#my grandma likes to create routines and i think this is the new one. 2+ episodes of stranger things on a monday afternoon

[stupidcupid-tarot]

Why I don't have friends?

pile 1 - pile 2 - pile 3

DISCLAIMER.These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purposes.

How to pick a pile. When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise!

Pile 1

Hello, little Cherub! When we start reading, we already have a clear answer: the reason why you have few friends is related to judgements, prejudices and realities that you believe to be absolute. For you, the world can be cruel, with petty, prejudiced and manipulative people. That's how you've seen the world until today, with these types of people always ready to take you down at any moment.

It is important to remember that, although there are reasons, this does not mean that the result will always be negative. If you have a closed mind and are very judgmental of others, this may be a reflection of past experiences, such as being bullied. Right? No. In the end you are also being like the people you judge so much. You always feel overwatched… overwatching others. The insights indicate that these perceptions may have been with you since childhood, creating a reality that you believe to be immutable, "all my friendships were like this, so all friendships ARE like this" and because of this, you close yourself off.

You also drink too much of the social media water, so you see gratuitous hate everywhere. You see that no matter what you are, it seems like the world hates you, too fat, too thin, you are a man, you are a woman, you have criticism and more criticism of who you are from strangers on the internet and you conclude again "the world is a trash". Do you want to make new friends? Absolutely! But you're soo scared of these"trash", right?

But the message is clear: this situation is not permanent. Just because you have few friends now doesn't mean it will be that way forever. The advice here is to be more authentic, open yourself to new experiences,. Start opening up to things you like! Cinema, food, dancing, things that you refuse to do because you think they are not for you. HOWEVER, don't feel like you're going to run amok like an addict going to all the bars and places that YOU KNOW are wrong! It's not about doing a 180º and saying that now you're going to be a "rebel", because you're going to MAKE A MISTAKE! Go to places that you can tell everyone and not being asshamed of.

Now, avoid the despair of accepting anyone just to avoid being alone. You will, unfortunately, first attract treacherous people and if you accept them on your path, you will return to the cycle of "the world sucks, people are mean and blahblahblah"…. You will meet them, but remember our good and old "nope". Use your judgment and avoid extreme changes in behavior without adequate planning. You're smart girl, stop acting stupid.

Pile 2

Hello little Cherub! Let's start by understanding why you have few friends. It's possible that this is due to significant changes you've recently faced, such as changing jobs, schools, cities, or even countries. These changes will naturally affected your social circle, right? In some cases, it's just a matter of appearance, major weight loss, an afro hairstyle, or even incurable diseases that change anyone's routine.

You may be finding it difficult to integrate into new social circles. It seems like every time you approach a new group, there's a big bubble that needs to be burst… you all speak the same language but why so diffent??? It's common to feel like your experiences and interests are different, which can make interacting and creating new friendships difficult.

Additionally, there may be personal resistance to making an effort to fit into new groups. You may question whether it is worth the effort to integrate and what the benefit would be. This lack of motivation can result in a more reserved or distant attitude, which can alienate potential new friendships. You want to go back to what you had before, your old friendships…

To overcome this, it's important to recognize that it's not necessary to form large social circles right away. Start small by establishing one-on-one connections, like a friend at work, school, college, or the gym. This can help build trust and facilitate deeper interactions in the future. Being social is healthy and necessary.

Now I need to give you an earful because you are behaving childishly on your behalf too. You know that child shouting "I don't want it" in the supermarket……….. it's you. Also, you're showing yourself like "I know that it's different but it's okay" or "fuck, I hate this"? You close yourself off so much in your reality that it's difficult to enter and understand the reality of others, so they throw a spaghetti party, they don't invite you because every day you say that you hate pasta, and then you find out that there was this spaghetti party and now you're super upset that you wasn't invited…

Avoid behaviors that can alienate people, such as being overly reserved or showing a lack of interest in social activities. Stay open to new experiences and encounters, even if they may initially seem uncomfortable. Openness can open doors to new friendships and a more diverse and enriching social circle.

Pile 3

Hello, little Cherub. Let's start reading by exploring the central question: why do you have few friends these days? It seems like you believe it is due to studies. You've dedicated a lot of time to this, whether on your own or because you're in college. This is your initial perception.

However, as we read deeper, we see that the true reason may be different. It appears that your romantic relationship has played a significant role in limiting your friendships. In this pile I'm not talking about marriage, but a long-term relationship. This relationship has taken up a large part of your time and energy, which ends up restricting your socialization opportunities.

Maybe you and your partner spend so much time together that there's no room for other friendships. As if you had to save all the energy you had left that week to spend time with them. And there may be issues of jealousy, both on your part and his, that make it difficult to get close to other people.

Do you want to have new friendships? Of course. You've always valued having friends around, and you've never been a lonely person. You always had several friends, someone to talk to and share moments with. However, now it seems like your partner is the only person you spend your time with, and that's something you've never done before.

The reading suggests that you have an upright and idealistic personality. Even when you saw wrong things, you did not allow yourself to be influenced by them. But you may now be falling into the trap of not realizing that you are also doing something wrong, like isolating yourself socially because of your relationship, or some really toxic shit, you know what I am talking about. Furthermore, you have this need to show yourself as someone "clean", without mistakes, always with the best and you know, even if unconsciously, that you are "dirty" and feel incapable of getting involved with people other than your boyfriend

The advice here is for you to have a clearer view of your current situation. Reflect on your relationship. Is it stopping you from living fully? Are fights and jealousy taking a heavy toll? Ask yourself where this insecurity comes from. Is it just a matter of jealousy or is there something deeper going on?

It's important to look at what's hidden, the things you might be pretending not to see. If you feel like you always need to appear perfect in the eyes of others, this may be stopping you from opening up to new friendships. No one is judging your character, but if you feel like you need to maintain a facade, this can be a significant barrier.

The final piece of advice is to examine your relationship honestly. Is it working for you? Does it need to be tweaked or maybe even finished? This is an answer you must find on your own. After this reflection, you will be in a better position to decide how to proceed.

That was the reading for you. Good luck and stay well.

(CC) Stupid Cupid Tarot Some Rights Reserved

[x-honeycomb-x]

(2 minutes into logging out lol I’m on web Tumblr now)

I think the kink itself isn’t the problem, but my discomfort is the symptom of my problems.

I didn’t wanna come back to real life in my bedroom? With too much problems that I can’t even identify, let alone solve?

And then I did a speedrun. I think I compromise because I don’t believe I can have it good. Well, then, Megan, think different?

I’m actually moving countries. I’m gonna have the freedom to be myself.

I’m gonna be all genders (they/he/she) as I want. They’ll all be part of me, it’s gonna be so natural I won’t even notice it

I’ll actually find a job in the new country, with better work environments, and I’ll feel less useless and actually find fulfillment. I have teachers and past employers who love me, and believe in me.

The HRT (5 years), psychiatry and psychotherapy will finally pay off. It’s been only a year, it will allow me to do so much more in my life in the future, and I’m only stuck in my mental illnesses and executive dysfunction now

I have a good heart and very powerful cognitive abilities. Once I’ve tamed my temper more, I’ll feel a lot more capable. I just really gotta have faith in myself.

My grandparents and father is in so much misery, they become consumingly toxic. I’ve always waited for them to either find enlightenment or death, then I don’t have to be there for them anymore. (My grandma had a stroke today). But I actually don’t. I don’t owe them shit. Human beings should be able to stand on their own two feet. My aunts and uncles are able to stand in their own, and my mom will too. I don’t need to babysit any adults in my family. They’ll take care of their own happiness. If they don’t, it’s none of my goddamn business.

I will one day surround myself with healthy enough people, respecting consent is simply a norm that I don’t even pick up anymore. I need to learn what is “manipulating, blackmailing, pressuring, forcing me to have sex”, stay the hell away from those people, actually say “what the fuck is wrong with that person” and let it be it, hold them accountable, then I’ll manifest the right crowd.

In general, notice “manipulation, blackmail, pressure”, decline, report them. Soon I’ll smell shit from a mile away, and I won’t be taken advantage of in workplace, love life, family, friendships, politics, etc

Food, cleanliness, sports. My disassociation and executive dysfunction is really bad. It makes life routine impossible. I’ve already build a house that’s suitable to live in, and a life routine that balances all of them. If I take care of it once task at a time, but be forgiving, in a few years, I would be used to eating, cleaning, working out, sleeping on time, financing, seeing friends regularly, and reviewing.

Be present. It’s the most important one of all. I have learnt from therapy what are real feelings and what are intrusive thoughts. And when I’m present, I get a lot less FOMO, nostalgia, and panic. I actually like the food, the people, the comfort, the nights, the gatherings, the happiness. I just gotta commit to be present more. So I don’t keep creating missed-out-on moments to grief in the future.

I will actually get a irl trans partner/trans partners. One I can hold, talk to, have food with, share a life with, rent an apartment together with, kiss with, laugh with, wake up next to. Yes. I miss my wonderful summer with my online enbyfriend so, goddamn, much. But it’s gone. And you won’t get anywhere if you don’t start living your life, and find real connection with dates you can actually see in real life. Who lives in the same city as you. Who comes to your apartment and bring you Thai takeaways when you two get off work. See. Real. People. You’re moving out of Asia, you’ll meet a lot more open-minded trans people. LGBT rights are better out there, and you’ll meet happier trans people. make better friends, have better relationships.

No more monogamous relationships, you don’t have the experiences yet, no guides too, but your polyamorous boundaries are very fucking valid, if they don’t see it, then they aren’t a good partner!

no more sketchy sex. No sleeping with ex’s friends, with coworkers, teachers, students, an aggressive stranger, in fact no meaningless hookups. If there’s a genuine attraction there, go for it! If there’s none, don’t pursue it! If it’s an obsession, not an attraction, if they trigger your mental issues, don’t go for it! I know it’s hard. Filthy dirty hookups are so exciting. But no. The sooner you take out your “trauma-lead” sex, the sooner you will truly enjoy sex again, and the better your sex life will become

you’re really scared of losing people and things getting out of control, so you become controlling to your partners, friends, and family. And it makes you feel like a monster. I can’t tell you to just “don’t!” Because it’s easier said than done. Just know that the relationship didn’t work out not because you didn’t do enough. Or because you didn’t do it right. I wish you truly remember the people you love as themselves, and see how somethings are simply impossible. It has nothing to do with you. And it’s better to leave because something isn’t working out. (I know you try your best to repair things before ending it. You’ve done enough. When it’s beyond you, let go. Just let go and get your own closure.) (you can continue to love someone or something and move on with your life at the same time.) it’s okay to age alone. It’s okay to be an elder and not have a loved one to change their diapers. Especially unwilling ones. They’ll find a caregiver. You can find a caregiver. But you are such a social person longing for connections. You’ve had wayyyy more therapy than your family. You’re in a much better position to find a healthy marriage.

You’ll find a job that’s fulfilling, and appreciates your diversity. The gifts of your neurodivergency will be used. You will have a house that’s lived in but doesn’t depress you, and a domestic life that doesn’t depress you, and in fact you look forward to! Your health will be taken care of by life routines, and monitored by annual body checks. Your family members will care for themselves, and if they fail and live in misery, then they should seek help themselves. You are an independent adult and so are they. You maintain contacts that you’re happy to keep. Maybe travel once every two years, and dinner over zoom four times every year. You’ll share your life adequately, and find support in your own new family if your family is too depressed to show you joy. Therapy will help me navigate through all of those. Saying no will be easier in the coming three years, I’ll continue to find suffering people more complex and interesting than healthy people, but I’ll decline people that are negative influences to me. Healed people will be attracted into my life, if I wanna like someone interesting, choose a healed person. Soon a problematic person may come into my life, and my social circle will bat an eye on them, and ask, what the fuck? Stay away from them! And you wouldn’t question yourself from saying no, and marvel at how far you’ve become. You’ll have picnic at parks, hold dinner parties for interesting friends, go to art festivals with my partner(s), and return to the home of my beautiful polycule. And then, you will feel okay, you’ll think “I wouldn’t throw this away for anything less than worthy”, you will think, oh wow, so this is how it feels to be on the right track.

you’ll live less of your life based on traumatic reactions, you’ll forget certain sensations of mental illnesses, which you find so, so, so comforting. And that’s completely okay. You said you wanna start writing new chapters in your life, instead of wasting another trying to describe and recreate feelings of mental illnesses.

I hope you make it. xhoneycombx, I really fucking hope you do. I hope you know that things can be wayyyyyyyy better, I hope you see those possibilities. I hope you start thinking of them and expect them. I love you. I truly do. As much as you have loved your family and your exes. Maybe even more.

Talk to an actual person, learn to play a musical instrument, and date someone that’s actually in your city. Fap to better things.

🤍🍯🐝

[bobocrottentotten]

4/23/24

I'll start by saying I am in a non-monogamous relationship. I have a boyfriend (J) of 4 years (in June) and I've been dating my girlfriend (A) for 5 months, in a relationship officially for almost 2 months hehe :).

I love them both. I've considered if it's too early to tell A that I love her but we do and it feels right. I do love her, she is so sweet and makes me feel like we are the only two people in the world when we're together. I think about her all of the time and I miss her the second we start saying goodbye. Am I in love with her? Not just yet but boy is it coming!!!

It's been difficult to navigate this. I have dated women in the past but in these situations, it's always been for pure pleasure. Either I was not expecting to progress in a serious relationship and just wanted to be intimate and cutie together OR they already had partners so there was no pressure to grow into anything too serious because our foundations were already there. This is the first time I have ever had a second partner and it's been hard to balance. I'm not totally sure I will be able to maintain this partnership with both parties for long which makes me sad because that means I have to break someone's heart along with my own.

Recently J and I have been experiencing a lot of issues. Our relationship became monotonous and routine. I want to add that being non-monogamous has nothing to do with the deflation of our relationship, we have been in this lifestyle even through the most exciting parts. The past year I have seen a lack of effort from him. He doesn't plan dates, he doesn't communicate with me at all even when I bring things up that I want to talk about. He just shuts it down with a "Ok. I'm sorry. Ok." and nothing further even when I try to pry he just won't budge. He avoids conflict at all costs. I think it makes him feel uncomfortable but for me it feels like he's not truly listening or attempting to come up with a game plan for the issues I bring up. We do not fight, it's always just conversations. But it's so irritating feeling like I'm the only one who cares about anything. I also feel like I mother him sometimes by reminding him of all the basic shit he should do like text his grandma happy birthday or buy holiday gifts for his nieces and nephew or exactly what to purchase at the grocery store. If I don't write out a detailed list of everything we need, he will barely buy anything and he will only get what is on my list, nothing more. He also has a history of hiding addiction from me. Specifically nicotine addiction but recently he admitted he was addicted to kratom and has been hiding it for over 9 months. He never wants to go out or do anything, he's home all of the time, I feel like we barely talk anymore.

I know he loves me, I've never doubted that for a second. I know he is absolutely, positively in love with me and would spend the rest of his life with me and never be unfaithful and accept me for everything I am and want to be in life. I just don't know if I feel the same way right now and that's unfair to him.

But fuck, I do love him so much. I love how it feels like home when we're together, I love the life we've created and what we accumulated together in our home. When I look around our house I see the story of our lives and I love it. Which makes me feel sad like I'm grieving it somehow. I don't want to be 80+ years old and look back and think, wow imagine a life with J, being with him holding hands at 80. Or we lose touch and I was never there for him through his life and I miss out on all of the fantastic things he's done with it. I don't know if I could ever be his friend. But I don't want to lose him. :(

As you can see I'm conflicted.

I don't want to lose A either. Although it's new, she cares for me so much. She plans dates and we have lovely conversations and memories already. She values her family, friends and future and has big plans for her life that fill me with inspiration and motivation and make me want that life too. With her.

Fuck.

In other news! I went to the gyno today and turns out the constant outbreaks that I thought I was experiencing from my HSV 1 were actually ingrown hairs and I haven't been getting breakouts as often as I thought I was getting them lol. That filled me with relief and made me feel like I can finally be intimate again without having to stress all of the freaking time.

My life has been full of ups and downs. I've also recently gotten accepted into my master's program which is exciting and scary. I hope I can balance work, school and life. I will do my best.

I'll end here for now. I could go on to talk about how my exes old friend reached out to me recently and we've formed somewhat of a purely textual (AKA only on instagram DMs) friendship which has been both healing and bringing up old ugly memories of my ex but I won't get into that right now. It hasn't been affecting me significantly.

Until next time!!!

[alyjojo]

Love Reading 🤼‍♀️ - November 2023 - Sagittarius

Singles:

Overall energy: 6 Cups rev

How you will meet: Wheel of Fortune rev

How they will treat you: 4 Swords

Long-term Potential: 7 Cups

Ick. I’m sure you’re aware. You know this person well, chaos and destruction follows them wherever they go, and they’re a known manipulator. Probably an ex. They’re coming back around to drown you in their emotions, they want closure, answers, they want you to heal them, fix them, and you can’t. It’s that simple. This is a karmic for you, they’re a lesson to learn, and you are the same for them. Both of you had a toxic & painful karmic experience together, you have stepped off the wheel of madness and they seem to be getting more comfortable on it, claiming it & keeping it.

