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carolmunson · 1 year

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alive with the glory of love

(older!rockstar!eddie x older!actress!wife!)

a valentine's slice of life with our favorite rockstar almost thirty years into our marriage. the year is 2023 and we're still stella rink and we're still famous as hell. aged like fine wine. a decades long career and a decades long marriage with two twins in their late twenties. this is semi from the twins perspective. we know what our life was looking like before, let's see what it looks like now. :) eddie manip by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple cw: 18+ minors dni, allusions to smut/wearing lingerie, but overall this is a short little something. reader and eddie are both 57, so, sorry if you don't want to be fifty seven. but if i have to be in my 'early twenties' every time i read a fic, you can be older for like, seven and a half minutes.

The phone eases into focus, Violet’s giggle sounds as she presses record, leaning on her elbows at the kitchen island. The room is a sun drenched, black and white tiled vision — still partially stuck in the 90s, remnants of your old life, despite the ongoing renovations. Despite the teasing from your adult children. Some stuff just never lost its charm – plus, the kids were calling it ‘a 90s vibe’ and you were both pretty sure that was cool.

“Morning, happy Valentine’s Day,” Violet says sleepily, Van trudging in behind her. They both take lazy seats on the bar stools across from the chef stove that their father is delicately working over.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, honey,” Eddie calls over his shoulder, daintily pouring pink batter into a cookie cutter mold on a hot pan. The kitchen and dining room are filled to the brim with flowers and balloons. Eddie’s been up for hours getting everything set up for you, some things never change. Some things never get old.

“What’re you doing?” Van asks.

“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m making mommy—” He turns around with a furrowed brow, deepening his forehead creases before he realizes they’re recording him. He sighs before turning back to his task, “Guys, again with the phone?”

“C’mon dad, they love you!” Violet begs, putting her phone down and shoving it in her sweatshirt pocket, “Van show him the comments on the last one.”

“They think you’re hilarious, they want you to have your own account,” Van encourages, he opens his own phone to bring over to his dad. He grew up to be a spitting image of the two of you, as if they pasted Eddie’s face on his and gave him all your other features. The color of your eyes, the texture of your hair. Your bright, enrapturing smile. A perfect fifty-fifty.

Van scrolls slowly through the endless comments, Eddie squinting down at them, “Van, I don’t have my glasses.”

Eddie peers down lower, “What does that mean? ‘I know it’s big’? What’s big?” “New…choker…just…dropped? I didn’t make chokers for merch,” he shrugs, waving him away to pay attention to the stove. “Ew,” Violet laughs, “Stop making him read these out loud, that’s so gross.”

“You should still make your own,” Van says, sitting back down, “It’d do way better than the one for Corroded.”

“Have your mom do it,” Ed shrugs off, “She knows how to do all that internet shit.”

“That Howard Stern clip is going viral again,” Violet says devilishly, “The girlies are obsessed with you.”

“I don’t care about the girlies, Vi,” Eddie blushes, flipping one of the pancakes on the pan, “I care about your mom.”

“I just wanna show them what you guys do for your favorite holiday,” Violet whines, “They’ll love it.”

“They’re gonna call him a simp,” Van teases, a look of realization washing over his face, “Wait, you’re such a simp for mom, actually.”

They both laugh, Eddie doesn’t know what ‘a simp’ is so he laughs too.

“That’s a good word for like, a DND character type — you should see about that in your campaigns,” Ed continues while he plates a pancake on an ever growing stack of pink and red.

“Ohmygod Dad, no, that’s not—“ Van laughs silently into his hands.

“Stop making fun of him, he’s old,” Violet pleads between giggles, taking her phone out again, “Dad, seriously can you just tell us what you’re doing? Why do you love Valentine’s Day?”

“Is this for your TikTok thing?” he asks, pulling his dark curls up in a ponytail with a black silk scrunchie, bangs he can’t quite part with falling in waves over his brow. ‘My Pilates teacher was telling me they’ll be safer on your hair,’ you’d said — and he’s never been one to say no to you. Every time the kids came home they’d take their phones out and make Tiktok’s of the two of you, sometimes you’d make a solo one for Violet or Van’s page if you felt like it. But with Twitter and Instagram, you didn’t want to overload your assistant with some other form of social media – but it looked like the two of you were really popular. Especially Eddie.

Violet educated you about ‘fancams’ which were just clips to music. There were a lot of the two of you together, or you solo from your movies and shows in the 90s. Progressions of you then and now and how you’re still ‘so hot’ and ‘unproblematic’. Eddie’s almost always started with the clip of him at Howard Stern, jaw ticking while he tried to keep his composure: ‘Excuse the fuck out of me, what did you just say about my wife? Do you wanna lose your fuckin’ teeth?’ The comments were always flooded with a mess of young people losing their shit: ‘god i’ve seen what you’ve done for others’ ‘stopppp he’s obsessed with her’ ‘@vidawn i hope your mom can fight’ ‘@vannywayne @vidawn i’m five years younger than u but i would be a great step dad’ ‘when is someone gonna fight howard stern FOR ME?’ ‘@vannywayne @vidawn they’re thirsting over your dad again’ ‘i’m banging on the walls of my enclosure’ 'ewwww we hate cheaters' ‘i NEED to fuck him’ ‘@vannywayne you look EXACTLY the same’ ‘are they looking for a third?’ 'idgi he looks dirty' ‘they are notttttt making them like him anymore’ ‘not him being old enough to be my father i’m sick’

“Obviously,” she snaps back, rolling his eyes when he starts touching himself up for the camera.

“Should I do a couple of push ups so I look buff or…?” he teases. Violet and Van make a face that puts any face you’ve given him to shame. It’s the only regret he has about having kids with you – all that attitude had to go somewhere.

“Fine, fine,” he huffs, “I’m ready for my close up, Vi.”

“You’re so cheesy, dad. Just be normal for like, five seconds,” Violet huffs, taking out her phone again, “You’re ready?”

“M’ready,” he smiles. “Okay, so, what’re you doing?” Violet asks again.

“I am making pancakes,” he starts, pouring red better into the cookie cutter mold on the pan this time, “In a heart shape, for your mom.”

“How long have you been doing this?” she asks, a smile spreading across her face. It matches her dads. There was no mistaking that Violet was Eddie Munson’s daughter.

“Since we got together, so – the first one was in 1990,” he muttered, flipping the pancake, “I do it every year ‘cause she loves it. They’re strawberry, but they’re pink and red ‘cause I put food coloring in them.”

“Is Valentine’s Day her favorite holiday?”

Eddie grins, “No, her favorite holiday is the fourth of July. Not ‘cause she’s got a boner for America or anything. She just likes fireworks and when I use the grill.” “Is it your favorite holiday?” Van asks this time. Eddie nods, a bright blush pushing up on his face.

“How come?” Violet and Van ask at the same time. Eddie turns the burner off, placing the heaping plate of heart shaped pancakes on the center of the island. He opens the wine cooler on the opposite wall, pulling out a bottle of champagne and two flutes from the top cabinet.

“‘Cause I get to spoil your mom all day,” he smiles, “She deserves it.”

“You spoil her every day,” Van teases, “I can’t think of a more doted on woman on earth than mom.”

“She’s very special,” he shrugs.

“And you do this every year?” Violet asks, zooming in on the pancakes.

“Every year for the past thirty four years, well, minus ninety-two,” he frowns a little, “We had some time apart that year.”

“Still had my chef make them for me though.”

Your voice cuts in from the large arch way connecting to the dining room and Violet pans quickly over to get you in frame.

“Hi mom,” Vi says, “Is this your favorite holiday?”

“No,” you shake your head and laugh, the same laugh he fell in love with, “It’s the fourth of July. C’mon Vi, how long have I been your mom? Do you even know me?” “You’re supposed to be in bed, honey,” Eddie frowns, “You’re ruining the surprise.”

“The surprise that’s older than my kids? How could I forget,” you grin, rounding the island and greeting your husband with a gentle kiss, “Happy Valentine’s day.”

“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” he murmurs into a second chaste peck, “You’re supposed to let me bring them up to you.”

“My kids are home, I don’t wanna spend all day in bed,” you pout. He pouts back dramatically, tugging on your arm to pull you flush against his chest.

“I thought you loved spending all day in bed with me,” he pushes some of your hair back before resting a palm on your cheek, moving in to kiss you deeply. The scruff on his chin scratches around your mouth but you never care because he still kisses you, he kisses you every day. He’d kiss you all day if you let him. You had too many girlfriends whose ex-husbands were on their third wife and every year they’re more surprised that Eddie is still on his first.

“Okay, I think that’s our cue to leave,” Van says, Violet stops recording. Their faces sour.

“Yeah we don’t want a January ‘94 repeat or anything,” Vi jokes. The twins high five at their own mean reference to your horrific sex tape debacle, but you and Eddie toss them a playful glare.

“Hey, she might be your mother, but she’s my wife,” Eddie warns, hand sneaking down to rest on the small of your back to pull you close to him, “Don’t mess with her.”

“Yeah,” you tease, crossing your arms, “You saw what he did to Howie’s studio. I just gotta say the word.”

“So scary,” Violet rolls her eyes, leaving the kitchen with her twin in tow, “We’re taking the Jeep to get Jamba Juice, do you want anything?”

“My usual,” you answer while Eddie goes to the fridge to get grapefruit juice out of the fridge, “And get daddy’s usual too. Do you want his card? Where’s your card, hun?”

“Wherever you last left it,” he responds, gracefully pouring grapefruit mimosas for the both of you.

“It’s in my purse,” you call out.

“Which one?!” Violet calls back, both of them waiting by the door.

“The pink Kelly!”

“Got it! Do you want anything else?” Van calls out.

“Just uh,” Eddie giggles to himself, tossing you a once over, “Take your time!”

“Gross!” they yell back in unison. Eddie waits for the door to close to pull you back into him, he watches you at first. Brown eyes cascading over the slope of your nose, your cheeks, the crinkles at the edge of your eyes, your smile lines. He looks at you like he’s looking at you for the first time, every time. He looks different, but the same. Dark curls smattered and entwined in silver, a nose ring, a never ending scratch of overgrown stubble. Deep lines on his forehead that exaggerate his already animated features. Lips still full and warm, hands still big and covered in rings. He’s kept his body real tight for fifty-seven, still throwing himself in the gym daily. ‘If I’m gonna be addicted to something now it might as well be like, my cardiovascular health, babe.’ His crows feet make him somehow more attractive, his smile got better with age. He still makes your heart race when he catches your eye from across the room. “You wearing that little red thing I like?” he purrs in your ear. The tie to your robe sliding between his inked fingers.

“Maybe,” your finger trails over a tattoo on his bicep, “Maybe, I got something new for you to see. Maybe it’s black, maybe it’s strappy. Maybe it’s that thing you saw when we went shopping last week.”

“Christ,” he huffs, pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping back over to the counter, “Do you ever stop getting hotter? Eat your breakfast before I bend you over this bar stool.”

“Let’s bring it upstairs like you wanted,” you smile, following him closely to press your hips up against him, “We can get a little messy.”

“Yeah?” he growls, pushing part of your robe away to see a peek of black lace and strappy leather, “Fucking god, Stell.”

“C’mon,” you whisper breathily, pushing up on your tiptoes to kiss him again, “They’ll be home soon.”

Some things have changed, some things remain the same. He still fucks you like a rockstar.

#eddie munson rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson fluff #rockstar!eddie fluff #older!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n

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phoenixyfriend · 1 year

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[squints at the MCU] Tony Stark has displayed more ability to weather interrogation and torture than Steve Rogers.

This is "(displayed more)(ability)," not "(displayed)(more ability)," to be clear.

(I know fiction’s depiction of torture is famously propagandafied, but in this case, it’s not about torture for information so much as physical traumas shown on screen.)

(Anyway, have a rant I did on discord the other day.)

It's not really so much about "resisted the urge to hand over information" as "survived a truly harrowing experience and still came out of it trying to do good."

Tony's very first movie involves getting repeatedly drowned while in constant pain from bomb injuries as a civilian contractor, and I… don't think I can remember anything even a little similar with Steve

I don't think he's ever been captured for long before breaking out? All his injuries are in active battle, not torture.

Like... Steve went through something horrible with the ice and losing Bucky, nobody can argue that. But I think it's very telling, sometimes, that movie Steve, especially 2012 movie Steve, is completely unaware of the absolute nightmare that Tony experienced in his solo movies.

I have so many feelings about Tony Stark being the epitome of "guy who was raised and manipulated into being a bad person by someone he trusted, and (after a horrible experience) attempts to be a better person, constantly and consistently, even if he sometimes fucks up in the execution."

And the way that some fics elide his experiences in cleaning up other people's messes (first Obadiah's, then Howard's) and how that doubtlessly compounded his many neuroses from fixing messes that he did actually create himself is just

I have a lot of feelings

And am also feeling a little bitter and salty about how Tony Stark's MCU incarnation reportedly took some inspo from Elon Musk... and a little petty and satisfied about just how drastically we've all be shown that Musk can never live up to the idea of 'billionaire with inherited wealth who actually, without hesitation, risks his own life to save millions' that he tried to use PR to achieve in the media with 'my electric cars are gonna save the world' stunts about things he didn't actually have a hand in inventing

I'm just reading some fics I really enjoyed when I was still in the YA fandom, and there was a reference to a line Steve said in the movies and I started thinking (again) about how frequently fans take lines from Steve or Sam about Tony as gospel, because they haven't seen Tony's movies, and the lines from the star spangled boys are contextually meant to show that they don't know jackshit about Tony or his life, because they are directly contradicted by multiple prior films.

Also like... how often Steve's traumas get explored (in fic) in a way that Tony's just... don't? At most, his issues about Howard get explored, but that's it.

There's this moment in CACW that people take as Accurate and it infuriates me.

Tony Stark: [Back in the cell.] Just look. Because that is the fellow who was supposed to interrogate Barnes. [He shows a holographic image of Doctor Broussard.] Clearly, I made a mistake. Sam, I was wrong. Sam Wilson: That's a first.

Which, like... it's a bad movie. Obviously. But also

That line is immediately followed by Tony revealing that he's here to help the others and is sabotaging the security to make sure Ross can't take advantage, and yet fanfic still uses Sam's quote to promote anti-Tony agendas!

And 'Tony admits he fucked up' is. Like. Listen to me

Tony's first solo movie is fixing Obadiah's machinations. *

His second solo movie is fixing his Dad's fuckup.

His first team movie is fixing Thor's mistakes.

His third solo movie is fixing something that is only tangentially his fault.

It's not until AoU that the fuck-up is really his and his alone (well, not counting Bruce), and even then, even then, a massive portion of the blame is narratively laid at Wanda's feet!

And only then do we get this man, who has spent five movies seeing what happens when people don't take responsibility for their actions, or have anyone riding them to be ethical, who has criticized himself for neither having that oversight nor providing that oversight for people who snuck shit under his nose, that is when we get Tony weighing in on the side of "most countries on the planet are agreeing with this and it's for a reason, please work with me here, maybe we can get some of it rolled back to be less authoritarian and more reasonable."

* and removing himself from the military industrial complex he was raised and groomed to be in, but that's a system and not an individual act or a set 'villain'

Or as @firebirdeternal put it:

I would say that his first solo movie does have a large element of fixing his own mistakes too, it's just that his "mistake" was Trusting the Wrong Person and not taking personal responsibility for how his actions are affecting the world. (Which, he immediately does upon coming back from being captured? "We're going to immediately stop making weapons, because it's making the world worse" and then when Obadiah cuts him out of the company he goes "Oh. Okay no that didn't work, have to personally fix all this then.") and yeah it's just Tony have plenty of reasons to be on the side of "Someone needs to have oversight over this"

IM1 is such a good exploration of someone in privilege saying "this stops now" in a situation where they do have control because they have been confronted with their mistakes in a way that's unavoidable

It's also like, a great example of the fantasy of the Super Hero. Because Tony Stark, the businessman, even with all his wealth and knowledge, isn't able to stop the systemic harm being caused by His Own Company. One person isn't able to do that, even with the best of intentions. It isn't until he becomes something else, something more, a Super Hero, that he's able to make any kind of meaningful change on his own. Like IM1 is just a phenomenal movie. It understood it's subject material so incredibly well.

And people skip it and then take Steve and Sam at their word about Tony's strength of character and moral convictions and I scream.

THIS MAN FLEW A NUKE INTO A WORMHOLE WITH THE FULL EXPECTATION THAT HE WAS GOING TO DIE

Yeah, like, that Jump on the Grenade mentality is something that he and Steve actually literally share.

They both had 'jump on the explosive to save people' moments in their introductory movies.

I find so much more strength and inspiration in stories like Thor and Tony, where they are inherently fuck-ups and were shitty people and they are trying so damn hard to be better, which is more Tony than Thor really, but both of them and their first movies are just. I find that more inspiring than Steve or T'Challa or any other hero who was already a good person and just Became Great.

Tell me about the person who has to struggle to find that moral choice. Tell me about Natasha dragging herself from her oceans of blood and Tony fighting the government over whether they have the rights to use weapons he's created and about Thor having to reckon with his family's power being born of imperialistic ravaging of other cultures.

I want to hear about the people for whom being good is hard and a choice they don't have to make, but then they make it anyway.

Also I stand by "I am Iron Man. [infinity snap]" being the most amazing bookend the MCU could have done and probably the best part of the Endgame.

#Tony Stark #character analysis #phoenix talks #MCU #Iron Man Movies #Iron Man #Avengers #AoU #CACW #AEG #torture mention

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sardonic-the-writer · 1 year

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Better Call Saul characters with saying I love you for the first time? Don’t care who you have but can it at least include Howard and Nacho?

yeah sure! slight spoilers for season five.

—JIMMY ☆

The first time Jimmy ever tells you he loved you happened after his trek through the desert. He had come back, sunburnt to hell and dehydrated out of his mind. Looking like he had just dragged a few bags of bricks from hell and back—which wasn't far off from the truth. So when you picked him up, fingers anxiously tapping on your steering wheel, it was the most he could do to reassure you with a slight squeeze of your hand.

Only once you had gotten back home and lowered him into a cool bath did Jimmy close his eyes, letting a small 'I Love You' slip from his chapped lips. Which were swiftly rewarded with a kick kiss, the first genuine smile breaking out on his face in days.

—KIM ☆

You said it to her first.

Kim has a difficult time reading people and their emotions outside of her workplace, something that bled into your relationship together. Of course, you understood, taking your time with her and getting comfortable as a pair. That's why it took so long for you to say anything to her that would take your relationship to the next level.

It most likely occurred on some random movie night. The both of you in sweatpants sitting on the couch watching a black and white movie, curled around each other and just forgetting about life's worries. She took a moment to pause the movie, facing you and your caring gaze. Kim captured your lips in a soft kiss after a moment, washing away any worries that might have been lingering at her delayed response.

—HOWARD ☆

HMM had the privilege of being the place where Howard first confessed the true depth of his love for you.

He hardly could sit still. It was the third boring meeting of the day, discussing something he couldn't care less about when you were sitting next to him. It was all he could do to contain his giddy feelings, occasionally nudging your foot foot under the table with a barely contained smile. So the minute after everyone had slowly trickled out of the conference room, he caught the tail end of your suits cuff, pulling you into a heart melting kiss, both of your teeth occasionally clicking together on accident.

"You know what?" He mummbled against your lips, his own buzzing with electricity. "I think I love you."

"I think I love you too Howie."

—NACHO ☆

Part of the reason Nacho was so invested in you was the feeling he got when catching a glimpse of you. It was one he didn't feel often anymore; after getting involved with the drug ring and such. One of security. Warmth. Being home. The only other person who ever made him feel like that was his dad. And things hadn't been going to well in that department lately.

