#welcome lads. it’s gonna suck for the rest of your life but you know. good company

[starry-eyed-psychopomp]

Lesbians welcoming mlm’s to the cancellation pit after ofmd:

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 1

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

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1563

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Side Note: Црни лабуд, according to google translate, means Black Lotus in Serbian.

So erm. Hi guys, first time sharing something on Tumblr, normally I’m the one reading all the fanfics but after reading so many talented people’s work I thought I’d try my hand at it :) hopefully it doesn’t completely suck, any writing tips and feedback is welcome and feel free to give some constructive criticism. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Okay I’ll shut up, Enjoy :)  

It’s the same routine day after day, wake up, shower, get dressed and go out to recruit for Damien. The streets of Brooklyn aren’t exactly safe for a girl of 13, but hey this is what happens when a pair of inconsiderate asses sell their only child to one of the most infamous and dangerous gang of criminals for the cheap thrill of getting high. One way or another a girls gotta make a living and the way I do it could land me in jail for the rest of my life, I mean I didn’t exactly picture myself blackmailing and manipulating the poor souls targeted by Црни лабуд, but that’s the shit that happens when you find yourself being shunned by the society that’s supposed to help the weak.

Anyways I was getting close to my target, just two more blocks, through the back alley and up the stairs to the apartment owned by Greg Sampson. That clever son of a gun managed to bypass the security systems of the cities bank and make off with $5,000 and get away with it, and as expected the Црни лабуд want him to be our new “financial adviser” considering our last one double crossed the boss and died cause if it. Turning to corner to enter the alley was a moment, as cheesy as it sounds, I won’t ever forget, a big group of boys were surrounding a lanky and frail lad who by the looks of it had seen better days. His blonde hair was all over the shop and his face looked like it had been ploughed into the front of a bus, blood was coming out his nose and both his top and bottom lip were split open but despite all of that he was laughing and taunting the group. 

“What’s the matter guys? Upset that you can’t keep me down?”, okay it’s official this kid has a death wish and I’m pretty sure that if I don’t do something I’m gonna be a witness to a murder, so of course my dumbass walks right into the middle of this “fight”. “So, what the hell is going off here? You boys decided to compensate for your small penises by acting like giant dicks or something?”, I could hear the lad behind me let out a laugh and a small smirk spread across my face as I looked at who I was up against, all the lads were red in the face and looked ready to put me into an early grave but I’d of liked to see them try.

 Thanks to the boss I knew basic self-defence and apparently could pack one “hell of a punch” when pissed off, the tallest of the bunch stepped towards me and picked me up by my collar at an attempt to scare me “Who the hell do ya think ya are little girl?! Don’t ya know when to stay outta other people business? Now I gotta mess up that pretty lil face of yours”. It was safe to say whatever he said and did was about as intimidating as a wet kitten and honestly quite funny, hence why I laughed before I punched the prick in his face, not my smartest move cause then I was dropped straight on to my ass. One of the tall pricks mates decided to take advantage of my situation, yelling and cursing at me as he prepared to kick me right in the face ,which wouldn’t of been too pleasant let’s be honest, but right when his foot was about to make contact the blonde lad behind me pulled himself in front of me and took the blow for me, he went flying across the floor and hit the back wall.  

Now I was pissed. As the group started to walk past me and advance on the blonde boy, I grabbed the ankle of the closest guy and pulled him down, climbing on top of him and really going in on his stupid face to try and get their attention back on me and off the guy struggling to stand.  It’s safe to say it worked, a sudden force to my ribs knocked me off the boy and back onto the floor, and then the fun began…for them at least I wasn’t having as much fun as the collection of shitheads, pain erupted from all over body, one jackass was constant kicking me in the head as the others hit whatever part of me they could reach. It felt like it went on for forever, but, in reality it was only for 30 seconds, before the boys stopped, I could hear the sounds of punches and the whimpers of pain as multiple sets of steps started to run away from me.

 I tried to sit up, but those bastards really did a number on my ribs and midsection, the pain making me cry out before crumpling to the floor, faint mummers and a moan of pain could be heard but I didn’t really care about that. Summoning my last bit of strength I pulled myself up, ignoring my bodies screams of protest, the wall becoming my new best friend as I started to limp towards my objective, I managed to get about 10 centimetres away from the alley before a arm wrapped around my waist and held me up.

“Just so you know that was fucking stupid move on your part, next time let me save the punk” ,okay hold the frigging phone who the hell is this and why haven’t I pushed his stupid ass to the floor? quickly I shoved him and “walked” away from him, royally pissed off.  “By the time you’d of got here to save him he’d of been 6 feet under by now, so go screw yourself” Perhaps I could have been nicer, but he did start it.

Miraculously I made it to the stairs and began to make my way up them, when once again a hand stopped me and I gotta be honest it’s really starting to piss me off, turning around to give this little bugger a piece of my mind, the words died in my throat as I came face to face with the blonde boy. Bruises littered his face and somehow his face was even bloodier then before, the mark from the kick was printed on his face and guilt immediately flooded my veins, “Ignore my friend, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut sometimes, anyway I wanted to thank you for stepping in there not a lotta people would be so quick to rush in and have my back. My names Steve, Steve Rodgers and the grumpy old man over there is James Barnes” Steve stuck his hand out as a greeting and offered me what I can assume he meant as a friendly smile, though the split lips did ruin the image. Slowly a smile spread across my face and I shook his hand in greeting, “It was no problem, honestly, besides you had em on the ropes, my names y/n and it’s nice to meet you, though I can’t say the same about your friend over there.”. The boy behind Steve or Bucky scoffed at me and walked off in a huff, not that I cared, simply raising my eyebrows at Steve, mocking his friends attitude he let out a sigh and gave me an apologetic smile in response, “Well I better go after him or he’ll kick up a storm, I’ll see ya around y/n” and with that he smiled a final time and ran off after his friend. 

Returning to the task at hand, I let out a small smile at the thought of Steve before frowning, he was a good kid and didn’t need the trouble I brought, it’ll be best if I never see him again. I sighed before climbing up the rest of the stairs and prepared for the next few hours of hell I have to bring to this man, with those final thoughts I brought out my “tools” and got to work.

Okay honestly, I didn’t mean to make the first chapter so long, I wanted to provide the best in sight as to how this series will go, also the character development will be miles better in up-coming chapters. Thanks for reading :)

Rose xx

[mymelodyheart]

All I Want For Christmas Is You  Chapter 1 ~Sparks Will Fly~

Notes

Hey guys, I'm back with a Christmas Ficlet, "All I Want For Christmas Is You," starring our favourite couple, Jamie and Claire.

It won't be my usual long story, but it's my wee gift to my readership who'd been following my journey in writing and always encouraging me with their insightful comments and kudos. 

Please don't be disheartened when I don't always reply back to your comments, as I spend every spare time I have writing. When I'm not writing, I'm dealing with this thing called life and taking care of my loves. But I promise you, I always look forward to reading your feedback, and if you have any questions of any sorts, I will answer them. If you see any mistakes or you wish to impart something I'm doing wrong or give me some ideas, please bear in mind I welcome constructive criticism, and I welcome opinions. I would even thank you for it, and I promise you I won't take it personally. The reason I say this is because I wholeheartedly wish to improve my writing and what a better way when my readers can share their thoughts with me. 

Without further ado, I wish you all happy reading.

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

James Fraser stepped into the pub followed by his older brother Willie. Although it was still early evening, there was already a small crowd all hyped up into a party mode. The multiple flat TV screens on the walls were showing world championship darts without the sounds. Instead, the speakers blared with Wham's Last Christmas song with the random interference from the resident DJ. While a handful of men milled around the bar holding their pints, the women sat at the table chattering animatedly and sipping long drinks and port. With Christmas Eve only two days away, there was a sense of excitement and goodwill in the air, typical of the festive season.

"Check out those birds at three o'clock."

Jamie cocked his head at Willie's words.

Two wide-eyed bonnie lassies stood next to the pool table sipping cocktails as if awaiting their turn for a game. Living in a tight community where everyone knew everybody and their business, Jamie immediately discerned the girls were visitors.

Willie unzipped his jacket. "I saw blondie first."

Jamie followed his brother's line of sight, but his eyes darted back to the dark-haired lass with the palest skin he'd ever seen, her tresses done up in a messy bun. Her long legs, accentuated by tight black jeans, grabbed his complete attention. She had a cropped red cable-knit sweater on and boots caked with mud which meant she must have been watching the shinty game earlier along with the rest of the village folks.

"Bloody hell, look at her," Willie murmured.

Blondie wore a purple turtle neck top that showed off her nice breasts, and jeans that hugged her hips snuggly. Jamie grinned. "Och, ye like 'em curvy, but I like her mate more. Shall we talk to them?"

"Aye, let's do that before one of those lads get there first." 

Jamie made a move forward.

"Hang on a minute," Willie's hand slapped across Jamie's chest, stopping him mid-saunter. "Yer ex ... she's back here for the holidays. She's sat at the bar with her mates. Are ye sure ye're ready for this?"

"Aye, aye. It's been over between us for ages," Jamie replied, not taking his eyes off the dark-haired lass. He hadn't thought about his ex for a long time and whatever he thought he'd felt for her back then, was nothing but a distant memory.

"This is just a bit of fun, alright? Dinnae get to attached. Blondie and her mate are probably tourists."

Willie had seen him go through hell over a year ago with his ex, who he thought had been the one for him. She had turned his life upside down, affecting his job, and his ability to stay sober after she'd cheated on him. Once Jamie got his act together, he'd sworn off serious relationships and decided to concentrate on work.

"Fun. Fun sounds good," Jamie muttered. When Willie didn't release him, he looked at his brother square in the eyes. "How about ye?"

"What about me?"

"Ye haven't chatted up a lass in a very long time. Are ye sure you still know how to?" Jamie asked, trying to keep a straight face.

Willie shoved his shoulder and feigned offence. "Ye cheeky git! Cannae chat any lass up when I know everyone here, now, can I?" 

Jamie nodded toward the two girls. "Weel, what are we waiting for?" He took a deep breath and kinked his head sideways to the left and then to the right. "If we're just gonnae stand here like a couple of numpties and discuss, we'd be too late by the time we get there."

"Mmm, never seen ye this eager to meet a lass before," Willie grinned.

Jamie looked back at the women and noticed they were beginning to garner attention from the lads nearby. The dark-haired one made a move around the pool table followed by her mate, and he was powerless to stop his gaze wandering down to the gentle curve of her arse.

Willie straightened his posture. "Let's go," he exhaled as he made a move.

Jamie followed suit and lined up next to his brother. As they got closer, he watched as the dark-haired lass skirted past a group of pool players with a polite smile, then wrote her initials in chalk on a blackboard mounted to the wall, claiming the next game. CB, she scrawled.

She wrinkled her nose and laughed at something her friend said as she started moving towards the bar. Jamie's frown deepened when the lass didn't see the sports bag put into her path. A few steps more, and she would trip and fall flat on her face. But not if he could help it.

"Hey!" Jamie shouted, abandoning Willie's side. "Hey, ye!"

She took another step, looking over her shoulder to acknowledge what her friend was shouting at her.

"Ah, fuck!" Jamie gritted his teeth and hurried towards her in quick long strides. He had no choice but to jostle a couple of bodies out of his way as she showed no signs of hearing him. He caught her as her foot connected with the bulky bag, his arms sliding under hers and pulling her up.

Her forehead bounced off his chin. "Oh, Lordy, Lordy." She let out a lungful of air and dug her fingernails into his forearms, her breath on his neck feeling like a double shot of heat warming his insides. "I'm such a clumsy oaf."

"Hey mate, shoved that bag under the table will ye, before someone breaks their neck," Jamie shouted over the top of her head at the owner of the bag, his voice sounding a tad harsh. With her front plastered against him, Jamie could almost feel her shock subside, giving way to the vibration of her laughter. Still holding her close, he puffed out a sigh and whispered into her ears. "Next time, ye should look at where ye're going. Ye could have landed on yer face, and that wouldn't have been a pretty sight."

Still laughing, her shoulders shook, presumably finding the situation hilarious. "We left our Airbnb earlier in a hurry, and my contact lenses are at the bottom of my suitcase. I'm farsighted, you see, but I'm too vain to wear my specs."

"Enough to fall flat on yer face? "

A few heartbeats passed. "If I say yes, are you going to start yelling again?"

"Aye."

"Alright then ...no."

Realising he still held the lass in a firm grip, Jamie let her go slowly to reassure himself she was steady on her feet. She kept her head down as she took a step back to rummage through the handbag slung on her shoulder. When she got hold of what she was looking for, she put on a pair of specs and blinked up at him through round, black-rimmed eyeglasses. As their eyes met, he felt something crank in his chest. He must still be wound up from the shinty game earlier because, on a sucked-in breath, an uneven sound passed through his mouth. A Dhia. She had the most beautiful amber eyes, and they reminded him of the colour of the finest heavily peated single malt whisky, Islay had to offer. 

"Oooh!" she whispered. 

Aye, tell me about it. "What's yer name?"

"You're one of the shinty players from earlier."

"Uh-huh." He tamped down the urge to laugh. "Yer name?" he repeated.

If the spellbound look in her eyes meant she was stunned by what she saw, she wasn't the only one. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I'm Claire. Beauchamp. Claire Beauchamp."

"Claire." For some reason, colour bloomed in her face when he said her name. "I'm Jamie Fraser."

"Hi." After a few seconds of just staring at each other, she recovered first and slapped a hand to her forehead. "Oh, shoot, where are my manners? Thank you. Thank you for saving me from an undignified fall." Her lips twitched, and her eyes twinkled. "If I had died of embarrassment, at least no one would care since nobody knows me here."

"I would care." Someone collided into him from behind, making him close the distance between them and her head tilt back to maintain eye contact. She was a tall lass, but still, he was a head taller than her. "So ... ye're here on holiday?" he asked.

"Yes, I am ...until Boxing Day. And then we're going to Edinburgh for Hogmanay. And then flying back to London on Three Kings from Glasgow." He heard her swallow. "I have a thing for Christmas in Scotland, you see."

"Is that so? What else do ye have a thing for?"

"Probably a lot of other stuff," she whispered, clutching her handbag in front of her. "But I'm having difficulty thinking of them right this minute."

"And why is that?" God, she's breathtakingly beautiful.

"I guess I'm still rattled by that near fall." She shrugged her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Or have you forgotten all about that already?"

Jamie couldn't stop his grin. "No, not at all." In his periphery, he saw his brother and Claire's friend chatting. He wondered if he could whisk Claire away. This lass is something else. She wasn't staying here for very long, and he wanted to get to know her and make every second count.

He cleared his throat. "Look, Sassenach ..." 

"Sassenach?"

He felt heat glid at the back of his neck. "Sorry ... it's a Gaelic word. It means an outsider or someone from not around here. In case ye misunderstood, it's not my intention to make it sound like ye're not welcome here. Let's just say I meant it as a pet name. Endearment, if ye will."

He regarded her as her eyes searched his face, and she made no effort at all to hide her perusal of his lips. When a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes lit up into a wicked glint, his chest expanded a hundred-fold. "I like the sound of that ...Sassenach," she breathed as she rolled the Gaelic word in her tongue.

"Mmm, so, you're from London, huh?"

She shoved her hands in the back pocket of her jeans and rocked back on her heels. "Yeah. I'm originally from Oxford. But I live and work in London as an editorial assistant for a publishing company. How about you? What do you do, besides playing shinty?"

"I'm a tree surgeon. My brother and I run an arboricultural business."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, wow! I've never met a tree surgeon before. So I guess you must love your job to make it into a business?"

"Aye, I do," he smiled, basking in her open interest in his life. "I love the outdoors and the fresh air, whatever the weather. How about ye? Do ye like yer job?"

She paused and frowned in contemplation. "It's alright," she shrugged. "It's a job that will bring me closer to fulfilling a dream, I guess. I want to be a fulltime writer one day ..."

It was his turn to be surprised. "Maybe ye should move to the countryside if ye want to be a writer. Far too many distractions in London, don't ye think?"

She grinned. "Yeah, I suppose so. But I'm enjoying London at the moment, and I'm not quite ready to give up the city life. Just yet. Maybe one day." She glanced at her watch. "Umm ...you must have somewhere to go."

He wasn't ready to let her walk away, so he forced a worried cast into his face. "Eh, ye look still shaken up. We should probably get ye something stiff to drink ...and my phone number."

Her eyes widened, and after a tense split second, laughter burst out of her lips, loud enough to turn heads in their vicinity. She brought her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle but failed. The sound was so infectious, his own low rumble accompanied it, and he couldn't help but think, there's never been a time he felt such a powerful connection with another person. 

"Actually I'm with my mate here," Claire said finally, jerking a thumb over her shoulder and twisting around to the direction of where her friend stood. "She's my French flatmate. But it looks like she's already found someone to talk to." She paused and squinted her eyes. "Oh ...I recognise that bloke she's with. He played shinty too, didn't he?"

He waved at Willie and signalled him and Claire's friend to come over. "Aye, that's my older brother." 

Claire's gaze shot right back to him. "Really?" With a smile that showed off perfect teeth, she pushed her specs higher on her nose. "I wouldn't have thought. I don't have a sibling, and I just presumed your whole family would have the same gorgeous auburn hair like yours. Well, alright ..." She crimsoned to her hairline as she looked at his approaching brother. "I see some similarities now ...height, broad shoulders and the colour of your eyes."

