#someone has to sit between them and anyone willing to volunteer is offered 3 days off of work as a reward

[evilkaeya]

what I really love about skk is how they seem to gravitate towards each other for no reason. Me personally if I was put in a situation with my arch nemesis I'd try to avoid them as much as possible. You put Dazai and Chuuya in a room full of empty chairs and they'd still sit next to each other and if you ask them why they're sitting together they'd be like he came and sat next to me I sat here first though

[firelxdykatara]

You’re doing a LoK rewrite, correct? Would be really interested in hearing how you plan on fixing Suyin’s character and the Lin-Suyin conflict because……. oh boy. Man there’s a lot to unpack there. This is what happens when we don’t let Toph just raise her fucking kids for the sake of pushing a stupid as hell narrative about working women and single motherhood.

I am indeed!

In... you know, the way I'm doing most of my big potential projects, in that I have a folder with some documents that have plot notes and... some day I may actually get full, finished fics out of them (h2o AU is in there, as is my voltron!atla fusion AU, and uhhhh my book 3 atla rewrite, and a few other things), so... but I will say that the docs I have for my LoK rewrite so far amount to roughly 4.2k words of just Plot and Character Notes, which may some day turn into words of Story, hopefully.

ANYWAY, POINT IS: yes, this exists, and I have Many Many Thoughts.

Including how the Gaang kids would shake out! Cause I know I'm doing Zutara, and maybe Tokka???? Although I don't wanna just leave Suki out either... maybe a throuple??? Or Sukka having an amicable breakup before Sokka and Toph get together--maybe she already has Lin by then, and Sokka helps support her through the grief of losing Kanto???? Idk honestly, I haven't actually figured any of that out definitively yet except that Aang was perfectly happy to settle down with an Air Acolyte from one of the rebuilt temples because he grew up and out of his crush on Katara pretty easily once he hit puberty and matured a bit.

UHHH none of which is actually an answer to your question, because it's a valid one! Which is why I've been sitting on this a while (10 days I'm so sorry) bc I haven't made any solid decisions but I've been letting it percolate around my head a bit. And the more I think about it, the more I really like the Sukka -> Tokka idea (and I don't want to kill off Suki since the kids all deserve their awesome Kyoshi warrior auntie in their lives, and also I want a Sukka kid to be besties with Iara [zuko and katara's youngest] so maybe she gets with someone else after she and Sokka split? I could be talked into Ty Lee/Suki actually, the more I think about it....), but obviously having a stable father figure and a Toph who is... not what LoK made her out to be will dramatically change the Beifong family dynamic.

That said, I think I actually have a solution. (I'm so sorry for what I'm about to do.) Toph has Lin with Kanto--and he passes away when Lin is two or three, which is why she has very few memories of her father. (Although none of this 'she doesn't even know his name until she's 50+ cause Toph didn't tell her daughters about their fathers' bullshit.) Sokka is there for her through it all (all of the gaang is, of course, but you know that it sometimes just hits different when it's someone you're also starting to fall in love with, especially when there are older and much more deeply buried feelings there that are now resurfacing, because at least in my version Toph was deeply in love with Sokka when they were teenagers, but he was in love with Suki and she also loved Suki so she didn't want to mess up anything about their family or the group dynamics by making her feelings anyone else's problem), they fall in love, get married and have Suyin.

(Sokka may jokingly refer to it as a shotgun wedding, but the truth is he wanted to propose well before he found out she was pregnant, his attempts just kept getting messed up in increasingly comedic fashion.)

Throughout all of this, Republic City has been established, Sokka is Chancellor, Toph is something of a defacto police chief--mostly because, at the time, no one else was willing to volunteer, and she jokingly offered to whip the law enforcement, but unfortunately everyone else at the meeting took her seriously. However, she is also the founder of the probending league, and basically her feelings about law enforcement are complicated and she actively discouraged her kids from joining the force which is part of why Lin did. How else do you have a teen rebel phase with a parent like Toph? (Which, in this instance, means tough and firm but fair, with a 'you break it, it's up to you to fix it' attitude and very little desire to actually control her daughters and their behavior.)

Ah, but here's the rub.

Suyin is ten years old when Sokka dies, and Lin is sixteen. I'm not sure how he's killed--maybe by Yakone, to tie it into my plans for Amon and book 1. (Note that I'm not sure when the Yakone bloodbending trial happened in canon, but it doesn't matter. The timeline I'm gonna build will be completely different post-comet, and I'll eventually write it all down so that I can keep things straight.) Which would incidentally provide excellent means of having Katara have a very personal stake in the Amon conflict, and perhaps color the fight between him and Iara, but I'm getting off track. And I think Sokka being killed by Yakone, and Toph being unable to protect or save him, or deliver her own brand of justice to avenge him (because Aang is there to stop her and.... shit probably got ugly, I suspect she didn't talk to Aang for at least twenty years after Sokka's death--and this isn't to say I think Toph is particularly violent or murderous, but in that moment, she absolutely wanted to kill the man with her bare hands, and however much she may have regretted it afterwards, she took a very long time to forgive Aang for stopping her in the first place), is what results in Toph stepping down as police chief.

She didn't withdraw from her daughters or fuck off into the swamp or anything (words cannot express how much I hate that part of her canon history), but she did grieve for a very long time. Lin, meanwhile, felt like it was up to her to keep her family together, while also feeling a desperate need to... prove herself, I think. And because her mother was so adamant that she not join the police force, that's exactly what she does. I think Lin completely misread Toph's intentions, too, and believed that the discouragement was because her mother didn't think she had what it takes, when in reality I think Toph was scared of Lin losing herself in the job like she herself had begun to, and eventually coming up on something she couldn't change or fix and making the same mistakes she had.

(I think Toph and Lin have communication issues largely because they are both headstrong and willful, but where Toph thought she was giving her daughters the room they would need to make their own way, what Lin desperately craved was direction and she felt like that was something her mother simply couldn't understand.)

Suyin, on the other hand, fell in with a bad crowd like in canon. I think that what she desperately needed was attention, similar to Lin craving direction, and Toph was trying so hard not to be her own parents that she went a little too far in the other direction and Suyin began to feel like it didn't matter what she did, her mom wouldn't care, or get angry, or discipline her, or anything. Lin and Suyin butted heads a lot growing up, too, especially after Sokka's death, because Lin tried to rein in her sister's behavior and this was met with resistance and derision because Suyin felt like Lin was trying to be both mom and dad and she was neither but her big sister would never admit to being just as lost as she was and it made her furious.

So when Suyin is sixteen, and Lin is twenty-two and new to the force, The Big Rift happens. Lin catches Suyin and her gang, tries to apprehend her, gets a scar on her face in the ensuing conflict. But instead of abusing her power and sending her problem child off to her mother before fucking off to the swamp to avoid the consequences of her actions, Toph tries to actually fix things. Suyin cools her heels in prison for a while, because she was paralyzed by guilt at the time when she hurt her sister (a few inches lower and she could have slit her throat), and was still there when Lin's backup arrived.

Uhhhhhhhhhhh..... I'm so sorry I rambled for so long, BUT THE UPSHOT IS: I think Suyin learned a bit about culpability and taking responsibility for her own actions, Toph realized that her daughters had different needs than she did at their age (and I think a lot of the problem was that grief clouded her own ability to connect with her daughters, and in trying to not be her own parents she lost sight of how to be the parent her own daughters needed), and Lin, I think, had to realize that she had never fully processed the loss of not one but two fathers and had turned to her job in order to avoid actually confronting the grief that had overshadowed her childhood.

However, she did not forgive Suyin, at least not right away--and she wasn't forced or expected to. Suyin understood that she crossed a serious line, she took her lumps and did her time, and no one shamed Lin for her anger. I think, as a result, she had less reason to hold onto that bitterness, and perhaps by the time the story actually begins, she and Suyin are on much better terms, though I haven't worked it out exactly yet.

UHHH yeah I went on for days lmao. All of this is subject to change, too, depending on the needs of the story whenever I get around to actually writing it all down, BUT these are my initial thoughts, at least.

[seventhstrife]

SubScorp Week 2021 Day 4: Lust 2/3

I literally don’t even want to talk about this, I’m still so mad it got so long LOL

Read it on AO3

Part 1

Raiden's hand glowed a cool, piercing blue as he passed his palm over the length of Kuai Liang's body in a slow, pensive motion. His eyes were narrowed in concentration and Hanzo, pacing just far enough away so that he would not disturb them, did not like the frown that was slowly growing on Raiden's face.

Kuai Liang was stretched across a small bed, one of many that lined this room in Raiden's temple. It was one used for the sick, and the lingering scent of medicine made Hanzo's skin crawl—though he made himself stay. Clean as it was, he could not help associating the scent with death, for often people found their end not on the battlefield, but later, quieter and painfully and without dignity, trapped in their own bodies as it failed them.

He wanted Kuai Liang gone from this place as soon as possible.

His fears that a simple healing would not be enough were confirmed when Raiden finally retracted his head and gave a small shake of his head.

"I have never seen magic like this," Raiden began. He met Kuai Liang's narrowed, glassy eyes squarely. "Skarlet indeed has crafted something that is as unique as it is deplorable."

"You can not help him?" Hanzo all but demanded, scowling. Once more, the thunder god's machinations cared not for the casualties left in their wake.

Raiden looked over at him, expression grim and apologetic.

"I can not. This magic was created to serve a specific purpose and tampering with it in any way may only increase its adverse effects." Raiden dropped his gaze back to Kuai Liang. "I am well aware of the practices of your clan, but there is no other solution. You must allow this to run its course."

Kuai Liang stiffened, face pinched tight with distaste—though Hanzo alone could also detect the faintest flash of...fear...in his eyes.

"You can not mean—"

"Without a partner, the poison will not abate. And should you ignore it for much longer, the heat will boil your blood until it bursts—a very slow, very painful death, Sub-Zero."

The harsh grinding of Kuai Liang's teeth was audible. "There must be another—"

"There is not," Raiden cut in, as brutally blunt as Hanzo could remember. But he was not unkind, and understanding could also be seen in his expression. "There are many here who would gladly assist one of Earthrealm's defenders."

Hanzo...did not want to hear this, he realized. Raiden was offering to find Kuai Liang a partner, a partner who would aid him while he suffered the effects of an aphrodisiac—the implications of that could not be mistaken, and he was no fool. And while it would have been uncomfortable to hear any ally experiencing such a thing, with Kuai Liang, it burned worse. His mind shied away from even the thought of Kuai Liang with another in that way. He hated it.

Kuai Liang bore an expression that plainly said that he felt the same. He raised himself up so that he sat on the edge of the cot, every visible inch of skin flushed, arms trembling ever-so-slightly—not with fatigue, but pain. Even now, a kaleidoscope of red bloomed just beneath his skin, as if the burning roil of his blood would burst at any moment.

"I will not," Kuai Liang grit out. Even with his voice slightly shaken from smothered pain, his tone brooked no argument.

Raiden's frown deepened.

"This is your life, Sub-Zero. And in service of that life, a compromise must be made."

Kuai Liang winced as if Raiden's words were barbed.

"Bedding a stranger, using them in such a way—it is disgusting," and despite himself, a note of pleading bled into Kuai Liang's voice.

It made Hanzo wince in turn, heart going out to his friend who had not asked for this, who he knew would ultimately endure such a coupling but hate every moment of it.

Hanzo dug his fingers into his upper arms, hard, where they were crossed. He stared at the marble stone beneath his feet, to better master the urge to speak. He had no say in what Kuai Liang chose to do.

Raiden made some noise of understanding and from the corner of his eye, Hanzo saw how he gently clasped Kuai Liang's shoulder, voice pitched low in understanding.

"It must be done," Raiden told him. "But they will be discreet, you have my word."

And Hanzo thought he could do this, could keep his mouth shut and quietly support his friend, even if that meant waiting at Raiden's temple as he bedded another, but he proved to be his own undoing when he saw the look on Kuai Liang's face, pained all this time, yet only now suffering, only now, did the poison truly seem to take hold.

Quiet despair and resignation dimmed his eyes and slumped his shoulders with defeat—a look he'd never seen Kuai Liang wear before and would give much to erase.

Kuai Liang opened his mouth. "...Very w—"

"What if it was someone you knew?"

The words felt as if they were coming from another person, and Hanzo was half-tempted to look behind himself when Raiden and Kuai Liang's heads snapped to him.

The urge to blush was almost as great as the sick fear that seized his heart, but he owed Kuai Liang at least this much, at least an offer. Anything that would wipe that look from his face.

Hanzo uncrossed his arms, straightened from the wall he'd rested against when Raiden's conversation had begun in earnest. He looked at Kuai Liang and Kuai Liang only.

"If you trusted this person," Hanzo continued, barely able to hear his own voice over the riotous clamor of his heartbeats, "Would it be easier?"

"I..." For the first time in memory, Kuai Liang seemed genuinely lost for words. He stared at Hanzo as if he'd never seen him before, brow furrowed, body still wracked with jerks and shivers as the poison progressed. Kuai Liang licked dry lips. "Are you...You would...?"

Hanzo bowed his head, grateful he would not have to offer himself so plainly. "I would."

Kuai Liang blinked, shook his head and turned his head away with a deep frown. "I could not ask that of you—"

"And you are not," Hanzo said firmly, drawing Kuai Liang's gaze back. "I am offering."

Kuai Liang appeared so conflicted and his hand tightened into a fist over the fabric of his pants. Indecision warred plainly on his face, and Hanzo suspected it was not on his own behalf.

Quiet and calmly, Hanzo said, "I will take no offense either way," he assured.

He knew, from time and observation, that Kuai Liang, much like himself, was a deeply private person. While others would suffer no qualms having pleasing, ultimately meaningless sex with another, for Kuai Liang it would be a form of torture. Vulnerability, of any sort, was anathema to his very being, and Hanzo knew how much it would hurt him, to have to compromise his self-control in this way.

And if there was anyone else, Hanzo would have retrieved them and brought them to Raiden's temple already—but there was no one else. Hanzo was Kuai Liang's closest and, truly, only confidante.

But the bonds of friendship did not necessarily mean Kuai Liang would be willing. With his offer, Hanzo hoped to at least soothe—if not all, then some of Kuai Liang's worries. It was his hope that the trust they had forged in their friendship would help ease Kuai Liang's guilty conscience for having to expose himself to another.

Kuai Liang was silent for a long moment as the red marks across his arms and face shifted and writhed like living things. He stared at Hanzo, panting, but his expression was difficult to decipher. He was clearly unhappy, but Hanzo had no idea of what his true thoughts were, whether he was dissatisfied with Hanzo's offer, whether he found the idea distasteful or not, or if he was still wrestling with the concept of having to lay with anyone, period.

"Then..." Kuai Liang bowed, as best he could from a sitting position and wracked with pain, "I accept."

It was difficult not to flinch—but Hanzo did his best to school any shock from his expression. The offer was freely made, and meant, but it was more than a little surprising that Kuai Liang had...accepted.

Raiden, whose face had displayed clear surprise at Hanzo's offer before he'd quickly assumed an expression that was carefully blank, stood.

"Then it is decided," he said, tone firm and business-like. His eyes held a spark of curiosity as he looked at Hanzo, but he did not speak of it. He placed a hand on Kuai Liang's shoulder and held out his other to Hanzo in a beckoning motion. "We are running short on time. I will take you to a place you will be undisturbed."

There was a flash of light and a cacophonous clap of thunder, and Hanzo found himself in a clearing, the trees a pale birch where they skirted the boundaries of a small building, a single-story made of white stone and topped with vibrant red clay tiles that sloped into elegant, pointed tips. It bore a sharp resemblance to Raiden's temple, though on a much smaller, humbler scale.

"This once belonged to an old friend who tended the gardens of my temple," Raiden said. He dropped his hold from their shoulders, eyes going distant as they traced the clearing and whatever phantom memories he saw with his ancient eyes. "But it is within the bounds of my influence and thus, under my protection. You will be safe and undisturbed here."

Raiden appeared to visibly pull himself back from his thoughts. He looked between Kuai Liang and Hanzo and whatever he saw on their faces made him incline his head decisively.

"I will ensure my people are aware that this area is off-limits for the time being." He bowed one final time. "I shall leave you. May the Elder Gods protect you, and should the poison worsen, do not hesitate to call on me."

Raiden raised his fist and in a blinding crash of lightning that nearly deafened them, he was gone.

In the ringing silence he left behind, Hanzo stared at the scorched earth as a slow, creeping anxiety grew, just waiting to swallow him whole as he realized exactly what would happen next—what he had volunteered himself for.

And Hanzo was not a religious man. Not since his clan had been brutally murdered, their cries to the gods answered not by those above, but by cold, merciless blades.

But he found himself calling on them now.

Kuai Liang met his eyes once he forced himself to look away from the place Raiden had vanished from, and though pain tightened Kuai Liang's features and furrowed his brow, flushed his skin with a thin sheen of sweat, Hanzo could feel his heart skip a beat, felt an answering clench in the pit of his stomach that betrayed his true feelings in a way that shamed him.

And the way Kuai Liang looked at him—he was close to this man, had fought countless times at his side, knew him better than perhaps anyone else, but that dark look in his eyes, unreadable but watching in a way Hanzo had never seen before—he was not unmoved by that, either.

...Elder Gods. Have mercy on me.

[sope-and-shine]

Christmas Special: Day 21

-> Pairing: Dog Hybrid!Jeongguk x Cat Hybrid!Reader // Yoongi x Named OC(Ara) -> Hybrid!AU // Fluff and sadness -> Word Count: 3.3k -> Summary: Being the last hybrid in the shelter for Christmas isn’t what you want, but maybe Santa will have a better plan for you. -> Warning(s): Abandonment // cute little boy

A/N: I kinda wanna make this a series, so let me know what y’all think.

Family has always been your number one priority. It’d been instilled in you since you were a kitten, and you’ve always taken pride in taking care of your loved ones when you could. Growing up with two younger brothers made that easy - Jimin and Taehyung always did manage to get themselves in trouble - and with you being 8 years older than them, it made taking care of them a lot easier. The three of you were separated from your mother after a bad storm when you were only 11 and your brothers were 3. You’d been scared and worried about hybrid control finding you before you could make it to your mother, and you were sure that you would be separated for good. But Mrs. Kim - the nice, old lady that you live with now - took you in and promised to keep you safe. She found you outside of her little tea shop carrying both of your brothers soaked to the bone, and she had no problem bringing you in to the warmth of her own home. 

To give you and your brothers a new one. 

During the day you helped Mrs. Kim with her everyday chores and running the shop, keeping an eye on your brothers playing with toys in the corner near the window at the front of the shop. You taught your brothers everything that your mother taught you, and you taught yourself as much as you could when everyone was asleep. Day after day you would do your best to be just like your mother, so that your brothers had someone to look up to. Being with Mrs. Kim gave you that opportunity to take care of them and give them a better chance in this world for what the 3 of you were, and if they were lucky then they’d find a home or a job with someone who would appreciate the work that you put into raising them. You spent 6 years raising them with Mrs. Kim at your side to take care of you, until the day she fell.

And then she was gone.

It wasn’t that she didn't make the fall, but she had to be placed in the care of someone who could do a better job than you could. She had to leave you, and that meant you’d be given to someone new. It meant that your brothers would be given to someone new, and there was no guarantee that this new owner would be kind, or that they would even take both of them. There was a chance that no one would take either one of them, and that scared you the most! Hybrid’s left in shelters for so long never stood a good chance, and there was always the possibility of being sold to a warehouse for constant, grueling labor with poor conditions. If your brother’s ended up in a position like that, you would actually keel over and die from heartbreak.

But someone seemed to be looking out for you.

After Mrs. Kim’s fall and she was moved to her new home where she could be watched 24/7 by trained nurses and hybrid’s, her son placed you and your brothers in the best care he could on behalf of his mother. Seokjin had two hybrids of his own at home on top of his three children, and you could understand why he couldn’t take your brother’s. Thankfully, he knew someone who ran a shelter unlike any other shelter in the city. A shelter that ensured the safety of their hybrids and didn’t allow anyone to leave with a hybrid without a full background check. Min Yoongi built his shelter from the ground up with his older brother when he turned 22 - as you learned when you first arrived with your brothers - and he’s kept it running by himself with the help of his volunteers and his wife Ara. 

It’s a large building that’s set up like a cafe in the front with a children’s themed cafe for the younger hybrids next to the counter. A small hallway runs between the kids cafe and the counter, leading to the back of the building where small rooms are built for said hybrids. It’s like a small hotel, enough to keep them safe, warm, and sane throughout their stay until they were placed in a good home. Everyday when you first arrived, Yoongi would appear in the small room he’d set up for you and your brothers at the back of the large shelter to bring you breakfast. He was used to hybrids being uncertain when they first arrived, especially older hybrids that didn’t have good experiences from their youth to now. 

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to, but my wife and I will be around all day, okay? Anything that you need, we can get it for you.” He said to you. Everyday he assured you that he and his wife would help you in anyway they could, and he kept true to his word. He fed the three of you, clothed you and your brothers, helped to teach you and your brothers, and he did his best to find the most trustworthy owners for you and your brothers.

Unfortunately, just as you thought, you and your brothers wouldn’t be able to stay together forever. Ara managed to find the perfect owner to take in your brothers, and after meeting with them in the cafe 8 times just to be sure...you didn’t have it in your heart to keep them from a better life. A man named Jung Hoseok, his heart shaped smile and the pure joy he showed when interacting with your brothers was the true deal sealer to give you the strength to let them go. The 3 of you had never cried that much since Mrs. Kim had her fall and you all had to leave her, and watching them get in the car with Hoseok and driving away was the hardest thing you ever had to do. You were sad to see them leave, but every part of you knew that you had to.

Even if you would be alone.

Now, with the holidays approaching and the hybrids around you being adopted for children and those in need of company, you find yourself to be the only hybrid left in the shelter. It wasn’t like you really expected anyone to adopt you before the holiday, but you had hope that maybe one person would take you in. You’d taken to sitting at the table next to the window of the cafe drawing whatever came to your mind: sometimes your brothers, sometimes Mrs. Kim, and even the stray picture of Ara and Yoongi spraying whipped cream at each other. When kids come in to visit, they’ll sit with you and pet your ears while you draw and color for them. Adults come in to talk with you once in a while or get opinions on things that they’re unsure of, but they always leave when they’re done.

At least you’re no stranger to their absence.

Thankfully, Yoongi and Ara are not willing to let you continue on that way. When it came time for the shelter to close for Christmas and the couple to return to their home, they surprised you in the best way possible.

“You want to me to what?” You ask, staring at the two before you in disbelief as you try to grasp what they just said to you.

