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lesbianwithchainsaws · 11 months

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Wait i actually wanna hear your thoughts/opinions on the Saw movies!

Anon, this is a risky thing to ask me because all that will happen is you will get a 10k word essay from me as a result. But okay. I am going to put this under "Read more" because I truly mean it when I say this ended up very long.

So first of all, I fucking love the Saw franchise. Like objectively it's not that good, especially the sequels, but I love these movies and the characters (mostly). I'm really excited for Saw X, even though I know it's not going to be good. The 10th movie in a horror franchise is never actually good, but at this point I feel like Saw could give me anything and I'll still watch it.

Despite some of the sequels being not so great, I genuinely think the first movie is a masterpiece. I'm a sucker for low budget movies because I love seeing what people can do with little money and I think Saw does a great job at showing the world, the traps and everything. It's definitely not perfect and you can tell it's got a small budget at times, but it just still works so well. Also let's be honest, Saw would not work if it had a huge budget.

Anyway, the story of the first one is still so intriguing and well made, even when you're someone like me who's seen it several times. And the reverse bear trap scene still hits.

I love Adam and Lawrence as characters. They're so intriguing to watch and Adam truly has the funniest lines ever. "This is the most fun I've had without lubricant." sir, you are in a death trap lmao!

Even the other characters are interesting to watch imo.

Oh, and I can't not mention the early drafts of the Saw script. There are some lines that make me insane every time I think about them. I'm sure you can find some of them on tumblr. My favourite is probably "so many days you have wanted to die. Now your goal is to make it out of here alive. Either way, you win, yes?". In the early drafts Adam was quite suicidal and that line is in the Jigsaw tape to Adam. Honestly there's so much about Adam in the early drafts that makes me lose it a little. There's even some dialogue of Lawrence asking Adam about him being suicidal. It just... aaaaaaaaaaaaaa yknow?

Saw really has such well written characters. Even if the story isn't always the greatest, the characters make up for it a lot.

Especially Amanda. Like her being addicted to heroin and after the rbt, she and John thinks she's good now. He's healed her. But he hasn't. She now needs John's approval. And she still hurts herself and starts killing others. Because John didn't do shit. He turned her into this monster and he doesn't really care. He supposedly cares that she's killing people, but only because he lives with some weird god complex where he thinks he's not killing people.

But genuinely if you really think about it, she's just a tragic character and that's the point. I love her character, even though she'll never get anything good to happen to her.

Also on a less serious note, Amanda Young is a lesbian. No, I'm not projecting. (I am)

Now onto Jigsaw himself. Fucking John Kramer. I would beat him up if he was real. I don't care that he's an old man dying of cancer, I would punch him. Every time he talks about how he doesn't kill people and that killing is distasteful, I feel like fighting. Dude straight up kidnaps people and puts them in death traps that are nearly impossible to escape. But sure. Yeah, they totally had a choice in the matter. Also like what choice did the people in Saw III have? They didn't have a choice, they had to have Jeff choose for them. And the people in Saw VI? Like I love Saw VI and I love that it's about health care in the US, but like those people didn't get to choose shit. He killed them. And yes, he's dead by that point, but it's his design and his trap. John Kramer is stupid and I would fist fight him at any point in time.

Sorry, I guess I should move on to the second movie.

I think the second movie is pretty good. I prefer the first one and kinda wish the 2nd one had some better character stuff, but the traps in the second one are so good? The fucking needle pit makes me cringe every time. Also fun fact, they used over 100k syringes for that trap. People had to remove the needles from each one to ensure that it's safe and I remember seeing this behind the scenes video where even the 100k syringes weren't enough. They had to put padding at the bottom to make it seem like the pit was a lot more full.

I also do like the idea of all the victims being connected because they were framed by Detective Matthews. And the twist is pretty cool too even if "your son is in a safe place" is silly. Did it have to be a pun? It's so funny.

Also Amanda waking up in the trap and immediately checking if there's a trap on her head? Makes me insane actually.

Now onto the third one, I genuinely think I'd like it more if Jeff didn't suck. He's a frustrating character to watch most of the time. However, I do think that The Rack (the trap Timothy was in that slowly twisted his limbs) is the worst trap ever, but like I mean that in a good way. It's probably the only trap I genuinely have to look away from. I can't handle watching it fully.

I think a lot of the other traps in Saw III are pretty cool too, again, I just wish Jeff was less frustrating of a character.

But Amanda and Lynn? First of all, there was something gay as hell going on there. If they both didn't literally die in that movie, I would say they hate-fucked afterwards. Also Amanda is so hot in this movie. Uh, I mean, what? Who said that? I'm not simping for the murderer.

Okay. I definitely prefer the Amanda, Lynn and John side of the plot. I think it's a lot more interesting to watch, especially with Amanda struggling because of the letter and not knowing whether to kill Lynn or not. I also like that we find out more about Amanda and her mental state after everything John has done.

I will forever be upset that Saw III has so many deleted scenes. Especially the one where Adam and Amanda interact. I think it's such a good scene, I wish they kept it in. (If you haven't seen it, the deleted scenes are all on youtube). I think it's so cool to see how Amanda is like hesitant almost for a bit to do anything to Adam because he's being nice to her. And like she's going to his apartment to kidnap him. She has zero good intentions, but she looks to almost second guess the decision as he's leaving.

Fourth movie, let's go! The fourth one is in my opinion very funny. Mainly because of the ridiculous scene transitions. I saw this behind the scenes video where Darren Lynn Bousman (the director) was so excited about the scene transitions, but me and my friends have watched this movie and laughed at the transitions. They're so ridiculous. Especially the one where the lady is goes through the mirror and onto the police office.

Anyway, the main overall trap is kinda not that great in this one imo. And the whole reason that the character is in the trap because he spends too much time trying to catch Jigsaw is ridiculous. However, I do like the fact that a rapist gets put in a Saw trap. 10/10

Oddly enough, I don't remember the overall plot that well of this movie. I don't even think its a bad Saw movie, I think it's pretty good. It's just kind of forgettable overall I guess?

Saw V... Saw V is a movie that I think could've been really good, but ended up kinda crap.

First of all, the concept of the trap is probably one of my favourites. I love the idea that all of them could've survived, if they just worked together and weren't selfish. I think it's a great idea. However, I don't think it was executed that well. Mainly, I think the backstory of the characters should've been clearer. And just the characters in general could've been better. Also sorry, but I thought the reveal that they could've worked together was so obvious. I think with some more improvements in the script, this could've been great though.

The fucking cop plot however? Jesus christ, I hated it. Mark Hoffman walks around like he's got "I'm Jigsaw" taped on his back, yet somehow not a single person is suspicious of him and instead think Strahm is guilty. Like please, Hoffman is not that good at hiding.

Also whoever did the casting for Saw IV and V is my enemy. I genuinely had a hard time telling Strahm and Hoffman apart at first. They both look like generic white guys and I'm supposed to distinguish from these two? It doesn't help that they're fucking dressed a similar way. I kinda wish they would've altered their appearance a little more at the very least.

The end is cool though.

Saw VI is one of my favourites though. It's a bit dumb, but I love it. I love that they show the stupidity that is American healthcare in it. I enjoy the traps a lot. Especially the shotgun carousel. Hello? Whoever thought of that is kind of genius. It's a really cool idea imo. I also think the characters are better written in this too. I will never not think that Jigsaw putting the janitor in a trap for smoking is kinda dumb, but I kinda understand why he's there.

The twist isn't great, but it's a great movie overall.

Fun fact: Saw VII aka Saw: The Final Chapter was originally supposed to be two separate movies. But Saw VI didn't do as well as studios wanted, despite the fact that it was a lot better critically received. So the studio made the filmmakers cut the idea down to one movie. I really wish we could've gotten two though, that would've worked way better. Apparently one was supposed to focus more on Lawrence, which would've been really good.

The Saw VII we did get is not a very good movie. Character-wise it's bad. The traps are okay. But also this movie is weirdly ugly? Like whatever they did with the colour grading didn't work at all. I think it looks hideous. The wrong colours stand out and it doesn't feel as much of a Saw movie anymore.

Saw VII needed more Lawrence. Also the way that the guys wife did nothing wrong and didn't deserve to slowly burn alive. Oh, also, I think the concept of a therapy group for Jigsaw survivors is so unintentionally funny. It's like an absurd comedy,how are there enough people for there to be Jigsaw survivors therapy group lmao

Just realised I haven't even mentioned Jill and Hoffman's whole plot, but tbh idk if there's much to say about it. I think it makes sense for John to want to test Hoffman when he's become too serial killer-y. And it's cool to have the rbt return. Especially in VII where we actually see someone get killed by it. I know Saw VII is the most hated, but imo it's not the worst Saw movie.

Which greatly leads us to Jigsaw. The worst Saw movie! Fuck Jigsaw (2017). Me and my homies all hate Jigsaw (2017).

First of all, Jigsaw looks even less like a Saw movie than VII. Like why did they try to go for this modern look to it? Why was that necessary? I think part of what makes the Saw movies so good is the gross 2000s look. It doesn't work as well without it.

The characters are alright. Although the scene where that one guy is right by the thing that would disable the trap completely and he doesn't fucking do it is kinda frustrating. Like at that point, do it just in case. I don't remember the exact details of the trap, but I'm talking about the bike one. I think he had to press a bike break? And the spinning trap that would kill him would be deactived completely.

But what really makes me hate this movie is the ending. First of all, John taking a bullet, showing it to the other two and going "this is the key to your survival" and then us finding out that he put keys to the chains inside the bullet? Yeah, what the fuck? This is so much worse than "He's in a safe place". I hate that part so much.

Of course, the twist that this was all in the past is even dumber. If this happened before Adam and Lawrence, then why does Billy have glowing eyes? Why does John suddenly have high-tech TV's. Why does the Jigsaw trap look like a fucking corporate office. Why is everything the way that it is?

But the truly worst part is Logan. My sworn enemy. I would gladly punch John, but that feeling is tripled when it comes to Logan. He's like a more annoying Hoffman. And Logan's been here from the start? Fuck off, no he hasn't. And "John didn't think I should die because of an honest mistake." I'm killing Logan. I'm aiming a gun at the writers of this movie. I'm fist fighting everything in sight. How do you watch SEVEN whole movies about the kind of person John is and think he would ever save someone because of a mistake? Logan's annoying ass should be dead. And listen, I know there's a theory out there where someone is saying that maybe John saved Logan because he put too many drugs in his system, which caused Logan not to wake up in time to give him a decent chance, and what John really meant was that he (John) made a mistake. But no, that's still stupid. It's John Kramer! He'd just blame Logan for the fact that the drugs didn't let him wake up in time. John wouldn't save him.

Also how does being spared by a serial killer equal deciding to work for said serial killer? What was the reason? Why did Logan do all that and decide that he wants to help John? It makes no sense! This movie makes no sense. The traps aren't even good enough or entertaining enough to look past all the stupidity. It makes me upset that they fucked up a Saw movie this badly. Saw is already convoluted enough. They genuinely could've just given a generic Saw trap plot and a generic cop plot, and it would've been 10x times better. Anything would've been 10x better than Jigsaw (2017). I truly hate that movie, I'm sorry.

Okay, finally there's Spiral: From the Book of Saw. Now I see quite a bit of dislike for Spiral out there on the internet, but honestly? I actually think it's alright. I'd put Spiral above Jigsaw and Saw VII. Maybe even above V.

This movie also abandons the gross 2000s aesthetic, but I think it works better here because it's a completely different setting and it's not Jigsaw! It's not John or Amanda or Hoffman or Logan. It's a copycat killer and in turn, I think that makes me more okay with the change in style.

Also I think the traps in Spiral are awesome. I especially like that, since this is a copycat killer, the whole "make a choice" thing kinda goes out the window too. It's just a bunch of brutal traps and I don't mind that at all.

The tongue trap is pretty unforgettable, but for some reason the finger one makes me cringe the most. Something about the idea of your fingers being pulled apart just gives me that slight uncomfortable feeling. Also the trap with the wax was pretty interesting too and quite brutal.

The twist in this movie, however, is so predictable imo. Like the second they didn't show the trap William was supposedly in, I knew he was alive and guilty. But I do love a Jigsaw that says ACAB.

I do also think Spiral has a lot of flaws. Like it's overall not a very good movie, but I enjoyed it. My opinion might be slightly influenced by the fact that this was the first Saw movie I saw in cinemas and it was a fun watch, but still. The movie's alright. I wouldn't mind a sequel to Spiral.

And as mentioned previously, I'm really excited for Saw X. Especially since they're bringing back my girl Amanda. I know it won't be as good as the first one, but I at least hope that Saw X will be better than Jigsaw.

#im sorry for how long this ended up being but seriously don't ask me about Saw unless you're okay with the biggest wall of text #I like this franchise too much #saw #horror

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makeste · 3 years

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BnHA Chapter 317: My Boy Was Just Like Me

Previously on BnHA: AFO randomly blew up Lady Nagant as a good reminder of why you should never make a deal with this fucking guy, smdh. Hawks was all “well if it isn’t my two best friends, Deku and Lady Nagant, both of whom I respect and love tremendously.” Everyone was all “??” and Horikoshi was all “shh... just pretend” because it was too embarrassing for him to admit that he forgot to write a couple of set-up flashbacks I guess. Anyway so Hawks got Lady to tell them where AFO was hiding out, and everyone said goodbye to her and Overhaul, who never did get to see his boss (sorry buddy, I’ll send you a vial of my tears in the mail), and headed out to a house in the woods. AFO was all “hello Deku :) :) it sure is fun making you suffer :) :) :) anyways this is a trap”, and blew up the house. Yeah, we all here are getting reaaaaaaaal tired of your shit, AFO.

Today on BnHA: The Hawksquad and Edgeplatoon meet in a warehouse and are all “what should we do about the fact that everything sucks?” Mt. Lady is all “here’s a thought, what if we tried battling AFO with more than six people.” Hawks and Endeavor are all “great initiative, but just a friendly reminder that our friends also suck and would probably betray Deku which would suck further still.” Shouto is all “ANSWER THE PHONE DAD” and Endeavor is all “[IRONICALLY DOESN’T ANSWER THE PHONE].” Meanwhile over in Sadtown, capital of Sadland Prefecture, Japan, Deku is all “All Might, as you can clearly see I am completely fine and good, never been better in fact, definitely not caught up in the throes of an epic mental breakdown which is shutting me down emotionally, anyway so on that note I would like to leave you now goodbye!!” All Might is all “[can’t actually form any words because he’s too distraught].” Fandom is all “o(╥﹏╥)o.” Horikoshi is all “(*＾-’) 乃 [pew pew finger guns and barrel rolls into the darkness].”

sweet jesus lord

this literally doesn’t even look like Deku anymore?? this looks like Dark!Deku who shows up to fight you in that one room in the Water Temple. he looks like he’s about to crawl out of my television set and murder me with his psychic powers good lord

holy shit lmao Horikoshi is really just shrugging his shoulders and resolving last week’s cliffhanger with a single line of dialogue

fire is no one’s weakness. idk what other options you’ve got, AFO, but you’re gonna have to go back to the drawing board. maybe try bees or something. I’m just saying. we’re all expecting fire at this point but nobody is expecting bees

anyway so now they’re all sitting in some warehouse somewhere chatting about it I guess. shoutout to Horikoshi for finally giving my man Edgeshot some more dialogue at long last

well, Edgeshot, to answer your question, she exploded. so naturally she’s fine

nah just kidding, Hawks says she won’t be able to help them out much because she’s recovering from being exploded. this is the part where we all ignore the fact that Hawks got set on fire for like a full ten minutes back during the War arc and was only in the hospital for a day. anyways enjoy your temporary plot hiatus Nagant

man there’s a lot of dialogue here and I’m trying to figure out where to insert commentary but it’s kinda difficult lol. basically, Edge and the others are saying that they should gather up the other remaining heroes and get them all caught up on the whole OFA situation. which, hmmmm

like on the one hand, these guys definitely aren’t going to cut it on their own, so it’s a reasonable suggestion on the face of it. but on the other hand, do we really want to entrust the OFA secret to a bunch of other people, most of whom shat the bed during the War arc to be quite frank? is it really worth the additional risk? especially given that any one of them might go spilling the beans to the public -- or worse, betray them to AFO??

also just a quick side note here, Mt. Lady’s character development never ceases to delight me. she’s become so committed to her responsibility as a hero these days, and it fucking suits her. I genuinely consider to be one of the elites now. I mean it doesn’t hurt that all the other elites are fucking dead lol but still

wait what? Death Arms retired??

Death Arms as in the guy who was too afraid of a little fire to try and save a terrified 14-year-old kid who was slowly suffocating right before his eyes?? that Death Arms???? color me surprised. shocked, I tell you

...okay but holy fuck

Death Arms. bro. my expectations for you were low but holy shit. like I’m sorry, but I don’t even have it in me to try and pretend like I feel the slightest bit of sympathy for him or Old Man Samurai or any of those other guys today. thanks for a whole lot of nothing my dude. good riddance

(ETA: so I’m rereading this the next day and realize this comes off as kind of harsh, so let me just try to clarify. it’s not the fact that he’s quitting that bothers me, to be honest. it’s the fact that he’s quitting specifically because he feels like the public is being mean to him. that’s it.

seriously. it would be one thing if he was quitting because he was scared, because now that is human. nobody wants to die, and I doubt any amount of training can ever fully prepare someone to go up against that fear. but the thing is, he never once mentions that, or talks about the danger aspect. instead, I got the distinct vibe from this speech that Death Arms is one of those people who only became a hero because of the limelight. and I just don’t have any patience for that. if all you care about are likes and subscribes then go become a fucking youtuber or some shit. nothing wrong with that! but you didn’t; you signed up to be a hero and protect these people. they gave you their respect and admiration because they trusted you to protect them. and now that they’re no longer in the mood to worship and applaud your every move on account of them being scared shitless because they’re living in the literal end times, you decide to dip. so like okay, fine then. don’t let the door hit you on the way out. anyways lol sorry for the rant.)

anyway so yeah. perfect example of why I don’t exactly have a ton of faith in most of the remaining heroes out there lol. also let me just once again give a shoutout to my best girl Mt. Lady whom I suddenly find myself appreciating all the more

“please calm down makeste. drink some water and enjoy this fresh new jeans pun” listen Horikoshi don’t tell me what to do dammit

fine. it is a nice pun, I guess

-- damn so now Endeavor’s saying that the media is already being fed info by the retired heroes. so for some of these guys it wasn’t enough for them to abandon all the people they swore to protect and to leave their fellow heroes out in the cold; they decided they might as well actively make things worse for them while they were at it, huh. like I get wanting to spill all the dirty secrets from your old job that you just quit, but this isn’t Jeff Bezos you’re screwing over, this is a sixteen-year-old kid

-- like, yes!! this, right here!!

exactly!! let’s not forget that there are already two prior instances of this happening. Endeavor arguably deserved it, but Katsuki not so much

huh. Endeavor seems to have a more optimistic outlook regarding this than I do lol

I mean, this is the same public that didn’t hesitant to blame a kidnapped child for his own kidnapping, and then later on for being the downfall of the Symbol of Peace. but okay then

anyway so blah blah blah, more talk about how they need to use Deku as bait, which basically puts them back at square one, and then they’re all just trailing off into silence and sitting around in the dark lmao this is getting very depressing

SKDJFLSDKJ:LFKJ

SHOUTO?????

NOOOOOOOO ARE YOU KIDDING ME

OH HOW THE TURNTABLES OMG. THE GHOSTER HAS BECOME THE GHOSTEE. Endeavor you petty son of a bitch. and what a brutal cut to that flashback too. “let’s stop Touya together” nah Shouto I’ve got a better idea why don’t I abandon you in U.A. and sally off with Hawks and Jeanist to found the “let’s pretend like we’re doing something to help Deku” club, which basically consists of us sitting around making terrible decisions all day long

Shouto, honey. you deserve better my little Coca Cola can. .........but if you really do have something important you need to tell your dad you could just text it to him. all the love and support, hugs and kisses, you’re doing amazing sweetie. but if you need to pass on any vital information you can just write it down and hit send honey that’s all I’m saying love

now he’s getting another call?? -- or, no, Hawks is getting a call from All Might

ARE YOU FOR REAL HAWKS OMFG

so while you all were sitting around talking about how useless you are, the kid you’re supposed to be protecting was battling another hired gun. I see. please pardon me for one second, I have a phone call to make. the phone call is to RockLockRock and Manual. the reason for the call is to apologize for calling them the worst bodyguards ever back during the War arc. the reason for the apology is because it turns out I WAS SEVERELY MISTAKEN OMFG

JESUS CHRIST DEKU DID YOU JUST KILL THIS MAN LMAO

shoutout to Horikoshi for offscreening this fight. we get it, lol. Deku strong and scary, villains ineffectual and feeble, and AFO... [checks notes] yep, still a dick. the angst arc continues

-- the angst arc continues, SIR

jesus christ I may have to rethink all of my opinions about Deku being framed for murder in movie 3 lmao. never mind. he did it, your honor

holy fucking shit Deku. “he might blow up, so please be careful” fdlskjflk jlskdjflk lwkejflk anyway so I’ve decided the explosion running gag can stay, actually

DEKU WAIT YOU FORGOT YOUR LUNCH!!

lol why do I get the feeling some serious shit is about to go down. ALL MIGHT NEVER MIND BACK OFF I THINK HE NEEDS HIS SPACE

OH MY FUCK I GASPED OUT LOUD

NO NO NO. I KNEW THIS WAS COMING GODDAMMIT BUT NO. NEVER MIND, I CHANGED MY MIND ABOUT IT, I’M NOT READY TO CRY TODAY

shit. shit shit shit shit and OF COURSE all I can fucking think about is that stupid fucking prophecy and gahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Deku please. please please please if you really are going to leave All Might here, please be so very careful in choosing your farewell words to him now because have this sudden horrible fear that this might be the last time you ever see him alive and oh god. oh god oh god

DEKU NO, YOU’RE REALLY NOT!?!?

I HAVE NEVER SEEN ANYONE LESS FINE IN MY LIFE, ACTUALLY????

holy shit. and the fucking callback to the prophecy now. just in case we forgot. WHICH FYI, WE DIDN’T. but that’s basically confirming that this is all still very much on the table and HORIKOSHI NEVER FORGETS oh my god someone please hold me

and the fact that Deku’s flashing back to it now too, though?? because he never forgot either, because of course he didn’t, and now all this stuff is happening, and AFO’s words are getting to him, and this is literally his worst fear come to life and so of course he’s distancing himself from everyone, and now it’s finally come to even this. even the person he admires most

-- OKAY NO, FUCKING COME ON ALREADY I CAN’T TAKE THIS

I GET IT OH MY GOD, I ALREADY UNDERSTAND THE EMOTIONAL IMPACT OF THIS MOMENT WITHOUT ALL OF THE DEVASTATING FLASHBACKS THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!! YOU ACTUALLY DO WANT ME TO CRY, HUH, IS THAT IT. THIS MAN THAT HE THINKS OF AS A FATHER, THIS MAN WHO HAS BEEN EVERYTHING TO HIM SINCE HE WAS A VERY YOUNG CHILD. EVERYTHING THEY’VE BEEN THROUGH, JUXTAPOSED AGAINST EVERYTHING DEKU IS UP AGAINST, EVERYTHING THAT’S AT RISK. LET’S JUST PUT IT ALL SIDE BY SIDE. LET’S JUST PILE ON ALL OF THE FEELS

(ETA: just a quick note that even though some of the posts I’ve read have described these as All Might’s flashbacks, I’m pretty sure they are Deku’s. most of these are scenes that only he was there for, so yeah. even though All Might is the one thinking the thoughts on the next page, the flashbacks are what’s running through Deku’s mind right now, and so we’re getting that emotion from both of them, which makes it extra devastating lol.)

wait, what???

WHAT??? do you really think that’s why he’s been so determined to protect you this entire time?? simply because you’re his successor?

-- oh no wait lol I think I got that mixed up, this is All Might saying that Deku feels the need to protect him. well that makes more sense lol

oh my god I cannot

his last words. his last words to him. and we can’t even see if he is smiling, like All Might always encouraged him to do. but what are the odds he can’t actually bring himself to do it. what are the odds he’s actually crying. oh god this scene is going to rip my heart out and STOMP on it in the anime isn’t it. Deku’s VA is going to full on murder me with emotion. not that there’ll be much of me left to murder after the thorough job that Horikoshi has already done here

YOU’RE CRYING. DEKU IS LEAVING ALL MIGHT AND IGNORING HIS OUTSTRETCHED HAND AND YOU’RE CRYING. AND BY “YOU” I MEAN “ME”, FUCK

nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope nope no words just feels just a big ol’ pile of feels. I do not have the strength. future me... [broadly gestures] good luck with all that

(ETA: LOL, WELL THEN.

what breaks my heart here is All Might. All Might, and everything he’s been through, and history repeating itself, and forcing him to live this moment from both sides because he wasn’t strong enough to fix things.

