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et-lesailes · 5 years ago

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missing linc // chapter one

pairing: ceo!steve x reader

word count: 2670

series summary: you are a college student working at a daycare full time during your summer break, and you have grown especially fond of one of the toddlers in your class, lincoln rogers. you are certainly not expecting to develop such a huge crush on his dad steve when you meet him for the first time, but you can’t help but be attracted to the businessman– despite the fact that he’s married. however, as intelligent and mature as steve comes across, he has a few secrets behind his marriage- one in particular he may never be able to make up for.

series themes: romance, drama, age gap, infidelity, smut in later chapters

chapter summary: reader meets steve rogers for the first time.

taglist: @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @chalamet-evans , @world-of-losers , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @tanyam93 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester , @little-miss-exo, @poerebel , @pining-and-tired , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @malthestorytellerblog, @rainbowkisses31, @jbug491writinghelp, @quaiderade, @melannie77, @gigistorm, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @firstangeldragonranch, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @honeyloverogers, @capsiclesdoll, @qrndevans, @mcueveryday, @drkstrangeson

note: tbh this is inspired from my real life job at a daycare except the only difference is that nothing has happened yet from my crush on a hot dad but heY who knows what the future holds!!!

** please send an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist! also shoutout to @thewritingdoll for the graphic!

You exhaled loudly as you finally got a moment to relax, one of the program support staff of the daycare currently covering for you so you could go to the bathroom.

You absolutely loved working with kids and were striving to be in the field of developmental psychology one day-- but for now, while you were still working on your bachelor’s degree, working at a daycare where you could at least observe and work with kids and their development would have to do. You loved every second of it, but it was certainly exhausting taking care of eighteen toddlers. Thankfully, you had the help of other toddler teachers; there was no way you could have done it yourself.

You had only just recently switched to working full days; now that it was summer vacation, you could work from 9 to 6 as a closer rather than only going for a few hours here and there before or after your classes. It was your third day of working full time, and while it was a lot, you were still happy with the job.

You felt especially attached to one of your toddlers. Lincoln Rogers, or more commonly referred to as Linc, was a bright, happy, and cheeky boy, and although he had his naughty moments, he just had so much personality you could not help but be in love. He seemed to be especially fond of you too, constantly following you around, liking to cling to you, and even crying when you left for your lunch break.

He had blonde hair, shining blue eyes, and was quite big for being only eighteen months old; he practically looked like a two-year-old already, what with his head full of hair and his adorable clothes. He often wore cute little polos and colored shorts or cool, dark “jeans”, only of course, made more comfortable than actual denim in order to better suit a child.

You had only ever seen his mother, Tiana, drop him off and pick him up, and based on her appearance, it seemed like the boy had inherited a majority of his looks from his father. She had chestnut brown hair and matching eyes, and was on the more petite side compared to her son who was probably in the 95th percentile for his height. She seemed nice enough, always polite with you and thanking you for taking care of him, but you could see that she always seemed so tired, so stressed. Was it work? Personal problems? Did it have to do with why Dad was never picking up? For obvious reasons, you could not ask these things, but being so attached to Linc, you wish you knew just to satisfy your intrusive curiosity.

It had been about a week into your new schedule when you would finally meet Dad, and the day of, before you even knew anything about it, the staff was absolutely buzzing. When your co-teacher, Stephanie, walked into the room that morning wearing a slightly low cut shirt, you glanced at her chest before looking to her, eyebrow raised in amusement. “What?�� she asked defensively, giggling. “Yesterday at pick up, Linc’s mom said that Dad is dropping off this morning. I know you haven’t met this man yet, but trust me, he is gorgeous.” You were immediately intrigued. Not because of his apparent good looks (okay, maybe slightly because of his apparent good looks), but because you would finally be able to place a face to the father figure in Linc’s life, the little boy who you practically saw as your own baby. In as non-creepy of a way as possible. “What’s he like?” you asked curiously, simultaneously keeping your eye on the few children in the room that had been dropped off early. “He’s only a literal God,” another teacher scoffed as she walked in, having overheard your question. “We are talking about Steve, right?”

“Brittany, you’re not even a toddler teacher,” you said to her with an amused laugh, arching an eyebrow. “What are you doing in this room and why are you on a first name basis with his dad?”