“We want you to join us for Christmas.” Ara repeats, holding a coat for you to take out into the cold air. Yoongi holds a bag, presumably with your belongings for the few days you’ll be with them.

You shake your head in confusion, “Why?”

Ara’s face drops immediately, in more shock than she should be after the years she’s spent doing this. “Sweetheart...the fact that you even have to ask that-”

“-We’re not leaving you alone for the holiday.” Yoongi says. 

“We have plenty of space for you to join us, and I refuse to leave you here when you can spend Christmas with our family.” Ara assures.

They both look at you with such fondness and hope, that it’d be impossible for you to try and deny them anymore. You shrug, “I guess it would be rude to refuse.”

That’s how you find yourself being led into the tall apartment building the two have made a home in, being taken to a floor almost completely at the top of the building - in the elevator which was a very scary experience for you - and stopping in front of a door with a wreath hanging off of it and a doormat with a cat telling neighbors to kindly ‘go away’ instead of knocking. You could smell their dog hybrid all the way out in the hallway, and it made you nervous to think he’d be aggressive with you entering his territory.

Ara places a gentle arm over your shoulder, making you feel nice and protected from your worries, “It’s okay, Sweetheart, Jeongguk is a good boy. He wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Yeah, the real threat you need to worry about is-” Yoongi is cut off by a loud crash as soon as the door opens.

“Kookie! Throw Jun-Jun higher!” A small voice yells.

The three of you walk further into the apartment and find a small boy being held high above the floor while a boy about your age with fluffy brown hair and black ears, sweats with a fluffy black and brown tail peeking out and a t-shirt stares at the broken glass below him with wide eyes. His ears are up, and it’s clear he knows everyone is home now.

“Kookie will throw Jun-Jun higher as soon as Kookie cleans the glass.” He says to he little boy and breaking away from his chance. He rests the boy on his hip with a sigh and turns to offer the three of you a sheepish smile, “Hey guys. How was work?”

Ara turns away with a sigh, almost unbothered by the event like it happened every time they come home, “I’ll get the dustpan.” 

“Just bring him over here and we’ll take care of it, Gukkie.” Yoongi instructs. He turns to you and wraps an arm over your shoulder with a welcoming smile before turning back to Jeongguk, “Come and meet (Y/n). She’ll be staying with us for the holiday.”

“Nice to meet you.” He nods. You watch as Jeongguk’s eyes stare directly at Yoongi’s hand placement, watching part of his tail wrap around the little boy in his arms. Nervous yourself, you nod back to him.

“Kitty~” Thankfully, little Jun was more than happy to save the awkward tension. His arms fly out to reach for you, wriggling as much as he can in the dog hybrids tight hold. He was excited to have a new friend, and it looked like Jeongguk was also trying to hold himself back from really greeting you in fear of how you would react. But the little boy was wanting to waste no time, “Jun-Jun want pretty kitty!”

You blush, a small smile etching on your face. He reminded you of your brothers when they were younger, and you wanted nothing more than to experience that again. Hesitantly, dropping your ears and trying to not make eye contact with the more dominant hybrid, you reach your arms out in want, “May I please hold him?”

Ara and Yoongi watch hesitantly as they watch Jeongguk think for a moment before he slowly walks closer with Jun, nodding and letting the little boy leap into your arms. It’s almost unreal for the two to watch your eyes light up and a smile they hadn’t seen since your brothers had helped to make a cake for you for your birthday. You looked like it was Christmas day already as you bounce the toddler happily in your arms like he were your own, and that made the two adults happy to see you pleased as well.

“We already ordered dinner for tonight, so it should be arriving soon. Why don’t the two of you play with Minjun and get to know each other while we get some plates ready?” Yoongi suggest.

Ara nods in agreement, “You both like to draw, maybe you can start with that.”

“You draw?” Jeongguk asks, his ear perking up.

You look to the floor, avoiding his eye contact and shrug, “I draw the people I see out the window when I’m at the cafe. It gives me something else to think about.”

“I used to live at the shelter with my brother too. Ara and Yoongi talk about you alot, and I know how you feel when it comes to being separated from family.” He explains. 

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, unsure of what else you should say.

“It’s okay, I got to come here and get a new brother!” He says with a big, goofy smile. He turns to Minjun in your lap and gets face level with the boy. “Isn’t that right, Minjunnie?”

“Big brother Kookie is the best brother for Jun-Jun!” Minjun agrees, falling off of your thigh to reach out and give Jeongguk a sloppy kiss to his cheek. The both of them together made your heart feel a little more full than it had since your brothers left for Gwangju with Hoseok, and you just felt yourself feeling more and more relaxed as you continued to play and chat with them. Even through dinner, you were able to enjoy their company, along with the familiar, calming presence of Yoongi and Ara. It felt like you found a family you could trust, but their was still the fact that you’d be returning to the shelter once the holiday was over.

And then you’d be alone again.

When it came time to go to bed so Santa could come and surprise Minjun with his gifts, you were offered the spare bedroom across from his room and next to Yoongi and Ara’s. Jeongguk was right next to Minjun across from the bathroom, so it made it easier if something were to happen and Minjun needed something in the night. Minjun was actually intent on sleeping with both you and Jeongguk, but Ara was quick to talk him down for your sake. Though, the both of you did sit with him in his room to help him fall asleep.

“And then, the two little kittens jumped through the window and saved the Princess from the monster!” You tell, bringing the story based on your two brothers to an end. You watch as Minjun’s eyes try to close against his will, fluttering shut every now and then as Jeongguk strokes his hair.

“They sound so cool…” He mutters, hands holding your tail very gently as he continues to fight the sleep.

You smile, joining Jeongguk in moving stray strands of hair from Minjun’s face as his drift close, “They are! They fear no monster, and are praised when they return to the King with tales of their adventure.”

Eyes still closed, Minjun sighs, “I want...to do that too.”

“You can, Minjunnie.” Jeongguk assures him, nuzzling his nose into the little boys hair. It isn’t long before his soft snores finally reach your ears.

“He’s so easy to put to sleep.” You whisper, continuing to stroke the boys hair as he sleeps. 

Guk laughs, “Yeah, it’s how you know he’s Yoongi and Ara’s kid.”

“I remember my brothers at this age. I forgot how much I missed it…” You sigh, remembering the days where you would tell your brothers story of your mother and cuddling with them until they fell asleep. It was nice to have someone to coddle again, especially someone you didn’t have to coddle alone. “He’s so cute.”

Jeongguk lays head head on the pillow above Minjun, beginning to feel drowsy himself, “I bet your brothers really miss you too. You seem like you took good care of them.” 

You smile, “I like to think I did.” 

You lay down with your head just above Minjun’s but lower than Jeongguk’s when he asks, “What do you think they’re doing now?” It’s a question that you think about a lot when you’re at the cafe or getting ready for bed in your now empty room in the shelter. It was nice to know where they were, but it was still heartbreaking that they were so far away.

You sigh, “Well. I hope they’re being given the best life their owner can offer them. I know he’s a good guy, so I’m not worried about their treatment, but I really hope they’re happy together.”

“They are.” Jeongguk assures, seeing the longing in your eyes. He could tell how well you took care of them, and he knows just how good Yoongi and Ara are at finding homes for their hybrids. He had faith that your brothers were okay.

“How do you know?” You ask, head tilted and ear folded. Jeongguk can’t stop himself from smiling at how cute you look, reaching over the sleeping child between you and scratching your ears. 

“I can feel it.” He assures you, making sure to be gentle as he continues his petting.

By the time morning comes, the both of you don’t even realize you fell asleep in Minjun’s bed beside him. It’s only when the little boy begins jumping up and down excitedly on top of the both of you that you even realize where you’d fallen asleep. Thankfully, with Minjun dragging you to the living room to look at presents instead of the fluffy haired canine hybrid, you have no time to feel embarrassed at sharing a bed with him. 

As soon as Minjun finishes waking up his parents and they both begrudgingly leave the safety of their bed for their sons happiness, you all settle in by the tree filled with presents and begin to unwrap the treasures left for you. Gifts from husband to wife, gifts to a child disguised as a beloved holiday figure, and gifts to not one but two hybrids under the tree. It’s a happiness you didn’t think you’d get to experience again, and you’re more than happy to share it for one day with people that seemed to genuinely care about you.

“I have one more present.” Ara announces. She reaches around the side of the couch and pulls out an orange bag with purple and pink tissue paper sticking out. She places it right on top of Yoongi’s lap and pulls out her phone with a smile, “Open it.”

Yoongi is hesitant with Ara filming him, but complies anyways. He pulls at the flimsy paper until he pulls out a baby binky, staring at it like he was suddenly constipated until his face lights up in realization. He turns to her with a sudden gleam of happiness, “Are you serious?”

“That’s why I’ve felt the need to be more gentle around you.” You says, now realizing why you’ve felt so attached to her recently. She was pregnant, and you had subconsciously known this whole time.

Yoongi’s eyes are brimming with tears as he leans into his wife’s shoulder and pulls her close. He can’t express his emotions well enough in this moment of surprise, “Angel, I’m really happy…”

“So am I. Especially since we still want to add one more person to our little family besides baby #2.” She says, now turning to face you instead. Her smile doesn’t leave her face as she continues just staring at you with a look you can’t quite place.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask. You don’t get it until you take one glance at Jeongguk and he nods to you, “Wait...you mean me?”

“Yeah, we mean you.” Yoongi assures, sitting up and wiping the tears from his eyes with his arm still firmly wrapped around his wife.

“Kitty stay!” Minjun cheers, clapping happily.

“So what do you say?” Ara asks.

Jeongguk places a hand on you shoulder and teasingly asks, “Kitty stay?” As if Minjun were the one asking you to stay with them. Even so, you can’t help the smile that spreads across your cheeks or the tears that fill your eyes.

You nod, “Kitty stay.”

[norcumii]

I...might have had a plunnie bite me earlier. After chewing through angles with @dogmatix​, I’m sending it out onto the tumbls for adoption if anyone wants it, because while a bit odd, it was interesting. Feel free to snag it if it caches your interest, just please let me and/or Dogmatix know!

This is a universe where Palpatine’s plotting don’t quite go according to plan. The invasion of Naboo goes down differently. Perhaps Obi-Wan dies, perhaps none of the Force users do. Either way, when Qui-Gon goes to remind Yoda that he is training the boy, Yoda reminds him that no, the boy will not be a Jedi.

So Qui-Gon quits. If Obi-Wan’s alive, that might well cement the rift between them (his death, on the other hand, might have been significant cause to Qui-Gon’s decision – goodness knows he doesn’t tend to be very rational when he’s got Heavy Emotions around). Qui-Gon sticks around Naboo to train Anakin, because Jedi or no the kid needs training. Padmé is happy to have the young hero remain, and in short order Shmi is brought in so there’s some pretext of a normal adolescence for young Skywalker.

Sidious, meanwhile, does not appreciate such potential slipping through his fingers. His conniving takes a different turn, as he settles on how to destroy the Jedi and the Republic.

Anakin grows up somewhat well-adjusted. He and Qui-Gon don’t always see eye-to-eye on this Force business, and he refuses to be a Jedi type. It’s just...not him. This does not always sit well with Qui-Gon. Meanwhile, Anakin and Padmé grow as friends, until one day there’s a distinct mutual ‘oh no, they’re hot!’ moment which confuses them both. By the time Padmé is looking to step down as queen, she and Anakin are in a quiet, background courtship that’s reasonable, sane, and willing to take its time.

Her people still want to elect her queen for life, and she decides to challenge some cultural issues. Sure, she’ll be queen – BUT her people have to accept she’s getting into a relationship and not doing the usual quit-for-family thing, she’s going to keep working.

Padmé is very confused when the vote passes, because this is not the outcome she expected. Once Anakin finds out that he’s not required to be royal consort or anything weird like that, he just goes back to being her primary cheerleader because of course the people adore her, duh.

Palpatine meanwhile agitates the galaxy towards becoming an Empire. It might be interesting if in this universe, the clones aren’t used for the war: instead, it’s all volunteers(/conscripts). The Jedi understandably can’t handle both leading and attacking living beings in a blasted WAR, so they nope out and try to negotiate things into peace, meaning everyone is pissed with them not taking a side. Propaganda works against them, and meanwhile Sidious keeps his pawns dancing closer and closer to declaring him emperor or the equivalent.

The Naberries – what, you didn’t think they’d take Anakin’s name, did you? - try to make a life for themselves in this chaos. Kids happen. Then, when there’s 3 or 4 spawn running around, Something Tragic Happens.

The initial thought was a vacation gone horribly wrong. Perhaps two kids stay at home – lingering illness with poor timing, or someone is VERY determined that they don’t wanna. Shmi and possibly Qui-Gon are available to help care for the kids, along with Padmé’s parents. Regardless, the end result is Anakin and Padmé get separated, both with a kid each. They have reason to think the other is dead, and with the Empire now on the horizon, they are on the run, and they have to take care of the child they managed to grab.

Alternatively: Qui-Gon didn’t quit, but was Most Put Out when Anakin didn’t join up with the Jedi. Poor Obi-Wan – living or dead – might well have been the point of contention between them. Yoda simply might have put his foot down, and no one was happy with that. Regardless, Qui-Gon proceeded to complain most bitterly to sympathetic ears, and already-a-Sith-apprentice Dooku realizes this is his moment to shine. He offers to help, traveling to Naboo to teach young Skywalker the ways of the Force and perhaps coax him into the Dark side joining the Jedi.

He becomes very frustrated to find that Skywalker is doing incredibly well in a stable and happy home environment, with familial support. He is even more irked to find that teaching the brat to tap into his emotions doesn’t lead the kid down the Dark path as hoped, but just makes him more Attached. Dooku doesn’t look forward to reporting the results to his Master, but keeps trying, and even starts to concoct a long con plot to have the child think that everyone is dead and gone. Perhaps Dooku really will kill them, but that’s a planned bonus, not a guarantee.

Unfortunately for Dooku, there’s two snags. First, he finds he is growing to like Skywalker. The utter insufferable brat is someone he is...urgh. Growing fond of. Meanwhile, the second snag is that Sidious is taking “go big or go home” to heart. Instead of dumping money into armor and transports and whatnot for clone armies, he’s directing those funds into creating the Deathstar.

It all comes to a head tragically, in a combination of unfortunate events. Anakin catches Leia taking out a starfighter, and he’s insisting that nope, she isn’t doing that...without him coming along. One of the younger ones followed Aunt Sola and the cousins into a shuttle, because they wanted to go on the trip too, and remains undetected in the hold for most of the trip. Padmé discovers her child’s absences, but since someone isn’t answering his comm, Anakin, she leaves a message and goes to fetch the kid herself. The youngest, however, isn’t ready to be left alone and insists (at full volume) at not being left behind. Fine. It will be a trip, an adventure, just between them.

They end up chasing the wrong shuttle, since Sola took advantage of royal connections and got upgraded to a much earlier flight.

Dooku catches wind of things shortly before shit hits the fan, and in a moment of desperation and begrudging affection, sets one of his lingering kidnapping plans into motion. Shmi and Luke are taken, grabbed by armored guards and forcibly removed from the planet. They are in hyperspace by the time the Deathstar arrives.

Anakin and Leia bear witness, from the far side of the moons. Sure, Anakin’s first instinct upon a whole new fucking moon appearing is to get away. The Force is screaming in his ear. He left his comm at home because he hadn’t meant to end up on a joyride, he’d just gone looking for his kids.

Padmé and the other children are in hyperspace when the Deathstar fires.

Perhaps this Deathstar was constructed too quickly. Perhaps something went wrong. Perhaps when Naboo explodes, it takes out the Deathstar with it.

Whatever the reason, both are destroyed, and there is suddenly so much death screaming through the Force. When Leia and Anakin come to, Naboo and the weapon are gone. To their best knowledge, so is everyone else.

Sidious takes his opportunity, manufacturing evidence that the Jedi were behind it. The galaxy does love a scapegoat, and the Order is decimated as war criminals, sheltered by none and assisted by only a few. As a native of poor, destroyed Naboo, there is so much sympathy for Chancellor Palpatine, who declares himself emperor because there must be order.

There is an Empire, and there is a Rebellion. Padmé dives into that, struggling to find something solid that she can work towards building. She tries so hard to neither smother nor be distant from her child, and she tells them many a tale of their father and siblings.

It only takes two kidnapping attempts by Imperial types to chase Anakin underground. He’s almost completely untethered, and only the need to make sure Leia is cared for keeps him (sort of) sane and functioning. He fakes smiles and leans on his earliest skills, and the underground swoop competitions earn a new champion. Leia adores flying, and her father throws himself into keeping the bikes in the best damn condition they have ever been in. They hop from planet to planet, never using their real names and trying to find out what happened.

(At some point, a young Han Solo decides he’s gonna try his luck with the pretty swoop chick at a bar. There’s middling success, but she seems more amused by him than not, and in verbal combat she bites back – that’s fun! They’re in a nice private booth in back when her mechanic ambles over, sitting down with new drinks for all 3 of them. She thanks him as “Dad,” at which point Han is suddenly VERY nervous. “So, uh, is this where you threaten me with a shovel?”

The racer laughs, so it’s not a total fail, but ‘Dad’ is giving him a mystified look like he’s now talking Shyriiwook. “Y’know, the ‘if you harm my daughter in any way–’”

Realization crosses his face, then fella gives him this absolutely incredulous expression. “Oh hells no,” he says, taking a drink. “Leia knows how to take care of herself.”

It’s matter-of-fact, such an offended declaration. Han looks over at Leia, who has a sweet smile that somehow is also all teeth.

Han’s not sure if he’s ever been that terrified and that aroused before.)

Shmi and Luke end up at a secret facility, either on Serenno or Kamino. They’re to be held there until Dooku arrives – he was on Naboo, and so never will. They’re kept under guard by the first stormtroopers, men who are well fed on Imperial propaganda (no matter that the Empire is brand new) and were bred to be loyal. Yet Shmi recognizes slaves, and Luke just flat out likes people. It doesn’t take long to make allies, then friends of their guards.

They get quite the shock when the guards finally remove their helmets. The brand new Empire had a swift influx of loyal soldiers, clones bred in secret and ordered to remain in their interchangeable armor. Bred to be loyal, and with a brain-washing chip for those who get too far out of line. Yet the clones are intelligent beings, and it doesn’t take long for them to see what the situation is. There starts to be whispers of dissent, though no one says the actual forbidden ‘rebellion.’

Shmi becomes a bit of a cornerstone for some of them, with o so carefully edited stories of her time as a slave – and what stories ‘she might have heard about those who claimed to have escaped.’ Luke becomes a mascot, especially once the clones realize the kid already knows how to use a blaster (and use it well!), not to mention how to fight. They like teaching him tricks, and learning about the outside galaxy at the same time.

Meanwhile, with nowhere else to turn and a young child that is strong in the Force, Sola Naberrie thanks whatever gods there are when she runs into a tiny group of Jedi. She has money, and she has the Naberrie name (and she has the ghost of Naboo, which is far greater currency in this horrible new galaxy) – she takes them in and begs them to teach the child of Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, because she can only hope that is something they might have wanted. The Jedi latch on to what little bit of hope they can find, because someone in their group remembers the horrible snafu that was Jinn and the supposed Chosen One.

Besides, what else is there?

At some point, of course, it all comes to a head. The Rebellion will face down the evil Emperor, and Padmé Amidala and her child will be happy to take point. Anakin and Leia keep company with the nefarious sorts that are the only types to mingle with Jedi or Rebel scum, and where else would you go when you need all the pilots you can get? Shmi and Luke refuse to remain slaves, and neither of them would ever give up on family, no matter how they might have found and adopted them – and the clones will only remain slaves for so long, too. The Jedi will have to fight, because that is all that is left, and Chosen One or not, they’ll take all hands that will join with them.

The road back together is just as rocky and improbable as the family’s survival, but survive it they will.

[softupshur]

The Lord Rejoices: Chapter 1

Next>

Ao3 Link if you’re into that kind of thing

This work is a sequel, so if you haven’t read the original you may want to check out.

~Updates every Sunday~ During Temple Gate's founding years, Marta nears womanhood and wonders of God's plan for her.

*Warning that while this particular chapter is harmless, this story will go into game typical content involving young characters*

Chapter 1:

“For whom was it by that the line of Adam corrupted beyond salvation?”

While other students flipped through their gospels and avoided Mrs. Carson’s eye, Marta’s hand shot up.

“Yes, Marta?”

With her worn and yellowed gospel in hand, Marta stood straight and tall. “It was through Cain’s sin that the line of Adam displeased the Lord. For as Chapter 2, Verse 3 says, he was uncircumcised of heart and stiff-necked,’ corrupting his line by the murder of his brother, Abel. Thus we are descended from such sin and must seek redemption in the Lord’s eyes, as Cain’s wickedness flows through our blood.”

“Very good, Marta. Nonetheless, man continues to believe himself made of an incorruptible gold.” Her gaze returned to the sea of students. “Can anyone tell me what drives man to believe in this lie?”

Marta’s hand rose again, but Mrs. Carson only sighed. “Can we hear from someone other than Marta?”

The students opted to stare at the clock on the wall or pretend to take notes rather than volunteer. She sought the roster for a victim. “Hm...who have we not heard from in a while—ah! Otis, why do you think man continues to believe himself incorruptible?”

Snickers erupted through the class and Mrs. Carson rubbed her temple at Otis, whose head rested on the desk, unresponsive. “Can someone wake Otis?”

As she sat at the desk beside him, Marta reached over to poke his shoulder.

It was enough to make him stir, but he still took his time sitting up. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, evoking laughter from the class.

“What did I miss this time?” he grumbled.

Mrs. Carson pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a deep breath. “What is it that makes man believe himself to be above corruption?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off.

“Stand, please. You know the rules.”

After stretching, Otis stood. “Uh…” While searching for an answer, he caught a glimpse of Marta’s gospel at the furthest corner of her desk. Once he brushed his overgrown hair out of his eyes, he was able to read it.

Marta pointed to the second verse in the second chapter.

“Because of the lies received from the traditions of our fathers?” Otis attempted after scanning the mercifully short verse.

“And why are those lies created?”

“Uh…” Otis looked again to Marta, but Mrs. Carson hadn’t the patience.

“Paige! Do you think you can help Otis?

In the front row, a rosy-cheeked girl stood. “It’s because it is easier to accept a lie than face a harsh truth.”

“That’s correct, and do you know what it is that keeps man in his ignorance?”

“That would be fear.”

“Fear of what?”

Paige hesitated as she looked down at her hands. “The fear that they are not predestined as we are in Temple Gate to receive salvation and His everlasting mercy.”

