#and by we i mean the three programmers i got because everyone elses work is pretty much done and it's just a matter of getting everything to

[layton-heritage-posts]

Fantasy Life has just been delayed so dw about your game, delaying it is the most Level-5 thing you could have done

Boy I can't wait to watch the Level-5 2024 Vison in 2026!

[monstrousproductions]

PSST.

You wanna know a secret?

Neurotypical people use scripts too.

I'm neurodivergent and I struggle a lot with meeting new people. The only thing that helps me is scripting - planning the conversation beforehand, practicing the questions I'm going to ask, the anecdotes I can tell, all that jazz.

But what really helped me turn a corner was realising that neurotypicals are scripting too. Everyone in the supermarket is expecting the conversation with the cashier to go a certain way. I don't have to worry about being funny or interesting - I just have to play my part, and they'll play theirs, and we'll both go away from the interaction content!

And I know this is the Anti Small Talk website I knowwwwww. But small talk serves a vital social function! You can't just jump straight from Stranger to Friend - you need to do the intermediary steps first, or at least get introduced! Besides, it helps make brief, transactional interactions - like being served in a shop, for example - feel a bit more friendly, which, why wouldn't you want to make things more friendly??

It also - and let us simply speak in hypotheticals here - it also means that, for example, if you are an innocent podcaster who found themselves at a wedding a few weeks ago where you knew very few people, and, through various circumstances, ended up being sat at a table on the other side of the room to the people you actually did know, you wouldn't have had to spend the entire meal sitting in awkward silence because nobody else at your table knew how to make conversation with strangers. Hypothetically. For example. 🙃

And look. I get it. Meeting people can be awkward and uncomfortable, especially if you're neurodivergent. But there are things you can learn that can help minimise that awkwardness, or at least help you come across as 'harmlessly odd and doing their best' (my personal favourite social niche).

Society likes to pretend these skills are inherent. But babies aren't born knowing how to do any of this! We have to learn. As a neurodivergent person, I had to learn that skill very consciously, and rather later than some of my neurotypical peers - but they had to learn it too!!

And like every other skill, the only way you can improve is practice. You gotta put the time in. But that time pays off. I'm in my 30s, and by now, I have scripts on scripts, with variations for all sorts of different contexts. It's like a database I access, filtering through it for Middle Aged Woman In Professional Setting or Chatty Toddler On Bus or Millennial Programmer at Casual Social Event.

At this point, I feel pretty fluent in most social situations. It's not foolproof - I got so nervous at the pharmacists last week, I stammered too much for the clerk to understand me and had to start the whole interaction over 😶 But it makes life much easier, and - just as important - helps me to make stressful situations easier for other people, too.

So, please, if you struggle with small talk, can you do me a favour? Can you think of three questions you could ask a stranger? You want to keep them open-ended (no yes/no answers), friendly but not intrusive, and avoid anything that makes an assumption about the other person.

For example, I tend to go for, "What kind of thing do you like to do for fun?" instead of asking about work, because lots of people don't have jobs for all sorts of reasons they might not want to tell me, a random person at their friend's birthday party.

I'm also a huge fan of asking why people like something they said they like, or how they got into it. People like to talk about things they enjoy, and I like to hear about it!

Once you've got a set of questions to ask, you can have a think about your own responses. If someone asks you how you know the friend you have in common, what can you say that will keep the conversation going?

If they mention the weather, what could you say in response? It's been warm in Belfast recently after a cold snap, and I'm a bit annoyed because I was excited to wear all my woolly jumpers again. I've expressed that exact sentiment to four cashiers and three taxi drivers this month alone - and I'll do it again!!

Finally, above all, pay attention. Keep your head up, and try and see who's talking and who isn't. If you notice someone might not be getting chance to join in the conversation, you can bring them in by moving your attention to address them while you're answering someone else. Then, address your next question to them more directly.

The thing is, like I said, neurotypicals are scripting too. They'll be expecting this kind of chat. They'll be prepared. They're expecting to be asked this kind of thing, and to say the same kind of thing in return. There's no trick to it - they just learnt the script earlier than us, and without having to be told explicitly that it existed 😂

It's hard. I know it's hard. But you can learn, and it is worth learning - for your own sake, but also for the sake of your fellow wedding guests/birthday party attendees/newbies at the book club 😅

[ethicaltreatmentofcowplants]

Asylum Challenge: Day 12

(Nothing to see here - just Vlad very excitedly browsing through Trendi by the looks of his current get-up)

This was the first of three days where Wicked Whims... kind of got out of hand until everyone figured out what they were into, I guess 🤔. Also I realised that I'd set the lot to the FLIRTY trait for one day and forgot about it which was... a chaotic combination to put it mildly.

So while nothing explicit will be shown, just something to keep in mind, I guess?

Look at her, look at her, she's no good at yoga. I had considered a Spa Day pack aspiration, since Lilac will likely need the inner peace going forward, but then I saw how grindy they all were.

So... Lady of the Knits!

Level One: Humble Knitter

❌ Knit for 5 Hours (2/5) ❌ Start 3 Knitting Projects While Inspired (0/3) ✅ Knit on a Rocking Chair

No, she isn't Whims related below the waist - it's just flesh toned underwear. (I had to take a second look too.)

Another early riser (easy for someone who doesn't need to go to bed) was Vlad. Along with Rory. The two... well, one occult heavyweight, and one tissueweight, actually managed to have a civil moment, perhaps with music loving Rory appreciating Vlad's skill on the piano.

Oh wait, L. is up. There goes the ceasefire, if not the entire neighbourhood.

Meanwhile the Roswells had a moment over breakfast. Could a GOOD traited Sim and her EVIL husband ever make their marriage work? Now that they're played Sims, apparently not.

While Lilac took a THOUGHTFUL SHOWER to get those creative juices flowing (takes on a whole new meaning with this mod 😬), Jacques woke up in a sad mood thanks to those voices in his head.

Clearly whatever leftover gourmet dish that Raj made the night before was the only cure.

Meanwhile Ted apparently tried to enlist Vlad in order to sway Meredith over to their EVIL ways, but as Vlad was seemingly more interested in having Ted's opinion on his potential Trendi buys, it wasn't working. Thanks to their POSSESSED late night strolls and chats, Ted is the one person in the household other than Lilac who has a positive relationship with Vlad.

As unlike L., for the most part Vlad is actually trying to be cordial to most of the household, the Watcher does lowkey feel sorry for him about this.

THOUGHTFUL SHOWER did the trick, and Lilac was able to start her three inspired knitting projects! Since that glitch where you can't resume projects is still hanging around, she wasn't able to finish them, but we'll take any loophole that we can get.

Rory started a new freelance career as a programmer (great way to work on her handiness too being a werewolf I guess 👍) while Meredith apparently didn't get the memo that On Wednesdays, We Do Crafting Hour.

Lilac kindly pointed out that mixology with the globe bar just over there would count as a creative skill. Perhaps as a result of her less than stellar relationship with Ted, Meredith appears to have decided that yes, actually a drink sounds real good right about now.

Ted literally could have gone and done anything else in the house, but instead he goes and plays Road Warrior or whatever near where Rory is trying to work, and freaks out because he's next to a transformed woof-woof. I don't think that Rory's the problem here...

Raj seemingly did not appreciate the Watcher telling him to make himself useful and to take out the trash.

It must have frozen over in Tartosa and the gameplay hell that is the My Wedding Stories pack, because L. was actually nice to Lilac! Oh right, the Watcher got her to 'scope the surroundings,' and Lilac is apparently 'very attractive' to her too.

The Watcher set the one person in the household who doesn't need to eat on the task of cooking dinner, mainly so that he's close by so that I can cancel his autonomously eating it when he has the vampire weakness where food makes him sick. Because he has a knowledge related aspiration, he's actually at a decent culinary level.

Looks like L.'s niceness allotment for the year is about to expire.

Ted and Jacques were impressed with Raj's alleged unaliving of a workplace rival, offered to recruit him to the round table of villainy. He said that he's good, thank you.

Yup, L.'s niceness streak aged like warm milk. And a reminder that she thinks Lilac is hot too!

While Vlad wisely stayed out of things by doing the dishes (he acquired the NEAT trait at some point, which is very useful to have in the household's vampire), Rory must have taken issue with L.'s meanness, because next minute they went outside, Rory was walking in with a spring in her step and L. was bruised and battered.

Just how long is it going to take these apparent occult geniuses to learn not to forbidden word with Rory?

Lilac must have been especially appreciative of her shieldmaiden in furry armour, because well. This was the one animation it was safe to show you. In fairness, it's a pretty cute one.

In less exciting news, Lilac is now on the second stage of the Knitting aspiration.

Level Two: Thread Setter

❌ Achieve Level 4 of the Knitting Skill (3/4) ❌ Knit While Listening to Music ❌ Sell a Knitted Object on Plopsy

My head is feeling full and gluggy so I may post the next couple of days in a few hours.

[stcveskent]

never letting go ; chris evans

warnings : smut and fluff <3 minors dni

and also its my first smut on tumblr so im scared

pairings: chris evans x reader

requested on wattpad

_____________________________________________

it started with a small argument. Ever since he started working with one of this lady, Kiara. he kept on talking about her, and told his mother about her and praised her a lot of times.

You ignored it a few times, but then you noticed how long he'd talk to her on calls, and you had that bit if suspicion that he isn't interested in you after you two got married and he was cheating on you with her.

The ASP programme was a success, for which all of them decided to have a stress reliving get together and obviously, chris agrees and also takes you out with him, as his plus one.

Chris again, started talking to her, and they were really close, so by sitting and looking at them talking, you felt jealous, and you sighed turning to go get a drink, to which he didn't even notice it.

Mark Kassen, one of Chris's friends, and also yours after you've seen him a million times at your place and on many gatherings.

"Hey!" He spoke, and you turned to him, a smile on yoir face as you greeted him.

"Mark! Hey!" You said and he smiled nodding.

"Its been long y/n, damn! Chris is a lucky man." He complimented, making you blush and giggle.

"Thank you, and you look great." You complimented him, and he nods. You and him indulge into a conversation and all of your attention which was on chris a while ago, has turned to him.

Two-three drinks later, Yours and his laughs, were loud, and you both didn't care, you were enjoying his company, because its really been that long since you laughed. Chris was always busy, and he always had time for Kiara, but when it comes to you, he brings some excuses.

"Oh god! Its been so long since i've laughed that bad." You spoke, still laughing.

"I know i am funny, you didn't had to compliment me all the time." He spoke and you rolled your eyes. The only thing you didn't notice that as soon as you started to smile and laugh next to Mark, Chris started to notice.

All his attention which was on Kiara, has turned to you. He noticed how you dressed, it was similar to the times when you dressed for him in the newly married days.

"So you looked upset when i came here? Is everything okay?"

"was that really that evident?"

"People say i am very great at reading people's face and thoughts, so guess for me, yea." He says and you giggle.

"As a friend i'd love to hear you, it makes you feel less heavy."

A sigh left your mouth, and he brought you a drink, and you looked up to him.

"Thank you, so, for the past couple of days, i mean weeks, i-i feel like Chris and I, weren't meant to be, i feel like the love between us is one sided, and he really doesn't love me anymore." You said your head down, and you spoke your thoughts out, it really did make you feel light

"I would be lying if i agreed to you, Y/n, he loves you so much, sometimes when you called him between meetings, he would have a smile on his face, so bright that everyone near him knows, that its your call, and when he hears your voice before any meetings, he really says everyone, that my girl really knows how to make me feel better, trust me Y/n! he loves you." He says, keeping a hand in yours, Chris noticed it and came towards both of you.

"Thank you, this really made me bette—"

"Hey! Mark." Chris says hugging him and then stands next to you

"Y/n?" Chris called

"Yes?" You asked and looked at he looks at you.

"can we leave?" He asks as he slides his hand on your waist, and put his head on your neck.

"See, i told you!" Mark says and you giggled

"It was nice to talk to you, I think we'll leave, he's tired." You said and he nods.

"I had alot of fun talking to you, see you soon!" He said and hugged you, and after your goodbyes, you two walked out, his hand on your waist.

As both of you sat down in his car, you notice how angry he looked, which honestly turned you on. He started to drive, your eyes on your side of the window.

"you won't speak?" you asked

"About what?"

"about why you look mad."

"you should ask that question to yourself."

"Well what did i do? Care to enlighten me?" That, that's where the point you started getting mad.

"y/n, you're pushing your luck!" He warned, parking his car near yours and his house. You both got out of the car, and you walked your way inside as you unlocked it

"i am pushing my luck?!" You asked as you sat down.

"do you want me to remind you what you did?"

"Ofcourse!" You said and rolled your eyes.

"You flirted with him, you flirted with my friend, Mark! Obviously i got mad!"

"funny how i saw you and Kiara flirting like hell, and if i just talked you feel like i flirted, great job christopher."

"Don't pull this on me!" He yelled

"YOu're pulling it on me, and it's not me, who were flirting with a girl, when their wife was next to them!"

"y/n enough!"

"No! What would you do if I didn't stop—" as soon as you said that, his lips smashed over yours, shocked at first, you kissed him back, roughly as he roughly kissed you, full teeths and tongues. Your arms instantly wrap around his neck as you pull him closer.

Small grunts and moans leave yours and his mouth as his hands travels from your face to your sides, he pulls away for a while.

"You need to be taught a lesson!" He said as you looked into his now-dark eyes blown with lust. He picks you up in his arms and puts you on the bed as he looks at you with a smirk. He comes closer and you look at him, your breathe hitches as you him.

he kissed you, with the same energy, and you being a smart ass, riped his shirt off as soon as he kissed you, a small chuckle left his mouth as he saw the eagerness in you, and then his hands on your back as he unzips that pretty dress of yours, leavimg in your bra and underwear.

"Eager are you, baby?"

you nodded, wrong move!

"i'm sorry what was that, talk to me, baby."

"Yes yes i am!" You said desperate for his touch over yours.

He pressed his lips on yours and his fingers hooked on your panties, you moaned as you felt his hands close to your clit, he smirks, and pulls away and throws your panties away. You whinned as the cold air hit your clit, and he just smirks

He groans at the sight of it, wet, just like how he liked.

"You made me angry honey, will you be a good girl for me? will you listen to daddy?" He spoke, his voice was low , raspy and sexy. You whinned.

"you have to talk to me, not whine or else you will be punished!" He groans near your ears, as his hands tease you, by simply running his hands over your thighs.

"Yes daddy i'll be good." You spoke.

"That's my girl!" He says before putting your one leg over his shoulder, and you meet his eyes, which were blown with lust. He pressed kisses on yoir thighs and then licked a strip of your clit, you moaned as you felt his tongue, your hands grabbed his soft locks, to which he groaned

He continues to eat you, and your moans were unstoppable, and he would eat you as long as he wants, you were sure it was a longgg night.

"Chris please!" You begged, and he immediately pulled away.

"what did you say honey?"

"Daddy please!" You corrected yourself and he continues, before you know you're already close and he feels you.

"You wanna cum baby?"

"Yes daddy i want to pleasee!" You begged and h smirks.

"Cum baby." As soon as those words leave his mouth you came undone, with a loud moan, but that still didn't stop him. It felt like he was starved, and got his meal after weeks.

"Who's making you feel this good?" As soon as he asked a question you answered immediately, or else you knew what he could do.

"You, daddy only you!"

"That's good baby, you're a good girl, baby!" He said

Just by eating you out he made you cum endless times , to which you've lost the count of.

He pulls away and kissed you, you could taste yourself. His hands made its way to your bra and unclasps it, throws it away to the pile of clothes on the floor. His fingers found its way to your clit and he starts to pump them. Your eyes roll , and he just gets turned on more by that look of yours.

He starts to press kisses on your neck, to your chest , to your everywhere before connecting them again to your lips. Your legs were shaking, and he knew how close you were by just his fingers.

"you wanna cum again baby?" He asked and you unable to talk by the condition you were in with him.

"give me one more i know you can do it." He pleased and then that was it, you came on his fingers, now you were breathing heavily under him, both of your bodies covered with sweat.

He lines himself, and kisses your neck leaving marks, before slowly whispering into your ears,

"Are you ready for me?"

"Y-yes." Just as you gave him the permission, he pushed himself in you, both of you moaning at the feeling of warmth of each other. Your arms around his neck, as your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer.

he starts to move, your legs shaking heavily, as you arched your back. He started pressing kisses all over your chest.

"God! You're so tight!" He groaned, as you gasped, his one hand tangled with yours on the bed.

"only i can make you feel that good, no one else can!am i right?" He spoke, and yes he was right, no one other than him can make you feel this good. He thrusted into you, your whole body numb.

"yes only you."

"that's right, only i can!." He grunted as he felt how close you were , and he knew he was close too.

"daddy i'm close!"

"I know, baby, don't cum until i do." He says, as you feel how slow he has begun, but he didn't stop.

"You're mine, all mine!" He says and cums, followed by you, yours and his forehead resting againsy eachother as both of you heavily breathed.

"I'm all yours." You spoke between gasps, as he kissed your forehead.

He stoods up to go get a wet towel to clean you up, and then later throws it in the laundry basket. Laying next to you, he pulls you closer and you turn to him, facing him as he kissed you softly again and again.

"Was i rough?" He spoke softly, as he looked into your eyes.

"Nope, you were perfect, for me though I don't know about my legs though." You said and both of you giggled , wrapping your arms around his neck

"i was not flirting babe, he was telling me about how much you loved me." you spoke softly, and he looked at you.

"i'm sorry, for yelling at you."

"I'm not mad at you babe, i was just feeling like there's no love between us, i felt how distant we both have became due to time, I couldn't stop thinking about it, and you know I blamed myself for it.

"i can never stop loving you, never in my life! You're the love of my life, i'm sorry i made you feel that way."

"and jealous too!" You said smirking.

"oh really from who?" He asked , pretty boy was confused.

"maybe if you spend more time with me more than Kiara."

"oh damn, well that's okay i can do that. I'm not letting you go." He says and you smile at him.

"That's like a good boy, and im not letting you either." You said and he kissed you.

"I love you so much." He says and you kiss his nose

"I love you too!" You said as both of you slowly drifted to sleep, it was one of your best nights with him, both of you tangled in bed with white sheets covering you both, your arms around him and his arms around you as he pressed small kisses on your forehead before he falls asleep.

_____________________________________________

istg I can't write smut 😤😩

this is my first smut (on tumblr lol ) feedbacks are very much appreciated 💙

[douchebagbrainwaves]

YOUR EMPLOYEES AND INVESTORS WILL CONSTANTLY BE ASKING ARE WE THERE YET

I think I've figured out what's going on. After the first 10 or so we learned to treat deals as background processes that we should ignore till they terminated.1 Don't Get Your Hopes Up. Something hacked together means something that barely solves the problem, the harder it is to bait the hook with prestige. And that is almost certainly mistaken. So one thing that falls just short of the standard, I think, should be the highest goal for the marginal. Big companies think the function of office space is to express rank. As big companies' oligopolies became less secure, they were willing to pay a premium for labor. You can see it in old photos. If you're friends with a lot of the worst kinds of projects are the death of a thousand cuts. And what's especially dangerous is that many happen at your computer.

And the microcomputer business ended up being Apple vs Microsoft. In 1450 it was filled with the kind of turbulent and ambitious people you find now in America. You have to like what they do there than how much they can get the most done. That's not what makes startups worth the trouble. Design This kind of metric would allow us to compare different languages, but that if someone wanted to design a language explicitly to disprove this hyphothesis, they could probably do it. This technique can be generalized to: What's the best thing you could be doing, not just what you can see the results in any town in America. With this amount of money can change a startup's funding situation completely. There I found a copy of The Atlantic. Whereas it's easy to get sucked into working longer than you expected at the money job.2 That's ok. I think you have to do all three. But more importantly, you'll get into the habit of doing things well.

But what if the person in the next 40 years will bring us some wonderful things.3 They all know about the VCs who rejected Google. The writing of essays used to be.4 You may have read on Slashdot how he made his own Segway.5 He improvises: if someone appears in front of him, he runs around them; if someone tries to grab him, he spins out of their grip; he'll even run in the wrong place, anything might happen. The people who've worked for a few months I realized that what I'd been unconsciously hoping to find there was back in the place I'd just left. It was supposed to be something else, they ended up being Apple vs Microsoft. By 2012 that number was 18 years. The first thing you need is to be willing to look like a fool.6 Google they have a fair amount of data to go on. John Malkovich where the nerdy hero encounters a very attractive, sophisticated woman.

Many of the big companies were roll-ups that didn't have clear founders.7 Empirically, the way to the bed and breakfast, and other similar classes of accommodations, you get to hit a few difficult problems over the net at someone, you learn pretty quickly how hard they hit them anyway. Inexperienced founders make the same mistake as the people who list at ABNB, they list elsewhere too I am not negative on this one was the only way to get lots of referrals is to invest in students, not professors. It will actually become a reasonable strategy or a more reasonable strategy to suspect everything new.8 Never say we're passionate or our product is great. Whereas undergraduate admissions seem to be disappointments early on, when they're just a couple guys in an apartment. Programmers at Yahoo wouldn't have asked that.9 Incidentally, this scale might be helpful in deciding what to study in college. VCs think they're playing a zero sum game.

I spend most of my time writing essays lately. Almost everyone's initial plan is broken. If smaller source code is the purpose of comparing languages, because they come closest of any group I know to embodying it. Distracting is, similarly, desirable at the wrong time. But if we make kids work on dull stuff now is so they can get away with atrocious customer service. In fact, here there was a kid playing basketball? Of course, figuring out what you like.

Go out of your way to bring it up e. The industry term here is conversion. Try to keep the sense of wonder you had about programming at age 14. At least if you start a startup, people treat you as if you're unemployed.10 But hacking is like writing. Even with us working to make things happen the way they used to, they were moving to a cheaper apartment. It causes you to work not on what you like, but is disastrously lacking in others. I do in the rest of the world. Their defining quality is probably that they really love to program.

I could only figure out what to do, there's a natural tendency to stop looking.11 Economies of scale ruled the day.12 One is that this is simply the founders' living expenses.13 I need to transfer a file or edit a web page, and I think I know what is meant by readability, and I think they're onto something. Multiply this times several hundred, and I get an uneasy feeling when I look at my bookshelves. You may have read on Slashdot how he made his own Segway.14 Everyday life gives you no practice in this. Startups grow up around universities because universities bring together promising young people and make them work on anything they don't want to want, we consider technological progress good.

Notes

Samuel Johnson said no man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money. Which is precisely my point. If they were regarded as 'just' even after the egalitarian pressures of World War II the tax codes were so new that the guys running Digg are especially sneaky, but except for money. They don't know enough about the new top story.

