#always steal from corporations never your fellow man

[brightlotusmoon]

Anyone can shoplift, you say? Obviously from big corporations? Well! Aspirations are great. Go for it.

[xruiningth3sh0wx]

Those eyes.

 

Those glowing, mako blue eyes and that head of spiky blonde hair.

 

Part of him wanted to not tell this…this shorter compatriot of his…whom he had grown to love so dearly, so deeply…that none of this was right. That none of this was the path to heroism and honor those bastards had drilled into their impressionable brains. Poisoned their minds with lies upon lies, making them march lockstep with whatever bullshit they had planned next to ruin the planet, kill off anyone who resisted, and drain the very life force of the entire world. All for that unending corporate greed, and wanton lust for more. More and more and more, until it all crashed and burned and there was nothing left but old schmucks living in bunkers in the desert of a dead celestial body. Why? Why would he go back on all of this, even though his heart, his soul, was dead set on taking him, the two of them leaving, and never looking back, to resist this overfed menace to the very end? Because it would break the shorter guy’s heart. Just like how it was breaking his own. Fueling an existential crisis he had no time at all to process.

 

He, enamored by the stories, and his…his friend (though, really, the ravenette wanted to be able to definitively say they were more than that), also wide eyed at prospects. But while the blonde was a failure, the ravenette was a success story. And here they were.

 

Two unwitting fools, realizing both far too late and just soon enough, that the whole thing needed to burn to the ground.

 

Forget their ecocidal, tyrannical, warmongering masters. Forget the wishes of those old men and women who wished to use them as mere attack dogs. Forget the leashes and chains that bound them.

 

“We gotta get outta here.” The ravenette hummed, sighing softly. Who was he kidding? Couldn’t back out now, after cutting down so many grunts. Deserters being pursued by the grunts…yeah, right. With all the shit they’ve both been hopped up with? Good fucking luck.

 

Here they were. Giving the middle finger to the scumbags in the most over the top manner. They were products of that wretched company, destined to be nothing more than programmable weapons. And what they were stealing was…themselves. Their natural born rights to be people. To be alive.

 

The blonde nodded, his hands sliding easily into the ravenette’s. Squeezing lightly, mako blue eyes flitting up to this lips. Wanting to wrap his arms around his friend’s neck and…

 

It was a gesture that soothed the anxious, socially awkward, pretty boy’s nerves (and so very pretty he was). It was all so nerve-wracking. To be faced with the realities of what…what all this meant. What he had done. What he would continue to do. It ate away at his gut. Never meet your heroes, his mind sometimes cruelly echoed. Look around you, it spoke venomously. The reasons for joining had failed him several times over.

 

And sure, he could never return home, but…

 

Well, that silver haired bastard had taken that away from him. Besides, home was right here. In the presence of this tall, dark haired, drop dead handsome fellow who seemed always so optimistic, even in the presence of certain doom.

 

Besides, he supposed there was a silver lining. He had met this ravenette, whom he loved. And adored. Who treated him like a friend, and…maybe something more, he hoped. Gods, he couldn’t spit it the hell out. Neither of them could. Perhaps neither would be able to. Or maybe the pair would get over their blushing and stuttering and come out with it. Who knows.

 

“Yeah, good idea.” He hummed, feeling the taller male’s hands squeeze his own back, reassuringly. Making him smile, albeit shyly. With barely concealed trepidation. Taking one last look at the defeated expendables lying all around them. Course the corporation would continue lobbing bodies at them. Got to tell themselves they’re doing something.

 

The pair slid easily onto the ravenette’s bike, with the blonde wrapping his arms around the taller man’s waist. Chest pressed to his back.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

All about the Dullahan

Thomas Croften Croker’s Fairy legends and traditions of the south of Ireland (1825-1834) seems to be the main – if not only – written source of full folktales about the Dullahan. It contains a section titled “The Dullahan” which consists of four folktales, one ballad, and some research notes that refer to further stories.

Not all these stories actually even use the name Dullahan, but Croker seems to have gathered them together on the basis of them being headless. Explaining: “Headless people are not peculiar to Ireland, although there alone they seem to have a peculiar name” (1928, p. 98). So which Dullahan does Mr Croker have on offer? The answer is: a set of very different creatures which he all calls Dullahan, but which are not always referred to as Dullahan and who are, from story to story, revenants, fae, death omens, and a restless spirit.

I will sum up their characteristics for every story and give a verdict on their supernatural nature under the cut (this got very long):

The Good Woman (1928, p. 85-98):

Type 1:

A short woman in a large cloak that conceals her completely who is:

Headless, and isn’t carrying her head

Shows up in twilight, seen only by a man riding home alone

Very quick and nimble, can leap onto a horse and over a wall, seem to glide rather than run

Does not speak, does not make a sound when jumping on the ground

Is corporeal, as she can be touched

Is described as a “merry wench”

She allows a man to give her a ride before jumping off his horse and running away from him, clearly making a game of letting him chase her

She runs into the ruins of an old church near a pool to meet with:

Type 2:

A crowd of “well dressed ladies and gentlemen, and soldiers and sailors, and priests and publicans, and jockeys and Jennys, but all without their heads”

These Dullahan are having a party, where they dance around a torture wheel set with skulls (unclear if these are their own heads) amidst the ruins of the church, to the music of ringing bells and rattling bones

Accompanying them, but not dancing, are:

Type 3:

Skeletons with loose heads that they bowl and throw around as a game

They have bleached bones covered by moth-eaten shrouds

These Dullahan speak, but only in unison “as with one voice, that quavered like a shake on the bagpipes”

One of them carries his head under his left arm while he offers the human protagonist a drink

All three types are referred to as Dullahan

They all leave in “a great hurry scurry with the noise of carriages and the cracking of whips,” presumably making off with the protagonist’s horse as well, who accuses them of being “the horse stealing robbers of the world, that have no fear of the gallows”.

VERDICT: Revenant. Having wild parties, tricking people, and stealing from them is definitely fae behaviour, but apart from that these Dullahan seem to be playful and rather powerful undead, that once were human.

Hanlon’s Mill (p. 103-109):

A great high black coach drawn by six headless black horses, with long black tails reaching almost down to the ground, and a headless coachman dressed all in black sitting up on the box

Possibly heralded by strange sounds during twilight: “such blowing of horns and hallooing, and the cry of all the hounds in the world and “the golloping of the horses, and the voice of the whipper-in”

They appear near a pool of water, bringing darkness with them that blocks out the moon

Neither whip, nor hooves, nor wheels make any sound

The day after a hitherto healthy man has fallen ill and dies

Not called Dullahan by name

Verdict: Omen. Specifically the ghostly coach-a-bower, the death coach. The image of a black coach (or hearse) riding by to foretell someone’s death is quite a common occurrence in folklore.

“Another legend of the same district (as Hanlon’s Mill)” (p. 109):

A black coach, drawn by headless horses, drives to and fro every night, both through the countryside and through a town

It stops at the doors of different houses, but anyone who opens the door to it gets a basin of blood thrown in their face

Not called Dullahan by name, but the story is not told in full

VERDICT: ??? Supernatural prankster? No mention is made of this coach foretelling death, so this seems to be mischief for mischief’s sake. Throwing blood at people is also not very spectral, nudging them a step towards fae in my book.

A legend from Dublin (p. 110-111):

A coach, sometimes driven by a coachman without a head, sometimes drawn by horses without heads, drives furiously past a castle where a clergyman hung himself, possibly with supernatural aid

Not called Dullahan by name, but the story is not told in full

Verdict: Omen. The coach-a-bower again, but this time not to foretell a death but to announce that an (unnatural) death has taken place.

The Harvest Dinner (p. 112-128):

A great old family coach, drawn by six headless horses, driven by a headless coachman

There are headless passengers inside and four fine footmen standing behind the coach, also headless

They emerge from a moat with a great rumbling noise and go towards an old church

They are driving at the rate of a hunt and make sparks fly out of the stones of the road (which implies their horses were horseshoes!)

Even with the whole coach they are faster than a man on horseback

A gate opens for the coach as by magic

Not called Dullahan, but referred to as “fairies”

Ahead of them in this procession are other fairies: “the prettiest little fellows you ever laid your eyes upon. They were all dressed in green hunting frocks, with nice little red caps on their heads, and they were mounted on pretty little long-tailed white ponies, not so big as young kids"

All are seen by the light of the (full) moon, by a man going home alone at night, but he is not afraid of the headless fairies after he notices they have no eyes to see him with

VERDICT: Fae. They are clearly taking part in a fairy procession and are minding their own business, possibly going to have a party at the old church.

The Death Coach, a ballad (p. 134-136):

A coach decorated with a shroud, with headless horses, headless driver and headless passengers

The wheel spokes are thigh bones, the pole a spine and the lamps sculls

They drive at great speed and the coachman cracks a whip

They stop at a churchyard where they speak with the dead in the ground, arguing with them to let them rest there for the night

They plan to go on tomorrow: “for having no heads of our own, We seek the Old Head of Kinsale" (this is a place in Ireland, the whole ballad is full of puns like this)

VERDICT: More rowdy revenants. They have a very gaudy death coach, but do not foretell death, and are clearly accustomed to sleeping in graves.

An anecdote from Cork (p. 136):

Dullahans “drive particularly hard wherever a death is going to take place”

They come in a great crowd, with a large procession

The coachman has a long whip “with which he can whip the eyes out of any one, at any distance, that dares to look at him”

VERDICT: Omen?? Fae that are into death for the goth of it??

The Headless Horseman (p. 138-150)

A headless rider who carries his head under his right arm or in the pocket of his coat, on a headless white horse, who has its head floating in front of it

The head is gaunt and ashy pale, with “depressed features” that look “like a large cream cheese hung round with black puddings” and has two large, fiery eyes, matted black hair, and a mouth that reaches from ear to ear

He wears a scarlet single-breasted hunting frock with “a waist of a very old fashioned cut reaching to the saddle, with two huge shining buttons at about a yard distance behind”

He appears to a man on horseback, at night, in the rain

The head speaks in a hoarse voice, but only sparingly, most questions only get a “Humph”

The horseman rides without use of whip, spur or stirrups

The ground shakes under the weight of the hooves, which make a fearful clattering noise and stir the water of nearby pools into waves

Gladly enters into a race with the protagonist and he even promises the man that his horse will be safe

He is never called a Dullahan but just “the headless horseman” and even refers to himself in this way

After the race the headless horseman reveals that ever since he and his horse broke their necks at the bottom of a hill he has been trying to find a man brave enough to ride with him, he gives the man his blessing, promising him that he will never desert him nor the old mare he is riding (and supposedly helping him to win horseraces)

VERDICT: Restless spirit. To me this fellow has very little in common with the other stories. This is very much a doomed rider type of figure, although the curt conversation has a striking resemblance to a similar headless rider in the story A Queen’s County Witch (Yeats, 188, p. 151-154), where the figure is a witch in disguise.

Croker collected his stories in the typical 19th century folklorists’ style, through correspondence, interviews, and borrowing from other authors. He also rewrote the stories quite extensively, and has been criticised on his attitude towards “the Irish peasantry” as he did so. Yeats was one of these critics, (while he did still consider Croker an expert), and as he is the only other 19th-century source on Dullahan I thought his short notes are worth quoting too. He refers to the Dullahan (or Dallahan) both as “headless phantoms” and one of the “solitary fairies” (p. 81), and mentions them in the section “The Banshee”:

“An omen that sometimes accompanies the banshee is the coach-a-bower [cóiste-bodhar]—an immense black coach, mounted by a coffin, and drawn by headless horses driven by a Dullahan. It will go rumbling to your door, and if you open it, according to Croker, a basin of blood will be thrown in your face. These headless phantoms are found elsewhere than in Ireland.” (Yeats, 1888, p. 108).

CONCLUSION: If it’s Irish and headless and walking or riding around ominously, it’s a Dullahan. Which may be a fae, a ghostly omen, or a revenant, just as they please. There clearly is no one coherent definition to be found.

I still insist on putting the cursed headless horseman in another category though. Dullahan clearly have some shared preferences, like a love for twilight and moonlight, horses and coaches, ruined churches and pool. And, interestingly, they seem to always show up either with a coach or a whole company. So I feel justified in saying that the spectre of a solitary person who remembers his own death and knows his reason for still roaming the earth, does not embody the Dullahan sprit.

[yukiwrites]

Sothis, Loathing

Thank you so much for the support as always, @xpegasusuniverse​! I hope you like it!

Summary: In Askr, there were many stories of Heroes who had fought against Dragons of Destructions back in their own worlds, to the point that at least one out of three people had come from a world threatened by an evil dragon. Sothis felt the presence of one tailing her as she and Byleth went to look into their circumstances...

Commission info HERE and HERE!

______________________________

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Having a physical body was more exhausting than Sothis remembered; if she had any memories at all, though.

Not counting the pesky Golden Deer poking at her patience at every waking moment, there was also the issue of walking with your own two feet to move from place to place. Never would Sothis think that she would’ve preferred to be a non corporeal being if it meant never having to stomp her bare foot on the cold stone again.

Of course, it wasn’t as though she actually had to stomp on the floor, but not stomping wasn’t an option, especially whenever she felt irritated, so the goddess could always be seen wearing a scowl unbefitting of her small stature. She crossed her arms as she and Byleth headed to the library as it had been their custom for the past few days.

Commander Anna and the Summoner had made it seen through their actions that the books in Anna’s office weren’t privy to the heroes, so it fell on Byleth and Sothis themselves to research their circumstances. Unexpectedly enough, there were many books that hailed from Fódlan in that strange, almost mystical, library. It looked like the size of a small room from the outside, but spammed rows and more rows of bookcases as though they headed ad infinitum.

Once they entered, Byleth immediately made eye contact with Robin, the ylissean tactician.

“Oh, Byleth. Reading again today?” The white-haired man smiled politely, nodding to his fellow researcher.

“Yes. Literature from my own world hasn’t been helpful so I wanted to broaden my scope.” The Professor replied with a business-like tone, making Robin nod in agreement.

“Mhm, mhm. I, too, read many books from other worlds while looking into my own, so I can give you a few recommendations if you want?”

“That sounds wonderful.” Byleth concurred, stealing a glance at Sothis as though she was a child getting in the way of adult’s talk.

She squinted once their eyes met, as though she could read his thoughts. “Even if I possess a physical body at the moment, it does not mean that our shared mindscape is empty, you fool.” 

Perhaps it was because Sothis was a non corporeal being from the start, but Byleth found it difficult to access their mindscape once they reached Askr, so hearing her confirm that she had access to his thoughts to some degree only made his smile grow.

He patted Sothis on the head as he chatted away with Robin, picking up the tactician’s suggested books before heading to an empty table. The three of them sat there -- Byleth and Sothis on one side with Robin opposite of them -- as they discussed the similar topics of their worlds as well as other interesting connections.

Robin tried to insert Sothis into the conversation from time to time as well, but she only rolled her eyes and pretended not to hear him, wanting to have nothing to do with a conversation borne out of pity.

It’s here again, Sothis thought with annoyance as she felt a piercing gaze burn a hole at the back of her neck,. She had felt someone observing her movements the day after they had arrived, wondering what they could possibly want from a goddess that’s probably not even the one they had in their world.

Narrowing her eyes, Sothis looked back from her seat, seeing the tips of a fluttering cape -- or cloak -- disappear behind a large bookshelf.

She then jumped onto the floor from the tall chair, landing without a sound as Byleth checked on her with the corner of his eyes. She tapped on his hand before leaving, as though signaling him that she would be close.

Nodding, Byleth simply let her do as she pleased and kept talking with Robin.

The only sound following Sothis was the low hiss of her long dress dragging behind her calm yet rushed steps towards that revolting presence she had felt observe her.

The moment she reached the bookshelf, she crossed her arms and tilted her head to the side, most likely to make herself sound imposing although she could barely reach people’s chests with her short height.

“State your business at once.” Sothis commanded with the authority of a goddess towards the malevolent aura that surrounded the man Sothis had just been with back at the table: the presence wore Robin’s face and body like a cloak.

“... Why are you so chummy with your vessel?” Grima’s distorted voice sounded from deep within Robin’s throat, making Sothis narrow her eyes even more at the disturbing question. Sothis stole a glance at the table, confirming that Robin and Byleth were still chatting away.

“You are not making any sense. Vessel?” She turned her gaze to this revolting individual.

Grima, who had been slouching by the bookcase, stood straight as his scrutinizing gaze observed the little girl in front of him. “I have been watching you and your vessel for the past few days, but it is truly an incomprehensible sight, so I’ve had no choice but to ask. Why are you forming bonds with him when all you’ll do is overlap his ego with yours?”

Sothis’s eyes shook and she almost forgot how to breathe. “What manner of nonsense are you speaking of right now? It is indeed true that we are here in search of ways to separate ourselves but- for me to take over a body that isn’t mine?”

The man surrounded in a dark aura took one hand to his chin in thought as he observed the girl in silence. After a few seconds, his eyes slowly widened as though he had come to a conclusion. “You truly have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Enough with this play with words!” Sothis seethed, somehow remembering to keep her voice down despite stomping her foot hard on the wooden floor.

Shaking his head, Grima peeked at the direction of the table, watching as another vessel that was made specifically for him laughed as though his future wasn’t set in stone. He slowly opened his mouth to speak. “I, too, suffered from memory loss after taking over this body -- I still have gaps in my memory, so I’ll let you in on a good piece of information, from one god to the other: that man you’re so attached with, he’s even more twisted than this flesh I wear.” Grima placed one hand over his own chest. “You managed to make a meat-puppet that was capable of thought while infusing him with your own power as his center.”

Everything Grima said flew right over Sothis’ head, making the girl blink in confusion. However, Grima continued.

“For me to be able to inhabit this body, I had to wait a millennia for the right vessel to be born. Countless years I waited for the right combination of blood and darkness to gather in a human so I could wear him to unleash my power to the world.” Grima spoke nonchalantly, as though they were talking a stroll. A devious smirk grew on the corners of his mouth. “But this? You managed to accurately craft a jar of flesh and blood with the minimum of free will necessary to make your take over as smooth as possible. It is inspiring -- perhaps the next body I inhabit will be crafted to perfection just so I don’t have to deal with that buzzing ego that never seems to go away.”

The tips of Sothis’ fingers grew cold at the sheer absurdity of what she was hearing. Her heart beat wildly inside her chest -- something that would be impossible were it not for Askr’s magic -- which also made her recall some long lost memories.

They were simple glimpses of what once was, and immediately disappeared from her memory as she grasped them, like dust to the wind. She felt like the darkness of those who live under the ground was shaking her very being into remembering something vital to her sense of self.

Each time she saw it, she forgot it immediately. Only the vague and unsettling sense of foreboding engulfed her like a wave.

“Do not-” her voice shook, “do not compare me to servants of the darkness like you filth!” Sothis’ shoulders trembled, though not by fear nor self-preservation.

She was angry.

She was furious.

That entire speech hit her the wrong way, making the girl want to stomp on that bug who wore Robin’s face.

Grima, however, threw his head back in a low, mocking chuckle. “Servant? I am the lord. Wherever I step, darkness follows.” His sharp gaze pierced into hers, as though they shared a battle of wills.

That made Sothis open and close her fists lest she used the draconic power inside of her to obliterate that lowly being that dared to suggest that she- that she did something so inhumane!

“Besides, it is fruitless to direct your anger at me; the deed is done and the meat-puppet grew into a fine specimen ready for the overtaking.” Grima pointed at Byleth’s back, accurately pointing to the place where his heart would be. “The center of your power is there, you need simply to call upon it.”

Angry as she might’ve been, Sothis felt compelled to look at the direction the finger was pointing. She gasped once she noticed something she had never paid attention to before.

Perhaps it was because she and Byleth had shared the same body, so it was a different issue to be able to pinpoint something within one’s shared body and when looking from the outside. Sothis could see that Grima’s finger pointed straight to the center of Byleth’s body; to the place that his heart should’ve occupied.

She felt a power akin to her own in there -- no, it wasn’t merely ‘akin’, but identical! She could feel as though a piece of herself was there, right inside Byleth’s heart.

Or perhaps, it was there in place of his heart, as the core of his entire being.

When had she left that power there? Was it the reason why Byleth had been so apathetic the first time they met?

Loathe as she was to trust Grima’s words, Sothis couldn’t help but feel that what he had said was true: Byleth barely had had an ego before he started teaching. He also had the power of a god sleeping inside of him.

Perhaps the anomaly in this case was Sothis appearing in his mind instead of overtaking his body right away as Grima suggested.

She had heard about Grima from Robin during their constant meetings in the library, so Sothis was aware of how a god could descend onto a human being of their choice -- but to think that Byleth seemed like a fabricated being that would only serve as her medium to the world?

That felt wrong. No, that felt terrible.

Was Sothis this kind of person before she lost her memories? Someone so terribly calculating that they would make an entire new body from scratch and imbue it with some power before being allowed to take over it once the time came?

Sothis was confused.

She felt repulsed by Grima’s acts, but since there was not much for her to go on regarding her and Byleth’s situations since it all already happened, there was nothing Sothis could do apart from keep on researching.

Robin wasn’t even the only proof of a god descending on a human’s body in this world, either, so the more Sothis thought about it, the more sense Grima’s words made. But she refused to even think that he could have been right at some point, not wanting her own self to be someone she loathed.

Noticing the horror in the girl’s eyes, Grima simply took a few steps back to hide beneath the shadows, ever observing these new players that had come to this immense play that was the world Askr.

[marycecilyy]

Smut: 4, 11, 12, 34, 50 of Leiftan and Erika 7w7

hey, fellow sinner. I hope you like it! this is a modern au, keep that in mind

(I’s 2am and I didn’t  proofread it yet, so please ignore eventual errors). 

-x-

“Are you ready, Leif?” Erika opened the door and found Leiftan was standing in the middle of the living room fumbling with his tie, pretending not to know how to handle it . Yes, pretending. As  someone that had a lot of fancy events in his daily life, he could do any kind of knot possible. However, he loved  having her do it for him was way better, after all, it was the perfect excuse to have their faces close and steal kisses from her. 

“Almost I just need to…” He stopped in the middle of his sentence when his eyes grazed her figure. Erika was  wearing a strapless long dress. Her whole attire  had red as its  color scheme, even her discrete makeup. In her ears, golden earrings. 

She always looked good in formal attire, but this time she was ten times prettier. So incredibly stunning that he gave up on attending the party. He knew that, as one of the heads of the HQ corporation, he couldn’t just not show up, but he wanted her so badly at the moment.

When he told her his wish, her answer came quick: “No.” He tried to convince her that  it would be worth it, but she was  convinced  that they could do it at another moment. That party pooper...

“What about something quicker? Ten… no, I only need  five  minutes!”

“Hm….” She let the thought sit on her  head for a while, but decided that he could keep his stamina for  later. 

“Fine…” Leeiftan said in a defeated tone. As Erika did the knot on his tie, he got close to her ear and whispered in a calm, yet tempting tone: “...But as soon as we get back I’ll be ruining that pretty makeup of yours.” 

And he kept his promise.

-x-

The door of the luxurious apartment opened and the couple, exhausted from talking to all those executives, entered their home Erika took off her coat, waiting for her lover to take action. During the party, he kept teasing her with bold touches hidden from everyone and hungry glances. even though she insisted on waiting, she also was eager to making love to him all night. 

His plans, though, were a bit different. 

When her back was facing him, Leiftan grabbed her waist and pulled it against his hips. Surprised, she could feel him already  semi erect. She tried to turn around, but he held her in place. His stance  was imperative, he wanted  to be the one in control.

For most people, Leiftan seemed  like a sweet man who, even with his high post on the enterprise, kept his gentle and innocent posture, However, there was this side of him that only Erika held  the privilege of seeing. A demon.

“By tempting me, you’ve committed a terrible mistake. Tonight, your body and soul belong to me. Got it?”

“Y-Yes…” Erika whispered. She felt one of  his hands hold her throat and choke her just enough for him to assert his dominance and get her even more excited. He knew she loved  when he did that.

He directed  her towards the couch, but, to her surprise, he didn’t stop there. Suddenly, her breasts were being pressed against the hard  and cold glass. His mouth started playing with her neck, one of  his hands grabbing her throat as the other forced  her hips against his boner. She knew that if any moment  she could stop it, but she was loving being dominated by him. His voice was sweet, creating a contrast with his rough actions. 

“Against the window, are you insane?” She couldn’t care less about it. After all, they were on such a high floor and the lights were off.. .However, she loved to be a bratty bottom. 

“I’ve been waiting the whole night to have you. I’ll do it how I fucking want. Did you forget that I own you? Huh?” Erika moaned when his hands tightened even more around her erogenous zone, leaving her  breathless. “Answer me. You like that, don’t you?”

She managed to nod, her eyes rolling. She felt  like she could have an orgasm just from that. It was like she said before, that man was a demon. 

“That’s what I thought. You know, I used to think your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong. It’s your moans.”

She barely  registered when he filled her in, too lost in her bliss .What she did remember though, was that she never had an orgasmm that powerful before. And she would do anything to have it again anytime soon.

[phantompearlsalt]

Sour Cherry, Chapter 3

This one is much different from the others — I like to believe Kuvira feels deeply and fiercely, particularly for the person she loves. So of course, your first kiss is very much of that nature. Feel free to follow on AO3! 

“You first learn of her in the city newspaper. Her elegant features grace the cover of the front page, announcing her promotion to captain of the city’s guard. For a moment, you don’t think much of it until you observe the photograph with greater attentiveness. 

It’s the mark on her right cheek that suddenly distinguishes her. She is the young woman from Suyin Beifong’s dance troupe. Having attended a fair number of their performances, you slowly start to recall your fascination with the anonymous dancer. 

Kuvira. Your finger traces the printed name with wonder. 

Aside from the mark, you recognize the beautiful, heavy braid that sinks past her shoulders and falls to her waist. As exquisite as all the performers are, there is something about Kuvira in particular that has always captivated you.”

Being a non-bender, you are profoundly enraptured by the elegant movements of the dancers, the bird-like motions of their limbs that simultaneously allow them to orchestrate fantastical structures of metal. Having been surrounded by the more practical uses of the material, seeing the delicate side of metalbending is almost dreamlike. 

But you often find yourself mesmerized by the braided dancer. In fact, she later becomes the reason you attend these recitals with such determined consistency. 

---

“Here are the design drafts you requested,” you say, accompanied by Zhu Li whose arms are equally filled with rolled up papers. Kuvira nods once and angles her chin towards the desk across the room. “You can set them there,” she responds coolly, returning to her conversation with Varrick and Baatar. 

You sigh internally and join Zhu Li at the table, carefully unfolding the most pertinent documents. Work is work after all. 

You and Kuvira have gotten significantly closer over the past few months, finding times to share meals together away from the sergeants and corporals. Those are the only moments you get to steal her away from the daily commotion of building an entire empire and you cherish those conversations immensely. Often replaying them in your head, you lose yourself in the sonorous lull of her voice and the stories of her upbringing. 

Nevertheless, you don’t expect this newfound closeness to disrupt your daily duties.

Bolin joins you soon after from across the room, as spirited as ever, and peers over your shoulders to catch a glimpse of the diagrams. “Ohhhh! What are these?” he asks. You shoo him away and scowl. 

“Nothing we need to concern ourselves over,” you respond. “Zhu Li, Bolin,” Kuvira calls. “Accompany Varrick and Baatar to the engineering room. There are some developments that require your assistance.” 

