#//me rollin in late with starbucks as always

[miss-dorcxs]

where: dorcas’s flat, london when: january 1st, 1979 tw: death, mentions of torture

It was near the end of August that Dorcas Meadows met her entirely too early demise.  August had never been her favourite month, hot and sticky and never ending as it tended to be.  Ever since childhood, she liked the Fall best.  It brought about the feeling of new beginnings as the seasons changed, and it was really too bad that the previous Fall had been the last Fall she’d ever get to experience, and she hadn’t even realized it.  She’d even taken advantage of it.

Her capture had been quick, and she steeled herself for merciless torture from the Death Eaters, which did come.  What she hadn’t expected was a visit from You-Know-Who himself. It might have been flattering if it weren’t so terrifying, and different happy moments from her short life quite literally flashed before her eyes.

What was the Order going to do without her?

Immobilized by some invisible spell, she forced herself to meet You-Know-Who’s eyes, determined to seem braver than she felt even though her heart was hammering itself around inside of her chest so loudly she wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear it.

Bracing herself for more pain, Dorcas was entirely surprised when You-Know-Who tried to reason with her, instead.

“There’s still time to join us.”  He told her, in a voice that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. “You could prove useful.  And use gets highly rewarded.”

“You can go and fuck yourself”, Dorcas spat back, a line that may have been a lot more impressive if her voice hadn’t cracked.

“Such a waste.”

A bright flash of green took over, and everything went dark.

-

Dorcas opened her eyes, and immediately furrowed her brows into a deep, confused frown.  

Something wasn’t right.

It was dark and cold, but she was surrounded by something soft and plushy.  Did pillows and a duvet come in some sort of bizarre afterlife starter package?

Was she a ghost?

No, that couldn’t be, she wouldn’t have ever tried to come back.  Death was terrifying, sure, because it was so unknown, but she wouldn’t have ever purposely elected to hang back and become a ghost.  She would have wanted to go onto whatever was next.

Was she in some sort of purgatory?  

Determined to live the same day on a loop, reliving her death over and over again?  That may have been a distinct possibility, but she didn’t fear death so much that that would be her torture cycle.

Had she thought about getting killed so often that it was starting to show up in her dreams? That was surely a possibility, but even in her wildest dreams she wouldn’t have placed You-Know-Who as her murderer. Besides, it all felt too real to be a dream.

Dorcas let her hands pat around her body – she felt real enough.  Tangible, there in the flesh.  She pinched herself, then smacked her cheeks and still got the same results.

There was absolutely no way that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named would have cast a spell that sent her home to her perfectly comfortable bed.  Something more sinister had to be going on.

Slowly inching out of the bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor so unexpectedly that she shivered, she stood, leaving the bedroom in search of the kitchen kitchen, running her hands under cold water from the tap.  She splashed a little on her face, deciding that she was real enough.  At least that crossed off one of her many burning questions.

This was her flat, there was no doubt about it.  It felt comforting and familiar, which was helping to cut through the confusion and dread.

A discarded newspaper lay, tossed haphazardly aside on the counter, and she picked it up, eyes nearly bulging out of her head at the date.

December 27th, 1978.  

She knew that she would never have clung to an entire paper from nearly three years ago.  Certain clippings she may have saved, surely, but not the entire thing.  That indicated to her that it was either late 1978 or early 1979.

What the actual fuck was going on?!

“This is completely normal.  Right on”, Dorcas muttered to herself as she rummaged through her cabinet for the first food item she could find.  Settling for a bag of crisps, she ripped them open and started shoving them into her mouth at rapid speed, rocking back and forth to at least attempt to ground herself.

“Totally and completely normal, everyday stuff, really.”

She’d always thought it would take her longer to snap, but here she was, absolutely out of her goddamn mind.  Pinching the bridge of her nose, as if that would help her make sense of things, she sighed, “Okay, there has to be some perfectly logical explanation for all of this.”

