#and then i lost my job and months of unemployment is the WORST kind of isolation so i pulled teddy gene out of storage again

[freebooter4ever]

sometimes i forget that people new here probably don't know teddy's name so missed the irony of this. back in 2020 i named him eugene. and this hockey season i put a r*angers jersey on Eugene. cause i think im funny. ive also started to worry that i pushed my luck and criss crossed my loyalties too much and now both teams are backsliding ;_; but Teddy Gene has been sporting this jersey since the start of the season so i dont think its his fault. both teams have back to back games starting tomorrow before the break and im Concerned :(

[thewolfatmydoor]

Second time lucky after tumblr ate my post halfway through writing it.

I didn't think this was ever something I would do, and not because I don't feel like people shouldn't ask for help if they need it, but because mostly my brain hates me and will tell me that I'm alone and should struggle through alone because why would anybody want to help me. I'm not big in fandom. I don't post often. My anxiety gets the better of me most of the time.

But, if people need me I will be there for them. In whatever capacity I'm able to at the time.

I'm not saying this next bit to try and make people help me. I know how much everyone is struggling at the minute. But a few years ago I helped a couple of people in fandome out financially when they needed help, and I did that because at the time I was able to help them financially. I had the means to and was happy to do so without any expectations of receiving anything in return.

And that was fine. But then covid hit me hard. I don't think I was close to dying, even though it sure felt like it, but it has played havoc with me since catching it in Feb of 2021. My health has declined and I have been in and out of hospital for tests, and my mental health is pretty much in the gutter everyday. Some days are better than others but most are terrible mental health wise.

I have also gone through a tough period with my work. I took what seemed like the perfect opportunity for me at a new workplace and it was possibly one of the worst decisions I've made. Since then I have had a period of unemployment, and a job where the management were actively bullying their staff and because I wanted no part of it and stood up for the staff against the management I put myself in the firing line and was bullied myself till I made the decision to leave when a position opened up at my original workplace. All of this has resulted in me losing a chunk of money each month as I have had to take a paycut, whilst the cost of living has and continues to increase dramatically (hence me understanding we are all struggling). My tax codes have been all over the place as well and that won't get sorted until May.

Needless to say it has been a struggle where I have lost friends, health, mental health, and a lot of hope for any kind of future going forwards. So I am now reaching out for a bit of help to get me through the next few months.

If anybody is able and willing to help that would be amazing, but I do understand that this may not be a possibility. But if anybody is able to help my cashapp is £echosheart (that has to be the pound symbol £ as I'm in the UK) and my ko-fi is ko-fi.com/thewolfatmydoor

I also paint and write so would be happy to do some art or write something for any of you if you would like that.

So anyway. Thank you for reading all this, I really appreciate it.

[fallenhero-rebirth]

Brain update

First, let me say that this isn't about what anybody has done. My reactions are not in proportion to anything that has happened, and might be considered odd, weird and sensitive to people involved.

So let me explain.

I'm an Aspie (what we call ourselves in Sweden), on the autism spectrum. Yeah, might have guessed that from the story I'm writing, Sidestep is not the only one trying to figure out how people work.

Over the years I have built up an arsenal of knowledge and analysis to be able to pretend to be neurotypical, something that I can manage alright most days, but which breaks down once you get to know me better. I'm open with this at my current job, and luckily both my bosses seem to be okay dealing with open communication and just telling me what I need to do.

It was not always like this, and that is one of the reasons why I had a breakdown and needed to get off discord/tumblr.

Back in the late nineties, I had finally got my dream job. I was a product developer in the food industry, part of a rather small department of middle-class academics. I was the new hire, everyone else had worked there for years, and things were going well. Or so I assumed. I got cool projects, got along well with one of the sales people, and well, my boss was weird but bosses always are.

Three years later. Our parent company wanted to sell us off, everyone was starting to get worried about their job. We tried to expand into things were weren't equipped to do (you don't bring spices into a fruit jam line, will be hell to clean) and while I did the projects, I also raised an (in retrospect) too big stink about the fact that we were wasting time developing things we couldn't produce without expanding. My boss (who I had learned was a devout christian) started to get really weird, I got called in and he wondered if I was a member of a cult (I was often wearing a headscarf at the time because pressure on my head is good for stress relief). I also got told off for wearing army boots to work (we had lab shoes in the lab), because (I kid you not) if we had danish visitors to the lab (we didn't have visitors) they could be offended since they had once been occupied by Nazis. Yes, at the time I was an Antifa metalhead/satanist, it was a very volatile time in sweden and nazis were everywhere. Now they're a political party, go figure.

It all came to a head when I was confronted with a folder one of the secretaries of the department had where she had written down every odd and strange thing that I did, and there were a lot of accusations of things I quite frankly blocked out. Around this time I was suffering from bad burnout, had memory loss, my hair was falling out and I lost two bikes because I forgot where I parked them. All because of workplace hostility.

So for the first time ever, I went to the company doctor, who immediately sent me on a one month sick leave, and gave a reference to a therapist. When I went and told my boss, his reaction was "It can't be anything at work," in a dismissive tone. I wrote my resignation right then and there, left the building, snuck back a Saturday to clean out my stuff so I didn't have to meet anyone. Luckily I was backed up by my union, so I got unemployment despite quitting, and the therapist helped me get back on my feet and hook me up with some antidepressants.

Still, I was a wreck for years.

At the time, I had NO idea I was an Aspie. It weren't talked about, the only thing I knew about Autism, was from the various portrayals in movies, and well, in the nineties you can guess. Rainman pretty much was it.

What destroyed me the most was not that people disliked me, I didn't like them either, we didn't have anything in common, and middle-class people always scared me. No, what broke me was the fact that my system failed.

See, I had built up myself over ten years into someone I wanted to be. Smart. Capable. Metalhead. Researcher. Activist. I thought I knew the rules. How to interact.

It turned out I knew nothing. People had been talking behind my back for years, and I didn't know. Getting annoyed by my ticks, and I had no idea. Nobody ever brought anything up to my face until it exploded one day out of the blue. This is why I have ranted about anons on this tumblr. This is why I have been so openly against passive aggressive posts and bullying, especially the anonymous kind, because it destroys people and I don't think the people who does it knows the impact they can have. I hope they don't.

I have never gone back to the lab. I can't. I'm having heart palpitations just thinking about it when I'm writing this. I retrained. Became a machinist. Back to the working class I came from. Eventually started writing.

And this is exactly what these last months have felt like.

I thought I understood things. I was pretty open with being old, an Aspie, not understanding memes, or humor, or tik tok, or certain aspects of people's behavior like jealousy, but the problem with joking about this is that it's so easy to take as just a joke. That I'm just making fun of myself (oh it's that too). I got advice from some of you, which I ignored, because I thought that I could be different. That there was no danger in getting close. That I could be just another voice in the crowd. An occasionally evil avocado. That this couldn't blow up in my face, that everything was cool.

And then it did. And I was wrong. And the talking started, and things were coming out that I had no idea that was going on. That I was being held responsible for. Opinions that were spoken in my name. Events I was supposed to have been aware of and supported. All of a sudden I was omniscient, aware of the true passive aggressive meaning of every reblog, aware of every post in every room in the discord I wasn't even running. Wasn't even a mod on. All of a sudden I had power, and I had used it to hurt people. The people I cared about. Everything I wrote was taken in the worst possible way, twisted into things I never meant, and the more I tried to talk to people, the worse it went.

Look. I know this was at heart a war between people that just doesn't like each other and the things they do/the ways they behave. I'm still not entirely sure who's been involved, and I'm not interested in finding out. I tried to build a supportive space, reblog everyone's art and fics, encourage people to make their own things, get a kofi, get some money, make some friends.

And herein lies my problem.

I thought I understood how to be, and now I don't. I have no idea who hates my guts and who doesn't (well, except some who has very vocally let me know). I can't trust anything. I can't trust anyone. And it sucks. Someone I trusted stabbed be in the back because they were convinced I stabbed them in the back and that sucks more than I can describe. Every time I make a comment on AO3 or twitter it's after psyching myself up for half an hour, and I'm usually a wreck afterwards, because my brain doesn't know if they hate me too, and if I am imposing on them and making their day bad.

So yeah. I need to figure out how to be. How not to have a nausea attack every time I accidentally click open tumblr from pure reflex, looking away from the screen just not to see how may messages I have.

I never wanted to be the aloof author, but maybe I have to be. The question is if I can. I have been told I can't comment on pics or fics, because then I have favorites. And that makes people jealous. And it makes people think I take sides. I have been told I can't be on the discord, because then I will be held responsible for what the mods do there, and everything that's said even when I'm not around. I should apparently have someone manage the tumblr, it's not something that I, an author should do.

I now understand the authors who just stay away and remain distant, because people give themselves the power to write the narrative for you.

Part of me wants to tell people what I've told my current bosses, don't assume, just talk to me. I don't pick up/do passive aggression, I don't understand hints, I have trouble with nuance, I don't listen to gossip, I don't interact enough to know anything that's going on. Just ask before assuming.

Except that right now I can't. I can't talk about any of this. It's too close. It sets me off. It's getting better, sure, I'm on medication again, but the smallest thing still can ruin my entire day. I have no idea how long it will take me to recover and come back to some semblance of normality. I'm not posting this myself (my partner does). Writing is going well, because it lets me not be myself. I need those walls again. The therapy of writing about pain.

I'll rebuild them. I'm not entirely sure who I'll be on the other end of it. We'll see.

I have consciously not spoken about any details because those could be misunderstood, this is not a passive aggressive callout to anybody. I have no hard feelings towards anyone, I am not angry or upset, just confused and sad. I am truly so very, very, very sorry that I've hurt people, both by action and inaction. It was never my intention. I will do my best to do better in the future.

Still working on how to do that.

[hotchley]

cold

Just a short thing living in my head that needed to be written before it drove me crazy and became more of a distraction because there is a pile of work that I am yet to do just staring at me. It has not been proofread and does not make sense but I’m tired and annoyed and yeah-

The keep reading is for easy scrolling I promise this isn’t that long

ALSO I KNOW THIS READS AS TEAM BASHING BUT IT’S NOT. THEY ARE ALL FLAWED PEOPLE THAT SOMETIMES LASH OUT IN MOMENTS OF ANGER. THE TEAMS’ ACTIONS ARE SLIGHTLY OOC FOR PLOT REASONS, AND A NORMAL RESPONSE TO SOME OF HOTCH’S STUNTS. I DO LIKE THEM.

Warnings: references to child murder, child abuse, death and canon-typical violence

read on ao3!

Tomorrow, Hotch will stand before Erin Strauss and the Director of the FBI and put his career on the line once more to protect his team.

He will justify their actions, take the fall, blame himself, and accept whatever consequences they decide upon without complaint. He will not beg, or let the tears roll down his cheeks. He won’t raise his voice or become defensive.

The Director will pounce if he does. And no matter what Erin- she had stopped being Ma’am or Strauss long ago- did, she would not able to stop them. They would strip him of his title and role. They would give it someone else. Someone that wasn’t willing to protect them like he was.

He would convince them that he knew exactly what was going to happen, and that the plan had all been his idea because he won’t- can’t- let them take the blame because he knows what the price will be. A suspension at best. Unemployment at worst.

And he can take it. He always has. But he’s not sure they can.

So he won’t become defensive of his own job, but he would stop them from taking the only family some of his team had ever known from them. He wasn’t part of that family anymore. He hadn’t been since Gideon walked away, leaving him drowning, with nobody to pull him from the water because they were all too busy with Spencer.

He can’t resent them though. Spencer’s life has, and always will, mean more to everyone than his does. He’s replaceable. Anyone can be a competent Unit Chief but not everyone can be a genius with an eidetic memory. 

Tomorrow, Hotch will succeed in pleading his case- he can’t not- and allow himself to breathe when the Director leaves. Erin will touch his shoulder for a moment, and he will feel the tug in his heart that always accompanies someone treating him with kindness.

He will raise his head long enough to meet her kind but disapproving eyes. And then he will shrug her hand off, and turn on his heel because he cannot break down in front of her.

He cannot break down in front of anyone. The only thing he can be useful for is his coldness that destroys unsubs, and the moment he loses that, he will be left. Broken and alone, with nothing to show for his time with the BAU but nine scars on his torso and nightmares that make themselves known through the dark circles under his eyes that nobody ever comments on.

Tomorrow, Aaron will go and play with Jack, letting the smile that takes so much effort to conjure because wherever he turns, he sees another threat or another hiding spot for a killer. He sees something that can take the only pure thing he hasn’t tainted from him.

And not just for a few months like WitSec did. Forever.

But Jack will turn to face him, the perfect reflection of Haley, and he will breathe slightly easier. Because Jack will not grow up fearing the sound of a car in the driveway, or wonder whether or not he will be allowed to eat. He will grow up knowing that his father loves him.

That he is wanted. 

Tomorrow, Hotch will act like the case had no effect on him. Like he is the stoic and cold and emotionless other-worldly being the rookies always consider him to be. He will tell his team off, not because he wants to, but because it will be him that gets in trouble when the paperwork is not delivered. And they will roll their eyes, mouth curses as they turn to their desks.

And he will pretend every gesture is not like a paper cut on his heart. He will pretend that it doesn’t have an impact on him. And then he will close the door to his office- the one he doesn’t even want anymore- and do the paperwork that is technically theirs with tears in his eyes that cannot spill.

But he won’t ever say a word, and they won’t ever say thank you. Because they don’t realise. They just see him as their Unit Chief that has a stick up his arse and a scowl on his face at all times.

But that is tomorrow.

Tonight, Aaron Hotchner will strip himself of the suit he wears like armour because he has checked the locks enough times to know that nobody will be breaking in. Jack is at a friends house, so he can be vulnerable. 

He will strip himself of his suit and climb into bed without ever looking in the mirror, even now, after all these years, because he cannot stand the sight of George Foyet’s marks on his torso. 

He will climb into his bed and he will shatter. He will sob and scream and hate the world until his lungs burn and his head hurts and there are no more tears that he can shed. He will mourn the boy he never got to be, and the people they lost on the case.

He will cradle his pillow the way he wished someone would have held him once. And the only witnesses to his humanity would be the lamp that he still cannot turn off without being reminded of blood and knives and the star on his ceiling that Jack insisted he put up there.

Today, Hotch will allow himself to be Aaron.

Tomorrow, Hotch will pretend that Aaron does not exist, and he will be labelled cold and unfeeling.

But he was never cold. Never. He wasn’t cold then and he isn’t cold now. He just never got the chance to be human.

[wizkiddx]

This bloody door

a lil blurb of complete fluff - readerxharryholland

“THIS. BLOODY. DOOR.” You shouted at no one in particular, really hoping the door would get the message of how much of a bitch it was being, not letting the key that was crafted just for it to work, instead of relying on a shove from your left shoulder. Which of course it wouldn’t get the message - because it was a door. A plank of wood.

That didn’t matter though. After the possibly the worst day you had ever experienced everyone was in for it tonight, the shoe that had given you such bad blisters that now you were absolutely ruining them by wearing them as slippers; the door; and let's not forget the lift that wouldn’t whisk you away quick enough to hide your tears after… after the presentation from hell. The lanky selfish prick, that most people called James but you simply called the fuckwit of a boss, had literally shredded apart your project in 10 minutes - that had been months of work. He was a dick, the lift was a dick and the door to your shared flat also had many similar characteristics.

“You know it won’t like you if you shout at it” Y/f/n, your best friend and flatmate spoke calmly as she rounded the corner into the hallway - looking at you sympathetically. You weren’t one to blow your top often, she knew today must truly have not gone your way. Replying with a cold hard stare at her, it took a moment before Y/f/n offered any solution. “You wanna rant?”

“Well for one we need a new shitting door because I just almost dislocated my shoulder getting in.” You started sarkily, earning an amused scoff from Y/f/n which didn’t really help your mood. “But chronologically? Well some randomer poured half their coffee down my blouse on the tube this morning which you know was annoying because of my presentation. Then got to work,Fuckwit made a comment about me not scrubbing up well because of the coffee stain- even though he looks like a horse chewed up some hay and then just spat it on the top of his greasy head- and THEN he shat all over my fucking presentation simply because he’s an ignorant arsehole who doesn’t care about the environment EVEN THOUGH sustainability is now a big selling point and I know for a fact we’d be getting double the amount of profit if he launched my range!” Hands were flying all over the place as you raged, Y/f/n just standing opposite with a sympathetic nod.

You had this agreement with Y/f/n - sometimes people just needed to let it all out, no filter, no judgement and no crappy advice. So sometimes, if either of you needed it, the other would just stay quiet and instead just really really listen. It was one of the many reasons you completely loved your best mate.

“And you know I was sobbing and almost ran out the conference room because you know, it was absolutely mortifying. And when I felt like that there was only one person I wanted to talk to, no offence to you but, I wanted to call Harry. And I pulled out my phone to, you know to ask for a bit of sympathy from my boyfriend but instead, I was cruelly reminded of the fact he left me on read almost two days ago. And I’m not a possessive girlfriend who wants to know where he is all the time or whatever, even though I think most people probably would because you know his job means girls literally fall at his feet, but no it's not me. Still though…2 DAYS? I mean he was the one who asked me to be his girlfriend, and I get he’s busy directing on the other side of the world but all I need is a single text saying sorry I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“Y/n” That wasn’t allowed during a rant, you weren’t allowed to interrupt the other. So naturally, you just completely ignored Y/f/n chiming in.

“And like it's even worse because you know he’s been away for ages and I kind of had a realisation a couple of days ago. Before you say anything I know I don’t know what love is right? I know that but-but I think I maybe possibly might actually love him. And that terrifies me but its the truth. I really do think I could quite possibly be in love with him. So-so now” Your voice broke a little at the point, the rage and anger dissipating into sadness - and there was no other word for it. Just this heavy thing that felt like it was weighing you down.

“Y/n I really-“

“So now I have a boyfriend who I love but is ignoring me, have probably lost my job” The voice breaking now was you gulping down an almost sob, again completely ignoring your best mate “and the door is still a dick” Y/f/n laughed a little at that, however, was too busy staring intently at you to take any real appreciation for your comedy in a time of almost-break down.

