#when i tried to gift my neighbors with some cookies only one person accepted

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 7: wrapping presents

Character can’t wrap gifts to save their life. Character B is their neighbor and can help,, percabeth

Percy should have known what went into being a single dad. He thought he did well enough, all things considered. By no means was he perfect, but he loves his daughter more than anything, and he always does his best.

Still, he did not ever thing that his biggest struggle as a parent would be wrapping presents for Christmas.

The pile of gifts he bought for his daughter sit in front of him, staring right into his soul. It’s embarrassing, because in his twenty-six years of life, he really hadn’t learned to wrap a present. It’s not like it’s a difficult concept — he is just severely incapable of making anything look pretty with wrapping paper.

Percy sighs and leans back, defeated. He tosses the tape dispenser recklessly in front of himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly. When he looks at the clock, he is both confused and personally offended that it could possibly be three in the morning on Christmas and he still has nothing done. It’s no one’s fault but his own, because he had time to get it done but decided to wait until approximately three hours before he knew his kid would be awake to attempt and fail miserably at wrapping presents.

He considers just giving up and not wrapping them at all — it’s not like she would really care — but then he remembers the pure excitement he would get as a child while peeling the paper off the presents, and he can’t bear to take that away from her.

He tries to think of a solution, but nothing comes to mind. He’s ready to just accept that he’s screwed up, but then it comes like a whisper in the back of his mind. He knows for a fact that his neighbor is a goddess at wrapping presents because he saw her hauling them in from the car earlier for her own daughter. He tries to tell himself to absolutely not wake her up at three in the morning, but the thought of sitting here struggling any longer makes him cave, and he finds himself standing on her porch minutes later in the freezing New York air.

He hesitates, then knocks lightly. It feels like forever awaiting a response, and he’s just about to give up and turn around when he hears the lock click open, and he is met with the sight of his neighbor looking thoroughly concerned.

“It’s three in the morning,” is the first thing she says.

Percy can’t help but stare at her for a good second. He doesn’t think they’ve talked more than once or twice since she moved in a few years ago, but maybe they should have because then maybe he would’ve known how pretty she actually was. Even on the brink of sleep, she managed to look put-together in her plain black leggings and oversized knitted sweater. Her hair was loose down her back, falling in cute ruffled ringlets, and he wants to reach out to smooth them down like he’s always done for his daughter.

Percy shifts nervously. “I know. I just – there’s an emergency?”

Annabeth blinks. Her hand is resting on the door handle like she’s about to slam it shut at any second. “Is everything okay?”

“No, yeah, everything’s fine.”

“Okay…” She looks around behind him, peering into the darkness like she expects there to be a hidden camera crew. “Are you going to tell me what the emergency is, or…?”

“You’re going to think it’s stupid.”

“You’re standing on my porch in the middle of the night on Christmas. I already think this is stupid.”

Percy scratches his neck, a heat slowly rising to his cheeks. “I got my daughter a ton of presents. And I also have a ton of wrapping paper. I just can’t seem to put two and two together and actually wrap the presents.”

“You haven’t wrapped any presents?”

“No.”

Annabeth looks thoroughly appalled by his statement. He can’t be too surprised. From the few times they have interacted, he’s always had the impression that she has her shit together. It’s part of the thing that’s always held him at a distance from her. He hated the way thinking of her felt.

Right now, he decides, he hates this feeling of uselessness even more.

“Can you help me wrap presents?”

Annabeth chokes on a laugh, wrapping her arms around herself. “What?”

“I really need help wrapping presents. Like, it’s bad. My living room is a mess, and I’m pretty sure my daughter is going to be awake in less than three hours.

“Hold on,” she says, holding up a hand. She looks more amused than anything now, which brings his nerves down. “You mean to tell me that you left your three-year-old daughter home alone so that you can come to my house at three in the morning on Christmas to ask for help wrapping presents?”

“Yes.”

“Oh my god, Percy.”

“Listen.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Just be happy I didn’t show up with cookies and milk,” he says.

“The only thing that would make this better is if you did bring cookies and milk,” she replies.

Percy runs his fingers through his hair. “Can you help me or not?”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s a subtle smile splayed on her face. “Give me a minute.”

She goes back inside for a moment, and Percy just stands there waiting for her until she reappears. When she does, she’s holding a pack of stickers that he recognizes as those fancy Christmas labels.

“Assuming you don’t have any of these?” she asks, stepping past him.

“Now you’re just insulting me,” he says playfully, following her back along the sidewalk to his house. He opens his front door for her to step inside, and she does so for what she thinks is the first time.

Annabeth stops at the sight of his living room. “What happened!?”

“Wrapping paper and I are not friends.”

“I can see that,” she comments, setting her stuff down in the center of the room. She turns towards him while reaching up to tie her hair in a low bun. She cracks her knuckles dramatically, and she says, “Let’s get to work.”

Percy tries to help at first, but at some point, she swats his hand after using almost an entire roll of wrapping paper on just one present. He ends up sitting next to her as moral support, simply commenting on everything his delirious mind has to offer.

She looks… like a princess, is the best that Percy can come up with. She’s his own personal superhero, saving his ass on Christmas day, and she looks great doing it too. So warm and cute and small, the perfect size for holding in his arms, for cuddling, and kissing, and — what was he saying?

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” he asks.

“No!” She snatches away the scissors, waving them in his face. “I know you said you were bad at wrapping presents, but this is just…”

Percy smiles and leans his weight back on his hands. “Can I at least get you something to drink?”

“Coffee would be great.”

“Coming right up,” he says, getting to his feet. “Anything specific?”

“Whatever’s fine,” she says.

From the kitchen, he can see her working. She’s sprawled out on the floor taping a piece of wrapping paper with snowflakes on it onto a pink scooter. She looks so concentrated, her tongue sticking out through her lips as she focuses, and he is compelled to kiss away the scrunch on her forehead. It’s weird, because he’s never had a true conversation with her, but he finds himself wishing that he had sooner.

The coffee finishes brewing, and he brings it back to her side, holding it in front of her face. She hums in appreciation, dropping what’s in her hands to grasp the sides of the mug. As she takes a sip, she sighs and gives him a soft grin.

“Nothing like the taste of coffee in the middle of the night,” she says, setting it down. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” And as he sits down next to her again, he notices that the presents are all nearly wrapped. “This means a lot to me, Annabeth. I don’t know what else I would have done.”

“Don’t worry about it. Wrapping presents is my passion.”

He smirks. “So you’re that type of mom.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Jackson?” She raises a brow. “I’d like to remind you that that type of mom is currently doing your parenting for you.”

“It’s not a bad thing!” he insists. “It’s cute that you like wrapping presents.”

“Wrapping presents is not cute. It is a serious competitive sport. Cutthroat competition.”

“See? Cute.”

Annabeth laughs, shoving his knee with her socked foot. She takes the mug of coffee back in her hands and takes a long sip. “Look who’s talking.”

“Oh?” he teases. “I’m cute?”

“Sure,” she says, shrugging and nodding towards a small barbie box. “How could I not find it adorable that you are physically incapable of wrapping a square box?”

“So by cute, you mean easy to bully?” he asks, sniffing.

“Yeah, but you’re also just really cute in general.”

“How nice of you,” he says sarcastically.

“I’m serious, though. How have we never had a conversation before?”

“Because you’re you and I’m me.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“It means that you know what you’re doing, and I don’t.”

She laughs in his face. “I do not know what I’m doing in the slightest.”

“At least you can wrap presents.”

“You just have to practice,” she says. “Come here. I’ll help you do the last one.”

As Percy slides in next to her, she puts the scissors into his hands and scoots in even closer. He can feel her body heat radiating against his chest as she leans into him. She points out where for him to cut, and he follows her directions. He’s distracted by the way she smells. It’s dizzying, feeling her those close. She guides his hands with the paper, carefully tucking the paper into perfect creases, taping the wrapping taught.

It’s hands-down the best present he’s ever wrapped, though it was still Annabeth doing most of the work.

“There you go,” she says, smiling. “And now you know how to wrap a present.”

Instead of responding, he looks around the room. The sun is just beginning to rise in the skyline, the black space around them hinting at dawn. When he looks at the time, he realizes that it’s a little bit past six. It doesn’t feel like that much time has passed, but somehow it has.

Annabeth helps him clean up quickly and shove the presents underneath the tree. She comments on a few of the homemade ornaments, mentioning how much she loves the ones with the little handprints made with patchy glitter.

She’s looking at the tree, but Percy, he notices, is looking right at her, and he can’t bring himself to look away. She turns around again, shoots him a smile, and makes her way to the door. Percy follows her to walk her out. As he opens the door, she steps outside, and with the snowy background, he’s never seen a more perfect picture.

“Thank you so much,” he says. “I really do appreciate it.”

“Of course. It was surprisingly fun.” They stare at each other, unsure of what they’re supposed to say next, but then she says, “I should get back. She’s going to be waking up soon.”

“Was she home alone?”

Annabeth shakes her head, biting her lip in a smile. “A friend was home.”

Percy nods, and then he thinks he wants to see her again. “Do you have anything to do later today? After opening presents and stuff?”

She pretends to think, a subtle glow to her skin. “I can’t say that I do.”

“You’re welcome to come over,” he offers. “The girls could play together, and you could try my Christmas cookies.”

“I hope they’re better than your wrapping,” she teases.

“You’ll have to come over and find out.”

“Hm. I guess I will.” Annabeth steps away but seems to think better of it as she moves closer again. She smiles at him, lifts onto her toes, and kisses him once. It’s short and sweet but leaves him wanting to pull her closer to him when she pulls away. She doesn’t say anything as she turns on her heel back to her house, leaving Percy melting in a puddle behind her.

Maybe, he thinks, it was a good thing that he didn’t know how to wrap presents. And if she was going to make him learn anyways, which he quickly learns she would, well…

Percy certainly doesn’t mind one bit.

#percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #pjo #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #my writing

[krisanderwrites]

Malachite and Sparrow 02

My second summer there was a mix up in the paperwork and I had to vacate the dorms for two weeks until it was sorted out. None of my classmates lived close enough to make couch surfing a viable option, so I eventually swallowed my apprehension and called my mother. Although I attempted to keep the conversation short, she was elated to hear that I would be coming home this year. When I finally hung up, I knew that there was no way Malachite had not overheard my given name. Of course she was considerate enough to not mention it.

The long trip home was peppered with anxiety attacks and countless worries. By the time I finally arrived in the airport, I was exhausted. Thankfully that gave me the excuse to ignore the way my parents did not recognize me until after a second glance. They shuffled me into the car, berating my tardiness and how it was messing with my sister's schedule since she had an important meeting. Everything felt dull and far away, much worse than my depression ever was while at college.

I took it easy, as much as someone going to Elsewhere University can on break. Unable to break the habit of watching every word I uttered, I found solace in furthering my research online and at the local library. I cleaned out my old room, throwing away most of the things I had no use for anymore. I visited my great-aunt Hazel in her nursing home. When she pressed a plastic bag full of small boxes into my hands, I gave her a strange look.

"For exchanges," she said, smiling. Opening one, I found a kitschy set of matching topaz earrings and necklace. Realizing the gift, I gave a small gasp. She would not accept me doing anything for her in exchange, simply saying that she had no use for all of them anyway. I still have no clue how she knew about the Gentry. However, she had certainly given me ideas.

I began to talk to my sister and mother, telling them about Malachite's love of jewelry of all kinds- how she even made her own on occasion. In response, they gave me all of their old things that they no longer wanted to pass along to her. A few of my cousins even dropped off their old mismatched earrings and pendants and charm bracelets. I went to the nursery and picked up seeds of plants I had not been able to get my hands on while on campus. In the back of my closet I found my old fighting gear and packed it into an old gym bag my brother was going to throw out.

To make sure there were no debts I mowed lawns, weeded gardens, cleaned out gutters, scrubbed bathrooms, and bathed dogs. Each present got a chore in payment. Money exchanged hands as well, but I tried to reserve as much of that as possible for more important things than trinkets to trade. In the end I left with two more bags than I had come back with, full of all sorts of helpful things. I think somehow I knew even then that I was never really coming back.

"You know... you really have changed," my mother remarked as she dropped me off at the airport.

My mouth was dry, "Yeah, I think I have too."

"I'm not sure it is for the better," she snidely added.

"Well, I do," I shrugged and grabbed the last bag out of the trunk.

She seemed uneasy, "I suppose this is goodbye then."

"Yep," I said.

"Will you at least call?" she asked.

"Probably not," I answered, not even attempting to stretch the truth. "I think we both have very different ideas about who I am, and it would probably just hurt more."

There were tears in her eyes when she laughed, "You really have changed. I will wish you luck, then. Don't worry about your father; he already knows. He's considered you dead for at least six months now."

"That does explain the lack of conversation," I had quipped. "Well, I have to somehow get through security with all this."

I walked away without looking back even once. Somehow it felt like I was shedding my old skin. I checked my bags and got onto the plane with no troubles. Smooth sailing for the Captain. The feeling of overall sluggishness left upon entering campus again. Dropped off in front of the dorm building with my bags, I was delighted to see a greeting party of crows waiting for me. They were rewarded with the best sugar cookies my hometown had to offer. Overall it felt more like coming home than visiting my family ever had.

        *        *        *        *

Settling back down into a dorm room felt strange knowing that it was going to be just me on my own again. I planted all the seeds I had bought in trays that I placed upon the windowsill. I sorted through all the jewelry I had amassed and threw away the unnecessary packaging; it still filled most of a duffel bag. My old fighting gear was relegated to the back of yet another closet; I could not bear to throw it away but for now it served no purpose. Perhaps I could find a new group to practice with on campus later. I took a part-time job at a local veterinary clinic to help expand my knowledge and experience.

To be truthful, everything was just a distraction until Malachite returned. Without her nearby I felt the pull of the Else at my veins. Sometimes I would stare out at the forest with a longing- an urge- to simply walk among the trees and then keep walking. Realistically I knew that this was a terrible idea, but it was true all the same. The Fair Folk were more numerous on campus as autumn drew closer, all eagerly anticipating the return of the students as much as I was.

With no small amount of glee, I showed off my acquisitions to Malachite. She stared, wide-eyed, and asked what in the world I was planning on doing with all of that jewelry. I laughed her off, claiming that I was just going to save it all for a rainy day. It was mostly true. (I was something of a zombie-survival plan person anyway.) I did not tell her that my intuition said that there were storms coming.

Still, things continued on much as normal for quite some time, if perhaps a bit busier. I gave presents to Jimothy- as many beads as my cousins had managed to trade for me doing their chores. Clients at the veterinary clinic occasionally brought me gifts for helping to care for their animals, which I in turn gifted to fae or other students. My study group commandeered a room in the library where the time distortion was not too terrible. I set a broken wing for one crow and stemmed the bleeding broken beak of another.

Sometimes I attended parties just to escort people back to their dorms safely. Ever curious, I worked endlessly on ideas and inventions that I never intended to see the light of day. After all, knowledge of how to heal and soothe comes only after knowledge of how to hurt and break. The contraptions piled in my closet next to my unused fighting gear.

It took some time for me to realize that Malachite had plans of her own.

By helping others and trading in offerings of homemade bread or sweets for crystals and gemstones, she had amassed quite a literal treasure trove. Taking these precious finds, she then created jewelry from them. Homemade trinkets are always worth more to the fae than ones that you buy in a store. As I watched her collection grow, I suddenly understood her concerns with my own hoard.

Then one day I walked in during a break from classes and realized something had happened. Malachite was burning sage in the room which showed evidence of a recent bout of furious cleaning. When pressed, she simply said that the salt lines had been worn away over time and needed replacing. The fearful glances to the corner of the room, however, spoke a different story.

I decided that though my hands were often burned with silver nitrate (so useful in stopping small bleeds), perhaps having the Sight was something I should keep around more often. Just in case. I began wearing a mood ring on my middle finger. It immediately turned to black and then remained that color whenever I wore it. I tried not to feel anxious about this and failed miserably.

        *        *        *        *

Right at midterms there was a brief flurry of activity before things settled down again. Hardly anyone got taken over midterms that year, as there were several days that were designated safe due to the school fair. Then there was a night where all the signs were there for A Hunt. There was a new moon and strange yelling that could be mistaken for baying. Everyone kept to their dorm rooms and locked the entrances.

What came knocking at our door was our new RA, who was a nice enough woman studying business and law.

"Captain," she had said.

I had tilted my head and informed her that was not my official nickname.

"No," she laughed, "but it suits you well. You're already rather well known as a Knight." Something about that title rang true in my bones and I had to suppress a shiver as she continued, "Anyway, there is a bit of a situation. They are asking for you to come out and see to one of their hounds."

"What they?" Malachite had demanded.

"You know, the Fair Folk," she explained.

"Absolutely not."

Blinking, we both turned to the side. Malachite pushed forward to stand in the doorway, hands on her hips.

"I'm not letting Sparrow take one step outside on a night of A Hunt. Even if it were not suicide, the chances of being stolen are far too great."

I laughed, "All my new surgical tools are made of steel. I doubt any of Them would want me."

Despite her protests, we both ended up following the RA to the threshold of the dorm hall. Standing there was a perfectly respectable attempt at a humanoid form, albeit with an extra limb or two. At least they were trying. The hound itself was, as typical, an eldritch abomination that could possibly be construed as canine if you were on LSD and also only had ever known dogs from the story of The Hound of the Baskervilles. However, the long, hungry glances the Good Neighbor kept sending towards Malachite were disconcerting.

"I will heal, for that is what is right," I offered readily, "but should you attempt to take or harm my companions, I will fight, as that is also right. Do we have an understanding here?"

The hissing reply was not pleased-sounding, but not being attacked outright was a good sign. When finally it nodded petulantly, I stepped forward to the heaving mass on the grass and kneeled down. Luckily it turned out to be a small favor. The monster had thorns in its hide from a hawthorn tree dipped in iron. Snarling at the wicked items, I palmed them with the thought to destroy it later by fire. A small salve applied to the wounded areas and the Hunt was once again ready to leave.

"Freely given," I said as they vanished into the mists.

"You're foolish," noted the RA. "You should have asked for something."

"Asking for payment is more foolish than being a good person," I replied. "All my aid is freely given, and I won't charge the Gentry any more than the crows. I am a healer, after all."

"Talk softly, treat others kindly, and carry a big damn stick," supplied Malachite.

"Exactly," I smiled as I closed my fist around the iron-tipped thorns.

        *        *        *        *

The hungry eyes of the Gentry were long forgotten as time slipped past. There was too much to do and too many who needed aiding for paranoia to set in fully. It did not catch my attention at the time that my plants were starting to grow a little too well or my newly acquired pet fish seemed more colorful than was natural. I did not notice when I began to avoid eating my food with excess salt.

