#“Hair cut near me Napa” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winterscaptain · 4 years ago

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figure it out.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this has been in my wips for literal months as i’ve done my best to get it just right for yall. i hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think! There’s an addendum to this one, and i’m already working on it, but we��ll see a few more things before that’s ready :)

words: 3.5k warnings: sex mention, sex implication, language

summary: “love is like a backache. it doesn’t show up on an x-ray, but you know it’s there.” - george burns. au!january 2012.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You roll over in bed when your alarm goes off, but you don’t get very far. Aaron throws an arm over you and pulls you back to him with a grumble.

You huff a laugh and wiggle up against him. It’s all a tease and you both know it - there isn’t any time to get up to anything fun before work, but it’s far too entertaining to rile him up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice escapes his lips between your shoulder blades and you can feel his smile.

“Oh, trust me, babe. I can finish.”

He hums, his smile breaking out into something real. “I noticed.”

+++

When the two of you finally make it out of bed (surprisingly still on time), you grab one of Aaron’s scarves and a hat on your way out. It’s your turn to drop Jack at school today on your way into the office, and the task serves two purposes.

The first? It’s nice to spend time with Jack, just the two of you, when it’s your turn and you’re not on a case. It’s the same for Aaron, who always leaves a little earlier so he and Jack can sit down somewhere and have breakfast together.

The second is pure logistics. You two can’t show up to work in the same car at the same time, so a convenient excuse to separate and stagger your arrivals is welcome.

“Really?”

Aaron’s question stops you at the threshold and you look over your shoulder “What?”

“My hat? My scarf?”

It’s almost too tempting to cave when he’s looking at you like that - his tie hanging around his neck, shirt untucked, arms crossed, and playful frown hiding a smile.

“Yeah. It’s warm and it’s here and we’re late.”

Jack squints up at you and says, “We’re not late.”

“You’re not late.”

The observations come within split seconds of each other and you laugh.

“Fine. Not late, but warm. And you have more hats.” You scamper back into the house to plant a kiss on his lips, smoothing the hair at his temples.

Jack’s laughter is the underscore to your next quip. “You’re very handsome and I’m sure you’re very smart so you can figure it out.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Jack chirps. “Figure it out.”

He has nothing to say to your retreating forms as he catches a glimpse of your smile through the crack in the closing door.

+++

Emily and Spencer are away at a conference-book-signing thing, so it’s just the five of you and Penelope this morning. You’d normally figure that would be Rossi’s purview, but apparently -

“My book-signing days have been put on hold indefinitely in favor of -”

“ - He’s back.” Garcia interrupts, tossing case files at all of you. The conversation is cut short and you suppress a smile. “The Marin headlands last night.”

You can see Aaron’s lips pull as well.

It’s the little things.

Penelope gestures with the notes and crime scene photos appear on the screen. “David Atley and Nicole Puli, both 24, both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in their vehicle-- wait for it--” She clicks again and a familiar sigil appears.

“The Zodiac?” Morgan’s shock is almost sardonic in its delivery.

Rossi snorts. “No way.”

“Come on,” Derek says, amused, while JJ chimes in as well.

“It's gotta be the 2.0 version.”

While neither of you speak, you share a glance with Aaron. You’re kidding.

He only raises his eyebrows for a split second and shrugs.

There’s some part of you a little paranoid that you’re the most obvious couple to exist in the history of the universe. Sure, the team has been teasing you about your friendship for years, the will-the-won’t-they of it all, but now that it’s real you’re almost terrified that they know everything.

Thus, the overcompensation has been wretched. You and Aaron barely look at each other in the field if you can help it (which you usually can’t) and he tends to put you with Derek more often than not.

In truth, the others have noticed, but are far too interested in the spectacle to say anything. Emily’s almost certain the two of you have slept together, and Dave may or may not have suggested the possibility of a secret marriage during your period of suspension.

However far-fetched and ridiculous their theories, they know you two well enough to know that something happened. The tension is gone.

Derek almost finds himself missing the tension. There hasn’t been much to tease you about lately in its absence.

“Yeah, you would think so, except for the crazy similarities in the MO.” Penelope clicks through the photos as she talks.

“I'm talking same victimology, same geography. And,” she adds. “Two souvenirs were left at the crime scene.” She clicks once more and stands back for the full effect.

“He left a photo?” Rossi asks.

She hums in the affirmative. “Local police say that is Marcia Miller. She was found near Napa in 1971. Strongly suspected that she was a victim of the Zodiac, but police never confirmed it and they didn't publicize the case.”

Morgan’s still squinting at the screen. “So the Zodiac took this photo at the killing and then saved it all these years?”

“The Zodiac's last confirmed victim was the cabdriver Paul Stine,” Dave notes devolving into a conversation about The Zodiac, his timeline, his signature.

It’s nothing new - The Zodiac Killer’s case details are common knowledge in your line of work, nevermind the sheer number of copycats that try their hand at the highly-ritualistic murders before inevitably getting arrested.

There’s a reason this guy hasn’t been caught in forty years.

After a few minutes of bouncing between you all, Hotch pushes back from the table and stands. “Have Reid and Prentiss meet us in San Francisco. Wheels up in 30.”

He heads straight to his office to collect his things and you swing in by the tips of your fingers for just a second. “You wanna call Jess or do you want me to?”

In the middle of throwing files in his briefcase, he doesn’t look up when he answers. “Can you, please? I was supposed to meet with Strauss this afternoon and need to stop by her office before wheels up.”

You smile at him, tapping the door frame twice. “You got it.”

+++

It’s boots on the ground right away when you land in San Francisco. You drive to the crime scene with Aaron in the passenger seat beside you and JJ in the back. The radio’s on, and you sing under your breath, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way up to the crime scene.

Before you get to the local FBI agents, JJ catches you by the sleeve. “It’s nice to have music in the car again.”

You just smile at her. Aaron looks a little puzzled.

The three of you wipe the looks off your faces by the time you get to Agent Lynn.

+++

“What did JJ mean?” Aaron asks you.

The two of you are alone for the time being, posted up in the conference room with the old Zodiac case files. You look up. “Hmm?”

“What did she mean when she mentioned the music earlier?”

“Oh.” A little flush of embarrassment shoots down your gut. “Derek pointed out to me last summer that I didn’t play any music in the car.”

...while you were gone is the thing you don’t say, but he knows that’s what you mean.

“I didn’t really notice.” You shrug to cover your fib. “I guess I’ve reacquainted myself with the radio in the last couple of weeks.”

Aaron hums, returning to his work. Something’s off, but you’re sure it’ll come up later.

+++

“You don’t think it’s really him, do you?” You ask, unbuttoning your shirt and throwing your pajamas on.

Surprisingly, this case seems to be one of those that allows for sleep at regular hours. For that, you’re grateful. It’s much harder to find time to wind down with Aaron at the end of the day when you’re all forced to sleep in shifts.

Aaron shakes his head, “No, I think Reid’s right. We’re looking at a particularly sophisticated copycat.”

“Isn’t that kind of worse?” Hopping up on your bed, you curl up and look at him over your nose - a clear invitation to join you.

With a huff down his nose and a little smile, he flops down beside you and props his chin on his arms over your belly. “Could be. Luckily, we have Reid.”

You almost think he’s going to say something else, but he gets that pensive look on his face again.

“What?”

With a sigh, he says, “I’m just thinking about what JJ said.”

“Oh, Aaron -”

He doesn’t let you finish. It’s probably a good thing. You didn’t know what you wanted to say anyway.

“I knew how hard it was on me, but I’m realizing more and more how hard it was on you, too.” He shakes his head. “I feel ...I don’t know. I feel like I should have known better… or something.”

Winding your fingers in his hair, you sit in silence for a moment. He doesn’t have anything more to say and eventually he crawls up your body and settles in under your arm, his head on your chest and legs wound between yours.

Sometimes, you’ve found, he likes to feel small.

“You’re safe and you’re home. That’s what matters.” You kiss the top of his head. “And I love you.”

He hums, arcing into your touch and wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you.”

+++

You spend much of the next day chasing Spencer around the city, keeping notes handy (for yourself, not for him - he doesn't need them) and reporting back on his discoveries to the team like some kind of overwrought and hyper-trained secretary.

Stepping off to the side, you answer a call from Aaron.

“Hit your limit yet?”

You look over at Spencer, who’s flipping through a newspaper like a man on a mission. “It’s actually kind of entertaining.”

And that’s actually true. Watching Spencer push the limits of his intelligence is always a treat - it happens so rarely you almost forget how much you enjoy it every time.

He huffs into the phone. “Hang in there. We’ll all meet back at the precinct once Reid’s done -”

“Doing magic?”

“Exactly. Keep me posted.” There’s a pause. It’s an odd little habit you two developed in the field to leave space for the words you can’t say in front of the others.

I love you.

“Me too.”

+++

You’re almost asleep when a sliver of yellow light shoots across your room, promptly disappearing as the door to the hallway closes.

He pads across the room and slips under the covers. “Hi.”

A little smile crosses your face as you roll over to face him. “Hi.”

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on you and he’s half on top of you as he captures your lips.

Needless to say, the lack of sleep is worth it.

+++

Emily, long after she and Aaron are the only ones left in the precinct conference room, squints as she notices something right under his collar.

He’s already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, no longer standing on ceremony now that all the local police have retired and the rest of the team gone up to their hotel rooms. There’s not much to do, but the compulsion to get ahead for tomorrow is one neither one of them can shake.

What Aaron failed to remember when executing his wardrobe adjustment was the rather...spirited romp in your room the night prior. The little purple swatches painted on his skin just under the line of his collar stood out stark against the crisp lines of his dress shirt.

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell the rest of the team would find anything he left on you last night.

Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out a tube of concealer and a powder compact. Though he’s more olive-toned than she is, it’ll be good enough in a pinch. “Hey, Hotch.”

He looks at her over his nose, his eyes tired.

“You might want this for tomorrow morning.” She pushes the crisis control kit across the table to him, but he only frowns and deepens his squint.

By way of explanation, she reaches across the table and presses the tip of her finger into one of the visible bruises in the hollow of his throat. He flinches, freezes, and then immediately drops his head into his hands.

It’s easy to say Emily is amused in the extreme. “Those look...really fresh.”

He shakes his head, insisting as he picks up a file at random, “They’re from before we left.”

It’s only because it’s Emily that he’s even humoring this conversation.

“No they’re not.” She sticks her tongue firmly in her cheek. “These ones are though.” She points at yellowing marks on his collarbone and he smacks her hands away.