“Leanna is with the preschoolers, I don’t need to be there too!” she defended herself playfully before fanning herself in an exaggerated lustful gesture. “Before you worked here, I would help out in the toddler room sometimes. I only knew Tiana then, but she asked if I could babysit this one time. When I went over, I met Steve- they were both getting ready to go on a date or something. And Y/N, let me tell you,” she paused, letting out a whistle, “this man is beautiful. Linc’s a little replica of him- the blond hair, blue eyes, and he’s so tall. Probably slightly over six feet.” You listened in awe, cocking your head. “How come he never usually drops him off or picks him up?”

“He’s a CEO,” Stephanie answered, sighing dreamily. “So as you can imagine, he’s pretty busy. Meetings, calls, traveling all the time-- I guess he happens to be in town now. And you can bet he’s going to walk in here in a suit and tie, one that probably costs more than all my past paychecks put together.”

You looked down at your own outfit, consisting of a tee from the college you attended and leggings. Because it was a daycare job, it was not really necessary to dress up considering you had babies spitting up on you or smearing dirt on you when they went in for hugs. Still, you found yourself suddenly feeling a little self-conscious, even though you knew that was ridiculous. “He travels a lot?” you asked, trying to distract yourself from your simple wardrobe. “So I guess Linc doesn’t get to see him too often, then?” Such a thought seemed sad.

“Oh, no. That man loves his son way too much. Even if he’s all the way in London or Tokyo, he flies back for the weekend just to be able to see his family. Even though Linc doesn’t see him as much as Mom, you should see the bond they have.” Brittany sighed, shaking her head adoringly. “God, it’s so hot when a man knows how to be a father.”

“I need him to be my daddy,” Stephanie commented, and you laughed loudly, playfully nudging her. “There are innocent children in here, would you chill?” She laughed too, going over to scoop one of the girls up, bouncing her and making her laugh. “It’s okay, they don’t understand yet!”

You were about to ask Brittany what Steve’s relationship with Tiana was like, just out of curiosity, but then another parent came in the classroom. Turning to greet him and his son, you couldn’t help but feel impatient and excited, wanting to finally be able to meet Linc’s dad.

It was nearly 10:15 AM and still no sign of Linc; all the kids were generally dropped off by 9:30, considering that most parents had to go straight to work after, and you wondered if he would be coming at all today seeing that he was normally there before you even came in for your shift.

You were standing by the baby slide outside, supervising the kids playing on it when the door to the playground opened. As you looked up to see who it was, your breath was practically taken away.

He was just as Brittany described. Tall, blond, piercing eyes-- you could not see them up close just yet, but they already looked pretty. He was carrying Linc in one arm and you could see the shocking resemblance between the two, their facial features practically identical let alone the hair and eyes. Linc was generally a pretty happy child, but he looked even more ecstatic now, practically glowing as he bounced around in his father’s hold. You were incredibly confused at how such a scene could be so painstakingly adorable and so sinfully sexy at the same time. Brittany was right, a man who could be a father was hot, and his looks definitely helped too. Stephanie had also been correct; he was adorned in a very expensive looking suit, matched with a blue tie that complemented his pacific hues.

“Hi, Steve!” Stephanie greeted, and you watched her come over to him with a wide smile on her face. “Hey there, Linc! Look at you, you happy little man! Are you happy that Daddy’s back in town?” You chuckled as you watched; she was not being over-the-top simply for Steve, she was always this happy and playful around the children and you respected her for not letting this bizarrely gorgeous man disrupt that. “Hey there, Miss Stephanie.” Steve greeted in return, and you bit your lip from hearing his deep voice, wondering if this man had any flaws. “Sorry we’re late. I took the morning off today to spend some quality time with the little man. I should have let you guys know,” he apologized, eyes now scanning for the other teacher, then blinked as he saw you. “Oh, hi there. Are you new?” he asked with a charming smile, and you forced yourself to get it together.

“Yes, hi!” You walked over, though still making sure the children were in your periphery. “I’m Miss Y/N, I’ve actually been working part time here for a while but I just recently switched to full time.” You explained, then smiled as you reached out to playfully poke Linc’s cheek. “And I absolutely love this little guy! He’s such a sweetheart.”