Nacho was quiet around you. Not the same stony kind of silence he presented in his pine of work. That was pure defensiveness, not letting anyone see into his head unless he wanted them too. No, around you he was quiet becuase he preferred to hear your voice. To listen to you talk to him about your day and carry on a conversation just by looking at him for a non verbal response. He loved how you knew what he was trying to say without actually saying it.

"I love you (Y/n)." He had mummbled into your hair one evening—between your tales of horrid days working in customer service. "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone."

—LALO ☆

Light had barely begun to peak through the curtains, and Lalo was already rolling out of bed with a sigh. Pulling away from your warm embrace, yet another night without sleep plauging his mind with things he had to do today.

"Sorry querido." He would chuckle, slipping into more formal clothing as you quietly called for him to come back to bed. "You know I have to go tend to some things."

His smile softened even more as you rolled over in his direction, eyes still closed and scrunched with drowsy annoyance. Accompanied by a small frown.

"Fine. Bu' be quick. L've you."

Lalo paused, a patterned shirt draped over his bare shoulder in the moment. You would later remember the dozens of kisses he peppered across your face in a moment of adoration, mirroring your accusation of love in between each one.

"Por dios serás mi muerte."

#jimmy mcgill x reader #jimmy mcgill #kim wexler #kim wexler x reader #howard hamlin #howard hamlin x reader #nacho varga #nacho varga x reader #lalo salamanca #lalo salamanca x reader #better call saul #better call saul x reader

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ask-ursa-tonypeter · 12 days

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Oh man, okay so that Peter snatching ask, I feel like I neeeed more of that. How would Tony even explain Pyrite!Peter’s new situation to him? Would he even tell Pyrite Peter about DB!Peter? Aksdkfniend I don’t know if you want to go more into detail about this because it’s technically not a fic of yours so feel free to ignore this ask if this isn’t the direction you want to go with these, I’m just infinitely curious about the scenario written in that ask and figured it didn’t hurt to shoot my shot here, so to speak.

[[in reference to this ask and then this ask-- not only did it not hurt to shoot your shot, I wrote a whole-ass fic about it, lmao. CWs for abduction/long-term captivity, gentle noncon and general very 💖loving and tender💖 emotional abuse, and all of the psychological trauma that goes with it-- but there's a hopeful ending! (Also, daddykink, which I can apparently only tolerate if one of the characters in question hates it, lmao.)]]

This older Tony told him that he was picked because he's special, but Peter isn't stupid. In the brief glimpse he was allowed to see of the other Peters out there on that monitor, he noticed that most of them were older. Stronger. Actually special.

And he sees the way that this Tony looks at him. Peter wouldn't have noticed it before, probably, but it was the same expression that his brother wore when they were… together. Dark, heated, focused. Peter had loved the attention from his brother, but it scares him from this man. He's constantly on edge, waiting for the moment that petting hands or a tender kiss might slip somewhere unbearable, like being prepared will somehow give him a way to stop it.

He knows it won't, of course. He knows he can't.

He can't stop anything.

This Tony wants Peter to call him 'Dad.' Peter tries to protest, tries to say that he already has a dad, that it's strange when his own Tony is his brother instead. But Tony insists– says that he'll be a better father to Peter than Howard Stark ever was, that Peter doesn't need a brother when he has a father like Tony instead, that his brother was never any good to him anyway.

It makes Peter regret every single time he's ever complained about his dad and every single time he ever felt ignored by his brother, and he tells Tony that, that he loves his family even if they're not perfect and he misses his mom and that he wants to go home.

But this Tony doesn't care about his tears, and Peter is afraid of him, so Tony gets his way.

That's always how it goes. Peter cries, he begs, he asks to go home. When he's at his most desperate and selfish and awful, he asks for Tony to take someone else instead. And Tony holds him and pets him and coos and hums and murmurs that everything will be okay, and he just needs time to adjust, and that he's perfect. That Tony could never let him go.

Peter knows that he means it, and Tony never seems to realize that it only makes him cry harder. But in the end Peter always ends up leaning heavily into his arms, sniffling and exhausted and cried-out, so maybe it's his fault for sending mixed messages.

He does try to make the best of it, after all. He knows it makes him a coward, and that he should fight and scream and try to make this Tony's life hell until he does give Peter up, like rehoming a bad dog. But he can't, because he's not brave, so instead he sets the table and makes suggestions for dinner and smiles at Tony's jokes and picks out movies to watch from under the arm of this man who is not his father and not his brother but who he still calls 'Dad.'

"Good choice, baby," Tony says with a smile when Peter picks out Die Hard for movie night, and Peter hates the warm, pathetic glow of satisfaction that swells in his chest at the praise. But it's better than being scared, so Peter will take it, even if it makes him feel just as cheap and slimy as the actual sex.

It doesn't take long for that to start, though it's longer than Peter expects. A few weeks, maybe, though Peter's sense of time isn't great anymore. Tony had already slipped into his bed even as early as that first night, with the excuse of comforting Peter while he cried– "oh, sweetheart, don't cry, you'll be okay," he'd crooned, pressing kisses to Peter's hair while he flinched, "you'll love it here, you'll see,"– but then he never stopped, even once Peter stopped crying himself to sleep.

So one morning it happens, inevitable. Tony's wrist brushes too low when he's untangling himself from Peter as they wake, and Peter can't bite back his gasp at the pressure against his morning wood, and before he knows it there's a hand around him and lips against his neck and a warm, morning-rough voice muttering, "Let me take care of that for you, sweetheart."

Peter tries to stop it. He does. He does.

But when he gasps, "Dad, wait, please stop," Tony only murmurs, "Shh, relax, honey," and in the end it's like everything else.

Tony is always gentle with him. It's a strange contrast to his brother, who called him filthy things and teased him until he was so red he thought he might pass out and could be rough with him when Peter asked for it. Peter liked that, yeah, but he had always wished that his brother would kiss him sweetly and tell him he loved him, too.

It's disorienting to have those daydreams come to life in the form of this other, twisted version of his brother. Peter tries to close his eyes as Tony moves inside him and take what comfort he can in the soft touches and endless praise, and sometimes it works, and sometimes it puts a pit in his stomach to think he ever wanted this from his brother at all.

Even outside of bed, it messes with Peter's head the way that Tony's so nice. It makes it too easy to sink into the lie sometimes, when he's allowed to wander the familiar penthouse suite of Stark Tower instead of being locked in some basement, when Tony remembers all of his favorite treats and movies, when Tony spoils him rotten and tells him he's perfect and never, ever loses his patience.

(Even when Peter does. Even when Peter has one of his embarrassing episodes where he loses his mind and beats his fists against Tony's chest and scratches and bites until he tastes blood, Tony just holds him and sighs "I know, baby, I know," until Peter is spent. He never even raises his voice.

But he does cry sometimes. It makes Peter feel guilty, and then mad at himself for feeling guilty, and then he gets so confused that he just lets Tony bundle him away for a nap like he really is a tantruming five-year-old. Every time he wakes up he's mortified, but Tony never scolds him like he deserves. He's just sweet and gentle and forgiving, and he lets Peter sink right back into the comfort of the lie.)

Peter wonders if Tony was kind to the other Peter. He resents him sometimes, even though he knows it's not fair. It's not the other Peter's fault that he died, or that his dad is… like this. It's not the other Peter's fault that Tony picked Peter out of all the options. But even still, sometimes he thinks 'if you were still here, then I wouldn't be,' and there's some satisfaction in having someone to blame who he doesn't have to share a bed with.

But mostly– mostly he wonders about the other Peter's life. Sometimes Tony will cling to him and apologize over and over again like he can't hear Peter at all, and Peter wonders if he was mean to the other Peter while he was alive, or if he was sleeping with his actual son, too, or if he blames himself somehow for the way that he died. JARVIS won't tell him what happened, and he's too afraid to ask Tony.

But it wasn't a secret, he knows. Even if he can't find any mention of the original Peter Stark's death online, other people have to know about it, because none of Tony's employees can stand to look at him.

He wonders what they know. Do they think he's some kind of Frankenstein's monster? Do they know he's been kidnapped? Do they think he's just an uncanny lookalike, or do they know about the machine in Tony's personal lab?

(Or do they just know exactly how close their boss is to his son, Peter thinks sometimes, and it makes him want to never come out of his room.)

Or maybe they're just afraid that if they look, Tony will see something on their faces that he doesn't like, because–

He may always be gentle with Peter, but Tony is not a kind man.

He still rarely raises his voice. When he's angry with someone, his voice goes flat and ice-cold and the room gets so quiet it feels like even breathing would be too loud.

He always sends Peter out of the room before he kills someone. It's the only time anyone will look at him, their eyes wild and pleading for Peter to stay like that would save them, but by then it's Peter who can't bear to look.

Peter hates himself for the way that he shakes for hours afterward instead of doing something. He hates himself for the way that he crawls into Tony's lap once they get home, the way he tips his face up for a kiss, all so he can hear Tony say–

"I'm sorry, baby." Rough stubble prickling at Peter's temple, his cheek, his chin. "You know I would never hurt you, don't you? Never."

"I know," Peter whispers, and by the time they're done and Tony has made him come at least twice and told him again and again that he loves him, that he's perfect, that he's the only thing that matters, it will almost feel true.

(Peter thinks about the other Peters on that monitor, and how so many of them were strong and brave and stood up to people just like Tony, and he wonders how the other Peter died.)

He does save someone though, he thinks. Just once. He can't know for sure, because it's not one of the men that regularly comes to meet Tony at the tower, but he thinks maybe he helped.

The man is making excuses. He's in charge of one of Tony's projects, and he says that Tony gave him permission to take time off to take care of his mother after a surgery, and that's why the project is behind schedule. Tony doesn't remember and doesn't care and he gets angrier with every word out of the man's mouth, and eventually he stands, those silver tendrils exploding out of his suit to grapple the man down over his desk while he wails and pleads.

Tony takes a breath, and Peter knows he's going to tell Peter to leave the room, and he abruptly can't stand it.

"Daddy, don't," he says, the babyish word coming out in his desperate horror without him meaning to say it, and he hugs Tony around the waist like that means anything, like he can stop anything, like he's a version of himself that's actually strong.

Tony freezes, and for the length of what feels like a hundred rabbiting heartbeats Peter is terrified. He's never stood up to Tony in front of his men. He's barely stood up to him at all, and it never leads to anything anyway, and he suddenly doesn't know why he stuck himself out for this stranger who Tony is probably just going to kill anyway but this man has a family and Peter misses his mom so much he can barely breathe and he can't keep doing nothing he can't he can't he can't–

Tony turns gently in his grip, because Peter can't stop him, and Peter keeps his face buried against Tony's shoulder. He can still hear the sound of the man whimpering quietly from where he's pinned to the desk by Tony's tendrils, and he flinches when the weight of Tony's hand settles on his hair, gentle.

"Oh, sweetheart," Tony breathes, his voice strange– revelatory, tender, almost delighted. "Did Daddy scare you?"

The room is quiet. Peter is painfully aware of every other person listening– the guards by the door, the man on the desk, gasping in shaky breaths now instead of whimpering.

He can feel the weight of something important shifting, shifting, shifting when he nods his head, and the finality of something new settling into place when Tony wraps his arms around him.

"Get out," Tony says over his shoulder, and there's a clatter of noise as the man scrambles to the door. Tony adds, "You too," to the guards, and when the door clicks closed they're alone.

Peter shudders in Tony's arms, his body not able to reconcile the combination of relief and deep, primal fear coursing through his veins, and Tony clicks his tongue, pressing a kiss to the top of Peter's head.

"You really don't like coming to work with me, do you," he sighs, rubbing Peter's back. "I'm sorry, baby. You told me that, and I didn't listen."

He reaches to cup both sides of Peter's face, so Peter finally has to look up at him. He looks perfectly sweet, warm and fond and apologetic, and the contrast from his anger moments earlier is dizzying.

Tony strokes his thumbs tenderly over Peter's cheeks, and sighs one more time before he says, "All right, sweetie. If you promise that you'll be good, I'll let you stay in your room while I'm gone, okay? If that's really what you want."

It's so unexpected that it takes Peter a moment to understand that this is a compromise. Tony has never offered one before, and Peter had learned to stop asking a long time ago.

He rushes to gasp, "Yes– yes, please," and then, spontaneous and uncertain and thinking, adds, "Thank you, Daddy."

Tony smiles, and the chill it sends through Peter is anticipation just as much as disgust. Tony takes him upstairs to the penthouse then, and takes the entire rest of the day off work to make up for scaring him. It's almost nice, really, and if Peter doesn't like it when Tony tells him 'Daddy's got you' and 'that's right, let Daddy take care of you' in bed, it's still worth it, because–

The next day Peter gets to have four whole hours to himself until lunchtime, and then another four whole hours after that, and he can't remember the last time he didn't spend the whole day with Tony.

Things change after that.

Before, any protests Peter made would get shushed and brushed aside, Tony always gentle but never permissive. He would say that he knew best, that Peter would be okay, that Peter's way wouldn't work, and he would go on like Peter hadn't said anything at all. Requests were usually easier, Tony happy to bury Peter in gifts, but as for experiences– Tony's sense of what was too risky for Peter was broad and paranoid and stifling, and now–

It's shocking having a way to get Tony to listen to him, and Peter tries not to let it go to his head. He's careful. He doesn't ask for too much. He sprinkles in petty requests to throw off the scent of when he really, really wants something so it can't be used against him.

He acts like he really is all those dirty things his brother used to call him, and he bats his eyelashes and pouts and fawns, and he says "Daddy, please?" and "Can I, Daddy?" and "Daddy, I don't want to," and he gets what he wants.

But he knows just that won't be enough for what he really wants. Not by itself. He can't just stick out his bottom lip and simper his way into where he wants to go, so he'll need to add something else.

And Peter will give Tony this: for all that his obsession with his "son" is twisted and wrong, he really does seem to care more about making Peter come than himself. He always takes Peter in his mouth like it's a treat, but the first time Peter slides to his knees in front of him, he looks so shocked that it honestly seems like he hasn't even thought about it before.

"Petey," he says, ghosting his fingers over Peter's hair while Peter draws him out of his pants. "You don't have to do that if you don't want to, sweetie."

Peter knows it's part of why Tony is so sweet to him, but it irritates him sometimes when Tony acts like he actually buys the whole innocent lamb act, like he doesn't fuck Peter at least twice a day himself. Tony knows about Peter's brother, he knows Peter's done this before; Peter's even pretty sure it's part of why Tony picked him.

Peter takes a breath and pushes it all down, down, down, and he reaches for the part of himself that means it when he says, "I want to, Daddy."

He leans in, and if it's more bitter than he remembers– well, the aftermath is what's sweet.

It's hard to keep the request behind his teeth while Tony fawns over him after, showering him in kisses and praise and making him come so many times that Peter finally has to protest, "Daddy, no more," sluggish and sensitive and overheated.

But he wants Tony to think it's his idea, so he waits until finally, finally–

Tony chuckles and nuzzles in to kiss Peter's cheek, and he murmurs, "Okay, okay, baby. I just want to make you feel good after you were so good to me. What else can I do for you, hmm?"

Peter bites his lip and looks away, and it's not all playing shy. He's nervous, and he's really not sure how Tony is going to react, and if Tony squashes his hopes here– he can't think about that.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tony croons, pushing back Peter's sweaty curls and kissing his forehead. "You can tell me, Petey; I know you've got something in mind."

"Can I–" Peter hesitates, and he'd like to say he's playing it up, but the way his eyes go wide and desperate and shiny is all real. "Daddy, can I… can I please see the monitor again? Please? I want… I want to see Grandma."

He doesn't know if it's a step too far and too false to call her that. Maria Stark would be his grandmother if he was actually Tony's son, and he's trying to– give a show of good faith, that even if he's still thinking about his real family he's accepted the false reality that Tony's made for them. His heart hammers in his chest while he waits to find out, and–

Tony sucks in a breath, staring at Peter in shock for the second time that night, but this time his expression resolves into regret and apology.

"Honey," he says softly, and Peter wants to scream, "I don't know if that would be the best thing for you. I think it'll make you sad, sweetheart."

No, Peter wants to say, but contradicting Tony will just make him dig in his heels, so instead he says, "I-I know, I know it will, but that's okay. It'll make me happy, too. Like getting older, right?"

He throws it in, a last-minute ad-lib; Tony jokes all the time about how sad it makes him to see Peter get older even though he's glad that Peter's growing up so sweet. It's a hit– Tony smiles, rueful, and Peter presses his advantage. He links his arms behind Tony's neck, cuddling close, all entirely-real doe eyes and quivering lips when he asks, "Daddy, please let me. Please?"

Tony sighs, and he leans in to scatter kisses over Peter's face when he murmurs, "You're getting too sweet for me, baby. All right, if you're sure that's what you want."

Peter's heart soars, and when he pulls Tony into a kiss he doesn't even have to fake enjoying it.

They go the next day. Tony is still reluctant about it, but he doesn't try to back out, and so they make their way to his private lab after breakfast.

It hits Peter harder than he expected. He knew it would make him sad, but he was imagining his mother bright and vibrant and happy. He barely recognizes the haggard woman on the screen, grayer than he left her and exhausted with grief, and it makes him cry so hard he can barely breathe.

"I told you, sweetheart," Tony sighs, rubbing Peter's back and stroking his hair, but he doesn't try to rush him out of the room early. "This is too hard for you, baby."

"I'm okay," Peter forces out between tears, because he can't lose access to this. "I w-wanted this. I'm s-so happy to see her. Thank you, Daddy."

It's going to be hard to play at being cheerful the rest of the day, he knows, but he'll have to if he wants Tony to ever let him come back to this room. Because even despite his tears, he did get what he was actually after: he watched how Tony selected a universe from the massive, awe-inspiring constellation of choices, and he memorized the coordinates that Tony punched in to pull up his true home.

And if he's ever going to get an opportunity to use them, he needs to get back in that room.

He makes it work. He's extra-sweet all day long, enough to curb Tony's concerns about the effect of their field trip on his mood, and he keeps it up after that. He pulls Tony into kisses and buttons his shirts for him in the morning. He pushes Tony back to ride him after work, their hands clasped together between them. He gets on his knees, he wakes Tony in the morning with a warm hand or slick mouth, he waits for Tony at lunchtime wearing one of his dress shirts and nothing else.

He's afraid at first that Tony might be put off by his new boldness, or at least suspicious, but Tony swallows the bait whole. He seems delighted that Peter is finally settling into his new life, eager to believe that Peter really has just grown more comfortable and mature in their relationship over time, and he even starts to trust Peter more. It's not even something that Peter asks for, but a week or two into his change of attitude, Tony gives him permission to access the rest of the suite while Tony's at work.

And that's not Peter's goal, but it does have some potential.

He does get to go back to the private lab. Peter doesn't ask for it every time, or even every other time, but Tony doesn't even hesitate to say yes, now. Peter plays up his excitement of the idea of the multiverse and of Tony's genius for making the machine; he plays up his interest in the other Peters; he checks in on his family.

And he watches the way Tony uses the monitor. He examines the construction of the machine. He pays attention to what features Tony uses when he navigates the 'verse map, and more than that, he pays attention to what features Tony avoids ever using in front of him.

He figures out slowly that his first plan won't work. As far as he can glean, the machine isn't built to have a way to send people back, and he knows he's not smart enough to figure out how to build that feature. He's smart, but even though the year on the calendar isn't even a full two decades ahead of Peter's actual universe, the technology may as well be a century more advanced– if the machine can only pull people to this universe, he isn't going to fool himself that he can change that by himself.

