#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

[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

[thewafflekingdom]

Keeping Touch - HinaYachi

Part of her was afraid she would lose touch with the boys after graduation, just as she had lost touch with some of her upperclassmen. And it was only exacerbated when it came to light that none of them would be going to the same university, much less near the same cities.

She messaged them often during the summer break, usually in the hopes of setting up a hangout with them, and she found herself gently rejected each time.

Kageyama had much to prepare for, so she wasn't surprised there.

But Hinata?

“I'm sorry, Yachi-san,” he murmured softly over the phone – his voice wobbly and sincere. “I can't right now.”

It wasn't as if she didn't have a lot to do, either. Her university of choice would be a bit of a drive from home, so she had a lot to think about in terms of housing. Join the dorm waitlist or tough out the commute? If she got into the dorms, she would need to think about bedding, what clothing she'd take with her, and also maybe figure out if she had any pet peeves about anything. She'd heard much about nightmare roommates.

But there was more than that.

Her major? Finding a job on campus or nearby to pay for food? Her mom wouldn't cover everything.

But through all that, she felt her heart twist and tug at the thought of not getting to say a proper goodbye to either of them. She lied in bed staring at the ceiling at the end of the day, tears welling in her eyes, and wondered if they could really be that busy.

And then of course she began wondering if maybe she had imagined them being a lot closer than they were.

Yachi devolved into typing out messages to the boys – long, emotional, even vengeful messages – and then slowly deleting them before she could work up the courage to send them.

It's okay, she wants to tell them. We don't have to see each other right now.

I just miss you.

She felt herself sob a little, so she had to put away her phone before she couldn't take it anymore.

.x.

It was the week before she was supposed to leave, finally deciding to move forward with the dorms – after all, staying at home would only further twist the knife – when she finally received the message she had been waiting for.

Do you have time today?

Her heart felt like it was going to burst. She had to quickly remind herself that she should be angry. There was absolutely no reason why this message should be making her as happy as it was.

You blow me off for weeks , she felt like responding, and all of a sudden you want to meet up??

No. There was no reason to be scornful. Hinata was doing just a touch better than Kageyama was at this point, after all.

They agreed to meet at the park. Maybe grab a bite to eat from there.

Yachi had packed her things already, so all she had left were her dressiest dresses. It had been weeks after all. Maybe getting dolled up for once wouldn't be a terrible idea. It wouldn't make any difference to Hinata.

She showered, applied her favorite perfume, and sat down to smear some makeup on. It took a few several tries before she wiped everything off and settled on curling her lashes, applying mascara, and dabbing her lips in a pink gloss.

“Okay,” she said. “Stop it. You're extremely overdressed.”

The dress was one she had considered for her graduation. She'd worn it out on family dinners before. It was a starchy, sunny yellow fabric with bows on the shoulders. The skirt fell to her knees, and the waist was cinched modestly with a thin belt. On the way out, she decided to add a white cardigan to hide her shoulders.

For some reason, that felt like a step too far, allowing him to see just that much more skin.

The whole way there – walk, subway ride, walk some more – she reined in her heart rate and steadied her breathing. Just last month, seeing Hinata would never have elicited such a reaction from her. It wasn't as if he had changed since then.

“Seriously,” she mumbled to herself as she stepped out of the station and into the warm glow of sunset. “Relax.”

At last the park came into view. She checked her phone as she waited at the stoplight, but couldn't yet ascertain if he'd made it or not. Would he already be waiting for her at some park bench?

Hinata lived on the other side of town. The outskirts, really, where there were more houses than shops. She'd always wondered what his house looked like, and if it was as warm as he was.

Or as loud.

The park was fully in use. Children ran and played, dogs were walked, and a group of people in jumpsuits stretched and danced in a clearing. Yachi wandered around, clutching her phone, and glanced at every single person she passed.

“Yachi-san,” she heard him murmur from behind her.

She whirled around, nearly dropping her phone in the process.

Hinata stood some paces away, hands stuffed into the pockets of a red hoodie. He gave a half smile, and she felt her heart squeeze again.