“You got it, boss,” Bolin replies promptly, clearly thrilled to have something to do. Zhu Li merely nods and quickly makes her way to Varrick’s side, who instantly starts babbling about whatever new invention Kuvira’s got him working on. 

You continue organizing the documents and are just about to leave when you feel a muted pressure on your lower back. It’s so mild you almost question whether it’s actually there. But then you feel the warmth of another human and your breath catches in your throat. 

“Thank you,” Kuvira murmurs. “You have been an indispensable asset to this endeavor. I don’t believe we would be making such progress were it not for your efficiency.” 

You chuckle nervously and pray she can’t sense how on edge her proximity puts you. “It’s my honor to serve the Great Uniter,” you offer weakly. Kuvira steps away and you mourn the loss of her touch but it allows you to turn around and face her. 

You can’t quite look her in the eye so you stare directly at her cheekbone instead. “Call me Kuvira. I’d think we’re at that point, don’t you agree?” she inquires coyly. “I suppose so,” you stammer. 

There is a moment of awkward silence during which you have to chew into your cheek to avoid saying something horribly embarrassing. Finally, Kuvira breaks the stillness and says, “Let’s see each other tonight. Come to my tent after nightfall.” 

You blink once, then twice, before the words actually sink in and you ask, “Is something the matter? Perhaps Baatar or Varrick would be better suited—”

“No,” she interrupts. “It is no...professional matter. I only wish to see you. We have been able to spend some time together recently but there is rarely time beyond the occasional rushed meal. I have made time tonight and I...want to see you.” 

It takes everything in you not to let your jaw drop to the floor. You’ve never seen Kuvira stumble over her words this way. It’s strange to hear the obvious discomfort at the end and you would chuckle if you weren’t a.) so thoroughly intimidated by her or b.) completely and undeniably dumbfounded with the present scene. 

“Oh,” you breathe out eventually. When you manage to look Kuvira in the eye, they widen almost imperceptibly but she doesn’t break the gaze. “I’d like that,” you finish, allowing the faintest smile to crack the nervous line of your mouth. 

“Alright, then it’s settled. I will see you later this evening,” she says. “As you were.” 

You bend your back just enough to bow slightly, quickly making your way out of the room. You make sure you’re far enough into the hallway before falling back on the metal wall and exhaling shakily. 

What the hell?

---

“Suyin Beifong’s hypocrisy will be the downfall of the Earth Kingdom. Between the archaic nature of the Beifong rule, and the ineptitude and inaction of the United Republic of Nations, the anarchy that has taken control of Ba Sing Se will spread to the neighboring Earth states, wreaking violence and despair in its path. 

We have lived and served in the city of Zaofu as birds in a cage for too long, and now we have the opportunity to truly realize our potential by stabilizing the Earth Kingdom capital and reuniting the kingdom at large. Suyin Beifong and the government of Republic City are unwilling — and incapable — of exercising the leadership our people need. 

I vow to be the one who unites our lands, restores peace and order, and oversees the emergence of a long-awaited Earth Empire! We will usher in a new era of technology and innovation, leading us into a new and forward-thinking future.”

A wave of applause swells through the crowd, straining to maintain the extent of their excitement for fear of being caught by outsiders. You stand in the corner of the room and watch Kuvira with unabashed admiration. 

Between the city guards and wealthy citizens, everyone is captivated by the nearly-tangible force of Kuvira’s speech. She evoked a palpable sense of ambition in each individual, stoking their desire to see the Earth Kingdom stabilized and modernized. 

You see Baatar Beifong, Jr. join her side, grinning proudly and murmuring something near her ear. 

Your heart immediately sinks. 

---

Dinner is a painfully stagnant affair. You eat with Bolin and a pair of nameless corporals, attempting to appear engaged in their frivolous conversation while internally begging for nightfall to come soon. 

Eventually, people begin yawning and Bolin is the first to return to his tent. “Gosh, that was a great time you guys,” he sighs happily. “We gotta do this more often.” You nod a bit too enthusiastically, hoping your response encourages Bolin to take the hint that the evening is over. 

He is such a kind young man but so often fails to recognize when you’d prefer to be alone. You don’t have the heart to confront him about it so you suffer in silence.

Luckily this time he gets it and is on his way off, accompanied by the corporals who politely dismiss themselves and say their goodbyes to you. You stay in place, silently observing the sky and your fellow members as they disperse for the night. 

In an attempt to avoid bringing attention to yourself, you make your way to your tent as well, quietly sliding the door shut without turning the lock. You lean against a metal panel, listening to the bustle of conversation slowly diminish until it’s entirely silent. 

When it’s clearly time to head back out, you inhale deeply, straighten your shoulders, and quietly step outside, gradually sliding the door behind you to avoid making any sound. Kuvira’s tent is instantly recognizable from your position — it’s shaped exactly like everyone else’s but significantly larger. 

As you near the structure, you see guards posted and the resulting uneasiness nearly turns you away. But with each tentative step closer, a shadowed figure starts to appear before you. You’re just about to consider walking away entirely when you realize it’s Kuvira. 

“I assumed their presence would distress you. It appears I was correct,” she chuckles, her face illuminated under the dimmed lights of her tent. 

You let out a single, almost wheezing laugh and let your shoulders drop. “No, it’s fine,” you respond. “I knew they’d be here and I should’ve assumed you told them...just sort of went over my head, I guess.” 

“Careful now,” Kuvira says. “I rely on your excellent memory. Can’t have me questioning that anytime soon, can we?” You gulp and shake your head. “No...Kuvira,” you answer, reminded of her insistence on being called by her name. 

While her expression remains generally stoic, you can’t help but notice the way her jaw clenches infinitesimally. “Come, let us walk,” she says, turning away from you and walking towards the rocky mountains that surround your campsite. 

You follow closely behind, switching between watching your feet and her back to ensure you don’t get too close. You want to ask her about her day, whether she’s been resting, but you’ve never been completely alone this way. Even during meals, the mass of Empire soldiers is always somewhere nearby. This is new and daunting.  

Kuvira calling your name makes you look up at her and she’s watching you curiously. “I’m afraid the past few months have done little to assuage your discomfort around me,” she notes. “No!” you counter, perhaps too fervently. Her eyebrow lifts and you sigh. 

“It’s not discomfort,” you assure her. “You’re my leader and I respect you. Immensely. It’s like I said this morning: it’s my honor to serve you and I’m going to demonstrate that any way I can.”

She stops walking when she reaches a stony mound, turning so she’s facing you entirely and sitting on it. “You know, aside from Baatar, your loyalty to me and the Empire is unparalleled.” 

The mere mention of Baatar’s name immediately sets you off but you manage to keep a straight face. Or so you think. 

“Is there some bad blood between you and Baatar I should be aware of?” she inquires, bending a stone from the ground and letting it float above her hand. “No. He’s my superior and we work well together,” you reply simply. 

“Hm...I’m not too sure about that,” she responds. “You’ve never been too fond of him, even in our early days.” 

---

“You are one of Zaofu’s most prominent and well-respected political historians. You intimately know the inner workings of the Earth Kingdom states. Your expertise will be invaluable for our stabilization and reunification efforts.  It is a major task but I want you to consider joining my forces,” Kuvira explains. 

“It is no question,” you say. “I have aspired to serve your cause since the beginning. If you would have me, I would be eternally grateful to lend my skills to this great venture.” 

“Thank you,” Kuvira responds, but she is quickly overtaken by Baatar, who joins from the side and begins shaking your hand. It’s not lost on you how Kuvira’s face twists into evident annoyance but she restrains herself quite well. 

“This is a major addition to the Earth Empire forces. With your expertise and our technological innovation, there is certainly no bounds for the transformation our vision will bring!” Baatar boasts. You smile amiably but feel tempted to yank your hand away. 

You don’t care for Baatar. He’s a somewhat mousy fellow who rides off Kuvira’s confidence. He spends nearly all his waking hours with her and you know she favors him greatly. They did grow up together after all and you can’t deny his intelligence. If anything, they actually complement each other quite well...

Regardless, he gets on your nerves. But you do your best not to show it. 

---

“I recognized your distaste for him from that moment on. You are talented at concealing your emotions, though you can’t seem to do so around Baatar,” she observes, flicking the stone somewhere behind her. 

There’s an uncomfortable lump forming in your throat that you try to swallow down. You absolutely loathe being put under a magnifying glass this way. Kuvira’s right: you are excellent at hiding how you feel. 

Which makes it all the more frustrating when someone catches on. 

“Well, that’s human nature, isn’t it?” you ask. “That’s to be expected anywhere. Our personalities just don’t mesh...but we work well together. Clearly.”

Kuvira hums pensively. She’s watching you with an expression you can’t quite label and it makes you want to squirm under your uniform. It almost feels like she’s dissecting you with her eyes alone. 

“Join me,” she finally says, shifting her weight so there’s a wide space beside her on the stone. To stifle the anxious mewl that threatens to leave your throat, you bite your lower lip and hope the night obscures the gesture. 

As you sit by Kuvira, you realize how little space is actually between you two. Her hands are supporting her upper body weight, angled just below her hips. If you moved yours from your lap, you’d inevitably touch the edge of her fingers. 

For a single second, you consider it but ultimately manage to hold yourself back. Given the context, it feels like a massive feat. 

“I hope you know how much I meant what I said,” Kuvira says quietly. Your brow furrows in confusion and you turn to face her. She’s gazing straight ahead at the mountains surrounding you, the cool beam of moonlight casting a pale glow across her impassive expression. 

“You know these governments better than anyone. These negotiations have succeeded at such high rates largely due to your mastery of the subject. I am truly grateful,” she continues. 

You fold your hands together against your legs, holding them tight. “I believe in this mission. I believe in you,” you remind her. “I saw how many people you inspired back in Zaofu. It was incredible. I didn’t think I’d be able to contribute much...I’m just an academic. I read books and write papers for a living, for crying out loud. But you gave me a greater purpose. You broadened what I thought I could do.”

“I am glad,” Kuvira replies. It looks like she’s going to continue talking but her mouth suddenly tightens into a straight line and she pauses. You sit with the silence until the tension is unbearable. It’s so thick Kuvira could probably bend it. 

“Kuvira...I hope I’m not being out of line for asking but...do we need to talk? I know you wanted to hang out but, um, if I’m going to be completely honest you don’t seem like the type for these kinds of things.”

Your thumb digs into the back of your hand as you wait for her to respond. You fear you’ve crossed that unspoken boundary Kuvira has with everyone when she finally speaks. 

“You always waited for me at the corner of Salai and Third Street,” she states. Her voice barely pierces through your otherwise silent surroundings. Your heads tilt to the side in confusion and you dig through your thoughts until a vivid image of a recital hall flashes through your mind. 

“The dance recitals,” you gasp. 

“Indeed. I can’t say I know when it started but there was one evening where the troupe decided to go out for drinks,” she recalls. Something akin to melancholy touches her voice but it doesn’t reach her eyes. 

“You were sitting on the bench by the lamppost. I didn’t think much of it until the next time. I made it a point to exit through the front door from there on out and sure enough, you were almost always there. You caught me each time because within seconds you’d run off.”

If only the spirits had graced you with the privilege of bending because at that moment you desire nothing more than to drown yourself in the ground below. This time you can’t help it when your face sinks into your palms in absolute humiliation. 

“You have got to be kidding me,” you groan. “I can’t believe you still took me on after that. That’s ridiculous! You probably think I’m some kind of creep!” 

Kuvira’s face softens and she presses her hand against your shoulder. Despite the thick layer of fabric, her touch sets a flaming heat across your skin. You’re grateful for the darkness that conceals the inevitable blush spreading across your face. “Not quite. I was rather intrigued.”

You turn to face her and her hand stays in its place. You want nothing more than to enfold her fingers with your own but you resist the temptation. It doesn’t feel right. 

“You didn’t even know me,” you return. 

“You’re right, I didn’t. But that made it all the more fascinating,” she explains. A low breath filters out of her nose as she exhales slowly. She turns her gaze away from you, staring into the space beyond your shoulder but you can tell she’s not quite here anymore.

“Suyin raised me...but I never knew if she could really see me beyond a wayward child who just needed guidance and structure. She trained me, she perfected my bending. She gave me dancing and the guard. But I always wondered if that’s all I was to her. Her protégé. Baatar is a close friend but...he may be expecting something of me I cannot give him.

Then you appeared and I couldn’t understand why on earth you kept showing up. The recitals, the secret gatherings. And now we have these meals together and we actually talk. You ask me about my day, how I’m feeling. And it’s genuine.”

Kuvira’s hand trails down from your shoulder to your forearm, where she curls her gloved fingers around the muscle and squeezes gently. Her eyes refuse to meet yours, instead moving to the place where your bodies touch. The hairs on your neck rise as her thumb rubs a circle into your sleeve. 

“No one has ever truly asked about me. Not in that way,” she whispers and for the first time ever you hear an unmistakable twinge of sadness in her voice. 

You have known Kuvira to be predominantly fierce, commanding, and stoic. She is calculative and difficult to read. Even in the moments where you dare to ask about matters unrelated to the Empire, she is usually quite distant. She is an unyielding woman and you deeply admire that about her. 

So to see this side of her is astonishing in a way you can’t quite name. You anchor yourself in the grounding touch of her palm and wade through her words as they hang in the air. 

The sound of your name pulls you back and she’s continued speaking. “I need you to know that there is no one here I trust more than you,” she confesses. 

The revelation collapses on you like an unexpected rainfall. It’s almost as if a part of you sensed it coming, saw the grey clouds swaying in the sky. 

But it stuns you into stillness nonetheless, the weight of the words falling like thick drops of water that coat your skin and make it hard to move. The silence of the evening is somehow drowned out by roaring in your ears. 

“Kuvira…” The syllables fit differently in your mouth now, a supplication more than a name. You don’t know what you’re asking of her. 

She instantly removes her hand from you and stands, taking a step forward so there is more distance between you. “Don’t give me that,” she rasps. She’s facing away so you can’t see her face but the shadow of her figure is completely stiff. “I ask nothing of you and I certainly don’t need your pity. My only desire is that you keep this conversation between us.”

“What are you talking about?” you fret. The snag in your voice causes her to turn towards you, watching you with a semblance of resentment and distress. 

“I don’t pity you,” you continue. “This just...I can’t wrap my head around it, okay? Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for the betterment of our people, yes. But I also do it for you. Don’t you see that? I want to be there for you.” 

You laugh humorlessly at the stunned expression on Kuvira’s face. “It’s always been you, Kuvira,” you reveal. “From the minute I saw you in that newspaper, it was always you. You’re brilliant and intimidating and strong and powerful. But you’re human. You deserve to be treated like one.” 

“Why?” she asks, voice tight. You stand up and force yourself into her space, tossing all reservations aside. “Because every human being deserves that, Kuvira. Including you. Especially you,” you tell her. With a small step forward, you close the gap between you both and shakily rest your palms on her arms. 

“You don’t need a reason to be cared for, Kuvira,” you say, letting your hands rub in what you hope is a reassuring movement. “Yes, you are the Great Uniter. You are leading this massive and historic movement that will be remembered for generations. But you get tired. You get stressed. You feel anger and disappointment. I see it. I don’t know if anyone else does but I do. And I want you to hold space for those things.”

At this point Kuvira’s eyes have closed completely and it’s evident that she’s holding her mouth closed with great force. You wonder if anyone has ever told Kuvira these things but the tautness of her body indicates otherwise. 

Moments that could be seconds or hours pass before her eyelids flicker open and she’s looking directly into you. She’s looking at something deep inside you and you feel exposed, vulnerable. But this time it’s not dreadful at all. You let her search for what she needs and hang onto her arms as she does. 

Without moving her gaze, her hands lift from her sides and pull away her gloves, dropping them to the ground. She moves towards your face, cupping your cheeks with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. Out of its own accord, your head allows itself to sink into her touch and your eyelids flutter close.

The next moment is absolutely surreal. You can’t see it but you feel her face drift towards yours until her steady breath washes over your senses. Her scent is soft and fresh, much like the mist that has settled around you. Her presence is much like the earth itself — firm, crisp, invigorating.

Kuvira’s mouth rests just above yours and you both stand totally unmoving before she finally asks, “May I?”

The “yes” is out of your mouth before you can register the question and then a gentle yet ardent warmth touches your lips and spreads throughout your limbs. Kuvira’s hands tighten ever so softly around your face, pulling you closer yet holding you like a sacred treasure. 

Her bare palms against your skin evoke an overwhelming sensation of euphoria — it’s so tremendous it nearly causes your legs to give out beneath you. The initial touch of your lips is tentative as you both process what’s actually happening. You leave your eyes closed so you can focus entirely on every point where Kuvira’s body connects to yours. 

Her fingertips resting on your cheekbones, her palms cupping your jaw, the pleasant tickle of her hair skimming across your forehead. 

Deep in the most secluded burrows of your mind, you have fantasized over this exact moment so many times but the reality is so much more intoxicating than you could have ever imagined. Kuvira’s mouth is supple and warm, whereas you had always imagined it to feel much cooler. You don’t anticipate the reverent way she holds you in place, with a sweetness that fills your mind with some ethereal haze. 

When Kuvira’s lips hesitantly move against yours, the shock in your body collapses completely and you fall against her chest, draping your arms around her neck with a soft whimper. 

The pressure appears to set her off as well. Her hands shift slightly so one is twisted in your hair, pulling you closer while the other cups your jaw. A visible shiver ripples through your bones when your lower lip is tugged by the slow drag of Kuvira’s teeth. 

She is slow and gentle, gauging your reaction with each deliberate movement. When your embrace tightens, she takes this as encouragement to sink her teeth ever so lightly into the soft flesh, making you gasp. You feel her mouth curl into a grin before she lazily sucks your lip, effectively turning your muscles into a quivering mess. 

When you pull away it’s with a great deal of reluctance. You keep your eyes closed, afraid that if you open them you will lose your grasp on the excitement that vibrates through every inch of your body. You feel Kuvira’s forehead rest on yours and her arms settle somewhere along your back. There is silence for a while and you can tell she’s waiting for you to break it. 

But the words don’t come, because in your mind a single sound could shatter this magical space in time you’re in. So instead, you let your eyes open and look into Kuvira’s eyes. They are brewing with an endearing combination of uncertainty and bliss. 

You smile reassuringly, leaning up just enough to press your lips to the corner of her mouth. A low sigh eases from her chest and her face begins to glow with unquestionable delight. 

“Thank you,” she murmurs eventually, pulling your hands into her own and bringing them to her mouth. She speaks the words into your fingers once more, pressing a deep kiss against your knuckles. 

You simply nod and don’t bother to conceal the smile her gesture produces. Pulling your hands away, you wrap yourself around her once more, resting your face against the soothing crook of her neck. 

With a single kiss to her throat, you seal a silent promise between you and Kuvira. When her arms encircle your head, pulling you closer as her face sinks into your hair, you both revel in the gleaming excitement of what’s to come.

[starblazerm31]

The Arcana HC Main 6 As Retail Workers

So I’ve worked retail the majority of my working life.  Took things I’ve seen and applied it to the characters of The Arcana.

Asra

He's that one guy who gets along with (almost) everybody.

Works hard, moves with ungodly speed.

Leaves pranks scattered around the back room.  Waits patiently for a yelp followed by a "Dammit, Asra!!"

Did Asra just clear that pallet in fifteen minutes?!  Yes, he did.

Customers love him.  He's very helpful and polite, even to Karens...ESPECIALLY to Karens

He's one of those guys who knows exactly where everything in the store is.

He's also that guy who is ALWAYS stoned at work, but no one can tell.

Takes longer breaks than he should, but no one cares because he's so damn good at his job

Brings an amazing homecooked lunch.

Started laying down heavy spices on it when it started to get stolen.

It didn't get stolen again.

Nadia

She's the general manager.

God level customer service skills.  Her store's surveys are always overflowing with positive customer satisfaction scores.

She's one of those rare gems of a boss who gets work done but also retains the respect of her team.

Her store looks immaculate.

She's kinda stern on dress code.  You represent this store, you gotta look sharp.  Did you even comb your hair today?  Wash your face?  Brush your teeth?  She notices.

Karens beware.  She can see through your shit.

She doesn't tolerate customers abusing her team members.  You're yelling at an employee?  No reason is a good reason, but there had better actually be a problem.  Otherwise, enjoy your store ban.

Takes care of her team.  We have a really big sale coming up that is expected to fill the store with customers.  Amazing food and ALL THE SODA will be provided in the break room.  Enjoy!  Hey, you seem really down today.  Do you need to talk?  Let's go to my office where you can vent.

Asra, Julian, this is the second time I've caught you two loafing.  Please get back to work.

Actually gets out there and works with her team.  It's a truck day?  Nadia is out there pushing stock with them.  The cash registers are backed up?  She logs on and starts ringing people up.

Doesn't take District's bull.  No, that's a terrible plan for my store.  Why?  Because it impedes on *proceeds to list a mile and a half's reasons as to why corporate's new plan is a terrible idea*

Julian

He's not fast, but he sure is efficient.

He's one of the guys always having to take huge items to customers' cars.

One of the best in sales.  He knows tons of random facts about tons of things in the store, is good with people, and is honest.  Yeah...you might not want that one, honestly.  This one is made by a better manufacturer, has really positive ratings on Amazon, and comes with a warranty.

Is the guy most likely to reply "I'm with a customer, can someone else get that for me?" when called on the walkie.

Smokes (Vapes) with Asra and Muriel during lunch and after work.

Can always be found on top of a ladder in the back room.

Never seems to stop moving...  It is said that only Nadia has seen Julian loaf.  But then again, Nadia sees everything.

There are five Monster Javas in the break room fridge.  They are all Julian's.  Ah, so THERE's where that energy comes from...

Works here part/full time while going to med school.  Damn, dude.

Is usually the recipient of Asra's pranks.

Gets constantly asked if he can pull something down from a high shelf by a customer/fellow employee.

Muriel

The other guy hauling big items to people's cars.

Head of the truck line.  Dude can toss boxes like no one else.

Knows that the store would indeed be fucked without him (And Nadia is painfully aware of this too), so he loafs and hides when he feels like it.

Tries not to interact with customers much.  When he has to, he does so begrudgingly.  He'll tell them what they need to know, then shuffle away quickly.

Can usually be found high up on a lift, fiddling with something or bringing down a huge pallet from back stock.

The master of spill cleaning.

He's the powerhouse that comes on to the sales floor with two huge pallets of dogfood stacked as tall as he is, and he still manages to get it all stocked on the shelves before anyone really notices.

If he doesn't know where something is, he is quick to hand the customer off to another team member...the thing is, he knows where everything in the store is.  Muriel...

He is the guy who is really mysterious to other co-workers.  They will huddle together in groups and titter about him while watching him lift something really heavy.

Hangs out with Asra a lot, and knows exactly where he hid his pranks.

He and Asra take way too many tok-erm-smoke breaks.

Portia

Works the customer service desk.

Super polite to everyone, but salty enough to use that politeness to make Karens look like idiots.

Takes care of her cashiers.  She makes sure they have enough change, enough rolls of receipt tape, and keeps up with each one's break periods.

She allows the cashiers to keep a drink at their register, as long as they don't drink in front of customers.

No one stands around bored.  There really is plenty to do.  Restock the candy and gum.  Wipe down your register.  No one likes a gunky pin pad.

Is usually the one making all the calls on the walkie.

Multitasking queen.  Ringing up refunds while calling for carry-outs on the walkie AND taking phone calls?  Yes, Portia can.

Complaints come to Portia before they go to Nadia.

Like Julian, she never seems to stop moving...

Store re-shop (the stuff people leave lying around and return for refunds) gets sorted quickly and efficiently.  And she makes sure the store team know when they have re-shop for their department.

Keeps up with store goals.  Sales goals, credit card sign-ups, website referrals, everything.

Lucio

Assistant Manager.

No one can freaking stand him.

When he leaves, you can guarantee one of the team members is hissing "Man, I swear I'm gonna quit, this is BULLSHIT!"

Best salesman on the floor (pretty much the only reason he still has this job), and he makes sure everyone knows it.  Your customer bought the vacuum and bags?  Cute.  I got a lady to buy a 60" HD flatscreen, video cables, sound system, AND sold three-year warranties on them all.  Mmmm...smell that commission.

He's that manager that can completely demoralize a good situation.  You got all the stock put out an hour and a half early?  Good job, guys!  Now get to work on the new displays for the month.  And remember...I'll be checking on each of you to point out your mistakes.

When he's not oppressing the store team, he can usually be found in his office browsing his phone.

The only reason he doesn't hand out pointless write-ups like candy is because Nadia won't let him.

The Karen asskisser.

The intended recipient of Asra's pranks.

Tried to get Asra, Muriel, and Julian in trouble for smoking, but Nadia quickly told him that they did more work and held more influence in this store than he ever would.  In short...they weren't replaceable.  He was.

Was the person stealing Asra's lunch.  Spent the rest of the day running to the bathroom.  He never touched Asra's lunch again.

@bazzpop @alongtherailway @i-am-arcana-trash @count-lucios-titties @ilyasterisk @apprentice-grace @arcanathots @arcanamemes @the-arcana-fluff-and-stuff @ryanthatsgay

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 0.3 - MYG

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,206

AN: Now it’s Yoongi’s time to shine. And that is an allusion to different things. I’ll let you decide what I’m talking about. As I stated before, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432​

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Heavy grunts of pain rang out in the storage shed. The distinct sound of something large hitting something soft echoed in the small space. A sliver of light pooled in through the foggy window, illuminating the particles of dust that lingered in the air. Every so often, something wet would hit the wall or the floor. Sometimes both.

“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Not gonna join in?”

A bat whisked through the air, coming down to land on a person’s back. They yelled out in agony, their fingers scraping across the dirt and concrete beneath them.

“Psh, whatever. You know he thinks he’s too good to get his hands dirty.”

A kick landed true, hitting the person straight in the ribs. They coughed, spittle and blood staining the floor.

“He’s not above watching, though.”

Min Yoongi’s face was as neutral as ever - giving away nothing. A cigarette was perched between his lips, the smoke billowing into his line of sight. He casually brushed at the sleeve of his school uniform, watching his fellow classmates pummel someone relentlessly with no real justification. Other than the kid was a scholarship student and didn’t come from actual money. 

Yoongi didn’t have anything against him personally. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t really have anything to do with him. But he knew that if he didn’t at least participate in some form or fashion, his “friends” would open their stupid fucking mouths and tell their daddies how he didn’t “play nice” with his classmates. These entitled punks were the future of the world - deciding how and when and who would climb up in the ranks in society.

Money talked and the circles that existed within high society were suffocatingly small.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, standing from his chair. He crushed the ember of the cigarette out against the wall before flicking it off to the side. “I’m leaving.”

The three boys stopped their assault on the freshman, eyeballing Yoongi curiously. Curtis, the one who initiated this little event in the first place, cracked his neck as he turned to face him fully. The smirk on his face practically dripped “I am a pompous asshole”.

“Don’t have the stomach for it, Yoon?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned down to pick up his school bag. “No, I just don’t have time to play your bullshit games today.” Yoongi adjusted his jacket sleeve so he could look at his watch. “I have piano lessons in half an hour.”

He bumped his shoulder against Curtis’s chest, silently telling him he needed to get out of his way. The taller man did, stepping to the side so Yoongi could get to the door. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pushed against it and exited the storage shed. The beating continued and he didn’t look back.

“Young Master,” a voice called out to him.

Yoongi looked up, noticing his family’s butler, Roland,  as he stood beside the large black luxury car parked by the side street. He sighed, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes and then stepping toward the vehicle. Roland opened the door for him and without a single glance of acknowledgement, he flopped into the soft leather cushions of the backseat. The passenger side door opened and Roland entered, their driver pulling the car out to head for Yoongi’s next destination.

