#congrats to our newest winner!!!
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pluto
#art#mcyt#life series#trafficblr#real life#real life smp#april fools#zombiecleo#tw tags:#blood#decided to have fun with colours on this one#congrats to our newest winner!!!#i hope you're all aware that it's now obligatory to include cleo in all winner art from now on
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pov: carmy makes people magazine's sexiest chef alive list
a/n: this is a little blurb inspired by ayo's incredible reaction to every interviewer ever asking her about jaw's calvin klein campaign.... if you haven't seen it, she just hides the photo or makes the funniest 'please don't bring this up' face while exclaiming: that's my boy! this is a work function! you can see it here (watch till the end you will not regret it ayo'[email protected] -- it costs A LOT of money lmao). anyways, congrats to my golden globe winners eeeeeek!
riding the high of the bear's newest award: best restaurant great lakes, and buzzed on the best that veuve cliquot has to offer, as many staff members of the bear as possible have to come to celebrate at the james beard awards once again.
of course, you're hoping this year's afterparty will be a little less eventful -- not that you're mad at how last year's ended.
you, carmy, syd, richie, natalie, marcus, tina, and ebra are all gathered for an interview, answering questions about taking home the big win for the restaurant.
"last year chef sydney took home the rising star award, and this year it's best restaurant great lakes. how does it feel?" the interviewer, a well known and james beard-award winner herself, sophia roe asks as her cameraman follows closely behind.
"yeah, it's uh, wow. it's a huge accomplishment and we cannot be more honored to be taking this win home," sydney answers with a grin stretched far across her face.
it's surreal, for all of you, really.
"and chef carmy, i hear there's another congratulations in order," sophia continues. "you made people magazine's sexiest chef list this year and then shortly after, had a profile done in GQ."
nat groans in response while richie snickers, only too quick to whip out the screenshot he has on his phone of the article as carmy turns beet red.
"i uh... yeah. that was um... a surprise," he stammers his eyes shifting from the interviewer to you, and then to richie for a death glare.
"oh don't worry. i got it riiiiiiight here," richie says, eager to rush over to the interviewer and revel in carmy's embarrassment.
"oh put that away!!" sydney snaps, pushing richie's phone down.
"mixed reviews from the restaurant staff?" sophia asks curiously.
"looks like i'm the only proud of our guy," richie gloats, shooting you a look that causes your eyes to roll.
"no of course not!" sydney exclaims.
"it's just-, that's my brother!" natalie is quick to chime in, defending sydney.
"exactly. that's my boy! that's-, he's our-, this is our family," sydney explains passionately. "that's her brother." and then a quick gesture to you. "and that's her husband!"
"my what?!" you exclaim, caught off guard.
carmy snorts out a laugh in response to you while the interviewer and cameraman chuckle.
"sorry! that's her mans. that's her boyfriend, yknow?" sydney corrects herself with a laugh, before continuing to answer the interviewers question, this time with both marcus and richie to support.
"can't start any rumors, now can we?" you mutter under your breath, for only carmy to hear.
carmy only snakes his arm around your waist, hugging you closer to him this time.
"and if you ask me," you add, mischievously. "i'd be more than happy to tell everyone about your new accolade of 'sexiest chef alive' if i knew it wouldn't totally humiliate you."
carmy laughs dryly this time, "good thing syd jumped to my defense then first, babe."
"good thing."
#carmen berzatto x you#carmy berzatto#carmy x oc#the bear hulu#the bear fx#jeremy allen white#carmen 'carmy' berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto headcanon#the bear headcanon#carmy berzatto imagines#carmy berzatto fluff#make my heart surrender#the bear fluff#the bear blurbs
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hat trick | sidney crosby
instagram edits
because I can’t help myself 🙈 some little crosby fam instagram posts through the years. follows the storyline of my hat trick blurb.
enjoy!
xoxo nina
y/ncrosby
y/ncrosby sophie taylor crosby 🩷
tcrosby already a daddy’s girl!
y/ncrosby your brother never stood a chance
penguins Welcome to the newest penguin! 🐧
mackinnon29 Uncle Nate has a nice ring to it
y/ncrosby
y/ncrosby “I need to win another cup to put the baby in” - sidney crosby, stanley cup winner
kletang_58 Soph is our lucky charm 🍀
tcrosby but when I ask to sit in the cup i’m being ‘unreasonable’ 😒
user12 BABY IN THE CUP!!!
y/ncrosby
y/ncrosby bump sponsored by the stanley cup and champagne toasts 🤰🏻
e.malkin71geno tell him to win cup for this baby too
user17 Hockey draft in 18 years is gonna be WILD
catherinelaflamme11 You two just make the cutest babies 😍🥰
y/ncrosby
y/ncrosby welcome to the world violet marie 🩷 #girlmom
tcrosby sid is so screwed 😭
mcdavid97 congrats crosby fam!
user19 SID THE KID HAS KIDS?! I FEEL ANCIENT
y/ncrosby
y/ncrosby one more crosby on the way 🤍
tcrosby auntie taylor mode is intensifying!!
mackinnon29 So this is the reason that my mom keeps asking when I’m giving her grandkids….
user97 PLAN THE PARADE ROUTE HE NEEDS A CUP FOR THE BABY
y/ncrosby
y/ncrosby claire elizabeth crosby, youngest baby in the cup ✨ thanks for waiting till after daddy won to make your appearance
e.malkin71geno told you he win cup for baby
user17 the crosby girls are our good luck charm!
penguins We have her jersey ready and waiting!
#nina writes#sidney crosby#sidney crosby fic#sidney crosby imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl players#hockey fic#hockey imagine
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a carlando instagram au
(milestone edition)
liked by f1, carlossainz55 and others
landonorris 3 years! love you @carlossainz55
carlossainz55 Te amo 😘
liked by landonorris
fan1 i’m crying
fan2 HIS BACK?!!??!
lnfour couple goals!
fan3 my OTP 😭
liked by landonorris, carlosonoros and others
carlossainz55 Happy anniversary @landonorris. I love you 🥰
landonorris i love you more
carlossainz55 Impossible
fan1 IS THAT AN ENGAGEMENT RING ON LANDO????
scuderiaferrari Happy anniversary!
fan2 engagement ring? 👀
fan3 The bed photo omfg
liked by mclaren, landonorris and others
carlossainz55 My world champion 😘🧡 I am so proud of you for how far you have come!!
landonorris couldn’t have done it without you
liked by carlossainz55
f1 LANDOOOOOO
fan1 I’m crying
fan2 the last photo is so cute
mclaren That’s our boy 🥹
danielricciardo Yewwwwwww!!
liked by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and others
landonorris from strangers to teammates to friends to boyfriends and now husbands. i’m grateful for you every day. te amo ❤️
fan1 this is so beautiful
team_quadrant The husbands!
fan2 😭😭😭😭😭
fan3 I’m so happy
lewishamilton Congratulations you two! Blessed to have watched your love blossom over the years 🫶🏾
liked by landonorris, pierregasly and others
carlossainz55 Today I married my best friend. It was a long journey to get here but finally we made it. I love you mi Landito 😍
f1 We’re not crying, you are.
fan1 they’re the reason i believe in soulmates
charles_leclerc ❤️
fan2 I’m in tears I love them so much
fan3 OMFGDKDK CONFRATULAFIOJS!!!!!!
liked by carlossainz55, georgerussell63 and others
landonorris you were my first teammate in f1. you showed me the ropes. i know we’re spending the rest of our lives together but it’ll be weird not having you on the grid. congrats on your retirement baby, now you get to be my WAG 😁
fan1 i miss him already
carlossainz55 Thank you amor! Can not wait to be your arm candy 😎
fan2 no bc i can’t deal with him not being on the grid
fan3 Carlos hottest WAG #confirmed
scuderiaferrari Our smooth operator ❤️
liked by landonorris, scuderiaferrari and others
carlossainz55 I am so lucky to have watched you grow from a rookie, to a race winner and to a world champion. Congratulations on your retirement mi amor, I can not wait to see what the future holds for us ❤️
landonorris i love you
fan1 I DON’T WANT HIM TO GO
mclaren 🧡
fan2 all the best in the future lando!
fan3 🥺🥺🥺
liked by carlossainz55, lewishamilton and others
landonorris two becomes three 👶🏻 our baby girl was born at 4:55am on april 30th. she’s happy and healthy and we are absolutely in love!
fan1 omg 😭
danielricciardo I’m gonna corrupt this child
landonorris we know.
fan2 congratulations!!!!!
fan3 So cute! I wonder what her name is
f1 The newest member of the F1 family 🩷
liked by landonorris, fernandoalo_official and others
carlossainz55 Our little family is complete. Baby Norris-Sainz 30/04, 4:55am 🩷 Thank you to everyone for your good wishes!
fan1 she’s beautiful!!
charles_leclerc Tell her that her godfather loves her
carlossainz55 You are not her godfather
charles_leclerc @carlosainz55 ☹️
fan2 OMG she’s gorgeous!!!
fan3 girl dads confirmed
sebastianvettel Congratulations you two. Welcome to fatherhood! Seb x
liked by carlossainz55, carlosonoros and others
landonorris happy birthday to the best husband and daddy in the world 🫶🏼 we love you!
carlossainz55 Thank you mi vida, I love you both so much x
fan1 the best girl dad 🥺
danielricciardo Daddy
landonorris stop
fan2 The last photo omg
f1 Happy birthday @carlossainz55!
fan3 THEY’RE SO CUTE
#carlando#carlos sainz jr#lando norris#carlando instagram au#f1 instagram au#yes that is lando’s head on max’s body#also idk who made the edit of them at the wedding bc i found it on pinterest but let me know if it was you and i’ll tag you!!!#mine
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And They Were Roommates-Pt 2
Marinette woke to the piercing ring from her alarm clock. With a groan, she blindly hit her nightstand, trying to find the snooze.
“Marinette! If you snooze, you’ll be late again! Professor Brookes may like you, but she did threaten that one more tardy to the meetings and you’ll be fired!”
Tikki pulled at a strand of Marinette’s hair trying to pull the girl from her bed.
“Tikki it’s just five more minutes, please!”
“Dupen-Chang, Tikki wanted to wake you the nice way but if you don’t get your ass out of bed in the next five seconds, I will dump a cup of ice down your shirt.”
Marinette’s eyes flew open as she sat straight up, scowling at the sight of Chloe and Tikki high-fiving.
“I hate you two.”
“Mhm, now go shower. You look and smell like you just wrestled with pigs.”
Chloe’s nose scrunched up as she threw a towel at the girl. Marinette rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh, trudging to the bathroom.
“Chloe, will you pick me out an outfit?”
“Already done, now hurry up!”
Turning on the water, Marinette noticed the dark ink covering her skin. A beautiful robin stretched from her wrist to her elbow, every last detail drawn with care. She sucked in a sharp breath as she allowed her fingers to trace over the artwork. As she stepped into the shower, her eyes never left the picture, scared her soulmate would erase it before she had a chance to photograph it for later inspiration.
Turning off the water, she wrapped her towel around her body tightly before racing back to her room, almost diving for her phone. Her tongue stuck out of her mouth from the pure concentration of capturing the art at the right angle. Once she was sure it was photographed properly, she fumbled for the pen on her nightstand.
“I love waking up to your artwork, would you mind leaving it for the day?”
She stared intently at her hand, waiting for his response that couldn’t seem to come fast enough.
“Dupen-Chang! If you want a ride, you better be dressed in the next five minutes!”
Chloe's voice echoed through the apartment, snapping Marinette out of her trance. Within three minutes, she pulled on the dress Chloe had laid out and managed to pull her hair back in a messy bun, sticking a pen through it just in case. She was working on the heels when she finally felt the tingle.
“Sorry Angel, important interview today. I’ll leave you something tomorrow though. Promise”
Marinette let out a defeated sigh, but tried to push it out of her mind. After all, she couldn’t be mad, he had a life too, one he didn’t want to publicize and she could respect that. Putting the final touches on her outfit, she grabbed her purse, leaning down beside the dollhouse to allow Tikki to fly in.
“Dupen-Chang!”
“Coming Chloe!”
Tikki let out a giggle as Marinette rolled her eyes. It was going to be a long day.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
“Ms. Dupen-Chang, can I see you in my office please?”
Marinette internally groaned as she plastered a smile on her face. She picked up her design book, throwing a cover over the mannequin before she turned to walk toward the professor's office.
“What can I do for you Professor Brookes?” Her smile was sickly sweet as she stared down at the woman.
“Sit, please.” Brookes didn’t even look up from her paperwork, just made a vague gesture to the seat in front of her desk. After several minutes, she finally looked up, making a show of clicking her pen shut.
“Do you know why I called you in Marinette?”
“Because you were lonely and wanted someone to talk to?”
She offered the woman a pity smile, but Professor Brookes was not having it.
“You have refused every offer I have arranged for you in the past three months. Marinette, what did I tell you when you accepted this position in my work field for young entrepreneurs?”
Marinette let out a sigh, her eyes falling to the ground.
“It’s easier to work under a big name and break away than it is to build your own empire. But Professor-”
“Exactly. So tell me, why exactly have you refused not only Giorgio Armani and Karl Lagerfeld, but now I hear that Audrey Bourgeois has been after you for years now and you’ve refused her as well!”
Marinette bit her lip, trying her best to level her breathing before she snapped at the woman.
“With all due respect Professor Brookes, they don’t want my name on the designs. I can’t make a name for myself if everyone else is taking credit for my work. If there’s any way you can find me an internship under someone who will let me be myself I’d be more than glad to take them on.”
It was Professor Brookes turn to sigh as she slipped off her glasses, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“You’re a talented girl Marinette, nobody is denying that. But you just don’t understand how the business world works. This work field is for entrepreneurs who will listen to my advice, not do everything in their power to ignore it.”
“I understand if you want me to relinquish my position Professor Brookes. I’m sure you could fill it easily.”
The professor looked up, her face unreadable as she stared down the designer. Several minutes passed and a sinking feeling began to settle in Marinette’s gut.
“Ms. Dupen-Chang, what you’re asking me to do is to find you a sponsor. They’ll put their good name on the line for you, allow you to take credit for your work, and in return you’ll give them a portion of your profit. That’s anywhere from 5%-25% depending on how the sponsor operates. If I do this for you, you are going to have to up your production levels from one outfit a week to three, which means you’ll need to be here for three days instead of just one. Is this something you really want?”
Marinette’s heart pounded in her chest as she felt her body flood with relief.
“It is. I really want a sponsor.”
“Then it’s settled, I’ll need you to complete a portfolio including pictures of models wearing your designs and at least three test designs that I can send to possible contenders. The test designs allow them to view your work up close and personal to look at stitchwork and such. I’m assuming you already have models in mind seeing as you live with two of them?”
Marinette nodded, her heart feeling as if it were about to explode with joy.
“I won’t let you down Professor Brookes.”
The designer stood hastily, practically running back to her workstation.
“I’ll need all of that before the first day of spring semester Marinette!”
The professor's voice echoed in her ears but she was too stunned to care. She was getting a real chance and that meant she had to put everything into the next month. Sitting on the spinning chair, Marinette pulled out her phone to view the picture she had taken earlier. Admiring his sketch, an idea began to form in her head as she cleared the workstation, laying out her various pencils.
After a couple minutes of sketching, her phone began to buzz. At first she ignored it, trying to focus on her design, but after the third time, she finally gave in.
“Chloe, I’m sorry, I know I said 3 but it’s looking like 5 or 6 instead, I finally got the break I was hoping for.”
“Well that’s great Dupen-Chang, but you see, I have a guy here responding to the ad placed this morning and I just wanted to ask if we could interview him without you.”
Marinette sat down her pencil, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. She distinctly remembered emailing Julia for the spot, but she never sent in the ad. So either Julia’s newest boyfriend was applying or someone from the news team was.
“He’s not dating Julia is he?”
“I don’t know, let me ask. Hey! You! You’re not dating Julia, right? No? He said no.”
Marinette shook her head as she looked up at the ceiling, trying her best to send apologies to the boy.
“So?”
“Go ahead Chloe, that’s assuming you haven’t chased him off already. I’ll be ready to go in an hour.”
“Great, you’re the best. Congrats on your break, I’ll order some food from that italian restaurant near our apartment to celebrate.”
Before Marinette could even respond, the line went dead, leaving her to stare at her sketchbook in slight despair. The poor guy would be scared senseless before she even got a chance to meet him. With a sigh, she returned to her sketch, determined to finish at least one design before she left for the day.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Marinette waved bye to Professor Brookes before she made her way up the stairs to her apartment. She had texted both Chloe and Adrien several times, but neither came to pick her up, something she was going to lay into them for.
“Hey guys what’s the deal-”
She stopped in her tracks as her eyes couldn’t process the sight in front of her. Adrien was playing Ultimate Mecha Strike V, but that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem lied in the fact that some guy she had never seen before was battling him using her lucky controller.
“Hey Mari! Meet Damian Al Ghul, our new roommate!”
The guy stood up, offering his hand, but Marinette’s eyes weren’t focused on his. Instead, she watched in horror as he tossed her control backwards onto the couch, the force sending it flying to the floor.
