#THEN my clinical date got changed before class started so I had to email her... again and felt so guilty

[mxgyver]

how I'm feeling right now because the first week of my semester just started and I've already had some of my classes changed TWICE

[fridayfirefly]

Retirement

Read Retirement on AO3

Masterlist

For Maribat March Day 21 - Domestic Bliss

The first time Marinette and Garfield ever discussed retirement was before they even started dating. For superheroes, retirement was just a fact of life. One day, if you make it long enough, you'll put down the suit and you'll never pick it up again. Maybe someone will take your place. Hopefully, no one will need to. But no matter how strong you are, not even if you're Superman in his prime, the simple fact was that someday you would retire.

"What do you think you'll do after you retire?" Marinette mused to Garfield. Out of all the Titans, Marinette spent the most time around Gar, simply because the two of them spent a lot of time in the living room. Marinette liked the ambient noise that his video games provided when she worked on her projects, and Gar liked to have someone to talk to while he played. Most of Marinette's current focus was on the embroidery in her hands, as she stitched vines running down the sleeves of her shirt, but she still took the time to start a conversation with Gar.

"I dunno..." Gar glanced up from the game he was playing. "What'll you do once you give up being Ladybug."

"That's a tough question. I used to think that I wanted to run a big fashion company, like Agreste Fashion, but now I think I want something a little more low-key. In my ideal future, I own a little boutique where I make custom clothing. There would be a fabric store and a café on the same block as me, and I would never have to leave the neighborhood."

"That sounds nice. I think I might try going to college and see where that takes me. I applied to Jump City University right before Christmas, and they accepted me. If I went, I would start classes in the fall.”

Marinette’s head jerked up as she gave Gar her full, undivided attention. “I’m going to JCU next fall!” she exclaimed excitedly. “We might have classes together. What are you planning on majoring in?”

Gar shrugged, “JCU has a veterinary program that I'm interested in. I'd be taking animal behavior, biology, chemistry, and a whole bunch of other science classes.”

“That’s so cool!”

“It’s nothing much. I didn’t expect them to accept me, anyway.”

Gar seemed oddly subdued about the idea of going to college. He was a naturally enthusiastic person, which made it very out of character for him to be so dismissive. It worried Marinette. “No, you deserve praise for your accomplishment. Jump City University is a very selective school.”

“I’m not a genius. I’m just me.”

“You’re smart, Gar, I know you are. Getting accepted to JCU is just one of the many reasons why you are brilliant.”

“Are you gonna name them all for me?” joked Gar.

His question was rhetorical, just a joke, but Marinette wasn't finished convincing Gar that he deserved all the praise in the world. “For starters, you can finish any video game in less than a day. Even the ones where you need logic and strategy, you fly right through them. Secondly, you’re a genius when it comes to animals. And it’s not just because of your superpower. You taught yourself animal behavior so that you could blend in with the animals you’re imitating. Thirdly, you pretend not to be invested in politics, but I’ve seen how you keep yourself informed about environmental policies and activism. You really care about the planet. Fourthly-“

"Alright, Buginette,” laughed Gar, a slight blush on his cheeks. “You’ve proven your point.”

Marinette set her embroidery down on the coffee table and moved to Gar's couch. "Is this game multiplayer?"

"Yep. Do you want to play a few rounds?"

"Hmm... I think I could spare a few minutes to kick your butt."

"Please. I'm going to squash you like the little bug you are."

"You wish!"

----------

The next time Marinette and Gar discussed retirement was well after they started dating. They got together in their Junior year at JCU after spending two years in relationship limbo, with both too nervous to make the first move. They finally confessed their feelings for each other after Dick and Starfire locked them in a closet together until they admitted that they liked each other. They graduated college as a couple, with Gar planning on attending veterinary school and Marinette planning on starting up her fashion business. That summer they spent a lot of time talking about the future.

"I've been thinking of recruiting someone to take over as Ladybug," remarked Marinette as she cuddled up next to Gar on the couch.

"Really? Who do you have your eye on?" asked Gar.

"Wonder Woman recently took on a new protege, Cassie Sandsmark. The Ladybug Miraculous already has some connections to Wonder Woman and her home of Themyscira. Her mother, Queen Hippolyta, was a wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous for quite some time."

"If you gave up the Miraculous would you still fight crime?"

Marinette shook her head. "I think it might be time to give up crimefighting. It's been ten years since I took up the Ladybug Miraculous to fight Hawkmoth, and six years since Hawkmoth was defeated. I wasn't ready to give up that responsibility then, but I think I'm ready now."

"When would you give up the Miraculous?"

"Soon. I talked to Wonder Woman about it last week and she's enthusiastic about the idea. I would need to spend some time getting to know Cassie, just to make sure she's a good fit, and Tikki would need to vet her as well, but I have a good feeling that she'll pass any tests of character we put her through." Marinette turned to face Gar. "I didn't want to make any concrete decisions before I talked to you. I know that we've always fought crime together, but I'm ready to move on with my life. I'm ready to retire."

Gar nodded. "I understand and I fully support your decision. I've been considering leaving the Titans as well. I know I could continue living in the Tower and attend veterinary school at JCU, but last week I got an acceptance letter from UC Davis for their School of Veterinary Medicine."

Marinette's eyes widened. "Gar, that's amazing! I remember looking into UC Davis when you were applying, and their program is nationally ranked."

Gar grinned. "The best in the country. It's too good to pass up."

"You have to go!" exclaimed Marinette. "This is your dream!"

"I think I'll send in my acceptance tomorrow," decided Gar. "Maybe we can go to Davis this weekend and scout out an apartment."

"And fabric stores," chimed in Marinette.

Gar laughed. "Anything for you, Buginette."

----------

The final time Marinette and Gar discussed retirement was years later. Marinette and Gar had gotten married and had moved back to Jump City. Marinette opened her fashion boutique, which had very quickly exploded in popularity. Gar started working for a non-profit veterinary clinic, which provided free veterinary services to lower-income neighborhoods. They had both achieved their dreams, and yet neither seemed content with their lives.

"Maybe we just need a change of scenery," suggested Marinette, leaning her head against Gar as they both sat on the beach watching the sunset. "I'm so tired of the city."

"Maybe," said Gar. "It would be nice to have a house with a backyard, rather than just an apartment."

Marinette sighed. "I know that I always said that I wanted to be the owner of a successful boutique, but this wasn't really what I had in mind. I'm so busy that I feel like I never get to spend any time with you anymore. Every day my inbox is filled with emails asking me to sell my company or expand to more locations. I'm tired of it. My passion is for making clothes, not running a business."

"I know how you feel. Every day I encounter another neglectful pet owner who brings their animal to the clinic for help but refuses to listen to me when I tell them that they need to change the way they treat their animal. It's exhausting."

"We could both just quit our jobs and move into the woods," joked Marinette.

Gar nodded, but he wasn't joking. "I've actually been thinking about that. There are a lot of remote regions with a real need for veterinary practices to provide medical assistance for the farm animals out there. I would feel a lot more useful taking care of animals that don't have anyone else."

Marinette turned to face Gar. "I wouldn't mind moving. I've been sending all of the offers to buy my boutique straight to my email archive, but I'm sure if I looked through them all I could find someone who would be able to take care of the business aspect of Ladybug Designs. I could retire from the business and design on my own time, when the inspiration strikes, instead of forcing myself to churn out design after design."

"You really wouldn't mind?" asked Gar, a hopeful look on his face.

Marinette shook her head. "I was serious about moving out of the city. There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while, but I've been waiting for the right moment. I think that moment is now. Gar, I'm pregnant."

The deer-in-the-headlights look on Gar's face was comical, to say the least. Marinette giggled, "Well?"

Gar snapped back to reality, transforming into an elephant, trumpeting his joy. He turned back into himself and wrapped his arms around Marinette. "I'm so happy! This is the best news I could have ever heard, Buginette. Now we have to move. I want our kid to have a backyard and a dog and a big driveway where I can teach them how to ride a bike and a pond where they can swim in the summer-"

Marinette cut Gar off with a kiss. "One thing at a time," she giggled.

"I think this will be the best decision we have ever made," declared Gar.

Marinette agreed. "I think that partial retirement will be good for us."

----------

This was bliss. The feeling of grass under Marinette’s bare feet as she walked back to the house from the lake, hand in hand with Gar. The sound of their daughter's laughter as she danced around them, catching fireflies. The taste of homemade apple pie and vanilla ice cream, eaten rebelliously early as Gar proclaimed, "Dessert before dinner!" The sight of the stars up above them, no light pollution to mask the beauty of the heavens. The sound of Gar's voice, whispering, "I love you, Buginette," into Marinette's ear. And as Marinette settled into her husband's arms, she knew for certain that retirement was the best decision she had ever made.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[albino-whumpee]

Blank Space

An idea came to mind so here. Just gonna say I made a playlist for Albus and Sann on spotify. Here. You can go listen to it here.

Taglist! Hope you liked it! Thank you for reading and sticking by for so long! :D

@castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @crowned-avery @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump  @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70​ @twistedcaretaker

CW// child abuse and domestic violence, children going missing, child neglect, starvation, and useless child services.

“…ller…Mu…”

Someone was calling for him. But there was a ringing on his ears and his head hurt. The cap on his head with the chipped borders, protected him from the annoying white light of the school´s infirmary. He had been sent there during E.P. After he had refused to continue doing sit-ups because of the pain. In the distance, he heard a sigh.

“Serra”

“Don´t call me that” the boy´s lips moved instantly.

The guy with the white lab coat let out a sigh.

“Sorry, Muller. But I can´t do anything if you don´t show me what´s wrong” the boy exhaled, trying to dissimulate how much it pained him to do even that.

“Can´t you feel it above the clothes or something?” the boy tried to negotiate. The shame swallowing whole. The man gave him an exasperated frown as reply. Muller sighed, wetting his lips before putting his hands on the dirty gym shirt. The last tower standing between him and the reality the doctor shouldn´t see. Shouldn´t know. “Please?”

“Muller…” that tone was the signal to drop it. So he braced and lifted it up to the man, straying his eyes to a corner. The man´s eyes turned into brown plates, mouth hanging disgusted at the way his bones looked like they were trying to pop out the thin layer of bruised skin. 

“Oh my god…” he exhaled just before he saw the shirt fall. The man opened his mouth a few times. Like a fish trying to breath out of the water. Gasping for just a bit of precious oxygen. But he was just a man who rubbed the side of his head and leaned on to him with those eyes full of pity he didn´t want. “I know you´re no fighter, Muller. You´re the quiet kid with regular notes. Can you tell me where did you really get those?”

He stayed quiet. Locking his jaw as he breathed in.

If he said the truth it would be worse. It would hurt and not only for him. It would be bad and even worse for Annie. Who was in class. Surely talking with her friends and bragging about the cake he had bought for her birthday. Smiling despite the bandages on her wrist.

He had tried before. To tell someone with authority about his father. He had been hopeful. They had patched him up and let him bath and eat a normal meal. But what happened then was that he was sat in a cold room with a chair in the middle. Talked with a woman that simply took notes, before giving him back to the man they had told him he wouldn´t see again. Just to go straight back home and resume what had made him call child services in the first place.

“I got into a fight” He said.

“Tell me the truth”

“I got into a fight”

“We both know-”

“It won´t change anything if I say the truth or not” Muller said with red eyes lit up in rage.

“Serra…”

“Don´t call me that. I got into a fight and lost. That´s the truth” The ringing on his ears went up. “Just…Just do your damn job and give me something for the pain, doc” the boy said scrunching his eyes, passing a hand over them roughly, in hopes it would end the headache. His dad had grabbed the broom on his hands while he cleaned the living room´s floor of the carpet of beer cans. Said the sound woke him up. So he shoved him to the floor and let it rain down until it broke. Then he had lost interest and gone back to sleep. That´s when he could scramble outside. Forgetting his backpack on the way.

The doctor let out a long, long breath that just made Muller grit his teeth. He finally rolled down to a cabinet. Unlocked it and let his fingers navigate the few pill cases there were. Nothing strong. Nothing that would stop the fear and the pain forever. Just a pill of ibuprofen.

Muller wasn´t amused in the slightest, but it would help. That and a bit of ice on his eye. The doctor put a bag of it on his lap. Taking off the cap, he let his head hang. Letting the cool sensation of the ice wash the pain away.

“Lay down and don´t take the pill just yet, ok? Do you like sandwiches, Muller?” He asked digging on his backpack next to the desk. Taking out his wallet.The boy snapped his healthy eye open going red of embarrassment. Of course, you need to eat something before taking pills and that had happened yesterday afternoon. Around seventeen hours ago.

It vaguely reminded him of Don, the doctor’s clinic where appointments were profusely refused to be paid and the man even gave them his own children’s old clothes. The boy had tried to keep the smell when he did laundry, but it inevitably started to smell like his father at some point.

“Y-yes, Thank you…” he muttered before the man turned to the door. Or tried to, before the albino grabbed his wrist. “Doc, please, don´t tell anybody about this” the man gave him a pained look as the ice bag slipped off his face. “I…Albinos bruise easily…it was just a fight I lost. Please…” Muller hoped it was enough. He was aware he was known among his classmates as a troublemaker. Coming with bruises and scratches almost every day kept people at an arm length. He would use that. He could use it and keep people away from the truth. That he didn´t search for trouble because going back home was enough.

Just so she wouldn´t need to do the same.

The man slowly put away the boy´s hand. “It´s absolutely impossible to call someone, Muller? Child services?” he knelt next to him. Taking the ice pack that had slid to his lap and putting it against his swollen eye. “You don´t have anyone you could stay with? Just for a while?”

The boy´s face went dark. Even as it formed an ironic smile.

“Why would I be here if I had a place like that, Doc?”

—-

When he went back to class, patched up and cradling his ribs, changed into his normal wear from the secret backpack on his locker, to enter art class. He saw a few people muttering something when he came inside the classroom before pulling his cap down. Looking at his red sneakers as he navigated to his seat at the front. Then tried to blink into focus the words on the board.

“Free assignment. High contrast. Acrylics. Due next Wednesday. Be sure to return the materials clean and dry. Be creative!”

Muller sighed slowly. They weren’t sure if they really had a teacher or if they were being given classes by a ghost, as they would have the instructions written on the board and had to leave them on the desk that day or the date written. Receiving their scores through email he had to check on the library.

It was odd, but it was also easier to not be disrupted on the only place he could take his cheap mp3, put the earphones to silence the room and just paint. His moment of full relaxation of the week.

After putting the earphones, he had no idea what to paint, however. He stared at it with a pencil on his hand for a long time, drumming it into his jeans, until an idea came to his head, making him smile. He rolled up the sleeves of his oversized sweater and dipped into sketching light lines over the smooth surface. Halfway through an upbeat song, he felt eyes on him. Brown eyes staring into the purple of his forearm. Not shiny from the cream the doctor had rubbed on it to numb out the pain anymore.

Muller rolled back down the sleeve, pulling his eyes away, before he stood up to grab the paint tubes in the other side of the room. A few girls scooting away as they spotted him. Always looking down, averting his sight from other’s curious eyes.

Two hours of work later, the black paint had reigned over the canvas. He had had to squint harder to get the tiniest little details of it right. Using negative space to frame the silhouette of fruit plate, a candlestick with hanging jewels and a chalice. Leaving them completely white.

A blank space in the immense blackness.

Happy with the result and having played the list four times, he accidentally put the brush with black paint over his cheek. Rubbing it away just smudging it. Letting out a groan, he noticed nobody was there anymore. Had left their half assed paintings on the desk or simply left.

He began to pick up the dirty brushes left from his classmates and went to the sink to clean them thoroughly like always. He didn’t need thanks, but it would be easier if they didn’t try to put out the desperation of the exam periods on the poor brush by smashing them open. There always was one that couldn’t be saved. He was about to throw it out, right when he saw the bruise on his forearms. Going darker in long stripes.

He pressed his lips together as he dipped the brush into the white paint and stroked his arm with it. The cool sensation of the sticky material covering his bruised skin, almost melting into his natural color made him do the same to his other arm.

When he finished it was almost as if he hadn’t fled his house after being hit with a broom that morning. It had been so easy to cover them as it was easy to wipe it off in a rush for the next class. Half finishing up and putting the painting on the desk. Trying to run as fast as he could, when he heard someone coming closer.

The woman saw him scramble outside the classroom as she went in through the other door. She just came in to take the paintings to her car to evaluate, but that time she found herself absorbed on the painting. Taking it into her hands, shocked. Noticing to a smile the same little “A. M.” Painted on the far corner, always there on her favorites of the class. She turned to the door, light brown wavy hair jumping swiftly at the motion.

She put the painting on top of the others as she marched back to the parking spot her old Tsuru was on. She would make sure to arrive early next time and offer him that little place on the students exhibition.

She did wake up early, to most of her disgrace and her co worker’s surprise. She did arrive to class with the announcement of the school’s artistic exhibition, spooking her students and earning groans, but she didn’t see a kid with a white ponytail in oversized clothes. Not the next week, or the one after that.

His painting hanged on large boards among other student’s works, regardless. But he never came back to see it

[captain-ross-poldark]

Another interesting article from the Irish DM.

