#'why is your name tony pepperoni' came to me in a dream

[shigayokagayama]

[green-angst-and-ham]

Pepperony Medieval au when Tony was bastard son of Lord Stark and Blacksmith and Pepper would noble's daughter

Anon, I am so very, very sorry it took me so incredibly long to answer this. As I explained in my last post, there were some...technical issues. (Also I’m a moron). Anyway, I hope this is worth the wait! This is my first prompt fill, and I’m still sort of getting a feel for writing these characters, so definitely let me know if anything feels weird or OOC. To the two lovely people still waiting on me to fill their prompts, those will definitely be coming shortly, now that I’ve gotten my act together.

There were very few things for which Lord Anthony Edward Stark would risk the wrath of his father. But those few things were well worth the risk, as Tony reminded himself each time he veered his horse off the beaten trail and into the thick woods surrounding the Potts family manor.

He abandoned his horse the moment he came within sight of the castle; the stealthier he could be, the longer this great secret was likely to be kept. And keeping it was of the utmost importance. Not so much for his own sake,  but for hers. He was a bastard son with a poor reputation and far more enemies than friends; he had little left to lose no matter what he was caught doing. But she was a lady of quality, heiress of all her father’s lands, and the world they lived in tended to place far more fault on a woman’s shoulders than a man’s in any situation, regardless of who was truly to blame.

A risk. It was a risk, but it was a risk worth far more than most, and their hearts would not allow them not to take it.

There was no candle burning in her window, nor had he expected there to be. After all, it was not as if he could tell her when to expect his visits, and though he often stayed up late into the night, carried away on some wild idea, Lady Pepper Potts had always been more...practical. Which was why neither of them had ever expected to be where they were now, six months into a secret romance that would spell nothing but trouble for them both if ever they were found out.

After a moment’s deliberation, Tony bent down and picked up a few small pebbles. Taking careful aim, he let one fly at the wooden window-frame. Then another, and another. “Oh, honestly,” said an exasperated voice from within the room as the third pebble struck home, and Tony grinned. A moment later, the flickering flame of a candle lit up the black square of the window, and Pepper, with a cloak thrown hastily around her shoulders and her red hair disheveled, stepped out onto the parapet, shaking her head when she saw him.

“Throwing rocks, Tony? Truly, that’s how you choose to wake me?”

“It’s romantic!” Tony protested. “I saw it in a new play a week ago, some sentimental tragedy that had the whole audience weeping when the young lovers died at the end.”

Pepper raised an eyebrow. “The last time you came, you compared the two of us to Lancelot and Guinevere. Must you always liken our love to a story that ends in a disastrous early death? Because it’s hardly comforting.”

“Well, in all fairness, I doubt my father would go quite that far. Although, I admit, there are some days when I wouldn’t chance it.”

He saw her pass a hand over her mouth and knew she was trying to hide a smile. He had long since ceased talking of his father with any sort of respect, but Pepper had been brought up with better manners. She never shied from criticizing Lord Stark, but she was at least a little more tactful about it. “Come up here, you rogue,” she said, half-laughing and trying to pretend she wasn’t, “before someone hears you talking like that.”

Tony needed no second invitation. Nor did he need a rope or any other sort of aid to reach the window; the Potts castle was old, and the stones stuck out in various places. He had made this climb often enough that he knew exactly where every foothold was, and he could be quick and quiet about his forbidden visits. She was sitting on the bed when he stepped lightly through the window, braiding her long red hair. He sat down beside her, pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’ve missed you,” he said, because he always said that.

“So have I,” she answered. “You haven’t come in quite some time.”

“My father took it into his head to make himself even more unpleasant than usual over the past few weeks. I’ve had to be...cautious.”

She pursed her lips and folded her hands together in that prim, demure way that fooled everyone but him into thinking she was just another ladylike lord’s daughter. “You know I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, Tony, but men like your father make the word “nobleman” quite ill-fitting. There’s nothing noble about him.”

“There was once,” Tony said, almost to himself. She looked at him, her eyes questioning in the candlelight, and he shook off the brief moment of solemnity. He had little time with her as it was; he would not waste it with thoughts of the man who only grudgingly allowed himself to be called Father. “Besides, we won’t have to worry about him forever, my sweet.”

That was another thing he always said, at some point or another, during these visits. And she knew what it meant. “You’ve been scheming again.”

“Not scheming, Pepper. Dreaming. I was hardly born into a high place in the world, you know that. If I am to have one, I’ll have to earn it myself. Make myself someone great. So great that we would no longer have to hide our love, because no one would dare say anything about it. And I can do it, too, in time. I know I can. I’ve almost perfected a new sword-blade, something that makes steel look like parchment-“

He was speaking more loudly now, the way he did when he allowed himself to be carried away into the future he imagined for the two of them, the future he would build with his own hands. He needed nothing from his father, not his name, not his money, not his approval. He already had what he needed. A brilliant mind, clever hands, and a woman who saw the heart beneath it all.

“Someday, Tony,” she said softly, laying a hand on his arm. “For now, better a secret than nothing at all.”

“Sometimes I wonder if it’s still a secret,” he said, turning back to her and once again shaking off his somber thoughts. “Or if they’ve all noticed our incredibly obvious feelings for one another and are just waiting for us to come out with it so they can reveal we’re not as stealthy as we think we are.”

She shook her head in exasperation, but she was smiling. “For a man so brilliant, my dear Lord Stark, you certainly do talk like a fool sometimes.”

“Which is only to be expected, my dear Lady Potts, for I’m a man in love. Men in love are always fools.”

[tonyspepper]

Pepperony Week 2019: ↳ day 2: sharing a bed · this is set post-im2, not long after their kiss.

Read on AO3

For years, Pepper had been wondering what would happen if they ever kissed, how it would feel. But the thought of what would happen next, had never crossed her mind. Now that it had happened, and she had kissed Tony Stark, she was wondering about a lot of other things.

Would she spend the night with him? And if she did, what was it like to wake up by his side in the morning? Would she feel like one of his one-night stands, even if they didn’t sleep with each other tonight? Was he even capable of sleeping in the same bed with a woman and not having sex with her? Did she want to have sex with him? Of course she wanted to, just maybe not right away. Could she even resist him, though, if he tried to sweet-talk her into it?

She had seen Tony fully naked once, accidentally not intentionally. Back then, when she still thought he would never be more to her than just her self-centered, annoying boss. She had walked in on him, masturbating, and it had taken her quite a while to push that disgusting image to the far back of her mind. But things were so different now. She was not going to be disgusted by seeing him naked, she would be turned on by it—how could she not be. But it still felt strange to even think about it.

After all these years, it just seemed so surreal that she was finally going to have sex with him. That she could have sex with Tony if she wanted to, because they had kissed on the roof, and then they had eaten dinner together, chatting and laughing. And now he was doing this thing of playing with her fingers as he held her hand, tracing circles on her palm with his thumb while he stared deep into her eyes—a thing only people who were in love did. She had been waiting so long for this moment, it didn’t seem real.

“You’re, uh... You’re gonna stay the night?” He cleared his throat and felt suddenly flush as he shifted in his chair. “I mean I can take you home if you want… Or you can just go home by yourself. It’s fine. I was just thinking that, um, maybe you’d... like to stay here... with, uh... with...”

“I’d love to stay with you, Tony.”

Pepper bit her lip, her eyes widening as she realized the delight springing from the sound of her voice. He felt the kick of her pulse beneath his fingers. Smiled, as he laced his fingers through hers, intent on holding on for as long as she’d let him.

This wouldn’t be the first time Pepper spent the night. She had crashed at his place quite a few times. She had her own room, more or less, a bunch of extra clothes in the closet, as well as a whole drawer full of cosmetic products in the cabinet of the guest bathroom. But this was different.

Tony didn’t want her to sleep in the spare room, no matter how much she had made it her own. He wanted Pepper to sleep with him. Well, next to him. He wanted them to share a bed. Did she snore? Man, how adorable would that be? He couldn’t wait to find out.

“So, why don’t you go upstairs and, you know, do your... thing... get ready for bed, and I will clean up this mess and then when I’m done with my night routine, uh, we can...” He blushed deeply, smiling coyly.

“You really have a night routine?” Her smile twisted into a smirk. “Isn’t that a little boring to you? You know, doing things the same way every single night?”

Tony let out a silent breath. She was teasing him. Thank God. That meant he wasn’t doing anything wrong. One hour in a serious relationship and he was already scared to fuck it up. They were in a relationship now, weren’t they? Because everything that had happened after their kiss on the roof definitely felt like they were checking things off of a couples bucket list.

Thinking, Tony looked down at their intertwined linking, him still holding her hand. Spending this evening with her, talking to her, watching her laugh and smile at his words, was the kind of meaningful bonding he had always wanted them to do. It just had taken him an awful lot of time to realize and admit that. And that kiss... Kissing her had never felt weird. He had just been so worried that she regretted it. That’s why he’d said it. He’d wanted to give Pepper a way out. But then they had kissed again, and they could kiss even more now.

They could do so much of that lovey-dovey stuff that couples did which he hadn’t even thought of before; which he thought he didn’t even want to do. He had wondered, once or twice, what sharing a bed with Pepper would feel like, how it would feel to hold her in his arms while he drifted off to sleep.

But now he was thinking of how it would be to just watch her, stare at her sleeping beauty for hours. And with that thought, his heart started beating even faster, and he could not focus his thinking at all.

“Tony?” Pepper softly called out his name, and when he looked up at her, she was smiling shyly, her head tilted to one side—right, he still owed her an answer to her question.

“I really don’t... have a night routine,” he said with a chuckle, blushing. “It just sounded so, uh, normal to say that.”

“You’re not normal,” she replied, a little giggle escaping her mouth. “Far from it, actually, and you know it.”

Tony smirked, and then it hit him.

She really was the perfect match for him. He didn’t have to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, like a playboy without a heart. He couldn’t. She knew him too well, and she would see right through his act. With Pepper, he could just be himself, and for the first time in his life he wasn’t afraid of that. Well, maybe a little. But she’d always seen the good in him. And if he could be even half the man she made him believe he could be then he would be one hell of a guy.

He let her hand go—he didn’t want to but how was she supposed to move upstairs if he didn’t—and rose from the chair. “Just let me know if you need anything,” he said, smiling. She nodded, as she got up, and then walked away.

When he was finished loading the dishwasher and cleaning the table and countertop, Tony realized the kitchen had never looked that clean. He was simply so nervous about this whole thing of sharing a bed with Pepper that he had spent an extra time of minutes procrastinating. He really wanted to be with her, especially to be with her like that, but she made him feel like a little school boy who didn’t know the first thing about women.

