#kind of thought of the design myself then worked on it yesterday morning till i liked it

[kimcheolwoon]

.

[lemons3ason]

SK8 THE INFINITY (Late Valentines Special Headcannon

(A/n: I HAVE BECOME A SLUT FOR THIS SERIES SK8 THE INFINITY GIVES ME SO MUCH LIFE EVEN THOUGH ITS STILL SO NEW! DIDNT HAVE TIME YESTERDAY SO HERES THE LATE VALENTINES SPECIAL WITH THE MAINS FROM SK8 THE INFINITY)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Langa Hasegawa

-Sweet clueless child is a complete idiot when it comes to love and to make it worse you’re dense to his advances.

-Met you at school with Reki and would try to be as close to you as possible, letting you borrow his board so he could enjoy your smile as you skated.

-Due to personal reasons you were extremely touch starved and Langa was more then willing to hug you all day long but he’d find himself staring at your lips in want.

-Once Valentines came around he felt like finally confessing to you despite the holiday being a total cliche.

-Decided to make you chocolates, unfortunately he kept burning the batches so he had to ask his mom for help which resulted in her finding out about you.

-Wrote a message on the chocolates himself despite his terrible penmanship and hoped you would appreciate it and accept him.

-Almost forgets the chocolates the next day since he overslept and was late for school, wishes you a good morning over texts and asks you to meet him at the front gates to talk to you.

-Was bombarded by fan girls at school that wanted to give him gifts and found himself bumping into someone, just so happened to be you, but he realizes that he knocked something out of your hands and it got crushed under another girls foot.

-For the first time ever he actually saw your face pale and tears prick the corner of your (e/c) hues, he growled under his breathe shouting at everyone to leave as he wrapped his arms around you.

-You didn’t hug him back, you just silently cried somehow not making a sound and he sighed seeing you upset.

-“I’m sorry they crushed your gift, were you giving it to someone?”, he tried to hide the jealousy in his voice as he wiped away your tears.

-You nodded your head before explaining that they were meant for him. He blushed of course but a goofy grin plastered itself on his face as he cupped your cheeks and slammed a kiss against your sweet warm lips.

-He pulled away leaving you a stuttering mess as he presented you his little pink gift box. You took it and opened it giggling at what he had wrote, “We’re already friends Langa.”, you giggled showing him his incorrect kanji.

-“N-no I-I meant boyfriend, can I be your boyfriend pretty please?”, he begged as if he still had no chance with you.

-You giggled and smiled again before cupping his cheeks and returning his sweet kiss from before. Successful Valentines Confession.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reki Kyan

-Y’all already been dating but this was your first Valentines together so he wanted to make it special.

-“Gotta head to work bye Reki.”, you hummed kissing his lips sweetly before you skated away on your board.

-He smiled watching you disappear into the sunset but once you were out of sight he bolted the rest of the way home.

-He’s not your ordinary guy and he loves skateboarding so he wanted to protray his feelings for skateboarding and you into his next project.

-Stayed up day and night in order to finish it and rushed to your house Valentines morning to spend the day with you before he presented your gift to you.

-Treated you to your favorite ice cream shop and a shopping spree at the plush store where you excitedly bought all the cute anime and animal plushes you had been dying for.

-You presented his gift to him around noon by taking him to a very special skateboard shop that your dad owned, he got first dibs at all the latest equipment and parts he needed for future projects and you couldn’t help smiling as he gasped at your father for letting him keep everything he had picked out and wanted.

-Your dad dropped you both off at Reki’s house in a pick up truck since Reki and gotten so much and helped unload it while you went in to greet his mother and sisters.

-He ran to his garage to get your gift but started getting nervous thinking that you wouldn’t like it.

-“S-she’ll like it I know she will. (Y/n)’s always spoiling me so this will pay her back for being so wonderful to me.”, he thought hugging the board tight to his chest as he ran back in to see you.

-“H-hey (Y/n), can you come here for a sec?”

-He could hear you running towards him and smiled nervously as he hid the board behind his back.

-Has you close your eyes and places the board deck side down in your arms so you can see the custom design he made for you on the back.

-You absolutely screech in joy seeing the new board in your arms, you couldn’t believe it was actually yours. Reki has to grab you by the cheeks hold you in place and tell you it was yours like five times just for you to believe him.

-You can’t help but throw yourself against him to hug him and kiss his pudgy face all over while chanting ‘I love you’ over and over again.

-He’s so happy you like your new board, he’s so overwhelmed by your affection but he absolutely adores you and kisses you one more time before dragging you off to his room for a movie and cuddles.

-A dorky sweetheart you can’t tell me otherwise.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Miya Chinen

-YOU ARE VIDEO GAME BUDDIES!

-Met during an online gaming tournament, you actually beat him, you became rivals for each other.

-When you both met in real life he absolutely adored you, sweet, kind, outgoing, and obviously taller than him, he couldn’t help the blush that rose to his face upon meeting you.

-You two were a match made in heaven but he couldn’t bring himself to confess to you no matter how hard he tried and then he found out you had a crush on a boy from your school.

-Helps you shop for the perfect gift for your crush despite it breaking his heart and finds himself still buying you something in hopes of confessing to you first.

-Has a little Bunny plush holding a single sunflower in its arms in his room since he couldn’t bring himself to confess to you the day of Valentines.

-Doesn’t hear from you about your confession until the day after when your both playing online against each other.

-“Come on (Y/n), you could’ve easily deflected that! Don’t become a slime on me now player two.”, Miya yells into his mic regretting it immediately when he hears you sigh.

-“Sorry Miya I’m just not feeling it tonight, I’m gonna go to bed see ya later.”

-Your sad he can tell instantly from the sound of your voice, calls you on the phone to demand an explanation on why your sad and you burst into tears on the other side.

-“S-sorry...hkk...i-it’s just that I let myself get played. I got heartbroken yesterday by the guy I liked and I realized that I’m pretty much a weirdo that no one wants to be with. He laughed at me and tossed my gift out the third story window of the school and walked away with a prettier girl in his arms.”

-You don’t hear anything from Miya and sigh hearing the call end unbeknownst to you Miya was skating his way to your house as fast as he could to comfort you, his Valentines gift in his arms.

-You jump when you hearing tapping on your window and watch as Miya sneaks in with a little rabbit in his arms.

-“Then be my weirdo! Stay by my side and we can be weirdos together, you don’t need that slime ball when I wanna be the grand knight that protects my princess!”, Miya screamed extending the gift to you in hopes that you would accept his feelings.

-He feels the rabbit leave his hands and opens his eyes to see you smiling through your tears, he kinda panics and wipes away your tears with his sleeves and just holds you.

-He presses his for head against yours and sighs, “You don’t have to answer right now it’s just that...I-I umm...I want to be the Link to your Zelda i-if you know what I mean.”

-You giggle and hug him thanking him for his kind words and softly whisper, “I love you, Miya, and thank you.”, into his ear making him smile against your shoulder.

-Sweet baby boy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kaoru Sakurashiki

-This dipshit works Valentine’s Day and forgets about it due to all the orders for custom calligraphy messages for couples.

-Annoyed by all the sappy messages and honestly putting half his effort in any of them.

-Forgets he has an interview that day until he hears a knock at his office door and you nervously enter.

-His heart races seeing you for the first time, you look so adorable in your business casual outfit, and your nervous smile has him falling over himself.

-“H-hello my name is (L/n) (F/n), I-it’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Sakurashiki.”

-“She’s beautiful like a cherry blossom.”, he thought to himself.

-Overall the interview goes great, you’re just a year younger then him looking for a new job to pay for your new home.

-Loves you a lot and asks you to start immediately as his new secretary, you accept and start getting right to work. Eventually he notices you running around in your socks since your feet were hurting from the heels.

-Treats you to dinner once the shop is closed to welcome you to the team and falls in love with you more as you talk more about yourself.

-You are playful but still you have a calm and collected mind something he admires greatly.

-Waits till next Valentines to properly confess to you since he found it extremely hard to put his feelings into words.

-You surprisingly accept and he treats you to a rooftop diner where you both share a sweet dance under the moonlight.

-Dubs you his Blossom and spoils you with sweet gestures and shy kisses until he’s confident enough to kiss you properly.

-Laughs when he finds out you are jealous of Carla (his skateboard), you fume and decide to race him at S which shocks him because he didn’t know you could even skate.

-Absolutely loses it seeing you in your S wardrobe, a rather revealing kunoichi styled outfit that showed all the right parts leaving him wanting more.

-“Well Cherry Blossom let’s see what you can do.”, you smirked behind your fox mask.

-You end up slaughtering him in the race just from pure skill alone, Karla couldn’t keep up with your calculations and you won by a landslide.

-Gets jealous of the fan boys that suddenly accumulate over you once the race is finish, takes off both of your masks so he can kiss you silly.

“I won jealous cherry.”

“Shut up and kiss me little blossom.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kojiro Nanjo

-This large himbo had a whole plan to make you extremely jealous by flirting with other women until you were furious with him before surprising you with a special hotel room that he rented out for just the two of you for Valentines.

-Unfortunately he was unaware of some bullying and self esteem issues you were having because of work so you patience with him dried out fast.

-“Huh baby cakes what’s the mat-“

-“If they’re so pretty why don’t you just stay with them instead of someone useless and ugly like me!”

-Regrets everything he said as soon as he sees you running away in tears, ditches the fans immediately and skates off to find you but you’re already long gone.

-Calls Cherry who has you weeping in his arms and groans as his old friend starts scolding him for being a ‘Heartless Dumbass Gorilla’.

-Hugs you as soon as he sees you practically tackling you and Cherry in the process and begs for your forgiveness.

-You pout and refuse to forgive him which in turn makes him sigh, he scoops you up in his arms and tosses you over his shoulder to carry you away despite your protest and skates off to the hotel.

-“I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you, I wanted to make you jealous and then spoil you rotten. This wasn’t how I wanted today but if you’ll let me I’d still like to spoil you and make it up to you.”, Joe admits in a soft voice.

-You agree hesitantly and he puts you down, cups your face, and presses a tender kiss against your plump lips. Smiles against your lips when he feels your cheeks heat up.

-Takes you to the hotel, chuckles at your shocked expression to the huge lavish room and invites you for champagne in the jacuzzi.

-Leans you against his chest and wraps an arm around your waist, whispers sweet compliments and praises into your ear until a goofy smile is plastered over your face.

-Smothers you in kisses and cuddles even if you playfully try to escape his strong arms.

-Watches sappy movies with you and holds you tightly until your glowing with joy. Kisses you good night as he snuggles his head into your adorable chest and happily nods off to sleep as you play with his curly green hair.

“Happy Valentine’s Day love, I’m sorry and thank you for today beautiful.”, Joe hums kissing your cleavage sweetly.

“I’m sorry I ruined your surprise, thank you handsome.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hiromi Higa

-Meets you the 13th when you come in to buy flowers, there’s such a sad aura about you that he can’t help but gift you a fresh pink rose that brings a sweet smile to your face.

-Instantly falls for you as you ask for an arrangement to take to a funeral of a dear friend.

-Makes you a beautiful arrangement himself and let’s you take it free of charge despite your argument to pay.

-“Just try to be happy for me and that’s enough, you look beautiful when you smile.”, he simply says making a blush roll across your face.

-As nightfall hits the city he dawns his Shadow look for S and starts heading over but he stops after hearing a scream and finds you being attacked by a small group of idiots.

-Instantly picks a fight with them in order to defend you and wins just from knocking one out with a single punch and scaring the others away with a glare.

-Sees you trembling on the floor with a hand covering your left arm and sighs seeing the blood, you had been slashed by one of their blades so he carefully wraps it with an extra cloth that he had and picks you up carrying you to the train station.

-“Stay safe little flower, I won’t always be able to save you.”, he grins at you making you blush for some strange reason.

-“T-thank you for saving me.”

-He smiles at you and leans forward leaving a purple lipstick mark on your cheek as he disappears from sight.

-He skates his best that night at S while thinking of you.

-You appear again in the flower shop the next day, a bandage wrapped around your arm and a shy smile on your face as you walk up to him.

-He’s surprised to see you again so soon and prays that you didn’t recognize him from last night.

-You smile and press a kiss to his cheek, leaving a red stain on his cheek that has his face flaming up in embarrassment.

-You hand him back his cloth and a note and rush out of the store while shouting, “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

“H-huh well seems she did notice m-ehh... i-is this her phone number?”

[thevividgreenmoss]

My grandfather was awake and lucid for a longish while between late Friday night and Saturday morning apparently first time since this past Sunday when we all thought that was It and crammed ourselves seven people in one sedan that got a flat on the way over of course (as we were leaving the handle of the screen door came off in my hand as I was closing it behind me so the vibe was very on the nose things farcically falling apart that whole goddamn day lol) but then when we made it he was smiling and laughing and talking to and teasing everyone that was there, albeit with much more effort than it would have taken him even just a week earlier when he was already in a really frail state because of his hip surgery. My sister happened to be up later than she usually ever is and got to video call and chat with him for a bit I wanted terribly for my cousin in Colorado to be able to also but by the time he could get through my grandpa's blood pressure had suddenly spiked or something and he'd drifted back into that borderline unconscious state so they didn't get a chance to talk which makes me want to claw my fucking skin off of my face but who knows maybe another opportunity will present itself hopefully it does like he suddenly became really talkative and energized the other day after not having said more than maybe a couple sentences over the few previous days like I was there with him for several hours on Thursday and the entire time he didn't say a word and only opened his eyes once for like half a second and even that I might have been imagining after sitting there sleep-deprived and holding his hand trying not to cry because then my mom would start crying and then my aunt and on and on and if he's conscious at that point he'll start to get worried and his heart rate will destabilize but after that for this one stretch without anyone expecting it he was really talkative and alert and joking around with the nurses and doctors and all that for a while but then later yesterday afternoon he started to get disoriented and drift in and out of the present in between dreaming and waking again at one point apparently he kept saying 'look at my shoes' to my mom and her sisters and they thought it was just just the medication/pain-induced delirium talking but he kept insisting and eventually said 'you're not taking me seriously' and I guess gave up? Or said it a few more times I'm not clear on the course of events I only heard all this secondhand when my younger aunt, who also got diagnosed with cancer late last year but thankfully is more or less in the clear now, got back home last night and she and I went into his room and took all the shoes out of the cabinet he keeps them in and like looked inside and turned over and examined the soles of every pair, took the cushion insert things out of the ones that had them, checked for scooby doo-esque hidden doors, all that but there was nothing there just shoes. Her kids flew back out yesterday morning, the older one's tentatively returning to Toronto in the next week or so she had a painfully rough time in some ways her first couple of years and then abruptly had to be uprooted and leave because of covid then everything with her mom and in time honored eldest daughter tradition bearing the brunt of the familial frustration and insanity associated with that and now everything with our grandpa I really really want her senior year to go smoothly and be enjoyable and memorable in a manner opposite to how this past year+ has been I'm so worried about her and her little sister's starting freshman year there in the fall and I'm terribly worried about her in a whole different way like she's still really attached to her parents in this innocent way that still strongly resembles like a baby's adoring my mom hung the moon type attachment and it can be especially hard being away for the first time ever when that's the case...like she's hyper hypersensitive even by my family's standards lmao but she does have this sort of self-possession and inner groundedness that no one can quite pin down but it's

definitely there and maybe that

could carry her through I really hope so...they were saying to come up to visit them in the fall hopefully I can find a job soon after returning to Texas and like be able to afford to do that and also like keep paying the bills and shit lol in either case I hope so so badly that they'll be okay like I think they will be the women in my family are all really strong but they've also had to be because of various fucked circumstances and I don't want that to keep having to be the case...my grandpa's a Strong Woman in a certain way also honestly lmao like my mom's aunts have always been like your father raised you in a way beyond even most mothers which like who fucking receives let alone genuinely deserves that kind of praise from their in-laws lmao let alone a man from a notoriously patriarchal culture of a generation when fathers from any culture barely had any involvement in their children's upbringing at all which I mean most still don't but even more so back then and like literally everyone we've been hearing from or seeing drop by at the hospital has a story of how at one point or another my grandpa was there for them when no one else was like distant cousins variously removed and loose family friends all with something about how he comforted me when no one else could, I remember word for word what he said to me when I suffered some loss of my own, he's the strongest man in our family, the best times we ever had were when he was near us, when he'd take us out, his youngest brother's children saying he cared for and spoiled them as if their were his own after their dad died suddenly when they were just kids, my mom's third cousin whose own father was with her till a late age saying that he was even more of a father to me than my own father, his other brother's son who was ostracized for decades by his immediate family on some straight up racist ass bullshit on the part of his mom and older brother because he married a black woman but my grandpa stayed in touch and made sure my mom and uncle did as well and made sure we all got together when he'd came to the states, like even now lying there on what very well might be his literal deathbed when he can barely talk he was telling my uncle he's worried about him and he needs to go home and rest, asking who's taking care of the house, are the kids all okay even at this point his thoughts are for others. After I put his shoes back in the cabinet I closed it and opened the one beside just in case I guess just in case what I don't know but it was just like standard cabinet stuff clothes a shaving kit and a couple of what I assume are photo albums that I didn't feel like I should open for some reason and a few old books, a collection of Ghalib's which I can't really read very easily if at all because it's in Urdu lol, a history of government college of Lahore where his father was teaching at the time of his death and the two philosophy textbooks my great grandfather had written himself, Inductive & Deductive Reasoning, and inside the latter I found a handful of yellowed pages torn out of an old notebook upon which mostly seem to be translations of french poems and I think maybe a song or two? I guess old coursework or just for funsies I'm not sure whether written by my grandfather or his own father. My khala was mentioning just the other day that she'd kept one of my grandpa's old notebooks marked as having been designated for biology but inside it were no actual notes just urdu poetry which she wasn't sure whether it was his own original tossed off work or something the lifelong frustrated creative transcribed while bored in class. The night I got here I was looking through his bookshelves after everyone had gone to bed and then a couple of weeks ago I was sitting in the living room by myself watching archer when my cousin came and sat down next to me upset and unable to sleep on her own first night here and I held her and tried not to cry and then went through the same bookshelves again, this time with my cousin who we came to Pakistan for the first time after moving to the US

to see being born who turned three

the day we arrived on what until this current trip was the last time I was here her little sister having just been born earlier that same year (whose life I may or may not have saved when I caught her after she was dropped by the person holding her (the fact that (parentheticals within parentheticals!) I may or may not have been the one who dropped her in the first place is immaterial imo not that I'm the one on trial here but what's important is that I caught her and if anything this would be an even more athletically impressive and frankly heroic incident if I'd been the one that was holding her to begin with since I was 8/9 years old at the time and there wasn't much of a distance for her to fall and yet I kept her from hitting the ground like talk about reflexes like that's what's important and what's more important than even that @ my year older cousin (whose younger sister was the first baby in the family after myself whose arrival in this world when I was three had me positively giddy in the way that young children get when witnessing the miracle of even younger children, who's the only other one of the cousins that's been here during all this, just me and the three I got to see as darling little babies) who was the only other person in the room with me at the time, is that we take this to our fucking graves no one can hear a word of this least of all any adults in the house who like not that they're the ones on trial here either but like who allowed for this scenario to transpire in the first place where two children and an infant are in a room by themselves unsupervised in retrospect that's somewhat irresponsible not that I'd ever hold it against them or even mention it because then they might get mad and not let me hold my little cousin anymore and I do love holding my little baby cousin and carrying her around everywhere, mostly without incident)) neither of whom I'd see in person again until we visited them in Canada the summer after I graduated college the trip during which I finished the last of the Neapolitan novels the day after landing and turned 22 the day after their mother, my younger khala, turned 43, looking through my nana's bookshelves with my baby cousin no longer a baby but a U of T classics major entering her senior year, noting the overlaps with our own, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, George Eliot, the same exact copies of Cheever and Kafka's collected shorts, Umberto Eco, Proust, wondering what the various titles meant to him or what they might say about him, wondering how much of even the version of him that can be hypothesized based off his library I'm missing now that I'm limited to the much reduced version of what had been in his old home in Lahore (when he visited us after my junior year of hs and my mom was trying to convince him to downsize and move in with my other aunt with whom he's been living the past several years, the one who most resembles my grandfather the only one that has his cheekbones my khala whose eyes have sunken all the way into her skull before my eyes with exhaustion and grief over the past two weeks, when my mom was like what's the point of just hanging onto a bunch of books that you've already read: I look at them [dramatic pause], and I feel happy [my mom sighing equally dramatically in.exasperation, me cracking up in the background]) the city I was born in the house where I spent the first almost five years of my life before we moved to the US to join my dad who'd moved back shortly after my mom became pregnant with what turned out to be me, abu nana's house with the garden we'd walk through every morning holding his hand and following along as he puttered around with his plants in the garden in the house in the city he had to leave to move into my khala's house in Islamabad where I've been the past almost a month now where two weeks ago he suddenly came down with pneumonia and had to be dragged to a hospital in Rawalpindi where he's been since, not in his house, my nana's house, with the garden in the city I haven't seen since the last time I was in this country the