“That’s right.” She motioned for Paige to sit and reclaimed her lesson. “Outside Temple Gate, man will tell you that God forgives all; that Heaven welcomes everyone, when in truth only the chosen few can be saved. Those few are the faithful ones who are willing to take up the Lord’s battle to earn His love and mercy, rather than lie in complacency and take His power for granted. For those who believe otherwise, there is only the pit.” Her eyes wandered to the ticking clock on the wall and she went to scrawl an objective onto the blackboard. “Now, there will be no regular homework for tonight because tomorrow is a test day. You are to use the time to study Chapter 2 of the prophet’s word. You will be graded on both a written portion and your dictation, so be diligent in your work.”

After giving the students a moment to write their tasks, she bowed her head. “Now let us pray.”

When the class followed her lead, she began. “Our Father who art in Heaven, we thank Thee for the luxury to gather in Your name and learn Your word. Bless all those present among us. Be with them as they journey home, and bless them with Your all-knowing and loving nature. Praise be to the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Knoth, amen.”

“Amen,” the class echoed.

The chiming of the bells broke through the school walls. The pealing was heavy and low, the kind that rattled the bones of any too close. In the silence that followed, students gathered their things and gravitated into groups. Most departed quickly in a flurry of chatter but a few lingered, Otis being one of them, dragging.

“Are you alright?” Marta asked of his sluggishness.

“Hm?” Otis blinked a few times. “Yeah, just didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Then you should consider retiring earlier. This is the third time this week you’ve slept through class.”

“Easier said than done. Seth has yet to understand the concept of bedtime.”

“Oh, I see.” Marta’s tone softened. “He really never gets tired?”

“Not that I’ve ever seen.”

“My sincerest apologies.”

“Thanks.” Otis slung his bag over his shoulder. “Hate to say hi and bye, but I got a lot of work waiting for me when I get home.”

“I understand. Good day and God bless.”

Never did Otis return her blessings, but he always offered a wave when they parted. “See ya tomorrow.”

When he left, Paige took his place. “Hi, Marta!”

“Good afternoon. How are you doing today?” Marta attempted a smile, but they were never as warm as Paige’s.

“Great! I was worried I would choke on the question like last week, but I did pretty good if I do say so myself!” Though she was one of the shortest girls in class, she puffed her chest out and stood as tall as she could.

Marta nodded. “Yes, you did very well. Especially with being called on so quickly like that.”

“I really should have seen it coming when she called on Otis.” Paige tsked.

“God help him.” Marta shook her head.

“Speaking of help, do you mind coming down to the farm? Dad is going to be home late, and I have to do a few extra chores when I get home. Would you care to lend me a hand? I could make us something to eat later.”

“I’d love to,” Marta replied.

“Great! Let’s go!” Paige took Marta’s wrist and led her out of the schoolhouse, a skip in her step. She chattered happily about this and that while Marta was content to listen. They went through the schoolyard, Paige meandering past bicycles and toys the younger children abandoned after recess. When they made it through, she let go to trot ahead.

Dark ink smudged Marta’s skin. Some faintly resembled letters. She stopped in her tracks and held up her wrist. “Paige.”

“Hm, yes?” Paige turned around. Her smile vanished when she saw the marks. “Oh.”

“Were you cheating again?”

Paige shrugged and showed the palms of her hands littered with notes and verse numbers. “I think of it more like a study guide.”

“Paige!”

“What? It’s not that I don’t get it. I’m just not as good at memorizing verses and lessons as you.”

“That just means you should study more.”

“More? But I already hear it all the time between sermon, school, and you. I’m bound to memorize it eventually. What’s wrong with having a little guide until I do?”

“Nonetheless, a few recitations wouldn’t hurt, especially with tomorrow’s test. How about we do a few after your chores?”

Though Paige pouted, she conceded with a dragged out, “Fine.”

For the remainder of the walk, they faded into idle chatter. Their destination was one of the smallest homes in Temple Gate: The Larsen Farm, built with only enough room to house Paige and her father. However, their yard was one of the largest, allowing space for dozens of chickens to wander freely. When the chickens saw Paige nearing, they rushed to the gate.

“Hello, lovelies!” Paige threw open the gate and crouched down so she could pet each one and greet them by name. “You should say hello too, Marta! They hadn’t seen you in a while.”

Only three days had passed since Marta saw them. She looked down and said a quiet, “Hello.”

Most of the chickens remained in their huddle around Paige. Only one broke away to peck at Marta’s boot.

Marta took a step back. “I don’t think they like me much.”

“Nonsense! That’s just Henrietta’s way of saying hi!”

Three pecks later and Henrietta returned to the huddle, which parted when Paige stood. They followed her in a noisy flock and Marta trailed behind them. She was careful not to step on any tail feathers until they came to a coop about the size of a large shed.

Inside were rows of nesting boxes. Most of them were empty, but resting hens occupied a few. Hay covered the floor and a full feeder stood in the center. Against one of the walls sat a basket so large that it took both hands to hold. Above it, a clipboard hung from a tack that Paige took. “You mind holding the basket?”

“Not at all.” Marta took the basket and followed Paige as she gathered eggs from each nest. She made a tally on the clipboard after each one. In another column were names of townspeople that Paige marked off as well. The basket was filled to the brim by the time she was through.

“It’s all thanks to our girls working so hard. Isn’t that right?” Paige knelt down to pet a few of the chickens.

They all clucked in agreement.

“Don’t get too excited now,” she said, “We still have some work to do.”

To pass the time between tasks, Marta and Paige exchanged rumors picked up around town. Paige told of the neighbor couple whose cow had twin calves the same day as the wife bore two healthy sons, and a recipe for the best cornbread Paige had been trying to get the older ladies to tell her. They always said “when you’re married,” no matter how much Paige pressed.

Marta, in turn, shared of a feud amongst the deacons of whether resources should be used to expand the chapel or build new homes for the growing population. Without Knoth to guide them, they bickered constantly. Some requested that Marta speak to Knoth on their behalf, but she always told them to pray for guidance. She never stayed to hear the arguments that followed.

“And that should about cover it,” Paige said once the rumors ran dry and the chores through. “Thanks so much for your help. I didn’t think we’d be able to finish so quickly.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m glad I could be of service.”

“I say we did enough to deserve some snacks, c’mon!”

They started for the house so small that Marta had to duck her head to pass through the doorway. Inside, the home was cozy. The wooden floors always shone, a hand-knitted afghan draped over the sofa, and Paige’s embroidery projects decorated the walls.

The grey family mouser cat, Thomas, meowed a hello as they entered and rubbed against Paige’s leg. “Whatever he does, don’t listen to him,” she whispered to Marta. “He’ll play nice but he’s not supposed to eat for another two hours.”

“I see…”

While Paige gathered snacks, Marta took a seat, but her knees bumped on the table. She stretched her legs to the side, nearly kicking Thomas’s food bowl, and her bony hips edged the arm rests. It felt as if the chair were made for a doll rather than a person.

After a few minutes, Paige placed the snacks on the table and sat across from Marta, who already opened her gospel.

“Shall we practice recitations now?”

Paige pouted. “Do we have to? I was having a nice time just hanging out.”

“Just for a little. It will help with the test tomorrow.”

“Oh, alright.” Paige took out her own gospel. “Where are we starting?”

“Chapter 2.”

“Okay.” After finding her place, Paige skimmed over the words. “I guess I should start, huh?”

“If you would.”

Paige took a deep breath as she turned her gospel over and started. “Verse 1: Therefore—I mean, wherefore, gird up the loins of you that would listen...ready your minds. Be open and sober in patience for revelation, as obedient as children to parents, as parents to…”

“Another ‘P’ word,” Marta said when Paige trailed off too long.

“Prophets!”

“Right! Keep going.”

“As prophets to God and His angels. Verse 2: For as much as you—”

“‘Ye,’” Marta said.

“Oh, for as much as ye know that you—”

“‘Ye.’”

“Know that ye were not made incorruptible by incorruptible gold, so are the lies of traditions received from ye—”

“‘Your.’”

Paige huffed. “Why does it constantly switch between ‘ye’ and ‘you’? Wouldn’t it be easier to just pick one or the other?”

“The gospel is transcribed as the Lord makes it known to our prophet. Papa copies it as closely as he can remember, but he is still only a man, despite his gift of communing with our Lord Almighty.”

“Yeah, but...I’d still just pick one,” Paige said. “It’s so hard to read this way.”

“That is why it is of utmost importance that we study His word. It comes to us in a nearly pure, unfiltered state. Thus, it is to be expected that it takes multiple readings and studies to fully comprehend with our imperfect, human understanding. You need only practice patience and diligence and it shall become clear.”

“If you say so…”

They continued their studies until Paige successfully recited the full chapter. Marta congratulated her and Paige offered her gratitude.

“You were such a big help today around the farm. Let me send you home with something to say thanks.”

“That won’t be necessary, really—”

But Paige was already at the icebox, pulling out a half-dozen carton of eggs. “It’s not much, but I want you to have these as a thank-you. They’re fresh and can help you make a good meal.”

“You really don’t have to. It’s my pleasure to help, truly. I don’t want to deprive your home for something I volunteered to do.”

“It’s as much of a help to us as it is to you in your home. We always have too many anyhow.”

Only then could Marta accept Paige’s offering and go on her way.

Outside, she shivered in the autumn chill, and pulled her shawl over her shoulders before the walk home. The path she followed cut through town square, which bustled during the day with craftsmen and laborers gathering to trade their goods and services. With the setting sun, it quieted to only a few stray workers who started home as well. They greeted Marta and gave their regards to the prophet before musing over what their wives prepared for dinner.

Past the square, the houses became fewer and farther between until there came an incline in the trail. Atop it was the largest home. It stood at two stories but grander than any, with the exception of the chapel. All of Temple Gate could be seen from its spot.

Marta didn’t need to lower her head when she entered. She breathed easily underneath the high ceilings and spacious rooms, and left her school bag and shawl by the door. With the carton of eggs in hand, she went to the icebox. It took some rearranging for the contents to fit, along with taking out the leftover beef to make a stew for dinner. While it never turned out as sweet as she hoped, it came with a roasted, smoky scent that welcomed her after a chilly day.

She set two places at the table, when she realized she had neglected to get the rolls from the pantry. However, she found the basket empty.

A heavy sigh followed. She abandoned the kitchen to travel up the stairs. There were two directions she could go. Left led to her bedroom. Right went to the one place in the home forbidden to her.

She went right.

Though she was not to enter Knoth’s bedroom without his explicit permission, the door was never locked. She only took a deep breath to prepare herself to pass through the doorway.

The smell of incense and wine always made her eyes water, strongest at the bed that was too plush and large for one man. She pulled it until exposing an old rug. Folding it over revealed several loose floorboards. When Marta removed them, there was a cache of food large enough to last a week. Within it were the rolls wrapped in cloth, which Marta took. The rest, she left in its place, putting the boards back and the rug as it was.

She stood so she could push the bed back to its proper spot when something metallic clattered onto the ground. At Marta’s feet lay the hunting knife that took Knoth’s eye years before. Once she finished pushing the bed, she picked up the blade and tucked it underneath the pillow before before leaving the room.

Upon exiting, she took in a deep breath of clean air before descending the stairs and returned to the dining room to finish setting the table and fetching the drinks. Beside Knoth’s, she placed three capsules, one for migraines, another for aching joints, and the third to help him sleep.

Then, she straightened the tablecloth and waited. She fiddled with the food on her plate, but never took a bite. Occasionally, she looked up at the front door, but never for more than a moment.

No one entered, but Marta sat until the food went cold. Only then did she take a bite. Three more and she abandoned the meal. She placed Knoth’s portion in the overstuffed ice box, then dumped her own in the trash. She glanced at the door once more before retiring for bed.

[diveronarpg]

Congratulations, SIDNEY! You’ve been accepted for the role of IMOGEN. Admin Rosey: First and foremost let me just say that Imogen has been one of my favorite characters in any play ever. She is the epitome of virtue and whenever I think of Lady Justice, I think of Imogen. I truly didn’t think that others would be as taken with them as I was, but Sidney, I’m so, so very happy that you’ve become as infatuated with them as I have. What got me was the tally that you kept running between their head and their heart. It’s something that encapsulates their struggle in both Shakespeare’s plays and in Isabella as well. You know how to ruin us, so ruin us well with Imogen why don’t you?  Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

Out of Character

Alias | Sidney Age | 21 Preferred Pronouns | She/her Activity Level | I’m fairly active! I’m usually here when I’m not working or sleeping, and most likely mobile and available to plot. I get to replies within 1-3 days depending on muse and time management! On a numerical scale, I’d say I’m a 6-7/10. Timezone | EST Current/Past RP Accounts | My current DV account is here.

In Character

Character | Imogen / Isabella Gagliano (this would be my second character!)

Isabella ‘Izzy’ Beatriz Gagliano

ISABELLA - devoted to God; quite literal but not chosen for its meaning but because it was their grandmother’s name, something their father was adamant about his child bearing. To this day, they hate it on pure principle and prefer Izzy above all else. Bella, but only if you’re lucky.

BEATRIZ - happiness, bringer of joy; chosen by their mother especially for her baby girl, for her daughter’s face always brought out a smile in whoever held them. This is often the name they give out as their last and it is the name attached to all articles they’ve written for public consumption. They have identification to match as well; very few know their true surname and that’s the way they prefers it.

GAGLIANO - joyous, hard, brave; wholly not of their choosing and one they hated much throughout their youth as it followed them wherever they went, tragedy in tow. They shed it the moment they left Spain and never looked back. It belongs to their father and for all they care, he can fucking keep it.

What is a future plot idea you have in mind for the character?

ONE: COMEUPPANCE

Undeniably, Izzy has a lot of rage. Granted, it lies in wait deep beneath the surface, often clouded by their ever changing emotions and the vast spectrum of creativity that encompasses their mind on any given day, but it’s there if you know where to look. If you cut deep enough, there’s no telling what they’ll do to retaliate. What I’d love to explore is their hunger for justice. How far are they willing to go to expose the truth? They want nothing more than to lay Verona’s sins before the people’s feet, for all the world to see. And while they think they’re doing all these things for the greater good, I’d love to push them into a much more morally grey territory. They’ve already dabbled in anarchy when they watched as Nikolai set the Northern Grove aflame. But do they know Puck seriously injured someone? And are they okay with that as long as it means justice will be served? I’m a sucker for negative development and I think Izzy is the perfect person to nudge closer and closer to the edge of their own haphazardly constructed set of rules in hopes they breaks them. They’re bound and determined to punish someone, but I don’t think they realize you cannot pick and choose the lives lost in times of war. And their reckless wrath is guaranteed to take down an innocent person or two much sooner rather than later.

TWO: INTELLECT

They’re so smart, well read, and kept up-to-date on all current events as they make it their business to be, but their heart — Izzy’s fickle, fickle heart — and the madness it contains is almost too strong for the sharpest of minds to compete with. It’s taken them a long while to learn how to balance that fire that resides deep within their chest, the flames licking along the edges of their heart against the natural intellect and heaps of knowledge embedded inside their mind. It’s a constant battle, from one moment to the next a fight between head and heart, and sometimes — a lot of the time, if they’re being truthful — their heart wins. They can’t help it; they feel so deeply. This was always something their mother encouraged, though. To not feel is to not live, she’d say but as Izzy aged, the more they were penalized for daring to do such a thing. The more tears they shed, the dirtier the looks were from their peers and the less they were listened to. But the farther Izzy is pushed, the more these horrible people get away with ruining an entire city, the more likely Izzy is to crumble and crack under pressure. The results of which could be catastrophic for not only her but everyone else. This is a daily struggle for Izzy, balancing decision making between what they feel is right and what they know is probable. As of late that intellect they’re so proud of has taken a bit of a back seat in favor of such strong emotions. I think it’s entirely possible that Izzy will make a very poor decision based on what their heart wants versus what they know is the right choice. And furthermore I want them to make that decision! Whether its furthering their trust in Nikolai even though they know they shouldn’t. There’s no going back once the deed is done; you can’t take back decisions of a vengeful heart, you can only move forward once they’re made. That’s the funny thing about love, especially when Izzy since loves so intensely. And they’re the type of person who will do anything their heart tells them to. Anything.

THREE: HUBRIS

Working with the likes of Puck and Nikolai, Izzy has gained a certain confidence. Everything has been going their way and they’ve gotten exactly what they wanted. But does Izzy truly even know what that is? I think whether the Montagues and Capulets live or die has become a second burner problem for them right now. The light of the sun is far too bright for them to make out anything other than the vengeance that has been so prevalent in their vision for so long. And the successful ruination at the Northern Grove has only made them more confident that what they’re doing, this mission they’re on, is exactly the right answer. I want to develop this further as Izzy will surely begin to dance with many a devil in the streets of Verona. The only way to win a war is to secure allied forces and then strike. But will they be foolish enough to trust the devil himself? I don’t know that Izzy will be able to see past a fatal deceit as they cascade closer and closer to the sun. If only they could just reach it. Touch it. It’d make everything better, wouldn’t it? If they can just get it, that holy grail, that one vital piece of information that could make the whole house of cards come crashing down, it’d all be worth it. Every sacrifice, every life lost. At least that’s what they tell themselves. But what of the hero who thinks themselves a god? It’s one thing to save people for the sake of saving them but it is an entirely different kind of monster to demand they revere you for your work. I’d love to put Izzy in a situation in which there’s the chance to put their name on one of the many good deeds they do! They’ve lived a life of modesty for so long, even going so far as to conceal their true surname, but how will they fair if they start to garner recognition? I can’t wait to find out.

Are you comfortable with killing off your character? | Yes.

In Depth

In-Character Interview:

What is your favorite place in Verona?

She first thinks of To Tame A Soup and all the people it helps, all the mouths it feeds and the beds it offers to those in need of a warm night’s sleep. It brings a smile to her face, eyes lulling shut as she leans back in the couch. The question, on the lips of someone she doesn’t trust but is indebted to for exactly this purpose, begs to be answered. Truthfully. Thankfully the first lesson she’d learned when she’d arrived in Verona was how to lie, something every citizen needs to become proficient in if they intend to survive.

“The Library,” she lied with a smile and a slight cant of her head. “All those books,” she leans in close, eyes widening at the mention of literature, which wasn’t a falsehood by the slightest. It’s always better to tell an adjacent truth. The advice sings in her head like a sweet melody she’ll never forget. “I could spend hours in there,” she smiles, thinking back to the past five Sundays she has spent there. At least a dozen books all spread out across the table before her, laptop open as she typed furiously, looking from one text to the other every so often.

From a distance, she looked as inconspicuous as anyone. A student studying for an exam, that was her cover, and naturally, it worked. Her notes, however, would beg to differ, covering nothing from the books before her but instead noting every Montague who came and went.

“But I’m sure I’m not the only one who loves it there.”

What does your typical day look like?

“It depends if I’m on a deadline,” she clears her throat and adjusts in her seat, letting the deception fall off her shoulders as she rests back again. “If I am, I wake early and head out to find a quiet place to write,” her eyes wander over to her desk in the corner, papers littered about. “It’s hard for me to write here most times. There’s too much to distract me,” she lets out a small laugh, self-deprecating in its tone. “I have horrible impulse control.”

“I volunteer as much as I can throughout the week when I’m not working as well, but other than that…” arms now crossed, one hand drifts up and she begins to tap an index finger against her chin as she thinks back over the past week, “I like the theater…” she’s grasping at straws now, quite nervous to tell them she rather enjoys just sitting at home most nights.

“I’m relatively boring, I suppose.”

What has been your biggest mistake thus far?

Falling in love.

Izzy doesn’t even have to think before the answer comes to her in a rushing tidal wave of bittersweet happiness, the image of Celeste peeking into her closed eyes. Now that is the truest answer of them all and it’s something she’d never want Celeste to know. Regret is never something Izzy wants to carry around, but at this point, the guise of calm, cool, and collected is bound to shatter. The thought breaks her heart in this moment, sitting before a stranger asking shallow questions one moment and asking Izzy to bear her soul the next. Tears sting in her eyes the moment she opens them, the dam that rests between her head and her heart threatening to break at any moment.

“I’m not sure…” she stutters, unable to form the right words — unable to come up with a suitable lie on the spot. She repeats the same gesture as before, one arm raising to rest beneath her chin as an index finger taps furiously against her chin. This time it rises and runs along her bottom lip. The truth is Izzy has never had to look this deep inside. She’s never been asked to critique her own character, nor should she. She is always justified in any of her actions and has to answer to no one.

“Next question,” she says firmly, digit rising a couple more inches to wipe away the one tear that broke through. It’s damp against the pad of her finger but she doesn’t linger and wipes it away on her knee.

Head: 1 Heart: 0

What has been the most difficult task asked of you?

In an instant, she’s agitated. Frustrated beyond belief at the audacity of this person that she barely knows asking all these questions of which they have no right to the answer.She was doing them the favor after all, so how dare they?

“This,” she blurted, eyes rolling too fast for her to stop herself.

Head: 1 Heart: 1

Fuck.

What are your thoughts on the war between the Capulets and the Montagues?

The mere mention of them is enough to cause her to clench her fists where she sits. She clenches so tight a knuckle cracks and she plays it off by cracking a few more and forcing a complacent smile onto her features.

“Truthfully?” she asks as calmly as she can, but she can’t resist the offer to say her piece. If they really wanted to know, Izzy would tell them exactly what she thinks. “I think they’re going to rip this city a part.” Her statement is matter of fact, concluded with a nod and a stern look of intent at the asker. It’s a truth she believes deep in her bones, all the way into her core. “They will take what they want,” her teeth grind against the t, “kill who they want.” There’s a flash in her mind of her mother, knife slipping between her ribs as she cries out in pain. Izzy clenches her fists once more, pushing them to either side of her thighs against the couch. “They corrupt whoever they like and care not for who they hurt.”

And I’ll take down every last one of them.

She’s seething now, nails digging into her own palms to keep her from smashing them against something, like the face of the person before her.

“Is that enough?” she asks, again through gritted teeth, but she doesn’t wait for an answer and instead rises from her seat. “Great.” She snaps,  walking across the living room and opening the front door to her apartment.

“Leave.”

Head: 1 Heart: 2

Extras:

Pinterest Mockblog

HEADCANONS:

— ASTROLOGY: Born March 24th, Izzy is an Aries.       +Element: fire - quite emotional and compassionate to a fault, always giving far more than they receive if for no other reason than to remain loyal to those emotions.       + Ruler: mars - an animalistic nature, it calls to their impetuous tendencies, inciting rage and destruction at the drop of a hat.       + Color(s): red - vibrant and attention-seeking, it’s rare that they don it but are instead often drawn to its excitement and promise of adventure.

— STRENGTHS: audacious, determined, self-assured, ardent, creative, insightful, altruistic, honest.

