When You Browse The Wrong Tag And See People Throwing Toxic Accusations Around. If You Keep Pretending

I’m Bad At Love (But You Can’t Blame Me For Trying)

A WinterIron plot bunny idea I had and wanted to get out because I’ve seen Hanahaki Disease floating around my dash for a bit, and I couldn’t give up a good idea what I had it. I don’t feel like it’s a fully fleshed out enough fic to post on AO3, but I just like the concept. Bad At Love by Halsey inspired the title because fuck Halsey and her feels. (the aesthetic is mine)

Tony was four, the first time he caught Hanahaki. Four. And if that weren’t sad enough in concept, it was even worse knowing it was from his father.

Tony had just built his first circuit board. Worked on it for weeks, which to a four-year-old felt like a world of time and energy. But he’d finished it. And it worked. He’d shown Jarvis first, and the reaction from his caretaker had been one that lit up Tony’s world. Tony was sure, oh he was so sure, if Jarvis had loved it so much, his father would have at least liked it a little bit. Sure, he’d always been a bit distant with Tony, but Tony had worked so hard. He’d worked so hard.

But when his little hands thrust the circuit board toward his father, almost as if it were an offering, big brown eyes wide with hope, the only response he got was his father raising a hand to him, sending Tony and the circuit board down tumbling to the ground with one strike. It was then, lying on the ground at his father’s feet, Tony coughed up his first flower. He was too young to even understand what it was supposed to mean, he only knew that when his father crushed the flower with his foot as he walked away from Tony, Tony’s chest ached.

After that, Tony was conservative with his love. It took him even weeks to accept love from Jarvis, too afraid of being pushed away again. He eventually got over it, but he was still too skittish to love someone new, for the time being.

The first time it was a romantic love, was with Rhodey. Rhodey was amazing in every way, and Tony couldn’t help fall for him. And sure, Rhodey loved him back, he’d made that very clear, but the pinched look on his face the first time Tony coughed up flowers when Rhodey mentioned he was straight said it all. Platonic love wasn’t enough. At least, for Tony.

But Tony convinced Rhodey he’d be able to get over it, and he was, eventually. It took months, Tony even considered surgery, but eventually, he did really feel happy for Rhodey when he saw him with some girl and stopped coughing up those damned flowers.

At his parent’s funeral, someone had once asked Tony how he felt. His only response had been to stare at his mother’s gravestone with a heavy heart, then choke up a mouthful of flowers. It made sense, he guessed. She couldn’t love him if she was dead. There were good reasons Tony was an atheist. No one, not even his mother, could love him beyond the grave.

Tony wasn’t even surprised when it happened with Pepper. After Rhodey, Tony had given up on trying not to fall in love. Most of his crushes went as quick as they came, one of the main reasons they were never requited, Tony supposed. He was just bad at love. He couldn’t seem to make it last. Going back and forth between coughing up flowers and not; until Tony didn’t even bother paying attention to who was the cause. They wouldn’t matter in a few weeks.

But Pepper’s had lasted so achingly long. So long that Tony actually forced himself to go through with the surgery, only because he couldn’t handle the disapproving looks from Pepper every time he coughed up petals around her. It hurt, not only physically to have the flowers removed, but also emotionally. To have one of his most lasting loves ripped from his heart, just because he couldn’t contain himself.

He was just bad at love.

With Steve, it had been surprising. At least to Tony, anyway. Tony thought he hated Steve, detested every inch of his being. And Tony supposed he did, in some ways. But for reasons that couldn’t seem to stick. At least not the way his love did.

It had startled both of them when Tony started coughing up flowers when Steve had snapped out some insult at him. The look of disgust on Steve’s face somewhat reminded Tony of Howard’s reaction. It did, even more, when Steve stormed out of the room, crushing petals that had fallen to the ground with his step.

After Steve, Tony decided he would never fall in love again. It was a vain promise, sure, but Tony vowed to follow it, even if it led him to the grave. He didn’t want to ever have to deal with a mouthful of flowers again. To him, that’s all that love was.

