Phil Coulson is amazing because he’s so normal. and if being normal allows you to be that awesome, well, then anyone can be a hero. and that makes each and every one of us unstoppable.
oh goodness. I was reading somebody’s analysis of their favorite Avengers, and this was the last line for the last person on the list:
"Phil Coulson still believes in heroes. And in doing so, he became one."
I made the most pathetically happy noise. Phil Coulson is amazing. He’s the everyman. He’s the one we identify with most, because he doesn’t have any special powers, and he’s not a smooth talker when he’s super excited (because, come on, the whole time he was telling Steve about watching him, his face said why am I still talking this is a disaster somebody stop me please), and he’s not-so-secretly a total dork (did you hear him nerding out with Tripp over the Howling Commandos gadgets?) and he’s snarky and protective of his team and he’s wonderful.
so i’m sitting here, reveling in my Coulson feels. like, what if some asshole SHIELD agent was like “Coulson was nothing special” and Steve happened to be standing nearby and decided, no, this wasn’t allowed, you can’t say that about Phil, and chimes in with “Phil Coulson is a hero; one of my heroes.” and, like, when Steve Rogers thinks you’re his hero? youv’e officially made it in life. and Coulson - when Coulson hears, he’s just in shock. the man that he’s spent his life idolizing thinks he’s great, that he’s useful, that he’s a role model and someone to be respected and that he’s perfect in his imperfections.
I just cannot contain my feels.
|Avengers/SPN crossover--when Tony sees the black Impala parked out by the neighborhood greasy spoon, it's love at first sight. Now he's just got to convince the douche in the leather jacket to hand it over (for a generous amount of cash) without getting himself shot--or being lectured to death by Steve before he can seal the deal.|
"Sixty thousand bucks."
The guy- unimpressed, green eyes, a dictionary-definition cocksucker mouth, and a bruise over one eye- smirks.
Smirks with his dictionary-definition cocksucker mouth.
And if Tony wasn’t stupidly, embarrassingly in love with Steve, he’d probably be flirting the pants off of this guy and into the nearest alley.
Tony makes a face. “Seriously? How much was it in the first place?”
"I’m not selling my baby," the guy says flatly. "Piss off."
The guy next to him- long floppy hair, dimples, about twice Tony’s height, arms like tree trunks- says, “Dean-“
"Stay out of this, Sammy."
Tony raises his eyebrows at them both. “O-kay, then.”
Right. Two guys sitting in the diner with a alassic car, all-american everything, and happen to be so deep in the closet they’ve passed Narnia.
"Eighty thousand bucks."
'Sammy' chokes a bit, and the guy- Dean- doesn't react except for his lips- his fucking lips, oh my god- thinning.
Tony blinks as Dean slowly pushes himself up from the table and comes to stand face-to-face with him. “I. Am not. Selling. My baby.”
"Pretty please?" Tony shoots him a pleading look over his sunglasses. "It’s the sexiest car I’ve ever seen and I’ve fallen in deep, deep love with it. I want to marry that car. I want to have dozens of oily, metallic babies with it."
"Forbidden love, then."
"Dude, if you even touch that car with one creepy, car-fetish-y finger, I will chop it off."
Tony grins. “Whoa, touchy. Watch it, big guy, your boyfriend doesn’t look like the type who wants to make a scene.”
Dean almost yells, “What the hell, dude,” but ‘Sammy’ outright laughs at that, clapping a hand over his mouth.
"We’re-" Sam is snorting now. "I’m not- Christ, I’m not the one he’s having the sexual crisis over."
"What the FUCK, Sa-"
A hand closes around Tony’s, tugging gently. “What’s going on here?”
Dean looks stuck between sorry and surprised at the sudden hand-holding, and Tony grins at him and kisses Steve on the mouth. “Nothing, honey. Trying to expand my car collection, if this guy folds.”
"Which he won’t," Sam says from behind them.
"Which I won’t," Dean says, apparently recovering. "I’m not selling."
Tony looks him over, pausing.
"A million bucks."
Dean doesn’t even blink. “No.”
Tony groans loudly. “Oh, my god, what the fuck? You can buy a new car! You can buy lots of new cars with-“
"Let’s just say it has sentimental value," Dean says, squaring his shoulders. "I’m not selling."
"Tony," Steve says, and Tony barely manages to stop himself flinching, because fuck. He knows that voice. It usually happens when Tony is- doing something stupid. Which turns out to be a lot.
