#two brothers walking with the ghost of Christmas past

[franksgiero]

Not the honk shoo honk shoo photo shoot is this fuckinf real and why did they say yea I’ll hold that little lantern and squint easy no problem

[captain-mj]

You had a very short tiktok series about Gaz watch a true crime documentary about the Riley Christmas murders and one regarding ale talking about how they had a “demon” take out the Zaragoza cartel.

I’ve always wanted to see that expanded on if you could?

Hey Rose!

Gaz was politely listening to something on his phone. His earbuds had died and he couldn't find his normal headphones. He wasn't allowed to use his work ones and while normally he'd do it anyway, his phone didn't have the right adapter for it.

"And the youngest son, Tommy Riley, was found shot dead with the rest of his family. The military covered it all up. There's no evidence that wasn't redacted. What could they be hiding?"

Gaz could've swore he heard Tommy Riley before. But right now, he couldn't quite place it. He could blame it on fatigue.

Ghost walked in and stood near by. He stayed silent as he watched over Gaz's shoulder.

Gaz paused, feeling himself being watched, before relaxing immediately. "Hey, Ghost."

Ghost hummed. "What are you watching?"

"True crime documentary." Gaz answered. "Want to watch with me?”

Ghost thought about it for a minute before sinking into the chair with him. "Sure. Keep playing."

Gaz turned the captions on and raised the volume just a little. Ghost watched with him, staring impassively at the screen.

"What about his oldest brother?" The second host spoke up. "You mentioned they had two sons."

"This is all we have." A family photo of a blond woman, brunette man and their two children. She looked a bit off, almost like she hadn't been expecting to take a photo. Her hand was on a little boy's shoulder. His wide brown eyes were staring at the camera. His hand was on the slightly smaller boy's arm.

"That's it?"

"Yep. Everything about him was apparently burned. No real explanation for it."

"You keep saying him. Who is him?"

"S. Riley. It's all we have. According to the people from his home town, he was unremarkable. just... some guy. For some reason it seems, his school records were burned. His history in the military was burned. And, oh yeah, his medical records, several pages long apparently, and that's just his childhood medical records, were also burned. All different fires. All within the same week." It was clear the implication and it was now hitting Ghost that this was his fucking case.

Yikes.

Gaz laughed. "Military cover up, right Ghost? They blame everything on that."

"This one actually was."

Gaz looked unsure. "You know about this?"

"Yeah. Quite a bit." Ghost got up. "Poor bastard is dead. Died a long time ago. Military just didn't want people to know their hands were in it." He got up. "Don't listen to Ghost stories too much."

As he was leaving, he could see something in Gaz's eyes. A thought.

S. Riley.

Ghost didn't have to deal with his past for a while before he and Alejandro were staking a place out. Valeria were said to be around and that was all the excuse Alejandro needed to be there.

"You ever hear about the Zaragoza cartel?" Alejandro asked, using a hushed tone. It was clear this wasn't reverence. He was baiting Ghost into asking him to tell a cautionary tale or ghost story.

Ghost grinned under his mask. "No. Tell me."

Alejandro launched into the story with a rather good amount of showmanship. There was shockingly little embellishment, but with Roba, there wasn't much need for it. He went over the torture the men, Ghost included, endured. The drugging, the assault, the beating and fighting.

"What happened to them?" Ghost asked on cue and he could see Alejandro smiling.

"A demon. Wiped them all out. Said he wore a..." Alejandro trailed off. He glanced at Ghost. He was a smart man. But when Ghost responded by tilting his head and waving him forward to continue, he seemed to realize that the British man in front of him most likely would not have been in the middle of Mexico at the time. It made no sense. "Skull mask."

"To mock Roba?"

"Rudy thinks so. I don't."

"Why do you think he wore it?"

"I think he was a dead man." Alejandro answered. He sighed softly and his eyes closed. "Forgot how boring stake outs are."

Ghost hummed. "If you want, I could take first watch? Might be good for you to go sleep."

Alejandro nodded. "Might be a good idea." He moved his stuff and managed to lay down.

"Don't let Manuel Roba bite." Ghost grinned.

Alejandro laughed and closed his eyes. Only a moment later, his eyes fluttered open. "Did I say his first name?"

"Nah. I heard of him before. Just wanted to keep you entertained." Ghost patted Alejandro's legs and stood up. He stretched and shook his own legs out before continuing to watch out the window.

Alejandro seemed to let it go.

Soap saw the scarring on Ghost's chest where the autopsies and unnecessary surgeries had gone on. Ghost thought Soap was going to vomit when he saw the extent of it. He didn't think it was because Soap thought it was gross, his scot loved the Glasgow scars on his face and had kissed the scarring on his throat with a vigor Ghost didn't understand. But more, the fact that Ghost had clearly been tortured in such horrific ways.

Soap opened his mouth and closed it a few times before swallowing. "The people wh-"

"Dead. Killed them myself, don't worry."

"They still hurt?"

"Sometimes. I've started taking care of them more and it's not as bad."

Soap traced the mortuary scars first and then the scarring over his ribs. "This feels personal."

"He hated me because I wouldn't break. Fucking Cartel." Ghost answered softly and leaned into him. "Come on. Do you really want to spend our time together doing this?" He leaned down and kissed him.

"They also make the Glasgows?"

"Yeah. The venom scarring was my dad though."

Ghost thought Soap was going to blow up at first. Instead, he just spent the rest of their time kissing all over Ghost as if he could make up for lost time.

Ghost cheekily recommended one of his documentaries to Rodolfo. It was one of the ones that dropped part of his name in it but also insisted that he was the one to murder his family in cold blood. The documentary was one of his least favorite and Ghost had spent more than a few nights after watching it staring at his ceiling, feeling sick. But it was one of the ones that was most misleading. Rudy was smart, but the doc was mixed into several others as well so it wasn't obvious.

Rodolfo didn't call him out on it, but there was something in their eyes when they bumped into each other again. He knew. Just needed a shred of evidence before outright asking Ghost if he murdered his family.

Alejandro invited everyone to his Ranch for a celebration. There was nothing to celebrate, but they all were on leave for the first time since Los Almas.

Rodolfo thanked Ghost and Gaz for the true crime documentaries they had been sending him.

Gaz, who had started to become very suspicious about this whole thing, nodded. "Yeah, thank you for the recommendations too. The Riley Family Christmas murders were an interesting one." They both glanced at Ghost.

So did Price. He was frowning, looking almost panicked. He assumed, reasonably, that this would be a triggering topic for Ghost.

Ghost laughed. "Yeah. That's a good one. Whole family, dead and mutilated. Then they find the oldest son burned somewhere else? Fucking hell." He walked away, getting one of the spiked drinks. He also made sure to pass Price to nod at him. Price got worried and he didn't want him.

Alejandro started the tale about the Zaragoza Cartel to everyone and Soap listened to the methods of torture.

"Wait. Did you say they'd... autopsy them? While alive?"

Alejandro grinned, thinking Soap was just into the nitty gritty details. "Yeah. It was so they could put drugs directly into their organs."

"Huh... Ghost, did they do that to you? The drugging I mean."

Pause.

A pin drop could be heard.

"Yeah. Nasty hallucinogens."

"Huh. Wonder if the two groups had the same idea."

Price was catching on and he quickly glanced at Ghost who gave him The Nod. Politely, he waited until Alejandro was done before asking. "You hear about the people that escaped?"

"Yeah of course. All brainwashed though. They were half insane."

"You hear about the one that did though? Truly escaped? He was an SAS member. Vicious young Sergeant at the time. I was his Lieutenant." Price took a drink. Unlike Alejandro, there was no showmanship. No excitement. Instead, there was a string of sadness.

"S. Riley. I remember finding his patch. Right next to a bunch of bloody dog tags. Roba knew I was following him and he wanted me to know he hurt or killed some of my members. Fucking bastard."

There was a sharp moment. Everyone was putting things together.

"Riley escaped. They found him, mostly dead, wandering the border. We brought our boy home along with some of those brainwashed bastards. Didn't know they'd be targeting civilians."

Gaz gasped so loud Rodolfo jumped. "The military coverup."

"I told you not to listen to Ghost stories." Ghost smiled, taking a drink.

Price hummed. "You know, Simon. I was scared when you went missing a second time. Until I heard that cartel had been wiped off the map and I found you knee deep in bodies."

"Aye. They made one mistake that evening. Just one."

Soap asked the question, right on cue, even if he didn't know it. "Just one?"

'Yeah. Really shouldn't have killed my mom. Might've let a few of them live if they hadn't."

"Mary was a lovely lady." Price clicked their bottles together. "Raised a lovely son."

"You recommended us documentaries over your own family's murders??"

"I have to keep myself entertained somehow."

[iamjacksragingboner]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: Johnny's horrific catcalling and borderline harassment that he thinks is flirting

A/N: Going away for a few days to visit family for Christmas, so I will supply you with this first little chapter of the Cowboy Soap fic to keep you fiends satiated. Tried spending a little longer on the writing so hopefully it flows a bit better! Also, this is my first time writing Ghost, so look forward to more of him as he pops in through this fic :)

Clean up people's plates. Wash and dry cups. Pour drinks. Wake up the sorry sod that fell asleep at the bar. Collect tips. Sneak out back to wipe the sweat from your face and smoke.

It was a shift like any other. You sighed, the smoke pluming out in front of you in a tired cloud, then dissipating, and you snuffed the cigarette with the heel of your boot. The afternoon sun beat down on you like a sluggish brute as you smoothed the apron of your smock and stepped back inside, the muffled sounds of clinking glasses and patrons chatting amicably becoming clear once more.

Slinking your way back to the bar, you nodded at a gruff old man who tipped his hat at you, poured him his usual and slid it over to him. In turn, he flicked you a single coin as a tip. It was a relatively slow day in comparison to the usual lively energy of this dusty little inn, and you were thankful for the copious smoke breaks you could cop, thanks to your brother being on shift with you.

The brother in question bumped your shoulder, and your gaze flicked to his figure towering over you, black bandanna covering the lower portion of his face. "You good to handle the place while I pop out for a bit?" Simon asked, putting down the glass he was wiping. "Got an old friend coming into town sometime soon, I wanna go make sure there's a room set up for him upstairs."

You nodded in affirmation, blowing a strand of hair from your face. "Fine by me, 's not like there's anyone here anyway." As proof of this, you gestured to the sparsely filled room, the usual crowd of cowboys having been out for the past week or so. Simon was usually amongst them, but had chosen to stay behind this week, helping you man the tavern so you weren't on your own.

Cowboys were a generally thick bunch, in your opinion. Some of them couldn't tell their dick from their asshole, and you'd dealt with enough drunk and rambunctious cowboys to have a general distaste for the rest of them, no matter how 'intelligent' they claimed to be. All except your brother of course, who was smart enough to co-run the tavern with you, but had enough casual idiocy in him to coexist with other cowboys, yet not entirely enough to bother you completely. In your mind, he was gaining insider info, as it were. You'd never tell him this, however, for fear of copping a playful smack to the side of the head and a night of solo dish duty awaiting the end of your shift.

Simon nodded, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile—he was never one for many words, often opting for silent looks you had to spend years trying to decipher, even now you have moments where you aren't quite sure what he entirely meant—before he patted you on the shoulder as he passed, walking upstairs to the rooms, kept open for travelers and folks too drunk to walk home. In turn, you picked up where he left off with the dishes, wiping dry mugs and placing them in their respective shelves.

From the little Simon had said and the magnitude that he had alluded through a myriad of looks, his friend—Johnny as he affectionately called him—was a lovely man, despite his cowboy career path. Lively, a bit on the rowdy side of things, but he was sure you and him would get along just fine.

The tavern doors open with a slam that you cringe at—you'd have to check the hinges before you went to bed that night—and in waltzed a troop of unruly looking cowboys, with dust in their hair and hands in their pockets; it wasn't hard to tell they thought they were the shit. They weren't all faces you recognised, but that wasn't all that uncommon—most cowboys tended not to settle in one town for too long, preferring a life of travel that you just couldn't get behind.

They sauntered up to the bar with an air of authority and almost pompousness, as if their very presence in here was something you should marvel at, almost as if they weren't the bane of your existence. Almost. You shouldn’t hate them too much; they provided the majority of the income that kept this tavern alive, even helped build the damn thing, but fuck they could be annoying sometimes.

You served the first two their drinks with as little communication as possible; if they caught you in a conversation, you'd be subject to a half hour's earful of their latest travels that you really didn't feel like listening to.

The third seemed hellbent on making his presence known to you, refusing to prowl over to the tables with the rest of his friends once he'd been served, instead choosing to sit and ogle you as you worked. Which was fine, it wasn't as though you weren't used to men's lecherous eyes linger on your body as you worked; wasn't exactly pleasant, but you never felt particularly unsafe, knowing your brickhouse of a brother was usually close by to scare them off.

