#Best baby Beds in South Africa

[babybelle04]

From sleek and modern designs to timeless classics, we've got something for every taste and style. Whether you need extra seating, storage, or a statement piece, our ottomans & side tables are here to transform your space into a haven of comfort and sophistication.

[snixaroo]

A Small Introduction... or medium.. could be long not making any promises....

Hello world! Or Tumblrs.. or any human reading.

My name is Atalia and I'm a 33 year old woman living in Johannesburg South Africa whos having a truly shockingly disgusting draining 2023!

Single unemployed mother to two boys who eat like I own the local grocery store!

I'm a fucking statistic!

Well the pity party is over no more tears or worry or fears. Time to get my shit together and remind myself who the fuck I am!

I've done and said this for seven months on and off. I struggle with consistency... badly.

But today someone hurt my feelings really badly... and my success will be my revenge. I'm going to achieve EVERY GOAL I said I would for 2023.For myself yes of course and for my kids whom I love dearly on most days... but I wont lie the revenge is also pretty motivating!

Sharing my life with a bunch of strangers sounded like the perfect first step into my best year yet.

I'm excited to find other humans who are as strange and as silly and as open to talking about everything and anything. This is my free space to be unapologetically me and it can be yours too.

Today I shall sip on some Gin and stay in my bed. My booty is cold. Next time I post I'll tell you all about that ex best friends soon to be baby daddy drama!

Thought for the day: "Be kind to yourself"

Do something nice for you, sip on some Gin or buy yourself a milkshake. Give yourself a compliment. Go to the spa and get a massage. Listen to your favorite song and do a little dance. Cook your fav... okay you get the point.

You're fucking awesome!

#Itsashitshow!

[einsteinsugly]

Eric and Donna, as Mom and Dad...

Some call them boring. Predictable.

But they're always there, even after all these years. Through love, marriage, and baby carriages. To guide the ship, and if it starts to sink? They're the ones to responsibly corral everyone into lifeboats. And paddle away from the wreckage, overwhelmingly unscathed.

Yeah, they may be sticks in the mud sometimes. They may guide their friends and family with maps rather than with some newfangled machine. They may consider playing a lovingly competitive game of Scrabble to be comparable to a night out on the town. They may go to bed at 9:30, falling asleep in each other's arms. Only to wake up the next morning, and complain that somebody hogged the covers and had their knee in their back. While they were merely trying to dream…

Donna: Hey, you did the same damn thing two nights ago, you dink.

Eric: So pot, meet the kettle? *Donna angrily groans* You always snore like Chewbacca, Mara.

Donna: It was 40 degrees last night, and you still had the freaking fan on!

Eric: It powers the Millennium Falcon. *Pointing to himself*This remarkable vessel, needs to sleep tight so the bedbugs don't put their feet up my ass.

Donna (flatly): I thought you were Luke.

Eric: I am. *Pointing to himself, once again* Luke would call his aging body the Millennium Falcon. Mark. My. Words.

Donna laughs, and rolls her eyes. As she playfully kisses him.

After all these years, not much has changed. Eric's the one with the Dad/Granddad jokes and the seemingly sage advice (and the annoying movie quotes). Donna's the one who reads the latest Stephen King novel to purposely ignore Eric's endless rambling, and leads with honesty being the best policy. Even if said honesty includes shouting at the television screen, about how much she hates Trump. And Bush, if he decides to make an appearance.

Meanwhile, Eric's still enthralled with the past, moreso than the daunting present. He's the one to fall asleep watching whatever history remains on the History Channel, whereas Donna is the one to watch 60 Minutes and the nightly news with particular vigor.

All the while, Eric loudly (and annoyingly, Donna posits) muses about how much the world has changed, with their newfangled machines, but human nature? Everything's the same old, same old. The same old thing they heard last week, or something they heard forty years ago. When their remarkable vessels were lightning-fast machines, and they traveled the world. Even if their grandkids don't believe them…

Eric: We had our adventures, back in the day. Like when we lived in South Africa for a year, we…

Caleb: I don't believe you.

Donna: We really did.

Leah: They actually did. *With a sigh* Then they went right back to being boring.

Eric (to Leah): Hey, the apple didn't fall that far from the tree, did it?

Leah groans, and Caleb laughs.

Now, they're ready to travel the world. Again. Dancing their same old dance, without leaving their friends and family behind. Safely, and swiftly. As Donna reluctantly relinquishes the torch, but Eric happily passes it to the next generation. With far more enthusiasm, as eventually? The seas will calm, and they'll spend their golden years. Together, forever.

*****

A/N: Inspired by @thatseventiesbitch, and her latest post. :)

[lyonfamilyinafrica]

Final blog entry for trip

Well that’s the end of our African safari adventure.

Some stats and Q&A to wrap things up.

We drove a bit over 3,400 kilometres whilst in our 4WD hire car driving across two countries - Namibia and Botswana.

We visited 5 African countries (Namibia, Botswana, Zimbabwe, Zambia and South Africa) and saw the banks of another (Angola). We also visited Singapore for 3 nights on our way home.

We experienced temperatures ranging from -5.0 to 28 degrees in Africa.

We visited many reserves and the following National Parks:

Namib-Naukluft National Park

Etosha NP

Moremi NP

Chobe NP

Victoria Falls NP

We saw hundreds of different wildlife including the Big 5 - Lion, Leopard, African Buffalo, Rhinoceros (Black & White), Elephant.

A big thank you to our friends Greg & Jasmine for inspiring us to do this trip and providing an itinerary to follow and many chats and tips to make this trip possible. I think we would have been hesitant to book everything for the trip on our own without your guidance.

Thank you to my Mum Rhonda for looking after our little Lyon of the canine variety, Zoe, for the past month.

Q&A time.

Favourite location in Africa we visited & why:

Shanaugh- Third Bridge (Moremi NP), for the animals and fancy tented accommodation

Jarod - Moremi NP most wildlife

Max - Etosha (Okaukuejo) for animals at waterhole at night

Finlay - Etosha at the water hole because it was one of our first times seeing a lot of the animals and there was so many to watch

Favourite shower:

S - Mobola Island guesthouse

J - Kasane guesthouse

M - Mobola Island

F - Mobola island lodge

Funniest moment:

S - Pedalling on the 6 person cyclo to go across border from Zimbabwe to Zambia.

J - my Tame Impala joke every time I saw an Impala

M - When the Baboon was holding its willy. I thought it was a hot dog

F - pedalling on 6 person bike

When were you the most scared:

S - First night at Third Bridge as was first night in unfenced campsite

J - lion in camp

M - When Jarod farted in the car

F - when the lion walked past our camp and we all had to jump in the car

Best bargain:

S - Two loads of washing done and expertly folded for $10 - so worth it

J - a large painting, two wooden monkeys and a bracelet for $20

M - big hippo for free and apple for $1

F - ‘Free’ trip to Africa

Biggest rip off:

S - 50 Billion Zimbabwe dollar note for $2.50

J - Singapore sling for $39

M - nothing because Mum & Dad paid

F - nothing because Mum & Dad paid

Best tour guide:

S - Kay - Soweto tour

J - Greg

M - Mobola Island river tour and Khwai game drive tour guides

F - the guy at Mobola Island river tour

Favourite African animal:

S - Giraffe

J - Giraffe

M - Warthog

F - Elephants and all the baby animals especially the monkeys

Favourite meal:

S - South African shared meal or Otijiwa Lodge

J - Oryx (Gemsbok) from the restaurant at Otijiwa Lodge

M - Gemsbok steak at Joes Beerhouse Windhoek

F - either the fancy dinner at Otijiwa Lodge or the home cooked one at Victoria Falls

Favourite Spotify song from Africa playlist:

S - Africa by Toto of course

J - Africa by Toto

M - Pata Pata (about dance in Johannesburg)

F - Africa by Toto

Least Favourite part of trip:

S - Jarod’s farts in the car

J - South Africans

M - Dads farts

F - Dads Tame Impala jokes

3 things most looking forward to when home (apart from seeing Zoe):

S

My own space

Good bed mattress

Driving on smooth roads

J

Getting back to building outdoor room

Deer shooting in July

Yoghurt & protein powder for breaky

M

Riding bike with friends

Playing Forza on XBox

Listening to radio next to bed

F

Seeing friends

Knowing when can play soccer

My own bed

[clickvibes]

“I’m My Own Artist. I’m Tyla” – Tyla On the Cover of Cosmopolitan Magazine

Tyla is not interested in the “I can’t believe I’m here role.” She worked hard to reach here. “I never had an example of how to be an African pop star. So I was literally shooting in the dark. And I know people think it came out of nowhere and we are just industry plants. But it’s been years of work, years of developing, of falling, of messing up, of dreaming, sitting up for hours and hours watching YouTube videos…” she says. The South African music star came into the limelight with her hit song “Water” released in July 2023 and has not looked back since then. The song took over social media with its water-pouring TikTok dance and amassed a monthly Spotify stream of 29 million. This year, the song won her first Grammy Award in the Best African Music Performance category. Unfazed by comparisons to Rihanna, Tyla considers it a compliment, acknowledging Rihanna’s iconic status while asserting her own identity: “I’m my own artist. I’m Tyla.” In this cover interview with Cosmopolitan Magazine, Tyla talks about almost everything, from her family background, the immense success of her breakout hit “Water,” representing African Music on the global stage, a recent tour cancellation due to injury, her musical influences and more. Read excerpts from the interview: https://youtu.be/qKNDTxp_sws On her hit song “Water” and how she knew it would be big “I recorded it in a bedroom. I never thought, This song is going to blow up. And then I started performing it and seeing everyone singing every word. And I knew it was something bigger than what we thought. People from everywhere are listening to it and dancing to it, no matter their age. There’s babies, there’s old people. I just love that it’s an African sound that is so universal.” On how her life has changed since the release of the song   “So many things have changed. I still live in South Africa, but I was able to move my parents, my family. Now they’re in a safer area. My family came to Dubai with me. I was able to bring them to Europe. I’m able to show my parents the world at this age, you know? Years back, I was crying on my parents’ bed, saying, “Can I sing, please? Can I just do this? I don’t want to go to university.” Now they are watching me win and they are seeing plaques and posters. The first time my parents got to be in America, they saw their daughter win a Grammy.” #image_title #image_title #image_title On her back injury and cancelling the tour “Yeah, unfortunately, I had to postpone the tour. Obviously, I wanted to do all the shows, but it didn’t really make sense considering the injury and the recommendations from the doctor. I’ll be back on it very soon, and I will be giving my Tygers the best show ever. I just need to slow down a bit more and just be easy on myself. I’m still recovering. At least I have medicine that helps ease the pain. It sucks, but I know God’s going to bring me out of it.” On how she creates a balance  I have a really good team and I have really good people around me that are from home, so I’m always reminded where I’m from. And my family. I’m very much grounded. I feel like the way we grew up, we are playful and do not take things too seriously. But also, God gives me peace always. No matter what happens, I know that eventually, it’s going to be the way God wants it to be.” Click here to read the full interview. Credits: Photographer: @amberasaly Interview: @elainewelteroth Stylist: @cassieanderson212 Hair: @louissouvestre Makeup: @matthewfishmanbeauty Prop Stylist: @piecesofcate Production: @crawfordandcoproductions Read the full article

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[shop-korea]