Jamie felt a pinch of unease. Even though her vivacity was endearing, he wasn't ready to feel drawn to anyone this deeply or to care at such an alarming rate and intensity. After his last relationship broke down, there hadn't been anyone that piqued his interest ...until now. And she would be leaving in a few days. Chatting to her was only meant to be a night of enjoying the company of a beautiful lass or perhaps a diversion in whom he could lose himself into for a short time. But the moment he'd looked into her eyes, warm feelings drove into his heart while burning urges grew low in his tummy. This lass was a breath of fresh air and sexy and exactly what he needed. He mentally shook his head to clear his brain. Looking beyond the top of her head, he blurred the image of seeing this as something more. The long-distance relationship was a no-go. He was a country lad at heart, and she belonged to the city.

"Jamie?" She was staring at him as if he'd lost some of his ability to think clearly.

"I'm sorry ...still listening. It's just that I'm not used to a beautiful lass pointing out my physical attributes," he reassured her with a smile.

That beautiful blush blew across her face again. Jamie found it adorable. How could she be direct and shy at the same time? "I didn't mean to sound so bold. It must have something to do with me living in the city for so long ...you know, us Londoners tend to have no filters."

He winked at her. "Dinnae fash, lass. I kinda like it." And he meant it. 

She was about to respond when Willie and Claire's friend reached them, huge smiles painted across their faces like they'd hit it off.

The blonde girl took a step forward towards Jamie. "Hi! Claire and I enjoyed watching you guys play shinty earlier. I didn't realise it would be so aggressively physical. By the way, I'm Annalise," she smiled warmly, holding out her hand.

Jamie took it. "Aye, that it is and difficult to play when the grounds are too soggy. It could get pretty messy in this dreich weather." He shook her hand. "I'm Jamie ...please to meet ye."

"Likewise," Annalise replied, glancing at her friend.

Willie introduced himself to Claire, then brought his attention to their situation. "Looks like yer glasses are empty, ladies. Can we invite ye both to join us for a drink?"

Jamie saw Annalise elbow Claire with a conspiratorial look. When Claire nodded, Annalise batted her eyes at his brother. "Sure. That would be nice. I'd like a vodka and tonic please."

Willie grinned like he'd just received an early Christmas present and Jamie understood the feeling.

"Sassenach, what would ye like to drink?" 

Before Claire could reply, Hugh, one of the lads in his shinty team, tapped her on the shoulder. "It's ye against me now, lass."

Claire swung around and looked at the cue stick being handed to her, and her eyes lit. Turning back to Jamie, she grinned. "This won't take long, but I'll have a single malt, neat, please." Then she stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. "This is for good luck."

He froze. It was an innocent kiss, but it packed quite a punch.

"Oh ...and yeah, it's a belated thank you again for breaking my fall," she quickly added, suddenly, appearing unsure like she doubted the gesture.

A slow grin roused to form on his lips. "Ye can thank me by going out with me ...tonight," he said, without thinking.

She blinked.

"I'd like to show ye something."

Her brows wrinkled as she studied his face.

"I'd really like to get to know ye better and take ye out," he said. "Please allow me." If she said no, he was quite certain he was going to beg.

"Alright."

He smiled as relief surged through him. "I'll wait for you until ye finish yer game," he said. "We'll leave after we've had a drink with my brother and yer friend."

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere Christmassy."

She gave him a wary look, and he laughed. 

"Listen." He leaned in close. "I'll get yer friend to take a picture of my driving licence if that will make ye feel better."

He was about to pull out his wallet to retrieve it when she stopped him with a wave of a hand. "I trust you."

"That's a good start."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

Slowly backing away from him, she smiled. "Let me play this one game first, and then I'll be with you."

With his heart in his throat, he watched her progress as she walked towards the pool table and swapped a few quick words with her opponent, who seemed to be humouring her. After the lively exchange, Claire pulled up the sleeves of her sweater to her elbow and rubbed her hands together. Before she began chalking the cuestick, she gave him a wink. That mere display made the muscles in his belly clench, literally whooshing the breath out of him. 

A slap on his back tore his gaze away from Claire. "Easy now lad," Willie said in a low, amused voice. "Ye look like ye could use the same drink as her."

Jamie glanced back at the subject of their conversation. "Aye, but make mine a double," he whispered.

"On it," Willie replied, laughing as he walked off.

What the bloody hell? He should be withdrawing himself away from this attraction because this mad instant bond between them was like an overloaded electrical fuse, capable of incinerating him alive. He'd already learnt his lesson from his last relationship. He'd been there and done that, but yet he didn't have the will to stop himself from finding out how their connection would play out.

Oh, Christ, this is bad. So, so bad, I'm in so much big trouble. Taking a huge sigh, he found himself a stool nearest to the pool table and watched Claire steal the show from the best snooker player in Broch Mordha.

[hh-rose]

James Potter and the Retelling of the True Story  Chapter Nine: The End

ao3

masterpost

The rest of that summer was similar. There was the wedding and some deaths. Remus obviously didn't marry tonks because that's gross and ridiculous. Draco accompanied them to the wedding. He (and Remus) also joined the Golden Trio on the horcrux hunt.

People still died. The war still happened. Fred died. Snape died. Remus, Remus died. We watched a lot of people die that night. We saw him die, but then there was something else and something else and something else, so we were a little distracted when he showed up. We all heard someone clear their throat.

"Messrs Padfoot and Prongs," a voice said, and we both whipped around. Sirius bit his lip.

"Mr. Moony," he breathed out. He sprinted to Sirius and threw his arms around his neck. "Merlin, I fucking missed you."

"Oh, my love, I missed you too," Remus whispered into his ear. "As amazing as this is, I saw you two years ago, and there are some people here who I haven't seen in seventeen."

"Yeah, don't hog him," I said, grin wide on my face. I heard Sirius groan.

"I'll hog my husband if I want to," he muttered, but he pulled away. Remus's face was caked in tears.

"It's almost like he's only your husband because of my genius idea," I told him.

"Wasn't it Lily's idea?" Remus asked. I grinned and hugged the shit out of him.

"Wanker," I whispered into his ear. "Thank you for taking care of Harry. You were  brilliant, and I can't thank you enough."

"It was easy. He's just like you," Remus whispered back.

"No, I think he's just like his dads," I replied. Remus pulled back and smiled sadly at me. He went over and hugged Lily next. "Well, lads, I think we might be one short of a group of marauders. We can't possibly get any pranking done with just three of us."

"James, you don't need to prank anyone. We're all dead," Lily stated. I rolled my eyes.

"Fred," I said, looking across the room at the young boy. He perked up. "You want to be a marauder."

"You meant to tell me that Professor Lupin, Sirius Black, and Harry's dad are the marauders," he pondered, walking over to us.

"You can be too if you want, Freddie, me boy," Sirius said, clapping him on the shoulder. Fred grinned from ear to ear.

...

Harry used the resurrection stone and spoke to all of us just like in the other story. He talked to Remus and Sirius more than me, but that's okay. They were just as much of his parents as I was. Honestly, maybe they were more.

The next part is different though. He didn't talk to that fucking creep when he died. He talked to me. I knew he was going to die, and I was like sucked into this area in between the two worlds. Only one of us could go, and Lily wanted it to be me.

"Dad?" he asked when he saw me. "Am I dead?"

"Technically, no," I said, raising one eyebrow. "I'm not really sure what you would be considered right now. You're in between."

"Is it up to me which place I go? Back or to the afterlife?" he asked. I nodded. "What do you think I should do?"

"I think that you have had a lifetime worth of hurt, and I think that too much was put on you at too young of an age. I want to keep you safe, and I can do that here," I told him. I smiled. "But, I also know that you are the only person who can defeat him. I also know that you can be so, so happy if you go back. This is the afterlife, but it's no life. You can't be in love here. You can't be with Draco here."

"You know about Draco?" he asked, blushing.

"Oh, Merlin, I wasn't supposed to bring that up first," I muttered. "But, yes, I know about you and Draco. I love and support you, obviously, and I think that he's the guy for you. He's a good one."

"Really?" he asked, grin on his face. I nodded. "Moony and Pads told me that you would be cool with it, but still. Means a lot."

"They were good dads to you. It's okay for you to acknowledge that," I told him

"You would've been a good dad too," he replied. Then, for the first time in sixteen years, my son hugged me. I got to feel him hug me. "I love you."

"I love you too, son. I'll miss you."

"I didn't say I was leaving yet."

"There was no doubt in my mind that you were going to go back," I said. "You're gonna do great kid. I'll see you, hopefully in many, many years."

...

Then, he went back. Some things stayed the same. Narcissa, beautiful perfect Narcissa, covered for him. She knew about Drarry, and she did have a lot of love for Harry. Harry came back and fought Voldemort, with Draco on his side after he yelled "Potter" and ran to help him.

You know the story of the battle. I don't need to tell you. Afterward, all Harry wanted to do was find Draco who was sitting in the Grand Hall with Narcissa.

"Draco," Harry whispered, almost collapsing, but Draco stood up and caught him. Harry clung to him. "Let's go home."

"Home?" Draco asked.

"Home," Harry stated. He perked up a bit. "Moony left me Grimmauld Place. I want you to live with me there. And, Narcissa, first, thank you for everything. But, second, you are more than welcome to live there as well."

"That's very kind of you, Harry, but I think I'm going to stay with my sister for the time being," she informed him. Harry nodded. "You take care of my boy, okay?"

"Of course," Harry promised her.

Harry stayed true to his promise. He and Draco had a very long and happy life, which they're still living. They had two children, James Remus and Scorpius Sirius. They went to the Weasleys' for dinner once a week. Harry was a Professor and Draco was a healer. They got to live the lives that we all wished we would in our seventh year.

I could not be more proud of my son. Sure, I would've loved to raise him, but I'm not all that upset with how everything turned out. One day, I'm going to see him again, but I sincerely hope that day isn't any time soon.

So, did you like the real story more than the shit one you were told? Was I funny? I most certainly thought I was.

[gamelpar]

It’s All About Fakes (100 sentence prompts fanfic)

Because I suck a writing even short stories or drabbles, I write 100 sentences prompts for the Fake AH Crew instead.

Some of them are inspired by moments in Let’s Play videos, headcanons, social media posts, or just comes straight out of the blue.

Feel free to take inspiration from the prompts or use them.

Prompts are written from a non-shippy perspective, but each prompt can be intercepted in whatever way pleases.

Also my first work, so let’s see how this goes.

Hey, why don’t you read it on AO3 instead?https://archiveofourown.org/works/24787825

1. How the Fake AH Crew got this far is a hell of story, and you can bet it’s one damn worth telling. (Fake it Til’ You Make it)

2. Ray was a sniper; he could spot bullshit a mile away, so how come he ended up in the Fake AH Crew? (On the Spot)

3. Sitting by the wheel of the red minivan Geoff sighed for the 67th time that day, still disbelieving the fact that they were not on their way to carry through a well-planned heist but rather enroute to the beach for some “splashing and slacking”, as Jack had called it. (Sunday Driving - To the Beach)

4. “The Vagabond says: it’s all gonna be murder.” (What the Vagabond Says)

5. Whether it was the Golden Boy or Gavin; Mogar or Michael; they wouldn’t leave each other behind. (Bois Forever)

6. Lindsay---being an absolute goddess as always---supports Jack in her telling for Fiona, and Jack couldn’t have been more grateful. (Women’s League)

7. Matt screws something up; Trevor is there to help him fix it; then Gavin and Alfredo is there to screw it up even more. (Nice Job Breaking It)

8. It’s Bake a Cake Day (according to Gavin) and it’s Gents vs. Lads (insisted by Gavin) and it will also be known as the day when Geoff’s kitchen met its undeniable demise (because of Gavin). (Bake a Cake Day)

9. Long story short: Michael breaks into an animal adoption center for a cat because Lindsay, and Gavin and Ray tags along because why the fuck not. (No Animal Came To Any Harm Except For Gavin)

10. A heavily tattooed man walks into a bar; later, a mad man and a lady in a Hawaii-shirt joins him. (It’s Not a Joke but the Punchline is Fluff)

11. Lindsay and Jeremy have dealt with shit going sideways longer than most people so they know how to make the best of it. (Failure is an Old Friend of Mine)

12. “I hereby announce that the official Prank Wars Week is in session!” (Oh No)

13. The Vagabond might be ready to die, but Ryan knows he’s not. (Ready as I’ll Ever Be)

14. The Lads---and Geoff---gets drunk as hell one night and starts a sock company. (Socks, There’s Socks Everywhere)

15. A boring Fake AH Crew means a dangerous Fake AH Crew and the residents of Los Santos better prepare for chaos. (Boredom Can be a Health Hazard)

16. Ryan gets hiccups and Ray thinks it’s funny until he gets hiccups, too, and soon everyone is stuck with hiccups and everyone blames Ray for some reason. (The Hiccup Disease)

17. When dawn arrives the Fake AH Crew will never be the same again. (Dawn After Battle)

18. Shopping weekends was nothing Lindsay used to do regularly, until Ryan one time decided to come along; then it became a thing. (Stuff We Do Together)

19. Even after leaving the crew, Ray would still have a home to return to. (Home is Wherever You Make it Be)

20. “No---we’re not twins, we’re not brothers, we’re not related in any way, so please for god’s sake, stop asking that.” (Stop the Questions Goddamnit)

21. Jeremy tried to apply more pressure to the wound but as the time on the bomb was running out, so did the blood. (A Mistake You Won’t Live to Learn From)

22. Someone knocks---no, pounds on the door to Ryan’s apartment at 3AM in the morning and Ryan’s still not that happy to being woken up in the middle of the night even if it is Meg waiting behind the door. (Late Night Visitor   or   Expect the Unexpected)

23. “Hey, guys, Fiona here---you’ll never believe this---but I’m stuck in jail and I need one of you to come and bail me out.” (Let’s Bail)

24. Matt is found alone sitting on top of the roof, watching the sunset, but what Geoff finds is someone who needs to talk and so he decides to be that other someone who listens. (Everyone Needs Someone Sometimes)

25. Gavin gets into trouble, which drags Michael and Jeremy into more trouble, and Geoff just wants to have a fucking drink. (Prepare for Trouble)

26. Gavin makes a statement, and Ryan feat. Alfredo makes it a hundred times worse. (Disturbance of Your Own Making)

27. Being welcomed by the sight of a bloodied and battered Gavin through the open door eliminates any tiredness and annoyance Geoff had worked up to having been woken up by a loud pounding on the door at 2AM. (Bloody Brit)

28. That was the way of the Battle Buddies; if one went down, the other had to keep on going, no matter what. (Broken Promise)

29. Nothing lasts forever, and Ray knows that better than anyone. (Never Say Forever)

30. The remaining Gents as well the rest of the Fakes would always be missing a part of themselves from now on. (Parts & Pieces   or   Next Step is to Move On)

31. The alphabet wasn’t enough to cover every brilliant plan the Fake AH Crew had in store, but they never settled for a single letter anyways. (Seven Ridiculous Plans and One That Actually Made Sense)

32. To the Lads, brighter days ahead is just an illusion they can only dream of in the aftermath of a heist gone wrong which claimed the lives of the Gents. (Miserable Lads)

33. It’s a story from being refused of coffee, to wanting to commit suicide briefly, to Trevor having made room for tea-parties with Jeremy, Gavin and Lindsay in his schedule every now and then. (Shut Up and Have Some Tea)

34. Really, it all started when Ray wouldn’t leave Geoff’s house one night. (A Place for Everyone)

35. Usually things doesn’t escalate this far by playing a simple Xbox-game but having ended up in jail, Michael and Matt doesn’t have much of a say about it and Geoff’s pissed. (Hate the Players)

36. Waking up in a dark room tied to a chair with no slightest idea of what the hell’s going on tends to lead to some anxiety-ridden experiences, especially when it is Gavin who finds himself in that situation. (Blackout)

37. No one wants to be the only sober one left to take care of a drunk crew, but with Ray gone Ryan just has to accept that this is his life now. (Trust   or   Sober One)

38. To think it all started that day when Jack saved a drunk man from being robbed in a dark alley. (Mind Your Manners)

39. Neither Lindsay or Michael would force Gavin to put on a brave face after a nightmare; everyone had fears and it was okay to be scared sometimes. (Sharing is Caring)

40. Matt’s life was just another pile of broken pieces until he met Jeremy, and suddenly he had some glue to put the pieces back together. (Glue   or   Glue My Life Back Together)

41. In the temporary apartment Ray was living in at the moment there was a vase by the kitchen window, always holding five red roses. (A Vase Full of Roses)

42. Geoff’s mood could easily be improved a 100 times better with some nice and warm socks. (Can Never Have Enough of Socks)

43. The crew quickly learned that pairing up Ryan and Trevor together would leave a traumatic amount of battered bodies and large pools of blood behind. (Madness In Me)

44. Michael’s life was like a puzzle; bits and pieces all over the place, some fitting, some not, some missing or broken, some didn’t even belong---and Jack standing there in the middle of it all being the only one who seemed to sense some kind of pattern. (Puzzles)

45. The Fake AH Crew weren’t good guys---they never would be---but that didn’t mean they were incapable of doing good, and they were by far the most decent team of criminals that had ever set foot in Los Santos. (Bad Guys Do Good)

46. Tears kept falling, slowly soaking the photo Jack held in her hand of her and the crew---not wanting to forget, yet not wanting to remember. (Remember to Forget)

47. The pink sniper rifle that hung on the wall would always serve as a reminder for the members of the Fake AH Crew that they were not immortal after all. (We Could Be Immortals)

48. Ryan’s an evil mastermind and that frightens Gavin a little, but the Golden Boy reckon it’s time to beat the Vagabond at his own game. (The Reckoning)