Distinctly conscious of every single step he took towards meeting the woman of his dreams in his bedroom, he went upstairs, thinking about how to act around Pepper and what to say to her. This had always been so easy for him, but only because there had never been anything at stake. He’d never cared about anyone the way he cared about her. Nothing had ever been more important to him than this night, a night he wanted her to remember forever as the beautiful beginning of countless other nights together.

Entering the master bedroom, the first thing Tony noticed was Pepper, occupying the right side of his bed.

“I didn’t know if you have a—“

“Favorite bedside?” he finished her sentence and smiled. “Just seeing you on any side of my bed is fine.” He shook his head. “I mean it’s amazing. No, it’s—I love getting to sleep with you. God, no, that came out wrong,” he continued stammering the words, his voice shaky. “I just... I love that you’re here... with me.”

Pepper’s cheeks flushed softly, the color rising past her freckles. She bit her lower lip and turned her head, but not before Tony saw the emotion reflected in her eyes.

Disappearing into the en-suite bathroom, he stared at himself in the mirror, his face flushed with embarrassment. “What the hell was that?” he mumbled. He wished the ground would open and swallow him up. He really needed to get his act together.

While Pepper waited for Tony to get back, a seemingly endless flood of thoughts and feelings swept over her. She was dressed in only a sleeping shirt and boxers, but her whole body seemed to be on fire, heat blazing inside her. The prospect of spending the night with him, as a couple, after all this time, warmed her blood and quickened her heartbeat. She knew he was nervous. Pepper knew him long enough to read his face, and find meaning behind Tony’s stammering, but she wondered if he felt the same—the little tingle of nerves, the flutter in his stomach. There really was no doubt that she loved him.

“Is this too... sexy?” he asked, and she tilted her head to see him stand in the door frame with just his briefs on, and the ghost of a smile on his face.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she responded. “I’ve seen you many times like this before.” She smirked. “I’ve got a track record of resisting temptation.”

Tony’s eyebrows arched up. “Oh, so you really were trying to resist me? Why didn’t you say so? Could’ve saved ourselves a lot of trouble, Pep.”

Grinning, Pepper flipped back the covers in invitation, and Tony crawled into bed next to her and wrapped his arms and legs around her, as if it was the most casual thing in the world for him. But his heart was actually beating so fast, he was sure she could hear it. He rested his cheek against her head and closed his eyes as she relaxed into him. Pepper’s body fit into his as perfectly as the glass slipper fit Cinderella’s feet. It was the best feeling in the world. He never wanted to let go of her ever again.

”You should’ve told me you were dying,” she whispered, sighing.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he responded just as quietly, feeling her clutch him more tightly, drawing him even closer.

She could’ve lost him not knowing why. He could have been taken from her before she could tell him how she really felt about him, before she could get to feel his lips on hers, and his arms around her body. Maybe they could have had this sooner had she known how serious his condition was. Pepper couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that they might have never ended up in his bed together, if things had gone just a little different.

She didn’t want to imagine losing him, even though she knew, with him being Iron Man, there was always the risk it could happen. He was living a life in danger, and she was now a bigger part of that life than she had ever been before. To finally allow herself to love Tony Stark, to love every single part of him, with all her heart and soul, was the hardest—and most incredible—thing she had ever done.

”I could lay like this for hours,” he said softly after a few minutes of silence, his words only a breath on her skin. “Just holding you.”

He sighed contentedly, as he reached out and caught her hand in his. Her fingers curled around his, and he turned her hand over before lifting it to place a kiss on her knuckles. Feeling the light tremor go through her as his lips lingered on her skin and her fingers tightened, Tony smiled. If he died now, right then and there in Pepper’s arms, he would die happy. The happiest he'd ever been. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much.

Pepper’s hand came up, as she looked at him, and she wrapped her fingers around Tony’s cheek. Tony moaned softly and pushed his face into the hand that caressed it, closing his eyes to the feeling of her touch. She brushed her thumb across his lips, remembering the long-awaited moment of kissing them for the very first time. Slowly Pepper reached up and carefully pressed her mouth to his. The kiss was so light, a feather-like touch, and yet it gave her a giddy thrill.

For a brief instant, there was no response, and then Tony’s arms tightened around her. His hands slid up between her shoulder blades to pull her closer, and Pepper melted into him, welcoming the hot, slick slide of his tongue against hers. Tony bent her slightly back over his arm, and feasted on the sensitive skin of her throat. She took in big gulps of air and shivered with pleasure. Pulling his mouth away, he gazed deep into her eyes, almost gasping at what he saw in them. He had never seen anyone look at him like that.

“I—“

She touched a finger to his lips, took words from his mind with her steady, mesmerizing gaze, and whispered to him, “Just hold me, Tony.”

That would be enough right now. He didn’t need to speak and tell her he loved her, if that was what he truly wanted to say. She just wanted to feel him, to be close to him after all this time longing for him. And when he eased to her side before he collapsed on top of her, gathering her close and holding her to him, she knew he felt the same.

“For as long as you want,” he mumbled, leaning close to her throat.

Tony inhaled her scent deeper within himself until he could taste her and then he did, tasting Pepper’s skin with his lips. He gave a soft sigh, the thought of getting to do this now, whenever he wanted, making him smile. Kissing her, caressing her, holding her—he never wanted to stop expressing his love for her.

“That may be a while,” Pepper said with a chuckle, as she wrapped her arms around him and hugged him, closing her eyes.

She was rewarded by his boyish giggle, muffled against her neck. “I can hold you forever, Ms. Potts.”

“Forever sounds perfect, Mr. Stark.”

[babywarg]

Ironstrange Bingo Entry 16: Memory

Title: Hold Back the Night

Summary: Tony wakes up from a dream of a future that never happened. The very first thing he’s compelled to do is to arrange a romantic date with a man he’s never met. 

Notes: Tumblr folk: this is NOT related to the excerpt I posted last weekend. This is a completely new monster and it ate my brain because of the shameless flood of sentimental music I suffered while out of town.

Also inspired by this post by @silent-night-for-me​. I couldn’t make a fic that followed it exactly, I’m sorry T_T I would love to read a fic that does right by the post, though, because it comes with a lovely premise!

Set shortly before the events of Infinity War, and uses IW quotes liberally, but pretends Pepper and Tony never got together and aren’t going to get married soon. I’m sorry. I AM a Pepperony fan, for the record!! I just feel like I have to warn people of that before they proceed to the fic.

Also, this fic WILL rag on the one tiny part of Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” that bugs me XD Sorry again. For being petty, this time.

The restaurant I had in mind was Eleven Madison Park, but feel free to imagine your own fancypants location.

A few extremely sappy songs to listen to while reading:

Coles Corner - Richard Hawley (seriously, this was the one song I had playing in my head while thinking of Tony in a fancy suit with a huge bouquet of flowers in his arms. The fic's title also came from its lyrics.)

 On the Street Where You Live - Dean Martin

 Perfect - Ed Sheeran (violin cover by Andre Soueid)

For the @ironstrangebingo​ entry "Memory."

***

Tony Stark woke up, thoroughly exhausted, from a very long dream.

The dream was fast fleeing his consciousness, until there were only three things left in his brain.

He repeated them over and over, to keep them in his head longer:

1) Flowers.

He knew nothing about them.

Except that he had to get some.

He’d always trusted his stylists to pick out flowers for him, if they were absolutely necessary. Attending a wedding? A funeral? Sending “get well soon” flowers to random hospitalized people? They’d know best.

But there was one thing he knew about the bouquet he had to get...

It had to have forget-me-nots.

Blue ones.

Non-negotiable.

He called his stylists with this information, and trusted they would put together the perfect bouquet in time for 7 PM that evening.

2) Reservations at a posh restaurant.

He had to swallow his pride and ask Pepper for help with this one.

He really didn’t want to bother Pepper with this. But Tony was a Burger King kind of guy. He had never needed to personally set up a romantic rendezvous before, much less needed to impress anyone he wanted to go with.

Meanwhile, Pepper had a hook on each of the best places, as she handled his social calendar. All he had to do was ask her where to go, if he wanted to take someone out to somewhere nice.

First, she had to blink, and ask, “As in, a date?”

He said Yeah a date, and after a befuddled pause, she said Okay...

Then, she said the name of a restaurant. It was going to be hell and a half to make a dinner reservation there on short notice, she said, but Make it happen, he said to her.

Finally, she sighed a long-suffering sigh and made it happen.

3) 177A Bleecker Street, Greenwich Village.

This, he had to say over and over to himself. This was the weirdest, most specific thing in his head, and he wasn’t about to let go of it.

In spite of having been New York born and bred, he had not been to that part of town ever, and he wasn’t sure what to expect.

But he was ready for the novel and weird. He was certain of that, at least.

***

At exactly 7 PM that day, Tony found himself standing in front of a perfectly ordinary brownstone on a perfectly ordinary street.

Finely dressed, bouquet of flowers in one arm, unusually nervous, he stood poised to ring the doorbell.

The plaque below the doorbell said “177A Bleecker St.” He wasn’t sure why the sight of the perfectly normal plaque disappointed him.

He had expected it to be...more magical, maybe.

But then, he wasn’t here for the building; he was here for the person who lived inside it.

And as for that, a part of him was already prepared for their first meeting.

It burst into a mess of colors inside his chest as soon as the door opened.

Blue eyes with flecks of brilliant green froze him where he stood.

Gorgeous. Jesus God.

He felt like his heart, freshly recovering from an operation to make it independent of an inorganic power source, was trying to fly out, and he had to physically restrain himself from dropping the flowers in his arms and enveloping the taller man in a crushing hug.

“Tony Stark,” the silken voice very reluctantly greeted. “I think you must have the wrong house.”

“I disagree,” Tony confidently answered. “Strange, right? Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange. I need you to come with me.”

[Read the rest on AO3]

[iamartemisday]

The Highest Bidder- a Pepperony fic

A/N: This is my unfortunately late gift for @xxdustnight88 as part of the @womenofmcu‘s Valentine’s Day exchange.

Hope you enjoy!

Pepper had been working as Tony Stark’s personal assistant for nine months, one week, and six days. Here’s what she’d learned:

He drank dark roast coffee with two sugars and one milk.

His favorite band was AC/DC, and she was ninety-nine percent positive he secretly owned the rights to all their music.

He would wear the same pair of jeans multiple days in a row even though he had two closets full of designer clothes.

He preferred blondes with large breasts and long legs, though he’d happily take a brunette to his bed. Very few redheads, though. Not that she cared.

