“Find What Works For You And Work It.“

Swoon!  @winterhawkkisses did an adorable story for my prompt.  Isn’t it wonderful?  (If you’re curious, this is the cake.)

I love your stories! Even when they don't have kisses, they brighten my day. Do you take image prompts? I saw a heart&arrow cake on Cake Wrecks and thought, "Bucky would definitely get that for Clint!" I'm torn on whether it would be a joke or an actual attempt at a romantic gesture though. I can't include a link to it here, but it's the last picture on the Feb. 8 post of Cake Wrecks.

“Mmph?” 

“It is Valentine’s day, Clint.” 

Clint attempted to unstick his eyelashes, shuffled his legs up so he was almost kneeling, considered shifting his face away from the pillow and then dismissed the idea. 

“Tony?” 

“I can hear the question, why is there a question? Like you don’t live for my dulcet tones in your -” 

“It’s four in the fuckin’ morning, Tony, what’n the hell’re you -” 

“Okay first, it’s ten, and I don’t want to know what you were doing last night unless pictures are likely to surface. Second, it’s Valentine’s day, and instead of snuggling up to my boo I’ve been called down to security -” 

“How is that my -”

“- because your boyfriend is deeply inappropriate and possibly insane.”

“Boyfriend?” Clint kinda flinched at the word, hard enough that he was scooted forward, further up the bed, hard enough that his skull made noisy contact with the headboard. “Woah, who said boyfriend? I didn’t say boyfriend. Did he say boyfriend?” 

“Oh this is just - this is sad,” Tony said. 

“No, seriously, Tony, did he - ‘cos you shouldn’t just go throwing words like that around, okay?” Mostly Clint had got through this - whatever it was - by not thinking about it too hard. Like if he handled the thought too much he’d smudge it, somehow screw it up. 

“Get down here,” Tony said. 

Clint shuffled out of bed. He stepped into his sneakers, figured the reception staff had seen him in weirder get-ups than the shirt and sweatpants he’d slept in, ran a hand through his hair and squeezed some toothpaste onto his tongue. If he had any say in this he was getting straight back into bed when they were through, so that was as much effort as he was willing to put in. 

“ - sorry, Mr Stark,” someone was saying when Clint pushed open the door to internal security; someone fairly important by the sharp creases in their suit. “Obviously cakes don’t usually have bloodstains, so my crew wanted to be sure -” 

“It’s fine,” Tony said, flapping a hand at them absently. He squinted up at Clint, then gestured at the cake that was sitting in a box on the table. “Seriously?” he said. “This is your type?” 

The cake was in the shape of an anatomical heart, colored like it’d been bled dry with stark red veins scrawled over the surface. Piercing it, at an angle, was one of Clint’s arrows, purple-fletched, and there was dark icing blood spatter covering the baked pillow. 

It was a little terrifying, and a little beautiful, and somehow exactly fuckin’ right. He had no idea what the hell his face was doing, but something in Tony’s expression softened. 

“Maybe you should have the ‘boyfriend’ talk, huh?” he said. 

Reblogging for all my friends with more prescriptions than I have!

A friend of mine posted this. Reblog to save a life!

I love this idea!  However, I think you could do Midsummer Night’s Dream if you start and end the play outside (or next door, whatever) and use the large, labyrinthine coffee shop from Tempest for the woods.  Bonus points if the mechanicals do Pyramus and Thisbe as if it were set in a coffee shop!

Coffee shop AU, except the original media’s setting is otherwise largely unaltered – it just has a coffee shop in it now, or the nearest remotely plausible equivalent.

My most popular tweet right now is about welcoming intersex, nb, and ace/aro people into pride. Let’s get it going on here, too.

REBLOG IF YOU FEEL THAT INTERSEX, NB, AND ACE/ARO PEOPLE SHOULD BE WELCOMED AT PRIDE, BELONG AT PRIDE, ETC

Everyone, regardless of gender, deserves bodily autonomy.  You should not have to hug your uncle or kiss your grandmother or have your cheek pinched by your mom’s best friend or even sit on Santa’s lap if it upsets you.  It’s important for people to learn that they have the right to say, “No,” and have it accepted -- even if the person is a family member, friend, or respected person.  It is also ok for someone to want that contact sometimes but not other times, whether they need to take a little while getting comfortable with people they don’t see often or are comfortable giving a hug now but not later.

Respect other people’s limits and insist that they respect yours.

@the-other-sandy, weren’t we just talking about Grapenuts?

Grapenuts

Neither grapes nor nuts.