“Damian huh?” She pushed past his outstretched hand to pick up her controller, examining it for any cracks or chips in the paint job.
“Yes?” He moved his hand to awkwardly rub the back of his neck, trying to figure out what he had done wrong.
Marinette sent a sour look at Adrien who only shrugged.
“Damian is a double major as well Mari, history and business, sound familiar?”
“I hear you are quite competent in both subjects.”
Marinette rolled her eyes, setting her controller on the coffee table before standing to face the man.
“I’m more than ‘competent’, I excel in both with a perfect 4.0 GPA.”
Damian scoffed sending a wave of fury through the girl. Just who did this guy think he was? Adrien watched the interaction, amusement clearly written on his face.
“So Mari, you want to play the winner of this round?”
“No, thanks. I’m going to study. My first final is on Tuesday, just ask Chloe to leave my food in the microwave, I’ll get to it later.”
Without another word, she marched back to her bedroom, shutting the door harder than she meant to. She pulled out her sketchbook, opening it to her unfinished design from earlier. Her pencil hovered over the page as she tried to remember the feeling she had earlier.
“Tikki, how did I manage to let him get under my skin in less than five minutes?”
She let out a groan as she fell backwards onto her bed as the kwamii let out a giggle.
“He’s got a unique personality, very straightforward Marinette. He almost reminds me of Chloe when I first met her.”
“That has to be it. PTSD from when I was 13 and Chloe was still a menace. I just don’t think I’m going to be able to get back into this design tonight.”
“That’s okay Marinette, let’s work on the last essay for your Grad school application!”
Marinette sat up to reach for her laptop, pulling up her browser that never closed. The Metropolis University website was still up, her application reading 95% complete. She clicked on the textbox and attempted to zoom in on the final question that had been bugging her for a week now.
‘How will you use your education to benefit the world?’
“Why does my degree have to benefit the world Tikki? I just want to do something I love, can’t that just be enough?”
“You’ll think of something Marinette, you always do!”
“Yeah,” the girl huffed out a puff of air, leaning forward to reread the question for the hundredth time. “I always do.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Around 10:30, Chloe stumbled into their room, tearing through her closest.
“Marinette, come clubbing with me and Adrikins! He needs a distraction for the night or two if you know what I mean.”
She let out a giggle as she pulled out her favorite dress, not even bothering to shut the bedroom door before throwing off her top.
“Chloe! We’re living with another guy now!”
“Yeah yeah Mari, you’re the only straight one here so there’s no problem!”
“Just because you’re not straight, doesn’t mean he can’t oogle at you.”
Chloe stood up, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the girl.
“Oogle? How old are you? 75?”
Marinette rolled her eyes as she stood up to pull her dress over her head. With her help, Chloe finished touching up her makeup.
“So you gonna come with us?”
Marinette shook her head at her, earning a pout from the blonde.
“Boo, you and Damian are both lame.”
Picking up her clutch, she opened it long enough for Pollen to fly in before shutting it tight.
“You losers have fun tonight staying home.”
“I think I’ll just barricade myself in here instead.”
“Whatever.”
Adrien appeared in their doorway, equally tipsy as he offered Chloe his hand. Marinette watched with worry as they made their way to the front door, both stumbling over their feet at every other step.
“Are you guys taking an Uber at least?”
“Yes mom!” They both looked at each other in shock before dissolving in a fit of laughter. Marinette rolled her eyes, waving goodbye as they slammed the front door shut.
With a sigh, she made her way to the microwave, hitting the reheat button for her pasta inside.
“Is that an every weekend occurrence?”
Marinette jumped, whipping around to find Damian leaning against the kitchen counter, his face expressionless.
“How about next time a warning like ‘Hey Marinette’ or ‘Whatcha doing?”
He didn’t reply, just remained stoic as he waited for her answer.
“No, it's not, just an occurrence whenever Adrien gets his heart broken. So try a monthly thing.”
He nodded in response, watching her carefully. Marinette shifted under his gaze, trying to keep her cool and not melt into a puddle. He may be a jerk, but he was still a hot jerk. The ding of the microwave severed the tension between them as she opened the drawer beside her, pulling out a fork. Sliding out her pasta, she didn’t even check to see if it had heated all the way through before she rushed past Damian and back to the safety of her room.
He didn’t follow, but she heard him let out a thoughtful hum before he made his way back to his room, shutting his door. Letting out a sigh, she stirred through her pasta, reaching for the pen beside her bed.
“How’d your interview go?”
She was halfway through her pasta when she felt the tingling.
“Aced it. How was your day Angel? I apologize for not writing sooner.”
She rolled her eyes at his formalness, trying not to let her smile get the best of her.
“I finally got my break. I’ll be getting a sponsor!”
Finishing the last bite of her pasta, Marinette weighed the risk of running into Damian again if she went to put up her dishes. Deciding it was too great, she set the plate on her nightstand, mentally preparing herself for the backlash she would get from hungover Chloe in the morning.
“That’s fantastic, I hope it works in your favor habibti.”
A shiver ran down her spin as her cheeks flushed red. She had used google translate a few times of the names he gave her and was surprised to find the Arabic traces. When she asked him about it, he just brushed it off to being from his mother’s side, never bringing it up again. Picking up her pen, she etched a small Robin on her arm, leaving a space beside it to write;
“Your pictures always inspire my designs. I can’t wait to see what you leave me tomorrow.”
A minute hadn’t even passed before he responded.
“If you wash your arm off now, you won’t have to wait.”
Her heart picked up pace as she rushed into the bathroom, scrubbing furiously at her arm. She returned to her bed, toweling off the few wet spots as she watched in awe as pen strokes tickled her skin.
“He’s so talented Marinette!”
Marinette smiled as she watched his delicate art slowly cover her arm, her mind drifting from the stress of the day.
“He really is Tikki, he really is.”
Tag List:
@damianette-is-life @ladybug-182 @fusser90 @thestressmademedoit @dast218 @thezestywalru @jardimazul @olynix @dorkus-minimus @xahriia @kris-pines04 @urbanpineapplefarmer @moonlightstar64 @itsmeevie01 @little-lady-bird @alexandriamw @lozzybowe @emmdaenovice @loysydark @toodaloo-kangaroo @jessigurl-design @aegyobutpsycho2 @stark-morgoona @kris-pines04 @rebecarojas07
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HALO: SHADOWS OF REACH — A REVIEW BY A SOMEWHAT ENTHUSIASTIC FAN
Alright, so after forever and to much demand (okay, that's a lie, no one asked for this), I've finally finished my review of the newest installment in the Halo novels: Shadows of Reach. Obviously, there are spoilers inbound.
RATING: 8/10
This could've easily been a ten if not for some parts of the story that irked me, but overall a fun read— I'd read it again.
A VERY LONG SUMMARY (OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD, SO PLEASE TELL ME IF I MESSED SOMETHING UP)
Welp, the first half is just John being very emo about Cortana and pretty much ignoring his teammates' emotional states (a large part of the book is that, actually), and introducing old wise man Major Van Houte, no nonsense Crew Chief Stella Mukai (who made John laugh, huzzah!!) and Lieutenant Maks "Hotshot kid" Chapov (don't get too attached). They perform intricate aerial maneuvers and the likes to avoid being spotted, but they are and they crash.
After a couple close encounters with Banished banshees that act like Keeper banshees for some odd reason, three-quarters of Blue Team gets their cans kicked by actual Banished banshees and get separated from Linda-058 and Special Crew (which are the flight crew btw). Whilst heavily wounded, they are held at gunpoint by the Viery Militia who also make fun of them while at gunpoint. (Rude, but also very funny). Militia Leader Lady assumes that they're there to help them liberate Reach (and refuses to let John tell her otherwise) and gets pissy about it afterwards - but she's under a lot of pressure, so it's fine - and Fred is Concussed™, leading to ridicule and shade from John and Kelly for pretty much the rest of the book.
There's a lot of stuff in the middle about the Viery Militia, so hightlight reel: John manages to ask his doc a personal question (Go, John!), and he and Kelly are driven to meet the commanders of the Militia by sweet Bella Disztl, five time winner of the Tantalus-10,000 (don't worry if you forget, they bring it up in every scene she's in). I like Bella, partly because she looks like my OC, but in general. Unfortunately, she falls prey to the Halo driver curse and bites it later on in the book.
Despite a lot of angst and distrust once the commanders find out BT is not there to help free Reach, they decide to take the Armory from the Banished and call in reinforcements from Infinity.
As they launch the assault on the Banished armory, everyone without MJOLNIR (and Chapov and Van Houte who are out of range) gets knocked out due to lack of breathable levels of oxygen in the tunnels (and they talk about the brain damage that's caused when your oxygen is cut off for a few minutes, which makes me and all the other RvB fans sad) and the Spartans are forced to do it alone, shocker. Chapov saves the day with an innovative tactic to take down massive amounts of Banished vehicles, go Chapov!
We finally get to see Halsey (who finally has a prosthetic arm), Lasky (who likes to say heck) and Palmer (who is still Very Done with basically everyone), so that's cool.
There's a second attack on the armory as the Banished try to take back what is theirs, and here is where Bella dies :( But, on the other hand, a hundred and twenty Spartans (which is still super shocking to me) save the day. Palmer and Blue Team have a very odd interaction wherein Palmer is treated like she's in the wrong despite being perfectly reasonable?? (I'm just going to read this part one more time because the first time around was at 2AM) Anyways, Palmer takes over freeing Reach and the Spartans go to the Highlands to finish their actual mission.
So, I've neglected to mention Castor's arc in the book because it's basically all the same thing, so highlight reel: There's a badass Sangheili called 'Gadogai who works for Escharum. This dude is the right hand man of Atriox, aka the big boss. Anyways, Deukalion (where are my TW fans at?!) and Ballas are dokabs of two of the other Banished clans who are fighting over the pioneers' land, like a bunch of bitches, instead of doing their jobs and Castor's really mad about it. Castor continually demonstrates his cleverness but as always misses a key factor and his plans get screwed. Also, Orsun's son is around, so that's cool. There's lots of Jiralhanae politics and crap that I'm not really going to go into here. Also, Veta Lopis and the Ferrets are there with their kick-ass hairstyles. Escharum shows up and Castor's ploy to let BT guide them to this Portal to the Ark finally works out and things are going good for the Keepers' Leader.
BT finally makes it to the mountains, and after a fun aerial chase, Chapov is mortally wounded and manages to take out, like, four Banshees before he dies. The Banished go for the Portal while BT rush for SWORD base, there's another large scale fight with Jetpack Brutes and Longswords and Broadswords, but BT makes it to SWORD base, and Fred goes check out the corridor to the Portal (which they get into after a lot of events). They grab three cryo-bins and a box with a sabre symbol on it, and John manages to mess up his wounded legs and is very nice to Kalmiya's fragment. Sweet.
The Freta reunion is painfully brief, and leaves Fred with confusion and a message capsule. The Portal is opened, the Keepers turn on the Banished, but ultimately no consequences are reaped (shocker) and Gadogai jumps ship over to the Keepers. Cortana is alerted by the Portal and a Guardian is showing up and everyone hauls ass away from Reach.
Captain Veronica Dare is still alive (yay) and gives Fred part of the message because "it's none of ONI's business" which is amazing and awesome and once again, yay. Halsey is pained by how much Blue Team had gotten beaten up (which I am still confused by) and Palmer and the rest of the UNSC forces are stranded on Reach.
FINAL THOUGHTS
It was definitely lots of fun, I'll give Denning that. They finally brought in that slipspace crystal from First Strike which I've been bitching about forever, which is cool.
However, lots of elements from his previous books touch over in this one, like continually getting the badass, untouchable Spartans absolutely pwned and the subtle traces of sexism surrounding his treatment of Kelly, Linda and now Palmer get on my nerves.
One thing that bites at me was that Kelly got shot in the goddamn chest and she was just doing perfectly fine. Her coping with it was not shown at all. It gets more and more obvious with each book that Denning is pretty much clueless on what to do with either of our badass Spartan ladies, which is discouraging, especially compared to the amazing force-of-nature that is Veta Lopis!
And I really didn't like the fact that John was just sad about Cortana. I mean, there's no actual conflict about the fact that Eviltana (who I will always think about as a different person from my blue bby) is a mass-murdering fanatical bitch. Like she's just misunderstood and not an actual dictator. And he doesn't seem to give a damn about any of the Spartans obvious signs of trauma over any of this stuff. He just dismissed Kelly's valid concern about saying Cortana's name, which is kind of OOC, but okay.
That being said, they better not make another Cortana model, because that was something Actual!Cortana was very messed up about; being replaced like that. If they do, they better make it very clear that she's a different entity, like Kalmiya.
Congrats and thank you for reading through all of this stuff! Hope you enjoyed, and feel free to hit me up regarding anything Halo!
#gabi reads shadows of reach#halo#shadows of reach#john-117#master chief#kelly-087#linda-058#fred-104#catherine halsey#tom lasky#sarah palmer#cortana#the banished#troy denning#veta lopis
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WINNER!
Congrats to @sabinaemiri (IG handle)
The devteam appreciation month has been wonderful! Loved to see our newest team members getting their own fanart and recognition (: Tomorrow we will reveal the December Challenge. This one is back to being more universal and playful. I’m sure more than one will love it very much ;)
Considerations on the podium in the comments (soon).
#monster prom#monsterprom#visual novel#indie game#indie games#datingsim#monsterpromchallenge#art challenge#monsterpromfanart#monstersona
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So at the end, Sawyer is our newest phone fling winner. Congrats for the Sawyer fans!
Despite Lotus in seconds, (And wanna) she’s actually pretty good. Hope to see the bundle to buy.
SO aside that, there’s a new event log in bonus going on with Sirina (At least for me.) I didn’t have her cause I’m late in the party so if you have something different, please let me know what you got instead if you already got her.
Once I’ve got her, I’ll post her poses and screen shots here.
Third, I’m almost done with the calendar boxer themed bois... Despite not having Stirling’s yet cause the game won’t let us yet, I’ll post them here BUT don’t report it cause they’re BOXERS!!!!
Screen shot’s from CRUSH CRUSH.
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Meet our newest colourway Rusted Cargo 🚢 Thanks to everyone who suggested a name for this colourway, they were all great ideas! Congrats to @modernfibre who is the winner (pm me your address 😁). If you were wanting to grab a skein, these are now in the shop ❤️ https://www.instagram.com/p/B7igphxnGmK/?igshid=1halg4ldkrx41
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Brothers befriended? Brothers beside? Brothers... befuddled :V
And we have our winner! Congrats, anon!
BB is the acronym for our newest AU, Brothers Befriended!
An AU designed by @nightmares06 and @borrowedtimeandspace, we actually decided to go for a story that starts more along the lines of a story from The Borrowers universe, instead of Sherlock.
This story will start off with the Winchesters, who are currently living in London on their own, deciding to move into a flat where there’s plenty of empty space and no pets. As it so happens, this family happens to be the Bakers, Stan and his four other brothers– Simon, Dylan, Seamus and Levi.
A special note for this AU– Changing things up in a big way, we decided to take the age range of the characters and skew them. Normally in our other AUs, Dean is one year younger than Stan, who is the youngest of the Bakers. In Brothers Befriended, Dean is the oldest in the group at 17, and Stan is the youngest, at only 10. All of the other Bakers have been aged down like Stan, leaving Simon (who is the oldest of the Baker brothers) at 16 years old.
In the typical fashion of a Borrowers crossover, these two sides are about to meet, and we’ll soon find out how the Bakers handle the discovery that their flat has two borrowers living in it!
A special sneak peek of the AU will post later tonight or Saturday, so stay tuned for more!
– A wee young Stan Baker, by @mogadeer
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Congrats to our newest top 10 @hellcityhotties Ohio 2019 winner @destinyreneeboggs 💋 see you at the main stage for a fun weekend with the @hellcityhotties ! 🔥Hell City Tattoo Fest @hell_city Columbus, Ohio this April 26th - 28th, 2019 at the Hyatt Regency downtown Columbus, Ohio! 🔥 @hell_city #hellcityhotties #hellcityhotties2019 #hellcity #hellcity2019 #hellcityhottiesohio #hellcitytattoofest #hellcityhottie #tattoomodels #columbus #ohio #hotties (at Hell City Tattoo Convention Columbus Ohio) https://www.instagram.com/hell_city/p/Bv4r8gQBTeU/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=13h1y9kj51fpm
#hellcityhotties#hellcityhotties2019#hellcity#hellcity2019#hellcityhottiesohio#hellcitytattoofest#hellcityhottie#tattoomodels#columbus#ohio#hotties
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Dei’s Treasured Trophy
Author’s Note: This is my entry to the English Division and Short Story Category of the 68th Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature. This is a draft story years ago but I cannot proceed with it yet because I am looking for a strong character profile. Until this early 2018, I decided Maine is the fitting inspiration for that character. She knew I will join Palanca as I told her the first time we met. Afterwards in our second meeting, I showed her the receiving copy of my submitted entry. I now wholeheartedly share this story to you after the committee announce the winners. Enjoy reading! - RJ T. Vargas
Synopsis
To describe Dei, she is a hardworking freelance worker, responsible student, and loving daughter and sister. She balances her time between her all responsibilities no matter how busy she is. Out of all her priorities, taking care of Rionne, her younger sister, is the most important one for her,
A memory from last year still haunts Dei for the fear it may happen again. She does everything she can to prevent it. She shall do whatever it takes to protect everyone she cares for, most especially her sister.
