◜continued from here◞
[ She completely assumed he'd think she's making fun of him, so his reaction is a pleasant surprise. Favorite girl? She'll take it. Disturbing? She's glad to know he didn't like it. ]
I have a list if you want the rest of it.
I'd say keep it coming since it's been a long week and my ego's taken a hit, but we should probably save something for a rainy day.
It's been a while since we sparred, hasn't it?
It's been a while since we sparred, hasn't it?
Edited 2024-10-20 20:42 (UTC)
don't worry about it, there's never any rush! and i know how that goes welp
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dysmorphics
- 2024-10-20 21:09 (UTC) - Expand◜continued from here◞
Yeah. I'm not gonna let anyone talk shit about you while I'm around. That's my job.
And Sam's, occasionally. I'll allow it.
[ She knows what he's asking but she's going to play it dumb so: ] I think ice cream. And a movie. I'm gonna go get some and hole out in my apartment. I'll save you a pint if you want any. Pumpkin spice? Cinnamon apple?
( why not prolong the inevitable? he, for one, prefers it. more time to try and convince her she's better off finding someone decent! this endeavor is proving to be more of an ordeal than he'd anticipated, possibly because she obviously has terrible taste in men/dates/whatever. maybe ... .... ... he should screen some applicants ... ... ...
but he knows better than to say so. )
Hell no. Chocolate.
but he knows better than to say so. )
Hell no. Chocolate.
◜continued from here◞
[ Her knee-jerk reaction is to refuse, because that's never really been her kind of thing. But... what the hell. Live a little, right? ]
Alright. But just one night. And no getting into trouble with the authorities. I'd hate to have to help them arrest you.
◜continued from here◞
I mean it. But only if you don't mind. I know you like having space. Otherwise I'll just spend the night on occasion and when you need to me to catsit Alpine.
[She has a point. Space is more important these days than it used to be for him. But... it's Steph. If anyone was going to be automatically allowed in any and every personal space bubble he had, it's her...]
How about we just call this a test run.
Bring enough of your stuff for... I dunno, a month or so.
If it feels like too much...we knew it might be that way in the end.
But if it feels right... you just have to get the rest of your stuff, problem solved.
[It was a middle-ground choice, and he's usually not the most fond of those. But things are different. She's different. He's definitely different. Start small, work up from there, it's been his best plan since he took his life back from Hydra.]
How about we just call this a test run.
Bring enough of your stuff for... I dunno, a month or so.
If it feels like too much...we knew it might be that way in the end.
But if it feels right... you just have to get the rest of your stuff, problem solved.
[It was a middle-ground choice, and he's usually not the most fond of those. But things are different. She's different. He's definitely different. Start small, work up from there, it's been his best plan since he took his life back from Hydra.]
I've only been gone an hour. I'll be back shortly.
Any sign of trouble there?
Any sign of trouble there?
1. It's a dog. I don't see the issue. Totally normal dog. Nothing to see here. Stop asking questions.
2. Are you the reason I have donuts this morning?
3. Maybe the forty-seventh time is the charm. You never know!
4. Two missed calls and no message? I guess I'm curious.
5. I'm not leaving my place tonight. I am staying in for the foreseeable future. I'm tired of people.
6. [ text her! ]
2. Are you the reason I have donuts this morning?
3. Maybe the forty-seventh time is the charm. You never know!
4. Two missed calls and no message? I guess I'm curious.
5. I'm not leaving my place tonight. I am staying in for the foreseeable future. I'm tired of people.
6. [ text her! ]
◜continued from here◞
They're large and octopus-like. Have you seen an octopus? They'd be fun if they weren't trying to sustain themselves by draining humans of blood.
What are you reading?
When we lived in California, yeah. I don't think actual octopodes are interested in human blood, though, you're safe.
C. S. Lewis.
C. S. Lewis.
why did i think the narnia books were published in the 20s??
primedirectives
- 2024-12-08 02:46 (UTC) - Expandomg actually the 50s WHOOPS dang i looked it up too but my brain remembered something else 🤣
dysmorphics
- 2024-12-10 09:57 (UTC) - Expandi've only ever read those not any of his others books so idk what i'm talking about now lol
primedirectives
- 2024-12-10 23:56 (UTC) - Expand◜continued from here◞
Only second? I'm hurt.
