#i saw a photo set of my wife and then scrolled up real fast to see who it was then down to see the tags and laser.focused

[flintbian]

I am LASER FOCUSED IN on one of my mutuals tags rn. Laser. Focused. In

[mrfeenysmustache]

#5 and SessKag 😬

HELL YEAH SESSKAG. Also hello best friend 🥲 you’ll be seeing this when you wake up so good morning 🥲

This one ended up a wee bit longer than the others lol

“Home stopped being a place when you entered my life”

#5 on the fluff prompt list

She’d met him at a party.

A Christmas party.

He stood stiff and awkward in the corner, a head and shoulders taller than everyone else, his crisp, fitted suit clashing with the silly holiday sweaters the rest of them wore.

“That’s my brother,” Inuyasha, her best friend and brother-in-law, whispered to her as he passed her a cup of punch, “we just reunited and the family aint too happy about it.” and she understood.

She made her way over, determined to bring him into the fold, or at least make him feel more at ease and welcome.

“Hello,” she greeted, his golden eyes slanting her way. “I’m Kagome, Kikyo’s sister. You know, Inuyasha’s wife?”

“Hn.” He responded with a nod in her direction. “Sesshomaru.”

“It’s so nice to meet you! Can I get you a drink?”

She watched his nose twitch discreetly as he scented the drink in her hand, and then his lip curled up just slightly in disgust.

“Oh, not one of these.” She giggled in response, “I know where they keep the key to the liquor cabinet.”

He relaxed just the slightest iota, and she practically beamed.

“Whisky on the rocks.”

“Coming right up!”

He sipped his drink slowly as she filled him in on every name, occupation and marital status.

Aside from Kikyo and Inuyasha, they had Koga, the bachelor bartender, Sango and Miroku, the married couple who owned a sweet shop, and..

“Me, and I’m a nurse.”

“No significant other?”

His voice, deep and rich, made the hair stand up on her arms in a pleasant way, but she resolutely ignored it.

“Nope! It’s just me.”

“Hn.”

He said little else, but she didn’t get the impression that he was annoyed, so she stayed near him as the party progressed.

“Bye everyone!” She called from the door when it was time to go. “It was so good to finally meet you Sesshomaru, I hope you’ll be around more often!”

He gave her a nod and a little smile, and she went home for a peaceful night’s sleep.

——

He was there for their next group dinner. Inuyasha warned them in hushed tones before he arrived that he may be in a foul mood.

“Things with the family have gotten worse. He barely talks so it’s hard to know what’s happened. I know they don’t like that he’s reconciled with me after they tried to completely shut me and my mom out for not being yokai, but I think there’s more he hasn’t told me. Just don’t be surprised if he’s moody this time.”

“As opposed to how warm and conversational he was at the Christmas party?” Koga quipped, laughing with Miroku and igniting Kagome’s fe mper.

“Well I thought he was nice!” she cut in, blushing when several sets of stunned eyes turned on her at once. “He was!”

“Yeah we saw you two getting cozy in the corner all night.” Miroku said, waggling his brow suggestively.

“We weren’t ‘getting cozy’ you insufferable letch. He looked lonely and uncomfortable so I talked to him. That’s all. And he was nice.” She shrugged, and then the conversation died as Sesshomaru himself swept in.

He took the only seat open, the one next to her, and Kagome felt her heart twist as he simply sat and covered his face with his hands, ignoring everyone else as they chatted and cut up.

Enjoying time with her friends felt hollow with such a wounded soul sitting next to her, but she knew so little about Sesshomaru she worried she might cross some unnamed boundary.

She took a large gulp of her drink and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.

“Sesshomaru… are you alright?” She asked quietly, speaking soft enough to avoid getting the attention of her friends but loud enough that he would hear. After a long moment where she was sure he wouldn’t respond, he pulled his hands away from his face and slowly reached into his pocket. He pulled out his cellphone and tapped the screen once, lighting up a photo of a cute, smiling little human girl with melting brown eyes.

She looked between him and the phone screen, unsure what he was trying to communicate, but certain it was connected to the cause of his dark mood.

“This is Rin.” He clarified, voice pitched low and for her ears only.

“She’s adorable.”

“Hn. She is my daughter.” He met her eyes, and the gold of his glowed firm and defensive.

Suddenly, everything made a lot of shocking sense.

“They don’t like that you’ve adopted a human, do they? Your family?”

“No. They do not.”

Pulling her purse off the back of her chair, Kagome retrieved her own phone. She scrolled through her pictures for just a moment, until she found just the one she was looking for: a grinning little Fox boy holding up a scribbly crayon drawing.

She tilted her screen over, and Sesshomaru leaned nearer to see.

“My son.” She said simply, and though his reaction was so subtle no one sitting any farther away from him than her would notice, Kagome thought she’d seen him sag in relief.

“We should get them together for a play date.” She suggested, and they exchanged numbers with plans to do just that.

————-

Rin and Shippo got along swimmingly, and, surprisingly, so did she and Sesshomaru. He’d grown comfortable enough with her that their conversation consisted of more than just her babbling at him and hoping he was listening. They shared their adoption stories, how they’d found their children and came to be their parents, the challenges that came with adopting children outside your species, he opened up about the backlash he’d faced from his family when he first brought Rin home, backlash he’d expected but hoped against hope he was wrong about.

“Once she warmed my heart and showed me the folly of clinging to the prejudices I’d been raised with, I reached out to Inuyasha in hopes of establishing a relationship with my only sibling. I’d never even met him before, as he and his mother were never allowed around the family before father died. Afterward, everyone acted as if neither ever existed. Likewise, Rin will never meet the rest of her relatives.”

Kagome watched the two children chase each other as they squealed with laughter. Uncomplicated fun between a yokai child and a human child. Completely different species, but alike enough to play.

“If she ever needs a grandmother, I’m certain my mama would take her right in. She’s loved getting to spoil Shippo.”

He smiled, small but true, and she went a little starry eyed at the beauty of it.

“Hn. I will keep it in mind.”

————

Play dates evolved into real dates, and though her friends teased them, they took it in stride. Quiet and controlled in public, Sesshomaru was soft and demonstrative with her in private. She’d never felt so secure in a relationship before, and the firm but nurturing hand he had with both children made them all feel safe.

They spent more time all together than apart, and soon life felt empty if they weren’t all together.

Sesshomaru occasionally came over with a dark cloud over his head after a particularly nasty clash with family, but she’d simply run her fingers through his hair until the knots of tension were soothed. He was a strong, yokai influence for Shippo to learn from; she was a tender human mother for Rin to thrive from, and when Sesshomaru asked if they could join their families together permanently, no question in her life had ever had an easier answer.

And no answer had ever had such drastic consequences.

News got out and around fast, and one night, less than a week after their joyous engagement, Sesshomaru and Rin showed up at her door with a suitcase each, and dour faces.

“We need a place to stay…. A place to live.”

“Oh my gods, come in both of you.”

They spoke nothing of it at first.

Kagome kept busy feeding the children, getting them bathed, and tucking them in together to giggle h see their covers before falling asleep.

As soon as their door was firmly shut, she sat at the table across from Sesshomaru and laced her fingers through his.

“I have been disowned and disinherited.”

Unsure what to say, Kagome simply squeezed his hand.

“They tolerated the fact that I’d adopted a human daughter, but they would not stand for me falling into my father’s footsteps and marrying a human woman. My choices were my standing in the family, or you.”

Tears filled her eyes as him being here could only mean one thing: he’d chosen her.

“Oh Sesshomaru. I’m so sorry.”

“As the house I resided in was family property I was no longer allowed to stay, and I was fired from my father’s company and stripped of all my rights to any part of it. I’m afraid I come here with nothing to offer you now.”

She stood and rushed around the table and into his arms, hunkering down into his strength, hopefully lending her own.

“Stop that. I don’t want anything but you and Rin. That’s all I need. I’m just so sorry you had to lose your home because of me.”

He rested his chin atop her head and let her scent calm him.

“My home.” He mused, looking around the tiny apartment he’d hoped to move her out of soon when they were able to merge their lives into one. It would be cramped with all four of them there full time, but it was already chock full of their memories. They would figure it out.

“My home stopped being a place when you entered my life, Kagome.”

She wept and he held her, one of the only treasures he had left in the world, while the other two slept soundly and happily in their bed.

[ashdoescomics]

alright tumblr let’s get theorizing

Chase. #1 trending on YouTube currently, and one of the biggest things the JSE community has been waiting for. Evident from some asks, Sean himself said that this is the most information put out about Chase and it’s jam packed with background hidden in plot points and setups. Now, I’m no Sherlock Holmes, but my AP English classes have taught me how to write so you bet I’m gonna put that knowledge to use. (cue Ryan Bergara BFU voiceover) With that being said, let’s get into some theories. ((hey!! scroll all the way down to the bottom of this long ass post for the TL;DR if you don’t wanna read it all!!))

We open with Chase entering the scene of what is presumably his house/apartment. An eviction notice is taped on his door, which states that he must vacate the premises no later than September of 2019. Eviction notices are only given to a a judgment debtor (which is specified in the notice itself), meaning that Chase probably hasn’t paid his rent in full, or at all for that matter. This can be further backed up by the fact that in the very first video where we were introduced to Chase Brody, he seemed to be making his “Bro Average” videos as a way of not only coping with his failed marriage, but for coming up with a paycheck. Videos can possibly be his source of income, and it would make sense that as a struggling content creator, Chase is only living by scraping up what he has left (which I think explains the excited facade he puts up throughout the “Bro Average” vids despite his true depressed nature).

Chase then goes to his car and opens the driver’s side door, from which garbage spills out. This could be symbolic of the cluttered headspace Chase Brody has been in ever since the events of “Bro Average”, or it could also show that Chase has been evicted for some time now and spends his time living in his car (or both! We are theorizing after all!)

In this shot, where he rummages through his glove box, we catch a glimpse of the same whiskey bottle present in the end of the video “Tie- A Game About Depression”. This can be attributed to his coping mechanism of drinking, which is obviously a common theme surrounding Mr. Brody.

As he’s looking in the glove box, we see “another Sean” in the back seat, staring at Chase. As of right now, this scene can be totally up in the air as to what it means or if it’s real or not, but I just have a few thoughts on this. First, this could be a dreamlike sequence (which I’ll get back to later) in which Chase (or another ego) is looking back on the past and what happened to see what went wrong. Second, this could be taking place in real time, in which Chase’s manifestation of his inner demon is tangibly symbolized by another “him”. Seeing double usually symbolizes the duality of man or duality of a certain character, and Chase is no exception. Considering the mental state Chase must be in at this moment, it’s possible that this scene symbolizes the inner turmoil or torn feelings he has.

He pulls out a photo from his glove box, which we can assume to be of his wife Stacey and his unnamed kid, and proceeds to have a mental breakdown in his car, yelling and hitting his wheel. In most movies, this is a breaking point similar to a character punching a mirror or trashing up a room. Bottled up emotions from his past being triggered by one photo further solidifies Chase’s unstable mental state.

Fast forward a bit, and Chase decides to drive up to the woods, which seems to be a place that he holds dearly (more on that later). As previously mentioned, I just want to bring back up the possibility that this entire thing could be a dream or fantasy sequence, because of the strange use of a fish eye lens when Chase enters the woods. Fisheye lenses are used to make the photographed scene appear more panoramic and it’s typically a wide shot lens used for photos, but for some reason it stuck out to me when it was used in this video. Now, I could just be overanalyzing things here, but distortion lenses, when used in videos or movies, can be symbolic of a dreamlike sequence. This could mean that the woods section of this video is all just happening in his head, and the “extra Sean” we saw in the backseat of the car is just Chase reliving what happened in the past (implying that this entire video, up until the end where Chase is in the parking lot, happened in the past). BUT I DIGRESS

Chase walks through the woods and settles on a spot where a tower of rocks are balanced and thIS MY FRIENDS is where I found my most compelling piece of evidence. He pulls out the polaroid photo, kisses it, and sets it down at the base of the rock structure, and this was SUCH A BIG THING I had to google it. What I came up with was an article with the quote about balanced rocks: “These piles aren’t true cairns, the official term for deliberately stacked rocks. From middle Gaelic, the word means “mound of stones built as a memorial or landmark.” There are plenty of those in Celtic territories, that's for sure, as well as in other cultures; indigenous peoples in the United States often used cairns to cover and bury their dead. Those of us who like to hike through wilderness areas are glad to see the occasional cairn, as long as it's indicating the right way to go at critical junctions in the backcountry.” 

WELL WELL WELL look what we have HERE! These balanced rocks, aka cairns, act almost like headstones for the deceased and a path guide in the wilderness. Which, funny enough, is what we’re probably looking at right here in this shot! Chase putting the photo at the base of the cairn most likely means that his wife and child are unfortunately deceased, which may or may not be due to his own actions (reference back to Chase’s mental breakdown at the sight of the polaroid photo-- he doesn’t seem to take even just looking at the photo well). This cairn is also in a spot that Chase seems very familiar with, especially because he settles down fairly quickly, taking a swig of his whiskey on a boulder nearby. Chances are, there’s some history in this neck o’ the woods and it could be the spot of cherished memories with Chase’s family. I’d also like to point out that there is a certain scene at the end of one of Sean’s videos titled “Dark Silence”, in which we hear children’s screams and presumably Chase yelling, “What did you do to them?”. Could the death of his family and the ending of “Dark Silence” be tied together? POSSIBLY SO!! Am I implying that Anti might have some foul play involved with the Brody family?? MaYbEE!!! 