Fear is a deceptive emotion Dei has to deal with. Either it may immobilize her from carrying out the things she must accomplish, or it can turn into a driving force for her to gain the strength she needs to overcome the challenges.
This short story is an attempt to raise more awareness and fight against the stigma about an issue. Dei’s Treasured Trophy shares values about resilience, self-love, friendship, family ties, and faith in God.
Dei’s Treasured Trophy
“CONGRATS for your great performance in Olympics Ann! Ibang level ka na talaga!!!!THAT’S MY BESTFRIEND!!!!Share your stories about your games and experiences sa bonding natin ha. I miiiiiss youuuu! Let’s catch up soon please!”
Dei types her message and presses the enter button. Last time she saw her was a week before her month-long training in South Korea then Ann flew to Hong Kong for the competition. Her best friend replies, “As soon as we get back home, promise! See you soon Dei! (^_^)”. It’s amusing how Ann still adds emoticon even when most online users choose emoji nowadays.
She switches the tab from Facebook to a WordPress login page. She finishes her deadline for one of her regular freelance projects. Her blog posts about the top 10 most romantic Coldplay songs is due tonight. Dei transfers her revised draft and saves it there for pending review of her editor. It was hard for her choosing her top 10, as she loves all their songs. Also, she is a huge fangirl of Chris Martin. ”Iba talaga feels ng mga kanta nila!Oh I hope Coldplay comes back here…” she mutters to herself.
She then opens Audacity and polishes an audio file by reducing the noise background and adding more echo. No matter how confusing the uploaded files are in the track control panel, she handles everything like a pro. She saves and sends the audio file to a client who hired her as a voice-over talent.
Her spare time for this month is more than what she scheduled first. Dei wonders if she can do an additional freelance project. She opens her Facebook and scrolls down to see posts in a group of local freelance talents searching for auditions and casting. She finds a workshop offered by an entertainment agency. A director Dei will never forget in her life will conduct it. She has been a talent appearing in commercials and TV shows. Several months has passed but she still remembers his response after she told that director she is just an extra in those projects.
He asked her experiences because he mentioned her familiarity despite her lack of self-confidence. The director likes her wit and spontaneity in an impromptu comedic act she did for her audition.
“Anak, support ang tawag sayo, hindi extra.Those scenes need your role as a support to be complete. I see a future phenomenal star in you. We can further improve your talents once you believe more in yourself.”
He was willing to train her under his talent pool. Dei wanted to say yes and commit that time because it is one of her dreams to enter the showbiz industry. However, she is still an incoming fourth year student in college that time around. She cannot afford to fill her schedule more than what she can do and what her time allows.
“Well, I cannot get sad over a missed opportunity. Priorities first!”She browses her own YouTube channel. It is one of her so-called happy distraction when she feels down or is about to feel that way.It has been a long time since her last posted video.
“I miss sharing more videos to my ten supporters.” She laughs loudly.
Dei positions her camera with the tripod. She acts like a model in front of the mirror. Her full bangs almost covers her expressive dark brown eyes. Her black hair is an inch past her shoulders. She thinks of dropping by a salon to trim her hair next week. Her brown and fair complexion epitomizes a morena Filipina beauty. Her sunshine smile shows her excitement for her next video.
She tries to mimic first different artists’ voices and body languages. Then, she impersonates Jessa Zaragosa, Shakira, and Jaya as she sings their songs. Next, she records herself dubsmashing to Kris Aquino’s lines. She gets distracted whenever she laughs hard so she pauses first the recording. Dei decides to record everything in one go for each personality. It takes a longer time for her editing the raw videos because she finds herself funny for her all out on-cam performances. Indeed, she loves making people happy and this is one of her unique ways to do so.
In the middle of uploading her newest video in YouTube, Skype notifies an incoming call.Their parents calling her. Dei expects this call as their parents do it every day.
She answers the call and she’s thrilled to tell them a good news. Her parents are smiling as she sees them on her laptop screen despite of their tired and drowsy eyes. She kisses and touches them through the screen. “Hello po Ma! Pa! I love you so much! I miss you po!” She wishes to take away their tiredness with her simple gestures.
“Dei, how is our ever responsible daughter? Do you even have enough hours of sleep? Do you rest between your busy schedule? Sobrang dami mo kasing ginagawa.” Her mother cannot hide her concerns.
“Of course po Ma! I need my beauty rest so I should not be stressed with school and my freelance projects.Di po ako pwede magmukhang haggard!”
Her father laughs as if he did not laugh for a long time. “We feel like we are with you whenever we video call. By the way Dei, what is the good news you want share? You chat about it last time.”
She tells them to wait for a minute. Returning with a small trophy, she exclaims “Here it is Pa, Ma! This is from our college department. I can’t believe I am one of the three President’s Lister! They gave a trophy to each of us. Umaasenso di ba? Di na lang po sila pa-certificate.They said not every semester they have President’s Lister so this is how they celebrate it with us. This is my treasured trophy!”
“We are so proud of you sweetie! Keep up the good work! This is why we support your freelance projects. You know your priorities well, Dei. You told us before about how difficult are your school works. Here you are now! Your sacrifices are rewarded! Ang galing at sipag mo talaga!” her father beams with much pride.
“Thank you po, Ma!Pa!Uhmmm…May I…May I ask something?”
“What is it?”
“I know I asked this last time but…when will you come back home? If only Dubai is just a tricycle away, I and Rionne will visit you there every day.”
“Dei…” her mother tries to smile as she holds back her tears. If only they have a choice, the couple will stay with their two daughters. “Dei, we love to be there with you and Rionne but we still need to save more. We used almost all our savings for the medical bill of your sister last year. We want to go home too, believe us…but I hope you will understand.”
“How is your little sister doing recently? Do not forget her medicines. Ask her if she feels anything wrong and tell us if you need more help. We will do everything to prevent what happened last year, whatever it takes.” Her father gives her assurance.
“I always take care of Rionne, Ma, Pa. Don’t worry about her. She knows when she must take her medicines. I don’t even need to remind her about it. She is doing well in school. Her grades are within line of nine. Her weekends are filled with either her extra-curricular activities or bonding with her friends or with me. She enjoys doing everything! I’m happy hearing stories of how her day went. If she feels bad about something, she opens up to me. She fulfills her promise of not keeping any secret from me. If only she knows you will call this time, she will not attend her meeting in Student Supreme Council. She misses you too so much! ”She tells them honestly about her sister’s current situation.
“Thank you for taking care of her Dei no matter how busy you are. You always make time for people you love. We are so blessed to have you and Rionne as our daughters.”
They talk for hours until she did not notice her video is uploaded in YouTube.
***
“Every time you look at that trophy, Ate, you’re very proud of that achievement and clean the dusts off every week. Ang cute mo! Hahahaha!” She teases her Ate Dei when she sees her cleaning in their living room. She offers to help her but her older sister just requested her to wash the dishes, into which she follows. Rionne enters her room after her sister cleaned their entire house. She wants to finish her school works and other tasks in her extra-curricular activities.
After Dei cleaned, she knocks at her sister’s room. Rionne says she can come in. She sees her sister with her books, handouts, and other paperwork while she keeps away the seven book-series about themagical journey of the chosen boy to defeat a dark lord. Her Ate Dei gave that book set.
Rionne sits down and focuses on her laptop. Maybe she is finishing a schoolwork, as Dei thought. She bought the book set last week and her sister already told her the summary of every book this morning. Her sister even delivered lines, word by word, from her favorite scenes and characters.
“How did she finish it all? Didn’t she just prepared and competed for her inter-school general knowledge quiz bee last week?” Dei cannot imagine how her sister, a junior highschool student, balances her time as if she is a working adult. Then, she recalls Rionne’s doctor told her before it is normal for her to excel in multitasking, a common ground of those with her medical condition. Dr. Mejia even emphasized they are natural achievers and majority of them have high IQ but they need to improve more their EQ.
Suddenly, A loud hit distracts Dei.
Rionne hits her table hard with her first that it surprises them both. She is used seeing her sister blaming herself with her mistakes but the pains never lessen every time it happens. When things do not go well according to what she expects, she do things impulsively which she regrets later on. Dei wishes her words and hugs are more than enough to remind her sister that her worth is more than all her achievements combined and every setbacks she encountered. Deiloves Rionne so much for who her sister is.
Dei puts away her other books. Her sister’s collection includes fictions from contemporary Filipino writers like Grace Chong, Merlinda Bobis, Miguel Syjuco, Cristina Pantoja-Hidalgo, Dean Francis Alfar and from Filipino classic writers such as Jose Garcia Villa, Nick Joaquin, Liwayway Arceo, and Lualhati Bautista. She also has non-fiction books about self-help and financial literacy from Bro. Bo Sanchez and Chinkee Tan, respectively.
Dei scans her sister’s laptop and notices she just posted a question in a Facebook group about photography and another opened tab is Venus Raj’s testimonial about her Christian faith. Her sister is very open to her after what happened last year. It was her doctor’s advice to read her online posts. It was their parents’ request to see her browsing history given if her sister shows unusual behavior. She opens a recently closed tab, sees an email, asks permission if she can read it. Her sister nods. The email is a short notice of thanking Rionne for her participation but they regret to say her sister did not make it in the cut-off for their school’s final selection of their debate team. Now she understands what made her hit her fist so hard on the table.
Dei looks over the room trying to find anything, which can help her, to make her sister feel better. She stops at the books she bought for Rionne. It is her sister’s first set of books from a foreign author. Her sister placed them at the center space of the cabinet turned to a mini-library. She can’t forget how much her sister loves to have it but the complete set is too expensive for her. It was just like yesterday when her sister jumped out of joy when she gave it on her birthday.
For Rionne, she saw again how generous and thoughtful her Ate Dei is. For Dei, she bought the books not only because her sister wants it but because she always sees the magic in her as she excels in things she does because of her passion. She sees the magic in her heart because she never loses her sincerity, goodness, and faith in God…despite of everything that happened last year.
“Last year? Why am I still thinking about it Wala na yun! Rionne is okay now. We are happy now...”she tries to pacify her own fears.
She approaches her sister slowly. She needs to make sure first her sister wants to be hugged. At times, Rionne pushes her away not because her sister likes to do it but because it is one of the impulsive reactions of her extreme mood swings brought by her medical condition.
Dei shakes her head and reminds herself,“I must pull myself together! This is not the time to be scared! Rionne needs me more now!”
She needs to be strong for her because they do not have anyone with them. She needs to be strong because the situation will get worse if she gives up. She needs to be strong because she loves her so much, she cannot bear to see her sister getting more hurt and angry.
She pats her sister’s head gently. Her sister looks at her and hugs her so tight. Rionne cries on her older sister’s shoulder. That is her haven and refuge. It is and always her Ate Dei who comforts her immediately in times she crashes down in her own thoughts and feelings. She keeps on reminding her sister she is doing her best. She is very gentle to Rionne. Slowly, her sister calms down and stops overthinking.
Unexpectedly, her sister breaks the silence and changes her tone. “You are so sweet and kind Ate! Whoever you choose among those guys who tries to win your heart, he’s such a lucky one!”
Dei laughs and pinches her sister’s cheek. “Dear, your Ate Dei has a lot of priorities and lovelife is not included in it! Hahahaha! Pinapamigay mo na ba ako? I am happy with my life now and I do not need a guy to complete me. Bonus na lang pag may ibigay si Lord.I am happy chasing my dreams. I am happy with our family. I am happy you are here with me, Rionne.”
“The way you call my name is my favorite unlike how everyone else calls me, Ate. It rhymes with lion and your pronunciation feels like I am a royalty.” her sister chuckles.
“Out of everything I said, that’s the only thing you heard? Hahaha!” Dei giggles and hugs her sister. She loves her so much. She realizes she loves her more after she wasn’t home last year for two months. Her giggles and smiles turned to a neutral expression. Fear crawls in her heart. If only it was that easy to forget why Rionne was away from them for two months... She will make sure it will not happen again. She will cross all the oceans just for her sister.
“Lord, please make that the last time…Do not ever let it happen again…”Dei prays as she pleads in her deepest thoughts.
****
“That is the end of my report. Do you have questions? Any clarification?” Dei tries to stand confidently in front of their class. Her blockmates do not have a single clue about her cold and uneasy hands. She prepared enough for this report but she is not sure if she did well. She believes she gave her best but this report is different because their professor has a higher standard compared to what she was used to with her other subjects.
Dei feels awkward with the deafening silence in their room that she can hear the AC unit and ticking of the room’s clock. Her blockmates are active participants but she feels they are too timid now to share their ideas. She clears her throat and asks instead about their personal goal in relation to self-actualization according to Abraham Maslow’s theory, which was about her report. One of them raises his hand and shares his ultimate dream to serve his hometown by becoming a successful businessman. She nods and smiles as he answers because she admires his generosity.
”Parang autistic talaga yang nagmamarunong na yan. Ang bipolar ng mood.”Dei hears someone from the front row whispers to his seatmate. It gets into her nerve but she maintains her composure. She says thank you to her classmate who shared his personal goal.
“Guys, I want to share you one of my personal goals. I want to be a vocal and active mental health advocate with my own foundation to raise awareness about this issue and fight the stigma in our country. I dream that one day, no one will be scared to consult experts as people might say they are going crazy. I want to see that day we will validate everyone’s feelings to prevent triggering them. We may start doing this by avoid using words like autistic and bipolar to mock and insult those we don’t like.Please, let’s be more sensible in our words.” She says it all firmly without mentioning about her blockmates whom she heard those words from.
“Ms. Dei Archangel, I like how you delivered your report even if you did not discuss further the other details. Nevertheless, what I like most from what I heard today is your mental health advocacy. Make that dream of having your own foundation into a reality.”their professor commends Dei.
****
Rionne storms in their living room as soon as she comes home from school. Dei hears her ranting about the periodical exam she failed in the subject she struggles most after her adviser talks to her privately. Her sister expects a low score but not below the passing mark. In her entire student life, that is her first time to fail an exam. It shocks Rionne because she did not see it coming.
She sees her sister’s eyes turn berserk, as if this is another person and not her sister at all.She recalls all the painful words she heard long before. Her sister curses her classmates and yells angrily how insensitive they are for smart-shaming her and calling her names.
Rionne becomes hysterical and impulsive. Dei sees how she grabs that trophy and flower vase. She tries to stop her but her sister throws both on the wall. Its sharp pieces scratches and wounds her. She runs toward her sister to prevent hurting herself more. Her sister shouts the words she is scared to hear the most.
“I AM A FAILURE!!!! I AM USELESS!!!!! I WANT TO DIE!!!!!”
Rionne becomes uncontrollable. Dei did not feel her tears flowing when she sees her sister gets hurt, scared, confused, and mad at herself.She wipes her tears and tries to calm down her sister in her arms. She hugs her tightly even if her sister pushes her away. She remains strong even if she is hurting, physically, emotionally, and mentally. She endures it all rather than not to see her sister again in their home for two months.This is the non-negotiable promise she plants in her heart and she will never compromise it no matter what happens.
In the middle of pacifying Rionne, painful memories last year floods back in Dei’s mind. It was as if everything happened yesterday. She remembers clearly how her sister broke down because a friend she trusts backstabbed her. They cannot calm her down easily.
She started to hurt herself. Minutes later, she punches her parents and Dei. For the next hours, she tried to rush out of their front door. She keeps on shouting she wants to die. She wanted to end it all by running towards a fast moving car. Their father hugged her tight despite all the struggles she is doing to fight against him.
For Dei, it felt like an eternal torture to see her family that way until her sister tires herself. Their mother caresses her hair and hugs her until she calms down. Dei kisses her on the forehead and says, “Everything will be alright dear Rionne. Sleep and rest first.”
Their parents contacted her psychiatrist. Dei saw how her parents cried and hugged each other as if the world turned its back on them. She asked why and what did he said, but they did not answer her.
“Dei, we will go to Dr. Mejia. He wants to see Rionne as soon as possible.” Endless questions and thoughts run across Dei’s mind but she cannot do anything except to oblige to her parents’ instruction.They waited for her to wake up and give her the first aid medication the psychiatrist recommended to help stabilize her mood in a breakdown episode.
Inside the clinic of Dr. Mejia, he talked first to her sister. It went for more than 30 minutes perhaps, as Dei estimated. She was outside and became more impatient while waiting. She stood up and walked back and forth in the hallway. She got more anxious because the regular check-ups with Rionne’s psychiatrist do not usually take this long.He then asked for their parents in the clinic. Dei wanted to barge in that door separating her and her sister whom she feels is terrified silently. She wanted to know everything. What treatment will the psychiatrist give her this time around?