What annoyed you was the way he would smirk any time your eyes happened to meet, which was more than once. It didn't help that he was attractive in most senses of the word, so you found yourself stealing glances more than you would have liked. Your eyes grazed along his thick arms, dense with muscle and tanned from days spent in the sun, down to his hands wrapped around his whiskey, and you made quick note of every detail you could make out through stolen glances when you were sure he wouldn't catch you. Dirt under the nails. Gnarled and scarred knuckles. Callouses on his palms. Strong hands. Worker’s hands.

You almost felt guilty, sinful even, admitting this to yourself, but he was a mightily attractive fellow; didn't stop you from shuddering when he caught you eyeing him up, and winked.

"Like what ye see, lass?"

Fuck, even his voice was attractive, an accent you couldn't place and a gravelly, casual tone that you were sure rumbled in his chest like thunder or falling stones when he spoke. You wouldn't ever admit this to him though—too many issues in falling in love with a stupid cowboy, in your opinion. You chose to instead keep your trap shut, and turned your attention to pouring another drink for the grizzled old man at the end of the bar.

"Strong silent type? I like it. Means I get ta haver yer ear off as much as I want. Yer not a bad lookin' lass either, I certainly wouldnae turn down a chance to bed a bonnie like yerself."

And just like that, any inkling of a budding attraction that was forming for this handsome young cowboy disintegrated right in front of your very eyes in an instant. You found yourself chewing the inside of your cheek raw with the effort of not kicking him out of the tavern and banning him from ever stepping foot in here again.

"Ye can call me Soap—it's what the bonnies call me—they say I give the best baths, and my massages after are highly rated too, but ye didnae hear that from me, lass."

Grit your teeth. Breathe in deep. Close your eyes. Turn around and do something else, anything else, just distract yourself for long enough for him to lose interest.

A low wolf whistle when you turned around was what did it, made you whip around with a bottle in hand, held high over your head and poised, ready to crack over his sorry head in that stupid fucking hat and his stupid fucking grin that stupid handsome cu-

"Johnny!"

Simon was thumping down the stairs, and you didn’t think you'd ever heard that amount of sheer joy in his voice. That wasn't what caught your attention however. Your eyes go from Soap—who turned at the mention of the name, a beaming smile plastered on his face—to Simon, who wrapped the man in a bone crushing hug and turned to face you with his arm around Johnny's shoulder. Soap's shoulder. You put the bottle down, for your brother's sake.

"This is Johnny," Simon said, and you could practically feel the sunbeams peaking out from under his bandanna.

Of course it is.

Contrary to your expression of shock, anger and mild embarrassment, Soap was ecstatic. "So this is yer bonnie lass of a sister I've heard so much about!"

Go choke on a tumbleweed and die, cowboy.

[catcas22]

Literally Dreaming About the DLC

Had a disturbingly vivid dream about an Elden Ring sidequest, and decided to share it 1) to exorcise it from my mind 2) because there might be some potential here?

Content warning for implied dead kids.

Starts out galloping around Liurnia at night, on the lake just north of the Moonlight Altar. Hereabouts, I think:

Tarnished spots a large cluster of spectral animals ahead and investigates. In the center of the herd is a spectral dragon-hybrid, childlike but in a Ghost of Christmas Past sort of way.

The spirit appears morose and rather confused about her current state. When questioned, she drops a few poetically ominous lines about cold and dark, then mentions the name "The Hunter Michigain" [sic] before she clams up.

Tarnished goes to ask her buddy Kalé if he's heard any local gossip about this guy. Kalé explains that Michigain is a madman worshipping some kind of cold-affiliated entity. He sacrifices to said entity by kidnapping small children and leaving them down an abandoned mine to die of hypothermia (What the hell, my subconscious? I think I might have been drawing on SCP-4666 a bit).

Kalé then proceeds to recount an absolutely harrowing tale of how years ago, his three-year-old nephew was taken by Michigain. Against all counsel, Kalé's brother tried to go after the kid. Michigain broke the poor guy's legs and left him a few levels down the mine, close enough to the surface that those above could hear his agonized pleas for help. Kalé finally breaks and arms up to go spring the obvious trap.

Present day, Kalé recounts that he didn't get his brother or his nephew back, just a leg so mangled he can still barely walk on it. Kalé began the story trying to dissuade us from tangling with Michigain, but by the end of it he's ready for round two now that he has the Tarnished for extra muscle.

Kalé directs us to a set of ruins high on the Moonlight Altar, where we find the entrance to Michigain's mine. It's an absolutely hellish platforming puzzle, where we have to drop down level by level through the entire depth of the plateau, balancing on rickety mineshaft scaffolding while Michigain shoots at us with a gatling crossbow and his goons try to run along the rafters and tackle us off.

Thankfully, there are no visible dead kids, no environment-hazard live kids that we have to avoid friendly-firing, and no kids attacking us for whatever reason. There is, however, an omnipresent sound of sniffling and whimpering, always sounding as if it's just around the corner, sometimes louder, sometimes softer.

Kalé is with us. He moves at like 0.2 miles per hour due to the bad leg, and he'll die in a hurry if you leave him behind. But if you stick with him and draw fire, he's got a big hatchet and a box-fed dart gun, and he's quite effective at sniping the cultist highwaymen as they try to rush you.

Michigain looks like a sort of evil coureur des bois, wrapped up in layers of snow-dusted leather and fur. We never see his face. He never says a word. He fights with the aforementioned gatling crossbow, then switches to a pickaxe when we get close.

Before we fight him, we get a miniboss in the form of his two dragon-hybrid henchmen, both notably bigger and older than the spirit who initially tipped us off.

We finally face Michigain at the lowest level of the mine. The sounds of weeping children are loudest here. If we spoke to Ranni after triggering the quest and informed her of what was happening on her land, she shows up halfway through the fight the way Yura does for the Nerijus fight. She gives a monologue to the tune of "You merely adopted the dark, I was born into it" that I dearly wish I could remember verbatim, then wrecks the guy with Ranni's Dark Moon.

It was only in the process of writing this all out that I realized the two dragon-hybrids are definitely the specter child's parents, who sacrificed their own daughter for the sake of Michigain's cult.

[allycat75]

Happy April Fool's Day, Boston Dumb Fuck! But then it is no longer just a day for you anymore, is it?

You really gave it the office over the past few years, haven't you? Made a joke of your life, your family, friends and fans and look at where it has gotten you.

In honor of this most sacred of days, let's take a quick look back down Untrustworthy Lane, shall we?

You saying you loved love in your SMA article, then taking this massive dump on it. That was awesome!

Also saying you hated yourself in the same SMA article. Too bad no one close to you believed you or intervened. Maybe this mess could have been avoided

Your then fake girlfriend, now fake wifey, crashing the Thanksgiving family celebration at Disney World, where you pretended to be creepy niece-creepy uncle. I am sure your family laughed and laughed at that one

Tried to convince us jump scares were cute beyond brothers and could be easily staged

Also thought it would be fun to hide a misogynistic snuff film behind a dumb chin puppet video

Tried to trick us into thinking being good at Mario Cart was a noteworthy feat, and being bad at it was worthy of derision

Proved Valentine's Day is a joke by releasing a few handfuls of unflattering photos, plus some obvious photshop fails and even 2 or 3 photos that had absolutely nothing to do with the day of forced love. The joke was on you, however, since all that accomplished was to murder so many lady-boners it doomed you to only finding pleasure in your own hands, or perhaps a realistic fleshlight, for the foreseeable future. But you are a big "alone guy" so that should suit you well!

Extending this shameful stunt to the "Ghosted" premiere. That was a double whammy- the little racist, clout chasing twit thinking she was going to walk the red carpet and Ana and Dexter thinking they could save that festering turd of a movie from further embarrassment. Are they still talking to you after that prank?

Orchestrating two ghost kinda ceremonies using only vague descriptions of locations and pictures from family and friends in the vicinity of possible kinda locations, including a very real and special birthday party for a young lady that was probably ruined, but all in the name of a fun manipulation, right? Pepper in some online quotes about getting mentored by RDJ (he's doing a bang up job, by the way), as well as a line in the online version of the disaster of all disaster interviews in GQ, (that if people truly cared, would have put a 5150 hold on you and your dissociated life) and voila! Sham marriage complete.

Continuing with the joke-in-and-of-itself ASP. I mean, having a discussion on antisemitism where your guest chides those who normalize this behavior, just as you shove that poison ring in the camera, symbolizing the unholy union between you and the Nazi wifey. Great job, man!

Almost as good as you wearing the colors of the Nazi flag for your red carpet debut with your charming anti-semetic "bride", fake kisses and all

The best jest, however, was you not even getting to catch up with your more successful friends at the Vanity Fair party because you and that prize woman of yours were shuffled off immediately to the pick up line to be taken home, alone to your fleshlight

But you should be used to not getting into parties. There was the pathetic loitering in front of the CAA and UTA pre-Oscar bashes, but the best prank on yourself had to be the SNL Christmas party, where the wifey recreated the bratty niece look from the first pap walk and you tried to drive a wedge between one of your best friend's marriages (at least Colin has gotten in some good jabs at you on the show), all while the two of you probably were hid away in a dimly lit basement room for 20 minutes, then let out a back door to go home, alone to your fleshlight. And Alec Baldwin and his wife were actually invited. That's gotta hurt!

And just recently being called a "car enthusiast". More subtle than some of your other hoaxes, but still hilarious!

Now I don't know if you signed onto this because of duress or the promise of something great (hopefully not the Gene Kelly movie, because that was never going to fly- that was another trick on you, and even if it was miraculously offered to you, after this, it would not be a good look playing a male chauvinist who preferred young women).

I am sure you have had your fun, but let's hope this time next year you will have long hung up the jester's hat and become a real life boy!

[newyorkthegoldenage]

Warning: the first photo of the five below shows a dead body. If you do not want to see it, either scroll past it quickly or skip this post.

On April 8, 1947, investigators finally found the body of Langley Collyer in his house on Fifth Avenue and 128th St. in Harlem. He had lived there for decades with his brother Homer, whose body had been found some two weeks earlier. Homer had apparently died of starvation. Because the ground floor was completely filled with 50 tons of debris, policemen had to enter through the upper floors. It took them several days to clear the ground floor.

The four-story building was crammed to the rafters with sewing machines, the body of a Model T, weapons, baby carriages, busts, mangled Christmas trees, thousands of books, 14 pianos, an organ, newspapers packed in boxes, and other items. The total came to 120 tons.

The brothers had lived there since 1909, when Langley, a lawyer, was 28. After the death of their mother 20 years later, they lived there alone. They were notorious for their extreme thrift—Homer walked to work on paper-thin soles to save money for the subway, they canceled their phone service in 1917 and, after disputes with utility companies in 1927, they went without water or electricity.

Some time in the early 1930s, they stopped working and became recluses. Langley left the house only at night, leading neighbors to call him "Ghost." Homer went blind and also suffered from severe rheumatism. The two became paranoid, convinced that thieves were out to get them, and installed traps all over the house. It is thought that Langley fell into one of his own traps.

Because the brothers had no heirs, their property passed to the state. The city had the brownstone demolished.

Over the years the Collyer story has inspired films, plays, and books. There have been off-Broadway stage productions such as Mark Saltzman's Clutter and Richard Greenberg's The Dazzle, a nonfiction book, Ghosty Men, by journalist Franz Lidz, Richard Finkelstein's series of drawings of the Collyer house, a Glasgow musical called "Tunnel Visions," which set the brothers' story to a music and light show, and, in 2009, the novel Homer and Langley by E.L. Doctorow.

All photos from the AP via Der Spiegel. Anthony Camerano took all but the top, which was taken by Jacob Harris, and the bottom, which was the work of Harry Harris.

[mykneeshurt]

Haunted chapter seventeen

Christ. Long one this. NOT PROOF READ. I’m playing COD:Ghosts and I’m busy following Keegan like a lost lamb.

Warnings - self-harm/scars/Ghosts past/trauma/explicit smut baby!

Part 18

Small fragile circles being traced on your skin woke you from your sleep. Fluttering your eyes open you saw Ghosts large hand encasing your forearm, his thumb mindlessly tracing a pattern. Stretching your legs you moaned a good morning under your breath. He leant down and kissed your forehead but didn’t respond. ‘You ok?’ You asked confused, he was more of a morning person than you were, it was unlike him to be so quiet.

‘Why’d you do it?’ He asked, voice muffled by your head on his lips. It took you a moment to realise what he was asking. Scars adorned the skin he was stroking with his thumb, a reminder of your youth. You turned into his chest laying your arm over him, ‘if I tell you. Tell me why you don’t sleep?’ He let out a feint of amusement before nodding and placing another kiss on your head.

‘Remember I told you my dad was a bastard? He made me believe everything was my fault. Mum leaving. Him beating her up. How he and my brother treated me. It was the only way I could process the mental pain I was feeling. Physical pain is easier than mental pain yanno.’ You sighed into his chest. ‘I felt like I deserved to feel like that. I’ve done a lot of work on myself, but I still sooth myself by self-punishment.’ Your voice was soft, somber.

