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what are birds

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Tony can't finish dressing by himself.
Broken arms fuck up a lot more than he expects. No matter how often he fucks up his arm or his shoulder or his elbow, it always surprises him. Buttons? He's lucky he's had a lot of practice undressing one-handed. Zippers? 50-50 shot towards manageable but he has been traumatized from the last time Pepper had to detangle him from his slacks. Now he's a little gunshy.
Ties, though. There's no hope without a second set of hands.
He doesn't wear many ties these days. He's semi-retired, after the whole death thing. The charming romp that resulted in his broken arm was an unexpected exception involving a set of French doors, some ill-advised molotov cocktails, and ten sets of stairs. And also an assassination attempt, once Tony finished laughing his ass off. It was immediate karma, although Tony maintains he didn't deserve it.
Pepper has begged him to show his face in public more. They think he faked his resurrection, which is funny because they thought he faked his death, too, and the resurrection was, like, three years ago -- Tony doesn't have the kind of patience for a long con.
Speaking of patience: "Hey, Pete?" Tony gives up trying to strangle himself with the silk monstrosity Pepper set out on his bed this afternoon. "Mind helping out an invalid?"
"One sec!" Peter's voice bubbles from down the hallway. He's excited in a way one can only be when they haven't been to too many fancy events in their life. Pepper was smart about sending Peter as his plus one. At least then,some of Peter's enthusiasm might rub off. "Let me wash my hands. This shit gets everywhere, every time."
It'll be a fun event, as much as it could be. Not black tie, and the invitations swing a little camp. Tony is wearing a crimson red suit, clean cut but bright as all hell, with gold embroidery. He tends to prefer classic ensembles (although he has fond memories of the 90s) but he can't deny the chance to dress up. Peter hadn't even let Tony buy him a suit. He said he'd rather do something more fun, and had begrudgingly taken Tony's credit card and promised to buy something pretty.
That's what he'd said, once his protests had died. Okay, Mr. Stark. I'll use this to buy something pretty, if that's what you want.
God, Tony is a bad man. He doesn't think about lace or leather at all. He doesn't. Isn't.
"Are you in here trying to end it all? Give the tie a break, mister." Tony startles as hands magically appear before him, pulling the tie out of his grip. To be fair, it looks less like a tie and more like a knot, now. Peter snorts, fingers picking at the mess. "Tell me you have a steamer or something. Can you use steam on silk?"
Tony opens his mouth, blinks, and then shuts it.
There's gold on Peter's eyelids.
Gold. Eyeshadow. Probably. Tony's worn makeup before. Peter has gold eyeshadow, and some dark liner smudged around his eyes. A little concealer. His browns are darker. His lips are glossy, maybe just a balm. Glossy. His lips are glossy. His eyes are gold.
"Yeah." Tony doesn't remember what he was saying, but Peter is just looping the tie around Tony's neck and getting to work.
Tony is the one who taught Peter how to tie a tie. May tried, but Tony is particular. He taught Peter how he likes his ties tied. Not to have Peter tie his ties or anything, but because everyone should know how to dress slick and easy. That's all.
Something pretty. Peter is wearing dark red shot through with gold thread pinstripe and a sheer shirt. Sheer. There isn't much skin to show, with the jacket, but if Tony took his good hand and used all those years of unbuttoning, pushed aside the lapel, he'd see Peter's bare nipple.
Peter smells like Tony's cologne. He probably borrowed some, since Tony's collection is huge. When he tilts his head, Tony smells it on his skin, hot. It's heavier around the cooler, which is open and very visible. Lots of skin. And cologne. Is it hot in here? Where is he right now.
Peter crosses the knot a bit too tight and it jolts Tony back to earth. "You're staring," he says, eyes focused on his hands as they work silk around Tony's neck. His eyes are shiny and gold. Gold. His lashes are long, too. Did he use makeup on them or has Tony just not noticed before.
Tony clears his throat. "No."
Peter makes a small sound of agreement, even though his mouth quirks in that way he does when he doesn't believe a thing a Tony says. "Okay." Over, under, tighten the know. Smooth the silk down the front of Tony's chest.
Tony swallows thickly. "If I was staring, you'd know."
"Okay," Peter says again, slipping the tie into the clip and smoothing it down again. "I wonder if I'd even notice." Tilts his head, even though his eyes are still focused on his hands. Tony is also focused on Peter's hands, because they have stilled and are still on Tony's chest. "You staring, I mean."
"Like I said, you'd know."
"Maybe I'd even mention it to you." Peter looks up now with a secret little smile. "And you'd tell me you weren't, and then where would we be?"
Tony's good hand wants to press Peter in close, but he can't, so he doesn't. Why can't he? He keeps forgetting. It settles on Peter's elbow instead, light and teasing through the jacket. Unintentional, probably. His fingers flit over the seam. Peter doesn't move away. Tony keeps forgetting that he should.
"Are you ready to go?" Peter asks, changing gears, and Tony slumps with either relief or disappointment. Either way, it's the first breath he's taken in a year. "It's almost time for us to be fashionably late."
"Right." Tony wipes a hand over his face and grabs his jacket from the bed. Peter steps close again, helping him drape it nicely over his sling. "Wouldn't want to disappoint anyone."
"You could never. Oh! By the way." Peter is setting the shoulders straight, but then he's pressing closer -- his body a firm line against Tony's back -- and slipping his hands over Tony's chest. "Thanks for something pretty." He kisses Tony's cheek, all mischief, even though his cheeks are blushing red. There's a smear on Tony's skin. Definitely gloss.
When Tony recovers, Peter is already out the door. Tony finds his credit card in his breast pocket when he's hurriedly shoving in the pocket square and trying to follow him out the door.
Everyone needs three hobbies: one to give you carpel tunnel, one to leave you sore and bruised, and one for your distant relatives to insist you monetize
Jerking off. Falling down the stairs. Fixing the wifi.
Happy Anniversary. This is the original post. On this day in 2011 I was doing a charity drive for the natural disasters in TΕhoku and drew this. A few hours later I turned it into a gif and posted it here.
Hereβs the original doodle before I drew it into a GIF
Happy 14th birthday Nyan Cat! The original post originated here on Tumblr
A lot has changed these past 15 years but itβs delightful to see this little cat continuing to zip past every corner of the internet. Happy 15th birthday to Nyan Cat!
Thank you to everybody who has kept it going all this time. Drew a special cake version today to celebrate πβ¨

