No, not that time. The other time.

In about an hour, I will officially be on winter break. Which means, for the foreseeable computer, I won't have an internet connection. So, naturally, this pretty thoroughly shuts me down on all fronts.

Hopefully the situation will be rectified in the near future, or at the very least I'll be able to check in every now and again. But if that doesn't turn out to be the case, I'll see everybody in January.

Happy Holidays, and just in case, Happy New Year everybody.

- Sara

Crossposted to here.

OOC: Inspired by this. Soooo much backdating.

It doesn't matter how well you play with others. When you're the fabled Smartest Kid in the Room and you're never really compelled to hide it, sometimes you're going to have to play by yourself.

At seven years old, Tony is already well aware of this. It's why, though there's tons of snow on the ground and kids everywhere are gathering with their friends to play, he's called no one. He could, he knows he could. But he won't. Not with the plan he has. The plan that was so good, it required careful calculations and a well detailed blueprint.

A snow fort.

Walking out of his house, bundled up so his mother would leave him alone and with his blueprint in hand, Tony looked to the surrounding snow at large. Once he'd chosen the best possible spot -- not in the middle of the yard, but off to the left -- he unrolled his blueprint. Looked at it. Looked at the snow. Nodded. And began construction.

Construction turned out to take a bit longer than he'd calculated. New ideas that further complicated things didn't help, but couldn't be ignored. He only took a break three times. Once, for hot chocolate. Then to have lunch. Then, because his mother told him if he didn't come in and change those soaked clothes on his own, she'd drag him in by his feet and make him do it anyway.

( A persuasive argument. )

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count: 985

OOC: This is for tm_northstar, who presented the notion I just didn't have the capacity to resist. Backdated to somewhere towards the end of my silly and prolonged absence, and because of that, Tony's silly and prolonged absence. Partially influenced by listening to the song 'Ulysses' by Franz Ferdinand too many times. I'm not sure how yet.

'Drunk'. It was a good word.

Why there were people in this world that were so against it was something Tony didn't think he'd ever understand. The act'd shaped the decisions of great men and women alike, caused the births of many, influenced art and literature, all kinds of things. And yet, in the right circles -- or the wrong ones if you wanted to be technical -- an individual could be ostracized for the act. People were so negative.

Plus, it was fun to say. Drunk. Drunk drunk drunk druuuuuuu--

Was he even speaking?

No. He was thinking. Thinking wasn't speaking, it involved strictly the brain and nothing to do with working the mouth. Sometimes this stuff was hard to keep a handle on.

( Tony was at the sixth party he'd been to in four days... )

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count: 1419

What is this world coming to?

Anyway, if you caught my post in the_flyingman 's journal, then you know that Tony!Mun might be without internet for a while. It's terrible, it makes me (daughterof_evil ) sad, and Tony!Mun is sorry that the universe fails so much.

But don't worry, guys. Tony will be back as soon as he can, and I let his writer know that Tony Stark carries around a murse and wears unforgivable shoes. He would have argued if he could have, trust me.

( The real question is, what would he say about this? )

References this.

She said I wouldn't.

( And would I really be me if I didn't? )

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count 328

- I _____ Tony.
- Tony is _____.
- Tony likes to ______.
- I want to _____ Tony.
- Tony can ______.
- Someday Tony will ______.
- Tony reminds me of ______.
- Without Tony, it will be _____.
- Right now, I bet Tony is thinking about _____.
- Tony makes me want to _______.
- If I could spend the day with Tony, I'd _____.
- Tony is made of _______.
- If I could be Tony for a day, I'd ______.
- Tony's alter-ego is __________.
- I want to give Tony ______.
- If I could set Tony up with someone it'd be ________.

He'd sworn he'd never get into the suit drunk. And Tony fully intended to keep that promise, otherwise it'd be compromising the integrity of what Iron Man stood for, and all that. That was important to him, that he never strayed from that. Very important.

Which is why he saw remodeling the gloves and boots from initial thruster testing so they'd be usable for tonight's events as completely different, and therefore okay. He didn't intend to do any major flying with them, that would of course be stupid. And Tony was very well known for being a very smart man. In most cases.

At any rate, he'd had enough time for a few tests, and they appeared to be safe. ... Ish.

So Tony waited in the parking lot of the Bronx Zoo that night, out of the way of oncoming traffic -- since casual attire was all well and good, but a man with red and gold metal gloves and boots on would still attract attention from anyone in spite of that -- and looked around for JP. He almost checked his watch, and then realized he wasn't wearing one, because it obviously wouldn't fit around the glove without him having to worry about losing the damn thing.

"Oh. ... Right." Duh.