But still, every time he's in that room, he watches, and he thinks. He watches how Tony grows less attentive to his every move, more complacent in the idea that Peter is happy with their life. He watches how every day Tony gets closer to giving him permission to go to the lab by himself– it's not like he can use the machine to leave, after all. He watches how JARVIS sometimes lets him get away with things for a beat longer than he should, if Peter can make it look enough like an accident.

And he still watches the other Peters on the monitor. The ones that are older. The ones that are geniuses. The ones that save their cities from men like Tony. The ones that save the world.

Peter's not strong. He's not brave. He's not special.

He can't stop anything.

But he thinks he knows who can.

#fic: double blind #fic: pyrite #pyrite: peter #double blind: tony #prompt: multiverse #multiverse: kidnapping au #fic response #ursa interlude:#this is quite possibly the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written #we are truly getting to CLAMP levels of masturbatory multiverse drama here but I love it #ANYWAY. UM. ENJOY?!

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villa-kulla · 2 years

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thinking about that one Breaking Bad era Jonathan Banks interview where he said he sees Mike as “someone who lost his soul a long time ago.” And I feel like that’s what we just saw in 6x09...everything he did was just so heavy. His final glances at the photos of Howard before burning them, his face when Gus told him to restart work on the superlab...it’s almost like he’s seeing his life and choices from a distance and is disgusted with them. He tried to cling to his soul one more time and do the right thing by telling Nacho’s father the truth, but at the same time he knows Nacho’s dad was right about justice and revenge and people like him. When he looks at Nacho’s dad he thinks he’s looking into a mirror at another grieving father like him, a kindred spirit who’ll be comforted by justice. But it’s not a mirror, they’re separated by a fence Mike won’t ever climb over because Nacho’s dad is a better man than him, no matter how much morality Mike has over the rest of the cartel. When Nacho’s dad tells Mike “You gangsters and your ‘justice’. You’re all the same.” Mike knows in his heart he’s right. Mike in Breaking Bad goes about his work with a businesslike detachment from what he’s doing (with the obvious exception of Drew Sharpe but that’s understandable), telling Walt “Yeah well, I enjoy it”. We’re looking at someone who’s calloused over and who has to cling to that mantra if he’s going to do his work without it affecting him. And I feel like 6x09 was the last instance of us seeing it truly affect Mike. When he watches Nacho’s dad leave it’s like he’s watching the kind of person he should have been walk away for good. So yes, in this episode we see Jimmy lock up his soul to fully become Saul Goodman, but we also saw Mike’s soul crumble too, both becoming the people we’ll meet again years later. Jonathan Banks always maintained Mike lost his soul somewhere before Breaking Bad, and I feel like we just saw when.

#better call saul #bcs spoilers #mike ehrmantraut #jonathan banks #can't deal #i just CAN'T DEAL

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knockyasocksoff2022 · 4 months

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The Cask of Manhasset {RANPOE}

When his Dad gets a teaching job at an American University, Ranpo must move with them to the American state of Connecticut. Once there he starts his Junior year of high school at Manhasset Maor Academy, which is also attended by the children of the elite Fitzgerald Family. Four of them are Juniors just like he is, four are Seniors, and the youngest Lucy is a Sophomore.

Lucy is wild and social and eager to make friends with the new student, but Ranpo is more curious about her introverted older brother.

After a failed introduction, Ranpo becomes even more curious to find out all he can about Edgar, determined, if not to befriend him, then to beat him out for top rank in the next exams. But what will happen when he turns up something far more disturbing than just gory mystery novels and a strange obsession with Racoons?

~ CAST ~

RANPO (17) (has come to finish his junior and senior high school in America after his father gets a job at a university)

ELISE (8) (in 3rd grade)

KYUSAKU (13) (in 7th grade and a little crazy but that's okay)

YUKICHI (45) (got a job teaching at a university in Connecticut)

OUGAI (40) (is a surgeon)

The Fitzgerald Coven

Seniors

LOUISA (19) (older than Poe but just as shy, they have tea and cookies together when it’s too sunny to go to school, he confides in her first about his feelings for Ranpo and she promises not to tell, she keeps her word. Was turned many decades ago by Francis to be his secretary.)

HOWARD (18) (tired)

MARGARET (19) (loves Southern Belle fashion, reading and writing, neutral to Poe, but secretly finds him endearing, only telling this to Nathaniel. She worries about what his relationship w/ Ranpo may bring)

NATHANIEL (18) (loves god and Margaret. The two joined the Fitzgerald Coven as a couple)

Juniors -

Lucy & Edgar had been doing homeschool during their first year as vampires but Francis and Zelda wanted them to have the full High School Experience so he enrolled them at Manhasset Manor Academy. The older coven members agreed to join as well just to keep an eye on Edgar and Lucy and make sure they stay out of trouble.

EDGAR (19) (Was taken in by Francis six years ago after his parents were killed when someone attempted to rob the Poe family home. Edgar's father owned a lucrative publishing business and his mother was a semi-famous interior decorator. Fitzgerald bought both businesses and the home. Since Edgar had no other living relatives, he went to live with Francis and Zelda, who raised him like their own. He was turned two years ago and has been living with him since, he is quiet and shy, loves poetry, and books, and doesn't talk to anyone . . . until Ranpo)

JOHN (17) (He asked to be turned so he could be stronger and provide for his family and their farm after several bad harvests, he wanted to see the world and after his family members all passed of old age he came to live with the Fitzgerald coven.)

MARK (17) (always down for anything, he found the coven by accident. He’s totally chill with Ranpo, maybe a little intimidated by his IQ but still welcomes him into the family.)

LUCY(16) (Was turned by Fitzgerald only one year ago, but she's been living with them for 9 years, ever since Francis rescued her from an abusive orphanage when she was 8. She is wild and is kind of annoyed at Poe's shyness and they fight a lot but still loves him a lot, she's a sophomore at Manhasset Manor Academy)

Parents/Coven leaders

FRANCIS (32) (loves his adopted children, and turned them because he wants his daughter back) (he donated the school library which is called The Zelda and Francis Fitzgerald Library.

ZELDA (32) (was and kind of still is, depressed because of the loss of her and Francis' daughter but got better after getting to raise Edgar and Lucy, she just wants to see them happy)

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #ranpoe fanfic #bsd ranpoe #ranpoe #bsd twilight saga au #The Cask of Manhasset #bsd twilight au

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trivialbob · 9 months

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Today my brother, sister, dad, other relatives, and I went out to my other sister's house to meet the newest addition to the family. On the top left is Hazel, a Bernese Mountain Dog. Next to her is Howard, a big Rottweiler.

The two dogs play together very nicely, notwithstanding an 80 pound weight difference. Berners are, in my opinion, the happiest dogs I ever see at dog parks and breweries. Hazel shows no indication of being any different.

Hazel barked only one time while we were all there. Neither dog begged for food while the people ate lunch. My dogs, on the other hand, had they been there would have barked a lot as each person or couple arrived at the house, then circled the lunch table like sharks around a sinking ship.

One of my nephews brought his 1960s Ruger 10/22 along so he could sight in the scope. (There's a place at the farm where we can shoot.) He got the rifle from his other grandfather. That Ruger and I are about the same age. I have to say it's probably aged better than I have.

#There was a fairly petite relative at lunch with us #She weighs the same as Howard

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sayahs-corner · 9 months

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You Live Like This?

Rating: E

Pairing: STONY

Summary:

Mob-AU in which Steve Rogers in the head of the organized crime ring known as the Avengers. They rule New York with an iron fist and a take-no-prisoners attitude. Howard Stark has been getting in his way, bungling his deals, and selling SI weapons on the black market to the Avenger's enemies. Not to mention he is actively helping the police track down and capture his people. Steve can't let that stand. What better way to get back at man then to capture his only son? Tony is out of the frying pan and into the fire. Living under an alias in a rundown apartment in Brooklyn, it's been a little over a month since he escaped out from beneath the press of his father's thumb. Disowned for the crime of being gay, Tony has been flying under the radar and trying to keep a low profile. That is, until he is captured by his father's enemies. They want their money back, and someone is going to pay. Tony knows it won't be Howard.

Tags/Warnings: Rape/Non-con Elements, Mob Boss Steve Rogers, Twink Tony Stark, Angst, Whump, Beating, Non-Consensual Bondage, Blackmail, Humiliation, Face-Fucking, Enemies to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Homophobia

@stonyauniverse

Chapter 1: Chapter One

Chapter Text

Tony stood in the doorway to his new apartment, tired whiskey eyes drinking in the sight of the amber afternoon light streaming in through the windows and dancing across the well worn parquet floors. It cast dancing shadows against the white, pock-marked, walls and across the freshly painted white kitchen cabinets. It was a studio apartment, small by most standards - Tony was actually sure one of his old closets had been bigger than this place - but it was solely his. Or, rather, it was Anton Valentino’s apartment. His new and improved alias. He shifted the small box on his hip with one hand, fingertips indenting the warped cardboard, while the other hand curled protectively around a small and rather sad looking potted fern whom Tony had named Geoff. It looked like Geoff had definitely seen better days, but then to be fair, so had Tony.

The last couple of weeks had been nothing but a series of rather unfortunate events, starting with his father catching him in flagrante delicto with Chuck, the pool boy. Well, considering that Chuck was actually thirty six to Tony’s mere twenty two, he supposed it was safe to say that his father had caught him fucking the pool man. And if he wanted to go a step further he’d suppose that, technically, he had gotten caught getting fucked by the pool man. Semantics. What could he say? He had some pretty severe Daddy issues that he was doing his damndest to work through. With sex.

Sex with older men.

Okay, so he wasn't doing jack-all to work through any perceived traumas. Daddy or otherwise. Old, young, it didn't matter. Tony just liked men.

Which, you know, was kind of a major faux pas in the Stark household. He had been able to see the vein in his father’s forehead pulsing clearly enough that he was able to gauge the old man’s heart rate. So when dear-old-dad had exploded in a fit of rage, Tony had not been surprised. His tongue darted out to wet his still sore lower lip from the backhand that had sent him sprawling to the floor. Howard had stood there, murder in his eyes, and called him all sorts of homophobic slurs before disowning his only child.

Tony rolled his eyes. How trite. Being disowned over his choice of bedpartners? Gag.

How pedestrian.

Someone call the 90’s and tell them they’re missing their textbook homophobic father-figure. The old man had even dragged out the whole “No son of mine” speech before throwing his ass out of the house with nothing but the clothes on his back.

As a teenager, and then later as a young adult, Tony had run the gamut of rebellious behavior aimed toward getting Howard to do just that. With all the underage drinking, drugs, and generalized assholery, Tony had not once ever considered that it would be his sexuality that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

He wasn’t complaining.

Not by a long shot.

His mother’s death ten years ago had changed his father irrevocably, turned him into some sort of control freak. Only, this particular control freak was in charge of a multi-million dollar company with endless power and money at his fingertips. Especially when he was using Tony’s original designs and formulas to turn more of a profit. Tony had been working, under the table, for his father since the time he was knee high. There weren't many pies at Stark Industries that Tony had not dipped his finger into at one point or another. Howard had been fine with that once, encouraged it even, as one day the company would fall to Tony. The heir. The golden goose who just kept laying. So Tony’s every minute of every day had been micromanaged to the nth degree.

If he had known that all it would take for his father to loosen the leash he had wrapped around Tony’s neck like a noose was to be caught in the act of sexual congress with another man then…

Well…

It didn't matter. Tony shook the thought away, lips compressing into a thin line before he stepped fully into his new home. He pinched off that spark of hurt, ground it out, refused to feel it or acknowledge it. He had a new lease on life, a chance to actually do what he wanted, to prove that he didn't need dear-old-dad or his wealth to make it in this world. How many nights had he sat up, staring at his vaulted ceiling, and dreamed of having the opportunity to do just that?

He was going to win, prove them all wrong. He didn't need his father’s name, or his vast wealth, to make it in this world on his own. He was freakishly smart, with a photographic memory and an eye for detail. His ideas were good ones, no matter what Howard said to the contrary. He was so sick of people telling him who and what he could be. Telling him his worth.

For the first time in his life he was going to be allowed to determine that on his own. He was excited at the prospect. He knew his father thought that Tony would come back eventually, tail tucked between his legs, begging for his chance to be welcomed back into the family fold.

That was never, ever, going to happen. There was no forcing the rainbow colored skeleton back into the proverbial closet. Tony wasn't going to give up who he was to pander to his father. He was done with all of that, and free for the very first time in his entire life.

Sort of.

Certified genius that he was, Tony was going to have to pump the brakes on the whole tech-savant thing. He knew that once his father calmed down he was going to realize just how much Stark Industries depended on Tony. He was, afterall, most of the R&D department. Once that happened it was going to be a matter of time before the old man started to keep tabs on him. Tried to manage him again. The last thing he needed to do was start making waves.

Hell, it had only been three days after Howard had kicked him out that Jarvis had pinged him, letting him know that the old man was looking for him - not with any real urgency, not yet. But the old man was putting feelers out there to see what cropped up. Jarvis was his new personal AI, named after the family butler who was more a father figure to him than his actual father, and although it was still a work in progress, he was far more advanced than any other AI that Stark Industries had to offer. Or anyone else, for that matter.

It was a matter of a few swift keystrokes to send his father looking westward, toward California to be exact. With the help of his AI he was able to plant a trail of false breadcrumbs, pointing Howard’s security team toward the opposite side of the country. If they ever did go looking for him, it would take weeks before they figured out that Tony wasn't where he was supposed to be.

No, he was right under his father’s nose. He had never left New York, and he had no plans to either. It was the last place Howard would come looking for him. Most people would run, if given the chance, to try to put as much distance between themselves and Howard Stark’s empire. Tony wasn't so naive. He knew exactly just how far his father’s reach extended and Oceans apart wouldn't be far enough to escape that megalomaniac’s grasp. No, it was better to hide where he’d least expect it.

Instead he had taken on an alias, Anton Valentino, and over the past couple of weeks had managed to beg barter and steal enough cash to get him a deposit on the cheapest apartment he could find. It hadn’t been easy. He already had an interview lined up at the cafe three blocks over. His plan, for now, was to keep his head low and just… live his life.

Talk to strangers. Make mistakes. Have fun. Maybe, hopefully, make some friends.

He was finally going to get to live life on his own terms. He couldn't wait.

Nudging the door closed with his foot, Tony took a deep breath before a broad, unadulterated, smile broke out across his face.

This…this was going to be great.

________________________________

One Month Later…

This fucking sucked.

Tony fought off another jaw cracking yawn, his hands automatically going through the motions of wiping down the front counter of Bea’s Beanz. It was nearing eight o’clock at night, and Tony had arrived bright eyed and bushy tailed at about five am that morning to help open. The closer had never showed up, leaving Tony to pick up the slack. Again. Taylor was officially on his shit list. No sob story was going to cut it this time. Tony had barely been there for a month and he’d already had to cover for Taylor at least three times this week alone. Not that he couldn't use the extra hours, if he was being honest. Making a living in New York was exhausting when his options were so limited. The first week he had sold plasma twice so that he could actually afford to feed himself. Right now his diet consisted of ramen noodles, rice and beans, and free espresso which was miles away from the caviar and steak dinners he was used to.

But he liked his new job. Loved the smell of fresh ground beans, the scent of espresso wafting in the air. He liked that he was busy, that it was one face after the other, all perfectly unique in their own way. He liked making small talk, getting to know the people in his neighborhood, and making his customer’s laugh and blush. Especially the old ladies. Tony was a hopeless flirt, a natural born charmer, and often used that to his advantage. Even Bert, the owner, had mentioned that the tip cup seemed to fill up faster when Tony was working the register.

Working with Bert was great. Tony got to manage the counter, flirt shamelessly, and make money while doing it. At the end of his shift he got to keep all the tips - Bert never took any. With anyone else he’d have to split those tips, and potentially lose face time with some of the hot college boys and blue collar workers that rolled through the cafe.

He even had a couple of dates set up for later this week. Not that he was actually interested in the sex. If he were being honest, Tony was just looking for a meal that wasn’t rice and beans or maruchan beef ramen. If that made him a bit of a user? Well, color him shamelessly guilty then. It was well worth it, in Tony’s opinion. And it wasn’t as if he was going to dine and dash. Tony was a great conversationalist. People enjoyed talking to him as much as they enjoyed his flirtatious banter. There was no way anyone was going to leave a date with him and say they had a terrible time.

Not possible.

Making people feel good made him feel good. And hey, it just so happened that he made a mean cup of coffee. It had not taken him very long at all to master the art of coffee making. He was, afterall, a genius with a photographic memory. His latte art was, admittedly, going to take some practice though.

All and all he seemed to be doing okay. Except, right now, there was nowhere he’d rather be than at home, slurping down some noodles and munching through the three day old pastries that had been slated to be thrown out. Working at a cafe did have its perks. Bert didn't mind if he took home the pastries, happy that at least someone would get to enjoy them.

His gaze flitted over to the clock on the far wall, watching the seconds tick by with a sort of agonizing slowness. He’d already wiped down the tables, swept the floors, cleaned the machines, and restocked for the opening shift. Tomorrow would be his first day off this week, and Tony was planning on spending the majority of it sleeping.

Being poor was exhausting .

He’d have to wake up at some point though, and get ready for his date with Craig, the very nice personal trainer that had asked him out on his first day at the cafe. Big bulky muscles, broad shoulders, and a receding hairline. They were going to meet at the pizza place about a twenty minute walk from Tony’s apartment. It was Craig’s second choice of restaurant, Tony had to veto the nicer Italian place Craig had wanted to go to originally. Too close to his old haunts, and too far to walk. Tony wasn't paying money to uber anywhere. If he couldn't get there by foot, he wasn't going. His lips quirked upward at the thought. He’d become a bit of a stingy penny pincher.

He really didn't have a choice in the matter, though.

He’d gotten an air mattress a few days ago which had sadly depleted most of his funds. It would be a long time before Tony forgot the way his hands had trembled a bit as he counted out the bills. A few months ago he wouldn't even have sneezed at that amount. But he had been able to stumble across a dented, slightly wobbly, folding chair out by the dumpster. He’d get around to fixing the wobble sooner or later, and he’d also been able to slap together a table using broken wood pallets.

Was it pretty? Not by a long shot. Did he have to eat his ramen sitting on the floor? Also, no.

The rest, like a real mattress and dresser, a couch and tv… that would all come in time. There was a second hand shop that he’d stumbled across a few blocks from here that looked promising. Next paycheck Tony would see if he could find something to make his home… more home-ish. Cuz right now? It was actually rather home-ly.

But it didn't matter. Because it was his. Soon he’d fill it with things that sparked his passion, that spoke to him. Books and projects, art and tchotchkes. He didn't exactly have a five year plan lined up right now, but he liked to imagine that he wouldn’t always be in the little flat in Brooklyn. That eventually he’d find his way out from beneath the firm press of his father’s thumb. He wondered what that freedom would look like. What he would do then, completely unfettered, able to pursue whatever dream struck his fancy. He knew whatever it was, it would change the world.

He was Tony Stark, after all.

He was startled out of his thoughts by the sharp chime of the door. His eyes flicked again to the clock on the far well. 7:58pm. Tony managed to stifle the sigh that wanted to escape him. It wasn't too long ago that he would have been the type of person to just waltz into an establishment that was mere minutes from closing. He wouldn't have thought anything of it. Just smile, charm, and flash his palladium credit card. Oh, he had always been generous, leaving big tips and big smiles, but for the first time in his life Tony was realizing that he had also been kind of an asshole too.