My last read was very... modern.
[ Bucky calls it the "weird sex dragon book". Guess she shouldn't have gotten a book recommendation from TikTok. ]
◜continued from here◞
You're Mobius M. Mobius, right? With the TVA?
[ She does know about miscommunication, though, so she goes to check. And yet— ]
I asked again. She said it's you.
My name is Stephanie Rogers. I was told I'm to be trained as an analyst?
[ She still doesn't understand half the things she's saying. ]
I'm Mobius yea but I'm not with the TVA anymore.
I'm retired.
At least I thought I was until you started texting me.
I'm retired.
At least I thought I was until you started texting me.
The tag reads:
[He considered a backpack leash first, but… he found these wrist strap versions instead and figured there might be other ways to repurpose them.]
[He considered a backpack leash first, but… he found these wrist strap versions instead and figured there might be other ways to repurpose them.]
Whatever she expected from the cryptic tag, it wasn't this.
She bursts out laughing as she pulls the item out of the ripped wrapping, because really? "Ooh, kinky," she says, her mind immediately going to the other purpose that she's willing to bet he absolutely intended. Strapping one end around her wrist, she teases, "You out of handcuffs? Or did you wanna pretend we're back in the 30s?" You know, when anything rougher would've probably injured her.
She bursts out laughing as she pulls the item out of the ripped wrapping, because really? "Ooh, kinky," she says, her mind immediately going to the other purpose that she's willing to bet he absolutely intended. Strapping one end around her wrist, she teases, "You out of handcuffs? Or did you wanna pretend we're back in the 30s?" You know, when anything rougher would've probably injured her.
◜continued from here◞
I could come over so you can finally use it. Rearrange your stuff a little and add some organized chaos to your life.
I might need to actually get stuff if that's the case.
◜continued from here◞
Isn't that how dating's supposed to go, or have I been doing it wrong this whole time?
[ She's not going to admit to deliberately botching said dates because he's the one she wants to date instead. He hadn't taken it well the last time she'd brought it up, so she'll just continue to avoid that topic.
What she can't avoid is squirming from the poking. This isn't really the time to be having flashbacks to that night, Stephanie. ]
The mask didn't look military grade. More like a Victorian era costume? I was surprised they could see in that thing. And they wore some kind of factory coveralls. Really dark gray, but not black.
[ for the length of a few breaths, everything goes very still and very quiet.
this is because he's closed his eyes tightly and has ceased to move, like he's trying to stave away a migraine. it's a gesture of pure mental rejection, a visceral response to the annoying absurdity of that description, as well as to the prospect of foregoing buying his damn snacks in order to deal with the flamboyant homicidal maniac of the week. he sounds nasal, like he doesn't even want to say the words. ]
A Victorian era costume?
this is because he's closed his eyes tightly and has ceased to move, like he's trying to stave away a migraine. it's a gesture of pure mental rejection, a visceral response to the annoying absurdity of that description, as well as to the prospect of foregoing buying his damn snacks in order to deal with the flamboyant homicidal maniac of the week. he sounds nasal, like he doesn't even want to say the words. ]
A Victorian era costume?
◜continued from here◞
What do you need, then, if you're trying to flatter me?
[ She doesn't buy the flattery bit, but he doesn't just text anyone for no reason. Something's up. ]
◜continued from here◞
Course you are. But your campaign manager said you were busy. Did you even get the invite? I sent it by post. It had a little doodle of you in a nice suit.
If you come, I'll introduce you to everyone. Tell them you're awesome, share embarrassing stories from when we were teenagers.
I did, because nobody sends anything by pony express anymore.
Forget the campaign. I'll always be there for you.
Forget the campaign. I'll always be there for you.
◜continued from here◞
It doesn't matter what they are. I'm just stating a fact. Doesn't mean I ain't doing this with you.
[ There's nothing she won't do for her friends. ]
[ Bucky was leaving, and there was nothing Steph could do about it, except to wait for the hours to pass.
