#but that's... the actual entire premise of fair trade coffee :|

[kradogsrats]

I hope Claudia steels the coffee beens from some xadian garden/plantation for the shop, and then if she ever gets caught she's like hahaha I could be taking your bones, jk unless?

like her pancakes, Claudia's coffee is so delicious because something got squished for it

[talkfastromance4]

Measured in Moments--Calum Hood (Part II of The Click)

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Copyright talkfastromance4 © All works is intellectual property of the author. All rights reserved. Any redistribution or reproduction or any part or all contents in any form is prohibited. You may not, without written expression and consent from the author, distribute works amongst other social media platforms

It’s taken me four days but I’ve finally finished part II! I didn’t plan on doing more than one part, but I enjoy this dynamic and there will probably be a few more parts following. Read The Click here and any feedback is welcome!

Word count: 7.3 k

Warnings: casual drinking, smut (female receiving oral, fingering, unprotected sex), fluff, sweetness

Song inspiration: Moonlight Serenade by Frank Sinatra and When Loving You by ASL

Author’s Note: The poem by Michael Faudet mentioned is “A Slow Pirouette” from his book ‘Cult of Two’ and is written in italics. The poem near the bottom is my own that I wrote and is titled roses&rainwater :)

donate to my ko-fi here :)

Masterlist

Enjoy! :)

• • • •

Calum has been planning his and Rose’s first date since after he left her apartment a week ago. They stayed up talking until about 1 o’clock and they would have probably talked for longer if her eyes didn’t get so heavy. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek as he left and when he got home, he couldn’t fall asleep because all he could think about was Rose. 

The next morning, he met her at the front counter of the CBS where he made a plan to pay for her drink and muffin, but she insisted it’s her treat. She does get a discount after all being an employee. Teresa smiled at them the whole time and gave an inconspicuous wink to Rose as she handed off the drinks. 

“Then let me take you out to dinner,” Calum had insisted while they walked to campus. 

“Coffee for dinner isn’t a fair trade,” she giggled, and Calum was distracted by the sound for a moment. “But I’d love to get dinner with you, Calum.”

Rose had no idea where he’s taking her, but he told her to wear something a little on the dressier side. So, she chose a simple black dress with comfortable black heels and made sure her hair was perfect. Her nerves were building and pixelating in her entire body, so to try and calm down, she turned on her music and read through her poetry book.

Aside from being her favorite, it’s a comfort object. Would it be weird if she brought it on the date with her? She glances at the clock above her sink, the second hand revolves around the face evenly; the opposite of her heart.

Why should she be nervous? They already stayed up talking until 1 a.m. the first night they met and talk throughout the whole day every day. And they are soulmates after all, but Rose has never had an experience like this with anyone before. Her friends made it look so easy.

Is Calum as nervous as she is?

On the other side of town, Calum is sprinting through his house making sure he has all the essentials. Keys, wallet, phone, credit cards, cash. Throughout his mental checklist, his eyes scan over his poetry book that’s lying on his counter. Rose’s perfume still hangs between the pages so whenever he opens it for a read, it’s like she’s with him. 

When it’s finally time to leave to pick her up, he notices the slight shake in his fingers as he grabs onto the steering wheel. He takes multiple shaky breaths trying to calm himself down, but his fingers are still shaky. 

He selects his favorite playlist making sure it’s loud enough so he can’t hear the speed of his racing heart. As he arrives at the CBS and her apartment, his phone vibrates three times. When he looks at the notifications on his lock screen, they’re all from the guys wishing him luck and to relax. It eases him a little, but his palms are a little sweaty as he walks inside the coffeeshop. 

Teresa smiles at him in greeting as he passes, telling him to head on up to Rose. He nods in thanks then finds himself taking the steps two at a time. Just before he can knock on the door, it opens revealing Rose and he’s left even more breathless than when he arrived. 

His eyes drink her in just as she does him, and soon enough they’re chuckling nervously because they’ve coincidentally dressed the same. He’s also in an all-black ensemble. 

“You look beautiful,” he takes her hand in his lifting it to his lips. His brown eyes look up at her as he kisses the back of her hand, a smile spreading.

“Thank you. You look pretty incredible,” she smiles and steps closer so she can close the door behind her. He watches her with an intensity she’s never seen before and it gives her butterflies. 

They hold hands while they descend the stairs and all the way to his car until he helps her climb in the SUV then shuts the door for her. The static hanging in the car is felt by them both but it’s a good form of electricity. They’re both hyper aware of the others’ emotions.

He finds a decent parking spot after the twenty-minute drive to the restaurant; it was a silent ride but wonderfully comfortable as they sat listening to his music. Calum grabs her hand for the short walk inside and opens the door for her.

“Reservation for Hood,” he tells the hostess.

Rose is peering at the restaurant while the hostess eyes up her tablet. It’s a large space with white cloths on the tables and soft lighting from the golden sconces along the maroon walls. It’s a very cozy atmosphere but Rose can tell how classy it is. 

“I’m sorry, it looks like your reservation was for seven o’clock . . . an hour ago,” the hostess says apologetically.

Her tone brings Rose back to the moment at hand and Calum’s brows are furrowed in confusion.

“No, I’m pretty sure I made it for eight o’clock,” he tries to dissuade with the hostess. “Can you check again?” he rests his hand that’s not holding Rose’s on the ledge of the hostess stand, leaning forward.

Rose glances between Calum and the hostess, she can feel the awkwardness of the situation easily, just as she can feel Calum’s anxiety rise a bit higher. 

“I’m sorry Mr. Hood, but the reservation shows for seven o’clock.”

“All right,” he sighs heavily, his knuckles squeeze the wood. “How long for a table?”

“Um, reservations at La Perle needs a few days’ notice,” the hostess answers awkwardly, “I can hold a table for you in three days’ time.”

“Three days?”

“That’s all right, we’ll call again. Thank you,” Rose intercedes sensing his uneasiness. She pulls Calum with her back through the front door. Calum throws a disdainful look at the hostess over his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, I could’ve sworn I made the reservation for eight--”

“It’s all right,” she smiles reassuringly and squeezes his hands. She glances across the street and spots a restaurant with a neon blue sign that’s flashing ‘OPEN’. “Let’s head over there, it doesn’t look like they take reservations.”

He turns at the spot she’s pointing to and his shoulders sink at the thought of leaving the premise of the five-star restaurant to hop across the street at what looks like a modernized mom and pop restaurant.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” she smiles and tugs on his hands walking to the corner of the sidewalk.

When the light signals for them to walk he has no choice but to half jog with her across the street. Her excitement is palpable and wearing down his own anxiety and embarrassment. She pulls open the door and it’s much louder than La Perle across the street with some little kids running past them to a table where birthday balloons are situated at.

“Hello! Just the two of you?” the hostess asks cheerily from their left.

“Um, yes,” Rose smiles holding up her two fingers.

“Booth or table?”

“Booth please.”

“Follow me.”

Rose tugs on Calum again leading him through the tables that are filled with people. Laughter and loud conversation fill their ears until they’re placed in front of a booth against the far-right wall. Eclectic pictures and decorations scatter the cobbled walls.

“Your server, Tracy, will be right with you. Enjoy!”

When Calum averts his eyes from the walls to investigate Rose’s observations, she’s absolutely beaming at him. She looks beautiful under the dim lighting and while the noise is all around them, she quiets it for him. He still feels awful for mixing up the times for dinner and wants her to know he’ll make it up to her.

“I’m so sorry about the reservation—”

“Calum, stop,” she takes his fingers in hers across the table. Her thumb rubs over the initials inked on his skin. “I promise this is okay. We can pretend we’re back in high school going to a dance and this is our dinner spot beforehand.”

He can’t help but smile at her temporary fix to the poorly timed situation on his part.

“Funny you mention dance because after dinner there’s a concert in the park that I want to take you to.”

“What kind of concert?” her eyes dance at the thought.

“A jazz one,” he grins just as their waitress, Tracy, skips to their table.

*****

After dinner, they arrive at the park where a small stage is set up in the middle of the grass. Other couples are seated on blankets or chairs and orbed lights are hung up above the audience that’s also connected to the stage.

Calum tosses the blanket he brought up in the air letting it billow down onto the grass. They sit comfortably together with his legs spread in front of him while hers are tucked underneath her just as the concert starts. Moonlight Serenade by Frank Sinatra begins with the soft trills of flutes and violins before the gentleman in the center begins to sing.

