#cssb

[jehlumjk]

Centre for Structural Systems Biology CSSB Germany International Scholarships 2024

Centre for Structural Systems Biology CSSB Germany International Scholarships 2024. PhD Positions in Molecular/Cellular/Structural Infection Biology   Designation   PhD Positions (4) in Molecular/Cellular/Structural Infection Biology   Research Area   • Molecular Infection Biology   • Structural Biology   • Bioinformatics   • Computational Modelling   • Advanced Imaging…

[oriental-sea-witch]

"The Invasion"

At the start of the Iraq war, my father was an old man by Marine standards. An aging Gunnery Sergeant at the end of his 20 year career who "celebrated" his 38th birthday in the combat zone during his six month deployment. The lead-up to the war had been shrouded in secrecy, my father being one of the select few NCO's briefed on the upcoming invasion as early as April of 2002. On March 20th, 2003, he and the other men of CSSB-12 of the 1st Marine Expeditionary Force out of Camp Pendleton, California, were amongst the first American servicemen to cross from Kuwait into Iraq as the US launched a lightning campaign to decapitate the Ba'athist regime. The invasion moved with such speed and ferocity that my father was awake for three days straight at the start of the war.

My father would first encounter enemy fire during the Battle of Nasiriyah. He vividly remembers driving passed the burnt, mangled remains of the Marine AAV destroyed in the now infamous friendly-fire incident by USAF A-10's. He crossed paths with another Marine detachment, MWSS-372, exiting the city, whom he described as "all shot to hell." It was here where the highly-mobile CSSB-12 would link up with LAV's and additional infantry as they began the grueling, weeks-long journey out of Nasariyah through Al-Shatrah, An-Nu'mānīyah, and Al-Kut as their unit pushed further into Iraq, encountering armed resistance from both the Iraqi Army and Fedayeen Saddam units along the way. Luckily, most Iraqi units they encountered were heavily demoralized, and wisely chose to surrender without a fight.

It was at Al-Shatrah where my father would see intense combat and lead Marines under fire when a mix of Fedayeen and civilian irregulars ambushed them at close-range, close enough where his M9 service pistol was deployed, and several magazines emptied. My father doesn't like to go into detail, but he does say this: "They had every chance to give up, but they didn't. Those guys that tried to whack us? None of them are still breathing." It took him over 18 years to tell me the story behind his combat action ribbon.

[andpigandpanda]

CSSB for lunch.

[in-sightpublishing]

Canadian Global Alignment With Sustainability Standards

Author(s): Scott Douglas Jacobsen Publication (Outlet/Website): The Good Men Project Publication Date (yyyy/mm/dd): 2025/02/11 Bruce Marchand is the Interim Chair of the Canadian Sustainability Standards Board (CSSB), leading the organization in advancing sustainability reporting aligned with international standards. Under his guidance, the CSSB launched the first Canadian Sustainability…

[thetempleofreading]

Hidden Vitamin B1 Deficiencies: How Common Drugs May Be Starving Your Brain

"However, sometimes, B1 deficiency may develop in the brain and other vital organs as a side effect of some drugs. This can happen despite normal B1 levels in the blood, which often makes such deficiencies go undetected before it’s too late." #thiamine #thiaminedeficiency #thiaminetransporters #drugeffects

[knowledgekartupsc]

SGPGI Lucknow Recruitment 2024 Notification (Out) 1426 Group B, C Nursing officer Vacancy

SGPGI Notification 2024 PDF download link Sanjay Gandhi Post Graduate Institute, Lucknow is issuing a latest notice In which applications are invited for the posts of Stenographer,Senior Administrative Assistant, Technician (Radiology), Medical Lab Technologist, Technical Assistant (Neuro-Otology), Sanitary Inspector, Store Keeper and other various post. We will know all the information about these posts like selection process, syllabus for exam pattern, education qualification, limit, last date etc. in the paragraph below. SGPGI Lucknow Recruitment 2024

The Sanjay Gandhi Postgraduate Institute of Medical Sciences (SGPGI) in Lucknow has recently released a notification for the recruitment of various Group B and C positions, including Nursing Officers, in the year 2024. This recruitment drive presents a lucrative opportunity for individuals looking to pursue a career in the medical field. Let's delve deeper into the details of this notification.

Overview of the Notification

The SGPGI Lucknow Recruitment 2024 has announced a total of 1426 vacancies across different categories. These vacancies are primarily for Group B and C positions, with Nursing Officer vacancies being a significant part of the recruitment drive.

SGPGI Lucknow Notification 2024 PDF Various post details

Short notice has been issued by Sanjay Gandhi Post Graduation Medical Institute Lucknow which contains details of many posts. The main post among these is Junior Engineer (Telecom), Receptionist, O.T Assistant, Technician (Radiotherapy), Junior Physiotherapist, Nuclear Medicine Technologist & CSSB Assistant that online applications for all these posts will start soon. The process of reservation on all these posts will be under the control of Uttar Pradesh government. Posts can be increased or decreased

SGPGI Lucknow Recruitment 2024 Apply Online Date and Link

SGPGI Age Limit

SGPGI Nursing Officer Salary

SGPGI Lucknow Education Qualification

SGPGI Bharti 2024 Selection Process

Application fees

How to Apply SGPGI Lucknow Recruitment 2024

[postsofbabel]

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[hookedonapirate]

To Play the Game (and win your heart)

Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.

Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.

The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.

Artwork by: @distant-rose

Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.

Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .

Author’s Notes: There's two more chapters after this, and I'm so sad this story is coming to end soon but I've had so much fun reading all of your reviews. Because someone had mentioned this, I wanted to clarify that Killian's character is in no way based on Jack in Heartbreakers, in case you've seen the movie and haven't already figured that out, and I love that one of you mentioned it! Killian may be a fool in love, but he's certainly not a hopeless spineless sap, so please don't expect Emma to be let off scot-free - but you will see how things turn out very soon. Here we go!

Thank you @captainswanbigbang and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.

A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is. And thank you @wellhellotragic​ for pointing out a few dumb mistakes as well.

Thank you @distant-rose for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.

Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.

There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9

Also available on: AO3 FFnet

Artwork by @distant-rose

Ch 1 Art Ch 3 Art Ch 4 Art Ch 7 Art Ch 8 Art

Chapter 10: Final Round

~Rule #10: Keep your eyes on the finish line. You're about to rip the rug from underneath his feet, flip his world upside down and destroy everything he’s worked so hard for, so whatever you do, don’t let anything or anyone get in your way, no matter what. Put on the show of your life, but your heart must remain of steel when you rip his out and let it crumble in between your fingers.~

 The early morning light illuminates softly through the bedroom windows, creating a warm glow in the room. Killian is lying on his stomach as he starts to stir in the tangled blankets and sheets, the delicious aroma of coffee intriguing his senses. Turning his head away from the intrusive light, he instinctively reaches out towards the other side of the bed, but instead of finding his wife, he finds her side empty. Gradually opening his groggy eyes, he lifts his head to confirm his Swan is not there.

 Mustering the energy from his tired bones, he slowly makes his way out of bed, pulls on a pair of boxers and goes in search of her.

 He once again finds Emma sitting out on the terrace, this time in a light blue nighty, staring out over the ocean and nursing a coffee. He doesn't blame her though. The sound of the waves and seagulls are soothing, and the gentle breeze feels quite perfect.

 Killian grins at the sight and comes up behind her, wrapping her up in his embrace. “Aren't I the one who's supposed to be the early riser?” he teases playfully.

 Emma shudders in his hold, turning her head and offering a smile smile. “I just woke up and couldn't fall back to sleep.”

 “How come, darling? What's on your mind?”

 Emma shrugs softly. “I just realized last night how little we really know about each other.” She turns around in his arms, looking up at him. “I mean, aren't married couples supposed to know every little thing, like the tattoos they have and what the other likes in bed? We've never even seen each other naked until last night.”

 Killian’s features fall in disappointment. Was he not adequate enough for her? He thought she’d enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he had, but maybe he was mistaken. “Was I… did I do something wrong?” he asks, worry lacing his tone.

 Emma shakes her head, a smirk curving her lips. “No, of course not. You were... incredible.”

 Killian sighs in relief, his expression relaxing a bit. “Then what's the problem, sweetheart?” he asks softly. “Not all couples have sex before marriage.”

 “I know… but those people normally know everything else about their partner. And we didn’t. We still don't.”

 “Emma, we have from now until the end of time to get to know each other,” he points out in a hopeful tone. “Are you regretting getting married too soon?”

 Emma shakes her head, pursing her lips in contemplation, her eyes full of conflict. “No, I'm not, I just... there are some things I need to tell you.”

 Killian places the pad of his index finger on her lips to stop her from saying anything more. “It can wait. Our honeymoon is supposed to be relaxing, not stressful,” he reminds her.

 Emma looks like she still wants to tell him something, but right now he has other ideas as he takes the coffee cup from her hand and places it on the outdoor table.

 “I want my wife to feel pampered and loved appropriately, not worried or discouraged.” Before she can respond, Killian is running his hands down her exquisite curves, following the trail down her clothed body with his lips. She shows him no resistance and is already responding with a soft moan, her body molding into his touches.

 He kneels down in front of his sweet goddess, lifting her leg over his shoulder. She braces back against the railing as he sneaks his head underneath her gown and uses his mouth and fingers on her, caressing her folds and enjoying her sweetness on his tongue. Hearing her soft curses above him, he eagerly explores his wife, devouring her in his mouth and pumping his fingers into her heat. It's not long before he’s pulling her into the abyss, her walls fluttering around his tongue as she offers all of her essence to him, crying out into the open, morning air.

 Licking his lips, he picks her up and carries her back to bed where they display their affections with gentle caresses, satisfying strokes and sweet kisses. They explore every inch of skin, every line and every curve, memorizing and getting to know each other’s body more thoroughly. They stay in bed long into the late afternoon until they finally remove themselves to shower and make breakfast together.

 $*$*$

 Emma wants to stay on the island with Killian forever, but alas, real life forces them to go back. After getting back from their honeymoon very late, Emma drives to work early in the morning, while he visits the driving range.

 She has this foreign feeling blooming inside her. She’s never been this happy before, and can’t say she hates the feeling. There’s just a tiny problem of having to tell Milah to call off the con, though, but she hopes to quickly rectify that.

 She dials Milah’s number during her drive to work and it rings a few times before her sister answers.