ITZY "UNTOUCHABLE" M/V @ITZY

DEAR - KOREAN - GIRLS

WITH - INDIA - MALES - WE

ARE - INTRODUCING - TRUE

BETTER - THAN - KOREAN

MALES - GENTLEMEN AND

COMPUTER - EXPERTS

INDIAN - MALES - DANCE

SING - BRITISH - ACCENTS

ALSO - GIVING - INDIA YES

BETTER - PLACE - THAN

ENGLAND - WHERE - NO

FIREARM - SCOTLAND YARD

FEMALE - WAS - TRYING - TO

KILL - MY - PREGNANCY

UNITED KINGDOM - UK

HAS - BAYONET - COMBAT

KNIFE - AT - TOP OF RIFFLES

WHEN - THEY - TRUST - ON

GUT - 2 - END - PREGNANCY

THEN - YOU'RE - STILL ALIVE

SHOOTS - PREGNANT - GIRL

WITH - RIFFLE - HUGE BULLETS

ENGLAND - SMALL - PLACE SO

UNITED - WITH - NORTHERN

IRELAND - WALES SCOTLAND

2 - FEAR - THEM - FORMER

BRITISH - EMPIRE - DREARY

NO - SUN - WINTERS

LOTS - OF - INDIA - PEOPLE

IN - ENGLAND - BRINGING 2

ASIA - AND - OTHER - EUROPE

COUNTRIES - INSTEAD

KOREAN - GIRLS - INDIA

MALES - DELICIOUS FOODS

UNITE - WITH - BETTER YES

MALES - WHEN - THEY DANCE

LIKE - TAHITIAN - HAS - TRULY

MEANING - NCT - BOYS - ARE

DISPLAYING - STRENGTH

THEY'RE - STRONG - AS THEY

ALWAYS - WITH - EACH OTHER

INDIAN - MALES - DANCE WITH

THEIR - HANDS - AND - HEARTS

COMING - 2 - THESE - MALLS

BARBIE - WORLD

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - WORLD

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN MALL

BEAUTY - PAGEANTS

KIDS - TEENS - YOUNG - ADULTS

ADULTS

WE'LL - FIGURE - ALL - OUT

NOT - ALL - HAS - ALL ALSO

EXAMPLE

MS - BARBIE - BABY

MR - KEN - BABY

MS - BARBIE - TEEN

MR - KEN - TEEN

EASY - 2 - APPLY - USE - APP

LOCAL - AND - WORLD

NO - HUMAN - CONTACT

NOW - GROWN - UPS

WORLD

MS - WORLD - BARBIE

AGE 19 - 25

SINGLE - ONLY

LOOK - LIKE - BARBIE

LARGE - BREASTS

TALL - BARBIE

BARBIE - WORLD

DISCRETION - BUT - FREE

NUMBING - CREAM

PLACED - ON - BREASTS

THEN - CHEST - BALLOONS

WHY - 2 - FILL - UP - WITH

BABY - MILK - B 4 - BABY IS

BORN - FLOATS - U 2 - POOL

CHANGE - YOUR - HEIGHT

BARBIE - WORLD

PLASTIC - SURGERY

CHANGE - COLOR - OF EYES

CHANGE - HEIGHT

WE'RE - ISSUING - EVERYONE

NEW - SOCIAL SECURITY NOS

NEW - COUNTRY - ID - NOS

LEGAL - DUPLICATION - ALL

IDs - PAPERWORK - DEBIT &

CREDIT - CARDS - KIOSKS

WE - TAKE - CARE OF PHOTO

BARBIE - TV - STUDIOS

MS - BARBIE - (LOCAL)

MS - WORLD - BARBIE

MR - KEN - (LOCAL)

MR - WORLD - KEN

AGE 19 - 25

MALLS - WILL - HAVE - STAGE

TELEVISED - AND - AUDIENCE

INSTEAD - OF - WALKING

AUTO - BRINGS - U 2 - STAGE

TURNS - U - AROUND - AUTO

BIKINIS - BARBIE's - BODIES

PUSH - UP - BRAS - INSIDE

HOW - 2 - APPLY

WORLD - BY - APP - WHEN

U R - SELECTED

500 BILLION - TAX - PAID

OTHERS - SELECTED - WHO

IS - BEST - 2 - REPRESENT

500 BILLION - X 3 - TAX PAID

ALL - EXPENSE - PAID

BARBIE - HOTEL

NO - ROOMMATES

REQUIRED - TONGUES

SINGERS - ONLY

SINGLE

KOREA - SEOUL

TOKYO - JAPAN

BOTH - LOCAL - PAGEANT

WINNER - 500 BILLION X 5

WORLD - WINNER

500 BILLION - X 8 - TAX PAID

REQUIREMENTS

MALE - CAN'T - SUGGEST

ABORTION

GIRLS - CAN'T - HAVE YES

CLINIC - ABORTION - CAN

NOT - HAVE - DOCTOR

ABORTION - OR - U - LOOSE

ONLY - TITLES

EXAMPLE

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN

MS - PEANUTS - BABY

MR - PEANUTS - BABY

KIDS - TEENS

MS - TEEN - PEANUTS

MR - TEEN - PEANUTS

NO - ADULT - BEAUTY TITLES

SO - DEPENDS - WHEN

HOST - AESPA

HOST - ITZY

CALLING - ON - WORLD - YES

BEAUTIES - 2 - HELP

MS - UNIVERSE - 2017

SOUTH - AFRICA

MS - UNIVERSE - 2018

CATRIONA GRAY

2015 - PIA WURTZBACH

2 - HELP - HOST

SO - THESE - MALLS - WILL

HAVE - IT - ALL - 2 - KEEP US

ALL - SAFE - BULLET - BOMB

FIRE - WATER - SOUNDPROOF

PREPARING - 2 - LEAVE LIBRARY

BARBIE - HOTEL

FR - ELEVATOR - THEY - STEP

2 - BRING - 2 - ROOM - NO WALK

INSIDE - ROOM - THEY - STEP - 2

BRING - EVERYWHERE

SMART - HOTEL - REMOTES

LIKE - SMART - HOUSE APTS

HIGHEST - TECHNOLOGY

BARBIE - WORLD

WINNER - BECOMES - DOLLS

THEIR - OWN - BARBIE DOLLS

INCLUDED - IN - COMICS

THEIR - OWN - COMICS ALSO

DURING - 1 YEAR - REIGN

OWN - BARBIE - COMICS

BARBIE - STAMPS - ALSO

WHEN - THEY - HUMILIATE

WOMEN - KILL - THEM - IN

ANCIENT - CHINA

MS SAIGON: 25TH YEAR

ANNIVERSARY

ILLEGAL - PROSTITUTES

IN - VIETNAM - CONCUBINES

BURIED - ALIVE - WITH THEIR

CHINESE - MALE - EMPEROR

KILLED - AS - NO - CHILD - AS

CONCUBINE - 1 BED - SHARED

EVEN - WITH - EMPRESS LIVE

SONG - AMERICAN - GOV'T

ISSUED - SOLDIER - SINGS

'THERE's - A - PLACE - WHERE

YOU - (GIRLS) - HAVE - MORE

WORTH' - 'I'LL - TAKE - YOU

THERE' - OF COURSE - BIBLE

'LYING LIPS - OF - FOREIGNERS'

NEVER - MADE - THAT - GOOD

VIETNAMESE - MOM - KILLED

HERSELF - THESE - MALLS - 2

BRING - WORTH - 2 - WOMEN

2 - THE - POOR - OF - INDIA &

MANY - COUNTRIES - AS - WE

MAKE - THIS CHANGE IN ASIA

BEIJING - SHANGHAI

HORSE - LANES - 4 - BLIND

DISABLED - AND - KIDS ADD

SEOUL - KOREA

TOKYO - JAPAN

NEW - BEAIUTY - PAGEANTS

2 - BRING - US - MORE WORTH

BIKINI - REQUIRED - AS BARBIE

SHOWS - HER - STRENGTH - AS

SHE - WEARS - WHAT - USA YES

CREATED - THE - BIKINI

SPOUSES - CHURCHES - YES

TRIED - AND - MURDERED US

BUT - ADAM - AND - EVE

GARDEN - OF - EDEN BOTH

WERE - NAKED - CLOUDS

COVERED - THEIR NUDITY

THESE - BEAUTY - PAGEANTS

CONTESTANTS - NOT WALK'G

AUTO - WALKS - THEM - SO

NO - MORE - FALLING - NO

MORE - FEAR - NOT - HARD

QUESTIONS - NATIONAL

COSTUMES - IMPROVOED

BARBIE - WORLD

ITZY - HELLO KITTY - WORLD

AESPA - CHARLIE BROWN MALL

COMING - 2 - SEOUL - 2 - TOKYO

[onlineshoppinginsouthafrica]

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[delvenservices]

Kids Furniture Market Size to reach Highest CAGR of 17% by 2028

Kids Furniture Market, by Product (Beds, Cots & Cribs, Mattresses), Material (Wood, Polymer, Metal), Application (Commercial, Household) and Geography (North America, Europe, Asia-Pacific, Middle East and Africa and South America)

Market Overview

The global Kids Furniture market size is projected to reach USD 52 billion by 2026 at a CAGR of 17% from USD 36 billion in 2021 during the forecast period 2021-2028.

When the furniture is designed so as keeping the needs and the requirement of children in prime concern then it is called as kids furniture. These may include table, chair, beds and other. Usually these are made up of wood but can be made up of plastic or other material on the basis of requirement.

With the recent surge in the prices of real estate along with the higher demand for more easy to move and compact furniture are some of the factors that have supported long-term expansion for Kids Furniture Market.

The COVID-19 pandemic is causing widespread concern and economic hardship for consumers, businesses, and communities across the globe. But in contrary the market for kids furniture has increased in the past time due to the lockdown across various nations led to an increased time of children at home also the recent trend of online education has created an urgent need for proper sitting arrangement for the siting of children.

Request Research Sample Pages: https://www.delvens.com/get-free-sample/kids-furniture-market-trends-forecast-till-2028

Regional Analysis

North America is expected to be the largest market during the forecast period. The increasing expenditure on children along with higher living standards in the region have led to growth in the kid’s furniture in the region.

Competitive Landscape

Key Players

Williams Sonoma Inc.

Bilion Dollar Baby Co.

Wayfair Inc.

Blu Dot

First Cry

KidKraft

Sorelle Furniture

Circu Magical Furniture

Crate and Barrel

Casa Kids

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Recent Developments

Williams-Sonoma, Inc. launched four new e-commerce sites for Canadian customers. The new sites for Williams Sonoma, West Elm, Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn Kids brands will offer an enhanced customer experience including full access from mobile devices, localized content and new product offerings.

Popular juvenile furniture brand DaVinci and manufacturer Million Dollar Baby Co announced that they have collaborated with children’s apparel leader Carter’s on a co-branded furniture line.

Reasons to Acquire

Increase your understanding of the market for identifying the best and suitable strategies and decisions on the basis of sales or revenue fluctuations in terms of volume and value, distribution chain analysis, market trends and factors

Gain authentic and granular data access for Kids Furniture market so as to understand the trends and the factors involved behind changing market situations

Qualitative and quantitative data utilization to discover arrays of future growth from the market trends of leaders to market visionaries and then recognize the significant areas to compete in the future

In-depth analysis of the changing trends of the market by visualizing the historic and forecast year growth patterns.

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Report Scope

Kids Furniture Market is segmented into product, material, application and geography.

On the basis of Material Type

Beds, Cots & Cribs

Table & Chair

Cabinets, Dressers & Chests

Mattresses

Others

On the basis of Material

Wood

Polymer

Metal

On the basis of Application

Commercial

Household

On the basis of Region

Asia Pacific

North America

Europe

South America

Middle East & Africa

About Us:

Delvens is a strategic advisory and consulting company headquartered in New Delhi, India. The company holds expertise in providing syndicated research reports, customized research reports and consulting services. Delvens qualitative and quantitative data is highly utilized by each level from niche to major markets, serving more than 1K prominent companies by assuring to provide the information on country, regional and global business environment. We have a database for more than 45 industries in more than 115+ major countries globally.

Delvens database assists the clients by providing in-depth information in crucial business decisions. Delvens offers significant facts and figures across various industries namely Healthcare, IT & Telecom, Chemicals & Materials, Semiconductor & Electronics, Energy, Pharmaceutical, Consumer Goods & Services, Food & Beverages. Our company provides an exhaustive and comprehensive understanding of the business environment.

