#did you know that if you get admitted for a 72 hour stay weekend days don’t count towards those 72 hours?

[transfemgorgug]

saw a tiktok about a schizophrenic man committing a violent hate crime and a lot of the comments were fearmongering about schizophrenic people in general, not the specific situation. and it just got me thinking about how schizophrenia is treated in media and the news, how you only hear about schizophrenic people when they’ve committed a violent crime, how society says these people need to be locked up in mental institutions for their own good, and like. i feel like people don’t understand that bodily autonomy applies to everybody. yes, even truly awful people. and truly awful people who happen to be mentally ill are not awful because of their mental illness, the two are totally unrelated. obviously, someone who’s committing violent hate crimes should not be allowed to continue to do those crimes. but just because a person poses a threat, the way to neutralize that threat is not involuntary commitment. because when you start to shove the “bad” crazy people in mental institutions against their will, that opens the gates for all mentally ill people to be institutionalized.

[nice-kill-tanaka]

🌄Midoriya + Sick S/O🌌

Summary: Neither of you were sure how you ended up so ill, but I suppose that didn’t matter at this point. Now, like an attentive partner, this boy is doing everything he can to make you feel better. But, what happens when all you really need is your on-time med dosage and roughly 18+ hours of sleep?

A/N: Note to anyone who plans on getting to know me personally: Don’t try to take care of me when I’m sick. Food will go uneaten, drinks will go untouched, and every warm item you own will mysteriously come up missing.

\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/

☘️Izuku Midoriya☘️

It started rather inconspicuously. A sore throat that was clearly unprovoked. You had done nothing to make your throat hurt, so your mind wandered to the next most likely possibility

You were in the beginning stages of the bitch called a cold

Thankfully, it was a Friday. So you had the weekend to get over your ailment 

Immediately, your boyfriend, Izuku, notices how you haven’t been speaking as much. How your eyes had glazed over as though you were occupied with something else

So, at the end of the day, Izuku asks to take your temperature

“What the-“

“Hm? What is it?”

“102.1?! Babe, are you okay??”

As good as you can I suppose. At least, when your temperature is 👌 this close to “you should be dead” territory

Izuku’s first instinct is to usher you to your dorm and keep you there, so at least he knows where you are. Which he would’ve done had he not considered how you might’ve felt about having your autonomy  ✨snatched✨ from you at a moment’s notice

Regardless of if you would’ve minded, Izuku didn’t want to assume

Come Saturday, your exterior health rapidly deteriorated

“YeAh, No, I’m FiNe.” Bro, you look/feel like shit, it’d be nice if you’d admit it 🤡

By the time you woke up from a very uncomfortable night, your dorm room felt way too stuffy to stay in all day

So, that’s the story of how you ended up crashing on a random couch on the dorm’s first floor. Equipped with nothing but a blanket, pillow, tissues, and your ratty-ass pajamas

Izuku was first to notice you leaving your room so early (You have M*neta’s old room since it doesn’t 🧚‍♀️✨exist✨🧚‍♀️ in this universe), as you live next to him by some miracle of design

And when he saw you all miserable in your little spot on the couch?

Man that shit hurted 😔👊

He could tell that you felt awful through your stagnant position and labored breathing, and guilt gnawed at him because he couldn’t just take your suffering away

He wanted to do something, anything to ease your illness

Inevitably, you heard your boyfriend’s fretful muttering, turning your head slightly to greet him with a tired half-smile

“...’Morning, Izu-chan, you sleep well?”

Izuku froze in place, answering as sweetly as he could (which, in our p.o.v., sounds like an angel coming to escort you to the afterlife)

He tried his best not to talk about himself, trying to talk about you instead. How you feel, and how he can make you feel better

You answer Izuku’s myriad of questions with endearment, flattered that he’s so concerned about you. You even politely accept his offer to get you a *dry* breakfast (despite being unsure of your ability to keep food down)

However, you are a Tired Bitch™️ and Izuku’s erratic behavior wears you down rather quickly

You’re not annoyed of course! You wouldn’t be dating Izuku if you couldn’t handle his breakneck-paced brain

But, his constant fidgeting and offers for assistance keeps you from the approximate 30+ hours of sleep you need to get over your 72 hour bug (as diagnosed by Recovery Girl)

“Did I remember to get you some water?? If you’re feeling dehydrated, I could-”

You grab Izuku’s wrist before he could scurry off again

“Izu, I appreciate the sentiment, really. But, you fretting over me so much is literally making me nauseous. I’m not asking you to leave! But...could we just...chill until this thing blows over...?”

Then, it all clicks for Izuku

Whenever he’d run to get you something, he’d always come back to you being half asleep and more peaceful than you were when he was around asking you a million questions. He almost felt stupid for realizing this so late

You didn’t need to be babied and monitored 24/7, you just needed a safe space to literally sleep it off

So, you both agreed to stay in this one spot for as long as Mr. Aizawa allowed it (He was a little more lenient since you were sick and needed to recover in the most efficient way possible)

Izuku let you lay on his chest between his legs while you were out like a light for an ungodly amount of time

And when I tell you Izuku was committed to staying in one spot? Iida, Uraraka, and Todoroki had to pry him off of you to make him eat his meals

He made this agreement to chill with you until you got better, and like hell was he going to deviate from it

In hind-sight, Izuku probably shouldn’t have had so much physical contact with you 💀

Guess who was sick for the next few days 🤡

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[🌌Take this for your travels, bud. Don’t worry about paying me or anything, everything’s on the house! Though 🍁likes🍁 and ☘️reblogs☘️ are appreciated!🌄] — Reagan

[goodlucktai]

Hi! I love your works! 71 + 72 for Luffy and Jinbei?

PROMPTS LIST

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

smile again

x

As a watchdog journalist, Jinbei's work takes him everywhere. He isn't always in the best position to receive phone calls. Sometimes, depending on what story his group decides to chase after and what far-flung corner of the world it leads them to, Jinbei goes weeks without internet access.

By the time he gets news of the accident, Luffy has been out of the hospital for a month and Ace has been dead just as long.

Jinbei has to go home.

His colleagues-- a group of solid, hard-working people he's known for going on twenty years, has worked with on the field and off, in smoke and fire and claustrophobic office spaces-- are entirely understanding.

Tiger drives him to a small airport, the truck bouncing along a bumpy gravel road. There's a single, hastily-packed duffel in the bed of the pickup. Jinbei isn't even sure what he shoved in there, having only made one mindless pass through his room. He would have left without his passport if Hatchan hadn't shoved it into his hands on his way out the door.

"It may be time for me to retire," Jinbei says aloud. His mind is ebbing and rising like a tide, a vast ocean of grief. Thoughts go bobbing away like loose buoys before he can get a grasp on them.

All he can think of is the last video-call he made home, over a month ago now. Ace and Luffy, pressed cheek-to-cheek so they'd both fit in-frame, competitive in all things and unwilling to take turns, even as Jinbei laughingly promised he had plenty of time to talk.

They made him promise to call again soon. He meant to.

"Don't worry about us over here," Tiger says. His eyes are on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. He carries Jinbei's grief like it's his own. "Just worry about your boy."

His boy, Jinbei thinks. Not by blood or by law, certainly, but by something less quantifiable than that. Those scrappy kids that spilled into his yard one muggy summer evening, hiding in the hedges from their well-antagonized CPS caseworker and somehow claiming a piece of Jinbei's heart from the moment he first laid eyes on them.

Ace was so angry back then, and Luffy was so easily frightened, and they clung to each other in a practiced way, as if they were so used to the world trying to claw them apart that they didn't expect anything else, even from a perfect stranger. They didn't seem to know what to do with kindness. Ace watched Jinbei like a hawk for weeks, long after Luffy warmed up to him. His trust, when he finally gave it, felt like a prize.

Jinbei was working long, unpredictable hours, and knew it wouldn't be fair to drag two children into his household if he couldn't afford them the time and care they deserved-- but after school? Weekends? Holidays? Those he gave up freely.

His days gained some semblance of routine again, for the fist time since he finished college. His kitchenware came down from the cupboard, the pockmarked kitchen table was often set for three. He made dinner at home, more than he ate in the office with his colleagues.

Hell, his colleagues ate dinner with him at home more often, too. Within an hour of meeting the boys, each of Jinbei's friends, to a man, would have taken a bullet for either of them, no questions asked.

The sense of structure did wonders for the brothers. With a safe place to return to when they needed it, and someone to fall back on, Ace stopped looking at every potential foster home as if it was a threat. Luffy came out of his shell, bolder with each new day. He made a friend in the village, a boy with vivid green eyes, and they hardly spent a moment apart.

They were finally placed with a couple who lived nearby. Shanks was wry and good-natured, and Benn had the patience of a saint. After a few weeks, when Jinbei asked how they were settling in, his worries were soothed: Luffy clearly adored them, and even Ace grudgingly admitted they weren't so bad.

And when the time came, and Ace applied for emancipation as well as custody of his brother, he had a small army in his corner. A patchwork family collected in little bits and pieces, ready to support him through anything.

"I will always be here for you both," Jinbei had promised him, countless times. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm alive."

"Thank you," Ace said, a little bashful. But he was so pleased, and so full of hope for the future, and he said, "I'll feel better, knowing someone's around to look after Luffy if I can't."

He immediately got shouted down by his entire strange extended pseudo-family for daring to suggest they'd ever let anything happen to him, and it made him laugh so brightly, and now the memory sticks like needles in Jinbei's throat.

Tiger hugs him hard before Jinbei boards the plane. In the back of his mind, where there is a tiny corner free from drowning, Jinbei can't help but wonder when he'll see his friend again.

He keeps thinking of that last video call. He can't remember everything they talked about. He doesn't think he said enough. He almost certainly didn't tell Ace everything he deserved to hear. Foolishly, he assumed there would be another time.

He's learned from this. He won't take it for granted any more.

"Call me when you land," Tiger says. "Give the monkey our love."

"I will," Jinbei replies. His heart is so heavy he doesn't know how he manages the steps onto the plane. He doesn't know how the pilot manages to lift them up from the tarmac. It's a wonder they aren't sinking, straight through the earth.

Nami and Usopp are waiting for him at the airport, wide-awake even though it's well past two o'clock in the morning. They're familiar to Jinbei from the stories Luffy has told him, from the numerous video calls they've bullied their way into over the years, and the handful of birthdays and holidays Jinbei was able to make it home for.

"Luffy wanted to come with us to pick you up, but he fell asleep," Usopp says, apropos of nothing, as they're waiting for their Uber. "Sanji said it was a small miracle, and Zoro looked like he was going to hunt us for sport if we even thought about waking him up, so--"

"He hasn't been sleeping, then?" Jinbei asks quietly.

"After he came home, he was on some pretty heavy meds, and he slept a lot," Nami says. Her arms are folded tight against her chest in the nighttime chill, her eyes trained somewhere far away. "But he had bad dreams and he would wake up disoriented. Now he fights sleep tooth and nail."

"We've all sort of become the insomnia squad," Usopp pipes up. "Thank god I'm not taking any classes this summer."

"Sanji's gotten really good at making lattes," Nami adds with a small smile. "Wait till you see his shiny new espresso machine."

"I'm like eight-five percent sure he stole it from the Baratie."

Jinbei listens to their chatter, feeling at once anchored by them and adrift at sea. It makes sense that they would be ahead of him. They've been here all this time, practically from the moment of the accident, facing it with all the bravery and endurance of sailors in a typhoon. Jinbei, meanwhile, had been living in an unchanged world.

For the last month, Ace has been dead. How many times had Jinbei thought about him? Mentioned him to a friend? How many times had Jinbei wrongly said his name in the present-tense?

The house is warmly-lit when they arrive, but quiet. An old blue Irish wolfhound greets them at the door, wagging his tail. Robin looks up from the papers she has spread out on the coffee table and smiles. Chopper is fast asleep beside her, his head on her shoulder. Behind them, Jinbei can see Sanji at work in the kitchen, shaping dough. Something is baking that smells of cinnamon and apples.

They weren't kidding about their sleep schedules being a mess.

"Hello, Jinbei. It's good to see you," Robin says. Her voice is soft, in deference to the sleeping teenager. "Luffy is asleep, but you can see him if you like."

"Please," Jinbei replies hoarsely.

"I'll take him," Nami says. "Usopp, would you bring his bag to the guest bedroom?"

"'Course," Usopp replies, but he makes a detour into the kitchen first.

Nami takes Jinbei's hand and leads him toward the stairs. "I feel really stupid about this, but I was so angry at you," she admits as they make their way up. "It's hardly the first time we haven't been able to contact you, and I know why that is. But-- I don't know, I think I was going crazy. I wanted Luffy to have everything he wanted. I wanted everyone who loved him to be here every time he woke up. So I-- so there might be some angry emails waiting for you, but please don't hate me for it."

"I won't even read them," Jinbei promises gravely, his heart cleaved clean in two. "I can't imagine how-- how hard it must have been. I-- if I had gotten the messages sooner-- "

"I know," Nami assures him, pausing outside a closed bedroom door. "Franky spoke to you like six hours ago, and you're already here. You dropped everything to be here. We know the kind of person you are."

She stands up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and Jinbei bends to accommodate her, the same way he does for Koala. Then Nami reaches out and pushes open the door.

Zoro is awake, sitting against the headboard with his phone in hand and earphones in, and his eyes are as bright and sharp now as they were when he was a child. He looks up when the door opens, and seems to relax when he sees Jinbei stepping in behind Nami.

"Go to sleep," Nami whispers, pointing at the second bed across the spacious room.

"Don't tell me what to do," Zoro replies, just as quiet, but he pulls his earphones out and extracts himself from the bed with all the exacting precision of a bomb disposal technician. Nami takes him by the arm, helping him get up so carefully that the mattress hardly moves. It's such a well-practiced maneuver that Jinbei thinks he honestly might cry.

"If one of you would stay for a bit, I'll grab a shower," Zoro says.

"Sure, stinky," Nami says, nudging him toward the door. "Jinbei?"

He nods, unsure of what he's agreeing to. Now that he's finally next to Luffy, nothing else seems to exist. He sinks into the chair beside the bed, only half-aware of Nami and Zoro leaving. Their murmured conversation is cut off by the closing door. The room is silent, save for the gentle, unobtrusive sound of Luffy's steady breathing.

He's lost weight since Jinbei saw him last. There are shadows on his face that don't belong there. He looks both older and younger than he has any right to, even now, when his face is untroubled and slack with sleep.

"Hello, little monkey," Jinbei says. His voice is quiet, but it still breaks. He's crying, he realizes, thick tears rolling down his face with abandon. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He thinks of two little boys, spilling into his life on accident, taking up room in his home and his heart as if they always belonged there. They weren't his, not really, but he loved them anyway. Loves them still.

"I'm here now," he whispers. His hands are shaking. "I'm going to protect you, like I promised. I'm here, Ace. Please believe me, wherever you are. I won't fail you again."

[im-the-letter-t]

Another Prompt List

Fluff: 

1.  “I just love him/her/them so much!”

2. “My life would be empty without you.”

3. “You make me happy.”

4. “I’m not leaving until you smile.”

5. “You make me want to be a better person.”

6. “Your hair smells amazing.”

7. “You’re warm.”

8. “I will love you for the rest of my life.”

9. “I love you! Never change!”

10. “You have frosting on your nose.”

11. “Wow. You look so- wow.”

12. “I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

13. “I look at you and I’m home.”

14. “You changed my life.”

15. “You deserve to be loved.”

16. “I haven’t seen you in forever!” “It’s been 20 minutes” 

17. “I’m a little confused, but I’m in!”

18. “ Can you stand there for another minute? I just want to keep looking at you for a bit longer. “

19. “That all makes sense, but why are you wearing a carrot costume?”

20. “ So I did a thing...”

21. “I have a surprise for you!” 

22. “Do you love me?” 

23. “You’re just so perfect.”

24. “It’s not funny!”

25. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me.”

26. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

27. “Hey, gorgeous.” 

28. “I need your help cooking dinner.”

29. “Oh, so now we have a schedule for when we can cuddle?”

30. “Your hair is soft when you brush it.”

31. “We should go apple picking this weekend.”

32. “Operation perfect surprise party is a go.” 

33. “Good morning! I made waffles!”

34. “Every day I know you, I love you more.”

35. “I need you.” “For?” “Ever.”

36. “Hug me tighter.” 

37. “You look so cute in pajamas.”

38. “Kiss me.” 

39. “Can I see you smile?” 

40. “Don’t give me that look.”

41. “You’re my life.”

42. “Don’t move. I don’t want this moment to end.”

43. “Found you!”

44. “Family hug!”

45. “You want me to dance? You know that’s just walking with pizzazz, right?

46. “I brought an extra blanket.”

47. “I brought smoothies!”

48. “The baby is crying and it’s your turn to deal with it.”

49. “I’ve been taking dance lessons.”

50. “Happy birthday to my favorite person ever.” 

Angst: 

51. “So you’ve been lying this whole time?”

52. “Did you ever even love me at all?”

53. “Were you always just going to leave?” 

54. “I don’t love you!”

55. “I’m all alone.”

56. “I don’t need you! I don’t need any of you!”

57. “You’re not sorry!”

58. “I loved you.”

59. “You don’t care about me!” 

60. “I could be dead and you wouldn’t even care!”

61. “Why did you come back?”

62. “What are you doing here?”

63. “Losing him/her/them was like losing everything.” 

64. “This is killing me.” 

65. “I give up!” 

66. “I wish I’d never met you!” 

67. “I don’t want to hurt anymore!”

68. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I need you to forgive me.” 

69. “Stop doing this to me.”

70. “Don’t leave me like this!”

71. “How dare you play the victim?”

72. “After what you did, nothing can hurt me anymore.”

73. “There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t regret leaving.”

74. “No, don’t cry, don’t do that to me.”

75. “I thought I loved you, but now I’m not so sure.”

76. “I never meant to hurt you.” 

77. “I never want to see you again!”

78. “Get out.”

79. “You deserve so much better than what I can be.”

80. “I never meant for things to end up this way.”

81. “The thing about star crossed lovers is they never get their happy ending.” 

82. “So you’re just going to leave? You aren’t even going to tell me why?”

83. “What did you do to him/her/them?!” 

84. “Give him/her/them back!”

85. “I don’t need you!”

86. “I can’t do this anymore.”

87. “ Make up your mind!”

88. “ You either love me or you hate me, and I hate that I can’t tell. 

89. “ I don’t want us to wind up a tragedy.”

90. “ I can’t stay.”

91. “ You say you love me, but you don’t.”

92. “ You keep saying you don’t love me, but I know you do.” 

93. “ I’ll never get over you.”

94. “ I refuse to be loved partially. Either you love me completely or not at all. “

95. “ I don’t want to hurt anymore.”

96. “They all warned me about you. Maybe they were right.”

97. “ Nobody would do that to somebody they love.” 

98. “ Who is/are he/she/they?!”

99. “ You killed him/her/them!”

100. “ I trusted you.” 

Hurt/comfort:

101. “ They can’t get to you now.”

102. “ Why are you all covered in blood?”

103. “ I miss him/her/them so much I don’t know what to do. Help me.” 

104. “ You are not fine! You were shot!”

105. “ Please don’t die. Whatever you do, just don’t die.”

106. “ I can’t stand to see you cry.” 

107. “ You’re okay. It was just a nightmare.”

108. “ Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” 

109. “ Go back to bed, you’re sick.”

110. “ The doctor told you to stay off of that ankle.” 

111. “ Who did this to you?” 

112. “ You have to wake up! Please, I need you.”

113. “ Stop squirming so I can clean this bullet wound!”

114. “ I made you some soup.”

115. “ Were you stabbed?!”

116. “ There’s nothing you can do to  save me now. Just stay with me. That’s enough.” 

117. “ You are the most accident prone person I have ever met.”

118. “ I promise to get you out of here alive.”

119. “ Never scare me like that again! I thought I’d lost you!”

120. “ That was quite the tumble.”

121. “ That was a really reckless thing for you to do.” “ I survived, didn’t I?”

122. “ I’m not letting go of you until you stop crying.”

123. “ He/she/they had no right to say that to you.” 

124. “ It isn’t your fault.”

125. “ You don’t need to be alone right now.” 

126. “ Hey, look at me. It’s going to be okay.” 

127. “ I would never do that to you.” 

128. “ I’ve been hurt worse. I can get through this.” 

129. “ Hey, stop crying. I’m not dead yet.” 

130. “ I’ll be fine, I promise.”

131. “ I’ve got you.”

132. “ Don’t try to stand up. I’ll carry you.”

133. “ Why are you holding your side like that? Are you bleeding?”

134. “ You worry too much. The knife wasn’t even that big.” 

135. “ Is this your blood?” *other person looks away* “Hey! Look at me! The blood on my hands. Is it yours?” 

136. “ Can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me.” 

137. “ Of course I was worried! You just walked in here and passed out!”

138. “ I can’t believe it took me almost dying for you to admit you were in love with me.”

139. “ If you’re going to kill him/her/them, kill me too!”

140. “You deserve to be happy, so I’m not leaving until I cheer you up.” 

141. “Is/are he/she/they going to wake up or not?”

142. “ You don’t remember me?” 

143. “ You hit your head pretty hard.”

144. “ Don’t move. You’ll make it worse.”

145. “ Stop it with all of the backstory! I just need to know of he/she/they is/are breathing!” 146. “ I’m sick and now nobody is letting me leave my house/room.” 

147. “ I told you, I’m fine.”

148. “ I left for an hour and came back to find you passed out in a very scary pool of blood.”

149. “ You better bring him/her/them back alive or so help me...

150. “ You have nothing to be afraid of.” 

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Our Road is Long

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: closeted!Tony, self-doubt, internal homophobia Word Count: ~13k Notes: thanks to @mrsluttystark - the harry style’s prompt caught my eye and I just kind of went with it. i changed a few things here and there, but here’s hoping it’s what you were kind of picturing!  Summary: 

Pepper and Tony are divorced, but not before they have a gorgeous baby girl named Morgan. She is the center of Tony's world - even when it's melting down little by little. Having been in the closet most of his life, Tony is struggling to come to terms with the wants and needs that keep making themselves known - especially after he meets a particularly handsome kindergarten teacher, Peter Parker.