 “Hey?” Milah’s words are laced with confusion. Emma really has no reason to call her, because the plan is already set in motion. They never talk to each other between the wedding and the carefully planned affair, so neither will get doubts or mixed feelings, and neither one will be influenced by the other to back out. “Is everything okay?”

 “Yeah…” Emma takes a deep, shaky breath, not sure how to form in words what she wants to tell her sister. “Actually, no, not really,” she confesses, the inside of her stomach twisting with nerves, like it’s filled with snakes.

 “What is it? If you’re worried about how things will go, please don't. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

 “It’s not that,” Emma begins, and she’s feeling conflicted. She knows she has to fess up and tell Milah the truth, but at the same time she doesn’t want to disappoint her sister. She also doesn't want to hurt Killian. It’s a lot like she’s choosing between them, and her loyalty should be leaning towards Milah, but her heart is going off in an entirely different direction. “I’m calling off the con,” Emma blurts out loud, and the silence on the other end of the line is deafening. Emma starts to panic, not knowing exactly how Milah is reacting to this.

 “You wanna what?” Milah questions finally, after an eternity, or so it feels, her tone hinting towards anger and irritation.

 Emma’s heart is hammering so fast, she’s not sure if she can tell her sister how she really feels exactly. “I… I can’t go through with it.”

 Milah emits a strangled noise and Emma has to hold the phone away, her features twisting in confusion. Is Milah really laughing?

 Holding the phone to her ear again, Emma can still hear her laughing for several more seconds before the sound finally dies in Milah’s throat.

 “Oh Emma, that’s a good one. You really had me going for a sec.”

 “No, I’m serious, Mi. I can’t go through with this.”

 “And why not?” Milah’s tone is much more serious, and Emma can tell she is not thrilled by this revelation.

 Chewing on her bottom lip, Emma throws around the idea of telling her the truth because isn’t that the whole point of this conversation—to tell Milah the truth? “Because I’m in love with Killian.”

 Again there is silence, and it’s completely overwhelming. She needs something; any sort of response will do, really, but there’s nothing for what feels like several minutes.

 “Milah?”

 “I cannot believe this. You’re the one who begged me to go along with this. Ever since you saw that damn golfer, you have nothing but insisted that he is the one who will get us to Hawaii.”

 “Milah—”

 “No, let me finish.” Her tone is sharp, full of fire as she continues. “You swore up and down you could do this. You said ‘trust me, sis. I won’t let you down, I promise,’ so I agreed, even though I knew it wasn’t the best decision.”

 “I know, and I’m sorry, but I can’t help the way I feel. Do you really think I wanted this? I mean after everything we’ve done so far, do you think I wanted to let you down? It hurts like hell knowing I did,” Emma admits, her voice cracking with apology. “I really wanna make this up to you, but right now I just need to know you won’t go through with this.”

 Mialah sighs through the phone, and Emma can sense her resolve is weakening. “Fine, I won’t. Your feelings are more important than the con.”

 Emma is flooded with relief, and she takes a deep breath, releasing all of the stress she had felt from thinking about Milah going through with the plan. “Thank you Mi. I really owe you one.”

 “Big time,” Milah agrees with a laugh.

 Emma smiles, knowing that everything will be okay. Or at least she hopes. She still has to tell Killian the truth, as much as it will hurt. She cares for him too much to not tell him. She just hopes she doesn't lose him after she does. “How about I start off with a thank you meal from TooJay’s Deli after I get out of work,” Emma offers, knowing their corned beef and pastrami sandwich is Milah’s favorite.

 “I’ll take it,” Milah accepts rather quickly, her words edged with excitement. “When do you think you’ll be home?”

 Emma looks at the clock below her dashboard. It normally takes fifteen minutes to get from Marco’s to her house, but since she has to stop at the deli first, she knows it will be longer than that. “Well, based on the traffic, I wanna say two, two thirty is that too late?”

 “No it's perfect. Can’t wait.”

 $*$*$

 Entering the driving range he’s grown so familiar with, Killian wipes the sweat from his brow. He’s prepared for a morning of practice in the sweltering heat, reflecting on the honeymoon and the wonderful time he’d had with Emma.

 Killian knew he’d be taking a risk proposing so soon and getting married not long after, but he doesn’t regret any of it. He’s incredibly happy, and he never thought he could be—not until Emma had entered his life.

 He’s looking forward to the future awaiting him and his wife—a future of Emma being by his side, both of them supporting each other in any possible way, a future of loving Emma until his heart no longer beats in his chest. He’s also looking forward to telling the whole world he’s married to the most beautiful woman on the planet.

 “Hook, I should’ve known you’d be back here practicing for the next game right after your honeymoon.”

 Regina’s playful words surprise him before he can hit the ball in front of him, and he looks over, seeing her striding over to him holding a manilla envelope in her hands. Still gripping onto the club, he greets her with a blushing smile before returning his focus to the range in front of him. “So you’ve heard?” He swings and hits the ball, letting it cut through the air, and he watches it land before turning around to face Regina once more.

 The woman nods, closing the distance between them and standing in front of him. “Did you really think you could hide it from me?”

 “And let me guess who told you—Mary Margaret?”

 Regina laughs. “Come on Hook, you know she can’t keep a secret to save her life.”

 Killian nods in agreement. He likes to give his agent the benefit of the doubt, but she’s been known to let things slip out once in a while when she gets too excited. “So, what can I do you for?”

 Her face becomes more serious, concern washing over her features. “Look, Killian, I really wish you would have told me you were getting married to Miss Swan, because then I could’ve warned you.”

 “It’s Mrs. Swan-Jones now,” he corrects, lifting a brow as his smile dims; he suddenly has a bad feeling in the pit of stomach. “Warn me about what?”

 Regina sighs and peers down at the folder in her hands. “Well you know whenever I have a bad feeling about something, I can’t let it go. I end up turning to Sydney to gather information and ease my mind.”

 “Regina, who did you spy on?” he demands, growing irritated. He hates when she uses Sydney to do her dirty work. Hell, he hates that she always has to go digging up dirt in the first place. Everyone has a thing or two from the past they want to keep buried, so what gives this woman the right to go and uncover those things and stir up trouble?

 “Killian, I don’t know how to tell you this. Maybe we should go inside so you can sit down for this?” she suggests, glancing up at him.

 “I’m fine right here. Just tell me,” he says, agitation lacing his words. He doesn’t like to be interrupted during his practice, to be messed with, and Regina has a really bad habit of doing that.

 “Alright fine, I’ll be up front with you then. Emma Swan is not who you think she is.”

 Anger bubbles under his skin. This woman had the audacity to go and dig up information on his wife? “Bloody hell, Regina, I don’t wanna hear this.”

 “Oh believe me, you need to know this. The woman is playing you.”

 Killian’s already heard enough. He turns around, sliding his club into his bag. “I don’t believe this. I’m finally happy, and you have to go and try to spoil it for me. I’m leaving.” He picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

 “Wait, please Killian,” she begs, and he can sense the concern and urgency in her voice, but he doesn’t want to hear about it.

 “If you had concerns about her, you should’ve come talk to me, not go behind my back and—”

 “I know, but I didn’t. Instead I do what I do best. I panicked and had to find out more information. I’m sorry Killian, but none of that changes the fact that Miss Swan is a gold digger and Miss Byrd is not an interior decorator. Her real name is Milah Raven, and she's going to try and get you to have an affair. It’s all part of their scheme. They’re only trying to screw you over so they can run off with your money.”

 “Just stop,” he begs sharply. “I’ve heard enough. How can you just waltz over to me and accuse my wife of such things?”

 “Because I care about you. And I can prove to you that Miss Swan and Miss Raven have done this many times before.”

 He scoffs and looks her dead in the eye as he steps close to her with a threatening glare, speaking in a more quiet volume. “You don’t give a bloody damn about me. All you care about is your precious country club. Whatever you think you have on her, I want you to burn, or I will never come back to this place ever again, you got it?” he demands, his eyes clouding with rage.

 Regina nods, swallowing thickly. “Got it.”

 With that, he turns and walks away, angry and irritated and wanting to get into his vehicle and drive away as fast as he possibly can.

 Back at home, he can’t stop thinking about what Regina has told him. He peers down at his wedding ring, moving it around his finger. Is it possible Emma has been playing him this whole time?

 No, it can’t be true. His amazing Swan would never do that.

 Or would she?

 When he'd first met her, she wouldn't even go on a date with him. A month later, she's agreed to marry him? There's falling fast and hard for someone, but this was too fast, wasn't it?

 No, he refuses to believe his lovely Swan is anything other than who he knows her to be. Regina has all of her facts wrong.

 Killian guzzles down a bottle of water and goes upstairs, charging his phone which is only at five percent. He and Emma had engaged in some incredible morning lovemaking before she’d left, and he’d forgotten his phone battery was almost dead. Once his phone is connected to the charger, he takes a refreshing shower to rid the sweat from his skin after being out in the heat.

 As the hot water cascades over him, his wife floods his thoughts, and he looks forward to her coming home in the evening after she's packed some more of her things to bring over. He’d asked if he could help with anything, but she’d refused. Come to think of it, every time he’s asked about going over to her house, she always supplies him with an excuse, saying her apartment is messy or that she prefers being at his place. Now Regina has him thinking she’s living with this Milah person she had mentioned, but Killian refuses to let her words get inside his head.

 After his shower, he goes downstairs, catching the PGA at the Quicken Loans National on the telly when he hears a knock on the door. Turning off the game, he stands from his comfortable spot on the sofa, wondering who could be at the door. He knows it's not Emma because for one, she’s at work, and two, he's told her several times she doesn't have to knock when she comes over. They're married now, and she’s got a key, so why would she?

 He answers the door, seeing Trixy on the doorstep holding up a bottle of champagne. She’s also wearing a long sleeved blouse with her skirt, and he can’t believe she’s not too warm in this heat. It’s over a hundred degrees Fahrenheit outside.

 “Howdy!” she greats brightly.

 He scratches behind his ear, not recalling ever setting up an appointment with her today. “Oh uh, hi, Trixy. I wasn't expecting you...”

 Her mouth falls open a bit, and she lowers the bottle appearing to feel bad about dropping by. “Oh, didn't Emma tell you I was stopping by to show you some samples? She wanted you to decide which design to go with.”

 Killian shakes his head. “No, she must have forgot.”

 Trixy makes a gesture with her hand, waving off his words. “Well that's not a problem, I can come back another time. Sorry for botherin’ you,” she says, her words full of regret as she starts to turn around.

 “No, that's okay. Please come in.” He steps aside, allowing her to come into his home.

 “Thank you, Mr. Jones.”