‘That why you had the water so hot that night in the shower? Were you burning yourself?’ He asked staring at the ceiling, he resonated all too well with what you were saying. ‘Old habits die hard’ you scoffed ‘can’t help it sometimes, it feels like I’m compelled to do it. Like I have to in order to move on, because I still believe it’s my fault. I need to hurt …’

‘To make amends’ he interrupted. You looked up at him, a sad smile of agreement.

‘I don’t sleep because of nightmares. They’re too real. The pain, the memories. I know you know about my father and what he did to me. But there’s more.’ You rolled off him and propped yourself up on your elbow. Stroking his face you offered him silent reassurance. ‘Was captured by Mexican Cartel, tortured, they tried to brain wash me and two others. Sparks and Washington. They managed to escape but left me, Cartel realised they couldn’t break me. So threw me in a box with a corpse, buried me alive.’

Your face twisted, you tried to remain placid to allow him the space to open up to you. You pressed a loving kiss into his bicep.

‘Used his jaw bone to dig myself out. Some sheriff in Texas found me. Pretty much a blur after that.’ He shrugged.

‘Jesus Christ Simon.’

‘Yeah. I can still feel the box around me, suffocating, the air was putrid from the decaying body. But, the plot thickens’ he huffs, it was almost a laugh. ‘Go home, see my family, ended up meetin Sparks in a pub n we get chattin. Fucker tries to rape this girl was were walking back. He didn’t, I phoned the Police. So, we get back to his hotel, pulls a gun on me, I manage to get out and get home.’ His breath catches in his throat as his body tensed, he was rigid beneath you.

‘We can stop. You don’t need to say anymore. I … I shouldn’t have pushed. I’m sorry …’ the words fall out of your mouth, worried you’ve pushed him too far. He pulls you tight to him, ‘it’s ok. Nothin I don’t see every day.’ He continues, ‘I get home, see my entire family dead. Fuckin executed. All of em. I’m the only one left. My fuckin nephew, they killed my fuckin nephew.’ His fists were tight now, shaking next to you. He looked through you, lost in the image of his family sprawled out on the floor. The Christmas tree in the background casting a poisonous shadow on the scene before him.

You cupped his face as you straddled him, desperately trying to bring him back. ‘Hey. Simon. Focus on me.’ You put his hand to your chest ‘feel me breathe. Breathe with me, come back. Feel my heart, my skin, look at me Riley!’ The commanding tone in tone voice snapped him back. His lifeless eyes once transfixed on the ceiling, now coming back to life as he looked at you. He gripped your hips as his breathing slowed, his muscles giving out beneath you.

You leant forward and placed your forehead on his. ‘I can’t even imagine what that must have been like for you. I’m so sorry.’ You led there, breathing each other in for what felt like a lifetime. That was until his phone buzzed in his drawer. A defeated smile crept across your face ‘better get that Lieutenant.’

Sighing you got off him and led back in your spot in the very cramped single bed. ‘It’s Price.’ He answered the call, a series of ‘sir’ … ‘yeah’ and ‘affirmatives’ left his lips. As he put his phone back on his bedside table he rolled over and pulled you back into him. ‘They’ve found Makarov. Wheels up in an hour. Price needs us in the meeting room ASAP.’ You sighed into his chest, back to reality. He lifted his mask and placed his lips on yours, he was gentle, more tender than usual. ‘Now where’s my Christmas present?’ He grinned.

—

The last hour had been a blur. Makarov had slaughtered a mass of civilians at an airport in Moscow. He’s found out he’d had a mole in his team, killed him and left him at the airport with a US badge. Absolute carnage. You boarded the plane and nuzzled yourself into a corner, Soap didn’t join you this time. Instead keeping to himself, his eyes locked on the floor as he twisted his hands together. You, Soap and Ghost were on your way to Rio, to locate Makarovs arms dealer. Price and Gaz would meet you there in a few days, they were running a lead on a Russian Submarine.

It was all go from here on in. You landed in Rio and the heat smacked you in the face as you left the plane. You definitely weren’t in Wales anymore. Laswell had set up a safe house for you to run your operation from. Soap and Ghost were gone most of the time, they seemed fine together: working like the well oiled machine they were. But when it was the three of you it was … tense. You chose to isolate yourself away, give them their space. It was the least you could do, after all this was your mess.

Standing in your room you looked out across the desolate Russian landscape. Snow was falling, small fluffy white pieces kissed the ground. You were lost in your own thoughts completely oblivious to a presence behind you. Feeling someone behind you you went to turn around but two large hands grasped at your shoulders. You knew it was him, straight away.

He pulled you into him, your back flush against his chest. He smelt so good. He slowly brought his hand to your throat causing your chin to lift, as his firm hold held you in place. ‘Hi’ you whispered. His eyes were black, hungry. ‘Shh’ he cooed as he wrapped his free arm around your waist. His fingers danced along your hips, tracing small burning lines against your skin.

His mask already lifted he pressed his mouth to your ear. ‘I have a proposal for you’ he purred. His voice had never felt so smooth before. You twisted in his grip, seeing him eye to eye. You flicked your lips down to his before he initiated the kiss. It was hard, messy, longing. His tongue fell into your mouth claiming it once more. He held you tightly against him, hands running down your body, wanting to feel every inch of you. Your nails bit at his neck, pulling his hair into your grasp. Anything to ground yourself from the intensity of this kiss. You moaned into his mouth, the primal need for him ever growing.

Not breaking the kiss he began to walk you backwards towards the small bed. You struggled to keep up with his demanding pace as he assaulted your mouth with his. As he backed you up, you came to an abrupt halt. Your back hit something solid. But it wasn’t a wall, it was living. Opening your eyes you pulled away and peered over your shoulder. You were met with Soap, peering down on you through hooded eyes. Your mouth went dry. All moisture seemingly now non-existent. Swallowing hard you glanced back up at Ghost.

‘I think we need to clear the air love’ he said nipping at your neck. You felt Soaps ever growing erection on the top of your ass. Instinctively you bucked into him causing him to release a low moan. Peering over your shoulder you whispered to him ‘I thought you hated me?’ Slowly he gripped your hips, pulling you into him. He kissed the back of your neck ‘never.’

Ghost pulled off your shirt before removing his tactical vest. It hit the floor with a thud as he marvelled at your body, your glowing skin, which was littered is bruises from him. Claiming you. Cupping your face he kissed you again, keeping you distracted while Soap edged his hands to the front of your trousers. Popping your button he snaked his hands into your panties and along your slit. Finding you already dripping with pleasure. A groan rumbled from his chest as he gathered your juices on his finger tips. Ever so slowly he teased you open with his middle finger. You broke the kiss, a breathy moan filled the space between you and Ghost.

Keeping your eyes locked on his you felt paralysed with pleasure, Ghost watched as your eyes screwed together tightly. You bit your lip as Soap added a second finger, his hand traced your jaw before he pulled on your bottom lip. You nipped at his thumb pad before licking it base to tip. ‘I want you to come undone. I wanna hear you. I want to destroy you’ Ghosts voice slipped into your mind, taking complete control. You’d do anything for him. There was no doubt in your mind who was in charge here.

Soap was quiet, focused on tearing an orgasm from you. You felt close, between his fingers inside you and his palm rubbing along your clit you felt the closest to heaven as you could. Ghost gripped your throat a broken moan came from your chest as you clawed at his back. ‘Fuck,fuck,fuck’ you moaned into his chest. ‘That’s it. Let me hear you. Let me hear how pathetic you are.’

Fuck you loved it when he degraded you. When he make you feel weak and small. You were close, Soap could feel it on his fingers, you were becoming tighter and tighter. ‘Do it. Cum on Johnnys fingers love. Let him feel your cunt cum for him.’ He tightened his grip on your throat as you frantically chased your high.

‘Jesus Christ’ Soap whimpered breathlessly into your neck, your ass still rolling into him. You came fast and you came hard. You threw your head back onto Soaps shoulder, panting, shaking. He removed his fingers and brought them to your mouth. Locking eyes with Ghost you sucked your juices from Soaps fingers. ‘Fuckin hell’ was all Ghost was able to muster. Seeing you come undone like that, sweat glistened on your forehead from the heat between them. ‘Get on the bed so I can fuck your cunt.’

Releasing you, you stumbled over to the bed completely blissed out already. Removing your boots and trousers you led on the bed awaiting instruction. Ghost pulled his trousers down slightly before freeing his engorged cock. He enjoyed the power imbalance of you completely naked with he and Soap remaining dressed. He wasn’t in the mood for foreplay, he wanted to wreck you. Flipping you onto your hands and knees he landed the palm of his hand across your ass cheek. A crack of skin on skin echoed in the room. A defiant giggle left your lips as you smiled up at Soap who stood in-front of you.

Ghost pressed his leaking tip against you aching cunt, as he lined himself up and pushed into you. The stretch burnt, your pussy already overstimulated. Soap lifted your chin, his cock met your gaze as you bit your lip. You’d always wanted to go to Paris. You stuck your tongue out as he tapped it lightly. Taking it in your mouth you began sucking and trying to establish a rhythm.

Ghost dug his fingers into your hips, surely bruising you. Not that you cared. He settled into a lunge position, enabling him to thrust into you deeper. Harder. Faster. He pace was brutal. His body pounded against yours, god it hurt, but it felt so good. Your moans bordered on pornographic but was music to his ears. The cracks in your voice, the whimpers, the panting, it spurred him on. He needed you so bad, you were like heroin to him. If he could he’d inject your moans into his veins.

Soap cradled the back of your head as a flurry of praise and expletives dribbled from his lips. He’d missed you. He was still hurting but this? Reopening the wounds had never felt so good. The way your tongue felt on the base of his cock, how your saliva dropped from your mouth, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. Christ. It would be permanently engraved in his mind. ‘Fuck, so good, so good’ he panted ‘almost there.’

Ghost had wrapped his arm around your waist and was rubbing your clit. Small, firm, circles. The sensation was beyond words, the feeling of them having completing power over you? Was like nothing you’d ever experienced before. Ghost upped his pace, he pushed an arch into your back, he watched as your muscles tensed beneath him. ‘Turn over.’

Pulling out you gasped and the sudden empty feeling. Tears pricked at your eyes from the loss of contact. Falling onto your back Ghost lifted your ankles to his shoulders as he re-entered you. Stretching you out again. ‘Good girl … doing so well for me.’ You clenched at the praise sending shockwaves up his spine. He watched as your breast bounced in time with his thrusts, how your eyes were blown out. A filthy grin adorned your lips as you looked up at him through thick lashes.

Soap found your mouth again, pushing back in, feeling the warm walls of your mouth on his sensitive skin. He watched as Ghost fucked you, the sound of your arousal filled the room. Fuck you were so wet. He watched as his cock slid down your throat, bulging, full of him. He caressed your neck, it was gentle, tender, loving. Johnny all over. ‘Gonna cum hen, gonna … ‘ he couldn’t even finish his sentence before he came. Ribbons of cum dropped down your throat as you swallowed. Wanting to take all of him. He withdrew allowing you to breathe. You gasped as he pulled out of your mouth. He planted a firm kiss on your lips as Ghost continued fucking you.

‘Cum for me Simon. Please,please,please’ you begged. You whined as he buried himself deep in your needy cunt. His voice cracked as he whimpered your name, your real name. As he let himself come undone. He reached up to your neck as you felt you second orgasm on the horizon. You were on the precipice of going borderline insane. Feeling your self clench around him you arched your back, mouth open as you moaned and moaned. Repeating his name like some kind of mantra. Ghost rode out his high, gripped onto your ankles, watching as you rambled his name. How it fell so sweetly from your swollen lips.

Soap withdrew, leaving you both alone as he went to go shower. Ghost dropped your ankles and crept forward, his leaning down by the side of your head. He claimed your lips once more, wrapping your arms around him you let slip those three words again. You tried not to say it much, in fear of freaking him out. But what you didn’t expect was for him to say it back, able to hear him this time. ‘Don’t ever leave me?’ He asked desperately. All signs of Ghost now gone. This was Simon, innocent and childlike Simon. You pressed your lips into his with a smile, ‘Never.’

——

A/N: ALL ABOARD FOR PARIS. Does it go? I dunno. But I wanted it in there. I wanna be them ok? Coming to the end soon! Onto 2009 MW2 timeline now. Enjoyyyyyy

[ameonds-dragonn]

Christmas Surprises

Summary: got the idea about Modern Aemond’s gf having a past with his ex brother in law, Harwin Strong. At the annual Targaryen Christmas party, an old ghost shows up unexpectedly. Leaving you alone at the bar and Aemond taking care of your drunken state. Also he suggest something that has you leaving his bed for the night

Warnings: Drinking, legal drinking age, party, sexual tension, old fuck buddies meeting again. Harwin’s sexy ass being a total DILF 🫠 mentions of threesome

@valeskafics since I sent you the idea 🥴

Alicent invited me to the family’s annual Christmas party, the whole family and the employees were gonna be at the house. Before they closed the company for the holidays. Aemond asked me out after last year’s Christmas party. It was gonna be my first big family event with him.

