There’s nothing chasing you. There won’t be a face in the window. Nothing is following you up the stairs. Nothing is under your bed. You can throw your legs over your bed, you can have your arm over the side of the bed, because nothing is out to get you. I promise. I’m here to protect you. I’ll kick its ass.
you know, when Steve introduces himself in TWS, Sam laughs and says “I’d put that together.” which makes sense because no normal human can run like that.
but like WHEN did he put it together? how many laps did it take before it dawned on him? at what point did Sam Wilson suddenly realize that he was being TROLLED BY CAPTAIN AMERICA
I SUDDENLY VERY MUCH NEED TO KNOW THIS.
No seriously, don’t sit there and go “Moran you’re so cute,” talk to me about Sam, who’s tired because…well, he works at the VA, with people like him, people who’ve seen the worst humanity has to offer, who’ve lost friends so close they were more than family, whose beds are too hard and who sometimes struggle to see the light, maybe even some people who, like him, are torn between blessed relief at being away from the fight and the deep thrum of the march in their souls. And about how Sam’s tired, physically tired because he can’t sleep, mentally weary from his work, which is rewarding sometimes but not often, emotionally exhausted because some part of him kind of misses it, misses the fight, so Sam runs, and maybe that seems backwards but he used to be able to fly and that’s something he’s not really allowed to tell people (which sucks, by the way, national security his fine black ass) and running is almost like flight. Except it’s not, at all.
Talk to me about how Sam’s been running the same damn laps every morning since he got home and he would actually almost be okay with some jackass starting shit on the street because it would be something to do. Talk to me about how Sam ran at a reasonable hour at first (military man or not, he doesn’t get along with mornings) but there were so many people, mothers jogging with strollers, tourists wandering and just getting in the way, bicycles everywhere, and he likes people fine, sure, he’s one charming son of a bitch if he does say so himself (he doesn’t actually, because his mama would still whup his ass if she heard him), but not when they’re interfering with his run. And about how Sam starts inching his run earlier and earlier until he’s seeing the damn sunrise again, but he’s running with one or two other folks who give him a businesslike nod and a brisk warning so they don’t collide and he likes that a lot better because no one should really be expected to be social that early in the morning.
Talk to me about how one morning this random guy with blond hair and a jaw like a goddamn Adonis and shoulders so wide you could put the whole Lincoln memorial on top of them starts running at an ungodly hour with the scant few of them who are out by then, and he runs in this bizarrely delicate way that should be exhausting but clearly isn’t because this guy is fucking booking it like the proverbial bat out of hell. Talk to me about how at first Sam’s just blown away, too blown away to really even think about it as this random blond god blazes past him again and again (he almost doesn’t mind at first because it’s an absolute pleasure to watch the man leave him in the dust–Sam’s a good looking guy, and he knows it, but the guy’s ass is something else). And about how at first it gets to be this habit: go for run, get whipped by random blond dude, politely ogle blond dude’s ass as he runs past, leave with an appreciation for the good things in life and a healthily lowered ego. About how Sam gets to almost be weird non-friends-but-kind-of-work-out-buddies with Random Blond Guy over a week or so, who always dodges politely rather than giving a warning, just like he is with the other handful of runners at this hour.
Talk to me about how one day the blond guy blows past Sam with a brisk “On your left” and Sam almost stumbles because, first of all, they don’t talk, that’s not a thing, and second of all, that motherfucker’s not even out of breath. Talk to me about how that kind of pisses Sam off in a way that the simple running didn’t, and suddenly he’s pushing himself a little more, a little harder and the guy comes past again with another “on your left” and they finish the run like that but this time, this time Sam’s been paying more attention and the guy has been doing something ridiculous like thirty miles an hour plus (it’s not like he actually clocked him, okay, he’s guessing here) and wow, that’s just inhuman, flat out impossible. Talk to me about how Sam goes back out to run the next day and it happens again and this time Sam’s paying even more attention and–son of a bitch that’s goddamn Captain America trolling him like a pro. Sam almost has a heart attack on the spot, he actually almost does, he stumbles and feels his heartrate hitch and everything, but he stays on his feet possibly through sheer ego because Captain fucking America might lap him a million times every morning, but he’s sure as shit not going to fall into the Reflecting Pool because of the shock, no sir, that’s just too humiliating to consider.
And the next day Random Blond Captain America comes and talks to Sam after their run and the fucker’s got jokes, too.
It literally doesn’t even surprise Sam when he agrees to go risk his neck to help the bastard. Fuck this civilian life bit, he’s got priorities.
