#the amount of hoops i have to jump through here to eat things my dad hasn't touched with his fucking hamster hands is disgraceful!

[wild-at-mind]

Dear sweet baby Jesus, please save me from my dad and brother's questionable personal hygeine at this festive time.

[dragonsatmidnight]

CN: SI

I'm very tired of my brain. And being disabled. And bureaucracy.

I got a car recently because I haven't been able to reliably get myself to medical appointments using the Idaho medicaid transportation system, thinking that because my section 8 benefits would allow me to get an apartment at 935 rent and my current apartment is 795 a month, I could budget for and shop for a car. Except apparently the 935 also has to include all of the utilities they expect me to pay, so they're denying my application because I can't pay enough of a percentage of the rent to qualify for the voucher program.

I've been told there's no way to appeal, and no way for me to reapply with a higher income. So either I try to think of ways to appeal, or ways that I can try to find loopholes, or whatever else, and maybe make headway and get my section 8 benefits, or maybe I just end up putting in a ton of work only to need to subject myself to several months of deeply crushing poverty. Or I don't try and subject myself to deeply crushing poverty.

Which is making me struggle with SI, because poverty that crushing is exhausting, dehumanizing, and you know, miserable. One of the biggest things that can trigger my SI is shit like this. I was living in an abusive situation for literal years, because I didn't think I could tolerate the financial instability of living on a fixed income, unable to have enough money to comfortably feed and clothe and toiletry myself without massive amounts of stress. I got evicted, I went through apartment hunting and moving, I spent months trying to get everything sorted, and I thought I had gotten a handle on things, gone through all of the social programs, and put my brain and body through fucking hell, to realize that I probably needed to move out years ago, and I was in the process of getting my social assistance programs moving, and I could see the light at the end of the jumping through flaming hoops stress tunnel.

Only to get denied based on an overestimation of the utilities I pay, and not being able to just pay another 72 dollars a month so I'm not relying on my parents temporary help to have housing security.

I'm tired of fighting, I'm exhausted, every single thing about being disabled is turning life into this massive fight.

I want to sleep indoors, have a nice computer, have enough clothing to get by, have the accessibility equipment I need, and have enough to eat. The fact that I have to fight like hell in order to get these very, very basic things is exhausting and it makes me want to give up on life. But I can't even do that, because trying to kill myself has mostly resulted in more chronic health issues. And I can't handle any more chronic health issues without shattering the rest of my sanity.

I'm tired of obstacles making me want to die. I'm tired of obstacles. I'm tired of having a brain and body that barely function, only to have to somehow force my brain and body to function if I want to have anything in life.

I don't know if anyone in this void I'm shouting into would have constructive feedback, or how I would feel about it when all I want to do is lie down and give up.

I'm waiting on emails tomorrow to see what's going on, and I'm going to continue to try to talk with the woman at HUD to see if there's anything I can do here.

I may be able to try to apply for adult disabled child benefits when my step dad applies for benefits come July. I may be able to get an increase allotment because I need a ground floor unit and I couldn't find any in my town.

Do I have hope? Not currently. Do I want to try to force myself to have hope? Not especially.

I know I want to be done. I know I want to lie down and not worry about anything. There's a voice whispering in the back of my head that if I died, my partner would have a bunch of their debt forgiven. I would want them to have my car, but honestly I don't know what happens to a car you're making payments on when you die. Does the bank get it?

I know they'd rather have me. I'm just so tired. And I'm exhausted. and I'm tired of having to deal with all of the hoops, and the SI on top of the hoops.

I'm sleep deprived and rambling now, so I'll try to call it there. This is just depressing and demoralizing.

[khadij-al-kubra]

Punk FamILY AU...

If you know me, you know that I LOVE the Punk AU by @asofterfan and I know that they all end up together during college and stuff. So I just couldn’t help imagining all them grown up and becoming parents to a young punkling.

Buckle up friends, this is gonna be a long one. *cracks knuckles* I present to you, A Punk Family AU:

One of the punks is home while the others are at work one day; let’s just say Virgil. And he hears something rifling through their trash can outside. When he goes to investigate if it’s a burglar or a raccoon, it turns out to be a little girl.

She’s skinny with dirty (literally and color-wise) blond hair tucked into a backwards baseball cap, a missing front tooth, beat-up high-tops with holes in them and overalls with a t-shirt that’s too big for her. She can’t be more than 10 or 11.

She jumps at being found and runs, but Virgil follows her. He catches up to her in an alley but as he corners her he holds his hands up and carefully tells her it’s okay. The Girl gets super prickly. Like straight up feral defensive wild child. (more like an angry kitten) She’s clearly been through a lot.

Somehow he manages to gently talk her down, promising he’s not gonna hurt her or call the police. He just wants to talk. He also notices that she’s got a slightly bruised cut on her cheek (something he recognizes easily) and offers her a band-aid and maybe something hot to eat.

She doesn’t know why but somehow this little girl sense she can trust this black clad spiky grown-up. Because even though he looks scary she can see something soft and kind in his eyes behind the purple (her favorite color) bangs; something she’s not used to seeing in adults.

Back at the apartment Virgil gets her cut cleaned up and feeds her some leftovers as well as some of Patton’s cookies. She practically inhales it all. When he gently asks her name she tells him it’s Morgan. That’s all he gets out of her for now, but as promised he wont call the cops. Virgil waits for the others to get back, hoping they can figure out what to do

Logan, Patton and Roman get home and of course are surprised to see Virgil drawing pictures with some strange kid in their living room. Like before, Morgan goes into feral defensive mode, but Virgil tells Morgan. they’re alright. They’re his...friends (getting into the whole polyamory thing isn’t priority now) and promises they won’t hurt her. The punks introduce themselves, and Virgil fills them in.

They all get a sense that this girl is in trouble and want to help. Patton is the most careful around her and Morgan actually softens up a bit. But the second he mentions he’s a social worker she bristles, screaming “I’m NOT GOING BACK TO THAT FOSTER HOUSE! YOU CANT MAKE ME!!” They’re all taken aback. Morgan looks like she’s about to cry but she holds her chin high, fists balled, tough and brave. A true punkling.

Logan calmly tells her that Patton doesn’t work with social services or foster care, and they aren’t going to bring her anywhere she doesn’t want to go. Roman promises on his honor that “you, little princess are safe with us, and may take shelter here for the night.” Logan worries logistically about this but they all agree. Virgil even lets her have his bed.

The next day they eventually get more info out of her. They find out, just as they suspected, that Morgan is a runaway foster kid who’s been in and out of the system. She was taken out of a bad Home situation when she was eight only to be passed around between similar families and people who just wanted a meal card or were abusive or neglectful in various ways to various degrees. After four days in her most recent foster home, she ran away, taking her few personal belongings in a duck taped backpack, and has been living in the streets for a week.

All four of their hearts go out to this tough little girl, but especially Logan and Virgil because SHES JUST LIKE THEY WERE!!! Roman’s a sniffling mess and Patton can’t help but immediately gently hug her, which after a stiff few seconds she melts into because it’s Patton and he’s just magic like that!

And all of them agree to help her somehow. They promise not to take her back and say that ‘if she wants to’ Morgan can stay with them for a while until they find her a safer situation. She looks at all these odd but kind adults, senses something in them that’s the same as her -especially Logan and Virgil- and nods her head yes. Besides, if she needs to, she can always sneak away. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But of course, she doesn’t. Instead they start to look after her. She hangs around and reads or draws or watches tv while they’re at work, and they spend time with her when Home. They shower her with love and kindness and slowly get her to open up to them.

Patton teaches her how to bake, finding out she’s super giggly and clumsy and sweet. When they cut out sugar cookies into shapes (Patton has star, Moon, and dinosaur cut outs) she makes hers look like little monsters and ices them various colors. Its adorable. He calls her kiddo all the time, to which she blushes, but actually really likes it. Better than being called ‘brat’ or ‘that kid’ or ‘good for nothing’ or— Patton stops her there and hugs her. He gives her new compliments and endearing nicknames for every unkind thing that’s ever possibly been said to her. He also tells her lots of Dad jokes, which she finds stupidly hilariously and snort laughs every time. Which makes Patton melt because HOLY HECK SO CUTE!

Turns out she’s also protective like Patton. One day he takes her to the park for fresh air and she pushed a bully into the sand after they were picking on some smaller kid with evident developmental problems, shouting “Eat my fists you monkey faced jerk! I WILL PHYSICALLY FIGHT YOU!!” Needless to say, he’s super proud, but he pulls her off the kid before they both draw too much attention. Then he takes her for ice cream and explains that while it’s great to stand up to bullies you also can’t go around biting people.

Roman practices lines in front of her and she interjects sometimes with her own made up lines that, yes, divert entirely from the plot, but are just too fun and interesting and he just goes along with it. He also brings her to the drama section of the books store to pick out a few plays to read on her own (she stumbles across a copy of Eve Ensler’s “The Vagina Monologues” but he takes it out of her hands saying, “let’s maybe save that one for when you’re a bit older, my little warrior princess.”) He even sews colorful patches onto her old backpack for her and offers to help put studs on her baseball cap.

Logan brings her some small assignments from the middle school he teaches at because runaway kid or not, he’s gonna make sure this little girl learns a thing or two damnit. Turns out she’s super bright and especially loves mythology and history. She’s always asking him to tell her about female historical figures especially, and is fascinated (albeit confused at first but eventually gets it) when he goes on his rants about the stupidity of the binary and toxic masculinity. “Oohhh you mean like how I think boys AND girls are pretty, and how you, Roman, Virgil and Patton all like-like each other?” And Logan’s Punk gay heart is so proud of this perceptive punklet.

Virgil though, oh Virgil bonds with Morgan the most. Not only does he share his past with her and thus she opens up more to him (she even shows him the scar on the back of her shoulder from her first foster parent), but they are SO much alike! Turns out not only do they have the same favorite color, foods and animal, but Virgil finds out that Morgan is also artistic too. She tells him about how she wants to draw comic books when she’s grown-up and they draw together all the time.

In a short amount of time (let’s say a few weeks) all four of them just fall in love with this feisty sweet and artsy little punk!! Suffice to say, they all vote they want to keep her. But eventually someone contacts Patton, finds out (through no fault of his own) that Morgan ran away, and has been with them the whole time.

Her old foster family didn’t report anything till now because they would’ve gotten find or something. Still, she’s in the system so they're preparing to send someone over to place her with a new family. Morgan overhears this and runs to Patton’s arms screaming and crying “DON’T LET THEM TAKE ME AWAY FROM YOU! PLEASE!!” They hug her tightly, promising she never has to go back.