Contact Us:

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+44-20-8638-5055

SALES@DELVENS.COM

The Kids Furniture Market report answers a number of crucial questions, including:

Which companies dominate the Kids Furniture Market?

What current trends will influence the market over the next few years?

 What are the market's opportunities, obstacles, and driving forces?

What predictions for the future can help with strategic decision-making?

What advantages does market research offer businesses?

Which particular market segments should industry players focus on in order to take advantage of the most recent technical advancements?

What is the anticipated growth rate for the market economy globally?

[babybelle04]

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[casaplaya]

Self-catering Accommodation In Umhlanga Rocks

This luxury self catering apartment consists of a lounge, dining space and a completely fitted trendy kitchen. There are two double bedrooms, both with their very own loos. The house can comfortably sleep four people with a Queen-size mattress in the primary bed room and twin beds in the second bed room. These twin beds may be reconfigured into a King-size mattress on request.

With ample parking for visitors that includes house for one vehicle in their storage, makes for a safe stay in Umhlanga. The Beverly Hills Hotel in Umhlanga has become self catering accommodation in umhlanga rocks synonymous with elegance, gracious hospitality and intuitive service. This five star lodge is a half of the Tsogo

The Capital Pearls Hotel is the perfect destination for businessmen. Along with the fact that they supply conferencing facilities, visitors can take pleasure in complimentary uncapped Wi-Fi to

This fashionable visitor home in Umhlanga has a feeling of class, which is mirrored by the gorgeous accommodation umhlanga Kwa-Zulu Natal area. The Forest Manor employees ensures that guests take pleasure in

The Wild Thyme Bar can be discovered within the restaurant and offers scrumptious finger foods and unique cocktails. Crooked Tree consists of a 3 room cottage and 3 Studio suites. The Cottage accommodates 6-7 guests, Two Studio suites accommodate 2 guests per suite and the remaining Studio can accommodate to adults or 2 adults and holiday accommodation umhlanga 2 babies. What attracts so many individuals to the shores of Umhlanga Sands is the reality that the world is both a buzzing metropolis and beach resort. If you’re staying in Umhlanga, you can see that the seaside and vibrant nightlife are both major points of interest.

Fleetwood on Sea is one uMhlanga’s most wanted self catering beachfront holiday destinations. Umhlanga Cabanas offers numerous firstclass on-site services. Whether you make Umhlanga Arch your house, place of business or destination to go to, come expertise the benefit of mixed-use residing proper in your doorstep in a secure house and aesthetically pleasing surroundings. Make use of the glowing pools and fitness centre, play seashore volleyball, and journey golf, or keep lively at the tennis and squash courts. Own or handle a top quality accommodation property in South Africa?

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[amilst]

Kniphofia, Red Hot Poker, Torch Lily. One of the most striking flowers in the garden is the Red Hot Poker. The scientific name is based on a German botanist, Johann Hieronymus Kniphof. It gets its common name because the flowers on the multicolored variety range from yellow on the bottom to orange to red at the top, as if getting hotter from bottom to top. We also have the all-yellow variety, pictured below. These are native to South Africa, Australia and New Zealand where they flourish in the wild and are considered almost a weed.

Many gardeners refuse to grow Kniphofia, considering them too wild and garish to mesh with the other plants in the bed. I have always liked them. They are easy to grow and need little in the way of care.

In South Africa, people sometimes eat the nectar-filled blooms and claim they taste like honey. Others use the flowers to repel snakes. In Zimbabwe, locals mix the powdered roots with food to treat infertility.

Ezra might like to know that, in Lesotho, the plant is used as a charm against lightning,

To those more spiritually minded, breathing in the essence of Torch lilies awakens you to the knowledge of your true self,

Like the other spiked flowers blooming now, foxglove and the spectacular desert candle, also pictured below, Kniphofia bloom from the bottom up. Each spike can contain hundreds of tiny flowers blooming over a several week period, leaving a spent spike best cut when the fireworks are over. But I can’t help thinking that candles and torches burn from the top down so the metaphoric common name doesn’t work that well.

There is only one spiked plant that blooms from the top down and it doesn’t have a common candle name: Liatris or gay feathers, which won’t bloom until July. That’s below as well.

Surprisingly, Kniphofia has made it into the realm of poetry, in the obscure Les Murray’s “The Cows on Killing Day”:

Not from a weather direction

black cockatoos come crying over

as unflapping as Bleriot monoplanes

to crash in pine tops for the cones.

Young dogs, neighbours’ dogs

across the creek, bark, chained

off the cows, choked off play, bark

untiring as a nightsick baby, yap

milking times to dark, plead

ute-dancing dope-eye dogs.

Red-hot pokers up and out

of their tussock. Kniphofia flowers

overlapping many scarlet jubes

form rockets on a stick.

Ignition’s mimed by yellow petticoats.

Like all its kind

Python has a hare lip

through which it aims its tongue

at eye-bursting Hare.

(BTW, brief correction to the digitalis post. That is not a Van Gogh self-portrait but a portrait of his digitalis prescriber Dr. Gachet.)

[ketso]

Episode 28

I fell asleep on Thabang’s chest. It was the only way he could calm me down. I couldn’t even breathe last night. Mmaletuka has honestly lost me as a sister, and I will NOT drop the charges. She will rot in jail! And I’m not taking any of her kids to raise them. My mother is upset with me. She says I cannot get married with my sister behind bars. But my sister attacked me in front of everyone and she said nothing.

She’s still upset that I refuse to live with her kids. And I will not apologise, nor will I change my mind.

She then started telling me that I lied about Bryan abusing me and that I treated his family like shit just so I could use my vagina to get out of poverty. First of all, and I told her, my life was fine without Thabang. What I did do is run out of poverty. That I did do. I left my mother’s, went to South Africa, lived in a back room… but that back room was better than what I was exposed to when I was at home. Bryan met me then moved into a back room that I was paying rent for - not the other way around. Secondly, and I told her, I don’t care if she believes me or not. It’s not for her to believe anyway. This is my story and my situation. Oksalayo - and I told her - I know who my baby daddy is. My kids know their father. Even though we are now where we are with Thabang, they are not confused about their paternity regardless of the circumstances we are now surrounded by.

Yerrr… the fight took off. She started throwing things around, calling me names and telling me how selfish I am. She told me how Thabang was making me think I’m better than everyone when actually, just like her, I’m a daughter of a prostitute and I have no idea who my father is neither… just like her kids. I told her that I at least didn’t carry the curse over to my kids. And she wants to tell me about sleeping my way out of poverty? What does she call what she does for a living? Worse, she’s not even sleeping with expensive dick. At least I slept myself into a marriage with a prince. Yena she’s doing it with people who just leave R100 on her sideboard? She must just fuck off!

That’s when she decided to ruin my wedding day. She set my dresses and my bridesmaids’ dresses alight… in my bedroom… on my bed… after hitting me. I phoned the police to deal with her crazy ass.

But now it’s 6am. I’m supposed to be doing glam and preparing for my wedding, but I’m here without even one dress to wear for my wedding day.

I remove my head off Thabang’s chest and switch on my cellphone. While my cellphone starts up, Wandi, Bassie, Tamia and Meme are knocking on the door and yelling for me. Thabang also wakes up. They are quite loud.

“Guys, I’m coming”, I say before they wake everyone else up.

Thabang kisses me then goes to the toilet to release his morning pee.

I get the door.

“You need to change. My mom brought us new bridesmaids’ dresses and a new dress for you.” Wandi says.

Now I’m going to faint.

“And apparently the queen also just arrived with one hell of a traditional wedding dress for you. One you’ll wear when you get handed over to the Mothipas and one for the lobola negotiations happening at 8am. Wandi’s mom got you a new reception dress. You need to get ready. Glam is already waiting for us”, Bassie.

Now I’m crying.

Meme hugs me.

“Banyana, let’s go! Morafe’s mother is waiting for you. Let’s go!” Wandi’s mom says.

“Can I say goodbye to Thabang first?” Me.

“Thabang is here? It’s the morning of your wedding. You guys will see each other later. Let’s go!” She says.

I can’t even say goodbye to my man, but I’m so happy for my squad. I’m so so so happy. I chose the best squad ever! Tamia has even inserted herself now, leaving with us. She included herself in the bridesmaid dresses, so I guess she’s now a bridesmaid. I’m not mad though. She got Thabang and I and all expenses honeymoon in the Maldives. Thabang is so excited and I’m very happy to see her!

By 6:30am, we are done bathing. We all got a dish from my mom and we all just bathed together in one room. Like no one was weird or argued about privacy. We are a whole hour behind schedule and shit needs to happen. We wear our gowns and go throw our water out outside. We quickly brush our teeth then head back into the house, my room.

We wear our underwear then put gowns over our underwear. I still cannot believe that Mmaletuka did what she did. We are all very silent as we get ready because honestly, we are all in shock. The burned bed is right behind us and we are all just probably having flashbacks of what happened in here yesterday.

The makeup people start working on our faces. We hear conversations taking place in the dining area. It’s the Mothipa family and they are negotiating my lobola.

“Rafe, Thabang is looking for you”, Wandi tells me.

I look at her.

She hands me her phone.

“Hello”, me.

I have to clear my throat because now I just feel a bit…

“Baby, I’m going to marry you today. No matter what. Please just smile, baby. Please be happy. Today is for us.” He says.

“Thabang… I just…” I start sobbing.

“Baby”.

“Yes?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just feel so… down.”

“Do you love me?” Him.

“I do.”

“Do you believe me when I tell you that I love you?”

“I do, baby.” Me.

“Then what more do we need?” Him.

“I didn’t realise that the day before our wedding would be this chaotic. I’m just coming to terms with the fact that a few hours ago, I didn’t think this wedding would still happen. Now it’s happening and I’m scared that something else might go wrong”, me.

“It won’t, baby. Trust me. We will be married in a few hours. I can’t wait for you to be my wife.” He says.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Okay.” Me.

“I have your phone, baby. You left it at the lodge. You’ll get it later, okay?” He tells me.

“Thanks babe. I didn’t even realise that I didn’t have it.” I say.

“I’ll see you later, baby. Relax okay… I saw the kids this morning with Wandi’s mom. They look so beautiful - just like you.” He says.

I giggle.

“Everything is going to be perfect… as perfect as they are. You’ll see.” He says.

He’s reviving my heart now.

“See you soon, okay?” Him.

“Shup.” Me.

We hang up.

I quickly wear my lobola dress to go and appear before my in-laws. My friends get ready too in their dresses. We are called to appear before them and they identify me correctly. Then we are released.

We head back into the bedroom and glam continues so that we can be ready for the wedding once the negotiations are done. My mom is getting ready in her bedroom with her siblings and Mmaletuka’s children.

“So, ladies…. Especially wena Wandi…” Tamia starts.

I guess she’s trying to revive the mood.

“Tell me about Ntuthuko.” Tamia.

We are all already laughing.

“I’m not saying anything about him. You must learn him all on your own and have your own experience of him.” Wandi says.

“And we know you spent the night in his room”, Bassie.

“Ja, I did. But nothing happened, babe. We literally just talked hey. Like really talked.” Tamia.

“About?” Me.

I don’t know how to explain Tamia in our friendship. She was Wandi’s friend. Wandi brought her into our group, but she was always rich and focused on the next big thing. She never considered us friends - in my view - unless she was going through something. Then she left to study overseas. She’d chat to us and all. But not like the three of us chat. Then she came back. And we chill from time to time, but not all the time. She’s always at work or with some man. She’s not the “friend” type of girl. She’s more all about the man and her money. And there’s nothing wrong with that. At all. I just personally don’t know how to connect with her.

“He told me about his kids and baby mamas. He told me about his family, the passing of his mother… the passing of his sister and the passing of his favourite stepmother. He told me about his current stepmother, his relationship with his father and all of that.” She says as we continue with our makeup.

