I am my own Absolute

ageofalejandro @ 2013-05-06T18:54:00

2013-05-07T01:54:50Z

So I haven't forgotten about LJ. Just been kinda busy and Tumblr is shiny.'

Need to finish Iterations before the next movie comes out, though.

Almost done with school!

September

2013-02-10T00:08:44Z

Title: September
Rating: T
Genre: uh?
Fandom: MCU
Series: Avengers in History
Characters: Tony, Pepper, Rhodey, Stane
Warnings: September 11th and the accompanying stuff
Summary: "Sir," JARVIS said, sounding worried. "You may wish to turn on the television."

"Sir," JARVIS said, sounding worried. "You may wish to turn on the television."

Tony blinked and frowned as he himself out of the zone and lifted up his welding mask. "Why?"

JARVIS elected to turn on the TV instead of answering, tuning into CNN just as a plane - a large one, probably a passenger jet, Tony noted - hit a World Trade Center tower. He stopped, the cold sensation of horror flooding him. "What--?"

"That is the second plane to hit a tower," JARVIS said carefully.

And so, Tony, like the rest of the country, was glued to his television. Twenty minutes after the second tower was struck, Pepper appeared at his elbow, wide-eyed and pale. "I've double security on the mansion," she said quietly, her hand over the receiver on her cell. "Obi's double security on all facilities and offices."

"Thanks," Tony said, eyes still on the screen. They fell quiet for a little while, each wondering what the fuck was going on as they watched scared newscasters make conflicting reports.

Reports are coming in that the Pentagon has been attacked---

"Fuck! Fuck, call Rhodey now!" Tony yelped, jumping up and pacing. JARVIS complied and he and Pepper listened to the rings, each one winding Tony's shoulders an iota tighter than the last, each silence between them a tiny eternity.

"Hello?" Rhodey said, picking up at last, sounding harassed and shaken.

"Are you okay?" Tony asked, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding.

"Yes, Tony, I'm fine," he said, and Tony could practically see him tugging on his left ear like he did when he was nervous. "I left the Pentagon twenty minutes ago."

"Thank god," Pepper said, sounding a little watery.

"Yeah, thank god." Tony didn't want to think about what it would be like without Rhodey.

"Listen," Rhodey's voice grew a little distant before coming back again, "I gotta take my mom's call. I'll call you as soon as I have time."

"Okay," Tony said. "But not for work!"

"Not for work," Rhodey agreed. "Bye."

"See ya," Tony replied before the phone clicked. He rolled his shoulders to loosen them a little and sat back down next to Pepper on the bench. "Christ," he muttered, rubbing his face with his hands and wondering what the final death toll was going to be as a reporter informed viewers that all commercial planes were being ordered to land. "Pepper," he said, peeking through his hands to watch footage of people leaping off the tower above the impact point and still others leaning out of smoking window, "any landing fields we have are to be opened to commercial planes."

"Are you sur--"

Tony closed his eyes before sitting up. "Yes."

"Obi's not going to like this," Pepper said, fishing through her contacts as she spoke.

Tony grunted as they watched the South Tower collapse.

________________________________________________

Rhodey called late that evening, sounding grey and exhausted. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," Tony replied, soft and somber. "How are you doing?"

"Tired. Angry. Sad."

Tony's lips twisted, a little wry. "Yeah, I bet."

"I know you said no work, but they're going to be calling in all major contractors for a meeting Friday."

"And SI will be there."

"Obi or you?"

"Both, if air traffic has resumed."

"It might," Rhodey said. "I don't know. But I am definitely taking some leave after things have calmed down."

"Mi casa es su casa," Tony said. "Any place I have, you can have the key to. Monte Carlo?"

Rhodey hummed. "Hawaii."

"You got it," Tony confirmed. "Pretty girls, fantastic climate, and kona."

Rhodey laughed weakly. "Of course coffee is on the list of attractions."

"Well," Tony replied, "what else could a guy ask for?"

"Not much," Rhodey ceded. "I'm bushed."

"You sound it," Tony said. "Want me to let you go?"

"Yeah. If you manage to get out here on Friday, we need to go for drinks."

"Have I ever turned down a drink?"

"Never," Rhodey said pointedly and Tony rolled his eyes, even though Rhodey couldn't see him. "But yeah, call me when you know if you can make it out here."

"I will. Good night, Rhodey. Sleep well."

"I'll try. And you," Rhodey added, "sound like you've been up for at least two days. Go to bed, too."

"Okay, Mom," Tony said sarcastically.

Rhodey chuckled before he hung up.

:/

2013-01-15T01:00:58Z

My best friend's mom told me to apply at her school for what she said was a reading tutor position about two-ish weeks ago. Now, she works at an elementary school and most of my experience has been with teenagers and adults, but I'm still ridiculously well qualified (certified tutor, six and a half years' experience with small group instruction, etc.).

So I did. I printed out a resume, pulled out the business duds, and went on down there to her school and dropped the resume off. My friend's mom's advice of "get your ass down there ASAP!" turned out to be very premature because they were still drawing up the program. I shrugged, turned the resume in anyway, and went about my life, keeping an eye on edjoin, the site I was told the position would be posted to.

Today, I got a call back, even though I haven't formally applied, and they ask me down for an interview tomorrow at 4pm. I was ridiculously excited. I haven't had a job in a very long time. So I agreed to the time, etc. About fifteen minutes later, I got a call from the school again and the lady was asking me to fax in my teaching credentials.

I don't have them, I tell her.

It turns out that position was actually a full teacher's position (even though I was told the position was to be hourly?), not the tutoring gig she said it was.

So yeah, no interview.

I'm choosing to chalk it up as a victory of sorts. My first brush with quasi grown-up employment, and I almost got it even without formally applying.

Fandom Snowflake Challenge, Days 1 & 2

2013-01-03T01:38:13Z

Day 1: In your own space, post a rec for at least three fanworks that you have created. It can be your favorite fanworks that you've created, or fanworks you feel no one ever saw, or fanworks you say would define you as a creator.

FYI, all of these stories contain potentially triggery shit (especially the last one, which is trigger central because it's mirror!verse). The bold/italicized/underlined links go to masterlists here on LJ (except the third one, of course, since I haven't posted TIK here), which will give you a list of applicable warnings each.

Only Moreso (Ao3): Tony Stark's decades-long struggle with Bipolar II
I think it's one of my best. It was really hard to write at times, particularly Mania and Depression, and kind of fucked me up for a while. But it struck a chord in apparently a lot other people, especially my co-sufferers, which made me super proud. What writer doesn't want that, you know?

Interations (Ao3): There are many iterations of what happened after the Narada and the Jellyfish were sucked into that black hole.
It's not finished, but I've really enjoyed writing this because I enjoy breaking hearts. And this one will, when I finish it (I will, before the next movie comes out; I'll have to!).

This is Kurys (Ao3 only): In the afterworld, Severus Snape must make his peace with those he fought in life.
I just had an inordinate amount of fun writing this (Snape and Sirius!angst and all) and it needs moar love.

Wedding of the Crocodile and the Raven (Ao3): Almost everyone had a few close allies because they were necessary to
survive, but not many had someone like Bones. He was more than an ally. He was Hephaestion to Jim's Alexander.
Incomplete but an enormous amount of fun to write (I like writing dark!fic, okay?). Also, the mirror!verse in general needs more love.

Day 2: In your own space, post a rec for at least three fanworks that you did not create. Drop a link to your post in the comments. See if you can rec fanworks that are less likely to be praised: tiny fandoms, rare pairings, fanworks other than stories, lesser known kinks or tropes. Find fanworks that have few to no comments, or creators new to a particular fandom and maybe aren't well known or appreciated. Appreciate them.

And Invasive Alien Parasite Makes Three by savoytruffle (ST:AOS, K/M)
The funniest mpreg I've ever read (although, granted, I don't read a whole lot of it). Also, this is mirror!verse savoytruffle still manages to keep them deliciously dark while making them utterly hilarious. Seriously. I love this fic.

Cowboys Lost At Sea by ayalesca: Jim and McCoy are trapped, together and alone, in a strange world made up of their memories and desires. In a world where almost anything they want comes into existence, there is no hiding from their desires, each other, or themselves.
Scenery porn, wonderfully surreal, the emotions are pitch-fucking-perfect, and there's hot sex.

How the Dementors Came to Being by catsintheattic: She was a young Veela who only wanted to be beautiful. When her body failed her, she started looking for inner beauty. Alas, her own soul wasn’t enough to make up for what she couldn’t achieve. (HP, gen)
I read this years ago and it still gives me the chills.