Finally, we reach the end of the 4 minute video, in which Chase is seemingly teleported to the top of a parking lot complex. He looks around confused and a little nervous or worried, and he checks over the edge of the railing and feels himself as if to make sure he’s in one piece. I think this is a strange detail to add in, especially since it’s the one we end on and are therefore stuck with. Personally, I think that the transition out of the woods sequence was Chase snapping back into reality, realizing that there’s something he has to do. Let me elaborate: the woods sequence sandwiched in between the beginning and the end of this short stuck out like a sore thumb to me. Unlike the start (where Chase is greeted with the eviction notice and he enters his car) and the end (where he ends up on the parking lot complex), the woods sequence in between is clearly different; taking place away from the city, nature is clearly evident and more dominant, and it’s taken in a warmer color. Now this might just be me and my “so-you’re-tryna-be-smart” ass, but the woods sequence seemed to be in a warmer light than the cooler ones in the beginning and end. Warmer tones usually have an underlying dream feel. What I’m tryna get at here is that the woods sequence we saw-- regardless of whether or not it actually happened-- might be a dream, and Chase “teleporting” to the parking lot was him snapping out of it. He seems dazed for a moment, which looks to me like he was planning to take his own life (we know he has a tendency for doing things like this from the “Bro Average” video), but appears surprised to snap out of it and remaining in one piece-- alive. Maybe he thought he jumped off, but snaps out to realize he didn’t??

This shit’s already getting too long so TL;DR, Chase was evicted from his home, gets depressed that he has to deal with not only this, but his broken family, decides that the only way to resolve his issues is to take his life by jumping off a parking lot complex, has a dream about his family’s resting place, then snaps out of it only to realize that jumping off isn’t his last hurrah, because there’s something else he has to do first.

JESUS CHRIST i hope you liked that entire thing! these are just my thoughts and surprisingly enough, my first theorizing contribution for the JSE community! i hope it makes sense,, my eyes hurt and i’m really tired and this took me 2 hours pls enjoy :,) 

@therealjacksepticeye

[5hfanfiction]

Why Did I Get Married? (Camren)

Part Nineteen: Romance

Most people don’t want to hear this, but real relationships that last requires a lot of forgiveness. Sometimes you just have to forgive. You have to accept the fact that your significant other isn’t perfect. They’re going to hurt you, they’re going to disappoint you and they’re going to upset you.

They’re only human, as are you.

You have to figure it out if you want to work shit out. You have to go through ups and downs, if at the ending of the day you want to wake up with them right next to you.

Be with someone who you don’t have to hide from, in any way. Whether it’s your morning face before you’ve put your makeup on. Whether it’s an embarrassing story that happened to you on your way to work…make sure you can tell them it all. Make sure you end up with someone who still loves you. A person who you can tell your whole life to, is a person worth spending the rest of your life with.

Camila groaned as the sunlight shone through the windows to her bedroom. She turned her head to the right and saw that Lauren was fast asleep. The peacefulness of her wife’s facial expression made her smile. She ran her index finger over the woman’s face, tracing her features. The action causing Lauren to unconsciously fan away whatever that was disturbing her.

Camila giggled and placed a chaste kiss on her wife’s forehead. She tossed the duvet off her body and headed to get ready for the day ahead of her. The only thing at the back of her mind was her assignment that her therapist wanted to her perform. She had an idea about what she wanted to do, but when it came to Lauren these days, she was unbelievably awkward.

Stepping out of the shower some thirty minutes after, she saw Lauren sitting up and busy on her laptop. It was a Saturday but she was always working. It had gotten worse since her trip to Milan. Of course she managed to balance her time between her family and work, but she never really had any time for herself.

“Good morning, mi amor,” Camila placed a kiss on her wife’s cheek. “What are you doing working already?”

Lauren smiled when she felt her wife’s lips against her cheek. “Good morning. I’m just trying to get some work done. Izzy wants us to take her to see the Incredibles 2 this evening. So I want to get everything out of the way.” Camila nodded in understanding. “Do you mind making breakfast?”

“Do you mind dying at only 26?”

The photographer snorted. “You’re not that horrible in the kitchen, babe. Your eggs are…” She paused. “Eggscellent.”

Camila rolled her eyes and laughed. “You did not just make a terrible egg pun.”

“Oh, but I just did.”

The young Argentinean took a seat on the bed and scrolled through her phone. A silence fell between the two. Camila decided to interact with her fans on Twitter for a bit, until she saw a text from her manager.

Roger: Do you think we can meet up today?

Camila: Pretty short notice but why?

Roger: We need you to do a photo shoot for the CC3 era. I already have everything lined up. We just need to run through some things and we can dive right into it.

Camila reread the text and paused. She loved doing these photo shoots. It was always fun and she had loved dressing up, but for the first time in forever, she just wasn’t feeling it.

That’s when it hit her.

Camila: Roge…I have an idea. I’ll call you in 20. I have to make some breakfast for Izzy.

***

“Camz..” Lauren stressed on her wife’s nickname. “Are you sure that you want me to do this?”

Camila nodded. She had a robe wrapped around her body, as she was sat being styled by her hairdresser. Roger was a distance off making phone calls as he left Lauren to set up for her pictures. “I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else. This album means a lot to me, Laur. And having you as my photographer would be even better.”

Lauren sighed. They were currently in a somewhat abandoned house. It wasn’t run down, but it looked as though people hadn’t been in it for years. Once Camila informed her wife about what she wanted to do, and given that Lauren had listened to the album, an idea immediately popped into her head.

The house was empty, dark, and abandoned; it was a representation of how Camila felt. About the way someone would feel after getting their heartbroken. The emptiness in their heart, the darkness overpowering the light or any sort of happiness that tries to make it’s way into it. The person feels abandoned by their loved one. By the person who promised them a forever but willingly hurt them and left them in the dark alone.

Once Camila was finished, Lauren had instructed her on what to do. “Are you ready?” The singer nodded. “Play, ‘I Have Questions’.” Lauren instructed one of her employees. It was to set the mood for the photo shoot. She had intended to play Camila’s songs in the background to allow her wife to feel the lyrics and to be able to portray her emotions, so that she would be able to capture them.

After almost two hours, they had captured close to one hundred photos. Every picture being perfect in Lauren’s eyes, but her wife being a perfectionist would’ve found a way to get a few that she would deem as 'perfect’.

“That was incredible,” Lauren stepped into her wife’s changing room. She wrapped her arms around Camila’s waist from behind, Camila’s hands instantly finding Lauren’s. She placed her chin on her shoulder and looked at Camila through the mirror. “I still don’t know why you chose me.”

Her wife rolled her eyes. “You’re the best photographer I know. I can’t wait to see the finished work.”

“I’ll work on them tonight or in the morning since you’re so excited. I’ll tell my other clients that I have a diva and she demanded her work before them.” Camila pulled out of her wife’s embrace and pouted.

“I’m not a diva!”

Lauren threw her head back in laughter. “I’m only messing with you, Camila. I want to make it perfect for you. So I’ll start soon.”

“Listen, Laur?”

“Yeah?”

Camila fixed her bomber jacket and took a seat on the table top. “I want to do something. I want to send a message to my fans about this album. Can you videotape me?”

Lauren nodded and took her wife’s iPhone from her. “Is this cool with your manager?”

She shrugged. “I guess.” Lauren shook her head with a smile on her face. “There’s so many people out there who are stuck. Who’s in a loveless relationship and just don’t want to let go in hopes that the person would change. I don’t know if this album can help people to realise what true love is supposed to be, but I want to be able to send a message to them.”

Lauren had opened her mouth and was about to respond but Camila cut her off. She gestured for her wife to come closer and took her hand in hers.

“I’m not referring to us anymore, amor. It’s just the album can speak to people, I know it can. It’s just that people are so scared to let go of something and to find better.” Lauren took a moment to absorb what her wife was telling her. “I love you. Now record me!”

Lauren chuckled. “I love you too. Ready?”

Camila nodded. Her wife hit 'live’ on her wife’s Instagram as she began to speak. “Hey, guys. It’s Camila here, with my beautiful wife, Lauren.” She took the phone from her wife and had turned it on her. Lauren almost screamed. She was usually the one behind the camera, never on it. So this was a bit too awkward for her liking. She did the 'sup’ moment with her head and took back Camila’s phone. “She’s shy.” Camila laughed. “I’m going to be a bit unorthodox here and announce my upcoming album entitled, 'The Hurting, The Healing, The Loving.’ A release date hasn’t been fixed just yet, but CC3 is coming guys!” She cheered childishly causing Lauren to laugh in the background. “This album is extremely close to my heart. I’ve poured so many emotions into this and I hope you guys would feel them, to whom it relates to and be able to appreciate it.”

Camila’s other two albums were also; what she deemed to be 'her babies’. She was always proud of what she put out. Every song she wrote, even though she may have never experienced it personally, she wrote it from her heart. She wanted to be able to connect with people who were going through some tough times, and for her music to give them strength so that they can know that they’re not alone.

“When I wrote this album, I was experiencing and inward battle that I couldn’t bring myself to talk to anyone about. I was neglecting my child and my wife. But I’m only human and we all make mistakes. What matters is that we learn from it, and we strive to be a better person,” Camila ran a hand through her hair and stared directly back at her wife. “I’m not saying that I’m perfect now, but I’m trying to be, for my family and myself.” Camila paused trying to collect her thoughts. She wasn’t about to be all in her feelings to her fans. Though she had been countless times. “This album is dear to my heart. The perspective has changed now from when I was writing it. It’s about heartbreak. It’s about feeling as though you’re not good enough. It’s about messing up. But it’s also about finding your way back to yourself and loving yourself again.”

The Hurting, The Healing, The Loving.

“The album is sectioned off into three parts. One; the hurting. Where I think if not all, some of us would be able to relate to. It’s sometimes not a romantic love, but you know…another type of love that can break our hearts. Where you’re just there, laying, staring straight up at the wall with all these questions swirling around your head, wondering whether you’re good enough.” Camila sighed. She knows that feeling all too well. It wasn’t just Lauren but her father as well. She questioned whether or not it was possible to love her.

“Section two; The Healing. The finding who you are again. The slowly but surely realising that it’s not entirely your fault. Because you can’t make somebody want you. No matter how hard you try. That’s when you realise that maybe the hurt wasn’t for nothing, but rather it was a lesson to teach you something.” Lauren was hanging off of every word that her wife was saying. She had listened to the album, and she may have understood the meaning of the lyrics, but it’s different when it’s coming out of the source’s mouth. “But you can’t just seem to let go of the hurt. Maybe it won’t matter in thirty years from now. Maybe you wouldn’t even remember the person’s name, but right now?” Camila shrugged. “Right now it matters and it fucking hurts. And I know you’re still trying to be okay with that. And you know what? That’s okay. You need to let it hurt, and hurt, and hurt, until it can’t hurt you anymore.”

Camila’s lips were trembling. She was trying so hard no to cry. Lauren looked at her, silently asking if she was okay, and she nodded. “I’m fine.” She said trying to convince herself. “And I know it’s not fucking easy. I know it hurts, and you’re sitting there overthinking, a million questions running through your head. Unable to sleep. Wondering where you went wrong. Creating hundreds of different scenarios in hopes that it’ll heal that wound in your heart. Going through a list of mental regrets. But the thing is, you can’t keep blaming yourself for someone else’s inability to provide the type of love you deserve. Today is just like any other day…difficult as hell. But you know what you’re gonna do?” She stared at the camera. Trying to urge her fans on. Trying to encourage them to not give up. “You’re going to do what you’ve always done. You’re gonna get over it. You’ll be fine. You’ll get through it and blossom into the best version of you that you can be.”

She inhaled deeply. “Lastly, The Loving.” Camila smiled softly. “I’m finally on that path now. I’m learning to love myself again. I’m rediscovering a whole new love for my life and everyone in it. Despite the challenges, it shouldn’t be able to stop you from loving. Love is the purest form of magic out there. And in the world that we live in? We need all the magic we can get.” Camila wiped at her eyes. “I just want you guys to know that you’re not weak. You’re brave. You’re strong for fighting to get back up. When you felt the world falling apart around you, you guys found strength in your struggle. You found the resilience to move forward. And even though you may still feel heartbroken and even though your heart may be broke at times, you know the best is yet to come.” She smiled proudly at the camera. “Not giving up is something to be damn proud of…and if no one has ever told you this before…I am damn proud of you guys. Every single one of you.”

Camila gestured for her wife to take a seat next to her. Lauren kinked an eyebrow but did as she was told, flipping camera to the front. “My beautiful wife again, kids.” She placed a kiss on Lauren’s cheek. “I want to admit something to you guys, and to you Laur.” Camila took a deep breath in. “I couldn’t have made it where I am without this lovely woman by my side. She’s my number one fan. She’s my lifeline. My sanity. She’s the one my mind automatically drifts to before I go on stage. I still get nervous, but when I think of her?” Camila took Lauren’s free hand in hers and intertwined their fingers. “She calms every nervous thought. You need to have someone in your corner who’s utterly obsessed with you. Someone who’s in love with you, the way you’re in love with them. You need someone on your team and I’m glad it’s her.”

Lauren turned her head towards her wife, staring into her eyes. She could’ve seen the sincerity laced in them, and she couldn’t help the way her heart was pounding against her chest. Completely ignoring the fact that they were live on Camila’s Instagram, she connected their lips in a sweet but passionate kiss.

The comments on Camila’s live were going crazy but they paid no mind to them. They pulled away from the kiss, Camila blushing profusely.

“Uh…wow. I was supposed to keep this PG,” the singer laughed. “But anyway, y'all got a Camren kiss. Woo!” She cheered causing her wife to roll her eyes with a smile on her face. “But there you have it guys, my big album announcement. The links to pre-save it will be posted later today on my Twitter. Thank you for coming to my TED talk,” Camila threw up a terrible idea of a gang sign. “Love you guys.”

