Happy Birthday @feelingsinwinter <3 love you so much!!!!

Look at them, so soft and cuuuute ! ** Thank you so much love !

happy birthday, @feelingsinwinter 🎉🎉🎉 

(crossposted from ao3)

WOULD YOU LOOK AT THAT, IT IS WONDERFUL ** *flails happily*

Written from the fall starters! (x)(x)

Heading into the new month, the air takes on a sharper smell that brings about the specific feeling of being wrapped in freshly laundered blankets still warm from the dryer. The air is crisp and Bucky is crunching on leaves with his every step as he’s walking hand in hand with Tony.

God, Tony has somehow gotten cuter during the Fall, stunning against the backdrop of the pretty red and golden hues surrounding them.

He’s wearing Bucky’s orange beanie on his head, curls poking out around his forehead and his glasses keep incrementally slipping down his nose with every sip he takes of his coffee. 

They’re heading back to Tony’s dorm after having lunch together, cutting through the park as a shortcut when the sound of a leaf blower startles the both of them, Tony flinching into Bucky’s side. 

“It’s fine, babe, just a man wasting perfectly good leaves,” he says, rubbing circles into Tony’s back. 

“Yeah, just scared the hell out of me is all,” Tony exhales. “And don’t act like you didn’t jump too Mr. Tough Guy, that was loud as shit.’

“I didn’t jump, I was merely caught off guard is all,” Bucky tells him, tugging him closer. “Leaf blowers are such cheats anyway. Everyone knows raking is the way to go; makes jumping into the leaves more satisfactory.”

“Jump- jumping into the leaves?” 

“Yeah, Stevie and I used to do it all the time when we were younger,” Bucky says as they continue walking. “Both our Ma’s thought were were gonna get sick with how often we’d be out in the cold every day, just raking the leaves, jumping in them and then doin’ it all over again. On the other hand, the caretaker for the apartment building was thrilled by the child labour.”

“Wow, the both of you were so easy to scam,” Tony says, smiling but he’s looking back towards the park, a little wistfully.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’ve just- it sounds fun is all. I’ve never done it,” Tony admits, trying to give Bucky a reassuring smile but it just makes Bucky’s stomach uneasy. 

He forgets sometimes, just how much of Tony’s childhood was taken from him.

He has a lot of things he’d like to say, not all of them to Tony but he only asks, “What would you and your Ma do for Fall? Any traditions?”

The smile he’s graced with then is a little more real, but as they got closer to Tony’s dorm, the other boy talking about how the yearly tradition of baking Pumpkin Bread with his Ma started, he’s already trying to think of a way to get his favourite type of smile from Tony. The one that reaches his eyes and lights up his whole face and makes Bucky feel that he could do just about anything whenever it’s directed at him. 

It’s deadly, that smile. 

He drops Tony off in the lobby of his dorm, making an excuse that’s not technically a lie about forgetting to meet with Steve, and heads back to the park.

He calls Steve on the way, telling him to get his butt there and to bring Sam along. 

Steve huffs at him and tells him he’s a sap, but says he’ll be there in 20 before hanging up without a goodbye. 

The old man with the leaf blower, who’s got a name tag that reads Stan, is still at the park and he turns of the machine when he spots Bucky trying to get his attention. “What can I do you for, son?”

“Afternoon, sir. Was just wondering if you wouldn’t mind if piled up all the leaves around here? Trynna relive some childhood memories, you see and well, create new ones,” Bucky explains, colour flooding his cheeks over how ridiculous he must sound to this man.

Stan only huffs a laugh though and points to three rakes that are up against a tree. Huh. “Had a feeling I should be bringing those with me today and my feelings ain’t ever wrong. You’re more than welcome to take over. I’m tired of this anyway,” Stan tells him before walking off and leaving Bucky alone in the park.

“Well,” he stares at all the leaves Stan blew haphazardly around the trunk of a tree, “looks like it’s time to rake the leaves.”

Afficher davantage

You know what I hate about toxic heterosexual culture? The way others try and force it on people.