He had no concept of circadian rhythms and didn’t realize he was the only one.

That was how she found herself awake at two in the morning on February 14th, her ill-chosen pop song ringtone cutting holes in her skull with a rusty knife. Tony’s face appeared on her Call ID, grinning like a fool. He was drunk when she took it. Kind of mean, but sometimes, she needed a laugh.

She hit accept. Reminding herself that she made more in a month than most people made in a year, she refrained from cursing him out and settled for a non-committal, “Good morning, Mr. Stark.”

“Club Forty on Eighth Avenue at six.”

“Excuse me?”

“Be at Club Forty on Eighth Avenue at six o’clock tonight. I’ll get Hogan to pick you up. Wear the most expensive outfit you have, and if you don’t have anything that’ll make you look suitably rich, buy whatever you need on my tab. Hogan will give you cash.”

“Wait, Mr. Stark, I don’t understand.” She made the fatal mistake of looking at her glowing blue clock radio. Now her eyes were about to explode. She rubbed them fiercely, struggling to keep them open. “You want me to go to a club?”

“Club Forty. Eighth Avenue. There’s going to be a charity bachelor auction and I need you to buy me.”

“...why?”

“Because if you don’t, Angelica Spooner will.”

“Who’s Angelica Spooner?”

“Some heiress I met at a party a few months ago. I was going to invite her back to my place, but it turns out, she’s kind of completely nuts and obsessed with me. So I must avoid her at all costs.”

“She can’t be that bad.”

“She showed up at my office the next day in a wedding dress.”

Okay, that was pretty bad.

“You know, there should be other women at the auction.” Pepper didn’t actually remember seeing that on Tony’s schedule. Knowing him, he agreed after his seventh daiquiri and failed to remember until yesterday. “There’s no guarantee she’ll win.”

“I’m not taking any chances.” Pepper heard clanking in the background. Sounded like he was elbow deep in a radiator again. “I’m sorry if you had plans-”

She didn’t, and they both knew it. She’d been between relationships since long before Stark Industries was on her radar.

“-but if you do this for me, I will give you anything you want. Extra pay, double vacation days, you name it. Just please, please-”

“Okay, relax. You don’t have to beg.” Not that she didn’t kind of enjoy it. “I’ll buy you at the auction and keep you far away from your bride-to-be.”

She could hear him shudder. “Thank you. I’ll get Hogan to pick you up at five. Unless you need to run some errands first? Get your hair done or something?”

“No, that’s fine.” Pepper ran her fingers through her hair and hit multiple knots. She pushed through and managed to only wince in pain. “I can get myself ready. See you tonight, Mr. Stark.”

“You are a dream, Ms. Potts.”

He hung up and Pepper stared at the phone, watching the time change from 2:32 to 2:33. Now there was a sign-off she’d never heard before. Once, in her first week of work, he told her her eyes sparkled when she laughed and left him mesmerized. She’d taken the compliment as it wasn’t about her ass or her breasts, but assumed it was just him being his usual self. Charming all the girls like a regular Casanova. Knowing she’d never in a million years say yes because that violated so many workplace regulations and just, in general, would be in poor taste.

Never did she think he actually meant it.

Because obviously, his type was elegant, classically beautiful Gwyneth Paltrow type women. Not mousy failed model Pepper Potts.

But the way he called her a dream, in the exact same tone of voice he used to wax poetic about her eyes, almost like he did find her as beautiful as those other girls. Almost like he had a whole different reason to ask her this favor.

Almost like…

Pepper rolled over and fell back asleep. By morning, she should be fully rested and returned to sanity.

**

Her nicest outfit was a midnight blue evening gown she bought herself as a Christmas gift. It was made of a material she didn’t know the name of but felt like wearing a waterfall. The neckline was on the lower end, but still presentable. The skirt molded to her body like a glove, flaring just a bit at the ankles. Pepper had yet to wear it, but the shopkeeper had insisted, in broken but passable English, that she was a dish in it and men would adore her.

Her doorman, a stone-faced man who could catch flies out of midair, swallowed his tongue as scrambled to open the door for her, and Hogan forgot how to speak for a few seconds as he tried his best not to stare at her.

The shopkeeper was right. Good.

She’d showered earlier in the day and given herself a simple updo. Her make-up was neatly applied and her nails cleaned and manicured. It was a quarter after five and there was nothing to do but get to the club with a half hour to spare.

Of course, traffic being what it was, she just barely made it before the clock struck six. Happy opened the door for her and handed her a platinum credit card.

“From Mr. Stark,” he said. “There’s fifty thousand on there. Should be more than enough to win the auction. Don’t worry, it’s in his name.”

“Thanks, Happy,” she said as the bouncer removed the velvet rope to allow her entry.

She checked her coat and entered the party. It was a swanky event devoid of the usual drunks grinding against each other to pounding dubstep beats. Instead, a pianist played a jazzy tune while men and women in their black-tie best sipped wine and talked about how great being rich was. Pepper recognized a few of them as Tony’s business partners. They greeted her warmly and she responded in kind. Nobody was looking to make conversation, so she found an empty seat near the stage without much trouble.

A man was at the podium organizing his notes. He was short and nearly bald with wire-rim glasses. When he coughed into the microphone, the feedback made Pepper’s ears ring.

“Attention everyone. The auction will begin in five minutes. Please retrieve a paddle from the front desk if you haven’t already.”

Pepper’s paddle was flat in her lap, made from polished cedar wood and lined with gold. Unnecessarily ornate to the highest degree, but all she could’ve expected from the one percent of the one percent.

More people were filing into the dining room now. So many new voices, it was impossible to pick out more than one or two at a time. She distinctly heard a husband and wife arguing over the former’s fixation on their twenty-something babysitter and a waiter rushing through the crowd with a drink in hand.

“Your margarita, Miss Spooner.”

Pepper turned all the way around in her seat. The waiter, grinning foolishly, handed the drink to a woman in a black sequin cocktail dress. She was blonde, leggy, and had boobs bigger than her head. Definitely Angelica.

Despite her objectively pretty face and clear skin, Pepper couldn’t say what made her especially attractive. She stared at the woman as long as she could without being noticed, and there wasn’t a single distinguishing feature to be found. Maybe it was just the distance.

A bell was rung, signaling the start of the night’s main event. The balding man had fixed the microphone and now spoke without causing physical or emotional damage.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming. We’d like to first take the opportunity to wish you all a happy Valentine’s Day. We hope tonight will be a night to remember.”

Some polite applause and then the balding man continued.

“We will begin with our charity bachelor auction. First up, we have Mr. Thomas Holloway, CFO, and co-founder of Datson-Holloway Incorporated. May I start the bidding at five thousand dollars?”

Pepper watched silently as each consecutive bachelor took the stage. She had no idea what Tony’s place in line was or where he was sitting. Most of the men came out from behind a curtain, so it was possible he was back there having as many drinks as he needed to stand before the crowd like a piece of meat and hopefully not go home with someone who probably had his name carved into her arm. Not once did she raise her paddle, earning a few inquisitive looks from the women around her.

“I’m waiting for someone,” she whispered when the stares wouldn’t stop.

Mr. Blake Matthews of Hammertech sold for a cool forty thousand. Then the room hitched a collective breath as the man of the hour appeared.

“Last, but certainly not least,” said the balding man, “Mr. Tony Stark needs no introduction. Let’s start the bidding off at-”

Every paddle was in the air. So was Angelica Spooner.

“Twenty thousand!”

A few paddles went down, but most were furiously waved. Tony’s eyes locked on Pepper, his smile turning horribly fake as a silently pleaded with her. This brought her back to the reason she was here and she rose to her feet.

“I bid twenty-five thousand,” she said.

Angelica Spooner looked like she wanted leap across the room and tear Pepper apart like a rabid cheetah.

“Thirty thousand,” she cried instead.

“Thirty thousand!” The balding man clapped his hands together. “Very good. Do I hear thirty-five thousand? Thirty-five thousand, anyone?”

“Thirty-five thousand,” a random woman in the audience yelled.

“Forty thousand,” said Angelica.

“Forty-five thousand!”

This was actually getting pretty exciting. Even Tony seemed to be enjoying himself. He flashed Pepper a thumbs up, emboldening her to put an end to this once and for all. The credit card burned through her dress into her skin. Fifty thousand dollars. Even the biggest spenders wouldn’t dare go that far all for one measly dinner date. Indeed, more than three-quarters of the paddles were down and what remained were only half as high as they had been.

Pepper didn’t dare look at Angelica, no matter how weirdly tempted she was to give the woman a smirk.

“Fif-”

“Seventy-five thousand dollars!”

A wave of gasps as Angelica pranced on stage and clung to Tony’s arm, so assured of her victory now that her insane bid was on the table. She whispered something in Tony’s ear. He turned snow white and couldn’t bother to fake smile anymore. Now, he just looked sick.

“Well, we have a real battle royale here tonight,” the balding man cheered. “All right, seventy-five thousand. Do I hear eighty thousand?”

Crickets. Pepper couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. It didn’t matter in the slightest because Tony was her boss and a flirt and about as far from serious boyfriend-husband material one could get outside of convicted felons. Him going on a date with this woman meant nothing to her aside from the legal ramifications if she was as bad as Tony claimed. Otherwise, it was nothing she had any involvement in. Nothing she cared about.

He was just her boss.

But Angelica’s hands on his arm and her lips in his ear…

“No? All right.” The balding man prepared his gavel. “That’s seventy-five thousand dollars going once… going twice… s-”

“ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND!”

It didn’t sound like Pepper’s voice. If she hadn’t felt the vibrations in her throat, she wouldn’t have known it was her at all. Angelica’s eyes bugged out. Tony looked like he’d just seen Jesus. The balding man sputtered and nearly dropped his gavel.

“Wha- you- you can’t-” Pepper kind of liked how presumptuous Angelica had been in going on stage. In the proper lighting, it was now perfectly clear how unpretty she really was.

“That’s it,” a male voice snapped from the audience. Then a middle-aged man stood up. “Angelica, get down here. It’s over.”

“But daddy,” she whined, “you said-”

“I said no more than seventy thousand. No more. Now move. We’re going home.”

It took a few more seconds of pouting and clutching Tony’s arm with her tentacles, but finally, she uncurled herself and stomped off stage, muttering obscenities to herself.

The crowd was silent as father and daughter left the room. He could still be heard yelling at her for embarrassing him even as the balding man cleared his throat and brought the event back to order.

“All right. That was… well, I think it’s safe to say we have a winner! Sold to Virginia Potts for one hundred thousand dollars. Thank you so much, Ms. Potts.”