“…you’ve got nothing to say?” After what felt like minutes of silence, you prompted Y/f/n to speak - it took her opening and closing her mouth but she got there in the end.

“Sorry just a shock um… I think… I think maybe you should go sit on the sofa.”

“God fucking Einstein aren’t you? How could I forget the sofa fixes a broken heart, unemployment and a door?” You didn’t mean to be so sarcastic and cruel, and Y/f/n knew that too - she wasn’t going to take offence after how angry you are at the world.

“Y/n just shut your mouth and go into the living room” You rolled your eyes but followed her orders, marching angrily into your small and simple living room. Sure it wasn’t a luxury, but renting a two bed in London wasn’t exactly the most affordable thing - both of you had still managed to inject a nice cozy vibe into it though, with fairy lights and throw cushions and blankets.

However this evening it had a certain new piece of decor that definitely wasn’t there when you left this morning. Sitting bolt upright with a shit eating grin was a sight that was almost impossible. A curly haired, skinny but oh so safe looking man perched on the couch. Your curly haired, skinny but safe boy. It was almost impossible but at the same time, somehow, very very real.

“Hi” He uttered awkwardly, almost looking scared of your blank, confused expression. You just didn’t get it you didn’t understand and stood their frozen, hands held out slightly as if you were waiting for someone to pass you a plate or something. After a couple of seconds, Y/f/n got bored of the nothing - gently shoving you from behind, meaning you had no choice but to lurch forward, run and then almost jump on Harry, his back pushed into the back of the sofa with your momentum.

Everything just felt so much more right as you listened to his deep chuckle reverberate around his chest. From your position straddling him and arms clinging round his neck as though you were some sort of a koala, Harry finally had all of you in his grasp after months apart. That’s why he’d arranged this whole thing with Y/f/n to surprise you by coming home earlier than what he had told you- it was also why he had been leaving all your messages unanswered, he’d been on flights back and also thought it would be an even better surprise if you hadn’t spoken in a while. Now though, he just felt extremely guilty as your chest started shaking in a way he’d never seen before.

“Hey it’s okay.... just take a minute yeh?”

Because of course he had heard you shouting from the doorway, the flat was only small. He knew you’d had an incredibly shit day, also knowing that sometimes you need a cry just to let it all out. And so he let you, gently rubbing up and down your back while you sniffled into his chest. With a small nod to Harry, Y/f/n made herself scarce - more than reassured Harry had the situation under control.

It must’ve been a couple of minutes, of you just quietly crying into his chest whilst his heartbeat calmed you down. Eventually, though, you leant back but still with your arms round his neck, just enough so you could meet his eyes. “Hey” Harry whispered, as he moved one arm from around your waist to gently wipe away a singular tear drop on your cheek.

“You’re so bloody annoying” You laughed, a sort of wet and congested laugh but still with oh so soft eyes for the boy in front of.

“That's seriously how your gonna greet me? I flew halfway across the world to see you!” He quipped back, gently squeezing you hip as he spoke.

“Yeah well, you didn’t reply to me!” It was a jokey statement with a faked pout - because not to be cocky but having him infant of you like this you knew. Harry wouldn’t have flown home for someone he didn’t care about, his pupils wouldn’t be so incredibly wide and your heartbeats wouldn’t have exactly synced up - which you had noticed as you were lent against his chest.

“I was just trying to surprise you! But yeh was a bit of a dick move.”

“As long as you know it” He laughed at that and you took the opportunity to try and clamber off him somewhat - yet Harry just clamped you down with his hands again, not letting you move from your position straddled over him.

“So have I made the worlds shittest day a little less shit then?” He taunted making you roll your eyes but instead of sassing him back you just leant down and feathered your lips on his momentarily. He whined when you pulled away since your lips had barely ghosted over his; your hands now cupping his sharp jaw and cheeks. Both of you just took a moment to look at each other, for the first time in too long, trying to commit every aspect and little perfect imperfection to memory.

“So” you whispered, biting your lip, with the knowledge Harry had heard everything you’d shouted at Y/f/n when you came in and knowing Harry well enough to know he would definitely bring it up - to no doubt mock you.

“So… you think you could ‘maybe possibly might be in love with me’ is that right?” There it was, Harry was never one for beating round the bush. Moreover, that just proved you knew him like the back of your hand - it made you chuckle almost silently, shaking you had with amusement. “Well I was wondering what could make you a bit more certain of that and… and I’ve already asked Tom and all his year of carpentry experience to fix ‘that bloody door’”

“And why would you want me to be more certain?” You only asked because you knew. You knew him and you could read everything he was feeling like a book. And you liked to tease him

“Perhaps because I maybe possibly most definitely am in love with you?… what do you say huh?”

“Fix my door first., then we can talk.”

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Going into 2021..

Right now, I am desperately looking for a decent job. I live in Portland and there's precious little fulfilling positions out there that would pay enough to really actually pay rent. Economically, things aren't looking so hot. We are in the middle of a pandemic which obviously things are and should me closed, or limited in capacity. I am probably owed several thousand in unemployment but I haven't been able to contact them for months. Which I won't be able to pay rent after this month if i don't find something. It's disturbing but i may need to find a way to pay for a storage unit, and then crash on my sister and her boyfriend's couch soon if i don't find something, until something better comes along. At thirty-one, i wanted so badly to actually be going somewhere but as it is i am struggling to even buy food. I'm truly ridiculously ashamed of myself. I am trying not to blame myself, there is a lot of critical thinking i have about being a good for nothing and not worth anyone's time or care, ill prepared for everything that has happened. I really wanted to move to the city and succeed. And for a moment i think i was, then i wasn't. Then this covid business happened and I'm here.

I've literally been met with pretty bad luck and like so many people it is mainly covid related. I'm far from being in the worst situation. The fact that I am here typing this is proof in and of itself that i'm not in the worst position. My parents won't send me any money because they both want me to move back to Idaho to live with them in their abusive situations. My father makes quite a bit of money but the way he sees it, he has this plan to move me back to Idaho where he can isolate me and be verbally abusive. His plan is to wait till i am homeless and then offer me a job in Idaho with the stipulation that i will have to basically hang out with him every single night, get yelled at and frightened like i was when i was a child. I will be separated from any support system or friends or people who care about me. I would be beholden onto him like i was a child. It's his goal really. He has more than enough money to keep me going, but he's not going to help me. It's funny, but not so funny to know that he would probably be frightened of what happened when i was put in that situation now at the age i am. He thinks he wants me there, he does not. He remembers me putting up with it when i was younger and crumpling and having the satisfaction of controlling me and breaking my spirit. I'm like, stable but a lot more reactionary than i used to be, and brittle. I'd crumple so hard now, it would be as though i were a star that turned into a black hole and swallowed him in. He doesn't want to deal with that now. I would probably end up getting locked up if he tried to be physically or verbally abusive to me. And I am just never going back to Idaho. I'd rather sleep outside. And it is his money. He's got no obligation to help me at all, and he has in the past, helped me out a bit.

I worry because things have gotten worse for me than they were a year ago. It's effected my attitude a little. Like I don't smile as much. I broke my foot three months ago which prevented me from working. I quit my job because i felt exploited and only getting paid 400$ a month is not a decent living. Even today, i thought i was fine so i took a walk and when i got home my foot hurt pretty bad. I did get a phone interview with and up and coming vegan mushroom jerky company that I am hoping I can just manage to get. I need this job terribly, and it seemed like a really good job for me. My physical health isn't the best. I have PCOS, which means i have to be very careful about what i eat. I gained a bunch of lockdown weight. I was in the 150's and no i am afraid of what i weigh. I was getting kind of skinny, and though i was probably undereating, overeating for me is worse. It fucks with my mental health and how people treat me, and it's a hard road to getting fit, it's hard to feel inspired in times like these. Food is comfort. I am still nowhere as big as i was in Idaho. There is a lot of food I am not supposed to eat or it messes with my brain chemistry and it's pretty stressful.

I guess what hurts the most is, I feel like I've lost a lot of friends. One of my best friends, i guess you could say we were semi seeing one another for nearly two years, he's just kind of not texting me back, or sending literally like 'haha' and 'ok' once a day. I've tried being ridiculously patient. I try to be supportive and funny and make an extra effort, even from afar, to be there. He's too busy to ever hang out with me, or just doesn't want to. I feel very used. It could be nothing. I've tried talking about it, having good humor, but it's not working. My temptation at every given moment is to call and demand some kind of explanation but the truth is that it would change nothing. He would call me if he wanted to talk. He's probably just found someone else. Or if he isn't, he just is disinterested in me as a person. It makes me feel, on top of looking down the barrel of homelessness and bad health, just floored with a horrible miserable feeling in the pit of my stomach. And it could reverse in a week or two so easily if he just explained himself in some way. Even if i found out the reason, and it was bad, i'd deal with it. Not knowing is what is really hurting me. It just kind of repeats in my head. I feel ugly, and unwanted and annoying. We spoke every single day for months and months and years, then it just stops? Why? And I am just supposed to pretend that it isn't devastating.

I wish i was in a position to help other people. I wish that i had money to have given people gifts for Christmas. My sister has issues with me, though she is very kind to let me stay with her if need be, it would be kinda tense to stay with her in her tiny apartment with her boyfriend. It's not the worst place I've been, but it wouldn't be great. It's weird to see the politics of the world unfold. I try not to worry about things that might happen in the future because I know there is only so much i can do. And if the economic system i was born under collapses, and even if i am a casualty of that collapse, i can't be blaming myself for that as well. It was long under way before i was ever born. And worrying about all the things i cannot control isn't going to help me in the long run.

I dunno, I am being a debbie downer. I just needed to vent, and not write people at 4am that I shouldn't be writing. :S Goodnight.

[ruinedandnotorious]

tumblr, listen.

i have a lot on my mind and i need to get it out and i have too many other people looking at my other social media accounts to say it all there. i should’ve known my old pal tumblr would be there for me.

woo lord, i am frustrated. and anxious. i keep feeling like i’m on the precipice of something. that all of my work and hope and traction is going to lead... somewhere. somehow. sometime. but i don’t know how or with who and certainly not when and i wish the when was yesterday. 

i have so many ideas i can’t get off the ground for whatever reason. i’ve tried though! i sent off some applications, submissions and emails this week that will hopefully yield some kind of results. yesterday i was very much in that mindset of, “they can bite you, but they can’t eat you,” so i just went for things. 

i’ve put things out into the world, but it never hurts to put them out there more. so, here goes.

i am lucky to have the job that i have. the money sucks, but my boss is super flexible with my time and supportive of my volunteer work. i actually really like every single coworker, which has never happened before, lol. 

right now, though, we are only working 30 hours... which is PERFECT for my mental health, but AWFUL for things like rent and bills. i’m making it, but that’s literally it. i need more money, majorly. but man, i enjoyed the hell out of unemployment last year. i want a new job - one that pays well - and one that doesn’t feel like work. i know, that’s everyone’s dream. but i feel like i am so close to getting there but it’s always just out of reach.

my job is fine, truly. it’s easy. it’s cushy - i’m working from home, thank god. BUT staying inside all day is getting to me physically and, unless i have a work meeting or am recording my podcast, i don’t talk to anyone but my cat (and my mom, by phone), so it can really drain my mental health. but i also don’t want to get out too much because, hello, goddamn covid.

this last year has taught me a lot, but it’s also changed how i socialize. i’ve always been introverted but it’s worse now and i’m picky about who/how i socialize. i have this one friend that i’ve known since elementary school. we’ve always been friends, but never super close. we have nothing in common, literally nothing. for a while, that didn’t matter. it was fun to catch up. now, though? the friendship feels like a chore. i hate saying that. but i don’t know that either of us get anything out of it, really. but she keeps trying to reach out and i’ve ignored her every time. i’ve ignored her for MONTHS. she deserves a response. but i also know that any response will just fuel the fire. i hate to be like, can we not? but every time i try to work myself up to respond to her, i just can’t. it’s like my brain is like, no, we’re not saying anything. no. don’t even consider it. i just have this block. i feel so bad saying that. she’s done nothing wrong! but i also know i tiptoe around stuff because, again, we have nothing in common, so it’s not like i can just freely speak my mind about anything. she doesn’t give a shit about anything i’m into an vice versa, so it’s frustrating to just update my life like, “well, i work, that’s it.” because she doesn’t give a damn about anything else i’m doing or am into. UGH. like. why does she want to keep this going? i had someone - like a best friend (not this friend i’m talking about, but one that’s much closer to me) - tell me recently that i am a shitty friend so... this is proof. yay.

anyway. i met someone recently who blew my damn mind. she’s a spiritual advisor/counselor, and we instantly connected about so many things but i also learned so much from her - in just the few hours we talked. i want to do an actual session with her, but her rates are high and i don’t have the money. i’ve thought about asking her if i could trade some social media services for a session - like basically be her social manager for a month - but i also know money is money and she’s worth actual money, not likes/followers on social. i don’t know. i do not want to disrespect her; i know she’s worth every penny.

but she did confirm some things i’ve wondered about in terms of those i’ve lost. she gave me a bit of peace. but i have more questions. like, a whole page of questions, lol.

she also opened my eyes to some healing work i need to do on myself... in a lot of ways, but especially in regards to my last job and how they fucked me over. i have so much anger and hurt from that, a year later. and i even consider what they did to me a blessing - it’s really led to a life that is more in line with what i actually want and value. i’m just angry at how it all went down and how they still act - or don’t - toward me. 

the mag i work for let me write about my dad’s passing and the complications of covid grief, so that was great - i had an outlet for that. but how do you go about getting your feelings out about your last employer... who’s a major player in town and who drives tourism for the city.. lol. i’m sure i’ll let it all out here sooner or later.

i jumped back on a dating site, 100% for the distraction, not because i thought i’d actually meet someone. which is probably why i haven’t, lol. like... no one even comes close to what i think i want in a man. i keep hoping someone will show up at the cemetery... yes when i’m covered in graveyard dirt and sweat and looking my worst... i also feel bad that i keep hoping the cemetery will answer all of life’s questions and fix me in all the ways. like. my expectations are too high - of a cemetery! - so i’m sure my expectations for a guy are too high too.

i’m also not ready to meet someone because i am physically just not into a relationship either. i’m my biggest i’ve ever been. i was doing so well at  becoming body neutral - just accepting of my body, not so much loving it - but woo lord, i somehow gained like 10 pounds over the last week and i am feeling it, big time. idk how i’ve gained so much when i mostly eat at home? and i don’t think i’m eating THAT bad at home? i never fry anything? i do eat a lot of cheese i guess. i don’t know. gonna go to the doctor soon and i’m sure THAT will be a fun visit. plus, my hands - especially my left hand - has really bad trigger finger (i’m guessing that’s what it is, it meets all of the symptoms on webmd lol) and it hurts so bad. i don’t wanna go back to an ortho. 

there are other issues, specifically concerning shark week (i asked my psych doc about it and she made me feel normal, so thank god for her), that i’ve got to get squared away, too. it feels like my body has just ran away from me and i can’t control any part of it.

i’ve read so many good books in the last year, holy shit. lately i’ve been watching movies while i work and holy shit, classic movies are so damn good. claude rains, man. 

pose is amazing. blanca is like, the perfect human ever? if ever i run away to start a new life, i’m using the name elektra abundance. i. love. elektra. so. much. 

i’m angry at myself because i’ve always wanted to collect mini brands and dammit i finally bought my first ball and... yep. i wanna get ‘em all. they are $7 a ball. i don’t need this stupid, expensive thing to be into.

that’s just it. i wish i had the money for little frivolous things like that. there’s an edgar allan poe tarot deck at my local witchy shop that i am DYING for. i want a new tattoo - not even anything that big or expensive! 

i really want a damn vacation. i feel so bad saying that. but i just want out of this area for a second.

SIGH.

generally... life’s alright. i just want it to be better and maybe a little more exciting.

[blaizekit]

End-of-HFOWW update (Feb 2021) part 2: other projects

I have several ongoing original projects, but as of this post I’m in a sort of limbo with them. It’s kind of a long, personal story and not strictly related to my fics, so I split this off from the previous post. 

Tl;dr: This Pandemic™ really threw everything off at the worst time, so my 2021 is up in the air, but I’m going to focus hard on originals. The tag #blaizeoriginals will be used for future posts related to this topic. 

I don’t talk about it a lot on this blog because it doesn’t feel appropriate somehow (anxiety brain idek), but I got a manuscript request from a literary agent for a novel. That I wrote. 

Last March, literal days before lockdown began, I went to a writer’s conference. I’d just finished a rough draft, so I hadn’t signed up for any pitch sessions, since I know it’s frowned on to do a formal sit-down pitch for something as unpolished as this was. But I did submit the first page for a panel where agents would read the pages aloud and critique them. I was super nervous because it was the first time I’d ever shown my writing to professionals.

So that’s when it got really unexpected. The pages were randomly picked for reading, and mine got read. But the panel made their comments (and they were very nice! I will absolutely never forget one of them calling my writing “sticky” (complimentary). I loved that lol). Then, one said ‘whoever wrote this, come see me after’ and I internally freaked out, because I knew it meant I’d gotten their attention, and I wasn’t ready!!! So I went up there after and the agent gave me their card and said they wanted the full manuscript. (what!!!) I stumbled my way through an explanation that it wasn’t ready, and they said to polish it first then send.

Then the pandemic and lockdown started and... that didn’t happen. 

I was severely writer’s blocked, and knowing I was letting an opportunity slip away from me as the months passed made it even more painful. It’s very cringe, but since I couldn’t seem to write anything else, I started HFOWW as a way to vent and work through the multiple layers of existential angst I’m sure we all had to go through over last year. ‘Hope is the will to keep trying’ is the mantra I’m trying to carry into this year.

But I’m really not sure what I’m going to do. I know there are other opportunities out there if I want them, and I could probably try querying the same person and give some small explanation as to what happened. But I also lost my job (thanks Corona), so I am at the mercy of the unemployment system right now. It ran out at the beginning of December and didn’t come back until Jan 21, so I went hungry more than once as I tried to ration the food I had. I always made sure my babycat had the kibble he’s used to. I asked my partner to buy groceries for me instead of getting me a birthday present.