They have to go through a LOT of hoops, paperwork, and red tape to keep their promise. Them being four grown poly men and at least half of them in (to their eyes) dubious jobs (ugh the Man), they aren’t exactly ideal or typical candidates for fostering, let alone adoption. However, they are impressed by and convinced by both Patton’s credentials as a therapist/social worker for inner city kids, as well as Logan’s educational background and teaching degree. (Plus, they are admittedly a bit intimidated by Logan and also Virgil)

Eventually (like say it takes a month or so) they are able to get around the system. They ask Morgan if she would want to be part of their family because, even though they love her so much, ultimately what she wants matters most. And Morgan, this little punk lost girl has come to love them too and practically jumps into their arms!! All four surround her in a hug.

Morgan moves in permanently and even officially gets her own room now (Virgil’s old studio, but it’s cool. The guys all share a bed most nights anyway). She’s also got Dot and Larry and Patton’s Mom as the best grandparents ever (they all adore and spoil her when they come over to visit the boys). And she gets also gets along really well with her uncle Thomas who plays ukulele and sings for her. He also tries to teach her how to sing, but it turns out she’s a bit tone deaf. (Oh well) And she’s got her godparent Elliot and her Aunty Remy too, who offers to do her first tattoo WHEN SHES OLDER! (You know her tattoo artist Dad isn’t gonna be the irresponsible parent and let his daughter do that too young, no matter how Punk a family they are)

Logan eventually enrolls Morgan into the school he teaches at too. Instead of being embarrassed to have her Pop as her teacher she brags about it. Like, “that’s right. My Pop is smarter than your dad. All four of them are! Weeeell maybe not Daddy as much.” (Roman: “Hey!”)

However, he does have to step in sometimes when she starts getting into arguments with the other kids when she starts shouting things like “SMASH the patriarchy!” or “I have the best dads in the world! FIGHT ME!” and “Gender’s a construct! The binary’s useless, bitches!!” First time the four of them have ever been called into the principals office because of someone else’s bad behavior XD. Eventually they teach her to tone it down and that there are ways of being punk and standing up for others without resorting to screaming and fighting first; something it took them years to learn and only now appreciate as adults.

Usually Papa Patton will come to pick her up after school and they’ll either go to the park or to home. Sometimes he’ll gently and subtly get her to talk a little about her past if he sees she’s been down lately and they’ll hug out the bad feelings. Sometimes her Daddy Roman will pick her up and take her to the theater he works at so she can hang out backstage. All the performers love her, and she even starts getting interested in and learning about tech work from the stage crew.

Family time for them includes laughing around the dinner table, them listening to Morgan’s stories, and movie marathons with cuddle piles. Either Disney movies or Marvel movies (usually the latter if Morgan pulled out the kitty eyes; the punks’ kryptonite.)

If she ever does have bad days or wakes up from nightmares about her old life, it’s usually her Dad Virgil who’ll be first to her bedside rocking her in his arms; then all four are there surrounding her with kisses and hugs and love. In short, Morgan is the happiest she’s ever been with her new loving punk family. And all four of the punks found the piece of their family they hadn’t even known was missing.

[figjelly]

The 2018 Rumination Spectacular

It’s a long post. It’s gonna be triggering. Blacklist “ash 2018″ and “long post.” Sorry mobile users. Here’s a picture. Use this as a warning that you should blacklist those tags NOW if you don’t wanna read:

For about a week, I’ve wondered how to start this post. How to finish it. What to put in the middle. It’s really a shame, being depressed and anxious and all sorts of other things but maintaining a high self-esteem. It’s not like I want to. My mind and my brain and my body refuse to let me just be. They constantly remind me I have to be center stage, the best, to be adored. Let’s be honest. I don’t have high self-esteem. I have an obsessive, insatiable desire for love because I was born to abusive people. I was raised by more abusive people. I’ve continued to place my trust and well-being in abusive people. And then, when things fall spectacularly apart, I blame myself. I blame my body. I blame my brain. I blame my mind. A lot has happened this year. A big thing: the realization that I desperately crave others to want me. I want to feel loved and valuable and interesting and just wanted. And, I guess, that’s what school gave me. I left my PhD program in May 2017 and it’s taken almost two years to realize I didn’t stay in school or move into higher education because I had a burning passion (okay, I mean, I do still have a passion for my work but it wasn’t the foundation). The American education system gave an abused child something slightly better than I had: praise and positive feedback for jumping hoops. My home life twenty years ago? There was no rhyme or reason to which behaviors would yield which result. School? College? Grad school? Let’s face it. I’m white. At the time I was identifying as straight and female. I was going into STEM. Perform well, earn As, be friendly. Rules rules rules. Two weeks ago, I finally told my therapist of almost five years how my first sexual experience was a doctor raping me. It’s really funny. Hilarious actually how it’s taken thirty-one years to feel like I am my own person. Because before the doctor, there’d been my step-father (”It isn’t really enough to do anything with,” the police had told me when I was sixteen at my then therapist’s office). There’d been the high school boyfriend (”My dad was in the marines. I inherited his anger management problems.”). But there was also my mom. My grandmother who isn’t my grandmother but she “adopted” my mom as her daughter. They met online on a forum for Forever Knight, a 90s Canadian supernatural romance crime show about a woman who has a vampire for a partner. It’s really hard, yanno, to be gentle with myself. Don’t be angry.

So, 2018 was a year of me working on this. I’m still working. I’m angry at everything nowadays. There’s no good resolution to it other than to sit with it. I don’t understand how people can say, “Let anger go,” like I intentionally hold onto it. This anger and pain and trauma is carved into my bones and it gets carried through like oxygen in my bloodstream. Whenever I think about this anger at myself, the regret and the hurt, the left side of my left arm hurts. It starts about the middle of my forearm and goes to my pinky. Asking when this started isn’t a useful question. I’m angry because I let myself be used and hurt by people. I’m angry because I ignored my own needs and wants. I’m angry because now I’m thirty-one and it feels like my life is over. I made a lot of decisions and they were all made for the benefit of others. “Be your own person,” only works when you’ve got a person who isn’t desperate for love. I’m angry because I feel like I’ve wasted my life worrying about other people. Yes, yes. I’m not old. Don’t bother telling me. You don’t pay my bills. You can tell me what I feel when you give me money--substantial amounts of it. In 2005, I gave my step-father $1500. I’ve been working at the local Dairy Queen for years, saving money religiously because I was desperate to get a car, drive, gain independence. My parents told me the insurance was too expensive. My step-dad was the only driver because my mom has MS. It would probably never happen, but just in case. I should save, just in case. I gave my step-father money because he said, “The van needs fixed. Without it, you know your mom can’t get to the hospital.” I can’t remember any night between the ages of 15-17 when the police of the EMTs weren’t at my house. All of my homework was usually left abandoned in red and blue lights. I’d get back to it at midnight. Nothing mattered to my teachers except that I made As. At this point, I don’t know where blame lies but it seems pretty solid that I get stuck with the anger. 2018 was the year I realized that I don’t know how to have friends, how to keep a job, how to think about a career. 2018 was the year I realized that I have to make peace with living in poverty again. I was doing so well. Grad school was the best my finances had ever been. Until December 2013. I tried to kill myself. It’s old news. I was in the hospital. They forgot about me and I ended up spending three more days than needed. PROTIP: don’t try killing yourself during the holidays. Everyone will just tell you the holidays are rough for everyone. And finals. Mid-December is the time for students to also feel the pressure. If you’re neither of these, good luck. I took out massive amounts of student loans to go back to school. To pay my hospital bills. I was so desperate to get back into school because it was the only place that made sense. 2018 was the year I decided to change my name, my gender. I’m learning how to live in my body. It’s taken thirty-one years, but I’ve come to the realization it was mine. For six years, I took meds that made me weigh over 200 lbs all for the benefit of the high school boyfriend. For five years I starved myself because I wanted everyone to see what a successful PhD student I was. My body has never been mine before. This is a new thing for me. 2018? It started off with hope. There was less hope for most of it. I think it’s ending with hope. I hope it is.

My mom refuses to stop calling me. Five years ago, I stopped answering her calls. I begged her to stop. I was polite. I was rude. I was angry. I was at peace. I’ve tried everything. Her contacting me isn’t about me, it’s about her. It’s about what she wants. in December of 2013, I tried to kill myself.

It’s so old news, my mom told my partner when he called her, “Oh. Well, let me know when everything’s okay.” In 2009 I was admitted into the hospital for exhaustion. I’d had a breakdown in college. I was told to try yoga. Meditation. I was told it was just test anxiety. All I’ve ever desperately wanted was to be the priority.

And I bent for other people. I broke myself and put myself back together in ways other people would find pleasing. I bend and I break and now my body hurts. Chronically. In 2016 I was in a car accident. My partner has told me most of this story. I remember almost nothing. I spent two months locked up in my house with a concussion. More debt. More weight gained. My partner tells me at one point the doctors kept poking and prodding my feet. He tells me that I wasn’t responding and that my legs weren’t moving. He was horrified that the accident had left me paraplegic. I don’t remember any of this. The doctors eventually told him it was just shock. My body overloaded with too much too fast. And not enough neuron action, I guess. Too much, not enough. I discovered yesterday that Jack Kerouac said something similar. I’ve never read anything by him. Must be a common human feeling. Everything is too much. Everything is not enough. 2018 is right now still and I’m still working on reshaping myself for myself and not for others. 1987 was right then and thirty days before it ended, I came at the last minute. I’ve spent my entire life trying to make sure I was early to make a good impression. Now, I arrive when I arrive. I live in the land of -ish. Work hasn’t yelled at me. Yet. 2018: I started drawing again. I started writing again. I am trying not to feel like I’m too old. I’m working. I’m trying. I’m doing. I’m poor. I feel like my college degree warrants me not that but que was que is. I obsessively think about contacting my mom. No matter the meds, I have to count 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 every time I lock the door to the comic book shop where I work. If I don’t, the door isn’t locked. I’ve never had wide hips but I’ve always had thick thighs. My butt has always been big. My culture rather I’d accept my fate as a woman, bend myself and break myself to be one. They don’t belong to me. My thighs eat anything that comes between them. I wish I was being literal. I wish my thighs had eaten other people’s hands and other body parts. Vagina dentata is too late for my tastes. I want my thighs to reflexively snap like a bear trap and break someone’s neck. But I have a hard enough time finding clothes I can live with. I’m wearing the pants of Theseus right now. I’m tired of sewing patches into the holes my thighs keep eating. 2018 and I’m wondering if I will ever stop hurting. But it’s 2018 and I know I’m a better me than I’ve ever been before. And right now, that’s enough.

[sincerlyyme-blog]

Group Therapy (CONNOR MURPHY x READER)

AUTHORS NOTE: hello!!!!! i am back!!!!!!! i wrote this little thing, in hopes of making it a multiple part series. so this is just part one! but if you guys dont like it, let me know and ill just leave it as it is. I also want to take a moment to say that i am back to UPLOADING A FIC OR HEADCANON ONCE A DAY!! when i first started this blog, that was my uploading schedule. life got in the way, but im back baby!!!!! 

Word Count: 2.4k ish

TW: suicide, suicide descriptions, swearing, therapy groups , etc

PS: i have been to many group therapies, so this is all just based purely on personal experience. so if this is triggering to you, please dont read any further!!!!

