Yesterday I asked for possible questions for a fic I was writing. I am now done said fic! It was a random idea that happened as I was pouring the chocolate into the mold of a tennis racket. I don’t know why but the first lines of the fic were there and BAM. So, enjoy some Tony teaching recruits fic!
Everybody Wants to Rule the World
“Welcome, newbies, to the only class SHIELD has to offer on surviving this shit. It’s usually taught by Agent Phil Coulson, a man who is currently ignoring orders and on vacation because his lung was popped out by an alien scepter and apparently that means he can flee whenever he so chooses.” Tony claps his hands together, grinning. “So, I’ll be temporarily filling in for him today, hi, Tony Stark, Iron Man, CEO of awesome. And here is my assistant/resident bodyguard that I did not ask for, the very lovely and infuriating Steve Rogers, aka, Captain America. Questions at the end, notebooks out and ready, no playing Galaga or Tetris or any form of entertainment on your SHIELD issued phones, because I will know. Ready for some fun?”
The classroom full of new SHIELD agents shift in their seats, eyes wide as Tony paces in front. He always wanted to teach. Steve stands off the side, dressed in civilian clothes and rolling his eyes. Tony sticks his tongue out at him. The recruits begin to whisper.
All right, guys, here’s the next chapter to Past Meets Present. For everyone who is new to the series, you can find the first bit here. I’ve finally kicked my butt into gear and I’m hoping to have the first arc done by the end of June. I WILL KEEP THIS DEADLINE. This one touches on a bit more vivid ideas of abuse, so be forewarned. All righty, enjoy!
Tony carefully raised the mug to his lips and made a curious sound. The milk was sweet, but not too overwhelming. He swished it around carefully, picking out the flavours, and kicked his legs. It was good. Peggy watched him from the other side of the counter, a soft smile still on her lips and her own mug cooling between her hands. Captain America was perched beside Tony, and Tony couldn’t stop reaching over to grab him every few seconds. Just to be sure.
“Can I ask why your father had Captain America, ducky?” Peggy asked. Tony blinked at her and tilted the cup up again to think. From what Peggy had told him, his father didn’t even remember taking Cap. So, the fact that his father hadn’t had Captain America on him when he had given Tony his dinner and the plans meant his father truly didn’t mean anything by his actions before. He must’ve been angry at the explosion, not Tony’s friendship with Cap. Ergo, his father wasn’t at fault here.
an unpopular opinon...
10 REASONS WHY AVENGERS WILL BE BETTER THAN THE HUNGER GAMES:
- Better actors
- Samuel L Jackson
- Nearly 24 MILLION views on the trailer. (Hunger Games managed 11 million.)
- It doesn’t revolve around whiny bitches just fighting to survive. (They’re fighting for a higher purpose)
- Loki is a boss
- Black Widow has a damn fine ass (thank you scarlett johansson)
- Better hype
- Only stupid teenage fan girls gave two shits about the Hunger Games being a movie
- Just c’mon, everyone knows it will be
Don’t like me saying it? THEN COME AT ME BRO.
So very bored... Have a random story I just made up.
Clint glanced at his watch, silently cursing himself for having not asked Stark to watch for his visitor. He had left a note for the person, the person who’d saved his life, to show up at Stark’s place and prove that he wasn’t a threat.
A short, bouncy girl passed him and not-so-secretly secretly slipped a tiny, folded piece of paper in his pocket. She flipped her super-short dark brown hair, but her hazel eyes held little happiness or light as she started to walk away.
Hawkeye kept his eyes on her as he fished the paper out of his pocket, wondering why the man who’d saved him would send a little girl to contact him.
The note was simple.
Silver key on golden chain,
Rests on neck of lovely dame,
Who’s powers never can be tame,
For silver key, find Danger’s Name.
Okay, so it wasn’t so simple. It was some sort of riddle.
Clint looked up in time to see the girl go around a corner and, on instinct, followed her.
For three hours.
In the rain.
Without a jacket.
Suffice to say, by the time he got home, (with absolutely no leads,) he was chilled to the bone and sneezing every couple minutes.
Natascha took one look at him and sent him to bed, muttering something about having to take care of an overgrown six-year-old.
A/N: Okay, so what did you guys think?