“Did you have a good day today, Young Master Yoongi?”

He shrugged, propping his elbow along the door to stare out of the window. “It’s whatever,” he replied nonchalantly, “same stupid boring shit day after day. What’s good about any of it?”

Roland cleared his throat some. “Tomorrow is always another day, Young Master.”

“Yes, Roland.” Yoongi closed his eyes. “Yes it is.”

Piano lessons went as they always did. Even when he was irritated, Yoongi always found a way to focus on the music. He didn’t even need to look at the sheet music anymore. He’d memorized everything in his practice books and took to adding his own variations to the music. Classic. Modern. None of it mattered. So long as he could let his body and mind disappear among the keys of ebony and ivory, then that was all he cared about. All he could will himself to care about.

As soon as the hour was over, Yoongi was forced to leave his small sanctuary. He bid his piano teacher farewell as Roland ushered him back out to the car. The next stop was Cram School. The moment of peace, his mental safe haven, was pulled from him as he was thrust into another suffocating atmosphere.

Once again, he was surrounded by the collective Elite - all born and bred for a purpose seemingly “greater” than themselves. A purpose that was determined before their conception; a purpose that wasn’t of their choosing.

It never was.

The real question was why? Why weren’t they able to choose? Who decided that choice was an illusion? 

The professor droned on and on. Yoongi zoned out about halfway through the lecture, his wrist moving back and forth - scribbling notes that had nothing to do with the lesson. Honestly, he wanted to ditch cram school and head to a nearby arcade where he could waste hours mindlessly playing video games with random strangers. At least in that kind of atmosphere, he didn’t have to worry about being judged. Yoongi had no need for a plastic smile and false compliments. He could just be an ordinary teenager and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to make a friend.

But that was a reality that was outside of the realm of possibility for him. Min Yoongi was the heir of a multi-million dollar corporation. Friendship? Purpose? Free of judgment?

That life was far outside of his reach.

“Mister Min.”

Yoongi blinked, his vision focusing back on his notebook. He slowly lifted his head up to see that his teacher and fellow classmates were all eyeballing him. Dropping his pencil, he straightened his posture, feeling the heaviness of their gazes weighing his chest down. 

“Yes?”

“I asked if you would come up and solve this equation.” His teacher, Mr. Jameson, frowned as he set the dry erase marker down. “Are you feeling alright?”

There was a soft pounding at the back of his head, increasing the pressure behind his eyes. Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the pain. But it steadily increased. He groaned, staggering to his feet. 

“Actually, I think I need to go,” he murmured. 

He reached down and scooped up his school bag, disregarding his notebook and pencil box that was still on his desk. A hand fell on his shoulder and Yoongi flung his arm out, knocking the person back roughly. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” His voice boomed through the room, silencing almost everything. For a split second, Yoongi thought he saw the lights flickering a shade of green. “...don’t put your hands on me.”

No one made a move to go after him. He preferred it that way. The pounding at the back of his head was increasing, followed by a distinct ringing sound bouncing around in his ear canals. Beads of sweat bubbled around his temples and dripped from the end of his nose. He ignored the stares of other students and faculty members of the Cram School as he stumbled his way toward the front entrance.

Rain fell in cascading waves, washing over Yoongi’s shoulders and soaking him through almost instantly. His eyes tried to spot where Roland was, but the black sedan was lost among so many other similarly styled vehicles in the area. As he turned to walk down the street, he felt his chest slam into someone. Stumbling back, Yoongi lost his footing and fell to the concrete, his bag slipping from his fingers. 

Looking up through the rain, he saw three men clad in suits. Even in the dark, they wore sunglasses. He found it a little bizarre, but kept his comments to himself. Yoongi saw all three men crane their necks to look down at him simultaneously. They made no motion to help him back to his feet and he, in turn, didn’t move from the ground. There was something immensely foreboding about their presence, causing goosebumps to pepper out across the back of his neck.

“Young Master!”

Yoongi heard Roland’s voice, but he remained focused on the three men in front of him. They never took their eyes off of him and he did the same. A cold feeling snaked up his chest, freezing the inside of his lungs and throat. He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. The pounding in his head intensified, his vision swimming momentarily.

Everything came into sharp focus when he felt his body being yanked up violently. His ears quit ringing and he felt Roland clinging to him protectively. Yoongi’s feet moved at his butler’s insistence, ushering him to where the car was. But just before they were out of earshot, he heard one of the men speak.

“See you again, Mr. Min.”

Roland quickly opened the door and Yoongi hopped inside, his breathing coming in swift intervals. He felt his butler slide into the seat beside him, ordering the driver to make haste. As he did so, he rubbed soothing circles on Yoongi’s back. It did little to quell the raging thunder of his own heartbeat, but at least he could hear the water hitting the window from how fast they were driving in the storm. 

“Young Master.” 

The sound of Roland’s deep voice brought him out of whatever trance Yoongi was placed under. Blinking rapidly, he turned to look at the man that was with him since he was a child. The look on Roland’s face was different; an expression that he’d never seen before. Or was it that he simply hadn’t paid any attention until now?

It was kindness and empathy. Like he, in that moment, could truly understand what Yoongi was feeling.

“R-Roland,” he managed to stammer, his hands reaching out to grasp the sleeves of Roland’s jacket, “w-what is happening?” He coughed. “Who were those guys?”

“Bad men.” Roland’s brows furrowed. “Very bad men.”

“How do you know that?”

“That isn’t as important as what I’m about to tell you next.” He reached behind him, pressing a button on the back panel to raise the divider between the backseat and driver’s cabin. “Young Master, I’m afraid that you’ve been pinged.”

Yoongi felt a lump forming in his throat. “What?” His grip tightened on Roland’s arms. “What the hell does that even mean?!”

“Now that you’re on their radar, they will begin pursuing you. They want to make sure that you won’t be able to discover the truth.”

“What truth, Roland?!” Yoongi felt the adrenaline shredding through his veins. “You’re not making any sense!”

“I’m sorry, Young Master, but I don’t have a lot of time to explain everything in detail. I can only help show you the way.” Roland gently urged Yoongi to release his arms so that he could move them. He placed his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders. “The rest is up to you.”

“Roland…”

Suddenly, Roland reached down below the seat. When he pulled his hand back, he was holding an automatic hand pistol. What calm settled over Yoongi’s heart was instantly destroyed. Roland pressed the button on the back panel, lowering the divider between both sections of the vehicle. 

“Wait, Roland...what are you doing?!”

The butler, the man who’d taken care of him for most of his life, smiled as he aimed the gun at the back of the driver’s head.

“Goodbye, my Young Master.”

He wasn’t fast enough to see what was about to happen. Even if he had, there was no way that Yoongi would have been prepared. The ear splitting crack of the gun firing off made him scream as blood sprayed across the windshield. His hearing was muffled and the ringing returned. Covering his ears was pointless, but he did it anyway.

Yoongi’s center of gravity shifted drastically as the car swerved. Tears streamed down his face as he saw Roland aiming the gun to his own head. The sound that erupted from his body was inhuman, like that of a beast crawling out from the depths of Hell itself. The second gunshot caused a flash of light to flare up in the small space as chunks of meat and bone exploded through the curtain of blood spray. 

There wasn’t enough time for him to mourn. Everything shifted into darkness as strings of green numbers and letters took on the shapes of the vehicle, the driver, and Roland. The terror scratching over his entire body seemed to cease. For a few brief seconds, Yoongi forgot about the two corpses in his presence and how the vehicle was out of control. Reaching a hand out, he tried to touch the strings of code.

The shrill sound of a semi-truck’s horn brought him back to reality. As he turned his head, he was blinded by a set of headlights. They blared on continuously, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was inevitable. 

Yoongi smiled seconds before impact.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[getalittleclosey]

under 50k larry fic rec

hi! i’m becca and i read...so much fic. these rec lists are an accumulation of fic that i’ve read or reread and extra loved from 2016-now. there’s a wide range of stuff here and i think there’s definitely something for everyone!! i divided them up by length so you can check out all those categories below!

please make sure to read tags and warnings on all these fics!! the only things i think i can guarantee is that these are all larry, there’s no non-con, no age play, no eating disorders, no mentions of bg, they end happy, and they’re mostly aus. oh and they’re all on ao3 and some are locked so you’ll need an account! anyway i hope y’all enjoy!!!

under 5k

under 10k

under 25k

under 100k

100k+

☆ the beginning of everything by thedeathchamber 31k

“How do you take it?” Harry asked, pouring tea into a cup.

“Just a dash of milk, please,” Louis cast a look over the small table, filled to capacity. “They’re very fond of you.”

Harry ducked his head, grinning. “They’re trying to impress you.”

Louis smiled, shaking his head. “Why would they want to do that?” he asked as he took the cup Harry passed to him, their fingers brushing for an instant.

“Empathy,” Harry said under his breath.

--

A Belle Époque AU set (mostly) in Paris in which Harry is a struggling artist, in more ways than one, and Louis is a successful theatre critic and a failed writer, more or less.

☆ to kill the mess we’ve made by misandrogyny 43k

And when he's finally standing, Liam fussing over him, rubbing his hand at the red mark blooming on Harry's forehead, does Harry learn two things:

One, he wasn't actually hit that hard, and Tommo--or Louis, rather--is just as pretty when Harry is staring at him head-on and,

Two, Louis is the Adidas model he's going to be working with on today's photo shoot.

(or: AU where Harry and Louis are both models, and they decide being friends-with-benefits is a great idea. It isn't.)

☆ heart open, bloodstain on my sleeve by silkbombs (mulberrygrey) 36k

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry admits, one hand coming to rub the back of his neck, “I stared at you for a good while before I finally got the guts to come up to you. You looked so pretty sitting there, with your little ankles and your pencil in your mouth, so enthralling… art in front of art.”

Louis’ not sure what to say, so he just kind of sits there, eyes bugging out as he stares at Harry.

“I mean, like you’re not an object!” Harry rushes out, babbling.

“I just, there’s something about you that’s so captivating, and maybe it’s the way your eyes are like a watercolor painting of the sea, or how delicate your hands look when you draw, but I just wanted to get to know you. It’s not like I pick up random boys at art museums usually, I swear. Not that I’m trying to pick you up! Unless you want to be…God, fuck I’m sorry this is so awkward now. I can go, um, if you want."

--- Or, the one where Harry's the long limbed, gangly, sweetheart who just happens be a high profile art thief who conducts heists for a living and Louis' the loud, pushy art student who just happens to steal his heart.

☆ a king beside you by stylinsoncity 26k

When the aliens invade, the last thing Louis expects is to fall in love.

☆ the boys of summer by afirethatcannotdie 45k

“I mean…we’re gonna have to sneak around anyway, yeah? Like, with that whole rules thing that I guess we’ve decided to ignore. Might make it a little more fun this way.”

AU. In which Louis is a reluctant sports coach, Harry's a fellow counselor who wears tiny yellow shorts, and camp rules say they're forbidden to date.

☆ don’t let the tide come and take me by kiwikero 29k

The aquarium in the lobby has been there as long as Louis can remember, and so has the merman inside. That is, until the day Louis loses his job and decides to set the creature free.

They set off on a road trip to the sea, learning to communicate more and more each day. Their destination is LA, but the closer they get and the more Louis gets to know the merman, the more he dreads having to say goodbye.

Or, the one where Louis decides to set a merman free and ends up finding his own freedom along the way.

☆ introduction to dynamics by juliusschmidt 29k

Louis Tomlinson is the outspoken omega in the 'Introduction to Dynamics' course Harry wishes he didn't have to take. He's nearly certain to present as a beta, after all. Things will be simple for him.

☆ saved tonight by objectlesson 31k

Harry is the world's most persistent seduction-baker, a questionable dog-sitter, and Louis's biggest fan. Louis hasn't written in years, is trying to pass loneliness off as cynicism, and absolutely hates his fans. It's probably destiny.

☆ once upon a dream by objectlesson 27k

“M’not gonna half-ass our fake relationship,” Louis almost snaps, voice sharp with a defensive edge, like Harry wandered too close to a bruise with needy fingers. “Now kiss me again. We’re gonna make every shitty tourist here wish they had stayed in the Midwest. We’re gonna burn Disneyland down with our gay. ”

Harry shuts his eyes and opens his mouth, because he can’t fucking say no to Louis.

--

Or, a fake dating AU where everyone is lying and they happen to be at the Happiest Place on Earth.

☆ rivers ‘til i reach you by embodied 29k

Louis can’t begin to understand how he’s always this close and still can’t manage to make Harry his. He stands up and gets another beer. AU. Louis studies astronomy; Harry studies Louis. They spend their summers on the water and it shouldn't be complicated (spoiler: it is).

☆ life was a song, you came along by rainbowninja167 38k

It's embarrassing how long it takes Louis to recognize his own song. Niall had sung it as a bright, hopeful love song, and that’s honestly how Louis had always assumed it should sound. But this new voice, slow and rough, stripped of any backing instrument, has infused the lyrics with just the tumultuous mix of fear and defiance that Louis can remember so clearly from the night he wrote them. It’s not a comfortable thing, to feel like someone is singing all your secrets back to you.

Louis is a songwriter trapped in a lie that could ruin his best friend's career. Harry owns a record store, distrusts everyone in the music industry on principle, but loves Niall Horan's newest album. A modern retelling of Singin' in the Rain.

☆ learning to eat by photo41 29k

Celebrity chef Louis Tomlinson has a problem. He’s opening his first restaurant in 9 weeks, and he has yet to hire a pastry chef- apparently people think he’s ‘standoffish’ and ‘rude’ and ‘quick to temper’. Whatever. He ends up saddled with an annoying, happy-go lucky rookie who also happens to be obnoxiously good looking. His tv presenter and pop star best friends only add to the drama, and for fucks sake would everyone please stop quoting Julia Child?!

Kitchen AU where Harry helps Louis re-learn how to eat. (METAPHORICALLY)

note: just to clarify this is NOT an eating disorder fic don’t worry

☆ runner on third by kikikryslee 40k

As Harry stood there, the other man turned around, and he knew he was correct in who he thought it was. “Louis?” he asked, still not quite believing it. Louis blinked. “Harry? Wh– what are you doing here?” “I work here,” Harry said. “What are you doing here?” “Um, I’m picking up my brother. The nurse called and said he was sick.” Harry felt like he was going to be sick. “Wait, Ernest is your brother? Since when do you have a brother?” “Since about seven years ago, I guess. Wait, how do you know Ernest?” “I’m his teacher.” “You’re his what?” Louis exclaimed. Harry gulped. This was going to be a long year. --- Or, the AU where Louis and Harry were best friends growing up, but lost touch after Harry moved away. Ten years later, Harry has moved back to town, but he and Louis don't pick up where they left off.

note: there are four fics in this series that total to 60k

☆ roots by cherrystreet 43k

There aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous. He’s spent the past couple of years on and off various stages, filled with screaming fans, all chanting his name, loud and adoring. He’s done countless interviews, some even on live, national television, never faltering over his words, answers meticulously planned out, smooth and steady. He’s signed countless autographs, taken just as many photos, and even when he sat in his label’s studio, waiting to see how high up on the charts his single made it, he didn’t feel uneasy or uncomfortable. It’s all been unbelievably fun. No, there aren’t many things that make Harry Styles nervous.

Enter Louis Tomlinson.

☆ once upon a dream by thedeathchamber 33k

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

aka. the Medium/Criminal Minds-inspired AU no one ever asked for.

note: there’s a 24k sequel for this!

☆ the melody you never heard by bananasandboots 30k

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

☆ born to make you happy by objectlesson 26k

Harry makes a quiet vow to himself that he will be the very best girlfriend Louis has ever had, even if he never actually gets to be Louis’s girlfriend.

note: i literally had to take a break and reread this cause i love it so much

☆ close to nowhere by angelichl 35k

“I will kill you in your sleep,” Louis threatened as he quickly stepped out of his jeans.

“I don’t think that would work very well baby, seeing as you talk to dead people all the time.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep and ignore your ghost. And don’t call me that.”

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

☆ adrenaline by reveries_passions 38k 

“Harry Styles,” Nameless Boy who now has a name says. Louis is too busy having an internal crisis to realize the boy has just introduced himself as Harry Styles. Harry Styles, only son of Des Styles, PhD, Dean of Harvard Medical School. Harry Styles, known by everyone and their grandmother. Harry Styles, star rower. Harry Styles, youngest enrolled student in graduate school at Harvard University. Oh my god, Louis thinks, mortified. I just slept with Harry Styles. As he reaches out tentatively to shake the boy’s hand, another thought hits him. Oh my god. Harry Styles is gay.

~

louis tomlinson, college dropout, up and coming dj, and gay activist, is the notorious owner of exclusive underground gay club, adrenaline.

harry styles, med student by day, partier by night, child prodigy and seemingly heterosexual son of harvard professors, is the youngest and arguably the smartest student at harvard medical school.

or: a one night stand wasn't supposed to become the greatest love story of the 21st century.

☆ bloodsport by tofiveohfive 40k

“You know how our next game is against the Cardinals, right? You remember how vicious those guys can get. I wanted us to come up with some plays, maybe work on a block from the left—”

Louis stops when he hears a chuckle.

He doesn’t think he’s said anything particularly funny, so he turns to Harry, waiting for an explanation.

“‘S funny, ‘s all.” Harry throws his finished bottle somewhere near the other discarded ones. “This is the first time you’re talking to me in eight months, and it’s still about football.”

☆ the haunting of louis tomlinson helloamhere 31k

“I'm not afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

Every single magnet unstuck itself from the fridge and fell to the floor in a clattering cascade.

“I'm only a little afraid of ghosts,” Louis said.

*** OR: Louis is a plucky Gothic Heroine, Harry is a Mournful Spirit, and Big Country Houses are full of mystery and suspense, as Big Country Houses ever are!

☆ can i not like you for a while? by larryshares 43k

louis tomlinson is awful. harry is just as difficult, and they're both terrible to each other. it makes being in the same acapella group together quite complicated.

☆ delight in masques by kassio 28k

Popstar Louis Tomlinson has been pulling one over on the mortals for years. In the five years since he put on a human illusion and tried out for the X Factor, none of them have realised that he’s one of the Fair Folk – a cat shapeshifter, to be precise – and he’d like to keep it that way.

When he returns to the X Factor as a guest judge, the last thing he expects is for some half-Siren fool to use magic on the judges. Unfortunately, that’s exactly what Harry Styles does. Now Louis has to track down some rogue changeling before he exposes them all. Even worse? Apparently, Harry doesn’t even know what he is.

(An urban fantasy adventure, set in the world of - but not crossing over with - the October Daye book series. No need to be familiar with those books; I just want to give credit where it's due on a lot of the worldbuilding.)

☆ no love like your love by rearviewdreamer 43k

When it comes to saving the world from itself and convincing rich CEOs of environmentally harmful companies to go green, there's nobody better than Harry Styles. That is, until Louis Tomlinson, his ex and former Alpha, is involved.  

note: i love vegan harry styles

☆ for neither never nor ever by fairytalelights 29k

Then Harry looked down. A newspaper was on the steps in front of him, looking new, like it had only just gotten delivered but no one had bothered to carry it inside yet. That, in itself, wasn't unusual. The unusual thing was the headline, Chernobyl - Half a Year Later, and the date in the corner. 5th November 1986. He looked up to stare at the girl in the doorway one last time, before he did the only logical thing his body knew how to do in this situation. He bolted.

or, the one where Harry travels through time and has to come to terms with losing everything he's ever known. Louis might be the only thing that feels real.

☆ worth dying for by whoknows 45k

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

☆ listen to your heart by lovelarry10 35k

Are you kidding me right now?

I… No? Louis frowned, feeling angry now. It wasn’t fair, he knew that, but at the same time, he couldn’t help his feelings. It felt like this had been brewing for weeks, and this was it. Give it a rest, Harry.

Why are you such a brat? Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?

You think I want to hear about you kissing James? Really, H? There’s things I just don’t need to know, okay? I’m your best mate, not your fucking relationship advisor…

*****

Louis has always been comfortable being Harry’s one and only. When Harry starts to branch out, Louis has a hard time letting him go.

Harry is very lucky to have someone who listens to what he has to say, despite the fact that he’s deaf. He’s finally feeling like he’s coming into himself, but Louis seems bothered by his newfound confidence.

☆ another day gettin’ into trouble by whoknows 26k

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

☆ all the right moves by cherrystreet 32k

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

☆ play the odds by alivingfire 26k

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

[burnouts3s3]

Bully, a game review

(Disclaimer: The following is a non-profit unprofessional blog post written by an unprofessional blog poster. All purported facts and statement are little more than the subjective, biased opinion of said blog poster. In other words, don’t take anything I say too seriously.) Just the facts 'Cause you're in a Hurry! Manufacturer’s Suggested Retail Price (MSRP): 14.99 USD How much I paid: 36 USD (10 for the PS3 version and 15 for the Steam Version and 11 for the PS4 version while it was on sale). Rated: T for Teen How long I played: 10 Hours on PC while 2 hours on the PS4 version. Microtransactions: None! What I played on: PS3, PS4 and PC Performance Issues: Bully might be one of my favorite games and it might be one of the WORST PORTS EVER! Holy Shit! If the PS3 version isn’t bogged down with glacial framerates, it has pixelated graphics which are not done service on HD. (The PS3/PS4 versions are merely upscaled and have not been updated). The PS4 version runs much better with no crashes, but has been upscaled rather than remastered. The PC version, while looking better, constantly crashes and will inevitably result in lost progress as you must save manually at specific locations. And of course, that cursed plague returns, as Bully’s PC version is locked at 30 frames per second. My Personal Biases: Bully was one of my favorite games growing up during the PS2 era. So, I’ll probably be biased toward this game. CAVEAT: Bully comes in 2 versions: The original game and the Scholarship edition. The Scholarship edition contains all the content from the original game and adds features such as additional classes/mini-games, more outfits and extra story missions not found in the base game. I believe the anniversary edition is the same as the Scholarship edition only it’s released for mobile phones. (I could be wrong) Please be aware which version you’re getting. My Verdict: There’s no denying that Bully is at times juvenile, immature, naughty and that favorite word, problematic. But, if you can look past the surface, you can see, much like the protagonist Jimmy Hopkins, there’s much more underneath the surface. Buy it! Bully, a game review

"So here I am, at probably the worst school in the country, whose alumni are nothing but arms dealers, serial killers, and corporate lawyers. Real scum. And that old creep thinks he can tame me? We shall see, my friend. I only give people what they have coming to them." — Jimmy Hopkins I don’t know how I can describe Bully in a way that fascinates me and makes it so near and dear in my heart. I was never really a Grand Theft Auto fan. Even, when I was old enough to legally play the game, I always felt detached from the main characters. It wasn’t until GTA IV came out that I really fell in love with the story, only for GTA V to come out and make things go back the way they were. Bully was released during a controversial period in the United States. When Jack Thompson was legislating heavily against game developers and video games violence, Rockstar was releasing Bully, a kid version of Grand Theft Auto. Early footage shown at E3 showed the protagonist doing heinous crimes like giving other kids wedgies, putting a kid’s head in the toilet and defying authority. Parent groups were outraged and a debate occurred whether the game went too far. The end result? Probably one of my favorite games of all time. Jimmy Hopkins is a 15 year old delinquent being sent away by his cold-hearted, gold digging mother and her fifth husband. Jimmy, having been expelled from multiple schools faces his last chance at the boarding school of Bullworth Academy. After he’s dropped off, he soon meets Gary Smith, an intelligent student who might not have the best of intentions, and Pete Kowalski, a shy boy who can’t even make friends with the geeks. Jimmy plans to get the bullies off his back and rule the school by taking out the Bullworth Cliques, the nerds, the Preps, the Greasers and the Jocks. But as Jimmy helps his fellow students (and a dysfunctional staff member or two), he learns that Gary doesn’t have his best interests in mind. What’s interesting about Bully is that Jimmy, unless dictated by the player, isn’t usually inclined to cause harm. Rather, he attempts to get payback from the various cliques who do cross his paths. (There’s been a long standing rumor that says that Bully changed its story and premise after the reaction from E3, changing Jimmy from a villain protagonist to more of an anti-hero). A lot of the criticism the game received was how small the world was and how limited Jimmy’s actions are, compared to the ground breaking Grand Theft Auto 3. Jimmy won’t be able to steal cars or kill any NPC’s. Instead, he can commit petty crimes such as shooting people with his slingshot, tagging on walls or pranking people he comes across. The delinquency meter shows the various amounts of trouble Jimmy can get into. Should he commit minor crimes such as being out of uniform or ditching class, he’ll be in minor trouble. But, violence against students, disrespecting authority or trespassing into the girl’s dormitory will send the local authorities (Prefects and teachers while in school, police officers out of school) after him. If Jimmy gets caught, he’ll be sent to the Principal’s office. Detention consists of mini-games such as using the school mower to mow lawns. But, there’s a benefit to attending class. Should you go to class, you’ll be treated to a mini-game. Completing a course will earn you benefits in the outside game world. For example, passing chemistry class allows you to make have a chem set in your room where you can create ‘weapons’ such as firecrackers, while going to English Class helps you apologize to authority figures for committing various crimes. My favorite is Art Class, where in the bonus is being able to get an extra bar of health when kissing girls. Should Jimmy complete all of his coursework (that is to say, finish all 5 difficulty levels of the mini-games), he’ll be excused from class be given free time. But it’s not all schoolwork and Frenching cheerleaders. There’s a variety of mini-games in the world such as Boxing, bike races, Carnival Games and of course, a huge number of collectables found throughout the game. If Jimmy’s strapped for cash, he can always take up a paper route. The strangest thing about Bully is that it’s a very small game. Even games like Grand Theft Auto III had a variety of environments and locations to explore with its small size. But Bullworth Acadmey and the town of Bullworth are small to explore. It creates a sense of intimacy. I can’t get lost in the world of Bullworth but I can become so intimate that the NPCs become familiar to me. That’s something special a lot of games don’t do. I’d rather have the familiarity of Bully over the vastness and at times emptiness of the Grand Theft Auto games, especially the modern ones. I should mention that the composer for the game, Shawn Lee, gave some of the most memorable music I’ve heard this side of some of the best soundtracks. Where Grand Theft Auto had licensed songs from various artists, Bully only has an original soundtrack, but it’s so alive and varied that I caught myself listening to it again and again.

Tying it all together is Gerry Rosenthal as Jimmy. While it’s great to hear familiar voice actors, such as Martin Mull as the Headmaster, Rosenthal’s performance just manages to combine that weird teenage angst that makes the main character so relatable. Kudos to him. What really sold me was the story. I surprisingly found myself relating to Jimmy’s struggle to get through his school days and how he acts and reacts to the world around him. While Jimmy is no saint or perfect student, it does show that the world Jimmy inhabits is a flawed, corrupt and outright dirty society. All the cliques that Jimmy faces, whether it’d be the classist preppies, the posturing Greasers or the testosterone-filled Jocks, are shown to be bullies but in different ways. Meanwhile most of the adults and authority figures are two faced hypocrites. When Jimmy sees his gym teacher trying to sneak dirty magazines out of a pornography store, it becomes apparent why Jimmy doesn’t have any respect for authority. At the same time, I found certain NPCs not only memorable but also rather likable. There’s something about Jimmy helping out the strange homeless man in the Junkyard or spitting food with Edna, the lunch lady, that brings a smile to my face. So while the game holds up in terms of mechanic and I still find the characters and story charming, it pains me to say this has some of the worst ports to date. The PC version constantly crashes. I don’t know who was responsible for it, but given the number of crashes I experienced (as well as the frustration having to save your progress manually), I nearly broke my screen in frustration. Worse yet, Bully is locked at 30 Frames Per Second. The PS4 remastered version is more playable, but only features the vanilla version of the game. Closing thoughts: There’s a lot to say about bullying, the role of bullies and how our society now views bullies. And while I can’t comment on Jimmy’s reactions to the various groups of the schools will look like 50 years from now, I will say I had a blast firing my slingshot, riding my bike and getting into as much trouble with Jimmy Hopkins. It’s not what a game is about, it’s how it’s about it. Verdict: As long as you don’t get the PC Version, go buy it!