Of course he didn't look any different than usual. He wore a pair of black joggers, his old, scuffed up sneakers, and his hair had the exact same cowlick it always had. He reached up now to rub at that cowlick anxiously, and she became aware that she was staring now.

“Hinata-kun,” she said, smiling. “How have you been?”

“Good,” he said, pocketing his hand again. “More or less.”

More or less?

“Wanna walk?” he asked, before she could say anything in response.

“Oh, sure!”

He led them down the sidewalk, in the direction she'd been heading before. “How have you been?” he asked, while she tucked her phone back into her bag.

“Busy, busy,” she said, wiping her hands dry of her sweat. “My semester starts soon so I'm getting ready to move.”

“Move?”

“I'm gonna dorm there,” she explained, somewhat surprised she hadn't mentioned it to him before. Though it could have been because she was angry with him. “It's just too far of a commute, you know?”

“Makes sense,” he said thoughtfully. After a moment of awkward silence, he asked, “Won't you be homesick?”

“Of course I will,” she said with a shrug. “But you have to do what you have to do, right?”

He grew quiet at that.

After a couple of slow laps around the park, he finally suggested grabbing lunch at a nearby sandwich shop.

Yachi mulled over the options as they stood in line – deciding and then re-deciding the closer they got to the front – and he remained pensive beside her. “What are you getting?” she asked, attempting to get a better feel of her appetite.

Or maybe just trying to settle the anxiety his silence was causing her.

“Uh, Italian,” he said absently, checking his phone.

She fidgeted with her sleeve nervously. “...Maybe I'll get the same.”

“It sounds good.”

Yachi then spent the remainder of their time in line agonizing over that. Why was his detachment making her feel as if she was swallowing sand? And why was he acting like this? As if he really, truly, wanted to be anywhere but here?

He placed his order, then turned to her and said, “I'll get yours, too. You wanted the same thing?”

“Oh,” she croaked, surprised. “Oh, it's okay, Hina—”

“No, it's okay. I got it.”

“Um,” she mumbled, clearing her throat. “Yeah. Same as you.”

“Something to drink?”

“Just water. Thank you.”

He handed her the water cup and led her to the soda fountain. Then he proceeded to wait for her to fill her cup before leading her over to a clear booth next to a window. “Wanna sit here?”

“O – Okay.”

They sat across one another, and he sipped and sipped at his water until he had to get back up to refill it. By that point, their order was being called, so he collected their sandwiches on the way back.

He placed the tray between them and took his seat again.

She didn't unwrap her sandwich until he did. At this point, she found she didn't have much of an appetite.

“So...what have you been up to?” she asked at last, watching him scarf down his food as if he hadn't eaten all day. “Aside from preparing for university.”

He set his cup down and examined it for a second, as if he hadn't heard her. Just when she thought he wasn't going to answer her, he said, “I've been doing some thinking about my future. And researching.”

She folded back the wrapper of her sandwich thoughtfully. “Researching?”

He swallowed dryly, not looking at her. “I've... I think I know now that I want to do volleyball for the rest of my life. Or...at least that I wanna do it for as long as I can. So I don't know if wasting any more time at school is really gonna do me any good.”

“Wasting?” Yachi choked out.

“I know,” he mumbled, visibly ashamed. “It's not actually a waste, and I really should continue. But... But what good will it do? It's not as if spending all my time in a classroom or in libraries studying is gonna help me improve.”

“Hinata-kun...” she began, and he held up a hand.

“I've already decided. I'm going to join a team, and I'm going to improve.”

Yachi grew quiet, and after a few minutes, Hinata continued eating. At a much more reasonable pace.

She did the same.

.x.

“So, if you've already decided,” Yachi said as they walked, cradling her wrapped half sandwich in the crook of her arm, “have you also decided where you're going?”

Hinata had stuffed his hands back in his pockets, and he took a few minutes to respond. It wasn't until they were standing at some empty corner, where the light had not yet turned, that he said, “I'm going to Brazil, Yachi-san.”

All the air left her lungs. “What ?”

