(click for better quality)

Roughly paraphrasing his response: “well by your own admission you live on a diet of shellfish and wine, and you came into my office dressed like a vampire. Like. Yea man you gave yourself Gout. You want me to check you for Consumption while I’m at it? Go eat some vegetables, please.”

Now that I finished the book I find it kind of infuriating that all the conversations around this book (at least on booktok) are around if R. F. Kuang writes “too academic” and “doesn’t trust her readers” and not that fact that she wrote a beautiful story about not taking life for granted. Elsbeth wanted to be alive again so she could sit outside, and eat yummy food. All Gradus cared about being told was mundane things like music, and what the London skyline looks like. Because those little things we often overlook are what make life amazing. The fact that we’re alive is a beautiful, miraculous thing because of the small things that make it up, and being able to experience those things are what makes life worth it

Arranged Marriage AU / Marvel - Winteriron / Fireworks

There were fireworks at midnight to celebrate the marriage. To celebrate the end of the war.

The end of the war was, Tony could agree, worth celebrating. Too many lives had been lost. Too many resources drained. Too many families broken. The end of the war was a good thing, no question.

The marriage... Well, that remained to be seen, didn’t it? Tony glanced sidelong as his new husband. 

James was watching the fireworks, his expression impassive, betraying neither wonder nor disdain. It was much the same expression he’d worn when they had first met in person, a week ago, and when they’d sworn their vows to one another earlier that day. Not a man for displays of emotion, it seemed.

Tony suppressed a sigh and looked back up at the display. “Do you not like the fireworks?” he asked quietly.

From the corner of his eye, he saw James turn to look at him. “They are pretty enough,” he said, “but the noise is unpleasant.”

It was hard to argue with that. “I suppose,” Tony said, not looking away from the fireworks, “that to have something beautiful, one must sometimes endure a little unpleasantness.”

After a pause, James said, “Is this -- me -- the unpleasantness you endure for the beauty of peace?”

“Are you so certain that it must be unpleasant?” Tony wondered. 

“I am maimed,” James said, with the most emotion he’d displayed so far. He rubbed at his shoulder, just above the empty sleeve.

“A lot of people were hurt in the war,” Tony said. He tapped absently at his own chest, the scar left by the wound that had nearly killed him. “That’s not so bad.”

James grunted. “Once, I was pleasant. I knew how to be charming and dance and talk and say flattering things. That man, he is gone, and will never return.”

Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Flattery and dancing and charm are for courting,” he said, “and we are well past that. I need to know only one thing of you: will you treat me with respect?”

“I-- That is my intention, yes.”

“Then everything else can be managed.” Tony faced his husband directly. “Let me decide whether I find our marriage unpleasant, rather than trying to make up my mind for me. Unless you think you’ll be the one in an unpleasant situation?”

James stared at him, and he stared back. The lights of the fireworks lit up James’ face with strange shadows, but Tony was almost certain that, as the crowds gasped and cheered at the finale, he saw his husband’s mouth curve into a smile, just for an instant before James looked back up at the display above them.

“Something beautiful,” he murmured, almost too quiet for Tony to hear, and some sort of tension eased in him. Louder, he said, “We must have fireworks every year, for our anniversary.”

“What a splendid idea,” Tony said, and thought that, just perhaps, there might be something to celebrate here, after all.

~

~

~

--

Learning that the vigilante Iron Man was Tony Stark had really put a wrench in SHIELD's plans. The general idea had been to somehow sway Iron Man onto their side, get him to work with them. Natasha had even muttered that blackmail had been on the table after a particularly large Stark property was razed to the ground. When his identity had been revealed in battle, even Fury had looked shocked.

Steve had come to realize Tony Stark was not a man who could be leveraged. He had more money than God, could charm the right politicians, and had the military in the palm of his hand as they hoped for more Stark weapons someday. As a last-ditch effort, Steve had asked for a meeting with him to see if they couldn't come to some sort of agreement. It was dangerous for Iron Man to continue being a vigilante. With SHIELD, he would have some sort of protection. And he'd realized, watching Tony tap away at his phone, clearly only having accepted the meeting to see if they'd come, they had nothing he wanted.

"We could leak your identity to the media," Natasha had started with, and Tony had laughed, genuine mirth in his eyes as he asked, "Who would believe you?" And Steve had to admit, until the golden mask had been blown off and he'd seen Tony's bruised face underneath, he wouldn't have believed it himself.

"The insurance companies covering the damages of your blown up buildings might have something to say," Bruce had added, looking vaguely pained, and then had looked nauseous when Tony had replied, "I own the buildings. I don't put in claims." A quick text from Maria Hill confirmed that an agent had checked and it was true. Tony never made an insurance claim on any of the buildings that Iron Man damaged or destroyed.

"What if we started rumors that made Stark Industries stock tank?" Clint asked, genuinely curious, and Tony had simply clasped his hands on the table, smile friendly, even as he delivered a warning, "My CEO, Virginia Potts, might have something to say about people trying to mess with the stock market." Natasha had looked genuinely (if quietly) terrified at the invocation of Ms. Potts' name, so Steve took that to mean that getting on the wrong side of the business itself was the worst out of the three ideas.