Rose sighs happily while she watches the players play but Calum is watching her. He’s transfixed by her and how she’s reacting to the song. She sways slightly in her spot on the blanket and even hears her humming along quietly.

He studies her face as if she’s a work of art, her eyelashes cast soft shadows on the roundness of her cheeks that are still slightly blushed, and her lips are the perfect shape. He’s still staring at her when the song ends, and a torrential downpour falls on everyone in attendance.

When she squeals his name, he springs into action quickly gathering the blanket and they run back to his car. He scrambles for his keys that are buried in his jacket pocket, when it’s finally unlocked, Rose jumps in while he balls the blanket into the backseat and darts to the drivers’ side.

The rain hits the car hard, falling in rivers down the windshield and their windows and they’re both laughing.

“I can’t believe this happened,” he wheezes trying to catch his breath as he turns the car on. He makes sure the heat is on full blast, so she isn’t too cold.

“Shortest concert I’ve been to,” she giggles. “We can still listen to jazz back at my place if you want.”

How could Calum say no to that? He can’t.

Thankfully, they aren’t too wet from the rain so they’re pretty much dry by the time they’re walking up the stairs to her apartment. Rose hands him a towel to dry his hair while she rubs off the leftover dampness on her arms from the raindrops.

“How’s my make-up?” she asks.

Calum blinks a few times when he pulls the towel from his hair, he smiles at the small smudges under her eyes. She looks like an adorable raccoon.

“Not bad, but c’mere,” he grins motioning her closer with his two fingers. She steps forward and he dabs the corner of the towel gently underneath her eyes to remove the excess mascara.

“Good?” she asks when he lowers the towel.

“Perfect,” he smiles then drapes the towel over one of her stools by the kitchen counter. “I think you promised me some jazz music, Rosie.”

She giggles at the nickname then pulls her phone out as she walks to her speaker. She turns it on, presses play, then her apartment echoes saxophones and trumpets. The baritone of the singers’ voice carries over to them and Calum pulls Rose into his arms.

His hand holds onto her lower back while the other is firm in her hand. Her left hand rests gently on his shoulder and he begins to dance to the beat of the song. Aside from being part of the rhythmic section of the band, he’s also been known to be the best dancer. Years of football, or soccer, has perfected his footwork.

“How are you so good at dancing? Did you take lessons?” Rose asks when he does a little quick step and it makes her giggle.

“Something like that,” he chuckles. “I played soccer for a long time while I was growing up.”

“Really? Did they call you ‘fancy feet?’”

“No, but they should have,” he chuckles then turns serious. “I really am sorry about tonight. Everything got ruined.”

“It wasn’t ruined,” she shakes her head.

“Our first date was supposed to be perfect,” he huffs in disappointment, staring out the window above her bed. It looks like a piece of art with the water running down and blending the colors of the streetlights together.

Rose scratches the hairs at the nape of his neck, it forces him to tilt his head down at her. “It was perfect, Calum, I was with you.”

The static electricity is back, and it only intensifies when they press their lips together. The smell of roses is more potent from the rain and she tastes of rainwater. It’s his new favorite thing paired with dancing with her while they kiss tenderly in her living room. The song changes to Moonlight Serenade and he smiles against her mouth.

“This is our song now,” he mumbles, swiping his tongue over her lower lip. He loves the sweet, sweet taste of her kiss.

Rose pulls him even closer, chest to chest with her fingers interlocked behind his neck. He moves his hands around her waist so he’s holding onto her tightly. Their foreheads bump together, and they share the same breath as they continue to sway on the spot.

“You’re my love song,” she whispers and kisses him once more.

*****

Calum and Rose have been on many dates since then, most of them are study dates but if they’re together that’s all that matters. They see each other every morning for breakfast and their walk to campus. It fills Rose with joy because she never had a high school sweetheart, but this is exactly how she pictured it would be.

She’s over at his house and they’re both studying for a test that counts for 25% of their grade. She’s been brewing coffee hourly while she pores over her books and notes. Calum gets distracted by her much too easily, especially when she whispers the phrases out loud.

He finds himself glancing up from his own notes, most of them are small phrases written about her anyway, to admire her. He’s read about soulmates and what it will feel like but experiencing it is vastly different than what the books say. Calum constantly has this growing need to be beside her, even if the task at hand is ‘boring’, he knows it won’t be because she makes it fun.

While it is as easy as breathing, being with her, he finds his breath is lost when they are together. When she’s working a shift downstairs, Calum sits at a table doing his homework or writing, she’ll walk by him purposefully to stroke her finger over the back of his hand.

He’d glance up at her just to see her smile wryly, as if it’s a secret that she’s touching him and watches her continue her way. She always turns back around to give him her true Rose smile; the whole ordeal leaves him excited and filled with butterflies.

Butterflies that he would love to catch and keep in a jar so that he could give them to her, but he’d need to find a jar big enough to contain them all.

“Calum, you need to be studying,” she tells him sternly without glancing up from her textbook.

He continues to watch her highlight before she shifts her gaze from the words in her book to him.

“I am studying,” he grins, his brown eyes moving over her. She blushes and shifts in her chair.

“I’m not testing you,” she murmurs.

“You are more than you know, sweetheart,” he hums under his breath and resumes to his own book.

As the night ticks on, Rose begins to yawn more and more.

“I think it’s time for you to go home, sweetheart,” he says closing his books up.

“No, no, I’m fine,” she yawns twice more, covering her mouth with her hand.

Calum stands up, presses a kiss to her forehead and lets Duke outside. When he returns, she’s passed out across her books, her arm is used as a pillow. He beams at the sight then pulls out his phone to take a photo before scooping her up in his arms.

“I got the coffee,” she sighs tiredly, lifting her head up from his shoulder.

“You’re cut off, Rosie,” he chuckles and continues down the hallway to his room.

“Am I home? How’d I get home?”

“We’re still at my place, you can spend the night.”

“I don’t want to . . . be . . . bother,” she says through a long yawn. “I’ll drive home.”

“You don’t have a car,” he chortles setting her on the edge of his bed. “I wouldn’t let you drive even if you did. You don’t even have your eyes open.”

“Yeah I do,” she sighs while he grabs some old shorts and a t-shirt for her from his closet.

“Really?” he leans down in front of her, clothes in hand.

“Mhm.”

“Then what am I doing right now?”

“Smiling. You’re always smiling.”

“Because you always make me smile.”

“Aha! I was right,” she tries to focus on him through her heavy lids. He laughs at her cuteness and attempt to prove that she’s awake.

“I have clothes here for you to sleep in. I’m going to get Duke and some water bottles, okay?” he kisses her forehead. She sways from the touch.

With Duke and two bottles in his arms, he finds Rose curled against his pillow and he’s floored at how natural it is to see her in his bed, in his clothes, in his life. He sets Duke on the bottom of the bed and changes into his own sleepwear in his closet then joins Rose.

She cuddles into him immediately, sighing quietly. He counts the seconds in between her breaths and he’s fast asleep in moments.

The next morning, he makes her coffee and pancakes and syrup filled kisses are exchanged throughout the whole meal. Their first sleepover wasn’t planned, but it was a success nonetheless and opened the door for many nights of staying over.

****

It’s the start of their holiday break, exams and last-minute papers are finally over and done with. To celebrate, Calum is making Rose a pasta dish at her apartment while she drinks the second dirty Shirley that he made her.

She’s sat on one of the barstools, cheek in hand, admiring the way his shoulders flex and roll while he chops up some greens to put in the sauce. Her eyes move with the motion of his arm as he grabs his own beer, then her eyes watch his lips touch the lip of the bottle.

How is she enchanted by the simplest tasks he does?

“You’re drooling,” he interrupts her thoughts.

Rose sits up straight, instinctively wiping her mouth then glares at him.

“I am not,” she pouts then takes a hearty sip of her cocktail. The sweet cherry juice and bite of the vodka and sprite tickles her taste buds as Calum laughs. He scrapes the greens into the pot with the knife then moves in front of her across the counter.

He leans on his forearms, beer bottle in between his hands, while he stares at her with those brown eyes that make her even weaker now that she’s been drinking. He bites down on his lower lip as he reaches his hand up, his thumb swipes on her bottom lip.

“You are drooling, Rosie. I don’t blame you, I’m a hot chef,” he smiles, eyes twinkling.

