#Ad Spy Techniques

[bestwayadvertisement]

Are you looking for infiltrating profit or spy on native ads? In this infographic, you will get to know ad spy techniques for affiliate marketers. 

[sunshineandspencer]

Jogging

A/N: I’ve discovered that I, actually, despise angst. I hate reading it and I hate writing it, unless specifically asked for, my brain thinks only happy thoughts. On an unrelated note, I’m also a very emotional person and perhaps angst sets off my severe second-hand embarrassment and I’ve never finished an angst fic. So, from that unrelated note, have a finished fluffy fic :) 

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader.

Summary: Aaron is incredibly attractive at the best of times, but put him in sports gear and it’s like flies to honey. Which is an excellent cultivator of jealousy for his jogging partner, until she overhears him talking to another woman.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kind of established relationship (you’ll see)

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

Going for a morning run with her more-than-a-friend-but-not-quite-labelled man, was fun. Aaron taught her some proper techniques, and she got a kiss whenever they completed a lap.

There is an issue, unfortunately, and it’s one she’s desperately trying not to blow out of proportion.

Aaron is attractive, devastatingly so, and because he occasionally runs ahead to finish a lap and wait for her to arrive so that he can greet her with a kiss, people don’t always know that they’re out together. Added with him in those damn workout clothes - that she would burn if she weren’t mentally stable - it’s no surprise to her anymore to see women jogging up to him.

They’re almost always gone by the time she makes it over to Aaron, who kisses her and immediately moves on to their next lap. She tries hard not to let the clawing jealousy show.

Due to JAck, and both of them agreeing not to move too quickly so that they don’t confuse him, they’d just decided on not labelling anything yet. So she isn’t really anything official to him, and can’t do all the things her jealous mind screams at her to do.

Like today, for example, Aaron had pressed a kiss to her cheek and sped up to get to the end of their lap. 

The minute he’s not beside another woman, someone else runs up to him.

She hears the fading introduction of “hi, I’m Beth, I see you around here pretty often” and her stomach clenches.

Once again, her pretty, not-boyfriend is getting hit on by a woman who can actually keep his pace. She hates it, and hates the burning hole in her chest even more.

Deciding, this time, she would actually speed up and join the conversation. Which will ultimately be worth the burst lungs and exertion-flushed face. Until she turns the corner and sees them still talking, any semblance of confidence withers.

When she hears her name on his lips, however, she dives behind the nearest tree. Realising he just gestured to where she should be coming from, and hoping neither of them had seen her practically rush for cover to avoid being seen. Pressing her back to the bark of the tree and listening closely to the conversation.

“-out with my girlfriend, actually, we run together.”

If she weren’t hiding behind a tree, from a random woman and the man that just called her his girlfriend, she’d be doing a happy dance by now. Choosing to press her hands to her chest as the burning hole closed up, victoriously grinning as ‘Beth’ jogged on feeling pretty dejected.

Once sure that Beth was gone, she turned to place her hands on the tree, bracing herself to look around it to try and spot Aaron, that daft smile still on her face. But he wasn’t there, and that observation came with a pair of hands landing on her hips and making her jump and spin around. Meeting Aaron’s smug grin as he gently pinned her to the tree by her hips.

“Are you spying on me now?”

Refusing to meet his gaze, she started looking all around them - as if searching for someone, and that only made his stupid grin wider.

“Should be careful Hotchner, wouldn’t want that girlfriend you mentioned to catch you pinning a girl to a tree.”

“Oh?” Knowing she’d heard, he now has no plans to try and keep up the facade that he hasn’t wanted her, officially, for weeks now. “And do you think she’d be upset if I kissed the woman I pinned to a tree?”

Giving a dramatic gasp, she used it to breathe in fully to answer, realising that her lungs aren’t really cooperating with her right now. And he used that as his chance to lean down to kiss her, loving the sparky feeling he gets from her every time. Siling against her lips as she melted against him.

Pulling back with a soft nip to her lips that had her chasing after him. Before realising what she was doing and resting back against the tree, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of getting what he wanted.

“I think she’d definitely hate the thought of you doing that to anyone else.”

“Ah, so she gets jealous?”

As if she were caught out, her eyes darted away from his as she pouted - from a profiling perspective, she really does have cute tells when she’s been caught - tugging at the hem of his shirt.

“She pleads the fifth.”

Thankfully, as she knows he actually loves any jokes that relate to his time as a lawyer, he laughs, leaning down to kiss her again, hand trailing away from her hip to lace their fingers together. Pulling back with a soft hum and another soft peck.

Swiping his thumb across her knuckles as he waited for her to open her eyes again, loving the little flush speckled across her features that obscured her freckles.

“Will she forgive me if I take her to get ice cream?”

“Definitely.”

Tugging her away from the tree, he brushes the flakes of bark from her hair and clothes, spending a little too much time ‘brushing off’ whatever was on her ass, until she smacks his hand away with a laugh. Leading the two of them back towards the car, deliberating what kind of ice cream ‘his girlfriend’ would like the most.

But as they get in, he gives her another smile and laces their hands over the centre console.

“You do know I’m calling you my girlfriend, right?”

Shaking her head, she leant in to kiss him again, pulling away to pat his cheek lightly. 

“Didn’t need to be a profiler for that one, love.”

“Oh, so you’re a profiler now?”

“Best watch it, I’m coming for your job next.

Laughing, he lets go of her hand to start up the car, already knowing exactly which ice cream place they were going to - and exactly what she would order. Not that she’s predictable in the slightest, but she always orders the exact same thing.

“First my heart, now my job? At this rate you’ll have my house by the end of the week.”

“That’s the plan!”

He’s going to marry this goddamn woman.

Want more?! Good!

taglist ( ˘ ³˘)♥ @peliides ║ @peachsodameg ║ @angelinajolie0213 ║ @jiggly-puff-12 ║ @khxna ║ @kennedy2156 ║ @trulycayla ║ @none-of-your-bullshit ║ @alexxavicry ║ @meg-black ║ @princess76179 ║ @chicken-fifi ║ @averyhotchner ║ @punkyghoulz ║ @anotherpassiongirl ║ @princessjax ║ @gghostwriter ║ @pear-1206 ║ @justyourusualash (if your tag is here and not working check out this reblog to see if any of it could hopefully help!!)

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Company that makes millions spying on students will get to sue a whistleblower

Yesterday, the Court of Appeal for British Columbia handed down a jaw-droppingly stupid and terrible decision, rejecting the whistleblower Ian Linkletter’s claim that he was engaged in legitimate criticism when he linked to freely available materials from the ed-tech surveillance company Proctorio:

https://www.bccourts.ca/jdb-txt/ca/23/01/2023BCCA0160.htm

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/20/links-arent-performances/#free-ian-linkletter

It’s been a minute since Linkletter’s case arose, so I’ll give you a little recap here. Proctorio is a massive, wildly profitable ed-tech company that sells a surveillance tool to monitor students while they take high-stakes tests from home. The tool monitors the student’s computer and the student’s face, especially their eye-movements. It also allows instructors and other personnel to watch the students and even take control of their computer. This is called “remote invigilation.”

This is ghastly in just about every way. For starters, Proctorio’s facial monitoring software embeds the usual racist problems with machine-learning stuff, and struggles to recognize Black and brown faces. Black children sitting exams under Proctorio’s gimlet eye have reported that the only way to satisfy Proctorio’s digital phrenology system is to work with multiple high-powered lights shining directly in their faces.

A Proctorio session typically begins with a student being forced to pan a webcam around their test-taking room. During lockdown, this meant that students who shared a room — for example, with a parent who worked night-shifts — would have to invade their family’s privacy, and might be disqualified because they couldn’t afford a place large enough to have private room in which to take their tests.

Proctorio’s tools also punish students for engaging in normal test-taking activity. Do you stare off into space when you’re trying through a problem? Bzzzt. Do you read questions aloud to yourself under your breath when you’re trying to understand their meanings? Bzzzt. Do you have IBS and need to go to the toilet? Bzzzt. The canon of remote invigilation horror stories is filled with accounts of students being forced to defecate themselves, or vomit down their shirts without turning their heads (because looking away is an automatically flagged offense).

The tragedy is that all of this is in service to the pedagogically bankrupt practice of high-stakes testing. Few pedagogists believe that the kind of exam that Proctorio seeks to recreate in students’ homes has real assessment merit. As the old saying goes, “Tests measure your ability to take tests.” But Proctorio doesn’t even measure your ability to take a test — it measures your ability to take a test with three bright lights shining directly on your face. Or while you are covered in your own feces and vomit. While you stare rigidly at a screen. While your tired mother who just worked 16 hours in a covid ward stands outside the door to your apartment.

The lockdown could have been an opportunity to improve educational assessment. There is a rich panoply of techniques that educators can adopt that deliver a far better picture of students’ learning, and work well for remote as well as in-person education. Instead, companies like Proctorio made vast fortunes, most of it from publicly funded institutions, by encouraging a worse-than-useless, discriminatory practice:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/06/24/proctor-ology/#miseducation

Proctorio clearly knows that its racket is brittle. Like any disaster profiteer, Proctorio will struggle to survive after the crisis passes and we awaken from our collective nightmare and ask ourselves why we were stampeded into using its terrible products. The company went to war against its critics.

