#it took covid and me not going to classes for a year

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOURE RICH?????????

In Philippine standards? very much. Internationally though I would be considered upper middle class.

Like my parents have enough money to live comfortably for several generations rich but we live pretty humbly. Mostly cause of religious purposes a lot of their earnings go to the less privileged family members of ours for education.

I try not to dig into their pockets too much though, hence why i wanted a scholarship in my coleg and am trying to gun for a full ride scholarship in ASMPH if not 75%

[rashfordian]

daily shuffle ting 📸

[lo-sulci]

i kinda can't believe i actually did it

[theculturedmarxist]

In photos of 2023’s World Economic Forum- or Davos as it is commonly called, after the Swiss resort town where it annually occurs- you might not notice the HEPA filters. They’re in the background, unobtrusive and unremarked upon, quietly cleansing the air of viruses and bacteria. You wouldn’t know- not unless you asked- that every attendee was PCR tested before entering the forum, or that in the case of a positive test, access was automatically, electronically, revoked. And if you happened to get a glimpse of the strange blue lights overhead, you could reasonably assume that their glow was simply a modern aesthetic choice, not the calming buzz of cutting edge Far UVC technology- demonstrated to kill microbes in the air.

It’s hard to square this information with the public narrative about COVID, isn’t it? President Biden has called the pandemic “over”. The New York Times recently claimed that “the risk of Covid is similar to that of the flu” in an article about “hold outs” that are annoyingly refusing to accept continual reinfection as their “new normal”. Yet, this week the richest people in the world are taking common sense, easy- but strict- precautions to ensure they don’t catch Covid-19 at Davos.

These common sense, easy precautions include high-quality ventiliation, use of Far UVC-lighting technology, and PCR testing. You’ll also see some masks at Davos, but generally, the testing + air filtration protocol seems to be effective at preventing the kind of super-spreader events most of us are now accustomed to attending.

It seems unlikely to me that a New York Times reporter will follow the super-rich around like David Attenborough on safari, the way one of their employees did when they profiled middle-class maskers last month. I doubt they will write “family members and friends can get a little exasperated by the hyper-concern” about the assembled Prime Ministers, Presidents and CEOs in Switzerland. After all, these are important people. The kind of people who merit high-quality ventilation. The kind of people who deserve accurate tests.

Why is the media so hellbent on portraying simple, scientifically proven measures like high-quality ventilation as ridiculous and unnecessary as hundreds of people continue to die daily here in the US?

Why is the public accepting a “new normal” where we are expected to get infected over and over and over again, at work events with zero precautions, on airplanes with no masks, and at social dinners trying to approximate our 2019 normal?

We deserve better. We deserve to be #DavosSafe as the hashtag going around on twitter puts it. Your children deserve to be treated with the care that world leaders are treating each other. Your family deserves to be protected from the disease which is still- unlike the flu- the third leading cause of death in the US. We don’t deserve to be shoved back into poorly ventilated workplaces while our politicians and press assure us that only crazy people would demand to breathe clean air.

Clean water and clean food are rights we fought for; we have regulatory bodies that ensure we aren’t exposed to pathogens via our water supply nor our food. In 1854, John Snow famously conducted his Broad Street Pump study in London and demonstrated that cholera was water-bourne; however, it took decades for our public policy to catch up with our scientific knowledge.

A public health case study published by the NBCI describes the years that followed:

The first use of chlorine as a disinfectant for water facilities was in 1897 in England. The first use of this method for municipal water facilities in the United States was in Jersey City, New Jersey, and Chicago, Illinois, in 1915. Other cities followed and the use of chlorination as standard treatment for water disinfection rapidly grew. During the 20th century, death rates from waterborne diseases decreased significantly, and although other additional factors contributed to the general improvements in health (such as sanitation, improved quality of life, and nutrition), the improvement of water quality was, without doubt, a major reason.

Forty-three years passed from the initial demonstration that pathogens were being spread via water, and public action and regulation to halt disease.

Can you imagine, in the 1890s, being somebody who argued against cleaning the water?

Can you imagine, in those years of plentiful cholera, calling the people who demanded shit-free water “hold outs”?

One thing COVID realists are accused of is being “doomsayers” and “fearmongers,” so let me share a dose of optimism about the future with you. When we choose- whenever we choose- to get COVID under control, there’s an exciting new world awaiting us. One, not only without constant COVID reinfection, but where our kids can grow up free of colds, flus, RSV, and many other common bugs. And no, contrary to what you may have heard, staying healthy (shockingly enough) is not bad for children!

Once we choose to institute ventilation standards and introduce new technologies like Far UVC lighting- and embrace masking as an easy, kind, and useful tool to control outbreaks- we can bring every nasty airborne pathogen under control the way we did cholera. We didn’t have the science before; now we do. (I mean that quite literally; I can’t recommend enough the linked Wired article cataloguing the long journey to establishing that Covid is, indeed, airborne).

We face a stark choice; down one road, the one with zero infrastructure upgrades, no air quality regulations, and Covid safety only for those who can afford it, you and your family will get Covid this year. You will get Covid next year. You will continue to get Covid over and over and over again, as the health problems - like cardiac damage, viral persistance, and immune system dysfunction- continue to build up. (The billionaires, of course, will not).

Down the other road, we quite simply treat ourselves the way Davos would. We engage with what the science is telling us and we build a safer, better world for our kids. We embrace the lessons this pandemic is teaching us, and let go of things we now know are harming people. We stop clinging desperately to the idea that 2019 will come back if we just get the virus one more time, and we come together to achieve what we’ve been told is impossible: elimination.

The economic elite thrive on our divisiveness and blame casting. They don’t mind that we’re calling each other names, engaging in racial stereotyping, or leaving disabled people to die, so long as we keep their machine running. But we can choose to stop throwing blame at each other, and direct it where it belongs: at the powerful people who’ve left us to suffer, at the politicians who are whipping people into a frenzy over masks instead of over our millions of dead, at the talking heads on TV that work so hard to convince us: you want to get sick. It’s better than being a *weirdo* or a *hold out*.

We needn’t wait 43 years to redirect our energies. France and Belgium have already introduced new air quality standards, and DIY projects to build Corsi-Rosenthal boxes for schools and healthcare settings have popped up around the country. We have the science, we have the technology. All we need now is the political will and the solidarity to truly end the pandemic- the kind of solidarity the super rich always show with one another.

The billionaires at Davos don’t accept continual Covid reinfection. They demand better. It’s time we demand better too.

[snifferish]

Never in my life did I think that re-tweeting resources for SA, and supporting victims would be considered problematic or performative.

I should not have to bare this, but I'm going to tell just one of my stories, because I need you to understand where I'm coming from. TW // Sexual Harassment

--

When I was 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. I wanted to avoid using the pain medication they prescribed. I struggle a lot with sensory issues, medications and substances made it worse.

However, my surgery was for impacted teeth, and only two days in one of my stitches fell out. I was in so much pain, and couldn't eat solids w/ out pain for up to three weeks.

So, a week into my recovery, one of my friends invites me to their house. They were having our friend group over, it was just a little bonfire get together kinda thing. I took my pain meds a few hours prior, and only half a dose, but I was out of it to some degree, and somehow still in pain.

I was sitting on a lawn chair outside, when one of my close friends came over and asked to sit on my lap. Honestly, I said yes at first, because this was my childhood friend, someone I trusted, and I thought our relationship was incredibly platonic. Then he started to shift/grind about in my lap, and I started to feel things of theirs I did not want to. They made a noise that deeply unsettled me, and I told him to get off, they didn't. It was only when I told them that he accidently triggered the emergency call shortcut on my phone (it was in the pocket of the lawn chair, yes they were moving that much and I was moving trying to push him off) that he finally got up.

I was bewildered, and a bit confused, and also embarrassed that my phone nearly called 911. I claimed I wasn't feeling well, and went home early.

That was the first time someone touched me in a remotely sexual way, but I didn't dare to label it until I talked to my therapist. It made me dwell on a lot of experiences with this person as well. How obsessed they were with being taller than me, how often they'd grab me and force me to see if they were stronger than me. At the time, I was in a friend group of predominately non-men, and they were all friends with this person.

However, when I told them about this, when I expressed the discomfort it brought me. I was brushed off. "He's just like that!" oh "He probably didn't mean it" etc.

I didn't feel comfortable in the same room as this person. My friends would continue to invite them to hang outs. One of my other friends told everyone about what happened without my permission. I started having breakdowns in my classes with him. I had panic attacks all the time. I felt as if I had to continue this façade of being nice to him, or else I would lose my friends of years and years.

I was happy when covid started, because for the first time I had breathing room, but by then so much of my trust was dismantled.

Due to my friends association with this person, and the fact that not being their friend excluded me. I eventually got over it, and told myself I'd grown past it.

Three months ago, this same person admitted to me they hold extreme grudges against me, that they projected their "mommy issues" on to me, and quite literally said the words, "Yeah yeah, you're a woman who's outspoken and challenged me and that bothers me yeah yeah." in regards to that. They said it with sarcasm, like it was something they knew, and their mother was reminding them for the 12th time.

--

I bring this all up, not to make you feel guilty, but to discuss the harm of not supporting victims, not listening to them. It puts them in a position of isolation, and in a position to potentially be hurt again.

So yeah, I'm gonna be a little upset when people say I'm being "performative" about supporting victims of sexual harassment and SA. I'm not doing this because it benefits me, in fact it's caused a lot of backlash, horrible dms, and very triggering memories.

I'm doing it because I was once not heard, and i've sat with Caiti behind the scenes for months watching her lose passion for something she loved (content creation).

I didn't do this because I'm secretly sniveling behind the scenes tapping my fingers praying on peoples downfall. I'm not a Disney villain dude lmfao.

Honestly, this narrative that is being pushed, that people are doing it "because it benefits them" is quite ironic, considering most of the people talked about within the last 72 hours were under Wilbur's weird ass apology doing just that.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate how people are okay with this narrative, the misogynist undertones of it. I've seen people admit that they didn't like me or my friends the entire time, while simultaneously "calling us out" about this, so I ask you,

Are you calling us? Because it benefits your motives? Your feelings?

[sanzaibian]

I should have known better.

You know, those highschool cliques ? The jocks, the nerds, the goths and all... Well, even though nowadays they might not be as clear-cut as they once were, I can assure you that they still existed.

You see, I'm a nerd. But when I say nerd, I mean nerd. Like the whole socially awkward, scrawny and ugly kind of nerd. Also the nasally always-right nerd with top notch marks that reminds the teacher he made a mistake kind of nerd. And also the loves DnD, fantasy and niche interests kind of nerd... well, you get what I mean.

Me being such a caricature meant that I was endlessly teased at school, and was senselessly bullied by the jocks. You know, these hot guys with always a girl in their pants, with big muscles and an obsession with looking good.

I hated it, I hated them, and suffered silently through highschool, until I finally saw the other side when I finally went to university. Although my first years were a bit messed up by Covid, when I was in the building actually studying applied chemistry, I finally wasn't bothered. No one was there to tease me, to bully me or anything else. I could finally live in the class without being bothered !