           Connor Murphy was special. Not special in the way you would describe a rare artifact or gem. He was special like the waves in the ocean, the colours in the sky, or oil paint on a canvas. He was special because you knew what to expect. Like a wave in the ocean, you expected to crash. Like the colours in the sky, you expected to fade out after hours of daylight. Like oil paint on a canvas, you expected to dry and harden after creating something beautiful. Connor Murphy was a synonym for beautiful; only the rarest of poets could find in a dictionary. He was the sound that rolled off of the tongue of a politician. He was the feeling of warm laundry, draping around your body. Connor was all of these things—which is why his downfall was to be expected.

           You had tried numerous group therapies in the past. None of them seemed to improve your feelings or behaviors. But they stabilized your health, which is all you could really ask for. There was something equally pleasing and eerie about joining group therapy. It was oddly satisfying to hear everyone bitch and complain, but also eerie that the painted beige walls would contain a group of kids who tried to kill themselves. Talk about a Suicide Squad.

           You drove yourself to group therapy. This one was named Youth Wonders: Group Therapy and Psychiatrics. The name was slathered on the brick building in bronze lettering. It looked ancient. Maybe it looked cool back in 2002, but it made you roll your eyes just at the sight. You were 5 minutes early. Your keys were still lodged into your car ignition. This was the hardest part: getting out of the car. There was always that part of you that was tempted to ditch, go eat some McDonald’s for the hour, and go back home to tell your dad that everything went well. The feeling of guilt spread over your stomach just at the thought. You have lied to your father many times before. He didn’t deserve to be lied to again.

           Finally, you slumped out of the driver’s seat and walked into the horrid building. It smelt like old carpet and candle wax. Kind of like a church. But nothing Holy grew an abundance to you whilst walking through the halls. A white, thick door was stood open with a brick. On the inside if the door, facing you, a pink slip of paper was taped up.

“TEEN YOUTH SUICIDAL THERAPY GROUP”

           They really don’t sugar coat anything here. Your footsteps grew heavier as you walked through the door. Plastic chairs were all set up in a circle. Inside there were only four teenagers, and a woman who had a strange resemblance to Whoopi Goldberg.

           “Name, please?” her scratchy voice echoed off the walls. Her dry hands where clutching a clipboard and her pink pen was held between her fingers, like a cigarette.

           “Oh, uh, Y/N L/N,” you frowned, taking a seat across from her.

           According to the amount of chairs set up, there were only six people in the group. You, an empty chair, Whoopi-Goldberg-lady, and an empty chair. The empty chair was to your left. You stared at it, feeling cold. The awkward tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. You took this moment of silence as an opportunity to look around the room. All of the teens glared at their feet.

           The girl next to you had red hair. Her face was populated with cystic acne that looked painful to the touch. Her ginger locks were pulled into a low ponytail. She wore a large men’s sweater that hung off of her skinny body. Sitting to her left was a large Filipino boy. He wore a purple sweater and old hiking shoes. The toe of the boots were worn out and his big toe peeked out. His hair was greasy, and he looked in need of a shower. Down the line, in the circle, sat a Latina girl. Her hair was done perfectly and her ears were pierced. Big golden hoops dangled from the lobes, reaching her collarbone. She was chewing bubblegum, and wearing a croptop – even though the temperature was just above freezing. Finally, in the corner sat a very pale white boy. He was short and skinny. He looked like he was 12 years old. His minecraft shirt had large orange stains, and had blonde whiskers growing in on his upper lip.

           Whoopi-Goldberg-lady took a final sigh, clicking her pen. Just as she opened her mouth to speak, another person stomped in.

           “You finally decided to join us…” the woman looked at her clipboard before reading out loud, “Connor?”

           The boy grunted in response, throwing his body down onto the chair next to you. You winced at the sound. He had long hair. The ends curled into the collar of his denim jacket. Your eyes trailed up to his face. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he grinded his teeth together. The Whoopi-lady stood up, smoothing out the material of her chiffon blouse.

           “Welcome, everyone. My name is Liz,” she spoke above her gravely tone.

           Her name was Liz. Finally, you could stop referring to her as the Whoopi-Goldberg-lady, in your head.

           “I will be your counselor and guide for this group. Within our 9 weeks here, I expect all of you to hit a few goals. The first being: opening up. I want you to share your story, knowing that whatever is said in here, stays in here.”

           You could hear the boy next to you, practically scoff.

           “So the first thing we are going to do is; go around the room, say your name, age, and explain why you are here.”

           You could feel everyone tense up.

           “Let’s start with,” Liz glanced at her clipboard. “Jamie.”

           The red-haired girl sat up straight. She removed her fingers from her mouth, as she was just chewing on her cuticles moments ago. Her bleeding fingers dove into the sleeves of her sweater.

           “Hi, I’m Jamie,” she spoke softly, almost like a robot. “I’m 15 and I’m here because I overdosed on sleeping pills.”

           Liz nodded, “Ok. Great. Thank you, Jamie.”

           Next in line was the boy in hiking boots.

           “Hi, I’m Leroy. I’m 16 and I tried to hang myself from a tree,” his voice was a deep baritone. But was quickly cut off by the Latina girl beside him.

           “Did the tree break, fatty?”

           “Andrea,” Liz warned. “This is supposed to be a safe space.”

           “Ok, yeah, whatever. I’m Andrea. I’m 18. This is my third time here. I took too much meth and blacked the fuck out. So I’m here,” she snapped her gum, fingering the golden hoop on her ear.

           “Daniel, your turn,” Liz looked at the small pale boy.

“Hi, um, I’m Daniel. I’m 16 and I, uh,” the boy began to sob violently. Your heart broke a little bit. The boy next to you, Connor, scoffed. You were almost in disbelief at his heartless gesture.

“It’s ok, hun. Take your time,” Liz spoke softly.

Daniel continued, hiccupping and telling the group how he tried to end his life just two weeks prior. After many tissues, Liz continued down the line.

“Connor?”

The boy next to you, shifted in his seat. He was now sitting up, straight. His long legs tangled over each other. His large, black combat boots looked heavy against his skinny shins. He was wearing a lot of layers.

“Yeah, hi, I’m Connor. I’m 17. I tried killing myself 3 weeks ago.”

“How? You have to say how,” Andrea twirled her hair around her finger.

“Why? Do you get off to people’s backstories or some shit?” he hissed back.

Liz waved the two of them off, gesturing that it was okay to keep those details private. Next was you. And you could feel your breath become heavy. All eyes landed on you.

“Well, uh, my name is Y/N. I’m 17, also. I tried killing myself last year, but I’m here because my therapist told me to,” you spoke softly.

“That’s fucking boring.”

“Andrea!”

 You were pouring coffee into a Styrofoam cup, rubbing the drowsiness out of your eyes. It was the half-way mark through group therapy. The group is given a 15 minute break between the two hours, and there is a small table full of shitty snacks and coffee.

“Coffee at 1pm?” a voice spoke from behind you. You turned to see that Connor boy offering you a lazy smirk.

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”            “Well it’s shitty filtered coffee, and no one drinks coffee in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much,” you spoke while moving to the side, putting creamer and 8 packets of sugar into the small cup. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Jesus Christ,” he gaped at the amount of sugar you put in.

“It’s good, you should try it some time,” you mused, taking a small sip.

Connor shook his head, pouring some of the filtered brew into a cup of his own. “No, thanks. I’d like to live well into my thirties.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of why you’re here?”

“Touché.”

 The rest of the afternoon went as expected. Red-haired girl went on a rant about her dad never loving her, Daniel cried some more, and Liz gave us homework to complete for next week. The green folder full of worksheets will be added to the pile of therapy homework that you never do. You have other things on your plate. You have a job, school, and university to think about.

While walking to your car, you see the tall boy leaning against the hood of your car.

“Uh, hi?” you spoke, raising on eyebrow.

He jumped a little bit, not seeing you at first. “Oh, hey, can you drive me home? My dad is at work and my mom…” he trailed off, looking at his feet.

You scratched the back of your head, not really knowing what to say.

“I’m sorry, I barely even know you. I should just walk home-“ he began to ramble, grabbing his messenger bag from between his feet.

“Get in,” you sighed, unlocking the car.

“Wait. Really?”

“What’s your address?”

The car ride was pretty silent. It contained the sound of your humming motor, and the small murmurs of directions from Connor. You had asked him what street he lived on, but he just told you that he would direct you there. He lived on the outskirts of the city. By following his directions, you drove into the suburbs. The houses were all parallel to each other. Each of them very large, big two-car garages, and nicely trimmed lawns. It was the type of neighborhood that would give out the good candy on Halloween.

“It’s the house on left, here,” he mumbled once again. Your eyes practically bugged out of your head.

“This one?” you took one hand off the steering-wheel to point to the house in front of you. It was gigantic. It was painted yellow with a dark blue door. It must have been at least 4 stories high. The backyard, from what you could see, was massive. Two large pillars on other side of the front door, reminding you of pictures in textbooks about ancient Rome.

As you pulled into his driveway, Connor picked at his nail polish. “What? Are you surprised?”

“A little,” you laughed, looking over at him.

He began to pick up his bag, looking over at you. The sunset in the sky casted a pink shadow in your car, making everything a rose colour.

“Well, uh, thanks. I’ll see you next week,” he spoke, stepping out of your car.

You watched as the goth boy walked into the giant, yellow house. It was a sight to see.

 Next week rolled around, and you were five minutes early. You sat in your car, rubbing your temples. Another night without sleep. It was beginning to take a toll. Sitting in your car became a ritual you had. It gave you time to mope, before having to put on a brave face for wherever you were going. You let out a large sigh. Your head was pounding. Placing your forehead in the palms of your hands, you laid them down on the steering wheel. Closing your eyes, you were grateful to have a second to decompose.

It was quiet until you heard your passenger door open and slam shut. You let out a scream, sitting back, looking at the man who just entered. It was Connor.

“WHAT THE HELL?”

“Chill the fuck out.”

“CONNOR, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT.”

“What? Get in someone’s car? I know. I’m not an idiot.”

You began to go on a slight rampage, telling him about how many girls get abducted by leaving their cars unlocked. He responded by telling you to ‘lock your fucking car, then’. Before you could shout another witty response, he shoved a cup of hot coffee into your hand.

“Here.”            “What… What is this?”

“Coffee, you dumbass.”

“Yeah, I know. But why?”

He just shrugged, taking a sip out of his own cup, leaning back in the passenger seat.

“So, why do you sit in here?” he mumbled against the warm lid of his beverage.

“It’s just nice, I guess?” you spoke out softly, rubbing your eyes.

Connor nodded, drinking his coffee quietly. You did the same.

  Lunch time came around. Therapy had been going well. But you couldn’t help but find yourself staring into space every other minute. It was no group participation. It consisted of Liz telling everyone that how they were feeling is “okay”. It wasn’t anything that you hadn’t heard before.