Maybe that was the real reason it took him so long to realize he was in love with Bucky.

Sure, Tony hit it off with Bucky. More so than anyone had predicted they would, all things considered. The lingering touches, the flirtings, the inside jokes, the sweet laughter at two am.

Natasha was the person to bring it up to Tony.

“You’re in love with him, aren’t you?” She asked one night over coffee when it was much too late for either of them to be drinking coffee.

Tony glanced up. “Nat, I’ve been over Steve for almost a year now.”

She rolled her eyes. “Not Steve. Bucky.”

Tony frowned. “Haven’t been puking up any petunias lately, so nope, don’t think so.”

“You’d only have Hanahaki if it was unrequited, Tony.” She sipped her coffee.

“I-what?” Tony paused, staring at her. “I don’t-James doesn’t-”

“Tony.” Natasha cut him off. “You’re the only person in this Tower who calls him by his first name, and I’m positive he’d punch anyone else who tried. And same goes for him calling you Anthony. You look at him like he’s your moon, he looks at you like your his sun. It’s ridiculous how sappy you both are.”

Tony stared at her. “I don’t…”

“Hush.” Natasha flicked his head. “Ask him out for coffee sometime.”

“I can’t do that.” Tony stared at her with impossibly wide eyes.

“Why not?”

Tony blinked. He supposed she had a point. But grasping the idea that he had a crush on Bucky was… it felt impossible. Tony was so used to love and Hanahaki being bound together for him, one couldn’t exist without the other. The idea that he loved Bucky was barely overshadowed by the realization that Bucky loved him back.

Bucky loved him. Someone loved Tony. For once in Tony’s life, someone returned the affection he was so used to burning and withering away inside of him.

For that reason, Tony was terrified. Terrified he might get over this crush on Bucky as quickly as he had his previous crushes, and he’d leave Bucky just as hurt as others had left him. Tony couldn’t do that to someone else. He just couldn’t. Maybe Tony was bad at love, but he had to try.

“Okay. I’ll ask him out for coffee sometime.”

Cozy Preview

I did it guys…. I am working on the most tropey one-shot ever!

“What trope is that lovelynemesis?” You may ask…

*Heavy sigh* 

Reader and Bucky are camping in a tent on a chilly, winter night… despite a mission gone wrong and Bucky giving reader the cold shoulder, can they come together and find the warmth they both so desperately seek?

Rating: Explicit

Yup….

Opening a tag list… let me know if you want to be on it! (If you are on my permanent tags, I got you babe!)

If you heard Bucky snore one more time, you were going to smother him with your pillow.

How can the man be asleep in this bitter cold?

You were frozen.

Frost bite was creeping into places it shouldn’t be in.

You couldn’t feel any of your limbs and you were pretty sure that your heart rate was slowing.

A rock was poking into your backside through the padding of the sleeping bag and your pillow was lumpy. You also thought that a spider had taken up residence in your little cocoon of warmth. But you couldn’t be mad at it, it was fucking cold.

Hunkering deeper into your sleeping bag, you gritted your teeth as another rumble from Bucky echoed in the small space.

You watched the canvas of the tent shake with the force of the wind outside. The bright moon offering the only light.

This mission had gone bad from the start and even gotten worse as the days went on.

This was the rock bottom.

what if...

the winter soldier gets triggered but instead of hurting or killing people, he just becomes really passive aggressive and generally dickish to everyone.