One of my favorite scenes in all the books is the one where literally all the teachers ban together to just fucking slay Lockhart like “oh you were just telling me about the chamber of secrets” and “oh didn’t you say you wanted to take a crack at it”, it’s so great
No but you don’t understand the entire Hogwarts staff is either working together trying to reveal Lockhart as a fraud or freaking kill him and either way it’s great
the president of nigeria is about to fuck boko haram up and cut his own salary in half and criminalized female genital mutilation
the president of guinea built/is building infrastructure and school and wells all over the country and is decreasing youth unemployment exponentially
the president of cote d’ivoire made school mandatory of children ages 6-16 and banned plastic bags while also building ultra modern trasportation infrastructure
the future is for real in africa
I think this should have a hell of a lot more notes on it than it does. This is what good news looks like folk, and the continent of Africa surely deserves a shed load of it.
I have a strong feeling that 90% of the people who reblogged this don’t know shit about politics and are just going along with what everyone else/their parents say.
You know who else doesn’t know shit about politics? Donald Trump
I’m just thinking maybe we should try to elect somebody who hasn’t gone bankrupt six separate times and has a platform consisting of more than ‘fuck mexico’.
So we all know Bruce gets gossiped about in Gotham tabloids. This is just a fact. And we can assume Batman gets gossiped about too. And we know that Bruce has made it look like they are two close but different people to lose suspicion.
So here’s the thing. What if the tabloids started to rumor that Bruce and Bats were dating because of all this secret covert operations meetings and things. What if people started to believe it? What if it made front page? “Gotham Playboy seeing masked vigilante; their affair in page 10”
Dick: “ I know they say to love yourself Bruce, but this is just excessive.”
When Bruce is kidnapped to be bait for his “boyfriend” he decides he’s going to have to call in Clark for a very public interview about being dumped by “Batman”
Clark’s day is fucking made.
If someone writes this fic for me, I will be your house elf.
((Reblog or Halloween won’t be celebrated. If you reblog this in 50 seconds, you’ll have the best Halloween and be blessed by the spoopy skeleton gods.))
((This skeleton will also break all chain mail or reblog or die posts and you’ll live a happy life.))
I guess it’s time to blacklist Bucky Barnes too, because that “what if a little girl recognizes him at the Smithsonian exhibit, because girls can have heroes too” post is just pissing me off now because what about girls whose heroes are girls, is that fucking allowed ever or does literally everything have to be about Bucky Barnes including the admiration and aspiration of young women?
What about the teenager who recognizes Natasha at the mall because Black Widow is not exactly S.H.I.E.L.D.’s best-kept secret after New York and a CHI straightener and a hoodie is not going to change that, and her first instinct is to elbow her friends and maybe go ask for an autograph, but then she notices the pace and the smile and the perpetually-scanning gaze and realizes Black Widow is on a job, holy frick, cover ops in Fashion Centre at Pentagon City, wait until absolutely no one hears about this, but she puts herself on a course that will pass Romanoff and gives her the tiniest of nods, and Black Widow winks at her, and she walks on and feels like a superspy herself for the next handful of days until the S.H.I.E.L.D. filedump, when she stays up and reads and reads and reads, and later when she’s writing her term paper, and then later when she’s sitting in her Declassified Operations elective, and later still when she’s across the table as Director Hill reviews her qualifications, she is thinking, “I met Black Widow in the mall and kept her secret; there is nothing I can’t do”?
“Fat acceptance” blogs urging overweight people to shed negative feelings about their body image can lead to healthier diet and exercise choices, a study has found.
The fat acceptance movement, which seeks to foster a support network among overweight people, has inspired a plethora of blogs and web forums such as Corpulent, Fat Heffalump and The Rotund — an online community that’s become known as the “fatosphere”.
In a study published in the journal Qualitative Health Research, researchers from Monash University, the University of New England and the University of Canberra interviewed 44 fatosphere bloggers from Australia, the US and the UK about how their involvement in the movement had changed them.
“There’s been a lot of criticism of the movement that it promotes obesity and encourages people to give up on weight loss and makes their health worse,” said one of the researchers, Dr Samantha Thomas, a Senior Research Fellow at Monash University’s Department of Marketing.
“We saw there was a lot of opinion about the movement but very few people had actually studied it.”
Interviews with the respondents revealed many had experienced feelings of worthlessness, shame, crash diets, cycles of starvation and binge eating and laxative abuse before discovering the fatosphere.
