dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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bomberqueen17:

An Age Of Ultron reaction snippet. I don’t know where this came from or what I mean it to lead into. Steve, Tony, Wanda, coffee, and a discussion of deep dark fears. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, groping hastily for a dishtowel to stop the spread of coffee across the counter. Tony opened his mouth, and Steve glowered at him. “If you even open your fuckin’ mouth right now, Stark—“

“You’ll what?” Tony asked. “What will you to do me, huh?”

“You don’t want to find out,” Steve said.

“Creative,” Tony said, nodding thoughtfully. “Well, about as creative as I’d expect from a man with no dark side.”

Wanda, hithertofore unnoticed at the table behind him, laughed sharply, then cut herself off. Tony turned to look at her. “What,” he said.

“I said nothing,” she said, innocent.

“No, no,” Tony said, “that wasn’t a nothing laugh. You were laughing at Steve not having a dark side, and I know you’ve seen it. Spill, Spookypants.”

“Nicknames like that do not endear you to me,” Wanda said darkly over the edge of her coffee cup, but Steve could see she wasn’t really offended. “But come now, Stark, how long have you known Rogers? You sincerely believe he has no dark side?”

Tony squinted at her, then looked over at Steve, who made his expression as neutral as he could muster as he cleaned up the spilled coffee. It had, of course, been the last of the coffee, and he of course had to put a new pot on and wait for it, and while Stark’s machines were incredibly fast at making coffee, it still meant he had to stand here for this.

“The rest of us were all rattled as fuck from your little stunt,” Tony said, “and Steve came out of it fresh as a fuckin’ daisy. What conclusion am I gonna draw from that?”

Wanda sipped from her cup, then stuck the saucer over the mouth of the cup, swirled it, and set it upside down, still connected. She held it for a moment, watching the outside of the cup where nothing was visible, and then picked up the cup, and considered the resulting sludge on the saucer. Maybe, Steve reflected, that hadn’t been coffee she was drinking. Tea?

She poked idly at the mess on her saucer with a finger. “I think you have it backwards, Stark,” she said. “It is not that Rogers has no dark side. It is that he has nothing but a dark side. I could not show him anything he did not already know. The worst things he can imagine have happened already to him.” She looked up, and smiled at both of them, a tight sad little smile.

Steve set his jaw and looked down, wishing he’d just given up on the coffee and left before this. Tony was staring at him but he wasn’t going to return the look, not now.

“You’re telling me Captain America is all dark side,” Tony said.

“No,” Wanda said. She stood up and came over to rinse her cup and saucer in the sink. Belatedly Steve recognized Turkish coffee, and wondered why he hadn’t thought of that before. Of course this kitchen had equipment to make Turkish coffee.

“Then what the fuck did you mean by that?” Tony demanded.

She ignored Tony for a moment, looking up at Steve, who made himself meet her gaze. “There is nothing left to fear,” she said, and her voice was unexpectedly kind. “You have already lived through the worst, and it has broken you.”

“He hardly looks like a broken man,” Tony said, gesturing, but Steve looked at him then, and could see his doubt.

“Neither do I, I daresay,” Wanda said, “but once you have already lost everything, there is not a great deal you can hide from yourself, down in the dark corners of your soul.”

Tony blinked at her, blinked at Steve, and took a step back. “This is a damn disconcerting conversation,” he said.

“Well, Stark,” Wanda said, “you did ask for it.”

(was going thru, for some reason, my Tumblr archives from 2015, and found this, which is probably in the Full of Grace ‘verse, which I haven’t revisited, but I rather liked it, so I’m reblogging it for those of y’all who didn’t follow me then. 

Man AoU was such a dumb movie.)
dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
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Oh oh oh this made me go back thru my Giant Scrivener Doc O’ Fanfic and find the thing I remember as my earliest foray into this fandom, after TWS came out and I was like OH MY GODDDDDDD (as so many people were), and I found a gem, a real gem, that has never been incorporated into anything. This is the abortive first flailings of my getting into this fandom. 

I HAD COMPLETELY FORGOTTEN. 

This is for you. 

— “Can you tell us a little about what Captain America is like as a person?” the woman asked, smiling with a lot of teeth, shoving a microphone at Natasha’s face.

Sam grimaced, actually physically tensing to prepare for what would happen when Natasha thigh-choked and flipped the woman, but Natasha just pushed the microphone back slightly with her palm, steadied it, and smiled dangerously.