Perspective was crazy like that.

So he did what countless other service people had done for him over the years. He simply put on a bright smile that didn't quite meet his eyes and a chipper “Good evening gentlemen, what can I get started for you?”

The gentlemen in question did not seem impressed by his cheery customer service if the scowls that marred their faces was anything to go by. There were three of them, all kind of broad of shoulder and a little rangy, dressed mostly in black. Tony wondered if that was an accident, or if they had coordinated their outfits - like some sort of grumpy looking boy band. The thought brought a smirk to his face. One of them hung back by the door, arms crossed over his chest with an irritated look on his face, as if he would rather be anywhere than right here right now. Tony felt his pain.

The two men approaching his counter moved at a steady pace, their faces unsmiling. One was blonde, with short, spiky hair and bright blue eyes. The other had deep brown eyes, and close cropped jet black hair.

“Yeah, I’ll take a salted caramel Latte.” His friend turned to stare at him, rather pointedly, to which blondie simply shrugged.

“I need coffee. I was up all night last night.Judge not lest ye be judged.”

Tony shook his head, his hands already going through the motions of preparing the latte as he listened to the two of them bicker in furtive whispers.

“Can I get anything else started for you guys?”

“No.” Stocky, dark, and handsome spoke up - his voice colored with irritation. “That’s gonna be it.”

“Though, I wouldn't mind a blueberry danish - if you’ve got one left.”

Tony slid the latte across the counter, a smile twitching at his lips. “One blueberry danish, coming up. Looks like you got the last one.”

“Shit this is some real good coffee.”

“For fucks, sake, Clint. What is wrong with you - we have a job to do.”

It was as Tony was bending down in the display case to grab the last blueberry danish that he saw, through the frosted glass of the display case, that which he had missed earlier. He’d blame it on a lot of things. The first being that he was so goddamn tired his eyes were starting to cross. The second that it had been almost two months, and he’d been given no warning of people looking for him through Jarvis. He usually prided himself on his attention to detail, both large and small. He had definitely missed the mark here, though. Both of these guys were packing heat. And the angry one actually had his fingers wrapped around the gun, safety off. It was an SI weapon. One he had designed himself five years ago.

Fuck.

It was him. Tony was the job. Were these his father’s men? They didn't strike him as the type of goons dear old dad usually hired. They weren't starchy enough, for one, and certainly not professional by any stretch of the imagination.

It was a monumental effort to keep a smile on his face as he took the danish out of the case with one hand, and reached for the full carafe of decaf coffee he had brewed only an hour prior. As the two turned away from their bickering, Tony threw the carafe in an arc. He didn't stay to watch as that scalding hot coffee splattered both of them. Nor to see if the danish that he had thrown at the blonde met its target. He was already bolting toward the back room.

You Live Like This? - Chapter 1 - sayah1112 - Marvel [Archive of Our Own]

#stony #tony stark #steve rogers #AU mob #mob boss steve rogers #twink tony stark #stony fanfiction #r1stonyauniverse

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captain-hen · 10 months

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neethu! as a the rookie fan who is on the edge about watching 911 (mainly bc i am a scorned fan of old ryan murphy shows and have trust issues), i pledge for you to sell me on 911/buddie because i truly need a new summer binge watch that won’t suck my energy dry 🥲

omg becca i can promise you that i'll make it my personal mission to get you into 911 asfdkdld 😌 so, here's why you should absolutely binge 911, coming from a completely unbiased, objective perspective, of course 😌😌

an amazing ensemble cast with really, really talented actors

a group of characters who slowly come together to find their family in each other and they love each other so so much. also the very first episode starts off with the hilariously ironic line—"this is not a family." to really hammer in the famous last words of it all :) now let's get into the characters.

howard "chimney" han — amazing paramedic, manages to be the funniest character on the show while having deep-rooted abandonment issues and trauma, is probably immortal because he has survived things that should have killed any other person

bobby nash — Dad™. the daddest of all dads. best redemption arc ever; has a beautiful journey of realizing that he wants to live. he was born to be a husband and a father :) amateur detective. looks like the sensible one, but he can be just as dumb as the rest. he loves his wife <33

hen wilson — probably the smartest character on the show, and knows everything about everything. she's married to a rocket scientist :)) she is an incredible firefigher paramedic, best friends with chimney (they're platonic soulmates fr) and she looks like she holds the braincell but she will join in on the shenanigans with the rest of the characters in a heartbeat (see: season 6 where she went dumpster diving with chimney to look for a lost ring).

evan buckley — the little brother of the group. he's an ass in the beginning but he gets better i promise. himbo with a heart of gold, he loves kids. he uses recklessness as a means of coping with his deep-rooted childhood trauma. nearly dies every single season. he looks at bobby as a surrogate father. he loves his sister so much. he's in love with his best friend but shhh he's still figuring that out. he loves his best friend's child like his own :)

maddie buckley — give her a break™ she's been through SO much, but came out kind and compassionate and stronger than ever. she's a 911 dispatcher and she's amazing at it. she loves her little brother and basically raised him when they were kids. she's an amazing mom, even if it takes her a while to accept that, and she loves chimney han with all her heart.

athena grant — angela basset does an amazing job with her character; she has some of the best emotional and action moments on the show. she's a cop, unfortunately :( she's best friends with hen, she's a great mom to her two kids and has a really compelling friendship with her ex-husband. she is definitely the one who holds the braincell while everyone else gets up to their dumb shenanigans.

eddie diaz — the love of my life he's an ex-army medic, now a firefighter and above all, a father. he loves his son, christopher, so much. he has also nearly died on multiple occasions, and in season 5, has one of the most beautiful arcs i've ever seen working through his trauma. he had an extremely complex relationship with his wife, shannon. he's come so far in terms of character development. and he's deeply in love with his best friend but by god he will not admit it :)

and as for the other reasons why you should binge the show? the emergencies are absolutely insane and entertainingly unrealistic (there was a tsunami in los angeles). the show knows how to intermix comedy and tragedy in a way that will give you whiplash and have you sobbing. it deals with some very adult, realistic conflicts. it loves to emphasize on the innate goodness of human nature. none of the characters are perfect and have all fucked up badly at some point, but they keep trying. it's a show about second chances :)

OH and since you asked about buddie, well. if you like: a) co-workers who started off disliking each other falling into a deep friendship b) two characters who are partners in every sense of the word, who practically share the same mind c) a ship that has multiple break-up scenes without even getting together d) two characters who are practically co-parenting a child but can't see it e) two characters who go absolutely berserk when the other is in danger f) two characters who act more married than most married couples — then buddie is the ship for you! and honestly, if you like chenford, then you will definitely like buddie sjdkdkd there's a reason i've done at least 4-5 gifsets paralleling them

anyway, this is my official pitch! if you ever actually decide to watch the show, my humble request is that you let me know what you think afterwards 😌

come talk to me!

#this got a little out of hand ajsjjd #neethu answers #timlucys

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polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 10 months

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don't wait for tumblr to give u more tags. go off about tony and steve and zola pls i am humbly requesting

As a part of my ongoing war on my ask box this is a very old post regarding a tumblr tag essay i made forever ago. i half answered this ask when it came in and then forgot to finish. without further ado:

Anon is talking about this post about Steve and Tony’s relationship. I HIGHLY recommend the original post it's great but i copied the original tags essay below since it's been so long since the ask arrived.

#I feel like anyone who writes Tony stark for marvel should have to go watch bojack horseman first as like a mandatory assignment#because that show understood the premise of Tony stark better than any MCU writer ever has and it wasn’t even writing for tony stark#in sum bojack horseman follows the titular bojack who is a washed up 90s sitcom television star#bojack himself is extremely self destructive and the show follows him as his selfish and egotistical tendencies erode at his relationships#However bojack himself is an extremely sympathetic character. his harmful acts are all tied very directly to the trauma of his life#he’s a survivor of generational abuse whose own substance abuse problems stem from the fact that he was in such a neglectful environment#that he had started drinking at an INCREDIBLY young age got himself sober only to relapse due to a spiked drink after fame

#this sympathic is increased by the fact that he does geninuinely love and care for his friends and often goes to extreme lengths to show it#but what the show understands that MCU writers dont is that his tragic past doesn’t excuse the harm or pain he causes and the show goes to#LABORIOUS extents to emphasize the consequences and suffering his actions cause in his attempt towards making amends#it is FASINCATING to me that MCU just fails to grasp this because it’s really the core of Tony’s character. his story is one of redemption#and regret. but what it never seemed to get is that requires recognition of wrongs and change and his relationship with steve is a prime ex.#when they meet tony is 40+ and Steve is 23-25. steve has been awake from world war 2 for less than 2 weeks everyone he loves is dead and hes#visibly haunted by his time in the ice. his ptsd flashbacks to crashing the plane is how his character is introduced. Tony spends the time

#calling him ‘capsicle’ and talking about how much he can’t stand steve. the narrative plays it off as a gaff of little consequence but#practically speaking that’s INSANE. like can you imagine you’re a traumatized war vet who got out of a coma 2 months ago and woke up to#discover everyone you ever loved is dead and this stranger twice your age at your new work nicknames you coma boy and hates your guts bc of#his daddy issues? like Tony in avengers is borderline cruel but the narrative and the fandom never acknowledge it. it’s like removing the#laugh track on a scene from one of those old sitcoms and realizing how mean it is. and while we can fully acknowledge that Howard hurt Tony#that doesn’t make it Steve’s fault and doesn’t give Tony the license to take it out on him. like at the end of the day your healing is your#responsibility and the MCU fails to grasp that with Tony. honestly it does a disservice to the depth of his character b/c Tony should have#already grown past this by the time of Avengers. he had already gone through iron man 2 and grappled somewhat with his relationship w howard#while that doesn’t mean he’s healed yet it does mean that his character needs to learn to grow past it or he risks stagnation. mcu just#happily embraced stagnation and it made the character worse for it. Theres a scene in the comics where Tony is the first to reach out to#Steve post ice. he takes him to the air&space museum and welcomes him to the future. THATS the growth we want. Bc fundamentally even if we

#sympathize for Tony’s abuse by Howard lashing out at someone who was functionally dead at the time of ur dads mistakes is a very juvenile#mindset. /growth/ is deciding to be better than the person who hurt you and the MCUs obsession with blaming Steve for howard cut that off#CW would have been SO MUCH MORE COMPELLING if Tony had formed a relationship with Steve bc Steve would be torn between past and present but#instead Tony is saying how much he hated Steve during the fucking movie and Steve’s taking it with grace. like you’re 50 man you gotta work#past this at some point. out of tags but I have Opinions about Tony and actually zola too but we won’t get there give me more tags tumblr

Fundamentally, my issue with Tony and how he's written for the MCU is that he has the potential for one of greatest redemption arcs ever and the writers are fucking allergic to giving it to him, and his dynamic with Steve is a a prime example of it. How poorly Steve's relationship with Tony was mishandled is a pretty perfect case study as to how Tony as a character was mishandled as a whole.

As stated in the Tumblr Tags Essay above, by the time Steve came on the scene, Tony should have already grown past his hate for Steve. To be clear, that is not saying he should have gotten over Howard or any harm that he suffered as a result of his. Howard was his parent who was, to some degree, at least emotionally neglectful, if not abusive. Healing and learning helping coping mechanisms does not demand you forgive your abuser.

But Steve was never his abuser. He's a 20-something year old guy who has been trapped in a block of ice for Tony's entire life and who woke up two weeks ago to find out that everyone he ever loved is dead or suffering from alzheimer's and that his sacrifice was for nothing because he was just told the thing he drove a fucking plane into the fucking arctic over is Back Again Because We Learned Nothing.

And the thing is that the realization that "This man can hold literally no complicity in my abuser because he was frozen in the Arctic Circle the entire time" requires a level of emotional maturity you generally achieve at the age of thirteen or so. Tony is fucking fifty. Mentally, he's over twice Steve's age. At absolute best, the way Tony treats Steve from the outset is immature and more accurately it's downright cruel. Voluntarily killing himself by driving a plane into ice only to wake up and discover that he has lost everyone he ever loved is undoubtedly one of the most traumatic things that has ever happened to steve, and he just woke up from it. He is two weeks out from this. He's actively having flashbacks of what happened right before Tony starts cracking jokes about it. It'd be like if Steve walked up to Tony right after he got back from Afghanistan and called him Waterboarding Boy and everyone treated it like it was a cutesy character trait.

That's one of the most egregious parts of how Tony's character is written--things that are objectively things that need to be addressed in his character arc area treated like acceptable and borderline justified quirks in his personality. Tony's relationship with his father is one of the cornerstones of his backstory and who he became. While he doesn't have to forgive his father on the road to recovery, he does have to realize when he's using it as an excuse to hurt others and stop it.

That's also something he never does, and one of the reasons why i think that the writers for him need to watch Bojack horseman. In the same movie he's claiming to that he was Steve's friend, he's still saying to his face how much he fucking hated him over things that happened when Steve was supposed to have martyred himself to save the world.

There's multiple parts of Tony's character that could have formed the basis of an amazing character arc if he grew and improved from them, but the narrative refused to even recognize them as problems, let alone have him overcome them, and his relationship with Steve is a perfect example of it. The writer's refusal to recognize that brings down the quality of his entire arc and cheapens him as a character.

If Tony had been allowed to recognize that Steve was not to blame for his father, accepted it, and given a man half his age who just lost everything a lifeline, that would have shown an amazing amount of growth. Instead, they left him as immature and cruel. It's a shame and an insult to the potential of his character, and it's a mistake that they repeat again and again. Tony was supposed to be completely against developing weapons for others, but he canonically helped build a major part of Project Insight. Tony's entire stance in Civil War was meant to show that he had accepted that he made mistakes and that he needed to be held accountable for his actions, but then he went and unilaterally built EDITH, whose existence violates multiple international treaties including the Accords and had so few safety precautions that a teenaged boy was able to accidentally call out a missile strike on his teenaged classmate. He's in a movie where he's driven by his guilt for causing the death of someone's college-aged son, and in that same movie he blackmails a high-school-aged boy to join in on a fight he knows nothing about, that goes directly against his interests, and could get him killed even if he was certain that Team Cap wouldn't use lethal force. Rhodey got paralyzed from the waist down from friendly fire. Tony had a moment in the same fight where he had reason to fear that Peter had been injured if not killed.

Ultimately, Tony's entire character is built on a foundation of repentance and growth. That's why he has so much potential and why he's so compelling. The fact that his writers were unable to recognize when he even needed to repent, let alone allow him to grow, was honestly insulting to what he could have been.

Zola:

The reference to Zola is actually more of a response to fandom’s response to Zola as a whole than the actual specific person who made the comment.

Overall, the majority of fandom response that I've seen just seemed to be sort of besides the point? The thing about Armin Zola working for SHIELD is that I personally have only seen discussion about this in context of talking about how Peggy and Howard are Bad or talking about how steve would feel betrayed when he discovered it. To be honest most of the discourse I’ve seen has just been about hating Peggy Carter and using this as a sledgehammer in that discussion.

It’s not that I disagree with that reading of it—like, I do think Steve felt betrayed by the realization that Zola was recruited in the end, and I think it’s bad to have recruited literal Nazis—but I do think that fandom elevated the most tangential point of it to the detriment of its entire narrative purpose. I've only ever personally seen it used in character discourse and shipping wars--which like, anyone can draw on any plot point they so choose while participating in fandom. But Zola's recruitment was the thematic core of Winter Soldier, and it always seemed kinda weird to me that it was treated as a personal defect in Howard and Peggy when it was the entire argument of the movie and one of the best social commentaries that the MCU ever made.

Zola gives what I think is one of the better MCU villain speeches in the bunker about how Hydra recovered after the war. He states that they realized that taking the freedom of the world by force only galvanised people against them. It led to their own downfall. But he explains that Hydra realized that the people of the world would freely give away their own rights and freedoms if you made them comfortable. If you say you’re doing it for their own safety and comfort, then they’ll effectively look the other way while Hydra seizes control of the world. And that entire monologue is bolstered by the fact that that is exactly what happened in Zola’s case.

Zola was brought into SHIELD as a part of operation paperclip. Operation Paperclip was a post-war initiative by the United States government to recruit key Nazi scientists into United States scientific development. This entire initiative was brought about in response to the Cold War arm’s race and it was justified on the basis of dire national security need. Both America and the Soviet Union were EXTREMELY CONCERNED about losing the cold war. As a result, they were willing to take pretty much any strategic advantage they could, including After, President Truman, who gave the final go-ahead for the initiative, said that "this had to be done and was done."

Even after it became public knowledge, it was defended as more of a necessary evil and the cost of the practicalities of governance than a world power welcoming war criminals with open arms. Multiple participants have been linked to human experimentation, slave labor factories, etc, though none were ever formally found guilty of anything--which may be because the US aggressively whitewashed their pasts and then went so far as to help relocate one of the members of the initiative to Argentina.

This was, again, all a part of the Cold War arms race with the USSR--who had an identical program going at the same time, Operation Osoaviakhim.

En arguendo, let's just assume that all of this was done with the best possible intentions and execution. The nominal rationale was the Cold War. While analyzing the Red Scare and the entire Cold War period would take way too long, I think a solid premise we can agree on is that nuclear war is bad. It would have been disastrous for anyone alive if the Cold War had escalated, and recruiting top scientists from the Nazi regime 1) kept the USSR from doing it instead, which they were actively doing, and 2) helped prevent strategic advantage in one country or another that may have led to an escalation. Now, I'm not a historian, and all of these premises can naturally be debated, but these were the like, best faith premises that world leaders had at the time. If you want a nuclear deterrent, you need the biggest stick.

The thing is that, if you assume these premises as genuine for the sake of the argument, the absolute best this leaves you with is doing a very bad thing for a very important government purpose. You're supposedly preventing nuclear war, but you're doing so at the cost of justice for all the people who suffered at the hands of these people, and the risk of future harm that they may cause.

Which, thematically, is the core of the Winter Soldier.

I've usually seen Zola's recruitment discussed in terms of Peggy or Howard making the decision to let him in, when in reality, they probably didn't make the call themselves so much as become complicit in it later. Zola was captured and recruited right at the end of CA:FA (he later clocks this at 1945) but Peggy and Howard didn't even have an organization at that point, let alone the power to recruit a head Nazi scientist. This was two decades before SHIELD was ever founded, and if we take the Agent Carter series as binding canon, at the time of Zola's transition into American government would, Peggy had so little sway that she couldn't even get anyone to listen to her, let alone recruit a nazi scientist, and Howard was potentially on the run and definitely not involved in any formal governmental decision making. Even if you assume that they were somehow in charge of a government agency at the time of Zola's recruitment, the actual recruitment and function of Operation Paperclip was conducted by independent agencies (Joint Intelligence Objectives Agency and the Counterintelligence Corps) that Peggy and Howard weren't a part of, and the person who made the call for Operation Paperclip itself was The Literal President Of The United States. Whatever way you cut it, Peggy and Howard probably had nothing to do with Zola's initial recruitment--what most likely happened was that two decades passed (the time between Zola's recruitment and SHIELD's founding) and when resources were being allocated some big-shot in the overseeing body was like Yeah You Do Weird Stuff? We Got A Guy Who's Been Doing Weird Stuff For Us For Like Twenty Years and then when Peggy and Howard saw him they were like Oh Its This Motherfucker.

To be clear, this is not at all to absolve howard and peggy for working with a guy they knew did literal human experimentation because he did it on one of their best friends. But this is to more clearly reframe it from Decision They Personally Made to The Ways Being At A Certain Level Of Government Makes You Complicit With Horrible Things, which perfectly encapsulates the heart of the movie.