49. Kerry Shawcross crosses paths with the infamous Fake AH Crew completely by accident, and all hell breaks loose. (Welcome to Fake Hell)

50. The blood on his hands belonged to someone he knew---someone he cared about---and Ryan had never been more afraid of himself. (There’s Someone There But it’s Not Me)

51. It’s Pride Month and Jeremy really takes it up a notch when coloring his hair this time. (Rainbows)

52. Watching them Lindsay realized that while each of them all had lost so much, they had found even more. (Less is More)

53. Trevor would be better than Geoff ever’d been at scheduling heists and leading the crew, but he still gets to handle all the complaining from the crew so he isn’t as satisfied as he would like to be. (Point of No Return)

54. When the realization strikes him that he’s the only one left remaining, Jeremy falls to his knees in defeat and can’t stop screaming. (What Remains)

55. Fiona can never seem to stop messing with Gavin in any way possible. (A Step Too Far)

56. “Yeah, they’re all idiots---but they’re my idiots, so don’t you fucking dare lay your hand on them.” (A Bunch of Savage Animal Idiots)

57. Times have never been darker for the Gents as each of them struggles to cope with the deaths of the Lads in the aftermath of an coordinated attack. (Falling Inside the Black)

58. The day he met the Wildcard, Michael’s whole world finally started to make some sense. (Wild World)

59. Geoff’s constant drinking worried Gavin sometimes. (Drunk Concern)

60. Matt didn’t believe anyone would care enough for him to consider him family, nor did he believe he would end up in becoming a part of one. (Lost and Found)

61. Alfredo always wondered who Trevor really was underneath his iron suit of armor. (Armor)

62. Even when stuck in a seemingly never-ending coma, Geoff was never alone. (Not Alone)

63. Alfredo joins the Fake AH Crew with more blood on his hands than most people---including himself---would’ve expected. (Red Sea)

64. There’s a perfectly valid reason why Lindsay, despite not being his roommate anymore, is the only one who has a key to Ryan’s apartment. (Key to the Door)

65. Four times Jeremy and Trevor talked their way out of jail and one time they didn’t. (Another Approach to the Problem)

66. Lindsay tried, and that’s why she was still alive, even though everyone else that mattered to her weren’t anymore. (The Fake Among the True)

67. Fiona was her own knight in shining armor and no tower could ever hold her captive for long. (Green Knight)

68. There were days when Jeremy saw a way out, yet the light would always fade at the end of the tunnel, leaving him in the dark. (No Way In, No Way Out)

69. The others would never come back, and Gavin, walking in the wake of that horrifying truth, felt like an empty shell with nothing left to give. (Empty)

70. Trevor would give his life for the crew just like Geoff and Lindsay had. (Third Time Counts)

71. One time for when each of the Fake AH Crew members showed strength and one time when they didn’t. (No Shame)

72. Jack and Geoff shared a special responsibility for every member of the crew, and Michael was no exception. (Nightmare Terrors)

73. ‘Who’s the creepiest motherfucker?’ is a question rather avoided and unanswered. (Creep Contest)

74. All Michael felt now was a burning anger that refused to flicker and fade, and thirst for revenge than could never be quenched. (Road Rage)

75. The last time they all saw each other the city was burning, wounds were bleeding---figuratively and literally---and they never expected to see each other again. (One Last Time)

76. Jack liked to be up in the early, quiet mornings while everyone was still asleep, but she was seriously going to tackle Ryan into bed if she found out he was still awake at 5AM again. (Go the Fuck to Sleep)

77. He’d said he was going to visit, but Ray always pushed the promise further to its limits every time. (Liar Liar)

78. Five times a heist went to hell and one time when it actually didn’t. (Heisting Hell)

79. Not every backstory of the Fake AH Crew’s members is full of shattered dreams and points of no return. (Wanted)

80. Gavin missed home sometimes, but the Golden Boy didn’t. (Two Sides of a Coin)

81. Jeremy’s admiration of monster trucks stretches way back to when he was only a child, walking past a toy store. (Monster Car)

82. “You can leave if you want”, Geoff said, “No one’s going to stop you.” (Freedom)

83. The Vagabond was almost always in control after the Fall of the Fakes, mostly because Ryan let him. (Dead by Daylight)

84. Perhaps the next mishap won’t be so embarrassing for Alfredo, but life didn’t seem to like him much at all. (It’s Life, What Can You Do About It)

85. Four times Geoff said no to either Gavin, Ryan or Lindsay bringing an animal home, and one time he actually said yes. (Animal Addition)

86. So the members of the Fake AH Crew decides to steal their boss’ yacht again and Geoff’s as usual late to the party. (Yacht Party)

87. The crew goes to get some tattoos, and Lindsay is very sure of which one she wants to get. (Tattoos)

88. When Jack falls sick and can’t make her awesome lunch for the whole crew, the crew makes one for her instead (and Jack appreciates it even if it’s a little burned). (Faking the Chef)

89. The day Fiona joined the Fake AH Crew is a day Gavin will very well remember. (Bully)

90. The B-Team is usually there to clean up the messes, except for this time. (Don’t Leave Your Messes Here)

91. The whiskey burned his throat when he guzzled it, and Geoff wished that the liquor could burn away the pain and memories the same. (Burning Bridges)

92. The Fake AH Crew may look like they’re having the time of their lives, but the outside is designed to hide the struggles and issues that lingers underneath. (Inside Out)

93. With the Gents missing, the Lads stuck in a burning building, and the B-team cornered in a firefight, things does not look good. (Already Over)

94. The Fake AH Crew never failed to be impressed by Michael’s colorful vocabulary of swear words. (Words of Color)

95. Jeremy tries to cover up some traces of his past life from the rest of the crew; it does not go the way he wants. (Known to the World)

96. The Ring had been like home, but he wasn’t earning any money being beaten up every round in familiar surroundings, so Michael left---and ended up in Los Santos. (Ring of Fire)

97. The different paths that every member of the crew took for themselves led each of them to end up somewhere they never intended to be, but somewhere they were meant to be. (Pathfinders)

98. It was safe to say that every member of the Fake AH Crew had at least one weird obsession; some had way too many, and some obsessions were just what the fuck. (Obsessions)

99. The Fake AH Crew heists in style, or they do not heist at all. (Do it with Style)

100. The Fake AH Crew is made up of a selected (un)worthy and unique individuals---each one with their own story of whens, ifs, whats, whos, and hows. (Now That We’ve Come So Far)

[a-wanderin-whirlybird]

Sole Ender AU Its the Little Things

It's the little things that made Ryan feel safe with the Fakes. Like how Gavin and Michael always walk on his right side, never his left, so he can always see them. It's how Geoff makes sure that any Heists outdoors are occurring when it doesnt rain. It's how Jack always has an extra umbrella or Eye Patch for him. How Jeremy and Lindsay make sure to never make direct eye contact. Jeremy looks at his mouth, Lindsay watches anywhere and everywhere else.

Those little things always made Ryan feel welcome. Even after they found out about the experiments, the Lab, the Eye. But still, something felt missing, Ryan could never put his finger on it. But he felt, lost still. He didnt realize the Emptiness was caused by something so simple until one night while playing Trivial Pursuit.

"Authors last names? Fuck that! Every last bastard whose ever written a book has a weird ass last name! They could be Hilda Sasquatch or some shit!" Jeremy shouted. Jack laughed and Gavin snorted.

"Jeremy, you wrote a book." Michael reminded him.

"Well Dooley is a funny last name!" Gavin pointed out as Jeremy growled and slapped the Brit on the back of his head.

"Yeah, like Free is any better!" Jack was losing it in the background as the Lads began to bicker and wrestle. Ryan's nose scrunched as his chest tightened and the empty feeling began again.

"What's with the face Rye?" Geoff asked breaking Ryan's stare. His left eye was covered with a glittering purple and blue eye patch Gavin had made out of his Sparkles. It was a fine gift, one that Ryan treasured.

"Its, it's nothing really." Ryan insisted a bit hesitantly. Geoff shook his head.

"Suuuuuurrrre, it's really nothing." Geoff drawled sarcastically. Ryan rolled his eye.

"Your like a security camera." Ryan muttered. "You keep digging and digging."

"Yeah that's not weird at all." Geoff sighed. "But fine, I'll stop. Just remember you Can talk to us."

"I... I know Geoff." Ryan muttered as the fight before them settled. "Just. Not now?"

Geoff nodded and they all turned back to the game. Ryan hoped that he could bury that empty feeling and never touch it again.

It was just a Last Name after all.

Turns out Ryan couldnt avoid the feeling for long. It was another game night a few weeks later. Jack and Geoff were out with Gavin, so Michael, Jeremy and Lindsay insisted Ryan joined them for Mario Party.

"Right so what's got you so fucked?" Michael asked never looking away from the mini game on the screen.

"Oh elegantly put Jones." Jeremy teased. Michael knocked into Jeremy who went tumbling away and Ryan felt the hole in his chest open again.

"I dont know what you mean." Ryan said as Lindsay pressed into him.

"Bullshit you keep wincing at random! Your eye bugging you?" Lindsay asked this time. Ryan shook his head, he felt stupid he just wanted these people to stop caring so much!

"We arent going to stop caring dipshit that isnt how this works." Jeremy said. Great, Ryan thought, he said that out loud.

"Yeah! We're a crew and shit we ain't gonna not care! Somethings bugging you and we want to help!" Lindsay declared throwing her arms around Ryan and pulling him into a hug.

Ryan tensed then mumbled.

"Sorry what was that?" Michael smirked. "Cant hear you through Lindsay dude."

"I dont have a fucking last name alright? It's a small stupid thing but it drives me nuts! I feel even less human!" Ryan shouted, pushing away from Lindsay. Michael and Lindsay began to laugh.

"Dude chill. It's just a name it doesnt mean shit!" Michael wheezed.

"Yeah dude. No need to get your panties in a twist over it." Lindsay added. Ryan growled and silently rose to his feet.

"Ryan?" Jeremy started but with a Vwoop, Ryan teleported away leaving the three others behind. In a cloud of dull sparkles.

Ryan could teleport pretty far. The farthest he ever went in one go was 20 miles. But now he didnt want to go far, just hide. And what better place to hide than one of the safe houses?

It was a small apartment closer to the suburbs of Los Santos, it was nice, if small. It was usually reserved for when someone was on a solo mission and needed to lie low, which meant that Ryan was there most. So he got to decorate.

Back at the Labs he never got to make any space his own. Everything was sterile and empty. He hated to remember the open space and clean white walls and the smell of bleach and chemicals.

Which was why this space was filled with stuff. Sure it was tidy, nothing was rotten or moldy, but Ryan used every space available. If the floor didnt have a rug there was a table or chair. If the tables didn't have Flowers, TVs, knickknacks or something on it there was usually a cup of Diet Coke. It was filled to the brim with bright plants, paintings, photos you name it.

Ryan plopped down on the couch feeling stupid. Why was he so hung up on a name? He had given himself the name Ryan sure, why not a last name?

Ryan knew why, and as that thought rose up he pushed it away. He didnt want any memories of the Labs in his head right now. Now he wanted to just sleep, he wanted to feel less... less stupid and childish.

So Ryan went off to the bedroom and buried himself deep under the covers, like he used to, and blocked out the rest of the world.

Ryan was 13 again and he sat on his cot, swinging his legs absently.

"Why dont I get one?" He heard himself ask. "Why am I only a number?"

"Names are given by family to people. You have no family and you are no longer human. You are far better than that." One of the blurred figures said. The second scoffed.

"Better? It cant even run the most basic excersise without failing ten times. Its isnt anything but a waste." Ryan couldnhear the sneer in the figure's voice as pain shot through every nerve on his body. "Failure doesnt get you a name of any kind. You are a tool, and a broken one at that. Dont forget that."

Ryan woke up with a start. Turning to the clock Ryan cursed. 3 am. He wasnt going back to sleep. Again.

Getting to his feet Ryan didnt bother to change into fresh clothes. He had slept in his jeans why not just use them again? But he grabbed a jacket and went out into the night.

Mount Chilliad loomed in the distance as Ryan walked the dark streets of Los Santos. He could have teleported where he wanted to go, or even driven. But he didnt want to. Walking felt better, it gave agency, he decided where his feet went, no one else.

"Oh Thank Fuck! I've been looking everywhere for you!" Ryan jumped, ready to fight and run from the handlers. When recognition snapped his mind from bad memories.

Standing before him was Jeremy, holding a tiny wiggling bundle of fur. A cat from what Ryan could tell. Jeremy smiled nervously, but relief was evident in the smaller man's eyes.

"Look, uh. Fuck I suck at this shit. Let's go inside yeah? We are near a place I own. Come on." Jeremy ushered Ryan towards a nearby apartment building. Ryan followed wordlessly, but obediently. At the door Jeremy hopped around a little.

"Keys, keys. Uh Hey Rye mind.holding him for a sec?" Jeremy then thrust the cat into Ryan's hands who finally got a good look at the little fur ball.

They were a tiny black kitten, fuzzy and wiggling furiously. What stood out the most was that it was missing a front leg.

The door clicked as.Ryan made eye contact with the little kitten. His chest tightened and his mind whirled as he looked into the kittens little eyes. Then it looked at Ryan's jacket and started burrowing into one of the interior pockets. Ryan felt a purr resonating out of the tiny cat from in his jacket and through his ribs. His chest began to unclench and suddenly he was.aware he was inside a studio apartment.

There were art supplies everywhere. Everything from Yarn and Knitting needles, to paints and canvases to wood sculptures, and musical instruments were strewn about. Jeremy hopped around the room over to a ragged old bed, kicking off his shoes as he went.

"Well, make yourself at home. Dont mind the mess things just get thrown around alot." Jeremy said sheepishly. Ryan picked his way through the room, his eye moving around and soaking up all the little pieces. The space felt lived in not just visited like the safe houses.

"Is this a safe house?" Ryan asked as he sat down on the bed. Jeremy shook his head.

"Nah. It's my apartment. Before I joined the Fakes I lived here. Still try to come back, sometimes you just need your own place you know?" Jeremy explained. There was a tense silence for a few minutes then Jeremy spoke.

"Michael and Lindsay were being a bitch." Ryan tensed ready to run. "No please just, hear me out?"

Ryan froze, suddenly aware he had gotten up to leave. Jeremy had his arm, and the Kitten purred even louder than before. Ryan sank back onto the bed.

"Look. I dont know what your life was like before you joined us but it obviously wasnt even a little bit good. Actually it sounds like it was fucking awful." Ryan laughed dryly.

"That's putting it lightly."

"Yeah no shit. But it's not stupid to feel shit." A pause. " If not having a Last name bugs you why dont you give yourself one?"

"Its not..."

"Not that simple yeah?" Jeremy finished Ryan nodded as the kitten crawled out on Ryan's lap.

"Alright, well. Do you think you can tell me why?" Jeremy asked. Ryan thought, eye down on the kitten as the little guy curled up on his lap without a care.

"Its not the same. It belongs to a family. I cant be a family of one." Ryan insisted and Jeremy shook his head.

"Ok two things. One. Thats a load of horseshit and who ever told you that was dumb as fuck. And two. There is more to it isnt there?" Ryan stayed silent. Running his fingers through the Kitten's fur. Jeremy began to whisper. "You're human, Rye. Just cause someone says you arent doesnt make it true. I know that one."

Ryan froze he didnt expect anyone to pick up on that. The whole Not human but was always somewhere in the back of his mind, eating at him. Jeremy wrapped himself around Ryan hugging him tightly. Ryan shook as he melted into the other man's touch, a few tears spilling out.

"You know. My family abandoned me when I was a teenager. Said I was a monster just cause I kissed both guys and girls. Not exactly dubious experiments but it is dehumanizing all the same. I kept my last name though. I did it as a big old fuck you to them. They died during one of the Fake's heists. Got to watch then burn myself. But the name never connected me to them, a name connects you to who ever you want it to." Jeremy was quiet as he spoke, his voice against Ryan's skin as he pressed into Ryan's neck.

Something was bubbling in his brain, but Ryan had no idea what it was. And right now was not the time to figure that out.

A small Meow pulled the two away from one another. The little kitten was trying to climb up Ryan's jacket between the two. As it scrambled up Jeremy laughed, and Ryan felt a chuckle escape his throat. The kitten then flung itself over Ryan's shoulder, it's one front paw kneading his shoulder blade and purring up a storm.

"I forgot this little guy was here." Jeremy said through a laugh. A pause, then Jeremy smiled softly. "Ya know, I was going to take him to the shelter. Geoff won't let me keep any animals. But I think you should take him."

"You just said-" Ryan began but Jeremy shook his head.

"I'm not allowed any animals. Geoff never said anything about you keeping a pet. And hey! Now you have another family member! You can give him a first name and a Last name of your choice!" Jeremy beamed at Ryan who smiled a little.

The sun rose as the Battle Buddies walked into the penthouse. The morning news was filling the living room, telling the story of several Petstores that had been robbed of supplies in the night.

"And what a coincidence, you both have Pet stuff." Geoff hissed as he sucked back more.coffee.

"Yeah well, Ryan's got a cat now so you gotta have toys and a litterbox to you know?" Jeremy said as he dropped a giant bag of cat food next to the kitchen Island.

"I thought I said no pets!" Geoff shouted, his voice cracking.

"Yeah but only for Jeremy." Ryan pointed out. "Abd Finnieas isnt a pet. He's family."

Geoff paused, Ryan knew the gears were turning. Geoff groaned.