No, my first sign that something was terribly wrong was an itching, sore rash across the back of my neck.

It took some time, but eventually we figured out the trusty iron chain that our talisman rested upon was causing the problem. For a few days, neither of us spoke about it. Suddenly developing an allergy to iron was greatly concerning. And telling. We both knew what it meant, despite trying to ignore it.

Slowly, things began to change. The salt lines in the doorways and windows became complex symbols and runes. The gemstone satchels somehow migrated away from my side of the room. I began to take my coffee with creamer and sugar, despite always having had it black before.

"Fae-touched," someone told us when they noted me sitting on the grass to avoid the iron bench. "Not quite a Changeling, but not entirely human either. You've gained a lot a favor with the Gentry. Or a lot of ire, I suppose."

"Don't listen to her," another student rolled their eyes. "Everyone knows Captain Sparrow's a knight and a healer. The Good Neighbors like you just where you are."

It explained a little, we supposed. My family was mixed, but both sides had come from areas steeped in tales of the Fair Folk. Those with links to the old countries always were a little more at risk. So we simply decided to take more care and discuss our options. And we agreed. Neither of us would leave for the Else without the other. We would remain together through thick and thin.

Thus our third year at Elsewhere University ended with us just as close as before.

#elsewhere university #elsewhere student #malachite and sparrow

[scnnyfm-old]

chicago’s very own sunshine ‘sunny’ carmichael has been spotted on madison avenue driving a bmw 3 series , welcome ! your resemblance to dua lipa is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty-third birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re sensitive , but being altrustic might help you . i think being a cancer explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be the scent of bubblegum, an abundance of house plants, and freshly baked cookies . ( cis female + she/her ) 

helloooooo ghouls, goblins, and everything in between. it’s ya girl aneesa or whatever fun nickname you wanna call me, and this is my child sunny! you can reach me via ims or catch me on discord at 𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐚 🦋☀#5408

* && 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐬

full name — sunshine carhmichael

nicknames — sunny (preferred name actually)

birthday — july 15

height  — 5′ 8″

age  — twenty-three (23)

pronouns — she/her/hers

occupation(s) — singer, record executive, fashion/cosmetics brand ceo, fashion designer, reality show star, & model

languages spoken — english (barely)

orientation — bisexual

* && 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑶𝑹𝒀 𝑺𝑶 𝑭𝑨𝑹...

sunshine hawthorne grew up in the foster care system, according to the letter her mother left her, she was just a teenager with strict religious parents who threw her out the minute they learned of her pregnancy, and sunshine’s father was nowhere to be seen, and giving sunshine up was easier than living on the streets trying to fend for herself and a child

SEXUAL & PSYCHICAL ABUSE TW growing up in the foster care system was a lot, she bounced from family to family, and the things that happened were unspeakable. sometimes the abuse was physical, emotional, or sexual and it just caused a lot of deep personal trauma for herself that was never resolved

this caused her to become reserved, stuck up for the underdog even if it was at her own expense, just intrinsically unselfish, has always been the mom friend to a fault

she was 10 when she got adopted into an extremely wealthy family, like i’m talking top ten wealthiest families in the states, and suddenly sunny hawthorne became sunny carmichael 

so let’s take a minute to talk about the carmichael’s 

they originate from old money, i’m talking so far back it’s unclear whether or not the money they have was obtained legally or not, this caused her parents to be a little reckless w their spending

her father: sebastian carmichael is the one who inherited the wealth from his father, who inherited it from his father, and the cycle continues, he was addicted to gambling add that to the fact that he was a serial cheater and you have an extremely poor father figure

ALCOHOL & DRUGS TW her mother: davina carmichael was a drug dependent alcoholic who spent all of husband’s money to makeup for the fact that he was cheating on her, started her own billion dollar company from scratch, plans on ‘giving it’ to sunny

the carmichaels were very problematic and all of their scandals were extremely public, in fact the only reason they adopted sunny in the first place was so that they could appear more well-rounded then they were

after that would come give siblings, and it fell upon sunny to take care of all of them, so from a young age she acted extremely mature, learned to fend for herself, and still managed to have a soul flourishing with tender spots

sunny was a gifted kid, not academically, she struggled A LOT, she had trouble paying attention, couldn’t read as well as the other kids. she got teased a lot for being ‘dumb’ and honestly hated it, it’s one of her biggest insecurities to this day. but what she lacked academically she made up for artistically, she was musically inclined, and it was clear that she loved to draw (apparent from all the doodles in the margins of her notebooks)

her family capitalized on this as if she were some sideshow attraction, come see our daughter! look how good she is at painting and doodling! pay us money! and although it made her feel like some trophy the could polish and show off, and this messed up sunshine even more because she knew deep down they didn’t love her

in high school she was the bubbly ditzy popular girl, chewed on enough bubblegum to finance a new mercedes, and just was that stereotypical girl ripped straight out of an early 00′s movie

was on the cheerleading team because again i tell you she was just living her best teen life! having an amazing time! vibing!

although her parents could give her anything they wanted and were decent enough to pay the bills for her and her siblings, she wanted to provide for herself, not have to depend on her parents for anything

she got into modeling! and although t took her a while to find her footing eventually she did, and it was a great time! but eventually parents got jealous and made her quit modeling altogether, because god forbid that she get more attention than they did

eventually (and to everyone’s surprise lmao) she went to college, and somehow got accepted into an ivy league....for art! not as surprising, but her family lied and said she went to business school bc of course they did

she went to harvard and majored in visual arts, she got her degree, and got her her happy ass out of there, mostly stayed focused on her studies, occasional party here and there

she was extremely worried about her siblings and she immediately went back home to them, surprisingly they were in one piece, not surprisingly they were being raised by nannies

she applied her visual arts degree and started designing clothes, then modeling said clothes, because although her parents had enough money to get her company off the ground, she wanted to do it by herself

and she did! finally bringing a decent name to the carmichael family!

was a guest judge on a bunch of modeling/runway shows, occasionally starred in her family’s reality tv show against her will, and was so dynamic she would be offered her own, and of course she jumped at the opportunity! 

her mother tried handing off the company to her, and she declined! instead she opened up her own company selling her designs and was very hands on in learned to make cosmetics, and her company has been doing extremely well so far, it’s set to surpass her family’s company in a couple of years

as if she didn’t have enough on her plate she wanted to pursue her singing career, ended up having a whirlwind romance w a singer that she collaborated with, they were pretty serious and talked about being engaged, but eventually things fizzled out

said romance inspired a lot of her music, and encouraged her to keep going with her music career, she even worked her way up to the title of executive of their label, she’s on top of the world

she’s come a long way from the shy girl from foster care who afraid of her own shadow, but she’s lost none of her softness!

still extremely charitable and even started multiple charities all ranging from helping fund the foster care system to providing more funding for no kill shelters (she’s a vegan!) all of her charities are nation wide and oh boy does she have a lot on her plate

has....literally no time for anything else....still tries to prove to herself that she’s definitely not stressed and has so much free time! sdflksj tries to party and have fun, but mostly craves staying inside and takes baths with scented candles and just watches the same romcom over and over again 

* && 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭

....okay so maybe it’s not completely believable that she got into an ivy league with her own merit, after all she’s not the sharpest tool in the shed and spoiler alert she didn’t

her parents bribed an admissions counselor to let their daughter in their visual arts program, they even donated enough money to renovate the art museum 

all of this happened without sunny’s knowledge and she continues to live in blissful ignorance about the whole thing

* && 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

zodiac — cancer rising, cancer sun, & scorpio moon

alignment — lawful good

mbti — infp-t

enneagram — type 2 ( the helper )

temperament — phlegmatic

house — hufflepuff

positive traits — ( + ) altruistic , committed , conceptual , curious , courteous , determined , generous , humble , inventive , imaginative , loyal , loving , organized , passionate , playful , reliable , selfless , supportive , thoughtful , and trustworthy

negative traits — ( - ) anxious , cautious , compulsive , critical , disorganized , dogmatic ,, hyperactive , indifferent , insecure , impulsive , logical , oblivious , pedantic , protective , and resilient

* && 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

please don’t feel limited by this list because i have a brain the size of a walnut and this is all i can think of these are almost all ripped off ryker’s intro bc i’m not creative

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑭𝑨𝑴𝑰𝑳𝑰𝑨𝑳....

family friends  maternal or paternal cousins

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪...

past crush  current crush  flirtationship except she prolly doesn’t realize bc head empty  unrequited love ( on either side )  fwbs  will they? won’t they?  someone her friends are trying to set her up with  forbidden love of some kind idk maybe not  exes on good terms  exes on bad terms  first love high school or college romances  summer romance  childhood crush friends to lovers  pr relationship somebody who leads her on 

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪...

BEST FRIEND / ROOMMATE PLOT BASED ON NEW GIRL OR FRIENDS PLS I WILL GIVE YOU MY EVERYTHING  best friends  confidants  ride or die sibling like friends  close friends  neighbors??  enemies to friends  reunited childhood friends drunk / party friends  someone she’s a good influence on  bad influence  unlikely friends  secret friends, aka friends who do not hang around in the public eye as their family or friends may not get along  #married....just they argue and love each other like a married couple

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎ 𝑵𝑬𝑮𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑽𝑬...

enemies  former best friends  frenemies

#abuse tw #drugs tw #alcohol tw #wealthyhq:intro #I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE #please love me #this took so long #for no reason

[daisyxbuckley]

Christmas is my FAVORITE holiday, besides Halloween of course. So when I saw that @galaxy-mindsxx had this beautiful prompt list I knew that I needed to participate. So Lex’s 25 Days of Prompts is open! From December 1st to December 25th I will be posting prompts from this list with different fandoms. If you would like to see one written then please message and tell me! Again thank you so much to Faith for letting me use your list.

If you’re unsure about a fandom, just ask! 

*******************************************************************************************

1. Person A and Person B wanted to make a gingerbread house, except Person B keeps eating all the candy they both bought and Person A debates over whether or not they should buy more or just finish eating the gingerbread.

2. Person A is having a snowball fight with their friend/sibling and they accidentally hit Person B with a snowball instead. The main problem is that the snowball had a lot of ice in it and now Person A and B are at the hospital.

3. Person A and Person B got drunk at a mutuals Christmas party and they both thought it would be funny to “set up” everyone they thought looked cute together by moving the mistletoe around, except now everyone’s done it to them.

4. Person A watches their mutual friends teach Person B how to skate, to which they’re reminded of a baby deer. It’s from this where Person A realizes they may just be a little in love with Person B.

5. Person B catches Person A singing their favourite Christmas song and now Person B keeps trying to start a duet of “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” with A everywhere they go.

6. Person A works at one of the hot chocolate booths on Main Street for the towns/city’s Christmas Parade and they’re rather concerned for the fact that Person B has come up for their third cup of hot chocolate in the past half hour.

7. Person B’s parents wanted to host a Holiday Party but they left it up to B to decorate so they call Person A for help because B doesn’t even know how much garland is supposed to go on a Christmas tree.

8. Person A and B always argue, but they’re at a good friends Christmas party and they have to remain somewhat civil and—is that mistletoe???

9. Person A and B’s mutual friends organized a Secret Santa and Person B suspiciously got Person A. Their friends help B pick the perfect gift.

10. Person A and Person B (a mysterious stranger who looks incredibly sad and alone) are stuck in a snowed-in airport with both of their flights delayed.

11. Person A invited Person B over to watch Christmas movies ‘cause it’s officially socially acceptable to. Miraculously however, it’s the first snowfall of the year, and Person B can’t stop staring at their best friend.

12. Person A and B’s friends are all going to a ski lodge for the week. All is good and fun until everyone realizes that they all have to share rooms, and somehow, A and B got paired together.

13. They just released the new Christmas Rentals at Family Video and Steve is in charge of stocking them. But after seeing you outside trying to catch snowflakes on your tongue he accidentally knocks over a shelf. The stores a mess, but Steve only cares about talking to you. (Specific to Steve ‘cause I felt this was too cute of an idea to not do.)

14. Person B gets drunk and won’t stop singing Christmas songs at the top of your lungs. Luckily, Person A thinks they’re cute.

15. Person A and B’s friends take them sledding and since the two of them are both competitive af, they challenge each other to a sled-race.

16. Person A and Person B decide to bake Christmas cookies and they kind of have a “moment”. Person A gets nervous and throws flour at B’s face, triggering a food fight.

17. Person B’s best friend convinced them to write a letter to “Santa” of what they wanted for Christmas. Except, Person A now has B’s letter and…Person A is Person B’s greatest wish.

18. Person A invited Person B to help them decorate their tree and B’s shocked that A has this many ornaments.

19. Person A works as an elf for the town’s/city’s yearly out-door “North Pole Festival” and Person B keep smiling at A for a reason unknown to them.

20. Person A teaches Person B how to wrap presents. Correction: A teaches B how to wrap presents properly.

21. Person A and B attend their friends Christmas Party and the way B is looking at A makes them feel things.

22. It’s Person A and B’s first Christmas as a married couple, and Person A has a special surprise for B.

23. It’s Christmas Eve and Person A’s car breaks down in the middle of a snowstorm. Luckily, they’re practically in front of their best friends house/apartment. A decides to stay there the night and the two of them watch Christmas Specials all night.

24. Person A and B go Christmas tree hunting together. It’s fun, but extremely frustrating because Person B has their eyes on the biggest tree in the lot which A guarantees will not fit in their apartment. (Just imagine that scene in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.)

25. This Christmas marks Person A and B’s fourth anniversary of being together. At their Christmas Party, B plans on giving A a gift that they hope A will say yes to.

26. No one will take Person A to drive around and look at the Christmas light displays, so A asks Person B to come with. A spends the whole time looking at the displays, but Person B seems to be focused on something else entirely.

27. Person A brings Person B home for the holidays and B is panicking because they’re trying to make the best impression.

28. It’s a snow day, so out of boredom Person A and B decide to play a joking game of making the other blush/speechless with Christmas pick-up lines. Needless to say however, neither of them are joking.

29. Person B isn’t a huge fan of Christmas because they always end up being left alone. So, Person A goes all out to make sure this Christmas is the best.

30. Person A and B are neighbors and throughout the past week, every day, Person B asks if they can “borrow” Person A’s sugar; and A can’t tell if B is simply making a shit ton of cookies, or if they like A.

31. Person A needs a date to their family’s Christmas Dinner and Person B just happens to be at the right place, at the right time.

32. Person B tries to bake Person A’s favorite Christmas cookies, except B calls A over because B burnt them all and they don’t know what to do.

33. (This one is Steve specific.) It’s the first year that Hawkins High is trying out Candy Grams. You’ve gotten a few from your friends, however it’s the excessive amount of candy canes from a “Secret Santa” that truly confuses you.

34. Person A and B are hanging out when the power suddenly goes out and they’ve long since finished their hot-chocolates and they’re both cold so Person A offers to cuddle. For warmth. Obviously.

35. Person A and B are helping decorate their work place. Except the two of them get a little too carried away with the tinsel.

36. (Steve specific, again.) Steve and Robin work another job during the holidays to earn a little extra money. It sucks though because wrapping presents isn’t fun. Until you burst into the store on Christmas Eve with bags full of presents that need wrapping. Steve thinks you’re cute, though, so he doesn’t quite mind.

37. A friend of Person A’s family is having a Christmas wedding. Person A isn’t that interested until they spot a Groomsman (Person B) who has great hair and won’t stop drunkenly singing Christmas songs at the after party.

38. Person B finds Person A’s secret stash of Christmas presents. A lot of them are for B, and A can certainly tell Person B is having a hard time trying not to take a peek.

39. Person A and B’s friends arrange a get together with them at their local diner. Except, the two of them are there before them, and there’s a huge snowstorm that traps A and B and a few patrons in and so Person A and Person B have to try and amuse themselves.

40. Person A and B get slightly tipsy off the eggnog while they’re decorating A’s tree and some sober thoughts are shared through drunken words.

41. Person A and B are best friends who just happen to be neighbors. There’s a house decorating contest going on in their neighborhood, and the pair are determined to beat each other.

42. Sword-fighting is fun with candy canes…until someone’s gets stabbed in the arm.

43. It’s Christmas Eve, and as you read “The Night Before Christmas” to the party, Steve internally laments on how grateful he is to have you. (Steve specific.)

44. Person A and Person B’s families have been friends forever. A would always go to B’s house for Christmas Eve but the one time A and B got into a huge fight and thus the tradition stopped. Now, the tradition is being started up again and holy shit, when did Person B get hot?

45. Person A’s best friend rigged the Secret Santa so now they have to get B a present. The worse part? Person A has a huge crush on Person B.

46. Person A and B work as elves at “Santa’s Workshop” in the mall. It’s Christmas Eve and instead of cleaning up, A and B play around with the wrapping paper and bows.

47. It’s Person A’s best friends yearly Christmas Party and she just drunkenly dared A to kiss the cute, mystery stranger under the mistletoe by the end of the night. And Person B just so happens to be the cute, mysterious stranger.

48. Person A and B go on their first date to the skating rink. The only problem is that A is terrible at skating and keeps falling on their ass. B still thinks Person A looks cute though with snow falling on them.

49. Person A burns their tongue on hot chocolate and Person B’s first instinct is to spray a shit ton of whipped cream into A’s mouth to “soothe the burns”.

50. Person B got caught up with work on Christmas Eve and now there’s a possibility they won’t be home in time. But it doesn’t end up as bad as A thought. Actually, it ends up being one of the best Christmases of their life.

51. The Christmas Song Prompt (Wild Card). Pick any Christmas song as your prompt and I’ll write something around the basis of the song. This is the only prompt I will do multiple of, as long as they are different songs.

#25 days of prompts #prompts #borrowed list #these are seriously amazing and I love them.

