Time is a cruel unforgiving mistress
Time is a cruel unforgiving mistress
#i get really emotional over video diary week nine. #you know- the one where louis pulls /the superman/ card #that’s not what makes me emotional #it’s the part where liam says the question /if you could marry any celebrity who would it be?/ #and zayn answers immediately /MEGAN FOX/ #and then they go to louis #and there’s a cut there #[i’m desperate for the scrapped footage they edited out] #and louis defers to harry #and harry says quickly and determinedly /david hasselhoff/ #and he makes that same face he made after that girl asked him if he and louis were dating #its that same closed eyes mouth closed nod thing#meanwhile its like louis is trying to decide whether he should go for it or not #he ultimately decides to #and says /i’d marry you harry/ #now in the gifs we always look at the one where louis says it and harry’s preening face #but no one hardly ever uses the after face. [which is the thing in this whole diary that makes me emotional!] #because that face where he goes /honestly?!/ #is where it hits him. it’s almost like he was so preoccupied with louis’ attention & touch it took a moment for it to sink in #it looks like such a caught off guard boyfriend face #i like to think louis one-upped harry #like harry sent out a silent dare by saying david hasselhoff to see if louis would also say a man’s name #but then louis did one better and picked harry [x]
AOL is unboxing a “new way to connect” at 1pm EST HERE and if you simply watch the livestream you have a chance to win an Apple iPad Air, Microsoft Surface, Google Chromebook, or Google Glass!
NOT LIKE I’M DOING A SINGLE THING WITH MY SUMMER ANYWAY
When Steve’s voice finally comes through, it’s panicked and smothered and cutting out every few seconds, pinned by static.
"-ny, ju- se don’t do this, we c- ere’s another way, Natasha foun-"
Tony keeps his eyes locked on the bright, violent blue of the portal, and thinks of arc reactor. Thinks of bluebirds, and clicking his makeshift heart into place, and Steve’s eyes, and Steve, and Steve-
He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t trust himself to, at this point- it’s his last run, they all know it, and still Steve’s words are overlapping, running over each other until they blur.
"-ony, you don’t ha-"
Tony remembers, and remembers, and remembers:
Natasha at the almost identical portal a year ago, saying come on, Stark, and everyone holding their breaths as Iron Man was swallowed up by the same blue light that closed around him in a toothless bite.
They weren’t a team then, not back when they didn’t know what to avoid and what to press, how to wake each other up in the mornings and what kind of coffee they liked.
It’s been a long year, and it’s been the best fucking year of Tony’s life.
When he finally says, “Steve,” it’s cracked around the edges and he’s not even sure if it made it out his mouth.
But then Steve is talking again, relief bleeding through his voice, and saying, “Tony, pl- ound another way to close it, y-“
And Tony says, “Yeah, Cap?” because he can’t afford to call him Steve, not when that name has come to be the only thing to hold onto in a storm, not when that’s the name he’s breathed into Steve’s neck as they shook together on late nights after a mission had gone badly, not when Steve is on the ground and staring up at Tony streaking upwards in a flash of red and gold, not when-
Tony’s throat clicks, and then it’s all spilling over.
He says, “Remember last time we did this,” and it comes out in a thick laugh. “Remember- remember, you didn’t even like me back then. None of us- and it was Pep, I was calling Pepper, oh, god, she’s going to be so pissed that I- the paperwork is gonna be brutal, fucking Christ-“
"-ot gonna die," Steve is saying, and it’s so full. “You’re not gonna die, Tony, I promise. I swear.”
Another thick laugh, and it’s like he’s drowning. “Captain America shouldn’t swear, you’ll set a bad example.”
Steve says, “Tony,” and it’s breathless, like he’s been clawing tooth-and-nail up to the roof of building that Tony can see him on top of, and there are still creatures coming down on all of the Avengers, on his friends, on the ones he’s leaned on and yanked on and pulled to their feet-
"I have to do this," Tony says, and doesn’t let his voice shake. "Steve, I- this is my choice."
It’s a low blow, and it’s not enough, because Steve chokes in a ragged breath and says, “Tony, we found-“
"You didn’t find jack shit," Tony says, and he can see it now, he can see the toothless mouth ready to turn him into nothing again, again, again. "I heard you talking earlier. You said that if I did this to distract me, and-"
"Tony, please,” Steve says, and Tony wants to tell him he’s sorry he ever fell for him in the first place, sorry that he ever made Steve love him, because it’d be so fucking easier if he just-
Tony can see it. He can see it, he can see how he’s going to die, in quadratic equations and colourless obstacles and SHIELD reports and in Steve’s dreams where he wakes up screaming. He takes a breath in, holding it, because if his calculations are correct, this is the last one.
"Steve," he says, and it’s enough. It is.
But Steve is still Steve, and he’s still Cap, and he’s still that scrawny guy who’s lost enough and buried too many people and he screams Tony’s name like he doesn’t notice the hole in his gut that’s spilling with blood.
Tony holds his breath, pulling his lips back so he’s baring his teeth, because Tony Stark was always going to go out fighting.
"I love you," he says, and he knows that everyone’s going to pick this up. That every one of the Avengers, of his family, is going to be holding their hands to their comms, no matter what they’re fighting.
That Bruce- the hulk- is going to be roaring and Natasha is going to be pressing her lips together as her knife arcs downwards, and Clint’s finger is going to pause on the bow and Thor’s hammer is going to falter, and Steve-
And Steve, and Steve, and Steve, and Tony closes his eyes.
He keeps that last sight, though- bright blue like the arc reactor, like the flow of his mother’s dress, like smudges of watercolours on Natasha’s wrist as they paint, like Bruce’s pupils if the light catches them just right-
Blue, like Steve’s eyes in the morning. Blue, like Steve shoving him up against a wall and kissing the living shit out of him. Blue, like Steve carding his hand through his hair and bending down.
Blue, like the only thing he’s ever known and ever wanted to know. Blue, like a hand curling around the back of his head and tilting his face upwards.
Blue, like coming home after being away for a long time.
The very last thing that he hears before the blue swallows him again is,
The start of my sleeve with Karrie Arthurs at Blackbird Electric Tattoo in Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Two more sittings on this one.
so other than that, mrs. lincoln, how was the play
i found myself on omegle
like are you fucking kidding me there were 44,000 people online but i’m still forever alone