#me: i will do all of these tech smart things to try and fix it

[maybeafrog-blog]

In Defense of Donnie's Gifts

I'm ngl I sorta think the shock collar was still just an odd writing decision but as far as PREMISE:

It CANNOT be a coincidence that this is the first time (and one of VERY few times) that Donnie's soft shell is referenced. Once, when Raph is hesitating to tell Donnie his gifts suck ass, and he uses the soft shell metaphor, and after that with Meat Sweats and his paprika, describing it as not just soft, but delicate. Weird, but he is a cannibal, so. (Side note, Meat Sweats never removed his battle shell? How does he know? Or did he take it off and replace it after the pound of butter? Is he using it to facilitate steaming and tenderness? Is it broken? I feel like it should have something in there that could break him out of the sausage links)

Then in that last little scene- "Forget it. You guys are great the way you are!" - we get the shot of Donnie from behind pre group hug, with his brothers facing the camera. (Idk if I'm making shit up, but I feel like this is a staple for Donnie episodes? It def happens in the Purple Game, maybe Smart Lair.) The framing draws attention to his battle shell. The battle shell even kinda matches the gifts, compared to the rest of their gear and even Donnie's tech, color coded and way more streamlined than stuff like the tech bo.

Donnie's soft shell is an innate, unchangeable part of him, a feature of his species, that he treats as a handicap. Probably MORE unchangeable than the character traits he sees as holding his brothers back, which they do sorta... not mature out of, but refine, rather, over the course of the show. Donnie's shell can't experience a character arc, but he sees it as holding him back. So he FIXES it.

The Mad Dogs don't really have a motivation for beating stuff up besides "Hero Time!!!" at this point. That's why it's so interesting how EARLY this happens, unlike with Mind Meld, he isn't trying to change his brothers to make them better at a task that he actually CARES about. Donnie in particular never gets a super intense moral compass besides stuff that threatens people he already cares about, and he doesn't have any grudges (no Purple Dragons) at this point in the series. Hero Goals are largely devices for him to hang out with his dum dum brothers. I'm not diagnosed or anything but my vibes are certainly... Spectrum-Adjacent, I definitely have trouble with literal thinking and reading people. One thing that happens sometimes is people will be using "task" as "reason to hang," and I will get a lot more fixated on completing said task than I really should, to the point of annoying people. I confuse "Successful Task Completion" with "Successful Social Interaction." It makes me come across as bossy and controlling without realizing it.

So, we got a Donnie who thinks Arbitrary Goals are essential to Hero Bonding, who has been treating his life like an mmorpg - armor upgrades, skill trees, grinding, sometimes fighting through random dungeons to hang out with his bros. He's probably even slightly better at Fighting Stuff than his brothers atp, he isn't dealing with a mystic learning curve and his special interest has been Weapons of Mild Destruction for years already. His brothers want to level up, take harder missions, he tries to get them there with his access to High Level Loot.

Of course, his brothers are all min-maxing, not trying to multiclass their purple ass out of squishy glass cannon town. So, it doesn't go well. Unfortunately, the lesson Donnie learns (besides brotherly affection) is that his brothers don't NEED fixing like he does. Mind Meld and Donnie vs. Witch Town sorta finish this arc out as best as the series can.

Where I would have liked to see this go:

A S2 Donnie's Gifts or Mind Meld style episode (Donnie tries to improve his brothers, to their dismay) where the motivator isn't goal completion, but protectiveness. We see a bit of the fear in Purple Game, a bit of the contingency planning with the escape pods in the movie. Maybe a more upfront "training montage" type scenario, a high tech robo dojo to develop their mad skills, or just a tense moment after a skin of their teeth Genius Built rescue.

The brothers confront Donnie eventually-- not just the passive conflict resolution of Donnie's Gifts. They get mad. Push Donnie to the point he's at in Turtle-Dega Nights. They get a rant about not wanting them to get hurt, of course, but also that he's already done so much to FIX himself, make sure he's not a LIABILITY, why can't they at least try to stay SAFE? The dangers are real now, and as far as Donnie knows he REALLY can't do anything about threats like the Shredder. His tech did nothing the first time. His brothers are the ones with the mystic mojo, and they don't even realize how SERIOUS things could get.

Anyway. Protective Donatello my Beloved. Let my boy go apeshit.

//I REALLY Like the 2003 episode where Leo is hurt and Donnie is fucking PISSED at Usagi. All Donnies should be allowed to enter a feral protective rage, as a treat.

//If anyone knows of any Purple Game Aftermath fics lmk. Like, going home, getting donnie out of the evil gamer chair, guilt, whatever. or just good Purple Dragons being Assholes content.

[revelboo]

Ohhh, I really hope Earthspark Soundwave is able to fix Rumble :(

Yeah… that story Bee started to tell… no thank you to that

Son Of A Gun Pt 5

Earthspark Soundwave x Reader

• Can still hear you sniffling as he works, but otherwise, you’re thankfully quiet. Making him very aware of every single time his cassettes poke their heads into the room to check on you like you’re a younger sibling they’re worried about and it’s absolutely infuriating. By the third time, he just shuts the door and reaches to snag you by the back of your shirt to drag you closer. “Stop brainwashing them,” he snarls and you glare up at him, eyes red.

• What? “I’m not doing anything. I don’t even want to be here,” you immediately counter, teeth gritting when he pushes you down flat on your back, servos caging you so he can lean over you, growling. Making you wonder if he’s finally had enough of you. Because you can’t not smart off even to save your own life apparently. Face far too close to yours, he vents to stir your hair then shoves away from the table you’re on. Scowling as he paces, servos clenching and unclenching, you roll to your feet and study his project. “You really need to work on your anger issues. No wonder your kids like me better.”

• It’s like you just can’t help yourself. Maybe you don’t have any self preservation instincts whatsoever. Threatening to knock you down with a raised hand sends you scurrying out of reach. “You’re just a pet,” he growls, grabbing a tool and getting back to work on the frustratingly little parts. Because the only tech readily available to him to cannibalize is human tech. And you wander closer again, leaning to look at what he’s working on. Glancing up at him when he loses a part inside the converter and turns it upside down trying to shake it back out.

• “You want me to get it for you?” Because as funny as watching big daddy get pissed trying to get whatever little doohickey he just dropped is, appearing useful can only help your survival chances. And that glare turns your way again. Holding up your hands, you wiggle your fingers. “It won’t kill you to ask for help.” You’re almost positive that he’s about to knock you on your butt again, but instead, he very carefully sets the thing down to gesture at it. Skin prickling as you have to turn your back on him, you figure out where the part is and squirm your arm inside it all the way to the elbow to dig it out.

• Wants to hate you even more as you smile triumphantly up at him. Wants to flick you off the table. Oops, no more pet. Instead, he points at where the part goes. Arching your brows at him, you screw it into place. Well. Maybe he has some use for you after all. At least until you no longer serve a purpose. Turning, he carries over the rest of the parts. “This goes next,” he grumbles, nudging the next piece your way. If you expect to be thanked, you’re going to have to wait a very long time. You don’t complain, though. Just pick up the part and attach it where he indicates. Helping him replace you without even realizing it.

Previous

Next

[witchygagirlwrites]

What I Want

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader

"I could spend the rest of my life kissing you, and it still wouldn't be enough." @desimarie12

Relationships didn’t work for you. One bad one after another proved that. You couldn’t handle any more heartache. You finally got to a point where you didn’t care that you were alone.You were in a good place career wise, you could go out with friends if you wanted. Why did you need a relationship?

You hadn’t expected someone to find you. You damn sure hadn’t expected that someone to be Jay’s old army buddy. You’d met Greg “Mouse” Gerwitz once before, when he’d been a C.I.

He was nice, kinda cute but that was that. When the task of a tech person came open Jay brought him up to Voight and it was decided he’d be hired. You didn’t think anything of it. He was Jay’s friend and going to be a member of your unit, you’d be friends with him.

You didn’t expect him to be so damn smart. He saw patterns in computer systems you never would’ve dreamed of and started picking up things from crime scenes easily before you ever saw them. 

You hadn’t expected him to be so damn sweet. When all of you responded to a bombing he took the time to check on you, Erin and Kim specifically before the guys and at first you took it personally thinking maybe it was because you were women and he thought you were weaker or something but when you’d let your mouth do that thing where it allowed thought to come out unfiltered he’d just smiled at you and said “No ma’am. I know women try to hold too much on themselves is why I checked on you three first”

You hadn’t expected him to be so damn selfless. The day you finally realized you were starting to fall for him was when he let a man hold a gun to his head for the better part of a day just so that man could get answers about his missing daughter. The reason you say let? When swat was finally going in you saw Jay give him the barest of nods and he easily took the gun from the man and reversed the situation when you heard Jay ask him “What took you so long?” and him say “I believed him” you knew Greg Gerwitz was going to be the person to break down the carefully built walls around your heart.

“Hey” you heard Mouse before he tapped on your desk so you cut your eyes up with a small smile “Hey” he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck which you knew was a bit of a nervous thing for him “Did I do something?” “Huh?” you asked because you were honestly confused by the question. You hadn’t even spoken to him in like 2 days.

He shrugged “You drank a beer with me and Jay after everything with Frazier but since then you go the opposite way. If I did something just tell me and I promise I’ll fix it” you felt your heart crumple a little at how hurt he sounded. “No Greg, you didn’t do anything. I’ve just um been busy” a small smile slipped onto his face when you called him Greg. 

You’d originally called him Mouse like everyone else but one day he’d done something that had annoyed you so you’d playfully said “Dammit Greg behave!” and he’d frozen in his tracks then the most gorgeous smile had split his face before he told you how much he loved hearing you say his actual name.

He nodded “Well this case is wrapped so you wanna do something tonight? Jay’s gonna be with Lindsay but we can catch a movie or something” you nodded “Ok, um wanna just do takeout and a movie?” it wasn’t the first time you two had gotten takeout to one of your places and watched a movie so maybe it would be fine. He smiled “Sounds good. Your place around eight? I’ll bring the food?” you smiled “I’ll see you then”

__________

It was fine. It was just two friends hanging out, no big deal. Right? You were sitting on one of your couch with your feet curled up under you, trying to concentrate on the movie but your attention was more on him considering he’d stripped his hoodie and was wearing a tight white shirt under it.

Mouse wasn’t bulky but the man was all lean muscle. You couldn’t tell anyone any color of anything. What the hell were you gonna do? 

He laughed all of a sudden and you nearly jumped off the couch “What’s so funny?” he turned on the couch to face you “Why are you staring at me?” you felt yourself warm “I wasn’t” he gave you a look that clearly said do not bullshit me.

You shrugged “You’re a good looking guy Greg” his eyes widened “Oh yeah” you nodded “Duh. Gorgeous, blue eyes, smart as hell, army ranger. Who the hell wouldn’t be attracted to you..oh my god what is my mouth doing?” you covered your face with both hands, willing the ground to open up and swallow you when you realized what all you just said.

The couch moved under his weight before you felt his hands on yours “Darlin, let me see you” you slowly lowered your hands and he gave you a small smile “Are you attracted to me?” you nodded slowly “I um..yeah..I..I care about you Greg..a lot”

A smile slowly crawled across his face “Good, because I care about you too..a lot” “Really?” you asked and he nodded “Really” before one of his hands cupped your face. His eyes moved from yours down to your lips and you finally laughed “Just kiss me!”