Pepper waved awkwardly as those daring enough to applaud whistled and whooped for her. She stepped towards the stage where Tony was shaking hands with the balding man. They left after Pepper handed over the card and signed a few papers promising to clean out her bank account to pay for a dinner with her boss. The whole process made her head spin and her stomach churn, even after Tony took the organizers aside and most likely arranged to cover the payment himself.

“Hell of a show there, Potts,” he said while they waited for Hogan to bring the car around.

“Tony, I’m so sorry,” she said, clutching her dress and leaving behind unsightly wrinkles. “I know I was only supposed to bid fifty thousand. I didn’t mean to let it get so out of hand.”

“What are you talking about? You did exactly what I told you to.”

“But you gave me fifty thousand and I ended up bidding twice that.”

“So? I have twelve more cards just like it. Even if I didn’t, I’d give every cent I have and most of my major organs not to go home with Alex Forrest over there.”

“That reminds me,” Pepper looked around but thankfully didn’t see Angelica anywhere. “What was she saying to you?”

Tony shivered as beads of sweat dripped down his face. “Let’s just say I’m really glad I don’t believe in love spells. And that I didn’t drink the wine.”

“Okay then,” Pepper took him by the arm without thinking. “Let’s get a move on.”

“Yes indeed,” Tony took a breath to calm himself down. “How does Monica’s sound to you. Or maybe the Dancing Goose?”

“What’s the Dancing Goose?”

“This little hole in the wall I found one night while bar hopping in college,” Tony said. “It’s a lot ritzier than it sounds and they make amazing crepes. I think it’s a great date location.”

“Are you saying we should actually go on a date?”

Tony shrugged. “I mean, you did spend one hundred thousand dollars on me. Just because I’m paying it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get my money’s worth.”

Pepper tried not to laugh. She really did. “You know there are a few big reasons why you and I can’t date. Reasons which I have listed to you several times already.”

“Yeah, I was thinking we could skip that part and just go for the crepes.” Tony tried to look endearing and innocent with his puppy dog eyes. If Pepper was a giggling fangirl, it would’ve worked like a charm. When she didn’t break, he sighed. “Okay, tell you what, we go for a friendly dinner and talk about work and other boring stuff. So instead of being a couple, we’re just two co-workers chatting over a candlelit dinner on Valentine’s Day. Sound good?”

Part of Pepper wanted to say no, and not at all for the right reasons. “I suppose an impromptu work meeting in a public place followed by returning to our seperate homes at a reasonable hour would be all right.”

Tony slumped a little. “You sound like my junior prom date’s dad.”

“Or I could just go home.”

“No, no, friendly work not-date is fine. I can live with that.”

Happy arrived with the car and honked the horn. He didn’t say a word as they got in the backseat, which Pepper made a note to give him a good tip for. She sat several inches from Tony, nodding along as he sung the Dancing Goose’s praises, interspersed with directions on how to get there for Happy. As they pulled out, Pepper caught sight of Angelica out the rearview mirror. As she stormed down the steps with her father, her heel snapped on the bottom step, sending her plummetting forward. She landed face first in a puddle from the morning’s rainfall, ruining her hair and dress.

Pepper was not someone who took pleasure in other people’s suffering, she really wasn’t, but she couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach as Angelica struggled to stand with tears running down her face. Nor could she stop herself from ‘accidentally’ laying her hand on Tony’s forearm and squeezing.

[theliterateape]

Culture in Real Time

by Don Hall

“I have a surprise for you in honor of February!”

Dana and I have this thing we can’t quite find common ground upon concerning birthdays. She is a minimalist from a wholly unsentimental Pennsylvania family. I’m a materialist raised by a mother who calls presents “prizes” and gives gifts as a part of her love language.

While I’m old enough not to care, I still want my birthday to be a celebration of me. It’s small in spirit but, in that self-diagnosis we all attempt on our own psyches, I was the child of a beautiful woman who attracted men who wanted her but tolerated me. Birthdays were my mother’s way of reminding me that, at least to her, I was someone of note.

“I’m putting the blue in the toilet!”

Another unusual record skip in our marriage is those Tidy Bowl tablets you put in the tank and turns the water blue. To her, they are a sign of white trash, low culture, unnecessary expense. To me, they are an odd bluish signal of semi-wealth and extravagance. 

For the most part, the toilet remains clear. She likes it that way because she can then examine the color of her urine to see if she been hydrating properly (too yellow and she’s not). Once in a moon, she indulges me with a tab of unnatural blue with a hint of ammonia. It’s stupid but I love it every time.

We are both Aquarians which means we both are almost zealous in our personal independence and the sight of her in the bedroom and I on the couch, doing our separate things in the same space, is common. We do well together.

Our differences—in terms of how we view money, consumerism, art, reading, politics—are bizarrely cultural.

My DNA is mostly Irish. Some British, a bit African American, some Native American, but mostly Irish. I have the fair skin and propensity to addictive behavior of someone Irish but culturally I’m not one who embraces Ireland or her ways. Culturally, I’m a bit trailer trash, a dash biker gang, a sprinkling of Southern United States with a Midwestern sensibility.

I’m an American mutt.

A child of the seventies, a GenX guy who came of age in the 80’s, I’m the archetype of classic rock and slightly retrograde sexist attitudes that almost every Motley Crue and Scorpions song conveys. I still call women I meet “darlin’” and “honey” as a sign of friendliness. I prefer to throw the rock and roll horns to a thumbs up. I have tattoos but most are quotes from my favorite authors.

Culturally, I’m a fucking mess, man.

I have friends who live a more culturally identifiable life. I’ll admit to being somewhat envious of them.

Arlo is black. I mean, black black. He is originally from a tiny county in Georgia and laughs as I tell him how much he fits the stereotype of a sixty year old black man from Georgia.

"You could be played in a movie by Louis Gossett, Jr." and he cackles.

Arlo has a love/hate relationship with his cultural bedrock. He loves the food. "Barbecued pork, collared greens, black-eyed peas. My gramma's kitchen table was what I think Arab suicide bombers dream of instead of virgins." He loves the music. "Mississippi John Hurt, John Hooker, Buddy Guy? Sh-eee-it." He hates the drug culture which he was surrounded by growing up. He hates the idea that all black people can dance. "No one in my family had any of that. No dancing."

Jim (his Korean name is Junghoon but everyone who knows him calls him Jim) tells me he feels out of place when he sees his family. "I guess I'm like a self-loathing Jew in that I'm Korean but by way of Decatur, Illinois." Culturally, he is a "no zone" in that his parents tried to instill the cultural markers of a second-generation Korean kid but he was never really into it. "I always hated kimchi. Hot Pockets. Pepperoni. Keep your Bibimbap to yourself. Give me a bag of Doritos, please."

Culture is comprised of four things in increasing levels of significance: symbols, heroes, rituals and values.

What the three of us all have in common is comic books. All three of us claim to have learned to read courtesy of Stan Lee.

The Fantastic Four. The Avengers. The Amazing Spiderman. The X Men.

The difference between the DC world and the Marvel world was that the heroes in DC were gods and the heroes in Marvel (mostly) were humans with godlike power.

These were the legends and fables of growing up. These were the morality tales of my youth.

From Peter Parker I learned that with great power comes great responsibility. From Logan, his mantra that "The pain let's you know you're still alive" resonated. Daredevil showed that any liability can be overcome (with the help of some radiative waste). 

Bruce Banner instructed that anger can be managed. As an angry Irish-esque kid in Nowhere, Kansas during high school, I needed that lesson. Arlo loved Luke Cage ("But not the Netflix one. The one with the chains and the afro. I was country-black but he made city-black look cool.") and Jim was a huge fan of Ben Grimm ("He always felt like a freak but had his family to give him a purpose.").

I had girlfriends who had broken my heart but nothing I could compare to Peter Parker's grief from Amazing Spiderman #121-122 ("The Night Gwen Stacy Died"). Not only did he lose his great love, he snapped her neck trying to save her. Holy fuck! I was seven years old when I read that and the gravity of a beloved hero failing so horribly was traumatic and took me years to process.

Iron Man #120-128 has Tony Stark dealing full-bore with his alcoholism in "Demon in a Bottle." 

The entire early X Men storylines find an incredible synthesis of the civil rights issues of the late sixties. While the debates about discrimination, non-violent vs violent protest, and inclusion bypassed my ten year old brain, the ideological battles between Charles Xavier and Magneto set the groundwork for when I started reading James Baldwin in high school.

Even more pervasive in the Marvel Universe was the idea that heroes were as flawed as the villains. Doctor Octopus was the bad guy but not evil. Galactus was not evil but simply trying to survive and his means of staying alive involved eating planets. The crossover of villains to heroes was commonplace in the Marvel Universe cementing an ethic that anyone—even Magneto—could find redemption.

My friend has a kid who loves his superheroes. His introduction to them was the MCU and the films of the Avengers. One day, he and his kid were watching Captain America: Civil War and the child wanted to know if Tony Stark was a good guy or a bad guy. My buddy had a bit of a conundrum because in this case there was no easy answer.

This is a bedrock principle of Marvel: there are no good guys or bad guys. Every character is flawed and can make mistakes. Every hero gets to take turns being selfish, afraid, greedy, and enraged. Every villain has a tortured past and is only the villain out of misguided and traumatized perspective. Like the Netflix Daredevil series when Kingpin doesn't realize he's the bad guy until the thirteenth episode and then is astonished by it.

“Culture is how you were raised,” a friend tells me.

Comic books and the desire to be one of these flawed superheroes are culturally important to me. They are as defining of who I am and who I wish to be as natural hair on a black woman working in an office defines her or traditional prayer rituals are to someone raised in a church. These heroes have been a part of my life since I can remember having memories and I've been engaged with them since that nebulous time.

Isn't that culture? My cultural identity?

We GenX types were raised, in part, consuming pop culture in ways previous generations did not. Hours upon hours of televised stories infused into the soft tissue like an army of Manchurian candidates waiting for the buzzwords to activate our consumerist triggers. The advent of VHS tapes made viewing movies the ultimate babysitter. While a kid born and raised on the streets of Detroit might have very little in common with another born and raised in Idaho, both had cultural roots in their mutual boners for Jill Munroe and devastation over the death of Lt. Colonel Henry Blake. A black kid in Birmingham, Alabama could be as racially different from a white kid in Salt Lake City, Utah but both could bond over Star Warsand Nintendo.