Toshinori had only just turned eighteen when Nana died. like, I feel like we don’t mention this enough. the All Might we know is a sixty-something-year-old man, and so everyone always talks about him like he’s basically been an adult forever. but he was a child when he met Nana. and he was still just a child when she died. barely a year older than Deku is now. younger than Mirio was when we first met him.

and we don’t talk about that. we don’t talk about how devastating that was for him. and we don’t talk about how the reason he grew up to become so reserved and withdrawn -- for all that he always tried so hard to outwardly project the image of a bold, confident, smiling hero -- was specifically because of what AFO did to him. because AFO targeted him in the exact way that he is now targeting Deku. because that’s what he does. he goes after every new user of OFA, and he finds out what’s most important to them, and then he destroys it. and for Toshinori, that was Nana. if you’ve read All Might Rising, you know that AFO basically killed her in front of him (and only killed her, while letting Toshinori and Gran get away). Toshinori (while crying) later says she was like a mother to him. and interestingly enough, during this same conversation, Gran tells Toshinori that he can see “that madness in [his] eyes” when Toshi talks about becoming strong enough to defeat AFO. madness in his eyes. sound familiar??

what’s happening to Deku now is the exact same thing that happened to Toshinori when he was a boy. AFO tried every bit as hard to break him as he’s trying with Deku now. “the path you’ve chosen is a thorny one. every battle grinds away at your soul with no end in sight.” we don’t talk about how Toshinori experienced this same thing for forty fucking years. and all the while isolating himself, exactly like Deku is doing now. pushing people away, exactly like Deku. because he never had anyone who was able to reach out and pull him back. and those words that he now finds himself frozen and unable to speak -- “don’t push yourself”; “you can rest” -- are the same words that no one ever said to him until decades later, when it was already far too late to make any difference.

everything that Deku is experiencing now is what Toshinori also went through. and it’s only now, as he watches it happen to his student, the boy he loves like a son, that he’s finally starting to realize the full extent of how wrong it was. you shouldn’t have to fight alone. you shouldn’t have to bear that kind of enormous burden alone. you shouldn’t have to push yourself, and you can rest. you can rest.

but it’s too late. just as he’s finally coming to understand it all, it’s all too fucking late. and he can’t say the words, he doesn’t know how to say the words, and then just like that, Deku is gone.

and he’s alone. again.)

I can’t. this can’t be their goodbye. I’m not ready. for this to be how they finally part, and then they never see each other again except in OFA. how is that fair. how is that fair. how is that fair

fuck me. lol. how many pages are left in this thing. let’s just wrap this up lol. so now of all the times for this fucking guy to finally show up

I can’t believe Stain has been here literally this entire time hiding behind this random wall and cutting onions. that was you who was cutting the onions, right. no need to answer that we’ll just say it was

HORIKOSHI JUST END THE CHAPTER PLEASE I’M OUT OF SPOONS. YOU HURT ME SO GOOD AND I LOVE YOU FOR IT BUT YOU NEED TO LET ME GO NOW SO I CAN BEGIN THE PROCESS OF TRYING TO PUT MY LIFE BACK IN ORDER HERE. SO WHERE ARE WE CUTTING TO NOW WHAT IS HAPPENING

Stain did you also let AFO give you a new quirk. what’s with you guys. do you like blowing up

oh nvm lol because they were talking about THIS GUY ohhhhhh my fucking god

THAT’S BECAUSE HE’S SAD, LINDA!! jesus

omfg. and so yes, good, the chapter is ending here now on page 15. for once I am FULLY on board with that lmao

anyway so tune in next week for more adventures of Werewolf Deku!! that is, assuming we don’t finally cut back to U.A. at long last, which is actually a strong possibility considering that this chapter will likely mark the end of volume 31. it sure wouldn’t kill Horikoshi to start giving us some hope after everything he’s just put us through lol. KACCHAN COME GET YA BOY

#bnha 317 #all might #midoriya izuku #and endeavor and hawks and mt. lady and all the rest of them I guess #literally forgot all about them by the end lol #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #this wound up so long lmao I'm so sorry

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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

Text

ILLICITUS: CHAPTER 4

Prompt: Y/N is a respectful narcotics agent, she worked hard to have her work recognized in a prominently male work field. She‘s assigned to the most important case of her whole career, investigate and apprehend the biggest drug dealer of U.S.A, the only thing she didn’t count on, was for the bastard to be so damn charming.

Word count: Long-ish

Pairing: Mob!Roman Reigns x Reader

Warnings: +18, dirty talk, blackmail, cursing, conspiracy.

Tagging: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @nicolewoo , @bayley-no-friends , @lilred91 , @auawdo , @lustyromantic

Notes: Where is this going to?...To catch up with the previous chapters just hit my Masterlist! Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) You can check out my other stories on my Masterlist and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

I walk from Matt’s office to my desk in utter shock.

*What the hell is going on?* Is all I can think about. What seemed to be the opportunity of a life time (career wise) is becoming a true nightmare. One I couldn’t wait to wake up.

“Hey, kid! My office, NOW!” Jeffrey screamed

*Oh God, that’s all I needed right now*

“Yes, Jeffrey?” I reluctantly asked

He urgently closed and locked his office’s door

“Why did you locked the door?” I ask suspicious

He ignored me and motions for me to sit down. He was so nervous that it would be irrelevant to try to do anything but obey him.

“Happy?” I said bitterly

“Did you knew I was being tracked?” He whispered

“What do you mean?”

“Someone wiretapped my house!”

“Wait, wait. What? Are you serious Jeffrey?”

“Do I look like I’m joking to you, kid?” He angrily whispered

“Why would someone wiretap you?”

“How the fuck would I know? The only thing I know is that it came from the Bureau”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we are the only ones who use that type of technology. You can’t find that shit on the streets! Which makes me think why the fuck is somebody from this building minding my business?”He whispered screamed again

“Ok, first of all, you need to calm the fuck down! You’re little temper is not helping me to think at all. And you’re practically demonstrating to the person who did that, that you know about the wire. So take a deep breath, old man” I whispered and in an attempt to calm himself down, Jeffrey lit up a cigarette.

“Alright, where did you found the wiretap?”

“On the cable modem. We leave it at the leaving room”

“Ok, have you had any problems with your internet signal?”

“No. Why?”

“Sometimes in order to place a wire inside the house, they cause an external problem in the signal so you’ll call the cable company and someone from investigation will get inside the house to put the wire, pretending to be someone from the cable company” I explained and he gave me a puzzled look

“What?” I ask

“How do you-“

“They did that in New York to catch the Mob bosses. What kind of cop are you Jeffrey that doesn’t know about the biggest take down of the five biggest mob families of New York?” I tease

“I’m getting old, that’s my excuse” He laughs

“So if nobody came to fix anything, they must have came in normally then....has anyone from the Bureau came to your house recently?”

“Oh fuck. Everybody, kid”

“Everybody?”

“Yeah, two weeks ago, remember?”

“Shit, your birthday party” I dropped my head in defeat

“We have at least 30 suspects” He mumble

Something tells me whoever is doing this is trying to put me against Jeffrey so I decided to come clean with him

“Jeff, someone requested for a tracker on Roman Reigns”

“Please tell me you’re shitting me” He murmured “Who signed?”

“Apparently me”

“WHAT?” He screamed

“Shhhhh, someone will hear you!”

“What do you mean with ‘apparently you’?”

“My DEA ID number was in the requested by space”

“And how could someone get that?” He asked

“According to Matt, anyone who’s smart enough. He said is not that difficult, you just need to know where to look” I sighed

“Do you know when it was installed?”

“Yesterday, as I was there. Whoever did it wanted to make sure the timing matched perfectly....My biggest fear is for him to find out before I can remov-“ I was cut off by my phone ringing with an unfamiliar number.

“Y/L/N” Was my greeting

“Good morning, agent Y/L/N.”

*Oh fuck no!* I thought

“Good morning Mr. Reigns, how can I help you?”

“Well, I would like for you to join me for lunch, I have a subject I would like to discuss with you”

“I’m afraid I can’t, sir. I have a lot of work and-“

“Oh I’m certain your work can wait agent Y/L/N. Since you have some explaining to do”

“I beg your pardon?” I was already preparing myself for what I knew it would be inevitable

Roman laughs amused “Y/N. Did you really thought you could put a tracker on me and I wouldn’t find out? C’mon baby, I thought you were smarter than that!”

“Mr. Reigns, it’s not what you think-“

“I’m not gonna discuss this through a phone call. Be here at noon!” His voice colder than a bucket of ice

He hung up, before I could even protest it.

“What is it?” Jeffrey asked

“He found out and wants me to explain it” I faintly whispered

“Fucking great!” He grunts “Are you gonna go? Do you want me to go with you?”

“I have to go, I got no choice. And no, if I show up there with you is just gonna make things worst”

He nods “What are you going to do, kid?”

“Pray Jeff...pray like a fucking nun!”

......................................................................

“There she is! The little sneaky spy” Roman smirked at me “Please, sit” He motions to his office chair. The same one I sat the first time I was there.

“So, are you going to explain to me about this little thing?” He dropped the tracker on my lap

“Mr. Reigns, I know how this looks to you but I can guarantee, I didn’t requested this”

“You didn’t? Then how come is your internal identification number upon the request by line?”

*Of course he knows about that too*

“That’s what I’m trying to find out, sir”

“So what? You’re not trying to pull up the old trick that somebody is setting you up, right Y/N?”

“I know is hard to believe and if was in your position I would have the same disbelief as you right now, but unfortunately that is the pathetic truth”

“Do you expect me to believe that, agent Y/L/N?” He chuckled

I stare at him, responding “No, Mr. Reigns. I expect you to be reasonable, I would be naïve to think that I could do such an immature move like putting a tracker on you and expect you not to find out about it. As a matter of fact I would be straight up dumb if I thought that, that would ever work. So no I didn’t do it, somebody else did and that’s the reality, now whether you want to believe it or not it’s not my problem” I was taking a big risk talking to him like that, but it was the only thing I could do right now, bluff.

Roman places both of his hands on my thighs, leaning down until our faces are uncomfortably close.

“You play a dangerous game, Y/N. A very, very dangerous game” He licks my bottom lip “But I like that, it turns me on” Roman dragged his nose upon my neck, breathing in my scent

“You turn me on” He whispers in my ear “The things I can see myself doing to you are pure torture because that’s all what they are: imagination, and I want them to become reality. I want to see you spreading your legs for me, I want you in all fours on top of my bed, I want your pretty lips around my cock, I want my face in between your thighs, I want to fuck you in whatever pace I feel like it, I want you to take every inch of my cock, I wanna feel you stretching around me baby, moaning for me to go deeper and harder”

This man...The things he says, his voice so deep, his cologne filling up my nostrils and intoxicating me on his scent, on him.

“Roman” I whispered, but he continued

“You know there’s a chemistry between us, I know you can feel it too babygirl, so why hide it? Why suppress it, when we can put this stamina to good use, baby? I want it, you want it, it’s a simple math”

“That wouldn’t be very professional, I’m afraid” I mumbled

He leans back to look me in the eyes

“The tracker isn’t very professional as well is it?”

“I already told you it wasn’t me”

“And do you think a judge in court will care? There’s your personal DEA number in there, a number that technically only you have access to it and as far as I’m concerned that little tracker would be considered an invasion of privacy, I could sue not only you but the DEA for that. I mean, I signed an official document allowing you to search for anything you want in my professional life, not on my personal one and that tracker was installed on one of my private cars. Do you see my point, Y/N?”

“You want me to fuck you in order for you to keep your mouth shut” I angrily murmured

“Well, biologically speaking I would be the one to fuck you not the other way around” He smirked

“You’re so low, Roman” I spat

“Roman? No more formalities I see, I like that” He smiled

“Not happening” I shake my head vigorously

“What? Do you find me so repugnant that the thought of sleeping with me is that horrifying?” He asked amused

“It’s not that-“

“Oh, so you do find me attractive?” He asks pretending to be surprised

“Modesty doesn’t suits you, Mr. Reigns” I mocked

“So what is it?”

“If I do it, it’s gonna be like signing my guilty sentence. I would be screwing you to somehow make me innocent” I answered

Roman pulled me up from the chair, hugged my waist resting his hands mere inches from my ass.

“No baby, screwing me would be the equivalent to not getting fired, not having a billionaire lawsuit filled against you and not spending the rest of your life in prison” He smiled, now caressing my butt cheeks

“So babygirl, what’s gonna be?”

TO BE CONTINUED

Please let me know your thoughts on this series so far, feedbacks are always nice and appreciated 🥰❤️

#roman reigns one shot #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns imagine #roman reigns #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #illicitus series #masochist writes

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the-last-teabender · 3 years

Text

FANFIC: Oxventure - Duel Destinies

RATING: G

WORDS: Just under 7k

SUMMARY: Corazón gets hit on the head.

A/N: This isn’t my first time writing fanfic, but it’s my first time in literal decades writing something that a) isn’t going into a charity anthology and b) isn’t single-sentence goofs in my Gchat window with @randomthunk. So I actually am a little nervous to just yeet my work out into the world without an editor/publisher frontline protecting me from looking foolish. I do have plans to fic more tho.

I approached this as though I was writing an official tie-in because that’s my comfort zone (and occasionally my job). Which was a little challenging because there’s a lot that’s not part of the story but is part of the viewing experience. I have not mastered it in one story but the attempt was fun. Also I haven’t smashed alt-codes this obsessively while writing since I wrote about Señor 105.

Thanks aforementioned Ginger for being my beta reader and basically sitting on me to post this instead of hide it in my writing folder.

Anyway, if you like what I’m throwing out here, I have actually a lot of stuff in print and even more coming.

----------

“Right,” Dob said, pacing the length of the deck, “before we go, let’s review. Prudence, what happened yesterday?”

“We found a bad man killing off local slimes to make slime booze.”

“Good. Corazón, what happened yesterday?”

“I began my awesome new career as a detective and threw someone out a window.”

“All right. Merilwen?”

“Mow.”

“Excellent. Egbert?”

“I set a tavern on fire and got my seal very drunk on slime gin.”

“All right, that’s us caught up.”

That wasn’t the entire catch-up, but all of them knew the events of the day before well enough. The forest outside the town of Esterwell was in turmoil, according to the wizard Binbag after he tumbled unexpectedly out of a pantry. It was suddenly bereft of slimes — the cute little blobby creatures generally used for target practice by up-and-coming adventurers. As it happened, slimes had other uses. Serving as the base for a delightful high-end alcoholic brew, for one. Serving as the base of the entire local food chain, for another. If the slime population continued to plummet, eventually the other animal populations would follow suit.

An investigation of the local slime hunters (led by DCI Jeff Crimestopper, a pseudonym Corazón was becoming increasingly attached to) turned up that they were all in the employ of the same man: one Alonzo Horgan, owner of the Horgan Distillery. One especially talkative young hunter revealed that Horgan intended to “wring all the slimes out of Esterwell Forest” before upping sticks to his next hunting ground.

The goal was, in short, to stop Horgan’s machinations before he destabilized the entire local ecosystem and went on to do the same to others. Somewhere along the way, Dob had got it into his head that the goal was to start a brewery of their own and hold a cider-making contest in the Esterwell town square… an idea the group at large now referred to as “Plan C.”

Plan A, currently underway, was to continue the detective lark and either talk sense into Horgan or (more likely) run him out of town. Plan B was burning down the distillery.

“I’m still very much in favor of bumping Plan B up to Plan A,” said Prudence, wiggling her fingers as the group made their way back into Esterwell.

“Mrow,” Merilwen the cat grumbled from Dob’s shoulder, which translated to something like, “But that doesn’t actually solve the problem of making him stop.”

“Oh, fine,” Prudence huffed. “Detectives it is.”

Corazón pumped a fist low and (he thought) out of sight. “DCI Jeff Crimestopper back on the case, bay-bee.”

They arrived at the home of Alonzo Horgan — a palatial manor in a town that really wasn’t the sort to have palatial manors. At least half a dozen residences would have to have been knocked down to make way for the place, which stood half again as high as the buildings around it that had survived.

Merilwen hopped lightly from Dob’s shoulder, turning back into an elf again, as the half-orc tapped politely on the door.

“No, no.” Egbert shoved past him, balling up one scaly fist. “You’ve gotta really punch it.” He slammed his fist against the door several times, making it bow slightly under the pressure.

“Open up!” Corazón shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “We have a warrant!”

“Don’t just say we have a warrant!” Merilwen hissed.

The door was opened mere moments later by a tall, rail-thin man with an upturned nose and a downturned moustache. “Mmcan I help you?”

Corazón pushed past the man. “Yeah, you can take us to Alonzo Horgan. We’re taking him down to the station for questioning.”

“I’m afraid Mr. Horgan is not—” But the man was cut off as the rest of the group piled past and into the house.

“Where is he, then? Upstairs?” Corazón pointed up the stairwell, one foot on the steps.

The man at the door, to his credit, did his best to maintain his decorum. “Mr. Horgan is not taking visitors.”

“We’re not visitors,” Dob said gruffly, looming over the man, “we’re detectives.”

“Is that so? Well, I do hope you meant what you said about having a warrant. Otherwise I may have to take you to the authorities.”

Alonzo Horgan’s voice silenced the group, but had it not, his presence would have. Fully six-foot-four, a stocky mix of fat and muscle generally only seen on back alley brawlers, stuffed into a fancy suit. His glare was imperious; his moustache was excellent.

Corazón swiveled and approached the master of the house. “Alonzo Horgan?”

“Yes, I’m… not sure who else I would be.” Horgan seemed put out for a moment, but recovered himself. “May I ask what business you have here?”

“DCI Jeff Crimestopper.” Corazón pulled a piece of paper from his coat, flashed it briefly, and put it away again. “This is my DI, Dob Tyler.”

Dob grinned toothily; had it not been Dob, it might have looked threatening. “Here to make sure my loose cannon superior does things by the book.”

Corazón gestured to the rest of the party. “DS Prudence, DC Merilwen. And, er, PC Egbert, he mostly makes the tea.”

“It’s really good tea,” Egbert piped up.

“No offense, sir…” Horgan gestured to Corazón. “But you look more like a pirate than a detective.”

“Deep cover, obviously. I wouldn’t expect a civilian to understand.”

Horgan waved a hand dismissively. “Even if I were to entertain the idea that you’re who you claim to be, I feel I’ve done nothing to warrant an investigation.”

Merilwen narrowed her eyes. “Nothing, Mr. Horgan?” Her voice was tense, hitting that slightly higher octave that her friends knew meant violence was quickly becoming an option. “Killing off an entire species for your own benefit is ‘nothing’? Allowing the local wildlife to starve is ‘nothing’?”

“Oh, it’s about the distillery, is it? I promise you, my dear, I’ve heard it all before.”

Dob gritted his teeth, giving Horgan a highly dramatic, highly knowing look. “I’d be careful if I was you, sir. DC Merilwen has a license to… er. Bear.”

Still, none of this seemed to faze Horgan. “If you think complaining about my methods is going to have any effect… let me assure you, it hasn’t yet. Now, unless you have any actual business with me…”

Prudence stepped up. “All right, look. Fine. We’re not actually detectives.”

“You don’t say,” Horgan deadpanned.

“That said… the whole slime issue is a real thing, and we really do need you to stop hunting them out completely. Or at least cut back.” Prudence looked back at Merilwen. “Cut back? Would that be good enough?”

“I prefer the idea of him stopping completely,” Merilwen seethed.

Prudence gestured to Merilwen. “Yeah, what she said. But I mean, it affects you, too. Do you like, uh… wild boar? I guess? Rabbit? Pheasant? I don’t know.” She spread her hands in an exaggerated shrug. “Screw up the food chain and you don’t get any of those.”

Horgan looked them all over, one by one. “You come into my home. You pretend to be something you’re not. And then you make demands of me that would effectively shut down my business. Give me one reason why I should even listen to what you have to say.”

Egbert had mostly detached from the scene in front of him, his eyes scanning his surroundings in search of something entertaining. They lighted on a pair of crossed swords on the wall, with a bronze plaque underneath: Esterwell Annual Fencing Championship, Second Place. Without thinking, he blurted out, “A duel.”

“I beg your pardon?” Horgan asked. The rest of the party fixed Egbert with confused looks.

“A duel,” the dragonborn repeated, with a little more confidence this time — confidence filled in a lot of blanks, in his experience. “If one of us bests you in a duel, you have to at least give us a proper audience.”

Much to the group’s surprise — including Egbert’s, truth be told — Horgan seemed to consider it. “Hmm. Well. I suppose it makes more sense than… whatever we’ve been doing.” He gestured at the room in general, then turned to Corazón. “On the condition that I fight this one.”

Corazón grinned. “Hell yeah. I’ll fight you. Prepare to have your whole scene wrecked by Corazón de Ballena.”

“I thought you said your name was Jeff Crimestopper.”

“I told you. Deep cover.”

Horgan sighed wearily and turned to his doorman. “See them out. Tomorrow at sunrise on the lawn. Come alone, whatever your name is. And pray you do not lose. I have no patience for time-wasters.”

The five were ushered out without another word.

“Not sure it’s wise to challenge a prizewinning fighter to a duel,” Merilwen noted when they were outside town again. “That sort of seems like the main thing he’ll be ready for.”

Egbert waved a hand. “Pff, it’s fine. The plaque on his wall said he was only second place. That means there’s at least one person better than him in town.”

“Still… What’s going to happen if Corazón if he loses?”

Corazón laughed. “Pff. Hah. Nothing. Because Corazón won’t lose.” He unsheathed his rapier and stopped to take a few jabs at a nearby tree. A heavy branch, near to breaking, creaked overhead. “You know what my crew used to call me?”

“Yes,” said Prudence, “you’ve complained about it several times.”

“I mean in battle. You know, when we captured ships. My swordsmanship is second to none. They used to call me Corazón the—”

There was a crash, and silence.

Egbert stopped walking, waiting for the punchline. “Corazón the what?”

“Er.” Merilwen pointed back toward the tree hesitantly. “Corazón the unconscious, apparently.”

Prudence turned and lifted away the branch, wincing at the sight of the pirate splayed out on the ground. “Oh, dear…” Then she looked up at the group. “So does this mean I’m captain now?”

---

The general consensus had been to let Corazón be once he’d been carried back to the Joyful Damnation and bundled into bed. He would likely be full of opinions and complaints as soon as he woke up. That, and he’d need his rest before dueling Horgan the next morning.

There was no bleeding as far as they could tell. Just a big bruise that would get bruisier over the next few days. Egbert dropped a quick bit of healing on Corazón which, while it would likely be helpful in the long run, did nothing to wake him. Eventually, Dob took up a seat by the enormous bed in the captain’s quarters, keeping an eye on the patient and picking out a few chords to pass the time. Just as he was getting a good riff worked out...

“Ow.”

“Ow?” Dob leaned over the bed. “Did you say ow?”

“Yes, I said ow. Because I’m in pain.”

Dob jumped up from his seat and threw the door open. “Guys! Guys! He’s awake!”

Prudence was the first to run in. “Is he okay?”

“Sounds like it.”

Egbert followed, with Merilwen bringing up the rear. They crowded around Corazón’s bed, realized at the same time that that would probably look weird from his vantage point, and backed off a bit.

“Corazón?” Dob leaned in slightly. “How’s your head?”

He squinted up at Dob. “What did you call me?”

“Oh, right.” Dob laughed. “Silly me. How’s your head, DCI Crimestopper?”

This just seemed to confuse him more. “Who… what are you talking about?” Then he pulled himself up to sitting, perhaps a little more quickly than he ought, and pressed a hand to the top of his head, looking around. “I feel like I’ve been beaned with an entire tree. Where the hell am I?”

“Your room,” Prudence offered. “We figured you’d want a nap after the bludgeoning.”

He shook his head, still sounding a bit dazed. “No… this isn’t my room. My room is bigger. And it doesn’t rock and creak. Are we… are we on a ship?” He looked up at the others again, as though seeing them for the first time.

“... who the hell are all of you?”

There was an awkward silence.

“He’s messing about, right?” Egbert grinned nervously at the others.

“It’s Corazón,” Prudence said quickly, “of course he’s messing about. Just humor him, he’ll be on to something new when he’s tired of it.”

Dob was already on board at humor him. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “Oh, no! Corazón! All our precious memories, lost forever! Please say it isn’t so, old friend!”

If Corazón was acting, he was really leaning into the deadpan delivery. “Is this some sort of prank? It’s not a very good one, if…” His gaze wandered down to his hands resting on the bed sheet, his sleeves wrinkled back somewhat. His eyes went wide, and he made a sort of choking, stammering sound.

Then, again far more quickly than he probably should have, he threw himself out of bed, shoving past Egbert on the way to the largest of his mirrors. Carefully, he pulled his collar aside. And gasped.

“Oh, my God, I’ve been tattooed in my sleep!”

“Gosh,” Egbert said with an admiring smile, “he’s really devoting himself to the bit, isn’t he?”

Merilwen shook her head slightly. “I… don’t… know if it’s a bit.”

“Which one of you did this to me?!” Corazón pointed at the tentacle tattoo emerging from under his collar. “Why would you do that? Why… what happened to my hair!? How long have I been asleep!?” He grabbed the nearest person — Egbert — by the collar. “Are you trying to change my identity!? Am I going to be sold off to the highest bidder!? What’s your plan!? You have to tell me!”

Dob grabbed for his lute, a nervous grin plastered on his face. “Ooooh! Oh, dear! Looks like someone could use a nice lullaby.”

Merilwen held out a warning hand to Dob. “No? No. One second.” She waved a hand to Corazón, the way one might a skittish fox. “Hey, over here.”

“What!? What do you want now!?”

“Just. Okay. Calm down for a second. Calm…” Merilwen inhaled and exhaled slowly, guiding the breathing with her hands. Corazón, surprisingly did the same. That in itself was a sign that something was off.

“Okay, just keep your eyes on me, all right?”

“Sure.” Corazón’s voice was strained.

Merilwen rooted around in the pocket of one of Corazón’s jackets, folded neatly over a nearby chair. She found what she was looking for — a little leather pouch of gold coins — and poured the contents out into her hand. She showed them to Corazón, as though setting up a magic trick. He watched and nodded tensely, his jaw set.

“Dob,” she said with a sweet smile, opening the cabin window. “Would you do the honors?”

“Would I?” Without hesitation, he took the little handful of coins from Merilwen, slid over to the window, and chucked them out into the sea, one by one.

All eyes turned toward Corazón.