"You have nothing I want," Tony continued, laughing, and spread his hands, gesturing at the room around him. "I'm set. I'm weeding out the weapons my ex-manager dealt under the table on property that I own without trying to make any money from insurance. No one has been hurt. In fact, Iron Man attacks when the buildings are mysteriously empty. You can hardly say I'm endangering anyone. Any other fights I get into, I make sure I don't attack first."

"You're good at goading people," Steve muttered under his breath, and grit his teeth as Tony just laughed again.

"And! I'm already contracted at SHIELD as a contractor," Tony added, crossing his arms over his chest smugly. "And Pepper has the terms of my contract ready for when you try to make me step one toe outside of it. She has been chomping at the bit to get back at you ever since she realized they'd sent an undercover agent into our company."

"...I thought Pepper liked me," Natasha said after a moment.

Tony gave a somewhat sympathetic shrug. "She's petty. It's not you she's mad at, just SHIELD as a whole. Well," he added before anyone else could say anything, looking at his watch. "Your ten minutes are up. Bye!"

"Seriously!?" Steve sputtered as Tony bounced out of his seat and began strutting out of the room. He found himself shoving his own chair back and standing.

"Steve, he's got us," Natasha sighed, but Steve ignored her. He'd dealt with Howard. He could figure out how to deal with Tony.

Steve followed Tony out of the room, lengthening his stride to catch up. Tony wasn't running, but he was clearly in a hurry, still checking his watch and looking around as he made his way toward the elevator to his private quarters where it was waiting, doors opened. Tony spared him an annoyed glance as he turned to face him, but Steve threw himself into the elevator before he could close the doors on him. He opened his mouth to say he'd known Tony's father.

"JARVIS, penthouse," Tony cut in flatly, and to his embarrassment, Steve tumbled onto the floor when the elevator jerked violently upward, as if on purpose.

"Ow," he wheezed, pushing himself up off the floor.

"Serves you right, Captain Trespass," Tony said, unimpressed. "And you will leave my penthouse after I do, or I'm having JARVIS treat you like an intruder and shooting you."

Steve sucked in a deep breath, then managed, "It's rude to outstay your welcome."

"And yet! Here you are," Tony huffed, raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't know what you expect to say. Natasha and Bruce dealt your strongest cards, and I've trumped them." He paused briefly, then added, "And don't try to bring up my old man. He's not the in you think he is. In fact, you're lucky I didn't punch you in your perfect teeth the moment I saw you."

Steve frowned, but before he could say anything or ask what that meant, the elevator slowed to a stop, and Tony was out the doors before they were even opened all the way. He lunged out after him before whatever JARVIS was could lock him inside and take him back down. He needed to figure out a way to get Tony to join them.

"There must be something SHIELD can do for you," Steve tried, stumbling after him as he walked toward the landing pad outside. "I can convince them. Just try me."

"I can get whatever I want," Tony sighed, turning to walk backwards so he could give Steve the full benefit of his rolled eyes. "I can buy it, or bribe for it, or even just hack in myself. Just face the facts, Steve. I'm not joining your stupid secret boy band."

Steve didn't know what that meant, because he hadn't gotten to boy bands on his list, but he understood the gist. "There's always something," he began, even though he was starting to understand that Tony was leagues ahead of him in arguments. He had an answer for everything. Steve couldn't expect to outwit him until he did some reading up on Tony and Stark Industries as a whole. "I have a lot of pull. Just try me."

Tony came to a stop and scowled at him. "Yeah? Then you better drop to your knees and bark like you want it."

Steve blinked, mouth dropping open slightly as he took the words in. He saw the corner of Tony's mouth twitch, and he knew immediately it was because he was ready to smirk in victory. He thought he'd won. Captain America would never go down on his knees, too proud, too powerful.

The last thing Steve found himself wanting was to give Tony that satisfaction, so he immediately dropped to his knees, jaw set. "How's this?" he growled, glaring up at him.

To his surprise, Tony froze where he was, mouth dropped open to gape at him. It was better than the smirk he'd almost given him, Steve figured grimly, but it wasn't giving 'I'll at least think about it' vibes like he'd hoped. Then he noticed that Tony's cheeks were quickly filling with color. He looked... embarrassed? Scared? Mortified seemed the only correct term. Steve blinked up at him, surprised. He'd read enough about Tony Stark to know that he was... quite experienced, he decided. But Steve had managed to catch him off guard. He felt... powerful, for a moment. Victorious.

Tony must have noticed, because he rallied quickly, turning on his heel to stomp toward the landing pad. "JARVIS, remove Captain Creep from the premises," he barked, even though Steve could see that his ears were now turning pink, and he couldn't help but grin viciously even as he stood and backed his way toward the elevator. This was something he could work with.

.-.

The next time Tony showed up at SHIELD for a contractors meeting, Steve managed to get himself assigned as his escort to the conference room. Tony started talking as soon as he saw him, apparently not willing to give him a moment to speak. He was going to try and ignore what had happened and his response to it. Steve swallowed back his urge to smirk as he paused to open the door for him.

"Well, good talking to you, hope to never see you again," Tony added as he moved to step through.

Go to 5calls.org, put in your location, and make the calls. Do it after business hours if you're worried about actually to a person, but do it.

*puts a dandelion in your hair*