#I don't want to settle down after I graduate. I want to apply for a job wherever and if I get it I want to take it and move somewhere new

[aefensteorrra]

/

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Ok, I have two alternatives, pick which one you like the best.

Reader get picked to tutor Eddie even though they have always been at each other's throat, she thinking he's a drama queen, pissed that the popular people doesn't like him and he thinks she's a stuck up bitch without humor.

So they go back and forth but maybe one day when she's having a bad day and Eddie says something and she starts crying he gets all "what, how, why? What did I do, please don't cry!"

Or, that he catches her reading a romance novel and outwardly she has always just read classics - books that are 'high education'

Request by @somethingvicked 🫶💞 went with the first option 💞

Warnings; Little bit of angst, meanish Eddie, fluff. Accidental kiss.

💌🎀💌🎀

"You've got to be kidding me?" you gawk at Miss O'Donnell who has called you back at the end of class. She's asked you to tutor someone and at first you were all for it.

That's until you found out it was Eddie Munson, Munson who is currently sitting at the back of the class with his feet up on the desk in front of him, he gives you a sarcastic little wave and you turn back to Miss O'Donnell and hope she comes to her senses.

"He needs a tutor if he wants to graduate. You're the best student in the class. It will look wonderful on your college applications that you tutored Mr Munson" shit there was really no getting out of this.

Reluctantly you turn to Eddie who already doesn't like you. In his honest opinion you seemed prissy and stuck up. The two of you spent half your time at each other's throats, it had been like that for so long.

Equally you couldn't stand Eddie either. He was loud, a show off and you were sure he was jealous of the popular people he claimed to hate.

How you would manage to tutor him for weeks on end was anyone's guess. One thing's for sure, you were dreading this.

"Meet me after school tomorrow and we can get started okay?" You say to him already grumpy at having to spend extra time with him. Eddie swings his legs off the desk and smirks, then bows.

"As you wish princess" ugh, you storm out but not before hearing Eddie's laughter.

Asshole.

🎀💌🎀💌

The first week of tutoring Eddie is as horrible as you expected. He's antagonistic, makes no effort and needles at your patience until it's paper thin.

"How can you be expected to graduate if you don't make an effort?" You snap as Eddie strums on his guitar.

"That old bat has it in for me, even when I try my best she still doesn't care" Eddie hisses back and you feel the beginnings of a headache come on.

"You just need to apply yourself better, if you want to graduate then you need to ace this Munson" he glares at you.

"Don't you think I know that? It's easy for you though isn't it princess, since your little miss perfect" the insult flares up your annoyance and you and Eddie devolve into your usual arguments.

"Don't you think I have better things to do then tutor you Munson? So do us both a favour and start paying attention, so we can go our separate ways sooner".

He huffs and places down his guitar with gentle care, grabs his notebook and

"Did you draw these?" you ask curious as you trace your fingers over the images on his notebook. He nods and looks at you like he's expecting you to give him shit.

"They are really good Munson, you could think about applying to an art course after graduation" Eddie scoffs and takes his notebook back.

"Yeah like anyone's going to take me with my grades" his tone is all annoyance and it pisses you off.

"I was only trying to compliment you, why do you have to be so touchy all the time" you look away from him stubbornly, he is silent for a few seconds and when he speaks again his voice is soft.

"I'm sorry, I'm not used to a lot of compliments from people" this softens you as well and you turn to face him and give him a small smile.

"Well you're really good" there's a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks when you say this. He nods and settles back down beside you.

"You know uh, you're pretty good with the whole writing thing, uh shit, you know what I mean" pleased and a little flustered at his compliment you clear your throat and mutter thank you, then get started with the book you and Eddie are reading for class.

🎀💌🎀💌

Today has been the worst day. You overslept, forgot to hand your essay in to your biology teacher, the rain soaked you completely as soon as you left your home and you've been verging on a cold ever since.

So the thought of having to tutor Munson again does not fill you with joy, in all honesty all you want is your bed and to sleep. You couldn't get sick, you had too much to do.

Of course from the moment you meet up with Eddie he's difficult. All because it's Friday and he has a Hellfire meeting.

"I have to set everything up princess, I don't have time to waste here with you" furious you round on him.

"You think that I want to be here? No. I'd rather be at home so sit down and let's get on with this so I don't have to sit with your annoying ass any longer than I have to"

"Well at least I'm not a stuck up bitch with no sense of humour and a permanent stick up my ass"

Eddie's words cut to the bone and you stiffen in response. Don't cry, don't cry you chant to yourself, but you can't help as the tears roll down your cheeks, Eddie's big brown eyes widen in shock as you begin to cry.

Humiliated, you're just about to leave when he steps in front of you. "Wait, what did I do?" The two of you exchanged insults on a daily basis and you had never cried before, Eddie begins to panic as your sobs continue.

"Please don't cry" he says, he hates seeing you cry. Your little whimper stabs at his aching heart and on instinct he reaches over to you and takes your hand, the gesture surprises you both and it dries up your tears.

"I'm sorry, I don't like seeing you cry, please stop" you sniff and wipe the remainder of the tears away, Eddie's hand is still holding yours and it's making you feel things that you never expected.

Eddie gently strokes your hand with his thumb, marvels at the soft skin and how your hand fits perfectly in his own.

Uh, shit. This was new. You smile at him, suddenly seeming shy. His heart skips a beat. Jesus h Christ.

"I didn't mean it" he stumbles over his words and you sigh sadly, peer at him with an expression that tugs at his heart.

"Yes you did" he shakes his head fervently and assured you that he didn't.

"I just snapped back without thinking, I'm sorry" he pleads with you and you hear the sincerity in his voice and calm down a bit.

"I'm sorry too. Today has been so shit, I'm tired and I feel like crap. I just want to sleep" Eddie immediately grabs his notebook and pencil and sits down, he looks to you patiently.

"Let's do half an hour and I'll cram as much as I can in my brain and then I'm going to drive you home okay?" relived you nod but still feel worried.

"Miss O'Donnell won't be happy" you tell him and he shrugs as if he doesn't care one bit.

"Leave the old dragon to me okay princess?" touched at his sweetness you take his hand and squeeze it as a thank you. Surprisingly the half hour passes by cordially and Eddie is still sweet.

Before you know it the half hour has ended and Eddie is true to his word and drives you home. You don't feel much better and your stomach is fluttering like crazy being so close to Eddie.

What the hell was happening? Was this some side effect of the flu? Eddie's big brown eyes meet yours, "Thanks for driving me home Eddie"

He shrugs like it's no big deal and on impulse you reach over to kiss his cheek. The only thing is he moves so you miss completely and end up pressing your lips against his.

His eyes widen and you pull away embarrassed, your heart is racing and your lips are tingling from the kiss. You stammer out an apology but Eddie waves it off, you race out the door and into your house.

All the while Eddie is touching his lips, his own heart is racing a mile a minute and all he can think about is that he really wants to kiss you again.

💌🎀💌🎀

[starshine-hockey-girl]

My late addition to the Cellyfloshie Birthday Bingo. In my usual fashion, I am unable to write a short blurb. Instead, I wrote a 12k word prequel to The Crosby Crew. (Don't worry- I am going to post it in three more digestible parts)

My bingo was virginity, age gap, secret lovers, pining and meet cute. I threw in Inspired by too (My Big Fat Greek Wedding and a scene from Return to Me)

Many thanks as always to @pattiemac1 and @penstxgal1968 for the continuous support. Shout out to @couldawouldashoulda50 for helping find the dividing points.

Finally, thanks to @cellythefloshie for her patience and complete understanding of my verbosity. I hope you enjoy.

I don't think any warnings apply. It's pretty PG.

September 13th, 2014- Back of the house - Aphrodite’s Kitchen - Pittsburgh, PA

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in,” the bus boy called out as Sera entered the kitchen through the back door. She swept her long, brown hair up into a quick bun as she made her way to the office.

“Kostas,” she smiled, “Don’t antagonize me or I will make sure that you are the last one cut tonight.” He stopped in his tracks. He and she both knew that he had a standing date with his girlfriend every Saturday night.

“Come on, Sera,” Kostas called back, “Can’t I give you a hard time or are you too snobby now -  Miss “I graduated from an Ivy League college”. 

Sera pressed her lips together. Her decision to go to college to pursue a degree in business management and marketing did not go over well in her family. Well, at least, it didn’t in her extended family. The idea that Sera was not perfectly content to work in the restaurant her family had owned and operated for generations was patently absurd to her tight knit group of aunts, uncles and cousins. There were whispers that she thought she was too good for the family that had followed her since she decided to pursue her education. They simply could not understand why she didn’t want to find herself a nice Greek boy and settle down. It was an expectation that even her parents, Alexander and Sophia, clung to even if they supported her need to follow a different career path. 

There was one person, however, that stood in Sera’s corner, no matter what. Her beloved Theía (aunt), Calliope, was her champion and idol. She was mysterious and flamboyant and marched to the beat of her drum. She, like Sera, had deviated from the chosen family career path when she opened up a travel agency after the death of husband, Alphonso. Everyone expected her to give up her dream when he died suddenly at a young age, but Calliope worked tirelessly to make it the “go to” among the Greek community. She specialized in travels to Greece and started taking Sera with her on location scouting trips when she was in high school. It was only natural for Sera to make the decision to pursue education that would allow her to help her aunt to take the agency to the next level. 

Sera grimaced slightly and then put on a fake smile. “To answer your question, I am here because Calista went into labor.” Kostas turned to shout it to the rest of the crew. “Kostas!” she shouted, “Don’t announce it yet. You know that first babies take forever and you will get everyone in an uproar for nothing.” He knew from his many nieces and nephews that she was exactly correct. “Now let me get out there,’ she smiled. 

Sera nodded to the other server, Marina, and looked over the dining room. Marina nodded to a table of four that had just sat down. Sera paused. The man that she could see looked familiar but she couldn't place him. She gathered her thoughts and approached the table. Two couples sat across from each - Marc-Andre Fleury and wife Vero along with Sidney Crosby and a random blonde, Michaela. Sera did a quick observation of the body language. It was clear that Marc-Andre and Vero were comfortable and relaxed. The other couple at the table, however, were the exact opposite. Sidney sat stiffly as Michaela droned on about the traffic and lack of valet at the restaurant. “What kind of restaurant doesn’t offer valet parking?” the blonde asked. 

“Come on, Michaela,” Vero countered, “This is supposed to be the best Greek food in town. My hairdresser told me.” 

Sera smiled, “Let me guess, Patricia sent you this way?” Vero nodded in agreement. “She’s married to my cousin, Theo. She is our biggest source of advertisement.” Sera noticed the subtle way that Michaela placed her hand on Sidney’s thigh. She also noticed how he looked down, pressed his lips together and glanced at Michaela before staring straight ahead again. “I am assuming this is your first visit here. Let me welcome you and formally introduce myself.” 

Sidney turned his focus on the pretty brunette with kind eyes. There was something about her that put him at ease, opposed to the blonde beside him. Vero had spent months trying to convince him to go on a blind date with her Pilates instructor. He had broken up with his long-term girlfriend, Kathy, in the spring. When the relationship had died a slow, yet painless death, she started her campaign immediately and didn’t let up until he finally agreed two weeks before training camp. He had tried to keep an open mind, but it was obvious within a few minutes that this was not a love match. From the moment they shook hands outside the restaurant, everything about Michaela screamed high maintenance. It was the last thing that he wanted as he looked into a brand new season. “No,” he thought to himself as he listened to Sera speak, “I need someone low key. Someone like her.”

He was lost in thought when he felt the eyes of everyone at the table and Sera’s eyes on him. She smiled at him and repeated her question, “What would you like to drink?” He gulped and looked around the table, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he had been transfixed by her mouth. 

“Do you have beer?” he asked shyly. 

“Yes, what kind would you like?” she asked. 

“I'm not picky.” he answered, “As long as it is cold.”

“Do you trust me?” Sera leaned forward and asked in a conspiratorial tone. Sidney nodded yes and suddenly felt flushed. “I will bring you my favorite. You'll love it.”

