stark onoudidnt
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[sticky post]Semi-friends Only

I'll update this with more info later, but all past posts have been made friends-only, and future posts are probably going to be a mix. I'll play with fic posts in a couple weeks and make them more available, but for now, AO3 and FFnet. Sorry for the inconvenience, comment to be added.

<3

Update 05/03/2015: I stepped down from the reddit position and it's been a few months since I left, so hopefully by now any stalkers have lost interest. Celebrate! I'll be slowly opening this up again, and you can also find me on tumblr at http://magicbayleaf.tumblr.com/

stark onoudidnt
semebay

i miss you guys

life has sucked lately, but i've been reading through some of my old posts tonight because i've been sharing them with a friend and just

i really really miss you guys. i wish i could force myself to be more active. i wish there were still people here

stark onoudidnt
semebay

I write fanfic again, but sometimes I get some things that just don't work out

Also I am now employed. !!! Be excited, because I am. Very much so, I am so excited.

So I've written some new fanfic. I have a small ongoing series of crack fics that revolve around Steve/Captain America and the toaster that stalks him (The Toaster Who Shot Me), and I'm writing a Clint/Coulson long fic revolving around soul mate dynamics and high school (high school AUs are such a guilty pleassure of mine), and I'm also writing a Steve/Tony fic about Tony going undercover and being horrible at it that is just not going well. I'm going to completely rewrite it, I think, but I wanna put it up here so I can see where not to go. lol. (It's under the spoiler tag).
[To be rewritten]

Meetings suck. Scratch that. Meetings Suck, capital S for emphasis. Tony’s sure they would should suck more if he actually paid attention to what they were discussing, but he takes the Barton route and ignores them. Instead he draws on napkins and loudly interrupts with his coffee order when it looks like they’re close to making a decision. Occasionally he’ll look up and see what they’ve got on the monitors, then go back to doodling stars when it’s always another underground bunker overrun with crazies with leather fetishes. Or whatever. He’s not sure what the deal is with leather, but Barton wears it, and he’s pretty sure Natasha wears it (he tried to get a close look once, but she is incredibly fast and made of pointy things), and he’s not sure where that thought was supposed to go because now there’s a picture of the president and an invitation to some White House event, and like hell is he letting Barton traipse in there to mix up the spoons and completely blow his… cover? Something.

“I’m taking this one,” Tony says loudly, and he finds it slightly rude that the room just falls silent and everyone stares at him. Even Barton, who was definitely sleeping not five seconds ago. And Barton, eloquent as he is, is the one to break the silence with a flat, “What.” Emphasis on the period, because not a question, and there’s the silence again.

“Stark, this may not be something you’re capable of,” Coulson says, which in human-speak is, “No. Hell no. Fuck no.” Tony knows this. He’s researched it, he has a Coulson-to-English dictionary on his personal server that Barton has contributed to extensively.

“I’ll take Steve,” Tony says when he finally reads the top line of the letter. And one guest, the letter says, and he’s pretty sure it’s a date thing. Some fancy dinner for the rich old white guys to show off their tail and rub shoulders with whichever politician they’re paying off to get fancy benefits and lenient laws. “It’s just a fancy dinner for rich old white guys to show off their tail,” Tony says, and he can see Steve mouthing tail beside him, with that pinched look like he just sucked on a lemon and found a lime. Whatever. “Me and Steve go in, rub shoulders with politicians to pay off, whatever, who cares. It’ll be great.”

“This is an undercover assignment,” Coulson says, and isn’t he just adorable?

“We can put Steve in a suit, no one’ll recognize him outside the uniform.” Tony pauses, because oh. “Well, you’ll recognize him, but you’re just…” Coulson’s mimicking that look that Steve has and his fingers are twitching a lot like that time he tased Barton in the hallway at the tower, so Tony changes the topic. “Is this the gay thing? Because the gay thing’ll get us extra cred. Do they still call it that? But a gay couple shows up to the dinner and BOOM. President is suddenly in the social good books, we’re the life of the human rights related-party, everyone’s happy, everyone’s begging to get in on the right side of history, yadda yadda, let’s do this.”

It’s completely silent again. Steve has his eyes shut, Natasha isn’t blinking, and Barton’s leaning forward looking completely serious.

“Sir,” Barton says, and Tony’s pretty sure Coulson has a finger on his taser, “I fully support this plan and want to see it in action.”