Here she was, speaking entirely to herself with her mouth full of crisps.  Maybe she had lost it a little.

Her go to was usually act first, then think and ask questions later, but this was all so confusing and complicated that even Dorcas found herself taking a pause to mull it all over.

She had so many questions, and found herself reaching for a scrap piece of parchment so that she could write them all down.  Was she at St. Mungo’s in the brain injury department, making this all up in a fantasy land inside of her mind?  Was she the only one who had been sent back?  If yes, why?  Was she the only one who remembered the next two years?  If yes, why?  Had she even died?

Were they destined to live everything the same, all over again, or was there a way to change the way that the future was written?!

If she really had died, her own death didn’t matter, not really.  Not in the grand scheme of things, not if she’d helped the Order.  She knew that there was no way she’d change her actions, there was no chance that she’d ever be quieter just because she knew that death was a possibility.  It had always been a possibility.

The fear of death wasn’t reason to stop living.  The fear of death wasn’t reason to stop doing what was right.

As confused as she was, she couldn’t help but feel a thrum of excitement radiate through her. Even if she were destined to die in the same way at the same time, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t stir up as much shit as possible before she did.

Question after question came pouring out of her, straight from her brain to the parchment.  The only way she was going to be able to answer any of these questions was if she tracked some people down, and she knew exactly who she was going to try to find first.

Marlene McKinnon.

Dorcas wanted to see if she’d been brought back from the dead, too.

[nosdreamsrp]

                     › THE MEMBER GROUPS

The member groups found on nostalgic dreams are based on popular fashion brands that you see many wearing on social media. We have four different tiers ( standard, premium, elite & diamond ) and each tier has four different brands within it. Down below you will find our sixteen member groups with traits and simple aesthetics so everyone has an easy fit for their characters!

standard member groups

quirky › uncouth › curious › forgetful

skateboarding or skating in free time › late nights on the beach › blastoff by internet music › chain smoking cigarettes › dirty and torn vans › messy hair › monster energy drinks › winged eyeliner › choppy bangs › sunflower by post malone › white tees x denim jeans › cliff diving at night › bucket hats › cross body fanny packs › reflective colors › flower snapchat filter › sleeping through alarms › fades into the background

irrational › playful › mischievous › bold

strong cologne and perfume › baby showers › strappy heels › bad and boujee by migos › gold grills › natural makeup › straight hair › timberland boots › late night breakfast spots › red hues for accents › suede material › hennessy black › denim x neutral colors › kickback with friends › at fault by medasin & felly › patterns › frappes from starbucks › broken promises › curiosity killed the cat › not so trusting

socially aware › lazy › adventurous › fanatical

all white attire › eating cereal for dinner › going shopping with friends › setting multiple alarms › red bull and vodka › curly hair › frequent visits to art galleries › hoodies and cargos › yamborghini high by a$ap mob › sight-seeing for photo-ops › simple jewelry › hot girl bummer by blackbear › wispy lashes › gold caps › amusement parks on the weekend › rhetorical questions › always the peace makers › cool and comfortable

bourgeoisie › idealistic › know-it-all › persistent

picnics in the park › always has an opinion about something › good as hell by lizzo › chunky sneakers › braided pony-tails › attends charity events › always has a plan › text back in 2 to 3 business days › blazers and combat boots › blurred lines by robin thicke › coffee in the morning › dark hues of color › too smart for their own good › obsessed with coordinating › lover of vanilla scents › minimalistic jewelry

premium member groups

optimistic › selfish › discreet › inconsistent

oversized tees › inconsistent actions › hustle & flow by zaehd & ceo › reads newspaper comics › caffeine over sleep › cross-body bags › social loners › too cool for school › walking snapple facts › where’s my juul?? by full tac & lil mariko › layers clothing › black as an accent › love the smell of flowers › rolled up jeans x thick socks › triple texters › tiny sunglasses › lover of music festivals › fishnet material