At last, after more than an hour of waiting, Dr. Mejia asked Dei to be inside the clinic and sit beside Rionne. Her sister hugged her, turned to her doctor, and said, “Can my Ate be with me there? If she is not allowed to stay with me, then please let her visit me at least every week…” Tears formed in her sister’s eyes.
Confusion, shock, fear, and betrayal---Dei does not know what exactly she feels at that moment or if she feels everything at once.She loses her temper and firmly said, “Where will you bring her??!! What is going here??!! CAN YOU JUST PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING RIGHT NOW??!!” Her emotions took its toll on Dei. If there is something worst to happen, then she needs to know it right at that moment.
Dr. Mejia waited for her to calm down. When she came back to her senses, he explained in details. “Dei, we need to treat Rionne in a psychiatric facility. Her bipolar disorder becomes full blown with the recent event that triggered her. I cannot guarantee how long she must stay there because it will depend if she responds better to the treatments we will give. We need to do this to observe her round the clock to provide her immediate attention. Do not worry, the facility has trained and kind staffs. They have different worthwhile activities on a daily, weekly, and monthly routine. Your family can visit her regularly within the hours they allow. If you have questions and concerns, you may ask now or contact me in the mobile number I gave your parents.”
Dei’s heart sank. The thought of not seeing Rionne for a day already worried and scared her to death. Who will take care of her? Can they handle her if she has her episodes of breaking down and impulsiveness? Will they know if she is depressed like how she feels her sister just by looking at her in one glance? Do they have the patience to comfort her in her worst and darkest days? She wanted to refuse. She wanted to shout and say they will just bring her home.
However, the harsh reality slapped her in that moment---their family cannot take care of Rionne’s worsening mental health condition. That was why her psychiatrist recommended admitting her there as the best or probably the only option left for them.
Dr. Mejia continued, “People with bipolar disorder are a gift for everyone but they see themselves as a curse for themselves. Their extreme mood swings can affect their normal lives which is why we need to balance it. They love sharing their time and efforts doing things they love and for the people they love.” He looked at her sister and smiled, “In most cases, those diagnosed like Rionne are achievers. They want to aim high every time and make people happy. Failing on that exam hurts her so much and triggers her condition, so she feels it is the end for her. The bright side though is even if there is no known and proven cure yet for bipolar disorder, treatments are available for them to live a normal and productive life. Stories of successful personalities with bipolar disorder such as Demi Lovato inspires her.
“Dei, Rionne aims to have a balance life. She believes she will overcome her mental health challenges. Let us give your sister a fighting chance.” Dr. Mejia said those words as if it was so easy for her to just let go of her sister and allow other people to take care of her. It did not sit well with her. She wants to refuse but she cannot think of a better way to treat her sister.
Rionne hits her chest lighty with her fist. “Ako pa! I can do that Ate Dei! Don’t worry about me. I will behave there so I can go home soon and we can bond again!”
Dei did not hold back her tears anymore. She cried while smiling and hugged her sister. She feels ashamed of herself for not trusting Rionne enough. If her sister is this strong, then she needs to be stronger too for her. She agreed to the option after seeing the courage in her sister’s eyes.
For the following days, it has been a regular routine for their family to visit her every day. On weekdays, they went there together in the psychiatric facility. Their parents wanted to see her every single day but their free time is only after their office hours. The visiting hours in the psychiatric facility only allow from morning to afternoon.
On weekdays, Dei went there after her classes. On other days, she was too busy with her school works but she still found ways to visit even if she needs to leave earlier from the psychiatric facility.
Rionne shared different stories based on what happened that day. She told Dei excitedly how it was easy to be friends with most of the patients in the psychiatric facility. She hated how she must drink her medicines every morning, lunch, and night. She enjoyed the activities too like outdoor and board games, arts and crafts sessions, acting workshop, dancing lessons. On some days, she ran towards Dei crying because she said other patients inside shouted at her and they want to pick a fight against her. There are times too when she apologized to her Ate Dei for not behaving well that is why the staff need to isolate her from the other patients until she calms down.
“When will I come home Ate? I miss papa, mama, and of course, I miss you so much!” Not a single day that passed whenever Dei visits, Rionne asked this question with much longing and impatience.
“Soon…just promise me you are behaving every day here so Dr. Mejia can see you are ready to come home soon.” Dei smiled at her with much love and assurance.
In all her visits to Rionne, she was all smiles in listening to her story. She was thrilled too sharing her own experiences, as if catching up with a friend she did not see for years even if she visits her sister every day. Whenever the staff reminded them visiting hours is over, her sister always asked for just few seconds to hug her and tell her she loves her Ate Dei so much. She hugs her back and sees her going inside. A thick metal door closed wherein she feels the patients are like are prisoners. One of the staff explained to her psychiatric facilities need that design for the doors in case anyone breaks down and tries to escape. The staff lets visitors watch the patients through the CCTV monitor. Dei refused to look at it because she does not want to have a memory of her sister inside the psychiatric facility.
As soon as she left the main gate of the psychiatric facility, she cried silently. She failed containing those overwhelming emotions even if she was already used to that exhausting set-up. She did not know anymore at that moment if those tears are out of longing, pain, regret, or hatred at herself for not protecting her sister enough. What she was sure of is she will never give up because Rionne herself is fighting with all she got. Indeed, Dei is the greatest pretender whenever she visits her sister.
This routine went on for days, weeks, and two months.
Finally, Dr. Mejia called them. He called them every week to give update about their youngest daughter’s progress and lapses. That time though, was a different phone call. “Mr. and Mrs. Archangel, Rionne responded positively to the treatments we gave her. In fact, I earlier estimated she might stay for at least six months. Her determination to be well and desire to come back home sped up her treatment. You may settle her bill in the psychiatric facility so she will be discharged within this day.”
Their family went hurriedly to the psychiatric facility to tell the good news to Rionne. Their parents went to the billing department. Few minutes later, they came out with worried look on their faces. The bill cost nearly half a million pesos. They can pay for the amount but that means they have to sell their hard-earned property in the province of their parents and use their savings. Without any hesitation, they started calling their friends who said before they wanted to buy that property.
“Dei, please stay here first. We will find means to get Rionne out and bring her home within this day.” Their parents gave her assurance.
Dei went to her sister first while waiting for their parents. “Uuwi na tayo mamaya! You are brave and strong Rionne! Dr. Mejia said many good things about you. Ate is so proud of you, dear!”
“What did I tell you Ate! Ako pa! At last, I can come home!! Yaaaay!! We will watch movies, cook meals, bike around the village, or just sleep all day long! Hahaha!” Her sister hugged her so tight she felt she was about to be squeezed.
“I promise you Ate Dei, I won’t come back here again as patient. If I will return here, I want to help others enduring bipolar disorder too like me.” Rionne beamed with much confidence.
“Yes, you will not come back in a psychiatric facility again…”
The medical bill almost left their family with nothing in their finances. This pushed her parents to accept the offer to work in Dubai so they won’t struggle in their everyday needs. This is also the same reason Dei works as a freelancer in her spare time from school. Despite all the challenges they experienced last year, it made their family ties closer. She loves the improvements from her sister after the treatments inside the psychiatric facility.
Never did Dei anticipate her sister might have another breakdown.
She continues to pacify her sister after she shakes off those memories she do not want to happen again.“Sssshhhh, everything will be alright dear Rionne. You promised me something last year…You will not come back there again. You can cry. You can tell me everything. Just ple--- just please don’t hurt yourself. I love you…Ate Dei loves you so much and I will do everything to take care and protect you…even from yourself.” She whispered lovingly to her while her voice cracks.
Dei starts humming Rionne’s favorite song. It was from a popular animated movie about a Greek demigod’s journey as he believes he can go far in reaching his dreams.Few minutes later, her sister stops struggling. She gives her the medicine into which she takes in. She sings the lyrics and she looks at her.Her sister hugs her and cries in her shoulder. She is too tired so they sat on the couch as she continues to singing. After the song, Rionne sleeps comfortably in her Ate Dei’s caring hug. She wraps her sister’s right arm on her shoulder and supports her upper body. She brings her sister to her room in that position and tucks her to bed.
“I love you talaga Ate Dei...”Rionne murmurs in her sleep.
Dei brushes her hair and sings her a lullaby. “Thank God she calms down.”She thought. She treats her sister’s scratches and tiny wounds from breaking the vase and trophy with their first aid kit. Her mother reminds her to prepare that in case something happens. She wishes before she will only use it on herself, and not on her sister.She is too tired as well so she tucks herself beside her sister in bed, hugs Rionne gently, and closes her eyes to rest.
It has been a long day for Dei.
*****
“I always need to be strong enough for them but I feel like I am about to give up soon…” Dei types these words and clicks the tweet button.
21 people follows her private account. All of them are her close friends. She trust them with her life. Although, most of them are inactive in Twitter so Dei finds it more comfortable releasing her thoughts in that social media platform.
What Dei doesn’t know is Ann sees that tweet after 5 hours. Her bestfriend replies to her tweet and sends her a direct message in Twitter. Ann feels anxious just waiting for her to reply to she calls her through mobile phone. Dei stares blankly at her phone. Her athletic best friend has fast reflexes in sports and sharp intuition in connecting to friends. She knows at that point Ann would want to ask if she is okay and what is happening. She wants to pick up her phone and talk to her but she does not know what to say at all. She just turns off her phone and stares blankly at the ceiling of her room, contemplating about her thoughts and emotions.
Suddenly, she feels her tears flowing but she is not sobbing. Her neutral expression seems to show her mind and heart made her numb.
Did she become too strong that she did not notice her tears anymore? She doesn’t know but she is certain she wants to fight more.
She needs this time all alone for herself, even just for while. She does not track of the time because at this moment, she wants to clear her mind to gather her strength and focus again.
When her emotions subside a bit, Dei comes out of her room to prepare their dinner. She likes cooking more than Rionne does. Even though her sister does not cook much, she always help her in kitchen. She checks the ingredients. Some are not enough so she sends her sister to an errand to buy some ingredients for their meal.
Not long after her sister went out, she hears repeated doorbells. She thinks may be Rionne gets confuse with the list she gave and will ask about it.
She opens the gate and sees Ann. “We are supposed to meet next week with our catch-up lunch but you made me so worried today! You aren’t replying to my texts and chats. You didn’t answer my calls until your phone becomes attended. I called your landline and it was Rionne who answered. She said you were in your room this whole afternoon. I told her not to mention to you I will visit tonight.” Ann catches her breath after talking too fast.“We’re best friends! Why did you not tell it to me? Since when did you start feeling that way…I mean like what you tweeted?” Ann motions they enter their home to talk about it. Her best friend lets her sit on the couch first.
Ann softens her voice and with a more gentle tone, she says, “Ano bang nangyari? How can I help you? I know there is something wrong the moment I saw your tweet…If you are not yet ready to share it now, we can watch movies here with these DVD copies I bought.”
Dei sighs and turns to her. Her best friend sees her gloomy eyes. “I need to fight back. I must be stronger but it feels like I am running out of strength to fight anymore. Nakakapagod pala.It feels like I am about to lose myself even if I still want to fight.” She admits.
She badly wants to cry but she feels her heart toughened from everything she went through especially in taking care of Rionne. It is nearly a year now since she looks after her sister all by herself. Their parents hesitated to go to Dubai but she assured them she could protect her sister.
Ann lets her best friend vent out all her thoughts to her. They are childhood friends and they went to the same school until they graduated from high school. Dei’s university gave her a 50% scholarship. Ann chose her current university because the table tennis and other sports programs impressed her. Even if they are not from the same university now in college, their friendship remains strong as ever. They even consider themselves twin sisters by heart. Ann knows something is bothering her best friend even before she posted that tweet. She listens intently to her. Her best friend looks at her as if Dei is waiting to hear an advice or words of encouragement.
“Before I reached my dream of playing in Olympics, I experienced failures, rejections, disappointments, and setbacks.” Ann clears her throat as she feels her voice becomes shaky.“I even questioned myself that even I love playing table tennis, can I still continue? I realize Dei you cannot really stop from doing what you love. You just need to rest first, gather strength, and pray every day to focus on your goals.”
Ann sees the photo of their family beside their landline phone. She takes it and shows to her best friend. “I know how much you love you love your family. Let that love become the driving force for you to continue whatever happens. All of us, your friends, are always here to remind you how strong you are but sometimes you need to take a break and rest first. I cannot imagine how difficult your responsibilities are but I know you can do them all.
“I believe in you. God trusts you so much and He never gives more than what you can bear.” Ann smiles and gives her the photo. Dei hugs her and smiles. No need for her to cry more after she feels lighter in her heart.
“Thank you Ann for always telling me the words I need to hear at the most crucial times. Para kang si Doc Gia na level kung makapag-advice.” Dei laughs heartily. Thank God, she has Ann as her best friend.
****
Dei is uncomfortable with Rionne’s silence. Her sister seems to be thinking too much again. She calls her attention.
“Dear, what’s wrong? I know when you are overthinking. I know when you are uncomfortable with anything. What is our promise? No secrets, right?”
“I can’t really hide anything from you Ate…I am sorry for breaking your favorite trophy when I---“
Dei is relieved. At least, Rionne worries over a less important thing. She stops what her sister is saying as she pulls her closer and looks into her eyes.
“That trophy is nothing compared to the treasured trophy I have. Do you know what it is?” Rionne shakes her head gesturing no as a response. Dei smiles widely, pats her head, and hugs her tightly.
“Seeing you live your life in the best way you can. You accept your flaws and turn it into your strength. That is Ate Dei’s treasured trophy, Rionne. That is my true trophy. I couldn’t be more proud of you!”
“I will fulfill all my dreams and I will always say thank you for everything Ate Dei. Watch me shine and fly!”
****
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All Things Considered
Summary: When word of Robert Siegel's departure from NPR's "All Things Considered" goes public, Emma gets the chance to compete for her dream job. All that stands in her way are nine fellow journalists - one of them being the charismatic yet cocky Killian Jones. When she ends up paired with Killian on the first story, things get more complicated as she tries to balance fighting for her long-time aspiration and her budding relationship with this fascinating fellow reporter.
Rating: M (for mention of sexual assault)
Word Count: Just under 15k
Also on: Ao3
Cover Art by Lilo: http://liloproductions.tumblr.com/post/170946506621/artwork-all-things-considered-by
Gifset by Megan (spoiler alert): http://sailingcaptainswan.tumblr.com/post/170946398295/all-things-considered-by
A/N: Brace yourselves, everyone. This has got to be the longest thank you/author’s note ever written.
First off, a warning: This story contains mention of sexual assault.
Now, thank yous:
My first thank you has to go to @theonceoverthinker for listening to my ideas and frustrations and always supporting me, even though I refused to spoil the story for her. She didn’t have much to work with, but she helped anyway. Oh, and she absolutely wrote the summary for this story. Thank you, Jenna!
Next thank you goes to @liloproductions. She took my near-15,000 words and turned them into some gorgeous cover art. This was really the first piece of art I’ve ever seen based on my writing, and I couldn’t have asked for a better artist to put all the details into an actual masterpiece. I definitely still stare at this piece every so often in complete awe. Lilo, thank you so, so much! (Oh, on top of her art skills, she’s a joy to talk to.)
I was lucky enough to be matched with two artists, so I want to give the next thank you to @sailingcaptainswan. Not only did she leave the BEST comments on my story as she read it, but she also created an amazing gifset, which presents highlights from the story beautifully. I refused to close the tab with the gifset on my laptop from the time it was finished to today. Megan has some serious talent. I can’t believe she produced such an incredible gifset when she had two other stories to work on as well. She’s amazing. Megan, thank you so very much!
And now @best-left-hook-jones. Wow. I am so lucky to have gotten such an amzing, incredible, wonderful beta. She is the only reason this story is readable. She’s a formatting master, diction superstar, and all-around great human being. This story would never be where it is now if not for her. I really got the jackpot in the beta lottery. She’s so supportive, and I can’t find it in me to delete any of the sweet comments she left on my story. She is a saint to put up with all my questions and ramblings and crazy weird schedule. So a HUGE thank you to my word filter, my own personal cheerleader, and NPR’s newest fan. :) THANK YOU!!!
Shout out to everyone who put the Captain Swan Little Bang together and helped us out along the way. I can’t wait to read all the other stories in the project!
A few quick disclaimers before the good stuff:
NPR and WBUR are real radio stations/news outlets.
“All Things Considered” and “It’s Been a Minute” are real shows/podcasts on NPR.
Robert Siegel, Sam Sanders, Linda Holmes, and Kelly McEvers are real reporters/hosts on NPR.
I do not own any of the above.
Congrats on making it to the end of my thank yous!
Before you proceed to the story, BEWARE. There is mention of sexual assault. The rating is M for this reason, so proceed with caution. No smut, sorry.
Now, enjoy the story!
“Come in, Miss Swan.”
Emma stopped pacing the hallway and followed her boss into the office. To say Emma was nervous would be an understatement. She loved her job, and she took pride in a job well done, so she couldn’t figure out why her boss had requested her presence. And not knowing may have been worse than knowing she did something wrong and dreading the meeting all day. But she showed up at her boss’ office as soon as her shift was up, not even stopping at her own cubicle so she could get ready to head home after the mysterious meeting. Getting there early led to the nervous pacing as Emma let her mind wander, debating what she could have possibly done wrong to warrant a talk with her boss. Being called to come in was almost a relief.