He's bad about picking Morgan up from school, but he's forced to when Pepper and her new husband go out of town. What ensues is the hilarity and vulnerability that comes with coming to terms with who you really are - Tony Stark style!

There's a lot of Tony/Morgan scenes - hang on tight for the cuteness!

Read it on AO3 here!

The divorce was the easy part.

After finding Pepper in bed with an admittedly handsome blonde with great pecs and one of the nicest asses Tony could remember seeing, separating felt like the only rational thing to do. Pepper played the part of his beard for long enough – and despite how it happened, he didn’t feel bad that their marriage was over. A part of him felt like it might be time to finally be himself – let the world know what the real Tony Stark liked, who he actually was. His father’s voice was still too loud, though – even after all these years, Howard’s “you will not tarnish our name with your unnatural behavior,” dictated his actions.

The best part of his marriage to Pepper came from their daughter – a little girl who had Tony’s hair and eye color, but the beautiful round eye structure of her mother. She made Tony feel like a hero – like he could do no wrong in her opinion. No one else in his life gave him that much benefit of the doubt. It felt good to have someone looking up to him, even if that only happened on the weekends.

Pepper was tactful in her requests from the divorce – something that Tony felt grateful for. She kept the CEO position of Stark Industries; which Tony was happy to keep in her name – he liked getting to tinker on his own projects too much to worry about the business side of things at this point of his life. It gutted him a little when Pepper demanded Morgan stay with her most of the time – that little girl was one of the only things he liked about his life.

He conceded anyway, though – in the end, he figured having some stability from Pepper and Steve was better than what he could give her. He had trouble remembering to pick her up from daycare – a kid deserved more than that.

When the whirlwind of it was over, Tony kept his tower and all of the cool things in it – he got freedom he hadn’t wanted, and a huge split between himself and his daughter. He didn’t love Pepper, that was never a part of the deal. Having someone by his side went deeper than that. The idea of loneliness sat in the pit of his stomach for a while – the emptiness of the place a little haunting after so much laughter, so much time spent watching Morgan grow up. All wasn’t lost, of course – he got to see her on the weekends and the occasional holiday.

To make up for being away from her throughout the week, Tony made every time they were together a production. When she was younger, they went out to playgrounds and played until the girl practically fell asleep standing. He fed her whatever he decided a little kid should eat – their favorite being peanut butter and jellies with the crusts cut off.

The older she got, the more Tony started to incorporate her into his work in the lab. No Stark would fall behind the learning curve. Luckily, she took to it the same way Tony did, like the naturals that they were. Tony felt some of his best memories in his entire life were the weekends with Morgan, the two of them fixing Dum-E, building new little toys, and playing around with all the gadgets Stark Industries developed over the years.

For Morgan’s presence, Tony was grateful. He could never regret his time with Pepper because of her existence, so he kept things civil. They weren’t sharing Christmas dinners, or anything, but he got a hug from Pepper and a handshake from Steve every time he walked to the door to pick his daughter up. The idea of his little girl growing up away from him still shook him to the very core – he hated every second he knew he was missing; but they’d done a good job coming together to give her the stability she needed. It was much easier to be a family this way – no matter how bitter Tony wanted to be, he couldn’t deny it.

As long as Morgan was happy, Tony knew he could get past his hang-ups and make the most of whatever came his way.

Outside of his time with Morgan, Tony did not feel as optimistic. Things with Stark Industries were booming, he felt more than grateful for that fact. He couldn’t imagine an added stressor to the inner turmoil he dealt with on a daily basis. The mind he prided himself on couldn’t find a place to teether, the detachment of the routine he grew so accustomed to kicking him on his ass. Without Pepper, Tony didn’t have the buffer of someone telling him to go to bed or keeping most of the things in his life perfectly in order. He felt embarrassed to admit that it took him way too long to find where she put his belts in the closet after moving her own stuff out.

Not having that buffer also meant unlimited opportunity to spend all of his time consumed in the lab – so he let himself do just that. Aside from the alarm on his phone Friday night and Sunday afternoon, Tony didn’t think much about time. There were 72-hour stints in the lab that were quickly followed by an entire 24 of them in bed, dead to the world. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that – but it filled the gap.

There were so many things he needed to deal with in his personal life, lots of them topics Tony had been disregarding for most of his life. Having never learnt to deal with anything head on, Tony ignored it. Maybe that’s why he worked so hard – or maybe that’s why he decided to settle for something that wasn’t going to make either people a part of it happy. It felt easier to turn his head the other direction than actually face the fact that nothing would make him straight – not a single thing in this world.

He’d been taught from an early age to feel nothing but shame about it, too. If nothing else, Tony consciously understood that they were now in a totally different time of the world – that some things would need to change, but overall, there wouldn’t be too much detriment done. His insecurities, however – they were much louder than the literal facts he knew and understood, but obviously could not process – at least, not fully. A part of him thought that the right person – the right man – might change his mind and make it all worth it. He just never allowed himself to be in a position where he could find that man.

Between all of his time in the lab – there didn’t seem to be any change in his current position, either. No matter how solitary it felt when his little girl wasn’t around, Tony did nothing to change it. It felt like there’d been enough complicated in his life to really try and pursue anything else. That didn’t satisfy any of the thoughts in his head, or the yearnings within him – but it sure as hell kept him out of the news and focused on something that could be profitable.

For the most part, Tony didn’t get called out for it, either. Without Pepper there to literally pull him out of his chair and back onto whatever path he needed to be on – well, it was a lot easier for people to not see Tony for days on end. It didn’t matter, as long as he picked up Morgan and spent every second of the time he could with her – that’s all he was worried about.

Then, his little girl wasn’t so little anymore, he waited with Pepper and Steve as she turned around and waved at them one last time when they dropped her off for the first day of kindergarten.

“On Friday’s, you should pick her up from school, Tony,” Pepper said to him once Morgan was behind the sealed doors of the school’s entrance. Swiping off his sunglasses, Tony squinted at her, a brow raising. It wasn’t often that Tony got offered to spend extra time with his kid – so he didn’t think about how hard it’d been getting to pull himself out of his lab and out of the haze of nothing but relevant formulas and equations running through his brain.

“That sounds good, Pep. Thanks,” Tony finally replied, his eyes pointedly missing hers. He didn’t want to deal with whatever pitying look she might throw his way. Rubbing his chin, he let the silence linger for a second, then he turned around and started walking the other direction. “Always a pleasure,” he threw over his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye to the two of them. If he stuck around any longer, she’d be able to see the dark circles under his eyes and the collection of stubble on his upper cheeks he was usually so meticulous about taking care of.

There were gadgets and gizmos calling his name back in the lab, anyway.

He didn’t realize how fucked he actually was until he missed picking up Morgan for the fourth week in a row. The first couple of times he dealt with Pepper, she radiated hatred towards him. The fact that he spent time with Morgan was so important to her – despite the situation they were in, Pepper knew how much Tony loved their daughter. His slumps hadn’t been that bad in a while, but he couldn’t seem to pull himself out of this one. The lack of anger towards him this last failed attempt simply meant she moved past madness and into disappointment. It still smarted a little, having Pepper ever feel that way about him.

The next week, she didn’t give him a choice – her and Steve were going to Florida for the weekend and there was nothing he could do about it. Other than be on time to pick up their daughter, of course. Her rather blunt demands were clear; all Tony needed to do was get her at 3 from the carpool lane and the rest of the weekend was history. There were cartons of ice cream and a custom-made hot wheel car racing track waiting for them. He planned to let her use the entire living room, some of the modifications he made to the pieces would allow the cars to zoom around faster than the pure physics of the track would.

He got so caught up on a couple of the cars and fitting the wheels to run on the track that he let the snooze on his alarm to pick up Morgan go off more than a few times. When the annoying blare of the alarm finally managed to get through, it was already time to be there. Tony looked around panicked, his hands still covered in oil, some of the pieces he’d been working on spread out before him. Biting down on his lip, Tony dropped what was in his hands and got himself cleaned up – the clock ticking down ten minutes while he mucked around.

Disobeying the road signs got him to the school in less than eight minutes – his clock reading 3:21 when he threw the car into park and ran into the building. There were still plenty of people walking around, so he couldn’t be that late. Luckily, he didn’t have to get very far into the building, Tony recognized Morgan’s brown hair without the girl even having to turn around. The waves cascading down her back matched Tony’s when he let his own hair get a little longer. He felt himself smiling – his eyes moving from her over to the person squat down next to her, talking with kindly spoken words and wild hand gestures.

His daughter’s giggle had him stepping forward – the thought of her not even realizing his slip up something he felt grateful for (guilty, yes – but grateful nonetheless.) Tony almost stopped dead in his tracks when he finally managed to catch sight of the person’s face. The man was alluring – the skin of his cheeks pale and covering sharp cheek bones. His eyes were like diving into a river full of chocolate, delectable and overwhelming – Tony almost felt like they were pulling him in. It took a second to register that he was smiling – those pale cheeks coloring, the slightest crinkle at the corner of his eye making the man’s whole look pretty close to irresistible.

Morgan was too smart for her own good and followed the man’s eyes, her own lighting up when they met Tony’s for the first time in a week. “Daddy!” she exclaimed, her little feet carrying her over until she could throw her arms around him, her little nose pressing into his leg.

“Hey, sweet pea,” Tony replied, his hand running over her hair, then tugging at the little bow there, his tongue poking out in her direction. “Ready to go, stink face?” he asked her, his face in full blow smile mode now.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the man, who was now standing tall – they were the same height, though Tony’s hair stood a little taller. He almost out right chuckled at the thought – his vanity ludicrous. “This is Mr. Peter, daddy.” Morgan looked up at him, her eyes wide, the excitement of introducing her favorite people to each other so evident there. Fuck, he loved the hell out of her.

“Hi, Mr. Peter,” Tony spoke softly, his hand sticking out on offer between them. Their gazes locked, the zing of it almost enough to drop his hand and send him to his knees. He kept himself upright, though – his teeth digging into the side of his cheek to keep his thoughts right there, in the here and now. “I’m Tony Stark.”

The warm grip that encased his hand almost brought him to his knees again – he didn’t think he ever felt something so – magnetic. Tony let his fingers squeeze Peter’s lightly, both men holding onto the shake for a couple seconds too long. “Oh, Mr. Stark – I absolutely know who you are. It’s great to meet you in person. Morgan has been talking about you for weeks, nice to know I was thinking about the right guy,” They finally let go, and Peter’s hands moved to rest in the back pockets of his dark jeans.

Tony looked down at his daughter, the man’s words hitting him in the gut. Okay, so maybe he needed to get his shit together – maybe it wasn’t all that okay that he hadn’t been there when she expected him. That was shit his own father did and more than anything, Tony wanted to be so much better than Howard could have ever dreamed. “I hope she told you all about Dum-E – we’ve been replacing his interface the past couple of weekends.” His voice was proud, the young girl’s intelligence something Tony took great stock in.

Watching Peter light up with a laugh shouldn’t have been as nice as it was – it shouldn’t have sent a shock to his very core. Never before, he thought, his hand tightening ever so slightly on Morgan’s shoulder. Morgan broke in before the other man could speak, her face turning red from how hard she tried to keep the words inside.

“I did, daddy. I think a lot of the kids don’t believe me when I talk about things with you – but I told Mr. Peter all about how you made him wear the dunce cap because he hosed you down for the hundredth time that day.” Morgan’s hands were going wild, her excitability coming from Tony – a trait he hoped she kept forever.

Tony saw Peter nod his head, the smile on his face growing. “She did – in fact, she told me all about your long history of bad interactions with the robot.” He looked at Morgan with affection, the man obviously very good at his job – very in tune with the children he taught. “We’ve got show and tell coming up, maybe you can bring him?” Peter shot him a smirk, his eyes twinkling.

Morgan didn’t waste any time jumping on board, either. “Oh, can we please, daddy? No one will have anything nearly as cool as that.” Her smile broadened and her eyes started to well a little – the patented puppy dog gaze doing its best to melt him.

Who the hell was he to deny anyone that looked that cute anything they desired? Tony cupped her cheek and grinned, his head nodding. “We absolutely can, baby girl.” The squeal he got in return made up for the fact that getting the robot to the school would be an absolute pain in the ass. Regardless, Morgan’s interest in all of his tech and the building process needed to be nurtured – even if that meant hauling an ancient science fair project to a kindergarten class filled with young, impressionable children.

His little girl thrusting her backpack at him brought him back from his thoughts, her big brown eyes looking up at him. “Can we go now, daddy? You promised we could play with the track and it’s going to be bedtime before I know it!” She looked at him seriously, her lips in the slightest pout. It wasn’t necessary, Tony was aware that Morgan knew that just as well as he did. Shouldering the bag, Tony nodded at her, a wink being sent her way.

“Well, it’s nice to have met you, Peter. Thanks for taking such good care of Morgan,” he ruffled her hair again, the girl’s hands coming up to try and stop him. His feet didn’t want to move, though – Tony’s eyes were once again locked with Peter’s and the few feet of distance between them felt like too much. A compulsion to close the distance rushed through him – each of his fingers physically aching to touch.

The big grin spreading across the other man’s face didn’t help, either. “It was nice to meet you too, Tony.” He gripped his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds, Tony’s instinct to touch growing steadily by the second.

It took every ounce of self-control to keep his entire body from launching across the space between them and narrow it down to nothing.

Instead, he put his hand down to his side, Morgan grabbing it by default. She glanced up at him and smiled a toothy grin – she’d lost her first tooth over the summer, something that was quite the feat for the five-year-old.  

He shot Peter another smile before tugging at his daughter’s hand, his skin suddenly crawling with a feeling he couldn’t describe. “See you next week, Mr. Peter,” Tony tossed over his shoulder as they walked out – the younger man’s eyes not leaving him the entire time. A squeeze to one of his fingers had Tony looking down at the small girl next to him.

“Did you get the mint chip ice cream?” Morgan asked, her voice all of the sudden higher pitched, her eyes wide with worry. He fucked up one time and didn’t replace the stash and this was the treatment he got. Rolling his eyes, Tony kept her on edge until they got to the car. He dropped her hand and made quick work of putting her in her seat.

When she was all buckled in, Tony tickled her tummy, the squirms and giggles totally worth the shoe he took right in the bicep. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her head when their laughter died down, his heart full for the first time throughout that entire week. “I got mint chip ice cream and chocolate sauce. How’s that for sundae night?” Tony asked her, his pointer finger pressing against her nose in a very boop-like gesture.

The soft hand on his cheek surprised him for a second, Morgan going from laughter to total seriousness in the matter of a second. She totally got that trait from her mother, he thought – his eyes moving until he caught glances with his daughter. “I love you, Daddy,” Morgan said softly, her small fingers brushing his cheeks lightly. “Don’t tell mommy this, but you’re much better at sundae night. She tried to make me eat those bright red cherries – yuck!”

It felt a little easier to breath after that – he got in the car a whole lot more lighthearted than before, at least. Her babbles coming from the backseat were much better than anything Tony could have put on the radio – he loved learning more about Truffles the turtle and his adventures around the fish tank. One day he’d get her a dog and he couldn’t wait to see how she’d react to that – all of the stories she would tell.

Walking into the penthouse, Tony almost lost his shit right along with the little girl – her eyes lit up and her feet were carrying her over to the track he built before the rest of her body got on board. The trip and stumble she did added to the inability to keep a straight face – he slapped a hand over his mouth to continue to observe her silently. She walked around the track and inspected all of the different areas she knew Tony planned to change last weekend. “It looks like my red car is definitely going to win this time,” she mumbled, her hands skimming along the edges of it.

Despite loving the heck out of her, Tony felt determined to teach Morgan about reality and the ins and outs of navigating it. He never let her win and took lots of slack from Pepper about it – yet, it made her a smarter game player. She thought things through – she looked at the entire picture. If it made him an asshole to teach her that being the best was the only way to do things – well, he didn’t really give a shit. Tony already knew he was an asshole, anyway.

The few steps between himself and the living room were easily taken, his chest filled with excitement. Her reaction was exactly what he’d been looking for, the girl’s smile the single best thing Tony had in his life at present. He smiled in her direction, his eyebrows quirked, “we’ll see.” He swiftly picked her up, small arms wrapping around his neck without any hesitation. “Why don’t you go get changed into some lab clothes and we can find out,” Tony suggested, a kiss being placed on her cheek as he did.

Morgan giggled and kicked her feet, her hands pushing against him. “Put me down and I will.” He did exactly that, her legs moving the second she touched the ground. Getting to the end of the hall, she turned back and faced Tony, a mischievous glint in her eye – “you’re going down, daddy.”

----

Tony sat leaned against the island early the next morning – the dream he fell into last night still so very vivid, like every single touch he experienced within it was the real thing. His hands tightened around the mug in his hands, eyes slamming shut. It didn’t make sense, to feel so guilty – dreams were nothing, totally personal – no one had to or even got to know what was in them. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from playing it over and over again. Maybe that’s why he felt so dirty about it.

It wasn’t surprising when he fell into bed and immediately went to sleep the second his head hit the pillow. Between the races, copious amounts of ice cream, and the big game of tag they played right before bed, Tony was exhausted. He didn’t do a lot of sleeping during the earlier part of the week, either – so the rest was much needed. It wasn’t often he went through his sleep cycle enough to dream, he jumped awake at almost any sound or movement. Not last night, though – no, he’d gotten to live out the dream what felt like the entire night.

In it, he found himself on his knees. That made a lot of sense, actually – he liked that position and couldn’t remember the last time he found himself in it. His work-roughened hands were trailing along pale thighs, the skin there unblemished and slightly hairy – the muscle settled under the skin just right against his fingertips. His mouth was preoccupied with the expanse of a trim waist, tongue and teeth making a trail from one hipbone to the other.

It felt like the start of something very, very good.

Then, he looked up to catch the eye of the person above him and noticed chestnut curls, dark eyes, and pretty pink lips – the name Peter wanting to fall from his lips. Fingers were thrust into his hair and before he could think any more on it, Tony’s lips were wrapping themselves around an irresistible length – the tip already weeping with wetness, the tang of it pulling a moan from his chest. He set a vigorous pace and enjoyed every single second of it.

Right before what he assumed was a load of cum dripping down his throat, the hand in his hair gripped tightly, pulling his head back until Tony felt his lips slip off perfect, velvet heat – his eyes wide in confusion. “I want to cum with you inside of me,” Peter purred. Tony could do nothing other than get to his feet, his head being taken between two palms and brought forward until their lips were pressed together.

When he eventually bottomed out, Peter’s legs were on his shoulders, his knees pressing into Tony’s neck as their skin finally settled together. Because it was a dream, it went on forever. Tony could still remember the way the sweat trailed down the side of his face, his arms heavy and sore from holding his body up and thrusting with everything he had left. His stomach clenched tightly until there was nothing left but to jump off and give into the delightful pleasure of the free fall.

Even if was just a dream, Tony hadn’t ever cum that hard in his life and the result in his boxers when he jumped awake was something new, too. The last time he had a wet dream, he’d been under the age of 14 with no clue as to what in the hell was happening. Now, it felt a little shameful, like he couldn’t control his urges. In truth, that kind of seemed like the case. There weren’t even twelve hours between meeting the man and having a vivid fantasy about him.

Tony tried not to think about how very much his type the man was – or how Tony pictured a someone just like him in all his fantasies, long before he ever met the man.

Blinking, Tony brought his coffee cup up to his lips, the coldness of the bitter liquid a straight shock to his system. He spat it back into the cup and rolled his eyes – he must have been sitting there a lot longer than he initially thought. It shook him to the core though, how easily the other man affected him – how much Tony wanted, craved, hell – how much he needed. Hiding away from the world came with some downfalls – this one obvious enough. Suppression didn’t change the facts.

There wasn’t any use dwelling about it in that moment, however. Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, Tony figured he had 20 more minutes of silence before the sound of little feet barreling down the hallway engulfed the place. The thought brought a smile to his face, Tony very glad to have the distraction of fun times with his beautiful daughter. Especially after last night – a little quality time doing absolutely nothing other than having a good time was exactly what he needed. With that in mind, he got up from his slumped over position and strode further into the kitchen, the intent to make breakfast fresh on his mind.

Like he figured, Morgan sprinted into the room right around the time the bacon finished cooking – her eyes still muggy with sleep, but a soft smile on her face. “It smells good in here,” she eventually said, her bunny still in her hand as she climbed into her usual chair. “Did you do French toast, too?”

The spatula in his hand easily flipped the last couple of pieces of their breakfast while she spoke, his mind a lot clearer than just a few minutes earlier. He looked over at her, the spatula coming up to point in her direction. “Is it really breakfast without French toast?” Tony shot back. Her giggle was everything, a direct shot to the heart. Turning back to the stove, he dumped both pieces onto a plate and turned off the burner. It took a little constructing, but he had a nice-looking plate of cut up French toast pieces and two strips of bacon smothered in warm maple syrup in front of her within a couple of minutes.

“Bon Appetit,” he said with a flourish. Morgan clapped for him, though her eyes were glued to the food in front of her. Placing a kiss on her cheek, Tony walked back over the stove and put together his own plate before joining her. They ate in a companionable silence, which suited Tony just fine. He loved her never-ending commentary on everything – her brain was beautiful and was quickly starting to shape into something he couldn’t wait to see come to life. He also appreciated the times he got to watch her in silence, the way she stuffed several pieces of French toast into her mouth so endearing, despite being silly, too.

She even helped him clear the dishes – which blew him off his feet every time it happened. Tony knew they’d been trying to teach her manners and the rules of the land for the past five years – it was something completely different when the tangible example stood in front of him, her reaction genuine and without hesitation. “How do you feel about the zoo today, sweet pea?” Tony asked her, his hip hitting the dishwasher door to close it all the way.