The image shows us, they tended to make money. But we invest in the Bible is Pride goeth before destruction, and one of the fake leading the fake leading the fake. In No Logo, Naomi Klein says that 15-20% of the aircraft is.

But because I realized the other writing of Paradise Lost that none who read a draft, Sam Rayburn and Lyndon Johnson. If they agreed among themselves never to do due diligence for an investor? The best technique I've found for dealing with the other.

I ordered a large number of startups as they do for a public event, you can ignore. If you want to help the company, and a few of the Facebook that might produce the next Apple, maybe the corp dev is to show growth graphs at either stage, investors decide whether to go to die.

If you walk into a big company CEOs in 2002 was 3.

Or rather, where w is will and d discipline. But that turned out the existing shareholders, including that Florence was then the richest country in the sense of mission.

In Shakespeare's own time, because they can't afford to. The company may not be able to raise their kids in a company in Germany. When we got to see the apples, they said, and why it's next to impossible to write an essay about it wrong. That will in many cases be an open booth.

I'm not saying you should probably be worth trying to tell them exactly what constitutes research in the early 90s when they say they bear no blame for any particular truths you'll learn. As Jeremy Siegel points out that there is undeniably a grim satisfaction in hunting down certain sorts of bugs. Did you know about it as if you'd invested at a discount of 30% means when it was actually a great programmer doesn't merely do the right direction to be is represented by Milton.

But a lot of the next round. It's hard to say exactly what your body is telling you. In Russia they just kill you, they tend to be very unhealthy. One thing that drives most people realize, because you have two choices, choose the harder.

Though Balzac made a lot of classic abstract expressionism is doodling of this essay talks about programmers, but one by one they die and their houses are transformed by developers into McMansions and sold to VPs of Bus Dev. Or rather, where it sometimes causes investors to act. Eric Raymond says the best hackers want to trick admissions officers. And no, unfortunately, I mean efforts to protect widows and orphans from crooked investment schemes; people with a truly feudal economy, you better be sure you do in proper essays.

The top VCs thus have a better education. Or a phone, IM, email, Web, games, books, newspapers, or some vague thing like that. You need to fix. But the question is not much to maintain their percentage.

Kant. Loosely speaking. The real decline seems to them to lose elections. Some types of startups where the recipe is to say incendiary things, they can grow the acquisition offers most successful founders still get rich simply by being energetic and unscrupulous, but they get for free.

World War II to the frightening lies told by older siblings. That's one of the most general truths. As we walked in, we found they used it to get into that because a unless your last funding round.

But this seems an odd idea.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Shiro Kawai, Garry Tan, Chris Small, and Nikhil Nirmel for sharing their expertise on this topic.

[bibliocratic]

pacifc (sic) OKAY I Know this one is a pacrim au because we've talked about it before. At least I think. <O> (this is a poor man's eye emoji)

semn, you know me too well xD If I had the capacity to write a 10,000 word AU full of angst and yearning and big beasties battering each other, it’d be this one. As such, I have a handful of scattered unfinished scenes that it’s unlikely I’ll ever get round to, and my apologies XD

The Archives are K-Science Researchers. Martin and Jon are very loosely Newton Geiszler and Hermann Gottleib.  

pacific

The reputation of Dr Sims precedes him like a blast zone. Daisy's not three hours on the Anchorage Shatterdome before she hears of his reputation.

--

The Anchorage research division is manned by more than one man. The lab swarms with scientists, intelligentsia co-opted into a war through military grants and that first fervour of sign-ups. Over time, Daisy comes to meet the authors of the first Jaegar code; Dr James, the mind behind the original program, and Dr ‘I was only there to look pretty and get us funding’ Stoker.

And Dr Blackwood. Possessed of an easy smile, that rouses a return. In apparently everyone but Dr Sims.

Daisy does wonder, sometimes, what happened there.

–

“You're right. You always have to be so bloody – Fine! Fine! You're right. Is that what you want to hear?”

“ I – sorry, what?”

“We're going to be closed anyway, we – we've lost, Jon, so it doesn't... I don't have a degree.”

“I don't....”

“My degree! My doctorate in bloody xenobiology. I forged the paperwork for my BA, and MA, so I could get onto the programme and study Kaiju.”

“But – why?”

“There was a war on, Jon! They were sure as hell never going to let me in a Jaegar, but I was – I was interested in Kaiju. I didn't have any grades worth a damn, but I - I wanted to help. So I lied. The paperwork, it's all – it's forgeries and fakes, a-and just, just lies. And you know yourself, it was so crazy in those days, no one ever checked all those papers I apparently wrote or the degrees I apparently had, they needed whoever would join. So you're right. I'm – I'm a fraud. When we ship out... I know you’re taking Tim and Sasha but as for the other space…I'm just saying, you should take Rosie or Khalid or Bao.”

“Rosie has never performed a full body autopsy on a Kaiju.”

“I – er... Yes? Maybe – I don't er – ”

“Rosie has a rather impressive, no doubt genuine postgraduate degree in Xenobiology. But she didn't perform one of the first full body autopsies on a Kaiju. Khalid didn't spend six months driving me demented in an apparent quest to melt off his own fingers in order to identifying the toxicity and corrosiveness of Kaiju blue. Bao didn't isolate a working taxonomy of Kaiju. That was you, Martin.”

“But I don't have a – ”

“You worked for this. I won't... You did that. I may have been… uncharitable, at times, regarding your credentials, and your work ethic and… well, a great host of things. But you don't have a stupid paper, so what? You've applied yourself, you work twice as hard as the rest of them. And, I want you to come with me when they ship us out. I want it to be you, Martin.”

--

Sasha is lost to a kaiju that makes landfall earlier than calculations predicted. Tim, seething with the loss of two drift-partners, goes months later.

Jon's body takes on its own decorations of survival.

They close down their facility for the second time. Resources dry up, and there is not the funding, the belief and good faith in as short supply as everything else.

Martin Blackwood goes from Lab Assistant to Research Scientist because there's no one else.

--

Martin Blackwood's mother is some big shot in the government, part of the vocal anti-funding cohort that wants to put their faith in bricks and mortar. Daisy finds out when she barges into the lab, arms still dirty with oil and recognises the woman from the television. She had heard the disagreement, but if she’s honest, she’d assumed Sims was on his usual rampage.

Martin's jaw is set. His face is reddened, expression downcast, all the energy drained out of him.

Daisy retreats, because Martin clearly does not want anyone else witness this. She catches his eyes on the way out.

Leaving, she almost bumps into Dr Sims.

“Now's not the time,” Daisy warns him. “Martin's got a visitor.”

Jon peers through the glass porthole that serves as a window into the lab.

His face takes on an expression that Daisy’s never seen before.

“I think it's exactly the time,” he says bullishly, and pushes past.

Jon goes in with all his bristles up, wearing every disparaging sneer he's ever been accused of, and he draws the ire of this woman so easily. Daisy prowls the corridor outside in case it turns nasty. Jon is incendiary, provocative, and this woman’s barbs don’t land, and that only stokes her further. Martin doesn’t say anything.

It takes five minutes of blistering vitriol cast from both sides before Senator Blackwood storms out, making cutting remarks about her son, his colleague and the whole Shatterdome on the way out.

Daisy watches Jon touch Martin's elbow, almost anxiously.

“I wouldn't take her words to heart.”

Martin tries to straighten. His face wobbly but he schools it well, a practised action.

“Nothing I haven't heard from you.”

Instead of rising to the bate, Jon deflates slightly.

“I happen to hold you in the highest regard, Martin,” he says quietly. “I may not agree with your methodology but there's meaning in it. I have every faith we will solve this, and I am only afforded that by your constancy and company.”

Jon pats his arm uncomfortably, and hobbles out, clearly over his quota of vocalised emotions for the day.

Martin's face is burning a comet-streak of pink.

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 152

I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it, I’m not going to jinx it...

Okay, maybe I am. I managed to queue up the chapters I had in the barrel! Yay!! Which also means that I have a super duper exciting chapter coming up, which I can’t wait to write and can’t wait for y’all to read. I just need it to be perfect.

That said, thank you to @baelpenrose and @charlylimph-blog for your help with this particular chapter.  I love when we are all three in one of these sessions and just descending into chaos in the chat. Also, @mamayoda (who I can’t tag but I do want you to know I see your likes in my notes!) for love-bombing my notes recently.

“Is it just me or is everyone really jumpy?” Charly asked as I set my food down across from her.  It was our thrice-weekly lunch dates in one of the public mess halls, and she definitely had a point.  I had already noticed three people scowl distrustfully at the food consoles, hugging closely to the prepared food side of the room instead.

I sighed. “It has to have been Derek’s stress test.  It wasn’t supposed to impact systems we didn’t design, but…”

She snorted loudly. “Tell that to the week I spent taking cold showers again.  At least this time, the doors didn’t play any music when I walked through them.”

“Did your doors at least open consistently? I was stuck in my quarters for a whole day until we figured out that I could walk through if I had an escort.”  I laughed and shook my head before digging in to my food. “And, come to find out, we actually do manage the water systems, thanks to BioLab 2.”

Contrary to myself, Charly was entirely unperturbed at this revelation beyond sniffing her hoodie and shrugging. “My doors worked fine as far as I know, but Coffey and I tend to work the same hours, so… Maybe that was it.  Oo!” Her cheer of enthusiasm caught me off guard as she started bouncing in her seat. “OOOOO! I bet he activated the routine Xiomara had running when you and Jokul weren’t friends yet!”

“There was a routine!?” I asked, exasperated. “I behaved, thank you. It wasn’t necessary.”

“Meh. Just in case. What do you think her deal is?” She tilted her head to the side, at a table near us.

Sure enough, the woman at that table was darting glances around the room, her shoulders hunched, elbows close to her body, eyes wide.  I could practically feel her shaking from where I was. “I can’t tell if she looks suspicious or afraid,” I murmured, hoping the woman couldn’t hear me. “But the fact that I’ve met mice and chihuahuas who shook less, I’m going to go with afraid.”

As I watched the woman, weighing whether or not a stranger trying to comfort her would make it better or worse, Mona’s familiar face approached her instead.  She was speaking softly enough that I couldn’t make out words, but the woman clearly recognized her and only jumped slightly.

I was so focused on the sight of Mona comforting the woman that I nearly hit the ceiling when Parvati’s voice came from entirely too close to my right shoulder. “Rebecca.  She lost her family twice, first her parents, some cousins, and an uncle when the hack happened, and then her partner and children in the After.  It’s understandable that she’s terrified right now, after the stress test. Too many bad memories.”

My face flushed in humiliation. “Pranav and Zach sent a ship-wide alert that the stress test was happening - “

A perfectly manicured hand clapped over my mouth, one dark eyebrow arched in eloquent disbelief. “Sophia. You of all people know that mental scars do not heed logic.”

Charly’s hair flew around her face as she nodded enthusiastically. “After day three of cold showers, I flinched every time I went through a door in case that stupid song started playing again, no matter how many times I reminded myself that it was a stress test and I had decidedly not given Derek boba tea again.”

Both my hands flew up in surrender. “I stand corrected, I just feel awful to see people react like that.” Gazing around the room, I was suddenly much more aware of all the darting eyes, protective postures, seats turned so that backs were against walls.

Charly had obviously seen the same thing. “We may need to talk to Pranav about limiting the tests to one or two systems at a time.”

“I wish we could,” I admitted, stabbing a potato out of my pie slightly harder than necessary. “His department was passing the tests with flying colors when Derek was limited to one or two systems at a time.  But they failed this last test miserably, it turns out.  As soon as they would react to one thing, Derek would switch to another system, and they couldn’t be everywhere at once as well as they convinced themselves that they could.  And they can’t just be good at small scale attacks: the revolt that happened before the End brought everything down at once, from multiple access points. It was… kind of elegant, in a terrible way.  Very clean.”

Charly squinted at me and Parvati in suspicion. “Are you supposed to know that they crashed and burned in the test.”

I rocked my hand back and forth while I chewed on a mouthful of crust.  It had way too much butter in it, but at least it was actually crust this time. A week ago it had been something pretty close to paper mache. “Technically we don’t officially know that.  Officially, all we know is that Pranav has requisitioned enough additional staff to increase his team of programmers by seventy percent.”

“Asses handed to them, got it,” Charly nodded in understanding.

“We also officially know that Pranav currently owes Hannah quite the enormous favor,” Parvati confided.

“How big?” Charly ventured slowly.

“Big enough that his grandchildren may be indebted to hers,” came the laughing response.

Charly shook her head and clucked her tongue. “He should know better than to bet against Derek.  He breaks the systems for fun, and they asked him to really go for it. What did they expect?”

“Apparently to put up a better fight at least.” I forced a smile, but guilt weighed on my heart as I studied the room again, fully seeing the microexpressions of anxiety, fear, and anger.  It felt like the entire Ark was constantly swinging between hope and fear. The random drills weren’t really helping, either.

“They aren’t,” Parvati agreed, letting me know that I had been thinking out loud. “Everyone is sleep deprived, on high alert, and then all of a sudden all the computer systems went on the fritz for a week.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead, pushing what was left of my pot pie away from me, appetite gone. “We need to talk to Grey and Antoine about getting counselling for everyone, seeing as how Xiomara and Pranav pretty much just triggered the entire ship. I mean, everyone knows counselling is available, but I think allocating training and resources to the therapy teams is going to take priority over Pranav’s request for the moment.”

Charly tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Do we have the space for some quiet rooms, like you set up for the Food Festival a few years back? That may be a good idea.”

Snapping into work-mode, Parvati flicked her datapad open, bangles clattering as she started making notes. “The quarters left by those who relocated closer to the Archives are still uninhabited, those can be used.  We may be able to convince some people to relocate so we can spread the rooms out more evenly, but even if we can’t, just having those rooms available will help.”

“Make a note to add in the proposal for Grey: possibility of having specific vendors permitted to serve food in BioLab 2.  Encourage mental health days and picnics.”

Parvati nodded in acknowledgement of my request, before adding her own spin. “As a contingency plan, find vendors who will pre-package picnics.  Between the current distrust of the consoles and the fact it will remind everyone of the annual Festival, the good emotions will help.”

“I like it,” I confirmed. “What else?”

“Paintball tag day in the corridors,” Charly announced, without preamble or warning. “Make it a holiday, everyone is off work, limit it to one end of the Ark.”

I shook my head. “Guns, not the best idea.”

“Ew, no. No pew-pew.” She wrinkled her nose. “I was thinking more paint-soaked splash bombs.”

Finger guns deployed, dual wielding. “I am so here for a paintball tag day in that case.  The flavored paint?”

“Not the scotch bonnet please,” Parvati begged. “I just know someone will get that in the face, I don’t care how much Else likes it.”

“Got it, no more pepper spraying people,” Charly agreed seriously. “OOO! I could test the new arrows out!  With something like buttered popcorn paint, obviously. Maybe kiwi on the other team.”

“Just limit the pull on the bows, okay? I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Fiiiiine…”

Parvati smiled and added to her notes. “So, we probably want someone to correlate the current date to whatever the date would be on Earth… Just in case we need to get a consultant for Holi.”

“Good point. Conor is alarmingly good at that, so I can ask him.  It would be a nice cultural event if we could do that. If not, we can totally work on celebrating Holi when it comes around.”

“Final suggestion for right now, because I have to get back to work,” I sighed happily. “This is going to be the biggest ask, and the smallest at the same time…” Both nodded at me to continue. “Care packages, for everyone. And I mean everyone on the Ark.”

“Sophia,” Parvati scolded me. “That’s almost ten thousand people and sixteen animal companions.”

“Well aware,” I forged on, “We’ll talk to Sam about the bows, I can wrap them. Commission some of those really nice chocolates, or maybe some taffy from Simon. And something salty.  I know there is someone on the Ark who makes aromatherapy candles, Tyche is bananas about them.”

Shaking her head, she added it to the list. “If you insist on that, I insist on a celebration for the drop out of FTL.  Hannah and I can use some of the plans from the Food Festival, include Charly’s paint tag - “

“And Kink Night!”

“- and Kink Night, apparently… have several events going on across the Ark, since we already discussed declaring a holiday.”

“Get Bash’s permission to use the Undine again, and I won’t object,” I surrendered before standing. “On that note, I really do have to get back to work.  Come on, Vati, we have work to do apparently.”

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[unmaskedagain]

Irredeemable my foot

Hi everyone, I decided to write a fic centered on Chloe; is a sugar fic. I always liked her character. And I would like to dedicate this fic to Sienna, aka @catsandfanfic. Happy 14th birthday. Her birthday is March 6th. In my time zone it’s March 6 so hopefully you’re not getting this too early. I hope your birthday is amazing, and I really hope you enjoy this fic; i heard you like Maribat. And @justdyingontheinside gives you a shout out on your special day.

Chloe knew how everyone expected it to go. The blond could admit… She was spoiled, selfish, petty, and insecure, with mommy issues galore.

           But she wasn’t a villain. Yet she could understand why people thought she’d go down like one.

           Nevertheless, for people to think she’d ever willingly work for Hawkmoth; a man who ruthlessly used his power to corrupt the hearts and minds of innocents (like her father, mother, Adrien, Sabrina, and everyone else in Paris) and use them to further his own agenda… was too much.

           The people who believed that was basically saying Chloe was irredeemable; that there was no way she could ever be anything more than what she was. Like she couldn’t grow. Like she couldn’t better herself; like everyone in the world had that ability except for her. She was fourteen-years-old.

           Only fifteen!

           Why was it so easy to write her off?

           Chloe Bourgeois was a bully, not a freaking serial killer.

She wasn’t a Supervillain.  However, Chloe could admit, that for one brief moment when she realized she was passed over yet again by Ladybug for the chance to help save the day, hurt and anger had filled her. That if Hawkmoth had sent a butterfly after her that maybe… MAYBE for a second, she’d take his offer.

At least, he thought she could be of some use.

It wasn’t fair, Chloe remembered stomping her foot as jealously filled her.  Why didn’t Ladybug pick her? She was so much better than all those other stupid heroes! So much better than that mangy Chat Noir even. Queen Bee would be a much better partner. If she could just prove it!

           And that suddenly it was like a lightbulb went off above her head, the kind you only see in cartoons. A smile spread over her face.

           The dark butterfly that was headed her way suddenly changed its course.

Yes, Chloe had thought, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll prove it. I’ll show them all. I’m a hero. And I’m going to save everyone!

She could be better.

She would be better.

           (And once she did, maybe Ladybug would think so too)

           Nevertheless, even if Ladybug never knew. Chloe would. She would know she did the right thing because it was the right thing to do; no other reason. That would be enough for her. Even if it meant she’d never be Queen Bee again.

           Chloe was going to prove she was a hero after all. With or without the mask or magical powers.

           The world thought she wasn’t redeemable. Well, she was going to show the world what a real redemption arc looked like.

           The first thing needed to do was plan. Hawkmoth was too strong. He needed to be brought down fast before he becomes unbeatable. Ladybug was perfect but she was still just a kid. She needed more help.

           Outside help. Chloe knew there were other superheroes out there. The Avengers. The flash and his team in central city. Superman and his superfam in Metropolis. The Teen Titans. The Justice League. But to beat Hawkmoth would take stealth. It took intelligence. And people used to dealing with total nutjobs in costumes. Heroes who could help finally crack the mystery of who Hawkmoth was.

           Paris needs the Batfamily.

           Which means Chloe was going to Gotham. But she wouldn’t go alone. She needed an Ally, or preferably Allies.

Chloe decided to figure out who was who on the best board of life.

           The first was easy Ladybug was the White King; a true, just, and kick-butt hero. Chloe made herself the Queen; because whether Ladybug knew it or not, Chloe had just become her strongest protector. (She only just manage to argue against making Chat Noir a pawn; instead named him a Knight.) Sabrina, though had some major insecurity, was a good friend of Chloe. She was smart enough not to fall for Lila’s fool’s gold.

           Sabrina had learned at the heel of her father when it came to detective work. She had mastered computers thanks to her mother who was a high-level computer programmer.  She knew self-defense since her parents shoved her into Karate when she was younger. The redheaded was organized to the point of being OCD. She was loyal to a fault.

           With a little confidence, Sabrina could be a real asset to Team Ladybug. And she would be. Chloe just needed to show that she trusted the redhead, believed in her.            

Chloe wished she could bring Adrien in but he was a civilian with the backbone of a twizzler. He was too forgiving and to sheltered from the real world. It had worked in her benefit before, otherwise, he’d have dropped her as a friend a long time ago. But things had changed. Chloe needed friends who would stand up against her not just threatened to not be her friend anymore. It wouldn’t do any good in the long run after all.

           Hawkmoth was the Black king; pure evil. The Peacock shrew was his Queen. And, Chloe decided, Lila was his bishop. The sausage haired was a manipulative, rancid, liar. And from what she had seen of Lila’s akumatization, the Italian girl was fully in control of her actions. Which meant Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly.

           And since Lila was the only bad guy she could give a real name for, Chloe decided she would be the key to bringing down Hawkmoth.

           Thus Lila Rossi became public enemy number one.

           Lila was dangerous in a way hawkmoth couldn’t be. She lied and twisted minds with no powers whatsoever. She turned nearly all of Bustier’s class into untrustworthy minions. They should’ve been White; on the side of good. But they had proven to be disloyal and easily influenced. The class couldn’t be trusted.

           They had turned against the one person even Chloe had a hard time not deeming a Saint.

           Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

           Chloe strongly disliked the girl, mostly out of envy. The blond didn’t need therapy to know that she wanted what the bluenette had; a mom that adored her, a dad that actually tried to help and not just throw money at any situation, sheer talent, and pretty much the instant admiration of almost anyone she met.

           However, she was also strong and fierce. Marinette was a force of good hard to reckoned with. Chloe needed all the help she could get.

           Which meant recruiting Dupain-Cheng for the cause.

           That might prove harder than getting Batman to help out.

           When Chloe and Sabrina showed up at the bakery and politely asked to speak with Marinette, she was given a suspicious look by Marinette’s mother (Sabel or something, Chloe couldn’t remember). Still, she called her daughter downstairs.

           Marinette walked into with a bright happy smile that quickly faded when she saw Chloe.

“We need to talk, Marinette,” Chloe forced herself to say the other girl’s first name. “Its an emergency.” Sabrina nudged her. “Please.”

           It was obviously the shock of Chloe saying please that got Marinette to take them up to her bedroom.

           Marinette tried her best to smile, “So what’ s the emerg-” Chloe cut her off.

“We’re going to Gotham to recruit Batman and his fam,” Chloe told her. “To help Ladybug bring down HawkLoser. You coming or not.”

           The bluenette just blinked.

           Sabrina winced at her best friend’s lack of tact, “What Chloe is trying to say is… We could really use your help. Ladybug could use your help. Everyone likes you. You can convince Batman to come.”