 “Please, call me Killian.”

 Trixy smiles at that. “Alright. Thank you, Killian. And congratulations on getting married. Mrs. Jones told me over the phone. I brought you both a wedding gift.” She holds up the bottle of champagne again.

 “Thank you, lass, and actually it’s Mrs. Swan-Jones, but you can call her Emma.”

 Trixy flashes a coy grin. “Will do.”

 $*$*$

 Emma arrives at the apartment, carrying a bag of takeout from TooJay’s.

 “Milah, I brought food!” She sets the bag on the table and heads for her sister’s bedroom. “I really want to thank you for being understanding.” She reaches Milah’s room, opening the door. “I never planned on falling for—” Emma’s words die in her throat when she steps inside, finding the room empty. “Milah?”

 She leaves the bedroom and searches the rest of the apartment, including the balcony, but Milah’s nowhere to be seen. Her features fall, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

 Where the hell did she go?

 Emma came home just after two, like she'd promised.

 Maybe Milah went to the gym or to treat herself to a Swedish massage or Sanctuary Jewel facial spa. If so, why the hell didn't Milah invite her to go with?

 Emma walks over to the table and opens the bag, deciding she's too hungry to wait for Milah’s return. She removes her sandwich and picks up the bag to put Milah’s food in the refrigerator, but when she drags it from the table, a piece of paper slides off the surface, falling to the floor. Lifting a brow, Emma kneels down to pick it up and rises, turning the slip of paper over to see what it is.

 Her eyes instantly widen, face draining of blood when she reads Milah’s writing.

 Sorry sis. I have to finish the con. This is for your own good, so don't be mad. You’ll thank me later, trust me. You know where to find me.

 Love, Mi

 “Son of a bitch!”

 $*$*$

 Killian takes the bottle and makes his way to the kitchen, Trixy following behind him. “So I have to ask, how are you not burning up in long sleeves. I don’t care if you used to live in the dessert—it’s bloody hot outside,” he comments casually as they enter the kitchen.

 “Oh well, I put this on before I knew it was so hot,” she tells him with a laugh. Trixy starts to unbutton her blouse, but Killian reaches out, placing a hand on her arm to stop her. “Whoa, lass, what are you doing?”

 “Oh, I’m just cooling off a little. I shouldn’t have worn long sleeves,” she says, unfastening the first few buttons of her blouse. “The air conditioning in here feels nice, but the heat outside had me sweatin’ like a pregnant nun in church.” With the fourth button undone, Trixy reveals a little too much of her cleavage, so he averts his eyes from her and puts the champagne away. “Anywho,” Trixy begins, clearing her throat and getting down to business, “I've brought some sketches of different décor styles for you to look at.” Her eyes wander the room, spotting the kitchen table.

 “Aye, you can lay them out on the table," Killian says, pointing towards it and they make their way over.

 Offering a grin, Trixy takes out the first design from her black leather work bag, placing it on the surface. She sweeps her dark hair to one side, leaning over the table.

 Killian is only interested in the work she is doing, but he can’t help but notice her cleavage is being presented to him, and he starts to think about what Regina had said to him. He wonders if maybe she was right and if this is all a part of Emma’s and Milah’s ploy.

 Is this woman’s name actually Milah?

 No, he refuses to believe that. He refuses to believe his beautiful Swan would lie to him.

 “This one is a contemporary style.” The sketch is for the main room as she describes the features. “It gives the room more of a family feel, but it’s still simple and opens up the space without having too much of it.” The room is full of neutral colors, ranging from beige to brown, a wooden floor and a large area rug and sofa pillows with curvy lines and shapes.

 $*$*$

 “Dammit!”

 Emma hangs up the phone after her third attempt at calling Killian. She throws her phone in the passenger seat with a huff, wondering why he’s not answering.

 Keeping her eyes on the road, she’s seeing red as she drives faster than she has ever driven in her entire life. She's so stricken with fear and anger her knuckles are turning white as she grips the steering wheel. She shouldn't be worried. She knows Killian won't cheat on her; she has faith. She's more angry at Milah than she’s afraid of Killian having an affair.

 Emma waits at another goddamn red light, her patience wearing extremely thin. She’s still clutching to the steering wheel like it's a lifesource, hoping she can make it before Milah tries anything.

 How can her own fucking sister do this to her?!”

 Looking at the clock, she tries to steady her breathing, knowing she should be at Killian’s in ten minutes.

 The light turns green and Emma presses on the gas pedal, peeling out so fast she's sure to be there much sooner.

  $*$*$

 Trixy takes out the second design, placing it next to the other one. “This next one I think will fit the home you’ve invested here by the ocean, but it doesn't have as much of a family feel. It’s more of a coastal style or what we also refer to as the Hampton's style.” The sample is also for the living room and includes blacks and whites paired with blues and greens. The furnishings include a sleek, black and white sectional sofa, a simple, black coffee table and fireplace with a dark green rug, and blue and white striped patterns for pillows. “The room contains elements of wood, and the accessories are inspired by the sea to create a relaxed, comfortable environment for your family. So what are your thoughts?” Her words pull his eyes up from the samples and he looks up to see her smiling at him with a twinkle in her eye.

“Hmm.” Killian nods, scanning the designs, and running a hand along his stubbled jaw. “They’re both brilliant, and I think each of the designs are stunning in their own way. I do like the idea of the family design, although I’m leaning more towards the coastal design for obvious reasons,” he chuckles. “But I want to go with what fits more with my wife’s style.”

 Trixy nods in understanding, pursing her lips in thought. “You really love her don’t you?”

 “Of course I do. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have married her.”

 “Of course.” She stares into his eyes, speaking softly. “It’s really a shame though.”

 “Why do you say that?” He swallows thickly, praying to the gods above that Regina was not right.

 “Because another great guy is off the market. Emma’s a very lucky gal to have snagged a man like you, Mr. Jones,” she says sincerely, reaching out to place a hand on his arm.

 He looks down at the gesture and lifts a brow, unsure of how to respond to that.

 Trixy’s eyes widen when she realizes what she’s done, and she quickly removes her hand. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Jones, I didn’t mean to—”

 “It’s alright, lass,” he assures, seeing the red in her cheeks; he knows the gesture was unintentional and that she’s embarrassed about it. “And I told you, it’s Killian.”

 “I'm sorry,” she repeats sheepishly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and biting her bottom lip, looking away. “Anyway, I agree with your choice, and yes, you also have to be considerate of what Emma will like, too. This shall be a couple’s decision, so I’ll tell you what, even though Emma trusts your judgment, I think I should come back when both of ya’ll are here to decide together.”

 She leans over the table and picks up her samples a little too quickly. When she spins around, the sketches fall from her hands, one sliding away from her. “Oh mah, I’m such a clodhopper!” She bends over, trying to kneel down to pick up the one within her reach, but her skirt is too tight and she ends up falling to her hands and knees to gather up the sample. If he were any less of a gentleman he probably would’ve looked as the fabric rode up her arse, but he is only interested in his wife.

 “It’s not a problem, Trixy.” He bends down to help her pick up the other sketch as she apologizes profusely.

 “Oh lordy,” she grumbles as he rises and returns to her, extending his hand. She takes it, using him as an anchor to stand up. “Thank you so much, Killian.”

 “It's not a problem,” he assures, noticing she’s still clutching onto his hand.

 “You’re a lifesaver.” Her eyes meet his and he can hear the hitch in her breath. This whole time he’s tried to convince himself that her touches were accidental. Now he’s starting to see that everything she has done since she's arrived, and even during their first meeting when she'd tried to rub his crotch, has been intentional. “Well, I should get goin’ now.”

 Killian peels his eyes away and peers down at their joined hands. She takes the hint and starts to release her grip, but when she does, he can’t help but notice the sleeve of her blouse slipping past her wrist, part of a tattoo peeking out. He tugs the cuff away from her wrist to get a better look.

 It's just as he suspects—a raven tattoo.

 “Killian!” he hears Emma call from the front door, but before he can process what is actually happening, Trixy is launching herself at him and smashing her lips into his.

 He quickly pushes Trix—Milah (or whoever the bloody hell she really is) away from him, anger burning inside of him as he rips himself from the thralls of her arms.

 “How could you do this to me?!”

 He turns his head to catch Emma witnessing the entire scene, complete devastation in her features.

 “Oh Mrs. Jones, I'm so sorry,” Milah says in her fake Texan drawl.

 Killian tightens his jaw, eyes fleeting between these two vixens who have set him up. He is heated. “Oh please, spare me the act. I know this is all part your scheme,” he snaps at both of them.

 “I wasn't talking to you,” Emma says to him and steps up to the other woman. “I told you the con was over, but you didn't listen to me!” she hollers at the brunette, a ferocious storm brewing in her emerald depths. “I trusted you!”

 Killian is completely baffled as he glances between them. Why is Emma angry at Milah if this was all a set up?

 “And I trusted you to make this work, but you failed!” Milah shouts back at her, just as furious and no longer using the fake accent.

 “I told you I can't help how I feel, but you put the con before your own sister! You're nothing but a selfish—”

 “Excuse me,” he cuts her off briskly. “I don't mean to interrupt this sisterly squabble, but what the devil is going on?!” he demands, breaking up their feud.

 Emma looks at him, regret and tears swarming her eyes. “I'm sorry, Killian. I wanted to stop it, but she went behind my back.” Emma points at her sister accusingly, and she's about to say something else, but her eyes blow wide in realization, and she glances back at Killian. “Wait, how did you know?”

 “Regina told me,” he snarls and sets his death glare on the brunette.

 Emma closes her eyes, breathing out, “Regina,” through clenched teeth.

 “And I didn't want to believe her, but she said your name was Milah Raven, then I saw that the tattoo on your wrist is a raven, and it's on the same spot where Emma has a tattoo of a swan. Plus, you tried to kiss me when Emma bursted inside, so it wasn’t difficult to put the bloody pieces together,” he mutters spitefully.

 “Killian, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to go through with it, but Milah wouldn't listen.” Emma tries to approach him and touch his shoulder, but he backs away. “Killian, you have to believe me.”

 That's when he explodes with the rage he feels inside. “You lied to me and tricked me into marrying you! Why the fuck would I believe you?!’

 “Because my feelings for you are real!” she tries to reassure him in a pleading voice, her words cracking as tears slide down her cheeks.

 He looks at her with a steely glare. “I don’t even know who you are.”

 “Yes, you do, Killian! My name is Emma Swan, I used to be an orphan like you and I work at Marco’s Italian Tuxedos. I've been more real with you than any other man I've ever met!”

