#and then we figured it out down the line and i said :0000

[tangledinink]

my official campaign promise is that if wanderer wins their poll in the @tmntaucompetition then i'll drive to @vangh17a's house to personally shake their hand and give them a crisp high-five.

[wandering-bard-from-the-id]

Daughters of Arendelle - Chapter 44

Daughters of Arendelle - Chapter 44

Part II - War

Chapters 1 - 43 can be found at FF.Net

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12222767/1/Daughters-of-Arendelle

Chapter 44

September 14, 1840

 Darkness crept over the town as the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the mountains. The steady clip clop of horseshoes against cobblestones marked Elsa’s journey through the square.

 Several well-placed ice blasts, coupled with the announcement of Hans capture, had brought the war to an end. Lienz soldiers threw down their arms in surrender at the news.

 Satisfied her people were safe, the Queen made her way home.

 Elsa swayed in the saddle with the horse’s steady gait. The gentle rocking lulled her toward sleep’s welcoming embrace.

 Behind her, Kai and Olsen followed on foot. Rifles hung from their shoulders, ready should anyone be foolish enough to threaten the Queen.

 The town clock began to strike the hour.

 Startled by the mournful toll, Elsa jumped, blinking away the haze of sleep.

 Figures atop the tower, spun out for a macabre dance. The male figure’s head had been torn away by a cannon ball. His headless body made a welcoming bow to his female counterpart. She was unable to return the greeting. The top half of her body laid at the base of the tower in a splintered heap.

 Centuries of history and craftsmanship swept away in the blink of an eye. Elsa would have cried had she any energy left to do so.

 Street lanterns cast eerie shadows over the bodies of fallen soldiers lining the streets. The wounded had been collected long ago.

 Elsa passed, studying faces marked by black powder, dirt and blood, making many unrecognizable. She was ashamed to admit of the faces she did recognize, she could not match names to them.

 Anna would know their names, and the names of their families. Guilt overrode the flicker of relief at being unable to match the faces of orphans and widows to the slain men.

 Her sister could laugh and talk with them. Speak freely of their families and futures. It was harder for a Queen, who might one day have to send them off to die. And that day has come.

 She hunched forward in the saddle. Fingers curled tighter around the reins.

 Many wore the green uniform of Arendelle. Had they died fighting for or against her? So much death, and destruction. Because of me. Her stomach twisted at the thought. Fists clenched out of habit against ice. There was no ice to hold at bay. Its absence was overlooked in her fatigue.

 Townspeople wandered from the castle, spreading throughout the town. Some to check the status of their homes, others went in search of missing family members. They bowed to Elsa as she passed.

 Often from the darkness a cry of despair would ring out. Elsa closed her eyes against the wails. She’d seen the scene play out several times during the evening.

 Parents, lovers and children dropped to their knees in grief beside the bodies of loved ones found among the dead. Elsa tried to pass unnoticed. She told herself it was out of respect for their loss, not to avoid the pain in their tear stained eyes.

 At the castle bridge she stopped, her breath stolen away by a familiar face. Were it not for the crimson stain on his chest, Morten would have looked almost peaceful.

 Did Anna see him fall? Elsa shuddered at the thought. His loss would have devastated her. Another loss she had to face alone. Squeezing her eyes closed against an overwhelming rush of guilt, Elsa’s head bowed. She said a silent prayer over him.

 Unable to offer more, Elsa straightened. Teeth grit against the stabbing pain in her side. She reached for the wound, unable to feel it beneath the armor.

 Kai shot Olsen a concerned look. The Chamberlain moved to her side. “Your Majesty, there is nothing more to be done tonight. Perhaps, you should retire to the castle.”

 Tired blue eyes stared down at him. “Yes, I think…”

 “Queen Elsa!”

 Kai mumbled a curse as a slender man in a tattered green uniform approached. The glow of the street lanterns reflected off his bald head as he passed beneath them. Gunpowder, sweat and blood streaked his face.

 Olsen turned on the approaching man, bringing his rifle to the ready.

 The fatigue vanished from Elsa’s face. She turned Vor toward him. “Rear Admiral Raske, I’m pleased to see you.”

 He bowed. “And I you, Your Majesty. We had received reports of your, demise.”

 She allowed a corner of her mouth to rise. “As you can see, Admiral, the reports have been exaggerated. What is the status of the fleet?”

 He straightened, tucking his hat under one arm. “We’ve lost at least a dozen ships, and nearly every ship in the fleet has suffer damage or casualties. We were outnumbered and outgunned, but the men gave the bastards hell, ma’am.”

Kai coughed, his eyes cutting to Elsa.

 Raske’s face fell. He dipped into a bow, holding it. “Forgive my harsh language, Your Majesty.”

 Elsa’s head ducked with a soft giggle. “Given the day, I believe harsh language is the least of our worries, Admiral.” The humor slipped away. “Were there any survivors from the lost ships?”

 “Yes, ma’am,” He straightened, holding her gaze. “though a lot of good men were lost today.”

 “How many?” There was an ever so slight crack in her voice.

 “I don’t know yet, ma’am. We’re still searching for survivors and the dead. I should have a full report of damages and casualties by morning.”

 More orphans and widows. Elsa’s emotionless mask fell into place with the thought. “Very well. Thank you, Admiral.”

 “Your Majesty, it was your ice creature that turned the battle in our favor. Without it I fear the entire fleet would have been lost. It ripped through the enemy fleet with the fury of Ranagor.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Those that escaped it’s reach turned and fled for home. I doubt, we’ll see another Lienz flag on the horizon for years to come.” His humor slipped away. “It rescued many a man from a watery grave, keeping damaged ships afloat till the crews could get to safety. It’s been helping to rescue the survivors and recover the dead.”

 Elsa dipped her head at the praise. It did nothing to ease the set of her jaw. “Once the searches are complete, the creature will guard the fleet while repairs are made.”

 “Yes, ma’am. If I may take my leave, Your Majesty. I need to speak with Admiral Halldor.”

 “Of course.” She waved him off.

 He bowed and turned to leave.

 “Rear Admiral.”

 He paused mid-step, turning on his heel to face her. “Yes, Your Majesty?”

 “Please, relay my thanks to your men. Their service, loyalty, and sacrifice is greatly appreciated.”

 Raske came to attention and bowed. “I will, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

 She managed a small smile, dismissing him with a nod.

 He turned and hurried away.

 As he disappeared into the shadows, Elsa’s gaze fell on the damaged town clock. She drew a deep breath. Emotions swarmed over her, bringing with them a mental check list of horrors. Dead line the streets, half the fleet destroyed. Parts of the town lay in ruins. Her fists clenched hard against the reins. Anna’s hurt. Unable to hold back, she let the breath go with a heavy sigh. Her shoulders slumped with its release. “So many dead.”

 Olsen shouldered his rifle. “If not for you, and Princess Anna, there would have been many more, Your Majesty.”

 Kai folded his hands behind his back, never taking his eyes from her.

 Slumping further under the weight of her world, Elsa’s eyes closed. “They attacked because of me.”

 “No.” Kai said. “Do not mistake Tollak’s lies for truth. This attack was fueled by greed and glory. You are the Queen of Arendelle. The throne is your birthright. They have no right to question that.”

 “Haven’t they?” She snapped, unable to meet his gaze. “For years I hid my secret. Once it was revealed I nearly killed them.” She scoffed. “I’m surprised they didn’t demand my head after the thaw.”

 “Poppycock!” Kai stepped closer, forcing her to look at him. “I have watched you spend your entire life sacrificing for this land. You are, and have been, a good Queen. Arendelle is thriving in ways your father could never have imagined. Yes, there are a handful of traitors who wanted to remove you from the throne. Every monarch faces that. Do you not think your father’s enemies celebrated his death?”

 Elsa’s eyes narrowed, muscles tensed along her jaw. She didn’t speak.

 “You are the Queen. There will always be those who deem you unworthy or envy your position. And there will always be those who fear your magic. Good, they should be afraid. Your magic makes you a strong ally, and a formidable enemy. If they are too foolish to realize that, then leave their bones to bleach on the battlefield as a warning to others who would dare challenge you.”

 Elsa stared at him for a moment. “I…I don’t know what to say?”

 “You don’t have to say anything. You, are the Queen.”

 A corner of her mouth twitched upward. “So I am.”

 He straightened, tugging down his jacket. “Now, you have defeated two armies in as many days. The war is won, and the kingdom saved. Please, My Queen, go home.” With a deep bow he swept an arm toward the castle gates.

 Were it not for the pain in her side, she would have been tempted to lean down and kiss the bald spot atop his bowed head. “As you wish.” She dipped her head to him, patting a hand against Vor’s singed hair. “Let’s go home, girl.”

 Vor answered with a soft whinny.

 “Come along, gentlemen.” Elsa started for the gates.

 Kai rose, falling into his customary position behind her.

 Olsen’s grin widened into a smile as he moved to Kai’s side.

 They followed their Queen.

 0000

 Dressed in a clean night gown, Anna lay propped up by pillows, in the center of her bed. Damp bangs rested against the thin bandage wrapped around her forehead. Blood and dirt had been washed away, causing the bruises along her face to stand out against sun-reddened skin.

 Fingertips brushed over clean, crisp linen. Tired muscles eased deeper into the soft bedding. God, I never knew a bed could feel so good. I’m going to sleep for a week. She roused herself. After Elsa gets back.

 In the distance the town bell began to toll the hour. Where is she? I should have gone with her. Heavy bandages and a dull ache in her thigh, silenced those thoughts. Propped on a pillow, the leg continued to throb. She ran a hand over the bandages, careful to avoid the stitches beneath, it did nothing to ease the ache.

 Argh! I hate this! Dropping back into the pillows she flopped an arm over her head with a dramatic sigh. Bruised chest muscles cried out in protest. With more care she eased the arm down to rest on her stomach.

 Her nose crinkled at the faint smell of blood drifting off the stained clothes and armor piled in a far corner. Guess those will have to be burned. Shame, I really liked that skirt.  

 She covered a wide yawn, settling once more into the pillows. Her eyes drifted closed. Sleep crept upon her. Shadows of faces floated through the darkness. They drew closer. Blood and dirt could not hide their sadness.

 Anna found herself draw to them. Peder? Arian?

 The bed jolted, snatching her from the darkness. She gasped, jerking awake. “What…?”

 “Just adjusting the sheets, dear.”

 Shaking off the dream, Anna’s brow furrowed as she watched Gerda fuss with the bedding. It was the third time she’d adjusted them in the last few minutes.

 “Gerda, it’s fine.”

 Focused on her task, the handmaiden smoothed out the bedding with a hand. “Would you like another blanket, Your Highness?”

 “No.” Anna caught the hand in both of hers as it pulled the sheet up toward her neck. “Gerda, stop.”

 Gerda’s head snapped up at the gentle command.

 “Sit down.” Anna held onto the hand as she patted a spot next to her. “Please.”

 “Do you need anything, dear?” Gerda hesitated a moment before easing onto the edge of the bed.

 “No, I’m fine.” Shadowed faces haunted her thoughts. “I just…sit with me, please.” Desperate for contact, Anna pulled the hand up, placing a kiss upon hardened knuckles. Knotted veins crisscrossed over the back of the hand, spots Anna hadn’t noticed before peppered wrinkled skin.

 “Anna, dear, are you alright?” Fingers brushed hair away from her face, lightly tracing down a bruised cheek.

 “Yes.” Choked out pass the lump in her throat, brought on by the loving caress. “I’m fine.”  Her gaze drifted over the older woman’s face. Behind the love and concern staring back at her there was something else. Fatigue.

 Fears and pain gave way to concern. “You’ve been on the go all day. You should rest.”

 “I haven’t been up any longer than the rest of the staff.”

 Anna knew that was a lie. Gerda and Kai were always the first to rise.

 “I will rest, once you and Her Majesty are settled.”

 “Gerda, there are others who can do that. Go, get some sleep.”

 Something akin to pain flashed in the woman’s eyes. “You think I’m not able to care for you?”

 “What? No! I didn’t say that.” Anna wrapped the hand in both of hers, clutching it to her chest. “Of course, you’re able to care for me, and Elsa. We’d be lost without you.”

 Tension eased in the woman’s shoulders.  

 “I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to overdo it.”

 Gerda cupped her cheek. “I assure you I’m fine. It’ll take more than a spoiled prince and a war to stop me.”

 Tears sprang to Anna’s eyes. She chuckled, grabbing hold of Gerda’s jacket. Her fingers twisted into the wool as she pulled her in for a hug.

 Once more Anna found herself in a familiar, comforting embrace. She snuggled in, burying her face against a shoulder.

 “You’re safe now.” Gerda’s voice hitched. “You’re safe.” Her grip tightened.

 So many dead. So much pain. How are we going to fix it? Anna shuddered, her fingers twisted deeper into the wool jacket.

 “Anna, dear, are you alright?”

 “I’m fine.” Anna’s eyes squeezed tighter against tears threatening to escape.  

 “I have your dinner, Your Highness.” Margit entered carrying a food tray.

 “I’ll take that.” Gerda broke free, before Anna could protest. She stood wiping at her eyes and snatched the tray from the young maid. “Get those soiled clothes down to the laundry, please.” She nodded toward the pile.

 “What about the armor?”

 “Take it all. Here you go, Princess.” Gerda sat the tray on Anna’s lap, careful of her leg. She pulled a linen napkin from the tray and spread it over Anna’s chest.

 “Thank you, Margit.” Anna offered her a tired smile.

 “You’re welcome, Your Highness.” Margit managed a half smile despite a busted upper lip and bruising. One eye was swollen, no doubt it would be black by morning. She began to gather the clothes, tucking them into the armor.  

 Olaf entered, humming a happy tune. He bounced onto the foot of the bed, careful to avoid Anna’s feet.

 Gerda sat on the edge of the bed. She took a bottle from her pocket and spooned two teaspoons of amber liquid into the teacup.

 Anna’s brow furrowed as she watched her pour tea, cream and sugar into the cup and stir. “What’s that?”

 “Medicine.” Gerda held the cup out to her.

 “What kind of medicine?” Anna eyed the cup without taking it.

 “The kind that makes you better. Now, drink. The doctor wants you to have lots of fluids.”

 Anna took the cup and sniffed. Her nose crinkled. “It smells like wet hay.”

 “Stop dilly dallying, you need to drink all of it.”

 “Fine.” Anna drew a deep breath, tilted back her head and gulped it down. After a moment, she lowered the cup, gasping for air. “That’s horrible.”

 “Good. Maybe you’ll remember that the next time you decide to get into a sword fight.” Gerda took the empty cup and refilled it with tea, adding a healthy dose of cream and sugar.

 Alma stepped into the room as Margit left.

 “Gerda, I’ve received word from the gate guard, the Queen is approaching.”

 “Elsa’s back?!” Anna shifted, causing the tray to tilt.

 “Anna!” Gerda caught it, before the pot reached the edge. “Be careful. You’re going to dump hot tea in your lap.”

 “Sorry.” Anna sank back into the pillows. Gerda usually reserved such harsh tones for when she’d been caught raiding the kitchen chocolate supply.

 “I just want to see her.” Anna’s lower lip rolled out with the plea.

 “Do you really believe your sister would return and not check in on you? Just give her time to get here.” She stood and stroked a hand over Anna’s hair. “Finish eating.”

 Gerda started to turn away, paused and leaned in to place a kiss atop Anna’s head. She lingered a moment. “I’ll be back soon. If you need anything let Alma know.”

 Anna mumbled an okay around a mouthful of sandwich.

 “Alma, I’m going to see to the Queen. Make sure the Princess drinks more of her tea.” Not waiting for an answer, she disappeared out the door.

 0000

 “Welcome home, Your Majesty.”

 Elsa’s head snapped up. Despite her fatigue a smile rose at the handmaiden’s greeting.

 Gerda curtsied. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

 “Thank you, Gerda.” Amusement played over her lip at the gentle hint of scolding laced in the warm greeting. She trudged up the castle portico steps.

 There was an overpowering urge to pull the woman into a hug as they passed in the doorway. Not trusting her emotions, Elsa placed a hand atop Gerda’s arm with a gentle pat.

 There was a flinch, pain flashed over Gerda’s features.

 “You’re hurt.” All thoughts of conceal, don’t feel vanished as Elsa took the arm in both hands. Fingertips traced over the bandage.

 “It’s just a scratch, ma’am. I’m fine.”

 Elsa’s brow arched. “Just fine?”

 “I assure you, it’s nothing serious, My Lady.” Gerda reached up, cupping a pale cheek with her ungloved hand.

 Warmth spread over Elsa’s cheek. Craving more she leaned into the touch, closing her eyes.  

 “You should head upstairs, ma’am. The hour grows late, it has been an, eventful, day.”

 Laughter roused Elsa, her eyes fluttered opened. She fought the urge to rub them. “An eventful day? You have a gift for understatement, Gerda.” Struck by an overwhelming urge to lay down, Elsa started for the main staircase. “Let’s check on, Anna.”

 Gerda fell in step beside her. “She’s been asking for you.”

 “I’m sure she has.” Slender fingers wrapped around the banister. “Has the doctor examined her?”

 “Yes, ma’am. He finished about half an hour ago.”

 Elsa leaned heavily on the banister, it became a struggle to pull herself up each step. “How is she?”

 “All things considered, she’s doing well, ma’am. Her leg was the worst of it, took a dozen stitches to close the wound. Doctor Engen ordered bedrest for a few days, we’re to watch for any signs of infection. I gave her some medicine, it should help her sleep.”

 “How is her head?”

 “Solid as a rock, it’s a wonder she didn’t crack the courtyard stones.” There was relief in the jest.

 Elsa giggled.

 “I sent Forde to find the doctor. He’ll be waiting for you at your chambers, ma’am.”

 “Thank you. Captain Olsen,” Elsa called over her shoulder, pulling herself up the next step. Leg muscles began to quiver. “I need you to take two wagons to the Valley of the Living Rocks. You’ll find Kristoff, Lieutenant Nickolas and the others there. Please bring them home. Kai, I’d like you to go with him. Corporal Smyth will help you load the wounded.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Kai followed behind Gerda.

 “I’ll have the wagons ready within the hour, ma’am.” said Olsen.

 “No,” She paused to look back at him. “it can wait till morning. They are safe for tonight. We could all use a good night’s sleep before facing tomorrow’s challenges.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Olsen nodded.

 Elsa held his gaze. “And Captain, anything you see in the Valley of the Living Rocks should be treated as a Crown secret.”

 His eyes cut to Gerda and Kai, neither met his gaze. “Begging your pardon, ma’am, but what might I be seeing?”

 “Let’s just say the Valley of the Living Rocks, lives up to its name. Just follow Kristoff’s instructions and you’ll be fine.”

 He was unable to hide his uncertainty. “Yes, ma’am.”

 “Are Master Kristoff’s wounds serious, ma’am?” Gerda said.

 “Nothing he won’t recover from.” Elsa smiled, touched by her concern.

 “Good.”

 Elsa moved to the next step, her leg buckled. She stumbled, clutching at the railing.

 “Queen Elsa!” Gerda caught her arm, unaware of the painful jolt it caused.

 “Ma’am!”

“Your Majesty!”

 Kai and Olsen moved in, neither touched her.

 Pale cheeks grew lighter. The staircase spun out of focus. Elsa closed her eyes against a wave of nausea. “I’m alright.”

 An arm slipped around her waist, steadying her. She leaned into the embrace, her head coming to rest on a soft shoulder. “Gerda, we need a shorter staircase.”

 “I’ll speak with the master carpenter in the morning, ma’am.” She motioned to Kai.

 Elsa giggled, ignoring the throbbing in her side.

 “Your Majesty, you’re exhausted. Let Kai carried you.” Gerda stroked a hand over blond hair. She frowned at the thin layer of sweat covering her hand.

 “No.” Elsa tried to move forward. Leg muscles refused the command.

 “My Lady, please. You’re going to hurt yourself.”

 “Fine. But only to the top of the stairs.”

 “Yes, ma’am.” Gerda nodded to him.

 Kai’s warm smile made it hard to glare at the man. She allowed him to sweep her up into his arms. Embarrassed by the circumstances, Elsa kept her gaze forward. As they climbed, her head began to nod. Finally, it came to rest against his shoulder. Sleep beckoned, her eyes eased closed.

 Gentle swaying roused Elsa. It was rather soothing. When did I board a ship? No, not a ship. Movement, walking. Panic seized her with the realization she was being held. “Let go…wait. Stop!”

 Kai stopped.

 “Put me down!”

 “Queen Elsa…” Gerda placed a gentle hand on her back.

 “Put, me down.” Her command left no room for debate. It still took a nod from Gerda before Kai lowered her feet to the floor.

 She took a step forward, swayed, arms flailing for balance.

 Gerda caught one arm, Kai the other. He was careful to avoid the bandage.

 “Why don’t we get you to your chambers, ma’am, and let the doctor have a look at you?” Gerda gave a gentle tug, pulling her forward.

 “After I see Anna.”

 “Your Majesty, please…” Kai protested.

 “This is not up for debate. I’m going to see my sister.” Elsa looked between the couple, daring them to challenge her.

 “I don’t suppose,” Gerda shifted her grip to better support the arm. Her gaze straight ahead as she eased Elsa into a slow walk. “It would do any good to point out, you can barely stand, and your sister is probably asleep by now?”

 “I still want to see her.” Elsa gave the woman’s hand a gentle squeeze.

 “Very well,” Gerda tsked. “let’s get on with it then. The sooner you two say your good nights, the sooner we can get you settled.”

 “Thank you.” Elsa leaned into the embrace, a smile played over her lips.

[subasekabang]

The World Ended With You, Chapter 6

Author: Mizuki

Rating: T

Word Count: 1101 of 8736  

Pairings/Characters: Neku Sakuraba, Shiki Misaki, Eri, Yoshiya Kiryu, Daisukenojo Bito, Raimu Bito, Sanae Hanekoma  

Warnings: Light Gore

Summary: Shibuya, a once lively city, now stained with the blood of the unfit. A young orphan, Neku Sakuraba, is left alone to fend for himself. Due to the circumstances, he is forced to join a survivor group. If he has any will or hopes to survive, he needs to learn to trust and cooperate with others. Otherwise, he will be at the mercy of hell’s demons.

Chapter 6

I lay in bed, the mere passing seconds feeling like nails ragging against a chalkboard. Every tick of the monotonous clock felt like agony tick...tick...tick… My finger rapped against the wall impatiently, feeling every passing tick take a bit of my sanity away. Seconds passed like minutes, minutes like hours, hours like days. If I sleep, I might lose my chance, I can’t bear that reality. I cannot stand another day in this madhouse, I need to get out a.s.a.p. I ran over my plan a million times in my mind. Go to the vault, get a gun, go to the garage, turn off the electric fence then climb it. Then I’m free.

Finally, my time has come. The lights flickered off a few hours ago, marking curfew. Not for me, screw your curfew. I quietly shifted off the bed, trying to make as little noise as possible. Despite this a small ruffling sound came from my sheets. I walked over to the door, creaking it open slowly. I looked back to the silent figure in the corner.

“You didn’t see me.” I said to him silently before passing through the door, closing it behind me.

I crept down the stairs quietly before running across the dining area and through the medical tents medical tents. I tiptoed my way to the large metal door. Damn, what was the passcode again? I know I saw him enter it. Oh, right. I punched in the numbers ‘0303’. The door let out a beep before unlocking. I pulled the large silver handle. The door creaked and moaned as if it was rejecting my advance. I didn’t care. I slipped through. Behind the door was a large collection of guns. The whole back wall was stacked top to bottom with shotguns, rifles, and semi-automatic handhelds. I ran up and grabbed one of the black handhelds on one of the lower racks. Sliding the frame to the side, I stared down the empty port.

“Damn, no ammo” I cursed to myself.

I started to look around for some magazines. I soon found some resting on a table by a large safe. Grabbing a round, I slammed it into the handheld and pulling the slider back. It slid back with a click. I shoved the gun into my holster before looking for something else I should salvage. I should take some rations while I’m here, maybe some medical supplies too. I looked to the left, seeing shelves and shelves of food. I grabbed a few cans of beans and shoved them into my bag.

“Alright, time to break out.” I said to myself, exiting the vault, closing the door behind me. I skipped out to the garage. I snuck over to the control panel.

“Screw this up and you’ll wake up the whole damn place.” reminding myself as I scanned the makeshift labels made from masking tape. I scanned over rooms ranging through 0000 to 9999 to ‘cafeteria’, ‘kitchen’, ‘shower room B’, ‘shower room G’, and so on. Then I found it; ‘Fence Main’. I flipped the switch, great, now all I have to do is get outside. I ran out to the cafeteria before stopping dead in my tracks when I heard footsteps. Frantically, I looked around, deciding to hide behind a pillar. From there I could hear a passing conversation, one voice I’ve heard before, another I know all too well.

“See, no one’s here.” a gruff disembodied voice mumbled out, annoyed.

“But I swear I heard someone running around here!” The voice whined. “I heard a beep from the vault too!”

The stronger voice went silent.

“Are you sure? Mr.H is the only one who knows the code.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” the voice asserted.

“If that's the case...Should we tell him?”  