“No,” Coulson says.
“Why are we sitting at the kids’ table?” Tony asks. His voice carries and Steve bites his bottom lip in a vain effort to keep from turning red. People are turning and staring, and instead of being shamed and falling back into his role as a humble something or other, Tony’s voice rises. “Is this the gay thing again? Because I swear to god you guys are all talk, no walk, and it’s seriously hindering progress in this country!”

Steve looks over his shoulder and watches as the closest onlookers start talking amongst themselves, pulling out smartphones and squinting at Tony. A man that is undeniably secret service strides towards them calmly but with purpose, and Tony straightens his back and puffs out his chest.

“Mr. Stark,” the secret service member starts, and Tony gasps theatrically.

“Do you not know who I am?” Tony demands. “I can’t believe this. I finally snag an invite to a presidential dinner and nobody knows who the hell I am.” He looks at Steve and scowls. “Stev-anie,” he corrects himself at the last moment, and Steve feels the bottom drop out of his stomach, “do you believe this shit?”

“Michael,” Steve says slowly, and Tony taps his foot against the tile. “Maybe you should lay off the champagne for a while.”

“Stephanie, honey,” Tony says, and god damn it he’s going with the screw-up, “I got this.”

“I’m so sorry,” Steve says as he wraps his arm around Tony’s shoulders and forcibly turns him away. “Michael is not having a good day. One of his contracts went under, and it’s just been stressful for everyone involved.” He waved his arm. “We’re going to just take our seats now.”

The secret service member raises an eyebrow and holds out a hand. “Can I see your passes, please?”

“Discrimination!” Tony barks when he breaks from Steve’s grip and yanks his invitation from his breast pocket. He holds it aloft and waves it a little. “Does my lifestyle make you uncomfortable, bucko?”

“No, but your access to weapons and shouting angrily in front of the president does,” the agent says, and Tony pauses.

“Oh,” Tony says, and the agent snags the pass. “I’m sorry about that. Like dear ol’ Steph said, stressful day, contracts being dicks, you know. So and so.”

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” the agent says, and Tony laughs.

“Again with the whole “Mr. Stark” thing! That’s actually quite a compliment, isn’t that a compliment, Stevanie?” Tony turns to look at Steve, and Steve just smiles blankly in return.

“A lot of people make that mistake,” Steve nods while he speaks and carefully takes the invite back. “Michael definitely dresses to…” he glances at Tony, “imitate.”

Tony shrugs and Steve slides the invitation in his pocket.

“Let’s go sit down.”

The secret service agent watches them walk back to the table, Steve shoving Tony when he tries to break away, and the agent presses the button in his cuff. “I don’t know what just happened, sir.”

The president isn’t entirely sure what happened since he left his rooms in the afternoon. After leaving a meeting with his vice president and trying to help his daughters with their science homework, he’d retreated to his room to prepare for the night while telling his wife that he preferred the blue dress, if she would be so inclined.

After a brief talk with the secret service, he found himself standing at the end of the ballroom wondering why a man who was obviously Tony Stark was asking who he had to sleep with to get financial assistance for his home business, all while dragging around a man who was obviously Captain America.

The secret service had to be fucking with him.

He said as much and ended up with Jim standing behind him and looking hopelessly lost.

“His ID checks out. Both do.” Jim shakes his head and flashes a tablet at him. The president leans back slightly to see that, yes, Michael Clark and his husband Stephanie are indeed in the system. Their licenses show that they hail from Minnesota, and are heavily involved in their local politics.

“Is gay marriage even legal in Minnesota?” the president asks.

“As of last year, yes, sir.”

“When were they married?”

“Three years ago.”

“Right.”

“I’m not sure what to do about this.” Jim shrugs and tucks the tablet in his suit. “The paperwork checks out. I don’t believe the paperwork.”

“I don’t think anyone believes the paperwork.”

Steve doesn’t know how, or why, but people are calling him Stephanie. They’re also calling Tony “Michael,” completely seriously, and no one is saying anything about it. After he’d gotten Tony to his seat and offered him a flute of champagne and some Adderall (not really, but the thought was there), Tony had fallen into the role of Michael Clark. Steve wasn’t sure where Tony had come up with his cover story, since Coulson had simply told them to sit pretty and praise the president’s efforts to move forward with human rights while ignoring anything else that may come up, but Tony was flirting his way into the hearts of everyone else’s wives with his stories of starting his business with hard work and a little elbow grease, and how he’d fought to provide for his workers before the president’s whatever requirements.

From noises he can hear in the tiny comm in his ear, Coulson is also trying to figure out where Tony came up with his cover story, while Barton is mysteriously silent.