“Can I kiss the chef, or do I have to wait until after dinner?”

“Mmm,” he pretends to think it over while inching closer to her across the countertop. She moves with him, his hand cups her cheek and their noses bump together. “I’ll allow it.”

When their lips touch, she can’t help but sigh at the softness and his tongue is quick to slip into her mouth so he can taste more of the cherries from her drink. Rose cards her fingers in his thick hair, nails rubbing at his scalp while his thumb caresses her cheek.

Her oven lets out a loud beep, breaking their kiss to announce that it’s heated for the garlic bread. Calum and Rose are heated as well, she gives him three more quick kisses before he resumes his culinary duties and she resumes her admiration.

“So, there’s a party tomorrow night and the guys are going to be there,” he says while they’re eating at the counter. Rose has her legs across his knees, his hand rests comfortably on top of them while he eats.

“I sense an ‘and’ coming,” she smiles twirling her fork in the noodles.

“And I was wondering if you’d want to come and meet them,” he finishes.

Rose lowers her noodle filled fork to look his way, he has a soft smile and hope in his eyes.

“Really? You want me to meet them?” she asks, excitedly leaning closer to him.

“Yeah. I talk about you all the time and if I don’t bring you with me tomorrow then they might literally kill me.”

“I can’t have that,” she shakes her head and laughs. “I’d love to meet them.”

****

Calum can tell Rose is nervous in the way she keeps chewing on her lower lip. She’s bouncing around her apartment gathering her things and Calum watches her fondly until she stops at her dresser to slide on some bracelets. He uses that as an opportunity to stand behind her, she jumps when she turns around and sees him right there.

“Hey, you’ll chew your lip right off and what will I kiss, then, hm?” he asks massaging her lip carefully with his thumb.

“What if they think I’m weird?” she’s pouting now, eyes full of worry.

“They like weird,” he grins then takes her hand to kiss her fingers. “It’s going to be fine. You’re my girl and they’re going to love you.”

When they arrive at the party hand in hand (Rose has a death grip on him) he weaves her through the other people in attendance. He spots the boys near the back of the bar where the couches are, and he points. He feels her suck in a breath and he kisses her temple.

“Cal!” they all shout as the couple gets closer.

The three Australian men stand from their seats giving him hugs and handshakes while Rose cowers behind his back. She’s finding comfort in the coolness of Calum’s leather jacket until he pulls her forward, hand still firm in hers.

“Guys, this is Rose,” Calum introduces, his smile proud as he gazes at her. “Rosie, these are the guys, Michael, Luke and Ashton.”

The use of her nickname calms her down a little and then all three of his best friends give her warm hugs, too. She says a quiet hello back as they all settle down onto the couch again. Calum orders their drinks and she’s hoping the alcohol will give her a confidence boost.

Rose finds herself liking Calum’s three best friends the more they talk and joke with Calum. She even notices that all their accents get a little more pronounced the more they talk with each other and share stories. She laughs the loudest when Calum and Ashton join in a banter together.

She chimes in when she can, but otherwise she just loves watching Calum interact with them. It’s a side of him she’s never seen until now, but she loves it. She can see how much he loves them.

“So, Rose,” Ashton starts, a pompous yet teasing tone to his voice, “is it true that Calum messed up your first date?”

“I’m gonna kill you mate,” Calum threatens and Rose giggles, squeezing his arm.

“He didn’t mess it up. It went a little off course but how we met was like that, too. He did steal my book and all,” she teases and pinches his cheek.

“You stole mine, too,” he chuckles leaning into her, his eyes darting between her lips and eyes. “Amongst other things you stole.”

Rose’s stomach flips and all she can do in response is smile. He kisses her quickly just as a woman’s voice breaks apart their moment.

“Sorry I’m late guys, work was killer. Oh! Is this Rose? Cal, she’s gorgeous! Hi, I’m Ruby.”

Rose takes Ruby’s outstretched hand, a little taken aback at her energy but appreciative at the same time for it. Ruby is Ashton’s soulmate and Rose can see exactly how perfect they are for each other.

“Rose. Nice to meet you,” Rose smiles kindly.

“Hey Rube,” Calum grins.

“I’m stealing your girl so I can get to know her better. We’ll be back, boys,” Ruby announces pulling Rose off the couch. She blows a kiss to Ashton who is used to her antics by now.

“Be nice!” Calum calls watching them head to the bar.

“I’m always nice!” Ruby shouts back then gives Rose a warm smile. “I’m so happy we finally get to meet. I remember Calum talking about you before you even met the first time, he was so in love with your poetry book.”

“It’s not my own poetry book, but I wrote in it sometimes,” Rose shrugs.

“It’s yours,” Ruby nods affirmatively then flags down the bartender. “Two lemon shots please, you like those right?”

“Yeah, I love them,” Rose smiles.

After the girls took their shots, Rose is feeling even more comfortable with Calum’s friends. Soon enough, she’s cracking jokes and singing along to the music that’s playing. Calum is elated that his best friend soulmates and his true love soulmate are getting along so well. He doesn’t even try to be inconspicuous as he kisses her in front of all these people, especially his friends.

*****

The rain pours consistently against her building, it sounds like large handfuls of rice hitting the glass of her windows. It’s a calming sound that almost mimics the ocean waves while she and Calum are atop her bed reading their poetry books. It’s a quiet night in and while she’s getting lost in the words on her page, a loud crack of thunder erupts outside causing Rose to jump and drop her book.

“It’s just thunder baby,” Calum grins at her and she glares at him.

“I hate thunderstorms.”

“Let me read to you, c’mere,” he shifts on her bed and she scoots closer to him.

From shoulder to feet, they’re touching, and she listens aptly to the low rasp of his voice. Through the rain it sounds even more sultry than normal and makes goosebumps form on her skin. While he reads Michael Faudet’s poem, she takes his hand in hers.

‘You took my hand in yours.’

While he reads of the author commentating on his lover’s actions, Rose follows along perfectly.

‘Guiding my fingers beneath the hem of your panties.’

Calum swallows harshly as she drags his hand beneath the hem of her cotton shorts, leading his fingers between her legs. When he touches her, they both stop. They both turn their heads and stare into each other’s eyes.

“Keep going,” she blinks at him innocently while her fingers are making his do the opposite of innocent.

Calum turns back to the page.

“’Showing me exactly how you want to be touched— ‘” she makes his fingers circle around her clit and his breath catches. “’—like a ballerina in the spotlight doing a slow pirouette.’”

He tosses the book away as soon as he finishes the last word of the poem, his mouth on hers while his fingers dance between her legs. Thunder rumbles and Rose squeaks when he teases his finger inside her opening.

He shifts his weight removing his hand so she’s in between his thighs. When he deepens the kiss by slipping his tongue in her mouth, Rose moves her hands over his shoulders and down to his waist. She places her hands under his shirt to glide over the soft, warm skin of his back. Her actions make his shirt ride up.

“What’re you tryin’ to do?” he teases playfully, teeth pulling on her lower lip.

“Take this off,” she huffs, and he pulls back to look in her eyes. She tugs on his shirt again.

Calum leans back on his knees and she follows him into a sitting position as if an invisible string has them connected. Rose watches him tug his shirt off. The movement tousles his hair slightly; he licks his lips moving forward but Rose stops him with her hand on his chest.

“What--?”

“Shh,” she hushes. Her eyes drink him in; his dark tattoos and smooth skin over his tight muscles that she can’t help but run her hands over.

Calum watches her with growing lust. He’s getting drunk off the way she’s looking at him and the way her hands feel that are now on his waist.

“How are you real?” she whispers, eyes looking up at him and he smiles.

His eyes lower to her lips before darting back to her eyes. “I was just thinking the same thing. Want to join me in the no shirt party?” but his fingers are already working on the buttons of her pajama shirt. She helps him by undoing the last buttons on the bottom, then pulls her arms out of the sleeves. Calum tosses the fabric to the end of the bed.

His eyes devour her, and it makes Rose’s belly burn insatiably until his mouth is on her neck, suckling and kissing the skin. His hand cups her left breast right away, his thumb stroking over her nipple before he removes his lips from her neck so he can suckle on the other breast. She sighs in his ear as his tongue flicks the hardened bud.

“Mm,” she moans quietly, and she falls back against her pillows, his mouth still attached to her breast as he falls with her.