Linc immediately giggled upon seeing you, suddenly reaching his arms out towards you. Steve blinked before chuckling intrigued, cocking his head. “Wow. I rarely see him do that with anyone. You already ready to leave Daddy for Miss Y/N, huh, tiger?” he asked him playfully, mocking offense. He handed him to you, handsome smile still gracing his lips. “He must really like you. Though I’m not surprised, he always likes the pretty girls.”

He said it so casually, your shocked brain could not even fully process that it was a flirtation-- he was already looking back towards Stephanie as if his comment was a perfectly natural thing to say in conversation with someone he had just met. “I’ll come pick him up too, I’ll probably be here around 5:30.” Looking back at you and him, he smiled and leaned down, kissing his son’s head. He was so close you could smell his cologne, even his minty breath. “I love you,” he spoke in a deep rumble, and your heart practically sighed. “Be good, kiddo. Don’t drive these ladies too crazy.” He straightened up again before winking at you, then turned around to head back inside.

You were standing there still in shock, but when you heard a whimper slowly sound from Linc’s throat upon seeing his father was gone, you snapped back to reality. “Shhh,” you comforted him, running your fingers through his blonde locks. “He said he’s coming to pick you up tonight! You’ll see him before you know it, okay?” The little boy sniffled and buried his face in your neck, hugging you tightly.

“Um, so, is he like that with everyone?” you asked Stephanie in reference to Steve, turning to her still a little bit in disbelief over what had just happened. She even looked shocked herself, scoffing amused. “Uh, no? I’ve never seen him flirt like that. Ugh, you’re so lucky.” You blinked and cocked your head. “Doesn’t he have a wife, though…? I mean, he and Tiana are married, right?” Stephanie nodded but made a slight face as if to indicate it was a bit more complicated than that. “I don’t know anything for sure, obviously, but something definitely seems off about that relationship. The only time I’ve seen them together was for Linc’s enrollment meeting, and… they didn’t really seem like they were vibing, you know? It wasn’t like they were arguing or upset with each other, it just seemed like they barely even knew or wanted to know each other. It was so weird, I had never seen a couple like that before.” She shook her head, continuing as she leaned over to pull a rock out of a kid's hand before he could eat it, “I mean, how could you not want to know that man? He’s practically an angel.”

You frowned thoughtfully. “Brittany said they had been getting ready to go on a date though, that one time she babysat. Maybe it had just been an off day for them when you saw them?” She shrugged her shoulders, though still looked uncertain. “I don’t know. After what I saw, it’s hard to imagine them even eating dinner in the same house. But who knows.” Stepping forward, she stroked Linc’s hair too, playfully poking at his hip to tickle him slightly. “What I do know, though, is that they definitely make cute babies!”

You smiled and nodded in agreement, deciding to drop the subject. It wasn’t any of your business anyways, the gossip simply kept you and your coworkers entertained through the hours of singing children's songs and chasing around hyperactive toddlers all day. Still, you could not help but think of that damn smile and wink for the rest of the day, even blushing like a little schoolgirl upon remembering Steve calling you pretty. As a twenty year old, you were more used to being called cute if anything at all, and so the compliment coming from a grown man (and a very attractive one at that) meant all the more.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers au #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x you #ml #ceo!steve

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jpechacek · 7 years ago

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Eldritch Princesses: Rapunzel

Previous design posts here, here, here, here, here, and here.

Ooh, an easy one: Rapunzel is locked in a tower, tons of unspeakable horrors from beyond space and time are locked away also, the connection is obvious. And because tower by itself isn’t like incredibly evocative, I thought it would be cool to head into overt reference territory and bring in some allusions to one of my favorite cosmic horror stories: At The Mountains of Madness, by our old problematic fave, H.P. Lovecraft.

I don’t think I’ve talked an awful lot about ol’ Howie Phil, at least not here, since insofar as this project has a goal or ethos, it’s “make cosmic horror safe from people like him”. Even people who haven’t encountered the genre have probably heard about what a grotesque racist and misogynist he was. And liking cosmic horror practically requires you to come to grips with how you feel about artists like him—what you’ll excuse, and what you absolutely won’t tolerate.