She's wrapped in his uniform jacket with his arm around her shoulders, almost as if she might run off if he doesn't keep her close while his attention is on the flying car the Stark guy is showing off. It's not hard to feign excitement — it's a damn flying car, after all — but she doesn't really feel it. Her father had been a soldier, after all. Killed in action, during the last war, before she was born. This could be the last time she'll ever see Bucky. Her best friend, the closest she had left to a family... and the love of her life, though she's never breathed a word to him or anyone (especially not Becca!) about it.
Don't go, she wants to ask of him, but she realizes it's too late now, and it's something he could never give. Every other abled man in Brooklyn was going, laying down their lives for their country. Bucky Barnes, of all people, would never stay behind and just work in a factory or something. He would never live it down.
The flying car malfunctions, and the crowd's collective sigh of disappointment snaps her out of her thoughts. Bucky's still grinning, though. She has to smile.
"I did say a few years, didn't I?" the Stark guy says. The audience laughs and grants him a round of applause. Steph, dark humored about her condition as always, cups her hands around her mouth and yells: ] But I don't have a few years!
She's wrapped in his uniform jacket with his arm around her shoulders, almost as if she might run off if he doesn't keep her close while his attention is on the flying car the Stark guy is showing off. It's not hard to feign excitement — it's a damn flying car, after all — but she doesn't really feel it. Her father had been a soldier, after all. Killed in action, during the last war, before she was born. This could be the last time she'll ever see Bucky. Her best friend, the closest she had left to a family... and the love of her life, though she's never breathed a word to him or anyone (especially not Becca!) about it.
Don't go, she wants to ask of him, but she realizes it's too late now, and it's something he could never give. Every other abled man in Brooklyn was going, laying down their lives for their country. Bucky Barnes, of all people, would never stay behind and just work in a factory or something. He would never live it down.
The flying car malfunctions, and the crowd's collective sigh of disappointment snaps her out of her thoughts. Bucky's still grinning, though. She has to smile.
"I did say a few years, didn't I?" the Stark guy says. The audience laughs and grants him a round of applause. Steph, dark humored about her condition as always, cups her hands around her mouth and yells: ] But I don't have a few years!
Edited 2025-04-01 20:53 (UTC)
Sure you do, come on. I choose to be positive in this situation.
( It's a false positivity, however, because he's afraid of the very real threat of dying. Instead of living his life out with his family and friends there's a more than fifty percent chance he'll die in a ditch somewhere in Europe and never see anyone again.
It's why he wanted to spend his last night with Steph. Usually he tries to set her up with a date or do something in a group so she doesn't feel like he's monopolizing her but not tonight. No, tonight he wanted to spend his last hours with the girl he loved even if he was too much of a coward to just tell her. If he told her, she'd think it was pity, and he couldn't take that. It's not pity. It never was pity. )
Wanna go get popcorn? They've got the caramel kind and you know my sweet tooth can't pass that up.
( It's a false positivity, however, because he's afraid of the very real threat of dying. Instead of living his life out with his family and friends there's a more than fifty percent chance he'll die in a ditch somewhere in Europe and never see anyone again.
It's why he wanted to spend his last night with Steph. Usually he tries to set her up with a date or do something in a group so she doesn't feel like he's monopolizing her but not tonight. No, tonight he wanted to spend his last hours with the girl he loved even if he was too much of a coward to just tell her. If he told her, she'd think it was pity, and he couldn't take that. It's not pity. It never was pity. )
Wanna go get popcorn? They've got the caramel kind and you know my sweet tooth can't pass that up.
◜continued from here◞
What kind of magic have you actually witnessed? Real magic, not metaphorical magic.
Someone told me I'm gonna get to see some weird shit but, you know, I'm not there yet. Because of this time thing.
[ ......................................... this is just banter, right? He's not actually...? ]
The pain in the ass kind?
Hey, Scott. Got half an hour after your book signing to talk business? I have a proposal.
◜continued from here◞
There's this hole in the wall Sam took me to once, with a mostly military clientele, so we shouldn't get hassled too much. If you wanna try it.
[ It's mostly for his sake than hers. She's more used to dealing with people, as evidenced by her hanging out so openly in the park. Then again, the public's image of her is mostly the suit and shield, not a walking Barbie in a dress, ballet flats and a sun hat. ]
The Count of Monte Cristo by Dumas. It's the book club pick. A bit slow, but I like it. And the book is thick and heavy enough to fight with, if needed.