"Ugh! Fine! You can keep the damn cat!" Geoff hissed. "And Finnieas? The hell kind of name is that?"

"Ih his full name is Finnieas Gavallo Haywood thank you." Ryan insisted with an air of dramatics. Jeremy giggled and kept in front of Ryan who held the kitten before him.

"A poud name Haywood! Ancient and divine! Dating all the way back to 4 hours ago!" Jeremy exclaimed. Geoff laughed.

"Alright you dolts get a move on. I'm going to text Jack and let them know you two caused the morning rukus." Geoff said. Jeremy took off down towards Ryan's room, a bag of cat toys in hand. As Ryan went to follow, Geoff got up off the couch. He placed a hand on Ryan's shoulder and gave a lop sided smile.

"Haywood's a good name. You know. I picked Ramsey myself when I built this crew. Jack took Patillo at that time to." Geoff then walked away, pulling out his cellphone and typing.

Finnieas purred as Ryan took in the unspoken message.

A name may seem like a Little Thing, but it holds importance all the same. And sometimes you need to give yourself those Little Things to heal.

[borhapstyles]

Headcanon: Meeting Ben

Not a request, but just kinda wanted this cause I think about it too much lol 

Although I promise I’m not ignoring the millions of headcanon requests inside my inbox I just need to sort my life also who wants to take my classes for me at uni I’ll pay u in love 

I’ll probably end up editing this some time later on cause I’m not fully happy with it but I just wanted to get something out for you guys, enjoy x

For Ben, he just knew you were the one

Perhaps not right away, because he never quite believed in love at first sight

But from the moment that he saw your smile, heard your life and the intonation rise in your voice when you spoke about something that excited you

He knew he couldn’t just let you go

and he never quite wanted to

For you, however, you didn’t quite know what to make of yourself

You were a fan of Ben’s, to say the least, and for as many fanfics as you read of him

You weren’t naive to think that he’d just look at you and fall in love

but of course, you always had a sliver of hope that he might at least find you pretty

((he does, he always does shhhh))

so when you saw him across the street from you in London

you couldn’t believe he was genuinely right there

just chatting with two other guys outside a cafe

and you were sure Joe would be jealous if he saw this

there was a big part of you that didn’t want to bother him

a part that felt scared to even walk over because you didn’t to embarrass yourself

but you knew that if you didn’t go say hello at least, you’d regret it for the rest of your life

so you sped up your pace and crossed the street to where he was standing, his back facing you 

and you stood still for just a second, admiring this view of him and 

your heart was racing like never before, palms sweaty and stomach just churning

“Ben!” you called out. you had shouted it but you were almost reluctant to

and he turned around, eyes bouncing to find who just called him

you waved at him slowly, the biggest grin on your lips

Ben then smiled and took a couple steps towards you

it took everything in you not to faint right then at there because he smiled with his teeth when he looked at you and homeboy never really does that

“h-hi, sorry if I bothered you, I’m a really big fan of yours and I just wanted to say hello.. I guess” you said before laughing at yourself

Ben also chuckled and nodded and said something along the lines of how you’re not bothering him

“no, no, not at all, thank you for being a fan.” his smile grew even bigger

and you’re sliiiightly more relieved as he seemed okay speaking with you

you had read a few encounters of fans meeting Ben and was told he was very sweet in person

but it was nice to actually experience it for yourself

but what reaally made you happy was the fact that he seemed to carry the conversation

“are you visiting London? not to sort of state the obvious but i think from your accent you don’t sound like you’re from here”

let’s pretend you’re not from england / london if u are ok ok 

aaaaaaand that’s when you two spurned into a conversation about places to visit, restaurants to eat at

Ben went so far as to tell you his favorite place to eat in London

which I mean, Ben knew the dangers of because he knew you were a fan

but something with you felt far safer, and somehow he felt okay with the idea of running into you there

in fact he wanted to

and no matter how much of a dork Ben could be at times

he also knew his way around words and would throw in a compliment every once in a while, hoping you’d catch it

and you did, your cheeks turning redder every time

and Ben wasn’t even aware of it but he had this habit of biting his lip and he seemed to do that a lot with you

he also didn’t realise how long he was speaking with you until his friends called him

“hey, Ben, we’re actually gonna head off, not sure if you’re still planning to come with us”

and suddenly you’re both embarrassed and sad

cause you took up what was apparently a good chunk of his time while also realising that you’d probably never see him again

but on the other end, Ben’s rather torn

he had a lads day out with his friends planned and was also slightly embarrassed cause 

if he’s honest

he forgot they were there when he was listening to you talk

Ben knew you for a total of 10 minutes but already loved the sound of your voice

he was also kinda scared to ask you out right then and there in front of his friends

also kinda scared to be rejected by you, he didn’t want to assume anything of you

so for a moment he was just kinda like uuhhhhhhh

so you were like “oh my god, I’m so sorry I took so much of your time! I’ll let you go, I didn’t mean to interrupt your time with them”

and Ben’s like “no, no, you’re not, it’s been really lovely chatting with you actually” 

and a part of you gets sad when he says this cause it means he really will be leaving

not that you expected him to do anything to stay with you but one can dream

so you smiled, really wide, and said “I’m gonna head inside and grab a coffee so I’ll let you guys head off”

“oh, oh right, yeah, this place has some of the best coffe in London” 

so you stepped ahead towards the shop, feeling Ben’s eyes on you

but part of you wanted one last word with him, one last excuse to talk to him 

so you turned around and made eye contact with Ben, smiling just for a moment 

and right before you were going to ask him a question about drinks 

his friends stepped in, having read his eyes and just knowing they didn’t want to be cockblockers

“actually, mate, I just got a text from the wife, she’s not really feeling well so I need to go home to her”

and his other friend, scrambling for an excuse, was like “y-yeah, there’s some things I need to take care of for today actually, so I need to go do them...”

so they leave you two before he can say anything 

and Ben’s cheeks were blushing really hard and he blinked at you for a moment before the two of you laughed

and you licked your lips, genuinely stunned at the moment

Ben’s just thanking his lucky stars that that happened

“I was just going to ask you what I should get here but it looks like you just got abandoned by your friends” you laughed

and Ben’s like “that’s alright, I think I’m in better company now”

so you’re like oh that’s how this is gonna be huh Benjamin

“well you’re welcome to join me for some coffee”

“I’d love to”

and when inside, Ben paid for your drink no matter how much you insisted on doing it yourself

and you two managed to grab a cute little table in the back of the cafe, right in the corner underneath a lovely painting

where you and Ben ended up chatting for hours

about everything really, from places he could visit in regards to your own hometown / area, to your favorite films, to songs he recommended for you 

and you two eventually felt like you had known each other for ages

a couple fans actually came up to Ben later in the day, taking photos with him

and they stared at you curiously

but you said nothing and Ben knew he’d see it later on social media

and get texts from the boys about it

but honestly

he couldn’t give two fucks

because he wanted more with you, that was certain

and eventually it would’ve come out

if he could wish for it, then he would have you around him for a while

so that’s exactly what happened

from that afternoon came the courage Ben grew to ask you on a proper date

and another

and another

eventually in bed one lazy Sunday afternoon 

you took Ben’s hand in yours, playing with his fingers and said

“you don’t know how glad I am that you were at that cafe that day”

and Ben’s like “you don’t know how glad I am that you were even near that cafe in London that day. you could’ve been anywhere”

“but I wasn’t, cause I was right where I needed to be” you replied

then Ben kissed the top of your head

then you said “i really wanted you to stay, i’m so grateful that your friends left, i mean i love them, but i didn’t want you to go”

and Ben laughed and was like “i would’ve stayed anyways, don’t worry on that. or else i would’ve found you, either way, i would’ve ended up back with you”

and then you just laid there, head resting on his bare chest, admiring the afternoon sun and staring at the painting that reminded you very much of the same one in that cafe 

“wish we could stay like this forever” you sighed

Ben rubbed your fingers against his, going particularly around your ring finger

you noticed his silence but decided not to say anything about it until he pulled a ring into view from your other hand

and part of you was like where did that even come from

but then Ben said “well then why don’t we?”

you were in shock at this point and Ben just grinned 

“will you marry me, y/n?” 

I feel like this massively sucked, i’m so sorry. i just whipped this out when really i should’ve done my sociology reading but i love you guys and also i just wanted to make something cause i’ve been watching a lot of London vlogs and I’m waiting for the day I meet the love of my life but this will have to do

may or may not make some sort of little series out of this?? cute little story of your life with Ben thing, kinda like my Harry series but who knows, lemme know what you think xx

[lifeinahole27]

Fic Bits 2018: Part 3

SO. One happy morning, I went to post this from my drafts and my dumb fat finger hit “delete” instead of “queue” and then I got sucked into work forever and ever and ever and never got around to posting part 3 of these. Incredibly delayed but here are the ones that fit into canon or headcanon or canon-adjacent. 

Included in this pack: 

“Winter Bliss Firsts” - a little look at how Emma and Killian celebrate their first holiday season after the dust from the Black Fairy all settles. Fluff - G.

“In His Own Eyes” - I got a request for whump, which is not something I write. Ever. So this is a bit of reflection. Killian-centric, slight angst? - PG-13.

“A Definite Improvement” - Some Captain Cobra and the evolution of their relationship after life has settled down. Fluff - PG? Sure.

“Winter Bliss Firsts”

With the Black Fairy vanquished and their lives back on track, Emma and Killian soon find a rhythm as they settle into their new partnerships – both as husband and wife, and sheriff and deputy.

Emma’s favorite is when winter finally hits in full force, the Maine weather forecasts getting bleaker by the day, to most.

To Emma, it means that less people will be out trying to cause trouble in their magical little town, which means they aren’t really needed for patrol a majority of the time.

If the Bug won’t even move from the curb, then who else is going to really try to start something out there in the blizzard?

Day after day, they sink into their little haven; they light the fireplace and curl up on the couch, enjoying the peace and solitude when it’s just them, and welcoming Henry into their space when he’s not spending time with Regina.

The greatest thing about all of this is that they never had to figure out custody or a schedule – Henry just drifts between the households, spending time with his mothers and his step-father as if it was the most natural set-up of all.

They’re never grasping for their alone time, and they’re never feeling neglected at their happy Victorian household.

When it’s Christmas time, Emma makes Killian go out to find a live tree for the first time in his life. He and David end up with the job of cutting down and hauling the trees.  

Emma and Snow “help” from the sidelines. Henry documents everything with both camera and pen, adding the tale to their storybooks.

Despite the fact that he knows almost nothing of the holiday, Killian easily goes along with the decorating, the baking, the traditions.

He is especially fond of the small cluster of mistletoe she posts above the door, kissing her every chance they get.

Emma enjoys watching him acclimate even further into modern living, still fascinated by the glimpses of Enchanted Forest and pirate that she sees peek out at random times.

But as the winter goes, so does his confusion to a lot of pop culture references.

The Christmas tunes easily get hummed and sung when she’s least expecting him to join in.

But he still throws down doubloons at Granny’s as a form of payment.

(Actually, she’s pretty sure that’s strictly for the reaction he gets from Granny, but he never says one way or the other.)

What she does know is that no matter how cold it gets outside, she always has Killian by her side to keep her warm.

Every once in a while, Emma thinks of the way he told her there’d be no getting rid of him after their wedding day.

And really? She couldn’t be more thankful that he was telling the truth about that.

“In His Own Eyes”

Despite his nature of being a bit of a scoundrel, Captain Hook is getting tired of all the times he’s been tied or chained to items since meeting Emma Swan.

There’s the knife to his throat, shortly followed by being tied to a tree and offered as food to an ogre. It reminds him of being trapped against the mast of his ship when Rumplestiltskin took his hand and his love, and he doesn’t like it one single bit.

She chains him up at the giant’s lair, refusing to believe he could be helping her – to be fair, he’s been waffling at best on whose side he’s on – but still, the nerve.

Then there’s Cora trapping him against the wall of that cave, his own Hook pulling at the fabric on his chest. His insides heave at the thought of this woman, but if she’s his only way to skin a crocodile, then he has to stay on course.

The darkness of his heart and soul consumes him so often that he genuinely doesn’t care if it’s bodily harm or a verbal lashing from any of these supposed heroes. All he knows is that he will have his revenge, even if he has to get hit by a bloody motor vehicle directly after.

Which is a good thing, since that’s exactly what seems to have happened.

When Killian awakes in the hospital, it’s to a chain around his wrist – again – and Emma Swan telling him that his foe is still alive. With magic. And angry.

“If I were to pick dead guy of the year, I’d pick you.”

He supposes, of course, that it wouldn’t be all that terrible to finally be free of this world and to join up with his Milah in the great beyond.

A trip to New York City to kill the Crocodile, and another journey being tied up, followed by another failure.

Time, and time, and time again, he fails and fails and fails. If he could just get his damn revenge and be on with life, it wouldn’t be so bad.

But somewhere in there he begins to believe in living again.

It might have something to do with the unstoppable force that is Emma Swan and her band of happy heroes.

It could be that kiss in Neverland.

It could be that, for the first time since he was under his brother’s command, he wants to do the good thing – the right thing.

And then it all gets taken away from him again, thanks to Pan’s bloody curse, and he’s never going to see her again.

“There’s not a day that will go by that I won’t think of you,” he tells her, just before they depart.

“Good.”

He thought having Milah die in front of him was bad enough, but having his second chance at love ripped away – to know that he has to live his life without her while she lives her life without him – hurts as much as if he’d watched her die, too.

Regardless of what happened in their missing year, all Killian knows is that he did not expect his reunion with Emma to result in injury to his person.

But he supposes even that hurts less than finding out she’s found someone new.

He seems to be destined for heartache and heartbreak, no matter how he tries.

“A Definite Improvement”

There’s a large pit of disappointment in Killian’s stomach when he walks outside with the video game controller and finds that it was all a ruse.

He’s been struggling lately to connect with Henry, and figured it was about time they started bonding. Of course, it all goes much deeper than that.

It’s not until much later that it all gets a little easier with the lad – after the world has quieted down and they aren’t in constant fear for Emma’s life.

Operation Best Man was a success, and after everything that went awry has settled, the ease with which they find harmony is astonishing.

It’s a rainy day several months after he and Emma have been married that Henry comes into the living room and turns on his video game system, and Killian tilts his head a little.

“I did tell you I’d teach you,” Henry says, handing over one of the controllers.

Killian does his best not to look too excited. Emma is out of the house visiting her parents so this is something purely for the benefit of bonding, no secondary alternatives.

After a few attempts at one of the games, however, it’s obvious it’s not going to work.

Killian was correct all that time ago when he said that the games weren’t meant for people like him. He understands what to do, and the storyline, and how he’s supposed to play, but with one less hand, he just can’t push all the buttons he’s supposed to, even if he braces it on his leg and uses his thumb on one side and the rest of his fingers on the other. It’s just no use.

“Why don’t you keep playing, and I’ll just watch?”

The next day, the system disappears from the living room, and Killian looks at the vacant spot sadly, knowing that while he and Henry have plenty to bond over, this is something that just wasn’t meant to be.

Two weeks later, Henry comes barreling down the stairs, flying out the door and down the walkway to meet one of the delivery people. He has no idea how mail gets transferred into a town that isn’t on the map but he knows better than to question such things at this point.

When Henry comes back in, he immediately goes to the kitchen and to the drawer where they hide all their miscellaneous items. He can hear the box cutter being used, and the shuffling of something being removed from a box, but he focuses on the book he’s reading, thinking that Henry has just ordered an item for himself.

He’s not entirely wrong; Henry has purchased what he calls a Wii.

“I used all my allowance and got mom to advance me some for the next month so I could order this,” he explains as he plugs in various items and finds batteries and puts a strange bar beneath their television.

Killian can feel how hard his eyebrows are drawn down in confusion, but Henry looks so excited.

“I’ll explain as we go,” he says, holding out a strange item for Killian to take hold of. “You slide that loop around your wrist and hold the controller like this.”

Killian follows the instructions, waiting as Henry fiddles with something else.

“Okay, we’re gonna make your Mii.”

“My what now?”

“Just look at the screen and press the buttons I tell you to.”

“Henry, this small thing looks nothing like me.”

“It’s not supposed to be a ringer, Killian.”

“There’s no option for facial hair.”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to live without the constant three day stubble.”

“Says the young man who has three day stubble at present and it’s just a clean face.”

“I can walk away, you know.”

“Fine, fine. Get on with it… Those aren’t my eyes.”

“No, but those are your eyebrows.”

Killian’s eyebrow jumps up at the comment.

“See! There it is!”

“Why do my eyes look like that now?”

“Those are what your eyes look like when you look at my mom.”

“I would bloody hope so, she’s my wife.”

“You just like saying that.”

“Damn right I do. What do I do with this mini-me?”

“It’s just a Mii. And we’re going to play games with him now.”

“We tried this, lad.”

“We tried old school. Now we’re going with motion technology. There’s another part we could use, but we’ll skip the games that use that so you don’t have to be left out.”

He almost cries.

That’s a lie; he does cry. But he wipes it away quickly as Henry is explaining how they’re going to play something called “tennis” and he is awful at it at first but soon he’s catching on.

“Wait wait, pause the game,” he tells Henry after no more than twenty minutes of game play.

He shuffles the strap off his wrist and sprints upstairs, flinging off vest and button-up shirt as he goes, finding one of the t-shirts he normally reserves for sleeping in during cold nights.

When Emma arrives home from work, he and Henry have both soaked through their shirts and have exhausted their games list.

“Should… should I even ask?”