[robertdowneyjjr]

stevetony + you’re my hot neighbor au

heh another trope that never gets old. this got. really long.

they live in greenwich village. just a few blocks away from nyu, where steve is getting his masters in arts politics at tisch. he worked really hard to get into the program and he’s proud of himself for getting accepted.

he finds a place on bleecker street. the building’s huge, with almost 200 units scattered across 11 floors. it was an old hotel/boarding house that converted into a residential building, but the design elements from the past are still there. there’s an atrium on the ground floor that gets lots of natural light and it’s pretty much the defining feature for the building. 

each floor has two washer/dryer machines and a garbage chute. steve lives in a corner apartment – a 1-br unit that he shares with a roommate (sam). sam’s an undergrad student in his senior year and he’s been living there for the last two years, so he gets the bedroom. steve throws a curtain up around the living room and turns it into his bedroom. it works out because this way, their two rooms are actually the same size.

tony lives on the same floor, in a studio apartment just a few doors down. he got kicked out by his dad about a year ago when he refused to join the family business after graduating from mit. so when he got back to new york, he quickly found a job working part time as a technician for an electronics company. he spends the rest of his time tinkering and working out a business plan for his own company that would focus on green energy and consumer products.

steve and tony run into each other all the damn time. they both have odd hours. steve only has 1-2 classes a day, and he has a part time job at a gallery on the upper east side and he occasionally works as a bouncer at one of the clubs near his building.

anyway they most often see each other when they’re doing laundry. somehow they seem to always catch the other person when they’re just about done. tony would be pulling his clothes out of the dryer just as steve arrives with his load to wash. they’re polite. they say hello and that’s about it. they both think the other person is super fucking hot and they don’t know what to do about it.

so of course, they finally talk to each other for the first time in the laundry nook. as usual, tony’s almost set to leave just as steve arrives. but tony’s a fucking disaster, okay. he has his basket full of his nice and clean clothes and he’s about to turn and go, but he left his smoothie on the machine, so he grabs it before leaving. then his coordination goes right out the door when he’s about to drop the smoothie. he catches it. it’s fine. except he grips it too hard, the lid pops off, and he gets a nice strawberry banana smoothie down the front of his shirt.

he’s super embarrassed that this happened in front of Hot Blondie with the Tiddies

they’re both silent for a moment, but then the cold really gets to tony and he starts swearing, like fuck he literally JUST finished his laundry and he’s not about to start another load for ONE FUCKING SHIRT are you kidding he might as well just throw it out but it’s one of his favorite shirts, ugh this is just great what a disaster of a day.

steve kinda lets tony rant for a bit and he awkwardly suggests, “umm u can throw it into my machine? i’ll bring it by your apartment when i’m done?”

Hot Blondie with the Tiddies is a lifesaver and tony will be eternally grateful. he’s rambling about how much he appreciates this as he strips his shirt off and steve??? his brain just stutters to a halt. like yeah he’s always known that Cute Tiny Brunette is hot but he didn’t expect him to be this hot. like, okay, he’s lean! but holy shit!!! wow! look at those abs!!

it takes steve a while to reach out for the shirt that tony’s holding out to him. with his other hand, he offers it to tony and introduces himself. then he asks which unit tony’s in. “7EEJ,” tony says. and steve tells him, “okay cool! i should stop by in a couple hours.”

great!! tony fishes a shirt out from his basket and pulls it on before walking back into his apartment. steve stares at his ass the entire time.

anyway after this experience, they chat a lot more when they run into each other. instead of leaving right away when he’s done with his laundry, tony sticks around while steve loads up his machine. they become friends and it’s great.

they always compare notes on the neighborhood. “have u tried this restaurant?” “no, not yet. i’ve been meaning to.” “yeah you definitely should. maybe we should go together sometime.” and they both always perk up at the “let’s go together” part, but it’s always kinda like, an empty promise? because they never actually do.

one late night (or early morning really) tony comes home from a long day at work and he finds steve asleep on one of the uncomfortable sofas in the atrium. he wakes the guy up and he’s like, “why are u sleeping here???”

steve forgot his keys and got locked out. he got back from his job at the club and couldn’t get in the door, but he didn’t want to wake sam up because sam has an exam the next day, so he figured he could just sleep out there and call sam later.

tony’s like, “okay no u cannot sleep here what the fuck steve” and he drags steve up to his apartment and lets him crash there. and that’s how they start infiltrating each other’s space and actually spend more than 15 minutes in each other’s company. every once in a while steve would knock on tony’s door with little gifts like, “hey i got cookies do u want some?” and tony would knock on steve’s door to return the tupperware. they actually start getting coffee downstairs together. they find out that they both have coinciding monday and thursday schedules so they meet up and leave the building together. tony walks with steve to tisch and then goes on to his job. they get back home at around the same time on tuesdays and wednesdays, so they’d often stop by one of the restaurants near their building for dinner together, or steve would cook for them.

they basically do the whole thing where they’re dating but they don’t even know it.

there’s so much pining, oh my god. they’re lovesick fools.

eventually one night sam comes out of his room, on a break from writing his thesis to grab a drink from the kitchen when he spots tony and steve watching netflix over dollar slice pizzas in the dining nook of the apartment. and he’s like, “oh shit, sorry guys. didn’t realize it was date night. i’ll get out of your way.”

and steve and tony are like “ummm are we dating???????”

they work their shit out.

they don’t wanna disturb sam so they head over to tony’s apartment for the rest of the night.

by the time steve’s done with his masters and gets a full time job, and tony’s company has fully formed, they move in together in an apartment on the top floor of the building. they thought about looking elsewhere but they both have a soft spot for this place so they decide to stick around for the time being.

#stevetony #stevetony neighbors au #so this is literally based entirely on the building that my friend lived in #when she was studying at nyu #it's nice if a little old but pretty spacious #ny rent is ridiculous tho so idk how anyone can live in an apartment #without a roommate or three #kay writes things #anonymous #ask

[kizardofkoz]

The Eternal Pursuit of Emptiness

There I stood on top of the butte, with the closest of my people, and we humbly looked out over the sprawling desert. The landscape was like pieces of thrown pottery in fantastic and misshapen forms - rich shades of terra cotta, crimson and rust, and obviously, tears couldn’t help but fall, blazing small trails through the dust on my face. I couldn’t believe how fortunate I was. 

I was able to see this fraction of the kaleidoscope of nature. 

To be away with some of my favorite humans while I got to safely leave my absolute dearest ones at home with their grandparents. 

And I soaked in that dry west wind, whipping around us in warm gusts like ocean waves, leaves, and racing thoughts. 

My favorite three: 

1.) I call him my favorite. The man whose ring I wear, the father of my children, he yins my yang, tickles my brain and sometimes, when the timing is just right and we aren’t too tired, it isn’t too late or there isn’t something competing for our time on Netflix, we’ll occasionally play a round of some Chesterfield Rugby (PS - I just did a bit of a dive on some innuendos and my goodness. That is a really fun use of time. I can’t even write some of these but I am literally laughing right now. My mom reads this, you guys. And while I’ve [maybe?] worn her down a little on the curse words, I can’t go all in with the crass. 

Okay, fine. Just one: Harpooning the salty longshoreman. 

Fine, two: Nurtling. (I have no idea.) 

But I also feel it is unfair to not share Taking Grandma to Applebee’s? 

I’ve gotten off topic.

My other two loves on this trip are 

2.) My best girlfriend who I have had the honor of watching go through some of the best and absolute saddest experiences that I have humbly witnessed a human endure. And she navigated it all, and continues to go through life with a steadiness, focus, and motivation that is inspiring, still and sparkling. She has helped me move apartments, paint new walls when we moved into our first house, and paint the baseboards of those same walls on her morning off when we were selling that same house. She is fiercely dependable, loyal, she is the best damn person to travel with as she is equal parts responsible, adventurous and is a Type-A likes to research and plan things kind of gal where I’m more of the Type-B, let’s just dive in and see how we land type. We once held hands and jumped off the neighbors high dive on their dock on a girls lake trip very late one night. We’ve been to countless shows together. Gotten tattoos together. She’s one of the first people to hold my babies after they have been born and I can always count on her to order dessert. Her closet is the kind people pine after and she makes the best damn chocolate chip cookie you’ve ever eaten. She’s also married to my third person. 

3.) He is silly and kind and we have a podcast that we will some day launch, divulging our joint fascination with spooky things that make us light up and nervous laugh and open another beer as he tries to convince me that Yeti’s exist while I try to convince him to sing in church. We once started the idea of a band called “The Huggers and the Cryers” after drinking too much brandy on one of the very few New Years Eve’s that I was neither pregnant nor nursing a baby. Because he and I hug easily and love to cry. 

And don’t worry, I was back at babying the following year. Did you think I was going to go over 2 years and not have another boy? (Spoiler alert - NOT ANY MORE!!! And like, really for real, real. Grateful for IUD’s (and Steve’s eventual vasectomy) and for the four hilarious, adorable, wild, curious, loving and messy pups that we have now. 

But we have to stop. 

It’s like animal print. 

You have to find that fine balance between tasteful and too much. And unfortunately, a lot of times, a person doesn’t realize it is too much animal print, but everyone else does. This is my way of inviting an intervention if you see me starting to itch in the next few months. This is usually when we start Playing with the Box the Kid Came In (you guys, there are so damn many) so, you all have a responsibility, okay? Okay!

I have 100% gotten off topic.

Anyways.

The four of us did a smaller, summit hike on our last morning in Sedona this past month. (All of the couples of our closest tribe were invited to [crash] another couple’s 10-year anniversary trip. Three of us couples were able to swing it. And it was glorious. And very, very dry. And responsibly alcoholy.) 

So I was sitting near the edge of this butte and allowed myself to absorb the moment and then a vision came to me. (Yes, God gives me visions at times. And I also hear God at others. And I know how this makes me sound, and I have also quit caring because I believe if you are blessed enough to experience gifts like these, then you should be brave enough to admit it.) And in my minds’ eye, I saw a big teardrop shape, that was beautifully empty. 

Clear. Serene. Vacant.

And I exhaled and prayed and breathed deeply. I knew what God was telling me. That empty teardrop was empty of all worldly possessions and distractions, and in their absence, full and content. It was God in me. And I saw how I try to fill this tear drop with *all the things*; New siding, new shirts, new speakers and shoes, and magazines and schedules and technology and sports teams and equipment for sports teams and how these things pile on each other - at times inadvertently and other times compulsively and intentionally - and they become the main focus of my mind and my heart until they fill up and pile into this precious teardrop and the only part of the emptiness left is the space between all of the things.

The only part that is open and available for God, for contentment, or peace, is the space between.

The remainder.

And it is jagged and small and inconsistent.

Ironically, I try to complete my life with the things that I think make me happy, fulfilled and satisfied. Yet they are the exact things that end up taking away time, space and energy from the peace and contentment that is only truly felt when there is the empty space and quiet to focus on God.

So I exhaled and released it all. 

And I felt these earthly desires disappear and dissipate as I reclaimed that space, my sacred emptiness, that is so important to me. That is so important to God. And it was so easy, there on top of the warm rocks, accompanied by cactuses and bushes and my people and vortexes.

It is not easy, however, to empty myself in real life.

I tend to equate emptiness with negativity. 

Void of love, experience, calories, energy, connection.

But this spiritual cleansing is what I have needed for so long, and I forget to prioritize it. To protect it. 

This is the emptiness that allows space for *just being*. Breathing. For feeling God’s presence and consequently, the lack of desire for all of the other things that I constantly seek to fill that emptiness. 

A hollow holiness.

An exhale.

In church on Sunday our pastor spoke of spiritual vulnerability and the importance of confession. 

Ho.ly. Shit.

Where does one start?

Selfishness - in my marriage, in my relationships, with my time, with my children, with our money, with friendships, with my food and drink even. 

Materialism - wanting and focusing on all of the tangible, unimportant *things* of the world like new light fixtures, workout clothing, wall paper, throw pillows, hats, patio furniture, the perfect summer jean, the perfect front door mat, more peel and stick wallpaper, vacuums, planters, kids clothing, kids shoes, running shoes, house shoes, *let’s get some shoes*, drapes, ceiling fans, office chairs, boujee hand soaps, expensive skin care, swim suits & pianos. 

Gossip - Why is this so tempting??? I really try not to. I don’t really think I do. Much. And gossip isn’t like what it was when we were in middle or high school. But how tempting is it when there is a conversation about the neighborhood happening and you have hot insider information on why there isn’t a sidewalk on the neighboring street? How does one just go about their day and not share this with the person ringing up their fro-yo? I did not. Yet. Likely.

Lack of faith - Why does God keep expecting me to use faith if we both know I have it and used it last year?

Hypocrisy - Vomit. Where do we begin? Ughhkckhgh.

I would rather listen to podcasts about murder than the bible or deepening my faith. 

I focus way too much on my body and physical appearance.

I focus too much on how I want everybody to like me and if I feel like someone isn’t a Kiley-person, I obsess over it and get weird and needy and in my head and I shouldn’t really care if this person four rings out of my circle really cares about me and finds me kind, selfless and charming. But hopefully she thinks I’m a good dresser? *I AM ROLLING MY OWN EYES SO HARD RIGHT NOW*

I focus way too much on money and how we don’t have *enough-ish* even though we absolutely, 100% do have enough (non-ish) and will I ever be content and secure in this area?

I focus on what other people are doing with their time, money, lives and am left feeling jealous, angry and exhausted.

I focus on all of the things that take up residency in my teardrop, and I pray for God to take them away. For God to please forgive me for putting so much energy toward the unimportant instead of focusing the things God really wants for me:

Love. 

Self Acceptance.

Peace. 

Creativity. 

Meaningful relationships.

Connection with the divine.

Connection with my children.

More God.

Less stuff.

Less stress.

Emptiness. 

Contentment.

Enlightenment.

*Someone spent some time in the desert, can you tell?*

So I confess all of these things, yet again, to God, and to you all. And I pray that God will help me remember my desire for emptiness. To remember the importance, the value and treasure of emptying myself so I can fill it up with God’s love. With contentment. With peace.

So I can have extra time and energy to focus on the important things.

Like the eternal pursuit of emptiness.

Or for my husband and I to get to know each other better. In the biblical sense.

A terrifying and beautiful hike that sealed friendships in gold and red rock dust. We followed this 3-4 hour hike with breakfast and beers at a local, hole in the wall diner and it was my favorite meal of the entire weekend. And cheapest. I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVEN’T UNPACKED MY CRYSTALS YET!!!

Here’s my people. The hubs, and best friends Nicole & Brian. I don’t care if they don’t want their names shared. We have a constant google calendar invite to go to visit Big Sur every fall. We just keep putting it off but it makes me smile when I have to go to October in my calendar and book something.:) Some day.

I did yoga on the top of this thing like a gosh damn stereotypical basic B. But it was wonderful. But I also felt if I looked up during any balancing poses I would fall over, roll off the top and die. So I decided to look down a live. I’m a mom now so I make different decisions than I used to. 

This is just an awesome photo of summer. This was a couple weekends ago. We live down the street from the guy who used to be our entertainment lawyer for our old band. Now we have playdates on Friday nights and order pizza and drink craft beefs and our kids play together. And it’s awesome.

And this is just Keps eating pizza while getting wet from the general mist of the hose and water fights going on around him. I love this photo so much.

Surfs up, friends.

[distances-explode]

Dirty Laundry (Jalex)

For @alltimefanfiction‘s Last Young Renegade writing contest.

I had about 57 different ideas for one-shots for this song, but I finally decided on this one mostly because there’s never enough fics with trans characters. I use way too many ellipses in this one but I’m kinda okay with it.

Dirty laundry is piling in her room…

 “What’s got you so excited today?” Jack whispers as the collection plates are passed around the sanctuary. The soft piano music just barely masks his words. If his family heard him talking during any part of the service, he would probably get his mother’s infamous evil eye for the rest of the day. However, he just has to know what has his usually calm, collected friend practically vibrating in his seat. “You haven’t stopped shaking your leg since you sat down!”

Alex shrugs, but a half smirk grows on his face. “I’m just in a really good mood today.” He replies as the music fades to a stop and the pastor begins his sermon.

Jack ignores the way his best friend flinches in just the slightest when he leans in close, his lips nearly touching Alex’s ear. “Nothing you want to share with even your bestest friend in the world?”

Alex is sure not to meet Jack’s gaze after this question. Blushing, he shoves Jack’s shoulder. After being as close as they are for as long as they have been, pushing one another’s buttons was second nature to the two. Jack was the ultimate master at figuring out All Things Alex, even better at reading him than his brother. And while Jack would certainly say this was one of the many awesome things about their friendship, Alex would describe it as more of a curse disguised as a blessing. “I’m sure you’ll find out after today. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“When have you ever seen me be patient?” Jack whines, alerting his family seated in the pew to their front of the conversation. The four glares suddenly staring them down freeze their words in their mouths. Although this cuts their conversation short for the time being, it has absolutely no control over their soft giggles once the Barakat family refocuses their attention to the front of the sanctuary.

As much as Alex wishes that’s the end of the conversation, he’s not in the least surprised when Jack starts talking again after the benediction as if there had never been a pause. “You have to at least give me a clue. Did you get a car?” Jack guesses.

Alex scoffs. Jack believes Alex is the only 18-year old in the world whose parents refuse to let him even look at the classifieds for a used car. “You know I wouldn’t have been able to keep something like that to myself.”

“Some other gift, then? Something huge and epic that you can share with the only person you actually like in this church?” Even though now they wouldn’t want to be friends with anyone else, the friendship between the boys started as more of a necessity than a desire. When Jack’s family joined the church after immigrating from Lebanon, Alex’s family was the first to welcome them. They were the ones to help the Barakats achieve citizenship and learn the most common English phrases. Because they were the same age, Jack and Alex were practically expected to be best friends by their parents. Jack wasn’t yet enrolled in school and Alex had never really connected with any of the kids in the church’s daycare, leaving them more or less stuck with one another. It wasn’t long before they realized their mutual love for Sesame Street and throwing gravel at their siblings, and from then on, they were inseparable.

“Somehow, I don’t think this is something you would want to share with me.” Alex winks, heading to the church basement where all the post-service refreshments are served.

Jack’s eyebrows furrow together for just a moment before his jaw drops and he races after his friend. “You got a girlfriend, didn’t you? You’ve been seeing her in secret and you’re finally going public about it!”

“Jesus, Jack!” Alex exclaims at his melodrama, shaking his head and laughing. “No, I don’t have a secret girlfriend. Your guesses are getting warmer, though.”

As they pile snack plates high with cookies and drink sugary fruit punch, the guessing game continues. While every guess certainly brings enjoyment to everyone within listening distance, Alex assures Jack that his guesses are off and he’s definitely not near the correct answer. When Alex’s parents come find him so they can leave, Jack is in full-on pout mode. “If you were really my friend, you’d just tell me.” He mumbles, crossing his arms.

Alex ruffles Jack’s hair while his parents laugh at the two. “I promise, I’ll tell you as soon as I see you again.” Jack groans. The two didn’t attend the same school, meaning Jack would likely have to wait an entire week until next Sunday’s church service to find out. As bull-headed as Alex is being about the whole situation, Jack doubts any amount of texts he sent the boy would get him to give in.

As the Gaskarths walk away, however, Jack smirks. There’s never any harm in trying.

 She’s got her secrets...

 “Alexander, get back in the house this instant! Pastor Myers will be here any minute, and it’s pouring rain out there!” Alex’s mother stands in the doorway, her face conveying something between anger and fear.