How they treat you is nothing at all really, healing after you blew up the friendship, or you did something that caused everything to fall apart. I assume you. Wherever this went, or didn’t go, it was meant to not go. Painful circumstances seem to have affected you both, and it might not have been their fault either, but they’re still stuck & you’re not. Either way I keep getting “not your problem 💯”, that’s being made clear. Long term, no. Right now, no. There are other people, options, and directions, and holding back from this person is the best thing for you. They have an energy of like…guilting, emotionally weakening, manipulating, heavy emotions, and latching their claws into you, but you have more of a lighthearted & free, unbothered, maybe a little naive spirit. It’s not mean it’s just “no”. You either know this already or Spirit will just bring down another Tower, I keep hearing this is lesson, you know this, and “nope, keep going” 🙏

Messages -

Their side:

- Too Little, Too Late

- Manipulation 😕

Your side:

- LESSON 💯

- You are TOO much for me

Oracles -

Their side: NOT TODAY 😒

- Boundaries & Hurt

- Avoiding Conversation

- Not Dealing

- Still Upset

Your side: THE DRAGONFLY 🪽

- Lighthearted & Adapt

- Finding Out & Change

- Things Coming to Light & Heal

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Scorpio, Leo & Aries

Couples:

Overall energy: The Chariot

Current: 9 Cups

Challenge: Page of Cups

How they feel about you: 10 Cups

How you feel about them: 2 Pentacles

Outcome: Wheel of Fortune

Your reading has a whole Christmas Vacation vibe. This 9 Cups has a Christmas tree 🎄on it, and when I laid it down I heard “Home for the Holidays” by Perry Como…I think, they’ve all been remade so many times idk anymore. I’ll add it at the end, because I know you won’t hear it otherwise…every five minutes. In the US anyway. I’ve never gotten holiday songs before 😆 If not that, pick your holiday, it’s got the winter celebration vibes. It’s probably your/their Mom, Grandma, Aunt, they have sibling drama, could be a sibling. Or all of the above, but a mom is highlighted. This could be the first time the family is meeting your person for some, or you’re engaged/pregnant now YAY, and want to spread the good news. You’re overjoyed to be traveling back, I get travel/distance, even if it’s not literal - you’re just away from them, doing other things most often, and that you haven’t seen these people in some time, haven’t talked much and haven’t been able to for whatever reason, so it’s a joyous occasion 🎉

That could be switched too, it could be Mom moving to Florida to retire, and she’s the one coming back, or traveling to you, apply it however it fits. Hopefully you know this is happening, I feel like most of you do, you’re excited for this, but there could be some rogue mom out there that just pops in Cousin Eddie style. Or you do. Why am I getting that movie? Idk but it’s one of my favorites so, I’m laughing 😆

So the dynamic between you and your person…it’s like you two have been off in your own little world, creating your own routines, your own favorite things, memories, like life is completely different now than it ever was. Okay so, when past people (or family) come back around, they tend to still treat you how you were when they knew you or had you around all of the time. I get that being the hardest obstacle for you both. Mom is over here talking about when you were 10 and liked mud pies and you’re like omfg I haven’t done that since I was 10 can we not? It’s hard to clearly see you as you are now, for those that knew you as someone different. And you’re not around all of the time now, so they can’t really learn or get to know “present you” either. You and your person are the ones that know each other best now, and I feel like these are your people, because your person is mirroring you. What you do, they do. What you accept, they’ll accept. If you laugh, they laugh, like they’re more out of their element with these people, but they love you and that’s all that matters. When it comes to past topics it’s like someone is like “oh yeah haha” ok next subject, because that person is long gone now, but that’s who Mom remembers.

Your person sees you as 10 Cups, very happy, with family, you’re everything they want & dream of and they’ll do anything for you. They’re trying not to be defensive over reminiscing or “good old days” vibe, probably before them, depending on the subjects idk. They’re letting you handle this but sometimes feel a way about certain people or topics, doesn’t say why that’s just how it goes. Or they just see you struggling not to get defensive. You go back and forth between two different worlds (old and new, past and future, childhood and adulthood), and are trying to be gracious and generous, appreciative and loving. No one is stirring up drama, because that’s not necessary, it’s more like “just enjoy the moment, because soon will be back to business”. And you love your family 💚

Outcome for mid-Dec is back to business, and Wheel of Fortune shows shifting circumstances, things are changing, it feels positive. This can be showing you feel even closer to this person once you get back, or they do, whoever is visiting or traveling. You’ll definitely feel more of a “purpose”, definition, spiritual understanding of things. The Star is here with Wheel of Fortune & The Hierophant, it’s like faith is being restored and you feel more aligned with your path than you have in a long time, you’re ready to take the world on. Or something inspires you to feel this way, your path is shown to you, other people in your life or things they’ve said, memories they’ve brought up. Something very positive comes out of all of this, and could be relating to work or where you want to go with that. A business, career, religion, marriage & relationships even. It’s all for the better. Like say you’re some hot shot big city person, and you travel back to the farm you were raised in (drastic example). It irritates you at first, but getting back to your roots actually makes you feel really good in the long run. Then, feeling whole, you’ll make some really positive changes to your big shot life 💚

Messages -

Their side:

- Sibling Drama

- Marriage Material

Your side:

- You’re my best friend.

- Short hair

Oracles -

Their side: MIRROR 🪞

- Mirroring Each Other

- Self-Reflection

- Introspection

- Inner Wounds

Your side: SOULMATES 💕

- Soul Connection

- Partnership

- Soul Contract

- Life Partner

Signs you may be dealing with:

Heavy Pisces & Taurus 💯, Leo, Aquarius & Sagittarius

[majdalenaska]

Country road take me home to the place I belong…

I am thinking about my last trip with Vendy, driving down the American roads, while listening to country music , headed to Mount. Rainier. It only stays in my memories now.

One year without flying and how do I feel about it?

Is this the end of an era , should I accept that, I am asking myself.

I’d like to look back and reflect on my very last flight and previous year 2020, that rolled out to be one of the strangest year so far.

Flicking through my pictures from Seattle, Rio and Austin is making me upset, I want to cry and feel sorry for myself. Why did it happen to me, to us, my amazing colleagues from Norwegian family?

A lot of stuff has been going on lately with my Norwegian family and the management. We found out an ugly truth about them and the way they treated us at the end when shit hit the fan. It’s very unfortunate the way things turned out. But I choose to not feel bitter about it and let it go.   

I pick up and treasure the memories that keep my heart warm and reminiscence on my travel stories with my colleagues and friends.  Who actually creates a great company? The employees and their dedication, hard work, diligence and sharing and caring for one another. …

It’s been almost a year since my last flight to NYC, it was somewhat uncanny, I remember everything about the whole trip. When deadheading back, sitting in the premium cabin, I could feel deep down in my gut that this is probably my very last flight. How awfully sad that sounds. I am thankful I got to enjoy my very last trip with a great bunch of people, being able to wander around Brooklyn and to jog in the morning with my fellow colleague from Paris base, who I literally only met at a breakfast buffet.

It’s been also a year since my sleep worsened. Is my body still recovering from 3 years of flying or is it an impact of the stress and anxiety due to Covid 19. I blame both…But it’s getting better, slowly but better. My body needs routine. Why the hell did you choose to work as a flight attendant.? In fact sometimes the most chaotic jobs could be the most rewarding ones at the same time. How to navigate a balance  in my life I am still trying to figure out. I feel like I am always after a thrill and excitement, which is not obviously sustainable in a long run. I am open to an adventure and discomfort which pushes me forward. Many people around me must thing I am a nutter when it comes to my life choices. „Now it’s time to settle down and have children“ I can hear from my grandma….

I have decided to abandon my second home called Beckenham and move back to my home country, but it wouldn’t be me if I choose to do it the easy way. I opted for Prague, not Brno, my home town. Let’s the new adventure begin…but before let’s have a look at what I have been up to for the last year.

During the world pandemic I managed to spent 2 months in Czech Republic, meeting friends from all over the country, baking cakes and bread and ended up with IBS as a result of a Czech diet for 2 months straight. Luckily it wasn’t an IBS as I first thought, it went away once I flew back to London. How bizarre the English diet would be the cure.

 I had been eyeing Workaway website for years. A website, which enables you to travel a little bit differently. To volunteer in an exchange of food and shelter but sometimes with an offering of a small pay even. I never had the guts to travel somewhere by myself. Something was always holding me back. Mind you, when I firstly moved to the UK, I literally forced myself to go. Sometimes it is better not to think things over too much and rather act quickly and just go for it. And in a hindsight it was the best decision I could have ever made.

Anyway it takes a lot of courage to leave your comfort zone, your familiar environment, friends and family, especially someone with a social anxiety like me. But sometimes there is this inner voice that pushes me when the time is right.

We are in the midst of the global pandemic and you decide to go volunteering to a foreign country? Yeh , why not, I figured. But my first volunteering adventure was on the safe side. Picking up a place near Canterbury, which is about two hours from Beckenham, where I live, was a great compromise. „Helping out on a fruit farm with animals“? Yes girl…sign me up.

So I packed my little black Norwegian suitcase, pretending I am about to leave for 2 days Las Vegas layover, but this time it’s going to be stress free train journey to Canterbury in south east England. Mark picks me up in his Land Rover and blatantly asks me if I came to his place to de-stress since I seemed a little apprehensive…I was taken aback by his question and hesitated with my answer but me being usually quite frank , I came clean. „Yes Mark, I am looking for an escape from the city and I think your farm will be ideal for that.“

I wasn’t mistaken, the loveliest English farm house in Kent, surrounded by beautiful fields and country roads, I could think of. I stayed in a sweet looking cottage next door with my fellow workawayers. The whole property with a massive garden and woodlands near by was utterly magical and wonderful. Perfect place for anyone who wants to escape the hustle and bustle of a big city. I was greeted by sweet Labrador dog called Brandy, Cockerspaniel Lola and the third Cocker, whose name I cannot remember since she would always run away to the neighbours's house. My sweet pregnant Brandy, who was due to have puppies in several weeks. We spent a lot of time together and I miss her greatly up to this day. And what was I actually doing at this farm? Mainly walking doggies, but also taking care of little ducklings, chicks and also helping out with Mark’s Airbnb, the tree house, which was so out of the ordinary. The little getaway spot was a lover’s dream. An a escape into a magical garden and woodland, campfire and swing next by. Often also accompanied by Jess, the cat, who guarded the place …

I met lovely girls from Brazil, Hungary and China. We shared so many a laughable moments together, I never forget Jin’s Chinese cooking and the recipe I was given by her. But the most memorable and wholesome experience was Brandy’s puppies being born upon my stay. I had never seen anything more adorable and pure. I wish I could have stayed longer but I knew I wanted to see other places when I had the chance and time on my hands due to the fact I was on furlough for the whole year.

I opened a Workaway website and I scrolled down to countries that I’d like to visit. For some reason I was tempted to go to Sweden. My first stay in Sweden happened, when I turned 12 year old , that time it was with my folk dance ensemble, performing at the local festival, but I couldn’t remember almost anything at all from that trip. There was also another reason why I was so keen on exploring Sweden but let’s just say love was concerned.

So Sweden it is, I am going in few weeks.  I did some research and found a Martin’s place, a typical Swedish summer house in Stockholm’s Archipelago, surrounded by a forest and a massive lake. Did I mention I am a lake enthusiast?

Martin was kind enough to pick me up from Arlanda’s airport and off we drove to Stockholm first, where he owned  a small flat in the city center.

Martin was a typical Nordic man, tall with blond hair, and definitely not a talker. Exactly how I imagined a proper Viking would be. I do have a soft spot for Scandinavian type though, I must admit.  I am strolling around the Vasastan neighborhood in Stockholm and I am impressed. The impeccable fashion sense of Swedish man, and women also. I think Czechs would benefit a quick visit to Sweden. Just an observation here.  Did I mention that the coffee was top notch? There is a coffee house on every corner, having it served it in a plastic free, recycled paper cups.

Martin is maybe not too eloquent but we are having a great time getting to know each other and chatting over some red wine and fresh local prawns. I am absolutely amazed by the freshness and quality of the local produce. It’s outrageously costly but the selection and quality of food is beyond this world.

Martin is taking me to his summer house in Archipelago in the countryside. The only way to get there is by ferry though, how cool is that. We are going to work on his renovating project, which his beloved father started many years ago, but unfortunately never finished it. Martin’s plan is to complete this house and hopefully to sell it one day. I am helping out with some wood work but politely decline when electric saw is involved. Thank you very much, I am not keen on loosing my finger the very first week being there. I opted for grass mowing with a tractor near by the lake and boat house. I drive the tractor 2 miles per hour, otherwise it won’t pick up the grass I was told. I am learning a new skill , how amazing, not sure about sharing it on my Resume though. This lake area, absolutely breathtaking views over the neighboring wooden cabins and small boats on the lake floating. The sun is glancing through the trees, making the lake looks like it’s glittering. How poetic, I sighed.. Considering it was September already, the weather was on point, warm and pleasant. I managed to lay down on the grass and catch some sunshine. How peaceful and quiet this place was. Couple of times I came down and performed my yoga session and also listened to some local Swedish music while soaking up the sun and fresh air. My favorite spot, being by myself, reflect and think about the future. I cannot forget my horsey friends near by, whom I talked to on several occasions and fed them with apples. Such majestic animals they were.  It felt like they knew, what I was talking to them about, sharing my secrets and struggles.

The first night at the summer house Martin prepared, as he said typical Swedish dinner, consisting of fresh crayfish, local cheese, bread, prawns, delicious spread and mayos. Dinner was accompanied by delicious wine and candles could not had been missed. I must had judged him wrong , Martin was the romantic type after all. But according to him candles are massive part of Swedish dining culture and there is nothing romantic about them. It was rather authentic experience then, especially when Martin poured a  typical Swedish fruit brandy and finished it off with some random Swedish song, well me being slightly tipsy, I couldn’t  let him down and joined in with a Czech folk song also.

This is what I meant by traveling via Workaway is about. Seeing and experiencing places from a local perspective, way different as opposed to the stereotypical sightseeing and playing a tourist. You can actually dive into the culture and observe it from local’s point. So next time you go places, think about, what you are actually wanting to experience and see. Maybe Couchsurfing and Workaway is the way, maybe not, but for me, the times of fancy hotels and swimming pools are over.

I stayed in Sweden for about a month and I had the best time I could have asked for.  I am really grateful to Martin that he accommodated me, took me on a  boat trip and showed me the spectacular houses on the island. I also met up with my friend from Norwegian Air, who was kind enough to take me on his private yacht and showed me Stockholm from a boat perspective. Have your ever ordered an Uber Eats on a boat? Yes, in Stockholm it was possible. I utterly fell in love with Stockholm and it’s surroundings. The nature, forests, Archipelago, the delicious local produce. ..Maybe it’s my luck but seeking discomfort and taking risks sometimes pay off. Sweden I’ll be back soon.

After my Swedish adventure I took a flight back to London. Struggled for few months to settle back in and decided to find a new job for the time being before I move back to Czech Republic. My current job is working as a Covid assistant in the NHS testing centre, 13 hours shift for 4 days in a row, in a bleak and rainy winter. After my first 4 days pattern it felt like I did four Buenos Aires flights in a row, and without the tasty steak and Malbec wine. But I am in the front lines now and I am proud of myself. At the beginning I was really scared to work at the „dangerous“ zone but now I am fine with it. I am happy I can contribute and help out and I am taking a bow in front of all the health and NHS workers who literally put their life at risk every single day. Well, no more glamorous life as a cabin crew, now it’s time to realize what my next step will be and when it’s the right time to leave this country. A country that was my second home for 7 years.

[fingertipsmp3]

I think I’ve accidentally gotten my grandma into the IT/Stranger Things cinematic universe

[obeymeshallwedate-latinplayer]

Traditional costumes part 2

Remmember, GN!MC. And stay for a big hollyday surprise!!!

Beel (Chiapas La chiapaneca)

·         Wearing the typical costume of your state, always made your heart expand in your chest, that night wasn´t the exception, using all the elements of nature made you really happy. That night Lord Diavolo prepare a big dinner to celebrate the exchange students, most likely he just wanted to take a break from the exams that you took a week ago. So you prepare yourself with the very best clothes you had.

·         Beel knocked in your door, saying that it was about time to go out, and he only heard one single scream from you that he panicked and with frenetically movements he opened your door. You were almost done, but usually your grandma would do the last touches for you to be ready, that made you sad. And Beel noticed it.

·         With a silent movement and a soft whisper in your ear he asked what was wrong, and how he might help you.

·         “You know Beel, this is my evening dress, not only because it´s beautiful but… It´s all about the story behind it: This costume was created towards the end of the 1920s, (1926-1927), when a highly successful theatrical company from Central America arrived in Chiapas de Corzo. In her first performance within the state, the lead singer performed a song that was called "Las Chiapanecas", in honor of her audience. The most popular story in terms of the traditional clothing of this state is carried by the Chiapas, who year after year parade showing their wonderful dresses. Characterized by its multiple colors and flowers; generally, on a black background, the traditional dress of Chiapas women represents the different ethnic groups that coexist in their region, such as the Tzeltales, the Lacandones, the Jacaltecos, the Choles and the Tojolobales, among others. Likewise, reference is made to the immense variety of botanical species that exist in Chiapas, since it is a state in which all kinds of ecosystems converge, from the mountainous places of the sierra to the coastal towns. In the case of men, allusion is made to elements such as the sun and rain, so necessary for the fertility of the Earth, and protection against the forces of darkness. The men also remember the Spanish conquerors, imitating certain characteristics of Europeans such as their blond hair; through the headdress that they put on their heads.”

·         Beelzebu wasn´t a man of tons of words like his older brothers, he was a man of actions. He hugged you as tight as he could (without harming you of course) after the hug he just smiled at you. “You are the connection in the three realms, but those are some complicated words that Lord Diavolo usually use, you are all of them for me, the flowers and plants, the mountains, the sierras and the ocean, for me. You are all of them and more.”

·         That made your heart “Doki, doki” yes, maybe that was the last thing you needed, like a magical spell just for you.

Belphie ( Traje Mestizo Quintana Roo) 

He was sleeping in your room, nothing out the ordinary, most of his weekly routine was staying in your room sleeping, until he sniffed something different. He might be sleeping under your bed when he found out the costume inside the box under your bed. Was it like a good luck item? Or did you just didn´t wanted to see it again? He approached his left hand until he touched the box, he took it out and opened it.

In that moment he understood why you were hiding it, the costume was so beautiful. If someone else saw it, they would sell it, eat it, or use it, even asked you to use it. When you opened the door, and found him with the costume you screamed with full joy. “OH BELPHIE DARLING, YOU FOUND IT! I thought I lost it!” So you weren´t trying to hide it? You lost it? In your own room? Heh what a weird human.

“You know, my great grand mother made this for the generations after her. She would always be telling us Mestizo clothing is particularly representative clothing of Yucatan, and has been associated with Quintana Roo clothing. This is due to the proximity that exists between both states and of course, because both complement each other as tourist poles in Mexico. Particularly, the mestizo woman's costume is made up of a huipil embroidered in cross stitch, whose motifs go on the collar of the garment, the hem and the skirt. While the man's is much simpler and he only wears a shirt and pants made of a raw blanket, matching with a plaid apron, leather espadrilles and a palm hat.” You said with a big smile in your face. “Maybe we could ask her to make you one of it What do you think?”

