half with gratitude half with surprise

One of my favourite poems

A woman was waiting at an airport one night, with several long hours before her flight. She hunted for a book in the airport shops, bought a bag of cookies and found a place to drop.

She was engrossed in her book but happened to see, that the man sitting beside her, as bold as could be…grabbed a cookie or two from the bag in between, which she tried to ignore to avoid a scene.

So she munched the cookies and watched the clock, as the gutsy cookie thief diminished her stock. She was getting more irritated as the minutes ticked by, thinking, “If I wasn’t so nice, I would blacken his eye.”
With each cookie she took, he took one too, when only one was left, she wondered what he would do. With a smile on his face, and a nervous laugh, he took the last cookie and broke it in half.

He offered her half, as he ate the other, she snatched it from him and thought… oooh, brother. This guy has some nerve and he’s also rude, why he didn’t even show any gratitude!
She had never known when she had been so galled, and sighed with relief when her flight was called. She gathered her belongings and headed to the gate, refusing to look back at the thieving ingrate.

She boarded the plane, and sank in her seat, then she sought her book, which was almost complete. As she reached in her baggage, she gasped with surprise, there was her bag of cookies, in front of her eyes.
If mine are here, she moaned in despair, the others were his, and he tried to share. Too late to apologize, she realized with grief, that she was the rude one, the ingrate, the thief.

I Think I Have an Idea

The inspiration to write this hit me last night after all the amazing Captain Charming moments we got. This is my first OUAT fic (like ever), so I’m really nervous about posting it. I hope I did them justice and I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it! Also, totally unbeta’d, so I apologize for any mistakes!


It’s when he goes to return the book to where they’ve been hiding it that he notices. It’s only a glimpse of an image buried under other scattered pages, but it’s enough to spark Killian’s curiosity. Setting the storybook aside, Killian steps over to where Henry has been messily piling up his Author handywork. He extracts the one page that had caught his attention, the small corner of the picture revealing a sight Killian would rather soon forget. His eyes widen as he takes in the artwork, flipping it over to see the words neatly printed on the other side.

Brow furrowing, he lowers his arm, the page still firmly grasped between his fingers. His mind replays the events depicted on the paper unchallenged as he makes is way over to the stairs leading back to the rest of the loft. Killian slowly descends, stopping near the bottom so he can take a seat on one of the steps.

David looks up from where he’s still sitting at the table. “Hook?” He questions, the concern evident in his voice. He pushes back from his chair, crossing the short distance to where Killian sit. “What’s wrong?”

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