“Thank you for coming by.”
Emma sat in the chair facing her boss, suddenly feeling far too low on the ground. Her boss sat across from her, seeming to tower over the big mahogany desk, and Emma actually had to look up to make eye contact. Appropriate, Emma thought, as the state of her job and general well-being was in the hands of the woman looking down at her. Her boss sighed when Emma didn’t say anything.
“You’re not in trouble, Emma.”
Regina Mills - station manager at Storybrooke Public Radio - crossed her legs under her desk, pulled the jacket of her pantsuit tighter around her, and turned her laptop so Emma could see the screen.
“I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Robert Siegel is leaving ‘All Things Considered’.” Emma shook her head, still unsure of why exactly she was called into her boss’ office. Regina didn’t try to hide her eye roll at Emma’s inability to put the pieces together. “Robert Siegel is leaving ‘All Things Considered,’ which means there’s an opening for a host position at NPR.”
Regina sighed again at Emma’s silence, irritation creeping into her voice as she continued. “The job will be open to anyone, but NPR wants, ideally, to hire someone from one of their member stations.”
Emma nodded, a bit stunned at the course of the conversation.
“The managers at NPR are asking member stations for recommendations. They want reliable reporters who are strong journalists, and I’ve given them your name.”
Emma couldn’t be sure how far her jaw dropped, but she wouldn’t be surprised if it hit the floor. NPR was the big leagues of public radio, and working there had been Emma’s goal since her first story had gotten picked up by her college’s radio station. She’d immediately changed her major from criminal justice to journalism and radio. Journalism was Emma’s chance to give a voice to the voiceless and shed some light on matters of importance. Emma Swan had a talent for presenting news in an unbiased manner, and she had something of a built-in lie detector that repeatedly proved helpful in sniffing out the truth from the lies - a skill of great value in the world of journalism. And now Emma Swan had a real chance to work for NPR.
Realizing she’d been staring at her boss with a dumbstruck look on her face for a questionable amount of time, Emma shook herself out of it. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Regina.”
“You’ll still need to go through the application process, but your work at this station gives you an edge. Of course, there will be plenty of other people in your situation, but I know how talented you are, Miss Swan. You have a gift for radio journalism.” Emma had known Regina since high school, and she’d never heard her compliment someone like that. Her jaw dropped for the second time.
“I expect you won’t let me down.”
“Of course not. I want this.” Emma had never felt more determined in her entire life.
“You may go now, Miss Swan.”
Emma stood up and walked to the door. She paused before walking out.
“Thank you.”
Regina just nodded, not looking up from her laptop. Emma took that as her cue to leave her boss’ office. She went straight home after rushing to pack up her stuff for the day. Immediately upon arriving at her apartment, she printed the application for the job. She made the decision right then and there that she wouldn’t settle for anything less than her dream position. Emma Swan was going to work for NPR, no matter what it took.
Emma tapped her foot a few times and sighed to herself. She and nine others - she’d counted - had been called in to come to NPR’s headquarters in DC. She’d been thrilled to receive the email, at least until she was directed to a conference room she now shared with the other hopefuls. The nine other interviewees were talking amongst themselves, but Emma had no desire to get to know the competition.
A man walked in the room, effectively silencing the chatter. He looked like a man who was used to silencing rooms with his entrance, so it didn’t surprise Emma when he introduced himself as part of NPR’s Human Resources department. His name was Andrew Ventequez, but he told the competitors to call him Andrew.
“You’ve all gotten past the application review and your first two interviews. We narrowed down over 200 applicants to just the ten of you. And since the job is so high-profile and public, we decided we’d try to do something different. We’re going to make this process a little more interesting.”
Emma frowned. She didn’t want ‘interesting’. She very much wanted ‘simple and usual’.
“Most of you are from member stations, a couple of you are not. Regardless, we want to hold a competition of sorts. Winner takes the hosting gig of ‘All Things Considered’ and a regular reporting job here at NPR.”
Emma could do competition. Years of living in group and foster homes made her naturally competitive. She was going to wipe the floor with these other reporters.
“So what will this entail? Basically, we’re going to have you all work on stories, and we’ll feature them on different NPR shows. Even if you don’t get the position, you’ll have been featured. We’ll occasionally suggest stories we want covered, and the rest you’ll find on your own. We will evaluate how you cover the stories both in writing, and on air. We also want to get the donors involved. While our evaluations will make up the bulk of our hiring criteria, we will be asking the opinions of our donors.”
A chorus of chatter arose in the room. The ten applicants glanced around at each other, sizing the others up. Emma peeked around as well, intrigued by the challenge and ready to crush it.
“The competition will begin tomorrow. Today, we’ll give you a tour around the complex, and we’ll let you take some time to get to know each other.”
Emma wasn’t interested in getting to know anyone. Once the competition was over, she’d likely never see any of them again. Thinking she could escape to the hallway until the tour, she slunk back and tried to make her escape. But before she could dart out of the room, her path to the door was blocked.
“Killian Jones, Boston Public Radio. And you are?”
Emma huffed out a breath and stood up straight, taking in Killian Jones. Damn, he was attractive. He was dressed in clothes that absolutely had to be made for him - clothing just doesn’t look like that on most people. Black jeans, a dark blue button-down shirt, and a black leather jacket. Well, hot damn. Her eyes trailed upward; his shirt was strategically unbuttoned at the top, displaying thick, dark tufts of chest hair. Emma’s mouth was getting dry already. Forcing her gaze from his chest, she scanned him from the neck up - well-groomed scruff and hair of a god. It was professionally disheveled - if that’s even a thing - and it made him look good. Snap out of it, Emma.
She met his eyes, ready to narrow her own and challenge him. Boy, was that a mistake. She had never seen anything so blue in all her life. His eyes were the color of forget-me-nots, and there was so much soul in his eyes, she could get lost. Hell, she probably stared into them for an unreasonable amount of time, but she couldn’t be sure because she also seemed to lose track of time in that blue. Ripping her eyes away from the magnetic pull of his, she crossed her arms and glared at him.
“Everything alright, love?”
She didn’t realize his hand had been extended this whole time. She ignored it.
“I’m not your love.”
“Well, considering you haven’t told me your name, I don’t know what I’m to call you.” He leaned back against the doorframe - wow, she’d been so close to escaping before he trapped her - and cocked his head at her, waiting for her to say something.
Looking at the floor, she answered him, “Emma Swan, Storybrooke Public Radio.” She still didn’t take his hand. He took that as his cue to drop it.
“I’ve never heard of Storybrooke before.”
“Wouldn’t expect you to.”
“Where is it, if I may ask?”
“Maine.”
“You’re not making it easy to speak to you, Swan.” She tried to move to the door, but he got up from leaning on the doorframe to block her.
“Maybe that’s because I don’t feel like talking.”
“To me?”
“To anyone. Hence why I was trying to leave the room before you blocked me.” She may have pointed her finger at him on the word “you.” He may have smirked. The idiot.
“And you don’t want to get to know the competition? Sniff out any weaknesses?”
“Don’t need to. I’ll win anyway.”
“You’re pretty confident there, Swan.”
“My name is Emma. And I’m confident because I know I’m good.”
“So is everyone in this room,” he clicked his tongue, “allegedly.” He shrugged.
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“What?”
“Sniffing out my weaknesses?”
“I don’t think you have any.” Emma wasn’t expecting that answer. She was stunned silent. She hoped she didn’t let the shock show on her face, but by the smirk on his, she’s pretty sure she wasn’t successful at controlling that particular facial expression.
Emma raised an eyebrow in question.
“I may have just met you, Swan, but I know better than to underestimate you.” He stood up from against the doorframe and moved aside, clearing the doorway for Emma. She eyed him for a moment before stepping toward the open doorway.
As she passed him on her way out, she turned and said, “good,” leaving him to watch as she left.
Emma was no happier to see the other nine reporters at NPR headquarters the next day. However, Emma was happy to begin the actual competition. She’d been itching to do a story since she arrived in DC. Positioning herself as close to the door as possible without actually being in the hallway, she stood and waited. She wanted to get some of the complimentary coffee on the table in the far end of the room, but Killian Jones was sitting there talking to two of the other competitors. Emma figured she could go without coffee if it meant avoiding being roped into another conversation with Killian Jones.
“Alright reporters,” the NPR executive - Andrew - clapped his hands once as he entered the same conference room from the previous day. “We can’t expect your home stations to fund your housing for the entirety of the competition, so we are going to provide you with rooms at a hotel a few blocks from here.” Emma spared a glance at her competitors. Everyone seemed to be in agreement that this was exciting. Emma was certainly thrilled at the idea; the hotel Regina set her up with was pretty run-down, but it had the basic necessities. Any hotel NPR put her in was going to be a step up.
“However...” There’s a catch? “...We only have six hotel rooms.”
Emma looked around. Six rooms for ten competitors? That didn’t add up.
“We’re going to have you partner up for your first story in the competition.”
Wait, what? Emma was supposed to be competing against these people, not working with them.
“We are going to review your partner stories and eliminate two pairs.”
Now Emma was nervous. She was never big about relying on other people. In her experience, other people pretty much sucked. And now her spot in this competition depended upon another person.
“We’re going to let you all partner yourselves up, and the two of you will pick your own story together.”
This was just getting worse and worse. Emma was starting to regret not talking to anyone yesterday, except - crap. Her stomach dropped as she realized exactly what was going to happen. She was going to have to work with Killian Jones. She was sure of it, even despite the fact that he was standing with their fellow competitors - three of the females eyeing him from all across the room. She knew she was going to end up working with him.
“You can get started now. Stories are due in two days.” Andrew nodded once and walked out of the room.
Confirming her prediction, Killian immediately strutted over to where Emma was standing, ignoring the calls from other - female - reporters asking him to work with them.
“Swan,” he smiled.
“Hey, Jones.” Emma stared at her boots. She really didn’t know any of the other competitors, so was it so bad to work with Killian on one story? Maybe he’s a really great journalist, she thought to herself, he must be to have gotten this far.
“Do you have a partner yet?” Empty question. He knew she didn’t. She knew he knew.
“Um… not really.” She raised her eyes to meet his. His smile brightened.
“Would you do me the honor of being my partner?” She rolled her eyes.
“You’re not proposing, Jones.” He shrugged. “But sure.”
“Really?”
“Why not? You’ve already sized me up. And now you can tell me everyone else’s weaknesses.” She couldn’t help but smile a bit as he chuckled.
“And why would I do that? I did all the work.”
“But now we’re on the same team. We share a common enemy - or enemies, I guess.” Killian’s tongue trailed along his bottom lip in some obscene kind of way.
“Fair point, Swan.” Letting out the breath she’d been holding since that tongue thing, Emma smiled at Killian despite being unsure of what to say next. “We should figure out our story.”
“Yeah.” Emma glanced around the room. “But not here.”
“We can always go to my hotel room,” Killian winked. Emma tensed. She knew he didn’t mean anything by it; it was just flirty banter to him. But that didn’t stop her breathing from quickening.
“Um… No. Um… There’s a Starbucks down the street. There.” She hoped Killian didn’t notice how breathless she sounded.
If he did, he said nothing. “Lead the way, Swan.”
“Why don’t you reserve us a table, Swan? I’ll get the drinks.”
“I can pay for my own drink.”
“I never suggested otherwise. I simply wanted to be a gentleman.” Emma crossed her arms in the middle of the coffee shop.
“I’m getting my own drink.”
He put his hands up in surrender and followed her as she took a spot in line. She was looking at the shoulders of the woman in front of her, but Emma could feel Killian’s stare on her. She tugged on the zipper of her red leather jacket and turned to face him when he tapped her arm. He raised his eyebrows in greeting.
“I won’t buy you a drink, but can I buy you a cookie?” She raised an eyebrow; he mirrored the pose. “Something?”
“Look, I don’t like when guys pay for me. It makes them feel entitled to things.”
His eyebrows went from questioning to furrowed in mere seconds. He didn’t have to ask what kind of things. He knew. Emma frowned. She didn’t mean to give so much away. No one in this competition needed to know anything personal about her, yet she couldn't control her reactions around Killian for some reason. He was already dangerously close to learning some things about Emma's past she'd rather not revisit.
“Swan,” he said softly. She made a noise in her throat that could be considered questioning. “It’s your turn to order.” Emma felt her cheeks grow hot as she turned around and ordered a hot chocolate - she really didn’t need the coffee if she and Killian were just going to be talking. She was alert enough as is. Coffee would only make her more jittery.
After paying for her own drink, she stepped to the side to wait for it. Killian joined her moments later, a drink already in his hand.
“How do you already have your drink?” She glared at the white and green cup in his hand, thinking he must have flirted with the barista to get her to make it right away for him.
“Black coffee. Doesn’t need to be prepared.” Emma scrunched her nose. She couldn’t drink coffee without a ton of sugar and flavoring. He chuckled at her disgusted facial expression. It was weird standing there with him while neither of them said anything.
“Go get us a table or something.”
“But then who will retrieve my scone?” Of course he’d gotten a scone. “I am from Britain after all.” It was like he read her mind. She looked at him - wow, he had a nice profile.
“Why’d you move here?” He turned to look at her, blue eyes meeting green.
“Personal questions already? We've just been acquainted, Swan.”
“We're journalists. Asking questions is what we do.” She just hoped he wouldn't. And, yes, she was totally aware of the double standard there.
“Well, Swan, my brother and I had a rough childhood. Both of our parents...” he paused to consider his wording, “...left us back in England.” There was more to that. He chose that wording carefully. By the look on his face, he knew he’d been caught in the half-truth, but he continued. “We wanted to distance ourselves from those memories.”
He stepped forward to pick up his freshly-warmed scone using the same hand that held his coffee. Emma almost missed the call for her hot chocolate because she was too busy staring at him. That was all in the realm of incredibly personal. Who could blame her for staring in shock for a questionably long moment?
She grabbed her drink and followed him to a table.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, Swan. I’ve come to terms with my past.”
“I didn’t really have a family either. I’m a foster kid.” Well, add that to the ridiculous number of personal things Killian found out about Emma today. She was just disclosing everything to him. That probably meant something. She decided not to dwell on that thought.
“‘Am’? Present tense?”
“Never really ended up with a family. My own fault. I ran away before they could realize they didn’t want me.” She gulped her hot chocolate to keep from saying more. It burned her throat on the way down and she coughed into her arm. She probably deserved the burn; maybe it would serve as a reminder to keep her mouth shut. They were only there to figure out their story.
“We can focus on our story if you want, Swan.” She gaped at him. He always seemed to know what she was thinking.
“How-”
“You’re something of an open book.” Emma narrowed her eyes. His ability to read her so easily freaked her out, but he could probably read that, too. She was thankful he didn’t show it. Instead, he ripped off a chunk of his scone and popped it into his mouth. “So, our story. Did you have any preferences?”
“I want to do something on the Harvey Weinstein Effect.”
He groaned. He actually groaned.
“What?” She gripped her hot chocolate slightly tighter than she should have, but still kept the cup’s structure functional.
“Everyone is covering the sexual assault stories.” He definitely noticed Emma tense at his words. Maybe she wasn’t the only open book in this relationship.
“People are still judging the credibility of the victims.”
“Some people are lying for the attention.” He wasn't trying to test her - that much she could tell. But he also wouldn't quite meet her eyes; he looked at the mugs for sale on a shelf behind Emma to her left instead. Perhaps he was suspicious about her connection to the issue.
“That’s true. But most people aren’t lying. And people are suggesting it was their fault - the victims, I mean - and that’s if they even believe the stories at all.” Emma sat up straighter. She was going to win this.
“Covering this - it’s not original. It won’t get us through.”
“What are your ideas, genius?” She crossed her arms. She was being overly defensive. If she were him, she would’ve been able to read her, too.
“The 25th anniversary of Aladdin.”
She exhaled harshly.
“Seriously? You want to do a story on a cartoon genie when women are getting accused of ‘asking for’ men to assault them?” She put air quotes around “asking for” and leaned in as she spoke. She was an uncomfortably close distance to his face. She could smell the coffee on his breath when he spoke next.
“Why are you pushing so hard for this?”
This wasn’t fair. He knew exactly why. He could read her. He’s probably known since she’d suggested Starbucks.
“Swan,” he sat back and his eyes dropped to the table. “I’m sorry, Swan. I’m pushing.” Emma sat back as well, taking a couple deep breaths and nodding to acknowledge his apology. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I just want to understand why you're so passionate about covering an entirely unoriginal story.”
Maybe it wasn’t the most original topic, but it was important - really important. They were going to do this story no matter what it took. Emma was determined. She knew what she had to do.
“If I tell you why this means so much to me, will you do the story?” Emma’s eyes were transfixed on the place where her cup was resting on the table.
“That’s fair.” He leaned closer to her when she didn’t say anything. “Try something new, darling. It’s called trust.”
“I don’t have the easiest time trusting people.”