In 2020, Proctorio CEO Mike Olsen doxed a child who complained about his company’s software in a Reddit forum:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/01/bossware/#moral-exemplar

In 2021, the reviews for Proctorio’s Chrome plugin all mysteriously vanished. Needless to say, these reviews — from students forced to use Proctorio’s spyware — were brutal:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/04/hypervigilance/#radical-transparency

Proctorio claims that it protects “educational integrity,” but its actions suggest a company far more concerned about the integrity of its own profits:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/02/16/unauthorized-paper/#cheating-anticheat

One of the critics that Proctorio attacked is Ian Linkletter. In 2020, Linkletter was a Learning Technology Specialist at UBC’s Faculty of Education. His job was to assess and support ed-tech tools, including Proctorio. In the course of that work, Linkletter reviewed Proctorio’s training material for educators, which are a bonanza of mask-off materials that are palpably contemptuous of students, who are presumed to be cheaters.

At the time, a debate over remote invigilation tools was raging through Canadian education circles, with students, teachers and parents fiercely arguing the merits and downsides of making surveillance the linchpin of assessment. Linkletter waded into this debate, tweeting a series of sharp criticisms of Proctorio. In these tweets, Linkletter linked to Proctorio’s unlisted, but publicly available, Youtube videos.

A note of explanation: Youtube videos can be flagged as “unlisted,” which means they don’t show up in searches. They can also be flagged as “private,” which means you have to be on a list of authorized users to see them. Proctorio made its training videos unlisted, but they weren’t private — they were visible to anyone who had a link to them.

Proctorio sued Linkletter for this. They argued that he had breached a duty of confidentiality, and that linking to these videos was a copyright violation:

https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/17/proctorio-v-linkletter/#proctorio

This is a classic SLAPP — a “strategic litigation against public participation.” That’s when a deep-pocketed, thin-skinned bully, like Proctorio, uses the threat of a long court battle to force their critics into silence. They know they can’t win their case, but that’s not the victory they’re seeking. They don’t want to win the case, they want to win the argument, by silencing a critic who would otherwise be bankrupted by legal fees.

Getting SLAPPed is no fun. I’ve been there. Just this year, a billionaire financier tried to force me into silence by threatening me with a lawsuit. Thankfully, Ken “Popehat” White was on the case, and he reminded this billionaire’s counsel that California has a strong anti-SLAPP law, and if Ken had to defend me in court, he could get a fortune in fees from the bully after he prevailed:

https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1531684572479377409

British Columbia also has an anti-SLAPP law, but unlike California’s anti-SLAPP, the law is relatively new and untested. Still, Proctorio’s suit against Linkletter was such an obvious SLAPP that for many of us, it seemed likely that Linkletter would be able to defend himself from this American bully and its attempt to use Canada’s courts to silence a Canadian educator.

For Linkletter to use BC’s anti-SLAPP law, he would have to prove that he was weighing in on a matter of public interest, and that Proctorio’s copyright and confidentiality claims were nonsense, unlikely to prevail on their merits. If he could do that, he’d be able to get the case thrown out, without having to go through a lengthy, brutally expensive trial.

Incredibly, though, the lower court found against Linkletter. Naturally, Linkletter appealed. His “factotum” is a crystal clear document that sets out the serious errors of law and fact the lower court made:

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1aB1ztWDFr3MU6BsAMt6rWXOiXJ8sT3MY/view

But yesterday, the Court of Appeal upheld the lower court, repeating all of these gross errors and finding for Proctorio:

https://www.bccourts.ca/jdb-txt/ca/23/01/2023BCCA0160.htm

This judgment is grotesque. It makes a mockery of BC’s anti-SLAPP statute, to say nothing of Canadian copyright and confidentiality law. For starters, it finds that publishing a link can be a “performance” of a copyrighted work, which meant that when Linkletter linked to the world-viewable Youtube files that Proctorio had posted, he infringed on copyright.

This is a perverse, even surreal take on copyright. The court rejects Linkletter’s argument that even Youtube’s terms of service warned Proctorio that publishing world-viewable material on its site constituted permission for people to link to and watch that material.

But what about “fair dealing” (similar to fair use)? Linkletter argued that linking to a video that shows that Proctorio’s assurances to parents and students about its products’ benign nature were contradicted by the way it talked to educators was fair dealing. Fair dealing is a broad suite of limitations and exceptions to copyright for the purposes of commentary, criticism, study, satire, etc.

So even if linking is a copyright infringement (ugh, seriously?!), surely it’s fair dealing in this case. Proctorio was selling millions of dollars in software to public institutions, inflicting it on kids whose parents weren’t getting the whole story. Linkletter used Proctorio’s own words to rebut its assurances. What could be more fair dealing than that?

Not so fast, the appeals panel says: they say that Linkletter could have made his case just as well without linking to Proctorio’s materials. This is…bad. I mean, it’s also wrong, but it’s very bad, too. It’s wrong because an argument about what a company intends necessarily has to draw upon the company’s own statements. It’s absurd to say that Linkletter’s point would have been made equally well if he said “I disbelieve Proctorio’s public assurances because I’ve seen seekrit documents” as it was when he was able to link to those documents so that people could see them for themselves.

But it’s bad because it rips the heart out of the fair dealing exception for criticism. Publishing a link to a copyrighted work is the most minimal way to quote from it in a debate — Linkletter literally didn’t reproduce a single word, not a single letter, from Proctorio’s copyrighted works. If the court says, “Sure, you can quote from a work to criticize it, but only so much as you need to make your argument,” and then says, “But also, simply referencing a work without quoting it at all is taking too much,” then what reasonable person would ever try to rely on a fair dealing exemption for criticism?

Then there’s the confidentiality claim: in his submissions to the lower court and the appeals court, Linkletter pointed out that the “confidential” materials he’d linked to were available in many places online, and could be easily located with a Google search. Proctorio had uploaded these “confidential” materials to many sites — without flagging them as “unlisted” or “private.”

What’s more, the videos that Linkletter linked to were in found a “Help Center” that didn’t even have a terms-of-service condition that required confidentiality. How on Earth can materials that are publicly available all over the web be “confidential?”

Here, the court takes yet another bizarre turn in logic. They find that because a member of the public would have to “gather” the videos from “many sources,” that the collection of links was confidential, even if none of the links in the collection were confidential. Again, this is both wrong and bad.

Every investigator, every journalist, every critic, starts by looking in different places for information that can be combined to paint a coherent picture of what’s going on. This is the heart of “open source intelligence,” combing different sources for data points that shed light on one another.

The idea that “gathering” public information can breach confidentiality strikes directly at all investigative activity. Every day, every newspaper and news broadcast in Canada engages in this conduct. The appeals court has put them all in jeopardy with this terrible finding.

Finally, there’s the question of Proctorio’s security. Proctorio argued that by publishing links to its educator materials, Linkletter weakened the security of its products. That is, they claim that if students know how the invigilation tool works, it stops working. This is the very definition of “security through obscurity,” and it’s a practice that every serious infosec professional rejects. If Proctorio is telling the truth when it says that describing how its products work makes them stop working, then they make bad products that no one should pay money for.

The court absolutely flubs this one, too, accepting the claim of security through obscurity at face value. That’s a finding that flies in the face of all security research.

So what happens now? Well, Linkletter has lost his SLAPP claim, so nominally the case can proceed. Linkletter could appeal his case to Canada’s Supreme Court (about 7% of Supreme Court appeals of BC appeals court judgments get heard). Or Proctorio could drop the case. Or it could go to a full trial, where these outlandish ideas about copyright, confidentiality and information security would get a thorough — and blisteringly expensive — examination.

In Linkletter’s statement, he remains defiant and unwilling to give in to bullying, but says he’ll have to “carefully consider” his next step. That’s fair enough: there’s a lot on the line here:

https://linkletter.opened.ca/stand-against-proctorios-slapp-update-30/

Linkletter answers his supporters’ questions about how they can help with some excellent advice: “What I ask is for you to do what you can to protect students. Academic surveillance technology companies would like nothing more but for us all to shut up. Don’t let them silence you. Don’t let anyone or anything take away your human right to freedom of expression.”

Today (Apr 21), I’m speaking in Chicago at the Stigler Center’s Antitrust and Competition Conference. This weekend (Apr 22/23), I’m at the LA Times Festival of Books.

[Image ID: A girl working on a laptop. Her mouth has been taped shut. Glaring out of the laptop screen is the hostile red eye of HAL9000 from '2001: A Space Odyssey.' Behind them is a tattered, filthy, burned Canadian flag.]

Image: Ingo Bernhardt https://www.flickr.com/photos/spree2010/4930763550/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

Eleanor Vladinsky (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Canadian_flag_against_grey_sky.jpg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[snowyh2o]

Just a random thought about how Alastor and Vox must’ve been really good friends before everything fell apart. Because Alastor knows how to make a video ad, he knows how to set things up for a movie/video shoot, things that had nothing to do with his medium, that he probably learned how to do because of Vox, because he was willing to try and learn from or for Vox. And Vox literally welcomes Alastor back home when he finds out he’s returned, has literally counted the years Alastor’s been missing when no one else seemed to know, and fashioned his clothing style to match Alastor’s (assuming it’s not just a case of everyone gets a pinstripe suit!), uses the same techniques Alastor taught Charlie about how smiling can be a tool to keep you ahead of the game.