“Yes ma’am” he replied before leaning closer. He brushed his lips against yours in a kiss that was gentle but firm, teasing and tasting. Your hands went to his shoulder, gripping them tightly as a light moan slipped from your lips. His other hand went to your hip, tugging you closer. You were practically in his lap when he broke away from the kiss, forehead pressed against yours “I could spend the rest of my life kissing you, and it still wouldn't be enough” 

You felt your heart flip at his words “Then find me in the next life and spend that one kissing me too” he gave you one of those smiles that you would do anything to keep on his face before saying “I think I’m already halfway in love with you” before pulling you back in for another kiss. You laughed against his mouth then pulled back, grinning when he chased your lips “Just so you know, I’m fairly certain I’m halfway in love with you too” 

He laughed lightly then grabbed you to pulled you over into his lap “You mine now?” he asked and you nodded “You mine?” he grinned “For as long as you’ll have me”

[whosscruffylooking]

Open Arms Chapter Eight

steve harrington x fem!reader Open Arms Masterlist word count: 4.5k a/n: so sorry it's taken me so long to update this. Warnings: Canon typical violence. Mentions of kidnapping. Rewrite/Character Insert of Stranger Things ~1985~

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“Alright, what is it, Harrington?” Robin leans casually on the counter, the cheerful jingle of Scoops Ahoy far too chipper for Steve’s mood.

“Nothing,” he mutters, eyes glued to the counter.

“Oh, come on,” she groans. “You’re practically brooding. Spill it.”

“I… I—” Steve runs a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “I saw some stuff at Y/N’s place, and it made me realize… a few things.”

“Like what? Did you find her secret stash of Playgirl?” Robin teases, her grin wide.

Steve’s head jerks up, his eyes wide. “Wait, does she read those?”

“No, Steve, she doesn’t,” Robin sighs dramatically. “For some reason, you’re the only male who can even remotely make her look twice.”

Steve stares at her, still puzzled, but his expression changes. “Well, I found these flyers… college flyers. All from out of state. Big schools. Places where people actually go somewhere.” He sighs, but it’s a hollow sound. “And here I am, a guy who couldn’t even get into Tech. I’m just… holding her back.”

Robin hops up onto the counter beside him, her feet swinging. “Okay, first of all, you’re not holding her back. She’s not a kite, Steve. She’s a person with her own life and her own goals. If she wants to go, she’s gonna go.”

Steve shakes his head, slumping a little. “Yeah, that’s the point. She will go, and I’ll just be… here. Slinging ice cream and pretending like I’ve got this ‘charming burnout’ thing under control. She’s got a future, Rob. A real one. Not like this.”

Robin tilts her head, studying him carefully. “You’re each other’s future, Steve. Do you really think she’d just forget about that?”

He exhales like he’s trying to push the words out before they can choke him. “I don’t know why she’d see me as that. Not with everything she could have.”

Robin crosses her arms, but there’s a gentleness in her expression now. “Because you’re Steve Harrington. And somehow, despite all odds, you managed to land a girl who’s smart enough to know exactly what you’re worth.”

He lets out a scoff, but Robin’s not done yet.

“You’re not just some guy handing out waffle cones. You’re the guy who drives across town at midnight when her car dies in the rain. You’re the guy who memorizes her favorite records so you can surprise her. You’re the guy who—” Robin pauses, her voice turning a little softer, “—makes her happier than I’ve ever seen her.”

Steve stares at some distant point, his gaze fixed on nothing. “She deserves more than this. She’ll find it. She’ll find someone who can actually meet her where she’s going in life, and realize I’m just… not it.”

Robin’s hand lands on his arm, steadying him with unexpected compassion. “Hey.” She leans in a little, her voice gentler but firm. “She loves you. And if you love her—which, trust me, you do—then you don’t get to decide you’re not good enough for her. That’s her call. And guess what? She’s already made it.”

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You stayed up all night, your thoughts a whirlwind of how to fix things with Steve. It’s your day off, and you’re determined to make things right. So, when the phone rings, you’re ready for something to break the cycle of self-doubt. It’s Dustin on the other end, fresh back from summer camp and brimming with energy.

“I’m back!” he exclaims the excitement in his voice like a spark of light in the fog of your thoughts.

The idea hits you in an instant. You’ll pick up Dustin, drive him to the mall, and surprise Steve. The ultimate peace offering. A plan that, with Dustin’s unpredictable charm, is bound to work.

At the mall, you and Dustin lurk behind the bushes in the food court, your eyes scanning the back of Steve’s head. He’s hunched over, looking more solemn than usual, and it sends a knot through your stomach.

“Damn, what did you do to him?” Dustin mutters, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Shut up,” you whisper, nudging him to stay quiet. “That’s what you’re here for.”

Taking a steadying breath, you walk toward Steve. Dustin lingers behind, his curiosity barely contained. You approach quietly, your steps light, then cover Steve’s eyes with your hands from behind.

“Guess who?”

“The love of my life.” Steve’s voice isn’t full of the usual warmth, but rather a tinge of pleading, like he’s reminding you of everything good between you, hoping you’ll see it too.

Your heart twinges at the sound of his hurt. He turns gradually to face you, his expression a mix of relief and uncertainty.

“I missed you,” you mumble, stepping closer. Your lips meet his, soft but cautious, neither of you daring to go further just yet.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you whisper against his lips, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “I really do want to talk about it. But, for now, I brought you something. A peace offering. An olive branch, if you will.”

You give him a tentative smile. His eyes enlarge, a glimmer of hope lighting up his face.

“No…” His voice drops, a spark of realization creeping into his expression. “Is it—”

Before he can finish, a familiar chuckle cuts through the moment.

“Henderson!” Steve’s face breaks into a grin, his voice filled with pure joy. “Henderson! He’s back!”

“I’m back!” Dustin echoes, jumping in with the same uncontainable enthusiasm. He steps forward, practically beaming. “You got the job!”

“I got the job!” Steve shouts, practically leaping into the air.

The two of them meet in the middle, hands raised in celebration, only to fall into their signature handshake—a bizarre fusion of fist bumps and lightsaber duels that somehow works every time.

Watching them, Robin’s dry voice cuts through the laughter, her face completely serious. “How many children is he friends with?” she asks, eyeing you with a level of disbelief.

You can’t help but laugh, the tension easing for the first time that day. Steve’s excitement is infectious, even if there’s still a faint edge to his demeanor. You settle into the booth, but Steve, ever so subtly, keeps just a fraction of space between the two of you. It stings, but you tell yourself it’s nothing.

Dustin, on the other hand, fills the silence between you with tales of his summer adventures, leaning in with enthusiasm. He seems especially proud of his new girlfriend, a subject that Steve, not unkindly, seems to dismiss.

“No way,” Steve scoffs, lifting an eyebrow. “Hotter than Phoebe Cates?”

You shoot him a pointed glare, and he immediately backpedals, realizing his mistake.

“Uh—that’s impossible because only Y/N is hotter than Phoebe Cates,” he clears his throat, the change in tone unmistakable.

“Good boy,” you mutter softly, a smile tugging at your lips. His body shifts at the compliment, just slightly, the smallest sign of unease that doesn’t escape you.

Dustin keeps going, blissfully unaware, recounting his summer exploits with fervor. “Well, uh,” Steve mumbles, shaking his head, clearly trying to find his footing.

“We’re proud of you, pal, that’s…it’s uh…really romantic,” you quip, biting back a laugh. The words hang in the air, an inside joke you’re both aware of but can’t quite get past.

“So, where are the other knuckleheads?” Steve asks, his voice an odd mix of casual curiosity and something else—something you’re still trying to figure out.

“They ditched me,” Dustin answers, mouth full of ice cream. “Can you believe that shit?”

“Whoa,” Steve leans forward, surprised. “Seriously?”

“But they’re going to regret it when they don’t get to share in my glory.” Dustin’s grin is wide, his energy uncontainable.

“What glory?” you ask, a raised eyebrow your only response.

“So, last night, we’re trying to get in contact with Suzie…” Dustin trails off dramatically.

“Oh,” Steve’s face shifts at the mention of Suzie, his enthusiasm palpable yet controlled. It makes you laugh, just a little, at how predictable they are.

“And, uh…I intercepted a secret Russian communication,” Dustin continues, voice lowering to a near whisper.

“Huh?” You lean forward, caught off guard.

“I intercepted a secret Russian communication,” he repeats, but this time, the words are nearly indecipherable.

“Just speak louder,” Steve grumbles, growing annoyed.

“I INTERCEPTED A SECRET RUSSIAN COMMUNICATION!” Dustin shouts, too loudly, causing both you and Steve to jolt forward, hands raised in a frantic hush.

“Jeez, shh. Yeah, okay, that’s what I thought you said,” Steve lowers his voice, shaking his head, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement despite the tension.

“And that’s my cue to leave,” you say, standing up, sensing the gravity of the situation and the need to step out before everything gets too complicated. “I fought demon hounds last year, I’m not about to fight evil Russians this year.”

Steve watches you leave, his gaze lingering for just a second, as though he’s trying to find the words that have been sitting in his chest, unsaid. His fingers twitch at his side, wishing he could reach out, wishing he could make things right in a way that would finally make you believe in him.

“So what does this mean?” Steve turns back to Dustin, his tone a little more serious now.

“It means we could be heroes, Steve,” Dustin says, leaning in with a sense of importance. “True, American heroes. Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you and Y/N, but all those times you told me you wanted to prove to her that you can give her the life you both want in the future, this could be your chance!”

Steve looks over to where you just were, conflicted. This is his chance to show you he’s not just some guy who slings ice cream and hopes to be more. To prove he can be the one who stands beside you—not behind you, not left behind, but beside you in everything that’s to come. That he’s more than any college scholar or athlete who could chase after you. He wants to be the one who stands up, who fights for you.

He approaches you carefully, his hand brushing your arm just enough to draw your attention.

"We’ll talk later… but right now, I’ve got important matters to attend to.”

There’s a flicker of something behind his eyes — resolve mixed with a hint of boyish excitement — and before you can form a reply, he’s already moving.

“Steve—”

But he’s gone, pulling Dustin by the arm as they disappear into the back room of Scoops.

You exhale, glancing around the now-quiet space. Robin raises an eyebrow, her arms crossed as she leans against the counter.

“Well,” you say, awkwardly adjusting your bag, “I’m gonna leave them to… whatever that was.”

“And what exactly are you leaving them to?” Robin asks dryly.

“Something about espionage, I think?” You shrug, offering a half-hearted wave before turning to wander off into the mall.

“Espionage,” Robin repeats under her breath, shaking her head. “Right. Sure.”

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It’s been hours — too many hours — and still no sign of Steve. No call, no visit. By the time you pull into the mall parking lot, the place is nearly empty, lights flickering off in store windows as closing time approaches.

Scoops Ahoy is dark inside, but faint voices carry from the back room. Without hesitation, you push the door open.

The moment you step inside, Steve jumps to his feet like you’ve caught him red-handed.

“Y/N!” He’s in front of you before you can take another step, hands hovering awkwardly at his sides, like he’s trying to block your view.

Behind him, Robin’s perched at the table with a pen in hand, a recorder playing something distorted and garbled. She barely looks up.