But, in my third year, Ethan, a guy looking like one of those jocks of old switched courses and came in my class.

I was shocked ! These guys are only good for being hot, playing sports, and entering hot girls' pants ! Not for doing some actual intelligent things like applied chemistry !

But he was even more annoying, that Ethan guy. Because he did not only take the courses I took. No, in fact, he was getting better grades than me. He's so good with polymers that he is the one who asks all the questions and corrects the teacher, not me !

So I tried to avoid him as much as I could. Even when he tried to befriend me, I just scoffed at him, sometimes even mumbling that he should go back to the football stadium. I also talked to the few acquaintances that I had made through awkward bumbling at how I felt he was dumb, and perhaps was only extorting some poor nerds for information to regurgitate in class.

And, one day, at lunch, I just had enough. Ethan and the polymer teacher had an intense debate just before the end of the class, a debate that I couldn't follow. My ego was struck, to the point that I just poured my heart out to the poor people sitting with me. I was seeing red, that day, and nothing could have stopped me... not even the fact that Ethan was there a few tables next to me.

I've since then heard that Ethan was very upset after my tirade, as he is always thought to be dumb due to his interest in being in shape and stylish, while at the same time, I was coming back home all happy to finally have given people a piece of my mind.

However, when I woke back up, I felt weird. I felt heavier, less agile and especially more groggy. As if I just couldn’t quite get up. There was also something cold on my chest that I couldn’t quite identify…

So I did the only logical thing and went to the bathroom to wash my face and properly wake up. But when I saw the mirror, I think what I saw woke me up immediately.

The man behind the mirror was not me. It was a jock – a hot one at that – with big muscles, trendy hair, chiseled face and multiple jewelry. Yet, there were still a few things that signaled me I was looking at myself : the jet black hair, the tan skin, the brown eyes and especially those small pimples on my right cheek and on my right… I guess I can call it pec, now.

I stayed in front of the mirror for quite a while, looking at each corner of my reflection. I couldn’t believe it, and after a long while, decided to just eat breakfast and forget everything that happened. It just isn’t possible.

But when I was going to my kitchen I couldn’t stop being reminded of how I changed. From my heavy step to the sound of my new necklace, and from the pecs I saw in the corner of my eyes to the weird feeling I still felt in my head. When finally reaching it, I was surprised when I didn’t go for my usual biscuits but rather for an apple… I must eat healthily, after all !

After finishing eating breakfast, I went to my closet, and rather than going for the button-up I usually wore, I went for a simple white t-shirt, and went for a jacket that I didn’t feel like closing, in addition to my usual jeans – all suspiciously fitting me well.

And with that, I went to university, set on finding who did that to me.

When I arrived, the weird feeling in my head hadn’t lifted, though I was dead set in finding who was responsible. So dead set that I didn’t notice people turning their head at my arrival. Nor my backpack shifting to only being carried by one shoulder.

After a while, I saw my class, and approached them with heavy gait, swinging my torso with every step like a typical jock. However, curses befell upon me when I opened my mouth and greeted my classmate.

“Yo, bro ! Doin’ good ? I just wanted to ask, bro, anything weird happened since yesterday ?”

I was shocked at how I said that, so much that I covered my mouth with my hand. My classmate was similarly shocked, and only shook her head negatively before excusing herself. Why did she flee like that ?

I clicked my tongue before looking at myself. How had this happened ? Why am I doing weird things ? Why am I talking weirdly ? I can think the sophisticated thoughts, yet when I voice them, they are filtered through bro-speech !

As I was melting down, none other than Ethan came in, smiling. Of course it was him, I shouldn’t have given the benefit of the doubt to him ! I have been only graceful and nice to him, and this is how he repays me ? By turning me into this… hot monstrosity ?

As the anger was rising, Ethan lead me to the bathroom, and there explained himself.

“You know, Juan, you’ve been insufferable ever since we started that semester. Always distrusting me, and making others distrust me. I’ve never know why you were always so angry at me, while you treated others with respect… that is, until you went on a rant yesterday.

- You fucker ! Turn me back right now, or you’ll wish you’ve never been born, you son of bitch !” I didn’t quite expect to be this foul-mouthed…

- Hahaha ! No, I’m sorry, but I can’t. It’s already so unexpected that my prayers were answered to, so you turning back ? No can do !

- Bro that’s not fair, I wasn’t bad to you, man ! You were the one being rude on my turf, bruh !

- So funny ! You now sound like one stereotypical jock in addition to looking like one ! I’m sorry, Juan, but nobody will ever take you seriously in a conference If you talk to them like that !” he laughs.

- Bro, just turn me back… I promise I won’t continue, man !

- What didn’t you understand in ‘No can do’, Juan ? the ���no’ ?”

I roll my eyes, but he’s right… God that fucking angers me. I want to strangle that piece of shit !

“So, Juan, I guess, see you in class, if you even dare enter it…”

On that, he left. That day, I didn’t go to class, spending my time looking for information on what made me turn like that, until, like clockwork, at 5 PM I felt like I needed to go to the gym…

After a few days of searching and not finding anything at all, I decided to abandon the quest to find myself back and to rather learn to live with this new body. With Ethan stubbornly refusing to tell me how he did it and with my searches on internet only yielding weird fetish pages, I knew it was desperate...

I’ve since started to learn to cope with my strange occurrence, though it has absolutely wrecked my life. After having debated a while with the administration to prove I’m myself, I find my grades slipping, especially due to my newfound rudeness that mess up every single oral exam…

But at least, I’m hot now…

================================================

Hello, thank you for reading my small story, I hope it wasn't too bad !

Please do not hesitate to give me feedback - especially as it is the first real time I'm writing fiction in english ^^'

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for correcting my niblings without my brother's input?

I had a massive falling out with my family when I was a teenager. I was into goth/edgy/horror culture and true crime before it was accepted by the mainstream, plus my parents were older when they had us and we lived on a farm. They needed my brother and me to keep the farm going, and I decided to pursue college instead. At some point after this they sold/lost their farm, but I do not know when, which fueled their resentment. At their request I did not speak to them until 2021, when my brother found me on Facebook to tell me my parents both died of covid and we held a Zoom funeral. After that he moved several states over to be closer to me so we could work on reconciliation and forgiving me for the farm incident.

So now I (45f) babysit his (44m) two youngest children (10m, 8f) for free, and have been since 2021. Initially he had full custody as his ex wife did not have a job or any job experience when they divorced (before we reconciled) but she now has a full time job so they share custody currently, although she is in our home state, so they decided the kids should go to school there still and spend holidays and summers with him. I am currently an art professor at a local university and for summer semester I only have morning classes and he works afternoons, so it works out.

Last week, his youngest asked me; "OP, how come you lie so much?" Her brother tried to shush her but I asked for clarification. Her brother told her she wasn't supposed to tell me, but she did anyway, and then he also chimed in to confirm. Turns out, whenever I told his kids about any vacations to other countries I took, he said I was making it up to sound important. When I told them I went to medical school, he said I was lying and was a glorified art teacher and only went to community college. I have a serious boyfriend who I have mentioned, although I do not spend time with him while babysitting per the mother's request not to have any adult with her children before meeting them and giving the okay, and so my brother insists I made him up.

I was very hurt, and so I showed them pictures, diplomas, videos, etc proving I was not lying. It is true I got into a community college near our home town on an art scholarship and an FHA grant, but I was able to skip generals due to advanced courses I was taking in high school. I quickly got interested in the medical field and was able to transfer to a medical school on several scholarships and obviously loans. I became a pediatric oncologist and was happy with that until my later thirties. I had kept art as a hobby but eventually realized I wanted to do more with it. I retired from pediatric oncology and then became an art professor five years ago. When I was a doctor, I met my current boyfriend (46m) who is a trauma surgeon. Starting in my late twenties, until covid, I was able to travel throughout the US and even to many foreign countries, sometimes for work, sometimes for vacation. There was no way for him to know this as we were not in contact, but I was very hurt that instead of believing me, he has been telling his kids I'm a liar for the past two years. So yes I did show them the photos and videos specifically because I was hurt.

The following day my brother called me and shouted at me, angry I had deliberately contradicted him. He was angry enough he was shouting at me. He has been dragging this on through text for the past few days. His ex wife also contacted me, asking for my version of events, as apparently their children called her crying about the situation. I told her exactly what I said here. He called me not an hour later screaming. Unbeknownst to me, she has been trying to get full custody of the children and he's convinced that this situation will get his kids taken from him, something he has a fear of due to the fact he has two adult children from a previous marriage who went no contact when they both turned 18. He insists that his ex wife turned them against him, and now he is terrified it will happen again. I was not aware of this until recently, nor did I think this would cause an issue with his custody. It has been very awkward babysitting his kids, as they have been very quiet since this whole thing happened. I don't have kids myself, nor have I been divorced, so I don't understand parenting or divorce etiquette, but I am still very hurt and even angry with him for calling me a liar to his children. Before I make any further decisions regarding an apology, I wanted to get advice as to whether I am the asshole for not bringing it up with him before showing his kids evidence that I did, in fact, do those things, and if so, how I can rectify this appropriately.

What are these acronyms?

[oscar-wilde-thing]

Four years ago I sat in a psychiatrist's office. I was explaining why a certain Cognitive Behavioral Therapy technique felt impossible.

"If I don't think I know how a social interaction is going to work out, if I don't know the pattern, I can't do it."

The Dr nodded, and we moved on.

A few sessions later, she said she didn't think she could work with me anymore.

Great, I thought to myself. I'm being dumped by my therapist.

"I don't think I can work with you, because I think you're autistic."

I literally felt my world shift underneath me.

She explained more, about social interactions, about hyper sensitivity, about pattern recognition and anxiety and early-life academic achievement. I did end up stopping treatment with her, I don't really remember why. But I held that suggestion in my head.

The end of 2019 was rocky- working retail around the holidays is its own special hell, and my grandmother died in December of that year.

Then 2020 happened. COVID and isolation and protests and my workplace unionizing. Through all of that I was reading, and watching videos, and researching. About how autism and neurodivergency presents differently in girls and AFAB people. How the research is incredibly outdated and mostly focused on white, middle class boys. How getting a diagnosis as an adult, let alone an AFAB adult, is a fight.

I kept trucking along, learning new ways to cope. Figuring out that sometimes what I had thought were anxiety attacks was actually sensory overload. That my penchant for spreadsheets and what I called my "encyclopedic nerd brain" were probably hyper fixations.

It took 4 years.

4 years, 8 more mental health professionals, a mental breakdown, a month in residential mental health care, and 5 more months in acute daily mental health care, but today, at 12:55PM, I was officially diagnosed with Autism.

I'm sitting here at my desk weeping because I'm both so happy and so angry. Happy that there's a reason I feel the way I feel, that there's a reason why the world seems so harsh, that there's a reason why I sometimes physically can't talk and a reason why certain foods and sounds and textures make me want to crawl out of my skin. But I'm also so angry that it took 26 years for anyone to see. That it took another 4 years for me to get any answers. That there are countless other little girls and adult AFABS like me out there who feel like they're doing everything they're supposed to but not getting what the world tells them they should be getting.