Not a secret, just a low profile. Don't want your approval ratings to be influenced by it, you know? Though it probably helps having a trophy wife at those galas and things.
[ She's no trophy and she's also not a wife, but he knows what she means. ]
Yeah, let's go. I could use an excuse to let off some steam. [ Not that alcohol does anything for either of them. Not that he can actually let loose the fight that's been building up in him for months now. He'd taken for granted how easy throwing a punch was when they'd been kids. Though it had always felt especially good if it was for or to back up Steph.]
I'll trade you. I haven't tested it, but I think the manilla files could do some slicing in a pinch.
Being seen with you would be a favor to my profile and my approval. [ And he doesn't want this to be that. He's waited too long to let something stupid like politics complicate things. ] I like having you all to myself. And if my constituents can overlook my past, they can overlook me being single. I hate those things anyway.
I'll trade you. I haven't tested it, but I think the manilla files could do some slicing in a pinch.
Being seen with you would be a favor to my profile and my approval. [ And he doesn't want this to be that. He's waited too long to let something stupid like politics complicate things. ] I like having you all to myself. And if my constituents can overlook my past, they can overlook me being single. I hate those things anyway.
allow me to offer you peggy for threading fun. i just got back to rp'ing after a forever hiatus.
shieldingfoundation
2025-06-16 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)
An hour then. But make note that after the two-hour mark, I'm coming in with reinforcements. (A highly rated company from Yelp.)
[ Steph could hear the music and the laughter from the women's barracks, and she had, in fact, already changed into her uniform to join in the revelry, but she couldn't make herself do it. So she's still sitting on the edge of her bed, staring down at her hands, which are shaking when they shouldn't be.
There had been many horrors in that HYDRA factory: their soldiers in cages, Bucky half-dead on that cold metal table, Schmidt peeling back his face, the weapons that disintegrated people in flashes of blue light, the deafening sounds of gunfire. But none had been as horrifying as the first time Steph had swung her shield right into a man's throat, killing him instantly. She can still feel his warm blood on her face and neck, no matter how much and how hard she'd scrubbed in the shower when they'd returned to camp.
She turns to reach for the sketchpad tucked under her pillow. The pencil nearly snaps in two from how much her fingers are shaking, and she has to pause and close her eyes and take in a deep breath. Then she starts to draw the outline of Peggy's familiar, comforting face. ]
There had been many horrors in that HYDRA factory: their soldiers in cages, Bucky half-dead on that cold metal table, Schmidt peeling back his face, the weapons that disintegrated people in flashes of blue light, the deafening sounds of gunfire. But none had been as horrifying as the first time Steph had swung her shield right into a man's throat, killing him instantly. She can still feel his warm blood on her face and neck, no matter how much and how hard she'd scrubbed in the shower when they'd returned to camp.
She turns to reach for the sketchpad tucked under her pillow. The pencil nearly snaps in two from how much her fingers are shaking, and she has to pause and close her eyes and take in a deep breath. Then she starts to draw the outline of Peggy's familiar, comforting face. ]
[ There's always a vague sense of guilt on nights like these, when the camp is in high spirits and eager to celebrate a victory - any victory - at all. She can't blame them for wanting to live life to its fullest when it could end at any moment but it's still hard to ignore the missing faces in the crowd. There's one face, however, that it is impossible to ignore, and Peggy finds herself slipping out of the main hall and going in search of the woman of the hour.
She's alone, sitting on her perfectly made bed with a sketchpad and pencil. Peggy contemplates leaving her in peace but somehow a celebration without her feels impossible. She can still feel the remnants of her heartache when she'd been unable to raise Captain Rogers on the comm earlier that day, only to have her and the others walk into camp a few hours later. She had squeezed Steph's hand so tightly that she was sure she would break it, super soldier serum or not, because she'd been unable to give her the hug she desperately wanted to in front of the others.
She approaches slowly, careful to make her heels heard so that she doesn't actually catch her by surprise. If she wants to be alone, Peggy won't deny her that. When she's close enough to view the sketchpad she glances at it, her breath catching slightly at the detail and softness of it. There's no doubt that it's her, but it's beautiful in a way that is rarely reflected in the mirror these days. She tries to check her flattery, her voice cheerful but tired, measured but soft. ] Moved on from monkeys, have we?
