tony tony tony







me: fuck joss whedon i hate his ugly ass 

me: AVeNGERS prOMO next WEEK!!!!!!!! #SQUAD 


Excuse me may i have a moment of ur time 

but uh reblog if u would be interested in a project for steve because not only MCU Steve but other universes of Steve need more love 

we need more Steve centric things and im sure many would agree 

reblog this 


looks like iron man has a heart after all.


Every day I struggle between “I wanna look good naked” and “treat yo self.”

Anonymous: Steve aching to be with Tony, but it's never the right time. He's dating Pepper or Rumiko or Ty, his company is collapsing, he's supporting that stupid SHRA bill, his mind's been wiped, etc etc. So he aches and aches and sometimes can't even look at the man (and you can decide if they end up together or not)


Steve is in the middle of it by the time he even notices, and at that point he doesn’t even know Tony’s Iron Man, just that he gets the same twist in his gut whenever he’s with them.

After his identity gets revealed to the team, Tony pulls Steve aside and starts to apologize about lying to him, but Steve cuts him off and assures him it’s water under the bridge. He has to struggle to keep himself from grinning, because they’re the same person, Steve doesn’t have to feel guilty about having feelings for them both.

He’s thinking about asking Tony out, he even has a restaurant picked out when Clint makes an offhand comment about Tony stepping out with Pepper again and Steve’s heart sinks.

There’ll be another time, he assures himself, and when Tony comes into the kitchen for breakfast half an hour later, he wills the knot of disappointment down.


Steve goes on a mission with Hawkeye and Tony breaks up with Pepper, or she breaks up with him, and by the time Steve finds out, Tony is seeing a girl called Rumiko.

There’ll be another time, Steve tells himself distractedly, and turns off the TV, where the news reporter had been saying how SI is being run into the ground.


The heavy hits start coming soon after that. 

The next few years are a whirlwind, Steve can hardly keep track of what’s happening to whom and when it happened. He still sees Tony, on and off the battlefield, but it’s in between their teammates dying and getting brought back to life, in between missions and paperwork.

They used to take on villians-of-the-week, pissed off superhumans or scientists who want what they think they’re owed, but now they’re stopping apocalypses.

They both get thrown through a few near-death experiences, and Rumiko dies in Tony’s arms and then he’s too much of a wreck for Steve to even think about asking him to start a relationship.

Steve makes sure Tony doesn’t drown in his own vomit and wonders wistfully if they’ll ever make that date.


Downhill seems like the only direction for months, and somehow Steve finds himself standing ready to bring his shield down to split Tony’s skull.

He gets stopped before he can do it, and afterwards- not soon afterwards, Steve’s too busy seething to think about anything but how angry he is, and Tony always knew just what buttons to push to piss Steve off- Steve tries to think if he would have done it, if no-one had stopped him.

If he does think about being with Tony, it’s always tinged with red and Steve shoves the thoughts away as soon as they surface.


Steve dies.

Steve dies, and he wakes up gasping, and the world’s changed again, though this time only months have passed instead of decades.

He doesn’t see Tony for almost a year, and when he does he almost flinches back, because Tony looks even worse than he did in the news footage.

He doesn’t think about being with Tony- there are too many bridges burned.


The world needs a team, a year later, and Steve was so, so sure that he was done with Tony, finally.

You always did prove me wrong, Steve thinks, not sure if it’s angry or resentful or just tired, as Tony explains who their new teammates are going to be without meeting Steve’s eyes.

He looks better, now. There’s more of him, he isn’t caving into himself in more ways than one. He’s clean-shaven, his clothes are neat, and if there are dark circles under his eyes, that’s nothing new.

Steve surprises both of them by laughing at a joke Tony dryly tosses out, and Steve chews on his cheek when it ends. Damnit. Damnit, damnit, damnit.

Distantly, as Tony blinks in surprise, Steve remembers a quote he’s heard, maybe from a movie night years ago that he aches to think about now: What’s the difference, between the love of your life, and a soulmate?

Steve watches Tony’s mouth move, feeling so, so tired, and remembers the voice continuing: one is a choice. And one is not.


Steve thinks they might be climbing their way out of the hole they’ve been digging deeper for years, and after a while they’re almost- not quite, but close enough- back to how they used to be, even though there’s more tension than there was years ago, even though they skirt around some subjects and their arguments hurt more.