“I am sure I will,” Sidney smiled before Michaela cleared her throat loudly. 

Sera nodded as she turned to Michaela. ”And what can I get you?”

Michaela looked around the restaurant and scrunched her nose, “Do you have bottled water?”

Sera inhaled sharply at the insulting question, “Of course we do.”

Michaela continued “I would like bottled water, I just don't want Swiss. I got sick on imported Swiss water once.” She looked to Sidney for sympathy. His eyebrows furrowed together as she spoke. He grew annoyed but he nodded sympathetically. She turned back to Sera who could barely contain her laughter. She said “As long as it's not Swiss or tap water, it'll be fine. Preferably, French.” Sera nodded in understanding. Michaela continued, “I'd like it cold, no ice, no glass, just the bottle and a straw.” Sidney and Sera exchanged a look before Michaela leaned forward in front of Sidney, “Do you need to write that down? Should I repeat it?”

Michaela turned to Vero, “They never get my order right at these places.” 

Sera smiled sweetly, “I think I got it"

Michaela questioned, “Are you sure?”

Sera was about to spit out an answer when Sidney interjected, “I am pretty sure she got it.” She turned to walk away when Sidney reached out to touch her, gently putting his hand on her arm. Both of them felt a jolt of electricity that pulsed through their bodies. “Can I also get a glass of water? Any kind, no straw.” Sera nodded and raced away. 

Sidney’s phone rang and he sheepishly got up. His mother spoke softly and he walked to the back of the restaurant to hear her. His Nanny Forbes had not been feeling well and his mother gave him the update from her doctor’s appointment. Sidney leaned against the back wall and looked up. HIs gaze landed onto Sera.

Sera emptied a bottle of Evian water into a sink and refilled it from the tap. As she replaced the cap, her eyes met Sidney’s. She blushed with the embarrassment of being caught. Sidney winked his approval and they shared a smile. 

Sidney spoke to his mother, “Can you call me back in five minutes? Please?”

Sera returned to the table with the tray of drinks. She placed the two glasses of Sauvignon Blanc for the Fleurys in front of them. In front of Sidney, she placed a mug of Alfa Beer. She explained that it was a Greek import. Finally she placed the bottle of Evian and a straw in front of Michaela. She took a big drink of water.

“I bet that’s refreshing,” Sidney stated then he asked, “Was it just what you wanted?”

“Exactly the way I asked.,” Michaela responded as Sidney shared another look with Sera. Michaela spoke to Vero, “You know that you have to be exact with these people. Otherwise, they’ll just give you plain water from the tap. Can you imagine?” Sidney began to laugh. “What’s funny?” Michaela questioned. 

“Nothing,” Sidney replied as a fit of giggles overtook him, “I’m just glad that your delicate sensibilities were not disturbed.”

As Sera began to take their food order, Sidney’s phone rang again. He got up and walked away. She tried to not eavesdrop as she put the orders in at the point of sale computer but she couldn’t help when she heard the distress in his voice. 

“What do you mean? Taking Nanny to which hospital?” he questioned, “You said she was fine earlier.”

Sera stopped and studied his face. Sidney turned to return to the table but finished his conversation. “I’ll be on the first flight out,” he said as he hung up. After a quick explanation to Marc-Andre, Sidney turned to walk out of the restaurant. 

Sera grabbed a to-go order sitting on the counter. “Kostas,” she yelled out, “What is this order?"

“It’s a greek salad with gyro meat, pastitsio and baklava,” he yelled back.

Sera grabbed and followed Sidney toward the exit. “Excuse me?” she called out to him. He turned to face her. “Take this,” she thrust the bag into his hands, “I don’t want you to go hungry.”

 He took the package and said, “Are you sure? What do I owe you?”

“It’s on the house,” she replied with a smile. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he hesitated before remembering that he needed to leave.

“It’s the least I can do,” she said quickly as he left, “I hope that your Nanny is okay.”. He turned around quickly and looked at her. Her eyes shone with unshed tears. “I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to my Yiayiá. I will pray for her.”

“Thank you,” he replied in a hushed tone, “I really appreciate it.” 

Friday, October 3rd - Pittsburgh, PA

Sidney drove around aimlessly after practice. He was in a bit of a state of limbo that was  between the end of preseason and the start of the regular season. To be honest, he was avoiding going home to an empty house to be alone with his thoughts. He was still processing the death of his beloved Nanny a week ago. He had been numb and going through the motions after returning from the funeral. No one had said anything but it had been noticed by his teammates, particularly Marc-Andre Fleury. 

He stopped three cars back at a red light and looked around to get his bearings. The neighborhood looked familiar and it took a moment for him to place the memory. Then he saw the neon sign that confirmed his recollection. It was the Greek restaurant from before training camp - the one from the disastrous first date. Michaela, despite getting no response from Sidney, had continued to text. He laughed as he recalled the game of water switcheroo that the waitress played on her. “What was her name again?” he thought. 

At that moment, he saw her as she walked down the street. However, the light had turned green and the car behind him honked. “Hold on there, buddy,” Sidney said to himself. He started to drive forward before he was overwhelmed with a desire to see her again. He made it a block and a half before he did a quick u-turn. “What are you doing?” he asked himself. 

Fortunately, he found street parking right outside the restaurant. Sidney hopped out of the car. The reality of what he felt compelled to do hit him hard. “Crosby,” he said to himself again, “What are you doing?” The scene from Good Will Hunting flashed in his mind and he answered himself, “I am going to go see about a girl.” He flung the door open wide and entered the restaurant with confidence. 

His eyes searched the dining room for her, but he couldn’t see her. He walked past Didi, the hostess who stared in stunned silence as THE Sidney Crosby walked past her. He walked to the back of the restaurant where he had observed her that night. He stopped short when he saw her. She stood with her back towards him but with her arms wrapped around the neck of a tall, muscular man. They shared a kiss that landed somewhere in the middle of passionate and platonic. Sidney stood in disbelief. He tried to will his body to move but it refused to budge. 

Nicolas, the muscular man, caught sight of Sidney through his peripheral vision. “Can I help you?” he asked as Sidney stared intently, the heartbreak apparent on his face. 

Sidney raced outside the restaurant and paced. His heart raced and his face flushed with embarrassment. “WTF?” he asked himself, “What the hell were you thinking?” 

“Hey Crosby!” a middle aged man yelled from across the street, “Give ‘em hell this season.” 

Sidney gave a short wave and started walking down the block. He made it about 100 yards before he reached the edge of the Westinghouse Memorial Garden. In all of his years in Pittsburgh, he had never been inside of it. “What the hell?” he told himself before he entered the park. He walked around aimlessly and allowed the serenity of the park to ease his mind. 

Internally, he questioned his reaction to seeing The Girl in the arms of another man. He didn’t even know her name even though he was sure that she had introduced herself. What he did remember was the mischief in her eyes and the smile that lit up the room. He kicked himself for not remembering her name. He kicked himself for leaving the restaurant without getting her number. “What did that matter, Crosby?” he asked himself, “Clearly she is unavailable.” 

He found himself standing in front of the Westinghouse statue. He looked at it for the first time. He studied the details and reached out to touch it. Somehow, touching it would ease the anxiety and pain.

“Fancy meeting you here.” Sera called from the bench behind him, “How is your Nanny?”

Sidney spun around. Sera sat serenely on the bench and smiled at him. He stood still and tried to process what was happening. “How is she here?” he thought to himself. He left her in the restaurant. He left her in the arms of another man. Then he noticed Sera’s colorful sundress. She hadn’t been wearing that at the restaurant. “Wait,” he thought, “how could she have changed clothes.” 

Sera watched as his face contorted and processed his thoughts. Mistakenly, she interpreted his lack of response as a sign that he didn’t remember her. She looked down in embarrassment. 

“How did you get here?” he asked breathlessly. 

“I’ve been here. I watched you walk up from that way,” she answered before standing up, “I am sorry I disturbed you.” 

“No, I just saw you now…..  At the restaurant,” he interjected. 

Sera studied his face, “You didn’t see me. You must have seen my sister. I have been here for a while.”

“Your sister?” he asked meekly.

“Twin actually,” Sera smiled. 

“You have a twin?” Sidney asked, suddenly aware of the possible mistaken identity, “You have a twin?”

“Wait, so you do remember me?” Sera suddenly realized. 

“Of course I remember you,” Sidney replied, “You made an impression.”

“Hopefully a good one,” she blushed.

“The best one……:” he started to say her name and realized again that it had escaped his memory. He stepped toward and she stood up. “I am embarrassed that I forgot your name.”

“Sera Pappas,” she grinned, “I never got your name by the way.”

Sidney stared at her for a moment. “My name?” he asked incredulously. 

“Yes, your name,” Sera replied, “You do have a name, right?”

“You really don’t know my name?” he asked. 

“Should I know it?” Sera answered bluntly. 

Sidney blinked and processed her words. He smiled, “I don’t guess you should, but it’s Sidney….. Sidney Crosby.”

Sera tilted her head, “Like the hockey player?”

Sidney shook his head, “Not like….. The hockey player.”

“No shit,” Sera’s hand went to her mouth, “You’re the hockey player, Sidney Crosby?”

“The one and only - at least as far as I know,” he grinned at her expression. 

They stared at each other for a few seconds. Each of them grinned stupidly. Finally Sera spoke, “So you were at the restaurant? Why?” 

“I am not entirely sure,” he blushed, “I think to find you.” 

Sera tucked her hair behind her ear, “To find me? Why? Do you need some non-Swiss, preferably French bottled water?”

“With a straw, please,” he answered. 

“Follow me, Mr. Crosby,” she teased. 

Together they walked through the park. “Are you not working today?” he asked as they walked. 

“No, I am on my lunch break,” she answered, “I like to come here to clear my head."

“Ahhhh,” he responded, “I guess the restaurant can get annoying.”

Sera stopped in her tracks, “I don’t work at the restaurant.” 

Sidney stopped, “Yes, you do. That’s where we met, remember?"

“Yes, I remember. How could I forget Michaela?” she grinned. 

Sidney winced at the memory of the blonde, “Then I am confused.” 

“Calista, my sister, went into labor that night so I took her spot,” Sera answered matter of factly. 

“So where do you work?” Sidney asked as they began walking again.

“Currently, I am working at my aunt’s travel agency,” she laughed, “Once I get that into the 21st century, I will move onto my uncle’s insurance agency. Who knows from there?”

Sidney was filled with questions for her. He wanted to know everything that there was about her life. They walked in comfortable silence before they paused at the entry to the park. Sera glanced at him. “You never answered my question, by the way.”

“Your question?” Sidney tried to remember what her question might have been.

“How is your Nanny?” Sera asked again, “You were going to fly to see her?”

Sidney looked down and kicked an imaginary rock on the sidewalk. “She….” Sidney struggled to find the words, “She……” Sera looked on with concern. “She died,” Sidney finally spit out. 

Sera’s hand went to her mouth momentarily, “Oh no! I am so sorry. I feel horrible for asking.” 

“It’s okay. You had no way of knowing,” he started to assure her. 

Suddenly she ran and leapt into his arms. “I’m so sorry, Sidney. I am so sorry, Sidney.”

His arms wrapped around her instinctively and inhaled her scent. She squeezed him tight as if it was the most natural thing on earth to do. He held onto her as the tears slid down his face. She kept repeating herself and he clung to the words. Slowly after a minute, he sat her feet back down on the ground. Without thinking, he kissed her forehead then stepped back, “I’m sorry. I should have asked.

“No, it’s fine. I would have said yes,” she looked at him shyly. “I am really sorry to hear about your Nanny,” she said without thinking and added, “I would love to hear about her some time.”

“How about over dinner?” Sidney blurted out.

“When?” Sera shocked him with her answer. 

“Tonight?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay,” she smiled before she pulled away a bit, “You can pick me up at work.” She looked at the restaurant before she spoke, “I really need to get back to work now. Can we skip the water? Do you think that you will survive? You won’t dehydrate, will you?”