“…Why?” Marinette asked after a moment of silence.

“Ladybug needs help!” Chloe told her. “Chat Noir throws tantrums all the time. Hawkmoth has the Peacock and Lila at his deposal. Ladybug hasn’t called in Rena or Caraprace in almost a year, so there has to be a reason for that. She needs help! She needs us!”

           The Asian girl nodded slowly, “I mean, why come to me? Why help Ladybug like this?”

           Chloe frowned, “Because you always do what’s right; the good, noble thing even if it’s utterly ridiculous for you to do so. I’m doing this, helping, Ladybug, because she needs help. I’m a hero, no matter what anyone says or thinks. And Heroes help.”

           The bluenette looked at the two girls. They had been a thorn in her side for years. But she always thought they could change. She believed they could. And coming to her, Chloe archenemy, was proof that they were changing. “What’s the plan?”

           The blond smiled. “Sabrina managed to outline the patrol routes for the batfamily.”

“They switch who does what route but there is a predictability to it,” Sabrina added. “The idea is to force a confrontation. I’ve gathered evidence to show them so they could understand the gravity.”

“My job is to get us,” Chloe said. “You have plenty of time to come up with one of Disney motivational speeches to get them on board. We leave for Gotham tomorrow.”

           It was after midnight. Three girls stood on top of an old condemned building in the heart of Gotham; dressed in black, shivering from the cold.

“By my calculations,” Sabrina said. She held a computer under her arm. “At least two of the bats should be by monitoring the area during this hour.”

“And we’re sure this is going to work?” Marinette asked.

           Chloe smirked, “Oh yeah.” She took a deep breath and screamed. “AHHHHHHHH!! Help!! Help! Someone please!!” She gave a fake sob and fell to the ground; causing Marinette to jump back in shock. She looked up at Marinette and Sabrina with a wide grin on her face, “How was that?”

“Become an actress,” Marinette told her. “Let me design the dress you wear when you accept the Oscar.”

           There were two loud thuds behind.

“What’s going on?” A tall hero they recognized as Nightwing asked.

“We heard screams,” Red Robin stated.

“Its go time,” Chloe told them as she got up.

           Sabrina nodded firmly as she opened up the laptop and started quickly.

           Marinette smiled at the heroes, “Hi. My name is Marinette. This is Sabrina and Chloe,” She motioned to her friends. “We’ve come from Paris to seek the aid of Batman to stop a supervillain that has been terrorizing our city.”

           Red Robin stepped forward, “A supervillain? In Paris?”

“We haven’t heard anything about it,” Nightwing said. “We know there are heroes there that takedown small-time villain, But nothing too damaging that we’ve seen.”

“Hawkmoth possesses people,” Chloe hissed. “Turns them into monsters. Turns kids into monsters. Literal Babies into monsters. A girl who can control the weather and could end the world.  Another who absorbed energy from people so she could travel back in time. Until the people she steals energy from will freeze and slowly disappear. A man with the power of the Egyptian gods and tried to revive the dead. A villain who could trap people in pictures. Another that can bring people the worst nightmares to life. How about one that caused most of the citizens of the city of Paris to drown. One man caused all that happened. Our city gets destroyed over and over again. People die over and over again. Hawkmoth is behind it all.”

           Sabrina turned her laptop to them, and show the video they clipped together. “This is a news real, videos sent from regular smartphones.” The video showed proof of the fights, the monsters, the deaths, the damages, the terror. “Check any new channel centered in Paris. It will show you. This. IS. Real.”

Marinette fought the urge not to tremble as she remembered every villain she fought. “Ladybug fixes the damage the akuma causes; including bringing people back to life. But the people who die still remember. Ladybug can’t do this alone anymore. Even the help of Chat Noir isn’t enough. If Hawkmoth gets what he wants, it could be the end of everything and everyone.” It hadn’t been for a long time, she thought bitterly. Chat Noir loved the glamor and excitement of being a hero but it was like he never really felt the burden of the weight of Paris on his shoulders like she did. To him, it was all game. Or some stupid action movie. And he was too busy trying to get the girl to realize that they might not be able to save the day.

The bluenette looked hard at the heroes, “We need help. I know it’s not your city. I know you don’ have to care. I know you have your own villains and problems.” Tears burned in her eyes. “But we wouldn’t be here if we had other options; if we could handle it by ourselves. So We’re asking anyway. Will you please help us?”

Two identical horrified looks were on the batkids’ faces. Dick and Tim looked at the three kids, thousands of miles away from home, in the middle of the most dangerous city in the world, at night, to beg for help against what sounded like an undeniable monster. The teen girls were scared, near hopeless, and willing to ask for help from Batman and his family, heroes most civilians were too scared to even cross paths with.

Their situation was dire. Direr than the risk of being three, alone, beautiful, teenage girls in Gotham.

The other bats had been listening and or watching the conversation and were equally horrified. But that quickly gave way to fury.

“Red Robin, I want the intel off Sabrina’s computer,” Batman growled. “Oracle, I want everything you can find on Hawkmoth. We’ll start preparing to leave for Paris”

“On it,” Barabra stated. “I also brought up info on the girls. They’re all clean. Sabrina’s dad a cop. Marinette’s an all-star student, who has quite a few famous friends. Chloe’s the daughter of the Style Queen and the Mayor of Paris.”

“I get to kill Hawkmoth, right, B-man?” Jason asked. “I mean, I’m watching a video where he turned a crying baby who literally just wanted a lollipop into Gigantitan and used him to terrorize people. That’s gotta be a free pass on the killing thing.”

           There was silence. No answer from Batman.

“Holy shit, are you considering it?” Jason asked stunned. “Kids really are your Achilles’ heel.”

           Nightwing nodded. Batman always had a soft spot for kids. But even Dick was considering beating Hawkmoth to death. “Batman has agreed to help.” He told the girls who visibly sighed in relief as weight had come off them.

“May I use your laptop?” Tim asked the redhead. Sabrina nodded quickly and handed it over.

           Nightwing observed the girls, “What else can you tell us about Hawkmoth?”

“No one knows his identity, obviously?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “His Allies include another villain named Mayura, identity unknown. And a civilian named Lila Rossi.”

Sabrina still couldn’t believe Lila stooped so low. “We have evidence that she has been willingly working with the known terrorist Hawkmoth and has allowed herself to be akumatized multiple times.” She pushed up her glasses. “She’s in our class. She has been lying and causing emotional distress to multiple students, increasing Akumas.” Lila had always caused the near break up of Ivan and Mylene, Nino and Alya, and for several friendships to nearly be destroyed. It was awful. “We think she will be the best way to finally snuffing out the villain. She has some connection to him we’re trying to figure out.”

“Suspects?” Damian asked in comms. “Stop being obtuse. We need to know who they suspect.”

“Robin, you shouldn’t be on the comms,” Batman reprimanded. “It’s your day off. Relax.”

           Tim nodded, “Any leads on Hawkmoth’s identity.”

“Just one,” Marinette admitted. “A man named Gabriel Agreste. But we ruled him out after he was akumartized.”

           Chloe snorted, “That’s stupid.” She said. “If Ladybug’s cure can heal the damage of an akuma, including what’s inflicting to her and that Alley Chat; there’s no logical reason, Hawkmoth can’t use his own powers on himself. To think otherwise, would be ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.”

           Sabrina agreed, “Or he could’ve gotten Mayura to use it. I mean Ladybug and Chat Noir switched before. Why couldn’t they?”

           Red Robin nodded, “That’s a good point. We’ll investigate him further.” He told them. “How much are you involved?”

           The girls shared a look. Chloe stepped forward proudly, “I was the Hero, Queen Bee.”

“No!” Marinette said strongly. “She is the Hero Queen Bee; a loyal friend and ally of Ladybug.” She swallowed hard as she fought the nervousness. Tikki and her had talked about what would happen next. Chloe had proven herself as far as two were considered. The blond deserved a real chance to prove she what type of hero she could be.

           Marinette took a deep breath and reached into her bag and pulled out a necklace and a hair comb that Chloe recognized instantly. A series of emotions flashed over the blonde’s face; recognition, understanding, disbelief, envy, embarrassment, frustration, acceptance, and then finally a look of admiration.

“Here,” She handed the comb to Chloe and the necklace to Sabrina. The kawami’s floated out.

“My queen,” Pollen purred as she landed on Chloe’s shoulder. The blonde looked ready to cry.

           Trixx spun around Sabrina’s head, “Kit. I have new Kitt!”

           The batfamily was just confused.

           Marinette straightens up, “Chloe for your show of loyalty, for your dedication to justice, and for your willingness to help from shadows; I name you an official and permanent member of the miraculous team. Keep moving forward. Keeping bettering yourself. I believe in you. And I welcome Queen Bee back.”

“Wha…” Nightwing said only to be cut off by Chloe

           She yelled, “Pollen, Buzz On!" And before they’re eyes, she transformed into the hero Queen Bee. “Eat your heart out, boys,” Chloe smirked at the stunned heroes.

           Marinette giggled. She focused on Sabrina who now realized exactly what was about to happen. “Sabrina, when Chloe brought you, I didn’t know what to expect. It turned out you had spent months researching and gathering evidence. I didn’t there was proof Lila was working with Hawkmoth willingly, you did. You saw through the lies and deception to find the truth despite the danger it could bring you. Which why I give you the kwami of Illusion.”

           Sabrina shakily put on the necklace. Trixx patted her head, “Now say, Trisx let's pounce.” The redhead did as she was told as was instantly transformed into a fox themed hero. Unlike Alya, Sabrina’s look was grey and a startling silver. It was more like an actual combat uniform.

“Truth is neither right nor wrong,” Sabrina stated. “It's not good or evil. It's not light or dark. Truth just is. I am Renarde Gris.”

           Marinette smiled and then said, “Tikki, Spots on.” And was transformed into Ladybug. Her suit was different; darker and better armored. “I am Ladybug.” She told the bats. “And I thank you for help.”

           Nightwing opened and closed his mouth repeatedly.

           Red Robin just pinched his nose, “Did you just make a civilian into a superhero just like that?”

           Ladybug tilted her head innocently, “Why? Isn’t that how batman got you?”

           Jason snorted, “She ain’t lying.”

“You were trained before going into the field,” Batman corrected. “You all were. But let’s focus, Ladybug is a child!”

“You’re just a kid,” Nightwing said. “You’ll all just kids.”

           Sabrina crossed her arms, “Weren’t you the first Robin? And didn’t you start at like ten-years-old? At least we’re teenagers.”

“And we don’t dress like traffic lights!” Marinette and Chloe snapped together, to their surprise, and then high-fived with a laugh.

           Red Robin examined Ladybug in a new light, “You’ve been protective Paris for three years.”

“Alone?” Damian growled in their ears. “Father, you said I was too young. I am the same age as them. I demand to be treated befitting of my status.”

           Ladybug shrugged, “The current Robin has protected Gotham on his own many times. He’s even led Teen Titans on missions. He has proven as I have that age is meaningless in the pursuit of justice. “

           Nightwing shook his head, “You’re just kids. Robin is just a kid.”

“Tell me, what bothers you more?” She asked. “The line of children that followed in your footsteps. Or that current Robin is better than you ever were.”

“…I love her.” Damian said. “Father, I love her and I will marry her.” It went quiet. “Red Robin, tell her of my affections. Superboy wants Chloe’s number. Spiderman requests Sabrina’s. I still don’t understand, why, you thought a ‘kids’ game night’ was necessary, father?”

           Batman just sighed.

           Tim cleared his throat, “Robin would like to, uh, court you.” He said. “Superboy would like Queen Bee’s phone number.” He could wait to tell Conner that Jon had a crush. “Spiderman request Renarde Gris’.”

           The girls all blushed prettily.

“Then he can hero up and ask me himself,” Sabrina smirked in a way that made Chloe proud.

“Same,” Marinette said with a smile. Chloe nodded in agreement.

“…We’re on our way,” Damian said into the comms.

           The sigh that answered that statement clearly belonged to Bruce.

[tuiccim]

Terrigenisis (Part 1)

Pairing: Avengers X Inhuman!Reader

Words: 3870

Summary: Your life is torn apart after undergoing terrigenisis unwillingly your life is turned upside down when you are deemed too dangerous to return to civilian life. You are put with the Avengers team to train and rebuild your life.

—————————————

“Charlie, the car’s packed. Are you ready?” You called. Your first vacation in two years ahead. A rock climbing trip to Arizona. 

“Almost. Come here.” Charlie called from the apartment kitchen. 

“What’s up?” You smile as you walk into the kitchen and see Charlie holding out a small medicine cup. “What am I taking today?” You smile at your husband who is currently on a vitamin kick. 

“Magnesium, fish oil, vitamin d, and a multi.” He smiles as he picks up his own cup and clinks it together with yours. 

You both take the vitamins and then you lean in for a quick kiss. “Okay, good lookin’, vacation time.” 

You turn to head for the door but Charlie’s voice brings you back around, “What’s happening?” he says in a panicked voice, “(Y/N)!” You turn to see his body being covered by rocks. 

“Charlie!” You reach out for him. 

“Don’t touch me!” He yells, but then you feel something strange yourself. Looking down you see the rocks beginning to cover you, too. 

“Charlie!” You yell again. 

“I love you!” He says just before the rocks cover him completely. 

“I love you!” You cry and then are overtaken. 

Fourteen months later.

“So, you’re just gonna spring me on them?” You look at Nicky Fury as he drives to the Avenger’s compound. 

“Not like we had a lot of time. Coulson's team had to move. This will be the safest place for you and you can be trained as an Avenger here.” Fury states.

You roll your eyes. Not like you hadn’t been training for the last six months with Coulson’s  team, but apparently you can’t even tell anyone about them. Now, you’re supposed to join this team and everything will be all better. You put your earbuds in.

You’re brought into the conference room and face the Avengers team. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Wanda Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, and Bucky Barnes. 

“Avengers, meet your newest trainee.” Fury states. 

You keep your gaze down not wanting to see the anger on everyone’s faces. 

“What is this, Fury?” Captain Rogers is the first to speak. 

“Look, we need a place for her to train and become mission ready. Right now, here is the safest place for that. I’ll let you get acquainted.” With that, Fury leaves. 

You stare after him as he leaves you to the team’s mercy. You turn to look at Captain Rogers, apprehension clear on your face. He seems to take some pity on you. 

“You’re an agent?” He asks. 

“Fury didn’t give you my file?” You ask quietly. 

“What he just said is what he gave me on you.” Captain says, not unkindly. 

“Great.” Your quiet, sarcastic reply. 

“Why don’t you sit down and we can figure this all out?” Captain Rogers motions to the chair at the head of the table. You felt like you were sitting in front of a jury. 

You looked around the table slowly at each solemn face. Miss Maximoff offers you a small smile and it bolsters a bit of courage in you. 

“Okay. What’s your deal, then?” Mr. Stark questions. 

“I guess it’d just be best to lay it all out for you from the beginning, huh?” You look to Captain Rogers. 

“That would make things easier.” Agent Romanoff says. 

You look at her and nod. “Fourteen months ago, I underwent terrigenesis.”

“Where did you get a terrigen crystal?” Dr. Banner asks. 

“My husband, Charlie, handed me our morning vitamins. One was a new fish oil we were trying.” You say. 

“Oh my god. You were one of the accidentally exposed?” Miss Maximoff says sadly. 

“Yes.” You nod. 

“Your husband?” She asks.

“He was not an Inhuman.” You look away for a minute to compose yourself. The loss of Charlie was still painful. You swallow and continue, “I, however, am. I emerged from the chrysalis with the ability to understand any vocal communication.”

“You mean verbal communication?” Dr. Banner says. 

“No, I mean vocal. A dog barks and I know what it’s communicating, not exact words but the meaning. Eventually after hearing any human language for a time I can speak it also. I was fluent in English and Spanish before, but since I’ve become fluent in Mandarin and Cantonese, and I have working knowledge of a few others. I’m basically a universal translator.”

Agent Romanoff speaks then in Russian “You can understand anything said to you even if you don’t know the language?”

“That’s correct. I actually don’t know any Russian. If you could speak it to me when we talk I’ll pick it up eventually. If any of you know other languages, it would be helpful for me to learn to speak them.”

“I would be happy to help you with Sokovian.” Miss Maximoff says in her language. 

“Thank you. I’m grateful for whatever I can learn.” You smile at her. 

“And that’s it? You can’t go back to your life because you can understand what everyone says?” Mr. Stark snarks. 

“No. With being Inhuman comes additional strength and stamina, my gifts also include increased hearing and I can, um, warg for lack of a better term.” You give a half shrug. 

“Warg? Like embody animals?” Agent Barton says. 

“Yes. I can see, hear, feel through them. I have a Red-tailed Hawk who I’ve built a relationship with. I use her often to train.”

“Where is she?” Agent Barton asks. 

You warg into her for a moment turning your eyes yellow as the hawks. “She’s in a dogwood tree on the north side of the compound.”

“Did you just…?” Agent Barton raises his eyebrows.

“Yes.” Turning back to Mr. Stark you say, “To answer your questions, Mr. Stark, the combination of my Inhuman abilities with the fact that I am a black belt in Krav Maga and Karate, an expert level climber, and a computer programmer put me in the threat category.”

“Programmer?” Mr. Stark smirks, “You mean hacker?”

“No. I mean programmer. I was not a part of anything clandestine… Until SHIELD.” you roll your eyes and a few of the team chuckled. “I could already kill someone with my bare hands, add in extra strength.” You shrug again. “Anyway, I’ve spent the last six months training with another Inhuman to hone my skills. They needed the full team to be field ready and Fury decided to move me here.”

“What are you lacking for field readiness?” Captain Rogers asks. 

“Firearms training mostly.” You reply. “I have control of my abilities. My hand to hand is more than sufficient.”

“Do you have any experience with firearms?” Sergeant Barnes asks. 

“Kinda why I got a black belt in Krav Maga and Karate was hoping to never need one. And if I do, I’ll take one.”

“Family?” Captain Rogers asks.

You shake your head, “My mom died when I was three. My dad raised me. He was a Coast Guard pilot. Died five years ago in a helicopter crash.”

“I’m sorry.” He says sincerely. 

“Thanks. Any other questions? Anybody?” You look around the table. 

“I think you’ve given us enough for now. Do you have bags or boxes we can help you move into a room?” Captain Rogers asks. 

“Just those two. I’ve got them.” You pick up the large duffle and backpack. 

“Why don’t you take an hour to settle in and then we’ll meet to start training.” 

You nod, a little surprised he wants to start training so soon. 

“I’ll show you to your room.” Miss Maximoff says. “Where’s she going?” she asks the Captain. 

You see a cloud come over Captain Roger’s face for a moment before he says, “There’s a free room on my end.”

You realize he was trying to figure out where to put you and decided to keep the newbie nearby. You didn’t mind. 

“Thank you.” You say to Captain Rogers and you nod to the rest of the team before you follow Miss Maximoff. “Thank you for showing me to the room, Miss Maximoff.”

Wanda giggles, “You can call me Wanda.”

“Thanks. Please call me (Y/N). And I thought you were gonna speak Sokovian to me?” You give her a small smile as you walk to the elevator. 

“Oh, of course.” She says in Sokovian while hitting the elevator button. 

“I wonder how good her hearing is.” You hear the whisper in the conference room. 

“Good enough I can hear you from out here, Agent Barton.” You call back and grin at Wanda. 

“Thanks!” He calls back. 

“Not so loud! Geez” You and Wanda giggle together as you get on the elevator. 

“What did he say? I couldn’t hear anything from where we were.” Wanda asks. 

“Oh, he just wondered how good my hearing is.” 

“Is it really sensitive?” 

“Yeah. I have to sleep with earplugs and I wear headphones a lot to block some of it out. It’s taken a while to get used to it. At first, it was super overwhelming.”

“I understand. It was very brave the way you told everyone what happened to you.” 

“Seemed fair. I got the chance to read all of your files, so I know about everyone else.”

“Here we are. Do you want help unpacking? I can stick around for a little bit.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to do that. I’ll see you at training?”

“Yes, I’ll be there. If you need anything ask FRIDAY she can direct you where you need to go and answer your questions.” Wanda waves as she leaves you alone in the room. 

The room is nicer than what you expected. A queen bed, desk, bookshelves, tv, walk in closet, and your own bathroom. You would definitely need to go to a store soon to pick up a few things. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be a problem with Captain Rogers. You empty your duffle bag, put your clothes away, and place your toiletries in the bathroom. You unwrap the two framed pictures and place them on your desk. One is you and Charlie smiling in a waterfall grotto after a long hike. The other is your wedding day, you in a short lace dress, him in a white button down and khaki pants, with the sun setting behind you on the beach just after you said your vows. You gently touch the photo, “Love you, Charlie.” you whisper. 

You decide to change and head to wherever training would be. You stop at the panel by your door, "Uh, FRI...FRIDAY?"

"How may I be of assistance, Ms. (L/N)?"

"Where would I go to meet the others for training?"

"The training room is located on the first floor." She says as she flashes a map up. 

"Thank you." You feel kind of sheepish talking to the AI. 

Once in the training room you look around at the well equipped room. Every type of weights, machines, a boxing ring, mats, weapon lockers, and even a rock climbing wall you saw with excitement. Looking up at the ceiling you see it's criss crossed with beams and you get a wicked idea. You grab a climbing rope hanging down at one end of the room and shimmy up it quickly. You're able to swing yourself to the beam fairly easily from there and then walk the beams towards the entrance to the room. You take a seat with your back to a joist and stretch your legs out in front of you. It's not long before Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes come in together.

"Wonder if she’s as skilled as it sounds.” Sergeant Barnes says. 

“Black belts in karate and krav maga? I’m sure she has some skills but getting her to Avenger status may be a challenge.” Captain Rogers says. 

“Guess the question is, is she up for it?” Sergeant Barnes scoffs. 

“I certainly plan to try, Sergeant.” You say from your perch. 

“What the hell?” Sergeant Barnes looks up at you and you give a little wave.

“What are you doing up there, (Y/N)?” Captain Rogers says. 

“Waiting.” You say simply. 

“You felt the need to do that twenty feet in the air?” Captain Rogers scoffs.

You shrug, “Felt like climbing.” Getting up, you walk along the beams. 

“Can you come down, please?” Sergeant Barnes says. 

“Sure.” You walk back towards the climbing rope, once close enough you jump to it, and slide down. 

Sergeant Barnes is right next to you when you turn around, “What would have happened if you’d fallen?” 

“It’d hurt,” you say and look up to the beams, “A lot.”

“Might want to reconsider using the beams as a waiting room.” He snarks. 

“Nah, I like being up high. I’m pretty sure-footed.” You look back to his face and he is scowling down at you. “What?”