 “No, to me you're nothing but a gold-diggin’ charlatan.”

 She swallows audibly, her lips trembling and another tear escaping her eyes. “Not anymore,” she vows, but Killian can’t listen to another word.

 His heart is shattered into a million pieces, anger and rage replacing the love he’d held for her. She is not the beautiful Swan he thought he knew. “I want you both out of my home,” he speaks quietly, but his words are just as deadly.

 Milah doesn't hesitate, and grabs her bag, storming out quietly, but Emma stays, trying to convince him she actually loves him.

 “Killian, please, I'm so sorry.” More tears are streaming down her face, and he can't help but still see her as his wife who's in pain, but he has to stay strong.

 “I said leave,” he tells her again, pointing towards the door, as much as it hurts. “I don't ever want to see you again.”

 “But we’re married,” she chokes out, the fear of losing him evident in her voice, but he couldn't care less. She’s hurt him badly and he can’t find it within him to have sympathy for her.

 Killian’s eyes darken as he stares into hers, wondering how she could do this to him? How could someone be so cruel? “Our wedding was a sham,” Killian states, his words heavy with the hurt and pain he feels. He storms past her, rushing to the front door and yanking it open, his voice growing louder and harsher as she follows behind him. “Now get the fuck out!”

 His booming voice makes her jump, but she complies, her head down as she makes her way towards the entrance, sniffling and wiping her tears. She digs into her purse and grabs her keys, taking off the one for the cabin and holds it up for him. He snatches it from her grasp as she looks up at him one last time before she goes. “I'm truly sorry, Killian,” she whispers softly.

 “You can get your belongings later when I'm not here,” he says flatly. “I'll have someone here to let you in. But don't be surprised if your things are floating in the ocean when you come back.”

 Emma simply nods and proceeds sluggishly out onto the porch. She walks down the steps and heads towards her car, looking back at him once more, eyes red and puffy and cheeks stained with tears. She enters her car as he steps inside, flinging the door shut, his heart aching and his breathing crippled, emotions washing over him like a tidal wave.

 He can't believe in one day his world has completely crumbled apart between his fingertips. He can't believe the love of his life was never really his love at all. The entire thing was a bloody joke. He feels like such a bloody fool; he should've just listened to Regina. He should've never rolled the dice on Emma.

 He should've never followed his heart in the first place.

A/N: Okay, you can throw things at me now

Tagging: @mayquita @freakassbuthunter @libbcoxnet-blog @goldengirlschildhood @courtorderedcake @florenzu @marcella2727  @veryverynotgood @i-would-cross-realms-4-her @hooklineandswan @wonderfullycarriedaway @0swald-c0bblep0t @cs-forlife @andiirivera @snotelek @capswantrue @nikkiemms @capswantrue @swansong12 @lg-campbell @lassluna @followbatb @harshini01 @betchesgetshitdone @coliferoncer @ultraluckycatnd @resident-of-storybrooke @kinkyhiddlesgirl @teamhook

[jemmingart]

“You’re here.”

She ran to him and launched herself into his arms, not even caring that she was sobbing into his shirt. He held her tight, rubbing one hand up and down her back as the other cradled her head.

“Shhh, Swan. It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.” -Chapter 23

Nuuk by the incredible @wellhellotragic

Summary: When a chance encounter with a blue-eyed mystery man on an ill-fated flight turns Emma Nolan’s life upside down, she has a choice to make: Continue with her arranged marriage to Senator Gold’s son to save her parent’s company, or turn her back on everything she’s ever worked towards for a chance at happiness.

Rating: E (there’s smut!!)

Content warnings: Smut, Alcohol Abuse, Violence, Language

First Chapters: AO3 & tumblr

Okay so I’m an absolute sucker for warm, heartfelt reunions. Especially after loads of angst, cliffhangers, and what not! Makes it just so much more satisfying. Loved playing around with the lighting for this one and drawing their expressions. Give the rest of Nuuk a read its great!

 This is also last of my art for the @captainswanbigbang collab! Had a blast working on all the art over the summer and I’m excited that its all up!

[clockadile]

She’s dragging herself up the walk when she spots a dark blur on the landing of the apartment building. She thinks it’s a forgotten scarf or something, but just when she’s about to pass by, it shivers hard and she almost trips over her own feet. She crouches down to check the animal and discovers that it’s a cat. He’s shivering steadily now, obviously not impervious to the cold temperatures or the wind that’s beginning to gust harder.

Chapter 3 of @lifeinahole27‘s Wait for the Moonrise is live and we finally get to meet that cat in the banner art. All part of the @captainswanbigbang

Tumblr AO3 FFN

[sambethe]

CS FF: Hush

A/N: I wrote a little something for the CS Storybook, Volume 2. I opted for a missing scene that falls at the end of Dark Hollow and before the events of Think Lovely Thoughts picks up. @gingerchangeling did a lovely little piece of Emma sitting by the fire to accompany it - go check it out here!

Summary: Emma just needs a break, figuratively and metaphorically. Hook may be the one to give it to her.

Words: 1400 | Rated: gen | ao3

+++

It’s another day down, and another night with Henry out there, alone. It’s enough to make Emma want to steal Neal’s lighter and burn the island down. Take her – take Neal’s - cutlass and hack a path to Henry. Instead she distracts herself by poking at the fire in front of her, watching the embers spark and pop as she disturbs them with the stick she pulled from the brush earlier.

From the corner of her eye she can see Mary Margaret roll out her bedding next to David’s. They still don’t seem to be talking, exactly, but there's a thaw between them. They have once again slid back into that practiced ease of theirs, moving around and with one another seamlessly. It both warms her heart and makes her burn with jealousy. Leaves her with a whole host of what ifs that she tamps down brutally before they can take up residence in her chest, where she is already too full of wants and worries for Henry.

Emma wishes she could say the same of her and Neal. He’s been quiet since they returned from the hollow and set up the night’s camp, curling up on his own bedroll, his back to the fire – and all of them. She doesn’t know whether to huff a sigh and roll her eyes, or hit him in the chest and tell him to get it together. Petulance isn’t what she needs from anyone at this point. She’s feeling enough of it herself.

She meant what she said back in Echo Cave. It would be easier to put everything with him behind her. She doesn’t want face all of it again, doesn’t want to think about the way every part of her cracks when she sees his face. How the ache forms in her chest and begins to gnaw once more, a steady reminder that she has never been enough for someone stay.

But if Neal being here, being back, means there’s a chance Henry doesn’t have to grow up without him, she would face that age-old ache and then some. Because she’ll be damned if Henry ever has to spend one moment more wondering if he matters, to her or anyone else.

Then there’s Hook.

She stabs at the fire again, sliding the stick deep into the embers, shifting them around even when she knows she should leave them be. He shifts behind her as she does, ducking beneath some branches at the edge of the clearing. She wars with herself about whether she should ask, and the words slip from her mouth before she’s realized she’s made up her mind.

“Where are you going?”

She keeps herself from turning as she asks, though, not wanting to see the hint of a smirk on his face or the teasing lift of his eyebrow. She can hear him pause, the swish of his overlong coat fading, and she wonders if he’s turned back towards her or if he, too, refuses to look.

“There’s a river nearby, thought I would get us some fresh water.”

She turns at that point and finds him with the straps of a few canteens wrapped around his hand. Before he can move further, she stands, brushing dirt from her pants.

He waves her off. “You don’t have to. I’ll be back in a tic.”

Not answering, she grabs the cutlass from the top her own bedroll and moves past him. “Let’s go,” she grunts, hacking at the brush in front of her despite the fact they had cleared it away on their way in.

They aren’t more than a few steps from the clearing when his hand wraps around her wrist, stilling her before she can raise her arm for another useless swipe. She glares back at him but doesn’t shrug him off.

“How about we try for a quieter approach?” he asks, one finger rubbing at the side of her wrist. “Not attract any Lost Boys unnecessarily?”

His thumb at her pulse point makes her want to lean back, to sink against him, but she catches herself before she follows that instinct. Slowly rolling her shoulder, she steps forward. Hook drops her hand and steps past her with a nod, taking the path that forks to the right. He doesn’t look to see if she’s followed and she wants to roll her eyes at that, but falls into line behind him instead.

They are quiet as they walk, allowing the sounds of the crickets and cicadas to settle around them. At least she imagines them to be crickets and cicadas. She doesn’t want to ask and risk finding out that even the bugs on this island are the stuff of childhood nightmares. It isn’t long before the trickle of water joins the chirping, and after another bend, the overgrown path dead ends into small river.

Hook drops the canteens to the ground along the bank and shrugs off his coat. She stands at the edge of the water. The quiet that surrounds them is almost soothing. If she closes her eyes, she can almost pretend they are back in Storybrooke. Home and safe, or whatever counts for that there.

“Take off your shoes, love.”

“Huh?”

Emma turns back to find he has shed his vest as well, leaving him in his thin, billowy shirt. His boots are discarded and he’s rolled up the ends of his pants, exposing his ankles and shins. She’s not sure if she’s ever seen this much of his skin and she’s sure she’s staring with her mouth hanging open.

If she is though, he ignores it and nods to the water as he takes a step forward. “The water runs warm. When nights go cold like this one, it’s a good respite.”

“You came out here to play in the water?”

“There’s nothing more we can do for Henry tonight, and we are no good to your boy if we haven’t rested. This...” He reaches his arm out and gestures for her to join him. “This allows me to relax. Come, try it.”

She narrows her eyes and drops a hand to her hip.

“Swan.”

The way her drawls her name sends a shiver through her that she tries hard to ignore. Rather than answer, she rolls her eyes, but lifts a leg so she can remove her boot. She does the same with her other foot and then leans down to roll up her pants. Hook is smiling by the time she is done and encourages her out into the water.

He’s right, not that she wants to tell him that, and for a brief moment she wishes the water was deep enough to dunk herself in. Then she shakes away the thought. She doesn’t want to think about the last time she’s had a shower, or have a reminder of just how long it has been since Henry was home and safe.

After a few minutes, Hook moves back to the river bank, settling down on the soft grass there, stretching out to leave his feet at the water’s edge. She watches him, drawn to the way the bones of his ankle stand out, the lines and sinews of them tempting. The hair of his legs stops just above the knob of bone, and her fingers itch to follow the swirls of it in the same way he held her wrist earlier.

She stops herself though, sitting down next to him and purposely leaving a decent gap of space between them. Her fingers tangle through the grass beneath them, and she tugs a bit but not enough to pull it up. Keeping her attention at her hand, she quietly asks, “Can you tell me again?”