Like, heterosexuals are so used to it that they just....do that, to other couples, usually younger ones.

My partner and I are read as straight as treated as some sort of willing participants in this.

Like the other night, after dinner at family's house I started collecting dishes to wash them, because I'm at someone's house and that is how I was raised.

Now, boyfriend knows I'm allergic to dishsoap so he comes up and insists on doing it for me, I'm grateful and pick up a towel to dry the dishes. It was a nice moment actually, he's seen me break out in rashes and itchy awful hive things that stick around for weeks.

But to the older heterosexual couples it became fodder for how I "owned" him, he was whipped and down trodden etc. When I said, meekly (I was a little taken aback by the "haha you volunteer to do the dishes and then make him do it" when I hadn't even volunteered, I was just quietly collecting dishes and starting the process) said that he had insisted, the joke became about how he probably vaguely suggested and I pounced on it or that he would be in "big trouble" if he didn't suggest it.

I didn't bother saying I was allergic to dishsoap, I've been saying that since I was 10 and no one believed me, I could already had the jokes they would make about the "allergy", so I just shut up and kept wiping dishes and putting them away.

But this isn't new, my last relationship was also previously read as cis/het and it was always like, if I asked my partner to do anything for me it was met with "see if you can get your balls out of her purse while you're at it".

Like if the hets wanna have this culture, fine, do you. If you want to act like any kindness or request is emasculating servitude and that women are harpies, whatever. But don't try and push your miserable dynamics onto everyone else.

tony stark wielded the infinity gauntlet and didn’t even flinch from the pain. both hulk and thanos screamed like lil bitches when they put the glove on. but not my mans tony. nah bitch. he owned those stones. tony stark has the biggest dick energy in the entire mcu. iron man got an iron dick. 

y’all in the replies like “yeah but he died using them :/“ are missing the point. the point is that tony stark, human with zero superpowers, stole the stones right from thanos’ grasp and didn’t even scream in pain as the power surged through him before he even snapped his fingers.

hulk banner, a being on a similar power level as thanos, could hardly contain their power when he first slipped on the stark gauntlet and then passed out after snapping. even thanos himself yelled out in pain; 1. every time he added a stone to his gauntlet during infinity war 2. when he acquired the mind stone, completing the whole set at the end of infinity war and 3. when he stole the stark gauntlet from the heroes and put it on in endgame. and then there’s tony stark, human mortal in his early 50s, who put all six stones on at once and barely flinched at the pain.

the point isn’t “tony stark still died after using the stones”

it’s “tony stark’s iron will was so strong not even the raw power of six infinity stones surging through his mortal body could stop him from snapping”

You kind of have to take into account that Tony Stark’s pain tolerance is a LOT different to Thanos and the Hulk.

Both Thanos and the Hulk are physically tough, they don’t feel pain often. So when the stones hurt them they didn’t know how to handle it hence the screaming. They never learned how to take pain.

But Tony has been in extreme pain since 2008. The stones were just another source of suffering and something he could handle. He may not be as strong as them but pain was an old friend to him.

It’s a play on strength and endurance. Thanos and the Hulk are strong, but Tony had the endurance.

This makes me think about the whole “Stark men are made of iron” thing Howard’s always taught Tony. They shouldn’t flinch, they shouldn’t falter. And Tony didn’t. Up until the end, he was determined to do one last attempt at saving the ones he loved, even at the cost of his own life. And Tony didn’t falter at all even at the end. He didn’t flinch.

And I think that’s why his line “I am Iron Man” at the end holds even more weight. He looked Thanos straight in the eye and he handled it better than Thanos did.

Reblogging this again for the additions

“Pain was an old friend to him.” “He looked Thanos straight in the eye and he handled it better than Thanos did.” “Tony Stark’s iron will was so strong not even the raw power of six infinity stones raging through his mortal body could stop him from snapping.”