manipulative › go-getters › frivolous › spontaneous

clubbing on the weekends › flashing cash in pictures › designer from head to toe › said sum by moneybagg yo › headband accessories › bright color accents › quick money schemes › night owls › face tattoos › oversleeping in the mornings › imma by bbno$ & lentra › prefers facetime over phone calls › silk & satin material › always in large crowds › woodsy and earthy scents › overflow of gold jewelry

nature-focused › oversensitive › cautious › self-indulgent

bonfires on the beach › loose and flowy clothing › too many pillows on the bed › rollin by calvin harris, future and khalid › early nights & mornings › organized planners and journals › brunch on the weekends › straw and fringe material › tiny handbags › vacationing on islands › coffee bean by zaniah › bitter and zesty flavors › beach curls or waves › green is serene › million dollar smiles › dewy skin

temperamental › confident › melodramatic › witty

flavored swishers › jewelry anklets › basketball and football › loads of unread messages › fresh hairstyles › sum 2 prove by lil baby › late night drives › hip hop music on repeat › gamer heads › always texting, never calling › vodka drinkers › durags and dad caps › whats poppin by jack harlow › sleeping in on weekends › wears sunglasses inside › life of the party › knock knock jokes › wake and bakes

elite member groups

whimsical › spoiled › empathetic › irresponsible

their way or the highway › falling asleep on the phone › indecisive about life › dunkin donuts over starbucks › dior by pop smoke › lace and mesh material › 90’s aesthetics › dramatic lashes › easily persuaded › cluttered spaces › layered chains › what they want by russ › takeout over cooking › has a hard time fitting in › mixed prints and patterns › has to be center of attention › silk scarves › floral parfum

judgmental › traditional › evasive › diplomatic

online shopping › distressed jeans › astrology lover › minimalistic vibes › enamel pins and brooches › chanel (go get it) by young thug, gunna and lil baby › handwritten love notes › more logical and practical › hot apple cider with cinnamon › leading the conversation › supalonely by benee & gus dapperton › monochromatic colors › frequents museums › murder mysteries lover › moral sensibility › prefers action over words

meticulous › inconsistent › humble › catty

lover of vintage designers › espresso shots › name plate jewelry › happy by pharrell williams › starts new things but never finish › autumn nights › loves meeting new people › works well under pressure › winged eyeliner › chocolate candy eaters › detailed oriented › instrumental music › cooler than me by mike posner › chunky and platform heels › sand between their toes › loyalty over everything

devious › persuasive › rebellious › flirtatious

take tons of selfies but never post them › bright colors › drinks with umbrellas › snake lovers › demons by drake, fivio foreign and sosa geek › ice cream sundaes › seizes every opportunity › reckless when drunk › smoky eyeshadow › moody by briijean › sweet scents › socks x sandals › drumsticks over flats › compulsive liars › teardrop tattoos › pool party throwers › color blocking aesthetics › impulsive nature

diamond member groups

charming › reserved › innocent › jealous

love diy projects › rom-com lovers › drinking water from a wine glass › my hair free care free › fresh scents › getting caught in the rain › pink matter by frank ocean and andre 3000 › cuddling with a love one › denim on top of denim › blushes easily › singing in the shower › watermelon sugar by harry styles › white button-up shirts › bamboo plants for luck › up before sunrise › mutes the group chats

scatterbrained › imaginative › martyr › resourceful

oversized sunglasses › hard on the outside but mushy on the inside › loves conspiracy theories › would misplace their head if it wasn't attached to their shoulders › mismatched clothing › why don’t i care by gglum › cancelling plans last minute › watching the sun set with friends › sticky and sweet flavors › prefers waking up in the afternoon › thrifted furniture › deep meaningful conversations › earfquake by tyler, the creator › brown and yellow accents