As I read it, culture is comprised of four things in increasing levels of significance: symbols, heroes, rituals and values. By that quite academic frame, it seems that as we parse out our differences in our current multi-cultural war in America, it is a fixation on the symbols that trip us up. Skin color, hair, clothing and style, food, language, sexual proclivities and the presence of certain genitalia are all surface-level identifiers. They are the symbols of each human on display. 

I knew a (white) guy who grew up on the South side of Chicago, went to predominantly black populated schools, had mostly black teachers, and whose only friends were black. He dressed black, spoke black, acted black. Did any of that make him somehow less white and does that make any difference? I know a (black) woman—you'd know her, too, if I shared her New York Times Bestselling name—who, if you talk to her on the phone sounds like the secretary from Ferris Bueller's Day Off but looks like Weezy Jefferson from Good Times. Did her accent and nerdy mannerisms make make her less black and does that make any difference?

“Culture is how you were raised,” a friend tells me. “A lot of it is hidden in the back. It’s not just the food you ate growing up but why that food and not something else. It’s what your family decided to spend money on and what they wouldn’t spend money on. It’s those weird rituals you’d practice every holiday. It’s the clothes you wore but more deep than the fashion is why you wore those specific clothes.”

He tells me a story about clothes. His family didn’t have a lot of money so they saved cash by handing clothes down from one sibling to the next. It was frugal and smart with five kids. By the time my friend got the clothes (he was number four of the five) the strain of wear, the places his mother had stitched up, was obvious. And his little brother then got new clothes because four was the limit of the physical shirts and pants.

My friend spends a lot of money on fashion. He wears the latest trends and has a closet full of suits. He says he spends maybe a third of his take-home on shoes. “That’s culture in real time.”

I don’t dress up for much. I own no suits. I have ties but they’re mostly Marvel, Star Wars, and Beatles ties. My dress shoes are either decent tennis shoes or boots. When I was a kid, my mother wanted to please her aunt. Her aunt was a church-goer so we joined her church. I remember the day she told me I couldn’t go to church because my clothes weren’t up to snuff. “You can’t go to church dressed like that!” she guffawed.

I recall being embarrassed. I didn’t have anything nicer. She laughed at my best clothes. It obviously stuck because I still cringe at the memory. As a result, I bristle at the idea of dressing up for anything or for anybody and I do not go to church. “That’s culture in real time.”

While a follower of The Avengers as a kid, I was never a fan of Captain America. No good reason for that. Steve Rogers just never did it for me. That is, until Chris Evans portrayed the character in the MCU movies. Maybe it was my time to appreciate his retro-goodness; maybe I needed to be a bit older to fully appreciate his specific kind of superhero.

Perhaps I needed to live some life before the ideas that the “I can do this all day” persistence did me any good. The belief in something so strong that he’d go against all of his friends in a fight. His loyalty to Bucky despite the fact that his childhood friend had become a villain. His enduring love for Peggy Carter. His stalwart acceptance that he is almost a century older than he looks and most of his friends are long dead.

I didn’t need those values as a kid. I need those values today.

Dana is fourteen years younger than I am. No, I wasn’t looking for a third wife who was born when I was entering high school. It just worked out that way. The age difference feels sometimes like I was encased in ice for seventy-five years only to be resurrected long after the war was won.

The differences we have are bizarrely cultural. She is a free spirit. I am a worker bee. She is a poet in need of inspiration and subject to the mood swings of that breed of writer. I am an essayist who approaches writing like the laying of bricks to build a house who becomes more a follower of Stoicism the older I get. She grew up in the same house she was born in. I grew up moving from place to place with no true sense of a physical grounding. She is relentlessly frugal. I am an impulse buyer.

But we make it work.

Once in a while I wake up in the morning to take a leak and the toilet water is blue.

[mrfutureboy]

Favourite avengers movies scenes? Favourite iron man movies scenes?

hi there! i’m sorry this took so long it’s always so hard to pick faves! thank you for coming by

Avengers:-when ac/dc starts playing on the quinjet nat’s piloting and we hear tony go “you miss me?”-steve beating the shit out of that bag-the shawerma credit scene (i still dont know how to spell that like ive seen the common spelling of shawarma but theres a restaurant on campus that has it spelled with the e and i just dont know bc autocorrect always puts the red line)-the fight scene between thor tony and steve-this isnt a scene but the low angle shot of thor when all the avengers are arguing by the scepter when he says “you humans are so petty…and tiny”-the 12% scene with pepper and tony-”so thats what it does”-i love but hate “son, just don’t”-the scene with loki in germany (i think) and he’s forcing everyone to kneel and that one man stands up and loki’s like “theres no man like me” and the dude’s like “there are always men like you”-the scene where natasha SCAMS the plan out of loki-ok this doesnt “”count”” but the blooper where mark ruffalo’s like “you guys are on your own!” and runs away-”that man is playing galaga! thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did!”-also [SPOILERS] rip-that whole scene with tony out there is Good-”how does fury see these things?” “he turns”    “when did you become an expert in theoretical astrophysics?” “last night”-when tony’s trying to find out what bruce’s secret is to being calm-also i lowkey love the scene between nat and bruce when she’s recruiting him, tho i hate that joss took that and was like “romance?”

Age of Ultron:-I didn’t like aou so this is gonna be short-the scene where everyone is trying to lift the hammer is THE BEST SHIT joss whedon’s ever done for me-when tony calls clint’s kids “smaller agents”-when steve and nat are talking about “where else am i gonna get a view like this”-steve thor and tony talking about putting mjolnir in an elevator, and the way steve says “elevator’s not worthy”-everybody just looked really good in this movie I know that’s not a scene but it’s the only reason I ever think about watching aou again

Iron Man:-”next time, you ride with me”-that whole SCENE when rhodey finds tony like gahhhh my heart-speaking of these two, when theyre drunk on the plane and there are literally strippers right in front of them but they’re not even paying attention to them-the reunion between tony and pepper too like “tears for your long lost boss?”-THIS MOVIE is where rdj starts that sniffle thing that tony does and that means a lot to me-the scene where tony’s reading a newspaper and pepper’s getting him ready and he starts talking about “if i had a girlfriend”-the scene in the fun-vee before it all goes to shit and theyre just taking selfies-the scene with yinsen dying is heartbreaking bc he had said to tony earlier that he was going to see his family, but yinsen dies and we realize that yinsen’s family’s DEAD and so him dying was the PLAN-the whole thing with yinsen having met tony before becomes more heartbreaking after actually seeing their meeting in im3 even tho it wasnt a super like, emotional moment in 1999. it just made it more concrete i guess-edit i came back to add this i cant believe that i forgot to mention the FACT that pepper saved tony’s ass? like SHE’S the one who found out about what obadiah was doing!!-also the scene when he and tony are fighting and tony flies him wayyy high into the atmosphere and is like “so how’d you fix the ice problem?” and then obie’s like huh? and then he’s fucking plummeting back down to earth

Iron Man 2:-when tony’s complaining that this was his first vacation in years-when he buys the box of strawberries (which pepper’s allergic to BIG RIP) and the dude’s like “r u iron man” and tony’s like “sometimes” and drives off-”sir i’m gonna have to ask you to exit the donut”-”i dont wanna join your super secret boyband”-that whole scene in the donut shop w nick and nat and tony means a lot-”you cant afford me”-okay yeah that scene where theyre talking about the avengers initiative, and how they want iron man but not tony stark bc it breaks my tony-stanning heart-when natasha (”natalie”) kicks the shit out happy no offense that was my kink, especially after that comment about booty camp or w/e he said -the fight between tony and rhodey-tony’s drunk ass in the iron man suit throwing what he believes is his last fucking birthday party-not a scene but tony’s leather jacket-stark expo entrance

Iron Man 3:-um the whole movie? i love im3-the whole fucking sequence when tony’s testing out the mark 42′s call-ability, and he’s listening to christmas music and dancing-i just reblogged a post about this but WHEN PEPPER’S SIFTING THROUGH THE DRAWINGS THAT TONY’S GOTTEN FROM KIDS BC THATS PURE-speaking of kids, “i loved you in “A Christmas Story”.”-this isnt a scene but his relationship with Harley-actually! the deleted scene where he resuscitates him with the arc reactor-”hey, remember what i told you about bullies?” and then harley tasers the shit out of that bald guy-the scene where tony visits happy in the hospital and tells the nurse to keep downtown abbey on bc happy thinks its elegant-when pepper rocks killian’s shit at the end-rhodey rocking killian’s shit earlier in the film-rhodey and tony going out to lunch together-GARY-when tony has an anxiety attack while on the phone with harley and tony’s like “idk what im gonna do” and harleys like well youre a mechanic why dont you just build something? and the way tony stops and the camera kinda zooms in cuz dammit this kid’s right-the following scene where tonys gathering shit from like Home Depot and then building his shit-and then the scene where he’s fucking DOING THAT to all those baddies

Infinity War: (spoilers under cut!) This movie counts, right?

-not a scene but i need to say it: thor is the STRONGEST AVENGER-when they asked “who do u serve” and peter quill’s like “what am i supposed to say, jesus???”-”i am groot” “I am steve rogers”-the scene where we first see tony use his armor bc listen that armor is my KIIINK-i really liked the whole sequence with thor and rocket on…i cant remember what planet it was…but when they were having the axe built by eitri (ok i just looked up his name bc i didnt remember it) and the fucking thing closed and thor was like “i’ll just hold it open” but eitri was like “you’ll be taking the full force from a STAR you’ll DIE” but thor fucking DID THAT. “hulk is the strongest avenger” who?-speaking of, when bruce hugged tony. important.-the scene where tony’s telling pepper he had a really realistic dream that they had a baby, PAIRED WITH when tony’s on the phone with pepper as he going up into space and it cuts out as she’s saying “I’m–” !! My pepperony-stanning heart FELT THAT!! tho i didn’t like the name he said they used tho tbh i dont even remember what it was i just remember not liking it-the scene with bruce and shuri and vision and shuri’s like “well why didnt you do [science]” and bruce was like “cuz we didnt…think of that?” and shuri was like “well i’m sure you tried your best”-WHEN BRUCE ASKS RHODEY IF THEY SHOULD BOW AND RHODEY’S LIKE “YEAH DUDE HE’S A KING” AND THEN BRUCE BOWS AND RHODEY’S LIKE “DUDE WHAT’RE YOU DOING” AND T’CHALLA SAYS “WE DONT DO THAT HERE” AND RHODEY LAUGHS RB IF YOU AGREE-the whole “where’s gamora?” “who’s gamora?” “why’s gamora?” scene aka when the guardians meet the avengers (well like 3 of them)-the faces tony makes when interacting with the guardians lol like when mantis says “kick names, take ass” and he just stares at the camera like holy shit

[iamsaha]

Hourglass

I love my wife. Always will.

