okay so everyone’s making “steve rogers freaks out the media with his rampant progressivism” posts but
bruce banner, who has lived in poverty, who has been an undocumented worker, who has seen what happens in sweatshops in india and greenhouses in colombia, fighting to dismantle capitalism and take down the exploitive conditions that come with it
bruce banner, who isn’t doing anything with the massive salary tony pays him for “R&D work” (actually just him and tony in the lab but, hey, tony likes giving people stuff even if they don’t particularly want or need it) so he spends it all on a fund for abused children and personally hires lawyers and therapists for them because maybe he can’t have kids of his own but he can make damn sure that no one goes through what he went through
bruce banner, who fights against climate change and fracking and tapping national parks for resources, and tony ends up making a whole campaign around it called “go green with hulk” which bruce gets very annoyed by but “it tested well with focus groups, jolly green” so it goes through anyway and becomes massively popular
bruce going a little green around the pupils if someone so much as breathes the word “autism” and “vaccine” in the same sentence (and more than a little green if they insinuate that having an autistic child is a bad thing)
bruce fighting for universal health care
bruce working to destigmatize mental illness
bruce hulking out on the set of fox & friends (which predictably becomes a meme)
Hemingway goes up to the counter and orders one espresso. It’s hot. He drinks it in silence. It makes him remember his father’s cabin. He thinks about the woman he loved once. He does not smile. The coffee reminds him of war - short but painful, swallowed down quickly. One could order worse drinks. He leaves Starbucks and walks out into the rain.
that soulmates tattoo au thing where bucky barnes is intrigued by “and what the hell are you lookin’ at tough guy" up his arm and somewhere across Brooklyn Steve Rogers is rolling his eyes at "cool it dollface, was checkin’ out the goods is all" scrawled across his chest.
also that whole tale of aragorn and arwen thing where he saw her in the woods at twenty and fell instantly in love and it’s very beren and luthien? lies.
aragorn decided he was going to marry arwen when he was like, six.
and everyone thought it was just the cutest thing, baby estel with his little crush on the great immortal evenstar, and everyone would tease him about it relentlessly and he would get so mad, and pout, because how dare they doubt his word.
(arwen spent a lot of time biting back smiles and nodding very seriously when aragorn brings this up with her. no, estel, I do not know why they are laughing perhaps they have remembered a particularly funny joke.)
and then aragorn grows into this gangly teen and oh my god can you imagine being a pimply greasy teenager around fucking elves it’s a wonder he has any self-image left. His voice breaks every other word and the laundresses are beginning to wonder if something is wrong with the sheets because estel keeps washing them himself and aragorn wants to die, god, arwen is never going to marry him if he stays all elbows and skinny knees and he can’t even look her in the eye anymore without blushing, eye contact is probably something to look for in a husband—
(arwen, who never had to go through puberty because elves don’t do anything so undignified, tries to comfort him by saying she likes his blemishes. aragorn gives her a look of such utter, miserable despair that she starts laughing.)
(this is a mistake. he spends the next three weeks nursing his wounded ego and refusing to see her.)
estel is twenty when he asks for her hand. he is lean, slender and fair as a new tree, and so arwen does not feel guilt in kissing his cheek and gently refusing. he is still green, he will weather greater storms than this—and he takes it as he should, clasping her hand and swearing to ever be her loyal friend.
they write to each other—when she is in lorien, when he wanders with the rangers of the north, fights alongside gondor, travels to distant lands. it is an inconstant tie—he is rarely afforded time enough to put pen to paper; she is reserved so as not to encourage what may not be. (she signs her letters always, your friend. She likes him too well to be cruel in this.)
the years pass. his weariness and strife creeps onto the page, and she sends him tokens to fend off the darkness—leaves from lothlorien, the ribbon from her hair, snippets of poems. it is not enough it is never enough I am sorry, she writes.
his reply is gentle: you are enough. do not stop writing.
(she carries that letter tucked inside her sleeve for a long while, like a talisman—though against what evil, she does not know.)
she is in the house of her grandmother when a familiar voice calls out to her: my lady luthien!
this is when arwen looks up, sees aragorn—broad of chest and rugged, still wearing his battered mail, with one hand balanced lazily on the pommel of his sword. All the trees of caras galadhon are gold but he is shadow and silver, kingliness resting lightly on his shoulders—
If you kill a person, you’re a murderer. If you steal, no one would hesitate to call you a thief. But in America, when you force yourself on someone sexually, some people will jump through flaming hoops not to call you a rapist.
As reported by Al Jazeera America, colleges across the country are replacing the word “rape” in their sexual assault policies with “non-consensual sex” because schools don’t want label students “rapists”.