America's Golden ~~Boy~~ Retriever by amuly: The Avengers wake up one morning to find they all have ears and tails. Some of the animals that are a part of them are obvious, but some of them are more... odd. Much to Tony's infinite amusement, of course. (MCU, S/T)
This is...tail!fic, or whatever it's called, but it's completely and utterly fucking hilarious.

Your Fixed Point by quigonejinn: Think of it this way: identity is not a fixed point. Change eye color or cut off a finger, and only the strictest interpreter would say that a different identity, a different person, results. How much can you change about Tony Stark and still have Tony Stark? (MCU, rule63!Tony, iirc gen-ish)
The fic that got me into genderbending. Utterly fucking amazing. Tony is painful and jagged and perfect.

Loki and Toni’s Excellent Adventure in World Saving by pprfaith and reena_jenkins: In which Loki and Toni try to save the world, Steve is obnoxious, Clint has no patience for artsy movies and there are cupcakes. And issues. (MCU, rule63!Tony, Tony/Lady!Loki, C/N/C, unrequited S/T)
All the sharp angles of both characters in tact, still charming as hell.

a girl worth fighting for by beardsley: Darcy vs inexplicable courting rituals of Asgard. (MCU, Darcy/Sif)
Completely and utterly hilarious. Also made me fall in love with that pairing, which is apparently pretty rare since I can NEVER find it.

A Quiet Assignment by inlittlestars (silvernatasha): Steve had been promised a quiet assignment in New Mexico to give him
breathing room and a chance to acclimatise to the twenty-first century. The greeting he received from Dr Foster's assistant, however, was anything but calm. She was no demure dame. (MCU, S/D)
This is was actually a fill for a prompt of mine, and it is everything I wanted. Curvy!Darcy and happy sex.

Dirty Little Prince (Grind Grind Grind) by theorytale: Loki. Masturbating... sort of. In a room full of bemused Avengers. (MCU, gen)
Hilarious and dirty in the sense that it is Loki jerking off, even though you never see anything that, on a human, is genitals.

Like Pale Fire by Lirance: “Godric walked across and Salazar pulled him down, and they moved like pale fire.” Harry finds it’s all too easy to slip, and the past is bleaker than he believed. (HP, Salazar!Harry/Godric)
Bleak and achey and fucking beautifully written.

Circular Reasoning by Swimdraconian: Torn from a hellish future, Harry awakens in his teenage body with a hefty debt on his soul. Juggling his violent past, Sidhe politics, and a questionable sanity, he fights to stay ahead of enemy intrigue. Desperation is the new anthem of violence. (HP, gen)
Dark and beautifully written.

Paninaro '95 by Harmonic Friction: "Passion, love, sex, money, violence, religion, justice, death. If Dudley starts crying again, Piers might cry too, because that’s like, so opposite of how the world is supposed to go.' (HP, Dudley/Piers)
Just...surprisingly lovely. Two awkward boys, falling in love and not real sure what to do about it. I ship the hell out of these two and this was the fic that set it sail for me.

Recall Alice When She Was Just Small by Harmonic Friction: "Dudley Dursley: champion boxer, crass chav, cannibal?, bad boyfriend, good son, annoying cousin, best friend. It's hard to keep all the identities straight." (HP, gen-ish)
Really awesome character study of Dudely.

Dirty Magic by cupid-painted-blind: "Sirius picked a bad night to run away from home. [He’s got a horrible, deep, sinking feeling that he’s just like the rest of his family. They’re all a bit insane, and he feels insane right now.] (HP, gen)
Sirius feels. Including the link to the author's FFN page because everything they write in the HP fandom is fucking gold.

Stasis by cupid-painted-blind: "There is no villain. There is no hero. There is only redemption and damnation, success and failure. Regulus Black, and growing up in all the wrong ways." (HP, gen)
Same as above. Gold. Agonizing gold.

End of the Year Scoring: 13.5/20

2012-12-31T21:32:14Z

Correctly guessed:

NDAA was signed
Third world coups
Occupy survived last winter
Obama cruised to an easy victory
Ron Paul, Newt, and Huntsman had no chance
Republicans paired a fundied up Romney with a batshit insane VP candidate.
More and louder talk about civil war (and succession, which I'm gonna count since it's still "I don't want to be an American anymore")
War on women got bad
War on minorities got bad
War on the poor got pretty bad
Obama and friends used Republican corporate worship against them, even though they are just as bad
August's guess on the economy getting better came true
Spain's economy is fucked
I give myself a half point - the Petrus scandal happened. But no closeted Republicans were outed.

Incorrectly guessed:

Nasty mess at the Olympics didn't happen
Half of all Congress people didn't lose (I didn't account for gerrymandering, which I should have)
No gay scandals
No Israel-Iran crap (thank fucking god)
SOPA, et al. didn't pass
The Republicans didn't really alienate Independents

Too early:

No one will seriously tax the wealthy. The Dems ran on that and won, but I'm pretty sure this is going to be an unfulfilled promise.
unrest here in the US in the next few years

Avengers In History

2012-12-23T00:29:23Z

Expect a bunch of fic dumpage. This is a bunch of shit I haven't posted. Avengers in History is just miscellaneous little moments in history I think it would be funny or interesting to put various Avengers into.

Title: Kabul, December 1979
Rating: PG
Fandom: MCU
Series: Avengers in History
Genre: domestic, action
Pairing: Bucky/Natasha
Warning: rather casual talk of political assassinations?
Summary: Yakov and Natasha: surprisingly domestic super assassins in Kabul, in the opening years of the Soviet War in Afghanistan.
A/n:
Yuri Andropov oversaw KGB foreign covert operations and later became the general secretary of the Soviet party (and you can read more about him here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yuri_Andropov)

Haifizullah Amin was the president of the Democratic Republic of Afghanistan from September to December of 1979. The Soviets were unhappy with him and planted rumors that he was working with the CIA and he proceeded to act in such a way that they freaked out for a while and thought he WAS working with the Americans. He was assassinated by them in, obvs, December 1979 (although, because the KGB did not actually have Bucky, they were unable to take him out with a sniper (or poison) and had to physically storm his palace).

Basmachi was a term the Soviets used to describe Muslim rebels in Central Asia who (unsuccessfully) tried to resist Soviet rule after the Bolshevik Revolution in 1917.

"I don't like this," Yakov said, wiping the kitchen counter while Natasha wiped the rooms of their presence.

"Kabul? Afghanistan in general?" she asked from she was crouched behind their bags, folding up their sheets and stuffing them into Yakov's bag to be dealt with later. "Either way, do we know anyone who likes it here?"

"No," Yakov ceded. "But," he waved the dish cloth, "we're going to get bogged down here in Afghanistan. The Americans are turning this into our Vietnam. We should get out. This place is not ready for communism yet."

Natasha was glad they'd swept the place for bugs last night. She shrugged as she stood; he was certainly right - this place was called 'the graveyard of empires' for a reason. "And it won't be for a long time. But the KGB got dragged into this."

"And we go where we're sent, like good little agents."

"Yes," she said, moving to wipe their finger prints from the window they had cracked open last night so Yakov could smoke without annoying her. "We do. And right now that means we stay in Kabul until you can get a clear shot at Amin's head and I can get into his office to see if he's been working with the Americans after all."

"I don't think he has," Yakov opined, washing the crumbs from the counter down the drain with a bucket of water from the bath. "They're working through the Pakistanis and the Saudis, who won't want them to have very much direct contact with the Afghans. They want to control the outcome, if we lose. And we will."

Natasha shrugged again. "Andropov wants Amin dead and he wants the files, if Amin has been stupid enough to record his meetings with the Americans. The sooner we deliver, the sooner we can get out of Kabul."

"I know," Yakov grumbled. "This is a clusterfuck. That's all I'm saying."

"And you're right," Natasha agreed. "But at least we're not here as soldiers. We are almost done. You will kill him and I'll check his files, and then we'll be gone. With the Americans and Saudis shoveling money into the throats of these basmachi, who knows how long the troops will be here?"

Yakov made a disparaging sound and wiped his prints off the bucket before sticking it under the sink with the rag. "They'll be here until we bleed white. If this keeps up, we'll be back, mark my words, and it'll be much worse then than it is now."

Natasha sighed, scooping up his cigarette butts and moving toward the bathroom to flush them. "I know. But stop complaining and kill him so we can get out of here."

"We need you to get in first," he said, following her to the bathroom. "Unless you get in first and go through his papers, me killing him would be counter-productive. They'll just lock all his shit up."