I had spent the whole week getting ready for it, nails, hair, lash extensions, fancy dress, new heels I would kill myself in. This was a huge thing for me to meet the rest of Aemond’s family. I had briefly met Rhaenyra once in passing.

Valet parked my car next to Aemond’s as I walked up the stairs. Criston the bodyguard was holding the door and checking names.

“Wow aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Aemond is in the living room”, Criston smiled and let me in.

Aemond’s back was turned as I walked in the room, Aegon shot up and smiled.

“Damn” Aegon smirked as Aemond turned around.

“You look gorgeous, my love” Aemond kissed me.

“Oh you made it! Here”, Helana handed me a glass of champagne

“Thank you, Hel. Told you that dress would do wonders for you”, I smiled.

She was looking at my chest in amusement

“How do you get them to stay up like that?”

“Witch craft, I’ll show you later” I smirked

It was gonna be another hour before the dinner started, so we stayed in the living room. I made my place on Aemond’s lap as Aegon sat between Dareon and Helana.

“You should have been there, Y/n” Aegon whined at the fact he lost to beer pong to his older cousin. Apparently at some party at college.

“Hey guys” Jace, their nephew walked in

“Jace, your mom needs you again” A deep voice said

I looked up to see my old fuck buddy in the door way. I jumped back in Aemond’s lap, making Aemond. “Y/n, stop moving” Aemond grabbed my waist.

“Hi kids” Harwin grinned as he followed his son.

“I’ll uh be back. Where’s your mom, Hel?” I asked getting off of Aemond’s lap

“Kitchen maybe”’

I seen Aemond’s eyebrows furrow as I made the corner

“Hi Y/n, you look lovely darling” Nrya smiled

“Uh oh thanks. Where’s Ali? I wanted to say hello”, I shuffled.

“Front room. Are you okay? You look sick” Nrya laid her hand on my forehead

“I’m fine” I ran to the front room

I made a bee line for the half bath, slamming the door behind me.

“Fuck fuck! Why me, God? All of the people I could have fucked drunk it had to be Aemond’s brother in law” I sat on the floor

The music was blaring, guests were mumbling as they passed the door. I needed to get out before Aemond came looking. Or I ran into Harwin again.

I motioned the bartender

“I need double tequila shots or a tranquilizer” I whined

She looked me up and down, “What’s wrong? It’s a Christmas party in a mansion”

“Shots first” I sighed

Jasmine was her name, she told me to take some shots and relax. Could be worse. She was right. Too damn right

“Old fashioned, love. Thank you” Harwin sat down.

“Hey you” Harwin said as he waited for his drink.

“Did we fuck when you were still married?” I blurted out

Harwin choked on air, “No no. Rhaenyra and I have been divorced for two years”

I nodded.

“How long have you and Aemond been together?” Harwin sipped his drink

“Year and a month”, I replied

I stood up and went to find Aemond

“There you are, love” Aemond rubbed his hands up my back

The spins started on me, I grabbed Aemond’s arm and laid my head on his chest.

“Alright, you’re cut off. Nrya said you wanted mom but never went to her.” Aemond pulled me with him

“Sorry Tiffany called, must have slipped my mind” I hummed

The dinner went by fast, Daemon gave the toast before we ate. Thanking the employees for a good year and for the hard work. Harwin sat in front of me with his younger son, Luke. I could feel his gaze on me.

Aemond and Aegon went outside for a smoke as the guest were in the ballroom. Helana dragged me to go dance with her.

“What’s up with you? You’re never this quiet”

“I’m drunk, Hel” I sighed as she dipped me

“Y/n, have seen you dance on the bars like you’re Rachel from Coyote Ugly. You’re not a quiet drunk” Helana giggled, bringing me back up.

Harwin and Nrya were dancing, they looked like they were in love again. Harwin had his hand on Nryas tiny waist as they swayed.

“I miss them together” Helana said

“Me too. Wonder if he dropped the dark headed girl? She was your age, Y/n you kinda look like her” Jace said.

“Jace! That’s not a compliment”, Helana groaned at her nephew.

“I wasn’t calling Y/n a whore. That girl was kidna a slut messing with my dad like that” Jace laughed.

“Excuse me”, i pushed past the arguing nephew and aunt. My stomach was turning and I needed air

“Hi baby” Aemond smiled as I leaned over the railing. Letting my guts out

“Shit” Aegon mumbled

Aemond held my hair back as it had came undone from my half up pony. I started crying some. “Hey what happened? Too much again?” Aemond asked

“Yeah sure, Aemond. Just stop asking me questions” I sighed, wiping my mouth. Aegon handed me his breast pocket.

“Thanks Aeg” I looked up at him

“Need me to help you with her?” Aegon asked his younger brother.

“No, I’m good. Just tell mother we’re turning in early” Aemond threw me over his shoulder

“Night kid” Aegon said as we walked back in

“Bye” I hiccuped

The party had to be over, music had stopped and I heard cars driving down the road. I was in Aemond’s bed in his Deftones t-shirt.

“Hey. How you feeling, bug?” Aemond asked from his chair.

“Like I’ve been ran over by a truck”, I whined

Aemond shut his book and climbed into bed with me. Holding me into his chest.

“Good reason to not drink like Aegon”, Aemond smirked.

“Don’t make fun of me, I’m sick” I whined

There was a pregnant pause as I listened to his heart beat. Trying to go back to sleep and to deal with the hangover tomorrow.

“Does my ex brother in law have anything to do with you drinking?” Aemond asked

I jerked up, looking at him like he had three heads, “What?”

“Just asking. You were messing with a guy that kinda described him. And you started acting different when he told us hello tonight”

I looked at him, finding words to say to him

“Yeah. He was my old fuck buddy before we got to, I ended it after our second date. I had no idea he was married to your sister, I swear

my life to you” I sighed.

“I’m not mad, baby. Figured something happened between you two, he kept looking at you tonight.” Aemond brushed a hair out of my face

“I love you, Aem” I kissed his him

“I love you too, drunkard. Now go to sleep”, Aemond bopped my nose as he pulled me to his side.

“I’m not that drunk, ass” I groaned

Aemond laughed

It was silent , besides the ceiling fan and rain hitting the window.

“Wanna have a threesome with him sometime?” Aemond blurted out

“And you call Aegon a dirty pervert. I’m going to Hel’s room” I got up and walked to his sister’s room.

“Just asking, princess” He winked as I looked back to him

I flipped him off before opening Helana’s door

[guitars-and-kaleidoscope-eyes]

In My Life

Authors Note:

I got this idea from a fanfiction written on Wattpad by KGL1404 titled The Beatles Short Stories. One of the short stories on there was also titled In My Life, and I thought it would be cute to do a Paul spin on the story, so here it is!

Also, I’m still working on Here Today!

December 8th, 1981

Paul's POV:

I can’t believe it’s already been a year since my best friend, John, died. All of 1981 has felt like a blur. I can still remember hearing the news that John had been shot in New York. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. In fact, I couldn’t accept it at all. John had been my best mate. Ever since we were teenagers, we had written songs together until The Beatles had broken up. And then some nut case had to go and blow all of those memories away.

Just thinking about all of this brought tears to my eyes. I collapsed back into my pillow on my bed and began sobbing. I pulled the covers over my head and cried harder into my pillow.

I know it feels silly for me, a grown man with a wife and children, to be crying like a child. But I just can’t contain it. And afterall, why shouldn’t I cry? The kids are all at school, and Linda’s seen me at both my best and worst. Nobody is here to judge me, nobody needs me to stay strong at this very moment.

“Why’d you have to go, John?”

…

Suddenly, I wasn’t crying anymore. In fact, I wasn’t even in bed anymore. I was standing in a small backyard. The air was hot and I felt very warm in my flannel pajamas. Suddenly I saw a small boy run outside a back door attached to a house dragging a smaller lad by his hand. I realized, quite shocked, that boy was me dragging my little brother mike!

“Paul?” I called out, feeling rather strange that I was calling to myself.

But he, or rather, I, didn’t hear me yelling. Instead, he kept dragging Mike.

“Paul?” I tried again. I ran to him and grabbed his shoulder, but he didn’t even notice that. I realized that he couldn’t see or hear or feel me at all. I felt like Scrooge when he saw his past self by the ghost of Christmas past.

“Come on Mike!” My younger self called to Mike. I looked to what he was pointing at, and realized that it was a lime pool that had filled with water. My eyes widened to realize what was about to happen when my younger self began to move a large wooden plank across the pool.

When Mike and I were lads, a lime pool near our house had filled with water from a rainstorm. The first thing dad told us when we made our little discovery, was to not go anywhere near it. So of course, when mum went to work and dad went to the shops, Mike and I made it to go exploring. But our exploration didn’t go as planned when…

Whoosh!

My younger self and Mike fell off the plank we were walking across and fell into the lime pit. Without thinking, I ran to their aid and grabbed ahold of their hands, but then remembered that they didn’t know I was there and my attempt to help would be useless. The two began to paddle like dogs until Mike grabbed the side of the pool and tried to grab young me as well, but my younger self couldn’t reach him. After enough crying out however, I soon saw a figure running to their aid, my dad!

Shocked to see my dad alive and well again, I almost said something, but he yelled before I could say anything, “Paul and Mike McCartney! How many times did I tell you boys not to go near that lime pit, and you still did?”

I watched as my dad dragged us two wet lads out of the pool and into the house to give us, as I remembered it, the spanking of a lifetime. I tried to run after them, but dad closed the back door before I could reach it.

Now I wasn’t even in the old backyard anymore. I was back in my old room. It took me a moment to get familiar with my new surroundings, but when I did, I smiled to myself at how everything was as I remembered it. My bookshelf filled with all of my old favorite books, my small bed with the bedsheets just as I remembered them. And my guitar was sitting in the corner of my room. I walked over to it and rubbed the strings with my finger tips. It's still just as I remembered it.

I smiled to myself and stretched out onto the bed, breathing in the scent. But I was brought out of my trance just a moment later when my door flung open and I saw my younger self again. Only I wasn't a little boy anymore. Now I look at how I was when I was fourteen. I sat up and on the edge of the bed and chuckled at myself. I used to be quite fat, to the point that Mike used to call me “fatty”.

My younger self closed the bedroom door quietly and stood against it, shaking and white as a sheet. I was confused for a moment, until I read the calendar on my wall. It was October 1956. The month mum died.

I watched as my younger self ran to the bed and climbed into it, hiding his face into his pillow and beginning to cry, just like I had this morning back home. My younger self pulled the blankets over himself and whispered, “Why’d you have to go, Mum? Why?”

Without even giving it a second thought, I put my hand on my younger self's back and began to rub it. I knew well enough that he couldn’t feel it, but I couldn’t help but hurt for the poor lad who’d just lost his mum.

He turned his head to the side of his pillow, tears streaking his chubby cheeks. Again, I went to give some comfort and attempted to wipe his cheeks, but then remembered that it wouldn’t do anything.

I watched as the little lad cried himself to sleep. I watched him for a moment, then, feeling a bit embarrassed by the gesture, kissed the top of his head gently.

Closing my eyes to do so, when I opened them again, I was in a completely different place.

Now it looked like a church hall. What does this have to do with anything?

“I saw your performance, you were pretty good.” I heard someone say, but I didn’t see anyone around. I turned around, but didn’t see anyone. I looked in the same corner I could have sworn I looked in before, and saw none other, but John Lennon!

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? Now what do you want?” He asked my now fifteen year old self.

“John! John, it's me! It’s Paul!” I yelled.

“Well I thought you may have sounded a bit out of tune. Can I see your guitar for a moment?” They continued, not even seeing me.

“John!” I tried again, but the figures ignored me again as my young self began to tune John’s guitar. After that, he played Seven Flight Rock for John, which as I remembered, was the most nerve-racking I’d ever felt. My younger self looked up at John for a response, but the strangest thing happened. Suddenly, everything seemed to pause. John and I were not moving, his old bandmates weren’t moving, everything looked like statues in a wax museum.

“John? Are you alright?” I called, panic beginning to set in, thinking I’d never get out of this bizarre cycle of memories.

“John? Can you hear me? John!”

Tears were starting to fall down my cheeks and I tried to run to me and John, but no matter how fast I moved my legs, they kept moving away from me, like tunnel vision.

“No! John!” I cried as vision turned to black. I fell down to the ground and curled into myself.

“John, please don’t leave me again!” I sobbed, “Please!”

The ground I was laying on now felt different. It felt like grass. And the air felt warm. The surroundings didn’t affect my sobbing at all though. Not until I felt a warm hand rubbing my back and I heard someone talking to me.