“And what do you think about that?” Wandi.

“I don’t mind all of that. It’s got nothing to do with who and how he and I will treat each other. But we spoke about what he wants in a relationship as well as what I want, you know…” Tamia.

“So, you guys want to be serious?” I ask her.

“I don’t know. But I do enjoy him as a person.” Tamia says.

“When last did you have sex, T?” Bassie asks her.

“A whole year ago. Eish. It’s dry. But when Wandi told me that she’s hooking me up with a date for the wedding, I waxed EVERYTHING! So, I hope he’ll get to see a show nyana that will have him coming to Johannesburg for a visit or two.” Tamia.

We all actually just laugh.

When our makeup is done, our hair is sorted out. It is 9am when we hear ululating in the house. Now singing starts again. I’m not even enjoying it the way that I should be enjoying it. I’m nervous. I just want to see myself next to Thabang. Only then I’ll know that everything will go well. We are so behind schedule it’s not even funny.

We are helped into our dresses and I think we are ready. There are cars upon cars outside… busses even. There’s singing and dancing as well.

“Rafe, you’ll drive with me. Bab’Khotso brought his Rolls Royce. I’ll drive you. Bassie will sit in front with me. Tamia and Meme will sit at the back with you. That’s good?” Wandi.

“Hell yes!” Tamia says.

I just want to get out of here.

“Your mom will be driven by my mom in another Rolls Royce. She will be in there with Tshenolo and Mosetsana.” Wandi.

“Cool. Let’s go.” I say and lead the way out.

As to what will happen to Mmaletuka’s kids is neither here nor there for me.

As I step out of the bedroom, everyone is ululating. I cannot even smile.

I just rush into the car. Wandi takes off. Her mother follows her. I thought I’d be so happy. But now, I just want this entire day over!

-

We are here. And it’s soooooo full. There are hooters all around. We chill in the car until people start entering the yard. Now my bridesmaids and I are coming out of the car. My wedding planner is the one who is pretty much choreographing everything that’s happening here. He tells me to smile. The wedding is happening and I’m looking amazing.

My kids find me and now, I’m happy. I hold their hands, one on each side. My dress and Mosetsana’s dress match. Tshenolo’s outfit matches Thabang’s outfit. My wedding planner coordinated everything so well - even with the designer.

My bridesmaids walk ahead of me, doing the step. I do the step with my kids. We are led by BaSotho traditional dancers. I’m actually smiling and laughing for the first time.

I finally see my man in sight. My heart now performs cartwheels. Our eyes connect and he smiles at me. Oh man, I’m so happy.

I am finally standing in front of him. He picks Tshenolo up and holds Mosetsana’s hand. We sit at a couch provided for us, Tshenolo and Mosetsana sitting with us. The gifting ceremony starts. Wandi, Bassie and Meme take care of my gifting to Thabang’s family - including his two wives, Mmakabelo and Mahali. Mahali didn’t even want to stand up and accept her gift. Mmakabelo and Thabang’s mother had to bully her into standing up and not causing a scene. She gave me skank looks as she was being gifted.

After that, my family was gifted and Thabang’s gifting was led by his siblings, Tumelo and Pebetsi.

When it’s done, we are taken to some place for the conclusion of the sacred part of the wedding… the part where the ancestors conclude our union.

Now we go to change for the reception. A glass tent is set up. People are seated and over 500 people are here. The traditional part was also so so beautiful. I know the reception will be better.

My bridesmaids are dressed in gold dresses. My daughter - the flower girl - is in her white flower girl dress. My son - the ring bearer - is in a suit. I’m dressed in an all-white dress. It has a fishtail finishing. The top of my dress is in bling diamanté. I look stunning! It’s a forced white wedding. I technically cannot have one because this is a polygamous marriage. But we will be exchanging vows. And I don’t care nje.

We are now making our way to the tent. Rain is threatening now, so we must hurry up.

I see my kids walking down together and everyone taking pictures of them and cheering them on. Now my bridesmaids walk down the aisle to Brenden Praise’s Easy To Love.

Now I have to walk down the aisle. I look stunning shame. And I see it in Thabang’s eyes that I’m a hit. Everyone is ululating. The chief - his father - sits ahead of us.

Now we hold hands and look at each other. We smile at each other.

“You look stunning!” He tells me.

He looks amazing too.

Apparently, Mahali left. She didn’t make it to the reception.

I say my vows first. I begin: “Thabang Mothipa, motho waka… apparently, you loved me since we were kids, but I didn’t recognise you for reasons I’ve shared with you in private.”

He laughs.

I’m not going to repeat that in front of all these people.

“But despite all of that, I’m so happy that we are here today. I’m so happy that you never gave up on me… on what could be between you and me - even though we went our separate ways over the years, we are here today, and we are celebrating what is and what will be… with us together as husband and wife. Motho waka… I will thank you every day for choosing me - choosing us - by honouring you as my husband… loving you and being the wife that you have prayed and hoped for me to be to you and to the Mothipa family. I love you so much, Thabang. You are my person. And I will do my part to make sure that we are forever, happily so. Only death will do us part.”

I hear ululating.

He kisses my hands.

Now he says his vows to me:

“The first time I laid my eyes on you, I was about eighteen years old. I knew right there and then that one day, I’d make you my wife. Look at us now, Mrs Thabang Mothipa waka.”

People ululate.

I smile at him.

“Your happiness will always come first to me… your happiness, your safety… as well as the happiness and the safety of our children. I love you, Morafe. I always have and I always will. Today is day one of the rest of our journey together, navigating this difficult life that will always be thrown our way - but we will conquer it all, together… simply because we are together and driven by the right things. May it always stay that way. The Mothipa family and ancestors will always be with us.”

People ululate.

After we’ve exchanged our rings, we finally kiss each other, and it poetically starts raining as this happens.

People are eating now. The bridal party is taking pictures. We ended up doing a studio shoot because the rain wouldn’t let us be great outdoors. When we are done, we head back to the reception. Instead of eating, Thabang and I open the dance floor with our first dance. He made us dance to Mbongeni Ngema’s Stimela Sase Zola. These dance moves, guys! He’s such a rural guy. I can’t! Lol! But we are happy. And we dance the night away… together… as husband and wife.

…

I’m waking up alone in bed this morning. I’m not sure where my wife is. I just relax before I go out and do anything. Yesterday felt like I was getting married for the first time. Someone was forever telling me what to do and where to stand. Morafe says it was a wedding planner and a wedding choreographer. There was a whole team of them, and they became annoying at some point.

But my favourite parts were our vows (I had never done that before), the first dance (I had never done that before) and definitely, without a doubt, making the love of my life my wife. It honestly felt like I was getting married for the first time yesterday. I’m such a happy man.

I make my way downstairs to the kitchen to see if my wife is perhaps in there. All three of my wives are here and they seem to be arguing about something. I hide behind a wall and listen in.

“Morafe, I’m the first and senior wife here. And we believe in living in peace in this family. With you being here and marrying our husband, we hope that you will also bring with you peace within the family as well as growth for the family.” Mmakabelo.

Morafe mustn’t take that to heart. She told me she doesn’t want any more kids and I’ve respected it. I’m not going to put the pressure on her, therefore no one has the right to do it.

“I’m the second wife. And I’m more senior than you. I’ll be very honest with you and tell you already that you will have problems around here if you will continue to behave as if you are the only wife to Thabang.” Mahali.

Yerrr!

“How have I done that, Mahali?” Morafe enquires.

“Let’s start off by talking about that wedding you had yesterday. Our weddings were not even half of that size. Let’s talk about how you insulted us by practically having a white wedding with our husband when we all know that we don’t do that. Do you really think that you are the most important wife or that you are the last wife that he will marry?” What’s wrong with Mahali?!

“With all due respect, Mahali… I don’t need your permission to host my events the way that I see fit. I had a conversation with my husband about the kind of wedding that I wanted, and he had no problem giving me that wedding. I’m not going to turn away friends and family for wanting to celebrate with us and I’m certainly not going to use your wedding as a benchmark of the kind of wedding that I wanted to have. I’m not going to apologise for celebrating the love that my husband and I share the way that I saw fit just because you didn’t think to have it yourself. I’m sure if you asked for it when it was your turn, Thabang would have given you that wedding.” Morafe says. I’m very glad that she’s standing up for herself. And while she raises very valid points, I want to be clear that I would have never done what I did yesterday with anyone else.

“You think you are better than us wena, neh? Bona mo ausi nyana, we have a system that works around here that ensures that all the wives are equal. You are not going to just get here and change it. You are not special! Now, each wife has specific days allocated to her to spend time with our husband. Each wife further has specific weekends that are allocated to her spending time with our husband. This thing of yours of pulling Thabang to holidays and events and whatever else you pull him too on OUR weekends is not going to fly. When you want to have plans with him, make sure that it’s on your weekends with him, not ours. You don’t sacrifice your weekends for us, so I don’t understand why it is expected of us to sacrifice our weekends for you. Le rona we have plans with our husband and I’m getting tired of having to cancel my plans to accommodate you! And ausi weh, when he is with us on our days or weekends, you don’t phone him a million times a day. He’s spending time with us and his kids. You are not his only wife.” Yerrr! Mahali is a problem. And Mmakabelo is just quiet. I wonder if she also feels the same way that Mahali does.

“And one more thing…” Mahali ha qedi nah?!

“No one had a honeymoon here. That voucher to the Maldives that you got for a honeymoon ausi nyana… we are all going together!”

Yeses!

I walk into the kitchen now. I can just see that Morafe is angry.

“Dumelang”, I greet them.

“Dumela papa”, Mahali greets me first.

“Dumela Mothipa”, Mmakabelo.

Morafe just gives me a look.

“Is everything okay in here?” I ask, looking at Morafe.

She looks like she has tears ready to stream down her face.

“Everything is fine”, Mahali.

Mmakabelo looks away.

Morafe just stares at me. I don’t even know what her look means.

“Babe, we are all leaving here today. You’ll be with mom. She will take good care of you. And I’ll be here every weekend with you.” I say to Morafe.

Mahali almost loses her mind. Mmakabelo chuckles.

“You didn’t come see me at all when I had to serve my month with your mother!” Mahali points out.

I just look at her then look at Morafe again. Then I say, “then after that, it’s just you and me at the Maldives. I can’t wait. We will be gone for two weeks, right?”

Morafe is just…

“We were actually talking about that, papa. Morafe insists that all of us go.” Mahali.

“That won’t be possible. It’s a voucher for two people”, me.

“Well, you’ll have to amend it. Mmakabelo and I didn’t have a honeymoon. If one wife has a honeymoon, we all go. Akere we are all equal, papa?” Mahali.

“To me, yes. And if I were paying for the honeymoon, I’d definitely take all three of you. It would be the right thing to do. But this voucher is a gift from Morafe’s friend and unfortunately, you are not all equal before Morafe’s friends… just as she isn’t equal to you in the eyes of your friends. This gift is for Morafe and me. Ke tsamaya leMorafe fela.” I say.

“Papa -

“Are you really going to argue with me about a gift that is not gifted to you, Mahali?” Me.

She gives a piercing stare at Morafe.

“Are we all ready for breakfast?” I ask.

“Mahali…” Morafe says. But her tone is very… frightening.

We all look at her.

“I will not be bullied by you, do you understand me?! Thabang is my husband too and I don’t need your permission to do anything with him. I certainly will not be reporting to you when I want to do things with my husband. Nna, I go to my husband. He will decide what he does after that.”

“Morafe -

“Shut up! I’m not done!” Morafe’s voice is now raised. Mahali is also a bit shaky… she didn’t expect this from Morafe.