“Andddd…cut,” Lauren locked Camila’s phone and handed it back to her wife. “That was…wow, Camz. Your fans are going to love this album, I can already feel it.”

Camila placed an arm around her wife’s waist and rested her head on her shoulder, “I hope so.”

They remained in that position for a few minutes until Lauren’s phone went off. It was a text from Maggie saying that Izzy had already fallen asleep. The aunt-niece duo ended up spending the afternoon together after Izzy and her parents went to watch 'The Incredibles 2’. Lauren of course had hated the movie because she found that part 1 was better. But let’s be honest, the entire movie should’ve just shown Jack Jack and Edna Mode. The other characters were irrelevant.

The child was staying the night by her aunt because of Camila’s photo shoot, which meant that the couple was going to have the house to themselves.

Would Camila take that opportunity?

Probably.

***

“Laur?” Camila called out to her wife from a room in the house.

“Yeah?”

The younger woman inhaled and exhaled loudly. Her nerves were starting to get the better of her.

“Can you come here for a sec?”

A few seconds later, Lauren opened the door to their own little spa in their house, to be greeted to a sight she was not expecting, anytime soon that is.

Lauren stared at the candles that lined their Jacuzzi, to the flower petals that were floating around in the tub, to the bottle of her favourite; Carbernet Sauvignon wine with two glasses placed on the wide. Then her eyes drifted to her wife, who had a robe wrapped around her body as she tried gauging Lauren’s expression. The fact that the woman’s jaw was practically on the floor must’ve meant that she was indeed surprised but in a good way.

“Camz..” Lauren managed to let out. “What’s all this?”

Camila smiled. “Can’t I do something nice for my wife?”

The way Lauren was reacting had given Camila a sudden boost in confidence and managed to quell the nervousness that she had been feeling. She switched on the stereo and a song which she featured on with one of her dear friends; Bazzi’s 'Beautiful’ played softly throughout the room. She sauntered up to her wife and tugged her along to a bench, pushing Lauren a bit roughly to sit, Camila straddled her lap; bringing her wife’s hands to stay comfortably on her ass.

“Camz…I…uh…what’s…wow,” Lauren was trying her best to form any sort of coherent sentence but nothing was coming out.

Camila slipped her hand’s into Lauren’s hair. They stared into one another’s eyes; not searching for any answers because the way Camila’s heart was pounding in excitement against her chest and the hunger that could’ve been seen in Lauren’s, they didn’t need a 'green light’. Unable to contain themselves anymore, Lauren cupped Camila’s cheeks in her hands and pulled her into a fiery and passionate kiss. Her hands work their way around Camila’s body, feeling each crevasse, each line along her perfect physique.

Since their first kiss since forever, when Doctor Briggs had asked Lauren to initiate a kiss, the couple had shared pecks here and there, but nothing as passionate as this.

They pulled apart and opened their eyes. They stared at each other, as though they were seeing deep into each other’s souls. Their chests heaving up and down; the lack of oxygen, didn’t stop Lauren from pulling Camila back into a kiss.

She kissed Camila and the world fell away. Nothing else mattered in that moment. Just the two of them. It was slow and soft, comforting in ways that words would never be. Her hand rested below Camila’s ears, her thumb caressing the brunette’s cheek as their breaths mingled. Camila ran her fingers down Lauren’s spine, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

Until they could feel the beating of each other’s heart against their chest.

Camila gently pushed Lauren away. “Anymore and I think you’ll swallow me.”

Her wife couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her throat. “Anymore and I think Izzy might end up getting that baby brother she wants.”

Camila blushed and rolled her eyes. “There won’t be any baby brothers anytime soon.”

“Oh really?” Lauren kinked an eyebrow. She took one of her wife’s hands in hers and mindlessly started to play with Camila’s fingers. “Have I ever told you that you have nice hands?”

“You did. That was actually one of the very first things you ever told me,” Camila recalled their teenage years. When they had first met, Lauren would blurt out random things without thinking because the young Argentinean used to make her nervous. She still does at times even though they had been together for a decade. “You were so cute back then.”

Lauren clutched her chest dramatically and feigned hurt. “Are you insinuating that I’m not cute now?”

Camila laughed and ran her index finger along her wife’s jaw. “You’ve gotten a lot cuter since then. But now you’re utterly obsessed with me.” She inched closer to her wife and started leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw. Lauren let out a low moan. She wasn’t sure how she was going to control herself if her wife had kept doing these things. Camila placed a lingering kiss on her wife’s lips and smiled sweetly as though she didn’t notice the kind of effect she was having on her wife.

She got off Lauren, and walked towards their Jacuzzi that the couple hadn’t used together since their marriage started falling apart. Lauren followed her wife’s every movement with her eyes, until she stopped at the staircase leading down to the tub. She shrugged off her robe, to reveal a white, sleek and sexy bath suit underneath. The gasp that left her wife’s mouth was enough for Camila to know that she liked what she saw. Lauren’s eyes trailed over every curve, every imperfection of her wife’s body.

Camila slipped into the water and made herself comfortable. After a few seconds of silence, she addressed her wife who was sat on the bench where she left her. “Are you going to get in, or are you going to sit and stare all night long?” She smirked.

“I…uhh…yeah. I just need to change,” Lauren rambled. Camila pointed towards a Nike shorts and sports bra she had laid out for her wife.

“You can change in here if you like,” the singer suggested, but the way her wife seemed flustered, Camila tried her best not to laugh.

Before Lauren could process what she was doing, her fingers began to work its way down the line of buttons; unfastening them one by one. Camila’s eyes became glued to every movement that her wife was doing. She tossed off her shirt; a tingling sensation ran through Camila’s body by the sight of her shirtless wife. There was nothing more bewitching than Lauren’s naked form. In clothing, heads would turn, and without? Camila was glad that she was the only woman to witness this sight.

The way Lauren’s abs; though not that prominent flexed with every breath she took, Camila couldn’t take her eyes off her wife.

Why would she want to?

Lauren pulled on the sports bra and unfastened her pants; slipping on her shorts just as fast. Camila seemed to have had a permanent blush on her face. The older woman slid in beside her wife.

“Hi,” the green eyed woman grinned.

“Hi,” Camila breathed out. Lauren had a hand placed on her thigh; her breath was caught in her throat. It took everything within her to not jump her bones. “Do you want any wine?”

Lauren nodded. “I’ll take the bottle.”

Camila laughed. “Ah right. It must a Jauregui thing.”

“It’s not a 'Jauregui’ thing, it’s more like an adult thing,” Lauren took the glass of wine from her wife. “The older we get, we soon realise that you need a glass of wine to get through the day.”

The singer took a sip of wine and sighed as the contents went down her throat. “For me I need a cup of coffee. Alcohol just isn’t my thing. It never was.”

The two fell into a silence; occasionally sipping on the wine. Camila had her head resting on Lauren’s shoulder as she played with one of her hands. Meanwhile, Lauren would place an occasional kiss on the top of her wife’s head.

This was perfect.

“What was your first impression of me?” Lauren mumbled. She had her lips pressed to Camila’s head.

“Huh? Oh, I um..” Camila blushed and looked down. “I had a crush on you before we actually spoke to be honest.”

Lauren pulled away and looked at her wife in confusion. “You didn’t know I existed before that one Spanish project.”

The Argentinean shook her head 'no’. “I knew your name, remember? I actually heard you playing the piano during lunch time when I passed outside the music room. You sounded so good! I was walking with Dinah and a couple of my other friends, and when I heard the song, I had to stop. That’s when I saw the genius behind the piece…” Camila trailed off. “You were so focused on playing the right key, the intensity in your eyes…I just found it so attractive. Dinah told me your name. She spoke so highly of you, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk to you.”

“Why? I was a nobody.”

Camila shook her head 'no’. She took the glass from her wife and placed them to the side of the Jacuzzi. “You were always a somebody to me, Laur.” The singer threw a leg over her wife and straddled her lap. When I first heard your voice; I couldn’t help the way my heart reacted to it. When I first saw you smile, I couldn’t help but smile too. When I first kissed you, I felt all my walls crumble, but when you first said you love me?“ She leaned in closer until her lips were ghosting Lauren’s. "That’s when I knew I was done for. That’s when I knew it’s you. It’s you who I wanted to be with forever.”

Lauren connected their lips in a sweet kiss. She pulled Camila closer to her, her hands lightly massaging her ass; the action elicited a moan to escape the brunette’s lips. “I love you, mi amor. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Laur. Gosh,” she rested her forehead against the photographer’s. “I’m so glad we’re finding our way back to each other.”

Lauren lightly caressed Camila’s face. “Me too, Camz. Me too. I promise, I’ll never give up on you. I want this. I want you. I want us. I want to be with you until I’m old and grey.”

The younger woman playfully grabbed a random patch of hair. “You’re already greying, babe. Are you saying that you don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“You’re such a kid,” Lauren shook her head with a smile on her face. “I’ll always want to be with you. I can’t be me without you. My soul is so attached to yours. I can’t see a life without you.”

“I see nothing but forever in your eyes, amor.”

You see, there comes a time in your life when you meet someone and all your ideas about the 'perfect lover’ disappears. You wanted deep blue eyes, clear just like the ocean, but now you’re looking into eyes as green as the forest; and you can’t help but get lost in them.

At first you wanted someone who plays sports, but now you’re utterly obsessed with someone who goes everywhere with a camera around their neck, who snaps random pictures of the things that they deem beautiful.

You wanted someone who could use beautiful words to stop you from crying, but instead you got someone who wraps their arms around you and holds you until you’re all cried out. They hold you with no intentions of letting you go. Ever.

You wanted someone to take you to museums and tell you that the Mona Lisa has nothing on you. But instead you’re in love with someone who doesn’t look at the stars in the sky, rather someone who stares into your eyes.

Then you meet someone who makes you laugh, and who makes your heart happy. And it’s all of a sudden, it’s as though you’ve wanted them since the beginning of time.

They make you happy.

That is all that matters.

Your happiness.

Find a lover who tries to do everything to make you happy.

Love isn’t always how how their eyes looked when you first met, or how their smile stuck in your head from the very first moment.

Love isn’t always from the first sight.

Sometimes, love is when they open up to you, when they pour their heart out to you, when they show you pieces of their soul, thoughts and show you their insides.

Love is when they let you in.

“My abuela always told me to marry someone I want to annoy for the rest of my life,” Lauren laughed at Camila’s random omission. “And I just so happen to choose you.”

“I must be rather lucky, huh?”

Camila placed a kiss on Lauren’s lips. “That you are, mi amor, that you are.”

Be with someone who wants to learn where each scar on your heart came from. And is willing to help you mend yours.

“It’s getting late, maybe we should dry off?” Camila suggested. She pulled Lauren up, and handed her a robe after wrapping one around her body.

“Dance with me,” Lauren wrapped her arms around her wife.

“Huh?”

“Dance with me,” Lauren repeated.

'The One’ by Kodaline started to play. Camila wrapped her arms around her wife’s neck and they began to sway slowly to the beat of the music.

“When we are together you make me feel like my mind is free and my dreams are reachable, Woah. You know I never ever believed in love, I believed one day you were gonna come along…” Lauren sang softly to her wife. Camila blushed and looked down.

“Free me,” Lauren sang and placed a kiss on Camila’s forehead.

“Cause you make my heart feel like it’s summer, When the rain is pouring down, You make my whole world feel so right when it’s wrong….” She pulled Camila closer to her chest.

“That’s why I know you’re the one…”

They stopped swaying, Camila looked up into Lauren’s eyes.

“I thank God for you everyday. Please don’t leave me. I know I’m hotheaded, I know I’m sensitive, I know I have trust issues, but baby, I’m so in love with you,” Camila admitted to her wife. She was so afraid that the woman would leave her. They were in this mess because she didn’t allow Lauren to come to her to admit what happened in the first place.

Lauren brought one of Camila’s hands to her lips. “I love you, Karla Camila Jauregui - Cabello.” She kissed her hand. “I know you’re the one for me. I am completely, utterly, foolishly, hopelessly, irrevocably in love with you.”

*** Wattpad:Commander_Camren

[blowmiakisscolin]

I Now Pronounce You Captain Charming // CS & Captain Charming Fic

So, I saw a funny tweet and posted it as a prompt...but then I went and wrote the thing myself. It’s short and sweet, made up entirely of humor and fluff.

Here’s my original post. The tweet that prompted it: “@joeheenan: 10 years ago today, I married my best friend...my wife’s still really angry about it, but me & Dave were drunk and thought it was funny.”

Enjoy this lighthearted little oneshot.

[I Now Pronounce You Captain Charming]

“Seriously? Are you seriously gonna do this every single year?”

Emma grumbled, hands on her hips as she levelled a bemused glare on her husband and leaned against the kitchen counter. Killian simply smirked, quirking an eyebrow at her as he kept the phone pressed to his ear, waiting for David to pick up.

After another few seconds of the dialtone, David’s voice finally filtered down the line.

“Killian, if you’re calling for any other reason than Emma’s gone into labor, I’m going to murder you. It’s 6am.”

Killian chuckled in response.

“Rest easy, mate. She’s standing right here with me, and our wee lad is still very comfortable where he is for the moment. I’m rather heartbroken though, that you don’t already know the reason for my call.”

David remained silent and Emma rolled her eyes as Killian tutted, feigning disappointment.

“Dave. How could you forget our anniversary? Five years, we’ve been married. Five beautiful years, and yet I feel this marriage is rather one-sided. I even arranged for your yearly gift to be delivered to you today, as usual! But it seems you’ve forgotten how special this date is, and I’m shocked and hurt by that!”