Why couldn’t I just work on my novel!!! Trust me, I metaphorically beat my head on my desk plenty of times wondering the same thing.

I don’t bring this up to throw a pity-party, but to underline how serious and important it is that I figure out something. I’m lucky that I don’t have to pay rent, so my home isn’t on the line or anything like that. But I’m definitely living on a tightrope.

I really don’t know what will happen long-term. For the immediate future, I’m going to save whenever I can to skate over any future shortages, and I’m going to focus on finishing projects I can legally sell. I have to. Whether that means pitching agents or self-publishing, I literally can’t afford to work on free content in 2021. 

I’ve thought about all sorts of possibilities for the meantime, like adding a shop to my ko-fi to sell original short stories or commissions or do freelance tutoring (I used to do that in college), but basically, it’s all up in the air right now and I might experiment with different things as I go along.

So that’s all I’m trying to say, really. That I might be trying out different things, and that I’ll only be working on fics sparingly.

If I do figure something out, I may mention it here or try to point to it a few times, but for the most part I’m going to keep all that stuff separate from this blog and my other fandom pages. I’ll use the tag #blaizeoriginals whenever I talk about it, so you can block accordingly (or follow if you want to be alerted if I make a separate blog, for example).

[spikeymarshmallows]

a word or nine of gratitude

hey pals! I just wanted to say “thank you” for the kindness, compassion, empathy, and sweetness y’all have shown me not just over the past few days or even the past few weeks, but the past few months. I joined TUA fandom in late Dec/early Jan, and in that time I’ve gone through.... a lot. Panic writing a thesis. Graduating (sounds like it’d be wonderful, but like, it was honestly really upsetting in many spots). Very long and drawn out break up. Heartbreak. Relapsing with some mental health stuff. Sinking into the darkest place I’ve been in, in probs.... eight years. Not being able to return to my country. Visa uncertainty. Unemployment. It’s been a lot, and.. it’s been painful.

But the thing is: the rest of you aren’t exactly having the time of your lives. COVID is a fucker. The politics in the world are horrendous. Lots of people have lost jobs, homes, relationships, loved ones.... Not to mention that normal life is hard in general!!

And through all of that, y’all have managed to be kind, and sweet, and compassionate.

I know this seems really gushy... But. IDK, it made me cry a little bit that I asked for soft fic recs, and so many people came to offer support. It makes me heart feel full that people check in on me sometimes, and that when I’ve posted misery-guts stuff.... there are some wonderful people who share their support on the posts, or in DMs.

IDK. Just. For all that I go “UGH, PEOPLE ARE THE WORST” I am still 1000% of the opinion that humanity is inherently good. And just... wanted to say “hey, y’all are amazing. You’re all going through some shit rn too, and you still have it in you to show strangers on the internet kindness. That’s really a testament to your character. Thank you for being a wonderful human and/or cryptid”.

I hope that whatever good news you’re waiting for comes soon, and is even better than you expected <3

[banditthewriter]

Misdial; Redial - Billy Russo

Prompt: Wrong Number AU: Reader is going through hard times and her friend gives her number to a guy who usually helps veterans but won't say no to a civilian. But instead of talking with a polite man named Curtis she ends up texting with a guy named Billy who's incredibly witty, funny and maybe gets attached to her but doesn't want to show his face. Prompter: Anonymous

So this is my 17k word oneshot because I got really inspired by this request. It took on a life of its own. 

Warnings: Discussion of past sexual abuse. Smut. Immediate angst after smut? I don’t know if that deserves a warning or not. Just be kind to yourselves darlings.

Tags are at the bottom. Let me know if you would like to be added to one of my tag lists!

*gif is mine*

Enjoy!

*****

It had been a rough year. You'd faced unemployment, homelessness, sick family members. Some of your problems were a direct correlation to your ex, some of it was just bad timing. It didn't matter which was which; it was all pretty equally ducky.

Every time something got better, two things would go wrong again. It happened over and over for over a year until you weren't sure you could take it anymore.

“I can't do it anymore,” you cried as your best friend kept his arm around you. “I'm just so tired. Of all of this.”

Kenny tugged you into his chest, quietly shushing you.

“You're one of the strongest people I know. I know this stuff is hitting you from all sides, but you're not in this alone. We’ve got you.”

He meant your circle of friends who had taken turns hosting you while you tried to find an apartment. You finally found one only for it to be taken before you had the chance.

“I hate feeling like a burden,” you said as you wiped your tears.

“No burden here except Ethan’s gym socks,” he joked as he looked over to where his boyfriend's gym bag was resting. “If I didn't love the man, I'd throw the bag out into the dumpster.”

It made you giggle which was surely his intention. Once he was satisfied that you were done crying, he pulled back a bit. The look on his face told you that he was thinking about something.

“What is it?”

Kenny held up a finger. He stood up and made his way over to the desk in the corner of the living room.

“When Ethan came back from overseas, he was a mess. He couldn't find a job, couldn't settle into a routine. We almost didn't make it,” he admitted quietly as he sorted through the drawer. “He got in touch with this guy, Curtis Hoyle. He runs a group for vets, helps them find work and adjust. He's great. And he's also just a good ear to bend when you're down.”

He pulled out a small address book and started flipping through the pages as he made his way over to you.

“Maybe you could give him a call. Or a text, if you prefer.”

You were shaking your head before he finished his sentence.

“I wasn't… I'm not military, Ken.”

Kenny shrugged and flopped down beside you, still holding out the book.

“Neither was I but he talked me through losing my dad and my brother within about two months of each other. And that was when Ethan was deployed.”

You hesitated before you finally accepted the address book from him. On the page he had turned to was about two dozen names all smushed in together.

“How can you even read these?”

He laughed as he trailed his finger along a line. The phone number was a bit jumbled but you typed it into your phone as best you could.

“Who are these other people?”

“Some are guys Ethan served with. Some are guys he met in group with Curtis. That's Ethan’s boss,” he said as he pointed to a name that was basically just a B and then a smear of pen. “He met him through Curtis.”

You nodded as you glanced at the number in your phone. You weren't sure you'd use it, but if it made Kenny feel better to give it to you?

“I promise I'll be off your couch soon,” you said somewhat miserably. “I just have to keep looking.”

“Hey, I don't care about that. I just care about you.”

You tugged Kenny close to you so that you could rest your head on his shoulder.

“You're the best.”

“I know,” he said with a grin.

------

Your ex was the kind of guy who thought things were owed to him. Paul took what he wanted, damn the consequences. You'd liked that about him in theory. You had completely different feelings about it in reality.

You stayed because you thought you had to, that you wouldn't be able to survive without him. You left your apartment to move in with him. You lost your job because he'd make you call out and stay at home instead of going in. He stopped you from seeing your family.

It kept getting worse until he turned his attention on you. It took Kenny taking you to a crisis center and talking to a therapist to learn that saying yes because you're scared to say no is still rape. At that point you were done. Kenny, Ethan, your father, and one of Ethan’s buddies from work all showed up at the townhouse you shared with Paul to help you pack up your belongings.

There wasn't much. He'd made you sell a lot of it.

Once you were out, you had to work on getting your life put back together. It just didn't seem to work that way. You felt like you were always scrambling to make it.

But you had Kenny. You had Ethan. You had your family. You weren't doing it alone anymore.

------

The new job wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing. And the pay was pretty good considering. You went to labs, medical offices, and other places in the city to check that they were disposing of their supplies correctly and that they followed all health guidelines.

You huffed out a sigh as you settled down into the booth at the diner near the job you were on today. As the waitress brought over your drink, you felt your phone buzz with a new text.

After you ordered your lunch, you checked the message. It was from Kenny.

Have you called Curtis yet?

You sighed again, this time out of fond exasperation as you tapped out your response.

No. I don't know how I feel about it. And I don't know that I need someone to talk to.

We all need someone to talk to.

Yeah but that's why I have you!

You put your phone down when the food arrived. After the first few bites, you picked it back up curiously.

But I'll say the wrong thing because I'm insensitive and awkward. Curtis is really good at this shit.

Please Y/N? It's the only way I know how to help you

With it put like that, how could you turn it down?

I'll message him later, okay? I promise.

You got the response before you could even lock your phone.

I'm glad.

------

“Hey dad,” you called softly as you walked into the hospital room, eyeing the lump on the bed before you moved to his side. “How's she doing?”

Your father gave you a hug and kissed the top of your head.

“Stubborn as a mule,” he said with a small smile. “Doc was in here earlier to check her vitals and she damn near kicked him out.”

“His stethoscope was cold,” your sister complained as she turned her head to peek up at you. “Aren't you supposed to be at work?”

You huffed out a laugh and moved to grab her hand.

“I got off about thirty minutes ago.” You squeezed her hand as you looked at all of the machines attached to her. “How are you feeling?”

Kristen’s free hand went to her very large belly.

“Felt him kick earlier,” she said with a smile. “Dr Dunning said that was a good sign.”

You placed your hand on her belly and smiled. Before you could say anything, you felt the tiniest movement.

“Gas?”

Kris smacked your arm with a laugh.

“That was your nephew telling you to be nice to his mom,” she countered with a grin.

“He says that now. Wait until he gets here. You'll be all discipline and veggies and I'll be giving him ice cream for dinner.”

The rest of your visit went much the same. Your sister's pregnancy was high risk so she was hospitalized for the last few weeks before they would have to do a c-section. It'd been tough on everyone because you wanted to be with her as much as possible but it was hard to get out there now that you were employed.

Your parents took turns spending about six hours with her at a time. The father wasn't in the picture anymore so it was just Kris. And your soon to be nephew.

On your way home, you thought about the number in your phone. You didn't think you needed to reach out to Curtis because you were doing okay for the time being. Of course you did promise Kenny that you'd message him.

And it wasn't like you'd turn down the chance to talk to someone. You were still stressed about finding a place to live. And you were still looking for a job that fit you more than what you were doing now.

It couldn't hurt, right? Worst came to worst, he'd tell you to buzz off.

With that in mind, you told yourself that you'd send a text to appease Kenny. He'd been so worried about you lately.

------

Curled up in the guest room while Kenny and Ethan watched TV in the living room, you decided that now was as good of a time as any. It took you a few minutes to figure out what to say, but once you started? The words just seemed to flow from you.

Hey Curtis. You don't know me but a friend gave me your number. I've been having a tough time lately and he told me that you're a pretty good with that? I just have a lot going on and I'm feeling a bit like a failure. I don't know how else to explain it except I feel like I'm failing everyone and I'm a burden to the people that care about me. And I know I shouldn't lay all this at your feet but my friend really wanted me to reach out. Feel free to tell me to fuck off if this is out of line, I just thought I'd give it a try.

You hit send before you could think twice about it. You also realized you never gave him your name or who your friend was, but you figured you'd wait to see how he responded.

With the message sent, you dropped your phone onto the bedspread and moved to your luggage. You pulled out some pajamas and started to work on putting them on.

While you were pulling your shirt on, you heard your phone buzz. Instead of running over, you stuck to getting dressed. And then you tried to think of anything else you could do before you checked the message.

Unable to think of anything that wouldn’t involve you going through the apartment and depressing yourself by seeing Ethan and Kenny being so in love, you sat down on the bed and unlocked the phone to check.

Your stomach dropped when you saw the reply.

I'm sorry about this but I think you have the wrong number? I don't think anyone would have given you my number if you were looking for comfort. And my name isn't Curtis. I know a Curtis though and he's the kind of guy that would talk you through this so I can give you his number if you want?

You swore and tossed the phone away from you. Even the knowledge that this person apparently knew Curtis didn't help. All you felt was embarrassed to have unloaded on a complete stranger. And the wrong stranger at that.

All of the numbers had been so squished together on that page. He said he knew Curtis so it was probably one of the people from group. Shit.

You'd tell Kenny that you were sorry but that it didn't work out with you talking to Curtis. It'd be a lie, but you couldn't reach out to someone else after that.

You'd just keep on going the way you had been.

------

When you woke up the next morning, you checked the time on your phone. There was a notification from a number you didn't have saved.

It was just familiar enough for you to realize it was the number of Not-Curtis. You had deleted the number before you went to bed, not thinking that other person would reach back out after they told you they weren't Curtis.

Instead you were faced with another message.

I know I'm not Curtis but I am worried. You okay?

This person has claimed that no one would have given you their phone number to comfort you, but they did seem worried about you.

The clock said it was just after six. You needed to take a shower and start getting ready for work. Instead you took a moment to compose a reply.

I'm fine, just embarrassed. I'm taking this as a sign that I should just not bother people with my junk. Thanks for checking up on me. And sorry for bothering you last night.

You sent the message and locked your phone, heading to grab your stuff for your shower. You figured that would be that but when you got back to the room, you had a new message from that same number.

No worries. I get it. But I wouldn't take it as a sign not to reach out. There's no shame in reaching out. Curtis is a good guy. Let me give you his actual number. He can help you adjust to being back home.

You hesitated when you read that. It made sense the person would assume that you were military considering what Curtis did, but it just helped you feel worse.

I'm not military. Part of the reason I want to just forget this happened. Sorry for bothering you.

Phone back down once more, you moved to your clothes. You still had some time before you needed to go to work, but you usually preferred to leave early to stop and get breakfast.

When you were fully dressed, you checked your phone but there weren't any new messages. You weren't sure why you felt disappointed, but you considered it a fluke.

------

The lab you were checking was mostly empty. You were making notes on their disposal techniques when you felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Your first thought was that it was going to be about Kris. Instead you were faced with that unsaved number from earlier.

So you aren't military. Curtis would still be willing to talk to you.

This person just didn't know when to give up.

I decided that I don't want to bother Curtis with my issues. I appreciate your persistence, but I'm not going to message him.

You tucked your phone back into your pocket. Even when you felt it buzz later while you were explaining that the lab was using outdated cleaning equipment and could be fined for that, you ignored it.

It had to be a guy. A girl would have stopped pushing at some point. You weren't sure what kind of guy openly admits to not being someone to offer comfort and then go through this, but it somehow made sense.

On your way to the subway, you finally opened the one notification you'd been ignoring all day.

Well you aren't bothering me. I have nothing better to do right now. I'm Billy, btw. If you want, you can talk to me.

You started to type up a reply telling him you weren't going to do that either, but something stopped you. You glanced up to see what station was coming up and sighed.

Maybe you could use someone to talk to. Someone that didn't know you in person and someone you could easily ignore if it went bad. Someone with no real connection to you.

In the end it was the thought that Kris would want you to do it which made you change your response.

I've just been dealing with a lot in the last few months. Things seem to be getting worse before they get better. My friend thought I could benefit from talking to someone that isn't in my social circle about it.

You hesitated and then sent the text. His text had been about three hours ago so you didn't expect an immediate response. But it came through anyways.

What are you dealing with? If you wanna tell me

You appreciated him giving you the opportunity. The thought of laying everything out on someone you didn't know made you a little nervous so you decided the cliff notes version would have to do.

Lost my job so now I'm working a job I don't particularly like. Couch surfing because I can't find a place to live. My sister is in the hospital because she's having a difficult pregnancy. It's just a lot

You felt stupid the moment you sent it. If this guy was in one of the groups with Curtis and Ethan, he was obviously a vet. You were telling someone from the military that you were dealing with a lot and it was just–

A new text came in.

Shit.

Obviously he was a wordsmith, but you could see the bubble that said he was typing.

Think of it this way. Any job is better than no job. And couch surfing means you got people that care. Like the friend that gave you Curt’s number?

I can't say much about the sister thing because I've never been in that situation but I imagine it sucks

That made it sound like he didn't have any siblings. You weren't going to pry, because you weren't sure how close to get to this mysterious Billy, but it was something at least.

I know that I've been lucky. I know that and that's what makes me feel worse. I shouldn't feel like this, I know that.

Your stop was coming up so you put your phone away. Once you were back on the street, you found yourself reaching for your phone again.

That's not what I'm saying at all. Shit still hurts whether or not it could be worse. Don't judge how you feel against how you think you should feel. Doesn't work that way

That was heavy. You crossed the street carefully, checking both directions as you did. On the other side, you paused your trek to send a reply.

For someone who doesn't think people would go to you for comfort, you're pretty good at it

You tucked your phone into your pocket after you put it on silent. As much as your were—surprisingly—enjoying this conversation, you didn't want to be distracted when you got to see your sister again.

An hour and a half later as you were leaving, you finally checked your phone. There were two messages from Billy.

Maybe I'm just trying to channel Curt. Make it worth your time to talk to me.

You never gave me your name

You looked around as if you expected to see someone hovering nearby.

There was no harm in telling him your name, especially since he told you his. Although he could have used a fake name.

You could use a fake name. It wasn't like he'd ever know the truth.

I'd feel more comfortable anonymous. For now?

It took another subway ride to get you home. Or, well, to Kenny and Ethan’s. Inside you waved at Kenny who was working at his desk before you went into the guest room. You started to drop your bag onto the bed when you saw the text.

I get that. Can I know anything about you? Gender? Age? Zodiac sign?

You let out a short laugh. It was a bit of a surprise, so you smothered the instinct. If you didn't know better, you would think he was flirting with you. But it was probably just him trying to lighten the mood.

You gave him the answers, telling him you were a girl and giving him your age. You even jokingly gave him your zodiac sign.

It was a step. And a small step was better than nothing.

------

“So you don't know this guy but you've been texting him?”

You looked over at where Kris was failing to knit a baby blanket. It looked more like a really sad pot holder.

“It started as a fluke,” you admitted as you flipped through the magazine you were reading. “But it's only been the past few days. It probably won't continue.”

Even as you said it, you felt a thin curl of disappointment growing in your chest.

The past few days had involved a few conversations with Billy. Well, one conversation that didn't stop. Sometimes there'd be hours between texts, but you didn't mind. He always turned the conversation back to you, back to the things you had admitted to him that day.

You had a strange feeling that he actually wanted to help you.

“Just be careful, okay? I don't want anything to happen to this kid’s aunt. He’ll need you to keep his mommy from going insane.”

It was such a Kris thing to say that you could barely keep the smile down.

“Do you think I'm gonna do something stupid?”