he refills the salt shaker with sugar

“i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to spill my drink all over your lap”

stealths through the living room and unplugs the tv 5 minutes before your favorite show is about to start

you think it’s just the tv remote and go to get new batteries only to find bucky’s replaced all the new batteries with dead ones

he deletes all your shows and timers on the dvr

but does it slowly, 1 or 2 at a time, so you just think something’s wrong with the dvr

can’t find your toothbrush. bucky took it to clean his guns

waits until you get in the shower to start the dishwasher

double dips in the fondue

writes his name on every food item in the house, even the stuff he didn’t buy

“this is my fruit bowl. no one is allowed to eat from it but me”

sees you washing a load of white clothes. throws his red shirt in

takes up playing the kazoo

best time to practice it is at 3 am. says it helps with his insomnia

all toilet paper in the house has disappeared

fills the candy dish in the kitchen with sugar free gummy bears

“i don’t :) know why :) you’re so :) upset :)”

Beneath Weary Moons (Tony Stark angst)

Summary: Every night JARVIS would calm him from his terrors. Then one night, JARVIS walked. He walked from the tower with his own body and mind, and now Tony Stark is truly alone. One shot. Angst.

Genre: Angst

Pairings: None

Trigger warnings: PTSD, depression, Tony Stark crying, mentions of self harm

Song: Hurt - Johnny Cash (Logan Version)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

First he had been stabbed in the heart.

A rocket carved guilt into his chest.

Forever marring him as a dead man walking.

So he had shut down Stark Industries weapons division. And that meant his 'friends' were suddenly busy, and his 'fans' were tweeting death threats. Minor things, he guessed. The real hurt came from seeing how many of them were faking it, not that they themselves were fakes.

Still, sometimes.. it made Tony wonder if, despite it being an attempted assassination, it counted as self harm.

Then Obie had betrayed him.

Tried to kill him.

Made him look like an idiot, a fool, and literally torn his heart (sort of..) from his chest. Realistically it had started well before then, but his blissful ignorance was a sort of barbed comfort blanket. He wanted it back if it meant his life would be.. would be normal again.

He thought he'd seen everything then.

And then of course everyone else tried to kill him. People he'd never heard of. People he had. Some weren't surprising; Justin Hammer always had been a weasel of a man.

Pepper, too, had nearly died.

God, the thought of her in pain- of her falling, screaming, and the fear in her eyes. Never before had he experienced such abject terror. When she left him, Tony couldn't blame her.

"I'm sorry," she croaked, dabbing her eyes. Pepper couldn't look at him but Tony couldn't tear his eyes away from her. "I just can't, Tony. I can't. I'm so afraid- that I'll lose you, or you'll get hurt. Sometimes I worry for myself, too. It's all too much. But I love you, Anthony Stark-"

Everything after that blurred.

Sure, Pepper was right. Hell, she was more than right. When wasn't she. Not one day passed when any of them couldn't help but wonder if it would be the last. And while Rogers and Romanov seemed to thrive on it, Tony drank and Pepper took anti-anxiety pills.

They weren't trained for bullets and spies. They knew boardroom warfare, sabotage, and political espionage.

So she left, and he hugged her, then cried, then he went and built a better suit.

It was okay after a while. JARVIS was always there, and frankly, some days wouldn't have lead to new ones if J hadn't been there. Been his rock.

"J-Ja-ay," Tony slurred his words, glass shaking slightly. Whiskey splashed the rim and dripped onto the already stained carpet.

Silence.

Oh, that's right.. no more JARVIS.

'Right,' Tony thought to himself, 'How many have I had?'

Hazily he could recall maybe eight glasses of liquor. Nothing fancy, it was all straight and whatever was in the nearest bottle. Was eight too many?

"S-s'aah, be f'ne," Tony hiccuped, reaching to pour himself another glass.

He misjudged the distance, however, and slipped in a recent spill. Landing facedown, Tony groaned, vision blurring.

'Fuck.' He thought. 'I'm drunk.'

Struggling to get up, Tony wiggled on his stomach, crawling towards a bar stool before coming to lean against it, panting.

'Never mind.. this is comfortable..'

Why had JARVIS left him?

"Why.." Tony whimpered into the carpet.

Had he been a bad creator? Had he hurt J's feelings? Probably. Tony always did that sort of shit. Made people cry and then abandon him. Or run from him.

"J-JARVIS, buhddy," Tony croaked.