"Yes," she agreed, washing the ashes from her hands. "My contact is probably going to give today. He doesn't like this--"

"But he does like you?" Yakov asked, leaning in and kissing her.

She hummed in agreement and pulled away. "Yes, yes he does."

"Will we have to kill him afterward?"

Natasha tilted her head as she dried her hands. "Mmm, no. I don't think so."

"Good," Yakov said, taking her place at the sink. "The sooner we get out of here--"

"The better," Natasha agreed.

Title: Kilroy Was Here
Rating: K
Genre: Gen, friendship
Fandom: MCU
Warnings: None
Summary: Bucky finds Steve doodling on the wall of a German bunker.
A/n:

This is Kilroy was here, for those who don't know.

And well, because I can't not include this part:

"According to one story, it was reported that German intelligence found the phrase on captured American equipment. This began leading Hitler to believe that Kilroy could be the name or codename of a high-level Allied spy. At the time of the Potsdam Conference in 1945, it was rumored that Stalin found "Kilroy was here" written in the VIP's bathroom, prompting him to ask his aides who Kilroy was."
I imagine Steve finding out about what Kilroy became after the war and laughing forever.

"What're you doing?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Steve in the dark of the empty German bunker.

Steve looked over his shoulder at his friend as he finished doodle on the wall. "Drawing. What's it look like?"

"A bald guy peeking over a wall?" Bucky peered at Steve's doodle as he added words beneath the figure-- "'Kilroy was here' - who's Kilroy?"

"No one," Steve said, capping his pen and tucking it a pocket. "Ready?"

"Yep." Bucky raised an eyebrow at him again. "You're not gonna tell me?"

"There's nothing to tell."

"Why don't I believe you?"

Steve smiled. "Well, okay, there's something to it. But it's just a little joke I've been leaving wherever we go."

"Why?" Bucky looked both a little incredulous and amused.

"Why not?" Steve shrugged.

Ao3 Codes

2012-12-22T21:44:30Z

Want one?

I think the worst thing I ever did to myself

2012-10-16T05:44:49Z

Was prove that I can crank out quality work in a matter of hours. I wrote a sixteen page paper in under seven hours last fall, the topic of which shifted three times, and still got an A. I've procrastinated hardcore on every essay since: lowest score thus far has been a B.

Also, power naps in the early evening before an all-nighter make it seem like it's much later than it is. This is possibly the most useful discovery I've made recently.

And now returning to your regularly scheduled programming.

AAAAH

2012-09-18T21:05:47Z

So, as ever, I have decided to massively re-write my career plan.
Instead of being a teacher, IMMA BE A FOREIGN SERVICE OFFICER.

If I can, that is. Scary fucking test (which, thank god, a web-quaintance is going to help me with because he's awesome), rigourous oral exam, security and health clearance must all be dealt with and that still doesn't guarantee me a post if I manage it.

So I'm going to be scarce between now and Feburary. I'll be on when I can, but between school and preparing for a test that, if I'm lucky, will give me the career of my dreams (seriously, this is photographer-for-National-Geographic status), it won't be as often as before.

ken_ichijouji, we should probably talk about how to handle this. I don't want to give up the modship or anything, I'm talking about the word game and stuff. Cancel it? Hand it off to someone else?

siehn, same. I know shit is tough right now and that the comm isn't very active, but I thought I should let you know so we can work things out if there's something you'll be wanting from me.

Prompts

2012-09-08T03:45:33Z

I need to get back into writing. Give me prompts: Avengers, original, history, AOS, and HP.

ageofalejandro @ 2012-09-05T10:35:00

2012-09-05T17:35:17Z

School is shaping up to be pretty okay. I'm hella tired right now (it's not even like I went to sleep very late!) and not really ready for today. But eh. I'm going home at noon because my class ends then and I have errands to run today.
I need a car. Srsly.
Also, this is my senior year, finally. I graduate in the spring and I am very, very ready to have my BA already. I need to get my ass in gear on getting my minor all put together (peace and conflict studies) and then taking the CBEST and shit so I can get into the teaching program here. I'm a little worried about the CBEST. I'm scared of a math portion of it, even though I know it's all really basic shit and I'll probably be okay. Math is just about the only subject I have struggled with, ever. And I suck at it, despite working really hard (conceptually, I get it; I just can't do it, for whatever reason). So I'm quietly freaking out about it because I'm going to need to ace the shit out of this. I had two semesters a couple years ago with really terrible grades (horray undiagnosed bipolarism!) and an awesome score would be good for getting in.
I also found out that the credential program here is bumping up from two semesters to complete to three. I'm very, very unhappy. That's an extra ~$4,500 out of my pocket for a third semester. Haet.

Anyway, I've been applying around for jobs and have broken down far enough that I'm trying Starbucks again. I quit in 2009 because my manager stopped giving me hours after I told her was an atheist and started working for Game Crazy, which sucked way more, paid a dollar less, and went under at just over the six-month mark. A lot of my friends still work for the company, though. Imma pester them a little.

AND I RETURN

2012-08-05T00:03:08Z

Oregon is fucking awesome, although it seems to be teeming with people from Canada and the Valley (including my friend's girlfriend). It was strange to run into two or three people a day who are from my area, including places in the ass-end of the state. Oregon has awesome-as-fuck beaches and even though I like +100* weather, I find myself wanting to move there.

Also, Mt. St. Helens makes creepy noises. Yawn with your mouth open (it's impolite, yes, I know). That's the sound the mountain kept making. It was kind of distressing.

Goin' on Vacation

2012-07-23T21:02:00Z

I leave Wednesday for a week-long(ish) road trip with the familial unit up through Northern California and Oregon, ending in Portland (where I shall meet up with some internet buds) before coming back home. There will be pictures. Many, many pictures.

And, obvs, I won't be available too much. I'll check my email as I can and you can still text me through LJ if you need to, but otherwise I'll be incommunicado after Tuesday night.

MCU Masterlist

2012-07-01T02:48:28Z

Steve/Tony
Only Moreso
The Paul Bunyan of World War II

Steve/Bucky
Letters Between Lovers from Faraway
Captain America and the Howling Commandos: 1943-1945

Steve/Thor
Traditional Rave Culture 101

Gen:
Stop Trying to Eat Stark

Stability

2012-06-30T20:18:37Z

Title: Stability
Rating: T
Fandom: MCU
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Beta: Liinae Kou
Warnings: Mention of a past suicide attempt
Intriguing Snippet: "You seem a lot better," Clint says, a few weeks into everything.

"Yeah," Tony says, his spoon full of cereal pausing between the bowl and his mouth. "I have been."
A/n: This is it, folks! Thanks for coming along for the ride!

Against his will, Tony finds himself liking the psychiatrist SHIELD assigns to him. Her name is Susan and she's calm, sensible, and doesn't treat him like he's pathetic (although at first Tony still thinks he is; he'd managed to fail to kill himself after all. How terribly weak).

"Can I call you Tony?" she asks at the beginning of the the first session.

"I suppose," Tony says dubiously.

She smiles and they chat for a bit (Tony figures it's supposed to put him at ease; it sort of works and he knows he has to go through this and some more therapy before he's allowed back on the team, but he's careful not to show signs of weakness) before she turns to his records, tilting her head for a moment as she flicks through it. Putting down the file, Susan says, "I see you were on an anti-depressant when you were young. What was that like for you?"
When Tony hesitates, she adds, "Were you on edge all the time? Did you have trouble sleeping, maybe?"

He hesitates again before nodding. "Yeah," he admits carefully, remembering the current under his skin he'd wanted to scratch out and the days and days of no sleep. He thinks about the overpass after dropping of Rhodey and how attractive the idea of flying off it was at the time. "It was awful."

Susan nods and launches into more questions.

Some time later, toward the end of their session, she says, "I think I might have a good idea of what you have, Tony."

"Oh?" he asks, leaning back in the chair.

"A type of bipolarism, type two specifically."

Tony frowns. "I've never heard of it."

"It's not well known," Susan says before she explains it in greater detail.

Listening carefully, Tony has to agree. The highs match what she calls hypomania and the lows match depressive episodes. Especially when she stops to ask (though not in so many words) about delusional thinking. Tony acknowledges his unreachable expectations during a hypomania are such, but doesn't mention knowing that he's a sad little monster. Weakness and body counts and lies fly to the forefront of his mind when he thinks of it; that he's a monster is not at all a delusion.

"Let's try lamictal," Susan says, reaching for her prescription pad. "I'm going to need to see you again in two weeks to see if it's working for you, okay?"

"But if it's not?" Tony asks.

"Then we'll try something else," Susan says with a smile. "There's plenty of other options."