“I’m not doing it, mom! I don’t need his help, and I don’t need yours!” He doesn’t care that his screams are certainly loud enough to alert the neighbors, even over the pounding thunder.

“Alex, we’re doing this for you. Why can’t you see that? You know this isn’t okay. Let us make you better!”

“I’m not sick and I’m not broken. There’s nothing to change! I’m happy with myself, and as far as I’m concerned, so is God. Why can’t you see that?”

The tears in her fierce eyes tell Alex that this is a battle he’s losing. “Please, baby. Come back inside. Let us work this out.”

It’s a battle he’s losing, and he refuses to stick around and see the end of it. “No. If you can’t accept me, I’m leaving.” He says simply, turning and running off the property.

He expects her to follow him, get in her car and chase him until he comes back. However, as he reaches the end of the driveway, the front door slams shut, and when he turns back to look at the house, no one else is in sight.

 Jack’s front porch is the last place either boy expects Alex to end up. Jack is home alone, and when the doorbell rings he almost doesn’t answer it. However, it isn’t long before the ringing turns into knocking and before long Jack is too annoyed to ignore it. He’s ready to chew out whoever is on the other side of the door until he opens in and reveals his best friend whom he hasn’t seen in 3 weeks, dripping wet. “Alex? Your mom told me you were sick! Where have you been? No, wait, why are you here? Are...Are you crying?” The questions tumble from Jack’s mouth before he can even process them.

Alex sniffles, arms squeezing himself tight in a solo hug. “I-I ran away. I didn’t know where else to go. Your house was the first place I thought of.”

Jack’s eyes go wide, less worried that Alex ran away from his family and moreso concerned that it’s nearly 9 o’clock at night and Alex walked to his house in a thunderstorm wearing nothing but old jeans, a stained t-shirt, and a pair of sneakers which he’s currently holding in his hands. Alex’s house is at least a good five miles from Jack’s own, and on the opposite side of the tallest hill in town.

“Right, of course.” Jack tries to be welcoming, covering his confusion and worry with a soft smile. “Come in, you must be freezing. I’ll make us some hot chocolate.”

Alex bites his lip, hesitant. “I don’t know if you’ll want me here long. I ran away from my family for a reason and once I tell you why I don’t think you’ll want me to stay.”

Taken aback, Jack’s calm facade falters. “Why come here at all, then?”

Jack can barely tell the shrug he gives as an answer apart from the shivers racking his body. “You’re my best friend. I want you to hear what’s going on from me and I don’t want to find out you hate me through the grapevine.” The tears forming in Alex’s eyes hurt Jack more than he expects them to.

“Alex, please come inside.” Jack urges. “There’s not much you could say to me that would make me as upset with you as you seem to think I’ll be.” He steps out of the doorway, leaving Alex more than enough room to walk inside. As the boy finally gives in and steps inside the house, realization dawns on Jack. “This...whatever is going on, does it have to do with that secret you were hiding from me last time I saw you?”

If he had known the question would cause Alex’s sudden descent into tears, he never would have asked.

Nodding, Alex allows his head to fall into his hands. The shivers that once shook his shoulders have been overthrown by sobs as the dam once holding him together shattered. “I really thought everything would be okay when I told my parents, but they didn’t react like I expected them to. They hate me, Jack. They hate me.” He sobs, legs barely keeping him upright.

There’s approximately 200 questions Jack wants to ask in that moment, but none of them seem particularly sensitive to the crying boy’s position, so instead he does what he does best: he closes the distance between his best friend and himself and pulls Alex into a tight bear hug. He doesn’t even speak, knowing any reassurances he attempts to give will likely fall on deaf ears. And when Alex’s legs finally give out, Jack falls to the ground with him, not even loosening his grip around Alex’s frame. “I’ve got you, okay? Just take some deep breaths, please.” He coos, rubbing circles into Alex’s soaked shirt.

“I can’t. Not until I tell you. God, I thought it would be better if I waited to tell you, but every time I think about you not knowing I get a little breathless. I suck at keeping secrets from you.” Alex tries to pass this off as a joke, but when his voice cracks and tears cut him off at the end, Jack feels nothing but heartbreak.

“So tell me.” Jack says, swallowing back the lump in his throat that both makes him feel like he’s going to cry and vomit at the same time.

And Jack’s pretty sure that when he finally does hear the truth, just for a second, his heart stops.

“I’m transgender, Jack.”

 Yeah, I’ve got mine too…

 “You’re...trans?” Jack fails epically at trying to keep the shock out of his voice, and he can only hope he hasn’t already scared Alex back into his (her?) shell.

There’s a pause as Alex sniffles and wipes away tears. “Yeah...I’m trans.”

“As in male-to-female?”

Alex nods. “I’ve been trying to figure it out for a while, and I think I’ve finally come to terms with myself and who I am. Like, I knew consciously that God was okay with me being...you know...a girl...but with the way the church tries to convince us otherwise, I couldn’t make myself be okay with it. I still don’t know if I’m really comfortable with this whole thing yet, but I couldn’t keep it a secret any longer, and when I made the decision somehow it felt like a weight was lifted off my shoulders, like I could finally stand tall and proud again. This...this is me, and I thought my family would be happy for me. They’ve always been so supportive of everything and everyone and for them to not be alright with this - not be alright with me -” her voice catches in her throat and she suddenly finds it impossible to meet Jack’s now shining eyes, “They started paying Pastor Myers to our house every day to ‘convert’ me, Jack. No matter how many times I tell them I’m not broken or that I don’t want to change who I am, they refuse to listen. They think they know better and that this is something that can be cured with a few days of prayer. I can’t go back there, Jack. Please.” Alex’s voice has gone from being shrouded in fear to dripping with desperation. Given the fact that Jack hasn’t thrown her out of his house yet, or even withdrawn his arms from her body, she has to believe that he’s at the very least tolerant of the “transgender lifestyle,” as her parents had begun to call it.

“Alex,” Jack breathes, allowing his head to bend forward and rest on Alex’s shoulder. He hopes she can’t feel the hot tears coursing down his cheeks. “Of course you can stay here. You’re an adult, and my parents would love to have you.”

At the mention of parents, Alex’s breath falters. “But won’t they be upset with me, too? Our parents are best friends...don’t you think they would agree on something like this?”

Jack just barely allows laughter to bubble past his lips into the crook of Alex’s neck. “I have a second cousin who’s trans, and my parents were the first to congratulate him on coming out. You’ll have to remind me to introduce you to him sometime. His name’s Rian and he’s the best drummer you’ll ever meet. Not to mention my parents practically threw me a party when I came out to them.”

Now, Alex practically forces them apart so she can look Jack in the face and search for any signs of deception. “You had to come out?”

Smiles are being planted on both of the teens’ faces as Jack responds. “Yeah, I came out to my family about a year ago. I haven’t really told anyone because...well, you see why. But I’m bisexual, in case you were wondering.” Alex is quiet, unsure of how to answer. Jack seems to get it, though, not prodding her for her new opinions forming about Jack. He remembers after he came out, even though it was received well, the last thing he wanted to do was “talk about it.” By the time he had worked up the courage to be open about his sexuality, it was old news to him, a part of his personality that didn’t require any more discussion than any other aspect of himself.

 I don’t care about what you did, I only care about what we do…

 “You’re soaking wet.” Jack continues when it’s clear Alex is letting the conversation on that particular topic die. He lets her go and purposely ignores the pout Alex gives in response. “Hang here a second.” he says, running upstairs towards his bedroom.

When Jack returns a minute later, Alex has just barely managed to get on her feet. Jack holds out a bundle of pink and white cloth, leading her to raise an eyebrow. “Here. These are some of May’s older clothes. I don’t think she wears them anymore, and they might be a little tight on you, but they should fit. I thought even though we’re the same size, given the situation, you might be more comfortable in them.” Jack explains, practically forcing them into Alex’s arms.

Alex’s tears had been beginning to taper off, but this gesture does nothing but bring them back full force. This time, she is the one to initiate the hug between the two. She lets the clothes fall between them as she practically squeezes the breath out of her favorite person in the entire world. Cringing every time a whimper or sob escapes her mouth, she buries her head into Jack’s shoulder until she can find her self-control.

“Are you okay, Alex?” Jack whispers as the cries quiet down again.

The pause lasts so long that just before he gets an answer, he begins to think Alex didn’t hear him. “Would you mind if I asked you to call me something different?” The girl asks hesitantly. Even though she’s right there, Jack still has to strain to hear her. “I know Alex is a gender neutral name and all, but whenever I hear my name, I always want it to be more...feminine, I guess. I think it might have something to do with gender dysphoria, personally.” She rambles on longer than necessary. Jack thinks it might be because she’s afraid of the answer she’ll get.

In response, Jack tightens his own grip in the embrace. “Just tell me what you want to be called, and I’ll try my best to remember.” Even though he’s trying to be nothing but supportive, he can tell his best friend is still holding back. She’s stiff in his arms, the nervousness and stress keeping her strung tight. “Something else is bothering you.” He murmurs.

She shrugs, not even trying to deny it. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s my job as your best friend to worry about everything that makes you upset. Please, talk to me.”

“Jack…” She warns, but he refuses to back down.

“Whatever you think is going to upset me, it won’t. I want to help you, Alex; I want to be here for you but I can’t if you don’t let me.”

Jack just knows that Alex bites her lip before she answers. “That’s it, though. This whole thing...I’m going to change, Jack. I’m going to change a lot. I don’t like who I am, plain and simple. This is a chance to recreate myself. And what if,” her voice catches in her throat. “What if when I do change, you don’t want to be here for me? What if I become so different that you don’t like me anymore?”

“That’s not going to happen.” Jack scoffs. The idea that he would ever not care about Alex is absolutely absurd in his mind.

“You don’t know that!” Her voice rises.

“Yes, I do.” Jack soothes. He cuts her off when she opens her mouth again. “Shut up and let me talk.” Alex rolls her eyes, but allows him to continue uninterrupted. “Nothing you do is going to change who you are to me. You’re my favorite person in the world, okay? I literally couldn’t care less about your gender. I don’t care what your parents or my parents or the church or even God says. All that matters to me is that you’re safe and happy. And besides, it’s not like because you realizing you’re trans affects your personality. You’re still the same person I met when we were five who taught me my first English swear words. You’ll just wear thongs instead of boxers.”

Alex isn’t really sure why the end of Jack’s speech surprises her so much. His sense of humor has always been on the innappropriate side. Holding back her laughter, she slaps his back where her hands had been resting previously. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, too bad you’re stuck with me, especially after that amazingly heartfelt speech.” He brags. Even though he’s joking, Alex can hear the sincerity in them. Jack’s told her he’s not going anywhere anytime soon, and despite her insecurities, she decides not to fight him. “And now that that’s been settled, you can tell me what I should start calling you.”

He can feel Alex smile against his shirt. “I don’t want to make it even harder for people than it already is, so I was thinking something simple like Alexis or Alexandria. What do you think?”

The boy can’t help but feel excited by his best friend’s excitement. “I like whichever you like best. I do have to say I might be a little partial to Alexandria, though. It’s prettier and less common. Most girls with that name just go by Alex, anyways.”

Lifting her head, Alexandria nods in agreement. “Alexandria it is, then.” She replies, smiling in satisfaction.

 Dirty laundry...looks good on you.

 “I should probably change. We’ll both get pneumonia if I wear this for much longer and you continue to hug me like this.” She laughs, pointing out the fact that Jack has yet to remove his hands from around her waist.

Jack shrugs, joining in on her happiness. “Worth it.” He pulls her even closer to him for emphasis.

“But if we’re both sick, who’s going to take care of me?” Alexandria whines, putting a hand over her forehead as if she’s about to faint.

“May makes the best chicken soup, I swear. If I pout for long enough, I’m pretty sure I could even get her to spoon-feed us. What more than that do you need?”

“Hmm,” Alexandria pretends to think. “I guess there is nothing more important than a good bowl of chicken soup…” She allows herself to relax again in Jack’s arms.

“You’re exactly right. All we’ll have to do is hang out in my room and watch some of those musicals you love.” Alexandria introduced the first musical she ever fell in love with, Hairspray, to Jack when they were in seventh grade. Since then, it’s a tradition for them to watch musicals together, even though Alexandria quotes every word of them verbatim and Jack pretends to hate every second of them, although he sings nearly every tune under his breath.

At the mention of a musical, Alexandria’s eyes go alight. “Oooh, can we watch Heathers again? We haven’t seen it in ages!”

“Only if you sing the duet with me in Dead Girl Walking!” Jack winks.

It may only be a joke when Jack says it, but when Alexandria replies with a sultry “you got it, J.D.,” and gives him a quick kiss, Jack sends up a prayer that Alexandria changes out of her wet, clingy clothes before they both reach his room.

The lyrics to Dead Girl Walking from Heathers the musical, in which Jack would be JD and Alex(andria) is Veronica in this instance.

#jalex #Jack Barakat #Alex Gaskarth #all time low #last young renegade #dirty laundry #transgender #mtf

[seriouslyhooked]

Some Call It Magic (A CS AU) Part 7/?

When Killian Jones moves to Storybrooke he instantly senses something strange about this little town in Maine but he’s willing to overlook all the bizarre signs for one reason: the single Mum living next door to him. There’s only one problem. Killian is nearly positive she’s a witch, a brewing potions and casting spells witch. But when true love is involved, does a little thing like magical powers really matter? Story rated M.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6. Also On FF Here.

A/N: Hey all! I’m back with another chapter of this lovely little fic, and it comes bearing sweetness in its purest form with a little humor thrown in for good measure. So basically it’s my typical CS fare. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy and thanks so much for reading!

Mixing the last of her necessary ingredients for the rest of the afternoon’s menu at Stay A Spell a little over a week later, Emma couldn’t help but feel totally invigorated. After a full morning of work, and a busier day at the café than she was often used to, Emma should have been tired or fatigued, but she couldn’t seem to muster those feelings. Instead she was riding a lovely kind of high, one that had been ever present since that perfect first date with Killian that had changed everything.

For the first time in her life, Emma Swan truly understood that giddy, happy, ‘the world is new’ feeling that so many people claimed came with dating the right person. In her past and with her track record, Emma had never known the kind of thrilling anticipation of what would happen next, or the true enjoyment of a man’s company. She’d always been hesitant, always been guarded, and had never been satisfied with any of the so-called suitors that life threw her way.

Now, however, things were noticeably different, and Emma was learning a lot about what it meant to be open and what it meant to give things a chance. She had jumped in so to speak, giving more of herself to this blossoming relationship with Killian than she’d given anyone in such a long time and she was happy with the results so far. To this point things were going as close to perfect as she imagined a start of relationship could be, and though the fear that she would screw this up lingered and she still worried about some pitfalls that may come (namely one particularly pesky magical conversation), Emma was in this in a way she’d never allowed herself to be before.

“We appear to have a slight problem on our hands, love,” Killian had said this morning after the bus took Henry away to school and he’d crossed their yards from where he was getting the paper to visit her in her garden.

“Oh really?” Emma asked, trying her best to sound at once flirtatious and yet just a tiny bit above his seduction (which she most definitely was not unaffected by). “And what’s that?”

“You see, Emma, the more time I spend with you, the more I want to. It’s a never ending cycle that I just can’t seem to get out of,” he’d confessed, his body only inches from her, bringing Killian well within arm’s reach and just a touch out of kissing distance. Emma’s eyes had dropped to his lips in response thinking about how badly she’d like to change that.

“So maybe we should stop fighting it and just give in,” she’d countered, not bothering to see if there were any nosey neighbors on the street as she stepped into his arms and ran her hand along his chest.

“Ah, so there is a we in this then?” Killian asked with a huge grin. “That’s extremely comforting, love. A man hates to be caught up in something this grand all alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Emma whispered, and then it had been a mutual movement between them leading up to a much needed kiss that Emma swore she could still taste even now…

“You almost done with that, Ems?” a teasing voice asked, pulling Emma from the rapidly escalating daydream and when she looked up it was unsurprisingly Ruby with a smirk at her lips and humor in her eyes.

“Uh, yeah. I’m good.” Too late Emma realized what she’d just walked into with that one, and she swore her eyes were already rolling before Ruby even caught her breath to reply.

“Oh I bet you’re better than good. From what I hear you had quite the kiss this morning.”

At this point Emma could have feigned surprise, but she didn’t feel like bothering, not when Storybrooke was notorious for finding out secrets and when Ruby especially had a means of sniffing out the truth better than almost anyone Emma knew. Besides, Emma had made that decision to ignore their surroundings this morning of her own free will, and in doing so she’d readily run the risk of word getting out.

“Remind me to have a chat with Graham later,” Emma said as she drizzled the final bit of the melted chocolate she’d been mixing over the specialty cake she’d crafted for this afternoon.

“Why?” Ruby asked in surprise and though Emma was sorely tempted to smirk, she bit it back, delivering her own well-placed jab with a perfectly straight face.

“Well he’s clearly slacking in those husbandly duties you’ve bragged about for so long if you’ve got time to collect all this intel on my morning activities.”

The words sparked a fire in Ruby’s eyes that Emma was very familiar with and the next thing she knew Ruby was throwing her towel at Emma and Emma was sending it flying in the other direction with a flick of her wrist. This was a norm for them to be honest, with one of them launching a pseudo-attack and the other matching it beat for beat through magic or otherwise, but it was all fun and games and it ended with the towel falling to the ground and the two of them laughing.

“So I’m being a little more vigilant than usual as my best friend actually lets someone in? Sue me,” Ruby eventually said. “And as for my husband, you know damn well there’s been no slacking of any kind.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Emma said shaking her head and grabbing the cake as she nodded for Ruby to bring the last of the items they needed out front. “Trust me, if it wasn’t clear from you’re being actually personable every morning before the first pot of coffee’s brewed, your play-by-plays thereafter leave little to the imagination.”

“Well maybe I wouldn’t have to regale you with stories of my love life if you were a little more talkative about yours,” Ruby teased and Emma shook her head even as she chuckled too, knowing that with Ruby there would always be a way to talk about Graham. 

Leaving the subject for the moment, Emma and Ruby finally made their way back inside the storefront of the café and to the table that was always ‘reserved’ on Fridays for Emma and her friends. It was in a perfect location too, enjoying the spoils of the afternoon sunlight through the window without being too central to the rest of the shop. That last part especially was critical for two reasons – one because it meant Emma and Ruby weren’t so accessible to other customers and the other staff could usually attend to people without their being disturbed, and also because oftentimes the discussions these dessert dates brought varied in general populous appropriateness. Their talks ranged from the mundane to the magical, and for Emma’s peace of mind it was good to at least pretend to shield some of this stuff from the wandering eyes and ears of their neighbors.