“Yes, and?” The nervousness was tinged with irritation. “What?”

Another awkward silence, this one longer. And awkwarder. As they all, in their own time, came to terms with the fact that Corazón was not, in fact, acting.

Prudence tapped him experimentally on the shoulder. He flinched away, balling his hands into fists and holding them in front of his face.

“Hey, hey, whoa! No, no, we’re your friends! It’s us!” Prudence smiled, gesturing around the room. “You know. The Oxventurers! Can’t you recognize us?”

Corazón lowered his fists. “If you mean could I pick you out of a lineup, then yes, I certainly could.”

“Corazón…”

“Hff… and stop calling me that! It’s weird!” He brushed off his sleeve where Prudence had tapped him. “If you’re my kidnappers, then I would hope you already know who I am.”

“Y-Yeah.... Sorry.” Prudence frowned, then smiled. “Percy?”

“Thank you. That’s more like it.” And Corazón made a break for the deck.

---

“All I’m saying,” said the half-orc with the large hammer and the very nice hair, “is that we could be having a cider-making contest in the town square right now.”

“Or burning things,” said the tiefling, as a pair of ancient tomes played around her heels like rowdy puppies. “We could also be burning things right now.”

If this was a kidnapping, it was a very civilized one. Percy hadn’t had any practical experience with being kidnapped, to be fair. His father had suggested that it might happen once or twice in his youth, because that was just how life was for the children of rich and influential people. But after making it to adulthood without ever waking up in a dingy cellar surrounded by leering mercenaries, he’d just put it to the side.

He’d also been a bit disappointed, as escaping from said mercenaries could have been fun. But in retrospect, he might not have done as well at that as he liked to pretend.

He wasn’t tied up, or locked up. At worst, he had been prevented from leaping off the ship by all four of his kidnappers (and a seal, he was still contending with that information) piling themselves on top of him. They’d bundled him back into the captain’s quarters while they consulted with each other. Percy took the time to shave — the itch from his stubble was frazzling his already-frazzled brain — and change into a shirt that still had functional buttons.

The change had gotten a slight stare of disbelief from his captors, as though he’d gone and swapped heads, but no actual comments were made. And now, the dragonborn was sitting by him on the deck and handing him a cup of tea, and it smelled suspiciously like what he drank at home, and yes, this was absolutely one of his teacups.

“So!” the dragonborn said with a toothy grin. “Cora-... er, Percival. Percy? Mr. Milquetoast? Sorry, not sure what to call you now.” He had a cup of his own, but rather than sipping from it, he opened his long snout and splashed the contents inside. Judging by the reaction that followed, the tea was still very hot.

“Just, er… whichever? I guess?” Why was he sitting on a ship drinking tea with his kidnappers while they asked what to call him? Why had his father not been mentioned yet? Was that still incoming? His teacup rattled against the saucer.

“Mmmm… Percy. I’ve always thought you looked like a Percy.”

“Always?” Percy put his teacup down shakily on its saucer. “Then you’ve been spying on me? For how long?”

“No!” The dragonborn waved a hand frantically in front of himself. “No, no, I mean… we’re not…” He looked behind him, where the other three were peering at the scene thoughtfully. “Um, guys, I’m not doing great. Someone else try.”

The elf stepped in and tapped him on the shoulder, as though relieving him from duty. Good. As far as Percy could tell, she was the most logical of the group. She wasn’t panicking… not that he could see, at least.

“So you’re Good Cop, then?” Percy eyed her warily.

“No…” The elf sighed, a sort of long-suffering sigh that made him feel like this was not the first long-suffering sigh she’d issued him. “We’re your friends, really. And we’re just trying to figure out how to help you.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “My friends.”

“Yes.”

“Not magical kidnappers looking for a piece of the Milquetoast fortune.”

“No. Not magical kidnappers looking for a piece of the family fortune. I promise.”

“I mean, I have friends at home. I can just go home to my actual friends, and not whatever you guys are pretending to be.”

The elf’s face settled into an expression that somehow managed to be both neutral and confrontational, her lips pressed into a line. “Name four friends you have at home.”

Damn. “Uh, th-there’s, uh… there’s Steve… F-Friendsman.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s, a-um, Roger… M’buddy.”

The elf pressed a hand to her face. “Please, at least let us try to help you.”

She seemed absolutely genuine. It was making his head hurt. This was not how criminals acted. As far as he knew. “Fine, help me, or whatever it is you want to do.”

“All right, so…” The elf clasped her hands together. “It’s probably just a matter of jogging your memory. You got a little bop on the head, it shook things up, but we can help you connect things up again. Right?”

“Sure,” Percy said hesitantly, now with the added wrinkle of wondering when and how he’d been hit over the head. He considered asking, but he could already hear the answer. No, we didn’t hit you over the head intentionally. It was a love tap. Something like that.

The elf smiled. It didn’t seem like a kidnapper’s smile. But again, he had nothing to go on. Maybe kidnappers had really nice smiles. “Okay, good. So let’s just rattle out a few of the high points, and see what your brain latches onto.”

Percy nodded, taking a sip from the teacup he still held in a death grip.

“Okay. Spicy rat?” She paused, and he wasn’t sure what for. After a short silence, she picked up again. “No? Okay, that was a while ago, admittedly. Uh… baby-making watch?”

“Babies don’t come from watches,” Percy scoffed. “They come from under cabbage leaves.”

The elf ground to a halt in her questioning, but picked up again with a shake of the head. “What about the party? The one where you went dressed as a sexy nurse and made a teenage girl cry.”

Percy scowled. “I would never do that!”

The half-orc chuckled. “Oh, you very much did.”

“I will not allow you to paint me with the same brush as you, you… s-scoundrels!” Percy felt a chill down the back of his neck. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? You’re trying to convince me I’m one of you and whisk me away to do unspeakable crimes, is that it?”

“Hasn’t taken much trying so far, mate,” Merilwen grumbled.

“Waaaait wait wait wait.” The tiefling squeezed up next to the elf. “We’re coming at this from the wrong angle. He’s clearly forgotten stuff from before we met him, too, right? What we need to do is remind him of why he became a pirate.”

Percy looked around the ship. Then down at the clothes he’d woken up in. And the tattoo on his wrist. “I’m a pirate?”

“Yep, you are a pirate.”

“So… this really is my ship?”

“Er, our ship, yes.” The tiefling seemed to take a lot of pride in saying that. Well, being co-owner of a ship was something to be proud of… if it was true, he’d probably let himself feel a bit proud, too. “So, maybe if you can summon up the feelings that made you want to run away from home and be a pirate, the rest will follow. So, tell us about your dad.”

“He’s… dumb?” Percy shrugged. “He’s annoying? I don’t know, it’s a lot of effort to run away from him for being dumb and annoying. I’ve got nothing.”

The tiefling leaned in conspiratorially. “Nothing about what a bad dad he is? How he has ridiculous expectations of you? Doesn’t want you to have fun and live your own life?” She paused. “How he’s got a stupid wig and he’s all stuffy and bossy?”

Percy leaned away from her. “You seem to have plenty against him already.”

“Oh, no, no. I don’t hate him. You do.”

“No, it really does sound like it’s you.”

The tiefling laughed, waving a hand. “Oh, no, that’s just because he bothers you. It’s a support thing. I’d totally love to live in his big ol’ house.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t like my father, but you do like his money, and that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

The tiefling’s face twisted into a confused frown. “Oh, man. Yeah, we do kinda sound like we kidnapped you for ransom, don’t we?”

Percy flinched away, nearly dropping his teacup. Oddly, the tiefling was once again trying to reassure him. “Which we didn’t?? Which we didn’t. I’m just saying.” She sighed. “I guess he forgot whatever happened that made him want to run away, too. How about you, Egbert? Got any paladin magic for him?”

“I’ve got something better!”

All eyes, Percy’s included, turned to the dragonborn — who was now swinging a mace from one clawed hand.

“So, you know how in all the stories, right? Someone gets knocked on the head and gets amnesia, but then they get hit in the same spot and all their memories come back. Let’s just do that!”

The dragonborn strode over to Percy, winding up the mace. Percy stumbled backwards, his teacup falling and shattering on the deck. “Don’t you dare!”

“Egbert, not that mace!” the elf shouted.

“Oh, it’s fiiiine. I had to hit whatsisname loads of times before he actually turned into a seal.”

Percy looked at the seal. The seal looked back.

“Eg.”

The dragonborn raised his mace over his head. Percy stumbled backwards towards the door to the captain’s quarters, eyes locked on the cursed weapon. He reached behind him for the doorknob and twisted frantically. The door wouldn’t give way.

The elf flung herself at the dragonborn, turning into an octopus in midair. The two hit the deck, the mace rolling harmlessly across the deck as the octopus held the would-be attacker in place. Percy finally managed to yank the door open, racing into the captain’s quarters and slamming the door behind him.

“I meant a spell!” Percy heard the tiefling yell from the other side of the door. “You’ve got more healing spells, don’t you?”

“Oh, riiiight…”

There was a gentle tap at the door. Percy eyed it nervously.

“Heeey, buddy. You okay?” It was the half-orc. “Can I come in?”

“No, you absolutely cannot come in. You’re all insane and there’s a seal man out there saying egg.”

“That’s cool, that’s cool. I’ll just sit out here, how’s that?”

Percy heard a gentle thump against the other side of the door. “So… you really don’t remember anything, do you? About us, or your pirate crew, or any of that?”

“Last thing I remember is going to bed at Milquetoast Manor and thinking tomorrow night’s party was going to be very boring. Then I woke up in bed on a strange boat, with all of you standing over me looking ready to dissect me or something.” Percy sat down, leaning on the other side of the door. His head still felt foggy. “So? Which one of you blackjacked me?”

“You blackjacked yourself with a tree.”

Percy frowned. “Is that the sort of thing I’m likely to do?”

“Oh, yes,” the half-orc said cheerfully. “Merilwen had a stack of tree puns ready to go, but under the circumstances it seemed, uh… bit tasteless.”

“Merilwen?”

“The elf. Don’t worry, you can hear them later. You know, when your head’s right again.” A pause. “Oh! Haha. Of course. I’m Dob, by the way. The tiefling is Prudence, and the big dragon man is Egbert. And we’re all your friends, and we all do super cool things together.”

Percy nodded, still not completely convinced. Then he realized Dob wouldn’t be able to see him on the other side of the door. “If you say so.”

“Gosh. Introducing myself to you. That brings back memories.” Dob stopped himself, fumbling, as if he’d just said something extremely offensive. “I mean… you know…”

Against his better judgment, Percy got up and opened the door. Dob, leaning heavily on it, tumbled backwards… but turned the tumble into a backwards somersault and landed lightly on his feet. He gave a little bow, and Percy felt he ought to clap. Just considering the effort.

“You ready to come out and talk to the others?”

Percy leaned to one side and looked out onto the deck. Egbert was on his feet again, with Merilwen (now an elf) still clinging to his back, as though uncertain whether the dragonborn could be trusted on his own yet. Prudence wore a friendly smile that seemed to say “I’m not going to sacrifice you to my eldritch god, but I’m also not not going to sacrifice you to my eldritch god.” His trusted friends. Apparently.

Before Percy could answer, Dob slapped him on the back and walked him out onto the deck. “All right. We’ve all had a little breather, a little think, and I think… and this is just me… we should back-burner the memory loss issue and focus on the bigger problem.”

“There’s a bigger problem?” Percy looked at Dob incredulously.

The group at large winced. “Yeah…” Dob continued to speak for the group, and no one seemed to mind being relieved of that duty for the moment. “See, Percy. Percival. Friend. Our good friend of so long…”

“Just tell me what’s going to happen to me.”

“You have to duel someone tomorrow morning.”

Percy extracted himself from Dob’s friendly side-arm. “What? Why? Why would I do that?”

“Again,” said Dob, “if it makes you feel better, it is extremely on brand.”

“Hsfd… it doesn’t make me feel better! I have to fight someone tomorrow and I’m not me! I mean, I am me, but I’m not this other me who went and did a thing I didn’t do!”

Amongst them, Percy’s friends(?) laid out the entire situation. All he managed to retain were slimes, collapse of the natural world, very large man, and imminent swordfight. The rest was a sort of blur, and one he was in no mood to attempt to figure out.

“I can’t do this.” It was a statement of fact. “Maybe this Corazón guy can do this, but I can’t. Horgan’s going to be expecting some jerk pirate who can swordfight.”

“We can try another refresher,” suggested Merilwen.

Egbert reached for his mace. “I could try—-”

“No,” said everyone, possibly even the seal.

“Look,” Dob said gently, “we’ll have puh-lenty of time to work on the memory thing, right? All we have to do is get through tomorrow, and if it hasn’t cleared up by then, we’ll find someone to help you, no problem.”

“How can you be so sure?” Percy asked, the fretting feeling coming back even stronger than before.

Egbert shrugged. “It’ll happen. That’s how it tends to go. A problem comes up, and then a couple days later someone comes along with a quest that’ll fix it. It’s really handy.”

“Okay, that’s great for after tomorrow morning. But what about me, tomorrow morning, with swords? What’s my guarantee I get past that alive? Because I’ve never actually stabbed a man.”

“Yes you have,” Prudence pointed out.

“Like a lot,” Merilwen added.

“Apparently you kicked a man to death once,” said Egbert. “I mean, I found out later, but I believe it.”

“But I don’t remember that!” Percy flailed an arm helplessly. “It’s… hds… that’s some future guy and I’m not the future guy, I’m the me guy. How is the me guy going to survive?”

The group fell silent.

“... did I actually kick a man to death?”

They all nodded.

“Oh…”

“And see? That’s why we believe in you, Cor… er, Percy.” Dob threw an arm around Percy’s shoulders again. “We know what you’re capable of. We know it’s in here.” He jabbed at Percy’s chest with one finger. “And in here.” At his head.

“Ow!”

“The head, Dob,” Merilwen hissed, “watch the head.”

“Right, right. Look. We’ve got tonight to train you up into a believable Corazón de Ballena. You’ve already got the look, you’ve already got the voice. That’s more than most people start with.”

Percy let out a weak groan.

“Hey! No, this is good! We can do this! And maybe, somewhere along the way, something will trigger the ol’ bean and the memories will just come flooding back. Right, guys?”

The rest of the team seemed to believe it about as much as Percy did. Which wasn’t much.

“Are you sure we can’t just…” Percy motioned to the anchor rope. “Leave?”

“No,” Merilwen said firmly. But her expression was still hesitant. “No, we have to stop Horgan. More than anything else, that has to happen.”

She was insistent. This was important to her. Percy groaned again.

“Come on, buddy.” Dob lifted his arm from Percy’s shoulders, grabbing him by both arms and staring him in the eyes. “Look me in the eye.”

“Yeah. Looking.”

“Now. Are you a Thieves Cant, or a Thieves Can?”

Merilwen, at least, seemed to appreciate what Dob was going for.

---

Plan B no longer stood for Burning. Plan B, as indicated by a wild-shaped Merilwen taking up a spot behind the topiaries on Horgan’s lawn, now stood for Bear. And possibly Bomb, and Blast, and Bard Casts Thunder Wave, depending on who got trigger-happy first.

No amount of swordfighting or storytelling brought Corazón’s memory back. Nor did any amount of actually insisting on calling him Corazón. Their last ditch hope — that he’d wake up the next morning acting like nothing had happened — didn’t pan out, either. Dob gave pep talk after pep talk as Corazón fretted uncharacteristically, the latter eventually wrapping the uneaten bacon sandwich he’d made for himself in a piece of paper and stowing it in a jacket pocket. Finally, though, they’d all had to take up their positions and leave the rest to luck.

Corazón was left to make the walk up the lawn alone, but the other four had formed a perimeter: Merilwen in the topiary, Dob in a nearby tree, Prudence behind a fence, and Egbert peering over a hedge. Dob promised to shoot Corazón an occasional prompt if things got hairy; but, by and large, it was all him.

As the sun began to rise, Corazón walked up the paved path to the appointed spot. He’d not quite gotten his own swagger down, instead walking slow, measured steps with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

Try to look like you’re too cool for the room! Dob thought; Corazón looked up and around, surprised, then seemed to remember what Dob had said about sending mental messages. He stopped where he was, pulled his hands out of his pockets, squared his shoulders, and walked even more awkwardly up the path.

Fine. It’d have to do.

Just as the light of sunrise hit its best and most aesthetic hue, Alonzo Horgan and his servant walked out. The former wore a rapier at his belt.

“Corazón de Ballena,” Horgan said broadly, his voice dripping with fake friendliness. “Or are we going by something new today?”

“No, er, that’s me.”

Dob thought another swift message.

“I mean… that’s right! That’s me, Corazón. The mighty pirate. Here to run you through like a tasty kebab and grill… grill you on the fires of justice? What the hell does that mean?”

Just go with it, Dob thought irritably, but the moment had passed. Shame. He was rather proud of that one.

Horgan eyed Corazón with amusement. “I can wait if you need a moment.”

“No, no. Erm. Yes, that’s me.” Corazón’s hand hovered over the hilt of his rapier. He was tense. He was ready. He might have been about to faint. It was hard to tell.

Horgan’s retainer’s voice was soft. None of them could hear it from their respective points along the perimeter. Corazón didn’t look especially surprised by any of it, which hopefully meant there was nothing odd about the rules of the duel.

From their spots, separated though each of them was, they all had the same thought at the same time: what would it take? What hadn’t they done? Would they need a spell? Some sort of quest? A skilled healer? Would another bop on the head really have done it?

A shrill whistle blew. Each of them was shaken out of their thoughts to see that the duel had begun, and Corazón was already flagging quickly. It was less of a duel and more of a chase, the enormous Horgan lumbering across the lawn after his smaller opponent. Corazón, for his part, was holding his ground… though “his ground” was constantly moving backwards across the lawn in zigzags.

His heel came dangerously close to a stray root, nearly hidden by the grass.

“Look out!” Egbert shouted. Merilwen, Dob, and Prudence shushed him. Horgan looked up and around for the source of the voice. Corazón, on the other hand, missed the warning entirely. His heel caught on the root, and he windmilled backwards, landing flat on his back.

Merilwen hesitated behind the topiary, one huge, clawed paw creeping around the side of the greenery. Was it go time? The others were in the same state of indecision, poised to attack but waiting to see what happened.

Corazón lifted his head slightly. The massive form of Horgan hovering over him, blade raised threatening, blocked out the faint light of sunrise. The sword hung there for a moment… then was flung across the lawn, accompanied by a disgusted sigh from Horgan.

“How very disappointing.”

The group shot each other quick glances. The message was clear. Well, clear-ish. “Stop Horgan before he can leave” was clear enough, but what would be done with him once apprehended was likely still up in the air. Corazón, unaware of any of this, propped himself up on his elbows.

“Where are you going?” he asked weakly. “We’re not done here.”

“I rather think we are.” Horgan shook his head in… amusement? Disappointment? It was hard to tell. “What a shame. You were so full of piss and vinegar yesterday, and today you’ve got no real fight in you.”

“I’ve got fight… I’ve got plenty of… hhhh.” Corazón put a hand to his head.

“Serves me right, thinking I’d get a good fight out of some puffed-up fake pirate.”

“... what did you say?” Corazón’s voice was suddenly oddly sharp and cold.

Horgan chuckled. “You heard me. You’re less convincing than the chap I hired for my niece’s seventh birthday party.” He waved a hand to his servant. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve not had breakfast yet and I’m peckish. Think I might go to the kitchen and have a bit of a graze.”

On his next step, Horgan’s booted foot slid forward, sending him falling backwards into a puddle of grease that had absolutely not been there moments ago. Now it was his turn to look up at a looming silhouette: Corazón de Ballena, sword pointing down threateningly in one hand, bacon sandwich in the other.

“How appropriate. You fight like a cow.”

Horgan spluttered, eyes bulging. “You… what nonsense is this!?”

“It’s called the power of grease, that’s what nonsense this is. Now get up and fight me so we can have our little talk. Or would you rather we just go ahead and burn your whole scene down?”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

“Yeah, you’re right, I wouldn’t. I think Prudence might, though.” Corazón shouted toward the fence. “Prudence! Plan B for burn?”

Prudence threw her hands in the air. “Plan B for buuuurn!”

Horgan had managed to pull himself up to one knee, the grease still dangerously slick beneath him. “I said to come alone!”

“Yeah, well, pirate. Don’t know what you expected.” Corazón stepped back, taking a bite of his sandwich. “So, I’m calling this a win for Team Oxventure. Which means it’s time for some negotiations concerning your, er, current business model.”

“But…” Horgan looked in the direction of his servant. He was long gone. Whether he’d run off, or whether the large bear standing where he’d stood had disposed of him, Horgan couldn’t tell.

“Oh, yes. That’s our sustainability advisor, Merilwen. She’ll be taking over from here.”

Merilwen growled.

---

“So what you’re saying,” said Egbert, “is that my plan was the best and would have worked.”

“Hff… no! Absolutely not.” Corazón was rubbing a hand over his chin, displeased with the lack of facial hair. “A one-in-six chance of being turned into an animal is not a best plan. Why did you let me shave? I hate it.”

“It’ll grow back.” Prudence poured out a mug of slime beer… the last remaining barrel, which they’d taken with them as a gratuity after aggressively convincing Horgan to discontinue his fermented slime line. She offered the mug to Merilwen, who waved a hand in front of herself emphatically.

“No, I don’t want to drink the poor baby slimes…” The rest became too high-pitched and tearful to translate.

“I’ll drink the poor baby slimes.” Dob grabbed the mug and necked half of it, much to Merilwen’s chagrin. “Anyway, what snapped you out of it? Was it hitting your head again?”

Corazón wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Don’t know. I know I got really mad when whatsisname called me a fake pirate, and I wasn’t having that.”

Prudence’s eyes lit up. “Ohh, spite! Literally the one thing we didn’t think to try!”

“Well,” said Dob, passing Corazón his mended teacup topped off with beer, “I think we’ve all had a chance to learn something about friendship and patience and being true to ourselves.”

Egbert poured himself a pint. “I haven’t learned anything.”

“I have.”

Everyone looked at Corazón. “Have you?” Dob asked.

“Yep.” Corazón took a sip of beer from the teacup. “We are absolutely terrifying.”

Merilwen nodded sagely.

“Yeah,” Prudence said dreamily. “It’s good.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room, and I’m not coming out again until my good facial hair is back.” The door to the captain’s quarters slammed behind Corazón.

And that is the story of how the Oxventurers brought down a corrupt businessman with a breakfast sandwich.

#oxventure #outside xbox #i'm supposed to be writing other things but i won't tell if you won't #anyway yes i write stories a lot i do them for a living #please read them #i love approval from strangers

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brothermarc7theatre · 3 years

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“Head Over Heels” show #816

A couple of years ago, Head Over Heels received its pre-Broadway run in San Francisco and I was tempted to see it. However, in those pre-COVID days, free time was near-non-existent, so I chose to simply wait to see it, knowing it was headed to Broadway. In the 2018-2019 season it opened and, unfortunately, closed before my annual NYC trip, but I feared not. I remember telling whomever would listen, “I’m good; I know Selma’s gonna do it.” I was right, and I am happy that Selma Arts Center’s production, helmed by Michael Christopher Flores, was my first time seeing The Go-Go’s done theatrically. A production that is perfectly-suited for an outdoor venue, Selma’s Head Over Heels is the right dose of post(ish)-pandemic musical medicine we’ve been craving.

Loosely based on 16th century’s The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia by Sir Philip Sydney, the music of the Go-Go’s meets literature in the style of your basic jukebox musical. All the foundations are there: multiple love stories, mistaken identities/misunderstandings, a nerdy guy ya’ love to root for, and lots of dancing. Where Head Over Heels rises above most is that audiences aren’t wading through scenes just to get to the next song. Rather, the songs complement the depth of the character’s emotion(s), and, at times, forward the plot. Head Over Heels’ weakness is that its book, originally conceived by Jeff Whitty and then James Magruder, does nearly nothing to serve the production as a whole. And unless you’re a diehard fan of The Go-Go’s, you probably know about four-and-a-half of their hits, and you will find yourself muttering, “Oh! I didn’t know The Go-Go’s sang that!” However, in the exceptional hands of Flores’ direction and choreography, and Mindy Ramos’ stellar vocal direction, this production rises above the material in a way that will have you getting the beat from the show’s opening moments.

Flores astutely makes the show’s jokes and love plots clear, allowing the few gems in the book to come through to audiences. Where Flores’ direction shines is how he calibrates a heightened delivery of the scenes while taking the songs seriously, whether they be seriously-fun, seriously-romantic, seriously-comedic, etc. Troy Sloan delivers an affable Musidorus/Cleophila, whose fluid allure becomes the fixation of three different characters in the play. Sloan’s early solo, “Mad About You,” is a triumph and he never relinquishes the cheering we give him as an audience. Opposite Sloan is a pitch-perfect Annelise Escobedo Lyman as Philoclea, the true apple of Musidorus’ eye. Lyman shines in her leading of the trio, “Good Girl,” delivering innocence and genuine love for her beloved while giving dynamite vibrato. Her ongoing snippets of duet and solos are welcomed turns among a, honestly, fantastic vocal company. Playing Pamela, sister to Philoclea, is Julia Prieto, who gives not only a vocally dominating performance, but one which delivers on the comedy, romance, and drama the role requires. “Beautiful” is a wonderful solo turn for Prieto, and “How Much More,” is a gem. Prieto and Jessica Meredith, playing Pamela’s maid/eventual lover, deliver a show-stopping duet in “Automatic Rainy Day,” and nail the delivery of their romantic arc, the most solidly written in the show.