IM IN TEARS BITCH. TEARS.

also it wasn´t so well translate trough the movies but the stones dont just inflict physical pain, they in fact rearly do that they are capable to do it but dont have to

what they always do is they mess with your mind, like they totaly rip it appart, the power is to much for most people, one gem alone could turn you mad, e.g. the time stone has made people go crazy with the knowledge of what could happen

imagine all information of all realities and all posible outcomes every thought evryone is thinking at any time in any timeline, the balance of the universe, every system and every atom visualized and all it will ever do in all realitys, 

everything is pressed into your head at once, you have no chance of understanding it, of comprehending what is happening, most people go mad using the gauntlet because of that

it takes will and mental strenght to beat it, dont look back dont worry about what might be dont listen to the voices, dont get distracted by every posible outcome that might happen

FOCUS

on what you want to do, one wrong thought and everything is downhill, 

so Tony not only fought physical pain, he took all the emotions of every unsiverse and every thought in it into his brilliant, messed up, wounderfull mind he saw everything that ever was and ever would be

and he didnt even flinch

beside everything that was thrown uppon him

he focused on what was important

saving his family

everybody in this thread stop making me cry challenge

can we weaponize comfort already? 

a lot of places have a culture that valorizes never sleeping and not eating right and not taking breaks and stuff like that. 

fuck that. I want like

look at how comfortable and well rested I am. I am well-nourished, I take bubble baths, and I have a good work-life balance. 

self-care has made me strong. has running yourself into the ground made you strong?

I will destroy you. and then I will have a pleasant lunch.

can we weaponize that?

This is the most metal self-care post I’ve seen in a while.

The world told me to hate myself; I realized the greatest act of rebellion was to love myself

Imagine that Jaskier accidentally gains the ability to read Geralt’s mind and he finds out that Geralt has a constant 24/7 internal monologue that is goddamn hilarious. 

Hear me out:

Villager: help Witcher 7 people have been eaten by a mysterious beast in the woods

Geralt (mentally): you’d think they stop going out after the 3rd dead body but NO 

Jaskier has to constantly keep himself together so he doesn’t just collapse with laughter. He is absolutely SHOCKED at the kind of things Geralt is thinking about all the time. And Geralt is also super emotional but does such a good job of hiding it. 

Like Geralt would see a cat and walk by it but mentally he’d be thinking about how soft the cat is and how he wants to pet it and it’s just so cute. Later than night Jaskier brings Geralt the tavern keeper’s cat and he keeps his face neautral but his thoughts are so happy. Jaskier would just keep doing little things that Geralt might not even really know he wants because they were just passing thoughts. 

Bonus Points if Geralt has no idea that Jaskier accidently mind-melded them and just thinks his bard has become super observant or something. 

*bangs fists on table*

WHERE IS THE FIC?!

*remembers I’m a writer*

Oh, shit. No, wait-!

Ohh, scary face!

i wish bards weren’t turned into the jokey silly class of thots, for zero reason other than the fact that i cannot comprehend them being able to cast power word kill

They can cast power word kill???

according to roll20 they can

pompous skinny human man in puffy pants: anyways heres wonderwall [strums lute]

enemy barbarian: [dies instantly]

Obviously Power Word Kill is just Vicious Mockery turned up to 11. You insult them so hard they just die on the spot.

then hecklers at my sold-out fiddle performance of the year better be ready for my dumb face to be the last thing they see before the force of me saying “suck my balls you motherfucker” shatters their skull on impact

SSSSSSSHOT THROUGH THE HEART

AND I’M TO BLAME

When is a bed not a bed? (When you’re not in it)

WinterIron, T, 2.7k, crack, bedsharing, pining | AO3

Dear @hddnone​, I hear you like bed sharing fic. I also like bed sharing fic, and I ADORE your work and also you. So here’s this. I wrote it in a night I never do that who even am i. As always, thanks to Stella for title assistance.

-

“I take it back,” Tony calls out the open doorway, “this safe house is not well stocked, they forgot one very important thing.”

Bucky appears in the doorway a second later, looks around the small bedroom, and then fixes Tony with an unimpressed look.

“There’s only one bed,” Tony says slowly, in case Bucky somehow missed it, but Bucky just shrugs. And of course it’s not a problem for him, he’s not the one uselessly pining away like a character in an old timey romance novel.