Emma groaned, shaking her head and muttering ‘idiots’ before heading towards the stairs to go and rouse their three year old daughter from her slumber.

“Goddammit, Killian!”

Even Emma had to stifle a laugh as she heard her father’s exasperated yell from across the room.

~ CS ~

It had started five years earlier. David and Killian had gone out for a “guys’ night” at the Rabbit Hole. A few drinks in, they’d been joined by Will and a couple of the dwarves, which was when things had taken a turn for the rowdy. The memories of that night were somewhat hazy for all involved, due to the sheer amount of alcohol consumed and the fact that Will had convinced the dwarves to snort fairydust.

Thankfully, there had been no lasting damage for any of them, and by the next day their fairydust-induced stupor had worn off. The hangover for them, however, was a bitch. Even worse than it was for Killian and David.

The photos and posts on social media had filled in the blanks of their patchy memories though, much to their dismay. And certainly to the dismay of their wives when they got hold of the evidence the next morning.

“Why does it look like that guy in the flamingo costume is officiating a wedding? Wait, is that you and my dad?! Killian...why are the dwarves showering you both with rice? Where did they even get rice from? Oh my God, are you carrying my dad bridal style?! And is that a Ring Pop on your finger? What the hell happened last night?!”

In response to his wife’s inquisition as she scrolled through the Facebook photos the next morning, Killian had muttered unintelligibly about tequila and Blow Jobs (which Emma later found out was just the name of a shot, thankfully). He’d then buried himself beneath the covers and refused to emerge until well after lunchtime, looking pale and somewhat sheepish when he finally did drag himself downstairs...neon green Ring Pop still on his finger.

By then, Emma had gleaned most of the details from her mother, who had all-but tortured it out of her poor, hungover father that morning. They hadn’t really thought much more of their husbands’ drunken escapades until 6 months later, when Killian had casually reminded them all about it over a family brunch at Granny’s.

“It’s our 6 month wedding anniversary today, mate.”

David had almost choked on his bacon and stared at his son-in-law in horror, while Snow burst out laughing and Emma rolled her eyes. Killian had scooped the Ring Pop out of his pocket then and placed it down on the table, smirking and revelling in the way David’s face flushed deep red.

“I can’t believe you still have that thing.”

David had scowled, folding his arms. Killian tsk’d at him, the smirk still playing at the corners of his lips and his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh, Dave, it’s a symbol of our love. I’ll treasure it forever.”

After that, Killian gleefully reminded David of their ‘anniversary’ every single year, sending a different gift each time. For their first anniversary, it was a giant teddy bear (which little Neal had acquired shortly afterwards). For their second, a hamper of David’s favorites beers and sweet treats had arrived on the doorstep, along with a giant card. The third year, it was two dozen red roses. And on the fourth year, a set of cufflinks inscribed with “K” and “D” and a keyring with a picture of the two of them, shaped into a heart.

Emma joked that he spent more time planning David’s yearly gifts than he did planning her gifts for his real wedding anniversary. Granted, she knew that wasn’t true, and the man surpassed himself year after year with the ways he spoiled her. Snow took it all in good humor too, and it provided plenty of entertainment for her and her daughter just watching how David responded so grumpily to Killian’s efforts.

The rest of Storybrooke also seemed to still glean amusement from Killian’s antics, and had affectionately dubbed them “Captain Charming”. Granny couldn’t resist joining in the fun, and every year she put on a “Captain Charming Special” - heart-shaped pancakes complete with a crown made of pineapple and decorated with Haribo rings. It was ridiculous in every way, but had somehow become a kind of tradition.

When Emma had seen what her husband had bought her father for the fifth year of celebrating their drunken sham wedding, she’d sighed and rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself as she’d waddled off to the kitchen. She was ready to pop with their second child any day, and she still had to share Killian with her father. Luckily she had a sense of humor about the whole thing.

The gift was a constellation that Killian had picked out, from a website that allowed customers to buy and name them. Of course, he’d named the constellation Captain Charming, and had picked the one shaped like a hook. He’d been quite excited about it.

But the fifth year also gave Killian something else to be excited about, and ended up being a date he would celebrate for very a different reason each year. After lunch, he was calling David again…

“I got your gift, alright? A hook constellation named after that silly name the dwarves cursed us with. Very funny. Snow is insisting we frame the certificate. So thank you very much for that-”

David had answered the phone without so much as a greeting, sounding weary but far from as annoyed as he was trying to make out.

“Dave, shut up, mate,” Killian cut him off breathlessly, “And get to the hospital...Emma’s in labor. Our little lad is on his way.”

With that, he’d hung up, leaving David and Snow to scramble to the hospital as fast as they could. Their new grandson arrived shortly after they did, and when they entered Emma’s room, Killian was sat with his daughter on his knee, helping her get acquainted with the tiny baby boy he proudly held in his arms.

“Well, this is definitely the best anniversary gift ever.”

David joked, stepping closer to the bed and leaning over to press a kiss to Emma’s forehead. Both Snow and Emma groaned in unison and Killian began to laugh heartily.

“Aye, especially considering his middle name is David…”

At that, David’s gaze snapped to Killian, his eyes widening and flickering to Emma, seemingly seeking confirmation. Emma nodded, a tired smile on her face as she moved her own gaze to her husband and children.

From then on, they celebrated a birthday instead of a drunken ‘wedding’ anniversary. And no more gifts were needed, because on that day, they’d both received the best gift they could have ever wished for.

Fin.

[protectjuminhan]

Hi!^^...Do you think you can maybe do one where RFA +Saeran +V find out that its MCs birthday on the actual day and they need to get her something asap or do something sweet with her(if you know what I mean) :)

Hello! Yes I do think I can and I do think I know what youmean *wink wonk*

Warning: Suggestive NSFW

Yoosung

Don’t get this poor puppy wrong

He knew when your birthday was, he justdidn’t know what today’s date was

So when he checked his phone after a quickappointment with a sick puppy to find a text from Baehee Jaehee askingwhat he got you

He freaked

With luck on his side, there being no moreappointments to attend to, he headed straight for the grocery store to grab theingredients for a cake

He pleaded Jaehee over the phone to takeyou out for a surprise coffee and she was willing to help but not before shescolded him for not being prepared

He rushed home and stared cooking the bestcake he ever made

When you got home Yoousung had justfinished putting the icing on the cake

He was an utter mess

Flour in his hair and on his apron

Pink icing on his face

The cake had read Happy Birthday MC withhearts around it

you wiped the icing off his cheek andsucked it off your fingers

When Yoosung looked this cute youcouldn’t resist yourself

“Yoosung, after we eat this let’s get tothe real dessert, Ok?”

INSTANT boner BLUSH

ZEN (Im sorry Zen’s is so short! Don’t hate me I love him!)

He had just got home from rehearsal when hesaw a box at his doorstep

He picked it up to find that it was fromJumin

He read the letter attached to it and whenhe saw the Happy Birthday in fancy print

Oh the guilt

The guilt hit this man like a wrecking ball

How could he not have known?

The topic just never came up?

Oh man did he feel terrible

He opened the door, carrying the box andsaw you laying on the couch scrolling on your phone

“Jagiya, Oh Jagiya could you ever forgiveme?”

“Umm… ZEN?”

“Let me make it up to you, princess”

He kneeled in front of you

Grabbed your hands

And sang the most beautiful version ofHappy Birthday that you’ve ever heard

You never knew that old, traditional songcould ever sound so amazing

He kissed your knuckles and then picked youup off the couch with his strong arms

“Since today is your birthday you know whatthat means right, Jagiya?”

birthday sex

 Jaehee

You both are always so busy with the café

But with all the time you spend togethershe’d think she would at least know your birthday

But when she checked the messenger beforecoming into work and saw all the Happy Birthday messages

She felt like the worst girlfriend bestfriend ever to exist

She sent in her happy birthday text on themessenger along with the others and headed to the café

All day she felt so guilty that shecouldn’t even make eye contact with you

She was very distant and focused on work

Finally, after the café she invited youover to watch some ZEN DVDs

After watching about the third DVD youbegan to get tired

She noticed you kept trying to pop yourback and neck

“MC, if you don’t mind, I could give you amassage”

“Really, Jaehee? That’s just what I need,honestly”

You laid down on her bed and she went to goget oils and lotion

When she returned, she asked you to removeyour shirt and bra

You obliged and took them off facing awayfrom her

She was a wide eyed blushing mess

When she began rubbing the oils In yourskin little moans would slip past your lips

It’d make her cheeks burn and her hands workharder

She massaged you until you fell asleep

Jumin

He’s been so caught up with work

His dad forced a project on him and to makethings better Jumin had been feeling quite inspirational about new cat projectas of late

So when he finally has time for a breatherhe checks his phone to see six missed calls from Zen

Reluctantly, Jumin called back to beanswered by an enraged Zen

Jumin barely cared enough to actuallylisten in on Zen’s colorful vocabulary, choosing instead to look over paperswhile holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder

That is until he heard, “What kind ofhusband forgets his wife’s birthday”

Jumin froze

Utter shock

He hung up on Zen immediately and droppedeverything he was doing

He briefly told Jeahee he had an emergencyto take care of and that she was in charge for the rest of the day

She had an idea of what his “emergency”might be

He called driver Kim to take him home tohis wife

On the way, they drove past a flower shopand Jumin stopped the car to buy 3 dozen red roses and had many more sent tothe penthouse ASAP

In the car, he called to rent out thefanciest restaurant in the city for the night

Once he got home, he saw MC reading on thecouch with Elizabeth III curled up on her lap

Jumin rushed to MC with the roses and heldthem out to her

“Happy birthday, my beautiful and lovingwife. I love you with every atom of my being and I apologize from the very bottom ofmy heart for not realizing exactly what important day it is today. I hopeyou’ll forgive me and accompany me for dinner tonight to celebrate this mostspecial occasion”

MC smiled before taking the enormous bouquetand setting it on the glass table

She embraced her husband in a tight hug andlaughed

“Jumin, I don’t need bouquets or fancydinners for my birthday. I’m more than satisfied with you. You’re all I wantfor my birthday.”

MC pulled Jumin close by the tie, theirlips just barely brushing against each other

“So let me have you”

Jumin gladly obliged

 Seven

Of course God Seven knew when you’rebirthday was

But that doesn’t mean that God Seven isn’t aforgetful god

He woke up at two in the afternoon becausewhy not

Walked into the living room to find Saeranholding out a tiny wrapped present to MC

Seven’s not stupid, but that’s all his mindwas screaming at him while he grabbed his keys and ran out the door

Leaving behind a very confused MC andSaeran

While in the car he thought, “what do girlslike the most?”

Exactly after the question, a convertiblefull of girls pulled up next to him at a red light and whistled at him

The answer occurred to him

Girls like sexy ass cars

He sped to the nearest dealership and askedto see the most expensive car they had

Once he saw it, his eyes sparkled so bright

He asked the clerk how much the car was,pulled out his wallet and paid for the down payment in cash of course, because,again, why not

Pretty sure the salesman had never seenthat much money in his life

Seven drove it back to his house but notbefore threating to have anyone that damaged his car to be wiped off the faceof the earth entirely

He sent MC a text to come in the garage

As soon as she opened the door he revvedthe engine

Saeran rolled his eyes and walked backinside

“Hey, beautiful. Look what I found”

“Saeyoung, tell me you didn’t”

“But I did. Now are you gonna stand thereand gawk at it or are you gonna take it for a spin”

MC walked up to the car and got inside

“Actually, how about we get rid of this newcar smell”

Let’s just say Saeran had to put hisearphones on the highest volume it could go

 Saeran

There wasn’t much communication in MC andSaeran’s relationship

So the topic of her birthday never reallycame up

He just always seems to be caught up in histhoughts

So when he walked into the living room tofind Seven and MC with party hats on and cupcakes in hand it didn’t take himlong to put the pieces together

He grabbed Seven’s wallet and MC’s hand andmarched out the front door

MC would question where he was taking herbut it was so foreign for him to do such a bold act and it was very rare forhim to hold her hand so she just held her tongue and basked in the moment

He had managed to drag her to their favoriteice cream shop

He walked up to the counter, slammed somemoney down, and ordered their favorites

Once they had their ice cream in hand theysat at the table by the window eating in silence, which MC didn’t mind becauseshe knew Saeran wasn’t a big talker

After they finished Saeran grabbed hold ofMC’s hand again and they walked to the park not too far away

They sat at their favorite bench and Saeranstill didn’t let go of MC’s hand

“I’m sorry I didn’t know”

MC was about to tell him it was okay but Saerancontinued

“I’m sorry I don’t talk to you like Ishould either. If I talked to you like normal couples do then I would know but…I’m just not very good at being normal. That or… I just get nervous around you”

“Saeran…”

“I don’t talk to you much because you dothings to me. You make me feel warm and like no one has ever made me feel.”

His hand left MC’s which she felt sadabout… until she felt it’s presence somewhere else

He slid his hand along her thigh, up herskirt

“Usually, I can control myself, but youmake me feel so weak and vulnerable”

“When I’m around you… my body just seems tohave a mind of it’s own”

His hand had found your clothed heat

“Saeran… take me home, please”

He snatched his hand back and his eyes werewide with horror

Had he gone too far?

“Take me home and let your body do thetalking”

Saeran swallowed and you’ve never beendragged anywhere so fast

V (V’s is particularly long but I guess that’s because I’m just excited for his route)

V is spending the weekend in Venice taking photos for hisnext gallery

This sunflower knew his MC’s birthday of course

But being so caught up in his passion for photography andalways on the move trying to capture the beauty of the world, it may haveslipped his mind as to what today was.