“Probably, Even if it’s nothing, we can’t be too safe.” The footsteps drifted off.

“Damnit.” I cursed to myself. “I have to get out, now.”

I ran to the basketball court. It was the only area I could think of that was outside. I pushed open the double doors, staring into the dark abyss I would soon join. A test can’t hurt, I picked up a stick, throwing it at the fence. No sparks came off. Good. I rushed up to the fence, threading my fingers through the chain links. I wanted to just push off but, for some strange reason, I stayed in place. As if cement blocks were tied to my feet, I couldn’t leave. Was I having second thoughts? If I leave I won’t go insane, right? What’s going to happen to me if I leave? I placed a foot in one of the links.

“You’ll die.”

A voice behind me stopped me completely, freezing me in my tracks. I slowly turned around to the source. I turned my head fully, he came into view, his dazzling white blanket coming into view.

He...He could talk?  

“You’ll die if you leave.”

“What...what the hell...!?” I mumbled in reply.

“You will die…”

His voice, he sounded genuinely terrified. His words shook me to the bone, sending shivers shooting up my spine. Just then, I heard a husky, breath behind me. I caught a whiff of a horrible smell. It was laced with the thick scent of blood and rotting flesh. My heart sank to my stomach as my sweat went cold. The boy looked completely aghast. His eyes looked like they were going to fall out of their sockets. His skin going ghost white with trembling lips. I could feel humid breaths on the back of my neck. The quiet growling from a gaping maw made my skin crawl. Despite the pure horror that must be behind me, I slowly turned around. My suspicion was confirmed. A large bear-like creature towered over me, seven or eight feet tall. It’s jaw, lined with jagged teeth, all dyed dark red along with the dirty fur above and below. It’s claws, large and still dripping blood. The thick scent of blood and tension filled the air. It let out a mighty roar and shook the fence violently. It sent me falling to the ground. My throat was so tight, I couldn't scream. All I could to is watch the beast vigorously shake the fence, while I lay paralyzed on the court, only propped up by my forearms. Every inch of skin, every muscle, every bone, every cell in my whole being wanting to scream so loudly that I would wake up the entire town. But I couldn’t. All I could do was stare, petrified.

[the-jax-fam]

Chapter 1 of the story that started it all. TW for language, war time, bombs, mentions of sex.

For Prologue read here: https://the-jax-fam.tumblr.com/post/668615061030436865/prologue-a-tale-of-obsession-jax-curran-just-his

Chapter 1: The News

Fang’s POV

Frieda Vent Fan County, November 2004

I still lived with my family. I was a virgin, I was a nerd. I might have had a job as a secret agent…

Ok I did. And there was a war on rock and metal.

“Well, I guess that’s it,” said my grandmother as the family watched the end of the presidential election on the news. “Grayson Banks has been re-elected.” In the shape of a Chihuahua, my shapeshifting alien friend Loki howled in despair and then let out a few choice curses. Not only did we hate the president for his policies, Loki and I were agents for the Harcourt Society. President Banks, and his organization People Protecting Our Future, were The Enemy. And we’d failed at sabotaging his campaign.

Loki’s wife Amber looked on with no discernable expression. Normal, I guess, for a cat, but it was strange that she didn’t share her husband’s interest in politics.

Mom, Grandma, and Grandaddy, all alcoholics, figured that this turn of events called for another beer. Once they left the room, I reached for the phone and called Hayl, who I was still dating. He also worked with the agency trying to take down Banks and PPOF.

“Hey baby boo,” I said. “Looks like we’ve got four more years of Banks.”

“Fuck,” he replied. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Then he gathered himself. “OK. So we have him for four more years…but there has to be something we can do.”

“We already did all we could to keep him out of office, and that sure did a lot of good!” It was true, we’d done all we could. Loki had even snapped some pictures of Banks cavorting about with prostitutes and doing drugs, and we’d uncovered some instances of sexual misconduct, but ironically that hadn’t stopped his anti-rock, anti-freedom base from voting for him. They loved the fact that he was trying to force people into following traditional values, even though he himself didn’t adhere to them.

But Hayl was more of an optimist than I. And when I say optimist, I mean it could be the last three minutes of the third period with four goals needed to tie up the game and he would still play as if victory was possible. A victory attributed, no doubt, to his amazing skill – he knew he was good and had dauntless faith in his ability to come up with Something Brilliant.

“Trust me,” Hayl promised. “We’ll talk about this more in person." He'd been splitting his time between the alien Headquarters in Alameda and their other Headquarters in my barn. 2004 was the year of the NHL lockout, but he still spent a lot of time at the arena honing his hockey skills.

I sighed. “Ok,” I said, knowing that with our line of work, talking about plans on the phone was a bad idea. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I hung the phone up and buried my face in my hands. I just knew things would get worse, and it turns out I was right. In the following days, supporters of Banks celebrated by making quite a ruckus – protesting outside of CD and book stores, having public burnings of works that encourage critical thinking, and even bombing rock n’ roll clubs. They had declared a full- blown war on rock and metal. Little did I know, the most devastating bombing was yet to come.

0000

It was only a few days later when the big event occurred. Hayl had come to stay with me. We never had sex – I was an 21 year old virgin who lived with her family and I wasn’t ashamed. Luckily, Kiiboo-Hayl didn’t pressure me to take things too fast. He just loved being with me and I loved being with him. He was warm and nice to cuddle and I loved the way it felt when I laid my head on his feathery chest. He’d sweetly caress my hair and give me compliments. Sometimes he would even sing to me and it was heavenly.

Anyway, that morning, Hayl and I woke up to my folks’ TV in the living room booming out devastating news.

“The home of 42-year-old Hollywood Hellhound singer Jax Curran was bombed last night!” the reporter announced. “It is believed that the reclusive rock star was in his Malibu home when the bombing occurred, and he is presumed dead until further notice.”

I was paralyzed by shock. Jax Curran. My obsession. Dead.

Fortunately, Hayl was spooning me and couldn’t see the silent tears that streamed my face. I felt like an idiot crying over some rock star I’d never met, especially one that was rumored to be the biggest asshole in the music business.

“Are you awake?” Hayl asked me.

I nodded silently. For some reason, I didn’t want him to see me crying. “You need to get to the arena,” I said, trying to keep a steady voice. “You have drills.”

Hayl knew me very well and could hear the tears in my voice. “Don’t cry over him,” he said. “He was a misogynist, against everything you stand for.”

For some reason that made me cry even worse. For years, I'd wondered if the Cur was really that bad. I'd spent many nights crying and praying that he would change his ways. Now it was too late.

“It’s not him I’m crying over,” I told Hayl and myself. “It’s the memories. My mom used to sing his songs to me when I was really young. She butchered them, of course, but it’s still a family memory.”

Hayl nodded. “I understand,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He slid out of the bed and began to get dressed. “Call me if you need me today,” he added. “I’ll miss practice if I have to, for you…I’ll make up a story about having Bird Flu or something. They don’t want a player showing up with the flu.”

I felt so guilty. I wanted Hayl to go practice so I could be alone with my miserable self. I couldn’t bear to look into his beautiful birdlike alien eyes so I kept mine closed. “I’m strong,” I promised him. “I’ll be OK.”

But I wasn’t OK. I stayed in bed long after Hayl left. Next, Mom called me from work. "I heard about Jax." she said. "I'm so sorry, honey. I know it hurts."

I balled. "I just want to go back to sleep and try not to think about it."

"I understand. If you want, I'll let you go."

"Please do."

So I tried to sleep, but my lead guitarist Ogilvie called and woke me up.

“Did you hear about Jax Curran?” asked the little twerp in his annoying, nasal voice. “He’s dead as a doornail.”

Of course he would bring that up in the most tactless manner possible.

“I heard about it,” I said gruffly. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well,” said Ogilvie, moving on to the next topic, “It’s time for practice. You need to stop sleeping all day.”

“Sleep is good for my voice,” I insisted.

“Wah, wah, wah. Come pick us up,” said the little twerp.

It sucked being the only one in the band with a vehicle. As depressed as I was, I took my music seriously, so I forced myself out of bed and into the van. I picked up my bandmates while wearing my pajamas.

On the way back to the house, all anyone would talk about was Jax Curran. I hadn't told my bandmates about my feelings for him. Even our bassist Doom, my best friend, didn't know.

“I think I’m somehow related to him,” said our drummer Slace. “I have his pretty red hair and high cheekbones.”

“My mom thinks he is, er, was, an ugly man,” said Doom. “She says redheads look like the devil.”

“I don’t think he was ugly,” said Slace, “but I do hear he was an asshole. I hear he made his ex-girlfriend –“

“ENOUGH!!!” I screamed. I didn’t want to hear the ex-girlfriend story. It was gross and disturbing. “The man’s dead. Don’t speak ill of the dead.” Tears streamed down my face.

“What?” asked the ever tactless Ogilvie. “Did you have a crush on him?”

“No!” I barked defensively. “Of course not. I never even met the dude and I do hear he was a woman-hater which is disgusting. But still, he’s dead, and he was a talented guy, so just shut up.”

“Ok, geesh,” said Ogilvie. “Who’d have known you’d be so sensitive about an old, dead, has-been rock star."

Now, needless to say, practice was torture. I couldn’t sing for crying. I couldn’t see my guitar strings through my tears. And all Ogilvie did was make it worse by pointing out the fact that a REAL guitarist wouldn’t need to see the guitar in order to play.

I literally hurled one of my grandmother’s candle holders at his head. Thankfully I missed.

We did write one song, but Doom insisted that it was too sad to ever be played live…it was called “One More Reason to Live.”

Doom tried her best to cheer me up. In between songs she’d pat me on the back. During break she even fixed me the last package of expensive ramen noodles while making the rest of the band settle for the store brand. But even her Best Friend magic was futile against my depression.

Finally, Practice was over. I conned my grandfather into driving the band home so I could hide away in my room and listen to Hollywood Hellhound

[accio-ambition]

Under Christmas’s Influence

Merry Christmas Sandy ( @tehgreeneyes )! I was fortunate enough to be your CS Secret Santa this year! I know we didn’t really talk much, but I really enjoyed what we did talk about. 12 Monkeys is now definitely on my to-watch list, with all the Googling I did to cameo it in here (I might have fallen into a vortex for a couple hours of distraction, but whatever). You said that one of your favorite tropes was fake!dating/engaged/married, so I wrote you a (not so) little fake!engaged Christmas story. I hope you don’t absolutely hate Hallmark Christmas movies, because that is where I drew a bit (aka a lot) of inspiration for this story. Merry Christmas!

(This is a long one, so you can read it on AO3 too in case it hurts your eyes.)

The call from his brother isn’t necessarily unexpected. It is Christmastime - the one time of year one starts reflecting on the past year and thinking about all the important people in one’s life. But since getting married last winter, shortly after Valentine’s Day, Killian’s barely heard from his brother or new sister-in-law. A postcard from the honeymoon, the occasional tag in a Facebook post, but otherwise, nothing.

It’s been difficult, he will admit, watching his brother go from bachelor to husband, but only in that selfish way where now Liam has to ask if he can accompany Killian on bar crawls or can’t make it to every football game during the season.

So when Liam does call as he walks in to his apartment after work one afternoon, Killian gladly answers it. It had been a long, trying day at work - depositions for most of the morning, then a conference call that lasted five hours with little time to eat or even use the restroom in between. Killian cannot wait to get out of his stuffy suit and tie, throw on his sweats, and watch T.V.

ESPN, he tells himself. There’s that important college game on tonight.

It’s a losing battle, though: it’s Christmastime, which means corny, completely unnecessary, totally unoriginal Christmas movies. The perfect remedy to the problems practicing the law could bring up.

Killian flips the light in his room on before immediately turning on the T.V. and muting it before answering his phone. He greets his brother just as some woman silently giggles at a man holding a dog.

Haven’t seen this one before.

“Little brother, my god, you are alive!” Liam says instead of hello.

“In the sense that I’m still alive and breathing, yes,” Killian quips back, putting his phone on speaker and proceeding to change out of his clothes. “Other than that, I’d hardly say I’m alive.”

Liam groans and Killian can just imagine his older brother slapping himself on the forehead. It’s his own fault, the sarcastic streak Killian has, though it does both of them wonders during certain situations, particularly during hard court cases.

While Killian chuckles, Liam’s groan transforms into a sigh. The change in mood is as unexpected as Liam’s phone call, but instead of asking about it, Killian lets the quiet ensue. If there’s one thing Killian’s learned about his big brother in his time on earth, it’s that, if something’s bothering Liam, he’ll say it.

So when Liam says, “I apologize for being an arse,” his younger brother can’t imagine what he’s managed to do wrong if they haven’t truly spoken in months.

“About what exactly, may I inquire?” Killian asks, changed and taking a seat at the edge of his bed. His eyes sort of glaze over as he stares at the screen. Another man’s face is contorted into some slimy smirk or grimace or something akin to that, looking after the woman with the puppy.

This plot would be so much simpler if I could hear what they were saying.

Killian fiddles with the remote, trying to find the button for subtitles or captions, while Liam continues. “I know I’ve been sort of…” he pauses just as the captions begin scrolling along the bottom of the screen, “neglecting you since I married.”

Shrugging, Killian reasons, “Your priorities have changed. You’ve got Belle now. All that marriage stuff. Honeymoons and thank you cards and on and on.”

“Yes, but you’ll always be my little brother.” This time, Killian groans, but it’s in the same way that he bemoans cheesy pickup lines and corny Christmas movie plots. It’s a sentiment he doesn’t exactly always feel this time of year, but when he does, it makes his heart grow like the Grinch’s.

“I’m still learning how to balance brotherhood with marriage, alright?”  Liam says, his voice a bit gruffer. “So I’m sorry if I made you feel poorly. I never meant to.”

“Worry not, Liam. I’ve gotten used to it.”

His older brother scoffs. “Now don’t say that,” he says. “You really make me feel like a horrendous person.”

Killian barks out a laugh. “You said it, not me.” Dramatically, he flops back on his mattress, letting his muscles relax into the comfort. It really has been a long day.

“So what’s going on in your life?” Liam asks in a friendly manner. “What have I missed?”

Killian opens his mouth to answer - it’s been months, there really is too much to cover in a single phone call - but it shuts quickly when he hears a key in the lock of his front door. There’s only one person in the world who’s got his spare key to his place.

While losing Liam as his automatic plus-one to all social events was a bummer, Killian’s managed to find solace in his neighbor, one Emma Swan, who barged into his life quite suddenly and hasn’t really allowed him a moment to recover since.

Liam just doesn’t know that.

Not quite yet.

And with all the time he’s had to theoretically prepare for this moment, Killian hasn’t the slightest idea how to tell his brother that the most important thing he’s missed in the past months isn’t an event, but a person.

0000

He’d briefly seen her move in, just a couple days after returning to his apartment from Liam and Belle’s wedding festivities. The door next to his propped open with a box overflowing with shoes and the grunts and groans of furniture-moving from within were dead giveaways. Still tired and a bit hungover, Killian resolved to introduce himself later. Maybe after he’d had a thorough shower.

Very thorough. I’m pretty sure someone vomited on me during the morning-after brunch, he thinks. I can still feel the grime on me.

And that’s all the thought he spares this new neighbor of his. Killian goes about showering and returning to the land of post-Liam’s-wedding. It isn’t until two or three Sundays later that the new neighbor crosses his mind again.

Settling down on the couch, Killian takes a deep breath. 12 Monkeys is set to premiere in mere minutes - perhaps not the best attempt at unwinding before what’s promised to be another tough work week, but he can’t even ponder the idea of dodging spoilers. Too much stress.

His eyes slide shut and the next thing he knows, the opening notes of the theme music float through his ears. Killian opens his eyes, hoping they clear in time for him to catch all the intricacies this episode might offer.

And then the pounding starts.

Someone incessantly bangs at his front door. Everyone who’s anybody important enough to him knows not to interrupt him during this time of the week. So he tries to ignore it, just let the complexities of Dr. Railly and James Cole’s adventures take him away.

But the knocking won’t stop.

“They’ve just got the wrong apartment,” he mumbles to himself.

“Open the door, 312! It’s an emergency!” a woman’s voice shouts through the door.

Apparently not.

An emergency could mean a slew of things: broken bones, burning buildings, a mouse in the shower. But if it’s either of the first two, he doesn’t want the woman’s injury on his conscience for the rest of his life. And Liam did raise him to be a gentleman. It wouldn’t be chivalrous to let the mouse run all over this woman’s apartment if she really didn’t want it to.

Eyes still glued to the TV, Killian walks and opens the front door. The only way he can tell that the blonde hurricane that rushes by him is a person is the brush of hair against his arm and the aforementioned tone of voice.

“Excuse me,” he says, watching as she takes his seat on his couch to, what seems like, watch his T.V. “Can I help you?”

“My cable isn’t working and I heard the theme song through the walls.” Her words are direct, offering no other option except for the fact that she’s in his apartment during his show. Eyes on the screen, the woman pats the cushion next to her. “Close the door and sit the fuck down.”

And despite the fact that she’s the one that barged into his apartment, Killian does as she requests: a bit stunned, he shuts the door and ambles over to the couch, barely able to focus in on the show unfolding before them.

“Who are you?” he inquires, easing himself on to the cushion she’d indicated.

“311,” she replies.

“Lovely to meet you, 311. Is that the name - “

She shushes him, her hand waving next to him, gaze still intent on Cassie as she’s deep in conversation with some character Killian hadn’t even known existed. “Wait until commercials. Then talk.”

Again, Killian surprises himself by following her instructions. Between commercials, he manages to get a little more information out of her through hesitantly asked questions. Emma Swan, she says, apartment 311, moved in a month or so ago after escaping from bailbonds and getting something a little more efficient (and probably safer) in law enforcement.

But that’s all he gets that first night, aside from the few physical descriptors he gets from her profile. Otherwise, she’s silent, intent on trying to figure out the twists and turns the show keeps throwing at them. And, man, even as distracted as he is, even he can tell that this season is bound to be a gamechanger.

When the episode is finished, she quietly thanks him, a much different tone from earlier, and leaves his apartment with a completely changed demeanor. But just before his front door shuts between them, Killian sticks his foot in the jamb.

“Next week?” he asks. She - Emma - turns gently, eyebrow raised and eyes squinting at him with confusion. She’s wary, for some reason or another. Swallowing nervously, Killian repeats himself. “Would you like to come over for next week’s episode?”

Taking a step back, Emma’s tongue peeks out between her lips. “My cable should be fixed by then,” she says.

“Oh.” That’s a bit of a letdown. Then again, as he’s constantly had to remind himself tonight, she hadn’t really given him much to go on about her personal life except that her cable was out.

He’s always been up for a challenge, especially one as beguiling as the show that unintentionally brought them together. For now.

“Regardless, you’re more than welcome to come, Swan,” he tells her. Gesturing toward the door, Killian also suggests, “Perhaps knock a bit gentler next time.”

He watches Emma struggle to hold back a grin, her fingers wringing around each other. “Maybe,” is all she deigns for an answer. Her eyelashes flutter against her cheekbones and that’s not something Killian usually notices with anybody. With a silent nod, she takes the five or so steps back to her front door and goes back home.

Killian lingers in the doorway far longer than appropriate.

The next Sunday, he’s settling into the couch, ten minutes to showtime, when a much more hesitant knock sounds at his door. Killian can’t help the smile that crosses his face as he approaches the door.

When he opens it, Emma stands on the other side, both hands holding a plastic bag between then. When he glances down at it, she struggles to hold it up on display.

“Apology Chinese?” she says by way of greeting, her lower lip getting stuck between her teeth. Bringing the bag back toward the ground, she adds, “I’m sorry I forced myself into your apartment last weekend.”

Killian’s already shaking his head before she’s completed her thought. “Completely understandable,” he remarks. “The cable was down.”

Chuckling, Emma shuffles her feet. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who sees that as an emergency.”

It takes an exorbitant amount of time for Killian to stop nodding like the village idiot. But when he does, he takes a step back and waves her into his apartment. “Please, do come in,” he offers. “You made it just in the nick of time.”

And the rest, he likes to say, is history.

0000

“Killian!” The shout is followed by slam of the front door. “Killian, where are you? I need to complain to you about my day and then drink all your booze.”

He’s up quicker than he thought possible at this time in the evening. Killian slides down the hardwood floors into the living room, silently and frantically slicing his hand across his throat and mouthing shut up!

Emma just stares at him with befuddlement in her eyes. She briefly mimics his motions.

“Are you having a fucking stroke?” she asks, coming up to him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Bringing his phone down to his chest to cover the speaker, Killian whisper-shouts, “It’s my brother,” just as he can hear Liam on the other end of the line. His voice is muffled, of course, what with the shirt and all, but even from here, Killian can tell his brother’s tone is adamant and desirous of information.

Emma, on the other hand, is dumbstruck. Those green green eyes of hers are blown wide with surprise. She tiptoes away and sinks into the corner of the couch, pulling one of decorative pillows he threw on there when he first moved in a couple years ago into her lap and squishing it.

“Sorry,” she whispers, hiding the lower half of her face with the pillow, presumably trying to protect herself from the blush of embarrassment rising on her cheeks.

Killian sighs and shakes his head. He walks over behind the couch and rests his empty hand on the top of her head, running his fingers through the hair that catches there. When he finally puts his phone back to his ear, Killian just catches the tail end of Liam’s barrage of questions.

“Who was that, little brother?” Liam asks.

“No one,” Killian answers too swiftly. He feels pressure on his hand, Emma leaning into his hold, before she gets up and heads toward the kitchen.

Probably to start drinking that booze she mentioned, he thinks.

Liam catches his attention once more. “Killian, I can’t even see you and I know you’re lying through your teeth.”

Unconsciously, Killian’s hand raises and scratches at the skin behind his ear. “So?” he asks, his brother losing his focus as Emma finds whatever poison she was searching for and takes her seat back on the couch, cup in hand.

“So, I’m your older brother,” Liam explains. “You’ve got to tell me.”

“Have not.”

“Have so.” Liam doesn’t say anything for another moment before pleading, “C’mon, Killian.”

Sighing, Killian looks at Emma again. He’s not sure why he hasn’t told Liam about Emma yet, lack of communication in the past few months aside. It’s always been his little secret, almost - a secret friend who’s come to rely on him for alcohol and support and who knows what else.

Emma turns on the T.V. in the living room, already on the Hallmark channel from last night’s bad movie binge. She mutes it, but Killian doesn’t need the dialogue. It must be the end of the movie, the main characters standing at the end of a church aisle.

“It’s just…” he hesitates.

“Yes?”

He knows it’s going to be a mess before he even comprehends what he actually says. “My fiancée?” He winces, the ends of Emma’s hair making some sort of noise as they whip around on the back of the couch. Killian can feel her staring at him.

“Fiancée?” Liam repeats, sounding just as disbelieving as Killian is that he actually said it. Killian hums in agreement as Emma’s green eyes go impossibly wider. Liam, on the other hand, grumps. “Bring her...Him?” Killian rolls his eyes and replies her. “Her to Christmas Eve dinner. You guys can stay with Belle and I and we can have a real Christmas morning.”

Moaning, Killian walks around to the front of the couch and takes a seat beside Emma. His free hand comes to rest on her knee, a move she mimics in solidarity. “I don’t know, Liam,” he says. “I really wouldn’t want to intrude on Belle and yours first Christmas as husband and wife. You should have - “

“Nonsense!” his brother shouts. “Christmas is about family. We should spend it together.”

“I thought Thanksgiving was about family,” Killian scoffs.

“You and I both know we have no bloody clue about these American holidays. We like to - “

“Keep good form as we go.” Next to him, Emma chuckles. He’s been known to say the same phrase on occasion. “I know, brother.”

“I know you know. It’s my job to remind you sometimes.” On Liam’s end of the conversation, something arises in the background, a scuffling sort of noise. It’s probably Belle, Killian thinks, making dinner or coming in from work. Liam’s voice is muffled as he probably greets him.

“I’ve kept you too long, haven’t I?” Killian asks once the racket on the other side signals his brother’s back on the line.

“No, no, I called you, remember?” Liam says. “I’ll let you get back to your -” he pauses, making his voice more suggestive, “-.fiancée.”

“Thanks.” There’s something hard to swallow around in his throat. “I’ll see you for Christmas Eve dinner, I suppose.”

“Yes, both of you will,” Liam bids, his last phrase a subtle reminder, before hanging up and spending the evening with his wife.

Killian, on the other hand, groans and throw his phone on the coffee table. He rubs his hands against his face.

“Fiancée?” Emma says calmly. “Really?”

Killian shrugs, his face warming with embarrassment. “I’m really bad at thinking on my feet.”

“How is that possible? You lie for a living!” Emma flops back on to her spot on the couch, really too semantic for her own good.

“No I don’t.” It's a point of discussion since the inception of their friendship: in her experience, Emma's seen attorneys lie and lie and Killian tries really hard not to.

But sometimes…

“I just sometimes have to spin the truth in a different.” Emma glares at him. “Ugh, I don’t know.” He throws his hands up in the air, exasperated. “I was watching one of those bad Hallmark Christmas movies and I guess their subliminal messaging worked.”