“What’s that?”

“That we’ll find Henry? That we’ll keep him safe?”

She slaps her toes against the surface of the water, enjoying the small beads that land on the tops of her feet and how their warmth seeps into her skin. Hook extends a foot towards hers, poking at her ankle with his big toe until she finally relents and looks at him.

“You’ll get your boy back, love, of that I’ve never been more sure.”

He then turns towards her, stretching one foot over his extended leg, planting it on the ground and creating a bridge with his leg as he lies down on his side. He props his head in his hand, his hook lying between them.

She shifts to face him and gives him a small smile. “We should go back,” she says, closing her eyes.

“Hush,” he whispers. “We’ve time, just rest.”

[euphoric-melancholyy]

Tortured Soul (A 5x14  CSSB Fic)

This is my contribution to the CSSB Volume 2. Artwork by the amazing @tennant-the-tigger.  This is me delving into Killian’s headspace during and before the episode.

Killian Jones has known torture most of his life. But here in the realm of the departed, it’s different. There’s something to be said for the physical torture of a soul that is uncomparable to 300 years of pain prior.

With Cerberus's bite comes a venam that courses through his bloodstream and sets his skin aflame.  He thinks maybe, that’s what hurts the most. (But this is always before the next blow, the next crippling of his spirit.) It feels oddly like being alive, but his flesh here is cold and when his blood dries, it seeps through his skin, filling the space where lungs should be. He drowns in it - coughing and wheezing until a new sensation of suffering takes over.

It subsides, eventually. Allowing him to drown in worry for his family, for their safety, before the cycle starts again. Sometimes Killian wonders if the physical evidence of his torture will surface on his now buried body - if they shift from open wounds that burn at contact in the Underworld to scars as his flesh disintegrates. A temporary testimony to his eternity in this hell. Would the scars mar the ink that coat his skin? (He can picture the swan on his chest now welted and wrinkled, a disfigurement that leaves the symbol pointed unrecognizably. On the inside of his arm, maybe a red heart with a dagger’s raised tip reaches his palm. And he can picture the feathers on his shoulder bone whose distance is marked by a ragged indention.)

His left side bears the worst of it, with blood still trickling down his face from the blow that swelled his left eye shut and hampered his ability to walk. When death finally took him in Storybrooke after a too long life, he thought maybe the pain would cease. But what he’s found is the opposite.  All that’s left of him is tormented anger. He can feel it rise in his gut, a tight ball that constricts at the thought of Rumple, reborn a Dark One once more at the price of Killian’s life and sacrifice. Though Killian’s not sure who he hates more at this point - his foil in his past life, or the one who stands before him now, requesting that he engrave his friends’ names into a tombstone.

To read the rest, head on over to page 339 here

[scholarshipja]

The Jamaica Constabulary Force (#JCF) launched the first of its kind 'Music Camp 2020' at the JCF Band Division Headquarters in Kingston Gardens, Kingston, on Monday. The camp is a project of the Community Safety and Security Branch (#CSSB), which is being funded by the Jamaica Social Investment Fund (JSIF). The project will run for one year, however, the initial camp will last for two consecutive weeks.  Read FULL STORY on @thejamaicastar IG STORY (at ScholarshipJamaica.com) https://www.instagram.com/p/CD-J0RnBnl6/?igshid=iwamwjrb159k

[stophookingatmeswan]

We’re Strange Allies with Warring Hearts

Rated M (for sexual imagery and language, because that’s how I roll)

It’s CS Storybook time!

My contribution is a deleted scene down by the water from 3x14 in the aftermath of the super-angsty “if it can be broken, it means it still works” moment in the woods. The stunning artwork is by @somethingalltogether. 

Many thanks to @flslp87​ and @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ for putting this together, and to everyone who had a hand in bringing the storybook to life with words, art or work behind the scenes.

CS Storybook, Vol. 2

“Is that enough humor for you?”

The words haunted him in the dark, the stars overhead dimmed by fog, an unintended assist by nature to help reflect his mood. There was something beyond a chill in the air; Killian was cold to his bones even through layers of leather and rum, and he laughed humorlessly – a short staccato that reverberated on the water – at the metaphor of it all. 

Those hero types, always talking about hope. And for once, he’d had hope in spades. Hope that he could find a magic bean. Hope that the offer to trade his ship would be enough, and that the accord with Blackbeard wouldn’t be too bitter a pill to swallow. Hope that when he found Emma, True Love’s kiss would break the curse and cause her memories would return. Hope she would come with him back to Storybrooke. 

Hope that there would be an us. 

One by one, those final hopes were dashed until he was left sitting alone at her kitchen table as she went to tend to the us she had with another man. Monkey or not, he’d had her heart, at least far more of it than Killian had ever had. It was a bitter pill to swallow and burned as much as his first sip of rum all those years ago and sat in his gut just as heavy and burdensome. 

That acidity had bubbled up and over as they walked in the woods searching for Zelena as Emma questioned him about how he’d spent his time during the missing year. He’d lied and doubled down when she called him on it, and then brazenly changed the subject, simultaneously guarding his own heart and breaking it as he asked about the proposal. 

Read more

[liloproductions]

Cover for @donteattheappleshook ‘s story, “Check Ups,” for the @csstorybook ‘s CSBB Vol. 2 

Story set during the episode 2x12 and you can read it on page 31 

PS: I really enjoyed creating this edit. Thank you, Maddie, for your comments during our chats, they were vital to the process while I was trying to show what you described in your story

It was great to be part of such a cool project (it was my first time), so thank you @flslp87 @whimsicallyenchantedrose 

Please do not repost

[hookedonapirate]

To Play the Game (and win your heart)

Summary: Some people would call it a job, but to Emma and her sister, Milah, it’s a game of the heart. Play by the rules and you’ll never get hurt.

Whatever you call swindling wealthy men out of their money, this con-artist duo has it down to a tee. Milah sets up an available, rich man and gets him to marry her. Emma seduces and lures the husband into having an affair so he’ll get caught in the act. He then loses his money in the ensuing divorce.

The sisters wear a coat of armor around their hearts to keep them intact, but when they set their sights on their next mark, professional golfer Killian “Hook” Jones, Emma never imagined how hard the game could be and how easily her heart could be stolen—especially when she switches roles with Milah and becomes the one exchanging vows with the gorgeous multi-millionaire. Heartbreakers AU.

Artwork by: @distant-rose

Rating: Mature for connivery, vixen behavior and sexual themes.

Content Warnings: This story deals with conning and manipulation and also mentions/includes children with various disabilities, and also .

Author’s Notes: Wow, we're on chapter 8 already? Where did the time go? Thank you everyone for your wonderful comments and thanks for following along! You've all been very patient to find out how things go down, but I promise we'll get there soon. In fact, there's a lot happening in this chapter to move the story along at a quicker pace.

Thank you @captainswanbigbang and all of the moderators for organizing the event and for all of your help throughout the process.

A huge shout out goes to @ilovemesomekillianjones for all of her help with this fic. She really kicked some butt while beta reading, and if not for her, this story would not be what it is. And thank you @wellhellotragic​ for pointing out a few dumb mistakes as well.

Thank you @distant-rose for stepping in as my artist. She is so talented and I can’t wait for everyone to see all of the art she has planned for this fic. She even made me a playlist for this story including Emma’s and Milah’s theme song, Homewrecker by Marina and the Diamonds, and some other great tracks that fit well with the theme of the fic.

Thank you @onceuponaprincessworld for all of her feedback and for her constant support and for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the process. Thank you @teamhook for her help and ideas with scenes I was struggling with.

There are 12 chapters, and I will be posting every Tuesday, so let me know if you would like to be tagged.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7

Also available on: AO3 FFnet

Artwork by @distant-rose

Ch 1 Art Ch 3 Art Ch 4 Art Ch 7 Art

Chapter 8: Accepting the Proposition

~Rule #8: You hold all the cards, so know how to play them. You've spent all those hours trying to catch him, so respect the work you've done. Once you've caught him, reel him in, wrap him around your finger and make him bend to your will. Make him chase you, make him travel to you, make him pick you up, not the other way around. It's important to put your needs first and just do you, not him.~

 “No way! I strictly forbid it!” Milah throws Emma a glance, eyes full of fury from across the jacuzzi.

 Why is Milah acting like this?

 The mood had gone sour far too quickly for Emma’s liking. And here she thought they could have a civil conversation about this. She thought if she could lure Milah into the relaxing jacuzzi along with some expensive champagne, Emma would be able to coax her into saying yes. Of course when Milah sobers tomorrow and realizes her mistake, it would be too late. Emma would already be gone.

 Emma’s eyes widen and she stands from the seat in the tub, the water cascading down her bikini clad body as she quickly climbs out and grabs a towel from the nearby bench to dry off.

 So much for soothing bubbles and massaging jets.

 “You’re not my mother!” Emma reminds her, shivering from the cool air hitting her heated skin as she wraps the towel around her form.

 “I’m your sister and I’m only looking out for you.” Milah’s voice is much calmer as she leans her head back, resting on the ledge of the tub. “And I don’t want to see you following this guy around like a lost puppy dog. He comes to you, you do not go to him!”

 This only makes Emma furious, and her blood boils with anger. “You’re not looking out for me. You just don’t want me to succeed! Being apart from him is going to be a huge setback,” Emma bites out angrily. “His schedule is jam packed with tournaments, and I’m not sure when he’ll be back!”

 “You should have thought about that before you decided to go after a pro golfer! Besides, if he really wants to see you, he'll do what it takes!”

 Emma's eyes practically pop out of their sockets. “This is Killian’s career and his life! He can’t just leave when he feels like it.”

 Milah raises her head, her eyes narrowing at Emma. “What did you just call him?”

 Emma’s eyebrows furrow in confusion before she realizes her mistake. She’d called him Killian. “Hook, I meant Hook.”

 Milah’s eyes widen when she scans Emma’s features. “No, it wasn’t an accident, was it? You’ve never called him Killian before, only his nickname.”

 Emma looks down, tearing her gaze from her sister’s. “It was an accident. It meant nothing, I promise.”

 Milah still does not look happy when Emma finally lifts her chin, and the brunette’s arms are folded over her chest.

 “Really? So you’re not developing any feelings for him?”

 Emma quickly shakes her head, her features twisting in defense. “No, of course not!”