And how it all fell apart and it wasn’t just Vox that was hurt in the process. Because you can’t tell me the man who hates TVs and modern tech due to its association with Vox doesn’t feel anything for what friendship they had and lost. Who snarls at the mere sight of him on a screen (admittedly while also dissing Alastor), who went straight back to his radio tower to diss Vox right back (and absolutely crush him lol), before threatening him against taking action, privately, twice. Alastor’s just better at hiding how much it’s affected him, and doesn’t let the bitterness of what used to be consume his every waking thought.

And maybe that’s the difference between how they view their old relationship and how the fandom seems to view it. Alastor’s upset about it, sure. He’s bitter now about Vox and everything Vox represents because he’s a past friendship that failed, but he’s also moved on with his life. Vox hasn’t. Vox still obsesses over Alastor, in the way he dresses, the way he talks, how he presents himself. It’s all reminiscent of Alastor. And when he finds out Alastor’s returned, the first thing he does is draw attention to how Alastor’s back! Talk in a roundabout way about how much he’s missed him! Has wondered where he’s been? Sends a spy into the hotel to, well, spy on Alastor! And when that doesn’t work, Vox continues to stalk Alastor through his drones instead. (And then gets off on seeing Alastor get beat up.)

Vox very much has not moved on from whatever friendship they’d had before. He hasn’t moved on from Alastor. (Or from his heavily implied obsessive crush).

We don’t know what happened between them, aside that it’s complicated and sad, that they were friends, and now they’re very much not, and that maybe part of the reason why is because Alastor rejected Vox’s request to join his team (upend his entire life to partner with Vox, assuming Alastor always worked solo and what the Vees currently have is what Vox had wanted with Alastor with his request). We can assume maybe part of why they fell apart was because Vox wanted something more from his relationship with Alastor, something Alastor could not and did not want to give him. Or maybe they just grew apart, grew distant. Vox constantly upgrading and changing and keeping up with the newest trends, chasing whatever new Thing that’ll keep him relevant, while Alastor remained set in his ways because he’s not looking for the approval of the masses.

Anyways, all this to say: when I, and I assume most other OneWayBroadcast fans talk about one-sided radiostatic, it is specifically about how Vox has a one-sided romantic/sexual attraction/crush on Alastor, that Alastor does not return, that has now turned into a one-sided obsession over Alastor. Not that their entire friendship was completely one-sided. I think saying that Vox was the only one who was ever invested in their relationship is a rather bad faith interpretation of Alastor’s character, but also does not do their relationship justice at all. It minimizes Vox’s responsibility in the fallout of their friendship, and puts the blame only on Alastor. It takes away all the juicy complexities of Vox’s character, how he’s bad person who’s done and is doing bad things, and paints him as an innocent victim to “Alastor’s manipulation”.

That’s not to say Alastor was completely innocent in the fallout either. But I hear a lot more about how the fandom woobifies Vox in their relationship than I do Alastor.

[cyverrieee]

[2] COSPLAYER!YUU WHO ARRIVED IN TWISTED WONDERLAND... WHILE IN COSPLAY

GIF BY @/SUGARFROTH

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01 ➳ FINALLY GOT PART TWO...

I can rest easy now..

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ᴏɴᴇ ᴜɴғᴀɪᴛʜғᴜʟ ᴅᴀʏ, ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴɪᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛʀᴀɴsᴘᴏʀᴛᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀʟᴀɴᴅ! ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴡᴏʀsᴛ ɪs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴇʀᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴏsᴘʟᴀʏ. ɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅʟʏ sᴛᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀs ᴄᴏɴғᴜsᴇᴅ ᴇʏᴇs ɢᴀᴢᴇ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ...

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ᴋᴀʟɪᴍ ᴀʟ-ᴀsɪᴍ

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Oh? You're stuck in Twisted Wonderland wearing Kalim's cosplay? The sunshine of the whole game? Haha good luck! (Just kidding)

Kalim definitely had like ALOT of questions... "Where did you get my wig?" "Oh did you make my outfit by yourself?" "Oh my god! You made my jewelry!" And that sorta stuff. Kalim might wear that outfit your wearing to compare and squeal because you two are matching.

Speaking of Kalim, Since Kalim got a boost at serotonin at your arrival. It basically gave Jamil more of a headache, everyday he has to pray to the seven to make him through the day with a bombarding pain in the head. But rest assure, he does find your Kalim cosplay nice (You might not have the same level lf energy as Kalim, but its better. And he secretly likes the outfit shh-)

Kalim will basically cling around you at break, basically trying to get you know better! Jamil wont mind as long as you keep him under control (give him a break please. Its been like that since 17 years)

Will give you the finest fabric materies, wigs, accessories, makeup—you name it, he'll buy it! He just wants to see you cosplaying. He might even ask you if he can cosplay with you! Its seems really fun :D

Jamil can finally get a break! *Trumpet noises and confetti*

When Kalim saw you WITHOUT your cosplay, he finds it amazing how you do your makeup and hid some of your features. Will ask you if you could use him as a makeup mannequin

Professional catfisher goes by again...

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ᴠɪʟ sᴄʜᴏᴇɴʜᴇɪᴛ

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HOW MAGNIFIQUE! I swear you will hear Rook start praising your cosplay. Vil will find it amazing, leaving small compliments every now and then.

You and Vil teach other more makeup techniques when you do each other's makeup. Rook also spying in because he wants to see this beautiful moment.

Vil also gives you some accessories that the cosplayer missed or something. Some additionals if hes interested in adding, Cue Rook complimenting you even more!

Rook calls you Roi de S'habiller, because of your ability to cosplay. He'll ask you to cosplay him (if you agree on it).

Epel thinks your Vil cosplay is nice as long as you don't act like him. Your impressions of him are impressive he wont lie. Maybe its too good that he almost gaslighted himself into thinking its the Real Vil... (Might give you some of his makeup that he doesnt really use... If Vil doesnt notice...)

Vil sees you without your cosplay, he'll definitely compliment your looks. Also might try to put some makeup on you again, he keeps putting random serums and moisturizers on your face while he tells you about it. He's having a field day with it (Now you know Epel's suffering)

Go Roi de S'habiller!!!!

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ɪᴅɪᴀ sʜʀᴏᴜᴅ

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He's fragile on the spot. His legs started to get weak, he vomits out of pure shock (/j)

Hes having a meltdown just seeing you cosplay him! Ortho has to try to calm down his excited ALOT. If you have someone (cosplah buddy) that cosplays Ortho, Idia will also expload in happiness while Ortho will be happy in a way.

If you somehow designed your Ipad case to look like his own, you have dedication i swear! Even Idia himself doesnt have the motivation like that. He praises and respects you! He basically admires you! He literally is so shock that you just walk around in anime conventions looking like him!

He'll definitely ask you if you could cosplay with him, better say yes!

Hes having so many emotions cascading through his veins that he stopped working... Will ask you to do his makeup, he feels like you're better at it than him. Maybe if he got a small boost of confidence— he might take a photo with you both in cosplay.

Of course, Idia knows that youre a cosplayer and you dont actually look like that. He wont lie, you are pretty without your cosplays on (Ortho agrees too!). Hes having a lot of fun with you because hes not the only otaku around anymore! (Ortho's glad his brother has a friend now)

Professional catfisher goes vrrrooom!!

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ᴍᴀʟʟᴇᴜs ᴅʀᴀᴄᴏɴɪᴀ

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Oh? You're cosplaying Malleus? Hah! Prepare for Sebek's obnoxious loud speeches how it's so disrespectful to dress up (i doubt Sebek knows the word "cosplay" and just refers to it as "dress up") as his liege. Lilia will just laugh at the scene while Silver questions or sleeps through it, but really— Malleus appreciates the efforts you put into that cosplay. More time goes by, Sebek MIGHT warm up to your cosplay and admire it too! But he will never say that.

Lilia will also ask you how you manage to make Malleus' features, while you rant about the process you made to make his features (like his horns). Sebek might listen in, i mean— its Malleus we're talking here of course he'll be here.

Malleus does compliment your labour on the outfit, he knows that his clothes are complicated (even if its just his normal casual attire). Will spice your outfit more by putting some magical features here and there! Oh is your cape suddenly floating,, i wonder who put that there hm?

Lilia enjoys your cosplays, he asks if he could cosplay with you or make him a cosplay. Now you got two gremlins together doing dress up in a different font.

Silver likes your cosplay, hes sleepy so he doesnt get much out of it soo he's just there.

Malleus seeing you without your cosplay, hes impressed with your makeup skills at hiding your features. makeup is just a tool use for people to shapeshift at this point. Praises your beauty, definitely deserved that :)

Professional catfisher goes at it, SLAY

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➥ ᴅɪᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ? ғᴇᴇʟ ғʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ ᴏʀ ʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ʜᴇʜᴇ!

! ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ғᴏʀɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ʜᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ! ᴅʀɪɴᴋ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴛ ғᴏᴏᴅ ᴀᴄᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢʟʏ !

ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ!

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ!

[medievalandfantasymelee]

To answer an ask I received earlier and make a general housekeeping announcement:

No, we will not be accepting counter-propaganda.

And we'd also like to issue a general reminder that we are voting and focusing on the qualities of the characters, not the actors. The actors may impact or even be a primary reason you love the character, naturally, but comments on the lives of the actors outside of anecdotes relating to the portrayal of the character are not admissible Propaganda.*

Like, yes Actor McMan had an amazing life. He was a spy in WWII, gave to charity, had four dogs and a pet possum, was devoted to his wife and never divorced her etc etc. That Has nothing to do with his portrayal of Sir Blorbo de Scrimble (unless he met his wife on set while she was playing opposite him as Lady de Scrimble/his real life pet dogs had cameos in the movie).

However if you'd like to share how you think Actor McMan's deep love of the source material helped him bring Sir Blorbo to life on screen, or acting techniques/choices chosen by Actor McMan to add depth to the character, or the chemistry between Actor McMan and his co-stars, that IS admissible and encouraged.

* The Master of Revels retains the right to edit propaganda at her discretion. Nothing will be added but sentences may be removed to better suit Tournament Standards and/or to avoid spoilers. Any Propaganda containing spoilers and some of the spicier comments will be put under the cut.

[ascalide]

Monologue in the Rain

Hey hey! So, today I'm sharing a collective colourisation of the panels in Spy × Family manga chapter 30 (I've been studying this chapter a lot!). The weather and mood by the end of the chapter makes it interesting to experiment with some colours and drawing techniques so I figured that it's good to give it a shot.

Nonetheless, I enhanced the mood of the scenes which centered on Nightfall, and I believe it looks amazing, actually.

I even added some sentences extracted from the english manga to finish it up. They are done in the style of the usual english captions you see on Youtube; for instance. So in the end, the feel of this work is leaning towards a "k-drama" feel to me. I hope this feel reaches the audience too!

This represents Nightfall's monologue so none of these sentences were spoken out. Yes, I also imagined a background music to go along with the scene and it has always been playing in my head endlessly.

Song recommendation below 👇

I'll see you pretty much soon, have a nice weekend ☂️

The original artwork belongs to Tatsuya Endo.

[allthecastlesonclouds]

bulleted headcannons of fh dance studio 🫴

oh my GOSH okay yes!!

aguefort owns the studio. nobody knows how bc he does one (1) type of dance and it's fucking BALLROOM. he somehow keeps the studio running though so nobody stops him

ayda works the main office mostly. she danced at a studio that did the yearly nutcracker and then got tired of it and wanted to learn some other versions.

(she does a lot of contemporary now, especially to hip-hop music. it's cool as hell.)

kristen does modern and takes ballet. she tries so hard and she is so strong but she is. absolute shit at anything harder than a piqué. she likes modern bc cass lets her work in her ribbon dancer. she's also Really Good with choreo and technique!! she can spot the issue in Seconds

she helps out around the studio a lot too!! definitely not to see more of the girl with the pretty side cut who dances in the later hours :)

gorgug does hip hop bc he loves the community aspect of it! and ballet- he does a lot of the background/supporting work.

he's never had a solo. all the bad kids want him to ask for one because he's really fucking good how dare he. he tells them that aguefort doesn't like him.

(arthur doesn't like him. ayda would fight the world for him.)

fig is a jazz+tap girlie but she was Raised on ballet+tap so she's signed up for ballet too! she's been doing tap since she was So Little and it's genuinely just. her favorite thing ever.

she crashes the hip hop classes often. nobody stops her because she has the Energy Ever.

adaine, like fig, was put into ballet as a kid (along with aelwyn)

she met riz and he dragged her to a hip hop class and she simply. has not gone back. added contemporary onto her repertoire and a technique class and pointe. definitely the busiest out of everyone.

riz tried it for like. school. and fucking loved it. he thought it would be good networking, good resume filling, good exercise- and also he loved it. that comes last in the list of importance tho

that guy choreographs and performs the most complex ballet pieces known to man. kristen has tried one during an after-recital party and that video is used as blackmail to this day

he does ballet and jazz. he's tried every class at the studio and settled into those two. he's perfectly fine in his comfort zone thank you!

fabian started as a solely Jazz dancer. his dad died and he underwent a whole buncha self evaluation and then signed up for so many classes- he's taking no joke like 10.

jazz. ballet. tap. technique. modern. contemporary. hip hop. pointe. he's doing it all and having the Time Of His Life.

and now we get into the actual *studio*! whoaa it only took 17 bullet points!

their studio doesn't do a show performance, like the nutcracker, or competitions, but they do work a lot on choreography and do multiple performances throughout the year

you can request to do a solo/double/group piece that's multi-track! ayda Somehow fits it in the schedule. you get a teacher advisor (for the bad kids maybe jawbone?) who gives advice but the dance is mostly choreographed by you

these dances are the highlights of the recitals. fig wants to do one but is already doing a solo so she wants to work on a group piece! she and adaine have traumabonded in multiple classes so she asks her first

adaine goes. you're not gonna believe what i'm about to do. and snags riz. fig grabs gorgug. they're the initial four.

they spy fabian after a late-night rehearsal having a mental breakdown through dance and go huh. he was already becoming less stuck up. let's speed up the process.

kristen swings by later, sweeping and restocking toilet paper and shit and offhandedly offers some solutions to things they're struggling with

and lo and behold the bad kids are created! they have No Concept of time ever. but they're gonna choreograph a dance and by god it's going to look good!!

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 3) Chapter Seventeen

Father Figure! Sherlock Holmes x Teen! Reader

Chapter Seventeen: Honest Confrontations

Summary: Sherlock and (Y/N) organize a talk with Mary.

            Sherlock and (Y/N) had spent all of their genius energy in laying their…well, not trap but something of the sort. They had uncovered all they could about the real Mary Watson, and now it was time to talk to her face-to-face. The father and child had made their decisions about her. Now it was time to see how she acted.

            Sherlock peered out of their hiding place and lifted their phone. His network had just handed Mary the burner phone. He looked at (Y/N).

            They nodded. They knew it was time.

            Sherlock dialed the number, and Mary lifted the phone to her ear.

            “Where are you two?” she said instantly, not missing a beat.

            “Can’t you see us?” said Sherlock.

            “Well, what am I looking for?” asked Mary, turning around.

            “The lie—the lie in Leinster Gardens—hidden in plain sight,” said (Y/N). “No one notices. People live here their whole lives and never spot it, but if you are what we think you are, it’ll take you less than a minute.”

            “The houses, Mary, look at the houses,” said Sherlock as Mary peered around herself.

            “How did you two know I’d come here?” she asked.

            “We knew you’d talk to people no one else would both with,” said Sherlock.

            “I thought I was being clever,” said Mary.

            “You were. We just made sure you had the clues to be,” said (Y/N).

            Mary paused as she faced a house. She had found it.

            “Thirty seconds,” said (Y/N).

            “What am I looking at?” she said as she gazed at it.

            “No doorknobs, no letter box, painted windows. Twenty-three and twenty-four Leinster Gardens…the empty houses,” said Sherlock.

            “They were demolished years ago to make way for the London Underground. They acted as a vent for old steam trains. Only the very front of the house remains. It’s just a façade,” said (Y/N). “Does it remind you of anything? Masks and facades?”

            Sherlock pressed a button, and a projector hidden on the other side of the street switched on. A picture of John and Mary’s wedding illuminated the facades of the houses. Mary’s eyes widened slightly as she looked.

            “Sorry. I can’t resist a touch of drama,” said Sherlock into the phone.

            “Come on in,” said (Y/N).

            “It’s a little cramped,” warned Sherlock.

            “Do you own this place?” said Mary as she headed towards the door.

            “I won it in a card game with the Clarance House Cannibal. Nearly cost me my kidneys, but fortunately, I had a straight flush,” said Sherlock. “Quite the gambler, that woman.”

            Mary pushed open the door and stepped inside the empty houses. All that remained was a single, long corridor. It was dark and shadowy except for a bright beam of light shining into her eyes. She blinked, trying to make out a shape inside it. All she could spy was silhouettes, nothing concrete.

            “What do you two want?” said Mary.

            “Mary Morstan was stillborn in October 1972,” said (Y/N). “Her gravestone sits in Chiswick Cemetery.”

            “Five years ago, you acquired her name and date of birth and, thereafter, her identity,” said Sherlock. “That’s why you don’t have ‘friends’ from before that date.”

            Mary took slow, careful steps down the hallway.

            “It’s an old enough technique, known to the kinds of people who can recognize a skip code on sight,” said Sherlock.

            “And have extraordinarily retentive memories,” added (Y/N).

            “You two were very slow,” said Mary.

            “How good a shot are you?” asked Sherlock.

            Mary reached into her coat, pulled out a pistol, and aimed at the silhouettes. “How badly do you two want to find out?” she remarked coolly.

            “If we die here, our bodies will be found in a building with your face projected on the front of it. Even Scotland Yard could get somewhere with that,” said Sherlock.