My life has changed. Or maybe it hasn't changed. Maybe a door has opened that had never been seen before.

I'm not sure how to wrap this up.

I just know that learning more about myself is rarely a bad thing. And now that I know this big piece of who I am, I'll be able to go forward and learn more ways to exist in this world as an autistic person.

[coolbeesbro]

Despite my best wishes and going 5 years strong, I got Covid. So now I find myself with more free time on my hands to do personal stuff, and not feel guilty for laying around in bed/in my room for the next few days.

Between bouts of writing, naps, being buried under my cats, and finishing my final for my illustration class, I’ve been working with the clothing design I want to go with for Narinder in my fic. I’m a fan of this, but for the life of me I don’t know how to describe the kind of pants he’s wearing? I also took some time to practice drawing his face, since drawing full anthropomorphic characters in a consistent way is a bit of a challenge for me.

[justagalwhowrites]

Halcyon - Ch. 7: It'll Be Nice to Feel Wanted for a Change

You and Joel decide your next steps. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 6, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

^I keep using Pedro gifs instead of Joel gifs because Joel is such a baby in this fic I'm sorry 😭

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Diet culture type language. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 7.3K

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Told you, I have connections.” 

Joel rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, watching as the kids on the soccer field changed directions. 

“Still feel like business school is overkill,” he said, putting the travel mug in the cupholder of his folding chair. “Especially at this point… GET ‘EM BABY GIRL!” 

Sarah stole the ball from a girl on the other team and dodged another girl before starting to charge up field, a serious look on her face.

“GO SARAH!” You jumped up and screamed, cupping your hands around your mouth. Sarah got pinned down and looked around before passing the ball, sending the it between two defenders to another player. Her teammate got the ball and sent it careening toward the goal before the other team could change direction. It sailed in and Joel leapt to his feet, the two of you jumping and clapping. “HECK YEAH!” 

Sarah beamed at the two of you before she went to hug the girl who scored. You and Joel sat back down as play started back up. The coffee had spilled some in his excitement, the fabric arm of the chair wet. 

“Now is the time to do the business school thing,” you said as you leaned forward on your thighs, watching the game intently, your hands clasped together and tucked between your knees. “And besides, it’s not actual business school. It’s… business school light. Enough to help you draw up a business plan and that kind of shi…stuff. The kind of stuff that you’ll need if you need to take out money from the bank to get started.” 

Joel sighed. He knew you were right, he just wasn’t crazy about the idea. 

After you’d had dinner - and nearly devolved into an argument that, in hindsight, Joel really was not ready to have no matter how hard he was pushing for it - the two of you had gone back and forth about what to do next. 

Your call shouldn’t have surprised him. You’d always been an academic sort of person, the fact that you’d gotten into some fancy college had come as no surprise to Joel. Of course your first idea involved formal education. 

You reached out to a friend of a friend at the business school and got some of his recorded lectures from the era of virtual classes during COVID. He was happy to share them once you explained it, compiling some lectures, notes and guides for Joel to use. 

Joel felt bad about putting some stranger out like that but you said he was happy to do it in exchange for an autographed copy of your book. 

“I know, it’s crazy,” you’d teased when he looked at you in disbelief. “Should have let me draw on your face that one time, think of how valuable it’d be now…” 

Joel just snorted and shook his head. 

“Get in there!” 

You were on your feet again, watching as Sarah tackled the ball away from another girl. You screamed and jumped when she succeeded and Sarah smiled as she clambered back to her feet. 

“Good job, kiddo!” Joel called, still seated but smiling. You got really into Sarah’s games, Joel had quickly learned. He wasn’t about to admit it to you, but he loved it. It reminded him of when you were both in high school, when you’d watch from the front row of the stands during football games, screaming so loud that he could hear you over everyone else at the game. You drew his number on your cheek and bleached it onto a t-shirt. You’d even made Tommy a matching one, something the 10-year-old had taken as a profession of undying love and devotion back then. 

The next time you were at the house after giving him the shirt, Tommy sauntered through the kitchen where you and Joel were having a snack, topless, drenched in cologne and hair slicked back. Joel watched you try not to laugh as Tommy leaned on the table in front of you, giving you a cocky smile. 

“Hey Goldie,” he said, his voice artificially deep. Joel choked on his Coke and covered it with a cough. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“Really?” You asked, brows raised. “Even though I’m here every Saturday afternoon?” 

His smile faltered. 

“Well… uh…” his eyes darted to Joel, like he was looking for help. Joel just held up his hands. “Just… didn’t expect you to be here looking so good.” 

“Oh,” Joel could see the edges of your lips pulling up. “So I don’t normally look good? Darn…” 

“No, wait…” he stood up from the table, eyes darting to Joel again. “I don’t… you…” 

“Don’t you have a matchbox car to crash or something?” Joel asked. “Stop tryin’ to pick up my girl, little man.” 

“Fuck off,” Tommy muttered before stomping back off toward his room. 

“I’ll tell mom you said that,” Joel leaned forward and watched his little brother go. 

“So I’m your girl now?” You teased once he was out of ear shot. “News to me. And be nice to him, he’s just a kid and he’s a sweetheart.” 

“He thinks he’s Don Juanito is what he is,” Joel muttered, sitting back in his seat and taking a sip of his Coke. “You being my girl might be the only way he leaves you alone.” 

You rolled your eyes but smiled a little anyway. 

“All this trouble because I wanted to support my best friend as he fucked up in the red zone…” 

“I’ll tell my mom on your language, too,” he said. “Don’t think she won’t smack you upside your head just because she didn’t birth you. You’re her favorite kid, but don’t push it.” 

Tommy had, thankfully, gotten over his crush on you. A fact that Joel was endlessly thankful for now that his part in helping you complete your list included finding you a fucking date. 

There was a guy on his team at work he thought would at least be something besides a total waste of time. Blake was a decent man, one of the few on the site who didn’t say disgusting shit about women the second they believed they were among other assholes who thought the same way. Joel had caught him reading once on his lunch break, something that he was sure would be important to you. You’d want someone who read. Joel should read more. 

Blake, Joel thought, would be a decent enough guy to set you up with. Not good enough for you - no one was good enough for you - but at least a damn improvement over fucking Brad. 

He just hoped it wouldn’t stick. 

Not that he wanted you to be alone. He didn’t. He wanted you to be happy. More than almost anything else he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to have whatever it took to make that happen. But he wasn’t sure how he’d get past working with someone he knew got to kiss you, touch you, fuck you. He’d hear about dates with you and things you enjoyed with a boyfriend and not just your friend. He’d have to hear all about what someone else was doing for you because he couldn’t. 

Which was fine. Should be fine. You were his friend, you’d always been his friend. He could love you as a friend, he did love you as a friend, he could get past the other shit. He could. 

And if Blake ever decided to try to talk about you the way some of the other assholes they worked with talked about their girlfriends then, well, at least Joel could fucking deck him for it. 

“She’s killing it out there,” you settled back into your folding chair and glanced over at Joel. 

“She always does,” Joel nodded. “She’s got skills, that girl.” 

“She seems to really like it, too,” you said, eyes back on Sarah. “Which is the important thing. If she’s good enough, she could get scholarships and shit. But that really only matters if she also likes it, there’s no use in her being miserable because of the demands of being a student athlete because she happens to be good a sport she doesn’t enjoy…” 

“She loves it,” Joel said. “And, honestly, I’m hopin’ that sticks and that she can get a scholarship, lord knows I can’t afford to shell out for college…” 

“You can’t now,” you corrected him good naturedly. “But once you become Joel Miller: Entrepreneur and man about town, that’s another story.” 

Joel scoffed. 

“What?” You asked. 

“You’ve just got a lot more faith in me than I do.” 

“Aren’t I supposed to?” You asked, looking at him again. “You’re my person so that’s part of my my job. Recognizing your potential.” 

“See, just the fact that you think I have potential to recognize…” 

“Oh shut up,” you swatted his arm and he laughed a little, watching you watch his daughter run back up the field. 

No, Blake didn’t deserve you. No one did. Least of all Joel. 

Sarah’s team won the game and she was beaming when she ran over to you and Joel after the post-game huddle. 

“Did you see that one steal I did?” She asked, leaning between the front seats of the truck. “It was so cool, I almost missed it but then I got it to Sophie and she was able to score and it was so COOL!” 

“Seatbelt,” Joel said. Sarah rolled her eyes but flopped back into her seat and buckled up, anyway. “Thank you. And yes, we saw, Baby Girl! You kicked ass out there.” 

“Can ass kickers pick lunch?” She asked. 

“Ass kickers can pick lunch,” Joel said. “But ass kickers can’t say ass until they’re at least 13, sorry kiddo.” 

“Aw man,” she huffed but then smiled. “I’m gonna swear so much on my 13th birthday…” 

“Yeah I bet you are,” he shook is head and caught you trying not to laugh out of the corner of his eye. “Alright, kiddo, where for lunch?” 

Joel watched her in the rearview mirror, a serious look on her face as she considered her options. 

“Dairy Queen,” she said eventually, nodding seriously. “Because then I can get a Blizzard.” 

“Whatever the ass kicker demands,” Joel said. 

Sarah ordered a burger with her blizzard before going to find a table. Joel got the steak fingers and a shake and you just stood there, staring up at the menu board with a slight frown on your face. 

“What?” Joel asked. “C’mon, it’s a limited menu, can’t be that hard.” 

“It’s just been forever since I’ve been to a DQ,” you said absently. “Not sure what to really get…” 

“Goldie,” he said, voice serious. You looked at him, frowning. “We both know what you get at Dairy Queen.” 

“Yeah, when I was a teenager,” you looked back up at the menu. “Little different now…” 

“Not gonna find a salad up there,” he said. 

“Yeah, but…” 

“Remember how the number one thing on your list was finalize your divorce?” He asked. You looked at him again, brows raised. “Well, this is one part of that you can control. You can ditch all the stupid shit that asshole put in your head, starting with the idea that you can’t get chicken fingers every once in a while.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply, instead looking to the cashier. 

“She’ll do the chicken fingers basket,” Joel said. “With fries. And a medium Reese’s Blizzard.” 

“Small,” you corrected him. 

“Medium,” he said, looking over at you. “Because we both know I want to eat half of it.” 

You laughed a little. 

“Medium,” you said. 

“Alright,” he said, going to pay. 

When the food came out, he took one of your chicken fingers and your eyes went wide. 

“Hey!” 

“Oh sit tight,” he rolled his eyes and dropped one of his steak fingers in your basket. 

“What makes you think I want one of your steak fingers?” You asked, incredulous. 

“You always want one of my steak fingers,” he said. “Every time.” 

You glared at him for a second. 

“Shut up.” 

Joel laughed before dropping an onion ring in your basket and swiping a few fries. 

“So you guys really hung out all the time before, huh?” Sarah said, eating a fry and watching the two of you from across the table. 

“We did,” you smiled at Joel before looking back at Sarah. “We basically lived together, probably drove our moms crazy…” 

“Your mom, maybe,” Joel teased. “Mine loved havin’ you around all the time. Said you were a good influence.” 