This is my story.

January 1, 1990

I’m born at 8:33 P.M. with a head covered in brown hair. I’m wet and gross and covered in bodily fluids. Despite that, I can hear the doctor telling my parents that they’ve got a beautiful baby boy now. He could have just said ‘baby boy’. My parents would have been just as happy. 

Just like always, I don’t cry immediately. I just stare at the doctor’s stupid face. Then, when he smiles and makes his face more stupid looking, I start crying. Doesn’t matter how many times I’ve seen it. It’s scary every time. That man should not be delivering children. 

The rest of that day is free of any incidents but they keep my mom in the hospital for the night since she bled quite a bit giving birth to me. She insisted that she was fine but the stupid faced doctor knew better so they listened. I don’t care. I don’t mind that I am completely unable to move on my own, that I am entirely dependent on adults to do anything besides shit myself. I just lay in my bassinet happy with the fact that my future wife would be delivered in two weeks at a hospital a hundred miles away. 

Her name would be Rory.

January 16, 1990

Rory is born at 7:49 A.M. She’s born bald but she’ll be a brunette in a month or two. Her mom bleeds more than mine did and dies because of it. That’s something that Rory will talk about in therapy when she starts going at the age of 19 at my insistence. Her single father did a magnificent job raising her. Even got his sister to help for womanly matters. But it wasn’t the same as having another parent. It’s a hole Rory had for much of her life. A hole that she learned to live with but never truly went away. Not until we have our children. But that’s later.

December 15, 2007

I get accepted to Yale and I can’t contain my excitement. My grandfather had gone there, then my dad, and now me. There wasn’t any pressure on me from my dad to follow in those same footsteps but I, at a young age, decided that I would. That was a significant amount of pressure on its own. I didn’t even know I’d be meeting Rory at Yale. The knowledge that I had accomplished a life long goal filled me with energy and I run around the house. Our dog, Tito, joins me in running. He doesn’t understand why I’m so happy but he’s eager to join in on my celebrations. Just happy to be there. Relieving this moment is one of the best parts of coming back. 

A few hours later that happy high is forced to come crashing down when my girlfriend, Abby, breaks up with me. She had also applied to Yale in the hopes that we’d go together but she had been rejected. After I suggested long distance, not even considering going to the local university that we had both gotten accepted to, she ended it. She wasn’t willing to try long distance and didn’t feel right asking me to stay when I so obviously wanted to go. I’m heartbroken of course. My first love. A first love that had lasted for two years. A love that I foolishly thought would last my whole life. I had dreamed Abby and I would be one of those old, old couples you’d meet and be surprised to learn they were high school sweethearts. 

She’s the first of many dreams to be burned. But for the reality that is Rory Foxhorn to become a part of my life, Abby had to go. I understand that now. Still. The break up stings me to my core every time.

August 12, 2008

Number 5 in my top five favorite days. It’s move-in day at my dormitory. Nothing special save for the teary goodbye with my parents. It’s especially hard since I’m their only son. My dad jokes and says they’ll have to stay in a hotel for the night and cry the rest of their tears before actually starting the 10 hour drive home. I now know - after finding out for the first time at my college graduation - that that is exactly what they did. Not so much to cry. But to process their feelings for a little while so they wouldn’t do it on the road. 

That evening a Freshman Mixer is held for all the new students to meet and potentially make new friends. That’s what makes today so special. Of the dozens I meet in my eagerness to talk to as many people as possible, four end up being important to me. Noah Terese, Tony Anders, Celeste Lopez, and Rory Foxhorn. 

I meet Tony and Celeste by the pizza. Tony and I reach for a slice, the last slice of sausage and pepperoni, at the same time. I shrug and say he can take it. He shakes his head and offers it to me. Celeste laughs and steals it for herself. We start talking and I learn that the two were dating and had been doing so since sophomore year of high school. A memory of Abby stabs me but I suppress it. We talk for longer and learn we have some classes together. After exchanging numbers and promising to hang out, the two leave. I’m still not ready to head to my dorm so I wander for a little bit longer. 

Noah calls out to me and challenges me to ping pong. I accept. Then lose. I challenge him. I lose again. I challenge him again and he smiles and nods, just humoring me. I win. Intrigued, he challenges me to another round. I win. We make eye contact. One more round. Winner takes all. There wasn’t a prize. But the winner takes all.

Noah wins. 

We had drawn onlookers by this point and they all cheer. I smile and shake his hand, telling him I’d kick his ass next time. We also exchange numbers so that we can arrange for the next ass-kicking, and I decide to finally head to my dorm that my parents had so lovingly helped furnish. I barely get out of the bulk of the crowd when I see her. The most beautiful girl I had ever laid eyes on. 

Brunette. Round face. Cute ears that noticeably, but not obnoxiously, stick out. In shape but in a normal sort of way. Not athletic looking is what I mean. 

“Ah man is it over?” She says to me. “I kept seeing people leave on my way here!”

I realize she’s talking to me. “Huh? Oh no. It’s not.”

“Thank God!” She beams. “I got caught up putting my damn desk together and didn’t notice the time. I really thought I’d miss out. Didn’t even get the desk built!”

“Nah the party’s still going.” I hold my hand out. “My name’s Tommy.”

“Hi Tommy.” She shakes my hand. “Rory.”

“Nice to meet you.” 

“I only came out here for a little breathing room.” I say. Her eyes are hazel. “But I haven’t eaten yet. Wanna join me?”

“Sure!” 

My stomach is fit to bursting but I cram two more slices of pizza into myself along with a cup of soda. I don’t notice since my conversation with her flows so well. It just happens. In about two hours anyone looking would say we’ve been friends forever. 

“Sorry to hear your girlfriend broke up with you.” She says. “Mine broke up with me too.”

My heart sinks. “Oh? Did she have the same reason as Abby?”

“Oh shit I didn’t mean my girlfriend.” Rory smacks her forehead. “I meant my boyfriend. Like. I was thinking ‘oh my relationship ended the same way’ and ended up saying ‘mine broke up with me’ instead. I don’t know why my brain did that.”

My heart rises. “Ah okay.”

She looks around. “I think it’s actually ending now.”

I notice that janitors had arrived and were beginning to clean things up. “Damn.”

“Yeah. Damn.” 

I decide to take a shot. “Hey want me to help you put that desk together?”

“Would you?” She smiles and I get my reward before I even put the desk together. Lucky me. It isn’t fair for someone to be this pretty. She smirks at me.

“That’s all you’ll be doing by the way. Putting my desk together.”

She was flirting. “I don’t have any ulterior motives. If that’s what you’re implying.”

“Maybe.” She shrugs. “You seem really nice. But you can never tell with boys.” She smirks again. “Y’all can be pretty saucy.”

“So can y’all.”

“True!” She turns and begins walking. “Let’s go! I’m gonna have to sneak you in. No boys aloud in the girls dorm after 11.”

“You live on the ground floor?”

“Nope. First.” She says. “But I’ve got a tree by the balcony. Classic rom-com set up.”

“Rom-com, eh?”

“Yeah.” She playfully punches my shoulder. “The com part is you thinking there’ll be a rom section.”

“Rom can just be me putting your desk together.”

“We’d be the first g rated rom-com.”

“Fine by me.”

“Me too.” Then she winks at me. I look forward to this moment every time and it fills me with joy still. So much power in one little wink. “For now.”

August 26, 2008

It takes me two weeks to ask Rory out on a date. Despite that, our friends all assumed that we were either an item or would be an item. We apparently gave off that feeling each time we all hung out as a group. In hindsight, I now know that to be true. Not that we flirted relentlessly (though we did do that). It’s the small things. Buying snacks. Saving seats. Casual touching. Easy laughter. Even easier teasing. Knowing the limit without being told. 

“Took you long enough.” She says. “I’ve been waiting!”

“You could have asked!”

“Do you really think I could manage that?”

“Nope.” I smile. “Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere with you.”

“Juliano’s.”

“Nah I’m not feeling Italian.”

“You said anywhere!”

“I lied.” She smirks. That damn smirk. “But really. Anywhere.”

September 20, 2008

Number four in my top five favorite days. 

She’s studying and I’m with her. She enjoys having company while doing things, whether or not the company is doing the same thing. She says it’s like having a dog around. It’s not studying. But looking at it every now and then or, at the least, hearing it breathing provides comfort. I’m more than happy to be that presence for her since I get something really nice to look at. 

“You can study too, you know?”

“Can’t focus with people around.”

“Then you can go.” She smiles. “You don’t have to keep me company. I’ll study with Celeste or something.”

“I’m better than Celeste.”

“Fair.” She says. “But not as good as Noah.”

“You’re just saying that because he’s gay and you want a gay best friend.”

“Yeah! And I can talk about cute boys with him. I can’t do that with you.”

“Sure you can.”

“You wouldn’t care if I talked about a cute boy I saw?”

“I mean there’s a limit.” I say. “But if you just say something like ‘Hey that barista today was really cute’ or something like that I wouldn’t mind.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I know I’m not the only cute guy you know.” I say. “As long as you don’t sound super horny and act like you wanna fuck them.”

“That’s fair.” Rory says. She nods her head in the direction of the computers.

“What do you think of him?”

There were three guys there, only one of which I’d consider attractive. “Blondie?Yeah. I’d give him an eight.”

“Me too.” She says. “What about his buddies?”

“A five and a one.”

“A one?” She laughs. “Tommy that’s so mean!”

“He’s a one to me.” I say. “Not saying he’s a one to everyone.”

“Still. I’d say he’s a four.”

“You’re very generous.”

“I’m fair.” She says. “Okay point out a girl you think is cute.”

I point at her.

“Other than me.”

I pretend to look around. Then point at her. 

“Tommy!” She laughs. “I’m serious.”

“Of all the girls that I can see right now, you are the prettiest.”

“Fine then name someone you think is pretty.”

“Celeste.”

“Tony is lucky.”

“Not as lucky as me.”

“I could never do this with my ex.”

“Same. Wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“You and I love each other.”

She blushes. 

“What?”

“You just said you love me.”

“I did.”

“And that I love you.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No.”

“Knew it.” I smile and kiss her ear. My favorite thing to do. “Say it.”

“I love you, Tommy.”

“I love you, Rory.”

March 3, 2009

We have our first major fight. It resolves quickly. I still hate watching it. I hate seeing her so agitated and I hate being the cause of it.

“How hard is it for you to text me when you make it to work?!”