“Oh thank God there’s cake this week!” Anna said excitedly as she came inside the café and immediately put her scarf and sweater behind her favorite spot. “I swear I told Kristoff last night that if I didn’t get some to die for chocolate cake in the next twenty four hours I just might perish.”

“And he let you go that long without some?” Ruby asked, actually shocked and mirroring Emma’s emotions to the tee.

Typically Anna’s husband, bumbling and sometimes awkward as he was, was amazing at one thing – finding things that made Anna happy and getting them for her no matter what it took. Seriously it was a gift, and Emma had to agree that it was shocking that Anna could drop a hint like that and it would go unanswered. But then Emma and Ruby noticed the blush on Anna’s cheeks and her growing, sunny smile and they knew they were in for some charming little tale of cuteness and romance.

“He tried, you guys. He really did. You should have seen him with that box last night, staring at the directions like it was actual rocket science.”

“Well it might as well be to you guys,” Emma joked and Anna acquiesced the point, since both her and Kristoff pretty much lived off of sandwiches and take out.

“Anyway, long story short the cake… wasn’t that great.”

“But let me guess,” Ruby said, “You ate the whole thing.”

“Nope,” Elsa said as she appeared at the table, already jumping into the conversation having only heard the tale end of what was said. “Anna got through one slice and then called me in a panic. I had to do a summoning spell to get half of it to my house before Kristoff got out of the bathroom, and let me tell you, that is not easy when you can’t actually see the cake in question. Facetime does not an accurate focus point make.”

“Jeez, you two would have been better off just throwing it out the window or something. I mean a summoning spell? Are you nuts?” Ruby asked, shaking her head like the prospect of doing one of those blind all for something as trivial as cake was beyond her.

“We were pressed for time,” Anna claimed though she still looked a little embarrassed. “Plus I played the bushes card when Kristoff tried to make cookies for me on Valentines Day and then the next morning every squirrel in a three mile radius was running around with them. It was so totally obvious.”

“Do you think he knows what actually happened?” Emma asked, not because she was worried about Kristoff knowing about magic (for he, like the other husbands in this group, knew everything and was more than accepting), but because she was actually concerned for his ego. After all, Kristoff was a nice guy, and such a sweetheart to one of her dearest friends. Emma didn’t like the idea of him being hurt over something that didn’t really matter in the long term.

“Let’s just say I did a very good job of distracting him right away before he could ask too many questions,” Anna said cheerily as Ruby gave her an ‘atta girl’ and the bell over the doorway jingled, signaling that Mary Margaret and Belle had both arrived, completing their set of friends for this little tradition they shared.

“I swear Friday could not come soon enough this week!” Mary Margaret exclaimed as she grabbed her mug for cocoa from Ruby and slid into her usual seat.

“Rough time at school?” Emma asked, worried both for her friend but also for Henry. 

“No, school’s great. The kids are all adjusting and my goodness they’re so bright this year, especially Henry. I just can’t seem to shake this bug. David had it last weekend and now I guess it’s my turn to be exhausted for no reason.”

“I’m sure it will pass soon,” Belle said kindly before imparting the names of a few other neighbors who had apparently had something similar in the past few weeks.

Mary Margaret nodded, choosing to be positive about it before helping herself to some of the cake, but in the back of Emma’s mind there was a tiny trickling of questioning. After all, it wasn’t really a secret that Mary Margaret and David were anxious to start a family. Maybe this was an early sign that they were on the right path? Emma definitely hoped so because she wanted her friends to get to that future they so badly wanted, but before Emma could put that out there to her friend, the bell above the café door jingled again and all of her friends turned in the direction of the newcomer and grinned, causing Emma to know in her gut before she’d so much as turned that Killian was here. Her heart leapt into her throat and that familiar sense of thrill and expectation came rushing in as she twisted in her chair to see him looking more than a little surprised at the congregation gathered round this afternoon.

“Well if it isn’t Storybrooke’s favorite new resident,” Ruby said happily as she leaned back in her seat. “We were wondering when you’d show up for your daily Emma– I mean coffee -fix.”

Emma rolled her eyes and got up to move to Killian as her friends tittered amongst themselves in a well-meaning but highly embarrassing way, but as she came closer to Killian and she saw the humor in his eyes, Emma felt much better. That relief was only compounded when he offered her his hand and she took it boldly in front of everyone.

“Apologies, Swan. I didn’t realize you had plans this afternoon,” Killian said as he looked back to the table and offered a nod and a smile that appeased her snooping besties for the moment before looking back at her. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“So what did you mean to do?” Emma asked with a little flirtatiousness to try and cut through his worry and Killian’s eyes lit with her challenge as he moved just a tiny bit closer and dropped his words to that low, gravely tone she’d grown almost addicted to over the past few days.

“Well Ruby isn’t so far off in her estimations…” Killian said before licking his lips and causing Emma to swallow harshly. God he was like a walking temptation and Emma, who had always prided herself on being so above all that, was falling further into it than any sane person should. “I am in dire need of coffee.”

Emma blinked up at him in a bit of a seduction-fueled daze before catching his joke and laughing heartily at his words. It was too funny not to, especially since she knew that he had meant Ruby was right about wanting to see her, but when she looked back at him Killian had gone quiet, looking at her with this new found intensity that hadn’t been there a second before. Emma felt caught in that look too, and as she came back from the momentary high of the unbridled laugh her energy shifted back to a desire that only grew when Killian’s other hand came up to brush a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Remember what I said about not making a scene?” Killian asked, his voice even huskier with emotion than it had been and Emma nodded. “You make it very difficult to stick to that path, love.”

It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to say that maybe he should wander a little bit, but then one of the counter clerks approached with Killian’s usual order and that bubble surrounding the two of them was broken. Emma at first thought the interruption was thanks to Ruby, but then she heard a groan of frustration from her best friend across the café and Emma could just picture her friends getting all bent out of shape that their spying had been cut short. When Emma snuck a glance in that direction she saw she was totally correct in that assumption and confirmed that all of her friends were watching with rapt attention.

“Well I guess that’s my sign to get going,” Killian said, drawing Emma’s attention once more. “Are we still on for dinner the three of us tonight?”

“Absolutely,” Emma said, eager for him to know that she was looking forward to spending time with both Killian and her son, and when he beamed at her in that totally endearing way she couldn’t resist the opportunity to sneak a quick kiss, audience be damned. “I’ll see you later.”

“That you will,” Killian agreed before waving his goodbyes to her friends and heading out the door as Emma watched him go, enjoying one last moment of warm fuzzies before turning back and facing the music across the café.

“I know we promised not to comment on the change in you, Emma,” Elsa said as Emma approached her friends once more. “But I can’t help it. You just look so happy, which in turn makes me so happy, and I’m getting all choked up just thinking about it.”

“And it’s not just you,” Ruby tossed in as she flicked her wrist to magically warm up her cup of tea, not giving a damn about if any one in the nearly empty café saw how the cup glowed red for a moment. “The whole town is riding the happy high these days.”

“It’s almost contagious,” Belle agreed and the friends all laughed as Belle immediately realized how strange that had sounded. “You guys know what I meant. I mean that the happier Emma and Killian seem to be, the more joy everyone else is feeling too, and we all know the power of happiness and hope especially in this town.”

Emma tried not to give away any indication of how much the words were affecting her, but under the table her hands fidgeted in her lap. Obviously she had expected all eyes to be on her and Killian, but it was still a lot to take in. At least when no one was making comments like this Emma could pretend that the eyes of the whole town weren’t upon her and her first real relationship in forever. But with her friends harping on how gleeful they and every nosey neighbor in a five-mile radius was Emma lost out on that fantasy. She had to face facts – she and Killian were people of interest, and until something or someone else came to town to take the heat off, it would likely stay that way.

“It’s a wonderful thing to witness,” Mary Margaret stated dreamily. “Two people taking those first steps into love when it’s so clearly deserved. It’s the realest kind of magic.”

“Oh here we go,” Emma muttered to herself. She’d kind of been on board with the whole emotional analysis thing for a while, but this was her final nudge. The mention of love was where she had to draw the line, especially since she and Killian had only been ‘dating’ for about a week, and even if it had been one of the best weeks Emma had ever known it didn’t matter. Love was too strong a prospect to be dabbling with right now after only a handful of dates. There had to be some limits, and Emma was adamant that this was one of them.

“Alright, alright we get it. We’ll stop… for now,” Ruby said with a mischievous grin before changing the subject. “In the meantime lets talk details. The full moon this month falls the night of the Harvest Festival. How are we handling this?”

It was a good question to ask, and it was one Emma hadn’t been very mindful of in recent days. She’d been so distracted with Killian that she hadn’t had time to really think of her magic, at least not in such a proactive way. Her thoughts in that vein had mostly fixated on how to hide her continuing flare-ups of supernatural ability until she was totally sure this thing with Killian was going to last, but this was something the friends all had to take part in and be devoted to in order for it to work.

Every year the friends greeted each new season with a ritual handed down for generations that was designed to keep the town and the people of Storybrooke safe. It was white magic at its finest, and a good amount of fun for the friends where they all got to feel in touch with their powers used for good, but they needed a full moon to cast the protections in the right way, and that was a far more complicated process when the whole town was as riled up as they would be on festival day. Usually the five of them (and Anna) could all head down to the beach or into one of the central fields in town without anyone noticing, but in Storybrooke Harvest Day was a big deal, with parties in different places and neighbors all around and popping up where you least expected them.

“I have an idea about that actually,” Belle said quickly, grabbing a heavy book from her bag, which in itself wasn’t so strange, but the clearly… uh how could Emma put this nicely… old and witchy manuscript did not belong at a normal friend’s lunch. Even if the town was understanding of magic and its existence and no one currently in here would bat an eye, it was dangerous in Emma’s opinion and so she flicked her wrist towards the book, masking it with a silent incantation to appear more normalized.

“Good catch,” Mary Margaret murmured and Emma let out an affirmative hum before letting Belle continue.

“As I was saying, there’s a way to work around it. We just have to find the spot we want a few days before and prep it. We’ll make a barrier and cast a spell that diverts people from intruding. It’s pretty basic, but you’d be amazed how many incantations I found that didn’t care about what happened to people who stumbled upon your sight. One of them actually said ‘warning – may cause permanent amnesia or amphibious transformation.’ Like who would use that?”

“Someone back in the dark ages when that book was written,” Anna said saucily and all the friends laughed as Belle rolled her eyes. “No offense Belle, it’s just sometimes I wonder where the heck you find these things.”

Emma listened as her smartest friend muttered about online forums and extensive research and in a show of support Emma grabbed Belle’s hand and patted it gently. After all they should be appreciative of Belle’s investigation. She was getting them out of a jam, and by sacrificing so much of her own time Belle had not only eased a burden of finding answers on all of them, but she’d made the town safer in the process.

“So if we’re good on that front, what else do we need?” Emma asked, ticking through the list of things they’d required past years and thinking of her own personal pantry. She knew she had dried blackberries, rose thorns, and dogwood bark. Then she had the requisite candles and some other tokens and so on, but there were still a few holes missing

“I grabbed some more sycamore wood while I was in Boston. I broke like ten laws smuggling it back up here, but that’s something at least,” Elsa offered, and one by one all of her friends named other things they had. By the end of it all, Emma was pleasantly surprised that they had almost everything in stock and only needed to locate two rarer items.

“So all we need then is stem of water lily and crushed pink scallop shell,” Belle said happily. “Mary Margaret, you’ve got water lilies in the pond in your backyard right?”

“Sure do,” their pixie-haired friend replied. “I’ll send David on a little excursion. You know he loves being helpful with all of this.”

“And you love avoiding diving for pond scum,” Elsa tossed back which had all of them laughing save for Emma, who was just a little more focused on that last element that they needed for the spell.

The mention of shells caused an understandable jump to the memory of Emma and Killian’s first date and that night on the beach when they’d found the blue scallop. At the time Emma had been so distracted by Killian she hadn’t thought much more of it than its being a beautiful addition to an already lovely moment, but then the next morning she’d been confronted with something that made her heart stop painfully in her chest – that same shell that Killian had taken home with him had appeared on her porch railing, only this time nearly almost all of the very noticeable cerulean blue was gone and replaced with an unnatural golden sheen that was clearly the product of her magic.

Immediately Emma’s mind had started racing and her hands shook as she’d looked from the railing back across the yard to Killian’s house. Thanks to the earliness of the hour he wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but then she picked up the note and his words were somehow both sweet and sensual and there was no indication in his letter or later actions that he was the least bit concerned with the color change.  If anything actually Killian had been more open in his affections and his want to pursue a future with her, and Emma, scared as she still remained that somehow the whole magic thing coming to light before she was ready, found herself falling into that same state of mind where she wanted all the chances she could find to spend more time with the charming, kind, and problematically attractive man next door.

“Emma?” Belle’s voice said, cutting through Emma’s mini daydream that she’d just slipped into, and as she shook away her musings Emma noticed all of her friends had their eyes on her. Great, she was totally and completely busted, again.

“I’m sorry Belle, what did you say?”

“I asked if you’d mind getting the shells. You and Henry had plans to go to the beach this weekend, right? He mentioned it yesterday when he came into the shop.”

“Yeah that’s no problem,” Emma answered and thankfully her friends accepted her answer after a short pause, moving on to the rest of what they’d need to do to prepare for the next weekend’s activities.  And though it was difficult, Emma worked diligently to keep focused too, knowing that it was best not to tempt fate and keep daydreaming about a certain hunky neighbor when she would get a chance to see him again in just a matter of hours.

…………..

“Do you think Granny’s will be busy tonight?” Henry asked as he, Emma, and Killian walked together down the main street of Storybrooke just as the sun was beginning to go down. “I hope not, I really want to show Killian our spot.”

Henry’s words were touching, and if Killian hadn’t already felt fully accepted by the lad before this he would now. It was just so clear in every way that Henry was happy about all of this, and though it was still a tricky situation, what with Killian never wishing to overstep his bounds with Emma’s child, he was truly pleased at Henry’s acceptance of him and its easy nature. Things would be very different if he and Henry did not get along, but as it was, Henry was easily one of the biggest champions of things working out between Emma and Killian. Yet even that required a delicate balance, because the last thing Killian wanted was Emma to feel pressured to pursue things with him just because it would make Henry happy. Emma would do anything to bring her son joy, but what Killian needed was for Emma herself to choose this and to choose him, not because people expected it but because it was what her heart desired.

“I think if we all played our part in ‘Operation Grilled Cheese’ we should be golden,” Emma replied, reminding Killian of how they’d all agreed not to broadcast their dinner plans this evening to prevent more people at the town’s small diner trying to spy on their interactions than would already be present.

“I didn’t tell anyone!” Henry offered eagerly. “Did you guys?”

“And ruin my chance to see the spot? Not a chance, mate,” Killian said, pulling a laugh from Henry as they made it finally to Granny’s and he peered inside. Instantly glee filled Henry’s face and he was in motion, racing up the walkway to the old establishment with barely any words of explanation.

“The booth’s free! I’ll go grab it before anyone else does,” he announced before slipping inside and out of view, leaving Emma and Killian alone for the first time all evening.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Emma asked with a shy smile as they stalled for a moment in front of Granny’s. “This isn’t just dinner with me and Henry you know…”

“Aye, love. It might as well be dinner with the whole bloody town,” he countered and Emma exhaled, glad that he understood as she nodded. “Truth is though I’m more than ready. I’ve no wish to hide this thing between us from anyone. Do you?”

“No,” Emma admitted, stepping forward to take his hand in hers and filling him with hope that this would all work out as she did. “No I don’t.”

A moment passed between them and Killian debated what to do next. His heart said to pull Emma in and kiss that soft smile of hers until they both forgot where or who they were, but his head said to play it cool and walk into Granny’s without giving the town any more fodder. It was a hard choice to make given how different the immediate payoff would be, but in the end Killian stuck with the well reasoned plan, knowing that if it would protect Emma and Henry from even a tiny bit more speculation in the long run it would be worth it to wait for another moment with Emma when they were actually alone.

“Then I think it’s about time we get inside, love. After all, Henry’s liable to burst from all the anticipation.”

Killian looked on then as Emma peered through the window and no doubt saw Henry watching them. Killian hadn’t been looking in that direction for some time, but he could just sense that as observant and constantly vigilant as Henry was he’d be keeping tabs on his mother and him, and Killian knew from Emma’s reaction that he had been right in that assumption. A soft blush came to her cheeks but she didn’t pull her hand back, instead she glanced back at him with another smile and some encouraging words before pulling him inside to this long awaited dinner.

“There you guys are!” Henry said eagerly, waving them over to the table with that ever present smile of his firmly in place. “And look, Granny even brought menus, though I don’t know why. It’s not like we need them.”

“Not all of us can be locals at this point, lad. I’m still growing accustomed to the offerings. Trying to find where I fit.”

“Fair enough,” Henry said, flipping his own menu open as if he’d bear the cross of using one just to give Killian some moral support. “Just don’t try and fit with the lasagna.”

“Not the best choice?” Killian asked jovially and Henry shook his head before shooting a look at Emma and laying the dirty truth out there for consideration.

“Mom once said she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy.” Well if that wasn’t a glowing reason to avoid the Italian here, Killian didn’t know what could be.

“I know your Mum’s obviously rather taken with the grilled cheese, but what about you lad? Any suggestions.”

“The burgers aren’t bad,” Henry mused. “But I usually get the turkey club. You just gotta make sure that Granny gives you fries when they’re piping hot. That can make or break a dinner.”

“The things I learn in your company, Henry. I’m truly in your debt.”

“I know,” Henry said with a wry grin as he sat up straighter and puffed out his chest a bit. “And I’m waiting to cash in when the time is right.”

“Smart, lad. Let me guess, that���s another lesson you’ve picked up from Ruby,” Killian offered and Henry shook his head.

“Nope, Elsa,” Henry said and Killian was surprised to hear that about the woman he’d only known as sweet and uncalculating. He was so taken aback in fact that he looked to Emma for a secondary opinion.

“Shocking I know, but Elsa’s a huge fan of the world poker tournament. Why, I have no idea, but everything with her can come back to a poker metaphor. It’s amazing.”

“And here I was thinking my brother was the only one who watched those things,” Killian admitted, thinking back to the memories he had of Liam on leave where his TV was taken over for days at a time to watch those horribly unentertaining competitions with semi-professional gamblers. Killian had always thought it a quirk unique solely to Liam, but hearing that Elsa was somehow intertwined with that world as well made him happy. Who knew? Perhaps there’d be a meeting of their poker-intrigued minds one day if Liam ever got around to visiting like he promised he would.

“You mean Liam?” Henry asked, all of a sudden very excited again.