He nodded, you looked so excited about it, that he almost forgot one little thing, How old was your great grandmother? He panicked just a little, but he recover the posture and with the nicest smile he could use, he said. “Well… But first how about you showing me the costume and then we could ask your great grandmother about it”

You smiled once again and ran into your bathroom, it was going to be an amazing evening.

Diavolo (Sn. Luis Potosí, “Las huastecas.”)

It was a nice party for you, some of the greatest demons were at the castle, the brothers tried to protect you as much as they could, but they did had their own responsibility’s, being the seven rulers of the Devildom wasn´t a simple task, and you knew it.

Diavolo tried to approach you on multiple times, failing everyone of them. Until a duke actually came and talked to you. It was notorious you were uncomfortable, he was touching your most precious clothing, and making some rude comments about it.

When Diavolo was about to make his intervention, you took the demons hand and with a scary smile, you started. “It might not be as beautiful as you may think, but at least my dressing has a bigger meaning that that tuxedo of yours, my culture is not for you to make fun of, it deserves to have respect.” After that the prince of the Devildom approach to the both of you, as an excuse for you to join him for some drinks.

Both of you went out of the party, the garden was nice and the moon in the Devildom was brighter that night, Diavolo took your hands with his. “You are a brave human.” He started. “And you look delightful tonight, like someone full of dignity that can rule along with me.” He kissed your hands with the respect that he might show to his fiancé.

“You know Diavolo, my culture is a descendant from the Mayas, we use a tangle that reaches a few inches below the knee. It is made of a white blanket or a plain black cloth on the back; the front has four planks. Is held up by a factory-made sash with red and blue speckled stripes and has a braided fringe at both ends. The blouse or loose jacket is made of flowered calico or pink or blue artisela; It has puffed sleeves, high neck and pleated bib, ending at the waist with an olán or loose skirt that covers the girdle. On top of the blouse, we wear a white cotton quechquémel entirely covered with worsted embroidery with cross stitch. I am proud of my culture.”

As soon as you conclude he smiled, and asked you nicely to go for a dance. After that night he will make that duke pay for what he has done.

Barbatos (Oaxaca, Traje de las tehuanas)

After visiting the human realm your grandfather gave him a nice CD full of music, Barbatos wasn´t the musical type of demon, but he accepted it anyways. After a few months the whole devil castle would have music that was just nostalgic for you.

One day you decided to go on your Huasteca outfit, not the casual one, but the gala. If Barbatos wanted to you could dance for him. When you arrived to the castle there he was, his usually stoic face turned into a surprise one when he saw you enter. His eyes started to shine like a small child when they saw a candy store.

He walked as fast as he could to see you, that was the first time he was close enough to listen to his breathing. He even started to say: “This typical costume was born in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, Oaxaca, using it both the Tehuanas and the Juchitecas, it is said that it is a living costume, since they use it in any type of celebration, making it current over the years, even with the countless modifications it has undergone. t was in 1853, when the composer Máximo Ramón Ortiz composed the musical theme known as the Sandunga, that is when the Tehuana costume managed to cement its fame and prestige as a characteristic of the Oaxacan culture.”

You looked at him astonished, he even knew the history behind your costume, with a laugh caught in your throat you smiled at him. “It was a present from my family, sometimes I miss going to the river in Oaxaca, or even talking with my family in Zapotec.”

He was clearly impressed about the details in the costume, he even took your hand and ask you if you could dance with him. With a big smile you nodded and enter the castle.

It was a nice dance between the two of you, he even made your favorite  tea.  

Simeon (Yucatán Terno) 

He was researching old cultures for his new book, until he found out something he missed while thinking, you were like an expert of the topic, right? Maybe you could tell him more about it, so he ran into the house of lamentation, hoping you could help him.

And there you were, using a beautiful costume, while talking with Satan, his heart started to beat faster, as he heard your story.

“Its origin dates from the time of colonization; When the Spaniards arrived in Mexican territory, they were surprised by the beauty and high quality of the blankets woven by the indigenous people, so they began to create adaptations taking various elements from both cultures to create what we know today as the suit or gala dress. for women and the mestizo costume for men.”

That would help him develop one of his new characters, but when you saw him in the door threshold, immediately your face became red. He notice it and laugh. He actually took your hand, and asked Satan nicely that he needed a piece of advice from you.

“You look stunning Mc.” He said to you while looking right into your clothes. “I must say, this is the nicest surprise of them all. Is it an important day for you to wear it?”

“Not at all, sometimes I only use it so I feel more at home.” With that say the both of you stayed talkig for a while.

Luke (Baja California Sur. Flor de pitahaya) 

He was with you, watching the nicest video of the whole realms, something about the dance in front him made his heart a happy heart.

“Mc! This is beautiful!!” You looked at him with a warm smile, and told him, it was your mother dancing for a festival.

“You see Luke, my mother is a folkloric dancer, this dance in specific is from our state, and the full outfit has a big meaning and even a history behind it.” When you concluded, he looked at you with those big blue puppy eye of his, you pat his head and started.  “Some people say that this suit was created in 1951 as a result of a summons issued by the government of General Agustín Olachea Avilés, others, that it was in 1955, since there was no suit that represented our state. At that time, "period costumes" were used, since other states had a representative costume since ancient times, that is why this call came out in order to have a "symbol" that represented the roots of the inhabitants of Baja California Sur, being the winner "La Flor de Pitahaya” The Pitahayo is a cactus that grows in Baja California Sur, both on the coast and in the mountains, and when it blooms, it shows an abundance of nutritional wealth with its fruit the Pitahaya that peninsular indigenous people and now inhabitants have enjoyed for years.”

He was amazed, “You know Mc! I´m just a young angel, but listening to the story makes my heart melt, Is it normal?” with a warm smile, you told him: “Well, of course it´s normal, my stories have that magical power!”

After that day Luke would practice his dancing for you to be proud of him, sometimes he even saw you using the dressing for important parties in the castle of Diavolo. It was so nice!

He even saw your performance once, when he went to visit you at the house of lamentation, and he knew, he needed to work harder if he wanted to have an opportunity to dance with you.

Solomon (Nayarit  traje de los wixárikas)

The both of you went to the Human realm, he needed to know more of you if he wanted to teach you even better, your family actually welcome him with a big surprise and a big meal, your family was known for using the traditional costume almost the whole year, so everybody knew how proud you were with it.

Solomon received  one of the largest lectures you had heard from your father. “The typical costume of Nayarit corresponds to the clothing of the Huichol culture, or as they prefer to be called: wixárikas. Most of these descendants of the Aztecs live in the Sierra Madre Oriental. The female version of the typical Nayarit costume is quite simple, compared to its male counterpart. This includes an embroidered blouse and a skirt, it also includes a cloak embroidered with flowers that serves to cover their heads and a quechquemitl as a complement. The quechquemitl is a triangular garment with a central opening that in pre-Hispanic times was reserved for the goddesses of fertility, or for certain women of the nobility who identified with these deities. Men wear more elaborate garb. All his garments are decorated with beaded embroidery and brightly colored threads: the shirt open on the inside of the sleeves (cuarri), the pants (breeches), the cape (turra), the sashes that hold the cape and the backpack that crosses his chest. They use symmetrical designs loaded with symbolic, mythological and magical elements. For example, a zigzag can represent lightning (associated with rain). These embroideries are, at times, so profuse that they do not reveal the white fabric in the background.” Solomon just stayed astonished when your father finished the lecture, he made it in one breath, that was amazing, and yet he wanted to use the clothing.

After a few days his dream became true, when your grandfather gave him his very own clothing, the old man said that if he was going to teach you, he must use it for now on.

Solomon was a happy little baby, and he would brag about it in front of the demon brothers, and even in front of Diavolo. Maybe the two of you could go into a party with matching clothes, just like your grandma and grandpa do.

After a while he got used to wear the costume your family gave him, and he even have a time record, and if you want to help him, that would make him as happier as a human could be.

He was grateful for the gift and having you in his life.

It is I, the writer behind the headcanons, So! For the hollydays I´m planing to make place for 9 comissions! (Originaly they were 10 but someone won one of the space) So you can ask about culture, romance, comedy etc. Remmember, I usually write for Latin American Mc, but if you have another idea for another MC, we can make that happen! Anyways, thanks for the support! And I will be reading you!!! Happy Hollydays. 

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: pink hyacinth 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: settsu banri/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 2.5k words 𝐝𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨: alyssa ✨, natasha, kat

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: flower shop part-timer banri and friendly competition between him and the reader. might make part 2 if i feel like it. 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: this work is a part of the flower shop event, a series of unconnected flower shop AU one-shots

As the flower shop grew more popular, the more difficult it became for you and your boss to manage everything by yourselves. Even though it wasn’t the holiday season, the orders seemed to increase every week— plus, managing the till while making a last minute arrangement and simultaneously giving people flower recommendations? It was no easy feat, that was for sure.

“Let’s hire someone to work part time alongside you,” your boss finally decided one day as she flipped through the accounting ledger book, “it’s not always the both of us will be at the store at the same time. We need the extra help.”

You hummed  in reply, not thinking much of it at the time as you continued taking inventory. As long as they weren’t overly cold to you, you couldn’t foresee any problems. Well, except for maybe one, little thing.

“My salary won’t be lowered, right?”

…

You were expecting the new hire to be the stereotypical soft, sweet, fluffy looking person of whom grandmas would be drawn to. Instead, he was a guy wearing a purple, leopard-cheetah-whatever animal print bucket hat with a luxury brand logo right smack in the centre.

Aha, it really put the statement in the term statement piece. It certainly gave him a lot of impact.

You wanted to do something in between laughing and crying, but your boss probably wouldn’t appreciate either one. With some restraint, you introduced yourself with a  bright smile, handing him a work apron you hoped was his size.

“If you ever need any help, just let me know,” you offered, leading him to the staff room so he could store his belongings somewhere and take off that dumb hat. “It might take you a while to get used to some things, but I’m sure you’ll get a hang of it soon!”

“I’m a quick study, don’t worry.”

There was something about the way he phrased it that made you intrigued. He said it in a pretty nonchalant manner, even his expression remained relaxed, but the moment your eyes met his you found yourself growing excited. There was a certain glint there that you recognised pretty quickly, and you had a feeling he did, too.

“I think we’ll get along well, Banri-kun,” you said, grinning in anticipation of the next few weeks. It would be an undeniably nice break from the usual routine work brought upon you.

There’s a visible upwards stretch on his lips, too, and though he replied to you with a “who knows?” something in your gut told you the feeling was already reciprocated.

…

Settsu Banri wasn’t lying one bit when he told you he learned things fast. On his first day he took the time to observe you first, watching you go about the different tasks for the day— from how and for how long you watered each plant, to how you went about choosing flowers to add to a bouquet, to how you interacted with the customers and how you subtly managed to convince them that yes, they did need that new and slightly pricey fertiliser.

The way he was able to pick up on the way you did things pretty quickly was something to be envied. Although he still lacked a lot of the stock knowledge and experience you had, he easily made up for it with his skill in… literally everything else.

He wondered what your reaction would be— would you be pissed? That wasn’t really his intention but he was pretty self-aware that some people found that annoying. Though he wasn’t overly concerned of what people thought of him in the first place, it wouldn’t sit right with him either if his co-worker on one of his first jobs didn’t like him.

You stood behind him, your critical eye peering at the way he arranged his flowers. Pink ranunculus and hyacinth, as well as some other filler flowers, laid out atop the worktable. With his choice of an off white Kraft paper, the assortment of pink decorative sheets, and the silver lace ribbon, it was clear that he was a natural— or at least he had a good eye for colour scheme.

“All this fit the customer’s price range, yeah?” he asked. Truly, he already knew the answer. It was easy to estimate the amount of wrapping needed for a bouquet of that size, and the price labels per material made things even easier. He even skimmed the flower language guide printed out to make sure his flower choices were optimal.

In fact, the real question he meant to ask wasn’t even whether it fit the budget or not.

Despite his confidence, he turned his head around if only to gauge your facial expression. You stood still in your spot for a few seconds; then you quietly moved from your station behind his back to beside him, your arm brushing against his as you took a closer look. He didn’t tense up from the contact, but he’s not completely numb to the sudden closeness, either.

Though he was planning on it already, his awareness of you definitely grew as he watched your reactions from the corner of his eye.

A normal person would’ve taken one look and end up deciding then and there if it was nice or not, but as he watched the narrow of your eyes and the way the pads of your fingers felt the texture of papers he knew not a single detail was going amiss with you.

He could respect that. There was something pretty admirable about someone completely dedicated to their craft.

“Yeah,” you replied, “right down to the choice of going for a thicker ribbon instead of something thinner. It’ll turn out pretty,”

As he was about to soak up your praise and reply in stride, you ended up surprising him as you followed up with another comment.

“Though I think your flower choice could be… better,” you commented coolly.

With an eyebrow raised, he couldn’t find it in himself to be offended at all— just plain curious in what you have to say.

“The customer asked for a non-rose bouquet to tell someone they’ve fallen for them because they’re so charming, so ranunculus and hyacinths best fit the criteria,” he explained, curious of how you’d critique his decision.

“The ranunculus was a good choice, but lowkey makes the guy seem shallow?” you pointed out, a shrug soon following. “Also, I wouldn’t go for pink hyacinth— the bouquet ends up implying the guy’s just playing around with the girl. If you went with blue, it’d show that he’s sincere about his feelings.”

Banri let out a little exhale of breath, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table to look at you properly. “Sense, doubt whoever’s getting this is gonna go as hard analysing as you though.”

You rolled your eyes before mirroring his actions, “You never know with these things, but… maybe you’re just upset you didn’t make the perfect choice?”

He huffed, but a smirk rose to his face just as yours did. Were you challenging him? He can’t say he particularly hates it, not when he’s steadily growing more and more interested in you.

“And maybe you’re just paranoid I’ll catch up to your skill level quickly,” he teased, amused when you don’t back down from his provocation. He initially wasn’t serious about it, but if you were down— “I’m sure I can make you admit to my skills in a span of a week, maybe even tomorrow.”

“Oh I’m too nice for that, I’ll give you the rest of the week to make it easier on you,” you cooed playfully, before ultimately coming to a conclusion, “wanna bet?”

“With what?

Your eyes flitted away elsewhere, looking a little too pensive for such a trivial matter. “I mean, I’m broke, but just betting for the sake of pride is boring…” you trailed off, and Banri couldn’t help but helpfully supply his two cents.

“Don’t people in shows usually ask for a favour or some shit with these kinds of things?”

You stared at him blankly. “I… I get what you mean, but not gonna lie, using the word favour makes it sound wrong—“

“Oi oi,” Banri interrupted, “don’t make me out to be some kind of fuckboy.”

“Sorry, sorry,” you let out a laugh that was light, laced with a hum of amusement at the matter, “but like, we don’t have to decide on anything now? Let’s just go with the flow. I’m sure I’ll eventually think of the reward I’ll get~”

“That confident?”

You shrugged, “not really, just optimistic… so, you game?”

…

Honestly, neither of you even set any rules or guidelines for your little competition; it was just a matter of you having fun competing with Banri over numerous things.

Who could convince more people to purchase gardening products they may or may not actually need were hesitating on buying (6-9 in Banri’s favour).

Who could recommend the better flowers (8-4 in your favour).

Who could compute and double check accounting and inventory faster (5-6, you told yourself you’re making it even today).

Who could create the better bouquet arrangement (somehow, a tie. Even with his fashion sense, he was pretty good at coordinating colours and patterns. You did have to stop him from using two animal print papers in one go, though).

Occasionally your boss would walk in the two of you bantering and critiquing each other’s work. At first, you worried she’d tell off the both of you (or maybe just you, since you were technically Banri’s senior in terms of experience), but she deemed it as ‘productive noise’ and let the two of you continue, even chiming in with her own opinions from time to time.

With her encouragement, neither of you held back.

“Oh, you accidentally cut too much ribbon— what a waste,” and “you missed a row in your calculation. Let me show you,” were amongst the common statements you said to each other.

A work relationship that was neither vile nor overly friendly, teasing at very least and strangely productive at most. You were quite satisfied with this turn out, a good way to stave off the boredom work could bring, but life had other things in store for the two of you.

Beyond either of your expectations, your dynamic would soon enough evolve into something beyond little comments exchanged between one another and one-upping each other.

…

There were always hints that beneath both of your competitiveness, there was a lot of thoughtfulness as well. Helping each other out under the guise of “showing them how it’s done”, or “I can do it faster”. Neither of you ever expressed it out loud, but gratefulness didn’t have to be said to be known.

It became less about playfully competing and more about just enjoying each other’s company in your own way.

“Hahh… it’s finally over!” you exclaimed, plopping down on a chair as you began fanning yourself with the closest piece of paper you could pick up. Even in the air-conditioned room, you found yourself sweating, your body unused to the physical exertion normally not demanded of you during work. Even your co-worker seemed exhausted— if the grunting noise he made was to be taken as a telltale sign.

Banri strode over beside you, looking just as exasperated as you felt.

“What kind of dumbass—“

“—decides to buy a bunch of pots,” you continued, halting your fanning motions as your fingers began aching again, “in the evening? What the fuck would you do with 12 plant pots?”

“‘xactly? Shit, didn’t realise those clay pots were gonna be that heavy…” Banri said, your eyes immediately drawn to his fingers. Ahh, he did end up doing most of the heavy labour.

“We didn’t even have to charm anyone into buying things this time,” you commented, before moving to the real thing you wanted to ask about, “by the way… are your hands okay?”

“This much?” he put his palms up, “is nothing~ had a lot worse.”

You don’t say anything in reply, merely staring at the small blemishes newly formed. It was minimal, pretty much shallow scratches, but it was there.

“Y’worried, babe?”

It was a slip of the tongue on his part, but neither of you seemed to mind. It rolled off pretty smoothly, and if asked about it he could easily say it was just a joke between the two of you— a little ‘affection’ to show how close you’ve gotten as friends.

Well, he thought, it wouldn’t be that much of a lie.

