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ceealaina · 4 years

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Title: Time May Change Me Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card Number: 3088 Link: AO3 Square Filled: Adopted - Time Travel (to the past) Ship: Stony Rating: E Major Tags: Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame, Endgame Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Summary: A slight shift in timing during the time heist mission leaves Tony and Steve trapped in 1970. Stuck together while they try and work out a new plan, they instead start to see each other in a whole new light. Word Count: 13,609

It started to go wrong the way these things usually did for them — the second they split up. (You’d think by now they would have learned.)

Tony’s timing (hah, how fitting that time was working against them) had been off by seconds. He was just about to cut into the appropriate container, grab the Tesseract and get the hell out of dodge when he’d been interrupted. It probably could have been worse. At least he hadn’t been cut red -- or blue -- handed. But he was caught so off guard by being met with fucking Howard of all people that he hadn’t been able to find an excuse to stay, walking his father out and making bullshit conversation and feeling his heart sink deeper with every step further he took from the Tesseract.

Steve hadn’t fared much better. He had, initially, gotten his hands on the Pym particles. But, distracted by a glimpse of Peggy, of seeing first hand the life she’d lived without him, he had hesitated a moment too long before leaving. He thought he’d made it out. He was outside and had signalled to Tony -- who was talking to his father, no way that was a good idea -- and was just waiting for him to join him when he heard shouts. Steve had to make a quick get away after that, leaving Tony to extricate himself as quickly and unsuspiciously as possible, and hope they’d manage to find each other again. Steve got away, but somehow the Pym Particles were lost in the process. Because that just seemed to be how their day was going.

Tony found Steve a couple hours later, sitting forlornly on a bench in some little park. He’d abandoned most of his borrowed uniform in an attempt at disguise, leaving him in a white t-shirt and a pair of alarmingly high-waisted bell bottom pants that he’d gotten from god knew where. There were a few birds scattered by his feet and Tony resisted the urge to make a crack about old men feeding pigeons in the park as he flopped down onto the bench beside him.

“Cheer up, Cap,” he told him, giving him a conciliatory pat on the shoulder. “It’s not so bad.”

Steve lifted his head to glare at him, but it was half-hearted at best. “Not so bad?” he repeated. “Tony, I lost the Pym Particles.”

“And I didn’t get the Tesseract.”

“Oh, great, things are going to be just fine then.”

“Wow. Sarcasm is not a good look on you, Rogers.”

“I’m not in the mood, Tony. We’re trapped here, and apparently we don’t even have the thing we came for. It’s over, we lost.”

“Well... Not exactly.” At Steve’ confused stare, Tony gave a half shrug. “The good news is, we technically have all the time in the world. Once we get the particles, we can go right back to where we were when we left.”

“We still have to get the particles,” Steve pointed out, but there was something almost resembling hope on his face. “And the Tesseract. And they’ll have stepped up security, if they think there was a breach.”

“Yup,” Tony admitted. “And since bouncing in as Captain America Iron Man could probably result in some catastrophically timeline-altering bullshit, we’re probably going to have to play the long game.”

“What do we do in the meantime?” Steve asked. “It’s 1970, and we didn’t exactly come prepared. You technically haven’t even been born yet; I don’t think your driver’s license is going to fly. We’ve got no IDs, no money, and no place to stay -- SHIELD's list of safehouses isn’t going to cut it right now. How are we playing the long game?”

Tony gave him a crooked grin. “I’m gonna tell you something, and I really need you to not judge me over this, Cap.”

“Oh, this should be good.”

“So back when I was thirteen and in my last years of high school, I was young, and bored, and…”

“A pain in the ass?” Steve supplied.

“Precocious.” Tony gave him a dirty look. “Point being, I may have run some scams, started selling fake IDs… Pre technology era, it was surprisingly easy, actually. Which probably doesn’t say much for the security of our country, but works out well for our purposes.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “You want to run scams selling IDs?”

“Well, the IDs would be for us, but basically… Yeah, at least until we get ourselves situated. Unless you got a better idea? I mean, stripping usually pays under the table. Not sure how prominent male strippers were in 1970, but I’m sure you could fetch a pretty penny with that ass.”

Steve gave a long, pained sigh. “Nope. ID scams it is.”

THREE MONTHS LATER

Steve padded down the hall and into the avocado green kitchen that never failed to make his soul cry a little. Tony was already there, sitting at the kitchen table with a legal pad and a mechanical pencil, muttering to himself as he sketched out equations that Steve couldn’t even begin to process. Steve arched an eyebrow at him, beelining for the coffee pot; Tony’s bad habits were starting to rub off on him.

“You get any sleep last night?”

Tony waved his free hand in a so-so gesture before scribbling a few more numbers and looking up to give Steve a slightly crooked grin. “Couple hours.” He made a show of looking Steve up and down, and even though he should have been used to it by now, Steve felt a shiver run up his spine. “Cute shorts, Cap.”

Steve rolled his eyes, shifting to tug at the super short hemline for the umpteenth time. “It’s July, Tony. It’s 90 degrees out there. And apparently this is what the 1970s have to offer for running shorts.”

Tony leaned back in the chair, balancing it on the back two legs. “Hey, I’m not complaining.” He gave him a wink. “Seriously, Steve. You look good.”

Instead of answering, Steve turned to the refrigerator, pulling out a carton of eggs. Since they’d been stuck here, there had been a million little things that Steve had barely even noticed in the future that he missed terribly now, and currently his Super Special Super Soldier Protein Bars (Tony’d had them patented in 2013) were topping the list. He was sure someone, somewhere would have Thoughts on his shifting priorities and how they reflected the Decline Of America, but energy bars were infinitely preferable to having to mix raw eggs into his orange juice, and there was no way around it. He had to pinch his nose as he knocked the drink back, trying to swallow as quickly as he could, but it didn’t do anything to mask the texture.

The sentiment was apparently shared by Tony, who made a face as he watched Steve3. “I could probably reverse engineer some kind of protein bar that meets your super soldier needs,” he offered.

Steve gave him a fond smile. “I’ve had worse,” he told him, which was true, but not by much. “And I don’t think I’d trust your cooking. Anyway, I think I’d rather you reverse engineer a way for us to get the Tesseract.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Tony frowned back down at his legal pad and aggressively scratched out a few numbers. “I’m working on it.”

Steve arched his eyebrows at him. “And I’m going for a run.”

Tony waved him off, but as Steve headed back into the hall, he heard him call, “Bye, Cap! Hate to see you go, but love to watch you leave!”

As he started his regular run through the winding streets of small town Jersey (ew), Steve’s mind started to wander the way it always did when he worked out -- even if he had to hold himself back to keep from attracting unwanted attention. And, the way it seemed to be doing more and more lately, as his worries took a backseat, his mind drifted to Tony instead.

Steve couldn’t say exactly when things had changed between them. It had been the same as usual, at first, the two of them poking and prodding at each other. Steve respected Tony, always had after New York, and he was pretty sure Tony felt the same way about him. But they also knew how to push each other’s buttons, and didn’t seem to be able to stop doing it.

As the spring had dragged on, and their plans to get back into Fort LeHigh went exactly nowhere, and frustrations grew, Steve had expected things to get even worse between them. But instead the exact opposite had happened. Maybe it was the fact that he had a kid now, maybe it was the fact that it felt like the whole world was against them right now, nothing going right, and they were the only ones who had each other’s back. But Tony was different now, and Steve had a feeling that he probably was too.

They had talked about it, once, after yet another tossed out plan. Tony had admitted how much this was weighing on him, how scared he was that this would fail, how many people were counting on them -- Morgan most of all. And then, in a voice that broke Steve’s heart, Tony had admitted that making the effort to get along with Steve made him feel a little bit better about failing to get them out of there. Steve had tried to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, that coming to 1970 may have been Tony’s idea, but that he’d also been right about it being their only chance. But he knew Tony enough to know that that guilt wasn’t going to stop no matter what Steve said. So he made the effort to be kinder to Tony in turn. And somewhere along the way, it stopped being an effort and just became their relationship. They still teased and prodded at each other, but instead of antagonism, it was all fondness, Tony looking delighted every time he’d get a smile out of Steve. They argued too, sometimes, because they were still them, but the arguments were fewer and farther between, and more often than not they’d just fizzle out entirely until they could come back to it later and have an actual conversation instead.

The team was his family, he loved and trusted them with every ounce of his body. But the little house he shared with Tony was starting to feel like home in a way that he hadn’t found since 1942. Steve knew he shouldn’t be getting too comfortable, that he was probably getting too complacent about their lack of progress. But it was easy to take heart in the fact that they’d be able to return to the same point in time. And he was enjoying the familiarity of their little life here. Tony had gotten a job at a local garage, kept making jokes Steve didn’t quite understand about how he was an actual mechanic now, and Steve had managed to pick up some freelance work drawing cartoons for the local paper. On the mornings when Tony hadn’t stayed up all night, Steve would start the coffee pot, making sure there was a fresh mug waiting for him when he dragged himself out of bed for his shift. And in turn, Tony would prepare dinner, because apparently cooking was a thing he’d learned in the past five years, more often than not making Steve’s favourites. They just knew each other now, things easy and familiar. Steve had expected to be bored, to be slowly going crazy with all the sitting around and waiting. But instead it was almost pleasant, like he’d been able to press the pause button on his life for one damn second.

Apparently Steve Rogers was the domestic type, who knew?

And then, of course, there were the other ways that Steve was starting to know Tony. Over the past few weeks, Tony’s teasing ogling had turned a little less… Teasing. Several times now, Steve had caught Tony staring at him when he thought Steve wasn’t looking, his gaze soft and heated and wanting in a way that made Steve squirm. And his comments on Steve’s body had an edge to them, a bit of truth to the words that hadn’t been there before.

And, well, the house wasn’t big. Steve wasn’t going to pretend that he hadn’t heard Tony jerk off on multiple occasions, that he hadn’t strained his ears to listen for the whisper of his name on Tony’s lips, that he hadn’t then jerked himself off with a little more noise than he would normally, picturing Tony do the same. Maybe it was just the fact that it was only the two of them here together, but Steve couldn’t escape feeling that there was something building between them.

***

The day had ended up being scorchingly hot, and Tony had picked up an extra shift at the garage, so Steve had cooked dinner. He’d never really bothered to learn to cook properly -- Tony liked to joke that his taste buds had been so ruined by Depression era food that not even the serum could save them -- but he could manage a few staples. He’d burned the first attempt at cheeseburgers, but the second set were better, and all the chaos was worth it when Tony shuffled into the kitchen, looking exhausted, only to inhale deeply and then positively beam.

“Steve,” he declared, still in his mechanic’s coveralls as he slumped into one of the kitchen chairs with a cold beer in his hand. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I love you.”

It was fully dark by the time they finished their meal. The windows and the kitchen door were wide open in the hopes of catching a breeze, and the sounds of the crickets outside filtered through the house. The heat hadn’t dissipated at all with the disappearance of the sun, giving everything a hazy, dreamy feel. Tony had unzipped the top half of his coveralls, leaving them hanging around his waist with only a threadbare white muscle shirt covering his chest. Steve kept having to look away but couldn’t seem to keep his eyes from drifting right back. Those coveralls were his number one weakness right now; he’d had multiple filthy fantasies about peeling Tony out of them.

“Fuck, it’s hot,” Tony muttered, knocking back the last of his beer. His legs were spread on the chair, posture loose and easy, and Steve watched his throat bob as he swallowed.

“You could go and change,” Steve pointed out, even as his dick screamed at him to shut up, that was the last thing he wanted.

Tony sighed. “Yeah, but then I’d have to move,” he complained, offering Steve a grin. “Anyway, it’s my turn to do the dishes,” he added, not seeming to care that he’d just negated his last point entirely.

“No, hey. You've had a long day,” Steve said. “I’ll do them.”

Tony hummed, considering. “You wash and I’ll dry?”

“Done deal.”

Washing the dishes with Tony was one of his favourite chores, and tonight was no exception. They alternated between companionable silence as they worked, broken only by the gentle splash of water as Steve rinsed another dish, and easy chatter, nohing of importance, just dumb jokes and mindless anecdotes.

“So then,” Tony concluded, giving a glass a half-assed swipe with his dishcloth and putting it away mostly wet. Steve thought about calling him on it, but didn’t. “It turned out that he’d somehow wired the radio to the headlights? And every time they came on, the radio would turn off. That’s why it wouldn’t work at night.”

It wasn’t even that funny of a story, but Tony’s laughter was contagious. Steve turned to smile at him, and something in his chest caught. Tony was grinning, face lit up with humor and a hint of anticipation as he stared back at Steve. He had a lock of hair falling over his forehead, curling in the hot summer air, and he was still wearing those damn coveralls, biceps on display. Hardly aware of what he was doing, Steve let the dishcloth slip into the sink and curled a soapy wet hand around the back of Tony’s neck. He had a brief moment to notice Tony’s tiny shiver at the water on his skin, and then Steve leaned in and kissed him. Tony’s lips were warm and soft and slightly parted, practically inviting Steve to deepen the kiss, to suck gently on his upper lip. Tony made a soft noise in response, barely more than a huff of air, and all of a sudden Steve realized what he was doing.

With a start he pulled back, almost immediately missing the touch of Tony’s skin beneath his fingers. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” he burst out, staring at the floor and pressing his fingers gingerly to his own lips, like he could hide what he’d done. “I don’t know what that was. It’s just the heat, and, and… You…”

Stomach twisting with nerves, Steve chanced a glance up at Tony, expecting him to be upset, or angry, or even hurt for some reason. But instead Tony was just staring back at him with a soft, pleased smile on his lips. “It’s okay, Steve.”

And sure, he probably just meant that he was forgiving Steve’s lapse of judgement, Steve knew that. But he could also be giving Steve permission, and so he leaned in, kissing him again. And when Tony didn’t shove him away, only sighed against his mouth and pressed his palms against Steve’s abs through his tight, white-t-shirt, Steve deepened it once more, pressing his tongue past Tony’s lips to taste him. His hands shifted to grip at Tony’s hips, thumbs sliding over the bare skin where his shirt didn’t quite touch his coveralls, and he was only half-aware of turning them until he had Tony pressed back against the counter, Steve looming over him and holding him in place.

They were both breathing hard by the time he pulled back again, and Steve couldn’t stop staring at Tony. His hair was more mussed now, though neither of them had touched it, little strands curling around his neck and ears. His lips were red and swollen, eyes dark and heavy, and he was still giving Steve that soft smile. He tilted his head a little, squinting like he was trying to read him, and then he grinned.

“Close the door, Steve.”

Steve blinked at him, wondering if he was somehow so horny for it that a little kissing had completely fried his brain. “What?”

Tony laughed softly, the sound sending something warm and pleasant furling through Steve’s stomach -- though that may have been helped by the way that Tony slid his hands up Steve’s chest, dragging over his tight nipples in the process, and fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

“Shut the kitchen door, Steve. So we can go to bed.”

Steve nodded, a little dazed, and reluctantly let go of Tony’s hips. He didn’t know if Tony meant to go to bed because if they’d reached this point it was time to call it a night, or to go to bed, but he moved over to the kitchen door. He could feel Tony watching him with every step, his gaze heavy on his back and setting Steve’s nerves into hyperdrive. He shut the door firmly, the click of the lock seeming thunderous in the weighted silence of the room. Swallowing thickly he turned back to Tony.

“So, uh…” His voice sounded strange to his own ears and he trailed off, not sure what he even wanted to ask. Tony seemed to know though, giving Steve an amused smile. He held out his hand toward him.

“Come on, handsome.”

Steve moved back across the room, and curled his fingers around Tony’s. There were calluses on Tony’s hand, dragging against his own smooth skin, and Steve shivered at the sensation. There was a soft huff of laughter from Tony and then he was tugging gently on Steve’s arm, leading him down the hall toward their bedrooms. It felt hopelessly domestic, and something that had nothing to do with sex tugged at his heart. They didn’t speak, not even when they reached Tony’s bedroom door. Tony didn’t hesitate, his hand still clasped around Steve’s as he pulled him inside, and Steve was helpless to do anything but keep following.

Tony led him over to the side of the bed, angling himself to face Steve as he sat down beside him. Steve’s breath caught as Tony locked eyes with him, running his hand lightly over his chest before he curled his hand in the cotton of his t-shirt, tugging at him gently until they were kissing again. Steve let himself melt into it, hyper-aware of every point of contact between them as heat flooded through his body. Steve let his hand slide over Tony’s ribs and the two of them tipped back against the mattress until they were lying side by side, sharing kisses so sweet they almost ached. One of Tony’s hands came up, running through Steve’s hair, and he shuddered against him, pulling back to look at Tony with heavy eyes.

“Tony, what…” Steve tightened his hand against Tony’s waist, not wanting him to pull away. “What are we doing?”

Tony huffed out another soft laugh, shifting closer until his chest was pressed to Steve’s. “I think that’s kind of obvious, Cap,” he told him, voice low and rough.

Steve whined softly, his hand clenching against Tony’s side before he forced himself to loosen his grip. “What… What about Pepper?” he asked, because he couldn’t not.

But Tony just smiled, unperturbed. “Don’t worry about it. We have an understanding,” he told him vaguely before pressing in closer. Steve could feel their lips brush against each other, unbearably intimate. “Just relax, Steve,” Tony hummed. “I want this. I think you want this too, right?”

Steve nodded. “Yeah,” he said, voice rasping over the word. Tony beamed.

“Then don’t worry about anything else.”

Tony kissed him again, soft and slow, and Steve let himself sink into it, everything that wasn’t Tony’s lips on his fading from his mind. Tony shifted against him, pushing himself up on one elbow so he could press Steve onto his back, leaning over him. He moved his hand up under Steve’s t-shirt, and Steve gasped a little, abs flexing at the touch of his cool fingers. Tony grinned against his mouth, tugging at his lower lip.

“There we go,” he hummed. “God Steve, you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this?” He pushed at the fabric, movements getting a little sloppy. “Come on, gorgeous. Let me see you.”

Steve felt hot all over, could feel his cheeks flushing red. He pushed himself up far enough to haul his t-shirt off over his head.