"All right," Tony says. He doesn't like the idea of taking meds, but if it means he can get back on the team, he'll at least try it.

*

Tony figures that naturally coming out of the depression and the meds working is what really helps him (lamectial does the trick for him; a lucky hit on the first try), and the talk therapy is quite useful. It seems like it takes forever to accept that thinking he was a monster was definitely delusional; he's got a bit of a nasty past, there's no denying that, but he's not weak and he's not a monster.

"You seem a lot better," Clint says, a few weeks into everything.

"Yeah," Tony says, his spoon full of cereal pausing between the bowl and his mouth. "I have been." He's been so grateful that most people have been treating him well despite his attempt on his own life. It's put to rest a lot of the anxiety he suffered for decades. He doesn't know if that was their natural inclination or Steve's doing, but it helps all the same. (Tony was pretty blatant about his worries when they talked the night he woke up in the hospital and he knows Steve wants him to be well.)

"Can I be nosy and ask what the deal was?" Clint says, eying him curiously.

Tony searches his friend and finds no malice in his eyes, but he shifts awkwardly anyway. "No," he says. "I don't think I'm really comfortable with talking to anyone I'm not required to about it." He quirks a wry smile. "I haven't even explained it to Steve yet."

"Okay," Clint says and leans back in his chair casually. "That's fine. When are you off the bench?"

"Soon, I think. I should be cleared in the next couple weeks," Tony says. He's looking forward to that.

He spends about an hour that night turning over his conversation with Clint in his head, periodically rubbing a thumb over Steve's belly. It was being uncomfortable with the idea that he might be mentally ill - and the stereotype that goes with it - that almost killed him. Hiding and shame are toxic he decides, even as he worries about Steve's reaction to the knowledge (the era Steve grew up in was the heyday of eugenics, after all, and eugenicists tended to lock up or sterilize people like Tony ).
But he's in a position to maybe lessen the stereotype. Steve sighs when Tony brushes over his navel and Tony smiles against his neck, making a mental note to look up some organizations devoted to mental illnesses and to tell Steve anyway.

*

"So this is a really terrible time to have this talk, Steve," Tony says, petting Steve's sweaty, naked side in an attempt to soothe his nerves. "Total boner killer and there will probably be no more sex tonight. But, like, without the post-orgasmic endorphins in my system -- thank you, by the way, that was a really good one -- I'm never gonna be able to work myself up for this conversation."

Steve hmms against his shoulder sleepily and nuzzles his neck. "'Welcome. Had a good teacher. What talk?"

Tony's amused. "Last time I was in a civilian hospital? Talk you said you wanted to have but were willing to wait for?"

"Oh. That one. Yeah," Steve says awkwardly, more awake and sitting up. "Go on."

Tony resists the urge to pull Steve back down against his side, deciding to let Steve have a little distance. "I've been having spells like that pretty much all my adult life, right? But that one, that one was especially bad. Definitely the worst one ever, actually, and I was totally convinced I was a selfish monster who had tricked you into loving me, et cetera, et cetera, and---"

"What?" Steve says, confused and hurt on Tony's own behalf. "You're hardly a monster and you didn't trick me. Where did you get that idea?"

"Depressive episodes, which is what that was, are not at all logical, Steve," Tony points out. "They're entirely the product of fucked up brain chemistry. I mean, grow up attention starved and kind of abused, and then get the attention of someone like you, Steve -- you know how I feel about you -- and stupid brain chemicals are going to play fucked up tricks. Anyway, I spent a lot of time barely restraining myself from tell you about it all -- I was convinced you were going to totally reject me if I told you how much of a monster I thought was -- and then I eventually concluded I should hand Iron Man off to someone who could use it as an actual tool for good and kill myself. Because then that way hopefully no one, especially you because I love you an awful lot, would ever know that I was the saddest little monster of them all."

"None of this makes any sense, but 'an actual tool of good'?" Steve asks, confusion mixing with his distress. "What does that even mean?"

"It's probably best to accept that bipolarism - which is what this is - doesn't follow actual logic and not question that," Tony says patiently. "But, I had decided that Iron Man was at best penance because I didn't start doing Iron Man things because they were the right thing to do but as a reaction to the evil I had created. I think I read too much Kant in undergrad, possibly. And then mutilated it. Now, come here, I'm cold and you're freakishly warm," he says and tugs Steve down until he's got his head on Tony's shoulder again. "That's better. So, can we consider this talk had?"

"Sure, I guess," Steve says and drapes an arm across Tony's belly. "Tell me if it ever gets even close to being that bad again, okay?"

"I will," Tony says and means it. "That's up there with Afghanistan with 'experiences voted least desired to repeated', so I'll definitely tell you and the doctor if it starts to get that way again. Probably," he says around a yawn, "in more detail than you want to hear."

Steve shakes his head minutely. "I'd rather know than not, Tony. Don't ever worry about being too open with me on your health. Love you too much to almost lose you again."

Tony interlaces their hands over his side and smiles, eyes drifting shut. "I love you, too. Now go to sleep. You wore me out."

*

"Hey, Pepper," Tony says when he catches her alone the next time they see each other. "I just wanted to thank you."

"For what?" she asks, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and raises an eyebrow. "Besides saving your ass at every turn."

"Uh, well," Tony says. "That, of course, because you are amazing at ass saving. But also sticking with me all these years, even -- especially, actually -- during the crazy periods."

"You're welcome," Pepper says with a warm smile.

"I found out what was making me act like that, by the way," Tony says. He thinks she ought to know, given what she put up with for him (and he can never repay that debt, ever). "I'm bipolar -- uh, type two, specifically."

Pepper tilts her head consideringly and hmms. "Okay," she says. "Are you better?"

"For now," Tony says.

"Good," Pepper says with another smile. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, fill me in on what that means, please?"

*

"Why didn't you say anything?" Rhodey asks when Tony explains his illness. "You didn't have to go through this alone, you know. You always do that."

"Who else did I have to rely on?" When Rhodey starts, Tony smiles crookedly and holds up a hand to stop him. "I'm not trying to guilt trip you or anything, but with you specifically, I've always remembered the way you treated Isaac Fellman." Tony sits down in front of Rhodey and swipes a drink from his friend's soda. "Remember him? Tortured genius in the math department who had a massive breakdown before finals senior year? You never liked that I was friends with him. And it wasn't just you who did it, but I also remember how people spoke of him afterward."

"Oh," Rhodey says, playing with his straw after Tony returns the glass and avoiding his eyes.

"Yeah," Tony agrees. "He killed himself a few years after graduation. Hung himself in his crappy little apartment in New Haven and no one came looking for him until his landlord needed rent. I didn't want that. And that's what I thought I would get if I told you or really, anyone else. Although Obie saw to it that I thought that way, just as much as the way everyone treated the mentally ill, to be honest."

"That man," Rhodey scowls at his cup, "was vile."

"Mhm," Tony agrees. "Now that I look back on it, there were a few moments over the years that should have been a tip off. But anyway," Tony says and waves a hand. "bipolarism. Crazy, sometimes terrible shit. But definitely manageable."

"Good." Rhodey nods. "Have you told Steve? And Pepper?"

"Yep," Tony says. "A while ago, actually. Pepper was like, 'that explains so much,' and Steve took it really well. Much better than I thought he might, given the era he grew up in. I mean, today's stereotypes are far better than they were in the thirties and forties. At least people these days don't actively applaud forcibly sterilizing the ill."

Rhodey nods. "Eugenics."

"Yeah," Tony says. "So I was kind of nervous about it - he's Steve, so I thought there was a pretty good chance he'd react well, but sometimes I run across old school attitudes in him, like his thing about promiscuous women. Although he's over that now. Natasha beat it out of him. Anyway, he took it really well, which is the point I'm trying to make, and my nervousness about it was unnecessary."

"Right," Rhodey says, smiling at Tony's rambling. "So you're better?"

Tony nods. "There's a chance I could backslide into a swing at some point - I'll cross that bridge when I come to it - but I'm definitely stable."

"Good to hear," Rhodey replies.

Tony grins and changes the subject. "You're going to bring in your suit for me to fix, aren't you?"

"There's nothing wrong with it," Rhodey says, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course there is. You let Hammer touch the poor thing."

*

Tony drifts awake as Steve worms closer to him in their bed, shifting the comforter up off Tony enough that Steve can curl up against his back.

"Mornin'," Tony says, enjoying the hazy, warm feeling of a pleasant wake up and dragging the hand Steve's got at his waist over his side to interlace their fingers in front of his chest.

Steve noses at Tony's neck before answering. "Morning. Coffee'll be ready in a couple minutes."