summer I

turned nine the day after my khala turned 30 the day before my other khala turned 32(?) the summer I first remember obsessive compulsive disorder becoming an overwhelming aspect of my consciousness although it was there before, the first summer of the Iraq war and being terrified watching the Iraq war unfold on the BBC evening news my nana would turn on

at dinner time and hearing for the first time or maybe just the first time I remember the night we left the phrase 'the rich will get richer and the poor will get poorer' from my younger khala talking to her sisters and some family friends that had come over to see us off feeling terrified and cold then embarrassed because she noticed my face visibly fall from across the room and told my mom and I was like godammit everyone knows I'm scared now smhead then crying the entire flight back home because I missed everyone and maybe had a little kid premonition that I wouldn't return to my nana's house and I would be years and years till I saw any of them again some I still haven't or maybe there was nothing premonitory about it but in either case that's the way it turned out. I do feel grateful I got to see him again at all, when he last came to the US late 2016-early 2017 I was sure it would be the last time we would be in the same room. I'd make breakfast for us every morning and we'd eat together and the entire day I'd sit next to him inhaling secondhand smoke and talking and reading. I was in the midst of my initial aborted attempt to read Swann's way when he arrived. I'd gotten to Guermantes way last summer but I couldn't find a secondhand copy so I had to read it via ebook and that didn't feel right so I abandoned it until now I've been reading a copy pulled from his bookshelf. Last he visited was the first time I learned we were both Garcia Marquez-heads which I'd kind of assumed before and I showed him Mad Men which he heavily fucked with and also every John Le Carre adaptation I could track down online. From the first time I read one hundred years of solitude the summer after freshman year of college the passage describing Colonel Aureliano Buendia's death already absolutely and unbearably heartwrenching enough immediately brought thoughts of my grandfather, aching aching sorrow over the solitude that he himself existed within in all the fucking pain his life has been inordinately filled with grief over the knowledge of this inevitable final separation from him after so many years and so much distance already having separated him from the people he loved and cared for and he loved and cared for so many people so deeply with such sincerity and beauty and endless endless warmth and compassion and humor when Gabo wrote of the colonel trying to reach back through to his memories and being unable to after previously recalling that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice even years later, as he faced the firing squad, at the moment of his death like a 'baby chick' my poor frail beautiful grandfather appearing exactly the same way when he'd take off his dentures and curl over to the side to sleep, then when awake but still half asleep hearing your voice having brought his apple cider vinegar and garlic concoction or a cup of tea or just coming by to hold his hand or play with his beard the way all of his grandchildren have at one point or another and smiling with his eyes still closed smiling bright and wide the expression of a precious little cat purring as you scratch under its chin always the most beautiful smile and even as his hair turned white and his body withered and wrinkled and shrunk his cheekbones while still not bad long ago ceased being the way they were in that picture from his wedding day back when he he looked like young Robert De Niro's much much prettier Kashmiri cousin from then until now always that same radiance and those same quick-witted and kind and bright bright bright sparkling eyes. The past month and a half I've been feeling like I'm seeing my own mother dying before my eyes along with her father, my adorable beloved abu nana, I can't even begin to comprehend how she must be feeling right now I feel like I'm witnessing her death in advance through all of this and losing the part of her that is him even though I know that's not actually the case. Things have been so fucking painful and complicated between us but the one thing we've shared that's never

been painful is our love for him. When he left after his last visit four years ago I spent the next two days barely able to even talk. Compliments or like any positive comments directed in my directions have almost always caused me this reflexive discomfort and uneasiness but whenever he or anyone else would say that I'm his favorite grandchild I'd want to hold on to that as closely as i possibly can. I don't want him to leave us and more than that I want for whatever happens to at least happen with him back at home but neither of those things seem likely right now although who the fuck knows. I hope his last thoughts can be of flowers, like Kafka's, and Lispector's, or of love, wherever he is I hope it's not asking too much to hope for that at least. For someone that spent his life so deeply immersed within that Garciamarquesian solitude he never made those around him feel any way other than at home, safe and warm and loved and adored and adorable and lovable and at home not because of a place not even the garden at the house in Lahore but with him always always I've never felt more at home than during the times I spent near him, and his love and his flowers

[schrijverr]

'Till Death Do Us Part

Part 4 out of 13

When Alex has to bring Philip to work, he and Thomas discover that they both have something in common: they lost their love. They form an unexpected bond and connection about this that grows into something more.

A medium burn with parental feelings about Philip and flowers.

On AO3.

Ships: Jamilton

Warnings: brief mentions of death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 4: Cornflowers Means ‘Delicacy’

Thomas felt as if he’d gotten Martha’s blessing to pursue Alex. He had wanted to before, but he’d felt guilty towards her, so instead he had riled the other up and argued with him.

But now…

With their tentative friendship evolving every day, the sudden email reminding him to keep living seemed like a sign. Maybe that was stupid, but Thomas was going to cling to it. Though he had to figure out how to work up the courage to flirt first.

He was absolutely hopeless at the whole thing. He’d started bribing Alex with food, making sure the other ate lunch everyday as a way in.

It was a slow process, but yesterday Alex had shown up at his office with a bag with two bagels in it when Thomas had gotten lost in his work and forgotten the time. He’d shrugged: “Seemed only fair to chip in myself for a change.”

Instead of using it as a way to thank him or something, Thomas had made a joke about Alex finally stopping with mooching off him, which had only earned him a small shove, before they had started an argument about the usefulness of the hole in the middle of a bagel.

Thomas was close to ripping his hair out in frustration.

Martha had flirted with him, he had never done this. He had no clue what he should be doing and James was absolutely no help. When he had asked him the man had simply said: “Too aroace, Tom.”

So now he was going to the one other person who could help him with this, but by God did he dread it.

“Hi, Thomas, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hello, Angie,” he replied, holding up a bottle of red wine, “Can I embarrass myself again and have you tell me I’m stupid before helping me?”

Angelica grinned: “With love. Here, come in.”

Thomas came in and dropped the wine on the kitchen counter of her apartment, before throwing himself on the couch with a groan. That earned him an eyeroll from Angelica, who poured them both a glass of wine, before pushing his legs of the couch and sitting down.

“Pizza and a romcom?” she asked, phone already in hand.

“Yeah, let’s be fully trashy,” Thomas agreed.

“You love trashy.”

“I truly do.”

Angelica ordered the pizza and waited for Thomas to leave behind the shelter of a pillow. He finally did and took a large gulp of his wine, before he said: “I don’t know how to flirt.”

“What?” out of all the things, Angelica had not seen that coming, but the realization hit her: “Oh my God are you trying to shoot your shot with Alex?”

“Maybe?” his voice was unsure and small and Angelica was living.

“Are you for real?” she exclaimed, “Tell me everything! Leave out no details. Holy fuck, this is great.”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” he said miserably.

“You can’t just ask me about advise to flirt with a guy, whom you’ve been crushing on for years while claiming you were never going to go after it and expect me to not get excited about it, Thomas. I mean come on, what changed?”

“I mean, me and Alex are kind of friends now and then-” he hesitated, unsure if he wanted to tell Angelica about the email from Martha, “then I got a reminder- it’s a long story.”

“Tell me,” Angelica demanded.

“You remember Alex brought Philip with him to work?” Thomas began.

“Yeah, that was four months ago, though.”

“Well, me and Alex talked and I told him about Martha, because Philip had told me about John, remember that?” he asked.

Angelica nodded.

“He called me,” Thomas went on, “It was John’s birthday and he was struggling and I had told him he could always talk to me and stuff, so he did. We bought Philip a Halloween costume and then we went to John’s grave so that he could show it to him.”

“Oh shit,” Angelica took a big gulp of her wine, “That’s a lot heavier than I was expecting, sorry. I didn’t know that part, he told us he handled John’s birthday well.”

“I mean, he did, sort off,” Thomas said, “Don’t let him know you know, I don’t know if he wanted me to tell you. But in the end it was a good day.”

“John loved Halloween.”

“Thought so, Alex mentioned Philip getting excited about his costume,” Thomas told her.

Angelica cringed in sympathy.

“Anyway, we spend John’s birthday together and after that it was different in the office and stuff and I brought him lunch-”

“You brought him lunch!”

“He had forgotten, what was I supposed to do? Was that weird?” Thomas sounded scared, Alex hadn’t seem to mind and he did it after. WouldAlex be mad at him?

“No, no, not bad,” Angelica quickly assured him, “Just sweet.”

“Then why did you react like that?” Thomas hissed, stress outing itself.

“Because I haven’t seen Alex eat in break room since forever,” Angelica replied, “He deflects every time I asked, we were already planning an intervention or something.”

“Oh,” Thomas didn’t know what to say to that, “Well, you don’t, he’s been eating fine.”

“Thank God for that, Eliza can be scary.”

Thomas huffed out a laugh at that, before proceeding: “So, I brought him lunch and he thanked me and said that I could call him if needed too.”

“How precious.”

“So I did,” Thomas decided that after sharing about John’s birthday to Angelica it would only be fair to tell her about himself as well, “Because Martha had send me an email – it was a site thing, send emails to the future and stuff – and, well, that was an unexpected punch to the gut.”

“Are you okay, Tommy?” Angelica’s brows were concerned, “I didn’t hear you about it.”

“It’s fine, Angie,” he assured her, “Me and Alex watched movies all day and just reminisced about her, it was nice. But in the email, Martha told me to move on from her.”

“She knows you too well,” Angelica smiled softly, she had known Martha herself and had seen first hand how devastated Thomas was after her death.

“Yeah, so that’s what I’ve been trying to do for the past few months, but I. Can’t. Flirt,” he fell back dramatically once more.

“God, you’re hopeless,” Angelica said, “Luckily I am here to save you, I am the best wingwoman known to man.”

“I hope you’re right, because being friends with Alex is killing me. Do you know how cute that motherfucker can be?” Thomas told her, “He has these big ass smiles and these little giggles and they are designed to kill me.”

Angelica smiled fondly, slight hurt in her eyes as a different person with the same complaints flashed in front of her eyes.

The bell rang and Angelica quickly got their pizzas before she sat down to form a game plan, which she privately named ‘Plan Jamilton’.

“Okay, so first up, what is a regular day with Alex like? So an office day, but then I don’t have to hear about your boring meetings unless Alex is involved,” she asked.

“I get in, he’s usually in the break room getting coffee, we talk – well, argue, but not mean – about whatever, we work, we eat lunch, then work some more, then I tell him to home if it’s not Tuesday or Friday, because he goes home earlier on those day, because he has to get Philip from school,” Thomas listed, then shrugged: “Meetings are still the same.”

“Huh, is that why I couldn't find him last Tuesday?”

“Yeah, normally Philip gets picked up by one of his Aunts or Un- you know that, sorry,” Thomas cut himself off.

“I know the others pick Philip up from time to time and that Alex hires a babysitter, I didn’t know there was a pattern,” Angelica confessed, “I’m more the fun Aunt that shows up from time to time with presents, Eliza is more the overly involved Aunt, but that’s fair since Philip was in her for nine months.”

“Touche.”

“Anyways, you and Alex seem to talk a few times during the day. Morning and lunch and before he goes home, all good opportunities,” she suggested.

“I’m aware, but then I’d have to know what to say, don’t I, Angie,” Thomas pointed out.

“Alex is a natural flirter, give him a push and he’ll do most of the work.”

“But then what do I do? How do I react to him flirting? That’ll be bad for my soul,” Thomas whined.

“Think of it like banter, you two do it all the time,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “Just maybe make it a bit more suggestive here and there, add innuendos. I think you can manage that.”

“And what if Alex thinks it’s weird or if he’s just doing it because he’s flirty?” Thomas worried, “I mean, you said it yourself that he’s naturally flirty, what if he doesn’t think anything of it and then I am the weird one and he hates me.”

“He’s not going to hate you, you idiot,” Angelica rolled her eyes, “He likes you.”

“What? How do you know that?” Thomas needed answers and he needed them now.

“Technically, I don’t, but-”

“Then you have no ground to stand on and I shouldn’t risk it.”

“Let me talk, Thomas Jefferson,” the full name shut him up, “As I wanted to say: Technically, I don’t know for sure if he likes you, but he has stopped complaining about you and last week he said you might have shit ideas on company policy, but you had great taste in classical writers. He loves classical writers. That’s huge for him.”

“That’s hardly anything, Angie.”

“And Laf asked me what was up between you two,” Angelica played her ace.

“Laf thinks there is something up between us two?” Thomas took the bait as predicted, hopeful puppy eyes that shouldn’t be adorable on a 6’3, grown man.

“Yeah, he said – and I quote – Hm, did you notice anything off between mon petit lionand our dear Thomas, those two seems to be getting closer,non?”

“Your French accent is horrible.”

“Not the focus, Tommy. The focus is that he wiggled his brows about it.”

“He wiggled his brows?”

“Yes, he only does that if he is super certain of his observations or if he knows something. I’m still figuring out which one it is,” Angelica informed him.

“So maybe Alex said something to him?” Thomas suggested.

“Maybe, but you’d have to ask him.”

“I’m not going to ask him.”

“Why not?”

“Because he is a nosy Frenchman, who doesn’t know when to stop meddling and he’ll embarrass me in front of Alex, I’m sure of it,” Thomas whined.

“He’s not that bad, Thomas. Get over yourself,” Angelica told him, taking a bite out of her pizza slice.

“No, one time I told him I was considering celebrating my birthday and he threw me a huge surprise party – granted, it was sweet of him, but also no, not for me – with like a live band and stuff. It was way too much.”

“Okay, so maybe not ask Laf directly,” Angelica conceded.

Thomas eyes suddenly lit up with inspiration and he exclaimed: “You could ask him!”

“No!” Angelica protested immediately.

“Why not?” Thomas was pleading now, “For me.”

“Because then he’ll know for suresomething is up and talk to either you or Alex and then your whole plan will still be ruined,” Angelica explained, “You just need to trust me and flirt with Alex. I swear it will be fine.”

“But what if it isn’t?”

“Then I’ll get you ice cream and chew out Alex,” she promised.

“I hate it when you make a point,” Thomas complained.

“And I hate eating without playing a movie, we both make sacrifices,” Angelica rolled her eyes, completely unimpressed as she took another bite of her pizza, almost as if to make a point.

In the end they did watch a movie. It was a shitty romcom, as promised, and every time someone flirted Angelica rated it and advised for or against the method. Thomas wasn’t sure if he wanted to strangle or hug her.

He still didn’t say anything for almost a week and a half, until he found himself in the printer room with Alex.

“Honestly, Thomas, you can’t possibly think that saying a cloud and rain are the same makes any sense,” Alex rolled his eyes, pushing some buttons on the printer.

“No, just think about it, okay? Clouds are water, rain is also water, correct?” Alex grudgingly agreed, “A cloud is basically water floating around until it gets cold and falls, so therefore rain is basically just a cloud falling.”

Alex paused, processing his words, before he said: “Oh my God, shut up.”

“Make me,” Thomas had been so caught up about winning their argument that he hadn’t even thought before letting the slightly suggestive words slip out.

Now they both paused. Thomas looked shocked at his own words and Alex studied him curiously, his eyes scanning him up and down, before he smirked and asked: “Is that a threat or a promise, Tommy? Because you really shouldn’t say things you can’t deliver on.”

Then he grabbed his papers and left Thomas gaping like a fish on dry land as he tried to process the entire interaction.

Alex was internally panicking as he hightailed out of the room, hoping to leave Thomas before the man had gathered his wits again. Sure, Thomas might have started it, but Alex had taken it a level further.

He’d wanted to flirt with Thomas, but they only just started to be friendly. Well, maybe not just, but it wasn’t as if they had stopped being rivals that long ago.

It was just…

It was just that Philip had really liked Thomas, he was still sometimes asking about how Mr. Thomas was doing. And the man had done so much for him on John’s birthday. And he had looked so vulnerable with the email and Alex had never seen that side of him and his stupid crush was developing at an alarming rate. And he didn’t want to acknowledge it or make it real, but…

Butnow he might have made it weird.

Fuck, what was he going to do? Oh, wait, Eliza was picking up Philip today – normally he would do it, but school ended early that day so Eliza had offered – and it was after lunch, so he wouldn’t see Thomas today and he could talk to her and have a plan tomorrow.

With that in mind, he tried to forget about the whole incident and work till the end of the day, losing himself in his work and hoping he wouldn’t run into Thomas.

He left at five on the dot and at half past five he was knocking on Eliza’s door. She opened, but before she could say anything he blurted out: “I flirted with Thomas today. I think he started it, but now I’m thinking it might have been me.”

She blinked, then blinked again, before she pulled him into the house: “Tell me everything. Is this the great Mr. Thomas Philip was telling me about? The one you’ve been crushing on and didn’t tell me and I had to hear about from Herc?”

“Maybe?” he squeaked.

He and Philip ended up eating dinner with her and Maria and afterwards Maria watched a movie with Philip, sending them a knowing look that made Alex blush.

Alex had known Eliza since Freshman year in college. He and her had hit it off right away, even dated for a while, but then John had taken a break from the army to study and- well, they just found they were only dating to prove something to themselves.

The point was Alex told Eliza everything. She’d been the first to know he fancied John, had helped him pick an outfit for their first date, had been there for ring shopping and wedding planning. She had carried Philip for nine months for Pete’s sake.

Yet he had hesitated with telling her about Thomas.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, but if he told her it would be real, because telling her made it real and he was scared of this being real.

But now it was going to be real.

It was going to be real because Thomas had said something slightly suggestive and Alex had taken that as a sign to blatantly flirt with the man. It was going to be real, because he was going to tell Eliza.

Fuck.

He started up slowly, hesitating about certain parts, what to say and what not, but in the end the words started to flow out of him like they always did.

Alex told Eliza about how he’d thought Thomas was attractive, but had pushed that down with the personality, but then he’d been nice to Philip and that had stirred something inside him again. He told her about John’s birthday, the endless jokey lunch discussions, Martha’s email, how he the feelings had been building up until he had blurted out his comment that day.

All throughout Eliza just listened and nodded along until his word vomit session was over and he just sat there and breathed.

“It sounds to me,” she began carefully, “like you really like Thomas and that he is a good influence on you. And if I understood correctly, he has proven himself to be willingly involved with Pip. He sounds like a catch, ‘Lexi.”

“He is,” Alex sighed with a smile, then slightly sadder he added, “I just don’t know what to do. I might have scared him off today.”

“Come on, don’t be so deprecating. I knew you in college, you can woo him,” Eliza encouraged him teasingly.

“Wow, thanks, ‘Liza,” he huffed.

“I’m serious, ‘Lexi. You can flirt and you know it, you’re a charmer if you want to be, when you’re not, you know, forcing people to have opinions they need to defend,” she said, “Though, Thomas already knows that, since-” she gestured vaguely, “since you two do that.”

Alex laughed at that, before he turned more serious: “What if I fuck this up, Betsy? What if I do something wrong? What if Pip gets hurt by this? I don’t know how I’d live with myself if this hurts him.”

He only called her Betsy if he was really worried about something.

“Hey, Alexander, look at me,” if he was calling her Betsy, she was pulling out full names, “You’re not going to fuck this up, you just need to be patient for a moment.”

“Have you been hanging around Burr?” Alex groaned.

Eliza rolled her eyes at him: “No and just because you don’t agree with someone doesn’t mean they can’t have a point.”

“He should have points, ‘Liza, that’s the entire point,” Alex told her.

“I am not having this discussion with you right now, we were focusing on something else,” she knew deflection when she saw it, “We were talking about Thomas and you wooing him.”

“What? Do you have a battle plan or something?”

“Of course I have.”

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

“You could stand to mention it more,” she smiled, “Now, you are flirty, which is great everyone will say that you are. He knows Laf, he’ll ask if he’s curious and Laf is how we keep tabs on him. Trust me, he will come talking if Thomas ever asks him anything like that.”

Alex laughed: “Remember when Herc said he had a date and Laf showed up at the restaurant in a disguise to check on her, because she had ‘weird vibes’?”

Eliza snorted and nodded at the memory, before moving on: “So we have a route of communication, sort of, to tell how the flirting is received. If it’s good, you can ask him out. If not, well, I have ice cream and a shoulder to cry on.”

