go-romanoff

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keeping this

this man-

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Powerful

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Pls just anything good pls

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“Oh dear…”

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@sunshineandteddybears asked: Ned Leeds or Peter Parker 

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so i had this weird dream last night…

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can you fucking imagine

Peter quill survives the snap right and is chilling with the avengers when endgame rolls around. he volunteers to go to Vormir bc Gamora obviously and it’s like him and nebula and they get up there and red skull is like “you must lose that which you love” and nebula and quill look at each other and are like ‘I don’t particularly love you’ and so quill fucking reaches into his jacket and pulls out his Zune Yondu got him in gotg2 and chucks it over the edge and red skull’s like wtf? but then it works 

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why did i cry over this why am i an emotional bitch this is adorable

a bABY

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looked so good

Professor Stark in Avengers: Endgame (2019)

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andy’s coming

he is such a mood

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Sebastian Stan is photographed for Back Stage on April 1, 2016 in New York City.

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like for donald trump, reblog for this piece of grass

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screenshots i took for my dissertation:

Another Country (1984)

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why can’t MY life be a 50k slow burn friends to lovers fic

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ASHDKDLLAHKFK

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you rlly gon make me cry huh?

this was so good jesus christ write a novel!!!

Safe and Sound

(gif creds to owner!)

𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙩 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: in which peter and y/n find comfort in each other on a rooftop after the events from the war with thanos.

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: peter parker x avenger!reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: fluff, angst, mentions of death. pure sadness lads.

𝙖/𝙣: im sad so i thought i’d write something after me being inactive for like…a month lol. @go-romanoff enjoy this sadness bb ;)

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 940

- - - ➳

Peter watched the city lights below, his rather tired eyes roaming every glowing light that danced around in the stark sky. He was sitting on another abandoned building - an old shoe factory - and despite the mold and there-could-possibly-be-a-killer-nearby feeling the structure gave off, Peter found himself often coming to sit at the very top, just listening to the commotions below.

After the events with Thanos, well, Peter was exhausted. He tried acting like everything was normal, even though he died when the first fight happened and five years later he came back, only to find out that there was another war to fight. Peter was tired then, when he was brought back to fight against aliens, but it was worse now. Seeing his mentor and only father figure he had die right in front of his eyes felt like Peter was shot multiple times in the heart. He had scars from the fights, yet the ones in his soul were deeper, and still fresh.

With a soft sigh, Peter closes his eyes and listens to the sounds of busy traffic and people talking amongst themselves at such late hours. His suit clings against his body like a protective layer against the slight chilly breeze that hovered about. His heart feels heavy and with every breath he takes, it’s as if someone has placed bricks on his chest.

“What are you doing up here, Peter?” Your voice is soft, laced with concern as you walk idly to were the brunette sat. He doesn’t flinch, already knowing that you’d find him eventually just like always. That, and his spidey senses.

You plop down next to him, letting your feet dangle off the edge.

“Can’t sleep so I decided to come here.” Truth be told, Peter never really slept, and if he did, it was merely three hours before the suffocating nightmares crept inside his head.

Not saying anything, you take this time to let yourself watch Peter. Watch how his eyes, once filled with life, we’re now hollow, holding in a thousand oceans of tears. His face, once holding loving and bright smiles, was now sunken in and pale. He was drowning in his own dispair and it showed.

You scoot closer to Peter, wrapping your arms around yourself to try and keep somewhat warm against the chilly wind. Like the air that hangs around you, Peter is still and cold.

“Pete, it’s cold, we should go-”

“Do you think that there could’ve been a different way? A way for him to not die?” Peter takes a shaky breath as he speaks, his eyes blurring. You’re taken back and you ponder what to say before he’s facing you with streaming tears cleansing his reddened cheeks.

Peter felt the droplets calmly flow onto his open mouth, tasting his own sorrow.

“I-I should’ve done something, y/n. He didn’t have to die, h-he could still be alive.” His voice cracked, along with your heart that ached for the poor boy who stared at you with nothing but agony and dying light etched on his features.

You bring a hand to his cheek, feeling his cold skin against your own warmth, causing you to shiver slightly. You gently wipe his tears and a small, sad smile tugs on your lips.

“He did what had to be done, okay? Tony made his choice, no matter how hard it was. And I know you miss him, I do too, but he’s gone, and we have to move on, Peter. For Tony. For yourself. Tony would want you to keep going forward.” Your own eyes blurred at the mention of the man, along with Peter, who took you under his wing as a father figure. Instead of letting the tears fall, you blinked them back. You had to stay strong, not just for yourself, but for Peter as well.

You saw Tony die, right beside Peter. Tony gave you both one final smile before letting out his last, ragged breath, eyes flickering with a dying light. Peter held onto you for support, not being able to understand that he was finally gone.

That Tony Stark was dead.

Peter closes his eyes once more, leaning his cheek against your hand. The warmth was comforting, peaceful even at the contact. You use your other hand to wipe his tears, soft and gentle.

“I just m-miss him,” He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he opens his eyes, immediately meeting your own. His lip quivers and you frown, feeling your heart tug at his dispair. “I wish I could’ve said goodbye.”

Without warning, Peter wraps his arms around your waist, stuffing his face in the crook of your neck. He held onto you as if you were his anchor keeping him at bay. You felt your body give in, embracing his warmth. Despite the heaviness in his stomach, Peter felt it flutter at the feeling of such closeness between you both. He didn’t want to pull away and neither did you.

A tranquil silence lingers as you and Peter both hold each other under the nights sky. By now, his crying had stopped and he kept his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling the sweetness of your perfume. You ran a hand through his messy hair, playing with the soft curls, Peter humming as you did so.

And as you held Peter, your embrace in which felt like the world stopped on its axis. No time. No wind. No sounds. Just the feeling of your warmth surrounding him in a blanket of pure affection and safety.

At this moment, he was safe and sound.