avengers ending

Peggy: You’re late.

Steve: I couldn’t call my ride.

Bucky *internally*: They look like they’re going to kiss. Are they going to kiss? Oh my God. They’re going to kiss.

Bucky: HEY!

Bucky *internally*: Wait, did I say that out loud? Oh no. I said it out loud. Everyone’s staring.

Bucky: Let’s hear it for Captain America! 

Bucky *internally*: Phew. That was close. Nice save Barnes. Nailed it. No one suspects a thing. Conceal don’t feel.

when ur bf is bigger than u and knows u dont mind surprise smooches rb if u agree

Captain America: A Tragedy
  • The First Avenger: Steve loses his best friend and his best girl.
  • The Winter Soldier: Steve gets his best friend and his best girl back but they can't remember him.
  • Civil War: Steve loses his best friend and his best girl all over again.

Insert coin (or vibranium shield) and lots of love to save your beloved one from another dimension :D

The request from @sailorbettery regarding the final episode of AA S3! And since I am a believer of true love always saves the day so I can’t help but draw my version of the story :D So let me introduce to you the Capsule Toy Machine version of Dimension (Yeah sorry I know it looks like a Crystal Ball and please don’t ask me how Steve’s shield was inserted and then come back let’s say it is the power of love (what)) and the happy ending they deserve :D

I have only slept for a few hours and after drawing this for more than four hours I don’t really know what I am drawing/saying, all things seem to make sense when I was half falling asleep at that time so sorry please forgive me for the bugs QwQ

Hope you like it!

Bucky: [during the final battle] Will you marry me?

Tony: I don’t think now’s the best time!

Bucky: Now may be the only time! I love you. I’ve made my choice. What’s yours?

Tony: Coulson! Marry us!

Coulson: [fighting] I’m a little busy at the moment!

Them: Tony Stark killed innocent people he’s a disgusting murderer and I hate him i hope he dies.

Me, pulling out receipts with a weary sigh: Literally five minutes ago you posted a gif of a certain Mr Barnes as he hurled a cinderblock at an innocent man’s face and captioned it “this is my kink” so,,, What Is The Truth Here.

Spiderpool! Grief.

Originally posted by nessiesmiths

After Gwen’s death, New York City suddenly found itself without one red and black latex suit. Peter simply couldn’t function. His grief, his pain, wrapped him up in a tight grip that he couldn’t fight. He couldn’t fight crime when he was laying in his bed, wishing he could have saved her. In the day’s passing her death, he came up with hundreds of different ways to save her life as nightmares began to become a nightly event. Several times a night.

Two weeks came and went. Peter forced himself to go to school then, but his suit remained in his closet. He wasn’t sure he was going back. How could he save other people when he had failed to save her? How could he save other people and their loved ones, when the ones he held closest to his heart were killed. Uncle Ben. Gwen. Who else would fall from his grasp?

One night, as he studied and forced himself to do his chemistry homework, came a double tap on his window. Looking up, he found Deadpool hanging upside down there, mask showing the hints of a smile beneath. Peter sighed very, very heavily, but did get up to open the window.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Tony is filled with dread at the thought of the team returning because he knows that they'll blame him for the exile. He can see it; Steve for him losing his temper in Siberia even though he had reason; Clint will throw another jab about breaking a back; Wanda blames him for anything. But he's done with them. As he sits at the compound waiting for there return he goes over every interaction and wondered why he ever considered these people his friends his only real friends were Rhodey and Bruce

Yes, he is. He really is done with them. It’s actually a surprisingly…freeing conclusion, once Tony allows himself to believe that. Because you see, Tony never does anything half-way. When he realised his weapons were hurting the wrong people, he didn’t put the deliveries on stricter security, he shut the entire production down. We can stand all day here, arguing about whether or not that’s a good thing, but the point is when Tony does something, he does it 100%, no take backs, right from the start.

And when he comes to the internal decision that Steve, Clint and Wanda aren’t his friends, aren’t his team mates, that changes things. Maybe not as much as it should have, because he’s still far too generous as far as Rhodey is concerned, but still.

No, Tony isn’t going to stop his work to get the ex-team back on US ground, but his motivation changes. It’s not…personal as much anymore. It’s because it will be an advantage once the fight–the one Tony’s been warning them of from the start, and no, he isn’t bitter about that at all

But it’s easier now, to face them again when they inevitably return. It’s easier to brush off the sharp comments and thinly veiled insults, to put on a smile for the cameras and disappear into the crowd as soon as the pictures have been taken.

On the surface nothing has changed. But mentally, accepting that his former team mates aren’t his friends, that maybe they never were, helps Tony in ways even he doesn’t fully understand.

It puts a distance between them and him, emotionally. And until it’s there Tony never even realised how much he needs that.