“Okay,” you start, crossing your arms tightly, “so you leave in a hurry last night without letting me explain, then today you barely even look at me, and now I find you holed up back here with her?”

Steve’s face falls. “No — no, that’s not… that’s not what this is.”

“I just thought…” You exhale sharply, forcing your voice to steady. “I thought we’d talk tonight. Clear the air. But instead, you’re ‘working late’ with Robin?”

His shoulders sag like he’s run out of excuses — or maybe the energy to make them.

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” he says, quieter now. “Dustin… Dustin really did intercept some kind of Russian message. We’ve been trying to translate it all day.”

You stare at him, unimpressed. “Then let me translate it.”

Steve shifts uncomfortably, scratching the back of his neck. “I just… I know you wanted to stay out of anything life-threatening this time.” His words are careful, but the truth sits just behind them — he wants to prove himself.

“You’re making this sound really sketchy,” you warn, frustration bubbling up.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Dustin’s voice cuts in, startling you. He’s suddenly beside you, balancing a greasy bag of food court Chinese in one hand, “But honestly, you did make it sound like you were sneaking around with Robin. Don’t worry though, I was here the entire time.”

“How long have you been standing there?” Steve groans.

“The whole time,” Dustin says through a mouthful of noodles. He pauses to chew. “We didn’t even want Robin’s help — she just kinda… forced her way in.”

Robin waves from the table without looking up.

“Well,” you sigh, “I wanna take a look.”

“You speak Russian?” Dustin asks, eyes wide like you’ve just revealed you’re secretly royalty.

“I took it in ninth and tenth grade,” you say with a shrug.

Dustin presses a hand to his heart. “I just want you to know that, even though I’m in a committed relationship now, you will always be my first love.”

You step over to Robin’s side. “What’ve you got so far?”

“I think I’m finished,” Robin says, handing you a napkin scrawled with messy notes.

You scan the page, tracing the words with your finger. “Not bad,” you admit. “Your phonetics are solid, but this word, you have it sounded out like — ohstohrozhno — it should actually be pronounced ah-sta-ROZH-na.” You write it out in Cyrillic: осторожно. “It means ‘carefully.’ So ‘tread lightly’ works too, and that makes this phrasing… a lot more cryptic if this is a code.”

Robin’s eyebrows lift. “Wow… okay. That’s impressive.”

Steve’s smile flickers, but it falters just as fast. Another reminder that you’re always a step ahead — always smarter, quicker, better.

Robin glances at him and smirks. “I see what you mean about her,” she teases. “She’s brilliant.” Then she looks back at you. “So… what exactly are you doing with Steve Harrington?”

You laugh, but the sound falters when you catch Steve’s face, that half-smile gone completely now.

The four of you spill out of Scoops Ahoy, the last stragglers in the mall. The air feels oddly still, the fluorescent lights buzzing faintly overhead. Steve pulls down the gate with a rattle of metal and locks it with a sharp click.

You linger nearby, watching him. He stands there a moment longer than necessary, eyes fixed on you like there’s something he can’t quite say.

“Well,” he mutters at last, “so much for being American heroes. This is total nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense,” Dustin fires back, his voice echoing through the empty corridor. “It’s too specific — it’s gotta be a code. Like, a super-secret spy code.”

“That’s a total stretch,” Steve counters, shaking his head.

“I don’t know… I kind of agree,” you say.

Steve’s face twists in disbelief. “Oh, come on. You’re buying into this too?”

“If it is a secret Russian transmission,” Robin cuts in, “what do you think they’d say? ‘Fire the warhead at noon?’ Why would they bother hiding the message if it wasn’t something sensitive?”

You turn to agree, but Steve’s no longer beside you. He’s wandered off, standing by a mechanical rocking horse near the arcade.

“Steve?” you call.

He doesn’t look up. “Uh… it only takes quarters. I need a quarter.” His voice is oddly serious.

You blink at him, bewildered, but fish one out of your pocket and pass it over.

Steve drops the coin in the slot. The horse jerks to life, creaking forward as a tinny, cheerful tune begins to play — loud enough to bounce off the mall’s glass storefronts.

Steve’s gaze snaps to you, wide-eyed, like he’s just uncovered the Holy Grail.

“You need help getting up there, little Stevie?” Robin teases, grinning.

You roll your eyes, ignoring her. Steve’s bizarre logic is turning over in your mind like puzzle pieces sliding into place.

Then it hits you.

“Holy sh—” Your words trail off as you spin toward Dustin, waving urgently. “Give me the recording!”

Dustin fumbles with his bag, digging out the tape. You snatch it from him, crouching beside Steve as you hit play.

The melody, the exact same one playing from the horse, pours through the speaker, distorted but unmistakable. The two songs line up almost perfectly, one echoing the other.

You lean in without thinking, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Oh, you are a genius!”

Steve freezes, stunned into silence. But pride swells in your chest and in his too, even if he’s too surprised to show it.

“I don’t get it,” Robin says, stepping closer.

“Steve figured it out,” you explain, still smiling. “The song on the recording… it’s this horse’s song.”

“Maybe they have the same horses in Russia,” Robin suggests.

Steve scoffs quietly, still watching the rocking horse. “Indiana Flyers?” He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.” His eyes lift to meet yours, something more serious lingering there.

“This code…” He exhales sharply, voice low. “It didn’t come from Russia.” He pauses, the truth settling between you.

“It came from here.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

The next day, Steve and Dustin stake out in the food court, huddled behind a cluster of fake plants. Steve peers through a pair of binoculars, scanning the mall like a man on a mission. He sweeps his gaze across the bustling crowd before landing on the record store — or rather, the empty space behind the counter where you should be.

“Have you seen Y/N today?” he asks, lowering the binoculars.

Dustin gives him a sideways look. “You haven’t talked to her? Dude, you guys are inseparable. What the hell?” He jabs Steve’s arm with his elbow.

“I just… I needed a little space, that’s all,” Steve mutters.

Dustin’s brows lift knowingly. “Is this because she’s looking at colleges?”

Steve lets the binoculars hang limply from his neck. “She’s looking at schools out of state,” he mumbles.

“Okay… and?”

“I just…” Steve drags a hand through his hair. “I feel like I’m holding her back.”

Dustin groans. “Here we go again. Come on, man. This is not the Steve Harrington who dated every girl like he was the prize. Where’s your confidence?” He pauses, softening. “You love each other. College isn’t gonna change that.”

Steve shakes his head. “She’s the prize, man. And I don’t want to screw this up.” He hesitates, voice quieter now. “I—I think I want to ma—”

Before he can finish, a hand clamps down on his shoulder. Steve jumps, spinning around to face your boss.

“Have you seen Y/N?” the man asks, frowning.

Steve blinks, caught off guard. He awkwardly stands from his hiding spot behind the plastic ferns. “I… uh… I thought maybe she was on break. That’s why she wasn’t in the store.”

Your boss shakes his head. “She clocked in this morning but hasn’t been seen since.”

Steve’s stomach twists. He glances at Dustin, panic flickering behind his eyes. Without another word, they rush past your boss and sprint back to Scoops Ahoy, nearly colliding with a customer as they push through the door.

Robin is hunched over the counter, scribbling furiously in her notebook.

“I’m so close to cracking this,” she groans, dragging her pen across the page. “I just can’t figure out what ‘the silver lynx’ means…”

“Robin,” Steve interrupts, his voice tight. He snatches the phone off the wall and punches in your home number. The line rings… and rings… and rings. No answer.

“What’s going on?” Robin asks, straightening.

“Y/N’s missing,” Dustin says flatly.

Robin’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Her boss said she clocked in but hasn’t been seen since this morning,” Steve says, gripping the phone like it might break in his hand. “We need access to the security cameras.”

“Oh sure,” Dustin snorts. “I’ll just waltz up to the security office and ask for the footage. They’ll love that. Real easy.”

Robin smirks. “I might have an idea…”

Robin leads Steve and Dustin through the winding corridors behind the stores, a maze of dull concrete walls and flickering overhead lights. The hum of the mall’s air conditioning drones above them as they approach the security office.

“Alright,” Robin whispers, stopping just before the door. “Here’s the plan — Steve, you’re gonna go in there and charm the guy.”

“Charm?” Steve echoes, eyebrows shooting up. “That’s your big idea?”

“I've seen the way he looks at the male jazzercise instructor….trust me. Charm will go a long way. And besides, you’re the guy who used to strut around this place like you owned it,” Robin reminds him. “I’m pretty sure you can sweet-talk one bored security guard.”

“I don’t know…” Steve mutters. “What if I can’t—”

“Oh my God, just unbutton your shirt or something,” Robin snaps.

Steve glares at her, but reluctantly undoes the top few buttons of his Scoops Ahoy uniform.

“You’re disgusting,” he says flatly.

“And you’re welcome,” she replies with a grin.

Dustin leans closer. “And what are we doing?”

Robin smirks. “We’re going to make a little… distraction.”

Steve exhales sharply and steps through the door.

Inside, the security guard, a middle-aged man with a mustache and a Styrofoam cup of coffee, barely looks up from his magazine.

“Can I help you?” he asks, voice dull.

“Yeah, hey!” Steve grins, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Listen, I’m having a bit of a… situation with my girlfriend.” He glances over his shoulder as if someone might overhear. “I think she’s mad at me. I was hoping you could help me out… you know, check the cameras so I can figure out where she went?”

The guard barely spares him a glance. “Can’t do that, kid. Mall policy.”

“Come on, man,” Steve says, leaning in with a conspiratorial smile. “You’d really be saving me here. She’s… she’s a total knockout, and if I mess this up?” He winces dramatically. “I’ll never hear the end of it.”

The guard’s expression doesn’t budge. “Still no.”

Steve grits his teeth. “Okay… what if I—”

Suddenly, the emergency exit alarm blares down the hall. The guard shoots to his feet, muttering curses under his breath.

“What the hell—”

“I’ll check it out for you!” Steve offers quickly, but the man’s already bolting out the door.

Steve waits until the sound of the guard’s footsteps fades, then gestures frantically for Robin and Dustin. They burst through the door just as Steve slides behind the desk.

“Nice work, Harrington,” Robin teases.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s just find the footage,” Steve mutters, flipping switches until the grainy black-and-white monitors flicker to life.

“There!” Dustin points to one of the screens.

The footage flickers, grainy and washed out in shades of gray. Steve’s eyes lock onto the screen the second your face appears. There you are, opening the back door to the record store. He feels a flicker of relief — you look calm, unharmed — but it vanishes just as quickly. A man in a delivery uniform hands you a package.

“Okay… okay…” Steve mutters under his breath, watching your every move like he can will the footage to change.

You don’t close the door. Instead, you lean out, watching the man as he walks away. Then you vanish back inside the store.

“Where are you going?” Steve whispers, his fingers tightening around the desk. He doesn’t notice how hard he’s gripping it, and doesn’t feel Robin’s hand resting on his shoulder.

Then you reappear — no package in hand — and start following the delivery man.

Steve’s chest tightens.

“Why would she follow him?” Robin asks, her voice quiet.

“She’s not stupid,” Steve snaps, but his eyes stay glued to the screen. What were you thinking?

