#but apart from the presents and obligatory meal out in the evening birthdays have never been about me

[hollenka99]

Finally got around to watching Tick, Tick... Boom! tonight and 30/90? Nah man, it's all about 23/22 up in here.

[irondadgroupie]

I’ve been suffering from depression because of my no-future life and can’t help but project my feelings to Peter and life kicking him down. HEAVY TRIGGER WARNINGS. Do not read this if you are faint of heart. Deals with suicide. 

Imagine Peter doesn’t get into MIT. Tony was certain he was a shoe-in, no doubt, he had a recommendation letter and the grades. So when he finds out about the rejection, he makes a very heated call to the admission committee and demands to know the reason. “Mr Stark, this year’s class is extremely talented. The competition was fiercer than ever. He can always reapply next year.” Tony immediately withdraws his donation to his alma mater but it is no use.  As if rejection from MIT was not enough, Peter is also rejected from other schools he applied to. The boy is absolutely devastated, his social media is filled with his friends’ cheery posts and he falls into deep depression. “I worked so hard.” The boy whispers, after another day of staring at a wall. “I know you did, buddy.” Tony rubs his shoulder. He had taken time off work, he could not bear to leave Peter alone. “I aced all exams, I crushed SATs, I did all the projects, homework and I patrolled. All my life I’ve focused on school, it’s the only thing I was good at.” “You know that is not true.”  “I’m a failure. I’ve wasted my life.” Ned, who got a full scholarship to Columbia, has to beg Peter to go to the prom with him, to make some memories. Four hours later, Tony gets a call from the same boy that Peter has passed out from drinking a bottle of vodka. Peter doesn’t want a graduation party. He just gets his diploma, takes the obligatory pictures and then locks himself into his room for the rest of the day, neverminding the lavish buffet Pepper has set up to celebrate. Team has a silent lunch. Peter sleeps a lot. He doesn’t go outside, doesn’t see his friends, stops patrolling and spends his days staring at a television. Tony calls his psychiatrist and Peter is called in for emergency evaluation and after two hours, he enters the Penthouse with a bottle of antidepressants. “These might make you feel a bit yucky.” Tony gives him a glass of water to wash the pills down with. “But it will clear out in about a week.” It takes about two months until they see any kind of improvement and by that time his friends have left for college. Tony hires him as his personal assistant to build up his resume but most importantly, to give him a purpose in life. And maybe the boy needed a bit of downtime after the hectic couple of years being Spiderman proved to be.  Peter applies to MIT again. And is rejected. The shock is even greater this time. “I don’t get it.” The boy hyperventilates. “What did I do wrong? What am I missing? What do I lack?” MIT doesn’t have any more say in the matter, Tony can hear from their voice they are still irked of him withdrawing his money.  Peter starts studying at a community college. He hates it from the first day. It’s not his place. Work is not challenging enough and the courses interest him very little. He doesn’t connect with the faculty who are all perplexed why the protege of Tony Stark is there. He drops out after a few months and makes a return as Tony’s PA.  Third time’s the charm. Not this time, MIT is closed to him. “I’m done.” Peter tears the rejection letter, there are no tears in his eyes, no panic in his voice. Just emptiness. “I’m not gonna do this anymore.” “There are always other courses and schools.” “I learn more from working with you-” “You could at least get a diploma. It must be worth something.” He never thinks about the option more than fleetingly and ends up floating.He tries several jobs but nothing seems right. As Morgan grows up, Pepper starts thinking about getting Peter in on SI. Tony and her had always had the idea of letting Peter lead the company and eventually share it with Morgan. But the board resists. “He doesn’t have a college degree.” “So?” Tony attacks, thinking back to the dark days when he had to practically bribe the boy to eat something. “Degree is just a fancy paper.” “We can’t ensure someone like that to run this company.” “Excuse me but last time I checked I own lion’s share of this place! I make these decisions.” “You can’t walk over the board with this one, Stark. SI is a demanding company. Your father hired us to keep his legacy alive. I’m sure your boy is a nice young man, but he is not fit to run SI.” Tony breaks the news to Peter gently and the boy, no, a man, shakes his head and takes a swig of his beer.  “I knew that- or- I guessed it would happen. Parker luck. This year has been a shit show anyway.” Tony looks at his boy, thinking of the struggles Peter had faced during the last five months: May’s cancer diagnosis, Peter’s constant money problems, a patrol that had gone so bad the boy had spent two weeks at Medbay and still had to eat strong painkillers. “Morgan is having a birthday party next week.” “I don’t have money for a present.” “You don’t need-” “It’s her birthday, she deserves a present, okay.” Peter was always defensive when it came to his finances. Tony was always ready to help but Peter rarely asked for it. Peter only gave him a chance when the man visited and saw the empty fridge, or the pile notices on his table. “I’ve been reading a lot.” “About?” “Success stories. Some make it big without college degrees. Some don’t even graduate from high school. Why didn’t it happen to me? Why did I end up with a no-end job and still have count pennies? Is it a punishment for something I did?” “No. Peter- your time will come.” “When?” Peter asks, his eyes on his father-figure. “I’m done waiting.” If Tony wasn’t worried yet, he was when it was time to pay for the food. “I’ve got this.” Tony is ready to take out his walled.  “No, I’m good.” “Kiddo, let me-” “I’m 31 years old, I can pay for my own fucking meal!” Peter slams the money on the table and gets up. “I was just trying to help.” Tony tried to smooth things over. “Well don’t! I don’t need your help! Go be with your daughter and leave me alone!” “I’m thinking of mental institution.” Tony muttered to Rhodey, softly so the other guests would not pay them too much attention. “Kind of like a rehab center, where he can rest and get intensive therapy.” “Sounds good. I remember it helped you a lot.” “Yeah.” Tony nods, thinking of the few weeks he spent gathering his thoughts after Civil War. “Kind of wish I had started therapy earlier. But letter late than never, right?” Rhodey looked around the room. “Wasn’t Peter supposed to come?” “He must be running late.” Tony shrugged. “Traffic.” Hours passed and still no Peter.  “Kiddo, I’m serious. Call me back.” Tony left fifth voice mail and checked Peter’s whatsapp status: online 10:11. Almost seven hours ago.  Dread filled his stomach. Something was wrong.  Steve offered to drive him to Peter’s apartment. Tony clutched his phone like a lifeline.He debated calling 911 but what could he say. Peter was an adult, had the right to not answer and he was not in immediate danger... right? They walked to the fifth floor. Peter did not answer the doorbell.  Please don’t be there, Tony was muttering under his breath and unlocked the door.  “Peter?” Him and Steve stepped in. “Kiddo?” The apartment was silent. Tony looked around the kitchen. Table was filled with bills and a new letter. An eviction notice.  Tony turned white. Peter had not mentioned anything.  He turned around when Steve stepped back from Peter’s bedroom. His eyes were wide and teary.  “What is it?” Tony knew before the man had the chance to tell.  “Don’t go in there, Tony.” “What do you mean? I have to find him.” “We-” Steve stopped him. “We need to call someone. Peter’s-” Eventhough Tony had known, maybe from the time Peter had failed to answer the first call, his heart refused to believe it.  “No.” He shook his head. “No...” “Don’t-” He tore himself from Steve’s hold and opened the door to the bedroom. The room was red. Peter laid on the bed, a gun in his hand and his head- Tony screamed like he never had before. It was a guttural, raw sound. He sank to his knees, eyes locked on what was left of his child. Steve supported him, one hand rubbing his arm while with his other he called the proper authorities, Tony’s anguished cries making it almost impossible to make out any other words on the other end. 