THE WOMAN WHO FINALLY TAMED POLDARK

By Maeve Quigley

Heartthrob Aidan Turner has a track record of dating co-stars and it seems like he’s finally found his leading lady as it’s revealed he and Caitlin Fitzgerald have tied the knot

THEY were the pictures that broke the hearts of thousands of fans — the dark-haired actor affectionately smooching his new wife on the romantic streets of Rome, as their wedding rings flashed in the warm Italian dusk. After three years of dating, Aidan Turner tied the knot with fellow thespian Caitlin Fitzgerald in a secret ceremony in the Italian capital last summer, although news of the nuptials has just broken.

The pair met on the set of adventure film The Man Who Killed Hitler And Then The Bigfoot and it seems — despite Turner’s previous protestations that he would never date another actress — they couldn’t help falling for each other.

Pictures taken on August 8 show the newlyweds days after tying the knot as they flashed their gold bands while enjoying a romantic al fresco dinner date at Pierluigi’s restaurant in Rome.

In the newly-released images, the loved-up pair seem unable to keep their hands off each other as they sip their drinks, holding on to one another as they gaze into each other’s eyes.

It is believed Fitzgerald also came to Ireland before the pandemic to meet Turner’s extended family — possibly ahead of their big day. Of course, she’s not the first woman with beauty and talent to be seen on the arm of the dashing Dubliner.

But at 37, the man whose shirtless scything in BBC drama Poldark had women everywhere a-quiver is now officially off the market.

Turner was born in Clondalkin, the son of Eileen, an accountant, and Pat, an electrician. He is the youngest of two boys; his brother works for the Revenue.

The family later moved to Walkinstown where growing up he was quite shy so his mum sent him to ballroom dancing classes as she felt it would help him no matter what career he chose. He became quite the champion and could possibly have been headed for an international career before he got bitten by the acting bug when he attended the Gaiety School of Acting, where he dated classmate India Whisker for a short time.

Even then, Turner’s dashing good looks were getting him noticed off stage.

To supplement his acting career, he got a job as a barman in famous Dublin nightclub Lillie’s Bordello, where he proved to be a big hit with the VIP guests

‘Women would come in just to stare at him,’ said former hostess now wellness guru and television presenter Andrea Hayes, who gave the acting student his position behind the bar. ‘I’m not joking.’

His first big acting break came when he landed the part of receptionist Ruairi MacGowan in RTE’s long-running medical drama The Clinic, taking the seat left vacant by another major success story, Chris O’Dowd, who also played a medical administrator on the show.

Around this time he was dating Charlene McKenna. The thenaspiring acting stars were together from 2007 to 2009 and shared a flat together in London before their relationship ended just weeks after McKenna had said in an interview how happy she was.

McKenna has recently got married in secret herself, to actor Adam Rothenburg, with whom she starred in Ripper Street, although she has said she still has a friendship with Turner.

‘He’s flying and I’m so proud of him,’ she said of Turner in a 2016 interview. ‘We still keep in touch and I knew he would do this well for himself. I always told him he would be a movie star.’

While they lived together, Turner landed his breakthrough role as tortured vampire Mitchell in the BBC Three hit Being Human.

Mitchell was torn between his blood lust and doing the right thing and was keen on leather trousers and coats, allowing Turner to smoulder on screen for the first but certainly not the last time.

He managed to gain a cult following from the role — as well as a new girlfriend in the form of his co-star Lenora Critchlow who played a ghost to Turner’s vampire.

When their relationship ended, Turner also chose to quit his role on the show.

But it was Being Human that got him his role in The Hobbit after director Peter Jackson saw him in the show and was struck by his elfin features. He never made it to the elves though, instead playing a dwarf.

And as his star ascended, he began dating another actress, this time Cork-born Sarah Greene. They had been friends for a few years after meeting on the set of Titus Andronicus, directed by Selina Cartmell at Dublin’s Project Arts Centre; but love didn’t blossom until much later.

‘I played Demetrius, her character wasn’t a named character but we met on that,’ Turner said in a magazine interview. ‘It was all very platonic and we never hooked up or anything, but that’s how we got to know each other. Then years later we just met again and it just sort of took off.’

Turner and Greene became the golden couple of the Irish drama scene, both with careers on the rise. They were together when he landed the role of Ross Poldark in the BBC revival of the Cornish drama that became a huge international success.

The fame that came with the role was difficult for both to handle as Turner is not a fan of being seen as a celebrity while Greene hated people taking photographs of her boyfriend while they went about their daily business.

Though then happy in his relationship with Greene, Turner admitted that he had been heartbroken in the past and it was something he was able to channel into his role as the brooding Ross Poldark, a man torn between two women.

‘I don’t know anyone on this planet who hasn’t had their heart broken,’ he told the Radio Times. ‘It’s happened to me. Love is love it’s the purest and rawest thing we have in life.’

As their careers progressed, the couple spent more time apart as Turner was in New Zealand with The Hobbit while Greene was working on projects like Vikings closer to home. But he insisted the distance wasn’t a problem.

‘You meet someone, you fall in love, then you can only see them over Skype or phone calls or texts and emails. And you have this whole other side to your relationship and it’s... it was fun,’ he said in a 2015 interview. He added: ‘We knew we really wanted to be together. And knew if we could do that, we could tackle a lot more. It was never: God, this is hard, bloody hell, we need to review this. This sucks. We never questioned it; it was great. So we had that from the beginning...’

But as the Poldark mania went into overdrive, so did the rumour mill and there were false reports of an engagement and even a secret wedding between himself and Greene. In actual fact the opposite was the case, with the relationship ending in 2015, five years after it started.

Turner then seemed to swear off dating those in the same business, despite his track record. In a press conference for the fourth series of Poldark, he said dating in acting circles meant you could never get away from work, admitting: ‘If you’re in my business and you find somebody who does exactly what you do and you’re living with them, then you’re in the business all the time.

‘You go home, talk about casting directors, you talk about the press, you talk about the next job you’re doing — it can become quite dull and taxing,’ he added.

So instead he was linked to a mystery law graduate, an advertising executive and then the artist Nettie Wakefield, who he dated for around a year before their hectic schedules drove them apart in what was described as an amicable split.

But obviously when he met the stunning blonde Irish-American, Caitlin Fitzgerald, 38, on a film set three years ago, Turner’s new rules went out the window, so bowled over was he by the beauty and talent of his co-star. By the time the film was premiered, the pair already looked smitten, posing on the red carpet together.

Fitzgerald appeared at a concert with Michael Sheen, with whom she starred in Masters of Sex but was seeing Turner at that time and like him, is an intensely private person.

Despite his fame and the stir his bare-chested scything caused, Turner has never been one to chase the celebrity lifestyle — perhaps because of those nights he spent observing celebrities while working behind the bar in Lillie’s.

‘If I allowed myself to let it change my life, it could,’ he has said in the past of his fame. ‘Where there’s celebrity, it’s easy to slip into that — being followed in nightclubs, or dating famous people or getting adverts. I’m just not interested in that stuff.

‘I want to do good work with good actors and filmmakers, read interesting scripts. I didn’t get into this business for celebrity. I did it for my love of film and stories and theatre.’

So although it has now been widely reported that he and Fitzgerald tied the knot in front of his parents Eileen and Pat, neither of them are likely to confirm their nuptials at any stage in the near future.

In fact, the only kissing Turner is likely to talk about is for his role in the film Leonardo, which explores the life and sexuality of Leonardo Da Vinci. In the film we will see Turner as the renaissance artist in a passionate clinch with another man as it explores Da Vinci’s sexuality and his rumoured affair with his apprentice Gian Giacomo Caprotti, better known by his nickname Salai. It is for his art that Turner intends to keep us all guessing as he’d rather we were interested in his roles than his romances.

‘It’s important to me that people don’t know too much about me because I’m trying to play characters,’ he has said in the past

‘Sometimes you see actors who are really good, but you have trouble separating that actor from the celebrity profile.

‘I don’t want to be one of those guys. It helps that people don’t know a lot about me, I guess.’

[loveisblindfanfictionbka]

Love Is Blind: Chapter Three

Marcus smirked as he watched Chris mess with the straw in his drink, “Man, whoever she is has got you messed up bad.”

Chris jerked his head up and frowned in confusion, “huh?”

“You have completely zoned out on me, Bro. What’s going on?”

“Just thinking.”

“So your divorce? What happened?”

“I wasn’t any good for her. It just wasn’t gonna work out.”

“How’d she take it?”

“Not good. I’m surprised she hasn’t put a hit out on me.”

Marcus chuckled, “that woman loves you too much.”

“Loved.”

“Loves. I said what I said.”

“Do you know something I don’t?”

“Do you know she hasn’t dated since your divorce?”

“No. I never bothered to keep up with her.”

“Really?”

“I don’t have the right to. Why keep up with her life if I didn’t have the decency to stay in it?”

“You got a point.”

“So who is the new girl?”

“There is no new girl. Just somebody I’m getting to know.”

“So there is a new girl.”

“No.”

“Chris, we can play with semantics all night but be honest, do you like her?”

“Yes but we’re just friends.”

“For now.”

“She’s still in love with her ex-husband. I’m not in control of my life and neither of us are looking for anything serious.”

“Then what’s the harm in making her your new girl. You both know whats the deal up front.”

“Besides she doesn't want to meet me anyway.”

“You’ve never met?”

“I met her online. I only have a vague idea of what she looks like but we’ve never actually seen each other or spoke to each other.”

“Really? I didn’t know you were into that.”

“I set it up out of boredom but I got lucky with talking to her. She’s really nice.”

“What she do?”

“She’s a Vet. Owns her own clinic and shelter”

“Nice. Is she local?”

“Not sure. I know her business is in the city. Never asked if she lived there or not.”

“Chris, you might know her already.”

“I doubt it besides I think the not knowing her is the best part.”

“No identity, no expectations.”

“Exactly.”

“Well more power to you. Hope you don’t miss out on an amazing woman wanting to be all mysterious and shit.”

“I’m not concerned.”

A: How has your day been?

C: Hectic. My daughter caught the flu so I’m out of commission for the next few days

A: Aww...poor baby. Is this the first time she’s been sick?

C: No so I’m pretty prepared for the theatrics that will be coming my way

A: She’s that kind of kid, huh? Lol

C: Lol regardless of the fact that she’s three, she gets sick and reverts to an infant but I love babying her. Just don’t tell her that

A: Lol, your secret is safe with me

C: How have you been?

A: Good. Finalizing details for this gala a certain someone got me to attend

C: Lol, you made the deal, I just accepted

A: Yea. Whatever.

C: Did you decide on a date for our virtual outing?

A: I mean you have the child

C: It’s not like I’m gonna be leaving my house though

A: That is true

C: Are you nervous?

A: No, it’s not like you’re gonna hear my voice or see me. What’s there to be nervous about?

C: I don’t know I’m asking you

A: Are you free this weekend?

C: 8 pm Saturday?

A: Works for me

C: Cool

A: You know you could’ve just picked a time and told me

C: Yea but it was your idea so your choice

A: Hmm...I guess

C: What you thinking about?

A: If I should send you a sneak peek of my dress

C: You have it already? I thought the gala wasn’t for another month

A: A month goes by fast especially if you own your own business, time is not of the essence

C: Ah, very true. Are we still doing text to speech or?

A: I have some equipment I can use for voice changes. You?

C: I work at a college, I’m sure I can find some

A: Cool

C: Is your voice that distinctive that I’d be able to figure out who you are from hearing it?

A: Yes.

C: Ah, now I’m curious

A: It’s not that I’m worried about knowing you but I’ve been interviewed and stuff before so hearing my voice would definitely be a dead giveaway and ruin the mystery

C: I understand. 

A: Does any of this make you uncomfortable?

C: No. It keeps things simple and uncomplicated. No complaints from me

A: Cool

                                               ~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robyn quickly composed herself as she posed for the picture in front of her phone. The self-timer clicked and she grabbed the device to see her handy work. She smiled at the successful shot. No identifying marks but it captured her body and clothing perfectly. She sat down and logged into her dating app to send the picture to Chris. Not wanting to be consumed with nervousness, she logged out completely before taking off her clothes and heading to take a shower. Their double blind virtual outing was tonight.

Chris smiled as his phone pinged and he clicked on the new message. The long-sleeve navy blue dress hugged every curve of Anna perfectly. She was completely covered but it still felt just as sexy as if she was naked. That was an art. The message read, “I probably could’ve waited a few weeks to send you this but I figured what the hell. What do you think?”

Chris rubbed his hand along his chin then through his hair as he stared at the picture. Was he making a mistake letting this stay just an online thing? Could she really be as amazing as she seemed? Maybe it was just the lust talking. He had sworn off women the past few years so it wasn’t like he had many outlets for any kind of attraction. Anesa was with his sister and cousins for the night while he had his virtual outing with Anna. He really didn’t understand why she just didn’t call it a date but then again they aren’t supposed to be dating so it makes sense.

Robyn shook off any nervousness as she sat down in front of her computer. It was easier to not be tempted to use the camera if she didn’t have one so she decided to use her desktop instead of her laptop. The older monitor was wired for sound but not video. She had emailed Chris a link to the video chat site with its autoset to start at 8pm. She glanced at the cover of the screen and sighed as the clock flipped from 7:59 to 8:00.

“Hi Anna,” an auto generated voice came through her speakers

“Chris, it’s nice to hear your voice.”

Chris laughed, “well something like my voice. How are you?”

“I’m great. You?”

“I’m good. Thank you for the picture.”

“Eh, I was trying it on and thought why not. You never answered my message”

“Well, I knew I was gonna talk to you soon so I figured it’d be easier to say what I was thinking than writing it”

“Ah, so what do you think?”

“I think you look incredible. It’s hard to be sexy and completely covered from neck to toe but you definitely pulled it off.”

“Why thank you. My friend was a little upset that I picked that dress.”

“Why?”

“She thinks I need to show more skin.”

Chris laughed, “well you’re single, no harm in doing that.”

“Single and not trying to mingle though.”

“If you look as amazing in the face as your body does. Nothing short of staying home would keep people, men especially, from trying to talk to you.”

“Oh don’t say that.”

“Why? It’s the truth.”

“Still don’t say it.”

“You’re afraid of dating?”

“No, just not prepared for it. I don’t really want to like anybody else.”

“Not even me.”

“You are a very pleasant and partially unwanted surprise. I don’t think I could not not like you though.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment”

“Good because I meant it as one,” Robyn laughed, “Feel weird yet?”

“Nope. This is a lot easier than typing though.”

“It is. 

“So how was your day?”

“It was good. I had the start of auditions for my upper level songwriting and music composition classes.”

“Really? How do those work?”

“The student either performs live or brings in a recorded piece that they wrote and/or composed.”

“Do they have to be the performer?”

“It is preferable but no. I get my share of duos from time to time.”

“Is it easier to audition as a duo or solo?”

“To me, neither. I try to be equally as hard on all my students.”

“Did you work in the music industry before?”

“Actually no, just a dream deferred, I guess.”

“What about your divorce made you switch careers?”

“Music has always been healing for me. I had no desire to be famous or anything like that but I wanted to deal with music. Teaching did that for me.”

“Were you healing from your marriage?”

“No. My mother had passed away and it just threw my life into a spiral.”

“Were you close?”

“Not like we should’ve been. I was raised by another family member and my mom wasn’t really around most of my life.”

“That’s sad.”

“It’s life. You learn to make the best of it.”

“It doesn’t sound like you did.”

“To be honest, I didn’t at first. I was mad at everything and everybody. I just gave up.”

“And your marriage was a casualty of that.”

“Yup.”

“And you still love her?”

“I don’t want to but I do.”

“I know that feeling. So you were adopted by the family member or they just took you in?”

“Just took me in, nothing official.”

“Oh ok.”

“You have a good relationship with your family?”

“Yea, I think we still sit on different sides of the fence when it comes to my ex but other than that nothing major.”

“Why?”

“They loved him. He was my high school sweetheart so we kind of grew up together.”

“Same here. Do they want you guys to get back together?”

“Absolutely.”

Chris laughed.

“Sometimes I wonder if there were things he told them that he couldn’t tell me.”

“It’s possible. It's easier to open up to somebody you don’t feel responsible for. Men worry a lot about looking weak in front of their spouses. We wonder if women will still trust our judgment if they think we’re more emotional than logical.”

“Any woman worth her medal knows men are more emotional than logical, y’all just like to play with semantics. Just because you don’t deal with your emotions doesn’t mean they don’t exist or magically go away. Y’all just have different methodologies than we do.”

“Were you a therapist in a past life?”

Robyn laughed, “No, I took basic psychology classes in college.”

“Definitely sounds like you took more than the requisite elective.”

“I did. Almost had enough for a minor but I overloaded on vet classes to try to finish my bachelor’s early.”

“Did you?”

“Just a semester early, nothing too major.”

“That’s awesome. Were you always a vet?”

“Actually no. I took a few years off after veterinary school, did a bunch of odd jobs before I came back to my chosen profession.”

“Ah, good deal.”

“It had its perks.”

“How’d your husband feel about that?”

“We weren’t married initially but he didn’t seem to mind even after we did get married. He had a bit of an old school rearing and liked being a provider, I can admit.”

“And all that time you never had children?”