            And if I was right about where she was aiming on Sherlock to begin with…then she doesn’t want to kill us, thought (Y/N). But not wanting to and being unable to are two different things.

            “Show us how good you are,” said (Y/N).

            Mary reached into her bag and pulled out a fifty pence coin. She flicked it into the air and fired upwards. It clattered to the ground.

            “May we see?” said Sherlock, stepping out behind Mary.

            She turned to face him and glanced at (Y/N), partly obscured by a doorway. “They’re dummies, I suppose. It was a fairly obvious trick.” She chuckled quietly and crossed to where the coin had fallen. She slid it with her foot to Sherlock and (Y/N).

            Sherlock crouched and picked it up since (Y/N)’s injury meant they should stay upright. He held it up to reveal the hole in it, perfect and precise.

            “You’re an excellent shot.” (Y/N) looked at Mary. “But when you aimed at my dad, at a distance of six feet, you wouldn’t have made a kill shot. You didn’t even make a kill shot in the split second it took when I pushed my dad out of the way.”

            “Enough to hospitalize. Not enough to kill. That wasn’t a miss,” said Sherlock. “It was surgery.”

            Mary lowered her eyes.

            “We’ll take the case,” said (Y/N).

            Mary looked up again. “What case?” she asked, confused.

            “Yours,” said (Y/N).

            “Why didn’t you come to us in the first place?” questioned Sherlock, a bit frustrated.

            “Because John can’t ever know that I lied to him,” said Mary. “It would break him, and I would lose him forever—and Sherlock, (Y/N), I will never let that happen.” Sherlock and (Y/N) glanced at each other and turned their backs on Mary. “Please…understand,” she said, stepping towards them. “There is nothing in this world that I would not do to stop that happening.”

            (Y/N) faced her again. “Sorry.” Mary frowned. “The trick wasn’t that obvious.” They flicked a switch on the fuse box.

            The harsh beam of light shut off. One dummy was revealed at the end of the hall. John sat next to it. Mary gasped. John stood and straightened his collar.

            “Talk,” said (Y/N). The pair looked at them. “Sort it out. Now.”

            They turned away and walked out of the house with Sherlock beside them. The moment they stepped to the street, (Y/N) groaned and grabbed the back of a bench. Their other hand went to their chest. The pain had returned.

            “(Y/N)?” Sherlock supported them. “You need to—”

            “I’m fine. Just an ache.” (Y/N) forced themself to stand up. They needed to see this through, first. “Let’s just get back to Baker Street.”

            Sherlock gazed at them worriedly and squeezed their shoulder. “Are you sure?” He could put his own health above a gaze, but he wouldn’t sacrifice theirs.

            “I want to finish this,” said (Y/N).

            Sherlock looked at them. They truly had grown so strong.

l

            Sherlock, (Y/N), John, and Mary—all in awkward silence since John and Mary hadn’t quite found the words to speak yet—walked into 221 Baker Street.

            “Oh, John, Mary! How wonderful,” said Mrs. Hudson, smiling widely. She frowned as she saw the tense expressions on their faces and (Y/N)’s sickly paleness. “What’s going on?”

            “Bloody good question,” muttered John.

            “The Watsons are about to have a domestic,” said Sherlock.

            “I hope they do it quickly,” said (Y/N) as pain spread through their chest as they breathed.

            “I have a better question,” said John angrily. “Is everyone I’ve ever met a psychopath?!”

            “Yes,” said Sherlock and (Y/N), and Mary nodded.

            “Good, we’ve settled that,” said Sherlock. “Anyway, we—”

            “Shut up!” shouted John. “And stay shut up, the both of you, because this is not funny. Not this time.”

            (Y/N) nodded. They knew John was feeling confused and betrayed. They imagined it was similar to how they felt when Sherlock revealed himself to be alive. I believe this is “empathy.” That’s unusual…I must be going delirious.

            John turned on Mary. “You. What have I ever done, hm? My whole life…to deserve you?” The normally kind words turned sickly, poisoned by lies.

            “Everything,” said Sherlock.

            “Sherlock, I’ve told you to shut up,” snapped John.

            “He’s being serious,” said (Y/N), furrowing their brow. The need to breath was battling with the ache in their chest. “Everything you’ve done brought you here.” Everyone looked at them, and John furrowed his brow. “You were the man who went to war. You were the man who couldn’t stay in the suburbs for more than a month without storming a crack den and beating up a junkie. One of your best friends is a sociopath who solves crimes to keep from getting bored. You’re the uncle to a teenager whose biological father is a psychopath and is a sociopath themself. Our landlady used to run a drug cartel.”

            (Y/N) sighed and cocked their head. “Isn’t it obvious that you’re addicted to a certain lifestyle? You’re abnormally attracted to dangerous situations and people, so it’s not surprising that the woman you’ve fallen in love with conforms to that pattern.”

            John’s gaze went to Mary. He let out a shaky breath. “But she wasn’t supposed to be like that. Why is she like that?” His voice broke on the words.

            “You chose her,” said (Y/N) quietly.

            John let out a shout and kicked a chair. “Why is everything my fault?!”

            “Oh, the neighbors!” cried Mrs. Hudson, rushing out to the door to do damage control.

            “John, listen. Answer me,” said Sherlock. “Who is she?”

            “My lying wife?” said John, still staring at Mary. He was caught between sadness and anger.

            “No. Who is she?” repeated Sherlock.

            “The woman who’s carrying my child who has lied to me since the day I met her?” said John.

            “No. Not in this flat, not in this room. Right here, right now. Who is she?” said Sherlock.

            John sniffed and looked down. He squared his shoulders. “Okay. Your way. Always your way.” He pulled out a dining room chair to face the couch, armchair, and his chair. It had returned oh-so-suddenly to Baker Street. “Sit.”

            Mary looked at John. “Why?”

            “Because that’s where they sit—the people who come in here with their stories,” said John. “Th-the clients. That’s all you are now, Mary. You’re a client.” He was dealing with this as best he could. “This is where you sit and talk, and this is where we sit and listen, then we decide if we want you or not.” He sniffled, stifled any weaknesses, and stiffly sat down.

            Sherlock and (Y/N) exchanged a glance before walking to the living room and sitting down in their spots. Mary watched them before taking her own place across from them. She placed her purse down, adjusted her outfit, and looked at John. He couldn’t help but look back. Mary removed a flash drive from her bag and placed it on the side table of his chair. She withdrew her hand quickly. Everyone sat in silence as she moved.

            “A.G.R.A,” said (Y/N), reading the label on the drive. “What is it?”

            “My initials,” said Mary, deciding to be truthful. Lies wouldn’t keep John. “Everything about who I was is on there. If you love me, don’t read it in front of me.”

            “Why?” said John.

            “Because you won’t love me when you’ve finished, and I don’t want that to happen,” said Mary, fighting back her tears. She cleared her throat fruitlessly and looked at (Y/N) and Sherlock. “How much d’you know?”

            “By your skill set, you are, or were, an intelligence agent,” said Sherlock. “Your accent is currently English, but we suspect you’re not. You’re on the run from something; you’ve used your skill to disappear.”

            “Magnussen knows your secret. That’s why you were going to kill him, and you befriended Janine to get close to him,” said (Y/N).

            Mary nodded. “The stuff Magnussen has on me…I would go to prison for the rest of my life.”

            “So you were just gonna kill him,” said John.

            “People like Magnussen should be killed. That’s why there are people like me,” said Mary.

            “Perfect! So that’s what you were: an assassin!” said John in disbelief. “How could I not see that?”

            “You did see that…and you married me,” said Mary, gazing at him softly. “Because they are right. It’s what you like.”

            “So, Mary, any documents that Magnussen has concerning you, you want…extracted and returned,” said Sherlock.

            “Why would you help me?” said Mary.

            “Because (Y/N) forgives you,” said Sherlock.

            Mary scoffed.

            “And you phoned the ambulance,” said Sherlock. “The ambulance that saved their life.”

            “Sherlock phoned the ambulance,” said John.

            “I did,” said Sherlock. “But mine wouldn’t get there in time. Mary’s did.”

            “So, John, Magnussen is all that matters now,” said (Y/N), moving to lay down on the couch. “You can trust Mary. She saved my life.”

            “She shot you,” said John.

            “Mixed messages,” said (Y/N), sighing and closing their eyes. “Are we all on the same page?”

            “I believe so,” said Sherlock.

            “Good, because I lied about just having an ache,” said (Y/N). “I’m bleeding internally.”

            Sherlock jumped up, and John let out a cry.

            “Someone should call an ambulance,” said (Y/N), promptly fainting.

Taglist:

@stilesstilinskiforlife-blog

@im-making-an-effort

@ilse235

@schrodingers-intelligence

@awsedrftgyhujikol

@lxserthxngzzz

@forever1313

@mentallyunstablemanlover

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch. 22

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Author’s Note: Some references taken from the C2 videos.

You make it to the studio in time after sending Charles off to roam around the city and get some of his errands done.

“Ok so, so I have the basics for this track done, but I need your expertise in some of the mixing”

“Yeah, and I have most of the lyrics done, I just need you to check if they sound good with the track”

“Actually Hyunjinnie wrote one of the new songs, and he has some specific concerns, so if you can help with that…”

You head to the recording studio with Chan, Jisung, and Hyunjin to smooth some things out. 