Scoffing, Emma turns back to the T.V., where one of said movies comes to its joyful conclusion. As always, there's unnecessary confetti that's definitely going to kill the birds, but no one cares about that because it's a low budget T.V. film. “I’ll be sure to write a letter to the TV executives congratulating them,” she says drolly, finally unmuting the T.V. She sighs as the new movie starts, one he's already seen this season. “Well, what happens now?” She asks on another sigh.

Killian should've known. His Swan is nothing if not curious, if not nosy. But she was there, as she is nearly every night in any given week, and he knows he really should've asked her before blurring out the word fiancée as he did.

But where else is he going to find a fake fiancée in such a time crunch?

“What plans do you have for Christmas?” he inquires, hoping for a subtle reaction.

That's not the case, of course. Turning toward him slowly, Killian watches as Emma's eyes go wide as saucers, her brows raise high, and her jaw drops.

“Killian, you can’t be serious.”

“Swan, darling, what else are you going to do?” he reasons. “You’ve got an invitation to dinner on Christmas Eve and the guarantee that you’ll wake up to presents and stereotypical family warmth on Christmas morning.”

“I-I mean,” she stutters, jaw still dangling dangerously close to her breastbone. “Weren’t we going to get drunk Christmas Eve and sleep off the hangover Christmas day?”

Recoiling a bit, Killian raises a brow and asks, “We were?”

Emma shrugs, somehow digging herself further into the couch. She takes to holding the decorative pillow from earlier, a sure sign of her nerves. “We didn’t decide anything, but I figure it was the sort of thing we would do.” Looking furtively between him and the T.V., Emma shrugs again. “I was gonna suggest it after dinner tonight.”

“Well, we can do that at Liam’s,” he offers, playfully nudging her with his elbow. “We’ll have some drinks with dinner, have a nice time, then steal whatever from the liquor cabinet and down it all in the guest room in our pajamas.”

She rolls her eyes. “That can’t be good form.”

He doesn’t deign her an answer - not because it’s technically not good form, but for other reasons - and begins poking her on the knee. “Come with me,” he requests of her quietly. “You can meet Liam and Belle. It’ll be great.”

She’s quiet for a moment, her eyes on the male character as he ascends to a throne, before looking him dead in the eye.

“Promise?” she asks softly, her mouth partially hidden behind the pillow.

Killian nods solemnly. “Promise.”

0000

It’s been dark all day, clouds heavy with snow, but somehow, as Killian and Emma sit in her car in his brother’s driveway, Christmas Eve somehow seems to get darker.

“It’s kind of cold,” Emma mumbles, playing with the ring on her left hand. It’s fake, of course, but real enough to pass for an engagement ring. Or at least that’s what they’ve settled on. Killian dug it up from his pirate Halloween costume, and he spent a pretty penny on getting something real enough to fool adults more than children.

Works well for short notice, he thought.

“Yeah, it is.” They sit there for a moment longer, both lost in their respective thoughts, before Killian tsks. Reaching over the center console, he stills her nervous fiddling by taking her hand in his own. “You ready?”

Inhaling sharply and deeply, Emma nods slowly. “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” she says accusatorily.

“I can’t believe you agreed to it,” he quips back with a smirk. Killian doesn’t need to see her to know that she’s rolling her eyes. He unlocks his door and squeeze her hand once, hopefully transferring some courage from his palm to hers. “It’s going to be great.”

Emma scoffs, unlocking her door as well. “You better hope they’ve got some top shelf stuff in their cabinet.”

Killian chuckles as he steps foot outside the car, letting go of Emma’s hand to grab the bottles of wine they brought as gifts. “I should hope the same. Alcohol’s the only way to warm up after this cold,” he says over the roof of the car.

The wind blows up a terribly bitter breeze just as they walk up Liam and Belle’s front steps, leaving Killian and Emma to huddle up to each other.

“It’s fucking freezing!” Emma shouts over the wind.

“Try the door!” he replies. “It should be open.”

The next gust of wind ushers them into the starkly warm house. Both shaking off the breeze and the snow, they hang up their coats and rid themselves of their boots. Killian can smell some sort of meat roasting from the over, the scents wafting down the hallway with the Christmas music gently playing on the stereo.

“Hello?” Killian calls, draping his scarf over his jacket. “Liam?”

Liam’s head pop out from around an archway that must lead to the kitchen, for he’s decked out in a festive Santa apron. His smile is goofily wide, though Killian’s sure that there’s a grin as equally as absurd on his face.

Bloody hell, I did miss him.

“Little brother!” Liam shouts, much to Killian’s chagrin. He comes around the corner and embraces Killian in one of the tightest and, in his opinion, most unnecessary hugs in the history of the universe. “My god, it’s been eons.”

Killian can’t help but belt out a laugh as he slaps his older brother on the back. “I saw you at your wedding,” he reminds Liam.

“Really?” Pulling back, the look on Liam’s face makes him seem a lot duller than Killian knows he is. But then he lights back up, in the present instead of the past now, as Belle comes into the room. “Then it has been too long, Killian.”

Moving around his brother, Killian takes his sister-in-law into his arms. “Belle,” he pauses to buss her on the cheek, “radiant as always.”

“Why, thank you,” she says, color rising on her cheeks. She blinks a few times before her eyes focus behind Killian, on to Emma. He’s nearly forgotten she’s there, she’s unusually quiet.

But Belle, ever the people person and general lovely lady that she is, immediately takes to her, stepping forward and offering her a friendly smile. “You must be Killian’s fiancée.”

“Yeah,” Emma chokes out, her voice decidedly soft and watery. “I’m Emma.” Awkwardly, Emma sticks her hand out. Instead, Belle goes in for the hug, Emma’s hand getting caught between their chests. Killian hears her quietly go, “Oof, a hug.”

“I’m sorry,” Belle says automatically, taking a step back subconsciously into Liam’s hold. “Do you not do hugs? I should’ve asked first. I’m sorry, I’m just excited that we’re going to be family.”

And that’s something that neither Killian nor, he’d bet to say, Emma had thought about. Sure, they can pretend that they’re going to get married, say that they incredibly happy and in love, but the idea of being family…

It’s not one of the angles they thought of, he can safely say that. And, from what he know of Emma’s past and the skeletons in her closet, he’s afraid the mere fathom of it might trigger her into quitting the whole charade.

But Belle, bless her, isn’t privy to Killian’s inner monologue, and moves on to the next thought. Addressing Emma, she says with a chuckle, “I don’t know if Killian’s the same way, but I know Liam is a handful more often than not.”

Liam pulls her closer into his chest. “Now, darling, I resent that sentiment,” he chides her lovingly.

Their little exchange, apparently, gives Emma enough time to reboot and get over whatever turmoil she might be experiencing internally. “Hugs are fine,” she tells Belle, her voice a little stronger than when introducing herself. “I was just surprised. It’s been…”  She licks her lips, and glances up at Killian for a tick. “Well, it’s been a while since someone greeted me that way.”

“To be honest, Emma, I’m not surprised,” Liam replies. Looking to his wife, he adds, “Did I tell you, Belle, when I called Killian, the only way I knew about Emma’s existence was because the front door slammed and she yelled at him?”

Killian’s arm goes around Emma’s shoulders, mimicking his brother because that’s what engaged couples do, right? “Frankly I deserved it.”

“He did,” Emma agrees, finally cracking a smile. And then, surprisingly Killian, she places a hand on his chest, looking up at him with a weird glimmer in her eyes, one he’s never really seen in her before. “But he’s still the best part about coming home, and he knows that and accepts that I am a very loud person.”

“I do.” Something about that look of hers keeps him from sarcastically remarking that she can be incredibly loud without even trying. It shakes him because, for some reason or another, her glance reminds him of the way his brother looks at his wife.

Shaking the thought from his brain, Killian turns back to Liam. “So dinner?” he asks. To Emma, he says, “I don’t know about you, love, but I am starved.”

“Seconded,” Emma agrees.

Liam and Belle usher them into the kitchen where the final timer goes off. Liam pulls a ham from the oven and Belle mixes them their first drinks of the evening. That easily leads into dinner, where Killian finds himself glancing at Emma, his excuse being that he wants to make sure she’s having a good time. By the way she laughs hysterically at Liam’s tales of their childhood and keeps whispering to Belle next to her, Killian believes that she is.

A couple times during the meal, he finds his hand wandering over to her knee, exerting slight pressure, silently asking her if she really is doing okay. She always responds with a complementary squeeze, and when her hand lingers there more often than not, Killian tries to focus on literally anything else occurring at that specific moment in time.

By the time the dishes are drying and the leftovers are packed away for lunch tomorrow, Emma’s happily tipsy and Killian’s well on his way to joining her. Liam tells them they’ll have to share the guest bed, but neither of them take issue with it. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve fallen asleep together in close quarters.

Killian manages, though, to keep up his end of the bargain. After bidding Liam and Belle a goodnight and merry Christmas, he nabs two bottles of rum from the liquor cabinet and sneaks them into the guest room, where he finds Emma laying on the bed, flipping through the T.V. channels. She throws the remote to the end of the mattress when her search lands on the Hallmark Channel.

“For someone who enjoys complaining about the subject matter, you’re always quick to find them,” he says over the click of the door closing.

“I get it,” she states as he hands over a bottle. She pops the top and takes a healthy swig.

“Get what, love?” he inquires.

“The bad movie thing,” she says with a roll of her eyes, as if that’s been the topic of discussion for the past two hours and not the last two seconds. Pointing toward the screen, she explains. “Escape. Even though he sent her back home and banished her from Aldovia or wherever, you know he's going to go find and her and they're going to be happy.” On a sigh, Emma settles her head into the pillow. “It's nice.”

It’s so outside of Emma’s realm to be as serious as she is right now. Killian smiles softly at her, joining her on the bed. “I'm glad you finally see that.”

Just as it’s seemed she’s gotten comfortable, Emma swiftly stands, digs through her overnight bag, and goes off into the bathroom with her pajamas. Killian watches the movie as she changes, trying to pick up on the plot points he’s missed and occasionally taking a drink of rum.

When Emma comes back in the room, her daytime clothes balled up in her arms, she announces, “I don't have a family.”

It’s not necessarily out of left field, what with all the talk of Liam and Belle’s wedding and their fake impending nuptials over the dinner table, but Killian’s still a tad surprised by her statement. He doesn’t say anything, though: just allows her to continue at her own pace.

“I was bounced from foster home to group house until I aged out,” she explains, setting her clothes atop her bag. “There were so many kids that none of the adults particularly cared about the holidays.” Coming back to bed, Emma curls up beneath the covers, her voice growing quiet. “And when I grew up, I took to ordering Chinese food and watching these bad movies and the old stop motion ones all night.” She scoots closer to him, her eyes never leaving the T.V. screen. “This is the first Christmas I won't spend alone.”

Killian’s always known her life to be a little harsher than she deserved, but never quite that bad. There’s a hint of that emotion from earlier, the one that made him feel things, linger in her eyes, and he can’t help himself: gently, he brushes some stray strands of hair from her face, his hand staying on her cheek. “Then we're going to make this the best Christmas ever, Swan.”

“It already is,” she sighs happily, looking up at him. “I'm here with you.”

He leans down and kisses her forehead before crawling under the covers himself. Emma’s head ends up on his chest halfway through the movie, the rum forgotten on the nightstands, and they’re both asleep before the prince even proposes.

0000

Killian wakes up shortly after sunrise, head pounding with a headache. He stumbles to the bathroom for aspirin and water and brings back enough for both of them. Popping a few too many drugs, Killian takes a large swig of water to wash them down, and settles back in bed, hoping to get a few more hours. If there’s one Christmas present he’s not going to take for granted, it’s the chance to have a lie in.

Especially when an innocent Emma flips over and snuggles into him, sleep warm. And though her sigh airs on the side of dreamy, Killian can’t say the same for her morning breath. He’s casually choking on tainted air when she rouses.

“What time?” she asks, still half asleep.

“Too early,” Killian says, dragging his hand down her back to try and lull her back into unconsciousness. “Go back to sleep, Swan.”

“But Christmas,” she grumbles.

“It’ll still be Christmas when you wake up,” he assures her. But her breath’s already evening out, and she’s fast asleep less than a minute later.

0000

When they both wake to the sounds of pans clanging in the kitchen a few hours later, Killian feels a lot better. His head isn't killing him anymore, his mouth no longer tastes like cotton, and he's still got a Swan in his hold.

For now.

“You're so fucking hot, get off me,” she grumbles, pushing him wearily, her eyes still closed.

“It's so kind of you to say so,” Killian quips back, holding her even tighter. “I find you to be quite attractive as well.”

Emma groans and shoves his face away. She rolls over and scoots to the very edge of her side of the bed. “You know what I fucking mean.”

Killian sidles in behind her, careful when he threads his arm across her hip and waist. “I do,” he murmurs behind her ear, “but it's Christmas, so your words of malice mean nothing.”

She says something else that her pillow exclusively hears, but then she's sliding out of bed and toward the bathroom.

“If it's Christmas, then we better get started,” she says before closing the door. “The sooner it's over with, the sooner I can be mean to you again.”

Chuckling, Killian shouts through the door, “I like you even when you're yelling at me!”

Emma pokes her head and shoulders out the bathroom door.

“I'm not yelling,” she says matter of factly. “I'm simply expressing my opinion in an angry and slightly elevated tone.”

Once taken care of, Killian and Emma shuffle into the living room to find Belle curled up in a corner of the couch, sipping from a mug.

“Merry Christmas, You two,” she greets them quietly.

“Merry Christmas, Belle,” Emma says in return. “Where's your Jones?”

Belle giggles and tilts her behind back to the kitchen. “He wanted to put some cinnamon rolls in the oven to bake while we opens presents,” she explains.

“Always thinking ahead,” Killian remarks as his brother walks into the room.

“Ah, the lovebirds have awoken.”

“I could say the same for you.”

They exchange gifts - nothing to big or mind blowing. Liam gives Killian his annual pair of socks. Emma and Belle, it seems, thought along the same wavelength, exchanging candles and lotions meant for a relaxing home-spa day. Nobody changes out of their pajamas - too busy eating leftovers and watching classic Christmas movies - until Killian regretfully reminds Emma that they have to drive back home tonight.

“Some of us have to work early tomorrow morning,” he tells her jokingly.

“It’s not my fault your field likes to start their day at 8am,” she gests back.

By the time they say their final goodbyes and merry Christmases to Liam and Belle, it’s dark again, though thankfully not snowing. And when Killian drops Emma’s overnight bag at her doorstep, he can’t quite believe they made it through the holiday.

“Thanks for playing into my fantasy,” he says, surprising himself by how shy he sounds. They’ve spent the better part of the last 48 hours together pretending to be head over heels in love with one another, and now is the part where he begins to be scandalized by the matter? How curious indeed.

“Thanks for giving me the part.” Searching beneath her feet for the answers to life’s greatest questions - or at least that’s what he assumes she’s doing, she staring so intently - Emma scuffs at the floor. Unlike his apartment, she’s got a welcome mat, a little dinky, but still as welcoming as the word written across it. She kicks at it before she inhales deeply. “This might be a bit of a surprise, but that’s probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had in my life.”

��So you said,” Killian says with a chuckle, sticking his hands into his coat pockets. Then he admits quietly, “Me too.”

Her eyes light up, that same emotion bright behind her fluttering eyelashes. “Really?”

Killian shrugs. “The company was above average this year.”

“Aw shucks.” She kicks at the mat again. “Hey, um...” And then she stops herself from continuing.

“Yeah?”

Her right hand is cradling her left as Emma looks at the costume ring on her finger. His gaze falls to it as well. It’s just a silly fake pirate ring, and yet seeing it on her finger, knowing that it belonged to him only a day ago, does something that he suspects looks a lot like the little glimmer that keeps showing up in her eyes.

“I know I should probably give you this back,” she says, “but, um...”

“Keep it,” he says without hesitation. “It's part of your Christmas present.”

Emma shakes her head, already starting to pull the ring off her finger. “You've already given me so much and I just…”

“You've been perfect,” Killian interrupts her. He takes her hand in his and holds it tightly, effectively stopping her from removing the ring. And then, surprising himself, Killian adds, “Since the day you barged into my life and demanded to watch 12 Monkeys.” His tongue runs along his teeth, contemplating the idea formulating in his mind. “But...”

“But?” she repeats.

“If you feel so inclined to thank me...” His sentence drifts off, leading him to raise his finger and tap it to his lips.

Rolling her eyes so hard Killian fears they might get stuck that way, Emma says, “Oh my god, are you serious?”

Killian shrugs again, bringing his hand back into his pocket. “I said if you were inclined.”

“Please, you couldn't handle it,” she says quickly.

“Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it,” he quips back easily.

And before he knows it, Emma’s pressed against him, chest to chest, her hands pulling harshly on the lapels of his jacket. He’s jettisoned forward, his lips to hers, in what’s probably the least expected kiss in his life and possibly the lives of everyone else in their apartment building.

It’s also probably the single best thing to ever happen to him, romantically-inclined or otherwise.

Emma doesn’t step away once she’s done with him, merely comes down from her tiptoes with a heavy breath. “Only one way to find out, right?” Her voice sounds wrecked, her tongue coming out to lick what’s left of him on her lips. Then she lets him go and takes a step back. “Why don't you drop your stuff off and we can see how much we can actually handle together?” she suggests.

Raising a brow, Killian smirks. “Challenge accepted.” He grabs his bag from where it’s fallen to the floor and can’t help himself when he leans over and presses his lips to hers swiftly once more. “I’ll be over in a few minutes.”

He leaves her unlocking her front door to enter his own apartment, throwing his bag on the couch and beelining it toward his room. There’s dirty laundry to do and he should probably just go to bed because he does have to go to work in the morning, but the opportunity presented to him is just too good an offer to pass up and he can’t be sure that it’ll still be there come morning.

I hope it is, Killian thinks as he pulls on his sweatpants.

But then there’s banging on the other side of his bedroom wall, insistent and forceful and she’s never done that before. Something must be wrong. Throwing on another shirt and forgoing shoes altogether, Killian rushes over to her apartment, knocking equally as hard on her front door.

Emma’s smiling when she flings the door open.

“What's wrong?” he asks, confused by the conflicting information he’s receiving.

“Killian, the Hallmark movie with the dogs!” she shouts at him.

Shaking his head, Killian squints. “Yes, what about it?”

She points toward her living room. “It's on!” Taking his hand, Emma drags him into her apartment, her pleading eyes doing a number on his stomach. “Can we watch it and or have it on in the background?”

He sighs as the screen comes into view. It’s the beginning of the movie, so they can watch it in its entirety and laugh about it together. “I suppose we can wait,” he relents, allowing Emma to sit him down on the couch. He, in turn, wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her legs over his lap. “But I'm not taking my eyes or hands off you for a moment.”

“Good,” she says with a smirk of her own. “I'd despair if you did.”

She tucks her head in the space between his neck and shoulder and something settles, warm and happy, in Killian’s chest.

If Killian had to think of one word to encompass this Christmas, he'd have to settle on unexpected. From his brother’s phone call to his and Emma's fake engagement, the last thing he thought this holiday would end with was him and Emma cozied up on his couch, curled around each other while watching a cheesy Christmas movie.

(And if they don't make it to the triumphant end in order to create their own, then sue him. Sometimes Hallmark movies have to write themselves.)

[infiinitepossibilities-a-blog]

I’ll Be Home For Christmas

A Holiday Ficlet For @samenkomen

It was 0000 hours when Una walked into his quarters like he had asked her to some scant hours ago. And while she had a paad in her hands and looked prepared to tackle any emergency, Chris sat on the couch in his room, smiling amidst the carefully hung white Christmas lights, which a present in his lap and two glasses sitting on the table along with a bottle of sparkling wine from Andor.

“Merry Christmas.”

“Where I’m from we don’t--”

“I know,” he interrupted. Then he patted the spot next to him on the couch. “But I do and it means something to me.”

Hesitantly she took the spot he offered, almost careful to keep from bumping into him as they occupied the same small space. Resting a hand on the present in his lap, he took a deep breath.

“I used to love Christmas with my mom. Didn’t matter where we were when the day came around. Just that we were together. Then with Charlie… Well, he made a point to try and be around on even comm.” Chris bit the corner of his lip and smiled. “One year we decorated the horses with wreaths around their necks. But what mattered wass spending it with my family.”

“Have you considered calling your father, sir?”

“No. No. I don’t… Look, I love Hobelia and--”

He paused. The conversation wasn’t going the way he wanted it to and he was sure she knew that as well from the way she kept watching him expectantly. Or perhaps, he realized as he caught sight of her hands as they toyed with her sweater, she was as much at a lost as he was.

“Look, the Enterprise is my family too now and I want you to… know that I appreciate you. And the rest of the crew. I mean, I got Boyce a bottle of Romulan ale that’s older than him but--”

A hand came to rest over his, making him aware of the way he was toying with the ribbon he had wrapped around the box himself.

“I understand, sir. This is for me, I assume?”

Chris startled slightly, but handed over the present eagerly.

“Yeah. I didn’t know what to get you so I just-- Well, you’ll see.”

Christmas clearly wasn’t her forte. She opened the present with a sort of carefullness that Chris would expect from a Vulcan. By time she had finished, the paper lay neatly in her lap without even the slightest rip and on top of it was the old copy of Catch-22 that had, until recently been on his bookcase.

“It’s a book. With paper.”

“It’s one of my favorites. The paper edition was a gift from Charlie when I graduated. Lord only knows how he got that but uh... I thought you might enjoy it too. Or, I hoped you might. If you don’t I can--”

“Thank you, Captain Pike,” she said, holding the book closer to her as though to keep him from taking it back. “I’ll inform you of my opinion when I finish it.”

“Great. Give me some notice and we can talk about it over dinner.”

For a moment, he thought he might have crossed the line somehow. After all, her face went slack and a hint of color started to rise to those cheeks. But before he could figure it out, she was schooling her features into that typical calm she wore so well.

“I would enjoy that.”

“Good.” Chris rose from his seat and poured them each a glass of wine. Handing hers over, he sat back down and held up his glass in a toast. “Merry Christmas, Number One.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Captain,” she said, knocking her glass against his.

[kkukkung]

v lorge ask compilation below

some of these asks date back like??? a few months??? dsdjkfhk... they’re ordered from newest to oldest i’m so sorry... messy messy

Ur blog is the plush jooheon is going like 😯😷😨😷😷 😵😫😱 to

it... is......... honestly i think jooheon is the member i’d get along w the least irl?? i can’t explain it but?? mb bc he’s a libra? also the fact that hyungwon received that huge shrimp plush n held it like a foetus is so :’’0000

annie tumblr is gonna censor ur whole blog cause ur gay

Good.

so... shart is ur New fav word now huh, guess that ges into my dictionary now...

shart made a comeback from 2016 me’s vocab and i don’t even know how it happened? :(

Sjdnkwldwnnw u ruined that punch scene in shine forever,, I can't watch it without thinking about your "my meat, me" gif 

the best gif i ever made??? gkjkjf sorry i rly am the most irrelevant person on this damn website? also that rly was my first thought when i watched the mv.... or maybe second thought after thinking “god i wish shownu would punch me like that”

changkyun is really so happy recently, he smiles so much and his eyes crinkle, its the cutest thing i have ever seen like ??!?! i want to protect him, just roll him up in a blanket and show him memes on my phone

he is!!!!! his happiness is my own happiness?? and when he smiles ur right he goes like >__< he’s rly the cutest boy alive? and this ask is so relatable esp the last part... if ck were my friend irl i’d just text him memes all day???

pls deactivate

relatable

I'm so soft rn. How can I FUCKING tell them how much I love them. Like I want to grab wonho's sweet squishy face and give his forehead a big SMOOCH. These boys deserve so much and I want to convey that to them in person but I CAN'T. And if I had the chance I'd probably ugly crying too hard to say anything.

this ask is so cute??? and i understand the dilemma like... idols are ppl who give & receive so much love every day expressed in 28347982 different ways so it’s hard knowing how to rly... Let Them Know just how happy they make u thru their existence alone? crying with u anon

yikes wait what happened w jinyoung?? i thought he was one of the few unproblematic ones...

[diff anon] jinyoung was on a tv show where he was playing a past love interest or something and he kisses the actress who's only 14..

i.... won’t comment on this bc i don’t want to stir up old drama but :/ aah i see... thank u for letting me know!

i started talking like you and another person who has similar typing patterns to you and now all my friends hate me bc of slorp and spicy

sdfjkghksdfkjfgkjds im rly sorry this happened to u... at first my friends were resistant but after a while they started picking it up as well thru exposure so... infect them jksfjjkgf... also add shart to the menu i guess? :/

Kihyun's kink is making people flustered. On the gifseft he's like "There's so many things I can do with my mouth, let me show you honey." He will grab your neck firmly yet delicately while he invades your personal space. Keeping eye contact is troublesome, this new proximity tastes as dangerous as the underlying promise of what will come next. But Hyungwon never figured it out since he backed out, breaking the siren's spell.