“I don’t think he could’ve emotionally handled children but then again, we might have fought for our marriage more if there were some involved.”

“You think so?”

“We both grew up in separated families, raised by a single parent or guardian. Two parent households weren’t the norm for either of us.”

“Ah ok.”

“We had always maintained the idea of having children once we got married but then we got married and things just didn’t work out. I wanted to try immediately after the ceremony but he kept stalling. First, it was getting his career off the ground then the timing just wasn’t right and by then we were divorced. I don’t think he wanted children with me.”

“You know being a parent isn’t something to take lightly, from what it sounds like it wasn’t you, he just wasn’t ready. At least, he was self aware to know that.”

“And your wife?”

“After the first year, we barely had sex.”

“Were you not attracted to her anymore?”

“I was. I just didn’t really like myself anymore and it made it hard to be physical with her. We had years of having sex and making love. I wasn’t the same so it didn’t feel the same, I felt like I was shortchanging her.”

“Sounds like you made a lot of decisions for her.”

“I know she would’ve stayed if I didn’t leave but I also knew she wasn’t happy. I couldn’t say I love her and subject her to an unhappy marriage, it’s not fair.”

“Why didn’t you just get help?”

“I did that’s what led me to ask for a divorce.”

“Your help told you to get divorced?”

“Not explicitly. My therapist told me that I needed to take time to focus on myself with no distractions. My mother had died, My father showed back up in my life. It just felt like everything was falling apart and then I had my wife. Trying to be supportive but completely unhappy and walking on eggshells. It felt like I was torturing her and I didn’t want us to live like that. I didn’t want her to live like that. When I tried to explain what was going on, it just made everything worse.”

“What you mean?”

“I broke her. In such a short marriage, I broke her and I didn’t know how to undo what I had done. I also wasn’t in the space to undo it. I just wanted to die and I didn’t want her to see that.”

‘Did you try to-”

“It was a week after she had moved out. Complete nervous breakdown.”

“Chris, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was bound to happen. The mind can only take so much before it has to reset itself.”

“Did you tell her?”

“No. I made my family promise not to say anything to anyone either. I made her leave for that exact reason. Sometimes you can just feel when you’ve reached your breaking point.”

“True. So she had no idea?”

“No. If she had, she probably would’ve came back and never went through with the divorce. I didn't want her spending her life fixing my mess, that’s my job.”

“Wow. I appreciate you telling me this.”

“I’m surprised I did. Had this been a year or two ago, I probably would’ve stopped talking to you as soon as you asked about her.”

“Really?”

“Yea. Failure sucks.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound like you failed. It’s not like all avenues had been exhausted.”

“If your ex-husband had did this, would you be so accommodating?”

“If he had actually told me all this happened with him, absolutely. This is so much different than the silence and moping around that I got.”

“What if it wasn’t?”

“I mean I definitely have to get over feeling so betrayed first. Ten years of a relationship and he couldn’t trust me enough to let me in, that’s a hard pill to swallow.”

“Yea but it happens. I imagine my ex-wife would probably feel that exact same way.”

“I might not know you well enough to say this but I really think you should find her and talk to her. The years may have softened her.”

“I don’t think it would be right. I caused her enough issues, the last thing she’d probably want is to be reminded of me.”

“There you go making decisions for her again. You never know until you find out.”

“I guess.”

“Unless you don’t want to find out.”

“What you mean?”

“I think you’re afraid that you really did break her and she never bounced back. I think finding out that she hasn’t moved on scares you more than anything.”

“I-”

“You love her and I don’t think you will ever stop, so you want her to be happy. You want her to have forgotten about you and got everything she ever wanted in life. But if she hasn’t, you’d have to realize that though you did everything to protect her, you made the biggest mistake making her go especially when she didn’t want to. As a woman who’s been there and still there, you didn’t give her a chance to be what you needed because you were so worried about not being what you thought she wanted, even though you never asked.”

Robyn pulled her covers up under her chin as she laid back staring at her ceiling. Talking to Chris, really got her to thinking about her ex-husband. Did something happen to him to make him shut him down? Did he really walk out to save her like he told her? If so, why didn't he trust her to be there for him? At least this Chris is healed but clearly she has a penchant for damaged men. Is she a damaged woman? Did her ex really break her to the point she could never recover?

Chris sat on the phone with Anesa, half listening to her ramble about her day. He was going to go get her from his sister’s house but after talking with Anna, he needed the night to himself, to regroup. He couldn’t say that she was wrong. He never really thought about if his ex-wife was happy or not since he left. At least not out loud. Like what right did he have to shake up her life again after shaking it up in the first place? That’s why he never asked about her. It wasn’t right to be about her life if he made the initiative to walk out of it. Anna really showed him the other side of the situation, it really wasn’t as pretty and hopeful as he thought it would’ve been. He never thought of his divorce as a mistake but did he really ruin something that could’ve been fixed?

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Let’s Talk About Your Hair

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: AU, Peter does a little hop, skip, and jump that’s sudden. There’s some smut and a little bit of angst. That’s about it, though!  Notes: I found @whenstarkerwillbecanon‘s post about May being Peter’s cousin & had to go with it. I loved the prompt, so thank you for that. I tweaked it to fit my writing style, but I hope it’s kind of what you had in mind!  Word Count: ~13.5k Summary: 

A snazzy little AU where Peter and May are cousins. Peter has been in Minnesota for school over the past 6 years and returns to New York to take a job. Going back home means hanging out with his favorite cousin, and when she introduces him to her new boyfriend - he's surprised to see Tony Stark - his ex and long time love - sitting there next to her. Goodness ensues.

Read on AO3 here

6 years ago… 

Peter was 21 and desperately in love. 

Or - the one where Peter gets the shock of a lifetime and yearns away a little bit at a time.Peter was 21 and desperately in love.

Despite the fact that the end of college was quickly approaching and so many decisions needed to be made, Peter felt okay. The pre-med track he took through NYU connected him to his true passion, physical therapy and if all went well, he’d be attending PT school in the fall. His clinical rotations were a lot of fun and he enjoyed working with the patients – especially the younger ones, the dreamy eyes on those kids were a big motivation to chase all  of the things he wanted. Things like his education and the beautiful Tony Stark.

He met Tony in Microbiology lab his sophomore year and they immediately clicked. Tony’s brain was fascinating and the vivid way he lived his life drew Peter in like a moth to a flame. Aside from acing their lab final and coming out of what was rumored to be one of the harder classes in his degree, Peter found himself with a Tony Stark attached to his hip, too. It felt good, being close to someone the way he could be with Tony – the lack of expectation and abundance of goodness made their time together priceless.

For two and a half glorious years, Peter and Tony learned the necessary things to graduate college and mapped out places in each other’s lives. With Howard still running the company, Tony was free to do whatever he wanted, and thankfully – what he wanted included Peter. The prospect of attaining his dreams and keeping the man he loved the most couldn’t be beat. It didn’t matter that there were better PT schools to go to, or that New York was starting to feel a little suffocating – he liked the flow of his life and didn’t want to change it.

Then – Howard Stark died. The entire thing was stupidly sudden, not a single person was prepared for it. Not the board of Stark Industries, and sure as hell not Tony Stark himself. Throughout their time together, Peter met Tony’s dad a handful of times. Each one of the witnessed father-son interactions was forced, boarding on the edge of hostile. There was no love lost between the two of them – Tony’s grief seemed to be based around the loss of his freedom, not the death of his father.

Like every powerful family, Tony walked into a legacy that took things from him in all directions. Between board meetings, R&D presentations, and the terrible Obadiah Stane’s never ceasing presence, it got a little harder to picture that happy ending they’d been planning for. No matter how well he knew the situation, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that things were different. Or, maybe he was just different – he couldn’t really pinpoint the dark bit of energy that sat in the center of his chest and started to collect.

By the end of the semester, Peter was barely getting to see Tony. With  his rotations and the hectic schedule of a young business owner, there wasn’t a lot of time to kick back and relax – to fuck all over the apartment and waste the rest of the day recovering just to go again. In fact, Peter couldn’t remember the last time they even got to fuck. It was petty – deep down, he knew that. Holding anything over Tony’s head when the man was trying to juggle running a business and struggling not to mourn someone he couldn’t help but miss.

Peter didn’t often find himself in a place of selfishness – where he wanted what he wanted, and nothing was going to change that. Yet, he got there, anyway. Applying to Mayo Clinic School of Medical Sciences in Minnesota felt like a little act of rebellion.

He loved Tony too much to ever hurt him in a physical sense, Peter didn’t have any interest in cheating, or anything like that. The card he held removed his presence all together and the closer he got to the point where decisions needed to be made, the more uncertain he felt himself becoming.

About a week before graduation, Peter got his acceptance letter in the mail – the school he actually wanted to attend wanted him back. How interesting a concept that was – he could almost remember when he felt that with Tony. He was lost and that wasn’t anybody’s fault but his own.

The door to their shared apartment opened a couple of minutes later, Tony peaking his head in hours earlier than usual, a smile on his face.

The annual Stark Gala was later that evening and as promised, he’d taken the afternoon off to spend with Peter – their time later that evening would more than likely be very limited. Leaving the letter on the table, Peter got up off the couch and wrapped Tony in a hug. For some reason, tonight felt like the turning point. His heart was already beating out of his chest, Tony’s hands doing things to him without a second thought. Peter wanted to stay – he just wanted to be whole enough to want everything that came with staying more.

The delicate caress of Tony’s hands became distracting no less than a few minutes later – his fingertips digging into Peter’s ass cheeks through his jeans. It’d been a while, so Peter went with it, his arms wrapping around Tony’s neck tightly. Their kisses were hot, like each man could feel the bit of separation between them – Tony clung to him a little tighter and for the first time in a while, Peter felt good. He felt Tony making him feel good.

When he came a little later on with Tony’s name on his lips, Peter relaxed into the bed, a light smile on his lips. They stayed snuggled up together until a knock on the door was sounding and any other thoughts of intimacy were out the window. There wouldn’t be a single moment of peace for the rest of the evening. With one last kiss, Peter got up and out of bed, the haze of happiness rolling off of him.

Later, when he put a bag together and left without saying a word – Peter didn’t realize how blind he’d been. Without him knowing, Tony saw the letter and planned to surprise him with champagne later that evening. He didn’t get to see the other man sitting on the arm of the couch, fisting the bottle – wondering what in the actual fuck happened.

Instead, he got a bus ticket and made his way to Minnesota, his acceptance email to the Mayo Clinic PT school fresh in the sent folder.

For days to come, he would look back and wonder what the hell compelled him to just up and scram – to leave everything behind other than the basic necessities and his favorite picture of him and Tony. Even presently, Peter can’t come up with the greatest reason. He acted on instinct and fled. For whatever reason, he lacked the feeling of completion and needed the space to find out what that meant – and how he could change it..

Present Day

In the six years that he’d been there, Minnesota sort of grew on him. The cold sucked – that’s the first thing he realized when he got there. What he’d been wearing in New York, even in late May, was not appropriate for the small town he walked into after getting off the bus. He did a quick perusal of town and figured it would be as good of a place to start over as any other. Rochester, Minnesota – he remembered he picked the Mayo Clinic PT school there just because it reminded him of New York – he thought it was ironic.

Now, it’d been home away from home for a few years. After getting a pretty decent one-bedroom apartment and a job at the PT clinic within the actual medical school – Peter set up camp pretty quickly. He dropped his New York number and started completely fresh. It tore at his heart, turning off the last line of communication he had with Tony – he’d been ignoring all of his calls and texts, the desperate emails – but he made his decision.

Why not get all the breaking done at once?

He figured the longer he was gone, the easier the heartache would get. It felt deserved, for being callous in the way he just up and left – dropped off the map. The longer it lasted, though, the more Peter started to doubt his decision. School was going great and he loved getting to receive the education he actually wanted – but was it worth the cost?

To try and take his mind off of it, Peter tried to date – as miraculous as that sounded with the busy schedule he kept. A part of him could honestly say he knew going into each date that they were already doomed. He tried – at least, he wanted to say that he did. The new guys were always held up against the highest pedestal, no matter how hard he tried – Peter couldn’t stop seeing Tony, couldn’t keep Tony off his mind. Tony, Tony, Tony.

In the collective whirlwind of time, Peter finished PT school and immediately stepped into a job as a traveling physical therapist. He worked with a couple of the local sports teams in the area and covered their games when in his little jurisdiction. It was satisfying – he got to do a bit of wandering around the state, watch sports in leu of doing an actual job, and it paid well. Yet, the longer he stayed in it, he felt himself getting further from that genuine feeling of happiness.

When it became more effort to get his ass to work and do his job, he figured it was time for a change of scenery.

May’s call came at just the right time, too – Peter dealt with a particularly difficult man-child of a soccer player that morning, his patience frayed and wearing down thinner than he ever thought they could. The buzz in his pocket drew him away from the notes he’d been trying to put together on the athlete, his eyes lighting up when he saw her name.

“May, my favorite cousin! How are you?” Peter said in a way of greeting, his tone warm, voice inviting. Of all the family Peter had left, May was possibly the only person he cared to keep in touch with. Her parents were great for taking him in his last couple of years of high school, but they weren’t his – not like they were May’s.

He heard a chuckle on the other side of the line, her voice never stopping him from smiling, no matter what. “I’m your only cousin, Pete,” she started, the thick sarcasm wrapping the words up, delivering them beautifully. “I’m on to you. I’m good, though – very good. I am also calling with a purpose.” She cleared her throat, the sign that she was serious.

Leaning back in his chair, Peter felt interest flare up within him – May’s suggestions and adventures usually ended up horribly, but they were fun, and they didn’t usually steer him wrong. He rubbed at the scar from their tubing adventure his senior year fondly, the memory one of his favorites to think about. “With a purpose. I’m sure this’ll be good,” Peter remarked, a chuckle leaving his lips, the laugh soothing the sting of truth in his words.

May rolled with it, the eye roll obvious in her next words. “Shut up – you know my ideas are the best. It’s not coming from me this time, though. I got a tip from one of my coworkers that the Nets are looking for a staff PT – thought you might be good for the job.” He felt his breath hitch – he’d been trying to get on with a singular pro team for a while now.

She must have caught the change – her voice excitedly talking again, “Oh, I knew you’d be interested, Petey! I’ll send you the information.” He could practically hear the claps coming down the line, her perpetual ability to be happy both delightful and irritating all at once. Shrugging, Peter didn’t deny that the job looked promising when he clicked on the link to look at the details. Within the hour, he clicked the submit button and sent the damn thing off.

The itch to go to New York was there – now he just needed to scratch it.

Luckily, his resume reigned supreme. During his time in school, Peter did a bunch of outreach with youth sports programs and adult recreation leagues. He took a big internship with Rochester and Oakland University his last two semesters in PT school – if anyone was qualified, it was Peter Parker. And the hiring bodies seemed to agree, after a lengthy Skype interview, Peter was flying out for a quick 24-hour turnaround trip. One in which he came back to Minnesota with a brand-new job and the chance to finally go home.

The move was pretty easy – much like his first trip, he didn’t bring much with him. The team put him up in one of the nicer apartment complexes in Brooklyn, a place that came fully furnished and with a delightful view of the back porches of the 3B patrons. When May came to help him, he could see the grin on her face – the idea of getting done sooner rather than later obvious. They took a look around the box riddled place when they were finished and decided that dinner out was the best way to finish off the night.

There were many things in the city that he missed, but good Thai food ranked pretty high on that list (that and Tony – but he wasn’t about to go and tell anyone that.) Settling into the low-lit booth of the place they found right down the street from Peter’s apartment, he let out a long sigh. “It feels good to finally not be moving. I feel like I haven’t stopped since I got here yesterday,” Peter fiddled with the silverware in front of him, a smile on his lips.

“I’m just glad you didn’t have more stuff to move around. The ER was hopping last night, so I’ve been feeling more tired than usual today,” she placed a hand over his, her touch stopping the restless fretting. “I’m really glad you’re here, Pete. It’s been weird in the city without you.” Her red lips pulled into a grin, eyes twinkling.

Peter dropped the utensils and turned his hands, surrounding May’s with his own. “I’m glad to be here, too. Disappearing like I did was stupid – “ he stopped, breath catching a little. So stupid, he thought to himself. May was in college when he left, her own experience just starting to get off the ground. She didn’t even know anything about him during that time – no matter how ‘close’ they were. “I’m happy to be back. And in Brooklyn – who would have thought?”

They chatted until the food came – the world narrowing down to noodles, deliciousness, and not much else for Peter. She might have been talking at him, but he wasn’t listening. For the first time in years, it felt like being at home. This wasn’t Pho’s from down the street in Queens, it wasn’t the best he’d ever eaten, either – but it felt familiar. He’d been missing familiarity for a while now, that realization hitting him harder than he figured.

Self-induced isolation could do that to a person.

As he finished up, Peter clued back into the conversation, his eyes watching May gesture through the rest of her story before he met her glance. “I didn’t hear a word of what you said. Sorry,” he admitted, his mind split in a million different directions. New York brought back so many things – memories and wants. Trying to pay attention to May was proving difficult.