“And I know what fresh hickies look like, Hotch. Those are fresh fresh. Like, last night fresh. And we’ve been here for four days.” She frowns, tracking back through the day. “When on earth would you have time to -”

A series of images flash through her head, random wayward connections flashing together in an alarmingly clear picture.

You, avoiding her at the office back in September with quickly-covered marks painted across your neck.

You, flirting with Sean and having way too much fun doing it, looking over his shoulder at ...someone else.

Hotch, in a perpetually good mood (for him, anyway, and despite looking ill-slept) for the last five months.

The way the mistletoe kiss at Dave’s Christmas party looked way too easy, too familiar.

And now, the obvious indicators that Hotch is not only getting it, he’s getting it good.

If he got those last night…

Wait.

Their hotel rooms are right next to …

Oh my God.

Hotch watches the realization flash across Emily’s face, and he knows you’re both busted. Instead of losing her shit like he expected, Emily just leans back in her chair - smug.

“So. Are you still Not the Boyfriend, or has there been an update?”

He sighs.

The corner of her mouth tips up. “How long?”

“For which part? The not-boyfriend part, the boyfriend part, or this part?” He gestures vaguely to the space behind his tie, and Emily snorts.

“Just spill it.”

Holding up a finger, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing the first number on his speed dial.

You’re hardly asleep, sitting up in bed waiting for him with a case file in your lap, when you get the call. You’re not sure who’s listening, so a “Hey, Hotch. What’s up?” will have to do.

“Emily knows.”

You straighten. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows.”

There’s a scramble, and suddenly Emily’s on the other end of the phone. “He’s got very questionable and very fresh bruises just under his collar. Care to explain?”

There’s another shuffle.

“Ignore her,” Aaron says. With a hand pressed to your forehead, you understand the question implicit in his phone call.

“Just tell her. It’s basically her fault, anyways. If she hadn’t ditched it then we’d have our heads up our asses for another five years.”

“Alright,” then, after a second of realizing you don’t sound sleepy at all, “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. Emily can only look on with amusement, gleeful in the extreme. “You know that’s not what I mean. Go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” You reluctantly close the casefile and put him on speaker so he can hear the light click off. “I’m going to sleep.” Then, “I love you. Come up soon.”

“Okay.” He shoots a glance at Emily. Because he’ll never hear the end of it anyway, more ammo won’t hurt at this point. “I love you too. Now, really. Go to slee -”

You hang up on him. He double-takes at his phone for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket.

He’s met with Emily’s surprisingly moved eyes. “You’re...okay.”

What she means is, You’re happy.

He knows.

He nods. “I’m okay.”

She puts her files down and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “Tell me.”

So, he does.

He tells her about the way you stuck to him like glue through the divorce, the way you wiggled your way into Haley’s heart, captured the love of his son, and earned the trust of his entire family.

He tells her what Haley said in the hospital, the tenacious care you showed his unyielding and unwilling ass when he was healing, the way your grief soothed his in the wake of Haley’s loss.

He tells her about the moments of euphoria in the years of want and doubt and fear.

He tells Emily about the day she died, how there was nothing more painful than that necessary lie. He tells her how easy it was to lie to the others, how it ripped him in half to lie to you.

He tells her about the day he left for Pakistan, about the fight the night before, the kiss he pressed to your cheek on the tarmac, the endless, wretched nights missing you in the desert.

He tells her about the fight when he finally came home, skims over the following days, jumps and meanders around to Christmas, to moving in, to the bliss that now seems to follow him wherever he goes.

Emily watches the smile that plays at his mouth when he talks about you, the softness in his eyes as recalls the look on your face and the words you said and the way you are with Jack. There’s a kind of peace in him that she’s never really seen before.

Maybe, she imagines, it was there before she met him (the second time). Maybe this peace existed with Haley. Maybe this is the most she’s ever heard him speak at once. Maybe it makes her smile.

Maybe this peace is what his love looks like.

If that’s the case, she thinks, you are very lucky indeed.

It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, but at some point he stops talking.

“Hotch?”

He looks over at her, the softness lingering in his eyes.

“I’m really happy for you.”

His lips twitch. “Thanks.”

“And you know it’s my God-given right to tell everyone else once this case is over, right?”

+++

You actually are asleep by the time Aaron gets back to the hotel. He leans against the wall in the dark with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the peace before the inevitable shitshow.

He crosses the room and crouches at your side, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You stir, sleepy noises leaving your throat as your eyes crack open.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

You smile a little and close your eyes again. “How’d she take it?”

“Remarkably well.” He kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No,” you whine, drawn-out and slurred. “Don’t leave. Stay. I set an alarm.”

With a resigned sigh, he strips and slides into bed behind you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close.

+++

You and Aaron sit on proverbial pins and needles for the rest of the case, but Emily keeps her word. The only indication of her knowledge came the morning after her chat with Aaron, when she pulled you to her and hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe.

She seizes her moment on the plane, about halfway home.

“Derek, you owe me fifty bucks.”

She hardly looks up from her book as she speaks.

He takes off his headphones and wrinkles his brow. “What?”

She repeats herself, slower, as if she was speaking to a child. “You. Owe. Me. Fifty. Bucks.”

“...Why?”

Emily finally looks up from her book to pointedly stare at you and Aaron, seated next to each other and sharing a bag of Goldfish you stole from Jack’s snack drawer. You’re both reading from the same file, absently reaching for crackers as you go along.

Derek’s confusion continues to smother his face until it finally clicks in.

He steals a page from Reid’s notebook and balls it up, tossing it across the plane and breaking your concentration. You look up, only a little startled, to find a face-splitting grin blinding you across the cabin.

Derek’s small ruckus has drawn the attention of the rest of the team - well, all except JJ, who’s fast asleep on the couch.

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief as money exchanges hands. You’re not quite sure what the bet was, but Emily seems to have won handily.

Aaron takes your hand under the table, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn’t.

Everyone simply returns to their tasks, little smiles on their faces.

+++

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im14andivebeen14foramonth · 4 years ago

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The Parent Trap AU Chapter Two: Happy Campers

(I would quickly like to say that I'm so so so very sorry it took this long adhd is a real bitch sometimes)

Amazinggggg art by @sanderssidestrash27 !!!!!

Summary: Almost twelve years later, separated at birth twins Roman and Remus both end up at the same Camp Sanders. What chaos will ensue those short eight weeks?

~~~

11 years and 9 months later

The sounds of screeching tires filled the air as another bus pulled up. Contained in it’s heavy metal doors were children, all of them waiting eagerly and excitedly to get started on the day ahead of them. The doors opened, and out ran at least thirty of them all jumping out and running around the open area. One after another, the bright yellow vehicles pulled up under the ‘Camp Sanders’ sign and besides the camp counselors, who were all grabbing bags and waving at the new campers. All of the campers were giddy as they found other kids, new and old, to stand and congregate with while they awaited instructions. Some were more excited than others. Phrases like, “Wow, this place is so big!” And, “I don’t have any signal!What am I supposed to do all summer?!” Were thrown around as kids and campers alike tried to sort through all of the madness. As more and more kids joined in the clearing out in the woods, a voice tried to ring out above everyone else’s.

“Attention campers! May I please have your attention! Over here!” The voice yelled through a megaphone. “I’m head of the camp,Mr. Leo, Now if everyone could partner up with one or more other campers, doesn’t matter who, I’m going to pass this over to my cousin and right hand man, Gavin! He’ll be calling out your name and cabin so everyone can get situated, so make sure you listen up! Now, we have a big first day of camp ahead of us, so let's hurry along. Come to me, Gavin, or any of the other camp counselors if you need any help or assistance. Thank you!" With that, Leo handed the mega phone over to Gavin, who immediately started calling names and cabins, to help the other counselors throw luggage into a big pile near the grass.

Among this pile, however, happened to be one particularly happy camper. As another bag was thrown in, the head of the new eleven (twelve, he would strongly argue if you mentioned it) young camper. His usually messy, shaggy brown hair was thrown around even more than usual. He brought a hand up to his forehead, raking his hair with his finger to reveal light brown eyes and bright freckles that stood out in the morning sun. The boy let out a humph, cracking his knuckles. He dove back into the pile in search of his bag that'd he'd been looking for for at least five minutes now. He peeped around the pile a few times, before finally spotting the light green duffel bag.

"Yes!" He exclaimed, running to the other side of the pile to grab it. The only problem with that plan, however, was that the bag appeared to be stuck. Very stuck. He tugged the bag left and right, up and down, all over the place. But no matter which way he pulled, the bag remained deep in the pile. He huffed again before raising his right leg and kicking the pile in frustration.

"Need some help?" An unfamiliar voice called out from behind him. He turned around to see a boy about his age standing with his hands on hips and wearing a smile.

"Sure do!" He said, mood immediately changed. He lifted his sparkly green sunglasses to watch the other boy walk towards the pile. He tugged at the bag, once, twice, before releasing the bag without much effort. Once it was retrieved, the boy handed him the bag and came to stand in front of him.

"Thanks!" He said, slugging it over his shoulder.

"No problem. You must be new here, though. Me, I've been going through that pile since I was seven. It's easy now. My name's Terrence by the way." Terrence stuck out his hand towards the other bot with a friendly grin. He slapped it hard before shaking it fast and hard, and, probably, just a little too long, but Terrence didn't seem to mind.

"Hiya! I'm Remus!" He said, grinning from ear to ear. He was always happy to make a new friend.

Terrence looked down at Remus's duffel before looking shocked.

"Wow! You're from California?" He asked.

"California?" A passing by camper chimed in. "That's so cool!"

"Do you live in Hollywood?" Terrence piped back in.

"Do you know any celebrities?" Asked the new camper.

"No guys, I wish though!" Remus said with a laugh. "I've never even been to Hollywood! I live in Northern California in Napa next to a vineyard." The other two campers looked confused when he said that. "It's like, a whole field of grapes that you crush up and make wine with. People in Italy even step on the grapes with their own feet! Like, how cool is that?! That's what me and my dad do, we make wine! Well, we don't get to step on grapes though, I wish. I still step on them though lot when my Dad's not looking but that's only the really bad grapes that Dad says are too bitter to make wine with. And then I eat a lot of the other grapes when he's also not looking. But yeah, that's what a vineyard is!"

"Oh, that's super cool!" Terrence laughed.

"Not as cool as Hollywood though," the other camper said. The three of them burst out laughing in agreement.

"Parker, Remus!" Gavin called out, momentarily ending the three boys laughter. Remus raised his hand over to the counselor. "Arapahio."

"Hey, me too!"

"Same too!"

"Awesome!" Remus said. They all picked up their bags and started off towards their cabin. On their way there, Remus asked, "Do you guys know how to play poker?" The others shook their heads. "Damn. Bummer. Hey, by any chance, how much money did you guys bring with you to camp?"