He grabbed his keys off the trunk of the car, and with a little work thanks to the hinderance of slightly bigger fingers, he popped his trunk open and surveyed the assorted booze he'd brought with him for the night. "This should do it." He said approvingly. He hadn't gone all out, there was still room in the trunk for other things, but Tony'd still shot for a wide enough range once he realized he was clueless about just what kind of alcohol JP liked. He thought that, along with the camera in a bag that was in there next to the bottles as requested, was more than nice enough.

"Guess everything's set."

Now where the hell was JP?

1. Yourself:
Tony Stark

2. Your boyfriend/girlfriend:
In progress.

3. Your hair?
Black, wonderful.

4. Your mother:
Is dead.

5. Your Father:
Also dead.

6. Your Favorite Item:
The suit.

( The rest. )

Hell is no amount of alcohol in the world being enough to make you forget your current problem. Or at least give you enough confidence to get the hell over it.

Tony had tried for both hours before coming here, and had come up with exactly zilch. Now he was considerably tipsy, and after a fair amount of arguing with Hogan on whether or not to drive him to Laura's, he was on the way. Once he'd told Happy he'd either fucking drive him, or Tony would take his motorcycle and go on his own, Happy'd complied.

He'd apologize for that later. And all the swearing. But sometimes, that was just the only way to get things done in a highly stressful situation. Which was exactly where he was. Absolutely where he was.

Nursing a glass of scotch in the backseat, Tony looked out the window and watched the buildings pass him by. He was too drunk to properly plan out his sentences, surprised he was managing to hold a glass properly, and pissed off at the world. Not to mention his as yet unborn offspring. He shouldn't have to do this. She should just accept him as he is. Sure, it would be a lot of work, but since when didn't he required a lot of work! It was simply in keeping with the status quo!

"We're here, Mr. Stark."

"Thanks Happy." Tony waved him off before he got out of the car to open the door, then paused. "No, actually, you better do that." He swayed a bit, catching himself on a the front seat and looking annoyed. "I can't do this."

Happy came around and opened the door for him, and Tony looked up when he heard him sigh. "You can do this."

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, shut up."

"Sir, if I may, I know exactly what you're talking about." Happy offered a hand, and Tony nodded his thanks when he helped him to his feet. "And I think it'd look a hell of a lot better if you did it sober."

( 'Hogan, that train has sailed. ... Ship. Ship's sailed.' )

OOC: Inspired by this image. Backdated. imjustdriven and Henry stolen in yet another merciless kidnapping. Terrible how these things happen. Terrible.

Tony tells himself he wouldn't do this if he didn't feel like there was a gun to his head.

It's a metaphorical gun, sure. At least in actuality, but it might as well be a real live gun, pressing against his temple with that ever rising tension that comes with the question as to whether or not the shooter's going to pull the trigger. Even though deep down, you know the shooter's going to pull the trigger, in fact you're sure of it, because the shooter's shot you before, does so frequently, and--

Wait. That was losing steam as a metaphor. Significantly. Okay.

When Laura had told him that she thought it'd be a 'nice idea' to try to get Henry to start calling Sasha 'Mommy', Tony hadn't quite understood why this was supposed to be his problem. And being him, he had voiced an inquiry as to why this was. Just once. The look it earned him had been around the point the gun image had popped into his head.

And it was under this non existant threat of violence, with the knowledge that the threat of other forms of torture only women can employ was all too real, that Tony'd employed Questionable Methods to get the desired result. It didn't really take a genius to figure this one out. It just took someone willing to compromise on how things 'should be done' when it came to raising a child.

The hell with it, it wasn't his kid. He'd start thinking that over when he had his own to worry about. Right now, it was just a matter of getting the job done.

"Henry!" Snatching a plate of Questionable Method Cookies that he'd just prepared off of the counter, Tony went into the living room where Henry was partaking in his usual afternoon cartoons. "Yeah, we need a break from Spongebob." He switched off the TV, ignoring the look the child gave him.

"I have something important to talk to you about." Sitting next to him on the couch, he set the plate down in his lap. A smirk of self satisfaction was instant when Henry's eyes were drawn straight to the chocolately chippy goodness. "You listening?"

"Uh huh." No he wasn't.

( Tony grinned. )

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count: 915

Leave a comment and I will come up with your muse's and my muse's kid. I'm equal opportunity -- adoption counts just as much as organically produced babies. Of course, this is just for fun's sake only, so none of these kids are actually binding to anything.

Partake. It will amuse me.

Marion: You're not the man I knew ten years ago.
Indiana Jones: It's not the years, honey, it's the mileage.