He swallowed visibly. His eyes tightened. “I'm sorry I'm telling you now.”

Yachi thought about these past few weeks. These past couple of months. The lead up to their graduation, all those promises to stay in contact, and then the radio silence. She had half-expected it from Kageyama, who had never seemed exceptionally attached to anyone except Hinata, but not Hinata. And she thought about that, too. The days she spent staring at her phone, and how his one-word responses had cut away at her like knives, and how she kept making excuses for him. He had to be busy prepping for school. He had to be just as busy as she was.

All this time. All this time missing him, and practicing restraint, reminding herself that he had a whole future to prepare for and that he would make time enough soon.

And of course, even if he went to school in a different town, they would see each other. Just like she saw all the rest of them. Just like how she sometimes met up with Tanaka, or Shimuzu, or –

“How long have you known this, Hinata-kun?” she mumbled.

He had been moving to cross the street, but when she stayed where she was, he turned to her. His eyes widened a little, and then he couldn't look at her.

“Hinata,” she said. “Have you known this whole time?”

Some questions shouldn't be asked, she realized now. Some questions didn't need an answer.

They just hurt too much.

“Sort of.”

Yachi squeezed her eyes shut, and with it came tears. Ugly, unreasonable tears. She went to cover her face, but the sandwich was there, and before she could throw it in frustration, Hinata was there also.

“Yachi-san,” he whispered softly, hands on her shoulders.

He wasn't so much bigger than her, but he bowed into her space to catch her eyes and it felt like too much. She turned her head away, clutching at the stupid sandwich and seeking some way out of all this. Some way home, where she can curl up into herself and wait for next Sunday to come. So she can leave. So she can get started on her new life and never think about this person again.

She could do it. She could really do it.

“Yachi-san,” he said again, and this time his hands fit themselves to her face, steering her back to him so that she'd look him in the eye. “I meant that I'd been thinking about not going to college for a while, but Brazil...this was a spur of the moment – ”

“Then why did you – why did you blow me off this whole time?” she squeaked. She felt her face flush at the petulant sound of her own voice, and she tried again to turn away from him.

He was, of course, much stronger than he looked. He didn't allow an inch. “I... I thought it would be best.”

“Best?” she asked. “ Best? For who?”

He swallowed again. “For you, Yachi-san.”

Her hands curled around his wrists, staring, bewildered, at him. It wasn't until his lashes fluttered, second-thinking himself, that it dawned on her. She twisted out of his grasp. “Were you not going to tell me?” she asked, stepping back. “Were you – Were you just going to ship off to Brazil and never tell me?”

“I was going to tell you,” he protested, and then ducked to pick up the sandwich from the ground, where she'd apparently dropped it. “I – I swear. I just. I didn't want to distract you. You have so much ahead of you and you worked so hard on me and Kageyama and we – we – we just didn't end up... We weren't...”

He fell silent, again. She waited a second, before reaching for the sandwich.

He didn't let it go.

“I didn't want you to worry yourself over me. You needed to focus on getting ready for school.”

Yachi sniffled. She understood what he was trying to say. If she had known any sooner, she wouldn't have been able to focus.

Would she have spent all of her time trying to convince him not to go? For what? For him to stay in Japan, miserable at some school he never wanted to attend, just so that she could see him sometimes?

Or would she have spent all her time with him, trying to make up for the time they were about to lose?

It no longer mattered. This Sunday, she would be moving to a whole other city, and her semester would promptly begin the following week. And Hinata would be leaving the country entirely.

When would they have seen each other next, anyway?

Yachi found herself stepping into him, weaving her arms underneath his. Hinata pulled her even closer, without hesitation.

They've hugged before, of course. But this felt different somehow.

She squeezed him, and he squeezed her right back, even tighter. Her face tucked into his shoulder, and she became aware for the first time of the way he smelled. All the times before, post matches or post training, he smelled sweaty and boyish and hot. But now he smelled like soap, and the onions from their sandwiches, and the evening sun.