~~~

Honk! Honk Honk!

"Woah, who is in there?" A camper called out.

"Must be someone famous or something," another camper said.

All eyes turned to the black car as it pulled up after a few buses. Many campers gasped and whispered as they noticed it was a limo. As the car came to a stop, a man stepped out from the backseat. He looked around for a moment before adjusting the cuffs of his black suit and smoothing out the rest of it at his torso. With one last glance at the rest of the camp, he stepped to the side and reached his hand out towards the inside of the car. A hand came out from the interior and placed itself in his hand, grabbing it lightly. Seconds later, feet donned in shiny black loafers popped out and landed on the soft dirt.

The young boy was wearing a bright yet shirt, ironed and tucked into his green shorts. The sleeves of the shirt were cut short, revealing his tanned arms. The best thing he wore that day, however, was the bright grin across his face as he looked at the camp for the first time. His freckles stood out in the summer sun, and his eyes were bright with wonder. The other campers looked away as the moment of curiosity passed, but the boy couldn't help but keep looking out at the rest of them.

"Well, Roman, here we are. Camp Sanders for boys," the man said. "Were traveled here all the way from London for this?"

The boy, Roman, said, "I think it's quite charming, don't you think?" As he spoke, a bee buzzed on by, causing the formal attired man to try and swat it away.

"Not quite the word I would use to describe it," he laughed. "Now, let's review the list your mother made, shall we? Now let's see, hmmm; Vitamins?"

"Check."

"Minerals?"

"Check."

"List of daily fruits and vegetables?"

"Double check check." The man looked up from the list to eye Roman, confused. Roman laughed, then clarified, "A check for the fruits and a check for the veggies."

"Ah, yes, right. Okay, sunblock, bug repellent, chapstick, stationary, stamps. And photographs of your mother, grandfather, and who of course! Me, your glorious, amazing, trusty butler!"

Roman couldn't help but laugh at that part. "All packed up, I think!" The butler grinned, slipping the small notebook back into his interior suit jacket pocket.

"Oh and a, one more thing! Here’s a little gift from your grandfather, can't forget this! A brand new deck of playing cards." He glanced back and forth playfully, holding up the cards to Roman. "Maybe there will actually be somebody on this continent who can beat you at poker."

"Well, I highly doubt it, but I'll let you know if that every happens. Thank you. And thank you for bringing me all the way over here, Thomas."

Thomas made a face looking close to tears. He bent down and clasped the small boy in a tight hug.

"Remember now, Roman, if you change your mind at all, if you want me to come here and pick you up at any point and time, I'm only one phone call away."

"Thank you, Thomas, really, but I'm sure I'll be fine. Really Thomas, I will." He paused, smiling and taking a deep breath. "See you in eight weeks, Thomas old pal."

"Oh geez, look at me. I miss you already. Prince of my heart," Thomas said. He held out his right hand and Roman grinned, taking it in his own and shaking it. The two clapped their hands up and down, back and forth, even stacking them a few times and grinning all the while. They excitedly turned and jumped around, bumping their butts two times. They got close to each other, Thimas bending down and Roman going on his tippy toes as they made a weird face and wiggled their finger under their chins. Finally, they circled each other, grabbing their hands and shaking them one last time, finished with their signature secret handshake. Thomas lightly brought his hands to rest on Roman's upper arms before kissing him gently on the crown of his head sweetly.

"Have fun, Roman," he said.

"I will, Thomas." And with that, Thomas walked off back towards the limo. He stopped at the door to turn and smally wave, calling out a 'Toodle-oo' which Roman said back in return.

