building as medics swarmed around them, fitting Tony with an oxygen mask while others were giving him a once-over, yelling commands in Romanian for the prep team in the jet.
In the light of dusk, Tony’s face was nearing a dangerously blue-grey tone, waxen and covered in ash which matted his sweaty hair to his skull. Brushing the hair out of his eyes, Natasha set her features determinedly, getting the two injured men to the quinjet where they’d be taken to the Helicarrier’s medical wing.
She wasn’t about to lose two of her boys in her watch.
Tony woke to the steady sound of beeping and a smell of disinfectant. God, he thought, what did we do this time? Without opening his eyes, he rolled to one side, noting a pulling sensation on his arm.
“My friend, t'would be unwise to move so hastily at this moment,” came the deep comforting voice of their resident Demi-God from beside him.
Tony loved Thor. Thor was so wise, and happy, and kind, and his laughter rumbled in his chest like thunder- was that part of being a thunder-er?
Thor’s hearty chuckles were heard from beside his head, and Tony peeled open the eye that wasn’t currently pressed into a pillow.
Blinking a few times and twisting his face funnily, Tony looked around the room, settling on Thor who was sitting in a chair much to small for someone of his stature. It creaked weakly as Thor leant forward, gently ruffling Tony’s hair and smiling sadly.
“We feared we’d lost you, Anthony,” Thor said, “your heart was weak and you lost a great deal of blood, I’m afraid. I am, I’m so sorry, my friend, I didn’t get to you sooner. Had I been faster, perhaps Doom wouldn’t have been able to inflict such a grievous wound upon you.”
Noting the guilty look flashing across Tony’s face, Thor quickly changed the subject, and was leaning down to pick something up of the floor.
“This,” he said grinning, “was the blade that struck you - you were most lucky that it merely passed under your lungs, nothing vital was clipped - your liver was slightly, but your physicians were remarkable at their role!” He beamed down at Tony, hair messily pulled back into a bun. His t-shirt was far too small for his chest, which had Black Widow’s doing written all over it. Coincidentally, it literally did have her name in graphic print over the front, Tony noted frowning curiously.
Tony stared dumb-stuck at the long blade Thor was presenting to him, when a voice sounded from his doorway.
“I tried to tell the surgeons not to bother with it - your liver that is - hardly valuable, damaged beyond repair. Definitely wouldn’t be worth the trouble. They neglected to listen to me.”
“Oh Natashalie, you wound me,” Tony slurred melodramatically, wincing when he turned his head too fast trying to look at her, his vision doubling, tripling, and quadrupling a few times before adjusting again.
“No, that wounds you,” she said, gesturing to the blade with a nod of her head, all while perching on the end of the medical bed by his feet, “You’re an idiot, by the way, Stark. Strangling Doom? Not your best plan of action.”
“Excuse me, but isn’t that your signature move? Strangulation by thighs - they have action figures of you doing it now!” He protested weakly, wincing again at the movement of his chest. Natasha gently pushed him back down by his chest onto his pillow with one steady foot.
“Yes, because I’m excellent at it. You on the other hand, well-” she he turned playfully to his current state.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, a S.H.I.E.L.D nurse poked his head through the door.
“Director Fury wants to have a word with the Avengers briefly, ma'am.”
Natasha nodded and made her way to the door. Thor got up to do the same when Tony tried to get up again, until his friend gave him a stern look that made him settle back down.
“I’m an Avenger too, fatal injury or no fatal injury!” Tony called out to Thor’s retreating form, who turned mid walk, grinning at him,
“Yes, but Steven is staying put in his room, I suggest you do the same, Tony.” With a wink, Thor strolled down the corridor and jogged to catch up with Nat until they disappeared from view.
Oh shit, how did he forget Steve.
Tony craned his neck to get a better view out of the door, deciding the coast was clear and he pried himself off his bed. Looking down, he was relived they’d put him in scrubs, not the usual medical gown. After the ordeal with Clint, who protested profusely at the medical staff for baring his ass to everyone without his knowing, S.H.I.E.L.D medical had been reluctant to have a repeat of the incident.
