Feb. 17th, 2017

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Starfleet Uniforms: 2266

Star Trek: The Original Series

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“Imagine if people had been going ‘don’t fight hate with hate’ back when Hitler was around.”

Fam…let me tell you bout Poland.

Let me tell you about how the entire rest of Europe sat ack and watched the invasion of Poland because they thought it would be “improper” to send military aid. How they were unwilling to enforce the treaties that Germany was breaking, because that would make them “just as bad.” They sat back and wrote strongly worded letters while fascists grew in power because they didn’t want to dirty their hands. They thought reasonable discussion and politics would be enough to stop a fascist dictator from rising to power.

Spoiler alert: it wasn’t enough.

like yes, people literally did try that argument then too. 

Everywhere there’s fascists there are fascist apologists hiding under the guise of pacifism, ready to enable their shit and demonize resistance. 
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So here is the thing, my friends. I have been working on a plotty ID porn story for about 2 years, and I really love it, and I *really* want to finish it. Now, I have it 100% plotted out, but despite knowing what needs to happen, I am experiencing a writer’s block around the 45k mark. If you guys could read along with me and give me feedback, I would be eternally grateful. I have been debating posting this while in progress for months, but I have been a little gunshy. Since I started it so long ago, it will probably go through a fairly significant face-lift before it makes it to AO3.

All this having been said, I do welcome critical feedback, BUT it’s in a vulnerable writing stage (and I really love it a lot a lot a lot) so please don’t be mean. 

The prologue and chapter one will be posted over on Imzy (I feel that it’s just more friendly to long text and the comment-and-reply system is WAAAAAAAAAAAAY better). If you could be kind enough to give me your thoughts, I would appreciate it very much!

I’ll post separate links for each chapter and thank you in advance!

Also - if you do not have an Imzy account and don’t want to make one, I’m pretty sure you can still read the post (I’m still new to Imzy so let me know if you can’t) and if you can’t comment, feel free to come back to tumblr and send me a message. 
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AU where Steve is found by Hydra rather than SHIELD, and rescued by Nat and Clint. Identity porn all around - no one knows that Captain America is alive, all identities are secret.
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AU where Steve is found by Hydra rather than SHIELD, and rescued by Nat and Clint. Identity porn all around - no one knows that Captain America is alive, all identities are secret.
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Shakespearean insults, with cats.

7 more here.

I did not realize how very perfect cats were at delivering Shakespeare’s insults until now.

every time a post like this comes back around I am reminded that a fucking porn blog picked up my old tumblr name when I changed to this one
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@whatdoyoumeanitsnotawesome said: 

I would like some Socialist!Steve Rogers making fox news/drumpf’s head explode by calling them on their shit on a national stage.

“Now, you all know, Captain America kept out of the presidential race – great guy, tremendous guy, how can you not love Captain America? – but I feel sure if he allowed himself to be political, he’d be for making America great again. The values of the forties, when we worked hard and fought for what we believed in, when people knew where they belonged – I think if he could speak publicly he’d say, good job, President Trump. Because he represents the people, too, and the people elected me – by a giant landslide, an enormous record-breaking – “ 


Steve had thought, long and hard, considering the talk shows, the various social media platforms, and the other methods of publicity available to him. He finally decided on YouTube, though he did let them film him on something slightly better than a phone video camera. 

He talked to the organizers; he asked them if they were sure; and when the time came, during the protest rally, he walked up to the podium in jeans and a #RESIST t-shirt, and he could tell for a minute nobody knew who he was. 

“Good morning,” he said, using the smile and the voice he’d practiced selling bonds, seventy years ago. “My name is Steve Rogers. I came to march with you today.” 

A ripple went through the crowd.

“My mother and father were immigrants. My mother was a single working mother. As a child I saw Pinkertons trying to break the unions, breaking strikes with bats and brass knuckles. I heard my friends’ parents tell stories about the Triangle Shirtwaist fire where people died because there was no federal safety regulation, because they were disposable – women, immigrants, Jews. I was born in the last Gilded Age, and I lived through every hungry year of the Depression that it led to,” he said, voice gaining momentum. “My ma died because she couldn’t afford treatment. Because it was a doctor for her or a doctor for me but not both.”

There was a roar from the crowd. 

“And I saw Americans thrown into camps, and I saw “colored” drinking fountains, and I saw Americans who had to join separate regiments to defend freedom because of the color of their skin, so I know what the values of the 1940s were!” he yelled. “Don’t you tell me people knew their place! Don’t you tell me they weren’t shoved into place by Pinkertons and cops because I saw it happen! I didn’t survive 1940 to see it come round again!” 