That was part of the bargain. Tony sleeps regularly (as much as is possible for an Avenger) in exchange for a vastly shortened distance between his bed and a coffee machine, (it something they had sort of argued about in the past. Tony still thought Steve's 'team bonding requires team mates to see each other regularly!' was silly, but whatever, the point was moot now). Tony nods sleepily, his need for caffeine not kicking into gear quite yet. "'Kay."

Sighing contentedly against Tony's neck, Steve adds, "You did really well last night, by the way."

"Thanks," Tony says, pleasedly remembering the gala's reaction to his little speech that preceded him handing over a significant check to the Bipolar and Depression Support Alliance.

"Still going to talk about it in the interview for GQ on Monday?"

"The BDSA? Yeah," Tony says and yawns. "Got the okay from Nisreen and Jack last night. They're excited ."

"Good," Steve says and strokes the arch of Tony's index finger with his thumb.

Tony smiles and they are silent, Tony drifting in and out of sleep, until JARVIS announces the coffee is ready.

Steve leans against him for a moment and squeezes his hand before rolling out of bed. "C'mon," he says to Tony. "Coffee and then breakfast. It's Clint's turn today."

"That means waffles," Tony says and pushes off the comforter. He stretches sleepily, enjoying the sensation of pulling tendons and muscles, and stands up.

"Yes it does," Steve says as Tony rounds the foot of the bed. "Although I'm not sure Clint knows how to cook any other kind of breakfast food."

"Pancakes," Tony says, making a bee line for the coffee pot.

"JARVIS and the staff banned him from making those," Steve says, idly following behind.

"Why?" Tony pulls cup off a hook above the coffee machine and dumping sugar into it.

"He used cornstarch instead of flour. Somehow." Steve leans against the counter of their kitchenette and nudges the milk he acquired somewhere toward Tony.

Tony chooses not to question how this acquisition happened, since a) it requires more strenuous thinking than he's probably capable of right now and b) Steve has mysterious ways. Instead, he pours the milk into his cup until the coffee is an acceptable color and slurps it down immediately.

"Good?"

"Yes," Tony says, taking a second to savor the drink as he turns around to slouch against the counter next to Steve. It's kona coffee, which he keeps upstairs because otherwise Natasha will drink it all and Tony will be left with whatever crap Clint drinks. Folders or something. And Tony refuses to drink that shit when he can have kona if he keeps it away from Natasha.

"Ready?"

"No," Tony grumbles and sinks against the counter further. "Natasha will know I'm keeping kona up here if I come into the kitchen with it, and then she'll raid my stash, and I'll never have kona for more than two days again. Also, we need pants," he says and eyes himself. Now that he's mostly awake, he's becoming aware the room's chilly.

"All right," Steve says and heads back to the bedroom, probably in search of clothing. "I still don't get what's so special about kona. What happened to a good old fashioned cup of American joe?"

"Firstly, it's fucking delicious, that's what," Tony calls. "Heathen," he says when Steve makes a disparaging noise loud enough to be heard from inside their room. "And second, it is American coffee. It's from Hawaii - Hawaii's a state now, you know."

"Uh huh," Steve says as he reappears, two pairs of sweats in one hand. "I do know. Hurry up. Drink your frou frou Hawaiian coffee and put on your pants, because Thor will eat everything if we wait too long."

"Clint knows about Thor's tendency to inhale everything in sight," Tony says in between gulps (Steve can never say Tony doesn't love him; he's gulping kona). "We all know about it. It's taken into account when preparing meals. There will be plenty of waffles."

"True," Steve concedes, tying the waistband string in a bow. "But then we have to wait for more to be cooked, if Thor gets there first."

Tony takes the last sip in his cup, mourns the gulped coffee as he drops the cup in the sink, and puts on the sweats. He pushes at Steve affectionately and says, "Let's get going, princess, before you faint from hunger."

Steve rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to faint. I just want my breakfast."

"And I wanted my kona," Tony says.

"You had it."

"Not really," Tony says, punching the elevator button.

"I'll bring some down to your workshop if you shut up about it," Steve says.

"Deal," Tony says, bumping Steve's shoulder with a grin as the elevator door opens.

The Paul Bunyan of World War Two 2/?

2012-06-17T00:01:46Z

Title: The Paul Bunyan of World War Two - 2/?
Author: ageofalejandro
Beta: None (Pixie, where did you gooo?)
Rating: T
Genre: action/adventure, angst
Fandom: AU of the Marvel movie!verse
Word count: 1,424
Summary: for this capkink prompt: Everyone knows who "Captain America" is: he's the Star-Spangled Man used in all that propaganda from WWII - posters, movies, they even had some actors in costume doing fund-raising tours. Like "Rosie the Riveter" and "Uncle Sam." But there was never actually a real Cap. Right?

So who did the Avengers just pull out of the North Atlantic?
A/n: There's a little bit of era-appropriate sex negativity from Steve.

( Previously )

Steve hated the twenty first century. It was alien and upsetting and he wanted to go home, more than he ever had before. Home was Bucky and hot summer days and fellas in suspenders and dames in silk stockings and where everything was slower. At least during the war, home was always just on the other side of the sea. Now it was seventy years away and time was a much deeper divide than space.

Fury had done what he could to mitigate it. Offered him history and culture lessons (it was jarring, to say the least, that the years he still thought of as the future were everyone else's past, assuming they had been alive for it at all) and tried to ease him into the new world. It wasn't working well and Steve was beginning to suspect that maybe it was like a swimming pool; you got used to it after diving in. It was shocking and cold and weird at first, but before long you didn't notice it.

And then he found out everyone thought he wasn't real. That had been a punch to the gut. His civilian identity had been erased and there was only Captain America, a fictional light in the dark, mentioned on the same page as Uncle Sam and Rosie the Riveter in the history books. It made him so tired and angry and sad.
Steve didn't want medals or statues in recognition of his service, but he didn't think it was too much to ask to be remembered as a real person.

"So I'm supposed to meet my team today?" Steve asked Fury, crossing his arms and eying the pile of folders the other man had under his elbow.

"Yes," Fury agreed, staring at the door like an irritated cat.

"Are you going to tell me anything about them? Or give me those files?" Steve said, idly tapping a finger against his arm.

"No," Fury said. "You'll meet them soon enough."

Steve was becoming cross but chose to save his breath. He'd known Fury long enough to know that there wasn't any point in pushing when he was like this. Later he'd half suspect Fury sat on the files so he wouldn't try to flee.

After the meeting, Steve concluded Stark was utterly insufferable. He was smug, self-satisfied, rude, and arrogant, and Steve didn't want him anywhere near his team. It was going to be hard enough to create team cohesion as it was (a neurotic scientist, an ex-circus worker, an ex-Soviet assassin, an exiled god, what the heck, and of course Steve himself) and he didn't need a punk like Stark making things for difficult.

"Oh, I know what Stark's like," Fury said as they strode short distance between the meeting room and the man's office, the files finally tucked under Steve's arm. "He's a grade-A asshole. But he's useful, both as Iron Man and as an engineer. In a couple hours, he invented one of the most important machines we needed to wake you up."

Steve wasn't sure that he should thank Stark for that. "He doesn't even want to be on the team."

"No," Fury disagreed. "He does. I don't pretend to know everything that goes on in that squirrelly head of his, but I do know he wants to be on the team. He's just an emotional fuck up who can't show that he wants something that isn't selfish."

"Why is he like that?"

"A fuck up? That's all in his file, Rogers. I suggest you get to reading instead of following me," Fury said as he opened his office door and stepped inside. "Ask Romanoff if you have more questions. She wrote up most of them."

With that, Fury shut the door behind him, leaving Steve standing in the hallway alone.

All the files were, but Stark's especially was interesting reading. He had been hailed as the heir to the Stark legacy and treated like a showpony from the time he was a little kid. He was promiscuous, with scads of photos and sex tapes(!) on the internet and he was a recovering alcoholic with a history of suggested drug use (nothing concrete - his two visits to rehab were for alcoholism - but still enough suggestion to be worth mentioning). Stark was impulsive, reckless, selfish in his personal life, and frequently uncooperative. But there was also an extensive list of charities and organizations he worked with and donated to, the changes evidently wrought by his three-month stint in an Afghanistani cave, and his work as Iron Man.
He was insufferable, but maybe worth the effort of bringing him onto the team.

"I'd like a word with you please, Stark," Steve followed Stark out of the training room and pulled off the cowl. Their first practice together had been a total disaster and they really needed to work on cohesion.

"No, I don't think so," Stark said before pulling off his helmet. "I think I've had all the Captain America I can stand for today, thanks."