“So you take it,” Bucky says, “I hardly sleep anyways.” Then he turns to leave, like that’s just the end of the conversation.

“That is not the end of this conversation!” Tony says, following him back out into the equally tiny living room.

Afficher davantage

THE WINK

Geralt like five minutes after witnessing the devastating consequences denying the law of surprise can have: lmao that was wild anyway I claim the law of surprise-

The Laura Croft game we all deserve

It’s 5am and my eyes were so blurry that I legit thought “wow look at Shia LaBuff”

for a moment i thought it was Tom Hardy gone wild

I know I’ve reblogged this already but god bless I am doing it again.

this bitch empty, TWEET

Have any of you heard of the Harvard MIT Pigeon Prank?

Oh my goodness

new girl au!! not sure how faithful i’ll be to the plot, but we’ll give it our best! 

Tony sighed as he got home. Another long day working, although it was worth it when Ned had finally remembered how the planets song went. Besides, he had worn his moon socks! It’d been awesome! 

And then he comes back and sees another girl in his house. 

He drops his planet model. Pluto goes flying. (Yes, Pluto is a planet.) 

“Babe, it’s definitely not what you think,” Tiberius says. 

“Um, yes it is?” Tony answers, eyes wide. “I can’t believe you!” 

“You’re just gone all the time, and–” 

“Yeah, because I’m the only one who has a job, Ty!” Tony yells. “And I got it so I could pay for your stupidly bad snack foods and bills! Not so you could sleep with another person!” 

He takes his wardrobe, loads it into his car, and drives. He doesn’t even know where he’s going now. Probably a coffee shop. 

Now that he’s calmed down more, Tony has no idea what he’s going to do. He can’t go back to the house, and he really doesn’t want to sleep in the car. 

It’s then that he’s scrolling through a housing website when he sees it. 

“New roommate needed. Contact at this number. Must be chill.” 

The rent’s reasonable. It’s close to his school. 

Tony calls. 

“Hello?” A gruff voice answers. “This is Bucky. If you’re looking for Sam he definitely isn’t here and will not answer.” 

“I’m, um, calling about the roommate ad?” Tony asks. “I was hoping to meet up and see the place?” 

“Oh, yeah, of course. What time you wanna come?” 

“As soon as possible,” Tony says. “I’m Tony. See you in thirty?” 

- 

Bucky turns to Sam and Clint, who are looking at him. 

“Please tell me we’re not meeting another roommate, wasn’t that Reed dude bad enough?” Sam begs. 

“One last one for the day,” Bucky says. “I’m not gonna try and make extra cash in a week, and neither are you.” 

Tony has red-framed glasses. And moon socks. 

“I’m a schoolteacher,” he says firmly. “And I just got broken up with, so–” 

He starts tearing up. 

“Whoa, no crying, no crying!” Bucky says, panicked. “Uh-uh, we’re not doing that here.” 

“Can you pay rent?” Clint asks from the kitchen. “And more importantly, can you cook? And I mean actually cook, not microwave meals.” 

Bucky shoots him a glare. 

“It’s a valid question!” Sam asks. 

“How much do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” Tony asks, voice small. “And I can pay rent.” 

- 

After much deliberation (two minutes), Tony is welcomed into the apartment. 

They learn that his ex-boyfriend is super-shitty, they steal the TV back, and learn that Tony has a questionable fashion sense and a very, very cute friend. 

Clint and Sam are kind of in love. Clint more than Sam. 

“Natasha, would you please have my kids?” he asks. 

“I’m going to shove a spatula up your ass,” Natasha says blandly. “Tony come on, one night out with me and the girls.” 

“Sharon’s gonna make me do shots,” Tony says with a frown. “And I wanna finish my sunflower crochet blanket! I have seven more petals to do!” 

“Your stupid sunflower blanket can wait,” Natasha says, dragging him to his closet. “I know I left a cute top for you somewhere…” 

- 

There are a lot of weird situations. Their repair guy wants a threesome. Clint is somehow a good businessman. Tony ropes Bucky into helping him a lot. 