Robin changes the feeds as you move down the back corridors. Steve’s pulse pounds in his ears. The walls on the screen blur in his vision, but he doesn’t blink. You’re ducking into doorways whenever the man turns around, staying just out of sight. He almost feels proud…you’re smart and careful, but the tension in his chest coils tighter.

“Come on… come on…” he murmurs.

The feed switches again. You’re out by the loading docks now, hiding behind a stack of crates. The man stands with two others, their conversation too far away to hear. One of them glances in your direction.

“Don’t move,” Steve begs. “Don’t move.”

You duck, just in time. Steve exhales, gripping the desk so hard his knuckles go white.

“They’re leaving,” Dustin points out. “She’s fine… she’s—”

You step out from your hiding spot too soon. The door swings open again, and Steve’s stomach drops.

“No,” he chokes out.

You turn to run, but they’re too fast. One of them grabs your arm. You twist free, slamming your elbow into his ribs and kicking the second man hard enough that he stumbles back. For a second…a fleeting, impossible second, Steve thinks you might break free.

“Yes!” Dustin cheers.

But then the second man snags your wrist, yanking you back before you can break away. You thrash in his grip, landing a sharp kick to his shin. Steve’s heart jolts with hope —

“Come on,” he urges. “Come on, baby… you can do this…”

There are too many of them and they're too strong. You fight harder than Steve’s ever seen, but it’s not enough. One of them pins your arms, and the other grabs something from his pocket —

“No… no, no, no…” Steve breathes.

You struggle for another second before your body falters. Your legs buckle. Your head lolls against your captor’s shoulder, limp and lifeless.

Steve’s chair scrapes back violently as he jumps to his feet.

“We have to go,” he says, his voice shaking. “We have to go now.”

“Steve,” Robin starts, but he’s already halfway to the door.

“You don’t get it,” he snaps over his shoulder, voice cracking. “They have her.”

And he’s gone, shoving his way through the mall with only one thought in his head — get to you before it’s too late.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Tag List:

@xplrnowornever @brother-lauren @the-au-thor

[kbs-and-fds]

Yo, Welcome to my photography blog!

This is a photography project with a focus on older digital cameras sold before the mid 2000s. I've been working with these sorts of cameras since 2022, which grew from my interest in retro computers that I have had since 2020 or so. Here, I'll introduce you to my cameras, my computer rig, and try to convince you that this is a cool hobby.

General Q & A:

Whats in the name? - Kb refers to Kilobyte, all of the photos I take with these cameras only take up a little over 100 Kilobytes of digital storage per photo. FD refers to the physical media the photos are stored in, currently one camera uses floppy disks (FD), the other two use compact flash (CF) and smart media (SM) cards. unfortunately, their shortened forms do not rhyme and so they do not matter.

What can I expect from this blog? - amateur photography using old cameras, I guess. I'll say some nonsense below each photo but you're free to ignore it. I don't plan on reblogging anything here, so don't expect that. I am the star of this blog. me me me. I tend towards finding weird buildings/architecture, "liminal spaces", sunsets, and generally trying to see how well I can make a photo look like a blender render in a Kane pixels video. don't expect any consistency, though. the medium will remain the same but the vibes will absolutely fluctuate with my mood. I'll try and tag things correctly if it's off putting.

Are you a cool person? - I tend to be! I don't want this place to be alienating for anybody but assholes who don't deserve to see the stuff I do. being a tumblr blog, I follow a lot of the standard stuff. jerks are not welcome and I'm not gonna give you the pleasure of an argument if you do turn your head round these parts.

who are you? - trans pan girl. takes pictures. listens to Femtanyl. much unlike Peter Parker.

My Cameras

Mavica FD-7

released in 1997, this was the second of Sony's "Digital Mavica" line of cameras. it records photos of around 50Kbs in size to a standard 3 1/2" floppy disk. it has some standard features like a manual focus wheel, 10x optical zoom, and exposure control. I haven't found a strict source but I believe this camera is less than one megapixel. I actually have a few different Mavica cameras (a fd-71/75/83/85/87 and a cd-1000) but they aren't different from the fd-7 enough to justify being used often. I'll make note on individual posts if I use 'em at all.

Kodak DC220

released in 1999, with a quality of exactly one megapixel the DC 220 is a weird little thing. it has custom software, connects to a computer via com ports with a transfer speed of ~11,000 bit/s. (roughly 30-60 seconds per photo in my experience) you can add custom text to your photos in the cameras built in software, and attach custom audio to each photo. it is a pain in the butt to get working, but it's quirks make it worth the frustration.

Olympus E-10

made in 2000 with a quality of a whopping four megapixels, the Olympus E-10 is the newest addition to my collection, and possibly the nicest camera I'll ever own. it's a fixed lens DSLR camera capable of 4x zoom, you can easily adjust the aperture and exposure on the fly, it's photos tend to be a whole 100kb in size (1/10th of a megabyte!) and to be entirely honest I have no idea how to use it. but I will eventually!

My Computer

I try to use all era-appropriate tech to transfer photos and do any edits, this is the computer I do all that processing on! its a Dell Optiplex gx1- the daddy of pretty much any computer used in public schools (Chromebooks don't count) It's got a Pentium 3 CPU clocking at 500MHz, 512mb ram, running windows ME. it has all the original Kodak DC220 software installed, and I can't really access the Kodak's photos any other way. I've also got a few other weird bits attached to it -an HP sketch pro cad tablet and an external data cartridge SCSI device. both work, but I don't really bother to use them, they just look neat.

that's about it. have a good one! thanks for reading this all, if you did.

[captainzigo]

so unfortunately very few entries here are going to properly be vintage. also what i consider vintage might not line up with what you do. i am not old.

also i am not wealthy. and my family isn’t wealthy. this is an expensive hobby to have. i get most of my stuff from loving it and refusing to throw it away… and digging through the trash at university. you would be surprised with the stuff people throw away. planned obsolescence has nothing on the fact that people can’t be bothered to fix a sour harddrive.

i actually fix computers as a sort of second job. it’s nice to work on computers i can’t afford and that aren’t from the trash. but i love old tech. i love breathing life in to things long dead. i’m a technonecromancer. i am not including pictures of things i haven’t finished yet for the most part. and i simply am not including most things. this is but a fraction of my power

ok so these are all my computers that work. i didn’t include ones that im still working on. they all worked but needed repairs variously. mostly they just needed new hard drives.

my game consoles. again not including ones that don’t work. i actually bought that 3ds, but the rest my parents gave me after they got them used. that gameboy has needed a screen replacement that required soldering. the ds is my little trooper and has needed nothing ever. the wii needed a new disc drive. and the 3ds came in japanese and i hacked it to english.

there’s a back view of my stickers

these are some of my various devices. again not including ones that don’t work. that nano needed a new battery which was actual hell and i’m surprised it survived. that ipad is the first ipad and she works beautifully and one time i fastened it to my tummy for a tellytubby costume. i was slutty lala and i played the old spiderman movie trilogy in glorious VHS quality. i couldn’t find my iphone 3gs for this picture :( but it will turn up. i’ll include an old picture instead of cleaning my room to find it lol

here are some novelties i just like. thats an old radio i swiped from my great grandfather. i got it working but it broke again. i dont know whats wrong with it and its so old that the parts are impossible to find. on the right is the browser for DS which is just so quaint. i love it. it barely works at all but i loaded a wikipedia page one time so xP

this is my terrible stupid tiny phone i got from aliexpress that barely works BUT IT DOES WORK and is technically loaded with all modern smartphone features. i attached a video of it barely playing roblox

this is my og imac. with the og keyboard. i didn’t include it with the working computers because it doesn’t. the harddrive died and im trying to fix it but its really hard. i’ve already sought out two different adapters that haven’t worked

and this is a commodore 64 that i also got out of the trash. it does not work but im hoping to make it work. someone clearly loved it. enough to paint it crazy colors and enough to

write some weird scifi quote on the inside of the case under the RF shield. but maybe they died, or it just became too much of an undertaking.

not included here is:

• several more apple products that i just don’t think look good. all the iphones between 6 and 11 are just so ugly. and i don’t actually like the way apple watches look

• the phone, tablet, and smart watch i actively use

• various bits and bobs like the official speakers for a imac 4, an electronic pocket dictionary, various wii peripherals and so on

• all of my audio equipment

• my iphone 3gs. i just never found it or any pictures of it. i love it tho. it was my first phone (hand me down. i’m not that old) and i have had to repair it so many times and i love taking bad photos with it

• all of my monitors

• my many videogames

• my old fridge that i love and cherish and use

• anything i have fixed and then given to someone else

• a bunch of other stuff

so if you are a beautiful trans woman, are you in love with me yet? or do i need to make a part two

[the-violet-galaxy]

~Sigh~

I tried to hold off on talking about a negative opinion, but today's episode was kinda a straw that broke the camel's back for me, and I gotta say something.

I hate that the Show is legitimately making New Moon inferior to Old Moon. This isn't even an opinion anymore, it's basically canon -- the way they've written it, Old Moon is genuinely better than New Moon in every single way, from brains to morality.

Old Moon is much smarter, more intelligent and cunning, his technological skills are SO much better than Nexus's. Moon looks at everything Nexus has ever built and LAUGHS at it and mocks him and calls him a bad builder -- there isn't a single thing he's impressed by, or even one kind of technology that New Moon is matched with him in skills at or slightly better at. (And the other characters tacitly agree, especially Sun.) He's also more cunning because in one swoop he snagged Ruin's signature to find his spaceship, and is schooling Ruin in terms of making a deal with him -- something New Moon was not capable of doing.

This is especially egregious because of the episode "A Talk With Past Moon." (This episode has noticeable bad retcons. In recent episodes, Old Moon says he received none of New Moon's memories or information. But during "A Talk With Past Moon" he knew EVERYTHING that had happened during New Moon's life, and referenced a lot of it. In recent episodes they go too hard with the gag of Old Moon not knowing anything that had happened in the past year, which is annoying because in A Talk With Past Moon he KNEW everything that had happened.) So during A Talk With Past Moon, Old Moon knew everything about New Moon's life, and thus knew about the things New Moon had built, his technological capabilities, and how smart New Moon was when dealing with enemies. And in that video, Old Moon says to New Moon: "Oh by the way! You've never been Inferior, you've been holding yourself back out of fear." Old Moon meant that when he said it. Therefor, this shows that Old Moon viewed New Moon is smart -- he considered him as smart as himself, or smarter in his own ways....

...But in recent episodes he's literally using the word "inferior", calling him stupid, a bad builder -- treating New Moon like a limp noodly punching bag.

New Moon isn't stupid. But the Show is now written so that it's canon he was stupid.

AND THEN, all the projects that New Moon was involved in, Old Moon sweeps in and is solving them instantly. New Moon isn't even allowed to keep the wins he DID achieve. OLD MOON is fixing Dazzle's broken body after one glance where New Moon couldn't do it in weeks. He's throwing everything New Moon built into the trash or calling it all badly designed.

They couldn't even let New Moon have an easy win/throw him a bone: When Old Moon looked at New Moon's garage lab, he sees the slot machines and starts mocks them; Sun suggests "maybe he converted them to look inconspicuous, so it'd be hidden...?" and Moon replies "No, I can tell they're just slot machines." Really......??? Why couldn't they have given New Moon this ONE win? Old Moon could have looked around and been like "Ah! All this stuff looks like it's just a normal garage, but there's a TON of hidden tech in here. Not bad, not bad." New Moon couldn't just have that?? It has to be another moment for Old Moon to go "incompetent, incompetent, an incompetent version of me......"