“I just forget sometimes!” I shout back. “I’m not purposefully stopping myself.”

“I’ve asked you a million times.” She says. “It makes me so fucking anxious just sitting there waiting.”

“Rory what are the chances of something happening to me on the way to work?”

“It’s not zero!”

“Nothing will happen.”

“You can’t say that for sure.”

“I’m a better driver than you!”

“AND OTHER PEOPLE ARE BAD AT IT!” She screams. Her ears go red when she’s angry. “That’s not what this is fucking about, okay?!”

“Then what is it?!”

“It’s about you not listening to a basic request. You do this simple thing and it’ll give me peace of mind. Can’t you give me that?!”

“I can keep trying. I swear I’m trying.” I say. “But you need to stop accusing me like this! Why would I intentionally hurt you?!”

“I know you’re not doing it on purpose. Doesn’t stop it from hurting. Doesn’t stop me from jumping to the worst possible conclusion.”

“Okay. Okay. I understand.” I say and step closer. She lets me hug her. “I’ll be better.”

“Thank you.”

“This anxiousness of yours needs to be addressed, though.”

She’s silent for a long time. “I know.”

“I get anxious too. We can both get help.”

“Anxious peas in a pod.”

“Cute imagery.”

“Yeah.” She hugs me tightly. 

I counted it. After tonight, I forget to text her a total of 15 times. We were together for 65 years.

June 25, 2012

Number three in my top five favorite days.

My family, Rory’s family, and all our closest friends are standing behind me in the backyard of Rory’s childhood home. Most have their phones or cameras out, ready to take pictures. Two of the professionals I hired are to the side, away from the main group. Tony and Celeste, escorting Rory to what she thought was a normal summer barbecue, open the backdoor.

“Oh my god!” She yells when she sees all of us. Then she sees me get on one knee. “OH MY GOD!”

“Rory Foxhorn,” I say when she gets close to me. “I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

“Oh my god.”

“You are perfect for me in every way. I don’t care how cliche it sounds. You are my soul mate and I’ve known it for years now.”

“Oh my god.”

“Will you marry me?”

“Oh my god.”

“Is that yes?”

“YES!” She screams, barely holding still while I push the engagement ring onto her finger. She latches on to me when I stand up. “YES!”

June 25, 2013

Number two in my top five favorite days.

I watch as Rory’s dad walks her down the aisle towards me. Her shoulders are bare with lace sleeves stretching just past her elbow. The rest of the white dress contoured her body perfectly until her thighs, where it gracefully flared out to drape down to the floor. It left a minimal trail since she didn’t want one that dusted the church floor as she walked up the aisle. Her hair cascaded, yes cascaded, down just past her shoulders. I could see her ears and it made me happy to see that she was wearing the cheap earrings I had gotten her for our first anniversary. It had been all I could afford. She had gotten upset that I had spent even that meager amount. 

“You look handsome.” She whispers when she stands in front of me.

“So do you.”

“Thanks.” She giggles and looks at Noah, who is officiating our wedding. “You can begin, Noah.”

April 5, 2015 and July 8, 2017

Number one in my top five favorite days.

They’re the birthdays of our two kids, a girl and a boy, Charlie and Juno. Of course they’re going to be equal.

If I thought Rory was beautiful before she became a mother… What she was after couldn’t compare. The gentleness she used whenever picking up our children. The strict, but affectionate, extension of her pointer finger whenever they got in trouble. The laugh she had just for them whenever they did something cute. The look she’d give me whenever Charlie did or said something that’d prove her belief that she was my clone. The separate look she’d give me whenever Juno did or said something that’d prove her belief that he was my clone as well. She could find a similarity to me in every little thing they did. She claimed it wasn’t fair. But I saw the delight in her eyes whenever her children acted like their dad. It was the very same delight in mine whenever they acted like their mom.

August 9, 2034

Move-in day for Charlie. Rory cried in front of her. I only teared up and refused to let go when Charlie pulled away from the hug goodbye. 

Rory had to drive on the way home. I didn’t want to get a hotel.

August 11, 2036

Move-in day for Juno. Rory had to drive on the way home again.

I really don’t like crying in hotels.

October 3, 2072

Rory gets diagnosed with cancer. I don’t like paying attention to this day. But that’s part of the deal. I have to experience the worst parts as well.

She still smiles for me. But I know what her face looks like when I’m not looking. I’m glad I never actually see it.

November 12, 2073

My Rory is gone.

November 13, 2073

“Ah. Welcome back, Thomas.”

“I prefer Tommy.” I say.

“Did you get your fill this time?” He asks. “Are you ready to move on?”

“I’d like to go again, please.”

“It won’t be any different.”

“I don’t want it to be.”

Look me in the eye and say you’d be able to move on from a picture perfect life like mine. Tell me you’d say no to heaven.

He sighs. Then smiles at me knowingly. “Confirm with me one more time. You wish to repeat it all. Every moment from the second you are born to the second you die. It will be exactly the same. You will be an audience member of your own life, feeling every second of it as if it’s all new but unable to control your actions.”

“Yes.”

“As you wish. I will see you in 83 years.”

I love my wife. Always will.

-Saha

[sciencewithashield]

Quotes for the Ships Page

This took me forever to do, because I had to do serious searching for some of these older ships. But here are the quotes I considered putting on my relationships page. The ones that are in bold are the quotes I decided to go with.

It’s super long, so the quotes are under the readmore. (Sorry if you’re on mobile)

Pepperony -- 

Tony: “You hate it, don’t you? It’s alright if you do, I can fly you back and we can pretend this never happened.” Pepper: “It’s perfect. Stop worrying. Please. Be calm for me.” 

Tony: “Shall we, Mrs. Stark?…Or would I be Mr. Potts?” Pepper: “Mrs. Stark, would be fine, Tony. You’ll be Mr. Potts when you’re in trouble.”

Pepper: “Um…those are for potty training.” Tony: “It’s never too early to start potty training.”  Pepper: “You can’t potty train a newborn Tony.” 

Tony: “They also love you, but they’re not important right now.” Pepper: “And who is important right now?”  Tony: “I’m lookin’ at her.”

American Frost -- 

Steve: “Hey. You wanna know something?” Loki: “Sure, why not?”  Steve: “...I like you.” Loki: “Oh…well, I like you, too?” 

Steve: “Are you really threatening to start another war if I don’t kiss you?” Loki: “Yes. Now you have 6 seconds left. 5…4…My lips are still unkissed, do you not care for your realm? 3..”

Loki: “I’m going to get you a shirt that says ‘free bites’ and then I am going to bite you again.” Steve: “Yeah, but then other people are going to bite me too, and then you’ll get all jealous and turn them into frogs.” Loki: “No, I’d probably turn them into roaches.  Those are more likely to get stepped on.”

Steve: “Stop being weird, you’re scaring people.” Loki: “They should be scared. I’m a scary man.” 

IronPool -- 

Wade: “STOP BREAKING THE FORTH WALL, THAT’S MY THING” Tony: “Shhh, baby, shush. You don’t own the fourth wall.”

Wade: "I was just going to check to see if you were wearing underwear, Ton."  Tony: “Of course I am. Stop getting all handsy.”

Wade: “Awww I love you guys. Especially you, Tony.” Tony: “Aww, kinda close, Wade.”

Wade: "We’ve been best friends ever since. It even says so on my relationships page.” Tony: “Yeah, okay. We’re barely friends. I think saying that we’re ‘besties’ is pushing it.”

Snail Royalty -- 

Bruce:  “ I’ve been watching you this whole time.” Zorii: "And I've been watching you watching me." Bruce:  “And I’ve been watching you watching me watching you.”

Zorii:  “You smell like puppy hugs, also your hair is really soft.” Bruce:  "Well this isn’t creepy at all.”

Zorii:  "I think I'm going to go get a tattoo that says 'my best friend is Bruce Banner, hurt him and I'll break your neck'." Bruce:  “Zorii…I don’t think you should do that. But I appreciate the thought.”

Zorii:  “ How many times have I woken up from a nap to see you just staring at me, Bruce?" Bruce: “That’s different. It’s cute when I do it.” Zorii:  "It's still creepy, Brucey."

Christine & Steve -- 

Steve:  “Being my bestie is not a job where you can clock in and clock out.” Christine:  “I am sure someone said the same thing about sex many years ago, but look at prostitution now. It’s everywhere.”

Christine:  "I suppose that is why you look so excited to see your least favorite person." Steve:  “While I do have least favorite people, you are not one of them.”

Christine:  “No matter how much you poke your chest out, mine is going to be bigger.” Steve:  “I dunno, I think we’re the same bra size.”

Christine: “Are you planning on flirting with me in the near future?” Steve:  “You’ll know when I’m flirting because I’m terrible at it.”

IronBread2k16 --

Spyro: “It’s not fun when you visit, Tony.” Tony: “It’s fun for me.”

Spyro: “Cleaning is an everyday thing, Tony.” Tony:  “I’m starting to think you came back just to nag me.” 

Spyro:  “Don’t patronize me.” Tony: “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Tony:  “You’re a little shit, you know that?” Spyro: “I learned from you, my tiny friend.”

Tony & Ilana -- 

Ilana:  “You’re awesome dad ya know.”  Tony: “Alright, what’s going on? Do you want something?”

Tony:  “…………..Ilana, why am I always the last to be invited?” Ilana: “.…Because you’re usually hiding when we are chatting…”

Ilana: ❝ Is it finally over?  I’d love to go out without getting punched. ❞ Tony:  ❝There doesn’t seem to ever be an end to…this. Just brief pauses. Time to catch our breath.❞

Tony: “Compared to how I was a few years ago, yeah, I’d say I’m doing my best.” Ilana:  ”Well -… congratulations on the effort.”

The Nerds -- 

Taru: “Who would you rather date, me or Tony?"  Tony: “It’s a simple question, Brucie Bear. Just pick me already. We all know you’re going to anyway.” Bruce: “Shut up, Tony! I need to think…”

Tony:  “As I see it, we have two options: Pretend the last five minutes never happened and go back to the way things were, or…or we see where this goes.” Taru:  “Where this goes… Hmm. Sounds like an adventure.“ Bruce: “...Player 3 has entered the game!” 

Taru: “Don’t talk badly about yourself. It makes me sad, that you can’t see the wonderful man that I do.” Tony: “Yeah, Brucie, you’re a pretty handsome guy! The silver fox thing could work for you.” Bruce: “You guys...no...”

Taru: "Friendly reminder that Bruce is the finest wine that I've seen in a long time and Tony has an ass that won't quit." Bruce: “Well, that’s the last time I put you on speaker during a meeting.” Tony: “This ass has been blessed by the gods.”