“Having that support and feeling empowered, people slowly found that their health behaviours began to change dramatically. For example, many people suddenly felt confident to do swimming, something they would not have done before,” she said.
“People shifted their focus away from weight loss and more toward health. A lot of people started to take part in physical activity not as a way to lose weight but because they enjoyed it. Instead of pounding it out on the treadmill they start playing with their kids. It’s actually a massive shift in the way they looked at things.”
Shifting the focus away from restricting food and toward listening to the body’s needs could also lead to better food choices, said Dr Thomas.
“There are actually a lot of lessons for public health here,” she said.
“The term fat acceptance is really confronting for people. That’s why we have seen a lot of blame and criticism. Society tells us it’s not OK to be fat for a whole bunch of moral and medical reasons,” she said.
“This study shows that far from promoting obesity and promoting negative health behaviours, the movement is really positive for some people’s health.”
So basically, if fat-bashers actually cared about people’s health (as they so often claim to as an excuse for their intolerance and hatred) then they’d actually support fat acceptance instead of trying to tear body-positive folks down?
Surprise! When you’re not made to feel miserable about yourself, you become more motivated to take care of the self that you have. Who knew?
Have you ever seen brown eyes in the sun? You don’t always notice it at first but you’ll see that ‘brown’ no longer describes them. They melt into golden rays, circling an eclipse. There’s nothing boring about brown eyes, not even when the later hours encroach; they just turn into a sunset of their own.
2015: we said we were going to romanticize brown eyes and someone did it
I am literally one of the most stony-hearted motherfuckers you’ll ever meet.
I’ve never heard a compliment about brown eyes (my eyes) before.
If you have pubes and use pads…than you probably aren’t having sex..
if a man (or a woman) can’t handle pubes or pads then he’s probably an immature douche who won’t grow up. if he can’t understand that pubes are a natural body occurance, or think that his preferance in my menstral protection is above my comfort then he’s probably an asshole and, just like with tampons, i dont want him up my vagina
Moving tip: the first thing you should bring into the new house is a roll of toilet paper. The second thing is drinking glasses or water bottles. The third thing is curtains or blinds. Then everything else.
If you want to be friends with me you don’t have to be “Hi, um, can, ya know, we be friends?”
It is 1000000000000000000000% percent ok if you just go into my inbox can go. “Man, I am so fucking pissed off at fucking Michael.” And I’ll most likely respond with, “Oh shit! What did Michael do now?“
this is such a good post because asking ppl if you can be friends can make them feel so uncomfortable but if you approach them like this its SO EASY to start a conversation and let a friendship develop naturally
Things That Interest Me: How memes align really well with germ theory and infectious diseases. Like okay some memes are the more virulent kind, like, for example, the breadsticks meme.
ok you have the patient zero, or this post; it remains relatively benign until June, where it gets its first contact with a high risk post. From there, the number of outbreaks grow exponentially; ravaging through the fandom communities, with each group getting at least a dozen smaller variations. Then, the meme enters its final, most virulent stages, dubbed the “surreal meme stages;” takes on the meme itself. this is the signal that the meme is being analyzed and is therefore on its way out. the movement from the Fandom to the Surreal stage is usually rapid, within a day. The rapid death of the meme means that it can’t infect other people so quickly, which means it dies out, with only small bursts of activity in isolated incidents.
This is compared to memes like Pepe, which are more benign, and therefore have more staying power, much like the common cold.
is same-sex marriage legal in space bc i know where i want to get married
In a legal sense marriage is a union between person recognised by the law. There’s no government body in space so technically not.
On the other hand you can just call your ship a community and have it officiated by the captain, first mate, or, in the case of the first mate marrying the captain and so on, just move down the rank hierarchy until someone on the ship isn’t involved in the marriage.
Also can I come. I support your marriage, but more importantly I like space.