Both of them shake their heads, too tired to even try speaking as they lie on the pieces of furniture closes to them.

She comes back after she sets down her keys and hangs up her jacket, handing them each a tall glass of water and grabbing one of the remotes off the coffee table.

“I’ll take on whoever recovers first. Loser makes dinner tonight,” she states matter-of-factly. Her shoes are off, she’s back in leggings and a t-shirt, and her hair is tied up. Killian idly wonders when she managed to change when he swears she was only home for seconds before she brought them water.

Then he looks across at Henry, and Henry looks back at him, and they’re both scrambling from their prone positions trying to grab for the remote because that’s a challenge they’re willing to take on.

(They both end up making dinner, because they both lose to Emma despite their very best efforts and hours of practice.)

(“Beginner’s luck,” Emma says, her smile saying otherwise as she sits on the counter and watches them work side-by-side.)

(Killian wouldn’t have it any other way.)

[formerlyrunephoenix6769]

A Heroes Welcome.

Summary.

Who is there after the bullets have stopped and the cameras are no longer rolling? 

Companion piece to Shattered. Occurs before the events of Reflections.

---- x- -- 

She’s the poster child for Overwatch, just about everyone knows her name or her face. Over the years, public opinion had slowly turned against the organisation, giving way to protests that on occasion had turned violent and eventually the PETRAS act. It had been a few years, give or take a few months since the fateful day Watchpoint Switzerland had been reduced to a crater. Since then new information had come to light about corruption and the legacy Overwatch had left behind was far from unsullied. For days headlines dominated the big screens in Piccadily Circus, now it had given way to holopad news sites on the subway, people often discussing, over coffee or on their daily commute, some new thing Overwatch had done or one of the agents had said. Others sat in pubs watching the wide screen telly, vocally passing harsh judgements and nasty comments, much like they had done when Dr Angela Zieglar, ashen faced and with black circles under her eyes from exhaustion, as the most senior living member of the team, had been forced to give evidence in a tribunal about Overwatch’s dealings, televised from The Hague. Now the ex-Overwatch agents were scattered all over the world. Some had taken strides to move forward, to attempt to rid themselves of Overwatch’s far reaching shadows. Others, such as Winston and Lena, had not been so lucky. Being the name and face of the once respected peace keeping force, had its draw backs. .

One such day, Tracer and her girlfriend, Emily are nestled in a high backed booth at the King's Head trying to have a spot of lunch and a pint. A group of drunken punters, in football jerseys were waiting for the match to start, only for a fresh news bulletin to come through, the sombre BBC news anchor and a political 'expert' are debating whether oversight of Overwatch should have happened sooner. A collective groan rings out and the group began to rowdily debate how useless or oppressive they had been. The war is over, don't you know? They are a relic of an old time, who did they think they were pontificating about right and wrong when all along they had been corrupt to the very core?

The footage of Numbani plays over, of Tracer flickering in and out of existence.

A guy barks with laughter, not knowing that within ear shot sits Overwatch's chipper mascot.

"The silly cunt got what she deserved!"

The barman's eyes dart over to land on Emily.

"Leave it out, Trevor."

One bloke fakes a high pitched girly scream, whilst another attempts a roar beating his chest like King Kong.

"I bet you, she fucks the gorilla."

"That's enough!" The barman shouts, his eyes once more flickering in Emily's direction. "I wont have that sort of talk in here. It's a family establishment."

Tracer’s knife and fork hovers in mid-air at their cruel words, they don't know or maybe they just don't care that good agents risked their lives for the peace they take for granted and that some of those agents didn’t return. And as her cutlery hovers, her face falters a little. Emily reaches out, with a soft hand on Lena's trembling one.

“Dont listen to them.”

Tracer flashes a weak smile, nodding,

“I know, I shouldn’t." Carefully placing her knife and fork on her makeshift napkin, she slides out of the booth. "...... I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

In the bathroom, she splashes water on her face and tries to dab it dry with a paper towel, her gaze lands on newspaper and magazine cut outs, stuck to the wall, of her and her team mates with lewd comments attached, or defaced with devils horns, eyeballs scratched out and bulls-eyes over their foreheads.

“Whore!” ‘Death to Ow!’

It takes all her strength not to cry on her way back to the booth. She tells Emily about the graffiti, who tries to make her laugh by showing her one she found on the subway of a flying overlord Mercy, with ridiculously large knockers, shooting lasers out of her eyes, incinerating teeny tiny stick figures who were gripped in chaotic panic.

“I’m going to send it to her.”

Lena giggles,

“You would never!”

“I’mma gonna do it.” Emily playfully threatens.. Pressing the button, she proudly grins. “Sent!”

Slipping the phone in her pocket, they prepare to leave. Emily goes to pay the check and the group of punters are still griping about Overwatch except this time their conversation has taken on a blue hue, discussing loudly who they would and wouldn't fuck. As Emily accepts her change from the server, she sees Lena waiting by the side door, cheeks aflame, her head hunkered down into her shoulders like a turtle in an attempt to make her already tinyself as small as possible.

This woman, who was sweet and kind and goofy, this woman who didn’t think twice about throwing on her jacket and guns the first second she heard on the police band radio that people might be in trouble. Who wouldn’t think for a second not to blink through a burning building. Who wilfully stopped muggers on the street and believed that there was good inside people, even if it needed a little coaxing. This woman couldn’t sit down in the home city she had saved on numerous occasions, to a nice plate of fish and chips in peace?

Collecting her change, she walked past the punters only to hear one of them loudly exclaim,

“I’d bend that Tracer over, and I’d Slipstream something into her.” The rest of the group broke into gales of laughter as he gestured with a thrust of his hips

Incensed, Emily whirled round, only for Lena to grab and gently tug her sleeve,

“It’s alright, Em....”

“But, Lena.. It’s not.”

“Leave it off... No point making a fuss. Just a bunch of lads having a laugh. No harm done, eh?” Once again she flashed that altogether too bright and brittle smile..”It’s part of the job, innit? Being famous an all that!” She gave a toss of her head in an attempt to dislodge a lock of hair out of her face.” I’m used to it.”

At that, something inside Emily broke.

“Lets go home.”

As they stepped out onto the overcast streets of London, she slipped her arm through Lena’s in a bid to get closer and glean some of her warmth. Maybe it was the chronal accelerator or maybe it was just Lena, but she somehow always seemed toasty, and Emily was often left wondering how the ex-pilot could run about in leggings and a blue zip up hoodie. Lena walked with her hands shoved in her pockets, and her head bowed in her blue hood. As they meandered down the street, Emily’s phone pinged. Fishing it out of her pocket, she quickly swiped right, reading the message she giggled, bringing Lena out of her morose mood,

“What?”

“It’s Angela.”

Lena’s eyes lit up slightly,

“Lemme have a look.”

It was a photo of a disapproving Angela, a goofy Fareeha, bent double, laughing in the background with the caption.

‘I know at least 6 ways to kill a man, undetected. They won’t find your body for days.’

As if sent by vengeful gods, the heavens burst, huge globular raindrops battering the pavement, the sort that if one hit you it would drench you to your skin. With a squeal, the two girls dashed to a nearby doorway, taking refuge in the wide awning of what used to be a bank. A small girl clutching her mother’s hand, blinked and gasped. Her eyes going wide at the sight of Tracer.

“Mummy!” The little girl excitedly tugged on her mother’s hand. “Mummy, look!”

The mother distractedly engrossed in her phone, replied,

“What is it darling?”

“Mummy, look it’s Tracer!”

“Dont be silly dear”

“It is!” The little girl pulled a little harder.

The mother looking up from her phone, glanced at Emily and Lena before doing a double take.

“Cheers love,” Tracer saluted cheerfully, “The cavalry’s here.”

The little girl squealed in delight, vibrating, like she had her own mini chronal accelerator. Lena crouched down so they could both be eye height,

“What’s you name?”

“Poppy.”

“That’s a really pretty name. And what do you want to be when you grow up.”

“Just like you.” She grinned a gap toothed smile. “Mummy can we have a picture?”

“No, dont bother the lady.”

Looking up from her crouched position, Lena smiled,

“It’s no trouble at all.”

Pulling her daughter a little closer, the mother tersely replied,

“I’d rather not.”

“But Mummy!” Came the high pitched, upset whine.

Lena turned her attention back to the little girl. Straightening her lapels, she said in mock seriousness,

“Dont ever forget, the world could always use more heroes.”

She winked.

The little girl puffed out her little chest, nodding, attempting a little salute of her own.

“Come along Poppy.”

“But Mummy!” The little girl began to protest.

“Be a good girl, Poppy," Lena encouraged in her bright cockney accent, "And listen to your Mum, kay!”

The mother began down the street while the small girl reluctantly followed, waving goodbye enthusiastically to Lena, who returned the gesture. She remained crouched down, in the darkening early winter evening, on the grey busy streets of London, head bowed. Emily reached out a hand to rub her back, when Lena whipped round in a flurry,clinging to Emily for dear life, body racking with sobs. Wrapping her arms around her, she pulled Lena in close as she could, rubbing soothing patterns on her back.

“Oh Lena.” she sadly murmured.

She held her, in that doorway, in a city that wouldn’t be standing if not for Overwatch’s intervention.

“I’m sorry, Em.” Lena pulled back wiping furiously at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, “It’s just....”

Emily held her close, one hand stroking Lena’s cheek,

“Shush, it’s ok. I know. I know.”

“It’s just...” Lena started, before trailing off. “I...”

Emily took in the crestfallen look, her red rimmed, big brown eyes. Lena sucked in a sniff. Emily pressed a gentle, chaste kiss against her lips.

“It’s ok.”

She pulled her back into a hug, one hand cradling the back of Lena’s head as she sank back into her, hiding her face in the crook of Emily’s neck and green scarf. She held her, in that city bustling with people who had no idea of the sacrifice the woman in her arms had given so freely and with little expectation of anything in return. The two of them in their own personal bubble as the oblivious and often callous world continued around them.

(saved from my old blog. All ow fanfiction tagged. Feel free to like / comment/ share.

[donteattheappleshook]

Stone Hearts Chapter 3/15

Ao3

Anyone still out there?

I’m so sorry. It’s been almost a year since my last update. I don’t have any excuses except that this story is really hard for me to write because I just love it so much I’m afraid of it not living up to the story in my head and of disappointing all you lovely people who take the time to read it and leave comments or kudos.

Anyway, without further ado, here’s hoping you guys like this new chapter!

Posting unbetaed because I’m worried I won’t ever work up the never to post this if I don’t do it now.

 ***************************************************************************************

 Emma groans, rolling over on the bed and pulling the comforter over her face. It’s too early and the sun is too bright. Why, why, why did she forget to close the blinds last night? Oh, right, because a particular pirate decided to distract her as she was getting out of the shower before bed and thoroughly exhaust her beyond the point of remembering her own name, let alone something so menial as blinds. She wonders briefly if they gave anyone a show and smirks a bit at the thought. She hopes it was Grumpy. He deserves it for all the times he interrupted them.

She stretches, feeling the burn in her limbs from last night’s exertions and sighs contentedly. It’s a good burn - a reminder - it feels like a brand, one she’ll gladly carry with her forever. Because they have forever now. No more death, no more Underworld, no curses or monsters hell bent on tearing them apart - just lazy Sunday mornings spent sleeping in, curled around her true love. It still surprises her that she’s able to do that. Less than a week ago she’d thought all her chances at happily ever after were gone forever - but he’d come back to her - like he always did.

She reaches over to what’s become his side of the bed, wanting to feel his warmth and sturdiness, wrap herself around him and ignore the rest of the world today, but she freezes when her hand meets only cool sheets.

“Killian?” She starts up, heart already racing as panic begins to build in her chest, tightening around her heart, constricting. Her eyes dart frantically around the room but there’s no sign of him. No. No no no no no. Not again. She just found him. He can’t be gone again. Fate wouldn’t be that cruel. It couldn’t. She couldn’t take it. Where is he?

She jumps out of bed, barely remembering to throw her robe on as she runs to the bathroom. Empty. The panic tightens its hold. Thoughts flash through her mind a mile a minute. Images of monsters and evil gods and all sorts of darkness that could have taken him. Killian in pain. Killian suffering. Killian somewhere she can’t follow. She practically flies down the stairs, feet slipping on the steps as she stumbles into the kitchen.

Her breath leaves her all at once, the tightness in her chest loosening so quickly she nearly faints from the lightness in her head. He’s there. Standing barefoot and shirtless in the middle of their kitchen, the muscles in his back moving and flexing as he pours hot chocolate from the saucepan on the stove into her favorite mug. He turns when he hears her come in - the commotion of it.

“Swan,” he smiles, looking surprised but happy to see her. “I hoped to be back before you woke, what are you doing up so early?” Emma doesn’t answer, still too relieved to feel or think anything else except ‘he’s here’. “Swan?” he says again, a question this time and a frown pulls at his brow. He steps forward, hand and hookless wrist on her arms as he tries to meet her eyes. “What’s the matter love?”

Emma sucks in a shaky breath, feeling stupid. He was just downstairs making her cocoa and here she was imagining he’d been taken again. She doesn’t want to tell him, but the way he’s looking at her, concerned and expectant, she knows she has to - that he won’t let it go. “I woke up and you weren’t there and I… panicked.” She looks at the floor, embarrassed at her overreaction.

She glances back up when he’s silent and sees understanding and guilt wash over his face and she feels even worse. He’s the one who suffered a trauma and somehow he’s always the one comforting her. “Forgive me, love,” he says, pulling her into his arms, chin resting on her crown. “I didn’t think.”

She shakes her head, pulling back to look at him. “No. It’s silly. I just… I don’t think it’s really hit me yet that you’re here - that you’re safe - that we get this.”

His smile is affectionate. “Aye, me too.”

She buries her nose in the warm skin of his neck. “I’m sorry,” she sighs.

“What for?” he asks, fingers running smoothly over her back, through the ends of her hair.

“For being so desperate and needy.”

She can feel the smirk on his face. His breath and the stubble around his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he speaks. “I like you desperate and needy.”

Emma rolls her eyes, giving his waist a pinch and he laughs. He leans back, fingers tracing her face as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “How about from now on, I wait for you to wake?”

“You don’t have to,” she says. She really wants him to. “You wake up so early.”

His grin is a bit mischievous this time. “Spending more time in bed with you is hardly a hardship, Swan,” he teases. Emma smiles despite herself. Seriously, how the hell did she get so lucky?

“Okay,” she nods. “But only until I get this under control.”

“Of course, love,” he smirks and she knows he’s placating her - placating her need to seem stronger than she really is right now. “In fact,” he moves in closer, backing her up against the island. There’s a heat in his eyes as his hand wanders to the knot of her dressing gown. “I think it would be best to return - to bed I mean. Most pressingly.”

Emma smiles ruefully as his deft fingers work the knot free, breath catching as his fingers skim the sliver of skin revealed. She drags her hand up his bare chest, fingers tangling in the hair there and tugging the way she knows he likes. He lets out a low groan.

“I dunno,” she says. “Here seems pretty good.”

The look he gives her is downright sinful and she lets out a squeak of surprise as he hoists her up onto the countertop, the marble cold against her ass but his skin warm against her chest. He’s just worked his hand inside the opening of her robe when the door is flung open.

“Mom!” Henry shouts and Hook is suddenly five feet away from her on the other side of the kitchen. Emma rushes to pull her robe closed and turns to face her son.

“Hey, Kid,” she greets him but her face drops when she sees his panicked expression. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s mom,” he says. “I think something happened to her!”

“Woah, woah,” Emma says, stepping forward to take hold of his shoulders. Killian is suddenly there too, standing behind her and throwing Henry a concerned look.  “Slow down. Why do you think something happened to Regina?”

Henry takes a deep breath and reaches into his back pocket for a note. “She left.” He tells her, sounding a lot like the ten year old boy he used to be. “I woke up this morning and she was just gone and she left this note on her desk but it doesn’t seem right she wouldn’t just leave and -”

“All right, lad, have a seat,” Killian tells him leading Henry to a chair at the table before heading to the sink to fetch a glass of water. Emma takes the note from his hand and opens it, reading it over carefully.

“It says she has to go away a while and she doesn’t know when she’ll be back. It says she needs time. That’s all it says.” Henry sounds panicked, desperate for her to make it all better and it kills her because she can’t.

Emma throws Killian a wary glance as he returns with a glass of water and hands it to Henry with a simple ‘drink’. She hands Killian the note as Henry does as he’s told and Emma can slowly see the anxiety calm in his shaky limbs. ‘God dammit, Regina! Don’t do this to him again,’ is all she can think as she crouches down to sit at eye-level with her son.

“Henry,” Emma starts, brushing his bangs away from where they’ve fallen into his eyes. She notices the sweat caught in them. He must have run here. “Regina just lost Robin, she’s suffering…”

“But I can help her,” Henry insists sounding desperate and lost and Emma’s heart breaks. He doesn’t deserve this, Regina.

“I know you can, Kid. But sometimes, people just need to heal on their own. It’s not forever.”

“Your mother’s right,” Killian chimes in. “I’ve only ever seen Regina lash out or retreat into herself when she suffers a loss. I can tell you from experience that it’s not easy for some to be vulnerable in front of others - especially those you love most.”

“Yeah,” Emma adds. “Remember when Robin left with Marian?” Henry nods. “Just give her some time to lick her wounds. She’ll come back around soon, you’ll see.”

Henry looks down at the glass in his hand for a long moment before finally letting all the air out of his lungs in one heaving sigh. He nods. “You’re right. I think I just… panicked because I’m so used to everything being a new threat.”