studious › possessive › mature › talkative

hasty when provoked › alternative music › collects artwork and coins › knows more than they should › dream catchers on their walls › read books at coffee shops › bloom by troye sivan › gardens full of produce or flowers › random dance sessions › animal prints › nitro cold brew coffee › parce by maluma and others › speaks in third person › leather watches › whiskey connoisseurs › watches the history channel

volatile › spunky › promiscuous › nurturing

matte black everything › monster by kanye west and others › hidden flasks of liquor › displays public affection › positive vibes only › hot summer nights › drunk texts and voicemails › less clothes the better › champagne showers › late night rendezvous › drunk face by machine gun kelly › full of energy › has an idgaf attitude about life › speeding in traffic › simple silver jewelry › mile high club

[storibambino]

If It Ain’t Broke Ch. 2

A/N: Here we are for chapter 2. I went back and changed some things because inspiration changed so I apologize for the delay guys. Please enjoy it! Thank you so much again to @wakanda-inspired for this request. This is 9,528/30,000 for the challenge that apparently I’m still doing. 

Still no beta so all mistakes are mine

Pairings: ErikxNakia OkoyexW’Kabi, T’ChallaxOroro(Storm) featuring our merry band of BP characters

Warnings: None 

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 - It’s a Secret

“How is it I’ve never heard of any cousin?” Nakia asked over the speaker on her phone.

“None of us had until about this time last year,” Okoye responded. Okoye followed Nakia in her own car on their way to meet the mechanic T’Challa suggested, “None of us ever saw it coming.”

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

“Eh, it’s not really my story to tell. It’s the building on the left. You can pull up to the garage,” Okoye stated quickly and hung up.

The shop was a fairly large black building with ‘Golden Jaguar Repairs’ written ornately above the doors. Nakia pulled up to the open garage doors and hopped out to meet Okoye at the door of the lobby area.  Okoye threw the door open and called out to signal their arrival. Quite the feat over the music playing throughout the area. Heavy bass and playful strings were the only response until a man dressed in a black coverall with gold detailing to match the rest of the décor emerged from a side door. He swaggered over to greet them, rag in hand.

“Wassup General,” He nodded to Okoye.

“Stevens,” Okoye responded politely but Nakia noticed a tightness in her tone, “This is Nakia. She is the woman T’Challa called you about.”

Nakia extended her hand but the man didn’t take it.

“No offense ma, but I’m covered in grease and I would hate to dirty up those lovely hands of yours,” he said with a wink.

Nakia pulled back her hand and crossed her arms over her chest, regarding the stranger. Okoye only rolled her eyes.

“The car is why we’re here,” Okoye interjected.

“Yeah, yeah you can follow me to the office Princess to get this paperwork done,” Erik said and gestured for Nakia to follow.

Erik led Nakia to his back office while Okoye stayed in the lobby. The office was decorated much like the rest of the building. There were papers strewn all over a spacious mahogany desk, spilling onto the floor. Two black leather office chairs are the only other furniture in the room. Nakia took a seat in one of the chairs while Erik stood behind the desk. He opened a drawer and pulled out a few forms then handed them with a clipboard and pen to Nakia.

“Your filing system is a little unorthodox for someone’s that ex-military,” Nakia while eyeing the forms.

“You got jokes I see. The price just went up,” Erik shot back.

Nakia held up her hands and laughed, “I’m just saying. You might want to invest in a file cabinet.”

“I have several out in the garage and behind the front desk but that’s not your business is it?”

“I guess not,” Nakia went back to read over the papers.

“Who told you I was ex-military?”

“You did. The general joke was kinda obvious,” Nakia smiled to herself but didn’t look up from the documents.

Erik took a step back and looked the attractive woman up and down. He took in her soft features and deep brown skin. Her beautiful hands made quick work of all the signatures needed and her eyes scanned the pages effortlessly.

“All these say is I’m leaving my car with you and a payment agreement. You haven’t even looked at my car.” Nakia said finally looking up from the papers.