This just in: I can get married in space and you’re all invited to my gay space wedding.
because I’m tired of the ‘male love interest can’t navigate a kitchen to save his life bc apparently even microwaves are a menace to romantic leads’ trope - *squints at fsog* - I now present a list of culinary aus that I need as of right now:
rival chefs au
chef trying to impress this one picky food critic au
“you said you would help me make dinner but now you’re criticising my onion chopping skills and when exactly did this turn into a not-so-friendly round of master chef???” au
“when I questioned your ability to critique food I wasn’t expecting you to be this good at bullshit about the ‘flavour notes’ you detect and ‘spring-plucked plums’ and… wtf even is ‘umami’? shit this pretentious pedant thing might be a teeny bit hot” au
NO RESERVATIONS AU
“you simply happen to be the only foodie I know and so what if that means I occasionally blow off dates to check out that new French restaurant downtown with you it’s not like it means anything” au
“yes, I am blackmailing you into wearing that novelty apron fite me” au
“no, you can’t just make me dinner and think that will make it all better… but it wouldn’t hurt” au
“when I said we should experiment with some chocolate sauce sexytimes I didn’t expect you to immediately bring out the double boiler! I mean, I have simple tastes, I could totally go pick up some Nesquik- alright, alright, I won’t mess with the ‘integrity’ of the thing bc wOW this is absolutely delicious and… babe of course I’m still into the whole sex part of the plan but is that a hint of chili I detect?!” au
“I started singing 'feed me seymour’ and I’m not stopping until you either burst into song or make me a snack” au
“what do you mEAN you bought a whole round of roquefort WHEN WOULD WE EVER NEED THAT MUCH CHEESE” au
“bringing me leftovers of the meal you cooked with mY gourmet prosciutto does not negate thieveryeven if it was delicious. worst. roommate. ever.” au
“so we may have set off the fire alarm. twice. and I know there’s a worrying amount of flour everywhere. but we made cupcakes together without killing each other and that’s the importan- nO OF COURSE WE DIDN’T MAKE OUT ok maybe a little” au
Just once I would like the mentor’s beautiful daughter to actually, sincerely hate the hero’s guts.
Like, not like ‘belligerent sexual tension’ hate his guts. Not ‘learn a valuable lesson about resentment and gets over it’ hate his guts. No, just straight up, 100%, wouldn’t-piss-on-you-if-you-were-on-fire, the-sound-of-your-name-makes-me-puke-a-little-in-my-mouth hate his guts.
And my entire kingdom for a story where she ‘helps’ him train and then goes and hands a detailed list of all of his weaknesses and strategies to his rival like ‘kick his fucking ass’.
Alternatively, how about the ‘hero’ is actually the villain, because it turns out that the mentor not trusting his own daughter’s capabilities enough to let her be the chosen one and instead granting phenomenal cosmic powers to the first rando farmboy who comes along actually wasn’t the smartest idea he’s ever had.
Having trolled some of the AO3 Fury Road tag, I’ve learned something interesting.
I am AGGRRESSIVELY here for everything involving Max and Furiosa.
I like them best as Epic Lifelong Drift-Compatible Postapocalypse Badass Bros. They are the BroTP to end all BroTPs. But hey.
Aromantic casual sex buddies who snark and spar? I’m down, let’s go, I’m so down with that shit.
Asexual partners who drive around and sleep next to each other because it makes them feel safe? Give it to me.
Soul mates in every way, sexual, romantic, practical, all of the above, who cobble together a slapdash system for running the Citadel and work through their issues? Hell yeah, hELL FUCKING YEAH.
Long-suffering pseudo-parents to the Wives (who ship it like FedEx) and the War Boys (who worship both of their badassery in a much more healthy way than they worshipped Joe)? I AM READY.
okay but like can we talk about star trek just for one second.
because.
like.
so much tv and so many movies and so many books are all about how the future is a disaster because technology ends the world and aliens attack and humanity is awful.
and then there’s star trek. motherfucking star trek. where, yeah, shit goes wrong all the time, but technology lets us reach and grow and learn, and humanity builds itself starships and warp cores and makes contact with aliens and builds this interstellar family out of all these disparate cultures and it names its flagship Enterprise because that’s what it is, it’s this enterprise of hope and discovery, and no matter how often they all risk their necks and get in fights and end up shooting it out with the Borg or the Klingons or the Romulans or whatever, humanity still looks up at the stars and says “you know what, let’s boldly go, motherfuckers,” and that’s the kind of future I wanna see.
By default, Microsoft gets to see your location, keystrokes and
browser history – and listen to your microphone, and some of that stuff
is shared with “trusted [by Microsoft, not by you] partners.”
You can turn this all off, of course, by digging through screen after
screen of “privacy” dashboards, navigating the welter of tickboxes that
serve the same purposes as all those clean, ration-seeming lines on the
craps table: to complexify the proposition so you can’t figure out if
the odds are in your favor.
Oh, and if you’ve already chosen to use Firefox as your default browser, Microsoft overrides your decision
when you “upgrade” and switches you to the latest incarnation of the
immortal undead monster formerly known as Internet Explorer.