In stories like “The Shadow Over Innsmouth” he preaches against the dangers of miscegenation. In “The Dreams in the Witch House” and “The Thing on the Doorstep” (and with the creation of the goddess-monster Shub-Niggurath) he plays upon male fears of female power. In nearly all his stories there is a pervasive fear of non-Christian religion, specifically anything originating with people of color. And in At The Mountains of Madness, he delivers a sermon on the decadence of “advanced” civilizations, and the dangers of letting your slaves get too intelligent.

Yeah, I don’t really read Lovecraft anymore.

I discovered him when I was in college, and I was silly and thought overt racism was the only racism. The possibility of symbolism, even unconscious symbolism, in horror hadn’t occurred to me. And it didn’t help that nearly every critical work I read on Lovecraft at the time focused on his craft (lol) and devoted, at most, a few sentences to the repellent views driving it. Thus “Innsmouth” can be written about in terms of how well he sustains an action sequence. Or you can look at the experience of fear and write 1,000 words about the romantic tradition and its notion of the sublime. Or you can write about the limits of human knowledge. Anything to ensure that he’s treated more as a wacky uncle than a person perpetuating dangerous, harmful views. It wasn’t until I upped my reading comprehension skills and read criticism by anyone but straight white men that I realized just how terrible a person he was, and the extent to which that influenced his work.

If you remove At The Mountains of Madness just slightly from its context, it could be read as a quasi-Marxist warning: the Elder Things, masters of a great civilization and creators of life on Earth, are overthrown after generations of mistreating their labor class. Which, indeed, is how younger me initially saw it. But Lovecraft wasn’t thinking like that. He looked back with fondness to the days when Black people were uneducated property (significantly, the Elder Things’ mindless workers, or shoggoths, are pitch-black). He gives all his sympathy to the Elder Things but none at all to the shoggoths whom they oppressed. Masters must keep a tight leash on their slaves, and they must not educate them at all.

So what’s good about Mountains and why did I choose to reference it here? The setting. The setting is incredible: a ruined city in Antarctica, once tropical, inhabited by a vaguely crinoid race. (And, until you get to the horrible racial politics in the back half, it’s a truly creepy and gripping horror story.) That’s literally it.

Now, I’m not here to tell anyone what to read. We all consume problematic media, because all media are problematic. But it pays to think about what you’re reading, and what it’s telling you. Who does it want you to be afraid of, and why? If the answer is “entire cultural groups, whom you can easily discern by these negative traits”, maybe find somewhere else to spend your money.

OKAY, art time. As I said above, I liked the setting of Mountains, and the whole “ancient evil lurks beyond the ken of Man” thing, so I thought “let’s put Rapunzel in a ruined tower in Antarctica”.

This early direction is more @70sscifiart, but I quickly discovered I wasn’t comfortable working in that style. It’s just a little outside my range; visually, I might be too literal a thinker to go so stylized.

In Mountains, the Elder Things are heavily aquatic; Lovecraft is known for his marine-inspired monsters. And with good reason: the ocean is a horrific hellscape. So I started looking there, specifically at corals and brittle stars, for a visual guide.

Now we’ve got a city. And two tiny little explorers there at the bottom. The setting is more fully realized: mountains (yay) and snow (yay) and huge organic structures (eek). At this point I’d also started putting more thought into Rapunzel Herself. What is She? Why is She there? Is She imprisoned, or what? It felt right to have Her tentacles not only extending down into the city, but also up off the page toward the sky. The brittle star design also recalls, if vaguely, the starry motifs in Tangled, and Her swirling tentacles sorta kinda match the lanterns spiraling into the sky. I wasn’t pushing that too hard, though, because this isn’t so much Disney’s Rapunzel as it is a distillation of all Rapunzels I’ve seen.

Finito!

You can see that I’m playing with atmosphere perspective here by using a very fine pen for the more distant structures, a heavier one for the midground, and a brush pen to give the foreground more visual weight. I like the city itself here: the lack of differentiation in the structures is an intentional choice to give it a more alien feel (again, drawing inspiration from coral here). I also like the impression that the entire city would sing in the wind like so many organ pipes. I tried to give a sense of age and ruin by having the snow drifting through those canyons, and burying some stelae near the explorers. There’s a lot more detail than is visible here, like rows of openings on Rapunzel’s tower that allow more of Her tentacles to seep through, or Her body itself, which has a ton of fine structures that you can’t really see.