“Betsy, you are the best of women, honestly. If you weren’t so gay, I’d marry you,” he told her with a grin.

“Like I said, you’re a charmer,” she ruffled his hair, before ushering him and Philip – who had been elated about the later bedtime – out the door while reminding him to tell her everything from now on.

He left with that promise to her and a lighter heart.

The next day started like any other, with Thomas finding Alex in the break room like nothing had happened. For a moment Thomas worried the other was going to pretend that nothing had been said, crumbling his resolve to start flirting today.

“Hi, Alex,” he decided on his normal greeting, just to test the room.

Alex turned and smiled – it was that stupid bright smile that did things to Thomas – then said: “Hi, you’re looking good today? New pants?”

They weren’t new and Thomas knew that Alex knew that, because it was an outfit he’d worn many times. The comment eased some of his anxiety about this as he replied: “No, but glad you’re finally appreciating my impeccable sense of style.”

The eyeroll Alex gave him couldn't have been stopped even if he tried, so he just winked: “Nah, you still dress overly colored. Maybe I can help you find a better sense of style. Those pants would have to come off for that, though.”

Then he sashayed away like he hadn’t left Thomas blushing, pouring coffee over his hand because he wasn’t paying attention to the coffeepot.

And for the next few daysit continued like this. Their arguments that had turned into banter had now turned into flirting.

They were dancing around each other like teenagers afraid to be rejected for prom and the whole office had probably caught onto it. Alex was sure of that with all the looks knowing they were getting.

This was confirmed when Washington made him stay after a meeting in which some flirty comments had slipped into their debate, he raised a brow at Alex and asked: “What happened to the ‘nothing like that, sir’?”

Alex blushed heavily and squeaked: “Back then it wasn’t.”

“So it is like that now?”

“Sir,” it was a whine and Alex would deny it later.

“Alex,” Washington just replied, completely nonplussed.

“Ugh,” Alex groaned, this softly said: “Maybe? Not yet. I don’t know.”

“Well, Thomas is a good man, be kind to him,” Washington told him, a slight warning in his tone, before he got protective, “And be careful with yourself too, son.”

“I’m not-” Alex cut off the standard reply, because it was really not true at this point, so instead he nodded: “I will, thank you, sir.”

Washington send him away with some paperwork and an order not to stay late again and Alex promised he wouldn’t, because he was picking up Philip today and he had promised the kid they could go to a park after school.

Philip was so excited to see him and Alex pushed him on a swing and caught him when he wanted to jump off.

During dinner Philip asked: “How is Mr. Thomas? He was nice, why doesn’t he come around again? He came that one time and you are friends now, right? Why doesn’t he come around like Uncle Herc and Uncle Laf do?”

“It’s a bit complicated, Pip,” Alex said after a moment, “Me and Thomas are friends, but it just never flowed like that.”

“You always says I can change my own path, why can’t you?” God, sometimes Pip was too smart for his own good.

“I’ll see if he wants to come to movie night with your Uncles and Aunties. Does that sound fun?” he might regret this, but the look on Pip’s face was worth it.

He didn’t approach Thomas directly, with all the flirting he didn’t want it to come across as asking for a date. If he was going to ask Thomas, he was going to ask it better than that. Instead he approached Angelica: “Hey, Angie, can I ask you something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“For movie night, I, uhm, well, I wanted to ask Thomas to come, but that’s weird, because it would be me asking, so I wanted to ask if you could invite him to come along?” Alex hoped she would say yes.

Angelica smiled pleasantly and Alex dreaded her answer: “Why is it weird when you do it?”

“Come on, Angie,” Alex whined, “I’m sure you and Eliza gossip about me. You know what this is about. If I ask him out, I’ll do it differently than a group movie night, because Pip wanted to see him again.”

“You’re gonna ask him out?” Angelica asked excitedly.

Alex cursed his stupid mouth and said: “Maybe. It’s still new and stuff, but eventually, yeah, it’s the plan at least. Don’t tell him though, please.”

Angelica cooed: “You are too cute. I won’t tell, don’t worry.”

“Will you ask him?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” maybe there was a bit too much force in the words, but Alex didn’t care.

That Friday Alex was more anxious about movie night than he had any right to be. It was usually hosted at his house so that he could put Pip to bed on time, before they watched non-kid movies, though everyone had a soft spot for the animated movies.

He had checked everything over multiple times and the only thing distracting him was Philip’s latest car parkour.

Herc arrived first, sweeping his nephew into his arms and being a calming enough presence that Alex had relaxed by the time Eliza and Maria along with Peggy showed up.

Then Angelica arrived with Thomas in tow. He greeted Alex awkwardly: “Sorry, is this okay? Angie said it was, but I don’t want to intrude.”

Luckily Alex didn’t have to answer, because Philip came running: “Mr. Thomas! Mr. Thomas, I have started keeping my drawings in this book and it’s already pretty full, do you want to see? We’re going to watch Mulantonight? Have you seen Mulanbefore? Did you like it?”

Thomas smiled: “Hey, kiddo, how about one question at a time? I’d love to see your drawings.”

Philip cheered and dragged Thomas away, who send Alex an apologetic look, though Alex didn’t mind having the pressure of him. He was distracted by Angelica: “That went well.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you dork, it’s going fine,” Angelica assured him, “Now, I want something to drink. Do you have popcorn?”

Lafayette arrived last. By the time he came knocking they had all the snacks set out and the movie was waiting. He bustled in: “Bonjour, Bonjour, sorry I’m late. There was traffic and I was sleeping.”

“Uncle Laf!” Philip was off the couch and at Laf’s side in seconds, these nights would always make him excited enough that he dropped off early.

“Ah, mon petit neveu, how are you?” Laf hugged him tightly.

Philip babbled excitedly: “I’m going to become an artist. I showed Mr. Thomas my drawing book and he says they’re really good and my teacher says so as well.”

“Mr. Thomas?” Laf asked, he hadn’t been around often lately with his job keeping him busy and traveling. He had seen something was up, but he hadn’t gotten the note that the two were doing something about it and he hadn’t heard Philip about it yet either.

From the couch Thomas spoke up: “Hi, Lafayette. How was your week? Heard they needed you back in Paris?”

“Thomas! What une surprise!” Laf said and they had a conversation, which was more an interrogation how he’d ended up here. Alex saved Thomas by telling the nosy Frenchman that they were worked together on his financial plan and Thomas was not so bad ‘yes, Laf just like you said, I know.’

Movie night went great, they watched Mulan first and Philip kept asking Thomas questions throughout the entire movie, which Thomas answered dutifully. This amused the other adults greatly.

By the end the excitement had died down and Philip was nodding off. Alex left Eliza in charge of refilling the snacks, while he got Pip ready for bed.

When he got back the only spot left was right next to Thomas, he suppressed an eyeroll at his friends antics and sat down, knowing Laf would be all over this when the night was over. But for now he didn’t care.

He and Thomas had watched movies together before, albeit under different circumstances, but it was nothing new. Though he had forgotten how warm Thomas was and – now that he thought about it – he was kind of tired.

Slowly he slid sidewards throughout their viewing of The Patriotuntil he was leaning on Thomas’s shoulder, fighting to keep his eyes open. In the distance he felt something shift and the he slid further, a warm arm resting over him before he drifted off completely.

When he awoke it was dark and he was tucked in on the couch, cold and alone.

He sat up in confusion until his eye fell on a note in a familiar cursive handwriting that was too pretty to belong to someone in this century. It read: You fell asleep. We thought it better to let you be. Thanks for inviting me, I had fun. Sleep tight. x, T.

And honestly that little ‘x’ shouldn’t have made Alex blush. He looked up to a picture of John and whispered: “My dear Laurens, I think I’ve fallen in too deep already.”

The picture didn’t reply, instead John’s smiling face stayed static, but Alex still found it comforting to have John looking at him with something akin to encouragement. John would want him to be happy, he had always tried to do what he thought to be best for Alex, for Pip.

“You’re right, Jacky, I shouldn’t be dancing around this,” he said, “It’s just hard. And I’m scared,” he huffed a laugh, “Isn’t that ironic? After everything I’ve been through the great Alexander Hamilton is scared of asking someone on a date.”

He paused for a moment then said: “Don’t look at me like that, you asked me on our first date, you rash motherfucker. Don’t think I’ve forgotten you springing it on me when I was almost collapsing after finishing a paper. I got you with marriage, though, so even-Steven.”

It was comforting to talk to a picture of John, it was different when talking to his grave, less heavy when not surrounded by stones. Was it probably slightly strange? Yes. But Alex had been strange his entire life.

“Maybe I should be a bit rash for once, pick up your slack,” he told John, ignoring that his friends always said that they were both too rash and it was bad for their health that the two of them got along so well, “I think I’m doing it.”

That weekend he made a plan, had to double check something with Philip and worry-rant at Eliza, she was a great listener, he truly loved her.

Then Monday morning it was time, God he was nervous as he waited at Thomas’s office, where the man usually dropped his stuff before starting his day.

“Hey, uhm, this might be weird, but Pip told me about the vase in your office and if I remember correctly it was empty Friday, so I got you these,” Alex held up a bouquet of purple flowers, “It’s- they’re cornflowers, I hope I remembered correctly.”

Thomas took them, a bit stunned, his eyes slightly sparkling.

“I looked up their meaning. They mean ‘delicacy’, but also ‘be gentle with me’ and I thought that very fitting, because you’re – this is sound weird – but you’re very cute in an ‘I want to protect you’-way,” Alex was stumbling over his words, “But it’s also a request – the ‘be gentle with me’-part, I mean –because-” he swallowed and hesitated, “Well, you see, I- I was wondering if you- you would like to go on a- uhm, on a date. With me. This Friday. If you want. You don’t have to of course, maybe I’ve read this whole thing wrong and that’s fine, but if you do want to then I’ll be happy- more than happy, actually-”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I’d love to go on a date with you this Friday,” Thomas told him, blush coloring his cheeks and a bashful smile tugging on his lips.

Alex grinned the grin that did things to Thomas as he replied: “That’s- Yeah, great, I- uhm, I’ll text you details?”

“Yeah, okay. Then I’ll go put these in water. Thank you, Alex, they’re beautiful,” Thomas walked away, flowers in hand, planning to yell at Angelica through the phone.

Bit of a more lighthearted chapter after all the grief and angst lmao

Also, always lovely when I get to the part of ‘and now they flirt’ only to realize that I do not know how to flirt and I have no clue how to write it. Ooof. So shout out to time skips xp

Side note: this → “well, they just found they were only dating to prove something to themselves.” is not invalidating the fact that Alex is bi, just that Eliza wanted to prove to herself that she wasn’t a raging homosexual while Alex wanted to prove to himself that he wasn’t in love with John.

Also I thought it was very funny that they thought to use Laf to keep track of the other, only for both to tell him absolutely nothing

[boozergray]

Okay so I finished Assassin’s Creed II yesterday in the wee hours of the morning (and reminded myself that I’m officially too old to be staying up till like 3 in the morning playing video games when I have to work the next day) and I have some thoughts.

tldr: AC2 was really good, I loved the story even though some of the game mechanics made me want throw my controller across the room, Ezio is a total babe and I love him, Leonardo is his boyfriend don’t @ me, I had Federico for five minutes and fell in love and immediately got my heart broken when he was killed, all of the lore with the Pieces of Eden and the First Civilization was super cool, I love Desmond with all my heart (partly because it’s Nolan North and he’s a gem), and Lucy’s smile haunts my nightmares (I’m sorry but with the graphics for the game her mouth just looks kind of weird on her face like it’s disproportionate and it’s bad and I cringe so hard).

A little background (because if I’m going to ramble, I’m gonna make it thorough) I don’t have a ton of experience with the whole Assassin’s Creed franchise. Eons ago I played a tiny bit of Black Flag when I was dating some guy who’d just gotten the game. And then when I got my PS4 in 2018 I picked up a copy of Syndicate because it was on sale at GameStop and I love me some Victorian England and the guy who worked there said I didn’t need to have played the others to play that one. And then when Odyssey came out, the part of me that’s been obsessed with Greek mythology for the past seventeen years went crazy. I have owned these three games and played them sporadically but had never beaten any of them. Then I hopped on eBay the other night looking for used copies of games to buy and somehow I wound up buying just about every game in the franchise that I didn’t already have (except for the first game because I don’t have a PS3 or an Xbox 360 and I’m garbage at playing games on the computer and also I didn’t get Rogue because for some reason it was like still hella expensive compared to the others). But so I got all the others games and decided to go back to the beginning and play everything in release order. Which obviously makes a lot of sense for the Desmond storyline because those definitely should be played in order in my opinion. And yes, I have gone on YouTube and like watched all the story stuff for the first game and Altaïr’s history and how Desmond wound up at Abstergo because I know how important it is to that whole arc.

Okay into the actual opinions and all that jazz.

POSITIVES: The whole Italian Renaissance setting is just *chef’s kiss* perfection. I love it – the architecture and the atmosphere and the art you can buy and the historical figures you can meet. It’s all so much fun. Leonardo DaVinci was my fave because he’s obviously a total cutie and gets so excited over every little thing you bring him. (Also, I 100% believe Mama Auditore made Ezio tag along to meet him because she knew they’d be adorable together and you can’t convince me otherwise.) I love how the game follows Ezio’s life and all the ups and downs over the span of like twenty years. I’m pretty sure this is the first game I’ve played where you get that much of a character’s life in one game. You get to see him start off as this dumbass fun loving teen who just wants to have fun and then watch him grow to the man who could take on one of the most powerful figures of the time. The entire Auditore family is too precious and I love them all. I was extremely bummed out with how quickly we lost Federico considering how quickly I fell in love with him. The whole story of vengeance and wanting to make everyone who hurt your family pay is something that just hits so many emotional points and watching Ezio go from his initial blind fury to piecing together this bigger conspiracy that he’s thrown into and then having that desire to be done with all his anger and rage that’s been fueling him for so long is just such a rollercoaster. The modern day sections with Desmond and the team are just as interesting and I love how we get to see the effects he’s dealing with from spending so much time in the Animus. The way they did the bleeding effect and the whole dilemma of just how this is going to affect his mental stability in the long run is kind of scary.

NEGATIVES: The parkour got incredibly frustrating at times. Maybe I’m just a bad gamer, maybe it’s just the age of the game really showing, but there were times when I wanted to throw my controller across the room. The assassin tombs were particularly frustrating not to mention any mission that involved having to chase a character who was going up and down to different levels. It took me a while to get a handle of the hidden gun but even once I did it still was more frustrating than helpful a lot of times. The lack of a real stealth mechanic outside of just getting out of the line of sight or blending in with a group of people was super annoying the more stealth missions they threw my way. A lot of the graphics haven’t aged well as far as character design goes – basically every woman looked kind of cringey to me when you got up close and personal.

There’s probably a million more things that I could say but that’s it for now. I’ve started playing Brotherhood which I’m enjoying so far and I’m looking forward to going through all of Ezio’s story.

[aliesteem]

An Immensely Through Fine Dining Experience from the Brokest College Student Ever.

I’ve recently broken into my old, student email and was reunited with the dozens and dozens of papers I’ve written about dining in Culinary school. These papers scored me A’s and made me realize I possibly do have a future in writing. I’m still proud nearly two years later so I thought I’d share. Enjoy!

Introduction

I am a college student and with that, it’s practically needless to say that I am also broke, very broke. I, however, through great resilence have maintained my champagne dreams enough to actually see a fine dining experience. This is NYC, there had to be one I could afford. In my heavy search the top, three included Tocqueville, Del Posto, and Le Bernardin. These three I took into consideration because of there more affordable price range, beautiful display, and interior design I’ve seen online and (or) its popularity online. It was  Tocqueville that caught my eye. Located 1 East 15th Street in Manhattan, NYC. Tocqueville was most affordable as if they were thinking of college students like me who dreamt of a mouthful of caviar. The others came with a hefty price tag, ones that honestly made very nervous. To me, a $10 burrito Chipotle sounds like a luxury so you can imagine my reaction in finding out Le Bernardin restaurant that costs over $87 for its pri-fixe menu. It doesn’t sound like a shocking expense to some but on this side of the fence, it is.  Del Posto was a little more affordable at $50 but it still wasn’t in my price range.  Luckily, Tocqueville provided the most inexpensive pri-fixe menu only costing $36 for a three-course menu. I felt relieved. I decided this restaurant is my final choice.

Tocqueville, named after the French political sociologist and theorist is owned by husband and wife Marco Moreira and Joann Makovitzky who also own new restaurants 15th East and The Fourth in the same city. With no trouble found I found that the Chef is Jason Lawless on StarChefs.com. He has managed the kitchen since August 2011. The restaurant itself has been opened since 2000 and in seventeen years it has built its reputation of being one of the most innovative French-American restaurants in New York City. You can see from how modern chic yet classic they truly are by their restaurant design. From the photographs provided on the official website, tocquevillerestaurant.com - the look of the restaurant is a cool but clean creamy white and black color scheme. I can tell it is a place that provides excellence a traditional fine dining restaurant would hold but pulls themselves away from being boring and ordinary. I adore the minimalistic and classic take. Their dishes and plating looked absolutely sparkling as well. The picture heading the page of their menu category was the Grilled Filet of Beef. A pearly white plate of succulent meat topped with small diced tomatoes, red onion and herbs were appetizing enough for me to set a reservation for a party of two with a close friend.  

`Making the reservation was fairly easy. Once I called a person who sounded to be a young woman answered sweetly. I asked to make a reservation and she was very quick and efficient. There wasn’t any of the run around that I had anticipated. The space I wanted was open. It didn’t take any more than say four minutes. I was surprised. I expected the restaurant to be packed with reservations especially on a Friday. We talked for a short while after about what will partake once I arrived. The phone call was my first experience with Tocqueville’s true hospitality. It made me all the more comfortable with coming in and dining.  

My expectations in visiting Tocqueville are sky-high. For one, it is a fine dining restaurant. I’ve never been to one. This is exciting, I want it to be fascinating. Above all, I am looking forward to the food. Since I’m a meat and a wine lover the Red Wine Braised Short Rib sounds appetizing. I cannot wait. There is a bit of nervousness about the way the employees will treat me, however. I am visibly very young and a person of color. I sometimes feel when I enter nice places that I’m not supposed to be there. I feel like the oddball. In past experiences the waiters did nothing to eliminate that feeling, making me more unsettled with long stares and awkward treatment. Other guests dining had body language that expressed that I was ruining the atmosphere for them.  I hope that doesn’t happen this time but as always I am remaining positive. From what I know now Tocqueville is a beautiful restaurant with a kind, warm friendliness. I’m counting down the days till the visit.  

The Visit

I woke up a Friday morning with a Ferris Buller-type charisma and energy. I was going to visit a beautiful fine dining restaurant in the city! I have never been to a French restaurant before much less one that was seemingly so elegant. I had the jitters. What should I wear? How should I do my hair? Which train should I take? Is my friend going to be on time? Did I give her the right directions? A million and one questions running through my head. I thought I ought to relax my nerves before I begin my day. I snugged my feet into my orange fluffy slippers and made my way to the kitchen. I picked a Lavender Jasmine mix tea from my collection to boil. Tea always soothes the soul. I brought my mug to the window and looked out for a moment. The day was chilly, sunny but very chilly. “How am I going to dress nicely and still be warm?” I asked myself then take a short sip. I was still nervous but pushed to let it go and know everything will go well.  

My reservation was at 12pm sharp for lunch. It was already about 8am and I know how slow I can be with getting ready in the morning so I start right away. I jump into the hot shower, brush my teeth and prep my skin with scrubs and cleansers for makeup. I hop out, dry off, put most of my day’s clothes on and begin to do my makeup. This takes the longest out of getting ready. I try to see if I can get it done within 30 minutes' time. Nope! It took me almost an hour because I kept messing up but luckily I started early so I was still in good time. I decide on a long, oversized, grey sweater that flows over my black leggings. I pair it jet black heels. Next, was my hair, I have natural, kinky curly hair that usually needs lots of attention but yesterday I braided it up. All l had to do now was unravel them so they can come out fluffy and defined. Once all my clothes were on, fully moisturized, fixed my hair and makeup done and feeling confident to step outside it is 10am. I get a text from my friend, who I invited to dine with me.  “I don’t know what to wear!” she texts. She thinks she’s going to be late. I knew it but I didn’t stress. I tell her don’t think too much in it, just wear something nice but no jeans or sneakers. She tells me she’ll figure it out. I just hope she makes it on time. I make sure everything around the apartment is tidy and in order before I head out the door. I text my mother that I am leaving to go to the restaurant since she’s already at work. She texts me “Good luck!” and I’m out the door.  