“I said you have to meet the guy I’ve been seeing. It’s pretty new, but I like him. He’s unique and smart and sort of weird – but who isn’t these days?” May repeated, her cheeks flushed. “We’re going to meet at Sully’s in Manhattan. You know the old place.” She waved at him nonchalantly – like they’d spent so much time there over the years. He remembered taking her with him during her first winter break and hadn’t been back since.

Chomping down on those words, Peter shot her a sheepish grin – “I’m not going to be a third wheel, am I?” Peter questioned, his tone light, but the question serious. He hadn’t been successful in his own dating life in a while – the last thing he wanted to do was watch May get her flirt on for too long.

She shook her head, eyes bright – the pure shininess of her personality a little overwhelming, especially right that moment. He dropped a hand beneath the table and clenched it into a fist – the countdown backwards from ten starting (ten-nine-eight…) in his head. The tightness left quickly, but he felt a little rattled – his patience still on the wrong side of thin. “I promise that you won’t be.”

He took her at that and reluctantly agreed, his inability to say no to her something he needed to work on now that they were back in the same place again. Peter Parker grew into a respectable adult – he could put his foot down when necessary. Maybe. He hoped.

The next afternoon, Peter left his brand-new office and grabbed a cab – the process still as exhilarating as ever. At least he’d grown in his absence and the vehicles actually saw him when he waved from the curbside. Minnesota didn’t have the same hustle and bustle – so the luxury and relative newness kept him staring out the window the entire drive. The upscale buildings made his heart race a little – the reaction another clue telling him he was home.

The little café looked exactly the same as it did in his memory – upscale with a side of hipster. They tried to make the record player in the corner look vintage, but the current technology couldn’t be disguised. The Upper East Side had standards after all. He took a second to catch his bearings before approaching May and the dark-haired man sitting next to her. The particular color struck him as familiar – but then again, who the fuck was he?

Like she knew he was there, May turned to look over his shoulder and caught his eyes, her token smile pulling today’s pink coated lips up, causing a swift crease by both of her eyes. “There he is,” he made out, a hand coming up in a slight wave.

And then – he stopped in his tracks.

The man who turned to look in the same direction as May wasn’t just any man – no – his beautiful cousin was dating the one person Peter could honestly say he missed more than ever. His Tony – well, not really his anymore. Obviously. His heart wanted to jump out of his chest and run over there, every part of him paralyzed except for that particular muscle.

His mouth watered and for a second, he thought about turning right around and getting the hell out of dodge before something went wrong – before he lost control and got down on his knees to beg the man for forgiveness. The thought was so fucking enticing, especially when his eyes finally caught gorgeous amber honey eyes, the look there a mixture of surprise, excitement, and hurt. Gulping in a big breath of air, Peter forced himself to keep walking.

He could do this.

Rounding in on the table, Peter stayed on his feet next to the other open chair at the table – the idea of running still sitting in the forefront of his mind. May reached a hand over and patted his, the touch he figured was supposed to be comforting – instead, it made his skin itch. How dare she – ! And then it hit him that he didn’t have a singular right to feel that way. Guiltily, he flipped his hand over and gripped hers, the skin soft under his own calloused palm calming.

“I’m glad you made it,” she said genuinely. “Babe, this is – “ May started to say, her hand drawing back from Peter to pat against her boyfriend’s arm, his gaze fixing on Peter’s once again.

“I’m Peter, May’s cousin,” Peter blurted out, his hand shooting into the space between them. He felt like an idiot, a total loser still standing with his hand out and the single most confused look on his face. He didn’t need to see his own expression to know how freaked he look – he could feel the way his stomach was trying to drop out of his asshole.

A warm hand gripped his own a couple seconds later, the hold firm, the touch familiar. The natural chemistry between them swallowed Peter whole – his hand on fire and the arm attach to it numb and the chest attached to it trying it’s best to collapse in. The audacity of his body to be so mutinous – fuck the littlest bit of joy that settled over him. But god, he’d missed this man.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Tony, the boyfriend.” Tony shot him the still recognizable shit eating grin – his hand keeping Peter’s in the tight hold for another couple of heartbeats, each one dragging him down further and further. What were the odds? How could this possibly be happening? Chuckling, Peter covered up his freak out by dropping Tony’s hand and finally taking the seat he’d been standing by.

For a second, it seemed like May could read the tension suddenly infiltrating the room. Her eyes roamed between the two of them, eyelids narrowed. Then, she tilted her head and smiled sheepishly – “Great, now that’s over with – I’m going to grab some coffee. You two get to know each other.”

Peter shot her a look, the silent plea in his eyes obviously not recognizable – she merely nodded her head towards Tony and turned around, the conversation obviously over.

That same hand from before touching his made Peter glance up quickly, his eyes wide. Now that he wasn’t being watched directly, Peter took a second to really look at the man across from him. There didn’t seem to be any signs of aging, Tony’s face was smooth, aside from the goatee he’d only been nursing when Peter was around. His eyes were still that deep brown, the heavy wave of their darkness never failing to pull him in. His hair was a little longer – like he’d purposely been trying to grow it out.

Time was very kind to Tony Stark – so kind, in fact, that Peter could easily admit he was even more handsome than 6 years ago, a feat that didn’t seem fair. The hand didn’t move during his perusal, though the fingers attached to it did start to roam over the skin of his palm. The mechanism Tony used all those years ago to bring Peter back to the present. Blinking away the thoughts, Peter forced himself to teether to the spot, this next interaction one he probably didn’t want to miss.

“My May, Tony?” Peter ended up saying after a few more heartbeats of Tony tracing the lines of his palm, the familiar touch so goddamn soothing. There wasn’t much else to say – not when there were so many things unsaid, so many things that Peter wanted to explain, and by the looks of it – Tony felt the same way. Glancing over, Peter sighed with a sort of relief when he noticed May completely engrossed in the drink board, her fingers playing with her lip.

The deep vibrato of Tony’s laugh shot a tingle down the middle of his spine – his body not taking long to once again tune itself to the delicacies that were Tony Stark. He balled his right hand into a fist, a blinding hope that out of all the times he’d done it, this would be the time it actually allowed him to relax. No dice, though – Peter almost melted into a puddle when Tony started to speak.

“I didn’t even know you had a May, Pete. I was supposed to meet your family when they came in for graduation – but you know how well that went,” Tony pointed out, his hand drawing back now, the man knowing he had Peter’s full attention. “I’m just as surprised about this as you are.”

Peter could tell, too. There was a sort of vulnerability in Tony’s eyes that even in all their time together, Peter didn’t get to see often. For a second, he wondered if May knew that look – if she understood the gift she was being given. It took him way too long to realize Tony was a man of simplicity who gave affection the only way he could – with subtlety and in the littlest of ways. Oh, how he’d taken those little things for granted.

“I can’t believe it’s you that I’m sitting here with right now. Of all the people in New York,” Peter muttered, his hands spinning the pile of coasters sitting on the table. He couldn’t, either – it felt like the universe’s way of slapping him in the face. The karmic retribution for being a total fucking asshole to someone who in the end, didn’t deserve it – not a single bit.

Tony laughed then, his upper body adjusting against the back of the chair, his arm slinging over the back of the chair, resting there like this was some casual meeting, like just looking at him in such an open position wasn’t killing Peter from the inside out. Or maybe Tony knew exactly what he was doing to him, each move calculated to get the biggest bang for his buck – to pull the reactions from Peter and watch him squirm.

Either way – Peter couldn’t tear his eyes away. The thought of running coursed through his head again, this time to save himself the humiliation of this – this situation that could not go anywhere but further and further into the garbage. May didn’t know anything about their shared past, though – she wouldn’t understand the immediate need to get the hell out of dodge and avoid her for the next however long. Preferably long enough for her to no longer be dating Tony, but he didn’t get to decide that little detail.

“Sorry to disappoint,” Tony finally uttered, a smirk on his lips – he was trying for snark, for aloof and uninterested. Peter could see the way he glanced at him, though – his rebuttal the guiding hand for their interactions from here on out.

Peter took the bait, the part of him that still belonged to Tony speaking before his brain could get in on the action. “I’m not disappointed. It’s so good to see you. You look amazing,” Peter prattled off, his restless hands spinning one of the coasters from the pile between his fingers. “I’m far from disappointed, Tony.”

He didn’t know how true that was, either, not until he heard the words for himself. Despite May being the person Tony sat next to, it immediately felt good to be in his presence. Like simply being in his orbit set things right, the magnetic field surrounding him finally put back into the correct position. The brunette across from him should have a piece in his life – the fact that he accidently walked into it a second time sign enough.

They didn’t get to talk for any longer after that, May brought over three coffees and sat down, the woman immediately starting in on her babbling – he forgot how much she could talk and how passionate she could be when she did. Peter didn’t stay much longer, the thought of sticking around to witness anything coupley between them making his stomach turn.

After making his escape, Peter walked for a while, the haze of Tony Stark and all he’d been to him bringing him under. When he eventually caught a cab home, it was well into the evening – he passed the whole day away thinking about a man from his past, someone who he felt like he had unfinished business with.

----

In an attempt to forget that entire meeting existed, Peter went out of his way to avoid May – with his job starting up and the season just coming to an end, it was easier than he figured it was going to be. There weren’t a lot of things for him to do, yet – but he enjoyed getting to know some of the athletes and familiarizing himself with the facilities equipment. It far surpassed the places he’d been conducting his rehabs in before.

There was no forgetting Tony Stark, he understood that after years of trying to clear his brain of the man – but maybe he could avoid dealing with him and the unsettling and unmoving feelings that were settling in again, taking root. He loved May and he knew enough about family code to keep his distance and remove himself from a situation that could get very bad, very quick.

It sort of worked, too – sooner than expected, Peter finished his first month in the city. Most of his apartment was put together and he finally felt settled in at his job. They team was on a little break, which meant he also got to take some time for himself – a thing he thought he might actually enjoy. There hadn’t been time for vacations over the past couple of years, surviving came first.

About to settle in for a nap, Peter sat straight up when his phone vibrated, the notification that “Maybe: Tony Stark” was texting him stealing all the air from his lungs. Throwing the phone down like it burnt him, Peter forced himself into a comfortable position and drew in long breathes, his chest so goddamn tight, it felt like he couldn’t breathe. Finally able to use his brain to think and not just perform simple bodily functions (like breathing,) Peter picked up the phone again, his hands trembling.

Maybe: Tony Stark [2:26PM]: PICTURE MESSAGE Maybe: Tony Stark [2:27PM]: Do you remember Dum-E? He got an upgrade.

Peter lost his shit when he saw the picture, Tony’s prized robot was flipping him the finger, his traditional DUNCE cap sitting proudly on the top of its head. He pressed on the image to zoom in, the articulation of the joint almost spot on. Saving Tony’s contact, he moved to reply. It was against his better judgement – he shouldn’t even be thinking about it. But – he was weak. Peter didn’t have any trouble admitting that.

Peter Parker [2:31PM]: Tony Stark – did you teach your robot how to throw the bird just for me? Peter Parker [2:33PM]: Glad to see you’re still as elegant as ever.

He put his phone face down on the couch and forced himself up – his stomach growling all of the sudden. In times of desperation and nervousness, Peter didn’t get sick to his stomach. No, he felt the need to eat everything in sight, instead. The crumbled carcasses of 4 Doritos bags were already sitting on his counter, the evidence of his emotion fueled binges staring him straight in the face. Deciding on something healthier, Peter brought a bowl of cereal back to the couch with him. Finally letting himself look at the phone again, Peter got lost in the back and forth for a while.

Tony Stark [2:39PM]: Anything for you, Petey. Tony Stark [2:41PM]: I was just telling him about our little reunion, he wanted to show you how much he missed you. Tony Stark [2:42PM]: Still can’t believe that’s how you walked back into my life.

Peter Parker [2:45PM]: You two are such gems. Peter Parker [2:46PM]: That makes two of us. Peter Parker [2:47PM]: I am the king of great timing.

Tony Stark [2:50PM]: I am a delicate ruby, you’re absolutely correct. Tony Stark [2:51PM]: I literally just laughed out loud. It’s a good thing my private lab is y’know – private. Tony Stark [2:53PM]: You’re actually a huge dick with the worst timing.

Peter Parker [3:00PM]: You’d be a delicate opal, don’t lie. Peter Parker [3:01PM]: Are we talking about my dick now? Peter Parker [3:03PM]: In all seriousness, I know. I am. I’ll admit it. It probably doesn’t mean much, but I am sorry. Peter Parker [3:05PM]: Very.

Tony Stark [3:15PM]: I’ll take that as a compliment, Peter. Opals are multi-faceted. Tony Stark [3:17PM]: You started it. Tony Stark [3:18PM]: It doesn’t – mean much. I do accept it, though. Your apology. Tony Stark [3:20PM]: I knew where you went the second I saw the Mayo Clinic letter still sitting there. I wish you just told me, instead.

That last text message made Peter pause, his hand coming up to press against his mouth – the gesture a dashed attempt at keeping the gasp from falling from his lips. He never considered that, the fact that Tony would have simply gave him a hug and congratulated him. Peter took the strain and stress of Tony figuring out how to step into big shoes as something completely different, a lot bleaker. Maybe, at the time, he let it be an excuse, too.

There was a desperate sort of hatred for himself whenever he thought about what he did. On the other hand, Peter knew the only way he was going to grow was to get out and do it. There were obviously better ways to go about it – but he couldn’t change that now. The fact that May was dating the man he loved so much and treated so dirty – it all kind of made a twisted sort of sense.

Peter Parker [3:35PM]: It was a compliment. Peter Parker [3:36PM]: I did – it’s nice, I have to be proud when I can. Peter Parker [3:38PM]: Thank you – that’s all that I can ask for. Peter Parker [3:41PM]: I don’t have a good excuse as to why I didn’t. You were doing your thing, I didn’t think – I just went and did the same. Peter Parker [3:45PM]: I needed to figured things out – and I did exactly that. Just – a little too late.

When he didn’t get a response after that, Peter wasn’t all that surprised. Typing the words out felt lame and he knew there’d been no justice or retribution. At this point in either of their lives, it didn’t seem prudent for there to be – Tony had May, even if it still weirded him out a little bit to think about it. Peter made his decision six years ago, choosing himself over everything else. The least he could do was stand by that.

Making up excuses that would never explain the density of his want to figure himself out before he gave himself completely to another. And, wow did he want to give himself completely to Tony. Of course, there were better ways to go about it – there were much better ways. Stepping away from the situation, he formulated twenty, thirty – tons. Yet, Peter wasn’t sure he would have been able to pull off any of them without chickening out.

So – he dealt with the consequence. Hurting the person he loved the most, watching him with his cousin, feeling just the slightest bit incomplete – that was his penance. At least he knew he did the right thing for him. When the right person came around, no matter how much he wanted it to be Tony, he could genuinely and honestly be in it – giving himself would be so very easy. That thought made him just a bit more content – even if it didn’t keep him warm at night, it kept him sane.

The next couple of weeks went by quickly – he spent the days he didn’t go into the office wandering around the city, his heart truly full now that he was back. There truly was no place like home. When Ned and MJ found out he was back, they got together a couple times a week just to hangout and catch up. Ned worked for a computer engineering company and got to enjoy the spoils of his youth behind the keys. MJ taught at Midtown and came packed with the best gossip.

One night in the middle of June, the three of them were gathered around Peter’s coffee table, the remains of Chinese food scattered around. Peter had been in the city for four months now – each one better than the next. It felt good to be able to do what he wanted – to be able to afford copious amounts of food and stupid movies on DirectTV. They were watching the newest Men in Black when Peter’s phone vibrated. A soft smile slipped across his face when he noticed it was Tony.

For the first couple of days, it felt weird to be texting Tony so much. Tony sent him another message out of the blue the very next day that broke the weird spell of the past they decided to dredge up – and they’d been texting ever since. It remained casual – despite the vibe that Tony wouldn’t mind if it did. Peter wouldn’t, either – if he were being completely honest. But, May deserved more than that.

Glancing down at his phone, Peter felt his smile grow – Tony’s initial jump into conversation was always off the wall, always completely random.

Tony Stark [8:01PM]: Did you know that the state sport in Maryland is jousting? Tony Stark [8:03PM]: Like, legit medieval era shit.

Peter couldn’t hold back the laugh, despite not wanting to give himself away. He wasn’t ready to talk about any of it with anyone – but he’d already been caught out, MJ was too smart for her own good. “What, or I guess who, has got you smiling like that?” she quirked a brow at him, the lady like a bloodhound sniffing out a scent.

Biting into his bottom lip, Peter didn’t answer for a few seconds – his fingers too busy sending off a reply.

Peter Parker [8:07PM]: I did not know that. I’ve been to a Renaissance festival, so I’ve seen it – I couldn���t imagine that being a very practical sport, however. Peter Parker [8:08PM]: Did you find that on the back of a Laffy Taffy wrapper?

A warm feeling settled within him, the ease in which he could talk to Tony hadn’t gone anywhere – even with 6 years and a ton of baggage between them. Finally glancing up at MJ, he took a deep breath, the news he was about to give something that would probably confuse the fuck out of her. She was the only one he told about leaving for Minnesota, she knew how big of a deal it was to disappear like he did.

“It’s Tony,” Peter mumbled, his face heating, though his eyes never wavered.