Thomas opened up the car door and slid into the seat. "Airport, please." Thomas closed the door, and the limo slowly started off. Thomas looked back through the window, smiling and waving at Roman, the car soon so far in the distance that Roman couldn't even see Thomas's sad smile anymore.

~~~

The mess hall of the camp was filled to the brim with young boys of all ages as they ate breakfast. Pictures of former 'Camp Sanders' members and trophies from years past were displayed all around the hall. On the speakers, 'Top of the World' by Shonen Knife blared, not that many could hear it over the voices of the campers. Some people were still in line getting their food, while others sat at the many tables, talking and playing games like avocado and Whisper Down the Lane. Soon, Remus and his new friends Terrence and Camden all ran into the mess hall and to the food line. Along the way, they almost ran into a counselor, who had to tell the three to slow down and stop running. The three boys grinned and mumbled their apologies before speed walking as fast as they could (no not running, the boys would argue, just quickly speed walking) into the end of the line.

"You have to try some, it's amazing!" Someone said, handing Roman a sweet looking dessert. He lifted it up and smelt it, letting out an mmm before giggling and putting one on his tray.

"I'll save you a seat Roman, 'kay?"

"Thanks!" Roman replied, turning back to the food. Behind him, Remus walked up, the two both reaching for the same bowl of peaches at the same time. Roman was about to look up at the other boy, before Leo came in between them

"Sorry, 'scuse me boys. I've just gotta grab some strawberries. How about you, do you want any?" He asked, turning to Remus.

"Oh thanks,but I can't, I'm allergic," said Remus with a smile.

"Aw man, what a bummer," Leo replied as Remus walked off towards his seat. "How about you, do you want any strawberries?" He asked, glancing at Roman.

Roman said, "Oh, I'd love some, but I can't, I'm allergic."

"Right, right, allergic, my bad. You just told me that-" he looked over to where Remus has previously been standing and then back to Roman, doing it a few times out of shock. "You-but you were,-you were just over three-hole did you get over there?" Leo stopped and shook his head, chuckling. "Well, bad memory I guess. Besides, it's only the first day of camp I'm sure I'll get it straight soon enough." Roman awkwardly but politely smiled, walking away and to his friends at his table. Leo looked back over to where Roman was standing mouth open and ready to say something, before noticing that the boy was gone yet again. "Now where did he disappear to?"

Taglist: @sanderssidestrash27 @dew-drop-of-honey @ab-artist @iinyxtello @safesandersides @yep-another-fander @savetheupholstery

#gmos nook #parent trap au #roman sanders #remus sanders #sanders sides #my writing

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electronicgrowth · 5 years ago

Text

Guardian Angel: Chapter 6

We’re getting in to where we overlap with the movie a bit. So, spoilers. I think we’re getting close to the end here friends.

WC: 2308

Warnings: talks of Plan B, police, major spoilers

One of the first things I did when I got back to San Francisco was stop by the pharmacy to get Plan B. On the plane I realized that now wasn’t the time for a baby.

Ethan was irate that I went back to Massachusetts so close to the wedding, he was also angry that I didn’t tell him. I had to remind him that I was an adult. I just proceeded to help Maya with wedding details.

Ethan and Maya got married at a hilltop winery in Napa Valley. Just family and close friends. It was a beautiful wedding. Anyone with eyes could see that Maya and Ethan were ridiculously in love. I couldn’t help think of Ransom. The last time I had seen him, he had promised me this kind of life. The marriage, the kids. I resolved to call him tomorrow.

During the reception I received several calls from a number I didn’t recognize, although the area code was a Boston one. Finally after the ninth call I answered.

“Hello?” I said, stepping outside away from the festivities.

“Leah?” The voice on the other end asked. It was a woman’s voice.

“Yes, this is Leah,” I answered.

“Leah, it’s Linda Drysdale. Ransom’s mother,” she said.

“Oh, Linda. Hi,” I awkwardly uttered.

“Hi, sweetie,” she said. What? Sweetie? Had this woman ever called me sweetie? The last time she had seen me I was getting called a whore.

“Is everything okay, Linda?” I asked.

“Actually, no,” she answered, “I need you to come back to Massachusetts. Ransom’s been arrested. And we need you as a character witness.”

“Oh god. Okay. Arrested for what?” I asked.

“We can talk about everything when you get back here,” she answered.

“Um, I’m at my brother’s wedding. But I can fly out tomorrow is that good?” I said.

“That’s fine honey,” Linda sighed, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Have a good night,” I murmured before ending the call.

The next morning I pack all my stuff and flew back to Massachusetts. I didn’t tell Ethan and Maya any specifics. But I promised to call and text.

I landed in Boston that afternoon and got a car to Ransom’s house. There were more cars in the driveway than I had ever seen. Ransom’s car wasn’t there though. I let myself in this time. Ransom was sitting in the living room surrounded by Linda, Richard, and three men I had never seen before. When I barged in, everyone turned to look at me.

“Leah, dear,” Linda smiled walking toward me, “I hardly recognized you. Your hair looks great that color.” She pulled me into a stiff hug and kissed my cheek. I wasn’t used to this level of affection from Linda, but returned the hug nevertheless.

“Leah, these are Ransom’s lawyers, Kenneth Hill, Eric Musgraves, and Rodney Phillips. Gentlemen, this is Leah Becker, Ransom’s girlfriend,” Richard said.

I awkward waved from where I stood next to Linda near the doorway. I didn’t realize I still held the title of girlfriend.

“Ransom, why don’t you help Leah with her luggage?” Linda scolded. This prompted Ransom to look at me for the first time since I had arrived. He rolled his eyes at his mother, but stood and grabbed my suitcase with one hand, he grabbed my hand in his other. He hauled the suitcase and me back to his bedroom. I could feel all the eyes on me. He quickly shut his bedroom door behind us.

“What is going on, Ransom?” I asked.

“I messed up,” he murmured, eyes on the floor. I took off my coat and scarf and grabbed his face. He looked me in the eyes, tears welling up in his blue eyes.

“We have to go back out there, the lawyers will explain,” Ransom whispered.

“Okay,” I said, nodding turning to go back to the living room.

“Wait,” he commanded, “Please put this back on. For me.” He held up my necklace. The one he’d bought me for my last birthday. The one I took off before I flew to California.

I nodded, turning around so he could put it on me. He quickly fastened it. He leaned down to kiss my neck. I closed my eyes, absorbing the pleasure. I backed into him, wanting to get closer. He turned me back around and pushed me against the bedroom door, he quickly kissed me. I opened my mouth to his and pulled him closer to me. He pulled away moments later.

“I’m sorry that I left,” I apologized, “I was going to call you.”

He kissed me again.

“Please don’t leave me again,” he begged.

“I won’t,” I promised.

Ransom held my hand and lead me out of his room. We returned to the living room, Ransom took the seat he had been in when I’d gotten there. I sat on the arm of Ransom’s chair, and he put his arm around me.

“So, who’s going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.

The lawyers proceeded to tell me what Ransom was accused of. Conspiracy to commit manslaughter, arson, and murder. His grandfather. Fran. It was a lot to absorb.

“The police claim to have a recording where Ransom admits everything,” said one lawyer, I wasn’t clear on which was which.

“If that recording goes away, it’s all circumstantial, right?” Linda asked.

“Yes, without the recording, no jury alive would convict Ransom,” said another lawyer, “especially, if his girlfriend takes the stand and talks about how amazing he is.” Everyone looked at me. Was I supposed to say something? Luckily, I was saved by my phone ringing.

“That might be my brother, so I should get that,” I mumbled weakly. I got up and saw that it was not Ethan. I didn’t recognize the number, but answered anyway, to get out of this conversation, if nothing else.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Is this Leah Becker?” The voice asked.

“Yes, it is,” I said, walking into the kitchen, away from listening ears.

“Miss Becker, this is Detective Lieutenant Elliot. I understand that you just returned from a family wedding on the west coast,” he stated.

“Umm, yes,” I stammered, “how can I help you?”

“I would like to ask you to come down to the station. We would like to ask you some questions about Hugh Drysdale,” he declared.

“Oh, I don’t know. I—“

“Today, Miss Becker,” he said, before hanging up the phone.

I walked back to the living room. And went to sit back by Ransom.

“Who was that on the phone, baby?” He asked.

“The police,” I answered, “they want to talk to me. As soon as possible.”

*****

I went to the station later that afternoon with the youngest of Ransom’s lawyers, Rodney Phillips. I was greeted by an older woman with straw-like hair, and eyes clouded by mascara goop. I told her that I was there to meet with a Detective Elliot. I was shown into an interrogation room, I assumed that was done to freak me out. I waited about fifteen minutes before two men walked in.

“Miss Becker, I’m Detective Elliot, and this is Trooper Wagner,” one man said.

“Hi, so why am I here?” I asked.

“We just have a few questions,” Trooper Wagner answered.

“Tell us about your relationship with Ransom Drysdale,” says Detective Elliot.

“I met Ransom years ago. He was my brother, Charlie’s roommate at Harvard. I’m Charlie’s baby sister, so he went to college when I was still really young. Charlie and Ransom did everything together. Best friends, I guess. My mom disappeared when I was a kid. She decided that she was sick of the whole wife of a public defender thing. She hated kids, so she left the three of us with dad. And then my dad died when I was sixteen. He got in an accident, the other guy was drunk. So, I went to live with Charlie and Ransom after that. They had just graduated a few years before. So, having me around must have really cramped their style,” I said.

“Where is Charlie now?” Elliot asks.

“Charlie is�� Charlie passed away about four years ago. After college he got a job on Wall Street. And you know, coke is the name of the game for young guys over there,” I hesitated, “He didn’t overdose or anything. The doctors think he had an arrhythmia that he never knew about. I fell apart after Charlie died. My other brother, Ethan, is out in California doing the whole tech thing, so he wasn’t there.”

“And around that time, you became much closer with Ransom Drysdale?”

“Yes. He took care of me. I could barely get out of bed. I didn’t really know what to do. He made sure I ate and showered. Helped me go to school,” I responded.

“When you were 23 you were involved in a car accident. One where you were pretty critically injured. How did that affect your relationship with Ransom?”

“Well, it was right after I graduated college. I was working an unpaid internship at a super small publishing company and working shitty hours as a receptionist. But, I was on my own and it was fun. But yeah, I was driving home late one night and my brakes went out. I— I, um, went off the road. Well, actually I flipped the car. A few times. I was pretty badly injured. Like the works, broken bones, concussion, cuts, I actually had to have my left knee totally reconstructed. While I healed Ransom took care of me. He even convinced Harlan to help foot my hospital bills.”

“After you recovered, you went to work at the publishing company owned by the Thrombey’s? Is that correct?”

“Yeah. When I graduated, Ransom offered to help me get a job there. Initially, I turned it down because I wanted to make my own way. After my hospital stay, I really needed the money. So, Ransom helped me get a job.”

“Has your relationship with Ransom evolved beyond just one of friendship?”

“Ransom has been— the only constant in my life for five years. He’s my guardian angel, my very best friend.”

“But is there more to your relationship than a friendship, Miss Becker?”

“No.” I lied.

“Really?” Asked Trooper Wagner.

“We have numerous members of the Thrombey family on record saying that you two were involved. Sexually,” counters Detective Elliot.

“What does that have to do with the matter at hand?” I inquire.

“I suppose we’re just curious about the type of woman who gets involved with a man like that,” Trooper Wagner spits out, “Did he tell you what he did?”

I look down, at my fingers laced together on the tabletop. I refused to answer.

“Here’s the recording of Ransom admitting everything,” Detective Elliot said, placing his phone on the table in front of me. The recording was horrifying. I listened to it for about a minute.

“Turn it off,” I demanded.

Both men ignored me.

“I said, turn it off!” I yelled throwing the phone against the wall of interrogation room.

“We’re leaving now,” said Rodney.

“You can’t leave,” Trooper Wagner exclaimed, “she just destroyed evidence.”

“What?” I gasped.

“That was our only copy of that recording,” Trooper Wagner shouted.

“Miss Becker had no way of knowing that. Her outburst was clearly a stress-induced reaction and if you wish to charge her, you know where to find her,” Rodney maintained, pulling me out of the interrogation room, and escorting me out of the police station.

When Rodney and I returned to the house, everyone else was still there, having coffee.

“I think Leah just found a solution to our biggest problem,” Rodney smirked.

“What do you mean?” Kenneth asked.