(Company of Head Over Heels; Photo credit: Kyle Lowe)

William Bishop, as King Basilius, and Ellie West, as Queen Gynecia, give wonderful, appropriately juxtaposing performances of royal buffoonery (the King) and royal intelligence and duty (the Queen). With solid vocal and acting work throughout, their highlight is in their act two duet, “This Old Feeling,” complete with a memorable comedic performance by Sloan, balancing the two’s source of affection. Both West and Bishop lead a wonderful “Heaven is a Place on Earth,” a nice upbeat moment amongst the act two drama. Nwachukwu is a dominating force, both vocally and physically, as the oracle-delivering Pythio. Partnered with I Adeficha’s Snake-puppetry/Pit singing, Nwachukwu gives the musical a grounded focus, a standout performance which truly benefits from their flawless execution of the old theatre note, “less is more.” With engaging crouching, a few sliding stair units, and featured choreography, Nwachukwu’s turns at “A Vision of Nowness,” a few reprises, and “Our Lips are Sealed” are gold. Juan Luis Guzman delivers a scene-stealing turn as Dametas, father to Mopsa. It’s never an easy job to be the comedic relief in a musical comedy, but with Guzman’s physical antics and eloquent delivery of several plot-serving asides, he comes through with aplomb.

(Front center-right: Nwachukwu (Pythio), Up on stairs: I Adeficha (Snake/Pit Singer); The Arcadian ensemble of Head Over Heels; Photo credit: Kyle Lowe)

Now, the Arcadian ensemble. For those who don’t know, “jukebox musical” almost never equates to “easy singing,” and this ensemble delivers on all fronts. The ensemble is truly a unit in voice and in movement. With Flores having a very specific storytelling style while still creating formations and aesthetics which don’t bore, the movement and dance breaks in the score are filled without overdoing. The ensemble is giving it all, in the heat, outside, on a not-cushy stage, and you would have no idea because their execution appears effortless and fun. Flores choreographs the entire company with intelligent vision, always serving the script. I found his (without spoiling it) context of a lift that Sloan receives in act one’s “Mad About You” to have a wonderfully tender meaning when reprised after act two’s “Here You Are.”

Within an intentionally stripped-down tech, it is Damen Pardo’s costume designs which take center focus, and rightly so. The entire company is dressed with enthusiasm in color palettes to complement the company numbers and individual journeys the principal characters take. Head Over Heels is a show that I never have to see again because I’ve seen a peak production. Many bravos and bravas to Flores, Ramos, team, and cast for putting on a highly entertaining show, one which is progressive in bringing to light the importance of understanding pronouns, gender fluidity, and societal norms. These topics are given discussion, and explored through question, in a responsible manner, both in the show and in Selma Arts Center’s program excerpt. It’s not often, or ever really, that one will receive entertainment and education at a jukebox musical. Selma Arts Center has nailed it, so head out and go see this show!

#selmaartscenter #headoverheels #thegogos #theatre #musical #musicaltheatre #theatrereview

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need-a-new-hobby · 4 years

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To Hell...

note: i hate when two gifs are different sizes but whatever// i hate this episode because of the creep factor//but i wrote it anyway for the extra ✨trauma ✨

warning: blood, gore, violence, assault, kidnapping umm... i can’t think of anything else.

Derek narrowed his eyes at Piper’s cheerful behaviour. It was like she was floating as she hummed, dutifully doing her paperwork. Time to annoy her. He flaunted over to her, perching on her desk. “Hey angel.”

“Yes demon-spawn. How may I be of service?” Piper beamed at him while he made a show of being injured. Emily whacked him on the head as she walked past to get to her own desk and Spencer smirked at his best friend while passing Piper her cup of tea.

“What, nothing for me pretty boy?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Piper. “You did this, turning my sweet brother against me using your… angelic wiles.” Piper laughed as she got up to follow JJ into the conference room

“Maybe it was just your devilish charm running out.” Spencer snickered and followed Derek inside.

“We have a case in Detroit.” Piper raised an eyebrow at the file in front of her while JJ briefed the team. “His name's William Hightower. He claims over the past month, he's picked 10 people off the streets of Detroit, killed them, dumped their bodies across the border in Canada.

“So, what’s the catch?” Derek asked.

“He hasn’t revealed the dumpsite. He’s demanded to speak to the FBI. We only have 48 hours to keep him detained.”

“Do we have confirmation these people are even missing?” Spencer asked.

“Two were reported missing by family months ago, but they all appear to be transients. We're having a hard time finding any information on them.”

“Yeah, lot of state social services prefer making themselves look good on paper by neglecting the homeless,” Piper scoffed bitterly. “If they don’t keep tabs or records on them, who’s to say they exist?”

“Yeah, well, William Hightower’s background doesn’t suggest any of that. Until 2 months ago, he was a sergeant in the US army. He did 2 tours in Iraq. Lost his left leg in a roadside ambush. He was discharged with a purple heart and a commendation for valour.”

“Here’s what I don’t get,” JJ stated. “He manages to get away with 10 murders, why crash the guard post?”

“Maybe he wanted the attention,” Derek answered.

“Could be an attempted suicide too,” Emily added.

“And maybe he was trying to take as many people with him as he could,” Rossi finished.

“It may also be a case of post-traumatic stress disorder,” Spencer added, twirling his pen as Piper nodded.

“PTSD has a myriad of effects,” Piper contributed. “It’s possible he perceived the border agents as threats, and he acted in accordance.”

“Do we think he’s legit?”

“I don’t know, but it’s too many bodies to risk.” Hotch explained. “We’ll discuss victimology on the jet. Wheels up in 20.” Piper sighed as she got up, taking the file with her. The seven agents divided into two SUVs and filed into the jet.

Piper sat in front of Spencer going through her file while he plotted out key points. She tried to ignore the urge to sweep the hair out of his eyes, focusing on victimology instead. She carefully laid out the 10 photos and saw Garcia pop up on her laptop screen. “Hello my lovelies.”

“Garcia, he’s come home two months ago with an award and commendation,” Piper mused. “Do we have any record of what he’s been doing after?”

“No, why?”

“Well, a lot of war-wounded soldiers become disillusioned. They see a part of themselves lost in a war for a country that doesn’t care. But that doesn’t fit the crime.”

“It’s likelier he’ll show empathy for the transients rather than hatred,” Emily continued from the seat next to her, nodding.

“Unless he feels a compulsion to continue serving his country. Losing the leg could be a trigger for him,” Rossi suggested.

“Can’t re-enlist, most likely living off a veteran’s benefit, both situations could’ve overwhelmed him, creating a psychotic break,” Derek proposed.

“What about victimology?” Hotch’s direction prompted Emily.

“He definitely doesn't have a type. The only consistency is that they were all abducted in the same area.”

“Yeah, what do we know about that?” JJ asked Spencer from her perch next to Rossi.

“It's called the Cass Corridor. It's right here,” he pointed to the map. “It has an extremely high concentration of drug trafficking, prostitution, and homeless people. All high-risk behaviour.”

“So, for this guy, maybe it's more about opportunity than victimology,” Derek suggested.

“Morgan and Prentiss, when we land, I want you to head straight to Detroit. See if you hear anything in the whisper stream. I want to make sure we have a crime before we get too deeply into this.”

“I hear Detroit is beautiful in the spring,” Emily murmured to Derek.

“The rest of us will meet with the legal attaché before we hit the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.”

“Actually, sir, the officer in charge said that his team was part of a fellowship the BAU gave to train police forces in profiling.”

“That was the first one we ever did,” Rossi reminisced. “Jeff Bedwell,” he recognised from the file.

“You know him?”

“Yeah.”

“Is he any good?”

“He better be. I trained him.” With their conference over, Piper left to grab a cup of coffee from the back of the plane, Spencer following him. He leaned against the counter while Piper poured two cups.

“So, should we get dinner when this is over?” Piper laughed, almost spilling the coffee.

“That’s one way of asking.” Giggles bubbled out of her as she spooned out 3 teaspoons of sugar for her and an extra for him.

“Oh, come on…please,” he pleaded, pouting.

“You know, we could ask Hotch for an extra day in Detroit, see the Detroit Historical Museum. You know they have those exhibitions on the Underground Railroad.” Piper had a gleam in her eye as she handed him his coffee.

“And then dinner?” She looked at his hopeful face.

“Yes,” she whispered before going over to sit next to Emily. Spencer tried to wipe the giddy smile off his face, sipping his coffee as he sat next to Derek. His buoyant feeling dissipated as the 5 agents entered the spacious office. Piper almost whistled at the sheer resources at their disposal. “Maybe we should go to Canada,” she whispered to JJ. “We could even get horses.” JJ snickered at Piper’s beaming smile.

“I've got a victim board and timelines set up on monitors in the conference room and you’ve got glass boards and unlimited markers. Anything you need, you've got the run of the place,” Bedwell announced as he walked them through to the conference room.

“We appreciate it,” Rossi thanked him.

“Don't thank me. Thank the unsub. He's the one that put you all in charge.” He motioned towards the ten victims on the board.

“I need to go talk to Garcia, see if she had any luck locating the family members,” JJ announced.

“And check records for multiple border crosses,” Hotch added. “See if we get any hits for the days the victims went missing.”

“Local PD didn’t know they were missing?” Piper asked Bedwell.

“More like they didn’t care.”

“Has he contacted family?” Bedwell looked at Rossi.

“Refuses a lawyer, too.”

“He's in interrogation?”

“Waiting for us.” Hotch shared a look with Dave, as though pointing to a neon sign saying ‘US!’.

“This guy's US army. He demanded to talk to the FBI. He's not gonna want to talk to anyone but the person he thinks is in charge.”

“Of course. I'll take you to him.”

While Hotch and Rossi took over the interrogation, the latter on standby to watch for behavioural cues, Spencer and Piper watched the security footage of the border incident frame by frame. They watched William drive through the check, then stop. When being called to move, they watched his speed off into a U-turn and take down the guard post. She leaned back in her chair, pulling out an apple from her bag. “It doesn’t look like PTSD.”

“It doesn’t.” Piper shook her head.

“Look at him. The entire time he is absolutely calm. There’s no hesitation except in that first moment.” Piper crunched into her apple.

“Which means, if he had wanted to kill them, he wouldn’t have stopped.” Spencer re-winded it to the beginning. “See how they all come outside to tell him to keep moving. Someone organised enough to kill 10 people wouldn’t do that.” Spencer smiled at Piper who beamed back. “I’m gonna go tell Hotch.” He kissed the top of her hair before rushing off.

“You look very happy today,” JJ smiled at Piper as she walked back in and she swallowed her mouthful.

“Did Penelope find the families?”

“A few but, they’re hard to track down.” JJ sat down where Spencer had been sitting moments ago. “What you said about social services, is that true?”

“It happens everywhere. No-one likes to admit they have a problem. It’s easier to just throw a blanket over the prostitution and drug deals happening under their noses.”

“And no-one notices?”

“More like no-one cares. Except this guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, something isn’t adding up. He has photos of ten people from when they were alive, but none of them are post-mortem. There’s no evidence that these people are dead, just that they’re missing. He claims he killed them, but he doesn’t injure a single person in the crash. Instead, he waits for them all to leave the post before smashing into it.”

“What if he did it for attention, like you said?”

“Wouldn’t you gain even more if killed 5 border agents? A man who could commit these crimes, he’s remorseless, no sense of guilt because he’s organised. Sociopathic people are much more organised and rational with their killings.” Piper pointed her pen at the man kneeling in the laptop screen. “That’s not him.” JJ snorted.

“All that from a car crash? All I figured was that he wanted attention.”

“He does. That’s why he asked for us, specifically.” Piper bumped JJ’s shoulder, noticing her furrowed brow. “What’s up?”

“Something Emily said when she called me. I already told Hotch this but, he was out there every night, taking their photographs, checking off their names in a notebook. Sounds like he really cares about them.”

“Then our first theory was right. He empathises with them, wants to protect them.” JJ nodded.

“He’s protecting them by bringing us in,” JJ continued Piper’s line of thought. “Hoping that we can find them.” Piper and JJ got up, almost running to see Rossi, Hotch and Spencer.

“You guys find anything?” Rossi asked and Piper relayed what they found out. Hotch’s cell buzzed and he listened to the update before turning back to William.

“William... People don't do what you did out of honour. They do it out of love. Who were you looking for on the streets every night?”

“I got home from Iraq. First thing my mother told me was that my baby sister Lee was on the streets. She asked me to find her.”

“But you couldn't?”

“I managed once. Brought her home. We got her fed. She even wore my dog tags... For good luck. Two weeks later, she slipped back onto the streets. That was it.”

“William, you've got so much information about the other potential victims. Why not Lee?”

“I hid it in a spare tire... In my car. I needed to wait until I was sure... That you were on board.” Spencer and Piper paired off to call Morgan and Garcia respectively. Penelope found it in a matter of minutes and Morgan managed to find the file and fax it over to Hotch as well as a voice-recorded message. Plugging it in, they listened to the last recorded message of Lee Hightower.

“Something bad is happening. It's dark. I don't know where he's taking me.”

“After that, the signal cuts out,” Hotch explained while Rossi helped JJ hand out lunch. “The same night she left her mom's house.”

“Hightower called in an army favour,” Rossi explained. “They triangulated the call to a cell tower in Canada just over the border in Port Huron. It explains why he crossed into your jurisdiction.”

“It's also a sure-fire way to get the FBI involved.” Hotch crossed his arms. “He knew we'd investigate an American citizen being held on multiple murder charges.”

“And you believe him?” Bedwell asked.

“I do.”

“Sir, I’ve got Garcia on line 2,” JJ announced and Hotch turned the answering machine on. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“Good news and bad news. I've got IDs on multiple border crosses for the dates in question. Trouble is, I've got hundreds, and as far as I can tell, if your license doesn't ping for any prior felonies, you're pretty much gonna pass go and collect 200 Canadian dollars.”

“She's right. Busiest cross in North America,” Bedwell explained. “Lot of commercial traffic, trucks mostly. Stop and searches would cause too many delays.”

“So, he's got virtually free passage,” Rossi surmised.

“And once he crosses, there's nothing but woods to hide whatever he's doing,” Piper said, rubbing her face with a hand. “That’s not even our biggest problem.”

“What do you mean?” Hotch asked.

“Well, we have no idea how he’s doing this. There’s no visible MO and we don’t know enough about the victims. People are just dropping off the map.” Hotch nodded at Piper who seemed weary, the bags around her eyes more noticeable.

“There is someone who knows all the victims. Well enough to have photographed and identified them,” Rossi pointed out to Bedwell.

“You’re talking about releasing William? No, I can’t allow that. They're not gonna let me turn William Hightower into a hero.”

“This unsub kills in 2- and 3-day cycles. Which means he's about to go back out there, hunting.”

“Release him into FBI custody while he's in Detroit,” Hotch proposed. “When the case is closed, he'll be back under your jurisdiction.”

“Your shop, your call,” Rossi finished.

“Well... They can fire me if they want,” Bedwell relented. The team had learnt to make the most of any break they got on these cases. JJ took her lunch outside to call Will and Henry while Spencer finished another book in the half-hour break. Hotch kept looking over the file in a separate office with Bedwell, discussing strategy.

“He never rests, does he?” Piper looked to Rossi as she twirled her fork through their stir fry.

“Does crime?” Piper snorted, staring at her lunch. “Alright, spill. What’s on your mind?”

“You have siblings?”

“Nup. Only child and thankful for it.” Piper smiled softly.

“I’ve got two. I’ve felt responsible for them my entire life and I always thought I was the only one, you know. I saw guys in high school completely ignoring their dork brothers or worse, bullying them. But then there’s him,” Piper reflected, pulling her hair back into a butterfly clip. “I’d tear the world apart to look for them. So, would he.” She snorted humourlessly before digging into her meal.

“You know, people like him are rare. They decide that their life is more than just about them and they sacrifice everything for the people they love.” Rossi smiled at her gently before finishing off his own lunch. Piper slurped down the rest of her soda and helped Rossi clean up. Hotch entered just as Piper finished wiping down the table.

“We’ve got an update. Get the team.” Piper dutifully went to grab Spencer and JJ. When they came back, Piper smiled to see Garcia on the screen in all her sunshine-y yellow glory.

“Isn’t that a cheerful face?” Piper smiled. “What do you have for us, sunshine?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely, I’ll tell you. I checked Detroit crime reports over the last month because Derek and Emily astutely thought there might be some sorts of assaults or disturbances having to do with our unsub.”

“And?”

“Well, it's tres weird, but on 5 of the abduction nights, Detroit PD reports a break-in or a robbery at some type of medical facility.”

“What types of medical facility?” Spencer asked.

“We got a hospital, blood bank, medical supply company, the red cross—”

“What’s he doing, stealing narcotics?” Rossi looked confused with a raised eyebrow.

“That's just it. He isn't some drugstore cowboy. The stuff he took is, like, anaesthesia and sterilizing equipment and syringes. Negative on the narcota.”

“Garcia, where were these places located?” Spencer pulled his map closer while Piper handed him a purple marker.

“Putnam street, St. Antoine, East Hancock, Martin Luther King Boulevard.”

“Those are all in the Cass Corridor,” Spencer noted. “Do you have a list of what else he stole?”

“Uh, IV tubing, infusion pump, units of o-negative blood, chest tubes, o-silk sutures, Elastoplast.”

“Garcia, thanks a lot.”

“Toodles! P.G. out.” Penelope blinked away.

“So, what’s he doing with all that equipment?” Piper asked Spencer.

“He could be performing experiments or surgeries on his victims.” His voice was hollow, and Piper’s face contorted with disgust. “The choice of items is extremely specific; he's got to have a medical background.”

The implications of an unsub with a medical background wasn’t lost on anyone and Hotch simply looked at Bedwell, telling him they were ready to deliver the profile.

The team stood separately in front of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, with Piper and Hotch sitting at the large table and Spencer standing behind her. Rossi and JJ stood on the other side of the table while Emily and Derek delivered the profile to Detroit PD over in Michigan.

“We believe the man we're looking for is a sexual sadist,” Hotch started. “What this means is that for him, the torture becomes a substitute for the sex act.” Spencer took over.

“The fact that he's stealing medical equipment like sterilizing agents and anaesthesia tells us he may be performing experiments or surgeries on his victims.”

“We believe this unsub gets gratification from his ability to keep his victims alive in order to endure more torture,” Piper continued. “The choice of items stolen is extremely specific, which makes us believe he's got a medical background.”

“Now, we know what you're thinking-- a profile is fine, but, yes, our best shot at stopping this guy is still to catch him in the act. This unsub is extremely smart and obviously organized. He's managed to abduct very different victims with very different abilities, all with no witnesses.”

“Now, we're coordinating with the police and our agents on the ground in Detroit,” Hotch informed them.

“We've also asked Sergeant Hightower to act as a guide on the streets in Detroit while he's in our custody,” Rossi concluded.

“That's it. Any questions, you find me or one of the agents.” While the officers dispersed, William and Hotch left for the SUV to head back to Detroit. The others opted to stay behind to take care of complications in Canada.

“We know he's about to abduct someone again,” Rossi announced as Piper handed him and Spencer cups of coffee. “We know he sticks to a tight cycle. The question is, why alternate victims in clusters of men and women?

“Why take the men at all?” JJ asked as she gratefully accepted the cup.

“What do you mean?” Piper asked.

“We said he sees these people as disposable. It doesn't matter if they're male or female.”

“For a sexual sadist, male or female isn't important. The torture itself is the sex.”

“But wouldn't it be much easier to approach a prostitute?”

“She's right,” Piper nodded. “A prostitute will get into a car with an unsub. Much easier to isolate her and no witness would question it either. It’s the males that are hard to coax into a car.”

“We need to figure out how he's separating his male victims from the pack,” Rossi murmured. “Is Mrs Hightower still here?”

“Resting in my office.”

“JJ and Piper, you two talk to her; we need to know everything about Lee Hightower.” They nodded and walked over to her office. This was almost second nature to Piper, sitting in an armchair with a cup of coffee and Mrs Hightower sitting in front of her. All that was missing was a notebook and pen. JJ sat next to the woman, a comforting hand wrapping hers.

“Lee disappeared, I begged William to find her, but it wasn't fair to him.”

“I'm sure he wanted to find her as much as you did,” JJ said softly.

“Ma’am, what happened after he came back from Iraq?” Piper lay the question in front of her gently.

“He'd just gotten home,” she mourned. “He lost his leg, and he was going to physical therapy. He hadn't even processed what happened to him yet. But he found her. First time. She came home for 2 weeks and I had her going to meetings. I even got her onto welfare.”

“So, what happened?” JJ asked.

“The day after the first check came, she disappeared.”

“Wait, what was that date?” JJ asked.

“The 2nd?” JJ nodded to Piper and she left to update Rossi while JJ stayed behind, consoling Mrs Hightower.

“Lee Hightower was abducted on the 2nd, the day after she cashed a welfare check.” Her voice was clear, succinct and rapid. She’s panicking, Spencer noted as she tried to even out her heavy breaths.

“So?” Rossi looked up as Piper leaned over the desk for the marker before scribbling the abduction dates on the board.

“Look at the dates of the other abductions. All the men are abducted around the first and the 15th of the month. When welfare checks are issued. I’m an idiot,” she murmured, cursing herself for not seeing it sooner.

“Piper, what do you mean?”

“What if he's not intentionally clustering the male and female victims? What if this is how he best isolates his victims?”

“You think he has a way to get them alone based on how they cash their checks?” Rossi asked.

“And then the rest of the month he resorts to picking up prostitutes,” Piper finished.

“It would explain the pattern,” Spencer supplied.

“We need to find out where these men cash their checks,” Rossi said as Spencer dialled Morgan.

“We don't have last names. There's no way to find them,” Bedwell contradicted.

“Don’t underestimate our tech analyst,” Rossi warned as he dialled her. “Garcia. I need you to find out if Lee Hightower ever cashed a welfare check.”

“Okay. I'm typing my fastest…Ha! Greyburn Lodge, 43608 Third Street. Lee Hightower cashed her check there on the 2nd.”

“Morgan’s on his way there,” Spencer updated. Piper capped and uncapped her marker in worry as Spencer thanked Morgan before addressing the team. “There’s been a new victim, Kelly Shane. Abducted in a dark American sedan.” Bedwell practically leaped out of his seat to get his officers on the search. The rest of the team scrambled to get to work, but even after an hour had passed, they heard nothing. Piper slumped in her seat next to Spencer.

“They should have tried to make the cross at least an hour ago,” Spencer thought aloud as Rossi walked back in.

“Any word from the off-road sites?”

“There are agents at every known drug smuggling entry. Nothing.”

“This unsub's smart. Everything about his plan is well researched. I think his border crossings would be consistent.” Rossi turned to Bedwell. “Are there former shipping lanes somebody could have studied in advance?”

“Nothing marked. Hunters might know the terrain, but it's word of mouth. Nothing documented.”

“The exhibition,” Piper murmured.

“Pipes, I don’t think—”

“No, the exhibition I told you about on the jet— did we check the underground railway?”

“What?” Rossi looked between Spencer and Bedwell, but they looked equally confused.

“Harriet Tubman, American hero, badass black woman who freed slaves during the— never mind. In the civil war, Detroit was the last stop for a slave before they escaped to freedom in Canada. They made the crossing in this area.” She jabbed at the woods right next to the crossing.

“She's right. But there aren't any historical landmarks that register the crossing points,” Spencer added.

“They didn’t have them in the civil war either,” Piper explained. “They built a series of Victorian homes along the river to signify safe passage. Some of those homes still exist.”

“Lee Hightower’s cell phone registered at a tower near Port Huron,” Rossi remembered. “He had to be close by when he crossed the border.” Piper grabbed her cell, dialling Penelope.

“Garcia, I need you to cross-reference Civil War maps with Victorian homes that still exist in the Port Huron area.”

“Give me a minute and… done. 3 miles south of the Blue Water Bridge. Sending you a GPS map right…now.”

“Garcia, you gorgeous human bean, I love you.” Piper slipped her phone into her pocket. “We need to go, now. Blue Water Bridge.”

“That’s not more than a few miles from here.” He turned but then faltered. “JJ said someone needed a bike. Didn’t know you rode, Dave.”

“He doesn’t. That would be me.” Piper raised her hand, her mouth drawing into a line as Spencer snickered next to her. Bedwell blushed, tossing her a helmet and keys. “Thanks.”

As they rushed their way down, Bedwell tried to make amends. “What do you ride?”

“Yamaha R1, black.” She grinned at the dumbstruck officer-in-charge as she strapped on her helmet over her Bluetooth. “Garcia, I’m gonna need directions. You ready?” In the SUV, Spencer updated Hotch on the newest location and that they’d meet Piper there in about 10 minutes while they’d supervise the border cross. Piper skidded to a stop next to the grass and heard an SUV roll up behind her as she unstrapped her helmet.

“Garcia’s sure this is the spot?” Emily approached Piper, wading through long grass.

“The house is inland.” Piper pointed across the river. “Access from the water would be here.”

“There's nothing here,” Emily motioned to the dark expanse in front of them.

“Really? Hadn’t noticed,” Piper scoffed as Hotch and William came back outside.

“I’d have stashed the car somewhere,” Hotch thought aloud as he examined their surroundings. “We’ll split up,” he directed, passing Piper an extra torch. Piper and Emily took the west while Hotch and William took the east. Emily shone her torch at large brambles of vegetation and called the boys over. They ducked underneath as Hotch and William approached. “License plate is missing. He probably stashed cars on both sides of the river.” Hotch dialled Garcia, asking her to track down a VIN number while letting Emily read the number out to her.

“Your sick bastard of the week is… a Mr Mason Turner. Age 39, went to undergrad in Toronto, graduated second in his class from Michigan Medical Institute 2000, went on to work for a public health organization in Detroit. I also have an address. Looks like a farm. Sending it…now.”