“Your husband is very accomplished,” a woman says when she sits beside Steve, and he shrugs.

“He’s something.”

“Oh for sure.” She leans on the table and smiles. “You must tell me how you met.”

Steve waves a hand. “It’s all very embarrassing, you don’t want to know.”

She laughs and claps his shoulder. “All the best stories are.”



Dinner happens, tony tells everyone he’s going to shag his husband, they leave, tony’s like “why the hell were we even there?”
“I am so sorry,” Steve starts when he climbs into the Quinjet. “I tried. I really, really tried, but I lost control of the situation.”

“Implying you ever had control of it in the first place,” Barton snorts. “Grade A undercover work, Captain. I was so inspired by that performance that I’ve adopted it into my folder of interrogation techniques.”

“No, he did not,” Coulson interrupts. He points at Barton. “You did not.” He points at Steve. “This is not your fault.” He points at Tony. “This is completely your fault.”

“We didn’t get the information.” Steve looks despondent, and Tony looks betrayed.

“You didn’t, we did.”

Steve jumps when Natasha walks past him, dressed in an evening gown that’s as stunning as it is subtle. It’s a weird and confusing combination, and Barton gives her a high five.

“Excuse me, were you even in there?” Tony demands, and Natasha raises an eyebrow at her.

Barton shakes his head. “Nope,” he says, popping the “p.” “I waited for the target to come outside and hung him from a balcony.”

Coulson turns to look at Barton. “That is also not in your folder of techniques.”

Barton sticks his tongue out. “Says you.”










 
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stark onoudidnt
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Far too sappy for the subject matter

Exactly what the topic says. Just pretend that the topic is prettier and, I dunno, looks elegantly intellectual or something.

So I've been pretty absent the last couple years. As some/all of you know, I ended up taking a moderator position on Subredditdrama, which is basically a subforum on the site reddit.com. I've put a lot of time into that in the last couple years, and I'm going to be stepping down in a few weeks, and then I'll start some huge drama there and disappear from reddit while they're trying to figure out what happened. It's going to be fucking awesome, and I can't wait.

I've thought about leaving the mod spot for a long time, but I just could never do it. I've been saying I'll step down for a year, but that obviously hasn't happened. I want to blame my decision to leave now on the fact that the  team recently gained a lot of moderators, and that I was doing the bulk of the work on the sub and have finally just worn myself out, but the more I think about it, the more I feel like leaving is just a natural progression of the last few years of my life.

When I ended up modding SRD, it was literally me falling into the position. I wasn't active on reddit, I only knew the mods through the IRC channel, and basically they said, "you have no experience, nobody knows who the fuck you are, and you're level headed from what I've seen. Want the spot?" and I, obviously, said, "can I ban people?" and so goes history. And really, it was during a time in my life when I was going through a lot of changes, and was really existing somewhere in the realm of "lost." My dad had died, I was in a new university, my family was (and still is, let's not lie) falling apart. Reddit was basically a new start, separate from the old things I had done online and really almost on the opposite end of the spectrum.

And SRD is really a shitty place now, like omg so bad.

Now, almost two years later, I'm making moves to demod myself and all I can think is that I've managed to live past most of the shitty parts post-Dad, and it feels like I'm getting a little bit closer to home and who I was. I'm stepping back into tumblr, and fandom (though it's more ClintCoulson than USUK right now), and getting more active on twitter after all but abandoning it for so long. I've learned things about myself since I've been gone that I may end up talking about later, and now I have a new blog (thelyward.wordpress.com), and after two years gallivanting on this big reddit thing, I'm getting closer to my roots, coming back from vacation and essentially confronting a huge part of my life that I abandoned in my need for change. It's like I've finally come to terms with the way that my life has changed, and I'm ready to finally step back into it and continue on with the path I had veered off of so long ago.

Reading over this, I feel really melodramatic and dumb and like I'm taking it way too seriously, but I was happy here in fandom, and on livejournal, and just with my friends that I've never been able to forget even though I was totally a bitch and an ass and basically abandoned you all, and nothing I've done since this has ever been able to compare to the community and love and just the common interests and really the friendships that exist here, if not on LJ then in fandom and in friends found on LJ or tumblr and that moved beyond the digital realm and ended up with us sending each other letters and drawings and just pieces of ourselves. And I feel like now I'm ready to be happy again.

