everybodyilovedies:

apitnobaka:

they are arm-wrestling over you btw, cap.

"winner gets that sweet ass"
"wait. i never-"
"shhhhhh"

everybodyilovedies:

apitnobaka:

they are arm-wrestling over you btw, cap.

"winner gets that sweet ass"

"wait. i never-"

"shhhhhh"

kehinki:

the best explanations are usually the simplest 

Anonymous said: Au where tony is really awkward and steve flirts with him

everybodyilovedies:

theappleppielifestyle:

Here’s the thing:

Tony’s been flirting since he was old enough to correct his teacher on college-grade physics, which is to say twelve-ish. He had been horrible at it and people had laughed at him, but he persevered and made an image and by the time he was sixteen he had thought he was pretty good at it. Over the years, ‘pretty good’ turned into ‘second nature.’

Tony Stark can flirt while he’s distracted, can flirt while he’s coughing blood or vomit in between words, can flirt while he isn’t meaning to flirt but does it anyway because it’s so automatic to him. Sometimes it’s fun, a game he plays, but that mostly faded away a decade or two ago. Mostly it’s just- there, easy as breathing and just as instilled into him.

The point is, he can flirt. He can flirt your pants off, literally. 

Except.

Except, he realizes when he’s forty-ish and glancing at Pepper across his workshop as she lectures him- when he starts having actual feelings for people, he forgets how to breathe sometimes and all knowledge of flirting goes out the window. It’s sad, really, that he only finds this out when he’s forty, but it’s also sad because he splutters and tries feebly to regain any sense of aloofness and fails at both.

It’s pathetic. It’s eight kinds of un-Stark-ish. And more importantly, it’s embarrassing as hell, and after Tony breaks up with Pepper he expects he won’t have to go through it again.

Then Steve happens, and Tony really, really doesn’t want to go into it, because it’s just as embarrassing and stupid, but somehow he ends up one and a half years into a friendship with Steve Rogers and hasn’t fucked it up yet and isn’t entirely sure how he managed it.

But he did- somehow- and Tony sort of wants to ride the guy into the sunset, but he’s cool with eating pancakes out of the pan with him at 11 PM when neither of them can sleep. Which is a big indicator to how incredibly screwed he is, wow.

And Tony is- Tony isn’t even attractive right now, he’s been submerged in his workshop for two days straight, he’s slept about eight hours in that whole time, he has grease stains where his skin should be.

So he has no idea what the hell is happening when Tony says, pancake in hand, “Shit, this is hot,” and Steve replies, “It’s not the only thing,” and looks at him from under his eyelashes.

Tony freezes, pancake halfway to his mouth. Then he hisses and drops it back into the pan, because, seriously, hot. He side-eyes Steve, who is still looking at him like that, all sultry and kind of nervous.

They’re standing close together, Tony realizes. If Tony leaned to his right a few inches, they’d be kissing. 

Tony should probably say something. If Steve was a model at a party, they’d already be heading to his bedroom. But it’s Steve, who is losing the sultry look and is leaning decidedly towards nervous, and fuck, Tony needs to say something now.

"Thanks, you too."

Fuck.

Steve stares as Tony struggles not to start slamming his own head into the bench. You too?

"Um," Steve says, and Tony hurries on. 

"I mean, you too. You’re hot. Also." He waves a hand at Steve, who is still staring, apparently just as confused as Tony is. 

"I’m… glad we got that out of the way," Steve says slowly. "The fact we’re both hot."

"Mm-hm," Tony says, voice a little too high, biting into a scolding pancake out of lack of things to do with his hands. Or his mouth. Shit, he should be kissing Steve. He should’ve kissed him, and he can’t kiss him now because he’s chewing a dastardly hot pancake.

He chews faster to get rid of the pancake quicker, which makes Steve raise his eyebrows, and Tony realizes how weird it must look and forces himself to chew slower.

God. Tony is a disgrace. He’s going to crawl back into his workshop and never come out after he pries himself from this conversation.