Steve restrained a sigh and sat on the bench against the wall, resting his shield against his leg. "I know we got off on the wrong foot. I wasn't very nice to you either, to be honest, and I'm sorry. I want to try again."

"That's unfortunate," Stark said, not looking at Steve as he peeled off a gauntlet.

God, for all that he looked like Howard, Stark was nothing like him. Steve narrowed his eyes and, despite knowing it was cruel, he went for what he knew would hurt. "Your father would have at least been willing to give it a chance."

Stark's expression flickered through a series of expressions too fast for Steve to read but then he smiled, something hard in his eyes. "Ah yes, the inevitable comparison to dear old Dad. That's always fun. Howard Stark: industrial saint. Tony Stark: biggest sinner since Eve." Stark's eyes hardened further and he smiled again. "I hate to break it to you, but that halo of his was radioactive. Maybe you should think about that," he said. As Stark turned away, he added, "And you know what? I think I liked you better when I thought you were a story."

Steve clenched his jaw as Stark walked away.

Fury pulled up a chair and straddled it as Steve glared at his dinner. "So I hear you tried to talk to Stark."

"He's impossible," Steve ground out.

"What did you say to him? Because I think I'm going to have to send him a bill for the eight doors he destroyed on the way out."

"That I wasn't very nice to him the first night and that we should try again. He refused. I said his father--"

"Whoa, whoa," Fury interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. "Never, ever mention his father to him unless you want to piss him off. Did you even read his file?"

Steve put down his fork. "Howard was a good man," he said defensively, ignoring the latter. "At least he would have tried again if we had gotten off on the wrong foot."

"Maybe the Howard Stark you knew," Fury said and crossed his arms on the back of the chair. "But that's not the same man Tony Stark knew, not by a long chalk. What did he say when you mentioned his father?"

"'Howard Stark: industrial saint'," Steve said, complete with air quotes, "that Howard had a radioacitve halo, whatever that means, and that he liked me better before he knew I was real."

"Oh yeah," Fury said, "you fucked up big time. The last part is pure Stark asshole behavior, but the other two? There's a reason people say he has daddy issues. What he meant by a 'radioactive halo' was that most people saw his father as a hero when, at home, he was the furthest thing from. He hides it well enough most of the time, but that people have almost deified Howard since he died really pisses Stark off. And radioactivity-- did Agent Fellman explain what nuclear weapons are and how they work?" When Steve shook his head, Fury said, "I'll have a link explaining it sent to you. Or a book. Whichever you prefer."

"A book please," Steve said.

Fury nodded. "All right." He stood up and flipped the chair around to tuck it under the table. "But seriously, don't mention Stark's father to him again or I'll bill you instead."

Detoxing from the interbutts

2012-06-12T01:30:20Z

Because my life pretty much revolves around fic and tumblr, and that's kind of sad. I have other things - places I want to go this summer, things I want to build, read, see, do, and write; the internet is actually kind of not helping with that.

So Imma take off until Friday. If you need to get a hold of me for some reason and we're mutual friends, you can text me through LJ, and I'll be checking my email once a day.

And also, I think it'll be hmm, Wednesdays? that are my no-interbutts days? Yes, I think so.

Only Moreso - Depression - 6/6

2012-06-11T19:15:51Z

Title: Only Moreso - Depression
Rating: M
Genre: drama, angst
Fandom: Marvel's Earth-199999
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Warnings: (this chapter) self loathing to the nth degree, suicidal thoughts, general emotional nastiness.
Intriguing Snippet: They'll find out how how weak he really is someday and he can't bear the thought. He doesn't want to disappoint everyone who has, so foolishly, placed their faith in him.And he's so very tired of pretending to be strong.
A/n: Many thanks to my beta, Linnea Kou!
ALSO, there's still one more part to this series, Stability, which is yet to come. Which will be where the actual fluff is.

Masterlist
( Previously )

Tony drifts into awareness, blinking his eyes open to find himself in a hospital bed. Fuck, he thinks a little woozily. He failed. Weak weak weak, too weak and pathetic to manage to kill himself, even with extensive preparation. Sighing, he tries to catalog his injuries: a broken leg and one hand is in a cast. Tony lifts up the neck of his hospital gown to peer down it. The arc reactor is fine, but it looks like he had some sort of surgery and oh, exciting those must be minor burns. Considering how strong that explosive was, Tony knows he got off light. He wonders how obvious it is that he tried to kill himself and supposes he’ll have to see. They’ll want to talk to him about it, if it is.
Not long after he wakes up, Steve appears and sits in the chair near the head of the bed and watches Tony for a long, silent moment. "The doctors are saying you might have tried to commit suicide. Is that true?"

Tony looks back and doesn't answer. His attempt must have been obvious, which means he's going to have to have this talk with the doctors. But he really doesn't want to have this chat with Steve first.

"Tony? Is it?"

"How am I supposed to answer that?" Tony snaps. "If I say 'yes', I'm on suicide watch and removed from the Avengers and---"

"And if you say 'no'? What then?" Steve asks carefully.

"Then I say no," Tony says and flops back, glaring at the IV stand next to his bed like it's the source of all of his problems. He'd yank it out if he didn't know Steve's presence makes it futile.

"Tony?"

Tony meets Steve's eyes and thinks. He says, "I don't want to be on suicide watch or kicked off the team, Steve. Or be treated like glass."

Steve takes it for the yes that it is and reaches forward to intertwine their fingers on his uninjured hand. "I won't treat you like glass or kick you off the team, although you're gonna have to talk to the doctors about this. But why, Tony?"

"I'm not going to say. It'll hurt you," Tony says and sighs when Steve frowns.

"Why would it hurt me?" Steve is giving him a sad, searching look.

Tony chuckles. "Explaining why it would hurt you would also hurt you."

"So you're not going to tell me?" Steve asks.

"No," Tony says and has to bite his tongue so he doesn't explain he was doing it to save Steve pain in the long run. That's clearly not going to happen and his weakness is just waiting to be found; he’ll try to protect it as long as he can, though. "There's a reason, Steve. I know it doesn't make sense to you but from where I'm sitting, it's the best answer."

"....All right, if you don't want to talk to me," Steve says quietly as he gets up, "I can accept that, I guess."

"No, stay," Tony says when Steve tries to take back his hand. "Please? I'm sorry I can't tell you but please stay. I don't want you to go." When Steve stops trying to wrest his hand away, Tony idly rubs his thumb along the arch of Steve's index finger. "It's not that I don't trust you or love you, or whatever you're thinking, because I do, it's..." he trails off and closes his eyes for a moment. "It's complicated and hard to explain and someday I can maybe explain it to you, but I'd like to talk to someone else first so I don't word vomit on you and make it worse." He opens his eyes and looks up at Steve. "Does that make sense?"

Steve nods and sits back down. "Yeah," he says. "Whenever you're ready, Tony, but we're having this conversation."

Tony smiles and squeezes Steve’s hand. He can probably put it off long enough for it to be too awkward to bring up and he’ll have to outwait the suicide watch, but maybe he can try again before then, too. Maybe he’ll fucking succeed this time, instead.

Only Moreso - Depression - 5/6

2012-06-08T03:56:30Z

Title: Only Moreso - Depression
Rating: M
Genre: drama, angst
Fandom: Marvel's Earth-199999
Pairing: Steve/Tony
Warnings: self loathing to the nth degree, a suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, general emotional nastiness.
Intriguing Snippet: They'll find out how how weak he really is someday and he can't bear the thought. He doesn't want to disappoint everyone who has, so foolishly, placed their faith in him.And he's so very tired of pretending to be strong.
A/n: Many thanks to my beta, Linnea Kou!
ALSO, because it cannot be said enough: trigger warning: this is where Tony attempts suicide!

Masterlist
( Previously)

Tony's always been tactile, even before they were together, so initially Steve had taken the clutching hugs as a sign that maybe Tony was coming back to himself. He let Tony tuck his face against Steve's shoulder, let plaster himself against Steve's chest, arms looping around his neck, and he let Tony hold him for as long as he wanted. When Steve figured out the hugs said I need to know someone cares about me, please, I need human contact, it stopped being a semi-pleasant indulgence and became something else, a wordless reassurance that Steve loved him.
That seemed to make things worse; soon after Steve realized what they said and responded accordingly, Tony's touches become much less frequent. When Tony seemed to break down and need the touch, his embraces were even more desperate and intense and they began to say I'm drowning and I'm too far from shore to save myself.

Steve realized he didn't know how to save Tony from himself.