(response to this gifset i think? jshdfkjff) BLEASE... im writing a hyungki fic right now as we speak ✍️📝 anyway i like this characterisation of dom!kihyun bc irl he would be very dominant ??? and in fics he’s always the bottom just bc he’s #smol 🙄 but i mean he’s ?? so aware of his own sex appeal sometimes so he’d be like a switch/top/power bottom imo

you're right, you aren't into vore. More like in slorping and smorching knees/feet, and other nsfw things.

tbh im only fake horny :/ im a romantic deep down.. want to watch the sunset with lmh....... accidentally drop my bag of skittles on the dirt and he eats them up like a vacuum cleaner jksfdhkjgfkjfdhjgfjhjks

Annie, i feel like you'll understand me. Whenever I see Minhyuk, i feel a mixture of extreme lust, great anger and a desire to have my head bashed in because he's real and nothing else matters anymore. It's really.... not what i wanted in life 

another #relatable ask... i want to take minhyuk out on a candlelit dinner date but like.... at kfc and we’ll both be touching each other’s cheeks with our greasy hands like animals... like raccoons scavenging for trash in a dumpster

'kihyun stans are foot fetishists'' UHM!!! this is tru i would slorp kihyuns whole foot in one go

i don’t rmbr writing this but skjdfhfgsdkjgjk it... it really is true huh...

hi annie, i just wanted to ask you what your take on wonho's personality is? ive read your tags before and how you say he is very romantic in how he presents things, and i thought that was interesting!

aaa, i think i’ll write a proper post on this later bc it’s also something that interests me a lot... until then i’ll just say that i think he’s indeed very romantic and loves pleasing people... his driving force is rly Love u know... love for people (family, members, fans), for his job, for music, etc... he’s very soft and imaginative and sometimes that comes across as a kind of childish innocence?? more on this later

i wanna kno more abt the customer whos coming in more lately,, i lov regulars that come in at my job - it's such an interesting half relationship

hgfjjjsk this ask is from a month ago n i think i was talking abt that customer who asked me if i wanted to die but in a casual way?? jsfdkh i work at a tobacco store so this guy asked me if i smoked n i was like “uhm no i don’t” so he went “what? are you afraid to die?” and i stood there like... kind of dumbfounded for a sec jksfhg but he’s a nice guy n very cool... nvr seen his eyes b4 bc he always has rly dark shades on n he buys the cheapest cigarettes n leaves. but most regulars i get are like chinese international students spending their parents’ money on cigs and some sweet old men who always want the same smokes... there’s this one old man who always wears matching vintage suits n pairs it w a fancy hat n once he complimented my outfit and i was thrilled?? also some creeps come n chat me up while im working sometimes which is a bit :/// but mostly i like my job and it’s interesting interacting w regulars! thank u for this ask n im sry if this was like super boring lmao

idc what it says about me but Minhyuk rushing to eat chicken bones off the fucking floor brought him from 'would play Mario Kart and share nachos with' to 'would play Mario Kart and share bodily fluids with' levels

i want to Die.................... when he tried to eat those half-eaten chicken bones off the ground....... that was the moment that solidified his image as a Dirty Dirt Man in my head like he’s a Real Gremlin... i said it for fun b4 but it’s... a real thing. he’s actually Disgusting skjdfhjdkf... also anon u sound like a gremlin too??? join our big gremlin family???

wtf is "That" ????? and why is it related to kihyuck ?? - knowing ur tags it should be something gross, but u said it in such an onimous way; annie, i am scared.

i genuinely don’t rmbr what this was abt djgjs i write a lot of tags that don’t make sense even to me like a few weeks later?? sjdfjhkjsk i’m sorry... gotta start answering these in time so they actually have any kind of relevance... 

"That kink where you just want to be crushed....just like pulverized. Asking for a friend" Bless this tag

again.. don’t rmbr writing this tag and don’t rmbr the post i wrote it for but um, yeah, sounds like smth i said jkfdgsjfdjk im so sorry...

i just had a dream where minhyuk showed up, called me sexy and then left???

fun fact whenever ppl tell me abt their dreams here it’s always to do with minhyuk doing something weird??? also God I Wish That Were Me...

why do u say jooheon is def experienced tho? he legit said he never had a girlfriend in his life and it's clear seeing him interact with women, he has no idea what to do? unless you mean gay experiences, that's probably very true

THE LAST LINE OF THIS ASK JKDHKJD.... um i think joobs is experienced bc i actually think he’s sorta smooth? he’s pretty flirtatious w female hosts on the shows mx appears on like... w jimin on asc and w seulgi on idol battle likes... i don’t mean experience as in a lot of idk.. sexual experiences (if anything he’d b the type to be v devoted to someone if he was dating them i think) but i feel like he does know how to present himself in a certain... attractive light especially in front of cute girls? idk if i’m saying this right... 

ur minhyuk tags are so fnny and hella relatable im dying n 😂😭😂

my minhyuk tags: slorp... asterisk asterisk asterisk x10... nut... gremlin dirt man... nut nut... nutting... dksjfgkj but thank u?

but you ARE funny lol I laughed so hard at that bird/Shownu reference

gfjkgjkjk u can tell how old these asks are from the things they’re referring to... but nevertheless thank u sm im sry im a mess... at least im a funny mess to a select few ppl... thank u for enjoying my messy blob... i lov u

no exit ep 5 was a mess but wonho was lookin reeeal cute w those glasses tbh

???? what the fuck, where they serious about that fuckin Mathew the tiger??? If yes, then again, wtf??

jdsfjksk i still can’t believe Those Episodes of no exit rly happened...

i love your tags so much especially the ones where you imply that minhyuk's actually an alien "# he rly doesn't know what to do w his arms he hasn't possessed a human body in so long" lol

HE RLY IS AN ALIEN... like he’s obviously attractive n was popular in school n smart n funny n cute but sometimes he does the most unexplainable things n it makes me rly wonder if he’s human??? he’s so fucking weird u kno i love my alien gremlin dirt man... take me for a ride in ur ufo...

You @ wonho: :( sweet baby u deserve everything good You @ minhyuk: literally slorp my p**** you fucking snake

SHUT UP...

i started using slorp too help

this ask was sent 3 months ago... i can’t believe i’ve been saying slorp for three months...

um..... i luv u???smorch

smorch u back??? big sloppy smorch that leaves u disgusted???

Hey Annie, would you mind a short description of the Monsta X No Exit Chanel+ video?

i’m sry abt how late this is jsfdjkg but if anyone’s still interested... yeah the no exit video where they explained the hypnotism was p much just bts of jooheon and shownu getting hypnotised... and it kind of legitimised it ig bc joobs said he was concentrating super super super hard (and hypnotism only works when ur focusing that much??) n so did shownu... my ch+ actually expired recently so this is just from what i rmbr hfdjsdjkh if anyone else can contribute pls do! otherwise i will get a renewal soon and after that i could do a better summary if you’re still interested! sorry!!

Um...why are jooheons vocals slept on...what the fcuk he's so??? Nice to listen to??

tbh why is jooheon such a golden boy... literally good at everything... can sing dance (one of the best dancers in mx??) and rap.... compose... write lyrics... play 328974 diff instruments... cute n sexy at the same time.... what the fuck

I'm trying to figure out what your censored tags are but apparently my vocabulary of nasties is pretty limited

im glad??? pls don’t read the next part of this ask compilation ksfhkgsd

!!!nsfw asks... spare urself please...!!!

uhhhhhh for the nastea ask comp... kihyuns p*thy eating lips??? true, but whats the most to least best at eating out ranking order?

1. kihyun/wonho

2. shownu (would try v hard??? earnest man??)

3. hyungwon (idk i think he’s gotta be Good somehow i mean look at his lips??)

4. jooheon

5. changkyun

6. minhyuk (can’t find clitoris :/)

I would like to hear more about kihyun's p**** e**ing lips tbh 👀... please elaborate

idk what to say but i feel like the way he moves his lips sometimes is ??? erotic jskfdhkgjfdj and same w wonho... also the lisp has some relevance 2 ***** eating idk there’s a tie there somewhere...

I FEEL DIRTY WATCHING KIHYUNS BODY ROLLS ON WEEKLY IDOL I WOULD **** his **** at fucking lightning speed

rmbr when we thought sexy!kihyun Peaked during beautiful era w the return of the black hair but now he’s running around w a blindfold n showing off his new shredded body at any given moment.. yeah

(in reference to minhyuk probly not knowing where the clit is) minhyuk: *reaches into the back of your throat and flicks your uvula* "hows that feel babe? ;)"

reading this took years off my life i hate u

I disagree.Minhyuk is probably the most kinky out of monsta x.He just doesn't show it like every other expert in the field 👀👀

mmm i think hyungwon could be a Freak? jskdhfkg but ur right minhyuk is definitely someone who’s up for like... experimental stuff :/

[99istifada]

DIY Cheap Arduino CNC Machine - Machine is Complete AND Accurate!

hi folks welcome to another episode of NYC CNC today we're going to continue on with the Arduino CNC project we're gonna work on this homemade DIY Arduino CNC driven by the gargoyle shield an awesome project and the focus on this one is really inexpensive parts the linear bearings the ground linear rails incredibly inexpensive timing belts we're gonna walk through all that how to interface it with the garble get some code up and running and then hopefully at the end of this we'll be able to export g-code and use I think we'll try to fit a pen inside of that thing and do a drawing let's dive right in if you haven't seen the first video yet here's a screen shot and there's a link you click right on the video screen to pull up the first video that's where we walk through the setup of the garble shield me arduino and some of the very basic settings today what we're gonna do though is mix that in with the hardware actual measurements and get this thing really running let's take a quick look at the SolidWorks CAD model and I want to thank Craig Kelly he's a longtime viewer who was really instrumental in getting this CAD model put together and did a lot of work on it so Craig a big thanks for your help on this and what I love about Craig's work is that it's not always a great to work with but he understands simplicity and that was the goal here let's make this thing as simple and cheap but for the sake of being cheap but for the for the sake of figuring out what can we do with a low cost machine and one that's hopefully easy for you folks to make because that's what I really want I want everyone watching this video to be able to do this if you need one that's more rigid you can do that and we're gonna do that actually pretty soon on a project involving proper linear rails but you're talking about hundreds of dollars just for some of the linear motion parts alone so as you can see here the idea for me is to be able to dispense parts into a hopper as this tube moves around we don't need to worry about the trays below right now you can see we've just got four pieces of angle bracket Craighead machined them down but if you take a look or in the in the SolidWorks have modeled them down if you take a look on the actual thing I left I let them all is three inch aluminum angle quarter inch thick and that be fine you've got to get some holes drilled to hold your bearings I actually have just I thought I was gonna oversized drilled on my hair and then ream them but right now they're just press fit in there so again we're just trying to get it done quickly folks and then as you can see in the cat bottle there's not a split line shown but the idea is that a screw would hold the timing belt together because the best way to purchase timing belt material is the large spool and then you cut it so obviously you either need to splice it into one solid belt again or what's much easier is to leave it as a open-ended belt I did the same and you can see right here there's a steel bracket and inside of that bracket are the two ends of the belts I did the same thing on the x-axis I'll flip the camera around here so you can see the belt is secured by the piece from the screw right there and then this screw is threaded through the aluminum angle and it acts as a makeshift tensioner just to keep the right amount of tension on the belt so like I said I put it all together and I'm really happy with the results you can see you've got great motion on both directions you're gonna find that the X is way longer than it should be I didn't want to cut the bars down yet I will later because this machine only needs to be covering X distance of about 00 inches but for now I figured let's have some fun and it's it's great for those of you who don't know the way these work is these are linear bearing blocks and they actually have recirculating balls inside this black ring here and they allow to the a very low friction and accurate way for these to slide over these linear bearings I'm pretty happy with the Y the X as you'll see has some some play in it like that and that's totally unacceptable for any sort of 0d printing or cutting application this will be fine the way to prove and prove that easily would be to make a longer y axis support piece or the piece that travels along the X rather and then to use two of these on each one but I'm also not to worry about it because let's talk about cost folks I'm finding these bearing blocks for well * under five dollars the steppers for under ten dollars the rail is like six or seven bucks tiny belt is super cheap there are links to all this stuff in the video description right below so if you want to purchase this or just explore more please by all means click on those links to see sort of how I put this together but folks we're talking cheap all the linear motion parts including the steppers are like under seventy bucks the aluminum for me is really cheap and then you've just got to add your garble shield which is 00 bucks in an Arduino and I think that's about it we are planning to offer the aluminum brackets for sale on the Sanders Machine Works website just because we know there are some folks that don't have the ability to easily machine the stuff and it's easy for us so if you're interested in that you can check out by the way we have a brand new website but again the point here was how much fun can we have with a pretty darn inexpensive CNC setup if you will and then the other question is is it accurate well let's take a look so accuracy let's test it for those of you who aren't machinists we've got some basic machinist tools here that also fun fact are not expensive I'm using some two four six blocks these are a little bit less common they were actually something that I featured in my 0000 ten machinists Christmas gift ideas video and they were a big hit I had a number of folks who are like these are awesome it's a great price anyways on them is a very inexpensive magnetic indicator holder and then it's this thing which is called a dial indicator and it has a ram on it or shaft and as you push that shaft back it measures distance and each tick is one thousandth of an inch for those of you who aren't familiar with that a standard sheet of printer paper is about four thousand so it takes four ticks to measure the thickness of one piece of paper so in other words these things are pretty darn precise you can see that move right here so let's do this I've got it set up here with the plunger against this the one of the linear bearings on it's going to travel with our X motion and I've got this thing pre-loaded now the first thing we're going to do not measure accuracy but rather repeatability in other words I don't care how far it goes I care does it come back to the same point so we've got it set up here I'll just twist this so we're right on zero now let's type in a relatively arbitrary distance G 0 0 X negative 0.0 hit enter okay moves to some distance now we'll go back and type G 0 0 X 0 and the million-dollar question is how close to zero do we get mm that's pretty darn good I will take that any day remember folks we're using very inexpensive parts they're not rigid there's lots of types of looseness even wiggling the even wiggling the aluminum right there gives you play of quite a few thousand and again I'm okay with all that I still think this is just amazing now let's take it one step further got the needle lined up on 0 I'm going to click send this program goes further and it's pausing at the end of each stroke just so you can sort of see well go I think 0 times so maybe that's three and you can see it seems to be repeating within about well that was right on 0 0+0 thow plus 0000 a full thought maybe half a saw it back and forth about an inch seven times and you're holding tolerance again I'm not trying to say that this is a you know revolutionary CNC machine here I'm just trying to say with this inexpensive components in a relatively relatively flimsy construction we could do some really cool stuff so let's keep running with this and the introduction of the video I ran a bit intro decode let's take a quick look at that show you just how easy it is G 0 0 just means we're moving at the standard rate versus G 0 0 which is a rapid so we're just saying go G 0 0 go to Y 0 X negative 0 point 0 at a feed rate of 000 we'll get into what that means later then go back to y 0 X 0 and there's no reason for a space here other than my preference to see a break then go just over to the ex exactly here let's let's think to this so this should be the X moving at the same time and that should be as well now we're just going to go over the X then once we get to the x position of negative 0.0 we'll go up to in the Y and then it'll go over in the X and then we'll go back in the Y so this should draw a box versus this up here which is a diagonal then we go to a fixed position here of 0x of 0y if negative or seems to be X negative for y0 then we increment over and point to X's as you can see here four point two four point four or four point six and in between each one we have a pause g0 of pause 0.0 0.0 seconds so let's take a look at that now that you've seen the code and so we'll just go to browse sorter open and we'll run that code and you can see again we should have a diagonal first then it should draw a box and then from the home position it'll come somewhere here in the middle and index over a few times there's our box and then here's the indexing over pretty cool right folks so we know g-code works now we need to figure out how to make use of it so now we do need to get into some some math and it's not in any way hard but well there's just no choice about it so in the GUI and by the way folks I really appreciate a lot of folks recommended there are different and even better user interfaces for garble out there I need to check those out so let's talk about the map we need G code that makes sense in this in terms of how far the distance is to move so let's take a look at something we print dollar sign dollar sign enter we get the parameters that garble came with the most important ones are the first two and what that is is the distance per step you remember from the first video we had this little scratch excel file where we did some basic math and we sort we said that we knew it's 000 steps per revolution of the stepper and so if there's right now it's the garble set at 000 steps is 0 millimeter so to make the steppers go one revolution it would need to go G 0 0 X negative point-eight and that sure enough proved that the steppers went one full revolution which is great well now we've got a different factor we've got the factor that we're not driving directly from the stepper the stepper is driving a timing pulley the timing poise right here measure 0/0 of an inch on our dial calipers so math is pretty straightforward we just simply do pi times the diameter times the number of revolutions so 000 times one revolution times pi means one revolution of our stepper motor should move this one point one seven eight inches great let's see if that's true we've got the dial indicator back set up here got it on zero preloaded will go into garble and we'll just type 0 0 X negative point-eight enter and it goes past it goes to 0.00 so about 00,000 pass it here's the thing I'm actually not worried about that right now just to prove if we go back to 0 should be should be pretty accurate to 0 0 X 0 again will run right look at that folks right on 0 the reason it's going a little bit too far is that we're actually a little bit wider than 0/0 on our pulleys ok so we thought 000 revolute 000 steps which is we know is one revolution for sure would go one point one seven eight that's what I've got right here ends up that it actually went if we look back at the dial indicator about one point two five six so we'll put that in here so what that means in millimeters is thirty one point nine and so we want to know okay well if 000 steps is 00.0 then that means one millimeter is six point two six nine steps so when we go back to the garble setup file and we see this first line it's asking us how far should I turn a stepper to go one millimeter so we need to change that from 000 down to six point two six nine so we'll do that by just typing dollar sign zero equals it's here six point two six nine six point two six nine enter we get an okay we'll check our parameters by open them up again and boom there we go now if you're wondering wait a min here why do we go from 000 all the way down to six the answer is simple we're doing effectively a direct drive out put from the stepper to a timing pulley normally you'd be using a lead screw and a lead screw has a much finer pitch so you have to turn the motor a lot further to get the same motion but for us that was the same thing will hold true for the y-axis so we will do dollar sign one equals six point two six nine just quickly check that perfect but now we've got a problem if we say G 0 G 0 0 X negative point negative 0 millimeter and hit enter look it's got this nasty jerky motion to it it'll go a little further so you can see G 0 0 X negative 00 so we got to update a couple more settings real quick I went ahead and was playing around with this earlier so let's just look through what I came up with your default so we want to change we've already changed 0 & 0 obviously we want to go ahead and change 0 0 0 & 0 0 is one of the most important ones so we'll do 0 as 000 that's up from 000 and I think that was the big difference so dollar sign 0 equals 000 now we'll try G 0 0 X 0 my life 0 & 0 are big so 0 because 0000 dollar sign 0 equals 0000 okay now we need to type in the feed rate for the first time to force it to update and we want to go at 0000 F mm so G 0 0 X negative 00 F 0000 though look at that and then we'll go back to 0 I think you can now just type an x 0 no more need for the feed because it carries the feed forward and look at that were 0 mm shy we'll repeat that again still less than 0000 saw awesome now we're getting some water okay now our most important test yet in theory then if we go X negative 00 that's 00 millimeters it should go point 0 0 0 that's the inch equivalent which I have to use because my dial indicator is in inches so let's hop over here G 0 0 X negative 00 boom and let's take a look we are at 0 0 0 holy smokes volts for 0000 off nothing wrong with that that's sweet ok let's see if this thing we built worth anything I have got in SolidWorks a CAD model of my company's logo saunders machine works and for those of you that are watching this video but it may be new to my channel a lot of what I do is machining and CNC work so in fact we just started a series called choose your own CNC adventured where we had over 000 folks send in metal and plastic type of parts that they want to understand how they would be machined or manufactured so if you're interested in learning more about the process of machine chod would welcome you to either subscriber to check out some of those videos but what we're gonna do is we're gonna take this cad model and we're going to export it via this little button right here to sprutcam sprutcam is what creates the g code for the manufacturing process so again CAD is what you use to sort of build the house if you the architectural style cam is what you then do to say okay I need to cut here and drill here and nail here if you will so what we can do is we're gonna do what's called a 0d contouring operation which is going to just follow along 0d contours or curves or lines as you might think if for those of you had followed my solid or my spirit can videos you know I like to be sneaky and when how we select these lines and rather than mouse over each one and hold down control we can just turn off the surfaces view it from the front click alt or excuse me click and drag that now hold down alt and drag like so and now you've selected just the ones you wanted somehow we missed one hold down shift and you can finish that those few up and now you've got the geometry we need by just selecting curves I already did this in the operation right here look at some of the parameters tool won't matter because we have no z-axis or even a spindle here we want to run at 0000 millimeters per minute and again this doesn't matter only thing I did was I smooth out the arcs just so we didn't have as too much jerkiness so what this does is when you post-process it that's a process that involves sending creating g-code that's bespoke for certain types of machines that need different parameters to start and stop and so forth the generic code will work pretty much just fine so I'll click run and we get this g code right here now I need to delete this stuff in the beginning because garble it's just comments garble doesn't know what to do about that and then I needed to delete the this is a tool height position that's against custom to my machine not a big deal just I think there's one at the end I need to clean up and now this is a Cartesian basically Cartesian coordinate system that's called g-code that should let us use the garble to engrave or mark this logo so in Universal g-code sender we will browse we will open that file and then here's what's cool click visualize boom look at that that's pretty cool now hopping back to the machine itself what I did is I just cribbed up a piece of aluminum with a sheet of paper on top of it that gets me pretty close to the right height we'll see if give cut me some slack folks if this isn't 000% perfect because the point of this machine isn't to have a Z like this pen or an engraver we're gonna do one on that though here in a few weeks I'm so I'm hoping that this will come out okay but the idea is to use this sharpie to trace this logo on a piece of paper again folks we're talking about such an easy thing to build so inexpensive I think this is cool I've talked about at my channel before we live in a great era to have these tools at our disposal to be able to do this stuff I think is awesome so let's get this thing set up here so I'm gonna take the pin cap off what we're gonna see is it's going to be tracing though some lines around as it finds goes to a certain position so the logo isn't going to look perfect because we don't have a zero track again we could build one just not the point of this specific machine for me so let's see if this'll work here just come in from this side looks like my pens a little low pull up there we go okay so again bear with me folks because we've got some smudging I think I'm gonna have to just sort of put a little bit of tension on this so it doesn't move now let's see here I've got the file ready we're in the top-left corner which is where I want to start so I'm going to click send and then we can actually use the visualize box to watch along so without further ado send visualize here we go holy cow there we get a little bit of light pen it's okay here's the W oh this is actually working much better than I thought I thought the pen would be there I thought there would be more vibration or variants they were getting a little bit of a light line this is grateful holy cow this is a little jerky I got to work on that but that's it look at that folks in a few seconds it's like our little pimp water this has really been one of my favorite Wednesday widgets folks I was a kid I went to a museum in Columbus called kosai Sam's first Center of Science and Industry and they had a machine there was almost like a cuca type robotic arm and you could I think can't remember whether you could ask you to draw your neighbor it would just draw a pre-programmed name it was beautiful I mean a harmonic drive speed precision a lot more than this thing but nevertheless that made me as a kid know I want to build robots like that I want to be able to do that and in some respects I never got there because it's not what I do but look what we just did folks and you can do this too it's so easy it's but so inexpensive and it's awesome so I'm gonna keep running with this project as the hopper design we're also gonna be building one again with linear bearings that it's going to be much more rigid for actual cutting applications so stay tuned for that I want to thank tormach they're the sponsor in these videos they helped put these content out they helped allow me to dedicate the time to these videos they actually using the tormach vise is here to hold up the setup for just to make it rigid and easy for the videography so thanks to tormach if you guys are interested in this stuff please comment subscribe thumbs up share it with your friends it means a lot I remind that 00,000 subscribers which I'm is incredible to me I'd like to get to a hundred which seems insurmountable right now but I'm gonna try to keep putting out good content on Arduino and see and see and manufacturing and prototyping and we'll take it from there so with that folks take care stay well I'll see you soon [Music]

DIY Cheap Arduino CNC Machine - Machine is Complete AND Accurate! nyc cnc via www.99istifada.com

[astralsecrets]

Dream - Baby School Boy & Scary Volt & The Dodgy Phone & The Sweetest Burger & School Orchestra