Killian had noticed this was a theme with Henry. All it had taken was learning that Liam was a sailor and a military man and Henry was hooked, wanting to know everything Killian would tell him. It had been fun to regale the lad with stories about Liam too, for Killian was more than happy to brag about his elder brother’s many accomplishments. But Killian would confess to being surprised by some of the queries, like whether Liam had a wife or how he’d feel about moving to Maine. Honestly, what kind of ten year old had that kind of criteria on the brain? Apparently one with as many meddling ‘aunts’ as Henry.

“The one and only,” Killian said as Henry grinned.

“Cool! I can’t wait to meet him!” Henry said, and though Killian was filled with a rush of encouragement at Henry’s already planning to keep Killian in his life at least long enough to meet his brother, he noticed Emma stiffen slightly and he offered her a smile and a reassuring nod.

“He’s pretty excited to meet you too, lad. In fact he told me so last night,” Killian said and Henry looked pleased as punch as Emma tilted her head with a curious look dancing across her green eyes.

“I didn’t realize you’d gotten the chance to hear from him,” Emma said, no longer worried about the implications of the familial introduction, but now clearly fixated on what that meant for Killian. After all his brother was abroad and in the thick of harms way. Often weeks went by without Killian having contact with Liam, but now at least for a little while he knew his brother was safe and well. “You didn’t say anything.”

“Aye, I know love. Things seemed to keep getting in the way…” Killian said, his mind wandering back to their shared kisses this morning and their interlude at Stay a Spell this afternoon. From the light that came to Emma’s green eyes he had to assume her thoughts had wandered that way as well. “But Liam managed to tell me that his current mission is close to being completed, and then I got to tell him a little about my new home.”

“What did you tell him?” Henry asked truly desirous to know and so Killian was honest as Granny took their order and their food was all eventually brought out. He told Henry about how he’d given Liam a glowing review of the town over all, about how he found it to be a place that was both peaceful and invigorating, and about how the people here were good, but none of them compared to two of his new neighbors in particular.

“I think he’s talking about us, Mom,” Henry joked as he chowed down on those french fries he’d been so complimentary of and Emma chuckled along with Henry, creating a scene for Killian that he wanted to remember always. The two of them happy and unaffected even by the constant stares that had been pointed their way since walking in… well in Killian’s eyes it was a truly magical sight.

“Seems like it, kid,” Emma agreed as she made quick work of her own grilled cheese.

“So….” Henry continued a little thereafter with slow deliberation, giving some indication that he was about to try and pry some information from the two of them. “Are you two, like, going steady?”

The query to Killian was immediately humorous, but it was made all the more comical when Emma began choking on the sip of her water she’d just taken. Immediately she looked like a deer caught in headlights but Killian just took her other hand in his under the table and smiled, directing his attentions to Henry to try and buy her some time.

“Going steady?” Killian asked almost mockingly. “Now where on earth did you hear that one, lad? I know for a fact that’s not what the kids are calling it these days.”

He didn’t actually know that to be true, but Killian had to believe that given the state of the world, ten year olds weren’t asking people if they were together in this kind of way. There had to be some new slang or colloquialism, and this particular turn of phrase signaled that the question might be a plant from some nosey (but undeniably well-meaning) second party.

“Mary Margaret,” Henry admitted and Killian chuckled as Emma huffed under her breath about how if they were basing this on her friend’s standards there’d be letterman jackets and promise rings involved. Nevertheless Emma managed to find a way to answer the question in a way that was simultaneously vague and yet somehow informative.

“I thought we talked about this already, kid,” Emma said, shooting Killian an apologetic look. She had mentioned to him a few days ago that Henry was apprised of this blossoming thing between them, but that Emma hadn’t exactly put any labels on it other than that they were seeing each other.

“We did, but that was like three whole days ago.” Killian had to laugh again at that sentiment, but in his heart of hearts he wasn’t looking at this very differently. Three days might not be enough for some people, but Killian had needed less than that to know that what he’d found with Emma he wanted to last. This wasn’t some casual link they were building between them, at least not in Killian’s eyes.

“Three days isn’t exactly a lifetime, Henry,” Emma countered, some of her humor returning after the initial shock of his question.

“But you really like each other, right?” Henry asked, this time aiming the question at Killian directly, and in the face of that earnest need to know Killian couldn’t deny Henry.

“Aye, lad, we do,” Killian agreed before glancing at Emma who responded in kind.

“So what’s the hold up? Shouldn’t you just be boyfriend and girlfriend by now?” Henry asked, not in a malicious way but in one that made it seem like he really didn’t understand. Looking into his eyes, Killian saw that it was honest confusion that had Henry asking and not some agenda he was trying to keep guarded.  

“What do all of your books on sailing say is the most important thing to keep in mind, lad?” Killian asked, seemingly changing the topic but knowing this would be his surest way to let Henry understand.

“That the winds have to be right and the sea should be easy,” Henry said as if he’d memorized the cardinal rule for ideal conditions.

“Exactly. So think of this in those terms. It might not be ideal to wait for what you want, Henry, but only when the timing’s right can things truly be as they’re meant to.”

Those words, true as they might be, felt a little heavier than Killian might have liked for dinner, and in the moment when he turned his attention from Henry to Emma he was a little worried about what her response would be, but he shouldn’t have been. For when their gazes met those eyes of hers said a thousand words she didn’t have the chance to say right now, ones of both gratitude and agreement and something deeper that Killian wanted so badly to understand but didn’t have the chance now to analyze.

“I get that,” Henry said after a moment’s pause, drawing Emma and Killian’s attention back to him again. “It’s just a little weird calling you my Mom’s ‘special friend.’”

“Oh that’s… well it’s bloody dreadful isn’t it?” Killian asked, begging excuse for his language as Henry and Emma both laughed again at his assessment.  

“That’s what I said!” Henry agreed. “So what should I do, Mom?”

This was a moment of truth now, for Killian didn’t think he could bail Emma out of another inquiry, yet despite her earlier hesitations, Emma offered nothing but a warm smile and some actually sound advice.

“What you always do when the plan’s still in motion, kid…” Emma prompted and then both she and Henry filled in at once.

“Tell them ‘it’s classified.’”

With that the interrogation of sorts about what was going on between Emma and Killian finally died down, and the rest of the evening at Granny’s and at the ice cream shop thereafter went exactly how Killian envisioned, which was to say without a hitch. This was easy, strange as that was given Killian’s lack of experience with kids or dating with feelings that were this big, but it was and at night’s end when they’d arrived back at Emma and Henry’s it was hard yet again to say goodbye, just as it was every night when the time came for him to retreat back across the yard and to leave them here in their perfect little home.

“So we’re still going sailing tomorrow right?” Henry asked as they got to the door and Killian grinned at the reminder that in a few hours they’d all be reunited for a day spent together.

“Aye Captain, if the weather holds there’ll be no stopping us.”

“Cool! Mom and I have to stop at the beach to get some pink scallop shells though. Can you help?”

It seemed a slightly strange but not undesirable request in Killian’s eyes, but he noticed the way that Emma stiffened up at the mention of the shells. He wasn’t sure if it was because of their last interaction with them (which they still had not spoken of since he knew she wasn’t ready) or for some other reason, but Killian’s sole intention in this moment became to relieve some of that worry that had fallen over her features.

“I’d be honored to, lad. It’s an interesting treasure you’re after to be sure, but I’m in.”

“Awesome! Okay, I’m gonna go inside so you two can have your mushy moment. Goodnight Killian.”

“Night Henry,” Killian called back as he laughed at the fire in Emma’s son and watched Henry head inside, leaving Killian and Emma with a window he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting for.

“All things considered I’d say this night was a success, Swan,” Killian said as he stepped closer to Emma and she did the same, cutting some of the distance between them considerably as she smiled up at him.

“Looks that way, yeah,” Emma quipped, but then something flashed across her gorgeous face and Killian didn’t want to ignore it. Whatever that thought had been he had to know because he felt in his gut it was important.

“What is it, Emma?” he asked, his voice dipping lower as his hand came to hold her hip and the other came to take the hand he’d been holding off and on all evening.

“Nothing. It’s just the way you are with Henry, in the diner and now here… you’re really good at this, Killian. At all of it.”

Emma’s words of praise hit him right in the chest, giving him a confidence Killian didn’t want to simply take for granted. All of this with Emma, the growing bond, the feeling of connection, it was something to be earned not expected, and so it meant all the more to him to have Emma say things like this. Her assessment was truly the only that mattered and if in her eyes he was succeeding and doing things right than that was all Killian could hope for.

“To be frank, love, I’m going on instinct. This – what we’re doing – I don’t have anything to compare it to. It’s in a league all it’s own, and I wasn’t expecting to find so much when I found this place. All I know is that since we have this chance, I want to do things right, and that includes doing my best for Henry too.”

The look on Emma’s face when he said those words was something Killian wanted to commit to memory forever. With her eyes casting light from the lamp above amongst the flecks of green and blue and her lips curved up into a smile that was at once beautiful and seductive and also impossibly sweet, she was heaven itself. In truth it was overwhelming. His words really hadn’t even given the feelings that Emma evoked in him or their newness in his world justice, but clearly they’d been enough because the next thing he knew Emma was pulling him down for a kiss that made all the patience of this evening more than worth it.

For a blissful moment in time everything else faded away between them, leaving nothing but that same spark of light and intrigue and want between them, and yet, even if Killian would have liked to linger there for hours with Emma, it wasn’t to be, at least not tonight. For tonight Henry was here (as he should be) and all Killian and Emma could have was one fleeting ‘mushy’ moment to tide them over until their next opportunity came. That didn’t mean, however, that Killian wasn’t tempted to give into his desires when he pulled back from the kiss and saw Emma looking flushed and more than eager to repeat that transcendent performance.

“I guess this is the part where we call it an end to the evening and I tell you I can hardly wait until morning.”

Emma smiled at that, running her hand across his chest before pressing one final soft kiss against his lips and stepping back. That left Killian to take the hint and head for his own front door, but before he could get very far, Emma called out to him again, helping to ease the ache in his heart that had settled in with the official ending of the night.

“Killian?” He turned back not sure what to expect but feeling completely overwhelmed at what she laid before him. “I’m really glad you found us. Or well, you know, Storybrooke I mean.”

That last bit was an afterthought clearly, and Killian could tell that Emma had meant what she said at first. She’d given a lot away with that slip, but damn if it didn’t feel good to hear it because he felt the same way. Nothing had ever come close to this sensation of being right where he was meant to be, and Killian knew the credit for that had to go to Emma and her boy who both inspired new ideas of what life might bring if he was lucky enough to get it.

“So am I, Emma.”

And with that final vow, Emma headed back inside, wishing him a goodnight and leaving Killian with the sense that things were progressing exactly as they should be and that where they were headed was a place so much better than he could ever imagine.

Post-Note: So first and foremost I want to thank all you guys for the love and the support so far with this story. Seeing your feedback has been awesome and I am glad so many of you are enjoying this new little journey with me. As for the future of this fic I have quite a few more chapters planned out and over the course of the next few installments we are getting some critical things including that talk I hinted at before between Killian and David, the harvest festival/full moon ritual, the earning of the story’s M rating, and the eventual magical reveal so to speak. Anyway thank you all so much for reading and I hope you have a great rest of your day!

#captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #cs fic #cs modern au #cs fluff #cs ff #cs mc #cs au #emma swan #killian jones #the meddling friends #henry #ouat au #some call it magic #some call it magic au #some call it 7 #real world magic au

[shadowofhapiness]

Shards Of Ice (18/20)

Summary: When princess Anna finds herself gifted a personal slave for her twentieth birthday, her life changes, as she becomes fascinated with the broken girl she’s been given as a servant. Discovering her present’s supernatural abilities and how she was forced to conceal them, Anna just might be able to help Elsa heal, offering her the one thing she’d always been denied, love. [Elsanna]

AN: A bit of a premature resolution to the angst at the end there, but I’m hoping to fit that in to the next chapter. In the meantime, here’s a lot of panic and Anna realizing what type of a life she really wants (hint, it doesn’t really involve a crown ;)). 

Rated: T

Word Count: ~ 5.300 words (~ 84.600 total)

Fanfiction.net - Archive Of Our Own

Reconciliation

The revelation of their trusted neighbour’s betrayal had been very quick to send the rest of the room into a panicked frenzy, everyone’s cries of outrage trying to outmatch their neighbors all the while Westleton himself looked rather miserable, as he kept his face down from where he awkwardly stood, under her father’s wrathful gaze. Anna didn’t really pity him though, for while she was usually the one full of compassion and understanding towards those who had happened to wrong her in some way, the old man had tried to murder her and get away with it by framing Prince Hans for his crime (or so he said), and the utter lack of honesty and common decency of simply expressing remorse over his action were really disheartening to someone like herself, who had been brought up   in an environment where honor counted among the highest of qualities a person of noble lineage should display. So no, Anna wasn’t really letting her tendency for compassion come in to play this time around.

Besides, while by no means did she want the man dead (such customs were, after all, barbaric, and held no place in Arendelle), the Duke of Westleton wasn’t really what she was worried about right now anyway.

The momentary outburst did seem to have thankfully drawn most of the guests’ attention, and it was now, as her eyes roamed frantically over the crown, that Anna noticed a mop of blonde hair to be noticeably absent, realizing that Elsa must have taken advantage of the momentum to  run off without anybody on her heels. She felt a pang dig in her chest as it sunk in –that Elsa was gone, that the older girl had felt the need to flee out of fear of what might happen to her, and that Anna hadn’t even seen her leave- well aware that if she didn’t find her now, that if she didn’t take it into her own hands to do something, she might have just lost her forever.

No. She’d very nearly let her slip away once, and she had learnt from that mistake, Anna wasn’t about to let that happen again.

With a newfound resolve, she pushed her chair back, discreetly slipping out of the seat by the side, and sliding to the other side of the table without anybody noticing her (not that it was difficult, what with everybody too caught up on trying to get to Westleton in the middle of the room). She made it to the far wall, slowly but surely edging towards the door and inevitable freedom that came along with passing the threshold, and spared a thought for both her parents, and Hans, who no doubt were going to have a hard time trying to calm things down in the most diplomatic way possible. Were she not so desperate, she probably would have stayed by their side, as the dutiful heir to Arendelle and role she officially held, however, Anna had slowly begin to realize and accept that she had other priorities elsewhere (and perhaps it was selfish to go after something that only made her happy as opposed to something benefiting the entire kingdom, but dammit, she knew what sacrificing her personal feelings for duty meant, and she knew that she could not go through with it again. She would always love the people of Arendelle fiercely, but they could never compete with the place Elsa had taken in her heart).

Picking up the hem of her suddenly, too bulky and now suffocating dress, Anna cast spared a last glance at the chaotic scene before turning away.

Closing the door to the noise after stepping over the threshold and leaving the dining room hellhole behind her was an instant relief, as the noise seemed to diminish to noting more than distant echoes of dissatisfaction and mild anger, nothing she was entangled with any longer. Escaping the thousands of pairs of eyes constantly riveted on her also lifted a certain weight from her shoulders, Anna now feeling lighter than she’d felt all evening, finding it easier to breathe as she was now sheltered from the prying gazes. This was freedom , this was what Anna wished she belonged to, not the life of luxury where one had no choice but to accept the lot they were given along with the superfluous customs and traditions, and most importantly, where the matters of the heart had no say (matters Anna desperately hoped she might have the fortune of attending to and repairing now that the choice of renouncing the crown was pretty much official for her).

“Milday?”

Anna almost jumped as she registered the concerned voice, her heart lurching in her chest momentarily before settling down once she realized that it was only the friendly old maid, Misses Gerda. The poor woman seemed to be quite confused judging by the way she was looking at her, her graying eyebrows were drawn and she seemed to be eying her critically. “Is everything all right in there, Miss?”

It wasn’t as if Anna could really tell her with certitude, the whole situation behind those doors was nothing but short of a confused chaos her parents were probably doing their best to appease with the help of Prince Hans or Oleg, wherever he was in the ocean of guests. “I-I’m not too sure. It has something to do with the duke of Westleton I think.” However, like she had decided moments before, the duke wasn’t her priority, and now a little more antsy about getting to the more pressing task at hand, Anna laid a pair of urgent hands on the woman’s frail shoulders. “But Gerda, he’s not important right now, my parents can deal with him. I need to know though –Have you seen Elsa? She-she ran out here not even a minute ago. I need to know, do you have any idea where she went? Did you by any chance see her at all on your way here?”

“Um, I don’t think so, it was only me here. I’m very sorry Miss Anna. Is there a problem?”

Yes. Yes, and a very big one at that.

Namely that Elsa had been here moments ago and that not, she was gone.

Pushing past the woman (and hoping that she had not been too harsh, for she was but a frail old lady) and making a mental note to come back and apologize later, once everything would be settled down (Anna would bring her a batch of cookies if necessary, she’d even make them herself if that was what it took to make amends), Anna took off down he decorated hall, the numerous portraits’ gazes boring holes in her back as past them by, their eyes almost judging her on having taken so long to finally make a decision about what kind of future she actually wanted for herself and coming to realize that it very much included Elsa by her side. Because for all that she understood the other woman’s presumed need to flee, the sheer possibility that Elsa’s decision to do so under stress and panic could very well had lead the other girl to run away forever was simply too drastic an option for Anna to even consider for a minute.

And so as she ran, Anna liked to think that they would both, perhaps be able to talk it through, come to an understanding between them with words, patience and rationality rather than let the heat of the moment incite them to make decisions they both might regret later. Despite the unwanted situation, Anna remained slightly optimistic, keeping her fingers crossed in the hopes that she could make Elsa understand that she was now ready for both of them to go forward again, and to swear on her honor  that there would be absolutely no setbacks this time. This was her one chance to let Elsa know that she truly wanted her back, that she believed in the possibility of a future they could share by each other’s side, and that together, she had every faith that they would pull through. Because Anna had understood how miserable the lack and errors of communication that had passed through them had made them, and was now vowing to never let that happen again. They both deserved something to look forward to, something they could build, hand in hand from this day on.

However, if she was hoping to mend the bridge, Anna knew she had to do so now, that she had to take that initiative herself for she knew that Elsa certainly wouldn’t dare. And it was rather ironic, how she was the one desperate to do all the talking now when it was her lack of words and explanations that had practically landed them in this situation. Back then, she simply hadn’t quite anticipated just how much the notion of losing Elsa would mean to her, she hadn’t understood it until waking up alone in the middle of the night, with too much pressure on her shoulders and anxiety in her stomach. Until she would brush her hair in the morning and look into the mirror and feel the noticeable –once so familiar- absence over her right shoulder, until she would itch her hand slightly to the left at breakfast, expecting long and delicate fingers to entangle with hers only to be met with a devastating sense of emptiness when it didn’t happen, until she would politely accept Gerda sneaking her in a box of chocolates and have to eat them by herself because the one person she’d learnt to share them with and make such a tiny gesture something special was no longer by her side.