Killian smiles a little. “We’ve had some of that ourselves, my boy.”

Emma takes Henry’s head between her hands and kisses his forehead. “Not anymore, okay? That’s not gonna be our lives anymore. I’m not going to let it. You hear me? For now you’ll just live here with me and Killian and from now on I want the biggest stress in your life to be deciding whether you want to invite Violet or Grace to the Spring Fling.”

Henry rolls his eyes, pulling away. “Mom!” he groans and Emma smiles. So does he.

“I mean it. No more monsters and curses. Normal teenage stuff only,” she says firmly.

Henry stands. “I’ve got to get to grandma’s ‘Welcome to Storybrooke Pancake Breakfast,’” he tells her and Emma rises with him. Ah yes, that town-wide breakfast that Emma had managed to get out of because she was sick. So was Killian. Both of them horribly, terribly sick with a cold. And the flu. And something else surely.

“Do you want a ride?”

“No, I’m good!” Henry insists a little too quickly.

Emma smirks. “Oh yeah, isn’t Violet going to be there? She lives on the way doesn’t she? She’d probably be leaving right about now…”

“Bye, Mom,” Henry says firmly with every bit of teenage ‘oh-my-god-you’re-so-embarrassing’ that could possibly fit into two words. Emma laughs as he rushes out the door.

She turns to Killian who stands looking pensively at the floor. “You’re awfully quiet,” she says, smirking. “You didn’t even jump at the chance to tease him about girls.” He continues to look at the floor, an expression between awestruck and frowning caught on his face. “Killian?” she asks again, worried.

He looks up. “Sorry, what was that, love?”

Emma frowns. “Is everything okay with you?”

Killian hums. “Yes. It’s nothing. Just…” he trails off, looking at the floor again and Emma steps forward, brow furrowing further in concern.

“Killian,” she insists.

“You said… you said the boy could live with us. You said live with me and Killian.”

“Well, yeah,” Emma says, more confused now. “I’m not going to let a fourteen year old boy live on his own.”

“No, it’s not that,” he interrupts, finally looking up at her. “I just… I didn’t realise.” He’s awkward now, reaching up to scratch that spot behind his ear.

“Realise what?” She prods.

“That I lived here.” He finishes lamely and Emma’s heart sinks a little. Oh.

“Oh,” she says. “I didn’t mean to imply… I mean if you don’t want to.” She’s at a loss for words. She’d just assumed. It’s only been a week since they got back but he’s spent every night here and he makes them breakfast in her kitchen in the mornings and she comes home to find him on her couch tinkering with some new gadget or other and she just… he chose the damn house.

“Of course I want to,” he says quickly, moving to pull her into his arms and Emma looks up at him, hopeful. “I just wanted to give you time and, well, we never spoke of it and…” He’s getting awkward again and Emma smiles affectionately at him.

“Killian,” she cuts him off, hands on his chest. His eyes snap to hers. “Do you want to move in with me?” she asks him, very seriously. She can see the grin tugging at his lips but he manages to school his features into an equally serious expression.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then it’s official. Killian Jones you now live here. In this house. That you chose,” he nearly cracks a smile at that, “with me.”

“Good,” he agrees. There’s a moment and then a huge, face-lighting, eye-crinkling smile spreads over his face before he scoops her up and swings her around in a circle in the middle of the kitchen. Their kitchen.

Emma squeals and laughs, grabbing on for dear life before he sets her down and presses a big, smacking kiss to her lips, one that has them both laughing as he does it again and again.

When he finally pulls away, Emma pauses, looking at him and she’s taken aback for a moment by how much pure, unabashed joy she feels right now. She was right when she told Henry that it was time to get back to normal. No more monsters no more curses. Just her and her boyfriend and her son living happily in the home they’re going to build together.

“What?” Killian asks when she’s silent.

“Nothing,” she smiles. “I’m just… looking forward to the future - now that we get one.”

Killian smiles. “Aye, we’ve much to look forward to,” he promises before leaning in to kiss her again, this one full of joy and hope and love. Always love.

“Come on then,” he says before bending down.

Emma lets out a cry as she suddenly finds herself upside-down, thrown over his shoulder. She doesn’t even have time to be confused before he’s headed to the stairs.

“What are you doing?” she practically shouts.

“We’re christening the bed,” he replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“We’ve already done that, you idiot!”

Killian lets out an affronted sound when she smacks his butt in annoyance. He turns his head and nips her thigh.

“We’ve christened your bed, Swan. Now we’re going to christen ours.”

Emma shakes her head but smiles all the same as she lets him carry her the rest of the way up to their room. Stupid, ridiculous, childish, wonderful, bloody pirate.

Emma jumped as her cell door swung open. Her eyes were dry, out of tears and crusted from the ones she’s already shed. For one brief moment Emma didn’t remember where she was and later she’d wish she’d been awake enough to appreciate the fleeting, blissful ignorance before she heard the lilting voice that settled like a stone in her stomach.

“Rise and shine, dearie!”

Gold. Emma was suddenly very aware of where she was as the day before came rushing back. Gold, and David, and Henry, and… Killian. It was a moment before she saw him, lurking in the doorway behind Gold – Rumplestiltskin – whatever. He stood with his hand over his sword, ready to take action. Against her. Emma wanted to vomit as she was reminded again of everything Gold had done so far. He’d turned her father, taken Henry. Used her son as a fucking bargaining chip and turned what was left of Killian into his own personal slave - his puppet.  

She wanted to hurt him. Hurt someone for everything she’d been put through. What they’d all been put through. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t care if he was under the dagger’s influence. She’d given him a chance to do the right thing. Now she just wanted blood. She charged.

Everything after happened quickly. Gold took a step back until he was out of the room then suddenly Killian was there, blocking the door. She didn’t care. She’d take her anger out on that thing that had killed him if she couldn’t get Gold. Anything to quell the rage and the hate burning through her. She felt a shock hit her body. Like magic, a force, a blast, but painful. Like running face first into a brick wall, or an electric fence, and she was blown straight across the room. Her back collided with the wall as she slumped to the ground, head foggy for a second before she looked up at the door with confusion. A spell. Some kind of protection or imprisonment spell. She should have known.

She watched as Gold put a hand on Hook’s shoulder and his slave immediately relaxed his stance, stepping back and sheathing his sword. She hadn’t even noticed he’d drawn it. It hurt. To know he’d have killed her. No, not him. She had to stop thinking like that. She had to stop looking at him and seeing Killian. He wasn’t Killian. Killian was dead. This was just… a weapon. A sword at the King and Gold’s command – a hook.

It took Emma a moment to notice that Gold was holding something in his hand. The cuff. She looked at her wrist and then back at him. He grinned at her as she looked at her hands, fingers flexing as she felt the magic surging under her skin. He knew what she was thinking.

“Go ahead and try. See how far it takes you,” he trilled. She knew she shouldn’t. That this was obviously some kind of trick. The door was sealed. The whole room was probably sealed. But what if it wasn’t? What if he was testing her? It was stupid but she had to try.

Letting all of her anger and all of her hate build up into the center of her chest, she pushed it forward through her arms, into her hands as she let out a burst of magic the likes of which she hadn’t since she was in Camelot, the darkness and the light inside of her combining into one. Both were reduced to nothing as they hit the barrier. Stupid.

Gold was grinning again. “If you’re quite done,” he began, mocking yellow eyes twinkling with amusement. “The room is sealed. But I’m sure you’ve figured that out.”

Emma glared at him. “Why’d you take the cuff off?” she demanded. Why give her back her magic?

Gold looked at her as though she’s missed something obvious. “Why, so that you can get to work of course!” he sing-songed. “We’ll be needing that heart of yours quick as you can, dearie!” Emma glared again and he giggled. “It’s quite ingenious, really,” he added. “The spell prevents you from leaving without the cuff on - no magic can come through. But you can use it to your heart’s content while you’re inside! Now tick-tock, Miss Swan, no time to waste!” And with that he waved his hand and stacks upon stacks of books appeared on the floor of her cell along with boxes full of ingredients and vials. “Oh, and should you need to leave the room for anything such as… the lavatory,” he added, handing the cuff over to Hook, “simply knock on the door and our dear captain here will return your cuff to you.”

What? No. No. She didn’t want this thing standing outside her door. The reminder, being this close to him - not him - it would kill her. She couldn’t. This was sick. Gold was sick and he knew it. She could tell he knew by the self-satisfied smirk he shot her before he vanished in a puff of red smoke.

“GOLD!” she shouted after him. She ran out the door as it slammed shut in front of her. “GOLD, you son of a bitch! Get back here! Where’s Henry? Where’s my son? GOLD!” she screamed, hands gripping the bars of the small window in the door. She rattled them - fruitlessly - but she had to do something. She couldn’t just sit there and do nothing while Henry was out there.

She banged on the door again. Screaming, cursing Gold’s name, cursing the King, cursing everyone and everything. She stepped back with rage burning through her, burning her up, feeding itself on her magic like fire on oxygen. “TELL ME WHERE MY SON IS OR I SWEAR TO GOD I’LL BE THE LAST FUCKING THING YOU EVER SEE! Do you hear me?” she screamed. “I’m not going to do what you want! I’m not your fucking experiment! WE AREN’T YOUR FUCKING PLAYTHINGS!”

She couldn’t have stopped it if she’d tried. It was like her magic took on a life of it’s own, surging out of her, out of every pore in a blast that made the whole room shake. She could see the flicker as the barrier took the blow, shuddering under it’s force. But it held strong. Emma collapsed on the floor, breathing heavy as she glared at the bars. Just barely, she saw the movement, the twitch of his head as it turned to look inside, his profile barely visible. Just the outline of a jaw, a cheek, a stupid pointed ear that she used to love. Her voice cracked as she spit the words at him.

“And you. What’s the fucking point of you, huh?” He turned back away from the window. “Are you just going to stay there and not say anything?” He didn’t move and Emma’s voice rose. “Why are you here? I can’t go anywhere so what’s the point? Why? Why you? Is this some kind of cruel joke on the King’s part? Is this how he gets his rocks off? Huh?” He was silent. “ANSWER ME!” she screamed, kicking the door. He didn’t even flinch and Emma felt tears well up in her eyes. Tears of anger. Tears of frustration. Of rage, of despair, and grief. “I just need to know,” she whimpered as the first fell hot down her cheeks. “I just need to know if he’s okay.”

There was a moment where the air hung heavy between them and she thought he might say something. Thought that maybe Killian would say something. If anyone could break through this curse it was him and Emma would have given anything for that to be true. She waited, holding her breath and willing him to say anything, to fight, to come back to her.

He walked away.

Emma’s heart broke more with every step that echoed through the empty hallway. Killian was dead. Killian was dead. Killian was dead. She repeated it to herself like a mantra. Praying it would finally sink in. That seeing that thing wearing his face would stop making her heart race and her throat burn with bile. Killian was dead. David was dead. Snow was dead. They all were. Henry… No. she couldn’t let herself think it. But he could be. They said he’d be okay if she did what they asked but what was their word worth? He could be and that though sent a numbness through her - one she hadn’t let herself feel yet. Not with any of the deaths. And she embraced it. The nothing. The nothing didn’t hurt. She’d felt it creeping around the edges for weeks, months since this all started and she just didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not when she was alone.

She didn’t know how much time had passed. She sat, staring at the florescent lights on the ceiling, laid out on the cold, cement floor. She didn’t hear the footsteps echoing through the halls again, faint and blending in with the buzzing of the lights and the humming of the pipes and the nothingness.

She heard a new sound though, loud like a rusty hinge being forced open. She looked up to see a tray being forced through what was basically a mail slot in the door.  It was dark out. No light coming through the window above her cot. It must have been hours then since she lay down.

She let her head fall back. She didn’t feel like eating. She didn’t feel like anything at all. But she felt the flutter in her stomach, a growl of hunger at the smell of whatever was being offered on the tray and she let her hand fall over the pang. With a sigh she sat up and walked the few steps to the door. She took the tray, barely registering her own actions, when she was met with resistance. He wasn’t letting go.

Emma looked up, meeting his - it’s - eyes through the bars in the darkness. The brows above them were pulled into a frown. His eyes flickered down to his hand like he couldn’t understand what he was doing, like it was hurting him. That wasn’t possible. They didn’t feel anything, didn’t think. His eyes met hers again and he released his grip on the tray. “The boy is safe.”

The tray clattered to the ground, glass shattering at her feet, food staining her shoes. Emma didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. He’d spoken to her. For the first time in months. For the first time since she got here. He’d spoken to her. Not that thing - him. She watched with her pulse racing in her throat as he turned his back to the door, resuming his post. No. No it couldn’t be him. She couldn’t let herself think that. This could all just be some play on the King or Gold’s part. But he’d looked so torn. And he’d spoken to her about Henry. He’d found out about Henry. For her. No.

Henry. Henry was safe. She didn’t know what his answering her meant but she couldn’t focus on that now. She couldn’t let herself hope for that. Henry was safe, Henry was alive and now Emma had a purpose. She had to get them out of here. She would get them out of here no matter what it took. She had to focus. She couldn’t let herself feel or hope or want. She needed to think.

Emma turned to the books that Gold had left her. She would get them out. She’d find a way. There had to be something in the books. Some way to break the seal. She would save her son. She would save - no. But as she turned through the pages of the first book, trying to shake his words - his voice - from her mind, Emma felt something.

[zoebechtle-blog]

Unlikely Chapter 11

Saturday I’d convinced my jailers to let me escape back to my own apartment. Niall wasn’t huge on the idea, I could tell, but I was scared of wearing out my welcome. And I really wanted to walk around in my underwear, something I would have been fine doing at his house if it wasn’t for the roommates. I was very much used to living alone, and being stuck with three guys, even though I was secretly in love with one and adored the other two was like living in a fraternity house. A very clean, well organized frat house, but nonetheless...beer bongs and FIFA. I missed my pink towels and Tocca hand soap, and quiet. I really missed quiet.

Deo had been feeling a bit neglected and pouty, which I pointed out to Niall that morning after we got out of the shower (shower sex was my new favorite because he had a detachable shower head that did glorious things. He offered to buy me one, as well. Finally, a gift I could get behind.). Their friend Matt was coming to town that afternoon, so I suggested that we go our own ways for the night, which he agreed to begrudgingly. He tried to get me to take Phil with me, but I assured him Aaron would be man enough to protect me. Besides, had he seen my right hook? I’d snuck on my phone before Niall woke up that morning, and googled my name. There was the shit I was expecting (including a not-flattering picture of me drunk at a football game in college), but also quite a few really, really nice comments. People genuinely happy for Niall, commenting on his adoring smile and lovesick expressions. I felt decent about the whole she-bang and confident about where it was all going.

A night of dinner and dancing was on the books as I headed out to Soho with Aaron, Hannah (Willie, too, was on the lads night), and Carly. We hit two gay clubs, and I decided it was my night’s mission to get Aaron laid while we danced to some of the best house music around. Never one to put style over comfort, I’d worn battered fuschia Chucks with my little black dress. I wasn’t looking to be picked up, and I couldn’t throw shapes in heels like Carly could. This was a night about letting loose with my friends after what had ended up being a very long week. And I was there for it. I was goofy and drunk and in love with the world. So naturally I started drunk texting Niall.

“Hi buggaboo! I miss youuuuu.”

“Petal . Have we been drinking ?”

“We? I assume you have.”

“Secret?”

“Yes .”

“I’ve been drinking. Shhhhhhh :)”

“Going to get Aaron laid. He needs ridden like a cowboy.”

“go mission babe”

“heyyyyyyy”

“hi pretty girl .”

“Where are you?”

“On the way to Libertine.”

“Need a ride?”

“Zo ?”

“you ok ?”

“Yeah. Sorry we’re moving bars.”

“Someone Carly knows is getting us into the teddy bear bar.”

“The Toy Room ?”

“Yes! You’re pretty and smart, Niall Horan <3”

So The Toy Room was almost as insufferable as Libertine, based on my previous experience with Paul. I was regretfully underdressed and not even my cleavage or Hannah’s mouth could get us a second look by the bartenders to get a drink. The buzz I had was wearing off and we’d lost Carly within seconds of arrival. Also, a girl waiting in the queue had called me Niall’s fat ass girlfriend. Spotted.

“Toy Room sucks.”

“Come to Libertine.”

“I’ll give them your name.

“Count to ninety,” I told Hannah.

“Giving them a timeframe?”

“Yup. No drinks in ninety seconds or we bo-”

“Excuse me?” A very large, very bald man with an in-ear headset tapped my shoulder.

I looked up at him with wide eyes. Whatever he said, I totally didn’t do it. Jess and I made eye contact, and she squeezed my hand. Aaron’s eyes were filled with fear. Hannah stood by, ready to get in between me and Lerch. The only times club security approached us we ended up getting kicked out for something. Or Carly was being arrested (it’d happened before).

“Zoe Bechtel?”

“Yes?”

“Mr. Styles would like to invite you and your friends to the private room.”

What? “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong person. I don’t know Mr. Styles.” Baldie repeated this information into his headset.

Hannah elbowed me in the ribs. “What? I don’t know him.”

Aaron then decided to lean in, “Z, it’s Harry Fucking Styles.”

“Yeah, even your mom wants him, Aaron, I know.” He flipped me off.

“Miss? He said he’s your boyfriend’s bandmate, and that he’d like to meet you.” I’m sure Harry wasn’t accustomed to people turning down his invitations.

“Is there booze?” I was going to need it.

The security guard grinned at me. “Tonnes.”