And that’s Eldritch Rapunzel! I’ve already started on Snow White; as always, follow me on Instagram and Twitter for more regular process stuff. After Snow White, there’s just Tiana, and I might do Elsa just for the heck of it, but I promise nothing. See you around, and thanks for your attention and patience!

If you’re interested in reading some solid Lovecraft stuff, Tor.com is a great starting place, and the multiplicity of authors means you can chase a lot of rabbits. It’s also a good resource for Lovecraft-inspired fiction that interrogates or recasts the more disturbing aspects of his work.

#eldritch princesses #process #rapunzel #tangled #disney princesses

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sahibookworm · 5 years ago

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I love good looking covers but I’m not someone who reads or buys books just based on how they look. But I can’t deny that some of them are amazing to look at, so when I saw this tag about dreamy covers done by Jack @ Jack’s Bedtime Reading, I wante to give it a try as well. Please do checkout Jack’s blog for more amazing and fun bookish content.

Rules:

Thank the lovely person who tagged you, spread the love!

Mention Tiana at The Book Raven as the creator of this book tag!

Use the original tag image in your post. (However, feel free to add whatever other graphics your heart desires!)

Tag at least 1 fellow blogger for this tag.

List the rules

No Ideas but in Things:

A book cover that perfectly expresses the novel inside it

This cover is lovely and really tells us that the book is going to be about a happy desi girl who just happens to be fat. And reading There’s Something About Sweetie was such a joyful experience.

Dark and Lovely:

A book cover that is so creepalicious you just want to eat it up

Neither am I gonna eat it up nor am I ever buying this book because it truly looks creepy af.

Sugary Sweet:

A cute cover that is so fluffy you want to give it a hug

This is probably the cutest cover of last year (for me) and I could totally give it a hug… or eat that delicious cake and drink up that lovely looking latte.

The Simple Aesthetic:

A book cover that stuns with the most minimalistic of design

I love how this cover just has a torn page with a hand coming out of it, but manages to tell us so much about the premise of the book.

Cover Envy:

A book cover you wish you had on your shelves, but don’t yet

I wish I had these Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom collector’s editions already, but they are too damn expensive and I don’t know when I will get them.

Travelling Abroad:

A book cover featuring a country outside of your own

Well.. most of the books I read happen to take place outside of India (and in the US), so I decided to feature The Lost Vintage because it showcases the beautiful vineyards of Burgundy.

The Colour Wheel:

A cover that showcases one of your favourite colours

Black and Red are my favorite colors and I love their combination even more, so this one is just straight out of my dreams.

Switching Gears:

A cover change you absolutely adore

I find that the new cover of Vicious is gorgeous because it has my favorite colors and it also probably reflects the content better.

Oldie but Goodie:

A favorite cover of your favorite classic

Pride and Prejudice has lots of amazing covers but this is one of my favorites. It’s just so beautiful and colorful, and I would love to buy it someday.

And the Winner is…

Which book cover mentioned��above is your favourite?

My favorites have to be SoC and CK collector’s editions. They are just too beautiful looking and will brighten up any bookshelf.

I Tag:

Denia || Siobhan || Dany || Amy || Elysa

Dreamy Covers Book Tag I love good looking covers but I'm not someone who reads or buys books just based on how they look.

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passportrequired · 6 years ago

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A Valentine Cheer in Europe

I decided on a solo Europe trip because I wanted to do what I CAN’T call Eat Pray Love BECAUSE I still have yet to watch this movie. However, after the senseless murder of my niece on Valentine’s Day a couple years prior and my mom’s lost to a battle with cancer a year after, I figured V-Day needed some coloring.

I decided on a flight to Istanbul that would transfer to Milan and then EasyJet from Milan to Paris and then to Barcelona and back to Milan and jump back on Turkish airlines to Istanbul and finally home to Dulles.

When I told my family I was heading to Europe alone, they asked if I didn’t see the movie Taken. I told them no one is taking a big boned black girl. What I was really saying is no one will stop me from traveling solo in search of a valentine cheer.