“No, not really,” you replied, mind too carried away elsewhere to pay any mind to the new pet name, “but you should still put on a band-aid or something.”

“Already said I was fine,” Banri replied, his eyes following your sudden upright movement as you headed inside the staff room. As he took the initiative to finish cleaning up so you two could head out for the night, the sight of you coming back out empty-handed had him befuddled.

“What’d ya even do in there?”

“So apparently we don’t have any stocked up,” you explained, quickly doing one last glance at today’s revenue, “so let’s stop by the convenience store later to get some… seriously, what if one of us gets pricked by a plant or something?”

If he decided to be honest, he would’ve told you that he already had one in his bag. A certain mother hen had forced him, Taichi, and Hyodo to carry one around and he’d learned a long time ago to not resist Omi over trivial things.

Still… it was pretty cute how you impulsively decided to go buy something because of him. There was no harm in hiding something to see this side of you more, right?

“Y’want me to come with?” he asked.

You turned around to give him a look. “Obviously? Then there’d be no point of buying it tonight rather than tomorrow.”

“Then take inventory faster… or do ya need my help for that, too?”

“Banri-kun~ you totally forgot to water the hyacinths, or do you need my help for that, too?”

Both of your comments are left hanging in the air, an, oddly enough, peaceful silence encompassing the room until,

“Might as well walk you home after this,” you turned around to face him in surprise, “it’s getting pretty late.”

“Already taking me home without even buying me dinner?”

“We’re going to the convenience store anyway, I’ll buy you something, whatever cold sandwich or fruit cup salad you want— my treat,” he joked, peals of laughter bursting from deep within as your eyebrows furrowed in incredulousness.

You rolled your eyes at him, but the smile on your lips betrayed your undeniable amusement. “Awww so sweet of you, but I can’t have you one-up me there. I’ll buy you the themed plasters— how does having hello kitty’s face around your fingers sound?” you retorted, easing yourself into laughter as well.

As the two of you walked along the sidewalk, side by side, you couldn’t help yourself from saying what’s been on your mind for the past week or so now.

“What we have is nice.”

Banri released a small huff, the corners of his lips stretching upwards. Even with its vagueness, the meaning rang clear.

“Yeah, I like what we have too.”

There was no need to rush into anything.

“ thank you for your hard work today at the flower shop! here, feel free to take home this pink hyacinth with you~ ”

【 hyacinth 】 games and sports, rashness 【 pink hyacinth 】 play

“ maybe you’d like some more flowers before heading home? ”

-ˋˏflower shop masterlistˎˊ- |  -ˋˏfic masterlistˎˊ-

[mrsgreenworld]

It's not easy to let go of the past

A/N: So I've had this very insistent idea for a while now. I decided to speculate way ahead. Let's imagine that it goes like this: Serkan breaks up with Eda without telling her the truth. Then Eda's grandmother comes into the picture. It's revealed that her and Efe have been working together to take the holding from the Bolats. Eda learns the truth about her parents' death from Efe or maybe her grandmother. She also finds out that Serkan knows about everything. Her grandmother's revenge plans are also revealed. However, Eda convinces Efe to help her stop her grandmother. All in all, the grandma capitulates, Efe sells back the shares. The Bolats don't lose the holding. Efe helps Eda move to Italy. She leaves and gets her degree.

That's just my imagination running wild 🤣

Let's imagine everything going down like this. This fic takes place 2 years after Eda leaves.

___________________________________________

Serkan opened his eyes way before his alarm clock was supposed to go off.

He went about his morning routine. He just moved on autopilot. Like all other mornings for the last 2 years.

2 years, 2 months, 3 weeks, 3 days, about 11 hours... without her.

Time without her seemed to drag on forever. 2 years felt like 2 lifetimes.

2 lifetimes that had brought him denial - first.

When he refused to accept that she was gone for good, that she had given up on them, on him. He called her. All his calls went into voicemail. Then her number was out of service. He tried going to her house only to find it empty. Ayfer Hanım and Melek moved house. The flower shop had been sold. He wasn't able to reach any of the girls either. They had simply blocked him.

That's when anger started.

He started taking it out on everyone in the office. Then one evening he crashed everything in his house. His parents and Seyfi came running because they had heard the noise. His mother and Seyfi barely managed to stop him from attacking his father. The next day Serkan moved out. He couldn't bring himself to go to the house he owned, where he and Eda had spent that one and only night together. He just found a completely new place instead.

Then it was time for bargaining.

He tried finding her. He found out that she wasn't at the university that she had initially applied to. Instead of taking advantage of his connections Serkan decided to go to Ceren. Out of all the girls she was the easiest to find. She was from a wealthy family of lawyers after all and worked in a prominent law firm. So Serkan just boldly waltzed into Ceren's office one day. She didn't throw him out. She didn't ask him to leave. She was patient and kind enough to actually talk to him. She asked him only one question:

"Do you love her, Serkan?"

"You know I do, Ceren. I love her more than anything and anyone in this world"

"I can tell you only one thing without betraying Eda's trust: things are going really well for her now. She looks maybe not quite happy yet but at peace. So if you truly love her the way you say you do, please, just let her go. Don't try to find her. Don't go to her. Don't try to bring her back. Don't ruin what she's managed to build for herself"

After that conversation with Ceren finally came depression. He just locked himself in his house. Stopped going to work and eventually left everything at Art Life to Pırıl and Engin. He didn't care much about the holding anymore. His father was still in charge and that made Serkan care even less.

But at least something good came from the period of depression: his mother was so worried about him that she went into therapy and after a while was able to leave the house. One day Aydan Hanım and Seyfi knocked on his door. When he didn't open it they just let themselves in using a spare key. They found him sitting on the floor in the living room, staring at the photo of him and Eda on his phone. He heard the steps and then - his mother's voice. That managed to pull him from his trance. He broke down then, a year after Eda's departure. He broke down in his mother's arms under the wave of happiness for her and under the weight of sorrow and acceptance. Acceptance of the fact that it was really over and Eda wasn't coming back. He had really lost her.

After that he pulled himself back together. He managed to create a resemblance of life in this state of numb resignation and acceptance. He travelled for two months around South America. When he returned, he got back to work at Art Life. His return was a true triumph. He had never been as productive, creative and successful as he was then. He even tried to reconsile with Selin but both of them very soon agreed that they were better off as friends.

And here he was 2 years, 2 months, 3 weeks, 3 days, about 11 hours later. Making breakfast for himself and his mother. Ever since Aydan Hanım started leaving the house, it had become their daily tradition - having breakfast together at Serkan's place, just the two of them. Sometimes it was Serkan making breakfast, sometimes he and his mother cooked together. Serkan treasured this everyday ritual.

A doorbell caught his attention and he went to let his mother in. He was greeted by her radiant smile and high-pitched: "Günaydın, canım!".

"Good morning, mom" Serkan said while returning his mother's enthusiastic hug.

They went into the kitchen and finished preparing breakfast. When everything was ready, they proceeded into a small patio. The day was calm and the weather - warm, so they decided that eating outside was a good idea.

"So, how are you, dear?" his mom asked after they were done eating and were just lazily drinking their coffee.

"You ask me this question every day, mom. Nothing's changed since yesterday morning"

"Well, today is not just any other day. Remember where you're supposed to be today?"

How could he forget. It was the first big event he had to attend since he was back. A big international business conference of architects and designers from all over the world.

He gave his mother a silent nod.

"And you know who's going to be hosting this event, right?" Aydan Hanım asked carefully.

"Of course I know, mom"

"So it's not going to be a problem?"

"Why should it be a problem?"

His mother just threw him a "Really?" look.

"It's fine, mom. I am fine. I haven't seen Efe Akman for over two years and it's not like we will have to work together. He's just hosting this conference. Despite our personal history with him, he's a recognised architect and he really is good at his work"

"Still don't like him after everything he did back then. And I don't think that seeing him is a good idea. Might trigger something... Maybe I should go too? Don't want to leave you alone"

"Don't be ridiculous, mom. I don't need a babysitter. Plus you're not ready for this yet. You haven't been anywhere except my house. Going to an event like this at a place that's completely new, where there will be hundreds of strangers... No, it will only overwhelm you. And I will have to worry about you among other things"

"Yes, of course you're right, dear. Then maybe take Seyfi with you?"

"For the love of god, mom! Stop it! I told you I don't need a babysitter" with a huff of annoyance Serkan rose from the table and started collecting the dishes.

"Ok, ok... Sorry. I will keep silent. You do what you want. You know what's best for you. But will you at least let me help you clean up?"

Serkan looked at his mother's pleading expression and the corner of his mouth twitched. He silently nodded and moved into the house.

"What was it? I think I saw an almost-smile" he heard his mother say at his retreating back.

He busied himself with washing the dishes. His mother joined him and started drying the plates. They worked without saying a word for a couple of minutes.

"You will one day, you know" his mother's quiet and cautious voice broke the silence.

Serkan looked at her and raised his eyebrows in question.

"You will smile and laugh again. I promise"

"You cannot promise something like this, mom. And I... I am not sure I know how to do this anymore"

"You will learn. You can learn. It's not impossible, my dear. I also thought I would never smile again after we lost your brother. But here I am. I even managed to leave the house. If I was able to do that, you will surely smile again one day. I know your smiles and your laughter will never be the way they were around her... But... Maybe it's not bad? It's just... different? And different can be good too. It can bring happiness"

"How do I become happy without her? If I love her this much but she's not here?"

"Oh, my dear boy! It's hard, I know. But you have to try. You have to be happy for you. No matter how much you love someone else, you have to love yourself first. And it doesn't make you selfish. It doesn't mean you don't love her anymore. But you said it yourself - she's not here. Don't you think that maybe the best way to honour this love is to let go of the past and allow yourself to be happy?"

A sob tore from his throat and he nodded frantically.

"You are right... I just... I am not ready yet"

"I know, I know... There's no rush, ok? I am not saying you have to do this now. It's not easy, it takes time. Just remember that when you feel ready, I will be there for you. Always"

"I know, mom. Thank you"

Aydan Hanım pulled her son into a tight hug.

Mother and son spent another 20 minutes together and after that Aydan Bolat left, leaving her son to prepare for the conference.

When Serkan was putting on and buttoning up his dress shirt he felt ready to face Efe Akman. However, there was a small tug in his chest, right under his heart. As if he needed to brace himself for something more than meeting with his former business partner-turned-rival.

"You're being paranoid" he huffed at himself.

Once he was ready, he grabbed his car keys and his phone. He looked dashing, collected and confident when he was climbing into his car. Nothing betrayed his typical Serkan Bolat facade. Nothing but a tiny gesture of him running his thumb over a band on his right hand.

[will-die-without-chai]

I have great taste!

A/N: This is my entry for Muskan’s 500 followers celebration! Congratulations again on this follower milestone Muski ( @thebookwormslytherin​ ) and I can’t wait to write for more such follower milestone celebrations. Also, thank you for hosting this!!!!! Love ya!.And forgive me for this less than subpar submission.

Also this is the first time I’ve tried writing for Sam Wilson so all feedbacks and criticism are most welcome! Hope I haven’t done too bad lol.

Pairing: Sam Wilson x desi!reader (she is not as desi as I wanted but whatevs)

Words: 2752

(College au, roomates au)

Warning: A couple of swear words (And this fic isn’t beta-ed...so)

Prompt: “You got a crush on me? Ew”

Summary: Y/N gets cheated on and had to move out of her ex’s boyfriend’s house. Luckily, Sam’s roomate is moving out as well creating a vacancy. Who knows what outcome staying with your friend can bring about? 

----------------------------------

“I know I am stupid and I never should’ve moved in with him so soon” Y/N sniffled and rubbed her red puffy and tear filled eyes dry with the sleeve of the shirt she had on as she whispered and hiccupped through berating herself after the revelation she had made that very morning. “But I cannot stay in that house Natasha! Not anymore! What do I do?” Natasha, ever concerned, patted her back, sympathy etched deep into her features whilst Y/N continued to whisper her despair into the table top where her head lay. . 

Y/N had just that very morning discovered her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend with his tongue deep in some other person’s mouth, while naked, on the bed they shared. Y/N had been out for the night, studying with Natasha for the upcoming exams and had unexpectedly gone home early in the morning to grab some notes only to be met with the devastating sight.

Needless to say, Y/N bolted out of the very apartment she called home for the past few months, holding back the bile and the tears rising to surface rapidly and rushed back to Natasha’s place which was only a couple of blocks away to unleash the slew of tears and heartbreak.

The sound of the jingling of the lock and the shuffling of shoes against the hardwood announced the return of the boys who had left the girls the night before to  their own devices and had shifted themselves to do whatever it is that college boys do. Steve, Sam and Bucky certainly hadn’t anticipated the sight before them and already had their hackles raised, ready to have a faceoff with whatever had caused unease to their friends, but instantly settled down when Natasha motioned them to. Y/N also had significantly been drawn out of her crying stupor at their entrance.

The boys had the decency to not pry into the matters and let things be told to them, they had learned from previous experiences after all. Nat looked at Y/N and she nodded.

“Y/N went to her apartment this morning and saw Rumlow sticking his tongue deep into someone’s throat. So…” The room went into an uproar and chaos ensured as if all hell had broken loose. A chorus of “Damn it” and “I’ll fuck him up” and certain more colorful words were heard, which were then stopped and the rage was coaxed down by one menacing gaze from Natasha and a tearful sob from Y/N.

Steve immediately found his place beside Y/N and held her under the crook of his arms, hugging her tightly and Bucky and Sam settled for sitting across from them, sympathy and rage and sorrow in equal measures creeping into their features as she once again resumed crying into Steve’s shirt.

After loads of incomprehensive mumbling and sobbing till her throat felt like sandpaper and she could go no further due to exhaustion, Y/N raised her head to face the rest of the group around her. “Now that I have sufficiently rubbed tears and snot all over Steve’s clothes” She snorted causing chuckles to emanate from other’s mouths, “I have to figure out where I am going to stay, given my imminent homelessness.”

“Stay here!  I can crash on the sofa, you can take the room. Nat and Buck already sleep in their room.” Steve piped in from beside her. Bucky nodded in agreement as did Nat.

A small frown took over her face. “No, no” She shook her head. “I can’t. You three are already… I can’t make you sleep on a couch in your own house, Stevie. And I cannot couch crash with the amount of stuff I have. I am definitely not going to let that asshole keep my furniture. They’re too cute and costed a fortune” This was enough to cause smiles to spread on their faces.

“That’s my girl!” Bucky cheered on.

“Yeah so I need more permanent options.”

“What about Tony? We can talk to him—“

“Not Tony!” Y/N cut Bucky off mid sentence. “I am not going to stay with Tony for the same reason Steve won’t. He wouldn’t accept rent and I’ll feel guilty and highly uncomfortable living in that state of art house. How the fuck do you have sex there Steve? Aren’t you afraid you’ll break something?” Steve turned red at the mention of his sex life and Bucky and Sam snickered like a schoolgirl. Natasha, noticing the very apparent discomfort cleared her throat pointedly.

“What about your old apartment?”

 “I think the landlord already rented it to someone else.”

Sam, who had been silent thus far finally decided to speak up, “Riley is moving out in a couple of days. I haven’t looked for anyone yet and I am sure I can’t afford the rent by myself.” He looked at her meaningfully.

Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Of course! Oh you’re a savior Sammy!” She jumped up to hug him and sagged in relief when he wrapped his hands around her.

“Yeah, yeah.” He tried to say nonchalantly but the tender kiss he placed on the top of her head that was buried into his side and the tense look he shot at Natasha who had been wiggling her eyebrows at him betrayed his emotions to the rest of the occupants of the room if not to the object of the emotions.

~~

All of Y/N’s stuff had been picked up and packed into the second-hand pickup truck Bucky owned. ‘It has a certain amount of personality’ he had said when buying it against the wishes of everyone around him. Certain choice words had been spat at Rumlow and papers had been thrown at his face dramatically and tears had been held back satisfactorily. Sam had to be contained to avoid him throwing punches and the party had been successful at extracting all important things from the apartment, furniture included.

It didn’t take much time for Y/N to settle into her new living space. She was fairly familiar with the apartment given all the time she previously spent there trying to make sense of her chemistry notes with Sam. And even though it was a house previously lived in by a couple of boys, it was surprisingly very clean. Her furniture, after a lot of moving it around was satisfactorily placed and dare she say complemented the preexisting stuff in the house very well. (The blue of the couch matched the gray of the curtains Sam had picked very well. He did have a good taste after all!)

It took merely 2 months for them to settle into a nice routine. Sam, the early riser, was responsible for breakfast. Pancakes or waffles or eggs and bacon. He was a masterful breakfast cook and Y/N was forced to adopt healthy eating habits after not much persuasion. Sam had replaced his caffeine fix with Chai*. Although chai was left to be Y/N’s department of expertise. He had tried making it once and it ended with what looked like a grimace and a forced smile on Y/N’s face. Tea making was a talent he didn’t possess.

After her classes finished for the evening, Y/N would go and hang out in the café Sam part-time worked at so they could head back home together. Dinner was on Y/N and her grandma who guided her through video calls had apparently taken a liking for Sam. He had definitely heard whispered conversations in a language he didn’t understand much of and his name being mentioned often. Anyhow, study nights were all the more easier when both the members of the group occupied the same house and there was no fear of notes getting mixed up and rushing over to each other in between lectures to exchange them back. . Life was a well oiled machine when lived with appropriate people, after all.

They had also adapted the system of movie nights. Both had found each other lacking in their own definition of pop culture and had decided to teach the other and make them a respectable member of society, wise enough to get popular references. Saturday nights were mostly unoccupied and hence were conveniently movie nights. Each picked one movie, unseen by the other on alternate weeks. And oh boy, it was an event.

The couch was loaded with throw pillows and blankets, temperature was brought down and hoodies were worn for utmost comfort. Popcorn was popped, candies were bought a plenty and if the occasion called for it, or the ambience of the movie, beer was welcomed. And on occasion, they even fell asleep on the couch (If their backs were witches, they would’ve been cursed by now).