Steve stands back slightly, his hand still around Tony’s. “Are you trying to get these men to sell you their car?”
Tony turns his grin on Steve, and, of course, is met with the usual stern look.
Tony’s grin deflates a bit. “Maybe?”
Steve starts to say something, but Tony cuts him off with, “What? I offered them a million bucks for it, if they weren’t so stubborn-“
"We’re not going to sell it," Sam says, still making his way through his chips. "Sorry."
Steve knocks Tony’s arm with his elbow. “Tony, come on. What if someone tried to buy the armour off of you?”
"No one can afford it.”
"And if they could?"
"Then I wouldn’t sell, obviously-"
"Exactly," Steve says. "Just like I wouldn’t sell my shield. We’ve been through a lot with them, and these men have obviously been through a lot with their car. Even if they got a new one, it wouldn’t be the same."
Tony may or may not sulk a bit. “…I guess.”
Steve’s smiling the stupidly adorable smile he does when he knows he’s won. “Okay.” He looks towards Dean, and then Sam, nodding at them each in turn. “Sorry to bother you, sirs. Tony, we need to be back at the mansion in half an hour.”
Tony scuffs the linoleum with his shoe. “Whatever. And you guys are really sure-“
"Yeah, we’re sure."
Tony gives them the puppy-eyes, before Steve tugs at his hand- he could carry him out, if he wanted to, or drag him, but he just tugs slightly.
But Steve is still smothering a smile, so it’s okay. “Tony, Bruce’s cake will go stale-“
"Two million bucks."
"Tony, you can just buy another one-”
"But they won’t be this one, and I love it," Tony whines, shooting a mournful look out the diner window at the seductive, sleek car that’s practically doing a striptease on the street.
"Not selling," Dean repeats for the billionth time.
Tony glares, before finally sagging and letting Steve tow him out.
"I loathe you with every single atom of my being," Tony tells Steve, saying it into his neck.
He feels Steve laugh. “Sure you do, Tony.”
Tony may or may not stroke the car as they pass. “Bye, car. We could’ve had something special, but my boyfriend hates me.”
Steve kisses his forehead, and Tony hmph-s.
"I’m sure you’ll survive," Steve assures him. "It’s just a car."
Tony shouldn’t get such a fluttery feeling in his stomach when he realizes that Steve knows he’s glaring without even looking.
Taylor Swift vs. Avril Lavigne - We are Complicated
#Taylor’s widely acknowledged around town as the ‘good girl’ #Avril’s from the wrong side of the tracks #natural opposites that get paired as partners for a chemistry project #what starts out as schoolwork becomes something more as the girls slowly fall for each other #but there’s trouble in paradise when Avril realizes Taylor’s needy for attention and Taylor thinks Avril’s too edgy #a fight breaks out and the two break it off #Act 1 ends with them storming away from each other to opposite sides of the stage #Taylor sings of how through she is with Avril #and Avril is furious at Taylor for being so complicated
"Take off all your preppy clothes" omfg its so perfect leav e me to die
Let’s play the “how long ‘till I regret having drawn this” game
#and taylor remembers when they broke up the first time #they hadn’t seen each other in a month when avril said she needed space # (they only manage it due to impressive dedication to ducking behind people or casually hiding behind a bush whenever they see each other between classes) #then avril shows up at taylor’s house at the middle of the night #not by throwing rocks at her window or anything #she’s not that cliche #she uses the front door like a normal person and ignores the side-eye taylor’s parents give her #bursts into taylor’s room like #’TAKE OFF ALL THOSE PREPPY CLOTHES’ #bc honestly she promised avril she’s never gonna find her faking #then they have make out angrily against taylor’s 1D posters #but seriously they are never ever getting back together #for real this time #and then a week later avril calls her up and is like I STILL LOVE YOU #and taylor’s just like #i mean #this is EXHAUSTING
|are you still doing prompts because i really want an “i accidentally broke into your house/apartment because my friend lives next door to you and i was in the area, drunk, and i thought i was climbing into the right window and falling asleep on the right couch (and i did wonder when my friend got two cats but i didn’t question it) so now i’m hungover and shirtless in your living room so um hi howya doin” au|
There is someone in Steve’s apartment.