“True. I didn’t need to look at it to know you need the works,” Erik sat down next to Nakia and took the paperwork, “I could hear you coming from a mile away, princess.”

“I am no princess.”

“Car like that. You’re someone’s princess that thing is a work of art.” Erik clapped his hands and stood up swiftly, “Let’s go get a look under the hood.

Fifteen minutes later Erik had pulled the car into the garage, looked under the hood, and was currently under it checking oil pans or something else. He moved quickly and with precision, jotting down notes here and there. Nakia and Okoye stood nearby chatting idly about their plans for the rest of the day and trip. Okoye kept one eye on Erik at all times. Which Nakia noticed but kept to herself.

“Ok Ms. Nakia I’m all finished with your assessment,” Erik slid from under the car and stood to face the women.

“What’s the damage, sir?” Nakia responded.

“Don’t call me that. I might like it,” Erik gave her another wink.

Okoye cleared her throat rather loudly.

“All work no play General,” Erik gave Okoye a brilliant smile, all white teeth and a bit of gold, “Back to you. You need brakes, spark plugs, ya transmission flushed and a whole gang of other shit. She’s pretty but her personality needs some work.”

“So it’s scrap metal?”

“I ain’t say all that. All she needs is some love and she’ll be rollin’ smooth. I can get started first thing in the morning,” Erik finished.

“What time?” Nakia asked.

“I usually roll in here bout 7. I don’t have any others to finish myself,” Erik answered.

“Ok, I’ll be here.”

“Excuse me?” Erik and Okoye answered in unison.

“I want to be here while you’re working on my car,” Nakia responded nonchalantly. She looked between the two of them for a moment before Okoye pulled her off to the side asking Erik it excuse them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Okoye pressed.

“I’m getting my car fixed,” Nakia deadpanned.

“I mean with him. Why would you want to spend an entire day here? With Erik.”

“I will not leave my dead father’s car in the care of a stranger without being observant,” Nakia stated. Okoye didn’t budge, “I’m curious. That’s all Ye.”

The nickname wasn’t fair. Nakia only used it when she didn’t want Okoye to ask any questions about her actions. Like when they went on their first joyride or got into their first fight. It was always ‘That’s all Ye’ and she would immediately back off. Okoye studied her for a few more seconds then sighed and walked back over to Erik who wasn’t eavesdropping at all.

“Y’all settled up then?”

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Nakia answered. Okoye stayed silent. The two women headed toward the open garage door.

“How you gonna get here?” Erik called out, “I got your car ma.”

“You’re picking me up. I’ll be ready at 6:30. Okoye texted you the address. Don’t be late.”

Nakia didn’t look back to confirm Erik agreed to her terms. However, she didn’t need to in order to know he would be at her door the next morning.

At her door, he was indeed. Well, not technically her door but the door of one of T’Challa’s many properties in which she was staying at the moment. He insisted a luxury condo was better than a hotel and she was not about to give him the satisfaction of agreeing with him openly.

Erik was inexcusably chipper at 6:30 in the god damn morning. He greeted her with coffee and a chocolate chip muffin.

“I don’t drink coffee,” Nakia said through a yawn although she took the cup.

“I know. That’s mine princess. I got tea for you in the car,” Erik gently slid the cup out of her hands and stepped aside so she could exit the condo. She didn’t quite glare at him but it was damn close. A smug little smile and nod were all he offered her then followed her out and let the door shut behind them. Neither of them worried about locking the door. Shuri installed automated locks and biometrics on all the Udaku properties.

Outside Erik’s truck was waiting. It was exactly what Nakia had expected, black on black with gold details. As she slid into the front passenger seat she noticed the body was reinforced and the glass bulletproof. Maybe not exactly what she was expecting after all. Erik got in and gestured toward the lidded paper cup in the holder closest to her. She took it and sampled the tea he brought for her, lavender chai. It was perfectly (but not too) sweet and complemented the muffin well, of course, none of his business.