I live on a very popular, main street in Brooklyn. It’s loud and lively this time of day. People are heading to work and school in droves. Walking down the block to catch the A train I run into a family friend I haven’t spoken to in a long time. So long, in fact, I can’t even remember her name but her face is vivid in my memory. She asks how I am. I tell her about school and how much I love majoring in Hospitality Management since I’ve transferred from the old school. I keep in mind the time and explain to her I’m on my way to somewhere important and have to get going. She reminds me to say hello to my mother for her and I rush into the train station. Luckily the train arrives immediately. I’m not a train girl not in the least. I know it’s the New York way but I love traveling on an empty bus as oppose to a crowded train with performers yelling “It’s Showtime!” in my ear. It’s not my cup of tea. While I’m on the train I read a Pete Wells article I’ve pointed out. I need to know his review for a class. I’m really into it because I’m a fan of sushi. It’s one of my absolute favorites. The good read distracts me from the groups of people stuffing themselves into the cart along with the street entertainers swirling on poles above my head. I’m thankful.  

My stop is a Fulton Street which I switch over to a 4 or 5 train because it gets me to Union Square under ten minutes. Once I climb out of the train station I check my phone. There’s a text from my friend she says she needs more time but is about to get on the train now! It was 11:23am and we planned to meet at 11:30am. I guessed she lost track of time. I decided to find a way. I am kind of scared to walk in so I wait right outside the restaurant to wait for my friend meanwhile taking a few pictures of my own. It’s nearly 12pm but she is nowhere in sight. 

I go inside to introduce myself to a woman who I believe is the Maître d’ of the restaurant. I tell her my reservations and how I am a student doing a report. Her face suddenly gleams in a huge smile and asks if I talked to Roger. I express I don’t know who Roger is even though I feel I should know. She tells me to sit down which she gets him for me. In a few minutes, Roger is in front of me. A short, well-suited older man with blonde white hair. I don’t recognize him but he says he’s a professor at my school. He begins to ask me questions about wine. I was taken aback a little because I wasn’t expecting it. I tell him my Wine & Beverage professor that I’m taking now, Professor Aliah. I convey how much I’m enjoying her class and all the elements in detail there is to wine-making. It turns out Professor Roger is a Master Sommelier. I wished I said more about wine to him but I was so nervous I’m not used to settings like these.  My friend still wasn’t there after the talk with Roger. I told him I’d wait a bit longer she is supposed to come any second and he told me to take all the time I need. In the meantime, I took pictures and looked around the restaurants outside and the entryway. The name of the dining establishment is printed white on a black sight like a tent over the sidewalk.  The door where the guest enter is made up of all glass. It is chic, modern and simplistic. The Maitre D’s desk in the reception appeared tall, sleek, dark wood tabletop with a shiny, brown wooden, dimmed lamp. There are also award plaques and photos framed all along the wall. Their awards included the 2016 Forbes Magazine’s Restaurant with the highest rating. Best of Award of Excellence 2016 by Wine Spectacular and a 4.8 out of 5 from Zagat 2017. The restaurant is not just popular but highly respected and celebrated, making its way to more great success is that they’ve been recently recommended by the Michelin Guide in 2016.  

-

 I looked at the time on my phone and it said 12:30am. Since I was already checked in I figured I was safe from losing my reservation but I opted to seat in the dining room than to take up space in the front seating area any longer. To get to the dining room one needed to pass by the bar. The bar designed with a black and silver color scheme was the most modern section in the restaurant. On the bar top sat a huge marble vase filled with light blue, yellow and pastel green orchids that touched the ceiling. Soothing French jazz spilled gently out of the above speakers. The ambiance, graceful and contemporary. I was in awe. I actually hoped I could have my lunch there.   As soon as I sat down Roger offered me water and the front server – who name escapes me handed me a menu. I told him I wanted to wait for a friend. He was very kind and understood. Pouring the water I realize the glasses were short, open chalice glasses, still easy to hold by them small stem. It was fifteen minutes later when I heard my friend’s voice speaking to the Maitre D’ in the reception area. Seconds later she came walking in the dining area and sat down. She apologized for the lateness. I’ve been late to her events before so I could only be so upset. Seconds later the front server returned to hand us menus.

-

The menus were the longest menus I’ve seen. The outside a smooth olive green, the outside a yellow and cream menu with a folder style with all its printed dishes in bold and script. The front server in his black and white uniform finished with a sharp blue tie read over some of the meals that were listed. I appreciated his attentiveness. His body language was confident, alert to where I was impressed by his time and time again throughout the service. He was very efficient when scanning the room and our table. I took the opportunity to ask him the style of the napkin fold, neither did Professor Roger. “We simply make up the style,” he told me. The back server then came up to us from a side station behind the elongated gold curtains and offered bread. I was watching his Frenching style closely. He did it so quickly, it looked easy for him. When I attempt it in class I often lose the stability of the utensils in my hand. I chose the focaccia which was scrumptious. It was dense but not overbearing with flavor. The focaccia was filled with olives, spices, herbs and was beyond incredible with the home-made butter. I asked for another.  

-

My friend and I talked about our morning getting ready and caught up with each other’s lives since we haven’t talked in a month. In perfect timing, the front server came to take our orders. We picked two courses from the pri-fix menu. I ordered the Organic Potato and Baby Leeks Soup as an appetizer and a Red Wine Braised Short ribs entrée. As we waited for our meals and the back server pointed each of our tables I observed the dining area. The dining area was mildly lit from the light gold, sparkling crystal chandelier from above. The walls were a warm yellow with rich, gold curtains to match. The seats were made up of a comfortable cool silver, velvet. My attention was grabbed by the gigantic paintings on the wall that was created by an artist named Cheryl Roy Starer. The abstract art stood up on the walls so stunning with its blends of green, blue and white. It was a conversation piece definitely.  We were met with a unique hors d'oeuvres compliments of the Chef. It’s a fresh new take on the Southern-known treat. It’s a toasted golden brioche topped with the cooked yolk and whites of a quail eggs and finished with Alabama caviar.  The deviled eggs we centered on an all-white porcelain dish designed by Bernardaud Classic Silverware. This was my first time having caviar. The flavors delicate and salty reminded me of sardines in a way. The texture was cold creamy goodness. I wished I could have more. As we scrapped the crumbs from whatever was left of the exquisite deviled egg dish the back server approached us again to offer more bread. This reminded me of my Dining Room class where we service almost the same exact way, consistently offering our guest all the bread and quail eggs whites hard-boiled finished with Alabama caviar.  The deviled eggs centered on an all-white porcelain dish designed by Bernardaud Classic Silverware. This was my first time having caviar. The flavors delicate and salty, reminded me of sardines in a way. The texture was cold creamy goodness. I wished I could have more. As we scrapped the crumbs of whatever was left of the exquisite deviled egg dish the back server approached us again to offer more bread. I was waiting. 

-

This reminded me of my Dining Room class where we service almost the same exact way, consistently offering our guest all the bread they’d like. It was nice to be on the other side of the service. I chose the focaccia again. I could not get enough. This time however I was able to dip it into the Potato Leek soup which arrived moments later. When I first saw the bowl it was only filled with sautéed’ black mushroom and a miniature leek in the center of the bowl. I thought to myself there must be a mistake. Turns out the front server came prepared with a tiny creamer pitcher and poured the creamy soup into the bowl right in front of me. It was original and added a special touch. To be completely honest, I was expecting the soup to be bland. I’ve had potato soups so lackluster I pushed myself to finish a bowl. This wasn’t the case. The soup was luscious and silky, earthy with just enough seasoning. The soup was so harmonious with my pallet I was tempted to lick the bowl. I reminded myself I was in a very classy place but it was difficult not to, simply divine! When the entrée arrived I was the most enthusiastic. I am a huge meat lover. Anything meat I am a fan of. I’ll choose it over anything in the menu. I looked at the plate in front of me. The dish appeared kind of odd. My image of short-ribs wasn’t this. The dish came in a wide, circular plate. The meat of short rib formed in a rectangle, an island centered in the middle of potato puree. The short rib was glossed over with a deep brown red wine sauce that resembled chocolate. A lady sitting across from our table asked what dessert we ordered. We told her it was actually an entrée and she was surprised. On top of the short rib sat a roasted pearl onion and cylinder chunks of buttered carrots. The short rib melted on my fork as I cut through it. It was wonderfully tender, I didn’t need a knife. The flavor was robust, the sauce adding a vigorous taste of richness. Swirling a piece of the meat through the potato puree and putting it in my mouth it felt like I was eating butter. It has to be the most well-presented, heavenly dishes I’ve experienced in recent years.  Unfortunately, I was unable to order a dessert since I was on such a strict budget. Next time I’d make sure to experience the sweet parts of their cuisines. 

-

It took a while before the check came and I appreciate that. Usually, the front server passes the check to me as soon as the last fork bite leaves my mouth and I find it disrespectful. It hints that the server wants you to hurry up and leave completely killing the feeling of hospitality. My friend and I were fully ready to go when the bill came. It came up to $63.15 for both of us, not too pricey. We decided to tip 20% then we were on our way out but not before I could check out the bathrooms. There were three available bathrooms in the restaurant. One upstairs, one ground level and the other downstairs. I chose the downstairs bathroom. The staircase down was dark with small, glowing gold light to lead the way. The bathroom was covered in light and dark brown marble. The look gave a beach house theme added with the beige weaved baskets and dried plants spray painted gold. The vases were filled with white seashells. The walls were a sexy, dark gold against a shiny, wide mirror. The light was too dimmed, however. I couldn’t see myself as clearly as I would like. The bathroom was also extremely clean, immaculate even. I could tell the restaurant as a whole took tidiness and organization seriously.  I enjoyed myself thoroughly at this restaurant. The ambiance and décor gave me what I wanted, fully satisfying my eyes as well as mouth with every savory dish. I’m glad I decided to come here as opposed to other establishments. It was affordable yet delivered an essence of great fine dining. I plan on going with another friend for a celebration. I’ll try everything I had my eye on the second time around. The restaurant met all expectations and taught me an extra thing or two about quality service. It ensured a tranquil sense of hospitality and an intuitive and refreshing strategy in service. I’d recommend the restaurant to absolutely anyone.  

[polar-stars]

O, Q and R plz :3

O: How do you begin a story--with the plot, or the characters?

Characters in 9 out of 10 situations ! Most of the time I design or think off characters and then attempt to build a plot around them. 

Exception are fanfics of course, as there are already characters provided, so to speak. 

Q: Do you have any discarded scenes/storylines/projects?

Yeah, plenty of original stuff actually ! It’s mostly just things that I planned when a lot younger and that now that I am looking back on it, just don’t make a lot sense ;w;

One of those is a story called “Jurassic School”, which is kinda about a few humans having their DNA mixed with the DNA of dinosaurs (?) Yeah, it’s just as weird as it sounds. And in the end, I didn’t really find a way to make this premise truly work ahdhdh But honestly, I still really like the characters ! (I, once again, came up with the characters first)

I also have scraps of a discarded scene from “Shokugeki no Kimiko” that found on my phone and will put under a read-more if anyone’s interested. It’s what I first intended to be the beginning of Chapter 9 ! 

Originally it began with Takumi and Ikumi having a scene (despite the fact that I never wrote an end to it ahdhdhf) and when Kimiko went to attend gardening work, it was originally Chieko she met up with instead of Yasu. I changed it, to have Chieko still having to clean up her room because I thought that was more fitting. 

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence?

;w;

Yes, but I am massively too shy to name them because they’re great and amazing and I don’t want to put myself into comparison with them. 

Thanks for the ask ^^ and here’s some deleted scraps:

The morning sun shone trough the window, filling the room with a warm light.In the air there hung the fragrance of tomatoes, basils and cooked eggs. Soft footsteps could be heard climbing up the stairs, with absolute determination to make no noise whatsoever. They came nearer and nearer, till finally a blonde man was standing on the doorway. His blue eyes searched the room and didn't took long to stop at the comfortable bed standing right in the middle. 

-

Right about to go downstairs, Chieko stopped in her walk as she heard Kimiko's footsteps and turned around. "Kimiko-cchi!" She then called out happily, while adjusting her glasses like ever so often. Kimiko's quiet response was a surprised expression about the unexpected encounter. She hurried her steps to reach the petite, young girl, who immediately said. "Good Morning." "Good Morning, Chieko-Chan." The two started walking downstairs together, while Kimiko questioned. "You're up already? I thought that only Hiroshi-Kun and me have field work duties." "Oh, I usually awake at that time. I've got to go and feed my animals."  Chieko informed. "Ah, okay!"Kimiko looked at the short girl beside her a little closer, without her noticing. Since she was going into the animal stall, Chieko did not wore one of the knee-long skirts, Kimiko saw her so often in, but knee-long shorts. She also wore a jacket, instead of the usual blue cardigan. Chieko's glasses once again slid down her nose again and like it was instinct, Chieko immediately pushed them upwards with her middle finger. It's not like Kimiko had not seen her do this before, in fact it was a very common movement for Chieko, but after yesterday something was different.She looks so much like..."You came home pretty late yesterday." Chieko had suddenly turned her face back to Kimiko, which brought Kimiko out of her thoughts immediately. "Y...Yeah!" She stuttered, overwhelmed.  She probably should stop comparing her classmates to the faces from a photoalbum she gotintroduced to yesterday. There was no way around it and Kimiko pretty much knew who everyone's parent was now. She was just surprised that out of all the thousands of students within the 115th Generation she got introduced to those Reborn Jewels. Whatever, she would ask each of them about their infamous parents when she felt it was the right time. So, she hoped that the bespectacled girl next to her would distract her. Chieko had focused her sight on the front again, but that hasn't stopped her from talking. "...And you really just found yesterday, that your brother is in the Elite Ten?"Great of course the distraction had to be the infamous brother of Kimiko's. She suppressed a grunt, to not sound needlessly mean to Chieko and only nodded. "He never mentioned it at home, I never asked anything about Totsuki either to be fair...You probably figured."Before Chieko could ask anything else, Kimiko switched the topic herself. "Well, whatever...What matters it that I know it now, so well..... What kind of animals do you actually raise, Chieko-chan?" "Hm? Oh well, here on Polar Star we have ducks, chickens and rabbits...So if you ever need some game..."By now the two had by reached the door of the dormitory and exited into the cold outside. As the sun hasn't gone up yet, it was still dark and chilly. Morning dusk hung in the air and the birds were still asleep."....you can ask me! I can defiantly organise some. Not just ducks, chickens and rabbits by the wa- Oh hey, look! It's Yasu."  The tall fellow was just returning from his morning work, holding a chainsaw and wearing a stoic expression, which lightened up as he saw the two girls. "Good Morning, you two!" He raised a hand and used it to pat Chieko's black head as he was near enough. "Mornin' Ibusaki!" Kimiko smiled back, while Chieko rather grunted her greeting, slightly irritated from the heavy hand on her head. "Good Morning." "So you voluntarily wake up early as well, Ibusaki?" Kimiko asked her other dormmate, trying to distract herself from comparing him to one of the photos in the album. But yes, Yasu Ibusaki was without a doubt a Reborn Jewel as well...Just like all her classmates from Polar Star. "The sooner you awake, the more you have from the day, no?" Yasu responded. "Very philosophical." Chieko murmured, before turning to Kimiko. "He usually starts the day with making his smoke wood and is probably on the way to his private workshop now, Hm?" Yasu gave a nod, which resulted in Kimiko whistling impressed. "Y'all really are self made guys, huh? Raising animals, own smoke wood and workshop...that field." The two exchanged looks, before Chieko happily chirped. "You could say that, I guess." And Yasu informed. "Growing your own ingredients is part of Polar Star's ideologies." "It really sounds very interesting." Kimiko smiled, a little nervously. Hopefully she would be able to contribute as well. She had never grown her own animals. "Oh Chi-Chan, now don't start running your mouth so early in the morning." Yasu calmly interjected and shot a concerned look, at least it seemed so, to the transfer student. "She's unstoppable as soon as she starts."Chieko crossed her arms. "Excuse me?" Kimiko couldn't help but to chuckle. She had to admit that her dormmates were, despite their oddities, were truly enjoyable company. She looked excusingly to Chieko. "In all honesty, I'd love to hear but I still gotta get to the field, you know?"Chieko clapped her hands together. "Oh yes, of course! Come on, Kimiko-cchi, I'll show you the fields..! Yasu, have you seen Tadokoro already?" "Yeah, he's working on the fields." "Perfect! Alright, let's go then, Kimiko-cchi!" Another soft giggle from Kimiko. "Okay, Okay Chieko-Chan." "Oh and about Polar Star's history, the short version will do." Chieko smiled at Kimiko and stuck out her tongue towards Yasu afterwards. He responded with padding her head once again. "See you at breakfast, Chi-chan." He began to walking again and murmured to Kimiko. "But remember that I warned you, Yukihira." "See ya later, Ibusaki." Kimiko grinned. He gave a soft smirk back and waved, before turning away and walking towards the dormitory.

[azulwaves126]

This is my first attempt at a Destiel fanfic, since I finally had time to write. (coffeeshop au) Sorry if it sucks. It’s not done btw. 

Dean grabbed the boiling kettle, it’s whistle sounding in unison with several others. The warmth of the steam fogged up his glasses, which were already making their way down his nose. Weaving around the other baristas who were frantically prepping drinks, he poured the coffee into a cup covered in candy cane designs. It was a month and a half till Christmas, and still, businesses decided to take advantage.

“What a bunch of greedy bitches.” he grumbled to himself as he slapped on a top for the cup.

“One black coffee to go for...Castiel?” he called out. What a strange name, but who was he to judge? He was just a barista.

He was already turning around to prep another drink as the man hurried up.

“Thank you.” came a small reply.

“Sure thing.” Dean answered, still not looking up from mixing a peppermint mocha.

The day went on just like that, filled with frantic customers who waited exasperatedly. With the regulars who chatted up a storm. With the rambunctious families who left a war zone behind.

But Dean loved the coffee shop. All throughout his rough childhood, the twinkling windows and kind-hearted workers were what kept him going. What kept him believing. When his father threw fits, and left Dean and his little brother alone for days on end, he would go to the shop and get a free coffee and warm blanket for him and his brother. When his brother, Sam, spiraled into addiction and ended up in rehab, the owner, Jody Mills,  put in some of her own funds to his recuperation. The shop was his safe place, and he would be damned if he wasn't gonna make it that way for others.

Snow started falling early evening, just when his day ended. The white puffs looked like feathers as they floated onto the ground. It was dusk as Dean walked to his home, his breath sending puffs into the air and pine needles crunching under his feet. He shivered, and wrapped his jacket tighter around him. Tahoe was a great place to live, but the cold was a drag sometimes.

The prickly outlines of pine trees loomed over his street, the deathly quiet accentuating every rustle of their branches. His house, well, more of a cabin, was on the outer reaches of South Lake Tahoe, separated from the touristy areas. It was close to the mountains, and his neighborhood was usually calm, the amount of people encountered were sparse to none. That worked fine for Dean. It gave him the privacy he needed. But lately, it had been feeling very empty.

After letting himself in, Dean turned on the gas fireplace and threw his parka onto the couch. His cabin could probably fit 2 to 3 people, but that meant he had plenty of room. He got settled in the couch as the wind howled outside, and turned on the tv. As the voices droned on, and the storm blew outside, he drifted to sleep.

Dean was startled awake, and it took a moment for him to orient himself. The watery light of the winter sun filtered through his blinds, hitting him right in the eyes. Crap. He was late for work. Cursing and kicking himself for falling asleep on the couch, he jumped into his clothes from yesterday, grabbed some things he’d think he’d need, and rushed off to get to the shop on time.

“I freaking hate myself sometimes.” he muttered under his breath, practically fast walking to the shop.

As he approached the cafe, Dean had to admit it looked extremely inviting. The large glass windows looked in on plush chairs in front of fireplaces, filled with people enjoying their warm drinks. “Phoenix Cafe” was painted on one of the windows in gold calligraphy. But it seemed too good to be true.  Was his life really working at a fluffy coffee shop on weekdays and going hiking on weekends? When his brother was in rehab, and his father dead? Shoving the thoughts down, he walked in, the heat from the fireplaces almost steaming the snow off of him in a surge of warmth.

Dean was greeted by warm smiles and the smell of cinnamon. Winter days were his favorite, especially on tough days. He made his way behind the cashier and put on one of the brown aprons hanging on the wall, rubbing his bleary eyes.

“ Hey deano, you’re 7 minutes late and sleep deprived! ”

“Thanks for letting me know Donna.” Dean answered dryly. He was in no mood for their usual banter today.

