#pxtts

                            jessica ignores all forms of protest as she storms through the corridor, steam practically coming out her ears as she she shoves her way past what must be a secretary’s cries to make an appointment in order to barge loudly into this “pepper potts’” office. making sure the door not only closed but locked behind her, jessica stormed up to the desk && made no effort to control her anger regarding this fucked up display of heroism. ‘ why don’t you tell your team of super-goons to get the fuck out of hell’s kitchen before they end up killing more people than they’re trying to save. ’

Send me a symbol for (five times drabble) – Accepting

1. he’s watching videos of himself, clicking from link to link on youtube. there aren’t many videos of the two of them that aren’t strictly ( mostly ) professional. but he stumbles upon a clip of something more affectionate, a moment captured on screen. he watches as he leans in to kiss the redhead, an expression he’s never seen before on his own face. it’s uncomfortable but somehow tony’s mind wanders, allows himself to think about it. wondering what it would be like to kiss pepper potts. 

2. tony’s DRUNK, two steps away from alcohol poisoning, because his old coping mechanism is now his current coping mechanism and he can’t deal with this shit. this world is entirely strange and unfamiliar, unwelcoming, it hurts and he hates it. FRIDAY monitors him like he’s an errant child after what he did in the workshop, and even now, pepper’s found him, and it would be just like normal except there’s disappointment deep in her eyes that’s never been there before. but he ignores it, takes another swig of his drink; all tony wants to do is kiss her, because hey, pepper would probably be more receptive to that now, right? ( he’s lucky that he passes out on the sofa before he even tries. )

3. they’re at the hospital for a checkup. it’s been so very long, tony knows before the doctor says it that there’s very little chance of him regaining his memories. it’s frustrating, angry — he’d rather have his memories back. he’d rather be that stranger, than stuck here living his life, unable to live up to his name. but he glances sideways at pepper, and the frustration leaves him. he wants to comfort her, an instinct in his gut that would have him hold her close and kiss her. he stares at her for a moment, but she’s not looking at him, and he gets the uncomfortable and frankly ridiculous feeling that he’s intruding. 

4. they start to spend more time together. maybe it’s because she thinks he’s had enough time to heal, or maybe because he’s not freaking the fuck out any more. maybe it’s because they both know, logically, that they need to adjust to this new normal. find a way to make it work. whatever it is, things are comfortable between them now. his curiosity about his life has returned, he wants to know more about them. he wants to kiss her, wants to find out what it’s like. he almost does, one evening, when she surprises him in the workshop with take-out. but maybe she sees something, sees his intent, because she puts distance between them before he even gets the chance.

5. he almost kisses her. she’s laughing at something he said, green eyes sparkling, and he suddenly realises just how beautiful she is. he knew he was capable of loving pepper potts — he’d seen it, captured in videos and photos and the way she talked about him. experiencing it, the all-encompassing need, the warmth — it’s completely different. but he hesitates, stops himself. she’s in love with a man who he’s not right now, who he might never be again. it’s a bitter pill to swallow, and he can feel the pressure creeping in on him again. 

Send me a symbol for (five times drabble) – Accepting

1. he stares blankly at the reporter, unable to understand where that question had come from. “pepper potts?” he repeats incredulously. he'a not even sure he’s ever exchanged more than a few words with her at a time, let alone anything more. “why would i be in love with pepper potts?” and it’s the start of a rivalry that never quite makes the tabloids, but that everybody knows about all the same. 

 2. “you’re off your rocker.” except rhodey’s the second person to ask why he’s doing this film, to imply that it has something to do with secret feelings for a certain redhead. tony has been acting less crazy recently, less girls, less drinking, less parties. maybe that’s where rhodey’s coming from. but pepper potts? he laughs in the man’s face. “i’m not pining for pepper fucking potts.” 

 3. “i don’t love you.” he’s staring at his shoes, voice quiet, earnest, almost vulnerable. a pivotal moment. he’s clenching his fists, clearly conflicted, eyes darting everywhere that isn’t her. when he finally looks up, the director calls “cut,” and tony rolls his shoulders and looks up to the cameras for further instruction.

 4. they have dinner. it’s not the first time but this feels different. it’s nice. tony enjoys himself, more than he has in a long time. but it’s not until they’ve said goodbye, until he gets to his hotel room “i’m not in love with pepper potts,” he says quietly, almost reassuring himself. it only makes the next morning harder. 

 5. of course, the article, the photos, that’s all the interviewers want to talk about now. both pepper and tony do their best to keep the focus on the movie, but eventually a question slips in. tony’s stiff as a board when he answers, head held high, still stinging from the abrupt rejection earlier. “no i am not in love with pepper,” he says, a sliver of steel in his voice. and then, fuel to fire, “christ, could you imagine?” the press laugh, and tony grins, but nobody dares ask again after seeing the look in tony’s eyes.

[text: not virginia] don’t make me sic tony on you