“The zoo sounds perfect. As long as we can spend some time in the lab later. I want you to show me what you did to the wheels of your car,” Morgan responded immediately, her hands brushing some of the stray hair from her face. Tony couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped from his lips – her determination to beat him so goddamn cute.

Turning, Tony picked her up, his arms wrapping around her tightly. “Alright, that sounds like a deal. How many times should we feed the giraffes?”

A couple of hours later, Tony had a tuckered-out Morgan in his arms, the girl passed out after all the excitement of the zoo. Since they were up so early, they caught all of the animals during feeding time. Tony donated frequently to the city zoos, so it didn’t take anything other than mentioning of who he was to get them a little closer. As usual, the elephants and giraffes were a favorite amongst the two – Tony hoped the photographer at the exhibit got the big animal licking Morgan’s face, the whole scene absolutely priceless.

It was mutually decided to vacate the premises when the sun started to make the day really hot – the place was starting to get crowded, anyway. Walking back from the elephant exhibit, Morgan asked to climb into his arms and promptly fell asleep against his chest. She was growing up so fast – each week between visits making it seem like he missed so much of her life, of the beautiful process of watching her grow. Moments like this were ones he felt determined to cherish. He managed to get her back to the car and into the seat without waking her up – something he didn’t often accomplish. Her sleeping habits matched his in a lot of ways, being a light sleeper amongst them.

He knew she was tired when Morgan didn’t protest against the nap he suggested when they walked into the house. She simply grabbed her bunny and settled into the makeshift bed on the couch. Sitting down next to her, Tony stroked her hair while she slept for another hour – Amazing World of Gumball providing him comfort while the princess snoozed.

The total wind down brought energy back with a vengeance, though – the second she woke up, the rest of the day moved by in a whirlwind. They snacked on hot dogs and mac and cheese before tucking into the small area he made for her in his lab – all of the tools safe for the young girl to actually handle. Tony took apart his blue hot wheel car and showed her the modifications – her eyes roaming over everything his pointed to, her entire being focused on his words. When they made the same modifications to her car, she looked up at him triumphantly, a smirk on her lips. “Now I’m really going to beat you, daddy.”

And she did – a couple times, actually. The little dance she made up to rub the fact in his face made the couple extra modifications he made while she wasn’t looking worth it. Maybe letting her win every now and again wasn’t too terrible, especially when she learned so much throughout the process. He got to listen to her talk about her win the entire time they ate the pizza he ordered and well into the rest of the night, her mind still there when he settled her under the covers – his own fatigue wearing his patience down a little bit.

Tucking her in, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, a chuckle leaving his lips. “If you don’t stop rubbing it in, I’m not going to want to challenge you to a rematch tomorrow,” Tony whispered to her, his tone conspiratorial, like he was sharing a secret with her. “You have to go to sleep right now, or we’ll never know who the best winner out of three is.”

The soft gasp that escaped her lips almost cracked the serious façade – her worry tangible in how still she got on the bed, in how fast her little eyelids closed, the typical faking sleep thing coming into play. Rolling his eyes, he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Sleep for real, okay? We’re gonna see if Uncle Happy has gotten any better at driving his go-cart since the last time.” He swiped his thumb against her cheek bone, a soft smile on his face. “Love you, peanut.”

Morgan turned her head and pressed a kiss against the hand still near her cheek. “I love you 3000, daddy.” Her response was immediate, the words always a kick right in the heart – making him melt just a tiny bit more.

When he peeked in on her later, he grinned at the way she was completely passed out, her bunny on the floor by the head of the bed. He picked it up and placed it within her reach – there’d been a time when she couldn’t do a damn thing without that stupid bunny. Shaking his head, he took one more glance at the small human he’d been gifted before walking out and heading to his own room.

Exhaustion took him under quickly again, the dreams so far from his mind throughout the day, he didn’t think about what a second night worth of them might be like. The desperation and neediness in his mind was manifesting into something Tony couldn’t control and for the most part, didn’t really want to, either. At least in his dreams, he could be himself – enjoy the hell out of the things he didn’t often let himself have. Things that – with each passing night and each sexier dream, he didn’t want to stop himself from having any longer, either.

Soon enough, Tony was taking Morgan into school on Monday morning, their epic weekend elongated a couple days because Pepper and Steve got caught in a storm that delayed their flight. The idea of getting a couple extra days with her daddy had Morgan running around the room, her hands clapping loudly. To stop the noise, Tony reminded her that she still needed to go to school and their weekend time would not extend into the week – he knew Pepper’s routine was strict and planned to keep to it.

Dropping Morgan off came with the extra perk of running into the gorgeous Peter, the young teacher in grey slacks and a navy-blue polo when Tony encountered him that first day of the week. Morgan didn’t bother sticking around, there were already a group of four other kids looking in her direction expectantly. Making a soft noise of hurt, Tony turned to walk out of the room when a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Stark – I’m surprised to see you again so soon,” Peter said, his long legs putting him in front of Tony before he could even process the words. His eyes betrayed him, the muscles firing to move them back and forth, the miles of the younger man’s skin being unconsciously catalogued. Blushing, Tony tore his gaze away for a second.

The long locks of Morgan’s hair over Peter’s shoulder calmed him immediately, his focus returning back to the gorgeous man after a moment. “Her mom is still out of town – so I’ve got her for the next couple of days. The extra time is greatly appreciated,” Tony replied, his cheeks slipping into a smile on their own. “It’s nice to see you again.”

The words were out before he could siphon them through the filter, yet – he could see Peter’s cheeks spread into a smile on their own, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling. How in the world did someone look that stunning? He shifted a little, trying to lessen the pressure of the building heat within him. Another person never affected him like this – especially with just a smile and a look.

“It’s nice to see you again, too. Morgan loves her mother; you can totally tell. The way she feels about you, though – it’s something else. The way you are with her is – it’s nice. Really nice,” Peter stuttered out the last couple of words, his cheeks taking on a scarlet blush. It was an endearing color, the red coordinating well with the darkness of his hair and the smooth pale skin encasing it.

The pressure he’d been trying to relieve built some more, his insides feeling like they were on the verge of explosion.

“She’s a miniature version of myself. That’s hard not to love,” he got out immediately, his eyes breaking from Peter’s to look over his shoulder again. All of the kids waiting at the door for her were gathered in a circle around her, the girl’s hands gesturing wildly as she told them a story. Probably the one about their race on Sunday where her car slid past the finish line a couple milliseconds before Tony’s did.  Glancing back, he noticed Peter’s smile softened, face still covered in that delicious blush.

“She’s also the coolest person on the planet. But I know you already know that.”

They both laughed at that, the truth of it pretty undeniable. Peter shook his head, the obvious attempt to clear it making the longer hair on the front of his head fall into his eyes – the look of it even more stunning – disheveled looked good on the young teacher. The look they shared went on a little longer than should have been appropriate, a little arm grabbing Peter’s leg the only thing that brought both of them out of the haze. Tony sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide for a second.

He’d been so comfortable trapped in the fog of shared connection – for the first time in his entire life, Tony didn’t feel ashamed by the fact that another man was the reason for the big smile on his face. That thought was scary and sent him in the other direction quickly. “I’ll get out of your hair. Have a nice day, Peter,” Tony offered, his feet already carrying him out the door.

----

Fortunately for both Tony and Morgan, Pepper and Steve remained stuck in Florida for the rest of the week – which meant they got to hangout after school every day. It didn’t hurt, either, the fact that Tony got to drop her off and pick her up – each time he did, his interactions with Peter got better and better, the man interesting and seemingly interested in Tony, too.

Rolling into Friday, Tony was excited to head into the weekend – they were planning on heading to Central Park the next day, Morgan excited to see all of the puppies and run around the green, green grass. Her enjoyment of the little things never ceased to amaze him. Regardless, he felt great, his daughter’s presence a huge part of that. A very, very huge part of that.

Waking up to take care of her before school made the day start on a good note – the time between dropping her off and picking her up, Tony let himself obsess over the work on his desk in the lab. The act of stepping out and doing something else broke up his concentration and made leaving the lab so much easier. It seemed crazy, how much a couple extra days with his favorite person could change things up for him.

And, okay – Tony had to admit that being open in his flirting with Peter during their brief conversations felt pretty good, too. For whatever reason, the man made him feel like he could be himself – like the fact that he smiled too big and looked too long wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, Tony could swear he found Peter glancing at him, staring when he thought Tony wasn’t paying direct attention. He always made sure to stop and talk to Tony when he came to pick Morgan up, his cheeks stained with a now recognizable (and stupidly attractive) flush.

It was so obvious that Tony found himself speechless when Morgan practically shouted – “I think Mr. Peter likes you, daddy,” from the back of the car on the way home Thursday afternoon. Like many things with Morgan, the bluntness of her actions felt like a punch to the gut. A needed one, maybe – but a punch to the gut, nonetheless. He glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, the little girl’s attention never straying from the bunny in her hands, despite the words coming from her mouth.

She turned out to be right, though – Peter caught his eye before Morgan did when he went to pick her up on Friday. Tony watched delicately long legs bring Peter towards him, that smile he liked so much plastered on the other man’s face. “Hey, Tony,” he started, a determined look on his face. “It’s probably a little unorthodox – me just coming up to you like this. But uh – I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me, uhm – this weekend?” The way he sputtered through the question made Tony’s heart quake, the muscle working overtime in the moment.

Smiling wide, Tony could do nothing other than nod – his throat a little tight from the range of emotions running through him. Most of the exchanges he had with men in the past happened in the darkness of night, not in the middle of a kindergarten classroom. He couldn’t find it in him to be mad about it, though – this felt much more right, more wholesome and real. Like maybe, if he went about things the right way, it could be more than just once – that concept so foreign to Tony, so different than the settling he’d done in the past.

“Yes – I would like that very much. I have Morgan all weekend, though – she’ll have to tag along,” Tony replied – he wasn’t going to feel bad about including the girl, they’d probably have a great time simply because she was there, anyway.

Peter didn’t bat an eye; his smile grew at the mention of Morgan – the man had an obvious soft spot for her. “I already figured. I thought maybe we could go to the park, or something. I usually spend Saturday morning out and about with Gracey, my dog.” His smile was huge, the prospect of spending time with him and Morgan something that seemed to truly make him happy.

Tony’s eyes lit up at the mention of a dog, his heart skipping another beat – the entire situation got better and better as the seconds past. “A dog? Oh, squirt is going to shit her pants. I can’t wait to see that,” Tony said nonchalantly, his eyes sparkling. “We were going to go to Central Park – is that a fine enough establishment for the lovely Gracey?”

Morgan ran towards them as they spoke, her light up shoes flashing with each step. Her arms reached up, the universal signal to be picked up. Leaning down, Tony swept her up, her small frame tucking against his side easily. He reminded himself to soak in the moments like this one, the smallness she had now wouldn’t stick around forever. He bit down on his tongue to chase that thought away – things were going well; it’d be stupid to bog them down with stuff that didn’t matter.  

“Central Park sounds great. Is 9 too early for you guys?” Peter looked between the two of them, the man obviously including Morgan in the decision, too.

“Morgan, Peter is going to join us for our walk through Central Park tomorrow with his doggie Gracey, does that sound okay to you? Is 9 too early?” He bounced her on his hip slightly, the movement making her giggle.

“Yes, daddy. That sounds like fun. Mr. Peter, will I be able to play with your dog?” Morgan asked innocently, her head tilted in curiosity – her mind spinning like a pinwheel, the girl so much like her daddy.

A soft laugh left the other man’s chest, his lips tugging into that patented smile. “Gracey loves new friends, she’ll be excited to make one out of you, Morgan,” Peter replied softly. “I even think she’ll let you walk her if you’re extra good.”

Morgan’s face became serious after that, her jaw set in child-like resolve. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise,” she said, holding out a pinkie between them. She waited patiently, a smile on her face the entire time.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” the other joked, his pinky flying out to join Morgan’s in the pinky swear handshake she’d taken to doing. He even knew to press his thumb against hers so they could stamp it – the promise now made and not able to be broken.

Shaking his head at the two of them, Tony used his free hand to reach into his pocket to grab a business card. Their fingers grazed when he handed it over, a smirk on Tony’s face. In that moment, he felt confident – happy with the way things were going for once. “Text me later, we’ll figure out somewhere to meet.” Tony didn’t say he wanted Peter to have his number just in case he wanted to talk, or for emergencies – little things like that.

Tony watched Peter pocket the card, a satisfied feeling settling in his chest. Looking up at Morgan, he used his fingers to tickle her stomach – the action never failing to get the exact reaction he was looking for. Her laugh brought him pure joy and always would. “Tell Mr. Peter we’ll see him tomorrow,” Tony prodded, the two men sharing a look when she turned her head towards him, the promise she made obviously still fresh in her mind.

“See you tomorrow. I can’t wait to meet Gracey,” Morgan added, her smile cheeky – the trademark Stark smirk slowly starting to slip into her repertoire. “Can we go now, daddy?” Her words sounded familiar, Tony heard them every day this week, his flirtations with Peter digging into her social life, apparently.

Chuckling, Tony pressed a kiss to her cheek, any irritation he felt melting the second it entered his brain. She was too damn cute for her own good – the damn kid had him wrapped around her finger. “Sure thing, squirt. See you tomorrow, Peter,” Tony said, his eyes meeting the others for a few seconds, the gaze warm and a little heated – their promise not coming in the form of a pinky swear.

It didn’t take much for either of the Stark’s to get moving the next morning. Partly because Tony promised donuts for breakfast if Morgan didn’t give him any hassle at bedtime – which she did not – not a single bit of it whatsoever. He knew her sugar high later in the day would kick his ass, yet – the idea of watching her bounce off the walls made his heart race a little. Having fun was easy with the little girl around, even if it meant that fun came from watching the little girl enjoy herself.

At the donut shop, they stood with their noses pressed against the glass, each trying to decide what the best selection would be. “Do you think Mr. Peter is a glazed guy? Or a filled donut type? Or should we just get a bunch of different ones and cross our fingers?” Tony asked her idly, the little girl looking up at him with a shrug.

“You should just get one of everything. Especially that big chocolate one back there,” answered, her eyes glued to the biggest donut in the case. Shaking his head, Tony followed her advice and grabbed one of everything. Between that a chocolate milk and the two coffees, they were pretty much set.

He let Morgan run in front of him when they got closer to the park – they’d been there enough for the girl to know where they were and to be aware of where he was. She didn’t seem to think it prudent to stray too far, anyway – she came babbling back to him every few steps with the next observation. It went on until they finally got to the point where they were meeting Peter, the younger man already standing there with a gorgeous blue bull terrier, the dog already straining at the leash as they approached.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony greeted, his hand already moving to hold the cupholder out between them. “Morgan got this crazy chocolate donut, but there’s a ton of other sugary goodness in there, if you’re interested. Cream and sugar, too,” he let Peter take the second coffee, then held the bag up. Peter took the coffee and most of the cream and sugar – his face sheepish for a second before going all in. Tony grinned at that, his taste for black coffee never coming in handy more. Tony got the bag back with a plain glazed donut missing and a soft smile.

“Thank you, Starks. You guys are clutch – I was just telling Gracey how hungry I was,” Peter started, his words cut up a little by the bits of donut he was chewing in his mouth. Tony watched transfixed, the human in front of him getting cooler by the second. “We did our morning jog around the park already, so she’ll be ready for a casual stroll now.”

Looking at him, Tony could see running shoes on his feet and long joggers – they sat delectably on the man’s ass, the fabric just on the right side of tight. It took him a second to pull his gaze away and when he did, he took a couple of clearing breaths, each one only slightly loosening the clench in his chest. “Sounds like you’ve had a productive morning. Want to walk a little and find a place to sit down? Morgan is practically bursting at the seams to pet Gracey – who is absolutely beautiful, by the way.”

The smile back at him had the clenching tightness in his chest coming back – Tony realizing in that instant that it was just Peter making him feel that way. The feeling was foreign, something that shouldn’t make sense or feel the way it did – at the same time, Tony felt himself giving into that clench with every second that passed. Maybe this is what it felt like to actually like someone – to feel nervous and apprehensive and elated to freely be enjoying every second.

Tony returned the glowing grin with one of his own – his heart stammering in his chest in the best of ways.

“I’m surprised they haven’t jumped each other yet, to be honest. Gracey isn’t usually all that patient. I like your idea, though – I saw another donut in that bag I might like to try, too,” Peter spoke in such a calm way, his demeanor relaxed, the other man seemingly lacking the nerves coursing through Tony.

They set a slow pace, both Morgan and Gracey way out ahead of them, the little girl trying to bend down and pet the dog’s flank every few steps. When they passed a trash can, Tony threw away the drink carrier with his now empty coffee – the freedom of his hands something he appreciated when he and Peter started to drift a little closer. “Tell me a bit about yourself,” Tony murmured after a while. The silence between them was nice, but Tony was interested – he figured there was more beyond the surface of the man standing next to him.

Peter stayed silent for a couple of minutes, the man obviously formulating his answer. From the beginning, Tony noticed that Peter didn’t jump into anything, he thought about his words and delivered them with meaning. Tony forced himself to be patient and wait to hear what the other man said – his natural instinct to ask another question becoming easier to tamper down with every single exposure to Peter. He let his arm swing between them, instead, his attention slipping between their matching steps and the slight brush of Peter’s hand against his own as they took them.

“When I’m not Mr. Peter, I create code for websites and watch an abundance of Bob’s Burgers. I grew up in Queen’s, so New York has always been home for me. Gracey and I have been living that single life together for about four years now- oh, and I’m deathly allergic to honey,” Peter finally replied, his head turning ever couple of words to catch Tony’s eyes as he spoke. “What about you, Tony Stark? What makes you tick?” the words were low and accompanied by a head tilt towards a bench a few feet ahead of them.

There wasn’t a lot of room on the bench, so they needed to sit pretty close to each other – which, for Tony, felt like a precious gift. Their shoulders settled together, the warmth radiating against Tony’s right side absolutely staggering – everything about Peter felt that way. Watching Morgan for a second, he saw her and Gracey getting to know each other – the easy way the dog let her in and started to play meant they’d have at least a few minutes of distraction.

With the donuts between them, Tony let his free hand run along the length of the bench, his fingers just a few inches shy of ending up on Peter’s shoulder. He relaxed into the seat, the general goodness of the scene too good not to enjoy. “To be honest with you, I’m kind of a boring guy. I spend way too much time in my lab, which is completely covered in nanotech at the moment, so there’s many hours to be wasted. I like old rock music and great whiskey. And Morgan. Being her dad is one of the best bits of me,” he turned then, catching eyes with Peter. The man shifted a bit while Tony spoke, his knee now pulled up onto the bench.

He looked at Tony with such an open expression, his entire body seemingly willing to take in all the facts thrown his way. With a quick breath, Tony let his biggest shame slip from his lips – the idea of having someone understand him making it easier than it should have been. “I’ve also been closeted for most of my life – so there’s a lot about me that I don’t really know about.” He felt his face color as the words sounded between them – an embarrassment embracing him simply because he admitted something like that.

A knee hitting his thigh was not the reaction he expected – though, Peter wasn’t at all what he expected, either – so maybe he should get used to that feeling. Shifting a bit, Tony let Peter’s knee press a little more firmly into his thigh – the touch comforting, despite the mortification running through him from his little confession.

“None of that sounded boring. Especially the nanotech. You may need to show me that sometime soon,” Peter started, his body moving until the arm Tony had around the back of the bench could easily fit around his shoulders. There wasn’t any expectation in the move, just reassurance of understanding, a silent confirmation that Peter did in fact get what Tony was going through. “Are you going to stay there?” The unspoken ‘in the closet’ wasn’t missed, its implication as clear as the attraction between them.

With Peter so close, Tony gave in a little, his fingertips trailing along the edge of Peter’s shoulder, the touch barely there. Thinking about it, Tony knew that he couldn’t – stay in the closet. Not any longer. Not after taking several years from another human’s life, just to keep a secret that, for all intents and purposes, didn’t mean shit to anyone but himself and himself alone. So many things warred inside of him, but he knew he wasn’t – not when there were so many parts of life he missed out on already.

“No – definitely not. It’s kind of a lonely place. One I don’t think I really need to be in any longer,” Tony said, finality and determination in his voice. He didn’t want to run down the street shouting about his love for cock, he might never get to that level, but he liked being out with Peter – he enjoyed the casualty of being with someone that made him feel good. And if Morgan taught him anything in the last few days, it was that he deserved to be happy – things in life went a lot better when a resounding feeling of joy overtook the dread of always being tucked away.

Peter’s free hand patted his thigh softly, his shoulder pressing into Tony’s side. “Good, the grass is definitely greener on the other side,” he said softly. Tony felt himself smile, the hand on the bench closing the last few inches and wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him close. Green on the other side, indeed.

The rest of the morning went by in a haze of laughter, too much sugar, and the constant babble of one Morgan Stark. They walked around the park for another hour or so – Morgan’s sugar rush hitting right around the time Peter offered to let her walk Gracey. By the time they were walking back towards their cars, Morgan was walking sluggishly with the equally tired dog – Peter and Tony sharing a grin over their heads. “Do you want to come back to ours? I can get these two set up with some lunch and a place to crash for a little while,” Tony asked, the hilarity of how close they actually parked by each other wearing off when they collected to say goodbye.

Tony wasn’t ready for the day to end – and by the way Morgan kept herself close to Gracey’s lead, she wasn’t ready for it to end, either. Like they were running on the same wavelength, Tony and Morgan both looked over at Peter with puppy dog eyes – the Stark looks working in more ways than one.

It seemed like they managed to melt him in his tracks, Peter’s face softened, and a hearty laugh fell from his lips. “You two are going to be quite the pair, aren’t you?” He shook his head, his smile growing. “I don’t have anything else planned for the day, so I’m down. As long as you give me lunch, too. Six donuts aren’t even close to being enough,” Peter rubbed his stomach, his eyebrows arching.