“This isn’t from Starbucks,” Nakia stated plainly.

“Nah. That shit is terrible. I got a spot around the way I like,” Erik kept his eyes on the road and Nakia kept hers on him, “I can show if you like.”

“How did you know I like tea opposed to coffee?”

“I’m observant,” He quipped and flashed his too pretty white and gold smile.

Nakia didn’t respond just kept a calculating stare at his profile, enjoying her gifted breakfast.  Erik reached down and turned on the radio. Nakia braced herself against the impending bass but was greeted by horns and keys.

“Jazz?”

“Jazz,” Erik confirmed.

“Jazz?” Nakia repeated.

“I grew up in Harlem for the most part,” Erik shrugged, “So yes, jazz first thing in the morning is good for the soul.”

Nakia made some non-committal noise and sat back in her seat. By this time she had eaten half of the muffin she the other half she sat on the center console. Erik picked it up, taking a large bite and mumbling something about crumbs in his whip. The rest of the ride passed in an easy silence. They arrived quickly at the shop, Nakia memorized the route for future use.

Erik pulled into one of the bays at the far end of the garage. Erik disappeared into the office leaving Nakia to wander around alone. She went to her father’s car, her car now. The last piece of him she had with her in the physical world. She ran her fingers along the hood. Anyone else looking at the car would think the custom paint but Nakia knew better than that. There was the faintest scratch on the hood near the grill.

When she was a little girl her father would take her to sit by the water on Lake Shore. He would lean against the hood while she sat on the car listening to the waves and counting the clouds. On those evenings fights were rare but not completely eliminated. On one warm summer afternoon, she kicked the hood in anger. She had begged her mother for converse with little studs in the toe and she got them for her, one of the last gifts she received from her before she passed. Naturally, Nakia wore them every day. The fight was started small but snowballed when he asked her not to wear the worn shoes anymore. They were old and a proper little lady should have new shoes.

How could he ask, no how could he tell her that she had to throw away all she had of her mother left? Of course, the shoes were not the only part of her mother she had left, but when you’re fourteen your logic isn’t exactly rational. When she kicked the hood of her father’s prized car she meant it. All she did was leave a small scratch and severely bruise her toes, which caused another argument. She touched the scratch again and smiled fondly.

“I can get that out for you,” Erik startled her from her memories.

“No,” She answered a bit too quickly. Erik raised his eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Nakia began to explain herself but stopped. She hadn’t noticed Erik enter the room but now she looked at him and a smile spread across her face, “Those are adorable.”

“Hush,” He scowled at her from behind is gold frames, “I was doing paperwork.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m just saying I think the glasses are a good look.”

“Yeah, yeah. Have a seat and don’t touch my shit,” Erik had donned a pair of navy coveralls and gestured to a workbench near the vehicle. Nakia took a seat and Erik got to work raising the car on a lift and examining it piece by piece, “You sure you wanna chill here all day?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Nakia glanced around the garage again, “Where are your employees.”

“It’s just me.” The hush was heavily implied.

Hush she did, for a while anyway. She texted Okoye and let her know she was ok and she definitely did not need to come and get her. After asking more and more invasive questions Erik shooed her away into his office. While in there she checked her email. The contact she’d reached out to for files on Erik had gotten back to her.  The files were thin but it was a start. She spent the next two hours or so doing research on the man in the other room.

Erik came and got her right around when she finished her snooping, “Ordered us some lunch. Should be here in a few.”

Nakia followed Erik back out into the garage area. The tires were off her car and various tools were strewn about. She took up her previous seat on the workbench. Erik went back to his work sliding under the car to finish something she couldn’t see. She watched him for a moment analyzing his body language, looking for an opening. Leaning forward she decided on a plan of attack.

“Tell me, Erik. How does someone go from Special Ops, a SEAL no doubt, to a mechanic in Oakland?” Nakia asked from her perch on the workbench near Erik’s feet.