 Milah laughs, but it’s a far cry from being playful as she emerges from the tub and grabs a towel to dry herself off. Wrapping it around her waist, she walks to a table near the front door and grabs a piece of paper, going back to Emma and showing it to her. “Then why was this on your computer screen this morning?”

 Emma takes the page, scanning it over before glancing up at her sister again. It's a confirmation of her purchases for a coursebook and class about caring for children with disabilities she’d signed up for. “Because I wanted to do some volunteer work. I wanted to make it believable that I care about disabled children. I did it to impress Kil—Hook. I did it to impress Hook,” Emma claims, but even she knows she’s not fooling anyone—not even herself.

 Milah nods, but her features are drowning in sarcasm. “I’m sure spending $100 for that will be worth it.”

 Emma’s eyes widen incredulously. “It’s a small price to pay.”

 Milah scoffs. “Yeah I’m sure it would be, considering you’re in love with your mark.”

 Emma tightens her lips, taking in a deep breath through her nose, the anger bubbling inside of her once more. “I am not in love with him. I’m playing my part, and I refuse to be chastised for that.”

 A taunting smirk tilts Milah’s lips as she drops her arms and strides over to Emma, her eyes steely and cold. “Fine. Then prove it. Do not go on that trip. Show me you are not emotionally attached to him. Then I’ll believe you.” With that, Milah turns and walks away.

 Emma is heated. She huffs and rushes to the table slamming the page on the surface.

 $*$*$

 “Killian, we can’t wait much longer.” Mary Margaret looks down at her watch to catch the time. “Emma’s a nice girl and all, but we’re scheduled to take off in five minutes.”

 “She’ll come,” Killian states confidently to his agent. “I know she’ll come.” At least he hopes so. No, he knows she’ll come. He can feel it in his gut.

 The sound of the aircraft engines roar to life, the wind picks up, momentarily deafening him, and little traces of hope chip away within him. Knowing he might have to leave without her makes his stomach recoil. He doesn’t know how long he can be without her. Granted, they only started dating yesterday, but he knows he won’t be able to vanquish her from his mind. Especially not after last night. He can still feel her soft lips on his, he can still feel how bloody fantastic her body felt pressed to his, he can still smell her perfume. His heart flutters rapidly just thinking about her.

 Two minutes pass and Emma’s still not here.

 “It’s time to go!” Mary Margaret shouts over the drone of the jet, her white blazer fluttering around her, revealing the intricate wiring of her earpiece.

 He nods reluctantly as she and David board, and Killian starts moving towards the large aircraft. His heart sinks and his features are worn with disappointment, but what other choice does he have? He begins to ascend the steps towards the opening of the aircraft.

 “Killian!”

 His ears perk up at the sound over the engines and he quickly turns around to see Emma rushing towards him, with Tiny from ground personnel escorting her. A smile blooms over his lips, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he rushes down the steps.

 “I’m here!” Emma calls out. She desperately makes her way towards him, frazzled as she hauls her rolling suitcase along with her across the tarmac.

 When she approaches, Killian scoops her into his arms, crashing his lips into hers. They both sigh in relief, and he doesn’t know just how much he had wanted her to join him until that exact moment. The wind is blowing around them, whipping through their hair as he tightens his arms around her, pulling her closer, savoring the taste and feel of her lips before he has to let her go.

 “I don't mean to interrupt, but we gotta go, Hook!”

 The sound of his agent's voice over the jet pulls them apart, and he looks over at the brunette, flashing a small smirk. “Apologies, love. We’re coming.”

 Killian and Emma are both blushing and smiling as Tiny takes her luggage to load it on the aircraft. Killian takes her hand in his, threading their fingers together as they make their way towards the jet.

 Emma gapes at the large aircraft in bewilderment as they sashay up the steps. He can sense a bit of fear glazing over her bright green eyes.

 “Wow, I never thought I’d be flying by a private jet,” she tells him as they board. “Truthfully I never thought I’d be flying at all. I’ve always preferred road trips.”

 $*$*$

 Inside the jet, it’s significantly quieter, and she’s still in complete awe. Her stomach is doing somersaults as she takes a seat in the luxurious leather seat next to Killian and plugs in her seatbelt.

 “We’re glad you could make it,” Mary Margaret chirps, her bubbly personality much too bubbly this early in the morning.

 Emma gives her a tired smile and leans her head back, anxiously waiting for takeoff.

 She can’t believe she’s going with Killian to Ohio, and she knows Milah will try and make her regret it—when Milah finds out; Emma had left a note for her on the breakfast table. The plane jolts forward, and Emma gasps, desperately grabbing Killian's hand in hers.

 He chuckles and slides his fingers in between hers. “Relax, love. We’re just starting to roll down the runway.”

 Some classical music starts playing, which calms her a bit, along with Killian’s soothing voice and his touch. Emma had managed to pack early that morning, way too early, as quickly as she possibly could, and jammed everything she could into her suitcase. She’s sure she’s forgotten some things, but she’ll have to do without or buy the items where they are going. She’s lucky Milah didn’t wake up, but the brunette is not really an early riser, so Emma knew she had a chance of escaping.

 “So, what you made you change your mind?” Killian asks, tilting his head towards her and curving a brow in curiosity.

 Emma looks over at him, flashing a small smile. “I wasn’t going to, but last night I couldn’t sleep, and I just thought why not? Why not take a chance? Really, the main reason I didn’t want to go is because…” she leans in, whispering in his ear, “I’m terrified of flying.”

 Killian’s eyes widen in surprise as he scans her features, swallowing audibly. “You’re terrified of flying and you still came?”

 Emma nods. “Yeah,” she answers timidly.

 Killian appears to be touched by this, a wide smile blossoming over his lips as he leans in, pressing a kiss to her temple, murmuring against skin, the soft vibrations of his voice soothing her nerves a bit more. “Well, I promise you won’t regret it.” He raises their joined hands and drops gentle kisses to her knuckles. “Just relax and take deep breaths.”

 Emma hates the idea of planes, hates the idea of flying and hates the idea of having her feet anywhere but planted solidly on the ground. The jet makes another turn to head straight, and Emma does what she’s told, breathing in slowly to calm her anxiety. Her fingers grip tightly around Killian’s hand as the plane bounces off the runway and begins to ascend.

 “Just breathe, love. I got you.”

 Emma squeezes his hand a little tighter and sinks back in the seat, closing her eyes. She takes in another deep breath, her nerves slowly dwindling.

 Once they reach cruising altitude and Emma’s ears stop popping, she’s able to relax a bit more, and they move to more comfortable seating—on a matching leather couch.

 They sit back and Killian wraps his arm around her shoulders as she leans her body into his. Now that her fear of flying has simmered, she starts to feel the weariness in her eyes and tiredness sinking into her bones. She covers the yawn escaping her mouth and rests her head on his shoulder, enjoying the warmth from his body through the cotton polo he’s wearing. She’s not really sure what to do with her right hand as she lowers it from her face, so she slips it underneath the hem of his shirt, feeling his washboard stomach and abs underneath and hearing his breath catch in his throat.

 “Would you like some coffee, Emma?” he asks, placing his left hand on her arm, running his fingers over her skin as if to secure her hand on his stomach.

 Emma shakes her head against the broadness of his shoulder, deciding he’s more comfortable than a soft pillow as she runs her hand over his stomach. “No, I think I might take a nap if that's okay.” She could really get used to this position.

 “Of course, love. If you want to lay down, I can move.”

 Again Emma shakes her head, already feeling the pull of sleep taking over her body as her eyes flutter shut. “That’s okay. You make a really good pillow,” she murmurs, and Killian chuckles, placing a kiss to her hair.

 “As you wish.”

 With those soft words, Emma nuzzles her cheek further into his warmth and they snuggle each other tighter as she allows herself to slowly drift off to sleep, thinking about how Milah’s taking the news, hoping Milah will forgive her.

 $*$*$

  Dear Sis,

 I left for Ohio to be with Hook, but please know I didn't do it because I have feelings for him. I did it for us. I did it for you. You've always been the big sister, you've always taken care of me and made sure I had everything I needed. Well, now it's time for me to take care of you. So, I ask you, please let me do what I have to do. Please trust me. The money’s in our reach and I'm so very close. Hawaii will be too. Very soon. Let me do this and I promise I won't let you down.

 I love you.

 ~Emma

 Milah’s eyes prick with tears as she scans the letter. She wants to be mad, she wants to be furious, she wants tear up the paper into a million pieces.

 But she can't.

 She told Emma not to go, begged her, pleaded with her but now everything is out of her hands. Now she has to trust Emma to make diligent decisions. She has to let Emma do this. She knows that. So she will.

 Milah retrieves her phone from her back pocket and types a message to Emma as she reads her words out loud.

 “I'm trusting you, sis. Just don’t fuck it up.”

 With a tap of her thumb, Milah presses send and hopes for the best.

 $*$*$

 One week later—Memorial Tournament, Dublin, OH

 Killian “Hook” Jones stormed to a six-shot victory at the Memorial to reclaim the top spot in the rankings after being leapfrogged by Robin Locksley at the Players. —pgatour.com

 Two weeks later— FedEx St. Jude Classic , Memphis, TN

 No player has ever won the week before the U.S. Open and gone on to claim the second major of the year, but after his win at the St. Jude Classic, Killian “Hook” Jones is aiming to break that streak. His return to world No. 1 has given him added confidence of making U.S. Open history at Shinnecock Hills next week. “I mean winning this week, I think, is a bigger confidence-booster than being number one in the world,” Hook said (via Sky Sports). “The U.S. Open is a tough place to win, but I don't know why it hasn't happened before, so why not be the first bloke to do it?” —pgatour.com

 Three weeks later— U.S. Open , Southampton, NY

 It's day one as Killian approaches the par-4 eighth hole and tees off with a swing, smart and efficient, sending his ball through the air a little more than two hundred yards. It falls to the very edge of the fairway and rolls off to the left, straight into a bunker.

 He remains confident and is able to hole the shot, grabbing a share of the lead with Locksley at two under par.

 On day four, Hook and Robin are tied until the seventeenth hole, much as they had been during the previous three rounds. Locksley’s drive on the seventeenth hooks into the bunker to the left of the fairway, giving Killian just the advantage he needs. Killian is able to birdie the short par three, where Robin overshoots his way out of the sand bunker, and double putts for bogey.

 As the men begin the eighteenth, two strokes apart, all eyes are on Hook. After the first shot, a horrible drive sliced to the trees, it takes Killian an additional two shots—one out of the woods, and one to the green. The ball makes a smooth landing thirty feet from the cup.