Kris raised her eyebrow at you, throwing her knitting down in frustration.

“No, I feel like you get attached to people easily and sometimes you get hurt.”

You thought about Paul and how quickly everything had moved. How quickly everything had gone to hell.

“You may have a point there.”

You didn't want to stop talking to Billy, but you knew Kris was right. She usually was.

------

“You've seemed happy lately,” Kenny said as he flopped down on the bed next to you. “Well maybe not happy, but more settled.”

You looked over at him and smiled.

“I'm glad you think so.”

He rolled his head to look over at you.

“Did you text Curtis?”

You'd almost forgotten to tell him about it. And since your version of things was a little different, you wanted to tread lightly.

“I did. It really helped. It got me thinking about how to move forward.”

You knocked your knee against his, grinning a bit as you did.

“Thank you, by the way. I never said that.”

Kenny wrapped his arms around your legs and grinned up at you.

“I'm just happy to see the old you. Even as little as it is.”

------

You've mentioned your folks a few times as well as your sister. You mind if I ask why you can't stay with them?

Don't mind you asking. Parents live in Jersey now and I'm not looking to move out of the city. Kris lives with them when she's not in the hospital.

you that attached to the city?

Once you're here, who would want to be anywhere else?

I can respect that

------

You having a bad night?

Bad year. I want to get out of this apartment so that they can be alone. I'm just getting really tired of having to rely on other people.

I don't know your price range but I can look around. I have some people I could ask

You don't need to do that. I already take advantage of you enough

I'm giving you permission to take advantage of me however you want

------

That last message had made your whole body turn warm. It didn't make sense given the fact that you'd never seen Billy or knew much about him personally, but those words made you feel almost lightheaded.

At the same time, there were loud sirens going off in the back of your head. Paul had been a smooth talker. He had painted picture after picture of all these things you'd only ever let yourself dream about. And then he became the thing you had nightmares about.

You didn't respond to the text but a couple of hours later, you got another text.

I didn't mean it like that. Don't want you to think that I'm hitting on you or something.

Or something, you thought to yourself as you typed out a response.

Never crossed my mind

------

The alcohol was like grease on a wheel. You moved with the music that pumped from the stereo in the corner of the bar. For the first time in a long time, you felt alive.

“Wowza girly, you're gonna burn the place down,” Ethan cheered as he joined you on the floor.

He was careful to let you see that he was approaching before he wrapped his arms around you, moving with the music. Both him and Kenny were always careful like that. They'd been the ones to see you for the first time after Paul had gotten abusive.

You were thankful for their care and gentleness. It was thoughtful in a way a lot of people weren't.

After dancing got tiring, you dropped into a chair next to another friend. Kenny had taken your spot with Ethan and the two of them danced together.

It wasn't that Billy was on your mind constantly, but he was there a lot. Since the conversation where he'd very bluntly told you he wasn't hitting on you, your conversations had been stilted to say the least.

Oddly enough, you thought you missed him.

With that in mind, you pulled your phone out to check the thread. Mostly just general greetings, nothing like it was before.

Confidence provided by alcohol, you typed up a message.

Why do you never say anything about yourself? Something real

The lack of spelling mistakes and the fact that it actually made sense had you satisfied as you hit send.

The satisfaction went away pretty quickly when his reply came in.

You're kidding right

It didn't even deserve a question mark. You furrowed your browser as you stared at the phone.

Im not kidding. You ar3 alwaus talking about me, but never about you. I don't know anything about uou

That time you noticed the spelling mistakes, but not until you sent the message. Shit. You didn't want it to be obvious that you were drunk.

I don't even know your name. You're saved in my phone under your fucking star sign. Wanna tell me why you're drunk texting me this bs right now?

You had the sudden urge to call him and chew him out, but that was crossing a line in this timid relationship the two of you had. Instead you blinked a few times to try to focus your eyes before you began to type again.

I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about the fact that you never talk about yourself. It always about me.

But you're right, I'm drunk.

You stared at the phone for a long time, watching the little sign that said he'd read the messages. But you didn't see that he was replying.

You looked you and watched Kenny and Ethan wrapped around one another, so very much in love. Then you looked back down at your phone.

With a deep breath, you typed something else.

And my name is Y/N

------

The next morning while you nursed your hangover, your phone started to blink with a new text. You groaned as you held it a little ways away from your face so that you wouldn’t be blinded when you unlocked the device.

There was a link from Billy. There wasn’t an accompanying text, just the link. Your first thought was that it was spam, but you decided to give it a shot.

It opened up to about half a dozen rental listings in the city. They ranged from exactly your price range to ridiculously expensive. You clicked through them for a bit before you went back to the thread.

You didn't have to do that, but thank you. Those are some good leads for me to look into.

You didn't want to be beholden to Billy but something told you that he didn't see it that way. And sure enough, thirty minutes later when you got out of your shower, his reply told you as much.

I don't look at it as something I had to do. I wanted to.

You skimmed back up at the conversation from the night before and winced. You weren't at your best when you'd been drinking, but especially not with you unable to get Billy's earlier brush off out of your mind.

Why would he be flirting with you? Neither of you knew what the other looked like. Until last night, he didn't even know your name.

You should apologize. At the very least you should tell him that you hadn't meant it like it sounded.

Before you got the chance, your phone lit up with a new text.

I was safe havened in Albany. Grew up in the system. The moment I aged out, I joined the Marines. They put me through college and then they put me through hell. I came out the other side a survivor that has a lot to be thankful for.

You wanted to tell him that he didn't need to tell you this, but it would contradict your fit the night before. No, this was his way of reaching out, of showing more of himself to you.

It was your turn to offer an olive branch.

I've never been to Albany. How is it?

You didn't have to wait long for the reply.

It sucks

------

For a while, things start to look up. Your job was still kind of crappie but you started to enjoy parts of it. One of the apartments that Billy linked you to accepted your application and you were on the verge of moving in. And you and Billy were actually becoming friends.

It was the biggest surprise really. You hadn't expected much when you sent the message to Curtis, but you definitely didn't expect Billy. And upon starting to talk to him, you didn't expect for that to be the best part of your day.

The conversations changed. Instead of centering around you and your stuff, it became more of a friendship. He told you about his life, you told him about yours.

He owned a company, although he wouldn't specify what the company did. He also made it sound like he'd been on some sort of leave from the company recently but he didn't give specifics.

You knew he lived not far from Kenny and Ethan. That was probably the hardest part; knowing he was so close and yet not having a way to reach out to him. In person.

You hadn't broached the subject of meeting in person. You weren't sure how it'd go over so you held it in.

With everything starting to fall together, it made sense that something had to give. It just happened that the thing that finally did break was your sister.

A panicked phone call from your mom had you grabbing your stuff in the middle of the night to catch a taxi. Usually you'd take the subway but work had given you a raise so you weren't worried about money anymore.

You just wanted to be with your sister.

You made your way to her room. Inside was your mom and dad, but her bed was empty.

“Where's Kris?”

Your dad looked up at you, tears in his eyes.

“They took her back. They are going to check on the baby but there's a chance they may have to do an emergency c-section.”

Fear gripped you. You covered your mouth with your hand as you let yourself slump into their waiting arms.

“You said she had a seizure? Do they know what caused it?”

It was your mom who answered as she wiped away a tear from your cheek.

“They said it could be any number of things. The neurologist is with her just in case.”

For the next hour you watched your parents pace nervously around the private hospital room. At some point your mom sat down, her eyelids drooping as she tried to force herself to stay awake.

“I'm gonna go get us some coffee,” you offered quietly as you went over to your mom to squeeze her hand. “You guys want anything else?”

“No sweetie,” your mom said gratefully as she released your hand. “Coffee should do the trick.”

Despite telling them that you would get it, your dad handed you his card. You grabbed your phone and your wallet before you slipped into the hallway.

Hospitals always freaked you out, but there was something especially disconcerting about a hospital at almost four in the morning.

You'd visited Kris enough to be able to find the vending machine without any help. You stared at the coffee machine with tired eyes for a few minutes as you tried to force yourself to calm down.

Kris was fine. She was surrounded by doctors. Her and the baby were going to be fine.

Without thinking, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and pulled up your thread with Billy. After a moment of hesitation, you told him what was going on.

My sister had a seizure. They took her back to do some tests. They may have to do a c-section for the baby. I've been at the hospital for over an hour and I'm worried shitless.

You weren't sure why you sent the text at first. You'd needed comfort and he was the first person you could think of to give that to you.

While you looked around for a tray to be able to carry the cups back to the room, you felt your phone start to vibrate. Only it didn't just vibrate once, but continuously.

A phone call.

A look at the display showed Billy's name flashing. Your first instinct was to freeze but you knew that if you missed this window, chances were you wouldn't get a second chance.

You quickly swiped to answer the call.

“Hello?”

The silence that met you made you wonder if he'd dialed you on accident. But then…

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice different than what you expected somehow. “I thought maybe a phone call would be more appropriate than a text message right now.”

His voice was smooth. There was a bit of a New York accent mixed in there, soft enough that you only hear it on some of the words. You didn't think you'd have heard it if you hadn't been listening so intently.

“Yeah, that’s uh, that's a good guess. I'm sorry if I woke you.”

There was a deep, rich chuckle on the other end of the line that made your breath catch.

“Nah, I wasn't sleeping. I was working out when I saw your text.”

Working out. Your mind tried to conjure the image but without knowing what he looked like, nothing came to you.

“You okay?” Then you heard him swear slightly under his breath. “Fuck, of course you're not okay. I just meant–”

“I know what you meant,” you offered easily, because you did. “I appreciate it, really. I can't tell you how nice it is to finally put a voice to a name.”

There was a beat of silence where you had to wonder if you'd said the wrong thing. Then he was speaking once again.

“I don't want to keep you while you're probably with your family. I just wanted to say that I'm here if you need to talk to someone. Anytime, day or night,” he added, his voice a little lower than it had been before.

A jolt of heat went through you at that tone, but you shook your head. Not only was now not the time, but he'd already told you that he wasn't flirting with you. You needed to get over yourself.

“Thanks Billy,” you said with as much sincerity as possible. “I'll text you when I know more?”

A beat of silence and then, “Or you can call. I don't have any plans so I'm here if you need me.”

A surge of affection went through you for this man you barely knew.

“Thank you for that. I'll call once I know more,” you promised.

After a quiet goodbye from both of you, you ended the call. It had been absolutely thrilling to hear his voice for the first time.

You just wished it was under better circumstances.

------

You sent the pictures to Kenny and Ethan; they had both been checking in with you since they woke up and saw your message on the bathroom mirror.

The first picture was just of the baby. He had been asleep, swaddled in a blue and white checked blanket. He had your sister’s nose and your mom swore that the face he made when he was sleeping was just like the one you’d made as a baby.

The second picture was of you holding the baby. You looked exhausted but so happy, a smile on your lips as you looked down at the bundle in your arms. Your dad had snapped the picture and sent it to you.

Kenny and Ethan reacted with multiple exclamation marks and emojis that made you laugh. Kenny was also the one that asked how your sister was doing.

She’s sleeping right now, but the doctors think she’ll be okay. She’s gotta stay here for a while, but the baby will be in the NICU for at least another week before he can be released so it works out.

The room was quiet, your sister’s breathing mixing in with the machines that were monitoring her. Your parents had gone home to rest for a few hours before they’d come back. You didn’t mind watching over your sister for the time being.

There weren’t any new messages from Billy, but you still brought up the thread. You told him you’d keep him updated and you had for the most part, but the last few hours had been so chaotic that you hadn’t reached out in a bit. You knew he wouldn’t blame you for that, but you wanted him to know that things were okay.

You tapped to add a photo to the text message. You hesitated after you added the picture of the baby, your eyes on the other photo you had been sending people. Did you want to cross that line? He’d know what you looked like if you did that. Did you care?

There was a small part of you, the part that still shied away from men with the vivid memory of Paul in your head, that told you not to send it. But the rest of you wanted to take that leap.

There was something about Billy that made him the exception to most of your rules.

With that in mind, you added the second photo as well. You went back to the text and typed in A healthy baby boy. And I swear this isn’t the first time I’ve held a baby, he’s just so small.

Your heart thundered in your chest as you sent the pictures. You closed your eyes for a second before you locked the phone and put it down on your lap.

Kris was still asleep, her nose crinkling as she dreamed. She hadn’t gotten to hold the baby yet; once she was out of surgery and the doctors were certain she wasn’t going to have another seizure, she’d been brought back to the room but she was sleeping it all off. You wanted to be here when she woke up in case she freaked out about obviously not being pregnant anymore; you weren’t sure if she was aware that the she’d had the baby.

Your phone started to buzz and you smiled down at it to see that Billy was calling you again. You went over to the corner of the room, looking out through the window as you accepted the call.

“Hey, you didn’t have to call again,” you said quietly, perching on the counter with the window at your back, “I just wanted you to know that everything was okay. My sister, the baby, they’re both fine.”

“That’s wonderful Y/N,” he said, a smile obvious in his voice, “but I also wanted to check in on you. You’ve been at the hospital for almost twelve hours. Just wanted to make sure you’re taking care of yourself while all this is happening.”

You looked over at Kris and couldn’t fight the smile that overtook you.

“I’m great. Kris, my sister, is doing great. The baby is healthy and he’ll be able to go home in about a week. I’ve been so worried about what was going to happen that this feels like a lead weight being lifted from my soul. And yeah, I’m tired, but my parents will be back up here soon and then I can go home and crash for a few hours.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. And the kid too. What’s his name?”

You laughed as you stretched out your legs a bit, leaning back against the window.

“Kris has a few ideas, but she wanted to actually hold him before she decided on a name. I’m half tempted to pretend like I named him something ridiculous while she was asleep.”

That got a laugh from him. The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments. You watched your sister shift a bit in her sleep, her lips smacking as she did. You could see where the baby got it from.

You were just about to tell Billy that you should go, because you thought that Kris might be close to waking up, but his voice interrupted your thoughts.

“That was you, right, in the picture?” At your hesitant assent that yes, it was you, you heard him let out an audible breath. “You uh, don’t look how I pictured you.”

You bit your lip, ducking your head as you tried to come up with a response to that.

“Is that a good thing? Or…”

Whatever Billy’s answer would have been, you didn’t get a chance to hear it. Your sister let out a loud groan, her hand going to her stomach. You quickly told Billy you’d have to call him back, ending the call and letting the phone rest on the windowsill as you moved over to Kris’s side.

“Where–”

You grasped her hand and waited until her eyes met yours before you smiled down at her.

“Morning sis. You’re on a lot of drugs right now, so you’re probably a little out of it. How much do you remember?”

Her free hand went up to her head. She was blinking rapidly as if trying to clear her fogged senses.

“I had a headache. I think I remember a nurse asking me some questions, maybe? And then they said something about the baby?” Her hand went to her stomach once more, her eyes widening. “Is he okay?”

“He’s great,” you said with a smile, feeling her relief race through her body. “They had to do a c-section, but he’s great Kris. They want to keep an eye on him for a week, but I think they’ll be keeping an eye on you for the same amount of time so it’ll be okay.”

She slumped back into her pillows a little.

“Can I see him?”

You smiled and gave her hand a squeeze before you pulled back.

“I’ll go get a nurse so that someone can go get him.”

Once in the hall, you let out a breath to release the tension you had been holding for a while. Relief spread through you like a physical presence. The baby was okay. Your sister was okay. And in a few moments, your sister would get to meet her son for the first time.

It was going to be okay.

------

You grabbed your phone to take a few candid pictures of Kris meeting the baby for the first time. You unlocked it and saw a text from Billy. Since the nurse wasn’t there with the baby yet, you quickly opened the message.

It’s definitely not a bad thing. I’ll talk to you later.

A smile spread over you at that, warmth curling in your stomach. You didn’t want to think that way, but you wondered if maybe Billy was pleasantly surprised by your looks. If there was even a small part of him that had found you attractive.

Casting that to the side for the time being, you opened up your camera. You were just in time to catch your sister bursting in tears the moment the nurse carried the baby into the room.

------

Things started to come together after that.

The job had gotten better now that you’d been doing it longer. Your bosses had been pleased with your work and even mentioned maybe turning you into a trainer at some point.

Kris had moved in temporarily with your parents while she healed up. You went to Jersey to see them as much as you could. Well, mostly just to see baby Liam.

And then there was the thing with Billy. Since he had made the leap into phone calls, the two of you were in near constant contact. You still preferred to send a text and see if he could talk, but he never turned you down.

The only time you called him without checking first was your first night in your new apartment. Kenny and Ethan had left with the half empty pizza box, leaving you in the middle of your living room floor with a thing of beer and all of your boxes from storage.

It wasn’t a lot, but it was yours. You had been so happy that you had grabbed the phone and called Billy without hesitation.

“Hey,” he greeted sounding pleased to hear from you. “This is a nice surprise. What’s up?”

You smiled and leaned back so that you were lying down in the middle of the floor.

“I am about to spend the first night in my own apartment and I owe it all to you,” you said with a smile so wide that it hurt your cheeks. “If you hadn’t sent me those listings, I don’t think I ever would have found this place.”

Or maybe you would have but it would have taken a lot longer.

“I’m glad it’s working out for you,” he said with a smile in his voice, “you deserve it Y/N. I’m just glad that I was able to do something to help.”

You thought back to the first time you had messaged him, on accident or not, and how he had said that people wouldn’t go to him for comfort. And now when something happened to you, good or bad, he was the first person you thought of.

That thought stayed with you for a while after that conversation. Somehow this man who you hadn’t meant to contact had become very important to you. And it was more than it had started out to be. You would honestly say now that the two of you were actual friends.

But maybe you wanted more than that. Or maybe you just wanted more than you had. The texts, the phone calls, they made your days better. But you would like to actually meet the man that meant so much to you.

You just weren’t sure how to broach the subject.

A few weeks after you moved into your apartment, you were on the phone with Billy while he complained about something with his company. He always kept it vague, but from what you could tell, he was having problems with some of his outsourced help.

You weren’t sure where the courage came from, but you said the words before you could think twice.

“You know, if you wanted to get together for a drink and complain about this in person, I can think of a few places nearby that have pretty good food.”

