team bass

Honestly The Curse of the Colonel is one of my favorite Japanese urban legends…

Basically the Hanshin Tigers baseball team had a major victory in 1985 and fans went WILD and stood on a bridge chanting the player’s names, and every time they said a name a fan that resembled the player whose name was said would jump into the canal

BUT there was an american player on the team named Randy Bass and the crowd wanted to include someone who looked like him too, but there were no white people around so they snatched a Colonel Sanders statue and tossed it into the water as an effigy

after this the Hanshin Tigers won nothing for 18 years! The rumor began to circulate that throwing the statue into the canal had angered Colonel Sanders and he had cursed them and wouldn’t allow them to win until they retrieved the statue. Obviously many attempts were made to find it, but no one was successful.

In 2009 the uper body, lower body, and right hand of the statue were found when police thought it was a dead body, but the left hand and his glasses are missing and the Hanshin Tigers still have not won anything. It is said they will continue to lose until they find the last pieces. Here’s the colonel though!

Hyper Projection Engeki Haikyuu - Karasuno, Revival!

Opening Sequence

Please do not repost 

ID #77818

Name: Lauren
Age: 16
Country: USA

Hi, I’m Lauren! I’m from the midwestern United States, and going to be in my third year of high school this fall. I’m a massive nerd for anything involving history, geography, and languages. I only speak English fluently, but I’m working on my Spanish and dabbling in German and Korean.
I’m on the speech and debate team at my school and I’m very passionate about it, which has fed into a fascination with all things politics, philosophy, and international relations. I love to write, so chances are if we’re pen pals I’ll probably rant to you about my characters and plot lines a lil bit, and I also love reading so it’d be great to have someone to talk about books with. (Favorite book I’ve read recently was The Kite Runner, but for all time favorite, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban is still the closest to my heart) Despite all the time I spend online, I love being outside and going for walks in my neighborhood creek, and I can’t wait until I’m out of high school and have the chance to travel.
As far as music goes, I’m super into theatre, so a lot of what I listen to is showtunes, but I really enjoy almost everything, with my favorites probably being alternative and jazz. I also play both standup and electric bass.
I really want to meet someone on here that shares some of my interests and I can talk to about anything, whether it be funny or serious. We’d have to start off on email because postage can be expensive depending on location, but it would be cool to eventually send snail mail.

Preferences: Agewise, probably between 14 and 19, but I’m interested in meeting anyone who thinks we’d click!

Hello Detective Chapter 53 (Sherlock Imagine)

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14   Part 15   Part 16   Part 17   Part 18   Part 19   Part 20   Part 21   Part 22   Part 23   Part 24   Part 25   Part 26  Part 27  Part 28  Part 29 Part 30  Part 31  Part 32  Part 33   Part 34   Part 35   Part 36   Part 37   Part 38   Part 39   Part 40      Part 41   Part 42   Part 43   Part 44   Part 45   Part 46   Part 47   Part 48   Part 49  Part 50   Part 51  Part 52  Part 53   Part 54  Part 55   Part 56  Part 57 Part 58 Part 59 Part 60 Part 61

You hit rock bottom. You tried to still write to Sherlock, but your letters got darker and darker. You had returned to your apartment, spent some time on your own. Alone is what you have, alone protects you.

Ms. Hudson had come to visit you, so did John, and Lestrade, Molly, and even Anderson.

You were bad after that. You began drinking to numb the pain, living recklessly, because you didn’t care what happened to you now. You had lost count of how many times you had been cut off at bars and kicked out.

One night after final call, you were roaming the streets and ended up at a doss-house.

“What do you want?” The man at the door asked in a thick accent.

“What you’re selling.” You held up a wad of cash, and he opened the door quickly.

“Bill Wiggins at your service. Cup of tea? Or coffee?” He asked pointing to the different drugs scattering the room.

“What do you recommend?” You asked.

“For you, the tea. It’s your first time I’m assuming and you want to forget someone. A 7% solution should take care of that for the time being.” Wiggins said.

“I think we’ll make fast friends Wiggins.” You smiled a dark, empty smile.

Mycroft wasn’t happy after he found you back at your flat. He seemed all too used to this routine.

“You need to stop throwing your life away! You need to move on!” Mycroft yelled.

“I am moved on and I’m doing just fine!” You yelled back, still high.

“This isn’t fine Y/N! I expect this from Sherlock, but not from you!” He screamed.

“I think we can stop expecting anything from Sherlock because he’s dead! Our baby is dead! And I’m fine!” You fell back onto the couch. You knew what you had done had crossed the line, but you didn’t regret it.

“This was a cry for help. I won’t lose you to this, you’re too bright for this. Your mind is needed for something greater. You need to go back to work, and the offer still stand to work with me, but only if you are clean and sober.” He said.

“I don’t want to be in London.” You argued.

“I thought you said London was your home.” He scoffed.

“Home hurts.” You answered quietly.

“What about MI6. You have the skillset, you would have to do some training but nothing you couldn’t handle. It would take you out of London. Normally I wouldn’t have suggested something like this for you, but I think you might be what they’re looking for right now, especially after their last double-0 was forced into retirement.” Mycroft explained, and you accepted.

You sobered up, and got to work.

••••••••••

Gareth Mallory, also known as M, had called you into his office a few weeks after beginning your training. You were excelling at an unprecedented rate, and he felt you were ready to be sent out into the field. Technically you weren’t a double-0 yet, that took two confirmed kills, two kills that you didn’t have.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You asked, entering his office.

