UPGRADES

02.10.2016: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

_{@ironarmored​  ★ LIKED FOR A STARTER}

★— ❛  _{It’s been a while…}❜

_{THE CONFESSION of words SLIPS out of him without resistance. It has been a while – perhaps not as long as it feels, but still a significant amount of time. He finds himself sliding plate with a slice of ever so luxurious cherry pie, across the table toward Tony.} 

❛  _{We’ve not been here in months— or it feels like years. Not that we’ve had any time to ourselves… You’ve been busy, so have I…} ❜

_{The way his words linger and trail — he’d missed this, is what he was trying to say.} 

_{Any technological advance can be DANGEROUS. Fire was dangerous from the start, and so ( even more so ) was speech —-}

                        _{— and both are STILL DANGEROUS to this day —}

                          _{but human beings would not be HUMAN without them.}

_@ironarmored

ironarmored: // ★BELOVED

❛     𝙽𝙾𝚃   𝙼𝚄𝙲𝙷   𝙿𝙾𝙸𝙽𝚃   𝙸𝙽   𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶  𝙰    _{boyfriend  if  he  won’t  let  me  steal  some  of  his  cherry  pie.                      for the record,  i  can’t  believe  i just said that sentence  out loud  and it wasn’t even remotely an  innuendo.  you take too much milk in your coffee so it’s safe from my clutches .  .  .   for now,  anyway.      ”}

★— ❛ _{ADMITTEDLY, I didn’t catch the innuendo until you pointed it out—}  ❜ _{And most DEFINITELY not something he thought Tony would ever say aloud  ( but he treasured it, nonetheless ) .} ❛ _{No need to sound so OMINOUS, I know how you like your coffee anyway. Not all of us can function on having it black all the time, I’m surprised you’ve not developed an IMMUNITY to it’s effects. — Fine, you can have a bite. But just a BITE, you WERE hesitant to come here, after all, you can’t just reap the rewards now that you’ve figured out that this diner is, by far, the best place to come for a bite in New York City}.  ❜

ironarmored:

^{THERE’S  A  HELL  OF  PUNISHMENT  he deserves for the things he’s done,  but this is the  cruellest  yet.  he’d beg mercy if he knew from who,  and how.   the air dies in his throat as steve touches him,  and for all that the man would never hurt him,  it feels like burning.  it is burning.  and tony has never wanted so badly to turn the taste of ash and gunpowder in his mouth into something  worthy.  he bites back a whimper,  swallows the urge to gasp and go listless under steve’s touch;  his life,  in theory,  has been a long series of dress rehearsals for stifling parts of himself that refuse to simply die.  steve’s hand could span his entire jaw,  and the way the callouses roughen his palms suggest he’s had practice handling rough, hardened broken things.} 

^{maybe,  tony thinks as his eyes slip shut in a moment of silence that’s  damning         and  all too inevitable         he wouldn’t mind tony’s sharp edges.}

^{his world tips on its side,  or steve does,  and then cold air cuts across the space between them like a soft-hewn blow.  it draws a slight hiss under his breath and his fingers  twitch involuntarily  to clutch at the nearest warmth,  falling just short of steve’s knee as if it’d  sear his skin  just to touch him back.  he can’t.  he can’t.  he’s shrapnel in barely-contained skin and bullet wounds,  his hands have only ever touched things that hurt people.} 

^{tony wants to laugh,  or cry;  the bile threatening at the base of his throat is  half-laughter  and  half-madness.  this is all he’s ever invented in his  wildest inhibitions,  when the  whiskey-soaked fever dreams  rip themselves from the leash to charge blindly into the blackest parts of his head.  it’s his mind  playing tricks on him,  again,  always at his expense,  and he feels his eyes go bright and painfully dull,  gathering wet at the corners where his vision blurs not from the cheap liquor but  perfect, awful clarity.} 

^{❛     someone like me ‘ain’t got no business  …     ❜      steve doesn’t hear his meaning,  and tony drinks down the humiliation of that, too.  he breathes out,  measuring the tremor of his lungs like he can catch them before they shudder apart.}  

^{god,  there’s  nothing fucking fair  about this.}  

^{but then,  not much in tony’s life has ever been about  justice.  he knows this better than any dead man,  or graveyard.  blue eyes  strikingly sober,  he rivets them on steve like he’s seeing him  real  for the first time.}

^{❛     y’ shouldn’t  …  be this  good,  to me.  ‘m jus’  …     ❜      a wretched washed-up morally depraved old drunkard.  less,  worse,  than nothing.     ❛     i don’t deserve it.     ❜}

_{★— A GOOD CHRISTIAN man, well respected by his town, earning their love and displaying his faith by attending church as regularly as he could. His earmarked bible – copious pages folded and marked as a reminder to himself to carry on without being tempted by the path of darkness. He shall not be lured. But one thing his teachings had managed to ingrain in him was – to always care, to be the provider of SANCTUARY. But if one thing was absolute, it was that god loves all – and that was something Steve had taken to heart.} 

                    _{The man in his cot exhales drunken murmurs, such slurred words only prompt a pitiful smile - though not entirely pitiful; laced with endearment. To see a man drunk was to see them at their most vulnerable, he had learned that with his father, and now was seeing it every night his songbird would sing outside his window, almost on cue. A beautiful songbird, as mentioned before – ADMIRATION ran deep, perhaps stepping into the shadows – straying from the light in the depths of his mind. But perhaps he needed the cool shadows against him, the constant warmth of the sun taking its toll…} 