Tearing out his IV (his internal Grey’s Anatomy fan was screaming at him for doing so), Tony skunk out into the corridor, medical mask and all, and began searching the corridor for Steve. The Helicarrier’s medical wing wasn’t too extensive, so it didn’t take long. Though they were certainly used to Avengers getting out of bed long before what was medically recommended, so the mask hid Tony’s identity somewhat - hopefully long enough that he wouldn’t be caught.
C'mon, c'mon, Steve where are you- ah!
Steve lay in a large medical bed - larger than his he noted irritably, favouritism, much - looking more peaceful than he usually did nowadays. Hobbling over to Steve’s side, Tony nudged the door closed behind him with the heel of his bare foot.
Ignoring the way his stitches burned at the motion, Tony sat down on the edge of the chair next to Steve, propping his chin on the mattress. Closing his eyes, Tony’s mind wandered back to the battle.
Watching Steve fall to the ground, blood gushing from his head, looking as lifeless as he did in Tony’s visions. God, this was his fault, not fast enough, the body armour didn’t protect him enough, not good enough for Steve. He wasn’t good enough for Steve. The shock of being stabbed, dragging Steve through the rubble as fast as he could, the bombs inside the bots flickering too close together now, the explosion, the debris, Steve wasn’t breathing, breathe for Steve, beat Steve’s heart, Steve still wasn’t breathing-
Tony’s head shot up so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. Steve was awake, and smiling at him. Why, why was he smiling? Tony wasn’t fast enough, he could have gotten Steve killed-
“I’m sorry, Steve, I’m so, so sorry you wouldn’t believe - that rhymed, sorry, I’m not trying to be clever of whatever - shit, again, with the rhyming, I didn’t mean to, this is very serious and I’m so sorry pleasedon'thateme-”
“Jesus fuck, Tony, do you ever shut your goddamn mouth?” Steve said hopelessly, eyes swimming with mirth.
Tony let out a deep sigh, and tried again.
“Are you- I don’t know- okay? Angry? Sad- are you sad, I don’t know how to deal with Sad Steve. And watch your language”
Steve eyed him, bewildered by everything coming out of Tony’s mouth.
“You’re crazy, you know that- wait, are you on morphine?” Steve chose that moment to glance down at Tony, at his current attire and his bare feet, before groaning.
“Tony, you should be in bed right now, God why are you here?!”
Tony looked momentarily hurt, before Steve signed and lifted his own covers.
“Lie down.” He ordered, looking at Tony expectantly. When Tony stood up, Steve’s eyes widened at the growing patch of blood emerging from Tony’s abdomen.
“Oh for the love of- Tony, are you walking around after just having stitches.” The statement wasn’t really a question, Steve had already lifted up the other man’s scrubs to reveal that yes, in fact there were recently sewn stitches and yes Tony had pulled them enough to bleed considerably.
Tony slid into the bed next to Steve, feeling a sense of comfort at the warms radiating from his chest. Steve sighed in frustration and pressed the assistance button next to his head.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Tony Stark,” there was anxiety in his tone, but he seemed comfortable enough that Tony could stay. They were in a hospital room after all, just not Tony’s.
The morphine had begun to wear off the moment Tony ripped out his IV, which he kind of deserved for doing so, and he clenched his teeth impossibly tight trying to suppress a groan from the wound, with was now leaning less toward ’uncomfortable’ and more towards ’really fucking annoying’. Steve noticed, pulling Tony closer to his body and brushing a hand through his hair - it was getting long now, he noted, flopping over his eyes half the time.
Tony was drifting off to sleep by the time a doctor waltzed in, clearly not imagining Steve would be in any urgent assistance, and her eyes widened then squinted as she pulled her face into a frown.
“Mr Stark! You were under strict bed-rest until further notice-”
“Well I am in a bed-”
“You shouldn’t have moved beds at all!” She sighed, frustrated but compliantly, as she moved around the side of the bed Tony was on, only to sigh again when she noticed his stitches.
“For this, forget about me using morphine this time round” she drawled without much heat, when Natasha came bursting into the room, followed by the rest of the team.
“Ty sukin syn, Tony, you were stabbed - through and through - and you’re more worried about Steve?” Natasha hissed, pointedly glaring at him again when she noticed the stitches.