The closest thing to gravel still considers fit for human consumption.

Possibly a major joke being played on the human race by hamsters.

Is there something about aces and coffee?  Honestly, the only time I can stand the flavor is when I’m kissing someone I love who has just drunk coffee.

Ready for a long ace-centric metaphor about sex? 

Alright, so. Coffee. I don’t drink coffee. I have no desire to drink coffee. I find people who enthusiastically go on about the flavor differences of lattes, espressos, and french press brews, both amusing and mildly baffling. All the coffee ads. Coffee jokes. Bustling coffee shops. To me, all coffee is similarly bitter and unpleasant. I have been through so many “Try this, it’s sweet! You can’t even taste the coffee!”  Alas, I always can. And I’m  sensitive to caffeine anyway. So, I don’t really think about drinking it when I wake up or am tired.

 Yet I love the smell of coffee. I love the idea of coffee. The feeling of a warm cup taking the chill from my fingers, the cozy ritual of having a drink and chat. I might try someone’s coffee. If they ask, if I want to please them and share in something they enjoy. I am also perfectly capable of learning the preferences of those I care about and creating a cup for their pleasure. 

But I don’t want coffee, generally speaking. I will probably make a face after trying their coffee and wash the taste out with something else. They may rush to reassure me that it is an acquired taste. And I’ll have to reply that it’s a taste I don’t particularly care about acquiring in the way they did. ‘Drink it till you like it’ will never work for me.

 But that doesn’t mean I am against coffee or think people shouldn’t drink it. Doesn’t mean I’ve taken a vow to never drink any. And sure, maybe if you get one of those sugar and whipped cream disasters, more of a warm milkshake than a cup of coffee, I’ll probably be happier sipping it with you. But honestly? I’d rather smell someone else’s coffee and not be expected to drink it. I’d really rather have the heat and sweetness of my hot cocoa. 

This is one of the big reasons why I am a librarian.

As a library worker, there’s something I want to say to you.

You do not have to apologize for the books you choose to read.

At all.  To anyone.  You owe nobody any explanations; you need no excuse or “good reason” to be reading the book.

You do not have to be ashamed for wanting to read “bad” books.  You wanna read Twilight?  We got Twilight.  Need a banal, cookie-cutter-plot mystery or thriller?  Those are always fun.  Our regulars check them out by the towering stack.  Ask Betty for recommendations; she’s read them all.  50 Shades of Oh Fucking No?  We’ve got it, we even got it in large print.  Have fun.  Check out the rest of our porn too.  Oh, and the sex manuals are a MUST if you want to “experiment” yourself.  Don’t be afraid to ask; they’re here for a reason.

Want to read a book written by a huge asshole everyone hates and agree was a monster?  Yeah, we have those.  No, we don’t think you’re an asshole for wanting to know what was actually written in there, or judging things for yourself.

You are not too old for Diary of a Wimpy Kid, The Babysitter’s Club, or Captain Underpants.  You are not too young for Sherlock Holmes.  There’s nothing wrong with a boy reading The Princess Academy or Sweet Valley High.  There’s nothing wrong with a girl being into The Hardy Boys or Artemis Fowl instead.

You do not have to pull the shame face and offer me an excuse when you check out your books.  I don’t care if I got so angry at that book I threw it against a wall when I read it: you have the right to read it, and enjoy it if it’s enjoyable for you.  THAT’S WHY THE LIBRARY HAS IT IN THE FIRST PLACE.  If we only stocked pure, unproblematic literature everyone approved of, by authors of unquestionable virtue, we wouldn’t have any books at all.  Or music.  Or movies.  It would be utterly fucking boring.  And it certainly wouldn’t be a library.

I can’t even draw straight lines with a ruler.

I am not a straight people.

Reblog if you are also not a straight people.

Please vote! Even if it feels like you are only voting against the worse candidate or voting for the Less Bad candidate -- we need those votes to make sure we don't get the worse candidate.

Also, vote in all of your local elections if you can. Those are the people who decide whether books get banned in your community's schools and libraries. They decide whether your local police department gets training on de-escalation procedures or bigger guns. They are behind your community's social safety nets (or lack thereof), what types of community events are held, what's in your local parks, and much more.

Voting for Democrats is the "leaving the house, getting some exercise, and drinking more water is good for your mental health" of societal change. Everyone keeps telling you to do it, worst of all your mom keeps telling you to do it, and it's not a magical cure-all, but it actually works and rotting in your room shitposting does not help in either scenario.