The silence was almost deafening.

“I don’t, well, I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

It felt like a kick to the chest. You hadn’t been aware how much you’d been hoping for this until it was pulled away.

“Oh, yeah, I understand,” you said, hoping that he couldn’t hear the disappointment in your voice. “It was just a thought. Don’t worry about it.”

Embarrassment and rejection spread over you, heat filling you face as you tried to think of any way to change the subject. You were also thinking about maybe changing your name and leaving the city, but only a little bit.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he explained quickly, his words a rush as if he knew what you were thinking. “I’d love to get a drink with you. I just don’t think right now is a good time.”

Did he mean right now as in today, a nondescript Tuesday? Or did he mean at this point in your friendship?

“Okay,” you said quietly, drawing the word out a few extra seconds. “Well let me know if you change your mind?”

“I will,” he promised, his voice a little more sure than it was before. “I will.”

------

The picture of you from the hospital was the first that you sent, but not the last. It wasn’t always of you but of something you came across, but just like the phone calls, it was a change in the routine. Every now and then there would be part of you in the photo. And then finally you just took the dive and sent him a selfie of you on the subway one day.

The longest part of my day is what you had captioned the photo. You were pulling a face to the camera, but you still thought it looked like an okay picture.

You saw when he opened the message. You saw him start to type and then watched the bubble disappear. That happened twice more before a response finally came through.

You look amazing for someone who spends all day talking about medical waste.

As if those two things were mutually exclusive, but you had a feeling he just wanted a reason to compliment you. You smiled and started to respond but a message came through from him.

It was a photo. Your heart started to race in anticipation and you couldn’t help the disappointment when you opened it to see that it wasn’t a photo of him. Not really.

It was a desk with papers scattered over it. There was a glass of some amber liquid and a hand wrapped around the glass. It was a nice hand, you thought with a smile.

This is how I spend most of my evenings these days

It might not be his face, but it was something. You weren’t sure what it was about him, but you could tell that he had walls up. Considering you had refused to give him your name for the first few weeks that you knew each other, you couldn’t really blame him.

It opened up something new once more. Now he replied to your photos with pictures of his own. There was never a picture of his face, but the photos did help you start to piece together a mostly complete image of the man you talked to.

He was tall, if the length of this legs were any indication. You were more than a little obsessed with his hands; it wasn’t just dirty thoughts although there were plenty of those. You could also tell from a few pictures that included his torso that he wore a lot of suits. There was even one picture where he’d been in bed that you spent a lot of time thinking about.

There’s no way he could take a picture of his bare stomach and his legs which were barely covered by a sheet and think that it was in any way platonic. You spent a lot of time staring at the lines of his abs because it kept you from trying to figure out if the bulge was from the sheet being bunched up or… from something else.

You decided to test a theory. If he was going to send that picture without a hint as to if you should comment or not, you were going to do the same. As you got ready for sleep, you decided to do something different than your usual ratty t-shirt and sweats.

It wasn’t easy to take the picture. You weren’t wearing a shirt or a bra, but you were on your stomach so nothing was visible except your bare back. And the soft cotton shorts that looked more like underwear than anything else. You positioned the camera so that it caught the fact that you were nude from the waist up. With your head on the pillow, you gave a lazy smile to the camera and snapped the picture.

Once you were satisfied that it looked alright but not like you were trying too hard, you added a caption and sent the photo to Billy.

Sweet dreams!

You quickly got up and put on the ratty t-shirt that you had had on standby. You left on the shorts because they were actually pretty comfortable. By time you got back to the bed, your phone was blinking with a message.

From Billy. As if it could have been anyone else.

I don’t think sweet is the word to describe my dreams after that

You bit your lip as you rolled over in the bed, typing up a response.

Oh? And what word would you use?

His reply came in seconds of him reading your text.

Wet

Your breath caught in your throat at that simple word and what he meant by it. Heat spread down your chest and lower, so much lower. You clenched your legs together, burying your face into your pillow as you tried to calm your breathing. So he wasn’t as unaffected by you as you had once thought.

Your phone buzzing had you sitting up in a hurry. Billy was calling you. After those texts, you weren’t sure you could talk to him without bursting into flames.

Finally, something good came from the two of you only talking over the phone and not in person.

“Hello?” God, were you really that breathless? Way to be obvious.

“Hey,” he greeted back, his voice almost apprehensive. “Listen, I didn’t want to do this over a text. If I overstepped with that, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said something like that without–”

“Yeah, please don’t take that back. Not unless you didn’t mean it,” you added because now you were feeling a little insecure.

You heard him let out an audible sigh.

“I meant it,” he said lowly, his voice making your stomach flip. “You’re gorgeous. And that photo? Kind of broke me.”

“Oh. Well there’s always more where that came from,” you teased as you fingered the hem of your shirt.

He groaned, the noise loud in your ears. You couldn’t help but wonder in what other circumstances he’d make noises like that. If you could make him make that sound again. How it would feel against your skin.

“Y/N, if you–”

He was going to give you a chance to back down with your dignity intact but you’d decided that dignity wasn’t that important right then.

“Do you want me to tell you what I thought when you sent me that first picture? The one where you were holding a glass of alcohol and surrounded by papers?”

“Sure.” His voice was so low that you barely heard it.

“I was thinking about your fingers. They looked long, strong. I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d be good at. Playing the piano, maybe. But I also thought they’d be good at other things. And I couldn’t stop thinking about what they’d look like against my skin.”

It wasn’t the sexiest thing you’d ever said, but you’d never done this before. It was new territory for you but like so many other times, you jumped head first in with Billy at your side.

“You sent that one picture of you in a skirt and all I could think about was sliding my hand up your thighs.” He seemed almost timid as he spoke, as if he wasn’t sure this is what you wanted. At your very approving noise, his tone got a little more confident. “Wanted to know if I could make you come apart with just my hands.”

You bit your lip as you squeezed your thighs together again.

“Considering how good you’re doing with just your voice? I’m pretty sure you’d have no trouble with your hands.”

He laughed, low and short. You had the phone pressed so hard to your ear that you were pretty sure you could hear his breathing pick up at that.

“You thinking about my hands on you? Running up your thighs? That picture didn’t leave much to the imagination,” he reminded you in a downright filthy tone, earning a muffled moan as your hips gave aborted little thrusts. “What about you, huh? Have you ever touched yourself and thought about me?”

You hadn’t. It felt like a betrayal of your friendship so you never crossed that line. But now? You dragged your nails up your thigh, biting your lip at the feeling. Then you cupped yourself, the heel of your palm pressing down against your clit through the shorts.

“I am now,” you whispered, voice breathy and stuttered as you thrust against your hand. “Have you? Thought about me like that?”

You needed to know. His answer was a moan, deep and guttural as if he was taking himself in hand.

“I wish I could see that,” you said with a laugh as you slipped your hand under your shorts, fingers slipping between your folds to tease at your clit. “It’s not just your dreams that are wet,” you teased breathlessly.

He moaned again, earning a grin from you.

“You’re wet just from my voice? Like it that much?” His breath audibly hitched. “Fuck I don’t think I’ve been this hard this fast before. Pretty sure I’m lightheaded.”

You laughed, biting your lip as your fingers continued to play with your clit. You’d never laughed while doing something like this before. Sex with Paul had always been either perfunctory or a terrifying experience. And before then it was always just both you and your partners trying to get off and get gone.

Your relationship with Billy, as strange as it was, was the first time you’d ever felt like this before.

“Only enough blood to work one head at a time,” you joked, your eyes closing as you started to push a finger inside. “Your hands look bigger than mine. I wonder how many fingers I could take.”

“Fuck Y/N,” he said around a groan, a slight laugh at the end. “I bet you could take however many I gave you. Bet I could make you scream.”

You bet he could too. You back arched as you pumped two fingers in and out, the heel of your palm rubbing almost painfully against your clit. It’d been a long, long time since you’d been this turned on and you knew you wouldn’t last long. You bit your lip to hold in a whine, but Billy’s voice called out to you.

“C’mon, you don’t have roommates anymore. Lemme hear you. Don’t hold back,” he half pleaded, half demanded, his own breathing coming out in bursts. He must be close too.

You let down your guard, letting him hear the noises you made. Normally you’d be too embarrassed but right then, all you wanted to do is let him hear you as you came apart at the seams. You arched and writhed as your hand moved, fucking yourself hard and fast. Your other hand released the phone, trapping it between your ear and shoulder so that you could reach under your shirt and squeeze your breast.

“Billy,” you called on a gasp, his name tearing out of you as you got closer to your climax. “Please Billy, I’m so close.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for. You were dizzy with arousal, your whole body aching with need and so close to release. Whatever you wanted, Billy seemed to understand your pleas.

“C’mon Y/N, come for me. Lemme hear you. Imagine it’s my hand on you, making you feel that good. C’mon, let go.”

You cried out wordlessly as your orgasm finally crashed over you, clamping your thighs together so hard you were worried you might break your own hand. You came back to your senses in time to hear as Billy swore through his own orgasm, your name falling off his lips a few times.

You slumped back on the bed, chest heaving as you fought for air. You knew you’d never come like that before, never felt your body lose all energy the moment it passed. If that’s what you had been missing all this time, no wonder people talked about sex all the time.

And that wasn’t even sex. That was just you with your own hand and Billy’s voice in your ear. Imagine how it’d be in person.

That felt like a splash of ice cold water. You sat up in the bed, pulling your hand out of your shorts and wincing as wiped your hand off on your shirt. You were holding the phone to your ear still, but it was quiet on the other line.

Maybe he had fallen asleep? It would be for the best. You needed to think. Before you could figure out if you should just hang up, Billy’s voice called to you.

“Is it… are you okay?”

How honest should you be? You bit your lip. Then you curled your legs up and into your chest.

“I just… wasn’t expecting that? That we did something like that and I’ve never even seen your face.”

You just wanted to be honest with him. After what you’d just shared, surely you owed him that much. His continued silence made you start to feel a little uncomfortable but you didn’t say anything.

“Without seeing my face, you can imagine whatever you want,” he said bitterly, surprising you.

“I don’t want to imagine anything or anyone else. I just would like to have been able to picture you, is all.”

He spoke before you could try to explain.

“Well we don’t have to worry about it, because it won’t happen again.”

You called his name, but the line dropped. With tears starting to gather in your eyes, you tried to call him back but it went straight to voicemail.

You hesitated as you brought up your text thread. Biting your lip, you typed up a message to him.

I don’t know what I did wrong. I know that you have your reasons for not showing me your face, but after that? You have to know that I don’t care what you look like. If that’s what this is about. I just want you Billy, no matter what.

You hadn’t meant to be that honest with him, but you couldn’t deny it anymore. You wanted Billy; you wanted his friendship, you wanted his wit, you wanted his deep philosophies, you wanted his corny jokes. You wanted a chance to meet the man you were falling for.

You stared at the little notification that would tell you he had read the message, but it didn’t appear. The longer you stared, the harder it got to see because tears had started to fall.

Even when you finally went to sleep, there was nothing to show that Billy had read your message.

------

“You look like shit,” Kenny said as he stepped into your apartment. “No seriously, I haven’t seen you this bad since Paul. What’s going on?”

You wiped at your eyes and gestured for him to follow you to the couch. There you grabbed your phone, a comforting gesture. It’d been five days and you still hadn’t heard from Billy. Sometime the morning after he’d hung up on you, you’d noticed that he had read the message you sent. But there still hadn’t been a reply.

He ignored all of your phone calls. You sent a few more texts, asking him to please talk to you, but they were met with silence.

They were all read, but none of them were replied to. It hurt so much that you finally stopped texting him. But it didn’t mean you gave up on hoping for a reply.

Kenny mentioning that he hadn’t seen you like this since Paul had almost made you laugh. You felt pathetic, but you knew it was true. As your best friend wrapped his arm around you, you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself cry for the first time since that night.

“Y/N, you’re scaring me. What happened?”

It took a few tries before you finally explained it.

“Remember how I said I contacted that Curtis guy? Well, it turns out I had the number wrong and I got someone else instead.” Kenny started to get worried, but you shook your head as you tried to wipe away your tears. “It was this guy who was funny and nice and even though he wasn’t who I meant to talk to, I kept in touch with him. We’ve been talking for a few months now.”

You explained it all to him. For the first time, you laid it all out on the table. You started with how much his original messages helped you, to your drunken text about him not talking about himself, to him calling while you were at the hospital with Kris, to the flirty texts and pictures. You didn’t exactly mince words when you told him about the phone sex, although you didn’t go into detail.

And you ended it by telling him about Billy’s reaction when you mentioned how you’d never seen his face before.

“He just hung up? And now the bastard is ghosting you? Give me your phone, let me give him a piece of my mind,” he joked as he reached for your phone. Then he reached out to cup your cheek. “Forget him babe. If he can’t see that you were genuinely interested in him without even seeing him and therefore wouldn’t give a damn if he looked like a tree, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

You knew he’d say something like that because that was just the kind of guy Kenny was. You leaned into his arm and sighed, your eyes darting over to your phone.

“Easier said than done,” you complained lightly.

Even if you could forget him, you weren’t sure you really wanted to. Despite how it ended, knowing Billy had really opened you up. You didn’t want to forget that too.

------

“Who is a handsome boy? That’s right, it’s you,” you cooed at Liam, bouncing him a bit in your arms. “God you made one cute kid sis. It must have skipped you and gone straight to him.”

Kris swatted at you with the towel she was folding.

“I thought you came over here to spend time with us, not insult me. Just for that, you’re on diaper duty.”

You grinned at her and then looked back down at the baby in your arms. As far as you could tell, he didn’t look anything like his deadbeat dad who had disappeared the moment he found out he’d knocked your sister up. She had never really been scared to do it alone, not in the way you had expected her to be. No, her fear hadn’t come until they told her it was a high risk pregnancy.

But it worked out in the end. There was a happy baby boy that was healthy as an ox and your sister was all patched up too. She’d even probably be able to have more kids down the road if she wanted.

You’d finally told Kris everything about Billy. She had taken the high road and hadn’t said ‘I told you so’ even though she had. She’d told you that you’d get attached and get hurt, but you’d ignored her.

It was your job as her little sister to not listen to her. You were pretty sure you’d signed a contract at birth.

“You thinking about that douchebag again?”

You snorted as you looked over at Kris. She was sitting in the recliner with laundry piled up on the coffee table, grinning at you as she folded it all. And while once upon a time douchebag would have referred to Paul, you knew she meant it about Billy this time.

“Kenny said I should forget him,” you replied as you looked back down at Liam who was yawning, his eyes starting to droop.

“I always liked that guy,” Kris said as she handed you Liam’s pacifier.

You pressed it against his lips and watched as he immediately put it into his mouth, the gentle sound of sucking filling the silence as he slowly started to drift off. You tucked him up into your arms and rocked back and forth to help lull him to sleep.

“The thing is, I don’t want to forget Billy. Meeting him, our conversations and what came of it? It showed me that I can open up to people still. After everything with Paul, I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to that point again, but I did. And it’s because of Billy.”

Kris raised her eyebrow at you, obviously not believing that was all.

“And because you’re still in love with him, right?”

Well. You’d never been able to lie to your sister.

“Yeah, apparently,” you sighed as you looked down at Liam. “It’s been almost two weeks. If I can’t forget Billy, maybe it’s at least time for me to try to move on.”

It was the least you could do.

------

The company you were going to was actually the one that Ethan worked for. He had told you that he’d meet you at the front door so he could lead you around. Apparently the company had recently added a medical aspect and your company needed to make sure that they were not only equipped for anything they might take on, but also that they were prepared for any disposals.

Ethan met you at the front of the large warehouse like he said, grinning at you as he did.

“Welcome to Anvil,” he said as he held the door open for you. “I don’t know what all you need to see or do; Mr Russo doesn’t work from the office much since the accident.”

You pulled your tablet out of your bag and looked over at Ethan curiously as you unlocked it.

“The accident?”

Ethan motioned to his face before he opened another door for you, showing you into a large open space where people were working out and sparring.

“It’s the reason he looked into expanding with a few medics on the payroll. He was doing a job with one of his teams and there was an accident. Huge explosion, killed a few guys. He had been pulling the client to safety and got hit in the face by shrapnel.” He gestured to his face again, lowering his voice as the two of you passed by some of the recruits that were sparring. “He’s pretty scarred up. Guy was ridiculously hot before the accident and I think it’s the vanity that makes him stay home as much as he does now.”

You felt sympathy for this Mr Russo. You couldn’t imagine having to face a life after becoming disfigured like that. Hopefully he had people in his life that helped him.

“He’s still pretty hot, actually,” Ethan said as he bumped into your arm. “I’ve thought about hitting on him just so he knows that he’s not some kind of monster.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Before you could say anything else, Ethan gestured to a set of doors that were labeled Medical Office. When you pushed them open, you saw a few people milling around what resembled a doctor’s office.

“Guys, this is Y/N Y/L/N from that one medical company. She’s here to make sure we aren’t idiots when it comes to syringes,” Ethan joked with a wink in your direction. “Y/N, this is Jake Pell, Lorraine Morrow, and Curtis Hoyle. They are our medics.”

The name almost didn’t register, but then you were struck with it. The black man who was the third to shake your hand was the guy you were supposed to have sent a text to. Kenny had given you this man’s number in your time of need.

“Uh, hi,” you greeted, pulling your hand back and clearing your throat. You needed to be professional right now. “It’s not that we think you guys are idiots, but the government has very specific regulations for these kind of things. It’s my job to go to labs, medical offices, and apparently security firms who open medical offices to make sure that everyone is properly trained.”

Lorraine and Jake seemed to defer to Curtis, so you ended up spending more one on one time with him that you thought you would. Somehow you were able to curb your urge to tell him that you’d almost met him once more.

But every time you thought about mentioning it, mentioning that Kenny had tried to give you his number so that you could talk to someone, you thought about who you ended up talking to instead. At least this time when your mind went to Billy, there was a reason.

And you remembered that Billy had mentioned that he thought he knew the Curtis you had mentioned. The thought of Curtis knowing Billy, maybe knowing how to reach him since you had been ignored, made your chest hurt.