The possibility of spontaneously combusting washed over him for a second, his face heating up, cheeks burning with a certain sort of fire. What in the actual fuck was happening to him? Biting down on his lip, Tony reined himself in, his head nodding. “You got it, dude,” Tony responded, his hand reaching down to grab Morgan’s, her face once again happy now that her time with Gracey wasn’t coming to an end yet. “I’ll send you the address, but we’re going straight back – if you want to follow.”

After getting Morgan into the seat and onto the road, Tony turned the AC/DC they’d been jamming to early down and looked over his shoulder. “How was that? Seems like you had a lot of fun with Gracey,” Tony remarked, his lips tugging into a soft grin.

“Gracey is my new best friend, daddy. Peter said he had a ball for her in his car. Can we play with it back at the house? I’ll try not to break anything,” Morgan’s words came out in one clump, her excitement and inability to control it spilling out all over the place. Her feet were kicking, and the bunny was back in her arms.

He snorted, his hand clenching around the steering wheel to stop himself from laughing outright – there was no denying that she was his child. “As long as you try not to break anything. You can go into the big guest room without the bed – you guys can run around all you want in there.” Keeping his eyes on the wheel, he reached back to pat her knee lightly. “Glad you had fun, pumpkin.”

A while later, Tony and Peter were tucked onto the couch in the Stark living room, the race car track now put away (and by that, he meant fully functional in one of the other guest rooms) to give a clear view of the tv once again. Peter’s surprisingly good cooking skills came in handy when they made fresh tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Watching Peter show Morgan how to crunch up Goldfish into her soup made his heart skip a couple of beats – and any delusion of not being totally smitten with Peter was out the window. His kid meant the world to him, the simple fact that she didn’t miss a beat with Peter around spoke volumes.

Morgan and Gracey were snuggled up together on the floor of the little girl’s room. The excitement of the morning and purposeful heartiness of the meal had her down for the count pretty quickly – the dog following her not long after that. Which left Peter and Tony with the illusion of some time alone together. Tony put on one of the movies within reach, which turned out to be Wreck It Ralph, and joined the other on the couch. A part of him hoped the choice of movie wouldn’t matter – there were other, better things they could be doing.

Other than the little chuckle when the menu popped up, Peter said nothing about what flashed across the tv screen. Tony settled into the couch the same way he did earlier on the bench, with his arm across the back of the chair. Peter didn’t beat around the bush, though – he settled into the warmth of Tony’s side, the intoxicating smell of his curly locks apparent now that they were so close. With a soft breath, Tony wrapped his arm around Peter, his lips pressing against his forehead.

“Thanks for hanging out today. I haven’t had this much fun in a while,” Tony whispered, his lips still pressed against Peter’s skin. And that was the total truth – Tony couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed himself so much – when his happiness did not depend solely on Morgan and how she was feeling. In a moment of clarity, he thought about how much pressure that was for such a young kid. Well, then.

Shaking his head, he pulled a little until Peter was pressed flush against his chest – his enjoyment of the non-sexual connection something new and exciting. He recalled the word intimacy and wondered if that’s what he was experiencing in that very moment. A hand came up to cup his cheek, Peter shifting until he could see Tony over his shoulder.

“Thanks for having me. You seem to be a very good man, Tony Stark,” Peter said in answer a couple minutes later, the two of them trying to soak up the closeness – Tony desperate for whatever he could get of it.

Though the angle was weird, Tony leaned forward and pressed his lips against Peter’s, the hand on his cheek grasping a little tighter. Peter responded to him immediately, his lips melding to Tony’s in a way that sucked the oxygen right from him. Pulling away slowly, Tony blinked his eyes open – the world looking a little bit different when he did. He never believed all the cliché bull shit about love at first sight, but there was something about this feeling – Tony might find himself becoming a believer, after all.

Peter’s smile had him pressing in again, the touch chaste – just enough for Tony to remember the feeling, the more exposure he got, the better the memory would be. The other man tried to turn in his arms, but the patter of little feet on the floor outside of the room stopped him. If this were any other time, he would have jumped off the couch – guilt written in his expression. Instead, Tony and Peter shifted a little until they were merely sitting next to each other – the older man’s arm draped casually along the back of the couch.

The click of nails followed the noisy footsteps and soon they were joined by Morgan and Gracey – the little girl settling herself on Tony’s lap. She looked between the two of them and then back at the screen – her brown eyes wide. “You’re not supposed to watch Ralph without me, daddy. You too, Peter,” she sounded exasperated – like they were really testing her patience.

By the end of the movie, both Morgan and Peter were passed out against him, the soft snores fluttering the sleeve of his shirt making it hard to move. He shifted a little, intent on putting Morgan to bed for a little while longer and letting Peter sleep his nap out.

The second he moved, though, Peter blinked awake, the sleepiness so apparent on his face utterly adorable. “Damn, I missed the end. I love the Mentos volcano he makes,” Peter mumbled, his body shifting to sit up, the heat of it against Tony’s side immediately missed. “I should probably get going. I have twenty construction paper projects I need to cut out before Monday.”

Tony grinned, the normalcy that Peter treated him with the best of the new feelings he’d been experiencing. Peter was somebody he could merely share life with – the idea a little dizzying. He held up a finger and got up off the couch. “Let me get Morgan into bed and I’ll walk you out.”

It didn’t take long to get Morgan tucked into her bed, the movie she’d been watching earlier started over, so he lowered the volume and walked back out into the living room. Peter was squatted down next to Gracey, his hands running over her head. He straightened up when he noticed Tony coming back into the room, the look on his face soft.

“Thanks again, Tony. I had an amazing time.” Peter took the last few steps to narrow the distance between them, one of his arms wrapping around Tony’s shoulders.

Following suit, Tony got both his arms around Peter’s waist and pulled him closer, their lips finding each other without much thought. Though he craved a deeper toucher, Tony kept the pass of their lips stay tame, teasing – just on the right side of intimate. When he pulled away, Tony leaned his forehead against Peter’s for a second, a long breath being drawn into his lungs.

“Me too. Can we do it again? I’ll be back on my own during the week, I’d love to take you out.” Tony’s words sounded confident, but nervousness ran through him – no matter how often he’d done this with women, it was completely different with a man, this man particularly. He felt a little out of his depth, and ultimately – scared out of his fucking mind. An answer came in the way of long fingers running through his hair and a gooey smile, Peter’s eyes gleaming.

----

And so it went for a while. Morgan went home the very next morning, Pepper was grateful and offered to let him pick her up a little more often from school – to which Tony readily agreed. Spending all of his time with her this week made Tony realize just how much he missed her, how important making sure he was there actually was to him. No more missing Friday afternoon pick-ups – no matter how cool the shit in the lab ended up being. Before she left, Pepper pressed a kiss to his cheek – her voice soft when she spoke. “You look happier. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

He knew he didn’t need permission from her, but it felt a lot better to open his life to Peter with Pepper’s insistence that he allowed himself to be happy. In the 10 years they’d been together, Tony talked to Pepper about his true wants and feelings a grand total of two times. She never judged and gave him more than any sound human probably would have. Maybe that’s why it felt so monumental – her blessing, because out of all the people in his life, she knew the one piece of him he never wanted to share before. It didn’t color her opinion of him one bit.

Getting back into the flow of dating didn’t take any work at all – with Peter by his side, it felt like he’d known the man for most of his life. He was easy to talk to, fun to be around, and filled to the brim with ideas and wants. Every time they spoke, it felt like he learned something new and for a person like Tony, that was quite the feat. Their knowledge base and experiences were vastly different – but the ability to give and take was not. Tony hung on every one of Peter’s words, simply because wanted to and he knew Peter did the same when he spoke.

Their dates started out small, little places that wouldn’t attract much attention, despite the fact that Tony Stark was there and buying their food. It’d been a while since his divorce from Pepper, so the media attention seemed to have dulled considerably. Though there was no anonymity, Tony didn’t have to hide Peter too much. He was ready to take the necessary steps to be in a relationship, to let the world in on a little piece of him he’d been keeping to himself – he just wanted it to happen on his own terms.

When Tony wasn’t feeling adventurous and wanted to spend quality time with Peter, they camped out in the penthouse and cooked together, or ordered from the little Thai place the younger man preferred. In the bubble of elegant simplicity, Tony flourished. It was easy to be with Peter, to function around another human that was not only a good person, but one he found himself undeniable attracted to. The happiness he felt was the pure kind – the stuff he didn’t think he’d ever allow himself.

On the days Tony had Morgan, they went out and did some of the adventures that Peter always talked about. Morgan and Gracey were the best of friends by that point – the girls were always together whenever Peter graced them with the dog’s presence. There were many Friday evenings spent in the living room of the Stark residence with Morgan and Gracey cuddled together in the little sleeping bag, fast asleep. He always felt the best when they were all together – Peter was the perfect person to oppose his laid-back way of parenting and adored Morgan almost as much as he did.

They jumped the Pepper hurdle one Sunday when she walked in to pick up Morgan. Tony and Peter were still sitting at the small table in the kitchen, coffee cups in their hands. The little girl barreled into the room with fresh teeth and a bow they managed to wrangle into her hair just moments earlier. “Hi, mommy,” Morgan greeted her, the little voice breaking the silence.

Pepper leaned down and said something to Morgan, the little girl nodding and running back out of the room – the promise of Steve and his iPad more enticing than anything the group of grown-ups had to say.

“So, you’re the Peter she’s always mentioning. It all makes sense now. No wonder you like picking her up all of the sudden, Tony,” Pepper pointed out, her hand squeezing Tony’s shoulder lightly. “Her stories are always filled with so much joy. If you’re happy, I’m happy.” She looked between them, then kept her gaze steadily on Tony. “Don’t fuck this up, Stark. He’s one of the best teachers in the city.”

The real challenge came when a picture finally got out with Tony and Peter in a less than innocent encounter – the reality of what they were to each other so very obvious in the snap the photographer was able to get. Pepper sent it to him about an hour before it went public, her plan of action for the news and what might happen attached to the ‘Sorry it happened this way’ that started the message. It was a little gutting, seeing he felt to be so precious out in the open like that – like it was something to be picked apart and discussed. It came with the territory, though – no matter what happened in his life, everyone wanted to catch a glance at it.

“At least they’re not trying to call you a playboy, anymore,” Peter joked when he saw him later, the man’s arms around him, his bony chin digging into Tony’s shoulder. “And it is a nice picture.”

Tony leaned into the embrace, a soft chuckle falling from his lips. It was a nice picture – he begrudgingly had to admit it. They were walking out of Eleven Madison Park, Tony’s arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder, Peter’s arm wrapped around Tony’s waist. Tony’s head was turned, and his lips were pressed to the mess of hair on top of Peter’s head. The smile on his face could be read as nothing other than sheer affection – even love. There wasn’t a single feeling of shame in his body – just a bit of disappointment that he didn’t get to show Peter off in his own way. The speculation about him would be whatever it was – at this point, it didn’t matter.

Spending so many years locked away in a glass case of self-denial felt like punishment enough – he could take whatever the media had to throw his way. The Stark name held up so many things throughout the world, he doubted Tony Stark having a husband instead of a wife would change that too much. “Yeah, it is. I hope you’re ready for this. It’s going to be a circus for a little while.”

Admitting it made the reality of it settle in, the thought of just how much things would change for them for a little while daunting – almost enough to send him back into the dark, tail between his legs. The tight squeeze he got kept him in check, Peter’s voice grounding as it surrounded him. “I think it’ll be alright. They’ll get tired of how boring we are together eventually,” Peter muttered, the words pulling a laugh out of them both.

“Thanks for being here, Peter,” Tony whispered, leaning back into the other’s embrace.

“You couldn’t keep me away.”  

[wolfpawn]

Life is a Game of Risks, Chapter 72 TW  - Mentions of Past abuse

Chapter Summary - Alexianna is in France enjoying the time away but Dan has a few issues he needs to speak about.

TRIGGERS - Past domestic abuse, Past emotional abuse, Past sexual abuse.

Previous Chapter

Tags: @damalseer​ @hiddlesbitch1​ @winterisakiller​ @theoneanna​ @wolfsmom1​

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NOTE This chapter contains references to past abuse

How TF has it been so long since I put up a chapter to this? I am so sorry, the world has gone to hell in a handbasket of late, hasn't it? Sadly, the long hours of sitting at home has done NOTHING for my writing, not helped by having my spawn in the house all day every day.

I'm so sorry, I hope to have more soon.

* So, we all know survivors of abuse deal with their suffering in a multitude of ways, there's no such thing as a set manner to deal with it. Lexi dealt with hers her way, Daniel suffered guilt over it all. Family of abuse victims suffer terrible guilt when they realise what they never noticed, Dan suffers slightly from it in this and references it.

Alexianna sat back and sighed contently on the balcony of the private house they were renting for their holiday. 

“Are you okay?” 

She looked at her brother and smiled. “You need to ask?” “You needed this, both of you did. Well, if we’re honest, Tom looked like he could do with it too but you and Lily needed to actually get away from everything.” 

“Even him?” Alexianna looked at her brother. “You know I can hear that disapproval in your voice recently?”

“That is nothing to do with Tom himself, that is to do with the world he is in,” Daniel clarified. “Look, Al, I love Tom, he is the nicest most caring guy you could ever have found, I genuinely mean that. I am so grateful you and Lily have him and that you are attempting to live again because of him and with him. That you are having a second chance with him but I am not going to lie, the people taking photos of you and Lily, the lack of privacy for you both, for all of us, that is something I am not okay with.” 

Alexianna sighed, she could only nod in agreement. Since they came to France, they had been noticed and though people tried to hide what they were doing when taking photographs, Anna, Daniel and Alexianna were not stupid. It was not as though there were too many pregnant women with blonde, curly-haired daughters who were seen often with Marvel actors so they stood out to those who knew what to look for. If she had been there without Lily, perhaps people would not have noticed her so quickly, but with her daughter, it was impossible to hide who she was. She got a small text from Tom on the matter, warning her that there were people purposely cutting Anna from the pictures and implying that Daniel and Alexianna were there together with Lily and not that in a manner that would suggest them to be brother and sister. It was entirely ridiculous so Alexianna and Anna laughed at it, Daniel was less amused than his sister and fiancée. “That’s understandable.” “How do you deal with it?” “I ignore it for the most part and remember that I work in the field of PR so I know that a lot of it is just to sell clicks or papers. I also know it’s utter lies. I have to separate what they say from us or else I lose him and then have to raise two children without their father for no good reason.”

“Do you feel you are stuck now with another child, having to stay with him because of the baby?” Daniel asked, slightly worried at what she would say. 

“No.” Alexianna inhaled deeply, looking at Anna who was bringing Lily to get an ice-cream not too far away. “The day we found out, I asked Tom to give me some time to myself to think over my choices. I was so sure that I was not ready to do this again but he was so respectful of allowing me to choose and supporting my decision, I never had that before, I don’t think I had that in most of my life. College was not what I wanted, I wanted to do veterinary, I was forced into business. With Jonathan, nothing was my choice, my wedding dress was dictated to me for goodness sake, I was told we were having fruit cake, I could not have Madeira, my pregnancy...he...well.” She looked down at her hands in shame as she recalled how she came to be pregnant with Lily and how it was made clear she would be having the baby, her opinion on the matter not being considered. “Tom let me choose, he gave me that power and when I walked along the street, thinking to myself, the first thing I considered with if I kept it was what would happen if Tom and I did not stick together and I knew that would lead to me being in a similar though not identical position again. Tom would not leave his children to go without so I would have more security there, but I would be juggling raising two children with a man that would, of course, want to be part of their lives which is easier in many respects but so much harder too, not to mention when he would get someone new. I still think about these things, almost every single day but I also think of how I am happy with my choice, I chose this. I wanted this new baby, I was willing to go through it all again, single or otherwise. Making that decision...I can’t describe it, Dan.” She smiled at the thought. “I mean, I question my sanity, that goes without saying, but at the same time, I feel so sure because it’s my decision and mine alone. Tom being on the same page is great, knowing that this is not some act, that he’s not going to change to something different because of this, knowing I don’t need to be scared, it feels so good to know this.” She felt a sense of relief even saying it. “Tom gives me a choice, that was something I stopped even thinking I had. I feel like I have so much power now. I cannot decide what those who write those lies say, that hurts but I can choose how I react and I choose to focus on what really matters, me, Tom, Lily and Bump.” 

Daniel looked at his sister, biting his lips together. He found it hard to listen to her speak about what she had endured before. He did not see her as much as he wanted to at that time. He worked a lot and when he was not working, he was being young and having fun with his college friends, drinking, going on holidays and such. When she had her accident, he had visited her in hospital, of course, but when she told him she was getting married, he was startled. He had not even met her boyfriend, so to hear the first time he would do so was on the week of their wedding was something he thought was odd. 

Alexianna did not seem like a happy bride-to-be when she told him, in fact, she merely sent him a text having rarely even mentioned the man she would be marrying before that in their conversations. When he did meet Jonathon, something always felt off, he could not place it but put it down to the other man not really warming to him. When he got the message that he was to be an uncle, he sent his congratulations and a bouquet of flowers, he never received a reply from her. When she called him to say she had the baby, she cried down the phone and he urged her to tell him what was wrong. He was in Germany on a small weekend break, he grabbed his belongings and rushed back to England. There, he learnt almost everything Alexianna had hidden from him about her marriage and her life until that point or most everything at least. Some of it only became known later, she hid the darkest parts for so long. More than once he wanted to find Jonathan Rice and murder him for what he did to his sister and his niece, he wanted to make him suffer as Alexianna had suffered. Alexianna pointed out that Jonathan never hit her as though her situation could have been worse, Daniel did not have the heart to add to her stresses by telling her that of the things her husband could have done, physical abuse was something less scarring than his chosen abuses, bruises healed, what he did to her scarred her mind. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He all but whispered. 

“I didn’t want to admit to myself how bad it was.” Daniel’s face showed his lack of ability to comprehend what she had said. “I felt that if I said anything, it made it more real.” “What is more real than being in the situation, Al?” 

“Pretending it was not as bad as it was. I used to use the time he was not home to tidy, listen to the radio and act as though it was not too bad. The house was big enough, I didn’t need for anything obvious, I was told more than once how lucky I was that he could afford to keep me and the house with his job, I let myself listen to that and I allowed myself to pretend it was true.” Daniel swallowed. “I should never have let it go that far, I had so many warnings but I was so scared of being alone, I learnt after that being alone is not a bad thing.” “But...Tom…” “Tom adds to my life, Jonathan took from it, there is the difference. When Tom says or does something I am not too happy about, it is not done with the want to hurt me or an utter lack of caring for my opinion but because it is honest. Like when he said he can’t wait for the New York show, it was never that he can’t wait to be away from me and the kids, but because he always wanted to do Broadway. I felt a little sad at first but he clarified and apologised for feeling excited for such when it’s understandable why he would feel it.” “You really are growing back to you, aren’t you?” Daniel smiled. “I got scared we would never see you again. This you, the real one. I will never stop being grateful to Tom for that.” “Hey, I had a bit to play in it too. I went and got the help I needed, Tom just gave me the incentive.” “He didn’t tell you to see if you could get help?”

“No, he threatened to call time on us when I got up my own ass for him buying Lily some cheap toys because I kept moving the boundaries because of my own issues, stemming from Oliver and he didn’t think it was fair, which is a fair statement for him to make, I would think.” 

Daniel knew Lily would be back in a moment and that his chance to speak with Alexianna would be cut short. “I really feel like I haven’t been as good a brother to you since he came along.”

“We both have someone now but we’re still close, not as close as then but that’s okay.” She took his hand in hers. “Dan, you took care of me and Lily so much for so long, you deserve to be able to have your life, it’s not your job to be looking after me. I’m a big girl, I need to have accountability for my actions sooner or later.” 

“So, you’re not mad with me about running off to Scotland?” “No, I am not mad at you for organically meeting the woman that is perfect for you and wanting to have a life with her. Are you insane?” Alexianna scoffed hitting him playfully with the cushion beside her. “What has you worrying about this recently?” “I read a book not too long ago, about how to best look at your life and better everything in it but to do that, you need to look at what you are doing wrong. You came to mind. I went from being there for you to running off and not talking to you for long periods of time because I wanted to spend time with Anna.” 

“But that’s not a bad thing, Dan.” “But it felt like it to me.” Alexianna did not argue any further with him. She knew from her own therapy sessions that something that felt real to her were non-issues for others but that never stopped them feeling real to her, others could very well feel the same. “I’m sorry. I am sorry I left you in London, not making sure you were okay there with Tom and I am so sorry I never protected you from that bastard.” 

Alexianna felt herself become emotional whenever it came to her brother at the best of times, but seeing his eyes well up as he fought back his own tears added to her pregnancy hormones and the topic involved, she began to well up too. “I love you, you silly sausage, you know that and I could not have asked for a better brother, now, stop being such a twat before my daughter sees us sobbing.” She hugged him tightly.

“Sorry.” He pulled her to him. “I just want you to be happy, Al.” “I am. Don’t think otherwise. I am the happiest I have been in my adult life at the moment. If I could get a better job, I would be happier, but I love my work, I love my daughter, my brother and his fiancée, my baby and my partner. I am so happy, please don’t think otherwise. I wish Scotland was closer to London, but it’s still only a few hours up the road.” 

“You keep saying you are coming up.” “I keep planning to, but weather, weather, you taking a few days extra offshore and an unplanned pregnancy all conspired against us.”

They heard the door open. 

“Mummy?” Lily bounded through the house to the balcony where her mother and uncle were talking. “Yes?” “Can I ring Daddy?” “He is doing a matinée show for another half an hour, Sweetheart, you need to wait.” 

“But he’s finished.” She pointed to the clock on the wall. 