It wasn’t until he randomly decided to check his phone whena notification from his calendar popped up stating that it was MC’s birthdaythat the guilt sunk it

Oh the guilt

This poor sunflower is always taking the blame for thingsand he lets the guilt sink down in him until it is engraved into his soul, thispoor precious boy

Oh did he feel so bad

Of course he had to choose the weekend that his love’sbirthday was on to go to Venice

The least he could’ve done was bring her with him but hedidn’t even think to ask 

A new burst of inspiration flooded his veins and he was onthe move

V was on the search for the most beautiful of views , theutmost of aesthetics

That night he left MC an apology, goodnight, and happybirthday text, turning his phone on silent and going to sleep before he couldeven read her reply

Once V returned home from his trip, he found MC watchingNetflix in the living room in her PJ’s

V sighed at the sight. Just the sight of seeing his lovercuddled up and watching movies gave him a comforting warmth

“Hello, sunshine”

MC jumped up when she heard the familiar voice like honey

“V, you’re back! I missed you” She grasped him and pulledhim into a hug and the guilt sunk in again. How could she be so happy to seethe one person that wasn’t there for her on her birthday?

“I apologize for not being here on your birthday, my love.I want to show you some things that I hope will make up for it. And then I willcontinue to keep making up for it a thousand times over”

He spoke into the crook of her neck, her familiar, sweetscent filling his lungs

“V, you don’t have to feel bad. I have plenty morebirthdays for you to attend in the future”

V smiled at this and lead MC to the couch and pulled outhis camera

He showed her multiple pictures of beautiful views,capturing angles not everyone would think to look from

“Do you see these places, Darling? Do you see how beautifulthe world is?”

“I do see, V. You always do an excellent job at capturingthe beauty of the world”

“All of these places” he began to delete the photos

“V! What are you doing? Stop!”

“All of these places mean nothing to me, MC. They meannothing to me because you are my home. Wherever you are that’s where I want tobe. Being in Venice without you, it felt so wrong. Missing your birthdaybecause I was gone has made me realize that I never want to chance missing asingle moment with you. I want to experience the world with you, MC. Will you join me on my next trip, and every tripafter that?”

V realized that MC is his sun, and that he would worshipher like a goddess

That night he worshiped his goddess over and over again.

- admin Naomi 

[mybirdsongphotography]

It’s incredible how much can change in one week.

I wrote a blog for this wedding over a week ago, before things went down in Texas. And as a true “creative”, I didn’t add the media to it so couldn’t post it.

  Then Hurricane Harvey hit.

We vacationed around Houston this summer and spent time downtown loving the area being shown around by friends. Areas that are now in the news. 

I can’t imagine.

I can’t imagine being evacuated. Let’s be real. I can’t even handle when my dog gets sick on my rug.

Homes are being gutted. Possessions ruined.

Sure makes it hard to think of anything to complain about during a hard day.

I grew up in South Florida and have lived through countless hurricanes. It was more a way of life for us. My family was lucky enough to only have the extreme power outages, tree and property damage, and minor flooding in our city when the storms left.

With everything that’s happening- I thought we could still use a little positive reading. Bittersweet to be reading through this now– but I also decided not to rephrase anything about the beauty that surrounds Houston. I am nothing but hopeful that Texas can get the help it needs to restore the incredible city.

Thankful for those donating, and especially thankful for the teams of first responders leaving their own homes, families and lives to help rescue and rebuild.

So here we go:

As a wedding photographer who loves to travel- I have seen my share of wedding venues. Each weekend I feel like I have guests saying “you must shoot out here a lot, right? It’s so pretty!”

More often than not my answer is: “Nope, first time here!”

Honestly there is a very short list of venues that I have shot at more than once. And I like it that way. There are just so many gorgeous wedding venues tucked away along the hill country here outside of Austin- I could shoot at a new venue every week in Texas alone.

This venue- Madera Estates– was hiding in Conroe, Texas.

I had not even heard of Conroe until this year. To be fair, I haven’t heard of plenty of Texas cities that everyone else knows and loves. Conroe is north of Houston- where I had already shot a beautiful rooftop wedding, and I was itching to go back! Both spots are about three hours away from where we are in Austin.

It was perfect timing to shoot a wedding there for the first time, too. My entire family drove in to Conroe to spend the week off together. Our vacation spot was literally right down the road that same week. (So was Starbucks, so I was set!)

I was able to check out Madera Estates the day before the wedding- and it got me pumped to start their day.

And yeah- I even put it up on my insta- story. If you haven’t been following all your favorite people on instagram go now. Search someone. You can probably see what they are doing right now by just clicking on that little circle that is their profile photo.

Creepy, right?

Or amazing??? Depends on who you follow.

I have a love/hate relationship with all social media. But I try every day to make it a little more positive… so there’s that.

Right when you walked through the doors at Madera Estates, there was romance.

They chose a perfect setting for every detail that lead their guests through the entryway. Photos of their loved ones who are no longer with us, photos of their own love story together, and even a chance for their guests to take a photo of themselves and leave a Polaroid with a note in lieu of a guestbook.

Katie & Austin didn’t want to see each other before she walked down the aisle, but they still wanted to spend a moment together. So we put a barrier between them so they could still talk to each other before things got going.

It was sweet to be able to hear that they were talking so calmly to each other.. probably because there had been yoga on both their schedules which now I’m pretty sure I should try. 

As the sun started to dip behind the trees, the processional started and it led that romantic feeling straight from the entrance halls and into the air of the courtyard. The mothers each filled a goblet with wine as the ceremony started.

When Katie and Austin finally did see each other, you saw it happen.  They were so in tune during the ceremony and everyone celebrated the moment they became man and wife.

From there we made some magic. The moon was already up as we walked around the forest directly behind the ceremony spot. I always enjoy letting a couple spend a moment to take it all in. The night always goes by so fast and you don’t always get another chance.

They announced the wedding party and went into their first dance. I’ll let you scroll down and see the sweetness. You can also go look at that groom’s cake!

Yeah. Look. at. that. 

That was a surprise from the bride to her man and I just love little stuff like that. Especially when it’s something that is so awesome to photograph, obviously.

My girl Sarah gave the Maid of Honor toast and I still can’t figure out how she looked like a knockout being so preggo! After the toasts, phenomenal dinner, and cake cutting- they did the anniversary dance. It is one of my favorite moment photos from this one when the grandparents are dancing and you can see the newlyweds cheering them on.

The dance floor was literally packed solid until the very end of the night. The bride and groom waited for the room to clear and had one last dance together. I have only seen that one other time and I wish more couples would have one more song just for the two of them.

Like I said- you rarely get to stop and breathe in the whirlwind of your wedding day- it’s nice to make sure it goes into your timeline.

You can see from their exit that they made sure to not only celebrate- but to thank the family and friends that are dearest to them for helping them get down the aisle.

You can also tell I loved their get away car.

Many congrats to you guys on your epic journey together!

      Wedding Venue: Madera Estates Wedding Venue Conroe, Texas

Houston Hair & Makeup: Sunkissed & Madeup 

Houston Florist: College Park Florals

            Katie & Austin | Love by the Moon at Madera Estates It's incredible how much can change in one week. I wrote a blog for this wedding over a week ago, before things went down in Texas.

[skinflesh97-blog]

Coping

Road trip prep. Kids, you're in charge of  the cookies.

My alarm went off at 4:00am—an abrupt wakeup after finally finishing packing just three hours earlier. I snoozed it once…..ok, twice, and then we shoved the kids (still half asleep) into what little space was left in the loaded car, and headed west. It was a lonnnnnnng drive across Nevada—driving into the wind the entire way, dust blowing onto our roadside break of turkey and cheese. 

Thanks to the Internet and a few pointers from friends, we had a couple “ideas” where we may want to set up camp for the next four nights-we are not usually great at making FIRM plans….we are more “general idea” kind of people. You could say we are almost always winging it.  We headed down a 10 mile dirt road towards what we knew would be THE. MOST. AMAZING. campsite ever—in the trees, right on the lake, perfect. We were tired, hungry, and ready to get settled. Last fall we bought a little pop-up trailer—we figured as often as we camp, it would be nice to get out of the elements occasionally. We have loved it so far—we are always able to find secluded places to park it off the beaten path and keep away from crowds; we had planned on this time being the same.

We could faintly see the clear blue water through the trees, and were relieved and happy to have finally arrived after a full day in the car. But then we pulled up and saw what seemed to be a “local’s only” party….and we were definitely not invited. A few cars and tents scattered around near the water’s edge—no room at the inn—and here’s the kicker, the only place to turn around was occupied by several cars. And we were pulling a trailer. Whoops. 

Robby handles these situations much better than I do—we slowly drove through—every head turned. He laughed and waved like we were in a parade “we’re from out of town. Obviously. We didn’t know this place was so popular”. I sat in the passenger seat sweating and sinking lower and lower in my seat, wondering how we were ever going to get out of this place with nowhere to turn around. We inched our way through the trees—Robby maneuvering our set up  (that all the sudden seemed like a TRAIN in such tight quarters) and finally managed our way out, using a 57 point turn. We peeled out and kicked up dust as we sped away—except totally opposite of that, because the trailer only allows us to go so fast—and laughed all the way back out to the main road. At least we gave the locals a good laugh, right!? We didn’t want to take our chance down anymore unknown roads, so we put our tail between our legs and headed towards a campground.

California!

We got camp set up around ten—it was 45* in Lassen, and we were still in flip flops and shorts and really too exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed and crash. So we chose sleep over dinner and called it a day. 

We took our time waking up the next morning, ate eggs and bacon until we couldn’t eat another bite, and loaded up our packs to head out.. We spent the next three days hiking, paddling, fishing, exploring volcanoes, and completely disconnecting from the outside world. No phone service, no work, no emails to respond to, no worries really—except how stinky our armpits were and how tangled our hair was getting--it was truly the best.

We always manage to find winter in summer.

As we packed up one evening after a day on the lake—fitting kayaks, fishing gear, granola bar wrappers and tired kids into the car, an older gentleman came over—he and his wife were from Los Angeles and driving through the area. He struck up a conversation about our day. “How was the lake? (perfect. empty.) How was the fishing? (more fishing, less catching.)”, and what really struck me, “and your kids LIKE this stuff? How do you make them do all this? How do they cope without their Playstation?” 

“Well…..this is kinda...what we DO. They like to play outside—we actually go camping all the time”. 

“You mean, you just go out into the woods?” 

“yep”………….. 

If we were living in a cartoon world his eyes would have popped out of his head and his jaw would have hit the ground. 

“Huh.”

end scene.

we had the lake to ourselves.

This conversation really got me thinking. As I type this, we are driving back after eight days on the road. We are exhausted—both physically and mentally, tired of camp food, and absolutely filthy—our best “shower” was soaping* up in a river, hoping the icy cold current would rinse away some of the grime. I miss my animals and my garden, yet  I’d happily continue on down the road—I am happiest when I’m out exploring somewhere new. It’s who we are, it’s what we do, and it’s PART of the reason my kids can “cope without their Playstation” (which by the way, we didn’t tell the guy we didn’t even have one.) 

But, it’s only part of the reason—I realize that our particular lifestyle is not for everyone, and that’s ok. But there ARE other ways to keep kids from being completely dependent on screens, gadgets, gizmos, and the need for constant stimulation and entertainment.  Here are a few of my ideas: (I'm not saying this is the only way to parent, it just seems to work for us:)

Don’t buy them screens/gadgets/gizmos/etc. Hey that’s easy—and cheap! My kids are not this special breed of children who have no desire to glue their faces to something plugged in. But it’s a lot harder to do when they don’t have access to it. They don’t have their own phone or ipad, and we have an old xbox with 4 games that they can earn time for on weekends after all their chores are done--it's GREAT bribery!  (ps. I think Minecraft is a GREAT game! So much creativity to unleash!) Do they ask for all the above mentioned stuff? Do they say “but alllllllllllll my friends have ______” They DO! And guess what I say? “I don't care!" And occasionally I like to throw in things like "because I'm the mom and I say so", and then I feel super legit. I realize that as my kids get older, this one is unavoidable, so we will:

Set limits. Maybe you are a cooler parent than me and your kids have a gadget or two. Great! But they don't need to have it in hand alllllllll the time. I started an Instagram account so my kiddos could post the pictures they take and share them with cousins and grandmas and grandpas (and mostly so we could print more Chatbooks!) I log them in so they can post a few photos, we look (together) at what's going on with our cousins, and then I log them out--no time wasted mindlessly scrolling, and no wondering what garbage they saw on Instagram. But they feel connected to their cousins who live far away--win win! When they want to use the computer they have to ask--I want to know what they'll be doing. 

Have other options. As much as I wish we could--we can't spend 100% of our time outside. We are a movie loving family and movie nights are our favorite, but I hate the tv always being on--it's such an easy "out". We've had a scorcher of a summer, and some afternoons we have to hide out in the house to beat the heat, but we are making sure to do lots of reading, writing, and artwork instead of letting the tv constantly entertain us. 

Don't start them so young! I will probably ruffle so many feathers by saying this, but I honestly can't believe how many babies and toddlers I see with a screen in their hand--the grocery store, church, restaurants--everywhere. I somehow raised my babies without a screen in hand (they weren't even invented yet.) And when I say that, it sounds like I raised my babies in the 1800s and just let them play with tumbleweeds, but really it was just a few years ago, I promise. Was it hard to go to Target with a 4 year old and 2 year old? OH MY GOSH IT WAS THE WORST! But did I somehow manage without attaching them to a glowing screen? I DID! And there were a fair share of public meltdowns, tantrums, whining, complaining--because guess what, they are KIDS, and that's what kids do. But if we stick an iPad in their face (and pretend to be ok with it because it's "educational"), just so we can have a peaceful grocery store experience, how can we expect them to learn to function in real life without that constant stimulation? (I ran out of breath reading that last sentence, did you?) 