We were lead back to VIP by Clark (of course I’d asked for his name and was trying to get his life story). Aaron and Hannah each took one of my hands, and Hannah showed Clark a picture of Carly to see if he could round her up as well. I was nervous as hell and gnawing the nail on my index finger. Goddamn it, Niall. We passed a number of London celebutantes and other A Listers, and I was just staring at my Chucks. My life seemed to be a series of poor wardrobe choices.

“Zoe!” A deep Northern accent yelled at me, and before I could registered what was going on, I was lifted off the ground and my face pressed into a silky shirt. We were hugging. Okay. We’d reached hugging territory.

“Harry, put the poor girl down!” The voice of a nasally sounding woman called out, and I was forever grateful to her.

“Hiiiiiiiii,” the tall, dark haired man grinned at me.

“Hey,” I straightened my skirt and saw Hannah cracking up. “You’re Harry, I take it.”

“Yup. You’re Zoe. Even prettier than Nialler said. So glad to finally meet you.” He pinched my cheek. He pinched my fucking cheek. I resisted my urge to slap his hand, but before I could, he hugged me again.

“Jesus, Harold, paws off the merchandise!” A pretty blonde, the one who got me put down, stepped around him. “I’m Gemma, Harry’s much wiser sister.”

I shook her hand, liking her already, “Zoe. And my friends Hannah, Jess, and Aaron.”

Everyone shook hands, and Hannah went in for the hug on Harry. Aaron, too. Jess had the good sense to avoid eye contact and hide behind me - this is why she and I were friends. Apparently Niall and Harry had been texting (news to me - he rarely discussed his bandmates and I had no specific questions to ask. We talked about the experiences more than the people.), and Harry had invited him to the party he was hosting for a friend tonight. Niall had declined, but texted him a bit ago that I was at the club with friends. Harry had then showed four different security staff a picture of me that Niall had sent him, pilfered from my IG, and had me hunted down. Well, at least there was plenty of booze. Gemma hooked us up with vodka, and we were officially kind of fancy.

Harry took me around and introduced me to the pretty people who filled the lounge. Most could have cared less, and a few gave me down right withering looks, but at least they pretended to be polite since I was with Harry. I said lots of hellos, threw out fake smiles, gawked a bit, and noticed Aaron in the corner with a morning radio DJ who appeared to be quite the close talker. I settled down onto a lounge, and tried to find Hannah and Jess. As the minutes ticked by and they didn’t return, I stood to find them dancing with Gemma. Feeling too self-conscious to join them, and having been abandoned by Harry because something shiny had caught his eye, I plopped back, bored.

“Having me hunted down and brought to VIP, eh?”

“Not to be rude, but there are ppl in here wearing socks that cost more than my rent. HELP ME.”

“Hannah might be leaving Willie for Gemma, FYI.”

Messing with Niall was very little fun when he didn’t play along.

“Carly has appeared. And has her tits in H’s face. He doesn’t seem to mind.”

“My god, someone just asked me if I was Harry’s AUNT. AN AUNT, NIALL.”

“Fuck me, I just spilled half a bottle of Goose on Alexa Chung.”

“Tell Deo I’ll be his wingwoman for the rest of his life-just come here and save me from this personal moritification.”

“Niall, if you love me or even just like me a little, you will come take me away. It’s your fault I’m being made to socialize with pretty ppl.”

No sooner had I sent the last text than Harry plopped down next to me, holding a bottle of booze.

“Sorry, been a shit friend. Had to do the host thing.”

“Harry, we literally met an hour ago. You’re not a shit friend. It’s cool.” As I talked, he turned his body to face me.

“Nope. We’re gonna bond. You’re my Nialler’s girl which makes you one of my best friends by default,” he gave a smile so full of dimple that I could see what women swooned in his presence. He had his own energy cloud floating around him. “He said you like Jameson. I have tequila. Will that work?”

I shrugged, “I’m not picky.”

“Hey, I have those same shoes!” He had good taste at least.

Turns out, good tequila is really, really good. And doesn’t taste like a rattlesnake’s asshole (my previous description for cactus nectar). Also, Harry was a riot. By the time we’d done our third shot we had declared ourselves official best friends and started playing fashion police. He invited me to take over for his personal assistant on his film shoot. Or to leave Niall and marry him. When I informed him that I couldn’t be with a man who was better dressed than me, he pulled me into his lap for a cuddle. Hannah joined us, finally, and made herself at home on Harry’s other knee. I kinda of adored this big man child.

“So I take it you don’t need me to take you away anymore?” The Irish accent growled in my ear. I spun around, freeing myself from Harry’s grasp.

“Buggaboo!” I launched myself from Harry’s leg to Niall’s lap, grabbing his neck like a spider monkey, kissing his flushed cheeks.

“Hey, babe. I see you made friends,” he nudged Harry with his knee.

“Nialler!” Harry piled on our hug, squeezing me in the middle of them. Women worldwide would pay to be part of this sandwich. “I missed you!”

“Harold and I are going to take over the world,” I proclaimed.

“I like this one,” Harry motioned to me. “She’s evil.” In sync, he and I raised our hands to make claws and growled at Niall.

“What have I done?” He gave me his whole face delighted smile, and I shot my own back at him, caressing his stubble. God he looked

“Whatcha doin’ here?”

“You said if I loved you I should come take you away. So here I am.” Well, that was a very exact way to word the statement.

“Here you are,” I said back to him, slowly.

“Yup.” He bopped my nose.

“Because you love me.”

“Because I love you, Zo.”

“Cool.”

“Cool?” He lifted my chin to look in his eyes. Mine had tears in them.

“Yeah, it’s really cool. ‘Cause I love you, too.”

My text alert started buzzing at 7:00. We’d been home about 3 hours at that point, and Niall was snoring like a freight train next to me. I got up to try locate the missing iPhone, tripping over his boots and landing on a leopard print jacket I didn’t recognize. What the hell? Strange gasps were coming from the other room. Then my phone’s loud ring (Sherlock theme song, natch) started playing. What the the hell? I pulled myself up and stumbled into the living room, trying to locate my handbag. One Harry Styles was passed out on the loveseat, limbs askew. Jess was drooling on the sofa pillows. I located the offending technology and lifted it above my head like a trophy. Jess raised her head a bit and groaned. The call was from Paul.

“Where are you?” He sounded concerned. “Who are you with?”

“Home. Niall and Jess are here. And Harry Styles.” I blew a piece of hair out my face.

“Well, you’re going to want to get the boys up. The Sun tweeted pics of you on Harry’s lap last night and people are freaking the fuck out.”

“What? No, we were hanging out! I was on Niall’s lap most of the night.” I leaned against the counter, holding my head.

“And Harry giving you a piggyback ride outside. Your granny panties are showing.”

“Fuck! I was wearing Spanx.” Shit, this is no good, very bad news.

“Oh, I know, baby doll. I’m looking at them. And you assholes went to the The Toy Room without me? Rude.”

I worked my way back to my room and grabbed my iPad, flopping on the bed. “Let me call you back, Paulie.”

Niall raised his head, “What going on, babe?” I ignored him and went to the Twitter app, pulling up the The Sun’s account. Motherfucker. There I was, in all my glory, sitting on Harry’s lap, leaning back against his chest, both of us hysterically laughing. If you didn’t know it was nothing, it did looking semi-intimate. And then the offending Spanx pic - lord. You could actually see the stretch marks on my thighs. I slapped my head. Niall was following us and grabbing my ass as I clung to Harry’s back. I remembered stepping out of my untied shoe as we made our way outside. Harry scooped me up (surprisingly strong, that one. He only looks like Gumby.), and Niall grabbed the shoe. I could see very easily how someone would get the wrong idea about this picture. Jess and Carly were right behind Niall (Hannah had been dragged home by Willie after she tried to kiss Gemma and Aaron had disappeared with the DJ), but they’d been cropped out. We went out a backdoor into a waiting car. I didn’t recall even seeing photographers. I covered my mouth. I looked like a drunken slag.

Niall peered over my shoulder at the tablet, and made a noise that I would only describe as animalistic. “MotherFUCKERS! These are fucking cell picss - it was someone in VIP. The only person in the alley were employees of the club. I’ll fucking have them fired.” He grabbed his phone and started firing off a text.

I still sat in shock. My God, my patients’ parents would see this. My coworkers would see this. “I look like I’m about to take on both of you. My God, Niall. I look like a whore!” Tears ran down my cheeks silently.

“You’re not a whore, baby. You didn’t do anything! Fucking FUCK. You made us get kebabs and you fucking tucked in Jess and Harry. You walked Carly to her damned door because ‘bad people lurk, Niall!’”

My voice had approached shrieking, “Yeah, well, that’s not obvious here!”

Jess poked her head in the open door, “Zo, you okay?” I looked at her, shell shocked. It takes a fair amount to rattle me to the core, but we’ve reached that level. Ni looked terrified.

“C’mere.” Jess sat down beside me and wrapped me up in her arms, whispering words of comfort.

“HAROLD!” Niall got up and walked into the living room, and we heard him rattling Harry awake. “Look at this fucking horseshit!” Harry was still 90% asleep and drunk, and he groaned and made weird noises. “Look at this, Haz! They’re dragging Zoe through the fucking mud!”

“What the hell?” From the bed, we could see Harry sit up and take the iPad. “Shit. These aren’t pap shots. That was someone in the alley.”

“Yep.”

“It was one of the people out smoking, I bet. Look at the angle. Jesus Christ.” The two stared at one another, communicating silently.

“Yeah.” Niall was pulling his hair.“Get your goddamn lawyers on the phone. I’ll pay whatever fees. I want this shit gone!” I buried my head back into Jess’s shoulder.

“It’s a whole new world, baby girl.” She kissed my hair as Niall started talking to someone on the phone. Kimmy, if I was gathering it correctly. Harry was on his phone, too, talking in a low voice.

“Guys.” I walked out into the living room. Niall turned from the kitchen window, and Harry covered the speaker on his phone, reaching his hand out to me.

“I’m so sorry, Z.” He looked heartbroken, and I mussed his short hair.

“S’okay.”

“The pictures are out there, yeah?” Niall walked back into the room and sat down on the couch beside me, and put this phone on speaker. “Kim, Zoe is talking.”

“Hi, Kimmy. I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with this.” What a way to wake up on a Sunday morning - I could verify. “Anyhow, the pics are out. They’ve been retweeted. Even if The Sun pulled them would it make a difference?”

“It could,” Harry started, as Kim said, “Not really.”

We finally decided that Harry would have his attorneys look into it. He called a security guard to retrieve him and Jess, and gave me hugs, apologizing for the incident. He was headed to France to start the film soon, but he promised to be in touch. He and Niall bro-hugged and leaned their heads in, whispering to one another. I hated that me being stupid was causing Niall issues. For a boy that a week ago had really never had much public drama, he was sure getting his taste now.

He put on a huge (fake) smile. “D’ya want breakfast? We could get something delivered?” I shook my head and walked back into the bedroom, throwing myself on the mattress. My face rested on the pair of offending Spanx, and I threw them against the wall. Niall stood in the doorway and stared, chewing on his poor, abused thumbnail.

“I’m so sorry, Niall.” I said it more into my pillow than outloud. God, he’d just finally told me he loved me last night, and less than twelve hours later I wouldn’t blame him if he cut bait. “This is humiliating for you.” When all else failed, my natural instinct was to blame myself. I suddenly felt fifteen again. Kyle the Worst, my high school boyfriend, had been caught cheating on a geometry exam and kicked off the football team. It was my fault because I hadn’t prepared him for it properly, and the bruised ribs I got the evening after he was removed were my punishment. When I fought back, he slapped me across the face.  When my mom saw the wounds and told my dad, he agreed that Kyle might have been out of line, but really, why else would he be dating the smart girl? (My dad taught me how to throw a punch when I was 8 in case of bullies, but the ones you date didn’t count, I guess.) That’s how my brain processed the first twenty plus years of my life, and right now, I was back there. Seven years of progress being pushed to the side.

“Zoe, why the fuck are you sorry? Baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. My God, no.” Niall knew this story. I’d told him one night in his dark bedroom, my face buried in his chest as he rubbed my shoulders. He just listened and told me they were wrong. So wrong.

He fell on the bed and pulled me into his lap. “I’m not humiliated, I’m pissed off at the idiot who took those pics, The fuckin’ Sun, and anyone who thinks they have to right to say shit about you. I fuckin’ love you. I love you so much. I meant it when I said it last night. Wanted to tell you forever but I was too big of a pussy. My heart is breakin’ because you’re hurt and it’s because you’re with me.” He was crying, too. My God, I’d made him cry.

“No! No crying!” I furiously rubbed at his cheeks, trying to get them stop by friction alone.

“Then no cryin for you,” he mimed my actions, making me laugh. “There’s m’girl. Listen,” he lowered his eyes so we were staring directly at one another, “I will fight someone to the death for you. It’s only been two months, but I’m pretty sure you’re the love of me life, Zo. I knew I loved you the second I saw your smile in person. Cupid shot me in my arse. I tried to pretend it was somethin’ else until that night you played with my hair and wore my hat. I was so far gone for ya. Ya get me. You’re smart and kinda. Ya make me laugh my tits off. And you’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever met, inside and out. Everytime I see ya I feel like my heart is gonna jump out of my chest.”

Well now the tears were for a completely different reason.

[fmlfpl]

Lineup Lamentations - GW13

Our Transfers, Captains, and Starting 11s for the week!

And if you missed it for subscribers Friday My Life episode just came out!

—

WALSH

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Salah, Pukki, Nketiah

IN (for -4 points hit): Dendoncker, Kane, Vardy

Time to shake up the squad with my first hit of the season.

Mo and this ankle situation feels like not something I want to be monitoring or thinking about in the near term so once I decided to bin him the moves made themselves.

I am back in on Kane.. my lover and FPL mistress will always be welcomed back to both either of my bosoms. I am all in on Mou bouncing them and sticking Kane back to traditional nine as he has done in years past. I have idea who will play in midfield or where but I do believe that Kane will be back up top with no fucking about and he will get them to feed the machine. I've got most of my other bases covered and this just felt like the best way to give me points. Gives me a horse who will start and play all these games as well as strengthening my bench with that Livp blank on the horizon.

Let's go Harold you lad.

Vardy still sucks.

GK:

Pope (wat)

Pope somehow got points last gameweek so maybe it will beget more points in this. He only has two more good fixtures before they turn so hopefully he can put some more points on the board. Been feeling antsy with him but not sure I'll have a transfer to spew on GK in the near term. TBD.

DEF:

Alexander-Arnold & Robertson (cry)

Trent and R0bbo still plod along game on game as Livp do their best Fulham impression at keeping cleans. Robbo knocked is a worry but meh he'll prob play. Whatever.

Good fixtures run for these so hoping that they finally kick into gear and keep some cleans to repay my faith.

Lundstram (MUN)

Pointstram obviously is in there as he will be for the rest of the season assuming he doesn't die or get dropped. Not a great feel with Manchu rolling in without Hendo and possibly with Jagz in there but whatever. Who knows which version will show up? I do not.

Rico (WOL)

Last is Rico. Ugh vomit poop. No faith in him and I hate him for the points he has gotten me on the bench. Somewhat reasonable on paper fixture so he's going to try his best to get me two points instead of one point. Time will tell.

MID:

Only three lonely mids as I have an eye to turn this trio into a duo.

Sterling & De Bruyne (CHE)

Raz and Kev are still chilling and I feel fine holding them both for a while. I believe in City and I think that points are coming for these two.

Mount (mci)

Mount somehow is still in my team despite drawing a lot of my disdain recently. Not much to say about him other than he is biding time in my team for me to build up an extra transfer to turn him into fodder and go 523.

FWD:

Kane (whu) & Vardy (bha) & Abraham (mci)

Forward group looks like point central with Kane Vardz and Tamela.

I guess Tam and Vard at this point are just like empty spots since everyone has them? Kinda? Either way, I guess it's good to have the good players who get points.

CAP:

Kane (whu)

Silly if you thought I wouldn't back big Harold in his first Mou game.

Come on Harry! Show us old Harry new manager bounce come on harry be a great guy i love you harry get me some goals assists and points come on harryyyyyy.

I can see the headlines now: "Mourinho struggles to a 0-0 draw at the Olympic in first game as King of the Potatoes" yipeee.

—

ALON

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Hudson-Odoi, Kelly, Lowton, and Pukki

IN (for -8 points hit): Maddison, Guilbert, van Dijk, and Connolly

WOW.

Here we are.

I think Walsh being very mad and very frustrated for two weeks and on the last normal pod has rubbed off on me a bit. I mean hits are also in my nature and I have a good track record of hits... It’s not that much of a stretch considering for two weeks I’ve been basically nailed on gonna take a -4 to get to -8 just one more click ya know?

My team was very flagged and in trouble as you can see I’ve removed a red flag backup in CHO, a backup in Kelly (Ward is fit), a player bombed out of the 11 in Lowton, and the old bald shtity guy who plays for the worst team in the Premier League... As far as -8s go pretty fucking good to get rid of a total of 2 points.

As for the guys I brought in Connolly was a panic like two weeks ago when Pukki was dropping again I made the early move of bringing in the now red flagged Connolly but it’s fine he’s gonna ride the bench anyway and should be back soon... The last trio came together literally last second right after Friday My Life I found a set of three that I like and all fit perfectly and just fucking did it.

Maddo is good, despite being down on him (or at least MORE down then most people) I still always said yes he’ll tick and get points, and Goodman kinda convinced me more on him from the Fireside.