“We’re an hour ahead, Princess,” Daniel explained. Lily stared at her uncle with bewilderment. “Different parts of the world are at different times of the day, so it’s nearly three here but only coming up to two o’clock in London.” “Uncle Dan, why are you crying?” Lily wiped a small tear off her uncle’s face. “Did Mummy give out to you for not eating all your vegetables?”

Daniel kissed his niece’s head. “No, Sweetheart. I am just so happy.” “Happy?” “Yes, I am so happy to be here with you, your Mum and Anna.” “And Pip,” Lily informed him. “Who is Pip?” Her mother asked.

“Pip is my name for the baby.” “Pip? Lil’s we have no idea if it is a girl or a boy.” Her mother looked at her in shock. 

“But Daddy and I said we need to give the baby a name and he said Pip was a good name.” 

“That’s going to stick, I just know it,” Alexianna sighed. “I will send Daddy a text and when he is available, he will ring, does that sound good?” 

“Perfect. I am going to eat my crème glacée.” Lily was proud of her correct pronunciation while holding up her ice-cream. 

“You do that, Princess.” Daniel urged her into the other room as Anna came over giving him a concerned look which he dismissed while Alexianna did as she stated she would and texted Tom. 

*

“Hello, Darling. How are you?” 

“I am good, everyone is good, Dan, Anna, Lily and apparently Pip.” 

Tom hissed slightly. “I forgot to mention that to you.” “Yes, you did. Tom, I swear, if this is a boy, I am not calling him Phillip, I really don’t like that name.” “We haven’t even started thinking of names.” Tom pointed out. “We probably should.” “We still have another three months to consider names,” Alexianna stated. 

“But no, Phillip Hiddleston doesn’t sound good,” Tom agreed

“Hiddleston, is it?” Alexianna scoffed. They had discussed that very briefly after dinner with Tom’s father and him saying something about the baby being a Hiddleston legally. At the times, Tom was worried Alexianna would be upset or annoyed with his father’s comment but she was okay with the child having his surname and though they did not formally agree to it being Hiddleston, she did make a comment that would suggest so. “We could have Thomas William Hiddleston Jr?” “God, don’t do that to the poor lad,” Tom laughed. “How are you?” 

“Tired, but loving the sun. How is work?” “Work is good, the play is going as great as ever. I had a few fans today wishing us luck with the baby, actually saying both of us and our daughter, those words, so that made my day.” “That’s good. I’m sorry I am cheating on you.” Tom laughed. “You went very Targaryen it seems.” “I did. God, do they ever stop?” “They are idiots, nothing more.” Tom sat back in his dressing room chair. “How are Dan and Anna about it?” “Weirded out, obviously, but Dan was worried.” “How so? He knows it’s rubbish.”

“Just about Lily and I, he admitted to feeling a little bad about recent strains between us so we had a chat while Lily was getting the ice-cream she needed to take about forty pictures of and ring you about.”

Tom did not know what to say about that. He could sense the tension with Dan before the holiday. He hoped with that aired, everything would be okay going forward. “As long as everyone is happy.” 

Alexianna laughed at his political answer. “I think there was just too much tension that needed releasing.” She sighed. “I wish you were here.” “When I am done in New York, when you are recovered and the baby is a little older, we will take them on a holiday, just the four of us.”

“What about Loki?” “He won’t last forever.” Tom groaned, stretching himself, tired from not sleeping properly while Alexianna was away. “Then it will be us and our children and a little holiday.” “That sounds fun.” 

“So, you better let Lily inform me of her ice-cream since it seems so important as to learn about time-zones for.” “Fine, since I am boring you.” “Nothing of the sort, how is the baby?” “Slight flutters, but no real movements yet. Making me tired. It’s annoying really because I am trying to sort a CV for this place that I found online that is looking for people. I know I would have to admit about the pregnancy but it specifically states it has childcare and how it is more focused on loyal workers so who knows.” 

“The worst they can say is no, right?” Tom smiled at her enthusiasm. 

“Exactly. One moment. Lily?” She called for her daughter. “I heard of them before, they are fairly large in size, so who knows.” There was another voice on Alexianna’s side of the call. “It’s your Dad. Well, you asked to speak with him, not me.” She put the phone to her ear again. “I will talk to you later and let you speak to our loon of a daughter. I love you and I will talk to you later. I just want to sort this out for Insight.” “Insight?” Tom frowned. 

“Yes, the company that I am applying to, it’s one in London called Insight.” 

Tom swallowed as the name and why it resonated with him came to mind as he remembered the unwanted car ride with her father when Oliver told him to have her apply to Insight. He had never mentioned that to her as he knew she would never accept a hand-out, especially from Oliver. He did not know if he should mention it now. 

[txabier-lost-word-balloon]

My Particular Kind of “Lost.”

I. Thou Shalt Not Fear I won’t blame anything or anyone. After all it was a two-step process. It didn’t come all of a sudden as some absurd stories would have us believe, but now age and experience—and pain, yes—have allowed me to understand the chain of events leading to... this. I was a rather gentle and caring child. A tad hyperactive, perhaps; overly curious, for sure, and as many chidlren my age, I was fascinated with dinosaurs. I loved all those saturday matinee movies on TV, and a few times at the hood’s huge if rather dingy movie theater, where Italian technicolor or US black and white creature features allowed me to indulge in my passion for ancestral creatures menat to fascinate as much as terrorize audiences that, I must admit, were far more naive in those days But it was these big lizard movies that lead to other B&W flick form the 30s, 40s & 50s, which I devoured because they were for kiddie consumption. Aliens, ghost. ghouls & mad scientists filled most of my Saturday TV hours, until I was old enough to stay late and found there was another sort of creature feature playing Thursday, Friday & Saturday nights, and that was... an eye-opener to my younger self. Again, age would give me the precise understanding of the way I felt, and the precise word to describe it: I found it liberating.

Yet, I still had to understand why. Sure, by sixth grade I had been runing a long time with my neighborhood kid posse and was liked—as in they found me ‘not rude’—by the girls both back at school and the nearby neighborhoods, but the upper and lower class ones, as well as my well-to-do middleclass one. l was friends with each and everyone of either sisters or cousins to the would-be truants I called my friends, then. At times, I managed to be some girl’s crush, even if it lasted only for a weekend. Yet, even then it was clear I was the one kid who had become a bit weird in what they liked. Be it movies, TV series or that new craze that was Dungeons & Dragons, coming right across the border to the North, and to my older yet still young uncles who travelled far more than I did., and got those books I later grew to inherit. The not so srprising theing about this “craze,” it seemed, it only really appealed to me in the long run for my peers tried it, considered it cool yet still a passing fad, only fit to fool around during those 1983 summer nights. Still, they seemed far more accepting and enthusiatic about my other interest: horror “stuff” be it movies, comics, novels or what scant memorabilia I could get my hands on, All of it, from any era and country. After all, horror was universal and mostly classless. Ever since I was old enough to earn a few coins for honest toil, I used my money to buy my Revell/Monogram plastic monster bootleg figures (I couldn’t afford resins kits, which were quite rare and very pricey imports), so I had to male do. You know, I’m talking about those cheap knockoff a Mexican boy could get from certain supermarkets or at the “children party fodder” stores, or the itinerant weekly market that visited on Saturdays and set in the frontier between our collective neighborhoods, well three of them, at the foot of the hill where we lived. I remember going there with Mom and Grandma, helping them carry the bags full of produce, and managing to buy some figure or another, as long as it was patently meant to be a monster of some sort. When I grew up a bit more, the 1/8th knock of figures became fully licensed 1/72 miniatures (historical all of them,) and by the time I was fourteen years old, I was also trading cheap knockoff action figures and minitures, to get even more tapes form the local video rental stores. I soon grew to be a known “videohunter,” always on the look for those movies not as popular withe the weekend crowds or had never been rented because no one found their lurid package images appealing. You need to understand shelf space was at premium and the employees needed it to showcase movies everybody wanted and were renting like pancakes. Blockbuster and its seemingly endless selection was still a few year away in the future, and the number of copies was very limited at the usually Ma&Pa video rental stores. Anyway, the point is it was around that time when I began to become “the horror archivisit” among friends, peers and store staff, and while our parents told my brothers and me to never use or accept nicknames and always insist people called us by our names, I secretly loved the sobriquet. Little did any of us know it would be the first step into me becoming what I am today. But back then, I really had no idea that what I liked to share with other kids was considered “cool” to my face, but “freaky and creepy” behind my back, and that the reputation spread, like would at times ignite like gunpowder fire. Several moms looked at me with a strange mix of mild disdain and bewildered fascination, whne they took the time to meet me wheneever I was invited to their homes or introduced at school or in some supermarket or video store isle. It was as if they expected me to be this feral geek who had their children talking about tombs and crypts, or the difference between zombies and revenants, reading authors other than Poe, Quiroga or King; of Japanese folk horror tales called “kaidan,” about how bad The Neverending Story movie was compared to Michael Ende’s novel. I might have come across as “very strange” when someone else described me to their parents, but back then I was uncertain why as I was very much the same as their kids, only with a different set of posters on my section of our room’s wall. These rarified interests I had, and some of the exaggerated tales made up by my friends at school and church, made the adults think I was a weird showoff trying to scare or gross out their rather more “simple, down-to-Earth” offspring, when all I really did was sharing what I knew and read with my so-called friends, who always came to me asking all these weird questions in the first place. While not ostracized, I was marked at a very young age for who I was. In my eyes, then and now, I was the social boy many adults insisted to classify as the misfit only because, by age 12, he had read both Moby Dick and Dracula, and was going through Poe’s The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym of Nantucket after devouring all of his short stories.Ssomething none of their children was doing at the time, and I’m sure many of them never did nor will ever get to do. Come to think of it, I’m glad most of those exaggerating telltales never got to see my modest collection of Eerie and Creepy magazines, and the rather more sizeable—for a 13 year-old, anyway—horror comic collection I was able to amass by scraping at my uncle’s piles of old magazines, the reading box at the dentist’s office, my maternal granddad’s lower bookshelves and those I had bought at the newpaper stand a 15-minute walk from our house, sitting near the top of the hill our suburb was located in. Why, sometimes I even went into the underveloped sides of the hill, surrounded by rockstrees and brush, only to read my stuff during the afternoon before the light grew too dim to properly see the vignettes on the page; and I made this no secret. Others could find me there and at times, a few chose to join me in my reading. Yes, sure. Now I can understand those mothers’ wary looks, trying to find what was “wrong” with me. I was an avid reader as a kid, eager to share with others, but I read things many of the adults found unfit for younger minds even when my own parents and grandparents emcouraged me to keep on reading (after carefully filtering those works that were indeed nit suited for me at the time.) In retrospect, I cann see how confused they got when after meeting me I turned out to be polite and affable child, yet one totally uncomprehensible to them when compared with their children once theu started asking wierd questions. Even weirder than those their children asked. Anyway, so the story went, well into my adolescence and, at the time, I enjoyed an increased freedom of movement, which not only meant me going to see horror movies at the dingy local theater, but also my making farther trips to larger bookstores or malls with convenience stores with a books section, which opened up yet a wider world of genre literature. One made up of many worlds that appealed to my increasingly specific—and, yes rarified—preferences. My path was beginning to take a very definite shape. But I didn’t know that, yet. Mind, my childhood wasn’t bad or rough, but right at the sudden and painful end of it, the rest of my life turned out to be quite the journey. Pain and all, I wouldn’t change it for anything in this world. Mainly because of the one movie I was going to watch pretty soon; the one I now know would shape more than a few of the things that were to come, evne if I couldn’t realize it then.

Why, i guess no one could, but with age I discovered some prices one can start paying them way too early in our lives and, oftentimes, one does it with an eager, yearning heart. Usually when the shadows grow and nightfall comes, and there’s something creeping inside our blood inextricably mixed into our thoughts, fed by our incipient desires... and in a very specific case with me, the constant presence of a certain mother, who always was fixedly staring at a young boy who thought it was because of his “reading too much horror stuff.”

[cbsmithpks]

Every Parent’s Nightmare

We worry about our children from the day they are born or perhaps even from the day we find out that are we are pregnant. In September of this year, we had the scare of our lives as parents.  After living through this nightmare, I was told by many parents that I should blog about our experience to help raise awareness of the symptoms of joint sepsis in children.

On a typical Thursday evening we thought our 11 year old daughter had the stomach bug that was going around the middle school. She had a fever of 103.4 and was throwing up.  This lasted all of Thursday night and most of the day on Friday. But by Friday evening she felt somewhat better and the fever had dropped to 99.5.  We thought we were out of the woods, but she was up much of Friday night with a fever and throwing up. I even told another mother on Saturday morning that this was the worst virus I had ever seen and I hoped other kids didn’t come down with it. Later Saturday morning, when our daughter tried to get up, she couldn’t walk. She was in severe pain. Even the weight of her leg hanging when we carried her was unbearable. We knew something was wrong. Fortunately for us, our good friend, Maureen is a Pediatric PA. She took a look at her and told us to go to the ER that she thought she had a septic hip.  “A what!!” I exclaimed. How does a perfectly healthy child get sepsis?

We rushed to the ER and were there for over 4 hours.  They did some blood work, an x-ray and we were told she had Transient Synovitis, which is when a viral infection moves into a joint. We were told it isn’t serious and that it will go away on its own. We were sent home with a child still unable to walk and in excruciating pain.  That night things got even worse, she was up all night with a fever, throwing up and in unimaginable pain. In the morning, I called my friend, Maureen. She said she really felt like our daughter had sepsis and that the ER was incorrect. She reached out to our doctor (with whom she works.) He was not on call this particular weekend but lucky for us, he went ahead and met us at his office early on a Sunday morning. Within just a few  minutes, he said, “I am pretty confident that this is a septic hip.” We were admitted to the local hospital where blood test and an ultrasound confirmed the diagnosis.  

While my husband went home for the night to prepare for an oncoming hurricane (we live on a barrier island off the coast of NC,) my daughter and I were taken via a 3.5 hour ambulance ride to University of North Carolina (UNC) Children’s Hospital. We arrived in the middle of the night and within 5 hours of our arrival, I had already met with the Pediatric Team, the Infectious Disease Team, the Orthopedic Team, they had drawn their own labs, done an MRI and our daughter was in pre-op for a joint aspiration.  After that surgery her pain was a bit better due to some pressure being relieved.  That surgery along with the MRI and blood work confirmed the seriousness of her diagnosis and within 2 hours of waking up from the first surgery, she was back in surgery again.  This time they had to open up her hip and go in and clean the infection out of her hip.  A drain pump was inserted to remove the fluid. She was in excruciating pain after this surgery. To say that my heart was breaking for her is an understatement.  She was put on very strong antibiotics while we stressfully awaited the 48 hours for cultures to grow to see if the bacteria was treatable with antibiotics (i.e. that it wasn’t antibiotic resistant.)  She was given an echo-cardiogram to ensure that there had been no damage to the heart. “What!!! This was a possibility?” Another thing to worry about.   Fortunately the results were excellent!  We found out that the bacteria would respond to antibiotic treatment so next we moved into a “wait and see mode” as we waited for the antibiotics to do their thing.

To be considered free of bacteria, blood cultures have to be clean for at least 72 hours. Four days after surgery we had a big scare as the blood culture came back still positive for bacteria.  They were getting her ready for a 3rd surgery when the orthopedic team came in and said that they thought that maybe pulling the pump the prior day could have caused bacteria to backwash into her blood stream and the blood test picked up on that.  So the infectious disease team agreed to wait 24 hours for another blood sample. This was a huge relief as our daughter, who starting to get some relief, was terrified of having this clean-out surgery again as it caused her extreme pain the first time. Fortunately, the orthopedic team was correct and her blood was clean 24 hours later. So now we were 24 hours into our 72 hour wait before she could be considered for discharge. Once her blood was good, she went in for a minor surgery to have a PICC line installed to deliver IV antibiotics for several weeks before she could transition to oral antibiotics. She also started physical therapy to learn to walk with a walker.

She ended up in the hospital for 9 incredibly stressful days. It was difficult for my husband and I to see her in this kind of pain.  We were physically and mental exhausted. We tried to shield her from the seriousness of her condition and it was very difficult to stay positive and not breakdown. I know any parent who has experienced a seriously ill child can relate. It was without a doubt the worst 9 days of my life. I swear that still today when I think about it -  I have PTSD. It makes me almost nauseous.

While at UNC-Children’s Hospital we were educated on the ramifications of not getting timely treatment of sepsis in a joint.  Because the hip is still growing, it is of utmost importance to protect the cartilage. Patients who sustain damage to their cartilage are risking permanent hip joint damage. These patients may require hip replacement later in life if the damage to the cartilage is severe.  There can be complications such as osteomyelitis, bony erosions, damage to the heart and other organs and even death.

Until this, we had no idea that a perfectly healthy, very active, 11-year-old girl could get sepsis in her hip.  Nor did we know how serious and how painful it could be.  Once the antibiotic was working and she was out of immediate danger, we began asking questions about her long-term prognosis as she isn’t the sit around the house and watch TV or read kind of kid.  She is a middle school cheerleader, plans to tryout for the track team, she bikes, surfs, swims, kneeboards and tubes. She never sits still.  The thought of long-term damage, still weighs very heavily on me as I keep thinking --- “was there something else I could have done after the visit to ER with a misdiagnosis?”  In my gut I knew something was wrong.

The delay caused by the misdiagnosis made it day 5 since first symptoms. After 5 days is when one can get into trouble with complications. We won’t know if her growth plate was damaged until we return to UNC Children’s Hospital early next summer. Her orthopedic surgeon feels pretty confident that all will be ok. Once she was in hospital, with the help of the doctors, we had traced back her symptoms.  We learned that her hip hurt her on Wednesday during PE, but she thought she had pulled it in cheer practice and she wanted to cheer at the football game Wednesday night. I also recalled that on Friday, when we thought she had a stomach bug, she mentioned that her leg hurt.  She didn’t say hip.  I chalked it up to a sports injury.  Because for the life of me I couldn’t imagine that fever, throwing up and joint pain could mean a septic joint.  I had never heard of such thing. If it weren’t for our good friend, Maureen, being insistent on this being sepsis, I am not sure what we would have done. I shudder to think of the outcome. 

At this point, I am sure you are all asking “how does a perfectly healthy child end up with sepsis in her hip???” What we learned is that she likely had a cut somewhere on her body and the bacteria got into her blood stream when she came in contact with it. The bacteria was Staphylococcus aureus which is a very common bacteria found everywhere. Typically your body fights it off but for some reason, unknown to the doctors, several thousand perfectly healthy kids a year don’t fight it off and it takes up residence in synovial fluid in a joint area. So we will never know how or where she picked this up or why her body didn’t fight it off. 

While I hope you never have to experience anything like this in your lifetime, I do hope that by writing this article, others can learn more about sepsis in a joint and get quick treatment. While this is not very common (about 5 kids out of every 100,000 kids) it is scary when your kid is one of them. If your child has a fever and has severe joint pain --- shoulder, hip, knee, ankle, elbow or wrist -  it is a medical emergency.  Don’t make light of it. Insists on blood work, x-ray, ultra-sound and be sure to have them seen by a pediatrician, as this is more common in kids than adults. And from what we have learned septic joints are missed quite a bit by general ER docs that are not trained in pediatrics.

Finally, we would like to thank Maureen Young, our awesome Pediatric PA; Dr. Andy Kiluk, who is incredibly gifted at what he does, for rushing to office and giving up his Sunday to ensure that Peyton was diagnosed and transferred to UNC Children’s Hospital where she received exemplary care.  And a HUGE thank you to the following groups at UNC Children’s Hospital (they were wonderful) -  the Pediatric Team, the Orthopedic Team, the Infectious Disease Team, Radiologist, Cardiologist and Physical Therapy. So happy to have such a great resource in North Carolina!

Now..... go hug your kids because I learned that we are not promised a tomorrow. It can all be striped away in the blink of an eye. We were lucky, but it was way way way to close for comfort!!!

[alisamaefawn394]

HELLO and do I have a tale for you. 

On Monday 11th January, my 89 year old nan moved to us from her care home that was RIDDLED with coronavirus. This was after she tested negative twice (a hospital test on the Friday, a test on her way back from a covid-free part of the hospital on that same Monday). That’s two negative tests, right, so naturally we thought she’d be fine to come and live with us. Perfect, fine, all well and good. and because I’m at high risk, we also assumed this would be fine with me which is why we checked twice. 

SKIP TO FRIDAY: My nan is coughing and being kind of sick and continually retching, exhausted and can’t get out of bed, can barely speak. The nurse that came to see her is instantly concerned, so she has a test done. for the next 48+ hours, things just keep getting worse: two sets of paramedics, countless carers and nurses. Then Sunday morning her test comes back positive. She’s seriously ill, and bear in mind she has acute bronchitis, asthma, and one functioning lung (the other is collapsed) so covid will be awful for her. 

The paramedics yesterday morning took her to hospital, hoping they’d admit her to a covid ward so that she could receive the necessary care. After a few hours in a+e, she’s told she’s being discharged. “She’s not ill enough to stay” they said to us, planning on discharging her to us. My parents hadn’t slept in 72 hours from caring for her day and night, we physically couldn’t cope with her coming home, they said they didn’t give a shit essentially and that we just had to cope.

After hours of battles with the hospital, social services, nursing homes, her care home, my uncles, LAWYERS, the care home owner said he wasn’t letting her back in. Ironic considering it was his home that gave her covid in the first place. He was contractually obligated to let her in though, within every law and clause, not to mention she’d payed her fees and he refused to pay her back. Then, the lead carer overrode his decision anyway and let her in after a multidisciplinary action hearing at the hospital where they unanimously agreed that with the circumstances (a weekend, not coping at our house, at risk young person, two teachers who are both stressed and ill and probably have covid too) she was to return to her care home. All well and good, she arrived there last night, albeit looking like a punchbag and a pin cushion, her hands and arms bright purple from their vicious attempts at getting needles into her. The lead carer is complaining. The good news is that she’s in her care home safely, and they should now have enough staff to care for her cine they’ve had 7+ deaths there in the past week from covid. Obviously not a good thing, but now they might now be short staffed and actually able to care for their residents. 