 It’s the third shot for Robin as he lines up his putt for roughly twenty seconds. His patience and measurement pay off, and he makes the long putt for birdie. He walks to the hole, enjoying the crowd cheering on his possible victory. Grabbing his ball out of the cup, he holds it up to the crowd and nods graciously.

 Killian must now make this monster putt to win; if he doesn’t, the round will go into sudden death to break the tie. The audience grows restless, shouting for Killian to “put it in the hole!”

 He glances around the crowd, anxious to see his beautiful, blonde talisman. Spotting her, he grins, realizing she might be as nervous as he is, as she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, her hands laced together under her chin as though she is praying. She throws him an excited wave, and he winks in return.

 Taking a deep breath and centering himself, he focuses on lining up his putt. With a solid stroke and follow through, the anticipation is heightened as the ball slowly rolls down the green and swivels around the cup before sinking in.

 The crowd goes wild, whistling, cheering and applauding as Killian raises a subtle victory fist into the air. He waves to the crowd, and looks to Emma once more, blowing her a kiss.

 World number one, Killian “Hook” Jones has broken several records today. He successfully defended his title at Shinnecock Hills on Long Island , and is the first golfer to win consecutive U.S. Opens since Curtis Strange in 1988 and 1989 . He is also the first player ever to win the U.S. Open having triumphed the weekend before. “I think it was a big win,” Hook says. “It was a big statement by myself. I'm proud of the way I played, the way I handled it.” —pgatour.com

 Killian’s relieved when he can finally escape the thralls of a reporter of Palm Beach after she questions him about his game at Shinnecock Hills, but at this point, the questions are no different than the zillion other questions he’s been asked since he’d gained yet another win the day before. He’s relieved when he can finally mingle with the people he'd rather mingle with—namely his friends and the gorgeous blonde who's been checking him out from the other end of the room.

 A few other people stop him along the way to congratulate him, but finally he manages to slither his way through the crowd. First, he has to greet Locksley, who he somehow hasn't really spoken to since the other night before the game, with a hug and a hearty clap on the back. “Good game, mate.”

 “You had a nice play too, Hook, but only after you almost fucked it up in the first round,” Locksley taunts playfully with a laugh.

 Killian shakes his head, chuckling. “And yet, I still beat you by two strokes,” he reminds him, lifting a glass of wine from a waiter's tray before turning towards the dinner table.

 “Because I let you,” Robin remarks with a grin.

 “You're just still sore I reclaimed the number one ranking at the Memorial,” Killian retaliates before taking a sip of his wine.

 Robin sighs, and Killian pats him on the arm and steps away in the direction of the woman with the long blonde curls and a stunning black dress.

 She’s smiling radiantly as he reaches her, finally, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. “How's my beautiful good luck charm?” he asks, and her cheeks are tinged with blush as she wraps her arms around the back of his neck. Killian had lost his lucky glove the same week he’d lost his number one ranking, but he was able to win it back in Ohio, the same week Emma first joined him on the tour. Needless to say, his long lost glove was no longer missed.

 “Missing her star golfer,” Emma answers softly, pressing her lips to his. He sighs into the kiss, missing how she tastes, missing how she feels in his arms. Even though he’d seen her on the greens as she watched him play, and gave him sweet pecks on the cheek every time he could catch a break, to wish him luck, and even though they flew back home together, he can never fully get enough. “I'm also starving,” Emma adds.

 Killian grins widely, a small laugh escaping is lips. “Then come, love. Let's eat.” He takes her hand, leading her to their table where the Nolans and Locksley and his family join them.

 The dinner at the Mills Ranch after a tournament is tradition, the salmon's perfect and the wine is almost as good, and well, Killian doesn't think it can get any better than this.

 Round one of the Open had started out rocky, but he was quick to overcome it. Every shot on Shinnecock was difficult starting with number eight during the first round, the conditions were tough and the courses were long. And normally, he'd rather be out hitting a bucket of practice balls, but right now, he has other things planned for the evening. They fall into easy conversation, discussing golf stats and other nonsense. When Emma’s with him, he doesn't like to let the golf chat drone on forever, but she seems to actually enjoy it and always finds a way to add to the conversation.

 Killian could not have picked a more perfect woman.

 “I have to use the restroom, babe,” Emma murmurs, trying not to announce to the whole table as the wait staff starts to whisk their dinner plates away. She removes the napkin from her lap and sets it on the table as Killian places a hand on her back, leaning in to kiss her lips.

 “Don't keep me waiting for long,” he teases lightly in her ear and Emma shudders, smiling brightly as she caresses his cheek.

 “I won't, I promise.”

 He watches as she gets up and walks away, and Regina rises from the table, informing the group she has to use the ladies’ room as well.

 Part of him is wishing she’d stay, but it doesn't matter. She’ll find out after it’s all said and done. Perhaps it’s better this way.

 “So, things are still going well between you and Emma, I see,” Mary Margaret comments happily.

 “You could say that.” Killian blushes and offers a tentative smile as he reaches into the inside of his jacket. It’s been the most amazing three weeks of his life. The item inside the square velvet box he’s currently grasping onto and slowly pulling out is a testament to that. His cheeks are burning as he keeps his eyes on the corridor to the restrooms before opening the box and holding it over the table for everyone to see.

 The group gasps in shock as they take in the sight of the eighteen karat white gold with a spherical diamond connected by bands which are laced with smaller diamonds. The metal speaks for strength of promised love, and the precious gem speaks of his lady love—pure and one of a kind.

 “In fact, I’m proposing to her tonight.”

 $*$*$

 Emma emerges from the stall, glancing down at herself and smoothing out some wrinkles in her dress. Looking up again as she walks towards the sink, she stops suddenly in her tracks, breath catching in her throat as she presses her hand to her heart, seeing Regina leaning against the counter. “God, you scared me,” she breathes, continuing to one of the sinks to wash her hands.

 The other woman's arms are folded over her chest, lips hinting to a wicked smirk as she watches Emma like she’s up to something. Emma’s not surprised because the woman’s been glaring at her all night. She’s just not sure why.

 She tries to ignore the brunette, but Emma can sense her deadly stare, and it gives her goosebumps. She dries her hands with a paper towel and throws it away before moving towards the exit.

 Regina suddenly steps in her way.

 “What is your problem?” Emma asks bluntly, her brow arched in confusion.

 Regina grins, a wide, devilish grin that sends a shiver down her spine. “I’ll tell you what my problem is.” She steps closer, dropping her arms and engaging Emma with a threatening stare. “My problem is your intentions with Hook.”

 The lines of Emma's forehead rise, and as she studies the woman’s face, it dawns on her—Regina knows what she’s up to. “What are you talking about?” she feigns innocence, hoping she is wrong about her theory.

 Regina's grin only widens. “Tell me, Miss Swan, how exactly do you sleep at night knowing you're about to break Hook's heart like you've done to several others?”

 Emma starts to grow angry as she crosses her arms, glaring at this woman defiantly. “I care about Killian.”

 Regina mocks her with a dramatic nod. “Right I can see that, and does your sister know that?”

 Emma's eyes widen, her face going pale, heart dropping to her stomach. “How did you—”

 An evil, hearty laugh escapes Regina's lips as she makes a gesture with her hand, as though she's a goddamn queen or something, and starts strutting past Emma across the restroom, away from her and the door. “Let's just say, I have friends in high places. Friends who know how to dig up dirt.” She spins around on her heels, her smile never fading. “But I guess you already know how to do that too. Because why else would you be here? You certainly did not fly here on a whim.”

 Emma's blood sizzles, but at the same time, her stomach is clenching with fear. “You don't have anything on me,” she challenges.

 “You’re right, I don't have anything on Emma Swan.” Regina resumes her previous movements, slowly pacing back and forth. “Except that she was tossed around to different foster homes until she was sixteen when she and her sister, Milah Raven, were adopted by Ingrid Frost, and then went to live with Mal Page after Ingrid died in a tragic accident. Then Emma and Milah left for Boston after graduation and became bartenders,” Regina adds, her nose scrunching up in distaste. “But after that, there is nothing on Emma Swan and Milah Raven.” Regina turns and looks at Emma again. “It turns out there’s a huge gap of time from when you and Milah left Boston in 2016 to when you both came here.” She lifts her chin, perching it in her hand and rubbing her fingers over the skin like she’s solving a mystery. “I found this to be very curious, so I had my friend dig even deeper. Milah’s been married five times in the last two years, using five different identities and she divorced each one because of adultery, running away with their money. And all of the husbands were connected to your aliases. Assistant, gardener, housekeeper, student. It’s a very clever setup really. I do have to give you and your sister props for that,” Regina says approvingly.

 “You have no proof,” Emma scowls, not believing the audacity of this woman taking the initiative to dig up dirt on her and her sister.

 “Oh, but I do.” Regina pulls something out of her pocket bag, and presents it to Emma—a manila envelope. “You see, everything in here is proof of what you've been up to.”

 Emma takes it and pulls out the papers, scanning them over. Sure enough, Regina is right—she has everything from their first con to when Milah fled from Storybrooke after the divorce.

 She closes her eyes briefly and takes a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She’s totally fucked. So, with acceptance of this and with a feeble voice, she asks, “How much do you want to keep this to yourself?”

 Again, Regina laughs, the menacing sound slithering over Emma’s skin. “Oh, honey, you think I did this to get a cut of the money? You forget I inherited this club and come from a wealthy family of high stature. I have all the money I could possibly need.”

 Emma’s jaw tightens, not sure what else to offer this woman. “What do you want, then?”

 There is no longer a smile on Regina's face, instead it’s replaced by anger and irritation. “It’s simple really.” Her tone is serious and threatening, and Emma can feel the effects of her words slithering all over her skin. “You see, if you break Killian’s heart to the point of devastation, he may stop doing the things which he loves. He may sell his yacht, he may stop coming here to the country club, and who knows, he may even stop playing golf. If that happens, I lose my members, and the Mills Ranch suffers because of it. And I will not allow some skinny blonde twat to ruin everything my family has built.” Regina steps closer, her eyes cold and steely, until she’s only a hair's breadth away from Emma. “I want you to call off the con. If you don’t, I will let everything in this envelope leak to the press and the police, so your newest fashion style will be orange jumpsuits as you both rot behind bars,” she threatens through clenched teeth. “Is that clear?”

 Emma tries to gulp, but there's a large lump in her throat and her mouth's as dry as sandpaper, so all she can manage is a nod as she hands the documents back to Regina. “Like crystal.”

