Dear everyone who’s extremely stressed with whatever work you may have right now,
I love you and I feel you. You are strong and you can do this and when you do it will feel so amazing. You have a beautiful brain and the things you can do are absolutely astonishing. I know you can do this, keep going and you’ll get there. I love you so much
Can we talk about Tony feeling really unwanted? With the "rebuilt" Avengers after CW? They show him he's not wanted and disliked. They throw in mean quips all the time. And they have to act like a team again, so they are sitting at the dinner table and they are all talking and laughing and Tony wants to cry with how unwanted and hated he feels. His stomach turning, he has a lump in his throat, his eyes keep watering. He doesn't remember a time when he felt this unwanted and out of place.
Thank you for breaking my heart and stomping on the shards, anon. (And I’m not saying that sarcastically because I really love this headcanon but also ouch! My poor, poor baby!!)
Because it’s just so easy to imagine, you know? To think that Tony–who’s known from the beginning that he wasn’t wanted, that he’s been on the outside of a group he desperately wanted to belong to, that he’s been the add-on everyone tolerates because there’s just no better alternative–struggles with the reunion of the old team.
What the media called ‘Civil War’ was in mostly an argument between a small, super-powered group of people–but it was a vicious one. It was personal, right from the start, always more about them and their own issues than the fate of the world. And maybe that’s why they can’t just- go back from that. They’ve crossed lines with each other–against each other–that can’t be taken back, no matter how much they like to pretend otherwise.
And some of them don’t even bother pretending all that hard.
There are Clint’s consistent jokes, no longer designed to be anything but cutting and tearing as deep as possible. There are Steve’s constant critiques and questions that wear on Tony in a way they didn’t used to. There are Wanda’s hateful glares that–have not changed much at all. There are Sam’s dark expressions whenever Rhodey’s name is mentioned. The list goes on.
To be fair, it’s not just them who’ve changed. It’s Tony too. Tony who can’t hear anything but insults in every word Clint says. Tony who can barely stand being in the same room with Steve, never mind looking at him. Tony doesn’t dare turning his back on any of them, jumps when someone enters without him noticing, then pretends to brush off the mocking his reaction ears him. It’s not as easy as it used to be though (and it was never easy to begin with).
He can’t sleep, jerks awake from nightmares with a painfully racing heart whenever he manages to get a few hours of sleep. Pretends he doesn’t notice the mocking his make-up gathers. Stays out of the compound whenever possible, takes long business trips and attends every meeting possible. Doesn’t join team dinners unless Steve bullies him into it–and yes, it’s bullying, there’s nothing nice about it, he thinks in one of his rare, spiteful moments. Spite costs energy though, and that’s something Tony finds himself increasingly lacking.
Out in the field they’re a disaster. Well, not all of them. Steve and Barnes are an amazing team, and Clint and Natasha know each other to well not to be. Sam does a good job and Wanda is getting better and better at working in a team. Tony on the other hand… Well. He still can’t seem to bring himself to turn his back on any of them. Has a panic attack more than once and would’ve undoubtedly died or worse, gotten someone else killed, if FRIDAY didn’t have basic emergency access to the suit. Ducks away from Steve’s shield instead of catching it like he’s supposed to. Knocks away Barnes’ gun once. Pulverises a couple of Clint’s arrows that fly into his direction (he doesn’t check whether they would’ve hit him. He doesn’t want to know).
The team–if you can still call it that with Rhodey, Bruce and Vision all no longer a part of it–is slowly beginning to pick up the pieces and learn how to become the new Avengers they’ve been pretending to be for a while now. Except–Tony can’t. He can’t do that. He can’t get back into what he (never really) had, can’t build something new with the too familiar pieces. Can only watch the team, his team, become stronger, better, without him.
The Avengers don’t need him anymore. They show it, prove it, say it everyday, if not always in quite these words. Maybe they never did, Tony thinks, and refuses to cry for an end he’s always known would come eventually.
Warnings: time-travel. Don’t try to make sense of it, it’s just fluff.
Sometimes, your soulmate came back in time to give you a pep-talk. Not that you remembered who they were and what they said, but the feelings remained.
This story is set during Bitty’s first year.
Eric was about to quit hockey. He would quit hockey, then quit Samwell altogether, and go back to Georgia his tail between his legs and prove right every single person that said he wasn’t strong enough for such a manly sport.
Jack had chewed him out again- in front of everyone.
Robert Sugden thinks so little of himself. He thinks he deserves to be hit by his husband, kicked out by his mother-in-law, told he is horrible and disturbed, told he can never change, and the only thing that matters to him right now is helping his husband, not helping himself. Someone give him a hug and tell him he is worth everything, and let this man sort himself out.