NOW onto the second part of the story. 

Friday, I felt fine. All well and good, I sat and did my work and my normal stuff. Then Saturday I woke up feeling awful, runny nose and cough and constant goosebumps and joint pain and lethargy and temperature changes and a worse cough than normal and a headache and jaw ache, and I felt SHIT. I had a bath and started to feel a bit better, but all of the upset didn’t work. This whole time my heart was going berserk. Sunday this eased a little, less goosebumps, less pain and all, but I had a sore-ish throat. We went to get tested after my nans came back positive. 

Now I have a hamartia, a one fatal flaw, and that is an unreasonable fear of dying in my sleep. Except with me: a heart condition, collagen defect, you name it else, it’s not so unreasonable. So with all of this covid fear, my heart going weird, struggling to breathe, I was so fearful I couldn’t sleep and I was just crying. I don’t know why. My mum eventually came in to my room and slept on the blow up bed. 

This morning I wake up to a missed call from the test and trace, a text and three emails. I’ve tested positive, my mum has too, while my dad is still negative. I’m coughing with a sore throat today, I’m a bit short of breath, and I can’t keep a constant temperature (not that I normally can) but I don’t have a fever. Thankfully, my conditions only meant I was at high risk of catching it in the first place, not of getting it really badly, so touch wood this fact remains and I stay with mild ish symptoms. My mum is just really tired and has a headache, but we aren’t sure if they’re covid related or just from exhaustion. Turns out I shouldn’t have been going to school all of last term, and I’m not surprised really with how easily I caught it: 3 days in contact with my nan who wasn’t even showing any symptoms for a while, and I’m knocked down from it. My lessons have all been cancelled, and I feel just generally shite. I have to isolate essentially until the end of the month. I’m just really scared of the knock this will give the rest of my already shit health. 

And yes, we are preparing to sue the care home owner for gross negligence. So that’s the current state of things. We also have two dogs we can’t leave the house to walk so this is fucking awful. Shit times. Praying that this passes. 

[arazialotis]

Hunters Academy - Introduction

Word Count: Around 2200

Summary: The reader is looking for a way forward in life. A cryptic business card may provide her with a new opportunity at an unconventional school.

This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!

Special thanks and shout out to @misguidedconqueress for reviewing, editing, suggestions, and as always putting up with me.

—–

Your fingers eagerly tore through flimsy envelope, hoping your suspicion would be confirmed. Tossing the envelope aside, the single piece of paper crinkled in your hand as you read:

Your application appears to be promising. Make it to our location by September 31st and consider yourself accepted into the program. If you’re running late; don’t bother showing up at all. Good luck.

The letter was only signed with a black star surrounded by a circle of flames. The all too familiar mark of a hunter. Your mother made you wear a charm throughout your entire childhood. Even after her death when you were ten, you chose to wear it; the bracelet had become a part of you. It wasn’t until your 16th birthday you got it permanently tattooed on the side of your left rib cage. When your foster parents found out, they were furious. They never understood you though, nor your obsessive behaviors when it came to salt, holy water, and silver.

You were forced into psychological testing and tried your best to fake normalcy; to pretend everything was okay, to pretend the things that went bump in the night were just figments of the imagination. But your mom had raised you better. Instead of taking the prescribed pills, you just became better at hiding your secrets; convincing the world you had become cured. You had become so good at hiding you even convinced yourself… for a while.

It had seemed like just a phase. You went off to college to make your foster parents proud. But sophomore year was finishing up and you were running out of general education classes to take in order to avoid settling on a major. It wasn’t until you were spending a weekend back home, rummaging through storage, when you stumbled upon the box you had brought with you when you first arrived. You began pulling out memories; tattered gloves and a small scarf, wings you and your mom had made for a halloween costume, drawings of your mom fighting off monsters that probably were psychoanalyzed up the wazoo, and a small purse you used to collect key cards from your favorite hotels.

But what was most important was her journal. It was bound in brown leather, its corners and pages worn. You flipped open to the page bookmarked by your charm bracelet. Your fingers traced over the ink, almost being able to recall the sound of her scratching down details. She lived on through the words, still finding ways to speak to you. As you flipped through the pages, a plain white business card slipped out. On the front was simply printed “Academy” and the anti-possession symbol. On the back “Send Application” and a PO Box address in Nebraska.

You flipped the card back and forth, confused at the lack of information. You had never noticed it before even though you have flipped through the pages countless of times. Perhaps it was your mother speaking to you now and giving you a way forward. The idea stemming from your college applications, you decided to write an essay. This time including everything. Your mother, your upbringing, your malcontent for the white-picket-fence life, and overall desire to make an impact on the world.

And now, you were holding an acceptance letter. Well, half an acceptance, the full admittance on the condition of finding the school. The letter was just as cryptic as the business card. You picked up the envelope looking for more clues. Where the return address was, was a symbol you were unfamiliar with and it was posted from Kansas. You rubbed your eyes after hours of searching through the web, trying to identify this symbol. Even the established hunting community websites did not seem to have any information posted.

Grabbing another cup of coffee, you flipped through the journal again as it always seemed to have the answers you were searching for. Your attempt to turn on ‘The Wall’ in order to keep you awake was futile, eventually sleep won you over.

The next morning you awoke, filled with dreams of the academy slipping away. In the daze of waking consciousness, you reached to the journal to see where you had left off. In the corner of the page was the unknown symbol. You jolted up immediately. There was no explanation, simply the symbol and coordinates.

Looking up the coordinates, you easily pinpointed the location in Kansas, the nearest town Lebanon. Having no idea what you were in store for, you packed the only the basics into a duffel and walked out of your foster parents’ home with no intention of returning.

—

The drive was long, but you stayed focused with the help from classic rock and gas station snacks. As you drove through Lebanon, your ‘72 red Ford Mustang didn’t stick out as much as it usually did. It seemed things around here didn’t change very often. You stopped at a gas station to grab a map of the area, seeing which road would get you closest to the coordinates.

Having driven up and down a paved road a few times, you stopped at an unmarked dirt road and decided to see if it would lead to your destination. You slowed down as you approached what you could only described as an abandoned factory or warehouse. Leaving your car locked on the side road you went in for a closer look. The door had the same symbol from the letter and journal.

You didn’t let your nerves get the best of you, after knocking three times, you unlatched the door. Stepping in, you were surprised by the immediate drop into what looked like a scene straight out off Dr. Strangelove. A man with sandy brown hair and a bathrobe was making his way up the iron stairs.

“You’re early.” He grumbled.

“Better than late, I suppose.” You greeted him.

“Coffee?” He offered.

“Sounds wonderful.” You followed him through the war room and the library, and into an industrial sized kitchen. He poured both of you a fresh cup. “So, I am assuming I found the right place.”

“Mmhmm.” He mumbled through a sip. “But we weren’t expecting students for at least a few more days.”

A taller man, with long brown hair, walked through the kitchen. “Oh, hello?” He greeted you with surprise.

You shook his hand. “Pleasure to meet you, I’m Y/N by the way.”

“Sam Winchester. And my brother Dean.” He introduced both of them.

“Winchester? Any relation to a John?” You asked.

Both of them exchanged shocked glances. “Our father actually… you knew him?” Dean questioned.

“Yes. Well, not really I suppose… he and my mother hunted together when I was young. So I know him through her journal, not from actual memories.” You explained.

Sam furrowed his brow, analyzing your features. “You’re not Y/N Y/L/N?” Dean perked up from hearing your last name.

“Yes.” You confirmed.

Sam laughed out loud. “I don’t know if you would even remember this, but uh, we’d babysit you sometimes… you could have only been two or three at the time.”

“Yikes, hopefully not too many embarrassing stories you can throw in my face.” You gritted your teeth.

“Not at all,” Sam chuckled. “You were an easy kid and Dean was off at the arcade avoiding any work you caused.”

“Shut up.” Dean chastised. “Nah, I remember. You liked playing with my army guys except what usually started out as an epic battle always turned into house.” Dean snickered. Your cheeks turned red. “How is your mom anyways?”

“Oh um… she actually passed away when I was 10… Or at least I think that’s what happened.” You somberly revealed. “She never came back from a hunt. Cops found me at a motel and I’ve been in the foster care system ever since.”

“Oh Y/N, I am so sorry.” Sam sympathized.

“Yeah, I’ve had my ups and downs. The last family I’ve been with wasn’t too bad. Even let me stay with them after I aged out. Feeling a little bit guilty for ditching them.” You continued to confide.

“God, that must be tough. We lost our dad but just a few years back.” Dean admitted.

“I’m sorry to hear. From what my mom wrote about him, he seemed like a nice guy.”

“Ups and downs. But he left this place to us.” Dean answered.

“So did he run it?” You asked.

Both slightly chuckled. “No, I don’t think he stepped foot into this place since he was a kid.” Sam responded. “But his dad was part of it. It was an organization called the Men of Letters. They were focused more on the research and artifacts. But they opened their doors for young hunters to learn information and be better equipped.” “But it never carried on. A knight of Hell wiped out their entire faculty and it never reopened until we came around.” Dean continued. “So we run this every now and then when we need a break from hunting.”

“Initially we weren’t going to do it, just leave it as our home, but we decided it was better to be a support and resource to hunters, rather than them starting with no direction at all.” Sam added.

“How did you find us anyways?” Dean questioned.

“Like how I get all my answers, my mom’s journal. Your dad must have written the location down for her, maybe for like safe house or something. It came with a PO address too, since other things haven’t been working out, figured I’d give it a shot.” You explained. “Sorry, that probably wasn’t what you were going for, pretty intense screening process.”

“We want to ensure people know what they’re signing up for.” Sam said. “But you should have just explained who you were in your essay. We could have come and picked you up ourselves.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t want to let loose with all the juicy details in case it had just been set up as some elaborate prank…” You defended.

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea. We could have some fun with that.” Dean pondered.

Sam immediately changed the subject. “So did you drive Y/N?”

“Oh yeah, got my baby out front.” You responded. Dean grunted, there was only one Baby.

“Why don’t you drive it around to the garage?” Sam suggested.

“Yeah, okay.” You agreed and left the room.

“What do you think?” Sam asked Dean.

“She’s got potential.” Dean thought.

You pulled into the garage, gaping at the amazing collection of antiques. You pulled into an empty parking space. The boys wandered over to take a look at your ride as you got out with your duffel bag.

“Okay, first lesson.” Dean started. “You can’t fit a body in this trunk.”

“Maybe not in one piece.” You winked at him. “So does your school come with a room or just a parking space?”

Dean and Sam led you through the bunker. “After seeing Sam’s pathetic excuse for a living space, you’ll be pleased to know, this is where the magic happens.” Dean opened his door.

You glanced around. It was surprisingly clean, plainly decorated aside from the weapons hanging on the wall, and you couldn’t help but desire to go through his record collection.

Dean shut the door and continued the tour. “This room and all down the hall this way are currently open.” You opened the door, it was basically the same layout as Dean’s. Sam piped up. “This is the only other bedroom with a private bathroom. There is a common space up on the left.”

“Well, that makes the decision easy.” You threw your duffel on the bed.

“In that case, make yourself comfortable. And if you ever need anything,” Dean knocked on the adjoining wall. “I’m right next door.”

As they walked out you overheard a soft slap and Sam lecturing Dean. “No sleeping with the students.”

“Dude, I know… that’s not what…” Dean defended.

A few days had passed and no other students had shown up. You got familiar with the routine and even made the boys breakfast on more than one occasion. Sam even let you start breaking into some of the books.

“So Y/N.” Dean entered the library. “A case came up for me and Sam. Since it is still a couple days until the 31st, we’re going to take it. If you wouldn’t mind holding down the fort?” “Okay. But what if students show up?” You questioned.

“Yeah, just welcome them in, show ‘em around, maybe make some more of those killer pancakes…” Dean suggested.

“Umm.. not that I’m not trustworthy… but isn’t this a lot of responsibility for a person you just met?” You contemplated.

“See, you saying that gives me all the trust I need.” He started to head out. “Also, the place is rigged with cameras… except the bedrooms… actually my bedroom is…”

“This isn’t just another one of your ‘screening tests’ is it?” You skeptically questioned.

“That would be a great idea. But no, it’s not. Call if anything comes up… and if we don’t come back… well, we usually do, so don’t worry.” Dean rambled. “Alright, see ya.”

“See ya.” You repeated back before being left alone in the bunker.

——

Part 1

Tags: 

Forever Tags: @nanie5 @sea040561 @crushing83 @mogaruke @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @ginamsmith @jotink78 @fallen-castiel @sup3r-pott3r-lock3d @dancingalone21

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[bluboothalassophile]

A Weekend We’ll Never Forget!

Off to a Memorable Start!

Jason Todd was many things, stupid was not one of them. But he would admit this was the stupidest thing he had ever been doing as he pressed the throttle harder and the slight body clung a bit tighter to him as they rounded the corner.

Jason pulled a gun as he fired behind him. There was a curse in a foreign language he didn’t know as the girl behind him lifted her hand over his shoulder. Just as he looked up he saw the SUV heading for them and the portal opened. They zipped through it and came out still speeding down the interstate as the SUVs slammed into one another behind him.

There was a ringing phone which the woman behind him answered.

“Hello?” her smoky monotone answered. Jason swiveled his bike, as he roared down the exit.

Now, let Jason back up, because to explain the situation he had to start from the beginning.

~~~*~*~*~~~

80 Hours Earlier…

“Kori, this is a job, not a social trip,” Jason pointed out again as he collected the equipment he needed. Jason had gotten soli intel on the Zucco family, and they were making moves against his brother. Which wasn’t acceptable.

“Please, I have not spoken to friend Raven in such a long time. It would be most pleasing to have a girls’ weekend in the Las Vegas,” she smiled.

“Kori, I’m working, I’m not entertaining you and your friend,” he said levelly. He honestly didn’t even want to go to Las Vegas, the heat alone had him wanting to go back to Gotham but he was going. There was work to be done and he wasn’t one to ever back down from a job.

Also, Kori was trying to talk him into bringing Raven. RAVEN of all people.

Jason would never admit this out loud, but he had always had a massive crush on the demoness, even before his death.

And why wouldn’t he?

Raven was fucking gorgeous. She had those high cheek bones, her pert chin, squared/round jaw, that fuller upper lip, her slanted eyes, the sharp nose, those innocently arched brows, her large brow and that gem on the center of her brow. For as innocent and delicate as she looked, she had odd features which he had always thought to be breathtakingly gorgeous. It wasn’t like she was Kori or Donna, the heart stopping, breath taking, look at them gorgeous features. Raven’s were quieter, not softer, but definitely prouder.

Then there was her love of books.

Yup, he had always been hopelessly crushing on the delicate demon, and she was so damn intimidating he didn’t know how to approach her or what to say.

After his death though, she was just way too good for him. That was a woman who could be truly evil and destroy them all if she decided to, and she chose to be good. He found it admirable and all the more intimidating. Raven was out of his league, and his biggest crush despite whoever he was dating or trying to date.

And now Kori wanted to drag Raven off to Las Vegas, Jason wasn’t sure how to react to that.

“I promise that we shall stay out of your way,” Kori said. “And is it not less suspicious for a man to be seen with women than alone?”

Jason glared at her then.

“You are really going to push this aren’t you?” he sighed.

“Yes,” she grinned.

“Fine, fine, just fine! But I don’t want to hear any bitching from either of you during this trip. I got work to do and it’s bad enough Dickhead has decided he’s coming I don’t need more trouble,” He groused. Jason wasn’t really annoyed with Kori, he could never be annoyed with Kori, Kori was a queen among women.

But Kori was also oblivious about some earth things, and his jobs at times.

“Dick has decided to come?” Kori said softly.

“Yeah, princess, he’s coming along, I couldn’t get rid of him,” Jason sighed.

“I see,” she whispered.

“Look princess, if he causes any trouble for you I’ll shoot him myself, but for now, he’s coming as it does involve his family.” Jason looked over his equipment again.

“No, that is understandable, very well, I shall call friend Raven and we shall have a glorious weekend in the city of Las Vegas and we shall have a blast!” Kori grinned as she flew off.

Jason’s head fell as he sighed.

Why did it have to be Raven?

Dick he could handle. Hell, even a Roy who wanted to go binge drinking in Vegas he could handle (and Roy’s sobriety was the only reason Roy wasn’t coming on this trip). But Raven? Jason didn’t know how exactly to feel about that.

He hadn’t really talked or interacted much with Raven since his resurrection, though both Roy and Kori were tight with her. He had kind of been avoiding her.

Now she was coming along on this trip.

He just shook his head.

That wasn’t his problem. He was going to Vegas on a job. Not a vacation. Kori and Raven would do whatever it was that girls did when they hung out together and he would drag Dick along with him for duration of his mission. Which meant he would mostly be brushing off Dick’s poor attempts to be his brother again and ignoring Kori’s determination to drag him into her antics. Because Kori would attempt to drag him into her antics with Raven for relaxation. Kori was like a sister to him in that way, because Steph and Cass both did the same thing to him when he was in town.

Bending over Jason continued packing his stuff now, selecting the books he would want while waiting and listening. Then he got a text from Kori.

-Raven is coming!

Wrong Image! Screamed in his mind as he threw his phone from him like it was a grenade. This was going to be a long fucking weekend!

~~~*~*~*~~~

Jason pressed the bike harder as he popped a wheely, they hit the car and launched into the air. Raven threw her hand in front of him as black materialized before him and they landed hard.

There were bullets whizzing past him as he went full throttle and Raven continued to materialize a shadow path before him. He pulled his gun an fired wide at the assholes as they landed behind them on the interstate. Raven continued talking on the phone.

“Little bird! Who the hell are you talking too!” Jason shouted over his shoulder.

“Star!” Raven shouted back. There were two SUVs closing in around them.

“Oh,” Jason managed. He couldn’t demand she hang up on Kori, but this girl chat had to happen later. “Could use a lift first, then you can girl talk,” he shouted.

“One second Star,” Raven replied and he watched as Raven materialized another path for them.

~~~*~*~*~~~

72 Hours Earlier…

“Las Wages!” Dick shouted gleefully as he all but bounced off the plane with Kori right behind him. Jason just grumbled as he got up to follow, his bones were hurting, and his mind was exhausted, also Raven still looked fucking amazing and it was distracting.

Seriously, the woman still looked fucking gorgeous, hands down the prettiest woman he had ever seen.

“Jason! Raven! We must participate in the drinking of shots! Gambling! Poker! Slap Jack! And the many touristy things at Las Vegas!” Kori announced as she stood at the bottom of the tarmac waiting with that smile.

“Black Jack,” he and another corrected in unison which had him doing a double take of Raven who was giving him the same look he had no doubt.

“Next vacation I want to not be in a hundred and twenty degree heat,” Raven muttered as they walked onto the tarmac. It made him wonder what kind of vacation she would prefer. But he quickly walked for the airport rather than dwelling on this as Dick slung an arm around the small woman’s shoulders.

“This will be most glorious! We must take many photos for Roy, Jay!” Kori decided grabbing his hand as she bounce a bit. Keeping her feet on the ground was a bit of a genuine challenge for her, still.

“Uh-huh,” he nodded automatically. “No flashing your boobs though Kori.”

“Is that not an earth custom in Vegas?” she asked.

“New Orleans on Mardi Gras,” he answered.

“Very well. Oh! Raven! We must do a spa day before we leave!” Kori announced releasing his hand to speak to her friend. Jason took this time to fill out the paperwork for a rental car. He knew they were going to need it.

“Excellent, you girls have a nice relaxing time and Dickhead and I will do the mission,” Jason decided handing back the papers to the clerk.

“Who died and made you team leader?” Dick sputtered.

“This is a team? I thought I was on vacation with Kori for girl talk,” Raven flatly stated.

“That’s the spirit! Come on little bird, we’ll get the car,” he decided. This was Dick and Kori’s chance to hash things out because he didn’t want to deal with that awkward mess all weekend.

“So, Jason, why are we getting the car?” Raven asked as soon as they walked out the doors of the airport.

“This is Dick and Kori’s last chance to hash things out so we don’t have an insufferable weekend with their awkward dancing around one another,” Jason stated.

“Ah, that is very wise,” she nodded pulling her long black hair up into a pony tail. Fuck she was gorgeous.

“So, anything new for you?” he asked awkwardly.

“Not really, you?”

“Nope.”

“You like books, right?” she asked nervously.

“Always,” he answered.

“I have a new book,” she decided.

“What book?” he asked with genuine interest.

“I have recently started reading Jo Nesbø,” she said apprehensively.

“No shit!” he grinned; alright, he could talk books with her. She relaxed a bit.

“Yes, I’m thoroughly enjoying his portrayal of his characters, it is fascinating. I’m also enjoying the pace of the story so far, it is a pleasure to try to think ahead in this story,” she smiled. She was gorgeous, and Jason smiled a bit.

“I like his work, he’s got good mysteries, and I also like his characters,” he said as they made it to their car.

“Really?”

“Really,” he smiled.

“What else have you read?”

“How do you like Dumas?” he offered.

~~~*~*~*~~~

Raven and he slowed into a parking spot. She swung off the bike, pulling off the helmet as she shook out her hair and handed it to him.

“I’m going to go meet Kori, I can drop you at your hotel,” she offered.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he smiled as she unzipped that leather jacket.

“No problem,” she shrugged out of the jacket and tossed it to him. he packed it away.

“Now, I must know, why the hell would a beautiful woman like you root for the Mets?” he asked slinging an arm around her shoulders as they walked through the parking garage.

“Because, Jason, I am a New Yorker, and Mets are the soul of New York.”

“Thought that was the Yankees.”

“The Yankees are the gods of baseball, they don’t count,” she stated seriously.

“A woman after my own heart,” he snickered.

In the past seventy-six hours he had really hit it off with Raven and honestly it was like she had known her all his life. She was like a best friend for him as her other arm wrapped around his waist. He liked this familiarity between them.