“Because I was,” you teased back. 

“So,” Sarah watched you both closely. “Why didn’t I meet you until now? I mean, I met other friends of my dad’s. Did you guys have a fight or something?” 

The two of you looked at each other for a second. How the fuck was Joel supposed to explain this to his kid? Yeah, we were friends, and then the two of us decided to have sex and then just stop talking for a decade and a half? Not quite age appropriate. 

“Well,” you said, dipping one of your fries in your Blizzard before popping it in your mouth. 

“You’re so gross,” Joel said and you rolled your eyes and elbowed him in the side. 

“Shove it,” you smiled a little and looked back to Sarah. “We finished high school and I had to move for college and we just kind of stopped talking quite as much, we didn’t do a great job of keeping in touch. We were busy, it just kind of happens when you’re a grown up.” 

Sarah crinkled her nose. 

“That’s dumb,” she said. 

“You’re right,” you smiled a little, looking at Joel. “But adults do dumb things sometimes.” 

Sarah nodded slowly, taking a fry and dipping it in her Oreo Blizzard before taking a hesitant bite and chewing thoughtfully. She frowned for a moment before her eyes lit up and she dipped the fry again. 

Joel groaned. 

“Not you, too…” 

“Just gotta get on the French fries in ice cream train, Miller,” you smiled smugly. “Sweet, savory? It’s the best.” 

“She’s right, Dad,” Sarah said, dipping another fry. “This is better than ketchup.” 

“I’m surrounded by weirdos,” Joel muttered but he couldn’t help smiling a little to himself, watching you and his daughter together, a strange pull at the base of his chest at the sight. This, he thought, was how it was supposed to be. You were meant to be with the two of them, it was obvious. It was almost strange, how clearly he fit with you. He hadn’t felt like there was something distinctly missing over the last decade. He’d gone about his life, raising his daughter, trying to get ahead at work. He bought a house, kept his brother’s nose clean, buried his mother. There had been no distinct sense of absence. He thought of you often - every day, really - and it hurt but it was a dulled pain, a longing for what he had before. He hadn’t known what he’d really been missing, the way things would be with you at the stage of life you were both in now. 

But now that he had you here, he wondered how he hadn’t noticed this gaping hole at the center of his reality before. There would be no excising you from him now, it wouldn’t work, the ragged edges of your absence would be too clear in everything he did. 

He’d just have to do whatever it took to keep you in his life. Even if that meant setting you up with some guy from work. 

“So Sarah,” you said, ripping your chicken finger in half and reaching over to dip it in the gravy in Joel’s basket. 

“Hey!” 

You ignored him. 

“Do you think you can do me a favor?” You continued, eating the chicken tender. 

“Sure,” she shrugged. “What do you need?” 

“Well,” you said, brushing your hands free of crumbs before taking a sip of your drink. “I was thinking about getting a cat but I have no idea how to pick a cat. Do you think you could come with me to the shelter and help me look? Just make sure I’m finding the right one?” 

Her eyes lit up and she looked at Joel. 

“Can I Dad?” She begged. “Please? I love cats, they’re so cute, and…” 

Joel laughed, draping his arm over the bench behind you. You’d already talked with him about this, seeing if Sarah wanted to go to the animal shelter this afternoon. He knew she’d love it.

“Well,” he sighed, pretending to consider it. “If you promise to behave this week…” 

“I will!” 

“And do all your homework the first time I ask,” he said. 

“Deal!” 

“Then alright,” he conceded. “We can go with Aunt Goldie to pick a cat.” 

“Yes!” She punched the air in victory and Joel smiled and shook his head, settling back in the booth with his shake in his hand. 

The three of you went back to Joel’s and gave Sarah a chance to get cleaned up before heading to the shelter to look at cats. Sarah took over the radio in the car and insisted on playing Taylor Swift and you learned the chorus to one of the songs she was belting in the back seat, singing along the last time through, windows rolled down, your hand tapping out the rhythm of the song on the outside of the door. 

“So what kind of cat do you want?” Sarah asked, turning to face you and Joel as she walked backwards down the row of cages. 

“I don’t really know,” you shrugged. “Never really had a pet. One that wants to sit on my lap and purr?” 

“See what not having a pet as a kid does to you, Dad?” Sarah said, looking at Joel with wide eyes. “Leaves you totally unprepared for picking a pet later in life. I should get a cat, too, while we’re here.” 

“No,” he said. “Watch where you’re walkin’.” 

She rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically but obeyed, leading the way through the cages. 

“Oh, look at this one!” She stopped in front of a cage and laced her fingers through the bars, a black and white cat on the other side of it watching her from the back corner. “She’s so pretty!” 

Joel stood at your back as you paused, looking at the cat for a moment. 

“She is pretty,” you said. “But I want to see all of them first before I see if there are any we want to really meet.” 

Sarah stopped outside of a gray and white tabby’s cage, the cat rubbing its face over the bars. 

“Aw!” She reached a finger out and brushed along its cheek. “She’s so cute! And she seems so sweet!” 

“She does,” you agreed, reaching around Sarah to give the cat a haphazard pet. 

“Dad!” Sarah looked back over her shoulder at him. “Her name is Swiftie! She’s perfect!” 

“We’re not here for us, Baby Girl,” Joel said. “C’mon, more cats to see, don’t get attached.” 

“Well we have to meet that one now,” you said, looking at Joel and very clearly trying not to smile. “It’s required.” 

“It’s really not,” he replied. “God, you’re such a bad influence…” 

“Nah,” you replied. “I’m just always right, you should get used to it.” 

You found another cat you really wanted to meet, an orange striped one who stood on his hind legs in his cage and reached a paw through the bars while meowing loudly for attention. 

“Alright, Baby Girl,” Joel sighed, hands in his pockets. “Why don’t you go find someone who works here, see if we can meet some of these guys…” 

She squealed before running out to find someone, Joel watching her go before turning his attention back to you.

“You’re never gonna have another moment’s peace with that thing in your house,” he said, watching as you reached your fingers through the bars and scratched its head as it purred loudly, arching into your touch. 

“That’s alright,” you smiled, watching the cat. “It’ll be nice to feel wanted for a change. Totally worth it.” 

Joel just looked at you for a moment, an odd twinge in him. Maybe you were lonelier than he realized. Maybe things had been worse with your fucking ex than he’d known. Maybe you didn’t understand that he wanted you. In so many fucking ways, he wanted you. 

He just had no idea how to say that to you, not without fucking up everything else.

“Hi there,” a woman with a name tag walked up, Sarah at her side, before Joel had a chance to say anything at all. “I hear you want to see some cats?” 

You told her the ones you wanted to see and the woman led you to a small room with a bench and some cat toys before going to get the first cat. 

Joel should really have known what was going to happen after that. The three of you settled on the floor, you and Joel sitting beside each other, backs against the cinderblock wall, letting cats climb over your legs and throwing little bell-filled balls for them to chase as Sarah pulled a feather on a string across the floor. You were already attached to the orange cat but Sarah was obviously in love with the gray one. Joel sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, watching as his daughter held the little cat on her lap, talking to it all soft and gentle. 

“I really should’ve known better than to do this,” he muttered and you laughed a little, leaning your head on his shoulder and watching Sarah, too. “Jesus…” 

“At least it’s a cat and not a dog,” you patted his thigh twice before letting your hand rest there near his knee. His heart beat faster. “Could be worse.” 

“So,” the woman came back in, carefully closing the door before the cat on Sarah’s lap could escape. But it didn’t look like there was any risk of it, the little thing seemingly content to stay there for the rest of time. “What are we thinking?” 

“Please, Dad?” Sarah looked at him, her eyes so wide. “I’ll do all the work, I promise. I’ll clean the litter box every day and I’ll feed her and play with her and…” 

Joel sighed. 

“You’d gotta actually do it, Baby Girl,” he said. “I mean it.” 

“I will!” She said, holding the cat close. “I promise!” 

He sighed again. 

“Alright, we’ll take that one…” 

“Fantastic,” the woman smiled. “I’ll start the paperwork…” 

“Oh, and I’m going to get Garfield, the orange one,” you said as she turned to leave. “But I’ll be changing his name…” 

“That’s great,” she said. “But we will have to check and make sure the cats are compatible before we send you home with two…” 

“No,” you laughed. “No, sorry, no, we don’t live together. He’ll be coming with me and this one will be going with them.” 

“Oh!” She laughed back. “I’m so sorry, I just thought you two were married. I’ll get started on the paperwork for both, I’ll be right back.” 

Joel watched the woman go and glanced at Sarah to make sure she was still totally absorbed with the cat on her lap before lowering his voice. 

“Could have denied that a little harder, I think…” 

He practically heard you roll your eyes. 

“What, did you want to see if we could save on adoption fees by filling out one set of paperwork?” You asked. 

“Always said we’d make good roommates,” he replied. “Seems a good a reason as any.”

You scoffed. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said.

“What?” He said, turning his head just enough to see you, still leaning against him. “I’m serious. You really tellin’ me that the idea of living with me is that terrifying?” 

“The inevitable fallout is terrifying, yeah,” you said. 

“Here we go,” the woman came back in with two clipboards and you lifted your head from Joel’s shoulder. “Once you fill this out and pay your deposit, we can run a few checks and you can come back in a few days for your new best friends!” 

“Ah, the truth comes out,” Joel smirked a little as he started completing the paperwork. “You were looking to replace me the whole time…” 

“Well clearly yes,” you said absently, working on your own documents. “Furry, loud, opinionated… You’re basically twins, why do I need you to keep coming over when I’ll have Puck?” 

“Puck?” Joel frowned. “Like hockey puck?” 

“Puck like the fairy from Midsummer,” you replied. Joel must have still looked confused because when you looked over at him, you rolled your eyes. “The mischievous one from Midsummer Night’s Dream? The Shakespeare play? I know you read it, we had to read it sophomore year…” 

“C’mon Dad,” Sarah looked up from the cat in her lap. “Even I know that one.” 

“Alright, well,” Joel said. “You two are the smartest people I know, not fair to judge me by that standard…” 

Joel caught a glimpse of you smiling out of the corner of his eye as he finished the paperwork. 

*** 

“I have a question for you.” 

You opened your eyes to see Joel looking down to you, your head in his lap, his thumb brushing your temple in a soothing rhythm. It was late. Sarah had gone to bed hours before, worn out after her game and suckering her dad into adopting a cat and going to Target to pick out every toy under the sun for her new pet and yours. You were pretty sure you weren’t going home that night, too comfortable in your position against Joel.

“No,” you said, closing your eyes and settling into him and the couch again. “I can’t convince Sarah to give up the cat. My position as the cool aunt is too tenuous, I’m going to side exclusively with Sarah in all conflicts for the foreseeable future…” 

“I could just refuse to pick it up in a few days,” Joel mused. “Tell her the shelter denied our application because of my history as a cold hearted killer with no mercy.” 

“Ah yes,” you smiled a little. “I forgot, Joel Miller, heartless killing machine.” 

“Cold hearted,” he corrected. “Get it right.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” 

“But no,” he continued. “Not what I was going to ask.”