Weeks later, when Steve tries to extend a hand, genuinely contrite, tries to fix things between them, Tony lets the call go to voicemail and never listens to the message–not even on purpose, simply because he’s busy and FRIDAY is no longer required to remind him of those things, because Steve has lost that status a long time ago.

It takes even longer for Steve (and far longer for Clint) to realise that though. Realise that, at some point, Tony has stopped waiting for them. And if that bothers them more than either of them would like to admit, well. That’s hardly Tony’s problem anymore, is it?

Alone- Tony Stark

First post in a while, but I wasn’t in a great mental state since September. But I’m back and have 3 imagines queued up and I’m working on a series. Steve Rogers fluff imagine up on Sunday! Requests are open!

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Requests: Open

*’s are time jumps

Italics are dreams

Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock

Tony thought Steve was joking. That when he called while on the mission that it was some sick joke you were playing on him. He didn’t believe Steve when he said you were dead. Mission gone wrong.

He didn’t believe it until he saw you laying on the table. He didn’t see the bright (Y/E/C) eyes he had come to love, or your delicate, warm hands. He only saw a white sheet over your pale, bruised body, your clouded eyes looking straight up at the ceiling, all the life drained from the figure in front of him. The last bits of hope left his soul when he reached for your hand, only to find a cold, rigid limb.

He broke down then, collapsing in on himself as he realized you were gone. There was no bringing you back no matter what he would try. It was a horrible scene for everybody to watch. Tony sank to his knees, shaking and trying to move, only to coil into himself as he struggled to stop the tears from running down his face and breath steadily like you used to help him with. He could only focus on your hands, your cold, lifeless hands. Every fibre in his body hurt, and he knew there was nothing anyone could do to make it go away.

Bruce and Steve were the ones who went to help him. They lifted him off the floor, and as he tried reaching for you again, held him back, as he ran off, stopping halfway to the lab, trying to catch his breath and sinking to the floor again.

Everyone knew this was Tony’s undoing, they knew this wasn’t going to get better. He was broken without you, a man without purpose, and it was with a heavy heart that they knew as they watched him struggle to the bedroom you used to share, that they had lost their friend.


Tony really did try in the beginning. He would try to eat regularly, sleep the best he could, and wouldn’t even look at the large wall of liquors in front of him. He wanted to do better in your memory, he wanted to make you proud, wanted to be the man you made him. But he couldn’t. Not when he would accidentally make two cups of coffee in the morning, putting cream in he one next to his before realizing no one was there to drink it. Not when he would reach for a hand in the middle of the bed, only to find a cold, empty space where you used to lay. Not when the only thing that kept you out of his mind was bourbon and whiskey.

He never left the bedroom. Never went to the lab. Only left to do 2 missions, both of which he spent mindlessly shooting HYDRA agents in a rage, realizing they were the ones who killed you. Then returning to his isolated spot in the quinjet before returning to the bedroom when it landed. They had all tried to reason with him-  not even Rhodey or Bruce could get him out- the only company he had was alcohol, FRIDAY, and his own.

It had been three months since he saw you on that table, and it went on with no interruptions to his new schedule. He woke up unsure of where he was after a short hour and a half of sleep, ate a few pieces of bread that Wanda had dropped off every morning, downed a bottle of water, and started drinking again. Everything between 9 am that morning and his present time, was a blur. He only knew that it was now 2 am, and that your side of the bed was still- as it had been for the past three months- too cold.

He knew he would be riddled with nightmares, happy memories of you the two of you before you ended up dead again, and he would wake up, in the midst of a panic attack, unable to breath until he almost passed out and to repeat the process until he was physically too exhausted to even move. But he fell asleep anyway, almost begging for the numb pain in his chest to stop.

You stood in front of Tony in a pair of black sweatpants and an extremely large Black Sabbath shirt he knew you had stolen from him. He didn’t mind it though. You were smiling, your white teeth shining as you laughed, your eyes crinkling at the sides as you bent your head down to look at the floor, something you always did when you laughed too hard.

The words left your mouth in a euphonic voice as Tony stared.

“I love you, Tony.”

Tony reached out to you, cupping your soft cheek in his hand as he watched you raise your head again, your eyes bright with happiness and content. He felt the same feeling fill the emptiness in his chest, and mirrored your smile as he watched you reach your hand out to hold his free one. Everything was right, nothing was out of place. There were no bad guys destroying the world, no fights between the two of you, no one to disrupt the perfect moment. It was only you and Tony, enjoying each others presence.

Your smile faltered only slightly as he cupped your cheek, as you shivered gently and looked up at him. The words that left your mouth next were the ones he had dreaded in the past few months, the ones that always pulled him out of his perfect fantasy.

“I’m cold, Tony.”

It was when you looked up further, staring him directly in the eye when everything started falling apart.

Your eyes clouded over ever so slightly, the happiness being replaced by worry and fear as Tony stared at you falling apart in his arms. Your skin started to flush, leaving you with a blue and grey tone that made Tony uneasy, he knew what was happening, and he knew there was nothing he could do to save you.