She's alone, sitting on her perfectly made bed with a sketchpad and pencil. Peggy contemplates leaving her in peace but somehow a celebration without her feels impossible. She can still feel the remnants of her heartache when she'd been unable to raise Captain Rogers on the comm earlier that day, only to have her and the others walk into camp a few hours later. She had squeezed Steph's hand so tightly that she was sure she would break it, super soldier serum or not, because she'd been unable to give her the hug she desperately wanted to in front of the others.
She approaches slowly, careful to make her heels heard so that she doesn't actually catch her by surprise. If she wants to be alone, Peggy won't deny her that. When she's close enough to view the sketchpad she glances at it, her breath catching slightly at the detail and softness of it. There's no doubt that it's her, but it's beautiful in a way that is rarely reflected in the mirror these days. She tries to check her flattery, her voice cheerful but tired, measured but soft. ] Moved on from monkeys, have we?
◜continued from here◞
You gonna keep me guessing, or can we stay honest for the rest of the night? Don't worry, I ain't gonna make you spill your life story or anything.
Keep you guessing about what? How much I'd love to see you in one of those outfits and slowly take it off of you, enjoying you the entire time?
You'll have to let me know if you'd like that for your birthday.
You'll have to let me know if you'd like that for your birthday.
◜continued from here◞
Did Nat make out with you too or was that just me?
Okay, let's look for a timeline where you can smash face with Buck. There's gotta be one where he's into us.
She smashed her lips to mine and pushed her tongue in my mouth while we were undercover. I had no idea what to do. Then she made fun of me for not kissing anyone after being unfrozen.
That sounds really good. Happy Birthday to me.
That sounds really good. Happy Birthday to me.
[ When Hollywood comes knocking on his door for the rights to his life story - and let's be honest, it'll be sooner than later - this might be the most unbelievable twist that the audience won't be able to believe. Captain Fucking America being found in a block of ice and defrosted like a Swanson frozen dinner and then coming to New York to see the son of her long lost pal, Howard.
It makes him chuckle to himself, just thinking about it, even if his mouth is dry and his stomach is in knots. She has no idea what a monumental meeting this is for him. She has no way of knowing what she'd meant to his father, the shadow she'd cast over his mother, the way that Tony had thought the way into his father's heart was learning as much as he possibly could about a nobody from Brooklyn. He stares at his reflection in the overly polished elevator doors and waits for them to open at the penthouse level where his office and well stocked bar is. There's no way he's doing this sober. He slides on a pair of shades before the elevator comes to a stop and strides out onto the floor full of purpose and gusto. Pepper is waiting for him on the pristine white sofa, her blackberry in one hand and portfolio in another.
Beside her is the woman that's always been the biggest unknown in the equations that used to matter before Afghanistan. Christ, she doesn't look older than twenty five. So normal looking that she could be the receptionist at the front desk downstairs if she wore frumpy dresses instead of Gucci. Pepper gracefully gets to her feet, plastering on a smile that is silently begging Tony to be nice.] Tony, there you are. This is Stephanie—
Rogers. [ He finishes, pulling off the shades and offering a hand for her to shake. ] The woman, the myth, the legend.
[ Pepper clears her throat and gives him a look before turning to Rogers. ] Captain Rogers, it was an honor to meet you. [ She gives her a small nod before moving to the elevator.]
You're not going to stick around? [ It's their code for "come back in fifteen with an emergency". Pepper narrows her eyes and shakes her head. ] Sorry, I've got a conference call in five.
Cancel it.
[ Pepper forces a tight lipped smile at him as she steps in the elevator. ] No. [ The doors close and she's gone. ]
[ Tony sighs and moves towards the ceiling to floor bar. He starts pouring himself a drink of the strongest stuff he has, finally looking Stephanie Rogers in the eyes. ] What's your poison, Cap?
It makes him chuckle to himself, just thinking about it, even if his mouth is dry and his stomach is in knots. She has no idea what a monumental meeting this is for him. She has no way of knowing what she'd meant to his father, the shadow she'd cast over his mother, the way that Tony had thought the way into his father's heart was learning as much as he possibly could about a nobody from Brooklyn. He stares at his reflection in the overly polished elevator doors and waits for them to open at the penthouse level where his office and well stocked bar is. There's no way he's doing this sober. He slides on a pair of shades before the elevator comes to a stop and strides out onto the floor full of purpose and gusto. Pepper is waiting for him on the pristine white sofa, her blackberry in one hand and portfolio in another.