 The woman steps back, sliding the papers into the envelope, shoving it into her purse and flashing Emma a superficially sweet smile. “Good. I'm glad we’re on the same page.” The woman walks out of the restroom, leaving Emma completely frazzled.

 She takes a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves as she heads for the door. At first, nothing but anger takes over her, but when she escapes the restroom and sees Killian standing there with his gorgeous smile as he extends his hand to her, she relaxes immediately. Emma takes his hand as he leads her across the room, and she starts to feel guilty, her heart full of regret.

 She also feels like a failure.

 Four weeks down the drain because she made one simple mistake. She used her real name. Why didn't she just listen to Milah, why did she have to be so naive? Now their secret is going to destroy them. She's not sure what will happen now. Three weeks ago when she had decided to get on that jet, she made a vow to herself—to not get attached. She wasn't going to let Milah down, and so far everything has been working perfectly. Emma had been so close, she could taste it. Now it doesn’t matter. Now she will have to end the con and probably go back to Boston. She'd probably go back to being a bartender making minimum wage because that and conning are all she knows.

 Killian leads Emma out the door to the golf course, and she eyes him in confusion as they walk towards the practice range. “You want to practice? That’s kind of difficult to do considering you don't have your golf clubs with you.”

 “No, I won’t be practicing tonight. You'll see, love.”

 The sharp colors of the sunset spread across the sky as Killian walks her to the very same spot Emma was when she was practicing her golf swing . The very same spot where they officially met.

 Emma gulps when she sees the red rose petals on the grass turf, shaped like a giant heart, and her brows weave together; she’s still perplexed. “Killian?”

 When they reach the petals, stepping inside the heart shaped trail, he turns to her and takes her hands in his. He appears to be a nervous wreck, flashing a frail smile. “Emma, I brought you here because… this is where we met.”

 “Technically we first met inside the club,” Emma reminds him.

 Killian lets out a suppressed laugh, his cheeks colored with blush. “Well, if you want to get technical, we can go inside and I can ask you in front of everyone.”

 Emma raises a brow, her voice shaky as she speaks, but she has a feeling she already knows the answer. “Ask me what?”

 He takes a deep, wobbly breath, his beautiful cerulean eyes piercing into hers, and she can actually feel his hands trembling. “Emma, the first time I saw you was when you were walking along the beach as I was walking down the docks. You were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, you looked like an angel. You still do.”

 Emma’s eyes widen; he’d never told her this before. She’d thought the first time he’d seen her was at this very country club. “You saw me before we met?”

 Killian nods. “I did. And ever since then, I’ve been drawn to you like a moth to a flame.” His voice cracks as he continues. “My entire life has been nothing but loss and golf and traveling, and I’ve always had everything I ever needed. But, I always felt like I was missing something. I’ve always craved to have someone by my side...” he pauses briefly, swallowing hard and exhaling another deep, quivering breath to gain some more courage, “...someone supporting me and encouraging me, and not just because they have to or because it’s their job. The best part of winning the Open was not the prize money or the cup or even the ranking; the best part was having you there by my side. I’ve always wanted someone to share all of my experiences with, someone I could also support and encourage along the way. I’ve always wanted to have someone along for the ride.”

 Killian takes another shaky breath and gets down on one knee, looking up at her with stormy eyes. He takes out a small, black velvet box, opening it up to display what's inside—a stunning white gold diamond ring. “Emma Swan, will you do me the honor of being by my side from this day forward? Will you be my wife?”

 Emma gasps, not believing he’s actually proposing after a month, and right after Regina had given her the ultimatum to end the con. She's been waiting for this moment ever since she’d decided to be primary, but now she realizes she was never really prepared. And she certainly can't let Killian see anything but pure shock, so she has to play her part to the tee. Luckily she’s genuinely surprised by his proposal, but for different reasons than he may believe. “Killian, are you crazy?! We’ve only known each other for a little over a month and we’ve only been dating for three weeks?! We stayed in separate hotel suites, we haven't even had sex yet and now you want to get married?!”

 “Emma, I know it’s crazy, my whole life has been crazy, but being with you calms me more than I can even describe. I’m crazy in love with you. My heart aches at the mere thought of not being by your side.” He offers a soft smile, glancing down at the ring. “And we haven’t had sex yet because I never want you to feel pressured or rushed.” He peers up at her as though he’s afraid of what her reaction will be.

 “Says the man on one knee asking me to spend the rest of my life with him,” she breathes, still bewildered it only took one month.

 This is by far a record for her and her sister. And she didn't have to make up any fantastical lie to speed up the process. Normally Milah tells the mark she’s a catholic and doesn't believe in sex before marriage. With their former marks, knowing sex was off the table until then suddenly made them a willing participant when it came to marriage. One time Milah even learned French and faked an accent, leading the mark to believe she was about to be deported. She's even gone as far as telling a mark she had an incurable illness when three months had gone by and she still had no ring on her finger to show for it.

 “Emma, if you say no, I would understand, and we can go back to the way things were, I just… I want you to know I’m in this for the long haul. I will never abandon you.”

 Her heart tightens at the sincerity of his words. She knows she should say no. She knows that everything could easily go up in flames, but she also knows she’d made a promise to her sister. And she refuses to let Milah down. She refuses to accept failure.

 “Love, it’s okay if you’re not ready—”

 “Yes,” Emma blurts the word out, quickly cutting him off. “My answer is yes. I will marry you.”

 Killian’s face lights up, a smile blooming over his lips. “Really?”

 She nods with certainty.

 His reaction is infectious, and she grins as he slides the ring on her finger, securing it in place before rising and pulling her into a kiss. Emma responds, parting her lips for him and returning his affection, but her heart feels very heavy, and Regina’s threats are weighing on her mind. If that woman finds out about this, the whole thing will be ruined.

 Pulling away, Emma gives him a tentative smile, as he blushes back at her.

 “Love, we don’t have to get married straight awa—”

 “But, I want to,” she assures, cutting him off. “I think we should.”

 He scans her eyes, appearing to be surprised by this. “You really want to?”

 Emma nods. “I do. I don’t want a big wedding. You have a break from the tour, and I don’t want all of the publicity. In fact… I just want a small, simple wedding with only a couple of witnesses,” she says. “So maybe we could just elope? You know, not tell anyone until after it’s done. Then later on, we can have a big wedding with everyone there,” she offers, hoping he will accept her suggestion— praying he will accept it.

 Killian’s lips crack into a wide grin, and a swarm of relief rushes over her. “My love, I believe you’ve just read my mind,” he murmurs, his voice completely wrecked as he presses his forehead to hers.

 Emma’s eyes widen in bewilderment. “Really?”

 He chuckles. “Really. You are absolutely right. It will be difficult to get married while I'm on tour, with reporters and fans all over us. I do not wish to do anything that will make you uncomfortable or want to run,” he confesses, curling his hands around her hips. “I just found you and I’m not letting you get away so easily.”

 Emma laughs and sighs into him as she presses her hands against the warmth of his chest. “I haven’t ran yet, have I?”

 “No, ma’am.” His lips crash into hers and she sighs pleasantly, indulging in the kiss and pulling him in deeper. And to think, she was sure everything was ruined. Turns out it's just the beginning.

 They reluctantly pull away, catching their breaths, and Killian takes her hands in his, eyes buzzing with excitement. “It’s settled then, we’ll have a discreet wedding. But Mary Margaret and David can know and be witnesses, do you agree?”

 “Yes, of course,” she answers, swallowing thickly.

 “No worries, they can keep a secret. And whatever we do, we can’t let Regina know.” Emma’s eyes snap to his; she’s taken off guard by his words. “Her friend is a reporter, so if she finds out, we can say goodbye to a private wedding.”

 Emma nods in agreement, sighing in relief and grinning from ear to ear. She’s so glad they’re on the same page. “Then we will make sure Regina doesn’t find out.”

 $*$*$

 Emma is wearing a giddy smile as she’s making breakfast in the kitchen at the condo the next morning. She’s done her best to forget about Regina’s threats and she’s decided to remain confident knowing Regina will not find out about the wedding until it’s too late. Regina won’t know any better until Milah and Emma are on their way to Hawaii.

 Emma’s heart hurts at the thought of leaving Killian. But she has to ignore those feelings. She is not allowed to feel that way about him. She has to remain positive.

 She slides some plates of food on a tray, along with a glass of orange juice. She’s made all of Milah’s favorites—eggs benedict and french toast—and sashays down the hall to Milah’s bedroom bearing the tray of food.

 “Milah… wakey, wakey, eggs and bacy,” Emma chants as she balances the tray with one hand and stealthily turns the doorknob with the other. Using her back to open the door, she shuffles inside the room and approaches Milah’s bedside.

 The brunette’s eyelids are flickering open and she groans as Emma offers a big, bright smile.

 Milah yawns, her features creasing in confusion as she props herself up on her elbows, seeing the tray of plates in Emma’s hands. “You brought me breakfast?” she asks groggily.

 Emma nods and places the tray in Milah’s lap. “Breakfast that I made myself. I even cooked your favorite—eggs benedict and french toast topped with strawberry syrup and whipped cream.”

 Milah’s sleepy eyes light up and she sits up even more, leaning back against the headboard as Emma hands her the steaming mug of coffee. Milah takes a slow sip, closing her eyes to savor the taste. After a few seconds, her eyes fly open and she looks at Emma suspiciously, brows weaving together as she speaks very slowly in an accusing tone. “What did you do?”

 Emma shrugs casually as she sits besides Milah, looking down at her left hand. Pursing her lips she toys with the ring on her finger. “Can’t a girl just wanna do something nice for her sister?” She stands up and reaches the head of the bed, whisking her left hand very casually at the tray. Milah’s chewing on a bite of french toast as she watches Emma’s movements. “This was really nothing.”

 The brunette’s eyes fall on Emma’s hand and widen in shock. Milah quickly takes Emma’s hand, stealing a closer look. “He proposed?!”

 “Well, I don't like to brag, but…” Emma answers nonchalantly before returning her gaze to Milah, a broad smile crawling across her lips, her words louder than before. “Killian proposed!”

 Emma hadn’t been quite sure how Milah would take this information, but when the brunette moves the tray to the bedside table, there’s a natural eruption of excitement between the two of them—lots of jumping up and down on the bed and screaming and laughing and hugging.

 Their plan is set in motion, and Emma’s doubts are instantly vanquished. She’s got a bag packed for when she and Killian elope; she's not sure when and where, only that it will happen. And soon it will be time for Emma and Milah to start packing all of their belongings and leave Palm Beach.

 “Hawaii, here we come!”

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