The straw was in today's episode where Moon talked to Nexus. Moon spends the whole time laughing at Nexus. There isn't a single moment where he feels attentive or like he's on alert from a threat. And later when Moon talks to Sun, he's dismissive of Nexus and says "ehhhh I think he's trying to match wits with me. Didn't turn out well for him." My guys, if Nexus IS GOING to be a villain (godIhatethisplot), then why can't Nexus, like... actually HAVE something?? Like why can't Old Moon sound just a little bit concerned with the idea that they have a new threat?? Cuz if no one is intimidated by him, why should we the audience worry about him? (Especially since the Show has made Old Moon the infinitely superior Moon. Since we're shown New Moon was SOOOOOO incompetent, then who is even worried? We know Old Moon is gonna spank Nexus like a toddler when they meet.)

What I'm getting at is I hate that New Moon is written to be stupid. Because he's not stupid. It's like they retconned his brains, his own skills, and his own accomplishments away. It isn't fair that they've written him to be stupid and dumb and laughable in the face of Old Moon's impeccable unbeatable genius.

New Moon shouldn't be put down so much just to prop Old Moon up.

(One idea that scares me is they might do something with this and New Moon's arc of "you DON'T have a legacy and don't need to live up to Old Moon!" and by the end Nexus will use this all as a learning experience where he'll be okay not being as smart as his past self. Now to be clear, New Moon DOESN'T need to compare himself to Old Moon, and he never needed to prove himself, this is true. However, when the arc is set up this way to where New Moon is written to be SO LAUGHABLY WORSE than Old Moon, and Old Moon is laughing in his face, then I have a problem with the idea New Moon could just have to lay down and say "yep that's correct, you're factully smarter than I ever could be! And I'm fine with that" after Old Moon insulted everything about him.)

This arc exhausts me, guys. I tried to find things to keep positive about with this arc but I can't. I'm not even a person who thinks Nexus was treated overly bad by his family (he made choices, he gets consequences, at the same time he was manipulated so if he put in the work he could come back), but the WRITING that paints him as canonically stupid almost feels like reading a hatefic at this point. I genuinely did not want Old Moon to come back, period. I love New Moon more than Old Moon and I don't want New Moon to be permanently lost in his Nexus identity. (I'll cut up a part 2 to explain why Old Moon coming back messed up New Moon's arc.)

[contentloadingandstuff]

Big tech, laptop repair to be specific

On todday's episoe of "contentloadingandstuff learns how he is scamme on a daily basis", we have electronics repair. As you can see, my "d" key is not working properly at times. And some others too, but I selom use them. I took it to the repair shop (first a small, non-brand one) and they toldd me that "yeah we ddon't have a spare key so we gotta exchange the whole keyboardd". So I askedd - how much? Three ddays an 700 PLN (~200 $/180€). Nice. Except a new keyboardd costs only 200 PLN (~60$/40€) - off bran, obviously, as MSI oesn't sell specific components. It's so you come to them for your repairs an pay four-five times the actual price.

It's not only this scummy practice. It's also physical solutions. The warranty sticker is place over a screw from the laptop case so you ddon't clean/repaste/repair it yourself an pay up to big repair. But what if you needd to do so? Well, go to your local repair service an either sendd the device on warranty (two, three months) for free or simply pay at a partner establishment that has said magical sticker. You ordered a spare part andd want the repair shop to just put it in? Tough luck - most don't accept parts that aren't theirs. Because, you know, they wouln't be able to scam you out of 400 PLN andd gain the approval of the manufacturer. It's gatekeeping in the purest form - "only we have the right to fix your computer". And if you want to replace saidd keyboardd, you have to use a solddering iron because MSI ddeciddedd to fuck the user over by using soldered plastic instead of screws. It's really only to make it more dddifficult for the average person, it doesn't have any benefit and is, if anything, more inconvenient for the repair crew. Most people didddn't even see a soldering iron in their life andd so would be too lazy/scaredd to ddo the repairs themselves - leadding them back into the greedy, loving arms of the manufacturer and big tech.

It's like with jeweler services. DDon't bring your own prodduct because we won't be able to overcharge you for it andd make a disgusting profit. Or with them telling you diamonds are very valuable and rare - they are not the latter, and are the former just because of artificial scarcity. Big tech also scares you (mostly with the help of casual drone culture and smart marketing) that making repairs on your own is very ddifficuly! DDon't try it yourself!

In reality, all you have to do to clean your laptop fans is unscrew some screws, unplug some things and dtake them out. Repasting? Buy a tube of paste for 20 PLN (6$/4€) and some isopropyl alcohol for pennies and ddo it yourself with a youtube guidde. It's NOT difficult, it's NOT risky, it's not SCARY. It does NOT require specialistic knowledge. DO THIS SHIT YOURSELF! All you need is internet access, some tools/a friend with said tools and basic care to fix the majority of issues on your own.

Contentloadingandstuff out.

[numberonetacostan]

HIHIHI 🦐 ANON AGAIN IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED MY HC 🥺 i have so many omg

im assuming that there's not a lot of food sources available for taco so by this point she has gotten used to going about her day with very little emergy/feeling hungry, she would forget to eat a lot (or purposefully not eat to "conserve food" for others/for more difficult times) and mic has to remind her a lot

taco has probably gotten decently good at living in the woods and making do with stuff because assuming she has scavenged for food or whatever in that forest she could be growing her own food or actually hunting

she's probably semi-good at tech stuff, near test tube's level if not just as good (when she first acquires the invisibow it glitches out/breaks after a few tries but then later on it just never breaks once ? which leads me to assume she fixed it up/improved it somehow.) also the other 2 invisibows had to come from somewhere (the one knife broke and mic/mepad's bow)

she probably has a hoarding problem XD

i think i read a post of yours mentioning she has insomnia because of the forest but consider. she has insomnia because she has to stay alert so she doesn't get caught by the other contestants/anyone in general while she was living in the woods (if you already mentioned this before ignore it HAHA i am so forgetful)

ok that's all the hcs i can remember for now 💛💛 i love reading your posts and i love taco

OMG HI AGAIN SHRIMPY!!! 🦐🦐🦐🦐 I am going to call you shrimpy that is your name now. Welcome back and thank you for returning with more headcanons!!!!^^^^^^

TACO ABSOLUTELY DOES NOT EAT MUCH!!!! I've asked Justin about it, I've discussed (and your second hc for that matter!!) with my buddy @based-and-uncouth, I love this hc so so so much!!! Taco does NOT have easily access to good food sources in the woods!!! She has to conserve what little she does have, and combined with how harsh living in the wild is on one's body, and how small she is, she is unhealthily thin and generally unwell!! She would definitely keep those habits post-canon even when food is more plentiful!!! She just can't shake that fear so easily, yeah? Not to mention, after a period of starvation, a person has to up their portion sizes slowly so they don't make themselves sick!! Even if she wants to, she just can't start eating full portions right away!!! Mic would absolutely remind her to eat and help her out with getting her weight up <3.

And she absolutely has a range of survival skills after her years in the woods!!! Post-canon she would be pretty vital to building up their community, even if not everyone really trusts her, because she knows the most about the terrain, where to bathe, where to find food, and most importantly what food is and isn't safe to eat!!!! I'd imagine like, OJ or something trying to go out and make food on his own without consulting Taco, and then vomiting for a few hours because he used something unsafe in his dish. Lesson learned.

I LOVE HER BEING GOOD WITH TECH!!! Definitely not at a test tube level, it doesn't come as naturally to her, but she's a smart cookie (or a smart taco, I suppose) and could figure plenty out I'd bet!!! I believe she steals the other invisibow for Mic at the same time she steals her black one, and the other one we see in the beginning of episode 15 comes from a box of Testy/LB's things, so I think she just made another one after she "lost" the other two. But Taco does mess with Mepad's teleportation, and even if she doesn't manage to disable his own teleporting, she does enable herself to teleport, which I'd argue is more impressive. Techy Taco my beloved!!!

She would have a hoarding problem!!! Not sure if you meant items or food, but either way I'm with you. I made a post about her hoarding food a while back, so I'm just gonna talk about her hoarding stuff!!! Because Taco has pretty much nothing!!! The only possessions of hers that we see are ones she steals!!! Every resource she can get her hands on is important and must be kept!!! And she'd keep this mindset post-canon, even when she's hoarding pretty objectively useless stuff!!! Mic might help her out with this one too, helping Taco remember that she'll have all her needs met now and that she isn't in any danger <3.

I thiiiiiiink I did mention that when I was talking about her insomnia? But maybe I didn't!!!! Either way I will NOT ignore it because you are right!!!! 🎤 shout it louder anon!!!!! Taco is on constant alert in that forest which makes it very hard for her to sleep!!!!! She does NOT want to get caught!!!! I imagine her worst night is the night after Knife finds out about her and Mic's alliance.

[lilozzzyo]

Miguel O'Hara X Female Reader

Summary: You just started your new job working for the spider society and meet you boss....... Warnings: I do not own Miguel O'Hara (IF ONLY I DID), MDNI, Miguel O'Hara being low key obsessive and possessive, but more love spring and less call the cops crazy, you are super smart and created your trans dimensional device by yourself- GO YOU!

You were beyond excited, nervous but still excited. Ever since you were sitting in your apartment alone tinkering with a device that would allow your to explore different dimensions, you were just about to power it up when a small little digital brunette popped up and said "Oh good I got to you before you powered up your trans dimensional device, I am going to need you to come with me ASAP if you don't mind" you were certain that you had turned on your device, electrocuted yourself and were now passed out so you of course said "can I bring my pizza?"

Fast forward to now you are walking through the spider society building with Lyla chatting your ear off explaining everything as she directed you to your office, while you held a large box with all of your equipment in your arms. Lyla then told that you needed to met the head of the spider society "the head spider?" you asked making Lyla chuckle, or is it "Mr. Spider?" Lyla stopped floating ahead of you to hunch over laughing and responded "yes, please call him that to show respect" you nodded as she pointed down the hall to a large door and said "just go through that door I gotta go make sure your office is ready for you." You walked to the door and barely managed to get the door open when a VERY large man lunged at you roaring "WHO ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE" his voice boomed making you scream as you dropped the box and fell against the door as you stuttered "Ly-Lyla hire- me I smart- I -I-I please don't kill me Mr. Spider Lyla will be so mad" this did little to deter the very large although he was slightly confused as to why you called him Mr. Spider. But luckily for you Lyla appeared and scolded Miguel "WTF do you think you are doing to my new tech?" Lyla wagged her digital little finger at Miguel making him back off and argue with her "Since when do you hire without talking to me, I look up and someone is walking into my office, what did you expect" Lyla gave him a pointed look before he sighs and says "I'm sorry new tech that Lyla hired without talking to me" Miguel's heart immediately breaks though looking at you, now on the floor with tears in your eyes looking terrified, biting your lip, he reaches to help you up and feels how soft your little hand feels in his as you try to smile at his help. Once you are standing your turn around and start to gather your things. Miguel's breath catches in his throat at seeing you now bent over giving a truly breath taking view, you are completely oblivious when you hear him deeply inhale. You turn around after gathering your box asking "are you okay Mr. Spider?" Miguel wants to bash his head into his desk. He looks down at you biting your lip and looking up at him with genuine concern in your beautiful eyes, after he was he asshole who yelled at you. All he can think is, how is this perfect little angel even real. He looks confused looking at you "did you just call me Mr. Spider?" You tilt your head to the side saying, "Lyla said-" you are cut off with Lyla laughing and Miguel sighing deep and saying "you can just call me Spiderman," you nod embarrassed slightly blushing before Lyla telling you to follow her to your office before Miguel faints at how adorable you are.