Now I'm ready to come home.

but seriously why can't fandom have fucking irc channels. i love irc, and i love all of you, and it's so simple and you all need to irc

stark onoudidnt
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[Historical Site] Fort Knox and Penobscot Narrows Bridge and Observatory

So on Tuesday the 9th, I ended up going to Fort Knox and the Penobscot Narrows Bridge and Observatory. I picked a select few photos out of my collection to share, since 100+ photos is a lot more than a simple post like this needs :D

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stark onoudidnt
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Time to give up on this year as well

My grandfather died last night.

That's the short version. A slight longer, but still short, version would be "My grandfather died last night and our life is probably going to go to hell."


I want to keep this... Somewhat short, because it's so fucked up and I want to post a few more things tonight. But the background information is that last Wednesday my grandmother and I took my cousin to the airport in Manchester, New Hampshire because he was flying to California to look at universities. Gram and I stayed overnight and did a bit of shopping.

I knew this before, but Gram and Grampie were not getting along. At all. Grampie admitted to having a one-night stand fifty years ago, and Gram hates him. Like, really hates him.

So Tuesday morning, I went over to pick up Gram so we could go pick my cousin up at the airport. We went inside so I could put in my contacts, and she mentioned that I shouldn't go upstairs because Grampie was having one of his episodes and had lain down on the floor. I knew Grampie had had small strokes in the past, and I thought it might have been a seizure or something. The way she put it, it sounded like he had his little episode every other day or something. I commented that we should call an ambulance, but she said she had asked him if he wanted her to, had put a blanket on him, and when he said he didn't want an ambulance, she put the phone next to him so he could call himself.

I really thought we should call the ambulance or something but I dropped it when we left.

An hour or so later, she revealed to me that Grampie had actually lain down the night before. He had slept on the floor all night, and it hadn't just happened in the morning like I had thought. She ended up calling her brother and asking him to check on Grampie when he "had time," and she said that "there's no rush. You can do it after work." She only called him because she called Grampie and couldn't reach him. She figured he had wandered off or something.

A couple hours later, she gets a phone call from my uncle/her brother. He had found Grampie, still on the floor, and had called an ambulance. We were in New Hampshire (we ended up staying all day because the info sheets we had said AM instead of PM), so we couldn't run back or anything. Not that she would have wanted to. I was driving, so had I needed to I could have turned us back, but there was nothing we could do and I didn't think we'd be able to get in his room anyway if he was being worked on or whatever. I just let it go, because there was no use worrying.

There was another phone call, and my uncle told gram that the ambulance had to stop on the way to the hospital to restart Grampie's heart. She... didn't care. Later, I asked if she was okay, and she told me that Grampie told her he'd been cheating on her up until he got sick 8 years ago, and he only stopped because he couldn't physically cheat on her anymore. That sounds like something that would be said in a fit of anger, or a major exaggeration. Definitely not what he told Mom when he told her everything last year, around November (more details on this later). But anyway, she told me she didn't care about him anymore.

Now, before we got the call saying Grampie was taken to the hospital, my mother called me to check if we were back home. I told her the situation with the time mistake. After Grampie got to the hospital, gram received a phone call from mom. I don't remember the specifics, but Mom immediately called me after Gram hung up. She wanted to make sure I knew what was going on. Grampie was going to have a CAT scan on his head then his chest, and then they were likely going to send him to the ICU (intensive care unit). She asked if I was okay to drive and said I could get a hotel room if I couldn't drive home. I've become really good at kicking emotions out, so I was perfectly fine to drive.

We ended up at the airport later that night to hang out for a few hours until my cousin's plane got in, and we got another call from Mom. Grampie probably wasn't going to make it. He was bleeding into his brain, and they couldn't find the source. She was planning on keeping us updated. I ended up getting on IRC to chat with friends for a bit to calm down, and gave Gram my phone since she couldn't hear hers ringing, and she needed to give info to the doctors. She had been giving info all day (if you could call it that). They needed to know if he was on medication, if he took blood thinners, etc. She really didn't care, was vague with her answers, and just... unhelpful.

Mom called back later and said that Grampie wasn't going to make it. She was talking to Gram, and Gram asked me if I wanted to see him before he went. I told her no, because for one I didn't think he'd want to see me like that, and two, I didn't want to force him to hang on for the vanity of seeing him one last time (or whatever).

So that was the last time we really talked that night. I found an outlet so I could hang on irc and get away, and Gram made some phone calls. I called Mom when my cousin showed up, and she told me that my Gram's nieces (Gram's the youngest in her family, so they're all about the same age) had shown up at the hospital. One made it while he was still alive, the other didn't.