“I think I’ll survive - just barely,” Sidney jested, “Can I pick you up at 5:30?”

Sera paused. She wanted to be sure that her aunt was gone when he arrived. The last thing she wanted was to set the family group chat on fire for a first date. “Let’s say six instead,” she suggested. 

“Works for me,” he started to walk backwards to his car. Sera mirrored his backwards walk as she headed back down the street to work. Sera paused and watched him get into his car. She tried to wipe the goofy grin off of her face, but it was an impossible task. 

Once he was safely in his car, she turned to walk back to the travel agency storefront. After a minute, she got the sense that she was being followed. She turned to look behind her and saw nothing. Then she saw his car in her peripheral vision. She stopped and turned to the street. “Mr. Crosby,” she called out, “Are you following me?”

“Maybe,” he called back. 

“Why?” she stepped toward his car and ignored the irritated driver in the car behind him. 

“Multiple reasons,” he shot back. He too was aware of the car behind him that impatiently waited. 

“Such as,” she smirked. 

“One, I need to know where to pick you up later, “ he explained. Sera blushed at forgetting to tell him.

“You’re a resourceful one,” she smiled, “and the other reason.” 

“I want to make sure that you got there safely,” he said while looking her directly in the eye. 

“Oh,” she replied, “Anything else?”

“Just admiring the view,” he teased, “It’s a mighty fine view.”

Sera turned around and began to walk again. She moved her hips in an exaggerated sashay movement. When she arrived at Apollo Adventures, she turned to wave at Sidney before going in. 

Her aunt looked up from her desk. “Who did you wave to?” she asked, “Anybody that I know?” 

Sera blushed, “No - it’s nobody that you know.” 

[mimisempai]

You're the only light in my blurry world 1/10

Summary

After a serious motorcycle accident several years ago, Aziraphale is unable to recognize the faces of people he loves, let alone those he doesn't know. 

But when he met Crowley for the first time, he's able to see his beautiful face with absolute clarity.

Though, because of the way he keeps looking at him, Crowley thinks Aziraphale doesn't like him.

Notes

Once again, I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm doing it anyway, and with conviction.

Masterpost for this fic : here

Crowley scratched the back of his head and sighed. 

He had that strange feeling again that he had had for several weeks. 

He felt watched.

"Crowley!"

He looked up at the person who had just called out to him and saw that it was Muriel, one of his new friends.

"Do you have to work later? We'd like to have dinner together so you can get to know us."

Crowley put his brush on the easel and replied with a smile, "Works for me!"

"Great."

Muriel walked away to a small group of people outside the hall door, and as soon as Muriel were gone, Crowley had the same strange feeling.

Ever since the day he'd arrived at the art class for adults, he'd felt someone watching him. The thing was, he knew who it was, but he hadn't dared bring it up yet. He was still new here and didn't want to draw more attention to himself. At least not that much.

After graduating as an astrophysicist and working several temporary jobs, Crowley had finally been hired on a permanent basis at the city's planetarium and was happy to finally settle down.

After adjusting to his new situation, he began looking for an art class, wanting to fulfill his second dream after studying stars and planets, to learn how to draw and paint.

After his father left her for another woman, it was his mother who raised him, sacrificing everything for Crowley's studies. Obviously, the family budget didn't allow for extras like an art class, and Crowley had waited patiently.

Three weeks ago he had discovered that there was an evening art class not far from his home and had applied. So far he'd enjoyed it. The art teacher knew how to make his class interesting and the group consisted of pretty nice people.

Except for...

**********

"Even though it's the middle of the year, I'm happy to welcome a new member to the class."

Crowley stepped into the middle of the group of about twenty people, all seated in front of easels, and approached the art teacher, who continued, "Anthony Crowley, you may introduce yourself, okay?"

Crowley turned to the small group and said with a friendly smile, "Hello everyone, my name is Anthony Crowley, but I prefer to be called Crowley. I started working at the planetarium a few weeks ago where I give lectures and teach classes for 8-15 year olds. I-"

He was rudely interrupted by a crash and turned his head to where the noise had come from to see that an easel had been knocked over as one of the class members had just gotten up. The first thing that struck Crowley was the slightly old-fashioned way the guy was dressed, especially the curly blond hair that formed a kind of halo around his head. 

As the other members of the class chuckled slightly, the clumsy fellow who had dropped his easel stammered, "Ah... uh... sorry, I'm sorry."

Instead of sitting down, however, he remained standing, glaring at Crowley, who wondered what the hell was wrong with him.

Probably another lunatic.

"So, Crowley, what can you tell us about yourself?"

Crowley snapped out of his thoughts and forgot about the clumsy guy as he replied, "It's a small group, everyone will know me soon enough."

The professor laughed and replied, "You're not wrong," then pointed to an empty seat two rows in front of the odd guy. 

As Crowley sat down, his seatmate asked, "Wow, your hair color is just gorgeous. Do you dye it yourself?"

Crowley smiled and shook his head before answering, "No, it's a friend who dyes my hair."

"Oh, could you give me their number?"

"I'll give you the address of her hair salon."

The person in front of him turned around and asked, "Why are you taking these classes?"

"I've always wanted to draw."

"That's cool!"

Then they turned to the one who had asked Crowley about his hair and smirked as they said, "Don't tell me you want the same hair color as Crowley?"

"Hell no!"

"I'm relieved because it wouldn't suit you at all. My little blonde darling."

"Hey!"

However, during the happy conversation, Crowley had a strange feeling.

Like he was being watched.

He turned to see the guy who'd dropped his easel staring at him again, then looking away as soon as their eyes met.

**********

The stares had not stopped since it happened three weeks ago.

As he joined his new friends, Crowley couldn't help but look back.

Eric, seeing this, put his hand on his arm and asked, "Hey, what are you looking at?"

Crowley shook his head and replied, "Nothing, I just remembered something weird." He then shook his head and continued, "So, what were you talking about?"

Muriel looked sad and replied, "It breaks my heart to know you weren't listening.

Crowley laughed and replied, "Sorry, sorry."

Still, he could feel the stare and it was beginning to annoy him a lot.

"Crowley?"

Crowley replied to his new friends, "Look, I have to do something, so I'll meet you at the restaurant, okay?"

"Ah? Okay, let's go then!"

"See ya!"

Aziraphale, packing his things into his bag, didn't see Crowley coming toward him and was startled when he called out, "Hey, mate! What's the matter, you got a problem with me?"

Aziraphale, more than a little surprised, stammered, "C-Crowley?"

The red-haired man replied in annoyance, "What? You've been watching me since I arrived in this class, but we don't know each other, do we?"

Aziraphale blushed slightly, said nothing and lowered his head, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I..."

He looked up again and felt the other man's expression soften, but Crowley insisted in a more inquisitive tone, "So, there's a problem? You got something against me?"

Aziraphale shook his head quickly and replied, "No, no! Really nothing!"

"Then if it's nothing, stop looking at me like that! It makes me super uncomfortable."

Aziraphale didn't have time to react because Crowley had turned on his heel and was walking away toward the art classroom door.

Now alone, Aziraphale muttered, "I guess he hates me, and I can't even tell him why I was looking at him..."

*********

"James! I'm here!"

Aziraphale arrived in front of his lover, who tossed him a motorcycle helmet, which he grabbed.

James planted a light kiss on his lips before saying, "Put it on."

Then, after putting on his own helmet, he climbed on the motorcycle and said to Aziraphale, "Climb behind me and hold me tight."

Aziraphale, with butterflies in his stomach as he always did when he was with his lover, climbed on the bike, pressed himself against James' broad back, and wrapped his arms around his waist.

He asked, "Where are we going today?

His lover put his hands on Aziraphale's and playfully replied, "You'll know when we get there."

Aziraphale remembered the wind as the motorcycle accelerated, the sun on his face, his chest against his lover's back.

After that, all he could remember was hearing his name called out in James' voice.

A pool of blood beneath his hand.

The hard asphalt on his cheek.

And then, as his eyes closed, his last memory was the panicked face of his lover.

**********

Aziraphale sighed as he left the art classroom.

"If I had known it would be the last time I saw his face..."

The first thing he remembered when he regained consciousness after the accident three years ago was his mother's voice.

**********

"Mom?"

Then he'd felt his mother's arms wrap around his shoulders and hug him as she cried against him.

When his mother stepped back, he finally opened his eyes after a few moments and asked, "It's weird...why is everything I see blurry?"

His mother stroked his cheek and replied, "That's normal, you were hit on the head and unconscious for three days. But you'll be fine now."

She got up to call the nurse.

"Mom, wait! What about James?"

He didn't see his mother's expression as she approached the bed. She started to speak, but tiredness was the strongest, so Aziraphale couldn't fight it and closed his eyes.

**********

Aziraphale shook his head and said to himself, "There's no point in dwelling on the past."

Suddenly, the ringing of his cell phone brought him out of his thoughts for good.

He took his phone out of his pocket and saw that he had a text message from someone whose number he didn't know.

He slid his thumb across the screen, and as Aziraphale read the text, his heart leapt.

Hi Zira!

Long time no see!

I hope you haven't forgotten me!

I'm sorry about what happened. 

Are you free? I'd like to have dinner with you.

James..

Received 7:00 p.m.

Aziraphale began typing a reply.

No, I'm busy right now.

Then he deleted, retyped, and finally decided not to reply. Before putting his phone back in his pocket, he looked at James' message again.

You haven't forgotten me, I hope!

Aziraphale muttered, "How could I?"

Then, seeing the front of his bookshop in the distance, he breathed a sigh of relief.

It had been an emotional evening between the Crowley discussion and his ex contacting him after three years of silence, so he was looking forward to being home soon.

He murmured, "First thing I need is a drink."

Feeling that there were only unfriendly faces around him, Aziraphale did not really ease up until he walked through the door of his haven of peace.

As soon as he closed the front door behind him, he put his things in a corner. Then he went into the back room of the bookshop, poured himself a glass of sherry and turned on the gramophone before sinking into his old armchair.

After a sip, enjoying the burn of the alcohol in his throat, he exhaled slowly and closed his eyes.

Aziraphale tried to remember James' face, but in the end, another face appeared.

Crowley's, of course.

He ran his hand over his face, cursing his karma.

An ex-lover who seemed to want to reconnect, but whose face he couldn't remember, and for whom his heart no longer beat.

An angry potential love interest who was the only face he recognized and who made him feel things he hadn't felt in a long time.

He took another sip.

"I'm doomed."

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here 

[steventhusiast]

since i'm a day late i am speedrunning writing day 2 so i don't fall behind HAHA so this is @steddie-week day 2: bittersweet

<- day one

--

steve tapes shut a cardboard box of belongings, and takes a deep breath. he is determined to keep it together until eddie's gone. he has to.

"stevie, be honest with me. should i take the guitar covered in upside down goo with me to college?" eddie asks him from the doorway, holding up said guitar and frowning at it intensely.

steve lets out a little giggle, and smiles fondly at his boyfriend.

"eds, be honest with me. would you be able to let yourself leave it here?" he retorts, and eddie mutters something to himself, then realises steve's words and points at him accusingly.

"don't call her an it!"

and with that eddie is off down the hall and yelling at wayne to leave space in the van for his guitar, and steve lets his smile fall as he's alone with eddie's box of clothes.

he's happy for eddie, he really is. he finally managed to graduate, and got into a music programme at a college an hour and a half away. steve has been so proud of eddie ever since he admitted to him in a hushed whisper at 3am that he had let himself hope this time, had applied to some college courses. and that pride had only grown since eddie got the letter saying he got in.

but with that pride and happiness, he's also feeling sad. he and eddie have only been together for a few months. it took them a bit after the fourth coming of the apocalypse to get their shit together and start dating, but steve can't remember what life looks like without eddie by his side every day.

admittedly, they're a little codependent, but steve's scared. they're not breaking up or anything, and have committed already to a weekend schedule where one week steve drives to see eddie, and the next week eddie drives to see steve, but steve's still feeling things about the whole thing.

he just doesn't want to bring eddie down. he's so happy today, steve's never seen his boyfriend so full of self-pride. he can't be the one to ruin that.

steve hears a gentle knocking sound, and looks up to see eddie giving him a meaningful look. he's leaning against his door frame, all his weight on one foot, so steve figures he's been there for at least ten seconds, watching him look all wistful and pathetic.