He’s accepted long ago that he would always carry this torch for Tony, nestling in the back of his chest even as he dated Sharon on-and-off, even when things were bad, god, even when he hated Tony it was still there, flickering and burning Steve’s insides.

When Steve remembers the mindwipe, the mindwipe Tony’s been hiding from him for months, he makes his way down to Tony’s workshop and thinks that he should have known, of course things couldn’t be the way they were, of course, of fucking course things couldn’t be this good.

He betrayed me, Steve thinks. He screwed me over, he pretended to be my friend, he used me-

He breaks Tony’s jaw; denies the flickering lurch in his chest, shoves it down. 


The ensuing fight is intense, dragged across the future and alternate dimensions, because everything is far too complicated now, they can’t do anything without time-space getting messed up.

You need to kill me, Tony tells him. And I don’t think you can do that, can you, Steve?

He looks Steve in the eyes as he says it, bland as anything, and Steve grits his teeth, remembers raising his shield, getting ready to bring it down.

They don’t end up killing Tony- or, well, they do, and Steve’s chest twists against his will, because he knows he deserves it, but the pain stays.

But Tony comes back, because everyone always goddamn does, except when they don’t, and Steve doesn’t look at Tony, shivering and naked and alive on the ground, as he leaves.


As many times as Steve tells himself that they’re done, really and truly, that there’s nothing Tony could ever do to make things okay again, that he’s never going to let himself care about Tony in that way again, he knows with a dull resignation that he’s always going to feel for him, even if he shoves it down and numbs it as much as he can.

It’s done, Steve tells himself. We’re done, but he’s seen this happen too many times now.

It takes another seven years, eleven near-apocalypses, a road trip, a brief mind meld, and twenty-four screaming arguments for Steve to kiss Tony for the first time, Tony’s mouth bloody from poison that he’s now immune to and Steve’s arm newly broken from getting hit with a space monster half an hour ago. It’s been a bad week.

Tony stares at Steve as he pulls back, and Steve feels is own mouth wet with Tony’s blood, and he remembers back to what seems like lifetimes ago, when he had sat in the kitchen and thought about asking Tony to dinner. Realities have been made and re-made and obliterated since then.

Steve is so, so tired of things never being simple like he wants them to be. If things were simple, maybe he could be growing old with Tony right now and none of this would have happened.

"What," Tony rasps, and his hair is getting streaks of grey in it now, and Steve touches them absentmindedly. "Steve, what?"

"We should go to dinner," Steve says, like they’re two people who bumped into each other on the street and got into a conversation and not best friends turned enemies turned Something Else Altogether who have bled into each others arms and been to each other’s funerals and fought each other to near death more than once.

Tony stares at him, blood from a cut running into his left eye. Steve brushes it away with his thumb, smearing it across half of his forehead.

"Dinner," Tony repeats disbelievingly, and they’re in a space station right now, standing in a bunker that is molding around the edges, both of them have nearly died three times in the last week, they’re exhausted and wounded and bloody and they have enough baggage that it physically hurts Steve to look at Tony sometimes, and he knows it’s mutual.

Tony licks his lips. His face is a mess of blood, now. “When are you free,” he asks, still dubious.

"I don’t have anything on Wednesday night."

Tony nods. “I can do Wednesday,” he says, and his hands are still gripping Steve’s shoulders, since they went there during the kiss. 

"Good," Steve says, looking into the face of the man who he has loved beyond description and hated mindlessly over twenty years, occasionally simultaneously. "Let’s do Wednesday."

It shouldn’t be that easy. It never is for them.


Steve shows up on Wednesday to the same restaurant he picked out almost twenty years ago to find Tony picking a napkin apart at a table in the corner.

He looks up when he sees Steve. Neither of them smile.

"Hi," Tony says.

"Hi," Steve replies, and sits down opposite him.

It’s a late start, but it’s still a start.


*sees dog while in the car*

*turns around in seat to watch dog until its out of sight* 


Marvels decisions have been so stupid lately I’m losing the will to question their stupidity. 


I’m leaving the planet. Bye

by A messy haiku - jw (via spittingpebbles)
at this time last year
i was a mess and i feel
like a mess again


for those who don’t know i used to ship stony in the past idk why i felt so nostalgic today image