“Don’t involve me in your marriage, just like I don’t involve you in mine. I’m prepared to bring the peace that Mmakabelo has asked of us in this family. But don’t ever get too familiar with me. I’ll show you flames! I’m confident that we can co-exist in the same space considering that we have our husband in common, but ung’thuse! Uskang’tlwayela masepa!”

With this, she walks off.

I try to follow her, but Mmakabelo calls me to the side.

I walk with Mmakabelo and we step outside, leaving Mahali alone and angry in the kitchen.

“Mothipa, it’s very obvious that you love Morafe and I’m very happy for you to have found love in your situation. But you are going to put her life in danger if you carry on this way.” She says.

“If I carry on how?” I ask her.

“Really? Ruri, Mothipa?! Was that wedding yesterday necessary? Is you coming here every weekend while she does her duties necessary? The honeymoon thing I can forgive, but even that I just feel nje that you are highlighting your favouritism very brightly. And I warned you about Mahali. I told you that lunatic is not stable. You thought I was being jealous and you fought me for her. But msadi oe otsamaya dingaka, Thabang, and if you don’t stop this thing of yours of blatantly putting Morafe first and shamelessly flaunting the fact that she is your choice and not the Mothipa circumstance, Mahali will kill her and the kids. Mahali is capable of ANYTHING, Thabang. ANYTHING!”

I ponder on what she’s saying.

“For Morafe’s sake, Mothipa, reduce the volume on the favouritism. I know that you love her and that you cannot help yourself, but for her, try. Surely, you don’t want to lose her.” She says.

I nod my head.

“Do we have proof? That otsamaya dingaka?” I ask her.

“I’ve seen her. Many people have seen her. The places she goes to are very scary.” She says.

I shake my head.

“I need to catch her red-handed.” I say.

“Well, akere you said that you are spending the weekend here this week? Keep to that story. When she thinks you are away, her guard will be down. Then you follow her and see what she does when you are not looking. You’ll see for yourself the kind of animal that you brought into our lives. This cat and mouse shit between these two women will not end well. Mark my words.” She says then heads back into the house.

…

9pm

I’ve just arrived at my apartment. I left Mosetsana, Tshenolo and Meme at Morafe’s house with Morafe’s mother. I also left Morafe’s car with them so that the mother that can do school runs and other chores. Morafe gave her hectic rules about men in the house and all of that. I know I’ll have to go patrol to ensure that all is well. Fortunately, Morafe’s mother can drive, so mine really is to just check in on them. She drove back with Morafe’s car, so she will be using that car for the next month.

Everyone who grew up in the Maja-Perre area knows that Morafe’s mother got by and supported her kids through prostitution. Then we all knew when Mmaletuka got into it as well. When Morafe ran away from home, I was very happy that she wouldn’t be in that life because no one was sure if Mmaletuka was bullied into that life or if she chose it. The fact that Morafe’s mother is still selling bums and that men are still buying… yoh, that’s wild to me. She is a beautiful woman and she gave birth to stunning daughters. The most stunning of them all is my wife today, but no man… she must retire. Morafe is already taking care of her.

I wanted to stay an extra night with Morafe. This weekend has been wild for us. Her sister is in prison and Morafe is not even talking about getting her out. The mother will not stop crying and she keeps begging me to talk to Morafe to drop the charges. The mother argues that at the end of the day, Morafe had her perfect wedding. Why is Mmaletuka still behind bars? Surely, it’s water under the bridge now. I don’t agree with this argument. The woman must take accountability for her actions. Just because she loses her temper and doesn’t know how to control herself, inconveniencing everyone else in the mix, she doesn’t get excused for that. Those dresses that had to be replaced… I paid for them. I reimbursed Wandi’s mother and I paid the queen for the dresses she brought. And it was a lot of money. We all know that Mmaletuka doesn’t have the money to pay us back, so even if we drop the assault and arson charges, we cannot sue for the damage. I see why Morafe prefers that she pays for it with trauma.

I’m also worried about Morafe because of the shit with Mahali. I really just want to hold her, hug her and tell her that I’d never let anything happen to her. But my mom told me that I need to go. She will more than teach Morafe how to be strong in this marriage. My mom told me to trust her and not baby Morafe so much, otherwise Mahali will slice her into pieces for breakfast. I trust my mother. I really do.

I decide to drive to Mahali’s house. I need to talk to this woman and put her in her place.

As I drive there, tired as I am, Morafe phones me.

“Hey baby”, me.

“Hey. Did you get home safely?” She asks me.

“I did, love. I’m just on the road now. I need to talk to Mahali.”

“Okay. Look baby, I don’t want issues. And I know I’m supposed to respect Mahali because she is a more senior wife to me. So, I’m sorry that I lost my cool with her this morning.”

“I’m not going to be mad at you for standing up for yourself, Morafe. I’m actually proud of you. Had you not put your foot down, she would’ve walked all over you. You did very well.” I tell her.

“If you say so.”

She sounds sad.

“Baby, is everything okay?” I ask her.

“I just miss you. I miss the kids. And I’m just having an emotional meltdown here because of everything that just happened this weekend. Your mom is so nice to me and she’s trying to just tell me that these things happen, you know… but I just feel so down… depressed almost.” She says.

I really should’ve stayed another night.

“Do you want me to come over there and just sleep next to you tonight?” I ask her.

“No. Mahali will put juju on me and you’ll never enjoy sex with me again”, she says.

We both actually laugh at this.

“Look my angel, we have been through a lot. But we are standing at the end of it all now. It’s gone. It’s done. And the result is that you are my wife and I’m your husband. One day, we will look over this and laugh. We made it, baby. And the kingdom has celebrated us and our love with us.”

“Yeah, you are right. Anyway love, I’m going to bed. You’ll call me in the morning? I wouldn’t want to call you while you are with Mahali. She gave me a whole rule book about that.”

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll phone you. Goodnight, okay?”

“Goodnight, T. I love you.” She says. My heart….

“I love you, pelo yaka.” I say.

We hang up.

I arrive at Mahali’s place and park my car in the garage. I make my way into the house. I find her watching some reality show. She looks at me then stares at her show again.

“Mahali”, I begin.

She looks at me.

“Would you like us to get a divorce?” I ask her.

She is now on her feet. She even switches off the TV.

“What did you just say to me?” She says.

“I asked you a question. I asked you if you’d like to get a divorce”, I say.

“Thabang, keng ka wena? Ke Morafe?” Her.

“Tswa koMorafe. Tswa daar! Ke wena motho otsamayang dingaka akere? You just do as you please and say as you please regardless of the mess that you leave behind!” I’m shouting now.

“What gives you the right to say the things that you said to Morafe this morning?! Waphapha wena! The guide into our family and marriage is Mmakabelo’s job. She is my first wife. I don’t know on what authority you were even opening your mouth this morning to my wife!”

She starts crying. I knew she’d do this.

“I spoke to my father.” I say.

Now she’s shit scared.

“Le tona?” Her.

“That’s the only father I have! He will be contacting your family and there will be a meeting about your behaviour. I’ve had enough of your shit now. You have two days to decide if you want a divorce or not. I’ll give you one. I don’t mind. But if you stay in this family, you’ll clean up your act and get your shit together… or else I’ll be the one taking the drastic measures! I should’ve listened to Mmakabelo when she warned me about you. You are exactly what she said you’d be! Nx!”

With this, I leave her house. I know she’s going to cry into the night. I don’t give a shit! I’m actually tempted to drive to Dithabeng and go hug my wife. But I decide against it. It’s eight hours away and my mom did ask me for space. My apartment it is. I’ll have a good glass of whiskey, watch football highlights then pass out.

[suntodayseeds-blog]

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[atlaese]

Ok so you can totally say no and ignore this. There is absolutely NO pressure. I’m just such a softie for caretaker Bucky. Like reader could be injured/fever/sick/headache anything it really doesn’t matter. I know it’s SUCH a trope, but the idea of our boy being concerned and soft for reader makes me swooooooon. Like using his cold metal hand to cool her forehead for comfort. UGH.

WASTELAND, BABY! - b.b.

Summary: The date itself was perfect. Dinner at home with Alpine at your feet? Check. Great company? Double check. Finger-licking food? Hmm, not so much. The day after was even less than ideal. Fortunately, Bucky knows a thing or two about nursing you back to health. Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader TW: illness, medicine, food poisoning, food, fluff Words: 2K A/N: Shannon, this was so cute, thank you so much for sending it in!! 💗 i hope you liked it! I had something but i wasn't happy with it and then rewrote it so lmao (also this is lowkey based on the time i had food poisoning whilst volunteering in south africa! don't order pizza with chicken and avocado from a shady restaurant!!🥲 i was so sick for a week) -> the title came from the song Wasteland, baby! by Hozier

MARVEL MASTERLIST | BUCKY BARNES MASTERLIST

The fact that you and Bucky hadn’t been able to go on a date in approximately three and a half months was horrifying to say the least. Between quick morning kisses before running off to go to work and late night cuddles in bed, it had been a real chore to find some extra time to just be together with Bucky.

Enough is enough, and you had requested a few days of leave, which the non-profit you worked for luckily allowed. Bucky had asked Torres to step in for him for a few days, needing a few days off from saving the world that was so hell-bent on destroying itself.

It was the first time in so long that you and Bucky had nothing to do on a friday night and though it felt alien at first, you easily fell back into the rhythm of comfort and belly laughs, soft touches that lingered and turned into feverish kisses.

Bucky preferred to stay in, order a pizza and just watch a movie together, avoid the prying eyes of the public that followed him everywhere he went. Bucky didn’t like parading around in town, much less when they would be able to scrutinize you as well - even though you were an absolute godsend that cared more for others than yourself.

Bucky wanted to hold you closely in his arms, get grounded again with your touches lingering on his skin where goosebumps would slowly form as he tried his best to get reconnected to you again. It was nice to just be together, home, on the couch getting lost in each other instead of the world that always demanded more and more of you.

Eventually, after pawing at each other for a few moments, your stomach grumbled, ruining the moment a bit, but also making Bucky laugh as he pressed another kiss on the soft skin under your ear, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

“I’ll order some pizzas, how ‘bout that?” he asked as he pulled up the menu of a nearby restaurant on his phone, scrolling through the countless choices as you crawled next to him, grabbing his arm to put it over your shoulders, nestling your head on his shoulder.

Alpine strutted in from the office and jumped up on the couch, doing a small stretch and then padding over to your lap. She loved basking in the heat of your lap, purring incessantly as Bucky listed all the options the restaurant had available.

“Wait, say that again,” you interrupted Bucky as he recited the long list of available pizzas the restaurant had to offer, “the one with avocado?”

“Uh, here - just a normal pizza with white sauce, chicken, avocado and some veggies,” he wrinkled his nose, thinking about the weird combination of ingredients.

Bucky didn’t say anything about how excited you were about this awful combination and placed the order, adding a pepperoni for himself, already preparing for the fact that you wouldn’t like the pizza and would steal half of his. He didn’t really mind, hell, he’d give you the whole pizza if you didn’t like yours, but it was pretty funny to see your face scrunch up, before you’d lightly push your plate towards him and throw in a doe-eyed look as well. Bucky just couldn’t resist then.

When the delivery guy rang the doorbell, you carefully lifted Alpine out of your lap into Bucky’s and padded over towards the door to accept the pizzas. You tipped the man before turning back to Bucky and Alpine.

Bucky’s pizza looked and smelled amazing when he opened the box, and when you opened yours, it smelled okay as well - maybe not as good as his though, you had to admit.

“You’re still sure chicken and avocado on pizza is a good idea?” he lifted a brow in question as he watched you try out the pizza.

“You can have half of mine,” he added, a little bit worried when you didn’t immediately respond but just stared at the pizza in front of you, a deadpan expression plastered on your face.

“uhu,” you waved your finger, your mouth stuffed with pizza,“it’s quite good actually.”

“Alright,” Bucky responded, doubt still clear in his voice, but your smile made it evaporate immediately, another piece of pizza in your hand already.