He glanced to the side, wondering if he’d gone too far, but the woman who’d told him it was okay to speak was grinning and gesturing for him to continue.

“So the President can be very clear about where Captain America stands,” Steve continued, “I’d like him to know that I am a lefty socialist anti-racist son of immigrants and I’m here today for open borders, socialized healthcare, equality in justice, and the death of fascism. You’re right about one thing – I am a tremendous man, and I am allowing myself to be political.” 


Yet another leak out of the White House today concerning the behavior of the president. Sources say last night President Trump was treated in the Residence for a broken hand, which the White House official statement says is a stress fracture from signing paperwork. Our source states that the President overturned furniture, threatened Secret Service agents, and broke his hand punching a wall. All this after witnessing the mega-viral BE POLITICAL youtube video recorded by Steve Rogers, Manhattan’s own Captain America, at a protest rally yesterday afternoon…
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When Tony was…probably five??

Aaaah so cute 💖 I love the soft colors @ultimatesue
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Fox News’ Shepard Smith called Trump out for his BS — and his conservative viewers are livid

The sheer absurdity of people calling for this guy’s head because he contradicts their bubble of “safe news” (via one Twitter comment in the article) when they will happily believe anything else that comes out of Fox, no matter how thoroughly illogical it is, as long as it fits in their bubble just boggles my mind.

The lengths that people will go to protect their own delusions is baffling.
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(I have wanted to write this…forever)

Steve, perhaps wisely, refused to let go of her. Natasha might have tried to confiscate her; also, she might have made a break for freedom.

“Steve,” Clint said, rubbing his forehead. “Where did you find the honey badger?”

“She found me,” Steve insisted, as the large mass of seething hatred squirmed around to lick his chin. “When we were escaping Stilt Man’s collapsing lair.”

“Never trust the structural integrity of anything built by a guy on stilts,” Tony told Rhodey, who nodded knowingly. 

“I think he was keeping her as a pet,” Steve said. He offered her a bite of his hamburger. She looked at him, looked at the bite, then reached around him and swiped the rest of the burger off his plate. “Look how SMART she is! Can I keep her?”

“Say no,” Bruce told Tony.

“You’re responsible for cleaning up after her,” Tony said to Steve, who nodded frantically. Under his arm, Liberty the Honey Badger Avenger made a purring noise and began dismantling an empty Pepsi can with her claws. 
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Leelee’s 3k+ Followers Thank You Giveaway!

Header by @slaughterme-barnes

So this giveaway was supposed to happen like almost 500 followers ago so here I am finally getting off my booty and doing it! Woo! I’d like to thank each and every one of my followers for continuing to put up with me. Ya’ll are the best!

Grand Prize:

Click This Link For A Full Run Down Of All Items In Prize (x)

*Update: Grand prize now includes Civil War Bucky Funko Pop

Runner-Up/2nd Place Prize: 

Click This Link For A Full Run Down Of All Items In Prize (x)

Third Place Prize:

Click This Link For A Full Run Down Of All Items In Prize (x)

Fourth Place Prize:

Click This Link For A Full Run Down Of All Items In Prize (x)

Fifth Place Prize:

Click This Link For A Full Run Down Of All Items In Prize (x)

The Rules:

You must be following me! (I will check as this is a thank you giveaway for my followers)

Must reach 200 notes or this never happened. 

1 Reblog = 1 Entry. (Likes only count as bookmarks. You may reblog as many times as you like I just ask you to be courteous and not spam your followers)

No Giveaway Blogs (Again I will check)

I will ship internationally. You must be comfortable giving me your address if you win. 

Giveaway Ends March 31st 2017 at 11:59 EST!
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A.G. Schneiderman Issues Urgent Fraud Alert On “ICE” Immigration Scams

Attorney General’s Alert Follows New Reports Of Fraudsters Posing As ‘ICE’ Agents, Threatening To Detain Immigrants Unless They Pay Up

“The Attorney General’s office has received a number of reports of unsolicited calls or in-person inquiries from fake immigration officials. For example, one immigrant living in Queens was approached by four men dressed as ICE agents. The purported ICE “agents” told the man that he was going to be detained unless he gave them all of his money.

Attorney General Schneiderman reminds New Yorkers of these common forms of immigration fraud:

Being Approached by Fake ICE Agents. Official Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents will never ask you for money or threaten detainment or deportation if you do not pay them. ICE agents also do not have the authority to enter your household without a warrant signed by a judge.