“She threw the cell phone with the recording at a wall. And it was the only copy of the recording,” Rodney’s smirk grew into a mischievous smile.

“We’ll have to make verify that it was the only copy of the recording with our guy on the inside,” said Eric, “But this is good, very good.”

“Gentlemen, I think that is enough for today,” Richard called. The lawyers all agreed that we would meet again tomorrow. Everyone filed out. I gathered the coffee cups that had been left scattered in Ransom’s living room.

Ransom locked the door behind the lawyers and his parents. I took the used cups to the kitchen and began loading the dishwasher. Ransom followed me into the kitchen He sat at the counter, watching me place the mugs precariously on the top rack of the dishwasher.

“I guess we deserve each other,” I mumbled.

“What do you mean?” Ransom asked me.

“You commit crimes, and I unwittingly destroy police evidence,” I laughed hysterically, slapping my hands over my eyes. Ransom stood up and closed the dishwasher, he then lifted me up to sit on the kitchen counter, he came to stand in between my legs.

“How about we say that we deserve each other because we love each other?” He murmured, “Maybe the rest doesn’t matter, at least not in terms of our relationship.”

“How do you feel about everything?” I asked, reaching out to stroke his cheek.

“I don’t know,” he answered, holding my hand in place with his, “Aren’t you going to ask?”

I hesitated. I knew Ransom well enough to know what he was referring to, but I wasn’t sure that I wanted to know.

“Come on, Bunny. Ask me,” he urged, looking in my eyes.

“Why did you do it?” I relented.

“Harlan was cutting me off. I knew that I could never deserve you without the money,” he answered, “It just got out of hand.”

“Ransom, the money is nice, but it’s never mattered,” I placated.

“I’m going to find a way to provide for us,” he insisted, “And anyone else who comes along.”

@marvelismysafezone @captainsmallassrogers

#ransom drysdale #Ransom Thrombrey #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale fanfiction

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steve0discusses · 5 years ago

Text

Yugioh S4 Ep 4: Pegasus and His Unlimited Moxie

So, I’m finally back after that long--time--when I was sick, then busy, etc etc. Long story, I peaced out from social media for the large part, and my method for finding solace mostly involved watching so much “big living in a tiny house.”

Those houses are so damn tiny.

And now I feel better, so lets get back to business.

Just FYI, this is a midweek post because this weekend I’ll be exploring a part of California I didn’t know existed before my friend was like “Napa’s booked, so we’re going South to do our wedding in the other wine country” and it’s like “the hell are you talking about other wine country?????”

So I might be driving to a large cardboard cutout of a winery, and me and 400 guests are going to just stand in front of it and pretend that it’s real for a couple days. This means that I will probably make only like maybe three updates this month and I’m just going to have to come to terms with that.

And in case you are wondering (you’re not) the bye bye bye mashup dance we’re doing for the wedding is going great. It’s really freakin great that the Seahawks decided to choose this week to steal our thunder, so now everyone at this wedding will think we’re just all really into Football. (I’m just telling you that because I feel a need to complain so thank you for listening.)

But anyway, it was a nice surprise amongst all this *stuff* I didn’t really want to do, that this particular episode of Yugioh is pretty great. Like...guys we get Pegasus, we get Kaiba having a meltdown, we get PEGASUS. Like I forgot how much I like Pegasus.

So first off, Yugi and friends decided to watch the news about the whole shpeal from last episode, probably because each and every one of them was certain they all shared the same collective fever dream.

Something to note about Yugioh is they use a lot of near future tech, and I don’t know how much of that sci-fi goes completely over the heads of kids nowadays since this has become so normal. But yo, people in 2002 were still using AOL.

A lot has changed in 10 years. Just let that sink in, babies in the back.

(read more under the cut)

Also, please turn your entire attention over to this

Man.

the weird orange cookie on this painting is what really gets to me. It looks like a handmade soap. Because in order to soothe my soul during this stressful month I also watched a lot of cold-process soap making videos.

*quickly looks up to see if there’s Yugioh Soap*

Yeah that doesn’t exist. Hey do you think that if I sent in a Yugioh soap design into Royalty Soaps she’d actually make it? I mean, she did Studio Ghibli. This is just Studio Ghibli but on fire and with terrible hair and actually very different.

(And yes, I did, just now, in fact, make a soap design that I’m absolutely mailing to Royalty Soaps. I’ll put it at the end. No idea what it should smell like, mostly because the last thing I want to do when watching Yugioh is think about how ANY of this smells.)

See, tangents like this are why I don’t have more time.

Anyway, Yugi recalls that he was supposed to *do a thing* but also recalls that he was given really no instructions at all.

When something absolutely wonderful happens.

Y’all I was like shouting at the screen “BE A TAPE BE A TAPE BE A TAPE” and lo and behold:

Dude. Pegasus is such freakin mastermind. Remember that this show started out with them streaming video on a computer, and what did he decide to do? He sent them a tape. Pegasus knows FULL WELL how much they want to see this tape but at the same time...don’t want to watch this tape, and what follows is everyone deciding if they should or should not open Pandora’s box. A Pandora’s box they opened once before and then murdered Grandpa entirely by accident.

I can’t believe they sat on this joke for four seasons. It’s such a freakin good joke.

So of course it’s the same kid who once decided it would be a great idea to put together a puzzle that came in a box that said “WARNING THIS GODAWFUL THING KILLS PEOPLE” who decided to just stick this in the VCR when everyone else was fighting and no one was looking.

And, this is not a joke, this is literally how Pegasus decided to open this tape by scolding him for not keeping in touch when Pegasus tried to kill them not once but multiple times back on murder island. Pegasus thinks this deserves him at least a Christmas card.

Something that’s also very Pegasus is that he um--doesn’t even bother wearing an eyepatch nowadays. He’s just got...one eye now...just an empty socket that he covers with bangs and is like “ya I dare you not look at it.”

And then on, this kid’s show, they basically go through the checklist of things that are “things a child abductor would ask you to do”

And that’s it. That’s the whole tape. It’s the end of the world and Pegasus wants to get one last good prank in before it all goes belly up.

And it worked really good on Joey. But unfortunately, did not seem to phase Yugi.

And then after this, the show gets very sidetracked by some side characters that are...they still exist.

First of all, how much did Weevil spend on a bug drone? Like...what’s this guy’s day job?

Second of all, Rex and Weevil live on some weird brain plane, where they’re pretty sure that the upper echelon of card people are all in love with eachother (which, I don’t blame them, I’ve seen tumblr, it does give that impression if you’ve never watched this show). What they don’t realize is how badly each of the upper echelon of card people want to murder the Hell out of eachother, wipe eachother’s brains, and blow eachother up on a 6000 ft tower on an abandoned island.

so I guess...Unfortunately...Rex and Weevil are...still with us. Their reasoning is kind of weird--they want super good cards--but like...what’s the point of having super good cards if you’re still Rex and Weevil? Rex is so bad at cards we didn’t even get to see him lose in S2.

Also, the biker gang is back, and I still don't know their font color because they’re in dim lighting in this scene so I’ll just use these temporary font colors for now.

So, having done his one last good Joke (and maybe the only good joke that Pegasus has ever made) Pegasus decided to sit and wait for someone to do a murder on him. I mean he’s not psychic anymore, but he’s figured he’s screwed enough people that this was how he was going to go out anyway.

Mai....Valentine....

So I guess she’s back for another season? It’s weird, she made one cameo and then that was it for this episode, but it was very clearly Mai Valentine. Bro brought up that they had to make her a villain again, because she’s literally their only girl villain and I was like “no that’s, not right they’ve got...” and then I kinda sat there for a couple of seconds and I realized “oh dude there’s only been one girl villain so far in all of Yugioh!” and he was like “YEP.”

Because both of us completely forgot about Rebecca until I wrote this in this post and he was double checking it just now. My apologies to the Rebecca stans.

And then Yugi decided to let us know something extremely disturbing about his curse. The showed played it off like this was a cute thing you would want to have happen. But no. No one would ever want this.

Ho boy! They share FEELINGS?

So like...

...bear with me here--when Yugi is scared, Pharaoh gets scared. When Yugi is tired, Pharaoh feels tired. When Yugi has a complete meltdown basically every single day, Pharaoh reaches for his Tums. So um...I have to ask the question...

So who’s dating Tea? Yes, I know the real answer is neither of them, but who is the one that keeps bringing forth this ship that this show is supposed to be shipping? Both of them??? I mean they have the same feelings, and before I was like, well, I’m sure Pharaoh just kinda turns around and watches brain TV when Yugi and Tea talk about...deadlifting, or whatever she’s into, but nah he’s like...he’s got the same feelings as Yugi.

Does that just...never bother them? Like...they never get jealous? Ever?

It’s so freakin weird.

This whole sequence was Yugi being like “You can’t keep a secret from me Pharaoh, I will instantly know since I can feel you lying to me” and it’s like hot damn that’s a big lore drop that they just hop and skip away from.

So the next day they go to the airport and just go unsupervised to a foreign country.

This makes complete sense on Gramps’ part, because he was exploring Egyptian caves most of his life, so in comparison, California is baby town and Yugi would be fine. Clearly Gramps doesn’t know enough about Oakland.

Then again, Grandpa spent a very long and mysterious time in the Middle East raiding so many tombs and stealing an entire artifact that contains the whole history of a lost age of Egypt and an actual Pharaoh’s soul so like...probably wouldn’t get you past TSA in 2002. He’d send off like every red flag warning in the airport.

Give me an Air Joey spinoff this instant, Yugioh, you cowards.

It’ll be just like Wings, except all the pilots are very bad at their job and haunted by multiple ghosts.

There’s a very long pissing segment where there was no piss, but Rex begging Weevil to let him piss in the airplane. It’s about as much as you can expect out of a Rex and Weevil segment. And like, basically at this point, Rex and Weevil are married, yet this ship is never, not once, ever surfaced in my feed of fanart I see out of y’all.

And I don't blame you.

Now, when we get to California, we find out that Croquet either went completely gray or was replaced with an identical twin and also...

GUYS IT’S MY HOMESLICE.

Which doesn’t really look like this, PS.

So bro has already told me that they’re going to San Fransisco next episode or so (OMG I’m so excited to talk about it), so this is absolutely supposed to be SFO in the show. (maaaybe Oakland Airport? But I super doubt it)

Most people outside of CA don’t know the vast scale of Bay Area and that the San Fransisco Airport is not very well named since it is...not close to San Fransisco at all.

So, I’m going to guess that the show thinks they landed directly in the heart of SF. With the way this vista looks, I think they basically just painted the view from north of Downtown. Which is especially fun because that is a pretty bougie community and the thought of having just a major airport smack in the middle of it makes my heart warm and fuzzy because they have voted out an affordable housing community SO many more times than is morally acceptable. Serves you right, here’s your international airport across the street.

But Bro has warned me ahead of time that this season makes absolutely no sense geography wise...and I’m pretty stoked for that.

And then, as if reading my mind, Tea removes Rex and Weevil from the show, yet again.

Incredible that they got through customs like that, but they did arrive on a private plane, and maybe customs are different for them? I...don’t think it would be, even for a private plane, everyone has to go through customs. But, it’s a kids show, so Rex and Weevil snuck into America in a luggage bag, just like how Fox News warned us about.

Then again, I imagine that the customs agent was like “yo there’s two human bodies stuffed in here!????” and was like “ohhhhh wait, it’s a Pegasus’ plane. That adds up. Ya.” and just let it through.

Time for a classic Kaiba meltdown sequence, where he puts on a show of being really competent but is in reality acting like a stack of screaming cats in a purple trench coat.

Mokuba just working overtime to keep this ship afloat because man.

And then this next part isn’t a joke I made up--Kaiba only took as long as it took to monologue for five seconds about his reputation before doing this:

It’s more than possible that the translators have no idea who Roland is, and unlike me, isn’t keeping tabs on Roland every second that green haired fourthKaiba is on screen.