“Alright, good work Garcia.” Hotch motioned for Piper to update the others and she dialled Spencer, walking away from the brambled bushes.

“Hey, you okay?” Piper’s heart melted at the concern filtering through the receiver.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We found his car and an address that Hotch is sending to Rossi as we speak.”

“Okay. Pipes, are you sure you’re okay?”

“Spence, we talked about this. Not at work. I’ll see you soon. Be safe...and I’m okay. I’m the king of okay.”

“That’s a rubbish title. Be safe.” The line clicked and Piper pocketed the phone, smiling slightly.

“They’ll be here in 10,” she announced. “We should get moving.”

“Emily, go with Piper,” Hotch directed. “I want the two of you there first just in case.” They set off after Hotch threw them FBI vests and mics, Piper and Emily arriving first on the scene. Emily helped Piper with her vest while she tied her hair up and popped the mic into her ear. Emily unhooked her leg from the bike first, Piper following, as they both unholstered their guns. Two dark SUVs pulled up behind them, the rest of their team filing out.

“Strategy?” Piper called out to Hotch. He directed Bishop, Prentiss, Rossi and Bedwell to take the exterior while Reid, Morgan and Hotch took the house. While the others skirted around the house silently, the three agents slowly entered the house, guns at the ready. Hotch, Reid and Morgan filed into the house slowly, hearing slow, laboured breathing from inside. Prentiss and Piper barged into the barn, the sight filling unease into their nerves.

“Piper,” Emily called out, pointing her torch and bottles of clear and blue liquid.

“Must be all the medical equipment he stole.”

“We’re in the right place.” But their grim smiles dropped, and Piper felt like her stomach was doing backflips at the sight of spilt blood all over the table.

Meanwhile, the others slowly climbed up the creaky steps into the other room, laying their eyes on the source of the laboured breathing. Spencer’s eyes fell on the pale man in the bed, wrapped in a medical gown, tubes protruding from every cavity and a breathing apparatus strapped to his mouth.

“This is our unsub?”

to be continued...

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neuroticphysiologist · 4 years

Text

Detection

For Sensory Sunday - Smell @gumnut-logic

There's three things that came to me: Virgil, firefighting, and Pup Pup and Away. And so I made this fic.

One of the hardest for me too. I apologize.

Note about the boys' ages:

Scott - 13

Virgil - 11

Apart from being the heavy lifter and pilot of Thunderbird 2, Virgil is also a firefighter. He created and modified advanced gadgets on putting out fires like suppression grenades and low frequency suppression system, of course with the help from Brains. He can easily detect small gas leaks. Some may not find it obvious, but according to him, one small gas leak may lead to danger, unless someone fixes it. He was inspired by his idol and expert firefighter Kip Harris, who found interesting ways to put out fires. May be a bit old-fashioned but still helpful. He's one of the reasons why Virgil got his interest in firefighting.

Another reason is from a small instance he remembered a long time ago.

His Dad took him and Scott to a hot air balloon festival near their state. That is one of those moments that got their interest in taking to the skies. They rode on a hot air balloon and had a great view of the event.

Scott showed Virgil something new about the event. A proud pilot named Maurice was about to ride on a new hot air balloon that he built all by himself. The propane tanks were attached outside the woven wicker basket. Its envelope is shaped like a big round blimp with a fancy design, mixing random colors. Virgil couldn't quite remember what else the pilot added. Now Maurice is busy having a photo op with his solo project.

The two brothers ran to the front part near the platform to witness the launch.

It's interesting to see how the new balloon goes, but Virgil suspects something about the balloon when the pilot hopped in and turned on the heat. He can smell a small leak from the tanks. Maurice didn't even bother check it out. Oh no, this may be bad.

The balloon was about a thousand feet off the ground and climbing.

Why doesn't he notice the leak? It's about to get worse. I can smell it from here!

"Scott?"

"What's up, Virgil?"

"I think his first flight with that balloon is going to be bad."

"Why do you say that?"

"Can you smell it?"

"Smell what?"

"Gas leak. You notice?"

Scott sniffed. "Not so much. That hotdog stand right over there kinda distracted me though. How can you tell?"

"Let's go a little farther."

They moved to the far side of the platform.

"I can smell it from here too."

Scott sniffed again. "You're right."

"This is bad, Scott. He should check it out."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"What?"

"He's a bit of a showoff, I can tell. He's busy having his pictures taken than being concerned about his flight safety."

"I agree with you, bro."

Maurice fired up the burner then suddenly, the balloon wasn't flying right.

Virgil approached to the other pilot on stage named Jimmy, who was entertained by kids who were asking questions about hot air balloons. Then he approached to Virgil. "You have a question, kid?"

"Sir, there's something wrong with the balloon.

And I smell a gas leak before the pilot flew."

"I know, but Maurice is not responding. I'll call him again," Jimmy opened his communicator. "Maurice, check your tanks."

"It's probably just the wind, Jimmy."

"I mean it! You're not flying straight."

That was the only time Maurice checked the tanks, the valves, and the burners. And then he gasped.

"No, no, it can't be! I checked that! Oh no, my balloon's about to blow! A little help? Please?"

Jimmy sighed. "I knew I shouldn't have let him fly that balloon all by himself. Thank you, kid."

"You're welcome," Virgil said.

Then Jimmy called for an emergency plane to rescue his friend.

Jeff found Scott in the new balloon launching event. "There you are, Scott."

"Dad, that new balloon's in trouble!"

"I saw it. Where's Virgil?"

"On the platform."

He found Virgil and told him to come near. Virgil explained about the condition of the balloon. He, Scott, and their father approached to Jimmy to help assess the situation.

The hot air balloon was about to hit a mountain. Just in time, an emergency plane rushed to the rescue. The rescuer caught Maurice and he made it. The new balloon has set its crash course. Well, there goes the brand new hot air balloon.

When the news was shared, the audience cheered for the rescuer who saved the hot air balloon pilot.

Jeff and Scott discovered one fact about Virgil. He was able to detect a gas leak, no matter how small it was.

"Virgil?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"You did a great job today, son."

"Thanks," Virgil smiled.

#the blimp thing got me thinking about the doofenshmirtz evil inc blimp #i didn't make it as a capsule i apologize #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #scott tracy #sensorysunday2020 #sensorysunday #neurotic phys tag

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rainbowcolored7 · 2 years

Text

TAG NINE PEOPLE YOU WANT TO GET TO KNOW BETTER

Tagged by @evil-moonlight Thanks doll!

I think I've been tagged by a few others for this and I'm sorry I never got around to it! I'm going to be going through and trying to respond to the ones I've missed, but if anyone wants to tag me again feel free!

Favorite Color: Cerulean blue, baby/hot pink and bright yellow has been growing on my for a while now.

Currently reading: Uh, well, I think the last actual book I picked up was the first in the Shadow & Bone series, but as I usually do with books I got distracted by fic and fandom things. I have been meaning to go back and reread (and finish reading) all of Cherie Priest's novels, but they're all packed away in boxes in my storage unit unfortunately. If you're into zombies, supernatural themes, and steampunk I HIGHLY recommend reading her stuff because it's fucking amazing.

Fanfiction wise I'm making my way through @godotismissingx -Bedroom Hymns series for like the fourth time - https://archiveofourown.org/series/2475169

@kinnsporsche True North https://archiveofourown.org/works/39011805/chapters/97582617

And of course anxiously waiting every day for updates on @yeetlegay Fake Love and Hennessy https://archiveofourown.org/works/39083298/chapters/97769772 and @luckydragon10 A King's Tree https://archiveofourown.org/works/39298218/chapters/98339034

(I just spent an hour fighting tumblr to get the coding to work to do click through links and it still isn't working idk so sorry about that...)

Last song: Well, this is difficult to answer because I'm currently listening to music so I'll just name the few songs I've been listening to obsessively for the past week etc. Hindi Sad Diamonds - John Leguizamo, Nicole Kidman & Alka Yagnik from Moulin Rouge (yes this is entirely Tong's fault from the world tour, thank you sir), Always Remember Us This Way - Lady Gaga (it's kimchay and it hurts and I love the pain), Small Doses - Bebe Rexha (ofc a kp video turned me onto this one), Smother Me - Kelaska and OF COURSE Why Don't You Stay by Jeff Satur because, I mean, come on.

Last Series: Working my way through a 3rd/2nd and a half rewatch of The Devil Judge (I never finished my second rewatch), um, KinnPorsche of course, that one is just a constant. Also watching My Liberation Notes, but I had to to take a break because every single character in that show is so damn depressed and human that it really brings me down to the dirt and I was getting a bit too sad. When I can finally tear myself away from all my wips I'm really looking forward to watching the newest season of Virgin River (yeah, I know, don't look at me like that. It's sweet and wholesome and corny and hetero but it's yummy okay).

Last movie: Went and saw Thor Love and Thunder with the fam sunday evening. It was predictable, very marvel (derogatory), but I laughed a lot and it was a fun watch. Oh, and I watched Moana again last night as well because I heard Jeff Satur's cover of How Far I'll Go and promptly cried and lost my entire mind. Go ruin your life and listen to it right now. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ex_NRs9VyNw

Currently working on: Oh gawd please don't make me say it... several vid edits on the backburner, peteporsche fic, lawyer!kinn assistant!porsche fic request by @moerusai , kp fantasy royal au, the haunting of Theerapanyakul house (a haunting of hill house vegaspete au) for the lovely @liyazaki , another armpol fic, the kp greaser!era fic and Vegas character study I may or may not be giving up on 'cause the sparks just aren't hitting right, AND several pieces of artwork. *cries in not enough time*

No pressure tags - Everyone I mentioned above! As well as @acacia-luna-royal @ahdriking @omarandjohnny @mematryoshkame @minisculecosmos @suga4mycoffee

Pretty sure that's more than nine but I cannot count. ❤️

#personal #my stuff #tagged meme #aannddd the coding issues and my lack of answering shortly is why i have a hard time doing these lol #sorry guys!#kinnporsche

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aswithasunbeam · 4 years

Link

Rated: General Audiences

Summary: After seeing Hamilton struggle to get his financial plan through Congress while Washington was ill with pneumonia, Washington forms a plan. AKA The infamous fishing trip

June 1790

“Perhaps we should consider going without Mr. Hamilton?” Jefferson suggested. “I’d hate to miss much more of this fine spring day if he’s found himself otherwise occupied.”

Washington turned, raising a hand to shield his eyes against the brilliant sunshine reflecting off the water. “He’ll be along.”

Jefferson sighed and gave his pocket watch a significant look.

“Huzzah!” a man shouted, hanging out the window of a passing carriage and waving his hat in Washington’s direction. “Long live Washington!”

Washington nodded in acknowledgement, as he had to all the other passersby who’d cheered his return to the land of the living. He returned his attention to the street beyond, clearing his throat roughly. His chest still ached with the remnants of the pneumonia that had laid him low for the past month. Even the short stroll from the carriage to the dock had left him winded. The warm sunshine and fresh sea air were doing him good, though; he could feel strength returning to his limbs as he balanced his weight, watching for Hamilton’s arrival.

When he’d first considered a fishing trip to get some quality outdoor time without overly exerting himself, he’d issued an invitation first to Philip Schuyler. A calm, pleasant sail with an old friend had seemed just the thing to get him back on his feet. Schuyler had smiled, but after considering a long moment, recommended, “My dear son-in-law could better use a day away from the press of business, I think. Might he come along?”

Indeed, when Hamilton had arrived for a visit, he’d looked exhausted, dark rings around his eyes and an unusual stoop to his shoulders. With no precedent to govern to whom the President’s duties fell when he was too ill to carry out his duties, the brunt of the daily functions of the executive had fallen to Hamilton. On top of that, Hamilton had been campaigning day and night for passage of his credit plan. All in all, the boy had looked worse than Washington; and, considering that two of his three physicians had opined that Washington wouldn’t live out the month, that was saying something.

“I don’t understand how Congress can be so stubborn and willfully ignorant,” Hamilton had complained when he’d settled into the chair beside Washington, swigging down a shot of brandy and shuddering slightly at the resulting burn. “Rebuilding American credit requires we have American credit, not fourteen separate debts all leveraged to varying degrees of dizzying excess. Why don’t they understand that?”

“Voting for the federal government to assume all the states’ debts won’t be popular in the southern states that have already paid down their own.”

“One state’s credit means nothing if the others are teetering on bankruptcy.”

Washington had refilled Hamilton’s drink and held up a placating hand. “I know that. And so does Mr. Madison. But that doesn’t stop him being beholden to his constituents.”

“He shouldn’t be beholden to their wrong-headed opinions. He should be leading them, helping them understand why this is the correct course of action. Otherwise, what even is the point of electing leaders to develop specialized knowledge of these subjects? Why don’t we just descend into anarchy now and be done with it!”

“It’s not so bad as all that,” he’d said.

Hamilton had slumped in his chair, defeat dragging down his shoulders and hollowing his eyes. “I’m going to lose the vote. I don’t know what else to do.”

The pang in Washington’s chest at the sight had little to do with his illness. He’d leaned forward to squeeze Hamilton’s shoulder once, consolingly. “We’ll figure something out.”

He’d been gratified to see that a little flicker of hope had sparked in Hamilton’s face at the assurance.

The plan had unfolded from there.

A hired coach pulled to a stop at the entrance to the docks, the passenger door opening almost before the horses had fully halted.

“Here he is now,” Washington said, catching a glimpse of the green silk coat Hamilton favored in warm weather.

Jefferson muttered under his breath, “Finally.”

“My apologies,” Hamilton called as he rushed down the dock. “I had a meeting with some Congressmen this morning, and it ran a bit longer than I’d intended.”

“Was it productive?” Washington inquired.

“What?” Hamilton asked, slowing his pace as he approached, winded and not a little flustered.

“The meeting?” Washington clarified.

“Oh. No.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he reached out to clap Hamilton on the back.

He saw surprise play across Hamilton’s features as he noted Jefferson’s presence behind him. A charming smile quickly took its place, though, and Hamilton bowed genially. “Mr. Jefferson, I didn’t know you’d be joining us.”

“I was happy to answer the President’s invitation. I’ve always quite enjoying fishing. And I couldn’t turn down a chance to enjoy the water one such a fine day.”

“I confess I’m rather a hopeless fisherman,” Hamilton said, stepping over the side of the fishing boat with care. “But the weather certainly is fine.”

With the three of them boarded, the boat was unmoored and slowly made its way out to sea. Washington stood beside Hamilton, studying his bruised eyelids with a frown. “You know, I had rather hoped that you had slept in this morning.”

Hamilton gave an amused chuckle. “Alas, no, sir. My habit of sleeping late into the morning was long since drilled out of me.”

“A pity,” Washington replied sincerely; he looked like he could have used a good lie in.

“You think so? It was mostly your doing.”

“Mine?”

“Or Harrison’s doing at your behest.” Washington smiled at the memory as Hamilton turned to Jefferson, attempting to include him in the joke. “Colonel Harrison enjoyed ripping me out of my cot by the ankle whenever the opportunity presented itself. I woke to my rump hitting the floor many a morning. I had terrible bruises the first several months of my work as the General’s aide.”

“Really? I would have imagined rising punctually was an important part of being on his Excellency’s staff,” Jefferson said mildly, folding himself into a seat by the rail.

“Oh, Hamilton never had a problem waking punctually. He just enjoyed making Colonel Harrison’s life difficult. McHenry, too, for that matter. I heard an abundance of fake snoring coming from the aide’s quarters of a morning in those years.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny,” Hamilton replied, grinning from ear to ear. Washington could see a hint of melancholy behind his eyes, though, Harrison’s recent passing rendering the memories bittersweet.

Expression softening, Hamilton continued, “And even had you not forced me to be an early riser, my children certainly would have managed. Three of them were awake at four this morning, practically bouncing off the ceiling with energy. It’s hard to sleep with three little demons jumping on the bed.”

Washington chuckled. “Washy has a penchant for waking his grandmother in a similar fashion.”

“I suppose you no longer need to worry about that, Mr. Jefferson,” Hamilton said. “I envy you your grown children.”

“No, indeed. At least, not until the grandchildren arrive. You know my Patsy was just married?”

The trip was off to a better start than Washington had initially imagined. Of course, Hamilton had always had an easy way about him when politics weren’t involved; he was charming, with a sunny disposition that made him hard to dislike in person. He tipped his head back, soaking in the sun as the conversation rolled over him, Hamilton doing most of the heavy lifting.

“Should we prepare the fishing poles?” Jefferson asked eventually. “We should be nearing Sandy Hook soon.”

“I’ll defer to your good judgment, Mr. Jefferson,” Hamilton said, standing up presumably to fetch the poles. The boat rocked on a wave as he stood, and he reached out hurriedly to brace himself on the rail.

“Are you all right?” Washington asked.

“Fine,” he said, still holding the rail as he moved forward. “I’m not overly fond of boats.”

As Hamilton disappeared below deck, Jefferson asked, “We’re not disturbing you too much, I hope, Mr. President? I know you’re still trying to rest and recover.” His eyes flickered towards Hamilton’s path as he spoke, making clear that by “we” he’d meant “Hamilton.”

“Not at all. I enjoy Mr. Hamilton’s conversation.”

“He’s very charming,” Jefferson agreed. “I can see why Mrs. Church spoke of him so agreeably. I certainly don’t have to worry about carrying the conversation.”

“No. That’s rarely a concern when Alex is involved.”

“Talking about me?” Hamilton called, making his way back to them with three tackle boxes balanced precariously in his hands.

“Mr. Jefferson was remarking that you’re a very good conversationalist,” Washington said.

“You mean I talk too much.” Before Jefferson could interject with an assurance to the contrary, Hamilton gave a self-deprecating smile. “Sorry. Old habit. Tends to happen when I’ve too much on my mind. Feel free to tell me to be quiet.”

“I didn’t mean that at all,” Jefferson said, though Washington felt confident that Hamilton had cut straight through to the heart of Jefferson’s complaint.

“Well, the offer stands.”

As Washington accepted his tackle box with a nod of thanks, he suggested, “Why don’t you share with Mr. Jefferson what’s been weighing on your mind these past weeks?”

“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Jefferson doesn’t want to hear me blathering on about assumption,” Hamilton demurred.

Jefferson shifted as he assembled his own pole. “In fact, I feel a little at a loss on the matter. Having only just taken up my position, it seems I’ve missed some of the finer points of the debate. It would be enlightening to hear your thoughts on the topic, Mr. Hamilton.”

Washington didn’t doubt for a moment that Jefferson was up to speed on every point of the debate; the capital had been abuzz with talk of little else since his return. A good strategy, though, to claim ignorance of the matter. It meant Hamilton would talk and Jefferson wouldn’t be required to supply his own point of view.

“If you insist, sir. But remember you’ve brought it on yourself,” Hamilton teased.

They were floating idly by Sandy Hook when Jefferson said, “The assumption of the all the war debt would surely be a staggering sum. How long, in your estimation, would it take for the government to pay it all back?”

“That’s rather beside the point.”

Jefferson blinked. “Beside the point?”

“Yes. We need to show other countries that we can use credit responsibly. We’ll need to increase the efficiency of our revenue collection to ensure timely payments, of course, but the goal is not to discharge the debt.”

“How can that be?”

“To show creditors one is responsible, one must use credit responsibly. That means continuing to borrow and make payments. Its basic finance.”

Jefferson’s lips had thinned into a long, displeased line. “You say you’re going to increase the efficiency of our revenue collection. How?”

“Building new lighthouses, refurbishing those already in existence, establishing a coast guard,” Hamilton ticked each item on his fingers as he spoke, his fishing pole having long since been set down on the deck of the boat so that he could speak with his hands. “We need to ensure smugglers are stopped, and good trading partners can get to port safely.”

“And this will be enough to discharge…I’m sorry, pay down the debt?”

“That, and some minor tax increases.”

“Tax increases.”

“Yes.”

“Did we not just fight a war against tax increases?”

“That wasn’t why we fought a war.”

“Funny. I remember it being quite a heated topic of conversation.”

“We fought a war because those tax increases were being forced upon us by Parliament, a body to which we as colonists had no representation. An American Congress, full of representatives of the American people, is perfectly at liberty to raise taxes if they deem it necessary.”

Jefferson’s eyes widened. “You want to force hard working people, many of whom have already done their part to pay down their own state’s debt, to pay more in taxes to a central government, to pay down a massive debt, in perpetuity. Am I understanding you correctly?”

“Our debt was incurred as a nation. It should be paid off as a nation. The debt will exist whatever we choose to do with it. This way, at least, we’ll start our nation off on a strong financial footing.”

“Have you ever spoken to a small Virginian farmer, Mr. Hamilton? Have you ever even been to Virginia?”

“Only the once.” Hamilton gaze had turned steely, his posture straightening. “And I must admit I didn’t have much time to talk to farmers while I was fighting to help force Cornwallis’s surrender.”

“Well,” Jefferson said, clearing his throat uncomfortably.

“I think this conversation may be growing a little heated for such a fine spring day as this,” Washington interjected.

“You’re right, sir. My apologies,” Hamilton said quickly.

“And mine, Mr. President,” Jefferson added. “Let’s leave politics for a more appropriate time and enjoy our sport.”

Tentative truce struck, they enjoyed the good weather and caught several blackfish and bass each. The topic rested until their shared coach pulled up in front of Washington’s Cherry Street house that evening. Hamilton leaned to look through the window as the horses pulled to a stop, and asked, “Is that my wife?”

Washington craned is head to look past him and saw that Eliza had indeed stepped out behind Martha. “It seems our wives have been plotting in our absence,” he noted lightly.

Hamilton alighted quickly from the coach and hurried towards the two ladies, arms outstretched. Eliza, he noticed fondly, looked as thrilled to see her husband as if he’d been gone on a months long journey. As they embraced, Hamilton swung her off her feet to spin her around.

“Mr. President,” Jefferson said, catching his attention before he could follow Hamilton’s path towards the house. “How…how can you, as a Virginian, support Mr. Hamilton’s plan?”

Washington sat back against his seat, considering the man before him. “I do not support it as a Virginian.” Jefferson’s brow rose hopefully. “I support it as an American. But of course, it is for Congress to say whether it will be adopted into law.”

“It’s not only his financial plan that causes me unease, sir. I can’t say I know Mr. Hamilton well, but I have seen some worrying tendencies since you fell ill. He was far to enthusiastic in assuming the mantle of authority. That he’s ambitious is easy to see, and that combined with being admittedly charming, handsome, young, and a war hero besides…well, I worry that he is exactly the sort of man who could undo a republic.”

“Have a care, Mr. Jefferson,” Washington said sharply. “Mr. Hamilton’s talent and ambition has done nothing but aid this country thus far, and I have no doubt that he will continue to use his abilities in America’s best interest.”

Jefferson sighed, inclining his head. “If you say so, sir. As I said, I don’t know the gentleman well.”

Washington softened. “I do believe he’s acting in our collective best interest, but I think there’s room to, shall we say, soften the blow for our southern brethren.”

Jefferson’s head tilted to the side, considering.

“Do we understand each other?”

“I think we do.”

Washington nodded, and stepped down from the coach. Martha hurried to greet him.

“You’re looking a world better, my dearest,” she said, scrutinizing his face. “The sunshine did you good.”

“It did,” he agreed.

Eliza was still hugging Hamilton on the stoop. She pulled back slightly to ask, “How did your conversation with Mr. Jefferson go?”

Hamilton craned around to look at Washington, and Washington gave him a meaningful nod.

A mischievous look lit Hamilton’s face as he confided to his wife, “Exactly according to plan, I’d say.”

Eliza laughed when Hamilton spun her around once again.

#hamilton fanfic #alexander hamilton #george washington #thomas jefferson #eliza hamilton #martha washington #the fishing trip

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lordsicheng · 5 years

Text

Anonymous: Pt. 1

c: Jung Jaehyun, oc, others

g: mystery, romance, slight thrill (?)

s: a freelance writer slash igconito internet sensation, Jaehyun dives into making anonymous love letters midway his career– only to make one that could turn him into someone he doesn’t think he is

w: 2k~

a/n: in the middle of writing this I think I could say this is slightly inspired by the Netflix show “You”, which I totally am obsessed with omg but I made sure the writings I made of this are not plagiarism to the original plot! I also am a little bit late because I was gonna post this on his birthday but meh :/ this serves as a bit of a comeback from me on writing (I wrote this in two hours oops) so yeah enjoy!!

It was just another day for him as like the others. He wasn’t expecting anything special in particular, but he ends up getting a different order than usual at one of his favorite breakfast places only a block from his home. He looked at the other people inside the restaurant, no reaction in particular by the fact that majority of them inside came as couples, some as quads, and a few as close-knit families. He didn’t seem be fazed by the fact that he was the only one that was alone on a table.

In fact, he felt more comfortable that he didn’t have any company with him.

“Here you go sir; three layer pancakes with cranberry syrup and blueberry bits, less butter, and tall broad Arabica coffee.” the waitress smiles warmly as she served him his order, looking at him as his eyes feasted on the meal set in front of him

“Thank you. Compliments to your cook.” he smiled politely to the waitress as he looked up

“You come here quite often and order the same thing. I was surprised you ordered something different—a mix of sweet and slight bitterness thanks to the beverage.” she commented

“Today’s a special day.” he grinned, slowly putting on a napkin and grabbing the utensils from the side

“Oh, right. Valentine’s. Perhaps you were able to score a date today, no?” she teased, almost as if she was flirting but also slightly discouraged if it were true

“Well, everyday should be Valentine’s day. Love should be given in any form anyone could.” he paused, sighing slightly before looking up at the already confused waitress, smiling yet again before continuing

“It’s my birthday.”