At the open of the movie, Steve is visibly on a fucking ledge with SHIELD. Fuck, Fury and Nat spend most of the opening trying to keep him from flying the coop. And it's because Steve for the very first time has to grapple with the consequences of being an active participant in a governmental body.

Straight up--Steve spent the entire war going AWOL. His entire military career was spent doing what he wanted and flipping his superior officers the bird. The man was a terrible fucking soldier but by the time anyone figured it out they had already given him a comic book and the Medal of Honor and the man could bench press a tank it was simply too late. Then, he got encased in ice for 70 years, woke up, had two weeks of fun future integration activities like Not Getting Therapy For His Problems and Looking At Pictures Of His Dead Friends, got tapped in because they fucked up with the exact thing he lost everything to stop, immediately went AWOL again, almost died again, went on a roadtrip of self discovery, and at some point between then and CAWS started working as one of the main STRIKE members of SHIELD. This is likely his first time having to ever deal with the realities of being a hand of the government.

One of the most insidious things about high-level government work is there's rarely some Main Guy sitting behind a desk signing Evil Decrees and responsible for everything. Power is allocated and things get messy very quickly.

Take Ghost for example. One of SHIELD'S Main Guys falls out with another Guy, smears his name, which makes the Ex-Guy so desperate that he takes unnecessary risks in his experiments that predictably blow up in his face and leads to his young daughter having a debilitating power that results in her uncontrollably phasing through objects. Another Guy tries to do the right thing and help her, but Other Main Guys think "This kid would make a GREAT assassin" and leverage a cure for her debilitating health condition into turning her into a forced operative. This health condition starts to kill her, but the Main Guys were so happy with their new forced assassin that they never looked for a cure to begin with and was going to use her until she died. She goes rather reasonably goes AWOL, and in her attempts to cure herself, she's willing to do just about anything to get cured, and including contemplating kidnapping Scott's daughter as an option.

Steve obviously wasn't called in to help with that (he was AWOL himself at that point) but assume he was--he would only get pulled into this mess at the very end when all the damage is done and there's a highly unstable assassin kidnapping little girls. SHIELD was at fault for every horrible thing that happened to this person. He has a strong sense of justice, and he'd likely to be furious to find out that SHIELD took an orphanged child and abused their incredibly painful and terminal medical condition, which was indirectly caused by them, in order to force them into becoming a highly skilled operative.

But there isn't just one person that he'd be able to find and blame for what happened with this--culpability was stretched out over Multiple Main Guys who made bad decisions, a lot of Lower Guys who built the suit, trained her, handled her in the field, and experimented on her to learn her limits, many of whom likely didn't even work for the organization any more.

Who do you go after for that? The Main Guy who smeared her dad? But he didn't have anything to do with the assassin business or the actual accident. The Main Guys who made the calls for the assassination thing? Better candidates, but is it that simple? What about the guys who just get orders every day and have no decision making authority, who were handed a little girl who was vulnerable and in pain and told to train her to kill? What about the ones making a child-sized tactical suit with no details about what was going on but who had reason enough to suspect it wasn't all good? They were just following orders, but so were Nazis working the camps.

How do you go after people for that? Fire them? It's been decades. Most are probably retired. And that's a pretty lame punishment for what they did. He doesn't make the calls for legal action, they definitely have qualified immunity for their decisions, and there's a whole host of problems with proving anything.

But, on the flip side, what does he do about Ghost? what happened to her is terrible, but if she had kidnapped Cassie Lang, he couldn't exactly sit on his hands and let it happen no matter the justification. There's a very good chance he has to stop her and become another link in a chain of what's been a lifetime of abuse. Things get messy when you're just a cog in the machine of a sprawling agency that has a lot of power to abuse.

While we don't know what Steve's been doing while he worked for SHIELD, we do know that it pissed him off to high heavens. The very first thing we see him doing for SHIELD is recapturing the off-course Lemurian Star from pirates, and he is the exact opposite of a dutiful soldier during it. He doesn't just salute and follow his orders without question--one of the first lines of his mouth is calling them out for lying about the ship being in those waters because it was off-course. He's like "Oh, so it's not off course, it's trespassing" to which Nat says "I'm sure they had a good reason" and Steve replies "I'm getting a little tired of being Fury's janitor."

He's saving the hostages, and then all of a sudden he finds Natasha in the control room downloading the drive and realizes that this was about SHIELD's data to begin with but no one clued him in on that fact. He's pissed because the hostages could have died, which is a fact he immediately goes after Fury about.

There is so much character jammed into those few minutes of screen time. This is visibly an old argument--at one point, Fury says to him "It's damn near getting past time for you to get with the program, Cap" to which Steve tells him not to hold his breath. Steve doesn't like or approve of a lot of SHIELD's actions, but he's called in after all the bad things they did went to shit. Like, what's he going to do--say, sorry, the Lemurian Star was obviously Up To Some Shit that I don't want to be a part of, RIP to the hostages but I'm just going to let them get shot in the head? He's the janitor and he's sick of getting called into SHIELD fucking something up through their own immoral actions and calling him to pull their ass out of the fire. He spends the entire first half of the movie on the verge of flying the coop entirely, and Nat and Fury visibly know it and are trying to get him off the ledge in every interaction they have on screen with him--which directly contributes to the fact that Steve doesn't trust either of them for the first half of the movie.

It also is likely the motivator behind why he does ultimately trust Sam. Steve spends the first half of the movie getting Managed. He's increasingly pissed and distrustful of SHIELD and its agents, and he's got good reason to be--Nat and Fury hide things from him and keep trying to persuade him to stick with the program (to be clear Nat's (and to a somewhat lesser extent Fury's) own actions and whether any culpability for things like project insight could possibly be imputed to her has to be analyzed under an entirely different lens due to the difference in her personal history and character type, but this is already way too long to tackle that here. this isn't actually meant to assign blame to her, but more to analyze the likely results on steve). Fury takes him for a tour of his Fascist Death Machine and tells him that's what the world needs. The neighbor he was growing increasingly intimate with was a SHIELD agent who lied to him about her name and the fact that she was spying on him. At the end of the day, the majority of the of the early movie is spent with his desires and principles are treated as secondary and unwanted complications to the fact that they really need him to keep throwing that shield on SHIELD's behalf (whether this is actually what nat and fury specifically are trying to do is, again, a separate analysis we don't have time for, this is just to go to how it likely affects and appears to Steve).

Sam, meanwhile, is beautiful and charming is the only one who openly expresses a genuine concern for Steve as a person and not steve as a solider. Sam spends the entire first half of the movie reaching out to someone in a position he's been in himself and trying to get him help. his entire first meeting with Steve is defined by him trying to help a fellow Vet recover from war. he tries to gauge where Steve's at with the future, invites him to the VA, and packages it in a easily-seen-through excuse that gives them both plausible deniability--Steve can come by and get the help he needs not as Captain America The Man The Myth The Legend Who Is Really Fucking Struggling, but as Steve the guy helping Sam impress the girl at the front desk.

When he comes to the VA, Sam has the direct opposite response that everyone else in the movie has to Steve questioning his place in SHIELD and in government work--he's like "Quit. Quit now. Be free and beautiful like me. become an ultimate fighter or whatever the fuck you want." He doesn't give two shits about what the world will do without Captain America keeping it safe--he just cares about what Steve needs.

This all goes to a greater analysis about how Sam is beautiful and charming the perfect parallel to Steve, the only one who could possibly have taken up his shield, and actually wrong in that line he says about how he does what Steve does but slower because he consistently decides to do the right thing before Steve is another analysis that would go too far off the point to get into. The point being is that Sam exists in the narrative as the direct opposite and alternative to the reality fury and nat offers Steve. Steve spends the beginning of the movie with Nat and Fury seemingly sacrificing the means for the end, but there's Sam, beautiful and charming someone who made the same decision he's now faced with, being like "fuck it. sometimes you have to walk."

Steve's entire struggle about his position with SHIELD reaches its climax when he first finds out the truth of Project Insight.

For the avoidance of any doubt, SHIELD secretly being infiltrated by HYDRA has no effect on how wrong Project Insight was from the start--it just emphasized how horrifically wrong it could go. But "Space Super Death Weapon That Can Immediately Kill Dangers To National Security" is a bad idea no matter who is in charge of it. First off, Steve is right--punishment follows the crime. No government has a crystal fucking ball and anyone who justifies things on the basis of "taking out threats ahead of time" is talking out their ass. to be clear, i'm not saying you need to wait for someone to be on a plane and flying at the twin towers to stop a terrorist attack--in law, we have a designated level of "closeness" that lets us say "yeah you were totally actually doing what we don't want you doing" at which point you can charge them with attempt, and often a lot of the earlier steps leading up to the Big Harmful Thing are actual crimes you can intervene with.

Project Insight was the flagship of of a "quantum surge in threat analysis." It did exactly what it was designed to do: it took out threats before they became threats. The only difference between SHIELD being at the helm and HYDRA is who gets defined as a threat. HYDRA would have defined that as anyone from a high school valedictorian in Iowa to Stephen Strange, but it's not any better if SHIELD's defining that as some random kid in Afghanistan who shows whatever traits show a risk for one day becoming a combatant.

And yet, steve's the only one in the movie who says this. We don't actually know how much Nat knows about Project insight itself, but Fury is fully aware and a participant in it, and Tony Stark apparently took one look at the thing and said "your engines are shit. i'll improve them." Steve takes one look at them and calls it fascist bullshit.

At the end of the day, you can never justify shit like this under the assumption that the people controlling it will use it for the best, because you cannot trust the people controlling it. Yeah, Project Insight was probably pitched with being used against the worst threats. Dangers to public safety, terrorists, that kind of thing. Do you want to know who else was considered a danger to public safety? MLK, who the FBI fucking murdered. The people who define threats to national security are the ones who have the same incentive to maintain the status quo in an unjust world. Even if we assume Project Insight was made to stop the next 9/11, we also have to assume that at least some of the strikes it would have carried out under not-HYDRA control would have been for the wrong reasons.

What the fuck does all of this this have to do with Zola?

Operation Paperclip and Peggy and Howard's decisions within it directly mirrors Project Insight and Fury's decisions within it, directly mirrors Steve's journey and central conflict over the course of the film, and directly contrasts with the alternative Sam poses within it.

CA:WS at its thematic core, says that initiatives that sacrifice justice for claims of national security and public safety are exactly what robs us of our rights and freedoms and ultimately endangers us all. It's not even subtle--Zola says it out loud in his evil villain speech. but operating at a high level in a government agency puts you in a position where you're meant to make that decision again and again, even if we assume you have the best of intentions.

Peggy and Howard were people who believed that they had to make the hard decisions to save the world. They were handed a decision where perception of culpability was obscured by how distributed out the blame was, and the direct public benefit to national security was posed to be overwhelmingly good. It leads to SHIELD's infiltration. Project Insight went through on the exact same reasoning. Fury, Maria Hill, possibly Nat, and Tony (off-screen) all do the exact same thing and justify the means by the end, and it leads to the helicarriers being made.

Steve spends the movie being told, explicitly, to "get with the program" and start making the same decisions. His central conflict is being someone on the inside of this club, being told that he needs to start understand what keeping the world safe demands, and his journey leads to him refusing to do it. The climax of the movie is a character so minor that we never learn his name refusing to launch the helicarriers with a gun pointed at his head, even though the complicity he carried in it would have been just as attenuated as Steve's was as SHIELD's janitor. And all throughout it, there's Sam, someone who left the military explicitly because he couldn't follow the rules he was being given anymore.

Peggy and Howard's decision to go along with Zola in Operation Paperclip is a direct parallel of the decisions Fury made with Project Insight and the decisions Steve ultimately refuses to make himself. Making Peggy and Howard complicit in what let in Arnim Zola encapsulates the entire core argument of CA:WS and it's so weird to me that I've only ever seen it discussed in shipping wars and discourse as to whether a Character Is Bad.

Peggy and Howard, ultimately, were members of a governmental task force who made the Hard Decisions for The Public Good. As an inherent part of that role, they did bad things. Unjust things. They undoubtedly saved the world multiple times over as a part of their tenure as the head of SHIELD, but it would be absolute naivety to assume that anyone in that position didn't become complicit in terrible fucking things. It's the direct product of their positions in the government, and it's exactly what leads to Steve's position in Civil War. it is absolutely bonkers to me how people watched Winter Solider and then reacted to Steve's opposition to the Accords like Local Imperialist Military Boy Refuses To Listen To Anyone Else. Steve just had a masterclass in how people in the government make decisions that sacrifice justice up to and including people he once trusted with his life. Of course he didn't fucking trust General Human Experimentation And I Consider Bruce Banner The Property Of The United States Military with his every action as Captain America. He had just learned that he couldn't even trust Peggy and Howard with it.

#this became very long #and you know what #if i want to say the same thing in the tags of some unsuspecting person's post then that's my right #more tags when #more tags NOW

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stevetonyweekly · 9 months

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SteveTony Weekly - July 23rd

Happy Sunday, folks! I went on a bit of a sportsball kick this week so--enjoy those recs. It’s also @Cap-Ironman rec week this week--I’ll be sharing all of my daily recs later today so look for that, and be sure to follow the tag for everyone’s recs.

Be sure to comment/kudos!

~*~

Average Avengers Local Chapter 7 of New York City by hetrez

Steve and Tony accidentally start a national do-gooders association and fall in love.

No time for losers by gottalovev

Tony Stark: Playboy. Millionaire. Philanthropist. Hockey superstar.

(featuring among other things an unexpected trade, learning to get along with new teammates, pining, the Olympics, and a happy ever after)

Ice Ice Baby (The Hockey Fic) by youcancallmearrow

Tony Stark is a star center, sidelined by a slip in sobriety. Steve Rogers is a goalie, suspended for a punch thrown off the ice.

When the two meet, they're trying to get their lives back on track, both off and on the ice. It turns out, the saying is true: A burden shared is a burdened halved. At least until Howard Stark gets involved.

(A get together fic full of fluff, supportive friends, dad Rhodey, and hockey! But if you know nothing about hockey, you'll be fine, because neither does the author.)

Things We Learned at the End of the World by JenTheSweetie

1. Even the apocalypse can't keep people away from Olive Garden

2. Smoothies do not replace conversations

3. Tony has really obvious sex hair

4. Home might be a little different, but that doesn't mean you can't go back

Didn't Catch You Saying Grace by isozyme

Tony’s straight: he always picks women, not men, so he must be. Steve’s gay, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.

how much i’ve been touching you by isozyme

Steve loves Tony, but not enough to listen about the SRA. He loves Sharon, but not enough to stop coming to Tony late at night.

Destiny Deserves Another Chance by KandiSheek

Steve is absolutely starstruck by the pirate who saves his village from destruction. When the mayor offers an omega's hand as a reward for his heroic deed, Steve wants nothing more than to be whisked away towards a better life. Anywhere would be better than here.

He's devastated when the alpha chooses Sunset Bain instead. He never even looks at Steve, which makes sense, considering Steve looks nothing like a proper omega should, what with his height and muscles. It's probably better that he was spared the humiliation. And it's not like Steve has a chance to win the pirate's heart now that he's promised to another.

Or so he thinks.

A High and Lonesome Sound by misslucyjane

Some nights, Steve still has trouble breathing.

A castaway where no one hears you on a barren isle in a lonely sea by Wolfsheart

A year and a half (give or take a month) after the divorce, Tony is still fighting the residual depression left behind from the way the divorce went down. Having been granted primary custody of their daughter, he's brought Morgan back to live full-time with him in Malibu, and he decided to surprise her with a trip to Disneyland. He lost his 'magic' back when Pepper left, so he doesn't know how magical Disneyland will feel to him, but it'll make Morgan happy, and that's what matters. However, will running into long-time unrequited crush Steve Rogers change all of that?

D-Day: 70 Years Later by Potterwatch97

70 years later, Steve is forced to face a gruesome part of his past. One that he never thought he's live to see.

Tony Stark and the Super Sleeper, or actually, Soldier by RurouniHime

The one where Steve keeps falling asleep on Tony.

When Hell Freezes Over by KandiSheek

Tony ingests a drug that amps his insecurities up to eleven. It seems like he's extremely susceptible to Steve's opinion specifically, now that he's like this.

Steve has no idea what to make of it. He only knows that trying to take care of Tony without accidentally revealing his feelings for him is going to be virtually impossible.

He does it anyway.

Fever, gettin' higher by RurouniHime

Yeah, okay, Steve Rogers knows what sexual harassment is. Despite his out-of-fashion upbringing, he’s not some backwater Neanderthal, thank you, he gets why it’s bad. He’ll go to bat for anyone who determines they’re the victim of unwelcome advances in the workplace. He’s not devaluing its impact, for god’s sake.

But the key word here, as he sees it, is ‘unwelcome.’ And that… might not be what this is.

this will destroy you by silkspectred

The screen flashes in front of his eyes. It takes him entire seconds to realize that it’s an incoming call.

Indecent Proposal by sabrecmc

One million dollars for one night. That could change your life.

Lock Screen by betheflame

Everything was fine.

Steve had everything under control.

Until Tony grabbed his phone while they were in the car, and his world shattered.

“This… this photo,” Tony croaked out. “Am I your lock screen?”

“You were not supposed to see that,” Steve said quickly. He reached for the phone while keeping one hand on the wheel.

“Keep driving please,” Tony said with a tone of calmness that ended up sounding terrifying, “and answer my question.”

Second Hand Mate by Morethancupcake

"The bandages had been his idea. The long sleeves too. Tony traces it with the tip of his fingers, before securing the tape, keeping the words away, safe, buried with the first man who ever showed him love and support.

'Second hand mate.' "

The first words his mate will use to talk about him.

Tony waits for it to happen.

Ribbon Round the Ole Oak Tree by Annie D (scaramouche)

Steve doesn’t mind that Tony doesn’t return his feelings. He just would've preferred if it didn’t come with the side effect of his coughing up flowers and possibly dying.

kings of the city by Areiton

The Irish mob held Brooklyn.

The Spider held Queens.

And where Tony fits in the city has never been clear...

Sometimes though, he thinks he fits here--at Steve's side.

#stevetony weekly #stony #stony weekly #stevetony #stevetony fic #stony fic #steve rogers #tony stark #captain america #iron man #fic rec list #fic recs

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queen-of-the-avengers · 4 months

Text

Iron Man 2: Part Three

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: canon violence and angst

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

After the press conference, you and Tony headed back to his house in Malibu. You need some space from Tony so you head down to his lab and sit in silence. Tony is dying and there is nothing you can do about it. You promised Howard you'd look after him but how can you when he won't accept it? Thinking about Howard brings you to Steve and how you wish he was here. Thinking about Steve brings you to Bucky and how much you'd give your life to have him here with you. It doesn't matter what you do, you can't ever escape his ghost.

How can you help Tony without knowing anything about science? You know nothing about Palladium or what could it be replaced with. Markus created the serum inside you. Even when he didn't have the Tesseract, he still made you a shapeshifter. You've met a lot of aliens in your day but you never asked to know about their genetic makeup—not even Carol. Bruce wanted your help with his creation of the Hulk but you really didn't know how to help except be there for moral support.

The thought of losing Tony brings back all those unpleasant memories of when you lose the people closest to you. Tony's impulsive and he's the only person who can make him see that what he's doing is dangerous and reckless.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Tony asks when he walks into the lab. In response, you hold up the blood toxicity device. There are no words to amount to how sad you are. "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Can't you be serious for one fucking second? Please?"