                      ❛ _{Y’deserve to be looked after. Everyone does – but who is goin’ to be the one hollerin’ outside my window every night?}  ❜ _{Syllables tethered together that may have been harsh sounding, but were spoken with endearment}.  ❛ _{You ain’t a bad fella, Tony– c’mon now, you feelin’ better?}  ❜

                    _{The gentle sheriff dabs the cloth back into the water, ringing it out – cold and soothing, he can feel it in his palms before pressing it down Tony’s neck, gently tugging at his collar to pull the fabric out of the way.} 

                    ❛ _{Now y’just need a good scrape and you’ll be good to go. S’shame I ain’t no cutsman… As you can see..}. ❜ _{He gestured to his long hair, and even longer sideburns - attempting to made some sort of chit-chat between them while he was cleaning Tony up – it was filling the air, to prevent him from staring at the man, listening to every breath he made. Without noticing he was leaning close, straying fingers through the raven locks before dabbing his temple with the cloth.} ❛ _{Speak to me, songbird. Y’ain’t fallin’ into your slumbers just yet, are ya?}  ❜

ironarmored:

CALL  IT  MADNESS,  CALL  IT  _{treacherous,  unchecked,  audacity propelled to extremity by the adrenaline yet to die from his veins                                  delirium,  the taste of ash and gunmetal blurring into a leaden melange at the back of his throat,  is coloring his rationality in shades of  dizzying elation.  to be this alive,  and  this afraid of living  another moment without fear of death,  is either damnation or  utter bliss.  and for once,  for just one precious disregard,  he wants something more than the terrifying reminder of how much hell it is to be here,  to be breathing.}  

^{he can’t deny the hollows of him that ache for the  thrill of self-annihilation  after letting yet another chance slip through his fingertips,  always too like oil or sand.  the carve of his ribs buries his timebomb under a surge of chemical exhilaration.  his eyes are the blue of the horizon at the farthest reaches of  outer stratosphere  when  oxyen  begins to fade.}

^{❛      that’s what the  kiss  is for,  mr. tactical genius.      ❜}

^{it doesn’t sound like a voice that is his own.  the lowness of his voice;  the soft,  gravelled husk doesn’t belong to this space between him and steve.  and it’s not the words themselves,  but  what he doesn’t say,  what he has never said,  and how badly he wants this.  it’s too honest,  painfully,  brutally  exposed,  and simultaneously not sincere enough.  there are better ways of doing this,  better ways of self-destructing  if that’s really what he wants}                                 

^{he wants,  so much,  to be honest.  he’s never been brave enough,  or anything enough.}

^{the last dregs of  near-death  singing his veins,  and a quiet inevitability to the stillness inside him,  he draws close enough to steve to touch.  in the armor        invincible,  he thinks with a tinge of the hysterical;  indestructible         he looms a couple inches taller than steve.  everything,  then,  from the angle of his lashes to the dip of his body tilts in a  question.  and maybe it’s one he’s been asking himself  since the beginning  of all this,  since he first met steve,  since he first let himself think  i might love him.   i love him.}

^{(     tell him no.   tell him you don’t.   you don’t.     )}

@youusedme​   //   cont.

_{★— FIXATED on a tone that seems not to BELONG to the man — it seemed somewhat foreign, distant and for the longest of whiles, Steve couldn’t place his finger on WHY.} 

               _{Those words were wishful – they held some sort of GRAVITAS about them, not because of the way they were uttered, but because of what they were – what they MEANT. Even that aftermath of a compliment – a genius in his own trade calling Steve one – goes noted.} 

              _{Through years of wishes – through all they had experienced together – what he had held for Tony was so FRAGILE; a rose with most of it’s petals torn from the bud – EXPOSED AND RAW, yet, protected by those very thorns. The moment either of them would step close, they would get hurt.} 

              _{STURDY DRUMMING – A rhythm pounded time after time in his chest, beating like a melody of a song as Tony stepped closer. And it was in those moments Steve would try and humour him —- to pass off as though those words that he had spoken were a joke, even though – he knew in his heart of hearts, that there was SOMETHING behind them.} 

              _{A gloved palm raises – tentatively — to rest upon Tony’s chestplate. The magnetism of the man is something he can’t refrain from, azures meet those solid blues – the sunlit sky on the clearest day couldn’t rival the colour.} 

              _{It seems as though in that moment Tony uses his poise, his armoured shell that stands at a mighty 6′’6 – those four inches that cause the man to angle his head upward – to full advantage. There’s something alluring about him as he stands; a KNIGHT soaked in the light of post-battle glory, shimmering, UNYIELDING.} 

              _{For a moment, Steve thinks that nothing else matters – and FORGETS the blood spilled between them.} 

                   ❛  _{Quit toyin’ with me, Tony.}  ❜ 

              _{He utters with a laugh dousing each word, almost as though he were joking – but a part of him that he had hidden for so long, PROTECTED for so long – meant it. Some would say that each word spoken was laced with the need for validation.} 

prodxgaliron:

hellogarbagetime:

hellogarbagetime:

It’s Day 1 of the Avengers Assemble s4 Countdown, everyone! Only seven days left until season 4 airs! *drumrolls* Anyway here’s Steve….all alone………….. (it’s okay, I’ll post a fix-it on the last day of the countdown!)

I showed this to my friend earlier and her face went from 😍 to 😐 in half a second flat, and that was hilarious and I wanted to share that.

@youusedme