He shifts his head over to the other one now, his thumb now brushing the underside as his mouth sucks on this breast. She’s plump and perfect in his hand and mouth. He releases her breast with a pop before kissing the space between her breasts and back up to her lips.

“Was that okay?” he asks around her mouth, the chain of his necklace knocks against her collarbone. The contrast of his warm mouth and cool bite of the chain electrifies her.

“Mhm, felt good,” she smiles scratching her nails down his sideburns.

They continue kissing, his hand travels down her waist and over her hip so he can pull her leg up over his waist, he wants her as close as possible. When he places his lips on her neck again, she huffs into his hair while he makes a mark. He’s surprised that she’s leading his hand in between her legs again.

Calum’s hesitant at first, not wanting to cross any lines, so he keeps his hand there while he kisses on her neck. It isn’t until she starts rubbing herself with his hand that he begins to circle his fingers over her core.

“Can I?” he asks trailing his fingers back under her cotton shorts and the waistline of her panties.

“Mmm, yes,” she exhales, and it makes him shiver.

His fingers slide between her folds until he finds her clit. Her body jolts at his touch and he grins against her neck feeling how wet she is. He rubs slow circles against her clit and Rose gyrates her hips with his motions, her breath becoming more ragged.

He wants to see her face, so he lifts his head up to gaze at her and she’s so beautiful. She’s biting her lip even as it trembles, her thighs trembling as well with his motions.

“You’re so pretty, baby,” he sighs and teases her hole with the tip of his finger just like before. Rose releases her lip from her teeth with a gasp, her body exhales. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes, yes,” she practically whines, eyes clenched shut and Calum teases her again, adding a bit more of his finger this time.

“D’you want more?”

Her fingers are in his hair now as she nods, forcing her eyes open to look at him. “Please, Cal, I want more.”

He inserts his finger slowly, feeling how snug she is and pumps his finger halfway a few times to gather her arousal. Once his finger is nice and slick, he pushes in all the way and she’s gasping, pulling on his hair. He rests his forehead onto hers, watching her mouth open and close soundlessly as he rotates his finger inside of her.

She’s warm and soft, and he can only imagine what she’d feel like around his dick.

He slips his other finger in as well and she cries out his name. Rose is rocking her hips against his hand as he slides and scissors his fingers in and out at the perfect speed, curling and swirling them each time.

“Ooh, I’m almost . . . don’t stop, please,” she begs breathlessly, and Calum obeys.

He feels her about to cum, the satisfying squelch of his fingers thrusting in and out of her is increasing as her orgasm approaches.

“So warm, baby,” he breathes, and he feels her clench around his fingers. “So pretty when you moan for me, am I making you feel good? Yeah? You almost there, for me? C’mon, I can feel you. . ..”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” she chants and holds him tightly against her chest as she comes.

He feels her body go rigid in pleasure, short gasps burst from her lips and he watches her come undone hungrily. When her body relaxes and her legs fall away, he stops his movements and removes his fingers slowly. He examines them in the lowlight, glistening with her juices and with his eyes locked on hers, he inserts them in his mouth.

It’s the perfect mixture of salty and sweet, his ocean and rose girl.

To his surprise, Rose pulls his fingers from his mouth and without batting an eye, slips them between her own lips. He feels her tongue swirl up and around his fingers, licking herself off him.

“Shit, that’s so hot,” he grunts. With his fingers still suctioned between her lips, she wiggles out of her shorts and underwear, tossing them to the side. “I have an idea.”

“Okay,” she whispers removing her mouth from his digits.

She kisses the pads delicately before he stretches down and grabs his book. He hands it to her and scoots lower on the bed, smirking while he kisses down her belly. “Open up,” he tells her and as she opens the book, he spreads her legs. “Read to me.”

Her head is swimming with the erotic act that he’s doing but she does as he says and starts to read. Calum starts off slow with soft kisses on the inside of her thighs because he’s listening to the way her voice shakes. When she turns the page, he fully dives in with his mouth suctioning to her folds and Rose gasps. Her voice shakes more, and her legs are quick to follow while Calum creates his own poem with his tongue and lips.

He eats her out slowly and with intense care. He nips and sucks in just the right formation. Rose stops reading and starts moaning, her body curves upward in pleasure. Calum’s palm is flat on her belly while the other is hooked around her thigh to keep her body open for him. He hums against her as he feels her stomach tighten and he licks at her faster, she sucks in a breath and holds it while she basks in her orgasm.

Calum is hypnotized by the rise and fall of her breasts as she gathers her breath, he tongues at her lazily before removing his mouth. With the shadows on her face from the rain falling down her windows, it looks like she’s been crying, but he knows it would be tears of pleasure if it were real.

Rose drags him back up her body, her mouth hot and urgent on his.

“I want you,” she sighs into his mouth, her hand cups the bulge under his sweatpants.

“I want you too,” he nibbles on her lip. They’re both scrambling to remove the last article of clothing he’s wearing, and she reaches into her drawer pulling out a condom.

Noses touching, eyes locked, he pushes himself inside her, both moaning at the intense feeling of the stretch. Their breath is hot as he settles his hips against hers. He fills her completely then pulls back so he can create a steady rhythm and to hopefully hear her moans again.

Rose moans instantly, her fingers trailing up and down his back while he rocks her world. Her head tilts back and he uses the opportunity to kiss on her sweet neck, she tastes like roses and rainwater. Their heads become dizzy as his thrusts become faster and faster.

Sequentially, she screams his name just as the thunder rumbles loudly and as he’s reached his own high. It shakes the framework of the building and when he collapses on top of her, neither one can tell if the thunder or their lovemaking shook the world.

****

The next morning, Calum woke Rose up with breakfast in bed complete with French toast, scrambled eggs, bacon, and a glass of orange juice. Rose is amazed at his gesture and they share the breakfast together while exchanging small pillow talk.

“You really are a great chef,” she compliments as they finish the last bite.

“Thank you,” he grins then discards the plates onto her nightstand. When he turns back around, he captures her lips in a sweet, syrupy kiss that he quickly deepens and makes her heart race. “Care to join me for a shower?”

“Yes please,” she smiles on his lips and kisses him once more. “Why don’t you go get it started, I’ll be in in a minute.”

“Don’t be too long, Rosie.”

Rose is left a little stunned as he slips from the bed and walks to her bathroom completely naked. He’s perfect from every angle. When the bathroom door closes, she scrambles for her black notebook and writes furiously on the page before skipping into the bathroom to join a wet Calum under the stream of warm water.

Since the night they shared together, Rose has been itching to share what she wrote in her notebook but it’s not that common for soulmates to use the ‘L’ word. The logic behind the reasoning does make sense, but if you’re soulmates there’s really no need to say those three little words.

Those three little words that are only written about and acted out in movies. Those three little words hold a different kind of weight, a different form of finality in the construct of soulmates. It’s been eating away at her for the last three days on whether she should just show him the poem.

Calum has tried to get what’s bothering her out of her, but Rose is stubborn and tells him it’s nothing. Calum is stubborn too but he’s more stubborn in a quieter version. He watches her actions, pinpoints her voice when it gets too high and notices how often her eyes glance to her book beside her bed.

She’s shown him her poetry in there before, but he hasn’t seen her write in it lately. While she’s fixing her make-up in the bathroom before going on a double date with Ashton and Ruby, Calum breaks his own moral code of privacy and opens her book. He flips through it until he gets to the last page she wrote in; he won’t look at anything else.

He begins to read:

‘Dancing in the moonlight while floorboards creak and hearts race, a moment frozen in time measured through the saxophone notes and rain patters against the windows. The smell of roses in her hair while rainwater grows their love right before their eyes in the palm of their hands it blooms and flourishes, growing, growing, growing.’

He’s speechless. This is clearly about their first date but that was nearly nine months ago, and she wrote the ‘L’ word. Does she want to say it to him? Did she know on their first date that she felt that precise word for him?

His mind is racing because even Ashton and Ruby haven’t said the ‘L’ word to each other. But he and Rose aren’t like them, what they feel and the connection they have runs deeper than the normal soulmate scenario. He felt it the first time their pinkies touched. He felt it when he looks in her eyes.

The door opens and Rose steps out, gasping when she sees what’s in his hands. Instead of anger for going through it, she feels embarrassment that he found it. She feels more naked and vulnerable under his gaze. Her throat is dry, but she still wants to try and rectify her slip up.