And yeah, maybe part of you wondered if there was any chance that Billy had mentioned you. Somehow you doubted it.

At some point in your tour around the office, making sure everything was up to standards, Curtis got a text message.

“Ah, the boss man is here,” he said as he looked up at you. “Does he need to be down here for this?”

“Well you three are the medics, so technically I just need to make sure that you guys know what you’re doing. But I do need him to sign a few things actually.”

Curtis nodded and typed something up. After a few moments, his phone dinged and he read it quickly.

“He’s gonna be in his office for a while. Once we’re done here, I can walk you up that way.”

You kept that in mind as you went over the rest of the information with them. Once you were satisfied, you had them sign off on the procedures. Then you turned to Curtis and gave him a smile.

“Lead the way Mr Hoyle,” you said with a nod.

Curtis walked beside you through the halls. You’d noticed the peculiar gait he had and it took a moment to realize that he probably had a prosthetic limb. You started to feel bad for asking him to take you but you remembered that he had offered.

At the office, you remembered what Ethan had said about Mr Russo’s scars. At least you would be prepared. You didn’t want the man to feel worse than he probably already did considering he apparently often hid himself from the world.

Curtis knocked on the door and pushed it open.

“Miss Y/L/N needs your signature,” he said before he stepped out. “It was nice to meet you. Thanks for the training.”

“Of course Mr Hoyle, thank you. I’ll email you all the copies of what you signed when I get back to the office.”

When you stepped into the office, you saw Mr Russo behind his desk. He was looking up at you curiously and you tried not to stare. You crossed over to his desk with the tablet in hand.

You knew what Ethan had meant. Yeah, the scars were bad, but he was still ridiculously attractive. It really wasn’t fair.

“Good afternoon Mr Russo. I just need a few signatures on these procedures. I’m going to email you and your people copies so you can look over it and reach out if you have any questions.”

Mr Russo still stared up at you, but the curiosity had turned to blatant staring at some point. You shifted on your feet as you held the tablet out, wondering why he wasn’t reacting at all.

Did you need to go get Curtis again?

“Mr Russo?”

He seemed to snap back to focus. He grabbed the tablet from you, standing up and walking over to your side as he looked it over. He removed the stylus and signed the first page, gesturing to you with it. You looked it over from the side and flipped through to the next page where you needed his signature.

“Right there,” you said as you tapped the box so he could sign something hastily. “Aaaaand here,” you added as you flipped to the next one.

Once he had finished signing, he held the tablet out to you. You reached out for it with a smile, your eyes darting from his intense gaze to the device. You reached out to accept the stylus but froze.

You had stared at some of the photos Billy had sent you for a long time. Almost to the point where you thought you could draw his hands from memory. Was it completely insane for you to think that these hands looked so much like his?

You looked back up and met his eyes as you took the stylus, your finger brushing against his. His mouth opened slightly, those dark eyes narrowing in on you.

“Thank you Mr Russo,” you said softly, uncertain. It was all in your head, right? You just missed Billy. “I’ll email the copies as soon as I can. It’s been a pleasure.”

You held your hand out to him and waited. After a moment, he wrapped his hand around yours, giving it a quick, perfunctory shake.

After you had your hand back, you slid the tablet back into your bag. You were very aware that Mr Russo was still staring at you. You gave him a brief smile and turned to leave, unsure what else to do.

As you reached the door, he spoke for the first time since you’d walked in.

“Y/N,” he called, his voice strained.

How… Curtis had referred to you as Miss Y/L/N and you hadn’t introduced yourself. It was the first thing that you thought when he’d said your name.

And then you realized that you recognized the voice. It was different in person, but it was still so familiar.

You’d missed it so much these past few weeks.

Back tense, you turned to look at him. He was still standing where you’d left him, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And even though there was no way that this was real, you couldn’t help but respond.

“Billy?”

His eyes widened and you watched him slump against the desk. It was him. After weeks of radio silence, weeks of missing someone you kept being told to get over, you were face to face with him.

You watched him swallow, his mouth working silently for a moment before he said your name again.

“Y/N, I can–”

No. Even the pleasure at hearing him say your name again, in person no less, wasn’t enough to overturn the pain you’d gone through for weeks.

“I’ll forward you the finalized copies shortly Mr Russo,” you said in what you hoped was a professional voice before you turned around to leave.

You barely refrained from running from his office, taking the steps two at a time to the front of the warehouse. You heard your name being called, but it wasn’t from Billy. Ethan was standing nearby, confusion on his face. He made his way over to you, his arm immediately going around your shoulders.

“You okay? You’re shaking,” he said as he looked over his shoulder in the direction you’d just come from. “What the hell happened in there?”

“It’s nothing,” you said, voice shaking and undermining what you were saying. “I’ll explain it to you later E, I promise, but I gotta get out of here.”

He nodded, guiding you towards the doors. You couldn’t help but peek over his shoulder. Billy was in the windows that had been behind his desk, overlooking the training area. You knew he could see you so you turned to look forward again.

“I’m calling Ken though. He’s off work today. I don’t like you leaving while you’re like this. I can ask Russo if I can leave early–”

“No, don’t,” you said in a rush, your eyes almost darting back up to where you’d seen Billy moments ago. “I’ll go straight to my office and finish this up and then I’ll go to your place. Please, don’t leave work because of this.”

You could tell that he wanted to push back, but instead he nodded. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead, walking you the rest of the way to the front.

“I’m still calling Kenny,” he said with a smile.

You didn’t expect any less.

------

Kenny had pulled you into the office and marched you over to the couch before you even had a chance to knock. After you’d gone to your office to email the papers to the people that needed them, you’d left work a little early and went straight to Kenny and Ethan’s place. And it seemed that Kenny had been waiting for you.

“So I get this long text from Ethan while I’m doing dishes, right? About how you had been at Anvil and the last he’d seen, you were fine, but then you come back and you look like you just saw a ghost. He told me that you wouldn’t let him ask off work to stay with you and he was worried. And I already don’t like my best friend being upset and my boyfriend being upset, but both of them? It was a fun afternoon.”

“Kenny,” you started, but he held up a hand and didn’t let you finish.

“I started to think about what it could have been because you’ve been doing great. Then I remembered that Curtis started to work for Anvil recently. Of course I discarded that idea because Curtis wouldn’t have done anything to hurt you. But then,” he said pointedly, letting you know that this was the part for you to focus on, “then I remembered his boss’s name. William Russo; known to most people as Billy.”

You felt sick. You weren’t even sure if you were crying or if your body was just shaking, but Kenny immediately wrapped his arms around you.

“It was him, wasn’t it? And he was there? How’d you recognize him?”

You wiped at your face but your hand came back dry.

“He uh, he recognized me. He just kept staring at me and I thought… but I wasn’t sure. I was just about to leave and he said my name.”

Him saying your name had always been one of your favorite parts of your phone calls. And the night… well, the night things had gone to hell, him calling out your name? You wished you could say that you didn’t hear it in your dreams, but it’d be a lie.

“Shit. Did he even try to explain why he ghosted you?”

You could vaguely remember him starting to say something before you cut him off. Maybe he had been about to explain, but you couldn’t hear it. You couldn’t listen to anything he had to say.

Kenny took your silence to mean that Billy hadn’t explained. He tugged you back into a hug and sighed, his hand pressing to the back of your head as he held you.

You would have to explain it all to Ethan. You doubted Kenny had betrayed your privacy by telling him before now, but he deserved to know.

You just hoped it wouldn’t affect him at work.

------

It was quiet in your apartment. You’d settled down in the chair, your legs drawn up to your chest as you stared at the muted television. Ethan now knew everything. After you told him what happened and talked to the two of them for a while longer, you had come home.

It’d been a long day and you should want to go to bed, but you knew your dreams would be of Billy. Now you knew what he looked like so it would give those memories and fantasies a face.

Was that why he’d been so against you seeing his face? The scars were bad, sure, but you didn’t care. Even if he hadn’t still been ridiculously attractive, you didn’t think those scars would have changed how you felt about him.

Your phone lit up on the coffee table and you sighed. Kenny had told you he’d call and check in, but you thought he had meant tomorrow.

When you grabbed the device, you nearly dropped it when you saw that Billy’s name was flashing on the screen. In your shock, you let it ring through. Once the screen went dark, you wondered if you should try to call him back.

Did you want to talk to him? You deserved an explanation at least.

Before you could convince yourself to call him back and demand an explanation, the phone started to ring again. This time you answered.

“Well it only took you three weeks,” you said in a flat voice, your hand shaking against your knee. “Granted I’m well aware you wouldn’t have called if I hadn’t come to Anvil, so I guess it shouldn’t count.”

“I wanted to explain at the office, but you didn’t seem like you wanted to hear it.”

You settled into the chair with a frown.

“Because it was three weeks too late, Billy. I tried, you know, I tried to get an explanation from you. Hell, I would have accepted you telling me to fuck off. But instead I just got ghosted. And right after…” You couldn’t fill in that blank, but you didn’t think he needed you to. “So no, I didn’t want to hear your explanation today. I shouldn’t have to hear some bullshit three weeks later just because I was there.”

There was nothing but silence on the other line. You pulled the phone back and saw that it was still connected, so you knew he hadn’t hung up. This time.

“Why did you even… you could have just stayed quiet. I wouldn’t have known that it really was you. I could have just left, no drama.”

He would have known it was you, but you could have been blissfully unaware.

“I thought you deserved to know,” he said softly, to the point that you had to strain your ears just to hear him. And then a little clearer, “What do you mean you wouldn’t have known it really was me?”

You hadn’t realized you’d said that. You closed your eyes but decided what did this matter? You’d already had your heart broken; a little embarrassment was nothing, right?

“Your hands. When I was taking the stylus from you, I saw your hands. They just, well, they just looked familiar. I told myself it was just in my head. That I missed you and that’s why I thought they looked like yours.”

This time the silence was a little more pronounced. You were just about to pull the phone back and check again when he cleared his throat.

“You missed me?”

You felt like cold water had been dumped over your head. It was your turn to clear your throat as you tried to come up with something to say to that, some response. You weren’t sure why you decided to just lay it all out for him, but you were tired of holding it in.

“Yeah, I missed you. You were important to me. You made me happy, even just… just as friends. And then what happened after, well, after what we did, it…” You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You took a deep breath, your eyes screwed shut as you continued. “I don’t think I ever told you about Paul, my ex. He made it so that my whole world revolved around him and then when that wasn’t enough, he got violent. And because of that, you know, I thought I wouldn’t ever get to that place again. I thought that I couldn’t handle intimacy in any form because it was going to make me vulnerable and I never wanted to be in that place again.”

You were crying. You wiped at the tears, but it didn’t matter. It was plain in your voice that you were crying.

“And then I get to that point again, for the first time since everything went to hell, and it’s great. Not just because it’s great,” you stressed, unable to help the little laugh you let out at the word play, “but because it was someone that I trusted and that I thought… someone I cared about. And for a split second, I let myself think that being vulnerable wasn’t that bad. And then my heart is being ripped out of my chest and I’m left to pick up the pathetic pieces.”

The tears were still falling. You felt like your body had been dragged behind a car and all you wanted to do is hang up and go to bed, but you didn’t move. You tried to get your breathing under control, focusing on that first. Once you were sure you weren’t about to break down into sobs again, you tried again.

“I should have listened when my sister and Kenny and Ethan told me to get over you,” you whispered as you wrapped your arm around your legs.

And yet you still didn’t hang up. You rested your head on your knees and waited.

From the other end of the call, you heard his breath catch at that last part. Maybe you shouldn’t have included Ethan in the list, but it was true.

“I pushed you away,” he admitted, his voice thick with tension. “I know it was the coward’s way out, but I had my reasons. I figured if you saw my face that you’d–”

“That I’d what, run away screaming? You thought so little of me that you didn’t trust that I wouldn’t give a damn about some scars?”

“No,” he said in a raised voice, not quite yelling but close enough to make you jerk upwards in surprise, “no, I didn’t think that little of you. I think that little of myself. You never saw me before the accident, but yeah, I’ll admit to being insecure. And I didn’t think I was worthy of this thing with you unless it was anonymous. I figured that way you wouldn’t know what you were missing.”

He had said that without seeing his face, you could imagine whatever you wanted. It made sense, looking back, but it didn’t stop the hurt you felt. He had run away from you because of his scars; he didn’t even give you a chance to show him that it didn’t matter to you.

“If that’s how you felt, you should have just told me to stop. To stop sending the pictures, to stop flirting. When you called me, the things you said, I thought that you wanted me too, but if you didn’t want that, you should have–”

“Of course I wanted you,” he said quickly, drawing you up short in your emotional ramble. “When I realized it was you in my office this afternoon, I felt like I was having a heart attack. I heard your voice and I thought it was you, and then you were there—close enough to touch, to smell your perfume—and you looked so much better in person than you do in pictures. And you weren’t looking at me in fear or disgust. You just… looked at me.”

You let out a watery laugh, running your nails over the cloth that covered your knee.

“My first thought when I saw you was that it wasn’t fair that you were that attractive, actually,” you informed him as you sniffled, wiping under your eyes.

He sighed and you wondered what was going through his head.

“That night when you texted me, after I hung up, you said that you wanted me.”

There was a lump in your throat and no matter how many times you swallowed, it didn’t disappear. It felt like your heart was going to break all over again.

“Yeah, I d–did,” you said, stumbling over the last word and which tense you wanted to use.

You could hear him sigh again, the noise carrying over the line. You bit your lip to keep it from wobbling as you waited to see what he’d say.

“If there’s any chance that you still feel that way or that you might, some day, feel that way again, I just want you to know that I want to try again. No walls this time. I want to take you out on a date and meet your sister and your nephew and Kenny and Ethan—although I already know Ethan, actually—and I want to show you that I can do better. You deserve better and I want to give that to you.”

The tears on your cheeks were fresh. You dropped your forehead to your knees, not sure if you wanted to cry or laugh at that moment.

“You think it’ll just work like that? You want to do better and I deserve better and that erases what happened? Suddenly it doesn’t matter that we have phone sex and then two minutes later you break my heart?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said softly. And then a little firmer, “I know that I fucked up; I’m not denying that. What I’m saying is that I want to make it up to you. I’m sorry for what I did. I was sorry the moment I did it, but I stupidly thought I knew how it’d end so I decided to end it before it got that far. I fucked up. Let me show you how it should have gone.”

You sniffled as you sat up again, the beginning of something brewing in your chest.

“How should it have gone?”

There was an audible sigh of relief on the other end of the line.

“Well when you said that you didn’t want to imagine anyone else, I should have told you about my accident. I should have told you about the scars so that when I sent you a picture, you wouldn’t have been surprised. And then if you were sure that they didn’t bother you, I should have asked you out on a date. Maybe not somewhere too public because I still get looks and I haven’t figured out how to react yet, but somewhere with the two of us. I should have shown you that I was falling for you. And that you were the only thing that I wanted more than I wanted my face back.”

You were crying again, but it wasn’t in pain this time. Or maybe it was, but a different kind of pain. This was loss of something you could have had. Three weeks of silence when it could have been handled so differently.

But you didn’t want to dwell on that. You needed to make a decision.

You looked at the clock on your bookshelf and bit your lip. It was just after eight.

“Do you know that diner a few blocks down from Anvil, the one that’s open all night? I can’t remember the name,” you offered a little helplessly.

“Yeah?” He sounded so hopeful.

“It’s usually empty around this time except for the people that work there and a few college kids. Do you uh, would you want to meet me there?”

You held your breath as you waited for a response, but it was there before you had a chance to think twice.

“I can be there in twenty,” he replied easily. “And Y/N?”

Your name on his lips once more. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the sound.

“Yeah?”

You could hear a smile in his voice.

“Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Don’t make me regret it Billy, please. I don’t think I could handle that again.”

------

A kiss was placed to your cheek and you looked up, smiling as lips met yours in retaliation.

“Hi,” you mumbled into the kiss, clutching Billy’s collar and pulling him in a little closer. “I missed you.”

He pulled back long enough to mumble the words back before he kissed you again, diving in a bit deeper this time.

“Okay guys, there’s a baby present,” Kris complained with a grin as she switched Liam over to her other arm. “We gotta tell auntie to keep it PG, don’t we? Because she can’t keep her hands off her man and it’s gross.”

Billy settled in next to you in the booth, grinning over at Kris. Kenny and Ethan were on the inside of the half moon shaped booth, both of them rolling their eyes.

“Sorry Kris,” he offered, leaning over to tug on the blanket so that he could see Liam’s face. “And sorry Liam, but one day you’ll meet some girl and you’ll understand.”

“Hey, he could meet some guy,” Kenny complained with a pout, earning a kiss to the cheek from Ethan.

“Let’s not start debating the kid’s sexuality before he’s even a year old,” Ethan said, grinning at Kris as he did so.

“Touche,” Billy said as he raised the beer you had ordered him to his employee. Then he leaned into your shoulder. “Sorry I’m late, by the way. I got stuck in traffic.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, a move that had taken you a while to get him used to. You barely noticed the scars on his cheeks and while he was a great deal better now, you knew he still had moments of insecurity.

Hell, it’d taken all this time for him to start being able to go in public again.

“I’ll forgive you this time,” you joked as you laced your fingers with his, pushing a menu between the two of you so that you could both look. “Kenny was just telling us about him walking into his boss’s office and seeing her changing. He’s traumatized and it’s hilarious.”

Billy didn’t even get a chance to say anything before Ethan cut in.

“That’s why I always knock before I go into your office Billy,” he said with a grin, his eyes going between the two of you, “because I feel like I’d respect you more as a boss and Y/N more as a friend if I don’t see you two having sex.”

“Hey!” you cried, laughing even as you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Wait, you two haven’t actually had sex in his office, have you?” Kris looked between your ashamed face and Billy’s very satisfied smirk and let out a loud groan. “You two aren’t allowed to babysit Liam anymore. I don’t trust you guys not to go off into a dark corner to boink. Seriously, at what point in a relationship do you stop wanting to be all over each other?”

“Hopefully never,” Billy said as he brushed his nose against your cheek, making you smile.