At first Steve thinks it’s normal, the shuffling in the lounge, and he’s opening his mouth to tell Bucky to shut up when he remembers he graduated from that dorm three years ago, Bucky is on a job, and Steve lives alone in an apartment.
Alone. With no-one to shuffle in his lounge.
Burglar, Steve’s brain supplies, and he slides out of bed to grab his baseball bat. He winds his fingers around the base, gripping tight and making his way from his to-small room to his too-small hallway to the lounge, and is raising it to swing when he sees a man sprawled face-first on his couch instead of going through his drawers.
Steve blinks, and then stares. The man’s mouth is open, his cheek smooshed into the couch cushion. His pants, though expensive, are rumpled, he’s not even wearing a shirt, and he’s lying in a way that can’t be comfortable.
The man’s eyes open, and his gaze is hazy and then razor-focused as he zeroes in on Steve’s raised baseball bat, forgotten in his hand, and the man blurts, “Whoa, hey, no, bad,” as he struggles into a sitting position.
|Steve and Tony. Airport!AU, because I've been to one nine times these last few months and I loathe it.|
Steve understands that they do it on purpose to make money while everyone’s stuck here, but he can never help feeling betrayed when he bites into his twelve-dollar sandwich that tastes like plastic more than anything.
Twelve dollars. For a sandwich.
He eats all of it, because he’s going to get his goddamn money’s worth (twelve DOLLARS) even if it does taste like brillo pads.
He’s just finished the sandwich when a voice comes over the PA, informing everyone on Steve’s flight that their plane has been delayed another two hours.
"Fuck, come on," the guy next to him sighs, and Steve glances at him. The guy looks like he has enough money for a private jet, if his clothes are any indicator. His hair is the kind of carelessly tousled that means it probably took hours and a hair stylist to get it right.
Also, he’s hot. Like, Hollywood hot.
Steve clears his throat, going for casual. “That your flight?”
The guy groans noisily into his hands like this is the worst thing that could ever possibly happen to anyone before looking over at Steve. “Yeah, the fucking-” the grimace is gone, replaced by a look of surprise and then a smile that knocks Steve on his figurative ass. “Oh, hi, hello, I’m Tony Stark.”
Steve blinks. “Steve Rogers.”
|non-powered au with soldier!steve and civilian!tony where steve gets leave and surprises tony by coming home a couple months early. (i may have gotten sucked into the vortex of soldiers surprising loved ones on youtube last night.)|
Tony may or may not be freaking out.
It’s an hour after the designated time he and Steve usually skype, and Steve hasn’t come online. Which would be fine, if Steve hadn’t found a way to skype Tony, rain or shine, night or day, bullet ridden or otherwise.
He types another, “Hey, you there,” and Steve continues to be annoyingly offline. Tony tries not to imagine what happened to him that was so bad he couldn’t make it to a laptop, or at least get someone else to.
"He’s fine," Rhodey says from where he’s rummaging in the fridge. "Chill out, Tones."
"I’m chill," Tony replies, fingers white from where he’s gripping the desk. "I’m the chilliest. I’m ice cold. I’m-"
A knock on the door thankfully cuts him off, and Rhodey eyes it. “I paid for pizza last time.”
"I don’t think you get the seriousness of the situation here," Tony says, getting up and heading for the door, checking he has his wallet as he goes. "For all I know, my husband might be dead. Or in a ditch somewhere. Or being held captive by the enemy-"
His words die in his throat as he opens the door and is met with a grinning Steve in his army uniform. The image takes a second to compute, because it’s impossible, and Rhodey’s whooping behind him, and Tony wets his lips.
"You’re very not dead," he says, and then reaches out a hand just to be sure. Steve’s chest stays solid underneath his palm. "Good."
"Not dead," Steve agrees, putting his hand over Tony’s, which is still resting on his chest. "All limbs accounted for."
"I got leave."
Steve raises his eyebrows. “Are you gonna kiss me? It’s not like I’ve been deprived for fifteen months, or anything.”
"You got leave," Tony says. "How long?"
"You’re saying that a lot."
"Yeah," Tony says, and his brain finally catches up with him, and his blinding smile makes Steve’s practically split his cheeks. "You ass, you couldn’t warn me? I’m in sweatpants, our reunion was supposed to be expensive and glorious-"
"Kiss me, you lug," Steve says, and Tony leaps into his arms, and Steve catches him like always.
|that kid tony and steve fic was so cute oh my goddddd BUT what about the opposite situation where all of the avengers were turned into toddlers EXCEPT FOR STEVE AND TONY|
"Natasha-" Tony tries to hold a squirming Thor and a kicking Clint while making his way to the kitchen where Natasha is rummaging in the utensils drawer. "Natasha, put down the butter knife."