“I can explain,” she starts, fingers twisting together in nerves. Calum stares at her. “I wrote that the first night we slept together, it was just words in my mind that I needed to get out and I���”

Calum drops her book to the bed and gathers her in his arms in one swoop, one heartbeat of time. He kisses her with everything he has in him, her lips taste like cherries and she smells like roses and rainwater. His favorite smell. Rose gasps into the kiss but kisses him back with fervor, she untangles her fingers and clutches onto his leather jacket.

“You don’t have to explain, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

“I don’t?”

“No, because I’ve been thinking and feeling the same thing.”

“You have?” she gulps, staring up at him under her long lashes.

“Yes, silly girl,” he grins cupping her cheeks in his hands. His eyes never stray from hers and his voice doesn’t falter, “I love you, too.”

Rose smiles as she feels a new kind of warmth grow inside her, it’s a glowing type of warm that she knows won’t fade in time. It hovers inside her and she feels as if it’s waiting to latch onto something.

“I love you,” she tells him and that warm glow bursts out of her and right into Calum. She swears she saw it and the way he gasps makes her think he saw it too or is feeling it now inside him.

“Did you feel that?” he asks, his eyes widening, and she can see that glow burning inside his irises.

“I still feel it,” she nods sliding her hand up his stomach and onto his chest. “But I feel it in here,” she presses her hand right over his heart.

“I do too. Loving you is easy to do.”

They kiss and revel in this newfound feeling from saying those three words, it’s as if their kisses are sealing an unspoken vow to say them as much as they can. They were fifteen minutes late to dinner but when Calum traced ‘I ♡ U’ on the back of her hand, she decides that fifteen minutes was well worth it.

• • • •

Taglist: @galcalirwin​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @thecurlsofgod​ @myloverboyash​  @rotten-kandy​ @tea4sykes​ @jannimoeller3​ @loveroflrh​ @iovehemmings​ @cxddlyash​ @princesslrh​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @katiaw2​ @g-l-pierce​ @fairyintheglass​ @gosh-im-short​ @banditocth​ @dezzym17 @koalacal​ @lukeisbaby​ @spicycal​ @mysticalhood​ @thesubtweeter​ @wastedheartcth​ @atlcalm​ @itjustkindahappenedreally​ @calumance​ @babylon-corgis​ @thew0rldneedsmcreycghurt​ @lanternlover2​ @istaywithmyjonas​ @calteahood​ @sarcastically-defensive17​ @allier59​ @calumhoodaf​ @frontmanash​ @philthepegacorn​ @mantlereid​ @lukedorkyhemmings​ @addietagglikesbands​ @kikixfandoms​ @sanrioluke​ @mayve-hems​ @morguelth @haikucal​ @thatscooibaby​ @meghanrose05​ @idontneedanyone​

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: The Real Housewives of Storybrooke (13/?)

A fic based on this premise here, following the lives of Storybrooke’s elite wives, with all the scandal, bitching and backstabbing that goes on behind the scenes of high society…

This verse is open for prompts!

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[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [Eleven] [Twelve] [AO3]

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REGINA

“Ok, people, this party isn’t going to plan itself. Let’s get cracking.”

The weekend had finally arrived, and after five days of refraining from banging her head against a brick wall for all the progress she was making in the town hall, Regina was more than ready for a distraction, and if that distraction happened to involve planning a massive party, then so be it.

Robin had already told her that he thought she was mad if this was what constituted downtime for her, but organising things like this was what Regina lived for. There was a reason why she’d always been the one that anyone in the town council went to whenever they needed any advice for planning local social events. She was also the one that they went to when they needed advice for planning personal social events.

The kitchen table had been cleared of all Tilly and Robyn’s protesting paraphernalia, and the two girls, deciding that party planning really wasn’t their forte, were over at the Gold house, spending some time with Tilly’s beloved godfather before she had to return home. Robyn was disappointed that Tilly could not stay for the party, but she accepted that Tilly did have a family of her own that she wanted to get back to. Maybe something could be arranged for her to pay another flying visit for the big bash. Robyn certainly deserved to be able to step out with her girlfriend on her arm.

Mary Margaret and Ariel had come over to assist with the planning; Mary Margaret was just as grateful for a day away from work-related troubles as Regina was. Whilst she’d not intended going back to work full time just yet and had only raised her head above the parapet to intervene whilst she could, she didn’t trust Sidney to handle the whole Storybrooke endeavour in her absence so she’d ended up working a lot more than she’d bargained for.

“Do you think we’ve bitten off more than we can chew, here?” she asked presently, looking at all Regina’s binders and all her own paperwork. “Ok, scratch that, this is definitely not more than Regina can chew. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?”

“Of course not.” Ariel reached across the table and patted Mary Margaret’s hand. “You’ve got this. It’s going to be awesome.”

The charitable trust that Mary Margaret had organised to be set up to support and protect Storybrooke’s green spaces was now up and running, and Regina had decided that the best way to spread awareness and begin fundraising for the venture was to throw a big party at the Blanchard Group’s expense. Everyone loved a gala and everyone loved to be seen to be doing good, especially in the local community. It was the perfect ruse. Mary Margaret had been all too happy to agree and fund the thing, but now that it had actually come to organising it, she appeared to be having second thoughts.

“Are you sure that you need me here?” she asked. “I’m perfectly happy to let you make all the decisions and I’ll just sign the checks. I’ve never been good at planning things. Regina, you should know this. You’ve planned every single occasion I’ve ever hosted since we became friends.”

“Well, yes, but this is different. You’re the figurehead of this operation, we need your input.”

“Oh God. Do I have to be?” Mary Margaret looked down at herself. “I’m the worst figurehead ever. Look at me. I’ve still got baby brain. I put odd socks on this morning, and I drove here in my slippers by accident.”

Regina looked down at Mary Margaret’s fluff-encased feet and shrugged. “You’ll be fine. It’s a night out for you and David, without needing to worry about the kids. I know that motherhood is a huge part of your identity, but you need to take some time for yourself, and I think that this is a great opportunity for you to do so.”

“Taking time for myself normally equates to eight hours uninterrupted sleep in our household,” Mary Margaret muttered. “Still, I guess I see where you’re coming from. So, what do we need to organise?”

The short answer, of course, was everything, but Regina didn’t say that for fear of scaring Mary Margaret away for good.

It was a long time since the three of them had all got together to plan something like this. It would have been great if they could have got Belle in on the act as well, but she had declined, still feeling like the odd fish in their circle of friends. Although she was getting used to the circles that she now moved in having married Gold, and although Ariel was trying her best to make sure that she felt comfortable in them, she still preferred her comfort zone. Maybe she was coming down with something; she’d sounded pretty rough on the phone when Regina had called earlier to announce the planning meeting.

Robin came into the room bearing a box of fresh breakfast pastries from the bakery, and he promptly made himself scarce again having seen Regina’s huge stack of papers. One day she’d talk him round, but today was not that day.

“OK, first thing first is obviously the guest list. It’ll be a ticketed event and open to everyone who’s willing to make the involuntary voluntary donation to the Storybrooke Green Trust to get a ticket, but we ought to make a point of inviting a few bigwigs so that they can spread the word. It’s not entirely true that all publicity is good publicity, but no publicity is bad publicity. Mary Margaret, you can invite Sidney and the rest of the board. I think it might be cathartic to watch them squirm when people gush about how wonderful the initiative is.”

Mary Margaret raised an eyebrow. “You do realise that the board is made up of mostly middle-aged, mostly white men? They won’t squirm, they’ll just take all the credit for my idea.”

“Good point. Well made. You may not want to be in the spotlight, but we can’t have someone else claiming it on your behalf when they have no right to.” Regina sighed. “Ariel, can you make a shortlist of possible candidates from your contact list?”

“Absolutely. The maritime trading industry will certainly keep our end up.”

“I know the right government people to schmooze.” Regina checked off her list. “The big ballroom at the Palace Hotel, I think, as a venue. If we’re going to do it, we might as well go all out. No sense in trying to get out there and being half-hearted about it. Burst onto the scene with a bang, not a whimper, I say. Make an entrance.”

Ariel raised an eyebrow. “That’s something that your family has always been good at.”

Regina thought of her mother and her stepsister and their tendency towards the drama queen end of the spectrum. She shrugged. “What can I say? Theatricality’s in the blood. Even if Zelena’s not actually blood. She absorbed it by osmosis.”