My niece was stabbed over 20 times. The guy got 60 to life. But how do I look at Valentine’s Day the same? My mom cried. The next year she died. She chose not to do the 50 to 50 chance surgery. I wrestled with that. Why did she choose to die and not to fight? But I realized now she wanted to go on HER terms. Death is something that the living has to deal with. We are left to grieve and miss and yearn.

My trip was to live like they had not. Do things that they couldn’t…

I arrived in Istanbul on a six-hour layover. When I touched down on the tarmac, I remember thinking it looks just like the hallmark card my friend had given me for my birthday in January. I started my EAT’ing. Opened faced smoked salmon sandwich with eggs sunny side up. Delectable for airport food. I pictured my niece Tiana and my mom Valeria sitting across from me. Enjoying. Complaining about the runny eggs. Laughing and ready to explore our first leg of the trip.

The Coconut Curry Chicken (or Shrimp). INGREDIENTS: Organic Chicken from Whole Foods or bag of shrimp from Trader Joes. Trio pepper, red onions, scallion, thyme, habanero skin, garlic, turmeric, paprika, ground cayenne (optional, but good for spicing up your life), black pepper, sea salt (or salt), Basil (fresh or dry), one canned Trader Joe’s organic coconut milk, olive oil, one small sweet potato or Irish (russet) potato. Add olive oil to pan with fresh and dry seasonings. Stir on high heat and add canned coconut milk. Add peeled and cut (tiny pieces) of potato to pot. Let it boil on medium for 30-45 minutes until desired taste. If using shrimp, add shrimp at end and let cook for 15-30 mins until desired taste of shrimp and sauce. If using chicken, add chicken to beginning prior to adding coconut milk. Once cooked, enjoy over bed of Whole Foods basmati or Trader Joe’s jasmine rice OR with some fresh naan.

The Rice. INGREDIENTS: Basmati white or brown rice OR jasmine white or brown rice. Irish / Icelandic butter or olive oil. Sea Salt. Place rice in pot with one-inch water above rice level (use finger tips to judge), stir in salt and butter or olive oil. Cover rice and let come to a boil on high fire setting. As soon as it boils over, turn fire on lowest setting and let sit for 30 minutes then turn stove off.

My mom probably made curry differently. But I added my twist. Let the EAT’ing begin.

ENJOY.

I people watched in that Istanbul airport until I cracked myself up. A couple smooching, others rushing. I wonder where they are heading. Maybe they are off to someplace romantic. To celebrate. An engagement or an anniversary or maybe it’s new love or young love. Perhaps the Maldives or Fiji. I made up stories about strangers and laughed with my mom and Tiana until it was my turn to head someplace. Milan in particular.

Industrial and not what I expected. I used to read my sister’s romance magazines. Soap opera in a book. Lancio published them. Those cute Italian boys were in Milan. I figured I would find cheer there. But instead I found the Duomo. When I walked inside, a feeling came over me. Like God had reached out and grabbed my soul, telling me it’s okay. I know you lost your sister, Brenda years earlier to a routine knee surgery. I know Kenneth, Nicole and Dwight are gone too and I know you lost mama (grandma) and Lattie and more recently, your sister, Luna, niece Tiana and mommy, Valeria. But I’m here now. It was either that or a memory of a Catholic Church in Morant Bay, Jamaica. Either way, something inside the Duomo moved me. I felt it and I sat on the church bench, PRAYed and made the sign of the cross against my chest. A sign you couldn’t forget even if you left the church behind.

I could hear Ave Maria in my head. Maria Ferrante singing by Franz Shubert. I have it on my playlist. “Ave maria, äiti maan lapsien, taas meihin katsoo suojellen, kun poika syntymäpäivä on…” I sat in the church and quietly recited, “Hail Mary full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.” I used to hear my dad praying this prayer often. How many Hail Marys do you need to cleanse your soul of its sins? I didn’t want to imagine the sins of my father.

I walked out of the Duomo and took a long trek back to my hotel room. Quietly. I felt my mom and Tiana on the walk back. It wasn’t creepy. It was all LOVE.

Prior to the Duomo I took some photos of the church from the Museo Del Novecento. Museums give me a sense of peace. Perhaps because it’s a quiet observance. No need to discuss in the moment. Just observe and soak it in.