So Pegasus decides to give Kaiba a call on his video phone--because again he only saves the Panasonic Camcorder for spooking Yugi.

Pegasus could have just *called* Yugi the entire time, lol.

Anyway, without the camcorder, Pegasus now has room to stretch out his legs and stick his feet directly in the screen like the end of the world wasn’t less than 2 days ago.

And the show isn’t telling us why or how this is happening after the whole Mai thing that happened. But it’s nice to know that even when Pegasus may be absolutely held up against his will, he still freakin slays.

Youknow, Pegasus does more in this one episode to remind me that “oh yeah, Pegasus was my favorite character this whole time” than anyone else and he did in like two calls, sitting in a chair behind his desk, just screwing with people to screw with them.

And what I enjoy about Pegasus is that, although he had his eyeball removed--he’s still a freakin asshole. He still super sucks. I had a lot of questions about “how much of Pegasus being the worst was the eyeball?” And apparently the answer was “VERY little, this guy is just the freakin worst. Didn’t need to be cursed at all.”

And so, Yugioh doesn’t really do transformation sequences--unless you count when Yugi sometimes goes “yugiohhhhhh” and then to everyone else looks virtually the same. Instead Yugioh does gear up sequences.

Where we find out that Seto promised Mokuba he wouldn’t play cards anymore until he was done building all those theme parks.

I guess it’s unfortunate for Mokuba that this whole Pegasus end of the world thing happened out of nowhere and also unfortunate for Mokuba that Kaiba can build card-themed theme parks Really Quickly. I think Mokuba was banking on it taking an entire lifetime to build a park but youknow, looking at how many sequels of Yugioh there are...eh, Mokuba should have instead dared Seto to give up dueling until he finished a single semester of public school. Then those cards would have stayed buried.

Hey um...did Kaiba add hip spikes on this purple coat since Season 2? I don’t remember him having those.

Good thing I write a blog and I can check. Time for some time travel to Season 2.

Ah, yes, the hip spikes were not there in Season 2. So, at some point in between then and now, Kaiba looked at this old ass coat hanging in his closet and was like “Not Enough Butt Spikes!” and just glued em on there.

But anyway, back to Season 4...

I’m pretty sure this is one of the doors from Evangelion.

And so, off they go, straight to their death, in the world’s most un-aerodynamic vehicle.

Really glad that Dragon Plane seems to have become a permanent character, as it would if you spent 10 million dollars building a dragon plane that can’t possibly fly using real world physics.

So, Yugi and Co are going to California, and Seto is going to Season One.

And I guess Bakura was like “Oi! Loves! Is every body ready for me to murder them?” and Gramps was like “sorry, they’re getting murdered by Pegasus today” and he was like “bloody hell, every time.”

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to read all these recaps from the beginning, in chrono order--it’s a lot of content, and I can’t believe I spent this much time doing this.

And because you’re curious, here’s the soap design that will get absolutely rejected by Royalty Soaps because they say they like to watch anime but they also pronounced “Ghibli” wrong like over 20 times on that one video so I have a strong feeling this is not their brand.

#yugioh #ygo #photo recap #episode recap #yugi muto #seto kaiba #mokuba #joey wheeler #pegasus #tea gardner #tristan taylor #grandpa muto #rex raptor #weevil underwood #a bunch of biker gang people I don't know the name of #some guy with huge ass blue hair #s4 ep4

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wishingforatypewriter · 7 years ago

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Committed to Conflict

Summary: Part eight of On Casual Commitments. The friends reunite and much Aldini drama ensues.

“I have to get back to the restaurant, you guys,” Erina groaned, even as Ikumi called room service to bring up more drinks and brunch foods.

It was mid-morning and they were sitting on the balcony of Hisako’s penthouse suite at the Hayatt, all but Alice sipping red sangria. There were only three days left before the pre-opening of Canvas, and the squad had descended upon the Bay Area early to surprise—and thoroughly distract—Erina.

“Let Yukihira handle it for now,” Alice said with a dismissive wave. “You know he’s just gonna disappear on you when Ryo and the others arrive.”

Erina pursed her lips at this, annoyed with him in advance. “I suppose that is true.”

“Of course it is. Now, rotate your wrist, Hishoko,” Alice ordered as she held the pink haired woman’s left hand up to the sun. Ikumi and Erina leaned forward to better observe the near-blinding light that reflected off the central stone.

“Holy shit!” Ikumi said, before bringing Hisako’s hand down to eye-level so she could further inspect it. “This has gotta be worth $15,000 US at least.”

“Twenty,” Erina said as she eyed it.

Alice, who had been there when Akira bought the ring, revealed a small smirk and casually pointed her index finger skyward. “Higher.”

“I don’t want to know,” Hisako sighed. As soon as she saw the robin egg blue box, she knew that he had done something crazy.

The ring was too much, too showy, too grand—three Tiffany Classic diamonds on a platinum band. Hisako would have never chosen something so extravagant on her own, but she endured the constant oohs and ahhs and holy shits of her friends, sous chefs, and students because she knew how much it meant to him to be able to spend inordinate amounts of money on her (and truth be told, the bling was starting to grow on her).

“For the amount of time he made you wait, it needed to be something spectacular,” Erina said as she swirled her drink around.

“If that’s the case, you must be expecting a whole mine full of diamonds,” said Ikumi who had at some point swapped out her sangria for a flask of rum.

Erina chafed at the comment for a moment. If Alice had said it, she would have snapped, but she was glad to have grown close enough to Ikumi to experience the full extent of her sass.

“I haven’t been waiting for that long,” she said petulantly. In the most technical sense, he had only been her boyfriend—it was still so weird to think about—for two and a half weeks.

“You haven’t been dating for that long,” Alice corrected. “You’ve been in love with Yukihira since you were seventeen.”

“That’s not...” Erina paused, the denial of a lifetime poised at her lips when she recalled half-drunk card games in the Elite Ten’s parliamentary office, sneaking off into the city to visit a new pop-up restaurant and leaving Hayama with all the paperwork, sitting on kitchen countertops taste-testing whatever madness he had come up with this or that time.

She remembered his dish for BLUE, the one that brought him to the world’s stage, the one finally made her give in and admit that his cooking made her see stars. She remembered going over the ingredients in her head that night before bed—the seafood, fresh legumes, and sun-dried tomatoes, the subtle hints of honey that permeated the sauce—tears welling in her eyes with the knowledge that the dish that won her had been for someone else.

Erina heaved a long sigh and finished off her drink. In truth, part of her must have been waiting for Yukihira Souma since the day she met him. Maybe even before then.

“New topic,” Hisako said, reading her expression. She pulled out a thick bridal magazine, annotated with countless blue post-it notes. “What am I doing with my hair for the wedding?”

Megumi knew that they shouldn’t have left Tuscany until the latest possible moment, and she had said as much. But still, out of brotherly love and an undying urge to prove he was okay with his twin’s marriage to his ex-girlfriend, her husband had agreed to spend a week at Isami and Ikumi’s place out in the Napa Valley before the pre-open.

When they first arrived, Ikumi had been sipping champagne in the hot tub, wearing a black monokini and eating strawberries off of a glass dish. Isami had been lounging in a beach chair, emailing the increasing number of restaurant managers interested in serving his Cabernet Sauvignon.

Although he was polite and tried—most times unsuccessfully—to keep an open mind, Takumi’s emotions always showed on his face. Megumi knew at once that he didn’t quite approve of their excessive display of wealth—the vast swimming pool out front and the his and hers Lamborghinis parked in a garage entirely too big for the sleek sports cars.

“Not even Erina and Yukihira are this ridiculous,” he had whispered to her on their first night in a guest bedroom bigger than their master at home.

Megumi chucked a bit at this. “Let them be,” she said. “You know Isami-kun and Ikumi-san have always been a bit um...eccentric.”

That was a wild understatement, she knew. The two had gotten married in New Zealand, in secret ceremony, without the blessing of nonna Aldini or the acknowledgement of the Catholic church. To this day, she knew Takumi resented that he wasn’t present for his brother’s wedding, even though Isami’s pursuit of Ikumi had almost put an end to the brothers’ friendship.

Things were much better between them now, of course. The brothers Aldini were two halves of the moon; they could never remain at odds for long. But still, Takumi did wait until Ikumi had left to day-drink with Erina and the gang to make his request.

“Isami, I need you to take over the trattoria,” he said, while they were in the kitchen free-styling dinner. “The baby’s due in March and we want to spend the first year in Tokyo to make things easier for Megumi with her job.”

“I wish I could help you, nii-chan,” Isami replied, with a truly regretful look in his deep blue eyes. He held his glass of wine up to more closely inspect the quality. “But we just finished buying a cattle ranch down in Texas. The Mito Group wants to try something new with the cows they’re breeding. We’re gonna be splitting our time between here and there for the next few years.”

“Fratello,” Takumi said. “I know that you’re enjoying this...” The blond paused, grasping for the right word. “This lifestyle. But Trattoria Aldini is the family business. Dad’s getting older. He can’t do it alone.”

“The Mito Company is also my family’s business,” Isami reminded him. “And my wife is going to be the CEO soon. I belong in the states with her, at least for now. If you want to hire another sous chef I’ll pay for it—”

“No one is asking for your money, Isami.” The words came out harsher than Takumi intended, but he still meant them.

“Nobody said you were, nii-chan.” He swirled the wine in his cup, sipped it. “But it’s here if you need it.”

They let it hang between them for a moment, the geographic distance and their divergent priorities, and also that which was known by both brothers but remained unsaid.

The older Aldinis, especially their father and grandparents, had never exactly approved of Ikumi—not when she was Takumi’s tough-as-nails high school girlfriend, and especially not after she moved on to the other brother. Isami hadn’t been on speaking terms with their father since a particularly colorful argument a few weeks before the wedding. The dark haired twin had made it clear that he would cut off anyone who disrespected her.

“You won’t even consider returning to Italy.”

“I won’t,” he replied.

Another crack in the mezzaluna.

When Erina was finished with her day-drinking and wedding planning, she found that the upperclassmen had descended upon Canvas.

Souma was holding court as always, somehow managing to entertain them while moving tables and decor into the main dining room.

“How does one do that?” Tsukasa Eishi asked her as he watched Souma banter with his wife.

“Do what?”

“Extraversion.”

Erina laughed a little at this before following his gaze.

Her eyes narrowed as she watched Rindou sitting on the bar table, one mile-long leg crossed over the other. The red haired woman pulled a cigarette out of her purse, stuck it between her lips and had Souma light it.

“I hate that she does that,” the former first seat said, half to Erina and half to himself. She wasn’t sure if he was referring to the tobacco or the flirting.

“Tell your wife to stop smoking in my restaurant,” she said, only partly joking.

“Tell your boyfriend to stop charming my wife,” Tsukasa countered in the same tone.

Erina only gave a noncommittal shrug in response. Souma could charm the paint off the walls when he got in a certain mood, but he never meant anything by it. Rindou probably didn’t either. But still...

“I can’t believe those two used to sleep together.” It was during that hazy period between when he broke up with Tadokoro and when he started fooling around with her. Erina hadn’t paid much attention to it at the time because her attention had been elsewhere.

Eishi shot her a sidelong glance.

“What?” she asked.

“You dated Saito.”

“Casually,” she stressed, deciding that she would need another drink soon. “Besides, he didn’t last long.”

There was a pregnant pause, and then both of them started laughing hysterically. When Erina looked up, Kinokuni Nene was shaking her head at them.

“I expected better from the two of you,” she said. “Can’t believe Satoshi made me leave our son with the sitter for this.”

Suddenly Eishi blanched and started fiddling with his cell phone. “The sitter! What if she forgot to feed the baby, or if he got lost and she’s too afraid to tell me. Or what if he got sick; summer colds are a thing, you know and...”

At this point, Erina knew that he wouldn’t be good for any more conversation for the next few hours.

“You really are all parents now,” she said, thinking also of Alice’s pregnancy, and Megumi’s, and the fact that Hisako had always wanted children.