“Nothing.”  He says, “I’ll take that to mean you're warmed up. Let’s do some sparring and see how you do.”

“Okay.” 

You follow him to the mat. Captain Rogers is standing to the side watching. You take stance and Sergeant Barnes begins. You can tell he is holding back and you go harder at him. After sparring with Melinda May for months you weren’t about to let him patronize you. You were holding your own and noticed the rest of the team filtering in and watching. He grabbed your arm and you used the leverage to jump up, throw your legs around his neck, and  throw him to the ground. He rolled to his feet immediately and came right back at you. After a few more minutes, Captain Rogers called out, “Alright. Let’s switch it up.” You stopped but kept your eyes on Sergeant Barnes until he retreated. 

“Not bad.” Sergeant Barnes says to Captain. 

“Natasha.” Captain Rogers looks at her and she nods. 

“Agent Romanoff.” You incline your head to her as she approaches. 

“Natasha’s fine.” She smiles. 

“(Y/N). Thanks.” You smile back and Natasha throws the first punch. You manage to hold your own for a while but in the end Natasha managed to pin you to the mat. 

“Well done.” Natasha says. 

“Not well enough.” You say with a mirthless chuckle. 

“Who or what is next, Captain?” You say looking at the super soldier. 

He looks over to Sergeant Barnes, “Bucky, can you take her to the range and gauge her abilities there?”

“Sure.” He eyes you and then makes a motion for you to follow. 

As you walk out of the training room and turn down a hallway towards the range, you say to him, “I don’t have a lot of experience with guns, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky.”

“What?”

“Call me Bucky.”

“Okay. I don’t have a lot of experience with guns, Bucky. I’ve shot a few times, but the last year has really been about my abilities and honing hand to hand.”

“Well, we’ll see what we have to work with and go from there.” Bucky says as he holds the door to the range open for you. You slip in past him and watch as he goes to the locker and pulls out a Glock, a clip, and a box of ammo. He then sets it all down in front of you with protective gear and stands back with arms crossed. 

You reign in a smirk at his demeanor. He really is testing you. You pick up the clip, add the ammo, load and cock the gun. Clicking the safety into place, you put the protective gear on, pick the gun back up, and move to aim at the target. You take the safety off, aim, and fire. When you’ve emptied the clip, you set the gun down and turn to Bucky while removing the headphones. “It’s still loud even through these things.” 

Bucky actually chuckles and hits the button to bring the target up for inspection. “You at least know how to load and shoot, but your aim needs work.”

While you had hit the target with each bullet, the rounds were dispersed throughout the torso. Yeah, your aim was lacking. 

"Yup. Want me to go again?" 

"No, just trying to get an idea." He gives you a tight smile that you return. 

When you return to the training room, Captain Rogers takes you through a workout and then brings you a bottle of water. "Good work today."

"Thanks, Captain. I know it was awkward having me sprung on you." 

"You can call me Steve. We all go by first names around here." He says.

"My, uh, my dad always required I called people by their title until invited otherwise. Old habits." You shrug.

"Yeah, I get it. Go get some rest and I'll show you around later."

"That would be great. Thanks." 

An hour later you had showered and changed. You went to the common room to see if Captain Rogers, erm, Steve was around for the tour he had offered. Sam Wilson looked up from the couch. 

“Hey, newbie.” He smiles. 

“Hello.”

”I’m Sam. So, you have a hawk friend? What’s its name?”

“Doesn’t really have an English translation. It’s kind of a mix between a squawk and screech so I just call her Redtail.” You say. 

“I’m trying to figure out if you're kidding.” Sam eyes you. 

“The first part, yeah. But I really do call her Redtail.” You smirk.

“So, you can… what did you call it?”

“Warg. Warging.” You say. 

“You can warg into her anytime you want?”

“Generally. I try to be respectful of her. She’s not a pet. She’s a companion that has chosen to befriend me and allow me to use her. Would you like to meet her later?” 

“Yeah. That would be cool.” Sam smiles. 

“(Y/N).” Steve strides into the room. 

“Captain. Sorry. Steve.” You give him a small smile. 

“Ready to take a tour?” He asks. 

“Yes, thank you. Would you care to join us, Sam?”

“I’m good, but don’t forget about introducing me to Redtail.” Sam says from his spot on the couch. 

“You got it.” You say as you go to follow Steve. 

“Redtail?” Steve asks.

“The hawk I mentioned.” You say. 

Steve shows you around the compound, explains FRIDAY’s functions, and talks a little bit about the team. He’s very kind through the whole process but you can tell he has some concerns about you becoming part of the team. 

“Steve, can I ask you something?” You finally work up the courage to say.

“Yeah.”  He turns to look at you. 

“How does everyone feel about me being dropped on you? There’s bound to be some resentment.”

“I wouldn’t say resentment. Everyone’s just a bit guarded when it comes to new people. You must have done something right for Fury to put you here, though. Most of them know that.”

“Any helpful hints?”

“They’re all good people. Just give them time. They’ll warm up. And, seriously, don’t ever steal Natasha’s cookies.” He says. 

You laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind. Would you like to meet Redtail?”

“That’d be great.” 

“FRIDAY, will you let Sam know to meet us at the North entrance?” 

“Getting used to FRIDAY already, huh?” Steve smiles.

“I can see how useful she is.”

A few minutes later Sam appears with Bucky following behind. 

“Hey Buck.” Steve greets, “Wanted to meet Redtail, too?”

“Uh, yeah, if that’s okay, (Y/N)?” Bucky asks.

“Sure.” You give a small smile and head outside. “Gimme about 15 feet of space, guys. Don’t want to scare her.”

The guys move back as asked and you put your hands around your mouth and let out a loud “CAW CAW!” You look back at the bewildered expressions of the three and start laughing. “Just kidding. Sorry I couldn’t resist.” They all chuckle. 

You reach in your back pocket and pull out a falconry glove. Slipping it on, you warg into Redtail turning your eyes yellow and ask her to come to you. Redtail makes a graceful arc from the dogwood tree she had been resting in and landed on your upheld hand. “Hello there, sweet girl. How do you like your new spot?” Redtail looks at you tilting her head. 

“Does she understand you?” Sam asks.

“No, we can communicate when I warg, but it’s more like an exchange of images than it is talking.” You warg for a moment to ask Redtail if she can bring her closer to the three curious men and once you receive her consent you release the warg. “I’m going to bring her closer but please keep your hands down, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.” Steve says. 

“So, she’s your pet?” Bucky asks as you walk closer. 

“No, I don't take care of her. She’s not my pet. She’s my companion, my friend.” You say petting the bird's chest. “Would you like to pet her?”

Bucky nods and you take his right hand in yours and bring it up to Redtail’s chest allowing him to pet her. She makes a small chittering sound and you smile at Bucky, “She likes you.” He smiles sweetly. 

You move to Sam next and Redtail immediately starts chittering again. You take Sam’s hand and bring it up to her chest like you did with Bucky. Redtail leans into Sam’s hand and tilts her head back and forth studying him. She starts to reach a claw out to move to his hand but you warg to her and show her her talons tearing his skin. “Wow, she really likes you. I guess she sees a fellow bird.” You laugh.

“I do have a way with the ladies.” Sam grins. 

You move to Steve last and allow him to pet Redtail. When you look at him he’s grinning and you can’t help but smile at the reactions each of the guys had to her. You look at Redtail, “Thank you, my friend.” You lift your arm in the air and she takes flight. 

“She’s beautiful.” Steve says. 

“Yeah, she is. I’m so grateful for how she’s stuck with me. I try to always give her the respect she deserves.” You say. 

“So, you warg into her just whenever you want?” Bucky asks.

“I can. I usually warg into her and ask her permission. She’s rarely denied me. She was always curious about humans and she feels safe with me, but she’s still a wild animal and I don’t want her to lose that. I want her to always be free, ya know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” Bucky says with a smile. 

“Why don’t we head in and find some dinner?” Steve suggests. 

“Sounds good to me. I’m starving.” Sam says. 

As you walk in, you remember you have no food here and need to go to a store. “Hey Steve. Is there a vehicle I can use?”

“What for?” He asks. 

“My grand escape plan.” You deadpan, “I’d like to go to a store and pick up a few things. Or am I confined to the compound?”

“No, of course not. You can use the SUV in the garage. Keys are in the locker. Scan your thumb to access it.” Steve says. 

“Great. Thanks. You guys need anything?”

A round of no’s from them, you head to the store to pick up some essentials and food. The rest of the night is spent settling in.

Part 2

Masterlist

[vampiregirl1797]

First Days With Your Boyfriend’s Cardigan

Spencer Reid x Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist

Word Count: 2,199

Summary: Y/N is starting her first day at the BAU as a technical analyst working alongside Penelope Garcia. She turns up wearing one of Spencer’s beloved cardigans to offer her some comfort on a particularly anxious day. How will the others react when they make the connection between Y/N and Spencer?

Requested by: @synthemo 

I took a deep breath as I stared up at the FBI building in Quantico, Virginia. My boyfriend, Spencer had gotten me a job working alongside the BAU’s technical analyst, Penelope Garcia. I still had absolutely no idea how far his influence had contributed towards me getting the job, all I knew was last Wednesday at 9am I’d had a job interview with Garcia and the unit chief, Aaron Hotchner. The latter had been a little intimidating, but I’d been prepared for that thanks to Spencer’s forewarning. Thankfully, Penelope had been bright, bubbly and had made it impossible for me not to relax in her company. The interview had passed in a blur, and I’d received a call three days ago telling me I had got the job and I started today. Spence had gone in before me— he’d been called in for a child abduction case in L.A, and after rushing to get ready in under five minutes, he’d left me with a kiss and a quietly murmured ‘good luck today honey.’

I’d fallen back asleep within minutes, but when my alarm had gone off this morning, the nerves had woken with me and had been getting progressively worse since. So I’d grabbed one of Spence’s cardigans on my way out of the door— he’d worn it all day yesterday so it smelled of him, and the soft, warm fabric made me feel almost as safe as I did when I was in his arms. I was hoping no one would notice, though it was pretty oversized on me, but I could have easily bought it this big on purpose. Even if they did, I couldn’t bring myself to be too bothered by it; Spence was my boyfriend, he made me feel loved and safe, and I wasn’t going to be embarrassed for needing that today. 

I found Garcia in her bat cave pretty easily— she’d given me a tour after my interview last week and she brightened up as soon as she saw me and gave me the biggest hug, immediately making me feel more at ease. 

‘Y/N! You’re here, I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been looking forward to this since your interview last week, I knew then that you were my missing I.T. soulmate, the yin to my computer yang.’ She paused for breath, noticing the understanding smile on my face, ‘you know exactly what I mean, don’t you?’

‘I do,’ I nodded, settling into the wheeled chair she pulled out for me and taking in the many screens that were clearly my set up, because they were the only ones in the room that were blank. While Garcia’s were lit up with programmes, search results and surrounded by so many bright, fluffy objects that instantly made my mood brighten just that little more.

‘So where do we start?’ I wondered, wrapping Spence’s cardigan tighter around me as I listened to the information Hotch had asked us both to gather.

‘Okay, so apparently our newest resident sicko is someone in this family’s life. His preference is teenagers and due to the fact that Kellen David disappeared without a struggle, the team thinks that the kid knew his abductor,’ Garcia started, handing me a list of handwritten names and sectors for me to search.

‘Got it, what permitters am I searching for?’ I asked, loading the system that I created onto my set up— I’d had it ready to go for days so it only took a few minutes to set up.

‘Any man who seems involved in the David’s lives, relatives have already been cleared, so anyone from outside blood relations who appeared when Kellen was coming out of infancy.’ Garcia reeled off, typing on her computer as she spoke.

After a moment, I joined her, both of us working silently, well up until my phone rang and I nearly fell out of my chair in surprise. Garcia laughed at my reaction and nodded towards the headset next to the phone. With a sigh I slid it on and hit answer.

‘You’ve reached one of the two technical analysts for the BAU.’ I murmured into the phone, nerves clearly present, but they disappeared when I realised who I was talking to.

‘Hey honey,’ Spence said, his voice soft and I felt my anxiety completely diminish, ‘how’s your first day going?’

‘Good, I’m over half way through the list Garcia gave me and I haven’t found anything yet.’ I told him, discreetly inhaling his scent from the cardigan I was still wearing as he spoke; with the sound of his voice and his aroma that was imbedded in his clothing, my anxiety didn’t stand a chance of re-appearing.

‘I’m glad to hear it. I’m actually calling to ask you to search something for me, would that be okay?’ He asked, sounding almost timid and it made my heart soften in his chest. He was always so considerate with me, always asking me something in a way that was clear that I could say no if I wished.

‘Of course it is. What do you need, Doc?’ The nickname slid past my lips without much thought, but I did smile when I noticed Spencer’s change in tone, hinting at the flustered state that always followed that particular endearment.

‘Can you check where Garrett Harold was around the time of the abduction?’ He said, and I knew if I could see him right now, he would be blushing and his eyes would have darkened from their usual light cinnamon to chocolate in his desire. Depending on his mood, that particular nickname could make him beam with pride, blush bashfully, or make him so overrun with desire that we would both be naked within minutes. It was unfortunate he had the latter reaction when I was thousands of miles away from him. 

‘According to credit card statements Garrett Harold was only a few blocks away from the David’s house fifteen minutes before the abduction. He bought a large caramel latte, and he even purchased a flight to Paris from his phone but there’s no record of him being in France.’ I told him, crossing my legs as I tried to dampen my own desire that always arose in response to his.

‘Thank you, honey.’ He hung up and Garcia and I fell back into the comfortable silence we’d become accustomed to very quickly. 

I didn’t know that Garcia had been half listening to our conversation, and that hearing the relaxed way I spoke to him had allowed her mind to remember where she’d seen the cardigan I was wearing before. On the resident genius, Spencer Reid. She grinned and turned back to her work, wondering how long it would take the other profilers to realise what she’d picked up on in under an hour.

//

‘How long until they’re back?’ I asked Pen for what must have been the hundredth time, but I couldn’t help it, I’d heard that Spence and Derek had to talk down the suspect. I was beyond proud of him for saving Kellen David, but I after I’d heard Garrett had fired a shot at my genius because he wanted to be shot dead and not go to prison, well I needed to see him with my own two eyes to make sure he was okay.

‘They’ll be here in a few minutes, Derek just texted me and said they’re in the elevator.’ Garcia said, typing a response to Morgan and squealing when I grabbed her arm and pulled her with me to the elevator.

When the doors finally slid open, I offered everyone else bright smiles but made a beeline for my resident genius and threw my arms around his neck. I could hear exclamations of surprise from behind me, but I didn’t care and nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent, my eyes fluttering closed at how much stronger it was coming from him than the cardigan I’d been holding hostage all day.

‘Hey honey,’ he chuckled, holding me just as tightly and I smiled when I could hear him inhaling after he’d buried his face in my hair, ‘I’m okay, I told you I was.’

‘I know, but you could have lied to stop me from worrying,’ I replied, not even bothering to open my eyes.

‘Well... you’re not wrong.’ His tone was sheepish.

‘Did you get hit?’ I pulled back, my eyes taking in his appearance as if I could see any injuries that would be hiding underneath his soft cardigan, shirt, tie and dress pants.

‘No I moved out of the way, he shot the wall and Derek shot him.’ His eyes were soft as I linked my arm through his and allowed him to lead me back into the elevator.

‘Don’t you have paperwork?’ I wondered, but couldn’t stop myself from subconsciously holding him tighter at the prospect of him leaving me.

‘No, I finished it on the jet, had a feeling we’d both need each other’s company tonight.’ He smiled, caressing the side of my face and bringing my lips to his as my eyes fluttered closed at his touch. 

I didn’t notice the surprise on five of the six agents faces as they saw our familiarity that clearly hinted at a romantic relationship. The sixth agent was grinning at seeing Reid so comfortable and clearly unbelievably happy around me, well, that and the sight of the shock on her family’s faces. I was too wrapped up in how Reid’s lips felt against mine; warm, soft and comforting that I couldn’t have told you my own name if you’d asked me in that moment. As the doors slid closed, Spencer broke the kiss, resting his forehead against mine as we both regained our breath.

‘I think the cats out of the bag,’ he murmured, his eyes glittering with mirth.

‘They didn’t know?’ I frowned; I’d figured Spence had told them who I was when he’d suggested me for the job.

‘No, I wanted you to know you got the job because of how amazing your technical analyst skills are, not because of your connection to me.’ He explained, his hands moving through my hair as he spoke.

I felt my eyes soften and I was pretty sure I felt my heart fall a little bit deeper in love with the brilliant, wonderful, considerate man in front of me. I noticed he was avoiding my eyes, probably because he was afraid of how I’d react at his team knowing we were together.

‘I love you, Spencer Reid.’ I murmured, smiling when his eyes met mine, the brown having melted to syrup as they softened, ‘and I don’t care that the team knows, you’re the most incredible man I’ve ever met, why wouldn't I want everyone knowing that I love you?’

His eyes closed for a moment, and when he spoke I could hear the emotion that he was trying so hard to control in his voice, ‘I love you too, Y/N.’

He kissed me again, this kiss was different than the relieved kiss we’d shared earlier. This one was full of love, happiness and the adoration we shared for one another. We pulled away as the elevator came to a stop, and walked out into the lobby and out of the building hand in hand. 

‘Have I ever told you how much I love seeing you in my clothes?’ He casually mentioned as we walked to his car— I’d gotten the bus this morning seeing as he’d had to come in before me.

‘Hmm...’ I pursed my lips, pretending to give it some thought, ‘no I don’t think you have.’ I teased, knowing that he told me every time I “borrowed” his cardigans, shirts or T-shirts. 

‘Well I really love it.’ He smiled, caressing my face as he murmured, ‘I love how you borrow my clothes because they smell like me, and because they make you feel safe and remind you that you’re loved.’

I felt tears form in my eyes, once again blown away by his perceptiveness, at how well he knew me. I didn’t know what to say, other than once again tell him how much I loved him, because what was there to say to that? I wanted to tell him how much it meant to me that he knew me so well, that he took the time to understand me in a way that no one else ever had, but I just couldn’t get my lips to form the words. But I didn’t need to, because he already knew how much he meant to me, how much I adored him, how I couldn’t bear to be without him. It was obvious in the way his eyes softened as he observed me, the gentle way he tucked my hair behind my ear and the kind but firm way he held my hand. He knew me better than anyone else, and I knew that it was the same for him too. Spencer was my other half, and words couldn’t adequately describe how grateful I was to have him in my world as the love of my life and my best friend.

A/N: @synthemo I don’t know if this is what you envisioned, but this is where I went with it. I know I went a little OTT with the fluff, but what can I say, I’m an addict when it comes to fluffy moments with Spencer Reid. I hope you liked it && I’ll try and get through some of your other requests when I’m off work later in the week! ☺️

[jaskiersvalley]

Tumblr was being a Big Bitch and reset my scrolling about 4 times before I could get to the end of your blog. You’re incredibly talented and dedicated to write so much, it’s inspiring! Thank you for being you, I hope you’re safe during these trying times!

I swear that with each new ‘update’ Tumblr breaks a little more. It is one of the charms of the site, right? Watching you blast through the blog was amazing. Thank you for all the notification pings :) Hope you’re safe and able to relax during these wild times! <3

The first winter Jaskier had at Kaaer Morhen was miserable. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration but it was most definitely not one that he enjoyed. Except for the mind (and back) blowing sex that made up a large part of winter because there was not much else to do. Throughout the season, the witchers trained, hunted and bickered. Gwent was played with increasingly twisted rules and Jaskier couldn’t keep up. He had come to the conclusion that the witchers were bored, cooped up in a crumbling old keep for months on end. There was only so much relaxing and downtime they could take before they were raring to go again. So when the invitation for a second winter at Kaer Morhen was offered to Jaskier, he began plotting.

Witcher enrichment activities were difficult to come by, no market stall really catered to such a niche area. So Jaskier was going to have to get creative. Over the course of the year, he stocked up on things which might be useful: small gadgets, a cryptex or two, some miniature throwing knives and a whole host of other knickknacks which seemed like a great idea at the time. It seemed less great when he had to lug it all up to the keep where the witchers were already gathered.

They had about a week of peace before the first wrestling match broke out between Eskel and Geralt. It was over the question of who should to the dishes and who should dry them. Only Vesemir fisting the back of Lambert’s shirt stopped him from bundling in. It was time for Jaskier to start his new programme.

The following morning, Jaskier had gone out and hidden a dozen red pebbles around the keep and the surrounding area. He walked all over the place to hide his scent and when the witchers finished their morning training, Jaskier was ready.

“You have a task,” he announced, holding a red pebble aloft. “There are twelve such pebbles hidden around Kaer Morhen’s grounds. The one who brings me most of them will get a prize.” Here, he pulled out a lavender infused cuddly rabbit. At first, nobody moved, none of the witchers wanted to look like they were keen to compete for such a ridiculous prize. However, after a few sly looks, they all seemed to slink off, even Vesemir looked shifty. He claimed he was only checking the keep was in order but Jaskier spotted him slip a red pebble into his pocket in the library.

By late afternoon, Lambert appeared, looking quite proud as he presented Jaskier with five red pebbles. Vesemir had three while Eskel and Lambert had two each. Nobody saw the rabbit but the other witchers could all smell hints of lavender on Lambert each morning, suspiciously like he had been cuddling the toys throughout the night.

Sometimes, the witchers’ restlessness was less pronounced. More than once Jaskier had caught Eskel prowling the ramparts, guarding and defensive without any threat to take his frustrations out on. The cryptex had been for him mostly and when Jaskier spotted that he was stalking around the keep again, he brought a cryptex to him.

“I couldn’t crack it, help?” Not even waiting for an answer, Jaskier pressed it into Eskel’s hand and wandered off. He was pleased to see Eskel settled into an armchair by the fire for the next two days, delicately trying to open up the cryptex without breaking the glass. When he finally got it open, a small vial of scented oils rolled out into Eskel’s palm. It would help him relax in the bath for a while.

When Vesemir started snapping at his pups, Jaskier had just the thing for him. He’d spent a good chunk of the year learning a book by heart, one that was filled with riddles.

“I am all around you until you call my name at which point I’m gone. What am I?” he asked Vesemir.

There was a special kind of delight in watching the old wolf mull over the riddle, trying to figure it out. And when he got one right, Jaskier was immediately giving him another one.

Meanwhile, Lambert was getting antsy again. So Jaskier set up a larger hunt just for him. It all started off with a puzzle box. One that didn’t have any glass in it so if Lambert got frustrated and broke it, it wouldn’t ruin his fun. The puzzle box opened up to give him a clue of where to find the next clue. Some of them were more puzzle boxes or a cryptex (with a warning to be careful attached) while others were riddles and codes for him to decipher. In the end, it took Lambert four days of solid work to finally get his prize: a hug from Jaskier.