You are working in your office with your headphones fixing some coding for Lyla unaware of the large man that keeps walking by your office inhaling your scent from outside your door. Miguel doesn't understand how he even got over here, he just couldn't stop thinking about you, your scent, your smile, your body, all the things he would kill just to be able to touch you again, hold you, ANYTHING. He still doesn't understand how he got so obsessed with you so quickly, maybe it was your scent, your scent was sweet like sugary fruity floral heaven, maybe it was because you were from a different dimension. He just knew that he needed to be closer to you.

So come lunch time he knocked on your office door, "it's open, is that you Peter?" you turned around to see your very large boss holding a small pile of empanadas. "I hope you like empanadas, I wanted to come and apologize for earlier." You smile at the food and offer for him to sit , you start to eat the empanadas as he takes off his mask showing you his face for the first time and smiles gently at you as he comments "I like your office" you smile brightly at him "thank you Lyla set it all up for me after I told her what I wanted." you lick you lips after finishing your empanada making Miguel slightly roll his eyes before saying "I am sorry for earlier, I didn't mean to scare you, I am really not a bad guy I was just- you just- ugh I am sorry" he holds his head down so you scoot closer to him and tentatively put your hands on his lap and say "I understand, I am actually happy to know you don't hate me" his head snaps up and looks into your eyes and says "I could never hate you!" you are taken aback a bit at how quickly he said that, you giggle cutely and OH GOD if that wasn't the most beautiful sound he had ever heard, his heart melted and if he wasn't sitting down he might've dropped to his knees from shock. Miguel looked into your eyes, "What dimension are you from?" you smile and tell him "Earth-71, Lyla teleported to me when I was working on my own trans dimensional device."

You spent your entire lunch break with Miguel in your office asking you endless questions about your dimension and your life. He seemed extremely fascinated in you and your life. You lunch break was almost over when he build up the courage to ask you, "um considering you just got to the dimension maybe I could take you out and show you around some time" you smile confused before saying "um sure okay, I am going out with Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter and Pavitr this weekend. Lyla introduced us when I first got to this dimension. They're all super cool." Miguel gritted his teeth and said "yeah they are very cool *sarcastically* but we can go out tonight, I'll pick you up at 7" he has said before smiling and leaving your office to go back to his office and think about how to keep you away from anyone that isn't him because you are clearly made for him and he is already in love *obsessed* with you

This didn't necessarily go where I thought but I am cool with it, I just really wanted to play around with some Miguel O'Hara being immediately sprung over you and wanting you all to himself

[mediacinemtographyartetc]

I hope people hold back the kneejerk reaction on what I'm about to say about ironheart and the trailer. This is not an insult to Riri, nor am I being negative- this is actually engagment on talking about a show and trying to generate hype such as asking questions and hopefully getting answers.

Because I actually DO want to watch the show, I don't care whose on screen if the writing is stimulating thats good enough for me no matter who it is.

I understand WHY people get upset given that the internet sucks and most questions are not from a place of goodwill and it's people being obtust just to ruin a good thing. So any outrage I do understand it and can see why people no longer give good faith in converstations as such,

So before I watch Ironheart I have a question- that I HOPE People will answer.

The trailer did not say WHY the iron motifs? in the comics it makes sense, she's smart enough to impress ai Tony Stark and she makes the ironheart suit okay. But the MCU trailer for Ironheart was Wakanda heavy- so why not another panther suit?

Why ironman? Or a suit thats completely unique and has no bases on both the Panther suit OR the Iron suit and she makes her own suit that doesn't remind you of any ecxisting ones.

Because it's obvious, the HUD helmet, the flight, the iconic repulser sound screams ironman which okay-

"I want to make something iconic,"

By making an ironman suit.

And people disagree with this which I don't get because I feel as if I'm making sense, and people are like "No she is unique-" Its a freakin ironman suit.

like sorry but so many people regardless of skin colour brought up why they didnt like comic miles morales for taking over deadpeteryparker spiderman. its only the games/movies that fixed Miles story. To me this is just another thing of taking a pre-existing character and since tony is dead, it feels like marvel is pandering.

Which personally I think the story would make sense if

a; she was a mechanic for war machine for the last remaining iron man suit hence why she uses that as a blueprint to build off

b; if MIT that she worked at and was funded by TOny stark so she owes him- but she apprintced under wakanda so it'd make sense her inspiration would draw on that AND marvel itself stated that Wakanda is superiour in technology why would she use outdated tech from ironman if Wakanda was better? And what all students of any educational insitution makes their entire brand based on the white guy funding their school- what if he was a bigot it is such a WEAK answer for the MCU riri when the Comic explains it simply.

c; If tony in his will allowed MIT sutdents to use ironman models as a base for their own studies that would make sense, like how he saw potatoe gun kid and Peter Parker that was his basis to implement that for talented individuals to progress even better if he made a puzzle giving blueprints/wip ideas he had and never finished for capbable minds and such.

The trailer kept showing iron man stuff but not Tony stark himself or any connection she had with him-

She doesn't HAVE to idolise him or even have to like him, but making her whol brand based on something where everyone in that world will obviously see a suit and assume it was Tony Starks suit and inventions and think Stark industries had something to do with it.

Tony made his own basis that the military and even Hammer was trying to make Iron suits and FAILED.

idk from my observations of marvel and the fans outside in real life, have low opinions on Tony stark and see him as the 1% elon musk entitled rich boy.

So why would someone like Riri Williams want to be affiliated with someone like that?

[happydragon]

Useful Skill

Phee and Crosshair come to an understanding

Ao3

Rating: G

Word Count: 960

Hope y'all enjoy!!

@summer-of-bad-batch

Phee lisented as Crosshair cursed and struggled through his task. He didn’t know she was there since he probably would have snarked at her to leave if he did. She hadn’t even meant to sneak up on him in the first place, but then she heard a cursed shout which scared a poor moon-yo. When she went to find out the source, she discovered a very frustrated sniper as he struggled with his prosthetic hand. He seemed to be trying to do some maintenance on it but wasn’t making much progress. After a few more curses and a handful of groans, she decided enough was enough.

“Need a hand?” she asked as she approached closer. 

He briefly lifted his eyes, not surprised she was standing there. He tinkered a bit more before he finally gave up and threw the tool to the ground. 

“Be my guest,” he hissed as he turned away but held his hand out for her. She raised a skeptical brow but picked up the tool and sat a respectable distance from the sulking man. Both for his comfort and her safety. Can never be too sure if someone bites when aggravated. 

“What seems to be the problem?” She asked as she took his hand to inspect it. When he remained quiet, she glanced up with an expectant look and found him still turned away from her. 

“Listen, as much as I understand you don’t like me, I can’t fix a problem if I don’t know what it is.”

He finally turned to her with an annoyed frown but finally spoke, “Blasted thing won’t respond when I try to do anything. I pick something up only to end up dropping it two minutes later.”

She hummed as she turned back to the offensive item in question. With a slight press of her finger, she opened the compartment that hid all the wiring. She inspected the wiring, carefully using the tool to push aside the wiring so she wouldn’t accidentally cause him pain. 

As she worked, she could feel Crosshair’s eyes watching her every move. It wasn’t so much annoying as it was curious. He usually kept their interactions to a minimum. Hunter assured he was like that with everyone when he first met them and to be fair to Crosshair she has enjoyed getting under his skin just a little too much. He reminded her of Tech, although she used a different method to get under his skin. She sometimes made it a game to see how red she could get his cheeks in the shortest amount of time. Although the things he could say, she could swear made her heart stop. 

With one final click, she finished and handed the tool back to him.

“Should work smoothly now,” she announced as she stood back up and dusted herself. She watched as he flexed his trembling fingers, testing the movements. After a moment he nodded, so she turned to take her leave. 

“I don’t hate you, you know?” he said, causing her to turn back. He now stood, massaging the back of his prosthetic hand as he stared at the ground. 

“Yeah, I know. I also know I don’t make it the easiest for you.”

“Yeah, well I suppose I could be less cruel.”

She hummed but said nothing. Guess they were both at fault. 

“Where did you learn how to do that anyway?” he asked, “You don’t seem-”

“Like the smart type?”

“Your words, not mine.”

She gave a small laugh with a shake of her head. 

“Learned from Brown Eyes.” Crosshair paused in mistrations. “He said it could be used for more than just prosthetics. Like when I need to repair Mel.”

Now it was Crosshair’s turn to hum. She almost decided to turn back but then he spoke up again. 

“What,” a pause, “what was he to you?” 

That took her by surprise. She figured he had been filled in on their relationship by the others or at least had an idea of it. Maybe he wanted a better understanding. 

“Well I’d say we’re what you hope to be with Jana,” she said, unable to resist the chance to tease him. It worked, with his mouth immediately turning into a scowl as his cheeks darkened, if only slightly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a bad liar, you know that right? Most of you are. Funny how the sweetest one of all of you is the best liar.”

That made him actually bark a short laugh, which in turn made her smile. He deserved a good laugh. He and his siblings. If there was one thing she enjoyed more than teasing Tech, it was making him laugh. He had a great laugh. Not too bad of a smile either. She missed that smile. So kriffing much.

“To answer your question,” she began as she looked down, “We never had a chance to define what we were.” 

Crosshair nodded and didn’t press further. It felt strange to talk about it. Shep, Hunter, and Wrecker never asked, but Shep wasn’t a pushy person and the latter two had more pressing matters. It sort of felt nice to let out in the open. While it hurt, it made it real. Whatever they were, it was real. 

“Thanks again for the hand,” he interrupted her thoughts.

“Yeah, well, you know where to find me if you need me.”

“Right, I’ll be sure to look for where there's buried treasure.”

“Oh he’s got jokes now,” she laughed, not the slightest bit upset. 

“I’m full of surprises.”

With that, he wandered off, leaving Phee with her thoughts once more. As she watched him go, she secretly hoped that Crosshair and Jana would have the chance she never did.

I like to think it took a bit before Phee and Crosshair got along, but now that they've teamed up, pray for Hunter's sanity lol

[theladyheroine]

The Bad Batch ATLA AU 🪨🔥🌊🍃

❥ Headcanons #1

❥ Hello there! 👋🏽 I’m back with the Bad Batch posts! And I wanted to try elaborating on a previous headcanon I made. There’s some things I might change from the original concept though, but I hope you all enjoy!