A small sob left her, suddenly realizing that there was a lot about Hinata she didn't know. It was the sorts of things you learned with time, with intimacy. What brand was his soap? Was it his favorite? Did he wake up early today for his usual jog? Would he keep doing so in Brazil?

And how was he going to move to Brazil and not know a word of Portuguese?

For one wild, irrational moment, Yachi suddenly wished she knew how to speak Portuguese, just so that she could teach him how to speak it. Just one last thing to teach him, before he left for good.

“How long will you be gone?” she mumbled, and squeezed her eyes shut when he rubbed a hand gently across her upper back.

“A while,” he murmured.

“Will you write me?” she asked meekly.

He gave a small laugh as he pulled away to look at her. It was then she remembered that they were out in public, and she was grateful that for some reason, nobody else wanted to be on this corner.

His hands landed back onto her shoulders.

“Wouldn't it be faster to just send an email?” he asked, smiling. “Letters are outdated.”

“Letters are cool,” she protested. “Something to look forward to.”

“They take so much time.”

“Because you have to think them through,” she said softly. “You can't waste a single line. You can't redo them once they’re written.”

“You can redo them tons of times,” he shook his head. “Am I hearing you right? You want them handwritten, too?”

“Of course I do. That way you won't forget everything I've taught you. You're going to be learning a whole different language, after all.”

He hung his head. “Right.”

“You'll write me?”

“I'll write. But also, I'll call. It'll be faster.”

“And expensive.”

“Oh... Right.”

“I'll miss you,” she said.

“I'll miss you, too,” he replied, before pulling her into another hug.

.x.

The first letter came a month later, and then another the month after that.

Hinata messaged often, and called whenever he had the chance. But he continued to write as promised, even going as far as attaching photo printouts. She kept them in a shoe box. The one time she decided to pin up a photo of him, her roommate asked, “Your boyfriend?”

“My best friend,” she corrected.

It gets lonely out here, he wrote at first. And the climate is so different. But the people are nice, and the beaches are beautiful.

She pinned the photo he took of it for her.

I'm glad I did this. And I'm glad you're doing good, too.

“You're more evocative in your letters than over the phone,” she commented one day.

“What's that mean? ” he asked, his voice cracking a little. After a pause he said, “Oh, okay. Okay. Maybe? ”

“You looked it up?”

“ I...had to. ”

Hinata talked about all the new people he was meeting, all the new food he was trying, and of course how much he loved volleyball. He lit up when he talked about it, or at least she imagined he did. Over the phone, it was all about the feeling of playing. The rush he got from it, even now, even months after high school. But in his letters, he went into depth about the things he was learning. New tactics, re-evaluating the game play, and everything in between.

“ Also Oikawa was here? From Aoba Josai, remember him? ”

“Of course I remember him. Small world. What was he doing there?”

“Hanging out, I guess.”

“Uh-huh. That follows.”

“Follows what? ”

.x.

Naturally things petered out somewhere around the one-year mark. Yachi was immersed in her courses, somewhere on the brink of re-deciding her future once again, and when break rolled around, in the spring, she thought about asking him: “So...when are you coming back, again?”

She assumed it would be too expensive for him to travel back just for a few weeks, so she decided against asking at all.

“Any other familiar faces lately?” she asked him, when their conversation lulled into silence.

“Surprisingly, no,” he said, which wasn't surprising at all. “Have you seen anyone lately? ”

“From Karasuno?” she asked needlessly. “Tanaka is really good about keeping touch for some reason. He visited a couple of weeks ago.”

“ Ah, I miss Ryuu... ”

She smiled. “He misses you, too.”

“Noya?”

“He calls. So does Yamaguchi. And Shimizu, I saw her recently, too.”

“Kageyama ?”

She tapped her fingers against her knee anxiously. “No. I haven't seen him...in a while.”

“Jerk.”

She gave a shaky smile. “It's okay. He's really busy. He checks in sometimes.”

Hinata went quiet for a few moments, and she could hear the sounds of dishes being washed. The good thing was that the time zones weren't so different. Hinata was either preparing dinner, or cleaning up after dinner.