“Paul?”

“Go away!” I cried, not wanting to be bothered or embarrassed more than I already was.

“Hate to break it to you lad, but I don’t think you’re gonna be wanting me to leave ya right now.”

“W-what?” I asked.

Someone was trying to pick me up now. I felt I was leaning against someone. There was a warm breeze blowing against my cheeks and someone was rubbing my back and petting my hair. I opened my eyes and blinked a few times until my vision returned to normal.

“Alive are ya lad?” I heard someone laugh with a bit of wit.

I looked up to see none other than John Winston Lennon there. He looked the way he did in ‘74. Long curly hair, round glasses, and all!

“John!” I said in surprise.

“That’s my name!” He smiled cheekily. “Nice to know you haven't completely lost it yet, Macca!”

I looked at my surroundings. We looked like we were sitting in a field somewhere. The grass was the greenest I had ever seen and the sky was a clear blue with the sun beginning to set in the distance.

“Am I dead?” I asked him, as he began to wipe my tears clumsily in a very John-like manner.

“Well, maybe I spoke too soon.” He grinned again.

“What?” I asked, actually beginning to think I had died and this was Heaven or maybe some inbetween place.

“No, you’re not dead. Nice to know my little Paulie hasn’t changed too much!” He said.

“So, what is this?” I asked, sitting up a bit more so I wasn’t entirely leaning against John, but he still was keeping an arm around my back, helping me feel still in touch with reality.

“I’m not really sure. You’re still back home asleep in bed, but you’re also here.” He smirked.

“So I’m dreaming?” I asked.

“You could say that.” He said, “All of this is real, but there’s still nothing to get hung about.”

I chuckled at that. He was still cheeky John.

“John, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Paul.” He smiled.

“I’m sorry I never got to tell you how much you meant to me. I’m sorry for everytime we fought, I’m sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye, I’m sorry you died!” I said, trying to hold down the tears.

“Hey,” He said with a smile, “You didn’t know! You can’t be sorry for something like that!”

“But I never got to tell you how much you meant to me!” I said, “John, you’re my best mate. I never told you how special those times writing with you were. They were some of my best memories. I love you so much!”

John pulled me into a tight hug. “I love you too, Paul!”

John held me against him and stroked my back and played with my hair for a while. The sun setting in the distance was now going completely down as I began to get very sleepy.

“Go to sleep Paul. We’ll meet again someday.”

…

“Paul?”

I opened my eyes to find myself lying in my own bed back home again. I looked out the window near the bed to see the sun was almost completely down. Just like in the dream. Yes! That’s right! I had a dream that I saw myself and John again!

“Paul?” I heard a soft feminine voice ask. I looked up to see Linda was sitting with me again. She was holding my hand and stroking my hair.

“Linda? I asked, sitting up in bed.

“Yes Paul, it’s me. Do you feel ok? You slept completely through the day.” She said,

I threw my arms around her and hugged her.

“Oh Linda, I love you so much!” I cried, probably taking her by surprise.

“Paul, are you alright?” She tried again.

“Linda, I had the most wonderful dream! I saw John again! I was able to hug him again and tell him how much I love him!”

“Oh, Paul, I’m so glad.” She smiled.

The two of us held each other for maybe three more minutes. I never felt so good in my life. John was safe. And I had been able to tell him how much I loved him. I knew I would never stop missing him, but a huge weight of grief had just been lifted from my shoulders. And that would be enough for now.

[breitzbachbea]

9 for team Ireland and 3 for team Sicily! and 4 for Robert!

This was unexpected, but I'll gladly take the opportunity to dish out some more OC lore!

10 OC Questions

9. What is their favorite holiday?

Harry: SAINT PADDY'S! SAINT PADDY'S! SAINT PADDY'S! It also coincides with his birthday, but he didn't want to hear anything about a birthday party in years. He loves how alive the city is, he loves the festivities and the parade. I don't know if he ever participated with an Irish Dancing Group or if Soph ever did back when she was in one, but he loves the performances regardless. It's about the community, about showcasing and reclaiming an identity that's so often overlooked by the rest of the world. Only downside tends to be annoying tourists who pinch him for not wearing green, but it does come with the upside of socking annoying tourists in the face. So all in all a perfect day! Halloween is a close second though, Harry and Soph are completely unbearable for the whole month of October. He loves to dress up and carve turnips, in general indulge in the feeling as if the lines between this world and the next are indeed a bit blurred in the foggy October evenings ...

Charlie: I think it must be New Years Eve. I don't think he likes most of the other holidays, since a lot of them are church holiday, and he isn't keen on christianity as a whole and catholicisim in particular. (The militant proddies are just as bad as the militant catholics though, and they're much less fun to sleep with for the drama). I thought about whether or not he'd enjoy Lá Bealtaine, a spring holiday, but that strikes me as something that's more likely revived/still observed in the countryside and Charlie is a city slicker. So New Year's Eve it is! He likes all the stupid little traditions, he loves the parties and I think as much as the thought of 'having wasted a year' sometimes sneaks up on him, he is a fan of leaving the past in the past and starting over again. The only melancholic thing is that he doesn't get to have his first kiss with his boyfriend at midnight, tehe! (Team Sicily spends the two weeks from Christmas to Epiphany with Michele's mother Maria near Siracusa).

Paddy: I think Christmas still comes out on top. It has become a lonely holiday over the years, but things have started to look up in that regard at least since 2013. Otherwise I would have said that Easter took the spot, but it's complicated by the monumental happenings in recent Irish History surrounding it. (E.g. The Easter Rising or The Good Friday Agreement, the latter which put a formal end to The Troubles and is thusly tied very intimately with Paddy's life). So it's Christmas! Paddy finds a lot of solace in religion and the community it brings, but more importantly - He's a family man and Christmas is a family holiday! Everyone comes together to huddle together in the warm living room, there's biscuits and tea, beef and pudding! Exchanging gifts is always a lot of fun and he gets to play songs on his guitar for everyone! He's visited by a lot of ghosts of Christmas past, if you allow me the reference, but only because it's always been a joyous celebration of the love and loved ones in one's life for him, so he misses his old friends and family the most during advent.

3. What was their most expensive purchase/where does their disposable income go?

Lorenzo: Penguin. I'm kidding. Probably kitchen equipment! I feel like a peasant who stumbled into Versailles each time I walk through any store's WMF section. I think he has some very cheap kitchen utensils that are near and dear to his heart, because only a bad workman blames his tools. He'll cook you the most delicious meal ever in an ancient pan that's been through hell, but he occasionally also loves the fancy stuff. He does mostly stick to manual things, aka spends more money on good knives and other equipment, than machines. He differs from his brother in that regard. Since his other hobby is playing cards, I did consider if he maybe owns a vintage deck of cards ... I am sure he does, but I don't think he likes to spend his money on it? Like, if it is in an auction house, Lorenzo isn't interested, but he'll pick up anything he finds on a peddler's market or a crammed antique store. Some of his most prized possessions are French suits from 1920s Morocco he picked up in some back alley of Cairo for roughly 2 Euro. TLDR - Lorenzo's most expensive purchase was a pot that costs more than his neighbour's rent for 3 months.

Marco: Penguin. I'm still kidding. It is one of these sinfully expensive designer handbags. Something on the low end for a handbag, most certainly, but still the most money he ever spent. And it's really only to have it like a dragon has gold to hoard! Both Lorenzo and Marco prefer more practical bags, like backpacks and are in general not really high femme. Marco only bought it as an investment and to occasionally look at it in his walk-in closet like a goblin. He also owns some expensive designer brand clothes in general, but nothing out of the ordinary in that regard. He also has put A LOT of money into his sewing machine. He loves that old girl as dearly as Charlie loves his car (I know you haven't made it that far in Italian Affairs, but boy are you in for a treat). He probably stopped using his first one, perhaps even gifted it away to Maria or another friend, at some point, but he's still using his second one and he'll use it until the day it'll blow up into a million pieces. He won't stop trying to repair it for any issue less severe. I was originally going to say it's a firearm, but after I googled prices for firearms, those are actually ... pretty affordable? Compared to the fucking handbag? I think Marco owns a vintage piece or two, but none of those extremely ornate ones, rather things that barely worked and he restored. It's less about the beauty of a weapon, though he likes to admire those in public and private collections. He likes the mechanical aspect and the power behind firearms more than he likes the design. (He'd love those Ottoman Firearms from the 17th/18th century on display in the Landesmuseum though, if only to look at. The thought alone that such a beautiful work of engineering and craftsmanship was a worthy war trophy would fill him with delight). TLDR - It's a fucking Chanel or Hermès handbag, only to look at it and go "My preciousssss."

Michele: Anti-Penguin Measures for his office. Okay, I've run the joke into the ground. I don't think it's his car, because I am rethinking what he'd drive anyways ... I think it's his garden. Agriculture is a money sink, especially when you do it on the big, yet small-scale of Michele. Of course, what he spends, he also wields in produce, but I think he probably puts more money into his garden then he gets out of it. Planting the trees, acquiring the seeds, caring for everything, making sure everything is adequately fertilized and anti-pests measurements. (He has yet to figure out to keep the boldest of Angelo's chicken to absolve a pilgrimage to his fenced in property and feast on his tomatoes, without spearing a chicken like a medieval rebel leader on his garden walls). If it isn't his garden, then it's a piece of artwork he has in his house. Some rare first book collection of Sicilian writing or a historical artifact, something that is honestly priceless because it belongs into an archive or a museum. Something that he has tucked away as well - something that is his own treasure instead of a piece of art to display for status and identity on the wall. TLDR: His garden, because Angelo's chicken are a fucking menace.

4. Do they have any scars or tattoos?

Well. Robert has one scar for sure, even though he gets his ear fixed with plastic surgery. It's practical and he wasn't too concerned about hiding that half the ear was shot off at some point. He has a few other scars for sure as well, especially on his arms and legs, but nothing that is so large that it stands out. I think he has a stupid one somewhere on his torso, something like he burnt himself at his hip on the stove, or stabbed himself in the leg while playing with a knife.

He doesn't have any tattoos, though! I think he should have some, he seems the type for it, doesn't it? I'm drawing a complete blank on what, though. If it's something corny and edgy, then it's something he got as a teenager. A more mature Robert however ... He does love his favourite football club (Crystal Palace FC), but not enough to get anything tattooed related to it. I think it'd need to be a symbol OR a really, really cool aphorism/motto that Arthur told him about. Something historical that he never got into contact with (or didn't realize he did), but which encapsulate his world view extremely well.

[oswednesday]

the first dream was like, i was at a pool party Already pretty scary! and having a good time despite all that when the Cops show up and the whole thing is my middle brother had killed someone in a really extreme sort of way and i got to yell at my mom about all the times i begged for anyone to intervene and get him help with anything and now we're here instead i woke up like wugh, fed the cats sipped some water went to the bathroom then fell back asleep

the second one was i was like in a queerplatonic thing with one of the artists i watch vlogs of, i dont Think i feel anything for them in the Real but maybe i do? it might have been just someone selected to make this dream like Work? or maybe i think theyre cute but wasnt really thinking about it?? ah! handwave to be back on topic, i got a headkisses and Stuff and i was holding tight to the gift and they were all like youre only with me for the Stuff arnt you like teasing and i was like no of course not heres the reasons why <-but that kind of thing my one once really close ex-friend would do like oh youre a parasite (despite defending me publically when other people would say that!) then we got back to eat at their place and it was pizza which i have a complicated relationship so i was like okay got to eat fast but i could sense that despite the date thing being set up the way it was that i was overstaying my welcome their partner came in and started to talk to me and that was nice in the dream but the dream!artist was getting aggro about it in the way this ex-friend always wanted me over when her boyfriend was around but we were NEVER allowed to interact, like she was always like on me about what i wore and how i was sitting and things like that like ??? so i recognize that this dream i was processing those feelings in like a much cooler environment and maybe some Im Jealous Of This Person I Dont Know shaking out of my system

the third dream i was participating in like a cross country event (something i did in my tiny youth because i thought it meant we would travel and had no adult in my life to say otherwise or give a shit about what i was signing up for like i was in 1-3 grade age range is how much of not a shit was given about me level of neglect here) but i got lost and it was miserable hot and buggy and i built up the courage to ask a bunch of kids playing on the side walk if they could go get their parents for me who came out and i asked if they had any deet and they were like oohh youre doing the marathon and they got stuff out and a drink and the commotion brought both neighbors out and i got snacks too and everyone was like congratulations! you can do it! and so galvanized i was back at it and there were a lot of people i was avoiding in like a Gut Check sort of way who wanted to walk with me like thisll turn into a gorn if you do that! kind of warning

then the route cut through a school building that was like an amalgamation of all the schools i ever been to and i was hanging out with two girls who i think we could have been friends if i was the way i am now back when i was younger we were always like adjacent friends but like how much i was neglected along with my behaviors and desire to scrap barrels prevented us from being closer and we talked about that in the dream like ghost of christmas past but ghost of high school past sort of style i suppose gfgdfg