They were small things, probably insignificant to others, but they meant the world to Anna, and meant much more to her than a golden crown or a life of luxury ever would.

That sense of understanding, of equality at having finally found the one person who could see her beyond the pompous-sounding title of Princess Anna, and knowing that she was possibly on the verge of losing it right at this moment was what sent her heart racing as she dashed down the corridor, throwing the doors open to empty room after empty room and her thumping heartbeat drowning out so loud, she could almost believe it was a distraction from it beginning to break.

Please, please don’t go Elsa! I’m so sorry, for everything! I have to make it up to you!

It was as she rounded the corner to yet another empty hallway that Anna came to a sudden stop, out of breath. Leaning on the wall for a moment, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, drowning out the echoes from the Hall, trying to think this through rationally.

All right, keep it cool Anna, you’re way more level headed than this. You know Elsa wouldn’t just leave like that without telling you anything first, she can’t possibly have gone far.

And no, Anna could say with certainty that Elsa wouldn’t just run away without sparing her any last words first. She hadn’t when Anna had (stupidly, she would admit now, without realizing the extent of the consequences it would have on them) put a sudden end to what they had shared together by putting her foot down and literally stomping out the broken remains of what might be left behind. While she hoped that it was not too late to work to get those remains put back together, getting into a frenzy over it right now certainly wasn’t going to help anybody, least of all herself or Elsa, whom Anna knew needed her to reach out to her now more than ever. She had no doubts that if the duke of Westleton’s men got their hands on the blonde before she did, then the prospects of Elsa and herself building a future together certainly weren’t going to be looking very good, for she doubted quite strongly that the man behind the attempted murder on her person would be inclined to show himself merciful towards the one person who had saved her.

First things first though, and that was to try and pinpoint where exactly Elsa could possibly have chosen to hide. Had the blonde been caught in the corridor, she either would have heard it or Elsa would probably have been dragged back to the Great Hall by the guards. Given that it hadn’t been the case, Anna could only hope that it meant that she had managed to flee without being noticed –which Anna hoped gave her an advantage over anybody else looking for her. Knowing Elsa better than anyone, she dared to think that she might have a better chance at finding her first (which was a relief, the mere thought of Westleton’s men getting their hands on her did not raise good prospects). Anna had no doubt that after several months inside the castle, that Elsa had learnt of more than one little place often overlooked by the rest of the servants where she could take refuge in (Anna had too for that matter, especially as a child, when trying to run away after making a game out of distressing her poor caretakers, making many of their hairs turn grey before their time). However, with so many of such places to chose form ,that now left Anna with a slight dilemma, which one could Elsa possibly have picked?

Avoiding proximity with the Great Hall was obvious, so she would not have hidden behind in any of the other rooms lining the corridor, it made little sense if keeping her distance was what Elsa had in mind. Leaving the castle all together was another decision she quickly ruled out: with the main entrance doors the only ones open to the outer world tonight, she would have to pass in front of palace guards and the few guests that might not have made it to the ceremony in time and explain herself to them, not the best option for someone on the run.

As she past the stairs leading to the first floor, her bedroom immediately came to mind and in the momentum, she darted up the first flight, foot almost touching the step of the second one before she paused, brought to a sudden halt as brute reality crushed her little fantasy. While her bedroom was certainly not a place anybody would think of searching (much less do so behind her back, those chambers were after all, very much private and not something Anna wished to share with the people of neighbouring kingdoms) and it was a place nobody was standing guard at right at this moment, her bedroom had been a place-

Had.

It had been.

Her bedroom had been a place that had been meaningful to the pair of them once upon a time, Anna realized with a sudden pang of sadness. She had cherished –still did- the memories both she and Elsa had shared and created there, sheltered from the outer world’s prying eyes. They had helped her keep going forward, had been something she’d taken comfort in re-living every night when she returned to her empty bed as she tried to re-create that same feeling that had so easily bloomed between them. But the truth was, her bedroom no longer was that place anymore, it had ceased to be so when Anna had let the words ending what Elsa and herself had been tumble out of her mouth without grasping the consequences, and now once again realizing the sheer depth of what she was losing (because it was no longer just Elsa, it was a whole life they had shared together and so much more) sent a new stab of pain deep in her chest.

Well, Elsa, it seems like you’ve run off with a big part of who I am there.

Not that Anna particularly minded. If Elsa wished to keep a token of the brief relationship she’d had with Anna, the princess found herself more than willing to give it up despite the inevitable pain it might have brought upon her own person. It was the least she could offer. It was rather ironic how their initial separation aimed at keeping Anna from holding on to something (someone) that might interfere with her capacity at perfecting her new identity as Queen of Arendelle was now resulting in Elsa running away, forever in possession of a piece of the Princess that would never be brought back.

Perhaps she was only now noticing it because of how seamlessly and easy and so completely natural it had been to let Elsa in that it was taking her leaving for the whole extent of the problem to be unveiled.

Except that Anna wasn’t about to let her leave. Or at the very least, not without talking it through with her first (if Elsa wanted to leave, well that was her right, Anna would never dare to oppose that. It would be wrong of her to seek to do as such, not something befitting of a princess supposed to uphold values such as making one’s choices and freedom), at least understand why Elsa thought running away was for the best when Anna was practically certain that something could be managed to ensure she stay, and if Westleton or anybody else dared oppose her on this, well Anna guessed she just needed to fight them and make them understand that she simply couldn’t go through with losing Elsa a second time.

Resolve and anticipation were all well and good, but that didn’t help her in any way actually find the older girl though, and Anna’s stomach truly did feel like a pack of uncomfortable knots when reaching the end of the next corridor and finding each room to be empty yielded yet again in disappointment.

All right, well Elsa had obviously chosen to keep away from the living quarters too then. Adding to that the Hall and main entrance where she was unlikely to be too seemed to be logical though: she was avoiding places where she could be easily found, meaning that Elsa was probably somewhere nobody would think of looking into and somewhere where there would be little passage at this hour.

And since the chefs and numerous cooks had already rolled in the dessert trays over half an hour ago before joining the festivities themselves –as was normal, they deserved to reap the product of their hard labor- that left the kitchens likely to be empty, and unlikely to be searched. (Did the Duke of Westleton even know where they were anyway?)

It was a big gamble, one that would possibly yield nothing but disappointment, but after reasoning it through, Anna opted to give it a try, and without giving it a second thought, she dashed down the hall, her footsteps now echoing along the way as her lone figure seemed to be the only one to pass through. (At least that made reaching the cooking quarters that much quicker).

The door was closed when she finally got there, the comforting smell of familiar lingering food still seeping through the slip beneath, and she guessed that the cooks must have not yet begun their tidying up yet (not that she blamed them at all, they were entitled to have a rest and enjoy the festivities.). The lingering odor of roasted mutton and rich sauce along with the amazing chocolate sauce Kristoff had been set to help with for the dessert were all unmistakable, and were she not in such dire circumstances, Anna probably would have let herself daydream a little, imagining herself going through such a feast a second time.

Instead, she pushed the door gently, the creaking almost resonating throughout the empty room. The first thing that she noticed was the absolute mess the utensils were in, with empty pots littered across the big table, some with spoons and knives still in them, while next to them lay halves of tomatoes, carrots and other accompaniments that must not have been used after all. The obvious intense labour that had gone in to making this evening something to remember on parts of the cooks did not go unnoticed by the princess, who made a mental note to thank them profusely for their hard work later.

Shutting the door behind her then made Anna increasingly aware of the utter silence that loomed over the place, so unlike the norm, where the kitchens were usually buzzing with life and activity. Seeing everything so still, so devoid of purpose and abandoned in favor of taking a well-earned part in the continuing festivities upstairs now that their role had been filled for the evening, it was almost surreal to see what was left. The sheer size of what had been used to entertain the guests and see to have them well fed was also something Anna wasn’t used to seeing, for it was not often that such an event was hosted at Arendelle castle, and getting a peek at the people working in the shadows of such a luxurious ceremony truly was eye-opening into the hardships they must have gone through.

“Elsa?” She asked over a pile of pots dangerously close to tipping over. “Elsa, are you in here?”

No answer. Anna swallowed, hard. Surely she couldn’t be gone?

“Elsa? It’s Anna-“ Oh no, she could feel her voice wavering slightly, the carefully crafted mask she was to bear to the public slowly crumbling to pieces right in front of her as this complete sense of loss kept growing as the silence kept on. “Elsa please, if you’re here, please answer me. I need-I need to-“

Need to what? Tell her she was sorry? That she’d come here to apologize when it was possibly too late already? Tell her that despite her mistakes, that she still wanted her back? That she was ready to begin something special with her from scratch once again?

If only things were so simple.

While she’d been thinking up a hundred ways to tell Elsa how utterly sorry she was for what had happened, she’d failed to entertain the thought that maybe the possibility of rebuilding what they had wasn’t really up to her, that perhaps, Elsa ought to be the one to chose whether or not she wanted to re-ignite the flame they’d made grow together.

And it was now that she found herself in an empty kitchen (of all places) that it was truly dawning on her. She could tell the other woman she was sorry (she would, and Anna didn’t think there were enough words in their common language to truly  express the sorrow and regret at her single mistake) until she had cried her eyes out and rendered her throat raw for all she wished, it wasn’t up to her. Anna had taken that decision away from Elsa the evening she’d thought it was for the best should they permanently separate, it was only just that Elsa get all the cards in her hand this time around.

“Elsa, are you there?” Her voice sounded meek all of a sudden, the weight of the looming conversation she was to have with the blonde hanging over her shoulder, an ever-present reminder of what she could lose were Elsa to make the choice to truly end things once and for all.

A few moments of tense silence and several heartbeats later, Anna got her answer from behind the stove in the middle of the room.

“Anna?” The small voice, so familiar and so welcomed had Anna’s shoulders sag in relief at the fact that she’d actually found Elsa, that at least, the other girl hadn’t run off and that the now had a chance to talk things through. “Anna, is that you?”

A sliver of hope, it’s almost too good to be true, and Anna almost lunges forward in an attempt to latch on to her, of a mind that if she can physically touch her, take hold of her, then she wouldn’t go. Instead, however, years of approaching things rationally and knowing of the importance of not acting on impulse, Anna stays there, rooted to the ground, has to force herself not to move out of fear that doing so would undo whatever spell this was.

“Yes, I… Elsa I… I need to… I don’t-“ And just like that, the words fail her. Fail her when Anna is usually the one to have an abundant stock of them for her use (sometimes even too many, as was often the topic of jokes around family dinners), and now that she needs them oh so much, the words fail her, the princess failing to find the ones capable of conveying the exact depth of emotions she wants Elsa to know.  “I need to talk to you.” That’s it, that’s all she manages, and Anna is aware that if she’s trying to win Elsa back, her poor wording is probably not doing her any favours.

Damn it.

“I-I now you probably don’t want to see me right now, I’m probably the last person you possibly want to talk to,” She laughs nervously, unsure of where she’s actually going with this, “but… But I need to talk to you. I know you might not care at this point, you’re perfectly entitled to of course, but I needed to tell you something, before you might decide to leave.”

From behind the counter, she can see thin fingers gripping the edge, the surface turning into a shade of icy blue beneath them. Were she not walking on a thin line, she would have been over there in a second, would be telling Elsa that it was okay, maybe even give her a hug (or a kiss, no that was over now) and offer her hot chocolate to help her calm down. But despite the kiss they had shared only minutes before, Anna still felt like things had changed. The only thing she wasn’t sure of was how they had changed.

“I-I screwed up, I know that now, and no apologies from me will ever be enough to tell you how sorry I am for it all. I… I guess I should have talked to you first, I can see that now, but it’s just… This whole become-the-queen thing my parents wanted me to do, that I thought I wanted to do, it’s been something that has ruled my life from the moment I was born, it was something I have always been expected to take up one day. It’s something I always thought I wanted.

Funnily enough, I truly did think it was the future I was meant for until I actually decided to go for it. Please believe me, Elsa, these past weeks without have been the most miserable of my entire life. I thought the crown was what I had always wanted, and only realised that I was running after an illusion when I lost the most precious thing I’d already had without even realizing it.”

At that, Anna saw Elsa’s head peek out from behind the counter and their eyes locked in a moment of silence, a moment where Anna’s body took the last few steps between them of its own volition and she suddenly found herself crouching down in front of the other girl. The look she was giving her, however, was not something Anna could read, and the little ball of anxiety in her chest grew as she apprehended Elsa’s response.

“I…” She looked down then, unable to hold the intensity of the other girls’ gaze, instead tentatively locking their hands together on Elsa’s knees, a familiar gesture she almost sobbed at finding again, “I truly am sorry Elsa. I promise that I won’t ever make the same mistake again. You are my happy ending, you being happy is enough for me, and I promise you that no crowns, kingdoms or other trivialities of the kind will ever make me commit such a mistake again. I’m ready to fully give up the crown of Arendelle, if you wish to have me back, that is.”

Aware that the decision was entirely up to her now made Elsa nervous, for of all the confrontations between herself and Anna, this certainly wasn’t what she had expected. On the one hand, she could feel her chest bubbling with excitement at the thought of igniting the flame she had thought extinguished for good not that long ago, but on the other hand, the remaining anxiety at the possibilities of such unfortunate circumstances pulling them apart again (ones Anna might not entirely be able to counter by herself) was still there nevertheless, to anchor them in the real world, one where both of them had learnt that the matters of the heart did not always come out on top.

However, the earnest expression in the princesses’ eyes, the way her breath seemed to have stopped as she waited for her answer and both of their thundering heartbeats echoing in the empty kitchen almost made it easier. Anna didn’t have to say anything for Elsa to see that, while the world might be against them, the brunette was still determined to fight to keep them together, and that… Well surely that was enough for them to last, right?

“You would… You really would want to leave the crown behind for me?”

The sincere nod and lack of words that followed, Anna demonstrating with a gesture that she was truly committed to stand by her decision were enough to reel Elsa back in without the blonde feeling like she was doing this out of some sense of obligation. Anna wanted this, but Elsa wanted this too, she hadn’t given up on remaining on good terms with Anna after their brief separation and she wasn’t about to do so now either.

Instead, she mirrored Anna’s widening grin, giving her partner the biggest one she could manage, and, hands on both of her shoulders, pulled her in for the sweetest kiss she could ever dream of, heart fluttering madly in her chest and tightening her hands into the other’s gown so as to not let her go, ever. This was the start of their future, right now, sealed with a kiss as a promise to be forever by each other’s side.

Perhaps kissing in the kitchens wasn’t the most romantic of places, but as they pulled apart and Anna raised an eyebrow, asking, “What do you think about celebrating with a box of chocolates, I think Gerda often hides some in the second press to the right.” And the mischievous wink that followed along with Anna taking hold of her hand (both fitting as perfectly together as they had the first time), had Elsa finally feeling like this was home once again. That despite the little mishaps they’d had along the way, they had made their amends, and now had a bright day ahead of them, together.

The box of chocolates certainly didn’t last long.

Later sharing them on Anna’s bed, both of them recreating a sense of an almost-lost intimacy and lighting the spark of love between them into something akin to a blazing flame all the while they both giggled and laughed in each others’ arms, well away from the ever scrutinizing gaze of the high nobility, was only the first little moment they subsequently learnt to treasure all over again.

Not that they were in any haste, Anna’s decision now more than clear and the pair of them having come to a mutual understanding and choice to take things slowly, actually take the time to truly appreciate the little things that made being together so special, was something they were both looking very much forward to exploring in the near future.

#Meghan writes #Shards of Ice

[dramionee]

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A Marriage Most Convenient: M. Hermione lost it all when she divorced. Draco would lose it all by age 30 if he didn't marry. Marriage to each other would be perfect, one would even say it was most convenient. Her daughter even looked like him, although, he wondered why that was.

Mine: M. Hermione Granger is a single mother. The last thing she needed was to get involved with anyone, especially Draco Malfoy. Love however, has other plans.

Mudbloods For Sale: M. What if the Golden Trio took too long to hunt down the horcruxes? What if Voldemort got a strong hold in the Wizard World and his ideals began to spread? What if owning mudbloods became the new trend? (Warning: implied rape and violence)

A Muggle-born Magic: MA. Physician’s daughter Hermione Granger finds herself in need of a way to pay off her father’s debts after his death. Draco Malfoy, retired from the politics of the Isolationists, a group of pure-bloods bent on separating 'true’ magic from lesser folk, finds himself in need of a tutor for his son, Scorpius, who appears to be incapable of magic and must learn to survive in a world without it. Draco also needs a wife and mother for Scorpius, to satisfy a promise to his unwell father. After she saves his son from an attack by Isolationists, Draco hires the Muggle-born Miss Granger for the former, and after a riot in Vauxhall Gardens and a scandalous discovery made by his mother, weds that selfsame Muggle-born for the latter. While making the best of her marriage of (in)convenience, Hermione discovers that Scorpius’ history of wild imaginings and dreams is more than just imagination. As she attempts to teach him about magical abilities no one expected he would ever have, she and Draco work together to raise Scorpius and learn to trust each other.

Ninety-Five Percent: M. A new Wizarding Marriage Law has come into effect and Hermione takes her chance with the Ministry and lets them decide who would be the best match for her. Who would ever believe that Draco Malfoy would be her best match with a 95% Compatibility?

Relationship Status: Pending: M. Hermione Granger is edging thirty, accident prone and haplessly single. One night, she decides it would be humourous (and hilariously masochistic) to timeline her failed relationships in a memoir. From losing her v-card in a broom closet, to hooking up in a public loo, to ruining her best friend’s wedding - she’s done it all.

The Request: M. Astoria was never a fan of Hermione Granger, but pretty soon, she would be gone, and Draco was going to need all the help he could get.

Ride or Die: M. The Death Eaters are an outlaw motorcycle club run by Tom Riddle, a notoriously ruthless leader who gradually works the brotherhood into high stakes criminal activity after the death of their previous president. Draco Malfoy is heir to the throne, but his life abruptly changes when fate lands him in the hands of a young doctor who is about to get in way over her head. Dramione, Muggle AU.

Seven for a Secret: MA. Draco celebrated Beltane with a woman whose face he never saw. Eight years later, he meets a little boy whose face is a match for his.

Squirm: M. Draco Malfoy falls into a strange obsession with Hermione Granger. But it's a risk -he holds a dark, sinister secret, and if he becomes too close, she just might find out what it is.