“They’ll get out of that stage,” Kenny said with a wave of his hand. “Ethan and I have been together for five years and we’re not that bad.”

You gaped as you looked between the two of them.

“You’re kidding me, right? I had to buy earplugs my third day living with you guys and I was on the other side of the apartment. I feel bad for the people that share a wall with your bedroom.”

As the group dissolved into laughter at that, Kris jokingly scolding the two of them for scarring her baby sister, Billy wrapped his arm around your waist and tugged you in closer to him.

“Maybe because I almost lost the chance to ever get this, I don’t ever want to miss a chance again,” he whispered into your ear, just for you.

You looked up at him and smiled softly. The memory of the pain was so faint that you could almost laugh about it now. He’d more than made up for his poor reaction in the time that passed.

“I love you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” he replied back just as quietly, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. You could see the mischief in his eyes as he glanced over at the table where your friends and family were still distracted. “Wouldn’t want to sneak away to the bathroom or my car, would you?”

You grinned wide, kissing him again.

You really needed to thank Kenny and Ethan for having such horrible handwriting that you couldn’t tell the difference between Billy’s number and Curtis’s. The difference it made in your life was palpable and you couldn’t imagine a life without Billy.

Guess there was no such thing as a wrong number.

X

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[daily-dose-of-imagines]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔽𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝔻𝕒𝕪

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Heyo this is my first time writing on the blog so be kind. I just got obsessed with the idea of Aizawa being an elementary school teacher 

>> Admin B̷r̷a̷n̷d̷o̷

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Ok, maybe this won’t be so bad? 

He put on a fake smile and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. The bags under his eyes were somehow more apparent then usual. His face quickly faded into his trademark apathetic scowl. 

Who am I kidding? This is the worst possible situation. 

Aizawa sneered at the thought of his current situation. Of how his pristine English classroom was being taken from him because they needed “fresh blood”. Of how he was not only being forced into a new school, but also a new grade. He sighed (heavier than usual), leaving his dim apartment early, to beat traffic and give him time to dwell further on his current situation.

As he drove, his brain on went on auto pilot and all his worries and thoughts crossed his mind once again. Aizawa had never taught anything lower than 6th grade, and he never wanted to. It’s not that he didn’t like kids, it’s that he didn’t love kids. High schoolers were almost adults, so he didn’t have to sugar coat anything. No snack time, no name calling, no bullshit. The sudden unemployment was truly a wake-up call (not just because he would fall asleep in class), telling him that he needed to get his shit together. He was thankful that his good friend Nezu happened to have a job opening, he just wished it were at any other school.

Arriving at the school made him sick. The bright colors. The intricately hand painted signs reading “Welcome To The New Year!” and “Start the school year with a smile.” The line of staff waiting outside the school to welcome him. The line of staff? Jesus.

His wish to quietly slip into his new classroom vanished before his eyes. There was no way he could avoid meeting his new colleagues now. Hopefully, he thought, I can get through this without too much headache.

“SHOUTAAAAAAAAA!!!!”

And the headache began.

“Oh my god, Shouta! It’s been so long! And you never returned my texts?? I can’t believe we’re working together again! I thought you didn’t like elementary school?? Anyway, c’mon we need to get you all settled!! I heard you got fired?? What’s up with that? Did you- “

Before he could even fully get out of his car, Hizashi was pulling him toward the crowd of faculty almost against his will. The crowd was full of smiling faces, kind waves, and judging glances.

 Ugh

“Welcome Mr. Aizawa! I am glad that Mr. Yamada was telling the truth that he was a close friend. Well I know that our little pocket of perfect isn’t quite the high school setting you’re used to but believe me that you’ll love it soon enough.” Principal Nezu smiled happily and gestured to the quaint little school.

“Starting in the middle of the school year isn’t easy, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle it,” he added with a wink.

Aizawa glanced briefly at the bright marquee reading “U. A. Elementary School”, then back to the group of hopeful faces. He put on his best “I’m totally not wishing I was somewhere else right now” face, and /reluctantly/ expressed his joy to be there. 

With his seemingly pleasant response, the evaluative air cleared somewhat, and the gossipier teachers left the gathering, no longer interested.

Taking Aizawa’s arm, Nemuri pressed her chest against him, “Hate to interrupt but Shouta- Mr. Aizawa, really needs to get to his classroom.” With that, the tall woman, along with Hizashi, practically dragged the poor man away, though he was internally grateful to be away from the crowd.

They arrived at Aizawa’s new classroom, still full of the previous teachers’ belongings. He pulled himself away from the others, brushing himself off.

“Thanks Midnight.”

“Oh, stop with that,” Nemuri responded, fixing her immaculate hair in the reflection from the window, “I haven’t gone by that since college. No one here needs to know the escapades of Ms. Midnight.”

Aizawa chuckled lightly, “At least I have some familiar faces here, aside from Nezu.” He peered over to the other two, seeing their “trying to be respectful but insanely curious” faces. “Fine, I’ll address the elephant in the room. Yes, I was fired. No, it was not for selling drugs to the kids, Hizashi. I just… had trouble staying awake, apparently a few times too many.”

Hizashi sighed in defeat and pulled a twenty out of his pocket, handing it sadly to Nemuri.

“Good thing there was an opening here for you,” Hizashi replied, almost like a whine as he mourned his loss, “Too bad it came at the loss of Yagi. Poor guy having to be stuck at home after that dumb injury.”

Nemuri chuckled, “It’s his own fault for jumping out of the second story window to give one of his students the lunchbox they forgot.”

“He’ll be back next year, and I’ll be long gone. hopefully.” Aizawa interrupted, tying his long hair back. “Now can you two leave? I have kids coming in less than an hour to a teacher that could care less about them right now.”

Nemuri exhaled sharply through her nose, a smirk crossing her face, “You need a better attitude, my friend, or they will eat you alive.” She pushed herself off the desk, pulling Hizashi along.

“Good luck!” He called out, “let me know if I can help! The music room is always open for you!”

As the door slowly closed, Aizawa turned back to his new classroom. The desks were arranged in neat rows and columns, small pieces of tape on the carpeted floor to ensure that they remained in their neat arrangement. He was appalled by the disorganized mess that was Yagi’s previous desk arrangement.

Aizawa sat at his new desk, dropping his head into his hands. He had never taught 2nd grade before. Sure, he was certified to teach it, but that was more of a trophy to him than an actual career choice. Like when someone minors in art history. What made it especially difficult was that he was taking over a class run by the one and only Yagi Toshinori, legendary his teaching. He was the “symbol of peace” for teachers, doing interviews for local news stations and giving presentations for the school district.

The four of them (Yagi, Hizashi, Nemuri, and himself) had gone through college together, but lost touch as they all chose their path. Yagi with younger kids, Aizawa with teens, Hizashi with music, and Nemuri with administration. Aizawa knew that Yagi was a better teacher than him, and that he had big shoes to fill, literally.

Aizawa broke from his lamentation as the morning bell rang. He opened his door to be greeted with the cacophonous sound of 20 children itching the get into their classroom. He was nearly knocked over by the force of almost two dozen children running into inspect what the new teacher had done. Surprisingly, the new layout did not stop the wave of children, they all quickly found their name tags and sat down, most of them loudly complaining.

Aizawa moved to the front of the room and cleared his throat. Twenty small faces focused on him. “Good morning students. As you may know, Mr. Toshinori is injured and will not be able to continue teaching this year. My name is Mr. Aizawa and I’m going to be your teacher for the remainder of the school year-” A series of small hands shot up in front of him. He sighed, “Yes, you,” pointing to the small girl sitting politely in the front row.

“Excuse me, but why can’t Mr. Toshinori come back?” she asked, cocking her head.

Before he could answer, another young girl, this one with pink hair, jumped up, “Momo, he broke his butt, that’s why he can’t come back!”

“He didn’t break his butt! He broke his feet, stupid.” A blonde boy in the back stood up and pointed at her.

“Who are you calling stupid? I saw it, you buttface.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Seeing her mocking face, the boy began throwing his pencils at her, to which she started throwing her pencils. Momo began crying at the violence, while the other students began cheering for one of the other two students.

This was going to be a long day.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

As Nemuri entered the teacher’s lounge, she was greeted with the sight of Aizawa looking… well, dead. “Well, I was expecting this.” She commented, setting her stack of papers down and sitting on the table in front of him. “Rough day?” Aizawa merely groaned in response. She patted his head lightly, “You know what they say about kids, it’s like wrangling kittens.”

“I’ve never heard that.” He replied, lifting his head up to a more alive position. “I don’t know how he did it. Those kids just don’t listen.”

“How did you deal with your high schoolers?”

“None of us wanted to be there so we respected each other’s time and got shit done.”

Nemuri clicked her tongue, “It’s a wonder why you’re a teacher at all. You used to have passion for teaching, Shouta. Try to tap into some of that.” With that, Nemuri hopped off the desk, scooping up her papers, “If you need advice on how to deal with them, we’re here for you, all three of us.”

The door to the lounge closed softly behind, and he was once again alone. Aizawa hesitated at the thought of asking any of them for help. He had not spoken to any of them for years. While he enjoyed their company, Aizawa knew he did not belong. Nemuri, Hizashi, and of course Yagi, all had this passion and fire for education that Aizawa himself had lost years ago. It felt wrong to him to be there.

The soft chime of the lunch bell reminded Aizawa that he had to return to his classroom. Which he really did not want to do. The kids barely got along with each other, who they have known for months, how were they supposed to cooperate with him, a total stranger? He trudged back to his classroom, just as the students began pouring in. As they took their seats, he stood, and began writing their next lesson on the board. Once all were seated, he turned around to address them.

 “I am very disappointed with how the morning went.” At this remark, half the students rolled their eyes, while the other half looked like they were going to burst into tears. Aizawa stopped and began thinking. What would Yagi do in this situation? He would be cheery and upbeat and overly personal with the students. Well, he thought, nothing would hurt to try at this point.

He sighed, sitting down on his desk, “Listen guys, I know this is hard for you, its hard for me two. The only way we can make this work is if we give each other a chance and get to know each other. So..” he looked at the confused faces of the kids, “Let’s go outside.”

The students all filed outside behind Aizawa, confused yet intrigued. He turned to face them, “Now I have a task for you, we’re going to go on a hike around the school, and you’re going to tell me about everything interesting you see.” The students collectively gasped and nodded excitedly.

As the class walked around the school, Aizawa learned many things about the kids. Like how Tenya liked to walk this path with his brother, or how Shoto would take trips through the woods when he wanted to get away from his family, or how Yuga collect only “the prettiest and shiniest” rocks. Although this was far more effort than he usually put into teaching, Aizawa was having fun.

The week from that point on went… surprisingly well. The students slowly warmed up to Aizawa, and even began enjoying his teaching. They continued setting time aside for a class hike and decided that they would start a nature journal to write about what they saw on their hikes. Aizawa, even though he would never admit it, even started smiling more in class. Before he knew it, the end of the week had already come.

As the students filed out of the room, several waved goodbyes to Aizawa. He smiled and waved back, eyes wandering to the small boy standing shyly next to him. “Hey Midoriya, do you need something? You should be heading home.”

“I am going home! But I made you something to celebrate how much fun we are having! I still like Mr. Toshinori more, but you’re really fun!” The boy shoved a piece of paper into Aizawa’s hands. “Ok my mom is waiting, bye Mr. Aizawa! See you next week!” Before Aizawa could respond, the boy ran out of the room. He looked at the paper. On it was a crudely drawn picture of him and the class on one of their hikes. He chuckled lightly, pinning the picture to the wall. 

He was pulled away from his thoughts by the sudden vibrations of his phone. Without checking, he answered, “Aizawa speaking.”

“Um, hey! It’s been a while.”

“…Yagi?”

“Yeah! Hizashi told me you were taking over for me, and I, uh, wanted to say thanks!”

“I should be thanking you,” Aizawa commented, amusement crossing his face upon hearing the familiar voice again, “I needed a job and you had some broken bones.” They both chuckled awkwardly.

After a moment of thick silence, Aizawa sighed, “Its good time hear from you, Yagi. I’m sorry it’s been so long.”

Yagi chuckled, “We should catch up soon. You know, when I can walk again that is.” he paused, “So I, uh actually called to... uh, How are the kids?”

Aizawa laughed at how the blonde could barely hide his intentions. “They’re doing fine, no need to worry.”

“Are you handling them alright? I know they can be a handful.”

Aizawa looked fondly at the drawing Midoriya had handed him, “It’s an adjustment, but I think we’ll be able to get through the year.

[mistihayesfix]

Update: Oct 7

America is a shithole country.

Although I had a career in a semi-profitable industry, a couple of years ago I lost my job and began a “forced sabbatical.” My savings are long gone, so to make ends meet I am a rideshare driver. I enjoy it much more than I thought I would. And I’ve been able to earn enough to be OK.

Then COVID-19 happened. 

And even though American leadership had the benefit of time and could have learned from other countries’ mistakes and wins, they didn’t. And now nearly a quarter-million Americans are dead. Many others are recovering, but what long-term effects will they have? 

When this all started my amazing roommate said he’d take care of me as best he could. And I was able to get unemployment. I used that to get out of the hole, being out of work got me in. So things were OK for a bit. Now they’re not. My roommate is still amazing but he has some things happening, so I’m back on the road and we’re taking care of each other.

But this isn’t about me.

Tonight, I had to watch while a man packed his and his wife’s belongings into my tiny Honda Civic along with their giant yellow Lab. We drove to the other side of town where something or someone was supposed to be waiting for them. It/They weren’t there. He has a record, so the one shelter I could think of won’t take them and with COVID there are major precautions in place now to screen for health.

I asked if there was anywhere else I could take them. Her parents said they couldn’t come to their house. Did I mention the woman was pregnant and having a panic attack? He unloaded their belongings in a corner of a parking lot. And I furiously Googled options to help them, all the while looking out for my own safety because you never can be too sure.

I couldn’t find anything.

I felt so helpless, I couldn’t do anything more for them. I heard the woman sobbing as I pulled a little further away to wipe down my car with citrus-scented disinfectant cloths. He was on the phone asking the person on the other end, “What am I supposed to do, man?”

All I could do was say a prayer while I cleaned my car and I wanted to cry but I didn’t have time because the app pinged for my next fare. I believe in action, in helping not just talking. But tonight, all I could do was listen to their pain and empathize with them. 

See, I’m not much different. I lost my apartment last year. Because of the kindness of others being active, I’ve had a place to live. My roommate and I are having a tough time right now, but we were struggling to make rent just a few days ago. I’ve seen and read news reports about the evictions, which have started up again recently. So many people are suddenly homeless in the midst of a global pandemic.

And one of the richest countries in the world refuses to help its average citizens but finds a way for the uber elite to add $845 billion to their wealth during the first six months of this health crisis. There are hungry children tonight in this country while zealots insist abortion is the worst thing this country can do. Our elderly die alone and have to be found later because the care is so subpar.

A country so invested in the military might treats its returning veterans like second-class citizens. Sadly, 11 percent of the homeless population in the United States are veterans. While that number is down, it is still a shameful situation.

I share this because it haunts me. It hurts that I couldn’t do anything. We have to change, we have to take care of one another. I don’t know the details of how, I just know we must.

America is definitely better than some places in the world but it’s hardly the best, as it teaches us to say. America has a long, long way to go and she may stunt her own growth from ever getting there.

America remains a shithole country.

[itsakatething]

First things first: seriously considering a perm. I haven’t been this happy with a hairstyle in about a year.

Secondly: I put more effort into editing this photo than I have put into taking care of myself these last few months. I decided to leave my job at Christmas after 2 & a bit years of fun, hoping that 2020 would be a new year of exciting changes.

Like, a new career (not as yet). Building a house (not in the near future). Going out on a date or two and building all kinds of new relationships (tinder is scary but like... being brave?). Travelling more.

Instead there was a thing with a bat and an unemployment crisis and suddenly millions in the same boat that kind of feels at times like it’s sinking. I tried on clothes on Wednesday in Cotton On and just stood there and cried at what I saw in the mirror. Now I know that changing rooms are the WORST place ever but holy shit did I feel like crap. (Don’t worry, I pulled myself together and still found something that I fell in love with and brought me joy and then I got out of there super quick).

I know I’m not alone on this metaphorical boat. My emotions and thoughts are all over the place and without having a routine to really stick to, I feel lost. Not just job wise, but with purpose: as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend/baby sitter/someone who normally feels quite proud of who she is and can hold her head high and be that pillar of support for those around her.

There isn’t too much of a purpose to this caption. Except to maybe get some feelings off my chest (because that’s what social media is for, right?), and send a virtual hug to anyone who might be able to relate. Please send a hug back if you do: they’re my love language. It hurts to not be able to smother my friends with the love we all deserve right now.

xx

[hinaichi]

I need to get this off my chest or I’m going to go lose it. Sorry for ridiculously long post undercut. 