You stood up the moment Liz said that your 15 minute break began. You walked over to the snack table, pouring another cup of coffee. Connor watched you from his seat, chewing on his bottom lip.

No one else had picked up on your caffeine habits. Rather, the rest of the teenagers fought over the sugar cookies that were lined up on the table. You walked back to your seat, sighing loudly as your butt hit the chair. You took a large gulp of the cheap caffeine, letting your eyes settle close for a moment.

“You know, I never got to hear your story last week,” you spoke softly with your eyes still closed.

“Well, same goes to you, I guess,” he mumbled back, slouching into his chair.

You cracked an eye open, looking at him. “Mine isn’t as recent.”

He shrugged back, watching you as your eyes flutter shut once more.

“My family is shit. My parents hate me. Some kid wrote a weird letter about my sister. I freaked the fuck out. It was just kind of the last straw, I guess?”

 It was quiet for a few more moments. You opened your mouth to speak, then Liz clapped loudly, asking everyone to return to their seats. Group began again, and Connor avoided your eyes at all costs.

[valisi-clark]

Renegade

Day 8: Freeform

Thank you to the hosts of @bottomerwinweek ! You deserve a pat on the back, or a hug, or an appreciative handjob maybe......... 

here’s the thing

******

Erwin turned on the tap in the kitchen and filled the small pot with water before putting it on to boil. Some mornings, he didn't miss the United States. But when he felt like he urgently needed coffee, and he had to wait to boil water, he missed being a spoiled American with a Keurig. Rather than walking away from the stove, he stood and watched the tiny bubbles begin to form in the bottom of the pot.

The isolation was finally getting to him. Even though they had made trips over the years to fill the safe house with entertainment, books, board games, puzzles, a set of weights, coloring books and markers and pencils, notebooks and pens, it hadn't proved to be much over a period of eight months. There was no way for him to read or hear news from his home country. He missed constantly being on top of the news. Knowing what was going on in the world never seemed like such a luxury before.

The pot of water came to roiling boil, and he poured some of it into the french press. When he closed the top, he watched the coffee through the glass while he waited for it steep. Coffee from a french press did taste better, but that wasn't really what bothered him. He had to admit again to himself.

He missed his computer. He missed the endless streams of information, and all of the angles that had to be worked out on a daily basis.

Even more than that, he missed Levi.

Erwin swallowed, trying to maintain the flood of emotion that came from even thinking of the man's name. He pressed the plunger in the french press down firmly before he poured his coffee into a mug. Finally, he lifted the mug and tasted. It wasn't bad.

Mug in hand, Erwin walked across the small house and to the front door. He opened it and smelled the air. It was a nice day. Hot but with low humidity. And in the distance, he could see the city of Chihuahua. When Erwin imagined Mexico, he always imagined desert. That's how television depicted Mexico anyway, lots of desert with tiny houses in the middle of nowhere. But when Erwin had picked the safe house he wanted to be near a city. Chihuahua was beautiful. If he ever needed to hide for a few days, it would be easier to alternate hiding among other people and hiding in the secluded house.

He didn't make very many trips to buy supplies, and he wasn't eating very much. The defined muscle that he had eight months prior had diminished some despite his routine of working out thirty minutes a day, four times a day. But he wasn’t eating as much. He was thinner. There weren't as many sugary treats sitting around for him to munch while coding. He slept better too, if only from boredom.

Erwin sat down in one of the outdoor chairs that was extremely sun bleached and almost falling apart. He liked to spend his mornings outside and visually explore the scenery.

His mind was too occupied to really enjoy the morning. When he first settled in Chihuahua, he was too paranoid to really think about everything that had happened. He distracted himself with anything, everything, while praying that he wouldn’t hear the hum of helicopters. But for the last month, his mistakes had plagued him daily, no matter what activities he created for himself. He kept thinking about what he could have done differently. How he could have protected himself and his people. How he could be in the Bahamas with Levi instead of in Mexico by himself.

There was that sinking feeling again. Thinking of Levi was inevitable, and it was sweet. But the loneliness he felt was more bitter than the mug of rough black coffee in his hand. Erwin took another sip to try and distract himself. All of the memories

At first, three years ago, it was all just an experiment. He just wanted to see if he could actually do it. Hack into the local credit union. Deduct a quarter of a cent from every twentieth account that made a transaction within a twelve hour period and put it into a bank account that he had created under a false name. The first day, he made over $10,000, and he panicked. He reversed the order, and everyone who he had stolen from had received their money back.

Immediately after that was done, Erwin deconstructed his computer and left its parts strewn all over his room. He considered running a magnet over everything, just to prove to himself that he would never do it again. There wouldn't be any software evidence. He made sure. But he had worked so hard to build that computer. Destroying its parts seemed too painful.

That same night, while he was sitting on his couch, eating Oriental flavored ramen noodles, watching the weather channel because it was free, he thought about that $10,000. He thought about how nice it would be to go to the local grocery store and buy a rib eye steak. Or even some fresh fruit. Maybe a lot of it. The only time of the year that he could afford those things was around Christmas, because his dad would send him a small check for a gift, and after his tax return. Every year, he halved his tax return. Half for bills or debt. Half for his computer or better food. Erwin took one more bite of his ramen before he set the bowl down in his lap and looked at it. He was disgusted with his retail store lifestyle. It had to end.

Erwin started the process again. He randomized the program and maintained it solo for a week. But there was too much money collecting just for himself. He needed help. The money was no good still in the bank account. If he was ever caught, the first thing the FBI would confiscate was the money in the bank. The only money that mattered was cash. Cold, hard cash that he could hide.

Erwin needed to collect people to help him get the cash out of the bank.

First, he started close to home, with his best friends. He didn't tell Mike and Nanaba immediately. He only started asking simple questions about money. Were they satisfied with their jobs? How did they feel about certain laws? Both of them were disgruntled. They were poor. Their university degrees didn't mean shit in their fields. Erwin brought them in. He created separate banks accounts for both of them under false names in two completely different banks, Regions and Fifth Third. They needed fake photo I.D.s. Had to claim they lost their debit cards to replace the one that they never had in the first place. Every two weeks, Mike and Nanaba would go to their respective banks to pull out “rent money” or a “car payment”.

He found Moblit causing chaos, that Erwin thought was so admirable, in the dark web. Moblit wasn’t doing damage. He was just fucking shit up. It was strictly trolling for fun. Moblit's favorite pastime was hacking into government email accounts and changing the password, just to irritate the politician. And Moblit would livestream the results. Erwin laughed every time one of the politicians got locked out of their email account, and they had to jump through hoops just to get back into it.

Along with Moblit, came Hange, who was the mastermind behind most of the ideas. Hange had the ideas. Moblit let her watch while he made it happen. Erwin thought it was a really beautiful arrangement.

After a few years, he finally bought a house that he equipped with everything they needed to keep the operation going. They paid taxes under the illusion that they all worked for a porn company that Erwin fabricated, including the business license. But when anyone would visit the website for their business, the visitor was simply directed to another website where cam girls were performing every day and night. And if the visitor was bold enough to pay for a full session with the young lady, Erwin deducted a dollar from that account for his trouble, without the actual website ever knowing. It was pocket change in comparison to what he had done with the banks. And when he became more comfortable with his software, he hacked into Wells Fargo. Larger network, more places to hide, but tighter security. Wells Fargo became  too lucrative. He had to reduce the amount to an tenth of a penny for every transaction to make the porn business look legitimate. They laundered what they could, but it was a full time job for all of them. Erwin took mornings. Mike and Nanaba afternoons and evenings. Moblit and Hange late nights to early morning.

Then, came Levi. Erwin suspected that someone had been fucking with his laptop for a few weeks. That was fine. There was barely anything on that machine, except for his actual stash of porn and some codes that he had created for viruses or worms that he was trying to build. But one morning, he checked the laptop, and the perpetrator had been sloppy. Some of his porn videos had been moved. Not to a different location. They were out of order in the their folder. Erwin hated it. Someone was in his laptop, and if he didn't box them in fast, they might move to another machine within the house.

He opened notepad and typed out: Who is this? - C0mmand3r. His name wasn't very well known, and he liked it that way. But he felt specifically targeted. In the past, he had asked for some help on the dark web a few times. It was dangerous work. He lost an entire machine over it once. But that was fine. He eventually found the answers. There was no answer on the notepad document for the entire day. The next morning when he woke up. Someone had responded. Those first, glorious two words.

Fuck you.

All of the coding that he had done was missing from the laptop. He had backups. It didn't matter. What mattered was that all of his gay porn had disappeared. He found all of his straight porn in the recycle bin, which had been left there purposely, he imagined.

Erwin messaged back.

If you can figure out the problem I'm having with that worm that I've been working on, please let me know. Leave my porn where I have it. There are times that I need it in a hurry.

Erwin put his porn back in its original folder and closed the laptop. There was no response for a few days. Then, when he checked his laptop one night, there were three new folders on the desktop. One was called WORM. The second was called GOOD PORN. The third was called SHIT PORN.

Whoever had hacked into his laptop had not only returned the worm, in better condition than when it had been stolen, but the hacker had also separated his gay porn between “good” and “shitty”. Most of the porn he had collected ended up in the shitty folder. In the good folder, there were quite a few new videos. Only a handful of his original collection had landed in the good folder. Erwin tried a few of the new videos. He remembered how hot his face felt. But the intruder was right. The videos were better. Better sound. Better lighting. Better angles. More close-ups. He remembered the smile that crossed his face while he watched some of them. When he glanced up at the webcam in his laptop lid, the light was blinking. Whoever had sent him the videos was watching him.

“Can you hear me too?” he asked.

A notepad popped up over the video player.

Yeah

“I really like what you've sent me,” Erwin said. He returned his eyes to the video.

I can tell

Erwin didn't respond to the message for a while. He was too busy going through the videos that he had been sent, and the webcam light continued to flicker on his laptop. Eventually, the tingling in his cock became too uncomfortable, and he realized that if he wasn't going to masturbate in front of a complete stranger, he needed to do something else.

“I've decided that I'm going to retaliate,” Erwin said to the webcam. Erwin closed the laptop, moved to his favorite computer, and began tracking down his hacker. Sending documents back was a mistake on the hacker's part. It was a rookie mistake, but no one who was capable of building a worm code like the one he read earlier would make a mistake like that. It had been done purposely.

Within only a few minutes, he was in the hacker’s machine. He went directly to the webcam, only to be met with black. He laughed. The hacker had actually put opaque tape over his webcam. There was no way to combat that with software. So he hacked into the microphone instead. It was disabled, but it only took a few minutes to enable it again. The first thing that he heard was music. Renegade by Styx.