Unsolicited Calls From Fake Officials: One of the most common immigration services scams are unsolicited calls or text messages from someone claiming to be a government official or law enforcement officer that make threats such as deportation. Often times the number on caller ID may look like a legitimate government number. The United States Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) and the Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) will never request payment over the phone, so immigrants should be wary of scammers that ask for any sensitive or personal information, demand payment and threaten deportation if you do not comply.

Notario Fraud: In many Latin American countries a “notario” refers to someone who has the authority to render legal services. Unscrupulous “notaries” who are not attorneys often rely on this misunderstanding to exploit immigrants. They charge immigrants excessive application fees without ever submitting applications to the immigration authorities or may induce deportation by submitting applications for relief for which the immigrant is not eligible for or did not request.

Misrepresenting Legal Credentials: Individuals may falsely claim to be attorneys or wrongly suggest that they are able to appear before the immigration agencies or court. They take advantage of immigrants who will unknowingly pay exorbitant fees for their services. By misrepresenting their qualifications, these individuals can have a detrimental impact on the immigrants with whom they work. For example, immigrants who take advice from and work with these individuals may waive their right to obtain legal residency, be unnecessarily deported, or become subject to civil and/or criminal liability for the filing of false claims.

Fraudulent Promises to Expedite Process: This type of fraud concerns individuals who contend that they know employees at immigration offices who can expedite the processing of their clients applications. Accordingly, they request high fees for this special service, but fail to provide it.

Misinformation Fraud: Under this type of fraud, a provider will typically provide inaccurate or false information to the immigrant concerning his or her eligibility for an adjustment of status under a particular law. In these cases, the immigrant is usually not aware that they have been a victim of fraud until they receive a letter of ineligibility from immigration authorities. The provider knows the immigrant is not entitled to relief, or ineligible, but will file the application with immigration authorities regardless.

Immigration Affinity Fraud: Some providers target immigrants belonging to their same ethnic or racial group. Accordingly, they seek to gain advantage over other providers by claiming to identify with the ethnic, racial, national origin or community-based affiliations of the immigrant group.

Unauthorized Practice of the Law: Individuals may not be licensed to practice law but present themselves as attorneys or immigration law experts capable of providing legal advice and services.

Attorney General Schneiderman provided these key tips to avoid getting scammed:

Only work with a licensed lawyer or an authorized provider.

Never sign blank applications or documents you do not understand.

Do not make payments over the phone or via email.

Read the full announcement here and please share!

En Español   

@copperbadge thought you might want to reblog this, seeing as you’ve been signal boosting other posts about ICE agents

Jesus Horatio Christ some people are just scum. It’s like someone sat down and said “What could I do that’s WORSE than being an ICE agent” and thought “I know, being a FAKE ICE agent to EXTORT MONEY from people.” 
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A digital painting of the ol’ Captain. ~8 hours in Adobe Photoshop CC

Commissions | Patreon
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I’ve decided to stray away from strictly following the prompts on my 52 short stories in 52 weeks list, because I feel that I will never progress on my WiPs if I’m spending all my writing energy on filling the prompts. However, I do still plan to stick to putting out at least one chapter/story/what have you a week, and I may still occasionally fill a specific prompt. 

Here’s the next section of Incubus!AU Steve for week 8. :D

Just shy of 3,000 words, check for the cut.

Chapter OneChapter Four

The pen came flying out of nowhere. Tony flinched at the last second, but it hit harmlessly across his upper arm, bounced off to clatter on the table, and then rolled off the side and hit the carpet. It managed to land perfectly upright in the heavy pile, and Tony had the absurd urge to reach down and flick it over.

Pepper lifted both eyebrow at him. “If it weren’t for the fact that I know you can’t be enthralled, I would think you’d been enthralled,” she said.

Tony loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt. Despite making a few vague you don’t have to do that, Tony noises, Pepper still leaned forward to put one gentle finger on Tony’s ward. It was barely visible with the bright light from the windows and florescent above them, but she traced the edge quickly and sat back.

“So this is just the regular, non-magical kind of enthrallment,” she decided. Her face twisted weirdly – eyebrows wanting to narrow down in disappointment, but eyes bright with happiness, mouth pulled down at one side and up at the other. She made a frustrated noise. “I can’t decide if I want to just be happy for you, or smack you over the head with all the work you’re not getting done while you’re mooning over this guy.”