"hey! finished taping up this box." he decides to try and ignore the look on eddie's face, but eddie's not having it at all.

he pushes off the doorframe and comes to sit next to steve on the edge of his stripped-bare bed.

"what's with the face, sweetheart?" eddie asks him, voice softer than usual. steve just shakes his head.

"nothing, just.. you know. you're leaving?" he stops talking for a second, lets out a long sigh, and then continues, "i don't know, it suddenly hit me you're not gonna be here a lot of the time."

eddie hums at his words, lets the confession sit there in the silence for a moment, and then shuffles closer to steve and wraps both arms around him, pushing the box of clothes onto the floor.

"now i know my boyfriend didn't just dismiss his very valid feelings as 'nothing', because that would be obscene." eddie murmurs into steve's ear from where he's settled his chin on his shoulder.

"okay, i know it's not nothing. i just don't want to bring the mood down. you're so happy, i can't ruin that."

"you having feelings doesn't ruin my day. if anything, i'm kind of glad you're sad about me leaving. does that make me an asshole?" eddie confesses, and steve gently nudges eddie off his shoulder so he can lean back and look at him in the eyes, confused.

"what do you mean?"

"you being sad means you're gonna miss me. and i sure as hell am gonna miss you, so much. so.. i don't know. it's validating?" eddie tries to explain, and then starts tripping over his words as steve doesn't say anything in response, "not that i want you to be sad! i don't know! feelings are weird and they don't make sense i just know that i'm gonna miss you like hell and-"

steve cuts eddie off with a searing kiss, and then lets their gentle hug continue.

"i'm kinda glad you're gonna miss me, too." he admits, and then they start chuckling to themselves at the slight absurdity of their conversation. they both knew they're going to miss each other, but it was nice to hear it out loud.

"that better not have been my goodbye kiss." eddie says after a few seconds, and steve makes a noise like he's not sure if he should be offended.

"i'm literally driving with you to help you unpack in your dorm."

"i'm just saying! if that was my goodbye kiss i want a refund and a redo because i know you can do better, harrington."

steve lets his forehead fall onto eddie's shoulder as he giggles to himself.

"you're so weird, munson."

"i know." they let the silence sit again for a minute, and then eddie dramatically gets up and puts both his hands on his hips, "right, these boxes aren't gonna walk themselves to the car. let's go, mister jock."

--

-> day three

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Ten (Part 2)

I smile and shake my head, because I’m sure that I won’t be. Jude shuffles on the bed to readjust himself, and when he settles, his leg is resting against mine. It’s warm, mine feels cold. I notice it and wait for him to move but he doesn’t, so I just let our skin touch, and I get a shiver from my toes to the top of my head.

“When you go to Berlin,” I start. “Will you know anybody else there?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m going on my own, which I’m kind of excited about.”

“Scared though?”

“Yeah, a little bit I suppose. More excited.”

“I think I’d be scared to leave and be away from everybody I know.”

“Yeah, I get that, but I wasn’t really thinking that way when I applied for university there, it was honestly more about the experience I’d have and what I’d learn from doing my degree there.” He shrugs “Plus when I applied I didn’t actually think I’d be going on my own.” 

“No?”

“My girlfriend at the time and I applied together, actually, but she didn’t get in. It was brutal, we got our letters on the same day. Art schools work like that sometimes, they send their offers out earlier than other courses because your Leaving Cert points aren’t important. I got accepted and she didn’t, so it was a bad day.”

“So you decided to go alone anyway?”

“Yeah it felt like the best choice for me, I just didn’t see myself being in Ireland anymore, I don’t want to waste my early twenties in this horrible recession, and I don’t want to graduate into it with no job prospects. I just need to get away from it.”

“and your girlfriend?”

“We broke up. We called it quits before our exams. I didn’t want to put her through the long distance thing, like, honestly I didn’t want to put myself through it, because I knew I couldn't handle that. I really just… I don't want any attachments when I go, like, no responsibilities towards anybody else. Having a relationship while trying to navigate the changes that are ahead of me,” He shakes his head. “It would be too hard.”

“Wow. How long were you together?”

“Almost a year.”

That seems like forever to me. Nobody I know has been in a relationship for that long. “It must have been a hard decision.”

“It was, she’s a great person.”

“Well you can always get back together at some point in the future, you know, like maybe someday when you graduate…” I don’t continue because he’s already shaking his head no. 

“I don’t think so – It’s just over, I can’t really see us picking up where we left off, like, nothing to do with her or the relationship per se. It’s just that I feel like I can’t ever go backwards, once it’s done, it’s done for me. I just don’t really hang on to other people in that way.”

I think about how I do. I’m a clinger and I always have been, so his philosophy on life is totally foreign to me, just like the idea of jetting off to some unknown city all on my own without speaking the language or knowing how a single thing in its society operates. I think that he’s much braver than I am for doing it, but I’m a little sad that he’s going. Maybe in a parallel universe he and I would have attended the same art college and been friends who hung around in Dublin together after our respective classes, sitting outside coffee shops in the city and talking about art and sculpture and our silly assignments, but none of that will happen. In a few weeks he’ll be gone forever and I will likely never get to see him again. 

I look down at our legs and move mine away from his. Perhaps it’s not a good idea for us to be touching after all. 

“You look a little sleepy.” He says to me gently, and I am. I’m more than sleepy. It’s so late now that I must be awake for almost forty hours straight, running purely on the last shreds of adrenaline from being with him, but as soon as he mentions sleep my eyelids feel so heavy, and even the hard, flat wall that my back rests against feels cosy. I’m certain I could doze off in this exact position. I admit it, “I am.”

“Then sleep. I’ll leave.”

“Okay.”

He makes a tiny movement towards me and then hesitates and begins to get up. “Okay Evie, I’ll see you again soon.” 

I reach out my weary arms for a hug goodbye and when he leans in to embrace me my face grazes his neck, and he’s warm and his arms are strong and I wonder what the consequences would be if I let myself fall asleep on him right there and then. Maybe he’d be forced to stay here with me all night.

“I’ll text you when I’m free to hang out again.” He says, letting me go.

“Mm”

I lay down to sleep on the bed. The blankets are so warm from where he was sitting. 

Before my eyes drift closed and I surrender to my exhaustion I glimpse him climbing nimbly out the window and hopping down onto the grass outside, disappearing into the darkness and leaving the gauzy curtains fluttering behind him. It’s like he was never even here. 

Prev // Next

[ceasarslegion]

Pls tell me more about ur news experience while protesting the Ford gov and their shitty choices?

I was going to UofT at the time when the ford government gutted OSAP, the ontario student aid program for those out of the know. They converted all grants into loans and no longer gave money to cover living expenses, and they struck down the 6 month grace period ontario students had after graduation to find well-paying jobs before their repayment started.

For the americans here, i should contextualize that student loans in canada do not at all work like they do in the US. We take out loans from a combination of the federal government (known as NSLSC loans) and our provinces of residence specifically. When we apply, we fill out our financial info including our income and if we are considered an "independent" student or not, the legal definition of which differs depending on your province of residence. The main difference being that independent students dont include their parents' incomes when they first apply, theyre considered their sole and only breadwinner. Depending on that income and a few other personal points, you get a combination of loans and grants that cover both tuition and partial living expenses, and when you graduate, the federal government takes all your loan and income info and doles you out a personalized regular payment plan so you have it completely paid off after 10 years if you follow it. And you have 6 months after you graduate uni to find a job and get settled where you don't pay anything. Theres also other options if you still cant pay like the repayment assistance program that freezes your payments entirely if you prove youre below a certain wealth bracket, but thats the gist of it.

Now that everyone knows the context i can tell the story. The ford government of ontario circa 2019 decided that ontario university students dont need living expense coverage, that it would universally be loans regardless of any low income status, and that the post-grad grace period wasnt necessary. And being in one of the most expensive cities in the country, that was not going to fly with my peers.

I personally took out my provincial loans from alberta student aid that has all those benefits, so the OSAP gut didnt actually affect me at all, but injustice is still injustice even if it doesnt affect me, so i joined the student protests against the ford government that people were bussing in from the other side of the province to attend. At some point along the line, other folks noticed that i was comfortable around the news cameras and my main strengths were in public speaking, so when cameras were around asking for interviews i was pushed in front of them a lot to be trusted to explain our grievances and goals without getting noticeably hotheaded, so i did a lot of live interviews for CTV and citynews toronto during those few months.

And they were kinda right to do that. Im really good at interviews and public speaking and arguing points in general, and not the best at more hands-on things when it comes to activism. And like, you do need PR people to get support for a cause, contrary to what a lot of tumblr users seem to think. Like you need people whose jobs are to present your grievances and reasons for marching in a way that presents you as respectful and worth listening to and considering the points of. So that was mainly my role in those protests. I dont know if you can still easily find those interviews buried in their broadcast archives but if you want to look for me be my guest

[neverenoughmarauders]

Ch 70: Alice Fawley

Chapter 70 of I solemnly swear is out - and it's our first chapter from Alice's point of view. Our lovely trio are growing up so fast. I cannot believe they are going to be graduating from Hogwarts after this school year (and that I am going to have to break up Alice/Gideon).

Extract:

Alice looked up as she heard footsteps approaching. Gideon emerged between the two bookshelves, and though he had looked a little lost in thought, he smiled brightly as he saw her. It did something to her, seeing Gideon smile like that. Alice was aware she was positively beaming back at him as he took the seat next to her. 

He squeezed her hand quickly: 'I am afraid it's just me today. Fabian's got a headache.'

Alice felt her smile falter.

'No need to look so disappointed.' Gideon's lips twitched ever so slightly, 'I know I am a bit of a letdown in comparison, but you'll have to make do.' 

Alice leaned her head against Gideon's shoulder. Despite the slight blow - she really could need Fabian's help - she was never disappointed to be able to spend time with Gideon. She inhaled deeply, relishing the feeling of his warm lips kissing her gently on her forehead as she looked up at him. It took a lot of willpower to straighten up again - she didn't want to stop feeling Gideon's body against hers, not now, not ever.

'It's the Auror application,' she explained, gesturing towards the piece of parchment.

'Making leaps of progress, I see,' Gideon smiled as he glanced at the blank emptiness that was her attempt at explaining why she was suited for the job - or lack of attempt, so far.

'I feel like I've messed up,' Alice confessed. 

Gideon's smile faltered, as his brown eyes found hers: 'What makes you say that?'

'I have nothing to show for.'

'Only your outstanding O.W.L.s you mean?'

'Yes,' Alice agreed, emphasising the word: 'Only my O.W.L.s. Gid, this is the Auror office. Frank Longbottom was a prefect and Head Boy. Fabian is Quidditch captain and Head Boy. What have I done?'

'You've been busy making the school a better place. You help lots of students with their homework, you are always available should the teachers need an extra hand.'

'That's nothing much to put in an application.'

'You never liked that stuff anyways,' Gideon said, 'Prefect, Head Girl, clubs and sports.'

It was true, but that might in itself be a problem: 'I shy away from leadership,' Alice confessed, 'but that probably makes me a terrible Auror.'

'I don't believe that,' Gideon said, taking her hand again. 'Al, the Auror office needs more people like you too. People who give their everything but without seeking credit. People who pick up the less fun, less glorified aspects of the job.'

Alice wanted to believe him, but she knew he would say anything to make her feel better. 

'What about you?' Alice asked. 'Started applying for jobs yet?'

Gideon gave her hand a final squeeze before letting it go and bent down to pick up his school bag. 