Beside her is the woman that's always been the biggest unknown in the equations that used to matter before Afghanistan. Christ, she doesn't look older than twenty five. So normal looking that she could be the receptionist at the front desk downstairs if she wore frumpy dresses instead of Gucci. Pepper gracefully gets to her feet, plastering on a smile that is silently begging Tony to be nice.] Tony, there you are. This is Stephanie—
Rogers. [ He finishes, pulling off the shades and offering a hand for her to shake. ] The woman, the myth, the legend.
[ Pepper clears her throat and gives him a look before turning to Rogers. ] Captain Rogers, it was an honor to meet you. [ She gives her a small nod before moving to the elevator.]
You're not going to stick around? [ It's their code for "come back in fifteen with an emergency". Pepper narrows her eyes and shakes her head. ] Sorry, I've got a conference call in five.
Cancel it.
[ Pepper forces a tight lipped smile at him as she steps in the elevator. ] No. [ The doors close and she's gone. ]
[ Tony sighs and moves towards the ceiling to floor bar. He starts pouring himself a drink of the strongest stuff he has, finally looking Stephanie Rogers in the eyes. ] What's your poison, Cap?
Edited 2025-07-12 23:26 (UTC)
Mr. Stark.
[ Out of the Captain America suit, Stephanie Rogers is almost unremarkable, just a stereotypical blonde American woman with a questionable fashion sense. But her handshake is firm, and her posture has a military quality to it. She gives Tony a well-practiced smile, one that softens into something more genuine when Pepper bids her leave. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Potts," she says, and even that is softer, too.
She tries not to stare at Tony as he moves about the room. God, Howard has a son. A son. Who looks and is a lot like him, if the articles she's read could be believed. Yet she still can't quite wrap her mind around that, even if it's already been weeks since she'd been hauled from the ice and forced back out into the world. Even after having gone to see Peggy, and Bucky's sister, Becca, who'd both been old and senile and had believed her dead. Even after having had better food, learning that polio had been eradicated, and discovering the Internet. Yeah, she's definitely not in 1945 anymore.
She hesitates, then follows Tony to the bar. It's fancy, unlike the bars she'd been to in the course of the war, but she at least knows this particular language of men. She runs her fingers along the countertop for a moment, studying the handiwork, before distractedly answering— ]
Whiskey.
[ —only to be slammed with the realization that she'd started taking whiskey because it had been Bucky's drink of choice. Quickly, she sits down on one of the stools and surreptitiously grips her thighs so she doesn't get overtaken by her grief or accidentally destroy her host's furniture. ]
Thank you for taking the time to see me. This must be—
[ Out of the Captain America suit, Stephanie Rogers is almost unremarkable, just a stereotypical blonde American woman with a questionable fashion sense. But her handshake is firm, and her posture has a military quality to it. She gives Tony a well-practiced smile, one that softens into something more genuine when Pepper bids her leave. "The pleasure is mine, Miss Potts," she says, and even that is softer, too.
She tries not to stare at Tony as he moves about the room. God, Howard has a son. A son. Who looks and is a lot like him, if the articles she's read could be believed. Yet she still can't quite wrap her mind around that, even if it's already been weeks since she'd been hauled from the ice and forced back out into the world. Even after having gone to see Peggy, and Bucky's sister, Becca, who'd both been old and senile and had believed her dead. Even after having had better food, learning that polio had been eradicated, and discovering the Internet. Yeah, she's definitely not in 1945 anymore.
She hesitates, then follows Tony to the bar. It's fancy, unlike the bars she'd been to in the course of the war, but she at least knows this particular language of men. She runs her fingers along the countertop for a moment, studying the handiwork, before distractedly answering— ]
Whiskey.
[ —only to be slammed with the realization that she'd started taking whiskey because it had been Bucky's drink of choice. Quickly, she sits down on one of the stools and surreptitiously grips her thighs so she doesn't get overtaken by her grief or accidentally destroy her host's furniture. ]
Thank you for taking the time to see me. This must be—
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