“You betcha, just don’t fall asleep on me okay?” Donna said as she handed him a cup of coffee. She was a lot more perceptive than she let on.

Dean gratefully took the cup and had a long swig. Wiping his mouth, he walked over to the register to begin his shift. Even at 7:30 in the morning, a line was already forming. He took care of several aloof lawyers and a very stressed looking mom dressed in work clothes and holding a little girl’s hand. “I’ll get you another one to go, for free.” Dean let her know.

“Really? Thank you so much!” the mom distractedly answered while reining in her adventurous toddler. Dean got her her payment and let Donna know to make the mother an extra cup.

“That was really sweet of you.” came a gravelly, and similar voice, from the counter. Dean turned back around to face a man in his mid thirties, about Dean’s age. His disheveled black hair framed a warm face lit up by two extremely blue eyes.

Quickly realizing he was being talked to, Dean replied, “I like doing it. Those small things usually make a big difference for others.”

“Hmm, wisely said.” the man smiled warmly and took his phone from a pocket in his tan trenchcoat, “I’ll have a black coffee please.”

Dean snapped his fingers. “That’s where you’re from. You were here yesterday, Castiel right?”

“Actually, yes. You remember me?”

Dean shrugged, “I like keeping track of my customers. Ya never know when they can become regulars.”

Castiel shot him a mischievous look that almost melted Dean on the spot. “I’ll take note of that.”

“Hey, what’s holding the line up!” yelled yet another smug man in a suit.

“Just a second!” answered Dean. He rung up Donna for a black coffee. “Anything else Castiel?” he queried.

“That’ll be all for me. See you around Dean.” added Castiel.

Dean moved to the next customer, watching as Castiel grabbed his coffee and strode into the snow outside, his trenchcoat fluttering behind him.

[nade2308]

I don’t wanna live to waste another day

A/N: It’s completed. Finally! And I am proud and happy to present you with my new fic.

First of all I’d like to thank @stanclub for arranging this challenge on Tumblr, and again as the first time I wrote a fic for one of their challenges, it was a pleasure and I can’t say my thanks enough times because I challenged myself again per se. I hope you like this.

Then thanks go to my partner in crime and lab rat, @82tweeder. If it wasn’t for her, I probably wouldn’t be finished my story or posting for that matter. She was luckily able to go through the story today and she was of great help. Thank you babe. For cheering me and reading through it. It means a lot.

I’d also like to thank @lisamott9 that also cheered me on when I told her about this challenge and the fic. She had so many nice words to say about me and my writing that pushed me to move on from where I was on Tuesday and things just kind of picked themselves up yesterday and today. So, thank you girl, you know how much I appreciate your input. And now I can work on that other story we discussed (maybe I need a little bit of inspiration first, but I’m sure I can tackle that).

And last, thanks to delighted who was kind enough to suggest a few ideas as to where I can go with my story. Thank you hon for one of those suggestions made it in the fic and I was very happy to put it there.

And without further ado, let’s proceed with the story.

Title: I don’t wanna live to waste another day (from “Breaking Inside” by Shinedown).

Written for: @stanclub 2.5k followers writing challenge.

Prompt: Friends to lovers: I keep drawing you in my sketchbook because I’ve always found you to be beautiful and I’m longing to tell you how I feel, but one day you find it and you have questions. With Stucky.

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Bucky Barnes

Other characters: Sam Wilson (mentioned), Tony Stark (mentioned), Peggy Carter (mentioned), Sharon Carter (mentioned), Brock Rumlow (mentioned), Winifred Barnes (mentioned), George Barnes (mentioned), Rebecca Barnes (mentioned), Margaret, Annie, Bart and the other students in Steve’s art class.

It was on days like these that Bucky resented everything. It was almost a year since the event that turned his life upside down and it still haunted him. On days like these, he cleaned the place excessively, trying to come to terms with himself. Bad days were few and far these days, but still often that they worried Steve to no end.

Steve was Bucky's best friend since childhood, and honestly Bucky couldn't even remember when they met first, only that when he set his eyes on the little blond ball of fury, Bucky knew that it was the right decision to stand up for him.

Last night he had a nightmare that Steve was the one that suffered in the mass shooting instead of Bucky but he died on scene. Bucky woke up to Steve yelling his name and trying to wipe the tears off Bucky's face. Bucky sobbed uncontrollably once he realized it was just a bad dream and that Steve was next to him, alive and well.

Steve decided that Bucky needed a day off work so he rang Tony who, besides his eccentric and obnoxious self, was understanding enough that he let ‘Buckaroo’ as he liked to call Bucky, have that day off and get well again.

Bucky fell asleep in Steve's embrace around 5 am and slept through the better part of the day. When he woke up, Steve was still there and only with Bucky insisting he go to class did Steve leave him alone.

Bucky cleaned the kitchen with such fierce determination that by the end of his cleaning spree there was not one thing that was out of the ordinary. He sighed.

Now what?

Bucky wished he didn't insist Steve going on with his life as normal today, because Bucky didn't dare admit to himself that he needed Steve at that moment. Plus if Steve was home, they'd probably binge watch one of those new TV shows on Netflix and eat pizza, and Bucky would drink cola while Steve would down a beer. It was probably just another excuse because Bucky was really hyped up on the new TV show they did on Ted Bundy. All of his friends teased him and acted like they were scared that Bucky would kill them in their sleep one day, because of his interest on serial killers. Steve blamed Bucky's propensity on catching the “Criminal Minds” fever back when they were still in high school. Now almost 10 years later, Bucky was still addicted to the show and it was one of his many escapes when things got rough. Bucky just liked to keep up to date with things.

With nothing else left to clean in the house, Bucky sat down on the couch and wrapped himself in his favorite blue fleece blanket. It was a gift from Steve for Christmas a few years back and it kept Bucky warm when he was cold and in all situations when Bucky was under the weather because of something else. Steve liked to call it the therapy blanket because Bucky often wrapped himself in it when one of his dates went bad.

Bucky counted the minutes till Steve was back home from his class. Despite his need for Steve, Bucky also knew that Steve lived for the 3 times a week he got to do what he actually loved the most, and that was teach people how to draw and paint and share the love for the art.

Steve was always enthusiastic about art. Ever since they were kids, Steve would always draw something for his mom or Bucky, left little doodles on the page margins in Bucky's notebooks, and when he was older he moved onto drawing and painting portraits. Bucky was the huge dork that still kept all his notebooks with Steve's doodles and drawings in it.

It was for a while that Steve hadn't drawn anything or if he did, Bucky didn’t see him doing it. Ever since Steve got the opportunity to teach art classes he seemed more engaged with his students and actually doing what he wanted to all these years, instead of working as a graphic designer in Tony's company, where Bucky also worked in as an engineer. That also meant he was busier than usual and probably didn't have much time for it. Bucky shouldn't have thought much on it but he missed Steve in his element.

Bucky was restless on the couch, nothing catching his eye long enough for him to calm down. He proceeded with cleaning his own room but even that didn't help. And then Bucky eyed Steve's bedroom.

And to those that knew Bucky, they also knew that once he set his eyes on something, it was hard to convince him not to do anything about it. The fact that they both had zero sense of personal space for the other was beyond question, although they both had things the other didn't know about.

Searching for a particular sketchbook that Bucky knew Steve kept on his desk next to the window, Bucky instead found another one of Steve’s sketchbooks that sat open on a particular page. Coming closer, Bucky could see the pencil that was discarded in a haste and the ugly line it left behind. He wondered what made Steve leave it like that and with a shocked gasp he realized Steve must have sketched when Bucky had his nightmare.

Instinctively Bucky picked the sketchbook and took it with him to the living room. Wrapping himself in the blanket again, he opened it on the first page.

And there it was: a drawing of him. Bucky.

Flipping through the rest of the pages, Bucky found numerous drawings of him in various states: Bucky smiling, Bucky laughing, Bucky sad, Bucky grumpy, you name it. Most of them were drawn while Bucky was sleeping on the couch, wrapped up like a burrito.

Bucky thought he should find it creepy, since he never thought Steve was drawing him specifically. Of course Steve did draw him once when he was younger, when he was perfecting his technique on portraits but Bucky thought that was about it.

What baffled Bucky the most was the love he could see bleeding on the pages. The softness of the moves with which Steve managed to capture him and how lifelike he looked. It had woken up something inside him that Bucky swore he'd keep buried for the rest of his days.

He was in love with Steve.

Bucky wasn’t sure when he fell for Steve. He came out as gay in high school and despite his great fear his parents would hate him or disown him, they were the total opposite of that. They accepted him and educated themselves on the topic.

After that his mom always wanted him to hook up with one of the sons of her friends and his father tried his best on giving him tips for how to woo his date (even though he wasn't sure those things would work same on men as on women). Becca was teasing him relentlessly and insisting that she'll be his best woman on his wedding with Steve, to which Bucky promptly choked on his coffee when it was brought up. She had no idea how much Bucky wanted that but when asked he always denied that there was something more between him and Steve. As far as Bucky knew, Steve loved him only as a friend. And Bucky couldn't risk his friendship with Steve with admitting his true feelings, and that he loved Steve with everything he got. That he felt unwanted whenever Steve had someone over, or that he was jealous whenever that someone kissed Steve. And the most embarrassing part of it all, what made Bucky feel disgusted and ashamed of himself was the numerous dates he had where he imagined Steve to be the one that fucked him hard or made slow love to him.

It was painful, but Bucky made do. He compromised with himself: it was better to have Steve as a best friend than not have Steve in his life at all. Bucky didn't want to confess his love to Steve so he'd be told Steve didn't love him back. Bucky was a realist and scared and no one could blame him for doing what he did all these years, and that was hiding how he truly felt for Steve. But it didn't hurt less when Steve told him he asked Peggy to be his girlfriend, nor when Steve started dating Peggy's cousin, Sharon, few months after Peggy and Steve split.

There was that one time when Bucky saw Steve flirting with Sam when they had their usual morning run. Steve was awkward and adorable and Sam put him out of his misery when he told Steve he already had a boyfriend. Bucky had to admit that meeting Sam was one of the good things that happened in his life because Sam helped him find a therapist when things got rough.

Seeing drawings of himself in Steve's sketchbook, Bucky wondered if it was possible for Steve to love him back? Was it possible for Steve to reciprocate on the love that destroyed Bucky slowly, but also kept him alive?

In hindsight, Bucky should have seen it years ago. It was everywhere and in every word Steve said and every thing Steve did. There was that one time when one of Bucky's coworkers outed him in front of the whole group and Bucky had to leave the company because of the harassment he received for his sexuality. Steve wanted to beat the living lights out of Reginald, but Bucky managed to prevent Steve from acting on his emotions.

From then on there were numerous situations where Steve acted protectively around Bucky, but Bucky chalked it up to friendship, because Steve was always like that with Bucky.

Steve couldn't have possibly felt the same for him, right?

Then there was Brock, Bucky's longest relationship up to date. They met shortly after Bucky started working in Stark Industries. They hit it off immediately and even though Bucky liked him enough to imagine a future with him, he knew Steve wasn't very supportive of their relationship. And with right, because Brock showed his true face once Bucky was involved in the mass shooting. Suddenly he wasn't good enough, he was too much to handle with his anxiety and nightmares, and then there was his left arm that lost almost 60% of mobility thanks to the bullet that caught Bucky in the shoulder. There was a whole list of issues that bothered Brock. Gone was the love and attention and promises.

Bucky could clearly remember Steve's reactions and how much he wanted to strangle Brock for what he did to Bucky. It took a while for Bucky to realize that Brock was wrong and that he wasn't a burden and it was okay to have PTSD and anxiety without having to be careful around people. Steve helped him in those tough days and it was then when they decided to share Steve's condo in Brooklyn. Steve was the perfect roommate and they knew each other for all their lives so the decision was mutual and what they both needed.

Looking at Steve's drawings again Bucky was reminded of all the times they nursed each other after a bad time in their lives, all the times they watched over the other when they were sick or a bad night. Because no matter what happened in their lives they always gravitated to each other. It was a given.

Bucky sighed, looking down at the sketchbook one more time before he closed it. He hugged it close to his chest and kept glancing at the clock on the wall and realized that Steve was due to come back from class any moment now. Bucky couldn't make himself return the sketchbook back to Steve's room. He was drained from his night and the realization he just had. It was best he waited for Steve so they could talk.

It was a can of worms he wasn't ready to open, but there was this determination that set itself in him and for once Bucky just wanted to get it all out, come hell or high waters. He'd deal with the consequences later.

Bucky sat himself comfortably on the couch and waited for Steve.

…

The familiar screech of the train tracks alerted Steve of the arrival of his metro line. Just one more thing and he'll be home and with Bucky. Steve beat himself over and over for leaving his best friend alone after a bad night, but Bucky insisted Steve go with his day normally. He shouldn't have listened to Bucky. It wasn't that he didn't trust Bucky with himself but Steve didn't want to leave him alone when he wasn't in his best mood.

Steve entered in the train and found a free seat. He pulled his headphones out of his pocket then put them in his ears and got lost in the moment for a bit. He just wanted time to go faster. It usually did when he was listening to music.

Steve's eyes wandered around the cart. An older couple was seated in the back with bunch of college kids. It made him smile because they reminded him of some of his art students. That in turn made him think of today's class.

…

(Flashback)

Steve sighed in frustration as the third attempt of drawing a simple fruit in class. He could feel his students’ eyes on him, and it made him even more nervous and prone on mistakes. Only the respect he had for his students stopped him from throwing the pencil out of the window.

“Are you okay Mr. Rogers?” Annie, one of the teenage girls in his class asked, seemingly worried.

And Steve didn't want to see that look on such a young face. He didn't like the fact that he caused someone else to worry about him, something about his best friend being always the worrywart. Steve hated the face Bucky always made when Steve was sick or did something stupid. Which was often.

Steve shook himself out of his thoughts, aware he zoned out.

“Yeah, uh, yeah… Just, I think it's not my day. I'm usually better at drawing a simple apple. Sorry.”

“No worries, Mr. Rogers. It happens.”

“I know, I know. Thank you for asking that, though. Don't think anyone else than Bucky has asked me that recently.” Steve replied without thinking.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bart, a grumpy 30 years old asked from the back of the classroom.

Steve looked at him, baffled, but he schooled his face quickly. Bart was a good hearted person so Steve didn't take it in a bad way.

“Bucky is my best friend. We know each other since childhood. And we live together.”

There was a chorus of “oooooh” from the class and Steve blushed. He was used to people mistaking him and Bucky for a couple enough, but it never ceased to elicit a reaction from him.

“It's not like that.” Steve spluttered. “He is my best friend. We are roommates. Nothing more.”

“Who said you were?” Margaret, the only student that had hit the 70s mark, queried and winked at Steve.

“I assumed… uh, never mind.” Steve scratched his neck and stood awkwardly in front of his class.

Margaret grinned conspiratorially and Steve could see her and Annie talk to each other. Those two were a menace.

“What's Bucky like?” someone from the back said, Steve couldn't remember his name. Was it Pietro?

It took Steve by surprise that someone would ask about Bucky, but it was a welcomed distraction so he decided to answer.

“He's the greatest. Always there for me. The best friend anyone could ask for.”

Steve then proceeded to tell them all about his best friend, how they met, and the adventures of their everyday life. What Steve wasn't aware was the way he was practically glowing when he talked about Bucky as Margaret was so kind to notice and voice it out loud.

“You certainly sound like you are very fond of him, dear.” Margaret piped in.

Steve blushed again and he had to grin.

“For not being a couple, you blush a lot, Mr. Rogers.” Annie helpfully added.

As if that was Steve's cue to turn in a tomato, he turned a darker shade of pink.

…

Not just that he managed to be productive and teach his class something useful, but Steve was also effectively distracted from thinking about Bucky and the way he looked last night - like death warmed over. He was reluctant to leave him alone today, but Bucky insisted. And nothing could deter Bucky from getting his way with things - which was useful for when Steve got himself in trouble. Bucky was still in the back of his mind the whole day.  

“So, that will be all for today.” Steve covered the sheet he was working on while turning around and addressing his class.

“Oh, but it's too early, Mr. Rogers.” one of the students whined.

“It's actually past the 90 minutes mark, Beth. Besides I have important matters to attend so if you don't mind…”

“It's Bucky, isn't it?” Margaret winked playfully.

“In a way. It's personal though, so I wouldn't want to share more info without his consent. But he had a bad night, and it took me a lot of convincing from him to appear today and not just cancel. So be happy I appeared at all.”

Margaret nodded at the explanation with a knowing glint in her eyes.

When the last of his students left the classroom Steve released a breath he didn't know he was holding. It was time to go home.

(End of flashback)

…

“Breaking inside” by Shakedown blasted in Steve's ears as he all but missed his stop. The song lyrics hit him right in the feels, the story behind the powerful text was hinting at his situation when Bucky was in question and for the first time in a while Steve didn't know how to bury the feelings back to where they were all this time.

Moving on autopilot the last three blocks that separated him from the subway to the condo he shared with Bucky, Steve turned in his head the moment he realized he was gone on Bucky forever.

They were in high school when Steve first realized he liked boys as much as girls. Or the exact moment that he started looking at Bucky with different eyes and suddenly he wasn't just his best friends. He tried quelling that feeling with dating Peggy and then her cousin Sharon, but that didn't help him at all. Steve liked Bucky still and he often caught himself thinking of spending time with Bucky while on dates with other people which wasn't fair for them. Hence why he always broke off things before feels got involved.

Steve still remembered Bucky's face when he flirted with Sam, like a man ready to have a heart attack. Steve chalked it up to Bucky being a jealous friend but looking at things in a new perspective, Steve asked himself, was it possible that Bucky felt the same for him?

There was something that shifted in the air but Steve chalked it up to the cold weather and the wind chill.

Then there was the shooting that changed Bucky's life and by default Steve's too. With Winnie and George being in Indiana, Bucky didn't want to impose on his sister and her family. Steve came up with the suggestion for them to start living together. It took him a while to convince Bucky, but when Steve suggested he either impose on Becca or come with him, Bucky caved in. In the last year Steve had to battle through days when Bucky didn't want to get out of bed and days where you couldn't contain him in one room because he was bored out of his mind. They visited Bucky's therapist together because Bucky was afraid that if he spoke about the event without Steve being present, something could happen to Steve.

Not many could understand Bucky and Steve would forever loathe the moment Bucky met Brock Rumlow and he became Bucky's boyfriend. That schmuck wasn't worth Bucky's love and time and he proved so by breaking up with Bucky shortly after he almost lost his life. Steve almost beat him up then, and only Bucky's pleading voice and the disheveled state he was in prevented Steve from sending Brock to the hospital. Bucky was too precious for Brock anyway. And in Steve's opinion if you love someone, you'll love them in any situation, and not only when they are healthy or working or something else entirely.

...

Passing by the bakery on the corner of the street, Steve saw Bucky's favorite plum tarts being displayed. Without much thought he entered and bought quite a few. He wanted to indulge Bucky, who could blame him?

He managed to wrangle his headphones in submission and put them away. He looked at the time and saw that it was just past 8 pm. He hoped Bucky was okay and that they'd have a nice night watching some movie on Netflix and literally chill.

Steve was careful in opening the door to his apartment because he didn't want to interrupt Bucky in case he was sleeping. And sure enough, Bucky was sprawled on the couch, covered in his favorite blanket, the one that he bought for Bucky for Christmas three years ago. The soft baby blue sweater that Bucky had put on was Steve’s and Steve felt warmth go through him at the sight. Bucky's hair was loose and splayed on the pillow. Overall Bucky looked so soft that Steve didn't want to wake him up at all. But then he saw the item Bucky held with one hand. It was one of his sketchbooks. That didn't surprise Steve because Bucky grounded himself often going through Steve's sketches. What made Steve release a surprised squeak was THE sketchbook that Bucky held in his hand. Specifically one he never wanted Bucky to find.

Steve drew ever since he could remember. It was just something that started as a hobby but it developed in a passion that moved steadily throughout his life and ended in Steve taking art school and later going to arts college which earned him a degree. Nowadays he worked as a graphic designer at Tony's company but secretly he still loved to draw. There was something about the paper and pencil combination that would never get old, Steve knew.

That didn’t bother him essentially, that Bucky would go through his sketchbook. But the one in question he kept hidden at all times for the reason that it was full of drawings from the person that was holding it now. It was part of series of sketchbooks Bucky gifted Steve for birthdays and Steve made a good use of them. But never showing the drawings to Bucky. Only the ones that everyone was allowed to see.

Steve didn't think Bucky would violate his privacy and search for that specific sketchbook but he needed answers before he said more that he should.