You opened one eye, looking up at him, trying not to think about how soft his eyes were. 

“Shoot,” you said, closing your eye again. 

“Was thinking about the lists…” he trailed off. 

“That wasn’t a question, Miller,” you said after a moment. 

“I’m gettin’ there, don’t rush me, woman.” 

You opened your eyes just enough to see him over you. His hand slipped around to cup the crown of your head. He was so handsome. There should be rules about that, there should be rules about men who are that beautiful. They should need licensing or something, they shouldn’t just be allowed to freely exist, endangering women everywhere. 

You closed your eyes again. 

“Take your time, Miller,” you said. “Not going anywhere.” 

“Anyway,” he said and you could hear his eye roll. His thumb stroked your hair. “Both our lists have relationship shit on ‘em…” 

His voice trailed off and your heart beat a little faster. 

“Yes?” You said when he didn’t continue. 

“Well, you were sayin’ you didn’t know how to do the whole… app thing.” 

“Right…” 

“What if…” he took a deep breath. “We tried going out together. You bring someone for me, I bring someone for you…” 

Your breath hitched. You couldn’t help it. You knew the kind of relationship you had with Joel, the kind of relationship you’d always had with Joel. He’d made it perfectly clear that anything beyond that was totally out of the question for him and you’d accepted that. It had taken a long time - and a failed marriage - but you accepted it. 

That didn’t make the concept of picking out a girlfriend for him sting any less. 

“Just… then you don’t have to fuck around on apps,” he said quickly when you didn’t reply. “And I don’t have to waste my time on someone who wouldn’t work in a million years because you’re doing my thinking for me…” 

“Instead of your dick?” You asked, opening your eyes. He smiled a little. Goddammit, him and his fucking dimple. 

“Exactly,” he said, cocking his head so it was more in line with yours. He looked a little uncertain, his eyes searching yours. “So… what do you think?” 

“Well,” you sighed. “Makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose…. When were you thinking?” 

“I did say we should move ‘get laid’ to the top of your list,” he smirked a little. “So maybe next weekend?” 

“Next weekend?” You sat up so fast that you almost smacked into his nose, your head spinning for a moment. Joel grabbed you to steady you as you twisted haphazardly to face him again, legs crossed in front of you. “Doesn’t that seem fast?” 

He looked at you, puzzled, as he turned to face you, too. 

“Goldie, you and fuckin’ Brad…” 

“Gale.” 

“…Split up a year ago. You gotta get back out there, it’s not fast.” 

“No, I mean,” you closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath before looking at him again. “Isn’t that a little fast to find someone for each other? I wouldn’t even know where to start…” 

There was something about the sheepish look on his face that made your eyes narrow. 

“What.” 

“I… might have someone in mind for you already,” he flinched as he said it. 

“Seriously?” 

“Look, I just don’t want you dating some random asshole, alright?” He said. “He’s a good guy, think you’d have at least some shit in common, feels like I could trust him with you…” 

“Gee, thanks,” you rolled your eyes. 

“I’m being serious!” He looked down at his lap for a moment, absently picking at a seam on his couch. “I worry about you. I know shit’s dangerous for women, alright? Much rather you be out with someone who I know isn’t gonna hurt you than some guy I don’t know that I can trust…” 

“Careful Miller,” you said wryly. “Someone might think you care about me or something.” 

“Well, can’t have that now can we,” he looked up to meet your eyes again, small smile on his face. “I’m already worrying about this shit with Sarah and she’s years off from dating. Outside of her, you’re the most important person in the world to me. Want to know you’re OK out there when I’m not with you. And I’m assuming that you wouldn’t want me to tag along on every damn date you have…” 

“Bold assumption.” 

He glared at you. 

“And this way I can know,” he said. “So yeah, alright, it’s crossed my mind.” 

“Have you talked to this guy?” You asked. “He might want nothing to do with me.” 

“I ain’t worried about that part,” he waved you off. “You’re you and he’s a smart guy, he’ll see what’s on the table. Much more worried about you conning someone into goin’ out with me…” 

“Oh ha ha,” you rolled your eyes. “Because you’ve ever had a problem landing women…” 

“The kind that stick?” He raised his brows. “Yeah, I have.” 

“Fair enough,” you sighed, thinking about the few people you knew in Austin. There was an adjunct professor in your department who you thought might be Joel’s type that you wouldn’t vomit at the thought of seeing him with. “I think I have someone who will go for it. Next weekend?” 

“Next weekend,” he confirmed and then laughed a little. “C’mon, don’t look so miserable about it. Whoever you end up with it’ll be better than fuckin’ Brad.” 

“Gale,” you corrected again and then slumped forward until your forehead was pressed into Joel’s shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before wrapping his arms gently around you. “This sucks. I got married so I wouldn’t have to date anymore. This is bullshit, I want a refund.” 

He laughed once. 

“Don’t think that’s how it works, Goldie,” he said, giving you a little squeeze. “Refund part, I mean.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’d just like the best years of my life back.” 

Joel was quiet for a moment, one hand finding a gentle, easy path over your back. 

“Come on,” he said eventually. “You feel tired. Let’s get some sleep.” 

“Yeah,” you sighed. “Assuming you mean here at this point?” 

He scoffed. 

“Ship sailed on you goin’ home hours ago,” he said. “I know who I’m dealing with.” 

“Yeah yeah.” 

You pulled away from him slowly and followed him up to his room. He loaned you a t-shirt and you got changed in his bathroom, taking your makeup off as best you could with the world’s most basic facial scrub and water before going to find him in bed. He was sitting up, his back against the headboard, scrolling through his phone. He glanced up at you for a moment when you came in and looked back at his phone for a fraction of a second before looking back at you again, his mouth open slightly. 

You frowned. 

“What?” 

“Nothin’,” he said quickly, plugging his phone in and putting it face down on his nightstand. “Just forgot what shirt I gave you.” 

You looked down at it, a faded shirt from the Houston Space Center. You frowned for a moment.

“Was this from when we went when we were kids?” You laughed. “On a field trip?” 

“It is,” he said. “I wanted something that would fit as I was bulking up. Might have been a bit ambitious on the size…” 

“You’ll have to model it for me sometime,” you said, climbing into bed next to him. He turned out the lamp and you heard him lay down. You gave him a second to adjust before you slipped against his side, his arm gong around you. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your forehead as your cheek found its place on his chest. 

“You’re sure about this dating thing?” You asked quietly into the dark. He was so warm next to you. Warm and big and firm and safe. You tried not to think about how desperately you wanted him to say no, in fact, he wasn’t sure. That all he was sure of was that he wanted you. 

He sighed instead. 

“Think so,” he said.”You really that worried about it?” 

You shrugged against him. 

“Goldie.” 

“Just…” you sighed. “I fucked up one marriage already. Why should I think I’ll get it right next time?” 

“You realize that shit isn’t all on you, right?” He asked. “I don’t even know what happened but… I can just about promise that it’s not all on you. Be surprised if any of it is. You gotta stop letting that asshole determine your whole life, Goldie. He’s not worth it.” 

“Yeah,” you said, moving closer to him. “You’re probably right.” 

Joel made sure both of you were up before Sarah in the morning, sparing you both from any of her prying questions, and you spent the morning with them before going home again and trying to write but getting nowhere. You wasted hours on an outline this time before hating the story so much that it made your stomach clench to even look at it. It was so pathetic, a lost woman clinging to a past lover so hard that she couldn’t chart a path forward, and you couldn’t seem to chart a way toward a satisfying end. You started a fire in your fireplace for the first time just so you could burn the paper you’d wasted on this one. You had a glass of wine as you watched the flames devour it, ash floating to the hearth like snow, white and dead. 

Part of it, you were sure, was the fact that you were dreading the idea of talking with Natalie, the adjunct you were going to try to set up with Joel. She’d like him. Of course she’d like him. It was Joel, everyone liked Joel, that was the problem. She’d like him and you’d have to sit there and watch him like her. Love her, eventually. If not her then someone else. You hadn’t been able to handle that when you were 18 and the fact that you were in your 30s now didn’t seem to have changed much. That’s part of why you’d done what you’d done after prom. A small part, perhaps, but a part. 

But you were a grown up now, no longer a girl trying to find her way through the maze of the adult reality you found yourself thrust into. Things were going to be different this time. 

They had to be. 

May 2008, the Tuesday after prom 

“Honey?” 

You could hear the frown in your mom’s voice as you stumbled to your bedroom. 

“That you?” 

You caught yourself on the door frame. Your head was still spinning, why was it still spinning? It felt like you were going to throw up. 

“Yeah,” you managed. “Just me.” 

“You’re home early,” she said, her voice closer. “No Joel today?” 

“No,” you said, hoping you sounded normal. “No Joel today.” 

“Oh,” she sounded surprised. “Hungry? I can make you something…” 

“I’m fine,” you said. “Just… tired. Going to lie down, I think.” 

You didn’t wait for a response, just going in your room and closing the door behind you. Your walls were covered in movie posters, the faces of strangers you felt like you knew through their films an odd comfort as you sat on the edge of your bed. 

It’s Goldie. I wish it were anyone else. It’d be better if it were anyone else.

That’s what he’d said. Anyone else. Anyone but you.

You weren’t sure how long you stared into space. How were you supposed to face him now? How were you supposed to go back to your life now? 

You’d never been a particularly social person - writing all the time didn’t lend itself to vibrant friendships - but Joel had been your person for almost three years. He was who you had, who you told everything to, who you wanted to do everything with. Leaving him behind was going to be the hardest part of going away to school - so hard that part of you was still in denial that it would work that way at all. Part of you thought that he’d find some way to come with you over the summer and it’d be the two of you against the world the way it seemed like it always had been. 

But he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want you. 

I wish it were anyone else. 

“Fuck,” you whispered to yourself, your voice wet. 

Graduation was soon but it was still three weeks out. Three torturous weeks of being next to the person you loved most in the world when they didn’t love you, not really, not at all. 

You weren’t sure how long you stared at the wall when it occurred to you. 

You forced your body to move, joints stiff, and went to your computer, scrolling back through your email history to one from Dr. Gale Newton. An invitation to a summer creative writing workshop, one you’d decided to pass on because it meant leaving Joel months earlier. You hadn’t been ready for that before. You’d gone about checking with your counselor at school to see if it was even possible before deciding you weren’t ready for it. 

You were ready now. 

You called the number in his email signature and the phone rang twice before a woman answered. 

“Dr. Newton’s office,” she said. “This is Florence.” 

“Hi Florence,” you said, sniffing a bit, hoping it didn’t sound like you’d been crying. “Is… um… Is Dr. Newton available?” 

“I can check,” she said. “It’s a bit late in the day… Can I ask who’s calling and what this is about?” 

You gave her your name and told her that you were a candidate for the summer program. 

“Ah, right,” she said. “You were the one denial. Can’t say I remember that happening before! Let me see… yes, one moment, I’ll transfer you back.” 

It didn’t take long. Dr. Newton answered on the first ring, saying your name before you had a chance to say anything at all. 

“I was wondering if I’d get to speak with you directly,” he said. “I’ve never had a student turn down the intensive before.” 