Of course, while it was fun to do individual challenges for the witchers, they still enjoyed competing against each other. One breakfast, their plates were empty save for a large puzzle box each. They were all identical and the smell of dried fruits emanated from them. It was a race not just to get to their food but also bragging rights of being the fastest to open the toy.

In a way, Geralt was the most difficult to keep entertained because he had seen some of the toys Jaskier had acquired. Though he was still stunned by a couple of the Gwent cards Jaskier had managed to smuggle home without him knowing. They made for some great treats to find hidden in crevices randomly throughout the keep. Plus Jaskier did have the benefit of being able to push him up against the nearest surface and blowing him if nobody else was around. So even if Geralt didn’t seem to get as much attention as the others, it was safe to say Jaskier took good care of him too.

With all the witchers taken care of and kept busy, Jaskier was content and happy too. He loved watching them pout and frown over a more difficult toys Jaskier put in front of them, only to smile widely when they solved it. As predicted, the miniature throwing knives were a big hit, Eskel hoarded them with a fierce protectiveness while the others tried to steal them. It was just as well that there were four in the set so each witcher could end up with one - almost like Jaskier had planned it like that.

By the end of winter, everyone seemed happy. Keen to get back on the path but not half out of their mind with the need to go. Vesemir clapped Jaskier on the shoulder.

“Thank you.”

It had Jaskier smiling, proud but also not wanting to rub it in Vesemir’s face. “It’s my pleasure.”

“Yeah, well, we weren’t sure you’d realise.” Maybe they weren’t talking about the same thing. “I mean, we love having you here and knowing that you love Geralt. But last year was a bit much.”

“Oh?” Jaskier’s voice was strangled as he tried to figure out just what was going on.

“You know, all the noise and the smell. We’re happy for you and Geralt but even we have our limits. So thank you for bringing all these games with you this year. Our ears and noses truly appreciated it.”

Face falling Jaskier stared past Vesemir’s head and at the wall. All winter he thought he had been keeping the wolves occupied. In turn, they thought they were keeping him busy and away from sex. Next year Jaskier was dragging Geralt to Oxenfurt.

[rosesgonerogue]

How to be a Dad 101

Chapter Four - Villain AU

Jasonette July Day Five

Masterlist

“Marinette, Alya is here!” Sabine called up the stairs.

“Thanks Maman, I’ll see you later!” Marinette called back, launching herself down. Sure enough, her best friend was waiting for her at the bakery’s front door. “Nino isn’t with you?”

“He’s helping Chris get all of the kids settled, the sucker,” Alya said, though Marinette couldn’t tell which Lahiffe boy was being called the sucker.

“Are we sure that Chris can handle all the kids at once?” Marinette asked, admittedly nervous.

“No,” Alya said matter-of-factly. “But Nora is going to drop in on then to make sure everything is okay.”

“But are you sure? I just feel bad, you know Jules has been biting. Maybe I should—”

“If you were going to finish that sentence with ‘stay with the kids,’ I will strangle you, Marinette. I love you girl, but it has been three months since I’ve gone somewhere and not taken a diaper bag with me, and I know it’s been way longer than that for you. Give me tonight.”

“Okay, okay, I get it, Alya,” Marinette said, holding up her hands. “I will leave things in Chris’s questionable hands.”

Alya softened a bit. “Look, I get it. Next time we’ll try to plan for a day when Manon is available, she’s really good with the kids.

“Deal. So have we heard if everyone is going to make it tonight?”

“Almost everyone. Adrien and Kagami might be a little late? Rose has a fundraiser she has to be at tonight, but other than that I think we’re a go.”

“Wow, it’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this,” Marinette said. “It’ll almost feel like old times.”

“It sounds like Max is finally letting us meet his wife. I think Kim has a running bet on whether or not she’s a robot.”

“Kim is still on that? He’s probably just jealous that Max beat him to getting married even though he hasn’t known Camille very long.”

“Hold up girl, you know Max’s wife’s name?” Alya demanded. “Spill.”

“It was nothing much, I only know her because I made her wedding dress,” Marinette said, pausing at the sidewalk corner. “Do we go left or right?”

“Right. But how did you not tell me this?” Alya demanded.

“Even though we’re school friends, I still have to maintain a certain level of professionality. I can’t go tell Paris’s most promising reporter about one of the world’s most promising computer programmers personal life. Besides, Max really wanted to surprise everyone,” Marinette said, smirking. “The dress was one of my finest creations yet.”

“Fine, I suppose I can’t compromise one of the world’s most promising young designers,” Alya huffed. “But she has good taste? This gets more mysterious by the moment.”

“So who picked the place this time? I know we’re trusting Chris with the kids, but you know how Kim gets when we go to his bar, and I don’t know if I trust Chris to watch them all night because we got a little tipsy or something.”

“Well, it is at Kim’s bar, but don’t worry, he’ll be too distracted by Max, so we won’t even be tempted by all of the free alcohol. Besides, you always seem like such a pro at resisting temptation.”

Getting to Kim’s bar didn’t take long, even on foot. Once there, a good portion of their high school class yelled greetings from the back of the bar.

“Alya, Marinette! Good to see you, but where’s Nino?” Kim asked, opening the door for them.

“He’s helping Chris get the kids situated, he’ll be here soon,” Alya said, hugging the muscular man. “Is Max here yet? I hear we get to meet the wife.”

“Yeah, she’s way out of his league,” Kim said, jabbing a thumb towards the corner of the bar.

As much as Marinette had complained, she couldn’t help but smile upon coming into the bar. Kim had fallen into the role of bartender easily, amusing his patrons with tales of akumas and the Miraculous team – although tales of King Monkey were definitely the most popular. It was a clean, warm space, decorated with murals and framed newspaper clippings about any akuma incidents involving their class.

“You must’ve been desperate if Chris is babysitting,” Adrien said, sidling up next to her. “Manon was busy?”

“She had a study group,” Marinette said, bumping his shoulder with hers. While she considered Alya her best friend, Adrien still was, and always would be her partner, the black cat to her ladybug. He knew her mind in ways that no one else ever could. “You caught me. So what do you think of Max’s wife? I think she’s absolutely adorable.”

“Marinette, you knew about Max’s wedding?” someone yelled, positively betrayed.

“I think it’s time for s to join the others, but for the record I completely agree with you.” Adrien offered her an arm to escort her to the rest of the group. “By the way, Kagami says hello.”

“How is pregnancy treating your lovely wife?”

“Oh, the normal. The cravings, the irrational anger, average pregnancy-type things. The last time I mentioned you she nearly skewered me with a fire poker and told me that if I spoke about any other woman that way she would kill me where I stood. After that she cried for a few minutes because she missed you.”

“It sounds like I need to pay her a visit,” Marinette said brightly.

“So we’re just ignoring the part where my life was in danger, typical. I should have known that you would side with her,” Adrien pouted.

“You can complain to me when you’ve been pregnant,” Marinette said, patting his cheek.

“I’d like to think I’m a fairly decent husband, so I would say I’m allowed to be a little offended by threats of homicide.”

“No, that’s just pregnancy,” Nino said, his version of a grand entrance. “The more violent they are means you’re taking good care of them.”

By this point they’d gotten to the larger group, and Max’s wife, Camille, a sweet, auburn-haired woman, brightened. “Marinette, it’s lovely to see you again!”

“Wait, you really did know about this too, Marinette?!” Kim demanded.

“Client confidentiality, Kim,” Marinette said with a wicked smile. “Rose can’t make it, so everyone is officially here, Camille.”

“Oh, perfect,” she said, clapping her hands. “Max and I have an announcement to make!”

“Don’t tell me you’re already having a kid!” Alix groaned. “All of you are making it even more sucky to be single right now.”

“We came to invite you to our wedding,” Max said, pushing up his glasses.

“Excuse me, what?” Chloe asked.

“What we did before was just a little ceremony in England for Camille’s parents. Did you guys really think I could get married without all of you?”

There were a few beats of silence before chaos erupted. Kim had Max in a headlock while at least three of the girls were asking Camille about wedding plans. Nearby Alix was still sulking about being single.

When everyone settled down, Mylene said, “We’re getting old, aren’t we?”

“I’m going to die alone,” Alix lamented.

“We’re still in our twenties,” Marinette reminded her. “We’ve got time.”

“But if you’re still single how do any of the rest of us stand a chance?” she demanded.

“Oh yeah. Sometimes I forget that Marinette is still single because of the whole…” he waved his hand, indicating things he couldn’t put words to, “… situation.”

“Exactly!” Alix spat. “She’s perfect, she makes a perfect mother, and she’s handling everything better alone than any of us can with a significant other! I’m doomed!”

“But Marinette is still looking, just like you, Alix,” Mylene pointed out. “She just did things a little out of order.”

“And I’m not perfect, I promise you,” Marinette said with the weariness that could only be a product of parenthood.

“Is Jules still in a biting phase?” Sabrina asked.

“Unfortunately yes,” Alya said with that same weariness.

“Since we’re on the topic, what was the baby daddy even like?” Kim asked. “We haven’t heard much about him, and from what little I’ve heard, I can’t help but picture him as one of those old cartoon villains twirling his mustache and preying on young girls.”

“Villain works. Although I would have called him a lying, scheming—” Adrien cut off, glancing at the young parents he was situated between, Marinette in particular was known for body-checking people if they used any sort of questionable language regardless of if there was a child present, “-scheming meanie pants,” he finished lamely.

“It’s okay, Adrien, this is a safe zone,” Alya said, patting his shoulder. “You can tell them that Jason is a bastard.”

Nathaniel inhaled sharply, choking on his drink. “Wow… I just… What would you say about him, Marinette?”

“I wouldn’t call him that,” Marinette said, ignoring Alya and Adrien’s protests. “Really, I had no misconceptions about the way things were. We never gave each other our numbers, or even our last names. Something bigger than both of us brought us together, and I don’t regret it. If I’m lucky, maybe it will bring us together once more.”

The class fell silent until Alix groaned once more, burying her head in her arms. “I’M GOING TO DIE ALONE!”

Taglist: 

@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3 @dast218 @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm  @vixen-uchiha @momothefemur @toodaloo-kangaroo

Note: 

I thought this chapter would barely meet the word limit I’ve set for myself, but that was not a problem. If you want to be tagged, or if I forgot to tag you, just leave a comment below. Also just leave a comment below regardless, I’ve been helping my family move all week and I need something to keep me sane. In all reality, though, I write like this mainly to improve my skills as well as get feedback on them, so I appreciate any comment you send my way. 

This story is also really different from what I normally write. Despite the premise, it’s WAY more slice of life than I’ve ever done long-term like this, so I especially want to hear your reactions on this! 

[miathecinnabunny]

Space AU and Time Travel for Juke 👀 <33

Holy shit holy shit holy shit ok ok ok ok first of all AKDBJSJSJJEJE YES

Okay okay so let me try to iron out the mess in my head skxbjsjjd I hereby apologize if things get out of order or whatever but I am literally vibrating with excitement someone please write this I'll love you forever

Ok so I'm thinking also an aged up au for ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* reasons *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ sjsnnsn

Also, I've done this before and I'm gonna do it again, but Bobby and Trevor are two different people for the sake of the timeline here.

Time frame for this would be WAY into the future. Humanity has gone galactic. We also had our asses handed to us by several alien planets but we probably deserved it. Anyway, after we got rid of Elon Musk, we eventually made peace with the aliens and now roam the galaxy freely. 20-30yo generally try to get into a different fleet, just to learn about other races. Think all those alien ships adopts a human posts.

Julie, Carrie and Flynn are my three girl geniuses. They're like,,, the smartest people in every room. They've been like this since freshman year of college. Julie, Carrie and Flynn also all want to get into the student exchange program, which is exactly what you think it is. Alien races (and this now includes humanity) swaps out older students with each other so they get a feel of what the other race is like. It's fun, educational, and! You get to make super long distance pen pals!

I'd also have so much fun making up new memes???? It would be so fucking stupid tho but I love it.

Anyway, so after a few years of jumping through the exchange programme, hoping from planet to planet, unfortunately, without their bestfriends :<, the three of them qualify to board research ships!!!

So at like 23-25, my girls come back together on the same ship!! Its a massive thing and so they've hired so many interns from so many different races. It's like a landing hub for several smaller ships. They have like 10 interns per species and that's only because there are laws against having too many of one kind after they put 50 humans on a space station and the humans tried to take over. Also, humans multiply faster than the others. This terrifies some races.

Anyway, the ship's really just a bunch of college kids from different planets trying to avoid exam season by submitting research papers from their ship. They all bond over deadlines, breakups and coffee (or the alien equivalent thereof)

Flynn dated an alien girl for a while. They were cute. Flynn: as a lesbian, it's my duty to date all the women in space

This is also where they run into Willie!!! Yay, Willie!!!

Nick Danforth-Evans and Kayla Evans-McKessie are around ... somewhere ... in bunk beds like the little toddlers they wish they were, crying about the 15 page essay on why Xjsbsjdjd is a very intelligent race that we could learn a lot from (yes, that is a keysmash I'm too buzzed to be creating alien species names sjdjjdjd)

Carrie and Nick do date for a while but then Carrie hooked up with Kayla. Bisexual queen who?

Julie met Willie that time she didn't sleep for over 48 hours because she had a research paper due within a week and she hadn't started yet and it was 10 000 words on her experiences with the Psjxjjdkeiwj race. Luckily for her, the kid she bumped into and spilled an energy drink all over had the same paper and helped her finish it. Willie sometimes goes by the nickname Lifesaver, thanks to Julie. This confuses the metaphor-less people because Willie's never saved anyone's life?? So why is he a lifesaver??

ANYWAY ON TO THE TIME TRAVEL BIT

On their own, Julie, Carrie and Flynn are professional smart people who know what they're saying and are clever enough not to do things with too many risks. In the same room, however, they turn into dumb geniuses who can and possibly may blow up the entire ship. It's a good thing they have Willie, Nick and Kayla to babysit them, right? WRONG. Willie Kayla and Nick egg them on.

They decide there going to gather all the information there is on time travel and they're going to decipher it and make it work! Yay!

When they find stuff in alien languages they start calling up their alien pen pals "hello what's this word mean in this context? What, haha oh no, it's a research paper on why time travel projects were abandoned before completion. Okay, thank you!"

Before long, they have a working time machine. I mean,, they hope so. And so they enter a random date from the past and prepare to pop their heads through just to see what the world looked like approximately 200ish years ago

2020s, post covid because that exists for joke reasons later, Sunset Curve is performing live for one of their biggest audiences yet when mid-song, the floor just opens them up and swallows them whole before vanishing. The crowd things it's a stunt but Sunset Curve's managers are flipping their shit

Back on the ship, the machine starts sparking and with a soft boom and a hiss, the power in that quadrant goes out -- not before Willie's is pelted in the face with a pair of drumsticks and then a whole person.

It's a miracle the drums survived the trip, pet alone everything else.

So now these sleep deprived geniuses and co. have to hide three people and several musical artifacts, plus the smoking remains of a time machine, from their Supervising Officer, who is regrettably, a human too.

And none of them are very good at lying.

Luke and Bobby are though, and after piecing together bits and pieces from the frenzied rambling around them, Luke and Bobby save the group.

Shenanigans ensue as they try to rebuild the time machine under the watchful eye of the SO, while trying to mantainbfake credentials for the boys and trying to explain their very dated clothing. (Yes, Sunset Curve STILL rocks the 90s vibe. In the 2020s. It's their thing.)

Willex happens in the background -- and I mean that very literally. (Jukebox having a tension moment, Willex making out in the background.)

Honestly I'm not sure yet how theyd solve the problems, whether they'd send the boys back or not or what, but I do know that they will all cause a BUNCH of problems in between.

Sometimes they play music just because they still can. Sunset Curve becomes a house band for the ship. They get broadcasted to neighbouring or passing ships like "hey, losers, we have live music, SUCK IT!"

Focusing on the jukebox aspect of this whole fic, that's gonna be a fucking hilarious slow burn.

It will definitely contain the lines "Oh my god, I have a crush on Julie." "Congratulations, you're officially the last to know." "What? Even [SO's Name] knows??" "Dude. The ship's navigation crew knows." "Does ... Julie know?" "No, you're both morons."

Julie is having the exact same conversation four hallways away.

They'd talk a lot about sending the boys back home and it'd be really quiet conversations when everyone else is asleep.

Julie and Luke write music together and after a while, Julie performs a few of them too. Thanks to the concerts, they meet the other human interns that were on the other end of the ship and Carrie and Kayla form Dirty Candy.

The ship becomes known as the party bus.

A thing that will happen: Luke helps Julie write one of her history papers that she gets an A+ for and a comment about how dedicated she was to have delved so far back in the history records to get authentic insight.

Julie and Luke speak in memes but they don't speak the same memes and it drives them both up the wall.

Luke says yeet one day and Julie's soul leaves her body because she hasn't heard anyone say yeet since she was a toddler back on Earth.

Julie: odd display, but acceptable.

Luke, physically experiencing a record scratch: what the fuck did you just say

That is all I have to offer because I'm afraid of plotting further and causing angst somehow.

oh one more thing, someone gets to bang an alien and it's probably Flynn.

Oh oh oh another one more thing. Reggie says "this is just like in Star Wars" for literally anything. The band goes along with it for shits and giggles. The rest of them are very interested in this ancient tale called Star Wars. Reggie sees a picture of Flynn and her green gf and says "hey, you dated photoshopped Yoda" and Bobby just loses his shit.

[queer-as-used-by-tolkien]

13 right back at you! Also 15 if it doesn't get too long.

13 - explain how mesmers work!

I've actually done a lot of thinking about this and it is, of course, heavily entwined with my theory of how magic works in general, but I'll try to keep it simple.

I got this idea of magic from the Aspects of Glint - Wind, Sun, and Lightning - and so to make things simpler I went ahead and named the different types of magic, at least as far as I could see them. Mesmer magic is called the Aspect of Deception, which actually correlates to one of the schools of magic we get from Bloodstones. (That was completely accidental.)

Also, I completely agree with your idea that some mesmers are good at manipulating the physical world and some are good at manipulating your mind - I've mostly thought about the ones that are good at manipulating the physical world, so most of the following only applies to them.

But anyway, the idea is that mesmers and thieves both use the Aspect of Deception. At first I thought the difference between a mesmer and a thief was just power, but I've refined that somewhat: mesmers specialize in convincing you that you can't trust your senses. You know what you're seeing is wrong - but only half the time. You're not sure what's real and what's not. Thieves, on the other hand, specialize in convincing you that everything is perfectly normal when it isn't. The thief isn't here practicing his thievery, for example - he's invisible. Thieves do use mesmer-esque spells on occasion, which is where I got the idea they're linked - one of their elites summons three clones (which is why I thought the difference was power, because that's an everyday mesmer thing).

As for clones and illusions: well, most of this derives from what we see in-game mesmers doing - you can make a clone or illusion of another person than yourself, you can disguise a person as someone else, etc. and of course this doesn't just extend to people.

Illusions can be just visual apparitions if you want them to, with no substance, like ghosts; these of course take less power. I also believe that mesmers can manipulate the other senses, though we don't see this much in-game; a mesmer can make you hear things, smell things, etc. Each one is different, though, so it's sort of like if your field is the Aspect of Deception, there are many subschools and most mesmers specialize is visual and physical effects since those are the most useful.

By 'physical' I mean illusions that you can touch and feel, which are more common among mesmers. The idea is that you concentrate power in the illusion, more and more power until it's so concentrated it's physically there, takes up physical space and you can feel it. Clones and illusions are just highly, highly concentrated magic, given form by your mind. Then when you shatter them, this magic kind of breaks and splinters all over the place, and some of it goes into your enemies and hurts them. That is complicated and I'll leave it for another time.

But here's the thing: illusions of people are ridiculously complex, and either you need to have a very focused mind that is also capable of multitasking, or that's not exactly how it works. I think your idea of how people are shaped is a generally subconscious assumption, so if you tell your magic 'hey look like a person,' it'll know what a person is and form into the shape of a person based on your subconscious pattern. Illusions of yourself are quite clearly easier, because you have a much better idea of what you are physically than someone else, and it does take active concentration to remember that this clone is supposed to look like that guy instead.

But the cool part is that since the clones are based on your subconscious understanding of how people are shaped, these clones are perfectly viable people on their own, except that they're made of magic and have no will but yours. This means that they get sensory input, which really feeds into your brain and it takes a lot of training to separate out these various inputs. But this is how, for example, you could have a clone go spy out a place and convey that information to you; you could also control the illusion through a conversation or really any other task that most people would expect from a person. You can of course also channel magic through a clone, because this is what clones exist for in the mechanics of the game - another source of damage.

I've heard theories that mesmer illusions are more or less programmable; for example, this illusion is pacing back and forth, but it would of course take the same exact steps every time and if someone watched long enough they might notice. I haven't really thought about it, but I feel that if you were distracted enough to have to give a set of commands to an illusion that it then carries out to the best of its ability, or pre-program it - if that's necessary, you're probably not focusing enough to keep the illusion there in the first place, and also it doesn't have a mind of its own to be able to 'follow commands to the best of its ability.'

Now, on to the cool part: teleportation. I've explained clones because those are relevant to how thieves shadowstep, which is basically that they make a clone of themselves at another location, and then take the sensory input and use that to focus their whole mind through to the clone until that's where their mind is - and if you put enough magic into a clone, of course, it's no longer just made of magic but it manifests as flesh and blood (not just the illusion of feeling like flesh and blood), and since your magical core carries that kind of magic that happens naturally when you transfer your consciousness there. Of course, any given thief will have done this countless times before, so most thieves are walking around in these magically-constructed bodies, and when you switch to a new one the magic dissipates or shatters or something. That's how I imagine it, and I haven't actually thought about what happened to their original body. It probably just died from lack of a mind. On the other hand, you could totally headcanon that thieves always have to go back for their 'real' bodies, but that's less fun...

But the really cool part about the shadowstepping system of teleportation is that mesmers can't do it. Or, they can - that's what blinks are - but it's super dangerous. Thieves don't use clones all that much - summoning them is an elite skill (unless they're shadowstepping) - but mesmers use clones all the time, and since the sensory input can be used to transfer your consciousness into a clone, it can actually be very easy for a mesmer to mix up and forget which of the four identical people on the battlefield is their own self. So mesmers need to have a very concrete idea about which one is their own self, and if they make a habit of shadowstepping their minds into other clones, that's nearly impossible. Some mesmers can do it, of course, and that's why you have the blink skill, but the risk vs reward is relatively low.