The jig is up, the news is out

They've finally found me

The renegade who had it made

Retrieved for a bounty

Never more to go astray

This will be the end today

Of the wanted man

Hacking into the laptop was easy. Erwin was surprised that the hacker was using it for everything that he was doing rather than a computer he had built himself. Erwin tried to leave the laptop and find another machine connected to wherever the hacker was staying. He found several computers in the immediate area. One belonged to a child. One belonged to someone who was playing SNOOD. One definitely belonged to an anime nerd. Another was full of porn, but nothing that the hacker liked. Erwin gave up trying to find another machine.

Erwin pulled up a notepad document on the hacker's desktop.

I like your music.

Fuck off get out

Thank you for the porn.

You have horrible taste in porn. Men too probably.

Show me what good taste in men looks like.

There wasn't any answer for a few moments, but Erwin could see that the hacker was coding on the laptop. Working on another stolen code that he had taken from Erwin. He waited patiently. When he was at a good stopping point, he pulled the tape off of his webcam. At first, the camera was shaking, and the light was poor. But then Erwin saw him. Gray eyes. Dark hair. Plain white shirt. Facial expression full of contempt. Erwin was beyond fascinated.

Skype?

No.

Name the platform.

No.

You don't want to see me again?

I can see you whenever I want as long as you're using your laptop.

The man was looking off screen quite a lot then, typing on a different keyboard than the laptop. Somewhere else, beyond sight, Erwin was sure that he was trying to hack into his computer.

You can't get into this computer that I'm using.

Wanna bet?

Yes.

What's the prize?

You have 24 hours. If you get in, you can have any code that you find in my computer. And I mean any code.

It was a high price. Erwin was using his favorite computer that he trusted to hack into banks. And now this guy was going to try and find a way to get into it while Erwin was actively running the program to steal money from Wells Fargo. Erwin knew of two ways to get into his computer. He had hacked it before himself to make sure that it was difficult enough. One way was relatively easy, but there were extremely dangerous firewalls with brutal worms attached to them. If the hacker tried to get in the easy way, there wouldn’t be a computer alive in his entire building by the end of it. If the hacker took the long way, it would take him much longer than 24 hours, but he could get through. He could find out what Erwin was doing.

And if I lose?

Skype date with me.

There was a long pause, and Erwin could hear that he was typing faster. His gray eyes bouncing along the screen. He looked at the webcam. The music stopped.

“Deal,” he said. Erwin's stomach did a backflip. He had never seen someone like this man before. And his voice. It shot through Erwin's bones like electricity.

What’s your name?

“I’m Levi.”

I’m Erwin.

Levi lost the bet. Later, Erwin learned that Levi didn't even try.

******

Erwin came out of his daydream and sipped his coffee again. The coffee had gone cold. It wasn't the first time he had done that this month. But reminiscing was all that he had left.

He glanced at the primitive watch on his left wrist. It was past time for his breakfast. Time to work out for the first time.

Erwin stood from the outdoor chair and went back into the little house, closing the rickety door with his foot.

******

“Erwin.”

Erwin reached under his pillow for his gun, and it was missing. Then, there was weight on top of him, and hands holding down his shoulders. He fought, but the aggressor had the advantage. He didn't know who it was. Police were supposed to be loud. The intruder had been quiet. He fought anyway.

“Erwin! Stop it!”

Erwin stopped. That voice. The feeling of the body on top of him.

“Levi?” Erwin breathed.

“It's me, you dipshit,” Levi said. Erwin pushed at Levi until he fell back a little, and Erwin reached out and turned on the light on the nightstand. He slid back in the small bed and looked at Levi like he was a stranger.

“Levi-”

“Hey,” Levi said. Erwin looked him over. Plain white shirt. Dark jeans. Black socks. Boots were probably near the front door.

Erwin reached out, grabbed Levi by the shirt, and pulled Levi back on top of him. He wrapped his arms around Levi's waist and squeezed until Levi gasped. But Levi wrapped his arms just as tightly around Erwin's shoulders, breathing heavily. Erwin held tightly, hoping that it wasn't just another dream, and when he woke up, Levi would be gone again. Levi wiggled in his grasp, trying to pull back. That was real enough for Erwin. They leaned back far enough away from each other just far enough for a kiss, not willing to break the contact, but unable to stop. Erwin forced his tongue into Levi's mouth and found that taste he had been dreaming of for eight months. Minty and male.

Levi pulled back gasping.

“Erwin.”

“Levi,” Erwin said.

“Sorry I scared you.”

“It's alright,” Erwin said. “I'm glad you took the gun.”

Levi leaned towards him again, and Erwin grunted when he felt Levi pull his blond hair. Erwin pushed his hands under Levi's shirt and felt of the smooth skin, recognizing every inch of it, remembering the taste. But Levi pulled away again.

“Hey,” Levi gasped. “Let's talk. Talk first, and then we'll fuck.”

“Alright,” Erwin nodded. But they kissed again. Pawing at each other, gasping. Erwin took his mouth from Levi's, dropped his head, pressed his open mouth against Levi's neck and bit him gently, the way Levi liked it. When Levi groaned in his ear, Erwin's cock twitched.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Levi whispered, leaning back again. Erwin released his teeth, still holding onto him. But Levi pried himself from Erwin's arms and sat back on the bed. Putting distance between them. “Alright.” Levi ran his fingers through his hair, trying to put it back in place. Erwin pulled his feet out from under the sheet and put one foot against Levi's knee, feeling of the denim under his foot. His eyes were watering. He hadn't touched anyone in eight months. “Hey, it's okay.” Levi didn't miss anything.

“I missed you,” Erwin said. Levi moved over to him again, and in seconds, they were in the same predicament. Erwin even pulled Levi's shirt off, and his tongue automatically sliding over one hard nipple, sucking until Levi squirmed on top of him, pressing his tongue flat against Levi's skin and dragging it up to Levi's clavicle.

“I missed you, Erwin,” Levi whispered. “I have to talk to you now, okay?”

“Talk,” Erwin said. He pressed his mouth to Levi's neck and sucked, teething at the skin over the bite.

“Ah,” Levi gasped. “Alright. Listen. You're getting on a plane tomorrow.” Erwin took his mouth from Levi's neck, and leaned back, looking at Levi's eyes.

“Home?” Erwin asked in such a quiet whisper that he wasn't sure he had said it aloud. The fire in Levi's eyes died, and he shook his head, the pain and disappointment still obvious. Erwin sagged farther down into the bed, his head hitting the pillow like a brick. Levi leaned down, pressed kisses to his forehead, and his face. Erwin could only stare at nothing. “Where?” Levi didn't immediately answer, and Erwin was afraid that he already knew. That's why Levi was taking his time. Levi didn't want to say it. Erwin didn't want to hear it.

Levi framed Erwin's face with his hands, kissed him, apologizing beforehand. Erwin kissed back, wanting Levi not to say it. But Levi pulled back, looked at Erwin, took his hands away and settled them on either side, supporting himself.

“Ireland,” Levi said. All of the air in Erwin's lungs escaped, and his eyes watered so much that he couldn't even call it surprise response anymore. They were tears. Legitimate tears.

“Levi,” he gasped.

“I'm so fucking sorry, Erwin,” Levi said. He kissed Erwin's face, but Erwin pushed him away, hiding his face in his hands, trying to catch his breath. “I fucking tried. I swear that I did. The Russians first. I scared the shit out of them. The Chinese went offline shortly after. They probably burned everything they owned. The Irish were the only ones who would talk, Erwin.”

Erwin couldn't talk. But he didn't want to hide his eyes from the only person he had wanted to see. He  reached out, grabbed Levi, and pulled him close. They held onto each other. The flight was the next day. This was the last time they would see each other for a very long time. Much longer than eight months.

“I'm going home,” Erwin whispered. Levi shook his head.

“You can't yet,” Levi said. Erwin hid his face in the crook of Levi's neck. “I don't know if they'll ever stop looking, Erwin. I don't know.”

“How long?” Erwin asked. Levi didn't answer, and Erwin pulled away. He pushed Levi up, and Levi sat up on top of him, looking down at him.

“Five years,” Levi said. Erwin huffed a laugh. If he had known. Oh, if he had only known. He never would have started any of it.

“Five years with the IRA,” Erwin said.

“I tried, Erwin.”

“I know, Levi,” Erwin said, nodding. Of course Levi tried. He wanted Erwin back in the States almost as badly as Erwin wanted to go home. Maybe more.

“I tried to negotiate location. They don't trust their American partners to be your handler. They'll put you in a flat, put you in a house arrest anklet, and they'll let you go out once a week for groceries or whatever. I couldn't get anything else,” Levi said. “They wanted the Silk Road taken down but-”

“I can't do that.”

“I know. I told them. But I told them you could get them in it. They mostly do wholesale, but I reasoned with them, Erwin. They don't know anything about black hat, Erwin. As far as they're concerned, it's magic,” Levi said. Erwin nodded.

Most people didn't know a lot about black hat hacking. And if they didn't know anything about it, they could only think of treason. No one was hiring. If someone wanted black hat hacking, they learned it themselves. But the Irish Republican Army was old. They didn't have an online presence yet. The Original IRA had good intentions, but the group broke down eventually and went in different directions. Erwin would be working with the worst of them, focused on domestic terrorism and money. Erwin would help them go online with their endeavors. Work for protection.

When Erwin started the operation to get money fast, he knew that it would go wrong. It was illegal. It was immoral. It couldn't last forever. He came up with a plan. The plan was that if anything ever went wrong, if their activities were ever discovered, Erwin would take the fall. All possible evidence of any one else handling the money would be destroyed, and it would look like Erwin did the operation all by himself. He would flee the country. Hide in Mexico. Find protection in exchange for whatever he could do with a computer. Get employment in exchange for hiding, and some money if he was lucky. Then, when it seemed like he was in the clear, when the FBI went into a financial negative return on his case, he would go back to the United States.

Erwin had created the plan before he met Levi. And he knew that he would have to leave Levi behind.

“They're going to pay you,” Levi said, as if that made it any better. Levi laid down on top of Erwin pressing his ear against Erwin's chest to listen to his heartbeat.

“You'll have to tell me where to send it,” Erwin said.

“We're fine, Erwin,” Levi said. “We're going to be laundering money for years. Probably the entire time you're gone. Maybe longer. You took care of us. Mike and Nanaba are in Montana. Hange and Moblit when back to Portland.”

When the silence passed between them, Levi pressed his fingertips into the skin around Erwin's rib cage, asking for a response.

“I'm sorry,” Erwin said, his voice breaking only a little. Levi lifted his head, looked Erwin dead in the eye.

“Shut up,” Levi said.

“I'm sorry, Levi-”

“I said shut up.”

Erwin stared into Levi's eyes, burning like molten steel with anger. Levi hated it when Erwin sank into the guilt. But Erwin couldn't help it. He had made the mistake. Wells Fargo updated the security constantly, and it became more and more difficult to keep up with hiding the program. Humans needed sleep. Computer programs didn't. Moblit tried to help. But after a while, Moblit would wake Erwin up at all hours of the night asking for help. And fast. Levi said they should pull the plug, clear out the accounts. They had pulled so much money from the accounts that they couldn't keep it all in the house anymore. Erwin insisted it could work a little longer. He knew that when he pulled the program out of the Wells Fargo network, he's have to trash it. He had spent years creating it, and he wanted to get all of the use out of it possible before he had to destroy it.