[fatimawithouth]

Goodbye, I don’t wish to have you anymore.

Once and for all, I want to let this thing out of my chest so that it won’t bother me next year. I had enough for allowing this thought to hunt me this year and it’s not healthy because it wujudkan overthinking HAHA.

As a lady, I always wanted the best for my fellow sisters i.e. family, friends and even strangers. I think women are so special and we need to have a very high level of standard in guarding ourselves. We even have surah in Al-Quran that khusus for us, An-Nisaa. See how special women are 🖤

So, I think kita semua ini kena at our max best effort to safeguard ourselves from harming our heart and soul. Especially by entering into a wrong relationship. A wrong relationship that obviously, we know why it’s wrong. I.E., being in love with someone’s partner.

Before I further do. I acknowledged that it takes two to tango. But hey, lelaki can come out with all kinds of excuses to make it happen. And I don’t want to talk about that because I don’t really care about them. Lagi pun they actually have the liberty to marry more than one.

So why I want to focus on women instead of men? Well, because I am woman and I strongly believed if we take care of ourselves, we won’t hurt ourselves. Bila kita jaga diri kita, jaga hati kita, insyaAllah Allah akan hadirkan calon yang baik untuk kita.

 “Wanita solehah itu tidak suka dikenali dan mengenali. Tidak suka memandang dan dipandang. Di bibirnya tidak meniti nama-nama lelaki & di bibir-bibir lelaki tidak meniti namanya.” (Sayidatina Fatimah Az Zahra Radhiallahu’anha)

There are too many stories yang kita baca, dengar pasal perempuan nak sailang suami orang. Its scary but that is the fact nowadays. Even drama pun banyak cerita pasal benda ini. This got me thinking, why on earth we want to steal our sister happiness? Boleh ke kita bahagia bila kita ambil hak orang?

Jadi, bilamana kita ada berkawan dengan lelaki yang dimiliki oleh seseorang, lebih-lebih lagi lelaki itu seorang suami dan ayah. Tak kisah lah alasan apa yang diberi oleh lelaki itu. Contohnya dalam cerita World of Marriage, lelaki itu claimed dia on the way nak bercerai dengan isteri dia walhal dia balik rumah dia relax je dengan isteri dia. Contohnya, my friend kenal dengan suami orang and that guy said he was not happy with his wife walhal kalau tengok social media isteri buat surprise bla bla. Oh yeah, dalam documentary American Murder: The Family Next Door, its show how lelaki can manipulate evrything and the list goes on and on. 

 My advice if this situation happen, ask that person "oh nak cerai, masih duduk serumah?" "what stage is your cerai case?" if the answer is "masih duduk serumah" "baru process rundingan". Then you should stop before going further and further. Tell that guy "if you dah cerai or dalam trial nak cerai, then I boleh consider nak kenal you otherwise I respect you as someone else husband".

Why? Anything can happen if they still live under one rooftop. Boleh jadi yang Allah akan bukakkan hati mereka and bagi mereka rasa kemanisan dalam perkahwinan. Sebab mereka are still in a relationship that build in the name of Allah. Halal. Obviously they are under Allah's protection and for sure Allah help them. Jika mereka or one of them ada usaha dan niat yang baik. Salah seorang daripada mereka pasti akan berdoa dengan bersungguh-sungguh untuk diberi petunjuk dalam hubungan mereka. Mungkin ada jugak doa ibu bapa pasangan ini yang sentiasa mahu mereka terus kekal hingga ke Jannah.

But but but, if we are the stranger yang berada dalam hubungan yang not even halal pun and kita pun doa kepada Allah, do you think Allah will help us or pasangan tersebut? Barangkali percentage kita kurang berbanding pasangan itu. Tapi Allah tak kejam, banyak benda yang Allah lebih tahu mana yang terbaik untuk kita.

Here, to talk about iktilat. Bila cakap pasal ini then orang akan cakap, "kalau macam itu macam mana nak jumpa jodoh?" Honey bee, you can be friend with any guy you wish but have limit. Jangan cepat sangat ucap kata-kata cintan puitan, cakap rindu, giving mini love and jangan cepat luah kata-kata cinta. Worst is keluar berdating dengan suami orang. Nauzubillahiminzalik. Tolonglah jangan murah memberi pada benda yang tak patut. Jika there is ikatan, cakaplah apa nak cakap, bagilah berapa banyak mini love pun, rindu lah serindu rindunya. When you do that  you yourself pun akan rasa manisnya relationship tue. Jadilah seperti iceberg yang susah nak cair bukan seperti ice cream chillin chillin ice cream chillin 🍦

Working in corporate world and see a lot of scandal here and there. Takut weyh. Kat office relax keluar lunch berdating tapi balik rumah relax macam takde apa apa. Simpan second phone at the office in order taknak kantoi. 😑 And it keep me wonder, tak rasa serba salah ke kat pasangan? Tak rasa bersalah kat anak-anak? And how do you feel if your pasangan is doing the same thing? Ya allah ya allah, may Allah protect me from this. 

Nabi SAW dah naikkan martabat kaum wanita setinggi-tingginya. Tinggi sangat nilai kita sebagai wanita. Jangan sia-siakan itu. Dan jangan takut untuk jaga diri. Tapi percayalah, Allah akan hantar jodoh yang hebat untuk kita bila kita jaga diri. Yakin.

Apa-apa pun, if happen that your jodoh is with someone husband or tunang orang or boyfriend orang. Allah will surely make it easy for both of you.

Jika suami orang, boleh jadi sang isteri yang tolong pinangkan you on behalf of her suami like what tular in social media. And if happen, that your jodoh is with someone husband, process nak jadi bermadu itu tidak akan susah. Sebab apa, again Allah SWT Al-Aliim akan bantu dan permudahkan mana yang baik untuk kita.

One last thing, remember, what goes around comes around. Jika hari ini kita ambil hak orang, boleh jadi suatu hari nanti ada hak kita yang akan diambil either directly or indirectly.

Sending a lot of prayer to my sisters out there who still searching for a soulmate. May Allah ease for you 💐

GOODBYE THOUGHTS! 

tetiba teringat. dulu i never really wanted to get married hehe. i even told my mom "tanak lah kawin, nak kawin ngan Nabi Isa bila dia turun dunia nanti" hahaha my crazy berangan. eh but alhamdulillah i am happily married to wonderful man now. alhamdulillah

[thefortyeightlawsofpower-blog]

LAW # 21 : PLAY A SUCKER TO CATCH A SUCKER—SEEM DUMBER THAN YOUR MARK

JUDGEMENT

No one likes feeling stupider than the next person. The trick, then, is to make your victims feel smart—and not just smart, but smarter than you are. Once convinced of this, they will never suspect that you may have ulterior motives.

In the winter of 1872, the U.S. financier Asbury Harpending was visiting London when he received a cable: A diamond mine had been discovered in the American West. The cable came from a reliable source—William Ralston, owner of the Bank of California—but Harpending nevertheless took it as a practical joke, probably inspired by the recent discovery of huge diamond mines in South Africa. True, when reports had first come in of gold being discovered in the western United States, everyone had been skeptical, and those had turned out to be true. But a diamond mine in the West! Harpending showed the cable to his fellow financier Baron Rothschild (one of the richest men in the world), saying it must be a joke. The baron, however, replied, “Don’t be too sure about that. America is a very large country. It has furnished the world with many surprises already. Perhaps it has others in store.” Harpending promptly took the first ship back to the States.

Now, there is nothing of which a man is prouder than of intellectual ability, for it is this that gives him his commanding place in the animal world. It is an exceedingly rash thing to let anyone see that you are decidedly superior to him in this respect, and to let other people see it too.... hence, white rank and riches may always reckon upon deferential treatment in society, that is something which intellectual ability can never expect To be ignored is the greatest favour shown to it; and if people notice it at all, it is because they regard it us a piece of impertinence, or else as something to which its possessor has no legitimate right, and upon which he dares to pride himself; and in retaliation and revenge for his conduct, people secretly try and humiliate him in some other way; unit if they wait to do this, it is only for a fitting opportunity. A man may be as humble as possible in his demeanour and yet hardly ever get people to overlook his crime in standing intellectually above them. In the Garden of Roses, Sadi makes the remark: “You should know that foolish people are a hundredfold more averse to meeting the wise than the wise are indisposed for the company of the foolish.”

On the other hand, it is a real recommendation to be stupid. For just as warmth is agreeable to the body, so it does the mind good to feel its superiority; and a man will seek company likely to give him this feeling, as instinctively as he will approach the fireplace or walk in the sun if he wants to get warm. But this means that he will be disliked on account of his superiority; and if a man is to be liked, he must really be inferior in point of intellect.

ARTHUR SCHOPENHAUER, 1788-1860

When Harpending reached San Francisco, there was an excitement in the air recalling the Gold Rush days of the late 1840s. Two crusty prospectors named Philip Arnold and John Slack had been the ones to find the diamond mine. They had not divulged its location, in Wyoming, but had led a highly respected mining expert to it several weeks back, taking a circular route so he could not guess his whereabouts. Once there, the expert had watched as the miners dug up diamonds. Back in San Francisco the expert had taken the gems to various jewelers, one of whom had estimated their worth at $1.5 million.

Harpending and Ralston now asked Arnold and Slack to accompany them back to New York, where the jeweler Charles Tiffany would verify the original estimates. The prospectors responded uneasily—they smelled a trap: How could they trust these city slickers? What if Tiffany and the financiers managed to steal the whole mine out from under them? Ralston tried to allay their fears by giving them $100,000 and placing another $300,000 in escrow for them. If the deal went through, they would be paid an additional $300,000. The miners agreed.

The little group traveled to New York, where a meeting was held at the mansion of Samuel L. Barlow. The cream of the city’s aristocracy was in attendance—General George Brinton McClellan, commander of the Union forces in the Civil War; General Benjamin Butler; Horace Greeley, editor of the newspaper the New York Tribune; Harpending; Ralston; and Tiffany. Only Slack and Arnold were missing—as tourists in the city, they had decided to go sight-seeing.

When Tiffany announced that the gems were real and worth a fortune, the financiers could barely control their excitement. They wired Rothschild and other tycoons to tell them about the diamond mine and inviting them to share in the investment. At the same time, they also told the prospectors that they wanted one more test: They insisted that a mining expert of their choosing accompany Slack and Arnold to the site to verify its wealth. The prospectors reluctantly agreed. In the meantime, they said, they had to return to San Francisco. The jewels that Tiffany had examined they left with Harpending for safekeeping.

Several weeks later, a man named Louis Janin, the best mining expert in the country, met the prospectors in San Francisco. Janin was a born skeptic who was determined to make sure that the mine was not a fraud. Accompanying Janin were Harpending, and several other interested financiers. As with the previous expert, the prospectors led the team through a complex series of canyons, completely confusing them as to their whereabouts. Arriving at the site, the financiers watched in amazement as Janin dug the area up, leveling anthills, turning over boulders, and finding emeralds, rubies, sapphires, and most of all diamonds. The dig lasted eight days, and by the end, Janin was convinced: He told the investors that they now possessed the richest field in mining history. “With a hundred men and proper machinery,” he told them, “I would guarantee to send out one million dollars in diamonds every thirty days.”

Returning to San Francisco a few days later, Ralston, Harpending, and company acted fast to form a $10 million corporation of private investors. First, however, they had to get rid of Arnold and Slack. That meant hiding their excitement—they certainly did not want to reveal the field’s real value. So they played possum. Who knows if Janin is right, they told the prospectors, the mine may not be as rich as we think. This just made the prospectors angry. Trying a different tactic, the financiers told the two men that if they insisted on having shares in the mine, they would end up being fleeced by the unscrupulous tycoons and investors who would run the corporation ; better, they said, to take the $700,000 already offered—an enormous sum at the time—and put their greed aside. This the prospectors seemed to understand, and they finally agreed to take the money, in return signing the rights to the site over to the financiers, and leaving maps to it.

News of the mine spread like wildfire. Prospectors fanned out across Wyoming. Meanwhile Harpending and group began spending the millions they had collected from their investors, buying equipment, hiring the best men in the business, and furnishing luxurious offices in New York and San Francisco.

A few weeks later, on their first trip back to the site, they learned the hard truth: Not a single diamond or ruby was to be found. It was all a fake. They were ruined. Harpending had unwittingly lured the richest men in the world into the biggest scam of the century.

Interpretation

Arnold and Slack pulled off their stupendous con not by using a fake engineer or bribing Tiffany: All of the experts had been real. All of them honestly believed in the existence of the mine and in the value of the gems. What had fooled them all was nothing else than Arnold and Slack themselves. The two men seemed to be such rubes, such hayseeds, so naive, that no one for an instant had believed them capable of an audacious scam. The prospectors had simply observed the law of appearing more stupid than the mark—the deceiver’s First Commandment.

The logistics of the con were quite simple. Months before Arnold and Slack announced the “discovery” of the diamond mine, they traveled to Europe, where they purchased some real gems for around $12,000 (part of the money they had saved from their days as gold miners). They then salted the “mine” with these gems, which the first expert dug up and brought to San Francisco. The jewelers who had appraised these stones, including Tiffany himself, had gotten caught up in the fever and had grossly overestimated their value. Then Ralston gave the prospectors $100,000 as security, and immediately after their trip to New York they simply went to Amsterdam, where they bought sacks of uncut gems, before returning to San Francisco. The second time they salted the mine, there were many more jewels to be found.

The effectiveness of the scheme, however, rested not on tricks like these but on the fact that Arnold and Slack played their parts to perfection. On their trip to New York, where they mingled with millionaires and tycoons, they played up their clodhopper image, wearing pants and coats a size or two too small and acting incredulous at everything they saw in the big city. No one believed that these country simpletons could possibly be conning the most devious, unscrupulous financiers of the time. And once Harpending, Ralston, and even Rothschild accepted the mine’s existence, anyone who doubted it was questioning the intelligence of the world’s most successful businessmen.

In the end, Harpending’s reputation was ruined and he never recovered; Rothschild learned his lesson and never fell for another con; Slack took his money and disappeared from view, never to be found. Arnold simply went home to Kentucky. After all, his sale of his mining rights had been legitimate; the buyers had taken the best advice, and if the mine had run out of diamonds, that was their problem. Arnold used the money to greatly enlarge his farm and open up a bank of his own.

KEYS TO POWER

The feeling that someone else is more intelligent than we are is almost intolerable. We usually try to justify it in different ways: “He only has book knowledge, whereas I have real knowledge.” “Her parents paid for her to get a good education. If my parents had had as much money, if I had been as privileged....” “He’s not as smart as he thinks.” Last but not least: “She may know her narrow little field better than I do, but beyond that she’s really not smart at all. Even Einstein was a boob outside physics.”

Given how important the idea of intelligence is to most people’s vanity, it is critical never inadvertently to insult or impugn a person’s brain power. That is an unforgivable sin. But if you can make this iron rule work for you, it opens up all sorts of avenues of deception. Subliminally reassure people that they are more intelligent than you are, or even that you are a bit of a moron, and you can run rings around them. The feeling of intellectual superiority you give them will disarm their suspicion-muscles.

In 1865 the Prussian councillor Otto von Bismarck wanted Austria to sign a certain treaty. The treaty was totally in the interests of Prussia and against the interests of Austria, and Bismarck would have to strategize to get the Austrians to agree to it. But the Austrian negotiator, Count Blome, was an avid cardplayer. His particular game was quinze, and he often said that he could judge a man’s character by the way he played quinze. Bismarck knew of this saying of Blome’s.

The night before the negotiations were to begin, Bismarck innocently engaged Blome in a game of quinze. The Prussian would later write, “That was the very last time I ever played quinze. I played so recklessly that everyone was astonished. I lost several thousand talers [the currency of the time], but I succeeded in fooling [Blome], for he believed me to be more venturesome than I am and I gave way.” Besides appearing reckless, Bismarck also played the witless fool, saying ridiculous things and bumbling about with a surplus of nervous energy.

All this made Blome feel he had gathered valuable information. He knew that Bismarck was aggressive—the Prussian already had that reputation, and the way he played had confirmed it. And aggressive men, Blome knew, can be foolish and rash. Accordingly, when the time came to sign the treaty, Blome thought he had the advantage. A heedless fool like Bismarck, he thought, is incapable of cold-blooded calculation and deception, so he only glanced at the treaty before signing it—he failed to read the fine print. As soon as the ink was dry, a joyous Bismarck exclaimed in his face, “Well, I could never have believed that I should find an Austrian diplomat willing to sign that document!”

The Chinese have a phrase, “Masquerading as a swine to kill the tiger.” This refers to an ancient hunting technique in which the hunter clothes himself in the hide and snout of a pig, and mimics its grunting. The mighty tiger thinks a pig is coming his way, and lets it get close, savoring the prospect of an easy meal. But it is the hunter who has the last laugh.

Masquerading as a swine works wonders on those who, like tigers, are arrogant and overconfident: The easier they think it is to prey on you, the more easily you can turn the tables. This trick is also useful if you are ambitious yet find yourself low in the hierarchy: Appearing less intelligent than you are, even a bit of a fool, is the perfect disguise. Look like a harmless pig and no one will believe you harbor dangerous ambitions. They may even promote you since you seem so likable, and subservient. Claudius before he became emperor of Rome, and the prince of France who later became Louis XIII, used this tactic when those above them suspected they might have designs on the throne. By playing the fool as young men, they were left alone. When the time came for them to strike, and to act with vigor and decisiveness, they caught everyone off-guard.

Intelligence is the obvious quality to downplay, but why stop there? Taste and sophistication rank close to intelligence on the vanity scale; make people feel they are more sophisticated than you are and their guard will come down. As Arnold and Slack knew, an air of complete naivete can work wonders. Those fancy financiers were laughing at them behind their backs, but who laughed loudest in the end? In general, then, always make people believe they are smarter and more sophisticated than you are. They will keep you around because you make them feel better about themselves, and the longer you are around, the more opportunities you will have to deceive them.

Image: The Opossum. In playing dead, the opossum plays stupid. Many a predator has therefore left it alone. Who could believe that such an ugly, unintelligent, nervous little creature could be capable of such deception?

Authority: Know how to make use of stupidity: The wisest man plays this card at times. There are occasions when the highest wisdom consists in appearing not to know—you must not be ignorant but capable of playing it. It is not much good being wise among fools and sane among lunatics. He who poses as a fool is not a fool. The best way to be well received by all is to clothe yourself in the skin of the dumbest of brutes. (Baltasar Gracián, 1601-1658)

REVERSAL

To reveal the true nature of your intelligence rarely pays; you should get in the habit of downplaying it at all times. If people inadvertently learn the truth—that you are actually much smarter than you look—they will admire you more for being discreet than for making your brilliance show. At the start of your climb to the top, of course, you cannot play too stupid: You may want to let your bosses know, in a subtle way, that you are smarter than the competition around you. As you climb the ladder, however, you should to some degree try to dampen your brilliance.

There is, however, one situation where it pays to do the opposite—when you can cover up a deception with a show of intelligence. In matters of smarts as in most things, appearances are what count. If you seem to have authority and knowledge, people will believe what you say. This can be very useful in getting you out of a scrape.

The art dealer Joseph Duveen was once attending a soiree at the New York home of a tycoon to whom he had recently sold a Dürer painting for a high price. Among the guests was a young French art critic who seemed extremely knowledgeable and confident. Wanting to impress this man, the tycoon’s daughter showed him the Dürer, which had not yet been hung. The critic studied it for a time, then finally said, “You know, I don’t think this Dürer is right.” He followed the young woman as she hurried to tell her father what he had said, and listened as the magnate, deeply unsettled, turned to Duveen for reassurance. Duveen just laughed. “How very amusing,” he said. “Do you realize, young man, that at least twenty other art experts here and in Europe have been taken in too, and have said that painting isn’t genuine? And now you’ve made the same mistake.” His confident tone and air of authority intimidated the Frenchman, who apologized for his mistake.

Duveen knew that the art market was flooded with fakes, and that many paintings had been falsely ascribed to old masters. He tried his best to distinguish the real from the fake, but in his zeal to sell he often overplayed a work’s authenticity. What mattered to him was that the buyer believed he had bought a Dürer, and that Duveen himself convinced everyone of his “expertness” through his air of irreproachable authority. Thus, it is important to be able to play the professor when necessary and never impose such an attitude for its own sake.

[airoasis]

The Unexplained Murder Of Mobster Bugsy Siegel

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/the-unexplained-murder-of-mobster-bugsy-siegel/