Starting off, as a way to try & connect with both the Clone Wars & Bad Batch concepts, let’s just say it’s during the 100 Year War. I think the major clones from the series would be soldiers fighting the Fire Nation. Or as an alternative, it could take place during a different Avatar period. And maybe they’re framed individuals on the run? Kind of like in Season 1-2 of the series. 😅

Either way, I really want Omega to be the Avatar! But so far for each member, they would be from a specific region or place. Rather than being everyone being related, they don’t exactly resemble each other anyways lol. 😅

Also shoutout to my Bad Batch Discord Server! Who helped me flesh out this AU! 🙏💕💕

Hunter would definitely be a firebender, at first I wanted him to be Earth instead but Fire seems more his style. While he’d still be the tracker of the group, he might also play role as a scout when they enter a new territory. For a professional occupation, maybe he’d be some kind of a survivalist? Just a guy out in the wilderness, I’m not too sure what else to do for him though? 😅 If anyone has any ideas I’d appreciate it!

Wrecker is an obvious earthbender, but I don’t want him to be only a skilled fighter because of his strength. I feel like that’s a common trope for tough characters, but also because Wrecker is known to be pretty smart with his demolitions skills. He could prove to be a good engineer or inventor much like Sokka, with the help of Tech of course. Even a metal bender!

Tech would for sure be an airbender, at first I wanted Water but air bending is about avoiding your opponent then knocking them off balance. Which is totally Tech’s thing! However, I feel as though Tech would have a bit of wanderlust in Avatar? He’d want to see the world & learn about the other nations, so maybe he’d already be an Airbending teacher! Or a researcher! But with some engineering skills he’s picked up since he, Echo, & Wrecker spend alot of time fixing the ship too.

Echo was definitely a toughie for me, but I decided to go with Waterbending instead! While I’m sure it’d be a little bit tougher considering his prosthetics, I feel he’d be very a real strong bender once he gets going. His teaching skill is very kind though with Omega. Also! As his occupation I feel being a normal solider fighting the Fire Nation would work well with him.

Crosshair would be a nonbender from the Fire Nation! He’s definitely a hothead but since he can’t bend I feel he’d try to teach Omega how to use weapons if she can’t bend in a situation. But instead of a gun or something like that he’d be the archer of the group! Maybe he’d have Hunter make flaming arrows for him if they need it, but he strongly advises against it. 😅

And Omega is *drumroll* the Avatar!! 🥳 I really really wanted her to be the Avatar, and water is probably the best fit for her! I originally picked Air but I changed my mind because I didn’t want her to be a copy of Aang, it didn’t seem fair. And I did get an idea from my Bad Batch discord saying Batcher would be a Polar Bear Dog! This was sooooo cute! But continuing, Omega would be thrilled to travel with the Bad Batch! Storywise, I feel maybe she left the North Pole part of the world to either learn on her own or she had to leave for safety reasons? But also because those who were originally training her thought it’d be too dangerous for her to leave the Pole.

I also want to include Gonky because he’s the Bad Batch mascot! Gonky would be a little injured turtleduck Omega found while traveling near the Earth Kingdom. And he likes to hitch rides in their bags or maybe Wrecker likes to hold him since he’s so cute & wittle! 🥰😊 Batcher likes to play with him too but he gets scared sometimes. 😅

The Maurauder is also Tech’s Flying Bison! I did discuss with the discord about his name being Maurauder or Havoc? I went with Maurauder, but both can work well!

❥ And that’s it for now! I do wanna expand on this at some point in the future, but I hope you all had fun! 🙌 Thank you for your time!

[booksrbetterthanpeople]

So, with the new special coming up with Shadybug and Claw Noir, I’ve gotta ask, what are Scarlet Beetle, Ikati Black, Monarch, and Prince Paon’s alternate selves like?

Blood Beetle

Cold, calculated, greedy, and just a little bit flirty with his “Kitten.”

He works out so he’s stronger than his opponents and can easily snap them like twigs

This guy does NOT care about the lives of innocents, as long as he’s got the cash and jewels he stole, then he’s fine

Will not hesitate to put people in danger if it means getting his way, and makes people BEG him on their knees to use his Miracle Cure…

… Only to not use it

And quick thing to remember: Unless you have a death wish, never try to flirt with Ikati Bleak

When he’s not Blood Beetle, Kim is tormenting people at DuPont Dormitory For Wayward Teens for cash and breaking every PDA rule with Max

He was sent to DuPont for attacking just about anyone who looked at him funny

“Kitten~ Steal that gem for me, would you, baby?”

“Ugh! It’s not my fault this light weight can’t take a punch!”

“Come on… Beg me, and maybe I’ll fix your shit city.”

Ikati Bleak

Ikati Bleak is extremely smart and knows how to get in your head. Never trust him

He’s the brains behind every robbery committed by himself and his “Blood Bug.”

He can easily hack into the government and cause all sorts of mass destruction with the push of a button if civilians step out of line

Like Blood Beetle, he doesn’t care about the lives of other people, seeing them as only stepping stones in their path towards total domination

Whatever Blood Beetle desires, he is more than happy to do whatever it takes to make him happy

Enjoys using his cataclysm on famous landmarks and important artifacts

As Max, he’s deceitful, gets a thrill out of using his intellect against others, and uses his tech skills to torment the student body

Max was sent to DuPont for hacking into the grade books and ruining everyone’s GPAs just for the hell of it

“Whatever my Blood Bug wants, he gets.”

“Ruining lives is just no fun when they don’t cry.”

“One little button. That’s all it takes to see your city turn to dust.”

Emperor

One word… Insane

Emperor has no goal other than to cause mass chaos and make all who stand before him kneel at his feet

He turns people into Akumas against their will and uses psychological and/or emotional torture to make them comply

He forces them to steal, cause property damage, and attack a few people he doesn’t like

He only has a soft spot for Prince Pain and will drop everything to just kiss his hand

As Nathaniel, he’s just as unhinged as Emperor. People would say he has a Napoleon Complex, but the last person to say that mysteriously fell down the stairs

Note: Nathaniel hates it when people even imply that he’s inferior

Those at his last school were relieved when the School Tyrant finally left

“Princey, allow me torment this undesirable for you, darling.”

“Aw~ Why so serious? And here I thought we were having so much fun.”

“Oh, I have ways of making you comply, dear.”

Prince Pain

He’s every bit of crazy as Emperor, but braver. He’s jumped off the top of the Eiffel Tower and landed on the back of a winged Senticreature

This guy only has a soft spot for Emperor and his babies

He can’t bear to part with them, so he lets them run around Paris, destroying everything in sight on a weekly basis

He’d never send an Amok after a civilian, becuase then they can turn his Senticreature against him!

He’s got the personality of Evil!Spinel with a bit of Harley Quinn mixed in there, always clapping and laughing when someone gets hurt

He will follow Emperor to the ends of the earth for no reason other than to cause chaos with him

Marc was sent to DuPont because there was no mental facility that would take him

“Hear that, babies? Other daddy is proud of you, my little weapons of mass destruction!”

“Voices in my head say I’m perfectly normal like any other person.”

“I don’t like the words your saying… Do you need your tongue removed?”

[vodika-vibes]

Hurt

Summary: When you're injured while on a job, some truths come out.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Thief!Reader

Word Count: 1811

Warnings: Violence

Song: None

A/N: I've been watching Leverage, so this was born from that. And then I remembered, halfway through writing this, that I already had a Fox x Thief!Reader story, so this is technically a continuation?

Divider by Saradika

You enjoy your job. It’s not, perhaps, the most high paying job on Coruscant, but you enjoy it all the same. You investigate crimes, and try to fix what happened for the victim.

Of course, you don’t go out into the field so much anymore. Which is more than fine for you, you’ve always been happier being tech support rather than doing the actual grifting, or hurting people. You hate hurting people. And you’re not allowed to jump from buildings anymore because your maybe-boyfriend doesn’t like it.

He also really doesn’t like that you had elected to join this crew rather than remaining with the Guard, but he understands. At least a little.

“Let’s keep this simple, everyone.” You roll your eyes as your boss’ voice echoes across the comms that connect you with your team, “We’ll get in, get the money and the information, and then pull out before anyone knows we’re here.” 

You scan your monitors for a moment, “You’re all clear,” You say, “And your timers start…now. Happy hunting.”

You press some buttons, so you’re able to watch over your entire crew and listen in on all of their conversations, but your part in the con is over. Well. At least until they get you the information they’re hunting for.

Thirty minutes later, the comms burst to life. “You need to get out of there!” One of the members of the crew hisses, “This was a set-up! They’re coming after you!”

“What? Me?” You ask, your voice pitching up in alarm.

“Yes! Get out!”

You scramble to your feet, and grab the computer, shoving it into your bag, and then you scramble all of the other computers with a few keystrokes, and you head to the front door.

You dart behind a wall as the door explodes in, and you silently move to the back of the safehouse. If you can get to a window, you’ll be home free.

You don’t make it to the window. As large men, with a lot of weapons, manage to surround you.

“Are you going to try and fight?” The man wearing the largest armor asks, his voice heavily modulated by his armor. And, judging by his armor, he’s the commander of the private security team of your team’s current mark.

You shrug one shoulder, “There are less painful ways to die,” You reply dryly.

“Hm. Smart,” The leader removes his helmet, revealing a Miralian man covered in scars, “What’s your name?”

At that, you just shrug. 

“Sir,” A second man says hurriedly, “I believe this is the infamous Blue Rose of Coruscant.”

“Is that right? Are you the Blue Rose?”

You shrug again, a small smirk playing on your lips.

He scowls at you, “Take her.”

The last thing you think as the butt of the rifle flies towards your face, is that Fox is going to be pissed.

When you come too, you’re tied to a chair. Your arms tied to the arms of the chair, and your legs bound to the legs of the chair. Your bag lay, unopened, on the table in front of you. 

And you have a pounding headache, and you’re pretty sure you’re bleeding. Or you had been, based on the amount of blood on your formerly white shirt.

“Ah, awake at last.” You cut your eyes over to the leader, who had decided that he was safe enough to remove all of his armor. “I apologize for my men, they were a little rougher than I intended.”

“Yes, you look all broken up about it.” You counter snarkily. 

“Hm. Tell me, where’s the rest of your crew?”

“What crew?” You ask.

“You expect me to believe that you’re doing all of this alone?” He asks, “I’m not stupid.”

“Agree to disagree,”

He sighs, and stands, “I didn’t want to have to do it this way.” He grabs his gloves and pulls them on, “Until you tell me what I want to know, I’m going to slowly break every bone in your body. Starting with your fingers.”

You say nothing. There’s nothing to say.

He sighs one more time and moves closer to you, and then there’s a loud crash from behind you. His gaze snaps away from you, and onto the door. “Your crew finally arrived, I take it.”

The door slams open behind you, “Not quite.” A very familiar voice drawls, “You see, we got a report that someone was being held hostage here, so naturally we had to investigate.”

You turn your head as best as you can, and see very familiar red armor. Tension drains from your shoulders, “Nice of you to join the party, Commander.” You say lightly.

He presses his hand against your shoulder, and squeezes gently. Several more members of the guard hurry into the room and take the Private Guard into custody for kidnapping. 

As soon as they were gone, Fox kneels and cuts the tape holding you to the chair, “Are you alright?” He asks.

“I have a headache, and I’m sure I’m going to hurt tomorrow.” You admit, “Thank you for coming.”

His gloved hand comes up and lightly brushes your cheek, “Yeah well, when your boss called and said that you were being held hostage, I couldn’t not come.” He pulls his helmet off and flashes a small smile up at you, “Tell me you have something that I can use to nail the bastard?”

You smile at him, “Of course I do.”