One such night, after loud exclamations of ‘How could you not have watched it!’ and ‘She was my bi awakening!’ and ‘This would not be borne’, Pride and Prejudice was the movie they settled upon. By the end of the movie a half asleep Y/N had ended up draped halfway over Sam with her head comfortably nestled into the crook of his shoulders and neck, her every breath peacefully lulling Sam into the state of drowsiness. Sam knew from previous experiences aplenty that he would regret sleeping like this in the morning but he couldn’t be bothered right now. Future Sam could deal with a bit of back pain.

“It would be nice to have someone to tell you that they love you most ardently. I wish I could have someone tell me that they love me most ardently and mean it.” Y/N mumbled with her eyes closed.

“I will if you let me.” Sam subconsciously let it slip and then tensed up immediately when he realized what he had said. When he did not feel any reaction, he relaxed back again but not without a frown. He half wished she were awake and could listen to what he had said. At least that way it would have been out and on the table. It would also be terribly painful if she didn’t feel the same and ended up feeling uncomfortable around him.

It had taken a very long time for Y/N to again be comfortable and confident after her breakup. She was apparently very serious about the asshole and he had broken her heart. Good thing Sam reciprocated by breaking his nose! (Don’t tell Y/N though. She thinks Brock broke his nose when he fell down the stairs. This was not completely a lie… Sam did push him down the stairs as well. Don’t worry. There were just 5 steps)

Anyhow, it was getting tough for him to control his emotions around her. He couldn’t help but stare at her when she laughed so openly at his lame jokes. He couldn’t help but stare at her lips when she tasted his newest experimentation on pancake batter. He couldn’t help his eyes when they inadvertently went towards her table, when he was supposed to pay attention to the order in front of him at the café. He couldn’t help but deviate towards her at any given chance. He couldn’t help but savor all her little touches. And he was afraid that he was painfully obvious. If not to her then to everyone else around him.

All these thoughts kept encircling his brain and he fell asleep, clutching Y/N a little bit closer than before, burying his nose further into her hair. Morning came and Sam surprisingly woke up alone with a blanket draped over him. Generally he was the first to wake up. He got up and followed the noises coming from the kitchen to see Y/N making breakfast. And of course, chai. Some old Hindi song played on the radio softly and he could see the hello kitty apron he had bought for her as a joke hastily thrown on, its back untied.

It was a picture of serenity, to an outsider maybe. But Sam knew there was something off. Y/N getting up this early, cooking and old hindi songs playing was a deceptive picture that screamed something was bothering her.

“You cooking something, hon?” He said out loud as he made his way to the dining table. Y/N jumped slightly at being startled and then nodded enthusiastically. Almost too enthusiastically. Sam narrowed his eyes. Without turning to face him Y/N explained further. “You were asleep. I woke up early and thought I could make something. It’s been days since we’ve had poha*, no?”

Sam kept quiet and decided to take out plates and set the table instead. They kept working silently but the silence was too heavy. It settled over his skin thickly and Sam didn’t like the feeling. Once they were sat on the table Sam decided to bring up the subject again, the silence and awkwardness becoming a little troubling.

“What’s wrong Y/N? You know you can share it with me. I am here.” He said, placing a comforting hand on hers. Her eyes that were focused on her plate shot unto his face.

“I heard what you said last night.” She blurted out, eyes still trained at him. Sam was stunned into silence and his heartbeat rose rapidly. It was incredibly unexpected and sudden and Sam was caught off guard. Incredibly so.

“You- you did.” He stammered stupidly. Y/N nodded. “I was on the verge of drifting off and I heard it and I-“ She fell silent, her eyes slipped to where his hand rested on hers, her teeth automatically trapping her bottom lip between them.

“I like you. Like like you. I have, since the day we met at Steve’s party and you went on and on about tea and how to make it and how coffee could never compare and you weren’t even drunk!” Y/N let out a chuckle at that and Sam continued. “I couldn’t help but fall for you and I looked for reasons to spend time with you, snatching every opportunity to have you around me. I know I am sounding like the cheesiest cheesy person, like a kraft’s dinner but add cheddar to it level of cheesy, but you being happy makes me so fucking happy! And that’s the point. I can bear to see you be sad and if this makes you uncomfortable, tell me to stop. I will. I won’t mention this ever again and we could go back to being us and you aren’t obligated to reciprocate my feelings or anything. But I think I don’t have it in me to keep it in anymore.”

He finally looked up to look at her and maybe take a breath after the rant he just had in one go and found her still staring at their hands. Assuming that it made her uneasy, he proceeded to take it away, his heart sinking. But he was stopped by her fingers grasping at his sleeves.

She peered from under her tear laced lashes to look at him. “You have a crush on me? Ew” she let out a sound that sounded like something between a sob and a snort and a smile spread across her lips. “I thought you had better taste.” She joked albeit a bit bashfully.

Sam felt a weight lift off his chest and the urge to bang his head against an iron pole reduced significantly. “Hey, I have great taste! I picked up those gray curtains that go so well with your blue couch and that you love very much. Also I introduced you to real maple syrup and took you away from that ‘aunt jemima’ bullshit you were poisoning yourself with.”

“Hey I am a college student who earns just enough to fulfill my bare necessities so give me a break! That shit is costly. And I was the one who introduced you to Mukesh*, okay?” She held his hand now and intertwined her fingers with his.

“Goes to say how good my taste is.”

“I like you too.”

Silence fell over them once again as they giddily looked at each other and held hands, the chai long gone cold and the poha turned a little stiff. But the silence now was palatable, pleasant even.

~~

A couple days  later, chaos ensued again in their little group when Y/N planted a sound kiss on Sam’s lips before separating from the group with a quick cheeky ‘goodbye’ to go to her class. The chorus of ‘How?’ and ‘When?’ and ‘I want details’ and a quiet call of ‘who won the bet then’ left hanging in the air for Sam to answer.

~~

*Translations:

Chai: Chai is tea ofcourse. But its also more than tea. Its an concoction made of tea, water, milk, sugar and spices all meticulously brought to a boil and then heated some more. It is a thing that requires practice, but also some magic.

Poha: Poha is a breakfast food made of flattened rice flakes sauted with onions and other vegetables and spices, according to one’s preferences hich is served warm with a dash of lemon and a sprinkling of coriander (Varun Thakur’s stand up, anyone?) 

Mukesh: A very illustrious, very very famous indian musician from the 60′s and 70′s. He had the voice of an angel.

------------------------------------

Hope this was a bearable read! As said earlier, feedback and criticism is always welcome!

Tagging: @spiderrpcrker​ @officially-tonynat-shrine​ @hoeticulture​ @dragoncreek319​ @severelytinyeagle​ @lgbtonystarks​ @cynical-ravenclaw​ @fandom-is-my-middle-name​ @emilyshurley​ @fiovske​ @bispiderson​ @moonbeambucky @revengingbarnes @shurisneakers @kuuhakublank00 @stardustandbucky @infj-slytherclaw @anjali750 @your-villainous-neighbour @viktorkrumn

[cassiopeiassky]

When Everything’s Made to be Broken (I Just Want You to Know Who I Am) Part 54

Hey look at me go, it hasn’t even been a month since my last update (yes, my bar is that low)! Hey I hope you are all doing alright.  These are scary times, remember to do your best to take care of you, I know it isn’t easy.  Be as kind as you can to yourself - you deserve it.

So this part is dedicated to @iwillbeinmynest - happy late birthday, my darling Kate!  I hope it’s worth the wait <3

This part is also dedicated to the great Stan Lee.  The world he created gave me a safe place to escape to when my own world was too dark to survive.  I owe him so much, and this chapter is so unworthy but it’s all I’ve got.  I can only hope that he’d get a kick out of his cameo. 

Plot:  When you inadvertently become a witness to a murder and are suddenly a target for death, it takes a specially skilled soldier and his team to keep you and your family safe.

This will eventually be a is a reader x Bucky fic. The reader, by the way, is a civilian. No super powers, no fighting skills, and by no means perfect.  

Word count: 4891 

Warnings:

For the entire work:  Language (I have a potty mouth), violence, and angst.  This will probably get pretty dark later on, and there will be smut.  If that’s not your thing, you may want to avoid this story.

Additional warnings specific to this part: Feels and emotions. Therapy, mentions of trauma.  They’re dealing with the aftermath now, so there are parts that are kinda heavy.  

***I do not own any of the lyrics/music in this story, so please don’t sue me for using them***

Tags moved to the end.

WEMtbB Masterlist

Previously on WEMtbB:

“Look, I think it’s safe to say that we all know you can take care of yourself.  You don’t have to take it if you don’t want to.”  The covers slide down, showing his torso as he sits up to face you.  “That said, I’d like to remind you about a certain conversation we had at home about us taking care of each other.  I know I didn’t specifically include my team at the time, but they’re your team now, too. They’re your family.  You know this.  It’s okay to let us take care of you – shit, Sweetheart, you take care of us all the time.”

“Okay, but cooking dinner for everyone isn’t the same thing as a credit card.”

“Doll, you don’t want to eat Stark’s cooking.  Please, I beg you, let him reciprocate with American Express.  You can’t get food poisoning that way.”  The look in his blue eyes would be comical if he didn’t seem quite so serious.

You’re still uneasy about having access to someone else’s money, but you reluctantly concede.  They are family – Thanksgiving and Christmas should have already proven that to you, even before they did what they did to save you. Still…pride, independence, and your improved but still deeply embedded insecurities are trying to make their insidious whispers into roars.  “It’s weird,” you finally mutter as you fiddle with one of your stuffie’s satin lined ears.

He snorts and nods.  “I got a metal arm and Stevie and I both have three digits to our age, Banner goes from mild mannered doctor to a big green rage monster when necessary, Stark flies around the world in glorified soda can, and I haven’t even introduced you to the witch, the god, the floating red guy, and the…I don’t know, whatever the hell Loki is.  Trust me, Stark giving you a credit card so you have a little bit of freedom while you’re here is the least weird thing about this situation.”

Well, when he puts it that way…

“Why is it so loud?” Bucky watches as you pace in front of the expansive bedroom window, phone at your ear.  The ringing is practically echoing, it’s distracting and –

“Breathe for me, Sweetheart.”  Steady hands grip your shoulders, interrupt your restless movement, and kinda sorta help to ground you.

Shit.  Your heart is hammering almost as loud as –

“Hello?” Familiar.  Hopeful.  Safe. You should reply, tell her that it’s you, but you’re too busy hanging on to the sound of her voice.  “Hello?  Hello?!” Annoyed.  Indignant.  Already ready to hang up.

Your lips finally allow a smile at the sound.  Seriously, your mom has the patience of a 2-year-old on a sugar high.  It’s good to know at least this hasn’t changed.  

Right then and there, you promise yourself to never again take her phone calls for granted.  “Hi, Mom.”

Silence.  Then tears, followed by questions, answers, questions, answers. You weren’t sure you’d ever hear her voice again, so she has to occasionally repeat things because you were so focused on the sound of her talking – you had to repeat several times too, and you’re sure for the same reason.  Yes, you’re safe.  Yes, you’re sure.  Yes, the boys are doing well, and they miss you like crazy.  Yes, your mom followed the instructions of the team and kept things quiet.  No, she wasn’t happy about it.  Yes, Wanda and Vision are still there – they are going to help your mom with the transition of your return and letting the rest of the family know what happened.  Yes, the boys finally settled into a routine and their sleep schedule is back to somewhat normal.  Yes, you were shot in the leg but you’re healing well.  Yes, you should be home soon.  Yes, you’ll give her the details later.  Yes, you really are safe.  Really.

Loud giggles and doors slamming break through the stream of conversation and your heart moves back up to your throat.  It feels life forever since their voices graced your ears and you can’t wait to see what they have to say.  But you’re not ready.  What if -

Tears and a smile are in your mom’s voice.  “Grandpa and the boys just got back from the coffee shop – he was showing them off to the other old hens again.  Do you want to talk to them?”

Mouth suddenly dry, you nod, but that doesn’t do any good.  She can’t see you because you’d decided to call rather than use video chat; although much better than it was, your skin is still healing and you don’t have any make up yet to hide the fading bruises.

“Honey?”

“Yeah, Mom.  Put them on, please.”  Bucky leads you to sit at the edge of the bed before climbing up behind you to rub your shoulders.

“Breathe, Sweetheart.” Bucky’s steady presence is a lifeline. The gentle admonition brings you back – breathe in, breathe out.  Almost giggle when you hear your mom swear and fumble with putting the phone on speakerphone; there’s a good possibility the boys have learned some new language.

“MommaMommaMomma!!”

As quietly as you can, you choke down the sob that is steadily working its way out. ��God you’d missed Jimmy’s voice.

“Hi, baby.  I love you so much.”  It’s all you can manage just now.

“I love you, Momma!  I miss you.  Come home now!”  in your mind’s eye you can see his dimples, how he’s trying to cradle the phone to his ear because he doesn’t quite get the idea of speakerphone, how he’s probably jumping up and down.  His words are clearer than they were when you left…how much has he grown?  How much did you miss?

“Have you been having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yep!  We went with Grandpa.  We got donuts!  And uncle Jerry was there!  He gave us a toy.  Come home now, Momma.  I want to show you something!”

Every bit of your focus goes to listening to your son, to his words and trying to decipher just how much he’s changed in the weeks you’ve been apart.  He clearly had an explosion in his language development and it kills you that you missed it.  “I’m working on it, baby.  I’ll be home soon.”

“Bucky?  Bucky, too?”

That brings a smile to your face – you should have known.  “Yes, Bucky, too.”

Your mom breaks in, sounding more than a little concerned.  “Are you sure you’re really safe?”

“Yeah, I am.  I promise.”  You’ll tell her a million times if you need to.  

“So then why is he coming home with you?  Why do you still need the protection?”

Oh, shit.  Right.  She doesn’t know.  This conversation should probably happen in person.  “Um…I’ll explain later.  But I promise, everything is fine.  Hey, can you put Artie on the phone?”

“Honey, he, um,” in the background you can just barely make out the sound of your dad trying to convince Artie to come out of the bathroom, “he’s –“ an ungodly screech pierces the air, “he’s just –“

“He’s mad.  He doesn’t want to talk to me.”  Damn.  It hurts just as much as you thought it would.  “It’s okay, Mom.”  It’s not. Not at all.  “I’ll try again later.”  That’s the truth, at least.

“He just needs a little time.  He took it really hard when you had to go.  Well, they both did, but Artie especially.  I couldn’t convince him that you were trying to come back.”  She knows what happened, at least the broad outline of it; there’s no judgement in her voice.  “He, uh, he thought –“

Might as well just say it and spare your mom the discomfort.  “That I left just like his daddy.”

There’s a long pause before she finally answers.  “Yeah.”

What can you even say to that?  You certainly don’t blame him – you’d had that very thought yourself.

Jimmy’s earnest little voice breaks in, “Momma, Artie loves you.  He’s bein’ a butt right now.  But he loves you.”  He’s a perceptive little man; it’s good to know that’s still the same.  A sob and a chuckle mix ungracefully, but that’s okay. And since when did Jimmy start calling people ‘butts?’

“Thank you, baby.  Um, Mom?”

Her sheepish voice comes across just a second later.  “Sorry, honey.  He probably got that from me.”

A laugh, small but genuine, comes out.  “That’s okay. I learned all my best phrases from you, so I guess we’ll just call it the family legacy.”  Deep breath in.  Out.  “Hey, I should get going.  I need to get my leg checked out before I meet with the person coordinating my mental health recovery care.”

“I – okay, honey.  I love you so much, and I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“I love you, too, Mom. Jimmy?”

“I love you, Momma!  I don’t want you to go.  Come back.  Please?” His cheerful excitement is replaced with an almost palpable desperation, and just like that, your heart breaks all over again.  

“Yes, baby, I’m coming home soon.  I’ll call you later today, okay?”

“Promise?”  He sounds suspicious but hopeful.

“Yes, I promise.”

“Okay.”  Jimmy sounds resigned, and you can hear your mom prompting him in the background.  “Love you, Momma.”

“I love you, too, Jimmy. So much.”

“Later today?  Before bed?  You will call?”

“Yes, Jimmy.  I promise.”

“Okay bye!”

There’s just a bit of silence before your mom’s voice comes back.  “He’s going to be okay, honey.  They both will.”

You can only hope.  Swallowing hard, you continue, “Hey, can you please put the phone by wherever Artie can hear me?”

“Yes…here you go.”

“Artie?  Baby?”  There’s no response, but you knew there wouldn’t be.  “Artie, I love you so much.  I’m so sorry that I had to leave, but I promise I’m coming back.  Okay?  I love you so, so much.  It’s okay that you’re mad.  I understand. I will call later today, and if you feel like talking, I’ll be here to listen, okay?”  Still no answer.  You will never know how you managed to keep the devastation out of your voice.  “Okay.  It’s okay. I love you, baby.”

Footsteps, and then, “He loves you, too.  He does.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you.  “I know, Mom.”

“It’s just going to take some time.”

“I know.”  You hope, anyway.

“You’ll call later?”

“Yes, absolutely.”

“Alright honey, you take care of yourself and get better, okay?  We all miss you.”

“I know.  I miss you, too.  I miss you so much.”  You stop to clear the thickness out of your throat, “I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It’s too hard to say goodbye, so instead you just end the call and put the phone down.  Time to get ready for the rest of the day.

* * *

“Do not hold your breath, dear one.  Breathe through the movement,” Galina coaches gently as she guides you through some strength exercises.  

You’ve already been at this for 45 minutes, and you still can’t get over the fact that your leg doesn’t hurt like you think it should.  There’s a deep, almost bone shaking ache to it now that you’ve been pushing yourself a bit, but it certainly isn’t what you would have expected from a recovering bullet wound.

“Good,” she watches with an eagle eye as you correct your breathing, “very good.”

“This is weird.  I’m not complaining, but my brain just seems to not want to accept that my leg is better than it thinks it should be.”

She laughs a little as she taps some notes into her tablet.  “I suppose it makes sense that there is a bit of dissonance between your brain and body; most patients with this type of injury would still be recovering in the surgical ward. You are very lucky to have received Dr. Cho’s patch.  I have seen injuries like yours that have resulted in a lifelong limp, and that was with good care and a qualified physical therapist.”

It hurts your heart to think of the things she’s seen – legs with a permanent limp seem like the least of the potential horrors.  You finish your reps, then rise to stand next to her.  “Thank you for taking care of me, Galina.  I really do appreciate it.”

