sallyintheskywithdiamonds:

synclair-exilis:

skarosoul:

does anybody realise how much this GIF represents British people

I remember on one episode this kept happening and Ed Byrne grabbed the microphone stand and ran off with it.

(x)


http://lycanandproud.tumblr.com/post/83178565038/queerly-it-is-dyou-think-the-avengers-ever

queerly-it-is:

d’you think the avengers ever play a game where they try to push steve’s buttons and get him all riled up and patriotic?

tony casually throws it into a conversation like “oh yeah I don’t vote” and steve trails off mid-sentence and gapes for a second before he starts in on the…




Anonymous asked:
Au where tony is really awkward and steve flirts with him

theappleppielifestyle:

Here’s the thing:

Tony’s been flirting since he was old enough to correct his teacher on college-grade physics, which is to say twelve-ish. He had been horrible at it and people had laughed at him, but he persevered and made an image and by the time he was sixteen he had thought he was pretty good at it. Over the years, ‘pretty good’ turned into ‘second nature.’

Tony Stark can flirt while he’s distracted, can flirt while he’s coughing blood or vomit in between words, can flirt while he isn’t meaning to flirt but does it anyway because it’s so automatic to him. Sometimes it’s fun, a game he plays, but that mostly faded away a decade or two ago. Mostly it’s just- there, easy as breathing and just as instilled into him.

The point is, he can flirt. He can flirt your pants off, literally. 

Except.

Except, he realizes when he’s forty-ish and glancing at Pepper across his workshop as she lectures him- when he starts having actual feelings for people, he forgets how to breathe sometimes and all knowledge of flirting goes out the window. It’s sad, really, that he only finds this out when he’s forty, but it’s also sad because he splutters and tries feebly to regain any sense of aloofness and fails at both.

It’s pathetic. It’s eight kinds of un-Stark-ish. And more importantly, it’s embarrassing as hell, and after Tony breaks up with Pepper he expects he won’t have to go through it again.

Then Steve happens, and Tony really, really doesn’t want to go into it, because it’s just as embarrassing and stupid, but somehow he ends up one and a half years into a friendship with Steve Rogers and hasn’t fucked it up yet and isn’t entirely sure how he managed it.

But he did- somehow- and Tony sort of wants to ride the guy into the sunset, but he’s cool with eating pancakes out of the pan with him at 11 PM when neither of them can sleep. Which is a big indicator to how incredibly screwed he is, wow.

And Tony is- Tony isn’t even attractive right now, he’s been submerged in his workshop for two days straight, he’s slept about eight hours in that whole time, he has grease stains where his skin should be.

So he has no idea what the hell is happening when Tony says, pancake in hand, “Shit, this is hot,” and Steve replies, “It’s not the only thing,” and looks at him from under his eyelashes.

Tony freezes, pancake halfway to his mouth. Then he hisses and drops it back into the pan, because, seriously, hot. He side-eyes Steve, who is still looking at him like that, all sultry and kind of nervous.

They’re standing close together, Tony realizes. If Tony leaned to his right a few inches, they’d be kissing. 

Tony should probably say something. If Steve was a model at a party, they’d already be heading to his bedroom. But it’s Steve, who is losing the sultry look and is leaning decidedly towards nervous, and fuck, Tony needs to say something now.

"Thanks, you too."

Fuck.

Steve stares as Tony struggles not to start slamming his own head into the bench. You too?

"Um," Steve says, and Tony hurries on. 

"I mean, you too. You’re hot. Also." He waves a hand at Steve, who is still staring, apparently just as confused as Tony is. 

"I’m… glad we got that out of the way," Steve says slowly. "The fact we’re both hot."

"Mm-hm," Tony says, voice a little too high, biting into a scolding pancake out of lack of things to do with his hands. Or his mouth. Shit, he should be kissing Steve. He should’ve kissed him, and he can’t kiss him now because he’s chewing a dastardly hot pancake.

He chews faster to get rid of the pancake quicker, which makes Steve raise his eyebrows, and Tony realizes how weird it must look and forces himself to chew slower.

God. Tony is a disgrace. He’s going to crawl back into his workshop and never come out after he pries himself from this conversation.

"Um," Steve says again, scratching the back of his neck. He slouches, and then straightens again. What. "I, sorry. I thought- sorry," he says, and turns, and nope, Tony isn’t having that.

Swallowing the last of the pancake and burning his oesophagus in the process, he grabs Steve’s shoulder. “Wait.”

Steve faces him again, two-parts nervous and one-part hopeful and all parts confused as fuck. 

"I was," Tony says, and his mouth betrays him. "I can’t, I can’t flirt with people if I like them?" He’s making this expression where half of his cheek twists up and probably makes him look like he has a fishhook caught in his lip. What is he doing, Jesus. Someone kill him now, right here in this kitchen.

"It’s- my brain goes kablooey, it’s terrible," Tony continues, and he did just say kablooey, the word exited his mouth, and he is done for. And he is STILL TALKING. "It’s really, tragically embarrassing, please don’t tell the others, they’ll tease me forever. It’ll be on my gravestone."

"You can’t flirt with people you like," Steve repeats, face doing all sorts of things. Tony thinks he sees some fucked up combination of pity and amusement and pure exasperation. "Really, Tony?"

"It’s a thing. Shut up."

"You could shut me up," Steve suggests, leaning forwards, eyes doing that thing again, and oh, Tony could work with this.