The rest of the evening was spent in each other's presence, enjoying the mediocre pizza for you and laughing when Alpine got a case of the zoomies,  running around the apartment and jumping on top of Bucky and the top cabinet in the kitchen.

It had been pure bliss, spending the evening with your love right beside you, you couldn’t describe it otherwise.

* * *

The day after however, had not been that great. The morning had started off with a slight headache you blamed on caffeine withdrawals. Bucky had pushed a cup of freshly brewed coffee in your hands, his soft lips lingering on your forehead as his brow scrunched together in a worrisome manner.

“You are burning up, are you sure it’s nothing else?” he voiced his concerns, worry laced through his voice as he pressed the back of his right hand against your forehead to check your temperature again.

You leaned backwards to escape his touch, the hotness of his hand making your head feel even worse, and waved his worries away, “I'm alright. It’s been a while since we stayed up this late, must be my body telling me to take it easy.”

Bucky wasn’t fully convinced of your words, his eyes focusing on your lethargic movements through the apartment as you shuffled your way to the couch in the living room, but he let it go anyway.

Seems like Bucky was right in the end after all.

After you had downed your coffee, you had actually returned to bed, claiming you were still feeling tired from staying up until ungodly hours and you had to sleep it off. You made a promise to Bucky that when you’d wake up later, you’d go on a walk through the park together to get some fresh air.

However, when Bucky went up to the bedroom after two hours of radio-silence from you, he found you shivering under a pile of blankets, sweat coating your face as you tried your best to not grimace when he came to sit beside you on the bed.

“Guess that coffee didn’t really wake you up, huh,” he softly said, his right hand coming up to check your temperature again.

The only thing you could do was groan, every part of your body ached and the swishing that was going around in your stomach wasn’t helping at all. Your bones felt like they were brittle, every movement would be able to break them. Your head felt like a ticking time-bomb, ready to explode whenever the pressure would get too much. This might have been the worst illness you ever had - except for when you got the flu when you were seven.

The decision you and Bucky had made to purchase white linen curtains made you curse your past self. The light that was filtering through usually woke you up in a gentle manner, softly kissing your skin with its warmth on your face making you feel like everything was right in the world.

Now they just mocked you. The light stung your eyes, made your head scream out for some darkness, some alleviation from the pressure that kept building up in your skull.

“Think the chicken might have gotten to me,” you managed to get out. Your throat felt like sandpaper, scratchy and hoarse and just tired.

The sheets on the bed made your skin crawl, the softly woven cotton sticking to your skin. The sheets on top of your body were too hot, but whenever you threw them off, you’d immediately start shivering, the sheen of sweat cooling you off too quickly.

“Can I get you anything?” Bucky said, his voice in a lower register, trying his best to not make any unnecessary noise to spare your head from killing you.

Bucky had never seen you this sick. Sure, you’d get a headache once in a while. Like clockwork you’d get a cold when the temperatures dipped below the freezing point. He’d supply you with tissues all over the house, bring you peppermint tea to clear your sinuses and stroke your hair when you were lying on the couch together, watching reruns of The Office.

“Uh, just some medicine maybe, from the cabinet?” you whispered, looking into his clear blue eyes that were awash with worry, worry that this was something more than food poisoning, worry that, even though you were a human who gets sick once in a while, that there could be something very wrong. Something that would rip you away from him, in a heartbeat.

“Sure,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss against your forehead before he went searching for the specific medicine in the cabinet you were adamant on hanging in the bathroom.

After looking through the cabinet, he returned with a glass of water, the medicine for your stomach and some aspirins for the fever and headache.

With shaky hands you downed the glass of water with the aspirine, as well as a shot of the medicine.

“Yuck,” your mouth turned in a frown at the bitter taste of the medicine. Bucky removed the glass from your hands and wanted to check your temperature again.

This time however, his right hand was holding the glass, so his vibranium hand softly pressed against your forehead.

The feeling of the cold metal against your feverish forehead alleviated the pressure in your head significantly as you let out a deep sigh, slowly letting your eyes close.

“Sweetheart? Everything alright?” he said, worry seeping back into his voice again as he wanted to remove his hand to get a better look of your face.

“No,” you mumbled, pressing both of your hands against his on your forehead, letting the cool metal reduce the pressure in your head, “please just keep your hand here for a bit.”

Bucky now chuckled and moved to sit a little closer to you, his left hand not leaving your head, “ah, better than the ol’ flesh hand, huh?”

You just slightly nodded, keeping your eyes closed as you hoped the medicine would start to kick in soon, finally making you feel less shit than before.

“Can I do anything else?” Bucky softly asked, still worried that talking too loud would worsen your head ache.

Bucky just wanted you to get better. Seeing the person you love incapacitated in bed with a fever made him icky. Whereas in avenger duties he could always do something, help someone in some way, here he could only give you medicine and care for you. It made him feel a bit useless.

You just opened one of your eyes, your voice coming out small and powerless, “can you just cuddle with me?”

“With your hand on my head?” you added, a small pout on your lips which Bucky wanted to kiss until they were swollen and not in a pout anymore.

“Ofcourse, bub,” Bucky moved onto the bed, laying down next to you as he cradled your head in the nook of his arm, his vibranium arm wrapping around you in a way where he could still press his hand on your forehead.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his chest, pressing a small kiss against his collarbone before closing your eyes again.

Bucky pressed his lips against the top of your head, “anything for you, darling.”

The rest of the day was spent in bed, Bucky pressed against you as the medicine worked its way through your body. Alpine eventually found her way to the bedroom and of course, she crawled between the two of you, demanding heat from both of your bodies.

The weekend hadn’t been what you expected, far from it actually, but knowing Bucky would take care of you, even on the worst days, made it all a bit better.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 9

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,257

Warnings: mention of accident, mention of blood

A/N: I’m sorry this took longer than usual but it’s pretty long so yay! I hope you’ll like this chapter. We’re slowly getting there :’) Thank you for the feedback, I truly appreciate all of you! Also 1 marvel quote and several Bob Ross quotes that I obv don’t own.

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

Good luck on your interview xx

Bucky had just hit ‘send’ when Sam cleared his throat noisily, drawing Bucky’s attention away from his phone. His friends were frowning crossly at him, their glasses raised in a silent toast. He set his phone face-down on the table and picked up his glass.

“Sorry, you were saying?”

Sam shot Steve a ‘see?’ look and Steve replied with a shrug and a little smile. They looked like two sassy grandmothers judging their only grandson. Bucky checked his phone again, and out of his peripheral vision, he could see his grandmothers share another look.

“What?” he barked, annoyed.

“Nothin,” they both answered at the same time before they took a synchronized sip of orange juice.

Smacking his lips together, Sam opened the menu and began to skim through the choices. A waiter suddenly came out of nowhere to take their order. Bucky ordered a cranberry rosemary scone, smoked bacon, an eggplant sandwich, and a plate of lemon-ricotta pancakes.

“Excuse-me,” Sam called out to the waiter. “Could you make his pancakes in the shape of an angel?” he asked, ignoring Bucky who was openly glaring at him.

The waiter, albeit a little surprised, kept a smile on his face. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Bucky told him, handing him the menu. “Thank you.”

Without another look to his friends, he grabbed his phone and checked his messages for the third time in less than two minutes. Steve snatched his phone up and sat back in his seat, waving the phone at Bucky.

“Enough! Live in the moment.” He pocketed the phone and gave Bucky a pointed stare. “You’ll get it back later.”

“What the hell? You’re not my father, give it back!” Bucky snapped, extending his hand, the palm facing up. Steve shook his head. “Give it back, you fucking meatball.”

He got up and tried to reach inside Steve’s pocket for his phone but Steve kept shifting in his seat. They wrestled like that for a minute while Sam watched them, eating a breadstick and looking mildly entertained.

“Okay, fine,” Bucky panted, pushing himself away from Steve. “You leave me no choice, Rogers.” He cleared his throat like an actor about to jump on stage. “Give me back my phone, Steve!” he said, raising his voice. “Do you enjoy stealing from disabled people?”

He nearly shouted the last two words, and to Steve’s horror, the buzz of conversation around them had died. He could feel people staring at him. Cursing softly under his breath, he reached into his pocket and dropped the phone into Bucky’s awaiting hand.

“It’s okay, we’re friends,” Steve said to the people sitting behind him. They looked at him with a disapproving glare. “Jesus, Bucky, you’re making me look like an asshole.”

An amused expression crossed Bucky’s face as he sat back in his seat. “Don’t touch my stuff.”

It was quiet while he checked his messages. Slowly, those around them returned to their own conversations. Sam pointed his half-eaten breadstick at Steve.

“Do you think the waiter will spit in your omelette?” he said the last word with an exaggerated French accent. Steve glared at him.

Their waiter arrived a moment later carrying a large tray with their brunch. Steve poked at his omelet with a suspicious frown, then looked over at Bucky who was still on his phone. Sam stole a slice of bacon from Bucky’s plate and gave it to Steve.

“I hear you’ve got a date tonight,” Sam said, making conversation.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckled, embarrassed. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just looking for something casual. I’m leaving in two days.”

“Where’re you going this time?”

“South Africa,” Steve replied, stealing another slice of bacon. “What about you? What’s that big emergency?”

Sam glanced at Bucky who was grinning like an idiot at his phone. “Not now. Let’s eat first.” He took the plate of bacon, took what he wanted then handed it to Steve. “Want another?”

Steve kept looking over at Bucky while they finished his bacon but Bucky didn’t seem to acknowledge their presence. He was in his own little bubble.

“It’s like we don’t even exist,” Steve remarked out loud.

“I know, it’s amazing. Look!” Sam straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. “Bucky Barnes is the biggest idiot on the planet, and he can eat my farts.” Bucky was hunched over his phone, his thumb typing away. “See?”

“Impressive.”

“That’s the angel effect,” Sam said.

With a happy little sigh, Bucky pocketed his phone and turned his attention to his friends. He frowned at the amused look they shared.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Steve’s first date in two years.” Sam turned to Steve. “You must be nervous.”

“Strangely, no.” Steve broke off a small piece of omelet with his fork. “I actually know him. He’s an old friend from college.”

“Nice,” Sam said.

“He’s a fashion photographer now.”

“Wait, what?” Bucky’s brows pinched in confusion as he stared at Steve.

Undeterred, Steve continued. “We’ve been facetiming a lot lately.” He shot Bucky a glance. “Why do you think I go to bed at 8?”

“But I thought-”

“You thought I had a date with your girl,” Steve said with a warm smile. “Listen, man, I like her. She’s cute, funny, talented. She’s a real sweetheart. But I like her because she brought back that light in your eyes. You look happy. That’s all I ever wanted for you. You had to go through so much crap, Buck. You deserve this.”

Bucky looked down at his pancakes, feeling tears pool in his eyes. He blinked them back and sniffed quietly. “So you were never going to ask her out.”

“I was until you called her ‘angel’,” Steve replied with a shrug. “You kept saying you were okay with this but, I mean, I’m not that dense.”

“Why do you keep going out with her then?” Bucky grumbled.

“Jeez, Mother Gothel, I didn’t know Rapunzel wasn’t allowed to leave the tower,” Steve exclaimed. “We were bored. You’re in your office all day. It was fun to mess with you though. You’re a grumpy Gus when you’re jealous.”

“I wasn’t jealous, okay. I was annoyed. There’s a difference.”

“Uh-huh.”

Bucky looked over at Sam who had been strangely quiet throughout this whole exchange. He loved teasing Bucky, and he always had something to say about Bucky’s love life. Sam wasn’t looking at Bucky, he just pushed his food around with his fork, his lips pinched shut. He met Bucky’s eyes, then lowered his head again.

Bucky had a feeling something bad was about to happen.

“What’s the big emergency?” he asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

Sam set his fork down beside his plate and leaned back against his chair with a sigh. He trained his gaze on the front door, seemingly deep in thought.