"Sir?" FRIDAY questioned.

Everything slowed down for a second.

"JARVIS?" Tony whispered.

"JARVIS is not here, sir," FRIDAY replied quietly.

So Tony screamed. He screamed and he thrashed, crying into the filthy carpet. He drooled on himself and choked up, crying like he had when he was still too small to understand why the real Jarvis had also left him.

"Sir, if I ca-"

Tony choked. "Fuck off, FRIDAY..just.. you aren't JARVIS."

It hurt. It hurt to even think- his only real friend; therapist, mentor, apprentice, his fucking everything was gone. He'd been given a body but it was like he was dead.

What kind of fucking sick god thought it would be funny to take his J away? Is this how mourning mothers feel? But then he had to stop. He couldn't think about it. He didn't want to, it made him feel like he was back in that awful cave in Afghanistan..

And then of course, he'd hurt FRIDAY.

"FRIDAY?" Tony whispered.

Silence.

So Tony lay face down, sobbing silently, and wondered once again why he had to wake up in the morning.

~

•insp• from superhusbands4ever post

Me Trying To Learn Russian Someday

Teacher: Hello.

Me: Freight car.

I wrote 'Accidental' Assault on my tablet and I'm really afraid that typing the last part will be lost to tumblr's app crashes.. 😃😂😢 But it'll be up in the next 3 hours

Hint.

You are a dying star.

Actors are not yours.

I’ve seen a lot of bullshit going around in fandom, and I think it’s time that we cleared some things up. The touching without permission(!!!!!), the asking of inappropriate and uncomfortable questions - it’s wrong and it’s got to stop.

Imagine if you were at work and a customer who you didn’t know came up and touched your face while making a sexual innuendo. Imagine how embarrassed and violated you would feel. Now imagine that this happens on a regular basis, and you might have some idea how this behaviour impacts the people you’re accosting.

Actors at cons and press conferences are just trying to do their job, and while, granted, part of that job is to entertain, it is only within the confines of a film that has been written and directed (often) by someone else. Getting angry at them about their characters actions? Wrong. Touching them without their permission? Wrong (and I can’t believe I need to write this!!!). Asking them questions that make them feel uncomfortable and objectified? Wrong, wrong, a thousand times wrong!

Outside of their film, it is not their job to entertain you. It is certainly not their job to entertain your harassment, sexualisation and objectification. You do not have the right to touch them, to ask inappropriate and often sexual questions, or to get angry with them about their characters or their opinions of these characters. You do not have a right to these people and their bodies! 

Full stop, period, end of fucking discussion.

Reblog if you want a cute lil love letter from a fictional character or actor from your blog. I’ll write every one and put it in your ask box.

Darcy and Bucky. 60: Before you decide to murder me, let me explain...

“Damn neat freak. Why can’t he just leave things out where I need them?” Darcy muttered as she shuffled through Steve’s desk as carefully as possible. If she’d had more time to take photo evidence and ensure she put everything back where it was, she would have. But she’d only been able to convince Nat to kick Steve’s ass for two bouts in the ring, maybe three tops. She didn’t want to encourage too much saltiness between teammates, after all.

“I don’t know if it’s the army or your own tight-assed nature Steve, but why the hell do you have to hide your stuff?”

He’d let her go through his sketches a week earlier and she’d found it. The perfect image she needed for her next attack on Sam. Steve had doodled him as a pin-up model, flirty posture, heels and everything. And it was the exact logo she needed to brand her new assault. Literally. If only Steve hadn’t taken away the notebook as soon as he heard her mildly evil chuckle. Spoilsport. 

If she could just find the damn sketchbook.

She had just started gently rifling through the sock drawer when there was a soft click and the door swung open behind her. Her hands clenched and she plastered a placating smile on as she turned her head. But her teasing cajole died in her throat. That wasn’t Stevie Wonder Boy at the door.

It was Bucky.

Shit.

“Before you decide to murder me, let me explain…”

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