He insisted they could go for a little longer. But they couldn't.

The FBI was on Erwin's ass so fast he almost didn't get out of the country. And he didn't get to say goodbye to the others. Levi demanded to go with him, but Erwin convinced him to stay behind and negotiate. Negotiate with anyone who would listen. Get him out of Mexico. Levi agreed.

Erwin ran his hands down Levi's bare arms, pressing his thumb into Levi's biceps. When he squeezed Levi's arms, the gray eyes finally softened.

“How am I going to get past the airline security?” Erwin asked. Every airline in the world could have his photo at that point. Levi could forge documents all day long for him, but they couldn't change the way he looked. Levi shook his head.

“Stop thinking,” Levi said. Erwin searched Levi's face for an explanation. How could they stop thinking? If they took time to stop at all, that could be the end. But he saw the desperation,  the reflection of his own loneliness that he had felt for eight months, in Levi's eyes.

Erwin nodded.

“Alright, Levi.”

Levi framed Erwin's face with his hands and leaned over him, pressing their lips together again. Erwin lifted his head from the pillow to meet him, too eager to wait, and he swore to himself that he would stop thinking. This was goodbye. He had to memorize the moment. Every breath. Each sound. Levi's unique smell.

Erwin closed his eyes tighter and opened his mouth when he felt Levi's tongue against his bottom lip. Rocking his hips up, Erwin heard the gasp deep in Levi's chest, and he smiled in the kiss. Levi smiled too, and then Levi had to break the kiss. He was laughing with relief, and Erwin laughed back. They paused, staring at each other in the light of lamp. Levi kept his hands near Erwin's face, memorizing it with his hands, pushing his fingers into Erwin's hair.

“Take off your boxers,” Levi said. He raised up on his knees and crawled out of the small bed. When Levi left, Erwin pushed the cotton sheets and quilt back. He hooked his thumbs in his boxers and pulled them off before he tossed them over the edge of the bed. Erwin didn't look down. He was half hard from kissing, and tt was too tempting to touch himself while he waited on Levi.

Erwin stared at the ceiling and listened to the sounds of Levi moving in the house. Hearing someone else, when there had been silence for so long felt foreign and welcome.

When he heard Levi's soft steps coming back into the bedroom, Erwin lifted his head and looked. Levi had a bottle of lube and a glove in one hand. His smart phone in the other hand. Erwin leaned his head back when he saw the piece of technology. He loved computers so much, but he had also let them ruin his life. A smart phone was just a smaller, easier to hack, version.

Levi stopped in the middle of the room and looked around. His eyes settled on the small nightstand. Walking over to the nightstand, Levi turned on the screen of the phone and began swiping and tapping. Erwin watched him, curious, still nervous. Levi pushed out the kick stand on his phone and set it down facing the bed. He leaned over and looked at the angle. Erwin understood then.

They had first bonded over porn. Now they were going to make it. He smiled up at Levi, and Levi looked down at him. A grin pulled up one side of his lips, and Erwin's cock jumped in response. He loved that look. Devious, and somehow with all of the affection that Levi could give.

“If I had known you would be so excited, I would've suggested we do this earlier,” Levi said. Erwin chuckled.

Levi tapped the screen, and he pulled one black latex glove onto his hand, leaving the other bare. He tossed the lube to the bed, and started pulling at his belt. Erwin watched, his face already flushing. Levi looked him in the eye while he, pulled off his belt, unzipped his jeans, and he pushed his underwear down with the denim. Then, he pulled off his socks.

Finally bare, Erwin could see that Levi's cock was already heavy and dripping. Levi crawled on top of the bed again, and settled between Erwin's legs. Erwin watched him, and he felt his eyes widen when Levi's head dropped.

The first lick against his cock felt so hot that a rough gasp wrenched from his chest.

“Fuck,” Erwin hissed. Levi cupped his balls, and Erwin pressed into his hand. When Levi's mouth wrapped around his head, Erwin's toes curled, and he groaned. It had been so long, too long. And no one had a mouth like Levi.

Levi sank his mouth down farther on Erwin's cock, until Erwin could feel the soft tissue in the back of Levi's throat. He purposely gagged himself, and Erwin moaned.

“Levi.”

Levi wasn't listening. He massaged Erwin's balls a few times before he actually started sucking his cock. Erwin bucked up from the bed, and he pressed his hands against the old headboard of the bed. Digging his heels into the mattress, trying to stop himself from lifting his hips again, Erwin shuddered.

Then, Levi pressed his tongue against the underside of Erwin's cock and dragged it up, applying as much pressure as he could. Erwin couldn't catch his breath. He could feel his chest rising sharply only to release trembling breaths.

Levi took his mouth away from Erwin and used his bare hand to stroke him, spreading saliva over his cock. Erwin allowed himself to squirm, and he lifted his head from the pillow. When he looked down at Levi, Levi was smiling at him. It wasn't devious anymore. Only appreciative.

“Gorgeous,” Levi muttered. “I've been thinking about you like this. All this time.” Erwin took a breath and his chest shuddered. He bit his bottom lip to keep from clenching his teeth. “How red your cock is when you're hard.” Erwin bent his knees, trying to keep from bucking off the bed. “The way you bite your bottom lip.” Erwin groaned. He hadn't heard Levi talk that way before. Levi increased the speed of his strokes, and Erwin let his head drop back to the pillow, dragging his fingernails against the headboard. His legs shook so hard that the bed rattled. He felt like all of the heat in his body was rushing to his cock, and he knew that he would come if Levi kept going. Levi didn't seem to want to stop. “Are you ready?” Levi asked. Erwin could only manage a whimper and and a nod.

Levi took his hand away. It was so sudden that it almost hurt, and Erwin's knees gave out, his legs crashing back to the bed under him. Erwin gasped for air. He had stopped breathing for a few moments.

“Roll over,” Levi said. He leaned back to give Erwin enough room to do it, but Erwin needed a minute.

He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling. The safe house seemed so much better with Levi around, and Erwin smiled. Levi patted his thigh, telling him to get moving. Erwin leaned up in bed and rolled over, careful not to accidentally kick Levi out of the small bed.

Resting on his stomach, Erwin grinded his cock down into the bed. Then, he felt Levi move up between his legs, and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, released it trying to relax. Levi settled his cock against Erwin's ass and dragged it against Erwin's skin.

“That's for you,” Levi whispered. Erwin squeezed his eyes shut tightly and turned his head into the pillow. He raised his hips, pressing against Levi, asking for more. Levi's bare hand grabbed one of his cheeks and squeezed. “I missed this.” He thought he heard Levi gasp. “Erwin.” Erwin nodded into the pillow, encouraging him to keep going. Levi leaned back.

Erwin heard the top of the lube bottle pop. He clenched, sheer anticipation. But he turned his head from the pillow and took another breath. When he exhaled, he focused on relaxing his muscles from his toes to his shoulders.

Then, he felt one slick digit against his opening. Erwin's mouth fell open, and his eyebrows furrowed. He wanted it. Even pressed back towards it. Levi pushed forward. With the first press, Levi found Erwin's prostate and circled his finger against it. Erwin buried his face into the pillow and practically growled, lifting his hips from the bed and pressing against Levi's hand.

He felt Levi's bare hand against his hip, gently pressing him down.

“Be good for me, baby,” Levi whispered. Erwin lowered his hips against the bed and whined into the pillow when his cock dragged against the sheets. When his hips were firmly on the bed again, Levi began moving his finger again. This time, he was circling faster, and Erwin couldn't stop moving. He moved his hips with the motion, and Levi seemed to encourage it.

Levi stopped moving his finger, and Erwin winced. He missed the motion. But he felt another finger tip against his hole, and he waited patiently, focusing on being relaxed. The second finger took more time, but Erwin stayed still. If Levi wasn't moving, he didn't want to move either.

With the second finger in place, Levi curled his fingers, and Erwin almost bent his knees, seeking more. Levi put a hand against the small of his back, and kept him down, moving his fingers inside of Erwin faster.

“I don't ever remember  you moving this much,” Levi said. Erwin couldn't hear him. He was too busy moaning into the pillow, biting the fabric, making a wet spot from the drool he couldn't swallow. After only a few more moments of curling his fingers, Levi spread his fingers out, stretching him. Erwin felt the first hint of burn, but he just leaned into it anyway. He liked the burn.

Levi added another finger so abruptly that Erwin lost his breath. He lifted his head from the pillow and automatically looked over to the camera of the phone. He could imagine how flushed and breathless he looked. Hair a mess. He wanted Levi to see him that way.

Levi didn't take long to start spreading all three fingers in Erwin, and he stopped taking his time. The desperation was too much. But when Levi tried to pull his hand back, Erwin was clenching too tightly. Levi curled his fingers against Erwin's prostate again until Erwin was loose and pliable again.

“That's it, Erwin,” Levi whispered. He pulled his fingers out easily.

Quickly, Levi pulled the glove off, inside out, and tossed it to the side of the bed. He opened the lube bottle and spread plenty of it over his cock, so much that he saw it drip to the sheets. Levi's eyes went back to Erwin, who was still writhing, waiting on him.

“Lift up and show the camera your cock,” Levi said. He watched when Erwin lifted his hips from the bed, putting his weight on his forearms. Levi leaned over and looked at Erwin cock. Swollen, flushed a deep red, and absolutely soaked at the tip. Levi reached around and wrapped his hand around Erwin's tip, feeling of the precome, spreading it around. Erwin gasped and held his breath while Levi touched him.

Levi looked to Erwin's face, which was fully concentrated on not coming.

“Lay back down,” Levi said when he took his hand away. Erwin laid back down, practically melted into the mattress, and pressed his face into the pillow.

As soon as he was back down on the bed, Erwin felt the head of Levi's cock against his hole. He took another breath, relaxed, and he felt Levi press inside of him. The first pass missed his prostate, but Levi did that purposely.

When he felt Levi sink into him to the base, Erwin bit the pillow and groaned into the cotton.

“Erwin,” Levi breathed. Then, he pulled out, dragged his head against Erwin's prostate before he pressed in again. Erwin felt the heat spread under him on the bed, and he wondered just how much he had soaked the sheets. Levi lost all patience, and Erwin teeth released the pillow. He couldn't stop the sounds pouring from him mouth. Levi put his hands on Erwin's back and dragged his nails down the skin, leaving red welts. Erwin's face lifted from the pillow.

“Fuck, Levi,” Erwin breathed.

“I love it when you say that,” Levi said before he grabbed Erwin's hips. Levi increased the pace, groaned loudly enough that it filled the room. Erwin would have said it again, but he couldn't.