The Unexplained Murder Of Mobster Bugsy Siegel

This week on BuzzFeed and noticed we investigate the homicide of Bugsy Siegel the infamous mobster who helped launch the mega casinos that we companion with Las Vegas at present let’s be rolling oh you rolling the dice faucets table you recognize what which you can Scott talking of rolling the cube we are taking a risk here with the aid of doing a further mob episode getting gutsy yeah that is by and large grant doesn’t really topic how old you are pulling the trigger is just as convenient but you already know what i don’t must sleep in ok geez that convenient okay let’s do it all correct Benjamin Siegel used to be born on February 28 1906 in Brooklyn new york there together with childhood friends Meyer Lansky and Morris Moe stated approach Siegel began a crook profession extorting local street companies in alternate for security from different gangs in the field fellow gang member started calling him Bugsy a slang term for crazy on the time due to his violent temper allegedly Bugsy was not a nickname that Siegel cared for and people who knew him would never call him that to his face now that is anything I to find interesting about most mob nicknames practically all of them that is the guideline that applies you do not call them you do not name them their nickname to their face but when talking about them you utilize the nickname i suppose I could see if someone have been calling you babyface or tiny or tiny who else was i am seeking to suppose of different fashionable that’s embarrassing that those are the one two that come to mind you realize good appear i’m now not i am not embarrassed to not comprehend a lot about the mob put them in the back of bars ultimately Siegel sedway and Lansky transitioned to different crimes like vehicle theft bootlegging and gambling rising by way of the ranks of new York’s organized crime world it is greatly idea that Bugsy was once one of the 4 guys who in 1931 achieved Joe Masseria and an Italian restaurant in the big apple main fortunate Luciano to take the throne as the chairman of the board of the American Mafia in 1937 Lansky sent Bugsy and Moute to l. A. To build up the mobs presence on the west coast at the same time the mob had been closely worried in bootlegging throughout the 20s by the time seagull landed in California the 21st amendment had put a stop to money to be made on importing unlawful hooch it feels like the West Coast is continuously painted as like this identical to do excellent coasts like we had been always always like we acquired to take the crime syndicate over to the west coast some over there he never began it over here an excessive amount of crime right here let’s put some over there and says we might under no circumstances begin whatever on her possess over right here yeah we’re too distracted by way of the sunshine Bugsy made up our minds to center of attention on playing he invested in the SS Rex a playing ship that used to be docked three miles external of Santa Monica to check out and hinder California anti-gambling laws at the same time authorities finally shut it down Bugsy set his points of interest on Las Vegas Nevada had legalized gambling so there would not be as many complications trying to hinder police in 1945 with cash from the syndicate again east Siegel took over a struggling development undertaking outside of Las Vegas metropolis limits the Flamingo lodge and on line casino at the time Vegas used to be nothing like we think of in these days the Flamingo will be the first luxurious inn on the strip Siegel hosted the grand opening of the inn on December 26 1946 while the assignment used to be nonetheless unfinished nevertheless mega superstars like Judy Garland and Clark Gable have been at the opening for shadowing Vegas his glamorous future after this social gathering Siegel closed the hotel to conclude construction and the mob again east grew to be antsy I i’ll say building a significant giant luxurious luxury inn in the middle of the desert yeah you already know what it looks as if a bit of a chance it’s just right it is relatively first-class it can be just right stuff bit of of venture by this time the challenge’s rate had ballooned from siegels at the start budgeted 1 million to up to 6 million greenbacks much of the overruns believed to be as a result of Siegel’s skimming from the top if there may be one factor to recall concerning the mob it is that you don’t steal from it for the duration of a assembly of mob bigwigs in Cuba an agreement was once reached on the ft of Bugsy if the Flamingo proved to be successful he’d be able to make matters proper luckily for Bugsy with the aid of may just of 1947 the Flamingo had already made 250,000 greenbacks in profit alas for Bugsy that it sounds as if wasn’t adequate $250,000 a profit that is like a decent corporation right there i would say not just right sufficient for me now not enough so that you can be stealing yeah i would not be completely satisfied with him yeah on June twentieth 1947 Siegel was once sitting on a chin sofa in the residing room of his mistress Virginia Hills residence in Beverly Hills at 10:45 p.M.From a rose protected pergola simply 14 toes from Bugsy a 30 caliber navy rifle fired at the least 9 photographs on the mobster 4 rounds hit him killing him instantly simply moments later three of Meyer Lansky’s henchmen strolled into the Flamingo lodge and declared the on line casino was once now theirs despite his popularity coroner’s misspelled Siegel’s title on his toe tag and his funeral lasted a mere five minutes with handiest about six folks in attendance i don’t see i do not believe that is a testomony to how widespread he used to be as so much as it was a testament to probably the mobs power get him in the floor well it is like don’t show up good i’ll go to a funeral yeah you know the mob whacked this character yeah maybe don’t show up in help of him yeah you do not want so as to add yourself to an ever-developing record if I get murdered no person come to my funeral do not suppose you are gonna ought to put that disclaimer out it can be gonna occur on its possess now that I’ve put the disclaimer around yeah yeah sure the motive why there it’s they need anybody at my funeral you here but according to Beverly Hills Police Chief Clinton H Anderson quote we spent many man-hours investigating the Siegel case and have been satisfied that he was killed by means of his possess acquaintances however there was once in no way adequate proof to pinpoint the identity of the assassin finish quote with that it’s time to looking at theories at the back of who murdered Bugsy Siegel concept one the mob see you next week our first conception is Eddie Cannizzaro aka the Cat Man Cannizzaro was once a former errand boy for Jack dragna who was as soon as described in a document via the State Crime fee because the Al Capone of California end quote Cannizzaro died in 1987 of heart failure however earlier than he passed on he called a reporter and federal dealers to his dying bed the place he confessed to seven murders including seagulls in keeping with Ken Azura’s confession quote it was a smooth hit I used to be picked given that I knew seagull and would not make a mistake end quote I don’t know if a murder being individual always makes you less likely to make a mistake however i suppose if he is on his deathbed let him have the sentiment uh you may also in the sense that you know them higher you realize might be how they react you already know probably the place they but wouldn’t that additionally like carry into emotion what if you happen to like bear in mind like you’re about to do the hit i’ve the scope proper at your gigantic head and i’m considering we did have some excellent instances on the street maybe I should not do that yeah you already know that form of factor but then you’re but then I obtained a job some wins over rationalist ones over and also you pull that trigger Mike Gallagher your head yeah so casting doubt on Ken Azhar was confession are just a few inconsistencies in his story Cannizzaro claimed he was questioned in connection with the homicide at the time but there isn’t a document of an interview with him in the bugsy case file as well Cannizzaro claimed that after the murder he drove off in the path of Wilshire Boulevard a neighbor query after Bugsy used to be killed nonetheless told police that after the gunshots a car was once heard hurtling within the reverse path in the direction of sunset Boulevard on the time of his demise Cannizzaro used to be dwelling along with his mother and over 30 cats within the Agoura Hills local of Western LA County he was once hoping to create a beginning manipulate serum for cats and had requested a few of his old buddies in Las Vegas for funding very funny that this man has 30 cats and is attempting desperately to discontinue them breeding yeah perhaps like I wish to suppose he had two cats and then a yr later had 30 cats is like I bought a I obtained to shut this down yeah I simply i don’t consider like that is some thing you disclosed to your mob neighbors like you’re tossing again beers i am like you know I received 30 cats working on it everybody’s usually like telling them crazy reports like good you know I received 30 cats and used to be like k I mean i’m trying to introduced the can seeking to discontinue him i’m seeking to stop them bounine controlling my mind I received a serum you need to take a look at it i’m engaged on it also I hate that he calls it a serum it makes me feel like he is doing a little like extra bizarre science lesson slightly juice that I injected that testicles Eddie get out of the storage it can be not working to your rattling Cyril shut up mother the 2d concept is a world struggle two vet Robert McDonald this concept comes from Warren hall an govt assistant in Nevada who said MacDonald’s function in Siegel’s murder had been a loved ones secret for a long time on his deathbed hall’s father entreated his son to study the story and get it out there hole obliged the death man’s request occurring to create a four hundred slide PowerPoint presentation laying out the points of his case yells ah who’s he displaying that to yeah yeah who is he showing that i suppose investigators perhaps you just inviting friends over for margaritas yeah I got a while oh certain it’s loopy Oh believe about 4 and a half of hours due to the fact your trip to Niagara Falls hope you went to the lavatory when you consider that there isn’t any breaks McDonald was once married to holes mom’s cousin and excellent buddy Betty Anne McDonald Betty Ann’s mom Gaynor Rockwell labored at metropolis corridor in l. A. There she met Jack dragna the Al Capone of California from our earlier idea gaynelle told dragna her daughter was once having troubles along with her husband McDonald who would be violent now and then McDonald additionally happened to oh the mob $30,000 dragna went to McDonald explaining his debts can be forgiven if he offed Siegel consistent with entire MacDonald’s time in the navy made out of an proficient marksman together with with the 30 caliber carbine the alleged murder weapon again nonetheless the neighbors record of a speeding automobile forged doubt on this conception whole thinks that McDonald who lived just on the opposite part of a golf course from Virginia Hill would have escaped walking sneaking back to his residence not up to a mile away at the hours of darkness he simply lived on the other part of the hill he’d sneak you recognize by way of the dark covert like conflict mm-hmm so unless he desired to throw them off sure why would I drive when I would simply walk you particularly consider he went that deep into it he’ll double bluff just three months after Bugsy’s murder McDonald would go on to shoot himself and his wife Betty Ann hall says there’s no evidence that Beverly Hills police ever investigated McDonald as a suspect in Siegel’s homicide besides the fact that children that McDonald allegedly used the equal form of weapon to kill himself and his spouse as he did on Siegel less than a mile away and most effective three months after Bugsy’s homicide all believes it is even feasible that Howard Hughes can have pressured police to not investigate McDonald as he had labored closely with the person’s father how he got here in and a majority of these mob ones I consider adore it’s like might be he did it behind the barn and buried him and then you already know doc tossed his physique within the river whereas this one sincerely has things that linked him to the crime I feel like complex factor is the mob is just right at protecting their tracks that’s actual that’s what they’re built on yeah a 3rd idea comes from be mentioned way the wife of Mo said manner Bugsy’s childhood friend developing within the mob in step with be mo had been sending on line casino numbers back to Meyer Lansky on the East Coast together with gambling winnings and crucially building bills Bugsy conducted a assembly in March of 1947 without Mo there he reportedly said he used to be looking to get rid of Moe saying quote i’m going to have Moe shot chop his physique up and feed it to the Flamingo inns kitchen rubbish disposal finish quote I inspiration you were gonna say he was once gonna feed him to the flamingos and that may have been cool as hell one of the most attendees advised Moe who called his wife and asked her to force from LA to Vegas the 2 then drove out into the desert after which walked even further to make certain a private automobile precision going for walks into the desolate tract to have a personal conversation good cuz that’s the only method that you could ensure good day I get it also now not gonna lie in the event you do have a demise risk for your head probably now not nice to walk out where nobody could in finding you or see you good point let’s prepackaged ourselves for this homicide make it real first-class and handy there is me real fine they can’t hear us at all let’s have a private dialog you realize what we have to do dig a gap for ourselves they’ll certainly not to find us down right here six toes down I consider that’ll be beautiful it would be excellent it’ll be first-class when Moe told his wife of the hazard against him be right away referred to as Matthew moose Panza a crane operator and bees lover Moen be who married when he was once forty one and she or he just seventeen had an awfully unconventional marriage for the time they have been very honest with one another and knew about one an extra’s extramarital companions in fact Moe had insisted that upon his dying moose used to be to marry B after their assembly moose arrived in Las Vegas to defend Moe after the mob boss meeting in Cuba were cost overruns on the Flamingo were discussed nevertheless Lansky gave Moe his blessing to take concerns into his own hands moose volunteered to do the job and spent weeks practicing his marksmanship I obtained a question about my boy strikes yeah see somewhat man Oh cuz you believe quite often in the mob it can be form of like yeah yeah yeah like a significant colossal tall lanky man like me could be a brief stack or something they’re fan of boxy they’re a fan of boxing yeah i like i love a i love you be like oh wait until moose gets here big knock on the door they opened the door and although it used to be from it was once in obstacle let me have it the moose ‘cell pressure down in step with B after pulling the trigger moose hurried to the auto and drove straight to Santa Monica where he broke down the rifle leaving the butt of the gun on a rooftop and throwing the barrel into the ocean as his wellness was failing B’s son Robbie reached out to her reporter to tell his mom’s story when that reporter reached out to the Beverly Hills Police department to investigate whether moose had been viewed a suspect they responded quote it’s within the excellent interest of the town of Beverly Hills not to speak to you and quote i really like the truth that that posh workplace could be in all probability beat soiled yeah that is just I think that’s simply how the whole thing in California back then was once just filthy quite though oh yeah i assume Beverly Hills I continuously saw as a situation of like i do know plenty of LA was corrupt all of it Oh each all of it so you go by the principle that the more glamorous the extra soiled maybe but another theory suggests the Chicago mob took down Bugsy with the help of Siegel’s mistress Virginia Hill Hill had been viewed a relied on mob courier and in keeping with author Andy Edmonds the Chicago mob used Hill as a supply of understanding on Bugsy’s dealings at the same time Siegel was building the Flamingo the Chicago mob was financing a competing resort the dunes on the present website online of the Bellagio Siegel’s homicide also took position at Hills residence he would had been competent to inform an assassin about Siegel’s addiction of studying the paper in her residing room at night and Hill had conveniently skipped city for Paris that day he’ll finally move to Europe to prevent expenses of tax evasion the place she died at the age of forty nine her death was once deemed an overdose however some have their suspicions that the mob was concerned Chicago mob heard of what they do i know you’re gonna come to this shocker as someone who was once born underneath the beam let me tell you a cog oh we all know what we’re doing I comprehend it’s exciting a lot of mob movies you look at Goodfellas stuff like that definite all takes place east coast but you rather need something done go to those boys in Chicago man you recognize I received a say in a shocking flip of hobbies Shane talked about Chicago once more in an episode frankly what an upset oh and the pizza as one expects with mob killings there are a lot of alternative theories in the market most of the time unsubstantiated to this day no one has ever been prosecuted within the death of Benjamin Bugsy Siegel and while what occurs in Vegas stays in Vegas what occurred to the person who helped start latest Vegas remains unsolved i know I’ve busted this out earlier than however this is very so much a case of oh boy just gonna ought to let it be mr.There it’s it took us three episodes to get to that and now we have arrived some things will just certainly not uncover and also you just obtained a yeah that is the best way of the world if there is one the place the evidence seems essentially the most robust i would say that it can be the one that entails mo mousse and Lansky and simply love mousse do love me some giant moose and a moose fan but both that or the hill one additionally makes sense too yeah but if I needed to go together with one i’d go along with them free all in on what do you put it in all the new you slide them all in so I might go is that okay to finish on a fine Vegas reference yeah there you go see you next week .

[abassi-okoro]

THE ANGRY WHITE WOMEN

by Abassi Okoro Eziokwu

Hate is too strong of an emotion to waste on people who don't deserve it. I hate Meghan McCain. Rather I hate what she represents, angry white femininity. It was an angry white woman who caused the savage annihilation of Emmet Till. It is the knee-jerk reactions of angry white women who call the police on black people for doing nothing more than blinking one too many times. White women are just always angry with something or someone. Have you noticed that? Despite the racial stigma that black women are often awarded, the “ANGRY BLACK FEMALE,” at least black anger is justifiably directed at a specific or definitive idea – RACISM!

Black anger carries a certain rationale, a certain sanity. It's understandable to sympathize with the anger of a people who are systematically and institutionally oppressed, abused, and persecuted – and that's only talking about black MEN! Now add to that persecution the reality of being a black WOMAN and your abuse has just gotten worse. But in 2019, you would think that it is "White Women" who are the benefactors of white male infliction or structured social abuse and oppression. It seems that every time we tune into FOX, CNN, or some feminist round table television talk show - there is no shortage of snarling, beady-eyed, 'trembling in anger' blonde-haired, white women all too eager to tell the whole of America how they're outraged over something or someone or how “women” (which is really code for WHITE women) are discriminated against more than black folk in this country.

These white women remind me of yappy little – big eyed Chihuahuas barking uncontrollably at the slightest insignificant sound or purely imagined discomfort. When white folks profess their anger over something, they call it "Outrage." Black folks call it, "White Tears." They're always stepping out of line, ridiculing and pointing fingers and especially when it comes to American Patriotism. Nothing gets these white women barking louder than the notion that American "Ideals" are being threatened by black people's audacity to call to attention racism or the fear that immigration of Hispanic people is going to colorize and lord forbid, "colonize" lily white neighborhoods like Boise Idaho or Cedar Rapids Iowa (because I'm sure that one of the whitest towns in America is worried to death over some Mexicans coming in and stealing their warehouse associate jobs at the Adam's Lumber Yard). Or the worse case scenario, Colin Kaepernick takes a knee. Tomi Lahren every week on her show damn near had a complete mental and emotional meltdown anytime Colin Kaepernick's name was mentioned. Despite my thoughts of her anger being nothing more than a cover-up for wanting to sleep with him, she didn't fail once at getting her "outrage" out to the American public. Meanwhile, white male executives who control the FOX network had no problem offering her the platform to exploit her little annoying blonde ass.

Megyn Kelly spends a great majority of her airtime interpreting innocent remarks or acts as "sexist." That's why she always has a frog up her ass, she thinks everything is sexual. Meghan McCain's shtick is that everyone and anyone who falls short of worshipping white Jewish people is, "Anti-Semitic." Then there's the rest of American white women in general who have a long history of voting against their own best interests. White women historically have always been proponents of white supremacy and the Feminist movement is an off-shoot of that white supremacy. Black women told you that years ago that white women were going into the black neighborhoods trying to recruit black women for white feminine agendas while suggesting to these black women that they would have to leave their families, give up their black men before they could be part of the “Women's Liberation Movement.”

And so many black women did exactly that. They stopped being mothers, wives, caretakers, they got jobs in corporate America, became “secretaries” in white owned companies, put on a business suit, told their kids, “I ain't cooking shit - I ain't got to take care of you,” traded in their natural hair for a perm, learned how to talk “white” on the phone and if the police came knocking at the door, they had no problem turning in their black boyfriend or black husband and especially if he was not treating her right. The white feminist snatched up many of these black women and said, “We're sisters now” and eventually sisters became partners and partners over time became "lovers." Meanwhile, white men were locking up black men over petty shit like 10 to 20 years for $10 of weed. That's called, “Engineered Racism” folks.

BUT WHY ARE WHITE WOMEN SO ANGRY?

I'm not suggesting that only certain people are allowed to be angry (the oppressed) but it sure does make more sense for oppressed to be angry and non-oppressed to NOT be so angry. Unless of course you're implying that white women are an oppressed marginalized group? I was told that white women are angry over gender inequality and especially in the political arena. Makes sense - if I was ignorant that is. When asked a little under two years ago how Donald Trump got elected, the answer that was told to us was because the people who voted for him were white and angry. They were suffering from financial anxiety and Trump's rhetoric of bringing jobs back to America sounded pretty darn good to Becky and Bob. Now here we are in 2019 and those Trump voters who were white and angry are STILL white and they’re STILL angry but only now they're angry because they STILL haven't landed those good ole' American jobs that they were promised back in 2016 and on top of that, Trump is more concerned with building a wall to keep Mexicans out than opening up a factory in your already dilapidated - one sheriff- rural town. I'm sure it feels awful to white people who just aren't accustomed to being bent over and screwed in the ass. But if you need a shoulder to cry on white people, give people of color a call. We're experienced at being lied to by white assholes. The grief counseling hotline after being lied to by white men is 1-800-YOU-DUMB. Negroes, Mexicans and Native Americans are waiting by the line to accept your calls.

FEMINIST RAGE 101

White women in particular are encouraging each other to let out their anger in the face of the current administration. Yet, white women have failed miserably in dismantling racism. It appears that white women's rage only became a thing when white men became indifferent to white female sexuality. In other words, white men simply are not that into you (just like the movie suggested). When white men were abusing women of color, sexually exploiting black women, committing sexual violence against black women with impunity, and we didn't hear a single outcry from white women. Instead, white women actually downplayed and silenced the anger of women of color - hoping that it would gain favor in the eyes of white men. You held out for nothing, he didn't care that you had his back. White men don't need your help with being a racist or a rapist. But in recent years, white women switched and played the role of “Social Activist” and despite all the protests and public outcries and unpaid emotional labor by women of color, what did these "socially aware" white women do? White women turned around and sold black women out. They threw black women under the bus and went out to the polls and voted for the party of toxic white supremacy. It's safe to say that white women are more likely to betray their gender for their race, a proverbial gut-punch to black women who have been victims of white masculinity for generations. White women should be more ashamed than angry.

Bu let me tell you how angry white women really are. White women are so angry that 53% of them put their white privilege above their 2nd class gender status to vote for Donald Trump. Despite their "anger," white women believe they benefit from white male patriarchy by trading on their whiteness to monopolize resources for mutual gain. In return, they’re placed on a pedestal to be “cherished and revered,” by white men who in reality will not only be quick to deny them their basic human rights but will, "Grab them by the pussy" while denying them. Look, let's cut through the bullshit and just go ahead and be brutally honest: White women, your white man will NEVER love you the way he should (to full capacity.) Maybe because he spends most of his time fantasizing over black, Latin and Asian women. He'll never tell you that, but I will! Hurts doesn't it? Maybe that's why you're angry because despite supporting the system of White Supremacy, you know deep down inside your soul that the whole premise of white supremacy is predicated on white male sexual inadequacy (white genetic survival, penis envy and trying to get back into the womb of the black woman in order to recreate himself without the genetic deficiencies). Isn't that why many of your fellow white women leave their white men to be with black men to begin with? Because even white women know who the real KINGS are (Royal blood). Now pick your jaw up off the floor.

Isn't this the real reason for white female fragility? The answer is yes! There exist a lot of truths about ourselves that most of us aren't willing to explore. For white people, some of those truths paint them in a very pathetic light. I'm sorry, but as a white woman in America - you're simply not a victim of anything structural. You may be a victim to some personal and isolated incident but there is no systemic or institutionalized "ism" in place to destroy you and NO, Sexism isn't your collective oppression. You can't claim that because sexism isn't exclusive to just the female gender and white men have always treated you like shit and so don't start acting like now all of a sudden you have a problem with being his bitch and especially after 53% of you voted in a "Pussy Grabber" as your President. GROW UP white women. Pull yourself together ladies. It's not a good look to be angry for no goddamn reason.

[hikarain]

Nothing Away

Series: Overwatch

Pairing: Boombox (Junkrat x  Lúcio)

Chapters: 10/10

Words: 10.835

Subject: sligthly alternated universe in which a fanboy Junkrat fucks everything up.

Check it also on AO3

@scarecroweyes wanted me to publish this so here it is :)  It’s a ten-chapters-long fic that will probably either make you squeal or cringe or both so be prepared. Last warning, I like streams of thoughs.

Chapter 1  

On that day I was strolling downtown, enjoying the view of happy children playing football in the empty dusty street. Seeing such innocent fun delighted me: they were so free and beautiful. A white truck was trying to make its way on that road, so I stepped in and made the children move. As I did that, the driver lowered the window and thanked me, a really heavy accent marking his words. He then drove by, showing me a logo I could never forget: Vishkar Corporation. It was a powerful multinational; why would such corporation wander the suburbs like that? At the time I didn’t have any clues. I didn’t like Vishkar, their methods to improve the quality of life in big cities weren’t my cup of tea, everything they did was so … perfect… it looked like a miracle. And I am not the type to believe in miracles easily. Music can at times bring joy to a sorrowful heart, but it can’t last forever. It was almost fishy how each place they visited turned into a paradise overnight. Were they in Rio for that same goal then? Suspicious how they had just one truck, how could they build buildings with just that? Something clung to the hem of my pants, a gentle pull.    "Lúcio, wanna play with us?“ I patted the child’s head and nodded. His eyes lit up as he beamed proudly his young smile.    "Sure, champion!”

The sunset began to steal the light, so I led the children to their houses; the street was not a good place for children at night, so I always made sure they were home safe. Carrying his dirty ball in his hands, one of them was bragging about some tricks he pulled off in game, others were playfully telling him to shut up; I only laughed at the scene: it was such a peaceful view. There really was no place like that in the entire world. I was sure of that. No matter how shiny the big city behind those little shaggy houses looked, the warm lights turned that dirty view into a home to return to at dusk, our home.

Each of the families I visited that night asked me to stay for dinner, how nice of them to think of me, but I too had a place to be. I had a concert planned for later that evening: it was a small party, the owner of the local asked me, as a regular, to perform for the guests and hopefully attract more costumers from outside. I gladly agreed to help, but I had no expectation of drawing any crowd; I only played music to lift the burdens of my people, I thought I had not that much skill to pull a career out of it. I made my way in the club.    "Chief, I’m here!“    "Oh, thank you very much, Lúcio. Make yourself at home!” I put my portable console on the counter and stretched my arms, a bit soar from carrying it around all day. I quickly installed it and set the speakers around the dance floor, checked the lights and the quality of the audio; it wasn’t the best, but for a raw space like that it was already something. The party started and just as the owner thought, many people came to the bar, filling each corner just to listen to my music. Both from the favela and the town, some of them were complete strangers to me. However it was my people that made the night great, they sang, they danced and called my name: all of my work paid off at least. Their happiness was all I wanted, their cheerful voices were all I cared about. Too bad the children were home, but I can always play for them at daytime. As the clock hit three in the morning, the club owner signalled me to stop the music, marking the end of my concert. I thanked everyone for their presence that night and waited for those who wanted an autograph or a picture. I smiled in all of those, strangers or not, my music made their life better even if just a tiny bit and I was proud of that. One of the last to come up to me was quite the particular fellow, his expression stuck between embarrassment and happiness as I shook his hand and posed for the picture his friend took. I was sure he was from outside the favela, but his appearance was not suitable for the town… I couldn’t imagine such a person around the streets of any city, let alone a big one like Rio. I realized he had to be a tourist when he started speaking in English to me; or what I thought was English, he had such a weird accent it was difficult to understand all of his words. His clothes were baggy and badly kept, stains of dirt on the knees and elbows. They both left after another powerful handshake, he laughed his way out while staring at the screen he took the picture with.

Chapter 2

Rio stipulated a contract with Vishkar that day. They made it public around noon and a few hours later agents and architects were all over the place, scanning each alley and corner of my suburb. I did not like that idea, strangers wandering around, claiming to be protectors and saviours… however, my people had faith in them, so I gave them a chance: everyone deserved it. The next day I received a call from one of Vishkar’s employees. With her mechanical voice she asked me if I needed a job and told me to go to their closest branch office. I had been in need of an actual job for a long time, all I did in the last couple of years was working as a freelancer dj or as handyman for the families of my favela. I didn’t swim in gold, but I wasn’t exactly poor either, not compared to my people. The Omnic Crisis hit Brazil’s economy so hard, the situation only began to worsen for us; as the city grew bigger, finally surpassing the Crisis, the favelas around it only grew poorer and poorer… but my people chose to believe in the opportunities Vishkar offered and I wanted to trust their decision. I entered the branch office, a tall dark-skinned woman greeted me with an elegant bow.    "Welcome to Vishkar Corporation, I suppose you are here for the jobs we are currently offering the people of this city.“    "Thank you for your offer, I am desperate for a job right now.” I laughed it off, the woman only chuckled. “What kind of job is this?”    "You see, we are working on developing Rio de Janeiro for the better, new instalments, buildings, roads and public transports. We have plans for a brighter future, but we need help with handwork.“    "Handwork? And here I thought you architects could build everything with a snap of your fingers…”    "Not all architects are like that. Are you willing to work with us?“ My first job was driving one of their trucks to the other side of the town to collect the materials they needed. It was a relaxing trip, I also managed to put on some good tunes instead of those old noises the radio used to pump. I could have worked with that job just fine, but as soon as I delivered the materials they told me I had to help with the building next. Too bad. That time it was draining, I struggled so much with all those heavy pillars and concrete blocks, my sweat was sticking to my skin along with the dust. The people that were working in-group with me were on the brick of collapsing too. All of this while two of the architects watched from afar, all elegant in their white attires… At the end of that exhausting day at least I got to retrieve my payment… it was so little it didn’t even cover dinner.    "Excuse me, with all the work we’ve done, is this really it?” They closed the door to my face after telling me to return the day after for other jobs. My co-workers and I looked at each other, our grips firm on the envelope with our salary.    "It is just the first day, tomorrow we’ll get more!“ A cheerful man smiled and put the envelope in his large pockets.    "He’s right, Lúcio!” A man around my age patted my back. “Also, it is the first job we get in a long while, we should appreciate that.”    "Guess it must be like you say then.“ I barely muttered… I wanted to trust those smiles: it was just the first day, a test to see if we could really help them. After all, they wanted to make Rio great again, the favelas too. Maybe they were really going to make miracles happen. The sunset turned the sky orange fast that day, the children still playing in the streets began to pick up their toys. I walked up to them and they ran to me, giggling and waving without a single worry in the world. I had been starting to think: the streets weren’t a safe place in the dark hours ever since the crisis, but now it was over, right? I grew up stuck in my house, I was really upset when I couldn’t get to finish a match against my friends… those trivial things could matter again finally. With the help of Vishkar our home could finally become the safe place we wanted. I smiled at the children, picking the youngest girl up and tickling her.    "I don’t want to look too much ahead, but I believe that in little time you guys will be able to play all you want.”    "Really?“ They jumped happily when I nodded grinning. The streets were going to be well-lit by Vishkar technology, some agents were going to patrol at night, just to make sure nothing happened and maybe we could finally be paired with Rio, not just as its slums. While I was strolling around I spotted some Vishkar agents. They were armed…    "You over there!” I halted immediately and pointed at myself confused.    "Yes you! What are you doing outside? Go back home right now!“ I apologised by instinct and headed straight home with swift steps. I noticed they kept on following me until I finally locked myself in my house.    "This is no good…”

Weeks went by and… none of our expectations were met. All Vishkar Corporation cared about was the quick development of Rio, all they did was exploit what they could to achieve it. None of that was according to the promises they made, living in the favela was hard as ever before. Curfews had always been a thing, but only for young children, now no one could walk the streets at night. I thought it was going to be the other way around, but it is not. Their controls are so strict on us, we can’t live a single day without being beaten up for no reason, some of our behaviours were called lawless, our morals unfitting of a civilized world. Our salary didn’t grow any higher, we were fighting to stay alive more than ever. We had no money to eat, we had no permission to leave the favela, we could not get another job… we were just like prisoners… I couldn’t even play my music anymore because it didn’t suit the project they had for the town. How dared they say that when music was the only thing that, even for just those few minutes, had already saved my people from despair so many times?

I was sick of that.

We grouped up one afternoon at my pals’ house, we organized a way to show Vishkar who they were trying to submit. We were forced to work on their technologies, those the architects used to create shapes and buildings, instalments and so on. We had no idea how that light technology worked, we never got an answer when we asked, but we knew where it was stored. After all, we were the ones securing them. For a few days we planned our actions step by step, I spoke up for most of the people in the meeting and volunteered to take the lead of the main action. We were ready to take over.

Chapter 3

I admit we infiltrated Vishkar, we did revolt and we did damaged their facility, but I’ll never accept the crime of stealing. Their technology was the result of the hard work of my people, it was ours by right. When we got back to our base, everyone called my name as if I was some kind of hero to their eyes. I was no hero, I barely shouted orders, but I wanted to keep fighting for them. We improvised a concert that night, Vishkar could not stop us anymore; they were already driven out of our favela. Music was such a gift to our souls, our minds were at peace again, my fingers felt light as I scratched the console. I turned up the volume, everyone danced, children and adults alike: it was not a miracle, it was pure freedom, finally.

What happened after was a disastrous turn of events. The night tasted like burning wood and metal, a terribly hot night with screaming echoing in its silence. A fire, all over the place. And everything was a mess. I did all I could to help my family, their screaming killed me, but I too was shouting, shouting for them to hear me over the noisy bursting of flames. Everything turned against us in such a short amount of time.

No victims at least, but so many were harmed and burnt so badly their faces were unrecognisable. In the past I had carried many children in my arms to help them, but never were they so weak, so powerless. Their homes were turning to ashes with little hope to be saved from the ferocious flames. I was dying inside, while on the outside I had to stay calm and think about what to do next, quick and precise. My people… my family needed me more than ever. We managed to evacuate everyone thanks to the help of the young adults, but we ended up out of our favela, out of the city. There was no place for us to return. I couldn’t do anything more than that… I was weak. I let myself fall to the ground, hateful tears staining my face. That caught attention. I didn’t want them to see me like that; it was all my fault, it was my fault they lost everything they had. Had I been stronger they would have been unharmed, had I been smarter they would have been evacuated more efficiently, had I been braver they wouldn’t have had to suffer. Young men and women walked up to me, patted my back and forced me back on my feet. My tears already dried out, but my red eyes gave my feelings away.    "Forgive me, it’s my fault…" One of the oldest of the group sighed loudly, watching closely each of my drained expressions. Another man came up shortly after.    "It is not, youngling. Our bodies are doing fine but… Do us all a favour, mind playing some tunes for our sad souls?“    "We could always use some good music.” They lifted me up and punched my chest in a friendly way. I clenched my fist on my chest, where his had had hit. They were right. I quickly set up the console and gears, pumping up all the music I could think of. No matter what happened before, no matter what will happen in the future, there was always something we could all believe in. There was always that special gift to everyone: music. I thanked all of them that night; I played for them until it was daytime, we partied like we were free and happy like we used to, the flames in the background slowly fading in black dust. We had no home, but we had each other.