Stray -- 

Steve: “Maybe I’ll be in your dreams~” Ray:  "And if ya already have been? Too bad ya will never know huh."

Steve:  “I wanted to draw something beautiful on someone beautiful…” Ray:  "Stop, ya are gunna make me blush." 

Ray: “Ya will always have the upper hand Steve.  Ya are twice my size ‘n like a million times stronger but I ain’t helpless.” Steve: “I won’t hurt you, Ray. Whatever’s going on with me, there’s gotta be another way to… to stop feeling like this.”

Steve: “I love you, you know? I love you, and…thank you, Ray.” Ray:  “Ya never need ta thank me, cause this is what people do for the people they love.  I’m never gunna stop.”

Tony & Ray -- 

Ray:   “I dunno what I’d do without you.”  Tony:  “I know, I’m the best. But that’s not what this one-person intervention is about.”

Ray:  "Everythin' 'bout me is cute." Tony:  “Sweetie, I am the pinnacle of hotness. Doesn’t get any better than this.” Ray:  "Excuse me.... I am the hottest thin' in this tower."

Ray:  “I know it’s what drives ya ta be Iron Man ‘n ta be a savoir.  But dammit…  Ya hafta let someone save you.” Tony: “Who’s gonna save me, Rachel? At this point, I’m a lost cause. I dunno if I can be saved.” 

Ray: "I need your help.... I wanna do somethin' special for Steven. Could you like maybe help?” Tony:  “You keep coming to me with these problems like I’m interested in your love life. To be fair, I would be, if you love life didn’t include Steve.”

Science Pros/The Bet -- 

Tony: “You can’t blame yourself for what Hulk does.” Bryce: “Since she won’t take responsibility for her actions, someone has to.”

Bryce: “Science Pros! I know it’s not alliterate, but it sounds good, kind of like ‘science bros.’” Tony: “But you’re not a bro, you’re a Bryce.”

Bryce: “If it would make you feel any better, I’m sure we could find someone else to tell us that we wouldn’t work out a couple.” Tony: “It’s not the same coming from someone else! It needs to come from you or else it’s not sincere!” 

Tony: “Bryce Banner, would you be my fake girlfriend so our friends will lose money?”  Bryce: “Oh Tony… yes, yes I will.”

Domestic Cuties -- 

Cait:  “You are cut like a Greek god and that’s all I’m gonna say.” Steve:  “….Do Greek gods have Dorito-shaped bodies?”

Steve:  “Sorry, had to take the stairs. Elevator was too slow.” Cait: "Only you would think the elevator was too slow, Steve." Steve: “It was slow for me…”

Cait: “What kind of wife would I be if I didn’t let you burn off those almonds?”  Steve: “Hey, almonds have some fat in them.”

Cait: “Steve, you are the only one that I can both rely upon and trust.” Steve: “You ‘n me against the world…”

B-rock & B-ban -- 

B-Rock: “We are connected. Through the weed and our names.” B-Ban: “You and me? We’re like brothers. Only closer.”

B-Rock: “ I mean, you’re attractive, I could possibly be specially gay for you.” B-Ban: “You just admitted that you weren’t gay for me, and I’m very much in your league.”

B-Ban: “I don’t think hair has emotions. If it did, I would walk around with a bowl-cut or something.” B-Rock:  “My hair has special emotions, just like my left eyebrow does.”

B-Ban: “I’m just lettin’ loose, man. Lettin’ off a bit of steam, no harm in that.” B-Rock: “You were just threatening me with a spoon over a tortilla chip a minute ago. I’m pretty sure that’s harm, Baby Banner.”

[suckitsurveys]

What’s your favourite cereal? Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Is there a bus stop near your house? There’s one at the end of my block. And a train station a few blocks away too. Do you prefer red wine or white wine? Red. What’s the last airport you were at? Why were you there? Midway, to pick up Sarah when she came here for my birthday.

Who do you live with? My boyfriend and my father and Satan aka my grandmother. Do you read reddit? If so, how often and what subreddits do you like? I don’t. Have you recently broken up with a significant other or even just a friend? Nope. What’s the weather like today? Is it nice enough to go outside? It’s cold. Do you know anyone who’s had a baby recently? My best friend’s sister. She named her baby Hannah after me! Just kidding but a girl can dream. Have you used a pen or pencil today? What did you write down? Yes. What does your last text message say and who is it from? I don’t feel like typing it because it requires so much context. Can you count how many times you’ve seen your favourite film? Nope. I’ve seen it A LOT. When was the last time you ate marshmallows? Recently, in hot chocolate. Do you listen to any podcasts? How do you listen to them? Nope. How old will you be in the year 2030? 40/41. Does your skin bruise easily? Do you have any bruises right now? What from? Yeah. What was the last thing you spent $150 or more on? Christmas presents. Do you prefer yes or no questions or more open-ended questions? In surveys, open-ended. What brand of toilet paper do you usually buy? The store brand. If I knocked on your door right now, would you be acceptable dressed? I’m not at my house. Why did you leave your last job? I was only hired for the season. What colour were the last socks you wore? I’m currently wearing Bob Belcher socks which are black with white heels and toes and have Bob’s face on them. Are you studying currently? What level of education and what do you study? No thank fucking god. Have you ever eaten at a restaurant and left without paying? I have, on total and complete accident. I was in the bathroom and my friend at the time was at the table and she had the check and I was under the impression we agreed she was going to pay but her dumb ass thought I was going to pay. So when I came out of the bathroom, she was outside, so I figured she took care of it, so I walked out to meet her and we were like almost to the car when I was like “so how much was it?” and she was like “i don’t know, I didn’t look because I thought you were paying.” So I went back in and told the waitress what happened and she was cool about it and I paid. What was the last thing that made you laugh out loud? There was probably something since then, but Kristen Wigg and Steve Carell’s skit at the Golden Globes. What’s your favourite scent of air freshener? Ehh, just a fresh scent is fine. How many weddings have you ever been to? Hmm. 3? I’ve been in all of them too. No wait! That’s a lie, I forgot about my cousin’s wedding a couple years ago. I was merely a guest at that one. Do you know anyone named Nora? I used to. My Aunt’s husband’s mother was named Nora, but she passed away a while ago. Are your hands and feet in good condition or could you do with a mani-pedi? My hands and feet are SO DRY. I might treat myself to a mani-pedi this Saturday. When was the last time you played a board game? What did you play? Yikes, it’s been a while since I’ve played with an actual board. I played Cards Against Humanity online the other night with Ellen and Kayla if that counts. How old were you when you first became sexually active? 20. Have you ever been to a festival for beer or other type of alcohol? Yeah, I’ve been to an OktoberFest before. Do you own a record player and/or vinyls? There is one in our attic, but it’s my fathers. I have no real interest in it on my own. When was the last time you went out for drinks? I don’t really go out just for drinks. I’m usually getting dinner too. Have you ever been to a strip club? Nope. I’d love to go to one to be honest. Do you know anyone with a ‘virtue name’? I had to look these up. I know a Faith, a couple Graces, and a Joy. I used to know a Verity but only online. Would you ever wear real authentic leather? Eh. Have you taken out the trash today? Nope. How often do you wear make-up? Rarely. I plan on wearing some this weekend for our shop’s holiday dinner. What’s your opinion on The Simpsons? I don’t hate it but I’ve never really gotten super into it. Do you prefer horizontal or vertical stripes? Both are nice. Do you know anyone who has been through a divorce? A few people, yeah. If you had the money, would you take taxis everywhere instead of driving? No. I hate taxis and uber and lyft. Have you ever done a juice cleanse? No, because they’re all giant scams. Do you have any friends who you can’t decide if they’re attractive or not? I am friends with someone I was friends with in gradeschool on Facebook and she always posts really unflattering pictures of her face but every once in a while there will be a really pretty one so I’m like what is the truth? Is the inside of your fridge clean right now or does it need a clean out? Ugh we need to clean all of them out. The fridge in our kitchen gets filled up because my grandmother saves EVERYTHING she doesn’t eat. The mini fridge Mark and I have in the basement has been ignored because we have a full size one now, which can stand to be wiped down. That mini fridge is so gross we are afraid to open it haha. When was the last time you washed the dishes? Mark is usually the one who does the dishes. Are there any magazines that you read on a regular basis? There aren’t. Do you have to pay for parking in most places in the town/city you live in? Yeah, it’s so stupid because it’s not like there are free buses and trains and shit so whatever you do you have to pay to go places. Unless you are crafty and can find free spots. What’s the first thing you tend to do when you have a headache? Take something. Tell me about your responsibilities at work. I open doors with magic. Can you hear lots of traffic from your house? Does it bother you? There’s an expressway and train track basically in our backyard. I don’t really notice it inside the house, except for if the windows are open, but even then it doesn’t bother me. You become used to it really easily. The trains you can hear and feel on the inside of the house every once in a while, but not enough to disturb anything we are doing. Have you ever had proper Canadian poutine with the squeaky cheese? No, poutine does NOT appeal to me at all because I do not like gravy. Do your parents know how to operate smartphones and/or computers? My dad is pretty good with his phone and computer. How old are your parents, anyway? My father is 67 in April. Are you allergic to anything? What do you have to do to prevent them? Nope. What song is stuck in your head at the moment? There isn’t one. What’s your boss’ first name? Do you call him/her by that name? His first name is Anthony. Everyone calls him Tony. When was the last time you wore a uniform of any kind? What colour was it? It’s been AGES. Did you complete a survey before taking this one? Will you take one after? I did and maybe if I find one I like. Have you ever lost enough weight to drop a dress size? Hah. What’s your favourite kind of bread? Garlic. When was the last time you got pizza? What toppings did you get? It was fairly recently. There was definitely pepperoni on it. Do you own Monopoly? Is it the original or a special version? Yup. I have a Nightmare Before Christmas version I have literally never played haha. I think I have an original version too. What was the last thing you said out loud? ”Okay” You have to choose one: cats or dogs? Cats. How do you travel to and from work? My car that’s probably going to explode any day now. Do you primarily use cash or card for your purchases? Why? My credit or debit card. Because its SO convenient. Have you ever been to a stadium concert? Yeah, I’ve seen a few bands in stadium concerts. I saw Red Hot Chili Peppers with my sister like 10 years ago. And when I was younger I vaguely remember seeing the Counting Crows (hi @tapiooocasurveys) with my sister and father at a stadium. And Bob Dylan too. I feel there’s probably another one I’m forgetting. OH! Blink-182 when I was a pre-teen.