The bed was shaking too hard, and with every thrust, Erwin's cock was pressed down into the sheets. Erwin pushed the pillow out the way, laid his head on the mattress, and lifted his hips to meet Levi. The frantic rhythm began, and Erwin didn't try to stop himself when he felt the need. He froze under Levi, involuntarily trembling, trying to curse and failing, when he felt the wet heat spread under him on the sheet. He said Levi's name again, but he barely had the breath to make the full sound.

Levi pressed down into him harder. Erwin opened his eyes, couldn't see straight, shut them again, waiting for what he wanted most. Levi's pace slowed down, shuddering on top of him, and Erwin felt Levi come. He memorized the sound, the breath followed by a deep groan, and gasping for air. The bed shook when Levi dropped his hands down to either side of Erwin to catch himself.

Erwin smiled, content with all of it. All of it was worth it. He felt Levi slowly lower himself, pressing his forehead against Erwin's spine and resting. Obsessively, Erwin counted every heavy breath that Levi released against his back, trying to capture the moment in any way possible. Erwin opened his eyes again and could see a little better. Levi pressed his forehead into Erwin's back a bit harder, and Erwin wasn't sure what to think of that. Normally, Levi didn't show a lot of affection afterwards.

Erwin reached up behind himself and felt for Levi's hair. Reaching for Levi's hair was too far, but Levi must have felt him move, because he felt Levi's fingers lacing with his own. He found Levi's thumb and stroked it with his own. Levi tightened the hold of their hands, and Erwin winced. The extra touches, the hand holding, it all felt like goodbye.

Levi leaned up, breaking their handhold, and pulling his hips back. When Erwin felt Levi pull out, he looked back at him.  Levi tapped Erwin's leg, telling him to move it. Erwin picked up his leg, rolled over on his side, and Levi moved up further in the bed. Erwin furrowed his eyebrows with curiosity when Levi didn't immediately run to the bathroom to clean up. That wasn't usual. Levi laid down on his side facing Erwin. The bed wasn't big enough to lay on their backs. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as the king sized bed their old home, which was now property of the FBI. Levi pulled him close, and Erwin put his face in the crook of Levi's neck again, opening his mouth to press kisses against Levi's skin. Then, he felt Levi plant kisses in his hair, and Erwin's heart ached. Erwin wrapped one arm around Levi's waist and pulled him as close as possible.

Erwin wanted to suspend the moment. He could be perfectly happy to lay in that bed, filthy and wet, for the rest of his life if it meant that they didn't have to be apart.

Levi leaned back and pressed kisses to every part of Erwin's face. Erwin laid in place, not used to that type of attention. He even leaned back with some uncertainty. But Levi held onto him, planting more kisses on his skin. Suddenly, he stopped.

“Look at me,” Levi said. He didn't take his hands away. Erwin looked into Levi's eyes, and he saw something that he hadn't expected or wanted. Levi was never afraid of anything. And he was hardly ever worried. But Erwin saw what he imagined was as close to fear as Levi could ever feel. Levi's eyes scanned Erwin's face, and Erwin knew that Levi was taking some kind of final look.

That's when Levi remembered that his phone was still recording. He rolled over a bit, reached behind him, and grabbed the phone. He stopped the recording and put the phone back down on the nightstand.

When Levi turned his attention back to Erwin, the fear had gone away and the determination had come back.

“Erwin,” Levi said. “Do you trust me?” Erwin furrowed his eyebrows.

“More than anyone,” Erwin said. He meant it. He trusted Levi more than Mike. More than his own father. Levi nodded, the concern faded in and out of his face.

“Our flight is in five hours.”

“Our flight?” Erwin asked.

“I'm going with you,” Levi said.

“Le-”

“Listen,” Levi said. “You're going to be over there for five years. They'll give you two weeks off work a year. No days off, just those two weeks out of the year. One around Easter. One around Christmas.”

“Why are you going with me?”

“Because during those two weeks out of the year. We're going to see each other at least once,” Levi said. Erwin's face brightened, and he grabbed Levi again. “Wait, Erwin. Wait.” Erwin didn't listen. He pulled Levi to him and pressed kisses against Levi's neck. “Listen to me,” Levi said softly. Erwin leaned back and looked at Levi again.

“I'm listening.”

“At this point, all of the airlines have your picture I.D,” Levi said. Erwin nodded. So that meant he would have to travel some other way. Levi may have arranged for a big wooden box for him to fly in cargo, like in movies. But he still saw that deep concern in Levi's face.

“We'll make it, Levi,” Erwin said.“Whatever you've planned will work.”

“I know,” Levi said. He swallowed so heavily that Erwin saw his throat move. “If we're leaving in five hours, I need to go ahead and break your face.” Erwin felt his expression fall into complete neutrality. It was something that he and Levi both did when they were greeted with news that was less than favorable. “I'm going to break your nose, but I'll break it in a way that we can put it back in place. We'll splint it here. I've got everything I need. I made your photo I.D. really fucking hideous, and the cover is that you had really bad, cheap plastic surgery down here,” Levi said. He looked at Erwin's hair which hadn't been cut in over eight months. “You won't look anything like yourself. I need to break your nose and black your eyes.” Levi's gaze dropped back down to Erwin's eyes. “I bought you some pain pills. I need you to be conscious for the flight, but I'll try to make you comfortable.” Erwin nodded.

He realized that's where the worry in Levi's eyes had come from. Levi didn't want to hurt him. And Erwin hated that Levi had to be the one to do it. If Erwin tried to do it himself, the results would be unpredictable. In fact, if he did it himself, he knew for a fact that he would do it wrong. If Levi broke his nose and reset it, then there was a good chance that he would look normal again once he healed. There might be a permanent bump in his nose, but if that was all it took to gain eventual freedom, it was an inexpensive trade.

“Levi,” Erwin said. Levi's body stiffened against him. Ready to hear the worst, Erwin guessed. The look in Levi's eyes softened. “If this is too much, I'll just go and turn myself-”

“Do not finish that fucking sentence,” Levi said. “You're staying with me. I'm not spending half of my life in a federal prison waiting room.”

At first, Erwin wanted to argue. He didn't like the way that Levi talked about waiting on him if he went to prison. Levi could easily find a new partner. He could find someone who wasn't a criminal. Someone who didn't even know how to use a computer beyond Facebook and Googling recipes. Levi could find someone that didn't sign up to work for a terrorist organization for five years. But he also knew that Levi wasn't like other people. Levi's entire world was in his mind and in a computer. He rarely ever let anyone close to him. Even though he had lived in a house with five other people, Levi didn't allow anyone to get intimately close with him besides Erwin. For the first few weeks after he moved in, he avoided Mike and Nanaba, Hange and Moblit, completely.

But Levi allowed Erwin to get close. He let Erwin touch him. He let Erwin see him angry. Levi eventually started sleeping in Erwin's room. Erwin had even seen Levi weep once. Levi slowly started wearing less clothes around Erwin, starting with his socks, then shirts, then pants, finally naked after months. And Erwin never asked. He never pushed. Levi led the pace, and Erwin matched it.

The first night they fucked couldn't have been called making love. But it was no less ethereal for Erwin. The image of Levi's body in low light, much dimmer than the light in the safe house, was burned into Erwin's brain. He thought of Levi that way every day. Levi let Erwin see and have everything.

And Erwin didn't want to give Levi away.  

“You're my one,” Erwin said. There wasn't a beat of hesitation before Levi leaned in and pressed his lips to Erwin's. Erwin pressed back, pulling Levi closer to him. Levi broke the kiss, didn't lean back far and whispered against Erwin's mouth.

“You're my one.”

Erwin leaned forward and kissed him again, pushing his hands into Levi's hair, basking in the familiarity.

Erwin knew that he loved Levi the first time Levi offered to edit his bank hacking code to make it more random and harder to track. Erwin couldn't deny the swimming feeling in his head, the warmth in chest, the tingling in his cock as anything but love.

But he didn't know when Levi started loving him. Maybe Levi had loved the first time he had seen Erwin on a webcam, but it seemed too soon. It might have started when Levi saw what Erwin was doing and admired the work instead of turning him in to the authorities. For a while, Erwin thought it had started after they fucked the first time, but that seemed cliché, so unlike Levi. Erwin wished he knew when Levi started loving him. He guessed that Levi might not have known when it happened either.

Just before Erwin crossed the border to Mexico, Levi had kissed him and said: “You're my one.” Erwin knew what it meant the moment that Levi said it. So he repeated the phrase and kissed Levi one more time. The words meant more than love. They meant love and trust and loyalty. They were a commitment to hold onto each other through the crazy, illegal shit they did together as tightly as they could. An unspoken promise that Erwin would turn himself in if Levi ever got tired of running, and Levi be with him even if that meant a federal prison, as a civilian or an inmate, it didn't matter. Their crimes had created a tighter bond than any wedding band.

Even if they never said the words, Erwin knew that Levi loved him. Levi loved him enough to break his face.

[365-money-diary]

DAYS 29 - 35

DAY TWENTY-NINE

9:15 AM - I arrive at work and prepare my usual - a slice of toast with earth balance and an iced toddy.

11:00 AM - I get notifications that I can confirm my PayPal link to Simple! So excited. I get everything squared away, but now PayPal is making me confirm my identity through photos. #NOTSIMPLE

12:30 PM - Woah! I need to eat. I take the long way to Sprouts and buy a bunch of clementines and catch some Pokemon along the way. I pair this with my broth soup stuff. I’ll probably eat this all week. $3.03

1:18 PM - I wish I brought a Gatorade from home. Day’s close to over though so we’ll see how the next 2-3 hours go.

5:40 PM - Gatorade time! I eat a couple bites of leftover thai sweet potato spiralized concoction before heading to meet a friend at Cornish Pasty in Phoenix.

6:45 PM - I meet my friend. He was in a tight bind a couple weeks ago so I lent him $100. Tonight he pays me back and treats me to dinner. I get the vegan BBQ pasty and a soda water. We catch up for a couple hours and then I head home.

9:30 PM - My boyfriend is at a show (attending, not working), so I take advantage of his absence and binge on Kardashians.

DAY TWENTY-NINE TOTAL: $3.03

DAY THIRTY

8:50 AM - Boyfriend offers to buy me Cartel on my way to work. He knows I won’t pay for it myself Monday - Friday because I’m trying to save money. I gladly accept. The barista gives it to us for free anyways not complaining here!

9:00 AM - We chat with Paul the roaster for a little bit and run into an old colleague of mine they hired to head their wholesale department. We dip quickly because now we’re both late.

9:30 AM - Whoops sorry boss. We’re on salary and technically he doesn’t care, but I still feel bad. I make myself a slice of toast to complement my toddy and start my day.

12:30 PM - My colleagues bring in lunch from Even Stevens. I am beyond jealous but I’m sticking to my soup and clementines. Lord knows I need to after blowing a ton of dough on records the previous two weeks.

5:30 PM - We watch the playoffs. Celtics win against the Wizards in overtime and GSW destroys the Jazz.