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hey its me your doctor. idgaf
Peter when someone brings up Tony's past as a playboy:
Tony is his now and that's it.
~ mystisophia π
I think that Elon Musk is an object lesson in moral philosophy.
Like, he's the epitome of self-interest; the closest thing real life can produce to a Randian hero. And by any reasonable standard, he's won at life! He's the richest man ever to live, and he's getting richer; he controls the channels of information and communication; the government of what remains the world's only superpower waits on his command. If capitalism had a victory condition, he would surely have achieved it. And yet...
He's empty. He's an absolute sucking void of neediness. His own children hate his guts. He pays professional gamers to run up impossibly high scores in every game under the sun because the pale glow of being praised by epic bacon chuds online is the closest thing that he can feel to love.
Like. I can't tell you what a soul is, but I think you neglect it at your peril.
#He has such a vile anti-personality that even CONVICTED PEDOPHILES thought him insufferable
He has such a vile anti-personality that his own children would rather forego half a trillion dollars in inheritance than maintain a relationship with him.
I never really thought about it until this tweet but I think Oates clocked him completely. He spends all day on Twitter posting and NEVER talks about anything he enjoys. He has an enormous family and infinite money and yet he seems entirely joyless.
100 FEMALE CHARACTERS IN 2021
59. Anita βNeedyβ Lesnicki β Jenniferβs Body (2009) dir. Karyn Kusama
one of the underrated lessons from lotr's Aragorn is to avoid responsibility for as long as humanly possible, possibly in the woods, possibly without showering, until the small folk need you or whatever

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saw this on pinterest but i think it belongs here too
this will never not be important
i will do ANYTHING but work on my essay apparently
Ants have the most badass lives of anything in the animal kingdom, life as an ant is like warhammer
Wake up in enormous underground cyberpunk metropolis
Venture outside with your ant buddies to forage scraps from an incomprehensible civilization of alien gods (each one several times larger than the city you've spent most of your life inside) for the glory of your GodMomEmpress
Get attacked by a platoon of soldiers from a rival megacity, they're an offshoot of your species except like twice as big (basically orks) and like 10% of them are genetically modified supersoldiers with wings
Luckily, you've been engineered from birth to spit acid so you and your antfriends successfully defeat the rival ants and their winged miniboss
Die from getting stuck on a jolly rancher
I learned today that Scoobert Doo was designed to violate every Great Dane breed standard and I love that
*ungreats your dane*
tony has always been a show-off. with his money, his brain, his armor, everything is a show. to those who don't know him well it's the overcompensation game of an overly wealthy alpha.
but tony is a loving, passionate, good-hearted man, so those who really know him know the truth: it absolutely is a game, and it's a game that he revels in.
even when he and Peter started dating Tony liked to show off his new omega just a little bit. he would have shown him off more if peter allowed it. sure, peter liked it too (more than he was comfortable admitting to himself), but it just isn't a world that peter is comfortable with yet.
still, despite knowing all this, nothing could prepare peter for tony's first rut.
most alphas are difficult to deal with in rut for multiple reasons. they're territorial, temperamental, single-minded, and stubborn. surrounded by the avengers, all a threat in their own right, peter figures tony is going to sequester them in the lab and fight anyone who comes close. he's reasonably worried that tony might kill Captain America.
except that's not what happens at all, because tony is a show-off.
and because tony isn't overcompensating or insecure, he knows the truth, which is that the entire tower is his territory.
tony spends a week knotting peter in the community living room, in the kitchen, in the gym. He will physically carry Peter to a room he knows another avenger is in and spread him out like an illicit feast. there are nests scattered throughout the penthouse, pillows and blankets where peter can get fucked in front of a norse god in relative comfort. After three times, Peter isn't even able to be embarrassed anymore. and it's a lot more than three times.

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Sphinx employee slash bodega cat that blocks the door and asks riddles, the owner has the answer of the day on a paper taped to the door.
it never notices.
important addition from a friend:
everyone thinks REALLY hard and regulars makes two bad guesses so it feels like it's doing a good job
i really enjoyed the last time i wrote a non-linear narrative and i'm enjoying it this time as well but hopefully it comes out even half as a cohesive lmao the last time i wrote the entire thing in like two weeks...this one has just been percolating in my brain like be gay do crime