“Has baby fever finally gotten to you, Nakiri-san?” asked Isshiki who had miraculously appeared at his wife’s side. He glanced suggestively at Souma and then winked at Erina. “He’s good with kids, you know.”

“Extremely good,” said Kuga, virtually coming out of nowhere. “I tried to hire Yukihira-chin as my live-in nanny, but alas he refused.”

“Okay,” she said, her cheeks dyed vermilion. “We are not having this conversation.”

“But—”

“Nope.” Erina crossed her arms, her cheeks puffing up a little. “End of discussion!”

Just then Souma came over to join the ever-growing group. “What’s wrong, Nakiri?”

All was quiet for a moment, and then Kinokuni-san adjusted her glasses with a professorial air. “She,” the woman said, pointing to Erina, “wants to have your babies. And the rest of us want you to get on with it already.”

Isshiki and Kuga nodded solemnly in agreement.

When Erina was certain that she wouldn’t melt into the finished wood flooring, she grasped for a comeback. Even though every iota of her wanted to explode, she knew that going off would only make it seem true.

“I think you’re mistaken, Kinokuni-san,” she said, surprised at how calm her voice came out, how casual. She interlaced her fingers to stop them from trembling. “Kuga’s the one who wants his babies.”

They all shared a laugh at this and Souma went to bring out a bottle of Aldini brand cab sauv.

“You missed an opportunity there,” Isshiki whispered to her once he was gone.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” she replied, her body still tingling with nerves. “Consider yourself lucky that I won’t poison all of you.” Hisako would teach her how if she asked.

She took a deep breath and rolled her neck, letting the last waves of nervousness leave her.

Three more days until the pre-open—ten until the real thing. After that she could let the knowledge that he was good with kids drive her mad.

#shokugeki no soma #sorina #soueri #takumegu #akisako #eirin #isshinene #isaiku #part eight?#holy shit #i never intended for it to be this long #what am i doing #help

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unsolved100701 · 7 years ago

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The Zodiac Killer

On December the 20th 1968, in Benicia California, two high school students Betty Lou Jensen and David Faraday were shot and killed. The couple were on their first date and planned to attend a concert at Hogan High School, close to Jensen’s home, but the couple instead visited a friend before stopping at a local restaraunt and then driving and stopping on Lake Herman Road. Witnesses noticed the young couple huddled together in the front seat of Faraday's car between around 10:15 and 11:00 p.m. Nothing about the couple seemed unusual to those who saw them, but shortly after 11pm, their bodies were found by a local who lived nearby. Betty Lou had died from five gunshot wounds in her back. David had been shot at close range in the head, and was still breathing when found, only to die shortly later on route to the hospital.

A man named Bill Crow and his girlfriend told detectives that 45 minutes earlier, they were driving around the same place as Jensen and Faraday were. They reported that they were followed in their car by a white Chevy, but managed to lose it after making a sharp right turn at an intersection. Two hunters also reported seeing this white Chevy parked on Lake Herman road, where the two teenagers were later shot. Robert Graysmith, a political cartoonist and true crime author, made use of available forensic data at the scene. He theorised that around 11pm, the killer parked their beside Faraday’s car and most likely shot Faraday first, then Jensen as she was trying to run away. The killer then drove off. The police were left with no leads.

On the 4th of July 1969, Darlene Ferrin and Micheal Mageau were parked at the Blue Rock Springs Golf Course in Benicia (four miles from the Lake Herman Road murder site) at around 12pm. A car then parked behind Ferrin’s car, and the driver got out, carrying a flashlight and a luger pistol. As the stranger approached, he immidiately began shooting at the couple, shooting them both. When authorities arrived, both Ferrin and Mageau were still alive, but Ferrin died before being able to reach the nearest hospital. Mageau, however, survived and was able to give a description of the attacked to the authorities; he was a white man, 26-30 years old, short, heavyset, about 5’8” and 195-200 lbs with short light brown curly hair.

The next morning at 12:40 am, an unidentified man phoned the Vallejo Police Department to report and claim responsibility for the attack (as well as the murders of Jensen and Faraday months earlier). Police traced the call to a phone booth at a gas station less than a mile from Ferrin’s home and just blocks from the police department itself.

"I wish to report a double murder. If you will go one mile east on Columbus Parkway to a public park, you will find the kids in a brown car. They have been shot by a nine-millimeter Luger. I also killed those kids last year. Good-bye” - Caller

Around a month later on the 1st of August, the Vallejo Times Herald, the San Francisco Chronicle, and the San Francisco Examiner recieved letters from someone claiming to be the killer. The letters were nearly identical, and they all claimed to have been responsible for the shootings at Lake Herman Road and Blue Rock Springs. Each letter also included one-third of a mysterious cryptogram which the killer claimed contained his identity. The writer demanded that the letters be published on the front page of every newspaper, otherwise they would go on a “kill rampage”. All three parts were eventually published by the papers, and fortunately, the threats were not carried out. Police investigators stated publicly that they had doubts about the legitimacy of the letters.

"I want you to print this cipher on the front page of your paper. In this cipher is my idenity. If you do not print this cipher by the afternoon of Fry.1st of Aug 69, I will go on a kill ram-Page Fry. night.” - First letter to the San Francisco Chronicle

3 days later, a second letter was recieved by the San Francisco Examiner from the self-proclaimed killer. It began with, “Dear editor, this is the Zodiac speaking…”, the first time the writer used the name ‘Zodiac’ (a word commonly associated with astrology). The ‘Zodiac’ included details about the murders that had not yet been released to the public, proving his involvement in the crime. It also stated that when the authorities cracked his code, his identity would be revealed and “they will have me”. The letter was signed with a black cross-circle symbol.

"On the 4th of July: I did not open the car door, The window was rolled down all ready. The boy was origionaly sitting in the front seat when I began fireing."

On August the 8th, the code was cracked by a couple in Salinas, CA. It read:

"I like killing people because it is so much fun it is more fun than killing wild game in the forrest because man is the most dangeroue anamal of all to kill something gives me the most thrilling experence it is even better than getting your rocks off with a girl the best part of it is thae when I die I will be reborn in paradice and thei have killed will become my slaves I will not give you my name because you will try to sloi down or atop my collectiog of slaves for my afterlife ebeorietemethhpiti”.

The next confirmed Zodiac killing was on the 27th of September in Napa, California. College students Cecelia Shepard and Bryan Hartnell were having a picnic at Lake Berryessa. A fisherman later discovered the couple tied up with stab wounds, and so he immediately called the police. They were both still alive when medical help arrived just over an hour later (due to their remote location). Although Shepard unfortunately died after lapsing into a coma two days later, Hartnell survived and was able to give police a detailed account of the events as well a description of the attacker.

He told police that they were approached by a white man, about 5’11”, weighing more than 170lbs with combed greasy brown hair, wearing a black executioner’s-type hood with clip-on sunglasses over the eye-holes, carrying a semiautomatic pistol. He claimed to be an escaped convict from a Montana prison, and demanded their car and their money in order to escape capture by fleeing to Mexico. The couple did not hesitate to give him their carkeys and their money. He then instructed Shepard to tie up Bartnell, and provided her with precut pieces of a clothesline in order to do this. Bartnell did this, to then be tied up herself by the man. He then proceeded to stab Hartnell six times and Shepard ten times. The man then walked casually back to Hartnell’s car where he wrote, "Vallejo/12-20-68/7-4-69/Sept 27-69-6:30/by knife”, along with the cross-circle symbol of the ‘Zodiac’. These were the details of the three (first) confirmed 'Zodiac’ Killer attacks. At 7.40pm that evening, an unidentified caller contacted the Napa Country Police Department from a pay telephone, just a few blocks away (as in the Vallejo case). The caller identified themselves as the killer, telling officer David Slight in a low, monotone voice, “I’m the one who did it”. Detectives located the exact phone used minutes later, still off the hook, but with no suspect to be seen. They were, however, able to lift a palm print from the surface of the telephone but were unable to match it with any current suspects.

Two weeks later, on the 11th of October 1969, San Francisco cab driver Paul Stine picked up a customer at at the intersection of Mason and Geary Streets requesting to be taken to Washington and Maple Streets in Presidio Hights. Shortly after beginning his journey, Stine was shot in the head by the passanger, killing him. The killer then preceded to steal his carkeys, wallet, and to tear off a section of his bloodstained shirt. This was all observed by three pedestrians across the street at 9.55pm, who immidiately called the police. They described the killer as a white male, 25-30 years old, with stocky build and a crew cut. There was a large search conducted, but somehow there was a mistake made as to the killer’s race and the police were searching for a black male. It has never been reported how this mistake was made. It was later determined that two blocks away from the crime scene, the police drove past a man matching the pedestrians’ original description, but they thought they were looking for a black male, they did not consider him a suspect. The three witnesses worked with a police artist to produce a composite sketch of Stine’s killer. The San Francisco Police Department investigated an estimated 2,500 suspects over a period of years.

Shortly after, another letter from the ‘Zodiac’ was received by the Chronicle containing a section of Stine’s shirt as proof that he was the killer. It also contained a threat about killing schoolchildren on a school bus. On the 8th and 9th of November, the Chronicle received another two letters from the ‘Zodiac’. The first contained another cryptogram (which has never been decoded to this day), and the second was 7 pages long and also contained a section of Stine’s shirt. The ‘Zodiac’ stated that two policemen stopped and actually spoke to him, around 3 minutes after he shot Stine.

On the 22nd of March 1970, eight-months pregnant Kathleen Johns was driving to meet with her mother with her 10-month-old daughter. A car behind her began honking its horn and flashing its headlights on Highway 132 near Modesto. When she pulled over, a man got out of the car and informed Johns that her wheel was loose on her car. He offered to help tighten the lug nuts, but instead loosened them, so when Johns pulled forward to re-enter the highway the wheel came off completely. The man came back and offered Johns a ride to the nearest gas station in hope of fixing the wheel. Johns accepted, but began to become anxious during the journey when the man drove past several nearby gas stations. Johns described the drive as “silent, aimless driving around” in which the man would change the subject when she inquired about why they were not stopping. Her and her daughter were able to escape when the car stopped at an intersection; they jumped out of the car and hid in a nearby field. She then received help from a local who helped her get to a police station in Paterson. Whilst there, she saw a ‘wanted’ poster of the ‘Zodiac’ killer, and by looking at the police composite Sketch (that was produced after the murder of Paul Stine), she was able to identify the man who kidnapped them as the 'Zodiac’. Later, her car was found gutted and burned. This is the last confirmed sighting of the ‘Zodiac’. However, throughout the years, Johns’ account of that night has changed from her original statement, and this has led people to question the legitimacy of what she has told the authorities. For example, in the report that she made to the police she stated that after they ran into the field the man did not leave his vehicle. But in her account to Paul Avery of the Chronicle, she stated that her abductor left his car and searcher for her with a flashlight, saying he wouldn’t hurt her.

The ‘Zodiac’ continued to communicate with the authorities throughout 1970 via letters to the press. On April the 20th, the ‘Zodiac’ sent a letter to the Chronicle which included the words “My name is…”, followed by a 13-character cipher. He stated that he was not responsible for a recent bombing of a police station in Golden Gate Park in San Francisco. On the 28th of April, he wrote another letter to the Chronicle, threatening to bomb a bus if the paper didn’t publish his writings. He also stated that he wanted to see people wearing “some nice Zodiac buttons”. Around 3 months later on the 26th of June, he wrote another letter expressing his upset at the fact that he had not seen people wearing Zodiac buttons. He also took credit for another shooting in this letter - "I shot a man sitting in a parked car with a .38.” - possibly refering to the murder of Sgt. Richard Radetich on the 19th of June, as he was found shot in the head with a 38-caliber pistol. The San Francisco Police Department denies the Zodiac was involved in this shooting, but it remains unsolved. A month later, on the 24th of July, the ‘Zodiac’ took responsibility for the abduction of Kathleen Johns and her daughter (how four months later).