— WEAKNESSES: impatient, sensitive, moody, short-tempered, perfectionistic, impulsive, contentious.

— MBTI: INFJ, the advocate - takes great happiness from helping people, spends the time to get to the root of issues and work through them, sees a world full of inequity but knows it doesn’t have to be that way, and truly believes a little help can go a long way, but sometimes they forget to care for themselves and overcorrect for certain causes which puts them in jeopardy, though they write it off as having been worth it all in the end if progress was made.

— ALIGNMENT: Lawful Neutral, the judge - their mother, the basis of their entire moral compass, taught them right from wrong and shaped their entire view of the world with just a few kind acts. Feeding the homeless was something they did every Sunday afternoon together, mother and daughter each with smiles upon their face, filled with joy at the simple act of helping. But it wasn’t until they watched the very woman who gave them life fight tooth and nail, time and time again for those less fortunate than them. Their mother would have offered a stranger on the street the clothes off her back and the shoes on her feet if she felt it would improve their life. She was generous and kind and expected nothing in return for all her good deeds. It taught Izzy how to love, this ever apparent generosity present throughout their youth, and as they aged, they did so with their whole heart. They dove head first into philanthropy the moment they left Spain, using their knack for words to shine a light on the injustices of the world in hopes of making a real change. And they have no intent on stopping within Verona. They’ll burn the whole city down if it means it’ll return, but this time just and pure of heart.

— GENDER/SEXUALITY: Izzy, while not a fan of labels at all and if forced, identifies as a demigirl and prefers she/her and they/them pronouns. Femininity has never been something they’ve felt terribly attached to, nor do they shy away from what society would deem as ‘for women’, but there’s always been a bit of a disconnect from it. It’s a sore subject if pressed, causing Izzy immense stress when brought up. Memories of their stepmother spewing hate for every little thing about them flood their mind and tears swell in their eyes from the echo of rejection for simply being themself. / They’d call themselves a lover of everyone, if they’re being honest. At least ten times a day they turn smitten in an instant! With just one glance from a handsome stockbroker who held the door for them at a cafe. A coy smile from a waitress at Hotel Emelia can send them into a giggling fit, cheeks flushing a rosy red. They’re a biromantic, through and through, enjoying — indulging in whoever’s holding their heart in their palm for the moment, regardless of their gender. But for them to give themselves to you, it needs to mean something. It has to matter. Izzy is smart; they know their heart is fickle, and while most days it rules their choices, those welcome in their bed must earn it first. Some would call them a slut, if they were lacking character and down to their two brain cells. Most call them a tease, leaving a trail of kisses in their indecisive wake. But Izzy knows themself to be demisexual, and in need of a strong emotional bond before spreading their legs.

— CELESTE: It defies logic, how much Izzy loves her. All normal, rational thought evades her whenever the girl is near. The fact that she remains, to this day, a part of one of the very organizations Izzy is bound and determined to take down seemingly makes no difference. Not when her heart practically sings in the face of Celeste Duval. It’s assuredly unnatural, of which the two have discussed at length. She’s married, after all and that fact seems to evade her lover’s mind as well. Perhaps that’s what makes it exciting, but it’s also what makes it that much more stressful. Izzy is in constant battle with herself when it comes to Celeste. It’s as if each time they’re apart, she formulates a plan to sever the bond for the good of the both of them, but the moment she lays eyes on Celeste, she can’t think. She can only feel. And what she feels is so much stronger than any argument her brain could muster. But is Izzy willing to sacrifice everything for her? Deep down she knows the answer and deep down she hates herself for it.

— NIKOLAI: He’s so handsome, of this she’s positive simply because of the way his smile causes her heart to race. To say she fell in love with him the first moment they met would be entirely accurate, for he knew exactly what to say to tug at her weaknesses. By far one of her worst qualities, she wears her heart on her sleeve, like an open wound laid bare for anyone to rub salt in. Though deep down, she always hopes it’ll be sugar. She always wants to believe the best in people, and certainly the same goes for Nik. He was so earnest during their first talks, so generous with his information and sympathetic to her cause, to her fight for justice within the bloodied streets of Verona. She barely had time to check on him, to look him up and sink her teeth into his past like any good journalist would. If she isn’t careful, he could expose her entire plot, but damn if he doesn’t have the deepest of sea blue eyes. And each time he’s near, all careful planning and hard earned wisdom Izzy has gathered fades away in favor of going for a swim.

— DELILAH: It breaks her heart to see a good woman silenced, especially when she’s been falsely promised so much. The Capulets appease her doubts over and over, each time she dares to break her silence if but just for a moment; but Izzy can see the storm behind her eyes, if only Delilah would let the floodgates flow open. With the whisper of a few secrets and a pen put to paper, the entire underbelly of Verona could rest in the palm of their hands. All she needs is a little push. And Izzy has every intention of doing so, no matter what.

[nomxsicmiguel]

I know we haven't done much yet but Snow and Miguel??

[ send me a ship and i’ll tell you the first 5 things that come to mind when i think about it ]

1. ) The pleasant aroma of a cup of tea or the nice chill of a glass of lemonade 

Snow is such a sweetheart and attentive person, it’s not shocking that they would always be offering one something to drink whenever they stop by their home. Though this was just something that Snow does out of being courteous and a good host, just the thought of both Snow and Miguel sitting by the kitchen table of their home while sharing either a nice hot cup of tea or a cool glass of lemonade? That would just become their thing. It would come to the point in where Snow wouldn’t even need to ask Miguel if he wanted anything to drink whenever he comes to visit, they would already have something ready for when he comes over.

Of course, it really depends on the day? If it is a nice and cool day, than a cup of tea would be the better option. But if it is rather warm outside, lemonade would be much appreciated. Snow as well, would have some sweets ready as well, but Miguel wouldn’t want Snow to always be the one to provide things so he has put it upon himself to bake something with his Abuelita Elena so that he could bring along with him whenever he comes to visit. 

This would truly just be one of the more nicer and calmer moments shared between the two. 

2. ) Sitting shoulder to shoulder against the couch while exchanging stories about their familia’s

Both loves to listen and both has a good amount of stories to tell, so why not have the pair sit next to one another against the couch and just simply share? For Miguel, he would always be talking about anything new that had recently conspired within his familia. Whether it was another event of his Abuelita almost attacking someone with her chancleta, or even the latest attempt of going out on a date that his Tía Gloria tried to have and how come it failed miserably and yet she didn’t mind it at all because to his Tía Gloria ‘There ain’t no man out there who can tame a chica salvaje as her!.’ With Snow, they would go on and on about what her roommates had done, and how they found one of them fast asleep inside the hallway closet and yet no one even realized it until late that afternoon or even how Snow didn’t realize that they added just a tad bit too much pepper in their dinner the other night, causing all of their roommates to sneeze up a storm! (especially one of her roommates who just couldn’t stop sneezing even once everyone else were finally able to stop!)

Back and forth, Miguel and Snow would be exchanging random stories here and there, enjoying themselves as one spoke and the other listened. Nothing else has to be happened as they do so either, it’s just them talking and enjoying themselves while they do so.

3. ) Weekly strolls through the park as birds chipped around them and a mexican hairless dog walked between them

Talking a stroll through the park sounds like the number one thing that the pair would do if they weren’t visiting one another at each other’s home. They both are rather fond of being out doors and so the park sounds like the best place for them. Mainly because Snow enjoys watching the birds chirp and fly around, while Miguel gets to play catch with Dante, who always accompanies them whenever they go out.

Dante rather enjoys Snow’s presences, was instantly friendly when he first met them and was rather searching for their attention the most at that! Miguel had joked to Snow about how they were stealing his best friend away from him, but he only said that as a form of teasing since he was actually rather glad that Dante took a liking to Snow. He would hate if his best friend didn’t like his new one! 

4. ) Turning a cleaning session around the house into a dancing game

There are just those times in where Miguel comes over to Snow’s home and he catches them while they are in the middle of cleaning. While he doesn’t mind waiting until they finish and though Snow doesn’t exactly asks him to help, Miguel would sometime volunteer to help Snow with the house cleaning. He is not one for doing so (god knows that his bedroom is a complete mess and Snow would only have a heart attack if they saw how much of a mess it was), he was more than willing to help Snow clean if it means helping them get done with it faster.

But after like the third time of helping Snow with their house cleaning, it suddenly came to a point in where the pair decided to turn cleaning into some sort of game. A dancing one at that! Miguel has informed Snow that he wasn’t much of a dancer, but Snow had reassured him that he didn’t need to know how to dance in order to have fun while doing so. Suddenly, the pair was twirling around, flaring their arms and just having a merry good old time!

The cleaning gets done much faster whenever they decide to turn it into a dancing game.

5. ) Fond laughter and the constant ramblings of what can be considered as complete nonsense to anyone but themselves

There may be a lot of people around Carthay who could ramble on and on for a long time, but Snow and Miguel are no exceptions to this concept because whenever they are together, going on and on into random conversation happens so easily between them. It could be over the most basics of things, like how blue the sky seemed to be that day or how adorable it was for Snow to see a six year old check out their very first book from the library!

They would just talk and they will continue to do so from day to night. Sometimes they get so caught up with just talking, neither Snow or Miguel would even realize just how much time has passes until one of the two either takes a look out the window or if one of Miguel’s familia members decide to call him to ask why he wasn’t back home yet. Once they realize this, neither of the two can help but burst out into laughter, because how can they not? Talking to each other is fun and the fact that time passes so quickly whenever they get lost while talking shows that they are rather comfortable with just doing that.

[mental-health-advice]

Submission about being social

{1} I used to be a very social person, but since middle school I can barely make friends with anyone. It used to be that I would try to make friends with people and they would ignore me or only answer me to avoid being rude. Sometimes people were nice enough to pretend to be friends with me for a while, but would eventually either tell me they didn’t want to hang out with me anymore or just try to distance themselves from me. I don’t know why people did this, I never saw any big differences

{2} between how I acted and how everyone else did. I remember noticing this from when I was 7 or 8, but when I was 14 it started to bother me, and it’s kind of gone downhill from there. Once I got to high school, I failed every group project because I couldn’t bring myself to ask anyone to work with me, I had no friends, and I stopped talking to my middle school friends and hoped they would forget I ever existed. Whenever I

{3} have to speak or do literally anything that’s not sitting in a chair, I’m always so awkward that I end up hating myself for the rest of the day, one time I fell down the stairs at school as over a thousand people were going to lunch, all of which immediately burst into laughter and I was genuinely thinking about going to the third floor and jumping off the rails. Eventually I started seriously thinking about if I was supposed to

{4} be in the world or not and started self harming, and that low point is where I’ve been for the last few years, but I am a few months clean. I know you didn’t really want a full autobiography, so feel free to skip it if it’s too long, but I felt like you had to know the whole story. I just want to be as social and happy as I used to be, but I don’t know how to get there or how to get people to start treating me like a normal person.

Hi love,

Thank you for getting in touch with us here at MHA! I am really sorry that you are struggling so much right now, but reaching out to us for help was a great step to take <3 I hope I’ll be able to give you a little information and advice about how to begin dealing with these negative feelings.

First of all, I am so so sorry that there thoughts have caused you to struggling with self harm and suicidal thoughts.  I do need to say that if you ever take any action to end your life or seriously hurt yourself, then please call your local emergency services (e.g. 911) for immediate medical attention. If you are reaching a crisis point and are in danger of harming yourself then try to get yourself to the ER, or to somewhere safe and contact someone who can come and help to keep you safe. You can also always  contact a helpline or web counsellor for 24/7 support. I want you to know that you are definitely meant to be part of this world, and you bring love and happiness that the world would greatly miss if you weren’t here. You are so loved <3

I am so sorry that you are struggling with urges to self-harm - but please know that you are definitely not alone. I, too, have used self harm as a way to cope with feelings of depression and anxiety. I am going to link you to some of our pages about self harm and ways to try and overcome the urges you may have to hurt yourself. Personally I found the most helpful thing when facing an urge, was to keep my hands busy by doing something active like knitting or playing an instrument. A technique I suggest you try is working with time goals - so whenever you are facing an urge to hurt yourself, say to yourself that you will not hurt yourself for 5 minutes, and then when that 5 minutes is up the urge may have passed entirely. If the urge has not passed, then keep going with promising yourself you won’t hurt yourself for x amount of time, until the urge goes away; I promise it will go away eventually <3

Information about self-harm Alternatives to self-harm Distractions from self-harm Reasons not to self-harm Youtube videos

I am not a professional, so I cannot make any definite comment on what you may be experiencing, but I do know that you are going through a really hard time right now and you deserve to get access to all of the help available to you. I really do think it would be a good idea for you to reach out to a professional for some support. A good place to start would be your doctor; they can explore possible diagnosis’s with you and will be able to refer you to some more specialist help from a mental health practitioner. I know how hard it can be to admit feelings of hurting yourself and loneliness, but the professionals you see only have your best interests at heart and will help you to explore the most effective treatment(s) for you. You may be offered medication, inpatient treatment, talking therapies, and many other options; it is about working with the professional and finding which treatment will work best for you in your current state. Talking therapy may be a really good place for you to start as a therapist will be able to help you understand your negative thoughts and what is triggering them; further to this, they will hopefully be able to give you some great coping techniques. Here is a link to our page about getting help; if this page leaves you with any questions about seeking treatment, then please drop us another message and one of the other admins or I will be more than willing to help you out!

Again, bearing in mind that I am not a professional, and anything I say is based off my own knowledge and experiences - it does sound to me like you may be experiencing a degree of social anxiety.  To begin with, I’m going to link you to our page about social anxiety here; this has a lot of information about social anxiety and some of the diagnostic criteria.

To challenge negative thoughts, I found it really useful to stop, acknowledge my thought, and then ask myself whether I have any evidence to support that thought. For example, if I find myself thinking ‘he thinks i’m stupid’, I stop and ask myself ‘Are you just mind-reading? What evidence do you have to say that he thinks you’re stupid?’ Normally, you will find that you don’t have any evidence to support that thought, and challenging it can help you to dismiss and move over the thought.  I suggest you have a look at our anxiety page series, specifically the self-help and calming down pages. Grounding techniques may also be really useful to you when your anxiety is increasing, we have a page about this here. I would recommend something physical like running your hands under cold water, and then saying the alphabet forwards and then backwards slowly.

Something I want you to try, if you feel able to, is to start looking at the patterns in your social anxiety. So think back to some of the times when you have experienced social anxiety, and start to break it down into:

Your thoughts before a social event (e.g. everyone will think i’m stupid)

The physical symptoms you experience (e.g. panic attack)

The negative view you have of yourself (e.g. i look really ugly today)

Avoidance behaviours you use (e.g. playing on my phone)

Your thoughts after a social event (e.g. everyone hates me and won’t want to spend time with me again)

It may also be really good to keep a diary for whenever you feel anxious in the future and note down how each attack fits into the above categories. This can be really useful as it helps you to understand what is behind the anxiety and it means you can start tackling it in smaller sections. Recognising and tackling it in smaller sections can help you to feel less overwhelmed and lost in the negatives!

When dealing with anxiety in social settings it can be really tempting to throw yourself into the deep end and try and face the issue completely head on straight away; sometimes this can actually hinder progress rather than help. So maybe a good place to start would just be spending time with a close friend that you trust and maybe letting them introduce you to someone new? Then slowly you can start meeting more and more people; hopefully just meeting one or two at once will build up your confidence and make the process a little less scary for you.

Online is also a great way to make friends or at least first contact someone. For example, I have made a lot of friends on Tumblr through recovery pages or fandom accounts. There are plenty of wonderful people online who will be more than willing to chat to you, and i’m sure there is at least one person that you share a common interest with, no matter how niche it may be! Or a little message to someone on facebook, like just a ‘hi! how are you?’ is a great way to start up a conversation and begin building a bond with someone. Hopefully, talking to people online will make it a little easier for you to start talking to them in person too! Have you looked at any local groups or volunteer programmes that you would be interested in joining? Sometimes just knowing that you have an interest or passion in common with someone can make it a little easier to begin chatting with them.

I hope this has been of some use to you, lovely. If there is ever anything else that we can help you with, then please don’t hesitate to get back in touch. Take care!

‘‘Fall down seven times, stand up eight’‘.

Rhiann xo

[janeromas]

10 Tips to Help Family Members of Addicts Cope

In 2019, out 5.8% percent of American adults were dependent on alcohol or had difficulties relating to alcohol use, and more than 11.7% of Americans aged 12 or older reported using an illicit drug in the prior month.

These statistics represent millions of people struggling with substance misuse and addiction and nearly all of these people have family members and friends rooting for their eventual recovery. Families play a large role in the recovery process, so it is important for spouses, siblings, parents, children, friends and others to understand how to help.

If you’re the loved one of someone struggling with addiction, you may have many questions and concerns, such as:

How to deal with addiction

How to support your loved one

Finding support groups for families of addicts

Addiction can happen to anyone — even in communities filled with loving people. When an addiction develops, family members and friends are also often directly impacted by the addiction. That’s why, in addition to taking steps to help get your loved one into a treatment program, it’s important for family members and friends to have a good understanding of addiction and how to continue to take care of their own health as well. This helps you provide the love and support the addicted person needs in order to heal. Here are 10 tips that can help.

1.) Learn as much as possible about addiction.

Education can help families escape the blame game. Rather than believing that the person’s addiction stems from weakness, willfulness or stubbornness, it might be helpful to understand how it actually stems from changes within the brain. Understanding that addiction is not a choice might help you let go of anger and resentment you may be feeling about your loved one’s addiction.

There are many online resources that can help families learn about addiction. Most bookstores also offer a wide selection of books about the chemistry of addiction and the science behind addiction treatment.

Additionally, every day, research teams are conducting in-depth studies about drugs. They’re learning more about how substances interact with the cells inside the brain, and they’re using that knowledge to develop new treatments that might one day either treat or prevent addictions.

That’s the sort of knowledge that can help boost a family’s sense of hope. With each advancement, you can feel more confident that the addiction can be treated and conquered.

2.) Connect with understanding peers.

It’s not always easy to live with or support someone who has an addiction. As research points out, addiction in a close relative can serve as a stressful life situation that persists for years, and that long-term dysfunction can make it hard for families to communicate clearly. There can be a block of mistrust between every member of a family touched by the addiction.

The goal of these programs is to provide help for families of addicts. They also provide a safe, nonjudgmental space where family members can learn, discuss and cope with an addiction unfolding in their midst.

People go to meetings like this for all sorts of reasons, but one survey found that many participants were drawn to meetings because they were hoping for help with:

Finding a better quality of life

Having fewer problems with the addicted person

Lowering levels of stress

Improving psychological health

These are lofty goals, but meetings really can help. By going to a meeting and listening to other family members, feelings of isolation and doubt may begin to fade. Families may also get the skills they need to better handle the interpersonal problems they’re facing. These meetings can help families learn how to deal with a loved one’s addiction.

3.) Go to family therapy sessions.

Spouses, siblings and parents of addicts often absorb many of the consequences of their loved one’s substance use. Many people have a hard time talking openly about the behavior that’s harming them, so they say nothing. Family members can also become distant if they’re tired of fighting with their loved one. They may blame themselves when the addiction persists or blame the addicted person for their unhappiness.

These silences and blame games can hold a family back from getting help. Family members may not have the tools on their own to assist someone in active recovery and they may not have the energy to help themselves.

Family therapy programs are designed to break down distrust and guilt by giving everyone a chance to feel heard. It can help family members understand themselves and each other, and work through conflict in a healthy way.Families that were once defined by anger and addiction can grow into tight-knit units that are able to support one another through honest communication and healthy boundaries.

Family therapy sessions can take time, and it can be tempting to skip a session — particularly for families with a number of conflicting appointments and agendas. However, this work is vital to the mental health of everyone involved, so meetings should be attended whenever possible.

4.) Prepare meals and eat them as a family.

In today’s modern, chaotic world, it���s all too easy to eat separately. One partner grabs a burger on the way home, the other snacks on salad at work and the kids heat up ready-made foods they can find in the freezer.

A family meal allows everyone to reconnect at the end of a day that may have been stressful, lonely or upsetting. Each meal helps build upon the work done in family therapy, and the ritual of eating together can promote a sense of common ground and togetherness.

The activity doesn’t have to stop at the table, either. Spending time making the meal together or cleaning up afterwards can increase the benefits. Even one meal together per week can have a significant impact.

5.) Manage expectations.

When an addicted person enters treatment and the family embarks on the recovery journey, the sense of hope everyone feels can be exciting. Finally, the addiction issue is being addressed. Finally, things will get better.

Unfortunately, it can take a long time for the behaviors and patterns associated with addiction to really change. The person may hold on to old habits or become frustrated with the recovery process. Sometimes, that slow shift leads to disappointment.

A relapse can be especially disheartening. In these moments, it can be helpful to remember that relapse does not mean failure for your loved one or for you. Addiction is a chronic disease, making relapse a normal part of recovery. While steps can be taken to help prevent a relapse, recovery is a lifelong journey of ups and downs, not a single event.

It’s also important to manage expectations for yourself and other family members. It takes time and effort for relationships to heal. Families in early recovery may make mistakes and they may not be their ideal selves, but they can still enjoy their time together and actively support one another. Even if things aren’t “perfect,” they can still be more meaningful as you work together towards a drug-free life.

6.) Stay in touch with personal joy.

Managing expectations is a little easier when individuals are responsible for their own bliss. That means every member of a recovering family needs to take time to do something that’s relaxing and fulfilling. This could include:

Playing an instrument

Taking nature photographs

Volunteering with animals

Playing with children

Gardening

Cooking

Crafting

These activities and others like them can make the participant feel happy, preserve a sense of efficacy and worth and help boost mental health.

For example, an author for Psychology Today reports that knitters get a boost of calming chemicals in their brain cells when they sit down with needles and yarn. The hobby is repetitive, but these actions can be soothing. 

It’s a form of meditation that allows people to slow down their active brain cells. At the end of a knitting session, people have a product to show for the time they’ve spent. When life is full of activities that seem hard to complete and progress is difficult to see, a hobby that produces something tangible can be a great comfort.

7.) Get regular exercise.

Starting off the day with a brisk run or ending the workday with a few laps in the pool may not be every family’s idea of a great time, but these exercise sessions could deliver considerable benefits. Exercise has the proven ability to reduce stress and depression. In fact, a 2014 Stress in America survey found that around 43% of adults use exercise to cope with stress.

Stretching muscles and pushing tendons prompts the brain to release so-called pleasure chemicals, including dopamine and oxytocin. High-energy exercise sessions can help families vent their worry and stress in healthy ways that don’t harm others and don’t cause lasting scars. Instead of yelling, they can run. Instead of pacing, they can do yoga. It’s a wonderful way to stay on track with healing and it’s relatively easy to get started.