Fox’s eyes gleam with triumph, “This is why I didn’t fight so hard when you left the guard.” He gently helps you to your feet, “There’s a medic just outside, and then I’ll have Hound drive you home. Come on.”

One hour, and five stitches later, you’re home again, curled up on the couch in one of Fox’s old shirts and a pair of shorts, while you eat some ice cream and watch a holo.

The door to the apartment slides open with a quiet beep, “Welcome home, Fox.”

“Did you at least eat real food before you raided the ice cream?” Fox asks from the door, where he was peeling his armor off. “Also, how are you feeling?”

“Nope.” You reply. “I have a headache, but I can’t take any more medicine.”

He walks over and leans over the couch, pulling the ice cream and your spoon out of your hands, “Pizza?” Fox asks before he presses a light kiss to the top of your head.

“You’re the best.”

“I know I am.” Fox walks back to the kitchen and puts the ice cream away, “Order the pizza we like, please, cyare.” He says, “I need to take a shower.”

You hum in response, opening your datapad and slowly scrolling through the app to order the food that you both prefer. You only just hit the order button, when Fox returns from his shower, wearing low hanging sleep pants and nothing else.

He drops on the couch next to you, and turns his gaze on you, “You know we have to talk about today, cyare.”

You sigh, and turn to look at him, “Yeah. I know.”

“Come here,” You slide across the couch and carefully lay your head on his shoulder. His arm hooks around your waist and he effortlessly picks you up and sets you on his lap. “Are you okay?” Fox asks, as he folds his arms tightly around you.

You hum thoughtfully, “Being a hostage never gets easier, but I’m okay.”

He sighs and his grip tightens around you, “I wish I could tell you to quit that job, to do something, anything, else.”

“Hm. I often feel the same way about you and your job,” You point out lazily.

He glances at you, and then he smiles, “I think you like making me worry.” Fox counters.

“It is nice having someone around who cares.” You admit as you reach up and lightly brush your fingers against his cheek, and then slide your fingers back into his hair.

He stares at you for a moment, and you stare right back, a small smile on your lips.

“...do you have any idea how much I love you?” Fox asks quietly.

Your smile grows, “Enough to let a known thief move into your apartment.” You lean in slightly, “Enough that you came to save me when I was kidnapped.”

He shifts and one of his hands comes up to cup your face, his fingers lightly ghost over the bruise on your face, and his thumb runs across your lower lip. Fox’s gaze is locked on your lips, and you’re helpless to do anything but kiss his thumb.

He exhales slowly, “So.” Fox starts, “So, I was thinking.”

“Always dangerous.” You quip quietly, and he smiles at you, soft and gentle.

“I was thinking,” He repeats, “You know how we’ve been pretending to date so no one looks too hard at you living with me?”

“I do recall that, yes.” You reply with a laugh.

“I was thinking that maybe we could try dating, for real.” Fox says quietly, “You already sleep in my bed most nights anyway, and we do everything together when we’re not working-”

“Well, when you put it that way,” You say quietly, “The only difference is that we can kiss each other.”

“Yeah,” He shifts ever so slightly, and bumps his nose against yours, “And I really, really want to kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?” You ask lightly.

“I’m trying to be respectful, cyare.”

“Well, knock it off-” You’re barely able to finish your sentence before his lips are against yours. The kiss starts off slow, and hesitant, as though he’s not sure he’s actually allowed to do this, but when you don’t pull away, and you actually enthusiastically respond, he deepens the kiss.

You moan into the kiss, lightly carding your fingers through his hair, pulling a pleased groan from his throat. He tightly grips your hips and pulls you so that you’re straddling him, and pressed flush against him, and he manages that without breaking the kiss.

You feel as though you could keep kissing him all night, if he let you. And, by the way he keeps pressing himself against you, and the way his hands slide under your shirt, he isn’t all that inclined to ask you to stop.

And then the doorbell rings, and you break the kiss. “Our food is here,” You say, sounding slightly breathless.

“You should probably get that,” Fox replies, his hands flexing on your hips.

You shoot him an amused look, and extract yourself from his embrace, to head over to the door, “Will you get the plates and stuff out, please, Fox?”

He sighs and his head falls back against the couch, “Yeah, cyare. I’ll get right on that.” Fox turns and watches you for a moment, and a small smirk crosses his face.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

The Bezzle excerpt (Part II)

I'm on tour with my new novel The Bezzle! Catch me next in SALT LAKE CITY (Feb 21, Weller Book Works) and SAN DIEGO (Feb 22, Mysterious Galaxy). After that, it's LA, Seattle, Portland, Phoenix and more!

Today, I'm bringing you part two of this week's serialized excerpt from The Bezzle, my new Martin Hench high-tech crime revenge thriller:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

Though most of the scams that Hench – a two-fisted forensic accountant specializing in Silicon Valley skullduggery – goes after in The Bezzle have a strong tech component, this excerpt concerns a pre-digital scam: music royalty theft.

This is a subject that I got really deep into when researching and writing 2022's Chokepoint Capitalism – a manifesto for fixing creative labor markets:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

My co-author on that book is Rebecca Giblin, who also happens to be one of the world's leading experts in "copyright termination" – the legal right of creative workers to claw back any rights they signed over after 35 years:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/26/take-it-back/

This was enshrined in the 1976 Copyright Act, and has largely languished in obscurity since then, though recent years have seen creators of all kinds getting their rights back through termination – the authors of The Babysitters Club and Sweet Valley High Books, Stephen King, and George Clinton, to name a few. The estates of the core team at Marvel Comics, including Stan Lee, just settled a case that might have let them take the rights to all those characters back from Disney:

https://www.thewrap.com/marvel-settles-spiderman-lawsuit-steve-ditko/

Copyright termination is a powerful tonic to the bargaining disparities between creative workers. A creative worker who signs a bad contract at the start of their career can – if they choose – tear that contract up 35 years later and demand a better one.

Turning this into a plot-point in The Bezzle is the kind of thing that I love about this series – the ability to take important, obscure, technical aspects of how the world works and turn them into high-stakes technothriller storylines that bring them to the audience they deserve.

If you signed something away 35 years ago and you want to get it back, try Rights Back, an automated termination of tranfer tool co-developed by Creative Commons and Authors Alliance (whose advisory board I volunteer on):

https://rightsback.org/

All right, onto today's installment. Here's part one, published on Saturday:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/17/the-steve-soul-caper/#lead-singer-disease

It was on one of those drives where Stefon learned about copyright termination. It was 2011, and NPR was doing a story on the 1976 Copyright Act, passed the same year that was on the bottom of the document Chuy forged.

Under the ’76 act, artists acquired a “termination right”—­ that is, the power to cancel any copyright assignment after thirty-­five years, even if they signed a contract promising to sign away their rights forever and a day (or until the copyright ran out, which was nearly the same thing).

Listening to a smart, assured lady law professor from UC Berkeley explaining how this termination thing worked, Stefon got a wild idea. He pulled over and found a stub of a pencil and the back of a parking-­ticket envelope and wrote down the professor’s name when it was repeated at the end of the program. The next day he went to the Inglewood Public Library and got a reference librarian to teach him how to look up a UC Berkeley email address and he sent an email to the professor asking how he could terminate his copyright assignment.

He was pretty sure she wasn’t going to answer him, but she did, in less than a day. He got the email on his son’s smartphone and the boy helped him send a reply asking if he could call her. One thing led to another and two weeks later, he’d filed the paperwork with the U.S. Copyright Office, along with a check for one hundred dollars.

Time passed, and Stefon mostly forgot about his paperwork adventure with the Copyright Office, though every now and again he’d remember, think about that hundred dollars, and shake his head. Then, nearly a year later, there it was, in his mailbox: a letter saying that his copyright assignment had been canceled and his copyrights were his again. There was also a copy of a letter that had been sent to Chuy, explaining the same thing.

Stefon knew a lawyer—­well, almost a lawyer, an ex–­trumpet player who became a paralegal after one time subbing for Sly Stone’s usual guy, and then never getting another gig that good. He invited Jamal over for dinner and cooked his best pot roast and served it with good whiskey and then Jamal agreed to send a letter to Inglewood Jams, informing them that Chuy no longer controlled his copyrights and they had to deal with him direct from now on.

Stefon hand-­delivered the letter the next day, wearing his good suit for reasons he couldn’t explain. The receptionist took it without a blink. He waited.

“Thank you,” she said, pointedly, glancing at the door.

“I can wait,” he said.

“For what?” She reminded him of his boy’s girlfriend, a sophomore a year younger than him. Both women projected a fierce message that they were done with everyone’s shit, especially shit from men, especially old men. He chose his words carefully.

“I don’t know, honestly.” He smiled shyly. He was a good-­looking man, still. That smile had once beamed out of televisions all over America, from the Soul Train stage. “But ma’am, begging your pardon, that letter is about my music, which you all sell here. You sell a lot of it, and I want to talk that over with whoever is in charge of that business.”

She let down her guard by one minute increment. “You’ll want Mr. Gounder,” she said. “He’s not in today. Give me your phone number, I’ll have him call.”

He did, but Mr. Gounder didn’t call. He called back two days later, and the day after that, and the following Monday, and then he went back to the office. The receptionist who reminded him of his son’s girlfriend gave him a shocked look.

“Hello,” he said, and tried out that shy smile. “I wonder if I might see that Mr. Gounder.”

She grew visibly uncomfortable. “Mr. Gounder isn’t in today,” she lied. “I see,” he said. “Will he be in tomorrow?”

“No,” she said.

“The day after?”

“No.” Softer.

“Is that Mr. Gounder of yours ever coming in?”

She sighed. “Mr. Gounder doesn’t want to speak with you, I’m sorry.”

The smile hadn’t worked, so he switched to the look he used to give his bandmates when they wouldn’t cooperate. “Maybe someone can tell me why?”

A door behind her had been open a crack; now it swung wide and a young man came out. He looked Hispanic, with a sharp fade and flashy sneakers, but he didn’t talk like a club kid or a hood rat—­he sounded like a USC law student.

“Sir, if you have a claim you’d like Mr. Gounder to engage with, please have your attorney contact him directly.”

Stefon looked this kid up and down and up, tried and failed to catch the receptionist’s eye, and said, “Maybe I can talk this over with you. Are you someone in charge around here?”

“I’m Xavier Perez. I’m vice president for catalog development here. I don’t deal with legal claims, though. That’s strictly Mr. Gounder’s job. Please have your attorney put your query in writing and Mr. Gounder will be in touch as soon as is ­feasible.”

“I did have a lawyer write him a letter,” Stefon said. “I gave it to this young woman. Mr. Gounder hasn’t been in touch.”

Perez looked at the receptionist. “Did you receive a letter from this gentleman?”

She nodded, still not meeting Stefon’s eye. “I gave it to Mr. Gounder last week.”

Perez grinned, showing a gold tooth, and then, in his white, white voice, said, “There you have it. I’m sure Mr. Gounder will get back in touch with your counsel soon. Thank you for coming in today, Mr.—­”

“Stefon Magner.” Stefon waited a moment, then said, for the first time in many years, “I used to perform under Steve Soul, though.”

Perez nodded briskly. He’d known that. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Magner.” Without waiting for a reply, he disappeared back into his office.

ETA: Here's part three!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/19/crad-kilodney-was-an-outlier/#copyright-termination