'I'm not applying for anything half as competitive as the Auror office,' said he confidently as he pulled out an exceptionally thick book on the 1612 goblin rebellion. Alice really didn't understand what more there was to learn about these rebellions but it seemed to keep Gideon busy enough. 'I have plenty of time before I need to worry.'

'It might be time to start worrying about what you want to do though,' Alice tried gently.

'Maybe,' Gideon agreed, but his eyes were focused on his school bag as he plucked out a quill and a piece of parchment, and Alice knew it was a lost cause. 

The problem was that Alice suspected she knew exactly what Gideon wanted to do. He had talked to her about it plenty of times before their sixth year. Since then, however, he'd remained silent on the topic. Gideon's interests didn't lie in Britain, and Alice didn't know if she was more worried that he'd settle for something else to be close to her, or that he'd follow his dream, and leave her behind.

[sodacansculptures]

I started following you on Facebook some years ago, and then apparently forgot all about your stuff. It just popped into my head randomly and I wanted to see if you're still active and if you're still making soda can sculptures?

Hi, I apologize, I have no idea when you sent this since Tumblr (at least mobile) doesn't have time stamps, and for whatever reason, I don't get notifications about messages. You're the first person I've heard who has migrated from my Facebook page to my Tumblr, so thank you for joining the blog! Way more commentary here than there where my mom can see.

To answer your question succinctly: I am alive, and that's about the best I can say I've been since covid. 

(I have donation links at the bottom, if you feel moved to want to help me.)

The extended director's cut answer:

After I made the Eevee sculpture, grad school ramped up and I figured I'd return to sculpting after I got my degree and settled into a job. However, I graduated in Spring of 2020, so the job I had lined up was withdrawn, and with all the budget cuts and layoffs in my field, I was competing for jobs with people who were trying to reenter the field and had decades more experience than me. 

I did 100+ applications (I lost count at 120-something), dozens of interviews (including getting to the final round of all that had such a format--which is a stupid format. You don't need to meet me in a formal pretense 3 times, ask me riddles, have me take multiple hour-long aptitude tests, plus make me travel on my own dime just to tell me "no" and not even send like a "2nd Place Loser" gift basket or accept my LinkedIn request or anything). I got super stressed and super depressed. 

I was so busy with trying to find a job and trying to deal with the breakdowns of not finding one. I tried applying in all the fields I was capable of at all levels: executive, mid, and gruntwork. I was turned down from entry level, no-talent-necessary jobs because I was overqualified. I was turned away from the others because of the lack of experience and unprecedented level and caliber of competition.

I was (still am) unable to pay my bills and, when not having breakdowns, I was calling, emailing, filling out applications, etc. for any and all financial aid. It was very arduous work and tedious with all the documentation they wanted from me, hold times on the phone, etc. 

I had a non-profit (ADVOCAP) laugh at me when I asked for rent help because apparently they were overwhelmed and I wasn't going to get anything as I didn't have a job or kids and was considered a non-priority. Later when I was working with the ADRC, I asked if my case manager (I applied for disability, but I'll explain in a bit) if she knew of any rent help. She basically scolded me for asking and told me that it was unethical of me to seek that because "that's for people who actually have a chance." People who have jobs, she means. She explained that that money wasn't meant for me, and that was a whole unexpected slap in the face with a bag of dogshit. Didn't realize we had devolved into a utilitarian society quite that quickly.

I started working with FSET (my state's employment training and search help program. I was literally trying everything. Like I had also called my college and emailed all my professors asking for job help, and they had no answers other than like, "look online"). After months of no luck, FSET eventually convinced me to sign with a temp agency.

I worked 2 temp jobs that treated me like garbage (worsening my depression) and also paid me as such. I had lost all my savings to trying to stay afloat and my free time was non-existent, unless you count the hours I'd spend in the middle of the night just walking around my neighborhood listening to music--in an attempt to stop what seemed like endless crying--while I cried.

I tried selling plasma but they rejected me because I couldn't ever get my heart rate low enough, as my antidepressants increase heart rate. I tried going off of them, but I was on them for a reason, so I need to go back on.

When I graduated, I had bought myself a PS4 as a graduation gift to myself. I could afford it and thought I earned it. All the atmosphere of rejection and failure the pandemic created for me and my link to survival (employment should not be tied to survival. I was doing everything right and the system was failing me direly while virtually no one else who shared my experiences understood why I couldn't get a job when "everywhere is hiring" and "nobody wants to work anymore") and I started to hate myself for stuff like gifting myself the PS4. I felt undeserving, like a waste of resources, etc. because those were the messages I was constantly receiving directly and indirectly.

I eventually landed a job in my field and was hired on the spot. I felt like I had hit the jackpot and finally was going to be okay. Surprisingly to everyone in my life, the job made my life even worse.

I signed an NDA due to being horribly abused for the 10 months I was there, so I can't say much more than I just barely paid off my credit card, still had no free time as I was salary and worked nights and weekends in addition to my scheduled hours because the real reason they hired me instantly was not because I impressed them but rather because they were collapsing and desperate for anyone with some level of responsibility and capability. I hated that job, was bullied and abused extremely badly by coworkers and bosses and HR was no help, and when my performance review came back with negative impressions of me when I was sacrificing so much to keep the employment entity alive and functional, I completely broke.

I ended up hospitalized for months for suicide, and part of the NDA included resigning. I never fully recovered and don't think I ever will. I think I've seen and experienced too much to return to the idea that I could be the trailblazer my professors projected me to be (I now think professors don't actually provide an accurate representation of the field and encourage with no basis for their optimism). 

The human mind is very easy to manipulate with propaganda, and I didn't catch myself being in a sort of “main character syndrome” and thinking that because I was Valedictorian of my graduating class and that I had so many national and international recognitions, awards, accolades, and qualifications that I was, for lack of a better term, pulling myself up by the bootstraps and going to be rewarded with a promising future where success is not just viable but imminent. I knew the world wasn't fair and that some people could do all the prescribed “right” steps and fail, but the operating paradigm (that had been ingrained in me since childhood from teachers who saw me as bright) I had held told me that I was far too talented and hard-working to fail. I had very little doubt that I wouldn't be successful. I was an ideal, hypothetical model of a pre-successful American worker.

So anyway, I didn't expect to have all the trouble that I faced finding a good job. At the end of the first summer of covid with nothing but rejections and employers affirming to me that there was nothing I could have improved on to get the job other than have prior experience, I was a discouraged worker who didn't even try anymore. 

That's when FSET convinced me to do the temp agencies (who dropped me because one employer who was inhumanely abusive and ironically an HR department) gave a bullshit reason about me violating a protocol so they wouldn't have to make good on their promise to hire me after the temp period. 

(I had allergies and it was literally the exact week in September when allergies were at their worst. A coworker, who hated me for some reason I never figured out and can only assume was jealousy, reported me for having a runny nose and I was immediately escorted out for bringing covid symptoms into the building. If I didn't go to work any day I had a runny nose, I wouldn't go any day. I take allergy meds literally every day of my life. My parents kept me too clean as a baby or something and didn't let me eat enough dirt, so an allergy panel showed I was allergic to every single common indoor and outdoor allergen).

Back to my suicidal hospitalization: I could say so much on the inpatient part. Suffice it to say I was never given my meds and there were no groups because they were understaffed and constantly wound up/pissed because of the uncooperative patients, so it was like prison where you had to argue with staff to get your basic needs met, and no soft surface existed and the water was always freezing, so it genuinely felt like being locked in a concrete box with no sunlight, no one on your side (they lied and said they called my psychiatrist and therapist. They never did. They also lied about ordering my meds), and no contact with the outside world. It was like a cruelly-designed Mr. Beast challenge with no reward in the end. 

My friends said I was messed up for 2 weeks after and scary af because I was in survival-fight mode that would not turn off. I also was too overwhelmed by the outside world when I got out and could only eat pre-packaged snacks for a while because that was all I was used to/comfortable with.

Part of the agreement to let me leave inpatient was to do an intensive all-day outpatient program. I was actually dropped from that by insurance because I had undiagnosed ADHD among all my other issues and couldn't show up on time or sometimes at all. I still don't have my ADHD figured out because I had to convince my psychiatrist to refer me to a neuropsych who booked out for months to test me. I did it and got “Yes, much ADHD. All of the ADHD. Very wow.” So my psychiatrist finally believed me and agreed to start me on ADHD meds.

My psychiatrist and I are still working to find an ADHD med that would work for me. Vyvanse helped for a time, but my body metabolized it too quickly, leaving me with only around 6 functional hours in the day. I'm currently on extended-release Adderall, but so far not much help and there are too many other variables that could be fucking with it, like that my sleep-wake cycle is extremely unpredictable and I have a million appointments every day, so I am constantly sleep-deprived and am actually busier now than I was in grad school or any 8-hour job I worked.

The breakdown I had triggered me to develop fibromyalgia, so that has been a whole ordeal. I'm constantly in pain, it again took many months to see any doctor about it, and the meds take so long to start taking effect that we've been trying since June to find something that works.

The crucible that was my pandemic experience didn't refine me like fire refines gold or whatever the saying is but rather left me burnt, and not in the way that you can scrape the charred parts off of toast but like BURNT burnt (I can't think of an example. Maybe a popsicle. You're not getting that back once you take a flamethrower to it. Plus the stick would crumble into ash. RIP popsicle).

My life lately is a lot of appointments I often miss and have to reschedule, arguments with various agencies and even my doctors, breakdowns, and driving for Uber Eats because no one can fire me (but it pays beans and I get flack from restaurants and customers AND Uber because somehow the driver is the scapegoat for any issue that arises. I was so proud of my delivery aptitude and quality service until the tip-baiters and people being assholes for no reason started hitting me as common and daily occurrences). 

A lot of people don't understand how UberEats works, but Uber doesn't even pay their driver enough to cover gas or depreciation on their vehicle for the mileage, much less the value of the driver's time and physical efforts. Tips are literally ⅔ of my income and my income does not cover my bills despite all the time I put in and algorithm I set up for myself that determines which trips to accept/reject for the most profit. It's a very toxic and unprotected form of employment. A lot of people lie that I didn't give them their food so that they can get a refund, but that comes back on me and risks my account being deactivated. It's virtually a fear-based system with some tricky artificial competition that Uber likes to throw in from time to time to convince us to drive for less and less pay. 

I've looked into all the alternatives like GrubHub, Spark, DoorDash, etc. but I've been on their waiting lists for years, including GrubHub booting me off their list even though I was always quick to respond to their periodic question of if I still wanted to be on the list.

Between depression and ADHD, I can't work a normal job. I no longer have the capacity to keep a routine and can't show up to things with any level of reliability despite how badly I want to. I also don't have the spoons to deal with working with others or being accountable for tasks that feel--idk how to articulate it, but like--stupid to my autism. If something seems inefficient or not progressive (like not helpful to humanity) to me, I can't get my brain to do it. And with ADHD, if it's not interesting to me/something I am passionate about (I was extremely lucky that learning and receiving the praise from teachers I never got from my parents was my passion that got me so far and through multiple degrees), I can't get my brain to let me do it. Sometimes I just can't do anything, including things I want to do, and simply end up stuck. I wouldn't last in any job that wasn't self-directed and only happening when I have the spoons to be available. My options are very limited. And Uber can be slow. I've had times where I've waited 13 hours and not gotten a single request that wasn't going to cost me money to run.

Uber has some personal difficulties for me. In the summer, I found it a little bit fun, but now that it's cold, my Raynaud's is painful and I don't enjoy having to watch out for people who got their licenses from cereal boxes and don't know how to drive in the snow. It's an unpleasant sensory experience for me to work and honestly risky safety-wise. People don't turn on their porch lights for some reason (I have a headlamp now) and don't salt their walkways, and I'm uncoordinated because my dad didn't throw a ball at me enough as a kid probably, so there's ice, the treads on my boots are shot (and I can't afford to replace them), and I get banged up from falling on concrete. 