8.) Adhere to a formal sleep/wake schedule.

Some of the more dangerous addictive behaviors often occur in the middle of the night. People with addictions can meet dealers, overdose, stumble home from parties or get into other situations that family members have to deal with. It’s no surprise, then, that some families in the recovery process struggle with sleep. Parts of their brains are ready and waiting for the next night crisis to arise.

Regular sleep loss can make the recovery process more difficult. For example, people who slept only 4.5 hours per night for one week reported feeling higher levels of anger, stress, sadness and mental exhaustion. People need sleep to feel their best, and families can better assist with recovery when they are physically and mentally refreshed. Creating a regular sleep schedule with fixed bedtimes and wake times can help prime the brain for deep sleep.

9.) Schedule private therapy sessions.

While lifestyle alterations can be a big help for families in crisis, addictions can cause deep wounds that often benefit from seeking professional help. Research has found that families of addicted people experience increased levels of depression and anxiety. 

Caregivers can feel worn out from everything they’re asked to do for their addicted family member, and they may not have access to healthy coping skills that could help themselves. Siblings or children can feel forgotten or feel like they have to do better to make up for the addicted person, leading to self-esteem issues.

There’s no judgment or blame here — a private therapy session is a safe place for stressed family members to talk openly and work through issues.

Private sessions typically follow a skills-based format, in which caregivers learn more about how to deal with destructive thoughts and habits developed during years of addictive behavior. They might learn to meditate to handle stress or they might work on assertiveness skills. They might do group work involving anger management, or they might learn how to let go of codependent behaviors so they won’t feel responsible for the poor choices of others.

It takes time to go to personal therapy sessions, and there’s often homework to complete between sessions. However, this  time comes with a number of very real benefits. Family members who spend their time in these sessions may get the help they need in order to help others, and they may find the strength and resolve that’s been missing until now.

10.) Educate and advocate.

There is an incredible amount of misinformation about addiction. To some people, addiction is a form of weakness, and they have no problem sharing their views, even in casual conversation. To others, addiction is something family members should either fix or ignore. Even when a family attempts to help their loved one, they are sometimes judged or labeled as “enabling.”

Unfortunately, sometimes even the medical community can use language that promotes addiction stigma. Language matters: one study by the Recovery Research Institute found participants were more likely to see individuals as punishable, socially threatening and blameable when they were labeled “substance abusers” instead of “having a substance use disorder.”

Family members often feel harsh words or careless statements most acutely when they come from friends, co-workers and even distant relatives they see on a regular basis. It’s hard to stay positive in an environment like this, but families can be part of the change. Every time they hear a phrase like this, they can share the truth about addiction. They can share some of the knowledge they’ve learned from private research, support groups and therapy sessions and give their friends destigmatizing words to use instead.

Advocating on behalf of people struggling with addiction is brave. It’s also a vital, empowering and health-affirming thing to do. Rather than staying silent and fuming, families that speak up are doing something to make things better. Those conversations could not have a wonderful impact on a family’s spirits, but also positively impact their communities.

Help Is Available

Families living with addiction don’t have to walk the path to recovery alone. There are a number of excellent treatment facilities that provide support for both the addicted person and their family, including The Drug rehab Clarksville. Our treatment teams have built a set of programs geared towards families of patients, including family weekends which offer educational courses on addiction for family members.  while others can also offer group and individual counseling.

Support from family members and friends can be an integral part of a successful recovery. Friends and family members who stay informed and take care of their mental and physical health are better equipped to deal with addiction, support their loved ones and put their family on the path to lifelong recovery. Contact us today if you have questions about family resources, the recovery process or personalized treatment options for addiction that could work well for your loved one.

[imlisaok]

Elucien Meta: ‘Light’

PART 2

Barely any mention of Elain for a bit, but we’re back!

“Rhys gave her (Mor) a sharp look. But Elain said quietly, “The queen might come.” pg333

Okay, so we know Elain likely had a vision of this, but I’m curious if she somehow senses/knows that Lucien is the one to go retrieve her?

“Elain was staring at the unlit fireplace, eyes lost to that vague murkiness.” pg 334

The murkiness again! I swear, this is a reoccurring theme.

Then we have the seer reveal....

P.S. I’m adding it solely for the dramatics. Forgive me.

“We’re the ones who need. . .” Azriel trailed off. “A seer,” he said, more to himself than us. “The Cauldron made you a seer.” pg 334

The next part is oddly interesting; the original meeting had begun with Mor and Elain nestled on the couch together, but the way its written seems a bit suspicious.

“Elain was nestled beside a too-casual Mor on the sitting room couch when we arrived at the town house.” pg 332

And then when all is revealed...

“Elain turned to Mor, who was now gaping at my sister from her spot on the couch. “Is that what this is?”

(...)

“Mor’s gaze darted across my sister’s face, as if weighing the words, the question, the truth or lie within.

Mor at last blinked, mouth parting. Like that magic of hers had at last solved some puzzle. Slowly, clearly she nodded.” pg 335

I practically highlighted every single word in those sentences, and that’s because this is one of the only glimpses and demonstrations of Mor’s power we receive. It’s so little and yet it tells so much; now we’re aware Mor suspected Elain’s gift, which is interesting and seems to show that Mor/Azriel are just naturally like two sides of the same coin. Add Elain in there, and there’s a real understanding between all three of them. One sees truth; one sees things no one else can; one can see the future.

Let��s take it back to ACOMAF, when Feyre spoke about her sisters to Mor:

“I’d like my sisters to meet you. Maybe not today. But if you ever like it. . .”

Mor cocked her head.

I rubbed at the back of my bare neck. “I want them to hear your story. And know that there is a special strength. . .” As I spoke I realized I needed to hear it, know it, too. “A special strength in enduring such dark trials and hardships. . . And still remaining warm, and kind. Still willing to trust---and reach out.”

I think this sounds very similar to Elain. And I think what really separates Elucien from Elriel is that Azriel’s rage and anger hasn’t thawed. It’s understandable, considering all he’s lived through, but he needs to endure some personal growth before attempting a relationship---not just with Elain, but with anyone at all.

Lucien isn’t some perfect angel, either, but I think he’s very much suited for Elain and her current needs.

Azriel asked Elain, “There is another queen?”

Elain squinted, as if the question required some inner clarification, some. . . path into looking the right way at whatever had addled and plagued her. “Yes.” pg 336

Elain’s power is so interesting. On one hand, her visions come to her suddenly, and sometimes she has to work to sift through them to get what she wants.

“Azriel nodded. “You knew,” he said to Elain. “About the young queen turning into a crone.”

Elain blinked and blinked, eyes clearing up again. As if the understanding, our understanding. . . it freed her from whatever murky realm she’d been in.” pg 336

When Feyre puts it that way, it basically means that Lucien understands her. He gets her, and that frees her from ‘whatever murky realm’ she’s in. Honestly, this is similar to the mutual understanding of Feyre/Rhys.

“The sixth queen is alive?” Azriel asked, calm and steady, the voice of the High Lord’s spymaster, who had broken enemies and charmed allies.

Elain cocked her head, as if listening to some inner voice. “Yes”

Lucien just stared and stared at my sister, as if he’d never seen her before.” pg 336

Listen, I’d pay a million bucks to know what Lucien was thinking right then and there.

Also, is it just me or I have an inkling there was some sort of mating bond thingy that occurred? Lucien was hardly mentioned for a bit, and the sole focus of the scene was Elain and Azriel, and then we get Elain ‘listening to some inner voice’ and Lucien staring. I wonder if their powers extend to each other, and if Lucien can sometimes hear/sense what Elain is seeing? Rhys and Feyre practically feel everything the other is doing/feeling, so I’m assuming the same applies here? (Neither members of Elucien is damaeti, so I’m inclined to believe it’s obviously slightly different)

“Elain shifted her face towards Rhys. Another blink. “They sold her---to. . . to some darkness, to some. . . sorcerer-lord. . .” She shook her head. “I can never see him. What he is. There is an onyx box that he possesses, more vital than anything. . . save for them. The girls. He keeps other girls---others so like her---but she. . . By the day, she is one form, by night, human again.” pg 337

I faintly remember Rhys mentioning that if he doesn’t utilize his magic, it can easily drive him insane. I’m wondering if the same applies to Elain? Or if she physically can’t fight against an oncoming vision? Or if she tries to, but it never works? It would then make sense why Lucien was staring; maybe he was genuinely worried for her.

“Elain shook her head. “I don’t know. I hear her---her screaming. With rage. Utter rage. . .” She shuddered.” pg 337

I’m also curious as to how powerful these visions are? Obviously it’s affecting her physically, and she seems to be navigating through loads of information, so I’m wondering if it can ‘consume’ her, and if Lucien help keep her bound to the actual real world?

“Mor leaned forward. “Do you know why the other queens cursed her---sold her to him?”

Elain studied the table. “No. No---that is all mist and shadow.” pg 337

I’m guessing she’s losing grasp of the vision? I wonder what determines how long the vision is, and if interrupting/asking questions somehow shortens the length? So many questions...

“I’ll go.”

Lucien was staring at Elain as he spoke.” pg 338

Lucien is love, Lucien is life, okay? I rest my case.

“This eye. . .” Lucien gestured to the metal contraption. “It can see things that others. . . can’t. Spells, glamours. . . Perhaps it can help me find her. And break her curse.” He glanced at Elain, who was again studying her lap. “I’m not needed here. I’ll fight if you need me to, but. . .” He offered me a grim smile. “I do not belong in the Autumn Court. And I’m willing to bet I’m no longer welcome at h---the Spring Court.” Home, he had almost said. “But I cannot sit here and do nothing. Those queens with their armies---there is a threat in that regard, too. So use me. Send me. I will find Vassa, see if she can. . . bring help.” pg 339

Whew, that was a mouthful. Anyway, I feel like Lucien did volunteer because he genuinely wanted to help, but I think Elain had something to do with the decision---and not just because he wanted to ‘protect her’ or settle some distance between the both of them. He stared at her when he announced he’d go, stared at her when mentioned finding her and breaking a curse, and then...

“Elain now watched Lucien warily. Blinking every now and then. She revealed no hint of whatever she might seeing---sensing. None.” pg 339

She must know something important; either a) she’s aware that he will find Vassa, and is maybe even a bit worried, b) she knows he’ll meet Vassa, and might even be a bit jealous 3) she advised Lucien to go, for some reason, or 4) she senses an injury or something and freaks out for her mate. I might be forgetting other reasons, but it’s late and I’m tired so I’m plowing ahead anyway.

“He only glanced at Elain, whose face was again a calm void while she traced a finger over the embroidery on the couch cushions.” pg 340

Whatever thought disturbed her, it was somehow eased. Dude, I swear, this has too many mating bond secret exchanges for my hungry brain. I literally want to know why her mood changed so suddenly, why it was that when he glanced in her direction when he noticed her anxiety/nervous behavior through the bond (I assume), she acted as though she was fine, albeit still expressionless.

“Even Nesta seemed relatively concerned. Not for him, no doubt, but the fact that if he were hurt, or killed. . . What would it do to Elain?” pg 340

This is hardly relevant, but it still made me cackle. Feyre is just like “NOT FOR HIM, NO DOUBT” like, we get it, Nesta really dislikes Lucien. lol

“Alone with my sisters and Lucien, Rhys and I caught Nesta’s eye.

And for once, my sister rose to her feet and came toward us, the three of us not so subtly heading upstairs. Leaving Lucien and Elain alone.

It was an effort not to linger atop the landing, to listen to what was said.

If anything was said at all.” pg 340

There was definitely some sort of conversation. At least a farewell, but I think more.

“Before that dark wind swept in, Lucien looked back.

Not to me, I realized---to someone behind me.

Pale and thin, Elain stood atop the stairs.

Their gazes locked and held.” pg 345

He sensed her! She sensed he was leaving---I don’t believe she was notified of his departure---and she’d gone to say goodbye. (a second time, perhaps?) It makes my heart warm that she didn’t think their last conversation was enough of a goodbye, and she decided to show up before he left.

“But Elain said nothing. Did not so much as take one step downward.

Lucien inclined his head in a bow, the movement hiding the gleam in his eye---the longing and sadness.” pg 345

This moment of silence is so powerful; they’re staring at each other, together and yet so far apart.

Angst is the word you’re looking for, friends.

“And when Lucien turned to signal to Rhys to go. . . He did not glance back at Elain.

Did not see the half step she took toward the stairs---as if she’d speak to him. Stop him.

Then Rhys was gone, and Lucien with him.

When I turned to offer Elain breakfast, she’d already walked away.” pg 345

If he’d been there for a few moments longer, she would have asked him to stay. And once he’d left, she’d walked away and had not bothered to eat breakfast, which was one of Nesta’s concerns prior to Lucien going to the Night Court.

We’re never truly informed on how she copes with their distance---Amren had bursted in the Summer Court attack and then everybody had left except for Elain---and I can only imagine the effects ‘losing’ someone you seem to care for involuntarily.

This post got really long, really fast. I’m going to be doing a third part, so stay tuned. ;)

Thoughts?

​

[lotsofteaandcramming-blog]

WAYS TO MAKE AND SAVE MONEY AS A STUDENT PART 2 (HIGH SCHOOL AND COLLEGE) how to be your own boss as a teen

(this is part 2 to the first list I made on ways to make and save money as a student

I also just made a YouTube video on this topic so check that out here for more tips aside from this post: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SriRI_kY1pg&t=25s )

We all know that in order to be a successful student, you have to dedicate a lot of your time and energy to your studying (duh). On top of that, a lot of us have other commitments, such as sports or extracurricular activities. Pursuing and dedicating time to these things is actually just as important as pursuing good grades, especially when it comes to applying for universities and scholarships. And after all of these commitments, we realize that we want (or need) to do and have things that cost money.

I made a post on this just under a year ago and it’s my most popular post. I thought I would make an updated version with some more in depth tips and ideas that I’ve used.

HOW DO I MAKE MONEY WITHOUT GETTING A “REAL” JOB?

IF I HAVE A JOB ALREADY, HOW CAN I MAKE EXTRA MONEY ON THE SIDE?

Basically, if you want to earn money without getting a regular job (or on top of having a job) you can do one or more of these three things: 

1) become an entrepreneur of sorts

2) find jobs that take place at your school or campus (since you spend most of your time there, why not try to make it your “job”)

3) establish habits that will allow you to save the money you’re earning

quick side note: I would recommend getting a job, even if it’s over the summer or for a short period of time. Working for other businesses and people has taught me so much. Although the job itself can be demanding and maybe not even worth the money you’re making, the experience is always worthwhile. It also taught me how expensive things are when you have to support yourself (for example, if you need/want something that’s $60, that’s about 4-6 hours of work you have to put in, depending on what your job wage is).

HOW DO I BECOME AN ENTREPRENEUR?

this is the definition of entrepreneur that google gives you: a person who organizes and operates a business or businesses, taking on greater than normal financial risks in order to do so.

yes, it’s kind of a risk. what happens if you don’t have any clients for a while? what happens if you have more clients than you can handle? if you’re reading this right now, you’re probably willing to take the risk because a) you don’t have time to get a job (which demands a lot from you btw) or b) you have a job and that isn’t cutting it. below are some ideas for “businesses” that you can run yourself. (examples of businesses that are bolded are in high demand currently, from my experience and knowledge.)

1) teach things

if you’re patient, personable, good at teaching, and are willing to put yourself out there, use your talents to your advantage. you can teach kids, adults, or anyone in between, depending on what you prefer and cater to. below are some examples of teaching services you could provide:

- music lessons

- tutoring (I get more in depth with this in my YouTube video)

- art lessons

- coding/animation/web design

- software (i.e. imovie, adobe premier, microsoft word)

2) make things

- design websites for people and businesses

- design/make animations for businesses 

- open an etsy shop and make things 

- revamp old furniture and sell it

- flip books on websites like ebay (what is book flipping?)

- cook or bake

- grow plants

3) grow your social media (or someone else’s) 

4) sell your stuff

- clothes

- books

- decor

- jewellery/accessories

- old technology that can still be used

5) sit for your business 

- babysit

- pet sit

- house sit

- host “summer camps” where you babysit kids, plan some games and activities to do with them, and charge per day or week instead of every hour. I did this when I was in eighth grade (yes, you heard me right) and I made $1000 for one week. (I also talk about this in my video more in depth)

small note about being an entrepreneur: you have to put yourself out there. the hardest part about getting business doing any of these things is gaining momentum and getting clients who will eventually tell other people about your services. before this happens, you have to shamelessly self-promote. I’m talking flyers around your neighbourhood, knocking on doors, posting on social media, and making yourself known. that’s the main “risk” I mentioned above, which is using your precious time to promote yourself.

HOW DO I MAKE MONEY AT SCHOOL/ON CAMPUS?  

It’s harder to find gigs that pay money at school, but here’s the trick: you have to ask and show interest. Become friends with your counsellors and principals. Make it a priority to stop at bulletin boards and flyer hubs at your school that might be advertising jobs. below I’ve included some ways that I made money at school:

- tutoring

- score keeping: this may not be offered at every school, but at my high school students can get paid for scorekeeping sports games. it involves more than putting scores on a billboard, there’s also writing and stat-keeping involved. I got paid $15 per game, but again, I don’t know if other high schools do this. It never hurts to ask though! 

- coaching: a lot of community programs and schools are in need of peer coaches for younger kids. 

- refereeing: same as coaching, except you’re refereeing sports games. 

- trade programs: in a lot of regions, certain jobs or trades are in high demand. in order to get young people interested in pursuing these jobs as careers, trade programs and companies are offering to pay students to volunteer or work in these areas over the summer. all they require is a certain amount of hours and written proof that you worked or volunteered. I had friends who got hired in a “trade” job such as roofing, horticulture, etc. for their summer job and got an extra $1000 on top of being paid their normal wage, just because of these career programs. 

all of these job ideas are suggestions and might not be offered or needed where you go to school. the main point I want to get across is to talk to your counsellors and get involved in activities at your school. 

HOW DO I SAVE MY MONEY?

- stop buying starbucks everyday! that $5 tea or coffee adds up (if you buy a coffee/tea every school day: 5 days x $5 = $25 a week being spent on drinks). learn how to make your own drinks that are the equivalent to the drinks you buy at starbucks, and you’ll be saving a lot of money.

- know which method of payment enables you to spend more money. if it helps to know what you’re spending, avoid using your debit card. for me, I hate having cash because I want to spend it wherever I go. If I bring my debit card, I make sure I only put the money I will need in my account, so I don’t overspend. 

- try challenging yourself to save cash for a month. a popular challenge right now is the $5 challenge, where you save every $5 bill you get for a month up to one year. 

- pack your lunches and snacks. avoid spending money at your school cafeteria/restaurants as much as you can. I will even plan my lunches and snacks every sunday for each week, so I don’t have any excuse to not make my lunch the night before. 

- shop and eat out at places that have customer rewards systems/credit. if you’re gonna spend money, you might as well save some because of it. 

- become a couponer cause why not. 

What are some ways you make or save your money?

[beechwrench4-blog]

40 small ways to make Philly a better place

Note: This story was last published in January, 2018. We’ve updated it with all the most recent developments and changes.

In the midst of February and this dismal weather, it can be hard to push yourself to leave the house, much less do some charity work. But giving back (even a little) to your community can actually make this winter feel a little brighter.

Plus, it doesn’t take much. From small opportunities—like donating a little money and making sure to pick up and throw away your trash—to bigger ones—like packing and delivering food to those in need—there are chances for everyone to give a little back to their city this winter. Get started with our guide to all the small things you can do to make Philly a better place:

From your home

1. Green your home: There are plenty of simple ways to live a more sustainable life, but if you want to take it a step further, see if your home qualifies for one of the city’s RainCheck green tools, whether that’s stormwater paving, a rain garden, or a rain barrel. There’s a simple quiz you can take, and if your home qualifies for a green improvement you can sign up for a cost-sharing program to help cut back on costs.

2. Call your legislators. Have a suggestion or something else to say to the folks representing you in government? Give them a ring and speak up. It’s the quickest way to make your voice heard and hold your elected officials accountable. Here’s a full list of the elected officials in Philadelphia county on a city and state level.

3. Donate money. If you have the means to do so, donate to one cause (or more!) that really resonates with you. One easy way to put your hard-earned dollars toward a good cause is to sign up for AmazonSmiles. Amazon will donate 0.5 percent of all of your eligible purchases to the charity of your choice. You’ll be supporting a good cause with one click.

4. Plant a tree. Each fall and spring season the TreePhilly program hosts events where you can pick up a free tree to plant in your yard. It started back in 2012 as a way to make sure that every Philly neighborhood has at least 30 percent tree canopy coverage. If you want to go beyond your yard, you can pay to sponsor a tree in Center City and your donation will be matched by local residents.

5. Recycle. Hands down one of the easiest ways to do good is to recycle. Even better, the city has a ton of pick-up locations where you can snag one of those free blue recycling bins. And here’s a helpful list of what you can and can’t recycle.

6. Give your furniture to ReStore. Replacing your couch? Don’t just dump it on the sidewalk. Haul it over to ReStore on Washington Avenue. It’s an arm of Habitat for Humanity, and all of the proceeds go toward building homes in Philadelphia.

7. Donate your clothes. Your hand-me-down could be another’s treasure. Instead of tossing your unwanted clothes, donate them to a local thrift store. The nonprofit Philly AIDS Thrift accepts clothes, home goods, and furniture and sells it at a discounted rate, then donates proceeds to local organizations that support the fight against HIV/AIDS. Nonprofit Second Mile Center in West Philly also accepts clothes and home goods, and offers a re-entry employment program for people who have spent time in prison or in rehab.

8. Learn about the city. Like all cities and towns, Philly has a long and complicated history. Learning all about it can provide an understanding of why certain things are the way they are in this wonderfully weird city. Here’s a list of some books to check out. Or, explore the city by foot: There are a lot of great walking tours that show off the city’s architecture and hidden histories.

In your neighborhood

9. Sign up for neighborhood committee: If you really want to have a hands-on role in your neighborhood, join your neighborhood organization or registered community organization. They all have different committees, from zoning to beautification, so you can join the one you feel most passionate about.

10. Clean up your neighborhood park. Every year, twice a year, the Parks and Rec department and Fairmount Park Conservancy host Love Your Park, a week-long event that includes a long list of opportunities to clean up Philly’s parks, and the next event is in May. But you don’t have to do it just once a year—there’s always the option to organize a cleanup with your neighbors or DIY.

11. Throw a block party. What’s Philly without its block parties? And what better way to get to know your neighbors than over some burgers and beer? Apply online for a block party permit: It’s $25 for a weekend day or $150 for a weekday.