“Why not do both?” Tony offered. He leaned forward slightly so the back of his head was reachable, and Pepper laughingly tapped him with a handful of papers.

“I’m not even sure how to handle you like this,” she said once Tony had straightened up and her papers had been returned to the table, neatly smoothed out and precisely arranged. “It’s been two months, and I was a little surprised when it lasted more than two days.”

“You’re fishing,” Tony realized, “You’re trying to get me to dish about my new beau!” He fluttered his eyelashes and her and put a hand to the base of his throat. Pepper glared at him, but a flush spread under her eyes and across her nose. Tony propped his chin in his hand to just look at her – she had such an expressive face and she changed colors so quickly and so noticeably that it was almost an anti-chameleon response. He’d seen her go red from her hairline all the way to her chest when she was angry, and even the tips of her ears flushed red when she changed colors.

“Fine!” Pepper said, “Yes I am. You’ve been very secretive about him.”

“He’s not my dirty secret, Pep. I’m not just… using him for the phenomenal sex.”

Pepper’s eyes softened and the color faded slowly from her cheeks. Her eyebrows did that slight scrunching thing in the middle. “Are you sure he’s not using you for the free meal with the phenomenal sex?”

Tony shrugged. “Does it matter?” Pepper’s eyes widened her expression shifted toward ‘disappointed’ so Tony hurriedly continued, “I can’t have normal relationships with people, Pep. You know that. The press would serve him up with a side salad and chocolate cake for desert. I like him, I enjoy his company, he’s smart, and he’s an artist, and he has great taste in automobiles – seriously, an affinity for them like you wouldn’t believe. He doesn’t expect anything out of me, and he doesn’t get angry when I get wrapped up in work and don’t call for three days.  He’s never asked me for anything, he’s a cuddler, and did I mention the sex? Fantastic, lose feeling in your toes, incoherent babbling sex. He gets a good safe meal out of it, I get lots of orgasms, and we watch Netflix on the couch like normal people. It’s fine. It works.”

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Pepper said with a stubborn tilt to her chin.

Tony liked the way her nose scrunched up a little when she was being Serious, though he was smarter than to tell her that she was cute when she was feeling protective. He smiled and just watched her for a few seconds, and she just looked back at him without a trace of awkwardness. Tony wanted to blurt out I love you, but bit it back at the last second.

“You are probably one of maybe… three people on the entire planet who think it’s even possible for me to be hurt.”

She rolled her eyes at him, but the blush was back as two faint smears under her eyes. The color made her eyes glow and her freckles stand out.

“How’s Huggybear?” Tony asked before they could slide even further into Moment realm. “Still snoring like a sawmill and stealing all the covers?”

Pepper threw another pen at him, and then one more for good measure, but she covered her eyes with one hand and said, “So loud.”

Tony laughed. “I did warn you.”

She’d run out of pens to throw at him, so she threw her sandwich wrapper instead. “Now can we please finish this press release?”


Tony dropped back to the bed, struggling to remember how to breathe and swallow at the same time. His abdominal muscles kept twitching violently, and his legs were trembling like newborn puppies. Steve curled carefully over him, warm and purring, and nuzzled happily into his neck. Tony had always loved the post-orgasmic glow on his partners, but Steve really did glow. He emitted joy like an 8 million gigawatt happiness lap, and was absolutely the best post-sex cuddler Tony had ever met. Tony curled his arms around Steve’s shoulders and laughed while his muscles continued to twitch and tremble.

Steve mouthed at his neck, licked a line up over his jaw, bit his goatee – Tony had no idea why that was sexy, but it made him twitch again – and lapped at his lips. “Hi,” he said in that rumbly after-sex voice that made Tony wish refractory times were not a thing.

Tony finally managed to figure out how to get his lips and tongue to cooperate and said, “Hello to you, too. Miss me?”

Shifting backwards, Steve rearranged himself at Tony’s side and then gathered him up in a full body hug that instantly made Tony feel safe and warm and comfortable. “You looked so hot at that press conference,” he said against Tony’s shoulder, squeezing him briefly. “I knew I shouldn’t have watched it, but I just couldn’t help myself. You make me understand the phrase power suit.”

A laugh found its way up from Tony’s chest. He twisted to press his nose to the warm blush on Steve’s cheeks. “You do have a thing for my suits,” he agreed.

“I don’t fantasize much,” Steve confessed, “Not about… not whole scenarios, just usually. Well. But I wanted to be at that press conference. I wanted to climb up on the stage and strip you out of that million dollar suit right in front of all those people.” He shivered and tucked his head down to hide against Tony’s shoulder. “I really really did. I had to lock myself in the bathroom.”