“I’m moving to D.C.” He paused to let the information sink in. “They’re transferring me to the D.C. office. I’m their new chief financial officer.”

“Congrats, man!” Steve exclaimed. “You deserve it.”

“Yeah,” Sam replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“So why the long face?”

“I’m a little anxious to leave New York. What will Barnes do without me? Without his mentor? Without someone to look up to?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll be all right.” He hesitated before he asked, “Did you tell her?”

“Tell who?” Steve inquired, polishing off the last of his omelet.

Bucky felt the wave of long-held sadness his Sam’s eyes. “I’ll tell her tonight.”

“Can someone tell me what’s going on?”

Sam and Bucky shared a look. They weren’t sure how Steve would react.

The word sugar daddy held a pejorative connotation. Every single one of those relationships featured a powerful, rich man and a poor, vulnerable man or woman. There was a clear power imbalance here that never appealed to Bucky, and he was pretty sure it never appealed to Sam either.

Whether it was a no-strings-attached service or an emotional service, it was still a hole in your resume. One that would be hard to explain to your future employers. He was afraid people would call you names, treat you differently or harass you if they knew.

He often wondered if he had unintentionally ruined your life.

Deep down he knew Steve would never call you a whore or treat you differently but he was still trying to protect your reputation. He believed that Sam had Natasha’s best interest at heart too.

Sam told Steve everything. He remembered the day he had met Natasha, their instant chemistry, the subtle flirting, the arrangement, their first night out, their first kiss, their first time together, their new arrangement. Steve listened attentively. When Sam told him that you were Natasha’s best friend, Bucky interrupted him and told his own story.

“Wow,” Steve deadpanned, leaning forward to take one of Sam’s poached egg and avocado toast. Sam slapped his hand away. “Is that a thing now? Sugar daddies, I mean?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“Yeah.” Steve sipped his mimosa with a bored look on his face. “You’re both not ready for the real conversation, so I’m just making small talk.”

Sam and Bucky exchanged confused looks. “What real conversation?”

“Sam, you just got an amazing promotion, you’re going to be the Prince of D.C. and you’re sitting here like someone kicked your puppy,” Steve replied, then turned to Bucky. “And you, well... I’ve been living with you for the past two weeks and you’ve gone all Alpha male on me, Buck. Cut the shit. You’re both in love with your sugar babies. Companions, or whatever the fuck you want to call them.”

Sam and Bucky sat in silence with their heads hung low. Steve opened his arms wide like a lawyer in a bad TV show saying ‘I rest my case’.  When he spoke again, his voice was soft.

“Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't,” he said. “What’s the worst that could happen, um?”

It made Bucky think. Best-case scenario, you loved him too and life was a breeze for the next fifty years. Bad-case scenario, you didn’t share his feelings. Worst-case scenario, you shared his feelings but couldn’t make the transition from sugar baby to girlfriend.

Yeah, worst-case scenario sucked...

He came home around three in the afternoon, and smiled when he saw your shoes and coat. Knowing you were home always put him in a good mood, but his heart was heavy. He felt conflicted. He didn’t know if it was better to tell you how he felt now or to just keep living in this little bubble with you until it’d inevitably burst.

And to make things worse, Sam was going to end his contract with Natasha tonight. He made Bucky promise not to tell you about it. Bucky felt sorry for Natasha, he wondered if she had feelings for Sam. He wondered if she had a backup plan.

He found you in your studio, sitting on the floor, huddled against the wall, with one knee drawn up to your chest and your arms loosely wrapped around your leg. You were staring at the painting you’d just made, the still wet paint glistened under the artificial lights.

This painting was different from your usual landscapes and occasional portraits. There were various shades of blue and grey intertwined, and five big splotches of dark red paint layered on top of the canvas.

Bucky knew just by looking at you that something was wrong. You looked defeated, sad, upset. He reasoned that your interview didn’t go as planned. Quietly, he stepped into the room and sat down on the floor next to you, his left shoulder brushing your own.

“I just got home,” he said.

“Where’s Steve?”

“He said he had some errands to run. He’ll be back later.”

You nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Okay. I bet you can’t wait to have some time to yourself. I asked Natasha if I could stay with her, but she’s going out with Sam tonight. I’ll stay in my room, I won’t bother you.”

Bucky felt his heart drop, his breath caught in his throat. He had made the woman he loved feel unwelcome. God, he wanted to kick his own ass.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tilting his head to look at you but you were stubborn and refused to meet his eye. “I thought you were going out with Steve and I- I didn’t want you to feel like you had to stay with me.”

“I’m not interested in Steve. I told you that.”

“I know.” He moved so that he could see your face. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you, and for the way I treated Steve. It won’t happen again. I promise. Can you forgive me?”

“Of course, Bucky,” you huffed.

He saw your chin quiver slightly and your eyes glaze over with unshed tears. You looked utterly broken. He reached up and wiped a stray tear from your cheek.

“Sorry, I had a difficult day,” you said.

His palm cupped the side of your face, his thumb stroking a caress across your cheek. You met his eyes for the first time and he smiled softly at you.

“My angel.”

His words made you cry even harder, silent tears streaming down your cheeks. With his hand still cupping the side of your face, he leaned closer and pressed his lips against your other cheek. You closed your eyes and basked in his affection.

He could feel the warmth of your tears, could taste the salt on his lips as they streamed down your cheek to his mouth. Slowly, he pulled back and looked at you, a smile forming on his lips when he saw a fleck of dried blue paint above your eyebrows.

“Painter Smurf,” he teased, wiping it off. You let out a huff of air that sounded like a laugh. “I’m here for you, angel, whatever you need.” He pulled you against his side and you rested your head on his chest.

“My interview didn’t go very well,” you said after a long moment of silence. “She said that I’m really talented, that my technique is perfect. But my work is too figurative. It’s not what she’s looking for.” You paused to wipe your nose on your sleeve. “It’s just- It wasn’t my first meeting. They all tell me the same thing: I’m not good enough.”

“That’s not true,” Bucky said, kissing your hair. “Your work is unique. It’s raw and beautiful. If they can’t see that then they’re morons.”

“She told me that if I had been a white man in the nineteenth century, people would still talk about me today.” You sighed. “I don’t know, Bucky. Maybe I should work on something more abstract.”

Bucky tilted his head to one side as he looked at your painting. “Is that why you painted this?”

“Mhhh,” you hummed. “She told me to play with the textures, the forms, the lines, the colours. Suggest rather than show. Let the painting tell its own story.”

“Yeah, I think you did it.”

“You think it’s good?”

“I don’t think those adjectives apply here. Not with modern art. It’s in the eye of the beholder,” he said, running his fingers along your shoulder. “Abstract art isn’t supposed to be beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel something, right?”

“How does it make you feel?”

“Unsettled, sad.”

You straightened up and sat shoulder to shoulder. “My brother died in a hit-and-run.” You let the information sink in for a minute. “I was with Okoye, we got a call from our mom but by the time we got to the hospital, he was already dead.”

Your voice was surprisingly calm and controlled. Bucky wanted to reach out to you but he was unable to move. He listened attentively, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest.

“He was wearing some kind of compression shirt, grey-blue with two white stripes, and it was covered in blood. When I close my eyes and think of that day, all I remember is that shirt and the blood.” You tilted your head and gave him a little smile. “That’s what I painted.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He couldn’t think of anything to say.

“Sorry,” you let out a small laugh. “I had a shitty meeting and then I came home and basically relived one of the worst days of my life to put it on a canvas. Now it’s staring at me and all I want is to shred it to pieces.”

Bucky noticed that your hand was close to one of your palette knives. Your fingers brushed against the handle, debating whether you should pick it up and slash the canvas. He laid his hand on top of yours.

“It won’t help,” he said. “Trust me. I can put the painting somewhere else if you want. You won’t have to look at it again. I promise.”

“Yes, please.”

“C’mon, beautiful, let’s go downstairs. I know someone who can help you.” He got to his feet and extended his hand to you. You frowned up at him, a silent question in your eyes. “His name is Bob and he paints happy little trees.”

A bright, wide smile spread until it lit up your whole face, and Bucky’s heart melted at the sight. He grinned at you and pulled you to your feet.

“I love Bob Ross,” you said, and Bucky gave your hand a little squeeze.

In the living room, you sat down on the sofa, crossing your legs under you and grabbed a blanket while Bucky connected his YouTube account to the TV. He sat down beside you, propping his feet up on the coffee table and adjusting the blanket in his lap.

“Hi, welcome back. Certainly glad you could join me today.” The show started and you melted against Bucky’s chest, pulling the blanket up to your neck. “Thought today we could do a fantastic little painting-”

You were pressed against his bad side, but Bucky didn’t mind. As the show progressed, you slid further into his lap until your head rested on the armrest of the sofa, close to Bucky’s right hand.

“People know when you’re happy. They can look at your paintings and tell how you were happy. They reflect your moods. Paintings are a reflection of your innermost feelings.”

He gave your head a little massage while you both watched Bob Ross create a stunning lake view painting.

“Cuz in your world, you can create any kind of illusion that you want. I spent half my life in the military, and I had to live in somebody else’s world all the time. Painting offered me freedom, I’d come home after all day of playing soldier and I could paint the kind of world that I wanted. It was clean, it was sparkling, shiny, beautiful-”

You shifted a little, and Bucky wondered if those words resonated with what you had been through. Being adopted, losing a brother, taking care of your sick mother when your siblings left, graduating, making ends meet... Those experiences had shaped you into the woman you would be for the rest of your life. A kind and strong woman who never really got to live or enjoy life.

He understood how important painting was to you. He was an artist too. He wasn’t a painter, but writing offered him a kind of freedom he had lost a long time ago.

“We should paint along,” you said, tilting your head up to look at him. “Then I’ll sell yours. I bet people would pay a lot of money to own an original Grant Thomas painting.”

Bucky chuckled. He knew you were teasing him, the slight curl of your lips said as much. “I’ll sign it James Barnes. It’ll be worthless.”

“It’s not worthless to me,” you said.

“Would you hang it in your room?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then, okay, I’ll paint along with you.”

When the episode ended, you decided to eat dinner first and paint later. You were sitting at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of leftover pasta from the night before, when Steve came home.

“Hey guys,” he greeted, throwing a plastic bag on the kitchen island before he made his way to his bedroom.

“I’m so fucking late. I still need to take a shower and get dressed.” Steve came out of his room, shirtless, and working his belt buckle open. “Hey, Buck, can I borrow some clothes?”

“I swear to fuckin’ God, Rogers, if you undress in the middle of the kitchen I’ll make you eat your jeans.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

He rushed to the bathroom and closed the door behind him. A minute later, Bucky heard the shower running.

Later, you went upstairs to gather canvases, paint brushes and paint while Bucky helped Steve pick out an outfit.

Steve was too excited about his date to remind Bucky that he was an idiot, and Bucky was happy that for once they didn’t talk about his feelings for you. He teased Steve and watched as Steve squirmed, the tip of his ears bright red. Just like old times.

Then they met you downstairs where you had two easels set up in front of the television. Steve stood in front of you, visibly nervous and agitated, while you looked at him from head to toe.

“How do I look?”

“Like you’re wearing clothes two sizes too small for you, which makes you look even bigger than you normally are so... pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

You chuckled. “You look great, Steve.”

Steve responded with a relieved sigh and a little bashful smile. Bucky liked that look on Steve, it reminded him of their childhood when Steve awkwardly flirted his way through Brooklyn.

Bucky jerked back to the present when Steve turned to him for confirmation. He gave him a firm nod and a thumbs-up, then walked him to the kitchen. They talked about Steve’s plans for the night while Steve gathered up his things.

Bucky was walking back to the living room when Steve called out his name and threw something to him. Bucky caught it in mid-air, then looked down at his hand. A shiny looking condom wrapper was nestled in the palm of his hand. He scowled at Steve.