And somewhere along the way, Bucky kind of falls for Tony. 

He’s not sure why. He’s not really the kind of person to fall for someone, just ask his whole family. He was the one who kept track of the kids, called his Ma, and fixed the dishwasher. 

Tony’s not even his type, not really. He’s loud and expressive and cries when he sees a kitten. 

He cooks and does funny voices when Bucky is sad and looks nice next to the fairy lights. 

And then they kiss. 

Bucky didn’t want it to happen the way it did, but it did. 

“Oh god,” he groans as Tony goes back into his room. “I’m so stupid. So, so stupid.” 

- 

As it turns out, Bucky still is incredibly stupid, but not as stupid as he thought he was. Tony shyly admits that he “like likes” Bucky back. 

“Please tell me you did not pick that up from your third graders,” Bucky groans. 

“I can’t help it! Riri is in a crisis right now!” Tony states theatrically. “Now come here, you big lug. Kiss me.” 

“You’re so cheesy,” Bucky says with a laugh, leaning over anyway. 

Some people become best friends with their roommates. Some people hate their roommates and have the craziest stories. 

But not many fall in love and stay in love. 

At least, that’s what Sam puts in his wedding toast. 

Bucky finds the whole thing sappy and ridiculous. But Tony smiles at it, so that’s really all that matters. 

Wanda is dreaming.

She knows this, because she’s only ever seen a Stark bomb once in her life, and there it is, right in front of her.

She hates this dream, hates huddling together with Pietro, waiting, waiting. If they move, the bomb will go off. If they blink, the bomb will go off. If they breathe, the bomb will go off. But the bomb never goes off. They’re in limbo. Waiting. Waiting.

That’s how these nightmares go. Endless waiting. Staring. The bomb is seared into their brains; there’s no way to forget even the smallest screw.

Pietro suddenly disappears from her arms, and Wanda stumbles, staring at the bomb, terrified. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. Stark Industries is written white and sharp against the charcoal metal but it’s suddenly not the bomb she knows at all. The letters are the same but nothing else is. This isn’t right.

“No,” her mouth whispers, but it’s not her voice.

The bomb explodes, and the force hits her directly in the chest. She slams back into the ground, breath knocked out of her, and she stares up at the sky, stunned. The blood comes a moment later, soaking her white shirt, and she stares at it in confusion. This isn’t right. This isn’t right. The bomb never went off. The bomb never exploded. This isn’t right.

The pain comes next, and she convulses, scream trapped in her throat. It hurts. This isn’t right. The bomb never went off. This isn’t right. This isn’t right.

“Wanda,” a voice says, and she stares up at the sky, uncomprehending. It hurts. The bomb went off. But it’s not supposed to. It never does. Except for this time? It hurts. This isn’t right.

“Wanda,” a voice says again, loud, angry? Concerned. She’s also concerned. She’s bleeding a lot. It hurts. A voice says she’ll die if nothing’s done. It hurts. This isn’t right.

“What I did is to save your life,” another voice says, unfamiliar and the closest friend she’s had all at once. “In my villages we call those casualties ‘the walking dead,’ because they take about a week to reach your heart.” The walking dead? She’s dying? It’ll take a week to die like this? This isn’t right. The bomb never goes off. But it did. She’s bleeding. She doesn’t want to suffer like this for one more minute, never mind one week. It hurts. She wants to die. This isn’t right.

“Wanda,” that first voice says again, louder, shouting. It mixes in with all the other shouting. She can’t comprehend. It hurts. She’s bleeding. This isn’t right.

A hand grabs her face, grips her cheeks tight, and shakes her. This isn’t right. This isn’t… this isn’t right.

“Don’t waste your life,” that strange voice says, and she chokes, bleeding, hurting. This isn’t right.

“BREATHE,” Tony barks, and Wanda obediently sucks in a shaky breath, eyes focused on the ceiling above her.