It's a first and only, but Tony's actually grateful for his past as a weapons developer right now. It means he knows his way around explosives and if there's one thing his creations are, it's efficient; there won't be anything left. Which is preferable, he decides as he fiddles with JARVIS's code. They'll all be glad there was nothing to bury after they find out what he is.

Tony finds that he's missed Malibu more than he realized. He's missed the sunshine and the cool of the Pacific and the briny smell of the sea wafting in through open windows and it all hits him when he walks out on his patio for the first time in years. If he planned to live beyond the end of the week, he'd start thinking about moving back here someday when he's too old to be an Avenger. Yeah, he can see that, he thinks with a wistful smile. Spending his days in the lab and his evenings curled up with Steve, if Tony were to ask him to stay for Tony's twilight years (although Tony doesn't think he'd try; aside from being a monster who will be dead by Wednesday, he doesn't think it's fair to ask Steve to spend years watching him grow old and die while Steve stays young).

Steve interrupts his train of thought by approaching him from behind and wrapping his arms around Tony, sighing contentedly as he easily tucks his chin over Tony's shoulder. "It's beautiful," Steve says quietly.

"Yeah." Tony watches the swoop and drive of birds over the sea and rests his head against the side of Steve's. "One of the reasons I bought this place was the view," he says. It's a grand, sweeping vista over the green of the ocean and the yellow and muted greens of the land around it, and the house hangs over the edge of the cliff. Tony's fallen asleep many a time to the sound of the waves washing at the rock below and it's one of the reasons he loves this place. He hopes, he knows in vain, that Steve will appreciate the Malibu house even after Tony's gone. He'll have to rebuild part of it, but god knows that he'll be able to afford it with the portion of Tony's fortune he'll inherit.
Tony loves him, but he wishes Steve hadn't come along, he thinks again as he turns around in Steve's hold and sighs against his collarbone. Steve's a variable he's had to recalculate for and he knows that, at best, he can only control for Steve's actions about sixty percent. It's not enough for Tony to be comfortable by a long chalk, but he'd been unable to tell Steve no when Steve had asked to join him.
If Tony were a stronger man and had done the right thing by pushing Steve away, this wouldn't be a problem. Steve wouldn't have thought to ask to come along. But Tony is weak and here they both are. God, Steve is going to hate him so much for all of this. He tucks his head beneath Steve's chin for a moment. So terribly weak, he thinks again and pulls on his everything's-okay mask.

Steve holds him close for a while and then pulls back. "I know you've been saying the East Coast doesn't know Mexican food from a hole in the ground--"

"--And that Clint's Tex Mex is an abomination?" Tony asks brightly.

Laughing, Steve nods. "Why don't you show me some real Mexican food, then?

"Sure," Tony says. It's the least he can do for Steve, who tolerates so very much from him for so tainted little in return. "There's a place about an hour away I think you'll like."

"Oh, I don't want to put you out just for dinner!" Steve says, fanning his hands over Tony's hips. "That's so far!"

"In California," Tony says with amusement, "we don't measure by distance but by time; that's really not that far away when you factor in LA traffic. But even if it were," he says and drapes an arm around Steve's shoulder, "I'd do it for you." Steve flushes adorably and Tony aches when he thinks again about how much he loves Steve and how much Steve is going to hate him soon.

Steve smiles, a little bashful, and nods. "I'll take your word for it."

"Good," Tony says, finding, to his surprise, that he can smile genuinely. "Wanna go now?"

"Sure," Steve says and lets Tony lead the way down to the garage.

El Gallo is as excellent as Tony remembers and Steve loves it. Inexplicably, he really likes menudo.

"It's organ meat." Tony says, wrinkling his nose.

Steve raises an eyebrow, his fork pausing between plate and mouth. "There is nothing wrong with organ meat."

Tony makes a face and goes back to his chile relleno. "I'm chalking that up to the Great Depression's limited menu."

"You do that," Steve says and eats his forkful with gusto. "It's still delicious."

Tony shakes his head. "Anyway, you should go to an exhibit with Pepper Tuesday evening - I already asked and she's got tickets for a gallery opening she thinks you'd like."

Steve frowns a little. "I -- don't get me wrong, I love Pepper and I think she's amazing -- but I came to be with you."

Maybe Steve and Pepper will get together after he's gone. They'd be a good couple, Tony thinks. "I know," he agrees. "But I came out here for work. I'm gonna be working with the R&D guys until fairly late, like I said before we left, and there's a lot to do here -- stuff you can't get in New York -- that you shouldn't miss out on because your boyfriend is buried in his lab all day."

"Maybe you could come with me?" Steve asked, his eyes big and hopeful.

Tony shakes his head. "But maybe we can come out here on vacation sometime soon." His breath catches on the lie. There will be no soon.

Steve must catch a whiff of something in his words. "Yeah, that would be nice. Maybe in a month or two?" he asks, eyes uncertain.

"Sure." Tony nods. "We can do that. I'll even brave Disneyland, if you want it. Now," he says with a grin. "Dessert here or on the way home? They do magical things with a churro here."

"What's a churro?" Steve asks, allowing the subject change.

Tuesday evening comes and Steve is safely ensconced with Pepper for at least until midnight. Tony has been jittery and on edge since he got up, trying to hide his growing agitation as the day goes on. Today is the day he's going to end it, he thinks sometime around three in the afternoon. There's a definitive end in sight.
That's a sobering, steadying thought. He can feel the calm it brings flowing through him and he runs through his mental checklist again. Codes for the suit and for JARVIS are tucked away in his 'in case of death' folder in his server (which will be unlocked by JARVIS when Steve tells him), his will is totally updated, and all the other loose ends are taken care of for both the company and the Avengers. The explosive - the way he's chosen to go out - is all set and JARVIS is set to 'forget' everything that's happened for the last few hours and to erase all set-up tracks from his databases (complete with dummy footage that shows it to be an accident) as soon as the bomb goes off, leaving him -- and therefore everyone else -- totally unaware that this was premeditated. Steve is none the wiser and they parted ways this morning on a good note, and he's talked to the other people who matter most to him already (Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and Bruce) in the last few days.
Nodding to himself, Tony goes back to work.

"Steve," Pepper asks, eyes on the road as she drives them to the gallery, "has Tony been acting worryingly odd, lately? Because when he and I talked Sunday night, it felt like he was saying good bye, and the last time he sounded like that, he was dying of palladium poisoning."

"Yeah." Steve nods, shifting uncomfortably. His stomach has been knotted all day and he has a bad feeling about this. "He has. Everything was okay when we got up, but when I left it felt like that, too."

Pepper glances at him quickly. "We should skip the opening, maybe?"

Steve sighs. "I think so," he says.

Sliding into the next turn lane, Pepper flips a u-turn and makes for the Malibu house.

Well, Tony thinks as he takes a sip of his sixth whiskey and eying the clock. It's nine thirty, which is a good a time as any. Tony picks up the remote and presses the button, watching the count down blink. Here goes everythi--

They wind their way up the long driveway to the house, going as fast as Pepper dares on the switch back road she hasn't regularly driven in a couple years. They crest the last rise to the house just in time to see the house be rocked by an explosion.

Pimping a New Comm

2012-06-08T02:11:03Z

steve_bucky. Come join us. :D It's a new little baby comm and the more the merrier.

OH HAI

2012-06-07T20:36:48Z

Brief introductory shit: I'm twenty three, a history major in California, and I have too much time on my hands. I write lot of fic but my updates tend to be very irregular and I write more slash than anything else (although I do have a gen tag, too)

Quick links:

IRL rambling here

Political rambling here

Masterlist of masterlists here (includes fandoms I've written too few stories for to have their own list)

MCU masterlist

Star Trek AOS masterlist

Harry Potter master list

Gen tag

Pic spam tag

Icon tag

Fic update tag (in case you have some sort of morbid curiosity as to where I am in producing an update for a story you're following)

Absurd fic tag (in case you need lulz)

Other places to find me:

Tumblr

Twitter

Comms I mod:

mccoy_and_kirk

steve_bucky

darcy_steve

If you wanna friend me and we don't know each other, comment here and I'll add you!

Ao3 Invites

2012-06-02T23:22:19Z

I have ~~eight~~ seven Ao3 invites left! Who wants one?