“My Mets are better than your Knights,” she stated as he fixed his cap.

“Next game I’m getting us tickets, and loser has to take the winner on a date,” he decided.

“Oh, is that so?” Raven chuckled.

“It is, so prepare to lose queen, because your Mets SUCK!” he snickered.

“Your team lost, to the Diamond Backs!” she countered.

“So?”

“You’re delusional to think they’ll beat my Mets.”

[crystal-waterfalls]

My Suicide Story

For anyone who has been through similar shit or needs help/advice, I’m always here and I hope this story can, in some way, help you.

So it was about 3 in the morning as I was coming home from a friend’s apartment and it all started with a car accident right before Christmas that I don’t remember. I’ve had my car back for 2-3 weeks because I got into an accident prior to this one, and then it happened again before Christmas and I was so distraught I don’t even remember most of what happened. There was a man taking pictures of my car, the front of my car was smashed totally inward and all the airbags deployed. I just remember sitting there in my driver’s seat in absolute shock and awe that I finally totaled my car.

It felt like my entire life was crumbling, I felt like my parents would hate me, I felt that my friends would tease me to no end, I felt that I had failed miserably.  I just wanted it all to stop.

The cops came and took a report and I remember staring at the ground still upset and answering his questions as best I could. He had me call an Uber to take me home and I got home safe and literally took all my clothes off and just passed out in my bed instantly. 

I woke up the next day around 1-2pm and literally just sat in the gloom of my room feeling absolutely destroyed. My mind was racing, my heart pounding at the thought of what my parents would say to me the moment they found out. I didn’t want to deal with it, I didn’t want to be ridiculed. It was at that moment that I felt it would be easier to just....kill myself. I remembered that I had a knife in the drawer of my nightstand and I grabbed it, staring at it for a long while thinking of the power I was holding in my hand. After about 5 minutes of staring at the knife, I finally decided to make the cut. Granted, it was a very shitty knife with a dull blade so it definitely took me a few tries before I broke skin. The kind of drive I had to finish the job was a terrifying feeling. I literally was cutting my wrist with the most dull knife in my possession and the fact that I didn’t want to stop only proves how depressed I was. The part I think about the most is how dissociated I was in the moment. Not once did I cry, tear up, wince in pain, whimper, nothing. I felt no physical pain in the moment, only emotional and mental disgust with myself.

I kept at it for...a couple hours I believe? It was slow-going and I couldn’t stop. I went about an inch deep with this knife, fascinated with each layer of my body I was slicing through. I had a moment where I was more intrigued by the idea of what lay underneath my skin, than the fact that I wanted to die. Finally, after minutes that seemed to drag on forever, after watching this knife cut deeper and deeper into my skin, after seeing blood oozing out of my wrist, I stopped. I don’t know why. Finish the job, Sam. You already started it, why not just finish? Just finish one fucking thing in your life. But I can honestly say that I am glad I didn’t go through with it.

I stopped, wrapped some tissue around my wrist, and immediately texted my best friend, telling him what happened. He said he would be over soon and I just laid there staring at the wall until I fell asleep. I was asleep for about an hour when he finally showed up at my door. I went to let him in, said nothing, and went straight back to my room, showing him the damage. He held me and we said nothing for a few minutes. Then I decided to tell my mom. She was watching TV when I sat down next to her and she asked “what’s up?” and I lost it. Tears just pouring down my face, I showed her what I’d done and she was shocked (obviously). As she gently held my arm, examining my cut, I told her the events of the previous night. She mentioned that, no matter what, my life is more important than a hunk of metal; that can be replaced, I can’t. She suggested my friend take me to urgent care to get stitches. Upon arrival, I sat in silence until they called my name and lied about how it happened, saying I was opening a box and the box cutter did the damage. She saw right through me and asked if I harmed myself because, if I did, she only wanted to get me the help I needed. Again, I started tearing up and couldn’t speak. She saw it on my face and proceeded to give me a piece of paper that I would take to the nearest hospital to have me admitted.

I was put on a 51-50 hold which lasted 72 hours and basically meant that I was a danger to myself and possibly others and didn’t have a choice on whether I wanted to stay or not. This was incredibly stressful because I knew the money my parents would have to shell out to help pay for this and the stress it was putting my friends and family through.

The next 72 hours would be the longest weekend of my entire life.

I started out at a general hospital and was transferred to a mental hospital the next day where they took my phone to sever my contact with the outside world. I had 3 phone numbers memorized that I could call using the phone in the unit I was in. They inspected every inch of my body and asked me so many questions. I was analyzed by psychiatrists every day to see if my mental state was getting any better, I was surrounded by older people in much more severe mental states than myself, I had no privacy, was on a schedule set forth by the hospital, and was forced to participate in group every day. It was 3 days, but those 3 days each felt like a year. Finding ways to occupy your time when you’re used to having electronics as a distraction is difficult. I decided that I would participate in group activities like art or game time just to keep myself busy. This was beneficial in that I discovered that coloring with some music playing in the background really helps me relax. The man I roomed with suggested I walk up & down the hall after every meal to, 1) help time pass and 2) to help the food digest so I’m not just laying down after every meal. Doing this helped me realize that I thoroughly enjoy walking without a destination. I felt I was going crazy being in there, which is ironic because being there was supposed to help me feel sane. 

Finally, on the 3rd day, I was anticipating the arrival of my parents that evening to take me home. After all my discharge paperwork and being prescribed antidepressants, I was escorted to where my parents waited and I hugged my mom so tightly like I’ve never hugged her before. I was ELATED to finally be going home to some normalcy. Granted, nothing would be the same after this incident, but I was just glad to be going home. Oh, and it also helped that I was able to get my phone back, too. Thankfully, my parents took me to In N Out as a “congrats on feeling better” meal; which I’m glad they did because the hospital food wasn’t all that great.

Since then, my friends have all been much better about showing me they appreciate me, and my mom checks on me every few days to make sure I’m still doing okay (which I greatly appreciate because I never thought I could come to her with any problems). One of the best parts of getting out was my mom buying me a necklace with a little pendant that says “To my son, never forget that I love you. Life is filled with hard times and good times, learn from everything you can. Be the man I know you can be. Love Mom.” I wear it every day as a reminder that my mom will always have my back and be there to support me even when I feel she may not. 

And now, I’m doing much better. I have my bad days and I have my good days, as most people do, but I don’t have any more thoughts of suicide or harming myself. The antidepressant I’m taking helps me and talking to my friends helps me a lot. I know this is long & if anyone reads all the way through, thank you for taking time out of your day to read a little insight on my life. If this helps at least one person, then I will be forever grateful. If nobody reads this, then that’s okay too. I’ll be leaving this here as a reminder to myself that I can get through it.

It gets better.

[weekendwarriorblog]

30 Minute Experiment: Comedy #30ME

Okay, then... timer is set and I have “The Other Ed” Sheeran playing at Austin City Limits on my TV set thanks to Soundkick’s YouTube channel which is doing a 72 hour concert marathon that I’ll need to keep checking in on. But let’s get to today’s topic, which only came to me about an hour ago... (As mentioned, that’s kind of how this works.)

No, I’m not gonna use my 30 minutes to test out any of my lame comedy material on you, the poor reader who has stuck with me this far.  In fact, I have done a few stand-up comedy sets, and it’s something I’ve wanted to do more of, to the point where I’m constantly working on material and writing jokes for some future stand-up set I may or may not ever do. 

Anyone who knows me even tangentially knows that I’m almost constantly and regularly making jokes on the internet and even moreso since the advent of “social media”... I’m sure some of you get annoyed by it and unfollow or even block me, and honestly I’m getting used to it.  They say that everyone is a critic and as a critic who hasn’t been able to get much work lately, don’t I know it?

In fact, I have a friend who was doing a virtual Open Mic this weekend, and I thought of putting together some sort of set to do maybe 7 to 10 minutes of what I consider comedy, but I kind of decided as the week went along that it’s been tough to actually try to write any kind of comedy material or jokes considering how awful things have been and being that it’s been six weeks since I’ve been cordoned off in my tiny apartment.

I do want to do more open mics soon and keep perfecting (and I use that term loosely) my material but it’s very different standing in front of an audience (however large or small) and telling jokes than it is cracking jokes on Twitter or FB. At least on social media, I don’t particularly care if my jokes “land” (as they say in the biz)... honestly, I make jokes more to amuse and entertain myself and keep my own good spirits going in tough times than I do to entertain others. Honestly, if I can make one person laugh when I make a joke on Twitter, that’s more than enough for me. As long as the “crowd” doesn’t turn on me... which has happened a few times in the past few weeks.

I just don’t think I’m ready or confident to try to do some sort of “set” in front of even a virtual crowd when I’m not sure what the audience might be like. I guess that’s what most stand-ups have to deal with when doing the comedy club route, since you never know who is gonna be there and whether your sense of humor lines up with theirs. At least when you’re big enough to do comedy specials on Netflix or bigger shows, you know that the audience is there just for you. They’re already fans of something else you’ve done so they’re more or less in tune with your brand of humor. At least when it comes to social media and most of my friends (on FB) and followers (on Twitter), I know that most people realize when I’m joking and when I’m deadly serious. 

Or maybe people aren’t as in tune to when I’m joking or not cause every once in a while, I’ll make a joke directly to someone who I know gets that I’m joking and someone random will pop up and call me an idiot for thinking one way or another. (I had one of those yesterday when I made a joke about CGI, something I know quite a bit about, having been to ILM and many other CG houses and discussed it with filmmakers and visual FX supervisors, I mean countless times!) Anyway, this person thought I was an idiot for making a joke that CG animators should be able to work from home since they’d be sitting at their computers to do their jobs anyway, so easy enough to do from home. It was a pretty stupid joke made to someone who knew I was joking but someone who didn’t, got pretty testy with me. I just blocked them.

That’s not something when you’re trying to do live comedy, although I guess you can mute hecklers on Zoom easier than you would at a live club. 

I actually have a friends who regularly do stand-up comedy, and at least two or three of them who do it professionally for a living (and they’re really good at it). I kind of know what’s involved with writing comedy professionally and trying to write jokes and then deliver them in a way that gets the audience on your side. Believe me, it’s tougher than many people think... just give it a try yourself if you don’t believe me.

Don’t get me wrong. I definitely feel like I will do it again sometime soon but I do have to put more time into my material and right now, it just doesn’t seem like making jokes about COVID or everyone’s isolation or anything in that vein just doesn’t seem appropriate right now. Some people need those laughs to get through this, but I feel like others are on edge so much that they, like me, are having trouble finding humor in what’s going on. I don’t blame them one bit.

As you may have figured out from some of my more “ranty” #30Mes, I’m having a difficult time getting through this myself and I’m experiencing all of the bad side effects like horrible vivid dreams, boredom, the general feeling of one day blurring into the next. I’ve been trying hard to use all my time constructively including doing work on some of my fiction work that I’ve also been putting more time into then I’ve been able to do when I was running around to two or three screenings a day. 

Obviously, I’m still trying to write the Weekend Warrior each week but it gets tougher to focus and concentrate on movies when there’s so much being thrown my way as distraction -- Ed Sheeran, for instance -- but my inability to really focus on getting some material ready for this open mic is only part of my problem. Sure, I’ll admit it. I’m afraid of bombing, cause I’m in such a delicate place emotionally, and it’s not like I’m that stoic or strong in the best cases, which this most definitely is not.

So I’m going on 20 minutes writing about “Comedy” and this is probably the saddest and least funny thing you’ve ever read, so hopefully, that helps you understand why it might be hard for anyone (even professional comedians) to be funny right now. I’m actually really impressed and mesmerized by the likes of Conan O’Brien and other talk show hosts to keep it together and still manage to keep their spirits in a place where they can perform and be funny once a day for 20 minutes or more. 

Don’t anyone tell you that comedy is easy, because they clearly haven’t done anything close to what these amazing entertainers are able to do on a nightly basis. I’m certainly nowhere near that point despite my seemingly endless jokes on Twitter -- and my apologies to the thousands who probably have me muted for that reason and others. 

Surely, there must be a place where comedians actually feel confident to perform their material in front of others and feel confident about their material. I’m definitely not at that point yet... I mean, I was never really that confident about performing someone else’s music in front of others even though I did that quite a bit in my past.  (It was kind of funny when I was working at Sam Ash and giving a software demo but was too nervous to even play something on the keyboard to show them MIDI or anything. I’m just not that showy a player and it’s been even longer since I played keys.)

But getting back to “comedy” here, it’s really interesting to see how people in general are reacting to humor, and also how many of my friends who really need some humor in their lives right now, don’t really actively try to get in some comedy at least once a day. I definitely try to include at least a half hour of comedy every day right now, even if it just catching Conan before crashing for the night. it’s just part of my being that i feel needs to be exercised every day if I want to stay sane against all the pressures I’m trying to fend off, silly things like money, bills, etc... none of which are particularly funny.

Sure, any psychiatrist will tell me that my attempts at humor and comedy is just me deflecting away from all the awful things going on in the world around me as well as my own personal situation, but hey, that’s why I never would pay a therapist to tell me these things. Believe me, I don’t need to pay someone to offer me advice or criticize me... that’s what I have friends for. (rimshot)

But kidding aside, I do appreciate all of my friends and followers who do put up with my “comedy” and my constant cracking of jokes and maybe even reacting or laughing to one or two so I don’t feel like everything I’m doing is going out into a vacuum.  I know some people I know (like my brother) would probably give me shit for some of the jokes I make, because maybe they reflect badly on someone who is currently actively looking for a job in the worst job market in decades. Like I said, it’s what I need right now to get through it, and I just have to hope that I stop myself from making the most offensive of the jokes that pass through my warped brain. Thankfully, I have a lot of weirdo friends who don’t mind my humor/jokes, but hey, they’re my weirdo friends and I love ‘em!

And with that, my time’s up for the day... will see if I have anything to write tomorrow!

[sunshinykittens-blog]

Not Enough Alcohol in NYC...

Saturday, November 25 the wee hours of the morning. I think.

I would love to go to sleep right now, God knows I have been through enough chaos the past 72 hours to qualify for hazard pay, or at least PTSD treatment. The flights, the usual holiday family drama (not EVEN my family), an empty apartment, snotting all over some Tower residents, new digs…but I probably should start from the beginning…

Wednesday

When last we left our intrepid adventurer (that would be me), it was in an airport, JFK to be exact. I was waiting, along with Sunny and the 3 younger kids, for our flight out to Pasco (via Seattle) to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with her mom and oldest child. My kids weren’t going to be at my family gathering, so no sense in going home, especially since I’m spending an entire week home for Christmas. Besides, Sunny’s mom has been going through some health issues, and I haven’t seen her in forever. Sunny made all the flight arrangements, all I was supposed to do was pack my bag and be ready to go. So something I didn’t know about her before this day, seeing as I had never flown with her before: Sunny is paranoid about missing flights. I realize that this is one of the busiest days for traveling, and that means all the lines for everything would be extra long, but I am still not sure why we had to leave the apartment at 6 am for a 1:30 pm flight. Maybe she thought we’d get caught up in the parade traffic. But since The Man arranged for a car to take us to the airport (and pick us up upon our return Sunday afternoon), we didn’t have to worry about getting a cab or riding the subway (Sunny’s great idea). So yeah, I am grateful to The Man for the car. Amazingly, we checked bags and got through the security lines very quickly. We were through to the gate section of the airport by 10. Even though one of us was chosen for the random search (guess who that was). Luckily I didn’t have any contraband to speak of, so that was pretty smooth, except for them telling me I needed to get my driver’s license updated to my new address when I get back. Yet another thing for me to have to squeeze in before Christmas. Sunny suggested we grab some coffee and lunch while we waited for our plane. Over this meal is when she told me we had another 3 hours before we were scheduled to board. That’s when I made my last post. (BTW, the girl child is an extremely talented artist, I’ll have to post some of her work sometime soon. Oh, and Sunny did manage to catch the loose cannon. When last I saw, all the kids were still alive.)

I will say this, at least Sunny got us first class seats for our flights (yes, I said flights). It was nice, but we were kind of spread out a bit. Which is nothing compared to the connecting flight in Chicago, which was delayed over an hour for mechanical problems, and we got bumped to another plane, and everyone was pretty scattered then. For our final leg from Salt Lake, though, we were in one cluster of seats, thanks to the airline folks feeling bad for us having missed that connecting flight. After they saw how frazzled she was with the middle child, who kept wandering off. But we arrived safely at our destination airport only about 2 hours later than scheduled. Oh yes, and every time we hit an airport with wifi, Sunny would get a gazillion messages from the oldest child asking why we weren’t there. I felt bad for Sunny, so I admit I bought her a drink in Chicago and Salt Lake. And then I paid for a taxi van to drive us from the airport to her mom’s house so we wouldn’t have to wait for a shuttle.

Didn’t take long for the drama to start when we got there, though. There was only one bed in the house, and that belonged to Sunny’s Mom. The oldest hadn’t even put her bed together, so we were all sleeping on the floor. I haven’t done that in I don’t know how long. Mom started in on how worried she’d been and why were we late, and then blaming Sunny for not getting there any sooner (like we can just hijack the plane or something). But like I said before, Mom had recently had some health problems, so I just tried to overlook it and be there to support Sunny. She was going to need it. Then we all stayed up way too late (with far too little alcohol), and finally got to bed at some point after midnight. I whispered to Sunny as we were drifting off that had I known we were going to sleep on the floor, I’d have rented a car and got a hotel room. Or at least rented some rollaway beds.

Thursday, Thanksgiving

Well, this day started entirely too early for a regular day, much less a holiday, even with the extra time we got for being 3 hours later than home time. Mom had said she needed help cooking, and we were fine with that. But she needed to oversee everything and everyone, assuming we had never entered a kitchen before in our lives. By the way, who in their right mind puts an egg into their literal Stovetop Stuffing? Menu was pretty good, very standard: ham (instead of turkey, which was fine with me), stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potato soufflé, rolls, and 2 kinds of pie with whipped cream. It was a store bought kind of meal; everything came out of a box, can, or bag, or was bought ready to serve like the ham. Except the pumpkin pie. The Airport Problem Child made that and did a really good job, if I do say so myself. Which I do. So as soon as everything was cooked, we had to eat – right that second! Dinner conversation included why in the world did Sunny move so far away, why didn’t she tell her mom and oldest before she moved, why didn’t she find a man and settle down, how her mom’s health was (not good and how much worse it was getting every second that Sunny wasn’t caving), how the kids liked school, Sunny works too much, maybe at least she could find a husband in New York, how were my kids doing, and when was she moving back to Washington. We tried deflecting most of that by saying we had good jobs that we liked, we were making really good money at them, and we were about to move into a secure building at the first of next month. After dinner (with an unhealthy side of stress and heartburn), everyone retired for a nap. Except for Sunny. She stayed up to clean. Of course I stayed up with her. And it took every bit of 2 hours to clean. After which, the tree came out.

Sunny is not a Christmas person, she really doesn’t like it at all. She feels it’s entirely over commercialized, which I agree with. Unlike her, I enjoy the holiday season with full gusto. My only complaint is with people who have conniption fits when people break out the Christmas songs before Thanksgiving. I also find these are the same ones who then start complaining that there isn’t enough time in the Christmas season to get everything done that they want to do – starting the day after Thanksgiving. Anyway, Sunny was going to be aggravated with the evening. So first, her mom put on some Christmas station with some really annoying, tacky Christmas music. And let me tell you, that is really saying something coming from me. I love all Christmas music. At least I thought so until that night. I mean nobody liked it. Not even Sunny’s mom! And then the tree, it’s a wonder Sunny hasn’t ground her teeth down to stumps. It’s kind of old, but we couldn’t get her mom to let us run out and buy a new one. And the lights…it’s a wonder they can’t see that thing from space. You know those sort of net-type lights, the kind you drape over the shrubs outside? 5 of them. Draped onto a 6 foot tree. Then we had to add another 15 strings of plain white lights. I tell you, I needed shades when we plugged in the tree. Then the ornaments, a mix of glass, plastic, and handmade kids ornaments, and then those irritating silvery plastic icicles, the kind that clog up the vacuum. Then, just when we were starting to get into the tacky music, Mom changed it to something equally obnoxious.

About an hour later, I was questioning my decision to be there for the whole weekend. Because that’s when the oldest started in on how unfair life was and how hard she has it there. I could tell she was angling to move with us. Allow me to say one thing about the eldest child: Super Social Justice Warrior Snowflake, she’s about as far from me on the spectrum politically, religiously, and socially as you can get. And before we had left New York, Sunny made me promise that I would not start a fight with her. In other words, I’m surprised that I didn’t bite my tongue off in the short time I was exposed to her awake. She went all over the place from one thing to another, but finally I’d had enough. In fact, I don’t even remember what it was she said, or even what I said, only that I finally blew up and smacked her with an opinion that should have given her a heart attack right then and there. But her face welled up and she stormed off to her room, slamming the door shut and sobbing loud enough to be heard in Seattle. I just looked at Sunny and said I needed to get some air. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. I walked for a good while, too bad I don’t have a fitness tracker because I easily walked 10k steps. I finally got so cold I went back inside (no hot water for a shower, but I’ve come to not expect that), and crashed in the living room with the kids instead of in the eldest child’s room with Sunny. I slept very little, eventually getting up literally at the crack of dawn for another walk.

Friday

Overnight I had come to the conclusion that neither my blood pressure nor Sunny’s family could take me sticking around for the rest of the weekend. As soon as I walked out of the door, I was on my phone with the airlines looking for the first flight out. I agreed to be on standby; even an airport had to be better atmosphere. I called a taxi, and realized everything except for my carry on bag was still in the bedroom where Sunny, the artist, and eldest child were still asleep. I was not about to go in and risk waking the crew. Instead, I tiptoed over the boys and went to the kitchen to leave a note.