“He’s very nice,” she said. The woman had noticed Sam’s facial acrobatics, and his unwittingly skeptical look now, and turned her attention on him.

“Are you a friend of his?” the woman asked, predatory, moving the microphone over to Sam.

“Sure am,” Sam said easily, but he was sort of annoyed; c’mon, there weren’t a lot of black dudes who flew around New York with actual wings, it was pretty rich that nobody ever recognized him.

“Can you tell us anything unexpected?” the woman asked. “What about Captain America would you least expect?”

“He cusses like a sailor when he doesn’t think anybody’s listening,” Sam said, counting off on his fingers. “That’s number one. Number two, he will not put his damn smartphone down for anything. If it’s not texts, he’s Tweeting, he’s playing games on it, he’s— oh my God he beat my Flappy Bird score, I was so mad—“

“State secrets,” Natasha said.

“Oh,” Sam said, “oh, and this girl, oh, you know I think she actually beat Flappy Bird, I can’t even. I just— I can’t even, y’know?”

“That’s classified,” Natasha said, and now the woman was looking at her again. She hadn’t known who Natasha was either. Man this chick was dumb.

“And number three,” Sam said, drawing the woman’s attention back. “Number three, in the list of things you would not expect about Steve Rogers, is that—“

“Is that he’s standing right behind you,” Steve said, amused. He put an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “What foul lies are you spreading?”

“I told them about the cussing,” Sam said.

“No,” Steve said, laughing, hiding his face behind his hand. “Oh god. My image.”

“You filthy, man,” Sam said.

“I try,” Steve said earnestly to the woman. “I really try not to say bad words. I tried the thing where you put a rubber band around your wrist and snap it! I tried putting a quarter in the swear jar, I tried all of it. It’s just, you know, you stub your toe, are you really, really gonna say jeepers? Phooey! C’mon. I grew up in Brooklyn, we never talked like that.”

“That’s the truth,” Sam commented, slipping easily into the entertaining-sidekick mode for the benefit of the cameras. He’d never been one to Tom it up but for Steve, sometimes, he found himself doing it anyway.

“How come you don’t wanna ask me for secrets about the Falcon?” Steve asked the interviewer, gesturing at Sam. “He’s way cooler than me! He has a jetpack with wings and more actual service-related military decorations than me.”

Sam actually blushed a little, really touched. “You’re a good dude,” he said to Steve.

“Not as good a dude as you,” Steve said, and shook him a little. “I got a secret about the Falcon: he snores.”

“I do not!” Sam exclaimed, batting at Steve’s arm. “Oh! I do not!”

“Like a chainsaw,” Steve said to the interviewer, then laughingly pulled Sam away into the building. “What was your third thing gonna be?” he asked Sam as they went through the door.

“Hm?”

“The third thing you were gonna tell her,” Steve said.

“I was gonna tell her you drink milk straight from the carton,” Sam said.

Steve laughed. “It’s my apartment, it’s my refrigerator, I do what I want.”

______

Steve woke up as Bucky settled onto the bed, kneeling astride his chest, ruthlessly trapping his arms with precisely-placed knees. “Muh,” Steve said, startled but too groggy to react— and too restrained by his instinctive awareness that this was Bucky and sudden motions were out of line. “Whuh?”
Bucky was holding— he was holding a laptop, open, shoving the screen into Steve’s face.
It was a headline. “CAPTAIN AMERICA IS GAY!” it read.
“Is what,” Steve said blankly, focusing with difficulty on the smaller type. Yes, his eyesight was excellent, but he had been awake for six and a half seconds and Bucky was really heavy.
Bucky let out a cackle of laughter. “This is the best one yet,” he said, and stood up, dropping the laptop on Steve’s chest. “This is awesome. Now will you fuck him already?”
Steve shoved himself up on an elbow, rescuing the laptop as it lurched off toward the floor, and read the story. “Caught outside the gala last night on the red carpet, we snagged an interview with two of Steve Rogers’s friends as Captain America signed autographs. Sam Wilson, better known as the Falcon, revealed intimate knowledge of Captain America’s home habits, but the real shocker was when Cap himself returned to the conversation, embracing the Falcon in a definitely more-than-friendly way and telling our surprised correspondent about some of the Falcon’s habits in bed!”
Steve sighed. “Coulson’ll probably want to kill me,” he said, “but honestly, I don’t see the harm.”
“So fuck him,” Bucky said, raw and intense, “for the love of God, you deserve to have something,” and it suddenly wasn’t all that funny, and he was gone.

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