12. Attend neighborhood meetings. If you can’t commit to joining a neighborhood committee (#9), then make sure to show up to their organized meetings. It’s a good chance to make your voice heard about the goings on in your neighborhood, whether it’s over a new development or park.

13. Start a free library. Knowledge is power, people! To spread the word, look into setting up an adorable Little Free Library in your neighborhood. It’ll function as a free book exchange with anyone and everyone. To find out more and see where else you’ll find these libraries in Philly, check out this map.

14. Get to know your committee person... A committee person is like a political block captain and is the political party’s representative to your voting division. Says Sarah Clark Stuart, executive director of the Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia, “Get to know your committee person or ward leader, present them with the problem you are seeking to address and see if they are willing to join you in asking your District Council person to ask city agencies to resolve the issue.”

15. ...or run for committee person. “One great way to help your community in an ongoing way is to run for a committee person seat in your neighborhood,” says Jon Geeting, director of engagement for Philadelphia 3.0. “These elections are happening this year, and you only need to get 10 valid signatures from registered party members to get on the ballot between February 13 and March 6.” Sign up here.

16. Don’t be a litter bug: In case you haven’t noticed, Philly has a litter problem. Help the city reach its goal of being litter-free by 2035 and please, put your trash in the trash.

17. Turn that lot into a garden. Is there a vacant lot in your neighborhood that’s just sitting there? Fight blight by turning it into a community garden. You can donate to the Philadelphia Horticulture Society’s Adopt-a-Lot cause, starting as low as $25.

Along your route

18. Ride a bike. Forgo the four wheels every once in awhile and hop on a bike instead: It’s a great way to explore Philly, it’s healthy, and good for the environment. First-timer? The Bicycle Coalition of Greater Philadelphia offers an Urban Riding Basics class that teaches the basic rules of the road and what your rights and responsibilities are as a cyclist.

19. Follow the rules of the road. If you ever thought that cyclists or drivers don’t follow traffic laws, you were right: Last year, a study found that they both violate the rules of the road at about the same rate. Whether you get around by bike, car, or by foot, set a good example and abide by the laws of the road.

20. Take public transportation. As the fifth most walkable city in the U.S., there’s perhaps no better way to explore Philadelphia than by foot. But Philly is a big place with a lot to see, so if you really want to get from point A to B quickly without getting stuck in traffic, take the trolley or subway. And hey, it’ll take one more car off the road. We have some suggestions on the best public transportation routes to take to really get to know the city.

21. Lend a hand. There are many ways and causes to consider to help Philly’s homeless population. But if you see someone in need on your route, there’s a quick way to help out: Text “Share” to 80077 to make a $5 donation to help the homeless. The City of Philadelphia will then match your donation dollar for dollar—all of the funds raised will be invested in housing, jobs, and other services for the homeless. The Center City District Foundation is also holding outreach programs for the homeless, and they could always use donations to further their work.

22. See something? Say something. Download the 311 app and report any issues you see that need fixing—potholes, sinkholes, signs down, et cetera.

Photo by J. Fusco for Visit Philadelphia

In your community

23. Commit to serve. Join Philly’s #CommitToServe campaign, which has a goal of getting Philadelphians to log 100,000 hours of volunteer service in 2018. Go to www.serve.phila.gov and to tell the city how many hours you plan to serve in the coming year.

Photo by C. Smyth for VISIT PHILADELPHIA

24. Support small and local businesses. Sure, online shopping is quick and convenient. But it’s the city’s important mom-and-pop shops that keep Philly flavor alive. Keep patronizing them so that they can stick around for the long haul.

25. Shop and sell at your farmers market. Kill two birds with one stone here: Organizations like the Food Trust encourage accessible, affordable, and healthy eating all around Philly and let volunteers lend a hand at their local farmers market. When you’re finished helping out, buy some local, healthy produce on your way out to support both local businesses.

26. Paint a mural. Philly is nothing without its thousands of murals. But the artists need all the help they can get to paint and install their gargantuan works of art onto Philly’s walls. Mural Arts, the largest program of its kind in the country, hosts painting days throughout the year, where you can add your creative touch to the city’s many murals.

Photo by Melissa Romero

27. Show some love to animals. There are plenty of animal shelters in Philly where you can volunteer, including Morris Animal Refuge, the oldest animal shelter in the nation, and PAWS, which hosts plenty of adoption events that also need help. But you can also do more than feed and pet the fluff balls: PAWS partners with Monster Milers, a running organization that lets you take dogs out for runs throughout the city.

28. Distribute food for those in need There are a lot of families and individuals all over the city in need of food and a little assistance, and the Jewish Relief Agency is here to help. Every month they call on volunteers to help pack boxes full of food and deliver them around the city. Sign up here, and bring a group if you want.

29. Design for good. Got design chops? There are plenty of nonprofits and organizations that need your eye for design—at a discounted rate. The Community Design Collaborative is always looking for design professionals to volunteer their services all while giving back to the community.

30. Support public spaces. Link up with Parks and Recreation, the Free Library, or their non-profit partners like the Fairmount Park Conservancy or the Philadelphia Parks Alliance.

Photo by Jeffrey Totaro

31. Preserve Philly’s history. Did you know? Philly is the only “World Heritage City” in the U.S. and the only one whose neighborhoods have been designated a “National Treasure” by the National Trust for Historic Preservation. So yeah, our historic fabric is important. But while there are a lot of preservationists out there working to save Philly’s history, it takes a lot of resources to do so. To help out, you can donate to organizations like the Preservation Alliance for Greater Philadelphia, or dip your toes into the preservation world yourself. Here’s a beginner’s guide.

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32. Preserve and grow. If you’re really looking to take on an unusual challenge, join the Grave Gardeners at Woodlands Cemetery in West Philly. Grave gardeners adopt a “cradle grave” at the historic cemetery and plant Victorian-era species, tending to the plot for the year. It’s a unique way to uncover (not literally) the many layers of history around the Woodlands. Sign ups began in January so you’ll have a better chance of getting on the list of volunteers if you sign up now.

33. Become a reading coach for Philly’s youth. Calling all book lovers! Philly’s on a mission to have all of its children reading at grade level by 4th grade. To make sure that happens, volunteer as a reading coach and sign up for one-on-one sessions.

34. Support diversity. Philadelphia is growing, in large part due the city’s blossoming immigrant population. And they’ve also made a huge economic impact in the city: From 2000 to 2013, immigrants were responsible for 96 percent of the Main Street neighborhood business growth. There are many ways to support Philadelphians of all backgrounds, including teaching English and donating or volunteering for one of the many organizations that help Philly’s immigrants and refugees.

35. Make a meal for others. A good meal goes a long way, and there are plenty of soup kitchens and organizations where you can provide food for the homeless. At Project HOME, you can sign up to both cook up and serve meals at various locations.

Courtesy of Tupungato/Shutterstock.com

36. Keep Philly’s water clean. William Penn couldn’t have picked a more beautiful spot to put down roots in Philadelphia, sandwiched between the Delaware River and the Schuylkill. But it takes a lot to keep those waters clean—even the way you manage stormwater at home can trickle down to the rivers. To do your part, consider supporting the organizations that have signed on to the Delaware River Watershed Initiative, or all of the partners working to keep the Schuylkill clean.

37. Become a foster grandparent. Sometimes all a kid needs is some extra love and attention. The Foster Grandparent Program provides a way for low-income adults ages 55 and older to serve as an extended family member for a child with special needs.

38. Support Philly’s schools. Whether you are a parent or not, supporting Philly’s public schools is a supporting Philly’s future. But every school has different challenges and needs. To make it easier to help out, the School District of Philadelphia launched an interactive map called Philly FUNDamentals that lets you donate directly to a school or project of your choice.

39. Support an urban farm. Greensgrow always gets a lot of love, but there are a bunch of urban farms big and small that would love for you to lend a hand. Even better: Many of them started out as abandoned, vacant lots until neighbors banded together to beautify the space.

40. Vote. Especially in your local elections. It’s your civic duty!

Source: https://philly.curbed.com/2018/1/12/16867882/get-involved-local-politics-volunteer-philadelphia

[terreisa]

The Savior and The Scoundrel: A Dream is A Wish

Emma has had a few titles attributed to her in her life: princess, captain, pirate but none sat so heavily on her shoulders as Savior. When fate forces her to step into the role prophesied before her birth the only saving she wants to do is to bring back the man she loves. Fulfilling the Prophecy along the way is an additional reward. Sequel to A Crown and A Captain.

Prologue, Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5

ff.net, AO3

Emma closed her eyes and leaned back.  The rough bark of the tree dug into her shoulders but she felt no need to adjust herself to become more comfortable.  The murmur of conversations and the heavy tread of boots over stone almost had her convinced that all was right in her kingdom.  She had found as the summer months had passed that escaping the confines of the castle to the gardens was her only respite from the madness that had enveloped them since Liam had warned them about King George’s plans.  Snow had seemed to understand her need for escape and had allowed her to spend her evenings in the garden without interruption.

Liam had only remained with them for two weeks, strategizing against George and sharing any information he thought might be helpful in the search for the missing people of Misthaven.  While he hadn’t continued to be openly hostile with Emma he had treated her with cold indifference.  He had only spoken to her directly during the meetings they’d had to plan and prepare for her grandfather’s attempts on the kingdom.  When he had left it had been a relief, even with his promise to return as soon as it was feasible.  Much to Emma’s displeasure Liam had instructed Turner to remain behind, along with half of the men he had initially arrived with.  She knew that Turner most likely had a second set of orders to spy on her and she tried her hardest to avoid him as much as she could.

Not long after Liam’s departure they began to receive a steady stream of support from other kingdoms.  Specifically the ones who had sent representatives before when they had taken over Regina’s palace.  When the first men had arrived they had been marching under the golden flag of Queen Abigail’s kingdom, Phrygia,and Emma hadn’t thought much of it.  Snow had been corresponding with her continually since their arrival back in Misthaven and Emma had sent a glittering bird of her own detailing George’s intentions.  It had made sense that Queen Abigail had sent assistance, Phrygia had been an ally of Misthaven’s for centuries but after her father and Abigail had absolved their arranged engagement to be with their True Loves the kingdoms had become even closer aligned due to the threat George posed.  What had taken Emma by surprise was the subsequent arrival of men and women from the kingdoms of Darmancourt, Langelinie, and Glowerhaven.

The continued show of support from King Thomas and Princess Ella, Queen Ariel and King Eric, and what she suspected was due more to Liam’s fiancee Princess Margaret than her father King Edwin had meant more to Emma than when they had sent their people to stand by her before.  They too had been swept up by the curse and the guilt of their disappearances weighed upon Emma’s shoulders along with the many others.  Each one of the kingdoms had sent along a letter, clearly unaware of the other kingdoms’ similar intentions but eerily similar in tone, that practically absolved her of any of the blame for the disappearances and officially offered their support and their armies against King George.  She had felt unworthy of their forgiveness and their willingness to help her and it had taken more than one emotional conversation with Snow to even somewhat convince her otherwise.

Along with the number of bodies provided by the other kingdoms Elsa had sent troops of her own and Liam had sent a contingent ahead of his return.  In all there were more than three hundred men and women ready to defend Misthaven.  As overwhelming as it was to see them rebuilding and fortifying the castle or returning from the re-established and cleaned up port village Emma knew that George’s army had double or even triple their numbers.  It was a reminder of that very fact that had driven her to the garden to try and quell the panic that had been constantly sitting beneath her breastbone.

Not helping matters were the constant reasons given for why she couldn’t make the journey to the beanstalk.  All she needed to hear was a single word of approval and she could be halfway there before anyone noticed her absence.  Her pack had remained inside the door of her room, ready to go at a moment’s notice.  She hadn’t even taken the time to return the cuff to its hiding place, unwilling to spare even a few seconds to go digging for it once she was given permission to leave.  Yet the days had bled into weeks and then to months and she was still frustratingly confined to the castle.

For all her misery Snow was the only one that seemed to take any notice.  Belle and Will had been travelling back and forth between the castle and Regina’s palace as much as to coordinate with the people there as to keep Emma and Will from eviscerating each other with their words.  Grace had been away from the castle nearly as much as Belle and Will.  She had taken it upon herself to head the rebuilding of the port village.  Emma suspected it was a distraction as well as a way to be among the first to hear the latest updates when they arrived.  She envied Grace’s ability to have distractions from her troubles, especially when seemingly everyone around her remained unaware of her own unhappiness.

Smiling to herself she thought about how Roland had appointed himself as her personal steward.  He had taken to following her around, trying to anticipate her needs or even more annoyingly her thoughts before she had a chance to formulate them. It had been irksome at first but she had quickly realized the cause of his behavior after she had caught him hovering around the Balliolshire contingent more than once.  Emma suspected Roland wanted to impress them proving he was just as good as them.  She only wished he had chosen someone less fastidious than Turner to prove himself to, even if she knew Roland wanted to impress him on a much more personal level.

“It’s good to see you smiling, especially during these uncertain times.”

Emma opened her eyes, squinting against the late afternoon sun.  Snow was standing over her, a small smile of her own gracing her lips.

“I’m not sure what to hope for more: that Grandfather finally makes a move or we discover where to find a bean to take us away from here.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Snow sighed. “I know how incredibly difficult this has been but-”

“But the prophecy.  I know, I know,” Emma said wearily.

Snow appeared to have no response.  Emma felt bad for voicing her frustrations but she had remained silent through the summer.  She wasn’t surprised, therefore, when Snow sat down beside her and made herself comfortable.

“But,” Snow continued undeterred, “I don’t know which one I prefer either, honestly.  We can’t seem to hold onto any luck can we?”

“Bad luck, maybe,” Emma said with a humorless laugh.

“Maybe,” Snow hummed, “It does feel like the odds are stacked against us.  Then I see the people willing to defend Misthaven despite having no loyalty to us and I look at how determined you are and I know that in the end we will succeed.”

“I wish I had your confidence.”

Her mother fixed her with a determined look, “Do you doubt that you’ll find Killian?”

“No,” she whispered quietly, shying away from the thought of never finding him.

“What about your father?  Red? Pinocchio?”

“I’ll find them, I have to,” she said, setting her jaw.

“Because of a prophecy said you would?”

That brought Emma up short.  She had entwined her supposed destiny and the fate of those taken by Zelena’s curse so completely she had all but convinced herself that the odds she was facing were insurmountable.

“No, I’ll find them because they’re our family, our loved ones, our people.  They should be here, with us, free from Zelena’s curse.”

“See, you have just as much confidence as me,” Snow nudged her with her shoulder. “That’s why I came out here actually.”

“To give me a pep talk?” Emma nudged her mother back.

“Partially-” Snow smiled gently and took her hand, “but also to let you know that I think it’s high time that you visit Anton.”

“What?  Really?” Emma twisted herself to face her mother more fully.

“Yes.  I know you’ve been frustrated waiting-”

“But what about Grandfather?”

“Even if he finally mobilizes he has to make it through Phrygia and her defenses before reaching Misthaven.  We finally have enough men and women here that the absence of three people won’t be a drastic loss.”

“Three?” Emma raised her brow.

“I’ll only allow you to go if you take Roland and Grace with you,” Snow said with a stern look.

Emma had anticipated that Roland would join her.  When he wasn’t rhapsodizing over the forces gathered he had been trying to convince her to allow him to go to the beanstalk with her.  He hadn’t pressed about accompanying her to the top but she knew he wouldn’t hesitate at the opportunity.  Grace on the other hand had only showing passing interest in the beanstalk and the compass that they hoped remained amongst Anton’s treasures.  She had instead focused her time and energy trying to discern where they might procure a magic bean.  To learn that she would join her and Roland to the beanstalk was surprising.

“Grace?  Really?  Did she volunteer or did you order her?”

“She volunteered after I strongly suggested that she go,” Snow answered primly.

“Why though?  They can’t make the climb with me and if anything happens it only takes one person to come back here to inform you.”

“I could have ordered a whole flank to accompany you,” Snow said with a disapproving frown.  She paused before continuing, “Grace is starting to become restless again.  The only news coming into port concerns your grandfather and his movements or the other kingdom’s preparations to stop him.”

“She’s not threatening to leave us again, is she?” Emma asked, not masking her annoyance.

“Not quite, as of yet, but the look in her eyes matches the one I’ve seen in yours.”

“Look?  What look?” She blinked, confused.

“One of longing, impatience, of worry,” Snow squeezed her hand. “I know it well, I see it in the mirror every morning.”

“Mom,” Emma whispered, pained.  She couldn’t think of anything more to say because she knew it was true.  She decided to try anyway, “I’m-”

“Don’t say you’re sorry.  Never apologize for how you feel, sweetheart, especially when you feel as strongly as you do.  It will make you a better queen, despite the less enlightened male members of the council arguing otherwise,” Snow said flatly, a steel glint in her eye and her chin held high. “There will always be people, whether they express their opinions out loud or not, that will question your abilities to rule because you’re a woman.  I know you’ve had your fair share of doubters as a captain but it is nothing compared to what you will face as Queen.  We have to face hardships and trials unlike the ones our male counterparts do and we have to succeed far beyond their lower expectations.  That is why I’m sending you to the beanstalk, even with your grandfather’s threats hanging over our kingdom.  There is more than one battle we must win.”

Emma collapsed back against the tree and stared unseeing out over the garden.  She hated thinking of herself as the future queen of Misthaven, almost as much as she loathed dwelling on being the Savior.  Snow had been carefully making comments and urging her to attend meetings with the colonels of the different troops that had arrived in a less than subtle attempt to set her on the path to rule.  While she had bore them with grace she had filled more than one page of complaints about it in the letters she was still writing to Killian.  Like the prophecy, the Crown was something she couldn’t seem to escape.

“I should have left of my own volition.  At the very least I could have avoided the disappointed looks Turner gives me when he remembers that I’m the next in line for the throne,” Emma joked weakly, knowing it wasn’t a joke at all.

“Turner would do well to remember that Liam instructed him to follow my orders, whatever they may be.  Just say the word and I’ll have him mucking out the stalls, alone, until Liam returns,” Snow patted the hand that was still clasped in hers.  After a short moment she let out a shaky breath, “Thank you for not slipping away on your own, sweetheart.  It’s been enough of a trial to remember how to be a Queen again, I don’t think I could have handled your disappearance as well.”

Emma found herself speechless once more.  She tended to forget that it had been mere months since she had rescued her mother from her isolated island and over a decade since Snow had been a true ruler.  The sudden thrust pushing them both back into positions of power had Emma wanting to tear her hair out.  She hadn’t even considered the pressures that must have been pressing down upon Snow.

The truth was she had thought of absconding to the beanstalk more often than not.  Whether her plans involved sneaking out in the dead of night or brazenly striding across the bridge under the midday sun she had yearned for the wherewithal to do it.  The only thing that had stopped her was the thought of facing her mother’s disappointment when she would have returned.  She hadn’t spared a thought to the turmoil Snow would have experienced while she was gone.

“Will you leave tonight or wait until morning?” Snow asked in a clear effort to not sound upset.

“Tonight-” Emma paused, considering.  As eager as she was to be underway she knew that Grace and Roland would need a little more time to prepare, “-but tomorrow morning will give us time to be better prepared. Have you told Roland?”

“No and I only informed Grace that she’s to accompany you, not that you’ll be leaving straight away.  I’m sure she’ll seek you out quickly, though.”

Nodding Emma stood and stretched.  She grimaced as she remembered how tortuous the climb would be.  Pushing away the sobering thought of the exhaustion she would be facing at the end of the next day she offered a hand to help her mother up.  Snow accepted with a grateful smile, surprising Emma with how much her mother actually needed her help to leverage herself up.  Before Emma could dwell upon it Snow was already heading into the castle with all the regal bearing she had possessed when both of them were a decade younger.

True to Snow’s prediction Grace found Emma almost as soon as she stepped foot in the castle.  Grace seemed neither eager nor reluctant to leave, fixing Emma with an indifferent gaze as she listened to the plan for the morning. She agreed to be ready to leave before dawn with a nod and left Emma wondering if anyone, even the lowliest of soldiers, would have shown more enthusiasm in joining her.

She shook off the thought and quickly went to find Roland.  Eventually she found him sitting in a secluded alcove in the library.  There were too many soldiers lingering nearby for her to speak more plainly surrounded so she had to carefully choose her words to inform him of when and where to meet..  It was a relief that he immediately understood what she was alluding to when she pointedly mentioned her cravings for the extra large cinnamon pastries that the castle cooks used to make starting long before the sun had peeked over the horizon.  Roland smirked and winked as he teased her about making them for herself if she was so desperate.  No one around them seemed to pay them any mind as Emma scoffed at his suggestion and nodded in return before taking her leave.

The castle was crawling with people and she returned to her room not long after leaving the library, not wanting to be around so many strangers and also not wanting to tip anyone off that she was leaving in mere hours.  Pacing the length of her room she realized she was too keyed up to sleep and knew that the only thing that could calm her down would be to write Killian a letter.  It wouldn’t make her any more ready, or willing, to rest but it would go a long way towards settling her mind.  The ink from her greeting to him had barely had a chance to dry before someone knocked on her door.

“Yes?” Emma carefully pushed away the journal that held her letters to Killian before looking towards her visitor.

It was a surprise to see that Belle was the one standing tentatively in her doorway.  She had expected to see her mother or Roland waiting for her to invite them in.  Emma wondered for a moment if Belle had come to speak to her about Will before noticing that she had something in her hand.

“I wasn’t sure when you were leaving-” Belle took a small step further into the room, “May I come in?”

“Of course!  Did Mom tell you?” Emma asked as she stood quickly and led Belle to the small sitting area by her fireplace.

“No, no.  I was walking by Roland’s room and saw him packing.  I figured it meant that you were finally going to the beanstalk.”

“We are, Grace as well,” Emma smiled knowingly at Belle’s widened eyes. “I was surprised too.  I don’t think she’s been away from the harbor for more than a day or two.”

“She’s been separated from her children for a long time.  I’d be just as desperate to hear any word that there was a way to see my children again,” Belle said sympathetically, staring into the unlit hearth.

Emma felt a hot rush of guilt.  She had never asked if Belle and Will had children and was afraid of the answer to the question she had to ask, “Did the curse take your children too?”

“Oh, no,” Belle said, quickly reassuring her with an understanding look and a pat on her knee. “Our daughter lives with her husband and her little ones in one of the villages at the edge of Sherwood Forest and our son is with the others at the Evil Queen’s palace.  He’s only sixteen but eager to help.”

“I, uh, didn’t know,” Emma said somewhat uncomfortably.