In true Ned style, he jumped into the conversation randomly, his voice echoing around the room. “You mean like – Tony Stark? The Tony?” he asked, his entire body shifting, his attention now on Peter and MJ completely.

Blushing further, Peter nodded – his fingers brushing through his hair as he did. “The one and only. It’s weird – he’s dating May and I know that. And things are strictly friendly between us – but it could easily be something else.”

MJ moved a little closer, a hand pressing into his thigh. “I always thought it was a little weird that you were dating the golden boy. And when you left – I thought maybe that was the end. I don’t know, Peter – I hope you’re thinking about what you’re doing,” her voice sounded concerned, his heart warming a little at the sentiment.

“I am – I’m thinking about it, pretty frequently, actually. The last time I saw May, she didn’t talk about him much or bring him up at all, really. I can’t tell – but nothing is going to happen while he’s with May. Maybe he’ll stay with her, who knows,” Peter started to ramble, so he shut his mouth, his thoughts so scattered on the matter. Things were so natural, so easy – it made the whole situation a whole lot more confusing.

MJ brushed her long hair out of her face, an indifferent look in her eyes. From the get-go with Tony, MJ took that approach. She kept herself in it just enough to be a shoulder that Peter could lean against. “You’ll never convince me that he’s the great guy you say he is, but whatever you decide – I support you. Just don’t fuck up your relationship with May, we all know how important that is to you.” MJ stated, her eyes doing the smiling for her. She turned back to the TV and said nothing more.

As always, Ned followed suit. Shaking his head at the group antics, Peter shifted his focus back to his phone, his conversation with Tony completely absorbing him for the rest of the movie. He’d seen the movie before, anyway – the end was the only part that was really worth watching.

A couple hours later, MJ and Ned filed out of his apartment – Ned lightly punching his arm and MJ pulling him into a hug. She kept him in her arms for an extra second, her grip tight. “Be careful, okay? Can’t have you running away again.” Her words were whispered and driven home by the softest press of a kiss to his cheek.

He closed the door and leaned against it, the flurry of emotions from the evening hitting him – making everything he’d been thinking about magnifying tenfold. Nights with his friends were always fun, but stupidly exhausting – especially when MJ got into detective mode. In any other case, the details would have gladly come out of his mouth – it was nice to have friends he that he knew kept secrets like the pros that they were.

The collective thought of Tony still made him feel a bit raw. Like the wound could heal – he just didn’t know what the remedy was. A part of him knew he was dancing with the line, keeping his conversations with Tony going. Another part figured that they were both adults and could make sound decisions. Tony understood what he was doing just as well as Peter.

Which is why he was surprised to hear a knock on his door about ten minutes later. Checking his phone, he didn’t see a text from either Ned or MJ – though, it wouldn’t shock him if they just came stomping back in. At least they decided to knock instead of using his not so well-hidden spare key.

Pulling open the door, he started to speak, his mouth moving before his eyes bothered to take in what was in front of them. “What’d you guys forget – “ Peter picked up his head while he spoke, a soft smile on his face. Realizing who actually stood there, Peter straightened up, brown eyes wide. “Tony?”

Taken aback, Peter wondered for a second how the hell the man even found him. Though, he quickly realized he was dealing with a technology genius. He could also recall a conversation about an AI that dealt with most of Tony’s affairs. Licking his lips, Peter desperately tried to cure his dry mouth – just the sight of the other man enough to sweep his feet out from under him. He ran a hand through his hair, the strands still sticking up from earlier.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony started, one of his hands pressing into the doorframe, his body only a foot or so away from Peter’s. The tightness in his chest made him want to buckle in on himself – the feeling way too fucking much. He watched Tony draw in a deep breath, his eyes murky with a gale of emotions. “Jarvis told me where you lived. I hope it’s okay.”

And just like that, Peter was stepping back from the door, the both of them hovering in the hallway, the space between them narrowed down even more now. “It’s okay – it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t doing crazy shit like that.” He let a light laugh leave his lips, the exhalation of breath doing nothing to ease the tension inside of him. “Why are you – why are you here?”

Tony straightened his posture at the question, the softness in his eyes hardening a little. So – they were going to have a serious talk, then. Crossing his arms, Peter steeled himself for whatever Tony had to say. In all of the time they’d been reconnecting – this conversation never made its way back to the surface, at least, not until this very moment.

He watched color spread over the top of Tony’s cheeks, eyes dropping to look at their feet. “I always wondered when you stopped loving me. I told myself that’s what happened – because it made it easier to accept that you left. You didn’t though, did you? Stop. You’re just a selfish prick,” Tony got out, his words harsh, despite the soft tone they were delivered in. “I thought – maybe we could be friends. There’s been enough time for the hurts in my heart to be patched. I got over it a long time ago. I did not take into account, however – how I didn’t get over you.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut – not because he didn’t want to hear them. Oh, no – he’d been longing to hear those words for years now. Digging himself into a hole didn’t have to mean certain death – he thought maybe he could find his way back to Tony someday. The damage came from the fact that, despite the immensity of want coursing through him, Peter couldn’t act – wouldn’t.

“You haven’t said a singular false statement, Tony. I never stopped loving you. I took the only out I could find – you finding yourself and giving more and more of your time to it – and decided I needed to do the same. Once I mustered the courage, I knew it would be the only time, so I left. I wouldn’t have left otherwise. You, me – we deserve this Peter, the one who knows what he wants and can make it happen. I’m just – the king of bad timing,” Peter whispered the last few words, the reality of them feeling like the final smackdown.

A silence settled between them then, the tension in the room coming to a head. Thinking about it later, he couldn’t decide who made the move first – all of the sudden, Peter was wrapped up in Tony’s arms and they were kissing – kissing like their fucking lives depended on it. He felt long fingers slid into his hair and tug, the warm press of Tony’s torso against his own absolutely divine. His own arms wrapped around Tony’s middle, his body on fire from that simple little touch.

The inability to think kept him under the haze of their joined passion, his lips moving without thought or hesitancy. Tony’s tongue plunged into his mouth and Peter hung on for dear life, his own head tilting to deepen the kiss even further. His chest burnt from the lack of oxygen, but he couldn’t pull away – the second the high of his skin against Tony’s left, Peter’s conscience would reign supreme again.

Tony’s chocked off moan snapped the delicate spell controlling them, Peter’s body on fire, his mind all over the place. “Fuck. Stop – Tony. We have to stop,” Peter mumbled, his hands moving from the solid flanks of Tony’s sides to the bulk of his shirt, fingers digging in. “We can’t do this.” Even as the words were coming out of his mouth, he felt himself leaning in, his nose dragging over Tony’s. “This isn’t rejection – I just can’t. Not when you’re with May. I refuse to hurt her like that,” he pressed a final kiss to Tony’s lips and forced himself away – chest still heaving.

Both of Tony’s hands came up in surrender, the look in his eye resolute. “You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry, Pete – I shouldn’t have come here like this.” He kept his glance tied to Peter’s, the other man still so easy to read – his hurt and confusion written plain as day.

“It’s okay, Tony. It’s okay.” Peter didn’t know what he was saying was okay, or even if it was – but the need to soothe took over. He reached forward and palmed Tony’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the arch there.

For a second, Tony leaned into the touch, the bourbon color of his eyes buried under closed eyelids. Peter trailed his finger back and forth, the digit moving until he felt a breath of air against his forearm and Tony was pulling away. He didn’t say anything, he simply opened the door and walked through it. His eyes trailed after the other man until he was down the hallway and out of sight.

This time, he shut the door and slid down it – his head falling into his hands.

----

Never prescribing to the age old ‘when it rains, it pours’ thing, Peter wasn’t expecting the knock on his door early the next morning. After Tony left, Peter barely made it to the couch before passing out into a fitful sleep. Between tossing, turning, and a mind that didn’t want to slow down and stop – Peter could count on two fingers how many hours of complete sleep he got. Sitting up, Peter looked groggily around the room, the disturbance in his sleep something he thought he might have dreamed up until another knock sounded.

“Peter, I know you’re home! I can see your open porch door from the street.” May’s voice was the last thing he figured he’d be hearing. The taste of Tony still lingered on his lips – Tony’s stubble making the skin above them a little raw, too. How in the world could he face May right now – when he hadn’t even had time to process what happened, or how he reacted, or even how Tony reacted.

Grumbling, Peter got up off the couch, his feet heavy in their steps towards the door. It felt like he spent the night before getting completely wasted, yet he didn’t have a singular sip. A couple of quick runs of his fingers through his hair and Peter finally felt ready to pull open the door and face whatever might come his way. Even if it was terrible.

Peter took a couple of deep breaths, his hand not wanting to move to actually get the damn door open. He braced himself, the idea that he might take a hand to the face or harsh words thrown his way that would eclipse him. There was nothing, though. May simply looked at him, two to-go coffee cups in her hands. “Are you going to let me in?” she asked, her voice neutral, the look in her eye hard to read.

He took a step back quickly, his arm sweeping wide. “Hi May, yes – please come in. I just got up, so my brain still isn’t working all that well.” It would have sounded like an excuse if he weren’t still shirtless with marks from the couch all over his right side. He stepped back further, the space now more of an open invitation that May took gracefully.

If this were a social call, they would have wandered to his makeshift bed of a couch and sat down – his cousin’s hands already moving to take the remote and put on whatever show she was currently addicted to. She would have jammed the coffee she was holding into the thickness of his chest, the joke of almost scolding him something they’d been doing since Peter came to stay with May and her family. The atmosphere would have been a little bit more accepting.

Yet, none of those things happened. May put his coffee cup on the middle of his kitchen table and sat down in one of the chairs. Knowing how different things would have been, Peter didn’t hesitate to take the seat opposite her, his hands wrapping around the warm to-go cup on instinct. He didn’t even take a second to put a shirt on – he simply sat down and waited, each second that past like a sweet torture.

Eventually, she pulled her phone out and started to flip through it, a concentrated look on her face. Finding what she needed, May pushed the phone over towards him. He took it a little hesitantly, his mind wandering around all of the possible things that could be on that phone. There wasn’t anyone else around when Tony came here last night – so with that, at least, they were in the clear.

His breath caught, though – the photo on her screen one he knew with familiarity, one that he glanced at more times than he cared to remember. The memory of the day the picture was taken still sat fresh in his mind. They were at Tony’s place, probably about a year into their relationship. They were celebrating the end of the semester and people were everywhere – the streaks and blurs in the background their friends caught in a second of chaos. Peter and Tony were in the middle of a conversation when MJ called over – “Snuggle up, love birds – let me take a picture.”

Peter could still remember how quickly Tony stepped up behind him, arms embracing without hesitation. They both beamed at the camera, the smiles on their faces so genuine. What Peter liked the most about it, though, was the fact that MJ caught them a second before they looked back at each other.

Peter’s face was turned as if he were trying to look over his shoulder, his smile bright and big but eyes oriented in Tony’s direction. The hand on his chest was splayed open wide, Tony’s fingers one of the main focuses in it. The look on Tony’s face showed affection and happiness – but most importantly, love.

MJ gave it to them both in a frame a couple of days later, the gorgeousness of it something that even she couldn’t deny.

Eyes a little watery, Peter looked up from the phone and over at May, a questioning look in his eye. “Where did you even find this?” Peter knew for a fact that his copy was tucked into the box in his closet – one in which he only allowed himself to go through every now and again, one that he specifically brought in and put away himself.

“It’s in Tony’s lab. We were supposed to meet for lunch a few weeks ago, but he couldn’t leave, so I met him there. He left for a minute to get cleaned up, so I snooped – because why not, right? There are a couple of the two of you, but that one is right in the middle of his workspace. He told me a little bit about this epic love he still wasn’t really over, and it never once crossed my mind that it was with you.” May stopped then, her hands reached across the table for his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

The soft touch of her hands felt like a drastic juxtaposition to the raging war of emotions keeping him right on the edge of panic. As a distraction, he watched her thumbs brush against his hands, the movement hypnotic, easy to get lost in. The lull seemed to help calm him a little – Peter glanced back up at her, apprehension still so very visible.

“I didn’t treat him well at the end. For a while, it was nice to have this thing that was all my own. And when it got serious, I freaked a little. I ran away because I felt too much. It was easier not to acknowledge it out loud – because telling you about him made the selfish thing I did a lot more real. It took a while to find me and then a while after that to cope with how big of a dick I am.” He paused then, taking a long breath.

“I never thought I’d see him again – never. Then, he’s sitting next to you and everything I have neglected for six years suddenly hit me square in the face. May, you seemed happy – I’ve been selfish enough,” Peter knew he had to get all of that out, or he probably wouldn’t, the acknowledgement of so many things harder than he ever imagined possible.

He gripped her hands, pulling them towards him a little. “The last thing I want to do is hurt you.” And that was the truth. Regardless of how badly he handled other things, Peter couldn’t be careless with something like that – May and her feelings. Even if that came at the cost of his own.

At that, she chuckled, her lips quirking into the first real smile on her face all morning. “I saw the way you two were talking to each other the day I introduced you. It doesn’t take a genius to know chemistry when you see it. The picture just sort of – put all the pieces together. It’s okay, Pete. Really.”

Quirking a brow at her, he pulled his hands away and sat more fully in his chair. “There’s nothing going on, May. I – “ Peter stuttered out, but she held a hand up, a soft little smile on her face.

“There’s nothing going on between Tony and I anymore, either. He came over last night, started to talk a bunch of nonsense. It seemed like a good time to tell him I’d been seeing someone else, anyway. You remember Ben? Either way – he is single and not attached to me, so you no longer have to factor hurting or upsetting me into any of your life choices.”

She got up then and came around the table, her arms engulfing Peter into a tight hug. “This is a lesson on when to keep secrets from me. I hope you learned that never is probably the best course of action,” she mumbled against the side of his head, Peter’s chest shaking with laughter before she let him go. And just like they were kids again, she slapped the back of his head hard, a cackle slipping from her lips. “Stop ignoring me, okay? Let’s be friends again.”

It took a few more minutes of banter back and forth for Peter to totally comprehend all the things May told him – he couldn’t get past the green light of acceptance; despite all the other juicy things he’d just been told. His mind immediately went to Tony, the thought of pulling his phone out and texting him flashing across his mind. Then, he realized just how much he missed May and put it on the back burner. If he were reading the room right the night before, he didn’t think Tony would be going anywhere anytime soon.

“Yeah, alright.” Peter said after a second, their eyes meeting. He could see nothing but clarity in those hazel eyes, a look he knew to be acceptance and contentment. It felt good to be able to read her again, the crippling guilt no longer between them. “I’m not going to the office today. Want to binge something on Netflix?”

Her lips pulled into a smile, the look in her eye mischievous – “Actually, I think we should find you something to wear to this,” she murmured, hands rummaging in her bag until an envelope came into view. Peter didn’t need to see the Stark Industries logo in the corner to know what she was referring to. The Stark Gala – the height of events for the engineering and technology society. It seemed kind of fitting, a reunion at one of these events after the shitty end to the last one.

A soft blush set in his cheeks then, a silent sort of understanding happening between them. This wasn’t just acceptance from May, but a push in the right direction, too. He took the envelope from her, then pulled her smaller frame into his arms. “Thanks, May.”

When they parted for the afternoon, May pulled him into another hug and wished him luck. The suit they picked out was going to look pretty damn good on him – even if it wasn’t one of the fancy custom-made ones. The whole time, it felt like being with May when they were younger, when there wasn’t a care in the world. Maybe that was because the trauma between them was officially over, or maybe May felt like she knew Peter a bit better. Whatever it was, Peter enjoyed the time thoroughly.

It felt like the first time since getting here that he wasn’t stressed or watching over his shoulder. Even though he enjoyed every single second of being back in the place that felt like home, there were so many things still trying to press him down and keep him there. The weight of his chain felt a few links shorter now. In hindsight, the simple truth would have been much easier than all the angst – but hey, that’s how lessons are learned.

There was just enough time to sneak in a nap – Peter grateful for that fact. They decided early into their conversation that the surprise of his presence would make much more of an impact than a text, so Peter kept control of himself and didn’t say a word to the other man. He could already picture the look on Tony’s face. With the rest of the night on his mind, Peter slept pretty peacefully – his body finally content with where things were headed for him.

Actually feeling refreshed upon waking up, Peter took his time getting dressed. The blue suit and light grey shirt combo looked great in the mirror at the store, the jacket fit his shoulders nicely and the slacks hugged the curve of his ass just right. With the addition of some product in his hair and a small white-gold chain around his neck, Peter looked ever better. It’d been a long time since he dressed up like this – he appreciated the view and hoped Tony would, too.

Peter splurged on the relatively expensive Uber into Manhattan, his conversation with Paula the driver helping to ease any nervousness that wanted to bubble up inside him. Surprisingly, though, there wasn’t much other than excitement coursing through him. No matter what happened, Peter felt a sense of freedom he didn’t before. If Tony decided the craziness they were able to build was what he wanted, Peter couldn’t wait to give himself completely to it. Finally.

It was pretty easy to slip out of the Uber and into the party without dealing with any of the press. They weren’t interested in someone like him. He gave his name and flashed the invitation to the man he remembered as Happy at the door – the exchange easy and over before he knew it. There were lots of people scattered around the upper floor of Stark Industries, the age range wide and varied and the dress much the same. Peter fit right into the people flitting around and used that as an advantage to scope out Tony.

