June 6, 2008.

atrata has a better version of this. And gabby_silang has a version that will make your heart melt in its cold shell.

( This year's MIT commencement address, as given by Tony Stark. PG. )

Real speaker, by the way, was this gentleman. And Happy Fourth, my fellow Americans.

(no subject)

The Prodigal
by montana_crows. Tony/Obadiah.

So. I was going to do a big "PROOF I READ THINGS BESIDES IRON MAN"" rec post with this, a mind-blowingly perfect and professional mini-comic of Martha Wayne, nee Kane, that notexotic pointed me towards. And, also, this, which is a log of telegrams sent between Mycroft and Sherlock during Sherlock's post-Reichenbach perambulations. I snagged that from atrata's del of doom. This is also from that, but. OMG.

GUYS. GUYS. THAT STORY.

Post-movie Tony freaking out about Obadiah. Rhodey and Pepper reacting to Tony's inability to deal. Press conference for one of the two greatest weapons developers in the U.S. is dead. Fourteen year old Tony with robotics notes written down his arm and oh my God, it's so creepy and fucked up and great. Fourteen year old Tony visiting colleges with Obadiah. It's so good and creepy. Have I mentioned creepy? And creepy? And the Tony/Obadiah sex? And the surprise pairing, but not really, except the punchline will make you suck in your breath? And the writing is just sparse, precise, and utterly, utterly convincing. Linen trousers. Cigars. That line of sheer, mind-bending creepy.

Have I mentioned fourteen year old Tony with robotics notes written down his arm? Irish whiskey, not Scotch. And the precision of this author. My God.

I am dead. I am dead of a ruptured kink.