While you record the guide version, you make some necessary improvements and set the guidelines for the vocals. “So cover me nooooowwww”

Hyunjin asks if you could try the line out in a falsetto and a belt. The belting ended up sounding better. “Also, I want to add to ad-libs, but I’m not sure where I should incorporate them”, he tells you. 

You try out some new techniques and conclude the recording session in high spirits. 

…

Meeting Charles at an internet cafe, where he’d found a simulator to occupy himself, you stood behind him, an Iced Americano in your hand to combat the heat outside. 

“Wow, is this what you see when you’re in the car?”, you ask.

“For the most part, yes. Do you want to give it a try?”

“Sure, but I can tell you right now that I will not be very successful.”

He guides you, giving directions from behind you as you steer. “Yes, that’s good, see? Quite nice and smooth… BRAKE!”

…

That night, your mother calls. “Hi Ma! I’m on a work trip right now”. She nods in understanding. You see Charles out of your peripheral looking at you confused. “The boy I was telling you about is here with me.”

“Ooh can I FaceTime? I want to meet him!”

“Hold on, let me check.”

You mure the mic and turn to Charles. “My mom called”, you explain. “She wants to meet you”, you whisper excitedly. “But only if you’re alright with it. I can tell her no right now.”

He bites his lip, weighing his options. Then nods. “I just don’t want to disappoint your family. Do you think she’ll like me? I’m not even dressed up right now!”

“That’s fine”, you soothe him. “I think she’s just excited to meet my first boyfriend.”

“Ok”, he agrees finally. Climbing onto the bed to lay next to where you are in your stomach, he mentally prepares himself to not meet your parent’s expectations. 

You unmute the phone and tell your mom to switch to FaceTime. 

The camera turns on, and your sister appears behind your mom. “Hi! Oh my god, so you are real!”, she says. You glare at her. 

“Hello”, Charles awkwardly waves at the phone. “I’m Charles, nice to meet you.”

“Hello Charles”, your mom greets him warmly. “I’m glad to finally meet the man who has managed to break my daughter’s dry spell with men.”

“Ma!”

Charles laughs. That cheeky little fucker. 

“It’s truly an honor. I have you and your husband to thank for creating this beautiful young woman for me to pursue.” He grins. 

“Oh, you’re quite the sweet talker. Well, I’ll have you know that you are one of the most gorgeous specimens of men I’ve ever seen. I hope your babies carry on the genes forever.”

“Maaaaa!”

“Shhh! Give me this sweet boy’s number so I can have him spy on you for me– I have a feeling we’ll get along fine.”

“Ew, bye.” You cut the call. “Uuuggghh. That was so embarrassing.”

Charles just smirks at you. “I thought it was quite enjoyable actually.”

“That’s it. I’m done. I can’t believe she would say that, oh my gosh…”, you face plant into the covers and wail.

You feel the weight shift from the bed– Charles must have gotten up. He makes for the bathroom and you think you’re finally free to wallow in self-pity when you hear, “Oh, Chéri, don’t forget to share your mother’s number with me”. You grab a pillow and hurl it at him, narrowly missing when he closes the door before the object can make contact.

[steponmeinejghafa]

Little Crow Pt.2

Summary: Inej teaches you how to fight with knives, you and Kaz share a very important moment of vulnerability, which also marked an important milestone for the pair of you.

Age: 8

---

You'd lived with the Crows for two years now. Two years of glorious fun, being feared, causing mayhem, learning a thing or two about surviving in the Barrel. Truly, this was the life. Sure, there we complications, but hey, nothing's perfect.

One day, you were humming to yourself, happily walking up the stairs to Kaz's office, because you wanted to ask him something and, frankly, you were bored.

You stopped at the door when you heard the voices of all the Crows speaking in hushed tones, so you concentrated and tried your best to figure out what they were saying.

"Old enough..." came Inej's voice.

"She's a child, you lunatics..." ah, there was Nina.

"She should be able to defend herself if she gets mugged," Jesper said. He suddenly yelped when you heard a 'thud', Wylan probably having hit him.

"What kind of psycho would mug an eight year old!?" Exclaimed Nina.

You heard the thump of Kaz's cane and tried to escape, but were promptly caught by the collar of your shirt with the crow's beak, as the man pulled you into the room.

"Looks like we've got a spy," he said, ushering you inside.

Inej, as usual, was perched at the windowsill, Nina was flustered and annoyed in the middle of the room, Jesper sat atop a table, Wylan seated between his legs on a chair.

"It's not spying if you live here," you countered.

"Seems like you've been taking comeback lessons from Nina," Jesper rolled his eyes. He glanced at Nina, "You know, I liked it better when she'd fumble over her words and then just say 'same to you'."

"She doesn't need you bullying her, Jes," replied Inej.

"Ah well, now that Y/n is here, we might as well say it. She should be the one to decide," said Kaz. He looked at you and asked, "Do you want to learn how to wield a weapon, little crow?

You gasped and grinned, nodding, "Yes! I want to learn how to fight with knives like Auntie Nej."

"It's settled then," said Jesper, playing with Wylan's hair. "She's going to be a soundless, knife-wielding Wraith Junior."

Inej chucked a pencil at him, which she'd clearly been fiddling with previously.

"First of all, there can only be one Wraith. If Y/n wants to emulate her, Inej can teach you to fight with knives," said Kaz, nodding. "And, if you'd like, Jesper can teach you how to shoot."

"Yeeeeeessss." You laughed gleefully, before holding up your hand, fingers outstretched for Kaz to press his gloved fingers against yours. This was the pair of yours' way of hugging, without the actual hugging part, but it worked for both of you.

So, your training began three days later.

"Okay, now keep a nice, wide stance so that you have some free movement, kind of like a boxing stance, you know?" Inej instructed, nudging your foot back with hers to fix your position.

She then handed you a pair of knives, and said, "Now, hold the knives in a reverse grip," she showed you how, "And now I'll show you some basic defenses and attacks."

An hour passed, then another, and another, till you'd gotten the basic hang of how to use dual knives.

Unfortunately, you kept practising after she’d gone, and while trying another technique Inej had showed you, your left knife slipped and cut you clean across the forearm. It added to the numerous little nicks you had gotten in the past hour, but those didn’t burn as much as this one did.

"Ow!" you winced, placing the knives down carefully before running off to find Inej.

When the Wraith saw you with blood dripping down your forearm as well as the little cuts everywhere else, she spit out her coffee and gasped in shock, scolding you in rapid Suli.

“What did I tell you, you’re not skilled enough to practice unsupervised? This is what I was trying to prevent!” She exclaimed, as you held your bleeding arm out gingerly.

"I’m sorry, Auntie Nej, but please fix it, I want to try again!" You whined back in Suli, confusing Jesper, who’d walked in at that exact moment.

"No," said Inej, taking your arm and inspecting the cut. They were not all quite deep in your tender skin, but the one on your forearm was, so she naturally was worried. “Come with me, little crow.”

“Are we going to Auntie Nina?” You asked eagerly, loving the presence of the young Heartrender, who always had a tin of chocolate biscuits ready for you.

“No,” said Inej, “Only little crows who’ve not disobeyed my direct orders can go to Auntie Nina and her chocolate biscuits.” She took you by the uninsured arm to the bathroom, bathing the cut very lovingly but still scolding you all the same.

Nina had to resist the urge to laugh hysterically, when she walked in on a rapid torrent of Suli, one from Inej in a chiding tone, and one from you in a whiny, little-girl’s voice.

“You know, you’re patching her up so lovingly and scolding her so harshly, I think the she’s getting confused,” the Heartrender chuckled, letting you sit on her lap after Inej had cleaned all your cuts and had placed you on the rug. “Isn’t that right, little crow?”

You nodded and giggled at Inej’s shocked expression, before you leapt off Nina’s lap to try and make a run for it. You wanted to get back to training, but clearly neither woman wanted that to happen.

Nina was quick to catch you, and Inej went off to hide your knives till the next day.

“Auntie Nina,” you whined, “Let me go, please!”

Nina chuckled and shook her head, “If you get hurt again, little crow, you won’t be able to train for a long time. You don’t want that, do you?”

You gasped, absolutely horrified at the idea of not being able to do your new favourite thing.

Resisting the urge to laugh again at your reaction, Nina decided it would be a good idea to distract you, and take you for a snack at one of the stalls down the road.

However, she was suddenly called by Kaz, who needed her for something, so she left you in the care of Jesper and Wylan.

Both of them took you to a little tea shop for an evening snack, and it was a place you always went with either Nina or Jesper when you got hungry in the evenings.

“So, I hear you got hurt today, little crow,” chuckled Jesper, playing around with his guns, as your eyes stayed riveted on them.

“Did Auntie Nina tell everyone?!” You rolled your eyes, trying your best to look exasperated.

“I mean, the bandage is pretty prominent is all,” said Jesper. “Maybe you should stick to hand-to-hand combat.”

“Uncle Jes!” You gasped in annoyance, glaring at him while you stuffed another piece of apple pie in your mouth. To be honest, Jesper was like an annoying older brother. He was constantly bullying you, and never hesitated to rile you up.