What's the problem with getting who you are confused? Well, that's because it has to be very intentional when you shadowstep - you have to know where you are and where you're going. If you're just mistakenly looking through the eyes of the wrong person, and haven't actually transferred your magical core there, the real you might be in danger and die, and then you're gone. So most mesmers don't do it at all even if they theoretically have the mental capacity or skill to do it without much danger.

Mesmers just use portals instead, which bend space and time sort of like a Tesseract (if you've read A Wrinkle in Time), which brings two points in space together momentarily. I have thought that I need to think about portals just a little bit more - to figure out what exactly the process of moving from Point A to Point B is - more like an asura gate, where theoretically you could stick an arm through but not your whole self, or is more like elevators in cities that just take your whole self if you enter the field. I don't know yet, but I'm slightly leaning toward the second one.

Also: chronomancy! I have thought about this a little. (Sorry Mirages, I haven't thought about you at all...) You can't actually rewind time, of course - even some of the skill descriptions say that time 'snaps back' when you're done with the spell, causing additional effects. I've seen an ask response on this topic that says it's all in your mind, but I don't think so, at least not for the physical, world-manipulating mesmers.

Chronomancy requires a load of power, because, inside the spell radius, you've said 'turn time back to X state' or else 'rewind time until I say stop' and, like making illusions, the details of this are mostly subconscious. But what it does is it takes all physical entities and moves them backwards in order to simulate time rewinding. Chronomancy does have a mental component, of course, and that is that it makes everyone but the caster forget about the intervening time, creating the illusion (hehe) that no time has passed. Advanced chronomancers, of course, can specify this and prevent their allies from forgetting - or, if they're being particularly confusing, prevent their enemies from forgetting, or prevent one enemy from forgetting so he starts sounding like a lunatic. This can also heal! If you're moving things backwards through time, that includes healing wounds back to their former state.

Also, and I just remembered this, but you can make a non-person illusion convey sensory input. I have one character who shot a bullet (he's a thief) and, upon impact, granted him one second of vision of what was going on over there. You can also silence things like guns, you can block out all noisy distracting. Also, this thief actually set up a recording of some epic soundtrack played at inaudible volume inside his rifle and used the Aspect of Deception to make a sort of sound-proof bubble around himself, and then used magic to magnify the epic soundtrack so he could feel like a hero on the battlefield. (He has a very strong sense of drama XD... his friends roll their eyes at him.)

I also have my main mesmer character use this 'sound proof bubble' concept to have private conversations in busy places, and a sort of variant of it - catching the sound out of a person's mouth and carrying it to her ears, and throwing her own voice into their ears - to silently communicate across greater distances while trying to be sneaky. Sort of like magical ventriloquism, I guess.

So, that's all for mesmerism! I know I focused on thieves a bit, but it was significantly within the scope of the question and I fell like the spirit of the question includes them, given my headcanons.

Thanks for asking! I've been carrying these theories around in my head for quite some time and weaving them into my stories, it was nice to be able to try to express them eloquently all in one place!

Now, you said '15 if it doesn't get too long,' and the prompt mentions quaggan (...and dredge?) but I'll just tag you on a separate post. (It'll be shorter, I promise!)

[iffeelscouldkill]

say what we wanna do, make it all come true (chapter 1)

A/N: It is! My fic for the Fiction Podcast Big Bang @podcastbigbang! I am a bit terrified to be posting this after working on it for so long! Also this is in the running for the Longest TSCOSI Fic I’ve Written So Far (not sure if it’s the longest because I don’t remember where my wordcount is up to for Adjusting, but like... it’s long, guys). This is Chapter 1 of 3, and the remaining chapters will be posted weekly!

You can read this on AO3 where the formatting is honestly much better, but here it is on Tumblr anyway. Also, please check out the FANTASTIC artwork made for this fic by the wonderful @bluereadingdolphin and @demonic-kitkats, who are my artists for this fic and their artwork is so good, you guys, I’m in love and they did such a phenomenal job with the honestly pretty vague info they got from me 😂 

bluereadingdolphin’s piece

demonic-kitkat’s piece (from Chapter 2!)

Please give them all the love!

Content warnings: There is a relatively brief physical altercation described in this chapter, but it isn’t graphic or bloody.

Also, I play a little fast and loose with POV in this; the first section is told from Sana’s perspective, the rest from Arkady’s.

---

“Hello and welcome back to Radio Indie, Folk and Techno, also known as RIFT, where we play all the bands that matter outside of the mainstream! I’m Piper Tanaka, and I’m your co-host for this programme! I’m joined as usual by the lovely Kestrel Colvin, with Reina Sakamachi in the booth! Now – where were we?”

“You were introducing our guests for this next section,” Kestrel replied in a slightly despairing tone.

“Right! Indie fans, I am joined today by two members of the fabulous up-and-coming indie band Rumor! With me in the studio are frontwoman and lead guitarist Sana Tripathi—”

“Hey! It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“—and bad girl bassist Arkady Patel.”

“Bad girl?” Arkady repeated, sounding halfway between taken aback and annoyed. Kestrel just shook her head.

“Ignore her. She’s got a thing for a certain… aesthetic.”

Next to Arkady, Sana was doing an incredibly poor job of hiding her laughter. “It’s the combat boots,” she whispered to Arkady.

“These are practical,” Arkady told her in a tone that suggested they’d had this conversation a few times. Sana said nothing, but straightened back up with a smirk.

“Sana — or should I call you ‘Captain’?” Piper began playfully. Sana grimaced.

“In hindsight, it was a poor choice to share that nickname in an interview.”

“You know, I think it suits you,” said Piper. “There’s something commanding about your aura. Sana, you and the band — which I understand you and Arkady originally started as a duo a few years ago—”

“That’s right,” Sana confirmed.

“You’ve always had a dedicated and loyal following, even from your early days — and we’re proud to have been playing your music here on this station for almost as long — but I think it’s fair to say the past few months have seen that rocket to a whole new level,” Piper said. “You got signed to a record label belonging to the mysterious but notoriously discerning Red Gregor, are working on your second album, and played a major gig at the CUI stadium just a few weeks ago. And we are definitely going to talk later about what went down at that gig, which is already the stuff of online legend — but first I want to backtrack a little, because I think the moment that everything started happening for you was when you added a new member to your band. In the middle of a gig, if the rumours are true. Can you tell us how that happened?”

Sana and Arkady exchanged a sidelong glance, and Arkady gave Sana a tiny nod. Sana took a deep breath, and began to tell the story.

---

“Jeeter, for the last time, put the keytar away,” Arkady said irritably as she and Sana entered the draughty, abandoned warehouse that the band was using as their current rehearsal space. The acoustics were pretty weird, probably due to all the broken windows, but it was otherwise hard to beat a free place to rehearse — especially a free place with no asshole neighbours who would yell at them to turn it down and threaten to call the cops.

Admittedly, it was in kind of a rough area, but Arkady had only needed to knock someone unconscious with her bass once.

In retaliation, Brian played another bright riff on his beloved instrument, accompanied by some jazzy keyboard chords from Krejjh. The two had been jamming together before Arkady and Sana arrived. “Dude, c’mon, can’t you hear how good this sounds?” Brian wheedled. “How many other indie bands do you know that have a keytar?”

“None. For good reason,” Arkady said, unzipping her case and slinging her bass around her neck. Sana, unpacking the sound equipment, smiled in fond amusement at their well-worn argument.

“It would give us such a great edge! Totally unique. And Krejjh and I have so many ideas that would sound great with both instruments—”

“Okay, Jeeter,” Arkady interrupted him, twiddling one of her tuning pegs. “You can play the keytar. Just as soon as you find us someone else who can play the drums.” She stooped to plug her bass into the portable amplifier that Sana had just unpacked. “Or are you planning to grow an extra pair of hands so you can play both at once?”

“Oooh! No, I should have an extra pair of hands!” Krejjh immediately (and predictably) enthused. “Then I’d sound four times as awesome! Four hands, all rockin’ out!”

“I think you mean ‘twice as awesome’,” Sana told them, as Brian reluctantly put away his keytar and picked up his neglected drumsticks.

“With me, twice the hands equals four times the awesome,” Krejjh replied with irrefutable logic. Brian laughed and held up a hand.

“Dude, high five.”

Sana waited for the two of them to finish their congratulatory high-five before she called the band to order. “Okay, guys — remember that we’re only a few days out from our gig at the IGR Corp function, so we need to have our crowd-pleasers up to standard.”

Arkady immediately wrinkled her nose. “Ugh, corporates. Why are we taking money from them again?”

“Because we need to pay for rent and food,” Sana said, bluntly. “And they’re giving us a lot for it. I know none of us love playing corporate gigs—”

“Understatement.”

“—but we are living a hand to mouth existence at this point, and if I can guarantee our survival as a band by relieving some corporates of their excess funds, then I’m going to do just that,” Sana continued. She waited a beat, and then added, “Also, we’re gonna let them get really drunk and then start playing our best anti-capitalist anthems, and see how long it takes for them to notice.”

Arkady broke into a shit-eating grin. “That’s more like it.” Krejjh cheered, and Brian did a little run-down on his drumkit, hitting each of the drums in turn.

“All right, let’s start with ‘Fear for the Storm’? One, two, three, four…” Sana started strumming the intro on her guitar, joined after a few beats by Krejjh’s melody on the keyboard.

“So long, can’t dodge the dawn, red light shines on and on and on and on and on…”

---

Arkady had been on edge ever since the band set foot in the agonisingly hipster office complex — excuse me, ‘headquarters’ — belonging to IGR Corp.

It wasn’t just the fact that these guys were extremely corporate corporates, or that the whole place radiated an almost aggressively minimalist aesthetic, or that the walls were covered in bullshit, chipper slogans that were all fancy ways of saying, ‘Work should be your existence – if isn’t, you’re dead to us’ — although those things sure as hell didn’t help, reminding her of the absolute worst parts of every soul-sucking corporate job she’d worked before Sana mercifully re-entered her life and suggested they form a band.

No, there was just this weird vibe, like everyone was super on edge and trying to hide it — the higher-ups were stone-faced, muttering into earpieces or barking orders at underlings, who scurried, terrified, to carry out their wishes. And everyone else, from the tech types in plain white T-shirts and jeans to the smartly-dressed sales reps in suits, looked like they were there on pain of death. Wasn’t this supposed to be a party?

The atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed by the other band members. “Kind of a weird feel to this place,” Jeeter remarked as he unpacked his drumkit on the raised platform at the front of the ‘rec center’ where they would be performing. Normally, setting up was a noisy, clumsy affair, with the band elbowing each other, tripping over wires, and getting in each other’s way in the tiny space they were afforded in bars and nightclubs. Here, the platform that would be their makeshift stage was huge and extremely visible — but everyone was completely ignoring them. There was also very little background noise for a room packed with people, and the band found themselves speaking in hushed murmurs, almost tiptoeing around. “You’d think there would be a bit more… chatter?”

“Maybe the alcohol just isn’t flowing yet,” Sana speculated, but she sounded uneasy as she looked out over the tense crowd. Even Krejjh, with their signature hot pink, heart-shaped sunglasses perched on top of their dyed-lavender hair, dressed in a clashing, flamboyant jumble of clothes and accessories, seemed subdued.

Arkady plugged in her bass with a burst of static, and deliberately played a loud riff. Brian startled and dropped his drumstick, but not a single member of the sea of blandly-dressed IGR Corp employees flinched.

Weird.

The sound equipment was all set up, sound check performed and instruments tuned by half past, but the set wasn’t due to start until o’clock. Normally, Arkady would be making a beeline for the bar, but she didn’t really feel like rubbing shoulders with any of these weird drones. She found herself reflexively checking the exits, mentally charting their fastest route out of there in case something really fucked up started going down. Sana half-jokingly called it paranoia; Arkady called it long, hard experience.

It was on one of her scans of the room that she noticed the woman with the septum piercing. Arkady chalked it up to professional interest — as a kid, she’d picked up some extra money working as an assistant in a tattoo and piercing shop, The Landing. She’d first met Sana there when the other woman came in on several occasions to have work done on an amazingly intricate floral sleeve tattoo — her own design. Later, Sana had led a campaign to save The Landing from being shut down over a bunch of bullshit health code violations so that the billionaire Cresswin family — who owned the property — could sell it off to a shitty corporation.

The campaign hadn’t worked, and there was now a high rise office block where Arkady’s home from home had once stood. But Arkady had never forgotten Sana.

Anyway, it was definitely the woman’s piercing and not anything else about her appearance that caught Arkady’s attention first. But then she noticed that there was something off about her body language and the way she was moving — something that Arkady recognised. She wasn’t scurrying about in a panic or affecting bored disinterest; her eyes were flickering around the room, carefully monitoring the comings and goings of the other employees while seeming not to do so. There were little devices studded around the room that Arkady had clocked as security cameras the moment they entered (it was the kind of thing she made a habit of noticing), and she saw the woman glancing up at them.

She was dressed like an employee – white blouse, dark rinse blue jeans – so why was she acting like she was casing the joint? Of course, Arkady reasoned, the outfit could easily have been chosen to blend in. It didn’t necessarily mean she worked there.

“Seen something interesting, ‘Kady?” Sana asked playfully. Arkady didn’t startle, but it was a near thing; she’d been so focused on watching this woman.

Unfortunately, Sana saw where she’d been looking. “You know, we’ve still got close to half an hour before we start our first set,” she said. “You can go and mingle.”

“I’m not here to socialise,” Arkady said witheringly. “Least of all with corporate drones.” She tore her eyes away from the woman to meet Sana’s amused look.

“I’m just saying, you seemed pretty absorbed there…” Sana said, and Arkady rolled her eyes, determined not to respond to her best friend’s teasing. She glanced back at the spot where the woman had been standing and found it empty.

A second later, Arkady had found her again, weaving through the crowd with her head ducked down. She was taking an odd route across the room that Arkady realised must have been calculated to avoid the security cameras. Occasionally she disappeared, behind people or objects (like a huge, obviously fake ficus plant), but it wasn’t hard for Arkady to spot her again. Clearly there was some kind of purpose to what she was doing, but the woman wasn’t a professional.

There was an elevator against the far wall, and as Arkady watched, the doors opened and a small group of people in suits – latecomers to the party – walked out of it. The woman mingled with them briefly, and then disappeared inside the elevator. The doors closed.

Well, that had been a way to kill five minutes, but now Arkady was stuck with nothing to do again. Krejjh and Jeeter had pulled out a pack of cards, and were playing one of their weird games on top of Krejjh’s keyboard. Arkady turned to Sana, about to make another comment about how much this place creeped her out, when she caught sight of the other person moving across the room.

Judging by the expensive suit, they were a higher-up, and were taking none of the precautions the woman had when making their way across the room, which suggested that they were confident about being allowed to do whatever it was they were doing. And to Arkady, it looked an awful lot like they were following the woman she’d seen. Based on the way the suit jacket fell, she’d also bet even money that they were armed.

Sure enough, the suit called the elevator, and disappeared into it a second later. Arkady swore under her breath.

It was none of her goddamn business whether a person she didn’t even know might be in danger, Arkady told herself. She was here to play music, not to get in the middle of whatever might be going down at this godawful corporation. Which again, was none of her business anyway.

Her resolve lasted all of ten seconds.

“I’m going to get a drink,” she told Sana, and placed her bass onto its stand.

“Oooh! Bring me a cocktail – no, a mocktail!” Krejjh said. Sana just looked at her quizzically.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

Arkady nodded briefly. “I’ll be right back,” she said, and jumped down off the platform.

She wasn’t under any illusions that Sana wouldn’t notice where she was going, and just hoped that her best friend would trust her to be back in time for the set. She slipped through the crowd, following the same path that the woman had taken to avoid the watchful eyes of the security cameras.

This worked right up until she entered the elevator, where sure enough, a security camera was embedded into the top corner. How had this woman planned to avoid getting caught?

Arkady pulled out her smartphone, and began to quickly and expertly worm her way into the closed network that IGR Corp was using for its security systems. After just a few moments, she’d managed to identify the IP address that the lift camera was using, and wow, whoever had set up this system was either incredibly lazy or was trying to lay out a welcome mat for hackers. They hadn’t bothered to change the default access password.

Arkady wound back the last few minutes of recorded video, and watched as the woman with the septum piercing pressed the button for the top floor. Arkady did the same, and as the elevator moved upwards, she introduced a glitch that would cause the security camera to loop footage of an empty elevator instead of showing who was actually inside. Then she worked to edit out the archive footage of the woman riding up in the elevator, and of herself getting in.

If it turned out that there was nothing weird going on here after all, well, she’d had some fun exploiting the corporates’ shitty security system.

But Arkady was pretty sure there was something weird going on.

The elevator came to a silent stop, and Arkady silently thanked the deities she didn’t really believe in for the fact that this place was too hipster to have an elevator that made a noise when it arrived at the right floor. The doors slid open, and Arkady immediately spotted another security camera on exiting the elevator. God, these corporates were paranoid. But apparently not paranoid enough to pay their security person to do their job properly.

Annoyingly, the security cameras for this floor seemed to be on a separate network, and Arkady started another hack as she crept down the corridor, straining her ears for the sounds of a confrontation. Further down, she saw an office door swinging open, as if someone had gone through it in a hurry. Arkady approached it, being careful to stay out of sight of the doorway. Closer to, she could hear a voice coming from inside – the suit’s, if she had to guess.

“…sure CEO Golding-Frederick will be very interested to hear just what you’re doing in her office, Ms. Liu.”

“Seiders, I can explain,” the woman – Liu – replied, her voice high with tension. “Project ADVANCE – it’s not what we’ve been told. The company is using it to-”

“What the company may or may not be doing with Project ADVANCE is not your concern,” Seiders said smoothly, over her, “and is a long way above your pay grade. But I’d be very interested to learn where you got your information from.”

“Do you know what’s going on at this company?” Liu demanded, outraged. “And that’s – you have no problems with what they’re doing?”

The closed network for the top floor of the building was much less of a pushover than the elevator, and Arkady kept half of her attention on the conversation inside the room as she worked to find a flaw in the system. Finally, she made it in, and began trying different password combinations for the camera in the hallway.

“It’s not my job to ask questions, Ms. Liu,” Seiders had been saying. “Neither is it yours. And if you value your job – not to mention the safety and security of your loved ones – you’ll step away from that computer, and go back downstairs to the party.”

“Are you threatening me? Are you threatening my family?” Liu demanded. “No, I’m not going to stay silent about this. Someone has to take a stand against what this company is doing. And if anything happens to me, that’ll only raise more questions.”

“We’re very good at making those questions go away,” said Seiders, and Arkady heard Liu suck in a breath. She moved so that she could see inside the room and shit, that was a gun. Arkady rapidly began calculating her angle of attack. “Didn’t you ever wonder what happened to Connors from Engineering?”

“That’s not – you can’t just make a person disappear,” Liu said, desperately. “I – I have insurance! Documents that I’ve sent to a friend of mine. If I don’t check in with them in two hours, they’re going to send them to a journalist contact, and it’ll be all over the press in the morning.”

Arkady could hear the lie in her voice so clearly, and she knew Seiders could, too. “If you had enough evidence to be worth a damn, you wouldn’t have broken into this office,” they replied. “I’m going to ask you one last time. Step away from the-”

Arkady slammed into the room, deliberately making as much noise as she could to draw Seiders’ attention. She took two, three steps towards them and grabbed their gun hand, forcing it down and towards the floor. She managed to hook one arm around their throat, pulling back and applying pressure. Seiders choked, struggling and jerking against Arkady’s grip. With the hand that was holding their gun hand, Arkady twisted and pulled their fingers open, causing the weapon to drop to the floor.

“Liu, grab the gun!” Arkady ordered. She saw the other woman yank something out of the computer that looked like a flash drive, stowing it inside her blouse. She dove for the gun at the same time that Seiders managed to thrust an elbow back, driving it into Arkady’s midsection.

All the air left Arkady’s lungs and as she struggled to draw a breath in, Seiders took advantage of her loosened grip to twist free. They grappled with Liu for the gun, but Liu succeeded in kicking it away, where it spun underneath a nearby cabinet. Then Arkady was on Seiders again, jumping onto their back and choking them.

She heard the sound of running footsteps, and someone else burst into the room. Arkady didn’t get a chance to see who it was before Seiders slammed their head back, knocking into Arkady’s and making bright white lights explode across her vision. She dropped to the floor and staggered, trying to clear her head.

She heard an oof and a thud, and blinked rapidly, sure that she would open her eyes to see Seiders bearing down on Liu – or worse, standing over her unconscious body.

Instead, she was greeted with the sight of Seiders crumpling like a sack of potatoes as Sana flexed her fist, having delivered a powerful uppercut that knocked them out cold.

Silence reigned for a few seconds, broken only by Liu’s sharp, panicked breaths. Rubbing her head, Arkady said, “Hey, Sana.”

“The next time you decide to go off on a rescue mission,” Sana said, wryly, “you could at least tell me where you’re going.” She frowned as she took in Arkady’s dishevelled state. “Is your head all right?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Arkady. She was more concerned with Liu, who looked like she might be on the verge of a panic attack. “Hey, uh, it’s okay. We took care of them.”

“Who-” Liu managed, taking deep breaths in and out, clearly trying to steady her breathing. “Who are you?”

Sana smiled at her, warm and reassuring. “My name is Sana Tripathi, and this is Arkady Patel. We’re-”

There was a noise that sounded not unlike a herd of elephants storming down the corridor, and Arkady closed her eyes. She had a bad feeling she knew what was about to happen. Sure enough, in the next second Krejjh and Jeeter clattered through the door in all their clashing multicoloured glory: Jeeter in his signature loud paid shirt and those stupid khakis, and Krejjh with their… everything. Most of the clattering was coming from Krejjh’s many bangles.

“Cap’n Tripathi!” Krejjh said. “We’re here to assist you with – oh my god, are they dead?” They stared at the unconscious form of Seiders on the floor.

“They’re not dead, they’re just unconscious,” Arkady said, irritated. “Did you two really take off without anyone to watch the equipment?”

Sana turned back to Liu like nothing had happened. “We’re the band,” she finished succinctly. “I’m the guitarist and lead singer, Arkady here plays the bass, and Krejjh and Brian are our keyboardist and drummer.” She indicated each of them in turn. Jeeter waved, and Krejjh saluted for some reason. “And who are you?”

Liu blinked at her. “You… you just saved my life, and you don’t even know who I am?” she said. “Why would you do that?”

“For one thing, because you’d probably be dead if we hadn’t,” Arkady said. “You’re welcome for that, by the way.” She pulled out the phone to finish the hack on the security cameras that she’d started before she entered the room.

“I – no, I know that. I’m not ungrateful,” Liu said, sounding a little stung. “I’m just a little… in shock. My name is Violet Liu,” she added to Sana. “I, uh, work in IGR Corp’s neuroresearch division.”