Looking around, he felt a little disappointed when he didn’t see the man right off the bat. He decided to put the search on hold and get a drink when he felt a hand on his arm. “Hope you’re not leaving already.”

He didn’t need to look over his shoulder to know who the hand belonged to – the ghost of Tony’s touch still haunted him on a pretty constant basis. A soft smile slipped across his lips, the other man’s presence did that to him – especially now that it didn’t come with the not so gentle pang of guilt. “No, not yet. I just now found what I was looking for.” Peter’s response was shift, said with confidence.

Tony tugged on his arm until they were facing each other, their chests almost pressing together. After so many years, it felt like the first time all over again – this dance they were doing. Their even height made it easy to catch amber colored eyes – the yellow tinted glasses Tony took to wearing enhanced the color of his eye, the depth of it so easy to get lost in.

“I’ve done my rounds for the night, come upstairs with me,” Tony mumbled, his voice just loud enough for Peter and Peter alone to hear. The warm caress of the liquid smokiness arousal always made Peter think of washed over him, his arms wrapping themselves around Tony’s neck. He pressed in for a kiss, the need unable to be denied. It stayed chaste for the sake of not being in public when things turned steamy.

“Lead the way, Tony,” Peter responded, his brain forcing his body to step away, to keep some space until he could have all of the other man. A work-roughened hand gripped his own, their fingers tangling – Tony led the way through the crowd seamlessly, his ability to fit in despite the sheer amount of attention he could attract was impressive. Probably learned from all the times he did his best to escape the charade over the years.

It was nice to see that some things never changed.

Once they were in the elevator, Tony didn’t hold back – this one led to his part of the penthouse, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. “I’m guessing May talked to you and this is your way of saying that it’s okay to do this,” Tony babbled before grabbing his cheeks and pressing their lips together, the kiss hot and on the right side of desperate. Peter figured he didn’t need to verbally answer, he gripped Tony’s hips instead and kissed back, his tongue pressing forward to join the warmth in the luscious caverns in Tony’s mouth.

Forgoing the tie ended up being a good idea, Tony’s hands were everywhere as they kissed, the tips moving from Peter’s cheeks, down his chin, neck, and under the slight gap of his button up shirt. Each place he touched felt like molten lava, the stroke of his fingers branding his skin – every inch becoming Tony’s once again. Finally, the elevator doors broke open, the dark comfort of Tony’s home just a couple steps forward.

Peter broke away then, his chest heavy from too much carbon dioxide, breaths coming in pants. “It’s okay. I want you, Tony. All of you. Because I finally know how to give all of me, too.” He used the lapels of Tony’s jacket to seal their lips back together, his feet working on their own accord, the path back to Tony’s room still etched into the forefront of his brain. Aside from bumping into the wall a couple of times, Peter and Tony were in the bedroom in no time.

Nimble fingers started to work on Peter’s shirt, Tony’s eye wide with eagerness and heat – the pupils blown open, taking over that precious brown warmth. His gaze made Peter feel a little on display, his skin on fire – the seconds passing making him feel like he needed to crawl out of it. A soft sigh of relief left his lips when the cool air hit his skin, the scalding deliciousness of Tony’s touch all of the sudden bearable again.

Quickly getting in on the action, Peter worked on Tony’s bow tie, the knot coming undone without much effort. Tony tried to press in for a kiss, but Peter kept some distance between them. “I’m going to cum in my pants if you keep doing that. It’s been a while – let me see you,” Peter stammered, his words lazy, the blood meant for his brain traveling lower, instead. He got all of the buttons open without fault, a look of triumph on his face. Greedy hands pushed the suit jacket and shirt off in one go, Tony finally shirtless – skin on display.

His fingers skimmed across tight pecs and prickled nipples, down across each of Tony’s ribs, and along the seam of his abdominals. The trail of hair Peter remembered so fondly seemed a little thicker, the change one of the only signs of aging he could really see. His dress pants sat on slim hips, a v on either side guiding his eyes to the real treasure. He could see the bulge there, Tony’s length long and eager, exactly the way he liked to remember it.

The rest of their clothes came off in a fumble to get onto the bed, Peter’s back hitting the mattress without any fight, a sigh of delight slipping from his lips when Tony settled over him. The weight felt divine, the tangibility of being pressed down amping up the slow spread of arousal tenfold. “Fuck, you feel good,” Peter gasped against Tony’s shoulder. The man was caressing his flanks, fingers moving reverently, like devotion and memorization were the only options.

The ticklish feeling kept him from getting too close to the edge too fast – Tony’s touches driving him crazy in so many ways. His hips rolled up every now and then, the semi-constant friction just enough to stave off the intense itch that needed to be scratched. Peter did his best to memorize the way Tony’s hips felt against his own, how the sweat on his brow rolled down so very slowly, how even after so much time – this felt so goddamn right.

Throwing his arms around Tony’s neck, Peter pulled him down for a fierce kiss, feelings overwhelming him, the earnestness of the interaction so much – everything he wanted. Their lips met for a sloppy kiss, tongues tangling between them, the taste of Tony in his mouth just as exciting as the slip slide of their bodies together. Peter’s fingers roamed through Tony’s hair, the softness of it a nice contrast to the heat overtaking them both.

The need to breath forced them apart, Tony’s forehead leaning down, resting against Peter’s. “I’ve missed you, Pete. So much,” the other whispered, the words kissing his cheeks in a tender brush. His eyes were closed, but Peter could tell he was trying to hold back tears or emotion – or maybe both.

With both hands, he cupped Tony’s cheeks, the other lifting his head enough for them to be looking into each other’s eyes. “I missed you. I’m here now, though – not going anywhere, either,” Peter said softly. He hoped to convey how genuine the words were – that despite how big of a shit he’d been, there still might be a future. He didn’t deserve it – but fuck did he hope for it.

“I won’t let you,” Tony replied, his cheeks lifting into a wide smile. “Jarvis can find you, so don’t even think about it.” He turned his head to press a kiss to Peter’s palm, his nose nuzzling into the same spot. “Can I fuck you?” Tony murmured into the skin there, his eyes hot and hopeful. Peter could feel Tony’s cock against his flat belly – the length throbbing at just the mention of pressing into him. Peter grinned and used his grip on Tony to slip their lips together once again.

“Fuck, yes – please, Tony. I want you.”

Tony didn’t need any more prodding after that, he moved until he was on the bed next to Peter. “Turn over onto your side,” he mumbled, his hands pushing and tugging at Peter’s hips until he turned over. “I’m going to make you feel good, Petey – promise.”

Peter elongated his neck and let Tony pepper kisses against the skin there, the man’s hands still working over lean sides. He threw a hand behind himself and grabbed Tony’s hair, his fingers gripping to keep him as close as possible, so that the other man couldn’t pull away, even if he wanted to. A gasp left his mouth when Tony’s wandering hands wrapped around the front of his body and started to teasingly stroke his cock.

The pulls started off slow, like he was trying to orient himself with Peter again. His fingers were rough, a little bit more scarred than the last time Peter felt his touch – and yet, still completely perfect. The tip of his cock was already leaking, so the glide of Tony’s hand was delicious, the friction faultless. With the slightest of thrusts, Peter could feel the other’s cock against his ass. “Mm, you’re so fucking hard,” Peter babbled, his hands tightening in Tony’s hair.

“Fuck me, please. I want to be yours again.” He thrust his hips back and ground into Tony, if the words weren’t enough, he hoped the move would be.

Tony pulled his lips away from Peter’s neck to pant against it, a soft groan leaving his lips. “God, Pete – I, you’re too much,” he murmured, his hips thrusting forward again, his fingers tightening around Peter’s length. “I can’t wait to feel you.” He squeezed Peter again, then the fingers were gone – Tony’s hand now slipping down to slip between pert ass cheeks.

There were a few soft teases to Peter’s hole before Tony was pulling back – the mattress dipping with his weight. Peter immediately felt the cold of the room clinging to his back, the sweat there staring to dry. Absentmindedly, he let his hand trail down his chest – his fingers ghosting straight down his abs, the tips teasing along the sensitive skin there. His nerves were on fire and he couldn’t let that tingly sensation die down for a single second.

The warmth was back within a couple of minutes, Tony’s hand trailing down his side, the other tucking under Peter’s neck to keep him close. “Tuck this leg up a little,” Tony whispered, lips brushing against Peter’s ear. Complying quickly, he bent his leg – a moan leaving his lips when Tony’s finger filled the newly made space. The barely there touch had him clenching his eyes, mouth open wide. “Fuck!”

The snick of a lube cap opening pulled another sound from his chest, anticipation settling low in his belly, the heat there compounding with it, his cock dribbling a bit of precum at the thought of what was to come next. The first touch of the lube was cool on his skin – and immediately forgotten, the first press of Tony’s finger into him after so much time exquisite, painful, and just right – just enough to distract him.

He couldn’t help the constant stream of ‘Tony’ leaving his lips, each thrust of one, two, and then three fingers shredding ever sense of self and control and conscious thought. It was only Peter and Tony and the aching touches that could tear him apart and then delicately piece him back together. “I’m ready, Tony – I’m ready.” His words were desperate, as was the hand that shot behind him to get a nice grip on Tony’s hair again. “Please – “

“I’ve got you, Pete,” Tony said, his fingers pulling out, only to be replaced with the warm head of the other’s cock. Tony pressed his hips against his loosened hole and thrust forward slightly, just the tip slipping inside. Peter let his jaw drop in a silent moan. He felt Tony’s grunt against his neck before hearing it, the gust of breath sending goosebumps cascading across his skin.

Inch by inch, Peter felt himself relax and accept more of Tony – the stretch turning from a sheer burning sensation to delectable with every passing second. Then, Tony hooked an arm under his already tucked leg, the move opening him up further.

The last couple of inches were easier now, Peter’s hole exquisitely stretched and full – the press of Tony’s hips against his own the best part of all. “Fuck, you’re so tight. You’re clenched around me like if I pull out, you’ll never be whole again,” he babbled, hips pulling back ever so slightly.

Just like Tony said, Peter clenched down a little tighter around him, his heart rate picking up with the sweet ache of his hole stretching further. “Maybe I won’t be,” Peter responded, his eyes closing, Tony’s cock slipping almost all the way out of him, the head resting just past the ring of muscles. He already felt empty, the rightness of being filled missed dearly.

The teasing roll of his hips didn’t last, though – Peter clenched each time he tried to pull out and before long, Tony was panting heavily against his neck, the snap of his hips long and hard. “Harder, Tony – more,” Peter ground out, his jaw clenching with ever thrust in, the tip of Tony’s cock hitting his prostate dead on.

Leaning into Peter more heavily, Tony pressed his leg down until he was almost up on his knees, the weight pressing him fully into the mattress. “I’m so close. Touch yourself – “ Peter barely heard, Tony’s words spliced with pants and groans. He could feel the pulse of Tony’s cock inside of him, the harder and faster he moved, the more it seemed to thrum in time with their joint heartbeat.

It took a second for Peter to register the plea – he was creeping closer and closer to the edge, it felt hard to focus on anything. He complied, though, his fingers gripping tightly and stroking at the same pace as Tony’s thrusts. There was no holding back after that, the boiling heat in his stomach finally bubbling over – each spasm of his body drawing shot after shot of cum from his body. “Ah, Tony!”

He barely felt the hard bite against his shoulder blade, the world tilted on a different axis at the moment. The warmth of Tony finishing inside him kept him grounded, though – his hole tightening to keep him there, deep and exactly where he should be. Tony mumbled Peter’s name over and over again, his forehead coming to rest against the back of his neck.

It was a few minutes before Peter felt with it enough to move or talk or even feel his limbs. He felt Tony slip out and the delicious feeling of cum dripping from his hole – then he sunk into the mattress further, everything about him boneless. Tony’s weight pressed against him a moment later.

The room was quiet when Peter came down enough to turn a little, his arm reaching back to pet at Tony’s bare skin. “Let’s go shower – I’m gross,” Peter said softly, a chuckle leaving his lips when arms wrapped around his waist, Tony sink down into him a little further.

“Do we have to?” Tony whined, his nose brushing Peter’s ear, every breath he took ruffling the hair there.

“I need to,” Peter retorted, the man using his arms to push up a little, his leverage dislodging Tony from his back. “The way you had me pinned down, I came all over myself – I’m already a little itchy.” He moved until he could sit up – the cooling cum on his chest making him pull a face. Tony’s arm reached out to attempt to pull him down once more, but Peter avoided it – a soft smile on his face when he looked over his shoulder. “Come join me if you want.”

Luckily, not a lot had changed about the bathroom, the shower was a little bigger – but Jarvis was easy enough to access, the water starting without much of a hassle. Peter stepped under and let out a relieved grunt – the nerve endings of his skin still sensitive, the hot water just enough to ease that feeling a little. He stood there letting the water sleuth over him – the peace of it nice after such an adrenaline-fueled event.

The shower door opening a few minutes later didn’t surprise him – he simply relaxed into the arms that wrapped around his waist. “Will you stay?” Peter heard, his head tilting to the side to accommodate Tony’s head resting on his shoulder. “I just got you back, I don’t know if I can let you leave now.”

Pressing his head against Tony’s, Peter let his hands grab onto the ones around his waist – the grip tight. “I’ll stay. For as long as you’ll have me.”

[haikumomentsandinspiration]

#healthcarevacation, Part III

My last update was on August 25, 2018. So much has happened since then, so there will be at least two more parts to this documentation. If you missed earlier updates, you can read Part I here and Part II here. 

First of all, I did come up with a tattoo idea (see my last update) and got one last summer. I had had a challenging spring term in the 2018-2019 school year, and needed to remind myself who I am and what I’m about. So I went to my tattoo artist and asked her to design ”a badass mermaid” for me. A siren that’s feminine and strong (not a skinny blonde mermaid, please!), a siren who looks like she is ready to kick some ass if need be—soft, with hard edges.

And I got just that, along with a tattoo on the side of my belly of a fertility symbol from traditional Turkish kilim patterns.

But let me back up.

After August 2018, after a ton of research, we decided to go with donor egg IVF in Spain. Our patient coordinator at the clinic we chose was lovely and super communicative. She was available via WhatsApp anytime I had a question or anxiety or both, and made sure I knew what the next steps would be and when. I felt well cared for.

During my winter break, I flew to Spain soon before our donor’s egg retrieval to start the treatment. I flew into Barcelona to give myself some time in my favorite city before flying to Valencia. I had a cold right before my trip, and in Barcelona, I started feeling like my cold may in fact be a sinus infection. I was miserable. I managed to go outside, get some fresh ginger, some lemon ginger tea, cough drops, and congestion meds. I needed to get better...STAT.

Two days later, on the day I was to fly to Valencia in the evening and meet Gene at the airport there, I woke up to the news Gene couldn’t fly out to join me that day because his passport wasn’t good for at least 6 months. (Being Turkish, I wondered if someone had “cast the evil eye” on us.) Eventually, Gene was able to miraculously take care of all the paperwork, get an emergency passport renewal, and catch the same exact flight to VLC 24 hours later.

The day after G’s arrival, we took a bus to Gandía for our first appointment at Irema clinic. My uterine lining was still a bit too thin, so they upped my meds, but told me not to worry since I still had a week before the scheduled transfer day. That evening, Gene and I flew to Barcelona to boost morale before the transfer. I was feeling slightly better, but Gene ended up catching my cold. Sigh. Things were just not going as smoothly as I had hoped.

A week later, we headed back to Valencia and then to Irema clinic for my second scan. My lining was still too thin, but other than its thickness, it was looking exactly as it should. They doubled my estrogen dose and postponed my transfer date. I went to the market the next day and shopped for food with a focus on thickening my lining: nuts, avocados, olives, apricots, sardines, chicken broth…My third scan, on December 31, showed my lining was almost there (7.7 mm, with the goal being at least 8 mm thick, so we set the transfer date for January 7. Things were looking up, except I got sick with another cold while still not 100% over the first one, and spent New Year’s Day sick in bed.

Gene left for SF two days later. That he had to go back before transfer day was hard for me. I sent him updates via WhatsApp along the way and tried to stay connected as much as possible (this was a major challenge for me and really got me down). I found an acupuncturist of zero reputation (someone working from home and with no reviews anywhere, which was not unusual in Valencia), but who was very sweet and kind and seemed to know what he was doing, and started seeing him to get my body as ready as possible for the transfer. We had three good quality embryos from our donor, and after much discussion and research, we decided to transfer just one this time, and save two for later for a second attempt or for a sibling later on.

The day before my transfer day, I walked about an hour to the beach, prayed, meditated, and communed with the sea, wishing for a positive outcome the next day. The next day, I found out the embryo we were going to transfer was classified as an A-quality embryo, and my lining was just fine. Transfer was quick and painless, with an all-women team. I went to get fertility acupuncture next to seal the deal, and the next morning, I flew back to San Francisco hopeful, ready for this to finally work.

It didn’t.