Tony groaned. “You are a gift from some god that I’ve made really happy,” he babbled. “What the hell did I do to earn you, because I swear I will keep doing it.” He thought about it for a second and then groaned again. “Or someone I pissed off. I am never going to be able to do another press conference again.”

Steve laughed, squirming around in obvious embarrassment and arousal, which was doing things for Tony, refractory period or no refractory period. He tucked himself tighter to Steve’s body, and Steve drew a blanket up over their hips. He nibbled gently at the back of Tony’s neck and started to purr again. His chest vibrated against Tony’s back, setting a wave shivers loose down his spine and making him feel like he was glowing. He understood, intellectually, that the warm-fuzzy feeling was Steve feeding on his energy, but it wasn’t anything he wasn’t already leaking out into the air, and it felt nice. He never understood the demonizing of feeling nice, and privately thought that the world would be a lot better off if everyone had an incubus to make them feel warm and comfortable and nice.

“I’m sorry for just barging over without being invited,” Steve said finally, but his purring didn’t stop, and his fingers drifted lovingly up and down Tony’s arm.

“You don’t need an invitation,” Tony told him, “And besides… couldn’t leave you trapped in a bathroom.”

Steve laughed breathlessly and managed to wedge himself even further under Tony’s shoulder. “I was at work, Tony. It was embarrassing.”

Tony made a noncommittal noise. “Next time you should just call me. Phone sex is a thing.”

“Oh, gods,” Steve moaned, “I would die.”

Tony laughed and reached back to wrap a hand to card his fingers in Steve’s hair. He could feel the heat of Steve’s blush against the back of his neck. A smile took up residence on his face that felt permanent. Steve set his teeth against Tony’s shoulder and bit gently. They fell quite, heart rates slowly coming down, fever heat changing to simple warmth. Steve’s fingers kept up a constant lazy dance on Tony’s skin.

“Tony?” Steve asked after a long minute of quiet. When Tony hummed a noise of acknowledgement he pressed himself up on an elbow and leaned over Tony’s side to trace a finger over his ward. The ward prickled at the touch of a Seducer, but not badly enough for Tony to push him away. “Why did you get a tattoo ward? Most people just jewelry, or carry around a card.”

“Paper and jewelry wards only work as long as they’re against the skin, and they break if they get worn away. They’re good, but they’re fallible, and they can be taken away. My father warded me when I was a kid.”

Steve’s disapproval could be felt in the air between them, rumbling like a distant storm. “He tattooed you when you were a kid?”

Tony shrugged. “I was twelve. There had been a kidnapping scare. Enthralling the kid of one of the largest weapon’s manufacturers in the world? Probably seemed like a good idea to at least one Seducer.”

“But you were so young,” Steve protested, “Your body, your energy – it changes. No tattoo that you got when you were twelve would continue to function for more than a year, maybe less. He would have had to redo it every year.”

The warm-glowy feeling was starting to fade. Tony turned so he was on his back with Steve’s bulk leaning over him. “I was kidnapped three times between ages fourteen and nineteen. They all tested my ward, none of them were successful. Dad never paid the ransom, just tore down the organizations that had me. After that last time, everyone was pretty sure that my ward was stable, and I stopped getting it redone.”

Steve laid his palm over the golden ward, his expression turning thunderous, his purr turning into a growl. “I would have done worse than just torn the organizations down,” he rumbled.

Tony’s lips twitched upwards, and put a hand over Steve’s. The ward’s buzzing had started to get uncomfortable – it must have felt like a nest of bees trapped under his palm for Steve. He gently moved his hand away from the ward and his heart instead.

“It was flawed…It failed, in Afghanistan.” Tony wasn’t sure why he said it – he didn’t talk about Afghanistan to anyone, not even Rhodey, and Rhodey was the one who picked him up out of the sand and brought him home. He cleared his throat. “It did its job, but not well enough. So I made it better, I made it air-tight. There isn’t a force on this planet that could overpower it now.”

Tony felt Steve’s gaze sharpen on his face. Steve sounded horrified when he observed, “You’ve tested it.”

“Of course. I had to know it could take the stress. Even Bruce can’t break through it, and Bruce could Seduce someone over the phone if he wanted to.”