“Tony, I’m so cold.”

Your temperature dropped suddenly, and that’s when the tears started spilling from your eyes, making Tony try and push you away, not wanting to see the hurt and pain that you were experiencing, feeling his own eyes water.

“Stop.” He said simply.

“Tony, it hurts! I’m so cold!” You yelled, dropping the floor in a heap, screaming out his name, complaining about the cold, yelling for him to come back.

He woke up screaming, with tears rolling down his face and his breathing erratic. He couldn’t see properly, the tears obstructing his vision making the blurriness that always accompanied his panic attacks even worse. He was used to it by now, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

As he cried and screamed, he thought he was falling back to sleep when he heard the voice.


Your voice. The voice he loved so much, it hurt. He wrapped his fingers through his hair as he rocked himself back and forth on the bed, crying and trying to control his breathing.

“It’s not real…” He got out, knowing that you were gone there was no way he was hearing your voice. You weren’t real.

But you were. Standing by the door of his room, you were watching as the man you loved was being torn apart by the memory of you.

Not being able to stand it any longer, you walked forward, finding your way in front of him, so that you were next to his side of the bed, about to touch his shoulder when you pulled your hand back and decided you needed more time to get to him before you scared and hurt him even more. Fighting back tears that you didn’t even think you had left in you, you opened your mouth and spoke again.

“Tony… Tony calm down, you’re okay. You’re safe.” You said, slowly sinking down to the carpet, watching as it only got worse.

It was killing him. He really thought you were dead. It was killing you too. Taking a step back, you went to your side of the bed, and gently placed your right hand on his left one, which was shaking uncontrollably as he tried to take in enough oxygen to calm himself down again.

“You’re okay… You’re safe.” You said, gently stroking the top of his hand with your thumb, feeling him calm down slightly.

“Tony, I need you to look at me.” He wouldn’t. Probably couldn’t, but you weren’t giving up.

You moved closer to him, until you were sitting right beside him as he looked up, vision clearing slightly, as he comprehended what was going on at that moment.

You were beside him. The warmth of your hand on his, and the sound of your voice was real.

He turned to look at you and took in your state. You weren’t deadly pale, you looked slightly sick, with red eyes and cheeks, eyes puffy as if you had been crying. You weren’t looking as lively as you used to, your shoulders slumped slightly, and your hair a bit of a mess. But you were there. Your eyes were still open, and your hand was on his.

You were warm.

“How- what,” he tried to speak, but having still not fully recovered from his last attack, you shushed him and moved forward so you were embracing each other, arm tightly wrapped around his shoulders.

“I promise, I’ll explain later. But right now, I just want to be with you.” You said, and he nodded into your shoulder, burying his face into the crook of your shoulder as you sat there.

And that’s what you did, you lay there not saying a word as you held each other. By the time either of you were ready to speak, the sun was starting to rise, and Tony had his head on your chest as you ran your fingers through his hair with one hand, and held onto his hand with your own.

You took a breath before speaking, knowing you owed him an explanation.

“During the Reshkov mission, Nat and I found some files that detailed a capture and torture mission that would end with me being killed. I brought them to Fury right after the mission and he started working a plan that would make it seem like I was killed on a mission so that I wasn’t a target or worry anymore, and it would give me time to shut the entire operation down on my own.” You started.

“I was only told the details the day we were going to fake it. Fury told me that I couldn’t tell anyone, not even you what was about to happen. He told me that there was an undercover in there that would inject me and make it look like I died, but I couldn’t tell you, because there was surveillance everywhere, and they had eyes in the tower as well.”

“You still couldn’t tell me somewhere else?” He said, voice breaking in slight anger and severe hurt.

“I tried to, I wanted to tell you what was going on, but they did it before I could.” You started to choke up, remembering all the video footage you had seen of Tony since the incident.

“I didn’t see any of the footage until 2 days after, when I woke up. They showed me everything. Tony, I wanted to come home so bad, I saw how it was killing you and it killed me. Fury had a hard time keeping me in containment. They said as soon as I wiped out all of Reshkov, I could come home. So, I did, and the minute I was done, I told Fury to send me home. I’m so sorry. I never want to be the cause of your pain Tony.”

You didn’t care that you were crying at that point. You didn’t care that as he pulled you down to eye level, he could see how much of a mess you were.

He slowly leaned in and kissed you gently, which you returned happily as you took the moment to relish in the time you were back together. Every emotion you had felt was poured into that kiss, until he pulled away and held you close to him, both of you slowly drifting off as you both realized that everything was going to be okay now.

You were half asleep when Tony spoke up again, quietly as he didn’t want to startle you.

“(Y/N)?” He asked. You made a sound of acknowledgement, and he held in a breath as he asked the question.

“Are you cold?”

You took a moment to respond, shaking your head against his chest as you started drifting off.

“No. I love you, Tony.”