She hesitated, but lifted her eyes to look at the man across from her. His eyes were wide and full of compassion. She definitely looked as terrified as she felt. She wasn't really going to tell him this - was she?
“You don’t have to tell me. We can do your story anyway. I know it means a lot to you.” He was giving her an out. She could take it and they would still do her story. But why did she suddenly want to tell him?
“No. If you're sacrificing your story idea for me, for an idea you're not confident in, then you deserve to know.” He said nothing. He was going to let her do this at her own pace. She appreciated that. This was something she had tried very hard to suppress. It had been a decade - at least - since she said the words aloud. “I wasn’t always going to be a journalist.”
“Oh?”
“I was a criminal justice major at first. I wanted to be a cop.”
He grinned. “Sheriff Swan?” He was attempting to make her less nervous. It may have worked - just a little.
Killian was harmless - her lie detector never sounded with him. The therapist she was forced to see had said talking about it would help her move on. Though, admittedly, her therapist probably hadn’t meant Emma should tell an almost-stranger. Semantics. Emma decided at that moment that she would tell him. Trust - she was trusting him.
She followed his questioning. “That was the goal. Or maybe detective.”
“You are certainly tough enough to be in law enforcement.”
“Yeah, well, I ended up switching to journalism my first semester.”
She was about to tell someone her story for the first time since college. It was daunting. She usually tried not to think about it, and yet, she was about to tell Killian Jones, who she had only just met yesterday. And in the middle of a Starbucks near NPR headquarters no less. How the hell had she let herself get into this situation? And why wasn't she more freaked out about it? Damn Killian.
“I interned with the campus police. Freshman interns were almost unheard of, but I passed all the exams.” He looked genuinely impressed. “The intern mentor - his name was Neal. He was new that semester. He was in charge of all the interns. He gave us assignments and signed our paperwork and everything.”
She watched Killian’s face change as he put the pieces together. He was already ahead of her, it seemed. He immediately opened his mouth to speak.
“Swan,” his voice was low and careful. “I didn’t know - I didn’t - I wouldn’t have -” Emma had never heard Killian stutter before. “I just thought you had a story that meant a lot to you or something. Or a friend. I don't know. I never thought-” His right hand shot up to scratch behind his ear. He really hadn't figured it out until now.
“What happened to open book?” Her effort at light-hearted teasing fell a bit short.
“You’re just so tough. I didn’t think you could have gone through anything like that.”
“I don’t exactly advertise it.”
“I’m sorry for pushing. I really just thought you encountered a story somewhere that was exceptionally moving. Or maybe you had a friend that went through it.” He had no clue what to say. That was a first. “Oh, gods, Swan. I am so sorry.” Emma just shook her head. He really felt bad.
His eyes widened again with another realization. “Oh, Swan. I never meant anything by any of my comments.”
“What?” She was a little surprised he found something else to apologize for, especially when she had no idea what he was talking about.
“Liam always told me my merciless flirting would get me in trouble.” Oh. Oh. “Apologies, Swan. I never meant to make you uncomfortable.”
“No, no, no. I know you never meant anything.” Killian made a noise sounding like a cough that got stuck in his throat. “I have this superpower. I always know when someone is lying. And I knew you wouldn’t do anything.” He visibly sighed in relief. “Trust me, if I saw anything bad in you, I would not be here with you right now.”
“I still apologize. I made some inappropriate comments, and I pushed you too far. I just wanted to get to know you, and instead I’m making a right arse of myself.”
He wanted to get to know her? That was new. Even more, this was the first time a man had ever considered his own actions and apologized to her - not out of pity, but genuinely. And Emma knew Killian meant every word. Something about that made her more inclined to open up to him. None of this was in the plan, but it was happening.
Emma never would have continued if he wasn’t so genuine.
“So Neal-”
“Swan, you don’t have to.”
“Surprisingly, I want to.” And she meant it. It didn't make sense and it scared the hell out of her, but she wanted to tell Killian Jones her story. He considered for a moment before conceding.
“In that case, I would be honored to learn more about your beginnings, Swan.” He took a sip of his coffee and waited for her to take over the conversation.
She was really going to do this. Her heart was beating at what was probably a very worrying speed. She was anxious to verbalize the event after a decade of suppressing it. And maybe it made her a little hopeful. Her therapist may have been onto something - not that Emma would ever admit it.
“Neal had all the interns doing office jobs at first - mostly paperwork. And one day, he asked me if I wanted to grab some pizza after work. I didn’t want to, but I went anyway. I figured I could show him I had what it took to be put on different jobs. So we got pizza at a place near campus. The next day, I got to help with campus security.”
Killian was already visibly cringing in anticipation.
“I went back to paperwork after that. So when he asked me to grab tacos with him a few days later, I went. The next day, I got another security job.”
“Swan, you can stop.” She shook her head.
“You need to hear this to the end.”
She barely heard his whispered, “okay.”
“Neal and I kept going out. Every time we did, I’d get jobs. I think the other interns basically knew what was going on. Some of them went out with him to get jobs, too. But none of us said anything. I know it was kinda naive, but I thought the more he got to know me, the more he saw potential.”
“Wait,” Killian interrupted her story. She almost glared at him, but he looked adamant he say whatever was on his mind. “What happened - it wasn’t your fault.”
It took her a moment too long to respond. “I know.”
He nodded skeptically and pulled off a chunk of his scone. She could practically see him thinking, but he was letting her speak.
“And one night, we were out for pizza. He suggested we watch a movie at his apartment. I told him I had a lot of homework, so I was just going to head back to my dorm. He said that if I went over and just watched a movie, then I could shadow a campus officer. Not just security, but on the job with an actual police officer. All I had to do was watch a movie with him.”
She paused.
“So I did. And we watched a movie, and I went home. And the next day, I shadowed an officer for the first time.”
Killian was remarkably attentive. Emma was seriously reconsidering the conceited, self-sure image she formed of him after their conversation the previous day. But he was still going to be her competition after the partner stories - they were absolutely going to win; she was sure of it - something she had to keep in mind. She was telling him this for her own sanity, and maybe a little for the sake of their joint-story. But she was absolutely doing this for herself, and once she realized that, she found the strength to keep talking.
“He asked me back to his apartment again a couple weeks later, and, of course, I went. I wanted to shadow again. But during the movie, he- he, um… he slid his hand under my shirt.”
Killian clenched his jaw.
“I told him ‘no’. I said that I wasn’t comfortable with it, but he kept going. And then he unbuttoned my jeans...”
“Swan,” he interrupted her as he exhaled through gritted teeth.
“I was frozen at first. I knew I couldn’t do anything without jeopardizing my internship. But he kept going. I didn’t actually let him, you know, do anything. And he never asked me out again. But I didn’t have another job for two weeks. And then I got dropped from the internship program.” She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them and continuing, “I reported it to the college. It was this big thing. We went to university court and everything.”
“But?” He was smart. Of course there was a “but.”
“But the case was a he-said-she-said case, and the court sided with the ‘he said’ side.” She didn’t think Killian could move with that amount of tensed muscles, but she watched as his face fell with the news. “They just thought I was making it up to retaliate for getting fired from the program. Or they thought we must have been drunk, or that I must have been wearing something revealing - neither of which makes it okay. But the point is that no one took me seriously.”
His right eyebrow shot up to his hairline when she smiled.
“I went to the journalism department in hopes that someone would tell my story. I ended up at the college radio station. They picked it up - my story. I took the names out, more to protect myself, and they ran the story four times that first day.”
Emma took interest with a car in the parking lot visible through the window behind Killian.
“A local station heard the story and picked it up. Then the newspapers. And local TV news. The college got into a lot of trouble. I’m pretty sure they knew it was me, but they weren’t going to punish me because they’d get in even more trouble. Anyway, it was then that I saw what journalists can do. I saw how important journalism is to society. I loved that they believed me, and they actually made change happen. The college changed all their proceedings for sexual assault charges. So yeah, I switched my major the day I saw my story on the news.”
Killian put his coffee cup on the table and leaned in.
“Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”
“I know. But I don’t want to let that control me anymore.”
And it was true. She felt freer already. She wasn’t sure what it was about Killian, but she trusted him completely. And her usual urge to run was nowhere to be found. That should have scared her the most. It didn’t. That must be significant. She tried not to dwell on that.
Emma grabbed her hot chocolate and took a large swig of it - anything to keep from thinking about how much she trusted this near-stranger named Killian Jones who was practically thrown into her life.
“I was right.” She put her cup down and sent him a questioning look
“Huh?”
“You don’t have any weaknesses.”
“Can I ask you something?” They were back at Starbucks. Emma was typing up the story she and Killian were meant to do together for the website while Killian was working on notes for them to reference on air.
“Of course.”
“You thought I was passionate because I had a story that meant a lot to me.” She paused her typing.
“Mhm.” He didn’t even look up from his laptop.
“Is that because you have a story like that?” She got her answer when he stopped typing and his eyes widened. His right hand darted upward to scratch behind his ear.
“Um… Actually, I did.” His cheeks went red.
“Do you feel comfortable sharing it with me?” She closed her laptop and looked at Killian.
“Well, after what you told me yesterday, I feel like telling you is the least I can do.”
“No, stop.” She put her hand up to cut him off. “I don’t want you to tell me because you think you should. You don’t owe me anything. Don’t tell me because you feel bad for me or whatever.” He looked a bit like a scolded child as a result of Emma’s stern tone.
“Swan, you trusted me.”
“Yeah, well-” She didn’t actually know where she was going with that. She didn’t understand why she trusted him - or why she still did.
“Well, I trust you as well. And if you felt better for having told me, then maybe telling you will help free me of this.”
“Okay.” She took a sip of her large hot chocolate, which she actually let Killian buy her. She also let him buy her a chocolate chip muffin.
“There was this woman-” That’s never a good start. “We, um… We were involved.”
“You know you don’t have to, right?”
“Aye. But I want to. All cards on the table.”
She nodded to motion for him to continue.
“Milah was her name. She was my British literature professor at university. It was attraction at first sight. She was beautiful and brilliant and-” he trailed off, shaking his head. “She was everything.”
“What happened?” Emma was surprised at how weak her voice sounded.
“She was married.” Emma’s mouth widened in a silent “oh.” He nodded. “I knew it when we began our relationship. She told me she filed for divorce. Her husband was a cold, cruel man.”
“She ‘told you?’” Emma wasn’t quite sure what Killian was getting at, but she was going to hear him out.
“She truly did file the papers, but her husband...” Emma decided to keep her mouth shut this time. “He refused to sign. He wouldn’t allow her the freedom of her relationships. And he had complete control of her finances as well. Unless she was with him, she had no money.” Killian scrubbed his hand over his face. “She left him anyway. She said she loved me so much, the money didn’t matter. She was able to change the bank account her salary went to, since she was still teaching. So she moved in with me. And we had all these big plans.”
“She encouraged me to use my talents as an English student to bring her situation with her husband into the light. Her husband was a rather prominent individual in the U.K., so I did it. And the story was successful.”
“But?”
“Aye, but.” He took a breath. “But her husband wasn’t happy we exposed him. She was able to get a restraining order against him, making them fully divorced. And she got her money back.” He took another breath. “But two months later, she was driving home and she drove into a guardrail on the road.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“The seatbelt was sliced by the rail, and so was she. She died in that car. And when they examined the car afterward, they noticed the brakes had been tampered with.”
“Her husband?”
“I believe so. But I couldn’t charge him because of lack of proof. They said we’d never be able to pin him to the crime.” Emma could see Killian was still torn up over the loss. “So I did what I did best - I wrote a story on it. I made it fairly clear in the story who did it, but I never actually named him. However, it was enough for the government to look into, and they arrested him for other things - fraud, bribery, failure to appear - among other things.”
“At least he got arrested.”
“Aye. I just wish it could be for what he did for Milah. She deserves justice.”
“You did what you could, and I know you might feel like it wasn’t enough, but you did a really good thing.”
“Well, thank you, Swan. She was my first real love - not just a conquest. I never thought I’d love again.”
“Thought? Past tense?” Killian’s eyes may have just sparkled as he nodded.
“Well, things change. And the future is nothing to be afraid of.”
Emma was certain she wasn’t the only one trying not to squirm in her rolling chair as she and Killian waited patiently for final preparations to be finished in the studio. Perhaps if they were alone, she could have settled some of the restlessness by chatting with Killian beforehand, going over the last lingering details again before they went on air. But seated just on her other side was Robert Siegel - actual NPR host and reason for her being there. Her right leg bounced with excitement and nerves.
Sure, she’s had a couple stories featured on NPR shows before, but she had always recorded those stories either onsite or back in the studio at Storybrooke Public Radio. Now, though, she was about to go live on “All Things Considered” with a story she was extremely proud of at NPR studios in Washington DC. This might just be the greatest moment of Emma’s life.
But apparently NPR couldn’t afford a third microphone, which was why her chair was pressed up against Killian’s, the pair squeezed in together to share the single microphone. At least they had their own headsets. But still, if Emma’s thigh was any further to her left, it would be touching Killian’s. And that was somehow even more unnerving than going live for her first story from NPR HQ.
Everything about Killian Jones overwhelmed Emma. He was sweet and smart and genuinely interested in getting to know her. She trusted him despite every experience she’s ever had telling her not to. And she wanted to be close to him - just maybe not practically sitting in his lap while she was supposed to be reporting on NPR and focused on destroying her competition, which included a certain Brit. A certain Brit whose breath smelled like black coffee, which Emma knew because he was currently breathing onto her face. She silently wished Robert Siegel would stop making conversation with Killian because every time the latter responded, she could feel his breath, hot on her cheek. It was entirely distracting, and Emma couldn’t afford distraction right now.
Emma tried to pay attention to Robert Siegel until they were to go live - ‘tried’ being the operative word. She felt like Killian was surrounding her, and he kind of was. He had an arm resting along the back of her chair, fingers dangling awfully close to Emma’s shoulder. His leg was less than an inch from her leg. And - gosh - if they leaned in to talk into the microphone at the same time, their faces would be touching.
Emma jerked her head to look at Killian when he nudged her with his elbow. He leaned in and whispered into her ear.
“Are you ready? Live in one minute.”
She shut her eyes for a moment and focused on the story. She was going to answer the questions and focus on her reporting. She needed this interview to go well. Their stories would be judged both on this interview and the written story that would go on the website. Her eyes shot to the NPR host on her right when he started speaking.
“And I’m Robert Siegel in Washington.”
This was it. Her first story for NPR from NPR studios.
“As more and more sexual assault allegations are brought up, how can we keep up with it all? With the seemingly never-ending accusations, how do we know what to believe? Here to shed some light on victim credibility are two talented reporters - one of whom may very well take my job in January - Emma Swan, of member station WSPR, and Killian Jones, of member station WBUR. Thank you both for joining me.”
Both Emma and Killian leaned in at the same time to respond. Her hair rubbed his cheek.
“Thank you for having us,” Emma got out first.
“It’s an honor to be here,” Killian added.
Focus, Emma. Focus on journalism and the words on the paper in front of you and the questions Robert Siegel was asking. Focus on anything but Killian’s beaming smile and how his coffee breath doesn’t even smell bad.
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And she did - for the most part. She focused on her story and her responses, and she sounded not only coherent, but good - really good. And she only got distracted by Killian Jones when he absolutely gave her all the credit for their story on the air. Damn him. It was charming and honest and she could see the pride on his face. He was proud, but not of himself. He was proud of her.
When the news came in that they had passed their round and were to stay in the competition, Killian was quick to quip about them making quite the team. And he was right.
With their achievement came another prize; the remaining contestants would each be granted their own room for the remainder of the competition. It would be a welcome relief to have her own space again, but Emma couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that she would no longer have Killian’s company bright and early each morning. They’d have group meetings, but now that they would be in nicer rooms, they had no reason to leave the hotel all the time. Not to mention that she and Killian weren’t working together anymore. But Emma and Killian wrote down each other’s room numbers when they got their room keycards anyway. Not that Emma planned to use that information or anything. Absolutely not. Because the partner work was finished and Killian was her competition again. And she had to get all thoughts of that smile beaming with pride for her out of her mind. But that, of course, was easier said than done.
Walking into NPR headquarters the following week was refreshing. Rather than being greeted by nine other reporters, there were only five other faces - only five other people she needed to destroy in order to live her greatest journalism dream. Emma saw only one problem: Killian Jones was one of those five people she had to destroy.
After getting to know him, even just a little bit, she found that she didn’t really have any desire to destroy Killian at anything. In fact, she kind of (absolutely) wanted to get to know him better. She wanted to root for him in the competition, too, because it had become clear over the past few days that he deserved the spot as much as she did. Not that she was about to give up her place in the competition to ensure he got the spot, though. Certainly not. She was slightly conflicted.
Her face fell when she walked in and wasn’t immediately greeted by a smile from Killian. She poured herself some of the coffee that was provided for free every morning and sat down in an end seat at the large table in the center of the conference room. Emma scanned the room, gazing just above the top of the phone she was pretending to use. She wasn’t about to let on that she was looking for Killian. Still, she couldn’t quite suppress the small smile that broke out on her face when she spotted him pacing back and forth in the hallway. After minutes of trying not to blatantly stare at him, he finally made her spying easier and walked in the room. He bypassed the free coffee altogether and immediately sat in the seat closest to Emma.