Around 3 months later on the 27th of October, Paul Avery (the key reporter in the Zodiac case for the Chronicle), received a Halloween card with the words, “you are doomed”. It was signed with a letter ‘Z’ and the Zodiac’s cross-circle symbol. Later, he recieved another letter urging him to investigate the similarities between the known Zodiac murders and the murder of college student Cheri Jo Bates years earlier, in 1966. On October 30th of that year, Bates was studying at the Riverside City College library until it closed at 9pm. Neighbours reported to hearing a scream at around 10:30pm, and she was found dead the next morning. She was found between two abandoned houses nearby, brutally beaten and stabbed to death. Her car was parked at the library and this had been damaged, with the distributer coil and the condenser pulled out. At the scene they found a man’s Timex watch displaying the time 12:24pm, a size 10 heel-print, fingerprints and a palm print, skin tissue underneath the victims fingernails and hair and blood in her hands. Then, 6 months later, Bates’ father and the Riverside Police Department all received handwritten letters that were nearly identical. They read, “she had to die there will be more”, signed with the letter “Z”.

In 1974, several years later, the last letter from the Zodiac was received by ‘The Chronicle’. The Zodiac concluded the letter with a new score, “Me=37, SFPD = 0”.

The case remains open in some jurisdictions, but the San Francisco Police Department has designated it unsolved an inactive. More than 2,5000 suspects have been investigated, yet nobody has been charged. Detectives continue to receive phone calls regarding theories and speculation, but with all leads eventually going cold. There are several popular theories as to who the Zodiac could be:

In 2014, a man named Gary Stewart published the book ‘The Most Dangerous Animal of All’, in which he proclaimed his father, Earl Van Best Jr was the Zodiac. Stewart pointed out that he was similar to the Zodiac’s physical description, and claims that a scar on his finger matches that in a fingerprint left at a Zodiac crime scene. A man named Chris Harris responded to this by claiming that he saw Best at a diner in 1969, near the site of one of the killings. According to Harris, Best turned to him and said, "you have no idea what it’s like to have to kill”.

The second popular suspect is Richard Gaikowsi, a newspaper journalist and filmmaker. He was involved in the running of the ‘Good Times’ newspaper at the same time as the infamous Bay Area murders. The main operations day of the Good Times newspaper, when its staff were on heightened workload, was the only day of the week the Zodiac Killer failed to mail a letter to authorities. That day was Wednesday. Richard Gaikowski trained as a medic when he was in the army prior to working at the newspaper. After the brutal murder of taxicab driver Paul Stine in Presidio Heights on October 11th 1969, the killer tore off a neat, rectangular tailpiece of the victims shirt. This was a practice medical personnel were taught in the field, especially during war, when bandages and tourniquets were at a premium and not a practice that would have been familiar outside of this field. He resembles closely the famous composite sketch of the Zodiac killer, and upon hearing his voice in later years Nancy Slover, the police dispatcher who took a call from the killer at 12.40 am on July 5th 1969, approximately 40 minutes after the murder of Darlene Ferrin and attempted murder of Michael Mageau at Blue Rock Springs Park, said that it was the same voice that had spoken to her way back in 1969.

A third popular suspect is Laurence Kane. He was involved in a car accident in 1962, which resulted in serious brain damage, influencing his behaviour. His alleged involvement in the abduction of Kathleen Johns, who managed to escape the Zodiac with her infant daughter across a field. She later identified her attacker as the same man portrayed in a composite sketch from the Presidio Heights murder, which hung on the wall of the police station in Patterson. She claimed it was none other than Lawrence Kane, chosen from a six picture line up. The letters ‘Kane’ can also be seen in a Zodiac’s cipher, staring with “my name is…”. Also in that cipher are three number 8’s, 3 times 8 is 24, and Kane was born in 1924. When Kane’s handwriting was tested against the Zodiac’s, the tests came back inconcluive.

The main suspect in the case, however, is Arthur Leigh Allen. Robert Graysmith (a political cartoonist at the San Francisco Chronicle) wrote two books on the case, heavily implying that the killer was Allen. He had been reported in the vicinity of the Lake Beryessa attack in September 1969, but claimed he was scuba diving on the day of the attacks, despite the fact that his family claimed he returned to home covered in blood with a bloody knife in his car. He came to police attention again when his friend Donald Cheney reported to police that Allen had often spoken of his desire to kill people, under the name ‘Zodiac’. In light of this information, the police decided to interview Allen. In the interview, Allen claimed his favourite book was ’The Most Dangerous Game’; a book about a man who hunted humans, and a book referenced by the Zodiac in his first letter. Allen also wore a Zodiac brand wristwatch. When searching his home, the police discovered a ‘Royal typewriter with an Elite type’, the same brand used by the Zodiac for his typed letters. In 1974, Allen was convicted of child molestation, for which he spent 3 years in jail. It just so happens that during these 3 years, no Zodiac letters were received by anyone. In 1987, a San Jose jail inmate named Ralph Spinelli claimed that Allen admitted to him that he was the murderer of Paul Stine. When Mike Mageau (who survived the second Zodiac killing) was interviewed by detectives, claimed (after seeing a photograph) that it was Allen who shot him. In 1992, Allen was found at home, dead from a suspected heart attack. His DNA was compared against the 2002 DNA extracted from stamp saliva on several Zodiac letters; it was not a match. However, it should be noted that Allen favoured having other people lick his stamps for him, providing a possible reason for the lack of DNA evidence to convict Allen. Additionally, when the police took his fingerprints when they searched his home, they did not match the bloody prints recovered from the Paul Stine crime scene. They also had Allen undergo handwriting analysis, but this was inconclusive.

Personally, with no suspect being 100% compatible with what we know about the Zodiac, it is hard to say that there was only one killer; it suggests there were several copycat killers. With the case being broadcasted so widely in the media, many in the area knew lots about the Zodiac, and so it would be easy for a stranger to copy the killer by adopting his mannerisms. However, Allen and Kane seem to have the most evidence against them, making them very significant in the question of, ‘who was the Zodiac killer?’.

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thedamiansmith · 7 years ago

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We gotta see the Penguin: Origin 3 player ratings

QLD 1. Billy Slater – is simply all that and a bag of crisps. Brilliant. Hopefully Darius Boyd was sitting at home, scribbling notes about how to be a good fullback.

2. Valentine Holmes – 3 great finishes for tries. Still looks more nervous under the bomb than Dresden circa 1945. It took NSW 210 minutes of football to figure this out. Laurie Daley – supercoach.

3. Will Chambers – obviously in the team as some attempt to keep the game fair. Constantly got in the way. In the way of NSW, in the way of his team-mates, in his own way...

4. Michael Morgan – remember Harvey Keitel’s character in Pulp Fiction? The Wolf? That’s Morgan.

5. Dane Gagai – my pick for player of the series going into the game, the judges agreed. Who signed him again? Oh that’s right.

6. Cameron Munster – there were some question marks over whether Munster was going to be up to the job. These people are not familiar with Craig Bellamy’s Jurassic Park style cloning facility where he spliced Billy Slater’s DNA with that of some kind of football playing frog. Queensland uh uh uh finds a way.

7. Cooper Cronk – dropped the ball when about to score a certain try, so there’s that. Also put in one of the greatest attacking kicks in the history of attacking kicks. So there’s that.

8. Dylan Napa – did his job I guess? He plays for the damn Roosters, what do you want from me? Still looks like Jake Busey.

9. Cameron Smith – nothing needs to be said.

10. Jarrod Wallace – it’s always special when a prop scores a try, especially because it’s nearly universally some sort of cosmic accident when it happens. Started grinning like Hodor when he saw the tryline wide open. Good for him.

11. Gavin Cooper – there’s probably some joke I can make about barrel making but it’s late.

12. Matt Gillett – punishing in defence and attack. The best a man can get indeed.

13. Josh McGuire – There’s a lot of Dishhead Dowling in McGuire and that’s either a backhanded compliment or a cloaked insult. I can’t tell which. Runs hard, tackles hard, gets himself hurt, a bit Martin Lang as well.

14. Ben Hunt – was wisely kept off the field until the game was wrapped up. A very shrewd move by coach Walters, we know what this guy is capable of in crunch moments.

15. Josh Papalii – like The Rock if The Rock ate another The Rock.

16. Coen Hess - ‘Rudolf’ as I’ve come to call him is just as brutal and efficient as his namesake. Too far?

17. Tim Glasby – when he got the ball on the half volley and started trundling for the try line we were all thinking it: is this the next Danny Nutley? Unfortunately Glasby doesn’t have the Nuts turn of pace. Ask me some time about the time Danny Nutley was the second leg in a double at the SFS…

NSW

1. James Tedesco – you know that ad that he’s in where he sets off the museum alarm system and then sizes up the security before the screen cuts to black? The end of that is that he trips in the first three seconds and then spends the next 45 minutes being beaten in a back room with a phone book before being sold off to work in the engine room of a Yakuza operated black ops whaling vessel...this analogy has gone too far but you see what I’m getting at. The guy’s a muppet.

2. Brett Morris – I never, ever thought I would see the day when Brett Morris was far and away the best player on a NSW team. Next thing you know Donald Trump will be President.

3. Josh Dugan – I’ve been hard on Duges for a long time, but that’s only because I want to see him develop. After my criticism of his last game he did in fact learn how to pass. Only it was forward and to a Queenslander, but baby steps. Shine on you crazy diamond.

4. Jarryd Hayne – remember in 2009 when Hayne was the best player in the comp? Let’s all remember him for the player he was and not the abomination he has become. The Michael McIntyre of rugby league.

5. Blake Ferguson – when Valentine Holmes went over the top of Fergo for his third try you could see Blake gesturing to his team as if to say ‘it’s not my fault – I didn’t pick me’. Daley should have trusted his judgement.

6. James Maloney – how this jackboot dilettante won two premierships is beyond me and has forever tarnished my enjoyment of rugby league both as a sport and a concept. The best microcosm of his career was late in the game when the Blues were trailing but still in the game and Jimmy put in a pinpoint kick – to Alfie Langer.

7. Mitchell Pearce – Pearce again astounds me with his incredibly accurate kicking game. It was somewhere near the 30th minute before he missed a Queensland back and accidentally found the turf. Otherwise he was like the Legolas of picking out the QLD backline.

8. Aaron Woods – like Styx or Warrant or any other 80’s hair metal band – a crushing lack of talent and ability disguised by a flowing coiffure.

9. Nathan Peats – let’s remember that time when his father, Geordi Peats, played in Canterbury’s 1993 Minor Premiership team…

10. Andrew Fifita – more like Andrew FiFATa. Yeah that’s what I’m going with. A real flat track bully, looks great when things are going his way, a useless thug when they’re not. Won’t turn a game that you’re losing, just helps you win more. Ran for more than 800m, which is something, however only 12 of them were forward.

11. Boyd Cordner – seeing this man in a Blue jumper is inspirational. I mean if he can become captain of the NSW Origin team then I might just have a chance as well. Crippling ankle injury and all.

12. Josh Jackson – to quote Andre 3000 ‘Sorry Josh Jackson. I am for real. Never s’posed to make the Blues side, you’re the one who’s getting penalised’

13. Tyson Frizell – More like Tyson Fizzle. Amirite?

14. David Klemmer – If the players in this Origin series were the cast of Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark then David Klemmer is the bag of sand used to weigh down the trap. A heavy, amorphous mound that is ultimately unable to perform the one simple task it was given.

15. Wade Graham – kinda like Joe Pesci in Casino, well meaning but his volatile temper makes life worse for everyone.

16. Jake Trbojevic – He still goes alright. Could possibly trade some of his consonants for some of Josh Papalii’s vowels.

17. Jack Bird – the year is 2008 and thanks to Family Guy season 7, episode 2 ‘I Dream of Jesus, everyone is talking about how the bird is the word. Well it’s 2017 and the Bird is definitely no longer the word.

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