then i was at a setting i dream of sometimes its a little like a fusion space stage, theatre that was large and accommodating desire in my head, the nightmare tends to be not that i dont know my lines but there simply isnt enough time to, i cant find my booklet and i dont know when i go on and i know no one will assist me, but in this one that one ex-friend i mentioned was uncharacteristically helpful with that and we were hanging out with a girl i knew from a different school reading like horoscope stuff and being like #homestuck about it and when we went on we did like improv basically to the circumstances and that faded into like i was a detective but sometime the detective's partner when i was the partner it was like oh god what are my lines situation when i was the detective i was like exploring the area making like Decisions like do i jump in the water to grab these documents do i wander these back alley markets alone? they were lovely pumpkin falls stuff but my phone was full and i had no money and one of the table clerks looked like one of the old men in my child life who were weird perverts to me that my dad and his then girlfriend allowed (like it was her dad) so i just let him talk at me and ignored my discomfort but it wasnt inappropriate talk it was about his wife and his like gourd garden

while this was all going on it was Also interjected with me sitting in like a townhall sort of meeting of like politicians and people who are like Go Team about politics and they were talking and i finally interjected in this big speech that i didnt flub up once and then after i was done i just left into the hall where the theater was, like this great wide hall with white tile the whole thing glowed like from the ceiling lights like the interior of a mid00s scifi shoot

then the final dream was this really involved like magical system where i was attending school and i had like two friends we got sent to like an Untamed Reality and made friends with the Monsters after foiling some scheme and when we got back to our reality like the school we tried to enroll into someone like rich kid rival had been spreading rumors about us, but we had to attend a different school cause despite saving the world or whatever we got exiled/expelled/outlaws from all the damage we did but we had to like get back in to get training so we would be able to stand a chance against the Big Bad but the headmaster of this school was fine with me he wasnt fine with my friends in like a Ew What Are Those bigotry sort of way (one was a snail operating like a humanoid mech suit) and another was like a wood elf but wood elves were more animaloid like shifting beast parts on the body depending on the local fauna and i was like a Wizard from a Respectable Family fallen from Gracecore and i was like well fuck you whatever lets go see if the bloodmages let us in their school, and these ones were like the war/battlemages and he was like one second wait at leeeeast try out our entrance exam as a way to trap us cause he realized the last second he could at least get some money out of us as ransom to different parties or like kill us and get a reward

but when the monsters came out it was like the wood elf knew how to deal with like a savage war hound and had it like on its back tail wagging ready for pets and then a troll came out and we were like hey is he even paying you? yeah man you should be getting paid, and we broke like the magic dome up and out of the area and thats where That dream ended

my final dream was like being stuck in like a hoarder room but i was doing something lewd in front of a mirror despite that, well! then i woke up and was like! okay ! <-starts my day

[tommyoboe]

BRISTOL 2024.

Hello and Happy New Year! Is this a time where one should be making lots of resolutions such as going to the gym and eating vegan food, which will ultimately fall short to the temptation of lebkuchen at Lidl for 20p and the lure of a Knoops hot chocolate wrapped up in an Arket blanket? Don't mean to show off there, but no.

Instead, on a sort of impulse and conversation I had the other day with Cameron, I thought I would write about our recent trip to Bristol that kicked off the new year. Following this up with some music I have recently been enjoying, here is what we found.

We stayed in a delightful Shepherd's Hut filled with everything we needed for a cosy night after roaming the marvellous streets of Bristol. With Wi-Fi included, teas, coffees and underfloor heating for the cool January nights, it was an ideal choice. The neighbourhood was quiet but full of character, and the hut itself was essentially tucked at the back of a residential garden. However, we had full privacy, security, and check in and out was super straightforward.

We enjoyed some excellent food on the harbour from Small Goods, including an insanely good stracciatella focaccia and ginger and lemon curd doughnut to go with a fruity batch filter.

A stroll along the harbour front took us past a fun selection of quirky buildings and barges, then up to Bristol's main shopping centre. The layout was much friendlier than other shopping centres across the UK, with light pouring through a sky roof and a generally more outdoorsy feel. We only stopped briefly to browse a cute stationery store before moving on to Gloucester Road, Europe's longest road of independent shops and cafés. If we had another day or two here we would have tried one of the many scrumptious looking eateries and coffee shops, like The Crafty Egg, Poquito Coffee and Cafe Kino, but we were treated to many sightings along the way.

Here was the first stop, providing us with an array of colourful books, stationery, framed pieces and greetings cards. This was followed by Wild Leaf, a plant haven with expert advice and practically every plant imaginable, including some new finds for both of us to take home.

Ustudio was a huge highlight for. This was bursting to the brim with high quality decorative pieces, from Studio Arhoj's fantastic collection of ghosts and crystal blobs to indulgent Fatso Chocolate to a pristine selection of Kinto glassware and travel gear. I did well to only walk out with some dried lavender for a new pot I received for Christmas, but this Scandinavian feast of wonders had Cameron and I filled with excitement.

After a pause at Tincan for further caffeination, we strolled in the rain back down the street towards the promise of an evening meal. I always enjoy cities where the rain doesn't become a debilitating factor, and rather it is just part of a buzzing atmosphere and people continue with their daily lives with looks of content. Bristol is one of those places.

Three Brother's Burgers was our choice for the evening, offering up an impressive amount of choice on toppings, sides and a whole separate menu for veggies and vegans. I enjoyed the Smokey Bro Burger, with cheddar, smoked bacon, BBQ relish and crispy onions, along with loaded fries and chicken wings, which we shared. This came with a blue cheese dip; although I don't normally go for blue cheese, this sauce complimented the chicken nicely!

Rounding off our evening were some terrific cocktails from The Clockwork Rose. This candlelit establishment had several nods to the Steampunk era with decorative masks and ornaments hanging from an inviting fireplace, but it struck a balance between these elements and a more general feel of stepping into the 1920s, which I found highly comforting. My drink of choice was an Old Fashioned, while Cameron had a silky combination of Canadian whisky, bourbon and espresso all brought together with flavours of maple. Sublime.

We gently rose the next morning and headed over to bustling Bedminster for coffee and shopping. Sweven was our choice for a caffeine fix, with a wonderful selection of espresso and filter options, and a counter of delicious cakes and pastries. Our house filters were so well balanced, with the first containing notes of blackcurrant and butterscotch, and the second watermelon and jasmine. The service was excellent and the atmosphere was warm and relaxed.

On we went through this lively suburb, through corners of street art; board game stores with old childhood favourites like Quirkle, and idyllic houses I would happily to move to in the future. We reached Clifton Village, known primarily for its Suspension Bridge. We took in the view before heading into the village itself for a bite to eat at Foliage Café. The croque monsieur was excellent, fresh and full of flavour. I loved the combination of brunch offerings, convenience foods and greenery.

We ended our trip on Whiteladies Road, including a visit to Oskar Furniture to delight over pieces we would like for our future home and embracing the Georgian architecture more typical of neighbouring Bath.

Bristol is somewhere I could easily do again and again; it has everything and feels truly alive!

Here is an album I have recently enjoyed:

Roosevelt - Embrace. The fourth album from the German musician gloriously kicks off with the anthem like Ordinary Love. Yucca Mesa builds to Paralyzed, a track I couldn't help but dance and dance to. My favourite listing is Fall Right In, which asserts an overwhelming motion of life and the moment. Perhaps fitting as we approach the last song: Alive.

That's all from me; I shall spend my last day of the Christmas holiday watching quiz shows, gorging on treats from the Early Bird Bakery and practising cor anglais. See you soon!

[moonlightperseus]

I get that. I was kind of like "it won't be good, bit it WILL be babs" and that was almost enough for me. I tried. I just didn't succeed.

I am an hour away from finishing the Graceling audio book and I just? Cannot get myself to listen to it. I had to renew it just for AN HOUR. That's my biggest issue with audio books. But everyone's different. I understand you liking them for long drives.

I liked seeing Dinah have a mom lmao. That was literally my favorite part I don't even remember what else happened.

That's fine I haven't continued bombshells. We're in this together 💔 I'm glad you're enjoying the others though!! I forgot actually that I was going to look into buying my brother a zatanna comic for Christmas. So thank you for accidentally reminding me.

I went to them a lot when I was little because all of my big siblings were super into them but then I stopped for a while and only wanted to go this year for art I didn't buy. They ARE fun but also yeah I spent like a solid 4 hours too overwhelmed and just not wanting to be there.

And I DID draw her. I hate it, because I'm not good at what I do. But the cosplayer did lead to me drawing a Dinah and posting her on my silly little art account.

The delay is fine dw. We're equally bad at being timely it seems.

I will just add a quick note though: I was scrolling through Amazon and saw leverage and I ALMOST watched it because of you. (until I remembered that I am a disaster and cannot sit through a single episode of anything and it was a lost cause)

i would like to apologize because it has been basically 2 weeks since i received this ask. i apologize. i have been busy and tired 😔

oh yeah i def have a harder time remembering to read audiobooks when i’m just chilling at home. it’s like. yeah i could put my headphones on and listen while i do chore stuff but that requires me to motivate myself to do said chore stuff 😭 sometimes i’ll listen to audiobooks when i’m alone at work (sometimes it’s a little hard when dogs are barking) or when i go on a walk with my dog and that’s been helping me with reading outside of just long car rides.

i think i started the annual of injustice2 before i went on my unintentional comic break (had a friends wedding and just Life happening) but i need to actually commit to continuing my read. for a little bit before my break i had started on some of the old dc/marvel amalgam comic specials because i think the concept of mashing characters together, especially from different comic universes, is really fun.

oh!! so i was away at the beach for my friends wedding (wild that i am old enough that the friends my age are getting married.) but while we were there my family went to a flea market and i found some of the old guard tales through time comics for 2$ each and i bought three of them. i haven’t cracked any of them open or even taken them out of their plastic sleeves yet but i’m proud of myself for getting them bc they are used (though in pretty good condition) i’m not a fan of the traditional tog comic art but, at least for the one joenicky one, the art is a lot more my speed. and i got the andy and nile cover ones too because. women.

i think i would like to go to a comic con eventually. at some point. a smaller con though probably.

if you ever feel like sharing i would love to see ur art/art account!!

omg i love that you associate me w leverage. i do LOVE that show and heavily recommend it to anyone seeking out a new show but i completely understand you not seeking out a show rn! (if u ever do feel like checking it out i would love to hear ur thoughts but no pressure)

hope you have been doing well in these past two weeks and i promise i will try to not unintentionally ghost you again for two weeks i really kept meaning to reply to this ask but also kept forgetting 😔

[safereturndoubtful]

Wye Downs - Tuesday 19th September

These travel days are very much means to an end, and certainly the English motorways are the busiest and most stressful I have encountered when driving. Not a lot of fun therefore, so it is necessary to insert small moments of amusement, to look forward to amidst the usual drudge of the journey, worsened these two days by heavy rain.

Lancashire County Cricket was washed out today, but the Rugby World Cup podcasts and a couple of others I follow (Classic Ghost Stories, Dylan Album by Album) just about made up for that.

But yesterday morning, after an early drenching walking Roja to Shap Sewage Treatment Works, I was off for lunch with my niece and nephew, Cameron and Annabelle, over from Texas at the moment. They are my brother Nigel’s children, but 22 and 18 years old respectively now, and here with Nigel’s first wife, Angela, who I know well of course, and her husband Ben. We had a good lunch in Wetherall reminiscing on so much fun in Texas, and our various Christmas visits, San Antonio, New Orleans, Austin, in Christmases past.

Then it was a quick pop in to one of my favourite bookshops, Bookends in Carlisle, which has an excellent second hand shop adjoined, to pick up a copy of my good freinds’ book, Extraordinary Places By Bike, hot off the shelves. Hugh and Pauline Simmons have been anticipating the book’s publishing for a while now, and having ‘tested’ a chapter for them I am looking forward to it almost as much as they are.

With my appointment at Hexham Hospital tomorrow morning, I had planned to stay at the Roman Fort of Vindaland, hoping for a good walk in the early evening, and early morning. As great a place to stay as it was, they allow vans for a £5 donation to the National Park, it was hammering down, both in the evening, and the morning, and the night as well, so our hikes were quite brief.

To say the appointment didn’t go as well as I hoped is an understatement. Penrith hadn’t sent the MRI or X Ray through, so the X Ray had to be retaken, and apparently the guy said, no need for an MRI (so what a waste of time and money in the first place). I was then seeing the person equivalent to the same one I had seen in Penrith in January, and went through exactly the same stuff. In January I was told to expect a wait of about 8 months, today, the guy had no record of that meeting, so the wait begins again, this time he estimates, 12 months.

I’ve written to both Cumbria and Northumbria Healthcare, and will see what they say. They do both seem to be in something of a mess though at the moment.