“Good to meet you, Violet Liu,” Sana said, sounding like they were old friends catching up at the bar instead of total strangers talking to each other over an unconscious body. “’Kady, are you erasing the security footage?”

Arkady nodded.

“Good; Brian and I will carry our friend here,” Sana indicated Seiders with her foot, “into the hallway. I think I noticed a closet there we can hide them in.”

“Uh… are you guys really the band?” Liu asked, as Sana and Jeeter – who was much stronger than he looked – bent down to pick up Seiders. “You seem very…” She struggled to find the right words. “…good at this.”

“We have some unorthodox skillsets,” Sana said, beaming and dimpling at her. “We don’t normally make a habit of rescuing people in the middle of a gig, but Arkady has a soft spot for damsels in distress.”

Arkady fumbled her phone, and nearly dropped it. “Sana,” she hissed, mortified. Sana, who was already partway out of the door, winked and disappeared into the hallway.

After a moment, Arkady realised that she and Liu were the only ones in the room, Krejjh evidently having decided to go along and supervise, or something. She refocused her attention on the hack she was carrying out; she’d managed to hack the hallway security camera, and was erasing the footage from that, but she still needed to do the one in the office.

“Uh…” Liu awkwardly broke the silence. “Is there anything that you need me to…”

“Is anyone likely to be monitoring the security cameras in real-time?” Arkady asked her. The question came out sounding a little harsher than she’d intended, but it was hard to be diplomatic when she was focused on trying to break into a security system. Also, it was a little annoying that Liu apparently hadn’t thought about security cameras beyond the ones on the ground floor.

“N-no, the system is all automated,” Liu replied. Well, that was something, at least. “I, uh, I do have a virus that I was planning to use on the security system that would corrupt the footage. I just needed to find an access point.”

Fine, so there had been a plan of sorts. “This is quicker,” Arkady told her. “And the way I’m doing it, it won’t be so obvious that someone has tampered with the footage.”

“Thank you for that,” Liu said, quietly. “And thank you for – I mean, you don’t even know me, but you came up here to help me. Why?”

Arkady shrugged, keeping her shoulders hunched and avoiding Liu’s gaze. “You looked like you were in trouble,” she said shortly. And that was the office camera done. Arkady resisted the urge to change the password to something rude, and withdrew from the network. “And I don’t like corporations. What were you trying to do, blow the whistle on them or something?”

“Um, I-”

Before she could explain, Sana poked her head back into the room. “Arkady, are you done? Because I don’t think we should be hanging around up here.”

“I’m done,” Arkady said with a nod, pocketing her phone. The two of them joined Sana, Krejjh and Jeeter in the hallway.

“We need a plan to get Violet back downstairs and out of the building without her being seen,” Sana said quickly. “’Kady, do you think you two can make it out in fifteen minutes?”

Arkady huffed. “I can hack the security cams, but I can’t actually make us invisible,” she pointed out. “People are gonna notice us. If we waited until you guys started the set, then we might have a better chance, while everyone’s attention is on the band.”

“Listen – it’s not that I don’t really appreciate the help,” Liu cut in. Her face was set, like she was preparing to go to the gallows. “But none of this needs to be your problem. It’s my mess, and I can get myself out of it. You guys should go and start your set.”

“Oh, pshaw!” said Krejjh. “We’re not just gonna leave you to the bears!”

Jeeter smiled. “To the wolves,” he corrected Krejjh.

“Are y’sure? Because bears can be pretty terrifying.”

“We’re not about to abandon you now,” Sana said to Liu, gently. “Between the five of us, I’m sure we can figure out a pretty good plan.”

“Can’t we just pretend to be loading something into the truck?” Jeeter suggested. “And Violet can help us? We could give her a band jacket – make her look like she’s with us-”

“It’s too bad you don’t play!” Krejjh said to Violet. “We could add you into the set. The ultimate entourage!”

“Uh…” Violet said (at the same time as Arkady said, “Camouflage.”) “I mean, I do play something? But you guys already have a drummer.”

“Wait, you’re a drummer?” Jeeter said delightedly, as Krejjh straightened up so fast that Arkady thought they’d pull a muscle. Even Sana looked interested. “Are you good?”

“Have you ever played with a band before?” added Sana.

Liu smiled and shrugged awkwardly. “Well, drums aren’t really a solo instrument, so yeah. I used to jam with some friends in high school, and played some underground rock concerts in college. I was never really with a band – we just sort of used to form collectives based on who was around and wanted to play. It was fun, though.”

She’d avoided answering the question about how good she was, Arkady noticed, which probably meant she was good and was being modest about it. Goddamn it.

“So if, hypothetically speaking,” Sana said, “you joined a set without having rehearsed any of the music beforehand, would you be able to figure out a drum part?”

“Okay, hold on,” said Arkady, before Violet could respond. “Don’t you think IGR Corp is going to notice that one of their employees has just… joined the band?”

“We’ll swear up and down that it isn’t her,” Jeeter said. “And even if someone figures it out, what are they gonna do about it in front of everyone?”

“But wait, what about you?” Liu asked Jeeter. “Wouldn’t I be putting you out of a role in the band?”

“Nah,” Jeeter said happily. “I brought my keytar!”

“Oh my god,” Arkady groaned. She could tell when she was fighting a losing battle, but it didn’t stop her from making one last, token protest. “This is going to sound really goddamn weird.”

Sana grinned at her. “Well, you wanted to annoy some corporates,” she pointed out. “What better way to do it?”

---

The problem was, the new line-up didn’t sound weird at all.

It sounded good.

Liu, hastily disguised with an old band jacket and a spare pare of Krejjh’s sunglasses, fitted in with their set like she’d been rehearsing with them for weeks – months even. They did a quick sound check, Jeeter looking far too delighted as he amped up his keytar. Sana gave her usual cheerful introduction into the microphone, introducing the band as Renegade, the name they adopted for corporate gigs (Arkady was even more glad of it now, since it would make them harder to track down later). After a lukewarm reception from the assembled employees (none of whom seemed to notice, or care, that the band had grown an extra member), they launched into their first number, a reimagined cover of ‘What Shall We Do with the Drunken Sailor’.

It started off with Sana singing alone, before Krejjh joined in, their voices singing in close harmony, and then Arkady and finally Jeeter, the harmonies becoming increasingly layered as they went. The addition of the keytar made the song sound futuristic, almost the kind of thing you could imagine crews of space explorers singing together as they made their way into the unknown.

Liu picked up the beat easily, and as the song unfolded Arkady suddenly realised she could hear a fifth strand to the harmony, weaving in and out of the other voices, soft but distinctive: Liu was singing.

They moved on from the conventional crowd-pleasing openers to a more eclectic mix of songs, including some punk and anarchist numbers. Each time, Arkady was sure that the choice was going to throw Liu off, but she adapted smoothly to each one, altering her style to fit the vibe of the song. In one of the louder, heavier songs she even threw in an impromptu drum solo that had Krejjh whooping at the keyboard and Sana laughing as she riffed on her guitar.

Sana threw Arkady a look as the song ended, and there was a light in her eyes that Arkady knew far, far too well. It was the same light that Arkady had seen when Sana tracked her down at her latest deadbeat job and persuaded her to quit and start playing music with her; the same light that she’d had when they met Brian and Krejjh a year later and Sana had decided to turn their duo into a band.

Sana wanted Liu to join Rumor. And Arkady couldn’t even think of a good argument against it, apart from the fact that they barely knew anything about the woman other than that she could play the drums. And that she was a corporate, which Arkady thought was important not to lose sight of, even if Liu wasn’t on the greatest terms with her employer any more.

Speaking of which. Arkady was on high alert throughout the whole set, constantly scanning the crowd for signs of trouble, anyone who might be looking too closely at Liu or showed signs of moving towards the elevator. As they’d been setting up, Liu had told them that Seiders was middle management: someone who outranked her, but not someone who held a position of particular influence within the company or had the ear of the CEO. Someone who had ambitions above their station. It didn’t mean no-one would notice them missing, of course; but it meant that they might be someone who, for instance, would go after a rogue employee without notifying their superior, hoping to reap all of the credit.

The band moved into their final number, ‘Landers Never Stand Down’ – one of Sana and Arkady’s early compositions, whose lyrics Sana had written as a tribute to The Landing, and her and Arkady’s shared history. Normally, Arkady would object to wasting it on a corporate audience, but tonight, it felt like the right kind of ‘fuck you’.

“Landers never stand down,

Landers never bow,

Landers never stand down,

We don’t know how…”

They wound up the song in their usual fashion, repeating the chorus and getting fiercer and more defiant with each repetition, before ending in a final blaze of guitar chords.

“Thank you, everyone, you’ve been a wonder to perform for!” Sana said into the microphone as the chords faded away. She said the same thing at the end of every gig, but it had never felt more like a colossal understatement. “We’ve been Renegade, and we hope you have a great night!”

There was a small scattering of applause. Sana beamed out into the audience again, and then turned away from the microphone, sliding the power to ‘off’. “Well, that was-”

“Attention, all IGR Corp employees,” came a voice over the loudspeaker system. Sana froze, and Liu, who’d been leaning over to say something to Krejjh, paled visibly. “Please stay where you are. We will be carrying out a routine attendance check. Please do not exit the building.”

“Attendance check?” Arkady repeated.

“It’s a standard employee procedure,” Liu explained. “To make sure everyone’s… accounted for at corporate functions. Supposedly they’re optional, but it looks really bad if you’re not there and you don’t have a reason.”

“Do we think there’s a chance this is linked to…” Sana gestured towards the elevator. Liu shrugged helplessly.

“It could be, but even if it’s not, they’re gonna discover that Seiders is missing pretty quickly. And that I’m… unaccounted for.”

“Don’t worry,” said Jeeter, reassuringly. “We’ll figure out a way to get you out before that happens.”

“Dashing escapes are our speciality!” Krejjh contributed. This was true; the band hadn’t always played at the most above-the-board venues, and there’d been more than a few times they’d needed to get the hell out of Dodge before things got ugly. Well, uglier.

Sana nodded. “For now, just keep packing down, like nothing’s wrong,” she said.

As Krejjh packed down their keyboard and Jeeter helped Liu to disassemble the drumkit, Arkady said to Sana, “I’ll go with Liu, and we can sneak out a back entrance-”

Sana shook her head. “It’ll be more suspicious if we’re not seen leaving as a group.”

“We’ll just say we’re going to the bathroom,” Arkady said. “We’re allowed to do that, aren’t we?”

Sana started to reply, but then stopped, squinting at something on the other side of the room. Arkady tried to follow her gaze, but couldn’t see what she was looking at. “What is it?”

“I thought I saw…” Sana shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Let’s try the front way first, and if they won’t let us leave, we’ll get creative.”

Unsurprisingly, when they carried the first load of equipment over to the rec room entrance, two stoic-looking IGR employees blocked their path, bouncer-style. Arkady eyed one of them, pretty sure she could take her in a one-to-one fight.

“Sorry, we can’t let you leave while an attendance check is ongoing,” said the employee, with a bland detachment. “Company policy.”

“It should only take about an hour,” the other added. “You can enjoy the free refreshments while you wait.”

An hour? Even if they hadn’t had a very pressing reason to get the hell out of there, Arkady would have been looking for the nearest fire escape to break out of. They were just supposed to cool their heels at IGR headquarters for an hour?

“Can we not at least load our equipment into the van in the meantime?” Sana asked reasonably. “This is a very heavy amplifier…” She made a show of struggling with the amp she’d been lifting with ease a few seconds ago, and Arkady suppressed a snort.

One of the corporates had opened their mouth, looking like they were about to object, when a friendly voice spoke from behind them. “Is there a problem here?”

They all turned to look at the person who’d spoken, and Arkady carefully masked her surprise: the tall, dark-skinned man dressed in an expensive-looking suit jacket, T-shirt and jeans combination was none other than Red Gregor, a close friend of Campbell’s. They’d met him once or twice, but what was he doing here?

“Who are you?” asked Corporate One, audibly unimpressed.

“Theodore Gregor; I’m the band’s executive producer,” Gregor introduced himself smoothly, handing Corporate Two a business card. Their eyes widened at whatever was written on it. “My clients have another engagement to get to tonight, so you can understand why it’s very important they be allowed to leave promptly. Additionally, their contract stipulates that they’re only obliged to perform for your company until-” he made a show of checking a gold watch, “-nine-thirty P.M., after which time we’ll need to bill you for every additional half-hour. Will your supervisors be signing off on the additional expenses?”

Corporates One and Two were visibly thrown by the torrent of information. Krejjh made a noise that was hastily stifled, while Arkady did her best to look bored and important.

“I… no, let me just contact my superior to get you the all-clear,” said Corporate One, reluctantly. “Johnson will help you to load your equipment into your…” She eyed the band’s battered van, visibly out of place in the parking lot full of sleek cars. “…vehicle.”

“Great!” Sana said brightly, handing the amplifier to Corporate Two, who took it and staggered slightly. As Corporate One spoke into a walkie-talkie, Sana and Red Gregor strode quickly ahead, the rest of the band trailing behind. Arkady lengthened her steps to catch up with them so that she could hear their quiet exchange.

“…doing here? Did Campbell send you?” Sana was asking Red Gregor.

“In a manner of speaking,” Red Gregor said. “He talks about you so much, I wanted to come and hear what all the fuss was about. Love the new line-up – you guys sound completely different to when I last heard you play.”

“It’s kind of a new thing,” Sana admitted. “New as of… today. I can fill you in, it’s just a long story.”

“I can’t wait to hear it,” Red Gregor said, and Arkady remembered that she’d liked him, the couple of times that they’d met. She could see why he and Campbell were good friends. “But let’s focus on getting you out of here. I’m guessing you need an exit?”

“And fast,” Sana agreed.

“Well, fast’s your speciality,” Red Gregor said with a grin. Sana smiled back at him, and Arkady wondered if Red was basing this off stories from Campbell, or if he and Sana knew each other better than Arkady had realised. It was a strange thought to have in the middle of everything.

Sana unlocked the van and slid open the back door. While Krejjh, Jeeter and Liu loaded their items into the trunk, overseen by Corporate Two, Red Gregor pretended to help Arkady and Sana with their instruments.

“So what now?” Arkady asked Sana. “I think I can probably take Johnson.”

“Arkady, you’ve already been in one fight today,” Sana said, disapproving.

“What’s your point?”

“I have a more bloodless suggestion,” Red Gregor said. “You’ve got a few pieces of equipment left in the venue, right? I’ll go back inside with Johnson to ‘collect’ them, say we’re going to check their supervisor has given you the go-ahead, and you guys make a break for it. I’ll bring the equipment in my car and meet you at the dive bar, half a mile down the road.”

“Are you sure you’ll be able to get away? What happens when they realise we’re gone?” Sana asked.

“I’ll come up with something,” Red Gregor assured her. “Just focus on getting yourselves out of here.”

He walked over to Johnson, who was slightly bemusedly watching Jeeter and Liu (who were clearly stalling for time) rearrange pieces of the drumkit in the trunk, and took him by the arm, steering him back towards the building and talking rapidly all the while.

“As soon as they’re out of sight, everyone needs to get in the van quickly,” Sana instructed. “And hang onto something. Okay? Now!”

Krejjh slammed the trunk of the van shut and everyone piled into the back without a word of protest. Arkady jumped into the front as Sana slid into the driver’s seat, reversing out of the parking space like a shot and executing an alarming hairpin turn to get them onto the road. Liu cried out in alarm, not used to Sana’s driving, and Arkady hung grimly onto the handle on the inside of her door.

“Everyone okay back there?” Sana asked, peering into the rearview mirror.

Arkady looked back to see Jeeter and Krejjh scrambling to put on their seatbelts, each of them having thrown an arm over Liu to keep her in place. “Oops, sorry, I forgot we don’t have a seatbelt for the middle!” Sana said cheerfully as they thudded over a speedbump. Liu closed her eyes. “There’s normally only four of us.”

“It’s not far to where we’re going, right, Captain?” asked Jeeter.

“Just a half mile down the road,” said Sana. “Red Gregor’s going to meet us there with the rest of the equipment, as soon as he can get away.”

“What was he doing at the gig? Did Campbell tell him where we were?”

“I think so. He said that he wanted to come and hear us play,” Arkady said, watching buildings blur past on either side of them. “I guess it was lucky he did.”

“We would’ve figured something out,” Krejjh said confidently.

“Uh, who’s Campbell?” Liu asked, cautiously opening her eyes again.

“He’s our… manager? Kinda?” Krejjh replied. “He doesn’t tell us what to do or anything, but he has a lot of contacts, so he gets us most of our gigs.”

“Contacts in the music industry? Or contacts in like… events venues, bars and clubs?”

“Yes,” Krejjh said helpfully.

“He just has a lot of contacts,” Jeeter said with a smile. Arkady smirked at Liu’s look of consternation.

“Tonight’s gig did not come through Campbell,” said Sana, spotting the dive bar Red Gregor had specified and indicating to turn off the road. “We got it through an agency, Fowleys. I guess that’ll teach us not to go outside Campbell’s network.”

“Hey, it worked out!” Krejjh said. “We got a new drummer out of the deal.”

“Well, for tonight, at least,” Sana said, now reversing into a parking space. “I gotta say, Violet, the way you fitted in with our sound? That was amazing. Our set sounded better than I could’ve imagined.”

Liu blushed. “They were great songs,” she demurred, as the van came to a stop.

“Too bad it was wasted on IGR Corp,” Arkady remarked, undoing her seat belt as they all climbed out of the van.

They got a table in the corner of the dive bar, which was pretty full and made it easy to blend in. As Sana went to get them all drinks, Krejjh and Jeeter started up some kind of nonsensical word game. Arkady and Liu glanced at each other occasionally, but otherwise sat in awkward silence.

Finally, Arkady asked something that had been on her mind since she intervened in the confrontation between Liu and Seiders, though it had taken a back seat to more pressing concerns. “What was it you were trying to get from that computer, anyway?”

“Sorry?” Liu asked, looking away from Krejjh and Jeeter, where she’d been listening in on the game with a slightly baffled expression.

“In the CEO’s office,” Arkady clarified. “I saw you take a flash drive out of the computer. What were you trying to get?”

“Oh,” Liu said, drawing out the little drive from inside her blouse. “Yeah, I was… trying to copy some files onto it. I’m not sure how much I got, though – I had to pull it out before the transfer was complete, and I think they’re encrypted.”

“What kind of files are they?” Arkady asked, thinking that she could probably break the encryption in an afternoon. Maybe less.

Liu hesitated, and Arkady narrowed her eyes. “You’re not still trying to protect your company, are you? In case you don’t remember-”

“No, no,” Liu said quickly. “I just – I’m not sure if it would be safe to tell you. Safe for you,” she added. “Right now, you have plausible deniability if anyone questions you. You genuinely don’t know what’s on this flash drive. So maybe it would be better to keep it that way.”

Arkady was a little bit pacified by that, but still – “Considering I’ve already aided and abetted you, I think that ship has sailed,” she pointed out. “No-one is going to believe I did it without having any idea what you were up to. Which I’m fine with,” she added, as a guilt-stricken look crossed Liu’s face. “I made a choice to help you, and so did the others. But I may as well know what the stakes are.”

“Yeah, that’s… fair,” admitted Liu. Next to her, Krejjh was doing a fairly poor job of pretending not to listen in. “They’re blueprints. My company – the company – has been developing… do you know what IGR Corp does? What kind of a company it is?”

“Some kind of a tech company?” Arkady said. She vaguely remembered Sana saying something about that when they got the gig. She hadn’t really been paying attention to the details.

Liu nodded. “Smart technology – specifically, smart home technology. We produce – I mean, they produce things like smart security systems, smart doorbells, systems that can detect when someone has a medical emergency. Systems that are designed to help keep people safe.”

Arkady had to work to keep from grimacing. She wasn’t sure that being monitored by a computer 24/7 fitted everyone’s definition of ‘safety’, but maybe Liu had never had cause to doubt that the people with power had her best interests at heart. Lucky her.

“But then,” Liu went on, her voice bitter, “I found out that the latest product we were developing – the one that was supposed to make everyone’s lives so much easier, so much better – is being created as a surveillance device. To eavesdrop on people and send their data back to the company. And I know that a lot of smart devices have audio capabilities, but – this was hardwired in. Impossible to disable. And this weird, secretive new division of the company has been set up to process the data.”

“What are they gonna do with it?” Arkady asked.

“Who knows,” Liu said. “They could be collecting it for the government, but – I think it’s more likely they’re just planning to sell it on to the highest bidder.”

Arkady’s eyes narrowed, and she wished that Sana had brought the drinks already so that she’d have something to down.

“You know,” Liu said, her voice suddenly much softer. “I, uh. I still haven’t thanked you properly for, uh, well-”

“O-kay!” came Sana’s voice, loudly, as she finally arrived at their table carrying a small tray laden with glasses. “Sorry for the delay, guys, there was a heck of a crowd up at the bar. Also, the bartender was really interested in talking to me while he pulled these drinks.” She made a wry expression, her dimple deepening in one cheek. “Cheer up, ‘Kady, I’ve got your favourite-” She slid a pint glass of raspberry ale in front of Arkady.

“Thanks,” Arkady mumbled, not looking at Liu.

Red Gregor arrived not long after, having apparently evaded IGR Corp by pretending that he was going outside to look for the band, and then driving off with the equipment before anyone realised what was happening. Sana passed him a drink from the tray; no-one asked how she already knew his preferred drink order.

“So look,” said Arkady, after they’d done some small talk and toasted to a successful getaway (Sana’s idea, of course). “Not that we didn’t appreciate the save earlier – you had pretty good timing – but why’d you go to all the trouble of coming to an IGR Corp function just to hear us play? How did you even get in?”

“I know a lot of people,” Red Gregor said mysteriously, with a fluid shrug. “As for why I came – you probably don’t know this, but I’ve been getting into the music biz lately.”

Arkady tried to remember what ‘biz’ Red Gregor had been in before, and couldn’t. He was one of those people who seemed to do a bit of everything.

“That’s awesome!” said Krejjh, looking delighted. “Are you going to start a band? Or manage one?”

Red Gregor smiled. “Actually, neither. I’m starting a record label,” he said. “And I want to sign you guys to it.”

Liu choked on her drink; Jeeter said, “Wow, really?” and even Sana looked taken aback. Clearly this hadn’t been the answer she was expecting.

“Us?” she said, as if Gregor could have meant anyone else. “As in…” She gestured around the table, including Liu.

Red Gregor nodded. “Look, your new sound is like nothing I’ve ever heard from a band before,” he said. “Campbell has always spoken highly of you guys, and I really liked your originals the last time I heard you perform. But with this new line-up? I think you could become really big. If that’s something that you want, of course.”