“Are you busy? I can let you – ”

“ No, I'm... Well, I wanted to tell you so that we don't run into the same problem as before ,” he said, shutting off the water. “ I'm planning on staying another year. Then I wanna... Then I'll come back. ”

Her breath hitched.

Another year.

“That... That's good. I know you're having a lot of fun.”

“It's more than that,” he protested. “I'm learning a lot, Yachi-san. I've grown so much. I think it'd be really good for me.”

She nodded, eyes wet, but she wiped them away and cleared her throat. “I think so, too, Hinata-kun. You have to do what's best for you.”

“Are you excited for another year?” he asked, maybe to change the subject.

.x.

Between classwork and projects and part-time work, she didn't really have time to dwell on much else. The weekly phone calls turned to every other week, and the letters came few and far between.

But they came. Less often, and in sporadic lengths, with random items included, but they came all the same. Sometimes photos, sometimes recipes he'd become fond of. It depended on how much time he had at any given moment.

Her birthday rolled around, and he called as he always did, but that day she also received a package. Which explained why he nervously said, “I hope it got there on time...”

In retrospect, it was pretty obvious what he meant.

She sliced the package open, which was wrapped in several layers of tape and postage, and sat on the floor of her dorm room carefully bunching up and setting aside the trash she was accumulating in the process. Inside was a sort of self-care package. Or it had to be. She couldn't make much sense of any of it.

There were several objects stuffed inside, with some half-attempt at organization.

Topping the stack were several packets of what looked like candy. She couldn't read any of the writing, so she spent some time typing in the brand names into her phone to translate to herself. Chocolate, mostly, but also gummies of some sort. Guava flavored, tamarind, strawberry. She hesitated, but unwrapped one to taste.

Her face scrunched. Very sour. Maybe an acquired taste.

She set it aside for later.

Next it appeared he sent her some perfume samples. Maybe to get past customs. She took a little time sniffing and sampling them.

Some colorful, scented candles. Some fluffy, pink slippers. A couple of cute spiral notebooks with matching pens. And at the bottom, folded carefully, was a beautiful knitted quilt. It was colorful, and exceptionally made. Maybe by hand?

She stood to unfold it to its full size, admiring it, then brought it closer to feel the fabric against her cheek.

With a start, she realized it smelled just like his soap. The very one she noticed when they hugged.

Before she could help it, she buried her face into the quilt and breathed in.

Seven more months, and he'd be home for good. Or at least for a while.

Hinata spoke about his future in terms of immediacy . He talked about coming back, sure, and all the things he'd do once he's here. But what about after that? What about the year after next? And the year after that ?

She folded the blanket across the foot of her bed with a sigh.

I just got it , she messaged him. Thank you. I love everything.

His answer was immediate: Ahh that's good! I was worried it wouldn't arrive on time!

She tucked everything away, and that night she slept under the quilt, wondering if he'd used it, too.

.x.

These last few months, it finally occurred to her that she'd been moving through her required courses with the same conviction one would their nightly skincare routine.

She had to do it, but she didn't really want to.

As of late she'd been working part-time at her mother's company, and with time she fell into a routine she was beginning to really like. She had asked her mother before how she had chosen this career path. Her mother was still so young, and was younger still when she had decided this was what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.

“I picked and I chose,” her mother said simply.

It can't be that easy. How could it be that easy?

But maybe it really was. Maybe she'd been overthinking it this whole time.

Sure, she had tons of friends that had made it these past couple of years and realized they had no idea what they were doing, so they restarted or decided to take a break or had meltdowns in the middle of the library and then decided they were overthinking it, too. And sure, she might have had a few connections to career paths that they didn't, and she tried not to overthink this, but sometimes this wasn't the blessing that it appeared to be. Sometimes people ended up in places they didn't want to be, because they wanted to make their parents happy –

All this to say, Yachi realized that she was happy going into work right now. And this might not be a forever thing, but what was?

“Sometimes you pick and you choose wrong,” her mother told her. “You're only nineteen, Hitoka, dear. You have time. It'll be okay.”

Yeah.