To Jaehyun, his birthday was just like any other day—living alone in one of the most populated cities in the world whilst being a freelance writer was what he always wanted. He wasn’t particular about his future and to his luck, his parents let him choose his own path. Although he was given a chance to travel many times during his youth, he felt at home whenever he was in his hometown. In fact, he chose to stay instead of grabbing the opportunity of studying in one of the most prestigious universities in America.

Eyes fixed to his laptop screen, he scrolled through the rush of emails he had received from his boss and fans of his freelance writing. He was hesitant on opening some, who just wanted to either greet him or ask for a commission.

“Thank you, but inspiration is hard to catch nowadays.” he said to himself as he read through a letter of a man asking for a commission for a write-up

And of the many writings he had made, he chose to have a different pen name or even went on anonymous. His talent involved being igconito in many other forums whilst giving advice about romance, often using his common pen name, “Jeff Valentine.”

His phone suddenly rang and he looked at the screen before grumbling, rolling his eyes as he just decided to answer it without any hesitation.

“Yes?”

“Jaehyun, hey, I need your help.”

The frantic voice from the call didn’t particularly daunt him but rather amused him as he knew this particular person would only call him on his birthday for one reason

“Mark, I told you I didn’t want a party for my birthday.” he chuckled

“W-who says we were throwing you a party?” Mark, a close friend of his, stuttered slightly

“I don’t know, maybe your Instagram story about a Valentine-themed party with a huge photo of me at the back that you forgot to filter for other people to see except, well, me?” Jaehyun spoke sarcastically, already feeling Mark’s nervousness about the surprised being messed up thanks to him

“Shit.” Mark cursed, internally slapping himself as he let out a sigh

“Look, I appreciate that a lot. But I really am not interested in parties.”

“Dude, just once, I swear! We really tried to make the best surprise but I really blew it… If you can’t go I swear they’re gonna find out I messed up again like last year!” Mark pleaded

“Mark, you sent the texts to all of your friends about the surprise party. And that obviously included me.” Jaehyun stood up from his seat, walking around his room

“Please? Just act surprised at least since you know I slip up a lot.”

Jaehyun thought for a while and decided, that even though he really wanted to be alone on his special day, he chose to just celebrate it with friends since he knew the others were just as ‘lonely’ as him during Valentine’s day

“Fine.”

“Great! Really means a lot man. There’s gonna be great food, great ambiance, I invited some girls—“

“Whoa, wait. Girls?” Jaehyun furrowed his brows, cutting Mark off

“I mean… don’t you think it’s time, man? Last time you dated someone you completely cut them off and they ended up dating someone who looked just like you.” Mark reasoned

“I’m not interested in dating, Mark. I don’t even know where you’re getting all these girls?”

“Thanks to me and some connections, we’ve got a couple coming over. Let’s see if one of them hits the jackpot—aka, you, Mr. Valentine.” Mark laughed as he sat on his sofa, Jaehyun feeling a little bit iffy about his plan

“I’m only going for the food. Text me the address and time, I have to do some work and run errands.” Jaehyun grumbled yet again, sitting back on his computer chair

“Errands? It’s your birthday, though?”

“Errands as in shopping, my friend. Now, text me the details and I’ll catch you guys tonight.” Jaehyun dropped the call without even hearing Mark’s last words, putting his phone next to his laptop as he leaned back and let out a sigh of exasperation

He looked to the side and noticed the sun was slightly showing, though it was the middle of winter in transition to spring. He thought that maybe if he took a couple of hours for a walk he’d be more inspired to do anything on his birthday. He immediately grabbed a coat and hurried out his apartment towards the nearby park that was near the river

“Winter, winter. Looking at all these couples make me slightly bitter.” he thought to himself the moment he realized a lot of the people around the area were couples

However, to his luck, he saw someone by the benches sitting alone whilst holding a romance book. To him, this was probably typical for most singles—reading an idealistic novel as they fantasize about their fairytale romance waiting to happen even up until they reach 50. He just shrugged and continued on his way, until he saw that particular person stand up and walk rather in a fast pace towards the other side of the park. As much as he wasn’t interested in their own business, he slowly decided to follow suit as he thought it was probably just some nasty breakup about to happen

To his dismay, he realized he was brought back to his apartment building—even worse, on the same level of his own place.

“No way.” he mumbled, standing by the stairs that was far enough from where the person had stood

With a few hard and loud knocks on the door, it swung open and he saw a man, probably around his age, dragging around three luggage bags as if he were to fly off to another country of some sorts

“Great, now you’re just gonna leave?”

“I have no choice, y/n! You’re having too many idealized expectations of me and I’m getting sick of it.”

“Sure, leave! Valentine’s is all about being left alone.”

“Who gives a fuck about Valentine’s, y/n? It’s always Valentine’s in your head!”

Sheesh, talk about a nasty break up, as Jaehyun would’ve imagined in his head as the man leaving with his bags got into the elevator quickly. Jaehyun, on the other hand, decided to look down and walk towards his own place, only a couple of doors from the stairs.

He took one glance at that certain person again and noticed them sobbing, slowly walking into the apartment before heading inside his own. Feeling a little bit guilty for eavesdropping, he thought, why not give a small note for them on this particular day?

As much as he wasn’t a fan of the idealistic thoughts of romance itself, he just decided to go on with it because of impulse and head on to his laptop to think of a write up. But what was he supposed to write? A love story? A poem? Some sort of weird quote about love?

That’s right, he was likely gonna go for an anonymous love letter.

Besides, they’ll probably not notice or just think of it as a prank, eh? Valentine’s day is actually full of pranks as he remembered, as many as those done on April Fool’s day.

Cracking his knuckles before writing, he paused and realized again that he wasn’t sure on what to write.

“Roses are red… Violets are blue…. If you were a booger, I’d choose you?”

Meh.

That was already cheesy to some, but that was just plain disgusting to him.

He thought again and felt like it should be sincere and well thought out. He decided to open up his emails in case he was able to think of something, but then he realized he had opened an email from earlier and decided to read it again

“Mr. Valentine, I need your help.

I saw one of your advices from the Romance Realm forums and I wanted to email you personally, if you don’t mind.

I need to come up with a letter for my crush. She is in love with the thought of romance but doesn’t seem to think of it realistically. I want to make a letter that makes her realize that I will be able to give her that realistic romance she deserves rather than the idealistic one she can’t grasp on.

A reply would be nice. Thanks!”

It must’ve been fate that he decided to do this one good deed just to cheer up someone. So alas, he thought of something quick the moment he remembered the term, ‘idealistic romance, and grabbed a pen and some special paper he had saved

Besides, this was his hobby and talent. It wouldn’t kill anyone if he tried to do this, right?

A little over thirty minutes and with penmanship worthy enough for its own font, Jaehyun grabbed a light scented, special envelope made for letters sent during Valentine’s. It was like giving a letter to a young love yet again to him as he sealed it with a sticker rather than anything.

He got out of his apartment and walked on over to the person’s front door. As he looked down, he noticed a mat on his feet and decided to put it below, making sure there was a slight peep of the envelope on the side. He suddenly heard the knob of the door about to click open, making him immediately retreat before getting caught—and to his relief, he wasn’t.

The person behind the door then walked out and immediately saw the different contrast of colors from their mat and the envelope that was peeping on the side. They crouched down to see it and immediately got a whiff of a mix of vanilla and rose that seemed to entice their sense of scent

Without hesitation, they walked back inside and closed the door behind them.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was spying from his own place as he made sure the door was unnoticeably opened at its slightest inch, grinning and closing the door as he sat on the floor in respite.

To him, it was just some fake letter to make up someone’s day.

To the other, it was one that could liven up their dreams of a fantasized romance.

“It’s just like any other day, but today’s just a lil bit special, no?”

#jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #jung jaehyun scenarios #jung jaehyun imagines #nct #nct 127

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maxrev · 6 years

Text

During Kaidan week, I wrote a small fic for the “Memories” prompt. @humblydefiant commented something to the effect of “You can’t leave it like this!” and after writing it, I may or may not have already been thinking along those lines ;) @shells-void helped with Kaidan’s assignment orders. Thanks dude!

So, @humblydefiant, here you go. Just hope it’s as good as the first ;)

Chance Meetings

“Who can say whether we shall ever see them again?” said Morrel with tearful eyes.

“Darling,” replied Valentine, “has not the Count just told us that all human wisdom is summed up in two words? -- ‘wait and hope.’”

Kaidan closed the book, thinking about those last words from the The Count of Monte Cristo. They could so easily, almost eerily, mirror his thoughts on the mysterious John he’d met in the bookstore and wondered if he’d ever see again. ‘Wait and hope’ indeed. What else could he do? He wasn’t even sure why the man had made such an impression on him.

Maybe it was the ease and familiarity with which they’d talked, like they’d known one another for years. Maybe it was the subjects they’d covered, something Kaidan had never experienced with anyone else. He’d always been considered somewhat of a nerd and he was okay with that. Maybe it was those intense blue eyes -- every time they’d locked onto his, Kaidan felt the rest of the world fade away. He felt like the other man had been focused solely on him, completely tuned into him alone and whatever he said.

Then again, maybe it was the way the tight black T had fit over well defined muscles or the way those jeans had fit him so well that Kaidan had to tear his eyes away before getting caught...

Pushing those thoughts aside before they led him to others and his rigid control spiraled away from him, Kaidan got up to make a cup of coffee. He’d been up most of the night reading, had gotten only a few hours of sleep. Caffeine was the most important nutrient he needed at the moment. His stomach chose that moment to growl, reminding him that as a biotic, caffeine was not the only thing his body needed.

And there went his wayward thoughts again….

Taking his breakfast and coffee out to the balcony, Kaidan enjoyed the view of the English Bay. He stayed out there for awhile, long after he’d finished the plate of toast, eggs and bacon; long after the coffee was gone. It was so beautiful here. Yet, he wished to be up in space, spending his time on missions flying amongst the stars. Each new mission would be an adventure.

Of course, he wasn’t that naive kid who’d gone to Jump Zero. Not all missions were fun and games. Some would likely be dangerous. It was still something he wished for despite that.

His omni-tool pinged and he opened the message. It was marked urgent.

HEADQUARTERS

Systems Alliance Navy

Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

23 May 2183

From: Major Nelson J. Banks

To: SLT Kaidan Alenko, SAMC Naval Base Vancouver

Via: Commanding officer

Subj: Permanent Change of Station

1. You are hereby assigned to the Normandy SR-1 frigate under the command of Captain David Anderson. You are to report shipside at 0700 on Monday, 26th May 2183.

Major Nelson J. Banks

Excitement unfurled inside him. It appeared his time on earth, at the Vancouver base, had come to an end. He’d miss his parents for sure. The three of them had spent this last weekend at the condo together. It had been wonderful being nearby, being able to visit whenever he’d had the chance. Not all soldiers could say that.

But now he was getting what he wanted most of all -- being assigned to a ship out in space. It was the chance of a lifetime.

As he packed, his thoughts turned to Vancouver. Specifically, that bookstore. Who knew when he’d be back. A pang of sadness hit him unexpectedly, knowing he’d probably never have that chance meeting with the man from the bookstore - John. He couldn’t understand why it made him sad but it did all the same. He would have liked to see him again, talk about the book or anything else, really. Yes...what he wouldn’t give to see that man at least one more time. Who knew what it could have lead to?

Well, there was no hope for it. Despite what the book said. Wherever John was, Kaidan hoped he was happy and had a good life. Packing the last of his things, his eyes landed on the book itself. An inner debate took place and before he could second guess his decision, the book ended up in his bag. He’d make room for it on the ship somehow.

It would have been nice to maybe leave a note for John at the bookstore, just in case, but there simply wasn’t time. He was staying on base tonight to make sure he arrived at the Normandy on time. Looking around the condo one last time, he shut the door behind him. He and his parents had said their goodbyes last night, though he’d have to let them know he would no longer be nearby.

As the sky car set a course for the base he glanced out the window at Vancouver. Goodbye, John, wherever you are.

______________________________________

Kaidan sat to the right of the pilot, Flight Lieutenant Jeff ‘Joker’ Moreau, steady hands brushing across the screens as he familiarized himself with various flight plans. Not as fast as Joker himself but he was pretty damn good.

Around the ship, rumors and gossip had been springing up like wildfires running rampant among the crew concerning the new XO. Not surprising, really. Captain Anderson himself had briefed Kaidan a little, as he’d likely done with everyone else. They had all at least heard of Commander Shepard, even if they hadn’t actually met him.

Still, news reports and military scuttlebutt were never quite the same as the real person and Kaidan wondered what the soldier was like behind the mask, underneath the armor -- who Shepard really was when no one was looking. Being assigned to the Normandy was turning out to be a very interesting assignment.

A brief few minutes later, Captain Anderson came over the coms informing the crew to assemble for the arrival of Commander Shepard. Kaidan eased out of his seat, waiting for Joker and following along behind him. The man was certainly fast on crutches and Kaidan found himself hurrying to catch up. They were still the last ones to arrive.

Anderson introduced Commander Shepard with little fanfare and in walked the man himself, tall and broad shouldered, his uniform crisp and tailored to perfection. A perfect soldier fit for an Alliance Navy recruitment poster. Shadows from the angle of the overhead lights obscured his face from the crew and not having paid too much attention to the news reports, Kaidan wasn’t exactly sure what the new XO looked like.

As Anderson stepped aside, Shepard walked forward, the light shining fully on his face and Kaidan felt like he’d just gone through the relay and left his stomach behind. Coming to parade rest in front of the assembled crew was Commander Shepard or, as Kaidan knew him, John. He hadn’t known who he’d been talking to when he met that man in the bookstore. God, he was such an idiot. For a brief moment, he wondered if John -- Commander Shepard -- had had a good laugh over that once he’d left the store.

Unconsciously, Kaidan had taken a step back behind the line, covering himself in the shadows much as the Commander had been. Only for him, it was to try and hide.

His eyes tracked the Commander’s movements as he strode forward, shaking hands with each one of the crew, saying a few encouraging words as they in turn gave him their name and rank and welcomed him aboard. He gave each of the crew a slight smile and continued to move down the line. Joker was the last one of the crew before it was his turn. Kaidan could feel his stomach tie itself in knots as John came closer -- Commander Shepard, Kaidan. Get it right!

And then...there he was. Those vivid, piercing blue eyes just as he remembered them. That strong, angular face. That muscular body that he remem--oof!

A strong elbow to his side had this thoughts scattering like the fog in the sun. “You remember your name, maybe your rank?” a sarcastic voice whispered next to him.

“Uh…Staff Commander Kaidan Alenko, sir.”

A warm smile lifted those full lips in a grin, a hint of even white teeth showing. Bright blue eyes sparkled with humor. “Nice to have you aboard, Staff Commander.”

“Thank you, sir.” Had he noticed Kaidan checking him out? Shit! Where had all his discipline gone in the last five minutes? He was so much more professional than that.

With the meet and greet over, Kaidan deliberately ignored Joker’s hard stare that he could see out of the corner of his eyes, the man’s lips tilted up in a grin. Rubbing a hand at the back of his neck, he finally risked a glance at the pilot. “Starstruck, Alenko? Wow, who’d a guessed? Suppose it takes all kinds. Just remember, he puts his pants on one leg at a time like the rest of us. Well, unless he sleeps in them, in which case…”

Tuning out the pilot’s rambling as the man headed back to the bridge, Kaidan briefly wondered how he could turn back time and not look like a fool. Shaking his head, he stiffened as he felt someone come up close beside him. It made him uncomfortable when someone got in his personal space.

At least until a deep voice whispered in his ear, causing chills to race over his skin, “Would love to hear what you thought of the book. Let’s carve out some time together as soon as we get the chance.”

Kaidan felt the breath leave his lungs. He couldn’t be...didn’t mean--

“Discuss the book. I’d love to hear your thoughts.”

Oh, of course. And just like that, the man was gone. Kaidan knew because the part of his body where the Commander had been so close to him, suddenly felt cold.

He’d really been looking forward to this assignment but had been equally disappointed he’d never get a chance to see John again. Shaking his head at himself, he recalled an old cliche his dad was much too fond of and used often -- be careful what you wish for.

#mass effect #mshenko #part 2 #maxwrites #absolute ridiculousness

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klainebowsanddramioneflies · 6 years

Note

“we’re both in a hostage situation and i know now isn’t the time, but what product do you use in your hair, because wow, it looks super soft. RIGHT. SORRY. NO TALKING. DON’T EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT MR. HOSTAGE CRIMINAL GUY. AHAHAHAHA. *whispering* if we survive please let me know. i need to know. thanks.” AU. You know the pairing 😉

I FINALLY FINISHED THIS! Left my original note to start as well… Here ya go!

Rating: T, Pairing: Klaine

Note:So, I’m doing this one a little… different thanwould be expected. I hope you all enjoy, though! Without further ado…

Looking over the group of would-be-hostages, ifthe Warblers actually did that sort of thing, Blaine couldn’t keep his gazefrom catching on one man in particular. His hair seemed to defy gravity, and hedidn’t seem all that terrified as the other bank patrons did. No, actually, theman seemed mostly curious, if a bit annoyed. Blaine figured the annoyance wasprobably due to the interruption to his normal daily routine, though.

The Bluetooth piece in his ear buzzed irritatinglywhile Blaine spaced out, making him jerk his head and mutter an “ow” under hisbreath as Wes’s voice crackled over the radio at him. “Blackbird- get into formation! You need to be calming down the patronsand setting off the signal blockers before anyone gets around the general blockerMagpie set off!” We-Oriole’sinstructions were harsh and clear. Blaine needed to get his head in the gamebefore he jeopardized all the Warblers.

With a simple check that his masquerade-styleblack mask was still in place over his very distinguishable brows and, ratheraverage to be quite honest, nose, Blaine hopped from his perch along a railingin the shadows down onto the main floor amongst the frightened bank patrols. Hesmiled at them, but they didn’t seem to want to smile back. Even the attractiveman with the perfect hair wouldn’t grace him with any level of a grin. Helooked… bored.

Blaine wondered what had happened to that littlespark of curiosity from earlier, but the muttering of his code-name in his earreminded him that he didn’t really have time for that right now. “Uh, right…”he mumbled, sticking a hand in the pocket of sleek black skinnies and pressinga button that would ensure no technology came back to life on them. They didn’tneed anyone calling the cops or texting a friend about this.

“Now, um, there’s no need to panic,” Blainestarted, smiling at the people who looked ready to either hit him or pass out.It was a pretty even mixture this time. He inwardly cursed at being the one whohad to do all the schmoozing. Why couldn’t one of the other guys do this part?He was positive that Trent- Canary-would have hearts melting in no time. He was positively lovable! Blaine couldn’teven use his puppy eyes effectively without his oddly triangular brows!

He didn’t have to do his whole routine this time,however, as the man who had been so interested in the situation earlier- theone who had been so bored with Blaine’s entrance- suddenly spoke up, cuttinghim off completely. “Yes, no need to worry because you,” he motioned to Blaine,then around the bank as if there were more people who were currently unseen-which was scarily accurate in Blaine’s opinion. “-are the Warblers. And you arenot interested in hurting anyone, orin our money. You just want what’s in the vault. Am I right?”

So the guy knew about them. He had his brow cockedat Blaine, his useless phone twirling between his fingers as if to give himsomething to fidget with while he waited for the criminal’s response. Blainewas simply dumbfounded. He didn’t know what the hell to do. How was he supposedto respond to that? The guy was right- they were going to take the cash from acorrupt politician’s vault- the head of the Smythe foundation, to be precise-and they would discreetly distribute it to the organizations he’d hurt most.Namely, the man had been boycotting LGBT support groups and Women’s Healthorganizations all over Ohio. He’d even recently disowned his only son due tohis being gay. The Warblers were working on how to help the boy, but that mighttake a bit more time to figure out…

The thing was, nobody cared to know what theWarblers did or why they did it. All anyone cared about was that they werecriminals and needed to be behind bars. It seemed this man was different,though.

“Blackbird,what the hell is going on out there?!” Jef- er, Mockingbird’s voice came across the Bluetooth and Blaine jumpedslightly, having forgotten that his friends might try to talk to him duringthis whole fiasco. And what did they expect him to say anyway? It wasn’texactly like he could answer while he stood in front of the would-be-hostages,now could he?

Rolling his eyes at the stupidity of the people hecalled friends, Blaine actually smiled brightly at the man who still had hisbrows raised in question. “You are exactly right, good sir! The Warblers do notbelieve in violence,” he looked the man up and down, then said in more of amutter, “We do believe in amazing hair care products, however.”

“Blai-“the sound of someone getting elbowed in the gut was loud in Blaine’s ear, and hementally cursed Thad for being so stupid and almost saying his damn name. Healso cursed whoever elbowed him for doing it while he was still pressing thetransmit button on his radio. “Blackbird.Did I just hear something about hair care products?!”

Wait. What the hell? How did they even hear that?He shouldn’t be transmitting unless… “Oh, fucking hell. Oriole, Magpie, do youhave me on constant transmit?” he asked, the bank patrons looking ratherconfused. The man who had been shaking his head in disbelief after hearingBlaine’s comment about his hair now gaped at him for the sudden swearing. Itseemed Blaine was a bit unexpected. Yeah, he got that a lot.

He could practically hear them smiling as Davidand Wes answered him as one. “Yep!”

“Oh my god, can you guys just hurry up already?”Blaine hissed, looking a little crazy to the patrons, he was sure. It seemed hewas amusing to the guy with the perfect hair, though, as he seemed to be barelyholding back laughter. “Er, right. So, you’re all perfectly safe. Your phoneswill be in working order again very shortly and we will be out of your…”

He swallowed thickly, glancing at the head of thegorgeous man. “Hair?” the man supplied with a quirked smile, and Blainesqueaked. He actually squeaked. Laughter erupted in his ear and he had toclench his jaw to keep from cursing his friends.

“Right. Yes. That,” Blaine was fumbling for wordsat this point and it was getting ridiculous. If he didn’t get the-

“Alright,Blackbird, finish things up down there. Finch and Mockingbird have the goodsand are on their way out and Sparrow is locking things back up tight.” Oh.Good. Nick and Jeff got the cash and Thad was on lock up duty. That must meanthat either Nick or Jeff had done the elbowing earlier. He’d have to thank themand remind them to stop the transmit first in the future…

That also meant that he needed to get everybodycalm and collected so that David- er- Magpiecould finish all the alarms and tech blockers and all that crap. And Wes wouldstill be watching him on the security cameras so he’d probably be radioingagain soon if Blaine didn’t do something quickly.

Shooting all the patrons another big smile, Blainespoke to them again in what he hoped was a happy and calming tone. “Okay! We’rejust about finished here, so you all can go back to your banking needs shortly.Um, unless they decide to close the bank now, which may happen, in which case,um, I apologize for this inconvenience?” He winced a little at that faux paus.Shouldn’t have mentioned the possible upset to their errands. Blaine reallywasn’t on his game today.

He hadn’t even noticed the great-hair-guy gettingcloser until he felt a tug at his belt loop. Blaine jolted a little and yelped,causing a response in his earpiece.

“Blackbird?You okay?”

He was saved the need to reply when he heard Weschuckling over the radio. “Don’t worryMockingbird. He’s just getting a little interest from the hair care deity. Betterwrap things up quick there, Blackbird. We’re ready to go!”

Blaine swallowed thickly as the gorgeous manleaned close enough to practically purr into his ear. “You know, I definitelyhave some suggestions to take better care of those beautiful curls you haveplastered to your head,” he murmured, and Blaine felt himself blushing to hisover-gelled roots. “I also really believe in what you Warblers are doing. I’vealways rather thought ‘Nightingale’ suited me quite well…” the man winked at Blaineas he leaned back a little.

When Blaine explained that it was time for him todepart and threw a little smoke bomb that would simply give him a way outwithout anyone seeing him, he quickly grabbed the curious man’s hand and pulledhim along behind him, through the shortcut to the getaway car, knowing the othershad heard everything he had thanks to his radio.

“I’m Kurt, by the way,” the man said as theyreached the car and he climbed in amongst the Warblers.

“From now on, you’re Nightingale,” the AsianWarbler stated with a smirk. And the car peeled away without a trace.

#my writing #fanfiction #glee #drabble #my fics #klaine #warblers #prompts

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andrewmoocow · 6 years

Text

Fooly Falls chapter 4: Batter Up (originally posted on July 12, 2017)

It was another beautiful day in Gravity Falls, perhaps beautiful enough for a nice game of baseball. Yeah, this is the baseball chapter alright. Anyway, Haruko hit the ball really hard, much to the opposing team's shock as it flies out of the park and towards the sky. Everyone was busy comprehending what just happened as Haruko arrogantly thanked everyone while doing a little victory dance.

“Oy, she is just too good.” Stan complained as he, Dipper, Mabel, Ford, Soos, Wendy, Candy, Grenda, Pacifica, Robbie, McGucket and Waddles sat in the dugout. “I think that last one went into space.” Wendy added. “Wait a minute, why are we playing baseball anyway?” Stan wondered. “I came up with that Mr. Pines.” Soos answered. “You see, in many of the anime I watch, the characters would sometimes just chill out and play a nice game of baseball.”

Stan was still confused. “Yeah, but why baseball anyway?” he continued on. ”Filler episodes dude.” Soos added. “I will never understand the shows that you watch Soos. Like that weird giant robot show. Why is it that our wimpy protagonist can't seem to choose between the hot-blooded blonde Russian girl, the heavy drinker or the blue-haired clone?”

“So you made up this whole team Mabel?” Dipper asked his sister, who was wearing a baseball-themed sweater with a gnome on it, as Stan and Soos continued debating. “Yeah, I even got a mascot and everything!” she replied pointing to a man wearing a gnome-themed costume dancing around the field. The mascot took his head off to reveal a rather normal looking man black-haired man with a smile on his face. “Great work there Tad!” she said to him. “She promised me bread.” he announced.