I have a chiropractor and physical therapist, and they each said even before this that they could see me every day and still have something to work on with me. It's affirming, at least, to hear that professionals can physically feel how in pain my body is and that it's not just me being a baby. Part of it, I'm sure, is that I have PTSD (including from the traumas of my various pandemic experiences) and have horrible nightmares every night where I jerk around a lot in my sleep. I wake up every day feeling like I got hit by a bus, which is also partially why I don't get places on time. 

On my own time, I'll spend 2 hours trying to get out of bed both overcoming the pain to move and convincing myself to get the willpower to. It's so much easier to just lie there and accept it, especially when I don't look forward to having to do another day. I don't feel rested because I spent the night working my body and brain, so I'm not sure I ever am rested. I need so much more sleep now, too, with fibromyalgia. This adds to my stress of outpacing my bills and just keeping up with the maintenance of myself and my apartment because that's less time I have to get things done.

I have 4 alarms (phone vibrating plus noise, an earthquake pillow one, my Fitbit vibrating on my wrist, and a Pavlok going all out screaming, vibrating, and shocking me with electricity), and it's still possible for me to sleep through all of them or somehow turn them off while half-asleep and go back to sleep. There are also times where I will be like, “Okay, getting up now,” and then I black out and it's 4 hours later and I missed 3 appointments that will take weeks to reschedule, if the clinic hasn't dropped me for the tardiness and absence. I'm running out of clinics to go to.

On a mental level, I am in a near-constant state of overwhelm that holds me inches from a full-blown, all-day breakdown at any given moment. Something about being so stressed with no relief for years on end has rewired my brain, I think, to make the adrenaline pathway so reinforced and the stress part of the brain overlit/overactive. I don't know how to relax. Doctors keep telling me I need to, especially with fibromyalgia, but I physically cannot seem to do it. I can't focus on anything like movies. Nothing is fun when I have always-present and terrorizing (by threatening my survival) pressure from all these stressors (mainly money. I'm in a constant race against my monthly bills, and each month, they creep closer and closer to outpacing me). I'm never happy to wake up and I'm always low-key scared. I'm desperate for security in any form.

I was so unable to do tasks after my suicidal breakdown that even though my psychiatrist, therapist, and general physician were begging me to apply for disability. I had hoped I just needed a few months of R&R and would be right back to being willing and able to work. That never happened, and it was extremely difficult for me to accept the fact that I was disabled. When I finally did, I begged for months for people to help me fill out all the forms (they were overwhelming me, which is, y'know, kind of a key feature of my disability) and no one did, so I lost months of time there. I eventually just had a moment of conviction or indignation or something that I was able to force myself to do them. I'm still kind of mad at everyone who didn't help.

My therapist actually did her best to help and, when the outpatient hospital ousted me because insurance refused to pay for it anymore, referred me to the county's CCS (Community Care Something-or-other) program. They gave me a worker who allegedly had some psychology- or human services-related degree who would help me function for 1 hour a week. I think the whole program is a farce and despite spending hours on this program, we accomplished absolutely nothing.

The first CCS worker I had was supposed to come over to my place (which had become a mess. I was a messy person before, as my apartment was a graveyard of unfinished projects due to my ADHD), but with my extended burnout, I wasn't cleaning and organizing on the level I used to. So I texted my CCS person a warning that my kitchen table was cluttered. I mean it to mean, “It will take me a minute to clear the table once you get here for your laptop for you to finish the unreasonably long entry paperwork on me, and I haven't gotten the energy to declutter it yet and won't until you get here because my ADHD needs a body double right now. She, for reasons I still don't understand, canceled the visit and never came. When I confronted her about what I meant, she was like…embarrassed to the point of not being willing to work with me anymore. There was a communication breakdown that I couldn't get her to communicate with me and she was somehow scared of how much and how articulated or something I communicated that she shut down. 

I understand I “overcommunicate” from the perspective of allistics and neurotypicals [I had a bad childhood and was invalidated and wrongly blamed for things a lot, so I give as much explanation as possible to avoid any misunderstanding and articulate to the point that there won't be any ambiguities and thus can't be twisted into reason to punish me when I've done nothing to earn punishment. My caretakers as a child had their own mental issues that led them to being unreliable/unsafe to me and didn't offer me any feelings of security in relationships, perspective of reality (them taking their anger out on me and telling me everything, including their personal problems, was my fault), and ultimately everyone seems to say they want transparency and communication, but from my experiences and perspective, they don't want that. I have no idea what they really want. I give the level of communication I would want someone to give me and hope that they will just discard the parts they don't need/want, and apparently that's me being a burden or something and a “bad” quality. 

Meanwhile, I WISH people would communicate and be transparent with me more. I think I am an understanding person who has done enough work on themselves to not repeat toxic patterns and be a healthy relationship to others. I don't listen to judge but to understand so I can work with the other person to fix any problems and work with what we got, not devalue them and distance myself or abandon them. Everyone on dating apps says they want this, but I've yet to meet someone who does. I think it's that people see this as an ideal but are unskilled at the time to play their role in the situation–both in offering and responding. I think I've put so many years of therapy and introspection into working on myself that others just haven't, so we're simply on different levels. I know I'm not alone in my experiences, but it's very isolating when you don't meet people who have done the same work.

Anyway, I got assigned a new CCS worker and she did not do all that work I described. When I was told I would be assigned to someone else, I specifically asked for one who has seen some shit and that nothing I do or say will move them. They did at least give me someone older with more experience, but she either over- or under-estimated me (I can't discern which). She, working in the same building as my therapist and being basically in at least a good bit of communication with her when I wasn't around, knew that I had a lot of crap going on that I needed more therapy/support/help unraveling and making sense of and peace with than the 45 min/week I got with my current therapist. So she offered to be like a second therapist and said I could tell her absolutely anything.

As the pattern of this narrative likely already cues, it turned out I could not tell her absolutely anything. I was a few months into my transition and no one prepares you for some of the changes. My endocrinologist had only told me, “You might go bald.” I thought my years of research and consulting with transmen in my life had encompassed all I needed to know. However, we sometimes do not know what we don't know and thus don't think to ask the questions we need to ask. As probably an autistic/abused person trait of mine, I speak very clinically and technically. At the time, I had recently been speaking with my therapist about anatomical changes that triggered emotions I was not prepared for. I attempted the same sort of conversation with my new CCS worker, but she yelled me for being inappropriate. Not just scolded but legit yelled, as if I wasn't a full grown adult capable of reason and discussion.

I was confused on what I did wrong, since I thought I was just taking her up on what she willingly offered. I am also a firm believer in the Mister Rogers quote about how anything that is mentionable is manageable (which goes back to why I don't listen to judge but rather to collaborate and also why I see disagreements as us vs. the problem rather than me vs. them. I do not feel the need to yell at someone unless it's like an emergency of some sort and there's a threat that yelling can somehow address and be beneficial to the situation). 

From my perspective, I was being shut down and punished/shamed for asking for help with a problem that legit scared me and that I was willing to be vulnerable enough to share. I consider that sort of thing sacred and not something that can be trusted in everyone's hands. But the way she responded, to me, reinforced that I was a person unworthy of help: a message received from my childhood caretakers and all the people who were supposedly there to help me during my pandemic crises. 

I couldn't bring myself to trust her anymore or even want to see her again. I'll admit that's a bit of my Emotional Dysregulation Disorder weighing in, but I didn't want her in any intimate spaces I'd need to let her into in order to serve me in her CCS capacity. I had had too many things go wrong lately in that time to not shut myself down to prevent more hurt by simply refusing any future opportunity for more hurt to occur. I was well beyond my limit and it took much convincing from my therapist for me to even give CCS a chance to help me.

Still, I asked to be reassigned to another CCS worker, this time knowing that I could not trust what they claim to offer and just keep the things we work on surface-level functioning--like cleaning my oven or going through the pile of mail I hadn't opened in weeks because their potential contents paralyzed me with fear.

I was denied my request and let go from the program as they felt I had burned through 2 workers and thus proven that I am not a good candidate for the program. I still don't agree with this and argued, but after weeks of (a reasonable number of) periodic emails and voicemails, I never got an email or call back. In hindsight, I maybe should have reported to the county what happened, but it's been like a year.

That mostly brings us back to the present. I have been back in FSET since Spring but just focusing on staying afloat with Uber/working on whatever I can handle. I had a whole researched and designed pitch asking them to fund the several hundred dollars it would be for me to become a mobile notary, but they denied my request as they lack the funds. They also denied my request for new boots for the Uber hazards because they felt it was a fashion thing and not a need. Agencies, or honestly anyone with any power over me, not understanding me even with my articulate, crystal-clear explanations isn't surprising to me anymore. And counterintuitively, more explanation (even from different approaches) does not help and just makes me think I'm weird, which somehow is taken as more cause to not grant whatever request it is I am making in the first place.

So I Uber, I argue with doctors and agencies to try to get my needs met, and I have breakdowns despite my efforts to not. I have always had a massive list of more sculptures I want to make. I do want to get to a point where I can make them someday. I've been waiting on disability for an answer for nearly a year and done all I can to bolster my case with getting doctor testimonies, giving my testimony, noting clinic visits so the person assigned to my case can view the findings of them, getting an ADRC contact to guide me (though looking back, she didn't help at all and it was me searching out and discovering everything on my own while all she did was forward what documentation I had to the state for me)... All I can do is try to survive until they say “yes,” but they usually say “no” first (which is why an alarming number of people file bankruptcy and/or die waiting for a disability decision), especially since mental health reasons are the hardest ones to get approved, and my ADRC contact has been using language such as, “This will make it easier for next time,” and I'm not prepared to hear her tell me she thinks we'll have to file another claim and wait another year, so I don't ask 

I feel terrible that I've not been sculpting or posting. I miss engaging the Tumblr community and sharing my art with people who appreciate it (and not tell me it's garbage. Wtf, Grandma). 

The fact that I couldn't actually bring myself to commit suicide and still don't even though the extremely-difficult-to-survive--particularly with multiple debilitating ailments--and high cost I incur daily to myself trying to keep my head above water as long as I can, tells me that there is a life better than this that I want to live. I can't fathom for myself anything other than what is current, and I am putting all my chips into believing that I could be wrong and there's a chance all my striving will eventually meet stable ground to rest upon, where I can return to myself and make art again. I hate to think this wreck is who I really am and want to believe this is just who I am under a stupid-amount of pressure that no human should ever have to endure. A lot of people have been quick to point out all the resources, but I guarantee I've pursued all of them hard and received some help but not nearly enough. It's hard to wrestle with the feelings of not being enough to live or not being worthy of living because it's such a struggle for me to throw enough money at bills/expenses to allow me to live. It shouldn't cost someone all of themselves to try (and imminently fail) to earn the allowance to live.

Things like the ACP and student loan freeze (I owe $80,000+ because college is an overpromising, commercialized thing that is more gamble than guarantee) are ending soon (or maybe have ended and I just haven't opened my mail to know), and I'm deathly afraid. Uber isn't enough and on down-times with them and when my various ailments aren't being debilitating, I work on selling things to try to make enough for the month. Obviously I'm eventually going to run out of things to sell. 

I'm also fearful that my estimated disability check, if I get one, is only going to be $900/month, because I didn't get enough work experience to be allowed more. I genuinely don't know that that's going to be enough, especially since the price of everything like rent is inflating. I don't know how long I can financially sustain my means of survival. But I'm still doing everything I can. It's jarring to go from decorated Valedictorian to…whatever exhausted mess this is. 

My parents stopped asking me months ago how things are going because they know it's never good. They don't have the means to help me as my mom got laid off of work, my dad has dementia and doesn't work, and if I have to live with them again, I would essentially be signing off on my own death certificate because even spending a few hours in that home, with those people, is enough to completely drain me, trigger so much PTSD, grind my mental health down even more with whatever new dynamics and energies they decide to inject in our interactions. I wasn't free to fight the battles I needed to until I moved out into my own private space, and since it is the cheapest option in the entire city and so necessary of a component to my mental health, my therapist identified keeping my apartment as my number one priority. With my mental health, I wouldn't do well at all or be able to get back on my feet if I was homeless.