"Um," Steve says again, scratching the back of his neck. He slouches, and then straightens again. What. "I, sorry. I thought- sorry," he says, and turns, and nope, Tony isn’t having that.

Swallowing the last of the pancake and burning his oesophagus in the process, he grabs Steve’s shoulder. “Wait.”

Steve faces him again, two-parts nervous and one-part hopeful and all parts confused as fuck. 

"I was," Tony says, and his mouth betrays him. "I can’t, I can’t flirt with people if I like them?" He’s making this expression where half of his cheek twists up and probably makes him look like he has a fishhook caught in his lip. What is he doing, Jesus. Someone kill him now, right here in this kitchen.

"It’s- my brain goes kablooey, it’s terrible," Tony continues, and he did just say kablooey, the word exited his mouth, and he is done for. And he is STILL TALKING. "It’s really, tragically embarrassing, please don’t tell the others, they’ll tease me forever. It’ll be on my gravestone."

"You can’t flirt with people you like," Steve repeats, face doing all sorts of things. Tony thinks he sees some fucked up combination of pity and amusement and pure exasperation. "Really, Tony?"

"It’s a thing. Shut up."

"You could shut me up," Steve suggests, leaning forwards, eyes doing that thing again, and oh, Tony could work with this.

He starts to say something and is incredibly glad when Steve’s mouth on his cuts him off.

this is ADORABLE

WIP - Tony, you have friends with super strength. Let them open that door for you. 

WIP - Tony, you have friends with super strength. Let them open that door for you. 

Fic: Speech

Fandom: Marvel movie-verse

Summary: There’s a bit of a language barrier there.

Steve isn’t really that much taller than Tony, but when he does that thing with the thick arms crossed over a massive chest with that handsome, all- American face twisted into a disapproving frown, Tony kind of feels like he’s only four feet tall. If that.

Read more
Fic: Find A Compromise

Fandom: Marvel, Earth-3490

Summary: Or, that time that boobs canonically prevented the Civil War

The arguments are getting worse. The problem here is that they’re both just really stubborn people. Like really stubborn. A lot of people have the wrong image of Captain America in their heads. For sure, he’s definitely all of the star spangled, all-American glory, and he’s got that boyish charm that everyone just eats up. But a lot of people don’t know how he can and does just dig his heels in and refuse to budge on any issue.

Not that she’s much better, but hey.

Read more
my greatest creation is you.

gyzym:

Oh god oh god oh god, okay. So earlier I saw this gorgeous photoset; I reblogged it, and you guys should click and check it out, it’s SO PRETTY OH MAN. letsallcry, YOU ROCK. In case you cannot click, here is what is shown: it’s two images, the top one being Howard in Captain America leaning up against a piece of his tech, and the bottom one being Tony in IM2, staring at the projection of his father’s new element. Beneath the images, there’s this Howard quote from IM2: “I’m limited by the technology of my time, but one day, you’ll figure this out.” AND BECAUSE OF THIS I’VE REALIZED SOMETHING I WISH I DIDN’T KNOW, which, now, we must talk about. 

Just for a second, try to imagine you’re Howard Stark. You’re the best engineer America has to offer, so you’re a genius—hell, for all intents and purposes, you’re the genius. In your relative youth, you are exposed to weapons created by a power source so far beyond the scope of modern technology that it’s staggering; a few years later, you locate that power source, which is still far too advanced for you to make heads or tails of. You do what you can; you help found an agency dedicated to dealing with situations such as these, you learn and design absolutely as much as you can, you apply all of your considerable genius to the problem. You do all you can, but it’s not enough. You are limited by the technology of your time. You have seen war, lost a soldier (and a friend) who you thought to be invincible—you are all too aware of your own mortality. The power source still exists, with so much untold potential it’s almost painful to look at. You could change the world, but you are running out of time. It’s not going to be enough. Even you cannot overcome the barrier that mortality presents. What do you do? 

Well, it’s pretty obvious, isn’t it. You have a child. 

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I’m limited by the technology of my time, but one day, you’ll figure this out. 

(Source: letsallcry)

it wasn’t worth it.

(Source: hiddleston)