"Fine! I'm dying. People die, Y/N! You of all people should know that."

"Not you," you shake your head. "Not this young. The only reason you're dying is because of that thing in your chest."

"So, it's my fault we got captured in the first place? It's my fault for having deadly shrapnel in my heart?"

"No, Tony, it's not your fault. It's not your fault you're dying. What is your fault is having that thing in your chest and doing nothing about it. You're just accepting your end when you might have a chance to do something about it. I'm trying to think of a suitable replacement for Palladium, but you're not making it easy for me. It's not like I can go back in time to gather more information. It's like you're not even trying to become better. You're acting out because you think it's the end when it doesn't have to be."

"Look at what you are, Y/N. You're an alien with magical powers. If you don't have anything, what makes you think I do?"

"You remind me of me, Tony. I've been with you and your family for twenty years. I've seen you grow and learn from your mistakes faster than anyone. I may have defeated one person from making a huge mistake, but you've saved millions. If we put our heads together, we might have something. I need you to work with me on this."

"Give me one good reason I should."

"I'm the one that promised your dad that I'd protect you."

"Not good enough."

"In my entire life, I've lost seven people that were practically family. Hell, two of them were. I'm a thousand years old, Tony. Death is kind of in the job description. I bleed death and only seven have made an impact. Eight if you continue down this road. There will come a day when I lose you but it's not going to be now. Please don't make it now."

"What else am I supposed to do?" he sighs, throwing his hands up in frustration.

"For starters, you can keep drinking that disgusting shit Jarvis told you to drink. Then we go from there. Baby steps, but I need you to put in the effort."

"Jarvis, how many ounces a day of this shit am I supposed to drink?" Tony addresses his home system.

His entire computer network fires up and Jarvis is ready to help and to work. Since he's a computer, he came up with this concoction that counteracts the effects the palladium has on Tony.

"We are up to eighty ounces a day to counteract the symptoms, sir."

"Check palladium levels, please," you politely order.

"Blood toxicity is twenty-four percent. It appears that the continued use of the Iron Man suit is accelerating your condition. Another core has been depleted."

Tony plops down in his chair and you grab the small chest that's near his main computer. You open it to reveal five new cores just waiting to be replaced with the one in his chest. Tony lifts his shirt up and takes out the arc reactor. Out pops a rusted and slightly smoking core. It's not good to have this thing in his body, but it's going to take a lot more than you to change his mind.

He's stubborn, just like his dad.

"God, they're running out quick."

"Yeah, because you keep using that fucking machine. You're not going to live forever, Tony. There will be a point where you'll run out of juice."

"It seems like you live forever."

"I'll die just like everyone else. It'll take a few thousand years before it happens, but it will."

"I have run simulations on every known element, and none can serve as a viable replacement for the palladium core," Jarvis informs.

You hand Tony a new core. It's silver and shiny but most importantly, it shows just how damaging it is to Tony when compared to the one that just came out. He replaces the old core with the new one and places the arc reactor in his chest.

"Jarvis, there has to be something. Even knowing where I'm from, you have to know something."

"Unfortunately not, Miss Y/N. He is running out of both time and options. Unfortunately, the device that's keeping him alive is also killing him."

All around the arc reactor are lines protruding from the device itself. It looks like a digital game of Tetris, but you know it's the poison from the element seeping into his bloodstream.

Pepper walks down the stairs to the lab without knowing what's going on inside of it.

"Miss Potts is approaching. I recommend that you inform her--"

"Mute," Tony cuts him off and the computer switches to the screensaver.

"Tony, you really have to tell her. What's going to happen when you're suddenly gone? She's going to start asking questions and I--"

"Is this a joke?" Pepper interrupts when she walks inside. "What are you thinking?"

"What is it?" you ask.

"What are you thinking?" she sniffles.

"Hey, I'm thinking I'm busy and you're angry about something. Do you have the sniffles? I don't want to get sick."

"Did you just donate our entire modern art collection to the..."

"...Boy Scouts of America?" Tony says it with her at the exact same time.

"You did what?" you ask in shock.

"Yes. It is a worthwhile organization. I didn't physically check the crates but basically, yes. Plus, it's not our collection, it's my collection. No offense," he shrugs.

"No, you know what? I think I'm actually entitled to say our collection considering the time that I put in, over ten years, curating that."

"It was a tax write-off. I needed that."

"Tony, stop," you whisper but he ignores you.

See, this is what you're talking about. He's dying and he feels like giving away all of his shit is better than actually dealing with his problems like a mature adult.

"You know, there's only about eight thousand and eleven things that I really need to talk to you about. The Expo is a gigantic waste of time," she coughs into her elbow.

"I need you to wear a surgical mask until you're feeling better. Is that okay?"

"That's rude," she sighs.

"Yeah, I agree with her," you cross your arms.

"There's nothing more important to me than the Expo. It's my primary point of concern. I don't know why you're--"

"The Expo is your ego gone crazy," you say for Pepper.

Tony's mind is clearly elsewhere because when he spots one of his Iron Man paintings, he picks it up and marvels at it.

"Wow. Look at that. That's modern art. That's going up," he grins and walks to the other side of the lab. You and Pepper make eye contact before following him like lost puppies. "I'm gonna put this up right now. This is vital."

"You've got to be kidding me," you groan.

"Stark Industries is in complete disarray. Do you understand that?" Pepper tries to put this in his thick head.

"No. Our stocks have never been higher."

"Yes, from a managerial standpoint--"

"Let's move to another subject," he shrugs.

He approaches one of his lab tables and climbs on top of it. On the wall next to him is a painting of a thick black line then been sold for millions. You can create something better than that in your sleep but you don't comment on it. He reaches for the painting and Pepper visibly freaks out.

"No, no, no, no. You are not taking down the Barnett Newman and hanging that up."

"I'm not taking it down. I'm just replacing it."

He takes it off the wall and replaces it with the Iron Man painting.

"Okay, fine. My point is, we have already awarded contracts to the wind farm people," Pepper changes the subject.

"Yeah. Don't say 'wind farm'. I'm already feeling gassy."

"Not to mention the plastic plantation tree, which was your idea by the way. Those people are on payroll..."

"Everything was my idea," he scoffs.

"...and you won't make a decision," she finishes even though he interrupted her mid-sentence.

"I don't care about the liberal agenda anymore. It's boring. Boring. I'm giving you a boring alert," he jumps off the desk and onto the floor. "You do it. Excellent idea. I just figured this out. You run the company."

"Yeah, I'm trying to run the company," she sighs.

"Well, stop trying to do it and do it."

"You won't give me the information..."

"I'm not asking you to try..."

"...in order to..."

"I'm asking you to physically do it. I need you to do it," Tony says louder than her to stop her from talking.

"I am trying to do it!"

"Pepper, you're not listening to me!"

"No, you aren't listening to me," she argues in frustration.

"I'm trying to make you CEO. Why won't you let me?" he asks calmly.

"Have you been drinking?" she asks after a moment of silence.

"No, that's just his personality," you scoff.

"I hereby irrevocably appoint you chairman and CEO of Stark Industries effective immediately. Yeah, done deal. Okay? I've actually given this a fair amount of thought, believe it or not."

One of the robots brings him a tray with a bottle of champagne and three glasses on it.

"I'm doing a bit of headhunting, so to speak, trying to figure out who a worthy successor would be. I realized it was you. It's always been you," he says sincerely.

Even though you're not romantically involved with Tony, you feel a ping in your heart at his words. It's always been you. It's always been you, Bucky. You have got to move on. The man is dead for God's sake, and it's been over seventy years. Pepper sits down in shock and confusion, and Tony pours the champagne into the three glasses.

"I thought there'd be a legal issue but I'm capable of appointing my successor. My successor being you." He hands both you and Pepper a drink but you can't seem to take a sip. "Congratulations? Take it, just take it."

"I don't know what to think," she finally says.

"Don't think, drink," he smiles and takes a sip of his own drink.

Will you ever find love like he has for her? Will you ever find love with someone who will last longer than eight years? Maybe if Carol never left, you'd still be with her. Would she still want you? Would you still want her? You haven't had true happiness since Bucky died. Will you ever find it again?

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff fan fic #natasha romanoff fan fiction #natasha romanoff fiction #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff angst #marvel fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel #mcu #marvel fluff #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction #marvel fan fic

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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 year

Text

You know... I've been back on my Stony kick, rewatching the movies... and can't help but really hate Endgame. Don't get me wrong, I loved my Stony scenes, but damn, most everything else is like... but why? ⬇️

I'm gonna get backlash for this, but I don't care. Morgan Stark seemed really unnecessary, now that I really look at it. Adorable, but kinda unnecessary. If they don't bring her back in the later MCU, she was used for an emotional response following Tony's death. And honestly, I feel they glossed over Tony's sadness for Peter being gone by wedging her in there. And... how is it fair for his daughter that he gets killed off when she's 5? Idk.

Natasha dying. Natasha dying that way, honestly, Natasha dying at all. And how they couldn't bury her. And don't even get me going about the new Guardians of the Galaxy, SPOILER: and how they managed to bring Gamora back? Who died EXACTLY the way Natasha did. The team needed her.

The hulk. Enough said.

Making Thors depression into a big joke. Making his alcohol abuse into a big joke. Glossing over how he legit lost EVERYTHING. Really bothers me. Bothered me then and bothers me more now.

Howard. Stark. Look...idgaf what the movie tries to push, Howard was a bad dad. He neglected Tony, gave him negative attention, always made him feel inferior and never showed him any affection whatsoever. And they want me to believe that what? He held him in this high regard and loved him more than anything? Yeah, no. I don't.

Would have enjoyed seeing more of how the blip affected everyday life.

More scenes with the Avengers rebonding.

Pepper should've gone in the snap. Yep, I said it. And it corresponds mostly with the bullet above here..⬆️ We deserved to see Tony bond more with his team, wish we could've seen him discover time travel with them. Instead it was randomly at home? Ok then.

Tony's death. But I know why it happened :(

Steve's ending. I could write a dissertation about how ooc that was for him, but I won't. Hated it for Steve, hated it for Peggy and found it rather creepy. You kissed that woman once, never dated her, and you go back in time to be with her? Not knowing if it'll even work out? No. That's ridiculous. And you leave Bucky and Sam behind? After all that crap in CW, you leave them behind? Nah. Boo on you, Steve. And man, the Russos reasoning regarding this end is the BIGGEST mindfuck ever.

What exactly HAPPENED to Steve? Did he die in the falcon show? I thought he was a super soldier? How the hell long was he in the past? He looked 75 years old, but Bucky looks 30? I don't get it. It's like the biology of the serum was reworked for this. 🤐 And done badly.

I guess Daniel Sousa is obsolete, huh? The man who actually had time to get to know and love Peggy? 🤷‍♀️ guess so...

That's all I can think about right now... but yeah, Endgame leaves me really depressed because I feel everything after has been subpar regarding the MCU franchise.

It could've been so much better...

#stony #stevetony #steve rogers #tony stark #steve x tony #616 stony #mcu stony #alternate timeline #endgame #natasha romanov #sam wilson #bucky barnes #thor #clint barton #peter parker #the avengers

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rynnthefangirl · 3 months

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My Post-BCS Kim Wexler Headcanons

-Kim isn't penniless, she made an okay wage at the sprinkler company and has a good bit of money saved up from her days working for HHM, Mesa Verde, and S&C. She actually shoved her lawyer money into a separate account and refused to use it during the Florida years out of guilt, getting by only on her Sprinkler salary.

-Cheryl does end up suing Kim, but it's settled pretty quickly. Kim gives Cheryl her savings from her lawyer days, which is used to help set up a legal aid grant in Howard's name. Howard gets a positive and long lasting legacy, and Kim gets to know that her money went towards her dream of providing free quality legal help to people in need. Win-win for everyone, and Kim isn’t forced into poverty.

-The part of Kim that still thinks she needs to punish herself feels bad about this, as that is what she would have wanted to do with the money even without the lawsuit and it feels more for her than for Howard. But Cheryl seems satisfied, and ultimately Kim knows that helping people is more important than whatever guilt she still struggles with. Kim also remembers how Howard told her that he wanted to make a difference in the world before being pressured into joining HHM by his dad, so it feels like something he would have wanted and liked.

-Her affadavit being public knowledge makes it pretty much impossible for her to become a licensed attorney again, and she never tries. However, she does become heavily involved in the legal world, eventually moving from volunteer work to a full time paid position as a paralegal doing lots of pro bono legal aid work. Despite not being an attorney, she finds her work very personally fulfilling.

-She forms some good and meaningful friendships through her work. She can be herself around others again, a far cry from what we see of her interactions with others in Waterworks.

-She dumps Glenn pretty much immediately after the events of Saul Gone. She dates here and there, with a couple more serious relationships, but doesn't remarry (nobody ever really lives up to Jimmy).

-Kim visits Jimmy several times a year, and they otherwise keep in close contact through letters/phone calls. They are still each other's #1 person, and both of them relish the time they get to spend together, despite Jimmy being in prison. They can't be together like they used to be, but the love is still there and that's what matters most.

-Kim eventually starts going to therapy to help her deal with her guilt over Howard's death. Like Jimmy with Chuck, she'll always carry that cross, but she gets better at not letting it consume her.

-Occasionally, when planning out a trip to go see Jimmy, Kim will book her return flight home from Albuquerque. The drive down there from ADX Montrose is 6 hours, but it's an enjoyable one that passes through the Colorado mountains and then the familiar New Mexico desert. She'll visit places that hold memories of the past, usually memories she shared with Jimmy. She tries to avoid running into former acquaintances, and never ever returns to their old apartment. The last thing she does before her flight home is pay a visit to Howard's grave.

-This trip eventually starts to feel very important to Kim, and she keeps it up over the years. Taking that time to physically return to her past makes it easier to put it behind her and focus on her future instead.

-Kim gets a cat. No deeper meaning, I just think Kim with a cat would be adorable and she should do it. She names him Atticus.

#kim wexler #post-bcs #better call saul #bcs spoilers #Kim deserves happiness and healing #without erasing the themes of the show and the point behind her and Jimmy’s endings

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thepaintedlady00 · 1 year

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Nightshade

Chapter 1: The Tigers Stripes

OC Intro | Chapter 2

Hi! So sorry for the extra long wait for literally everything. 😂 I was getting back on track after the holiday and then immediately got sick so I’ve been struggling to edit and whatnot. But, I’ve been feeling better so hopefully I’ll be able to hop back into the swing of things. Thank you all for your patience and I hope you enjoy the first chapter! 🥰

Aldo credit for restaurant name used goes to @anastacia-lynn. They've got their own Sweetbitter fic that is amazing so far, so go check it out! ❤

TW: Mentions of cancer treatments & hospitalization, language, drinking, vague mentions of drugs.

This city was the most beautiful when it was bathed in rain. Something about seeing the lights distorted by the heavy drops of liquid, the colors reflecting in the puddles and pools that formed on the pavement, just made New York seem so ethereal. I’d lived here most of my life, moved around a few times when I was younger but I always seemed to end up back in the city. It was hardly perfect, always loud and busy with that big city smell, but it was home. Though it’d been difficult to get by most of the time, the opportunities the city had to offer kept me and my brother rooted here, for the time being at least.

“How’s the weather today?” A weak voice asked from behind me. The faint beeping of the machines pulled me back to the small, sterile room. Through the hospital window the city looked smaller, much less like the ethereal place I’d been imagining in my daydream and more like a cage of buildings and strangers and noise.

“Rainy,” I answered, turning around to offer the man in the hospital bed a smile. Half conscious and buried under a pile of thin white hospital blankets my brother smiled back at me.

Peter shook his head and chuckled. "That'll be fun for you to get home in."

Rolling my eyes I sat down in the chair beside him. "I'm sure I'll manage."

"You've been through worse," he agreed, looking back at the older TV, hospitals didn't exactly have the best options when it came to entertainment, but I supposed we were lucky to have a room with a TV at all.

Time moved so sporadically it was odd to think of just how long we’d been in this place… staring at the same old TVs, but coming across old episodes of Pete's favorite renovation shows always managed to remind me. It had been four years since our dad died. Three since I dropped out of college and come home. Two since Peter was diagnosed with leukemia and one since he'd started being in the hospital more than out of it. Life hadn't been easy, even with the modest savings both of us had and our dad's half of a fairly well off bar. Peter and I never admitted it, but losing Dad was a tipping point of bad. Ever since it happened we both were just thrown to the chaos of life, chaos this city thrived in, and told we could either sink or swim. Lately we’d been sinking, but that was all about to change.

I held the small card in my hands, running the edge of my finger over the slight indentations of the writing in black pen. 22West was one of the most upscale restaurants in this city. It was a place I was well familiar with and so it was rather easy getting an interview with the manager.

Howard smiled widely as he greeted me at the door with a firm handshake. “Lena. It’s good to see you! Right this way, we’ll be speaking in my office.”

Most other potential employees would have been interviewed in the main area, but I wasn’t exactly like most people applying for a job here so Howard happily led me past the bar and towards his office. I could feel peoples eyes on me as they continued setting up for the long night of service and was thankful when the office door closed behind us.

“The place looks great, Howard.”

“Thank you,” he said as he sat down. “I have to say, I was surprised you called and more surprised when you asked me for a job.”

I shrugged. “It’s been a while since I had a steady job and I kinda need the money right now.”

Howard’s kind smile faded as he fussed with his pocket square, clearly anxious about bringing up this next part. “I heard about your brother's condition, I’m sorry you’re both going through so much.”

“Where did you hear about him?” I asked, only to receive a pointed look. With a scoff I nodded. “I should have guessed.”

“But, a job. I’m afraid I don’t have any server positions open currently.”

“I’ll take anything Howard. Fuck, I’ll even do dish.”

He laughed and shook his head. “I think we can do a bit better than that. You have the skill for any of our positions, why don’t we just play the field a bit?”

“Play the field?” I asked with a laugh. “When did you start getting into sports talk?”

“It’s a recent development, one I am finding I’m not very good at.”

“So, you want me to just find what needs done and jump in?”

Howard nodded. “Yes. You’ll mostly be back in the kitchen, but if there’s an opening up front I’ll be the first to offer it to you.”

“I think I can handle that. When do I start?”

That had been a week ago and now tonight was the night, the beginning of the real test. "What time do you need to go?"

I looked up at my brother's pale face, his tired eyes moving from the TV to look over at me. "Not for another hour."

"You should head home. You know, shower and and fix your hair, all that fun shit."

"And leave you here all by your lonesome?" I asked rubbing the rainbow beanie covering his patchy head. "Never."

"Lena," he sighed with a smile. "Go. I'll be fine on my own for a night."

"Seriously, Pete, I'm good."

"You're freaking out." He stated. I hid many things well, but never from him. "This is a lot, everything considered… You want this, Me, you've wanted this for years before all this shit."

He wasn't wrong. He hardly ever was. Finally I looked at him and nodded. "Fine, but call me if you need me. Please?"

He ruffled my hair. "Promise. Now get out of here. And tell Isaac I said hi!"

I pressed a quick kiss to his head and hopped out of the chair, grabbing my coat and bag before making my way to the nurses station. Lisa, one of the regular nurses on my brother's rotation, smiled at me. "Finally taking a breather?"

"Got work to get to now." I gestured to his room. "If anything happens, call me?"

"Of course," she assured me with a light squeeze of my hand. "Now relax Lena, and have a good night!"

I laughed as I started off toward the elevator. "I doubt it'll be any worse than usual."