“Oh yeah,” Tony breathed. “There we go.”

Steve rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his fond smile. “You know, you have seen me shirtless before,” he pointed out. “This morning, even.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed, but he sounded distracted, eyes locked somewhere around Steve’s nipples. “But it’s different now.”

Steve arched an eyebrow, peering down his chest skeptically. “I didn’t run that hard,” he told him, voice teasing.

Tony shook his head. “You’re not different. It’s just… Knowing I actually get to touch you, get to have you?” He visibly shuddered at the thought, and the idea of Tony wanting him that much sent something hot and squirmy rolling through Steve’s body.

“Tony, fuck,” he muttered, hips rolling up as he yanked Tony back down on top of him. Tony made a startled noise that shifted to groan as he ended up with Steve’s cock pressing into his hip.

“God,” he breathed, breath hot on Steve’s skin. He dragged his teeth over the tendon in his neck. “The things I wanna do to you.”

“Please,” Steve moaned, sliding his hand down Tony’s back to squeeze at his ass through the coveralls. “Whatever you want, anything.”

Tony grinned into his neck. “Whatever I want, huh? Never thought I’d hear those words coming from you, Cap.”

Steve opened his mouth to offer some kind of retort, but bit out a string of curses instead as Tony’s thumb found his left nipple, rubbing over the pert flesh. Tony was barely touching him, just flicks of his fingers and teasing little brushes of skin on skin, but every point of contact was setting Steve on fire, feeling like it was on the cusp of too much. He let his eyes fall shut, hands clenching periodically over Tony’s ass and side as his cock throbbed in his shorts.

“Tony, god, please. I want…”

“What?” Tony asked, and his voice was thick and rough. Steve opened his eyes again to see Tony staring down at him hungrily, biting down hard on his lower lip. “What do you want Steve?”

“Please,” he whined, dragging his hand back up to Tony’s hips to hold him in place while he rocked his hips up against him. “Wanna… Touch. Please.”

He could feel the hot air of Tony’s breath as he laughed against his neck, and then he slid lower down Steve’s waist, sucking the nipple he’d already been teasing into his mouth. Steve didn’t even try to hold back his shout as Tony bit down on the tender skin. His body arched up into the touch, nearly unseating Tony entirely.

“Christ,” Tony muttered. “You’re so fucking sensitive.”

Steve whined as Tony’s warm heat left his body, but when he opened his eyes in protest, Tony was grinning at him as he stripped off his tank top. Steve let his eyes drag hungrily down Tony’s chest, noted the way he flushed a little in response, and then scrambled to arch his hips and kick his shorts off down his hips. Tony was doing the same with his coveralls, and distantly Steve felt a little disappointed that he hadn’t had the chance to peel him out of them himself. But then his cock was springing free, resting hot and hard against his belly, and Steve couldn’t stop himself from curling his hand around it, groaning in relief.

It took him a minute to realize that Tony had stopped undressing, staring at Steve’s cock with heavy eyes and his lips parted. “Holy shit, Steve,” he ground out. Then he was kicking off the last of his clothes and moving to lean over Steve again, covering his hand with his. Steve gasped at the sensation -- he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had someone else touching him, and this was Tony -- and his cock grew heavier in their shared grip. “Fuck, Steve.” Tony bit down on his earlobe, hard, tightening his grip around him. “You gotta let me taste you, honey, please.”

There was suddenly nothing that Steve wanted more and he whined a little desperately, catching Tony’s lips in a desperate, sloppy kiss before Tony moved down his body, kissing sporadically over Steve’s chest as he went.

From the first flick of Tony’s tongue against the head of his cock, Steve was lost. He rolled his head back, knowing if he tried to look at Tony now he’d last all of five seconds. He panted up at the ceiling instead, body thrumming and over sensitive. The hot summer air was giving everything a dreamy, dazed feel, not quite real, and he gave himself over to the sensation, losing sight of time and what was happening, but hyperconscious of how good he felt, the way his skin lit up everywhere that Tony touched him. His mouth was hot and wet, swallowing around Steve over and over again, until he couldn’t focus on anything else.

Steve had no idea how much longer it had been when he felt his balls draw up tight, his orgasm suddenly right there. He gave a ragged moan, patting clumsily at Tony’s shoulder.

“Tony,” he mumbled, and he hadn’t thought he’d been screaming, but his voice sure sounded like it. “Gonna…”

But Tony didn’t pull off, just swallowed him deeper. Wondering if maybe he hadn’t understood, Steve dragged his eyes open only to look down and find Tony staring back at him intensely. There was a look in his eyes like making Steve feel good was the greatest thing he had ever accomplished, and Steve couldn’t hold on any longer. Clenching his fingers in the sheets hard enough to ache, Steve spilled down Tony’s throat, cursing when that only made Tony swallow harder around him.

When he’d finished, Steve collapsed flat on his back on the mattress, body limp and ears ringing. For a long moment he was only aware of his own breathing, his heart racing in his ears. And then he felt Tony shifting against him, opened his eyes to see Tony on his knees beside him, jerking off frantically. He was running his mouth again, but Steve couldn’t seem to focus on what he was saying, only catching bits here and there as Tony rambled about how gorgeous he was, how hot that had been, how he couldn’t wait to do it again, and again, and again. Steve couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from the sight of Tony’s cock moving through his fist. He was thicker than Steve had expected, the tip wet as it poked between his fingers over and over again. He wanted to touch him, taste him, but he could seem to find the energy to do much more than reach up, mirroring Tony’s earlier movements and curling his hand over Tony’s, feeling the rhythm of him jerking himself off.

Tony’s eyes snapped to his, his face looking almost comically startled, and then he was making a strangled noise before he came across Steve’s chest. It seemed to go on forever and then he was collapsing onto his side, not quite touching Steve but close enough that he could feel the heat from his skin anyway. It was like second nature for Steve to shift his arm, stroking his fingers feather light up and down Tony’s back.

He drifted for awhile, everything still having that hazy, unreal feel. At some point he’d been aware of the mattress shifting, Tony getting up only to return a few moments later, giving them both a cursory wipe down with a damp cloth. Distantly Steve had thought that maybe he should get up, return to his own room, that maybe Tony wouldn’t want him actually sleeping beside him. But before he could make a move, Tony had tossed the cloth in the direction of the bathroom and flopped down beside him again, this time slinging an arm across Steve’s waist. His skin was hot and sticky, but Steve couldn’t bear the thought of getting him to move.

He must have slept, because suddenly he was awake again, aware of the crickets chirping outside the open bedroom window and Tony breathing into his neck. His breathing was steady and even, but somehow Steve knew he was awake anyway. He wondered what he was thinking of, if he was just riding the high of an amazing orgasm, or if he was thinking of home, of his family. That made Steve think of Pepper again, wondering what exactly ‘an understanding’ meant, and he felt guilt twist low in his stomach.

“Tony?”

“Hmm?” Tony’s voice was soft but alert, and Steve drew in a deep breath.

“What’s your ‘understanding’ with Pepper? Did you, I mean… You didn’t just say that so we’d keep going, did you?”

Tony made a disgruntled noise and pushed himself up with the arm not draped over Steve. He stared down at him, eyes slightly narrowed, although he didn’t actually look offended. “What, you think I was so thirsty for it that I lied so you wouldn’t stop me from cheating on my wife?”

Steve winced; put like that, it sounded really bad. “Well, no. And I don’t know if you noticed, but I wasn’t exactly putting much effort into stopping you, I just…” He trailed off, giving him an awkward, helpless shrug. Tony blinked at him a moment longer and then flopped back down on the mattress, fingers drawing idle patterns over Steve’s abs. The silence dragged out between them and Steve was just about to do something to break it when Tony spoke, the words mumbled against Steve’s shoulder.

“Pepper and I aren’t actually together anymore.”

Steve blinked. “Oh,” he said, a little dazed. He didn’t know what he had been thinking, but that was the last thing he had expected. “Oh shit, Tony. I’m sorry.” He felt his heart sink. “Was it… Was it because you came back? To help us with the whole time travel thing, I mean?”

“What? No! God no, nothing like that! Pepper was actually the one pushing me to do it. No, we, uh... actually... haven’t been like that for awhile.”

He sighed, flopping onto his back and slinging an arm across his eyes. Steve immediately missed the weight of his arm across his middle, but he curled his hand around the back of Tony’s neck instead and waited patiently for him to figure out what he wanted to say.

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “After I came back from… From space, things were different. It wasn’t anything she did. It probably wasn’t even anything I did, it was just… Different. Whatever we had wasn’t there anymore. She knew it too. But then she told me she was pregnant, had been before that squid-faced fuck arrived even. And I…” Tony pulled his hand away and rolled his head so he could look over at Steve. “I don’t know, Steve. For the first time since we lost, I remembered what hope felt like again.” He smiled, completely different from how he had smiled at Steve earlier, but just as warm. “She wasn’t even born yet, but Morgan was already saving my life. I wanted that baby more than I’d ever wanted anything in my entire life.” He snorted, his smile going uneven. “Even my dad’s approval,” he added, and Steve winced but Tony’s eyes were dancing. “So Pep and I talked and talked and talked and talked, and eventually we decided… Fuck it. We may not have been in love anymore, but we still love each other. We’re always gonna love each. And with all the shit we’ve been through together, we figured we could totally platonically coparent a baby.” He shrugged. “It’s been working out pretty fantastic, actually, but uh… Yeah. We haven’t been together in like five years so… You’re off the hook.”

“Oh.” Steve nodded. “That’s good.” He knew he should have felt better knowing this and he did. But he also felt weirdly bad about it. He thought every day about what had happened when Thanos’s minions had arrived in New York, replaying it all over and over. This felt like just one more thing that he could have stopped, like maybe if he’d just been there they could have ended it before Tony ever went into space, and maybe Tony and Pepper would still be together.

He didn’t say any of this out loud, of course, but Tony seemed to know something was up anyway. His eyes narrowed a bit before he rolled back onto his side, hand resting comfortably on Steve’s stomach like it belonged there. “Hey. Whatever you’re thinking? Stop. This really is for the best, I’m not lying. We still love each other, and it’s working really well this way. Honestly, I’m not sure what would have happened if we tried to do this as a marriage, but I don’t think it would have ended well. And anyway, the past is the past Steve. There’s no point in worrying about it because we can’t go back and change it.”

Steve gave him a look. “We’re living in 1970, Tony.”

“Okay, but we’re not changing the past, we’re just… Borrowing from it. Well, if you ignore the idea that we’re making minute changes in time just by our ongoing existence here, and that the longer we stay the further those ripples will travel. But we’re not actively trying to change the past, and anyway, all of that should be negated when we eventually return the stones to their original point, so…” He waved his hand, giving Steve a sheepish smile. “Point being, I think we both did things we regret. Going over and over them isn’t going to help anything. Just gotta… Stop thinking about it and move on.”

Steve was quiet for a long moment, combing his fingers absently through Tony’s hair; it was oddly soothing. “I don’t think I can,” he admitted quietly. He gave a short laugh. “Tactical mind. I keep running through scenarios in my head. All the things I could have done differently, all the ways it could have played out instead… I can’t stop it.”

Tony lifted his head to stare at him, eyes wide and horrified. “Still?” he demanded. “You’ve been carrying that around for the last five years? Jesus, Steve.” He shook his head, blowing out a long breath. “Okay, well. I know I can’t make that stop for you, but I can promise you that even if we can’t change the past, we are going to make up for it. We’re going to fix this, Steve. You and me, together.”

Steve nodded, curling his arm tighter around Tony’s back as something in him eased a little. “Together,” he repeated quietly.

***

Steve woke up the next morning alone in Tony’s bed. The air filtering through the window was already hot and humid, promising another sticky day. For a brief moment he was a little disappointed that he hadn’t woken up with Tony beside him, but he could smell bacon and coffee drifting down the hall from the kitchen, so he slid out of bed, hauling on the boxers that he’d left on the floor and padded down the hall to the kitchen.

Like most mornings, Tony was working at the kitchen table, but he looked up as Steve came in and his expression went a little dazed as he took in Steve’s barely dressed state. “Uhh.” Tony made a punched out noise before he seemed to get himself under control, offering Steve a broad grin.

“Morning, Cap,” he said, voice sounding a little raspy like… Well, like he’d been sucking cock. Between that and his obvious appreciation of his body, Steve felt his dick twitch in his shorts. He shifted a little, giving Tony a bright smile in return.

“Hi Tony,” he said, moving over to the coffee pot. He could feel Tony’s eyes on him as he poured the mug and when he turned back around it took a minute for Tony’s eyes to drag back up from he’d been staring at his ass. Steve couldn’t help his pleased little grin as he sat across from Tony at the table. “Any progress?” he asked, nodding at the legal pad covered in Tony’s weird shorthand.

Tony shrugged, but he didn’t even glance at the paper, eyes trained on Steve. “Same as usual,” he told him, taking another swallow of coffee. “Surprisingly hard to hack a security system that hasn’t been automated yet. And they’ve really stepped up their shit.” He eyed Steve, tilting his head a little. “You going for your run this morning?”

Steve shrugged, glancing down at his mostly naked state and grinning ruefully. “I mean, I might put on a few more clothes first, but yeah, probably…” He eyed Tony, who was ogling him again. “Why?” he asked, voice a little lower.

Tony slunk a little lower in his seat, eyes going dark as they locked with Steve’s. “I don’t have to go to the garage until a little later this morning, since I worked late yesterday and everything.” He grinned then, eyebrows waggling. “Wanna do a different kind of cardio this morning?”

They didn’t actually make it to the bedroom this time, only getting as far as the kitschy sunken living room before Tony got his hand in Steve’s boxers and the two of them collapsed to the ground in an uncoordinated heap. Tony jerked him off right there, whispering filthy things into his ear until he came. Steve had barely caught his breath before he was shoving Tony onto his back so he could return the favor.

Afterward, they both lay splayed out on their backs, panting up at the ceiling. Steve hummed, vaguely aware of Tony squirming around beside him. “I never noticed that crack on the ceiling,” he said. “Should have asked for a discount from the realtor.” Tony giggled, right in his ear, and Steve realized that all the squirming had been so he could move closer to Steve, pressing up against his side despite the heat and slinging a leg over his hip.

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time we get trapped forty years in the past and have to buy a house together,” Tony promised, giving a contented little sigh against Steve’s neck. It was strangely comforting having him close like that, leaving Steve feeling settled. He curled his arm around Tony, rubbing over the bare skin at his hip.

“It this… A thing now?” he asked.

There was a long moment of quiet from Tony before he answered, like he was choosing his words carefully. “It’s… Whatever you need it to be, Steve,” he settled on at last. Steve wasn’t entirely sure where that left them, but for now he would take it.

***

Tony whistled to himself as he rooted around in the engine of the Dodge Challenger, in a ridiculously pleasant mood. He was genuinely enjoying working as a mechanic; it was good hands-on work, helping to keep his brain calm, but there was a simplicity to the older engines that he had always preferred. There was a reason he’d kept so many classics in his own garage. It was more than that too though. Since he and Steve had started sleeping together, things felt brighter somehow. The urgency that had been plaguing him since they had fucked up their first time heist, the sense of panic that he had been trying to hide, it had all faded. He was still worried, of course, still working on a new plan, but it didn’t feel so hopeless now. Between the two of them, he knew they’d get it done.

Tony had moved to grab a wrench from the workbench when Joe wandered out of the office, leaning against the doorway. “Barbecue and beers at my place Saturday night. All the fellas are coming. You in?”

“Oh.” Tony couldn’t help his grin. He still wasn’t entirely used to his coworkers seeming to just like him, not wanting anything from him because, as far as they knew, he didn’t have anything to offer. “Yeah, sounds great!”

He turned back to the car, but Joe didn’t move away. Tony could feel his eyes on him, and he turned back, eyebrows arched expectantly.

“You know…” Joe hesitated another moment. “My brother never married. His roommate comes with him to family dinners and for Christmas. Charlie’s a great guy, and he and my brother have a really nice life. No one here would give you grief if your… roommate came along for a drink, is all I’m saying.”

Tony blinked, not quite sure what to do with that. “Oh. Uh, thanks. I will… Let Steve know.”

Joe gave him a warm smile then, followed by a quick pat on the back before he headed back into the office without another word. Tony turned back to the car, utterly nonplussed.

“Steve’s not my boyfriend,” he grumbled at the engine, but even as he said the words, his stomach twisted a little and a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Pepper yelled, ‘liar!’ He blinked down at the mechanics beneath him, thought of how they ate dinner together every night, how long they could spend talking and laughing together, the animosity left over from the last few years faded entirely. How the sex they had could just as often be considered, well, love making, as much as he hated that particular phrase. Tony felt something catch in his chest. “Oh shit, is Steve my boyfriend?”

When he laid it all out like that, like an equation to be solved, it definitely sounded like a relationship. But even bigger, when he focused on Steve’s face, really pictured his smile and his laugh, he felt something in his belly go warm and soft. He didn’t know how he had missed it before, but it was the same feeling he used to have when he thought of Pepper, and Rhodey before that. Tony groaned, sinking forward against the edge of the car.

“Oh god,” he muttered. “I’m in love with Steve Rogers.”

The rest of his shift passed in a blur, Tony caught off guard and a little overwhelmed. The thing was, when he really stopped and thought about it, these feelings weren’t exactly new. In fact, he had a feeling that even while he’d been completely in love with Pepper, and even when he and Steve had been at their absolute worst, there’d been a part of Tony still a little in love with Steve. The way they’d worked so intuitively together, even when they were at odds, the way they’d be so in sync over the weirdest things… there’d always been a spark there. And now alone together, able to talk, and relax, and really take the time to understand each other, he supposed it made sense that that spark would grow into something real.

When he finally wandered in the front door, mind still a bit of a wreck, Steve was standing in the kitchen, cooking them dinner, which looked like it consisted of panned fried hamburgers and… Tomato soup, for some reason. He must have heard the door, but he didn’t look up, humming to himself as the meat sizzled in the frying pan. His hips were swinging a little in rhythm to whatever song he had playing in his head, and his shoulders were loose and relaxed, carrying exactly none of the tension that Tony typically associated with Steve. The whole scene was hopelessly domestic, and Tony wanted nothing more than to step up behind Steve, wrap his arms around his waist and kiss the back of his neck, just to see the squirmy little ticklish shoulder shrug that he would get in response. He was totally gone for the man.