Few weeks after that terrible nightmare, just like in a badly scripted movie, we were all back to our daily life, back in our houses with little to no motivation. They were not our old homes, but new ones the architects of Vishkar created for us. We were so lucky to have them… not. It was them. They were behind it all. Their impossible utopia was all they cared about, not about our lives, our homes… just about that monstrous imaginary world they built for themselves in their rotten brains. Burn down a favela just to rebuild it to your likings? Why didn’t they just tell us to evacuate then? Why did they put so many lives on the line? They were barbarians, crazy psychopaths. Not only were they back in our favela, but their controls were as strict as ever. It was hard. However, even in the worst situation, I did have some luck; my name spread across the country along with my tapes after the night we infiltrated Vishkar. People contacted me to play in their locals, concerts, they wanted more of my inspiring music… inspiring, just as it should be. Did I have the right to neglect my people for my career? I thought I didn’t, but everyone pushed me to go for it. They promised they would not give up, that they would support me and remember their freedom. So I started my journey, a lonely long journey, taking with me what I didn’t want Vishkar to have back.

Chapter 4

   "Man, ain’t this Lúcio the best thing in the world!“ The big guy sighed through his gas mask.    "Y'right, who ‘m I kidding, explosions come first.” At the time I was working on a new type of concussion mine, all while listening to some appealing elevator noises. ‘Hog told me the music was too loud, but I was deaf and I wanted to listen to it, so I didn’t care. “I remember when I first saw him, that frog boy.” ‘Hog tossed me a screwdriver I really didn’t need, but I kept it next to me just to be sure.    "Really? Am I really that predictable?“ I looked at him a bit shocked, usually he would enjoy my conversation topics, not tell me to change so quickly. "Though y’ liked him too, mate.”    "What d’you mean not in the same way I do? What other ways are there to like someone? No, now y’explain! Don’t go in the garage, y’know I don’t have my peg on right now! Come back ya cunt!“ I tried to crawl my way and follow him, but the wires of the mines were too much of an obstacle to overcome. I just laid on my stomach, growling annoyed by the rude interruption. I got up and threw away the mine, which exploded in the back of the garden, but it didn’t matter, it was already a dump as it was. I reached for my peg leg, I wasn’t wearing it because I had been fixing it earlier, I got up and headed inside the garage, our temporary base. ‘Hog was turning down the volume of the music, That made me mad.    "I told ya I don’t give a shit about your sissy hearing! I want to hear the basses!” Grumping and snorting, I hit him in his fat belly with my metal arm. I knew that must have hurt him! But he punched me to the ground with little to no efforts and told me to shut up.    "Roger that…" There I was again, lying on the floor face down. Why did I even bother to get up again? At least from this position I could still hear my favourite funky noises. Dunno why they were so addictive, they just turned me up. And that little Brazilian frog, he did turn me up as well… or on… not sure which one it was anymore.    "’Hog, me man, where is the picture again?“    "Gotcha, and where’s my phone?”    "In my pants that are…?“    "Of course I know I’m wearing ‘em, shuddup!” I took the phone out of my pocket and quickly headed to the gallery, just so I could see the picture one more time. I loved that picture, each little pixel of it. It was from that time when me and the big guy were in Rio just chilling and got to hear Lúcio’s music for the first time. He even shook my hand! Can’t believe a music star touched a hand of a mercenary like me. On a second point though, we weren’t really chilling, more like working. I won’t go too much in detail, but a certain corporation may or may not have asked us junkers to find a way to quickly burn to the ground a large stock of houses and buildings. Well, unfortunately, we didn’t get to see them burn up, since they only wanted us to provide the otherwise too-suspicious-for-such-a-corporation amount of explosive needed. They told me it was to get rid of the old buildings of the town to build new ones, a totally legit work for once, it felt weird. And I didn’t even get to see the explosion, what a waste of time and bombs. It’s been quite some years since that time though, man I even had all of my hair in that picture! Where did my hair go? I miss it… Hog came back and smacked me on the head with a newspaper. I was about to shout at him, but he shoved it in my face and left again. Did I have to look at that? How pushy of him, honestly… I did just that anyways and oh boy I had to read it again and again to believe it.    "He’s coming here! ‘Hog! ‘Hog! He’s coming here!“ I ran to the door, only to meet face-first my mate’s giant hand. "The frog boy!!” It was such a coincidence for us to be in the UK too! He was going to be there!! I was excited, maybe I could see him again… He looked at me, his eyes dead serious.    "Do you want to go?“ I nodded my head frenetically at his question, my eyes sparkling with expectations. I fidgeted at the idea of meeting Lúcio again. The big guy sighed loudly.

Chapter 5  

It wasn’t really planned, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. We stood near the backdoor entrance of the coolest, most expensive-looking club of the entire town, the one and only place were the frog was going to show off his new hits. We were hiding in the shadows, waiting for the prey to… there he was! Holy dooley was he more handsome in person and so short and he looked so nice and his smile and and and… Hog smacked me in the back of my head to bring me back to earth. He was right, we had a plan. Why was he alone anyways? Not even a bodyguard? What if a gang of dirty creeps tried to kidnap him?! What if we were those creeps?! … we were those creeps. I took a step forward, preventing him from reaching the doorknob.    "G'evening! Lúcio, am I right?” He stared at me unimpressed. He was so short… not even reaching my shoulder. That was adorable?!    "In the flesh, what can I do for you?“    "Y'know, me and me friend here were wondering if you’d let us kidnap ya.” His expression didn’t change one bit, his happy smile still on his dorky face. So adorable?!    "Usually you ask for autographs, not kidnapping.“ He laughed it off, probably thinking I was joking. "Are you two fans? Got no tickets for the show?”    "No tickets, mate, we were just prancing around, checking out… the scenery…"    "Well… this is just a badly-lit alley, but I guess it can have its charm.“    "Agree! The rubbish bins and the greens from that neon over there just add that atmosphere, right?” At that moment I could hear Hog just sighing a “what even is this conversation”, to which I answered with a glare. That was my first actual conversation with frog boy and he was not going to ruin it! I turned back to Lúcio and he was chuckling… I panicked.    "The show is packed, but I guess I could let you in at least if you want to listen to the concert. I can’t just leave out two fans like this.“ That would have been nice! But that was not the point!    "No, no, y’got the wrong idea, mate! We’re here to actually kidnap ya!”    "We are here for the concert.“ Hog spoke up, a hand on my head, pushing it down, forcing me to show an apologetic behaviour. Lúcio smiled again.    "You almost scared me there, I can’t miss a concert for charity, especially around this time of the year.” He was worried about charity after a threat like that? What even was wrong with this bloke’s moral code?! Gosh his smile was the most sunshine-like thing ever… I bit my lip, unable to stop the staring. What were we doing there again?    "Am I bothering ya? Sorry about that mate…" He chuckled again, something inside me began to tick, it felt just like the sound of a timer… it felt nice and warm and ready to explode.    "Not at all, thank you for the distraction, I was actually really tense before meeting you.“ Well, I was the one that was tense now. He… he… he… ‘Hog hit me again in the back of my head. I scanned the area, trying to focus my eyes on something different, which happened to be his hair: it looked so soft to the touch…    "Y’re welcome…” I reached for the back of my head, scratching it to distract myself, pretty sure the feeling didn’t match the view though, my hair was dry and ruined. “You should get going then, y'know, to your charity and stuff…” He took out his phone, or what I though was a phone, it was a brand new model, unlike my old one, and checked the time.    "I was early anyway. What are your names? I can give them to the staff and let you in.“ Think fast, think fast, think fast! Faster! You don’t have all day!    "J-Jamie!” I spit out. “And my friend here’s Mako.” Lúcio tapped something on the screen and nodded.    "Mako and Jamie, got it. I’ll forward your names right away.“ He nodded happily while messing with his phone. A few seconds after he received a reply. "Alright, you can enter.” He beamed a smile and a thumb up, but I was too hyped about him calling me by name.

  “Do you think he recognised me?” We walked in the club, following one of the bodyguards. I was still excited and trembling, a big smile crawling on my face. ‘Hog shook his head no, pointing at my face.    "C’mon! My face is not that easy to forg-… oh… y'right…" I had been wearing a disguise all day long. I suddenly felt sad, a empty feeling of empty emptiness in my chest. I was wearing a hat, a scarf, glasses and all that shit… he couldn’t possibly have recognised me… The big guy patted me on the back, pulling me with him inside the room where Lúcio was about to perform. There I was though, standing proudly right under that hyper frog. And that was the second time! And then there was my favourite song! And his eyes were so focused but so carefree and his hands worked so intently on that console! I couldn’t stop staring at him. Had I been lucky? Yes, I had. Was that luck going to take me any further? I doubted it. I decided to watch quietly, only bouncing and tapping my feet to the rhythm. Boy, were they the best elevator noises in the whole world… at a certain point he also sang! He sang! And he waved at me during a short break! Well… he waved in my general direction… but he waved at me! I was burning inside, but it wasn’t the usual explosive… it was gentler…    "’Hog, can we-“    "No.”    "Gotcha.“ Kidnapping was not in my mate’s plans apparently. But I wanted him so bad… screw that! If Hog wasn’t with me, I would have done it myself! … after the end of the concert, because that shit was amazing to watch.

Hours later we left the club, my mind, my ears and my eyes still in utter bliss for the performance. I probably also agreed to donating something to charity in that mental state, but fuck it I was too happy to care. I felt my cheeks hurting for the huge smile on my face but I didn’t give a care. Right when I though the day couldn’t turn any better, someone poked my shoulder, by the size of the hand it couldn’t be ‘Hog. I turned quickly and I froze.    "Did you enjoy the concert? I saw you made donations, I wanted to thank you.” The frog boy in the flesh, again, in front of me, alone… my heart!! I cracked a smile and nodded my head, trying to at least answer his question despite my panic. He beamed a grin, his eyes half-closed. I could not stand that anymore.    "Stop being so cute or I’ll kidnap you!“ He halted for a minute and then laughed my threat off, again. Why wouldn’t he believe me?! I was a wanted criminal, with a 25 million dollars bounty on my head! I was in a disguise but it didn’t matter, how was I not fishy to his eyes?! I stared at him confused, ‘Hog just ready to snap me out of it, but Lúcio spoke up.    "There you go again with the kidnapping, you know, there are other ways to ask a guy out…” Ask out? …ask… him… out? Did he thought…?    "You got it wrong, mate! I… I just…" Why wouldn’t Hog help me?! I was a mess in that moment and he was just standing there, laughing behind that mask of his without the slightest care! I was embarrassing myself in front of the frog and he was not helping! Oh, I was going to punch that smirk out of his face, oh, yes I was! But first, I had a little stuttering to deal with.    "I-I j-just really like y-yo-your m-music…" Lúcio smiled again, taking a step closer to hear my voice, which was slowly getting lower and lower. “Y-y’re great…”    "Thanks!“ He was a sunshine… a total pure ray of sunshine, beaming in my face and torturing me with its heath. My face was burning, probably my expression was both tense and awkward, my lips stuck on a forced smile and my eyes wide open behind the fake lenses of the glasses of my disguise. I scratched the back of my head clumsily, almost getting my prosthesis stuck in the wool of my hat.    "Seriously though,” I regained my cool, just that little bit to speak without stuttering, my cheeks were still flaming hot. “can I kidnap ya?” I turned to face ‘Hog, who just facepalmed with no respect. How dare he?! I was being serious there!    "I don’t have that much time, unfortunately.“ His voice sounded really apologetic, his eyes never losing mine. "The tour and stuff, I’m just packed, man…”    "Oh… I see, that’s unfortunate, mate…"    "I can give you my number though, let’s meet up some other time.“ He handed me a slip of plasticised paper, there was a number, a signature and a doodled frog on it. An autograph… his number… still he couldn’t be kidnapped… too bad… wait.    "Hold on, why am I asking for permission?!” He blinked confused.    "Well, because that’s what you do when you ask someone out?“    "I’m not asking anyone out! Ya got it all w-” In that moment ‘Hog stopped being a silent wallpaper and he smacked me.    "We are going home.“    "What?!”    "Now.“ He grabbed me by my scarf and pulled with all of his might, I was choking, but the view I had made it impossible for me to die; Lúcio was smiling cheerfully, a hand holding his stomach, holding back the laughter. He was so… so… I was speechless.    "Call me, ‘kay, Jamie?” I thought I could not die watching him, but he was breathtakingly handsome. He winked when I nodded in response and then he left to go back in the club.    "'Hog… I got his number…"    "I’m glad.“ I stared at the slip of paper, my hand trailing to the phone in my pocket. I grabbed it and sent a text to that number saying it was me. I got an almost immediate response.

-          Got you saved :)

My body just melted, the big guy just carrying me over his shoulder. Was that day a miracle? How did that happen?! I witnessed a miracle. A damn miracle I tell you!    "I fucking love him.”

Chapter 6  

So apparently we were requested for some other legit job, that was weird. What was weirdest though was the fact that we had been hired by the same corporation of some years ago, the one that wanted to blow up the city… what was it called again? Vikar? Fishkar? Whatevikar? On the phone they told me the needed about the same amount of explosive as last time but the order was due in three days… who did they think we were, bombs dispensers?! They don’t grow on threes yet, but apparently they didn’t know. Both me and ‘Hog worked hard though, we wanted all those juicy bucks. So we pulled a couple all-nighters and finished the job on time. In the morning we were in charge of moving it from our basement to their warehouse. Luckily for us our crime-spree brought us to a city really close to their headquarters, so we could easily deliver the bombs. We put them all in the back of our car and we sped through the streets, trying to meet the deadline; I might be a criminal, but I sure ain’t late. We reached the warehouse in little time, dropped the bombs, got our bucks and left, smooth as silk. Now we had a couple thousands of dollars to use and no one was going to stop us… except a call on my phone.    "Hold your horses, 'Hog! It’s the frog boy!“    "You are driving.”    "Hold my horses then!“ I let go of the steering wheel and answered the call, striking an ever so sensual pose. Roadie just launching himself to hold the wheel for me, ready as usual.    "G’day, Lúcio!”    "Hello! You free right now, Jamie?“ I was always free for him, what kind of question was that?! In that moment more than ever.    "Sure thing, cobber, what’s up? Dinner?”    "I actually need help…" I sat straight up hearing those words and his worried tone. He asked me if we were anywhere nearby him because he was in real need in that moment. Ever so lucky, we were, just a few kilometres away, nothing a car ride couldn’t fix. Man, what was that period and crime-sprees in convenient locations? We headed to his location immediately… then I realised.    "Wait, do we have our disguises with us?“ ‘Hog shook his head and ordered me to take control of the car because his back was starting to hurt for the position he was forced in. No disguise was no good, what if he didn’t recognise me?! What would he think if he found out that I looked completely different?! What if he found out I had little hair?! I kept on driving while my mind just turned blank.

   "Jamie, Mako?” I scratched the back of my head at his confused expression but then shrugged it off playfully. I stepped into the luxurious hotel room.    "We kind of survived a nuclear war, it’s fine though.“    "You look rad as hell, I love that!” Lúcio’s eyes lit up as he high-fived both me and ‘Hog, his smile so pure it could have killed me. I noticed only in that moment that he too was dressed differently: a gear on his legs, a really weird backpack and an even weirder… gun? What even was that hanging from his belt? It was connected to a band on his arm with a plastic tube… but it didn’t look rudimental at all, more like a really thought out weapon. What the hell was that?! Did it explode?! Hopefully it did! I pointed at it, waiting for him to answer.    "This gun? Just the power of music, man.“    "Too bad, it needs more boom!” He laughed at my comment and pointed it to my face with a swift movement. He pulled the trigger, a loud noise coming out of the gun, and I found myself against a wall, my ears ringing a bit. A couple glasses nearby broke for the impact of the sound wave.    "It can’t boom, but it can boop.“ That was cool. I was deafer than usual, but that was cool!    "So, frog boy, what d’you need us two for? Something to blow up?” He sighed and shook his head.    "Quite the opposite actually, I need to stop Vishkar from blowing up large part of this city.“ That was a shame. Wait… Vishkar…?    "Who again, mate?”    "Vishkar Corporation. They plan on burning the suburbs of this town to ashes so that they can rebuild them to their likings.“ I glanced at ‘Hog, waiting for his opinion on the matter… I swore that was the name of the company we delivered the bombs to that very same day… As expected, we both understood that that was going to be a sticky situation to be in.    "I… I dunno, mate, I mean… Vishkar’s a big corporation with loads of bucks and stuff..”    "I have money too and I know you two are mercenaries, I want your help.“ That was quite the shock. How did he…?! His expression as serious as ever, his eyes injected with that slight hint of revenge. What did Vishkar even do to him? He looked hot as hell like that though.    "How did you know we were mercenaries?” Roadie asked the question for me, I could feel his uneasiness.    "Do you really think I wouldn’t recognise the faces of the two wanted criminals Junkrat and Roadhog?“ He smirked at us and handed me a check. Those were a lot of money. "I am not asking this as friends. I need help and my people aren’t anywhere close at the moment.” He offered me his hand, a serious look directed to the both of us. I gulped, quite surprised by his behaviour.    "Why should we, uh?“    "For all the times I could have called the police but didn’t because I enjoy your company. Deal?”    "Well then, ya could’ve said so sooner.“ Was that going to be a terrible decision? Hell yes. Was I going to leave Lúcio alone? Hell no. I grabbed his hand, gave it a tight squeeze and shook it, he did the same, the most conscious grin plastered on his lips. He did the same to Hog and we all started working on a plan. Who was going to tell frog boy that we worked for that corporation ourselves? Sure as hell not me.

Chapter 7

The three of us were driving toward the warehouse of Vishkar, Mako on the wheel and Jamie sitting in the back next to me. We knew its location thanks to some of my contacts in the city. Jamie was staring at me but I couldn’t really grasp what he could have been thinking. His eyes were empty… they were actually creeping me out.    "Man, can you quit the staring? You know I don’t mind but…” He blinked a dozen times before finally jumping awake from his coma-like state. He excused himself and turned his eyes to the road. The sun was about to set, we had to arrive at that place before it was too late, I knew they were going to act once everyone was sleeping. They did that one too many times for me to forgive them, I will not let another suburb share the same fate as my favela. I received the alert from one of my companions, but he couldn’t make it to the actual action so I was in need of a couple more hands. That’s why I thought of Jamie and Mako; Junkrat and Roadhog that is: they were both friends and mercenaries, there was no reason for them to not help me if they were to be payed. A hand touched my shoulder, I looked up to find Jamie eyeing me weirdly… again.    "Yes?“    "There is something I want to tell ya, but also I don’t want to…” Usually he would make more sense, I swear he had really incredible conversations… or at least incredible attempts at flirting with me. Maybe it just wasn’t the day. I had noticed there was something wrong with him, but I didn’t want to stress him about it; now though he was just rubbing that feeling in my face and I had to ask.    "You have been acting weird today, something’s up, Jamie?“ He hesitated in his answering, his finger pointing at nothing and closing on itself soon after. He scratched the back of his head.    "I just want to get this shit done with already.”    "I wish it would just end here…" They weren’t going to stop. They were to stubborn to understand the meaning of freedom: anarchy is how they call it, disorder, madness, hypocrisy, not suited for a civilized world… I wish they would open their eyes. I am not just assuming their thoughts, during one of my tours I met a woman. She was young and elegant, a beautiful pearl of the east, her hair long and silky, her movements clean and sensual… but in her head, she was brainwashed. She rambled about a perfect world, she spoke nonsense, she believed in crazy ideals. She believed in Vishkar. I tried to convince her, but she too was just as stubborn. Her name was Satya, she told me when I met her, never thought we would come to hate each other. I had to stop Vishkar not only for my people, not only for the freedom of society, but also for people like her. I will free them from that prison of a belief.    "Did Vishkar do something to ya, mate? Y’re looking pretty angry there…" I realised only in that moment that I never told those two what happened to me, even though I had known them for roughly two years now… It was weird how quickly I grew attached to those two, they were out of their minds most of the time… well, Jamie was at least, and they couldn’t give a single care about what happened around them. I loved how they could just shrug off any restriction. I am sure that it’s also thanks to them that I am going head first in this mission of mine: reckless, but free. I must admit that meeting them had really changed me. I was scared at first, I immediately recognised the faces of the two wanted criminals when they first approached me, but somehow the situation worked itself out that night. Now I had two awesome pals I could count on in need. Them being there in that moment… it must have been a little miracle. A little one. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms while speaking.    "They did what I am trying to prevent now. Years ago, before my debut, they burned to the ground my favela just so that they could rebuild it anew according to their standards. Many of my people… my family, risked their lives, children were injured and burnt, their young faces forever scarred by the flames.“ I tightened the grip on my arm, rage and fury trying to get a hold of my brain. "I will never forgive them.” That was all I was going to tell the two, but I didn’t get the reaction I expected… actually, I didn’t really get one: Mako was quietly driving, Jamie was just staring at the horizon, his eyes wide open; he really was making me worried. He was silent for about a minute then he lowered his head.    "That sucks, frog boy.“    "But it won’t happen again.” Right as I said that, Mako stopped the engine and got off the car, Jamie and I followed soon after. At that point, I took the lead and started to scan the area by wallriding. I quietly made my way in the warehouse; no guards seemed to be on duty, weirdly enough. I returned to my companions reporting the situation.    "Maybe they’re hiding!“ Jamie laughed maniacally and grabbed his frag launcher with both hands. "Might as well flush ‘em out, am I right?” Mako held firmly his gun as he stepped forward, he said he was going to test the ground for us. After a couple minutes of searching, still no employee or guard to be seen… why would Vishkar leave a whole warehouse, the one in which they stocked their materials, completely unprotected?    "Last time it wasn’t this quiet…" I jumped on another wall and got another higher view of the area: empty. Jamie followed me with his eyes.    "Last time?“ I landed on a metal box, it was shining in little blue lights, probably used to mark its position.    "When I entered Vishkar back in Rio, there was a high level of security, guards and alarms both, but there’s nothing here.” Jamie laughed again, but it was more of a nervous giggle. He scanned the area quickly, his body twitching with every movement. Mako was keeping an eye on him too; we were both worried apparently. I jumped down back on their level and patted Jamie on the back, concern in my voice.    "You okay, man?“ He stared at me for a couple second before turning roughly and pointing towards the far back of the warehouse.    "There’s nothing here, the bombs must be in a room over there!” I skated ahead, not wanting to lose more time, but I was soon halted by a number of doors. There were sentries, finally a layer of security. Before I could say anything, I saw something flying toward the doors, quickly followed by a loud and flashy explosion: the sentries were destroyed. Jamie threw a mine at them apparently.    "Thank you!“    "No problem, let’s just end this.” He then kicked one of the doors open with no sign of doubt… he looked really aware of the layout of the place. When I spotted the incredible amount of explosive in the room we entered I almost fell to the ground. Vishkar was ill.  While I was lost in my hate, Jamie and Mako just walked to the bombs and started messing with them… only in that moment I noticed something, something I wish I hadn’t. I grabbed one of the bombs and looked at it with care. There was a smiling face on them, one I can easily recognise.    "Jamie…"    "I’ll be done in a sec, mate.“ I was already mad enough, my face was unable to show any kind of emotion in that moment and my chest felt cold. I gripped the bomb, grinding my teeth in anger. I shouldn’t have shouted, they were trying to help me. I shouldn’t have attacked them, they had changed their mind. But what kind of miracle would stab you in the back?

Chapter 8  

Of course I could not have won the fight, of course I had fainted, of course they had finally managed to kidnap me after all that time. I was in the back of the car, I wasn’t tied up or anything… I was their friend after all. Junkrat was not sitting next to me, he was in the front seat, driving as fast as he could, I heard him shouting at nothing, his temper so short he would have exploded… more than usual. But I had no words to calm him down, I had no intention of speaking on friendly terms with them. I was really foolish, wasn’t I? They were taking me God knows where, their chatting drilling in my ears, I turned on my gear, at least I could listen to some music, I told myself. Music was great, always there for me… she couldn’t disappoint me. She was not a so-called miracle. She was all I had in that moment, all I wanted. I closed my eyes, drowning myself in that dream. I saw my family, they were dancing and cheering, the children playing together, the elders quietly enjoying the view of the starry sky as the tune I played embraced them. How could that be considered uncivilized? How could you take it away from us? With what heart can you burn a child away from his freedom? I snapped and punched the car door, making a loud noise that caught the attention of the two junkers. They stared at me, Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but he turned and focused back on driving. I was sending rage and betrayal out of my eyes, my lips sealed: they were not going to hear anything from me. Mako spoke in his heavy voice.    "We are taking you back to your hotel.” They weren’t kidnapping me? My brain could not process the though in that moment and I just considered that information as a pure lie. Have I already said that I was acting foolishly? I would have slapped myself if I could have.    "As if.“ Mako held my stare, not letting my anger get to him. He looked at me from safely behind his mask, I could barely see his eyes.    "Trust us.” I was about to snap again, but Jamie took care of the answer for me.    "Trust us?! After that d’you think he’d be such an idiot as to trust us with anything ever again?!“ His voice sounded both hurt and furious, he was eating on his own words; I could not see his face, but I was sure his eyes were firing and burning what he was facing.    "He’s not stupid.”    "That’s why he won’t have anything to do with us anymore!“    "He’ll understand soon.”    "Y’re not making any sense, mate!“ Jamie finally turned to the other man and what I saw actually made something in me break a bit. His eyes were distant, foggy and… watery. They were so full of different emotions, more than I had predicted. Had I caused that? I hoped from the bottom of my being that I hadn’t. When he turned completely to me, in that fraction of a second I saw that my hopes were just illusions; it was indeed my fault.    "Junkr-…” I halted midway, not wanting to distance myself any further. “Jamie, it’s cool.” Everything went quiet after that. Jamie back to driving, Mako back to facing the road. I was left alone, boiling in my anger as it should have been. I wanted to forgive them, maybe they didn’t know what they were doing; just delivering some bombs, they were just doing what they were payed for. Maybe they didn’t know what Vishkar wanted to do with the explosives. Maybe they did it because they carved that money… I was trying my best to justify their actions, deep inside, under the first layer of fury, the second of disappointment and the third of murderous intent, I wanted to believe in them, I wanted to believe in the sparkling eyes Jamie looked up to me with, in the quiet support of Mako… I took a deep breath, I closed my eyes and I fell asleep, lulled by the soft music in my ears.

I woke up later, a hand gently shaking me, cold metal against my skin. Jamie was looking at my sleeping face, his features not showing any particular emotion. I stood up, but I still had nothing to say to him, a heavy knot in my throat stopped my words from coming out. It was painful, looking at him as he hoped for a smile… I wish I had smiled back then. However I only got off the car, stretching my muscles. He stared at me, his big orbs never letting go of my body… I had known it for a long time, it really was hard to miss; what he felt about me I mean. I was flattered that such a particular person had found an interest in me, but in that moment I could not appreciate his staring at all. My mind was too confused and foggy, too many perspectives were trying to make their way into my subconscious, I had to shut something out. That something so happened to be my feelings for him. That was such a bad decision to take, I blame myself.    "Wanna drink something?“ Jamie offered me the tea he always had on himself, I sighed and faced him; a death stare he could not stand. "Sorry about that, Lú…” He sat on the ground, his hands covering his ears and grabbing violently his hair. I wanted to sit next to him.