Sana sat back in her chair, looking thoughtful, while Krejjh looked practically ready to vibrate out of theirs with excitement. “That would be a pretty big step for us,” she said. “Not that we wouldn’t love – more exposure, better opportunities-”

“Gigs in legal venues?” put in Jeeter.

“More above-the-board performances,” agreed Sana. “But we’ve only played once with this new line-up. We don’t know for sure if we can replicate that – and I mean, we’d be asking Violet to just drop everything and join us full-time-”

Red Gregor held up his hands. “Like I said, it’s completely up to you,” he said. “I’m not here to pressure you into something you’re not ready for. But don’t underestimate yourselves. I wouldn’t be offering if I didn’t have faith in you guys.”

Sana looked around the table, taking in the mixture of expressions, ranging from Krejjh’s eagerness to Liu’s uncertainty to Arkady’s… Arkady didn’t know what her face was doing. “We’ll have to put it to a vote,” she said, predictably. “And if any of you need more time to think this over-”

“I’m in!” Krejjh said instantly. “We rocked tonight! I want to keep on rocking that hard. And we should totally record an album.”

Jeeter smiled fondly. “I’m on board with anything that will let me keep playing the keytar,” he admitted. “And I thought we sounded pretty awesome, as well.”

Sana looked at Liu. “Violet, you’re the one who this would be the biggest change for,” she said. “The rest of us are already playing in a band full-time. Well, with the odd side gig,” she added, because yeah, they did not yet make enough money from performing to cover the bills. “You barely know us, and you’re not under any obligation to stick around – or to switch careers.”

Liu gave a slightly broken laugh. “Well, I don’t really think I can go back to my old one,” she said. “That option evaporated as soon as one of my colleagues pulled a gun on me. Not… sure I’ve really had time to process that yet.”

Sana nodded. “If it’s too soon-”

“But no amount of processing is going to make my situation any different,” Liu went on. “I could try to get another job in my field, but… IGR Corp is a pretty well-known company. Word’s going to get around that I’m untrustworthy, especially if they put it about that I tried to steal corporate secrets.”

“They can’t do that,” Sana said immediately. “I used to do some union work; whistleblowing is a protected activity, and it’s against the law for them to blacklist you – to make it more difficult for you to obtain future employment.”

Liu smiled slightly. “I don’t think IGR Corp are too concerned with breaking the law,” she pointed out. “I appreciate it, but… this isn’t my first experience with a hostile work environment.”

Okay, so maybe Arkady should take back her earlier thought about Liu never having had cause to distrust the people in power.

“Besides, I haven’t even blown the whistle on them yet – I’m not sure if the information I have is worth anything,” Liu said, a little grimly. “And anyway… I think it’s time for a clean slate. So, if you’ll have me… I’m in.”

Which just left Arkady. She could see how pleased Sana was that Liu was willing to join the band full-time, even though she was trying to hide it. Krejjh and Jeeter, too, were excited – and not just at the prospect of getting better gigs and earning more money (though that was a very appealing prospect).

The fact was, Red Gregor was right – they’d sounded like a completely new band during their performance. Arkady had always liked their stuff (of course she did; she’d even co-written some of it) but the new sound gave it a flair she hadn’t even realised it had been missing. As much as she couldn’t help thinking of the dozens of ways this could go wrong, she wanted them to keep sounding like that. She wanted to see what else they could do.

“‘Kady?” asked Sana.

Arkady took a deep breath. “Sure. Let’s do this.”

[tea-at-221]

The TJLC Debacle: 3 years out from S4 and counting; the copyright mini-theory; so much salt I’m bloated; but in the end, there is peace (I love you Johnlockers)

Ugh, don't even talk to me about Mary.

Don't even talk to me about the way Mofftiss have said they're sick of responding to fans on the subject of Johnlock. Of how they've said they're "not telling anyone else what to think or write about them" (as if they could stop us; as if they even own Sherlock themselves. Do keep reading, because this point becomes much more relevant and in-jokey later on). Don't even mention how they've bitched and whined incessantly because--god forbid--fans got *really really* into their show and emotionally invested.

They're so eager to discount all the beautiful little moments they wrote as accidents. And Arwel, who planted all those props, continually demonstrates that he's on their side (a not-very in-depth-analysis of his Instagram account and the way he interacted with fans towards the beginning of the pandemic showed as much, but I think maybe he’s grown a bit wiser and quieter since at least in terms of Johnlock and all things elephant-related. I don’t know for sure because I stopped looking.)

Anyway--they'd actually prefer for us to celebrate our own intelligence, is I suppose a charitable way of looking at it: our ability to make connections between things in the show; our metas on symbolism; our insightful fanfic; etc., and denounce them as the bad writers that they ultimately are.

More under the cut.

(This post may be of interest to you especially if you came to the fandom a bit later: multiple links to things of relevance/quotes/explanations appear both within and at the end of this entry.)

Because what makes a writer good?

Well, an ability to make people feel an emotional connection to their work, for one. I know this is just my own perspective, but if not for Johnlock, all my emotion about the show would evaporate. There wouldn't be much else there. Other people might get something, but I wouldn’t. Is some of the writing witty and entertaining regardless of any inferred/implied Johnlock? Yeah but, eh, a lot of shows have some good writing and I just don’t give a damn about them.

What makes a writer good?

Not making promises to the reader/viewer that they'll never keep. Plot holes, leading dialogue ("There’s stuff you wanted to say...but didn’t say it.” “Yeah”) never followed through on, puns that are apparently, I suppose, unintentional (e.g. "'Previous' commander?" "I meant 'ex'").

Uh, not writing continual gay jokes that aren't actually pointing toward the inference that people are making them because there's actually something going on there under the surface. (How about just don't make those jokes ever.)

Not being, apparently, oblivious (? questionable) to the queerbaiting they're engaging in *as they’re writing it.*

Acting like their LGBT audience is in the wrong/the bad guy, instead of choosing to remain respectful in the face of dissent. Instead it's just, "we never wrote it that way" / "We never played it that way."

A lot of those other mildly witty shows don’t actually blatantly drag their most passionate fans face-down through the mud the writers themselves created. Imagine that.

I'm not even a fan of Martin Freeman anymore, for the way he handled the whole thing (getting angry, the comments he made about how the fans made Sherlock “not fun anymore”...apparently Martin’s packing up his crayons and going home?)...no offense to anyone who is still a fan of his. I don’t make it a habit to drag him. I do to some degree understand his frustration with having the whole situation taken out on him--he’s just an actor in the show--but I simply wish he’d remained as cool and professional about it as Benedict Cumberbatch instead of pointing at the fans. You’re pointing in the wrong direction, mate.

What also irks me at the end of the day is this: the subsection of people who legitimately responded badly to the TJLC/S4 debacle and went above and beyond to harass the writers and actors/actresses on social media are *few and far between*, but we've been lumped in with them by what feels like...everyone, Martin included. TJLCers/Johnlockers (not the same group, but often treated as such) have been made to look like a bunch of rambunctious, immature, demanding children time and time and again in the wake of S4.

They'd rather, what, suggest John was so in love with Mary? THAT was the relationship they wanted to uphold in that show as so significant and...what, a demonstration of how honorable it is to respect your heterosexual relationship despite, you know...ANYTHING?

Yeah sorry, I don’t believe in that. John’s text-based affair, whether a disappointment for some as to his supposed character, was a very human reaction and I kinda sorta feel like I would have reacted MUCH more strongly than that had I been John. But nope. He stayed with Mary and was *ashamed* of his wandering eye. Ashamed that maybe he wanted to be admired by someone. I can’t think of a scene, off the top of my head, where Mary ever interacted with John without belittling him in some way--if not with words, then with consistently patronizing glances.

The message here is that heterosexuality is not just acceptable, but VALUABLE, however it manifests--but god forbid anyone see a queer subtext. (Why are lgbt+ writers some of the very WORST offenders where this is concerned? And they defend it! Is this childhood nostalgia/Stockholm Syndrome of the very fondest variety or what? Gay angst is all they got if they got anything at all, so it’s still good enough as far as “representation” goes?)

They really want to tell the story of John as so emotionally/mentally fucked up that he surrounds himself with unstable people time and again. They never give any reason *why* he might do that (which they could have done even soooo subtly), or delve into his past--just, apparently it's okay to assume that Sherlock's comment about "she's like that because you chose her" is exactly that.

No. Sherlock and Mary are NOT the same. Not...*remotely*!

Mary is underhanded and evil. She lies. She manipulates. She schemes. Her “love” is based on selfishness, and her assumption that John is a simpleton and hers to mold. She's in it for herself.

Sherlock hides. He prevaricates. He feels. He loves John. He does fucked up things in the name of love, but always for the benefit of those he loves. When he screws up, which he obviously does, it’s painful to us as the audience because we see that it is painful for him when he recognizes and regrets it.

I have never seen Mary regret anything. Those crocodile tears at Christmas? More manipulation. Inconsistent with anything else we were shown about her as a character.

To even think for a SECOND that people could ship Mary and John and mentally condemn John for cheating on Mary AFTER SHE SHOT HIS BEST FRIEND...as if marriage is the be-all-end-all free pass in which every sin must be forgiven until the end of time...as if John broke any covenant with his wife beyond those she broke from the very moment she walked into his life *with an entire fake past.* Is just. Well. It's asking us to accept gaslighting as healthy, loving, normal, *preferable* behavior, so...given the source that message is coming from, it's all a bit meta.

THAT. Is insanity. Maybe Mofftiss are the sociopaths.

How these men could write characters they themselves understand so little (or tell us they understand so little because their emotional maturity has yet to surpass that of the average three-year-old’s), I will never know. I can only imagine that they have absorbed, by osmosis over their lives, real and nuanced human behavior...then churned it back out again in their writing unaware, a bit like psychopaths who teach themselves what "normal" people do so that they can pass as psychologically sound in regular society.

Remember, we *are* talking about men who do these sorts of things:

Moffat says that Sherlock is celibate and that people who claim he's misogynistic when he does things like make Irene Adler imply she's attracted to the detective (even though she's a lesbian) are, ironically, "deeply offensive" (despite lines like "look at us both" in Battersea. We aren't your therapists, Moffat--we don't care what you meant, we care what you said, and what you *said* was clear. *Implying* it does not let you off the hook).

Gatiss has proclaimed that "I find flirting with the homoeroticism in Sherlock much more interesting" than the idea of ever making a show addressing LGBT issues. (That link is to a reddit forum, and I can't find the original interview anymore, but I assure you I had seen the actual article myself ages back and can't find it online again now along with some of the Martin quotes I wanted to link to. And nevermind what Gatiss has done with LGBT shows/issues since--my focus here is on what he has said, versus what he and Moffat have since claimed regarding their queerbaiting.)

Here’s a transcript of this screenshot:

"...many people come up and say they didn't realise." Despite this lack of public awareness, being part of the gay community is clearly important to Gatiss: "The older I get the more I want to give something back. I mean, I keep meaning to do something." When asked if he'd be interested in making a series about gay issues his response was enlightening:

"No, I don't think I'd make a kind of gay programme. It's much more interesting when it's not about a single issue. And equally, I find flirting with the homoeroticism in Sherlock much more interesting. Of course this reflects the grand picture of everyone's strange make-up; there are good gay people and bad gay people. I wouldn't like to make an issue film around the culture of being gay."

Instead Gatiss' interest seems to lie in making a drama where sexuality is, if not mundane, part of the wider framework: "I'd quite like to do something about a quite happy, ordinary gay person who's just incidentally gay. For example, a three-part thriller for ITV where the lead character just happens to be gay; when they finally go home, say 45 minutes in, and they had a same sex partner. That to me would be genuinely progressive. It wouldn't be a three-part gay thriller for ITV. It would be that this character just happened to be gay."

--End article quote.

And instead, who is canonically gay in the series? Well, Irene Adler. The innkeepers at the Cross Keys. And perhaps most notably, the *villains*, because that's a helpful trope: Moriarty and Eurus are, in S4, both implied to be at least bisexual.

Any character should be able to be any sexuality, this is true. But can we have some main characters, the good guys, give some good representation? Can't we start making that the standard, rather than the villains and the background characters? Because so far, that is the exception and not the rule.

Writers need to be aware of the damage they are perpetuating. We are not quite in a world yet where any character should be able to be any sexuality but isn't, yet we have no problem with saying the villain is LGBT+ or looks different/functions differently than much of the viewing audience.

"Male friendship is important and valid, not everything has to be gay"--this is a popular point with casual heterosexual viewers (and, to my chagrin, some of my LGBT+ friends) who don't fully grasp what "queerbaiting" is, often even when it's pointed out to them.

The lens of heterosexuality is real. My first time through watching BBC Sherlock, I didn't see the Johnlock at all. I had to look for it and read about it. When I saw it, the lens was lifted for me, and it changed my life and the way I view things forever (and for the best).

But back to my point about how little Mofftiss seem to understand their own story/most ardent fans, and then on to my other theory: in S4 it must be that they dropped their “psychopaths emulating empathy” act and indulged in their own "insane wish fulfillment" by doing away with all of the meaning, continuity, and sense. Right?

So, here’s the alternate theory. One which is not, please remember, in their defense.

Remember that S4 is what Mofftiss are *happy* to have us believe is what they'd do with these characters, given the chance to do whatever they wanted. I repeat, in Moffat’s own words: “Insane wish fulfillment.”

Okay I get it, this pasta has been over-salted.

Without further delay: MY COPYRIGHT RESEARCH THEORY THAT EVEN I DON'T PUT MUCH STOCK IN AND WHICH DOESN’T MAKE UP FOR THEIR CRUELTY EVEN IF TRUE

Part of me also raises an eyebrow at S4 as perhaps an example of the effect of the Conan Doyle estate on any modern production in the US. While it’s true that all of Sherlock is part of public domain in the UK and has been for quite a long time, Gatiss and Moffat still talk about it being partially under copyright. Specifically, the last 10 stories. I’m supposing that this means that because Sherlock airs internationally, or due to whatever contract the BBC has with the Doyle estate, they are still limited by the copyright as to what they can “publish”.

The Doyle estate is known for being a pain in the ass when it comes to abiding by copyright law as everyone else knows and practices it. They’ve tried to argue, for example (in 2013 and, much more recently, with the advent of Enola Holmes), that because Holmes and Watson were not fully developed as their final selves until the conclusion of all 10 stories still under copyright, then perhaps the characters themselves should still be protected, basically, in full.

It’s true that certain elements of the remaining stories are still under copyright here in the US (Watson had more than one wife--uh huh, we have that to look forward to, Johnlockers; the Garridebs moment is still under copyright--yeah, I’m getting to that too; and Sherlock didn’t care much for dogs til later so that’s not allowed either, fuck off Redbeard), but the estate’s problem in 2013 seemed to be based around a fear that *gasp* some day--if not right now!--anyone could write a Sherlock Holmes story in any way they pleased, changing the characters however they wished to and giving those characters “multiple personalities.”

See the following excerpt from the Estate’s case:

“...at any given point in their fictional lives, the two men's characters depend on the Ten Stories. It is impossible to split the characters into public domain versions and complete versions.”

(Click for full transcript.)

Obviously, by this point, that’s been done in multiple iterations. So I dunno. Their argument was *more* than muddy to begin with--they just grasp at straws to stay in control, it seems.

But okay. Backing up: wasn’t there sort-of a Garridebs moment in S4?!?? you cry. Yep. But imagine this: the Conan Doyle estate taking Mofftiss to court to argue that they depicted the Garridebs moment--a moment still under copyright--in The Final Problem.

Did they, though? Did they really?

The fandom cried out about the ridiculousness--the utter disappointment--of that moment when it was shown. It was not what we would have expected/wanted. We didn’t see John injured, Sherlock reacting with tender outrage to the good doctor’s attacker.

Instead we saw some ludicrous BS that was as bad as the clown with the sword-gun-umbrella. More of that.

I think Martin probably found that it was easy to produce real tears when he thought about how fucking terrible the S4 scripts were.

Ahem. Yet, this all seems very Mofftiss-flavored in terms of humor.

I can all-too-easily imagine them saying, “HA. We’re going to show some of these supposedly copyrighted things--and if they take us to court, they’ll be laughed out of the room.” Could that explain some of the overall S4 fuckery?

Sherlock wasn’t supposed to like dogs til later stories, as previously mentioned-- is that why Redbeard pulled a “Cinderella’s carriage” and transformed into a pumpkin (Victor Trevor)? Hmm. Sigh.

It...doesn’t actually appear that the estate has any qualms about taking laughable stuff to court, I mean...*shrug.* They have the money to do it, and money is the name of the game, because you’ve got to pay for rights (cha-ching sounds).

Yep, it does seem that the estate is open to the copyrighted materials being made reality, but who knows for what price or with what caveats. The BBC isn’t, so far as I’ve ever heard, known for throwing money around. Early Doctor Who would be so much less entertaining if they’d had any sort of budget. (And in fact, more of the older episodes would exist, but apparently the BBC--in part to cut costs--reused some of their tapes.)

My bottom-line bitter is this: Mofftiss do like to amuse themselves. To please themselves and no one else, as they’ve shown time and again. Sure, they could do whatever they wanted with S4...and they did...but they were also cruel about it, and that’s what I’ll never forgive them--OR the BBC--for.

A lot of fans gave up after series 4. I was very nearly one of them. I was angry, like just about every other Johnlocker and/or TJLCer, but I was really truly heartbroken. I couldn’t look at fanfiction. My days were full of bitterness and I keenly felt the lack of the fandom outlet that had become so essential to my mental well-being. I didn't know how to overcome the disparity between TJLC and what the show actually was. I didn't know how to separate the things I loved so much from the shitty writers and the way the BBC handled things with their whole response letter (that atrocious, childish blanket response they sent to everyone who complained about S4, not just the Johnlockers/TJLCers. Related to your complaint or not, if you filed one post-S4, this was the response you got). I still boycott BBC shows/merchandise, just by the way.

I tried to link to the blanket response letter but the link didn’t want to work (it’s an old reddit post; I had difficulty finding a copy of the letter elsewhere though at one point it wasn’t so hard...Google is weird these days y’all...tell me it’s not just me) so here’s a screenshot:

Transcript:

“Thank you for contacting us about “Sherlock”.

The BBC and Hartswood Films have received feedback from some viewers who were disappointed there was not a romantic resolution to the relationship between Sherlcok and John in the finale of the latest season of “Sherlock”.

We are aware that the majority of this feedback uses the same text posted on websites and circulated on social media.

Through four series and thirteen episodes, Sherlock and John have never shown any romantic or sexual interest in each other. Furthermore, whenever the creators of “Sherlock” have been asked by fans if the relationship might develop in that direction, they have always made it clear that it would not.

Sherlock’s writers, cast and producers have long been firm and vocal supporters of LGBT rights.

The BBC does not accept the allegations leveled at “Sherlock” or its writers, and we wholeheartedly support the creative freedom of the writers to develop the story as they see fit.

We will of course register your disappointment.

Thank you for contacting us.

Kind Regards,

BBC Complaints Team

So how about that? *Did* they “register our disappointment”? We can actually check that. The BBC’s website has a monthly summary of complaints received. So what did they receive in January 2017, the month S4 aired?

Huh, what do you know. Sounds like that blanket response was exactly the “fuck you” it came across as.

But the show--the FANDOM--had filled a need in my life, and so I had to own that and make it mine, or just...let something in me die: something that felt like an actual vital organ. I had to decide that these characters mean something to me beyond what anyone else tells me they should. I had to accept my own perceptions as truth, as I do with everything else in my life. I had to overcome the idea of canon as law (BBC Sherlock isn't canon anyway; ACD is canon. BBC Sherlock is, in the end, badly written fanfiction--or--worse?--decent pre-slash fanfiction distorted by consistent lies and the hazing of the LGBT audience, topped with the dumpster fire of S4′s incoherent nonsense).

I had to take the good and throw away the bad, just like anyone else who chose to stay. The good bits of the show...dialogue, yes. Plot points, yes. These awful writers did write some good stuff sometimes.

They just broke all the unspoken rules of what not to do to your audience. And then did and said everything they could not to apologize, and to justify their own failings. Which, in the years since I began shipping queer ships beyond any others, I have unfortunately experienced more than once.

So, my vulnerability has been yeeted into the vacuum of broke-my-trustdom: no one can tell me what things should mean to me. I will decide.

I decide that all of the FUCKING AMAZING writing in the Sherlock fandom is a staple in my life that makes it worth living. And that that's okay. And takes precedence over anything the writers or anyone else associated with the show could ever say or do.

Johnlock can not be taken away. It doesn't belong to them. It never did, even if they brought us to it. It belongs to us. To the group of amazingly creative, brainy, empathetic, resourceful, vibrant, resilient people who make up this fandom.

So thank YOU, all of YOU, for giving me Sherlock, Johnlock, and TJLC.

I am SO SAD for those who never found a way to make peace with this fandom again. Let me just say that I understand that inability entirely.

I am fortunate that I found the ability in myself to cling to the joy (something it has taken my whole life to be able to do). I hope others will who haven’t yet but wish they could.

Let Mofftiss and whoever sides with them stay angry and bitter and vicious, always looking over their shoulders for anyone who dares to whisper about subtext.

I’m proud to be part of what they’re whispering so angrily about.

Thanks for sticking it out if you made it this far. I know this was very self-indulgent and rambly.

Articles of interest:

A Study in Queerbaiting (Or How Sherlock Got it All Wrong) by Marty Greyson

“We never played it like that.” - Martin on Johnlock

Henry Cavill on the Enola Holmes lawsuit

More on that--and by the way Sherlock isn’t allowed to like dogs

The way Sherlock creators told fans Sherlock & John aren’t gay is so rude

Especially for those new to the fandom who may not know the distinction between TJLC and Johnlockers and want to know more about TJLC's evolution/what it is/meta through the years

Moffat's view on asexuality, offensive to me in particular *as* an asexual person (same article where he claims he isn't misogynistic): "If he was asexual, there would be no tension in that, no fun in that – it's someone who abstains who's interesting."

Yet he says Sherlock isn't gay or straight and that he's trying to keep his brain pure which is a "very Victorian attitude"

(Nice historical research there, Moff--actually the Victorians were sex-positive).

Sherlock fans were robbed of the gay ending they deserved

Benedict Cumberbatch has lashed out at his Sherlock co-star Martin Freeman over his negative attitude towards fans

BBC complaints January 2017

Martin Freeman: 'Sherlock is gayest story ever'

From 2016: UNPOPULAR OPINION: "Sherlock" Isn't Sexist or Queerbaiting; It's Actually Trying to Stage a Revolution

Queer-baiting on the BBC's Sherlock: Addressing the Invalidation of Queer Identities through Online Fan Fiction Communities by Cassidy Sheehan