Bucky stirred on the bed and Steve had a split second to prepare himself before being assaulted by the softness in the pale blue eyes that looked at him.

Bucky was awake.

…

Bucky heard the soft click of the front door but he wasn't ready to open his eyes just yet. He just wanted to enjoy the warmth of his blanket, and how happy he was that Steve was home. He could hear Steve moving around until he stopped in front of the couch. He stood there for a while before squeaking and Bucky found it hard to pretend he was still sleeping when all he wanted was to laugh because Steve always claimed that he didn't squeak.

In the battle between Steve and his warm post-nap bubble, Steve won. Bucky opened his eyes and stared at Steve, assessing the look on Steve's face. It was a mix between soft, fond and panicked. For a moment Bucky wondered what happened to Steve but then he remembered the sketchbook in his lap.

Bucky blushed as he fumbled with the sketchbook and he shot upright in the couch, trying to detach himself of the blanket and make room for Steve.

Steve stood above him like someone slapped a bucket of hot water all over him. Or maybe a wet Golden Retriever puppy. Yep, that was it.

Bucky didn't realize he was grinning until Steve raised a questioning eyebrow and Bucky smiled fondly at him.

“It's just you look like an adorable puppy. Adorable Golden Retriever puppy. Wet puppy.”

Steve choked on his spit and looked incredulously at Bucky.

“I'm not a puppy.”

“Sure thing pal.”

An awkward silence stretched between them until Steve broke it.

“What are you doing with my sketchbook, Buck?”

Bucky's momentarily good mood evaporated in a second, a frown now on his face.

“I… I’m sorry. I was restless and didn't know what to do so I went to your room. I found this sketchbook on your desk. It was there and I took it. I wasn't snooping, I swear.”

Bucky was distressed and looked genuinely scared. That shook Steve out of his thoughts.

“Sorry… Sorry, Buck, it's just…” Steve took a deep breath. “Today was one of those days where nothing goes right.”

If possible, Bucky shrunk even more into the couch. Steve face palmed himself at the sight.

“Look, I screwed up. I remembered now that I left the sketchbook on my desk and it's not your fault, okay? Not your fault.”

Bucky nodded but didn't say anything. Steve sighed. It wasn't like he anticipated Bucky finding that sketchbook. And now…

Steve went to the kitchen and left the plum tarts on the counter. He washed his arms and then removed his coat and scarf. Going back to the living room he found Bucky sitting on the couch, knees drawn close to his chest and with an off look in his eyes.

“Are you okay, Buck?” Steve asked tentatively, sitting on the couch next to him.

Bucky looked at him with the look of a wounded animal and shook his head. Steve felt awful. He shouldn't have gone to class. He shouldn't have been harsh with Bucky about his sketches. He shouldn't-

“Steve- Stevie, it's okay. Just because I might not react in a certain way, doesn't make you guilty of something. Okay?”

Steve looked at his hands in his lap. He probably said all of that out loud.

“I want to ask you something. You may not answer if you don't want to but seeing those drawings you have of me in that sketchbook… made me think and well…” Bucky chuckled and put a strand of stray hair behind his ear, “I came to realize I might not have been good at hiding what I feel and wondered if you, um, if it's possible you feel the same as I?”

“What are you trying to say, Bucky?”

“The only time I remember you asked me to pose for you so you can draw me was when you were discovering and perfecting your technique. After that, I've seen thousands of your sketches, but not one of me. But I found your sketchbook today and I saw it almost filled with drawings from me. So, I have some questions.”

Steve didn't say anything, deciding he'd let Bucky say his mind first.

“I went through your drawings of me and… I've noticed that they are very realistic. What I'm saying, of course they are, they are drawn by you.” Bucky smiled and looked at Steve, “I could see the love and the affection, how you think of me and I guess I want to know… Is it possible- It's stupid.”

“What is it Buck? What's stupid?”

“It's stupid I got that only from a few drawings and…” Bucky threw his hands in the air and sighed in frustration.

“It's more than just few drawings, Bucky.”

Bucky could see Steve's cheeks pinked up and he wondered just how many drawings of himself were out there.

“I see. Okay, I'm just gonna go and say this… Why is it so tough? Oookay, there we go. I'm in love with you.”

Bucky waited for a reaction. And Steve took too long to say or even do something. Bucky took that as a sign that he screwed things up and he started getting up but a hand on his wrist stopped him.

“What makes you say that Buck?”

Bucky sat back down and looked at Steve. He wasn't yelled at and wasn't ordered to leave the apartment, yet, so that was a good thing, right? He just hoped he didn't ruin his friendship with Steve.

“It's in all you say. And do. And the drawings just helped me gather the courage to talk to you about it. I guess I just put my feelings in a box and locked them. Hoping they'd go away. But they didn't. They are real. I love you Steve. I'm in love with you.”

“Oh, Bucky… I love you so much. Loved you for so long. But I didn't think you could love me back. God, I got out of my mind with worry last year when you were hurt in that mass shooting. When I saw your face on national TV, the way you were frantically running to escape, something lodged deep inside my chest. It turns out I didn't have to worry and hold out on you for so long, but I was scared.”

“Our friendship is too precious for me. I didn't wanna lose it in case you didn't love me back. I don't think that there's anything more that will hurt me than not having you in my life, Steven Grant Rogers.”

“Is this a proposal, James Buchanan Barnes?”

Steve winked playfully and grinned, the gloomy mood from earlier dissipating and his old self back on track. Bucky appreciated Steve and his way of making every situation better. And lighter. That's one of the numerous things about Steve that Bucky absolutely loved.

“It might be. With the way we are living together and we know each other our whole lives, it will only take me putting a ring on your finger to make it official.”

“Such a romantic, Buck.”

“Says the resident sap.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Steve's skin drummed with excitement.

“Yes. Like you have to ask now.”

Bucky smiled and puckered his lips.

The first touch of Steve's lips on his was soft and tender. Bucky didn't expect fireworks to go off or to see stars behind his eyelids but it was easily the best kiss he got to this day. Something uniquely Steve and full of love. It made him tingle and curve his lips in a smile. Steve pecked him again before moving back. As if pulled by a magnet, Bucky chased Steve's lips. This time the kissing became more heated and soon enough Bucky's tongue asked for entrance in Steve's mouth. Steve opened up and kissed as hard and greedy as Bucky, their lips dancing a sweet melody of two souls coming together at last.

“We were idiots, huh?” Bucky asked when he pulled off Steve and leaned his head on Steve's shoulder.

“Damn right we were.” Steve kissed Bucky's temple. “And oblivious too.”

“True that.”

“Although I don't know anymore. Two of my students today kind of pinned me in a corner and think they saw right through me when I mentioned you.”

“You talking about me in class, Rogers?”

Steve ducked his head and was faced with Bucky's smile.

“I might have mentioned you. A little bit. In passing.”

“Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”

…

 6 months later

 Steve arrived a little bit early at the studio he held his classes in. Bucky was sitting in one of the chairs, looking at a catalogue with pictures of wedding cakes. He was engrossed in the content and it made Steve feel warmth pooling in his stomach at the sight of his now fiancé, being so at ease and looking like a soft teddy bear. Steve wanted to cuddle him.

He touched the ring that Bucky put on his finger a couple of weeks ago. The last 6 months were the best in Steve's life and in Bucky's too as he was reminded so of every day. Just waking up next to Bucky every morning was worth facing every obstacle life threw at him. And he was happy to see his students filter through the room and each take a seat.

Today he planned for them to practice their portrait skills and he had the excellent candidate in mind. Said candidate was grinning now, looking like the cat that ate the cream.  

“Okay, everyone, thank you for coming today. As you know this is one of our last classes and I decided all of us to do something fun today. I gave it a lot of thought. And came to a conclusion when remembering something Bucky said.”

The familiar chorus of “ooooh's” made Steve stop with what he was saying. With the corner of his eye he could see Bucky was blushing.

“Back when I wanted to perfect my technique when drawing portraits, I asked my best friend to pose for me. He agreed and that was the only official time he knew I drew him.”

Steve grinned as he saw Margaret and Annie whisper between themselves as always.

“Those drawings that I kept away was what brought us together, to admit our feelings and we are here today because of them, or what Bucky likes to say, what I do best.”

“I thought that was him.” Margaret said and Steve had a split second before he had to tap Bucky on the back because he choked on his water.

Margaret had such a dirty mind sometimes. Steve should've known.

“Sooo, how about we have my fiancé be your model today?”

The whole room whooped and cheered.

“I take that as a yes? Okay, good. I won't be showing you anything today but let you capture this beautiful man all by yourselves. I did that 10 years ago.”

“It was 12 actually.” Bucky piped in as he got up and moved to the center of the room.

Steve waited for him there. For a moment he forgot he had a room full of students in front of him and leaned to kiss Bucky.

There was a loud sound of “yessss” behind them and Steve detached himself from Bucky. Bucky in turn chuckled and turned around.

“Hi, guys. I'm Bucky Barnes, the luckiest guy in the world. And apparently your lab rat today.”

That made the class erupt in laughter. Steve noticed it was tactful by Bucky to make them laugh so they relax.

“Model, Bucky. Model.”

“Yeah, yeah. So, where do you want me?”

Steve prevented any dirty thought to prevail at that question and smiled fondly at the love of his life.

“Right where you are Buck.”

Right next to me.

...

A/N 2: If you’ve come to the end of this story and you figured it out, congratulations. I was inspired for the characters of Margaret and Annie by Political Animals, a tv show Seb’s played in. Margaret as in Margaret Barrish (TJ’s grandma) and Annie (Doug’s fiancé and then wife). Hope you liked it. Leave a comment if you like. I love getting feedback and see what people thought about the story.  

[soyevidence-me-blog]

My Reality: Chapter 3

It’s Namjoon! I try to hold my excitement. No one in this office knows me and Josie know the guys. Honestly we’ve been pretty great at keeping our friendship out of the public eye, considering we met at a restaurant. I managed to contain my excitement as I approach Layla. “You know BTS?” I say most nonchalantly looking briefly at the cover of her laptop.

“What? Oh! This. Yeah they’re pretty great. I’ve been to a few of their concerts here in town.”

“Really?! Did you go to the music festival they preformed at not too long ago?”

“I did! It was one of their bests so far! Did you go?”

I can see that excitement and enthusiasm in her eyes we all get when we talk about them to fellow fans.

“Yes! We were..” I catch myself “..there front and center. Best seats in the house honestly!”

I felt bad. I didn’t necessarily lie to Layla, I just didn’t tell her the whole truth, that we were right there near the cameras in front of center stage, truly the best seats in the house.

“Oh my gosh! Lucky! What I would have done to sit in that section for just that performance. Namjoon... he is... perfection.”

“Yeah. He’s something else, isn’t he? Anyway, we’ll fangirl later! We need to catch you up on things before Chae gets back.”

I smile, thinking to myself how great it is to have something in common with a complete stranger and all of a sudden, in an instant, it’s like we’ve known each other our whole lives.

4 O’clock hits. I dismiss Layla and stay to wrap things up for tomorrow, but I couldn’t do it fast enough! I quickly make my way to clock out for the day and almost run to the lobby to meet Josie. This couldn’t wait! As usual she’s waiting for me right outside the elevator.

“Josie! Oh my gosh! You’ll never believe what happened?!”

I couldn’t hide my excitement anymore. She looks up and she can probably guess what it’s about.

“What is it?! What did he do this time?”

I halt just as I reach her.

“What?” I’m confused.

“Jin. Did he do something? Cause I promise you I had nothing to do with whatever he did this time.”

“What..? No not him. Layla!”

“Oh! What about her?”

I smile big, the kind of smile you make when you’re trying to hide excitement.

“Oh just spill already!” She exclaims in anticipation.

I wait for staff members to walk out the door before I tell her.

“Namjoon! She had him on her laptop cover and we had a moment when I asked her if she liked BTS!”

“What? No! Really?”

“Yes! Oh it was great!” I continue to tell her about the conversation as I grab her by the arm on our way out. As usual we stop by the convenance store on our way to the bus stop to grab a quick bite to eat after work.

“You have truly got to meet her.”

I say with my mouth full of food. This happens every time. I get excited about something and I won’t shut up about it.

“You’re gross.” Said Josie between bites.

“But she does sound interesting. I must meet this Layla girl.”

“Mmhmm. Should I ask her to have lunch with us tomorrow?!” I almost jump out of my seat when I make the suggestion.

“Sure. Why not?”

I make it through my apartment door and just like clockwork my phone goes off.

“Hello”

“How was work? Did you make it home safe?”

I was way too excited to remember to text him once I got off and made it home, but somehow he still manages to know exactly how long it takes me to get home.

“Oh hey! Yes I actually just got in the door and work was pretty great actually. I did have a lot of work to get done but I made a new friend!”

I start ranting off about my day for the next ten minutes before I realize I’m blabbing again, only giving him little to no time to react.

“.. so yeah. That was pretty much it for now. I’m going to invite her to have lunch with Josie and I tomorrow. But how was your day? Busy I asume?”

He starts talking about his day and everything that happened to him and the guys and all they did.

“Did you have dessert?” he asked suddenly after about 15 mins of us talking about his day.

“Actually no. I was way to excited about today to think about that. Why’d you ask?”

“Oh no reason.”

I can tell his tone is sarcastic, and just as I go to open my mouth to respond my doorbell rings.

“Jin, what did you do?”

“Why don’t you open your door and find out?”

I jump out of bed to check who, or what, was waiting for me at the door.

“Yes?” I ask through the speaker.

“Is this miss Evelyn?”

“Yes, who’s asking?”

“I’ve got a food delivery for you. I’m from Seoul Food Kitchen.”

“Oh. Yes. Come up.”

I open my door to wait for the delivery guy to reach my apartment.

“SeokJin really? You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know. But I wanted to.”

I smile like a dork.

“Well thank you.”

“No problem. I knew it’s your favorite place to eat so I figured I’d text in an order of your favorite dessert.”

“You’re to kind. Really. May I ask the reason?”

The delivery guy reaches my door and hands me the food with a note.

“Enjoy mam.”

“Thank you.”

I make it back into my apartment closing the door behind me. I set the food down on the kitchen counter and open the note.

“Reason? I don’t need one. I know it’s your favorite. Enjoy <3” I read.

“Thank you.” I managed to get the words out of my mouth though he had taken my breath away, again.

“Mind if we video call?” He asks.

“Not at all.”

I rush to get my laptop that’s sitting on my living room coffee table. It’s kind of odd that I haven’t gotten used to all this, to him, and it’s already been about two months. We’re both enjoying our treats without keeping track of time. Before we know it’s already way past our bed time. We say our goodbyes and I start getting ready for bed,excited about lunch the next day.

My morning goes on as usual, breakfast, meet Josie at the bus stop, she hands me my coffee and we chitchat about nothing at all. We get into our building and we say our see you at lunch as usual. As I reach the office door I am greeted by Layla who already has a smile on her face.

“Good morning!”

“Morning Layla. How’d you sleep?” “Oh I slept fine! Despite the neighbors dog barking at everything the wind moved I slept good.”

“That’s good! You ready to put what I taught you yesterday to practice?”

“Oh yes ma’am!”

“Now Layla, stop. I told you not to call me that. Evelyn would be alright.”

“Oh okay!”

“Say, Layla, Why don’t you come have lunch with me and my friend who works in the design department today? I’d really like for you to meet her!”

“Oh really?! That would be great! Thank you!”

“No problem! Now let’s get this work done before Chae shows up and nags at us.”

Lunch hour gets here sooner than we both expected. I grab my purse and nearly drag Layla out the door on our way to the lunch lounge where Josie is waiting. As we approach the lounge I can see Josie waiting on us with her back turned to the hall.

“Josie!” I exclaim in excitement.

She turns around and when her eyes meet Layla her mouth immediately drops opened.

“Oh my gosh. Layla?!” Josie exclaims in pleasant surprise.

“What.. y’all two know each other?!”

“Yes! We went to school together! Graduated the same class! This is crazy!”

Josie and Layla exchange hugs and greetings before all three of us run into the lounge.

“This is insane. Who would have known! And I was nervous y’all would probably not like each other at first.” I say as we reach our usual spot.

Layla and Josie seem to have been close at some point by the way they communicated with each other, like two best friends who had lost touch but didn’t have any trouble catching each other up after meeting for the first time in what probably was like forever. I watch and listen while stuffing my face, Josie doing a good job of keeping me in the conversation, making sure I didn’t feel left out.

We finish up our meals and start heading back to our designated areas, before Layla and I parted from Josie we all decided to make plans to grab dinner together after work. We’ve only got 3 hours left and Layla and I can’t seem to get our work done fast enough.

“So.. where are we going to go grab dinner?” Layla asked right as we were walking to clock out.

“Well there’s this good, cheap restaurant that’s mine and Josie’s favorite not too far from here. It’s actually on the way to our bus stop.”

“Sounds great! I’m so excited, you have no idea how much I’ve missed my friends! Well I don’t have many friends, but the few I do have are great people!”

“That’s great! I hope I’m one of those friends!”

“Well yes of course!!”

All three of us leave the building together and make our way down the street to the restaurant. The hours seem to fly by as we are all lost in conversation and before we know it it’s 30 minutes till close. Just as we’re about to leave I get a text from Mia

“Ev, you’ll never guess what just happened to me! Meet me at my place?! Please! If you have time!!”

“Sure! Be there in 20!”

“Who was that Seo...yeon..?” Exclaimed Josie, catching herself just in time not to say Jin’s name in front of Layla. My eyes widen a bit, I could feel my entire body get tense at the almost spill Josie had.

“What? No. No. It’s Mia she wants me to meet her at her house. Said she’s got something to tell me. I guess I’ll catch you guys later? Layla you stored my number right?!”

“Yes of course!”

“Great! See you guys later!”

I wave them goodbye as I start to make my way to the subway station. My mind starts to trail off wondering what it is that was so urgent Mia had to tell me. It couldn’t of been about the guys, they aren’t due back for about another week, and they are probably very busy seeing since Jin hadn’t been able to text me much all day. The train reaches my stop and just as I step out of the doors my phone goes off.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been extremely busy today. I miss you. Get some rest. Text you when I can.” I read.

And just like that I smile like an idiot, he never fails in making my heart skip a beat.

“You got here faster then I thought.” Mia said as she greeted me at her door.

“Subway wasn’t as busy as I thought it would be. What was it you had to tell me?”

“Wait. Come. Sit.” Mia said as she grabbed my arm and dragged me to the living room, her face glowing. She pushes me down on the couch and I sit there, waiting in anticipation of what I’m about to hear, staring at a wide eyed, flushed faced,smiling, glowing Mia.

“Tae!” She exclaimed after a few seconds of us just looking at each other. I really wasn’t expecting this.

“What? What about him?”

“You know how I told you my boss scheduled me to be off two days in a row on accident? Well Tae knew about it and he did the sweetest thing ever!”

I braced myself as she started to tell me about her incident with Tae, knowing I was about to be here for a while.

“He texted me yesterday around noon telling me to get ready and I was all like ‘Why?’ and he just responded with ‘You’ll see’. I didn’t know what to get ready for so all I did was dress casually. You know, just threw on some jeans, a T-shirt, and my vans. Well about an hour after he tells me to get ready I hear a knock on the door and I freak out cause I think it’s him, but then I realize it can’t be him cause they are like super busy. So I go answer the door and it’s some random dude in all black. He told me he received a call to come pick me up but he couldn’t say where he was taking me, which kinda sketched me out a bit, but then he confirmed he was with the BigHit so I grabbed my purse, locked the door, and followed him. So I’m in the car and I text Tae and I’m like ‘What’s going on?’ And he was all like ‘Can’t say. It’s a surprise.’ And I’m over here stressing, not really, it’s just I don’t know what to expect. So then the car stops and I look up and we’re AT THE AIRPORT! The driver sees the confused look on my face and he just laughs and says I have the jet waiting on me and I just look at him. Then these ladies come to take me to the jet and tell me to enjoy my flight and what not and I’m over here thinking how I didn’t pack or anything, all I have were the clothes I was wearing! Like I wish he would of said ‘Pack lightly’ or something but no! So, anyway, we’re in the air for about an hour so I get curious and look out the window only to see that we were about to land on Jeju. We land and I step out and there he is, waiting for me with Tannie! Like what?! I thought they were you know busy or something. Turns out he convinced his manager to give him a day off and let him fly to Jeju. So he takes me to this really nice restaurant by the beach for lunch. Well we kinda walk Yeontan through this really pretty garden type park to get to the restaurant cause it was like right there. It was so beautiful, Ev. We were just walking, holding hands and watching Tannie be his cute self. I got a bit chilly, but I didn’t say anything but he seemed to notice cause next thing I know he’s throwing his sweater over my shoulders. Anyway, we get to the restaurant and we eat and have an awesome little lunch date. And then after that he takes me to their place in Jeju and all we did was watch Spider-Man movies! We also played with YeonTan a bit. But, Ev, we just laid there, cuddling and watching movies and he was the sweetest. And then we end up falling asleep together and he woke me up this morning in the sweetest way possible. He even got Jin to text him the recipe to a really delicious breakfast, That he brought to me in bed! You have no idea how crazy awesome it was!” She finishes with a thriller sigh. It was as she was living the whole thing again, I could tell by the way her eyes glistened with every word.