   "Can I know the reason? Why did you give all that explosive to Vishkar?“    "It was just a job! They offered us bucks we needed, they only said they wanted to rebuild buildings in the city!” He answered as fast as he could, a desperate tone in his voice. I wanted to forgive him.    "Well, they were not lying, but they were going to burn down people too!“    "That I couldn’t have known!” I took a step towards him, using the temporary height advantage to make my point clear.    "Vishkar is mad, everyone can see that Jamie!“    "If you had told me sooner I wouldn’t have helped them!” He didn’t know. It wasn’t his fault. Vishkar from the eyes of an outsider could look like the best corporation in the world. Why would anyone in their right mind think that they’d light-heartedly blow up houses with people in them?    "Why didn’t you tell me you delivered them the explosives then?!“    "Because I decided I was going to get rid of ‘em anyway! I was going to throw away days of hard work because you asked for it, frog boy!” I was at fault. I had no right to be angry at him. He changed his mind. I had to take a step down, put my pride to the side. Sit down. Apologise. I sat down next to him, my eyes to the ground. Why were my feelings so hard to reach? I knew where they were: they held my heart in place, it couldn’t beat freely, they wouldn’t come out. When I looked at Jamie, I saw that he had managed to get out what I could not. His eyes were so… He was so unpredictable, you would think he wasn’t serious in his apology, that he was just a random bomber, a mercenary, a crazy psychopath, a pyro… he was all of that, but he was human too. He did feel pain when injured, he did feel sorrow when hurt, he did feel despair when helpless. I did see regret in his distant cold eyes, those same eyes he used to stare at me in awe with. I wanted them to regain that spark of life; I wanted the crazy bomber to scream and laugh out loud again, a proud smirk plastered on his face. Time can heal all wounds, but I was not going to wait. Something else could cure, something even more effective than time. I just pulled my portable console out of my bag, connected it to the backpack and turned it on. Jamie tried to say something, but I stopped him.    "It’s cool, let’s just calm down now.“ I started to mix the tracks I had saved, low keys and slow tunes… that was a way to say sorry, right? Jamie was sitting next to me, checking both my hands and my expression as they both turned calmer and calmer as the song played on. He was smiling a bit, I took a glance of that. I was grateful for that smile. I too tried to draw one on my face, I probably failed though.

Chapter 9  

Jamie was looking at me intently, so intently it was almost embarrassing. It wasn’t though, I appreciated each of his glances… I loved his attentions. Because of my awful mood I had forgotten how good it felt to be stared by those eyes. I slid closer to him, our arms touching, his cold metal sending shivers over my naked arm. What was I mad about again? I just wanted to forget at that point… I closed my eyes and leaned over, my head on his shoulder; the console playing music by itself…    "I don’t want to hate you, Jamie.” He stayed silent, only his breath could be heard in the darkness. It was a peaceful rhythm to follow, the bass of his heartbeat slowly growing stronger. He rested his head on mine, a sigh escaping his lips. My hand looking for his and finding it on his knee. I gently forced my fingers to intertwine with his.    "It would be nice if you didn't…" Nice… a pretty cold word just like his hand, freezing metal, but his forehead was warm, his chest a pleasant cosiness embracing me. Just a little longer, just the two of us. No Vishkar, no bombs, no fires, no world. Just us… I loved it. That small miracle… I begged to believe in it.    "I want to love you, Jamie.“ He snuggled closer after a few seconds, his hand now holding mine. His voice cracked as he spoke, I could not picture what kind of expression he was wearing.    "Think ya can manage that after all this shit?” I nodded and opened my eyes, slightly worried about his hurt voice. I could see myself in his teary eyes, his mouth turned into a sad sulk, he was trying his best to keep his cool for me. There was no need. I should have checked on him sooner though. I caressed his cheek and smiled, softly and gently; I was there for him to see, smiling, just the way he was used to see me. I stroke his hair as I ran my free arm around his neck.    "Shit happens.“ And shit happened, but it was good shit.

Chapter 10  

That morning… yeah, probably the only lingering question was a really confused…    "How?!” How did that happen?! Why did that happen?! “'Hog, how?!”    "You are naked.“    "That’s not the point, you fat drongo!” It took me a while to pick up that question, I had almost finished my breakfast when I remembered what happened… what happened… I smashed my head on the table again and again, trying to beat myself awake from that dream. When did we even get into that expensive-looking hotel room?! Why was 'Hog bogging in some expensive-looking pastries?!    "Where is the frog?!“ The big guy pointed at a door far in the back of the large living room. I ran towards it, ready to slam it open, but I remembered at the last moment what could have expected me behind that door: either a dream from the past night or… a really messy empty bed… I begged for it to be the first one, I didn’t want it to be just an illusion again. It had already happened, okay? Got something to say? Better not, I’ll make you blow up, I swear. Jamison calm your shit and open that door! I grabbed the knob and slowly walked into the room. He was there. Snooring and drooling like the princess he was. He was there. I held my breath for a moment and sat on the bed myself. I wondered and wondered, thought and thought, but I could find no answer to the stream of fucking questions. Jamison, you cunt, how did that happen?! I didn’t know then, I don’t know now, what the hell happened?! He yawned. Piece of junk. That was adorable.    "Good morning.” Send help, that was all I could think about. Wish him a good morning too? That was a great idea!    "G'day.“ I cracked a smile, it was so nervous my cheeks were hurting like hell. His on the other hand… he opened his eyes slowly at first, a chuckle escaped his soft lips when he saw my face.    "Still a bit embarassed, aren’t we?” I wanted to kiss the shit out of him. I could not bring myself to speak, he was just too handsome. Lúcio sat up and opened his arms, the sheet sliding off his figure to reveal his dark skin. He beckoned me to hug him, his head tilting to the side. Was I allowed to?! I got closer but didn’t dare to… he took me by surprise when he just launched himself in my arms, snuggling his face in my neck. I was stiff… so stiff…

  “It’s a shame, but you two should leave the hotel…” After getting dressed, that was not the first topic I wanted to cover, but frog boy was right. We really needed to get out of that place.    "Gotcha, we’ll get out in a second.“    "I’m telling this for your sake, people might recognise you in here…” He was pouting, as if he thought we had been offended by his consideration. I smiled at him.    "If they do, we might as well just kidnap you, right?“ I still wanted to kidnap him, at that time more than ever. I didn’t want to leave Lúcio’s side yet.    "Too clichè at this point, don’t you think?”    "Yeah, poor 'Hog over there would just throw me another one on the head if I tried to.“ We both laughed it off as I picked up my stuff, packed it into my bag and threw it from the window and on the car below. Roadie said he was going on ahead and said goodbye to Lúcio with a powerful handshake before slowly taking the outdoor stairs to the ground floor. I stood in the living room for a bit, bludging. Frog boy finally walked up to me, his hand travelling high to my neck, asking me to bend for him, which I gladly did. His lips on mine felt just so right, I wanted more again. He pinched my nose when he understood my intentions when I forced the kiss. But I didn’t want to let go yet, I wanted him close to me… my small sunshine… my adorable frog…    "Call me, ‘kay?” He kissed the tip of my nose, stroking my face. “I’ll be waiting.”    "I don’t want to wait.“    "We’ll both have to.” I kissed him that time around, I couldn’t help it. Just a quick peck, just to… make sure he still wanted me to. He did, he smiled again. That precious smile.

It’s been a while now, back to the crime-sprees, just me and old 'Hog… fells good, mate. The world knows our names, we are wanted by so many people: we are just like superstars! We are so cool that we always have bucks in our wallets, foods in our stomachs, bombs in our hands and first-row in concerts granted for life. What a great life we are living! Maybe the running from the cops part is not that great, especially if they interrupt the concert to smoke you out… I hate it when they do it, I just want to enjoy some music! I always have to get up from my seat, guzzle my tea and start running.

A hero association we thought was done for actually contacted us once. They asked us to join: the world could always use more heroes! We are crazy criminals, don’t even joke about that, girl. Someone else did join though… he, a dj, a freedom fighter and now a “hero"… well, I had to see it coming. He was just too suited for a role like that, he was born to be a hero. Or was he?

I love his music, even if when I do go all the way to watch him perform, that’s when the police finds me… still, not sure who is following who at this point, we just bump into each other, like magnets, every land we go he’s there for us, every place we run to, he has already a date planned. We can’t stay much together when we meet, but it’s fine, he’s just a call away. He’s a tune away, he’s a nothing away.

Good job on surviving until the end, you earned yourself a cookie <3<br>Remember that I am still not a native English speaker so I have limits.

[antonioviolarosa]

Nothing Away

Series: Overwatch

Pairing: Boombox (Junkrat x  Lúcio)

Chapters: 10/10

Words: 10.835

Subject: sligthly alternated universe in which a fanboy Junkrat fucks everything up.

It’s a ten-chapters-long fic that will probably either make you squeal or cringe or both so be prepared. Last warning, I like streams of thoughs.

Chapter 1  

On that day I was strolling downtown, enjoying the view of happy children playing football in the empty dusty street. Seeing such innocent fun delighted me: they were so free and beautiful. A white truck was trying to make its way on that road, so I stepped in and made the children move. As I did that, the driver lowered the window and thanked me, a really heavy accent marking his words. He then drove by, showing me a logo I could never forget: Vishkar Corporation. It was a powerful multinational; why would such corporation wander the suburbs like that? At the time I didn’t have any clues. I didn’t like Vishkar, their methods to improve the quality of life in big cities weren’t my cup of tea, everything they did was so … perfect… it looked like a miracle. And I am not the type to believe in miracles easily. Music can at times bring joy to a sorrowful heart, but it can’t last forever. It was almost fishy how each place they visited turned into a paradise overnight. Were they in Rio for that same goal then? Suspicious how they had just one truck, how could they build buildings with just that? Something clung to the hem of my pants, a gentle pull.   "Lúcio, wanna play with us?“ I patted the child’s head and nodded. His eyes lit up as he beamed proudly his young smile.   "Sure, champion!”

The sunset began to steal the light, so I led the children to their houses; the street was not a good place for children at night, so I always made sure they were home safe. Carrying his dirty ball in his hands, one of them was bragging about some tricks he pulled off in game, others were playfully telling him to shut up; I only laughed at the scene: it was such a peaceful view. There really was no place like that in the entire world. I was sure of that. No matter how shiny the big city behind those little shaggy houses looked, the warm lights turned that dirty view into a home to return to at dusk, our home.

Each of the families I visited that night asked me to stay for dinner, how nice of them to think of me, but I too had a place to be. I had a concert planned for later that evening: it was a small party, the owner of the local asked me, as a regular, to perform for the guests and hopefully attract more costumers from outside. I gladly agreed to help, but I had no expectation of drawing any crowd; I only played music to lift the burdens of my people, I thought I had not that much skill to pull a career out of it. I made my way in the club.   "Chief, I’m here!“   "Oh, thank you very much, Lúcio. Make yourself at home!” I put my portable console on the counter and stretched my arms, a bit soar from carrying it around all day. I quickly installed it and set the speakers around the dance floor, checked the lights and the quality of the audio; it wasn’t the best, but for a raw space like that it was already something. The party started and just as the owner thought, many people came to the bar, filling each corner just to listen to my music. Both from the favela and the town, some of them were complete strangers to me. However it was my people that made the night great, they sang, they danced and called my name: all of my work paid off at least. Their happiness was all I wanted, their cheerful voices were all I cared about. Too bad the children were home, but I can always play for them at daytime. As the clock hit three in the morning, the club owner signalled me to stop the music, marking the end of my concert. I thanked everyone for their presence that night and waited for those who wanted an autograph or a picture. I smiled in all of those, strangers or not, my music made their life better even if just a tiny bit and I was proud of that. One of the last to come up to me was quite the particular fellow, his expression stuck between embarrassment and happiness as I shook his hand and posed for the picture his friend took. I was sure he was from outside the favela, but his appearance was not suitable for the town… I couldn’t imagine such a person around the streets of any city, let alone a big one like Rio. I realized he had to be a tourist when he started speaking in English to me; or what I thought was English, he had such a weird accent it was difficult to understand all of his words. His clothes were baggy and badly kept, stains of dirt on the knees and elbows. They both left after another powerful handshake, he laughed his way out while staring at the screen he took the picture with.

Chapter 2

Rio stipulated a contract with Vishkar that day. They made it public around noon and a few hours later agents and architects were all over the place, scanning each alley and corner of my suburb. I did not like that idea, strangers wandering around, claiming to be protectors and saviours… however, my people had faith in them, so I gave them a chance: everyone deserved it. The next day I received a call from one of Vishkar’s employees. With her mechanical voice she asked me if I needed a job and told me to go to their closest branch office. I had been in need of an actual job for a long time, all I did in the last couple of years was working as a freelancer dj or as handyman for the families of my favela. I didn’t swim in gold, but I wasn’t exactly poor either, not compared to my people. The Omnic Crisis hit Brazil’s economy so hard, the situation only began to worsen for us; as the city grew bigger, finally surpassing the Crisis, the favelas around it only grew poorer and poorer… but my people chose to believe in the opportunities Vishkar offered and I wanted to trust their decision. I entered the branch office, a tall dark-skinned woman greeted me with an elegant bow.   "Welcome to Vishkar Corporation, I suppose you are here for the jobs we are currently offering the people of this city.“   "Thank you for your offer, I am desperate for a job right now.” I laughed it off, the woman only chuckled. “What kind of job is this?”   "You see, we are working on developing Rio de Janeiro for the better, new instalments, buildings, roads and public transports. We have plans for a brighter future, but we need help with handwork.“   "Handwork? And here I thought you architects could build everything with a snap of your fingers…”   "Not all architects are like that. Are you willing to work with us?“ My first job was driving one of their trucks to the other side of the town to collect the materials they needed. It was a relaxing trip, I also managed to put on some good tunes instead of those old noises the radio used to pump. I could have worked with that job just fine, but as soon as I delivered the materials they told me I had to help with the building next. Too bad. That time it was draining, I struggled so much with all those heavy pillars and concrete blocks, my sweat was sticking to my skin along with the dust. The people that were working in-group with me were on the brick of collapsing too. All of this while two of the architects watched from afar, all elegant in their white attires… At the end of that exhausting day at least I got to retrieve my payment… it was so little it didn’t even cover dinner.   "Excuse me, with all the work we’ve done, is this really it?” They closed the door to my face after telling me to return the day after for other jobs. My co-workers and I looked at each other, our grips firm on the envelope with our salary.   "It is just the first day, tomorrow we’ll get more!“ A cheerful man smiled and put the envelope in his large pockets.   "He’s right, Lúcio!” A man around my age patted my back. “Also, it is the first job we get in a long while, we should appreciate that.”   "Guess it must be like you say then.“ I barely muttered… I wanted to trust those smiles: it was just the first day, a test to see if we could really help them. After all, they wanted to make Rio great again, the favelas too. Maybe they were really going to make miracles happen. The sunset turned the sky orange fast that day, the children still playing in the streets began to pick up their toys. I walked up to them and they ran to me, giggling and waving without a single worry in the world. I had been starting to think: the streets weren’t a safe place in the dark hours ever since the crisis, but now it was over, right? I grew up stuck in my house, I was really upset when I couldn’t get to finish a match against my friends… those trivial things could matter again finally. With the help of Vishkar our home could finally become the safe place we wanted. I smiled at the children, picking the youngest girl up and tickling her.   "I don’t want to look too much ahead, but I believe that in little time you guys will be able to play all you want.”   "Really?“ They jumped happily when I nodded grinning. The streets were going to be well-lit by Vishkar technology, some agents were going to patrol at night, just to make sure nothing happened and maybe we could finally be paired with Rio, not just as its slums. While I was strolling around I spotted some Vishkar agents. They were armed…   "You over there!” I halted immediately and pointed at myself confused.   "Yes you! What are you doing outside? Go back home right now!“ I apologised by instinct and headed straight home with swift steps. I noticed they kept on following me until I finally locked myself in my house.   "This is no good…”

Weeks went by and… none of our expectations were met. All Vishkar Corporation cared about was the quick development of Rio, all they did was exploit what they could to achieve it. None of that was according to the promises they made, living in the favela was hard as ever before. Curfews had always been a thing, but only for young children, now no one could walk the streets at night. I thought it was going to be the other way around, but it is not. Their controls are so strict on us, we can’t live a single day without being beaten up for no reason, some of our behaviours were called lawless, our morals unfitting of a civilized world. Our salary didn’t grow any higher, we were fighting to stay alive more than ever. We had no money to eat, we had no permission to leave the favela, we could not get another job… we were just like prisoners… I couldn’t even play my music anymore because it didn’t suit the project they had for the town. How dared they say that when music was the only thing that, even for just those few minutes, had already saved my people from despair so many times?

I was sick of that.

We grouped up one afternoon at my pals’ house, we organized a way to show Vishkar who they were trying to submit. We were forced to work on their technologies, those the architects used to create shapes and buildings, instalments and so on. We had no idea how that light technology worked, we never got an answer when we asked, but we knew where it was stored. After all, we were the ones securing them. For a few days we planned our actions step by step, I spoke up for most of the people in the meeting and volunteered to take the lead of the main action. We were ready to take over.

Chapter 3

I admit we infiltrated Vishkar, we did revolt and we did damaged their facility, but I’ll never accept the crime of stealing. Their technology was the result of the hard work of my people, it was ours by right. When we got back to our base, everyone called my name as if I was some kind of hero to their eyes. I was no hero, I barely shouted orders, but I wanted to keep fighting for them. We improvised a concert that night, Vishkar could not stop us anymore; they were already driven out of our favela. Music was such a gift to our souls, our minds were at peace again, my fingers felt light as I scratched the console. I turned up the volume, everyone danced, children and adults alike: it was not a miracle, it was pure freedom, finally.

What happened after was a disastrous turn of events. The night tasted like burning wood and metal, a terribly hot night with screaming echoing in its silence. A fire, all over the place. And everything was a mess. I did all I could to help my family, their screaming killed me, but I too was shouting, shouting for them to hear me over the noisy bursting of flames. Everything turned against us in such a short amount of time.

No victims at least, but so many were harmed and burnt so badly their faces were unrecognisable. In the past I had carried many children in my arms to help them, but never were they so weak, so powerless. Their homes were turning to ashes with little hope to be saved from the ferocious flames. I was dying inside, while on the outside I had to stay calm and think about what to do next, quick and precise. My people… my family needed me more than ever. We managed to evacuate everyone thanks to the help of the young adults, but we ended up out of our favela, out of the city. There was no place for us to return. I couldn’t do anything more than that… I was weak. I let myself fall to the ground, hateful tears staining my face. That caught attention. I didn’t want them to see me like that; it was all my fault, it was my fault they lost everything they had. Had I been stronger they would have been unharmed, had I been smarter they would have been evacuated more efficiently, had I been braver they wouldn’t have had to suffer. Young men and women walked up to me, patted my back and forced me back on my feet. My tears already dried out, but my red eyes gave my feelings away.   "Forgive me, it’s my fault…" One of the oldest of the group sighed loudly, watching closely each of my drained expressions. Another man came up shortly after.   "It is not, youngling. Our bodies are doing fine but… Do us all a favour, mind playing some tunes for our sad souls?“   "We could always use some good music.” They lifted me up and punched my chest in a friendly way. I clenched my fist on my chest, where his had had hit. They were right. I quickly set up the console and gears, pumping up all the music I could think of. No matter what happened before, no matter what will happen in the future, there was always something we could all believe in. There was always that special gift to everyone: music. I thanked all of them that night; I played for them until it was daytime, we partied like we were free and happy like we used to, the flames in the background slowly fading in black dust. We had no home, but we had each other.

Few weeks after that terrible nightmare, just like in a badly scripted movie, we were all back to our daily life, back in our houses with little to no motivation. They were not our old homes, but new ones the architects of Vishkar created for us. We were so lucky to have them… not. It was them. They were behind it all. Their impossible utopia was all they cared about, not about our lives, our homes… just about that monstrous imaginary world they built for themselves in their rotten brains. Burn down a favela just to rebuild it to your likings? Why didn’t they just tell us to evacuate then? Why did they put so many lives on the line? They were barbarians, crazy psychopaths. Not only were they back in our favela, but their controls were as strict as ever. It was hard. However, even in the worst situation, I did have some luck; my name spread across the country along with my tapes after the night we infiltrated Vishkar. People contacted me to play in their locals, concerts, they wanted more of my inspiring music… inspiring, just as it should be. Did I have the right to neglect my people for my career? I thought I didn’t, but everyone pushed me to go for it. They promised they would not give up, that they would support me and remember their freedom. So I started my journey, a lonely long journey, taking with me what I didn’t want Vishkar to have back.

Chapter 4

  "Man, ain’t this Lúcio the best thing in the world!“ The big guy sighed through his gas mask.   "Y'right, who ‘m I kidding, explosions come first.” At the time I was working on a new type of concussion mine, all while listening to some appealing elevator noises. ‘Hog told me the music was too loud, but I was deaf and I wanted to listen to it, so I didn’t care. “I remember when I first saw him, that frog boy.” ‘Hog tossed me a screwdriver I really didn’t need, but I kept it next to me just to be sure.   "Really? Am I really that predictable?“ I looked at him a bit shocked, usually he would enjoy my conversation topics, not tell me to change so quickly. "Though y’ liked him too, mate.”   "What d’you mean not in the same way I do? What other ways are there to like someone? No, now y’explain! Don’t go in the garage, y’know I don’t have my peg on right now! Come back ya cunt!“ I tried to crawl my way and follow him, but the wires of the mines were too much of an obstacle to overcome. I just laid on my stomach, growling annoyed by the rude interruption. I got up and threw away the mine, which exploded in the back of the garden, but it didn’t matter, it was already a dump as it was. I reached for my peg leg, I wasn’t wearing it because I had been fixing it earlier, I got up and headed inside the garage, our temporary base. ‘Hog was turning down the volume of the music, That made me mad.   "I told ya I don’t give a shit about your sissy hearing! I want to hear the basses!” Grumping and snorting, I hit him in his fat belly with my metal arm. I knew that must have hurt him! But he punched me to the ground with little to no efforts and told me to shut up.   "Roger that…" There I was again, lying on the floor face down. Why did I even bother to get up again? At least from this position I could still hear my favourite funky noises. Dunno why they were so addictive, they just turned me up. And that little Brazilian frog, he did turn me up as well… or on… not sure which one it was anymore.   "’Hog, me man, where is the picture again?“   "Gotcha, and where’s my phone?”   "In my pants that are…?“   "Of course I know I’m wearing ‘em, shuddup!” I took the phone out of my pocket and quickly headed to the gallery, just so I could see the picture one more time. I loved that picture, each little pixel of it. It was from that time when me and the big guy were in Rio just chilling and got to hear Lúcio’s music for the first time. He even shook my hand! Can’t believe a music star touched a hand of a mercenary like me. On a second point though, we weren’t really chilling, more like working. I won’t go too much in detail, but a certain corporation may or may not have asked us junkers to find a way to quickly burn to the ground a large stock of houses and buildings. Well, unfortunately, we didn’t get to see them burn up, since they only wanted us to provide the otherwise too-suspicious-for-such-a-corporation amount of explosive needed. They told me it was to get rid of the old buildings of the town to build new ones, a totally legit work for once, it felt weird. And I didn’t even get to see the explosion, what a waste of time and bombs. It’s been quite some years since that time though, man I even had all of my hair in that picture! Where did my hair go? I miss it… Hog came back and smacked me on the head with a newspaper. I was about to shout at him, but he shoved it in my face and left again. Did I have to look at that? How pushy of him, honestly… I did just that anyways and oh boy I had to read it again and again to believe it.   "He’s coming here! ‘Hog! ‘Hog! He’s coming here!“ I ran to the door, only to meet face-first my mate’s giant hand. "The frog boy!!” It was such a coincidence for us to be in the UK too! He was going to be there!! I was excited, maybe I could see him again… He looked at me, his eyes dead serious.   "Do you want to go?“ I nodded my head frenetically at his question, my eyes sparkling with expectations. I fidgeted at the idea of meeting Lúcio again. The big guy sighed loudly.

Chapter 5  

It wasn’t really planned, but it was nothing we couldn’t handle. We stood near the backdoor entrance of the coolest, most expensive-looking club of the entire town, the one and only place were the frog was going to show off his new hits. We were hiding in the shadows, waiting for the prey to… there he was! Holy dooley was he more handsome in person and so short and he looked so nice and his smile and and and… Hog smacked me in the back of my head to bring me back to earth. He was right, we had a plan. Why was he alone anyways? Not even a bodyguard? What if a gang of dirty creeps tried to kidnap him?! What if we were those creeps?! … we were those creeps. I took a step forward, preventing him from reaching the doorknob.   "G'evening! Lúcio, am I right?” He stared at me unimpressed. He was so short… not even reaching my shoulder. That was adorable?!   "In the flesh, what can I do for you?“   "Y'know, me and me friend here were wondering if you’d let us kidnap ya.” His expression didn’t change one bit, his happy smile still on his dorky face. So adorable?!   "Usually you ask for autographs, not kidnapping.“ He laughed it off, probably thinking I was joking. "Are you two fans? Got no tickets for the show?”   "No tickets, mate, we were just prancing around, checking out… the scenery…"   "Well… this is just a badly-lit alley, but I guess it can have its charm.“   "Agree! The rubbish bins and the greens from that neon over there just add that atmosphere, right?” At that moment I could hear Hog just sighing a “what even is this conversation”, to which I answered with a glare. That was my first actual conversation with frog boy and he was not going to ruin it! I turned back to Lúcio and he was chuckling… I panicked.   "The show is packed, but I guess I could let you in at least if you want to listen to the concert. I can’t just leave out two fans like this.“ That would have been nice! But that was not the point!   "No, no, y’got the wrong idea, mate! We’re here to actually kidnap ya!”   "We are here for the concert.“ Hog spoke up, a hand on my head, pushing it down, forcing me to show an apologetic behaviour. Lúcio smiled again.   "You almost scared me there, I can’t miss a concert for charity, especially around this time of the year.” He was worried about charity after a threat like that? What even was wrong with this bloke’s moral code?! Gosh his smile was the most sunshine-like thing ever… I bit my lip, unable to stop the staring. What were we doing there again?   "Am I bothering ya? Sorry about that mate…" He chuckled again, something inside me began to tick, it felt just like the sound of a timer… it felt nice and warm and ready to explode.   "Not at all, thank you for the distraction, I was actually really tense before meeting you.“ Well, I was the one that was tense now. He… he… he… ‘Hog hit me again in the back of my head. I scanned the area, trying to focus my eyes on something different, which happened to be his hair: it looked so soft to the touch…   "Y’re welcome…” I reached for the back of my head, scratching it to distract myself, pretty sure the feeling didn’t match the view though, my hair was dry and ruined. “You should get going then, y'know, to your charity and stuff…” He took out his phone, or what I though was a phone, it was a brand new model, unlike my old one, and checked the time.   "I was early anyway. What are your names? I can give them to the staff and let you in.“ Think fast, think fast, think fast! Faster! You don’t have all day!   "J-Jamie!” I spit out. “And my friend here’s Mako.” Lúcio tapped something on the screen and nodded.   "Mako and Jamie, got it. I’ll forward your names right away.“ He nodded happily while messing with his phone. A few seconds after he received a reply. "Alright, you can enter.” He beamed a smile and a thumb up, but I was too hyped about him calling me by name.

