fair and square imports

Seriously, i’m so sad. 

Why are all these people hating on Portugal’s NT getting in the finals? I get that we got lucky sometimes, but i can asure you we got unlucky a lot too (a lot of penalties that weren’t scored). We won against amazing teams! Croatia, Poland, Whales they all played sooo well, no one is saying otherwise. 

For someone who watched the games i know we won fair and square…

We’re such a small country, with little to no importance, why pick on us? Our country is celebrating! Today i hugged a person i didn’t even know after we scored a goal, i stood up when they sung Whales national anthem. This should be about bringing people together and mutual respect. Please don’t spread hate just because you have prejudices against us. 

No matter what the media says, we are good hard working people just like the rest of you, I don’t think we deserve any of the racist comments against our team or us. 

Storytelling Friday

for @lifeinahole27

“we were having a fun games night w our friends but now everyone’s left your flat apart from me bc we’ve played twenty games of connect 4 and still haven’t managed to find a winner and gdi i will beat you

Emma Swan doesn’t stand to lose. At anything. Call it a residual trauma from her shitty childhood, but she really can’t stand to lose. She needs to win in order to feel good about herself, to feel that she is worthy, to feel that she matters, to feel that she finally is first at something. Emma had spent years of costly therapy to try to overcome this need of winning. And she was doing better, she was.

Until she met him. Killian Jones.

Because, here’s thing (although she doesn’t know it). Killian Jones doesn’t lose. He literally can’t lose. At anything. It’s almost like magic, but ever since he’s been a kid, he’d won at games, raffles, even silly “guess the number” games. He has to try really really hard to lose, and sometimes even with that, it doesn’t work.

Emma Swan hates to lose and Killian Jones literally cannot lose.

So when they met at a bar where she was hanging with Ruby and Mary Margaret and he came in with David (who was daing Mary Margaret) and Viktor, it was really a disaster waiting to happen.

Emma was concentrated in a dart game against Ruby (and she was winning) when the brunette got bored and bailed on her, calling Killian to take her place. Killian took one look at the blonde beauty standing in front of him and he just knew he needed to talk to her. So he tried to turn on the charm but Emma shushed him as she was focusing on her shot. She almost nailed it, the dart coming really close to the center. She was about to win. Killian, not caring one bit about the bloody game, just picked the first dart available and threw it in the target direction, not even looking as he turned around to focus on her and start a conversation.

The dart hit the bullseye. Killian won the game. Emma gave him the most furious look and stomped out of his sight.

They met again a few weeks later, in yet another bar gathering. She was still mad about the dart incident, so she challenged him to a pool game. She’d been playing pool since her group home days, she was fantastic at it.

He won in three turns. What made Emma even more furious is that he wasn’t even trying. She could tell he was more interested in talking to David than in the game. And he still won.

Killian didn’t even had the chance to turn around after pocketing the 8-ball that Emma had already left the bar, fuming.

Then it was poker night. He won. Killian actually tried to give her back the money but she had told him between gritted teeth that he had won it.

Uno. That ended with Emma almost stabbing him with an icepick.

Charades. No matter how stupid and nonsensical David’s gestures were, Killian would guess it. In record time.

Every time, at every game, at every single thing, Killian would win. And Emma would lose it, feeling frustrated and riled up over the most stupid thing which she knew was the most stupid thing, but she couldn’t control it.

And that is how they ended up in this situation: at 2 am in the morning in his place, after everyone bailed out on them hours ago; with Emma determined to beat him at connect four. They were in their 20th game (he thought it was, he lost count after midnight) and unless he pretty much tossed  the game, Killian knew this night would never end.

And it was fun in the beginning, when he first met her, to push her buttons and see how riled up she got. Her skin flushed, her green eyes a shade darker, her lip trembling a little. Until he realized he much rather elicit those reactions by other more enjoyable activities. Ones that at least didn’t end with her closing the door forcefully on his face, leaving him standing there, looking at the empty space with longing eyes.

So Killian decided to toss the game and it was even worse because Emma figured it out and told him that she did not need his charity, that she was going to win fair and square.

“Why is it so important that you win, Swan?” He finally asked her.

“You wouldn’t understand…” She trailed off, the tiredness of the evening finally getting into her, and the embarrassment of her childish behavior making her avert her eyes.

“Try me.” He challenged her.

“I just need to do it, you know? To win so it’s clear that I am good at something, that I am valuable, worth it… You don’t even want to win and yet it comes so easily to you. You excel at winning.”

“It can be a curse sometimes…” Killian sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Winning? A curse?” She looked at him confused, “How?”

“Well, for starters, if I hadn’t won at every bloody thing ever since we met, and trust me love, I’ve tried to lose, many times; perhaps you would have stayed long enough in the same room for me to finally ask you out.” He confessed.

Her eyes widened in surprise as he smiled sheepishly at her, “You want to ask me out? Since when?”

“Pretty much since we met, Emma.” He said, “but you always end up so mad at me for winning at whatever bloody game we are playing that I never had the chance.”

She looked at him for a long moment, before her hand reached for one of the chips. “Let’s finish the game, Killian.” She said.

“Swan…” He protested but she gave him a confident look.

Your turn.”

He sighed and continued the game. He won in two more turns. Emma looked at the game and then stood up, “Good game and now it’s time for me to go.” She said as she grabbed her things.

Killian smiled sadly as he stood up and walked her to the door.

“Emma…” He started but she cut him off by turning around, her hand softly caressing his cheek and she brushed her lips to his slightly.

“I’m free tomorrow night. No games.” She said smiling

“No games.” He whispered as he watched her leave.

It turned out, there were other things Killian Jones excelled at.


Making her come.

Loving her.

Making her the happiest woman on earth.

Making her feel that she was the first at something.

(Needless to say, they never played a game against each other again in their lives.)

Storytelling Friday


Rika Furude had braved many hardships.

She had been orphaned at an early age, her father murdered in his own shrine and her mother vanishing, leaving only a note as proof she had ever been. She had watched her best friend suffer day in and day out, helped her to overcome the loss of her beloved brother, coaxed her back from a vegetative state – and that was before she had spent centuries watching the people she loved most gut one another over and over, leaving a trail of blood and broken bodies burned into her mind. With the help of her friends she had torn down fate itself and thrown it back in the face of the twisted trash who forged it. And that had only been the beginning. She had quit drinking, learned to tolerate Hanyuu, conquered the nightmares that had plagued her night after night, digging into her brain and tearing her apart – as far as anybody else knew, she no longer had them. There was nothing in the world Rika Furude couldn’t do.

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