“Will and I made the decision a long time ago to not mention our children to anyone who wasn’t a part of the Merry Men.  We both have people from our past who would have felt no compunction in hurting them in order to get to us,” Belle explained with a gentle smile. “That’s not to say we don’t trust you or your mother.  There were people who had been in our camp for years that didn’t know we had children.  It’s merely become a habit we’re uncomfortable with breaking, even now that one child is grown with children of her own and the other is on the cusp of manhood.”

“I get it,” Emma returned Belle’s smile briefly. “I’ve spent so long hiding who I truly was that I find it hard to introduce myself as Emma instead of Swan.  Even responding to my own name is a challenge, since I trained myself a long time ago to never react in any way to it being called out.  But your children have grown up in relative peace because of your caution, right?”

“They have,” Belle agreed.  Then she shook her head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to waste your time talking about my family.”

“I’ve been packed for weeks,” Emma said, waving off Belle’s apology. “You’re doing me a favor, really, taking my mind off what’s to come and all that.”

“That’s why I’m here actually,” Belle said, fiddling with the object in her hands that Emma had noticed earlier. “This is for your giant friend.  A gift for him allowing us to borrow the compass.”

Belle handed it over and Emma was caught off guard by its weight and by the soft, slippery fabric it was wrapped in.  Grasping it more firmly she moved it to her lap to carefully unwrap it.  She was slightly surprised to see her face looking back up at her before she realized that it was a large hand mirror with ornate filigree along the frame and down the handle.  Turning it over she marvelled at the beauty and intricate designs of the metalwork but more so by the tingling warmth that crawled down her hands and down her arms the longer she held it.  She flipped it back over and stared hard at her reflection.

“It’s enchanted,” Belle’s voice said from seemingly far away.  Emma tore her eyes away from the mirror’s surface reluctantly to look at Belle, “I’ve had it for a long time but had no use for it.  It will be much better off with the giant than with me.”

“What does it do?” Emma asked quietly looking back at it curiously as her fingers tightened around the handle.

Belle seemed to hesitate before answering, causing Emma to look back at her sharply.  Her lips were twisted into a frown and she said reluctantly, “It shows whoever is holding the mirror anything they wish to see. But Emma-”

Emma couldn’t hear Belle over the sudden pounding of her heart.  She brought the mirror up to her face with an unsteady hand, “Killian.  Please, please show me Killian!”

The surface of the mirror rippled, as though a pebble had been cast into calm waters.  Emma hardly breathed as the gentle waves continued for one minute and then two.  When they cleared she found she was seemingly looking at nothing.  Not even her frantic reflection peered back at her.  She could barely make out what look liked dark, roiling clouds before she could stand to look at it any more.  Belle gently pried the mirror from her hands as she fought against the sobs of gaining and losing the chance of seeing Killian again in the span of what felt like a single beat of her heart.

“It was one of the first things I tried when I remembered I had this mirror,” Belle whispered sadly.  Emma tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling as Belle continued, “At first I thought it was Zelena’s spell that stopped the mirror from working properly, some kind of protection against finding them but it’s not.  I tried to see other realms: Oz, Neverland, Wonderland and each time just that swirling darkness and yet I was able to see everything I asked to see from this realm, even the giant atop his beanstalk.  The mirror’s magic only seems to work here.”

“Which makes it the perfect gift for Anton,” Emma said dully, sounding as though her nose was packed with cotton.

“Emma, I swear I would have given it to you if it had shown even a tiny glimpse of the people Zelena had taken.”

“I know,” Emma sighed and brought her gaze back down to Belle, “Thank you, I’m sure Anton will appreciate it.  Um, is it okay if-”

“Of course,” Belle said graciously and stood.  She handed the mirror back, gently placing her hand over Emma’s when she took it, “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Emma said with more sincerity.  A thought occurred to her, “Belle?”

“Yes?”

“Where did you get the mirror?”

Emma watched in fascination as something passed over Belle’s face.  Clearly the memory wasn’t a pleasant one or one that Belle seemed eager to share.

“Someone gave it to me.  I thought it was because he cared for me.  I was wrong.”

Belle gave her a brittle, fleeting smile and hurried from the room.

After Belle left Emma tried to gather herself enough to write any kind of letter for Killian.  Despite rewrapping the mirror she felt as though it was taunting her.  She shoved it deep into her pack to get it out of her sight but it stuck in her mind like a burr.  It was another hour before she forced herself to write a single line telling him that she was finally on her way to the beanstalk.  She didn’t exactly slam the journal shut in her frustration but it was a close thing.

As she readied herself for bed she tried not to be tempted by the mirror.  She nearly succeeded until she blew out the last candle.  The ethereal light of the nearly full moon proved to be too much and she found herself hastily unearthing the mirror, throwing her pack’s contents pell mell around her.  She ripped the cloth off the mirror and gasped Killian’s name into it.  The sobs she had held back earlier returned in full force when nothing but the swirling black clouds answered her plea.

What sleep she got that night was restless and uneasy.

Emma found herself in the kitchens long before she was meant to meet Grace and Roland.  When they joined her neither looked surprised to see her already up and wisely didn’t inquire about how long she had been awake.  Without a word she handed Roland the sack of food she’d gathered and led them up through the castle.  No one else was awake to see them go.  Emma breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped into the cool, predawn air without alerting a single person.

Their trek to the beanstalk was, for the most part, quiet.  Grace and Roland both had questions once they lost sight of the castle but after Emma’s fourth or fifth time giving monosyllabic answers they ceased asking.  She knew she was being unfair and somewhat unkind but her sleepless night was beginning to take its toll.  Her energy needed to sustain her to at least get her to the top of the beanstalk and she wasn’t about to waste it on talking.

They saw the beanstalk stretching into the sky long before they were close enough to see its base.  Like the first time Emma had seen it Grace gasped in awe.  Roland let out a low whistle at her side, eyes trailing upwards.  In an unspoken agreement they quickened their pace.  She knew, and suspected the others did too, that it would be hours before they would be within spitting distance but even the far off glimpse had galvanized her.

A little more than an hour past midday they crested the final hill that led to the valley that the beanstalk grew in.  There weren’t many people outside of those who lived in the valley that knew of the beanstalk’s existence.  When Blue had enchanted the cuffs to counteract the protective magic of the giants she had instilled another form of protection on the valley to keep the curious at bay.  Unless a person already knew of the beanstalk’s existence they would never see it looming over the valley, even if they stood in its shadow.  The increased guarantee that he wouldn’t be caught off guard by those who might have meant him harm was one of the key reasons Anton had finally agreed to the treaty Emma and her father had presented to him.

“Should we rest here?” Grace asked without taking her eyes off the beanstalk.

“No, we keep going,” Emma said, starting down the hill.

She could practically hear Roland’s eyes rolling but he wisely made no protest.  The sound of them following didn’t reach her until she was almost halfway down the hill.  Huffing in annoyance she kept her pace, knowing full well they were withholding their lectures until they reached the beanstalk’s base.

When she reached it she quickly checked over her shoulder to make sure Roland and Grace were still a ways off.  Satisfied they were she quickly slung her pack off her shoulder and knelt down to dig through it for the cuff.  Her fingers closed around it the moment Roland cleared his throat behind her.

“You can save your breath,” she grumbled as she slipped the cuff over her wrist before pulling her hands from the pack. “I’m climbing now and it’s impossible for either of you to come with me.”

“Emma, you were dead on your feet even before we left the castle.  You’re in no shape to be making that climb today.  Wait until tomorrow, eat a proper meal or two, get some sleep tonight, and then you won’t run the risk of falling off that thing halfway up!” Roland pleaded with her, waving his arm emphatically at the beanstalk towering over them.  He took a deep breath, “Please, just wait.”

“I’ve waited long enough,” she said quietly.

She knew arguing would get her nowhere but upset and resentful towards Roland.  It was true that she was exhausted, though.  It pulled at her bones and cast a fog over her thoughts but she had sailed the Brooke many times before on less sleep and was confident she could make it to top.  Even if she was fueled only by determination and stubbornness.

Roland seemed to deflate a little, “I know, but Killian wouldn’t want you to risk breaking your neck trying to find him.”

“No, he wouldn’t but if it had been him left behind he would have come here the moment he knew the compass could be at the top.”

Emma stopped short.  She hadn’t allowed herself to dwell much on Killian’s fate from the curse.  He had dealt a blow of some kind to Zelena, one that had cost him his hand in her ire.  No matter what other hardships the curse had done to him she knew in her heart he was fighting just as hard to get back to her.  Her only wish was that he wasn’t disregarding his own safety and well being to do it.

“An hour, at least,” Roland tried again. “Just to eat something substantial enough to make it to the top.”

Sighing she dropped down into the dirt and waved her hand imperiously at him.  Roland beamed at her, handed the sack with the food off to Grace, and began building a fire.  Grace shook her head and quietly dug out the bread Emma had packed earlier.  She tore off a chunk for herself before handing it to Emma and diving back into the sack.

“Why didn’t you try to convince me to rest too?” Emma asked curiously around a mouthful of the dense, nutty bread.

“If you hadn’t agreed so easily I might have,” Grace said offhandedly, pulling out a small battered pot. “I also know that nothing will stop you if it truly gets in your way.  Roland’s demands were hardly a formidable obstacle.”

Emma snickered, “Damn right.  Hey, if you’re making tea brew it strong.”

“And make enough for four,” Roland said quietly, with all the appearance of concentrating on building the fire.

Emma looked at him sharply.

“We’ve been followed,” he murmured but seemed unconcerned.  His eyes flicked to hers and then off behind her, “Have to admire a man for following his orders to the letter.”

“Shit-” she clenched her fists and her jaw.  Breathing deeply through her nose to calm herself she grit out, “Don’t tell him what we’re here for.  I don’t care how handsome you think he looks when the sun sets tonight.”

Roland blushed a deep fiery red and Grace tsked at her.  Emma hated to resort to such a low blow but she was tired and pissed that Turner was attached to her like a stubborn barnacle.  She took another deep breath and opened her mouth to apologize when Roland shook his head at her, fighting a sheepish grin.

“That obvious am I?  Let’s get this over with so you can start the climb,” he stood abruptly and cupped his hands around his mouth. “Come join us Mister Turner!  We’re just about to have a nice cup of tea!”

Emma snorted in laughter as she heard the far off fumbling of footsteps and snapping of twigs in what she assumed was Turner diving for cover.  Grace was hiding her own smile behind her hand, shaking her head.  Roland planted his hands on his hips with a look that Emma could tell was meant to be menacing but she could see the twitching of his lips and the mirth in his eyes.

“It’s good to know he hasn’t beguiled you completely,” she intoned flatly as she kicked at his foot.

“Trying to sneak up on a Merry Man is almost an insult.  Though not as much of one as blindly accepting his superior’s disdain as his own.  I’m beginning to wonder if my sensibilities have left me completely for continuing to admire him.”

Smiling sadly Emma felt a bittersweet pang remembering that exact fight she’d had with herself as she had fallen for Killian.

“He’s a good man,” she said quietly, “Even if he is loyal to a fault.”

Roland looked at her with something akin to wonder.  She worried that he might have sensed her double meaning but his attention was once more drawn to a point behind her.  From the sound of heavy footfalls and low muttering she figured Turner no longer saw a point in dragging out the inevitability of their confrontation.

“In this kingdom spying on a member of the royal family is punishable by death,” Emma said casually over her shoulder once she figured Turner was close enough to hear her.

“Then I count myself fortunate that Queen Snow disregards the rulings made by the Evil Queen,” Turner retorted as he stepped into her line of sight with a smug smile.

“It was made law by my Great Great Grandfather and has been supported and enforced by every head that has worn the crown since.  After Regina and Zelena do you really think we’d be lenient on this front?”

“But your mother, the Queen-”

“Is not here and I doubt anyone knows that you are either.  Roland and Grace are not loyal only to me but to Misthaven as well and are witnesses to your crime-” she felt a grim satisfaction at watching the blood drain from Turner’s face but noted with interest how his eyes had flicked to Roland when she’d mentioned his name.  After a pause long enough to let her words fully sink in she continued, “Is that what you’ve been waiting for?  For the ruthless pirate to make an appearance?  For me to damn everyone who stands in my way?  Sorry to disappoint both you and your king but the only villains you’ll find in this endeavor is yourselves.”

Turner rolled his shoulders, shifting his posture so he was standing at full attention.  Emma could see that he was warring with himself as his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides and his jaw ticked in agitation.  Finally he drew in a deep breath and unerringly met her eyes.

“Your Highness I would like to apologize for my suspicions and how they have influenced my behavior.  I admit I let the tales and rumors regarding your time as captain of the Tarina Brooke overshadow what I have witnessed with my own eyes these past weeks.  For that I am truly sorry.”

Emma gave him a tight nod.  She could tell Turner’s apology was sincere but also knew that he had purposefully avoided addressing his constant shadowing of her at Liam’s behest.  It seemed that was an apology she’d have to wrangle from the ass of a royal himself.

They sat and stood in uncomfortable silence while they waited for the water for the tea to boil.  Emma swung back and forth between trying to keep her eyes open and restlessly fiddling with her pack, eager to begin climbing.  She continued to watch Turner, observing as he cautiously eyed the beanstalk and even more cautiously stole glances at her.  His flush at being caught only deepened when he looked fleetingly at Roland before turning away completely.

When Grace handed her a steaming cup she could barely restrain herself from downing it immediately.  As it was she still scalded her tongue when she greedily drank down the strong tea only minutes later.  Her eyes watered as she felt the heat of the liquid seeping down her throat towards her belly.

“Serves you right,” Roland tsked as she hissed air through her teeth.

“I’m not drinking it for the pleasantries,” she retorted around a numb tongue.  She stood quickly, “If everything goes well I should be back by tomorrow evening, the next morning at the latest.  I’ll send a bird if something keeps me longer.”

“If something keeps… are you planning on climbing that thing?” Turner asked spinning to face her, aghast.

“I wasn’t planning on staring at it,” she deadpanned.

“And I assume neither of your companions will be accompanying you?” He frowned.

“No, they’re here because my mother requested that they be here.  For her own peace of mind.”

“Then I shall make the climb with you.”

Turner stood impossibly straighter, as if to prepare himself for a barrage of arguments.  Emma almost indulged him but she had no fight left in her.  She merely rolled her eyes and secured her pack across her back.

“Nothing I say is going to stop you is it?”

“No, Your Highness,” he said stubbornly.

“Then be my guest,” she said, waving for him to precede her.

Emma managed to avoid catching Roland’s eye but saw Grace watching her carefully.  Turner paid no attention to any of them as he strode to the base of the beanstalk.  The moment his hand touched the vibrant green stem he was thrown backward.  He landed hard a fair distance away, arms and legs askew, and clearly unconscious.

“Turner!”

“Emma!”

She smiled sheepishly at Grace as Roland rushed to where Turner was sprawled out.  Grace narrowed her eyes at her in return, crossing her arms over her chest clearly waiting for an explanation.

“He’ll be fine once he wakes.  In an hour or two-” she bit back a smile as she waved her hand at the seemingly innocuous base. “It’s the protection spell the giants put on the beanstalk.  Only my father and I have a way to overcome it.”

“You could have just warned him off!” Roland snapped angrily, kneeling by Turner.

“The idiot either wouldn’t have believed me or ignored what I’d said and still tried to climb the thing.  At least this way I’m here to tell you the only lasting injury he’ll have will be the one to his pride.  He deserves worse but I’m feeling generous and he was holding me up.”

“Worse?!” Roland yelled at her, unbelievingly.

“Yes, worse,” she growled, storming up to him. “I wasn’t lying about what we do to spies.  It may have been Liam’s orders but he continually acted on them, obviously listening to us talking about the beanstalk or he wouldn’t have been able to see it.  My mother was lenient before she lost her crown again, always believed in giving second chances, and I did too but things have changed.  When he wakes tell him he’s on his last one.”

Without waiting for a response from either Roland or Grace Emma strode over to the beanstalk.  Unlike with Turner when she placed her hand on a vine to pull herself up nothing happened.  She didn’t even feel a slight tingle of magic.  Grimacing at the roughness of the plant and the pull at her shoulders she began her ascent.  She could feel their eyes on her, an itch between her shoulderblades, but she stubbornly refused to look back at them.  Focusing instead on finding suitable handholds she climbed.

Three hours later Emma stopped to rest for the fourth time in less than an hour.  Leaning her forehead to rest in the crook of her elbow she stared blankly down the length of the beanstalk, the ground no longer in sight.  Her arms and legs were shaking, her vision had begun to double, and she had no idea how close or how far she was from the top.  She grumbled out curses that she hadn’t listened to Roland and taken the time to rest properly.

“Two fucking hours wouldn’t have killed me.”

“They say the first sign of madness is talking to oneself, Swan.”

Emma barely flinched.  She adjusted her head to press her chin to her shoulder to stare blankly at the grinning Killian latched onto the beanstalk next to her.  Tightening her grip she could still feel the rough bite of the vines under her hands and reasoned that while she hadn’t plunged to her death she had certainly fallen into a waking dream, or perhaps a nightmare.  Gritting her teeth she began to climb again.

“Bad form to ignore a man, lass.”

“Can’t ignore a man when he isn’t really there,” she muttered under her breath.

“You wound me-” Killian clutched at his chest, pulling her attention unwillingly to him.

At the end of his left arm a bright, metal hook, one she recognized vaguely from the ones used on the deck of the Brooke, winked in the sunlight from where it was half buried in the beanstalk.  She blinked and his hand returned, gripping a vine as the tendons across the back of it stood out in sharp relief.  Her eyes skittered away to her own hands instead, unwilling to see his hand shift back to the hook.

“I may not be here in body, love, but I am always with you,” he said softly.

She gave a hiccupping laugh, “I’d prefer you to be here in body.”

“You know I would too,” he said sadly, climbing steadily beside her.

Without an answer to give that wouldn’t involve tears Emma remained silent and continued to climb.  Killian made none of the sounds she did as they ascended.  If it wasn’t for the movement she could see out of the corner of her eye or the calming presence at her side she could have believed that he had disappeared.  The thought that he could do so easily made her breath catch in her throat.

“Bad form knocking Turner out like that.”

“He deserved it,” she huffed.

“In that I agree but Roland also had a point, love.  You could have warned him of the consequences first,” Killian rebuked mildly.

“He wouldn’t have listened.  You told me once how stubborn he is and I’ve seen enough of it myself-” Emma continued to climb for a few minutes before grumbling, “Fine, I should have said something.”

“Quite, but at the very least it will ensure he thinks twice before underestimating you, love,” Killian hummed proudly.

“And make Liam hate me more than he already does,” she sighed.

“You know he doesn’t hate you, Swan.”

“Why, because you’re telling me?”

Emma winced, afraid he’d disappear immediately.  Instead he turned his head towards her, smiling.

“Exactly.  You are well aware that I’m only telling you the truths you already know-” Killian winked as his smile softened. “Just as you know that I miss you terribly, love.”

“How can I know that?  You’re not even really here,” her voice warbled and she swallowed thickly around the lump in her throat.

“Aye, but I assure you that whether or not I’m truly here you know that I love you.  No curse or witch, time or distance will change that.  Do you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because you feel exactly the same way, love.  Even if you haven’t said it yet.”

“I’ve dreamed you up and you still have to prove that you’re right,” she said, laughing weakly.

“I beg to differ, Swan, it seems that you’re the one proving yourself right.  Not that I mind of course.”

Emma had a retort ready on her tongue but instead she said, “I do, you know, feel the same.”

He gave her a bittersweet smile but made no comment about her half confession.  Their climb was mostly silent after that, with only her somewhat labored breathing and Killian’s quiet encouragements breaking it.  As they wended their way up she no longer felt qualms about looking at him.  She felt as though she needed to soak in the sight of him by her side to keep her sanity for what might come.  No matter how contradictory she knew that line of thinking was.

“Almost there now, love.”

Killian’s voice caused her to shift her focus from his profile to the beanstalk above.  She could see the flat grey underside of what she knew was the base of the giant’s kingdom in the sky.  It was much closer than she had realized and in her shock her hand slipped.  The sharp pain in her hand caused Killian’s image to shudder.

“No!” Emma gasped.

“Your hand-”

“I don’t care about my hand!  You can’t leave me now!” She babbled, panicked.

“Swan, you knew this couldn’t last,” Killian murmured gently.  His body faded into transparency before snapping back into sharp relief, his left hand a hook once more, “Don’t, Emma, don’t try and keep me here.”

Emma blinked quickly, realizing that she had been doing just that.  As much as she knew that keeping him with her, talking to the image of him and holding on it was a path to madness.

“I will find you,” she said resolutely.  Tears gathered in her eyes, blurring his edges once again, “I promise.”

“Of course you will, love.  I’ve yet to see you fail.”

She wanted to stare at him, to hold his hand or even the hook, she wanted to wrap her arms around him and anchor him to her forever.  Instead she closed her eyes, felt her chin wobble, let the tears course down her face, as she breathed out slowly.  When she opened her eyes once more he was gone.

Her tears were her only companion as she continued her climb.  The pain in her hand had dulled to a low throb but in her attempt to treat it gingerly her pace slowed considerably.  Just as she was about to look up to check her progress a shadow moved above her and she was plucked off the beanstalk like a bug off a flower.

“Princess Emma?”

Despite only being able to see the full moon of face right in front of her and nothing else of the giant holding her aloft it was easy to see that Anton looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him, with wild curly brown hair and a beard of the same color.  The suspicion in his honey colored eyes wasn’t a surprise, she was certain that even if her visits hadn’t stopped that would have never changed, but the tightness around his mouth was new.  Emma realized with a pang that he wanted to let himself be happy that she was there but couldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up that he was no longer alone again.

“Hello, Anton.  Long time no see.”

Anton’s face split into a wide smile, causing the skin around his eyes to crinkle.  Her mother’s warnings about him not being happy to see her were for nothing as he practically vibrated in joy.  Unfortunately he seemed to have forgotten that she was dangling from between his fingers.  Emma tried to fight off the vertigo of swaying thirty feet in the air but unlike the times she’d done so in the crow’s nest of the Brooke she had nothing to hold onto to keep herself somewhat steady.

“Anton!” She gasped, swallowing down the bile creeping up her throat. “I can’t- Anton you need to-”

“Oh, Princess Emma, I’m sorry!”

He immediately sat her down on the flat, fleshy palm of his other hand.  Her dizziness continued to linger but she no longer felt like she was in danger of losing what might have been left in her stomach.  Anton was holding her at his eye level and she smiled weakly at his look of concern.

“I’ll be alright in a moment,” she said with only a slight warble to her voice, patting his palm in reassurance.

“You’ve been away a long time, Princess.  I thought you and your father had forgotten about me,” Anton said without accusation but she could still hear a sad resignation coloring his words.