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” you said, voice trembling a little. “I thought I had some things I needed to finish up here before I moved but, as it turns out, I can come up sooner. I was wondering if my spot would still be available?” 

“Well,” he sighed. You could hear the rustle of pages on his end. “The program did already start and you are the only incoming freshman I invited - your online portfolio was quite impressive - I wouldn’t want you to fall behind. How soon could you be here?” 

“I could be there for the start of next week’s sessions,” you said. “And I can try to keep up with some work in the mean time if you want to email me some prompts or assignments…” 

“No, no need for that,” he said. You heard the click of a mouse. “I’m going back over some of your work now, I think this will work fine for what we’re doing next week. There’s a short story here, Golden Boy, that we can workshop alongside the fresh pieces for the coming sessions.” 

You quickly clicked over to the simple blog you’d made to showcase your writing for college applications. You scrolled past one of your senior portraits and bio at the top down to the work and found the story. You couldn’t remember if you’d put the whole piece up or just parts but it was the whole piece, one you’d written about Joel. 

It’d be better if it were anyone else.

Your chest got tight. 

“Perfect,” you said. “That’s great, thank you so, so much…” 

“I hope to see some more dedication out of you when you arrive here,” he said, voice a little more stern now. “I reviewed your portfolio personally and you show a lot of promise but so does every student who comes through this program. If you’re not willing to make sacrifices and work for it, I can’t help you hone that raw skill into what it has the potential to become.” 

“I understand,” you said quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want, whatever you think I need…” 

“I’m willing to work with you one on one,” he said. “Get you caught up over the next few weeks, both because you missed some of the intensive but because you haven’t had any classes here yet. It’s going to be a lot of time and a lot of effort but I’m happy to put in the work if you’re willing to do the same. I expect you to be devoted to this program, do you think you can do that?” 

“Yes sir,” you said. “Absolutely.” 

“Good girl,” he said. “I’ll email you my personal cell phone number, call me there when you get to town. I’ll make sure you get set up in your dorm and we can get to work. Sound good?” 

“Yes,” you said, your eyes falling on a picture of you and Joel laughing on his couch that glared at you from its place next to your computer monitor. You turned it to face the wall. “Yes it does.” 

Next Chapter

A/N: So we now know at least SOME of Bambi's side of the story. Not the whole of it yet but some!

What do you think? Teenaged overreaction? Totally makes sense? Neither? Both?

Also... I hope you caught that Gale had a picture of her before he met her and picked up on how much he'd selected her to be a pupil of particular interest from the get go. He's so slimy. Or, I hope he comes off that way, anyway. He's slimy in my head, at least!

Thank you, as always, for reading. I hope you're enjoying the ride as Joel and Goldie navigate their tangled friendship!

Love you!!!

[survivingcapitalism]

“It feels like shit. It feels like community care is not a thing. The world is so self-centered right now. If something doesn’t immediately affect you personally, then it’s not something to be concerned about,” she said. “I live with severe PTSD. I already lost a child. I’m not willing to lose another child.”  

Hannah Neely, 42, lives in Minneapolis with her husband and two children, ages 10 and 12. She had cancer of the immune system, and between the disease and treatment, her immune system was severely weakened. Before, Neely was a teacher, but she is now too disabled to work. Her husband is a software engineer, although he was recently laid off. 

Neely, her husband and her children wear masks. They do not socialize or eat indoors at restaurants. For a while, her children took classes online through the public school system, but eventually she sent them back to school masked. 

“We go to the store, we go to doctor’s appointments, we go to our kids’ school, but that’s kind of it. And we mask everywhere,” Neely told The 19th. 

In a strange way, Neely feels “lucky” to be a cancer survivor, because it means she doesn’t need to justify her concern about COVID to others. Most people she interacts with do not think she is being unreasonable. 

“I am disabled in a way that is invisible, but sympathetic. I haven’t faced the medical gaslighting people with [chronic fatigue syndrome] have faced. … No medical professionals have ever told me I’m overreacting,” she said. 

Some family and friends have engaged in a sort of wishful thinking. 

“People sometimes say, ‘It’ll be fine. Hannah, I’m sure you’ll be fine. You can’t actually say that with any certainty,” Neely said.

[pleaseeeimjustagirl]

♡Weekly Chronicles♡

Hey babes! I've missed you guysss I am so happy I had an amazing trip it was so nice. I went to a convention in Maryland for 5 days it was so nice. I definitely left with a lot of knowledge so many amazing people spoke at the lectures<3 and I'm sorry I missed the weekly affirmations for this week.

♡Education♡

I applied for all my classes for next semester before my trip. I’m low-key excited about the classes I have coming up. Lot of different courses since I'm almost done with my major required classes now I need to fill the rest of my credits with electives. I have an art class next semester just for fun. I can't wait to meet the people in my classes. I have to take this math class I am not excited for at all I hate math lol so every time I update you girliesss on this class I'll probably be complaining lol.

♡Mental♡

Interacting with different people this past week has been very good for me mentally. It brought me back to pre-quarantine Khadija who was such a big extrovert. After covid, I started to have mild social anxiety so this was needed. I dealt with a little insecurities while on my trip interacting with so many beautiful women I started to doubt my looks comparison is the thief of joy, I practiced a lot of the methods my therapist recommended like canceling one negative thought with two positive thoughts. I realized I was all in my head for no reason. I love watching Leo Skepi when I am feeling this way he always gets me together. I highly recommend him if you are dealing with a lack of discipline, self-confidence, or just need someone to get you together with tough love he is that guyyy. Side noteee I missed my antidepressant dose twice in a row because of traveling back to New York and it low-key made me hazy like it was super weird but I took it today. 

♡Physical♡

While I was away I ate super bad! The event was an African-focused event so the food there wasn’t healthy at all. I was going to stick to my diet while on my trip but I decided I'm on a trip let me relax and I don't regret it at all. But I am seeing the consequences of my food choices now I am soooo bloated lol. So I am starting a cleanse tomorrow for the next 14 days I already prepped my ginger shot for the morning I want to flush my system out completely going into the new year. I don't recommend cleanses especially to my babes that have dealt with ED’s always consult your doctors before starting anything. I just do what works for me. 

♡Hobbies♡

Now that I am back I can get back to being consistent with my Italian, pilates, and weight lifting. I was so sad I could not lift I feel like I'm low-key obsessed with lifting lol it feels so good and I've been seeing results, especially in my lower body. While I was gone I didn't have any time to do my hobbies they had us in lectures and events constantly. I practiced my Italian once which I'm happy about. I plan on starting jewelry making next week I'm super excited it was one of my favorite hobbies when I was in middle school. I used to make earrings and bracelets. 

♡Plans For The Weekend♡

My birthday is Sunday, December 31st! I am turning 21 yay! I am super excited I don't have anything planned for my birthday. I am going to have a mini celebration with my family and watch the ball drop my siblings bought me presents so I'm excited to open everything. I'm starting my cleanse so I'll be working out and taking good care of my body internally and externally so I'll be off social media this weekend and focused on my mental and physical health. I plan on creating my vision board and listing my goals this year. My dad is ordering my camera I used to have a YouTube channel but I took a break to work on my self-improvement journey I do plan on getting back on my YouTube grind soon lol so look out for that coming out in 2024! 

This week's little journal entrieee a lot happened this week and I'm excited to see what this new year brings babesss. Comment your plans this weekend and how did your week go?

[thevioletcaptain]

So I've been quiet on here a lot longer than planned.

The reasons are many. The reasons are varied.

The reasons are mostly fucking horrible.

Under a cut because it's long. Check tags for content warnings.

First was the expected absence: my parents came to visit me in Los Angeles over my birthday, so I spent the first half of October showing them around whenever I wasn't working a shift at my shitty department store day-job, or in class at UCLA.

Then, almost immediately after they went back to Australia, I got a second job working as a personal assistant for a composer. This was (and is) an extremely fun and rewarding job, but meant having one more thing on my weekly schedule, which was an adjustment.

Given that until halfway through last year, I'd been out of work since I immigrated in 2019, it took a while for me to get used to having so many concurrent responsibilities, and I'd just started to get a handle on things when I got sick right before the holidays. I took many covid tests -- all negative -- and eventually determined that it was just last year's strain of flu, which I hadn't managed to find time to get the shot for due to the aforementioned super busy schedule. I'm almost positive it was thanks to a particular customer at the aforementioned shitty department store job who coughed hard enough in my direction for their germs to get through my n95.

Anyway, last year's flu was a monster, and I spent a week in bed with a fever, then several more weeks being utterly drained and with a horrendous cough to match. It took a full month for me to recover, and then in mid-January, almost as soon as I started to catch up on all the things that had fallen behind while I was sick, things got bad, then good, then worse, then better, then much, much, much worse.

Basically, it starts with my dad being diagnosed with prostate cancer. He'd told me in October when they came to see me, but the surgery was scheduled for the tail end of January.

The surgery happened on a Monday, and it was a complete success. They got it all in one go. No chemo or radiation or further treatment needed at all. I spoke to him on the phone after he woke up, and he was in good spirits. Happy to have been given the all clear by his doctors.

I told him to watch Star Trek: Strange New Worlds & Evil while he rested up at home, because I'm writing specs for both this year and wanted him to be able to read them and know what was going on. He's the one who got me into sci-fi and horror, after all.

He went home.

He was home for two days.

He started feeling a bit rough on the Thursday. Short of breath. No appetite. Mum took him back to the hospital, just to be safe.

Turns out he'd had a mild heart attack. They couldn't figure out why. The echocardiogram didn't show any issues with his heart.

Then over the next couple of days, his breathing got worse. They took a scan of his lungs, and found that they were extremely inflamed. They'd given him covid tests but they came back negative. We told them about a work accident he had about 20 years ago, where a switchboard he'd been working on exploded in his face, and he'd suffered from inhalation burns among other things.

They thought that maybe something during the prostate surgery had caused irritation in his already damaged lungs, which put stress on his heart and caused the mild heart attack. He's never had any issues with his lungs since that accident, but they thought that maybe he'd just adapted to the damage over the years without realizing.

They kept trying different treatments to help his lungs heal. Nothing seemed to work. His breathing kept getting worse. They had him on as much oxygen as possible without intubating him, but it wasn't enough, so over that weekend they decided that they'd need to move him to another hospital with a more specialized lung unit.

When they were preparing to do that on the Monday night, he crashed. Another heart attack. Bigger, this time. They intubated him. Sedated him. Called my mum and told her to come in right away because things looked so bad.

But then he rallied. By the morning, though he was still sedated and intubated, the doctors were confident that with the right treatment at the specialized lung unit at the other hospital, he'd be okay. He was still in a rough condition, but stable. They transferred him to the other hospital.

He was given another covid test. This one came back positive.

My mum and brother called me once it was a reasonable time in Los Angeles to let me know what was going on, and the next day my brother booked me a flight back to Australia. I had to leave for the airport about five hours after my ticket was booked.

I got to Melbourne on February 1st.

For the next two weeks, dad was intubated, sedated, and in an isolation room. Every few days, they scanned his lungs again, and they were slowly improving.