She had time.

.x.

Hinata greeted her with a hug. Somehow even tighter than the one he'd said goodbye with.

He squeezed her into him, and she could only squeeze back.

“ Hinata-kun ,” she mumbled, so softly it was almost a breath. Her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, and he smelled so different. And he was just a little taller than the last time she saw him. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she sniffled, tucking herself against his shoulder.

“Thanks for making time for me,” he said, rubbing at her back.

“Are you kidding?” she asked, as they pulled away from one another.

Hinata had arrived the other day. She was surprised he hadn't decided to spend more time with his family. But of course, he wasn't planning on going anywhere anytime soon.

He assured as much now, taking her hands and squeezing them gently.

“You've basically been my paypal this entire time, you know?”

“It's pen pal, Hinata-kun,” she laughed.

His face reddened. “Oh.”

“Are you hungry?” she asked, squeezing his hands to regain his attention.

“I'm always hungry.”

There was a good spot within walking distance. She'd met him at the subway station, carrying a little gift bag with all of his favorite snacks.

“Oh, I could kiss you right now,” he'd said to her, as he rifled through the contents of the bag.

She blushed happily. “The snacks you sent me were pretty good.”

“Nothing compares to these bad boys,” he said, popping open some bag eagerly.

The waitress greeted them with a brilliant smile. “Just two tonight?” she asked as the door swung shut behind them.

“Yup,” he chirped.

She led them to a cozy booth. “Take your time, alright?”

“So what's the plan now?” she asked him, scanning the menu.

“I'm thinking combo number two,” he murmured, holding the menu up to his face. “Seems like the best bang for your buck.”

She laughed again. “No, I meant for your future.”

He rubbed his forehead, laughing. “I must still have jet lag.”

“No, to be fair, I keep accidentally not giving you context.” She looked at her own menu. “Combo number two sounds good to me, too.”

The waitress returned to take their orders, beaming at them as she made small talk. “Are we out on a date of some kind?”

“Sort of,” Hinata replied, without seeming to think about it.

The waitress clapped her hands. “ Wonderful . You two make such a cute pair. Would you like to start with an appetizer?”

Yachi stared at Hinata, bewildered.

“Do you like wings, Yachi-san?” he asked, still looking at the menu. Unbothered. Maybe even unaware.

She stuttered, struggling to ignore the weird feeling starting up in her middle all of a sudden. “Um – yeah – I. I'll eat wings.”

“Buffalo?”

“S – Sure...”

“Excellent,” the waitress smiled, glancing between them with an expression that made Yachi's heart rate pick up. “Be right back.”

“ Hinata! ” she hissed at him, as he gulped down the glass of water the waitress had placed before him.

“What?” he asked, wiping his mouth with his wrist.

“You just told her we're on a date!”

“Did I?” He took up the glass again to drink some more. “I mean, a hang out is kind of like a date. But between friends.”

“That's not accurate at all! A date is a date.”

“I mean, I guess it's dependent on what you mean.”

“A date is...” she trailed off anxiously. “Like, a nice dinner and a movie. Holding hands and stuff.”

“Sometimes we hold hands.”

“When you're leading me around places, yeah,” she laughed, rolling her eyes.

“Same difference, no?”

“Absolutely not.”

The waitress placed the basket of wings between them. “Need a refill there?”

“Thank you.” He leaned back to let her pour from the pitcher. It wasn't until the waitress disappeared again that he said, “I guess I wasn't really paying attention. But it doesn't matter if she thinks that, right? Two people out to dinner, and you look pretty. And I'm wearing a new jacket.”

She looked down at herself. She was wearing a cozy knitted long-sleeve and a pair of comfy jeans.

Pretty?

He twisted to look behind him. More customers were beginning to trickle in, filling the space with noise.

“It's a popular spot,” Yachi said, when he straightened.

He took a wing. “Do you come here a lot?”

“No,” she admitted, folding her arms on the table. “I... I've been here a couple of times. The first time I actually was on a date.”

He started, almost dropping the wing. “Really?”

“Once. The first and only...so far.”