Date of Dream: WED 19 DEC - 2018 Dream No. 510 - Separated Sections Dream 510 A - Baby School Boy I don’t remember much about this dream. From where I do remember, it was a distorted version of CP (who is deceased in real life). The only thing that was an accurate size was his but the rest of him was tiny, like the size of a newborn baby. His mum was also there, standing on the sidelines (she is a teacher at my primary school in real life) but I forgot what she was doing. CP was trying to communicate with me but I couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. I ended up picking him up and carrying him around like he was an actual baby. That’s all I can remember about this dream. Dream 510 B - Scary Volt (Lucid Dream 31) I don’t remember how the dream started. From where I do remember, I was in a completely unknown area. I ended up coming across JSc and her friend BBe. I didn’t really do much with BBe but when it came to JSc, although she was quite cold in this dream, I felt a sort of dream guide energy coming off her and I whispered to myself how I seemed to feel safe around her. Both her and BBe had just randomly set themselves up to lie down on the ground. I decided to go over and lay next to JSc. I made another comment but I forgot what it was exactly. I stated at the end of it though, “I declare this a lucid dream!”. I then asked everyone under the sun, including both JSc and BBe, if they knew where 18-Volt. The dream was rushing through this metal tunnel and at the end of it was supposedly 18-Volt… But the figure looked nothing like him. It was a creepy white man with red glowing eyes and this forced me awake. Dream 510 C - The Dodgy Phone I don’t remember how the dream started. From where I do remember, my family and I were seemingly coming back from Geelong but it was night time. The way we came back made it so we would go through Glen Waverley but I asked my parents why we didn’t come back the way we normally would; I don’t remember their response. We ended up in the area around Brandon Park shopping centre but I was now by myself. Especially because it was dark, the streets around me felt very unsafe, so I felt like I needed a dream guide. This time I was hesitant to call for 18-Volt as I had actively remembered how the dream screwed me over for the past two times in a row. I was thankful thought that this time, Dreamy WB appeared. She was wearing some skin toned jacket with a yellow and black chequered vest on top and on the bottom were plain greyish-black jeans and white sneakers. Her hair was in the style of long, skinny braids. After a short while of talking to her, I realised that I was cold and so she gave me her vest. She didn’t look happy about it though as the jacket she was wearing underneath was very thin that it could almost make for a shirt instead. As we got further away from the shopping centre and more into the suburban streets, I stated to her that I felt unsafe in the area. Although she had a bit more a cold, stern energy in this dream, she offered me her hand in which we ultimately ended up linking arms. She mentioned to me about getting my phone out and trying to call 18-Volt that way. I pulled my phone out of my pocket but it was easy to get access to the home page. It was three step lock and I had to pass all three stages to get in with no troubles. The first time I slid the dots, two stages were red and one was yellow, so I was denied. The second time, two stages were green but one stage was yellow, so I was allowed access but with a complication. The complication was something along the lines of that if I spent over 0000 credits, something would happen. There were two options on the lock screen. One was to cancel access or the second option was about the 0000 thing. Before I had a chance to think, Dreamy WB tapped the 0000 option. I became really freaked out and panicked but Dreamy WB reassured me that it was over zero credits, so if I didn’t spend anything, I would be fine. I got led to doing other things on my phone though and didn’t end up calling 18-Volt at all. That’s all I can remember about this dream. Dream 510 D - The Sweetest Burger I don’t remember much about this dream. From where I do remember, my dad and I were in a completely unknown area. We were mentioning about how my mum replicates some restaurant burgers for dinner sometimes and so he was telling me what kind of burger he would like. His idea was some sort of berry jam, brie cheese and marshmellows. At first, I thought he didn’t like marshmellows but then I realised that it was only my mum that didn’t like marshmellows. Later on in the dream, my grandma and I were at a distorted version of Waverley Gardens shopping centre but I forgot what we were doing there. A lot of the corridors were very skinny and more of the shops were closed off with construction plaster and so there was almost nothing open. That’s all I can remember about this dream. Dream 510 E - School Orchestra I don’t remember much about this dream. From where I do remember, I was in this massive unknown room which had a few rises for an orchestra. The orchestra was being led by my grade four teacher Mrs. Br who was really strict in this dream. There were members from my primary school and high school in this dream. For some unknown reason, Jeremy came up to me, took my music sheets off me, and scrunched them up in a rage. Mrs. Br then said something like “If anyone else loses their music sheets and asks for another one, I will be putting them on the internet trash archive because I will not be printing anymore copies!”. I started to feel slightly upset and didn’t know what to do because JSe took mine. I heard him heavily sigh in the background as he came to me to give mine back, unscrunching the sheets but now they looked really ugly. Mrs. Br had asked what instrument I was playing and I said I was a vocalist. She said that she would move the vocalists into the middle at the back. I didn’t agree though because that means that the vocalists would be drowned out by all the loud instruments. The dream ended there. Dream 510: Results (Competition #9) 510 A Competition Night: 14 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Non-Lucid Dream Guide: None Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes 510 B Competition Night: 14 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Lucid Dream Guide: JSc Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes 510 C Competition Night: 14 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Non-Lucid Dream Guide: Dreamy WB Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes 510 D Competition Night: 14 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Non-Lucid Dream Guide: None Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes 510 E Competition Night: 14 Lucid or Non-Lucid?: Non-Lucid Dream Guide: None Emergency Team: None Eligible For Competition Points: Yes Points For This Entry: 18.5 Calculation Details: - Non-Lucid Fragment x2 (1.0) - Full Non-Lucid Dream x2 (2.0) - First Lucid Of The Night (10.0) - Was introduced by DILD (5.0) - Have A Dream Guide Automatically Appear: Dreamy WB (0.5) + Previous Total: 57.5 Total Accumulated Points: 76.0

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8297989 https://www.dreamviews.com/blogs/karlab18/dream-baby-school-boy-scary-volt-dodgy-phone-sweetest-burger-school-orchestra-85939/

[wandering-bard-from-the-id]

Daughters of Arendelle - Chapter 33

Part II - War

Links to chapters 1 - 32 at FF.Net

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12222767/1/Daughters-of-Arendelle

Chapter 33

Sept. 14 1840

With her chin resting in the palm of her hand, Anna absently rolled a berry across a bowl of groats. Nightmares of Elsa and Kristoff calling for help, had plagued her sleep. As the morning sun broke through the window, she’d given up trying.

It didn’t help that Olaf had disappeared sometime during the night. The staff probably thought she was mad sprinting into the courtyard, barefoot and wearing nothing but her nightgown. She’d almost dropped to her knees at the sight of Elsa’s snowflake atop the castle’s spiral. Wherever her sister was, she was still alive.

“Anna, elbows.” Gerda gently scolded as she appeared from the kitchen.

Out of reflex Anna sat up, though she continued to poke at her breakfast.

“You need to eat, dear.”

Some of the tension in her shoulders eased as a hand stroked over her hair.

“No one knows what the day will bring. You need to keep your strength up.”

“So everyone keeps telling me.” Anna shoved a spoonful of groats into her mouth, forcing herself to chew.

Her eyes followed Gerda as she hurried around the room, straightening things, that already appeared straight. For years she had assumed Elsa had inherited their father’s habit of neatness, and order, but she was beginning to think Gerda had a bigger hand in it.

She forced down the groats, reaching for a glass of milk. With several gulps she emptied the glass and sat it aside. Swiping a napkin over her lips, she scooped up another large spoonful.  

“Princess Anna!” Kai swept into the room, panting from the effort. “You’re needed at the watchtower.”

“Why?”

“The Admiral sent word for you to come immediately. The enemy fleet has been spotted, ma’am.”

The spoon clinked against the bowl as Anna sprang to her feet. Her chair rocked back, tittering on two legs. Gerda caught the chair, setting it back on all fours. Anna was already out the door before Gerda could tell her to slow down.

0000

Soft humming drew Elsa from the depths of sleep. She recognized the tune as one of Anna’s favorites. With a content sigh, she rolled over snuggling into her bedding.

“Good morning, Elsa.”

Her lips turned upward at the cheery greeting. “Good morning, Olaf.” The smile slipped away, as her eyes opened. “Olaf?” She sat up looking at the snowman. “What are you doing here?”

“Anna was really worried about you, so I came to make sure you were okay. Are you okay?” His eyes narrowed as he leaned in to look her up and down.

“I’m fine. Is Anna alright?”

“Uh huh.” He sat back, rocking his feet from side to side.

Some of her mounting anxiety eased at the answer. “You shouldn’t be here. I told you to stay with Anna.”

Unconcerned by the gentle scolding, he continued to rock to music only he could hear. “I did stay with her. After she fell asleep I came looking for you. I thought if I found you it would cheer her up.”

Unable to fight his logic, Elsa didn’t even try. “I’m glad to see you.” She patted his foot, earning a little giggle from the snowman. “Wait, how did you find me?”

He shrugged. “I just knew.”

“Do you always know where I am?”

“Uh huh. Most of the time.”

“What about Anna?”

“What about her?” He smiled.

With a patience born of love, Elsa smiled at him. “Do you usually know where she is?”

“Uh huh.”

Uncertain what to make of the revelation, Elsa tucked it away for later.

The sun was just cresting the horizon, driving back the shadows with it’s advance. Most of the trolls were gone, at least, Elsa thought there were fewer stones in the clearing. Corporal Smyth was tending to several pots and pans, suspended over one of the steam vents. She caught a whiff of bacon, and her mouth began to water.

“Elsa.”

She turned toward Kristoff’s voice, to find him and Lieutenant Nickolas seated beside each other, propped up against a boulder. Sven lay at Kristoff’s side, chewing on something.

The relief on Nickolas’ face mirrored her own. “Your Majesty.” He sat aside a tin plate and several papers, and attempted a seated bow.

“Good morning, gentlemen. You’re both looking better.”

She climbed to her feet, surprised to find much of the stiffness, and pain from earlier was gone. Several younger trolls rolled past, and Olaf chased after them. She ignored them as she made her way toward the men.

“Morning.” Kristoff nodded to her.

“Good morning, Your Majesty. Are you well, ma’am?”

“I’m fine, Lieutenant.” She knelt before the men.

“Just fine?” Kristoff’s eyes narrowed as he looked her over.

“I’m a little sore, but I feel much better than I did yesterday. How are you feeling?” She motioned to the sling supporting his arm.

“I’m good, just sore.” He rubbed at his chest. “Grand Pabbie, said I was lucky, it didn’t go deeper.”

Elsa shook off the thought of what would have happened if the blade had found it’s mark. “Lieutenant, how’s your leg?”

“Fine, ma’am.” He patted a hand against the bandage encircling his thigh. “I don’t know what magic these trolls worked on it, but it’s healing well.”

“Good.” She turned to look over the blanketed figures. “And what of the men?”

Nickolas’ gaze followed hers. “They are resting well. The trolls believe they will pull through.”

Weight lifted from Elsa’s shoulders. “Good. We’ve lost too many to this madness.”

“You need to eat something.” Kristoff waved a piece of bread at her before biting deep into it and tearing off a chunk.

Elsa bit her lip to suppress a giggle at the mountain man and reindeer chewing in unison. With a little cough she ducked her head. “No, I should be going. I need to get back to town.”

Smyth appeared at her side with a plate in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Your breakfast, ma’am.” He dipped his head in a bow.

Elsa opened her mouth to decline the offer. A rumbling growl erupted from her midsection. Pale cheeks turned deep scarlet, as she placed a hand over her stomach in a failed attempt to silence it.

“Time to eat, Your Majesty.” Kristoff chuckled.

She shot him a side eyed glare. “Well, it has been awhile since my last meal. Thank you, Corporal.” She reached up taking the plate and cup from him.

The aroma of fresh coffee flooded her senses. She raised the cup drawing a deep breath. She took a sip. It coursed through her chest with a satisfying warmth. Her eyes closed with a sigh.

“Better?” Kristoff smirked.

“Much. Corporal, would you please get my horse ready. I wish to leave as soon as possible.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Make a horse ready for me as well, Corporal.” Nickolas said.

“Belay that order. The Lieutenant will not be needing a horse.”

“Your Majesty, you can’t go alone. I’ll…”

Elsa raised a hand to silence him. “Lieutenant, you are in no condition to travel. No offense, but you’ll only slow me down.”

“Sven and I can keep up.”

“No, Kristoff, you’re not going either.” She took another sip of coffee.

“How will you find your way back to Arendelle?”

A delicate eyebrow arched at him. “I found my way to the top of a mountain, in the dark. I think I can handle getting home.” Sitting the cup aside she broke off a small piece of bread.

“Your Majesty, please…”

“Gentlemen, this is not up for debate. I’m going alone.” Elsa fixed the men with a steady gaze as she took a small bite of bread. She held back another sigh at the wonderful taste of warm bread.

“Fine, but take Sven with you.”

The reindeer perked up at the suggestion.

“No. You may need him. I’m going to leave Olaf with you. If he…disappears, you must assume I failed. If that happens, it will not be safe for you to return to Arendelle.”

The men exchanged glances at the unspoken meaning behind her words.

“Your Majesty, at least take Corporal Smyth with you.”

“No, he’s needed here.”

Nickolas opened his mouth to protest, only to snap it shut. “Yes, ma’am.” He bowed his head to her.

Elsa began to eat in earnest. She had to restrain herself from rushing. Each bite was a bit of heaven, stale bread, hard cheese, and bacon had never tasted better.

Several minutes passed as the trio shared light chit chat between bites.

Nickolas sat his empty plate aside, and reached for a pile of papers. “Your Majesty, I’ve been going through some of the papers we found on the men who attacked us. It appears they were mercenaries, hired by Earl Swart.”

“Swart?” Elsa covered her mouth with a hand before swallowing a mouthful of food. “How could he afford to supply such a large number of men? Even if he sold off most of his lands…” Her eyes raised to meet his. “His wife’s inheritance. She thought he was losing the money on gambling debts.” Her mind rushed through questions. “How did they get Royal Guard uniforms?”

“From the quarter master, ma’am. I’ve found supply requests for uniforms, equipment, even gunpowder, all secured through the Arendelle quarter master’s office. They’ve been using our supplies to outfit their men.”

“Who signed for the requests?” Ice stirred as Elsa’s temper rose.

“It appears two officers have been making regular requests, ma’am. Major Reino and Lieutenant Vik.”

Elsa’s eyes narrowed. “Reino.” A stiff breeze blew through the clearing.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“So this Reino could just walk into the supply office and get anything he wanted?” Kristoff asked.

“Yes, as long as he had the proper paperwork.” Nickolas said. “It appears he’s been doing this over a couple of months. With it scattered out no one would have noticed.”

“Over a couple of months?” Kristoff repeated. “You mean since the Thaw?”

Nickolas began flipping through papers. With each page his expression grew grimmer. “Yes, it would appear so. I don’t see any dated before the Coronation.”

“Wait, isn’t Reino the one you kicked out of the castle for insulting Anna?” Kristoff looked to Elsa.

“Yes, though it appears I should have thrown him in the dungeon.” Elsa’s lips pressed into a hard line as she considered the evidence. “You said the other was Vik? Isn’t he the officer in charge at Jokulsa?”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m guessing he is helping to supply Baron Ulstein’s men.”

Anger blossomed into a frosty snowflake beneath Elsa. It stretched out in a perfect circle around her. “That explains why our scouts haven’t been able to locate the Baron.”

“It also explains how Swart’s men knew you were heading to the North Mountain. If they had reached us sooner, they could have turned the battle in Lienz’s favor.” He sighed dropping the papers onto his lap. “The question now is, where are Ulstein’s men?”

Realization dawned on Elsa bringing with it a cold touch of fear. “Lieutenant, if you were going to attack Arendelle from the sea. What would be your biggest obstacle?”

“The coastal defenses would be the biggest threat. But it would take an force three times as large as Ulstein’s to overrun the defenses. Their only hope would be…” He paused as an idea began to form. “The fjord gate. If they could take the gate tower, they could hold off our troops while opening the gate for their ships. It would allow them to land troops in the heart of the city.”

“Hold on a minute.” Kristoff raised a hand. “How could they get close enough to the gate to attack it? I mean, wouldn’t the town guard notice if a large group of armed men rode into town.”

“They would.” Elsa replied. “Even a large number of Royal Guard riding into town would draw attention.”

“True, unless…” Nickolas began rifling through the papers. Pulling one from the pile his eyes scanned over it.

Fear battled anxiety for Elsa’s attention, as Nickolas looked up at her.

He swallowed hard as he held the paper out to Elsa. “This is a travel order giving them permission to move throughout the kingdom without question.”

“What? How? Reino doesn’t have that kind of authority.” She snatched it from his hand. Her eyes swept over the order before settling on the name signed in clear, crisp handwriting at the bottom of the page. There was a sharp gasp as her breath stole away. “Tollak.”

“Yes, ma’am. It would appear the Colonel is our traitor.”

Even with the evidence staring her in the face, Elsa struggled to believe it. Tollak had been a loyal soldier. He was a war hero. Her eyes closed, as conversations and moments over the last few months began to click into place. “I’m a fool.”

“Ma’am?” Nicholas said.

She looked to him. “The truth has been under my nose the whole time, and I missed it.”

“With all due respect, Your Majesty. He had us all fooled. The Colonel has always been a bit hot headed, and overbearing, but I never would have suspected him of…treason.”

Elsa stared at the crumpled paper in her hand.

“Now his push to remove Olsen and Morten from the protection details makes sense. He wanted to move his men into positions closer to you, and Princess Anna.”

“That’s why he was working so hard to get rid of Kai.” Her eyes grew wide. “He’s replaced several of the Castle Guard. If they’re in the castle they can get to…Anna.” The plate fell from Elsa’s lap, scattering remnants of her meal across the ground. She was on her feet in one smooth motion. “Where’s my horse?”

“Your Majesty.” Nickolas dropped the papers, and began pushing against the boulder in a vain attempt to stand.

“Elsa, wait.” Kristoff tossed aside his empty plate.

“I’ve waited too long!” She snapped. “She’ll trust him, just as I did.” Elsa turned searching the clearing. “Bring me my damn horse!”

“Help me up, Sven.” Kristoff held out a hand to the reindeer.

With a snort Sven remained where he was.

“No.” Elsa’s command brought both men to a halt. “I don’t have time for this. You’ll only slow me down.”

Nickolas collapsed back into the same spot, panting at the effort. “Your Majesty, please, take Smyth with you.”

“Enough, Lieutenant. I’m going alone.”

“Are we going home, Elsa?” Olaf bounced to her side.

She knelt taking the snowman by the hand. The sight of him eased some of the anxiety threatening to overwhelm her. “Olaf, I need you to stay with Kristoff. It’s very important you stay here, do you understand?”

“I think so.

“Good. Stay out of trouble, little guy.” She rose placing a kiss on his cheek.

He giggled, ducking his head at the show of affection.

Smyth appeared at her side. “Your horse, ma’am.”

“Thank you, corporal.” She took the reins.

“Your Majesty, you should go to Captain Olsen first.” Nickolas said.

“No. It’s too far out of the way.���

“Ma’am, you don’t know how many men Tollak has in the castle, you’ll need Olsen and his men.”

“How do I know I can trust them?”

“You can trust Olsen, ma’am. I swear my life on it. Please, Queen Elsa, you’ll need reinforcements.”

“Very well.” She mounted Vor. “Keep Olaf close by.”

Nickolas’ mouth pressed into a hard line. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Elsa?” Kristoff waited for her to turn to him. “Be careful. You can’t help anyone if you end up dead.”

Her lips twitched upward at the concern. “I’ll keep that in mind. Please, thank your family for their help.”

“I will.”

“Corporal, keep watch over the men. Stay on guard.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

With a nod to the men, she turned Vor and trotted out of the clearing.

0000

“Admiral!” Anna slid into the Watchtower. Her face flush from the run. “What’s going on?”

“Your Highness,” He bowed, and held out a spyglass to her. “Our fleet is making ready to engage the enemy.”

“Engage them?” Anna took the glass, raising it to her eye. She swept back and forth, searching the horizon. “I don’t see them.”

“To your right, ma’am.”

She scanned the horizon till she spied several dots, twisting the glass, the dots came into focus. There were at least a dozen ships bobbing in the calm sea. “Are those our ships?”

“Yes, ma’am. The enemy’s fleet is approaching from their port side.”

Anna hesitated trying to remember which side was port. She moved the glass to the left till several other dots came into sight. “How far away are they?”

“Our fleet could reach the fjord in about three hours, maybe less with a good wind.”

The ships drew closer to each other, and Anna thought she saw a small puff of smoke from one of the enemy ships.

Flanked by Arendelle’s flagship, Agdar, the larger ships of the fleet held a defensive line. Ahead of the line the smaller, faster ships sped out to engage the enemy. Two Arendelle ships began circling the closest Lienz’s ship. Canon smoke masked much of the battle. After several nerve racking minutes, the Arendelle ships appeared from the smoke cloud, sailing toward the next ship.

As the smoke began to clear, the Lienz’s ship came into view. It’s mast was gone. The ship listed so hard to starboard waves were breaking over her rail. Slowly it rolled onto it’s side, exposing it’s hull to the sky. A cheer rose from the men in the watchtower.

Pleased with their first victory, Anna felt a pang of sympathy for the families of men lost aboard the sinking vessel. She shook off the thoughts before they drug her places she couldn’t afford to revisit.

Two more Leinz ships began to list under the Arendelle attack. From the enemy fleet a frigate glided toward the center of the line. There was a blinding flash of light, and one of the Arendelle ships exploded into flames.

The ship listed to starboard as the mast went up in flames. To the damaged ship’s port side another Arendelle ship erupted in blinding flash. It listed to one side as it burned. With a hole in the line, the frigate slipped through unchallenged.

“What was that?” Anna couldn’t tear her gaze from the burning ships.

“I don’t know, ma’am.” Halldor lowered his spyglass. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Four of their ships have broken the line, sir. The Agdar is in pursuit.” The watchtower guard called out.

Anna’s chest tightened as she looked to Halldor. She’d never seen him shaken. “So what do we do now?”

Halldor straightened, bringing the glass back to his eye. “We need to make ready for an attack on the coastal defenses. Those ships will try to enter the fjord and land ground troops.”

“You said they’re about three hours away right?”

“Yes, ma’am. Unless our ships can overtake, and stop them.”

Anna’s mouth opened, then closed. She swallowed hard, as her mind tried to pull together all of her possible options. Dammit Elsa, where are you? You’re good at this stuff. “Make sure the coastal defenses are manned and ready. Notify the townspeople of the approaching ships. We need to begin moving citizens into the castle, if they wish to shelter there.”

“Your Highness, the castle walls won’t be able to withstand the cannon fire from those ships.” Halldor said.

“They’ll have too, Admiral. We’ve got to hold the castle till the enemy’s defeated or Elsa returns.” She was grateful when he didn’t point out Elsa might not return.

“Your Highness, we will need all of the men at their stations. The people will have to use their own means to get to the castle or out of town.”

Anna looked from the town to the sea, before turning to Halldor. “There are some men we can spare, Admiral.” She called over her shoulder. “Captain Morten?”

He stepped to her side. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“Have horses made ready for me and my guard detail. Oh, and I’ll need a wagon.”

She caught the look Morten stole at Halldor.

“Your Highness,” Halldor began, she could almost hear the sigh in his voice. “I think it would be best if you remained within the castle walls.”

“I’m not going to hide in the castle while the people are in danger, Admiral. With my guard detail we’ve got enough men to help ferry people to the castle.”

“Your Highness, I…” Morten began.

“This is not up for debate, Captain. Get the men ready. I’m leaving within the next fifteen minutes, with or without you.” Anna’s eyes narrowed, daring him to challenge her.

He snapped to attention. “Yes, Your Highness.”

No one noticed as Tollak slipped from the room.

“Admiral, I’ll be in my chambers getting ready. After that you’ll find me in town.”

“Your Highness, you must return to the castle before the enemy ships reach the fjord. You won’t be safe in town.”

She straightened, pulling back her shoulders. “I understand. I’ll be back before they reach the fjord. Let’s go, Captain.” Not waiting for a reply she turned and hurried to the door.

0000

With the troll valley well behind her, Elsa began to question her decision to find Olsen. Nickolas was right about needing men she could trust, but time was not on her side.

The snort of a horse drew her from her thoughts. With a pull on the reins, Vor came to a halt. Elsa bit back a curse as horsemen appeared from the tree line, riding toward her. Ice flared around her hands, it eased back from her fingertips to the palms of her hands, at the sight of Royal Guard uniforms.

There were two men. The larger of the two was as tall and broad as Kristoff. Though his blond hair was lighter than the mountain man’s. He appeared several years younger than the dark haired man beside him.

The dark haired guard was shorter and lean built. His jaw was set firm as he rode toward her.

“Queen Elsa.” The blond haired guard called as they drew closer. He broke into a broad smile as he pulled his horse to a stop several feet from her.

“What are you doing here?” She demanded.

“Looking for you, ma’am.” There was a hint of jest in his reply.

Both men looked familiar, she was certain she’d seen them among the town guard. But, Tollak controls the town guard, ice pulsed against her palm with the thought.

“Princess Anna sent us to search for you, ma’am.”

“Anna sent you?” The pulsing in her veins slowed to a faint hum. She could feel the glaze of the silent dark haired guard upon her. His dark brown eyes seems to bore through her. The humming ice grew a little stronger.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What is the situation in Arendelle?”

“When we left last night the enemy fleet had been spotted, ma’am.” The blond haired guard replied. “Admiral Halldor thinks they will engage our fleet sometime this morning.”

“And what of the princess, how was she when you left?”

“She was well, ma’am. Worried about you, but in good spirits, all things considered.”  

“Good.” She fixed the silent guard with a level gaze. “Are you well, Corporal?”

His head tilted ever so slightly to her. “Yes, Your Majesty. It’s been a long night.”

She nodded, not completely satisfied with his answer. “Yes, it has, and I fear it will be an even longer day.”

“As you say, ma’am.”

His stare was starting to unnerve her. “Are Captain Olsen’s men still on the mountain?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The blond guard replied.

“Take me to him.”

