do not compare yourself to others’ highlight reel. lives on social media are not as perfect as they seem. confession; you don’t see me posting my flaws for the world to see. I am oh so guilty for only posting what I think others want to read, aka a picture perfect life.
*mind blown realization* this is no good, very bad. *new decade resolution* to share the real me with all you poppyseeds. & I am starting early.
summary of my week: hot mess: //sinus infection, broke my favorite measuring cup while making dinner, car has an oil leak, & got a purple pen streak across my butt on my best long coat//. but beautiful: //christmas cookie party, gift exchange w/ the girls, & managed to have mental health me time every single day *success*//
poppyseeds, cheers to a new decade of being raw&real, beautiful&worthy.
I have been with Sean for 5 years now. That’s longer than high school, longer than the 4 worst years of my life. Longer than the time in which I made some of the worst mistakes of my life, and was a fraction of the person that I am today. That time seemed to last eternity, it seemed to take up so much more space than just 4 years, and so much more pain than just “high school”.
In those 4 years I chose the wrong people, gave too much of myself, hurt too many people, hurt myself over again, and made, what felt like, all of the wrong decisions.
But in 5 years, I have grown, I have healed, I have loved. That time is normally such a time of growth and change anyway, but I just felt this monumental weight of coming up on 5 years with the love of my life.
I know we are not just our mistakes, and we are more than the worst decision we made. But sometimes it’s nice to know that better things do come. It’s nice to know that the years I spent clawing and scratching and tearing at my own body and spirit, have brought me to something good and something whole. That every time I cried out that something had to change, it actually was. I actually was.
“Where do you see yourself in 5 years?”
“What’s your 5 year plan?”
To be better than I am today.
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 944
Warning(s): Strong Language
Clementine slid into Reece’s room slowly, making sure to shut the door as quietly and as quickly as possible. He needed sleep, and she knew how light he slept when he was at the clubhouse. Any bit of light seeping in from the hallway and the gig would be up. But despite her best efforts, when she turned around, Reece was sitting up and staring a hole right in the side of her head.
“Have fun?” he whispered.
She gasped loudly and clutched her chest. “What the hell, Puck? Were you waiting for me to get back?”
“You didn’t answer,” he pointed out.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked, coming closer in the dark.
“Answer me, Clem,” he demanded harshly. “Did you have fun?”
He made sure to accentuate each word to get his point across and Clem sighed heavily. She knew what that tone meant and she wasn’t in the mood. Whenever he got something in his head, no matter how fucked up, it was nearly impossible to remove without brute force, and Clementine was tired. Too tired for his shit. He always pulled this when they were around someone their age for more than five seconds. It got old very quickly, and after today’s events, she didn’t have the patience for his childish behavior.
“I’m going to take a shower,” she said finally. “I’ll check on you before I go to sleep.”
She turned to head back for the door and managed to turn the knob before he called out again. “Clem! Wait. Wait. I’m…”
“No, you fucking stop,” she interrupted. “I almost died today. Yes, I happened to be with another guy, but are you fucking serious right now? Is that really your biggest concern? In the last twenty-four hours both of us have been shot at. What is wrong with you?”
By the time she ended her sentence, she had somehow made it back to the bed and was inches from his face while he was cowering. Her anger was always like this. Instantaneous and fiery, but also not something she could control all that well. Puck had seen it more than most, and apparently, it didn’t make him any smarter.
“You’re right,” he admitted, hanging his head in defeat finally. “You’re right, baby. I just… get so jealous. I’m worried."
"Why?” she shouted. “What the hell is there to worry about? You have it fucking made, asshole! No matter what happens here,” she said, motioning to the space between them, “you’ll always be VP and I’ll always be President. We’re still a team. Even if we don’t end up together or whatever.”
“See!” he yelled back, “See, this is why I get nervous. You say shit like that. I want you. And I don’t wanna fucking share!”
“Who the hell would you share with? You’re the only one here within thirty years of my age. You know this!"
HIs chest heaved for a second before he whispered again. "I’m scared."
Her anger dissipated like water vapor as she finally noticed the tears welling in his eyes when he said it. She knew what it took for him to be vulnerable, even with her. She sat down on the edge of the bed softly and put a hand on his cheek.
"You have nothing to be scared of. I love you. Nobody else, okay? One day with somebody else isn’t gonna change that. Two maybe, but not one,” she teased, punctuating it with a wink.
“Oh, you’re hilarious,” he retorted, but she could hear the smile in his voice again.
“Seriously, everything is fine. As long as you pull your head outta your ass.”
“Do I have to?” he whined.
“Only if you wanna marry me,” she offered, standing back up. “But I am going to take a shower now, so try not to get shot again in the next half an hour or so.”
“You could, uh, always take a shower in here,” he answered, motioning toward his bathroom with his head. “And I could join you.”
“Oh, you think you got it like that, huh? I don’t know. You did just yell at me.”
She put her hand on her hip for emphasis as she stared down at him on the bed. He swung his legs off the side and held out his hand for her to take. She hesitated for the briefest of seconds, wanting to make him wait. He’d earned that, at least. And dragging it out with Puck was something she immensely enjoyed.
When she finally did take his hand, she helped him up and pulled him toward the bathroom slowly, stopping long enough to pull him into her and kiss him deeply. When they separated, the look in his eyes, even in the darkness, was impossible to ignore, even if she’d wanted to.
She took her time removing his shirt, being very careful with the bandage that covered most of his shoulder. She hated seeing him like this, but in their line of business, it wasn’t all that uncommon either. She might not say it as often as she should, but seeing him like that made her realize how much she cared about him. And it went deeper than any other relationship she had. Puck was the only person on Earth who knew her like that, and to think she could lose it was unbearable.
He let go of her just long enough to reach over and turn on the water before putting his hands back on her hips. He kissed a trail down her neck to her collarbone as she threw her head back, concentrating on the way he felt wrapped around her.
[next - coming soon]
She cried tear’s of joy because I’m getting better. I’m so happy.
Frasier - S10E17
Christmas is coming
Do you already have the party planned?
St. Louis ain’t on that bullshit.
i’m in love i’m in love 💐
i’m in love i’m in love 🌼
i’m in love i’m in love 🌹
i’m in love i’m in love 🌻
i’m in love i’m in love 🌸