I back Liverpool to start keeping cleans now that they don’t have the ridiculously bad fixtures anymore and VVD will start every single match in the pileup. He’s also kinda cover for me since the ownership between Trent/Robbo/Alisson is very high.

And lastly Guilbert Fred Gilbert comes in. He’s been pretty good and attacking since GW3 when he started starting but more importantly for my team he rotates very well with Soy/Tomori so the upcoming fixtures that I’ll be starting Guilbert in are home Newcastle this week, home Southampton in GW18, and home Norwich in GW19. Maybe more, who knows, but that’s the plan.

Alright long transfers section is done and I still feel good about the hit. I’m happy (for now).

GK:

Gazzaniga (whu)

Fortress Mou cometh. Cleans cometh. Let’s go.

DEF:

van Dijk (cry)

Oh hey bro welcome to the squad you almighty being.

Not feeling fantastic about a clean away and Liverpool usually play like shit after international break but it’s certainly possible with Palace’s shitty ass attack.

Lundstram (MUN)

Really hope that Egan comes in so it’s not a Jags absolute shit-show disaster. Still worried about no Hendo. Worried in general about this one have a bad feeling about the clean but you know Lund can get attacking returns vs. anyone and it’s home so let’s go Lundy.

Söyüncü (bha)

One of four guys that I’ve had since GW1; I fucking love Soy.

Away is tougher then home for this clean but I still expect it and expect Leicester to control and kill the match.

Guilbert (NEW)

Another new bro getting in there.

Newcastle somehow have been generating attack lately (Saint-Maximin in) but I still consider them the worst attack or at least bottom three attack in the division so home vs. Newcastle to me is as good a chance of a clean as any.

And maybe Fred is feeling saucy and gonna throw in an assist???

MID:

Salah (cry)

No words... if he plays then he’s captain material. If he plays but isn’t fit then fuck me. If he doesn’t play then really fuck me... Sweating the teamsheet a lot on this one as he might go from not a problem at all to a big problem very quickly tomorrow morning.

Sterling & De Bruyne (CHE)

I still back the MCI guys to score lots of goals and points and haven’t thought about ditching either yet. And I think that City are gonna score a lot of goals vs. Chelsea like at least three in my opinion so I love this match from FPL perspective.

Maddison (bha)

New friend.

Passes into the box / key passes / Casino merchant / cunt, he really ticks every box for me. Just gonna sit back and watch the points trickle in... Or the points’ll dry up and I’ll fucking hate myself for not backing myself.

TBD.

FWD:

Vardy (bha)

Duh.

Abraham (mci)

Duh Part 2.

CAP:

Salah (cry)

Well here we are... Part one of what I said about Mo was that if he’s fit then he’s cap material and so I’m taking that risk... I have vice on Vardy just in case.

I didn’t feel good capping Kevin or Raz or Vardy this week which I guess puts me largely in the minority but I don’t know Brighton have been really solid at home (5th best NPxGA) and Vardy shoots like 1-2 times per match and I’m just like meh maybe Liverpool just win 3-0 and Mo double returns. I can picture that a lot easier but maybe that’s just me.

Hate captain.

As Pod Partner said you gotta go with your balls and your penis sometimes. Alas.

—

RANDOM SLACKER OF THE WEEK: JEFFD

The words of Random Slacker are not officially endorsed by this website nor any employees of FML FPL LLC.

TRANSFERS:

OUT: Pukki & Salah

IN (for -4 points hit): Jiménez & Mané

Fear-based transfers IN. I’m taking only my second hit of the season in Gameweek 13, which represents massive personal growth for me as an FPL manager. My transfers this week were inspired by a Mourinho quote:

“…during my career, I made mistakes, and I'm not going to make these mistakes, I'm going to make new ones.”

The Pukki to Jiménez move doesn’t need much explaining. Canaries linger in my team because while I was foolishly shuffling KdB out and back in, I should have been dealing with stagnant assets like Pukki. Getting Jim isn’t the most titillating move, but after looking at the options at or below this price, he seems like the most sensible option in both the short- and medium-term.

I decided on the Mo to Mané sideway shuffle very late based on the landscape of my money league with my mates. I’m near the top of the league, and we’re all bad, but I’m the least bad historically. I noticed that I’m the only manager of 12 that still owns Mo, almost everyone has Mané, and I can’t tolerate this risk any longer.

Given health and recent form, I think the probability that Mané outperforms Mo is so much larger than the other way around this week — and over the next few weeks — and I'm prioritizing keeping pace rather than owning a differential. So I’m conceding the 4 points now to correlate my team a little more with the rest that own Mané. If I miss out on a run of Mo hauls, please refer to the José quote above.

GK:

Pope (wat)

His 9 points last gameweek were very unexpected and appreciated. Still, this is a player I’m looking at “downgrading” for a few extra coins before the blanks in GW18.

DEF:

Alexander-Arnold & Robertson (cry)

I can’t say enough about these guys. I look forward to owning them both for the rest of the season. I’m praying for Robbo’s health — because I love him — and my bench is loathsome.

Lundstram (MUN)

Looking forward to his 2-21 points this week. This is not new information, but the positions that Lundstram has been taking up in the past few matches are preposterous for someone classed as a defender in FPL. I’ve been almost forced to start him every week based on my personnel, which has proved advantageous since some other managers with deeper teams ended up benching him and missing out.

MID:

Mané (cry)

New guy gets a haiku:

Senegalese stud;

scores with both feet and his head;

welcome to my team.

De Bruyne (CHE)

I spent a lot of transfers and lost some value getting him out and back in. If he would repay the faith, that would be great. Note that if Kevin is going to score against a previous club that spurned him any time soon, it surely has to be this week.

Mount (mci)

As a Yank, I’ve watched Pulisic a lot, and this not the player I’m used to seeing. I think he’ll regress or get hurt, and then maybe the proverbial pendulum will swing back to Mount. Chelsea have some home bankers coming up, so I’ll reassess this spot frequently in the coming weeks.

Tielemans (bha)

I used my two frees last week to get this guy and Vardy, so I was obviously buzzing when they linked up for that goal. I opted to get him over Maddo and invest funds in my bench down the road, so I’m perversely desiring to see Youri keep pace with or outperform Maddo.

I don’t think it’s unreasonable to imagine him having a license to get farther forward and score in a match like this where Leicester may be bossing possession for long periods.

FWD:

Vardy (bha)

I’m a math/stats guy for work, and I enjoy FPL since eye-test is often so much more illuminating than stuff like xG. That being said, Vardy can’t keep up what he’s doing statistically, but I’m here to embrace and benefit from his unsustainable scoring record for as long as it lasts.

Abraham (mci)

Starting double Chelsea attack away to City does not inspire confidence in my squad, but City defense is a shadow of its former self, and we’ve seen Tammy get behind and punish mistakes, so I have optimism here.

Jiménez (bou)

The third pillar in the VAJ frontline. Do something, you donkey.

CAP:

Vardy (bha)

We may very well see a beleaguered Brighton side given injuries and Dunk’s suspension. We know what Vardy can do with limited chances, so this seems like the sort of match where he can actually get a volume of quality opportunities and maybe even a jammy pen.

[punkscowardschampions]

Buster & Edie

Buster: I need to talk to you Edie: hot Edie: shoot Buster: Are you in a state to hear me or not? Edie: i got eyes n ears mckenna Buster: You know what I mean Edie: am i high, what you asking yeah Buster: Well, are you? Edie: when am i not, if you waitin for me be sober u gon be blueballed forever Buster: I just don't want to be talking to a brick wall Buster: Or repeating myself like it's my job Buster: Can you give me that or should we do this another time? Edie: i ain't indie i stay functioning unless i'm nodding Edie: and we wouldn't be flirting rn if i was so off you go Edie: i'm listening Buster: Alright Buster: Drew got lifted on St Paddy's night carrying fuck knows how much Buster: He could get as much as 14 years but I doubt it Edie: ha Edie: s'funny Buster: Do you want me to hit you up again when we know how long he's getting? Edie: nah i'll just pretend he got 14, fitting Edie: how old indie is yeah Edie: paroled himself into pen, ha Buster: No way that cunt'll get max Buster: He never does Buster: But sure Edie: you ain't need to tell me Edie: 'bout to be 16 right here Buster: I was more speaking my own frustrations, babe Buster: But you know Edie: tell me all about 'em Edie: peak daddy issues right now, i'll see u right init Buster: Shut up Buster: You've got a man for that Edie: you ain't Edie: omg are you coming out to me rn Buster: Obviously yeah Buster: Your sister's my beard, like Buster: Don't be an idiot Buster: Also I ain't got daddy issues yet so why we talking about me? Edie: makes more sense than what u playing as truth Edie: wanna talk about mine some more Edie: cool Buster: I wanna make sure you're okay Buster: So sue me, babe Edie: sweet Edie: makes no odds to me does it Buster: You tell me Buster: I ain't speaking for you Edie: he ain't been about Edie: i ain't about Buster: I know that's bullshit 'cause they saw you Buster: You could've come in, had a drink Buster: You still can Buster: Fight your way through the tourists, like Edie: i dun wanna cover up your homo ways w you boy i'm soz Buster: Fuck off Buster: You love it Buster: What are you doing that's better? Edie: my mans Edie: like you said Buster: I'm so offended right now Buster: But fine Edie: gutted Edie: any more sad news to get me juiced Buster: I don't reckon Buster: You did talk my sister into therapy though so nice one Edie: whey Edie: slainte Buster: Yeah Edie: vulnerability all round Edie: get u some ur so welcome Buster: What is that meant to mean? Edie: u tellin me my daddy going gone so u can pipe me, so sayin Edie: uncovering all her trauma Edie: 🙌 Buster: Bullshit Buster: Don't be like that Edie: like what Buster: Fucked Edie: boring Buster: If that's your threshold Edie: for your boringness Edie: yeah Buster: Fine Buster: I'll go then Buster: See you later Edie: toodles Buster: Yeah yeah Buster: You know where I am if you actually need anything or wanna talk, babe Edie: desperate Edie: what you actually wanna say Edie: babe Buster: 'Course Buster: You're that irresistible, Eds Buster: I've said what I came here to say Buster: You can't blame me for wondering if that boy can string a sentence together, like Buster: Who else you talking to? Edie: fun times Edie: lots of people Buster: Yeah? Buster: Good Edie: 'fact Edie: one of my lads 'bout to go in Edie: 🤞 they get the same pen, visit 'em both ay Buster: Someone's got to Edie: you know indie will Edie: probably ro too Buster: Nah Buster: They're both over it Edie: nah Edie: indie likes her free gear and ro likes her bit of rough Buster: You're out the loop, kid Edie: you're kidding yourself you think anything changed Edie: been here many times, u weren't about Buster: I know they have Buster: I've seen them both, you ain't Edie: oh babe Edie: no smart mckennas left Edie: so sad Buster: Don't patronise me, babe Buster: You wish Edie: don't play dumb Buster: Don't play like you know anything that's going on Buster: I'd say you'll see but we both know you won't Edie: i got bored of it Edie: wait til you on your thousandth rerun of everyone's shit, you will too Buster: Bored ain't the word for what I am Edie: nah Edie: go on then if ur so smart Edie: impress me with that vocab Buster: Fuck that Buster: I don't need to prove anything to you Buster: I'm smart enough to know it's not worth bothering Edie: that riveting is it Edie: well enjoy his downfall whilst it lasts Edie: dun expect me to join in celebrations Buster: I ain't celebrating nor waiting on you Buster: I've got plenty of other shit to do Edie: clearly Edie: clogging up my inbox inviting me for drinks Buster: I'm here for Rio I ain't here for you Buster: She wanted me to tell you so I have Buster: End of Edie: now u have Edie: probs suck ur dick well done u Buster: She doesn't need the incentive Buster: But thanks for caring Edie: disgusting Buster: You brought it up Buster: Don't if you don't wanna hear about it Edie: yeah just ignore it like it ain't happening with the rest Edie: cool Buster: There's not ignoring it or talking about my sex life as the only two options Buster: Again, you wish Buster: None of this is being ignored by any of my fam Edie: it ain't being dealt with either is it Buster: Speak for yourself Buster: I'm dealing with it every day Edie: no one making u do it Buster: Nobody's making you do anything you are either Edie: welllll i ain't fucking my cuz either so i'm good Buster: That don't make you good Buster: Hilarious maybe Edie: soz ill get to work so i can be up to standard Edie: options ain't limited Buster: Tell me something I don't know Buster: I can do anything I want Buster: How about you? Edie: you can Edie: i am Buster: Proud of you, like Edie: should be Edie: mixed messages otherwise Buster: That's not about to worry me Buster: I only came to deliver one message and it's done Edie: 💔 Edie: obvs Buster: Good to know Edie: relay that if you like Edie: get 'em all feeling good Buster: I don't chat shit anymore Buster: Sorry Edie: why u sorry Edie: idc Edie: they won't love it Buster: 'Cause I know you'd love me to pass this whole convo on but I ain't Edie: aw bummer Edie: so sad Edie: hit 'em with the round robin Buster: You always want me to be your errand boy Buster: So transparent Edie: you wanna be around em so much Edie: i don't Edie: both get what we want Buster: I wanna be here, I don't want them in my face Buster: And especially not on your account Edie: sure Edie: so transparent Buster: Funnily enough, your fam are really annoying Buster: You think you're the only one who knows that? Edie: also your fam but go off Edie: makes it weird when u think on it huh Buster: No, I'm talking about your mob Buster: They ain't my immediate Buster: I'm not seeing them all at breakfast like Edie: me either Edie: i'm as related to them as you are Buster: Bullshit Buster: Your saw your brothers the other fucking day Buster: What was that? A coincidence Buster: Come on Edie: Could be Edie: they were out on street alone Edie: i coulda been anyone Buster: They were outside the pub Buster: Lie better if you're gonna try Edie: on st paddys day Edie: do better if you really dont want ur kids missing Buster: If you were my kid I would Edie: hearteyes Edie: ain't that just what i wanna hear Buster: I don't give a fuck Buster: We're having a convo I'm not playing to an audience Buster: Your parents are shit, what do you want me to do? Edie: i dunna ring social Buster: Ring them yourself Buster: You're the one they failed Buster: It aint your brothers or me Edie: oh yh rest of em are golden Buster: Yeah, as good as they can be Buster: Nobody's perfect Edie: ha Edie: now u bullshitting Buster: No I ain't Buster: What's so fucked up about any of them? Go on Edie: long Edie: u wanted this list u should've given me 3 working days Buster: Keep stalling while you make up your bullshit, babe Buster: I'll be here then Edie: what i gotta make up Edie: your whole thing is evidence of the first and worst, like Edie: why i wasting my time telling u when u don't wanna hear Buster: There's nothing wrong with Rio Buster: But feel free to hit me with that list on the rest of them when you're ready Edie: oh god Buster: Is that all you've got? Buster: Good then Edie: all needs telling to u Edie: u dont care bout the rest of them and how fucked up they are 'til they of age Edie: end of Buster: You don't care about any of them so don't lecture me Edie: sure don't Edie: who lecturing you want the list so bad Edie: k bundy Buster: Whatever Edie: 😂 Buster: I'll see you around on your brother's twitter feed, like Edie: cute u care Buster: Yeah I know Buster: I've been told Edie: i bet Edie: ⭐ Buster: Feel free if you need the cash Buster: Low risk Edie: huh Buster: I'm a safe bet, babe Buster: Don't you know? Edie: u make me wanna throw up in my mouth a bit Edie: not rlly my thing but u make it work 4 u Buster: Yeah I do Edie: ick Edie: stop Edie: i just ate Buster: Good to know Buster: At least you're not gonna starve to death Edie: such a drama queen too Edie: how do u actually get laid its impressive Edie: b4 the whole incest vibe Buster: Talk about mixed messages Buster: Stop flirting with me, babe Buster: I liked it better when you were playing hard to get Edie: boiiiiii Edie: u think that flirting u need to watch out Edie: calling u repugnant Buster: Yeah yeah Edie: oh that's who u remind me of Edie: american psycho Edie: what was his name Edie: gets horny over card stock Buster: Good one Buster: You're funny Edie: i know Edie: imma rewatch Buster: Cute Buster: You don't have to miss me you can just come see me Edie: ew Edie: bateman Edie: ha Edie: funny Edie: indie would laugh Buster: I'll tell her Buster: See if she does Edie: aw Edie: domestic bliss Buster: Yeah Edie: gotta give it to yuh Edie: hustlin on the next Edie: been there Edie: clever Buster: What? Edie: got her good to go when u get bored of ri Buster: You're fucked Buster: She's a kid Edie: whatevs Edie: 4 years ain't a big deal Buster: Yeah it fucking is Buster: When she's 14 Buster: Don't fucking say shit like that to me or about me Edie: dry Buster: Sort your head out Buster: Seriously Edie: what Edie: i don't wanna fuck a 14 year old Edie: n i ain't Buster: Neither do I Buster: Fuck you Edie: cool Edie: keep it legal but dubious Edie: that's how u rollin Buster: Shut up Buster: You don't know what you're talking about Edie: sadly do Edie: u really splash it all over socials Buster: I'm not doing anything wrong Buster: Unlike that boy fucking you Edie: what u gonna do call garda Edie: who cares Buster: You have enough of an opinion about my moral code Buster: Sort yours Edie: oooo victim blaming hahaah Edie: have u for that the feminazis Buster: Give a shit Buster: What are you gonna do, tell on me? Edie: they sense that shit from mile way Edie: dun need to Buster: I'm so scared Edie: same Buster: It's been fun Buster: I gotta go Edie: it hasn't Edie: ✌