She blinks up at him, small knife in her even smaller hand, and Tony swallows. Infant, he reminds himself. Tiny, semi-helpless child. Probably couldn’t kill you with that. She can’t even reach your jugular now.
He yelps as Clint finally decides to kick Tony in the balls, and Tony only just manages not to drop Clint and Thor on the ground, falling to his knees in pain and watching as Thor and Clint run away, cackling.
"Bastards," he chokes out, and looks sideways to see Natasha at eye-level with him. He swipes the knife out of her hand, and she starts pouting, but he just got kicked in the balls and is having none of this shit. "Come on," he says, managing not to snap at her but only just.
He leads her to the playpen which has kept a grand total of NONE of their de-aged teammates inside, and opens the gate for Natasha so she can walk inside.
"Hey," a voice says, and Tony turns to see Steve holding a tiny Hulk that would be adorable if it wasn’t terrifying. Steve holds his green fists still as he wails. "I got Bruce," he says, and Tony moves away as Steve places Hulk in his cage.
"I know, I’m sorry," Steve says when Bruce wails. "We’re really sorry, but you’d hate yourself if you woke up- uh, hopefully the same age- and found out you hurt one of us."
Hulk wails some more and beats his fists against the glass, and Steve sighs, straightens up.
"Thor and Clint got away," Tony tells him, and Steve groans.
"When they get un-infant-ified," Steve starts, and Tony makes a face at the word, "I am making them clean everything up."
Tony hums in agreement, and then looks to his right when he sees a flash of movement. “Fuck.”
"Natasha got out again."
"Fuck," Steve grits out.
"We are never going to have more than one kid," Tony says. "Got it, Rogers?"
Steve stares, eyes wide, before breaking into a surprised grin. “Yeah, I got it.”
He wraps an arm around Tony’s waist, kisses his cheek and have a few seconds to gaze into each other’s eyes before they hear something break and the moment is broken.
Tony sighs. “JARVIS.”
"It appears Thor has climbed onto the top shelf and is now throwing food down to Clint and Natasha."
Another crash, and JARVIS adds, “He does not have very good aim.”
|prompt: steve/tony, where it's TONY dragging Steve away from work/the gym/baking whatever|
"One more batch," Steve begs, eyes bright, hair matted with flour and various kinda of cookie batters. "One more, then I’ll come to bed."
Tony forces his mouth not to twitch. He crosses his arms, because Steve is always with the arms-crossing when he’s trying to get Tony put his projects down and go to sleep. “So this is the last batch. Just like the last three batches.”
"Yes," Steve says after a moment, and then perks up when the microwave dings. "Butter’s melted," he announces, and starts going over to it when Tony blocks him, sliding a hand into Steve’s hair and then grimacing at all the sticky things in it.
"Steve, you’re a mess. Go shower, and then come to bed, this is insane."
Steve stares. “One more batch,” he says finally, and Tony spreads his arms wide.
"The kitchen is literally covered in trays of cookies, Steve. Some of the lounge is covered in cookie trays. I get that you’re stressed- stop moving towards the microwave- but there are better ways to work out stress, come on.” Tony steps even closer, fingers trailing underneath the waistband of Steve’s sweatpants. “Come onnn. I’ll let you ride me- after you shower, Jesus, there’s a chocolate chip stuck on your cheek, you neanderthal- and you can get off a couple of times and we can sleep. You’ve been at this for over a day, enough is enough.”
Steve squirms. “But-“
"I can’t believe you’re saying no to sex, you’re a sex machine, the serum tripled your libido, you want it practically all the time, have the batter fumes damaged your brain?” Tony tugs him closer, sliding his hands lower and pressing his mouth to Steve’s neck, avoiding the bits of batter that have dried there. “Steve. Shower. Bed. Sex. Sleep. In that order.”
Steve considers. “…Okay. But can we have sex in the shower, then in bed?”