Rain slid down the windows of the cab as we slowly made our way through New York traffic to my apartment building. It was sort of an in between place at this point. I rarely stayed there longer than a night or two when Peter was in the hospital and even when he was out I usually stayed at his place, just in case he needed me. I paid the cabbie and ran up the steps, trying not to get drenched in rain. I waved to the landlord as I passed by and quickly unlocked my door, wincing at the loud creaking noise it made when it opened. The pungent smell of dust and vague cleaning materials filled my nose instantly, making my head swirl with the suddenness of it. I tossed my bag onto the couch and hung my leather jacket carefully off the back of it, my fingers tracing the worn stitched on letters as I moved to my bedroom and quickly stripped to shower.

The hot water took a minute to kick in, but once I stood beneath the blistering spray of it my tense muscles finally began to loosen. Sleeping on hospital pull outs or in their old chairs was never comfortable, and my body certainly felt it. I tried not to think about the worst case scenario that tonight could turn into as I dried my hair and rummaged through my clothes for the appropriate attire that the high scale restaurant demanded. Not thinking something was difficult when you were about to walk face first into it, wearing clothes that fit too well and left no room to hide among the fine fabrics.

I didn't look like me, I decided when I looked into the mirror to pull my hair back. I looked like someone else… Someone that I might have been a long time ago but now… I shook my head and took a deep breath. There’s no time to turn back now. I reminded myself. Wrapping my leather jacket around my shoulders, breathing in the faint cologne and musk of alcohol and smoke, I let the nervous doubt fade. Peter was right, I wanted this… I'd studied and worked for something similar once. It was time to sink or swim, and I sure as hell wasn't going to sink now.

Jake hated the rain. He hated the way it smelt, hated how it lingered on every sidewalk and street, hated how it soaked through his clothes making him feel even more smothered than he normally did. He rode his bike quickly through the alleyway and nodded to his coworkers as they all huddled near the door smoking. Scott smirked at him and tilted his head to gesture to his pants. “Not the best weather for riding.”

“No shit,” he replied, grumpily as he swung the bike over his shoulder and shoved his way past them into the kitchen. Prep was in full swing, white coats weaving around him and yelling profanities and complaints as he passed by. Normally he’d slow down, take his time to really piss the cooks off with his big bike and sarcastic attitude, but he wasn’t in the mood for it today. Instead he walked up the stairs quietly and plopped his bike into the spot he always did, stripping in the back room and throwing his locker door open.

Light footsteps echoed behind him as he tossed his wet clothes inside and grabbed his work attire. The steps stopped beside the door and a soft sigh, one he knew far too well, filled the room. “You’re early today.”

Jake gave her a quick glance. Simone was ready for work, of course she was, her blonde hair tucked neatly into the ponytail and her clothes pristine, not a wrinkle in sight. It was her stiff face that made him roll his eyes and return his attention to his task. “You’re the one always on my ass for being late.”

“I’m just making an observation, Jake,” she replied, voice soft but he could pick up on the scolding in her tone.

“Well fuck off and go observe someone else.”

Simone set a hand onto his shoulder, the action one that should have made him melt… that had always made him before, but today made his body stiffen. “I’m worried about you. Ever since… You’ve been acting differently.”

The knot that had settled into Jake's stomach tightened as he shook her hand off. “I’m fine.”

Her silence was cold, bringing an uncomfortable shiver up his spine. "Is this about Tess?"

At the mention of her name Jake felt a rush of emotions fill him. Frustration, regret, anger. He looked at Simone and laughed. "Jesus, not everything is about that."

"Jake-"

“I said I’m fine.” He snapped. The silence was deafening for a moment before he sighed. “I’m fine, Simone.”

She nodded, a sadness filling her eyes that made him open his mouth to apologize, but she spoke first. “I know that things have been strained between us since she… Left, and I know you’re probably angry with me for my part in it." She shook her head, clearly frustrated. "I’m just looking out for you, like I always have and always will.”

“I’m not angry with you. She went behind both our backs and tried to get you fired. What happened it's on her. I'm just…” If he were to tell the truth Jake didn’t know what he was anymore. It had been simple before, all of it. He would work this uptight job, he’d keep his coworkers at arms length, he’d be with Simone if she that was what she wanted and if not he’d find some stranger to pass the time with, he’d get fucked up and go home and then do it all over again. It had been enough for him before and then something had happened. Something had changed. He sighed and buttoned up his shirt. “I’m just tired.”

Simone merely watched him for a moment before she, wordlessly, helped him with his tie. She smiled at him and stroked her hand across his cheek. “You can always talk to me. You know that right?”

“Of course I do.” He answered, leaning into her touch, hoping to feel the comfort and calm it usually brought him.

Jake watched her walk away, the knot growing as she vanished from sight. He felt nothing. No matter how much he drank or smoked, no matter how much attention Simone or anyone else gave him it never changed. He was numb. Numb to the city that once entertained him, numb to the things he once took some small measure of pleasure in and most of all numb to the reality of what it meant. He slammed his locker shut and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. Pull yourself together.

Nicky greeted him as he slid behind the bar and grabbed a rack of glasses to clean. “Ready for a long night?”

He shrugged, putting on his normal unbothered uninterested front. “Always am."

“Well, if the gossip floating around today is true it's going to be real interesting.”

“Howard got more bullshit up his sleeve?” He questioned with a huff.

“Don’t know how much of it will turn out as bullshit, but we’re getting a new friend today.”

Jake’s hands paused in their movements as he glanced up at Nicky with a raised brow and a smirk. “New friend? He actually hired someone then?”

Nicky nodded. “Remember that girl from last week?”

"The one he took to his office?"

"Yeah. He said she was more than qualified."

He hummed quietly as the quick glance he’d gotten of her replayed in his mind. He hadn't really had a chance to get a good look at her, but those that did, Sasha mostly, raved about how she looked like fun. “She must've been real impressive for him to hire her on the spot,” Jake joked. “What time does she get in?”

Nicky looked at his watch. “Any minute now.”

“This’ll be fun,” he replied, with a grin. Maybe that was all he needed to get rid of whatever his fucking problem was, something fresh and fun to toy around with. The kitchen doors opened and a flash of red filled his vision as the unfamiliar figure slid out into the open, pausing by the bar to look around. She was short, wearing professional looking attire, but the way she held herself was different… interesting. Her head turned and their eyes locked.

Most people would have looked nervous, scared even, on their first day in such a prestigious place, but not her. There was no hint of fear in her glimmering green eyes, nothing at all save for a mild annoyance he assumed was directed at him. She looked bored. Jake’s smirk widened as he watched her turn away from them and walk toward the noise of the rowdy family meal. This was exactly what he needed.

Isaac leaned up against the wall in the half covered alley, making light conversation with a few of his coworkers, as I approached. He looked away from them and smiled widely, opening his arms and practically swallowing me in them. “Lena! Took you long enough! I’ve been waiting forever.”

“Sorry,” I answered. “Had to dig these shitty clothes out of my closet.”

He chuckled, dark curls of hair twisting out from beneath his bandana. “Well you look fantastic!”

I gave him a look and rolled my eyes. “I look like a washed up pianist or something.”

Isaac bit his bottom lip to hold back his loud chuckle. “I think you look more like an unsuccessful magician but maybe that's just me."

“Shut up.” I swatted his shoulder and followed him inside, forcing my breath to remain deep and even as the familiar excited chaos of the kitchen raged around me.

It had been years since I’d heard the clamoring of voices and the sharpness of the knives and felt the heat of the industrial ovens and stovetops in full swing. I’d missed it far more than I thought. Isaac led me to the back room and knocked on one of the lockers with a smile. “This one's yours.”

Examining the empty space I tossed my bag inside and carefully shrugged off my jacket, hanging it up. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Howard has it.” I raised my brow at him, earning a quick shrug. “Don’t ask me why, I never know what he’s got going on in his head.”

“Great,” I muttered, closing the locker and turning on my heel, running into a solid body. Every inch of me tensed at the feel of an unfamiliar hand grabbing my arm.

“Careful,” the man said, steadying me. I looked at him, perhaps a bit too coldly, noting his neat brown hair and his wide dark eyes as he held his hands up innocently and gestured to the locker beside mine. “Sorry, I was just trying to squeeze behind you.”

I forced out a hot breath and shook my head. “It’s fine, you just startled me.”

He held his hand out to me with a smile. “I’m Will.”

“Lena.” I replied, shaking his hand firmly. “You Howards manager trainee?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I’ve been trained to identify management,” I replied with a modest shrug.

He chuckled and nodded to Isaac. “She your trail?”

The burly man laughed loudly and shook his head. “Nope.”

Will's eyebrows scrunched together as he looked back at me with a tilt of his head. “Wait, you're not trailing anyone?”

“No, at least I don’t believe I am.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, well I… uh… I guess I can show you around, help you learn the ropes?”

I offered him a pat on the arm. “I’m good, but thank you for the offer. Do you know where Howard is?”

“He’s, uh, downstairs overseeing the family meal.”

“Thanks Will,” I said, sliding past him. “I look forward to working with you.”

I made my way through the kitchen and out the doors leading into the lobby. Everything looked so elegant and at the same time so boring. Nothing had changed about the posh space, not the tablecloths or the chairs or the glassware. It was all frozen in time, everything but the flowers. My eyes settled onto them for a moment, taking note of the tiny speck of new before I turned my head toward the bar, or more specifically the pair of blue eyes burning into me from behind it.

The man was tall, lean with messy dark hair and a cocky grin. He was attractive and he obviously knew it judging by the way his eyes unflinchingly took me in. I should have expected at least one cocky bartender, I thought to myself as I turned away from him and followed the noise deeper into the lobby. A long table was surrounded by the staff, all of them chattering over their plates of food telling jokes and bitching about how tonight was going to go. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice me, everyone but one woman.

Her eyes watched me closely, the plainness of her face revealing nothing outwardly while also telling me everything I needed to know about her. She would be a problem. Her blonde hair shifted as she tilted her head to the side, observant eyes trying to gather as much information on me as they could. She made herself look occupied by swirling the glass of her wine, looking at the liquid for a moment before looking back up at me with a soft smile. Soft and kindly as she appeared I knew better than to fall into such an obvious trap.

"Oooh, what's this?" A thickly accented voice cooed, pulling my attention away from the scrutinizing gaze of the blonde woman. The man was tall, bald with a long face and wide grin, two women moving to stand beside him, studying me with a similar look. "A baby tiger looking to earn her stripes?"

"This one already has stripes," Howard stated, moving toward the group quickly and handing me a neatly packed shirt. The group murmured among themselves, eyes darting between me and each other as Howard pulled a chair out for me and told them to take their seats.

The bartenders wandered back and took seats at the table where plates had already been made for them. The dark haired man sat beside the blonde woman and they shared a few hushed whispers before his blue eyes settled onto me and that shit eating grin returned. I rolled my eyes and focused on Howard as he began the quaint little meeting. A cocky bartender and a competitive shrew. Fucking great.

“It's good to see so many of you looking prepared for another night of excellent service." Howard regarded the group with a sarcastic look as he folded his hands behind his back.

"Is tonight not some kind of special occasion?" The light voice echoed from the blonde woman as she took a gentle inhale of the wine before taking a modest sip with a smile. "I highly doubt you'd bring out such an extravagant bottle for nothing."

"Excellent observation, Simone. It's a welcoming gift from the owner." Shit. Howard smiled down at me and poured me a glass of the rich crimson liquid. "As you are no doubt aware, we have a new member to the family. I trust we'll all be putting our best foot forward to show Ms. Harrow how things are around here."

I smiled politely, quickly examining the wine before taking a drink. "Thank you, Howard. I trust you’ll pass along my thanks to the owner as well for such a gracious welcome."

The woman, Simone, hummed quietly. "A bottle of 2002 Château Lafite Rothschild is quite a gift. I don't think I remember anyone else getting something so… Generous."

Yep. She was definitely going to be a problem. "2000 Château Lafite Rothschild. The 2002 is more acidic than this, fruity but a hair bitter. The temperature of the season resulted in riper grapes and thus the richness of this particular vintage."

"You know your wine," she said with a smile.

"I know enough," I replied with a modest smile. "There's always more to learn."

Howard cleared his throat and resumed control of the gathering, but Simone never took her eyes off me, not even when her companion turned to whisper something to her. I didn't let it bother me, not when I had bigger fish to fry. If the owner knew I was here, then there was a higher chance this whole thing could lead to far more horrifying individuals learning about my newfound job. It wouldn't come to that though, not if she kept her lips sealed, which she would… She'd give me that much respect.

After he’d finished his speech Howard set a hand on my shoulder and I could feel Simone’s eyes drinking the action in. “You’ll be in the kitchen tonight.”

“What does your chef think of that?” I asked cautiously, the last thing I wanted was to piss off the kitchen.

“He’s not exactly… excited, but I’m certain he’ll come around once he sees you in action.”

“That’s a risky play.” I smiled to myself. “It’s a good thing I’m so pleasant to be around.”

Howard only smiled as he turned to attend to his duties before opening, leaving me sitting at the table with the rest of the staff as they all murmured to themselves. I kept my head down, listening to the conversations going on around me before the man from earlier moved from his seat and dropped his dishes in front of me. I looked up at the now smug and smiling face giggling down at me. The Russian slid from his tongue smoothly, naturally, “Wash these, dish bitch.”

I looked back down as his friends piled their dishes on top of his, clearly amused by his antics. With a soft hum I finished the wine in my glass and stood, grabbing the dishes as I did, smiling at the stranger. “Since you asked so nicely.” The crude amusement dropped from his face the second he heard my reply in his native tongue. I gave him a pat on the cheek as I passed. “I’m a bitch with lots of tricks.”

As I walked toward the kitchen I could hear the loud ruckus of shock and awe behind me as the bald man reacted to the little I’d given him. The kitchen doors swung open, revealing Howard speaking to a very angry looking asian man whom I could only assume was the chef. I slid past them and toward the back jumping into washing the dishes I’d been carrying. The young man beside me regarded me with wide eyes as he held his hands out for the pile. “I can wash these.”

There were plenty of dishes already sitting in the sink, a pile that would only grow when everyone else decided to clean up after themselves. “Between the two of us this will go by quickly.” I smiled, diving into the dish pile. “Are you fast?”

“Fast?” He asked, nervously curious as he began tensely working beside me.

“At washing.”

The man chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

“Want to race?”

He nodded and for a few blissful minutes of nothing but simple dish washing and a low stakes wager I felt a spark, old and long dwindling, pulse to life in my chest. I’d really missed this. Being part of a kitchen wasn't unlike being part of a family, and though I had a family, blood and not, a part of me had been longing for this specific kind of closeness.

When there were only a few dishes left the man held his wet hand to me. “I’m Santos.”

“Lena,” I replied, stacking my last dish and shaking his hand. “It’s been a pleasure washing dishes with you.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to help, but you did and I…” he smiled. “Just thanks.”

I bumped his shoulder with mine. “We’re a team, aren’t we? Teammates help each other out, even when they don’t have to.”

“So, you gonna be back here often or are you one of the servers?”

Looking back at the still pissed off chef I sighed. “Guess I should go find that out, huh?”

He glanced at the chef and made a face. “Good luck.”

Moving through the bustling kitchen I stood across the table from the chef and smiled. “I’m-”

“I don’t give a shit who you are,” he said, harshly. “Howard is insane if he thinks I’m just going to let you hop on the line and fuck up my shit. Are you even qualified to work in a kitchen?”

“I am,” I assured him, straightening my back. “You can put me on vegetables or something low risk until you think I can handle it but I promise I’m not here to slow down service, Chef.”

The man hummed, watching me closely with narrow eyes before he nodded to an open station. “You start there, but don’t get too comfortable because I’ll be watching. One mistake and you’re out.”

“Yes, Chef.” I moved to take my place, examining the workstation and the knives to make sure they were sharp and ready for the long night of fast paced service ahead. I took a deep breath, anticipation settling into my gut. Time to swim.

Jake was paying far more attention to his surroundings than he usually did. On a normal night he’d only really pay attention to the bar and the suckers that sat at it looking to drown their sorrows or be wowed by some flashing handwork and a decent drink. Anything beyond the long counter of bottles and ice was practically dead to him, but tonight was not a normal night, not anymore. Jake watched the kitchen doors, his head turning every time they opened hoping to see that flash of red hair and that bored face, but he never did.

Nicky chuckled at him the fifth time he turned. “She’s in the kitchen tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” Jake asked softly. “She on dish?”

“Line,” Nicky replied, meeting his expression of disbelief with a nod. “Apparently she’s killing it too.”

Jake smiled, serving his drink and moving past Nicky toward the kitchen doors. “This I gotta see. Cover me?”

“You got it.”

This girl was either a great liar or she was more experienced with the environment than he thought. He slid into the kitchen, quietly moving out of the way of servers and a few cooks as he moved to get a view of the redhead. She was chopping vegetables at an intensely quick speed, head down and eyes focused on her task. Scott watched her closely for a minute with a slightly impressed expression as she interacted with the rest of the kitchen with ease. This girl was absolutely in her element here and it only made Jake’s curiosity peak more.

When Scott barked some order at her she began moving toward him, an opportunity finally presenting itself. He let her slide past, keeping his head down as he slid directly behind her forcing her to turn into him when she moved to return to her work. Green eyes burned up at him as she stepped away from his chest with a low, surprised noise. “You should be more careful about where you walk, Lana.”

She responded quietly, “It’s Lena.”

“Right,” he said, taking a step forward, pushing her back into one of the counters as he slid past. “Sorry, it’s a hard name.”

He couldn’t see her face as he moved back toward the bar with some random rag, but he could feel her eyes follow him out the door. For the first time in weeks he felt alive, this Lena would do the trick. He’d have some fun and life would go back to normal. Soon the heat from her eyes faded under a new, colder gaze. Simone watched him from across the lobby, her face set in the expected smile and softness of a server, but her eyes held something Jake couldn’t quite place. Not jealousy, not anger… concern maybe.

The night dragged on for hours, and with each passing one Scott, the chef, pushed me harder and harder in an obvious test of my skill and limitations. As the service began to slow he settled in beside me, plating the last dishes with finesse and ease. “It seems I underestimated you.”

“I don’t blame you,” I admitted. “New additions to a well functioning kitchen are always a bit hard to navigate.”

“Where’d you study?”

I shrugged. “A bit of everywhere, I was part of an… extensive program.”

He nodded, the not answer one he thankfully chose to ignore. “Why here? With your skill you could easily find a place with a higher position available.”

“I didn’t finish my schooling,” I said. “Most places hiring for back of house positions want the whole shebang of experience.”

“Why’d you drop out?”

A lump caught in my throat as I sighed. “My dad died.”

Scott paused in his plating to look over at me with a knowing look. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, he lived a good life.” I smiled, fond memories filling my mind for a moment. “But, after he died there was a lot of stuff to work out and I just didn’t have time for both.”

“Well, I don't really know you, so I can’t really say much about your character or work ethics, but you didn't suck tonight.”

I laughed and nodded. “High praise, Chef. You gonna let me stick around then?”

“Eh, why not?” He teased before turning to the rest of the kitchen. “Alright everyone, that’s the last plate. Let’s close it down!”

I cleaned my station quickly, sliding back into place beside Santos and silently washing beside him. Isaac eventually joined us, leaning beside the sink and making light conversation while we worked. “You staying for drinks?”

“Fuck no,” I scoffed looking at him with a raised brow. “The last thing I need tonight is to play twenty questions with people.”

“Oh come on, Lena! Live a little!” Isaac smirked. “Tell her Santos!”

The man beside me shrugged, clearly shy. “I mean they open the bar up. You can get some pretty decent drinks.”