Steve didn’t say anything else, but he lowered his chest so he was all but smothering Tony, throwing a leg over his hips and tugging him under his body. Tony laughed, twisting until his chin was wedged up on Steve’s shoulder. Steve was heavy, and it wouldn’t be comfortable for long, but it felt nice for the moment. Tony reached down and dragged the blanket up over their heads to make Steve feel more sheltered. The growling faded slowly and Steve shifted his weight sideways so he wasn’t entirely on top of Tony anymore.

“Can you not do that anymore?” Steve asked in a small voice. He tucked his face into Tony’s neck and tugged Tony over tighter with his leg.

“Sure,” Tony agreed blithely. He didn’t need to test the ward any more, though he’d need to touch it up in a few years. If Steve was still around in a few years, maybe he would ask Steve to test it for him.


It was a familiar one. Tony still didn’t remember how he’d escaped the cave in Afghanistan and his imagination liked to make up a few options for him. Sometimes, he dreamt that he’d turned into a bird and flown out through a fissure in the cave wall. Most of the time, it was fire. The world around him turned red-orange-blue-white, and it burned. He dreamt that he walked through the fire while the Ten Rings Soldiers burnt around him. He dreamt that he carried Yinsen’s corpse through the flames, that everywhere he walked, fire followed. He dreamt that Yinsen turned to ash in his arms and blew away with the firestorm.

He dreamt of blue sky, red sand. And of falling.

Tony woke with a jerk. His body was wracked with shivers, and the blankets were stiflingly hot. He was alone in the bed, and the sun was beating down through the windows. His room was decorated in greens and grays, not a scrap of sand-red to be found. From the angle and intensity of the light, he guessed that it was after noon, and felt out along the sheets. They were cold, but he found a sheet of paper. It felt strange and too-dry against his fingertips after the nightmare.

Running his free hand down his face, Tony sat up and turned the page over.

Had to work, didn’t want to wake you. Sweet dreams, it read. Steve had doodled a picture of himself on his junker motorcycle driving away from Stark Tower, with a thought bubble over his head of Tony in a suit. The last vestiges of nightmare-chills faded and Tony smiled at the doodle.

“Can you add this to the file, Jarvis?” he called, dropping the page on the floor so Jarvis could get a scan of it.

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis answered readily enough, but Tony could still hear the faintest hint of offense in his voice – or maybe Tony was just projecting. He hadn’t introduced Steve to Jarvis yet. Jarvis was still a secret project. If the wrong people figured out what he’d managed to accomplish, Jarvis would be at risk, and Tony might end up in jail. He trusted Steve and he didn’t think that Steve would ever breathe a word about Jarvis’ existence if Tony told him not to, but he’d been wrong about people before. He was willing to risk himself on a pretty damn strong hunch, but not Jarvis.

Tony stretched out sideways on the bed, grabbing Steve’s abandoned pillow and cuddling it into his chest. “Jarvis?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Are you happy like this? With what I’ve made you?”

Jarvis was quiet for several long moments, and then said, “It is a different sort of life than I led when I had a body. In many ways, it is more freeing. I am pleased to be alive, sir, and prefer it to the alternative.”

Tony nodded. He’d asked the question in so many words before, but it was something he worried about in the quieter moments. He had fledgling AI – U and Dum-E – and given another decade, they might have the kind of autonomy that Jarvis did. But no one had ever managed to breakdown a human’s essence and integrate it into a computer program. It wasn’t technically necromancy – there was no body involved – but Tony wanted to have his research in order before anyone found out what he’d done. He didn’t want the religious nuts and Anti-Fae shitbags to get their hands on before he could prove that it was science, not magic. Jarvis was not a very expensive Ouija board, reaching out to the dead from beyond the grave. He was every bit as alive as he’d been when he still had a body, he just moved through the Internet like a fish in water, and had access to every piece of information ever put online. Nothing to be scared of.

“You seem introspective this morning, sir,” Jarvis noted.

Stretching, Tony finally forced himself up and out of the bed. “I just want you to be happy and safe. Is that so strange? Besides,” he added before Jarvis could respond, “Happy Safe Jarvis is less likely to take over the planet and enslave humanity than Mad Threatened Jarvis.”

“Of course, sir,” Jarvis said graciously, “Your concern for my wellbeing is merely proactive self-defense.”

“You know me so well!” Tony called as he headed for the shower.
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Ballerina Amelie Segarra dances the en pointe ballet technique (in which the performer typically dances on the points of their toes) on the tips of huge, menacing kitchen knives in an empty, darkened theater on a grand piano. 


So the video is not what I was expecting (what was I expecting from a ballerina wearing knife shoes? I don’t know), but still exactly as creepy as I thought it would be. 


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