“Aw, fuck,” Tony muttered to himself.

Steve did look up at that, looking over at Tony with a bright smile. “Hey Tony.”

“Hey honey, I’m home,” he answered automatically, getting a chuckle out of Steve before he frowned at Tony a little.

“Hey, you all right? You’re looking a little stressed.”

Tony waved him off, stripping off the top of his coveralls and noting the way Steve’s eyes went dark at the sight -- it hadn’t taken him long to realize that Steve had a thing for this particular look. “Just a long day,” he reassured him, hopping up on the counter beside Steve. He made a grab for some of the cooked burger and got his hand swatted with the spatula for his trouble. “Wow, domestic abuse,” he deadpanned.

Steve rolled his eyes. “What a drama queen,” he retorted, equally dry. “They’re almost done, just a few more minutes. Then we can sit down, and you can tell me allll about your long day.” He looked back up to give Tony a lecherous look. “Or not, and we can just skip to the part where I make you feel better,” he offered, waggling his eyebrows and looking pleased when Tony snorted.

Tony was quiet a moment, watching Steve’s hands manipulate the food. “Hey, Steve?” he said finally. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

Tony fluttered his eyelashes at him, not wanting it to come across too seriously, in case he was reading everything all wrong. “Are you my boyfriend?” he sing-songed.

Steve choked on his own spit, coughing for a minute, but when he’d caught his breath back he was grinning like an absolute idiot. “I mean, I guess, sure,” he offered. “I hadn’t given it much thought.”

Tony arched an eyebrow at him; he knew Steve well enough to know that the flush on his neck said otherwise.

“Okay, I’ve maybe thought about it once or twice,” he admitted sheepishly. “We can be, uh… Boyfriends, if you want. Like you said, this is whatever we want it to be. I know these are weird circumstances, but if we want to, we can call it boyfriends for now.”

For just an instant Tony felt his smile freeze on his face, but he masked it quickly, leaning forward to give Steve a sloppy kiss on the cheek before he could read the look in his eyes. “In that case, boyfriend, call me when dinner’s ready. I’m just gonna wash up.”

He slipped off the counter and headed down the hall for the bathroom, adding an extra wiggle to his walk to make Steve laugh. But once he hit the bathroom, he shut the door behind him and leaned back against it with a sigh. Boyfriends for now pretty much said it all. He probably shouldn’t have been surprised. These were wild circumstances. There was nothing wrong with Steve wanting to take a bit of comfort where he could find it. And if Tony had been hoping for something more, that could stay between him and the bathroom walls.

***

They didn’t talk about it again, at least not in so many words, but they talked about everything else under the sun and that was somehow even better. Steve loved sex with Tony, really truly did. Just a look from the other man could set him shivering, heat spiking up and down his spine. Tony seemed to take special delight in finding all the ways he could make Steve fall apart, surprising him over and over again. Steve had all but given up his own bedroom, spending his nights with Tony instead and they’d spend hours lying there sometimes, Steve splayed out and feeling like he was slowly going out of his mind as Tony kissed and touched and teased every square inch of his body.

But afterwards, when Steve had come more times than he’d thought possible, when Tony’d had his fill and would slide off Steve to stretch out beside him instead, for Steve that was almost better than the sex. They’d talk well into the early hours of the morning. Steve had told Tony how desperately lonely he’d been for the past five years, how nothing he’d done seemed to ease that ache inside him. Tony talked about Morgan, how completely he missed her, telling story after story about how brilliant she was already, putting him to shame, but also how creative and sweet and kind. He’d sound awed when he talked about her, which had led to confessions about how his own father had been. Steve had been horrified, hands tightening around Tony like he could somehow make up for it. And then next night, when he told Tony how proud he was of him for letting the bullshit die with Howard, that even from the brief interaction he’d witnessed, he could tell Tony was an amazing father, Tony hadn’t bothered to hide the way he’d choked up a little.

Nothing was off the table (except, perhaps, their exact feelings for each other, but neither of them brought it up so it was fine), the darkness, and the heat, and the fact that they were the only two here who could understand their situation making it easy for secrets to spill out. Maybe it was just the fact that they were caught in a bit of a limbo, that deep down Steve knew that nothing they did here would really matter once they got back to their proper point in time. But his time with Tony was easing something inside him that he hadn’t even realized was aching, was making him feel whole again. He wanted to get back, to make things right, of course he did. He just also couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t mind being stuck here with Tony just a little longer.

They slowly settled into even more of a routine than they’d had before. They ate dinner together every night, talked about their day before they’d slink off to bed together. Some nights they wouldn’t even do anything, just sprawl out on the bed, touching despite the heat until they drifted off to sleep. They went grocery shopping together once a week, and one day Tony came home with a second hand badminton net that he’d found somewhere. Steve had never played badminton, but they set the net up anyway, and Tony had showed him how to play. There were more barbecues, with the guys from Tony’s work, mostly, but there were a couple for the paper that Steve worked at too. Nobody seemed to look askance at Steve bringing along his roommate. Maybe it was just an extension of fighting side-by-side for so long, but having Tony with him here just felt right in some kind of visceral way that Steve couldn’t put a name to but that he loved anyway.

***

Steve was once again going over the Fort LeHigh plans that they had managed to cobble together, when the front door slammed open. “STEVE!” Tony hollered at the top of his lungs.

“I’m right here,” Steve answered, turning to meet Tony as he heard him rush up the hall. “What’s wrong?”

But even as he asked, Tony came into view, an enormous smile on his face, and it was pretty clear that there was nothing at all wrong.

“What?” he asked again, because there still had to be a reason that Tony was home hours early, grinning like an idiot.

“I can’t believe I forgot,” Tony told him. “Do you know what tonight is?” he added, even though he knew perfectly well that Steve didn’t. “Planet of the Apes comes out. In theatres!”

Steve blinked at him. “Is that all?”

“Is that all?” Tony repeated incredulously. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

Steve cracked then, laughing. “Tony, you’ve seen that movie more than a hundred times. Which I know because you’ve made me watch it a hundred times.”

“Yeah, but this is different,” Tony insisted. “It’ll be in theatres, Steve.”

“You’ve done that before, too,” Steve pointed out. “Remember? That 45th anniversary theatre showing or whatever? I distinctly recall you and Colonel Rhodes talking about it.”

Tony just shook his head. “It’s different,” he said again, making a face at Steve. “Just hurry up and get dressed, you damn dirty ape.” He waggled his eyebrows, making a show of staring at Steve’s bare chest; he hadn’t bothered getting redressed after his run. “I’m taking you out.”

And really, Steve was helpless to resist that thrilled look on Tony’s face. And even though he had to pinch Tony several times to keep him from whispering the lines along with the characters, it was a very enjoyable evening. They’d sat at the back of the theatre, Tony claiming it was because Steve would block the view for whatever poor asshole got stuck sitting behind them, but halfway through the movie, when their shared popcorn was gone, he curled his greasy fingers with Steve’s, rested their joined hands on Steve’s knee, and snuggled into him a little, resting his head against Steve’s shoulder. He could smell the faint, pleasant scent of Tony’s shampoo, and couldn’t resist turning his head a little to press his face against the soft curls of his hair. He pressed a soft kiss against Tony’s scalp and in return received a soft little content sigh from Tony.

Abruptly Steve realized that, for all the activities they’d done together, they hadn’t been on an actual proper date before -- and that’s what this was, whatever Tony’s original intentions had been in dragging him out.

Settling a little more comfortably against Tony’s side, Steve decided that was something he was going to fix immediately.

So the next morning, after Tony had made their customary Saturday morning pancakes, and they were sitting around the kitchen table, pleasantly full and content, Steve curled his hand around Tony’s. “So listen,” he said, doing his best to ignore the way Tony gave his hand a heated look before glancing up to meet his eyes. “I’ve been thinking, and we’re under a lot of stress, with working and trying to find a way out of here and everything.” Admittedly, it wasn’t his best excuse; the stress was real, but he felt a step removed from it, and was pretty sure Tony did too. Even from a purely business perspective (if you could consider the Avengers a business), this had definitely become the easiest mission he’d ever been on. Tony seemed to agree, giving him a mildly skeptical look but gesturing for him to continue. “So I was thinking that it probably wouldn’t hurt for us to plan to take a break regularly,” he said, feeling his cheeks starting to glow. “And I had a really fun time last night, so I was wondering if you’d let me take you out tonight? Repay the favour?” he added, all in a rush.

Tony tilted his head at him, curiously, and then he was beaming bright and wide. “Steve. Are you asking me out on a date?”

Steve shrugged, but he was helpless not to return Tony’s brilliant smile. “I mean, I guess?”

And just like that, Saturday night date night was born.

Steve knew he shouldn’t get too complacent, that getting used to this was only going to end in heartbreak. Tony had said this was whatever they needed it be, just whatever it took to get them through. The implication was pretty clear that once they got back home -- and they would, eventually, Steve had to believe that or else what were they even doing anymore -- things would go back to something like normal. He probably wasn’t doing himself any favors, giving himself this glimpse of what they could really have. But he knew, deep down, that he wasn’t going to be able to forget it either way, so he figured he might as well enjoy it now.

***

Tony actually happened to think vegetables were delicious. But there was something about the very specific look of consternation that Steve would get every time he found another box of poptarts or gummy candies or whatever hidden in the cart that Tony couldn’t get enough of. He was feeling punchy today for some reason, snickering to himself with everything he managed to slide into without Steve noticing. There was a good chance that Steve was just humoring him, since Tony couldn’t imagine anyone actually sneaking something past the man, but then again he’d worked with the STRIKE team for almost a full year without realizing they were literal Nazis, so who knew? Either way, he was having a stupid amount of fun with it.

“Oh my god,” Steve groaned as he realized that under the loaves of bread and packages of pasta, Tony had managed to fill the entire bottom of the cart with bags of jumbo marshmallows. “You are literally five years old,” he added.

Tony just shrugged, giving Steve a sugar sweet smile, and Steve fought back his own laughter.

“Make you a deal,” he offered. “You can keep three bags of marshmallows if you stop adding in everything else you see.”

“Oooh.” Tony eyed him; he didn’t actually care about the sweets, but tormenting Steve was its own brand of delightful, especially now, when Steve took it as the gentle teasing it was meant to be, didn’t get his back up about it. “Throw in some chocolate and graham crackers, and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Steve stared blankly back at him. “What do you need graham crackers and chocolate for?”

“Steven Grant Rogers,” Tony hissed. “Are you trying to tell me you don’t know what s’mores are?”

Steve didn’t even last a full second before he was breaking, snickering to himself. “You’re so gullible sometimes. I may not have ever had them, but I do know what a s’more is, Tony.”

Tony frowned, tilting his head before shaking. “Okay, nope, I give. I can’t tell -- are you telling the truth, or are you still fucking with me?”

“The… Truth?”

“You’ve really, honestly never had a s’more before? How is that even possible??”

Steve gave him a fond eye roll, even as he added the extra ingredients to the cart. “Contrary to what you seem to think, I wasn’t ever actually a boy scout. There weren’t any camping trips in 1930s Brooklyn. Where do you think I would have melted the marshmallows? On the heater? Admittedly, I spent a lot of time in the woods during the war. But that wasn’t exactly a romp with campfires and ghost stories, what with the whole hiding from the Nazis and Hydra thing.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Tony muttered. “But after that? You’ve really never had s’mores since? With the team or something? Nat seems like she’d enjoy a good s’more.”

Steve just shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. Never had ‘em.”

“Well, that changes tonight, Rogers. We’re having a bonfire.”

Tony had added three packs of hot dogs to the cart -- Steve would eat them, he knew -- and after they got home, relegated him to the kitchen while he got everything set up in the yard. Steve had looked skeptical, but when Tony finally called him out to where he had a bonfire burning brightly and a blanket spread out on the ground (because some of us have minor grass allergies, Steven), he looked impressed.

“Wow. Tony, this is… Really nice.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to sound so surprised,” he grumbled, offsetting his complaint by wrapping his arms around Steve’s waist and kissing him on the cheek.

“No, I’m not,” Steve said, holding Tony against him a moment longer when he started to pull away. “You just… Don’t really seem like the camping type,” he added tactfully.

Tony snorted. “I’ve camped! … Once… Okay, a camper I am not. But Rhodey and I used to have bonfires on the beach when we were at MIT, and I was the designated fire starter. And when I was a kid, Jarvis used to let me help set up the fireplaces in the old house. I don’t know why, that was one of my favourite things.” He hummed, quiet and contemplative for a moment, and then pulled away to grab a package of hot dogs, slamming them into Steve’s chest. “Now grab a stick, Rogers, and start roasting.”

They sat out there for hours, cooking, and talking, and laughing. The sun had faded and the stars had come out long before Tony pulled out the s’mores ingredients, the two of them getting in a sticky mess as they squashed together the sweet treats.

“So?” Tony asked when they were full and satiated and sitting back on the blanket. He arched an eyebrow at Steve. “What’s the s’more verdict, Captain Handsome?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know, I think they’re kind of overrated. I prefer the marshmallows alone,” he told him, popping one of said marshmallows, unroasted, into his mouth.

Tony blinked at him. “Overrated?” he repeated incredulously. Then he saw the way that Steve was grinning at him, lips twitching up in a smirk. “You are such a troll,” he grumbled. “I’ll show you overrated.” Without any further warning, he launched himself at Steve, feeling a little gratified at the almost inaudible grunt that Steve made as he took his weight. He knew Steve could take him easily, especially when he didn’t even have an Iron Man suit, but Steve pretended otherwise for a minute, letting Tony knock him back as the two of them rolled around on the blanket and then into the grass, each trying to get the upper hand.

It didn’t take long before their movements shifted, less wrestling, more sliding up against each other with purpose. Tony could feel his cock thickening in his pants, sparks of pleasure going through him every time Steve’s hand would slide over his skin just right. He shifted a leg, getting it between Steve’s knees, and when he pressed up he could feel Steve hot and hard against him, the feeling made better by the sharp, needy little gasp that he made in response. They ended up with Tony spread out on top of Steve, the two of them rubbing off against each other as they shifted and rolled in the grass, stifling their noises against each other’s skin so the neighbours wouldn’t hear. Tony had his hand shoved down Steve’s pants, jerking him off with quick, sharp motions, and his face buried in Steve’s neck. He could smell wood smoke in his hair, and when he pulled back a little, he could see the starlight reflected in his eyes before they clenched shut as Steve came over his hand. Steve lay there for a moment, panting, and Tony took a moment to look him over in the dim light from the fire before Steve pulled himself back into awareness to roll Tony over onto his back and pay him back in kind.

It was up there with some of Tony’s best memories.

He should have known it wouldn’t last.

***

They were at the grocery store again, goofing off and being idiots, probably laughing too loud, when all of a sudden Steve froze, going pale. Before Tony could ask him what was wrong, he was grabbing Tony’s arm and dragging him around the corner and down an aisle, leaving their half-filled cart abandoned in front of the cereal.

“Steve, what?” Tony finally managed to hiss as Steve pulled him past the baking supplies and then zig-zagged ridiculously through the produce section. He half expected Yakety Sax to start playing over the loudspeaker.

“I just… I saw someone I recognized. Like from the forties recognized,” Steve answered vaguely, aiming for the front door.

“Do you think they’d recognize you?” Tony asked a little stupidly, although his behaviour made the answer pretty obvious.

“Uh, yeahhhh,” Steve answered anyway. “I think so.”

They made it out of the building without being caught though, Steve looking over his shoulder as they headed down the street. He made Tony cross the road, turning down a side street they wouldn’t normally take, and he was just breathing a sigh of relief when they rounded the corner and were met with Peggy, standing there waiting for them with a furious expression on her face.

For a long moment everything went almost comically still, Peggy and Steve standing frozen, staring at each other, Tony looking back and forth between them in a mild state of shock. Then the anger seemed to fade out of Peggy all at once, shoulders sagging a little as she took a half step forward, making an abortive gesture like she was going to touch Steve’s chest before she remembered herself.

“It is you,” she breathed.

Steve opened his mouth to say something, anything, but before he had the chance he was interrupted by Tony, still staring at Peggy with wide eyes. “Aunt Peggy?!” he blurted out, because he knew Peggy had cofounded SHIELD, and he knew she had worked with his Dad, he just somehow hadn’t expected her to be here, looking almost exactly as he remembered her from when she’d come visit when he was growing up. She used to spend hours sitting with him, listening patiently as he explained the workings of all his machines and inventions. She’d always encouraged him, and he found himself getting choked up seeing her now.

And then he glanced over at Steve, saw the look on his face as he stared back at her, and Tony felt his heart sink a little.

Peggy had turned sharp eyes on Tony at his outburst, looking him over, but now she looked back to Steve and without hesitation poked him square in the chest. “Explain,” she told him. “How are you possibly here? And why is this man who looks exactly like Maria Stark calling me ‘aunt?’”

Tony would never fully understand how, but somehow Steve managed to convince Peggy to come back to their place. And then he sat her down, and told her everything. How he’d been found in the ice, how the avengers had formed, about Tony being her ‘nephew’ and also Iron Man, and then about Thanos, how they’d lost everything and were doing everything in their power to make up for it now.

The one thing he didn’t mention, Tony couldn’t help noticing, was the relationship they’d developed over the last few months.

Peggy took it far better than Tony would have expected. Although, he supposed, if she’d helped found SHIELD, she’d probably been dealing with far crazier shit than this for years.

“So if I’m to understand correctly, you two are from the future. And you,” she turned to Tony here, “Are my godson. And you used Hank Pym’s… science experiment to figure out time travel and come back here and get that cube that Howard found in the ocean. To save the world.” She drew in a long breath as Tony and Steve both nodded, waiting for her to process the information. “God, Hank is going to be impossible to live with when he finds out,” she muttered. She drew in a deep breath, smoothing down her hair -- a move Tony remembered from when she’d try to keep her cool with Howard when he was a kid -- and then looked back over at Steve. “I take it you two are responsible for the breach a couple months back?” She didn’t wait for their confirmation, the question rhetorical. “Well, I suppose once again it’s up to me to clean up your messes, eh Captain?”