Her hand reaches to cup your cheek, “Dear one, it is my pleasure.  Thank you for allowing me.  It cannot be easy given everything you have been through.”

It baffles you how she can be so concerned about you – she’s lost everyone she loved most, and it makes you wonder how she can keep going, how she can even smile.  Throwing any sense of formality to the wayside, you pull Galina into an impromptu hug.  It’s easy to see she doesn’t mind.  You’re far from the only person in this building that is in the process of healing.

When she pulls away, you’d swear there are tears in her eyes but you don’t get the opportunity to ask before she starts speaking.  “Would you like to join me for some coffee?  Or do you need some rest before you meet with Dr. Lee?”

“I’d actually love some company – and the caffeine is a bonus.  Bucky said he’d probably be at least 2 hours with his therapist, and I’m trying not to sleep during the day so I can get back to a normal sleep schedule.”

“Mmm,” Galina nods drily, “Jetlag is a heartless bitch, yes?”

You burst out laughing at her comment.  It feels good.  “It is. It really is.”

* * *

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous, Buck.  It isn’t like I’ve never seen a therapist before.”  The two of you are standing outside the room serving as an office for Dr. Lee, and there’s a heavy dread hanging over you at the prospect of walking through that door.  “I mean, for fuck’s sake, I want to be one.  What is my problem?”

Bucky rubs your back as he holds you close.  “Do you want me to stay with you?”

The deep breath you take fills your lungs with his comforting smell, grounding you.  “Mmm,” your voice is muffled from having your face smushed into his shirt, “that’s actually really tempting.”  The breath is released in a somewhat defeated sigh, “But I need to do this on my own.  I, um, I also don’t want you to have to relive my experience.”  You can feel that he’s about to protest, so you quickly continue, “I know you’d go – and I thank you for it – but I don’t know that I can be completely open and honest with my therapist if you were there because I’d want to protect you from hearing it.”  Shrugging as you take a step back, you meet his troubled eyes, “I know you know what happened.  But that doesn’t mean I want you to hear me say it.  And yes,” you cut him off before he can interrupt, “we will talk about it. In time.  It’s not that I’m trying to keep anything from you because I’m not. I just –“

“It’s different when you’re talking to a therapist.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, relieved that he understands.  “It’s different.”

A hug and a kiss and five minutes later find you sitting across from an older gentleman with thick 70s style glasses.  His kindly smile flashes beneath a thick, grey mustache as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater.

You feel like you need to say something to fill the silence.  “Um, thank you for meeting with me, Dr. Lee.”

“Oh,” his smile is meant to put you at ease, and it does, somewhat.  “No need to be formal.  Please, call me Stan.”

Nodding, you swallow hard.

He begins with explaining how this will work – he’s having this meeting with you in order to pair you with a suitable therapist from his team, who then will fly in later today to begin working with you tomorrow.  Stan and his partner will remain onsite with you and Bucky as long as you are in New York, and will then do remote sessions for as long as needed.  He’s happy to work with you if for whatever reason your therapist doesn’t work out, although he prefers under normal circumstances not to work with both halves of a couple.  This doesn’t faze you – it’s pretty standard practice.  

Next are the inventories – of course you score astronomically high on the anxiety inventory and moderately high on the PTSD inventory, but surprisingly low on the depression inventory.  By the time you’re finished discussing them and your one month, three month, and six month goals, you’re fairly comfortable with Stan.  He’s nice and gives off a sort of wise, grandfatherly type vibe.  You can see why Bucky thinks so highly of him.

Then it gets ugly, but you knew it would.  In broad strokes you begin telling him of your experience.  Every now and then he asks for more details or clarification, but for the most part he just listens and makes occasional notes.  

Starting at the beginning brings some happy memories, once you get past the whole watching someone die and then having someone shoot at you part.  Yeah, saying goodbye to your mom was hard, but you still had hope that you’d see her again someday.  Then there was getting to know Bucky and the team.  Did you expect to find a best friend and fall in love with him?  Did you expect that this group of extraordinary individuals – people that you found intimidating and at first wrongly assumed you’d have absolutely nothing in common with – would become family?  God, no.  But you did, and they did.  There was fear and uncertainty, but there was also joy, acceptance, and love.  At the safehouse, in the most unexpected way, you found healing and a deep peace you’d never known before.

But then you recount falling sick from Metzger’s poison and the indescribable pain of leaving your kids…and Bucky.  As you describe Anatoliy and Nikolai Krakken – their threats, their causal cruelty, their laughter – you break into a cold sweat.  Nausea comes in waves with mentioning Grigory and Alric Metzger, and you’re almost drowning again in helpless desperation when you remember how they read Bucky’s second set of trigger words and the things they made him do.  You mostly stay away from the complicated confusion regarding Bucky’s part in your rescue; at this point you know you love him and that you harbor no resentment – you meant it when you said there was nothing to forgive – so the rest of the feelings that you can’t quite figure out can wait.  

You tell Stan of being locked in that godawful room for days on end under endless threats of harm, and the waiting.  God, the waiting – waiting to see what they would make Bucky do next, waiting to see if he did it, waiting to see when they would finally follow through with their terrible implications.  Then of course there were the little ways they would humiliate you, the dehumanizing way they refused to let anyone use your name, the misery of the formal dinners they forced you to attend…and…and the…the uh…    

Mikhail.

Stan keeps telling you that you’re okay, that you’re safe.  You know this is true on some level, but you sure as hell can’t feel it without –

“Bucky,” you finally gasp, and Stan acquiesces immediately.

Bucky must have been just down the hall, because his arms are around you within a minute of Stan’s call. It’s strange, you think, that the tighter he squeezes the easier it is for you to breathe.

When the room finally feels like it has enough air for the three of you, you continue, “I’m sorry, Stan. I didn’t expect to be quite this fragile.”

Even though you’re looking down into your lap, you can feel two sets of eyes boring into your skull.

Stan clears his throat. “You said you were going to school? You want to be a therapist?”

You nod first, then answer almost absentmindedly, “Uh huh.”

“Mmm.  Would you expect one of your clients to apologize for their emotional reaction while describing their trauma?”  As pointed as his question is, Stan’s voice is gentle.

He’s not going to let you not reply, so you give him the obvious answer.  “No.  Of course not.”

“So do you think it’s reasonable for you to expect yourself to not be, as you put it, fragile?”

“Um…”  You can practically feel Bucky daring you to deflect. “No.”

When you finally look up, Stan is nodding.  “Right. Cut yourself some slack.  Don’t hold yourself to expectations that you wouldn’t expect others to meet.”

He’s right.  You know he’s right.  “Easier said than done.”

“But not impossible,” he winks.  “You and Bucky are remarkably similar in this aspect.  With you, you’ve got extremely high expectations for yourself.  With him, it’s –“ Stan looks to Bucky, “May I discuss your progress a bit?”

“I already said you could,” Bucky smiles, then takes out his phone when it buzzes.  His features twist into something unfamiliar, but only for a second.  Turning to you, he apologetically shows you the screen.  “Nat’s here.”  His voice is tight; he tries to hide it but you know him too well.  “She got impatient and wants to take you shopping this afternoon.  What would you like me to tell her?”

“If I may,” Stan looks to you both, “I would recommend that you go shopping.  Today.”  His face is stern as he looks to Bucky.  “With Nat. And only Nat.”

Bucky manages to look both nauseous and sheepish as you glance between the two.

His phone buzzes again as you bite your lip.  “Um, I’ll go.”  You can’t say that you feel great about it; in fact, the idea of being separated from Bucky is mildly terrifying, but that’s kind of Stan’s point.  

“Good.  Bucky, go ahead and meet Nat while I finish up here. Have lunch together, and when they go shopping, you come here for your next session.”

Bucky nods but looks to you before moving.

“I’ll be okay, Buck.” Surprisingly, this feels like the truth. “Go ahead, I’ll join you when I’m done.”

“Alright.”  Bucky hesitantly gets up, but stoops to press a kiss against your forehead.  “I’ll see you soon.”  He clearly doesn’t want to go, but his respect for you eventually wins.

It’s quiet while he exits, but then Stan allows himself an almost satisfied smile.  “You know, Bucky doesn’t give himself enough credit.  I’m not sure if it’s the serum – if it also helps strengthen the mind as well as the body – but when he allows himself to be, he’s one of the most mentally and emotionally healthy people I’ve ever met, and I don’t just mean in spite of his trauma.  He knows what to do, he knows how to communicate, which is especially important.  The problem is, he sometimes gets in his own way.  Kind of like you and your unrealistically high expectations for yourself. I think for a long time it was a way to punish himself, almost a self-sabotage.  He’d learned to deal with the trauma but not so much the guilt.  He felt guilty not only about what he’d done while under HYDRA control, but also for falling victim to the torture in the first place – something he recognized no one else could have survived much less ignored, but he still wouldn’t even consider forgiveness for himself.  He felt guilty because he thought he should have been strong enough to withstand it.  Normally the guilt and trauma would go hand in hand, and dealing with one would deal with the other, but not in Bucky’s case.  He’d managed to separate them and not allowing himself to deal with the guilt was holding him back.”  Stan picks up a pen and starts tapping it against his chin, “He always wanted to get better, to be better.  He just couldn’t always convince himself that he deserved it.  You, though, you were – and are – his motivation to stop punishing himself and let go of the guilt.  Seeing and working with him today,” Stan shakes his head, “in spite of his new trauma, the improvement I see in him is incredible.  He wants to get better, but more importantly, he’s allowing himself to get better.  He’s stepping out of his way.”  Stan narrows his eyes at you, “Just like you need to do.  And that’s only going to happen if you cut yourself some slack. Perfection is an illusion and it has no place in healing.”

“I know,” you exhale heavily.

“Do you?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “I do.” Your being hard on yourself isn’t exactly a secret, even to you.

“So what would you tell me if our positions were switched?”

You sort of hate the way he’s going about this, but at the same time you have to admit it’s effective. “I’d tell you that all of your reactions are perfectly normal and that your emotions are valid.  I’d tell you to remember that progress isn’t linear, and that having a bad day, week, or even month doesn’t mean progress isn’t being made. I’d let you know that being with a therapist is a very specific type of vulnerability, and that it’s okay to feel and express those emotions.”

“And?”

“It’s okay to need help. And other people.”

Stan leans back in his chair, seemingly satisfied.  Smug bastard. “Good.  Well, I think I’ve got a good grasp on your particular needs, so I’ll have one of my colleagues, Dr. Patrice Cortez, fly in tonight.  I think she’ll be a great match for you – we graduated in the same class and have been working together ever since, but she specializes in women’s trauma.  I will still be available to you, of course, but as long as you are comfortable with her when you meet her tomorrow, she’ll be your primary therapist.”

“Okay.”  Genuinely grateful, you smile.  “Thank you very much.”  Suddenly exhausted, it takes a monumental effort to begin to rise.

“One more thing.”  He waits until you sit back into the couch. “And this is something I’ve addressed with Bucky, but since you’re here I’d like to mention it to you, too.”

“Okay.”

Stan looks up at the ceiling like he’s physically searching for the right words, “Your relationship is nothing short of extraordinary.”

Oh boy, here it comes. You know it’s coming from your mom, but you didn’t quite expect it here.  Well, maybe you did.  A little. “Are you going to tell me that it’s superficial and based on stressful circumstances, and that it won’t last in the real world?” You’d bristle if you had the energy, but as it is it just comes out flat.  

“What?  No, God no,” he speaks quickly, “Although that does happen. And I’d say that a majority of bonds that are formed under such stress don’t survive because they’re based on necessity, and once the necessity is gone, so is the bond.  I don’t think that’s the case with you and Bucky, though. It’s fairly obvious that you were friends first, and that your relationship is built on that.  Unusual circumstances threw you together, but the friendship grew organically, if quickly.”

You relax, just a bit. It’s been on your mind; not that you doubt your feelings – or Bucky’s – but you do know how it looks.  And just like the first night the team found out, your relationship with Bucky is something you’re prepared to defend.

“The thing I wanted to mention is the danger of co-dependency.”

Ah.  That makes sense.

“You two have been through a lot.  A lot. And it’s good and important that you can lean on one another, inspire and encourage each other, and grow together. But it’s also important that you grow on your own.  You are two individuals sharing a life.  If you can’t thrive separately, then in trying to thrive together you will choke each other out.”

You nod – he’s not wrong.

“Did Bucky mention that he is having a difficult time with the idea of you going shopping with Nat?”

You think for a moment. “No, but I guess I assumed it wouldn’t even happen until tomorrow, so we really haven’t talked about it at all.”

“He is.  He’s struggling with the idea of you being without his protection, even though you are certainly more than safe with Nat. Bucky is almost paralyzed with fear that he will lose you.  And I can see that the idea bothers you as well.”

“Yeah,” you admit.  “Even though everyone seems to agree that the threat is over, it’s still scary.”

“It is.  It absolutely is.  But is it healthy for either of you to live in that fear?”

Exhaling deeply, you answer honestly.  “No.  It isn’t.”

“Right.  Although it is certainly understandable, it isn’t healthy. Now, I’m not suggesting that you two separate.  Quite the contrary, actually.  It’s just something to be cognizant of, something to keep in mind as you start the healing process.  Push your boundaries early and often, and I think you’ll surprise yourself.  You are both incredibly resilient people.”

“I, um, I do worry that I’ll get too needy, if I’m not already.  And then sometimes I worry that I’ll push him away.”

“And he worries that he’ll suffocate you with his desire to see you safe.  It’s why he asked me today to make sure I have a session planned with him when you go out, although I think he also expected it would be tomorrow.”

Another deep exhale.  

“The therapy program we’re putting together for you two is pretty intense.  But for what it’s worth, I think you’re both on the right track. Just make sure you allow yourself to feel what you’re feeling – but be careful of focusing too much on the bad because your anxiety can and will manipulate your perceptions.  Remember that it’s okay to feel contradicting emotions, and trust yourself.  Rest in each other and support each other, but don’t depend on each other for healing. That’s something you need to do on your own.  Perhaps together in parallel fashion, but still individually.”

“Hearing this is oddly comforting,” you admit.

“Based on what I’ve seen, I think it’s because it’s stuff you already know.  I also suspect that it was perhaps how you two operated before you were taken, but after what you went through you just need to feel like you have permission to put it back into practice.”

Why does everything make so much sense when Stan says it?  “You know, I think you’re right.  I – I don’t think I’ve ever worked with a therapist like you, either through school or personally.  You’re very effective.”

He smiles broadly, “Well, being on the team serving the Avengers is fairly unconventional, and sometimes we have to modify programs in unusual ways to fit our clients’ unique needs. Which is what any good practitioner should do, really.”  He shrugs, “But rest assured that our methods are grounded in evidence-based practice, and that my entire team is held to the strictest standards regarding ethics and client outcomes.”  Stan leans forward, eyes sparkling, “And we have very good outcomes.  It’s going to take some work, but you, my dear, are going to be just fine.  And so is Bucky.”

You find yourself nodding. You believe him.

@hellomissmabel @howdoesoneadult  @nykitass @danimuhle @iwillbeinmynest  @shifutheshihtzu @passiononfire  @learisa @widowvinter  @kaaatniss @ladylizzieofdarbyshire @denialanderror  @k-nighttt @givemethatgold @manders2487 @afangirlrambles @polkadottedpillowcase @bluebrrn @saysay125  @aikibriarrose @saharzek @mmauricee @imhereforbvcky  @whenallsaidanddone @supernatural508  @scarlettsoldier  @natalie-nightcourt  @im-beautifully-sewn  @lovemarvelousfics  @feistytravel  @tbetz0341  @nearly-whitches  @jamie-leah  @shliic  @dessinemoiunehistoire  @lucywinchester2000  @solarbarnes  @a-proper-chicken  @movingonto-betterthings @seekingkairos    @part-time-patronus  @natashasnight   @fairislesheets @beccaanne814 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub  @scottish-pepper

[meditating-dog-lover]

Health and Fitness Update (05/09/2021)

So I had a much better week this time.

I finished my classes and my exam, so now I never have to go back to school ever again.

This took a giant load of stress off my back, it genuinely did. My life is headed in a positive direction. I am so happy and relieved, I feel like I can smile and breathe again. I feel less miserable.

I feel like I can dedicate more time to my personal health now. This includes better sleep, better scheduling, physical care, self-care, etc... I have many improvements to make, I'm definitely looking forward. I might even consider going to a spa. There should be a good one in the new area I'm moving too. Less screen time is another big one. I feel like this past year aged me a lot, I need to take it easy and slow down.

I still have my thesis left, but to be honest I am almost done. All I need to do is write my Powerpoint, get that and my thesis reviewed, submit those and present. I've presented slides a handful of times before so it shouldn't be a big deal. Since I'm way less stressed now, this won't be much of a bother for me. And after that, I get to leave my lab and take a breather. I worked so hard on this and I am so exhausted.

I am moving to a house in a month. I am definitely looking forward. It's in a very nice area. I haven't lived in a comfortable house since 2009 so I'm happy to be able to live in one now! The driving in that area isn't as crazy as it is here, so I'll be doing a lot of that once I move. I'll have way more time to do that since I have much less work to do.

I also get to see my grandma in a few months, and I really can't wait. I miss her so much and I haven't seen her since 2 Decembers ago because of COVID. I've also been spending a lot of time with my dad and I am so happy about that.

I feel like I can go back to my old self-care routine and go back to enjoying the cute fun stuff I used to enjoy like reading, writing, history, arts, music, old movies, etc... I definitely lost interest in these things. I know losing interest in the stuff you love is a sign of depression. However I cannot make that conclusion about myself since I was never diagnosed by a medical professional. But I certainly know that I was feeling super miserable. Thankfully I am starting to feel better.

I am getting my second vaccine shot on the 19th. 2 weeks from then I can wear my mask less often which is great.

I have my dentist appointment in a few days. To be honest, I got the hang of taking better care of my teeth. Eat less refined sugar, eat more fat soluble vitamins, eat more minerals, drink water in between meals, take a supplement, brush, use mouthwash, floss, and sleep well. I just need to find a good long-term toothpaste and learn to breathe from my nose while sleeping. Going to the dentist every six months helps too.