- Raiders of the Lost Ark

I agree with this. Although I'd like to take out the phrase 'mileage' and replace it with something more reader friendly. When I figure out exactly what that is, I'll get back to you. There has to be something that doesn't put an extremely run down image of me in my head sound quite so unpleasant.

Anyway. Back on topic.

A lot of people go years before something ever comes along that actually changes them. I know, I was one of them. Then three months of captivity and a whole lot of fun packed in not too long afterward changed everything. And everything's still changing. That's That Word I'm Going to Replace With Another Word, that's got nothing to do with time.

I mean, if you want to kick it back to give or take forty eight hours prior I was having sex with some woman from Vanity Fair. She hates me now. Carrie something. Yeah, so anyway.

It's all about The Bad Word. Whatever comes around that takes a frying pan to your face and makes you see things differently than you did before. I get a lot of that lately. Pretty regularly. The frying pans are starting to vary in size and density, but they're still there. When my son shows up, it's constant.

Did I mention I just can't wait until he's here to stay in baby form? I'm really looking forward to that.

For the most part, I don't mind all these frying pans -- I think that's what I'm going to call it from here on out -- they haven't always been quite as bad as I think they're going to be. The Easter one, for example. I didn't have to go to Hymn Book Racetrack Building Camp church this Easter, but I did spend the day with Laura, Sasha, and Henry. And I didn't hate it. I could get used to this. Maybe. Parts of it.

It's definitely all about the frying pans. People should take more of a shot at getting that. Or mileage. Whatever. But it is healthy.

Except in this case of dying vaginas I'm hearing about.

Laura, is there something you would like to warn me about now while there's still time?

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count: 372

OOC: For johnmovin_on, who requested that Tony throw John a bone. This is entirely AU, so would certain people who will go unnamed please hold back their wrenches? Pretty please? Ah yes, thank you.

"Now look, it's not like I've never considered it."

Were John a lesser person, he would've laughed right about now. But for the most part, he felt nervous. Nervous, because Tony had been slurring his words for the last dozen drinks. Nervous, because they were in a very close proximity at the bar in New York they'd agreed to meet at once he'd gotten off work at Saj.

Nervous, because he knew exactly what Tony was talking about. All straight men who weren't too homophobic to consider the option were at least a little curious. Some never acted on it, and went their whole lives wondering. Just in the back of their minds. Just a little tiny 'what if'.

Tony Stark did not 'wonder'. He had no 'what if's, at least when it came to the physical. Especially when it came to the physical. When he wanted to do something, to set some sort of action in motion, he damn well did it.

( And judging by the part of town Tony'd managed to drag him to... )

OOC: For whattingawhat, who requested a Buffy and Tony fic.

Only Tony Stark would fly in a friend to discuss the finer points of not being able to shut up.

"Yeah, okay, granted." He said dismissively, taking a seat on the couch next to Buffy and drinking a scotch. "But I think there's a lot of merit to it. You have no idea how many situations I've gotten out of just because I simply wouldn't stop talking." Counter to that, of course, was how many situations he'd gotten into because he simply couldn't stop talking, but that wasn't important.

Buffy laughed, comfortable enough in the overly shiny Malibu home to at least sit back with her soda and try to relax, but nowhere near comfortable enough to do anything like put her feet up or something like that. The coffee table was entirely too shiny, and the talking house might get angry at her for ruining it, nevermind Tony.

( Besides, that was more Danny's thing than hers. )

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count: 884

OOC: For daughterof_evil, who requested a Tony, Laura, and Anthony fic featuring Hey Jude, God of Chin. Set in the future. Because Laura Stark is an awesome name. General idea credited to daughterof_evil.

Tony yawned loudly. And this did not go unnoticed. The three surrounding tables at the fundraiser turned their heads to acknowledge that Tony Stark, husband to Laura Stark -- who had organized this fundraiser in the first place-- was bored. Two of the occupants of said tables were columnists covering the event, and that moment alone would likely be the focus of what they put out the next day.

So this was a stupid move on Tony's part. He glanced around to the ripple of trouble he'd just started, and winced a little. Moments like this, he wished he hadn't quit drinking. Just a little. "Whoops."

"Just can't help putting your ass on the line, can you." Anthony sighed deeply, sipping his soda and shaking his head at his father. "She's going to kill you."

"She's nowhere in the vicinity, I have plausible deniability later." And he would plead that even if it killed him. Which it probably would. Tony knocked back his own soda, looking around for Laura. His eyes came to rest on her mingling, getting face time in before the entertainment started. She did it will, she always had. It was impressive.

( But by God, there were so many other things they could be doing right now... )

Muse: Tony Stark
Fandom: Iron Man
Word Count: 1,083