The smile she gave Steve was a little dry, but fond and familiar in a way that made jealousy twist low in Tony’s stomach. But even worse was the way Steve smiled back at her, sheepish and full of so much history and love that it almost ached to see. For a moment Tony felt like he had disappeared from the room entirely, the two of them only having eyes for each other. Somehow Tony managed to act normal as Steve and Peggy made plans for when and where they’d meet and how they’d stay in contact, even though it felt like he was losing a little more of Steve with every word that passed between the two of them. And when Peggy had left, and Steve turned to him with the broadest grin Tony had ever seen, still looked awed and dazed and delighted in the wake of her presence, the smile Tony gave him in return was almost genuine. He waited until Steve had left the the kitchen, wandering down the hall for something, before he pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes and whispered a very quiet, very heartfelt, “Fuck,” into the empty room.

***

Tony wanted to go home. More than anything in the world he wanted to see Morgan again, missing his little girl a constant pit in the bottom of his stomach, even in his happiest moments. But being here with Steve was easy in a way his life had never been before, no stressors, no superheroing, no being recognized on the street… No end of the world barreling toward them faster than they could stop it. Now that they were close to going home, he couldn’t seem to appreciate the last few days they had here together, just he and Steve alone. They still talked, and fooled around, and did all the things they’d been doing before, but the time was passing in a blur. It didn’t help that Steve had been distracted since they’d found Peggy; more than once Tony had caught him staring into space with a soppy smile on his face. There was a growing feeling creeping through his stomach that he might be making the return trip solo.

And then he was out of time entirely, the two of them meeting Peggy in some back alley for the hand off. It had, she assured them, gone off without a hitch, but that wasn’t a surprise. Peggy had always been strong and brilliant, confident and capable. On some level it probably should have been weird that he was jealous of his aunt, but mostly Tony was just resigned to the fact that this was it. Peggy and Steve were staring at each other again, couldn’t keep their eyes off of each other, and Tony felt like his heart was somewhere around his ankles.

“I’ll, uh, I’ll let you two… Chat,” he mumbled, uncharacteristically awkward as he took the two briefcases that Peggy had brought and headed for the main road, forcing himself not to look back at them.

In a weird twist of deja vu, he ended up sitting on the same bench where he’d found Steve on that first day, after everything had gone tits up. He sat there, staring off into space and thinking of a million things at once, and it hadn’t been a full half hour before a shadow passed over him and then Steve took a seat on the bench beside him, their thighs not quite touching.

Steve was staring forward, maybe trying to figure out what Tony was looking at but he hadn’t spoken, so Tony didn’t either. Eventually, though, he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, clearing his throat.

“You, uh… You don’t have to come back with me, Steve,” Tony told him, giving him an out. He felt Steve snap his gaze to him, heard him make a strangled sort of noise, but he narrowed his focus to a tree in the distance and kept going. “If you’re finally happy… We can do it without you. Probably. Maybe. I don’t know, we’ll figure it out. I know you’ve already sacrificed a lot, more than anyone ever should have to, really. You can be selfish, for once.”

He turned to face Steve then, because he really didn’t want Steve to stay, but he needed him to know that he truly meant the words he was saying. He had fallen in love with Steve, and because of that he couldn’t bear to stand in his way.

Steve was staring straight again, leaning forward with his elbows braced against his thighs, hands clasped together between his knees. He blew out a long breath, and Tony tensed, bracing himself.

“You’re right. I am selfish, Tony. I’m real fucking selfish.”

Tony bit down hard on his bottom lip; expecting it didn’t make it hurt any less. But then Steve was turning to face him, a shy, hopeful smile on his face offset by the determination in his eyes.

“And no way in hell am I giving this up. Giving you up.”

For a moment Tony was actually rendered speechless. “You… what?”

Steve shrugged. “I’m in love with you, Tony. It’s as simple as that. And I know you said this was whatever we needed it to be, and maybe that means you don’t have the same kind of feelings, but --,”

“God no, are you kidding?” Tony burst out before he could even stop himself. “I was already half in love with you when I said that, and it’s just gotten... more since. I just… I know that extreme situations aren’t the most conducive to long-term relationships, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured, so…”

He trailed off helplessly and Steve chanced a quick look around before darting in to kiss him. It was quick, because it was still a public place in 1970, but full of love despite that. When he pulled back, Tony shifted his hand to curl over top of Steve’s, squeezing tight.

“What… What about Peggy?”

Steve’s eyes were dancing. “What about her? She’s married, Tony, happily so. I just… I wanted to see first hand that she was okay, and she is, more than. She’s moved on, and… And so have I.” He grinned then. “She did tell me I was an idiot though, if I didn’t say anything to you because she’d never seen two people more obviously pining for each other. And uh, then she threatened that if I didn’t treat her godson right she’d be bringing me a wealth of pain.”

“Oh,” Tony said faintly, but he was laughing then too. “Well alright then.” He leaned in to give Steve one more quick kiss. “I love you, Steve,” he told him, because it seemed important that he say the actual words. “Now let’s go home and save the world. Again.”

THREE DAYS LATER

Tony snapped back to consciousness all at once with a sharp gasp, blinking his eyes open. The first thing his gaze focused on was Pepper and Rhodey, standing at the foot of his bed with watery, relieved smiles, Pepper holding Morgan in her arms.

“Daddy!” she shrieked. “You’re up!” She started wriggling frantically, attempting to leap onto the bed and making Pepper wince.

“Morgan, sweetie, remember how we talked about how you have to be careful with Daddy for a bit?”

“I don’t know.” And that was Steve’s voice, sounding gruff, but when Tony snapped his head up to see him leaning against the doorway, he was beaming brightly and looking just a little smug. “I think he can take it.”

After solemn promises from Morgan that she would be careful, Pepper finally set her down and Morgan scrambled up on the bed beside him. With strength that he knew he shouldn’t have had, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight enough that Morgan protested a little. She smelled fresh and clean and like her apple honey shampoo, and it was quite possibly the best thing that Tony had ever smelled. God, he had missed her so much.

Morgan settled onto the bed beside him, telling him stories about everything he’d missed the past few days, everything she’d been doing with Uncle Happy. Tony did his best to follow along in his shell-shocked state, because the last thing he remembered was snapping his fingers, all of the infinity stones in his hand, and he was pretty sure that meant he wasn’t supposed to be here now.

Eventually it was decided that Tony should get some rest, and so with a final, clinging hug from Morgan, Pepper escorted her gently off the bed. Her hands shook a little as she closed them around Tony’s, leaning in close to place a soft kiss against his cheek.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispered softly, a slight tremor in her voice.

They headed for the door but Rhodey lingered a second longer to lean in and give Tony a hug. “Gotta stop doing this to me, man,” he told him, and Tony could hear the tears in his voice, felt his own throat close up as he hugged Rhodey as tight as he could manage.

“I know,” he mumbled, burying his face against his neck. “I’m sorry.”

Rhodey pulled back just a little, enough so he could meet his eyes and give him a pointed look. “And sometime soon,” he added, “You are going to sit down and tell me exactly what the hell happened between you and Rogers while you were getting the Tesseract.”

Then he was moving away, leading Pepper and Morgan out the door with a hand on the small of Pepper’s back. Steve had moved out of the way to let them pass into the hall, but once they were gone he moved back into the room, coming to sit on the side of Tony’s bed now that it was just the two of them. For a long moment they just stared at each other and then Tony shook his head.

“Steve… What did you do?”

Steve shrugged, feigning casual. “Funny thing about spending so much time together. I knew exactly what you were planning with the stones. So I just stepped in and… Helped.”

Tony stared back at him incredulously, still half feeling like he was dreaming. “Right,” he said, voice a little faint. “Okay. And we’re alive and healthy and whole… How?”

“Uh, Carol brought a special something from somewhere. I didn’t catch the details; I was pretty fucked up for a bit too. But…” He gave Tony his best innocent, hopeful smile. “As you can see it did the trick.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tony muttered. Then he was lunging forward, practically crawling into Steve’s lap in his haste to kiss him. Steve took his weight easily, pulling Tony the rest of the way toward him as he wrapped his arms around his back, mumbling soothing words and stroking a hand over Tony’s spine. “You absolute idiot,” Tony gasped, allowing himself the comfort as he buried his face in Steve’s neck. “You could have been killed too. What the fuck were you thinking?”

Steve huffed out a laugh, but his voice was rough and thick when he spoke. “I thought I told you, Tony. I’m real fucking selfish.” He pulled Tony back so he could see his face, see how absolutely serious he was. “No way in hell am I giving you up.”

@tonystarkbingo @not-close-to-straight

#tonystarkbingo2020 #stony #steve rogers #tony stark #time travel #endgame fixit #friends to lovers #canon divergence #romance #fic #my fic #lemon

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weirdlizard26 · 5 years

Note

For the ask meme? All of them.

jay,,,

give me a sec to edit this post ok

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

wine glasses are like reading glasses except you wear them while drinking wine

i’d say water bottles but only the ones that can handle heat and stuff and not poison your drink with plastic or whatever

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

i havent had a lollipop in a good while so thats my choice

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

havent tried either but boy i’d love to try just a little bit of cotton candy at leastonce

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

bro,,,,,, that was like 10 years ago, how am i supposed to remember that,,,,,,,

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

i usually drink soda from plastic cups but honestly? nothing beats the experience of sipping that sweet sweet ambrosia from the bottle,,, but also i’d love to try soda in a can some day!

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

idk what half of these would look like but sportswear always wins in my book

7. earbuds or headphones?

ok i actually googled whats the difference and im more of an earbuds person! theyrejust safer i think and it makes me kinda anxious when im home listening tomusic and cant hear anything going on around me

8. movies or tv shows?

tv shows! well, unless the episodes are like 40 minutes or a full hour because its hard to focus for that long kfjsndkfs

9. favorite smell in the summer?

pavement after rain and also. grass.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

haha thats a funny joke you made there *starts crying*

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

just a couple of meat+cheese+mayo sandwiches! if its summer mom cuts tomatoes or cucumbers for us and as they start getting more and more expensive we replace them with pickles!

12. name of your favorite playlist?

sorry i couldnt choose!

13. lanyard or key ring?

key ring!

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

aaaa i love fruit flavored ones!

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

aaaaaaaa i dont remember if it was elementary or middle school but we were assigned this really cool ukrainian book that ive actually read before they assigned it. well, nobody here will recognize it but it was Тореадори з Васюківки by Всеволод Нестайко and it was about 2 boys who were best friends growing up in the countryside and they went on adventures and had fun and their friendship made me so happy,,, i guess i was all for cool friendship portrayal even back then! it was mostly laughs and jokes but some moments were actually serious and hit me really hard and i remember them to this day actually

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

its a myth, sitting was created as a personal attack on me

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

my trusty old sneakers!! theyre all black and the sole is very soft and nice

18. ideal weather?

when the sun is out and its just warm enough to show off your new graphic tee and also very soft and nice

19. sleeping position?

i just lie on my left side like a fool

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

notebook!

21. obsession from childhood?

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!!! AND DANNY PHANTOM!!!! i even made a ghost fighting costume once,,,, tho it wasnt much of a costume, it was just fingerless gloves i cut out of paper. they were extremely uncomfortable. but very effective in fighting ghosts!

22. role model?

kfjsdnfk i have a bunch! might sound weird but one of them is bdg i think??? and the other 2 are some online acquaintances whom im too afraid to interact with more often than i do

23. strange habits?

repeating silly lines i hear on tv / in anime/cartoons? and also i never touch food with my right hand unless its plums?? and there are more but. you know. bad memory.

24. favorite crystal?

all of them!!!!!

25. first song you remember hearing?

my grandma used to sing this to me over the phone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wUPnqqPXQsw

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

go for a walk!

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

slep

28. five songs to describe you?

we are the people by empire of the sun

home by cavetown

strawberry blonde by mitski

smile like you mean it by the killers

afterlife by arcade fire

29. best way to bond with you?

wash your hands very thoroughly and make jokes

30. places that you find sacred?

i see nature i go crazy from how much respect i have for it

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass andtake names?

*wearing hinata cosplay* im here to play volleyball and kick your ass and as you can see ive already played today’s match

32. top five favorite vines?

road work ahead

a avocado!! thanks!!!!!

REBECCA THIS IS NOT WHAT YOU THINK

i fell can you help me :(

that vine where ukulele sounds like human voices and people sounds like ukuleles

33. most used phrase in your phone?

idk how to check that??? sowwy

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

the stomach meds ad they keep showing on tv

35. average time you fall asleep?

3am? 4am? idk for sure

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

t-trollface…

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

havent used either (cause ive never traveled anywhere too far away) but the latter looks pretty and i feel like it would fit more stuff

38. lemonade or tea?

depends on my mood!

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

dont kick me but im not sure if ive ever tried either ;w;

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

the school’s cat who hates most people actually kinda warmed up to me even tho im terrible with animals

41. last person you texted?

jay uwu

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

afabs cant have both huh

but i want both. please give me both.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

all of these sound nice but my lazy ass will always go for hoodies

44. favorite scent for soap?

aaaaaaaa im allergic to a lot of soaps but i like flower scented ones

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

i love all of them dearly but lately ive been more into superheroes i think. im not sure really sure what exactly i feel

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

something really really long

47. favorite type of cheese?

there are different types????

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

i hope im a pear

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

become a good person. thats all.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

i dont remember what it was but i remember i was with my friends and we couldnt stop laughing for several minutes and ive never felt happier

51. current stresses?

UNIVERSITY FUCK OFF!!!

52. favorite font?

i like comic sans

53. what is the current state of your hands?

they arent doing so hot tbh, my dermatitis is back again

54. what did you learn from your first job?

i dont have one!

55. favorite fairy tale?

gonna be honest chief, i dont remember too many of them ;w;

56. favorite tradition?

on new year’s we turn the lights off, light up a candle in the kitchen, laugh at president’s speech and only then starts eating

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

getting over a lost friendship, passing high school finals and uni entrance exams and coming out to my best friend

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

singing!! being able to learn how to do most things pretty quickly!!! and i cant think of anything else but honestly these two are quite enough for me

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

uh oh! guess what! i dont have a catchphrase and im very self-conscious about it!

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

im torn between sports anime and slice of life

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

because humans dont have wings we look for other ways to fly

from haikyuu

obviously

62. seven characters you relate to?

tsukishima kei from haikyuu

mae borowski from nitw

apollo justice from ace attorney

flame princess from adventure time

donatello from tmnt

sokka from atla

kageyama shigeo from mob psycho 100

63. five songs that would play in your club?

mr brightside, bohemian rhapsody, smile like you mean it by the killers and allof haikyuu ops and eds

64. favorite website from your childhood?

if social media counts, vkontakte i guess?? i didnt really go anywhere else and it still exists and i thriving so im not sure if it should count fkjsndkjf

65. any permanent scars?

yeah, the one from my very first vaccination from when i was a few months old i think and also some traces of when i had chickenpox

66. favorite flower(s)?

idk a lot of flower names but i really like tulips

67. good luck charms?

dont have any at the moment but i’d love to get one!

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

whatever fish mom used to buy when we were kids >:(

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

bro my memory isnt good enough to remember those,,

70. left or right handed?

im a righty but i had to become a lefty for like a month when i broke my pinkie

71. least favorite pattern?

i like traditional ukrainian ornaments

72. worst subject?

history :P

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

ice cream + fries

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

idk how pain levels work but i try not to take meds unless the pain is interfering with studying

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

idk but i had a box full of my teeth for so long they turned to dust and i had to throw it away

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

RHNGRHGNRHGRNH EVERYTHING except for freshly made mashed potatoes

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

if its green it can stay

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

have never had either of those and i hope i never will cause they sound gross!

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

i dont have a license, so.

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

kfjsndfks depends on the mood tbh!

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

fireflies!

82. pc or console?

i WISH i had a console but this is too broke for that,, i played a couple of times tho and it feels more fun than pc!

83. writing or drawing?

please dont make me choose, ive abandoned both and its making me feel bad

84. podcasts or talk radio?

podcasts :O

84. barbie or polly pocket?

idk what polly pocket is but barbie rules!!!

85. fairy tales or mythology?

i feel like sometimes fairy tales are kinda like watered down myths so i have a right to say i like both

86. cookies or cupcakes?

my heart goes to cookies

87. your greatest fear?

finding out im faking any part of my identity

88. your greatest wish?

get through whatever’s going on right now

89. who would you put before everyone else?

mom

90. luckiest mistake?

when i recorded an undertale medley and got a few notes wrong but it actually ended up sounding better than originally

91. boxes or bags?

boxes!

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

fairy lights……

93. nicknames?

never really had many? my bff calls me mr smith sometimes but thats all i can think of fkjsdnfs but also! steve used to be my nickname before i decided my life my own and i get to choose my name

94. favorite season?

spring ;w;

95. favorite app on your phone?

sudoku

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

my own and my mom’s

98. favorite historical era?

eh im not very fond of the past because not every time period had soap

#wl26 #wl26 answers #flamingerrs #jay just so you know i love you a whole lot #i really did that huh #long post

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justalosersdiaryofmisery-blog · 5 years

Text

A Necessarily Sober Night’s Ramblings

I’m sitting here in my bed, writing on a shitty, hundred dollar netbook that rests on a book thicker than my fist to prevent overheating. The floor of my room is covered in a disgusting salad of dirty laundry, trash, and books, all sprinkled with a frustrating amount of cat litter from the box a few feet to my right. A space heater with more personal space than anything else in the place keeps me warm in the mornings and nights, and the fan that’s blowing my hair at the moment keeps me cool during the afternoon and whenever else I’ve been drinking.

I’ve got Altered Carbon playing beside my word processor; just started watching it. It’s impossible for me to focus on any one thing, so its there just to keep the excess ‘brain energy’ or what have you busy while I try and write this all out. All this nonsense. The lamp resting on my nightstand, which is currently sitting in the midst of the chaotic disaster that is my floor rather than being pressed up against a wall, is annoying but helps keep the anxiety down a bit.