But it wasn’t even that simple. The first blood test, my levels came back really low: technically pregnant, but disconcerting if I were indeed pregnant. I was to go back 48 hours later to see if my levels doubled as they were supposed to; we held onto the sliver of hope. But no. Negative. I couldn’t feel the sadness at first — Gene had just started a new job that day after a long stretch of unemployment, so we were celebrating and grateful. Then, a couple of days later, the emotions hit. I felt distant, quiet, impatient...and in need of a new tattoo.

And that’s how the badass mermaid/fertility design tattoos were born.

Fast forward to the summer. After a brief visit to Israel for my grandmother’s 90th birthday, and a week in Istanbul next, I flew back to visit Irema clinic in Spain for the transfer of remaining embryos.

In the meantime, our awesome patient coordinator Lauren had quit her job (some internal drama, which made it sound like she made the absolute right choice). I only found out when I contacted her in preparation for the summer’s transfer to find out what our next steps should be, and had someone named Sergio respond to my text instead of Lauren. He was terrible at communication and not half as knowledgeable as Lauren. It was a very frustrating period, but we had no choice since we still had embryos at the clinic.

July 3, 2019: transfer day! We had decided to transfer both of the remaining embryos this time. We really wanted twins, and if only one took, that was fine, too. We’d figure out what to do about a sibling later. I wasn’t sick this time. I had been upgraded to business class last minute for no apparent reason on my flight over. My lining was where it was supposed to be from the start, and we had two embryos this time. Everything was going smoothly. My sister Rina joined me at the end of my stay in Valencia to help me with my bags, and we went to Barcelona together for my two week wait. All was well; we were joyful and filled with hope.

Because the transfer day happened earlier than I expected compared to our last experience, I had more days in Spain post-transfer than I had anticipated. This meant that I would still be in Spain when I got my blood work results back. I decided I would not delay the wait. I had my blood test done, then went to the beach with Rina. I didn’t swim, just in case I was positive and had to avoid getting an infection. I told G to let me know when he got home from work so I could look at the test result with him on the phone and we could get the news together.

Finally, close to 2 am in Barcelona, with G on the phone, I finally took a look.

Negative.

It was an awful Whatsapp chat. This, we had been convinced, would be the successful one, and it wasn’t. We just sat there, each in our feelings, not sharing them. I felt devastated and alone. Hurt. Mad. Heartbroken. Isolated.

Hours later, when Rina woke up on the morning of her flight back to Istanbul, I told her the news through tears. She said she didn’t want to leave me behind like this; I said I would be fine, and that there wasn’t anything she or anyone could do. I just needed to grieve, and her being there with me or not wouldn’t change anything. Besides, why pay extra money to hang out longer with a depressed sister who doesn’t feel like doing anything except staying in bed crying? Rina went back to her room, made a phone call, and came back to tell me she was staying three more days and that was that. She left to give me some space and to get herself some coffee, and returned a little while later with a bubble wand for me (I am about to cry just thinking about it now.) I got up, blew some bubbles from the balcony of my room towards passersby below. Bubbles have always made me smile. And to my surprise, even under these circumstances they still did.

I got my period a few days later—a few days after Rina had returned to Istanbul and a few days before my own trip back home. That week after the test results and before my flight back to SF, back to Gene was the longest week ever. I tried to make the most of it by finally enjoying all the foods (including ice cream) and alcohol I had been denying myself in Barcelona due to my fertility-friendly diet.

And then, back home, it felt like the longest time ever until I stopped grieving. What finally helped me find a sense of inner calm was to start researching next steps. I started researching clinics in Spain all over again, making phone calls, having Skype chats at all hours of the night (due to the 9-hour time difference), exchanging numerous emails with a number of clinics and their former patients…

Eventually, after I did all that research and laid out everything on a spread sheet, we settled on a clinic in Barcelona and decided to gamble on their birth guarantee/shared risk program. What that means: instead of paying for one cycle (about $9K), you pay a flat fee (about $20K), which gets you three cycles with three different donors and a healthy baby at the end of those, OR all your money back. So the clinic is taking a risk in that they could lose $20K if you don’t have a successful birth by the end. And you take a risk by paying $20K instead of $9K because if the first cycle works, that’s $11K down the drain. We decided it was worth it since I’d had so many failed cycles, including two donor egg transfers thus far. And we figured the clinic would be taking especially good care of us because it would be in their best interest for us to have a successful cycle as soon as possible. Next challenge: figure out how to finance all this. After more research, more emails and more chats with people in various Facebook groups, we settled on a plan and decided to go for it.

December cycles hadn’t been kind to me. I’d had a December cycle with my own eggs in Turkey a few years back, which we had to cancel when my body just didn’t respond to the fertility meds. Our first donor egg transfer in Spain had also failed and was the one cycle when my lining took its time getting to the minimal acceptable thickness for the embryo transfer. Knowing cold weather is not my body’s friend, I was hesitant to start the new cycle with a new clinic in December, but I was also not getting any younger, so there was no time to waste. It was back to Barcelona in December 2019, and this time, Barcelona was the location of the clinic and our only destination, not a short trip between clinic visits in another visit. Everything would be much simpler.

Clarity sure felt good, and knowing what our plan was for up to three cycles (which could span the period of the next two years) was a huge relief to me. I felt so much lighter. I felt hopeful and confident again.

December 2019-January 2020.

Barcelona.

Let’s do this.

To be continued.

[vox]

I trained myself to be less busy — and it dramatically improved my life

I am a robot, programmed to obliterate my to-do list. During the day, I direct a research laboratory, write papers, and teach classes as a professor of psychology at the University of Arizona. Come 4:30 pm, I run a kid limousine service, shuttling between various activities, preparing dinner, helping with homework and the evening routine. I scurry through these activities — often missing the moments of joy embedded in everyday life — until I have some sort of nightly electrical shortage, then crash out on the couch. I reboot in the morning and do it all again.

I am addicted to busyness. I am embarrassed to say it, largely because I am lucky to have a wonderful life, a great career and, to be fair, the struggles, demands, and slings-and-arrows are all of my own doing (especially the part about having kids; I know I was there for that).

I created this mess — a life at breakneck speed from the moment I wake until I finally watch 30 minutes of Netflix before drifting off. But, I recently hit rock bottom, feeling as if I was going through the motions of my life rather than truly living it.

I’m not the only one who feels overwhelmed — you probably do too

I don’t think I am alone in my feelings about busyness, nor do I think these feelings are especially new for the average working adult. I might be alone at my rock bottom, but there are many indicators that we are feeling more over-committed, over-scheduled, over-tired, and over-burdened than ever before.

Brigid Schulte, in her 2014 book, Overwhelmed, writes incisively about this trend, “So much do we value busyness, researchers have found a human ‘aversion’ to idleness and need for ‘justifiable busyness.’” My favorite example from her book: Researchers can track the rise of busyness in holiday cards dating back to the 1960s. In holiday cards, Americans used to share news about our lives (the joys and sorrows of the year), but now we’re more likely than ever to mention how busy we are as well.

As a clinical psychologist, I have worked with many people who are trying to make substantial changes — from improving a marriage to overcoming generalized anxiety or depression. The idea that these changes begin with acknowledging that there’s a problem is a truism. Personal responsibility is the vehicle for behavior change. When it came to my busyness, though, I had what might be described as extreme difficulty looking beyond the hamster wheel. (Professionally, people in my line of work call this “very little insight.”)

I don’t think I am busier than anyone else. My wife and friends are just as busy as me. I think the difference is that I became aware of my busyness and started hating it. I was feeling claustrophobic in my own life. I asked my wife if I could retire and get some time back in the day. (She said no.) Then, I started to wonder about the opposite of busyness. I thought immediately of the slow food movement. I needed a slow food movement in my everyday life.

I realized busyness had devoured my values

The first change took root for me about 18 months ago when the graduate program that I direct started teaching Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (pronounced as the single word ACT) to our doctoral students, who are future clinical psychologists. ACT is a scientifically-validated psychotherapy treatment for a range of mental health problems. Basically, it’s a form of talk therapy.

A central tenant of ACT is that emotional pain is driven in large part by getting over-involved in difficult experiences and thoughts (that is, going over-and-over things in our mind; getting stuck in our experiences; and being unable to create any psychological distance between yourself and the terribleness of things). Consequently, when we become stuck on or in our emotional pain, we go through each day in a way that is disconnected from our core values — the essential principles that, ideally, come to guide our lives. In ACT, value-centered living is paramount, and a big part of the treatment is to help people separate themselves from the painful language in their heads (“This is so awful. I feel so terrible.”) to get on with the business of living a meaningful life.

As I learned more about ACT and started incorporating its methods into my psychotherapy practice with clients, something important dawned on me: Busyness devoured my values. I was working, parenting, loving, emailing, and exercising in a sort of mindless way, just doing and doing. Busyness is not, nor was it ever, a guiding principle in my life. Yet, I had let the inertia of doing take deep root without realizing what was happening to me. To get more out of life — more meaning, more joie de vivre — I needed to start doing less and to become more conscious about my choices.

How I started to reclaim my life from busyness

I started with a simple value: being outside. I am a regular exerciser, but I was losing touch with being outside and moving my body through space. I began walking more, that’s all. It was not a hard change to make — I just park a little further from work and hoof it a bit more or I go for a nice stroll during lunch. It would not be an overstatement to say that an additional 40 minutes a day of walking just two or three times a week has changed me in a profound way. Walking provides time to think, to be energized by nature, and to feel less frenzied. Quite dramatically, I am much less of a robot and much more of a human being.

Next, I focused on valuing idleness. I do not mean being a sloth, only that I was coming to see the value of doing as little as possible for long periods of time. I just finished Tim Kreider’s incredibly thoughtful and hilarious book of essays, We Learn Nothing. The audiobook includes a bonus chapter entitled Laziness: A Manifesto. Kreider writes, “This busyness serves as a kind of existential reassurance, a hedge against emptiness. Obviously your life cannot possibly be silly, or trivial, or meaningless if you are so busy, completely booked every hour of the day. All this noise, and rush, and stress seem contrived to cover up some fear at the center of our lives.”

I cannot say if I my busyness was a hedge against some sort of existential emptiness, but all the doing certainly left me feeling empty in the end. Now, with idleness in mind, I just park myself on the couch as often as possible and see what happens. Mostly, I am looking for an opportunity to enjoy the moments of life in an unstructured way; I am looking for more play. In my idleness last night, I spent a long time just tickling my 5-year-old daughter, pretending to scare her, and lying on my back with her in “airplane position” while she perfected a move she called the hummingbird. That was the best half-hour of my year so far. What is more, I’ve found that the less I work, the better my work actually is in the end, from the ability to attend to students and clients to the creative energies needed for doing science.

As part of my effort to create time and space for doing less, I also got off Facebook. At first, I was simply trying to escape the toxicity of the election on social media. In time, though, I realized I was also escaping an attentional black hole, one with an incredible gravitational pull. I would never willfully stand in the middle of a room noisy room with everyone screaming for my attention, yet this is best metaphor I can think of to describe my mind on Facebook. I was weak and could not resist its forces, fair enough, but I also started to see it as filler and fluff. When I got past my FOMO and let it go, I gained many moments back in my day.

I’ve also tried to get serious about laughing more. For me, busyness’s neighbor is seriousness. Seriousness is over-rated, and I feel much healthier and even childlike when I am not taking myself so seriously, and when I am trying to make other people laugh.

Finally, my relationships. In my days of busyness, I loathed the work pop-in; too many unscheduled interruptions. Now, I’m coming to appreciate people dropping by to say hello and to joke around (see: laughter). My door is a little more open, so to speak. I am also focusing on my local drinking club, where a few friends have been going for beers together for several years. Sometimes, I am too busy and have to miss, but that really bothers me now. Friendships are sustenance, just like food.

Have I sustained these changes? Sort of. I am working as much as ever and find it hard to not get sucked into the trappings of busyness. Sometimes, I look at my schedule shout to myself, “Too much, too much!” When this is the case, I just go for a walk. Or, I just get on the floor and mess with my kids. Or, I follow the mantra of our club, “Relax, have a homebrew.” (If my busyness freak-out is in the morning, I do wait for the homebrew, in case you’re wondering. At least until lunch.)

By and large, though, I am feeling better than I have in a long time — more deliberate in the choices I make, more connected to the people around me, and more energized for the demands of the day. The surprising irony here, for me at least, is that by doing less, I am getting way more out life. I have banished my inner robot.

David Sbarra, PhD, is a professor of psychology at the University of Arizona. His new ebook, Love, Loss, and the Space Between, is available on Amazon.

[sscottstewart]

7.37am 26 July 2017: “You’re drugs have fucked up your attention to detail” This is a typical statement made by my AVH’s. This may well be true, or may not be, but what I get out of it is that this is just more criticism. 02nd August 2017 2039: ?FM: is anyone getting hurt s: no, not as far as I know FM?: why is this happening s: because for once, and probably the first time, I would not do as you demand PW: you think we don’t exist don’t you s: yes, I think you don’t exist PW: You will find out that we do S: well won’t that

  At approximately 3am on the 13th Sept 2016, Pam was being raped and assaulted, so I drove there at approx 100km per hour in each street and sat out front of her house. Immediately as I turned the engine off, 3 cars arrived.

One pulled into a driveway 35m down the street the house number was 121 or 123 pam’s street (for some reason my note said TA 121/123). I know this because it sat in the driveway for a while, and after I sat for about an hour or an hour and a half, I drove down to get its rego, and it had gone in/up the driveway behind fence gates and parked, so I couldn’t get the rego. I think it was a morone red Corolla hatch.

The car that arrived immediately as I turned my engine off was a white Hyundia hatch/wagon BX66PD. The third car went 120m dfown the street and I couldn’t see it properly

17th August 2018 0057 hours Entered the Muriel St car park of Hornsby Westfield, and there were two vehicles parked in the southern bays opposite Extreme clean. One was a large SUV type white station wagon CHR047, possibly Nissan or Toyota, the other I didn’t see properly, other than it being a two door sporty looking car, white also I think (but am unsure). My suspicion was aroused because they both left the parking bays and exited onto Muriel street as I was collecting my ticket from the machine to enter the car park (going to Hobbysew to collect cigarette buts). The larger white SUV looked similar to a car that boxed me in last Sunday 12th when I was visiting the adult shop to return 2 DVD’s as I stated I was going to (to try and get a result). The driver looked similar as well. Tall in thwe seat, very short balding hair, clean chaven, around 47 – 50 years old.

I have no problem with this if this is the bikies, and caused no problem the previous Sunday. But if I am supposed to behave in a requisite manner, thenI would wish that they don’t leave butt flag me down and say what I am supposed to comply with, or whatever purpose they have in being ahead of me and knowing where and when I will arrive at any particular location.

      from:

Scott Stewart <sscottstewart@gmail.com> to: hillsdistrict@bandidosmc.com.au, Alexandra Tintner <atintner@ombo.nsw.gov.au>, nswombo@ombo.nsw.gov.au, communications@justice.nsw.gov.au date: 19 Jun 2019, 01:46 subject: Times Up – Future Violence In Normanhurst mailed-by: gmail.com

Righty right Boys.

It’s me again – Scott James Stewart – serial number 008, maturbator and schizophrenic.

I’m fucking sick of hearing about you in my mind (through you associate I am led to believe)

IF YOU DON’T SHOW UP AND FUCKING FIGHT,   i’M GOING TO DESTROY YOUR REPUTATION, AND HOPEFULLY SOME OF YOUR FRIENDS.

Unit 5

29 Denman Parade,

Normanhurst, nsw, 2076

Or you can just reply to this email, or better still, if you have any balls at all, call me on

(02) 9989 8752. But you fucking wont, on the basis of some junkie like excuse.

If you attempt to get me sectioned, I will call the cops, and a few others, and exploit a weakness I have discovered in your organisation. Please check the addresses at the header of this email.

  https://freemason-absolute-leader-declared.webnode.com/ 

http://be-careful-what-you-wish-for.strikingly.com 

Gutless Ghost loving Freemason Cuntrs.

250719 0842

All fm?  On the train going to tafe founfation skills workshop after peoole going on down the rear units and david recording me from outside my door

Scott did u log out No Well what r u goong to do about yr venterlinm paymemts Theres notng i can do Ur wrong I disagree How long will it take to prpve yr right I already jave que a bit of wvidemve to prove im right What do u think of farah I think so highly of her, that i believe yr earlier claims. Out of this world nice What should i do abouf julia Mot what u said u r doing to me. Ask the bandidos. U just lost. M  u did S: well at least ots not for the earleir behaiour error  made Actually  it is Well whata that got to do h farah? J:   Im not daying anymore S: ok . Bet u do Fm: what is going on scott is that garah will mot talk to u anymore S shame Fm: what dou think of that S there can only b 2 reasona for that M: theyr right S > i couldnt hear them? Fm: did u take drugs this morning S unfortunately  yes, i did GMA : wjat do u think about drugs S they destroy lives Fm: female scotty stewart. What did mark kelly think S  i have no idea. (They do!!) Fm: what do u think farah thinks I wouldnt have a clue (they do!!!) Scott – why wont anybody tell i the truth Becaise they camt know id whateber its is the truth. They camt know if its a lie…. wwhatever u r refering to 0906 M: what will happen to farah S   she wiil get eaten M  she already has —– ? Class cleague: do u like me? S i like everyone ? Cc   u wont

ReplyForward

hillsdistrict@bandidosmc.com.au bcc:melbourne@bandidosmc.com.au, sydney@bandidosmc.com.au, brisbane@bandidosmc.com.au date:3 January 2018 at 21:38

A Humble Request From A Challenged Person

mailed-by:gmail.com

Good evening,

Sorry to bother you. My name is Scott James Stewart, and I you will recall my apologies for contacting previously. As you will recall from some of those emails, I am schizophrenic, and astoundingly, your club has become involved the maintenance of my continued good health .