Finally, he stopped testing positive, and was moved to a regular room in the ICU. Then he healed enough for them to extubate him and wake him up.

On February 13th, he was conscious enough to squeeze my hand when we went in to see him. On February 14th, he was conscious and capable of talking enough to ask a nurse in his ward to bring him his phone, and called mum first thing in the morning to wish her a happy Valentines Day.

Two days later, on Friday 16th, his lungs looked good enough on scans that they felt it was safe to do an angiogram, which they wanted to do just to double check that there weren't any issues with his heart that they missed with the echo.

They did the test. They found massive blockages. 90% blockage in one artery; significant blockages in two others.

Even though he'd barely recovered from covid, the blockages were bad enough that they scheduled him for open heart surgery on Monday 19th. They said without surgery there was a 100% chance that the blockages would cause another massive heart attack that he would not survive. They said there was about a 20% chance that he'd have complications, but only about 4% that they'd be serious/life threatening.

Like before, the surgery went well. Triple bypass, in the end. We got a call late on Monday afternoon to say that he was in recovery and looking good. His heart was functioning perfectly. They'd bring him out of sedation that night. Keep him in the ICU one or two days just as the standard post-op procedure. He'd spend a week or so in a cardiac ward after that, then head to a physical rehab ward for a couple of weeks until he could build back the muscle mass he'd lost while sedated.

We went in to see him the next day. Tuesday 20th. His 66th birthday.

He was tired, but looked good. Color in his cheeks. He made a couple of jokes. We left after about 45 minutes because he was pretty worn out, and we wanted to let him get some rest.

But then after, that his breathing started to get bad again. By Wednesday morning, they'd switched out the oxygen prongs in his nose for a big, high-pressure mask again. They called to let us know they were going to intubate him again so he could rest while his lungs recovered a bit more.

They struggled to get the tube in.

His lungs were deteriorating badly. He kept getting worse. We couldn't go in to see him because they were working on him all day.

At 9pm we got a call to say that he was just getting worse. They had him on 100% oxygen. He just wasn't absorbing it. His entire body was under massive strain. They were doing everything they could, but he just wasn't improving.

They said we should go in right away.

We got there by 10pm. My brother and his wife arrived about the same time. We went in to see him. He didn't look good. He looked pale. But he was warm, and he'd come back from the brink before, and we were sure he could do it again. We stayed with him for about an hour, and left not long after 11pm. Went back to my brother's place because they live closer to the hospital.

We were there about half an hour before they called us again. Just after midnight. He was gone.

That was about a week and a half ago, now. It still doesn't feel real. He was only 66. He hadn't even retired yet. He was working full time up until the week before Christmas, and had planned on going back to work a few days a week after he'd recovered from surgery. He never had any heart trouble, or lung trouble. He was active. He was fine.

My wife Zel and her mom flew in a couple of days after it happened. I barely remember anything from the past two weeks. Everything just feels fake.

I've been trying to write something to say at the funeral, which we've finally been able to arrange for next week -- it was delayed because we had to wait for dad to be released by the coroner. I don't think I'll be able to do it.

Anyway. That's where I've been.

It'll probably be a little while longer before I'm around here much, let alone posting with any regularity, because I'll be in Australia helping my mum & and my brother sort everything out. I have no idea how long I'll be dealing with stuff, or when I'll be able to make words cooperate enough to post anything, but I'll be back eventually.

I'm trying to keep an eye on Discord (I'm violetmatter over there) so you can find me there if you want. But yeah, I just wanted to let you guys know why I've been so quiet.

[bcacstuff]

To begin with, I like Jamie Fraser. I watched OL last year, reading the books at the same time. I must say that it’s a wonderful fantasy!!! But a fantasy, nothing else.

After that, I was very curious about the actor who played him. He is a very attractive guy, tall, good looking and with a very sweet smile.

I consider myself a pragmatic woman and I don’t tend to admire people madly. We all are humans, after all, with flaws and I can’t understand why some people can blindly adore someone.

Well, it’s have been an education to discover your blog ( and some others!!) Blimey!

I think SH is a person who wasn’t very fortunate in his early life, he is an actor, not exactly an A degree, but I can tell many names who are on the super big screen and much worse actors than him, only they were luckier, that’s all.

I’m very fortunate, never had money problems, went to the Uni, got degrees and became a successful professional when 25. Earning enough money, always. Not rich, but traveling, having all the experiences. I wonder how SH went from being almost destitute to travel first class and all that comes around it.

When I read comments in Tumblr, well..

Never mind, but sometimes I wonder why people can be so cruel.

After sending this message I received this additional message (you didn't hit the Anon box on that one but as I'm not sure you want your blogger name out here, I just took the screenshot and left the name out)

So Hi Anon, thanks for your message(s) and sorry for not answering it right away. I just wanted to take some time to answer you.

The way you came to explore things around and about Sam is most likely similar to many others here that follow and read my blog. And the way you consider yourself a pragmatic woman, might be what most people here are as well.

I remember my 'Blimey' when I started to look into things, and that was just around the time Covid hit the world and many things happened in this fandom. It was entertaining but learning about it all was mind blowing as well. A world I never had any knowledge of.

In my younger years, I was a fan of Queen and Freddie Mercury especially, though anything Queen was of interest for me back then. A whole other world as there was no social media and all I could learn was what was written in pop magazines. I pasted all the pics I could find in my school agenda (I still have it) and at the end of the year that schoolagenda grew about 3 times and was held together with tape. And for the rest,I bought all the records, and enjoyed the music. I knew every song by heart.

But this fandom is from a whole other era and nature as well. Social media became a place to say the most horrible things, people would never tell someone at a person's face. It's easy and some people just do not have any filter. In an era where we should learn about communicating it seems we do the opposite. People are more occupied with airing their voice, making their opinion count, and less interested in listening to other opinions, think them through and try to discuss things in a healthy way. Agreeing to disagree or some tolerance for other opinions, is something people are less and less considerate about it seems.

I never intended to start this blog to begin with, but while going along having seen how different opinions were handled, or better said not handled by simply bullying people away or blocking them just because of another opinion, I more or less hoped this blog can be a place where people can differ in opinion, have a place to discuss things in a normal way, without calling each other out or give them names. I don't have an agenda, I do have an opinion sometimes, but it's always subject to change while other or new information comes along or other views on things are expressed. I like to keep a broader view on things and will always say that everyone can form their own opinion and draw their own conclusions from what I report here. And after all, I don't think anybody should get themselves so upset about a different opinion on this blog or about this actor. There are way more important things in this world that are worth to get upset about. Whether an actor is A list or not, or gets an award or not is not one of them.

SH expressed himself a number of times about his youth, upbringing, you could read his book or just watch interviews about how he traveled the world before he became known for OL. I assume in the beginning going from the less fortunate status (financially) to a very fortunate status, is in the beginning something exciting and a person must feel very lucky about it. Though over the years the excitement wears of and you become used to that status. It doesn't mean you feel less lucky though. But it's not always money that makes you feel lucky or happy, I think.

Anyway, I hope you can stay read my blog and not focus on the negatives in the comments, or on other blogs. If you use the word 'cruel', it's a good thing you're not able to see my inbox from time to time. I really don't get why people feel the need to sent a certain kind of messages. I just don't give them the time of day, they're just childish and a waste of time. It's beyond me why they do so and I decided to not try and understand it anymore.

If I intend anything with this blog, it's something like putting things in perspective. It's never only black or white, there are many shades of gray (no pun intended). But in order to see the shades of gray and every other color, there always will be some blacks and some whites as well.

[woman-respecter]

Yo im super curious now who is that ex bestfriend that u mention on the taggs sometimes? Give us some ☕️

LMAO u have no idea how long i’ve been waiting for someone to ask me this. warning this is long and tells like. the entire story of our friendship which is probably more than u asked for haha

i’ll give the TL;DR here and the full story uner the cut

TL;DR: we were best friends for about 3 years, she found out i had feelings for her, and, though she promised she would stay friends with me, ended up completely abandoning me, refusing to ever speak to me again.

ok so exbestfriend (i’ll call her R) and i became friends in my very first class of freshman year of college. we really hit it off and had like completely compatible ADHD wavelengths. i wouldn’t say we were inseprable that year bc i had other friends we spent more time with but her and I, along with another girl from our class (who was kinda insane. i’ll call her G) would spend a lot of time together. sophmore year R and i got closer and started spending a lot more time together. she was kinda my best friend at that point but also didn’t go to the play that i starred in and worked really hard on which was a minor thing but something i still remember. second semester sophomore year we got a lot closer and spent a lot more time together, often without G. middle of the semester i realized i was in love with R (i remember the exact date actually. feb 28 2020.) but youse know how 2020 was, we got sent home for covid.

during the pandemic i took a gap year and R did zoom college but she and i stayed very close in touch, facetiming and texting all the time. we even sent *handwritted letters* to eachother which i still have. in fact she was the *only* person from college who kept in touch with me then. she usually seemed too busy but tried to make time for me. during this time i fell more in love with her.

first semester my junior, R’s senior year was mostly a really good time for me (until the end which we will get to.) we were finally able to see eachother in person after over a year. G wasn’t there to third wheel because she was studying abroad. and R and i became inseparable, even deciding to take a class together (economics, which i loved and R hated). we also became part of a larger friend group which was great for me because i never had that, but still were closer with eachother than the rest of the group. we spent as much time together as possible and saw eachother almost every day. i will admit i was a little to clingy to her at times but she didn’t seem to mind. during this time she was very affectionate and caring towards me. she even did little things that made me think she may have returned my feelings like holding my hand. the other girls in our friend group seemed to believe that R may have liked me as well.

and here’s the part you’ve all been waiting for IF YOU ARE HERE FOR THE BREAKUP START READING HERE: for hanukkah i knitted her a pair of mittens, which i gave her along with a letter borderline confessing my feelings to her. after reading the letter she called me, told me she didn’t return my feelings and that in fact she now felt uncomfortable with me hugging her or telling her i loved her (as a friend) but said she would still would remain friends with me no matter what. the next day we had a convo over text where she said some pretty hurtful things which caused me to kind of act out the next time i saw her at a get together with the rest of our friends. the last time i saw her in person that semester (or, spoiler alert, ever) was when i had to beg her to drive me to the airport to go home for the semester because i could not get an uber but she only did so begrudingly (even tho before my confession of love she had planned to take me to the airport that day)

during winter break i tried reaching out to her to talk things out but she said we didn’t need to. i tried to text her about the game we both played (genshin impact haha) but she would never respond. when we got back to school i kept trying to get her to hang out with our friend group but she always said she had something going on or straight up not responding. she didn’t text me on my birthday either. eventually at the end of february, i think my other friend (who is currently my only remaining friend from that group fun fact) contacted her and told R how bad i was doing because of her absence (oh yeah i forgot to mention, i became suicidally depressed from R’s absence) so R called me and while we argued about a bunch of stuff and she was somewhat homophobic towards me (she said she was more comfortable being friends with G because G was straight) she eventually told me that yes we could be friends again she just needed more time. which i guess i was ok with but it did not stop me from being suicidally depressed.

a month later i reach out to R like hey i really miss being friends could you let me know when you want to be friends again. a WEEK after me sending that text she responds and tells me she doesn’t want to be friends ever again and says some more hurtful shit. that’s the last i’ve heard from her. i almost offed myself at this.

rest of that semester goes badly, my depression gets worse and worse to the point that i lose the rest of my friends except for one (who happens to share a name with R, a sick coincidence) because they can’t deal with it. also R blocks me on instagram and genshin impact.

my depression is a bit better now, it was super treatment resistant so i changed meds a few times. but i’m still not fully recovered from this and i never will be. all i want in life is to have her back. there is an R shaped hole in me that will never and can never be filled. i’m not sure if i’m capable of ever loving again.

so yeahhh thats it. if u read this whole thing ur insane but i love u 💖

[dancingtotuyo]

The Life We Built (Joel Miller)

Part 5 of Build You The World Joel X Reader Rating: PG-13 (Language) Warnings: fluff, that's it. Tags: no outbreak, fluff, craftsman!Joel, Time jump, it's 2023 folks, no mentions of COVID, you decide if it happened Notes: So we've reached the end of this little adventure that was only supposed to be a one shot, but never fear! I have another Joel Miller idea in the works. Check out my Masterlist for some Javier Peña works as well! Thank you everyone for your support! Words: 1998

Series Master List | Author Master list

Joel eased into the chair next to you under the pergola he built 25 years ago. It was still sturdy and spoke to Joel’s craftsmanship. The sun was beginning to set, granting some relief to the spring heat as you watched your three grown children clean up the backyard. They’d insisted the two of you relax. 