“Let’s not talk about Zelena.” Ariel made a face. “I know I can’t hope that she won’t turn up, but can we try and sequester her in a corner somewhere? Actually, that’s not fair on you. You can hardly enjoy these things if you’re shepherding your relatives all the time.”

“Everyone knows that you’re not really meant to enjoy your own parties,” Regina said. For the most part she did enjoy her own parties; she wouldn’t be so fond of planning them and giving them if she didn’t. “It’s all right, I’m used to it by now. Besides, if we can get Carrie and Ursula to come then they’ll be more than happy to spend the entire night trolling my sister.”

“Give Carrie enough gin and she’ll troll anyone. She and Cameron are lethal when they get together under the influence.” Ariel gave a fond sigh, no doubt remembering parties past.

The next couple of hours were taken up mainly with eating pastries and making very long lists of things that needed to be done and people who needed to be called. Robin kept coming in at intervals and refilling coffee and tea, and by the time Ariel and Mary Margaret left, Regina was satisfied in a job well done.

Robin poked his head around the kitchen door. “Is it safe to come in and make a sandwich?”

Regina laughed. “Yes, of course. You could have come in and made a sandwich before, you know.”

“Well, I didn’t want to disturb you too much when you were all so intent in your pursuits. How’s it going?”

“We’re getting there. I’m sure it’s going to be an amazing evening. Don’t worry, all you need to do is turn up and say hello to three people, then you can go and stand in a corner next to the buffet table keeping Belle company whilst the rest of us schmooze.”

“That makes it sound like Belle will be monopolising the buffet table,” Robin said. “But since you always pull out all the stops when it comes to catering, I can’t say I’d be sorry to join her.” He paused. “Is Belle all right? Marian said she’s seemed pretty stressed for a while now.”

Regina shrugged. “I know that she and Cameron are trying for a baby, and I know Belle really wants to be a mommy.” She fell to thinking about motherhood; she had never had any desire to have a baby of her own, but she adored her stepson and couldn’t imagine a life without Roland in it, nor a life without her niece. She knew that Belle loved Bae and Tilly, but at the same time, Regina could understand her wanting a baby of her own.

She thought of Belle sounding rough over the phone this morning. It would be ironic if, after all she’d said, Belle was pregnant after all.

[daniellesmithtv]

Give Good, Get Good: Gifts that Give

Gift giving is my love language.

Seriously. I LOVE to find the perfect gift for the people in my life. I love to surprise them and see the look on their face when I get it right.

But there is a little something else I love to do: give back.

I have a fairly robust list of people I gift –  between family, my tribe of friends, colleagues and people I like to surprise spoil. That means I’m constantly on ‘gift alert’…..what would they LOVE? But I also ask myself another question, “Is it possible to spoil the people I adore (or surprise them) AND make the world a little better at the same time.

Why yes, it is.

Because this matters to me, I’ve curated some of my FAVORITE places you can buy for the people you love AND give back at the same time. You’ll find jewelry, t-shirts, accessories and a slew of options your family can commit to – from easing the burden of a family with a sick child, to sponsoring a child in another country to helping to feed little ones right here in the United States to supporting the efforts of a family in a third world country to pull themselves from poverty.

Give Good, Get Good: Gifts that Give

Brave New World Designs– Have I told you that I have brilliant, kind, compassionate friends who are working DAILY for a better world? My friend Christine Koh is one of them. This past year she started Brave New World Designs. I will allow her beautiful words to describe her mission, “Brave New World Designs is on a mission to make the world a little better each day by giving voice to the virtues of creativity, humor, wisdom and love. Our work is part poetry, part adventure, part advocacy and part silly.” I have three of her t-shirt designs in my closet and my small girl has a favorite as well. She wore her ‘Love Fiercely’ shirt to school for picture day and it is PERFECT.

Shop Compliment – I have a personal policy of complimenting ANYONE I find deserving. Have a kind heart, beautiful eyes, lovely manners? I will tell you. My friend Melissa has built a beautiful business with the same mission. She and I actually found each other here online and I’ve been addicted to her heart and commitment to offering education for girls ever since. 5% of each purchase from ShopCompliment goes to a scholarship fund for girls. It is magic. And so are Melissa’s products. She started with jewelry – and each piece comes with a personal ‘compliment’…but she has expanded to inspirational coffee mugs, candles, notebooks and so much more.

Pura Vida – Have a cause that matters to you? I’m fairly confident Pura Vida has you covered in their charity bracelet collection. You can support animal awareness, education, mental health, cancer, diabetes, the military, Parkinson’s disease and SO MUCH MORE. Each and every bracelet is handcrafted by artisans from all over the world. The bracelets are worn by millions of people around the world (I have a few dozen!) and provide full time jobs to more than 150 artisans around the globe. They are partnered with more than 190 charities around the world and have donated more than $1.5 Million dollars. And they have more than just bracelets. They are a go-to for gifts for me. Ohhh – and they have a subscription service!!

Chavez for Charity – I have told you I know extraordinary people, yes? Julie Marie Chavez is a fellow University of San Diego Alumni and someone I knew in my time at the University. She graduated and created the magic that is Chavez for Charity. As with Pura Vida, you can support some of the causes and organizations that mean the world to you. From the Matthew Shepard Foundation to the Malala Fund and Erin Brockovich Foundation (and so many more) – the purchase of each and every bracelet means you are making a difference. And the options are gorgeous. I regularly give them as gifts.

I am Just One. – If you have  ever thought, ‘but I am JUST ONE PERSON…how can I better the world?” – you aren’t alone. I AM JUST ONE is built on the premise that yes, yes! you can make a difference. Just One has the beautiful goals of offering hope, raising awareness and creating advocates. They are offering fair trade jewelry that subscribes to the notion of a ‘hand up’ not a ‘hand out’ so that you know, with each and every gorgeous purchase you are helping to allow a beautifully talented artisan to support themselves and maintain their dignity.

Cause Box –  You know I LOVE subscription boxes. This is one that offers not only a series of gifts for the receiver, but each and every item in the box has a story and makes the world a better place. The boxes are curated for women and each item you receive is either in partnership with CauseBox or comes as a limited edition product from a socially conscious company. Boxes arrive quarterly and subscriptions are about $50/quarter if you pay annually. I LOVE MINE. The products may be jewelry, art work, fashion, apparel, accessories or beauty products. There also have a limited edition box for men for the holidays.

Intangible Giving

The benefit of giving the intangible – you are blessing someone you love (and possibly that ‘person who has everything’) with the gift of having helped someone in need by your gift in their honor.

No Kid Hungry – I have long been committed to ending child hunger. It shouldn’t even be A THING. And yet, it is. ONE in SIX children in the United States don’t get the food they need. That makes learning, living, just being a kid nearly impossible. Share Our Strength is an organization working to make sure all kiddos get the food they need where they live, where they learn and where they play. I’m happy to join friends like Tim McDonald who have been advocates for this cause for years.

Additionally, through its Cooking Matters program, the No Kid Hungry campaign educates and empowers low-income families to stretch their food budgets so their kids get healthy meals at home.

Take a look at their work here.

Unbound – This is a gift you can do as a family – sponsoring a child in need in another country. A portion of Unbound’s mission is to ‘see potential, not poverty’. By sponsoring a child as we have (Karen and Jacqueline both live in Guatemala), my small people are learning not only about another culture as they can communicate with both girls, but also what is means to truly give to someone else.

In order to qualify for sponsorship, Jacqueline and Karen, (like all other children) must be enrolled in school. Dropping out at any time prevents them from being sponsored. Now that my family has committed to both of them, the folks at Unbound sit down with the family and determine how the sponsorship could most benefit them – food, clothing, school supplies and items that can help them break the cycle of poverty – like pigs, chickens, seeds for farming and trees for growing fruit – are all options.

The $60 ($30 each) we spend each month to sponsor these two girls clearly provides much needed financial assistance for their families, but it is equally beneficial for us: My children are seeing good works and love in action, they are learning about another culture, and they have a connection to another child who is opening their eyes to an entirely different way of life.

St. Jude – You are likely not a stranger to St. Jude’s Research Hospital in Memphis. I bet you know it is committed to saving the lives of children living with rare forms of cancer. But did you know the doctors, nurses, and staff treat each child and each parent like family?

The atmosphere is warm and inviting, it does not smell like a hospital (despite being a thoroughly sterile environment), the walls are painted with kids in mind and decorated with heartfelt art work created by the kids living there.