The anxiety is still drumming my heart and shaking my hands, but it would be worse in the dark. I enjoy knowing what’s surrounding me. If I turn off the light, I can only assume what rests in the darkness. I don’t think there’s any monsters hiding beneath my bed amidst the beer cans and paper plates, I’m not a child. But there’s knowing, and then there’s knowing. When the light is gone, the whole world becomes Schrodinger's fun house.

Plus, if I turn out the lights, the odds I step on a sharp piece of aluminum on my way to the bathroom magnify ten fold. Foot lacerations are the fucking worst. Slicing your palm isn’t that bad because you don’t always have to have your dick in your hand. Plus, for the most part, your always aware of the palms of your hands. You forget the bottoms of your feet, and the trail of blood you leave behind is a bitch and a half to clean up.

Not that I’d clean it from my own carpeted floor, but there’s certain expectations for the world outside the stained and battered walls of my bedroom. Smiles required, pleasantries demanded; it’s a whole other ball game out there. That’s not some dramatic piece of speculation either. When I was a child my parents threatened to beat the frowns from my face and decried my silent coming and goings as disrespectful disobedience. Now that I am a man in age and burden if not status however, I am free to move more freely. The habits have already taken root though.

Despite my already volcanic anxieties simmering and sizzling beneath my flesh, I’m having another energy drink, my third of the day. I went to the store earlier for something fizzy and calorie free to drink, and despite knowing I must be wary of caffeine, I was swayed by a little sticker promising ‘3 for $5!’. It’s a rare moment that I’m without thirst, but unless I have sweat through my clothes in exhaustion (an even rarer moment) or am exceptionally hung over, drinking water gives me heartburn.

It’s a touch allegorical, really. Water, that most basic material of life, burns the ever living shit out of my throat.

People don’t take caffeine seriously enough. It’s just like any other drug, if a bit milder. At first it puts a bounce in my step, then in a few minutes my mind will be racing with dark thoughts and fears, and if I go without it for too long my head feels like someone is taking an ice pick to the top of my skull. Sometimes the initial jauntiness is worth it though. That ‘sometimes’ keeps me coming back.

There it is. Reading this back, you won’t remember the pauses between sentences, the distraction filled minutes as Altered Carbon takes priority over writing between paragraphs. I say that so it won’t feel quite so jarring when I say that anxiety is carving a butcher’s knife through my gut and up my sternum after just mentioning the jauntiness caffeine can bring.

Anxiety and just a hint of anger are filling me. Thinking on it now, and exploring this idea for the first time (though I’ve brushed against it like a virgin schoolboy ‘accidentally’ bumping into a pretty girl before), I’m realizing there’s always anger somewhere in this stack of flesh. Anger I was bred into, that was taught to me, beat into me. It’s always there. Just, I keep it buried away and hidden. Once, I did that so that I wouldn’t get in trouble, so that I would be safe. Now I do it so that the people around me will be happier.

The only people I’ve ever intentionally physically hurt are my male family members. My younger brother, in adolescent rage reminiscent of my father’s, has been strangled, punched, thrown, and kicked. It was never unprovoked, but always unearned given the severity. I never bruised or truly damaged him, but still. Trauma is trauma. The words I spewed at him were instinctively and specifically chosen to hurt him, to damage him. It’s left me with a quandary similar to that of the chicken and the egg. Did his little man complex come from my infrequent but scarring abuse, or were the assaults unleashed by his constant needling and provocations?

Then there’s my father. Him I tried to kill once. He was drunk, and violent. He was roaring and screeching with anger at my mother, worse than normal. I went to figure out what the fuck was going on, he put his hands on me, and I snapped. I threw him to the ground, and amidst his punches and slaps and scratches I began to choke him. Tears and spit pouring from my face I bared my fangs and produced more animalistic sounds than actual speech.

My mother was futilely trying to pull me off, begging me to stop. I didn’t care. I was beyond reason at that point, my id was in full control. Like a flare in a moonless night however, a thought brought me to a stop. I had my second day of work at a new job the next day, and couldn’t afford to spend at least the night and next day in jail for murder. That lone, paragonal thought amidst a sea of frothing rage was all that saved my father’s life.

Other than those two examples however, I’ve never allowed myself to be a violent person. Or rather, I’ve never had the courage for it. I get the fight or flight shakes just from passing a slow moving vehicle, let alone a face to face confrontation. I wonder if that’s who I am, or who I was made to be.

My first girlfriend, who could technically be called my ex-fiancee if you don’t dismiss a six month, hormone-fueled, teenage puppy love engagement, was victim to some verbal abuse throughout the two or so years we spent together. She was a piece of work herself though, and although I cringe to think back on my words and feelings back then, I don’t think less of the man I am today for them. I see it as character growth. She cheated on me, lied to me, and was certifiably crazy herself. She and I have both come a long way since then though, and I’ve learned to be a better man based on the awful example I set for myself.

I say we’ve both come a long way, but in reality, she’s got a college degree and is dating a successful musician while working for a governor. I’ve got a GED, am entirely alone, and as of the end of March jobless. There was a brief spike in my life a little over a year ago. I only weighed one-hundred and sixty pounds, I was on the second rung of the company I worked for’s ladder, I had a girlfriend, I was happy. That’s all long gone now though.

See, even though I hunt for zero calorie sodas and energy drinks, I still eat too much food. I drink too much alcohol. I lay around in bed like a fucking pile of ooze. I was going to call myself a slug, but even those invertebrates get more exercise than I do. I probably weigh Two-ten by now. Two-fifteen maybe. I’m sure if I were sitting on a scale right now it’d read in the two-twenties, between my clothes, belly full of spaghetti sauce-drenched pizza, and general fat ass.

As of today I’m twenty-two years old, five-eight in the morning and in shoes, with short brunette hair and just the one tattoo, a coyote on my left arm. My upper right arm and my left ‘tit’ are covered in scars. I have a handful spread over the rest of my skin; faded ones all across my legs, one across my stomach, one on my right ‘tit’, three partially faded bands on my right forearm. All self-inflicted, obviously. I have a small patch of fur all across my chin that struggles to reach the center of my lower lip, stubble spreading back from it towards my throat, and a curled moustache above my mouth.

I fucking hate when television shows have non-English parts. It prevents me from being able to just spend the extra ‘brain energy’ on them, and instead I have to divert more of my direct attention to follow along.

Sometimes I want to carve out my own eye. Even though my left eye is (diagnosedly so) the weaker of the two, whenever I envision it, it’s always the right one I slice out like an avocado pit. The cut would start close to the center of my forehead and run all the way down to my jaw, stopping just a hair over the line and onto my throat.

I don’t think that comes from any weird sort of mutilationist fetish, or one of those weird (Ha, who am I to judge?) mental illnesses where a part of your body feels alien. I think its just a desire for attention? If that’s the right way to phrase it. I want to be special, look special. All those bad-ass pirates and fantasy characters have facial scars, typically over their eyes, and I want to be like them. I want to be special.

I want to be special. I want to be important. I want to feel like I actually matter. No amount of self reaffirmation has ever been enough for me. I’ve always needed ‘affirmation’ from others, and I’ve rarely ever received it. And it can’t be just anyone who gives it to me, it has to be someone special, someone whom I respect. The words of those I subconsciously deem as ‘below’ me mean absolutely nothing, no matter how reverential or supporting.

As for who I respect, which isn’t the right word at all, I’m not really sure. Beautiful women. Impressive men. Members of authority. People with experience in fields that I respect (this time it is the right word). I’ve had coworkers who practically begged me to hang out, less than attractive women who nearly molested me in their flirtations. All it ever did was annoy and nearly disgust me.

It’s a strange dichotomy, my ego and self-loathing. On one hand, I’m disgusted by myself. I look in the mirror and see a hideous, fat, disgusting, waste of human existence who could die tomorrow without the world so much as blinking. On the other hand, I recognize my intellect, sense of humor, virtues, and what few skills I have as being exceptional.

I hate myself, but somehow still place myself above others.

It’s funny how little self control I have compared to what little drive I have. I crave love, yet haven’t been able to muster the willpower to eat healthy and exercise. I crave fortune, yet haven’t been able to finish writing (Really writing, with editing and everything) a book. I crave attention, yet stay hidden away in my room and when out in public avoid standing out at all. When I crave a McChicken, I’ll drive to the McDonalds across town at 3 AM for it.

I guess I’m just short sighted. Back when I still played chess, I could never think more than a single move ahead. When a problem has a single-step solution, I can find it near instantly, no matter how obscure or obfuscated it is. Throw in just one more step, however, and suddenly I’m lost as an orphan looking for his mother in a department store.

That applies to long term goals too, even when the answer is spelled out for me step by fucking step. Step one, cut the calories down to less than two-thousand. Step two, take the dog(s) for a walk everyday. Step three, repeat steps one and two for the next six months. Just like that, I go from fat lard-face to looking like a young Leonardo DiCaprio.

But I just don’t do it. The one time I succeeded with a diet, it was based on routine. Every morning on my way to work, I’d get two McDonalds burritos with mild sauce and a large diet coke, no ice. Every night after work, same thing. Right now, jobless and hopeless, there is no routine in my life. That’s just an excuse though, I know that. Doesn’t mean I fucking do anything about it.

It also helped that back then I spent every night with a woman I was in love with. Kira. Black haired, thin as a skeleton, cheek bones like daggers. Her nails were more like claws, and she’s never without her eyeliner that stretch out like wings from her beautiful brown eyes.

When we met, she hated me, so of course I sought her approval. She hated me just because I sat in her spot one time. She, never to my face, called me an inbred hobbit. After several random encounters at work (which is where I met her), we also bumped into each other at the vape store. A casual, friendly conversation lead to her messaging me at work the next day, and a friendship quickly formed.

After that, it didn’t take long for love to form. One sided love. I asked her out, she rejected me. My love diminished but quickly re-blossomed. I confessed full-blown honest to god love to her. Again, she rejected me, with a full (and requested) letter explaining why. That letter tore me to pieces. Not because it destroyed my hopes for ever having her, but because every reason she listed was (to my eyes) nonsense.

She said I wasn’t artistic, I consider myself to be a great story crafter and a half-decent writer. She said she thought I’d be controlling and possessive, when I am nothing of the sort. She said I wasn’t ‘edgy’ enough, in so many words, even as I carved my flesh into ribbons. Even to this day, when she describes her perfect partner’s personality, she describes me to a T, or at least to a lower-case t.

I treat our bond as though we are siblings, and I believe that’s how she sees me, though I feel a much stronger love than that for her whilst single, and she feels nothing for me. She treats me like garbage. One time I begged her for company, knowing that if left alone I’d make an attempt on my life, and she said no. No one else came either, but I thought she of all people would understand and care. But she didn’t. And despite the handle of vodka, bottle of nyquil, assortment of pills, and sheer amount of blood loss I endured that night, I lived to suffer the pain of her betrayal.

With her it’s always apologies and broken promises. She’s sorry she abandoned me for the millionth time to be with her new abusive boyfriend, she promises it won’t happen again. She’s sorry she disappeared without a word of warning, and promises she’ll warn me in the future. She’s sorry that she broke her promises, she promises it won’t happen again.

And yet I love her. I’ve given her thousands of dollars. I’ve bought her over a hundred meals. I take care of her when everyone else abandoned her. I helped her get her shit together when agoraphobia had grabbed hold of her. I’ve given her everything I could possibly give, sacrificed everything she’s ever asked for or needed that I had.

But its never enough for her. It never will be. She will never care about me and my needs. I don’t need her romantic love, as much as I would enjoy it. But never once has she sacrificed for me. Never once has she gone out of her way to make me happy. She gave me a stack of ‘coupons’, to be redeemed for things such as ‘a guaranteed hang out session’ or ‘You can pick the music all day’. The one time I tried to redeem one, the first one I mentioned, she blew me off.

But of course, she moved to a whole other state for her drug addicted, physically and verbally abusive boyfriend. Then when she came back I took her back following a promise that she was completely done with him. I’m sure she will, or already has, broken that promise.

Despite all that, she is the most important person in my life. The thought of her killing herself makes me genuinely want to die too. Without her, there’d be absolutely no one in my life that I truly love. She is a fire amidst a barren tundra without which I’d freeze to death, even if she flickers in and out of existence that I’ve wished to die in her absence.

My only other friend is Whitney. The strangest person I’ve ever known, and one of the most genuinely wholesome and good people you could ever have the pleasure of meeting. She’s sweet, kind, caring, generous, intelligent, and fun. She’s also asexual, so there’s no hope for romance there either. She lives a busy life, between college and work, so it’s rare I ever get to see her.

Everyone else in my life is temporary, fleeting. They either abandon me purposely or drift away like clouds.

My last girlfriend, the only other serious one I’ve had besides my ‘ex-fiancee’, abandoned me out of the blue. One moment, she was saying that she loved me and that I was her perfect man. The next, she provided a list of issues she had with me and said that they were irreconcilable. She left me with trust issues that have plagued every attempt at romance I’ve had since. I lost my virginity to that girl.

And when we broke up, you know what happened? Her shit head best friend went and spread all of my personal information to our mutual friends, in a horrific way that painted me to be a violent and hurtful man who was ruining her life. And they believed him. Even though he was known to be an over-dramatic, hyper-aggressive piece of shit, they believed him. In spite of all the good things I’d done for them and absolutely no personal experience with me to back his words up, they took it as gospel. I had non-romantic commitment issues before then, but damned if they weren’t magnified ten fold after that.

Every other romantic trist I had after her has had its issues. One time, whilst I was seeing a shrink and given pills that amplified my anxieties to levels beyond my control, I went full blown crazy with a girl. Demanded to know where she was, why she was ignoring me, sent over thirty texts in as many minutes. I quit that medicine the moment I ‘came down’.

Another I ‘broke up’ with after we agreed that she couldn’t handle just hanging out in my car, and I can’t handle going to clubs. Another couple ghosted me. Another was even flakier than Kira, and far more blatant about it. Another just wasn’t that into me, even if he (an FtM transgender person) wouldn’t admit it.

Right now, the biggest source of my anxiety is the fact that Kira has yet again disappeared. I’m used to that, but this time she explicitly said she would text me ‘soon’ when we hung out three days ago. The girl is a fucking suicidal drug addict, and doesn’t care about the pain it causes me when she disappears like this. The fears and anxieties that fill me hurt so bad you wouldn’t believe it. I’ve told her this countless times. She just, doesn’t, care.

I want to punch something, tear my room apart. Its a disgusting mess now, but the mess is settled at least. A path to the door amidst the refuse, big piles pushed against the walls. It could be much, much worse. I feel like I’m about to explode, all these feelings bursting out of my fucking rib cage. But she doesn’t care about that. All she cares about is herself.

There’s only two people in the entire world I’ve truly cared for, like really, wholly, undeniably loved and felt empathy for. My ‘ex-fiancee’, and Kira. But even for those I didn’t feel that way for, Whitney or my ex-girlfriend, I treat them right. Better than right. I buy them gifts, I look after them, I tell them I love them, I do my best to be the best friend or boyfriend I can be.

I’m a heartless monster, but at least I have the manners to act better than that.

You know something, I legitimately can’t remember the last time I cried. Probably when Kira and I first started becoming friends, she demanded I open up and tell her everything if I wanted her to do the same. So I did, and I broke down. Since then, not a drop. I just don’t have it in me. I’m tired. I’m tired of being alive, but outside of drunken and seemingly random spikes of suicidal ideations, I’m too scared of death to try and kill myself tonight.

The thought of death, of everything just disappearing, terrifies me. It has since I was a little kid, we’re talking four or five years old. I don’t want to die, I never want to die. I want to live forever, or at least to know that there is reincarnation or an afterlife. I fear the ocean too, specifically being in the middle of the water with no land in sight and seeing a silhouette approaching me. But that’s not what my fear of death is. That’s a shock, a jump in my seat when I watch a video on youtube.

My fear of death is primal, unadulterated terror. It keeps me up at night, it forces me to keep a light on when I want to sleep, it gave me a love for twilight hours as they brought an end to the darkness when I was a child. It brought me peace.

Kira finally texted me back, simply saying ‘’I love you’. It could be her last words, it could be an apology for going back to her shit head ex, it’s definitely a lie to either herself or to me. It brought some measure of peace, though left a trail of underlying fears in its wake.

I just wish I could be happy, but for that I need at least one of the three B’s. Booze, blood, or betrothal. The last B is hyperbolic, I don’t need that much of a commitment, just some sort of romantic connection with someone. Gotta keep the pattern going though. When I’m drunk, my troubles fade away. When I’m cutting, the pain distracts me. When I have a girlfriend, I feel accepted.

Right now I have none of those things. I might cut my arm here in a bit, but I doubt I’ll be getting a girlfriend sometime tonight; and its too risky to be drinking on a night like this. So, I’ve just got to wallow in my own misery.

I meant to write chapter two of a new book I’m working on tonight. It’s a dark, nautical comedy set in a fantasy-ish world about a dull yet narcissistic pirate captain and his misadventure to regain his fortune. I started writing it to keep myself busy while I wait to distance myself from the first book I wrote, a more serious piece. That one’s about a man and his new apprentice facing a rebellion of monsters who are supposed to coexist with humans, but are sick of their treatment as second class citizens.

I need to distance myself from it because every time I look at it I want to delete the whole thing. It all feels too fresh, too personal. I can remember every keystroke that I put down, and since I was the one who typed it all, it must be trash. That’s how my mind sees it. I need to forget.

I’ve just started episode five of Altered Carbon, haven’t paused it once, haven’t stopped writing except when they speak in another language or I don’t know what to wrtie next or when Kira texted me. I’m starving. By starving I mean I’m hungry, just enough that my stomach hurts. I’ll probably go grab more food like the fat ass, no-self-control shitstain that I am.

I hate when people tell me I’m not fat, or when people say it shouldn’t matter. I am fat, and it matters to me. I don’t find fat people attractive. Never have, never will. I remember once, back when I was dieting and nearly at one-sixty, a (fat) girl said to me “Why are you still dieting? You look great.” I responded by lifting my shirt up (I didn’t have the scar on my stomach at the time) and jiggling it, which immediately elicited an ‘Ew!’ from her. I said, “That’s why.”