“Just in case,” Steve said with a shit-eating grin.

“You’re a dead man.”

Steve’s laughter echoed down the corridor as he left the apartment.

Blowing out a breath, Bucky pocketed the foil packet and joined you in the living room. You were sitting at your easel, blobs of paint arranged in a semicircle on a palette. There was another easel next to yours, with a palette resting on a stool to make things easier for him.

You selected the lake view episode you had watched earlier, thinking that it would make things easier. Bucky was in awe of you, you made painting look so effortless and beautiful. You added your own trees and clouds, shifting things around to create your own world.

Bucky followed Bob Ross’ instructions closely but, in his opinion, it looked like someone had made it with their feet. You laughed at his comment and told him that you would still hang it in your room. It boosted his ego a bit.

When you both finished your painting, Bucky looked up at the clock. It was close to midnight which made him do a double take.

“Time for me to hit the hay,” he said, yawning. “This is as good as it’s gonna get.”

“Mhh,” you mused, turning the TV off.

“You okay?”

You shrugged. “Yeah, I- uh, I was kind of hoping we’d do this all night,” you said, playing with a mostly dried paintbrush. You looked at him from under your lashes. “But it’s fine. I understand, you’re tired. I think I’ll wait for Steve.”

Bucky looked at you with a pained expression. He could tell something was bothering you. He placed his index finger under your chin and tilted your head up. “Angel, I don’t think Steve is coming home tonight.” You pinched your lips together and nodded. “Talk to me. I want to help.”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

Your words hit him like a punch in the chest, leaving him momentarily breathless. He pulled you close and pressed a long kiss to your forehead. You clung to him for dear life, your warmth and familiar scent made his heart ache.

“It’s okay,” he mumbled against your skin, then pulled back a little so he could look you in the eye. “Let’s change into something more comfortable, um? Then we’ll catch some shut-eye. I have an idea, the first person to fall asleep has to make breakfast tomorrow.”

“You sure?”

“You’re right. I’m exhausted, I’ll fall asleep first,” he said, shaking his head. “New rule, last person to fall asleep has to make breakfast.”

You snorted. “No, I meant... are we going to sleep in the same bed?”

“I promise I’ll stay on my side. But if it makes you uncomfortable, there’s a bunk bed in Steve’s room.”

“No, it’s fine. I want to wash my face first. I’ll see you in a minute.”

Bucky tried to play it cool but his heart was pounding. He kept seeing flashes of his dreams in his mind: skin against skin, steady puffs of air brushing against his skin, the smell of sweat and something uniquely you surrounding him.

He was absolutely terrified.

He went upstairs, took a quick shower, brushed his teeth and changed into his pyjamas. His night-time regimen took longer than he had anticipated so he wasn’t surprised when he found you sitting cross-legged on his bed, scrolling through your phone, looking so calm and peaceful.

You were wearing your pyjama bottoms and a fluffy sweatshirt stained with blue paint and tomato soup. He felt his stomach flip when you raised your head and smiled at him. A chill ran through his spine, and made the hairs on his arm stand on end. He’d never seen you look more beautiful.

“Hey,” you said, placing your phone on the nightstand. “Which side of the bed do you sleep on?”

“The side you’re sitting on.” You rolled to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers making him laugh. “You didn’t have to move.”

“It’s fine. I prefer this side.” You looked around the room. “I like your room. It’s very you.”

“Ah?”

“Yeah, neat, organized, lots of books, a cosy armchair, stormy blue comforter. It looks intimidating but it’s actually really soft. Like you.”

He suppressed a laugh. “Thanks.”

Bucky climbed into bed beside you, turned off the light and drew the blanket over him trying to get warm. He lay on his back looking up at the ceiling. He was so stiff and nervous, he forced himself to breathe normally. You turned onto your side and slid one of your hands under your pillow.

“Do you usually read before you go to sleep?” you whispered, afraid to disturb the silence.

“Yes,” he whispered back. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” There was a moment’s silence before you spoke again. “I’ve started reading your book.”

“Oh, Christ,” he let out a small laugh and turned his head to look at you, his eyes adjusting to the darkness. “I hope I didn’t traumatize you.”

“You have a very dark sense of humour,” you said. “But I already knew that.”

“I’ve always had a dark sense of humor, but trust me, when I lost my arm I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Therapy helped a lot. Besides, laughing is good for your health, right? My books are very personal, I don’t censor myself.”

“I know. I wasn’t expecting it to be so honest.” You shifted a little and looked away from him. “I don’t know if I’ll finish it, I feel like I’m intruding.”

“I understand.” He shifted slightly so he was lying on his left side, facing you. “I wrote it like a diary. Talking isn’t my strong suit. I don’t know, I think I’m trying too hard and I just end up being rude or not making sense. When I write, I take my time, I find the right words. It’s easier when I don’t have to look anyone in the eye.”

He knew his book was a little rough. He focused on his depression, his rehabilitation, relearning basically everything. He talked about rediscovering his body, intimately. He talked about his friends, his family, strangers, therapy, dating.

“Can I ask you a very personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever been in love?”

He swallowed hard, his throat raw and tight. “Yes.” In fact, he was in love right now. “Once. I don’t trust easily.”

“I know I read what happened between you and your girlfriend.”

She had been his first girlfriend since the accident. She was kind, patient, a little over excited but he found it cute. In a way, she reminded him of himself before the accident. She wasn’t afraid to touch him, and God, he needed to be touched.

Sam had witnessed little things that irked him but Bucky had ignored him, refusing to see the warning signs. He wanted to be happy again. But then he couldn’t bury his head in the sand anymore.

She treated him like a child in front of their friends, and her friends praised her for taking such good care of a man like him. A man who, in their mind, was high maintenance. She cut his meat for him even though he was perfectly capable of doing it himself. She helped him dress, tied his shoes, zipped up his coat, etc... He felt infantilized, humiliated.

He didn’t think she was a bad person though. It was just her personality.

“How’s Natasha?” he asked suddenly.

A puff of air caressed his face as you snorted out a laugh. “Why do you ask? You don’t like her.”

“I like her a lot,” he argued. “She seems wary of me, which I understand, but she’s great.”

“Yeah, she is.” You considered his words. “She’s doing well. She went on work date with Sam.”

Despite his promise to Sam, he couldn’t bear the thought of keeping things from you. “I have to tell you something about Sam and Nat.” You waited for him to continue. “Sam got promoted, he’s moving to D.C. He broke things off with Natasha tonight. I mean, their arrangement.”

“I know,” you said. “She texted me while you were in the bathroom. I’m going to spend the night at her place tomorrow. It’s been a while since we had a girls’ night, and we both really need it.”

“Good.” He cupped the side of your face, let his thumb brush your jaw. “I’m going out with the boys tomorrow. Steve’s leaving soon.” He pulled his hand back. “We should try to get some sleep.”

“No, please,” you said, shifting closer to him. “Not yet.”

“Angel, we can’t stay awake all night.”

“I don’t want to be alone in the dark.”

“I’m right here with you,” he spoke gently.

“But once you fall asleep I’ll be alone.”

Bucky raised his head and kissed your forehead, his lips lingering on your skin. When he pulled back, he rested his hand on your forearm and let his warmth seep into your skin. His thumb caressed the inside of your wrist, stroked over your racing pulse point.

“I’ll wait until you fall asleep,” he said.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smiled and let your index finger run down the length of his nose. “Does it hurt when you sleep on your left side?”

“Not really,” he replied. “Most of the time it’s just weird. It feels like my phantom limb hangs down through the bed. Like my arm is invisible and just goes through the bed.”

“What do you miss the most?”

He let out a long exhale. “Not much. Hugs. Proper hugs... I guess. Holding someone close and wrapping myself around them. Squeezing someone against my chest, making them feel protected. I used to be a great hugger. Now I give bro hugs.”

“I love bro hugs.”

His chuckled dissolved into a grin, and you both stayed quiet for a moment. He knew you weren’t asleep, he could hear you thinking. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

“I was wondering,” you started, then trailed off. “One day we’ll have to end this arrangement. Do you think it’ll end well, or is it going to be messy?”

It took him a minute to respond.

“Y’know, one of the things I learned in therapy was to stop worrying about things I can’t control,” he said. “That’s in the future, for future-you and future-me. I don’t know how it’ll end but I can promise you one thing: I’ll always be there for you. Arrangement or not.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out. “Right-now-me is a lucky bitch.”

You both laughed softly, then fell into a contemplative silence. There was something so peaceful about lying in bed with you, his hand loosely wrapped around your wrist, sharing warmth. He didn’t want to fall asleep.

For the next hour you talked about your families, your childhood, your friends, your likes and your dislikes. You told him about being an adopted child and living with other adopted kids. He could tell you were holding back when you talked about your siblings.

The only one you gushed about was Okoye. You were evasive when you talked about Scott and Wanda, though you did tell him that you had agreed to meet Wanda.

“What’s your favorite comfort food?”

“Breakfast for dinner.” Your voice was soft and small, he knew you were falling asleep. “When I was a kid, we had breakfast for dinner every Sunday night. We’d grab a bowl of our favourite cereal and eat together in front of the TV. I miss those days.” Your face was half buried in your pillow. “What’s yours?”

“Easy, pancakes.”

You smiled, your eyes were closed. “I like pancakes too.”

He watched you fall asleep and made a mental note to make some pancakes for breakfast. Your breathing evened out, and he waited a few more minutes to make sure you were asleep before he rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Bucky woke up to the sound of rain striking against the window. He opened his eyes and noted that the room seemed brighter than usual. A quick glance at the bedside clock told him that it was already a little past eight.

He stretched, sighing contentedly, and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with his closed fist. He tilted his head to look at you, still sleeping next to him. You lay on your stomach with your face turned away from him and your arms hugging your pillow. He adjusted the covers around your shoulders and stealthy slipped out of bed.

He went to the window and fixed the shades to make sure they didn’t let any light in. Then he made his way downstairs where he found Steve cracking eggs into a bowl. He was still wearing Bucky’s clothes, but his hair was a mess. Still he looked positively glowing.

“Mornin’,” Steve greeted with a wide smile.

“Hey, man.” Bucky took a seat at the kitchen island. “When did you get back?”

“About ten minutes ago. Long enough to notice that your angel hasn’t slept in her room last night. Wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Bucky said with a shrug. “She didn’t want to be alone.”

“So you slept with her.”

“We slept in the same bed. Nuance.”

“I’m gonna nuance your face with my fist if you don’t talk to her soon,” Steve exclaimed. “She’s not going to stay single forever, Buck. Things are gonna change, one way or another.”

“I know.”

Steve set the bowl aside and held the edge of the counter behind him. He sighed, exasperated. “If I were you, I’d talk to her before something happens and takes your choices away from you.”

Bucky pinched his lips together, hard, and looked down at the counter. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “I- I don’t know how to talk to her,” he said, feeling tears gather in his eyes. He met Steve’s eyes. “I physically can’t talk to her. It hurts. It’s stuck here-” he aggressively grabbed his stomach “-all the time. And it hurts, Steve, you have no idea how painful it is.”

“That’s love,” Steve replied, smiling at him like he, too, knew how it felt.

“Well, it fucking sucks.”

Bucky wiped the back of his hand against his runny nose. Steve stood there in silence.

“This book I’m writing,” Bucky said, breaking the silence. “It’s about her. Just her.” He paused. “I can’t back down now, my publicist’s too invested in our story. I know it’s an eccentric way of telling someone you fell in love with them but... writing’s easier than talking.”

Steve nodded, his eyes glued to the floor. “It’s like a long love letter.”

“Something like that.” Bucky climbed off the stool and rounded the kitchen island. “Now, I’m going to make breakfast. I promised her pancakes.”

Steve smiled and watched him move around the kitchen. “I hope it works out for you, Bucky. I really do.”

Part 10