“It’s a long, long story and I’m more than willing to tell it but I did just climb that beanstalk-”

“Right, of course!” Anton smiled widely again.  He turned and began walking into his estate, “I’ve begun harvesting the corn and tomatoes and I have a cider I made from last year’s apple crop.  Your little hut might be a bit dusty but it’s still there.  I guess I knew deep down that you’d be back.”

Emma gave him an apologetic smile.  She thought longingly of the hut, specifically the bed filled with goose down that was almost softer than her bed at the castle.  She was already half asleep from the gentle rocking of Anton’s palm as he walked and knew if she even looked at the hut she would end up sleeping for a week.

“The food, drink and catching up first.  I owe you an explanation before I can sleep.”

Anton shrugged in agreement and changed the direction he was walking.  Emma pressed her hands down to keep her balance as he turned and gasped as pain flared in her cut hand.

“Princess?”

“I’m fine, Anton,” she said waving away his concern. “A little cut is all.”

She looked down at her hand, finally able to take the time to access how badly she had been cut.  From what she could tell the wound had reopened and was bleeding slowly once more.  She grimaced at the smears of dried and fresh blood across her palm.  With a sigh of resignation she maneuvered her pack into her lap and began digging through it.  Due to her desperate search for the mirror the night before she worried that a few essential items had been left behind on her bedroom floor.  Mainly her flask filled with rum.  It didn’t help that she had essentially gathered the far flung objects haphazardly into her arms and stuffed them back in her pack, only checking to make sure that the mirror and her cuff had made it in.  Finally with a small cry of triumph that had Anton looking at her quizzically she felt the flask and tried to pull it out.

“Everything okay, Princess?” Anton asked as he stopped and brought her up to his eyeline.

“Yeah, just trying to… ah!”

Emma wrenched the flask out and saw why it had put up a fight.  A length of black cloth had somehow wrapped itself around it and she pulled at it until it fluttered free of the pack.  As she untangled her flask she saw that it was a finely made scarf, one she didn’t remember owning.  Furrowing her brow she ran her hands over the soft material, trying to recall if she had bought it or merely liberated it on the seas from one wealthy merchant or another.  Then her fingers drifted over a bit of embroidery and her stomach clenched as she read the monogramed letters: KCBH.

She had never known Killian’s full name but there was no doubt in her mind that the scarf was his.  Letting out a shaky breath she bunched the scarf up in her hands and pressed it to her nose.  Inhaling deeply she swore she could pick up the faintest trace of his achingly familiar scent.  It was barely there, Emma was certain no one else would have detected it, but it was enough to comfort her all the same.  She looked up at Anton, ready to tell her tale.

“Regina, or who we thought was Regina, attacked not long after I turned sixteen…”

Emma began the story of her long absence as she tended to her hand and Anton resumed making his way through his estate and to his kitchens.  She told him the story as matter of factly as she could, only faltering when she poured rum over her wound and then stopping completely to tighten with her teeth the knot she’d made in the scarf that she’d used as an impromptu bandage.  After that her voice didn’t break once, even when she relived to a rapt but horror stricken Anton the agony of running from the curse and having to leave Killian behind.

“So you were just like me, left alone,” Anton sighed sadly, rolling a grape the size of a wagon wheel between his fingers.

“No,” Emma contradicted quickly, wincing at her bluntness but unable to lie. “I had friends in other kingdoms, I found my mother, so I was never really alone.  Not like you.  I’m so sorry that you thought we’d abandoned you, Anton.”

“I was angry at first, I admit,” Anton said with a slight frown.  He placed the grape in front of where Emma was seated on an old wine cork atop a cake stand, “I thought you and your father were liars just like his twin.  It was much later that my anger gave way to some specks of rational thought.

“Your father had told me about the Evil Queen and even some others that posed threats to your kingdom.  In my isolation I had forgotten that even though I was your friend I was neither a priority nor a concern if something terrible had happened so far below.  I have been lonely but I haven’t been resentful.  Tending to my crops and experimenting with the seeds your father had brought me once has kept me plenty occupied all these years.”

Emma’s heart seemed to stop at Anton’s mention of his crops.  Logically she knew that no magic beans remained, he had told her the story of how he had razed the entire field of them during the Giant Wars.  She couldn’t help the wellspring of hope that bubbled to the surface that he might have somehow been able to restore what he had once destroyed.  Then her senses returned and with it the responsibility of asking for the object she actually had a chance of finding.

“Anton, I-” she hesitated, not wanting to disrupt his joy at her being there.  Looking up towards his face she was surprised to find him smiling knowingly down at her. “You know I came here for something.”

“Yes, I wasn’t sure when I first pulled you off the beanstalk but even before you told me what kept you away I knew you were here with a purpose.  The look on your face when you found that cloth in your bag said it all,” Anton’s smile dipped into a frown. “I don’t have any beans, if that’s what you’ve come here for.”

“It was a long shot anyway,” she said, hoping her disappointment wasn’t bleeding through. “But that’s actually not what I came up here for.”

“Really?  What did you come here for?” He asked, not unkindly.

“First I need to give you something-” Emma hurriedly grabbed her pack for the mirror.  She had an easier time pulling it out than her flask but she hesitated before unwrapping it from its cover, “This isn’t a bribe or an way to take what you might have to give.  We, I, want you to have it.  I hope it can help keep some of the loneliness at bay.”

She carefully pulled the cloth off and held the mirror up for Anton to take.  He delicately pinched it between his fingers but it nearly disappeared between his thumb and forefinger.  With careful movements he placed it in his other palm and looked down on it.

“It’s been enchanted,” she called up to him. “It’ll show you anything you want to see in the realm.  You just- you just have to ask.”

“This is wonderful, Princess, a bit small but wonderful!” Anton said as he lowered his hand.  He studied her closely, “I would have given you anything you asked for even without this marvelous gift.  So, what are you looking for?”

“A compass, it’s enchanted like the mirror to help with travelling between realms.  My uncle saw it here, when he… was here.  I know it’s been a long time and I know that it might not even be here but I had to try.  It’s my only chance to find what Zelena took from me.”

Emma knew she was on the verge of a breakdown.  She was exhausted, mentally and physically, and felt as though everything was closing in on her.  It took all her strength to keep her head up and prepare herself for what Anton had to say.

“I have it, I’m not sure where but I do have it, Princess,” Anton said as Emma nearly collapsed in relief.  She almost missed what he said next, “How will you use it?  I have no beans.”

“My mother and others are back at our castle looking for anything that can lead us to one,” she said breathlessly, shaking with joy.

“Why not use the mirror?”

“What?” Emma stilled in shock.

“The mirror can show you anything you want to see in right?  Why not ask it to show you where to find a bean?” Anton asked sounding confused.

“I… we… no one thought of that,” she whispered, shaking her head at the obviousness of it.

“Go ahead-” Anton placed his palm with the mirror next to her, “Ask.”

Emma picked up the mirror with an unsteady hand and a pounding heart, “Please, show me where to find a bean.”

The surface of the mirror rippled like it had previously but before despair could set in it cleared and Emma nearly dropped the mirror at what she saw.  There reflected back at her, clear as day and unmistakable, were the achingly familiar lines of the Tarina Brooke.

If you’d like to be tagged so you don’t miss future chapters let me know.

Tagging: @teamhook, @galadriel26

[donnerpartyofone]

I've found myself looking at my relationship with my sister in a new light and wondering how to deal with drawing a line. I get along better with her than anyone I've ever met, but it really struck me how her anxiety reaction really conditioned me in a way that makes me walk on eggshells and focus on accommodating her above all else. I feel bad because I can't blame her for her anxiety but she can get somewhat abusive when she can't communicate what she needs and I don't know how to help her.

that’s really rough, thanks for talking about it. that definitely sounds like a situation you truly can’t do much about, if anything, it’s just a test of your character. i admire your perseverance. this might be way beyond your means, but it seems possible that some kind of joint counseling might be in order, to try to help her develop some better communication skills, and help you figure out how to put your foot down in a healthy productive way. i’m just speculating, though, that sounds really difficult.

i hope you won’t feel offended when i downshift into something much more casual. i’ve been obsessing over it and can’t think of what to do but vent. i’m struggling with this situation where i guess i COULD just say “you know what, i love you, but being friends with you takes away more energy than i get back.” i’m just kind of unwilling to do that, yet, and i don’t have a lot of experience separating from a friend in whom i still have a lot of emotional investment. ordinarily, i cut difficult people out way before they’re close enough to me to cause even slight problems; the only really dramatic rifts i’ve ever co-created were in romantic relationships. i’ll probably delete this in a bit, since it doesn’t really serve anything here, but for now i my erupt.

this dear friend of mine has really serious ADD and a complex of other problems for which she is medicated and sees several different mental health professionals. almost every time we interact, i have to think very deliberately about how she’s not ignoring me or taking me for granted or being argumentative or making laborious requirements of me on purpose, she has legitimate problems focusing and prioritizing, or noticing when she’s being destructive. we BASICALLY get along great; she’s extremely lovey dovey with me to the point of adulation, and we’ve shared a lot of hard times and personal secrets, so i know the relationship itself is real, even during the times when i can’t seem to get her respectful attention. it’s curious because she’s really pretty successful due to her genuine talent and charm, but once in a while she’s so disorganized and demanding that i think HOW COULD YOU HAVE POSSIBLY GOTTEN TO THIS PLACE IN YOUR LIFE.

here are a couple of good examples of what it can often be like to know her:

- she cuts my hair. i pay full price, as an actual customer, for this service, and it’s invariably complicated and maddening. i don’t want to stop going because she’s the only stylist i’ve ever been satisfied with, and also it would definitely cause emotional problems between us. but, she rearranges her schedule on me constantly, up to the very last minute, to the point that i’m standing around her neighborhood killing time and watching my phone to find out if and when i’m going to actually be seen. most recently, to try to avoid the usual problems, i emailed her more than two weeks in advance of the 26th, by which date i NEED to have my hair cut for a wedding. she told me to text her instead. i repeated the question via text, and she asked me repeatedly if i’m available saturday. i reexplained that, no, that would be a week and a half too early, i need it as near to the 26th as possible. she told me she’ll be out of town around then, but she’ll give me her latest availability. i never heard back. a week later my fiance texted her to ask if she can fit us both in for an appointment close to the 26th. she told us that she’s “waiting on a confirmation” from someone else (even though i had asked her a week prior), and then offered us “wednesday”. he asked if she means the 17th or the 24th. we didn’t hear anything for the rest of the day, even though the 17th was in less than 24 hours. at midnight she finally replied that she meant the 24th–exactly what i asked for in the first place.

- the following event, which could have taken two minutes, took place over about two weeks: she was working on a writing project. i offered to read it and give her some friendly feedback, if she wanted. she passionately insisted that she could NEVER take advantage of my talent for free, that she MUST pay me. i reminded her that i’m not a real editor, and i was just being friendly, but she INSISTED. so i say ok, what would you be willing to pay for this? she said she CAN’T decide what to pay me, I HAVE TO decide what my services are worth. i suggested that we could just trade for haircuts, but that was deemed to be too unprofessional for this imaginary reward she thinks i deserve. inventing a rate was difficult because i don’t deserve a professional rate, and i don’t even know what it would be. so, hypnotically embroiled in this stupid conversation, i did all this research and this fake math, and came back to her with a rate. she dramatically declared that she CANNOT afford it, and is therefore unworthy of my illustrious services. at this point i’m sitting there thinking…how the fuck did i get into this? all i did was offer to read her thing if she wanted a fresh pair of eyes. now i’ve spent two weeks negotiating and doing this pointless research project, just to build myself up to something that i’m not and don’t want to be, only to have her like sort of grovellingly fire herself from the situation because she’s so undeserving or whatever. of course, she wound up trading me haircuts. once the writing finally started, any time i gave her notes, it was a nightmare. if i was critical, she wouldn’t really buy my suggestions. if i was encouraging, she’d borderline call me a liar, as if i were ripping her off, and angrily insist that i be “brutally honest” and “tear her to shreds” etc. at that point, i would re-remind her that i’m not an editor, and it sounds like she knows what she needs–a real editor. eventually she let me off the hook, but almost only because she backburnered the project indefinitely while she works on something else.

this makes it sound like all i have to do is not get involved in anything vaguely professional with her, but it’s more pervasive than this. like, i��ll ask if she wants me to bring anything when i come over, and she’ll ask for a couple of small snacks, but then when i show up with them, she spins out into this thing about how i’m SO WONDERFUL and she feels SO BAD that she MADE ME bring her food, and her solution is to try to force me to keep the food, which was very cheap and which i don’t even want. i’ll have to argue with her about it intermittently for the rest of the night, and there’s nothing i can do to convince her that having this insane fight, about something i volunteered to do, is a much bigger inconvenience than the $3 i just spent on cliff bars for her. i suppose i could simplify all this by saying she’s the kind of person who will ask if you’re mad at her or something, and you say you’re not because you’re not, and then she’ll ask you again and again until you really ARE angry, at which point she thinks she was right all along. my fiance has noted that she doesn’t behave this extremely with him, and we often suspect that she’s instinctively recreating dramas that took place between her and her mother, or her and her ex-girlfriends or something, and i just happen to be a really good proxy for whatever the story was there. being tolerant of her makes her suspicious of me, but if i get aggravated, then i’m being untrue to myself, and getting wrapped up in some sort of mythology that isn’t actually about me.

she is fundamentally an exciting and affectionate person; she has tons of admiring friends, and interesting people always want to support her projects, for good reason. i value her friendship, and i don’t THINK i really want to part ways with her. however, i also don’t think she has the emotional stability to have a constructive conversation about her behavior (especially when she really craves for me to hate on her or something), and i haven’t seen her demonstrate an ability to change and control her behavior anyway. being the kind of person i am, i constantly fantasize about tying her to a chair and describing all the stuff that she does, how it doesn’t help her, and how it negatively impacts our relationship (and i’m sure many of her other relationships), and just totally deprogramming her with my brilliant logic–but of course that’s all complete nonsense. since i’m the one with control, i think i just have to train myself to stop getting so wound up and trying to envision how to “fix” her. i don’t even have to see her more than once a month, sometimes not even that often. i gotta get a grip.

[sarahburness]

How I Prioritize and Take Care of Myself Without Feeling Selfish

“I am worthy of the best things in life, and I now lovingly allow myself to accept it.” ~Louise Hay

Looking back on my life, I see that for a long time I struggled to take care of my own wants and needs and didn’t make them a priority. I used to find that very uncomfortable, and sometimes even selfish. I was a master of giving, but I faced serious obstacles to receiving.

By nature, I am a nurturer. I find tremendous joy and fulfillment in giving, so the old me used to offer plenty of time and energy to everyone else (my family, friends, and employers). I was always doing my best to please others and make them happy. I still believe there’s nothing wrong about that, and that my only mistake was treating myself as unimportant.

Several years ago, while I was working for an international corporation in Shanghai, I was assigned to organize a major team-building event for the organization. I decided to go for a Chinese food cooking class. It all went beautifully, and everyone had much fun. People were cooking, laughing, and taking pictures, while I was supervising and making sure everything went impeccably.

After the cooking class, it was time for dinner, time to eat that delicious food and enjoy a relaxing evening together. I had spent hours setting the tables, preparing different team games, and making sure this event was going to be a party to remember. And so it was, especially for me.

I will never forget that day. It was transformational; a wake-up call that shook me to the bones. My colleagues asked where I was going to sit and have dinner, and I couldn’t answer. I had been so focused on making everything perfect for everyone else that I had completely forgotten about myself.

Everyone had their seats and was ready to enjoy a nice meal, except for me. I was planning to grab some food at the end, if anything was left. I’d entertain everyone and play the master of ceremonies, even if n one had ever asked me to do that.

I was the only one responsible for that unfortunate decision to please everyone but me.

My first reaction was to blame myself. How could I have done such a thing? How could I have been so stupid? Deep inside, I felt angry with myself, and upset with my mother, as well.

Since an early age, I watched her dedicate herself to us, her family, day and night: never tired (that’s what we thought), always available and willing to help. I watched her taking care of the household and working full time, including night shifts.

I would have wanted her to teach me differently, to tell me about healthy boundaries and self-care. But that was the best she knew, and she did the best she could. Her mother had done the same thing, and so had her grandmother.

Today, I feel thankful for that precious gift. My mother taught me how to serve, nourish, and nurture from the heart. However, there was one more thing for me to learn as a grown-up woman: that self-care was not selfish, but fair. Like everyone else, I am also a person, worthy of love, care, and attention.

Today I know I needed that experience, to understand how old, inherited patterns of behavior didn’t serve me well. We can only change what we are aware of and accept to be true about ourselves, and staying in denial is a trap.

So here’s what worked well for me and helped me take much better care of myself:

1. Do more things for my heart and soul.

If I can’t find time for myself in my busy agenda, I make it. We all have twenty-four hours a day, and my wants and needs are important.

I have started to spend a higher number of hours all by myself. It doesn’t mean I’m not a social person or I don’t love the people around me. That’s how I reconnect with myself and get grounded, reflect, and recharge.

I take breaks between working hours; I am not a robot. Sometimes, I go out for a nice walk in nature. I watch a good movie or read a good book. I listen to relaxing recordings, with my eyes closed. I sometimes treat myself to a massage. I use the beautiful bed sheets and the nice towels instead of saving them for the guests, because I’m worth it.

2. Take good care of my body.

I know my body is the temple of my soul, and the only one I’ve got, so I make sure I give it nutritious foods and plenty of water. I schedule those much-needed doctor appointments and yearly health checks. I take a nap when I need rest; put my phone on silent and disconnect from the outer world for a while. Surprisingly, the world does not collapse.

3. Set healthy boundaries with the outer world.

One of the most difficult things I had to learn was how to say no to things I didn’t really want to do, without feeling selfish, guilty, or overly worried that I might hurt or upset someone else.

I struggled with this in my personal relationships (like when I saw a movie in town on a Sunday because a good friend had asked, even though my body only wanted to sleep and recharge), but not only in this area of my life.

This was a challenge at work, as well, whether I was saying yes to tasks that were not part of my job profile or volunteering to take on new projects when I already had a lot on my plate.

But one day, I decided to speak up for myself and see what happened. Surprisingly, everything was just fine when I started telling people what I needed.

To me, setting healthy boundaries was a learned practice and here’s where I am today:

If it sounds like a “should,” I don’t do it. I have learned how to say no to things I don’t really want to do without fearing I might disappoint others.

Saying no doesn’t mean I dislike or reject the other person. I know I can’t disappoint anyone. People disappoint themselves with the expectations they set for whom they want me to be and what they expect me to do. It’s always about them, and it has zero to do with me. If they truly love me, they would understand.

It’s not my job to please others, and I don’t feel like I owe anyone any explanations or apologies for the way I am spending my precious time, and with whom. We always choose how much we give.

Setting boundaries in a relationship might look selfish to the outer world. In reality, it is a form of self-respect, self-love, and self-care.

4. Stop fighting for perfection.

Years ago, I almost got burnt out at work. I was working ten hours a day as a rule, plus weekends. I couldn’t sleep well, and I generally spent my weekend time recovering from stress through overeating.

One day, I collapsed. I often saw my colleagues leaving the office after the normal working hours, while I was doing overtime on a regular basis. I blamed myself for being less intelligent than my peers, thinking that my brain couldn’t handle my assignments at the same speed. In other words, I thought I was stupid.

I had a chat with my manager about my workload, and that was transformational. I told him it felt too hard to handle. I will never forget that manager’s words:

“Sara, I do appreciate your hard work, and I’m very pleased to have you on my team. However, I want you to know that I only expect you to run the daily business. I have never asked you for perfection, but for good enough.”

That was mind blowing. For the first time ever, I came to understand that “good enough” had never been part of my repertoire. I couldn’t define what that was. I wanted things to do everything perfectly so no one could hurt me or blame anything on my performance. I was an overachiever, identifying my human worth through my professional results and achievements.

I was raising the bar so high that my body couldn’t cope with the expectations I had set for myself any longer. Nobody else was responsible for my situation, but me.

So here’s what I’ve learned from that experience: The need for perfection is energy consuming, and it can be exhausting for both body and soul. If this sounds familiar to you, please know that you will never get rid of perfectionism till you learn how to be okay with good enough.

Today I do the best I know and be the best I can be in every situation, and I aim for progress instead of perfection. I have learned to embrace my mistakes as much-needed opportunities for growth. I know am not a Superwoman, and that we all have good and bad days.

5. Let go of the “do it all” mentality.

In a society that values human worth through how well we do things in life (based on individual results, goals, and achievements), most of us have forgotten just to be. Everyone is in a hurry, doing something or running somewhere. Many of us have even started to feel guilty for doing nothing.

But here’s what I believe: Doing nothing doesn’t necessary mean I’m lazy. As long as it comes from an empowering place of choice—my own choosing—doing nothing is an action!

6. Love and approve of myself, as I am.

I’ll be brutally honest with this one: I often used to put other people’s needs above my own not because I genuinely wanted to help others. In many cases, I did it because I wanted people to like me. I wanted to be seen as someone who could handle everything in my private life and career so that people would perceive me as invincible, irreplaceable, and strong. Especially at work, I wanted to feel important, valuable, and needed.

This came along with a very strong need for control, as I thought that would allow me to trust that I’d always be included in my group of friends, safe and never abandoned. According to Maslow’s pyramid of human needs, we all have a basic need to feel a sense of belonging to a group or community. However, if the cost is living behind a mask and having a hidden agenda, our relationships can become inauthentic, unhealthy, and even toxic.

Looking back on my past, I realize that I often used others as an instrument of self-validation. I spent so much of my precious time trying to please others that I didn’t have any energy to focus on myself and what I truly wanted.

I needed others to fill my void and help me avoid myself. Focusing on other people was a way for me to escape my own flaws and limitations. I used to associate this behavior with the extroverted side of my personality, but today I know that was a lie.

Once I learned to approve of myself unconditionally and treat myself as if I were my own best friend, I didn’t need others to validate me. Though I still need to be loved and appreciated, I am not needy for approval any longer. And I no longer try to control how people perceive me, as I know they’ll always see me filtered through their own lenses.

—

Once I began to take care of myself—body, mind, and soul—I started to feel happier and more balanced, energized, and alive. Investing in my self-care was the best decision I could ever make, and a life changing one.

And now, I would like to hear from you. Have you ever felt like taking care of yourself and prioritizing your heart’s desires was selfish? Do you also tend to put other people’s wants and needs before your own? And why do you think that is?

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About Sara Fabian

Sara Fabian is a women’s career and empowerment coach and inspirational speaker, on a mission to help professional women to discover their unique strengths, gifts and talents, boost their confidence, find their calling and live a meaningful life of purpose. For weekly inspiration, subscribe to her free newsletter at sarafabiancoaching.com or follow her on Facebook.

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