It’s not a crime to be fat, nor do I treat fat people any worse than their skinny counterparts. I just think its extremely unattractive, just like me. I don’t want to be fat. I just don’t have the willpower to put a stop to it. And I hate myself for it. Maybe if/when I get a new job I’ll be able to get back into my routine. It’d be a lot easier if I lived on my own, and could choose the pantry and fridge’s contents myself.

But for now I’m stuck living in my parents’ house. I thought once I bought a new car, I’d be able to save up and move out. Then I met Kira, and spent thousands on her. Then I allowed myself to be talked into going to therapy, a waste of time that I put a stop to after being told that I’d never be happy and to keep on cutting, that put me in debt to pay for. Then my car broke down, and I’ve had to open a new credit card for over nine-hundred dollars and spent another four-hundred up front, and her check engine light is already back on.

Oh, and I don’t have a job anymore after getting fired for spending too much time helping coworkers, so its not like I can get a place with the two-hundred and twelve dollars I get a week with unemployment. I’ve dreamed about living on my own since before I was even a teenager. I’ve always hated my parents. Every time I think everything’s about to turn around fiscally, life comes around and shits down my fucking throat and cuts a hole through my trachea so it can fuck my feces-stained esophagus. Every, single, fucking, time.

God that therapy was fucking worthless. I did what the guy said in regards to cutting. I tried rubber band snapping, icing, writing out my feelings. None of it had the same sense of distraction and gravitas. So, he told me if it helps and I’m being safe, keep doing it. So I have. I wanted to stop though, not for my own sake, but because the people who say they care about me (in other words, Whit) don’t like it and I can understand why. Again though, no will power.

When it came to my moods, I told him about as much as I’ve told anyone in my life about myself. At first it felt good, he looked at me like some sort of specimen. By our last session though, it felt more like I was a chore to him, a frustrating waste of time. Although I didn’t bother to remember the words verbatim, he more or less told me that sometimes there just isn’t anything you can do to stop being miserable, and you’re just stuck that way. So, since that was the case, I stopped going.

There was another professional I saw there, a woman who was there to actually prescribe medicines. After the first one ruined a budding and potentially great relationship, I was hesitant to try another. Given the fact that it was also expensive as fuck and I was constantly broke, with or without hesitation I couldn’t try another kind. She refused to prescribe me medicine for my ADD either, even though she did diagnose it. Said we needed to get the depression under control first. Maybe I’d be less fucking miserable if I could concentrate on one thing at a time instead of constantly having my attention diverted between two to three things every waking moment of my life.

It’s funny, when I finished my first book, I thought I’d be happy. Filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment that would spur me forward in life. So I rushed it. The last couple chapters were far below my typical word count. Whitney pointed out that fact, and the fact that a lot of the earlier chapters were subpar comparatively, so I went back and finished it ‘for real’. I rewrote most of the earlier chapters, filled in the later chapters, got a real, proper first draft done. And still nothing.

Now I’m telling myself that once I can edit it properly instead of just grimacing through the prologue I’ll feel it, but I don’t believe it. Maybe if an agent wants it, I’ll feel it, but I don’t believe that. If it were miraculously published, then, then I might feel a hint of genuine joy, but I don’t believe that. I keep pushing the goal posts of finding happiness further and further back to excuse my failure to do so.

Fuck, I don’t even know why I wrote all this. I don’t feel any better. I feel like an overdramatic, self-important, delusional cunt. Same old same old I suppose.

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romancevsreality-blog · 6 years

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bachelor in paradise, season five, episode one: do not trust anyone with a permanent smile on their face

I can’t believe we’re back here again.

By “back here”, I mean literally sitting in my bed, drinking an enormous iced coffee, and wondering where we all went wrong in life. And by “back here”, I mean Fuck Island: The Battle For Social Humiliation. Hi, I’m Amanda, the lead blogger and the laziest person on the face of the earth, back again, two weeks late, recapping the fifth season of Bachelor in Paradise, the actual worst show on television.

Up until last year, I firmly fell into the opposite camp - I thought Bachelor in Paradise deserved a god damn Peabody Award for The Audacity Of Being On Television. But after the Corinne and Demario crash-and-burn-and-pay-them-to-keep-quiet1 of 2017, the show kind of left a gross taste in my mouth. And following the Defense Against Criticism of Racist and Sexist Behavior, or the most recent season of The Bachelorette, I’m losing hope in humanity. It wasn’t fun to talk about anymore, it just made me angry.

I still hate these people, but now I want to slam my keyboard again and remind them what the fuck is up. So welcome back to Fuck Island, Y'all!

The episode opens with reminding us of Jade And Tanner, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Two Years Ago In Paradise And Married On TV Early Last Year and Then Had A Baby, Remember Them? as well as the new Paradise SuperCouple, Evan And Carly, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Last Year In Paradise And Married On TV Last Year and Then Had A Baby Too, Remember Them? They’re determined to make us forget Marcus and Lacy, too, because their marriage was a sham and apparently Lacy straight up ghosted Marcus, but also, that story is still hilarious.

Oh, Marcus. Marcus should come back on Paradise and get his Nick Viall edit.

So let’s go over the opening credits, shall we?

They’re still using the poor cover of “Almost Paradise” because someone on this series refuses to buy the real version -this show has a budget of $100. We get shots of the guys in the water, people on speedboats, people making out, all the girls running in their bathing suits… and first up is Jordan, laying on his side like a washed-up beach whale struggling to breathe. Kendall is looking at what is her best option for a romantic partner, the skull of a bull. I don’t know who Angela is. Eric dances like he’s your favorite cousin at your great aunt’s 88th birthday party. Chris is not even worth acknowledging because he’s awful and I wish the wave that washed over him drowned him. They put Tia in a red, white, and blue bathing suit because she thinks she’s America’s sweetheart. These people could write a book on subtlety. Krystal throws... glitter? Kevin leans into that “sexy firefighter” thing, an occupation I have never found to be sexually appealing. Can someone in the comments explain why there are “sexy firefighters” and not like, “sexy restaurant managers”? Bibiana has a new haircut and drops a mic because we love unexplained jokes that only make sense later on in the episode when we see the source. MY BOYFRIEND WILLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Astrid holds up some melons and I love her bathing suit so I will refrain from calling her Astird for now. Grocery Store Joe can straight up get it. Nysha looks like my friend Rae’s sister and clearly is too good for this show. David’s clearly recovered from his Bachelorette season injury but he just looks untrustworthy. Annaliese, who no one remembers, is freaking out about a bird? KENNY who we don’t deserve does an amazing backflip and Chelsea holds a glass. Nick, who I am strangely attracted to, particularly in that track suit because he reminds me of Jeremy Renner is a weird melted down kind of way, shows us what’s under that track suit and damn. DAAAAAMN, Waxy Jeremy Renner. And then finally, Venmo John counts his pesos and god, I love him.

Oh, and my Ex-Boyfriend Wills and Mortal Enemy, Chris Harrison are in Sayulita, too. Mexico, I am so sorry.

Chris Harrison pretends like he’s setting up the island area where these contestants are going to be hanging out. Chris Harrison doesn’t know how to hold a rake, let alone operate one, and why is he raking sand?!?!?!?!?!?!??!?!?! I am most uncomfortable with seeing Chris Harrison barefoot. That feels far too intimate from a man I despise. Anyway, they’re going to remind us of who these people are.

First up is Kendall, the Not Like the Other Girls Girl from Arby’s season. Kendall is different! She likes dead stuff and the most annoying instrument[^2] and loves posing on the beach in a bikini. Next is Kenny, who’s still hurting from his breakup with Rachel. We get to see McKenzie, his 11-year-old daughter, and I’m FULL OF EMOTIONS. Kevin Is Canadian and immediately reveals that Ashley I cheated on him with Jared. I love that. Throw that shade, Canadian Kevin. Krystal is also back, and she wants the world to know that she’s a good cook, including able to frost an angel food cake. Chris is back and he’s totally trying to Josh Murray himself and redeem his image from Becca’s season. Oh, Chris. You’re on the wrong show for that. He calls himself The Goose, and I already know that’s the “do the damn thing” of this season.

[^2] I will fight anyone on the ukelele being an annoying instrument. I get it, it’s cultural, but it’s unfortunately been appropriated by a certain sect of people and I’m annoyed by THAT mostly. Why can’t they just play the banjo? Or the trombone?

Speaking of birds, David the Chicken who doesn’t like avocados is back with his long-ass eyebrows. He lives at home in Boca Raton with his mom, because David is a catch. Unfortunately, he can’t marry his mom, but he’s coming to paradise to come after Jordan. Jordan’s got a full arsenal of looks to wear and roasting of Chicken David to do in Paradise. Annaliese is remembered for her bumper car trauma and fear of dogs and pretty much everything. She’s afraid of redheads, sand, sombreros, birds, large bodies of water, so... an island in Mexico is perfect for her. My Queen Bibiana is there for her third Bachelor series in six months and she’s just ready for all bikinis and hoping her ass slaughters al the men. Me too, Bibi. I love you. My Boyfriend Wills also shows us his sartorial choices of the season, and he’s ready to loosen up. Have his eyes always been that green? God. He’s like Smoky Robinson.

Ugh, Tia. Tia gets the longest of the opening montages because they want to torture us all. The only thing I like about Tia is that fact that TIa is thirsty as hell and not afraid to show her disappointment. Openly sad about Becca as The Bachelorette. Coming in twice to piss on Colton’s leg on The Bachelorette. Saying “I’m only here for Colton.” Tia is obvious about what it is she wants and we hate her for it. Because she’s thirsty.

Alright, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, welcome to Fuck Island, where the people are heading in. The first in is Tia, who is like MY JOURNEY MY JOURNEY MY JOURNEY!!!! This is her chance to pretend she’s The Bachelorette. She’s the first person to arrive and her new fake boobs are on display. She’s like, “the person who comes down the stairs could be my partner,” and the next person is Eric, who looks like a mascot. Kendall arrives “open to love” because Kendall isn’t like the other girls.

Next down is Jordan, clearly long enough for the three of them to get drinks. Jordan’s happy to be in a place as beautiful as he is. Tia makes mention of Jordan’s villain edit on his season and Jordan’s like, “sometimes it’s best to know someone before judging them.” Bibi comes down and makes a joke to Chris Harrison about the bumpy road to Paradise and how much her uterus hurts. It’s not a great joke. Is it a joke? Yes. Bibiana arrives as a flamboyant ball of fire and I love her. Jordan and Bibi have something, but Bibi is waiting for the real sign of a good guy. It's never coming, Bibi. Men are trash.

God, Grocery Store Joe, my mumble-mouthed handsome Chicago man, arrives ready to fall in love and doesn’t want to get home straight away again. That’s his main goal. Next is in My Boyfriend Wills, who immediately comes face to face with My Ex-Boyfriend Wells, who managed to maintain his job as bartender despite not knowing how to bartend. How White Man of him. No wonder we broke up. Chelsea comes in, looking pretty much just like Krystal, and all the guys jump on her. Chelsea is a hot mom. Kendall and GroStoJoe talk about picnics, and Joe’s like, “I’m not a picnic kind of person,” while Kendall is like “I like to have picnics in graveyards.” Kendall asks if Joe has ever seen a dead person, and it’s all... yeah. Stop it, Kendall.

Chris, my worst nightmare, shows up in some salmon pink shorts and I’m gagging. All the contestants are waiting to see who’s arriving next, and they all hope it’s not Krystal. Particularly Tia and Bibiana, who both say she’s a bad person. Krystal arrives and the dramatic music starts. Welcome to paradise, Y'all. Krystal talks about the stress of The Bachelor on her, but she can recognize that Chris shares part of her name. Tia is literally like “I’m happy she’s here, but I want to kill her.” Krystal has some bass in her voice and is speaking like a normal person, not with that weird lilt to her she was pulling off all Arby’s season. Kendall’s worried someone’s going to be interested in both her and Krystal and so of course, Joe goes after Krystal first.

Canadian Kevin, Waxy Jeremy Renner, and Venmo John all arrive. Of course, Kendall is about John because “I’m a sucker for nerds.” Kendall really isn’t like the other girls. Nysha, one of the girls from Arby’s season who we barely knew arrives, and so does Angela, whoever the hell Angela is. Who is Angela? Angela is gorgeous but man, I have no idea who she is. Our Favorite Dad Kenny arrives and McKenzie refuses to let him come back if he doesn’t have someone. I love this show. Kenny is talking to Nysha, but Astird walks in and I already know I’m going to get her and Angela confused.

Tia keeps looking over everyone’s shoulders in hopes that Colton is coming down the stairs. She thinks she’s being slick about it, but everyone notices and it’s hilarious. Annaliese comes down in her Romwe romper and Jordan immediately tells her he’s interested, attracted, and he’s known for being arrogant form his season. David arrives and Jordan immediately freezes up. Someone calls out “Jordan, David’s here!” and they’re expecting drama to go down between them. It doesn’t, Jordan and David have a handshake and David walks away. It’s just awkward. Tia’s bummed that David’s the last entry and Colton, in fact, will not be arriving that day. Everyone’s like “MOVE ON TIA” and Tia’s conflicted on what she wants out of Colton, it seems.

Chris Harrison comes in and tells them the rules - there are more women than men this week, and the guys aren’t safe this week. They need to pair up ASAP or else they won’t get the chance to be the next Jade And Tanner, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Two Years Ago In Paradise And Married On TV Early Last Year and Then Had A Baby, Remember Them? or Evan And Carly, The Golden Couple Who Got Engaged Last Year In Paradise And Married On TV Last Year and Then Had A Baby Too, Remember Them?

The girls are ecstatic that they have control, except Tia. Tia’s mad she’s going to have to talk to someone other than Colton, even though she’s safe that week. God, I hate her. Joe and Tia sit down and Joe’s getting his flirt on and getting his camera time. He’s making up for lost time, apparently. Colton immediately comes up and you can tell Joe barely remembers Colton. But Tia talks about how she had a “relationship” with Colton before his time on Becca’s season of La Bachelorette and they haven’t spoken since. Joe would want to give his date card to Tia, but he can tell Tia’s not over Colton.

Colton, Colton, Colton.

Tia, the only person who didn’t want a date card, gets a date card. The producers want to torture her. She actually yells “NO!!!” when her name is on the card, and I agree with Bibiana - she needs to be open to her options and she’s super upset at the idea. She literally said “I came here o find something serious and lasting with Colton,” a guy she went on two dates with once a few months ago. This is such alarming behavior. Everyone’s upset by Tia but they’re all pretending it’s okay.

Tia really confirms her trash taste by choosing Chris for her date card.

Joe’s like, “I’m disappointed,” but everyone is like “dude, bullet dodged.” Krystal is thrilled Joe wasn’t picked by Joe until Joe takes Kendall aside for some private time. Kendall and Joe are cute and talk about storms and they like each other and make out on one of the day beds. Kendall’s mom warned her about making out on one of the day beds, and here we are day one!!!!! Krystal, meanwhile, is just baffled by the entire idea of Joe and Kendall. Joe isn’t the guy for her, it’s confirmed.

So it’s nighttime, and we have a few connections already made - Joe and Kendall, Annaliese and Venmo John, and David thinks Angela is in his league2. But that’s it - a few people have been left behind and ignored, and we see a great awkward conversation between Nysha and Jordan. In the wake of Joe and Kendall hooking up, Krystal’s interested in Kevin, who isn’t nearly as hot everyone wants us to think. He looks like a rough draft of a person. They both talk about how hot the other is and they make out on another of the day beds. Gross3.

Chelsea, one of the most beautiful women this franchise has ever had, is on the couch with Wax Jeremy Renner, and he’s way into her. He doesn’t care that she’s a mom, he’s super into that and thinks he’d make a great role model. He’s super attracted to Chelsea, too and continues to be like “man, I would make out with you if you wanted to,” but she starts feeling sick. Chelsea is my queen. The other contestants talk about Tia and Chris’s date and how it’s unfair because Tia has unfinished business with a guy who’s not even there. Astird is correct in saying Tia probably should have given her date card away rather than go out with someone she was only interested in until someone else comes in.

As if Tia would ever give up the chance to be on camera.

Tia and Chris sit down to dinner that they’re not really going to eat, and Chris is shocked he’s even out with Tia. Tia brings up Colton first, and basically says “I’m here because I want to be here with you.” Chris is thrilled and is in Paradise to hang out with people he wouldn’t necessarily hang around. They both want to leave Paradise with a real relationship. They continue to cut back to the villa, where My Boyfriend Wills and Astird both think that Chris and Tia will have a fun date, even if it is a platonic one. But it doesn’t matter, because they both make out while fireworks go off!

Tia’s like “Colton Who?” Which is such a mature response and a clear indicator of where her mind is?

The next morning, Tia and Chris are all lovey-dovey and kissing, and everyone’s excited for them, which is why Colton’s arriving now. Production needs to take a class in subtlety because they even add the “thunder crashing” and “ominous clouds” videos, even though it’s gorgeous when Chris Harrison talks to Colton, who you know not to trust because he is permanently smiling. Colton tells Chris Harrison he’s not there just for Tia, but his world is open. He has a date card (barf). Colton arrives and immediately Chris is set off course and Tia is smiling like the Cheshire fucking cat. She can’t even pretend not to be over the moon. She fully expects Colton’s date card to go to her an- Colton takes Kendall aside first. Everyone’s like “him not grabbing Tia is a signal.” Kendall tells Tia and gets the deets, and everyone thinks it’s awkward to not grab Tia first. Chris, meanwhile, is spiraling, and he’s terrified Tia is going to go out with Colton.

I mean, Tia’s going to go out with Colton. That was written in First Corinthians. Poor Angela, though. I mean that in the “it hurts now but you dodged a bullet” way.

Chelsea, Nysha, and Angela are all hoping that this date will at least come out with some solid “yes-or-no” on the Tia and Colton situation. Jordan says this is Chris’s Vietnam. It’s a weak metaphor. Astrid and Wax Jeremy Renner HATE Colton. Wax Jeremy Renner calls Colton a “fame chaser”, and Astird thinks that Colton just likes having Tia on the back burner in case something else doesn’t turn out. Fuck Colton.