“Good morning, Swan.”
“Are you worried about something? That was quite a bit of pacing you did there.”
His cheeks immediately grew red, but he shook it off fairly quickly.
“You were watching?” He quirked an eyebrow.
She’d given herself up. Now it was Emma’s turn to turn red. She shrugged in response, not trusting her voice to hide her embarrassment.
“Well, Swan, it was nice of you to be worried about me. But I was merely speaking to my older brother. He’s in the Navy, and he doesn’t always get time to call. He wanted to check on how the competition was going.”
“That’s nice of him.” She winced as soon as the words left her mouth; her tone was drier than she hoped it would be. He gave her a curious look before returning his facial expression to normal. She interrupted before he could say anything. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to come out so bitter.”
“It’s fine, love. I understand.” He really did understand that she only sounded bitter because she never had a brother - or any relatives, really - to care about her like that.
Emma nodded in response, letting him know that she appreciated the understanding and he was free to continue talking. He took the cue.
“Liam can be overprotective for the both of us.”
“You’ve mentioned him a couple times before.”
“Aye. The best brother in the universe. He raised me, really.” Emma’s eyes dropped to her coffee cup, the contents quickly cooling. “When my mum died, my father turned to alcohol. Poor excuse for a father he was. Liam left school to work. My father spent all our money on drinks, and Liam wanted us to be prepared for the day he passed out in an alley and didn’t get up.”
Emma listened, not commenting. Killian was yet again opening up to her, and she was going to pay attention. They should probably stop making incredibly personal confessions in public places.
“That wasn’t what happened, though I think I’d prefer it. That probably makes me a horrible person, but I would rather have had my father die than abandon us like he did.” She could hear the anger in his voice. “The man was a coward.”
“For the record,” she interrupted, “I don't think that makes you a horrible person.”
He took a moment before speaking again.
“Well, thank you, Swan. I'm glad you see it that way.” Emma couldn’t believe he thought himself a horrible person. He wasn't anything even resembling horrible. She would have to make sure he knew that, but maybe she'd wait until after yet another one of his emotional stories.
“One day, he disappeared. After three weeks, Liam and I figured he wouldn't come back. We knew he hadn't passed out somewhere and finally succumbed to the alcohol because Liam checked. Every day for three weeks, he would go out after I was to go to sleep. He thought I was sleeping, but I wasn't. And I knew where he went every night. Another thing about my father; he always preferred Liam over myself. So Liam didn't have the disrespect I had towards the man - not yet, anyway. And he went out every night for those three weeks, searching all our father's frequented bars for him. No one in town had seen him. It was after those three weeks that a man came to our house. Liam knew the man from the docks. My brother always wanted to be a Navy man, so he got out on boats any chance he got. He worked at the docks for money after mum passed.” Killian paused and Emma watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed a couple times before continuing. “One of Liam's friends from the dock told us he saw our father boarding an unregistered ship. Since the ship wasn't registered, he had no idea of where it was headed or whose ship it was. He said he tried to get my father's attention and to stop the ship, but alas, it was fruitless.”
“What a dick,” Emma muttered out of instinct. She didn't really mean to say that out loud. Oops.
Killian chuckled. Phew.
“Aye. That he was.”
“Your brother sounds like a good guy.”
“The best. Had to grow up before his time, but he never complained once about any of it. He left school to work so he and I could eat. We never had much, but he would always give me more than he had himself. If we had soup for dinner, I got two helpings and he got one. At night, I had a pillow and blanket and he had a sleeping bag. He always made sure I did well in school, and he never let me worry about anything. He said that was his job and he'd take care of us both.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah.” Emma could see the pride and admiration Killian had for his brother. “It took about half a year for him to win legal custody of me in court, and I still don't know how he did it. But he did. And then we decided to leave the country. Too many negative memories. We went to Boston with all our money and what few possessions were dear to us. It was near water. Then, he joined the Navy, and I attended school. And then I joined the Navy when I was of age.”
Killian really had quite the story. He seemed to look back with a sense of pride for his brother, but also something else Emma couldn't quite put her finger on. It wasn't longing or disappointment or sadness. She wished she could read that emotion, but she was fine with letting him keep talking.
“Liam was my captain. I rose to the rank of lieutenant before I got hurt.” He held up his left hand, which was covered by a black glove - a prosthetic. She had noticed it, but never had the courage to ask. It was convincing; she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t worked so close with him. And he seemed to try to hide it most of the time. Now that she thought about it, he never once touched her with his left hand, he was always on her left side, and he constantly had his hand in his pocket. He watched her as she thought about it, shame seeming to creep into his eyes. Before she could reassure him that his hand - or lack thereof - was nothing to be ashamed about, he decided to sate her curiosity.
“We were docked away from home for some time, allowed to go into town and enjoy ourselves before our next orders came in. I had done a fair bit or drinking; seems I inherited my father's affinity for alcohol.” He spoke that last line through his clenched teeth. Loosening up, he took a breath and continued. “There was work to be done on the ship. My alcohol-addled brain decided to work on some of it. I thought I could make Liam and the rest of the crew happy by alleviating their workloads later. So I started some mechanical work.”
“Killian, I know where this is going. You don't have to keep telling me.”
He nodded. “I should spare you the details anyway.” He looked down at where his prosthetic hand rested on the table. Definitely shame. “The doctors couldn't save my hand. Liam stayed with me in hospital, taking leave from service for the time. I was an arse, but Liam made it his goal to make sure I recovered best I could and made something of myself. So once I finished physical therapy and he could trust that I wouldn't drink myself to death, he enrolled me in university. And you know how that story ends.”
Emma considered what to do next. She didn't want to say anything overly emotional, and she didn't think Killian wanted to hear it anyway. And there was something more to that story with Liam. Killian had told her what happened, but there was a feeling there, lingering just behind his words. He felt like he was always second-best to Liam. Overly emotional probably wouldn't do, although one day, she would have to tell him that he's absolutely second to none. And, god, he shouldn’t be ashamed of his disability.
But Andrew would be there soon to give them their assignment. So instead, she lifted up her cup of now cold coffee and made a toast. “To terrible pasts and broken people,” she said, taking a sip of the drink before handing the cup to Killian, who repeated the toast and took a swig of the coffee himself.
By the time Andrew walked through the door, Killian’s mood had seemed to improve, though Emma didn’t fail to notice how his gaze seemed to linger on her. How could she not notice, when she found herself sneaking her own glances at him?
They were down to five competitors now. Emma figured she might as well get to know at least the names of her fellow reporters (other than Killian). She learned their names were Jefferson, August, and Aurora. Jefferson, she found, was experimental and up for anything. He seemed a bit crazy, but that worked for some people. August was generally quiet and ultra-focused. He kept to himself with his eye on the prize, but Emma sensed he also had a gentle side. And Aurora was kind, and she cared about a lot of issues. She covered a wide range of stories, and the amount of care Aurora had for the subjects was clear.
All three of them were great journalists, but Emma felt confident she could take each one of them down. She and Killian worked together to sniff out their competitors’ weaknesses. Jefferson could be a bit too out there sometimes. August was too quiet for a hosting gig. And Aurora wasn’t much for stories about subjects she didn’t care deeply about.
Throughout Emma and Killian’s teamup, she tried to remember when she decided getting so close to a competitor was a good idea. She figured probably around the time he mentioned that they made a great team. And the amount of personal information shared by them both was incredible. Or alarming. The two of them settled into a routine. Emma had never had a routine involving anyone but herself. She just met the guy, yet they went to Starbucks every morning. And they worked, even on individual projects, together. She was even okay with going back to one of their hotel rooms. She may have fallen asleep on the hotel bed with him a few times while they were watching Netflix. The fact that she wasn’t uncomfortable with it should have terrified her. It didn’t.
Still, it was a wonder they could do such great work together when it felt that most of their time was taken up by sarcastic quips toward one another and bumping heads on seemingly everything. For two people who actually had a lot in common, they argued a lot. At least it was never over anything serious.
And Emma wasn’t stupid. She knew the talk going around. She saw the looks the other competitors gave her and Killian. They were a package deal, and everyone knew it. Even the NPR reporters they got to work with told Emma how much they loved her work with Killian. But as well as they worked together, they were competition. And Emma’s dream job was on the line. She was going to take that spot for herself. And nobody, especially not Killian Jones, was going to stop her.
Emma frowned when she walked into NPR HQ and wasn’t greeted by a sarcastic comment. Her fellow applicants were huddled together in the corner of the conference room.
“Where’s Jones?” She asked. Jefferson, August, and Aurora all stared at her in unison. Emma’s eyes flickered between the three. “What?”
“Didn’t you hear?” Aurora and Jefferson glanced at August nervously.
“Hear what?” Emma crossed her arms and stared August down. “What’s going on?”
“His brother,” August stated as if that explained everything. Emma raised her eyebrows and waited. “His brother died yesterday.”
“What happened?” Emma worried her bottom lip between her teeth.
“We don’t know. Something happened on his ship. The Navy won’t release anything yet.”
Aurora handed Emma a newspaper. “Check the obituaries.” Aurora kept her voice lowered as if Emma would scare off if she spoke louder. Emma found it immediately:
Captain Liam Brennan Jones passed away with full honors aboard the USS Jewel of the Realm on Tuesday, November 14, 2017. Capt. Jones left behind a brother, Lieutenant Killian Jones, of whom the Captain was immensely proud, and a fiancee, Elsa Arendelle. Funeral services will be held Friday, November 17, 2017 at Arlington National Cemetery, and Killian Jones will be presented with the Navy Cross on his brother’s behalf.
Emma was speechless. She immediately wanted to comfort him, but she figured he probably went home to deal with everything.
“Is he still in the competition?”
“Yeah. NPR is letting him take some time off.” Aurora approached Emma delicately - like she would break if she was too rough.
“None of us will be eliminated until he’s back, but we get to keep doing stories,” Jefferson added. Emma nodded. Good. Killian wouldn’t be eliminated for this.
“He was close with his brother, wasn’t he?” Aurora asked Emma.
“Why are you asking me? I never met his brother.”
“You two have been inseparable since the partner assignment,” August noted.
“Yeah, we all just kind of figured…” Aurora never finished that thought.
“We’re friends.” The three competitors shared a look. Emma rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Okay, seriously? We’re just friends. Only one of us can win after all, which means the other one will lose. That wouldn’t make for a great relationship.” Emma’s comment was met with silence and less than convincing nods from her fellow reporters. “But, yes, he and Liam were close. At least from what he told me, they were really close.”
“The poor thing,” Aurora’s hand covered her mouth and her eyes turned sad.
Emma was spared having to defend her relationship - or lack thereof - with Killian when Andrew walked in the room. She didn’t pay much attention to what he had to say, instead debating if she should call later or send flowers or both. Or if she should do nothing and wait until she saw him again. She overanalyzed each option to the point where she almost drove herself crazy.
When her competitors were knee-deep in story writing, she decided to send Killian a text. The rest would be up to him.
The following day, Emma entered the conference room and nearly dropped her hot chocolate when she saw Killian across the room. He was hunched over, his head resting on his arms where they were folded on the table. Emma ignored greetings from August and Aurora as she made her way over to Killian.
“Hey, Jones.”
His head shot up to look at her, and she got a good look at him. He looked worse for wear. His hair was way past the point of being disheveled, and his eyes were red and puffy. He’d been crying recently. Judging by the way he sniffed as he sat up, he had probably cried since arriving that day.
“Swan.” He gave her a watery smile.
“What are you doing here?”
His smile, as pretend as it was, disappeared in a flash.
“This is work, Swan. I need to show up if I want the job.”
“I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking a few days.” She kept eye contact with him. He looked so broken. He shook his head.
“Need to get back to normal. He wouldn’t have wanted me to give up my shot at this job for him.”
Emma pulled her lips behind her teeth. Comforting wasn’t really her thing. She peered at the hot chocolate in her hand before she slid it over so it was in front of Killian.
“Here.” He cocked an eyebrow at her, bringing back some semblance of normalcy. “Drink it.”
“No, Swan. It’s yours.” He stared at his lap.
“You need it more than me.” He raised his eyes to meet hers without lifting his head. He was being stubborn; she knew stubborn better than anyone. Crossing her arms, she sat back. “If you don’t drink it, I’ll throw it away. You wouldn’t want to waste a large hot chocolate, would you?” She shot him an encouraging smile.
“Of course not.” He took a sip of the drink. “Thank you, Swan.”
She nodded in response. As she watched him take another long sip of her hot chocolate, she was sure having to go the morning without the beverage was worth it. The warmth was returning to his cheeks already - not that she was looking or anything. Definitely not. She was just worried about him. Yeah, just worried. She felt bad that he just lost his brother - that was all. She snuck glances at him for the next ten minutes before Andrew came into the room.
“Hello, journalists. Before we begin, I want to express condolences - on behalf of all of us at NPR - for your loss, Killian. I am so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Killian tried his hardest to smile, but his eyes remained trained on the table in front of him.
“With the loss of Captain Liam Jones, it seems more people have died from naval incidents than the Afghan War this year.”
Emma shot Killian another concerned glance. She fought the urge to take his hand to comfort him.
“Emma, we want you to take that story. Get it done today and you’ll have off the rest of the week. Plus, you’ll be immune from elimination this week. The rest of you will pick your own stories for competition.” Emma looked at Killian again and bit her lip. “Is there a problem, Emma?”
“I just think maybe Killian should take it.” Every head in the room shot up to look at her.
“I’m not sure that’s such a great idea,” Aurora started.
“Well, I know he wants to be here and do a story, and he has a connection to this one. It might help him with-” she paused when she noticed no one’s expression had changed “-closure.” Besides, anyone could tell just from looking at him that he could use the time off.
“Killian, are you up to it?” Andrew looked skeptical.
The man in question sat up straighter and avoided Emma’s gaze. “Absolutely.”
“Alright then. Killian will take the Navy story. I want story idea pitches from the rest of you in 24 hours.” He left the room, leaving the journalists to work.
Emma couldn’t concentrate on story ideas because she was too busy worrying about Killian, who hadn’t moved since taking the story. His jaw was clenched and he was stiff. He was angry with her. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before deciding that saying nothing was probably the best option. Let him talk first.
Aurora was the first one to approach Killian. “Hey, why don't you work from your hotel room? You already have your story.” Emma absolutely didn’t notice Aurora’s hand on Killian’s back.
“I’m fine here, but thank you, Aurora. I can get my work done here and then use my time off to finish funeral preparations.” His demeanor had completely changed in a second. He was personable and calm talking to her. And then he looked at Emma and the coldness returned.
“Let me know if I can do anything for you, alright?”
“Alright, lass. Thank you again.” Killian gave Aurora a nod before she walked away from him to do her own work. Killian turned to address Emma. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Don’t.”
“Let me explain.”
He held up his hand to stop her. “No. You don’t get to speak. I don’t want your pity story.”
“It wasn’t a pity story.”
“Please,” he scoffed.
“Killian, please.” Emma tried her best to stay calm. Yelling back at him wasn’t going to help the situation.
“You gave me the story because you felt bad for me.” His accent was even stronger when he was yelling.
“That’s not why-”
“I am perfectly capable of participating in this competition and winning on my own, and that includes beating you, Emma. I don’t need your help.” Her first name. Ouch. That was a new and unpleasant development.
“I know you’re capable! That wasn’t the point!”
“Save it. It was a pity story and we both know it.”
She could see that the words were uncomfortable coming out of his mouth. He didn’t mean any of this. He just needed to purge some of the swirling emotions he was dealing with.
“You didn’t have to take it.”
“You gave me a means to get ahead. I’m not dumb enough to give that up.”
“But-”
“I thought you were above the pity. That you understood. But now I see the truth,” he pushed on, not giving her a chance to get a single word out. “You gave me a story out of pity and I took it because it puts me ahead in the competition. That’s it. And now I’m done with this conversation, much like I’m done with you.”
He inched closer to her with every sentence. When he finished speaking, she got a good look at him. He wasn’t angered. He was sad - really sad. Devastated and scared and… broken. He walked away, leaving her struggling to figure out how to help him feel better when it was clear he wanted to be alone for a bit. She decided it was best to let him have that time, then she’d try. But until then, she was back to being a lone wolf in the competition.
What compelled Emma to go to Virginia and attend Liam’s funeral was beyond her. Killian was currently giving her the silent treatment. She shouldn’t have wanted to be there for him. But the look in his eyes when he’d yelled at her - he was lost. She knew the look; she’d had that look once.
So she showed up, despite everything in her telling her she had no business being there. What if he was still mad at her and didn’t want her there? God, she’d never even met Liam. What was she doing there?
Well, too late to back out now.
Emma hid, positioning herself behind a tree and behind the service. She stared at the backs of the heads in front of her - heads of Liam’s family and friends, all mourning the death of someone Emma had never met. She caught a glimpse of Killian standing over a coffin with an American flag draped over it. He was next to a woman - she must have been the fiancee, Elsa. She had her arm around Killian’s waist, the other holding a tissue to her face. Killian looked at his watch, nodded to two men in uniform - naval officers - and sat down next to Elsa.
