#dowysrp

“My gut feeling gave birth to Ultron, regardless if it was my programming or not.” 

“My gut feeling also gave me Vision.”

“My gut feeling killed JARVIS.”

“My gut feeling also saved the whole world.”

“That... unsettled me, for a while. The back and to of it all. I’ve never trusted anyone more than myself and to be suddenly questioning that?”

“I’m not infallible, I’ve never claimed to be, but that’s always been a constant: even if I can’t trust anyone else, I’ve always got myself.” 

“Maybe that’s why I’ve grabbed hold of this Act so firmly, because it’s not just me who’s saying it’s right; my gut says it’s right and so do countless other countries.”

He doesn’t let people see it - that yeah, at times, he can be nostalgic and maybe even a little, ugh, sentimental - and what he does let people see is handcrafted. 

He can’t quite use a green screen in real life, but misdirection and props? 

Oh he’s a king at that. 

He has a framed photo of him and his dad, front and centre, on one of his work stations down in the shop; he’ll talk about and make reference to his dad in interviews if need be, and people don’t question what’s on offer; they’re satisfied you’re not hiding anything.

The picture of him and Jarvis, the edges curled, is tucked away in the corner of his monitor, a screen that has its back to the door and when he’s loosened with liquor, he’ll thumb over the curve of Jarvis’ smile and remember the bedtime stories and hot chocolate (and Tony would always get Jarvis’ share of the marshmallows in his too)--

--he thinks about the times Jarvis would try his hide his smiles without smiling and his inevitable failure, the sound of hurt in his voice when he found out about the drugs; he thinks about being taught how to shave, of being picked up and wrapping his arms around his neck whilst his dad screams at him to get out of the workshop--

--he remembers bath times, waking up hungover in the morning to a glass of water and two aspirin on bedside table, remembers waxen lips and “I am so proud of you.”

JARVIS is good, JARVIS is great - he’s better than that-- hell, the first time JARVIS sassed him, in that way that was just Jarvis, he nearly cried, right there and then in the middle of the workshop. 

But he wasn’t Jarvis. Tony couldn’t fall asleep on JARVIS and wake up curled on the couch with a blanket tucked up around his shoulders; he couldn’t press a cup of tea into JARVIS’ hands and tell him to sit down and slow down; JARVIS couldn’t recount tales of his adventures he’d had with Aunt Peggy.

They were staking out a drug cartel that seemed to be dealing in something a lot more dangerous than cocaine for days. Just him and Phil and John in the car for hours. It was too hot, too close, not enough water, not enough food--though the cart nearby did some great arepa de huevo--and not enough sleep.

He’s sure all of that added to the moment when Phil started singing along to Sexual Healing on the radio. It was the first good laugh any of them had in days.

Back before his arc reactor was removed, the cold was almost unbearable and no amount of painkillers could soothe the bone ache; he could feel each inhalation, each drag, and the chill would radiate out from his chest and down to the tips of his fingers and toes. The sheer inability to get warm, his hands stiff and unable to work, used to drive him up the wall.

(When people think of Afghanistan, they think of hot and desert, sand dunes and sunburn; they don’t think of the nights, where your breath mists before you and the cold settling into your bones.)

Nick loves the cold. Snow and him get along wonderfully. It’s part of the reason he decided that the cabin in the woods had to be further north. That way when it wasn’t in use, he could go up there and enjoy his coffee out front in the crispy cold mornings.

formal

He hates fundraisers. Not what they’re meant to do, obviously but having to dress up and schmooze is not a thing he wants to spend his evenings doing. Unfortunately it’s part of the job description so he found himself at many functions, in a tux or in the earlier years a dress uniform (which, he maintains he was far more comfortable in), shaking hands and talking to senators and congressmen about funding and security and whatever else their champagne soaked brains spewed out.

The only real fun he got out of it was in the later years when he’d bring Phil and watch the more conservative members of the crowd try to squirm their way out of being rude without being too close to that pesky gay couple. After all, it had been bad enough when he was just black!