I felt snow on me and knew something was brewing. Later, I was stuck at the airport. EasyJet put us up near the airport with food vouchers and free hotel. I almost got rerouted to Germany. I didn’t take it. I stayed in Milan. Stuck in the hotel room and eating breakfast, lunch and dinner with complete strangers. I had to walk a scary dark walk for dinner. I chatted with some of the strangers so I didn’t have to walk the dinner walk alone. No dinner was served in my hotel. When I couldn’t find a stranger, I said a few Hail Marys and walked the walk to have decent Italian food and frizzante. Every time I tried to have a croissant it was filled with something. I don’t like fillings, but Europeans do. I do; however, like cappuccinos and I had good coffee there. I decided to write and think while waiting for the snow to clear. Two days later I ended up at Charles de Gaulle and got to my hotel a few minutes before midnight. My flight for Barcelona was leaving the next morning.

I arrived at the Le Meridien bummed that I wouldn’t see Paris. But my friend, Jessica from Scotland had been there waiting for me. She had already gotten a chance to see it and decided to give me the midnight tour. I tucked mommy and Tiana away and me and Jessica walked the streets. On our walk I saw a prostitute on the side of the street down on her knees with a client. Paris is gangsta. I watched the Eiffel tower’s lights go dim and I took pictures at the Arc de Triomphe.

I wanted to be up close and personal but not on this trip. The chef opened the kitchen to serve me creme brûlée. I talked with Jess and ate the best creme brûlée I’d ever tasted. If only I had gotten to go out and about, I’m sure there’s better crème brûlée in a small Parisian bakery. We decided to forego sleep. I hadn’t seen Jessica in years. It was good to see her and touch her and talk with her. We had so much to talk about. We didn’t let the sleep in our eyes stop us. We talked and talked and talked and talked. I grabbed a quick breakfast and hugged Jess goodbye. I was going back to solo’ing in Barcelona.

No plane issues this time. I waited for my flight and met two Parisian girls who thought it was cool I was on a solo trip and from America. We chatted and laughed and swapped stories. I thought Parisians were snobby. Not these two. Friendly and sweet. We took pictures and said a proper goodbye.

I arrived in Barcelona and in LOVE. I couldn’t stop staring out the window of my transport on the way to the hotel. Another Le Meridien hotel. Thanks to my sister Colleen’s discounts. I was on a budget in a fantastic Starwood hotel. It was in the midst of La Rambla. I didn’t waste a minute in Barcelona. I took to the streets and spoke as much Spanish as I could remember. I ate a burger and fries and drank local beer in a small friendly bar. After beer two I packed up and went to an art museum where the guard asked for my hand in marriage. I laughed and continued my quiet observance of the Barcelona Museum of Contemporary Art.

That night I watched a Spanish jazz singer over dinner. I had a chance to meet and chat with her. She flirted and I blushed. I told her I’m straight and kissed her on the cheek. My valentine cheer was coming in little packages. I imagined Tiana in full Spanish mode. Her mom, Kathy is Puerto Rican. She was enjoying Barcelona. Swinging her hips and trying to teach me salsa and mommy laughing. When she was younger her favorite thing from grandma was Jamaican fried dumplings. My mom made it so good. I wasn’t yet there in America. But when I came, she was older. I met her and she still wanted fried dumplings from grandma. Had there been fried dumplings in Barcelona I would have had some just for her.

My best friend Misha loves this soup. She had been asking for the recipe for years. I told her I didn’t know how to write recipes. But this one, you can EAT with LOVE. Just don’t forget to PRAY before you eat. Wait don’t we drink soup. Yeah, but don’t mess with my EAT, PRAY, LOVE vibe. I think that was Tiana correcting me. I’m sure it was actually.

One canned coconut milk. More coconut milk. It reminds me of the million ways my mom used coconut. Curry Rundown: made from freshly grated and squeezed coconut juice (milk). Rendered down to base of almost oil with Saltfish inside (boiled and strained of all salt). Serve with fried or boiled dumplings. Coconut Cake: made from the coconut trash (grated) with sugar and fit for a dessert. OR coconut diced into tiny pieces, again with sugar. Another dessert, same name. Wait that’s not the soup.