Natasha asked the doctor if she could do it instead, staring Tony down, eliciting a nervous twitch from Tony. The doctor merely snorted and carried on - Nat hadn’t been serious anyway, but the threat carried through.
Turning his attention away from Natasha, Tony felt Steve’s eyes burrowing into the back of his head. Waving his hands around in leu of a remark in his defence, Tony met Steve’s eyes and regretted it upon seeing the hurt in them.
“It didn’t even hit anything important, don’t start getting worked up about it-”
“It hit you. You’re important, Tony,” Steve bit out, actually leaving Tony temporarily speechless - a rare occurrence in itself.
Bruce watched the exchange and motioned for the other to give them some privacy, Sam obliged, rolling his eyes when Nat, Bucky, Thor, and Clint all hesitated, clearly more than interested in the exchange.
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, the doctor finished redoing the stitches Tony pulled, then applying a fresh gauze over them, secured with a bandage wrapped tightly round his torso. She took off her gloves, balling them up to throw away into the biohazard bin, and said casually without looking up once, “If you touch those again I’ll kick you out and leave you to bleed on on the curb. You’re not making a mess in my medical suite again, Avenger or not."
With that, she was gone.
"Why did you engage with Doom without backup?” Steve asked in a disturbingly calm voice, as if holding back from exploding in a fit of anger, avoiding eye-contact all together. Steve had fished the StarkPad off his bedside table - Sam must’ve left it for him - and was skimming over the mission report.
“I was unconscious and your armour was compromised, Thor said he was on his way, so why didn’t you just wait-!”
“It would have been too long!” Tony interrupted, feeling his own anger boiling in his gut, “Thor and Hulk were being bombarded by Doombots, you needed to get somewhere safe yesterday, and I was not gonna let that asshole just get away!”
Steve chewed the inside of his mouth, thinking of what counter argument to say next, so Tony took the opportunity to carry on.
“If I hadn’t have stepped in, Thor would never have reached Doom in time and he wouldn’t be sealed in interrelation, ready to be held trial for what he’s done. Civilians died, Steve, you could’ve-”
“Alright.” Wait, what? Tony said as much to Steve. “You’re right, he shouldn’t have gotten away, but your attack on him was thoughtless, Stark, I thought you were over this who goddamn lone-ranger recklessness on the field! You’re on a team! You only had to hold him off 'til backup arrived, what the hell were you thinking?!”
Steve’s voice had risen beyond a stern to full out yelling, earning a few concerned stares through the door from passers-by. The door mysteriously closed, and Steve sighed. One of the team must of closed it, meaning all of them were listening in. Fantastic.
“If I see a single one of you listening in outside this goddamn door in the surveillance tape later I will personally have you put on paperwork duty for the next fortnight,” Steve said plainly. The sound of shuffling stirred up and eventually faded out down the corridor.
Steve sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, before continuing.
“Star- Tony, earlier - on the jet, I was conscious enough to see what happened, what happened to you, and I-” Steve seemed to think carefully about his next words, swallowing the lump in his throat and licking his bottom lip, avoiding Tony’s gaze. Not that Tony was looking at Steve either. Boys.
“You were so pale and there was just blood everywhere- it was, brutal, seeing you like that. You looked so small, Tony.”
“The thought of losing you because you were saving me that kills me, Tony. Why didn’t you think of-?”
“I wasn’t thinking!” Tony burst out louder than expecting, “Christ, Steve, with you I don’t think, it’s one of the only times I don’t think and calculate all the variables to the T, with you its, it’s like, like ritual.” Tony finished, heart racing but feeling a lot calmer than a few moments ago
Steve bobbed his mouth open and shut, at a loss of what to say. Tony smiled softly, took pity on the man and gently lifted his hand, closing Steve’s gaping mouth, tilting it closed by his chin. Steve gradually leaned into Tony’s touch, closing his eyes and sighing contently. Tony let his hand linger over Steve’s cheek, then settling softly cradling his jaw.
Steve met his eyes, and Tony carried on talking.
“It’s like, I don’t need to think, I just do, and I just reacted. It’s what I know, it’s just there and- I’m kinda going off and a tangent here with this analogy so please feel free and step in so I stop talking-”
Steve tilted his head and kissed the palm of Tony’s hand, clasping his own hand over Tony’s. Tony wet his lips and started to shuffle, adjusting the way he was led. Steve flushed a soft pink, stomach lifting into his chest as the ends of his fingers began to tingle with anticipation.