Switch: MA. It was only supposed to be one night - a set-up with a hot guy at a fetish club in Muggle London for some mind-blowing, no-strings-attached sex where Hermione would play the submissive role. However, when her amazingly skilled and sensual partner, Draco Malfoy, kept sending her tickets and roses to return to the club to meet again and again, how could a single, sexually-experimental girl say 'no’? Hermione’s about to learn the hard way that the sins of the flesh can prove to be too tempting for the body - and the heart - to resist.

Teardrops & Teacups: MA. Forced to end her relationship with Draco because of a betrothal contract, Hermione launches herself into her work. She spends the next four years traveling the world researching, interviewing, and working towards eradicating all the remaining Pureblood laws that still seem to dictate the Wizarding World even after all this time. In the process, Hermione battles inner demons and learns more about herself than she ever could have imagined.

Through The Window, We Go: M. (for language) When Draco Malfoy, a suburban thug with nothing better to do than cause trouble and run from the police, climbs through his next door neighbor’s window in hopes of hiding away he finds himself dodging thrown books and accusations from a very disgruntled Hermione Granger. And, despite heated arguments over right and wrong, Draco is tempted to steal Hermione’s heart away.

Trusting Malfoy: M. Hermione’s memories are gone. Fearing everyone, including Harry and Ron, Hermione finds herself drawn to Draco Malfoy, trusting him to keep her safe and help her recover her memories. Draco teams up with Harry and Ron in finding the culprit behind everything. Times have definitely changed! 

A Wonderful Caricature of Intimacy: M. Draco loves his son more than anything in the world. So, when his ex-wife plans to take his son away, Draco asks the most unlikely person for help. Hermione must decide whether changing her entire life is worth helping the man she hates unconditionally.

#dramione #the rec list no one asked for #dramione fic recs #I usually only read rated M #I've read all of these and approve of all of them #I'll add on whenever I find something worthy #updated

[saramck]

25 Days He’d Rather Forget (Preview)

Okay so since I’m chomping at the bit to show you guys that I AM INDEED WORKING ON THIS, here’s the first few pages of @mryddinwilt‘s Christmas prompt: you’re the person in the apartment next door who VERY LOUDLY blasts holiday music starting in NOVEMBER and i hate christmas au

Killian Jones had never formally met his neighbor in A12, but she had a broom that smelled like fucking cinnamon hanging on her front door so she was clearly delusional.

She’d just moved in at the end of August, and up until now, had been a much better neighbor than the previous tenants. She kept to herself, didn’t have loud parties at all hours of the day and night, and didn’t make the entire apartment block smell like weed.

But then she started with the singing. And not just any singing, but horrifically bad singing. Like tone-deaf and not aware of it horrifically bad singing. And if she’d been singing anything other than holiday related music, he could’ve overlooked it.

But A12 sang nothing but loud and completely off-key Christmas music. And it grated on Killian’s nerves. A lot.

And if the concept of advent calendars hadn’t already been tainted, he would’ve made an alcohol fueled version with a new bottle of rum for every torturous day he had to suffer through.

(Now that was a warped tradition he could get behind.)

It was quite literally the nightmare before Christmas - and then some.

(Because, you see, bad stuff happens regardless of the date on the calendar. Tragedy knows no holiday.)

Killian Jones vs. Christmas - it was a battle he’d won for the past few years. And he certainly wasn’t going to let his obnoxious neighbor ruin his hot streak now.

On this particular Saturday, she’d caught him in an extremely bad mood. So he did what any friendly neighbor would do: he banged on the wall with his prosthetic hook and shouted “It’s not Christmas, it’s barely December!” through the thin drywall separating their kitchens.

Alright - so maybe that wasn’t exactly friendly. But it did get his point across and it felt damn good to boot.

And when A12 pounded right back, twice as hard and twice as long, Killian’s frown turned into something resembling an amused grimace.

That kook next door did wonders to improve his mood.

Well, the rum helped too.

Day 1

Killian paused outside of his doorway and watched with satisfaction as A12 struggled with a malfunctioning string of lights. From his vantage point it looked as if only half of the string was working - surely this was karmic payback for the torture she’d put him through over the weekend.

“I think your lights are broken,” Killian noted smugly as he tucked his left hand, or rather his multi-functional hook, into his leather jacket. He wasn’t really in the mood for the lingering, pitiful looks his hook was sure to draw.

“I think your spirit is broken,” his neighbor fired off as she kept her back turned away from him. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and, even from behind, he could tell she was wearing a sweater associated with that holiday.

Killian tried to deflect from her (very accurate) comment by doing what he did best - antagonizing. “So you can speak! And here I thought the only way you communicated was through a series of shrill shrieks put to music.”

A12 made a noise of disgruntled annoyance and rose from her crouched position, abandoning the string of lights in the process. Killian could practically feel her silently counting to ten.

He wasn’t quite done messing with her yet, so he quickly added, “My cat is a huge fan of yours, by the way. The wailing coming through the wall really drives him mad with lust. I’m surprised you can’t hear him howling in response.”

His neighbor turned around, her face a delightful mixture of embarrassment and carefully calculated rage. Her sweater was truly horrendous - it had a tacky clump of Christmas trees on it. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Killian Jones,” he replied with a satisfied smile. Who knew pissing off his devastatingly attractive neighbor could bring him so much joy? “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Oh, it’s Killian, is it?” A12 laughed bitterly as she crossed her arms. “And here I thought your name was Ebenezer Scrooge.”

"You wound me, love."

"If you want a wound," she challenged as she took a step closer to Killian, "I'd be more than happy to give you one."

"Oh really?" Killian challenged, his mood lightening considerably. "You gonna sing me to death or something?"

Her eyes flashed as she threatened, "I know karate."

"Having once seen the film Karate Kid doesn't count, I'm afraid."

“Do you always harass your neighbors like this? Or am I just a special case?”

“Oh, you’re special alright,” Killian grinned as his eyes focused on the angry vein emerging on her forehead.

A12 eyed the bottle of rum tucked under his arm as she took another step closer. Killian was starting to get a little nervous.

“You know what else is special?” she asked as she grabbed the unopened bottle from Killian’s loose grasp and stepped back. “Generosity. I accept your apology and this peace offering.”

No one had rendered him speechless in quite a long while. Who was this woman?

More importantly, when could they do this again?

"Well, this has been really nice and all," she smiled as she turned towards her partially open front door and reached down to unplug the lights from an outdoor electrical outlet, "but I've got better things to do."

Killian watched in silence as A12 kicked her discarded lights through her doorway and stepped inside. He managed to find his voice right before she slammed the door and called out, “I don’t even know your name!”

“Emma,” she responded as she stuck her head through the crack in the doorway. “Now kindly fuck off.”

Killian had never been more turned on in his entire life.

Hope you guys enjoyed this little preview!

#cs ff #cs au #cs christmas #fic preview #also i'm hoping this gets me back into a writing mood #because I SO DESPERATELY NEED TO FINISH SETTLE ON DOWN WITH ME #we've reached the critical stage on that one #anyway #sara writes fic #25 days he'd rather forget

[cookiesonline-blog]

Sweeten Up Your Day with The Best Cookies Online Today

Why don’t we light up our loved ones’ day with new unexpected gifts? Bouquets of flowers are always expected and it comes with a little surprise of late. Let’s try something new, like edible flour instead of mundane flowers. One of the most accepted and appreciated gifts worldwide is a bouquet of cookies. Though flowers and chocolates make gifts for your loved one, it will be very cool to live him or her with a long lasting sweet impression. 

Cookie bouquets can be presented at all occasions, from independence day to birthdays, baby showers, weddings and it could even be presented to a sick friend. People flock to their favorite cookie online shop to place on such special occasions. 

The cookie bouquet business is booming, as customers keep coming back for more. We, online retailers, are constantly conceptualizing the next creative masterpiece for their customers to genuinely express their appreciation through gift giving. Here you will find our line of unique cookies. From unique shaped cookies and flavors to an array of usable gift items nestled in the bouquet, the creative possibilities are endless. 

After you choose the best cookie gift, simply add a personalized note (which most online cookie shops will allow), and that's it! Within days, a nice bouquet of cookies will be delivered. Don't be surprised if you receive a phone call asking for more of those cookies! 

As been said, anything can be a gift. After all, it is the thought that counts more than the value or the price. That alone gives the assurance that online cookie gifts can indeed be a really good gift. Apart from that major point, online cookie gifts have many other characteristics that make them get ahead over other things that can be given. The first one is that they can be easily obtained as others are doing the baking in your stead. This is just one perfect reason to order cookies if you are not into baking. 

The second characteristic that gives online cookie gifts an edge is that they can be distinct in so many ways. There is no doubt that that cookies can be found in all grocery stores but you can never find one in a bouquet or basket arrangement with designs for a specific occasion or holiday. With online cookie stores, you can have a lot of options to choose from for every occasion. You can even have it custom made based on your own specific design or concept. 

Accessibility of best online cookie stores is the third one that makes online cookie gifts very good gifts. Wherever you are, you can order the bouquet or basket arrangement that you like. There are even some online cookie stores offering free delivery which just simply adds up to the benefit that you can get, just order cookies online at cissys.ca and this spells ease and convenience in your attempt to give an appropriate and special gift. 

With a lot of things to choose from, picking the right gift can be confusing and troublesome. However, with online cookie gifts, you can get this all going with ease and convenience. The emergence of online cookie stores is making it all happen. 

How to store your cookies for them to last longer

Cookies are known to be a food that lasts long. Whether from online cookie stores or from the local bakeries, they are often bought in bulk for this very reason. Even when they are personally produced by others, it is usually in large quantities. 

Let's take for example that you are fond of ordering cookies in bulk. Or in other cases, you bake them yourself in small or large quantities. If what you purchased or baked are not stored in a proper way, surely they will not last long.  You may think long is relative, yes it might be true. so, long, in this case, means as long as you expected or it should last anyway. 

If that happens, you will be just making unnecessary expenses. Though the cookies can well be eaten before they can actually be ruined, the point is that you will not get the full value of what you had paid for, and what if the cookies are just too much to be consumed before molds begin to show just because you haven't covered its jar properly? Then simply, it will all just go to waste along with your money. 

And so to prevent this, proper storage procedures must be implemented. This will help you maintain the quality of the cookies that you had purchased.  Here are few simple tips for storing to serving the cookies; 

Use airtight jars in storing your cookies. An airtight bag will also work just fine. Note that other cookies might require being wrapped and stored individually with wax or foil paper. Mostly, when the cookies are in large quantities, you need to pay extra attention to them. 

Make sure that the cookies and the frosting are cool before setting them in your cookie jar. Even if you order cookies from online cookie stores, checking them if they are indeed cool is definitely a worthy and harmless effort.

Cookies can also be stored frozen. Wrap them well in a wax or foil paper then put them in a tightly sealed container before placing it in a freezer. This will help preserve the cookies' texture and taste. 

To serve frozen cookies, carefully unwrap them and let them warm back to normal temperature. You can also microwave them for faster warming. Either way, you will have to be done before serving them to bring back the natural texture and taste. 

This one tip is applicable only if you bake your own cookies. You can have your cookies last for up to a month if you have it frozen. This will definitely work during busy schedules when you have but a little time to spare in baking.

Labeling your cookie jars and containers will also help. Data is what the cookie type is and the date it was stored are two of the needed information that must be added. 

Cookies, whether you bake them or order them from online cookie stores must be properly stored to lasts longer. Doing so will allow you to enjoy and appreciate their tastes more for a longer period of time. This means is that you will get the full worth of your cash. 

Using quality ingredients and quality bake ware are probably the two most important elements. A lot of bakers will purchase quality brands of ingredients like chocolate chips, coconut, oatmeal, raisins, butter and other important cookie ingredients. Note that cheap ingredients could ruin your cookies. Think about what your image as you online to search for your cookies. What would you enjoy more, a cheap brand x chocolate bar or an expensive top brand chocolate bar? 

Like all lessons in life, you reap what you sow. Cheap ingredients make a boring cookie. Why waste your valuable time and energy buying cookies no one will like, not even yourself. You can taste the difference. Cheap tastes cheap and quality taste like quality. When you purchase brand x Oreo knockoff cookies, do they taste as good as the real thing? I don't think so. 

Your gifts of cookies are a reflection on your baking abilities and I've tasted a lot of really bad cookies in my lifetime. these treats are usually given as a gift from a neighbor with good intentions. During popular times, most people’s homes are filled up with goodies from neighbors and friends. Most of the goodies are cookies. Generally, fifty per cent of the cookies we get is not fit for human consumption. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for the thoughtful gift, but let me make a point. If you take the time to follow a tried and proven cookie recipe and use quality ingredients, how much more enjoyment will come out of your gift.

#Order cookies online

[bernardschweizer1]

Siguniang (3): The Meaning of Life, in a Tibetan Cookie

Somebody once said—I forgot who—that the meaning of life consists in making experiences. I rather like this motto for its (perhaps deceptive) simplicity. By this measure, traveling surely enhances life’s meaning because it acts as a potent multiplier and amplifier of experiences, both good and bad. 

There are many other and perhaps more valid answers to the question about the meaning of life: Leave a legacy… Make a family… Fight for justice… Contribute to the production of knowledge… Increase the amount of love and compassion… Buy a Lamborghini (OK, maybe not the last one). And while I don’t pretend to be living up to all—or even most—of these guidelines, I like to think that I let myself be inspired by some of them. 

Of course, each of these approaches can be disputed, and the “meaning-as-experience” principle is no exception. In today’s world, making experiences often leads to sharing those experiences uninvited, and that, in turn, can lead to negative experiences of others, including envy (did anyone pick up on the veiled Facebook reference here?). Moreover, the “meaning-as-experience” answer can be faulted for being overly self-absorbed i.e. not sufficiently anchored in an ethical stance. One person’s good experience may be obtained at the cost of another person’s bad experience. So, perhaps we should tweak this principle by making it chime with the Golden Rule (“do onto others as you want others do onto you”). It would then go something like this: “The meaning of life consists in making experiences while trying to improve other people’s experiences”? The keyword here is “trying” because obviously we cannot be sure what does and does not constitute a positive experience from the perspective of others. But, still I think the modified guideline is a good start.

I had occasion to test this theory the very next day, along our hike back down from the basecamp to the town of Rilong. About one hour before the end of our hike, we stumbled onto a Tibetan cultural festival. Proceedings were just starting the minute we sat down for a picnic in plain view of the natural “stage.” 

Tens of thousands of people were gathered below us on a lush mountain meadow, attending Tibetan Buddhist rituals that included holy smoke (no pun intended), as fragrant juniper wood was lighted to produce a “smoke offering” to the gods. 

Then, there was choreographed dancing, chanting, and choral singing. We sat there deeply enchanted by this sensory overload, busying ourselves making positive experiences to counterbalance the scary and unpleasant experiences from the previous day. At that moment, I felt distinctly that both kinds of experiences were adding their share to the “meaning-making” process.

After concluding our picnic, we went down and mingled with the Tibetan masses, snapping pictures of the locals in their colorful ethnic garb and listening to their throaty singing. 

Soon enough, the focus of attention began to shift and instead of me snapping pictures of them, the locals began snapping pictures of me. Sichuanese are an outgoing tribe and the Tibetans of Sichuan are perhaps especially outgoing. While I had received requests to take pictures with Chinese before, these Sichuanese raised the game to a whole new level. There was a regular feeding frenzy going on, as more and more people tried to squeeze me into a frame with them. 

It was a fair trade, though: The Tibetans’ colorful ethnicity had added to my store of happy experiences, and now I was adding my little share to the locals’ store of pleasant memories. Call it a wash. When I saw Liang snapping pictures of Tibetans snapping pictures of me, I had a momentary impression of cascading layers of reference, almost in the mode of “Inception.”

What was so enchanting about this whole scene was its completely unplanned nature. We did not even know that there was a Tibetan festival going on, let alone plan our arrival on the field just within minutes of the start of the proceedings. Nor was the weather supposed to be so beautiful. The rain that was predicted to hit here by early afternoon, got stuck somewhere in a neighboring mountain range and kindly waited until 7 pm before it descended upon the scene with thunder and lightning. 

This is another way of saying that the factor of coincidence, chance, luck, or fate plays a major part in both the negative and the positive experiences that we make, something that is especially true when traveling. It is a force not to be taken lightly, and any consideration of the meaning of life needs to be mindful of it. Whatever answer we think we have to the meaning of life question is always subject to being affirmed, suspended, or overturned by circumstances beyond our control.

Maybe that’s what made the Tibetans so joyful and exuberant that day, for their belief in karma puts them in touch with the intangible forces that connected the life on this side with the life on the other side, mitigating blind chance. There is something to be said about a faith that sees the whole of existence and non-existence as interconnected: animals, the weather, plants, actions, past, present, earthly life and the spirit world—all of this is mysteriously connected in the Buddhist philosophy, although attempts to demonstrate exactly how the connection works strain credulity. In any case, it is not one God or one central force that holds all the strings together, which makes that scheme a bit more relatable to me than monotheistic belief systems.

The sense of connectedness was palpable on this mountain meadow in Sichuan, and not only because the ethnic Tibetans kept forming circles to perform their ritual chants. 

Another charming symbol of this connectedness was a Tibetan lady who had scrambled up the steep slope where Liang and I were sitting at our picnic to offer us a cookie each. And when I said “Tashidelek,” the traditional Tibetan greeting, she beamed and put the whole bag of cookies in my hands. For a brief moment in time, our spheres of existence interlocked—I did not ask for a picture with her, she did not ask for a picture with me (or for anything else). We met, we parted, and the only trace left behind was the momentary joy created on both sides. I followed her with my eyes, as she went around the whole mountainside pulling one little baggy of cookies out of her robe after another, offering the sweets to passers-by, some of whom politely declined, while others reluctantly accepted, puzzled by such an uncalled for gesture.

This made me think that instead of pondering the meaning of life, we might as well be more proactive and offer somebody a cookie. Being invited by our Shanghai friend to join his expedition to Siguniang was that cookie. Having his friends sharing a bottle of Saint-Emilion Grand Cru Classé with us in the hotel lobby was that cookie. Me shaking the crestfallen horse handler’s hand after my ordeal and telling him “meiyou wenti” (it’s OK) as I limped away was that cookie. Even the whole region held out a cookie to us in the end: Just as we drove away from the area without ever having glimpsed Mount Siguniang, I happened to look backward through the rear window of our car and involuntarily shouted “Wow, Stop!” There was the gorgeous Mount Siguniang finally revealing itself in all its splendor, rising impossibly tall from the foothills that were roiling in low-lying clouds. 

Once again, I gratefully accepted the unexpected gift. Going out into the world kindly giving and thankfully receiving is not a high-flying philosophical principle, but it sure beats bouncing around in the internet echo-chamber any day.