I am absolutely not a perfect parent, and I pray every day that I'm not screwing these kiddos up too badly.  But I do work ridiculously hard to make sure my kids get dirty, breathe fresh air, do chores, don't rely on screens for constant stimulation, know how to be creative, have original thoughts, and entertain themselves. I would love to hear YOUR ideas on how to better keep kids connected to the real world, and not rely too much on electronic interaction. 

They seem to be coping just fine.

*I mentioned we soaped up in the river--it was the BEST, and I recommend it (but watch out for people coming down the hill--you'll have to run for cover in your skivvies). We use THESE SOAPS  --they are biodegradable and don't mess up the water and vegetation :) **I also mentioned Chatbooks! Do you get these? It's a subscription that I use through my Instagram (you can also create books without IG, but it's so easy and brainless to do it how I do). Every 60 photos I post it sends me a notification that my book is ready--then I can edit captions, take out photos, or do NOTHING, and it will send my photo book automatically--each book costs $8. We LOVE them, and look through them so often (we've been getting them for the last 2 years)--they are great little scrapbooks. If you aren't yet using Chatbooks, go sign up and use the code SHEENA to get 20% off your order now through the end of the month.

SaveSave SaveSave SaveSave

Source: http://inthelittleredhouse.blogspot.com/2016/07/coping.html

[nickelnumber91-blog]

Coping

Road trip prep. Kids, you're in charge of  the cookies.

My alarm went off at 4:00am—an abrupt wakeup after finally finishing packing just three hours earlier. I snoozed it once…..ok, twice, and then we shoved the kids (still half asleep) into what little space was left in the loaded car, and headed west. It was a lonnnnnnng drive across Nevada—driving into the wind the entire way, dust blowing onto our roadside break of turkey and cheese. 

Thanks to the Internet and a few pointers from friends, we had a couple “ideas” where we may want to set up camp for the next four nights-we are not usually great at making FIRM plans….we are more “general idea” kind of people. You could say we are almost always winging it.  We headed down a 10 mile dirt road towards what we knew would be THE. MOST. AMAZING. campsite ever—in the trees, right on the lake, perfect. We were tired, hungry, and ready to get settled. Last fall we bought a little pop-up trailer—we figured as often as we camp, it would be nice to get out of the elements occasionally. We have loved it so far—we are always able to find secluded places to park it off the beaten path and keep away from crowds; we had planned on this time being the same.

We could faintly see the clear blue water through the trees, and were relieved and happy to have finally arrived after a full day in the car. But then we pulled up and saw what seemed to be a “local’s only” party….and we were definitely not invited. A few cars and tents scattered around near the water’s edge—no room at the inn—and here’s the kicker, the only place to turn around was occupied by several cars. And we were pulling a trailer. Whoops. 

Robby handles these situations much better than I do—we slowly drove through—every head turned. He laughed and waved like we were in a parade “we’re from out of town. Obviously. We didn’t know this place was so popular”. I sat in the passenger seat sweating and sinking lower and lower in my seat, wondering how we were ever going to get out of this place with nowhere to turn around. We inched our way through the trees—Robby maneuvering our set up  (that all the sudden seemed like a TRAIN in such tight quarters) and finally managed our way out, using a 57 point turn. We peeled out and kicked up dust as we sped away—except totally opposite of that, because the trailer only allows us to go so fast—and laughed all the way back out to the main road. At least we gave the locals a good laugh, right!? We didn’t want to take our chance down anymore unknown roads, so we put our tail between our legs and headed towards a campground.

California!

We got camp set up around ten—it was 45* in Lassen, and we were still in flip flops and shorts and really too exhausted to do anything but crawl into bed and crash. So we chose sleep over dinner and called it a day. 

We took our time waking up the next morning, ate eggs and bacon until we couldn’t eat another bite, and loaded up our packs to head out.. We spent the next three days hiking, paddling, fishing, exploring volcanoes, and completely disconnecting from the outside world. No phone service, no work, no emails to respond to, no worries really—except how stinky our armpits were and how tangled our hair was getting--it was truly the best.

We always manage to find winter in summer.

As we packed up one evening after a day on the lake—fitting kayaks, fishing gear, granola bar wrappers and tired kids into the car, an older gentleman came over—he and his wife were from Los Angeles and driving through the area. He struck up a conversation about our day. “How was the lake? (perfect. empty.) How was the fishing? (more fishing, less catching.)”, and what really struck me, “and your kids LIKE this stuff? How do you make them do all this? How do they cope without their Playstation?” 

“Well…..this is kinda...what we DO. They like to play outside—we actually go camping all the time”. 

“You mean, you just go out into the woods?” 

“yep”………….. 

If we were living in a cartoon world his eyes would have popped out of his head and his jaw would have hit the ground. 

“Huh.”

end scene.

we had the lake to ourselves.

This conversation really got me thinking. As I type this, we are driving back after eight days on the road. We are exhausted—both physically and mentally, tired of camp food, and absolutely filthy—our best “shower” was soaping* up in a river, hoping the icy cold current would rinse away some of the grime. I miss my animals and my garden, yet  I’d happily continue on down the road—I am happiest when I’m out exploring somewhere new. It’s who we are, it’s what we do, and it’s PART of the reason my kids can “cope without their Playstation” (which by the way, we didn’t tell the guy we didn’t even have one.) 

But, it’s only part of the reason—I realize that our particular lifestyle is not for everyone, and that’s ok. But there ARE other ways to keep kids from being completely dependent on screens, gadgets, gizmos, and the need for constant stimulation and entertainment.  Here are a few of my ideas: (I'm not saying this is the only way to parent, it just seems to work for us:)

Don’t buy them screens/gadgets/gizmos/etc. Hey that’s easy—and cheap! My kids are not this special breed of children who have no desire to glue their faces to something plugged in. But it’s a lot harder to do when they don’t have access to it. They don’t have their own phone or ipad, and we have an old xbox with 4 games that they can earn time for on weekends after all their chores are done--it's GREAT bribery!  (ps. I think Minecraft is a GREAT game! So much creativity to unleash!) Do they ask for all the above mentioned stuff? Do they say “but alllllllllllll my friends have ______” They DO! And guess what I say? “I don't care!" And occasionally I like to throw in things like "because I'm the mom and I say so", and then I feel super legit. I realize that as my kids get older, this one is unavoidable, so we will:

Set limits. Maybe you are a cooler parent than me and your kids have a gadget or two. Great! But they don't need to have it in hand alllllllll the time. I started an Instagram account so my kiddos could post the pictures they take and share them with cousins and grandmas and grandpas (and mostly so we could print more Chatbooks!) I log them in so they can post a few photos, we look (together) at what's going on with our cousins, and then I log them out--no time wasted mindlessly scrolling, and no wondering what garbage they saw on Instagram. But they feel connected to their cousins who live far away--win win! When they want to use the computer they have to ask--I want to know what they'll be doing. 

Have other options. As much as I wish we could--we can't spend 100% of our time outside. We are a movie loving family and movie nights are our favorite, but I hate the tv always being on--it's such an easy "out". We've had a scorcher of a summer, and some afternoons we have to hide out in the house to beat the heat, but we are making sure to do lots of reading, writing, and artwork instead of letting the tv constantly entertain us. 

Don't start them so young! I will probably ruffle so many feathers by saying this, but I honestly can't believe how many babies and toddlers I see with a screen in their hand--the grocery store, church, restaurants--everywhere. I somehow raised my babies without a screen in hand (they weren't even invented yet.) And when I say that, it sounds like I raised my babies in the 1800s and just let them play with tumbleweeds, but really it was just a few years ago, I promise. Was it hard to go to Target with a 4 year old and 2 year old? OH MY GOSH IT WAS THE WORST! But did I somehow manage without attaching them to a glowing screen? I DID! And there were a fair share of public meltdowns, tantrums, whining, complaining--because guess what, they are KIDS, and that's what kids do. But if we stick an iPad in their face (and pretend to be ok with it because it's "educational"), just so we can have a peaceful grocery store experience, how can we expect them to learn to function in real life without that constant stimulation? (I ran out of breath reading that last sentence, did you?) 

I am absolutely not a perfect parent, and I pray every day that I'm not screwing these kiddos up too badly.  But I do work ridiculously hard to make sure my kids get dirty, breathe fresh air, do chores, don't rely on screens for constant stimulation, know how to be creative, have original thoughts, and entertain themselves. I would love to hear YOUR ideas on how to better keep kids connected to the real world, and not rely too much on electronic interaction. 

They seem to be coping just fine.

*I mentioned we soaped up in the river--it was the BEST, and I recommend it (but watch out for people coming down the hill--you'll have to run for cover in your skivvies). We use THESE SOAPS  --they are biodegradable and don't mess up the water and vegetation :) **I also mentioned Chatbooks! Do you get these? It's a subscription that I use through my Instagram (you can also create books without IG, but it's so easy and brainless to do it how I do). Every 60 photos I post it sends me a notification that my book is ready--then I can edit captions, take out photos, or do NOTHING, and it will send my photo book automatically--each book costs $8. We LOVE them, and look through them so often (we've been getting them for the last 2 years)--they are great little scrapbooks. If you aren't yet using Chatbooks, go sign up and use the code SHEENA to get 20% off your order now through the end of the month.

SaveSave SaveSave SaveSave

Source: http://inthelittleredhouse.blogspot.com/2016/07/coping.html

[decorfrontline]

Bathrooms I Pinned for the Mountain Fixer (and why??)

New Post has been published on http://www.decorfrontline.com/index.php/2018/03/08/bathrooms-i-pinned-for-the-mountain-fixer-and-why/

Bathrooms I Pinned for the Mountain Fixer (and why??)

Photo Source

If you think reading about my design process is full of excitement – the style twists! the emotional turns! Brian Henderson having no opinions one day then a million the next!– then imagine living it. It’s design whiplash and the impact is hard but the recovery is fast. I was scrolling through my own mountain fixer pin board the other day when I saw some early pins of bathrooms and I was like, ‘Who stole my sausage fingers, logged into Pinterest and pinned all these crazy contemporary/modern bathrooms?’

Me. I did.

Because one of the best and worst things about me is that I’m ‘style-polyamorous’. You see, at the time I THOUGHT I was designing a contemporary Scandinavian mountain chalet of which Brian and I both agreed on (pre rustic/refined vote), and while many of these don’t fit into that category (and definitely wouldn’t fit into the current design) I was inspired by something in them.

All of them are simple, but still special and interesting and while most of the colors and many of finishes were and are too contemporary and modern for me, those things can be changed. Sometimes you have to look beyond just the style you are focused on, to find new ideas that can be implemented in any style and yes, can be timeless. So while these contemporary, minimal and cold bathrooms are wildly different than what we are doing, I can remember why I pinned them.

Photo Source

People have been staggering tiles since the first cavewoman tiled her first powder room (it was rustic with a big dose of real-gold glam), and sure the ‘vertical stack’ is very popular in both mid-century and new-builds. But a ‘staggered vertical’ feels kinda fresh without being totally risky. I also like it because it properly describes my mid-20’s Saturday night signature dance move. Understandably, people might have thought it wasn’t a ‘move’ and perhaps more of a symptom of legal indulgences, but regardless, my ‘staggered vertical’ move was enjoyable for anyone who was lucky enough to witness it.

Photo Source

Well that is kinda my spirit bathroom, but for a different house. That navy and rose gold with a simple but striking cabinet detailing and floor and wall simplicity. Speaking of navy and blush … do you remember when a commenter wrote, ‘UGH, ENOUGH WITH THE BLUSH AND BLUE’ and then I laughed (with my team, all my friends, etc.) A LOT, like for weeks. She was right, but the level of annoyance in her voice/text was palpable. Girlfriend was SICK OF ME DOING BLUSH AND BLUE. And then we laughed even more when I realized the following 3 makeovers ALSO had strong blush and blue game. And then I was like, ‘it’s indigo and rose’ and some of you wrote, ‘UH, THAT IS BASICALLY THE SAME THING’ (in a nice way) and I was like, ‘I KNOW! I WAS TRYING TO BE FUNNY!’

Anyway, if Brian ever allowed me to go in that direction I’d have that bathroom in my life. FYI some of you wrote that you feel kinda sorry for Brian, assuming that I must be steamrolling him and while he and I both appreciate your support for his feelings, I’d like to go ahead and say that if there is one person, on this planet who you should not feel sorry for right now, it’s Brian Henderson. His wife, me, is designing his dream cabin, because she/I is a wonderful person who also happens to be style-polyamourous, thus making her/me flexible, adaptable and generally adept at compromise, and he is getting exactly what he wants with someone else doing all the work.

Sorry for the 3rd person. And that wasn’t passive aggressive – it’s literally the facts. The point is, I can’t wait to write about the whole process of designing and renovating with your partner. Especially if you (me) are a designer whose ‘collaboration with said husband’ will be seen by millions.

Photo Source

I pinned this one because I was attracted to the idea of using two different colors of tile on one wall – like a colorblock. I typically don’t because it feels risky, and yes it can feel kinda dated (70’s), but I was thinking more about doing two different tones of the same color or even a matte and glossy mix. Maybe the break is at chair rail height or maybe it’s two different scales of the same finish and color – think 4×4 from floor to above faucet, then a 2×2 above that. It could even be a zellige tile or a subway or brick scale. Maybe you stagger the bottom and then herringbone the top, both in the same finish and color …

I pinned this below shot for two reasons:

Photo Source

I loved the play with circles – mirror, vessel sink, side faucet, and the idea of putting an off-center pendant which makes so much sense (won’t hit your head, duh) but as far as functional light feels off.