Though there are only 78 beds on campus, there are three different housing options available based on how long a child will need treatment – from a week to a handful of years.

No matter how long a child receives treatment, no matter how long their family must live in St. Jude’s housing, no matter how far they must travel for the life-giving, life-saving treatment they need, they will never receive a bill – not for medical care, not for housing, not for food and not for travel.

It costs $2.2 MILLION dollars A DAY to keep this miracle in Memphis open and saving lives…and it all comes from donations. (That’s SIXTY-SIX million dollars a month for those of you doing the math). Here’s another fact that just might blow your mind – 75% of the money that comes in is from individual donors and the average gift is a beautiful and heartfelt $35. Think about this fact the next time you head out to dinner, or pay your monthly gym membership.

$35 is life giving. 

Power of 5 – Two years ago, I visited Zambia, Africa as part of the Power of 5 Program and that experience has never left my soul. There is so much I take for granted. My small people have enough food to fill their bellies every day. They have electricity and education. I sat with mothers who worry daily their children may not make it to the age of five. They worry….are their children getting the nutrients they need to grow and thrive?

It is heartbreaking that in many cases, that answer had been no, but Amway™ and its Nutrilite™ Power of 5 Campaign are making great strides, one child, one family at a time. As the largest vitamin distributor in the world, Amway provides a micronutrient supplement to families with great need in five different areas around Lusaka (as well as ten other countries around the world.)

This micronutrient is mixed with a child’s food once a day in order to provide the nutrition they need.

Every 30 days, the families I met, along with 200+ other families trek to one of five distribution centers in Lusaka, Zambia to listen to an educational talk, see their children weighed and measured for tracking and pick up their monthly nutrition, their Little Bits, for their little ones.

Amway is doing this work in nearly a dozen countries – with a commitment to continue expanding.

Consider supporting them?

Heifer International – This is a beautiful way to gift a tangible item that is life-changing for a family in need. For 70 years now, they have been working to combat poverty in some of the areas that need it the most (125 countries around the world) – but not simply by  – if you will allow the adage – giving men and women fish, but actually teaching them how to fish. Their goal has long been to provide farmers with the opportunity to learn skills and change their circumstances rather than strictly benefitting from gifts from others.

A goat can be purchased for $120 and once given to a family, not only will it be a source of food for them – milk, cheese and yogurt, but these products can be packaged and sold at market, helping the family to earn an income they so desperately need. Other animal gift options include a heifer (naturally) for $500, an alpaca for $150, a pig for $120, rabbits for $60, honeybees for $30, a flock of chicks for $20 and so many more. If the amount you would like to give is less, you can also gift a portion of any of these animals. They also support women’s empowerment and there are ways you can give specifically to this category.

As part of their core mission, Heifer supports Passing on the Gift – this means the families who are gifted don’t allow that gift to stop with them. They share the training they receive and pass on the first female offspring of their livestock to another family.

Check out their gift catalog.

How do you give back this time of year? I would love to hear any additional ideas you would add to this list.

Happy Holidays! And happy giving.

    The post Give Good, Get Good: Gifts that Give appeared first on Pretty Extraordinary.

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[yes-dal456]

If We're Going To Change The World, Living Off The Grid Isn't Enough

When author Mark Sundeen set out to write his latest book, he thought he would be telling a story of Americans living off the grid, eschewing conveniences like electricity and cellphones for “the simple life.”

But it wasn’t long before Sundeen began to question his premise. Decamping to the countryside and living off the land, he suspected, was neither as straightforward nor as revolutionary as Americans daydreaming of tiny houses, solar panels and vegetable gardens might think. Rather than looking for people avoiding the institutions they abhorred, he decided to seek people actively working to create new norms.

That pivot led Sundeen to the three families at the heart of The Unsettlers: In Search of the Good Life in Today’s America, published this week. The families, living in Victor, Montana; La Plata, Missouri; and Detroit, share visions of an American dream stripped of most luxuries. And instead of just talking about it, they’re actually doing it.

The author shows the triumph and struggle in the families’ quests. But above all, their stories display tenacity and perseverance that is, at times, hard to imagine in the face of great challenges and sacrifices. 

The Huffington Post recently spoke with Sundeen about his work, and why — in today’s world — its message of grit is perhaps more timely than ever.

What inspired you to go about writing this book — to find these people who have turned to living off the land and off the grid?

Basically, the book is about families with children who are living in ethical dissent to the economy and the government, and doing so in a way that they don’t lose their mind or soul. In fact, they find joy in what they do. I guess the joy part of it is important because if you look at the problems we face as a society — from war to racism to species extinction — you tend to feel so helpless. Part of the reason you feel so helpless is because we feel entirely dependent on the industries that are destroying us.

We hate the banks, we hate Wall Street, but we’re the bank’s customers. We have mortgages, credit cards and bank accounts that enrich the banks.  We hate Big Ag and GMOs and soil depletion, but unless we’re growing our own food, it’s pretty hard to extract yourself from that system. And we might hate the oil companies and global warming, but everything we touch in our society is either made of or delivered by oil. So how do we go from there without being completely depressed? The people I was after were not those who just dropped out, but those who were trying to invent innovative systems to replace those.

How did you find these people who are innovating?

Once I met all three of the families, I knew they were the ones who told the stories I wanted to tell, and in most cases were telling a story I hadn’t even heard of yet. Ironically, I found the couple in Missouri that didn’t use the internet or any electricity or cellphones after posting a note on Facebook looking for people living off the grid with children. Through a series of contacts and connections, I was given their landline phone number and I called them up. The Montana family was easiest to find because they were friends of friends and I was living in Missoula at the time.

I found the Detroit family as I started to meet and interview people you might call “preppers” living in rural America. They were largely white and privileged, and they were sort of preparing for the collapse. But I started to think the collapse has already arrived in places like New Orleans and Detroit, and the people who suffer are not white, middle-class, educated preppers. They are largely poor people of color.

How is what these families are doing different from off-grid living?

When I got started, I thought the book would be about people living off the grid, which turned out to be the least interesting thing about them. In the ‘60s and ‘70s, off the grid meant living in dissent with the global economy. Today, you can be off the grid in a solar-powered house and, like, trading stocks on the internet. I realized that being off the grid was not a big deal in terms of transforming society.

America has this ethos that you can have whatever you want and live the dream, but these people say, “No, you can’t have it all.” And by deliberately choosing not to have it, they might be more rich in a non-material way.

So much of the book centers around food. You spent a lot of time with these families and shared a number of meals. Did you have a favorite one?

The first meal that pops to mind is one I had with the Possibility Alliance [in Missouri]. Every Friday, Ethan [Hughes] would have a big feast and he cooks this amazing spread with roasted peppers and fresh greens. What was memorable about it was that they had fresh beef from their neighbor, and since they don’t have refrigeration, the only way they could get beef is if their neighbor kills a cow and walks over across the street and asks if they want some beef.

It was a truly local meal in every sense because these people don’t have chocolate and coffee and condiments. There were just some Concord grapes off the vine and some berries and then dessert with fresh cream that had just been pulled from the cows and sweetened with honey.

I think the sort of food movement has become mixed up as a luxury item, as something that fancy people do because they have snooty taste. But of course, it’s actually the opposite. It’s not about consumption, it’s about production. And that was evidenced by this meal, where everything had come from either their land or their neighbors’ land.

Speaking of the food movement, the families you interviewed all had a complex relationship with it. Why do you think that is?

The local food movement began as a sort of changing of the means of production, of using appropriate technology. Now, it’s transformed into this elitist sort of consumption. It’s like you want to eat whatever fresh garlic scapes, organic kohlrabi or whatever exotic vegetables you can find. In some ways, it’s become its own enemy.

As Luci [Brieger] mentioned [in the book], if you’re buying organic grapes flown in from Peru in the middle of winter, you’ve missed the entire point. It’s true you’re not eating any pesticides, but you’re causing this plane to fly grapes from South America. It’s insane.

I was also fascinated that Greg and Olivia [Willerer] refused to deal with Whole Foods, which so many people saw coming to Detroit as a huge victory because fresh, organic, healthy food had arrived in a food desert. But to them, it was just a corporation sucking money out of Detroit and putting it into shareholder pockets.

The current political climate seems to provide a particularly interesting backdrop to this idea of creating alternative ways of living. Obviously, you couldn’t quite anticipate that.