“Yes, Gregson, please have a seat.” He pointed to the chair in front of him. He laid a file across from you and your eyes grew wide at who it was, and how long the list was of people he was working for.

“I believe you’re familiar with Ryan Spencer.” M said.

“Um, yes sir, he’s my uncle.” You said, hesitantly.

“He’s been selling CIA, MI6, and FSB secrets, so naturally he needs to be taken care of. We have the name of his contact, so he will have to be taken care of aswell.” M said.

“And you want me to kill them?” You asked.

“That won’t be a problem will it?” M asked.

“No sir, not at all.” You said, and it wasn’t a problem. Ever since Sherlock died, you had been different. Cold, calculating, and ready to kill. Conscience? Gone. Sentiment? Gone.

“Good. Mycroft Holmes seems to think you’re ready, but I’m not convinced. You understand if this mission goes well you will have the two kills necessary to obtain double-0 status.” M said.

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” You nodded.

“Good.” He handed you the file and you left his office.

You read through the file, last spotted in Prague. Seem’s like a good enough place to start. That had to be lowered down, let’s start with the contact.

Took you less than two days to find him. Conveniently he was in Prague too, lucky you. Guess who also spoke Czech, this mission was just being handed to you on a silver platter.

You had followed him into a hotel, you sat in the lobby, a newspaper opened in front of you. You waited for him to come down the stairs, and as he did he turned left into the water closet. You stood slowly and slipped into the room unnoticed, and locked the door behind you.

“Wrong toilet.” He said, when he noticed you.

“No, I don’t think so.” You said, pulling out your gun, and he pulled his own. You kicked it out of his hand, and your fist collided with his face.

“Where is Spencer?” You asked, as he bled.

“I’ll die before I tell you.” He said.

“That can be arranged.” You smiled, and he lunged at you, slamming you against the wall, your gun falling to the floor. You kneed him in the groin, and threw him into the porcelain sink. It shattered, and you turned the water on of the sink next to it.  

His elbow rammed into your stomach, you groaned in pain. You slammed his face into the mirror, shattering it, before holding it into the now flooding sink. He struggled for a moment while you held his head down, before falling limp.

You walked across the now destroyed room to grab your gun, and as you turned around the contact suddenly reached for his gun on the floor, clearly not dead yet. But you were quicker, you fired into his head before he had a chance.

Based on Ryan’s file he had an office here in Prague, that seemed the next reasonable place to check. You broke in there effortlessly, once inside his office you found a safe hidden in the wall with more money than a man like Ryan should have, M was telling the truth. You heard the door unlock and you sat casually in a chair in the dark corner of the room.

He walked over to his desk and looked to the open safe.

“M really doesn’t mind you earning a little money on the side, Ryan.” Your voice filled the darkness and he turned around surprised, knowing exactly who the voice belonged to. “He’d just prefer it if it wasn’t selling secrets.”

He sat down at his desk, his eyes not leaving yours, and you noticed him pull open a drawer, though you’d already taken care of that.

“If the theatrics are supposed to scare me, you have the wrong man, Y/N/N.” Your eyes narrowed at the sound of that nickname. “If M was so sure that I was bent, he’d have sent a double-0. Benefits of knowing all the secrets, I’d know if anyone had been promoted to double-0 status, wouldn’t I. Your file shows no kills, I’ve told you before you don’t have it in you, it takes–”

“Two.” You cut him off. Jesus, who wasn’t this man working for. He suddenly pulled his gun on you and you remained unphased, a dead smile still present on your lips.

“Shame. After your little boyfriend died I thought I would finally have you to myself.” He said, before pulling the trigger. He looked surprised when nothing came out of the barrel.

“I know where you keep your gun, uncle dear. I’m not the scared little girl you used to take exception to.” You said, holding up the magazine you had extracted from the gun in his desk before he entered the room.

“How did he die?” He asked, and you thought back to the man you had just killed.

“Your contact?” He nodded, you smirked. “Not well.”

“Made you feel it did he? I’m surprised you had it in you. Well, you shouldn’t worry the second is–” You cut him off by raising your gun and firing, the force of the bullet sending him backwards.

“Yes. Considerably.” You said, placing the gun back in your coat.

The next day, you returned to London, a double-0 with two kills under your belt. You stood in M’s office, needless to say he was extremely proud and pleasantly surprised by your abilities.

“Congratulations Gregson, or should I say 009. For your first assignment you will be teaming with 007, Charles Bass.” M spoke, and you turned to see a man leaning against the doorframe. “Q will brief you, he’s waiting in the lab.”

You walked towards the door, and Bass followed you once you had brushed passed him.

“So, how does Sherlock Holmes’ girlfriend end up in MI6?” He asked as he caught up to you. You took one glance at him before speaking.

“How does an orphan get put through Oxford and end up in MI6?” You returned, and he looked at you in shock.

“How did you know that?” He asked.

“Simple deduction.” You continued walking.

“Okay so you’re smart, but are you physically capable to do this?” He asked and you rolled your eyes, and held up his watch that you had snagged when you brushed past him in the doorway.

“Jesus, you’re good.” He grabbed it back. “What about weapons?”

“Would I be here if I wasn’t fully capable? I’m more worried that you didn’t notice your watch was gone.” You smirked to him. He laughed.

“I think we’ll get along splendidly.”

————————————–

Tag list Hello Detective : @missmotherhen @castielgirl21 @awclintno @getmaximoffmyblog @haeminhee @cherryarchangel @foureyedsiopao @presidentmaggie @batgurl32467 @kumpmk @thegalaxybabyz @smol-flower-kiddo @captain-sherlockomg @unicornlaz

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