In the end of the Avengers, instead of punishing Loki, Tony pats him on the shoulder & says “It’s okay, my dad was kind of a dick too.” And then all the Avengers & Loki go out for shwarma together and they don’t leave Loki in the car this time. Not mine by the way but I found it somewhere & if you don’t already have it I think it’s a good idea :3
Submitted by anon
If someone wants to point me to the original post so I can properly link, that would be great!
Everyone has a favorite movie. Clint knows Natasha’s favorite movie. It was Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol. He remembers the first time they watched the movie. By the time his “look-a-like” showed up, Natasha uncontrollably squealed, for the very first time. Natasha always told Clint that Brandt has “a pretty face”, making Clint jealous about it (and “Hulk out”). There was a time when Natasha has the turn to choose the movie, and it turned out like this:
Natasha happily sighed, “Ah. Mission Impossible.”
Tony joined in, “Ghost Protocol?”
Clint moaned, “You wanna watch that again? Tasha surely just wanna see my pretty face. Just turn around, dear. You’ll see the pretty face.”
Natasha hissed, “Barton, stop bragging about your pretty face. Yes, Brandt does look exactly like you, but his face is prettier than yours.”
Clint sat straight, “Oh come on, Nat. I’m a marksman! He’s… he’s—He’s only an analyst! I’m the greatest marksman.”
“He’s sexier than you!”
“Ouch, Nat, what the hell? He’s only fiction!”
“But he’s still hotter than you.”
Tony always reminded everyone, “Never let Clint see pictures of Brandt.”
Submitted by ysabbb
Bruce is studying to become a Doctor. Some of his team mates are worried that he’s trying to hard to be useful to the team and not let himself be happy- Steve in particular has a problem with meddling. But they don’t really understand.
Since the accident, Bruce has taught himself quite a bit of medicine. While his original education covered a lot, while on the run he found that he needed a lot more knowledge of how to practice medicine both for searching for a cure and to keep himself ship shape. As he learned he started to use his knowledge to help others. He always felt under qualified though, and is excited to fill in the gaps. The Bruce who was a scientist was an over ambitious man with terrible anger issues. Bruce doesn’t want to be that man anymore.
He also wants to be at least as useful in the field when he’s not the Hulk.
Submitted by condonzack
Tony Stark sometimes wrote poetry. And sometimes he saved it onto a special usb drive which he then sometimes hid in a special place. Of course, he would never admit to it. The one thing he didn’t have confidence in; the way he scribbled his feelings out. Every time he wrote a new poem or haiku, he saved the document and gave it a ridiculous title like, ‘gayer than capsicle’s spangely suit,’ or ‘equivalent to legolas,’ or even, ‘could never live up to shawarma.’
Still, he kept on writing. And kept on telling himself how ridiculous those words and emotions and memories were. I mean who wanted to read about the way his skin felt when he wore that suit for the first time? The way it shook his bones and tangled the flow of blood through his veins? Who cared about the color of his fathers eyes when he was disappointed? The chocolate brown that melted through the laughs in Tony’s flushed little cheeks? Why would anyone care about the fear he slept with every night? Cradled against his chest. The only thing that kept him alive. The light that assured his safety, but guaranteed his death. The light that could always glow. And could always dim.
No one wanted to know how vulnerable the man who had everything really was. The one who always spoke, but never really said anything at all.
But one day Steve was wandering around the ridiculously huge and extravagant STARK tower and came across Tony’s floor. He quietly walked in, afraid Stark might jump out of nowhere and throw some sarcastic remark at him about how he’s not suppose to be in there. Or worse, he could start rambling on about technology. God help him if it came to that.
While Steve was looking around, he noticed Tony lying on the floor with an empty vodka bottle smashed to pieces next to his arm. He rolled his eyes and walked over, swinging him over his shoulder.
“Can’t have you sleeping near all that glass, Stark. You could roll onto it and get some nasty scratches. If you’re gonna get drunk, at least find a bed to pass out on.”
A small chuckle escaped his lips as he laid Tony on a couch near by. Sure, he wasn’t too fond of the guy, but no one deserved to sleep on the cold floor.
As soon as he began to walk back towards the door, Steve heard a small clatter. Something hit the floor.
Startled, he whipped his head around at the sound. He noticed a small rectangular device lying right next to the couch. Quickly and quietly he walked over and picked up the strange object, practically flying out the door with it gripped tightly in his hand.
For a while he sat in silence; trying to decipher the thing, but no such luck. Instead, he ended up asking Bruce for help. And he knew exactly what it was. They put it into Bruce’s computer and a little window popped up; filled to the brim with hilariously named documents.