I am slimming down more and more each day. I found a super healthy approach to health and fitness since January. I eat foods I really enjoy and foods that taste great. I learned to cook and bake, which itself is a form of art. I just make sure to eat balanced and to take it easy on sugar and fat. In terms of exercise, I found that a balanced routine works - cardio (both LISS and HIIT) and strength training (bodyweight and weight lifting) does the trick. I am going to start exercising 3x a week rather than 4 because 4 is a lot. Plus I'll do 1x bodyweight, 1x HIIT , 1x weight lifting, and several times per week walking (whenever I can really). I'm going to keep this up, but I definitely found a balanced, solid and longterm plan I can stick to. I am so happy. Months from now I'll be at my target.

Another goal I have is to slim down my calves since they are muscular. The only way you can slim down muscle is to stop using that muscle group. I'm going to stick to workouts that don't overwork my calves and I will avoid those that overwork them. I'll definitely create a list post on here of exercises I feel cause bulkiness. I think my calves bulked from doing a lot of strenuous walking. But slowly and surely I'll figure it out. I like Rachael Attard's program because her goal is to slim down legs. I'll definitely draw some tips and pointers from her.

So overall, I'm headed towards a positive direction. And I am so happy about that. I've been feeling so miserable since November/December but I am getting better now. There are other areas in my life I need to improve, but these are the main ones.

I hope the rest of my spring and my summer work out in my favor, I know they will. I also want to look into clothes and makeup too.

~HEALTH IS WEALTH~

[ayellowcurtain]

Part 2

Nico is not really ready to talk about this, but he’s almost sure he’ll never be ready to have this conversation so it’s just gonna happen anyway.

He feels himself overheating inside, with his skin getting all rough and sensitive and a little too cold for his own touch. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue, holding one hand with the other one, squeezing it hard to avoid digging his nails inside his palms. Sometimes he hurts himself doing that so he’ll try not to do that for right now.

Martino is waiting for him to start talking, but he’s not pressuring him. They sit across from each other on the floor, the coffee table in between them. Nico offered to make some coffee, but Martino is too curious for coffee.

“Hm, so, I was in a relationship for a very long time, she was my first and only girlfriend I ever had. It was very good for a long time, but then I just...wasn’t in love anymore. We became friends, but I didn’t have the courage to break things up so we were still together when I had no more feelings for her. She started studying to become a doctor and then I felt like I was an experiment, her first patient because...hm, I’m bipolar,” Nico finally looks up to meet Martino’s eyes.

He was oddly quiet the whole time Nico was talking. He frowns just a little bit, creating a little wrinkle on his forehead.

“I was diagnosed almost at the same time that she got into college and I was already trying to figure myself out and she was constantly all over me, being nosy about where I was, what I was doing and with who I was. One day we had a huge fight about it and we broke up. My mom freaked out, Mada was the perfect daughter in law in her eyes and then I was constantly fighting with my mom too. It was a lot, all happening basically at the same time and I was...” Nico takes a deep breath, looking at his hands, feeling how he’s starting to sweat. “so tired of everyone. I didn’t care enough for anything at the time so I took as many pills as I could swallow. And then I woke up in that hospital.”

That’s not all, Nico could spend hours trying to explain what happens inside his brain, but it doesn’t seem right to talk about that with Martino when they just met. He doesn’t talk about this with anyone except his doctor. For too long he was being constantly watched and analyzed by his mom and Mada and so to talk about it with someone from the “outside” world is harder.

And for once, Nico wants to just be a normal person, to make mistakes and not have it be blamed on his mental health.

“I’m sorry...” Martino finally says as he moves around the table to sit closer, suddenly hugging Niccolò, leaving him speechless, taking a second to realize that Martino’s arms are around his neck, hugging him tightly and so Nico carefully puts his arms around Martino’s slim waist, letting himself enjoy this moment.

For too long he imagined how it would be to be able to actually talk to Martino, having his eyes open, focusing on Nico’s and in the end, he got more than what he was asking for.

A hug that lasts so long, so much more than a usual hug, especially between two almost strangers.

The first hour passes by like a second. Nico and Marti finish his little stock of beers just as quickly, still sitting on the floor with their backs on the couch, talking about random things.

Martino wants to be a doctor, he says he has the grades for it, probably not the stomach. Nico is not sure what he’ll do, but for now, he’s focusing on getting back to a routine in his grandma’s old apartment.

Marti offers himself to help decor the place, “Make it look more Nico”, he says and Niccolò stops for a second, smiling that he’s Nico already. Martino blushes again and finishes another beer, leaving the empty bottle on the coffee table as an excuse to avoid Nico’s gaze for a moment. Martino lives with his mom, his dad left and was a whole new family now, but he doesn’t care as much as he did before. His mom is finally starting to feel better about the divorce and that’s all that matters. Nico was very tired of his mom so he moved out, but to avoid more conflict, he settled for living at least in the same building.

Martino’s lips turn upwards and Nico suddenly remembers. “So nobody is coming tonight. You lied!”

He gently pushes Nico away and only then Niccolò realizes how close they were, their knees touching on the floor and Nico’s arm laying on the couch, behind Martino’s shoulders.

“I just thought you would think I’m weird for inviting a stranger to my apartment because you woke up and we talked for a brief moment, but I felt like I knew you and I could trust you to come inside. I know that you snore when you sleep and sometimes you’ll wake up and jolt on the bed, coughing because you choked on your own saliva. I think that makes us friends, at least.”

Martino awkwardly looks away for another second, turning his body to face Nico. “I don’t snore...” He whispers and Nico holds back the urge to touch his face, feel how soft his skin is. Marti’s curls are pointing to every direction, he keeps touching it, putting it upwards or aside and somehow make his hair look even curlier, the yellow light makes his curls look actually red and his skin warmer, inviting. He has the easiest smile, always threatening to turn into a full smile, all teeth showing.

Like he’s moving in slow motion, Martino slips back, lying on the rug, turning his head to still be able to look at Nico. He looks at every inch of Marti’s body, noticing how fast his chest moves, meeting his eyes at last.

Nico doesn’t want to think about later, about consequences. Martino is right there, lying on the vintage rug he bought just a week ago, waiting for him and Nico wants him so badly.

He carefully puts his beer to his other side, slowly crawling over Marti to let him move away or ask him to stop if he wants to. Nico puts one hand on each side of his head when he settles on top of him, holding his weight, and from here he can see how freckled Martino’s face is.

His cheeks have a warm tone of pink right on his cheekbones, probably from all the drinking they’ve done tonight and maybe Nico is only making it worse by being so close, their legs tangled together already like they knew how to fit with each other.

Martino is the most beautiful person Niccolò has ever seen. It’s astonishing and he doesn’t know how to tell him that he’s in love, that he’s been in love for months now, only waiting for Martino.

It feels weird to ask if he can kiss Marti when they’ve been flirting for hours, sitting almost on top of each other, staring at each other’s lips, choosing to be here, all alone when they could have gone back to Gio’s party. Nico comes just a little closer, enough to touch their noses and Martino smiles, biting the inside of his lip and nodding his head so quietly Nico thinks he might have seen things.

They move their heads like in slow and sexy music and finally, Nico kisses Martino like he’s been thinking about ever since he woke up to see the most beautiful human being right next to him, sleeping so peacefully.

[thehoodsweetheart]

Sandcastles | Part. II

A/N: You guys asked for Part 2 so here we are! I could create a whole playlist for the songs that inspired this. I hope you guys enjoy it. There may be a few errors. I’ve been trying to push this out for a while.

Warnings: Fuckboy!Erik (cont.), Some Angst, Mentions of Smut

Summary: If you have not read Sandcastles Part 1, please do so before reading this. Although, it may not be totally necessary to do so but it helps. The reader is a Black Woman, always has been always will be. 

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            You dragged the half-full black Nike duffle bag along the edge of Iman’s closet. Your hands worked diligently taking the various dresses, onesies, sweaters, and pants off of their hangers. You worked strategically folding them to maximize the amount that could fit into the duffle. Thus far, all of drawers in Iman’s dresser were cleared and you were half way through the closet. You never realized your baby had so many clothes. Maybe you shouldn’t take everything? Nah, scratch that. Pack it all.

          Where were you going? The last place most people would think to find you and you found solace in that, your twin brother’s house. In his words, he had a big ass house that he was barely at. Yes, you are a twin but when your parents divorced they thought the arrangement of your brother staying with your father and you your mother was a logical idea. They were wrong. On you guy’s seventh birthday, your dad moved and took JR with him to Louisiana and somewhere between holidays and summer visits, your very own twin became like a stranger. That is until you guys matured enough to forage your own relationship, which has innately gotten better since he started playing for the Los Angeles Rams.

           You glanced at the white digital clock that sat atop of Iman’s changing table. You inhaled deeply wiping the few droplets of sweat away from your brow. Your eyes shifted to the sleeping Iman in her crib. She was taking her morning nap right on schedule. It was hell trying to get her to go to sleep because apparently during your time away, Iman had grown used to sleeping on her father’s chest. You hadn’t realized it but for a moment you had been holding your breath. Exhaling slowly, you felt the familiar churning of your stomach. Fuck, not again. You had to work faster. You needed to work faster. Time was of the essence and this morning sickness was only slowing you down. 

          If we’re being honest, the term morning sickness wasn’t even applicable. You had all day sickness. You couldn’t keep a single thing down, not even water, which was a concern. You dropped the onesie that you had in hand and rushed to the nearest bathroom. You toppled over spilling whatever contents were left in your stomach into the toilet; at this point it was nothing but bile. You dry heaved as a stray tear escaped your eye. You weren’t even this sick when you were pregnant with Iman. Pregnancy with her was relatively easy. You didn’t have many aches and pains, nor excessive sickness, or extreme cravings. You biggest challenge with her was heartburn and you loved spicy food. Erik would argue that your mood swings were the biggest challenge. Fuck Erik. Your chest tightened with just the thought of him.

           Your phone pinged alerting you of a new text. You pulled yourself together brushing your teeth trying not to gag and end hunched over the toilet once again. You returned to Iman’s nursery picking up your phone. It was a text from JR.

Wazzam sis? Where you at? You good? You need me to come over there?

I’m still packing. I’m good, just a little sick. It’s slowing me down.

Just get what you can. I’ll send some movers to get the rest of your stuff if you need me to. I know you’re trying to get out of there before your boy gets back.

You stared blankly at your brother’s last text. Your lips pressed together in a thin line as your heart rate increase. You needed to be out before Erik got back.

I’ll be on my way within the next 30 minutes. Maybe less.

You quickly texted back. At least you hoped to be out within that timeframe.

         Erik finally returned to work today so it was your golden opportunity. It had been three days since you returned home. The first two days were filled with avoidance on your part. You slept in one of the guestrooms with the door locked. Tiptoed through the house as if it weren’t your house too. A soon as Erik entered one of the common areas you were in you were quick on your toes to make an exit. This couldn’t last long though. You couldn’t avoid him while occupying the same home. The more you avoided him, the longer you knew he would stay home from work.

        Erik was trying to apologize in the best ways he knew how. There we gifts that he strategically placed in Iman’s nursery because he knew you had to go in there. It only earned him a scoff and an eye roll. You couldn’t be bought. He tried ordering food from your favorite Mexican restaurant. Erik even cooked which he hasn’t done in over a month. You gladly accepted the food but opted to eat alone. The food would’ve been a nice sentiment if you could make it through a meal without vomiting. Then came the flowers, the obnoxious amount of flowers that practically covered the entire house. Each bouquet had a hand written apology that you didn’t give him the gratification of reading in front of him. He had been walking on eggshells knowing you would make good on your promise to leave, but you pulled a “him” to appease his worries.

       Making your way to bedroom to grab some of your essentials, you could only wonder if somehow what you were doing or did could in anyway backfire. You cringed at the thought. You were honestly repulsed at your actions from last night and this morning. If you knew anything about your husband, you knew he was smart. Scratch that, he’s a genius. But would he catch on?

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           You peaked into the in-home gym watching intently as Erik lifted weights. He laid back bench-pressing an obscene amount of weights. Jaw clinched, eyebrows knitted close together, eyes intently fixed on the metal bar above him Erik had to be deep in thought. The sweat that dripped down his chest drenched his shirt causing it to cling to his body. Based on his usual nightly routine, you knew his workout would be done within the next 10 to 15 minutes before he was done. You shook your clammy hands in front of you before clasping them together. You still needed to work up the courage to follow through with your plan but that would have to be enough time.

           You jogged upstairs to get your head start. Cracking the bedroom door, you peaked inside of nursery to ensure Iman was in a deep sleep. Turning on your toes you took quick strides to the master bedroom. You made your way around you and Erik’s bedroom to the adjoining bathroom. You leaned against your vanity staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your coffin shaped nails tapped against the marble top. You had wasted enough time.

           You turned on the shower adjusting the temperature. You stripped out of your clothes, put on a shower cap, and stepped into the steaming hot shower. You closed your eyes allowing your mind to roam as the water hit your body. There were still so many unanswered questions. Some questions that Erik refused to answer and plenty of questions you dared not ask, because honestly did you really need those answers. Would you feel better if you knew how long the affair lasted? If it was only a few times or did they fuck all the time? Who fucks better? Is that even a determining factor in if you could forgive him? Did he know her prior to the internship or was his attraction to her why he hired her?

           You clenched and unclenched your fist ignoring the burning sensation of water temperature being a bit too hot. The more you thought about it, the angrier you could feel yourself become. How dare he betray your trust for the second time? Your grandma always said fool me once shame one you, fool me twice shame on me, and if you get fooled three times you are a goddamn fool. You began to scrub at your skin increasing the burning sensation. It was too bad you couldn’t wash away the disgust. You wanted to him to hurt like he made hurt. Not even physical pain, but the mental and emotional pain you endured leading up to this very moment. That’s exactly why you couldn’t stay there much longer, but leaving is always harder than it seems.

           The sound of the bathroom door opening caught you off guard causing you to jump out of your thoughts. Your eyes snapped open to see Erik entering the bathroom with his wireless Beats by Dre headphones on. He stopped dead in his tracks taking in the view of you. A mixture of emotions flashed through his eyes the most prominent being uncertainty. You scrambled to cover yourself with your arms as if this wasn’t your husband who’d seen you naked plenty of times.

“I’ll be out soon.” You called out. This was the most you had spoken to him in two days.

      Erik took off the headphones dragging his tongue across his bottom lip the glint from his gold fangs flashed. He pulled the sweat- drenched tee over his head facing you the entire time not breaking eye contact. His eyes were filled with remorse, a flash of that lost puppy look washing over his face. He nodded in appreciation of your voice holding on to every sound of every syllable. As short of a sentence it may have been, it was better than your silence. Shit, even being cussed out was better than silence. Silence just made the situation marinate. It straight up made him feel like shit.

“Nah…you don’t gotta rush.” Erik swaggered back into their room.

           Letting out an uneasy sigh, a devious smirk formed on your lips. It was show time. You quickly rinsed off before grabbing your towel wrapping it tightly around your body and snatching off the shower cap. You picked up your lotion from your vanity then strutted into your room. You completely ignored Erik’s presence as you proceeded to dry off in front of the floor length mirror in your room. You could feel his gaze piercing into you. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You glanced up through the mirror to see him watching you as if you were prey. He sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread, as he hunched forward with a more predatory look in his eyes dreads falling into his face.

           You broke the gaze maintaining a stoic, unbothered expression. This was all a game and you were about to have fun with it. You proceeded to point your foot placing it on the edge of the bed as you rubbed in your lotion at an agonizingly slow pace. It would only be a matter of a few moments before you would get the reaction you were seeking, the reaction that you were taunting out of Erik. You knew he had the audacity.

       Erik stood up rounding the bed acting as though he was searching for something within your proximity.  You rolled your eyes at his obviousness. By now you had switched legs, beginning to moisturize the other. As you leaned forward, arching your back some you began to work the Shea Butter starting from your ankle, leading to your calf, then your thigh. Your hands inched closer to the apex of your thigh when Erik’s hand got a firm hold of your wrist, the front of his body being pressed against the back of yours. You cut your eyes at him.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the shower?” Your words laced with attitude.

“Yea but not yet” He mumbled huskily against your ear. “Let me help you with this…It’s the least I could do.” Erik nibbled at the rim of your ear. “…The least I could do to show you how sorry I really am.”

           You tried to suppress a moan as he flicked his tongue across the flesh just below your ear as his calloused hand kneaded at the apex of your thighs. Your back arched more pressing your ass firmer against him. Blame it on the pregnancy hormones, but as angry as you still were with him, your body was betraying you. The pulse, that’s right an actual heartbeat, you felt at your center let you know the tough ‘act’ was over. The glaze on your lower lips that was beginning to drip onto your inner thighs just solidified it. His nose rubbed along the side of your neck as he leaned more into you.

“N’Jadaka…” You whined in protest only to receive a dark chuckle in response.

“See princess…all you gotta do is give Daddy permission.”

       Erik stuffed one hand into the mess of your thick curls gripping them in his fist. You sucked air through clenched teeth from his sudden roughness. He forced you to look in his eyes, something you refused to do for extended periods of time of the last few days, before capturing you in an intoxicated kiss.

           You hated how you craved him. How your body craved him. How lust could supersede hurt and anger. How your flesh burned and yearned for salacious acts only he could provide. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself, right? It all happened in a blur. You tried to rationalize through every kiss, lick, bite, and tug at flesh, that this is what you needed to do. You needed him open and what better way to breakdown his wall of paranoia. Or were you the one open? How could you not be repulsed by stooping this low in an act of manipulation? You knew he would leap at the opportunity to fuck you into submission and forgiveness if possible. He’d better enjoy it because it would be the last time he would get to. Little did Erik know, he was far from forgiven. Did he honestly think you would give in after being home for three days? Wrong. You only confronted him about his escapades eight days prior.