Tony closed the gap between them on one swift movement, bringing their lips together tenderly. Steve got with the programme quickly, and kissed back, bringing an arm round Tony’s waist, drawing him closer. Tony deepened the kiss and Steve moaned softly into his mouth, letting his mind drift upwards. He’d wanted this for so long, it ached in his chest and throbbed around his body. He tilted Tony’s head backwards gently, kissing Tony deeper and leaning over his body slightly, letting Tony lay back as Steve gently climbed over him, careful of his stitches.
They kissed for what felt like hours, touching each other intimately, stroking hands through each other’s hair. Tony ran his hands over Steve’s biceps and his chest, Steve gingerly placed a hand over the scars left by the arc reactor, feeling the curves of his waist, pulling their hips together.
“That’s bad for the stitches.”
Steve dropped his head onto Tony’s chest with a sigh, closing his eyes as if to say why me, why now. Tony snorted gently and dipped his head forward pecking Steve’s forehead. Steve sat up and turned to look at the voice coming from the door, eyes already rolling back good-naturedly.
The team stood in the doorway, poking their heads through at different angles comically, grinning at the pair.
“Alright thanks for stopping by, you can go now”
“Aw, Cap c'mon, it’s visiting hours! We all wanna see how our leaders are doing,” Clint said with a smirk on his face, already strolling into the room and plonking himself into an armchair my the bed.
Steve sat up, gently helping Tony into a sitting position, smiling at him sweetly.
“Ugh, please stop doing that”
“Doing what, Buck?”
“That- thing where you look at each other nicely. Disgusting” Bucky mock-grumbled as he sauntered in, dropping himself on windowsill, followed by the others pizza boxes in hand. Steve just tossed a pillow at the guy’s head.
The others filed into the room, taking up respective places, perched on windowsills, plastic chairs, and at the foot of the bed. As the others joked around, throwing pizza crusts at Steve when he got doe-eyed, Tony settled back against Steve’s chest, and smiled.
Title:Safe And Sound Chapter: 10/15 Pairing: Eventual Michael/Reader Rating: PG-13 for the series Word Count: 6,678 Summary: Six months ago, your life was turned upside down when you won a recording contract on a singing contest reality show. It’s been a blur since then, and things were looking up for you, but people were starting to cross the line with you, putting your safety in danger. At the urging of your label, your manager found you a bodyguard that you could connect with, someone who would be a friend on the lonely nights of traveling. However, instead of getting the bodyguard that oozed masculinity, you got Michael. A/N: Would you look at that, I’ve actually finished it! We’re winding down to the last chapters, and that means you’ll finally see the end. I have it queued up to post on Fridays, once a week until it’s done!
how do you feel about the crusaders/crusades (the dudes who killed people because they didn't have the same religion.)
The crusades were a series of wars that sent men to kill and die under religious pretences that didn’t match the desires of the ones orchestrating them, ultimately amounting to no military value as the crusades were ended in failure at the expense of many lives on all sides and other countless unspeakable crimes.
Despite that, I do believe the crusades were not entirely without value in a cultural sense, years after the fact. If nothing else, the folly of and oxymoronic nature of holy wars, the intermingling of culture and ideas that the conflicts brought about, and the formation of archetypes that are prevalent even to today.
Was it worth all the death and evil committed? Of course not. But I would advise we seek a silver lining and seek something worth even in this matter, rather than cast it away in revilement. There is no shame in having a nuanced grasp on the past.
I saw a drawing of Kim as a goddess and i thought, what would the rest be?!?!