It does however, mean I can get on with travelling, just with a limp, and sticks.. I only really need to home 15th February for the MOT on the van, so it will be an exciting winter. I have some ideas, and will think them over in the next days, but initially, I’m heading to the Dinaric Alps.

The journey was then a 7 hour one down the A1(M) which went as well as could be hoped, except for the M25 at the Dartford Crossing. I knew there was a hold up there, but rather than deviate through London, I opted to sit it out, and in the end I think that was best. Originally it showed as a 2 hour delay, as I joined the M11, but in the end it was only about half an hour.

I’m parked up at a great place also, just 20 minutes from Folkestone, Wye Downs Nature Reserve Car Park. Again it seems, England is catching on to campervan hospitality, the car park offers the night for a £3 donation, either in the cash box, or by telephone magic. There is good walking to, quiet, good paths, and the claim of the ‘best view in Kent’.

[donteattheappleshook]

Captain Swan Fics Masterpost

List below the cut

Find me on Ao3 as donteattheappleshook

WIPS

His

Read it on Ao3

Tumblr 1 2 3 4

Mature widower with good home wishes to make acquaintance of a hardworking girl or widow. No children. Object matrimony. When Emma Swan flees scandal in New York to marry a man she’s never met in Storybrooke, Montana, she doesn’t have any illusions of finding love. But when she’s picked up at the station by Killian Jones, it finds her regardless. Despite sharing his home, his bed, and his heart, she can never truly be his.

Rated M.

Not Broken At All

Ao3

Tumblr 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

Season 1 Neverland AU. Emma is still trying to adjust to her new life as Sheriff of Storybrooke and mom to Henry, who still believes everyone in town is a fairytale creature. When she finds a badly beaten, one handed man while patrolling, she's convinced he's crazy. he is, after all, rambling about fairies and shadows and crocodiles. But when Henry is suddenly taken by what Emma swears (but can't believe) was a shadow, the madman in the hospital might be her only hope of getting her son back. Whether he likes it or not.

Rated M.

***

Complete:

.

(not so) young, drunk and alone

Ao3

Tumblr

“Swan, it’s me. ‘M so sorry I ‘avnent called for… September, October, Nov… three months. Shit that’s too many months. ‘M sorry but I need your help. The sherrffeff won’t let me leave. He says you have to pick me up - well not you but ‘ynow someone. I don’t know anyone else. Oh! It’s Killian by the way. Killian Jones. I don’t know how many Killians you know but I’m that one. The dickhead who ghosted you. ‘Nway, if you could call me back that would be just - awesome. Yur prolly not gonna call me back. I wouldn’t call me back. ‘Nway… yeah. It’s Killian. Thanks.” 

Rated (light) M

***

Barefoot in the wildest winter

Ao3

Tumblr

She wasn’t supposed to come back. It had been a stupid plan, thinking she could get in and out of Storybrooke without anyone knowing she was here. Just catch the skip, bring him in and go back to Boston without her brother finding out that she’d lied about not being able to come home for Christmas like she did every year. There’s some kind of cosmic joke being made at her expense. There has to be for this day and this storm to have led her here of all places, on tonight of all nights.The walk to the building feels all too familiar and she struggles to push back the memories of the last time she was here as she works up the nerve to make her way up the stairs, to knock on the door. There’s still time to run. “Swan?” “Hey, Killian.”

Rated M (E?)

Hello, again

Ao3

Tumblr

Killian never saw a lover more than once, never called a past encounter again after he or she had left, never even got their phone number. He never said hello a second time. All he was every interested in since the loss of his wife was a single night.

Emma had rules. She only ever went to bed with strangers. She didn’t do relationships or friends with benefits or second nights. She’d learned young how dangerous feelings could be.

Neither had ever met another person so clearly uninterested in any kind of romantic relationship as themselves, with so impossible a risk of developing affection. So in the history of attempts at truly casual sex, this might be the first time it could actually work.

A silver!Hook AU

Rated E.

Give me my yesterdays

Ao3

Tumblr

Neal was a great dad. He took care of her and Henry, he showed up to every track and field race, he was home for every holiday. She wasn’t unhappy. She had her family and her friends. It was fine. It was enough. Until her son went off to college and her husband started working late, and a twenty-something year old moved in next door.

Rated M.

The Dick Pic Debacle

Ao3

Tumblr

“Alright, what the hell is wrong with you two?” Will finally demanded. “Emma saw my dick and now it’s awkward.” Belle nearly choked on her drink. “She what? How?” “Neal sent her a dick pic. So I sent one back to get him to piss off. Emma found it by accident.”

Rated E.

It Was Only a Kiss

Ao3

Ch  1 2 3 4

Neverland may kill her. If it’s not her fear for Henry, then it will her exhaustion, or her doubt, or the overwhelming despair that she’ll never get out of here alive, that she’ll fail her son, that she’ll fail everyone. There’s only one thing she’s found that can silence it all, that can make her feel real again. She shouldn’t be seeking comfort in Hook. She shouldn’t, but she does. It was only a kiss. That was all it was supposed to be. But now that she’s started, she doesn’t think she can stop. Not now that she knows what it’s like. Canon Divergent. 

Rated E.

She Came from the Water

Ao3

Ch 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 Bonus

Between his dissatisfying job, a constant battle to keep seeing his daughter, and a history of mistakes, losses, and broken dreams, Killian Jones has no place for magic in his life. But when he pulls in his fishing nets one evening only to find a woman caught in them, his life becomes infinitely more complicated. Is she a siren, a selkie, like his daughter believes, or just another lost soul like himself? Suddenly, his life is a thing of fairytales; beautiful women hidden away in cottages, selkie husbands coming back to claim them, and, just maybe, a chance at happily ever after. Ondine AU. 

Rated M.

How long, love, before you go (part 4 of Lover of the Light)

Ao3

Tumblr

The story Killian and Emma told her parents in part 3, of how they met and fell in love.

This whole chapter is a completely self indulgent piece that nobody asked for but I needed to write...

Rated E

Dare I say forever... (part 3 of Lover of the Light)

Ao3

Tumblr

He’d turned the tavern upside down trying to find her, had scoured the streets for any sign of her golden hair, of the eyes he’d only just been gazing into. But she was nowhere, and the panic started to settle. No. No, it has to have worked. That was why they found the bloody star in the first place - light magic, no tricks, a wish that would send them both home. But she’s not with him.

The reunion of WishEmma and SilverWishHook after the events of Lover of the Light and Ghosts that we Knew. Also affectionately (and agressively) nicknamed Wish Baby

Rated E

Ghosts That We Knew (part 2 of Lover of the Light)

Ao3

Tumblr

What happened in Storybrooke during the events of Lover of the Light. Wish Emma had to go somewhere... 

Rated E.

Lover of the Light

Ao3

Tumblr

After the Evil Queen grants Emma’s wish to never be the Savior, she wakes up in the Enchanted Forest, suddenly the princess she never wanted to be. She wants her real life back, her real family back, and she knows there’s only one person she can count on to help her. A Wish Realm AU.  

Rated E.

Some Cupid Kills with Arrows

Ao3

Ch 1 2 3 4

Emma and Killian hate each other. They have since the night they met. Or at least since the morning after. So Emma is dreading having to deal with them being Maid of Honour and Best Man at her brother’s wedding. But, as their friends grow more and more annoyed at their constant bickering and a masquerade Stag and Doe turns everything on it’s head, the entire bridal party come to a startling realisation: Emma and Killian might just be perfect for each other. With a little scheming and some well-timed chaos, maybe they can stop yelling at each other long enough to realise it too. Much Ado About Nothing AU. 

Rated M. 

There is a Pirate in the Dungeon

Ao3

Tumblr

There is a pirate in the dungeon. All the serving girls are too afraid to go down the steps and bring him his meal. All but one.

This fic is based on a beautiful little story from The Starless Sea that just screamed of Captain Swan so strongly that I couldn't resist. Rated T.

I Don’t Want to Wait Till Christmas (To Love You)

Ao3

Tumblr

Emma’s done something stupid. She’s told her mom that she has a boyfriend and has promised to bring him home for Christmas dinner. The problem is she doesn’t have a boyfriend, she hasn’t even had a real date in twelve years. Luckily, her best friend, Killian Jones, is there to help - even if he has to make her online dating profile himself. AU. 

Rated M.

I Know

Ao3

Tumblr

Inspired by @carpedzem’s beautiful artwork. Emma hasn’t been in many sword fights in her life but she’s won them all. Well, almost all of them. All of them except that one in Neverland with Killian. But she did beat him at Lake Nostos… right? 

Rated T.

Playacting

Ao3

Tumblr

Emma has finally left her awful boyfriend after nearly a decade. But when he makes her meet him in a bar to pick up the last of her stuff, she risks falling victim to his usual tactics of sending her crawling back to him. Thankfully, the handsome bartender is there to lend a hand. A fake-boyfriend AU. Heavily Anti-Neal so don’t read if that’s not your thing. 

Rated E.

Your Pole or Mine

Ao3

(I can’t find it on tumblr) 

Chapter 1 by @hollyethecurious​ Chapter 2 by me

Killian hadn’t really had a chance to make his neighbor’s acquaintance since he’d moved in a few weeks ago, but he had seen her often enough to know how very much he wished for an introduction. Not just because she was stunningly beautiful with her long blonde hair, bright green eyes, and creamy complexion, but because he felt they likely had quite a bit in common, given the odd hours they both seemed to keep. Her current predicament with her parcel might finally afford him the opportunity to connect with her in a more meaningful way than simple waves and muttered hellos. That is, until said parcel caused him to voice the assumption he’d held about her vocation; that her occupation might be the same as his own. Turns out the late nights, provocative outfits, and arrival of a fitness dance pole did not mean what he thought it did.

“You think I’m a stripper?”

Bloody Hell.

Rated E. 

Scrabble and a Great Many Other Things

Ao3

Tumblr

Anonymous AU Prompt: Emma pushed Killian away when he confessed his feelings to her. He’s finally returned home, a bit broken by the world. Will she finally have the guts to tell him what she always regretted not saying? 

Rated T.

Seal of Approval

Ao3 

Tumblr

Prompt: Captain Swan and Snowing go on a double date during the six weeks of quiet in season 4. 

Rated M.

Some Fairytale Bliss

Ao3

Tumblr

Set during Operation Mongoose: Part 2. Missing scene. Emma decides to teach the shy deckhand a thing or two about swordplay. Fluffy smut. Cannon(ish). 

Rated E.

Of Cars and Bars

Ao3

Ch 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

When Emma Swan is offered the chance to go on tour as an opener for one of the most popular up and coming bands of the decade, the last thing she expects is to find that the lead guitarist is the stranger she had a one night stand with five years ago. Musicians AU. 

Rated E.

Stone Hearts

Ao3

Ch 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Emma should have known. She should have known that they couldn’t just go to the underworld and not suffer any consequences. She should have known they’d bring something back with them. Cannon Divergent after 5x21 Last Rites. No Hyde. No serum. No Evil Queen split. No prophecy. No season 6. 

Rated M. 

Just Human Volume 2

Ao3

Ch 1 2 3 4 5

SEQUEL A continuation of my CSSNS2018 story Just Human. Now that Killian is [redacted for spoilers] and Mary Margaret knows everything, what does life have in store for a group of supernatural misfits? With the threat of Gold gone, Emma learns that sometimes just being human is the most complicated challenge of all. Being Human AU. 

Rated M. 

Just Human

Ao3

Tumblr

After her death, Emma wakes up in her home, unable to be seen or heard by anyone. She resigns herself to this lifeless existence until one day, two men move into the house she haunts - and somehow, they can see her. A ghost, a vampire, and a werewolf living under one roof, what could possibly go wrong? Being Human AU. 

Rated T.

The Gardener

Ao3

Tumblr

Emma runs every morning, and the day she runs through the neighborhood where Killian is landscaping turns into something so much more than a daily bit of eye candy. Based on a prompt I can no longer find that was something like “You run by my house every morning and I make sure I’m outside every morning to see you”. Modern AU. 

Rated T.

More

Ao3

Tumblr

Neverland Smut! Set between 3x07 and 3x08. Emma needs the reminder that Killian is alive and well. The fact that Neal is sleeping six feet away doesn’t matter. Neverland Renaissance. 

Rated E.

Six Weeks

Ao3

Tumblr

A Daddy!Killian one shot. Emma has been acting weird ever since they brought their daughter home. Not what you think it is. Cannon(ish). 

Rated E.

Check Ups

Ao3

Tumblr

A series of missing scene from 2x12 “In the Name of the Brother”. Emma keeps checking on Hook in the hospital. She just wants to make sure Gold hasn’t killed him. And that he hasn’t escaped. That’s it. She swears. Cannon Divergent: Missing Scene. 

Rated T.

Pillow Talk

Ao3

Ch 1 2

A post-coital captain swan get talking which leads to some interesting discoveries on both parts. And some challenges. Cannon(ish).

