— My doctor when I told her I had no reason to be sad (via hrive-ithiliel)
but what do americans call biscuits
Wait what are British biscuits? these are american biscuits.
WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY?!
They are American biscuits.
…That is not a biscuit.
These. These are biscuits.
Those are cookies.
These are cookies:
Everything else is a biscuit.
THOSE AMERICAN BISCUITS ARE SCONES
i don’t trust asexuals because their brains are not distracted by the matters of the flesh.
where is all that brain power going.
i bet it’s going to the overmind, where they are gathering strength to consolidate their hold over the world
you know too much.
I am struck occasionally, usually while snuggling the cat, with our faith in domestication.
The cat is a small, ferocious predator, twelve pounds of…well, flab and fur, frankly, in Athena’s case, but what muscle there is is strong all out of proportion to her size. I have watched three 150+ primates try and fail to subdue a ten pound cat, and consider it not at all unusual. The cat is as flexible as a snake and as strong as an ox. She has quite dainty looking teeth and claws, but there’s nothing dainty about their ability to flay flesh from bone.
If the cat and I were in a duel to the death, I would almost certainly win. I am 15+ times larger than she is, after all, and while my teeth and claws are pathetic, I have prehensile hands capable of doing terrible things. But if I had to go in naked, as the cat does, (and assuming the cat was aware that she was going to have to kill me, and not taking a nap in the corner) I can pretty much guarantee it would be a Pyhrric victory. I’d look like I’d gone ten rounds with a wolverine. I would need stitches. A lot of stitches. Possibly a glass eye. And antibiotics by the truckload. It’d be a mess, and there would even be a chance of an upset if the cat managed to go face-hugger on me.
And yet, despite the knowledge of the shocking amount of damage my small predator could inflict, it never occurs to me to worry. I pick the cat up and she tucks her head under my chin and purrs, canine teeth centimeters from my jugular, and despite the fact that I am carrying a ruthless carnivore in a position where she could, with great ease, remove me from the gene pool, I am thoroughly content with the world. Even knowing full well that cats are not even a truly domesticated animal, that Athena’s kin might best be described as “consistently tamed,” my greatest concern is that my black tank top is now coated in white cat hairs.
We have such faith in the process of domestication, despite the sheer unnaturalness of what’s happening. Small predators do not curl up on the chests of large primates and purr in the wild. And yet, every now and again, generally when my small predator is purring on the chest of this particular primate, I think How strange, how strange… that we’re doing this, and even stranger, that we both take it completely for granted, and find nothing unusual in such a completely unlikely alliance."
okay hear me out aromantic natasha who as a ~thing~ with clint and every time somebody asks them to define their relationship natasha raises an eyebrow while clint makes vaguely exasperated hand gestures
#all i can think of is clint waving around a coffee pot and making noncommittal noises then flapping his hands near his chest then shrugging and chugging the coffee pot #and natasha’s like ‘yeah that exactly’
Tom + Loki:
Chris + Steve
Clint + Jeremy:
Natasha + Scarlett:
Chris + Thor:
Mark + Bruce
Tony + RDJ
Fury + Samuel:
THIS IS MY FAVOURITE POST EVER,
MOST ACCURATE POST
Sebastian + Pre WS!Bucky
Sebastian + Winter Soldier Bucky
Anthony + Sam
I HAD TO DO IT. I HAD TO.