This is what i thought
Life and Death-Two brothers, complete opposites, but yet they work together to keep the earth in harmony. You would never see Life. A man stuck in his home in heaven, making sure things a born and created. Making sure the right things adapt and the right things don’t. Its Death you see. Its Death that goes around with his golden gun. Its Death that stands above you as you breath your final breath. (Kirin Dave and Ridgedog)
The Journeyman-Your life is a journey, and through the fun bits with friendship and through the dark bits with no one around, the Journeyman is by your side. He is the one that listen to you when you are alone, and he is the one that leads the way through the dark, with his bright torch in hand. (Xephos)
The Dwarf-The breaker of stone and barriers, the dwarf is there to pick you up by singing and break down your worst fears. Originated in the mines by miners scared of digging to deep, the Dwarf would stand by them and make them feel invincible. (Honeydew)
The Curious-Also known as the crazed scientist, the curious is the one that sparks the interest. He is the one that makes you ask ‘Why?’. He has read every book in every library. He looks down at the lost and makes them wander. (Duncan)
The Mother-Unlike most religions where the mother symbolises fertility and womanhood, The Mother is growth and maturity. Whether it childish stupidity, or adult-like fondness, The Mother watches over you as you grow and change into who you are meant to be. (Kim)
The Wise-A young woman, like that of Minerva of Rome and Athena of Greece, who is wise and great in battle. Her owl of Wisdom and her raven of Knowledge, she knows all that happens in the world. (Hannah)
The Pool-Master-Not much is known about the young pool-master. He appeared one day with two cats and bucket of water. He spends little time in heaven, enjoying wandering earth and appearing in front of people when the least expect it. He joins in journeys, and though he certainly doesn’t make it easy, he does make it more of an adventure. (Nilesy)
The Mage-He is the one that writes the book the curious reads. He is the one that creates the knowledge and wisdom the birds bring to The Wise. He is known as the Mage, one of the most powerful beings in heaven, and it is debated amongst mortals, the most powerful, more powerful than Life and Death themselves. (Rythian)
Mother Mercy-Mother Mercy, the one that judges you once you die, the one that decides whether you go to heaven or hell. Mercy is her name, as she is kind and sweet and realises why people do things, and not just sends them to where for what. She is the happiest and jumpiest person you will ever me, and accepts you for you, and nothing else.
The Nature-Spirit-Life and Death smaller counter part. The big two had a lot of work on their hands dealing with humans and animals that the plants started to wither, so they created the Nature-Spirit to deal with the flora of the world. (Martyn)
The Simple-The nephew to Life and Death, and is completely different to them. He prefers a simple lifestyle, one without paperwork and running over earth every hour of everyday. He likes simplicity, which somehow got him close to the Nature-Spirit. (Toby)
The Tricksters-A strange duo who bring a bit of spirit into the world. They not only make you question what you see, they make you laugh. They are the one who makes the houses look like Hitler, and they are the ones that put faces into the trees. They make you laugh with and at each other. (Sips and Sjin)
The Darkened Three-When they’re names are spoken, children hide and grown men shudder. The darkened three are known as the evil in the land. The Firestarter, one who hides in the shadows, the one who causes death. The Builder, the achiever, building higher than everyone else, the one that shoves his success down everyone’s throats. And the Walrus, the one who controls his two friends, stops them from killing and destroying people. No-one knows if he’s really bad at his job or if he just doesn’t care. (Hatfilms)
The Thief-A friend to all, and is also known as the most annoying man in the universe, mainly with his thievery, but also the fact that he enjoy’s singing and he knows he’s not very good. But still, he may be a theif, and may have been a simple mortal once, but he is still a friend you would never want to disappear. (Turpster)
The Devil and his Apprentice-One from hell and one from earth, a match not made in heaven, causing death, destuction and deals all over the place. Giving problems to your solutions, and solutions to those problems. If they earn a profit, they are on it. (Parv and Strife)
A little something I thought of at three a.m. … afternoon delight at the unremarkable house, a few years ago.
“No, it wasn’t gross and disgusting! It was … um, it was beautiful,” she hears him say as she pads back to the living room, now in her slippers with a thick robe on over … nothing else.
“And natural,” she adds, tightening her sash and going to take a seat on the wing chair opposite the couch where they sit.
“Oh, god, you guys,” William moans, head in his hands, ears — the only part of his face visible from that posture — so red they might be in danger of actually catching fire. “Please, please stop talking.”
i am a summertime soul. i love colors, the warmth of the sun, i love how leaves and everything green grows and turns a beautiful golden when the sun hits it. i love flowers, animals, water, i love being in nature, long road trips with friends, screaming along to the radio because nothing else matters in the world. i love summer.