“Oh dang.. that’s so sweet!”

“I know! Anyway I think I kept you way too long! We both got work tomorrow morning.”

“Oh my goodness! You’re right. Hey, by any chance did he mention when they were coming back?”

“Yeah, he said sometime next Friday, if all goes well. They should be home for about two weeks or so.”

“Well that’s good! Also, I made a new friend I’m dying for all of you to meet! Well Josie already knows her, but she is great!”

“Nice! Maybe this weekend? If we’re all free that is.”

“Yeah! So far I have no plans, and I don’t think Josie has anything planned. I’ll mention it to them tomorrow at lunch!”

“Okay just let me know. Text me when you get home please! Love you!”

“Love you too Mia!”

I wave goodbye and as I turn to make my way to the subway station, my mind trailing off again. Mia is so lucky, their relationship isn’t open to the public yet, but for some reason Tae manages to convince people to let him have time with Mia. He’s a sweetheart. Guess he takes after his hyungs.

“He intimidates me.”

Was the first thing Mia had said about him after the first time we actually hung out with the guys. I knew those two would end up together though, ever since she walked up to that table at the restaurant she caught Tae’s attention. The rest of us, well who knows, only time will tell.

[vanishing-hour]

7:15, upon the sounding of Weiss’ Passacaglia:

You are not the person you used to be - you cannot become the person you once were. You are you as you wake up each day — you are you as you choose to live and through how you choose to create and depict yourself.

A SELF-FASHIONED MASS OF CREATION. STOP.

TAKE IT AS IT COMES. STOP.

8:37, upon receiving a text message:

If we conceive of products of industry as armaments designed to further alienate us from society, then the following becomes clear:

We speak more than ever, but no longer to each other. All our voices become lost in the mediating process, refracted and abstracted via industrially formed communicative mediums. These mediums operate under the veneer of connectedness, but are ultimately concerned with seeking power and control; their overseers shape and direct our discourse, establishing parameters within which the illusory conceptions of freedom of expression and individuality arise. From what was once the lack of ego, there is now the “I” of power; “I” speaks power and “I” is power. To speak as a subject, to converse and relay opinions is necessarily to universalise one’s own subjectivity. To have an opinion is necessarily to disengage, to dislike, to negate the world from which we arise. What “I” say, what the “I” speaks applies to all. To remove the I, however, to remove the subject is to remove ourselves. If one is to stand around a corner, the other side of the wall does not exist until one has taken the steps towards it. No, but this depends on experience not the reality (?) that exists within the mind. What would then happen, say, if another is standing around the corner? The confrontation of two universalised subjectivities - four in a house. Two-hundred on any given street. One-thousand in a neighbourhood. Intersection. Six billion possible confrontations.

10:33, upon stepping outside, a sketch, a sensation, sensibility:

Are we not gifted with some unique kind of spatial memory that transcends temporal borderlines? What else can explain a certain area or city as feeling like ‘home’ or a place where one can entirely belong and melt away into the sounds of passing cars, doors opening, and a jug falling off the side of a ruined outdoor table setting?

Barthes paraphrases Socrates and mentions the atopos — the undefinable, the unclassifiable, but if there is more than one place that will feel like home in the course of one’s life, then is there a classifiable type that appeals to an individual’s disposition?

10:35, upon the viewing of a poster:

A humanely humorous work of anti-war sentiment operating under the veneer of poetry.

11:44, noticing my thoughts to be distinct from my words:

It is an indescribable feeling that looms over me; almost resembling a visceral feeling of dread and utter helplessness. It has overcome me before, but this is noticeably different; a hollowness, a constricting echo chamber. While for the moment I am relatively pain free, I am fearful that it is only a transitory and furtive moment of respite in and amongst the vicissitudes of life. I feel as if a friendship that is true and pure should not bog itself down with the kinds of preconceptions regarding their own natures.

For the moment, all that keeps me alive is the hope that I may one day experience something other than the Black.

Why must I not speak? What have I allowed myself to become? Poor, poor Lion of the West - dethroned and thrown into the wilderness to fend, naked and alone! Woe!

15:13, a storm approaches, looking forward toward a night without stars:

When looked at from a glance of time above,

Our births are but a sleepy forgetting

Our lives, a brief wait in the drawing room

Our deaths, the final debts we all must pay.

To seek below that which rests in the heart of Man,

Wait only you can thro the pangs and darts

That life so readily inflicts.

Wait you must, no other choice you have,

Till the hour at which you will greet our Artifex.

16:21, on the remembrance and return of pain:

The following applies to all things: when we lose something, it is not the absence of the thing in itself that grieves us, but how the object itself made us feel. Once more, it is the return of the ego. Εγώ. The subject-object relation. Unbreakable. “To grieve something is inherently a selfish act” it has been said.

The same can be said of illness and the loss of one’s bodily autonomy.

But how to deal with it, then?

Remember that what you have control over are your thoughts, opinions, and perceptions regarding external events. What if I am self-contained? Existing solely within myself?

Find new ways to relive those emotional sensations and impressions, but remember them for what they are: ephemeral, fleeting, and passing moments of time that plague the one who forgets we are caught in a position of vulnerability that is not quite possessive of tomorrow yet certain of our time in the yesterday.

Unbound.

16:50, the key is to read and apply both:

YB BH MJ GN AC UC BH AH AC GI IZ. STOP.

20:55, the night music of the streets of the city:

It is night; the street is filled with the sounds of music emanating from small windows above the bar opposite. It sounds terrible. A mass of offensive white noise. Perhaps Adorno could decipher its meaning. I just shudder at the thought. Boisterous chatter from the tables beside me, it is the season of Advent, after all. At once, the chair is pushed, sirens rush past, and the raucous screams of inebriated youths pierce my own version of silence.

Heart rate increases. Throat closes. Hands cover the forehead and slide down the face. The body trembles. Overstimulation does not equate to the overwhelming feeling of sensory overload. I take a stand, though an unconfident one. Back streets get me home. I get into bed (notice the iceberg). Perhaps with sleep the new morning will bring solace (?).

12:35, upon regarding the seeping moonlight dimly illuminating the form of my immediate surroundings:

I read somewhere that if we are to exist as foils for the world, to capture and measure its bounds and edges, then it must first be shown that the world itself possesses its very own form. I lift my knee and the blanket itself changes material form, but does not lose its blanketing quality. There are far too many facets to understand. What of the unreliability of the senses? I can barely see through the darkness, yet my mind knows there to be a form to the room, to the outside. But what of conceivability as probability? In the moment before I open my front door, there is sunshine, hail, rain, and darkness all simultaneously occurring on the planes of (meta)physical existence. But what of the open door? What of he who knocks at the door? I have not seen them, but my mind knows someone to be there. Can I trust it?

4:53, the sun is due to rise in opposition to the Moon which remains luminary and steadfast. Two eternal glows.

A fumble in the dark.

The postcard from her reads “c’est la nuit qu’il est beau de croire à la lumière”. It is from Edmond Rostand, from which book I still do not know. I have not asked. I have never needed to know. I am understanding the evolution of myself, of my mind. Reading those lines seven months ago instilled in me a feeling of expansive ease, as if the distance travelled by the postcard was the unit of measurement by which I could measure and quantify my own sentiments.

Sudden elation.

The heart warms, mellows in this body (this mass of self-fashioned creation).

Now I am not so sure I’d agree.

It is still night and I am seeing this light she speaks about, it is beautiful to witness, pretty to think about. The illumination of form, of my form, of the bed, of the room, of the outside. To witness the celestial brilliance of both heavenly glows should surely bring solace.

7:15, upon the sounding of Weiss’ Passacaglia:

I am reminded of the guilt — of those I have hurt in some way, of those I continue to hurt in thinking such things, in allowing such thoughts to persuade my actions. To go on living as feeling undeserving of the quiet elation one encounters in life — to disbelieve in the possibility of satisfaction and doing well by and for others. My back seizes as I try to lift my torso from out of the bed which for the last nine months has come to represent the antithesis of sleepy forgetting and nightly respite and rejuvenation. Instead, the idea of sleep only guarantees the swiftness of the passing night and the subsequent resurrection of feeling.

“Surely the work of demons! What else?”

Is this to be looked forward to?

[loveunbreakable-blog1]

Chapter 4

It was almost morning when we left the pub. Somehow I felt free. I felt just like a 19-year-old drunk. In that moment I was just someone trying to go home. No dreamer. Just a girl in a bar and that was exactly what I was looking for. Freedom. Not belonging to anything. Being the owner of my own life. The owner of my own directions. Not the girl taken by some dream. In that moment I was no one. And I was glad about it.

Thais took me home. She wasn’t drunk after all. And I? Well I couldn’t even stand by myself. I live alone in a nice apartment in the heart of the city so it was impossible to get some sleep during the day but not that day. Thais arranged to get me in the house and she dragged me out to the guests’ room cause obviously she couldn’t take me upstairs by herself.  I was so off that I slept through all the noise. Thais decided not to leave me alone cause I was in no conditions to do anything and she was worried I could do something stupid and that’s exactly what I would do if I was alone. I’m sure.

I slept the whole day and when I woke up I had a terrible headache. I couldn’t even remember what happened the night before. I looked around and then I saw her sleeping in the couch next to the guests bed. How the hell did we get there? What the hell happened? In that moment I has some flashes of the night before. Hangover. That’s what happened. I tried to go to the kitchen as quiet as possible. I didn’t want to wake her after all. She took care of me the whole night and I was glad she was still there with me.

When I got into the kitchen I saw she had prepared some coffee. So I got my favorite mug and had some. My head was a mess. I couldn’t remember everything and I was getting these flashes of the night before and it was making my headache even worse. I decided to go upstairs and take a shower. Try to look like a human being again. It was almost 4 in the afternoon and I was really hungry but I decided to take a shower first.

As soon I was a human being again I went downstairs Thais was still asleep and I decided to see what we could have for dinner in the kitchen. Well. The only thing I found there was a really old bottle of wine. But the thought of it made me sick. I was still trying to recover from the night before so I wasn’t planning drinking anytime soon.

-          Ready for the next one? - I almost dropped the bottle when I saw Thais next to the kitchen door.

-          You scared me hahaha

-          Sorry

-          But no. I’m not ready for it – I said putting back the bottle where I found.

-          I was thinking about calling for some Chinese food. What do you think?

-          I don’t know I have to go home. It’s been almost two days and you know… I still live with my parents.

-          Yep. I forgot this detail. So I guess you should go.

-          Probably. I just stayed to make sure you were gonna be alright.

-          You didn’t have to. But thanks anyway. I am glad you stayed.

-          Me too. I gotta go know.

And I was alone again. People asked me why a 19-year-old “kid” was doing living alone. What happened? The answer was simple. Life happened. I never met and never wanted to meet my father. I used to live with my mom and my grandparent but I decided I couldn’t do it anymore. I needed some space. And I told her she could live with me if she wanted but I needed some privacy. I needed my own life. Stupid kid you can thing. Yeah. But you have no idea the problems this stupid kid was facing. Anyways. She decided to stay with them and I went away. I always worked as a designer and last year I got the job at the company. That’s how I ended up living alone.

I don’t know if it was the right decision yet. But I certainly know that things seem to be working out better now. My own space to think and especially to sing. Singing is not a thing you can do very often when you live with elderly people and especially when one of them don’t like music at all. So that’s basically why I left. I live for music and I was suffocating there. I was destroying myself every time I opened my mouth to sing something and she told me to shut up. Don’t get me wrong. I love my family. My mom was the person that discovered I could sing. She was the one who made me realize that. And maybe that’s why I left too. Because she was a reminder of all I could do and till know I didn’t do. I guess I will never know for sure. All I know is that I needed some space. And now that I got my space I feel like I’m making a mess of it.

With all this confusion in my mind I completely forgot where I left my phone. So I started to look for it all over the house. Until I found it under the bed in the guests’ room. When I turned it on it was filled with messages.

Mom Where are you? Are you okay? Have you been eating? I haven’t heard from you in a while. I’m here if you need anything. Love you.   Peter Hey. Are you still there? I am sorry for everything that happened between us. I miss you a lot. I wish I could take back all the things I said.   Tiffany Hi Jackie I was wondering if you wanna go somewhere tonight. I don’t know. Have some fun. I saw you were pretty upset yesterday. If you need to hang out just call me.   Unknown number Hi cuttie this is Josh we met at the pub yesterday. One of the guys who work there gave me your number. Do you wanna go out?

 I just wanted to ignore all of them but I couldn’t. So I answered mom and Tiffany.

 Mom

Mom, I am okay and yes I have been eating. You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll try to call you more. Sorry. Love you too.

Tiffany

Hi. I don’t feel like going out now. Sorry.

 Tiffany what one of those people you can’t trust. She worked at the company with me and Thais. She wasn’t a designer yet. She was just in her internship and she is those kind of people who would do anything to rise. Even use their bosses’ fragility like she was trying to do now.

I couldn’t even remember who this Josh was so I decided not to answer him. Peter was another problem. A problem I didn’t want to go deeper now so I just ignored him.

I went to my bedroom and turned the computer on. I needed to write again. To let all those feelings go.

 Dear Jamie,

I feel lonely and afraid. People around me say I will never feel better if I keep hiding inside. But they don’t really know what I am feeling. They don’t have the feeling of every muscle of your body telling you: You need to stay home. Telling you: You should keep your distance. Even though I wanna go out and party with people I just don’t feel it in my heart. Should I do what people tell me? Or Should I just follow my depression. I know my friends just want to see me well. I know they want me to get better but right know things are only going deeper and deeper.

People will never understand what’s really on the inside, it’s too complex and too dark to explain and even those who watch close enough can’t see what happened in the past. And the simple fact that I can’t tell anyone is a burden I have to carry all by myself. The fact no one knows is simple one more reason to keep hiding. To keep it safe so no one can use this against you. Dangerous secrets. Secrets that fuck up with your psychologic. These are the kind of secrets I keep with me. Secrets people would try to seek for justice and punishment and I would probably do it too if I weren’t too afraid to talk about them. These are the kind of things I wake up in the morning and have to face every day. When I look at the mirror I can’t just hide the marks. My eyes carry them everywhere I go. Anyone who take a look at me can see it. Inside my eyes there’s only one thing. The only thing that still burns inside. I was powerless. What could I do? What could I say? So I just carry all this sadness around. Trying hard not to show it but with no success. People care superficially they never want to go deep. They just care until it starts to bother them and when it does they choose to look away. Pretend they never knew about that cause it’s easier to move on. They only care about their own suffering and that’s it. Why spend the whole night talking to someone who’s feeling down when I can just do something productive? I guess that’s the first thought in their minds. Why should I care if she’s giving herself all these feelings when she’s not even trying? She’s just doing this to get the attention. If she really wants to get better she has to step up and do something.

The thing they don’t see is that you’re too tired to fight you’re exhausted of losing. Exhausted of being bitten time and time again. They don’t see you bleeding. No one suffers because they want to suffer. No one feels pain for fun. There’s something deeper in each person. It’s not the simple fact of getting people’s attention cause I really don’t give a damn about it. It’s the fact you can’t fight anymore. So you stand by. You wait and hope someday you will heal a bit and then start fighting again. You fight. Because that’s the only option you have. You just wish you are strong enough to let it all go.

People just wanna know the reasons why you’re behaving that way. They wanna know what happened and how things happened. They get curious over something they shouldn’t. You don’t need to know all the reasons to help someone. You don’t need to understand everything to be at their side. Who says truth is beauty after all? Who says the truth is gonna make things easier? Who says it’s gonna help? Cause everything it does is hurt even more. Knowing the truth and not being able to do anything. That’s the worst pain of all.

Love you,

Jackie

[chinad]

in thick dirt.

Jan 13, 2018

last night dirty spying eyes pestered me a lot. I saw lots of sexual scenarios, esp my familiar individuals around me, like dorm canteen operative woman, a staff of the canteen to whom my laundry outsourced. Its normal dusk when I went to canteen. When I felt good I asked some wine from the operative woman & handed over ￥5 as reward. I just want to be joyful & sharing my gratitude. Then sexual emotion likely aroused in the dorm canteen, esp in the 2 women. After dinner I went to joy as usual. On the road I saw lots of sexual scenes mindfully I once experienced when in doomed love which broke me up back to 2001 when I left Qiqihar to Nankai Univ, Tianjin, seeking my master degree. I know mostly women there love me, and I sometimes inspired by them. But I dislike unreal sex esp out of my loved one. I always pray for my peaceful soul partner, not indecent ones. That heaps of unblessed illusions reminded me this week an elder man I didn't know approached me in my dusk jog twice. He likely the husband of an elder woman who frequented me in my jog and some cases when I on way to visit my son 3 bus stop away. Every time she rode a bike. I at once thought in her elder what business can she have for such a busy route. Especially a time on my way to visit my son, she rested aside street and acquainted me. I just wonder how she made a living wilder around the street. I quit curiosity at once, as none of my business in that moment of probing mind. Now I'm almost sure that the insane elder woman in her show cheating me out her stalking me. Each time she talked to me, her husband, the old gay would appeared in my jog and trying talk to me, but I just reckoned him among QRRS workers once known me for I worked once in their factories soon after I employed, and never lingered more in my mind as unpleasant nod. Now I know the man's real ID. In this week after the insane woman acquaintance on her evasive riding away in my jog, the man stealthily pushed his way aside me arbitrarily, each time in dark area of my route. First time he claimed he noticed me watching my watch, which I never did. I mistaken him as passenger ask for time, so I search my pants pocket for watch to help me, the coward at once exiled, likely thought weapons in my pocket. After 2 days disappeared, he approached me again in front of QRRS square, claimed he noticed my usual route against normal people's there exercise, trying selling his research of me, or proof of his stalking. I just noticed aside a car turning around and the gay shamed then scattered again. I never looked him nor look back. The dirty illusive scenes all likely exerted by the sinful couples, they abused my well behavior. From my poor mother's grass root, I always resolved for poor diligent women, but didn't know the difference between normal elder woman's life, and those of out of shape. Last night I struggled to escape the fallen & dishonored, till I research my chromebook's replacement, new chromebook with android apps. I found amazon China selling this kind of products usually blocked within PRC. In the night I dreamt a lot purchasing the 2 notebooks for my son & my own notebook evolvement. I dreamt fought in sea with 2 battleship with same name derived from new chromebook I found at the e-commercial website. I saw fighting area on their functional dissected deck. When my son & I almost purchased the notebook, I woke up for the emptiness of wanting. God, dad, grant us sooner to have new set of chromebook for our workspace. Bring me sooner my Royal China, esp Asoh Yukiko, my Crown Queen from Japan. Grant us sanctum of love & privacy. Put self-esteem among people I concerned. In the lunar new year eve, grant us securer ownership over our adorable domains, ie renewal.

Jan 4, 2018

dreamt of Elon Musk, or Chinese version of Musk. he interviewed us from job applicant. then we take care of his family: his wife and his only son. an older staff also attending his family. his house in a lofty mountainous architecture, we have to clime in risk to reach it. when we returned to his house, the old staff throw Musk's boy onto a floating cushion, for no other shortcut to transport the kid bare hand in the harsh environment. even dangerous but the boy safely landed onto his house. Musk also challenged us with his famous product design. last night a bit relentless. after dinner in canteen, I first time felt hungry & dorm gate snack vendor out of service. so I bought myself a bread and ate it deliciously after dusk jog & watching TV in my dorm. then I reviewed recent talk to my 2nd elder sister. how she hated me & faked orthodox. I told her about world food crisis report online, she at once responded if I take pills recently. last time decade ago she forced me into asylum with plot with my other siblings, ignored dedicated cares healing. she is a coward, not only she married with a beast and suffered regret all life, also she currently trying push our niece into marriage with her nephew who likely a poor gay. she found her family doomed then tried her best to help attending my kid brother's first son, who turned out much less educated, and left her second son, also a cheap soul, followed my kid brother and successfully earning a life in southern China as my kid brother, and seized himself a tall girl as trophy wife from peasants labor flood there. she consumed my old family so many credit & merit to save her cheap family she once hopelessly sold herself into when she getting old & dependent to my eldest sister who committed suicide in her 30' partially caused by the kid sister who stayed awkwardly in my eldest sister's house after her senior middle school my parents hardly supported. she totally a betrayer & cowardice. then I reviewed all my brilliance lightened so many people in my living sphere, esp my home town villagers, my siblings, our relatives. my powerful influence was a gift of my era, my national atmosphere in which we believe in growth, scientific, and moral uprising under God's shine, ie. Christian, out of people's self-esteem. I saw society mindset and its efforts in molding reality for generations, and my development as the chosen. I review my failing siblings and praying forgiveness, exactly for their painful giving: hurt in guise. I reviewing love of my 3rd elder sister since childhood put me in peace so many decades. our road towards independence past and ahead. God dad, yesterday I almost first time felt panic of hunger. grant me anxious free upon food security. fed me with clean food & safe life. bring me sooner my Royal China and new family in which I likely bring one more child. God dad, bring me my Crown Queen, Asoh Yukiko from Japan, when it matters us. dad, grant us a peaceful and merry lunar new year.