“Well, this is the second,” he said plainly, looking rather serious.

“Uh-huh,” she said, smiling again. “Right. Well, on this date, he ordered wings, too.”

He placed the half-eaten wing back into the basket. “I'll send these back.”

“No, you won't,” she scoffed, still smiling.

He lifted his hand, whose fingers were still covered in buffalo sauce, and opened his mouth to call the waitress over.

Yachi stole forward and grabbed at his hand. “Hinata-kun! Stop that!”

“When did this date happen?” he asked, grinning now. “Where did you meet the guy?”

“He was a mutual friend. Or a friend of a friend. They set us up because we were in the same major, and he happened to be about the same age, I guess. He was nice,” she sighed. “This was... I don't know, a little over a year ago?”

“You never told me?” he asked, folding his arms. He almost looked hurt.

“It wasn't worth telling,” she said. “He brought me here, and the food was good. But he just wasn't...it. We had nothing in common aside from the courses we were taking and maybe a couple of shows we liked. He talked over me. He definitely thought he was smarter than me...”

“Smarter than you? ” His chin landed in his palm, staring openly now. “No one's smarter than you, Yachi-san.”

“I don't know about that...”

“Here we go!” The waitress appeared, balancing their orders on a tray. “Hope you're hungry!”

Hinata dug in immediately, almost as soon as the plate was in front of him. His appetite had always been impressive. She wondered suddenly if he'd gone for a jog this morning.

She chewed mechanically, staring down at her plate.

It didn't take very long before he asked, “You okay?”

“I'm okay,” she said, tapping the ends of her chopsticks against the plate. “Well. Actually, I wanted to ask you something... I've been wanting to ask for a very long time. Ever since you left.”

“What?”

“How did you know that you wanted to go to Brazil?” She leaned forward, and so did he. Watching her with rapt attention. “That's such a huge step. You left everything and everyone behind on a feeling, right? That this would be the right move for you?”

“More or less...” he murmured, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“It was...on a whim, right?”

Hinata shrugged, deciding if that was the right word. “I guess you can say that. I did a little research leading up to graduation. And I asked some of the older guys. You know, like, what they would have done if they were in my shoes. It led me to Brazil, and I didn't have anything to lose.”

“But that was it?”

“I guess it's hard to explain,” he muttered, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yachi – you. You're so smart, and so talented. And driven, and organized. You have so much going for you, and your hobbies aren't...”

“All-consuming?” she filled in.

“Yeah. They don't consume you.”

She smiled.

“I – I needed to do this, Yachi-san. I had no choice. I had to get better. I had to. It would have killed me if I hadn't even tried.”

Yachi thought maybe she wouldn't understand. She had hobbies, of course.

None she would leave the country for, though.

“Weren't you scared?” she asked.

“Yeah, I was pretty scared,” he said. “But that's usually my sign that it's a good idea, you know?”

“Oh, Hinata-kun,” she said, barely stifling her laughter. “That's so bad.”

He laughed into his bite of food. “Yeah, probably.”

.x.

He carried her leftovers on the way back to the station, and as he did, he joked, “Do you have time for a movie? We can make it a proper date.”

“I definitely do not,” she said. “But neither do you. You look tired.”

“I'm never tired.”

He probably wasn't lying.

“Maybe next time,” she sighed. 

Because there would be a next time. He promised he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon and Hinata, she’s learned, always kept his promises.

“I’ll hold you to it.”

.x.

Note: Also posted on A03, here's link.

[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.

[nikonyako]

New Year new Niko! (art by intern_bomb on twt)

Taps microphone... HELLO am I doing this Tumblr thing right?

In the new year one of the activities I want to start is blogging! I think it could be an incredible way to document my thoughts and also reflect on how I am feeling. This is going to be for MYSELF. If you want to read it, or ask questions- go right ahead! But what I post here is for me and not to impress anyone else.