Only Moreso - Depression - 4/6

2012-05-23T23:36:00Z

Title: Only Moreso - Depression
Rating: M
Genre: drama, angst
Fandom: Marvel's Earth-199999
Pairing: Steve/Tony (developing relationship)
Warnings: self loathing to the nth degree, a suicide attempt in part five, suicidal thoughts, general emotional nastiness.
Intriguing Snippet: They'll find out how how weak he really is someday and he can't bear the thought. He doesn't want to disappoint everyone who has, so foolishly, placed their faith in him.And he's so very tired of pretending to be strong.
A/n: Many thanks to my beta, Linnea!
ALSO: This is a very heavy chapter. This and the next section are the bottom of Tony's deep dark well and it is writhing with monsters. If suicidal thoughts do terrible things to you, you should probably come back for chapter six and the final part of the series, Stability.

Masterlist
( Previously )

Iron Man isn't enough to make up for Tony Stark. It isn't. Tony Stark is petty, vicious, juvenile, incompetent in all the ways that matter, responsible for the deaths of more people than he can count, and weak. That Iron Man saves lives doesn't make up for his sins. That he used Iron Man to blow up all the weapons he knew about in Afghanistan means nothing in the grand scheme of things, especially since he went there for Yinsen's sake. Iron Man is penance, not a true expression of goodness. Tony's not going to stop being Iron Man (this is entirely selfish: being an Avenger is one of the bright parts of his life besides Steve and upsetting his investors), but it’s an ultimately meaningless gesture.

Tony wonders if there's a god out there who has written down the name of every person his weapons have killed, if they have a list of every person maimed by something with his name on it. Tony hopes not. Those lists would be easily hundreds of thousands of names long. And he's responsible for each and every entry. Each is a black mark he'll never be able to scrub away, not even if he takes steel wool to his flesh until he bleeds himself dry. Every entry represents dozens of lives destroyed. Mothers burying their children, children burying their entire families. How many people have suffered at his hand? Aside from the three months in Afghanistan, Tony's never known true hardship. And even then, he got off light because he was useful. No one took an electric drill to him or otherwise got inventive. Just waterboarding. Tony pushes back memories of I'm going to die I'm going to die I'm going to die I don't want to die and cold, stinking water.

There were no excuses for continuing the weapons development when the company was his. He could have -- should have -- changed gears after he took the helm. Back before he'd had the truth of what his weapons did shoved in his face and into his chest (Tony thinks he shouldn't have needed that because he's always known, at least abstractly, what the practical reality of what SI weapons do is, but he knows he wouldn't have turned around if it hadn't happened; it’s yet another sign that Tony's irredeemable).
Everyone's known for decades that there's only so much oil. Why didn't he pursue green energy from the start? (Tony knows why; weapons was what he inherited from Dad and he was too comfortable to fight to change it. Military money is easy money, after all, and he's always been too selfish to want to change things until it's fucked up beyond all redemption).

Sometimes Tony will see Steve and he'll have to fight the urge to curl up against the reassuring bulk of him and spill everything. He wants to tell someone so badly but he can't because he needs people and he doesn't want to hurt Steve unnecessarily (which is what will happen if he does give in to that urge. Steve will hate that Tony used him by taking comfort in his touch while Tony told him he was a monster. It will be better if he finds out how bestial Tony is when Tony's not touching him).

Steve -- and everyone else he knows -- would be better off if he weren't around. He can give Iron Man to someone who can legitimately use it for good and disappear in the cleanest, most permanent way possible.

Tony starts planning and he does everything he can to prevent anyone from figuring out what he's going to do. There are no notes for himself, no mention of 'I am going to kill myself' to anyone, nothing he thinks could be taken as weird or as wrapping up his affairs, because they'll try to stop him or it'll lead to them finding out what he is. Tony doesn't even drink more than usual despite the fact that he desperately wants to.
The details of how this is going to work are difficult: he doesn't want anyone he loves to come across him when he's dead (because they don't know yet, it's going to be hard enough for them when he dies without them walking in on his corpse), he wants it to be quick and clean enough to leave either a funeral-presentable body or none at all, and ideally, he wants it to be in a way that won't make people think it's a suicide (the media vultures would love it if he obviously committed suicide -- poor little rich boy kills self, see A10 for details! -- and he doesn't want everyone else to have to deal with that).

Right. That's easy enough to come up with, he thinks sarcastically as he updates his will (which is fortunately, something he's taken to periodically doing since becoming Iron Man, so it raises no alarms). But where there’s a will, he supposes, there’s a way.

Clint Barton hasn't known Tony for very long -- only since the beginning of the Avengers -- but one of the things he knows about Tony is that the man is all sound and motion. Even when he's sitting still and concentrated on schematics, he's still a million little noises and movements: a chuff of air, a little grumble of irritation, a grin or a scowl. It's how he makes himself the larger than life figure the world knows.

But of late? Tony has been quiet as the grave and still as stone. He seems slump-shouldered and small for the first time in the entirety of their acquaintance.

They see him around the house less than ever (that they see him at all Clint attributes to Cap) and he rarely speaks unless spoken to. But even when he talks without being prompted, it's usually something like a quiet request for someone to pass the salt. He never makes eye contact with anyone but Cap, he's always pale, and there's something hesitant about him, like he's almost unwilling to breathe in case it draws attention to him. Everything about Tony says he doesn't want anyone to notice him.

The thing of it is, is that Tony's made sure that everyone notices him for years, and his shrinking withdrawal is like someone sucked all the air out of a room. It's impossible to miss.

Clint overhears Bruce quietly ask Tony, "Are you all right?" one day over post-battle pizza.

Tony, who has been silent and staring at the table instead of talking all meal long, flushes but doesn't look up. "Yeah. Just tired."

Clint doesn't believe him, and neither does Bruce, from the look on his face. Bruce scoots forward and lowers his voice even further, and Clint can't catch what he says to Tony, but Tony says, "There's nothing wrong, Bruce. I'm just tired, like I said." With that, Tony drops the pizza he's been picking at for the last half an hour and gets up. "I'm going to bed," he says and all but runs out of the room.

Bruce sighs and when Cap comes back a little while later, he says, "I didn't mean to chase Tony off."

Cap rubs his face tiredly and takes Tony's seat, quietly quizzing Bruce on the conversation (Clint thinks anyway. He can't hear them over Natasha and Phil bickering over Russian literature) before sighing himself.

"And then he said he was going to bed," Bruce says.

"Which means he's retreated into the depths of the house." Steve rubs his face again and gets up.

“Steve,” Bruce calls, eyes wide with concern. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says, sounding tired as he looks down the hall Tony has disappeared into. “Or what to do about it.”
Steve goes after Tony.

Pic Spam! RDJ and Karl Urban Appreciation

2012-05-17T01:13:20Z

Arabic is giving me a massive headache (what the fuck is a lunar khamsa? Why do I lack notes on this?) so Imma do a pic spam, mkay? Ok.

peachsodapixie this is for yooooooou (and also for me, but mostly you!)

RDJ (how so pretty?)
His hair. I just want to pet it.

I know this one made the rounds on Tumblr, but it will never not be funny.

Also, because I can:

Disgruntled RDJ is disgruntled
.But here are RDJ's kitties! (with bonus Scarlett Johannson)

I'm not actually sure how he manages to be so pretty even grimy. But he does.

Bonus Steve in a tub!

I will probably do a couple Avengers cast pic spams in the near future. Like the next two or three weeks.

Karl Urban

Card Captor Karl!

School, Avengers (again), and Summer Plans

2012-05-12T18:28:02Z

Horray! Two finals left! Arabic and humanities! After which I am free! Feeling pretty good about Arabic, although I'm trying to find the energy to give a shit about humanities. The teacher's atrocious - I swear to fucking god he's awful. Misogynistic and he likes to talk about contemporary politics during class time (humanities of Classical Athens, you fucking turd). Also, he talks out of his ass a lot about issues outside his field (he has no idea what ethnocentrism is, for example).
Ugh.
Did get to do an instructor evaluation for him, though, which should bring all of this to the department's attention. And hopefully something will happen regarding that.

I'm gonna go see the Avengers again tonight with one or both of my sisters and I won't be drunk off sleep dep this time. Expect a more thorough post about it. I also have done what I tend to do when I find a new fandom and loaded up on prompts (I do have a beta now for Only Moreso, too, which is awesome). As soon as I finish this post, I'm gonna go write for some of it though (needs to be dark and something I can flex all my muscles on) and then work on some other prompts. Today is kind of my fuck around day before I get to reading for the fucking humanities class, so I'm going to take advantage of it.

Plans for the summer:

hiking/camping
make my old laptop into a tablet (I need to figure out/replace whatever's wrong with the plug first though)
try to make a clap-on-clap-off thingy for a hanging lamp I have with an Audrino. I have to see if they have a code for it first though.
do some repair/repainting of my book case.
get back to running! For something I love so much, you think I'd do it more haha.

There will be pictures (as always, lol).