8:30 PM - We order d.p. Dough for dinner. It takes almost an hour for it to arrive. I get a calzone with vegan cheese, spinach, olives, garlic and onion. He gets a plain cheese calzone and some breadsticks. I cover the tab and tip. $23.90

9:30 PM - We watch LOVE season 2 while we eat. I even watch a couple episodes afterwards.

DAY THIRTY TOTAL: $23.90

DAY THIRTY-ONE

8:45 AM - I grab the rest of that leftover thai peanut sweet potato stuff -- I know my boyfriend won’t eat leftovers that are over 3 days old unless it’s pizza and head into the office.

9:05: AM - I arrive at work and toast my bread and pour my toddy. The office cleaning lady is here and she already did my office. I have a lot of work to do today so I bury myself in my office as soon as she’s done and start plugging away.

11:55 AM - Google’s having server upload issues so my work is halted. The next task I have takes over an hour, so I decide to heat up my sweet potato stuff for lunch before moving on to the next thing.

3:00 PM - I finish my last task and browse pinterest recipes before going back to my last task. I send it to my boyfriend for his approval. He gives it a thumbs up and I make a grocery list. Ok! Now back to work!

4:15 PM - I finish about 60% of what I wanted to do today, but am thankful I have nothing urgent tomorrow so I can take care of it then. My dad texts us that Mom’s Mother’s Day present came in the mail (It’s a Veggie Bullet - My idea!). I get his PayPal address and send him my share. Also, I eat two clementines. $35

4:45 PM - I stop at Sprouts by my work and buy sweet potatoes, cilantro, chipotle peppers, cilantro, corn, black beans, kale, spinach, one orange, two limes, pepitas, and a red onion. $13.93

5:30 PM - I make chipotle sweet potato salad with all the ingredients listed above for me and my boyfriend. I love my new spiralizer attachment!

7:00 PM - We watch the Rockets vs. Spurs game while we eat, but neither of us really like the Spurs so we’re only half invested.

8:00 PM - We head to AZ Mills. We do a full lap today - boyfriend finds a rad pair of Jordans and I buy a shirt from the adidas outlet. Annoyed that it’s not more deeply discounted, but there are only three left and I really like it!  $24.37

9:30 PM - We spend the rest of the evening watching basketball reruns and working on stuff.

DAY THIRTY-ONE TOTAL: $73.30

DAY THIRTY-TWO

8:45 AM - Happy birthday to my boyfriend! I treat him to coffee at Cartel before we both bounce off to work. The barista ends up giving it to us for free. I only have a buck on me so I throw it in the tip jar. $1

9:30 AM - It’s just me and my assistant today at work. We chat for a while while I eat toast and then I start plugging away.

12:00 PM - Usually when our boss is out of town, we slack off within reason. Today I don’t want to eat the food I brought and my assistant is without lunch, so we hit up In N Out. I get well done fries, a veggie burg with no spread and a couple more modifications, and a pink lemonade. $5.46

5:00 PM - My urinary symptoms are getting worse over the past two days and the only thing I can tie it to is not eating that veggie broth soup stuff. I am frustrated and sad, but not discouraged. I eat a bowl of it as soon as I get home and pop some more Azo.

6:30 PM - We head downtown to meet our friends who hook us up with Suns tickets to see Christina Pazsitzky perform at Stand Up Live. We both order two Pellegrinos to meet our two drink minimum. I cover the tab and tip. $29.98

10:15 PM - We are both starving since neither of us ate before the show. Since it’s my boyfriend’s birthday we decide to sit down somewhere and grub rather than pick up shitty food. I treat us to Cornish Pasty. I get a garden salad with mock chicken and we split an order of oven chips. Friend hooks us up with a discount, but I tip generously. $27.86

DAY THIRTY-TWO TOTAL: $64.30

DAY THIRTY-THREE

8:45 AM - It’s Cinco De Mayo - a holiday no one celebrates except Americans, but my assistant and I made plans to get tacos at Salty Senorita for lunch so I pack veggie soup for ...breakfast?

9:15 AM - It’s really not that bad.

10:45 AM - I get a text from my boyfriend saying that he drove to Chandler to buy these shoes that came out today but the store didn’t even get a shipment.

11:15 AM - My other colleague has been working from home for a few days due to some of her own medical probs. We chat about broth and since she’s been having candida problems too, I offer to cook double the amount of broth for the two of us next time I make it and she can go halfsies on it with me. This idea is AMAZING because I was annoyed by the cost of the stuff and now it will be a lot cheaper for both of us!

12:00 PM - My boyfriend calls feeling distraught. I feel bad because he’s working a 16 hour day today. I advise him to take a deep breath and take a five minute break and treat himself to something nice, then recenter, and go about his day.

12:30 PM - My colleague and I leave for lunch. We stop at Fashion Square on the way and drop in House of Hoops. They have both shoes that came out today but I can’t remember which ones he wanted. I call him even though it was going to be a surprise and he tells me he spent the five minutes to treat himself going by going to AZ Mills and buying them there. We laugh about it and I apologize to the guy helping me out.

12:45 PM - Salty Senorita! I get a veggie bowl, a side of tortillas, and chips and salsa to share. $15

3:30 PM - Inspired by my colleague’s vigor to try the veggie broth, I head to Sprouts to buy supplies. I’m pleased to find they sell everything I need except seaweed. My colleague will pay me for half the costs. $43.11

4:00 PM - I head to Whole Foods to get wakame seaweed. I also buy a little probiotic coconut drink, probiotic cheese, and a juice for my boyfriend. $30.02

5:00 PM - I jump right in and make broth. My boyfriend and I chat for a while while he watches basketball and then he heads back to work.

7:00 PM - I do a bunch of Googling to figure out if I can make this broth any cheaper. I remember a bulk site for buying herbs and spices and also discover they sell wakame seaweed on Amazon for $2 less than Whole Paycheck.

7:30 PM - Assuming I’m going to make this every two-three weeks, I’ve gotta get a plan in action to save money while doing this. Since one batch basically calls for an entire bottle of turmeric, I buy two pounds of it off of Amazon as well as 10 packages of wakame seaweed. $54

8:00 PM - It’s NY Friend’s last night in town. We thought it would be silly to go to a sports bar so he could watch baseball and I could watch basketball. We decide on Doc & Eddy’s. I’m not drinking, but I can’t really resist. I get a jalapeno mule and drink half of it and an order of chips and salsa to share. NY Friend picks up most of my tab since I’m dropping him off at the airport. I throw in some cash just to help. $5

10:30 PM - I drop off NY Friend. Boyfriend is done working and we meet each other at home, watch more basketball reruns and fall asleep.

DAY THIRTY-THREE TOTAL: $147.13

DAY THIRTY-FOUR

9:30 AM - I wake up and start portioning and seasoning the broth. I let it cool overnight so I don’t burn myself. The kitchen stinks!

10:30 PM - My boyfriend grabs us coffee since I’m knee deep in cleaning. When he comes home, he lights some candles. Katy is mesmerized by them. Come to think of it, I don’t thinkshe’s ever seen a candle before!

11:00 PM - I finally remember to verify my PayPal account so I can move money into #NOTSIMPLE. They’re not fucking around here! I upload my social security card, my ID, and a utility bill to verify my info.

11:20 PM - My boyfriend says I look like a homeless person and after catching a glimpse myself, I can’t argue. I hop in the shower to get all clean.

11:50 PM - I feel so much better. I have a stack of records that have arrived over the past week that I need to dig into, with a burst of energy, I start unboxing.

12:30 PM - Unboxing finished! Happy to know that all but three records came. I still have today’s mail, but all three are international, so I’m not banking on it. I make a small bowl of spiralized sweet potato salad to munch on with a La Croix. (Been drinking it since I was a child, so fuck you fellow millennials.) Sidenote: I drink La Criox and Gatorade way more than I probably document, but I try my hardest to make sure I include it.

1:00 PM - We go to AZ Mills. Boyfriend finds a couple shirts. I have been pretty disgusted by my past 2-3 weeks of spendage so I’m cool with this.

2:30 PM - Boyfriend scoots off to work and I make myself lunch a few veggie spring rolls and some edamame noodles in peanut sauce. It’s pretty gross so I only eat half of it. Oh well.

5:00 PM - I finish my playlist and it’s actually 4.5 hours long! I have to do 20 minutes on my laptop to make up for the stuff that didn’t come in the mail. I don’t usually rely on torrents for DJing, so I download three tracks off from iTunes and one from Amazon. I am pretty sure the Amazon one accidentally gets charged to my parents’ card. Whoops. $3

6:00 PM - I decide I want a smoothie for dinner so I run to Sprouts to grab a pouch of protein powder and a banana. $4.34

7:30 PM - A+ smoothie. I look at Amazon to see how much the powder costs in a big jug and it’s like $44. I like the concept, but I don’t feel like I can commit at that price.

8:00 PM - I make my way downtown to watch Tim Kasher play at Valley Bar and stop at QT for gas along the way. One of the perks of having a boyfriend who works for a concert promoter is a permanent guest list spot. We watch some of the show together and at some point he ditches me to work. $23.93

11:00 PM - I’m home! Boyfriend calls shortly after I arrive and is already done working. We have an argument on his drive home over the phone.

DAY THIRTY-FOUR TOTAL: $35.61

DAY THIRTY-FIVE

9:30 AM - I wake up and we’re still arguing. It takes us a while to sort things out, by the time we do, we’re both starving.

12:00 PM - We head to Four Peaks, but stop at State Bicycle Shop along the way. My boyfriend has been needing a new bike for awhile now. He pulls the trigger on a cute co-branded Simpsons bike, we throw it in my Civic and head to lunch.

12:45 PM - Lunch is really nice. There isn’t much for me to eat here, but I came prepared. I order a soda water and a kale salad modified to be vegan and bring my own salad dressing. Boyfriend covers the tab.

2:00 PM - We arrive at home and I decide this is the prime time for me to drink my broth. While I do that, I check PayPal to see that all my info has been verified. I order $500 to be transfered from my checking to PayPal and then will transfer this to #NOTSIMPLE

We’re both pretty wiped from not being able to sleep on account of our conversation, so we pass out for a while. Sunday naps are the best.

5:00 PM - My alarm goes off. I’m super groggy but peel myself out of bed and munch on some chips and hummus.

5:30 PM - I haven’t had coffee today. I spend a really long time debating whether I should walk or drive to Cartel and just end up driving.

5:35 PM - Friend is working and hooks it up. I talk to her for a while and feel good about my decision to drive.

8:00 PM - I leave the house and head to Valley Bar. I am pretty anxious / I wish my boyfriend still bought stress gummies.

9:00 PM - It’s game time. I plow through my set and get really great feedback. I drink soda water for the entire night and order a veggie sandwich from the bar which gets comped.

1:30 AM - My set is over and I get paid! $125 which I’m more than cool with. I hope they ask me to do it again soon so I can continue to offset my investment over the past couple weeks.

DAY THIRTY-FIVE TOTAL: $0