He starts to say something and is incredibly glad when Steve’s mouth on his cuts him off.



When I accidentally make pain noises in public

agronworshipper:

when you kinda move on from a certain ship and forget about it but suddenly you see a post or something about that ship and all the feels come back

image




steve-tony asked:
how abooouuut steve/tony moulin rouge au :3 :3

theappleppielifestyle:

"I don’t like the ending."

Obadiah’s voice drowns Steve out, and Steve tries not to grit his teeth too hard before turning to him.

"Sorry?"

"I don’t like the ending," Obadiah repeats, with that stiff smile that makes Steve want to bloody it up a bit. "Why should the courtesan chose the penniless artist over the arms dealer who is offering him a lifetime of security? That’s real love."

Out of the corner of his eye, Steve sees Tony raise a hand to scratch his nose, middle finger too prominent for it to be accidental, and has to fight down a laugh as Obadiah continues.

"Once the artist has satisfied his lust, he will leave the courtesan with nothing," Obadiah says, and the laughter Steve was compressing dies in his chest- "I suggest the courtesan chose the arms dealer," Obadiah finishes, all smiles and clenched hands.

Beside Steve, Bruce is frowning. “But that ending doesn’t uphold our ideals, sir.”

"Ideals?"

"Ideals," Tony says, arms crossed, smiling just as unpleasantly as Obadiah. When the man in question looks at him, Tony tilts his head and grins. "Like, say, the courtesan going with the man who actually loves him, not the one who wants him on his arm as a trophy husband to show off at parties."

Steve wants to cheer. He also wants to kiss Tony. He knows he can do neither.

"I don’t care," Obadiah starts, getting louder, "About your- your lot’s ideals. Why shouldn’t the courtesan chose the arms dealer?"

"Because he doesn’t love you."

It’s not until everyone’s eyes turn to Steve that he realizes it was him who said it. His gaze goes to Tony, who is wide-eyed in fear, and stammers before blurting, “Him! He doesn’t- the courtesan doesn’t love him.”

Tony is looking at the ground now so he doesn’t have to raise his eyes to meet the fury in Obadiah’s, and Steve grits his teeth so hard it hurts.

The silence is deafening, all of Steve’s ‘lot’ trading glances or being too nervous to do so, and when Obadiah finally speaks, it makes Steve jump.

"I see," he says, cold but not cold enough. He’s smiling again. "Mister Banner?"

Bruce all but flinches. “Sir?”

"The play will be rewritten with the courtesan choosing the arm’s dealer and without the lovers’ secret song. It will be rehearsed in the morning, ready for opening tomorrow night."

"Sir," Bruce says, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Sir, that’s impossible."

"I decide what’s impossible, not you," Obadiah tells him, dropping the nice act for a moment, just enough for the last word to turn into a snap. Then he’s composing himself, adjusting his tie and standing and offering an arm to Tony. "My dear," he says, with all the warmth of an igloo.

If Steve didn’t already know Tony was one of the bravest people he’s met, he wouldn’t know where Tony found the strength to meet the older man’s eyes and smile like nothing was wrong.

"Sweetheart," Tony says, all simper and put-on ooze that Steve has never heard directed at him, "I thought I’d stay behind for a while, get Jane up to speed on where I’ll be doing the-"

"You’ll do nothing of the sort," Obadiah says, all snap now. He brandishes his arm at him, elbow nearly catching Tony in the cheek. "Come," he says, like he’s telling an unruly dog to stop misbehaving.

Jane clears her throat from across the room, and Obadiah looks like he’s sucking on a lemon when he turns to her. 

"I really did need Tony to stay behind," Jane says quickly. "Not long, just half an hour. Maybe an hour, tops. For-"

"Foundation," Tony says loudly.

Jane nods like a madwoman. “Yes! Yes, foundation, there’s a massive disaster with the foundation, we need Tony to save the day, please let him stay, sir?”

Obadiah’s arm stays out, elbow offered to Tony for another few stiff seconds before withdrawing. “Fine,” he says, and his shoes against the wood as he leaves is the loudest sound in the world.

Steve is already apologizing before Tony is in his arms. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he babbles, and the third is said into Tony’s hair as he strokes his fingers through it. “Sorry, shit, I didn’t-“

"It’s fine, I’ll fix it," Tony says, and Steve winces.





"It’s not just about numbers—the female characters in Elementary, usually even the ones who only show up in a single episode, have both diversity and agency. While they might not, like Watson or Moriarty, make the choices and hold the sense of self that drives the action of an entire season’s plot, they still can drive the story of their own episode. Sometimes they are the heroes, and sometimes they’re the villains. Sometimes they’re near-paragons and sometimes they’re incredibly flawed. Many of the female characters, from the mathematician trying to solve p=np in “Solve for X,” the prima ballerina in “Corpse de Ballet,” and the consulting geologist in”Dead Clade Walking” are authoritative experts in their fields."

Alana Mancuso - In Praise of the Women of Elementary (via perforatedsanity)

EXXACCCCTTTLLYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!!!

(via everybodyilovedies)
awwww-cute:

"What has it got in its nasty little pocketses??"

highgayden:

"no homo" the teenage boy whispers as he pulls away from kissing his friend. he gently strokes the other males face "full bi" he adds in a sensuous tone.

themalkingjay:

me not shaving my legs has literally nothing to do with feminism and literally everything to do with me being lazy

(Source: devinnnc)