Tia and Colton talk about their first date from six months ago, where they basically spent a weekend together. Like, two dates. That’s it. Tia’s hoping they can recreate that weekend in Paradise, but this is an extra AF reaction for TWO dates. Chelsea also hates Colton, because he can’t figure it out - is he there to date Tia and fuck the “I’m open to everyone here” idea, or is be big enough of a dick to date other girls in front of Tia? Either way, he looks like a dick. Colton brings up what Tia did to make Becca send Colton home, and Colton is still pissed. Like, he’s trying to pretend like he’s not, but he’s still super mad because apparently he was in love with Becca and Tia got in the way of that.3 Tia is sorry if he feels like he missed out, but she didn’t want to miss out on her opportunity to get a chance to be with him. Colton doesn’t know what’s there or what could be there with Tia, but he mostly just wants to be on television. Tia wants to know if he feels like there’s something possible between them because she can’t get him out of her head. Colton gives the most nothingburger answer, like “I don’t know, I want to be fair to everyone, I’m not closing the door on this, I’m here to figure out my stuff and be on tv and hopefully become The Bachelor.” Tia doesn’t take this as “Okay, let’s both play the field” like Colton probably intended it to, she just thinks that’ll make him try harder. They go out on a speedboat and then they have a make-out session.

Tia talks on and on about her feelings for Colton, and we never once hear from him. I know that’s on purpose. What Colton is doing is dangerous, and really shouldn’t happen. Just tell someone you’re not interested. That’s it. Back at the villa, Jordan, Chris, and Wax Jeremy Renner are plotting to confront Colton. They all know he’s there to be on television and he isn’t interested in Tia. Kendall and Joe can’t be bothered and don’t understand why they’re bothered, either. The guys are white knighting Tia and they’re hoping they’re going to get to confront him. The two of them have a scarlet letter on them, and they both need to come to terms with it because they’re killing the vibe in paradise.

To be continued...

Next Time: The greatest summer in Bachelor History! Everyone is making out with everyone! Krystal is in love! Hot people on the beach! YUUUKIIIIIIIIIIII1!! Ugh, Leo vs. Joe? Clearly, I’m on one side over the other. Jenna ignites the feud between Jordan and David. Ugh, gross, that gross guy Kamil. Oh my god, Shushanna is back?! Shushanna “Shut up 5s, a 10 is speaking” Russian girl has been accused of being a witch, so I already am on her team. Colton tears. Eye roll. Tia tears. I don’t care. Ben Higgins yells about being unlovable, and gross, Arby is there. ROBB(IE???) WHY???? All of the Bachelor and Paradise alums we don’t care about! Tears!

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

Okay, this is the best collective group of Paradise alums we’ve had since the first one. Fight me. It’s a bunch of nothing contestants plus a few notable ones.

I love Bibiana and I love Chelsea and I love Astrid. They all else can go in the garbage.

I don’t know if I can handle six weeks of Colton talk and sociopath smiles.

... I really hate those braids on My Boyfriend Wills. Sorry, Wills.

I’m already adorning my tin foil hat here, but Y'all can’t tell me Corinne and Demario didn’t accept a hefty settlement in exchange for The Powers That Be to do whatever they want. ↩︎

David really is a permanent wingman and that is not a compliment. ↩︎

Or, really, Tia was brought in by production to give Becca an excuse to eliminate Colton before Fantasy Suites so she wouldn’t get screamed at by America for eliminating the virgin in the Fanty Sweets. Tinfoil hats abound over here. ↩︎ ↩︎

#bachelor in paradise

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crumpledjournal · 8 years

Text

5.2.17

so apparently my school does this program where kids can head out into the woods for a weekend every once in a while and just… talk it out i guess. that was this past weekend, Ma (not my mom, a friend) told me to go. my old history teacher had been plugging for the trip for years, but id never actually gone. never thought id be able to explain wanting to go have a feelings jam with a buncha other kids in the woods to my dad. i didnt really until i came back and recapped a little (honoring the agreement i signed before going to not share anyones story from the trip).

on the one hand, i feel so fucking healthy!!! i feel like i have subsisted for the past year off of nothing but avocado smoothies and kale juice and like i have been doing yoga for 85 hours a day and like i finally met a person or two who i can actually speak my mind to and get more than just a “sure dude.” like, good lord does this feel good

i mean, thats what i told Ge and Di and i genuinely believe it. (both Di and i knew basically nobody other than eachother and we were alone in a sea of strangers for the first few hours.)

dont get me wrong, i feel lots better. i got a lot off of my chest. but there was also a lot left unsaid on my part. out of all the people there (about 90) there were two others who shared that they were genderqueer (and there were only like two other people who brought up the topic at all). one of them i had some p bad experiences with in middle school. the other was a student leader and facilitator of the trip, so Re (the leader) didnt really have a lot of time to talk, and in the discussions Re was mostly asking questions and… well, facilitating. plus, gender came up like once. and Re was not there.

but i was! it was nice to talk a little. i was in a meeting with the school principal about installing gender neutral bathrooms at the school a week or two ago and i talked about that with them, and i told them that being genderqueer goes waywaywayway back and lots of other stuff, i guess. but i didnt say anything about my experiences with being genderqueer, really.

and damn did i want to! idk if yall have picked up on this yet (all none of you) but talking to people about my shit is just so healing for me. thats why i have a public journal! like, talking to equals and feeling heard. i could tell my mom or the school therapist (and i do, often) about my shit and its cool, theyre supportive and shit, but since i started this class ive had no time to keep up old friendships that were based around hanging out. like, were still friends i guess, but… playing minigolf over text is just not the same, man.

there was this thing last night where from like, right after dinner until about 3 in the morning, we talked. people had seven minutes that they could use however they wanted in front of the whole group, and it was just their job to listen. and let me tell you, id been crafting my seven minutes for like, three hours before my name came up. the thing is, i planned like twenty minutes of monologue. i talked about a bunch of the family stuff ive got and that was real cathartic. i also got to talk about my struggles with depression, which was a real common topic. but… ive been thinking about the possibility of myself being a trans girl really, really hard over the past couple of months, and i still havent shared that other than with the people whove read this journal.

which is nobody, other than a couple people browsing tags when i talked about moana a little while ago. i havent told that many people i write this, but. i kinda trusted those who i did to read it i guess.

i dunno. i think im most afraid that im not going to have any healthy girl friendships. i see all these women and girls and they have such supportive relationships with eachother. i see it every day. holy shit, if you havent seen the rage and passion with which girls defend their true friends… Hoo Boy.

and im so worried i wont have that! like. i love being agender, and it’s wonderful to have the ability and the knowledge and the acceptance to be an out nonbinary person and not really have so many problems stemming from that in my life. but i have this fear that that ill be in this purgatory of a questioning period for just long enough that when i finally make up my goddamn mind and trust my conviction enough to come out as a trans girl ill have lost the opportunity to have these wonderful, girl-to-girl relationships. as an agender person i feel like so much of an intruder in these female spaces.

Like, Ha (who I met on the trip) was so wonderful and badass, especially considering the amount of shit shes had to go through. jimminy christmas, shes fucking strong. i try not to gender people here but when the topic is gender itself that kind of context feels crucial… but anyways. she came and sat with me when i was eating lunch alone in the corner and brought a couple other girls and. i mean, some of the body language of the others kind of told me they werent super interested in me being there but… it felt… so good. just to be in a female space, just to be included there for the most part, without cis guys around that i would get lumped with.

but then i think i had a panic attack like, near to immediately after that, because i felt like i was making them incredibly uncomfortable by being an intruder in their female space. and when my female friends were having a hard time during the trip (as often happened) i felt like it wasnt my place to comfort them and that as a natal male i would just make them more uncomfortable and they would doubt their friendship with me because so many guys just take advantage of women when they’re at their lowest emotional state and that’s the last thing i want to be seen as and i tried to hug a few women who were having a really hard time over the course of the trip but i just got this churning in my stomach because i might make it worse if i make them think i just want to hug them so i can feel them aginst my stupid fucking body and if i keep writing this sentence then im going to have another panic attack

i dont know what to do. i dont know who to talk to because despite the number of people who said i could come to them this weekend, nobody else talked about gender shit, and those genderqueer people who i do know have just told me to look into my heart and shit, which doesnt help because thats what ive been trying to do. i feel like i cant talk to women because to them ill just be another guy who’s venting because he feels like he can dump all his emotional shit on the closest woman (especially women i just met on the trip, i couldnt ask them to spend however long it takes out of their day to read this when i just met them). i feel like i cant talk to men because if theyre not transphobic to begin with, they either refuse to talk about emotional shit, or can neither relate to feeling like they wont have any healthy girl-to-girl friendships nor realte to being genderqueer. i know im going to send this little essay to somebody soon because i just need to hear at least one other persons thoughts but i dont know who its going to be

and on top of all of that i keep getting these stomach aches at mealtimes and no other time of day and i dont know if it was the confessions from people with eating disorders or something else but my stomach aches and then i dont eat and then it aches because im hungry until the next meal when it aches again and i cant eat and when youre choosing between not eating or eating and feeling like you want to throw up, do you have an eating disorder already? i dont know anything thats going on with my body and im depressed and i feel so ashamed because there were so many people who had stories that felt so much more real than just a pronoun and a stomach ache and they spent their seven minutes with what seemed like no regrets about not having shared things and here i am writing a fucking dissertation pity paper about myself because i feel like it wasnt enough time to talk about my dumb fucking problems even though what i have aint shit and if i fall into the spiral of ands i legitimately will have a worse panic attack and i dont know who i can comfortably ask to do the fucking weightlifting championship level shit that is required to do the emotional heavy lifting and read bullshit im putting on the page without feeling like im inconveniencing them to the nth degree

so i guess thats where im at

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theloneentity · 4 years

Text

Goodbye

This is the last big wall of text i am going to write about you. The past month has been one of the hardest of my life. One of my old friends at college died at the age of 26, a great soul taken too young, my grandad is struggling, which means my mum is struggling, which obviously effects me and my dad, my gran is going crazy being stuck in the house due to this horrible virus. The virus has taken its toll on me as well, I would love to be able to get out of the house and go out with my friends, take my mind off of you, go to the cinema or the gym, literally anything apart from being stuck in the house.

My uni work has suffered as my motivation has been at its lowest and that isn’t right. Nothing gets in the way of my career. This message is mainly going to be two fold, here comes the first part:

The positives:

Falling in love with you

Supporting each other through our final year of university

How much we have in common

All our pint pot and SU trips

Heaton Park

Graduation together

Looking after Teddy

Coming to your dads just to see you for a few hours and getting up ridiculously early in the morning because you were worth it

You were the first girl i took on holiday

Brussels was amazing, i always think about that avocado cafe i took you to, you knew i was taking you there and i was so smug thinking id kept it a surprise, and having the whole zoo pretty much too ourselves to have fun and mess around, and our little day trip to Antwerp, we said wed go back to Belgium one day just to go to Antwerp properly. Our “querky” hotel which we snuggled up in and watched the news in between going out, and falling in between the gap in the bed when we spooned.

Our first Christmas albeit delayed

Valentines Day

The last time i saw you giving you a cuddle and a kiss, probably the last time I’ll see you

The negatives:

Your constant white lies

Your lack of effort to come to my house or spend anytime at mine or with my family, when i was at yours every week whether it was at yours or your dads, you never once offered to get a train to come to mine, only when you came to break up with me lol, it was all you you you

Your toxic behaviour when you were drunk (I was guilty of this too im sorry for that)

And here comes the end of the relationship:

You became distant, different, went from being the one who wanted to spend the rest of her life with me, loved me and never wanted me to leave, to finding excuses to get rid of me and stop me from coming around

The gas lighting, making out like it was my fault and that i was annoying you when all along it was you and your fucking lies which came so easily to you

I asked you if something was going on, if you liked someone at work or if you were speaking to them in that way and you promised me no, you could of fucking told me then

It all makes sense now:

Removing me as your twitter header in case he saw it

Not wanting me to come into your work in case he saw me or i saw him (I didnt even know who he was at this point lmfao)

The look of mortification in your eyes when i turned up with roses, god forbid he saw you with me and those roses

The not wanting to hold my hand in work or outside of it. What must you of been telling him, that me and you were about to break up, that it wasnt that serious, feeding him your shit to make it seem less serious. Our relationship was amazing and nothing was going wrong

YOU LET ME SIT AT YOUR HOUSE, WATCHING YOU GET ALL MADE UP FOR HIM, TIDYING YOUR ROOM COOKING YOU TEA ALL WHILE YOU WERE AT WORK GRAFTING SOME FUCKING MONG

WTF is wrong with you, you fucking sociopath.

And then comes the cheating, the two of you knew what you were doing, he knew you had a boyfriend, regardless of you telling me it was never a date and you just felt sorry for him due to his scan, you’d already told me at this point he liked you and you had feelings for him so yet again you are full of shit. Avoiding social media, while you essentially went on a date with him and left me mentally torturing myself, then as he drops you off at the woods (you know, so your family dont see a random lad dropping you off you shady bitch) you both kiss, no thought of me, just you and your selfishness, you cheated on your ex with me, youve done it to me with him, and youll do it again. Great model feminist you are.

And then you try and play the “I dont want to break up but i dont know how this is going to work” card when you just didnt have the courage or decency to tell me that after lying to me, cheating on me you then wanted to leave me for him after me giving you a second chance. Him, some boring cunt you felt sorry for that you’ve known for a couple of months, hard to believe all the shit about how you felt about me when you are that fickle.

There is definitely some great memories i have forgotten to mention here, and probably some bad ones as well. But the good FAR outweighed the bad, and i genuinely wanted to spend the rest of my life with you, i loved you so much and i still do, and deep down i know you felt the same, you made it clear with how you were with me for the 11 months, in your actions and the things you bought me. I know you still love me now, but you fucking ruined it.

I was going to text you something like this and i am so glad i didn’t and saved myself the embarrassment, its time i get back to being me, the Glen that existed before you, the amazing, smart, kind, funny and loving Glen that i always will be, its time for me to go back to pursuing the career I have dreamt of and deserve and get back to nailing my uni work, you don’t define who i am, and one day ill find someone who loves me the way i deserve. I hope you find this one day. Maybe then you’ll finally realise what you’ve done and what you lost, I would of given you the best life and forgotten about all this shit but you were too weak to put aside some fickle short term impulses. You’ll regret this, I love you Molly, but you’ll never hear from me again. This is the end of Glen and Molly. XO

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oovitus · 6 years

Text

Weekend Reading, 6.24.18

A friend of mine told me that he recently went to a conference where all of the attendees seemed to be talking about perfectionism, in spite of that fact that it wasn’t the conference theme. They were discussing it as people who had been susceptible to impossible standards in the past, but now counted themselves lucky to have let perfectionism go.

As we were talking, it occurred to me that I haven’t thought about perfectionism in a long time, though it had a hold on me for years. Even after I stopped trying to do everything “right,” perfectionism (and to some extent, being “Type A”) was a big part of my identity. I called myself a “recovering perfectionist,” which was truthful, but in retrospect I think it was also my way of continuing to identify with perfectionism and communicate it to others. I didn’t want to be subject to oppressive standards anymore, but I hadn’t yet figured out who I was without them.

In the end, perfectionism exited my life out of necessity; I untangled from it because I didn’t have a choice. Living with bouts of depression and anxiety in the last few years has meant letting go of a lot of my self-imposed notions of what constitutes productivity, success, or a day well spent.

A common experience of depression, I think, is that small, routine asks can suddenly seem insurmountable: doing laundry, cleaning up, running errands. This would have sounded unbelievable to me at one point in my life, when these kinds of to-dos were just afterthoughts, but now I know what it’s like to struggle with the everyday.

I’m thinking back to an afternoon two summers ago that illustrates this perfectly: my anxiety had been particularly bad, and I’d been paralyzed by procrastination all day. By dinnertime I was genuinely proud of myself for having gotten out of the house to pick up groceries and mail a package. This was a radically different measure of productivity than I was used to, and it didn’t matter: I was relieved to have done something, anything.

I’m in a different place now, capable of fuller days, but my perspective remains valuably altered by that experience. I don’t wake up with a fixed agenda anymore. I don’t plan on doing more than I know I can handle. If I notice that tasks remain undone everyday on my modest to-do list, I take it as a sign that I need to plan on doing less, rather than wondering why I can’t do more.

I’ve learned that my capacity for doing and my tendency to get overwhelmed ebb and flow. Sometimes they shift for reasons that I can identify, like how I’m feeling physically or whether something has made me anxious. Sometimes they change suddenly and for no apparent reason. I don’t try to bully myself out of feeling overwhelmed; rather, I ask what would make me feel calmer and more steady.

I often remind myself of a mantra that my friend Maria gave herself when her MS symptoms started keeping her from the pace and routines that had become customary: “better than before.” The origin of this mantra was an ongoing struggle to keep tidy the home she shared with her young son. As Maria’s “functional self” receded, she noticed the presence of another self, who “though less physically versatile, was stronger than I ever could have imagined from the perspective of the one who functioned’ throughout the day. She began to show me things my functional self simply missed.”

One of those things, she goes on to say,

was to be able to notice when I was completely out of energy to exert myself. This might be when something was halfway wiped, or not wiped at all, but I had somehow managed to put some things away. She would know to say that’s enough for now. And she was very clever about what would satisfy my functional self, who would never have been satisfied with that’s enough. It sobered that functional self to learn when the diagnosis of MS finally came that the “forcing” she had habituated herself to was the worst thing to do if she wanted to preserve her physical abilities. But as the saying goes, it’s really true that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. So my deeper wiser identity came up with something even more ingenious than this looming threat:

Better Than It Was.

Or, (depending on the context): Cleaner Than It Was.

These two statements became my mottos. And they still are. They allowed me to learn to pace myself while still satisfying that Functional Self that I was making what she considered progress through the daily requirements of life, even if many of them were slowed to a crawl or a downright standstill. Better Than It Was.