I have developed a very effective psychosocial treatment of my phenomenological symptoms, that provides me with great relief. It involves quotations (what I call 1st person transcripts), of the Auditory Verbal Hallucinations (AVH’s) I experience irregulalrly, that are a common feature of the condition.

It really is the most amazing thing. All I have to do in order to maintain my good health is when the voices start talking (as they do occasionally) is undertake to write down the time and date, and as much of the exact first person quotations of what I hear as is comfortable, and things improve.

Inexplicably to me, they consistently include your clubs name, and allege to be some of your members who are also Freemasons.

I thought that since I publish this material, it would be ethical, to inform you of the work so that you may respond to the statements and request omissions if you choose.

https://evidenceortruth.wordpress.com/

amazingschizophreniavoices10.wordpress.com

(I am in the process of organising investigative health research in collaboration with Sydney University (Francesca Coniglio) and The Palmerston Clinic (Hornsby Hospital – BGr Dinah Bennet), and will soon be expanding the knowledge of this efficacious treatment approach to other individuals who are subject to AVH’s).

Regards,

Scott”

********************************************************************************************************************************

5) I discovered the hacking of one of the blogs within two hours and so deactivated both before they would have read them, so they also received inactive links as you did.

6) I wrote an brief introduction of my full name name and an ezpression of respect on the Rebels MC 1% Motorcylist Facebook page: (https://www.facebook.com/onepercenterbikers/)

******************************************************************************

(13:56)

My name is Scott James Stewart. I spent at least 13 minutes trying to find a less public way of introducing myself, and I apologise, but this was my result. I am a respectful, and honest individual, who may or may not come to your attention, perhaps again, nd congruent with my integrity efforts, I wanted to introduce myself to your esteemed club (despite the fact that the Police I talk to recommend that I should not do so). Having said this, I offer my introduction to you with special recognition of your affinity with those men whose PTSD you effectively treat through your strong and reliable friendship. Great men in my opinion. Should we ever meet or talk by chance or fate one day, I would be pleased to be able to immediately state, that I introduced myself to you on the 17 January 2018 on a Facebook page (though in gossipy world, others might say 16 January 2018 at approximately 7.30pm. No matter. My respect never changes).

**********************************************************************************************************

6) I have over the past year quite a few hacks on several duplicate blogs publishing the same Auditory Hallucinations statements. I did not even expect anyone would read them. I am compiling some substantiated evidence to facilitate an authoreatitive investigation that can indisputably attribute causality. I should disclose that I have unreliable suspicions of individuals, so maybe that might correlate with anything you discover if you have time to look into any of this. I am not requesting that you do. I am not scared, despite the reputation of the organisations involved. So thank you.

7) I plan to repeat this process of publishing two comparable blogs in the future, but the date of which I am ‘playing by ear’.

8) I need to also add (surprisingly) that my original crime stoppers report was to attempt to get your available resources if possible directed towards the mysterious and carefully checked disappearance of another individual who is featured in the blogs more than anyone. His name is Ron (Ronald) Thiessen, and he deserves the right to oversee the published material,  but he is definately missing, he is famous and I have contacted his famous friends, and volunteer clubs etc, and the material in the blog leads me to  serious concern for his safety because what is in the blog  is damming and defamatory in my opinion. I have talked to your counter staff about him being missing, and read your website, but I cannot meet your seven pieces of documentation necessary to establish a formal missing person report. I can provide you with a document detailing the steps I have taken to locate him, if you are able to look into this. The most important and salient fact of this matter, is his membership of Freemasonry, which coincidentally is what links the two outlaw motorcycle clubs to the blogs, in addition to the members named, and the serious allegations made by my hallucinations against them.

My home phone is 9989 8752

My mobile (which I think has also been hacked) isa currently 0403 996 187 (probably change v. soon – I’ll let you know)

My address is

Gunyah

Unit 5

29 Denman Parade

Normanhurst, 2076.

Thank Gods for the cops

The Police Know 7.37am 26 July 2017: “You’re drugs have fucked up your attention to detail” This is a typical statement made by my AVH’s.

[canaryatlaw]

alright, well today was all around pretty good. woke up bright and early to my alarm at 6:30 and started getting ready for work. public transit was running slow today (so far there’s been a half hour window in which I can arrive at work after leaving at the same time) because it was crowded so I didn’t get to the courthouse till like 8:45, which I had slight anxiety about because I was supposed to be shadowing one of the lawyers in court and they generally like to get there somewhat early, but she was still in the office when I arrived so that was good. we went up a few minutes later, simple stuff but good to see. the first case was done pretty quickly so we went back down to the office and then my supervisor and I ended up explaining to the other lawyer what happened in the hearing last Friday because she was initially the one who was supposed to be handling the hearing but went home sick that day, so that was entertaining to say the least lol. we went back up to court and the lawyer had to run and make copies of something at the last second so there was a chance I’d have to step up and just ask to pass the case till she got back which would’ve been super easy but she ended up getting back anyway. finished with that and headed back down. after that I started reviewing some paperwork for clinic and then the volunteer had to leave for class so I ended up going over it with the client and getting it filed. court was closed over the lunch hour (they’ve been trying to stay up lately but it hasn’t always worked) so she had to hang out for a bit and then one of the volunteers was free to take her to court. I ate lunch quickly then spent a while more doing paperwork and reviewing stuff before we had our case acceptance meeting, deciding what cases we did over the last two weeks we want to consider to pick up and represent them for the entire EOP process. I was pleasantly surprised by how many cases they actually did pick up, it was only really if something funky was going on, some complicating factor or just something not feeling quite right that one would be rejected. Halfway through I did get pulled out to review more paperwork which was fine, then it ended shortly after I got back. I then talked to my supervisor about some training stuff and did some prep work for cases up tomorrow. there’s like 3 cases up that needed to be covered because the original attorney couldn’t do it for some reason, and initially it looked like I was gonna do one that could be slightly complicated because there was a criminal case against the defendant in a different courtroom set at the same time so I’d have to like go track him down and manage our courtroom passing the case and such and it was just gonna be a lot, but I ended up getting switched to a simpler one, which was relieving, though I may still have to help run errands with the other case once I’m finished since it requires being in multiple places at the same time. I made the mistake of reading the petition for the order of the case I was handling, and it was some pretty gross stuff, and now tomorrow I have to interact with this guy and see if he actually obtained a lawyer or not, I’m hoping he did so I don’t have to talk to him too much, but if he didn’t I’m just gonna go in super confident and professional and not budge an inch if he tries any shit. It should be simple though, just really setting a date, so I’m not too worried. I headed out around 5 since I had a chiropractor appointment that I thought was at 6:30 but while on the bus home I discovered it wasn’t until 7 which was good because it was like 6:13 by the time I got home. so I got changed and relaxed for a few before heading out. we were doing my re-exam today which I pretty much knew was gonna end up being my last appointment with them for the time being anyway, which I feel like it’s definitely time so I’m happy that’s one less thing I’ll have to deal with, though I will miss talking to the PT guy about soccer because he got so excited and always wanted to hear about how my games went, but I have his email and said I’d email him about how the new season goes lol (I probably won’t actually do it, but you know, the thought was there). From there I ubered to Target because I had like three prescriptions that had autofilled like 3 days ago and they were getting pissy about them with the text updates lol so I went to get those and a few other things I needed before ubering back home. From there for the rest of the night I basically just chilled, watched the new episode of Great British Bake Off which I was happy to see eliminated the guy I didn’t like that I knew was going to get eliminated, lol. I then went to the random food show I’ve been watching while doing more computer stuff until shortly before 10 when I showered and started getting ready for bed, in an effort to get to bed earlier, and now I’m here. It’s just past 11 and I’m probably going to have to wake up at 6 to make sure I have enough time to get everything ready for court, so that means 7 hours of sleep if I fell asleep right now, so on that note I’m going to bed now lol. Goodnight babes. Happy Friday.

[growingupguidepup]

SDIT Meets the Last Frontier – Part 1

Many people who follow us know that I work as an emergency veterinary technician. Usually this job doesn’t include traveling, but in January I received an email from my clinic manager that included a unique opportunity. They were looking for volunteers to travel up to Anchorage Alaska to help out an emergency clinic there that was short staffed and looking for additional assistance during their computer software transition. Alaska has always been a place that I have wanted to see and visit so I jumped on the chance to go, even if I was going to be working during the visit.

The response from all my coworkers was huge, so many people wanted to go and I feel extremely lucky that I was one of the two employees selected to go. The dates for the trip were picked out that worked for everyone involved and all the arrangements were made. I then had a decision to make. Do I take my service dog in training (SDIT) named Pixie with me? Or do I leave her home with Matt?

If you read my last blog I announced that Pixie would be staying with me and training to help me will my new changes in my health. So most would say, absolutely she should go with me, and I do agree, but there are a lot of factors that I have to consider in my decisions when I take her.

My first concern was that I would be working three days in a row; ten hour shifts. I have been working 8 hour shifts and the extra 2 hours can somedays be really hard on me without a break. I had no idea how busy this clinic was or how long I would be on my feet without a break. Also would there be areas for me to sit? Opportunities for me to sit? I can make adjustments at the clinic I work at if needed depending on my level of fatigue most days. I can do work at the microscope, I can do phone updates, monitor anesthetic procedures, and other things at my work on days that I am struggling to be on my feet for long periods. My coworkers also understand and a few do recognize when I’m not up to certain tasks and jump in now without me even asking to switch tasks with them. So going into a new clinic environment was going to be a little stressful… and for Pixie too. Pixie knows the clinic I work in and the flow, she grew up there. She has a spot under the desk at one of the computer stations where she is comfortable and she can stay there for eight hours without a problem. She requires just one or two potty breaks during the shift and she needs to be fed her dinner. She can keep an eye on me and is very happy there. She wouldn’t have the same privileges at the clinic in Alaska and therefore I considered it might be a stressful experience for her.

First step was to message the clinic manager at the clinic in Alaska to see if it was even an option to bring her with me. The response was yes, but all employee dogs were to be kept in an area where there were dog runs. Pixie does have some kennel stress when put into kennels anywhere other than our house. This is what started her being placed under the desk at my work when she was a puppy. I would take her to work with me and she would have basically an anxiety attack when I put her in a kennel there. She was fine if another dog was with her, but panicked when she was by herself. She would cry, bite at the kennel door, pant, pace and even vomit occasionally. It was easier on her to be under the desk and she was perfectly calm and behaved there. We slowly worked on her getting more comfortable being in a kennel and now I can put her in a kennel if I need to.  She isn’t thrilled about it, but she is now calm in the kennel. The only other experience she has had being in a kennel somewhere else was at her scent class training sessions. The dogs were required to be in a kennel between runs. It was a 6 week course and by the end she was way more comfortable about being in the kennel there, but again it took a few weeks and I was sitting right next to her.

I weighed the pros and cons about bringing Pixie on the trip. On past trips Pixie has shown some stress signs, but does work through them as the trip goes. She doesn’t always eat well, or poop normally. She has had some barking at noises outside our hotel rooms because they are unfamiliar sounds. 

The pros were that this would be a great experience for her, she already has some experience traveling, but more would be great. She could experience snow for the first time, she would be a great help to me traveling through the airports and help me conserve energy for working. 

The cons were if she stressed out in the kennel at the clinic I might be forced to sedate her if needed. Another concern was whether she would potty in the snow (she is very picky where she will poop). I also had to think about if I was tired after my shift If I would have energy to take care of her. Without Matt around I would be responsible for getting up out of bed to potty her and make sure she got enough exercise before my shift. Pixie knows my coworker that came with us, but she is very attached to me. I was pretty certain that she would possibly outright refuse to go potty for anyone other than myself, another thing we are working on.   

I decided that bringing Pixie was worth all the potential cons. If we are going to be a working team I had to see how she was progressing with dealing with a change in her routine and environment. Service dogs need to be adaptable and if she couldn’t adapt on this trip, then I would need to reevaluate her future with me. This in some ways was a test for us as a team. I could see what things were solid for her and what things still needed work. I am 100% happy with my decision to bring her, she stepped up to the challenge and proved that she has made huge strides since her last trip in June.

I think Pixie knew that this was a test for her and went into work mode as soon as we stepped out of the car at the airport. I also think that she wanted to show off her skills to my coworker who was traveling with us. We checked in ourselves and our luggage first. She waited patiently at the counter as the airline representative asked the two questions, is she a service dog? And what is she trained to do? Pixie still wears her “In Training” cape and will continue to do so until she is super solid on all of her behaviors in public. Next we went outside for a last chance to potty before we went through security. She went very quickly and was eager to go back in and head to security. At security she was absolutely perfect in her behavior. She waited patiently in line, sat and waited for me to pass through the metal detector before calling her through and accepting of her pat down. Once we gathered our things we were off to our gate. She was excited but also very focused not only on me, but making sure my coworker was sticking close by to us. She kept looking for her and as soon as she knew she was still with us, she focused on where we were going.

We got to preboard. I do enjoy this option to get everything I think I will need for the fight without feeling rushed with a line of people behind me. Having a dog at my feet means no room for a bag under the seat. Once I sit down in my seat I am there for the duration on the flight. I don’t want to risk disturbing my dog and having to get her resettled mid flight if I want or  need to get something out of my bag in the overhead compartment. I had the window seat and my coworker was next to us in the middle seat. Pixie quickly settled in her spot and seemed ready for the adventure to begin. Once boarding began a nice woman in a flight attendant uniform sat in the aisle seat. She was flying to Seattle to catch a different flight that she would be working. But one of the first things she said as she sat was “now that is a real service dog” and pointed at Pixie. That is one of the best compliments I could have received on this trip. As a flight attendant, I’m sure she has seen her fair share of dogs that should not have been on a flight. 

Take off was no problem, but a few minutes into the flight Pixie did shift and moved to my coworkers foot space and stayed there for the entire 2 hour flight. Not sure if she was feeling uneasy herself or picking up on something from my coworker. This was the first time Pixie sat at the rear of the plane. In all her other fights Pixie sat in the bulkhead area so maybe the noises and vibrations were different for her behind the planes engines. At the same time my coworker suffers from anxiety and perhaps Pixie was one step ahead of her. Pixie multiple times checked in and even gave her a few nudges during the trip. I asked how she was feeling when this happened and she said that she felt her anxiety levels were increasing each time Pixie checked in. Pixie was definitely picking up on something and helping not only me, but my coworker as well. This was a bit of a surprise for me. Pixie was willing to notify someone else of a change in their body.

Pixie remained settled on the flight but alert, which was a little odd, because normally she would sleep.  Once we landed in Seattle we had just under an hour to catch our connecting flight in a completely different terminal. We got off the plan and Pixie remained in work mode. She had just the right amount of pull for me and navigated the people and environment like a pro. We had to get on a tram to go to the next terminal and again, no problem for Pixie. When we exited the tram there was an indoor relief area for dogs. It was a piece of artificial turf on a raised platform and a plastic fire hydrant. This was Pixie’s only opportunity to pee before boarding our next flight that would be about 4 hours. I walked her over and gave her the cue to potty and she quickly hopped up and peed and hoped off. She had this look of “ewe, that was gross” on her face. It was probably the equivalent of how I feel of using a porta potty at events that don’t have an actual bathroom. You gotta go you use it, but as quickly as possible. I was surprised but very happy that she went, since she is very particular about where she will potty. Relieving habits are one of the biggest reasons some dogs don’t go on to be service dogs. Some dogs will potty where and whenever they want freely which is a problem; others will only relieve at home or familiar places which is also a problem. A service dog has to be comfortable relieving where and when an opportunity is given. It is a huge and important part of puppy raising and service dog life.

When we got to the gate for the next flight they were already boarding, so no pre board option for us. It is more challenging to navigate boarding a plane with a dog when people are already sitting in their seats and people standing in the aisle in front and behind you. A dog can feel crowded and uncomfortable. You need to be mindful that your dog isn’t trying to sniff or say hi to people. And you have to make sure people are not trying to pet your dog as you are standing still or moving down the aisle. All of this while trying to move to your seat in a tiny space that isn’t large enough for your dog to walk in the position it is used to which is right next to you. You have to choose, does the dog walk in front or behind you. Once we got settled in our seat and everyone was boarded, we were asked to move by the flight staff. It wasn’t a full flight but the row we were in was full. They said that they wanted to give Pixie more space and sat her and I in the last row of the plane in the window seat. There was someone in the aisle seat but not the middle. So we had to get up, gather our things and leave my coworker behind and get resettled. Pixie took it all in stride, but I was a little annoyed by it all. But what are you going to do, you are supposed to follow the direction of the flight staff. Pixie did settle quickly though in the middle seat foot section and finally fell asleep after an already long day for her and slept the duration of the flight.

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