 “Do you think he recognised me?” We walked in the club, following one of the bodyguards. I was still excited and trembling, a big smile crawling on my face. ‘Hog shook his head no, pointing at my face.   "C’mon! My face is not that easy to forg-… oh… y'right…" I had been wearing a disguise all day long. I suddenly felt sad, a empty feeling of empty emptiness in my chest. I was wearing a hat, a scarf, glasses and all that shit… he couldn’t possibly have recognised me… The big guy patted me on the back, pulling me with him inside the room where Lúcio was about to perform. There I was though, standing proudly right under that hyper frog. And that was the second time! And then there was my favourite song! And his eyes were so focused but so carefree and his hands worked so intently on that console! I couldn’t stop staring at him. Had I been lucky? Yes, I had. Was that luck going to take me any further? I doubted it. I decided to watch quietly, only bouncing and tapping my feet to the rhythm. Boy, were they the best elevator noises in the whole world… at a certain point he also sang! He sang! And he waved at me during a short break! Well… he waved in my general direction… but he waved at me! I was burning inside, but it wasn’t the usual explosive… it was gentler…   "’Hog, can we-“   "No.”   "Gotcha.“ Kidnapping was not in my mate’s plans apparently. But I wanted him so bad… screw that! If Hog wasn’t with me, I would have done it myself! … after the end of the concert, because that shit was amazing to watch.

Hours later we left the club, my mind, my ears and my eyes still in utter bliss for the performance. I probably also agreed to donating something to charity in that mental state, but fuck it I was too happy to care. I felt my cheeks hurting for the huge smile on my face but I didn’t give a care. Right when I though the day couldn’t turn any better, someone poked my shoulder, by the size of the hand it couldn’t be ‘Hog. I turned quickly and I froze.   "Did you enjoy the concert? I saw you made donations, I wanted to thank you.” The frog boy in the flesh, again, in front of me, alone… my heart!! I cracked a smile and nodded my head, trying to at least answer his question despite my panic. He beamed a grin, his eyes half-closed. I could not stand that anymore.   "Stop being so cute or I’ll kidnap you!“ He halted for a minute and then laughed my threat off, again. Why wouldn’t he believe me?! I was a wanted criminal, with a 25 million dollars bounty on my head! I was in a disguise but it didn’t matter, how was I not fishy to his eyes?! I stared at him confused, ‘Hog just ready to snap me out of it, but Lúcio spoke up.   "There you go again with the kidnapping, you know, there are other ways to ask a guy out…” Ask out? …ask… him… out? Did he thought…?   "You got it wrong, mate! I… I just…" Why wouldn’t Hog help me?! I was a mess in that moment and he was just standing there, laughing behind that mask of his without the slightest care! I was embarrassing myself in front of the frog and he was not helping! Oh, I was going to punch that smirk out of his face, oh, yes I was! But first, I had a little stuttering to deal with.   "I-I j-just really like y-yo-your m-music…" Lúcio smiled again, taking a step closer to hear my voice, which was slowly getting lower and lower. “Y-y’re great…”   "Thanks!“ He was a sunshine… a total pure ray of sunshine, beaming in my face and torturing me with its heath. My face was burning, probably my expression was both tense and awkward, my lips stuck on a forced smile and my eyes wide open behind the fake lenses of the glasses of my disguise. I scratched the back of my head clumsily, almost getting my prosthesis stuck in the wool of my hat.   "Seriously though,” I regained my cool, just that little bit to speak without stuttering, my cheeks were still flaming hot. “can I kidnap ya?” I turned to face ‘Hog, who just facepalmed with no respect. How dare he?! I was being serious there!   "I don’t have that much time, unfortunately.“ His voice sounded really apologetic, his eyes never losing mine. "The tour and stuff, I’m just packed, man…”   "Oh… I see, that’s unfortunate, mate…"   "I can give you my number though, let’s meet up some other time.“ He handed me a slip of plasticised paper, there was a number, a signature and a doodled frog on it. An autograph… his number… still he couldn’t be kidnapped… too bad… wait.   "Hold on, why am I asking for permission?!” He blinked confused.   "Well, because that’s what you do when you ask someone out?“   "I’m not asking anyone out! Ya got it all w-” In that moment ‘Hog stopped being a silent wallpaper and he smacked me.   "We are going home.“   "What?!”   "Now.“ He grabbed me by my scarf and pulled with all of his might, I was choking, but the view I had made it impossible for me to die; Lúcio was smiling cheerfully, a hand holding his stomach, holding back the laughter. He was so… so… I was speechless.   "Call me, ‘kay, Jamie?” I thought I could not die watching him, but he was breathtakingly handsome. He winked when I nodded in response and then he left to go back in the club.   "'Hog… I got his number…"   "I’m glad.“ I stared at the slip of paper, my hand trailing to the phone in my pocket. I grabbed it and sent a text to that number saying it was me. I got an almost immediate response.

-          Got you saved :)

My body just melted, the big guy just carrying me over his shoulder. Was that day a miracle? How did that happen?! I witnessed a miracle. A damn miracle I tell you!   "I fucking love him.”

Chapter 6  

So apparently we were requested for some other legit job, that was weird. What was weirdest though was the fact that we had been hired by the same corporation of some years ago, the one that wanted to blow up the city… what was it called again? Vikar? Fishkar? Whatevikar? On the phone they told me the needed about the same amount of explosive as last time but the order was due in three days… who did they think we were, bombs dispensers?! They don’t grow on threes yet, but apparently they didn’t know. Both me and ‘Hog worked hard though, we wanted all those juicy bucks. So we pulled a couple all-nighters and finished the job on time. In the morning we were in charge of moving it from our basement to their warehouse. Luckily for us our crime-spree brought us to a city really close to their headquarters, so we could easily deliver the bombs. We put them all in the back of our car and we sped through the streets, trying to meet the deadline; I might be a criminal, but I sure ain’t late. We reached the warehouse in little time, dropped the bombs, got our bucks and left, smooth as silk. Now we had a couple thousands of dollars to use and no one was going to stop us… except a call on my phone.   "Hold your horses, 'Hog! It’s the frog boy!“   "You are driving.”   "Hold my horses then!“ I let go of the steering wheel and answered the call, striking an ever so sensual pose. Roadie just launching himself to hold the wheel for me, ready as usual.   "G’day, Lúcio!”   "Hello! You free right now, Jamie?“ I was always free for him, what kind of question was that?! In that moment more than ever.   "Sure thing, cobber, what’s up? Dinner?”   "I actually need help…" I sat straight up hearing those words and his worried tone. He asked me if we were anywhere nearby him because he was in real need in that moment. Ever so lucky, we were, just a few kilometres away, nothing a car ride couldn’t fix. Man, what was that period and crime-sprees in convenient locations? We headed to his location immediately… then I realised.   "Wait, do we have our disguises with us?“ ‘Hog shook his head and ordered me to take control of the car because his back was starting to hurt for the position he was forced in. No disguise was no good, what if he didn’t recognise me?! What would he think if he found out that I looked completely different?! What if he found out I had little hair?! I kept on driving while my mind just turned blank.

  "Jamie, Mako?” I scratched the back of my head at his confused expression but then shrugged it off playfully. I stepped into the luxurious hotel room.   "We kind of survived a nuclear war, it’s fine though.“   "You look rad as hell, I love that!” Lúcio’s eyes lit up as he high-fived both me and ‘Hog, his smile so pure it could have killed me. I noticed only in that moment that he too was dressed differently: a gear on his legs, a really weird backpack and an even weirder… gun? What even was that hanging from his belt? It was connected to a band on his arm with a plastic tube… but it didn’t look rudimental at all, more like a really thought out weapon. What the hell was that?! Did it explode?! Hopefully it did! I pointed at it, waiting for him to answer.   "This gun? Just the power of music, man.“   "Too bad, it needs more boom!” He laughed at my comment and pointed it to my face with a swift movement. He pulled the trigger, a loud noise coming out of the gun, and I found myself against a wall, my ears ringing a bit. A couple glasses nearby broke for the impact of the sound wave.   "It can’t boom, but it can boop.“ That was cool. I was deafer than usual, but that was cool!   "So, frog boy, what d’you need us two for? Something to blow up?” He sighed and shook his head.   "Quite the opposite actually, I need to stop Vishkar from blowing up large part of this city.“ That was a shame. Wait… Vishkar…?   "Who again, mate?”   "Vishkar Corporation. They plan on burning the suburbs of this town to ashes so that they can rebuild them to their likings.“ I glanced at ‘Hog, waiting for his opinion on the matter… I swore that was the name of the company we delivered the bombs to that very same day… As expected, we both understood that that was going to be a sticky situation to be in.   "I… I dunno, mate, I mean… Vishkar’s a big corporation with loads of bucks and stuff..”   "I have money too and I know you two are mercenaries, I want your help.“ That was quite the shock. How did he…?! His expression as serious as ever, his eyes injected with that slight hint of revenge. What did Vishkar even do to him? He looked hot as hell like that though.   "How did you know we were mercenaries?” Roadie asked the question for me, I could feel his uneasiness.   "Do you really think I wouldn’t recognise the faces of the two wanted criminals Junkrat and Roadhog?“ He smirked at us and handed me a check. Those were a lot of money. "I am not asking this as friends. I need help and my people aren’t anywhere close at the moment.” He offered me his hand, a serious look directed to the both of us. I gulped, quite surprised by his behaviour.   "Why should we, uh?“   "For all the times I could have called the police but didn’t because I enjoy your company. Deal?”   "Well then, ya could’ve said so sooner.“ Was that going to be a terrible decision? Hell yes. Was I going to leave Lúcio alone? Hell no. I grabbed his hand, gave it a tight squeeze and shook it, he did the same, the most conscious grin plastered on his lips. He did the same to Hog and we all started working on a plan. Who was going to tell frog boy that we worked for that corporation ourselves? Sure as hell not me.

Chapter 7

The three of us were driving toward the warehouse of Vishkar, Mako on the wheel and Jamie sitting in the back next to me. We knew its location thanks to some of my contacts in the city. Jamie was staring at me but I couldn’t really grasp what he could have been thinking. His eyes were empty… they were actually creeping me out.   "Man, can you quit the staring? You know I don’t mind but…” He blinked a dozen times before finally jumping awake from his coma-like state. He excused himself and turned his eyes to the road. The sun was about to set, we had to arrive at that place before it was too late, I knew they were going to act once everyone was sleeping. They did that one too many times for me to forgive them, I will not let another suburb share the same fate as my favela. I received the alert from one of my companions, but he couldn’t make it to the actual action so I was in need of a couple more hands. That’s why I thought of Jamie and Mako; Junkrat and Roadhog that is: they were both friends and mercenaries, there was no reason for them to not help me if they were to be payed. A hand touched my shoulder, I looked up to find Jamie eyeing me weirdly… again.   "Yes?“   "There is something I want to tell ya, but also I don’t want to…” Usually he would make more sense, I swear he had really incredible conversations… or at least incredible attempts at flirting with me. Maybe it just wasn’t the day. I had noticed there was something wrong with him, but I didn’t want to stress him about it; now though he was just rubbing that feeling in my face and I had to ask.   "You have been acting weird today, something’s up, Jamie?“ He hesitated in his answering, his finger pointing at nothing and closing on itself soon after. He scratched the back of his head.   "I just want to get this shit done with already.”   "I wish it would just end here…" They weren’t going to stop. They were to stubborn to understand the meaning of freedom: anarchy is how they call it, disorder, madness, hypocrisy, not suited for a civilized world… I wish they would open their eyes. I am not just assuming their thoughts, during one of my tours I met a woman. She was young and elegant, a beautiful pearl of the east, her hair long and silky, her movements clean and sensual… but in her head, she was brainwashed. She rambled about a perfect world, she spoke nonsense, she believed in crazy ideals. She believed in Vishkar. I tried to convince her, but she too was just as stubborn. Her name was Satya, she told me when I met her, never thought we would come to hate each other. I had to stop Vishkar not only for my people, not only for the freedom of society, but also for people like her. I will free them from that prison of a belief.   "Did Vishkar do something to ya, mate? Y’re looking pretty angry there…" I realised only in that moment that I never told those two what happened to me, even though I had known them for roughly two years now… It was weird how quickly I grew attached to those two, they were out of their minds most of the time… well, Jamie was at least, and they couldn’t give a single care about what happened around them. I loved how they could just shrug off any restriction. I am sure that it’s also thanks to them that I am going head first in this mission of mine: reckless, but free. I must admit that meeting them had really changed me. I was scared at first, I immediately recognised the faces of the two wanted criminals when they first approached me, but somehow the situation worked itself out that night. Now I had two awesome pals I could count on in need. Them being there in that moment… it must have been a little miracle. A little one. I took a deep breath and crossed my arms while speaking.   "They did what I am trying to prevent now. Years ago, before my debut, they burned to the ground my favela just so that they could rebuild it anew according to their standards. Many of my people… my family, risked their lives, children were injured and burnt, their young faces forever scarred by the flames.“ I tightened the grip on my arm, rage and fury trying to get a hold of my brain. "I will never forgive them.” That was all I was going to tell the two, but I didn’t get the reaction I expected… actually, I didn’t really get one: Mako was quietly driving, Jamie was just staring at the horizon, his eyes wide open; he really was making me worried. He was silent for about a minute then he lowered his head.   "That sucks, frog boy.“   "But it won’t happen again.” Right as I said that, Mako stopped the engine and got off the car, Jamie and I followed soon after. At that point, I took the lead and started to scan the area by wallriding. I quietly made my way in the warehouse; no guards seemed to be on duty, weirdly enough. I returned to my companions reporting the situation.   "Maybe they’re hiding!“ Jamie laughed maniacally and grabbed his frag launcher with both hands. "Might as well flush ‘em out, am I right?” Mako held firmly his gun as he stepped forward, he said he was going to test the ground for us. After a couple minutes of searching, still no employee or guard to be seen… why would Vishkar leave a whole warehouse, the one in which they stocked their materials, completely unprotected?   "Last time it wasn’t this quiet…" I jumped on another wall and got another higher view of the area: empty. Jamie followed me with his eyes.   "Last time?“ I landed on a metal box, it was shining in little blue lights, probably used to mark its position.   "When I entered Vishkar back in Rio, there was a high level of security, guards and alarms both, but there’s nothing here.” Jamie laughed again, but it was more of a nervous giggle. He scanned the area quickly, his body twitching with every movement. Mako was keeping an eye on him too; we were both worried apparently. I jumped down back on their level and patted Jamie on the back, concern in my voice.   "You okay, man?“ He stared at me for a couple second before turning roughly and pointing towards the far back of the warehouse.   "There’s nothing here, the bombs must be in a room over there!” I skated ahead, not wanting to lose more time, but I was soon halted by a number of doors. There were sentries, finally a layer of security. Before I could say anything, I saw something flying toward the doors, quickly followed by a loud and flashy explosion: the sentries were destroyed. Jamie threw a mine at them apparently.   "Thank you!“   "No problem, let’s just end this.” He then kicked one of the doors open with no sign of doubt… he looked really aware of the layout of the place. When I spotted the incredible amount of explosive in the room we entered I almost fell to the ground. Vishkar was ill.  While I was lost in my hate, Jamie and Mako just walked to the bombs and started messing with them… only in that moment I noticed something, something I wish I hadn’t. I grabbed one of the bombs and looked at it with care. There was a smiling face on them, one I can easily recognise.   "Jamie…"   "I’ll be done in a sec, mate.“ I was already mad enough, my face was unable to show any kind of emotion in that moment and my chest felt cold. I gripped the bomb, grinding my teeth in anger. I shouldn’t have shouted, they were trying to help me. I shouldn’t have attacked them, they had changed their mind. But what kind of miracle would stab you in the back?

Chapter 8  

Of course I could not have won the fight, of course I had fainted, of course they had finally managed to kidnap me after all that time. I was in the back of the car, I wasn’t tied up or anything… I was their friend after all. Junkrat was not sitting next to me, he was in the front seat, driving as fast as he could, I heard him shouting at nothing, his temper so short he would have exploded… more than usual. But I had no words to calm him down, I had no intention of speaking on friendly terms with them. I was really foolish, wasn’t I? They were taking me God knows where, their chatting drilling in my ears, I turned on my gear, at least I could listen to some music, I told myself. Music was great, always there for me… she couldn’t disappoint me. She was not a so-called miracle. She was all I had in that moment, all I wanted. I closed my eyes, drowning myself in that dream. I saw my family, they were dancing and cheering, the children playing together, the elders quietly enjoying the view of the starry sky as the tune I played embraced them. How could that be considered uncivilized? How could you take it away from us? With what heart can you burn a child away from his freedom? I snapped and punched the car door, making a loud noise that caught the attention of the two junkers. They stared at me, Jamie opened his mouth to say something, but he turned and focused back on driving. I was sending rage and betrayal out of my eyes, my lips sealed: they were not going to hear anything from me. Mako spoke in his heavy voice.   "We are taking you back to your hotel.” They weren’t kidnapping me? My brain could not process the though in that moment and I just considered that information as a pure lie. Have I already said that I was acting foolishly? I would have slapped myself if I could have.   "As if.“ Mako held my stare, not letting my anger get to him. He looked at me from safely behind his mask, I could barely see his eyes.   "Trust us.” I was about to snap again, but Jamie took care of the answer for me.   "Trust us?! After that d’you think he’d be such an idiot as to trust us with anything ever again?!“ His voice sounded both hurt and furious, he was eating on his own words; I could not see his face, but I was sure his eyes were firing and burning what he was facing.   "He’s not stupid.”   "That’s why he won’t have anything to do with us anymore!“   "He’ll understand soon.”   "Y’re not making any sense, mate!“ Jamie finally turned to the other man and what I saw actually made something in me break a bit. His eyes were distant, foggy and… watery. They were so full of different emotions, more than I had predicted. Had I caused that? I hoped from the bottom of my being that I hadn’t. When he turned completely to me, in that fraction of a second I saw that my hopes were just illusions; it was indeed my fault.   "Junkr-…” I halted midway, not wanting to distance myself any further. “Jamie, it’s cool.” Everything went quiet after that. Jamie back to driving, Mako back to facing the road. I was left alone, boiling in my anger as it should have been. I wanted to forgive them, maybe they didn’t know what they were doing; just delivering some bombs, they were just doing what they were payed for. Maybe they didn’t know what Vishkar wanted to do with the explosives. Maybe they did it because they carved that money… I was trying my best to justify their actions, deep inside, under the first layer of fury, the second of disappointment and the third of murderous intent, I wanted to believe in them, I wanted to believe in the sparkling eyes Jamie looked up to me with, in the quiet support of Mako… I took a deep breath, I closed my eyes and I fell asleep, lulled by the soft music in my ears.

I woke up later, a hand gently shaking me, cold metal against my skin. Jamie was looking at my sleeping face, his features not showing any particular emotion. I stood up, but I still had nothing to say to him, a heavy knot in my throat stopped my words from coming out. It was painful, looking at him as he hoped for a smile… I wish I had smiled back then. However I only got off the car, stretching my muscles. He stared at me, his big orbs never letting go of my body… I had known it for a long time, it really was hard to miss; what he felt about me I mean. I was flattered that such a particular person had found an interest in me, but in that moment I could not appreciate his staring at all. My mind was too confused and foggy, too many perspectives were trying to make their way into my subconscious, I had to shut something out. That something so happened to be my feelings for him. That was such a bad decision to take, I blame myself.   "Wanna drink something?“ Jamie offered me the tea he always had on himself, I sighed and faced him; a death stare he could not stand. "Sorry about that, Lú…” He sat on the ground, his hands covering his ears and grabbing violently his hair. I wanted to sit next to him.

  "Can I know the reason? Why did you give all that explosive to Vishkar?“   "It was just a job! They offered us bucks we needed, they only said they wanted to rebuild buildings in the city!” He answered as fast as he could, a desperate tone in his voice. I wanted to forgive him.   "Well, they were not lying, but they were going to burn down people too!“   "That I couldn’t have known!” I took a step towards him, using the temporary height advantage to make my point clear.   "Vishkar is mad, everyone can see that Jamie!“   "If you had told me sooner I wouldn’t have helped them!” He didn’t know. It wasn’t his fault. Vishkar from the eyes of an outsider could look like the best corporation in the world. Why would anyone in their right mind think that they’d light-heartedly blow up houses with people in them?   "Why didn’t you tell me you delivered them the explosives then?!“   "Because I decided I was going to get rid of ‘em anyway! I was going to throw away days of hard work because you asked for it, frog boy!” I was at fault. I had no right to be angry at him. He changed his mind. I had to take a step down, put my pride to the side. Sit down. Apologise. I sat down next to him, my eyes to the ground. Why were my feelings so hard to reach? I knew where they were: they held my heart in place, it couldn’t beat freely, they wouldn’t come out. When I looked at Jamie, I saw that he had managed to get out what I could not. His eyes were so… He was so unpredictable, you would think he wasn’t serious in his apology, that he was just a random bomber, a mercenary, a crazy psychopath, a pyro… he was all of that, but he was human too. He did feel pain when injured, he did feel sorrow when hurt, he did feel despair when helpless. I did see regret in his distant cold eyes, those same eyes he used to stare at me in awe with. I wanted them to regain that spark of life; I wanted the crazy bomber to scream and laugh out loud again, a proud smirk plastered on his face. Time can heal all wounds, but I was not going to wait. Something else could cure, something even more effective than time. I just pulled my portable console out of my bag, connected it to the backpack and turned it on. Jamie tried to say something, but I stopped him.   "It’s cool, let’s just calm down now.“ I started to mix the tracks I had saved, low keys and slow tunes… that was a way to say sorry, right? Jamie was sitting next to me, checking both my hands and my expression as they both turned calmer and calmer as the song played on. He was smiling a bit, I took a glance of that. I was grateful for that smile. I too tried to draw one on my face, I probably failed though.

Chapter 9  

Jamie was looking at me intently, so intently it was almost embarrassing. It wasn’t though, I appreciated each of his glances… I loved his attentions. Because of my awful mood I had forgotten how good it felt to be stared by those eyes. I slid closer to him, our arms touching, his cold metal sending shivers over my naked arm. What was I mad about again? I just wanted to forget at that point… I closed my eyes and leaned over, my head on his shoulder; the console playing music by itself…   "I don’t want to hate you, Jamie.” He stayed silent, only his breath could be heard in the darkness. It was a peaceful rhythm to follow, the bass of his heartbeat slowly growing stronger. He rested his head on mine, a sigh escaping his lips. My hand looking for his and finding it on his knee. I gently forced my fingers to intertwine with his.   "It would be nice if you didn't…" Nice… a pretty cold word just like his hand, freezing metal, but his forehead was warm, his chest a pleasant cosiness embracing me. Just a little longer, just the two of us. No Vishkar, no bombs, no fires, no world. Just us… I loved it. That small miracle… I begged to believe in it.   "I want to love you, Jamie.“ He snuggled closer after a few seconds, his hand now holding mine. His voice cracked as he spoke, I could not picture what kind of expression he was wearing.   "Think ya can manage that after all this shit?” I nodded and opened my eyes, slightly worried about his hurt voice. I could see myself in his teary eyes, his mouth turned into a sad sulk, he was trying his best to keep his cool for me. There was no need. I should have checked on him sooner though. I caressed his cheek and smiled, softly and gently; I was there for him to see, smiling, just the way he was used to see me. I stroke his hair as I ran my free arm around his neck.   "Shit happens.“ And shit happened, but it was good shit.

Chapter 10  

That morning… yeah, probably the only lingering question was a really confused…   "How?!” How did that happen?! Why did that happen?! “'Hog, how?!”   "You are naked.“   "That’s not the point, you fat drongo!” It took me a while to pick up that question, I had almost finished my breakfast when I remembered what happened… what happened… I smashed my head on the table again and again, trying to beat myself awake from that dream. When did we even get into that expensive-looking hotel room?! Why was 'Hog bogging in some expensive-looking pastries?!   "Where is the frog?!“ The big guy pointed at a door far in the back of the large living room. I ran towards it, ready to slam it open, but I remembered at the last moment what could have expected me behind that door: either a dream from the past night or… a really messy empty bed… I begged for it to be the first one, I didn’t want it to be just an illusion again. It had already happened, okay? Got something to say? Better not, I’ll make you blow up, I swear. Jamison calm your shit and open that door! I grabbed the knob and slowly walked into the room. He was there. Snooring and drooling like the princess he was. He was there. I held my breath for a moment and sat on the bed myself. I wondered and wondered, thought and thought, but I could find no answer to the stream of fucking questions. Jamison, you cunt, how did that happen?! I didn’t know then, I don’t know now, what the hell happened?! He yawned. Piece of junk. That was adorable.   "Good morning.” Send help, that was all I could think about. Wish him a good morning too? That was a great idea!   "G'day.“ I cracked a smile, it was so nervous my cheeks were hurting like hell. His on the other hand… he opened his eyes slowly at first, a chuckle escaped his soft lips when he saw my face.   "Still a bit embarassed, aren’t we?” I wanted to kiss the shit out of him. I could not bring myself to speak, he was just too handsome. Lúcio sat up and opened his arms, the sheet sliding off his figure to reveal his dark skin. He beckoned me to hug him, his head tilting to the side. Was I allowed to?! I got closer but didn’t dare to… he took me by surprise when he just launched himself in my arms, snuggling his face in my neck. I was stiff… so stiff…

 “It’s a shame, but you two should leave the hotel…” After getting dressed, that was not the first topic I wanted to cover, but frog boy was right. We really needed to get out of that place.   "Gotcha, we’ll get out in a second.“   "I’m telling this for your sake, people might recognise you in here…” He was pouting, as if he thought we had been offended by his consideration. I smiled at him.   "If they do, we might as well just kidnap you, right?“ I still wanted to kidnap him, at that time more than ever. I didn’t want to leave Lúcio’s side yet.   "Too clichè at this point, don’t you think?”   "Yeah, poor 'Hog over there would just throw me another one on the head if I tried to.“ We both laughed it off as I picked up my stuff, packed it into my bag and threw it from the window and on the car below. Roadie said he was going on ahead and said goodbye to Lúcio with a powerful handshake before slowly taking the outdoor stairs to the ground floor. I stood in the living room for a bit, bludging. Frog boy finally walked up to me, his hand travelling high to my neck, asking me to bend for him, which I gladly did. His lips on mine felt just so right, I wanted more again. He pinched my nose when he understood my intentions when I forced the kiss. But I didn’t want to let go yet, I wanted him close to me… my small sunshine… my adorable frog…   "Call me, ‘kay?” He kissed the tip of my nose, stroking my face. “I’ll be waiting.”   "I don’t want to wait.“   "We’ll both have to.” I kissed him that time around, I couldn’t help it. Just a quick peck, just to… make sure he still wanted me to. He did, he smiled again. That precious smile.

It’s been a while now, back to the crime-sprees, just me and old 'Hog… fells good, mate. The world knows our names, we are wanted by so many people: we are just like superstars! We are so cool that we always have bucks in our wallets, foods in our stomachs, bombs in our hands and first-row in concerts granted for life. What a great life we are living! Maybe the running from the cops part is not that great, especially if they interrupt the concert to smoke you out… I hate it when they do it, I just want to enjoy some music! I always have to get up from my seat, guzzle my tea and start running.

A hero association we thought was done for actually contacted us once. They asked us to join: the world could always use more heroes! We are crazy criminals, don’t even joke about that, girl. Someone else did join though… he, a dj, a freedom fighter and now a “hero"… well, I had to see it coming. He was just too suited for a role like that, he was born to be a hero. Or was he?

I love his music, even if when I do go all the way to watch him perform, that’s when the police finds me… still, not sure who is following who at this point, we just bump into each other, like magnets, every land we go he’s there for us, every place we run to, he has already a date planned. We can’t stay much together when we meet, but it’s fine, he’s just a call away. He’s a tune away, he’s a nothing away.

Good job on surviving until the end, you earned yourself a cookie <3

Remember that I am still not a native English speaker so I have limits.