"I’m not adverse to mixing up the order in which things happen," Tony deadpans, and when he tugs, Steve follows.
|imagine steve and tony completely and utterly failing to hold a wedding ceremony, like they even managed to fail in doing the "fuck it lets just run away to vegas" thing and end up just saying their vows in the back of a car (maybe they fell into a ditch on their way to vegas), to each other and then just have a civil ceremony the next day to make it official|
"I vow to love and cherish you for as long as I may live," Steve says, and every few words is prompted by a kick against the warped car door, which tears free.
"I vow to always try to see your side in an argument and engage in phone sex with you when one of us is away," Tony says, grinning when Steve sighs at him and pulls a bit of metal back so Tony can crawl into the backseat.
"I vow to stay by your side, in sickness and in health, ‘til death do us part," Steve says, helping Tony out of the upside-down car and onto the muddy grass.
"I vow to love you even when you’re being a huge jackass," Tony says, framing Steve’s face in his hands.
Steve grins, not even pretending like he isn’t misty-eyed. “Back at you.”
"Trust you two to get married in a ditch after crashing your car," Rhodey’s voice comes over the phone. "Do you, Tony Stark, take Steve Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both may live?"
Rhodey’s snort is tinny over the phone. “Do you, Steve Rogers, take Tony Stark to be your lawfully wedded husband, as long as you both may live?”
"You may kiss-" Rhodey pauses. "Okay, nevermind, I hear the kissing. It’s loud. Loud kissing. Loud- moaning- okay, guys, starting the honeymoon a little early there. Come on, aren’t you in a ditch? Next to a mangled car? There are helicopter looking for-"
"Tell them to give us an hour," Steve says, one hand on the phone and the other down Tony’s pants.
"Two," Tony says, and then groans when Steve successfully gets his hand into Tony’s boxers.
"Two," Steve agrees, pulling Tony back into the backseat, which is mostly unmangled.
"You guys are idiots," Rhodey sighs. "See you at the ceremony tomorrow, Pepper’s organizing it and she says you guys have to be there by 10 and if y- okay, I can’t do this, I just heard Captain America talking dirty to my best friend, I’ll see you tomorrow, bye."
They helicopters eventually find them several hours later, naked in the backseat of a totalled car. No-one is surprised.
|someone at a press conference asks cap what his view on same sex marriage is and steve says 'well thats a good question, thank u for asking me that, i was actually hoping you'd ask me that, because we have some news,' and then leans over and starts making out with tony and the whole room is like sHIT WHAT|
They ask the usual questions about property damage and the most recent stories about them that have come out, and then a voice catches Steve’s attention through the din:
"Captain! There has been speculation about it and we’d love an answer: what is your official opinion about same-sex marriage? Yay or nay?"
Steve glances over at Tony, who looks surprised, but nods. Steve leans into his microphone, says, “Thank you for asking me that, I was hoping someone would ask me that.”
"Hoping to clear things up," the reporter asks, grinning, and Steve laughs.
"Uh, yes and no," Steve says, and the reporter is in the middle of asking another question as Steve leans over, past Clint, who is the way, and then kisses Tony Stark.
Reporters gasp, yell, some go silent, and Clint leans back as far as he can in his chair as Steve and Tony make out in front of his face.
The kiss is thorough, Steve licks into Tony’s mouth and cradles his head so he can tilt it for further access. Cameras are going off all over the room, so many of them it’s almost blinding.
They pull back after people start screaming, and then sit back in their seats and wait until things have relatively quietened down. Steve nods towards Tony, who shrugs and gestures in his direction- you do it.
Steve grins, and leans into his microphone. “Um, yes, thank you for your question. My answer is, I’d be a huge hypocrite if I was against it, because as of two weeks ago, Tony Stark and I have been engaged to be married. I’m very happy with our decision to spend the rest of our lives together, and I hope someday everybody will have the choice to do so.”
They have to leave after that, because there’s no getting through to the reporters as they all but maul each other trying to get their question answered first.
When Steve gets out of his chair, Tony leaps into his arms and continues the kiss, and Steve laughs into his mouth and carries him off the stage.
"Little over dramatic, don’t you think," Steve says when they’re out of sight, climbing into a separate car than the others on their team’s request.
"Says you," Tony says, crawling into his lap as the car pulls away from the curb. "Thank you for your question, I’m going to maul Tony’s mouth now, BTW, we’re totally getting hitched. I’m so proud."
Steve grins. “Does this mean we can wear our rings now?”
"Been keeping mine in my pocket ever since you proposed," Tony says, brandishing it at him, and Steve kisses his ring finger before sliding it on.