        But now here you were, in control as your hips rose and fell, your aching core gripping his entire length thoroughly stretched to accommodate his girth. Your head thrown back eyes shut tightly. Erik delivered a powerful smack on your ass that only served as encouragement and motivation. You peered down at him through hooded eyes biting down on your bottom lip. You dragged your nailed down his studded chest and abs. It was time to pick up the pace. You bounced faster being sure to tighten you walls each time you reached the tip. The tip hitting your spot at just the right angle every time encouraged your cream to both of your thighs. The room was filled with sounds of flesh slapping and the sloshing of your sex. When Erik reached to grip your hips you slapped his hands away. You knew he wanted to gain control but this was a revenge fuck. He let out a growl as his abs flexed. Despite reforming over the years, your husband still thrived on power. A lack of power would only frustrate him. You were on the verge of cumming so he power trip would have to wait. A slue of curse words followed letting you know you had him just where you wanted him. It was also only a matter of time before he would take over…and that he did.

       You passed out cumming and woke up the next morning on the verge of cumming. One leg raised in the air cuffed in his brolic arm, he was buried so deep in you from the side that you felt winded. You didn’t know if you wanted to curse him out or sing praises, so you did both. The overwhelming sensation brought tears to your eyes that Erik gladly kissed away while whispering yet another apology. If you weren’t already pregnant, you would’ve surely ended pregnant after this escapade.

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           You blinked a few times at your reflection in the mirror. Purplish bruises cover your neck and the tops of your breast. You zipped up your hoodie to the top in efforts to hide them. You didn’t even want anyone to have a clue that you had sex with Erik after he cheated on you. Imagine being embarrassed of sleeping with your own husband. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as your broke away from your trance. You had to move on and move fast. You sped walked into your walk-in closet grabbing a tote immediately grabbing some essentials like under garments, a track suit, sundresses, and sandals. You grabbed enough clothes to last you until you called a moving company to pick up the rest of your things the next day. Next on your to do list was the bathroom to pack your hygienic products. Your eyes darted around the room. Was there anything important you were forgetting? You surely hoped not.

           You waltzed over to the stand pulling out a notepad you used to keep in there. You pulled out the pen that was wedged into the spirals. The devil on your shoulder was back at it again as the pen glided across the page. Your pettiness was getting the best of you.

Erik,

           If you’re reading this, then you should know that we’re gone. Don’t come looking for us. Fuck marriage counseling. This marriage was over when you decided to have a second affair. I won’t keep Iman away from you, but I never want to see your sorry ass ever again. I’ll have my mom or somebody bring her to you for visits. As far as baby #2, I’ll have you informed when I’m in labor.

P.S. I hope you enjoyed last night and this morning. Now you know how it feels to be fucked into thinking everything is okay.

Love, Y/n Udaku-Stevens

           You ripped off the page setting it on top of the nightstand. You twisted your wedding ring and bands off in one motion setting them on top of the note before grabbing your tote and heading back to Iman’s nursery. You made sure to slip off her Kimoyo beads leaving them in her crib. You had taken yours off the first time you left eight days ago. You swiftly situated Iman into her car seat. You would have to carry her and you guys’ bags, but this wasn’t something you were unaccustomed to. You carried her with plenty of grocery bags whenever Erik was out of town or just simply not around.

           As you finished loading your truck, you paused. This was it. How would Erik react coming home to two being gone…for good. You knew he suffered from issues of abandonment. Were you adding to his problems of being alone?  It could definitely trigger it. You groaned resting your forehead on the car’s door. You couldn’t pity him. He clearly didn’t care about how you felt anymore.

           You hopped into the driver’s seat and proceeded to drive off. You drove away from the house that was supposed to be a home to build your family. You didn’t want to stay there though. It wasn’t home anymore. Just being there gave your chest a heavy feeling. If you did stay, making Erik leave would be another fight that you just didn’t have the energy for. In so many ways you found home in Erik, yet that was gone too.  Your very concept of home washed away like sandcastles to a tide.

        You didn’t even bother to turn on the radio. You were too deep into your thoughts. You opted to start over.  This was your decision. You could go back to work and find a new place to call home. You could figure out how to create a new normal for you and Iman. But how you would deal with two kids under two years old alone? What if you were pregnant with twins? That would be like God playing some type of sick joke on you. You bit your bottom lip using your thumb to hastily wipe way a single stray tear, before refocusing on the road. Whatever the future circumstance would be you couldn’t worry about it. You had to deal with your problems in the right now.

Tag List: @yoyolovesbucky @beaut1fulone-blog @sarcastic-sunshines

If I forgot to tag you and you asked, I’m soo sorry!

[po1ypear1]

Always: Be greatful for the happiness feelings you feel every single day. 

Recognize when the right opportunity is before you and say yes. But if you dont, know the boat will come again, and know your reason for missing it.

Plans and day dreams are nice, but let them be free. Watch out for getting to attatched. We prefer general headings. 

Remember watching, “How To Be Single” and feeling like this was your time to enjoy being single while in this stage of self descovery. To remember learning how to date, how to talk to people, and how to hold onto your own identify.

Find and Do No Matter Where You Are: 

Play with improv people. 

Take singing lessons

Keep making your moon calanders! Study Astrology.

Everything written here has placed a call to me, and is currently waiting, patiently on hold.

Make movies. Research bus channels. Consider yours.

Act/Perform. Read poetry, stories and speaches to people from mobile sets in character. 

Once Home: Set Some Shit Straight: 

Invest! Talk to one of those guys who makes your money make money.

Sort out your taxes, health care, and province of residing. Get GST number for a small, legit paper trail and to justify the cerb minimum income requirements. 

Lazer hair removal.  

Get a proper ear stretching kit. Good quality solar powered, phone charging, water proof, blue tooth, multi speaker linkons, portable speaker. 

Books: Anatomy for the artist.  A massive “learn to read the stars” astrology book, total “yoga poses” reference guide.  

Home for Christmas would be nice. 

Ask grandma and grandpa a hundred questions. 

Watch tissue movies with mom. 

Organize family activities, skating, toboganing, holrac park. Snowboarding trip?  

Propose bio mobile bus/prototype build to dad  

Have a Dance in Golden and visit kyle…   

First summer with the bio-biel. Climb mountains. Serve A Vapassana.  Learn Gin Shin Do from a master. Visit the landing. 

Do you still wanna train hop? this is probably a better sooner then later activity.  

Winter town! Seasonal job. Collect thousands of dollars for passing go.

My Karman Line: Learn about starting a business. Event Organizer/Project Manager. Online Careers. How to become a home care assistant. 

Stationary Routine breads clarity and focus. New Places are exciting, stimulating, inspiring, and distracting. 

Biofuel Home Bus:  

MIDNIGHT IDEA* bus so I dont have to pay rent while going to school/studying to get the job that will allow me to work and live around the world. hense vegabonding after bussing. No roommates, no rent, no part time job money worries, small space, less mess, fewer distractions. I can work part time if I want to, not cause I have to. I can be close to school, no comute, close to my kichen, less money spent eating out. I feel the time for study is getting closer.

I like the idea of bus before boat, cause when I get land the bus is home base while I build. Then the bus is safely left on the property. The boat is a little less safe left in the water.

You’d think I would vegabond before biofuel, but i just got a craving…. then I got an incling, “maybe these arnt one time phases.” Sail boat life, Bus life, House life, Back-pack life. and they keep heluxing round and round. And there’s always new hobbies, interests, self discoveries and purposes. With constant sweet notes of good food, friendship, discovery. And never ending curiosity. 

 There’s no correct order, or direct timeline. Remove the 5 hinderances, and listen to what the moon says is best for you right now. 

Vegabond. Live, Work and Study in so many other countries.You can do this after 35 aswell. You can find amazing work oportunities that don’t require the permit, that will sponsor a permit, that wants to marry you. Or you’ll fit into the specialist or exeption section. You’re not necessarily looking for a typical, need a working vissa job anyway. Plus, some countries might not have this restriction, you never looked for your self. 

We were talking with Josie the other day and we got on to the different types of lives on the security-adventure scale. For argument sake, we named 4 main ones. The people who never leave the towns they grew up in, the ones who do but settle some where, the ones who move every so often, keeping it fresh and the ones who never stop, who, say live out of a back-pack or travel the world on a bike, throwing them selves into the unknown. When she spoke of these people, my heart fluttered…..  

House sit, wwooff, work-away when the world alows open travel again. And maybe Do it by bike? As few planes as possible. LIVE in the cities of the world, get to know them, be a part of them. Know the public places, the baker on the courner, where the oldest trees and stairs are. 

Entreprenuer. Have your own business. Work for your self. 1 (of many, ideas) multi functional bobcat/tractor owner and oporator. 2 Bulk goods supplier.

Homestead. Own Property out right. I will pay for everything up-front, all the money I save on interest by waiting will be trippled by keeping the money invested till there is more then enough for the propert, land and home development. Enough will be left over, and remain invested, to continue growing at a steady, live a comfortable life and travel as I wish, take what ever courses i wish rate.

Kitchen Hack: design cooking area to be re-panted every few years. window sills for herbs to grow. sinks with water spouts that fill in the middle and swivel.    

what an ideal comunity looks like to me: lots of greenery, big old trees, bike and walk friendly, inviting public spaces, big enough that I want to go out and be apart of it, that i have places and people to visit

Raise your kids here, with stability providing safety. Routine creating tradition that will be imprinted in them for ever, every pumpkin pie will make them feel their childhood in fall, and the excitment of starting school again. Let them grow conected to nature and their food. Atleast till 7. Then ask them what they want to do? wanna go to school in the city? wanna live in a bus and travel across the continent? Wanna live in a boat and sail around the world? 

Sail around the world with an electric assist bike and a survival libraray

Return to the nice place, with enough acres for privacy, gardens, animals, out door hot tubs, a green house, all within a food forest and be within walking distance of neighbours and a satisfying community hub. Some people watching spots and art events can be a comfortable scooter ride away. maybe this is the same place as the homestead. Maybe my parents are with my by this point.  

Bio Bus. I’ve been in the office 6 months now, and im starting to want a change. Change just might be my nature. So maybe it’s back to the bus. This time with Gatto, Pero, Pollo, bicicleta and creator machines. Traversing the continent selling soaps, teas, hot snacks wrapped in bees wax at ski hills, soaking potions, spa days at tree planter camps and tickets to movie nights.    

[evangclines-blog1]

what  if  we  ......  pretended  this  was  a  good  intro  .....  aha  just  kidding  .....  unless  ?  i  was  just  gonna  link  to  all  my  stuff  but  ...  ur  girl  wrote  a  lot  and  i  don’t  wanna  be  cruel  and  force  u  all  to  read  everything  JDBWBDJBWJ  so  here we  go  !!   <3

( VENUS, PARK SOOYOUNG, CIS FEMALE, SHE /HER ) guess what, EVANGELINE RHEE has just landed in cannes with their private jet. they are a TWENTY-TWO year old socialite, who spends much of their time & money UPDATING THEIR SKINCARE ROUTINE. i think their family is in the ENTERTAINMENT INDUSTRY and their net worth is around 10B USD.   

first things first ... i’m gonna drop some links in case u want to read everything i wrote at 6 am the day the submit closed bc im stoopid like that <3 

here u can find her full bio, stats, extended stats, and hcs ! the hcs are definitely the most fun to read so i recommend going to that page hehe

into the summary we go !

BACKSTORY:  suicide mention tw

eva’s dad is a movie producer and her mom was the beautiful woman he met at a train station <3 her parents had a very whirlwind romance, very love at first sight, very passionate and intense type of relationship literally everything you see in hollywood ? they had that ! they got married after only a year of knowing each other and had eva soon after 

thats when things got not-so-picturesque /: after having eva, her mom entered a pretty dark depression. eva’s dad ( who had been aware of his wife’s mental health and even warned by her family against doing anything crazy like getting married and having a whole baby so fast ) was kinda in denial about everything. eva’s mom still had her good days, but the bad days were really bad & when eva was only two years old her mom had an accident & passed away 

so while eva’s dad was grieving, he sent little eva to new york city to go live with her grandma !! eva adored her grandmother more than anyone else. she was a retired jazz singer, and a lot of what they did together was sit around and listen to old records <3 eva lived with her until she was five years old & that’s pretty much the only childhood she can remember since her mom died when she was so young !! 

when her dad brings eva back to france, he’s doing a lot better. he’s back to producing movies and throwing parties and being a part of society again ( things he had stopped while he was grieving for his wife ) and he even found his own form of “medicine” which was simply the company of beautiful women ! most of them were young actresses he met through his work, all of them were gorgeous, and they all adored little eva <3 

eva adored them right back ! they taught her stuff she imagined all mother’s teach their daughters: how to dress well, how to smell nice, how to get people’s attention, what makeup to wear, how to do your hair, how to speak so everyone hangs on to your every word, etc. she was still a little girl but she was absorbing all these lessons like a sponge, & it’s a big part of why she’s so obsessed with her own femininity and why she’s got this mindset about being beautiful inside & out in order to feel balanced. 

none of the women her dad brought home were ever at her house for more than a week. her father, who had been a notorious bachelor before eva’s mother, seemed incapable of falling in love again. that was his first and maybe only lesson to eva, which was how to break hearts, which is something else she absorbed & carried with her as she grew up

as eva grew up, she kinda became obsessed with trying to imagine what her mom had been like. no one in her family liked to talk about her, especially not her dad, but she knew she looked just like her and she was kinda always trying to fill in the blanks. but then one christmas her dad let it slip that her mom’s death hadn’t been an accident at all, that it had been on purpose. that was kind of the turning point for eva & she just kind of....stopped trying to re imagine her mom after that just kinda wanting to let her rest /:

she also went through a phase of doing stuff just because she could. she’d flirt with people’s boyfriends, she’d make strangers fall in love with her, she’d date people just to break up with them suddenly, etc. she kind of realized just how much she could get away with, but more than that, just how far people would go when they fell in love. she was obsessed with that, but also kind of jealous of those people just because she’d never felt that kind of soul shattering love for someone before and she really does want to </3 while she’s never been in love before, and while she does get bored of lovers easily, she still feels a type of attachment that is sometimes so strong she’s not willing to let the other person go even if she’s being selfish by hanging onto people she can’t get serious abt /: thats just life sometimes......whore rights !

FUN FACTS , PERSONALITY, AND TIDBITS: whore antics tw

 goes by eva, never evangeline. her grandma has always called her angel, and so that nickname has also carried over naturally

libra sun AND moon babey ! read abt it here

wears euphoria makeup to do groceries

 moved from paris to new york city for college to attend columbia university. double majored in english literature and business management. 

created what she called the “manhattan group” in reference to the bloomsbury group, which was a group of associated english writers, intellectuals, philosophers and artists in the first half of the 20th century ( that included writers like virginia woolf ) duringher freshman year. although meetings were supposed to be about discussing literature, it mostly became a place to drink warming champagne, flirt, and gossip. eva hosted the events & meetings off campus inside her loft. the manhattan group only lasted her freshman year though, as rumors of all the underage drinking and “cult-like behavior” persuaded her to drop it. that, and the fact that more than one member had fallen in love with her and things were getting quite tense. 

she never carries a lighter because she likes the way more than one person will offer her one if she asks for a light <3 

it’s a famous rumor that eva once spilled her drink on her chanel mini-dress at a charity gala and stripped down to her lingerie in front of everyone. it would have stayed a rumor if it wasn’t for the instagram story that went up of her only her underwear. 

she has a house phone in her nyc loft that only a select few people ( minus the strangers she’s given the number to while drunk ) know the number 

has a three year old black cat named june that she brought with ehr to cannes <3 

is the proud owner of a black maserati despite being an infamous bad driver. no one in their right mind, especially not her friends, would ever trust eva to drive.

it’s rumored she once snuck onto the yacht of a ceo to a fortune 500 company, only for him to find her in nothing but a bath towel eating chocolates while flipping through his playboy magazines, and that he was so taken with her instead of pressing charges he decided to name the boat after eva.

once spent a whole day walking around paris in a cheap pink wig and calling herself yvette. nobody could figure out why. eva often pulls stunts like this on a whim.

believes 2 is an unlucky number and is very superstitious about it, as that is the year her mother died. fully believes her twenties are cursed and is actually looking forward to the day she turns 30 just to escape the 2′s.

leonardo dicaprio once made a pass at her during the after party of a movie premiere she was attending.

during full moons, eva always has sex with the windows open. even if it’s winter, a window will be cracked open. this is one of her many personal superstitions. 

has a collection of old love letters, mixtapes, and presents past suitors and secret admirers have gifted her. while she cannot remember the origin of quite a few of the objects in her collection, she is attached to them still.

owns a replica of the famous cross necklace filled with cocaine that kathryn had in cruel intentions.

literally i basically just copied most of my hcs page im a clown i cant do summaries...

ok so personality wise ? shes a flirt. a whore, if u will. yes thats a personality trait now. literally if ur breathing shes flirting doesnt matter who u are doesnt matter if ur married if u have 10 kids doesnt matter like she will flirt....does not know how to open her mouth without flirting 

big on aesthetics /: believes everyone should get manicures like if ur cuticles are showing shes gonna gag . get help <3

not good at being held accountable for her actions. she’s not really the type to be malicious on purpose, but since she really does play with ppls feelings a lot it’s inevitable she’s gonna hurt someone but if u bring it up shes just gonna be like .. me ? at fault ? u must have the wrong girl i’m angel ...

likes 2 play games JSBDWBDJW clearly....matters of the heart are her fave kind but she also likes doing kinda ridiculous stuff for fun just to see how ppl are gonna react, also likes to do stuff just bc she knows she can usually get away with it 

loves skin care like she will be ur dermatologist ( self appointed ) she will gift u a moisturizer she will get everyone to do facemasks with her u cannot escape it ...

has trouble being alone but won’t admit it / doesn’t even really realize it ??? like it is... very rare u will ever find her sleeping alone or spending a whole day in just her own company 

not shy.....at all like JBSJDWBJDW she could use some shame but she has zero unfortunately 

despite being a whore....she is a HUGE romantic like whew she is obsessed with old love songs & is always playing them on her record player she loves to slow dance <3 she often gives ppl her fave poems ( usually poems abt sex ), she loves getting roses, loves kissing ppl on the cheek when she’s wearing lipstick, & she likes to leave ppl voicemails like ... shes really living like she is the main chara of a romance movie and everyone else is extra #5 most of the time... 

idk what else to say im sure shes gonna evolve once we start rping bc that always happens to me but....for now.....this is the end ! *cue feel special by twice*