Wylan patted your head and smiled, “Don’t listen to him. You know he loves to bully you.”

You simply huffed and glared at Jesper across the table, before talking animatedly with Wylan about how you could make a glitter bomb to prank Nina.

Later that evening, you were lounging on Katz’s bed, reading a storybook Wylan had given you, when you heard your favourite person’s cane hit the ground.

You completely forgot that no one had told Kaz about your little incident with the knives, so you were confused when his stern glare dropped to a look of concern as his eyes landed on your bandaged arm.

“What happened, little crow?” He asked, trying to keep the emotion in his voice to a minimum.

You frowned at him, confused, before he tapped gently above the bandage with his cane. “Oh,” you said, “That. I was trying out something new that Auntie Nej taught me, and the knife accidentally slipped.”

Kaz breathed a sigh of relief. Good that he didn’t have to beat up and/or kill any person who dared lay a hand on you. As much as he loved a good round of bloodshed, he was too tired to do it that day.

“So,” he said as you sat atop his bed comfortably, and he began to shuffle through some letters. “What all did you do today?”

“Well, I practiced a lot, and I went for a snack with Uncle Jes and Uncle Wylan. So that was pretty fun. Um…Auntie Nej scolded me cause of the getting hurt thing, but that’s okay. I learned a lot of new Suli words!” You narrated excitedly.

“You learned new words from a scolding?” Kaz asked in a mock-incredulous tone, but your little mind didn’t notice the mock part.

“Yep!” You grinned. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“That’s good to hear, little crow,” smiled Kaz. “It’s a little late, why don’t you go to sleep? I’ll change your bandage for you and then you can tack yourself in.”

“Okay,” you grinned, grabbing the medicine box from the cabinet carefully, and handing it to him. You then skipped over to the little bed Kaz had gotten made for you in the corner, not too far from his bed. You did have a constant need for one of the crows to be near you, which, in their opinion, was quite cute.

Kaz took a moment to compose himself, and took off his gloves, which made your eyes go wide.

“I can ask Auntie Nej to change my bandages!” You exclaimed.

“No, little crow,” said Kaz. “It’s been two years. I should be able to atleast make sure your wounds don’t get infected.”

“But you hate skin on skin contact!” You replied, keeping your arm away from him.

He laughed softly, pulling your arm close to him. He took a sharp breath in as he felt your tender skin on his bare hands, but shook the feeling away as he snipped away your bandage.

He redressed your wound and made sure it was tight enough before pulling on his gloves with a sigh of relief.

You leapt forward and hugged him, your head in his shoulder so that your hair tickled his neck, and your arms went around his torso.

He kept his arms stiffly at his sides, unable to think as to what to do if this happened. He appreciated your effort to keep close to zero contact directly to his skin, and so he settled for a gentle pat on your back.

Kaz then leaned over to tuck you in, and you reached to grab the book you’d been reading, shuffling around so that he could scoot the stool beside your bed to sit on, closer. He took the book and saw the cover. ‘Stories of Our Saints’, it read.

“Seems like Inej has you religiously influenced,” he sighed.

“I like the stories,” you said. “I don’t follow the religion as carefully as she does. She found it at a bookstore when she was in the Universi District! I think she stole it from there. It’s got the origin story of Sankta Alina!”

“Ah well,” he nodded, opening the book to where you’d marked it. It was a story of Sankta Neyar, the wielder of Neshyenyer. “Doesn’t hurt to read a chapter, I guess.”

He then began reading, trying to draw out the story and make you sleepy. He succeeded, for after he finished reading to you about Neyar fighting the clockwork army for three days and nights, he noticed you yawning.

“Time to sleep, little crow,” he said, closing the book.

“But you didn’t finish the story…” you whined, rubbing your eyes with your fists.

“We can finish the rest tomorrow,” he said, placing the book away. “Now, the only thing I want to see is you sleeping soundly, without reading by candlelight.”

You took his gloved hand in yours and gave it a squeeze, knowing he didn’t like skin-on-skin contact. He smiled a little at you and ruffled your hair, letting you snuggle into the blanket.

You held his finger for a moment too long, which gave him the sense that you wanted to ask him something.

“What’s the matter, little crow?” He asked.

“Will you be there for me whenever I get hurt?” You asked, e/c eyes wide with innocence.

“Of course,” said Kaz. “Always.”

“Without the gloves?” You asked.

He hesitated, but nevertheless nodded, “Without the gloves, my little crow.”

You smiled and let go of his hand, holding the crow stuffed animal Jesper and Wylan painstakingly stitched for you to your chest. Sleepy beyond belief, you didn’t register what happened, nor did you have control of the words which left your lips.

“Goodnight, Papa,” you said quietly, drifting off to sleep.

Kaz had to inhale deeply to stop himself from making any loud sound that would potentially wake you up, and settled for patting your head and whispering, “Goodnight, my little crow.”

Later on, of course, Inej was subject to an hour of him ranting to her about how he will forever protect your pure and precious soul from the cruelties of the world.

———

Hiii! It’s me, Anne! I hope you liked this post <3 please give it some love, thanks!!

[hellcifrogs]

I honestly feel like Jiraiya could be a good teacher for Sasuke, not only on a jutsu aspect (the technique I love most about Jiraiya is the one where he lights on fire the toad's oil and I feel like he'd be happy to teach that to someone who can use fire chakra) but also on a more... Kind of personal growth aspect? Sasuke has always been kinda drawn to traveling imo (we see this when he leaves for Orochimaru but also at the end of the war when he has been accepted back into Konoha he still prefers to travel around a lot) and I think traveling and training with the most famous traveling spy master would do good to him

Aw that's a sweet way of thinking too! And yes, the damage Sasuke would make adding oil to his fire attacks would be awesome to see

[blingblong55]

I. LOVE. YOUR. BLOG. that's all I can say lol

Can I make a request for a lesbian reader coming out to 414 + Los Vaqeros, she had trauma from her homophobic family and now she is coming out to the boys she see as brothers, she needs a family comfort.

This one is kinda personal for me :,)

Thank you so much..it means a lot when ppl say this!<33333

New Family- 141+ Los Vaqueros

Please listen to Matilda by Harry styles. It works if you want a crying session!

F!Reader! Platonic! Relationship!

*Trigger warning!*

It was another day at base. Soap and Gaz knocking so things down. Ghost training the rookies. You and Price at his office. He had found you crying the day after you arrived back from your family. "What happened this time?" His voice soft, as if he spoke any louder, he'd hurt you. "I can't talk about it this time sir" your voice was low, you struggled to keep yourself calm.

The guys walked into his office, they soon heard your soft sniffles. "It's hard price" your voice shaky.

----

141:

This was all hitting too fast. Just 3 weeks ago you decided to visit your parents. All happy and excited, feeling alive and free. "Mum, dad, I don't date boys because...well.. I like women. I love women." Your then smile faded. "This is disgusting r/n, women belong to men." But dad, I-" "leave" and as you packed all your stuff, they harassed you until you drove off.

The entire day you cried. Your heart ached. All the good memories stayed but the future memories were never to be made.

----

"c'mon lass what's wrong?" Soap kneeled in front of you. His eyes looking for you, not this sad soul, your parents created. "I can't, I'm afraid of-" you stopped and broke down in tears. "We love you, you know that dont ya'?" You nodded. Your hands now covering your face.

"what ever it is, we are here kid." ghost rubbed your shoulder.

"Yeah, we already think you're cool, and also the most prettiest clown at base. Soap is the last best looking." Gaz said, attempting to make you laugh. "Hey" soap responded. You giggled.

"You promise?" your sad voice broke their hearts. "Yes" they all answered.

And after much hesitation you just blurted it out. "I like women. I'm a lesbian...gay what ever you want to call it. That's why I am, thats who I love." You never looked up at them. Price sighed. "You think that just because you like women we'd dislike you?"

"imagine how much help we'll all get. we need help with dating and boom you're here. You need ideas and w're hear lass." soap slowly placing his hands on your knees.

"we'll have a one spy on the inside" Ghost added.

Man were you relived. You got up and soon they all embraced you. "bear hug!" soap said as his arms fell upon yours.

"thank you boys"

"y're welcomed love" gaz imitated soap.

"Stoop t'at" soap's accent got worse. "I love you all."

"we love y'back kiddo" price spoke up, making you all laugh. Perhaps it was the nervous that had you laughing or the sense of a new home. Whatever it was, it felt good.

"And you'll teach us stuff, like techniques right?" Soap asked which only received a smack on the head from ghost.

"Just ask'n"

Los vaqueros:

You were assigned to work with Los Vaqueros, being that they didn't have any women on their team and they needed to connect with female victims. They became your second family. Always laughing with them that you'd forget your troubles.

----

When you were on leave, things back home weren't exactly how you pictured it to the team. Your mother had slapped you across the face. Yelling homophobic things. Sayings slurs and she damned you over and over. Your family was religious, big followers. Your father called you a disgrace to your family. Your siblings said things you'd never imagined they'd say.

----

Alejandro knew something was wrong the minute you set foot on base. You always came back from home with a little less of you and more of the you your family had morphed you to. Rudy was the only one you let in on the secret. He was always so supportive. Asking if you felt comfortable with certain things. Ale was different. He acted tough when around his men, and you couldn't blame him.