Emma was far enough away that hearing what was being said about Liam was a challenge, but she picked up on bits and pieces. Everyone saw him as a hero - not just Killian. And he was friendly to literally everyone he met. And Killian hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told her that Liam had raised him. Everyone in attendance seemed to know what the brothers had gone through. And Emma heard - multiple times - how Liam had always talked about how proud he was of Killian. She saw Killian’s shoulders sag a little more every time it was mentioned.
The officers folded the flag that was draped over the coffin and handed it to Killian. He stood and shook the officers’ hands. The rest of the crowd stood as the coffin was lowered into the grave.
The whole ceremony was beautiful - fitting for a man who died while in active duty. The officers left first. People lined up to talk to Killian and Elsa. Emma grew more nervous as people left. By the time the crowd had dwindled down to just Killian and his almost-sister-in-law, Emma was already well into considering leaving. She had no business being there. But when Killian and Elsa hugged and Elsa left to go home, leaving Killian to have a moment alone with his brother, she knew it was now or never. She had originally planned on giving Killian some time alone with Liam for closure or whatnot, but when she saw him sit on the wet grass next to the open grave, she changed her mind. He shouldn’t be alone. Stepping quietly out from behind the tree, she silently came up behind him.
“Jones,” her voice was far steadier than she anticipated. Killian’s head jerked around to look at her. Even from a few feet away, she could see the red around his eyes.
“Swan? What are you...” he trailed off as she approached him.
“I’m sorry.” There was more in those two words than just her condolences. Killian seemed to get that. His eyes widened and he nodded softly, taking a deep breath. He stayed silent. Emma had never known him to not have some witty comment or backhanded compliment. It was weird. She had to break the silence. “I didn’t think you should be alone.” His eyes widened even more.
“I’m hardly alone, Swan, as you saw.” She narrowed her eyes in question. “I’m assuming you were around for the service, judging by the wetness of your dress.”
She looked down at her black dress, completely unaware the drizzle had soaked in so deeply. Her cheeks reddened.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know.” And there was more to those two words as well.
“It was a nice ceremony,” Emma tried again as she sat down. Killian stared out in the distance, looking just above Liam’s grave.
“It was.”
“Your brother was a hero.”
“Aye. That he was.” Killian reached into his pocket and pulled out a badge. “This is a Naval Cross. They gave it to me on Liam’s behalf. I wanted to bury it with him, but the officers told me to keep it for myself. So it’ll be like I have a piece of Liam still with me.” Killian’s gaze moved from the distance to the grass under his legs. He still didn’t look at the grave.
“You have the flag, too. Right?”
Killian shook his head and laughed dryly.
“We’re not even American - not really. Just served in the Navy.” Emma said nothing. “Liam always wanted to be a ‘Navy Man.’ He wanted to serve in the Royal Navy. But we had no desire to remain in the country where our mother fell ill and our father abandoned us, so we moved to the States. We joined the Navy here; he loved it. But we’re - or we were, I guess - British. Having an American flag as memento of him wouldn’t feel right.”
Emma’s silence continued. She didn’t know what to say. She was pretty sure there was no way to make someone who just lost his brother and father-figure feel better.
“Besides,” he continued, “I wanted Elsa to have something of Liam’s. I gave her the flag. They were to be married soon. It would have been hers if they were. It seemed right.”
“It was right.” She wasn’t great at comforting, but he needed to know he did the right thing. She knew that Liam was always so much of a hero that Killian felt he could never live up to the bar the elder brother set, and Emma made it her mission to show him how amazing he really was.
Emma moved her own gaze from the horizon to the man in front of her - the man whose wall of innuendo and sarcasm was finally down.
“Thanks for coming, Swan,” Killian took a deep breath and met Emma’s eyes with his own. “After I yelled at you back at the office, I wasn’t sure you’d ever speak to me again.”
“Don’t worry about it. You were upset and I never should have given up the story for you.”
He shook his head.
“That doesn’t excuse my outburst. I apologize.”
“It’s okay.” They sat in silence for a long moment. “You can yell at me all you want. I still wasn’t going to let you be alone today.”
“Thank you, Swan. It’s nice to have a friend, and someone who didn’t know Liam.” He sighed. “Everyone knows Liam was a hero. He was always a hero. He was a hero after my mother died, helping my father and going to work to make money so we could survive. He was a hero when my father abandoned us. He was a hero when I was a mouthy, rebellious, bloody awful teenager. And he was a hero when we both joined the Navy together. He was a bloody good captain. He was the hero again when I got hurt.”
Killian took the black glove off his prosthetic hand. There was something incredibly intimate about the act. Emma didn’t miss that. So she took the newly-exposed appendage in her own hand. She didn’t miss the way he held his breath.
She also didn’t miss the deep breath Killian took before he continued.
“And he was a hero on that last day. If only he hadn’t been so damn heroic, he would still be alive. He saved them. He saved every one of his crew members.” He paused. “He was a hero to a fault.” Killian’s voice broke and Emma watched tears slide down his cheek. He let out a watery laugh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Sorry, Swan. You’re here to help me feel better and I’m feeling sorry for myself because my brother couldn’t stop being a hero for two seconds.”
“It’s okay,” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You have every right to be upset, especially now.” She tilted her head toward the grave.
She watched something in Killian’s face change - soften, but she was completely unprepared as he pulled her in for a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and rubbed soothing circles on his back as he let himself break down for the first time that day. He had cried, sure, but now he was sobbing - uncontrolled, uncontained.
And this was different. In this interaction, their whole relationship was changing - and they both knew it. They’d figure out what the hell was going on with themselves later. But for now, Emma was content to sit there, in front of Liam Jones’ open grave, and let Killian Jones sob into her shoulder.
This was it. They were about to find out the winner of the competition. Emma and Killian sat in the conference room, which suddenly felt all too large without the other competitors. Everyone else had slowly been eliminated over the past couple weeks, and it was now down to the pair of them. Emma glanced over at Killian when he elbowed her.
“Good luck, Swan.” He smiled at her, but she knew how badly he wanted the spot for himself, and she could see how nervous he was.
“Good luck, Killian.” She sent him a reassuring smile and took his hand, which was resting on the table. He gave her hand a light squeeze when their competition ringleader came into the room one final time.
“Ready to find out who won?” Emma nodded and Killian mumbled something unintelligible in reply. “I have a couple surprises for you.”
Emma’s head turned quickly when she heard a group of people walk into the room. She felt herself smiling when she saw her eight former competitors take seats around the table. There was a murmur of “congratulations” and “I knew it would be you two,” and Emma was overwhelmed in the best way.
Things got even more overwhelming when Robert Siegel walked in after the group of reporters. She and Killian shared a look. She was growing more anxious by the minute.
“Congratulations to both of you,” Robert Siegel began. “The executives and donors debated for quite a while on which one of you should get the spot. The final vote was not unanimous, and you should both be extremely proud of the work you’ve done.” Emma’s grip on Killian’s hand got tighter. “The winner of the new ‘All Things Considered’ hosting position, and my replacement is,” he paused for dramatic effect. Emma may have stopped breathing. “Emma Swan. Congratulations!”
Emma froze. She probably smiled, but she really couldn’t be sure. She’d actually won. She’d just gotten her dream job. She smiled, full of pride, and thanked Robert Siegel for the news. Killian looked at her, beaming with pride for her, and congratulated her, along with the other competitors. But even through the ear-to-ear smile plastered on Killian’s face, she could see the hint of disappointment in his eyes. He’d wanted that spot. She thanked him and pulled him into a hug, which she would claim was in utter joy from winning and absolutely not to comfort him. Not at all. He wouldn't want her to focus on him when she just won her dream job.
“You did it, Swan,” he whispered into her hair. She grinned even wider against his chest.
“Killian,” Robert Siegel interrupted. Emma pulled away so Killian could give the soon-to-be former host his attention. “I actually have some news for you as well. First of all, you almost won the entire competition with the piece you did on the number of Naval deaths this year. Everyone was really impressed with the work you did on that story.” Emma nudged him with her elbow. “But overall, Emma’s work was closer to the work done by a host. However,” he emphasized the word, “ the donors and executives admired your quality of work throughout the competition, and NPR would like to offer you a position as head of a new department, covering the armed forces. You would lead the entire department, but your focus would be on the Navy.” Killian’s face lit up and Emma was already hugging him again, wishing him a congratulations through her still-smiling face.
“Liam would be proud of you,” she whispered. His eyes expressed all the appreciation his mouth couldn’t while he was busy thanking other people for their congratulations.
They would both be working at NPR. That was definitely a sign, and Emma wasn’t going to ignore this one.
After Robert Siegel gave them instructions for what to do next and when they would both start, Emma pulled Killian to the back corner of the room - in front of the complimentary coffee - and pulled him down for a kiss by the lapels of that stupidly well-fitting leather jacket.
Some conscious part of her mind kept reminding her that they were in their future place of employment, so she pulled away, both of them wearing matching smiles. She let out a laugh of disbelief. “We did it.”
“Swan, let’s go for a drive.”
“What?” Emma looked up from her laptop to see Killian dangling his car keys on his prosthetic hand.
“The car. Let’s get in it.” He was grinning at her.
She crossed her arms. They’d been dating for long enough now that Emma could tell in a second when Killian was up to something. And he was definitely up to something. “Why?”
“‘It’s Been a Minute’ is on.” He was still grinning.
“So? We don’t listen to it every week. And contrary to what you seem to believe, just because we work for NPR doesn’t mean we need to listen to every show every day.”
He closed the distance between himself and his girlfriend and closed her laptop before putting it onto their coffee table in front of Emma. He held his hand out for her. She kept her arms crossed and rolled her eyes.
“I think you’re going to want to listen to this one.”
“Okay, so we’ll listen from the laptop.” He shook his head. “From the stereo.” He was still shaking his head. “You know it’s a podcast, right? We can listen to it whenever we want.” He just grinned even more and tapped his foot overdramatically. She sighed in defeat and took his still-outstretched hand.
Killian led Emma to his car, opening her door for her. She rolled her eyes again. He pretended not to notice.
Once they’d been on the road for five minutes in silence, minus Sam Sanders’ voice coming from the speakers, Emma turned to Killian.
“Where are we going?”
“Spoilers, Swan.”
He kept his eyes trained on the road. Whatever he was up to was weighing heavily on his mind. She could see it.
“You are impossible.”
He shrugged in response. Smug idiot.
Emma went to change the station. Neither of them were really listening to the show.
“No, no, no,” he raised his voice.
“What? You’re obviously not listening. I’m too busy trying to figure out where we’re going to listen. Let’s put on music or something.” She put her hand in her lap anyway.
“Just keep it on. And I am listening.” She knew he wasn’t.
“You know Sam won’t know if we’re listening or not. Relax.” Emma wished he would turn to look at her. It was really hard to read him when he was so focused on the road.
“This isn’t about Sam, love. I promise it will be worth it. Just leave it on.”
Emma let out a “hmph,” but left the podcast running. She kept looking at Killian, suspicious at his out-of-character silence. Sighing quietly, she looked out the window again, vaguely aware that Sam Sanders, Linda Holmes, and Kelly McEvers were still talking on the podcast.
“Killian, you’re literally driving in circles. We’ve been past this street before.”
He just chuckled to himself and sighed, but he seemed perfectly content with the situation.
“Just keep listening.” Emma crossed her arms and sunk into her seat in defeat.
“You know I was being productive back home.” She actually didn’t care that much anymore, but she was nothing if not stubborn.
“It’ll be worth your while.”
“Are you being cryptically vague for a reason?” He laughed in response.
“You aren’t listening, love.”
“No offense to Sam or anything, but I’m really not all that into how much TV Trump watches.”
“Well, I can hardly blame you for that, but bear with me.” She had no response. “Besides, we’re almost there.”
“Where? We’ve been driving back and forth for almost 45 minutes.”
“I did that so we could listen, which you haven’t been doing much of.” She knew that if he weren’t driving, he would have punctuated that accusation with a nose boop. Emma found herself smiling at the thought against her will. She stayed silent for the remainder of the trip, actually trying to listen to the podcast.
“And now it’s time for my favorite part of the show - the part where we listen to the best part of your week. We encourage listeners to brag, and they always do. Record an audio of yourself telling us the best part of your week, and send your audio to [email protected]. We play as many as we can. Let’s hear them.”
“We’re here, Swan.”
“The U.S. National Arboretum?” Emma read the sign in front of what appeared to be the Visitor Center. Killian nodded, but didn’t move. “Are we getting out of the car?”
“Yup.” Killian popped the “p” before he walked around the car to Emma’s door. He opened it, smiling. His eyes were even bluer than usual. He held out one of his earbuds for Emma to take. He had the podcast downloaded to his phone - of course he did. Emma took it, playing along with whatever he was up to. They walked around the arboretum hand-in-hand - through cherry blossom trees and hollies and magnolias - until they got to the National Capitol Columns. Killian stopped them at rows of flowers in front of the columns, all of which were brightened by sunlight. Killian pushed Emma to keep listening to the last segment of the show.
“Hi, Sam. It’s Nate from New Jersey, and the best part of my week was finally getting to take my 4-year-old daughter to Disney World.” Okay, Emma had to admit that was adorable.
“Hey, Sam. It’s Killian Jones. The best part of my week was getting engaged.”
Emma’s jaw dropped.
“And that, of course, is NPR’s own Killian Jones, armed forces reporter. And his girlfriend is Emma Swan, host of ‘All Things Considered.’ NPR, bringing people together. Congrats, you guys!”
Emma heard the two guests on the podcast wish them well, but her jaw was still practically on the ground.
“Swan.” Killian got down on one knee and fumbled around in his jacket pocket for a little black box. “Emma Swan, from the moment I laid eyes on you our first day of the competition, I knew I wanted to end up here. We make quite a team, and you’re still here despite seeing me at my absolute lowest. So Emma Swan, would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She wanted to kiss that beyond-cute, hopeful look right off his face. “Will you, Emma Swan, marry me?” He lifted the lid of the box to reveal a diamond ring. It was simple, consisting of a diamond centered on the silver band, which was twisted on either side of the diamond. It was classic and gorgeous. He really knew her well. He raised his eyebrows, alerting her to the fact that she still hadn’t answered the question. Immediately, she started nodding.
“Yes! Yes, Killian.” He stood up and slid the ring onto her finger. It was a perfect fit. She probably shouldn’t have been surprised about that at this point. The sun made the diamond glisten. Emma never imagined she’d have a fairytale romance and an over-the-top proposal from a dashing hero, but here she was. She locked eyes with her brand new fiancé, happy tears threatening to spill from her eyes. One of her hands found the back of his neck and the other rested on his chest as they both leaned in and kissed - in front of the flowers and columns - for the first time as an engaged couple.
He gave her a minute to collect herself when they finally needed air enough to pull away, and neither one of them could stop smiling. He took her left hand in his right, enjoying the feeling of the silver band against his fingers.
“Shall we enjoy the rest of the arboretum, my love?” She nodded, dangerously close to letting out a giggle.
Walking through one of the gardens, Emma looked up at Killian. “You were pretty sure of yourself back there, huh?”
His eyebrows furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“You told Sam the best part of your week was getting engaged, not proposing. You must’ve been pretty sure I’d say yes.”
His prosthetic hand shot up to scratch behind his ear.
“I was strongly hoping you wouldn’t reject my proposal.”
She kissed his reddening cheek.
“You had nothing to worry about.”
#captain swan little bang#cslb#all things considered#captain swan#cs ff rec#cs ff#captain swan fanfic#liloproductions#sailingcaptainswan#best-left-hook-jones
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We have a WINNER! . Congrats Trey & B-Rad! They stayed until 11pm last night looking for the 3rd Clue! . Thanks to EVERYONE who participated in the Scavenger Hunt here at @newportonthelevee ! TheMadScientist will be cookin up events like this throughout the Holidays! Make sure you follow our IG for the newest drops! Remember, Fresh Tees Baked Daily @ NativeOTL! (at Native On The Levee) https://www.instagram.com/p/CVBMpjALr0B/?utm_medium=tumblr
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The Results Are IN!
First and foremost, I want to thank everyone for the auditions, and you are all winners. But in this instance, there are only three. So even though our Genny came back, another one of our cheerleaders decided to drop. So because of the droppings, I have decided to add two spots as well as a life insurance, who will act as an alternate in case we lose another one. So the newest members are. . . Irina Todd & Audrey Buchanan, as well as the life insurance girl, Ava Hannigan! Congrats ladies, come see Billie and Nikki for your uniforms and pom poms, and see you at practice!
@rinathemagicdragon @skip-to-my-tallulah @flava-ava
- Coach Cooper
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Congrats to the winner of our Gravity #photojojoweeklyphoto challenge, Viktory15! Our newest podcast is up so take a listen and you could be our next winner → http://bit.ly/PhotoaWeekChallenge33
#photography life#macro shot#golden hour#photo contest#photo inspiration#podcast#photography podcast#enter to win#picture perfect#nature photography#capture#reflection
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