“Yes, thank you.” Haruko thanked as a gnome handed her a dollar bill. “You're welcome babe, you're a great help to the Forest Freaks.” the gnome replied with a Manotaur, a Gremoblin, a unicorn, a group of beautiful-looking blonde men in white and a Lilliputtian stood behind him. “Say, why are you so good at hitting anyway?” he asked Haruko. “I just have my ways Jeff.” she replied. “Good to hear that!” he exclaimed as he turned to another gnome with a bushy grey beard and unaligned eyes. “Make a note of that Schmebulock.”

“Schmebulock!” the other gnome exclaimed as he pulled a pen out of his beard and started scribbling on his hand. “Schmebulock.” he said. “Is Schmebulock all you can say?” the Manotaur asked looking at Schmebulock's hand. “Schmebulock.” he glumly replied.

“This is utter cockamamie balderdash!” Stan shouted from the dugout. “How is it that the Gravity Falls Gnomes, who have two old men with tons of fighting experience and a lumberjack's daughter who could kick ass, lose to a bunch of weirdos who don't know the first thing about baseball?”

“Maybe we need to bring out someone who knows his way around baseball.” Candy replied as everyone turned to Dipper. “Yeah, Dipper can help us win!” Grenda shouted. “I-I don't know guys, I'm not all that great at this game and Haruko is like crazy good.” Dipper groaned. “C'mon Dipper, we just need someone who can outmatch her.” Ford said putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Alright fine.” Dipper said as he picked up a bat and walked to home plate while his team chanted for him. “I'm going to die here Chutzpar, I just know it.” he mumbled to the Manotaur, who was serving as umpire. “Not gonna lie, I sort of agree.” Chutzpar replied.

Dipper readied his bat preparing to strike but he missed the ball. “STRIKE ONE!” Chutzpar shouted. The boy readied himself again, only to miss once more. “STRIKE TWO!” the umpire cried. He prepared to strike again, only to get knocked down by the ball. “Strike three, he's out!” Haruko exclaimed with a cheeky look on her face.

“Ooh, that's gonna leave a mark!” Wendy stated as Waddles carried Dipper back to the dugout. “You alright there, how many fingers am I holding up?” Robbie asked as he pulled out three of his fingers. “Well everybody, might as well admit defeat.” Stan bluntly stated as he got up to congratulate the Forest Freaks. “We can't give up just yet Stanley!” Ford said grabbing his brother's arm. “Look over there!” He pointed to Canti as he was picking up various balls from the field.

Soon enough, Canti was practicing with the Gnomes as Soos pitched. “Wow, he's actually pretty good.” Pacifica gasped in awe of the machine's skills until they all turned to notice Stan hunched over, his fingers locked together and his glasses suddenly shining. “This is it everyone, my secret weapon!” he proudly proclaimed.

As they all cheered, Dipper walked away with a stoic look on his face back to the Shack until he turned to Haruko standing over him. “That bandaged head look kinda suits you.” she said. “C'mon kid, it's a compliment.” Dipper, as usual, wasn't buying it. “Does it really matter anyway? Like I said, I'm not good at baseball.” he replied. “Quit lying kid!” she exclaimed as she held her bass aloft. Dipper winced, thinking she was going to hit him again, but instead she put it down and got on her Vespa.

“Anyway, nothing's gonna happen unless you swing the bat.” she said as she rode off, leaving Dipper to contemplate her words. “Oh yeah, forgot to tell you much earlier Dipper, but my parents got a new Medical Mechanica factory here.” Pacifica said walking up behind him. “Are you okay there?”

Meanwhile in another part of town, Commander Amarao had rolled in on a Vespa with Kitsurubami, Powers, Trigger and a few other agents behind him. “Well men, this is the place.” he said. “Fan out, I want the Vespa Woman brought to me by tomorrow.” he ordered to the others.

“SIR YES SIR!” they all replied as they spread out across the Oregon town. Amarao did so himself as he tackled a man with a goatee wearing a red flannel shirt. “You there, what do you know about a pink-haired girl with a yellow scooter and 4001 Rickenbacker?” he inquired. “A Rickenbacker, like the one Paul McCartney has? Or was it John Lennon?” the man replied as he took notice of his interrogator's eyebrows. “Those eyebrows....”

“Don't you befuddle me with your Beatles trivia, where is she?” he demanded. “Oh yeah, I think she's hanging around the Mystery Shack.” the man answered as Amarao dropped him to the ground. “Thank you good sir, now have a nice day.” The agent then got back on his scooter as he rode away. “I guess he must be a fan of the rock that looks like a face rock.”

“Hey everyone, I'm back.” Dipper announced as he walked back into the Shack's living room to find Haruko, still in her baseball uniform, twitching uncontrollably as Stan gave her a massage while Mabel looked on. “Oh hey kid, caught us at an awkward time. Dinner's in a bit.” Stan said as the girl started moaning. “Oh, it hurts! Not so rough!”

“What are you doing?” the young mystery solver asked as the moaning got louder. “Oh yes, your gristle is like baby lamb wool!” she screamed. “Old people massages are actually pretty good, don'tcha think?” she asked Dipper blushing. “You really stink, you could just change into some clean clothes.” the boy said as he walked away. “And yet I can't smell your sweat, wonder why? Oh, I'm too tired to even hold a fork!”

“Why were you playing for all those creatures anyway?” Dipper asked turning to her. “They gave me good money, thought it could help with the electric bill.” she replied before moaning again.

“Here Haruko, try some of this!” Stan offered her some eggs at dinner as he gulped down on some brown meat, squealing happily along the way. “Now this is what life is worth livin' for!” he exclaimed. “What are you even doing anyway?!” Dipper asked, thinking back to the Vespa Woman's first time at the Shack when she said that she needed him. “Y'know what, I'm going outside for some fresh air.” He walked outside as Stan, Mabel, Haruko and Canti watched. “Geez, what's with him?” Mabel wondered.

Meanwhile outside, Dipper sat down on the front steps thinking about what had just happened. Haruko had said that very night that she needed him yet here she was getting close with his great uncle. “Excuse me young man, is this place your home?” a voice asked. Dipper turned his head to see a red-haired man with large eyebrows and a pair of sunglasses standing before him. “And it's also a tourist trap?”

“No sir, me and my sister are living here for the summer.” the pine tree kid answered. “Then I guess you might know what I'm looking for, huh?” the stranger replied turning to him. “Those eyebrows....” Dipper said to himself looking at his eyebrows.

“I've heard intel about a man in a fez calling himself Stan Pines disguising as a gangster to break into a meeting of the Molehill Gang at Booby's. I'd like to speak with him.” the stranger politely said. “Sorry mister, my grunkle's busy but I do have something that might be of interest to you.” Dipper replied as he rushed back inside and came back out with the Firestarter in hand.

“I've been researching about an ancient being that once roamed this land and I think you might be interested.” Dipper started scrolling through the page as the man watched. “See, this man has once inhabited this land and got bored one day, so he made a deal with a dream demon known as Bill Cipher to gain ultimate power and wipe out his people.” He turned over the page to show the filled-in outline of Bill.

“I'm sorry kid, but this is all make-believe compared to what I've seen!” the man stated. “Listen, I'm looking for a girl with a Vespa scooter that's living here.” The young detective immediately knew what this man was talking about. “Oh, you mean Haruko? She's been living here as a maid, even though all she does is mooch off my family.” he said.

“So she's been hanging with you. That means she's addicted to you in a way.” the man said. “Listen, she's mad I tell you. Hopefully you didn't tell many people about her, cause then you'll think smart They'll find out what you're dealing with eventually.” Dipper put the parchment away in his jacket pocket as the man adjusted his shades. “Say, is there anything for sale here?”

“Thanks, I always wanted one of these.” the man thanked Dipper as he got on his scooter holding a fish covered in fur. “Anyway, older women can have an effect on you, so you better be careful.” The man drove away from the Shack as Dipper stood there watching while Stan and Haruko laughed wildly inside. “I got a bad feeling about this.

“So you're saying Haruko is hanging out with Grunkle Stan more despite the fact she said she needed you?” Mabel said when Dipper walked up to their room. “Exactly sis. I've been feeling that she's using us for her own agenda.” he replied. “And there was also this guy with really big eyebrows that knows about her somehow.”

“Wait, eyebrows?” Mabel said curiously. “Yeah, he came here looking for Stan and found me instead.” Dipper replied. “How big were they?” she asked. “Like really big. I'm pretty sure they're not ever real!” he replied. “Going off topic here, but is it okay if I call you Takkun like what Haruko does?”

“No.”

“Batting practice at sunset?” Haruko asked later that evening outside the gift shop. “Do you want me to be your coach?” she added as Dipper strolled away from her. “No, please.” he replied. “I can teach you how.” she said. “Just go away and keep doing crazy things with my uncle.” he replied hiding behind the totem pole. “We're in this together Pine Tree.” Haruko said as his grunkle's head dropped on the ground, much to his shock. Then suddenly, Mabel's head was behind him as well. “Your head is the only one that works Takkun.” she stated as she held the boy's head in her arms and then back on his body. “You'll hit a homerun soon. Promise.”

Later, Dipper stood outside holding a baseball bat with Haruko watching him. “Yeah, that's the right stance.” she said. “Buuut, you have to swing the bat!” Just then, Ford walked outside all bleary-eyed and his hair very unkempt. “Pardon me for being rude kids,” he said. “but what are you doing at 3:00am?”

“She's helping me with batting practice Ford.” Dipper replied before Haruko laid herself all over him. “Hit it into the sky, don't hold back.” she continued. “Before he swings the bat, a real slugger imagines an arc inside his heart, arching directly to heaven.” She took hold of the boy's arms and made him point the bat towards a flickering star. “I think that star would make a great target.” Ford said. “Yeah, but why is it blinking like that?”

Meanwhile in a secluded part of town, the agents had made their temporary base in an abandoned house with Kitsurubami, Powers and Trigger supervising them. “Alright, put it up on screen.” Powers ordered as the image changed from static to a large satellite circling the Earth. “Kitsurubami, analyze.”

“It's been ten hours since impact.” she announced. “We have experienced a total loss of control after it caused irreparable damage to sectors six through eighteen and displaced all three antennas including the spare.” As she continued explaining, the image of the satellite was enhanced until a baseball was spotted within it. “It made a quantum leap into the central processing sector and scored a direct hit on the core unit. This is Satellite Geo-Saki, it's proceeding with its self-programmed attack.”

The three government officials turned towards their superior Amarao examining the fur trout he received from the Mystery Shack. “Is everything alright Commander Amarao?” Trigger wondered. “It's nothing, I just can't help but wonder what fur this is supposed to be from.” Amarao replied handing the fish to the three. “I have a feeling it might be from some kind of grizzly bear.”

“Those eyebrows.....” the agents and lieutenant thought. “So when's it gonna fall?!” their superior exclaimed. “Commander, sir!” a scientist exclaimed rushing into the room before standing in attention. “We have good news on the statue of Diamond Brandy you have told us about!” he stated.

“Wait, Diamond Brandy?” Kitsurubami wondered looking at the scientist. “Amarao has gotten word from a young boy staying at 618 Gopher Road that there is a statue of a powerful vampire wizard that we have dug up.” he explained to the others. “Good work Dr. Hubert.” Amarao thanked him before leading his companions to the lab. “Seriously, I still feel like we've been to that Gopher Road place before.” Powers whispered to Trigger. “Maybe we came there in like, another life or something weird like that.”

“So Stuart, how's the life goin'?” another scientist in the lab asked chatting with his partner as he turned on some UV lights. “Oh y'know Ken, my fiancee left me, my mom died, dad got deported, but I got a sweet car last month!” Stuart replied. Just then, Amarao, Kitsurubami, Powers, Trigger and Hubert stepped into the lab. “Commander Amarao, sir!” the two shouted saluting him. “So boys, how goes researching that statue?” Hubert asked stepping forward. “We seem to have uncovered something....peculiar.” Ken answered. “There is a hole on his forehead that only showed up when we collected it. Have a look-see.”

Hubert stepped forward, staring deep within the hole as an air of dread crawled all over him. Suddenly, a large drill popped out impaling him in his forehead. “He has a horn!” Stuart cried out in horror. “And he's waking up!” Ken replied. “Quick, bring out more UV lamps!” he ordered. “YES SIR!” The statue began to crack more and more until a hulking figure with long blonde hair was revealed underneath. Diamond Brandy was reborn and boy was he hungry. The drill began to rip apart many of the other scientists, coating the UV lamps in blood.

“I can't believe it, he's still alive!” Trigger screamed in fear as the vampire burst from his prison. “And he's using human blood to block out the light!” Kitsurubami added. As Diamond Brandy stepped down, he gazed at the remaining mortals. “Hm, it seems the world has changed quite a bit while I was asleep.” he said to himself. “Your modern technology proves no match for the last of the Pole People!”

“Stay back monster!” the armored security guards exclaimed as they charged into the lab, pointing their weapons at him. “Zuhohoho, feeding time.” Brandy chuckled to himself as time slowed to a stop. He waltzed around the guards like a flash of light to them until time was restored to normal, and that's when they realized his true power.

“Commander, my hands!” One of the guards screamed in horror as he laid eyes upon his fingers being locked together with a scientist's, along with all of the other guards and scientists. “THEY'RE STUCK TOGETHER!” they all shouted. “Someone, do something!” Amarao shouted before Kitsurubami fired her anti-tank rifle at Brandy, only for it to to fail as he grabbed the bullet in his hands and poked it, transforming it into a large cricket which hopped away.

“You won't get away with this you abomination!” a scientist hollered before Diamond appeared right before his eyes and jabbed his drill into his forehead, reducing him and the others into lumps of flesh. “I think it's time for a new look. Allow me to change into something more....comfortable.” the monster announced before telekinetically bringing forth the blood of his victims and making it surround him like a cocoon.

“Somebody, shoot him!” Powers exclaimed pointing at the blood cocoon. “We already tried that, and now looked what happened!” Kitsurubami shouted in reply pointing towards the giant cricket that was menacing Stuart and Ken. The cocoon suddenly burst open, revealing Diamond Brandy now bare-chested and wearing a long flowing red cape and white hakama pants. “Ah, so much better.” the demon stated proudly looking around before turning to the two scientists.

“Please spare us sir!” Stuart cried as he and Ken held each other close, quivering in fear. “We'll do anything to stay alive! Anything!” Ken added as a few tears appeared in his eyes. “Anything?” Diamond said stroking his chin. “I know. I will let you two live, but in exchange you will serve me for all eternity!” he exclaimed as he made his fingertips light up and he tapped the two on their foreheads. Their forms contorted wildly as they screamed in pain until their skin turned pale blue and their labcoats were replaced with clothing just as wild as their new master's.

“From now on, the mortals who call themselves Stuart Dooley and Ken Simpson are dead!” the monster proclaimed as they rose from the ground, smiling evilly. “In their place are my new minions, Stinger and Loggken!” The three of them struck a pose as the four government officials stepped away before running for the hills. “Don't think you can get away so easily!” the two newborn beasts chanted in unison before raising their hands skyward. “RIPPLE!” Just then, the old house started cracking like glass as it began to fade from reality.

“Wait a minute, they can warp reality?!” Agent Trigger exclaimed as they kept running for the front door. “That boy never mentioned anything about that in his paper!” Amarao replied. “Enough about some random kid, we have to run!” Powers and Kitsurubami shouted as they got closer to the door. They jumped out in the nick of time as the house caved in, falling into a hole in space before zipping itself closed.

“That was insane! My life hasn't been at that much risk since the Arcadia Bay case!” Trigger wheezed getting up. “Apparently these so-called Pole People are more powerful than we thought.” Kitsurubami replied. “They can use incredibly powerful magic to slaughter lower beings and have the power of mind control! What do we do now?”

The two then turned to Powers and Amarao looking off into the distance through the forest and at a hovel of a shop. “Easy.” Powers said. “We find someone who knows and can stop him. And we're also gonna need some new men and a new base.”

Dipper woke up in his bed to find Mabel cuddling Waddles in her bed but Haruko was nowhere to be found. “Where is she anyway?” he wondered as he walked down the stairs to search for her. He combed the entire house from the spare room that Ford was sleeping in to the kitchen where he found Canti washing dishes. “Hey Canti, have you seen Haruko anywhere?” he asked the Medical Machine, who shrugged in reply before returning to what he was doing.

“C'mon Haruko, where are you?” Dipper groaned as he got more tired. Suddenly a bright light coming from the vending machine caught his eye. Punching in the code, going downstairs and taking the elevator to the lab, he tiptoed around until he found Haruko playing with the Eyes of Heaven mask Ford told him about. ”What is she doing now?” he wondered before the gleam of the red jewel on its forehead pointed at his forehead, sending him into a frenzy.

“Just as I thought! 618 Gopher Road!” Amarao meanwhile declared in the forest. “Come along everyone, we got a world to save.” he proclaimed to his subordinates. “Eyebrows!”

The next day, it was time for baseball again as the Gnomes cheered for Canti when he stepped up to the mound.”Yah can do it TV-bot!” McGucket hollered. “Yeah, give 'em what for!” Candy added as they all started laughing. Meanwhile, Dipper and Wendy were sitting on the Shack's front steps discussing what happened yesterday. “So some government guys say that Haruko's a loose cannon?” Wendy wondered. “Yeah, he came to me looking for Stan and then he started talking about her when I showed him the Firestarter.” Dipper responded as Haruko pulled up in front of them on her Vespa.

“Hey, the game's already started you two.” Haruko said. “Are you just gonna sit around doing perverted stuff?” she asked. “We're not doing perverted stuff Haruko, you're just insane.” Dipper bluntly replied. “C'mon kid, today's the day you get to swing the bat.” the Vespa woman added. “I'm not sure Haruko,” Wendy said looking at her younger friend. “Dipper really isn't the type to swing the bat.”

“I'm not good at baseball.” Dipper said. “Ah well, it is Canti's first game after all.” Haruko replied. “Oh that's right, we got Lord Canti on our team now!” Wendy exclaimed getting up and sitting behind her on the Vespa. “See ya later dude!” she called to her friend as they drove off. “Have fun.” the boy solemnly replied as he walked back inside.

Back inside the shack, Dipper walked into the living room to a horrifying site, his great uncle lying dead on the ground with the TV smashed in beside him. “Oh my gosh Grunkle Stan, are you alright?!” he panicked. “Who did this to you, what happened here?! I'll call an ambulance!” Looking over what had happened, he heard a noise and turned around to find the elderly con artist sitting at the table surprisingly looking fine. “But, how?” the boy wondered. “What's the matter Dipper? You look like you've seen a ghost.” Stan said turning to his great nephew. “Is-is everything okay?”

“Naw, I'm fine kid.” the uncle replied. “It's just that Haruko and I have built a special kind of relationship over these past few chapters.” He turned to Dipper almost robot-like. “W-what kind?” Dipper asked again. “MOUTH TO MOUTH.” Stan replied in a creepy sounding voice as Haruko's head, now wearing mouse ears, popped out of his mouth. “MOUSE!”

“Because I need you.” Haruko's words began echoing throughout his mind as various images of Waddles chasing a tiny version of her played. “It has to be this way Takkun. That's how life works, sometimes you're the cat and sometimes you're the mouse.”

“She-she once ssssaid something about h-how she needed-needed you Dipper.” Stan started talking almost like a glitched-out robot as he walked towards Dipper. “Or something like thaaaaat.”

“STOP IT ALREADY!” Dipper finally yelled as he hit his grunkle in the head with the baseball bat he was carrying and breaking the TV as well. When everything returned to reality, the boy realized that he was the one that did it.

Meanwhile back at the baseball field, Haruko had scored another point for the Forest Freaks knocking out Canti along the way, once again to the shock of the Gravity Falls Gnomes. “Wow dudes, even with Canti we're still getting murdered out there.” Soos declared as McGucket, Grenda and Robbie examined their fallen teammate. “She's probably doing it on purpose just to screw with us.” Wendy responded. Just then, a siren sounded as Haruko turned her gaze skyward to notice a large dirigible flying over them.

“A state of emergency has been declared in Gravity Falls.” a voice declared. “All citizens evacuate immediately. I repeat, all citizens evacuate.”

“Dipper Pines, age 12, student of Eggbert Elementary School in Piedmont, California, brother of Mabel Danielle Pines, son of Alexander and Danielle Pines, great nephew of Stanley Danley Pines, whom for thirty years imitated his brother Stanford Filbrick Pines after he was lost in another dimension for thirty years. Prefers to keep his first name a secret.” Amarao spoke as he sat with Dipper in a dark room. “A few days ago, a mysterious woman calling herself Haruko Haruhara had taken up residence at your temporary residence of 618 Gopher Road. Y'know, a baguette would've hit harder.”

“Listen sir, I didn't intend on hurting my grunkle!” Dipper claimed. “He was already knocked out when I found him and suddenly he was sitting down at a table all in one piece! He then started talking about how he's really got along with Haruko and and and-” The boy started frantically hyperventilating when Amarao put an end to it. “Simmer down kid.” the large eyebrowed government agent said. “Here, have a drink.” He gave Dipper a cup of tea and started putting in a few sugar cubes. “Heard you're not a big fan of spicy things. I can relate.”

“Like I said, I didn't intend on hitting him! I was just really freaked out. But thanks anyway.” Dipper responded taking the drink. “I've only heard stories about Stan and his criminal record, from pug trafficking, con artistry across multiple states, llamacide, helping transport of illegal goods, etc.” Amarao stated. “But Haruhara is him times eleven. She'll manipulate anyone to her whim to help her achieve her goals. But here she is as the object of affection for you and your uncle.”

“Wait, are you implying that Stan might have the hots for Haruko?!” Dipper exclaimed spitting out his drink. “But he's pushing sixty and she's like 19 or something!” The boy was briefly taken aback by this revelation until he noticed he spat out his drink all over Amarao. “I am so sorry man, let me help you clean that up!” he stuttered trying to search for a towel. “No need Pines, I got it covered.” he replied pulling a napkin from his suit and wiping off his face.

“So you refer to Haruhara by her first name. Are you two close?” Amarao asked. “I'm not really a big fan of her.” Dipper replied. “She's your batting coach, right?” his interrogator added. “Kind of.” the boy replied. “Do you like her swing?” the older man continued on. “I told you, I didn't intend on it! Haruko has nothing to do with this!” Dipper responded. “Then why? Because you were jealous?”

Dipper was too embarrassed to respond. “I've got a big question for you, did she ever mention anything about the Galaxy Space Police Brotherhood or the Pirate King Atomsk?” Amarao inquired. “Make sure you don't tell anyone about our little chat because it's very important, that includes your family as well.”

“Okay, thank you sir. I didn't really get your name.” Dipper said. “I'm Commander Amarao of the US government's Department of Interstellar Immigration. Thank you for your time boy.” he replied, but Dipper was already too distracted by his eyebrows. “Eyebrows.” he mumbled. “What was that about my eyebrows squirt?!” Amarao barked. “Nothing.”

“A state of emergency has been declared in Gravity Falls.” the voice from the blimp continued later that day over the deserted town. “All citizens evacuate immediately. No need to run like hell, please proceed in an orderly fashion.”

Dipper had arrived home to find his great uncle's dead body yet again but now Waddles started sniffing it. “What is it Waddles?” he asked the pig, who oinked in reply. “You're saying this isn't the real Grunkle Stan?” he continued. “Then where is he?”

Waddles led his master's brother to the boiler room across from Ford's bedroom, which contained an unplugged Tumbleweed Terror machine, a television, mattress and more but the item that caught their eye was the trash can which let off a familiar smell. Taking off the lid, Dipper found nothing except the shriveled up body of Stan, stripped down to his underclothes, staring right at him.

Screaming as loud as he can, Dipper rushed his uncle to the bathroom where he tossed him in the bathtub and turned on the water. “C'mon Stan, wake up wake up!” he cried. During this process, he started seeing images of Mabel being hoisted into the air by Canti on the water tower.

“Check it out everyone, I'm king of the world!” Mabel exclaimed as the Medical Machine held her high. “I always wanted to do that, thanks Canti!” Just then, Haruko zoomed on her Vespa below them, much to her surprise. “What's Haruko doing in such a rush?”

Meanwhile back at the Shack, Dipper had brought Stan back to normal after dumping a few buckets of water on him. “Oy, what just happened?” the elderly con artist woozily asked. “And what smells like a dead body?” Dipper was too busy dumping water on him to reply. “I guess I wasn't good enough for Haruko. She asked if she could use my head and I was happy to oblige, but I guess I died for a bit.” That's when the child remembered some more words Amarao said to him.

“N.O uses the left and right brain's distinct thought processes to open up an interdimensional channel capable of transporting things, sometimes from lightyears away in an instant.” he stated. “But she can't use just anyone's head, you gotta find the right one.”

“Grunkle Stan,” Dipper said to him. “I think Haruko might be using us for her own plans, and she wants my head.” Stan, continuing to pour water on himself, agreed. “You might be right, Haruko is not your ordinary houseguest.” As if they spoke of the devil, the Rickenbacker babe barged through the door on her scooter and running over the other Stan, much to the two's surprise.

“What you encountered was a high-tech mannequin that was created to look like your great uncle.” Amarao continued. “The equivalent of a vending machine. When the chips are down, few people can really swing the bat. Right now there's a satellite carrying a bomb heading straight for this town. This evacuation is pretty much pointless since nobody will survive the impact. I want you to go home and tell her, tell her to swing one more out of the park. Tell her it's a request from a hometown fan.”