This turned into a lot more than I intended, but I'm really satisfied that it explains my situation and makes it known that you can do everything right and still lose. The system will cannibalize you if you don't have money to start with and don't have the means to keep it coming. Poverty charges interest and there are no days off, especially if you're disabled. There are no real safetynets and the ones that exist are overwhelmed, underfunded, underpowered, and essentially only serve to make the ones who don't need them feel satisfied (and aren't outraged and pushing for changes) being sold the lie that those who need help have it available to them. Having an inside view of what the experience is, I am apalled at how little systemic support or consideration there is for the disabled, especially since it is the largest minority group that anyone can join at any time.

Some days suck worse than others, like when the weather is so bad that I cannot Uber or when my pain or mental state has been aggravated and I haven't made enough time for self-care so it has decided for me when self-care must be attended to. I wish I could give myself the self-care my mind and body need so I can be healthier, more resilient to setbacks, and feel less pain, but honestly some nights I don't even go to bed because there isn't enough time/I can't afford to not be working or selling things. Society likes to frame self-care as a luxury and only recently (since covid attacked everyone's mental health) did self-care start to be widely accepted as a need. It's just too bad all that rhetoric amounted to is awareness without action. Capitalism still demands and glorifies the nonstop grind, even if it kills us.

Obviously some days are better than others and it feels incredible when I feel a genuine smile spread across my face. I wish it wasn't so foreign of a feeling, but the fact that it is makes it more impactful. I try to give my attention to hope, even if I have no practical basis to believe it exists. 

Receiving this ask did ultimately bring a smile to my face because it means I'm still cared for in a world that kicks me to the ground daily and says I don't deserve care. It is so hard for me to even care about myself a lot of the time, with all the negative messages I've internalized from my dominatingly high ratio of experiences that are rejection or failure in some form. Ultimately, we all just want to be loved. Thank you so much for reminding me that pain isn't all there is for me (it's easy to get sucked into that mindset after years of nearly everything gutting me. I often fail to even notice myself falling into it and being consumed by it). 

I know I don't owe anyone an explanation for my absence and that no one is mad at me or blaming me for it that I would need to provide some sort of justification. But I wanted to communicate with you all because I love you. I genuinely mean that. 

I still think about this from time to time and I still want come back to making and sharing sculptures and just having fun hearing all the things you have to say about them and how delighting, inspiring, or entertaining you find them. I consider the ability to do that and this Tumblr page to be one of my greatest things I've made. I don't care about money and despise that money dictates virtually every aspect of my life in the worst way. Community, creativity, and self-improvement motivated by joy/love rather than profit/fear are of infinitely more value to me. I'm still pursuing that dynamic in the end through all of this.

By no means is anyone obligated to donate to me, but if you can afford to and want to, I'll post my payment platform things below (some may still have my birth name attached). Any amount helps and Lord knows I dove for a penny on the ground last week.

If you can't donate but still want to help, reblogging can help no matter how little reach you feel your blog has, and I also would appreciate words of encouragement or support. I also just want you to know that if you've been reading this far, I really appreciate that you care enough about me to do that.

All of my love,

Stan 

(They/Them)

PayPal:

@Stanwagner09

Venmo:

@asclw7643

Zelle:

Stan.wagner09@gmail.com

[spirallingintothevoid71]

She waited for me outside the gymnasium. The graduation ceremony was finally over.

As a student teacher, I'd gotten stuck with the less glamorous parts of the ceremony. And got stuck on clean up.

So of course, I was one of the last to leave. I thought that meant I could avoid her, but there she was, still waiting.

I saw her sitting there, watching me. I paused, feeling the nervous thrill I always felt when I saw her start to overcome me.

She'd always sat at the front of the class. Seemed to hang on my every word. Engaging me with questions. And with her piercing eyes.

They held an almost predatory intelligence. She didn't seeem to look through me. She seemed to look into me. It was terrifying... and oddly arousing. Like she could read my darkest thoughts, and approved.

And when she crossed or recrossed her legs... I had to fight not to stare, not to lose my train of thought.

And there she was.

Waiting.

She watched me pause, gauged my hesitation.

Then she slowly recrossed her legs, making no effort to straighten her graduation gown.

My eyes followed her movements. I couldn't help it anymore.

She settled her legs, placing her hands on her thigh, never taking her eyes from me. Then she turned her foot, her heel, up towards me.

My knees were shaking. I couldn't hide the arousal, the weakness building in me. It was visible on my face. It was visible... elsewhere.

"I know," she said without preamble. "I've always known."

I looked up at her, aware that I'd been staring. Embarrassed, but still struggling not to look down again. In my peripheral vision, I could see her heel lightly bobbing up and down now.

It was calling to me.

Up and down.

Screaming at me.

Up and down.

Demanding my attention.

Up and down.

Demanding my adoration.

Up and down.

I hadn't even realized that my eyes had gone back down.

"Come to me," she said, breaking the hypnotic moment again.

My eyes snapped back up. I was conflicted. I knew if I went to her, I would lose control. But my longing was overwhelming my rational brain.

She could see it all playing out on my face, of course. And on my body, where the need had no control. Where I was twitching, throbbing, my body betraying my thoughts.

"I'm not you're student anymore," she continued. "And you are a student teacher, after all. Technically, my degree is above yours."

I stared at her, my face full of questions, my mouth unwilling to work.

"Silly boy," she said, sending ripples of pleasure through me, "you don't have an obligation to teach me anymore. And all those silly rules don't apply to you anymore, either."

"Now, you know what to do. What you need to do. Come here. Come kneel, touch, taste, what you really want," she said, her voice suddenly still gentle but commanding.

I went, no longer really aware of my surroundings. I knelt, and without thinking, kissed her heel. I felt her fingers slip under my chin, lifting my face to see her glorious smile shining down on me. "Now it's time for me to teach you," she said.

I smiled up gratefully at her.

And spiraled into the Void.

[astoldbyjo]

Day 1 (again)

01/29/2024

Let this be another attempt at being consistent with journaling. Hence, the title "Day 1 (again)".

I really thought I was going to journal more frequently after my last entry here. I feel like it ended on a very strong note which would have been a good transition to my next entry. But then again, I did say that "I tend to never finish anything I start" and that includes journaling (among many other things).

This time, I won't be pressuring myself into doing this anymore. I've realized that being honest with yourself is one of the most liberating things you can do. It has allowed me to set realistic expectations and prevented me from disappointments.

To start, I'm going to commit to writing at least one entry every quarter. Now, THIS is a realistic expectation.

I spent the first month of 2024 planning and setting goals for the year. For the entire month, I was in deep self reflection -- looking back to see where I'm at in life, recognizing what I've been doing wrong from the previous years, and planning my next steps to improve my current state.

There was a lot of lessons I learned from 2023. Those learnings helped me put my priorities into perspective and narrow down my goals for 2024 into 5 things:

Enhancing my current skill set

Developing new skills

Finding what I'm passionate about

Finding role models and mentors

Finding opportunities for passive income

I do have "mini goals" on the side but these are the 5 things that should guide me with my decisions and help me stay focused and aligned.

I want to be more intentional with my time and energy this year. This is why I want to take things slow. When I look back, I don't think there was ever a point in my life where I took things slow. Upon graduating college, I immediately applied to several law schools while looking for a job. When I entered law school, I started working a month after. Before I resigned from my first job, I was already looking for a new one. When I landed a new job, I had to act fast, pack my stuff, move to another city, and settle down within 3 weeks. I never had a proper break.

I can't say that I'm not grateful for all these opportunities that came my way because I am (and always will be) eternally grateful for them. But you know the anxiety you feel when you wake up late in the morning and you only have 20 minutes left to get ready before you have to leave for work or school so you have to take a 5 minute shower and skip breakfast just to get there on time? That's exactly how I've felt over the years. And it's exhausting.

Before, taking things slow meant slacking off to me. After all, they say that hustling can get you anywhere in life. I do still believe that however, I now understand the importance of taking a step back to just... breathe.

Last year, I dropped out of law school to free up my capacity because I wanted to prove my value at work. I also wanted to spend more time with my family and friends. I also wanted to go to new places and meet new people. I also wanted to always show up for the people that needed me. I also wanted to explore the possibility of finding someone to love. Basically, I wanted to be Everything, Everywhere All at Once -- a movie title to describe my 2023. But I bit more than I could chew. By the end of the year, I just felt exhausted.

I am stepping into 2024 with a fire lit under my ass again (in reference to my very first journal entry, of course).

But this time, the fire is gentle and kind -- but still penetrating.

[ae-diaries]

Officially Stepping into My New Era today!

Watching Taylor Swift's Eras tour multiple times online got me reflecting on my own life eras – as I too have experienced significant shifts over the past few years. So here's a trip down memory lane. Daming chika nito 🤣

One of my greatest dreams in life is to work as an OFW abroad, especially in Japan. This seed of dream began to take shape in 2013 when it was first planted in my heart by God. But, I knew there's a lot to improve, so for several years I chose to gain experience and dedicate my service in different companies and institutions to develop a well-rounded skill set. Over time, this seed grew within me, making me feel uncomfortable and unsettled.

They say that dreams don't work unless you do. So, in December 2020, I took a leap of faith and applied through my target agency. Upon meeting the qualifications, I made the life-altering decision to step out of my comfort zone and explore further. It was undeniably scary, but I knew that I'd regret it if I didn't give myself this chance. After all, why settle for less if I can be more? 🤭

Unbeknownst to many, the path toward pursuing my dream started with a messy era in 2021. I hit what felt like my own version of rock bottom.

Sh* happened. Quarter-life crisis, heartbreak, burning regrets, and pandemic woes.

Japan closed its borders due to Covid-19, leaving my application status stuck in limbo. I even tested positive for the virus during the surge, subjecting me to social stigma. I lost my balance. I wanted to shrink. Amid all that, a traumatic experience, bigger than these overshadowed all my personal battles.

The first quarter of 2022 was turbulent. My father's life hung in the balance for two agonizing months. I stepped up for my family, acting as my father's quad cane in the hospital, as any good child would. We felt like we were drowning, yet the prayers and support from those around us buoyed us to the surface.

During the season of waiting and setbacks, I felt I wasn't much fruitful. But hey, those moments taught me a big lesson: surrendering everything I couldn't control to God. And guess what happened next? Things started falling into place, leading me straight to better days.

2023. Just like Teytey being named 'Time Person of the Year', I'd say this was my year too! My breakthrough era. A dream that began a decade ago finally became reality— I'm now living and working in Japan beyond my wildest dreams.

Who says achieving this in your thirties isn't possible? I used to be that person tbh.

At my age, I never thought this would still be possible. Parang di ako makapaniwalang mangyayari pa ang lahat ng ito. A few months before my flight, I had this internal battle. I doubted so much if:

"Kaya ko pa ba?''

"Is it worth it?"

''Deserve ko ba talaga ito?"

"Paano kung yung saya ko of all the good things I'm receiving ay may kasunod na namang pagsubok?".

I'm a failure in so many things. Hindi naman ako magaling. Courageous at ambisyosa 😂 lang.

But time and time again, I've seen GOD WORKING IN MY LIFE (during high and lows). It's His grace that brought me here and sustains me.

Connecting the dots, I now understand why certain things were delayed —

To lean on God.

To humble me.

To honor my parents.

To focus on the present.

To spend more time with my niblings.

To further serve my school community.

To complete my thesis and graduate with my MA.

And to prepare me for the next chapter.

Just like plants growing after rain, my willpower has grown too. I've realized that this resilience is the true fruit of my journey.

Behind the scenes, I couldn't do this alone. I owe about 90% of being here to the incredible support from my family, besties, friends, colleagues, students, former teachers & professors, govt. folks, and my agency. 'Grateful' feels like an understatement.

And hey, huge thanks to Past Aemira for trusting the process and God's timing. We fought dragons together! And you never gave up! Proud of you, self!

So, here's to launching Aem(Era) version 3.4 🤣 this year, with a grateful heart.