[stopforamoment]

It Will Be Okay

My masterlist is at the end of my bio.

Book: The Royal Romance (After Book Three) Pairing: Bastien Lykel x OC Rinda Parks Word Count: 933

Triggers for Grief after Death of a Spouse

Author’s Note: Obligatory disclaimer that Pixelberry Studios owns the TRR characters and my pocketbook with those darn diamond scenes. OFC with all of her quirks is all mine. My apologies if Tumblr or I do something stupid when I try to post this.

Drabble Summary: I’m re-purposing something I wrote previously. This would be shortly after Bastien and Rinda meet, during the beginning of the school year. It’s Jameson’s birthday, and she’s trying to keep it together for Henry.

  It Will Be Okay

 “Rinda! Henry! May I help you?”

 Rinda turned around, and Bastien tried not to laugh. She insisted on taking only one trip to the car and her arms were full. Rinda’s work bag had slipped off her shoulder, and she was holding her arm at an awkward angle so the bag wouldn’t drag on the ground. Now some curls escaped her messy bun and she was scrunching her face, trying to blow the hair out of her eyes.

 She was a Rinda disaster.

 Henry’s hands were also full, and he was laughing at his mom. “See? I told you we should have taken two trips! Even Mr. Lykel thinks so.”

 Rinda shook her head, laughing at herself. “You’re right, Henry. Yes, please. Can you help me? And thank you.”

 Bastien was smiling as he put the strap of Rinda’s bag back on her shoulder and took the stack of boxes out of her hands. Rinda quickly began poking her curls back into her messy bun.

 “What is all of this?” He began helping Henry load everything into the backseat.

 “Just some lesson plan things I’m helping Laura with, paperwork stuff, and I’m finishing up our presentation for Queen Riley.”

 Bastien’s eyes darkened. “Rinda, I’m supposed to help you with the paperwork and that presentation.”

 “I know. I just wanted to leave early today, and I’m going to finish this at home.”

 Bastien shook his head. School ended over an hour ago and Rinda thought she was leaving early.

 “Don’t worry about all of that. I’ll help you tomorrow. Just enjoy your night.”

 “No, it’s okay. I—I don’t think I’m prepared enough to even go through things with you, much less Queen Riley. I don’t mind. Really, I don’t. And I can work after Henry goes to sleep. And it’s part of my job. And you have enough going on. I know you’re needed at the palace this weekend with the ambassadors coming to visit, and I wanted to help you get ahead with your work too.”

 Bastien noticed Rinda’s eyes had turned aquamarine and she was nervously flicking her left thumb against her wedding ring. And she’s rambling. “Rinda, what’s wrong?” She stared at him for a moment before quickly averting her eyes. Bastien stepped closer to her and lowered his voice. “Rinda? Please tell me.”

 Rinda was shaking and it was obvious she was about to start crying. Henry set his boxes down so he could walk over to his mom and hold her hand. “Mr. Lykel? Today is my dad’s birthday. Mom is cooking his favorite meal for dinner and she made a birthday cake. We’re going to hang out tonight, but I think mom brought all that work in case she can’t sleep. She wasn’t able to sleep last night either.”

 Bastien sucked in his breath. He had no idea. No one did. “Rinda?” Her eyes were closed and that stoic façade was quickly crumbling.

 I need to help her. Rinda, please. Let me help you.

 “Rinda. I’m taking you and Henry home. I’ll call Laura, and she can pick you up for work in the morning. Henry, can you help me move everything into the SUV? Rinda, please look at me. Is this okay? Please let me help you.”

 Rinda opened her eyes and once again she saw it. There was so much patience and kindness in those solemn grey eyes, and she slowly nodded.

 Bastien put an arm around Rinda as he led her to his vehicle and helped her into the passenger seat. She looked so defeated and it broke his heart, but when Henry climbed into the backseat she turned to squeeze his knee. “How are you doing, Bug? I’m sorry I’m falling apart on you.”

 “It’s okay mom. We’re going to be okay.”

 Rinda gave her son a sad smile. This is your life now, Rinda. This whole fucking nightmare? You’re awake and it’s real. And it’s never going to be okay, but you need to be stronger for him.

 Rinda knew she desperately needed something to hang onto. Something to ground her and keep her from falling. But not Henry. I won’t lean on him. I’m the one who is supposed to be taking care of him. Not the other way around. I have to be brave for him. I WILL be brave for him.

 Bastien was in the driver’s seat and he spoke softly to Rinda as he reached over to help with her seatbelt. “It’s okay, Rinda. I promise it’s going to be okay.” He looked in the rearview mirror. “Henry? I’ll get you home and I can stay to help, or I’ll leave if you want to be alone. Whatever you need, please tell me. Promise?”

 Henry’s eyes met Bastien’s in the mirror and he saw the relief wash across Henry’s face. He’s so much like Drake, trying to protect his mom. But Rinda isn’t like Bianca. She’s stronger. So much stronger for her son.

 As Bastien started driving Rinda reached over to him, but she didn’t touch him. Instead, she held onto the edge of his suitcoat. Bastien’s eyes were focused on the road, but his fingers caressed Rinda’s knuckles. The emerald in her engagement ring pressed into his skin when he took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Rinda’s eyes grew heavy as the mantra continued to swirl in her mind. It’s going to be okay because it has to be okay.

 Bastien looked over when he heard Rinda’s steady breathing. She had fallen asleep, still clutching his suitcoat.

 It will be okay, Rinda. I promise.