Emma graduated from Duke last weekend with honors in Pre-med. Which meant traveling to North Carolina for the ceremony. Joel has insisted on driving up. He hated flying. With a 20-hour car ride one way, you caught up on a lot of reading and almost booked yourself a plane ticket home. The two of you had been gone for almost a week. So her graduation party took place this weekend at home. She’d been accepted into UNC-Chapel Hill’s School of Medicine and would be going back to Durham in a couple of weeks. She was officially moving out, boxes already stacked high in her room. You and Joel both chose not to think about your baby leaving the nest for good.  

Emma laughed at something Asher said. You couldn’t see Sarah roll her eyes, but you knew by her body language. Joel chuckled next to you. He sensed it too, both in tune with your children. 

Asher graduated with a Bachelor's in Engineering from UT-Austin a few years ago, choosing to stay close to home. He had a small apartment in town working at Miller Construction since graduation. Joel joked that if he didn’t put his degree to use soon, he was gonna have to rebrand as Miller and Son. You had a sneaking suspicion that’s what Asher wanted. He and Joel shared the same love of building things with their hands. 

“Grandpa!” Sarah’s 3-year-old daughter, Jessie bounded across the yard, dark curls bouncing like springs behind her. You could see the brightly colored book in her grasp.

She panted heavily as she reached the two of you. Her small hands rested on Joel’s knees. She looked up through dark lashes. “Will you read this to me?”

Joel smiled. She reminded you so much of Sarah at her age. “Don’t you want grandma to do it? She’s a much better reader than me.”

“No, you!”

“Okay, Okay.” Joel chuckled, pulling the child onto his lap. You closed your eyes as you listened to Joel read. His drawl had only deepened with age but it still flowed like honey. It soothed your weary bones and often brought you through time, making you feel 25 again. 

Sarah had started college at the University of Georgia but transferred to UT-Austin after her freshman year. She loved Georgia, but she missed being close to her family more. She’d earned her Bachelor's in Journalism and Creative Writing (also with Honors). Working across all aspects of journalism, she went back to get her MFA several years later. She worked freelance for several publications and taught a creative writing class at the community college in town. She’d married Mike 6 years ago. They’d been together since senior year of college aside from a one-year gap. They’d bought a house just down the street from you and Joel soon after their wedding. Jessie’s 4th birthday was next week, and aside from her husband, you were the only other person to know that Sarah was 8 weeks pregnant. They were planning to reveal it next on Father’s Day.

You and Sarah were convinced Joel didn’t have a clue. The two of you were desperate to surprise him. Other than his 45th birthday party, you and Sarah hadn’t been able to surprise Joel in the 31 years you’d loved him. He’d even figured out Sarah’s first pregnancy before they’d told anyone. 

Joel continued to read. The world drifted further away only anchored by the sound of his voice. Sometimes a bird’s song drifted in and out. The warm breeze floated across your skin. Joel’s voice stayed constant. 

“Grandpa… Shhhhh, grandma is sleepin.”

Joel looked up from the book. He smiled. The wrinkles around his eyes were well-defined now. “I think she’s just restin her eyes, kiddo.”

“That’s what you say when you’re sleeping!” Jessie giggled. 

“Keep reading,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. “The story was just getting good.” 

He looked at Jessie who nodded her head, and he continued. 

The construction business had been good to Joel. Miller Construction kept its outstanding reputation throughout the years, something Joel worried about as the number of crews grew and his ability to check up on every job decreased. Joel spent most of his days on job sites in a supervisory capacity. He trained the new hires to meet his rigid standards, and his body took less wear and tear. He was able to spend more quiet morning moments with you. At 56 years old, he was still the best pitcher in the men’s rec softball league. He took every Thursday morning off to hang out with Jessie while Sarah taught her class at the Community College. He piddled in the garage on weekends, working on the next project. He’d just redone the kitchen cabinets. Tommy joked that Joel lived in partial retirement, but there was some truth to it. You liked seeing him take time 

Joel finished the book as Sarah and Mike walked over. You slowly opened your eyes, letting the world envelope you once again. 

“It’s time for us to go home, Bear,” Mike said. 

Before Jessie could issue a complaint, Joel pulled her into a back-breaking squeeze. She laughed. He tickled her sides. “Grandpa!” 

“I gotta make sure you meet your tickle quota.” 

“I have! I have!” Jessie laughed, her cheeks turning red. 

“Okay,” Joel let out a deep breath. “I think that’s enough for today.” 

Jessie wrapped her arms around Joel’s neck, kissing his cheek. “Love you, Grandpa!”

“I love you too.” He kissed her cheek, patting her back. “I’ll see you on Thursday.”

Jessie slid off his lap, rushing to you. A chorus of goodbyes between parties rose in the corner of your backyard in hugs and handshakes. Jessie nestled into her father’s arms, eyes already beginning to droop. 

Joel wrapped his arms around you. You leaned into him. His hands traveled down your back, lips finding yours. You grinned feeling warm and giddy. Even after all these years, he still had the same effect on you. 

Gagging noises interrupted your moment. Asher and Emma stood on the porch directing said sounds at you. 

“Get a room!”

“We don’t want to see that!”

Joel flipped them off before firmly grabbing your ass making a show of the steamy kiss he planted on you. You laughed. He kissed your neck softly. 

“You’re gonna traumatize the kids.”

“They’re grown adults. They can leave.” He nuzzled into your neck. “I want to kiss my wife in our backyard.”  

“Y’all are gross.” Asher chided. 

“If it weren’t for us, you two wouldn’t be here,” Joel shouted back. 

“You say that like it’s a good thing!” Emma responded. “Have you seen the world?”

“Hey,” You laughed. “You’re the saving grace of this family, Miss I’m going to be a doctor.” 

Asher scowled. “Don’t say that. Her head will get bigger than it already is.” He ruffled Emma’s hair. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “We’re done cleaning up. We’ll leave you two to do… that.” She motioned toward you and Joel. “Asher’s gonna take me out on the town.”

“Make smart decisions,” Joel called.

“Always!” Emma smiled. 

The duo filed out of the backyard leaving you and Joel alone. Joel kissed your forehead as you swayed to a nonexistent tune. 

When you finally stopped, you and Joel sought the respite of AC inside. Joel prepared a plate of leftovers for the two of you to share on the couch. You read as Joel watched the Baseball game on low volume. You propped your feet on his lap. His thumbs found the soles of your feet applying pressure. You hummed. 

You had stepped down from your position at Miller Construction after Emma started high school. As much as you loved working with Joel and helping him build and expand the business, desires drew you elsewhere. You started working part-time at the public library. When their head librarian announced plans to retire, the city had offered to pay for you to get your Masters in Library Science providing you could give them a 10-year commitment. Daunting at first, you’d managed to complete the courses in 2 years via an online program. You work at the library full-time now. Joel often brought Jessie in on Thursday mornings along with a coffee for you. You tended to the garden on weekends. Joel replaced your raised beds a few years ago. You had the kids over for dinner once a week. You and Sarah walked the block on pleasant evenings. You spent lazy evenings on the couch with Joel, something that had rarely been a part of your marriage until the past few years. 

“I’ve been thinking…”

You looked up from your book. “Uh oh, that’s never good.”

He tickled the bottom of your foot earning a squeal. Everyone talked about growing out of being ticklish. That had never happened to you. “I think it’s probably time to refinish the book nook.”

You glanced behind you, eyes trailing over the bookshelves Joel had built you more than 25 years ago. They’d been through it. The finish was peeling in a few places. The cabinet doors that lined the bottom were dented and scratched from a number of things bumping and running into it while raising 3 kids. You glanced at the farthest one, still stained with faint marks from Emma taking Sharpies to it when she was 3. Residue from stickers marked other areas. 

“Sounds like a big project.”

“I’ve got the time.” Joel smiled. 

He reached down beside him, revealing a gift bag. A simple brown paper bag with a gold ribbon neatly tied and curled. Sarah’s trademark. He handed it to you with a smile.

“This from you or Sarah?”

“Me.” Joel crinkled his nose. “Just asked Sarah to wrap it for you.”

You lifted the bag up and down. It felt like it was probably a book. It rarely wasn’t. “And what is this for?” You smiled at him.

“Just fulfilling my husbandly duties.”

You laughed as you untied the ribbon. Joel had taken your first line to him like an oath over the course of your relationship. He’d surprised you with a new book at random times. Sometimes you came home to one on the kitchen counter or your nightstand. Other times, wrapped or handed to you, each with an inscription detailing something he loved about you and how “Pretty” didn’t cut it. 

You smiled at him, pulling a hardcover book out of the bag. You opened the front cover. A piece of paper slipped out. Before you could investigate, Joel’s handwriting caught your attention. 

I don’t know if you’ve been counting, darling, but this is the 100th book I’ve given you. When I met you in that bar, I knew if I had the chance to give you just one, I’d be the luckiest man alive. 

We always talked about going on a big trip for our 25th wedding anniversary. I know it’s a little bit late, but I booked us on that trip to Italy you were eying last year. 

I’m sure it’ll be beautiful, but I still think the best view is you. 

I love you, Darling. 

You picked up the slip of paper: the booking confirmation set for mid-September. You looked up at Joel, tears blurring your vision. 

He chuckled. “Surprise.”

You set the book carefully on the end table, moving onto Joel’s lap. “You hate flying.”

“But I love new places.” He kissed your nose. He still looked at you like you hung the galaxy. You imagined you looked at him the same. “And you.”  

You kissed him, the words whispered for just the two of you. “I love you too.”