“Decent drinks,” Isaac agreed. “Come on. Please?”

“Not tonight, Isaac.” I wiped the water off my hands.

My friend whined but nodded. “Tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m taking that as a yes!”

Santos and I walked to the back room together, changing in relative silence before he cleared his throat and offered his hand to me. “Have a good night, Lena.”

I shook it. “You too, Santos. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow.”

It was easy to sneak out the back door and grab a cab back to the hospital. Usually they didn’t let people in, but given the particular circumstance the nurses let me pass with smiles. “How’d tonight go?”

Lisa grinned. “I was gonna ask you that. He had a good night, though he’s being an absolute pain about resting.”

“Figures,” I joked.

“How was your first day?”

“Good,” I said simply. “Work is work.”

“Don’t I know it honey.” She gave my shoulder a squeeze as she passed. “Try and get that brother of yours to sleep!”

I smiled. “On it Lis!” The room was dark, save the light from the TV, still playing renovation shows, and the dim lights from the city outside. Peter sat up in his bed, eyes tiredly watching the TV as he repositioned his pillows. I knocked on the wall, alerting him to my presence. “Lisa’s pretty pissed at you for being up.”

Peter smiled. “She’s told me as much.” He patted the bed next to him, scooting over to make room for me. “How was work?”

“It was fine,” I said as I moved to join him in the bed. “The place hasn’t changed at all.”

“Figures. Maddie’s always been a bit set in her ways.”

“She knows I’m working there,” I said quietly.

Peter only nodded. “She is the owner, if anyone was gonna know it’d be her.”

“Yeah, she made a big show of it this morning.”

“Give ya and expensive bottle?”

“Oh yeah.”

He chuckled. “I bet everyone loved that. Did you make any new friends?”

I made a gagging noise. “New friends? Fuck no!”

Peter rolled his eyes and looked at me. “You gotta start being more friendly or you’ll be stuck playing scrabble with me every night.”

“I like scrabble.”

“You know what I mean,” he insisted.

“I've got friends, Pete.” I answered. “Prue and Quin, Isaac and Ozzy and all the others.”

“Work friends, Lena. People you can relate to about your fancy new job.”

“It’s not that fancy.”

Peter flicked my forehead. “Not the point dumbass. Just, try to make friends okay?”

I rubbed the now throbbing spot on my head. “Why are you so adamant about me getting all buddy buddy with people?”

“You’re gonna need connections in a place like 22West. I know it and so do you. It’s not the most cutthroat you’ve dealt with, but it’s still a competitive environment with plenty of people out to assume control.”

My mind flashed to Simone and her mumbling companion. “Point taken. I’ll try to be even more friendly tomorrow.”

“That’s all I ask.” He sighed, finally relaxing into the stiff mattress. “Now, how was your day?”

I smiled. "You were right. I did enjoy it a little bit."

He chuckled. "A little bit? Yeah right! Tell me about it, I'm all ears, little sis."

We only talked for a while longer before Peter dozed off beside me. Lisa poked her head in and gave me a thumbs up. As I lay beside my brother, watching the old episodes of his favorite shows I couldn’t help but smile. It was nice, being back in the swing of a kitchen… nice being reminded that life was more than hospitals and treatments and fear. I snuggled deeper into Peter's side, pulling his blankets up higher and closing my eyes. “Sweet dreams, Pete.”

The next day began much like the others. I stayed next to Peter for a while then I went home and freshened up before heading to the restaurant. This time when I entered people greeted me, the cooks were still not totally sold on the newcomer but they recognized me as someone that could at least do the job. Santos gave me a friendly wave as he prepped for a long night of dishes and grime and Scott gave me a nod as I passed by and headed up the stairs to get changed. A post it note was stuck onto my locker with Howards familiar and over the top handwriting telling me to help prep front of house this morning.

I donned the shirt and quickly made my way down to the lobby, ignoring the way everyone still stared at me as I polished glasses and began setting up the salt shakers at the tables, polishing each pair before moving to the next. Soft footsteps moved swiftly behind me and the tall blonde woman, Simone, reached over and grabbed one of the shakers to polish it. The stiff silence sent a chill of anticipation up my spine, but eventually she spoke, “You seem to be quite familiar with the intricacies of this place.”

A classic probe for information, I thought to myself as I remained focused on my task. “I have experience with this line of work.”

“Yes, Howard’s told me as much.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “What confuses me is why you’re here at all. We aren’t short staffed and truthfully Howard only interviews people for the fun of it. It’s rare that he actually hires someone, even more so that they’re hired on with no trails.”

“If you’re going to ask me what makes me special you’ll be sorely disappointed.” I replied with a soft laugh. “I’m not special at all. I’m just like everyone else that works here.”

Simone shook her head. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. Howard and the owner have expressed some kind of gratitude for you being here, that means something.”

“I know what it means,” I assured her.

“Then perhaps you could enlighten me?” Her tone was sweet, almost sickly so as she tilted her head at me.

I sighed. “Listen, I understand that my sudden appearance has disturbed the normal day to day of this place. People are bound to have questions, but I am not bound to answer them. I don't know you and honestly I am not exactly feeling inclined to pour my heart out to you and let you in on my deep dark secrets. I’m here to do the job I was hired to do, that’s it.”

She smiled, a gesture that was now clearly tense. “I’m just trying to figure you out.”

“You don’t need to figure me out to do your job.” I replied. “And I don’t need to be coddled to do mine.”

“Alright then,” she said calmly, coldly.

“Thank you for your help,” I said as I took the now empty tray back to the kitchen and set it down on the counter.

The alley was not exactly the most comforting spot to sit in, but I needed a breather and it seemed like the quietest place. Simone wasn’t unique, she was actually incredibly textbook when it came to places like this. She banked on her knowledge and position in the hierarchy of the restaurant to get her what she wanted. What that was would be more unique to her rather than some generalized whole, but given what little I could gather from her in our short conversations she was looking for control. The only question that remained was why. Control for comfort or control for power?

"Tiger!" The bald man from yesterday sang, as he stepped out into the alley with an already lit cigarette, the two women from yesterday following him close behind. "I’ve finally cornered you! Did you think you could just speak Russian at me and disappear?"

“I was hoping.”

“You speak Russian?!” He shook me with a manic giggle.

"Among other languages," I replied in Russian.

His face lit up and he put a hand over his heart. "It feels like I am home again! You sound like my mother!"

I grinned. "A compliment I hope?"

"Absolutely!" he said, waving his cigarette dramatically. "My mother is the best person in the whole world!"

“Still think I’m a bitch?”

“Oh I’m certain you are,” he laughed. “I am Sasha.”

“I'm Lena.”

He shook his head, blowing a puff of smoke out of his pursed lips. “Too plain!” He pointed to me with his middle finger and smiled. “You are Tiger Bitch now.”

I laughed and shrugged. “Beats dish bitch I guess.”

Sasha wrapped an arm around my shoulder and gestured to the two women smoking beside him. “These lovelies are Ari and Heather.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, offering up my hand.

The first woman, Heather, shook it with a kind smile. Her tight curls bounced as she shifted on her feet. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

The second laughed. “I will never forget the look on Simone’s face when you told her to fuck off.”

“She didn’t say that,” Heather said quietly.

“No, but we all knew that's what she wanted to say,” Ari argued. “Simone certainly read between the lines.”

I breathed out a soft sigh. “I’m guessing she’s not going to just let that go and leave me alone now?”

They all laughed and Sasha shook his head. “No, she’ll likely pester you twice as much now to try and get her little know it all prissy claws into you.”

“Great, that’s just what I need.”

“Oh don’t pout Tiger Bitch,” he cooed, stroking my hair. “If I had to bet on anyone being able to go toe to toe with her, it’d be you.”

“You just want to see a fight.”

He shrugged, mischief shining in his eyes. “I’m Russian. We always enjoy a good fight.”

Heather rolled her eyes. “It’d hardly be a fight. Simone has too much of a hold on things here. Sorry new girl, but I doubt you’d make a dent.”

“I think she’d get a few good hits in at least,” Ari added, digging into her pockets. “Need a pick me up?”

“No thanks,” I answered, the now distant memories of the rush whatever pills she had on her burning in my mind. “I’ve kicked shit like that.”

Ari groaned. “God you’re just like Sasha!”

“You’re sober?” I asked the bald man beside me as he snubbed out his cigarette.

“I am!”

“It’s only been like three months!” Heather reminded him.

He slapped her arm. “It still counts! How long have you been sober Tiger?”

“A while.”

Sasha hummed, examining my face closely. “You look like the type with some really fucked up past.”

I smiled. “Takes one to know one right?”

“You’re a cunt. I love it.”

Will’s head popped out of the back door and he sighed. “There you all are. Service starts in thirty minutes, let's get a move on.”

“Bossy bossy!” Sasha hissed, embracing Will in a tight hug. “Loosen up a bit or you’ll end up like Howard!”

“Or worse, Simone,” Ari said with a snicker.

Will rolled his eyes. “Well at least they’re not wasting time smoking and gossiping.”

“You love to gossip,” Heather chided as she moved past him.

“Not when we have service to prep for.” Will sighed at the crowd and nodded to me. “Don’t let these idiots get you into trouble.”

Each of them made offended noises as we moved through the back hall toward the lobby. “Thanks for the heads up, they seem like real rabble rousers.”

Scott had the kitchen in full swing by the time I’d washed my hands and gotten ready to hop into whatever position Scott wanted me in. He nodded to me. “You’re with me tonight, newbie. Try to keep up.”

I smiled. Finally something somewhat challenging. “Yes Chef.”

It was amazing how it had been years since I'd spent this much time in the fast paced chaos that was a professional kitchen yet my mind and body still remembered every step, every skill and ingredient that it needed to. All those years of study, all the years of sweat and tears and pain that I survived just to have this second chance of sorts… It was all made worth it when that tiny spark began to burn brighter in my chest. It was worth it as I finally began to feel how much I loved this. That was why I was here. Sure, I needed to start making steady money again, but I could do that anywhere… I wanted to be here, wanted to find this passion again.

The night was busy, just like the one before and likely the one to follow, but I kept up with the rush of food and orders and plating. I kept pace with Scott, who never outright praised my work, but looked over everything I did with an approving him. This was where I belonged, a hot and crazy kitchen putting my eager and skilled hands onto the food and sending it out to a crowded lobby of rich assholes willing to blow hundreds of dollars on anything we have them.

As soon as everything was cleaned up I snuck away to my locker, changing into a more comfortable T-shirt and holding my jacket tightly. My fingers ran over the peeling letters. Jack & Ozzy's. I smiled to myself. "Hope you're proud of me big man."

"There you are!" Isaac shouted from the doorway as he stormed towards me. "I was promised drinks."

"I made no such promise!" I reminded him as I pulled my jacket on. "You convinced yourself of my acceptance."

He shrugged. "Same thing. Come on, you're staying for at least one drink."

I signed and let him tug me into step beside him. "One drink. Then I'm outta here."

"Yeah yeah," he mocked. "Could you lighten up just a little?"

"Never." I smirked. "That'd make your life way too easy."

The first night Jake had been… Disappointed. It wasn't often he stuck around too long after service, he had far better places to be of course, but he did. All to see the new girl. He wasn't desperate, not in any sense of the word, if he wanted he could go to a random bar and pick up any girl he wanted. But he wanted this one. He wanted to get that bored look to twist into something more fun, wanted to pull that red hair into his hands, wanted to see just how much she'd give up.

When she hadn't come out with the cook that seemed to be closest to her he felt an irrational sense of frustration rise up into his chest. She'd not even bothered to show up, not even bothered to grace the waiting crowd with answers to their endless questions. It was impressive, or it would have been if he hadn't been so pissed off. He had to spend that whole night listening to them talk about her, the cook giving away nothing to any that asked. Even Simone couldn't seem to stop talking about her. This girl… Lena, was something else and Jake was fucking curious.

So when she slid out of the kitchen doors with the cook on her arm he smiled. He stayed off to the side, observing her as she sat down beside Sasha and gave the group her attention. Simone had already left with Howard like she always did and so now was the perfect time to see what the redhead was really made of. He pushed himself away from the dark corner and moved around the bar, giving Nicky a pat on the shoulder as he passed.

He practically shoved her cook friend out of the way and leaned toward her with a flirty grin. "What's your drink?"

I looked up into those pretty, shallow, eyes of his with a scoff. Who the hell does he think he is? He leaned forward, the chain around his neck almost dangling as he grew closer. I shrugged, giving him my best set of doe eyes. "What can you make?"

That smug, self assured smirk grew wider. "Anything you want."

"I'll just take something simple."

From behind him Isaac rolled his eyes at me. "Something simple then."

Sasha downed his drink and slid his glass toward the man with a smile, "Make me one too Jakey."

I leaned forward against the bar, if a game was what he was looking for I'd play. It'd been a long time since I'd seen a man like him humbled. "Jake? That's your name?"

He looked up at me, self assured and smug still, but his pupils flared when I spoke his name. "Yeah."

"Where'd you learn how to mix drinks?"

"Here and there. It's all about time and practice," he said coolly. "Most people struggle more with the attitude than the actual drink making."

"But not you?"

That smile grew. "Nah, I was born for this shit."

"Hmm."

“What?” The man asked, the cocky look on his face twisting into a challenge.

“I dunno, I just don't think it’s as impressive as you say it is,” I clarified sweetly.

"Maybe not, but this takes a lot of skill, and a bit of charm for good measure. Plus you gotta be good with your hands.” He winked at me.

I resisted the urge to laugh. "You think quite highly of your skills.”

The bartender beside him rolled his eyes and served Sasha another drink. "You can say that again."

The flamboyant Jake simply continued. “I'm very good at my job.”

"How good?"

His eyes flashed to mine, drinking in the shy body language I'd molded. "Is it a show you're hoping to get by batting those lashes of yours?"

I hummed softly. “I'm just curious. Maybe we could make a bet.”

“A bet?”

I stood from my seat, Isaac shaking his head in the corner as he fought against his laughter. I moved around to join them behind the bar and looked up at Jake with a fake look of innocent curiosity. “You make a drink, I’ll watch and then I’ll make it the same way, maybe even better.”

The challenge shined in his eyes as he leaned down closer to me. It was obvious he expected me to back up, to yield at least for a moment, because when I didn’t his smile faltered for a split second. “What will this prove?"

"How complicated bartending can be, and how good you are at it."

"What do I get when I win?”

“Fifty bucks.”

“A fifty dollar drink?” He questioned with an amused noise as he mulled the offer over.

Sasha rolled his eyes. “I’m bored! Take the bet and give us a show!”

Everyone else cheered and Jake’s smile widened as he stood up straighter. “Better pay attention, I won’t slow it down for you.”

“I think I’ll manage,” I assured him, leaning against the bar and turning my eyes to his hands as he gathered up his materials and got to work.

He was a skilled bartender, the fluid movements of his hands reminded me of Ozzy in his prime. Jake’s technique had an extra flare of elegance that I could only assume he’d adopted while working here to give the rich guests a bit of an extra show. His hands curled around each ingredient he used, every drink and garnish being added to the cocktail with finesse and precision. The drink itself was one I’d made a hundred times, the technique was simple enough to replicate. I looked up at him as he shook the drink with a wide grin and a quick wink before he poured it into the glass and added the final touches.

He picked it up and handed it to me, far too cocky and overconfident. “You want to just give me the money and save yourself the embarrassment?”

I took a sip of the drink, light and fruity with a decadent aroma. “Not a chance.”

Jake chuckled and moved around the bar, sitting in my vacated seat beside Sasha. I smiled at him, sliding my jacket off the shoulders, slow and deliberately timed. His eyes shamelessly rolled down my body, fixing on the tiger tattoo on my arm with a curious smirk. Isaac gave my shoulder a squeeze as he moved past with a quick and quiet, “Try not to embarrass him too bad.”

This was going to be fun.

***

Jake settled in his seat, fixing his attention on the new girl. His curiosity rolled around in him like an ever growing ball the more she spoke. Howard had hired her on the spot, something that happened, well, never, and judging by the way she confidently jumped into the fast paced position she knew what she was doing. Still, with all that restaurant knowledge she seemed to have, she was just as innocent and easy to win over as the other women before her. This was his turf and he certainly had an easy win in the bag.

He watched her slowly remove her jacket, knowing full well the play she was throwing out, but still he looked anyway. She was attractive, soft looking skin and big doe eyes, certainly the type he was used to drawing in for some fun. The tiger tattoo was a bit surprising, bold against her skin and large enough that it was certain to be seen. She gathered the same ingredients together, and then flashed him a smile, her eyes shifting from the slightly bored and innocent to confident and fierce in a blink.

As soon as she started to make the drink he was shocked. The way she moved was mesmerizing, everything deliberate and sensual, drawing everyone's attention and praise with complete ease. She was fast, hands moving through the steps with unfaltering grace and what she lacked in finesse she made up for in her charisma and flare. This was not her first time making a drink.

“I think this is what they call a hussle,” Scott observed with a laugh as he settled into the seat beside him.

Sasha was overjoyed. “Oh I like this bitch more and more every minute!”

Once she began shaking the drink Jake couldn’t help but glance at the way her tits bounced beneath her deep cut T-shirt, and when he managed to tear his eyes away from them he was met with a wide grin and a playful wink. Fuck. He thought as an unfamiliar feeling washed over him. Sure he was impressed with her, but it was more than that… something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, a spark that could easily turn into a wildfire if he left it uncontrolled and that was something he absolutely refused to allow.

She slid the drink across the bar to him, leaning over to give him a generous view down her shirt. Jake silently took a drink, the sweetness of the cocktail washing over his tongue in an instant. Fucking… She held her hand out, batting her eyelashes as she waited. “I believe I’m owed a crisp fifty dollar bill.”

He fished it out of his jacket and shook his head with an amused scoff. “Where’d you learn how to do all that?”

With a modest shrug she folded the bill delicately as she replied, “I'm a woman of many talents.”

"And mysteries."

"Especially mysteries."She smiled again bright and mischievous, placing the money between her teeth as she pulled her jacket back on.

God damn. “It’s hardly fair to hussle a coworker on your second day.”

“Yeah, or maybe you just need to be more careful about who you bet, Jerk.” He chuckled at her use of his own words against him.

“It’s Jake.”

She clicked her tongue and held his money in between her fingers. “Right. Sorry, it’s a tough name.” The audacity of this woman… He was impressed, infuriated as well but impressed. She turned to Isaac as he walked back out of the kitchen and waved the cash around. “Dinners on me tonight. Or, I guess, it’s on the master bartender.”

Isaac shook his head. “You gotta stop hustling people you delinquent.”

"If you're gonna be uptight about it I'll share dinner with another delinquent."

Sasha's hand shot up. "Please, Tiger Bitch! I am a delinquent, take me in and let me suckle at your victorious teets!"

The new girl rolled her eyes but grabbed Sasha by the jacket and pulled him with her out the front door. Isaac hurried after them. "Wait, I take it back! Please buy me dinner!"

Jake looked down at the drink in front of him and scoffed. "Fuckin bitch."

Nicky laughed. "Never thought I'd see the day a woman kicked you down a peg. I think I'm starting to like the new girl."

"She certainly makes things interesting."

"Heading home?"

"Later," Jake said, downing the rest of the drink and standing. "I gotta brush up on my tiger taming."

Nicky shook his head as he began cleaning the bar up. "I hope she tears you up."

"Me too."

#sweetbitter jake #sweetbitter jake x oc #jake sweetbitter #sweetbitter simone #sweetbitter #sweetbitter sasha #sweetbitter howard #sweet bitter #jake x lena #nightshade

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