A Team Not a Timebomb

hey party people, I dropped this url from my main blog a while ago but have decided to start up this sideblog for any lingering m*rvel hyperfixating

The absolute fucking absurdity of the forced BruceNat romance taking up half of AOU’s runtime. It kills me. The worst fanfic in the world has NOTHING on Whedon’s characterization of Natasha Romanoff. It’s unbelievable.

Will there ever be a marvel opening as good at TWS again?

none of y’all told me endgame was just a ripoff of the leftovers

“It’s not so bad,” Tony said. “Until everyone leaves. I mean, you remember how it was. Before.”  

The floorboards creaked beneath his bare feet as he stepped into the bathroom, body bruised and aching for a shower. It had been a rough day—the first in a long time—and he just wanted to stand beneath the spray of hot water and forget that the only two people in the tower these days were he and Steve.

Steve came in from across the hall as Tony turned the faucet on and gripped his shoulder companionably. “Well that’s why I’m here now. For company,” he said. 

Tony turned to him, felt the warmth of the gesture in the hand on his shoulder and softened. Steve was good company, really good company, to have around. He filled the spaces their disbanded team had left, made all the painful years between them worth what they had now; a groove. A way to live during a time that felt unlivable.

Quiet stretched between them, and Steve frowned. “Company,” he repeated thoughtfully, and his fingers slipped down the front of Tony's shirt, fiddling lightly with a button, “in any form that may take.”  

The words settled low in Tony's gut and he tore his gaze away from the shower to catch his expression.  

“Steve, are you…” He raised an eyebrow, the ends of his mouth turning up curiously. “Are you hitting on me?”

Steve wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I had planned to—back then,” he said quietly. “I had always meant to… well, it doesn’t matter anymore. We won’t go back.” He swallowed. “Anyways. Whatever you need, Tony.”

Tony's smile faltered as he watched Steve, whose hands shook as they moved around the lines of his body, every touch a ghost; there, but not so much. Desperate for solidity. 

“Steve, I—”I always. “—I think I really need a friend right now.” He swallowed, closed his eyes. “Not a teammate, and not…not…just a friend.” 

Steve froze. “Of course,” he said. He stepped back–unintrusive, not angry, just Steve.  

Tony knew he was right to say no. When he was still waking up most mornings unsure of where he was. But he wondered, as Steve's eyes lingered on his broken frame—if he were to undress a certain way, if he were to brush past him just so, if Steve would join him underneath the water anyway and they wouldn’t have to talk about it.  

Then could he discover that part of Steve he’d never known? The part of Steve that, if he was lucky, no one else knew either? The way he wanted, the way he touched, the way he said a name on the edge, between heavy breaths? Could he learn all that under these conditions and still heal?  

Could he love like a friend and still have this?  

Steve clicked the door shut as he left. Tony's shoulders sagged.

It was better not to ask.

god I miss stevetony

Watching Captain America: The First Avenger and remain so so charmed. Steve Rogers: The First Love of My Life

but personally I would like to go back to before I knew what “no way home” actually meant

I don’t think liking peter parker counts as liking marvel, because there’s kind of no other way to live. and I think it’s okay to like any version of peter parker, and in fact it’s encouraged to like all versions of peter parker, because they’re allowed to live simultaneously and harmoniously, and that’s exactly what they deserve

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