I definitely had no idea when I was writing this that Donald Trump would be president and, sadly, this book has become much more relevant now. Writing this during the Obama age, I thought a fair criticism of these people would be that they’re like Chicken Little, thinking the world is so terrible that we have to create a new one. But I think millions more of people are suddenly saying we live in a corrupt petrostate in which our government is taking an active role in destroying our world, so how can we fight it, resist it and stop it? It seemed very prophetic to me.

What do you hope people will take away from reading this book?

I hope the book is totally inspiring to people, though I don’t think many people who read this will follow the path these people did. They didn’t just one day decide to do this, they spent 10, 15, 30 years gradually getting to where they are now. To farm on vacant lots in Detroit, these people have to love it. 

This is their dream, and they have the courage, the willpower and the strength to do it. I’m not totally sure that what they’re doing is replicable on a large scale, but in these times where we feel so powerless and we can’t even make basic, free-will decisions to live ethical and meaningful lives, I’m inspired by the people who have the courage to pursue these dreams that seem nuts to everyone else. Watching them might inspire other people to at least say, hey, I might not be able to live without electricity, but I might get out of debt or stop using so much oil and gas.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

―-

Joseph Erbentraut covers promising innovations and challenges in the areas of food and water. In addition, Erbentraut explores the evolving ways Americans are identifying and defining themselves. Follow Erbentraut on Twitter at @robojojo. Tips? Email joseph.erbentraut@huffingtonpost.com.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from http://ift.tt/2jNjJp4 from Blogger http://ift.tt/2ioWGvs

[imreviewblog]

If We're Going To Change The World, Living Off The Grid Isn't Enough

When author Mark Sundeen set out to write his latest book, he thought he would be telling a story of Americans living off the grid, eschewing conveniences like electricity and cellphones for “the simple life.”

But it wasn’t long before Sundeen began to question his premise. Decamping to the countryside and living off the land, he suspected, was neither as straightforward nor as revolutionary as Americans daydreaming of tiny houses, solar panels and vegetable gardens might think. Rather than looking for people avoiding the institutions they abhorred, he decided to seek people actively working to create new norms.

That pivot led Sundeen to the three families at the heart of The Unsettlers: In Search of the Good Life in Today’s America, published this week. The families, living in Victor, Montana; La Plata, Missouri; and Detroit, share visions of an American dream stripped of most luxuries. And instead of just talking about it, they’re actually doing it.

The author shows the triumph and struggle in the families’ quests. But above all, their stories display tenacity and perseverance that is, at times, hard to imagine in the face of great challenges and sacrifices. 

The Huffington Post recently spoke with Sundeen about his work, and why — in today’s world — its message of grit is perhaps more timely than ever.

What inspired you to go about writing this book — to find these people who have turned to living off the land and off the grid?

Basically, the book is about families with children who are living in ethical dissent to the economy and the government, and doing so in a way that they don’t lose their mind or soul. In fact, they find joy in what they do. I guess the joy part of it is important because if you look at the problems we face as a society — from war to racism to species extinction — you tend to feel so helpless. Part of the reason you feel so helpless is because we feel entirely dependent on the industries that are destroying us.

We hate the banks, we hate Wall Street, but we’re the bank’s customers. We have mortgages, credit cards and bank accounts that enrich the banks.  We hate Big Ag and GMOs and soil depletion, but unless we’re growing our own food, it’s pretty hard to extract yourself from that system. And we might hate the oil companies and global warming, but everything we touch in our society is either made of or delivered by oil. So how do we go from there without being completely depressed? The people I was after were not those who just dropped out, but those who were trying to invent innovative systems to replace those.

How did you find these people who are innovating?

Once I met all three of the families, I knew they were the ones who told the stories I wanted to tell, and in most cases were telling a story I hadn’t even heard of yet. Ironically, I found the couple in Missouri that didn’t use the internet or any electricity or cellphones after posting a note on Facebook looking for people living off the grid with children. Through a series of contacts and connections, I was given their landline phone number and I called them up. The Montana family was easiest to find because they were friends of friends and I was living in Missoula at the time.

I found the Detroit family as I started to meet and interview people you might call “preppers” living in rural America. They were largely white and privileged, and they were sort of preparing for the collapse. But I started to think the collapse has already arrived in places like New Orleans and Detroit, and the people who suffer are not white, middle-class, educated preppers. They are largely poor people of color.

How is what these families are doing different from off-grid living?

When I got started, I thought the book would be about people living off the grid, which turned out to be the least interesting thing about them. In the ‘60s and ‘70s, off the grid meant living in dissent with the global economy. Today, you can be off the grid in a solar-powered house and, like, trading stocks on the internet. I realized that being off the grid was not a big deal in terms of transforming society.

America has this ethos that you can have whatever you want and live the dream, but these people say, “No, you can’t have it all.” And by deliberately choosing not to have it, they might be more rich in a non-material way.

So much of the book centers around food. You spent a lot of time with these families and shared a number of meals. Did you have a favorite one?

The first meal that pops to mind is one I had with the Possibility Alliance [in Missouri]. Every Friday, Ethan [Hughes] would have a big feast and he cooks this amazing spread with roasted peppers and fresh greens. What was memorable about it was that they had fresh beef from their neighbor, and since they don’t have refrigeration, the only way they could get beef is if their neighbor kills a cow and walks over across the street and asks if they want some beef.

It was a truly local meal in every sense because these people don’t have chocolate and coffee and condiments. There were just some Concord grapes off the vine and some berries and then dessert with fresh cream that had just been pulled from the cows and sweetened with honey.

I think the sort of food movement has become mixed up as a luxury item, as something that fancy people do because they have snooty taste. But of course, it’s actually the opposite. It’s not about consumption, it’s about production. And that was evidenced by this meal, where everything had come from either their land or their neighbors’ land.

Speaking of the food movement, the families you interviewed all had a complex relationship with it. Why do you think that is?

The local food movement began as a sort of changing of the means of production, of using appropriate technology. Now, it’s transformed into this elitist sort of consumption. It’s like you want to eat whatever fresh garlic scapes, organic kohlrabi or whatever exotic vegetables you can find. In some ways, it’s become its own enemy.

As Luci [Brieger] mentioned [in the book], if you’re buying organic grapes flown in from Peru in the middle of winter, you’ve missed the entire point. It’s true you’re not eating any pesticides, but you’re causing this plane to fly grapes from South America. It’s insane.

I was also fascinated that Greg and Olivia [Willerer] refused to deal with Whole Foods, which so many people saw coming to Detroit as a huge victory because fresh, organic, healthy food had arrived in a food desert. But to them, it was just a corporation sucking money out of Detroit and putting it into shareholder pockets.

The current political climate seems to provide a particularly interesting backdrop to this idea of creating alternative ways of living. Obviously, you couldn’t quite anticipate that.

I definitely had no idea when I was writing this that Donald Trump would be president and, sadly, this book has become much more relevant now. Writing this during the Obama age, I thought a fair criticism of these people would be that they’re like Chicken Little, thinking the world is so terrible that we have to create a new one. But I think millions more of people are suddenly saying we live in a corrupt petrostate in which our government is taking an active role in destroying our world, so how can we fight it, resist it and stop it? It seemed very prophetic to me.

What do you hope people will take away from reading this book?

I hope the book is totally inspiring to people, though I don’t think many people who read this will follow the path these people did. They didn’t just one day decide to do this, they spent 10, 15, 30 years gradually getting to where they are now. To farm on vacant lots in Detroit, these people have to love it. 

This is their dream, and they have the courage, the willpower and the strength to do it. I’m not totally sure that what they’re doing is replicable on a large scale, but in these times where we feel so powerless and we can’t even make basic, free-will decisions to live ethical and meaningful lives, I’m inspired by the people who have the courage to pursue these dreams that seem nuts to everyone else. Watching them might inspire other people to at least say, hey, I might not be able to live without electricity, but I might get out of debt or stop using so much oil and gas.

This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

―-

Joseph Erbentraut covers promising innovations and challenges in the areas of food and water. In addition, Erbentraut explores the evolving ways Americans are identifying and defining themselves. Follow Erbentraut on Twitter at @robojojo. Tips? Email joseph.erbentraut@huffingtonpost.com.

-- This feed and its contents are the property of The Huffington Post, and use is subject to our terms. It may be used for personal consumption, but may not be distributed on a website.

from Healthy Living - The Huffington Post http://huff.to/2ioWvk0