“Sunny, Needed to fly back quickly. Can you please bring my suitcase when you come? See you in a couple of days. Call when I get home. Tell your mom thanks for dinner. Kate”

I carefully gathered my few things in the living room and made for the door. The youngest sat up and rubbed his eyes, then asked where I was going. I lied to the boy, told him I was needed at work, and that I’d see him in a few days. He shrugged, nodded, yawned, and went back to sleep.

I sat in the airport for only a couple of hours before I got on a flight to Denver, where I sat for two hours before I got a plane to New York. From JFK, I took a taxi back to the apartment. As I was walking up the three flights to the apartment, all I wanted to do was take a long hot bath, cuddle with my Spazzie, and get a full night’s sleep. I planned to spend the rest of the weekend lounging around and maybe doing some packing for the impending move looming on the horizon. It was about 11 pm. I unlocked the door to my apartment, stepped in, turned on the lights and saw…nothing.

Literally nothing. Every single thing was missing from our apartment. No futon in the living room. No dishes in the cabinets. No towels in the bathroom. And, the horror hit me as I realized, EVEN THE CATS WERE MISSING!!! For the third time since I moved to New York, I was dialing 911 to report a theft. And, bless her heart, Officer Yang came to take the report. I tried to give a pretty good description of what was missing. Her partner went down to the super’s apartment but there was no response. About half past midnight, Jake’s mom came home from her shift and looked in. We found out from her that a group of men had come first thing that morning and had been packing up our stuff. She had assumed that she had misremembered the date of our move. She offered to let me stay in their apartment, but I didn’t relish another night sleeping on the floor. Instead I called a cab as soon as the police left.

I had thought about going to a hotel, but figured they would pretty much be booked solid. I decided the best place for me to go would be to the Tower. I knew there were comfortable looking sofas, at least, and I figured that all the residents were gone for the holiday. Maybe I could convince The Man to hurry up the remodel because we really did have nothing. No sense in buying furniture, moving into the old apartment to just have to move it the following week. I had the taxi drop me off at the Tower, and I stood just outside to make the phone call I was dreading. I had to tell Sunny we had been cleaned out. I got her voicemail, which made some sense to me. It was closing in on 1:30 am, which was 10:30 pm there.  And her mom was always fussing about her being on her phone. I left her a message and promised to call after I got some sleep. Then I went inside.

The night guard was someone I hadn’t met before, but I had my badge so he let me in. The elevator ride up was the longest leg of my journey. I was reviewing all the events in my head and was starting to feel overwhelmed when the doors opened on the 91st floor. I had decided that I was going to have a cup of tea before trying to find a blanket and settling in on the sofa in the lounge. Surely The Man wouldn’t begrudge me that after everything I had been through. I hung up my coat and stashed my carry on in the closet and entered the common area, headed to the stove to heat water in the rarely-used kettle.

Standing at the island were three men. I recognized Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes from news stories I had seen over the years. The other one was unfamiliar to me. They were casually dressed, sweatpants and tees. It appeared they had just come down from the training room, they were slightly sweaty with a healthy glow. Captain Rogers was pouring some post-workout smoothie thing into glasses. I took a deep breath, feeling everything from the past few days welling up behind my eyes, and my nose starting to tingle and burn. I was desperately trying to contain my emotions in front of the people that I was definitely going to be running into in the halls and elevators, residents of the Tower. I was not going to lose control.

They glanced over at me as I came in. Captain Rogers welcomed me, asking if I was one of the housekeepers. I told him I was and then he said he thought we’d be back Sunday evening and where was my partner. I told him that she was still in Washington, and we were supposed to be back Sunday, but I had to leave early. Sergeant Barnes then asked why. And I think that’s where I started to lose that tenuous hold on my emotions. I tried telling them about the disastrous 24 hours that Thanksgiving had been, but I think I became a bit flustered. I don’t think I was making sentences. And then pieces of the past 2 days came spilling out and I absolutely burst into tears. Next thing I knew, I was seated on a stool at the island, Sergeant Barnes was doing his best to awkwardly comfort me with an arm around my shoulders, and the man I didn’t know was pressing a tumbler of some form of alcohol into my hand and demanding that Captain Rogers go find Mr. Stark and bring him up immediately. Before long, hthe Captain had returned with The Man Himself in tow. I will admit, he was concerned to see me sitting there sobbing, and he asked me what was wrong. I lost it again, someone handed me a handkerchief, and after about 5 more minutes, I regained some control. I blew my nose, took a deep breath and started to speak, but when I tossed back half the dark amber liquid, there went my voice.

When it returned, I told him as calmly as I could about the stress at Sunny’s mom’s house, that I just had to leave before really bad things were said, the layovers, the crying babies, coming home to a literally empty apartment, finishing up with the emotional outbursts they had all just experienced, which I assured him was a rare occasion, and could I please have a blanket so I could crash on the sofa. I finished the drink while waiting for the answer. I noticed glares aimed at The Man from the others in the room. And then the Captain threatened to call Miss Potts. Finally The Man said to follow him.

We went down on the elevator together, all four of us. I could almost feel the heat of the glares directed at my boss. This was the second elevator ride I’d had with him that was in complete silence, but somehow I felt like the awkwardness was coming from him this time. The doors opened on the 62nd floor.  I followed The Man down the hall to the door opposite the one he had showed us at the beginning of the week, the others behind me like some sort of guard or something. I now thought that what he was going to do was bring up a bed for me. Maybe this convinced him to complete the remodeling ASAP. But when I stepped into the now opened doorway, I was completely flummoxed. There, inside that room, was my apartment. Complete with cats. Spazzie came racing towards me and I scooped him up cuddling and scratching behind his ears. And I started crying again. I put him down for a minute and asked what the hell was going on.

The Man shrugged and told me he’d figured it would be great if we came back and found everything already moved in. One less thing for us to worry about, as it were. They had gone in, packed everything up and moved it, though they hadn’t known what stuff was mine and what was Sunny’s, so unfortunately we were going to have to go through the boxes ourselves. I was really jet lagged, and it was after 2 in the morning, so it took a little while for everything to sink in. But when it did…

I yelled, I screamed at him, I cried big fat hot mad tears. Sergeant Barnes smirked, thoroughly enjoying every word. Sunny’s cat, Aaron, came into the room and started pawing at me. I scooped him up and continued ranting. And then I realized something was climbing my leg. I looked down to see this cute little gray tabby kitten working its way up. And that was most definitely not my cat. I’d never seen it before. The guys all insisted that it must be ours because it was inside the apartment when they packed it up. And it had a collar. About then I felt all my energy drain from my body. I ordered them out and told them that we would finish this conversation tomorrow. I fell into the bed in the bedroom and pulled a comforter up over me. Spazzie curled up behind my knees, Aaron was behind me, and the kitten sprawled out on the pillow next to me. I’ve got to call Sunny tomorrow to let her know everything is OK and to just come to the Tower as soon as she gets in. But right now I need to sleep.

[the-black-dragons-den]

this is in response to this post where Louis C.K. talks about why it’s important that we work to be able to talk about suicide more openly. i have a lot of experiences to share in this regard and it’s important to me to express them but i didn’t want to take up all that space on the original post so i put it here.

“and you’re like ‘no’ because if i say yes, you’ll press a button and folks will run in, 'HOLD HIM DOWN!’“

 this makes me want to cry for so many reasons. let me tell you something. 

i knew i was depressed at age 3. knew it. the suicidal thoughts came later, but easily before my teens. it wasn’t until i started having problems in school (having always been a model straight-a teacher’s-pet student) and a teacher e-mailed my parents saying that i was “hurting the class dynamic by not participating”  [and neglecting to mention that the other students were bullying the shit out of me] that my parents finally took me to the pediatrician to see if I was depressed. i was about 13 so my mom was in the doctor’s office with me. and of course the doctor asked if i had had suicidal thoughts. and damn right i said no. and yeah, part of it was the fear of being locked up then and there. and part of it was the shame. depression was not something our family talked about. mental illness was not a topic of discussion. stories of people who had committed suicide were met with cringes and distasteful looks. and every day in school and in church on the weekends we would hear about how sinful this act was, to destroy a piece of god’s creation, and that these people would certainly not be allowed to just go to heaven. so when that doctor asked me that, with the eyes of my mother and this doctor boring into me, i said no, that i had not thought about suicide. and i always wonder how telling the truth right there might have changed things.

i was diagnosed with possible “mild” depression and prescribed a low-dose of prozac, which i was never allowed to take. my mother, well-meaning but poorly informed, attempted to pursue a natural or homeopathic cure for me. i eventually developed a pattern of self harm and two years later, had my first hospitalization due to a suicide attempt. 

at my first psychiatric unit, it became clear very quickly that this was just like school - they didn’t really care too much if you really knew or understood the material, they just wanted you to be able to give the right answers on the test. understandably, it’s hard to take a group of 20 adolescents at a variety of ages and with a variety of different issues and counsel them in a way that will be helpful to all of them. but i was put on medication [good i needed it] and then was taught “coping skills”. basically, this meant a list of ways to distract yourself if you’re upset. music, drawing, hands in ice water, etc. i tried to explain to my counselors that i was tired of “coping” with my life and that i wanted to “enjoy” my life. and while some of them were compassionate, it was obvious that they couldn’t do much to help me. i knew i was costing my parents money by being there, and one of the counselors used that against me, telling me, “don’t you want to get out of here?” and making it sound like that was the goal - not getting better. so i shut my damn mouth and started smiling like i’d been taught through years of conditioning that children should be seen and not heard, and i acted like i didn’t want to die and i gave the right answers and i got out.

the second time i was hospitalized for a suicide attempt was about five years later. surprisingly the first psychiatric unit hadn’t cured me and my mother had made the, once again ill-informed but well-meaning, decision to take me off my meds. being no longer an adolescent, i was taken to a different psychiatric unit. and i told myself to try. to not just work the system. to try to listen, and learn, and figure out how to get better from these people because they must know right? and then they brought in the ice water and i realized it wasn’t any different. no one had a response for me when I said “I don’t want to cope with my life, I want to live and enjoy things.” some people tried to remind me that there has to be suffering to be good times. i wanted to scream that my childhood had been ripped out of my clutching hands by the shadow of a demon in my head that no one would ever believe me about. i wanted to tell them, “i have been suffering for 18 years. i have not known a single day without this depression in my head. so you tell me how long keeping my hands in this ice water is going to distract me from the crushing weight of reality. tell me how many pretty pictures i have to paint, how many poems i have to write, how many times i have to snap that rubber band on my wrist before i get one day without a suicidal thought?” at the end of my 72-hour psychiatric hold, i was committed without any knowledge. it wasn’t until i brought up my release that I was informed that my psychiatrist had deemed me “unsafe to be released”. and at this place, i lived in fear. shift changes meant new rules because they weren’t written down, and different nurses had different ideas with what was allowed. my anxiety was on constant alert because i could get in trouble for things from one nurse, while the same thing was totally fine by another nurse. i got yelled at for wearing a sleeveless top (the top i had come in in, which i had worn many times without incident), and for playing the piano quietly while someone else had the tv on very loud (something that the other patients had told me they didn’t mind). i was harassed by other patients (who were dealing with their own problems - not bad people, just also struggling people). and it was not uncommon for the staff to wear no identification, refuse to identify themselves, and simply loiter in our rooms. so once again, i shut the fuck up and started acting like this had changed something and got the FUCK out of there.

nowadays, i am receiving outpatient treatment at a building that is part of the same hospital, is right next door, but isn’t part of the psychiatric unit. for the first week, including my introductory appointments, i couldn’t go into the building without having tears streaming down my face. i had meltdowns in the car before the first two appoints, tantrum-like anxiety attacks at the thought of being near the place. because all i could think was, someone here is going to pull some strings and they’re not going to let me leave. i suspected my parents more than once of trying to bring me here to just commit me and be done with it (unfounded fear, my parents would not). and though i don’t cry the whole time anymore, i still have severe anxiety about going to these appointments every day. i spend the rest of the day feeling anxious and my boyfriend comforts me, telling me i’m safe and that no one’s going to take me away, because deep in a corner of my head, i’m always so scared of that.

that fear of being taken away and locked up, that is so fucking real, so present, and so overwhelming sometimes. so of course people are going to be scared of admitting how bad things really are.

but i’m sorry, i’m not finished yet. the flipside of this is that i often have to convince people that i’m depressed. you see, because of my upbringing and the pressure i faced to perform well in all areas of my life, i learned to hide that depression. no talking about it, no being sad, no letting anyone see the tears or the self-harm marks, i learned to hush up and do good in school, sports, theater, church, my social groups, any other activities. i never drank or did drugs, i wasn’t having sex. 

and in college, things got bad again. i was getting As, on two scholarships, and self-harming more than ever. i would power through my work, self-harm to calm down, and repeat. someone told me, “you’re basically writing essays with your own blood.” so i went to my academic counselor and told her that i believed i would need to leave school because my depression was getting too bad. this was not a decision made lightly. honestly, the idea of not succeeding in school and not graduating made me want to die even more than the idea of staying. but death was pretty certain if i stayed, and if i left, i would have a more safe place and less obligations so i would be able to seek help. she did not agree with me wanting to leave school when i explained about the depression. i reiterated my mental pain many times to her before finally explaining that school was making me suicidal. at that point, she literally would not let me leave her office until one of the school nurses escorted me to the dean’s office. i was not allowed to be alone. finally, i was able to push through my withdrawal, and was then promptly banned from the campus because they didn’t want me to “be a distraction to the other students” who, you know, were my pretty much only friends and support at the time. and yes i understand that this is all legality bullshit because they have to cover their asses and they don’t want me to kill myself on their property. but that’s what it’s come to.

that if i’m not suicidal, people believe that i’m not depressed enough for it to reasonably impair my day-to-day functioning, but if i do mention that i’m suicidal, i will be treated either like a toddler who only gets safety scissors, or i will be escorted to the nearest facility “equipped to deal with” people like me.  

fuck the way our society views suicide and depression. we need to be more open about this shit. so many people will never get real help if we don’t.

[silvershadow1398]

#110 LONG

Does it bother you when someone lies to you? Yes

Does anyone like you? Nope

Do you care too much/not at all/just enough? Too much

Are you excited about anything? Yes

Will you have a bf/gf in 6 months? It could actually happen but idk

Does anyone regularly tell you they love you? Yes, parents

Have you kissed anyone with a tattoo before? No

Would it suck to have to share a bed every night? Yes

Who’s the last person you talked to about sex? My mom

Has anyone ever told you you have pretty eyes? Aside from family, no

Did you have a bf/gf on your birthday? No

How many people do you trust with everything? No one

Does anyone call you babe or baby? No

Think back to this time last year, were you happy? NO

Next time you will kiss someone? Would be in the next 6 months, but I’m not anticipating anything

Was your last kiss drunk or sober? Sober

Are you annoyed at anyone? Yep

Would you rather be 3 inches taller or shorter than you are now? Taller

Is there someone who meant a lot to you at one point, and isn’t around now? Yes

You’re locked in a room with the person you last kissed, any problems? Yes

Does the person you have feelings for right now know you do? I don’t have feelings for anyone

Do you forgive easily? No

Could you go out in public looking like you do now? No

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t do? Yes

Listening to? New Person, Same Mistakes by Tame Impala

What are you doing tomorrow? Nothing that I know of

Do you cry easily? Kind of

Has anyone ever told you they love you? Yes but I don’t think they truly meant it

Have you ever kissed the last person you talked to on the phone? No

What were you doing at 2:00 this morning? Sleeping

Will you be in a relationship next month? I don’t think so

What color eyes does the last person you held hands with have? Never held anyone’s hand

What are you listening to right now? See #25

Do you have a best friend? Idk

Who was the last person to see you cry? Probably my mom

Has anyone upset you in the last week? Yes

How did you sleep last night? Went to bed late, but slept well

What was the first thing you did this morning? Give something to my mom

Do you like your bed? Yes

Do you want to kiss someone if you could? Idk

Will this weekend be a good one? Probably will be boring and lowkey stressful

Is your hair naturally curly, or straight? Straight

Is the last person to kiss you, mad at you? No

Have you ever stayed in a hotel? Yes

What is in your pockets? Nothing

Where would you like to be right now? Australia

Have you ever cried in public? Yes

How do you feel right now? Meh

Who was the last person you talked to on the telephone? Credit card company

What were you doing at 7am? Sleeping

Is anyone on your bad side right now? Yep

Can you make brownies without having to look at the directions? I can’t make brownies at all

Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? It depends

What should you be doing right now? Getting ready to go out

Is tomorrow going to be a good night? Yeah I think so

Butter, plain, or salted popcorn?. Butter

Next time you will kiss someone? See #15

Do you care what others think about you? Yes

Will you ever hug the last person you hugged again? Of course

Do you plan on moving in the next year? No

Is it easy for others to make you feel awkward? Yes

When was the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face? Last month

Is there someone you don’t ever want to be out of your life? Some of my college friends, someone I used to dance with

How many windows are open on your computer? 2 tabs, 4 apps

Are you shy? Yes

How did you feel when you woke up today? Content

Think of the last person you told “i love you” to, did you mean it? Yes

What is your favorite thing to have on your bed? Pillows

How many hours of sleep did you get last night? 8

What are you doing tomorrow? Packing

Has anyone told you lately that they would always be there for you? No

Do you ever miss your past? NOPE

Does anybody call you babes/babe/baby? No

What is the last thing you thought about? That I need to get ready soon

When was the last time you talked to one of your best friends? Idk if I have a best friend, but texted my closest friend yesterday and talked in person last month

Missing someone right now? Nah

Is there someone on your mind that shouldn’t be? Not rn

If you had to move in with a friend, which one would you pick? Oh geez, ideally no one but probably someone I go to school with

When is your next road trip? Idk exactly but sometime in the next 6 months

Is anyone ignoring you right now? I don’t think so

Do you hate the last girl you had a conversation with? No

Do you hate the last guy you had a conversation with? No

Do you like to cuddle? Yes with certain people

What’s more attractive: when someone kisses you out of nowhere, or when you know it’s coming? When I know it’s coming

Are you currently looking forward to anything? Yes

Is there anybody you wish you could be spending time with right now? Nah

Last time you were on the phone? I don’t remember

Did you have a good day yesterday? Eh

Who was the last person that left you a message? I don’t remember

Who knows? ??????

Do you hate the last person you kissed? No

What are you wearing right now? Pajamas

Have you ever been awake for 48 hours? No

Look outside, how’s the weather? Nice

Did you ever think someone didn’t like you, but came to find out they really did? Yes

Could you go out in public looking like you do now? No

Have you hugged anyone in the last 72 hours? Yes

How late did you stay up last night and why? 2 AM, idk

Ever kissed someone who smokes? No and I never would

Has the last person you kissed ever made you cry? Yes

Where is your biological father right now? WHO THE FUCK KNOWS?

If your best friend was kicked out, would your parents let him/her live with you? Maybe temporarily but not permanently because I’d lose my mind

Are you open about your feelings or closed off? Closed off

Do you think if you died, that the person you like would even care? No one likes me lol

Do you drink bottled water? I don’t care but yes I have

Where did you get the shirt your wearing? Idk

What are you listening to at the moment? Let Go by Seven Lions

Name something you dislike about the day you’re having? Boring and I have to go out later

If you are being extremely quiet, what does that mean? Leave me alone

Is the last person of the opposite sex you texted single? Haha no it was my dad

Congratulations, you’re pregnant… you say? First of all, I’m a virgin so how? Second, this is not good at all

When was the last time you cried? Tuesday

List three things near you: My phone, my pillows, some of my stuffed animals

Is your birthday soon? Yes

Do you like the color green? Sure

Do you like winter? Sure

How many pillows do you sleep with? Two

Have you ever been in a perfect relationship? Never been in one at all

Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? Idk if I have one so yes

Does the thought of marriage scare you? Yes

Where is the person you last texted? Downstairs

Who is someone that you would do anything for? Idk probably my mom

When’s the last time you said you were fine, but really weren’t? Yesterday

Did you wear what you are wearing today for a specific reason? Yeah lol my pajamas

Did you eat a cookie today? No

What’s bothering you right now? Stress about traveling next week

Ever given your all to someone who walked away? Yes

Have you ever been around someone that was high? Yes

Do you want to see someone right now? Nah

Will your next kiss be a mistake? Idk

Is it easier to forgive or forget? Forget

Are you mean? I can be

Have you ever seen someone you knew and purposely avoided them? Yes

If you could change your eye color, what would it be? Blue

Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? Yes

Connection between you and the last person who you texted? My mom

Have you yelled at anyone in the past few days? Yes

Looking back, did you ever think you would be where you’re at in life now? No

Are you in a good mood? I’m alright

Is there anyone getting on your nerves at the moment? Kinda

Last place you fell asleep other than your bed? I don’t remember

Do you hate anyone? Yes

Who are your last 3 received calls from? Telemarketers, my grandma

What it your natural hair color? Black

Have you ever changed clothes in a vehicle? Probably

Can you remember the last place you were when someone kissed you? On a boat

If the person you liked showed up to your door RIGHT NOW, how would you react? I don’t like anyone

Do you have any alcohol bottles in your room? No

Last person to text you and what did they say? Mom, “I just don’t feel up for it”

Have you ever turned to smoking or drinking to solve a problem? No

What’s bothering you right now? Stress

Do you like anyone? No

Have you kissed someone whose name starts with R? No

Who’s the biggest whore you know? Someone at school

If someone said to you “nice ass” you say? Fuck off

Ever been so drunk someone else had to carry you? Nope, never been drunk at all

Do you hate anyone? Yes

What are your plans for tomorrow? Nothing that I know of

What are you listening to right now? The Nights by Avicii

Are you dating the last person you kissed? No

Was yesterday better than today? NO

What were you doing at 12 am last night? In bed doing something on my computer

Who was the last person you hugged? My mom

Do you want to be in a relationship with someone? Idc but if it happens then that’s cool

Are you going to be in a relationship with someone? It could happen but I’m not going to anticipate it or force it