The men exchanged a quick look.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” Elsa was losing patience with the men.

“Ma’am, our orders were to escort you back to the castle.” The blond guard said.

“Your orders, Corporal, are to lead me to Captain Olsen.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Some emotion Elsa couldn’t read flashed across the man’s face as his back stiffened.  

Ice tickled her fingertips. She closed her hands tight over the reins, to hold it at bay.

The man half bowed in the saddle. “This way, Your Majesty.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes as he turned his horse and started away.

The silent guard hung back to let Elsa pass. “I’ll guard the rear…ma’am.”

Elsa held her ground. “No, Corporal. I’d prefer to follow.”

He stared at her a moment. “As you wish, ma’am.” Not waiting for a reply he turned his horse, and followed after his partner.

Elsa wanted to trust the men. After all they were Royal Guards, men sworn to protect her. Still, she couldn’t shake the growing distrust she felt. With a weary eye on the men, and the surrounding woods she coaxed Vor to follow them.

0000

Anna stepped from the castle onto the portico. She was keenly aware all eyes had turned to her. The silence was deafening. “Are we ready to go, Captain?” She stepped from the portico, strolling toward the waiting men.

“Yes, Your Highness.” Morten’s eyes swept up and down her. His brow arched, but he said nothing.

“Good. Has there been any word from my sis… from the Queen?”

“No, Your Highness, the scouts haven’t returned.” Morten replied.

The knot in her stomach drew a little tighter. She adjusted the bow slung over her back.

“Princess Anna!” Kai hurried across the portico and down the steps. “You can’t go.”

She pulled on the winged helmet, tucking her bangs out of the way. “Yes, I can.”

“The Queen ordered you to stay here, ma’am.”

Anna bit back a chuckle, she’d never heard the Chamberlain take such a firm tone with her. “My sister ordered me to stay in Arendelle, not the castle.” She fastened the chin strap, and adjusted the helmet. It felt snug on her head, but not uncomfortable.

Kai’s features softened. “Until the Queen returns you are needed here, ma’am.”

Avoiding his gaze, Anna adjusted the quiver hanging at her hip. “No, I’m needed where I can do some good. We need to get the people sheltered in the castle before the enemy arrives. That, I can help with.” Her fingertips traced over the stone in the sword’s guard. It was strangely comforting.

Kai’s eyebrows rose as he took in her appearance. “Ma’am, where did you find that helmet?”

Anna reached up and stroked one of the finely detailed wings, sweeping upward from the sides of the helmet. “It was in a trunk in the East wing. Do you like it?”

His brow raised a little higher. “It’s very…unique.”

“I know. It looks like the ones in the old Valkyrie paintings.” She smiled up at him.

“Yes, it does.” There was a grim set to Kai’s jaw, Anna knew meant she was breaking some silly rule. “Your Highness, it’s not…proper, for you to wear the Queen’s armor.”

“She wasn’t using it, and she never said, I couldn’t borrow it. And if she doesn’t like it, well, that’s between me and my sister.”

Morten was certain the Princess was breaking every rule of etiquette and tradition imaginable. But, he was wise enough to know he did not want to be caught in an argument between the sisters. There were some battle lines even he wouldn’t cross. Still the Princess was his charge, and he had to protect her, even if, it was from herself.

“Your Highness,” Morten tried to keep his tone neutral. “You’re aware that is ceremonial armor. It’s not designed for heavy combat.”

“I know.” Anna lied. “But, it gives an image for the people to rally around.”

“Princess Anna!” Gerda ran from the castle entrance with more speed than Anna would have thought the older woman capable of. Alma followed close on her heels.

“Yes, Gerda?” Anna twisted to check one of the leather straps on the breast plate.

“You are not leaving this castle.” Her face flushed from the run. The handmaiden stood tall, scowling down at the younger woman.

Anna took no offense at the woman’s sharp tone. “Yes, I am.”

Alma leaned in. “Anna, dear, we can’t risk something happening to you.”

Anna placed a hand on each woman’s arm, looking between them as she spoke. “You’ve spent years teaching me what it means to be a princess. I know what is expected of me, and I’m going to do my duty. Just as my sister would.” She squeezed their arms, offering them a warm smile.

As she moved to turn away, Gerda caught her arm. She leaned in for only Anna to hear. “Please, be careful, button.”

Anna nearly broke at the endearment. “I will.” She turned to find Kai in her path.

“Please, Princess Anna, don’t do this.”

“Don’t worry so, Kai. It’ll be alright.” She patted his arm, offering him a broad smile.

“I always worry about you, Milady.”

She ducked her head, against the rush of emotions, threatening to overtake her. “I know.” Pushing down the emotions she straightened. “I’ll see you for dinner.” Not waiting for an answer she spun on her heels, and marched to her horse. In one smooth motion she mounted Kjekk.

“Captain, we’ll start with the closer houses, then work our way to the orphanage. Viktoria will need help getting the children to the castle.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She looked around the courtyard. “Where is Colonel Tollak?”

Morten twisted in the saddle, searching the grounds. “I’m not sure, Your Highness. Would you like me to send someone to find him?”

“No. That won’t be necessary.” Anna couldn’t shake the nagging feeling something was wrong. “Alright gentlemen, let’s not keep the people waiting.” She guided Kjekk to Captain Morten’s side. With a command from Halvor the men formed up to follow. A wagon rattled along behind the small group.

As they disappeared through the gates, Gerda moved to Kai’s side. “She doesn’t belong out there.”

Kai watched as the wagon passed the gates. “I know. But, she’s right, it is her duty. Come along, wife, we’ve work to do.”

With a last look at the empty gate, Gerda followed after him.

0000

Tollak made his way through the forest, behind him laid Arendelle. Every once in a while he could hear shouts or animal calls. But they were too far away to distinguish. He made his way to a cliff overlooking the sea. From a pocket he pulled out a spyglass, and focused it on the horizon. In the distance five ships were making their way toward the coastline. Four were on a direct course for the fjord gate. The fifth, a frigate, had veered away from the others. It’s course would bring it to the beach at the base of the cliff.

In the distance, the Arendelle flagship, Agdar, gave chase to the three ships heading for the fjord. The rest of the Arendelle flee was either damaged or battling the remaining Lienz ships. His head nodded in approval. The Agdar was a fine, fast ship, but she’d be hard pressed to capture the ships racing for the fjord. Even if she did, three to one were steep odds.

He fell a twinge of remorse for the brave sailors and Marines sure to be lost in the coming battle. They’re good men, but their sacrifices are necessary. With that thought he snapped the spyglass closed and started down the narrow path leading to the beach. With the fleet overrun, and the town and fjord posed for capture, it would only be a matter of time before the castle would be forced to surrender, his men would see to that.

It’ll be over soon, he smiled at the thought.

[jacobrosenthal]

Hackaday Superconference Badge Hacking

At the Hackaday Superconference this year Blaine and I finally decided to try our hand at a conference badge puzzle. The cambadge was introduced a month before the conference with the source code following shortly after so you you could prepare hack ideas and even start prototyping shields and addons. In their words:

It’s a camera. It has games, and it’s designed by [Mike Harrison] of Mike’s Electric Stuff. He designed and prototyped this badge in a single weekend. On board is a PIC32 microcontroller, an OV9650 camera module, and a bright, crisp 128×128 resolution color OLED display.

There would be prizes for best hardware hack, best app hack and even a film fest prize. But most importantly, there was also a puzzle prize. The puzzle firmware was implemented by Mike Szczys with the ciphers being developed by Jeff Rosowski (Krux).

Navigating to the puzzle menu revealed three options in binary, 00, 01, 10. 

00 was some graphical 'game', 01 appeared to be a reciting of the hacker's manifesto, and 10 was a ouija board. That's all the information we were given.

PUZZLE 00

We halfheartedly played with the 00 puzzle while trying to be social during the pre party and started to put together a ruleset. A green cursor could be moved around an 8x8 grid by tilting the accelerometer. One button seemed to ‘place’ a red circle under the cursor. Further placements that shared a row (vertically, horizontally or diagonally) would light up the row in orange. 

This was presumably a failure scenario but it was puzzling that we still had control of the cursor. A very jetlagged Scotty from StrangeParts got six placements before giving it up and handing it back, suggesting to google it or write a script to solve it. We finally figured out the failure screen allows you to remove a failed placement and continue the game. This allowed us to put down a random six placements and continue taking back movements until we had all eight which went surprisingly quickly. In just a few minutes and roughly five take backs we had "Winner Winner!" printed on screen. 

Suspiciously, the menu screen also now has a set of hieroglyphic symbols under the 00 menu item. In googling later, we’d find out later this is a Queens Puzzle and we got a bit lucky. Theres 92 possible solutions but our methodology is called iterative repair and does not guarantee a solution.

PUZZLE 10

We talked to John Dahan who won last year by using the strings command on the binary to find the success email to skip all puzzles. Strings is a common utility that prints all ascii characters it can find in a binary. We talked to Mike who said that wasn't going to work this year, but were were undeterred. Before even bothering to understand the puzzle ruleset we just started looking at the scrubbed source and production hex file. The source was definitely missing the puzzles, though we did get a dist folder with intact elf files. That could come in very handy and also means we don’t have to install MPLAB-X IDE ide to generate it myself. The .hex file was strange though. Generally .hex are intel hex format, ie ascii hex code representation with checksumming, but this was a binary. We wasted a bunch of time here remembering obj-copy stuff, only to realize we weren’t gaining anything and this was indeed a binary we could utilize as is. Running “strings Badge103.hex” output the results in this gist.

After entering eight letters into ouija board the screen reads “What was that?” and appears to tell you which letters you had right by “X”ing out incorrect letters. 

This would be super easy in retrospect, but hacking was way more fun. We searched the strings list for “What was that” hoping to find any suspicious text around it.

$ strings Badge103.hex  | grep -A 5 "What was that"

What was that?

HACKADAY  

MARKUSHESS

None

Not found

Read Err

HACKADAY is indeed eight characters which when entered was answered with “The planchette moves by itself:” and the code “PNIRHJZYL GSIXDF WFDNXJF JH CZDRI.”

Too lazy to bother cracking the cipher we entered “MARKUSHESS.” Though we still have no idea how to crack this code, Markus was the hacker from Clifford Stoll’s The Cuckoo's Egg so we weren’t surprised to receive an egg image.

We were subsequently kicked back out to the puzzle menu now with more symbols.

PUZZLE 01

The puzzle consists of twenty-seven lines of the Hacker’s Manifesto where you must scroll each line left or right to read it on the tiny screen. For some reason the cursor always starts at the fourth line which seems odd. At the bottom there is a list of twenty-seven negative and positive numbers with a four alpha character input to presumably complete the puzzle.

It seems obvious that the list of numbers maps to the lines of the manifesto. We looked to see if aligning the rows might spell a question in far right or left column that we could answer with four characters, but couldn't see anything obvious.

It was a huge pain to click buttons and invariably the badge would turn off or we’d get distracted and lose our place. We glanced through the strings dump for anything that might make sense for puzzle 10, but didn't see anything this time. As the party was ending we spent time running down mysterious QR codes that showed up around the venue thinking they could be related somehow, but were thrown out before we could get more than a few. 

Later we woudl find there was a (seperate) prize that unlocked on the badge if you scanned all ten of the mysterious QR codes sprinkled throughout the venues.

The next day we were bored looking at puzzles and wanted to do more reverse engineering. I've been looking for a reason to get better with Radare forever. Radare lets you snoop through binaries, disassemble them, rebuild the function graph, and even edit the code in place! So not unlike a crackme, we could presumably find the code that prints Winner, backtrace to find the branching instruction that decides success, and hardcode it to so that when we enter the game it gives us the winner screen. TLDR feel free to skip this section as we didn’t get anywhere, but we would love guidance to be better at this for the next conference.

HUGE DIVERSION AHEAD

Radare has a bit of a learning curve, as described by a slide from a recent talk from the founding developer, pancake.

We can open our binary file in Radare and analyze it for functions, printing the results.

$ r2 -a mips -e asm.bits=32 Badge103.hex

WARNING: bin_strings buffer is too big (0x02bf8a80). Use -zzz or set bin.maxstrbuf (RABIN2_MAXSTRBUF) in r2 (rabin2)

-- It's not a bug, it's a work in progress

[0x00000000]> aaa

[x] Analyze all flags starting with sym. and entry0 (aa)

[ ]

[aav: Cannot find section at this address

aav: Cannot find section at this address

[x] Analyze len bytes of instructions for references (aar)

[x] Analyze function calls (aac)

[ ] [*] Use -AA or aaaa to perform additional experimental analysis.

[x] Constructing a function name for fcn.* and sym.func.* functions (aan))

[0x00000000]> afl

0x00000000    1 16           fcn.00000000

[0x00000000]>

We should see a huge list of functions, but sadly we don’t. Earlier we found someone saved us having to install MPLAB-X IDE and we also have an unmangled elf to mess with.

$ r2 -a mips ~/Downloads/cambadge.X/dist/Normal/production/cambadge.X.production.elf

Warning: Cannot initialize dynamic strings

-- The unix-like reverse engineering framework.

[0x9d009000]> aaa

[x] Analyze all flags starting with sym. and entry0 (aa)

[ ]

[aav: using from to 0x9d000000 0x9d08b3f3

Using vmin 0x9d000000 and vmax 0xbfc00c00

aav: using from to 0x9d000000 0x9d08b3f3

Using vmin 0x9d000000 and vmax 0xbfc00c00

[x] Analyze len bytes of instructions for references (aar)

[x] Analyze function calls (aac)

[ ] [*] Use -AA or aaaa to perform additional experimental analysis.

[x] Constructing a function name for fcn.* and sym.func.* functions (aan))

0x9d008180    1 16           sym._gen_exception

0x9d008200   44 1384         sym.__vector_dispatch_0

0x9d008220   43 1352         sym.__vector_dispatch_1

….

0x9d023cd8    1 8            sym._on_bootstrap

0x9d023ce0    1 8            sym._libc_private_storage

0xbfc00480    3 1908         sym.__DbgExecReturn

[0x9d009000]>

That’s what we’re supposed to see! We can even visualize a complete call graph.

But remember, we know this has all our puzzles stripped so there won’t be much to see here. What we want is this view in our puzzle inclusive binary. Why doesn't our binary ‘hex’ file load cleanly into Radare? Presumably the elf file has a bunch of debug info like sections and entry point (reset vector) to help set up Radare automatically which we don’t understand how to do manually. So how do we help it? In our production dist files we also have a .map file that has the function names and addresses in it. There we find the reset address

.reset                  0x9d009000          0x1e4         484  Reset handler

And from cambadge.X.production.elf we can get the entry point(reset vector) to confirm

[0x9d009000]> ie

[Entrypoints]

vaddr=0x9d009000 paddr=0x00009000 baddr=0x9d000000 laddr=0x00000000 haddr=0x00000018 type=program

1 entrypoints

[0x9d009000]>

And we can print the hexdump of the binary code at that location

[0x9d009000]> px @ 0x9d009000

- offset -   0 1  2 3  4 5  6 7  8 9  A B  C D  E F  0123456789ABCDEF

0x9d009000  0224 400f 0000 0000 0060 1a40 c004 5a7f  .$@......`.@..Z.

0x9d009010  0500 4013 0000 0000 029d 1a3c a43c 5a27  ..@........<.<Z'

0x9d009020  0800 4003 0000 0000 01a0 1d3c f0ff bd27  ..@........<...'

0x9d009030  00a0 1c3c f07f 9c27 029d 083c d03c 0825  ...<...'...<.<.%

0x9d009040  09f8 0001 0000 0000 00a0 083c 1c00 0825  ...........<...%

0x9d009050  01a0 093c 5cea 2925 0600 0010 0000 0000  ...<\.)%........

0x9d009060  0000 00ad 0400 00ad 0800 00ad 0c00 00ad  ................

0x9d009070  1000 0825 2b08 0901 f9ff 2014 0000 0000  ...%+..... .....

0x9d009080  029d 083c f8fb 0825 0000 098d 1800 2011  ...<...%...... .

0x9d009090  0400 0825 0000 0a8d 0400 0825 0000 0b8d  ...%.......%....

0x9d0090a0  0900 6011 0400 0825 0000 0c91 ffff 4a25  ..`....%......J%

0x9d0090b0  0100 0825 0000 2ca1 fbff 4015 0100 2925  ...%..,...@...)%

0x9d0090c0  0500 0010 0000 0000 0000 20a1 ffff 4a25  .......... ...J%

0x9d0090d0  fdff 4015 0100 2925 0300 0825 fcff 0a24  ..@...)%...%...$

0x9d0090e0  2440 4801 0000 098d e7ff 2015 0000 0000  $@H....... .....

0x9d0090f0  0000 093c 0000 2925 1000 2011 0000 0000  ...<..)%.. .....

[0x9d009000]>

Back to our puzzle inclusive binary code, Let’s search for that reset vector bytecode “0224 400f” as that shouldn't have changed even with puzzles stripped out:

$ r2 -a mips -e asm.bits=32 Badge103.hex

[0x00000000]> /x 0224 400f

Searching 3 bytes in [0x0-0x2bf8a80]

hits: 5

0x00000e80 hit0_0 022440

0x00006d66 hit0_1 022440

0x000102ce hit0_2 022440

0x000191fe hit0_3 022440

0x00025466 hit0_4 022440

[0x00000000]> px @ hit0_0

- offset -   0 1  2 3  4 5  6 7  8 9  A B  C D  E F  0123456789ABCDEF

0x00000e80  0224 400f 0000 0000 0060 1a40 c004 5a7f  .$@......`.@..Z.

0x00000e90  0500 4013 0000 0000 039d 1a3c 9cd6 5a27  ..@........<..Z'

0x00000ea0  0800 4003 0000 0000 01a0 1d3c f0ff bd27  ..@........<...'

0x00000eb0  00a0 1c3c f07f 9c27 039d 083c c8d6 0825  ...<...'...<...%

0x00000ec0  09f8 0001 0000 0000 00a0 083c 3c00 0825  ...........<<..%

0x00000ed0  01a0 093c b0ea 2925 0600 0010 0000 0000  ...<..)%........

0x00000ee0  0000 00ad 0400 00ad 0800 00ad 0c00 00ad  ................

0x00000ef0  1000 0825 2b08 0901 f9ff 2014 0000 0000  ...%+..... .....

0x00000f00  029d 083c d478 0825 0000 098d 1800 2011  ...<.x.%...... .

0x00000f10  0400 0825 0000 0a8d 0400 0825 0000 0b8d  ...%.......%....

0x00000f20  0900 6011 0400 0825 0000 0c91 ffff 4a25  ..`....%......J%

0x00000f30  0100 0825 0000 2ca1 fbff 4015 0100 2925  ...%..,...@...)%

0x00000f40  0500 0010 0000 0000 0000 20a1 ffff 4a25  .......... ...J%

0x00000f50  fdff 4015 0100 2925 0300 0825 fcff 0a24  ..@...)%...%...$

0x00000f60  2440 4801 0000 098d e7ff 2015 0000 0000  $@H....... .....

0x00000f70  0000 093c 0000 2925 1000 2011 0000 0000  ...<..)%.. .....

[0x00000000]>

Found it! Maybe we can shift our 0x00000e80 address by 0x9D008180 so it becomes 0x9d009000 and Radare has more success analyzing functions? This is where we gave up though. Anyone reading this please reach out if you can help us understand Radare better for the next conference.

Back on track

A day lost, we went back to solving it the honest way -- sort of. Blaine wasn’t even an official attendee so we were having to share a badge. Since we were armed with the strings dump of the manifesto text and list of integes we turned to node to script something to print the columns so we could maybe see what we couldn’t see with our own eyes.

Still, nothing looked right and we went down a hundred other rabbit holes that didn't work out, all the while begging Krux and Mike for any guidance. Finally when the conference ceremony was just hours away Krux helped us find our script had an off by one error. With that fixed it turns out all this time a middle column read “realbunniehuanghardwarehack” Bunnie was perhaps first known for hacking the xbox. “Winner Winner!”

A Fourth Puzzle

Now we had a third set of hieroglyphs and “badge17@hackaday.com”. To be fair we saw this email in the strings earlier, so we're pretty sure we'd be seeing it again. But what were these glyphs?

Several, especially the last one sure looks like unicode but we couldn’t find many of the rest. We spent a lot of time on that before asking Krux who didn't seem interested in that line of reasoning. We decided to do a transposition arbitrarily to the english alphabet just to play with the characters. Transposing the first character to a, and so one, we got “abcde fgahidjkclefg gmgce ccgcm nkeopfi” There were only 16 distinct 'letters', with c, g, and e being highest in frequency. However this tiny subset of text just doesn't lend to any kind of frequency analysis. We spent a lot of time thinking the spaces were useful and that “ccgcm” would be an odd word with double repeated starting letter. Llama didn’t seem likely, but you never know. We looked at brute forcing rot, morse and other symbol alphabets but didn’t come up with anything that worked before we finally ran out of time.

During the badge ceremony one other team had apparently also got this far and was awarded some cash for their efforts. Mike and Krux spoiled the last puzzle on stage, it's apparently the Commander Keen, Standard Galactic Alphabet. When translated it reads: “PRESTONPLUSWHEATONNINETEENEIGHTYFOUR” which is a Last Starfighter reference. Presumably emailing “Last Starfighter” to badge17@hackaday.com would have won us the that sweet $256 prize.

Next time

Huge thanks to everyone involved at Superconference. It was a crazy lineup of amazing speakers. It was also awesome to see so much money given away to the Hackaday prize entrants I had been bumping into all weekend. Huge thanks to Mike and Krux for getting us to commit to a badge puzzle for the first time and for helping us through to the (very) end.