Maria’s story is uniquely her own, and my own sense of high functionality has shifted for reasons that are uniquely mine. But her clever motto has given me great comfort since I first read about it on her blog. So, too, does this quote from Melody Beattie: “Our best yesterday was good enough; our best today is plenty good too.”

The best thing about letting go of perfectionism is developing a capacity to recognize that “our best” can look very different from moment to moment. There’s no longer an immovable standard of output. I wish that I’d been able to pry my ego away from productivity and being busy on my own, rather than being forced to reckon with a dramatic shift in my capacities, but in the end, it doesn’t matter how I got here. What matters is that I’m learning to be grateful for what I can do, rather than fixating on what I haven’t, or can’t.

Throughout all of this, I’ve had the tremendous luxury of being able to adjust my schedule and responsibilities in a way that allowed me to create a dynamic “new normal.” Not every person has the space to do this, depending on his or her professional and personal circumstances. I recognize and respect the many men and women who go through periods of depression and anxiety while also keeping up with fixed schedules. And of course I worry sometimes about my DI year: now that I’m learning how to take gentle care in the moments when I need to, what will it be like to temporarily lose control of my schedule and workload?

I don’t have an answer, but to some degree I suspect that I don’t need one. My routine next year will be a challenge, but so long as I can do my best without succumbing to the influence of perfectionism, I know I’ll be OK. Much as I’ve made my schedule more realistic, letting go of perfectionism has been an inside job. It resides in recognizing how futile perfectionism is, how it discourages me needlessly while keeping me from recognizing the good that I can do, and maybe have done (another observation that’s prompted by Beattie).

Here’s to a week—and a month, and a summer, and a year—of doing my best and trusting that my best is enough. I wish the same for you, too. And here’s the weekly roundup of links.

Recipes

I would never think to put fruit in a tabbouleh, but I love Katie’s creative mixture of blueberries, parsley, mint, and quinoa—I’d actually love to try it as a savory breakfast dish!

A very different kind of quinoa salad, but no less delicious: a curried mixture with red cabbage, raisins, and pumpkin seeds from Melanie of Veggie Jam.

Two recipes for summer entertaining caught my eye this past week. The first is these show-stopping chipotle cauliflower nachos from my friend Jeanine of Love & Lemons.

Number two is this platter of green summer rolls with mango miso sauce from Anya of Lazy Cat Kitchen. The sauce alone is calling to me, but I also love all of the tender green veggies here (asparagus, zucchini, broccolini).

Finally, a summery vegan pasta salad with creamy avocado dressing—perfect timing, as pasta salad’s been on my mind lately (and I may just have a recipe coming soon!).

Reads

1. This article is about a month old, but it’s very on-topic for today’s post: why you should stop being so hard on yourself, via The New York Times.

2. Ed Yong’s new article on the threat of imminent global pandemics frightened me (and the blurb under the title didn’t help), but it’s an important topic, and I’m glad that it’s being written about. Yong notes the medical supply shortages that are becoming increasingly problematic in the US; hopefully greater awareness might somehow inspire solutions.

3. Reporting on the termination of a major NIH study of alcohol, heart attack, and stroke, which was shut down when conflicts of interest were identified. It’s an important examination of the ethics of funding and scientific research.

4. Dispatches from the Gulf of California, where the vaquita—now the world’s rarest marine mammal—is on the brink of extinction.

5. I was so full of appreciation and respect when I read my friend Karen’s latest post on numbers and body acceptance.

Like Karen, I went through a long period of asking to be blind weighed at the doctor’s office and not owning a scale. That time served a purpose, but nowadays I can be aware of the number without identifying with it, which I’m grateful for. I’ve had a bunch of doctor’s appointments in the last month, and getting weighed has been the last thing on my mind: feeling more at home in my body has been my only point of focus.

Karen opens up about her own recent experience with the scale and the annual physical, then reflects on why she’s committed to being transparent about what “balance” looks like for her. It’s great to witness her journey unfolding.

On that inspiring note, happy Sunday—and from a celebratory NYC, happy pride! I’ll be circling back this week with my first fruit-filled dessert of the summer.

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nybroadabroad · 8 years

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Story Time

This day, this freakin day, is maybe the WILDEST of my life. I am not exaggerating. This is probably going to be the longest post I ever write on this blog, I couldn’t make up everything that happened if I tried, and I feel like I probably won’t even remember to write down everything because there was so much, but I’m going to do my best get ready kids. The night before Sarah had told me that they wanted to shop at 10 and do tea at 11, so I set an alarm for 8 to get up and get ready because I had to shower and stuff. And just to preface, the start of this day was TERRIBLE. NOTHING went right. So I get up all responsible to get ready and turn the shower on and realize the water will not get warm. Literally let it run for a half hour and it would not heat up. But I went to a show the night before and looked HEINOUS and dirty so I had to shower. So I got in and tried as hard as I could to cope but I literally had to shampoo my hair in freezing water so I gave up and did that and just used leave in conditioner after. So things were already going bad and I was freezing but I was keeping a good mentality about it and knew the second I blew dry my hair I’d warm up. Low and behold… my hair dryer has been STOLEN. Straight up stolen right out of my room. I used it the night before, not even 12 hours prior, and it was still plugged in and now it’s gone. So I start freaking out and panicking because that means either 1. someone broke in and took it or 2. my ex-roommates still have keys and have been in the room and stole it. I live next door to the RA so i go to her to tell her what happened and you know what her brilliant response is? “Maybe it’s stuck in a drawer or something.” One, MARY, we don’t have drawers!!! TWO it was on my table when I left my room last night. THREE I always lock my door and I’m the only one living there so it’d be SUPER hard to misplace a HAIR DRYER and not be able to find it. So she was no help and i was panicking and upset and not sure what to do and on top of it I now had no way to blow dry my hair and continue getting ready and was just pacing all unsure. So then my hair is half dry and I just say F-it and start straightening it wet because didn’t want to be late. So I’m like almost ready at this point and message Sarah asking what the plan is, to which she replies that she just woke up and Dana and Amelia aren’t even awake yet…. so on top of everything I just went through to get ready they weren’t even awake/ready/going to be ready on time!!!! So I was STRESSED and mad and not wanting to go so I was like whatever let me know. So then my friend Alex texted our group chat asking if anyone wanted to go for brunch. At that point I had no idea when Sarah and them would be ready and realized I didn’t wanna go for tea anyway and I was so stressed that bottomless alcohol sounded so good so I said yes. Of course the second I agree to that Sarah texts me with the plan so I was like oops sorry I’m going to get drunk and eat brunch now so see you after. So the day started looking up, and me and Nat met Alex, Allie and Hannah at Dirty Bones (my fav brunch place) and there was already a glass of prosecco waiting for me when we got there. We had the most delicious food ever, eggs with avocado on scones and breakfast fries and also had 4 drinks each (at 11am might I add, but we’re in college so we don’t count as alcoholics yet) I had two types of prosecco, a spiked iced coffee, and a bloody mary with a sour cream and onion pringles rim. I’m including what I drank because alcohol was very prevalent this day, and you’ll see that later on, but I was actually drunk for 18 hours straight probably. I love study abroad. So brunch is ending and so is Sarah’s tea and we all agree that we want to all meet at Borough Market. Allie and Hannah leave to go home and shower because brunch was last minute and they weren’t ready and so me Alex and Nat head off to meet Sarah, Dana and Amelia and their guy friends (only one of who I know) at the market. We get there with no problem and are trying to figure out where to meet when Sarah texts me that a protest affected their ride and they were stuck on the tube for 30 min and finally got off and had to transfer and stuff so they’d be a little. So us, already being 4 drinks in were just like “ok lets go pub it until they get here”. So we found a really cool pub and all got cider and chilled until they came. I love cider?????? This one was spiked plum and omg so delicious. Finally Sarah lets me know that they are in the market and tell me where to meet them so me Alex and Nat are walking around making our way, trying some samples, mostly cheese and PROSECCO (i love london) and finally find them. Sarah took one look at me and goes “oh man ok drunky” because she’s my mom and just knows but has to love me anyway!! So we decide that we all want to go buy some drinks and have a “picnic” in this park-ish thing near the bridge, really stunning area. So we go to Tesco and buy some wine and cider and prosecco and head off and just spent some time there hanging out and drinking and taking pictures and it was so nice out and so relaxing and just a lot of fun. So as a side note, one of my friends from Canada who is studying abroad in Dublin currently is in London! And she saw on my snapchat that I was near the bridge and she was like oh my god I’m here too so I got to see her!!! Eventually everyone started leaving to go to dinner and do other things but me and sarah were still there because we were doing dinner just us two so I spent some time talking to Sarine (canada) until we realized we needed to leave for din because we had plans later too. So me and Sarah went to this mexican place called Wahaca (thanks for dinner mom) and got some margaritas and appetizers and caught up and were getting ready to order more food when we got a text from our friends that instead of being at our plans at 10:45 our promoter actually wanted us there at 10:15. Basically this guy who gets us into clubs and stuff for free and gives us free alcohol and it was his “promoter birthday” so he was holding this thing at the Vaudeville. So we paid and left and went home and we’re only one tube stop away from each other so I went home quick to change and so did sarah and then we all met at the airbnb that the guys were staying at so we could pregame. We were having fun there just hanging out, everyone was really nice and I was getting to know her friends better but then stuff started to go wrong again, as was the theme of this night (don’t worry there’s a happy ending) also keep in mind this was all of their last nights in London. So one of the guys who was there, I think his name was Daniel, was doing fine and then all of a sudden out of nowhere he was SO. DRUNK. like blackout, puking, lights out no one home drunk. But somehow his friends didn’t make him stay home because they didn’t wanna ruin his night and some of them thought he’d be okay to come. Okay whatever, I said nothing because not my friend and not my issue. So we ended up getting there like 20 minutes late and had to wait on line which is why Gary wanted us there early so we wouldn’t have to wait but it was whatever. So we’re in line realizing this kid is so drunk and none of us think he’s gonna be let in, at this point i’d been drinking for like… 12 hours straight? and I wasn’t even as bad as him. So we get let in and me and Sarah get let in first so I didn’t see what happened so like we’re in the club waiting for everyone else to get let in when realize it’s only the girls and two of the guys, and that Daniel and this kid Jeremy are still up there. Eventually Sarah’s friend Kenny (the one I knew) tells us that they’re refusing to let Daniel in because he’s too drunk (duh anyone could see that) and that Jeremy was up there fighting for him to get let in. We decided to ignore it because didn’t want it to ruin our time and we didn’t have to pay to get in but Kenny did and like everyone just wanted to have fun so Kenny bought drinks for everyone and we were chilling trying to have fun when Dana decided to go upstairs to see how the situation was going. She comes back down and tells us the club is threatening to get the police involved because these guys have literally been fighting with them for an hour. At this point they weren’t even fighting for him to get let in but the really drunk kid Daniel was claiming that the club took his ID to check it and didn’t give it back and still have it (this wasn’t true) but yeah so they refused to make it work and everyone started freaking out because like this kid was ruining all of their last nights there and it was putting them all in a bad mood that after like an hour and a half of trying to make it work we just decided to leave because wasn’t worth it. We weren’t going home tho, we just wanted to leave this place because so much negative energy about it. So we all leave and go outside and realize Daniel and Jeremy were gone which was great and we were ready to all move on and have fun. So Dana tells us about this place she used to go that was really fun so we all agree we’ll just go there instead. We all get Ubers and go over only to find out the place is closed lol. But no one was too upset, everyone wanted to save the night and were really motivated to make it work when all of a sudden who pops up but Daniel and like jumps on one of their backs and is like hey guys what’s up!!!!!!! And everyone is so annoyed to see him like GO AWAY. Literally one of his guy friends was like you need to go you literally ruined this night but he was so drunk he didn’t comprehend and was just like why’s everyone upset!!!! So him showing up really upset people again, especially this girl Amelia and at this point Sarah wanted to leave too. I was back and forth about going home but like 1. I had been drinking all day and it wouldve been a waste to just go to sleep and like 2. we’re supposed to be having fun i didn’t wanna go home all pissed and waste their last night. So I like half agreed to go home and sarah called an uber for her and amelia but when it finally came i impulsively was like nah I’m staying. So it’s like 1:30-2:00am at this point and the only people left are me, Dana, and Kenny. Jeremy was also around but hadn’t met back up with us yet. He’s Kenny’s best friend from high school so it was all of our first time meeting him. So the three of us are standing on this street corner wondering what to do, so we decide to go to Oneilll’s which is this really fun 3 story pub/club that we’ve all been to before and enjoy so we head over there. So things are looking up again, I even ran into Sarine again because when I saw her at the bridge she asked for recommendations and I told her about this place and she ended up going! So it was me and my friends and her and her friends and we were all hanging and got a drink and having a great time and then Jeremy showed up and everything was still fun until suddenly he realizes that he left his phone in his uber. Simultaneously Kenny spilled an entire cider on my phone (my phone is totally fine tho no worries) and now suddenly all of us are stressed out about finding Jeremy’s phone and trying to track it down and figure out what to do and we kind of get in touch with the uber driver but not really and we realize the driver was probably going home because we were tracking the phone and saw it was 40 MILES outside of London… and it’s like 3am at this point. We weren’t ready to go home but we left O’neills so we could hear better and try and figure out what to do so we’re on the streets of chinatown now just trying to figure it out but Jeremy had a really good attitude about the whole thing and eventually was like, “i’m obviously not getting it back until the morning lets just keep having fun” so we decide we want to go to Duck & Waffle because we had talked abut it all night and the four of us were really set on having a good time. Also, me and sarah had planned to get coffee the next morning before her flight and my trip to harry potter but then she texted me saying she wasn’t sure she’d have enough time anymore so i was pissed/upset and was like ya let’s just go have fun. Duck & Waffle is this super cool place that I’ve always wanted to go to. It’s in this 40 story building, and it’s the only thing in it like there’s no other floors just this at the very top and it’s this 24 hour fancy restaurant that all the walls are just glass and you can see the whole city and one of the like bucket-list things that people do is make a sunrise reservation at 6ish am to watch the sunrise from the top. We get there at like 3:30am and wait in line until about 4am. While we were on line we made friends with these people from Scotland and Ireland who were really funny but you definitely had to be there so I’m not gonna try and put it into words but it was really enjoyable. So we get up there and were like hahah wouldn’t it be funny if we stayed until 6:20 when the sunrises so we can see it. But at this point we were just so hungry and wanted to eat and stuff so we’re sitting and ordered food and this place is bumping and everyone who was there too was so nice and funny and friendly. It was one girls birthday and the whole place sang to her and then she stood on her chair to make a speech until they told her to get down so the whole place boo’d the employees lol but her speech basically ended up being “here’s to being young and getting drunk” so like pretty good speech in my opinion. We also made friends with the table next to us because they started making convo and then the girl who we are not sure how old she was literally could’ve been 23 or 35 or 50 idk why we were so confused about her age but she whispers to Dana that she thinks our friends are cute and I think her really buff (we later found out finance) heard her because he like pulled her over and then she looked at us and sighed and pointed to her engagement ring it was so funny but they were all still super nice about it and giving us recommendations for food and stuff. Me and Dana got colombian eggs (idk how to explain them but best scrambled eggs i’ve ever had) and avocado and toast and Kenny and Jeremy got the duck and waffles. We had SUCH a good time they’re all so friendly and funny and like the mood had changed so much and the night as a whole was just so good at this point we were joking around about all of it I had so much fun. Like despite being friends with Dana we’re still not like super close and I had only met Kenny once before. Like these are Sarah’s friends not mine but we all had the best time together. I can’t even emphasize enough how friendly they all are literally when we first got to O’neills Kenny bought all of us cider and I was like no no no you don’t have to do that and he was like “look you’re one of sarah’s friends so that makes you my friend”. So we’re done eating at it’s like 5:15am at this point. We’re not really tired yet, Dana is a little tired and we’re like…. lets just stay until the sunrise!! So kenny orders a bottle of red wine because why not at this point, literally our motto for the night was to just roll with it. So we’re drinking and eventually people start clearing out and it’s like almost 6am and Dana is ready to pass out but we’re like nope!!!! gotta power through!!! and the sky is starting to get a little blue so we were like okay we’re so close we have to. But then at like 6:05am our waiter is like lol i was supposed to kick y’all out at 5:30am because you were part of late night dining and we have to let breakfast people in now who have reservations and i’m gonna get you to stay as long as you can but you gotta go soon. So we were like okay thanks and he was really nice he like convinced his manager we had a valid reason to stay and stuff. So even when we finally got the check and stuff we were messing around and stalling so bad literally Jeremy sat there reading it for 20 minutes pretending to get the words wrong and not knowing how to pronounce it and starting over, it was hysterical, you had to be there tho. So finally we start to see a bit of the sunrise and they really want us to leave at this point so we’re like okay see ya and we leave the dining area to stand by this area with the elevators and the bar but then the guys are like lol lets stall longer so they both pretend to go to the bathroom for like 15 minutes and the manager is just like y’all… and we’re like lol. But then this random waiter is like can I offer you coffee or something and at first we said no but then we were like wait a second, if we order something we can stay!! (also we asked this before, but they said no in the dining area because of reservations but the bar area was fair game) so we all get coffee, which granted wasn’t my best move because still being drunk + caffeine = heart palpitations apparently. So we ended up staying until 7:30am and the sun was fully risen it was actually ridiculous like we somehow managed to stay at that place for FOUR. HOURS. So we finally decide to leave because I had to get ready for harry potter and I also decided to surprise Sarah at their airbnb with coffee since at this point i still thought she couldn’t make it. So we go to leave and on our way down the elevator we realized how FAST it was like we literally went down 40 stories so quick it was so fun so we went up and down three times… because we were drunk and delirious and caffeinated and five years old apparently. But yeah so then we split up and me and dana made our way to starbucks so i could get sarah coffee and literally as we walk in she texts me she had time to meet so i was like lol and ignored it and bought her the coffee anyway and just went and hung and said bye and yeah that’s where that ends lol WHAT A WAY TO SPEND 24 HOURS AM I RIGHT. Also props if you read this whole thing.

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