Cement. No clear sky. No dark cave. No smoke. She sucks in another breath. It smells like popcorn, and pizza, and soda. There is no scent of heat, of sulfur, of hot metal that could have been the twisted remains of a bomb or could have been blood. There’s no copper in the back of her throat.

She reaches up for her chest, just to make sure, feels nothing but cotton. It’s damp with sweat, not drenched with blood.

Tony draws his hand away, frowning at her. “You okay?”

Wanda stares up at him, not knowing how to answer. She doesn’t want to be weak in front of him, but she also has no idea if she’s actually okay. Her eyes dart down to the light glowing in Tony’s chest, then back up to his face.

Tony lifts his hand to cover the reactor immediately, looking stricken, and backs off.

“Everything alright?” Clint asks, appearing above her as well, looking back and forth between them in concern.

Wanda still can’t answer. It felt so real. It felt so real. The bomb went off even though it’s not supposed to go off and she was dying, dying, dying.

But it wasn’t her, she realizes with another shaky gasp. Her bomb never went off. She and Pietro lived through that terrifying moment.

Tony’s bomb went off though, and he was dying. Dying. He should have, and someone didn’t allow him to, made him suffer the agony of living. Does it still hurt? What happened to his week? What happened to those seven long, painful days? He’s alive. Is he still in pain? They should have let him die.

Wanda grits her teeth. ‘Don’t waste your life.’ Garbage. Trash. ‘Continue to live because I said so’ and ‘Suffer to make up for your sins.’ Awful. Disgusting. This isn’t right.

“Wanda?” Clint asks again, brow furrowing.

“I’ll make it right,” Wanda says.

“…Make what right?” Natasha asks in confusion.

Tony’s leaving. Tony’s leaving. Wanda heaves herself up off the couch, staggers. She stumbles after him. “Stark.”

Tony doesn’t turn. Doesn’t look. His back is straight and his head is held high but his hand still covers the arc reactor. “Sorry,” he says. “That you had to see that.”

“My bomb never went off,” Wanda says helplessly.

“More’s the pity,” Tony replies.

“It shouldn’t have gone off,” she insists, uncomprehending. “I can keep yours from going off too.”

Tony is quiet, head tipping to the side. Wanda waits. She’s learned her lesson. She will wait for permission. For consent.

Tony finally turns, and he looks at her and says, “I’m sorry that your bomb never went off.”

Wanda feels as if he doused her in ice water, and she’s angry for a moment, but she swallows it down. “Why?”

“It wasn’t the explosion that was the worst part,” Tony says slowly. “Bombs explode. It’s kind of their job. The concussive force and the shrapnel and the pain they caused were expected. It was the seconds before the explosion that were the worst. The waiting. How much time did I have? Was it enough? What can I do? The second the explosion came, I felt relief. There was nothing in that moment that I could do to stop it. It was happening. I no longer had to wonder. I was either going to live or die and it was out of my hands. The waiting… the waiting for it to happen was worse than that bomb going off ever was.” He looks her in the eye. “I’m sorry that your bomb never went off. It seems like you’re still waiting for it to explode even today.”

Wanda swallows. This doesn’t… this doesn’t feel right. But his words make sense and she reluctantly has to agree they have merit. The bomb never goes off. And she’s been waiting for it even in her dreams. Part of her, the more stubborn part, insists This isn’t right again.

“It’s alright,” Tony says, voice gentle but firm. “It’s alright, Wanda. I don’t want to forget the explosion. It’s alright.”

Wanda swallows again. She doesn’t understand. It doesn’t feel alright.

Tony reaches out and takes her hand. “It’s alright, Wanda. Let the dust settle.”

Wanda holds his hand back tightly and nods, throat too tight to speak. Her bomb never exploded. But maybe she can let the dust of Tony’s settle as if it were hers.

I’m losing it over this cosplay

i’m IN LOVE

So I’ve been doing a lot of observerships at this children’s hospital in my city. And on one of the days I was at the hospital, I noticed quite a fair number of Iron Man art on the doors & walls of one of the specialist clinics. And it reminded me of Invincible Iron Man #4 so that’s why I drew this! :) Seems like something Tony Stark would do haha.