But besides that, first thing's first-

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

2022 was an incredible year in so many ways. Incredible doesn't have to mean good necessarily, either. Everyone says a year can change their life but for me especially, my whole life has been turned upside-down. Below is some of the major points of my year

-I graduated University with a Bachelor of Arts in May -I worked 3 part time jobs (if you count content creation) -We adopted our cute puppy, Antonio! -Spent over a month visiting my grandfather in the hospital while taking care of my grandma who undergoing chemo for breast cancer

The fact I was able to celebrate the holidays with my grandparents this year is a complete miracle, and I am so grateful for it. The end of 2022 felt somewhat normal compared to earlier this fall.

Nobody talks about the existential crisis you have after graduating university. Since the age of three, I have been in the routine of going to school. I wake up, go to class, learn, do homework and clubs, rinse and repeat.

For the first time in my life that isn't Summer vacation, that routine is broken, and as someone who actually enjoyed going to school, I heartbreakingly miss it! I was absolutely the band nerd in school, so I spent so much time in high school and uni taking part in marching band, orchestras, and other clubs. But nobody talks about how difficult it is to continue your hobbies outside of a school setting! It isn't like any company I work for will have a club band I can play in and I am afraid to join any community ensemble because I am not sure where I am going to settle down yet!

AND DON'T GET ME STARTED ON FRIENDSHIPS It was so easy to see people at school; be with your friends. Your life and my life were on the same path therefore that was 90% of the social activity I needed. Now when I want to meet high school friends, it is an effort to actually plan and execute meetups, work with work schedules, etc. And don't get me started about college friends, where not a SINGLE ONE lives in the same state as me.

And despite all this free time since I wasn't fortunate enough to graduate with a full time job, I found it really difficult to do things without a schedule. I spent a lot of time alone in my room, with difficulty finding motivation to apply to dozens of full time positions, just to get rejected or not be selected after a few interviews. My mom always told me it wasn't what you know, but who you know. And very much to my dismay (because how could my mom be right??!?) she was very much correct. I networked with someone during one of my jobs and what would you know! I have a full time position starting this month. I am so nervous but also really optimistic and excited to get back into the schedule, make money, and blossom a career. Life never goes the way you expect it to, so the same can go for your career path as well! I still plan on staying connected with the part time jobs I have now, and of course my streaming isn't going anywhere.

SO LET'S TALK ABOUT STREAMING

At the start of 2022, I made a video outlining my goals for the year and what I accomplished so far. Unfortunately my goals for the year weren't met quite to what I hoped it would be, but progress is still progress and the main point of streaming is to have fun and share my passions, so I am still very happy!

In December of 2022, I also passed my 2 year anniversary of streaming! I am so grateful for the nearly 1.7k of you who follow my twitch! So many people have come and gone but I am so grateful for everyone who has taken the time, even if just for a second, to check me out. As the Beatles say, "in my life, I've loved them all~"

But the term streamer has also not sat right with me recently. SO... I need to fix that! I want to take content beyond streaming this year and become a *cue sparkles* CONTENT CREATOR! Which means... -I will make edited videos on YT and TikTok -More blogs like this and content where I can express myself in a different medium -More discord events and community interaction

I also really want to spend my 2023 making new friendships and strengthening the friendships I already have, and network and collab more! Especially in the second half of 2022, I have admittedly felt a bit lonely and isolated (though I am MEGA grateful for the friends who I do talk with and you know who you are). But I miss the amount of people I knew and saw in early 2021, when my streaming journey was just starting.

2023 is the year of..

-NETWORKING -Expressing myself in different ways -Challenging myself to step out of my comfort zone -Doing what makes ME happy That's my goals and my outlook on the future. To my future self- if you feel sad, or lost, or lonely.. take a break! Reach out to someone! Try something in a new way! Don't trap yourself in an imaginary box that you made, and don't be afraid to step out of that shell you locked yourself in once and for all. Take a deep breath and think to yourself- "Is this something that will be impacting my life in a month from now?" If the answer is no, take a deep breath, go on a walk, and reassess. But know it's ok to have your feelings. Future Niko is validated (and so are you readers!)

So my essay is over. 2023 starts NOW so push off strong and pace yourself! Make this year yours!

[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.