“Spangely? What’s the supposed to mean?!” Steve questioned defensively.
“Well it is a little—”
“Yeah, never mind.”
Steve let out an irritated sigh, ignoring the comment.
“Anyways, what does all this mean?”
Bruce skimmed through the documents and began to open them one at a time, explaining to Steve the definitions of several words he didn’t understand quite clearly.
After he finally finished his lengthy and extremely confusing (for Steve anyway) explanation, the men were shocked by what they were reading. They sat in complete silence for at least an hour. Nothing but reading and rereading every syllable. Every stanza. Every haiku. Everything.
And no one knew how to speak when they finished. So many words had been read. Steve had forgotten how to use every single one of them to form an intelligible, proper sentence in English.
Bruce excused himself, probably to go think about all the scientific reasonings behind such metaphors and similies (Steve assumed), but Steve stayed. He grabbed a stack of blank computer papers and two sharpies (red and gold) , and set himself to work.
It took him three hours to copy down every word and punctuation of Tony’s heart, but he did it. He made sure not to miss a single one. And when he gathered all the papers together and looked over his work, a soft smile laced itself between his cheeks.
For the rest of the evening Steve stayed on his floor making Tony a book. He missed dinner, movie night (which usually just consisted of everyone fighting over which movie to watch, until Bruce finally hulked out and they all agreed to watch his), and even their annual training session (which Steve never missed, not once) and stayed up ‘till at least four in the morning. But he had finished! It was done! And on the cover of the book in large golden letters it read, ‘Tony Stark, The Man of a Thousand Words.’
Steve was so excited and proud of his work, that immediately after he’d finished, he headed straight for Tony’s floor. He ran through the door and practically tripped over his own feet in his giddiness. The door to Tony’s bedroom was cracked. As he slipped in, he noticed the Stark was still sound asleep in his bed, soft little snores shaking his cheeks. Steve felt that smile creeping onto his lips again, but he fought it off. He walked over to the side of the bed and gently laid the book on the nightstand.
“Thank you for telling such amazing stories. And writing them so beautifully, as well.” He whispered. And he was gone.
Later that morning Tony’s eyes sprang open. He sat up and groaned, letting out a long, dramatic stretch and yawn. His hair was a mess. Had he gotten drunk again? He looked around. Nope, there was definitely a bed under him. Good. He reached over to grab his water, when he felt something else instead. A book? He didn’t read before he went to bed. So, why was there a book there?
Tony grabbed the book and curiously stared at the cover. As the words began to sink in, his eyes slowly widened.
“‘Tony Stark, The Man of a Thousand Words?’” He mumbled, confusion knotted in his throat.
Quickly he flipped through the pages as each word and thought and emotion sank into his skin. And before he knew what he was doing, he held the book up, ready to throw it across the room and never look at it again, until he saw the back cover.
‘From Steve Rogers..’ He froze. His eyes unable to pull themselves away.
‘On the day we met and fought Loki, I said some pretty bad stuff to you on the ship. And I thought I knew who you were the second we spoke. Arrogant. Sarcastic. A show-off. I mean, sure, you may still be all of those things…..’ Tony smirked, reading over the rest of the paragraph.
‘But now I know what makes you the person you really are. And when you take that suit of armor away, you’re a courageous, honest, inspiring, and understanding man. I’m sorry I never gave you the chance to prove that. I’m sorry I wasn’t around when you were young to light up those sad, brown eyes. I’m just, sorry no one else knows how much you care about everyone else and how little you care about yourself. I hope this book helps you realize that you can write, that you can care about yourself just as much as you care about the world, and that you can keep on letting that light shine through the darkness. And now matter what, that light will never go out. I’ll always remember you for who you really are. Sincerely, your friend Capsicle.’
Tony couldn’t help it. No matter how much anger he wanted to release or how many horrible things he wanted to do just knowing that someone read his person writings, he couldn’t hold back the tear that quietly escaped his eye. And the smile that nipped at his cheeks.
He placed the book under his pillow and whispered, “Thanks, Cap.”
Quickly he got up and pressed the intercom button to Steve’s room, sharpening the rage in his voice.
“STEVE ROGERS, DON’T EVER GO THROUGH MY STUFF AGAIN!” he shouted, making sure to sound as menacing as possible. Of course, he knew the old geezer still didn’t know how to work the system, but he knew he would always listen. Boy, did he owe him for this one.
Submitted by cappysteve