“I came home. After the…incident my pompous cousin offered to welcome me with open arms. Be a part of the family business, Thanksgivings, and all that shit.” Erik rolled out from under the car and looked up to Nakia, “But it didn’t feel right. All this time I thought I wanted revenge or some proverbial piece of the pie. I guess what I really wanted was for them to see me.”

“You wanted a family,” Nakia leaned down to meet Erik’s eyes. They were a little glossy but she didn’t mention it. She wasn’t expecting this level of honesty from the man. She was looking forward to some form of mental chess before getting any kind of emotional realness from him, it was refreshing but it felt far too intimate for what she needed to accomplish.

“Yeah, I guess now I got one. They are a complete pain in my ass but mine all the same,” Erik said before standing up. Nakia leaned back to give him room.

“I’m sure they would say the same about you,” She smiled and eyed him closely as he wiped grease from his hands. Erik didn’t return her smile.

He drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head to the side slightly, “So tell me Nakia what’s an active CIA operative doing in my shop?” Nakia’s mouth fell open, “You ain’t the only one with friends.”

Nakia quickly regained her composure, “I’m here because while visiting a friend my car broke down. That same friend was kind enough to suggest you, his cousin, for the repairs.”

“Does your friend, my cousin, know why you’re really here?” Erik was playing a very dangerous game and he knew it.

“Friends in high places I see,” Nakia responded, avoiding a direct answer.

“Low places too. Why didn’t you tell him?”

“That isn’t your business is it?” Nakia dropped her façade for a moment and became serious, “I couldn’t, not yet. Question is: Are you gonna tell him?”

“Nah, like you said it ain’t my business but watch yourself things like this get real messy real fast”

“You worried about me? I think that’s cute,” Nakia teased.

“I protect my family,” Erik said looking at Nakia directly, “By any means.”

Before Nakia could respond there was a loud knock followed by the voice of a man announcing delivery. Erik’s demeanor changed and he smiled at Nakia again, “I hope you like Thai.”

Nakia nodded and watched him leave to get the food. She had so many decisions to make. Could her mission be compromised? How much did Erik know about her? Could she protect her friends? More important at this moment was a different question. How did Erik know she loved Thai food?

Tags:  @ovoxosavage @therevolution-willbelive@mamipeachy @wakandas-vibranium @wakandan-flowerz@texasbama @randomwordprompts @bartierbakarimobisson@maya-leche @theultimateblacknerdwithglasses @great-neckpectations @kumkaniudaku @blackgirloneshots@soldierandawar @babygirlofwakanda @to-the-water-ixazaluoh@sithlordslut@thorsthot @stevesthot@thattinycookiemonster @killmongersaidheyauntie @sunigyrl@daytimeheroicsonly @unholyxcumbucket @melaninmarvel@skysynclair19@pocmarvelworks @wildaboutchrisevans @non-stop-imagines @alanastormborn @tutufufuface @killmoncoochie@chefjessypooh @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @bakarisangel

[itsjayyyy]

November 12, 2018 12:50 pm

alright so the last real update was thursday. So friday i had class in the morning, which was review for the bio exam on wednesday, then after that I went to work. I think i was on cash but I cant remember (yea i know it was only a few days ago). oh i was cash, but closest to bar so i was helping bar a lot too. Saturday I had off, and Friday night I was like “saturday I’m gonna be so productive, I’m gonna detail clean my bike and study for bio more and organize my room” but then actual saturday came and it was like,,,,, eh.