Photo Source

Apparently vessel sinks are back with a ‘deep’ vengeance. I wish there was an emoji on blogs that said, ‘pun intended’ so I didn’t have to call it out … and yet a good pun also needs a ‘beat’ or pause to help people register what just happened or to give them assurance that yes, that was a pun. ugh. Not saying that was my best work, but when the ideas flow you have to drain the bad and sink into the good. (insert pun emoji)

But that’s not why I pinned the above photo – I loved the marbled ‘v-groove’ because I hadn’t seen anything like that before. It fresh because it’s a typical wall paneling profile, but in an unexpected yet totally classic material. These kinds of ideas get my wheels turning (a la brass grout that is now being mass produced, by the way). A huge part of my design process for this house is taking a simple idea or design principal and putting a new or personal twist on it.

I also like how they used a contrasting bullnose trim. I’ve only put matching bullnose on tile, but doing a subtle version of that could be interesting.

Photo Source

Again with the two tones … and contrasting bullnose. Although to be honest, that is far too ’70’s gym locker room’ for me (ooh, although now that I wrote that down … trend alert). But the point is, sometimes you pin something for a specific reason and not because you want the room, but because you like an idea in it and want to do it in a much more subtle and appropriate way for your house. But as a general PSA – be wary of the peach stacked square tile. You can be peach (blush). You can be square. You can be stacked. But don’t be all of those things.

Photo Source

I pinned the above shot because of the simplicity and yet high impact of that tile – it’s just a tiny brick pattern with dark grout and A LOT of it… One big field of tile can definitely make a statement if it’s unique and just the right size and color. Much smaller would have been dizzying, but bigger wouldn’t have been so unique.

Photo Source

The above bathroom is certainly unique – I barely even understand it. The scale of it all feels weird (not the tile, but the whole room), and yet I’m staring, so something is compelling about it. It’s definitely just a set, by the way… and thank god you can wash your 2 liter soda bottles in the sink! TBH the more I look at it the more I don’t actually like it, but I know that the idea of combining two tiles of the same finish and scale, but different color is something I’m drawn to right now. Just a better version.

Photo Source

I pinned the above because I liked the combination of marble slab backsplash going into painted paneling … taking notes right now. If done in classic stones and colors then this isn’t a risk at all. If there were some pebble flooring and some wood somewhere I’d draw ‘Mountain Fixer’ all over that photo with my mind-pen.

Photo Source

Hmm… I think I pinned that shot because of the mirror/grid situation – although Brian would be horrified if he saw it and thought it was impacting my brain in any way. While mirrors were never ‘out’, the average sliding closet mirrored door is due for a revival. I am also taking the style of the grid and wondering if it can be the profile of a shower door. It feels like an updated version of the french steel grid. But I think they are cabinets …

As I’m designing this house and writing about it I’m trying to not get caught up in creating these epic posts full of reveals and ‘get the looks’ but instead calling out aspects of my process. Would I read a blog where Nate Berkus told us why he pinned what he pinned? YES. And while I’m not at his level (although we are due for a playdate with our kiddos which we planned after a boozy lunch recently) I’m hoping there is a lot of value for you when I ‘dabble’ or ‘deep dive’ into this thought process.

Even if it’s a bunch of photos that reflect almost NONE of how the project will turn out… If only I had a full year to design this house before renovation I would NAIL IT.

The post Bathrooms I Pinned for the Mountain Fixer (and why??) appeared first on Emily Henderson.

Read More

[crocifixio]

Bakun Shake

I remember the precise moment. It was the perfect marriage proposal photo op.

Amidst strobic rays of the midday sun from the intermittent play of clouds, on top of the iconic Mt Tenglawan carrot rock, a young girl sits knees down with her head buried in both hands, shoulders bouncing from helpless, emotional sobs. A few feet below, a fine young gentleman projecting gallantry in his half-kneel stance reaches out to her in dismal plea to take his offer. A steel crucifix rises above the silhouetted couple, the majestic Cordillera range is the backdrop.

Picture perfect, save for the fact that the two individuals were really not what you would call, well, a couple.

Down by the lower ledge, Team Alabok is caught in an awkward, suspended warp. Apparently, Rean- who was the aforementioned fine young gentleman had a wife who was not happy with the scenery. He had rushed in a selfless attempt to assist Mayeh down from the rock. Mayeh had suddenly let out an emotional stream upon reaching the top of the rock and Rean was the nearest who could help her. As to why Mayeh had cried – either from the difficulty of the ascent or from a swift wave of vertigo, we would never know.

“Ma’am, kunan natin picture si ser kunyare nagpo propose.. di ba yan ang mabenta sa FB? Daming likes nyan! Ok lang ba ma’am?’” quipped Kelvin, the one team member who had launched a thousand witty lines for the entire duration of the Bakun Trio climb. Silence broken, the affair turned into one raucous laughter.

I could not fathom how one year had redefined the demographics of an organized climb. Just a year prior, the median age group I was with during the Akiki-Tawangan hike was in the high thirties. For this summer climb that I joined, I was already the oldest at 36 years of age. We had jumped onboard a DIY-KBB endeavor, almost entirely unfamiliar with each other. Roy Gella had spearheaded the event, and in a tireless effort to replace last minute cancellations (mostly those who were active in the private chatrooms), had trimmed down the members to what we would eventually call Team Alabok.

Ours was a cold beginning, in spite of the warm ride courtesy of the bus aircon’s breakdown right when we left the Cubao Victory Liner terminal. We did not really ‘hit it off right from the start’, so to speak. We picked up one Rupert Arceo from Baguio, and a certain mountain biker by the name of Adriel Paglinawan along the trail going to Mt Lobo, our first mountain. Only on top of Mt Lobo did we truly get to let go all pretensions and become comfortable with one another. One look at the smiles on our faces in the group summit photo and you could say that we had known each other for a long time. But Adriel would digress. He would always consider himself as adopted, not knowing he was as bonafide as everyone else. For what it’s worth, he could have been the catalyst that shaped the friendship that would define the whole sortie. Everyone just started talking when he came on board.  

One summit down, two more to go. I was in no rush to climb down, and so were Mayeh, Deya and Charles. We shared a lot of talks on the long breaks during the descent, and prior that last hanging bridge we also shared the same moment of that first glimpse of the dreamy town of Bakun - a mesmerizing hub of a plateau sitting in the midst of majestic geological wonders that seem to have popped out from the pages of The Hobbit.  Some lady we passed by appeared to have been unmoved by all our manifestations of awe. She was not having it, and outright dismissed our excited admiration of her town. We were told that the scenery we were having was meager at best, (‘hindi pa po malinaw yang view na yan..’) for a haze from a recent forest fire was still lingering by the rock faces, and that the townsfolk were praying for rain days before to wash out that haze in time for our arrival!

The same sentiment was to be repeated by another guide on the way to Mt Tenglawan by the following day. Mt Tenglawan, which, by the way was a different beast altogether than Mt Lobo from the previous day, prompted us to start an hour earlier than originally planned. And there was justice to that move. As the town of Bakun sits on a plateau, one had to contend with the fact that nearby mountains had to be climbed by going down a rather deep gorge first. And that also meant having to climb it all again to get back to the base later in the day. Energized by all the fun in that proposal event, I would like to believe that I gave it my all on the descent, and virtually alone at that. My usual MO, letting the fast ones advance and hiking solo in the middle of the pack just in time to hear the voices of the sweeper team on my rest stops before treading back again was a real introvert’s delight. There was one unforgettable moment where I just stopped under the pine trees, kicked the needles on the trail to form a heap and just spread-eagled there like a kid in grammar school on his first conscious experience of snow. While I was at it, I opened my trail food-  I was on a Cream-O Brownie Crunch craze at the time- and just poured all of the bits into my mouth while lying down. All in the relative solitude and serenity of the Tenglawan trail. But my adrenaline would come back firing on all fours when I noticed I had lost my bearings, I backtracked for at least three times until I was satisfied with my GPS readings.  

Going back up the town was a real agony, and all the time I was just thinking of that Bakun shake which we had by the side of the municipal hall on our first day (which was just yesterday, but seemed like ages). Unfortunately, daylight had just closed on me, and so had the fruit stand where the shake was made, so I headed straight for soda. The sweeper team had arrived, with Mayeh in tears for the second time in one day.

By then, we had already been sharing the comfort of the Municipal Hall with another climbing group, who, by all things holy, had chosen to convert the backyard to a filling station. So I took the trouble of moving to the communal restroom out in town instead of using the one at the back of the hall. After all, for a couple of strides I get to wash down my tired limbs with natural spring water. It felt like iced water, and all pain went down the drain with it.

Mt Kabunian on the third day proved to be the most difficult, because I had already exhausted almost every ounce of my pride on the first two mountains. What little pride I had left was the thought that I would never be coming back home with just ‘Bakun Duo’ under my belt. Other hikers choose to just hang around by the municipal hall and wait for the entire team on the third day, a thought I dismissed all too quickly, however tempting. I had no regret, for this third mountain turned out to be the most beautiful of the three. Kabunian is a tapestry of different Cordillera flavors, a repertoire of hanging bridges, stone steps, rolling grassy lumps, coffin parade all cast in a crucible of local folklore.

I was last to summit, but I am just glad to have summited at all. And while I crawled (in the most literal sense of the word) the last steps to the top, I could hear voices of my teammates doing the group picture but begging each other to wait for me, because I had the better camera. Even though I had already told them I was a novice, and the possession of a dslr was borne of chance. 

As Kabunian was an out-and-back hike (backtrail in local parlance), I saw it as an opportunity to redeem photo-op chances, especially at the thriller trail when I had not recovered yet on the way up. Having left the camera to the sweeper guide, I charged down the stone steps on to the famed foot-wide dead drop and did some kind of a tacky pose. But Miss Lady Guide was not shooting. Hand signals proving too futile and already leading to a communication breakdown, I walked back in regret to a spot where I could engage her in a shouting match. I lost right away at the faint audible sound of ‘ser, memory card full..’ A couple more exchanges and we succeeded at the decision for her to scroll right and delete several photos of fried chicken.

We left the town of Bakun in the afternoon with a heavy heart. Such is the response when you have stayed too long in an enchanting community. I recall only having one stopover on the way back to Baguio, and that was when we relieved ourselves from all the dust that had gotten too much to bear and we could no longer recognize one another inside the monster jeep. And thus the name Team Alabok, to which this journal post is dedicated to.

PS

This was our ‘summer camp’ and we have gone our separate ways. But we kept in touch, at least in social media. Since then, I had been doing ambassador work for both Headware and Tribu. Roy Gella had done legendary long distance ‘die-hikes’, along with Albert Asonio. Albert had also made a name for himself by winning consecutive raffle draws in a famous online outdoor shop, and his winning streak may not be over yet. Deya had been successfully organizing one big climb after another under the banner of Diwatang Gala, and I had rejoined her just recently in a ‘reverse traverse’ of Mount Amuyao. Mayeh manages an online shop. Mr and Mrs Rean, Midge and Kelvin had focused on family but have still been hiking occasionally- something I deeply relate to. I sat with Kelvin on the bus back to Manila and we found out our daughters were of the same name! Charles had been part of a Lagataw hike hereafter, but had since been swept off his feet by a special lady and decided to re-channel his energy to romance, along with his outstanding video editing skills. Adriel is still the mountain biking and exploration legend that he is. Rupert had set foot on the Himalayas, ticked Annapurna off his list, snow and all.

Team Alabok

Charles on top of the Carrot Rock

Going up Mt Lobo

Random bridge 

[newstfionline]

Can a remote island in Canada become a safe harbor for those who want to flee Donald Trump?

By Chico Harlan, NY Times, April 8, 2017

CAPE BRETON ISLAND, Canada--The first sign of what Rob Calabrese would come to think of as America’s unmooring began last year, just after Donald Trump won his first presidential primary and Calabrese published a $28 website that he’d designed in 30 minutes. “Hi Americans!” it began, and what followed was a sales pitch for an island where Muslims could “roam freely,” and where the only walls were those “holding up the roofs” of “extremely affordable houses.”

“Let’s get the word out!” Calabrese wrote, adding a photo of an empty coastline along the Atlantic Ocean. “Move to Cape Breton if Donald Trump Wins!”

It was meant as a joke--but seven hours after Calabrese linked the site to the Facebook page of the pop radio station where he works as a DJ, in came an email from America. “Not sure if this is real but I’ll bite.” And then another: “It pains me to think of leaving, but this country is beyond repair.”

And then more. Within 24 hours, there were 80 messages. Within a week, there were 2,000, and many used the same words: “nervous” and “terrified” and “help.”

“The United States is losing its mind,” one person wrote.

“So ashamed of half of my country I could curl up and cry,” wrote another.

The emails kept coming, so many that soon the island’s tourism association brought on four seasonal workers to help respond to the inquiries, which were arriving from every state and hundreds of towns, until it seemed to Calabrese that America was filled with people who wanted to get away.

“Look at this one,” he said one day recently, scrolling through a spreadsheet where the inquiries were organized and stopping on No. 2,121. “I am a former U.S. Marine who did two tours to Iraq. And I want out of here.”

“Beyond astonished,” Calabrese said, scrolling through more.

There were emails from a molecular biologist, a University of Oregon professor, a granite construction worker, a contractor for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, a woman who said her home town was “Unfortunately, Alabama.” There were declarations and confessions about incomes, sexual orientations, goals for their children. Several included résumés. “I am so sick of what has happened to my beautiful country,” one letter began.