OKAY so I’ve been a program teacher and sub teacher for almost 5 years now. I’ve always worked with elementary aged kids and honestly I love my job! There are days where I’m like “wow i don’t want any kids” to “I love these little chickens!” (inside joke between me and the former 5th graders who loved my ghost stories but were terrified of them! lol) It’s always a test of patience and I feel like it’s helped me develop as a person. I’ve created some deep bonds with a few of them. Many who come up to me seeking advice or help with their anime art!  Let me cut to the chase before this becomes an autobiography. I teach in the US and as the world knows we aren’t doing too good. Our politics are the biggest jokes of the century and the country is MAD. We want justice, equality, health reassurance and much more that seem very reasonable to me! We are in the process of change and we are living this massive historic moments that generations from now will talk about.  We are living in a pandemic, an outbreak of a global disease. The world was closed for months! The last few months were honestly hell on Earth. Everyday was a threat to not only our health but our jobs! Programs aren’t deemed as essential so we had to work 10x harder to PROVE that these kids needed us. Every meeting was bitter and stressful. I began to think damn I’m better off dead then living through this. Everyday felt terrible. To top it off we were also told we might not qualify for unemployment, our rent wasn’t going to be frozen, and going outside was life or death. I wish i was making this up lol but I’m not! I thought we were going to be homeless or go hungry! I saved up so much because I was scared of the unknown. It came down to a point where our program founders chilled down and stop putting so much pressure on us. I couldn’t sleep well for days. I cried almost every day. I hated myself and my worth as a person. I felt like I was not good enough and could never be good enough. The emotional damage this shit did is irreparable but not unmanageable. After meeting with some psychologists I learned to manage the stress, anxiety, and those depressive days. I felt calm. Like floating in the ocean calm. I got over the fear of drowning but I wasn’t out of danger, so to say.  Then our contracts end and we are told summer camps are cancelled and the after school for the next school year is in the air. As in we don’t know if we’ll have a job anytime soon! As you can imagine I was stressed once again but not AS stressed because I have some savings. I can’t live off of it but I can manage just in case unemployment denies me. So recently I’ve applied for unemployment and YAY I got approved. One less thing to worry about. I took this opportunity as a positive thing. I can finally apply for grad school! I have time to study for the exams, prepare my documents, and so forth.  At first I was bummed out about not seeing my students but now I’m accepting it! I haven’t had a real vacation in over 15 years. I look like I aged 5 years in a manner of a few months. I needed this to heal and recover.  Fast forward, I got a message saying we are going to work again but we don’t know exactly when. I was asked my opinion on the matter. I’ll be honest folks I live in a neighborhood where people PARTY HARD till 4 or 7am. People are like what’s social distancing I don’t know her?? No masks are on and no gloves. The state is opening up so everyone is like COVID-19 IS GOVERNMENT LIES FUCK YOU AND YOUR SAFETY.  Let me tell you...I know so many people who literally just lost a loved one to covid-19. My great uncle from my father’s side, my aunt’s father, one of my friends father have died due to the virus. I have a group of relatives stuck in quarantine because they got sick. I have a medical condition that could make my road to recovery, if I do get covid, very challenging. I live with relatives that have fragile health conditions.  With all of these factors my mind went into full blown ANXIETY mood. I swear it felt like I was being told to go die. SUMMER IN NEW YORK IN THE HOOD IS THE WORST TIME OF YEAR. PEOPLE ARE OUTSIDE 24/7 WITHOUT PROTECTION. I LITERALLY KNOW A FEW PEOPLE WHO TESTED POSITIVE FOR COVID-19 CHILLING IN FRONT OF THE BUILDING WITH NO PROTECTIVE GEAR. How the hell am I supposed to feel confident working in the summer??? WHEN WE MIGHT NOT EVEN HAVE A BUILDING TO BE IN??? WE were told we might be taking kids to the park where parents will come to pick them up there. What kind of bull is this??? After my supervisor made a heartwarming speech about how grateful she is to have this team. How the flying flippin heck am I supposed to tell her how I really feel? I have a serious problem with telling people NO. I get intensely guilt driven when I tell people no especially after saying something so nice about us. I know her intentions weren’t to guilt us into agreeing but I FEEL IT. I feel like i’m risking my health for something that’s so half ASSED. I hate it. I hate the terrified look I got from my mother when I told her the news. Because I’m not only risking my health but my own parents and the children of the program. I’m so upset that we were told this could affect the future of the program and our employment if we deny the job.  Nothing is set in stone until the founders give their final speech.  So for now I’m still unemployed until we get the news... I’m so frustrated and stressed. I literally hate myself so much for feeling this way when everyone else on the team looked so happy to do it. 

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Graphics by Anna Wiederkehr

Congress has less than a month to hammer out a deal on the next round of stimulus before expanded unemployment benefits expire. State and local governments are starting to feel the pinch of budget shortfalls. And while the U.S. got a piece of (relatively) good news in last week’s jobs report, which featured an unemployment rate 2.2 percentage points lower in June than it had been in May, the economy has been thrown back into chaos in the meantime, with a number of states pulling back on their reopenings amid spiking COVID-19 infections and hospitalizations.

Our newest survey of economists highlights just how consequential governmental decisions over the next month may be: On average, these economists think that a refusal by Congress to extend unemployment benefits or bail out state and local governments is just as likely to hurt the economy as local economies staying open in spite of COVID-19 spikes — or even closing because of the virus.

In partnership with the Initiative on Global Markets at the University of Chicago Booth School of Business, FiveThirtyEight asked 31 quantitative macroeconomic economists what they thought about a variety of subjects around the coronavirus recession and recovery efforts. The most recent survey was conducted from July 2 through 6, which means the June jobs report was fresh on respondents’ minds — but so was the state of the pandemic, along with challenges ahead for lawmakers.

“There’s a distinct risk that between now and November, Congress’s ability to continue fiscal support will be very limited by election-year politics,” said Jonathan Wright, an economics professor at Johns Hopkins University who has been consulting with us on the design of the survey. “That could be more of a drag on the economy than the local and state shutdowns just because the effect would be so huge.”

With a congressional showdown looming, we asked the experts to estimate the probability that several policy decisions would have the biggest negative impact on U.S. gross domestic product in the fourth quarter of 2020. Among the five options we presented, the single most important to the economists was a decision by state and local governments to reclose their economies because of COVID-19 outbreaks. But a decision by Congress not to provide funding to state and local governments was close behind. And the weight given to choices made by the federal government — bailing out local governments, extending unemployment insurance and providing ongoing aid for small businesses — added up to be even more important when taken as a whole:

What are the biggest economic risk factors by year’s end?

Average probabilities that each scenario would have the largest negative impact on U.S. GDP in the fourth quarter, according to economists

Local or state response options Avg. Probability Decision to reverse local economic openings due to COVID-19 spikes 26% Decision to keep local economies open despite COVID-19 spikes 17 Total 43 Federal response options Not providing funding for state and local governments* 23% Ending/reducing expansion of unemployment benefits 20 Ending/cutting back on aid to small businesses 14 Total 57

* Funding to address budget shortfalls associated with COVID-19.

The survey of 31 economists was conducted July 2-6.

Source: FIVETHIRTYEIGHT/IGM COVID-19 ECONOMIC SURVEY

“[State and local governments] are facing severe budget crises and will be laying off workers to balance their budgets,” said Julie Smith, a professor of economics at Lafayette College. That, she said, could lead to longer periods of high unemployment and financial pain for many households. Meanwhile, she added, cutting back or ending the federal unemployment extension would cause many people’s incomes to decline dramatically, leaving them with much less money to spend — which could make a big dent in GDP.

Perhaps for this reason, there’s a lot of uncertainty in the economists’ fourth-quarter real GDP predictions. When we last asked the panel for its forecast, it thought that GDP would be growing by 4.1 percent at the end of the year, a big improvement from the -28.2 percent quarter-over-quarter annualized growth it foresaw for the second quarter of 2020. This time around, the panel is calling for less negative growth (-25.5 percent) in the second quarter and a very similar fourth-quarter growth rate to last time (3.8 percent). But the range around that end-of-year forecast has gotten a lot wider — a sign of just how much things could go wrong. The gap between our consensus forecast’s 10th and 90th percentile predictions for fourth-quarter GDP growth was 10.9 percentage points in the last survey; now that gap is 12.8 percentage points, with almost all of the extra uncertainty coming in the form of downside risk. (The panel’s consensus 10th percentile GDP growth forecast has dropped from -2.0 percent to -3.5 percent.)

The economists weren’t especially optimistic about the trajectory of the unemployment rate over the course of 2020, either. The consensus prediction was that the unemployment rate in December would be 10.1 percent, which is only 1 percentage point lower than the rate in June — and is still comparable to the unemployment rate at the height of the Great Recession. Stephen Cecchetti, a professor of international finance at the Brandeis International Business School, pointed out that workers are increasingly likely to be losing their jobs permanently, rather than temporarily, which will make it harder for them to get back into the labor force. And he added that it will take time for the economy to adjust to a new reality where working from home is the norm, which could also keep the unemployment rate from falling quickly. Cecchetti was also among the economists who thought that in a worst-case scenario, the unemployment rate could skyrocket again by the end of the year.

“There are a lot of people who haven’t been exposed to the virus,” he said. “It’s not hard to imagine new outbreaks in places like New Jersey or Massachusetts that force us to shut down all over again.”

About half of the economists in the survey also thought the country’s top earners would end the year with an even greater share of the nation’s personal income. In order to get a sense of how much the panel thought the COVID-19 recession would increase income inequality, we asked about a new metric created by the Bureau of Economic Analysis, which found that in 2016, households in the top 10 percent of incomes (adjusted for household size) accounted for 37.6 percent of the country’s personal income. Fifty percent of the respondents thought this number would be significantly higher by the end of 2020 as a result of the COVID-19 pandemic, while 47 percent thought it would be about the same. Only one respondent thought it would be lower.

“My best guess is that this pandemic is going to worsen income inequalities,” said Sarah Zubairy, a professor of economics at Texas A&M University. She hypothesized that this was because job loss has been concentrated among lower-wage workers who can’t do their jobs remotely, and who may find themselves ricocheting in and out of the labor force if states have to abruptly pull back their reopening plans.

And in another sign that the U.S. has been knocked off course by the virus — and the subsequent leadership response — our survey panel overwhelmingly believes (with 90 percent agreement) that China will beat both America and the European Union on the road back to pre-crisis real GDP levels. In retrospect, according to Wright, this was kind of a “no-brainer” because China’s economic growth so far has been quite swift, and it has tools to enact sweeping fiscal stimulus that aren’t available to less centrally controlled economies like the U.S. or the E.U. But some of this might also be based on the Chinese government’s reputation for — how should we put this? — releasing overly favorable public data. “When all is said and done, if they don’t like the actual data they can fudge the numbers,” Wright said. “Put those three things together, and there’s almost no way they can’t be the first back.”

Wright also pointed to another ominous result in the survey: 19 percent of respondents thought that the 10-year average real U.S. GDP growth rate would be reduced by 1 to 2 percent per year. To be sure, the vast majority (77 percent) of economists thought the 10-year average growth rate would be reduced by less, although only one person thought it would go up. But the responses were still alarming, Wright said, because they indicated a serious degree of pessimism about the speed with which the economy will not just return to where it was at the end of 2019, but also catch up with where it would have been if the COVID-19 pandemic hadn’t happened.

However, Allan Timmermann, professor of finance and economics at the University of California, San Diego — who has also been consulting with us on the survey — was encouraged that the majority of respondents didn’t expect more long-term damage to growth. “This is still a large impact in terms of its cumulative effect on the economy,” he wrote in an email. “But it does suggest that most respondents think the economy will bounce back in due course — as opposed to leading us to a ‘lost decade’ scenario (as we have seen in Japan) with growth slowing down by an even larger amount.”

Overall, though, the latest survey responses paint a picture of America’s still-precarious road back to economic health. So much depends on the course of COVID-19 itself and how much the virus forces local economies to shut down again to slow its spread. But a lot is also riding on important policy decisions around the virus, which are still being debated. “I think economists have been surprised so far by the pace of the rebound,” Wright said. “But that hasn’t made them less worried about the weeks or months ahead.”

[yvaquietdays]

Isolation Motivation

We’re three weeks into official lockdown, so I’m not going to patronise and assume nobody has seen these kind of posts on Instagram:

Well, you lack the basic empathic skills to make you a canny lad, Farrah.

I don’t know anyone who can speak fluent mandarin after a month in quarantine. I also don’t know anyone who can learn how to install a flush skirting board in their bathroom after three weeks of bashing their heads against the wall from trying to teach their own kids, either. When was the last time anyone started a business in only six weeks, whilst also realising their new boyfriend, who they’ve subsequently been trapped with, is in fact the most sinfully boring person who ever had the audacity to be born (isolation increases the use of hyperbole). Never mind this all happening in the midst of one of the worst economic health crises’ in recent history?! 

Obviously, Farrah has started his particular side hustle as a mandarin-speaking joiner already. Good luck to him. All the best. Take care.

The fact is, the best of us are either on the front line, risking their lives to save others, or risking their lives getting us about on public transport, or teaching their kids geometry or some-shit, whilst also bouncing a baby in the palm of their hand and taking the dog for a walk six times a day. If you have time to focus on those goals, like learning a new language, or starting that book you promised yourself you’d write, or organising your photo albums, or finally learning the meaning of the off-side rule, then fill your boots. What does Farrah think we’re all doing? Sitting around with our thumbs up our arses, staring at the ceiling? It’s really the arrogance of those posts that really wind me up, as if they’re the font of all knowledge and inspiration and they’ve deigned to let us see what the good life looks like. Rude.

If you finally have the time to breathe, go for walks, cook, and just survive through this thing, then that is okay too. Christ, we all work hard enough, don’t we deserve to take this time off from the demands of such a fast paced modern world? It takes zero prisoners. We might not get another opportunity to put our feet up and not feel guilty about it, for the rest of our lives. The last time I felt like this, it was the summer holidays and I was fourteen. Most adults don’t see this kind of respite until they’re pensioners.

We’re all different. Some of us thrive on keeping ourselves busy, giving ourselves jobs and lining up support systems for those in need, or volunteering, or just getting that peeling garden set sanded and painted again, or cleaning out the fridge of old jars of spam and failed sourdough starters from three months ago. But some of us, who find the world and the competitive road we’re all herded on each and every day, overwhelming, and so it’s a welcome and quiet reprieve. 

It’s time to slow down and breathe, and I repeat, not feel guilty about it.

Breathe. Eat. Sleep. Stretch. Repeat.

Not to mention, all the while this is going on in our brain-boxes, hundreds of people are dying every day in the UK. It’s rising every day. This is a time unseen for most of us. The global anxiety level is high. I have to do what I can to establish a routine, make the most of this time I have, but check in with those numbers every day to remember, this isn’t a state paid holiday. I have personally always maintained that life is a balance, anyone reading my blog would agree. This time that has either been gifted or forced upon it (a bit of both, I’d concede), is no different. 

It’s important to remember that the people who are trying to influence us aren’t helping us; they’re feeling better about themselves. Instagram, especially. The platform exists so we can reach out and find validation, some praise for being humans. That’s the basic psychology behind it. It’s not even the more grandiose aspects of the platform that personally irritate me. It’s the mundane. “I colour- coded and ordered my bookshelf!” Thank you for that picture. Well done. It’s a bookshelf. I’m happy that it’s colour coded, I really am, it is satisfying to see, but I don’t need to know about it. What you did was sit for an hour or so and colour code your books. That shit isn’t stuff we see in Oscar winning movies. Seeing it on Twitter or Instagram, though, makes me feel guilty that my own bookshelf is not colour coded. Even though I couldn’t give a tiny mouses mitten whether it is or not. I’m suddenly hyper aware that my bookshelf is disordered, and a wave of displaced anxiety arises. Should I order my bookshelf? Am I wasting time? Should my bookcase be disordered? Yes. It’s the way I like it.  This is coming from a person who takes great pride and personal relief from tidying. I love tidying. I love ordering stuff, and I can’t relax after work until everything is in its place. But do you see me posting about it on instagram? No. Why? Because while I believe in those small, beautiful meditations, whether that’s colour-coding a bookshelf, making a coffee in the morning, writing in a journal; it’s personal. As soon as we start posting about those moments, we’re diluting the experience and it no longer has any resonance, because you’re doing it for someone else instead of yourself. Yes, we might get some gratification from it, but why does someone need to see that I cooked a beautiful meal for me to know, that, well... I cooked a beautiful meal? I have to be so careful to remember that someone else’s life and someone else’s grievances are not my own. This is the trouble with social media, in general. It’s a hive mind. Once you’re logged in, other people’s experiences becomes yours, thrust upon you, whether you wanted it or not. So you did one small workout this morning, feeling good, right? But that other slim, tanned, beautiful, make-upped person did two. Plus a run. With intervals. And a fruit smoothie afterwards. Christ, is anything we do good enough? The influencers who are posting from home about how to stay fit and keep the pounds off, they’re only wanting to feel better about themselves. It has nothing to do with you. If someone is lauding that shit all over you, and you’re quite happy wondering what kind of a potato you are, then unfollow, fren.

At the end of the day, if we come out of this a little bit fitter, or a few pounds heavier, it doth not matter a fuck. What’s important is that we come out of this thing alive.

While we can roll our eyes at these accounts, it’s also vital to know that a lot of people with the time to do all this stuff can probably afford to. Once you see it, it’s very hard not to notice how out of touch they can be. Personally, I have a safety net. I’m being looked after by my employers, I have some savings, my outgoings are small. So I’m trying to learn french. But others, aren’t so lucky. They’re either still working in a Co-op, or working from home, or have lost their jobs due to bad bosses (who will be named and shamed after this, I’m sure), and are too busy applying for universal credit to spend their spare minutes worrying whether they’ve learned a new skill or not.  This is where I’m coming to my next point. If someone is capitalising on this, whether it’s selling weight loss shakes, reusable gloves or masks for a high profit, they’re not influencers or half way decent people. It’s one thing to get by, creating work where we can get it (I set up a Patreon), and we’re quite happy to take what comes from people who can afford it. But it’s quite another to profit from a disaster like this. I might be okay for a couple of months. But if this stretches on until 2021, I’m not sure where I’m going to be.  So forgive me for not having time for holier-than-thou posts about how we ought to be spending this time isolating. I’m too busy regretting the time I’m missing with my friends, my family, sad that I can’t celebrate getting engaged (I got engaged) with my loved ones, sad for my friends who’ve had to cancel their own weddings, sad for friends who are losing work and money, whose businesses might crash. Lives. The economy is crashing, France is in recession, and here I’ve got Billy Big Balls telling me I’m not disciplined enough to achieve my goals. 

There’s a lot going on right now. The most important thing, human contact, and the people we love, that’s what we need the most. Not a new bloody skill.

So breathe. Eat. Sleep. Stretch. Repeat. 

If that’s all you can do, do it. Just staying home, we’re saving lives. We might not know it. But we are.

Can you imagine coming out the other end of this, the world opening again, only to find our favourite pubs and coffee shops closing due to a financial crash, unemployment sky rocketing, not to mention the lines of funerals of people who have died, and Great Farrah of the Dick Swinging comes out of his bubble, speaking mandarin and profiting from his new business, telling us all that we wasted our time?

Jesus. Talk about tone-deaf.

Breathe. Eat. Sleep. Stretch. Repeat.