I think it might be the end of my time rping on tumblr. but i am still writing on discord, so i will reach out to everyone i have in my drafts folder to see if they want to continue our threads there.
if you want to stay in touch, write stuff, feel free to add me at thenamessteph#5248 (just let me know who you are with your url).
“ right, yeah, with you on that part. hey, while we’re at it, can no one else get hurt ?? ‘cuz i’m pretty sure at least one of those people back there has a broken limb, and i’m not about to pay for whatever private healthcare these guys have !! ”
“it’s actually really adorable that you think some bad guy is gonna hunt you down for a medical lawsuit. trust me, you don’t have to worry.” ally creates a dome of air around the two of them, shielding them from oncoming attacks without any reason to hurt anyone else. “do you have any issues with motion sickness?”
Tony took a sip of cheap soda and considered his daughter over the top of the glass. A few years ago, she’d wanted nothing to do with him. Now, every word out of her mouth started with ‘we.’ But even if he left her grandmother’s house–and he’d try not, he was determined of that–he didn’t think Ally should. She didn’t deserve whatever life he was now capable of providing her. Every time he so much as looked at her, he saw all the possibilities, all of the wonderful things she could grow up to do, the wonderful woman she’d become, but he no longer saw where he fit into that picture.
But this was one thing he could do, one thing he could still help with: figuring out her powers. There was still so much they didn’t understand about the Terrigen myst and it’s effects, and beneath the grief and defeat, and the part of him that was just a paranoid father, terrified of his daughter’s safety, there was the scientist itching to find out more. The world had changed overnight, the laws of physics and nature forever altered. If it hadn’t become a nightmare so quickly, it would have been a dream. “Okay,” he agreed and offered her his hand to shake. “One week. You got yourself a deal.” But he’d stay as long as she wanted him to. He always would.
“Well, that’s perfect. Sweet and old is just my type.” A certain centennial, not looking a day over thirty, frozen in a block of ice for seventy years, popped up into the back of his mind, but Tony pushed the thought away. Nope. Nope. Nope. He wasn’t thinking about that. Not him. Not now, maybe not ever. He still wasn’t sure if he was even going to the memorial later that week, if he could stomach watching the world mourn Captain America.
“Wait, hold on. Back up. Vaguely handsome? Ouch. And here I thought we were just going to put my face on all of the socks. Instant sellout,” he joked. At the idea of tech-laced fabric, he made a sound as if to say ‘easy.’ “Course it’s possible. Anything is possible when you’re a Stark.” At least he hadn’t lost all his cocky self assurance. His company and future might be in the crapper but temperature reacting fabric? No problem. He had that in the bag, easy. He leaned back in his seat, biting down a full, real smile, as he imagined the news articles when they saw his new turn of fate: from tech enterprise to sock empire. “You have an idea, Kid, and I’ll make it happen. That’s the rule. That’s always going to be the rule.” And in that, he meant a lot more than an imaginary sock business.
He picked up the desert menu–and he didn’t turn it over, didn’t look at the drink options, though he was overtly aware of it; one small win, and he’d take it. “Okay, but we’re getting two cherries and extra whipped cream. And caramel sauce.” Sugar was always a good compromise, as Tony stayed away from the stuff almost as much as he stayed away from alcohol. He had allowed himself only one real indulgence, and that was, according to JARVIS, a “disgusting amount” of processed sugar in his coffee every day. Addiction never went away, it just moved locations, so Tony shifted through the alternatives one by one: sometimes it was an addiction to danger–adrenaline spiking missions and fights that he only just won by an inch–sometimes speed, and often time work: putting all that need, all that pressing buzzing at the back of his skull into a new project. Inventing instead of drinking. Designing instead of drinking. Making instead of drowning.
Or somedays he just ate too many cookies.
“Have you finished your homework?” he asked suddenly. Between the trial and the powers and the mess all around them, he couldn’t imagine her having time.
She grinned and shook his hand, glad he didn’t try to argue the deal down any further. He would’ve lost, anyway.
“You know what I mean,” she waved off his maybe-joking, maybe-not joking offense. “And you know you’re handsome; I don’t need to stroke that part of your ego…or any part of your ego. Ew.” Ally squirmed at her own choice of words, and decided, instead of trying to continue to over-explain, to stuff her mouth with a huge bite of pizza. “Not all ideas are good ideas,” she said around the mostly chewed ball of pizza in her mouth, raising a hand to not be so disgusting despite talking with her mouth full.
Watching him look over the dessert menu, Ally nodded vigorously at his additions to the sundae, but her expression quickly turned to something much more confused at his randomly blurted question. “You’re worried about homework? I’m probably not gonna be going to that school anymore…Will I be going to any school? How does that work?” Ally was too young to remember how the transferring schools thing worked when she first moved in with Tony; she figured it’d be kind of the same deal, just reversed now that they’d be living with her grandparents in her old hometown. “So no,” she actually answered, “I haven’t finished my homework.”