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

Wharton, University of PennsylvaniaThe K@W Network:English简体中文繁體中文EspañolPortuguésLog InRegisterFacebookTwitterLinkedIn Knowledge @ Wharton Search TOPICSREGIONSRESEARCHK@W RADIOMOREABOUT MANAGEMENT The Biggest Mistakes Job Seekers Make Today Jul 10, 2017 Books Business Radio Human Resources Podcasts North America Twitter Facebook LinkedIn Google+ Email Print Comment Quote Subscribe on iTunes! MIC LISTEN TO THE PODCAST: Illana Gershon discusses her new book: Down and Out in the New Economy: How People Find and Don’t Find Work Today Audio Player 00:0000:00 What does it take to get a good job in today’s ever-evolving economy? Some people looking for that next position believe that networking is a key to success — whether through social connections or websites like LinkedIn. Others focus on crafting the personal brand they think will appeal to hiring managers. But a lot of those job seekers are way off the mark, says Illana Gershon, who has researched what works best and has reported the results in her book — Down and Out in the New Economy: How People Find and (or Don’t Find) Work Today. Gershon, an Indiana University professor of anthropology, discussed her findings on the Knowledge@Wharton Show, which airs on Sirius XM channel 111. She summed up the pervasive myths and out-of-date techniques, and offered advice for taking the pain out of the job-hunting process. An edited transcript of the conversation follows. Knowledge@Wharton: Let’s start with some of the best things people are doing right now in their job searches, and then also some of the biggest mistakes. What are you seeing? Ilana Gershon: People are becoming extremely canny about doing research on the companies that they are interested in being hired into, and they’re thinking more carefully about what kinds of jobs that they would like to have. This is the thing that I’ve been really impressed by: People are getting more and more clever about figuring out whether the workplace that they are perhaps about to join is really a workplace that they want to be a part of. What are the worst things that they are doing? There are two things that people seem to be spending a lot of time doing, that as far as I could tell, was wasting their time. It’s not necessarily a bad thing that they’re doing, but the question is, what is going to make the job search take longer? One of the things that seems to be taking up a lot of people’s time and not getting as much in the way of results as they would like is personal branding. People are putting in a lot of time in to making sure that their online presence reflects what they see as their authentic self, and on the hiring side, nobody seemed to care about personal branding. But personal branding, as you know, takes a lot of time. “On the hiring side, nobody seemed to care about personal branding. But personal branding, as you know, takes a lot of time.” The other thing that people seem to be doing — and it took me a while to realize why and how this was taking up a lot of people’s time — was focusing on weak ties or weak links in order to be able to get jobs. Weak ties and weak links used to be the ways that people were getting jobs. It used to be very effective in the 1970s, but nowadays, technology has changed so much that the pain point in getting a job has really shifted from trying to find out that the job exists in the first place to figuring out how to have hiring managers or recruiters notice you amid a pile of resumes. It’s more a question of getting noticed rather than finding out that the job exists. Weak ties aren’t so helpful for that. It turns out that workplace ties — having someone who knew you from a previous job and can talk about what you are like as a worker — was very helpful for people. Knowledge@Wharton: How effective do you believe LinkedIn is right now? It has seemingly become one of the go-to locations for people to be able to connect with others, and obviously, as you alluded to, in this digital age you need to have that component to your job search, but I don’t think it can be the be-all and end-all. Gershon: No, absolutely not. LinkedIn was something that everybody who I was talking to was a little bit baffled by, actually, and they wanted it to work a lot better than it did. I think what happened is that if you’re trying to get a job in a social community where people are actively using LinkedIn and willing to respond to LinkedIn messages, then it’s really productive. But it’s not necessarily just about LinkedIn — it’s how people you know are using it, and whether it’s working well. Part of the reason Facebook works so well is that it’s a social community that people are using to make it work well. LinkedIn seemed to work very well as a recruiter database. So if you’re looking for a job that you could get if a recruiter notices you, then writing your LinkedIn profile so that recruiters will notice you, in terms of making sure that you have the right keywords, seemed really important. The other thing that LinkedIn seems to do that’s important is, it serves as a directory. People now are constantly moving from company to company, and if you know someone, but you don’t know them well enough to have another way to contact them outside of the company contact, LinkedIn worked very well as a Rolodex. Knowledge@Wharton: Personal branding is quite an investment financially and time-wise. You went to some seminars on personal branding — what did you learn there? Gershon: I was really trying to go see what job advice is circulating out there right now, so I ended up going to a lot of free personal branding workshops for job-seekers to learn how to do this. What people were saying is that what you need to do is figure out what three or four words reflect your authentic self, and then make sure that your online presence and your offline interactions all line up with those three or four words. SPONSORED CONTENT: The other thing that people kept talking about as being very important was that these words really reflected your authentic self, and that they weren’t just any words that you thought might work or that seemed comfortable for you to use — it had to work because of authenticity. This was something that just really baffled me, because I couldn’t figure out why it actually had to reflect your authentic self. People are quite good at creating personas in this particular situation — a character that they will perform as in a workplace, or perform in a particular context. It doesn’t necessarily have to be fundamentally true to who they are for it to be really effective. But this is part of what the idea of personal branding was supposed to be. Knowledge@Wharton: Part of this is because companies not only want somebody who is a good fit from a business perspective, but also someone who is a good fit from the corporate structure perspective. They don’t want to hire somebody who is going to be really grating on the other employees. “The pain point in getting a job has really shifted from trying to find out that the job exists in the first place to figuring out how to have hiring managers or recruiters notice you….” Gershon: Oh, I completely agree — I just don’t think that personal branding is a good way to figure out whether someone is going to be grating or not. One of the things that I find interesting is that in my life, the people who are most consistent, who are the same from context to context, are really the most unpleasant. Knowledge@Wharton: You also talk about how this can be a regional issue. Going after a job and making contact with people in Seattle is obviously going to be a little bit different than in New York City or Missouri or Montana. Gershon: I found that that was really true when it came to the length of time that people expected employees to stay at a company. In San Francisco, where I was doing most of my research, people expected a job tenure of two or three years; in the Midwest, people were expecting more like five to eight years. So when people in the Bay Area were looking at a job applicant from the Midwest they would say, “But wait a minute, you stayed too long. You were too static.” This was really a problem. Then I talked to people who were interviewing for jobs in Chicago, and they found it really frustrating because they kept being told, “But you’re a job-hopper, you don’t commit.” And they would say, “But this is the right length of time in my region.” Knowledge@Wharton: I find it interesting because people are basing their opinions about that on what they see in a profile, but there can be a variety of different reasons why somebody was a job-hopper, or why somebody wasn’t a job-hopper. Gershon: Absolutely. Knowledge@Wharton: Family, health issues, etc. — those are the things that, in the end, really can only be determined when you actually sit down and talk to somebody. Gershon: Or being really happy at your workplace. Knowledge@Wharton: Right. To a degree then, do people need to be their own marketing agency when they are trying to go for that new job? Gershon: I hope not. I really, really hope not. I think that this is something that we’re being pressured into, and I think that there are a lot of ways in which the people who are being pressured into doing this are really not very happy with it. Like I said, it takes a lot of time, it makes the job-search process so problematic that it’s very hard for people to look for a job and have a job at the same time, and yet that’s what you’re supposed to do. As a society, we need to figure out a different way to hire so that we’re not putting these impossible pressures on people.   Knowledge@Wharton: Google is starting a new venture in this arena — a Google for jobs. Gershon: That’s very interesting. I wonder what they are going to be doing that is different than what is already available — because a lot of the information that you actually need about jobs is not necessarily information that you can get from online interaction. I think Glassdoor is very, very helpful for people in terms of offering insights into what workplaces are like, but job descriptions and the information on the site that companies carefully manage as though it is a recruitment portal are not necessarily as helpful for job seekers. I don’t know what Google is actually doing on this front, but it would be interesting to see what ways they allow people to share information about what is actually happening in a job. Knowledge@Wharton: Marty is in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Marty, welcome to the show. Marty: A comment and a question. My thoughts are that in terms of the job search, intentionality in my mind is the most important thing. Having a plan, no different than you would have a business strategy: What kinds of jobs you want, where do you want to be, who do you want to work with. There’s so much information out there that you can learn all of this, but to have an intentional plan – unfortunately, that does take work. “When people in the Bay Area were looking at a job applicant from the Midwest they would say, ‘But wait a minute, you stayed too long. You were too static.’ ” Gershon: I think you’re absolutely right. I think that’s what I began with. When asked what are people doing that they are doing really well, they’re getting better and better at researching the companies, thinking through what they actually want, and figuring out how to tell whether a company is really going to be able to offer that for them or not. I think you are right being thoughtful and intentional in that particular way, and knowing how to do good research is really helpful. Knowledge@Wharton: It feels like more people just have that expectation of having to do the work of developing a strategy. Gershon: I think they do have to do it. Yes. What was very interesting for me was that the workshops were divided up based on the level of job one was seeking, in terms of whether they were getting this kind of advice or not. People who were trying to be upper-level management were getting the advice that they needed — to do a lot more research and think very strategically about which business they wanted to partner with, and to imagine their hiring as partnering with a business instead of becoming an employee, if you know what I mean. At the workshops for just anybody — and especially, for lower-level, white-collar work — people were being told, “This strategy is just for getting any job.” Sometimes people would talk about being more strategic about it, but it would be helpful if everyone was thinking more strategically about whether particular workplaces were the right places for them. It also might put pressure on companies to deal with their job applicants in a better way. Because there isn’t that much pressure on companies right now to do as well as they can by their job applicants — to give them information about when the job is no longer available; to give them enough information about what the job will actually be like. There are a lot of complaints among job seekers about how badly they are being treated in the hiring process. Knowledge@Wharton: That would require a shift in the HR dimension of this, part of which would be around the connection, and also, I would imagine, partly in the technology behind it. Gershon: Yes, possibly. I think you could have a technology solution that would let all the applicants and job sites know when a job had been filled. Knowledge@Wharton: Right, but there are companies out there that still don’t do that these days, which is kind of surprising. As advanced as we are technologically, you will see jobs actively posted that were filled a month, two months, three months before, and they’re still out there showing up as potential jobs for people. Gershon: Right. I think that this is deeply frustrating for people. ADDITIONAL READING MANAGEMENT How John Flannery’s GE Will Adapt to Change Incoming GE CEO John L. Flannery is unlikely to initiate any dramatic changes in the firm's business strategy, but will step up its focus on digital technologies, according to vice chairman John Rice. TECHNOLOGY Technology and the Decline of Morality Former Hearst executive Eden Collinsworth explores the fluid lines of morality today in her new book. SPONSORED CONTENT Leveraging Customer Analytics: The Insurance Industry Wharton professor and analytics expert Peter Fader joins WNS executive Mike Nemeth to discuss the power of harnessing customer analytics in the insurance industry for business success.  Join The Discussion 3 Comments So Far Log In or sign up to comment Anumakonda Jagadeesh Excellent. Some Tips for Job Seekers to avoid mistakes: If you’re sending out resumes without knowing what your ideal job is, you’re wasting your valuable time. So, before shipping off another application, be sure to sit down and define what type of job you’re looking for. This way, you’ll have a more focused search and can create a goal-oriented resume to match. Do you have bad interviewing habits? In other words, do you assume you’re on a first-name basis with interviewers? Or do you slouch in your seat? If so, be sure to learn about appropriate body language and ways to address interviews so that you can always come across as a confident candidate with plenty to offer. Many interviewees get stuck with the question, “Why did you leave your previous employer?” While you may want to say that your previous boss was a jerk, this is not the time or place to mention it. So if you’re asked this question, just say you were looking for new opportunities to broaden your horizon. While job fairs may feel like impersonal functions for individuals who are desperate for work, nothing could be further from the truth. In fact, some great networking opportunities can be found at job fairs, not just with company representatives but other job fair attendees. When interviewing, company representatives are watching your every move, including how you’re dressed. If your attire is too casual, sexy, or plain outrageous, your amazing resume or interviewing skills may do little to get you hired. Another mistake to avoid is not following up with an employer after your interview. To make sure you remain on the employer’s mind, send a follow-up e-mail of about three or four paragraphs that summarize your skills, reiterates your eagerness to be hired, and thanks the entire staff for their time. Although your professional history may be so amazing that you want to share every piece of it, it’s important that you avoid creating a resume that stretches out too long. By focusing on related positions and highlighting the top moments in your career, you can easily reduce your resume to two or three pages. As you can see, there are a lot of ways to make mistakes when conducting your job search. The good news is that mistakes are avoidable if you are aware of them and make a determined effort to sidestep them at all costs. Dr.A.Jagadeesh Nellore(AP),India Jack O’Brien The comment of Mr. Jagadeesh to send a follow up e-mail is a great point. A job seeker client of mine sent a follow up e-mail thank you after the final interview. This client was hired from among ten interviewees for this position. The employer later informed my candidate that he was the only one of the ten interviewed who did so. The employer stated that this was not the main reason my candidate was hired but… Paul Forel Dr. Nellore, respectfully…with regard to what you said: “Many interviewees get stuck with the question, “Why did you leave your previous employer?” While you may want to say that your previous boss was a jerk, this is not the time or place to mention it. So if you’re asked this question, just say you were looking for new opportunities to broaden your horizon.” “…just say you were looking for new opportunities to broaden your horizon…” What you suggest is a generic response that will be recognized as such. Also, this ‘reply’ does not necessarily reflect the interests of the employer who is always asking, ‘how does this benefit our company?’. Ignoring for the moment each person’s ‘reason for leaving’ is an individual response, I would suggest in the meantime that a candidate/applicant respond that the particular job/opportunity would be enabling that person to execute a particular skill set they have and at which they excel, being sure to include metrics/examples of how this has in the past shown up in the workplace. In this way, the employer is being promised that the applicant’s future job activities will directly benefit the hiring company. A less promising but perhaps acceptable reply, depending on circumstances, would be to suggest the opportunity/job will enable the applicant/candidate to learn/reinforce a strength they will be able to immediately put to use on the job. This would work if it is understood in advance the person coming into this job would be learning as they go, suggesting that something they already have in their kit bag would be empowered/enhanced by the job itself; that what they know already would be an enabler in taking on the new job (and presumably excelling at it). Again, in this case, the company would have a reasonable expectation of benefiting from the candidate’s/applicant’s learning curve and gives the interviewer reason to recommend that person be hired. KNOWLEDGE@WHARTON PARTNERS View All Partners Partner Collaborations Become a Content Partner The Wharton School is committed to sharing its intellectual capital through the school’s online business journal, Knowledge@Wharton. PODCASTS Hear what CEOs, Wharton faculty, and other commentators have to say about the latest business trends, breaking news and market research in their own words. Listen Now STAY INFORMED Get Knowledge@Wharton delivered to your inbox every week. Follow us on: Facebook Twitter  LinkedIn About Knowledge@Wharton Become a Content Partner Privacy Policy Feedback All materials copyright of the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania.

[rob-blog1234]

BANK HOLIDAY WEEKEND TV HOT FILM PICKS!

Check out my guide to the top films on TV this Bank Holiday weekend and the best of the rest. Enjoy!

LATE FRIDAY 26th MAY

HOT PICK!

TCM @ 2100      The Hurt Locker (2008) *****

The Hurt Locker is the multiple award winning war drama from Director Kathryn Bigelow. Do not be put off under the premise that this is just another war film. It is an intense, compelling and consistently interesting look into human emotions, friendship and very real characters. We follow a team of bomb disposal experts on a rotation in Iraq as they go day by day towards the end of their tour, facing danger on and around every street and corner. The film focuses on their relationships together and the dangerous jobs they do. The visuals are stunning with top-notch cinematography, direction and editing that all add a vein of realism that sucks you right into each scene as if you were there yourself. The suspense is relentless and rarely dips apart from the few moments where the team are on down time at the barracks, but even here the suspense comes in different forms as our leads figure each other out and try to have some kind of normality in a situation that is so abnormal to the majority of us sitting here safe at home far far away from the real dangers of war. There are strong performances from all the cast; particular praise goes to the once relatively unknown Jeremy Renner whose career has begun to bloom after this film. This film is an amazing character study all tied together in an impressive suspense filled cinema experience. It’s definitely worthy of its numerous awards, give it a watch and you’ll soon see why.

Best of the rest:

E4 @ 2100      Limitless (2011) ****

C4 @ 0055      Footloose (1984) ***

SATURDAY 27th MAY

HOT PICKS!

5* @ 1545      The Princess Bride (1987) ****

This clever, quirky and action packed fairy tale adventure is a fantastically balanced fairy tale fantasy, that now 30 years old, still seems fresh and modern. Most importantly the humour and classic romance still work wonders. Excellently scripted, witty and wonderful. The Princess Bride is a perfect choice for a Saturday afternoon.

ITV1 @ 2150       Jaws (1975) *****

The birth of the blockbuster. Spielberg’s suspense filled thriller is packed with shocks and surprises. Such a simple premise executed perfectly. With such iconic music, both kids and adults alike can’t stop themselves humming the tune as they creep up on someone in a swimming pool with their hand on their head like a rudimentary fin. Classic. One of the best. Perfect weekend film fodder.

Syfy @ 0000     The Mist (2007) ****

I’ve always loved Darabont’s treatment of this Stephen King story. I was very impressed by the way it was handled and also the differences and changes to the story - particularly the ending that evokes devastation and shock. Each subsequent viewing I’ve enjoyed but it’s been a long time since I have seen this last. Although this is the full colour original version - if you ever get the chance pick up the Blu Ray with the Black and White Directors Cut. This was how Darabont had intended it to be seen. In fact - if your TV has the option - stick it in Black and White.

Darabont struggled to get picture houses to warm to his B&W vision with their unnecessary fear that B&W alienates and immediately reduces audience numbers.

This film is pretty bleak mainly down to the gut punch of an ending but it’s also due to the exploration of certain themes, humanity, fear, religion… There’s loads. The cast play out their parts wonderfully and as the events of The Mist unfold and people begin to take sides this film takes a dark turn indeed. Marcia Gay Harden as Mrs. Carmody is stand out here. I also loved Toby Jones, in fact I completely forgotten he was in this film.

This is a great horror film and deserves a lot more credit. The end once again ripped out my heart as it always does, no matter how many times I see it - it always gets me.

Best of the rest:

TCM @ 1100        The Dirty Dozen (1967) ****

ITV1 @ 1430        Mission: Impossible (1996) ****

Film4 @ 1505       Napoleon Dynamite (2004) ****

C4 @ 2100           The World's End (2013) ***

W @ 2100             Black Hawk Down (2001) ***

Comedy @ 2200  Starship Troopers (1997) *****

C4 @ 2310            Die Hard 2 (1990) ****

Film4 @ 2325       Insidious (2010) ***

BBC1 @ 0010       Swingers (1996) ***

SUNDAY 28th MAY

HOT PICK!

C4 @ 0215      Blue Ruin (2013) ****

Jeremy Saulnier’s Blue Ruin is a must see! Dwight is a homeless beach bum who lives in a rusty car, taking each day as it comes stealing food from bins. He comes across some news that changes his course in life forever, returning to his home town to carry out an act of vengeance. Dwight is not your typical man on a revenge mission and quite frankly is completely unprepared and unskilled to deal with the situations he puts himself in - blindly moving clumsily from one bad situation to other worse ones. It’s beautiful to look at with some interesting cinematography. A tight and impressive Thriller. This violent story of revenge is suspenseful and moves differently than typical revenge films - with its awesome lead role makes for quality film viewing this weekend.

Best of the rest:

Film4 @ 1455      The Dark Crystal (1982) ***

ITV2 @ 1900        Despicable Me (2010) ***

Horror @ 2100    The Ninth Gate (1999) ***

Gold @ 2300       The Full Monty (1997) ****

Syfy @ 0000         Paranormal Activity (2007) ***

Horror @ 0300    ils (2006) ***

MONDAY 29th MAY

HOT PICKS!

Comedy @ 2200     Starship Troopers (1997) *****

Super satirical, hilarious and ultra-violent - Paul Verhoeven brings us a war-saturated vision of the future, a feast for the eyes and a refreshing idea. It is top class. The Human race is at war with a race of “bugs” intent on wiping out everything in their path. The ongoing commentary and propaganda reports are pitched perfectly and whether you want to zone out to a great action romp or chew on the fatty political caricature of the western world, either way - it never disappoints. MEDIC!!!

Film4 @ 2310     Heat (1995) *****

Michael Mann’s Heat is an exceptional crime thriller starring Al Pacino as Lt. Vincent Hanna who is on the trail of professional criminal Neil McCauley played by Robert De Niro. I see I’ve already grabbed your attention! How can a film with two powerhouse performance actors go wrong? Well this certainly doesn’t disappoint. (and for the record - the less said about Righteous Kill the better.) It’s epically long at 3 hours but it’s full to the brim with such amazing detail into our leading characters it doesn’t feel that long. This is cops and robbers for grown-ups. It’s a great action packed film full of drama and the intricate story lines cut and change with skill. This is a story told extremely well. Heat will always stand tall as one of the most accomplished films of its genre. Got 3 hours to kill? Watch this.

Horror @ 0040     Scanners (1981) ****

Michael Ironside is Revok - the head of an underground group of Scanners set on dominating the world. They have psychic powers that can control minds and even kill. When a doctor finds a Scanner that Revok hasn’t, they attempt to convert him to help them infiltrate and destroy the underground group. This is classic Cronenberg, packed full of gore and violence that still looks impressive today. This is Sci-Fi Horror at its best with detailed themes and quality story that keep this a success even 36 years on.

Best of the rest:

Film4 @ 1445     Rio (2011) ***

C5 @ 1510          The Searchers (1956) ****

Dave @ 1510      Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (1969) ****

ITV2 @ 1740       The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (2001) *****

Horror @ 0245   Amer (2009) ***

[accio-ambition]

I know, I know, I broke the rules, but aren't rules meant to be broken on occasion?

Four million thanks to @captainswanbigbang, @sotheylived, @shipsxahoy, and @queen-icicle-fandom for supporting and even encouraging the feels in these last couple of chapters.

Now have some more angst.

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations

FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset/Manip

Chapter Twenty

Emma Swan has endured some long nights in her life. The cold ones where her shivers were the only way to keep her warm at night. The empty ones where she sat awake, eyes wide and stomach growling. The lonely ones where the closest thing to human interaction – to a friend – was the car that served as her bed. Even the single night she sat in a jail cell, ankle cuffed to a bed while contractions wracked her body.

Those were nothing compared to this one.

Not only is Killian lying in a bed, lifeless and pale, so far away from the vibrant, innuendo-ready man that he is normally, but Liam is gone.

And his little brother – the light of his world, the only blood to ever care for him – doesn’t know.

The tears roll down Emma’s cheeks almost nonstop.

The nurses work around her, like she’s another machine working to keep Killian alive at the side of his bed. And, in a way, she thinks, she is. Without Liam, he needs a reason to fight, to come back.

To fight and come back to her.

When she first came into his hospital room, about four hours after initially arriving, it was jarring. Killian was breathing on his own, thank god, but the sheer number of wires and tubes leaking into his body was breathtaking. And his arm: his left arm stopped short of his wrist.

“Be careful of his left side,” the nurse advised her. “It got the brunt of the wreck. It’s going to be tender for a while.”

Emma nodded wordlessly, the image before her choking back any sort of verbal response.

“He’s going to be fine, Ms. Swan,” the nurse said quietly. “He’s a fighter, but he probably won’t wake up for 12 hours at the least. He can hear you, though.” Gently, she pressed Emma into the room. “Talk to him. It’ll help his progress.”

A scratchy “thank you” was all Emma could say. The nurse nodded and headed back to the nurses’ station, leaving her all alone with her hurting, healing pirate.

The nurse was the first of many to tell her to talk to Killian. They said so every time they came in to check his vitals, but it feels wrong. She wouldn’t be talking to him – talking to him involved banter, a back-and-forth, god even his incessant flirting. No, she’d be talking at him.

So she does the next best thing: she scales her own walls to cross over his while they are down. Her hand slips into his where it’s lying on the bed. It’s cold and there’s an IV in the way. But she doesn’t let go. Not even to itch her nose. Her hand stays in his because it is the one reassurance she can give him.

During the night, when she finds herself uncomfortable or her back aching, all she does is glances up at Killian’s face. It’s peaceful, laugh lines evident and eyes flitting behind the lids. If not for the slight bruises forming and marks on his cheeks, she could be sitting next to him on his bed, waiting for him to wake up and partake in round two of three of mind-blowing sex. Maybe she’d even been able to persuade Killian into torturing Liam with theatricalities through the thin bedroom walls.

Then she remembers the news that’s waiting to be told when he awakes and Emma reevaluates her circumstances.

At some point, she miraculously falls unconscious, her head pillowed on her elbow resting on the bed. She doesn’t hear the nurses come in periodically or the hum of the machines. The only reason she knows she ever fell asleep is the sensation of pressure squeezing her hand.

Slowly uncurling from her hunched position, Emma squints. The sun peeks through the blinds, far brighter than it should be. There’s a kink in her neck and her back and – well, she’s going to pay for her sleeping arrangements all day.

But then the pressure grabs her attention again. Looking down at her hand, she begins to piece together the meaning. Her eyes follow the lines of his body – from his wrist, up his arm, across the scratches that marred his face to the hazy blue of his eyes.

Killian’s awake, and the first thing he sees is her, puffy eyes, rat's nest hair, and all.

She doesn’t think she’s ever been this happy and sad in her life.

“Swan, darling,” he says, his voice scratchy and low. “What are you doing here?”

Ten minutes ago, Emma would’ve said she was fine. She’s been through hell and worse in her eyes. But the moment Killian asks his question, the tears start anew. Without saying anything, he can read Liam’s death in her eyes and he shakes his head minutely. He squeezes his hand and hers by default.

“No.” It’s desperate, but not begging. He sighs in distress, turning so his eyes stare up at the ceiling instead of at her.  “I was with him,” he says quietly, eyes closing. “The storm was too much and he was getting cold, so he and I hung on to each other to keep warm.”

Biting her lip is the best she can do to keep from breaking. The pain and threat of blood centers her, lets her focus on Killian’s pain. That’s what matters most right now: he’s lost everything.

“We’re survivors, Emma, Liam and I. We get through anything together.”

But that rips her heart to pieces, and the waterworks begin in earnest. “Coast Guard picked you both up at the same time,” she tells him, trying to keep her sobs to a minimum to get the information out. “They had the hardest time prying you two apart, but once they figured out…”

She needs to get the words out. They both know that. Killian will not be able to start grieving properly until he knows without a shadow of a doubt. Emma takes a deep breathe before quietly, solemnly saying, “He’s gone, Killian. Liam died honorably.”

“What?” Killian spits out. “In a crash? In a storm? He survived that, Swan. To be killed as he’d already been beat isn’t honorable.”

Emma shakes her head and squeezes his hand. The motion brings his attention back to her, his eyes shooting to hers. “He died protecting his baby brother, Killian,” she whispers. “He died so that you could live.”

Killian corrects her immediately, a pavlovian response  – “Younger brother.” – and she watches his eyes widen as he realizes that never again will his elder brother tease him.

And that’s when he breaks.

0000

Having had the misfortune of being around Killian when he’s tired, hungry, angry, and just about every other negative emotion on the spectrum, she has an idea of what to expect with grieving Killian.

It’s completely wrong. While she suspected he would rage, he doesn’t: he just sits silently more often than not. He’ll greet her when she comes to visit, engage in small talk because he’s gentleman enough to not leave her hanging, but that’s really it. He doesn’t laugh at her bad jokes. He doesn’t crack a smile. He just...doesn’t.

The only time he seems remotely happier is when she brings Henry along on her visits. It’s like her son can understand where Killian is mentally. They discuss the weather and the basics of Henry’s schooling, but then Jones will fall silent. So Henry fills the air with stories – he brings in the story he has to read for class or the anthology of fairy tales he loves and reads them aloud. Emma can see the tension slowly ease out of Killian’s rigid positioning while her son’s young voice bounces off the walls.

It all comes back, though, when a nurse walks in, or she sneezes, whenever the magic of the moment is broken. And it breaks her.

She knows that he’s strong – hell, he fought back death for a couple more decades at least in his weakened state – and she knows that he’ll recover both physically and mentally eventually, but his emotional state has her worried.

He needs to talk about it, to someone. If not her, than David or one of his crew boys. A therapist even, though she knows he won’t approach or even contemplate that method of healing.

So for now, Emma brings Henry along with her as much as she can. Because at least when her son’s around, Killian seems almost like his old self.