I woke up and was gonna go get breakfast, but my teeth were still sore from my ortho appointment, so my first thought was to have oatmeal. But I’ve had oatmeal every day since the appointment, and I was getting sick of it, and also was craving something salty since I’ve had nothing but sweets recently. I really wanted an omelette, especially one with mushrooms, and realized that I hadn’t yet eaten at keke’s since rose got hired, so I went there. I asked to be put in her section, but man she had nonstop large groups. The people I was sitting next to were so obnoxious too, always sending food back for the smallest thing. After I finished I told her I’d wait until she got off work so we could hang. It took her over an hour (in which I was just loitering in publix), then we sat in the parking lot trying to figure out what to do. I wanted to go to tampa, but by then it was already 3 so it was kind of too late. We decided to go to the free art museum in rollins. it was p aesthetic, got a couple good pics for ig. I’m trying to lighten my feed, bc a lot of my pictures used to be really dark. 

After the museum, we swung by starbucks, then went back to the west side to scoop up peter from work. We went back to his place for a minute, then went back to the east side to pick up. we drove by edc, it looked cool. on the way back we stopped by a wawa to get some snacks (seriously, why is the brownie flavored muddy buddies discontinued???), then headed back to his place to smoke. Bruh we watched the tuesday episode of supernatural, and that shit fucked me up. 

Obvs it was a challenge driving a motorcycle while slightly high, so rose and peter said theyd drive behind me to make sure i got home safe. For some reason, I thought that I needed to be making sure rose was driving safe, so i spent more time looking in my rearview mirror than looking at the road. 

Sunday I was working at cinnabon from 2-9. I think I actually did pretty good, I never ran out of buns AND was out right as my shift ended. It helped that we ran out of vanilla ice cream an hour before close so I was able to shut it down early and clean it then instead of after we closed. For some reason (i had a medium coffee (with chestnut praline syrup- pretty good as a cheap drink) which is like 182 mg of caffeine) I was feeling really motivated when I got home, so I put new sheets on my bed, did a load of laundry (and put it away!), and cleaned my floor before going to bed. I also ate a healthy, vegetable based soup (you know the one, the spicy bean soup that every poor family lives off of) which was definitely better than another bowl of oatmeal with nutella and coconut flakes.

Today I woke up around 9, had more bean soup, took a shower, and did a face mask. It’s only 1, so I’m probably gonna split the rest of the day between studying for my two exams this week and organizing my room. I’m starting to get serious about wanting to move out, and I need to clear a lot of clutter (i know i did a round of purging my room a few months ago, but tbh it wasn’t nearly enough). On saturday, on the way to pick up peter as rose and i were driving down i-4, she asked if, in the next two years or so, I would want to move back to michigan with her. She then also said that mom and dad would want to move back too, but like in separate apartments (and maybe a few cities between them), and she didn’t want to just leave me all by myself. I unloaded a lot of my feelings on her then, but I don’t think she really got it. I told her that I would never ask mom and dad for help because they’ve made it clear that they don’t love me or care about me, that I was tired of being treated like an accessory in her whole life, how I’m pushed to the side while everything is made about her, and how I was WAY more likely to be fine just by myself than any of the three of them. Not sure how much I got through to her, but it definitely made me realize something: i needed to start making my own moves in life. A while back I was trying to clean out my likes on here (i was up to 20k- that’s what happens when you’ve had an account for 7 years) and I saw a tweet that said “sometimes you can’t wait until you have all your ducks in a row, you just have to grab what you can and make a run for it.” I think that’s what I’m gonna do. I know for sure, that with my current bills, I can allow for 350 to go towards rent, and I also have 1000 saved, which, if I stretch it to my next student refund, can give me around 600 per month total for rent. I know that ucf has a food pantry where you can get 5 items per day no questions asked, I know several recipes that average at 50 cents per serving, and I know that within the next month I’m gonna buy a phone mount for my bike and start delivering with postmates, where I can earn between 8-15 per hour (and can have flexible hours). I think I’m probably gonna stick around at home for a maximum of, until the new year, then I’m gone. Worse comes to worse, I have 2000 at my disposal in credit cards, and don’t need to worry about maintaining a credit score since I’m not gonna buy a new car any time soon. Just gotta start looking for places to live now.