“I desperately want to move my daughters to the safety and sanity of Canada,” email No. 3,248 read. “It doesn’t even really matter if Donald Trump wins. He has exposed the awful attitude that plagues the US.”

“This is no longer the America I have loved for all my life,” email No. 3,310 read. “I am a hardworking man and could contribute much to any country that gives me a chance.”

It was somewhere around email 4,230 that Trump was elected president of the United States, and just before his inauguration came email No. 4,635.

“Looking to immigrate to Cape Breton area from Colorado,” it began. “I am a skilled paralegal and my wife is an attorney.”

Calabrese read it, wondered briefly about the people who sent it, and waited for the next one to come in.

“What do people see on the horizon to be this afraid?” he said.

The email was written by Jimmy Gantenbein and Cathleen McEwen from their living room sofa in Loveland, a town 50 miles north of Denver. A month later, furniture from that living room had been stuffed into the garage. Paint buckets lined the hallway. They’d been in touch with a real estate agent. Soon they planned to have their home on the market.

They’d bought this home at the start of their marriage--the second for Jimmy, the third for Cathleen--and 17 years later they knew the place nearly as well as they knew each other. They had a view of the Rocky Mountains from the bedroom. Afternoon sunlight warmed the carpet where their old poodle liked to curl up. Two right turns and a left took them to the local Safeway.

“We’re going to love it here,” Cathleen remembered saying on one of their first spring nights, after a neighbor’s 50th birthday party ended with outdoor cartwheels. They lived on a cul-de-sac with two other homes, and Cathleen spent a few years on the city council. They made friends with Democrats and Republicans. When Cathleen’s son, an Army reservist, returned from Iraq in 2005, 150 people showed up at the local veterans’ hall for barbecue and beer.

There was a short period when they rented out the home and moved to a more commercial part of the city, hoping to improve their business. But they returned as soon as they could, and even as they aged, and faced some health problems, and their business slowed, this place remained the closest thing to a constant in their lives.

And then came the arrival into their settled world of Donald Trump. He was on TV so often that Jimmy and Cathleen created a no-Trump rule after 9 p.m. He was in their town, holding a rally 10 miles from their home that drew an overflow crowd. He was in their neighborhood, his name popping up on yard signs all around them. During primary season, it felt as if he’d arrived at their own front yard, when their neighbor saw them in the driveway, walked over, and said he was supporting Trump. We’re going with Bernie, Jimmy and Cathleen recalled saying, and though the conversation was brief and cordial, they hadn’t talked to their neighbor since.

“We feel out of sync with everybody,” Cathleen was saying now.

Just that morning, signing onto Facebook, there was a post written by her friend Pam, somebody she’d known for 13 years, telling Muslims to “grow a pair” and “defend the country they immigrated to and assimilate!” She thought for a few minutes about what to do and then punched out a response, telling Pam to “put the same mental energy” into researching the Muslim faith “that you put into your diatribe.” Then came the back-and-forth among other people, 19 comments, no minds changing.

“People are in a frenzy to out-anger,” Cathleen said, and she read the comments aloud to Jimmy.

She’d had 400 Facebook friends before Trump. Now she had 288.

She went on: “I don’t know what to do constructively. It’s a crisis of purpose.”

And so, they were thinking of leaving. It’s not that they had never thought of moving--they’d talked before about finding a cheaper place as they aged--but when Trump came along, that’s what pushed them. To where, though?

Just move closer to your grandchildren, Cathleen’s son, an accountant in Tulsa, said. Just don’t leave the country, Cathleen’s daughter, a doctor in Toledo, remembered telling them. “Don’t give up so quickly. Now more than ever, good people need to fight for what matters.”

But Jimmy and Cathleen didn’t see it as giving up. Instead, they felt America becoming so off-kilter, so “angry” and “bigoted” and “regressive,” that they thought maybe the moment required an absolute break. “I don’t recognize the country I was born in,” Cathleen said. “I was born into a narrow-minded, anti-intellectual country. It took me 61 years and one election to figure it out.”

So now, they also had a “Relocation” folder on their computer filled with information about Panama and Belize and Costa Rica and Canada. They’d bookmarked the Cape Breton website and set up Web alerts for real estate listings on the island. They’d talked to an immigration lawyer in Canada.

“I’m so glad they aren’t around to see this,” Jimmy said, in the living room now, where there were two folded funeral flags honoring their veteran fathers.

“It just keeps getting worse,” said Cathleen, who keeps a framed copy of the Gettysburg Address on the basement office wall.

So many decisions to make. Would they sell off their stuff? Would they give up their citizenship? Would they be able to repair damaged relationships with their children and grandchildren? And if they made it to Cape Breton, would they feel regret? They knew it was cold. They knew homes were cheap. But they’d never been there.

“It’s risky to stay and risky to go,” Cathleen said, and now they were back in the bedroom, hammering in new baseboards and fastening new light switch covers.

“Maybe,” she said, “the pragmatist wins out.”

“Maybe,” he said, “we rent for a while and figure things out.”

Cathleen put down the screwdriver and sat on the carpet.

“We don’t have a clue,” she said.

“We’re in a quandary,” he said.

Their dog was sleeping. Soon, their real estate agent would be calling. Homes sold fast in Loveland. Eight weeks and there’d be a “for sale” out front.

So, maybe Cape Breton.

Maybe Cape Breton, and maybe the house whose listing Valarie Sampson, a real estate agent who’d heard from a handful of Americans, was looking at now. Right on the ocean. A renovated farmhouse. One hundred forty-four acres of land. $220,000 Canadian, or $164,000 U.S. On the market for more than three years. Winter viewings, the listing said, “require snowshoes.”

“It’s a beautiful home if you’re looking to escape,” said Sampson, climbing into her SUV and steering through an island that people don’t come to anymore but instead have been choosing to leave. Once rich in coal, mining had dried up and no industry yet had replaced it. Every year, another 1,000 people were either dying or taking off for larger cities such as Toronto or Halifax. Budgets were shrinking. Ten schools had closed in the last year. The island’s unemployment rate was 15.5 percent. The population was down to 130,000, and that left Cape Breton with hundreds of abandoned homes awaiting demolition and several hundred more for sale.

Navigating streets narrowed by high snow, Sampson turned into a neighborhood of simple vinyl-sided homes near the shuttered coal mines.

“This one has been on for months,” she said.

A few minutes later: “$149,000 for this one. We haven’t had one viewing.”

Sampson knows that summers here feel different. The tourists arrive. The lobster and pizza restaurants reopen. The lakes fill with sailboats. “The geography is second to none,” she said. “A one-hour drive in any direction will take you to the beach.”

But for four or five months of the year, this is a place with short days, frigid temperatures and icy sidewalks, where people play backyard hockey or gather in little bars and doughnut shops. As Sampson returned to the office, the only activity in Sydney, the island’s largest town, seemed to be a meeting of community leaders who were talking about how to save the island.

“We don’t get people, we’re going to die,” Rankin MacSween, head of a community development group, was saying.

“These are huge losses against an already small population,” a lawyer said. “It doesn’t take much math to realize how much time is left.”

People passed around a five-page research paper that said the island needed to attract 2,000 people annually to remain viable. There’d been decades of failed attempts to rebuild.

The island had one new thing going for it--the website. More people knew about Cape Breton now. “We’re receiving thousands of emails,” one person said at the meeting. But that wasn’t the same as thousands of people moving there. Canada had strict immigration laws. People couldn’t just come because they wanted to. Applicants were scored based on age and skills and their ability to help the economy. Anybody who emailed Cape Breton was told they still had to apply through Canada’s immigration agency. They were sent a link to begin a process that could take more than a year.

So maybe some Americans would arrive someday, but they hadn’t yet. As the responses rolled in, Calabrese had revised the site’s text to make it less political--and less directed at Americans specifically.

“The truth is,” Calabrese had written, “we welcome all, no matter the ideology. Join us!”

“We need to be thinking about this,” the lawyer said as the meeting was winding down. “What kind of person would come here?”

One answer to that question could be found just past the meeting hall, in a house that had been stripped of wire and abandoned for a year and now had a family of seven inside, all of them from Syria. School had just ended. The television was on. The kids were squeezed on a couch. “What are you drawing?” the father, Ahmad Hamadi, 35, asked one of his sons, Mohamad, who is 10. “It’s a Pokemon,” Mohamad said. He held up the drawing for a father who eight months after arriving was still sorting through what it meant to have left a country he loved.

These were the people moving to Cape Breton: refugees from the Syrian war who not only left their country but had to flee it. Fifty-four had come so far, and Ahmad and his family were among the most recent. After escaping Syria and spending several years in Lebanon, they had ended up here because of the sponsorship of a church group waiting for them on an island they’d never heard of. They’d been traveling for 48 hours: Beirut to Cairo to Toronto to Cape Breton. They landed at 1:30 a.m. They were shuttled into a van, and when the sun came up Ahmad found himself in a house stocked with food and furniture and toys, all of it his and none of it familiar.

Compared with where he had come from, it was quiet outside. The electricity worked. The children went to school. Ahmad pinned a small Canadian flag to the front door, and every day he walked out was another chance to adapt to a new place.

He applied for positions at Value Village and a building supply company, where an interpreter helped him with the interviews, but he didn’t land either. He asked about an entry spot at a Lebanese restaurant, but the owner didn’t want somebody without experience. Months passed with nothing. He got a driver’s license. He lifted weights at the YMCA to burn stress. He thought about applying for a late shift at McDonald’s, but one of the leaders from the church committee that sponsored him said he should instead ramp up his English and become more employable. So twice-a-week government-funded English classes became four-a-week, and for Ahmad the sessions became his best excuse to leave the house: a two-mile drive across town to a community center classroom, where the names of Canada’s 10 provinces and three territories were written on the chalkboard.

“How are you?” the teacher, Susan Burchell, asked as Ahmad walked in.

“Bored,” he said.

“Bored?” she asked. She addressed the grammar instead of the sentiment. “It’s good you didn’t say boring,” she said, and when he didn’t say anything, she asked, “What do you want to do today?”

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. “Learning?”

“What did you do last week? Talk to me about it.”

“Shopping,” he said. “I went to Walmart. We went to Tim Hortons. And we went to my friend.”

“Do I know this friend?”

“An old man. From Lebanon.”

“Anything else?”

He shrugged again.

Before the war, in a town outside of Damascus, Ahmad had owned a small department store. He’d lived on the same street with his parents and three siblings. He met friends for late-night shawarma and chicken at restaurants. He had fled four years ago, and now his family was scattered across three continents. Among his five closest friends, he figured four were dead. The restaurants were just as likely rubble, something he thought of when he opened up Facebook and saw videos of charred and ruined street blocks. Had he known those places? Could he recognize them now? He’d built a home for his family in 2010, ceramic tiles in the kitchen and the apricot trees out front. Was that home, too, part of the rubble? He’d heard it might be.

“One day I had a car, a house, a business, a life,” Ahmad said. “The second day I lost it all.”

Ahmad had the best fortune of almost anybody he knew, and yet because of the changed fortunes of a country he loved, he was here, looking out at a yard with five-foot snowdrifts and a horizon with an early-setting Canadian sun.

He sat down on a chair and rubbed his aching back.

“Can you grab me some Advil?” he asked his daughter, Aya.

She reached into a cabinet and handed him a pill.

Ahmad’s hair was greasy, and stubble covered his neck and face. “A fish out of water, they die,” he said as his wife prepared lunch in the kitchen.

Ahmad swallowed the pill, drank some tea, and waited for the ache to go away.

“Cat, did you see that!”

Cathleen and Jimmy were driving back at dusk from a window-screen repair shop when a big white owl soared in front of their car, and soon they were at home talking about the owl that used to live in their front yard, the elk that would roam out back, and how this has always been their favorite time of year.

Every spring on the cul-de-sac, they’d crack the windows open, hear birds in the spruce tree, see the crocuses and gray hyacinths sprout from the fresh mulch in front of their house. Sundown came later. They’d barbecue. They’d see the neighbors more. And sometimes, they’d take off for road trips in their SUV: heading east across the plains and into the Ozarks, or maybe west, over the mountains and past the Continental Divide, finding lakes for fishing and stopping at fruit stands and sleeping in whatever motel they could find.

“So long as it wasn’t flea-ridden,” Jimmy said.

“We didn’t have any plan,” Cathleen said. “We’d just kind of wing it.”

“Remember the Black Canyons?” Jimmy said.

“Remember those cliffs?” Cathleen said.

“The Million Dollar Highway?” Jimmy said.

There was a knock on the door.

Their home inspector. In two weeks, the house would be on the market, and as soon as it sold they’d be on their way--first to visit their children and, after that, they’d have to see. Maybe a drive through America would remind them of things they were forgetting.

The inspector shook their hands and walked in. He carried a measuring tape, a notebook, and tools in a zippered pouch. He checked on the things that would be used by whoever lived there next--the furnace, the hot water heater, the electrical boxes--and moved through the rooms that now looked as though nobody had lived there before. No more family photos. No more artwork. Almost two decades of things boxed away.

“So,” he asked, “where are you guys moving to?”

There’d been a run of 60-degree days in Loveland, and meanwhile in Cape Breton, the temperatures were near freezing, forecasters were saying another eight to 11 inches of snow were on the way, and the emails were still arriving, a couple every day.

“I can no longer live here, nor sleep with this evil man as our leader,” one person wrote.

“History repeats itself and I can feel a repeat of the Third Reich,” another wrote.

“I am heartbroken seeing our America be torn apart ... by one, out-of-touch billionaire,” another wrote.

“Please help me,” another wrote.

Calabrese read every word, and as he waited for the snow to arrive, and the Americans to arrive, and email No. 4780 to arrive, he thought about how fortunate he was to live in a place where he wants to be.