Jan 1, 2018

first dreamt in school. the subject of experiment is to distill starch from stem, for final bean curd or jelly separated from paper tissue. then found I was studying my Doctor degree course. my old family members mostly proud of me. I likely in vacation and visiting my old family's relatives at hometown, Zhudajiu village or local municipal, Wuxue. then found my purse missing. I was very concerned. then my 2 elder sisters help me search in fields for it. we exam carefully every inch of earth, hoping find it back. I was so distressed that I woke up for it and found at once I didn't miss it, but now I can't figure out how my property safe in reality while when I just exit from dream, I know dreamy concern dissolved. This is first day of 2018. after 3 hours I will bring my son to dine out in Qiqihar downtown via groupon and aid financially by alipay credit. the holiday approached so quietly that I didn't prepare. I barely borrow ￥150 for usual weekend reuniting my son from QRRS Dorm canteen. after found my mistake, I search web carefully using the virtual credit to buy service online to make ends meet. in half day I setup alipay, Meituan on my raspberry pi and ordered 3 meals in cyberspace. yesterday we dined dico's franchise. on bus I prayed God allowing our coupon working and our holiday won't run short of cash. when we got there, there were not crowd. our groupon handled perfectly. we enjoy the meal so much. in fact, my deficit of meat healed quickly. I told my son Warren Buffett advises that youth should refrain from debt, and how Taiwan people inspire me, including dico's service. I urged him we are blessed to visit the franchise more frequent for it's just in its wane due to PRC economic hard problem, and eroded customer base among both richer Chinese and average Chinese family, for expenditure power just wears away in sinking PRC. I felt lucky to be served by the fast food chain in time when it's still graceful, and sale girls still so decent. I also told my son how I satisfied by my charity activity to offer a laid-off motorcycle worker begging for his hard life alongside street, on way my visiting my son, with ￥5: how its cost efficient & my emotional sanctified. after luncheon, we hangout in RT-Mart for my shampoo & toothpaste. my son definitely refused buying goods for him. so we only spend about 60 CNY there, among heavy carts and long queue of people at checkout. dad God, this week I will arrange installment with alipay credit. promise us smooth operation, grant us to complete paying back credit in time in coming year 2018. bring me sooner my Royal China, and my Crown Queen from Japan, Asoh Yukiko, for my lonely post mid age. grant us more offspring, esp Billing Zhu 's role in anticipated capable of billing, harmony with the Holy. God dad, in this pale morning, You ignite me with this post, let 2018 burning brighter & enlightened.

Dec 25, 2017

dreamt at my hometown village my passed mother sent me among other new enrolled undergraduates into college. my 2nd elder sister also prepared my package at home. there were near dozen of youth passed the entrance exam & enrolled. my nephew, ie. my 2nd elder brother's first son, also the lucky one. I query the richer family's kid, if he travel by airline. most kid will go to their campus via train, while I already had experience by air with my son recent years which let me proud, but I likely took train for poor economy. most of the village kids carried rice in bag. my family also prepared me rice in bag for dispatching, but I managed to persuade my relatives gave up for campus canteen does offer the food. it's touching moment for my elder brother's children never complete their senior education in reality. This is a cloudy morning. I at first felt gloomy, for last week I refrained from my son's anticipated joy of new SWAT suit, and a new pair of boots amid our cyber shopping. but my son likely didn't feel it, at least he didn't refute the spitting coward, the grandma's scorn of coat's qualifies being heavier from put on at once the new clothes' arrival, and also his new boots didn't put on right & sluggy for he didn't leave the high ankle standing, likely his mom & grandma refused guiding him. our only meal together in a week, in the downtown hotel restaurant, also disappointing for it cheatingly remove our once ordered dish with rich meat, replaced with poor quality & quantity meat, after some relentless exchange viewpoint upon our insisted tips for the gorgeous dining hall & cuisine in months. that reminded me time to shift away now that our tips left the hotel boss at a loss. but fortunately our salon buzzed in half hour ago, the shop owner settled our missing renewal in July & admit our membership extends nearly 5 months, values ￥200 after dispute arose last week. that affirms my faith in goodness, understandability of hearts. God, dad, even this month salary removed near ￥400 from usual standard, I still believe year end bonus will surprise me. now new year day of 2018 just a week away, and this wonderful christmas, dad God, reinforce us with plentiness and supportive, remove vain in our materialism seasonal heart. grant me treating my son in next weekend KFC or Mcdonald's or Dico's. shelter us from needy & wanting, instead warm us by powerful & functional of our new gears, esp from US & google. thx Dad.

via Blogger http://ift.tt/2FATI43

[jb00ri-blog]

Thursday, January, 19, 2017 Yesterday i did not blog, i woke up after 12pm because i was sick and i allowed myself to stay in bed, i had slept late the night before. Since i woke up i felt that things were not right, my mood was swinging all over the place and i couldn't focus on any task. This was a familiar feeling but I had not felt like this in a long while . Why now !? Thinking about it now, i think i noticed a pattern, for the past 2-3 weeks i have been waking up by 9 am MAX , mostly i was waking up around 7 am. I was sleeping before mid night also , around 11-12am MAX . That day i stayed up late, i slept between 3-4 am and woke up between 12-1 pm . And its as if everything was a mess ! Just today i stumbled upon a video by Elliott Hullse ( https://youtu.be/b0H-FJNjdOI ) he was talking of how the human body is designed to sleep with sun set and wake up with sun rise . There is a relationship between what time of the day it is and what kind of hormones are released in the body, for example Anabolic hormones are released in the body after sun set when it gets dark, if you are sleeping at that time you will get the benifits of this hormones and your body will work at its full potential. However if you are UP when Night time hormones are released and ASLEEP when Morning hormones are released, meaning your sleep cycles are not matching your hormonal cycles , this might cause some problems . Mood swings, inability to foucus, low energy, higher stress levels and even weight gain or loss in extream cases ! All these symptoms could be linked to bad sleeping patterns and can be corrected if one only takes care of their sleep/wake cycles . The rule of thumb is to try and sleep as soon as possible after the sun sets, definitely before midnight! . And waking up as soon as possible after the sun rises ! . Farmers actually follow this, they sleep once it starts to get dark and rise with dusk ! This is related to their physical and mental health. I know that it is hard to be that exact with sleeping especially if your circumstances does not help! , however if your sleeping patterns are chaotic, and you tend to feel Mood swings, inability to foucus, low energy, and high stress levels, know that these two things could be related and you might want to try working on getting to bed early and waking up early also . I don't know about you but I definitely feel the difference myself . When i sleep early and wake up the next day early, after getting like 7-8 hours of sleep, i feel sharp , foucused, on point, and my mood is generally at a far better and more positive place . And vice versa . I thought to share this with you to poin your attention to this subject, if you made it till here thann you for reading. ❤️

[rueur]

Morning Pages No. 58

Friday 21st August - 9:01am Man, I was so hoping that I could say the time was exactly 9am when I started typing, but alas I had to erase yesterday’s text and set up the start of the page. I actually still haven’t even changed the No. of the page to today’s number, so I have to do that before I continue any further. Okay done! 

I just opened the front door to let Lonzo and Nicky out for a little bit this lovely, sunny morning, and am sitting where I usually sit at the dining table, in front of my whiteboard, typing with my back straight and enjoying the calm and quiet of this morning, before my jam-packed afternoon starts. I have a chat scheduled with Sam McDonald at 3pm, and then a class with Dinel at 4:30-5:30, then a chat with Dan scheduled from 6 till whatever time that ends, hopefully that doesn’t go on for too long, but we’ll see what happens. I was planning on using some of the morning to maybe play around with SquareSpace, or however you capitalise it, and see what I can do on Julie’s new site design. It’s going to be pretty fun, I know, but just getting started is a little bit daunting. I haven’t even sent her my invoice for last month! I know I have to do that too. It’s just $60 for the whole month of July, because honestly all I did was handle the domain transfer and set up the new hosting account, and her emails. I’ll charge her another $60 for that time I went to her house, and put a clock on the work that I do on the new site design today, that is if I start today. It’s good to have some mental space set aside to work this stuff out. Freelancing is hard! It demands that you know your own worth, and most of the time creative freelancers have faced many many rejections when applying for ACTUAL jobs, so we typically tend to undervalue ourselves anyway. But I suppose I shouldn’t look at this as a cruel piece of irony, more than it is an opportunity to learn how to value myself at what is honestly still the start of my career. I’ve thought about the possibility of working enough freelance jobs and using Sam (boss man) as a resource until I get familiarised enough with the digital marketing and web development industries and can open up my own agency, maybe with Mundell as my head of web development, and me as the head of content and communications. It’s a pipedream for now, because I don’t know if that’s a dream Mundell might want too. But one thing I am certain of is that it’d allow us to work for our own damn selves, and I feel like life would be busy, but very very good. We’ll see what the future holds in store, I suppose.

Lonzo’s looking out the window right now, and now he’s just decided to go back out the open front door. It is genuinely a beautiful day. I’m fighting the urge to go for a walk, but also fuck it I should be able to go for a walk if I want to go for a walk! The grass is still quite long in the front yard, but I’m still loving it. The sunlight is shining right through the longer strands and it looks like the floor is glowing. I feel like I’m in a video game on a very sunny day. It’s sad that I used video games to describe the majesty of the natural world, when video games are merely an ambitious reflection of reality. I just googled ‘Slytherin traits’ to try and remember the world ‘ambitious’ just then, lord almighty. I’ve been spending far too much time inside, and I know it and I hate it. But okay, yeah, so I will in fact go for a walk today. Maybe with Evan, if he’s keen. If I allow him to go stoned, he’ll probably be keen.

I have to do some yoga at some point today because Day 4 of Sarah’s 21 Days is ten minutes of mindful stretching. I was going to do it last night, I almost did about ten minutes worth at work, but I wasn’t happy with a half-hearted attempt, so after these pages I’m going to actually set aside some time with some nice soothing music and just really get into some downward facing dog, some warrior poses, and maybe find some other things along the way in a really nice flow. I remember a lot of the yoga poses from Shining Light’s classes, but I don’t know their names. I’m hoping that sometime soon, I can get together with Wren and do some small exercises. As I type this, I honestly don’t know if that is indeed something I want to do. Maybe not sometime soon. Am I a bad friend? Or am I just my own crazy level of fatigued? It’s hard to keep myself a priority when I am always just concerned about my place in the lives of others. To be fair, I am doing this less and less, but it’s not really a positive change if you’re using work as a distraction from this issue, which is also what I feel I’m doing. I work too much, and sometimes it makes me feel like it means I’m not a failure, but in actuality, I’m skimming multiple fields, and not settling on any specific one. It feels like a patch, sometimes. I mean, it feels like my current working habits allow me to stay stagnant and not even realise it, because there’s a sense of busy-ness, and a sense of things moving. But where am I going? Really? I know I shouldn’t be this analytical, this critical, especially right now because I’m still studying! And there’s a freaking pandemic on. It’s not like I can help this. So why do I keep expecting myself to be doing better than I am? I’m jumping the gun. But that’s just how I am. I’m impatient with myself, and patient with everyone else. 

I just took a photo of that last paragraph and wanted to send it to Sarah, but instead I sent it to Wren. Is that meaningful at all? I’m not sure, I feel like maybe I can be totally honest about myself with Wren and Wren won’t judge me for it. I’m genuinely considering putting that last paragraph in the Sarah’s People group chat too, if I’m going to be completely honest. I feel like it may help start up a dialogue that some people may need. If that’s the case, it would kind of be my responsibility to start up this dialogue. 

It’s 9:33am, I took a big pause in this writing to feed the boys breakfast, because Nicky had just come running back in through the front door. And now guess what he’s doing? He’s done eating (for now) and has decided to jump up on the dining table and walk all over the place. He almost sat down, and now he’s jumped off again. What a wild turn of events. I legitimately thought he was going to walk toward me, bop my head and attempt to walk all over the keyboard, which is apparently only what he does when he wants to be fed. Goodness, the way he wakes me up in the morning does my absolute fucking head in. I reckon I might actually post that little paragraph in the Sarah’s People chat. Or at the very least, the other chat with Sarah, Amy, Nichole, and I. I don’t know. I think it’s important to reach out to people right now, and I feel like I need to make more of an effort with the girls. I’m hopeful that once lockdown is over, I’ll be more involved, more present. It helps that Sarah and Amy won’t be going to ACSA anymore. Maybe we’ll be able to find a BJJ place that’s closer to our side of town, or at the very least in a central area.

Evan’s just gotten back from the supermarket, I saw the car pulling into the driveway from the service road. I’m a little bit annoyed that I still haven’t finished these pages, but I’m also grateful for the insight this activity has provided me with today. I can hear Evan talking to the dog, and now he’s opened and has walked through the front door. We’re just talking about the shopping trip he’s just done! What domestic bliss.

Ugh, god. I thought these pages would be a breeze to get through because I woke up feeling pretty energetic this morning, but now it’s slightly depressing to me that it’s 9:43am and I’m still going. This shouldn’t take an hour, this is absurd. I mean, I haven’t been writing the whole time, so I shouldn’t feel too annoyed about this. I mean imagine when we’re older and I have to maintain this practice alongside having kids. It’s going to take me a hell of a lot longer some days, and that should be okay. I shouldn’t be too down on myself about that, because it just means that I’m responsible. I feel like I’m just going to have to start getting into the habit of being more emotionally lenient with myself, before I pile more responsibilities onto my life. I want to be a good mother. I feel that increasingly with every year. But in order to be a good mother (or teacher), you need to have life experience and you need to know what the world is like. My mother didn’t really engage too much with how this world really is, until we were all older. And that’s not her fault, that’s something she had to do for herself, and frankly for us too. She didn’t work so she could raise us, and she moved across the world for our benefit. She moved to a place she knew nothing about and was terrified of engaging with because thathi had to work nights and she was alone A LOT. I cannot even begin to imagine what that must’ve been like. All I know is what life is like for me, and I too have had my fair share of challenges, but I feel as though I’ve adopted a strong enough mindset that when things have happened to me, I’m able to roll with them to an extent, and I’m able to take them on board and use them in my own ongoing personal development. I want to impart that value, the value of endurance and persistence, onto my own children. And I can’t do that if I’m too hard on myself. I want to stretch soon, I’m looking forward to it. But I also want snacks! Snacks after stretches, yeeee!

I’m not sure what to do for the last third or so of this last page. There was a weird moment at work when Manny, Joe, and I were talking about how Evan and I almost did LSD this week (we didn’t, I know I forgot to mention that), and I made a statement on how that desire came out of nowhere from him, and Manny said ‘maybe he just wanted really freaky sex’, and I waved him off...and then revealed that ‘yeah, he actually did mention that’, and the boys howled with laughter and I ran the fuck away to the counter where I chatted with Soph for a bit. And Rob was managing today, and we were able to have a pretty nice conversation for the last half hour or so of the day. I miss him, if I’m being completely honest. I like talking to him more than I like talking to a lot of my coworkers, because I feel like we have a lot in common. But I don’t know what’s going on in his head, and it’s a touch terrifying. I mostly just feel bad. Not guilty or anything, just bad that something as DUMB as sexual tension is keeping us from being friends. I mean...I don’t even know if there even is sexual tension at this point. Fuck.

[unmutedlark-blog]

so i really dropped the ball on getting my medication refilled because i was already in a precarious mental spot and thought ‘hey, we don’t go to the store until saturday. if i can’t make myself walk there by then i’ll just tag along, don’t ask anyone for a ride or admit this happened.’ i’ve gone days without my citalopram before without it being a problem so i thought it’d be cool.

in those cases, i did not continue taking my wellbutrin without the citalopram for several days.

that was not a great move.

first warning sign i should have asked for help was when i was talking to myself way more than usual.

second sign was when i stayed up all night painting this for a prank:

(i had the design in mind way before this little Episode it’s just that i don’t do all nighters)

warning sign that finally made me ask for a ride yesterday was when i caught a brief glimpse of eye contact with myself in my roommate’s shaving mirror in the shower and nearly flipped my shit and couldn’t do anything until i’d gotten it off the wall as fast as possible without looking at it and removed it from the shower

and yeah i figured i’d be fucked up for maybe 12 hours after taking the citalopram and then be cool!

i’m not sure why i thought it would work like that. today has pretty much been:

nightmares nightmares nightmares

wake up angry and scared

go back to bed, weird dreams, ok

wake up to find myself so on edge i nearly hurl my phone across the room because i keep making typos (NOT the kind of shit i have ever done since i was like 5 so that was alarming)

every tiny thing that goes even a little wrong has me spitting out curses under my breath so okay irritability that’s fine ok i got this

make a sandwich, take two bites before i find myself so violently repulsed by the sensation of food in my mouth that i almost can’t choke the bite down. (the rest of the sandwich is still in the fridge and i’m dizzy but so far any food causes the same sensory fuckery so not sure what to do there)

give up go to bed for a while

it’s my job to deal with the kitchen, catboxes, that kinda stuff. i’m the one who decided it’s my job. usually not a problem.

touch a slightly dirty plate in the sink that’s a little wet and almost scream.

okay, not great, can still do this

put on dishwashing gloves. sensation of gloves makes me grind my teeth the entire time i’m working. okay that’s weird, whatever.

stifle panic response to every single tiny scrap of wet food or whatever i see, that damp bit of alfredo sauce ravioli isn’t going to kill me but AAAAAAH

trash smells really bad. almost give up and leave the room to go back to bed.

i got it out of the can, disinfected the can in a terrified fury, now i’m in here trying to make myself put shoes on so i can go outside and take the trash out because HOLY SHIT

still need to sift the catboxes, not sure how to work up the nerve for that one yet so i decided to come puke my personal business all over the internet again

been really on edge about food contamination/spoilage lately and right now i can’t eat any perishables because even when i fucking know they’re fine i bought them yesterday holy shit  nope nope nope can’t do it

i mean perishables or anything else for that matter right now but up till this morning i could eat bread??? 

anyway, i stumbled into having useful connections that are gonna get me into the really good mental health care place here whose waiting list is so long they stopped putting people on it. by really good i mean if you need help with basic out of the house tasks they have advocates that can go with you and if all you need is for them to be within 50 feet for moral support they’ll do it. met one of the guys. seems like a great program. and i know for a fact that while this medication combination was NEVER really the right one for me (the clinic i went to in texas was hell on wheels but that’s for another post entirely) but lately it’s been 100% bullshit insufficient fix it fix it now territory

unfortunately i can’t fucking get to/afford any other psychiatrists in the surrounding fucking towns so i kinda gotta wait on these guys, and my general doctor isn’t comfortable tweaking my meds any more than we already tried with buspar for the anxiety cause it’s not her specialty and my brain chemistry is a jenga tower. i respect that, i get it

but the ball’s in my court right now when it comes to steps to get me in as a patient. i need to get an actual NH id instead of my old texas one. all i need to do now is go get a letter from the apartment offices as a second proof of address since none of the bills in my name, get a haircut cause they’re gonna take my picture and i’m rocking a half-finished haircut from a friend who begged me to let her cut my hair for months only to find halfway through that the clippers were broken, and then i have a ride all lined up, ready to go, whenever, he’s very enthusiastic about helping and working with my schedule!

i just need to go do the things

hell i could get away with just getting the pic done with my awful hair i gotta go back and do the gender marker change shit later anyway and get a new pic if i can

just gotta do a few more things to get into the doctors who can help me but i need that help to do the things so ???

anyway the last step i need to take to get this done is really simple

and here i am paralyzed at the task of putting on shoes and walking down to throw something in the dumpster

someone stop the ride i gotta puke