And she knows that their time together is helping Henry heal, too. Emma insisted on being the one to tell him, coming home from the hospital to shower once Killian was stable enough. Belle had taken the seat by his bed, had decided to talk to him because, as it turns out, she and Liam were together. They were supposed to go camping that weekend, and they were going to tell everyone officially once they returned. They were going to pick out a Christmas tree for Belle’s apartment, have the holiday dinner together. He was going to meet her father.

But some stories get cut short.

(It’ll do her good, Emma reasons. She gets to tell Killian about a different side of his brother. It’ll help both of them cope somewhat healthily. Hopefully.)

Henry’s still in his pajamas, staying home from school at her request under David’s eye. When she goes to pick him up, ragged and tired beyond belief, he immediately rises from the couch and hugs her. He has no idea what’s wrong, but he can tell she’s in pain. Her baby boy knows that, right now, she needs to be sure that he’s okay, just like he needed to make sure he was okay when the storm nearly mowed the Roger over.

The favor is returned mere minutes later, after Emma explains the whole ordeal and he’s sobbing into her shoulder on the couch. He’s lost one of his best friends, if the Jones’ spot on their Christmas list was any indication, and she’s sure it hurts more than anything he’s ever experienced. Liam was nothing if not an older brother to all three of them - knocking Killian into shape for the majority of his life, teasing Emma at every opportunity, and entertaining Henry when no one else had the patience or wherewithal to do so. Together, they’re a little quartet that’s lost their leader.

And they’ll get through it, eventually.

Together.

[accio-ambition]

We're going to subtitle this chapter "The One Where You Get a Hint of Everyone's Romantic Relationships, but Not Nearly Enough to Whet Your Need."

Thank you, as always, to you, my reading, ship-obsessed friends, as well as to @shipsxahoy, @queen-icicle-fandom, @sotheylived, and @captainswanbigbang for doing their things for this story. 17/10 would work with them again.

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations

FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset/Manip

Chapter Fifteen

They’ve found Liam. Emma nearly cries of happiness. She’s pretty sure Killian actually does, not that she can blame him.

He’s beaten up, about 13 miles downshore of where the Jewel went down. According to the officer speaking with Killian, he was face up in the sand, clothes torn and stomach bleeding profusely. There’s some worry that he’s severed an artery or ruptured his stomach lining and, for the time being, he’s been transported to the hospital for emergency treatment.

There might be more to the story, but Killian’s already off to his truck, yelling “Swan!” over his shoulder. She follows quickly as she can with all the equipment on her frame and hops into the passenger seat.

“They found him,” he says to no one in particular. His eyes are on the road - a good thing, because he has to be going 20 over the speed limit at least - and he’s laughing in disbelief. “Swan, they found him. He’s going to be okay.”

(She gets that on camera, mentally files it away as a great moment, but fails to remind him that Liam isn’t out of the woods yet.)

They arrive at the hospital in what has to be record time, Jones actually forgetting to turn off the engine in his haste to see his brother. Emma does it for him, putting the keys in her pocket and jogging to catch up with him. She leaves the camera and all her equipment in the truck. She’s gotten his reaction, that’s all Jeff wanted. They can cut to talking heads of the rest of the crew, whatever. She’s not recording this part of the story; she’ll get fired before she subjects Liam and Killian to reliving this.

It’s a couple hours later, as the sun is starting to rise after one of the longest nights of her life, that she gets a call from Belle, Storybrooke’s resident librarian. Emma’s been sitting in the hospital reception area all night, napping in between calming Killian down. He’s off checking with the nurses’ station - again - when the blaring ringtone interrupts the stillness.

“Hi Emma,” she says. “I hope you don’t mind, but Jefferson gave me your number. He called to tell me about Graham first thing this morning.” Emma quirks a brow, but doesn’t say anything as the other woman sniffles. For everything worth her spit, she thought Belle was into Liam, and vice versa. Emma’d found out Belle was the brunette all caught up in Liam’s arms at the wrap party in November, and if that wasn’t a sign, then what were they doing? Then Belle sighs and adds, “He was my neighbor.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Belle,” she apologizes. Killian returns from the nurses’ station, takes a seat next to her for a moment before jolting up and beginning his pacing anew. “What can I do for you? I’m a bit busy at the moment.”

“That’s why I’m calling. I’m down at the Coast Guard station.”

“Why?” The question leaves her mouth unbidden before Emma could stop it. And, yeah, it comes off a bit rude and terse, but she’s in a hospital waiting to hear about how her close friend is doing after a shipwreck.

The other end of the line is silent for a moment before Belle sighs. “Jefferson told me about the wreck and I wanted to make everyone else was okay.”

A little taken aback by the reasoning, Emma nods. “Yeah. Well, no. August and Mulan are fine, David I think is at home now, Liam’s in the hospital, and the Guard are still looking for Arthur.”

“Oh.” Quiet hangs between the two of them, as if Belle is trying to figure out what she should say. “Actually, I overheard them saying they were going to keep looking for Arthur until around noon and then call it.” She sniffs again, her voice staying surprisingly even. “I’m sorry, I thought they’d called Killian.”

“They might have, but he’s a bit preoccupied now.” The man in question is running his hands through his hair, over and over again and if Emma doesn’t stop him, she’s going to start doing it herself. She has to berate herself: while an excellent distraction technique, making out with anybody while their brother is in the hospital is probably not, how would he say it, good form. “Do you have David’s number?” she asks.

“No.”

“Would you mind calling Jefferson and either asking him for David’s number or asking Jeff to get out in the field himself? Actually, ask Jeff,” she corrects herself. In all the melee, she’d forgotten that David was at sea for a short period as well. He’d been fine, in no worse shape than August or Mulan, but Emma’s sure Mary Margaret wouldn’t be letting her husband out of her sight for a while. “This is something that needs to be documented.”

“Oh, okay,” Belle replies, a little stunned at the professionalism in Emma’s request. “Um, would you mind calling me if anything happens with Liam?”

And despite everything going on around her, Emma smiles softly. She knew Liam had to be a part of the reason Belle called her. “Of course. I’ll send you a text as soon as I know something,” she offers. “Thank you, Belle. And I really am sorry about Graham.”

“He’s left a wonderful legacy behind,” she says, her voice cracking. “I’ll talk to you soon, Emma.”

The line goes dead, Emma shoving her phone back in her jacket pocket before standing from her seat. Her joints pop in protest from being unused for so long. She moves directly in the path of Killian’s pacing, nearly getting bowled over in the process. Her hands come up to his shoulders, both to steady herself and stop his movements.

“What did the nurses say?” she asks, rubbing along his upper arms.

“The bleeding’s stopped for the most part,” Killian reports back. “They sewed him back together. He’s still out, he’s going to have a nasty scar.”

“But he’s going to be okay.” She doesn’t ask, because she knows it’s true. At least she hopes it’s true. But it sounds like the professionals are optimistic about the whole thing. “So what are you worried about?”

Killian shrugs, tension leaving his body and he begins to lean into her. Emma leads them both to chairs again, where he finally sits for more than two seconds.

“He’s my brother, love,” he says simply. “He’s all I’ve got.”

Tilting her head to the side, Emma then leans her head onto his shoulder, her arm threading through his in hopes that maybe some of her strength will soak through his skin. “And you’re all he’s got. He’s going to come back, Killian. Liam’s never going to leave you.”

0000

It’s a somber week in Storybrooke. It’s the end of June, school’s out, the sun is shining, but it feels as though it’s been nothing but storm clouds and rain for years. In a town as small as it is, everyone knows everyone. It was something Emma thought she would have a hard time adjusting to after living in huge cities for the past decade, but she didn’t. Whether it was because of the smaller population or the fact that she already had familiar faces waiting for her, she couldn’t say. But it was nice, being able to walk into the grocery store and greet whomever she met while reaching for milk.

That being said, she is unprepared for the amount of sorrow that walks the streets of her and Henry’s new hometown in the wake of the wreck. Graham and Arthur are both laid to rest - one physically and the other metaphorically - that second week of July, after failed attempts to find one and the coroner's decision on the other. The entire town shows up for both, save for Liam, who’s still recovering in the hospital, and the nurses who care for him. The only bright spot is that he’s doing well, and should be sent home by the end of the weekend.

Despite the doctors’ good tidings, Killian spends nearly every waking - and frankly, unconscious as well - moment at his brother’s side. Emma visits the two of them, sometimes bringing Henry along in the afternoons, to keep their spirits up. She knows that Belle drops by every couple of days, but what she and Liam do is a mystery to both her and Killian.

(Emma’s got some good ideas, though.)

The day Liam comes home, hopped up on meds but otherwise fully functioning and with a cool new scar to boot, Killian all but throws a party.

“He needs to rest, Killian,” Emma tries to gently remind him. “He’s been in the hospital for a week. Two weeks, actually. The doctors thought his wound was infected this time last week.”

But Jones won’t hear of it. “He’s been resting for two weeks, Swan, he’s bored,” he says. “We won’t party too hard. It’s just the lads.”

“Have you been to a get together with just you boys? It’s like a Vegas bachelor party on St. Patrick’s Day.”

He grins at her, his knuckles drumming out a rhythm on the nurse’s desk. “How would you know, love?” he counters. “Last I knew, you’d never been to one.”

“I’ve talked to Robin and August,” she quips easily. “I’m not making this shit up, and you know it.”

Leaning in, he whispers to her, “We’re just going to watch a football match. Nothing too rowdy, I promise.” And then he winks at her. “And if something goes awry, we’ll call up nurses Belle and Swan to come heal us.”

Emma groans and slaps him across the back of the head. “If you call me that, I’m going to leave you all to suffer.”

“What? Nurse Swan?” he teases her. He looks off into the distance, a fond smile on his face. “I don’t know, love, you’d look pretty good in a nurse’s uniform.”

She punches him in the shoulder this time and spins on her heels. She’ll text Liam that his brother was being a dick and make her apologies for not seeing him home later.

0000

A few days and what sounds like a well-deserved hangover later, Jefferson calls all of them over - both Jones brothers, David, and Emma - and convenes a meeting to discuss how things - show wise and business wise - will proceed from here on out.

“It’s really up to however things go for the JoBros Co.,” Jefferson explains, directing his attention toward the brothers. “Of course, the three of us are at the beck and call of your business. I know it hasn’t been long, but have you had time to discuss what the plan is now that you’ve only got the Jolly Roger?”

Liam and Jones share a look, one that says ‘we have but we’re not entirely set on it and, because of that, we don’t necessarily want to share it with you nosy people.’ But Liam sighs and regards Jefferson.

“We’re going to look into getting another trawler,” he says. “Thankfully, we were already doing that before the Jewel went down. But in the meantime, we’re just going to switch in some of my crew for that of the Roger’s every couple of days. Encourage everybody to take some extra vacation time before season’s end and then hopefully have a second ship by the start of the next.” Looking to his younger brother for agreement, Liam nods. “Is that going to work for you guys?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jefferson says. “Emma, you’ll still be lead camera since you know the ship, but I suppose you and David can coordinate something together. Figure it out.”

“Of course,” David answers, winking at her. “You can spend a couple days with Henry before school starts back up.”

(Not that she really has a choice on the matter, but that’s the point that sells her. Her son’s going off to middle school come September, so this might be the last summer where he’ll want to soar down the slip and slide or be seen at the public pool together without being an embarrassed almost teenager.)

Still, though, there’s something that doesn’t sit right with her about this plan. It’s something she caught in the look between brothers, a sympathetic tilt to the younger’s head to the elder’s verbalized plan.

“Are you sure this is good with you guys?” she asks. “You’re both captains, you’re both used to being in charge of your own crew and ship.”

Liam shrugs. “The Roger is still Killian’s ship,” he explains. “Should he want a break, I’ll be happy to take over for a bit. But I should think it’s about time my little brother takes the reins of the family business.”

From across the table, Emma hears Killian grumble “younger brother” under his breath, but his countenance seems overall pleased, even if Liam, under the surface, doesn’t seem too thrilled at the idea of his baby brother taking charge.

“So it’s settled then.” Jefferson claps his hands, always enthusiastic, and stands from his seat. “Emma, I’ll ask that you take the first shift next time these boys decide to head out just so Mary Margaret doesn’t murder me in my sleep for keeping her husband from healing.”

“I’m not even hurt,” David groans, rubbing his hand against his forehead. “Liam was the one in the hospital for ruptured stomach or whatever.”

“Nevertheless, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of a worried woman and her ‘ailing’ husband.” Jefferson adds the air quotes and everything, making Emma and the Joneses burst into laughter. David blushes out of embarrassment, and tries to hide his face in the table.

(To be honest, it only makes Emma laugh harder.)

[accio-ambition]

I am posting this from the great beyond. And by that I mean my internet is down today, so this is actually being posted in queue and I hope tumblr doesn’t mess that up. That being said, the story on FFnet and AO3 won’t be updated until I get my internet back on Saturday, so you can either wait or continue or come up with a third option. It’s up to you. I will tell you that Flustered Emma and Eloquent Killian show up in this chapter. And also boats - ships.

As always, a humongous thank you to @sotheylived, @shipsxahoy​, @queen-icicle-fandom, and @captainswanbigbang for supporting and getting this project through at some point in time in the past…god, seven months? Is that right? Math is not my strong suit.

Summary: Bouncing around with her son for the majority of her life, Emma Swan has told herself she’s happy in the city. It’s where the most camera operating jobs are, and that’s how she makes her money. But when an old friend calls her and asks for her help on a new project in small town Maine, Emma finds herself in a place she’s never been with people she doesn’t know filming a profession she knows nothing about. But when the captain of the ship she’s filming begins taking a keen interest in her and her life, she finds herself wondering whether she might just catch something other than fish. Deadliest Catch AU Rating: M Content warning: Character death, some violent situations

FFnet/Ao3/Cover/Snapshots/Gifset

Chapter Ten

The first time the cold, cold water sloshes over her, it’s bracing to say the least. She thought she’d pulled the strings of her boots tight enough and had enough layers on to at least stall the water’s path to her skin, but she was dead wrong. From the moment the first drop hit her cheek bone, it stole the breath from her lungs.

They’ve been lucky enough to avoid any inclement weather since filming started. But not today. No, the local meteorologists were predicting one of the most forceful storms of the season and they weren’t kidding. She’s only calm because everyone else is. If something were wrong, Robin would be on his phone texting Regina or Whale would be drinking the schnapps he hides in the kitchen.

(She won’t lie to herself, she’s impressed she knows anybody well enough to know their panicked tells. She knows that Jones wouldn’t be humming like she can hear him doing through Scarlet’s radio and she knows that Scarlet would be cursing a storm bigger than the one knocking them around right now.

Almost like they’re her friends.)

But they go about business as usual, and she follows their lead. It’s a little more slippery and the lighting is a bitch to deal with, but the footage she’s capturing is actually pretty good. It’ll make for a good episode. She’ll just need to talk with Jeff about the right angle, how to fit it into the bigger season picture.

A wave crashes over the side of the ship again, drenching Emma and the camera once more, and she can’t suppress the shiver that wracked her body.

“Go talk to Jones, Emma!” Robin shouts. “Warm up and dry off a bit, then come back out!”

Right now in her mind, she’s never met a smarter man than Robin Locksley. Anywhere out of this wet and cold weather sounds better. “Don’t do anything interesting while I’m gone!” she yells back.

“If we do, we’ll be sure to face the camera, eh?” he says with a smile.

She carefully heads up to the captain’s roost, gripping tightly to the railing and shaking her head as she goes. Killian’s got a single window open next to him when she walks in to better hear if any emergency arises on deck, rain spitting through the opening and onto his arm.

“Well, well, well, Swan,” he greets her, sliding the window closed a bit to lessen the noise between them. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’m wet,” she says simply, shaking her arms and letting the raindrops fling off her sleeves and on to the equipment around her.

“Jumping right into the action, then,” Jones chuckles boastfully. “I’m always agreeable.”

She rolls eyes. “The waves have been targeting me specifically.”

“Don’t feel bad, love,” he tells her, focusing back on the sea before them. “Everybody stumbles during their first time.”

“I’ve been doing this for weeks now. You know that.”

“Who said I was referring to being on my ship?” he says with an eyebrow wiggle.

She scoffs. “God, Killian, the innuendos need to wind down.”

He jumps a little bit, then looks her over. “Do they make you uncomfortable?” he asks, his voice gentle and so quiet, it takes Emma a moment to actually comprehend what he’s said over the sound of crashing waves coming in from the open window.

“A little bit,” she admits. “It’s more the frequency than anything else.”

He pauses to think about it, all the while pressing this button or shifting the wheel that way to keep them on course. “Then I’ll endeavor to make them less frequent.”

Raising her brow, Emma lets out a surprised, “Really?”

He surprises her further by holding up a single finger and a smirk. “On one condition.”

She sighs. “Of course there’s a condition.”

“It’s nothing to arduous,” he assures her, glancing her direction and licking the corner of his lip.

“What is it?”

A swell builds in front of them, taking his attention away from her to safely navigating them deeper into the water. A heated tension sizzles between them as Emma waits for his request.

When Jones is finally satisfied with their course, he looks her straight in the eye. “Call me by my name a little more.”

“Huh?” Honestly, the words that keep coming out of his mouth keep leaving her more and more speechless. “What, have I been calling you a pirate to your face? A scoundrel? A nincompoop?”

He laughs heartily, his hand smacking up against his chest. “Not aloud, but it’s nice to know what you truly think of me, Swan,” he says once he calms down. “I only mean my name. My given name.”

This time, both of Emma’s brows shoot up to her hairline. Slowly, she gets as close as she can to him without interfering with her camera equipment or his captaining. “You mean to tell me that if I call you Killian more, you’ll tone the innuendoes down?” she repeats skeptically.

“Not tone them down, necessarily,” Jones amends, “but I’ll make them less.”

“Seems like a fair deal.” She sticks out her hand to shake on it. He takes her hand, raises it to his lips, and presses them to the knuckles of her fingers.

“An accord, then,” Jones - Killian - murmurs against her skin.

Emma blushes but ducks her face in an attempt to hide it, glancing out the front window. “I wish you’d keep both hands on the wheel,” she says, effectively changing the subject and calming the rise of red on her cheeks. “We are in the middle of a storm.”

“Ah, but it’s clearing up.” He points out the front window, toward a sliver of bright sky in the distance. “We’re moving out of it. By the time we turn back, it’ll have dissipated.”

Shaking her head, Emma readjusts the camera so the frame flatters Jones better before asking, “You seem to really know the ocean’s ways. How come?”

He glances at her, spots the camera’s lens pointed at him, and gives her a slight look to condemn her for using their casual conversation to facilitate filming. But he sighs and answers anyways. “When you’ve been around the sea as often and as long as I have, she becomes her own person,” he explains, staring forward as the waves begin to calm, just as he predicted. “Much like I can tell when Liam hasn’t slept well or when Victor drank too much the night before, there are signs. In the sky, in the crashing waves, sometimes even the grass beneath my window. The sea has her own personality. Now, for instance,” Killian says, gesturing out the side window, “I can feel the swells getting smaller, see the sunlight ahead, the wind’s less fierce.” He sighs reluctantly. “She was angry earlier, but now she’s vented her feelings and she’s calming back down.”

With the small space now quiet - Jones is nothing if not eloquent - Emma takes a moment to admire his profile as he gazes out at the ocean. Strong lines, light scruff, masculine and somehow still giving off a bit of a boyish fear.

(Like she’s hit a nerve or something.)

“Is that good enough for you, lass?” His question breaks her concentration.

“Me? Yeah, no, that was great.” Somehow, his words have touched her. It’s a different side of him, one she’s only seen one other time. When he was showing her and Henry around the Jolly Roger that afternoon, he had the same sort of – reverence, is the word she comes up with, but isn’t at all sure that’s what she means.

“Good.” Her feelings must show on her face and Emma quickly tries to quell them, for he asks, “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I just.” She scrunches her nose and bites at her bottom lip. “Nothing,” she answers. After another moment of looking at him, trying in vain to figure out what’s going on in her brain, she jerks her head back to the deck below. “I should get back out there.”

He nods in understanding. “We’ll be back to shore shortly, Swan. No need to worry about orphaning your lad today.”

Emma groans, already halfway out of the captain’s roost. “I wasn’t worrying about ever orphaning Henry, but now that you’ve put that thought in my mind, it’s the only thing I can think about.” She glares at him and his shit-eating grin over her shoulder. “Dick.”

“What a way to talk to your captain,” Jones laughs.

0000

The weeks continue to fly by and before Emma knows it, Henry’s back in school and the weather is turning cold. Trawling season extends until late December in some parts of the state - and even later in some states - but the Jones brothers decide to call it quits shortly after Halloween. Between what they caught in those couple of months and the commission they’ll get from channel executives, Liam, Killian, and everyone in their employ will be safely set until next year.

As the end of October rolls about, Emma spends her birthday quietly, finishing up the last edits of B roll to send to HQ. Henry surprises her with a cake he and Mary Margaret made the night before, and Ruby gifts her with free coffee and a box of bearclaws Granny made especially for her. It’s not much, but it’s certainly better than birthdays she’s had in the past.

She’s also – secretly, of course – checking for new jobs. Without the guarantee of a second season, Emma’s got to be able to make money somehow. She’s looking locally because she loves this house, now that it’s had time to be lived in and gather the typical Swan clutter and mess, and she likes this town and the people in it. But when nothing shows up within reasonable driving distance, she’s forced to look in Boston and Portland and points further away from home.

(Because that’s what Storybrooke is now. Home. The first one she’s actually felt that way about in a long, long time.)

In mid-November, after what’s probably the third snow of the year, Jefferson texts them all with a premiere date – a Tuesday in mid-January, not a bad slot, but not a good one either. It’s honestly what she expected for such a new show’s first season – and information for a belated wrap party.

“Are these wraps normal?” Killian asks her one evening during a crew dinner. He’s seated between her and Graham, a deckhand on the Jewel, and across from Regina, who’s cutting Roland’s piece of lasagna into smaller squares. She’s got a bit of a belly now, the news of her pregnancy official shared with both ships’ crews at the beginning of dinner. Seeing this woman – her friend, or so Emma considers them – in the middle of her pregnancy takes Emma back to the time when she was pregnant with Henry. The situations were nearly opposite ends of the spectrum, but there were times when Emma was so excited and happy to welcome her son into her life.

Responding to Killian’s question, Emma shrugs and shoves a bite of salad into her mouth. “It really depends,” she says around lettuce, then swallows. “I think it’s bigger for scripted shows and movies. But Jeff promised me open bar, so I’m not gonna say no to a night of free booze.”

Killian guffaws, his laughter frightening people at the other end of tonight’s table. “A woman after my own heart, Swan.”

(She tries to ignore the blush that rises on her cheeks at his words, but at the look Liam gives her from further down the table, she knows she doesn’t exactly get away unnoticed.)

Emma shrugs again and says, “It’s all I asked for for my birthday, free booze. But Henry’s not exactly allowed to buy it and he’s the only one I told anyways.”

Wiping his mouth with a napkin – who the fuck is this guy, she thinks, using an actual napkin to dab at his mouth like he’s a fucking earl – Killian asks, “I’ll be happy to oblige. When’s the day?”

“October 28th.” His response is a dropped jaw. Emma’s eyes widen and she looks up and down the table, then back to Jones. “What?”

“That was three weeks ago,” he says simply. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

For the third time, Emma shrugs. “We were all focused on ending the season on a good note. Besides, my birthday’s never been an event. Even when I was a kid.” She looks back at her plate, still half full, but she realizes she’s lost her appetite with this conversation. Setting her fork down, Emma adds, “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” If it’s possible, Killian’s jaw drops further. He shakes his head and then stands up, surprising both her and Graham on his other side. Clinking his knife against his glass, he calls for everyone’s attention. Everyone quiets down, focusing on the Jolly Roger’s captain.

“While I’m overjoyed to have everyone together for yet another crew dinner, there has been an oversight on every one of our’s part,” he announces. Glancing down at Emma, he sends her a wink. “Three weeks ago, on October 28th, we missed the annual celebration of our own Emma Swan’s birth. And so, to reconcile ourselves, I propose we give Swan a proper Storybrooke birthday, even if it’s a fortnight late.”

Robin stands up, his glass in hand and his lips wide in a smile. “Seconded,” he declares. To her, he says, “Best protect your ears, Emma. Don’t want them bleeding all over your sheets.”

And with that, every single person at the table starts their most horrible, most off-key rendition of happy birthday. Arthur, another deckhand on the Jewel, is going falsetto; August, the Jewel’s engineer, is singing in a different language altogether; and Mulan, Liam’s second-in-command, is singing the song backwards. By the end, Henry’s at her side, hugging her tight, and Emma’s in tears from laughter and trying to get oxygen back into her lungs.

Killian conducts the whole thing and brings it to a close after a prolonged final note before thanking everyone and taking his seat again. Emma leans her forehead to his shoulder, more for support in trying to get her breath than anything else.

“I know it wasn’t on the day itself, but it’s the best we could do at the current time,” he tells her.

“No, it’s perfect,” she says, still laughing. “Thank you, Killian. It’s the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

He rests his head atop hers. “You’re more than welcome, Swan,” he murmurs. “Happy birthday.”