“Yo.” Haruko greeted the two as Dipper picked up the fake Stan's head. “What's with this robo-Stan anyway?” he asked. “Who are you really?” After a moment of blankly staring at the two, Haruko replied rather fabulously. “I'm an illusion of your youth, the manifestation of the feelings in your adolescent heart!”

“Where did you get that crazy line, one of Soos' anime?” the lad asked again. “Anyway, there's a satellite falling from Earth's orbit that'll kill us all once it reaches here.” Just then, Ford burst into the living room as well in a panic. “Dipper, thank goodness you're still here!” he exclaimed. “Listen, we have to leave immediately because a government satellite is falling from the sky and is headed for here! I think we should all move to Ontario and become doctor-lawyer-scientists!” He then turned his attention to what's left of the robot replica of his brother. “Not even going to ask.”

“A double header takes a lot out of you.” Haruko stated. “Tell the hometown fan it's going to be expensive.” Ford was uneasy about this. “Wait, she's going to help us stop that satellite? But she might just give up and leave us all for dead!” Stan on the other hand was angered by his smarter brother's words. “Listen you stupid genius, Haruko knows her way around this stuff so if you think she's still untrustworthy, then you can just do it yourself and be the hero everyone says you are!”

“Ugh, fine.” Ford groaned turning to her. “So what do you say, reluctant partners?” he asked extending his hands. “Reluctant partners Doc Brown.” she replied shaking his hand.

“I say we file a complaint!” Kitsurubami exclaimed as she, Amarao, Powers and Trigger met at the diner. Trigger was currently on the phone speaking with the government about replacement soldiers and a new base. “No, the satellite bomb was our secret backup plan in case of dire emergency.” Amarao responded. “We can't let it go public. She really is a terror, that Raharu.”

“Raharu?” Powers wondered as his superior pulled out a picture of Mabel and Haruko wearing matching sweaters. “Haruko Raharu.” he replied. “Her plan is to penetrate us, the foreign embassy and the Medical Mechanica. That's why she made this whole thing happen.”

“And she's willing to kill hundreds just to get her way.” Trigger thought getting off the phone as they spotted Haruko & Dipper on her Vespa with Stan and Ford driving close behind. “Those poor kids.” Just then, the waitress showed up at their table opening her closed eye. “So, any of you want something?” she asked. “We'll take four coffee omelets to go please.” Kitsurubami answered.

Dipper's forehead began blinking again as his pine tree hat flew off his head. “Whoa, I think there might be another robot coming!” he cried. “Don't fret kid, Medical Mechanica is just up ahead!” Ford responded pointing towards the factory. “Why the Jekyll does it look like a giant clothes iron?” Stan added.

“Whoa!” Mabel gasped as the satellite moved closer to the town. “Hey Canti, do you think that satellite looks like the Satellite of Love?” she asked her robot companion, who just shrugged in reply before noticing a red blinking light atop Medical Mechanica, and the girl noticed it too. “Hey, that must be Dipper!” she exclaimed. “But what's he doing up there? C'mon Canti, we gotta get over there!” The machine nodded as she hopped on his shoulders and flew off.

“Isn't this where it's heading?” Dipper wondered as he sat atop the robot plant. “By my calculations, this location would take the least damage.” Ford explained examining the current location of the satellite. “Thanks for being a nerd man, now here we go!” Haruko said as she placed a cloth around Dipper's head and started pressing on his scalp. “Hey, what're you doing to me?” he groaned as she started digging around. “Just hold still!” she said continuing on with her task.

“What is she even doing?” the Stan twins said in unison. “Ha, you owe me a beer if we survive! Ha, you owe me two beers if we survive! Now you owe me three beers!” they exclaimed. “Okay, I think we should-hey, quit saying what I'm saying!” Just then, Canti came flying in with Mabel on his head. “Hey everyone, what's up?” she called as he landed before them. “Oh, we're just trying to save the town from a satellite that's going to crash and kill us all!” Ford replied.

“Hey, I didn't know boys were this sensitive here!” Haruko stated as she continued with Dipper's head. “Please, stop touching me there!” the boy replied before she began pulling out a red object. “Well what're you waitin' for, pop it already!” the Vespa woman struggled pulling on it. “If I rush, it won't pop! Please start going slow!” Dipper cried still groaning before she finally pulled out the object, revealing itself to be a Gibson Flying V. “What is that?” he asked gazing at it. “It's your 'bat'.” she replied. “Wait a minute, that's a Gibson Flying V!” Stan exclaimed. “Just like Albert King!” Ford added.

“Impressive.” Kitsurubami moaned as her nose started bleeding while the four government agents watched the event from afar. “Does Haruko really think that kid is going to save us all?” Agent Powers inquired. “Does everyone back at base have the lowdown?” Trigger spoke into his earpiece. “Positive Trigger, we have cameras all over Gravity Falls!” a female agent back at Washington stated, her nose bleeding as well. “Tracking altitude, now entering final descent!”

“Purge sequence initiate!” another bloody-nosed agent ordered as the satellite began falling apart and rocketing towards Gravity Falls, making the sky glow various colors. “It's entering the lower atmosphere!”

“It's getting closer everyone, get behind Canti!” Ford exclaimed as he, Stan and Mabel did so. “Now if you do it like I showed you, it'll be perfect.” Haruko said holding Dipper close to her. “It's okay?” he responded before they all turned to it. “Hey here it comes, keep your eye on it kid! Ready?” she exclaimed as the satellite got closer. “That boy is....” Kitsurubami exclaimed. “That kid will never pull it off!” Amarao finished her sentence. “Impact is imminent!” the woman back at Washington announced as the satellite turned into a giant hand and then immediately fell apart.

“What, but that's impossible!” Dipper exclaimed. “Haruko? Haruko!” He looked around for her but returned his attention to the giant machine headed straight for him. “It's spinning!” Powers shouted. “It's a sinker!” Trigger added. As the object, now turned into a giant sphere, got closer to Dipper, time somehow came to a complete stop followed by the sky around him shattering like glass as three figures flew down.

“Ah, I see the bearer of Atomsk's Horn is here.” the first figure wearing a red cape said. “And it's a little boy too!” the second one in a white haramaki sash added. “Who would've guessed?” the third with hair like fire exclaimed. “Wait, who are you freaks?” Ford exclaimed looking at the three. “No, that's impossible! He should be dead!” he muttered fearfully. “What're you talkin' about?” Stan asked. “IT'S DIAMOND BRANDY!” his brother screamed in horror. “Ah, at last somebody recognizes me.” Diamond Brandy pridefully announced chuckling. “And you must be the one who took my treasured mask.”

“I'll never hand over the Eyes of Heaven you heathen!” the scientist boldly stated glaring at Brandy's two new minions. “Listen to us old man, hand it over or we'll turn your flesh into a fine quiche!” the one in the haramaki sash cackled madly. “No, I think we should turn him into a fine stew.” the firehead rebutted. “Stews are for foolish mortals, I say we make him into a quiche!” his partner exclaimed. Before they could continue debating, Canti gave them what for by beating them both up. “I'm still saying quiche!”

“ENOUGH YOU TWO IDIOTS!” Brandy angrily bellowed before turning his attention to Dipper. “So you want to 'swing the bat', am I right?” he purred. “Uh, yeah.” the boy replied sheepishly. “Well then, allow me to help you. Stinger, Loggken, get over here!” The two rose up and floated over to their master, hugging each other as they began to glow. Eventually Brandy started glowing when he joined in on the hug and they all formed into a titan of insane power. “Now then, play ball.” the beast said as he flew behind the sphere and time restarted.

“SATELLITE SMASH!!!” he screamed as he pushed it closer to Dipper, who was howling in terror. “Takkun!” he finally shouted, which caused the symbol from chapter 2 to appear on Canti's screen again as well as his forehead. “Maybe when the chips are down, he's too scared to swing the bat.” Haruko said as she zipped down the building on her Vespa. “Depending on what happens here, to all the folks reading this, sayonara!” She said her goodbyes to the readers before noticing that all the lights turned on and shined incredibly brightly as Dipper struggled to hit the sphere being pushed by the fusion of Diamond Brandy, Stinger and Loggken when suddenly, his “bat” set on fire. “What?!” he exclaimed.

“It's pushing him back!” Kitsurubami shouted. “He swung the bat.” Amarao said. Dipper continued to struggle as the “bat” continued burning brightly. “Wait, is that....” the titan exclaimed as his form began to distort. “It can't be!” Just then, the sphere stopping spinning as it started pulsing. “Oh no, it's going to blow up!” Trigger exclaimed as it prepared to self-destruct. Dipper watched in horror as he prepared to meet his fate when suddenly, Haruko jumped into the air, Rickenbacker in hand and slammed it as well.

“NO.....NO!!!” the titan screamed before finally defusing, leaving Diamond Brandy to be launched into the air while Stinger and Loggken started glowing, somehow turning back into the scientists Stuart and Ken from earlier this chapter. The impact started shaking up the town something fierce, causing various small earthquakes as the sky reverted to blue and Brandy was propelled skyward, screaming along the way.

“I-I can't believe it.” Stan gasped in awe. “Dipper....” Ford added. “He finally swung the bat!” Mabel cheered as she ran out and hugged her brother. “You did it Dipper, we're all alive!” she cried before noticing that Dipper was rendered unconscious. “Think we should let him rest sweetie.” Stan said to his great-niece as he came to her side. “And maybe we should find where those two idiots should go.” he added pointing to Stuart and Ken, who were laughing wildly and hugging. “I can't believe we're still alive!” Stuart cried. “Thank you guys!” Ken thanked the Pines family. “Is there anything we can do to repay you?”

“How about we bring you back to where you belong?” Ford offered. “That'd be great! We work for the Department of Interstellar Immigration.” Stuart said.

Before anyone knew it, it was finally over. Haruko was driving back to the Mystery Shack on her Vespa with Dipper sleeping beneath her and Mabel clinging onto her back. Stan, Ford & Canti followed behind on the Stanleymobile with Stuart and Ken with them. “What'd I tell you Ford, she is pretty trustworthy.” Stan said to his brother. “Okay, you're sort of right about that, but I can't help but feel she's got bigger plans for us.” Ford said. “Diamond Brandy is now brought back to life and he knows about Dipper's horn. I think we should try and keep the kids safe from him at all costs.” The trickster didn't listen as he continued driving. “You're not even listening are you?”

“Hey, if you guys pass by a red-haired man with big eyebrows and his partners, they're with us.” Stuart said from the backseat. “In fact, they there are right now!” Ken added pointing to Amarao, Kitsurubami, Powers and Trigger standing on the side of the road. “Oh no, not those two guys.” Stan whispered. “Thankfully we wiped all their memories of your case, so we might be in the clear.” Ford responded as they exited the car.

“Greetings friendly neighborhood law enforcers!” Stan greeted them nervously. “Are these the nutty professors you're looking for?” he asked. “Yes indeed they are sir,” Powers answered. “last we saw of them, they've been brainwashed by a mad god-wannabe into becoming his minions and now, here they are.” The two scientists were happy to see their superiors again. “We really missed you guys!” Ken said as hugged Powers incredibly tight. “Please get off of me Simpson.” he groaned. “I think it looks like we need to take you two back to Washington for extensive rehabilitation.”

“We'll be back with more men, but you two are on your own from here on out. Good luck.” Trigger added as they walked away with the scientists, who waved farewell. “Thank you Ronald.” Amarao said before turning back to Stan. “I've got my eye on you Pines.” he coldly stated to the elder. Stan reacted by slowly stepping backwards before returning to the car.

As they all drove back home, Haruko looked down at Dipper before starting to laugh wildly. “Crisis report.” Amarao said. “All systems functioning online and normally. The satellite achieved escape velocity at gamma-four.” Kitsurubami replied. “Bomb neutralized, satellite en-route to galaxies unknown!”

“Drat.” Amarao grumbled as one of his eyebrows fell off, much to his companion's shock.

Meanwhile in the deepest recesses of space, the satellite drifted throughout the cosmos with Diamond Brandy still clinging on to it. “He has.....Firestarter.” he thought to himself. “He will.....BE MINE.” He cracked an evil smile despite being frozen from the cold of space, as he began concocting another plan.

Hey dudes, Soos here! Wow, only two chapters left and this'll all be over! Anyway, big shout out to a user named The Tell-Tale Man for being such a great reviewer.

Anyway, join us next time for Fooly Falls chapter 5. It's gonna be like a John Woo film, just you wait!

#gravity falls #flcl #crossover #fanfiction #fooly falls #dipper pines #mabel pines #haruko haruhara #canti #stanley pines #stanford pines #commander amarao #lt. kitsurubami #agent powers #agent trigger #diamond brandy

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thestylesproject · 7 years

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#49 Cactus Messages (Harry Styles)

So, this is different. I seriously pray you like it.

Word Count: 2,900

Summary: Harry meets a girl who gives him a cactus and leaves. But, there is more to the cactus which is sharp, strong and resistant.

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I had no idea why I was here. The world around me felt hazy and I, I just felt numb and empty. Empty yeah, that’s how I felt. It was an empty world with no emotions, and at the moment, I felt like I was giving too much of myself into it. My girlfriend broke up with me, saying she was too insecure in the relationship and that I was too much. Whatever that meant, and a week before my step -…and it just felt numb. I still was here though, I had no idea what an outing would get me. I get to at least mourn for a little while, instead of roaming like a hyper butterfly. Whatever that meant.

“C’mon Harry, just a coffee?” Jeff repeated taking a sip of his.

“Fine, yeah, coffee,” Faster I get over with this, faster I can leave. I need a week off, no a month off. I don’t have a month off.

“Excuse me,” Jeff called for someone, “A Cappuccino, please.”

“Alright, could I get you anything else as well?” I looked up at the girl. Her voice…it was so soft.

“No, that will be all, thank you,” she nodded and walked away. “Look, Harry, I am going to cancel everything for the next week. But, I would be lying if I say I can for more than that, especially with the movie coming out.”

“Yeah, I know. Give me a week first. Please,” I said. I knew I looked like shit. I couldn’t get myself to look normal. Normal was annoying me now. Everyone at home was acting normal like it happens every day. Trying to maintain calm, control…And now, that I am in London, I don’t know what to do. What can I do this time to heal? I was so lost.

“Here is your coffee, and this is the sugar,” the waitress came back and placed the coffee on my table. This was a tiny coffee shop here, not many people came here, at least during the mornings. Residential areas were usually quieter. I hated this. My mind just ran in a random tangent before coming back and being numb again. “Umm…” I looked up and met her eyes. She wanted to say something.

“Do you want a picture?” I asked, like a machine. Like a machine, Harry. Your fans have done nothing. Jeff looked up as well, about to send her away.

“Oh no, I just wanted to say…I’m sorry for your loss,” She gave a small smile, “and…here,” I put my hand forward, and she put a little cactus plant which was in a box in my hand.

“A cactus?” I looked up, and Jeff giggled. She nervously moved her legs, before straightening up.

“Yes, they are strong, they hit, don’t die and take care of themselves. They are good friends. I hope you feel better,” she nodded and walked away, leaving me to stare at this plant. I looked up, and she was back behind the counter not giving this table another look.

“Okay, what I was saying was is that I am here, Harry. To take care of everything, so you don’t worry,” Jeff continued as I heard him, my mind still looking at that cactus. He kept talking, and I tried my best to keep a straight face, drink my coffee, stay calm. He stopped when a jumpy boy and his mother walked in. Too small was this place to not notice or be interrupted when people walked in.

“Kiara,” the mother said, “he really wants to have the tea you made for him the other day,” the mother said to the waitress, and she smiled. “He has been telling me since yesterday to make the tea like you make it and I’m so lost.”

The girl giggled, “I’ll make him another one, Mrs Andrews. Would you like me to make one for you as well?” She asked. Her voice soothing as ever, “and would you like a slice of cake with it?” she looked at the boy.

“Yes yes yes!” the boy laughed as he took a seat, pulling his mother with him.

“I’d love the tea as well, Kiara. Thank you. How is your college going? Adjusting well?” She asked.

“Umm yeah, well, I noticed that it is very similar to my previous one, in my own country,” She said, walking out with a slice of cake in her hand.

“Oh really! How so?” The lady asked.

“There you go,” she said, placing the cake in front of the boy as he jumped and giving a quick kiss on his forehead. “Umm, they both kill you slowly,” saying that with a straight face, as I saw her eyes that were actually quite tired. The look left her face as soon as it came, and she smiled again.

“Are you listening to me, Harry?” Jeff called, taking my attention again. “Stay in your house for a few days if you like it. Or go back home, you can do whatever. You don’t need to ask or anything, I’ll have it arranged.”

“Thank you, Jeff, thanks a lot,” I smiled. We placed a note on the table and left by the back door, my cactus still in hand.

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I woke up to a sweet sound of an instrument I didn’t recognise. I looked at the clock, and it was 8 AM. My head still on the cushion, eyes now wide awake, I tried looking for that sound. It didn’t stop, just repeated the tune over again. It was really melodious and so calming. Searching for it in my entire room and concluding it was coming from outside, I walked out to see it coming from the cactus, that I had placed on the coffee table. I picked up to see a small slit of paper out, and the music stopped as soon as I took it out. Surprised, a small box was capable of being a music system and support a plant and gives out messages. I kept the plant back down and opened the small slit of paper. The words seemed like they were burnt into the paper.

A heart as kind as yours, a love so scarce as yours, a tear so precious as yours should always be preserved. I hope you feel well… xx K

I sat down with the note in my hands, just trying not to cry. It was hard, so hard. Death was so finite. A sentence that was never finished, it’s so unreal. But, what was happening was real, and I knew I had to be strong. Someone had to be strong and, this time I had that position. People kept visiting the house, giving condolences, saying they’re here for me. I wasn’t really worried about me though, it was my mum. She was alone now. And, I knew she won’t shift here with me. Too individualistic she is, and alone.

The week passed faster than I thought it would. I finished work here in London so I could go back to mum for a while before Jeff took me away. I didn’t leave the house. Not even once. I woke up every day to the sweet tone of the cactus, with a note, compelled myself to have a bath, exercise, eat and then work. There was a lot of work pending here in London, and I had to finish that as soon as possible.

It’s funny how people we love leave first. Is it easy to lose things that are important? xx K

My heart will not be on sale again, take it now Sir, I’m yours. xx K

Only you’re mine, everything else is yours. xx K

Some of them I didn’t understand, but they made me think about them for quite some time during the day. For those hours spent thinking, I remember being the happiest. Until the guilt of being happy came back,

Everything is sold here, my darling, please be careful. Find a safe place and fast. xx K

I wanted to go see her again, maybe thank her for this little gift which was my only source of happiness and excitement. My day started with me not looking at the phone but reading my little note. Sometimes, I let it play to just listen to the music. On the sixth day, I stepped out, and it felt like the sun was shining on me. It was in the air that said, everything is going to be fine.

Life goes on, my dear. It makes the rock turn into sand, a transition in its life, all there is to be done is move. xx K

I walked into the tiny shop, looking under the counter as I didn’t see her there.

“Hello Sir, I’m Maria, what can I get you?” a young blonde woman asked me.

For a moment, I couldn’t say anything. To say I was disappointed was not enough. I prepared my speech since I woke up this morning, trying to find the correct ways to thank her, and made sure I came at the exact time as the last to find her here on her schedule, only to not see her. “Sir? ” She repeated.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I blinked a couple of times, trying to remove the obvious-disappointed look on my face. “Hello.” I looked around the tiny shop again.

“Hello Sir,” She repeated, frowning and looking at the older lady working with her. Two girls sitting in the shop, giggled trying to take my picture, and I nodded towards them, trying to make my puppy face not so obvious.

“I was here last week, and there was this other girl. Um, long black here, till here…” I indicated to my waist, “Um, real soft voice, um really big eyes…she was the only one here that day…” I said as they looked at each other.

“Is there a problem with her, Sir?” The older lady asked.

“Oh, she works here. Thank god!” I sighed, thanking the Lord. “No, there is no problem, I wanted to thank her actually, will she be coming to work soon or?” I asked.

“Oh um, Kiara would not be joining us again.” The younger girl, Maria looked at me with pity.

“Oh, why not?” I asked.

“College students, Sir. They’re never here for too long. She got her internship so, the last week was her last,” the older lady said, putting the cake inside the showcase.

“Oh, um is there any way I can contact her? She did something really kind, and I have to thank her,” I looked at the younger girl.

“I’m sorry, we don’t hand out information like this,” The older lady gave me a smile.

“Please, I swear, I don’t mean to hurt her in any way-”

“It’s just our policy, Sir.” She repeated.

My shoulders dropped as I felt so sad, all of a sudden, “I’ll have an Espresso, please,” I said, handing out a bill.

I sat down near the window, just cursing myself not showing up the next day to thank her. It started raining outside, and I placed my finger on the droplets of water running down. I couldn’t control anything, “Your Espresso, Sir.” Maria placed the cup on my table, as I straightened up. “Your face becomes like a little child when you don’t get your things?” She questioned, “I’m a big fan of yours too, Sir. Check under the plate,” She gave me a big smile and unsuspicious, went behind the counter.

KIARA – +44 xxx xxx xxx9

I quickly slipped the paper under my pocket and nodded once, thanking her. The old woman looked at me and frowned, and I picked up my cup, “Amazing coffee!” and Maria laughed. I didn’t wait for the rain to stop and ran to the car. Locking myself in, I carefully dialled her number. It rang and rang…and rang, but no one picked up. I frowned, but before I dial again, Jeff called.

“You entered a coffee shop asking bewildered for a girl?” He said.

“Hi, bewildered? I was not bewildered! Wait, how did you find out?” It had only just happened.

“Some girl posted it on Tumblr, with a picture of your back and the caption of you looking for a girl, bewildered! Harry!” I completely forgot about those girls in the shop.

“Look, it’s all okay now. I did, and now, I’m out. I was not bewildered at all, I promise,” I told him. And he talked about how I should have been a little more careful because, rumours when it came to me, didn’t die so fast. “I will, I will, I’m sorry.” We talked for a bit, and then, he kept the phone. I shook my head, seeing those girls cross by in front of my car in the rain. Rolling my eyes, I tried the number again. No one picked up.

Okay, one last time before you look like a bewildered creep. She picked up, “Okay, let me talk. I know you called me twice, and I I didn’t pick up only because I’m not in London and back home. This call will charge you loads so I would prefer you text to save you money, okay?” Her voice was as soft, as I remembered it to be. A little hurried, excited at the moment, but the same.

“I think, I will be able to afford it,” I said, giggling a bit.

“Um, who is this?” she asked, with a straight voice.

“Oh, yeah Hi!” I said, trying to make my monotone voice sound a little bit excited.

“Hi…” Her voice wavered.

“I’m Harry?” why was I questioning it? “I came to the coffee shop you worked at last week, and you gave me the um, cactus?”

“Mr Styles…” I could hear her getting a bit nervous, her breathing increased. “How did you get my number?” She asked her voice back to the calm.

“Oh, Maria gave it to me, very nice girl,” I said.

“Oh okay, how can I help you, sir?” she asked.

“Please call me Harry. I’m a friend. Um, I wanted to thank you for um, the plant…” My entire preparation of the speech was ruined just by hearing her voice. “I had a big thank you speech ready,” I said after a while, “it’s all wiped out from my head, now.”

“You’re welcome, Harry.”

“Um,” Why was I so nervous? “Can I meet you in person? Thank you…like in person?”

“Oh, so I’m back home for the next two weeks. Will be back in London on the 24th. I don’t know where would you be then…” she said.

“I’ll make it. Can I keep talking to you?” I asked. Why was I asking this?

“Like right now?” She asked.

“Um, generally...yeah generally.” I faltered.

“Why, Mr Styles?” She giggled.

I smirked, she was teasing me now, but then I just smiled to myself, leaning my head on the head rest. “You seem like safe space,” I said, quoting her notes.

“I see…” I could hear her smiling if that was possible. “We can keep talking…generally…Harry,” she said.

“Alright, I’ll shift to texting?” I asked.

“Um yeah, okay. Were you inside the coffee shop looking for me bewildered?” She asked, chuckling.

“How did you find out?” I asked, sitting up.

“It’s on Twitter,” she laughed.

“I was not bewildered,” I explained.

“It’s okay, I’ll keep our conversations to myself, don’t worry.”

“I was really not bewildered…” I tried again.

“Also,” She said ignoring it. “If you’d like the messages to continue,” She paused.

“Yes! Yes, I would,” I almost shouted.

She laughed, “Okay, so where are you?”

“Still sitting in my car, near the café, why?”

“Oh, splendid! So, there is a little stationary shop right in the block, can you see it?” She asked, and I confirmed. “So, you can go in there and buy papersinalittlebottle sheets. They are a tiny bunch of papers, which you’ll have to replace in the box. One set lasts two weeks only...”

“How do the messages appear?” I asked. “Aren’t they prewritten?”

“No, that’s a secret Mr Styles.” She laughed. “You’ll just have to replace the set. Open the screw and just stack the papers, okay?”

“Okay…I’ll buy ‘em right now.”

“Okay,” she giggled, “my mother’s calling Harry, I’ll have to go. Talk to you soon?”

“Yes, I will text…okay?”

“Yes okay..”

“Alright okay bye..”

“Bye Harry,”

“Bye Kiara…” And she cut the call.

It was still raining, but I stepped out and ran towards the stationary shop. “Hi, can I get the papersinalittlebottle sheets, please?” I asked the old man.

“Oh, more of Kiara’s messages?” He laughed, kindly. Were there more like me? “How many would you like?” He took out a huge packet which had little packets of those sheets. “One or two? There are 14 sheets in this little packet.”

“I’ll buy two of the whole bunch.”

“Son, two packets will last you a year, are you sure you want them all?” He asked, shocked.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Some love stories are meant to be a little different.

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Please tell me what you thought about the imagine. I’ll do the messages thing for you, if you like?

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