Soup With No Name: INGREDIENTS: one canned Organic Trader Joe’s coconut milk. If you have time on your hands, go to the Asian market, buy a coconut, grate, squeeze and make fresh coconut milk. Sweet potatoes, bok Choy, spinach, white beans, Grace Cock Soup packet (best to put it in at the end, not sure why, this is just what Jamaicans do. Cho, stop yuh noise mek mi cook nuh). Trio pepper, red onions, scallion, thyme, habanero skin (the seeds are too hot), garlic, turmeric, paprika, cayenne (NOT optional, spice up your life), black pepper, sea salt (or salt), Basil (fresh or dry). Add water to a big pot and coconut milk and all dry seasonings. Go light on turmeric. It’s just cause I love the yellow color for this soup. Add scallion, garlic, onion and thyme along with trio pepper and habanero. Boil for 30-45 minutes. Add chopped bok choy, whole spinach (nuh chop it up mahn) and sweet potatoes (cut up in cubes). Add seafood mix and Grace Cock Soup. If using chicken add in the beginning with coconut milk. Taste. Add sea salt if additional is needed. Serve hot. PRAY.

ENJOY.

There was an ice cream truck outside the hotel. I had Nutella and vanilla swirl and chatted with the ice-cream guy. I can’t remember his name. He was sweet. Super nice and the ice-cream was great. Europe loves Nutella.

The next day I spotted a robbery as I was about to jump on the metro. I stood and watched. Three men with sheets over their shoulders running. Filled with clothes from a nearby department store. The cops showed up and jumped out the car and ran after them. Why oh why didn’t they drive after them? They didn’t catch them. Barcelona is also gangsta. My sister Michelle would worry if I told her about the gangsta shit. She was the one who asked me if I didn’t watch Taken. I bought little gifts from different places. I was on some street I can’t remember. I wondered if anyone noticed I was alone or could they see mommy and Tiana?

I arrived in Milan on my last leg. I had taken risks and seen things that made me realize solo travel is better. You get to notice every stranger. You meet people from all over and you really connect without distractions. I wrote, I thought, I laughed, I cried and I imagined I had my eat, pray, love moments. I still have to watch that movie.

On my way back to the airport I decided to ride the train from Milan. I lugged my heavy ass suitcase and got confused about which train to take and how to buy my ticket when a stranger rescued me. Though I didn’t need rescuing, this man was seeing me as a damsel in distress. His name eludes me, but he was from Georgia. No not Georgia USofA but the country. He showed me how to buy my ticket, lugged my suitcase on the train and sat next to me. Maybe for protection. He shared stories of his childhood in Georgia. And I equally of Jamaica. We laughed and talked and parted ways in Malpensa. I felt a little guilt that I forgot about mommy and Tiana.

I made my way to Istanbul and then touched down on the tarmac in Dulles. As I rode the transport back to Rockville, I couldn’t stop thinking about my trip. All the details, the quiet moments, the conversations. But mainly I felt I got just what I went looking for. I see now that today – on V-day, there’s more to remember. Not the tragedy of loss, but great memories and positive light. Not the blackness the man doing 60 years to life tried to give us. But the light that was left behind to shine.

“Alvin, I know today is a tough day but Tiana was very brave even though she knew she wouldn’t make it, she made sure the Devil got caught… so Live, Love and Laugh on her memories. Happy Tiana Notice Day.” – Colleen Burgher.

“To my family, each and every Valentine’s day my heart is torn apart. However, I have to come to the fact that life must go on and Tiana’s memories will forever live on. With that said, tonight at 9:42 pm please stop what you are doing and give a moment of silence to Tiana Angelique Notice. Tiana’s work will never be done, may her soul R.I.P.” – Alvin Notice (father of Tiana and my brother).

“A moment of silence for our dear Tiana. Love always. ♥” – Marceen A. Burgher

para mi madre y mi querida sobrina dulce – from Barcelona with love.

per mia madre e mia cara dolce nipote – from Milan with love.

pour ma mère et ma chère douce nièce – from Paris with love.

annem ve sevgili yeğenim için – from Istanbul with love.

…for my mother and my dear sweet niece – from Dulles with love.

– Marceen A. Burgher

A Valentine Cheer in Europe was originally published on Passport Required

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