So we drove home. My cousin found out when his half-sister texted him to ask if he had been there, so we had to tell him what had happened. Then Mom called again to ask about donating bones/organs, and Gram was the most... fucking blunt. She went on about how they could take whatever they wanted because he was going to be cremated anyway.

When we got back to her house, I told her I would help however, and I know right after Dad died we took his clothes to a thrift store because Mom didn't want to be in the same room with them. I figured I could help take it out since we weren't going to be sleeping for a while. So we're cleaning out the closet, and she's talking about how he was with all these sluts, and how all kinds of shirts were new and not worn, and basically just shitting all over him just a few hours after he'd died. She was basically complaining about how wasted her shopping and such was when he died, and how he left behind credit cards that she wouldn't be paying for, and then she was complainin about how she needed to take his death certificate to all these places, and how there wouldn't be a service or anything and he was just going to be cremated and that would be the end of it.

I ended up getting home around... 3am. I went in Mom's room to sit with her. I had called some friends (like Sally) to check up on her and offer to take her home if she couldn't drive, because she was just so... so distraught. Mom was in bed so I just sat on the end and told her what I know (all of the above, basically), and Mom was just in shock. I think despair is a good word for it. It was just so horrible to see. She told me that after she'd gotten off the phone with me that morning, she had called Grampie to tell him that we wouldn't be home until much later. One of the EMTs (emergency medical techs., from the ambulance) answered the phone, and that was how she found out about Grampie (one thing I had wondered but hadn't asked). She worked at the hospital anyway, but she was there with my uncle. She told me how people just started showing up (Gram's nieces), and she felt like a circus sideshow. Even my uncle, who is almost always on my grandmother's side, was incredibly unimpressed and mentioned that they were there so they could report back to Gram. Mom told me she had tried to be a middle ground to protect Gram from what was going on, but then when the hospital needed to speak to Gram concerning Grampie's condition, Gram just told them to pull the plug.

Mom told me that grampie had talked to her back in November about how bad their fights were. He told her about the one night stand, and that he had signed over everything to Mom in case something happened. Mom wasn't really paying attention, but if this is true, we're going to be at the center of a family feud. Something my entire family loves doing, since I believe we have seven ongoing feuds right now among the uncles and cousins.

Mom insisted gram knew Grampie was going to die, and that Gram left him on the floor because she wanted it to all be taken care of when she got home. She kept saying that Gram hated him, that she had to get Grampie's ashes so Gram didn't throw them in the dump, and that she was just so...

She kept repeating,"What did she become?" and I just...

This morning, Mom talked to gram on the phone, and from what i heard, it turned ugly quickly. We're going to try and rent a hall in town for a reception. He was a police chief and he was liked by pretty much everyone, including people that he stopped and/or arrested. I'm planning on going and grabbing a few of his police chief things with the excuse that Gram shouldn't have to look at it (or my cousin, he lives with her) because it might bring up memories and tears and whatnot. There will probably be a fight over that, but Gram doesn't have to come. Hell. I don't want her there. No one does, especially the few people that know what happened over the last couple days.

Mom sat with him when he died. She wondered why his hand was bruised and why he had cuts on it (it looks like he collapsed instead of lying down). She once again is listening to all kinds of untrue gossip, and her irreparable relationship with her mother is even more fucked up now.

This year is done. Time to wait for 2014 to come around. I don't even know what to do with Gram now. It gets harder and harder to treat her kindly whenever I see her.

stark onoudidnt
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New York

Picture heavy. I don't really think I have anything to say about it, except that my cousin kept getting pulled aside by street venders and she managed to take us 6 blocks out of the way because she's not that great with a map :'|

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OKAY a much needed and very late update

I'm going to post New York after this one (haha, out of order).

ANYWAY I moved into Bridgewater State University a couple weeks ago, and it's been pretty cool. I was in a forced triple, but I'll be moving into my own room in the next week or so. Which will be awesome until someone else moves in later, but I'm not complaining.

I've got my bike here, which is nice. Really handy to get back and forth quickly, and I'm only about 4 hours away from home by car (my car is here. This is the best part). But I'm so behind that after this points, I'm just going forward and not worrying about recapping what's happened in the last few months.

I have some pictures!


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Back from New York orz

Pictures after work or something (they'll also be going on my newest blog venture later >.>;;).

Except this one.


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That pigeon looks incredibly badass.
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stark onoudidnt
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This is my cat.

Her name is Gracie.



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