Rated E.

A Woman of Action

Ao3

Tumblr

Emma may not have been a woman of words but she didn’t need to be – not with him. But she was definitely a woman of action. A little fic about Emma appreciating her man. Cannon(ish). 

Rated E.

[ladyelissarose]

Warnings: nothing too serious, in the next chapter though is when we start the good stuff ;) enjoy ”The Secrets of Gotham-Unmasked”

Chp. 24

Alfred’s POV 

 The next morning Alfred had just watched Bruce leave to go see Danny and work on the adoption paperwork, he was content to see Bruce become a little more comfortable with working in the public on his own. It was about time he thought. He made move to walk back into the kitchen to serve himself some warm tea, but that’s when he saw an all to familiar face already there first, Y/b/n was cowering over the stove to see if there was enough tea for himself in the pot. 

  ‘I guess his tracker proved right over all, I wasn’t dreaming..’

 Alfred cleared his throat loud enough for Y/b/n to hear, Y/b/n turned quickly and took in Alfred’s presence, he was expecting Bruce. Y/b/n let one hand fall to his side as the other stretched to scratch the back of his neck as he explained,

 “Bruce said I could come back.. I’ve been here sense last night.”

  “I’m well aware of that.. your watch has a tracker.”

  Y/b/n moved the watch up to his face and examined it,

  “that’s pretty impressive Alfred... you made it?”

 Alfred shook his head no as he gestured for Y/b/n to take a seat so he could serve the both of them tea, he then proceeded to say,

  “No, you made it.. you taught me how to do it actually. But I must assume you don’t remember.”

  “I don’t.. I mean, I remember a few things here and there, but not everything.”

  “I understand. Well, above all I’m very pleased to be within your presence once again. And I wish you a belated birthday, you’re 16 now?”

  “Yup... I feel much older though, but I must only believe that my actions from the past few weeks make me feel that way.”

  Alfred took a sip from his tea before adding, 

  “You look very young and vibrant still young man, I’ll tell you that.”

  Y/b/n lifted a small ghosted smile as he replied,

  “Thanks Alfred. Umm.. listen, I’ll be staying here for the nights when I come back from patrolling.. I-I want to change my ways a little.. Bruce doesn’t want me killing anymore.”

  “Very well.. I’m more than willing to help you with that, all of this must be hard for you, what they did to you.”

  Y/b/n nodded his head and began to tell Alfred everything that had happened to him, from beginning to end, with details and all. Alfred listened attentively the entire time and showed that he was Y/b/n’s support in everything. Soon after Y/b/n had talked about everything it was soon very explainable to Alfred of why Y/b/n was the person he is now, the damage they had caused him was a atrocious and just awful. The haunting nights he dealt with on his own and couldn’t escape, they even tried to change his identity, calling him the RedHood and Jason Todd. But Y/b/n assured Alfred that he’d try his best to work and cooperate with Bruce and his rules, but also confessed that it wouldn’t be easy probably. Alfred promised Y/b/n that he was there for him for the highs and lows, just like he was for Bruce all his life. Later that afternoon Y/b/n told Alfred he was going to be out for the evening, but he’d be back before dawn, saying that he was still going to be on the lookout for the bad guys. Alfred then took him down at the Batcave and presented him a better suit that had the same details as the one Y/b/n was already wearing. 

  “You made this for me? B-But why?”

“Y/b/n, my son.. I promised that I would do anything in my power to protect you, and if I can do that with this, then might as well correct?”

  “I guess so... thank you.”

  “No, thank you.. now put this on and see yourself out, I have you on a tracker so you’re under my watch and not alone, be safe.. and choose your actions wisely.”

  “I will, see you later.”

  “See you later.”

Y/n’s POV

  Two weeks passed by after Christmas which wasn’t a pleasant day for Y/n, because it reminded her of her brothers death, she cried mostly on that day and was asleep too. But Bruce, being the Bruce he was trying to learn sympathy and how to cheer up people, especially his loved ones, had gone out of his way to find something he felt would be absolutely spew up to give to his fiancée. He gifted her his mother’s necklace which was a small shining diamond with pearls around it. Putting in on her delicate neck Bruce made sure to clasp the chain correctly then it soon was resting beautifully against her sternum. Sense she was stuck at home, Y/n wasn’t able to give him anything but her scrunchies which she came to find out he wore more often than she thought. She felt bad at first for not being able to do more, but seeing his happy smile as he put them all on and let her tie one in his hair, she was soon satisfied. He pampered her the rest of the day, he was shy through it all, believing that maybe he was doing to much or not enough, but Y/n reminded him the entire time, that he was more than enough. But sadly enough, after that day was over, Y/n began to work on what she was going to do for undercover. And she found what she hoped was the perfect solution,

  ‘Alright tomorrow night when Bruce goes out I’m going to the Iceberg Lounge, I need to see if I qualify for work there.. which I should.. especially after I made this fake ID and background check, it’s perfect for what they’re looking for. I just need to change my appearance.. I’ll have to do what white chicks did in that chick flick film.. wear a whole mask. Every night when Bruce goes out I’ll go out too.. I just have to keep track of his distance from me or the safe house... making sure he won’t catch up to me. Hopefully I’m in quickly.. I’ll be able to really see and here what this devil Mackenzie is really up to.. and my goal is to burn all his earnings first.. then take him down at his biggest sell. I just wish I could tell someone else besides Uncle G in case I need more backup. Maybe Alfred could be the one to trust for this.. he’s good at keeping secrets.’

  Y/n called Alfred as she sat back in her chair at the desk Bruce had gotten for her, she heard it ring a couple of times then it picked up,

  “Y/n good evening.”

  “Good evening Alfred, how are you?”

  “I’m doing fine dear, just working on a couple of things for Bruce, he’s at the orphanage at the moment with Danny filling out more paperwork.”

  Y/n was happy to hear that as she replied,

  “Oh that’s great!! Can’t wait for things to go through.”

  “So am I.. and how are you feeling? Recovering well?”

  “Yes indeed, Dr.Thompkins came yesterday and took out my stitches, and though the scar is ugly it’s sealed.. and my lungs and breathing system were checked and they all look good.. thanks to Bruce of course for dragging me out of there.. and for you working fast as soon as you got your hands on me.”

  Y/n could hear Alfred let out a breath of relief as he said,

  “youre definitely a miracle Y/n.. is there something you need?”

  Going back to track on what she had really called him for she replied,

  “Yes actually... um.. but this has to stay between you and I. Besides my Uncle G, he already knows.. Please?”

  “I cross my heart.”

 Y/n then explained to him her plan and everything she and Saunders had already gotten together for it, telling him that she felt ready and prepared to go in finally that night, she also put forth that she would take all the precautions possible, wearing trackers and lens that only he could see and know about, but never Bruce. 

  “And why can’t Bruce know about this dear?”

“Because he wants me to stay away and dead to the city... he was pretty upset about my last incident, calling it a close call.. which it was.. and if I told him about this plan of mine he’d just might have a heart attack and tie me to my bed.”

  Alfred’s POV 

  Alfred knew Y/n’s potential, and he could believe that she was ready for this.. but he’d never dare go against Bruce’s wishes. But at the same time, he knew how much this meant to Y/n and how she’d be the only way and one perhaps to ever put down Mackenzie and Maroni forever. All his life he’s kept big secrets and had them on a million locks in his heart, maybe he could add one more.

  Sighing after he came to his decision he asked her formally,

   “What do you need for me to bring, and what can I do to assist you, Y/n?”

 Bruce’s POV 

 After Bruce left the meeting for Danny’s adoption process, he made sure to give Danny a gift before leaving, explaining that the next time he came around he’d have more time to stick around and play with him. Danny was more than understanding and gave Bruce’s tall legs a tight hug before running off with his gift.  Bruce walked out of the building and got in his car, checking the time from the wrist watch that laid under the black scrunchie he wore he thought,

  ‘It’s barely ‘4:24’, I should check out Saunders old house and see if he has any more files stored up. Y/n said she didn’t need anything so she should be fine, I’ll go see her tomorrow. Maybe I can help Gordon catch Mackenzie in another way if I find enough information to look through.’

  Driving back to the Batcave Bruce got dressed in his drifting clothes and packed his suit in the backpack, he planned on leaving Saunders house by midnight to go out on his nightly patrols. Alfred wasn’t in the Batcave so Bruce figured that he might of been up in his office working on the Wayne Enterprises or the Orphanage he was planning to build up, so he left it at that and worked on his own things. For at the moment he really wanted to go through every nook’n cranny in that house to find even the smallest piece of clues to help out. Maybe he didn’t want Y/n to be the one to stop Mackenzie because of the risks, but he knew he could probably try on his own. 

  At Saunders old house

Time flew by as Bruce searches through the house thoroughly, he soon made it down stairs in the basement where Y/n had her first personal encounter with Saunders. He saw how the ceiling had fallen in, but he began to pick up the falling pieces and clear the floor of the basement, and there under the carpet, was a small door on the floor.

  ‘Hm? Maybe he has something under that door.. let’s check it out.’

  Bruce found a hammer on the wall where Saunders held other tools, taking it of he walked to the spot where the door of cement was and began to hit it repeatedly to break it. Finding success after what felt like an hour Bruce was able to pull out a large wooden box from the floor. And when he opened it he found so many files and photos,

  ‘God damn this is a lot.. oh.. this is Y/f/n’s personal box.’

  Bruce found out it wasn’t Saunders but Y/f/n’s box as he saw that the pictures were just of him with his family, Bruce took each one out and looked through them all, he saw how happy young Y/n looked with her father in every photo where they were together. She held him tightly around the neck or torso as they embraced each other happily, they both had the same smile and eyes. He had went halfway through the box when he found a letter that was not finished, it was in her fathers writing, he pulled it out of the bag it was in and he saw how it was burned slightly from the corner,

  ‘Was he writing this before the fire?.. is that why he didn’t finish it, and it’s partially burned? Ugh damn.. well let’s see what it says,’

  Bruce got on the floor and sat against the wall as he began to read it,

  ‘Dear Y/n, 

I will always be proud of you, no matter what. I’m leaving back to Gotham City to finish my work, and I’m not sure how it’ll turn out, bad or good, successful or not. But I’m here to ask you to watch over your mother and brother for me please while I’m gone. You are one of the strongest people I know, and I know that you can withstand the tallest wave of life and still make it to the other side. You’re smart and determined, my only dream is that you accomplish what I can’t, make my dreams your reality. Thank you for being my best partner and helping me out with every problem I couldn’t solve. If things ever go wrong, I need you to-‘

  And the letter ended there, leaving Bruce with the mystery and curiosity of what he had intended to finish it with. Deep in his heart Bruce felt a small envy, he had wished his father had taken the same time and dedication Y/n’s father had towards her. But he knew each one had different lives that guided towards different decisions. Putting the letter back in the bag he began to pick up the items that were scattered on the floor, making sure each one was put in perfect order just like how he found them. When he picked up the last file of photos a paper slipped and fell out to the floor, picking it up he saw it was another letter, but this time it was his personal notes, leading Bruce to a much needed information,

  ‘Kenzie is planning to take on Maroni’s business only because he doesn’t have enough money to bail him out of prison, though I want to believe that Gotham’s biggest drug bust was just a fraud. But I hope Mackenzie doesn’t get enough money to bail Maroni out, cause then we would have a HUGE problem. For Mackenzie plays a big part of the drug business and is in the freaking justice system... Greg was right, Gotham is a real shithole. But when I go back to Gotham I should be able to finally track him down and take him in.. I have enough proof that he’s down there alll the fucking time. I just need to pick up the evidence down at my hidden place at GC and I’m in, I’ll turn it in to the feds and bingo.. I think this might just be the endgame to all of this.. then..  I’ll be able to come and stay home.

  October 31.-‘

 Bruce realized that it was a page torn out from a book, maybe a diary, so he then dumped everything out of the box and desperately looked through everything to find more of Y/f/n’s notes to see if any of them mentioned the hidden place he had. According to the date of when he wrote it it was only 3 days before his death, he definitely was really close, meaning the evidence he had was still lying somewhere in Gotham, in a hidden place. Everything that he needed to bring down Mackenzie and once again Maroni but for forever.

 If he could find the hidden place then maybe he wouldn’t have to go to the Iceberg Lounge and The 44 Below for more or new evidence. The thing is, Y/f/n was a FBI agent, one of the best out there, he technically could’ve made an old abandoned truck or building his shelter or hiding place for all his work and no one would’ve ever known. 

  ‘Would Saunders know where he had his stuff? Maybe not.. because he never mentioned in the note that anyone else knew but him. Damn it.. Gotham is a huge City.. that information can be stolen or useless by now... I guess I’ll have to take my chances then at the club.. ugh I hate clubs.. they smell and it’s loud and bright with their obnoxious lights... at least Y/n won’t be down there, it’s too dangerous.’