Whatever 2024 brings, I entrust it all to you, Lord!

Thank you all for your warm greetings!

Feeling overwhelmed that I couldn't help but share my journey to Japan in this short video clip. It's something I'll look back on fondly.

#January2

[talaxyan]

hello from 2023

hiiiiiii

it's so funny to think that all the posts from this tumblr are all just for me in the future but I hope it's gonna be another good reflection to see what I was like in the past.

but let me give you a little update since the last time I was here ((THERE WERE A LOT!!!))

ok first of all. im unemployed now, I graduated college 4 months ago and still haven't been able to land a job- I'm on my last round of interview for this pharmaceuticals company tho and I REALLY HOPE I GET THE JOB BECAUSE IM DESPERATEEEE. if I don't get an offer soon my OPT might expires meaning it'll be harder for me to escape indo.

as much as i love being at home and spending most days with my nieces and having no worry at all, I miss doing something intelligent like doing all the academic weapon I was supposed to be doing. it was hard landing a job yall, I swear I've applied to at least 400+ job but still 0 offer. IM REALLY HOPING THIS PHARMA JOB WORKS OUT I REALLY WANNA GO BACKKKKKK I wanna live in city I can wander around please

anyway, on the fun part ((my nonexistant love life))

in 2022, i went for a semester abroad in LONDON AND IT WAS WILDDDDD like really good experience and I love london so much I wish to go back there again and visiting my london fam innit- it was surprising really good like i had a solid friendgroup in just a month of settling down (shout out to SHAIMA LOVE U SO MUCH GURL) i went travelling to edinburg and Stonehenge. it was a surreal experience.

oh and i was on dating apps while in London and I got the taste of love (a little bit). my first ever date was really good, i'd give it 7/10 I wasn't that attracted to this dude but he was smart and caring at least before he became annoying and called me a self-obsessed girl- like dude HOW CANT I BE OBSESSED OVER MYSELFF? anyway I didn't continue talking to him because I really thought I should give an ugly guy a chance just bc he seems nice personally but he really wasn't so I went to 7 more dates after that--- ND I GOT MY FIRST EVER KISS??? LIKE HELLO? this dude I kissed, we met on tinder and I went to his place the night I first saw him and I gave him a glockglock3000 it was crazy-- but after that night I learnt why people like dick- and he got a pretty one too and it tasted sweet?????? maybe from the lube he was using but we didn't do the full thing cuz I was kinda hesitant cuz I BARELY KNOW HIM OFC??? but yea I learnt some things but my experience with men in general wasn't really working out bc ALL I WANT IS LOVE and it seems like u cant really find that on dating app.

other than that, i cut off some people from my life. it was sad but I think its about time. this girl I really wanted to befriend with since freshman year, we ended became bestie and even lived together in the apartment, but I think it was really toxic tbh- it think the more I knew people, the more I feel like I withdrew myself form them.thats kinda scared me because I really wanted to accept people the way they are but it was really not good having her around- for some reason in social settings, everytime I spent time wth her, it just irritaes me more and that made me realize that friendship wasn't supposed to be like that, it shouldn't cost you your mental health to be living with your friend so yeah, after graduation, I never contacted her and she also never contact me either so it's mutual I think

my time at skidmore was overall fun, I went to typical college parties, got drunk and wasted but it was all really fun. i love my girl friends my bbygurl I love them so much and they made my time at skidmore 100000x so much better. i would be a lot more miserable if it wasn't because of them. there was rough patches along the way but we are good friends so I was able to let go everything and keep our friendship eventho now w graduated and harder to see each other but I really hope to meet them again<3 I love them thao kim connie rebecca and my isu babies<3

my plan now is hoping i land that job in Boston > lease an apartment > fly from jakarta and meet natan > relocate to Boston and get my stuff at Uhaul in Albany > starting working and getting the sense of really world > SAVE A LOT OF MONEY SO I CAN SPOIL MY LOVED ONES AND MYSELF

i think i can do it. delusion is the key and I quite frankly believe in myself. i really hope so I wish.

so yeah, thats mostly the update from me. hopefully in the next post I can give you a better news and more GOOD STORY FROM MY LOVE LIFE yea. ok goodbye for now and I see u later

[invisiblerambler]

I hate that I constantly have this whole running monologue about my potential being squandered because I grew up in a place that never nurtured my intelligence or academic potential both because my school and my parents didn't have the resources or the vocabulary to handle a student at my level. Which trickled into years of shitty academic experiences and being unchallenged by the work I was doing which snowballed into underachieving in high school. That in turn fed into my narrative of not being better than going to a state school so I applied to the one school that I had decided was acceptable and I knew I could get into. I traded less debt for a lesser pedigree. I was probably good enough to get in somewhere much more prestigious than where I went, but I was so convinced of my own medicority and terrified of debt so I settled. In the end, I don't think it really mattered considering I'm pretty sure my academic history means that I am not designed to thrive in a strict academic environment. It is so infinitely frustrating to feel as if I needed a more designer degree to be taken seriously and to be punished for making a choice that meant I graduated with enough debt to strike fear in my heart because this is America after all, but not so much that I can't conceive of how much money I will end up paying. I was good enough for a better school, academically, but financially the tradeoffs didn't feel worth it. Right now, truly none of it feels worth it and I won't pretend that I feel any warmth or gladness towards the last four years at the current moment. Yet, I still keep coming back to the thought that I could have made the bar lower for myself if I had been in a place that truly saw and nurtured me and pushed me towards what I deserved not just what I could afford. It's no coincidence my fascination with Claire and her educational pedigree. In her, I feel as if I see a version of myself that was given all the time and space to develop my intelligence. It at times felt so in my reach because of where my life started versus where it ended up. Considering what I want to do none of this really matters, but just the confidence in myself and my intelligence and even just less apathy about school from being in a place that pushes someone. I spent much of my bachelor's degree fighting apathy. I saw through some of what I was being taught and I didn't feel engaged by class discussions and shut down by professors who didn't want to engage with me where I was at. I owe a lot of what I learned to a few very good professors who refused to let me just get by because I could. One professor in particular forced me to sit up and pay attention because they were expecting something from me in a way that made me engaged. I owe them so much because of the way they quietly complimented me and my talents and abilities while doing it in a way that didn't shut down my brain in the way compliments often do. I can never fully express all the ways in which their encouragement and advice was instrumental for me. I am very grateful for everything they did for me truly. They are someone I can one day hopefully make proud with what I accomplish. Anyway I'll probably delete this because I have this conversation with myself all the time and never come to any conclusions, but I do think about this and issues surrounding this a lot.

I wrote this in 2020, during a horrible period of my life and three years later I have proved basically everything about this right or wrong depending on how you look at it. Regardless, I made that professor proud, and more importantly I made myself proud.

[chillwarbler]

After moving states away for a job I was really excited for, I ended up meeting someone I truly believe I could settle down with. Everything was going great: we communicated, we gave each other affection we wanted, we enjoyed life together.

Flash forward 6 months. My job is not so great. The things I was promised are not true and I am left feeling unimportant. I witness my boss screaming and swearing at a fellow employee (current boyfriend), for what was a minor mistake. I don't feel comfortable at work anymore. Plus the winters are long and dark. I became pessimistic, distrusting, and overall mentally and emotionally unhealthy. The worst part is that I become distrusting of my partner and began almost sort of self sabotaging, doubting his intentions and his love. I loathe that I did this.

In the midst of this, I was suggested a job opening a few states away that sounded promising with a reputable supervisor who has a good track record. I talked with my boyfriend and he supported me fully (because duh he loves me, and knows this job was killing me). I apply and interview, while in the meantime I speak with my current boss about addressing my issues with him and the department/office in hopes something would change. He, of course, denies or lists excuses for why there are these issues. And here is one place of many where I fucked up.

Because instead of speaking with other faculty, I hid my emotions and bottled it up. I was offered the new job and accepted it. Unbeknownst to my knowledge, another potential supervisor at my current workplace would have immediately hired me. But I've only found out now, two weeks before I start this new job. Before I move, before I uproot my life yet again, and before I start a LDR with my boyfriend.

Second placed I fucked up. I thought my boyfriend and I had really talked through this, but we hadn't. He's now really nervous we're going to grow apart in the next two years (he has a graduate program that requires two more years) and it just won't be the same between us once we move to the same city again. He's worried he'll become jaded without me there because of our terrible boss, and that will change him for the worse and I won't love him anymore. I just wish we had talked more because I would have sought out other options instead. I can't bare to see him so worried and I don't know how to console him. I've done long distance before so I know how it goes, but he hasn't so it's all new to him.

I feel like I've already committed too much to this new job and I also deep down hope it is better for me. If a job can affect my mental health so much that it affects my relationships maybe it is for the best? I just don't know. There are so many unknowns and he has so many what ifs. I'm just stuck and I don't want our relationship to go forward in fear. I just don't know how to fix it.

[moonieshinesims]

Generation One - Chapter Ten

River continues to deal with her emotional trauma, all while preparing for graduation with her friends.

Things would go smoothly for a while, then River would feel the fear crashing down on her again. Sometimes it came on gradually, and could be prepared for, but other times it hit her like a brick wall.

At those times, she had to hide fast, so people wouldn't see her falling apart.

She got caught one day in the bathroom during lunch sobbing, and the school called her family, concerned and confused.

Her mom tried talking to her about her feelings. But River never really wanted to divulge much to her. She knew she cared about her, but Bee was never really there for her emotionally prior to the kidnapping.

It was easier to talk to Elanor about her feelings. Elanor didn't know her really, so it was okay to spill all the weird thoughts and emotions she was having.

It was still wild to her that Rohan had nothing to do with Joe's schemes. As close as the two of them were, she wasn't sure if she believed it. Rohan's family had money though, so he could get away with anything.

She was scared that he, or someone else that worked closely with Joe would come after her again. And of course, he did it to help her, but what if the people Ichiban worked with came to make her pay back the debt of being saved!

She couldn't even mention him. She cared about him a lot and didn't want to drag his name through the mud.

These were things she didn't even want to talk to her friends about, let alone her mom. So it was hard.

River had one last set of exams before she was given the OK to graduate. She studied a lot, and felt rather confident about her results.

After class she went to the convenience store across the road and got a snack.

Once she sat down, her phone rang. It was Havarti.

"Yeah! Cassandra will meet us there too. We have to talk about some things!"

She didn't realize that upon answering her phone, she sat her pizza roll down on the dirty table.

After her snack, she took the bus to the library. Havarti was waiting for her outside.

River hadn't realized it, but Cassandra was apparently just as neurotic about this college thing as Havarti was.

"Housing? Majors? I just know we're going to Foxbury, I don't even know what they offer..."

"How are you going to go there and not know anything about it?" Cassandra frowned.

"I promised Havarti I'd go with her! I didn't care what they taught."

"A true friend indeed." Havarti nodded, "But out of the best choices there's biology, computer science, economics, physics, psychology, and villainy!"

"Villainy?" River's ears perked up.

"Yeah. Villainy."

"Of course I am. Look guys, there's nothing else really important to me in life other than you guys and Ichiban. And I'm already gonna be living with y'all, so how else can I get closer to him? Through crime. Duh."

Havarti and Cassandra exchanged looks.

"Well, at least your dad's not making you go into computer science so you can keep his tech conglomerate alive!"

"I can't believe you're gonna go through with that." Cassandra sighed.

"I don't know, something you actually enjoy?"

"What about you Cassandra?"

She blushed. "I'm thinking physics."

"Oh, so the family tradition of a science career, huh? So much for doing what you actually enjoy."

The three of them sighed.

"Stop being so down. Weren't you stoked about graduation? Are either of you throwing any killer parties?"

Havarti and River slowly turned their heads to Cassandra.

"You do have the biggest house."

"Dammit. Fine! I'll throw a party!"

With that settled, the girls had their plans for college set. Now onto actually applying.

"Wait..." Cassandra called out to the others as they got up from the table, walking away and leaving Cassandra behind.

"We didn't even talk about housing!"