Rudy was always pushing you to tell Ale. But you were scared. When he got mad he reminded you of your own father. His words were always harsh, he'd say things to his men the same way your mum did.

The vaqueros would do anythings to please ale, especially on his bad days. So you knew that if he wasn't okay with you, then neither were the rest of the team.

For that same reason you are distant on him. Always with Rudy and never him. Until today.

"Que pasa?" he asks (what's wrong?)

"Nothing, just leave me alone."

"hablame a mi, mi amor" (talk to me my love) he softly says, eyebrows furrowed.

"I don't think you're ready for this." your chest aching.

"Whatever it is, im here" he gently places his hands on your shoulder.

You just wanted it out. "I like women. I'm gay." you mention without any hesitation.

"And here I thought you betrayed me"

"what? you're nor upset or mad?"

"Why would I? I always knew...I'm glad you can be open about this...does Rudy?"

"yes, he's been my support for months now."

it was true, Rudy was always there. When a man would say things to you because you acted 'manly' or vocalized how you felt about men, he was your guard. Your voice when yours was too weak to speak. He became your guardian angel.

Always guiding you and also judging you. "you can do better." he'd say anytime you would talk about a girl. "I see we have the same taste." he'd laugh anytime you described who you liked, and how you'd like for them to be.

Safe to say, Ale and Rudy became your big brothers. Always watching over you on dates. Gossiping about what had happened.

---- First off, ur fam can fuck off, you already got a supportive new family here on this crazy but cool app&lt;3. Second of all, I hope I can fulfill this request. I understand how shity family can be and thats why I didn't add much of a back story, I struggle with one my own family so I understand how how hard real acceptance and love can be...stay safe love.

Also to all my readers who are in the LGBTQ+ community or those who never felt love, appreciated, cared for, repsected, I'll always be here. I'll be a safe place for you all! Take care my dear!

Tags: @ghostofuchiha

REQUEST ARE OPEN!!

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

Okay,so I’m starting off with how I’ve changed the miraculous,since I now have a clearer picture of the re-write than when I first re-wrote chloe,and keep in mind some thing might change,and try suggesting other things I can try changing.

Now,for the more general stuff,I have given each of the main non-zodiac miraculous elemental powers.

My reason for this is that the main six just...don’t feel special.

These powers would work as a way to make sure that these miraculous aren’t just handed out Willy nilly,because once you transform,you permanently gain these powers-it doesn’t matter if you de-transform or give the miraculous to someone else-you always have these.i think this is a fun way to modify the miraculous to make it actually believable that they are the most powerful.

Also now each miraculous has different times as to when the holder will de transform if they have not mastered the technique(the smallest being the ladybug at still five minutes and the largest being the foe by an hour)

Now onto individual miraculous.

The ladybug:I’ve removed the ability to purify an akuma and now she needs the help of chat to do miraculous ladybug.in turn she gets the power of air and can fly or create a strong breeze or make a mini hurricane.she also has a bag that carries over from her civilian form(but dotted) and it’s linked via miraculous,so she needs to have it everywhere,or else she won’t be able to do lucky charm.

The cat:it stays mostly the same,only gaining the ability to purify akuma’s and getting the power of lightning.

The bee:now the holder has little worker bees that can be used for spying and can sting people from afar is the place of her spinning top(and yeah callimara and her re-design re-write was what pushed me to do this,simply because of the idea of her calling the others “her worker bees” so credit to her)and also the holder can control ground(might change later)

The turtle:I need a new power for the ox because tbh the ox is just what the turtle’s power should be imo(and the holder can control water.)

The peacock:stays the same and the holder can now travel through shadows.this is because despite having arguably the most useful power it will be out of commission for a good bit,so once Nathalie(yes,I said Nathalie not Gabriel cause it only starts getting used once Gabriel get hit out of comisión in miracle queen,which I’m debating changing to season two finale since mayor’s doesn’t exist a therefore heroes day would not serve crap)starts using its when the heroes have scaled in fire power.

The butterfly:the holder can now create a blinding light in the form of an orb(the butterfly is already pretty strong)

The fox:the illusions are now tangible but will disappear in thirty minutes,also the flute is now replaced by fox beads that can be used for illusions and as a whip,however it will cost the bead in question,yes the holder can use the a bead the make the whip larger/make up for the lost beads,there are ten beads in total.also the holder now has the power of fire.

The bunny:I’ve decided to take a different approach to fixing the bunny than other,as now,instead of completely overwritting the power,it’s now more of a “high risk,high reward” thing,where the snake is more reliable,but the bunny is more powerful.the snake stays the same but the bunny gets the added downside of that the holder will become extremely nauseous after de-transforming depending on how much they used the miraculous.

The rooster:it can now be used to manipulate memories,via erasing,forcibly resurfacing,or replacing them.

As I’ve said I’m open on suggestions.

You've really put a lot of thought into this. Would the Zodiac Miraculous have any additional abilities like the core seven?

[spotsandsocks]

Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @prince-buck-diaz and @buddierights thank you and I loved your snippets here’s mine and lets not pretend I’m aiming for seven shall we …

Author!Buck has a bit of an anxiety problem. Someone give him a hug. Also I have been fiddling with this all day so you might as well have the fruits of my labour - can’t promise it won’t change again!

It’s not exactly the first time he’s felt like this, he’s fully aware of what he needs to do help but he can’t exactly exercise right now which is his usual go to when the anxiety and self doubt get this bad. He’d tried listening to a podcast and when that hadn’t distracted him he’d moved onto a word game on his phone, which also hadn’t worked so now he’s pacing.

Despite his efforts the feeling is getting worse, he tries adding his breathing techniques but his stomach continues to do it’s nauseating flips.

Casting a slightly desperate look towards the door Buck wonders if Maddie will be back soon, she’s good at calming him down, has been ever since he was a kid. It's stupid getting worked up like this, you’d think his recent successes would have made his anxiety better but if anything he just worries more. He worries that people will suddenly see through him, realise he’s got no talent, that everyone will hate his next book or his new characters. That he’ll be blasted on-line for the way he ends the story. Mostly he worries that everything he’s worked so hard for will suddenly vanish overnight because he makes a stupid mistake one day and then he’ll really be the failure his parents always thought he was.

His feet stop, eyes close. Three deep breaths calm him a little; he’s being ridiculous he knows he is but it’s hard not to feel how he feels. Buck still finds this change in his fortunes surreal, sometimes he just can’t believe that Bobby's suggestion that he move to writing children’s books instead of the spy thrillers he’d been trying to perfect had worked out so well.

Tagging @alyxmastershipper @rogerzsteven @fiona-fififi @shortsighted-owl @cowboy-buddie @thekristen999 @panbuckley @elvensorceress @hippolotamus @monsterrae1 @heartbeatdiaz @littlebitofdiaz @mysteriouslyyounggalaxy @the-likesofus @bekkachaos @ronordmann @megsvstheworld @jobairdxx @spaceprincessem @like-the-rest-of-la and anyone else where wants to share a variable number of sentences

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day Two: Espionage

This is a long one (sorry!) but the next two days are shorter so that kind of makes up for it. Minor Pen&Ink in this, but it's mainly spy!Penny.

AO3 here Day: One

Warnings for: bad language Tracy Industries has always had a target on their backs. But this time, the attack hits a little closer to home. Tagging: @thunder-tober @skymaiden32

Tracy Industries was a pillar in the world of aerospace, construction and finance. It held a desirable reputation and was run by a family of charming philanthropists who seemed to consistently beat the odds that were forever stacking against them. They were renowned in their techniques and had contract offers left, right and centre. With all of this factors combined, the target on their backs grew increasingly larger.

As a company they had witnessed, and prevailed, through many, many attempts of sabotage before, whether that was from other companies trying to convince major shareholders to sell their shares, or from jealous rivals trying to wreak havoc by circulating false whisper numbers around Wall Street in an attempt to sow doubt within and around Tracy Industries. In fact, in the first few months following his father’s tragic and untimely death, that had been one of Scott’s first challenges. The eldest Tracy had dealt with an insurmountable amount of attempts in the years that had followed, and he had managed to fight each attempt valiantly, managing to keep Tracy Industries afloat one way or another.

This recent hack, however, had been a much larger threat that could have ended in a devastating blow.

At first, they had assumed the security breach was credited to the Hood, but after being reassured by Colonel Casey that their nemesis was still securely locked away, they began to search deeper. Their result was unpleasant. Angry and dramatic vows of revenge followed, though they would never be acted upon. 

The breach couldn’t have been described as anything other than a direct attack and it was far deadlier to the company than any other previous sabotage had been. This breach threatened to expose more than just a few financial details, or ways in which to win bigger contracts back from Tracy Industries. 

As the main exporter and provider for International Rescue, this breach threatened to expose the blueprints Tracy Industries had kept in their files for the organisation’s crafts and machines. 

Much to all of their reliefs, the blueprints for the actual Thunderbirds themselves were kept safely locked away on the island, but that still left some of their other life-saving equipment being at risk of leaking. The thought of other, perhaps less ethical companies, getting their hands on any of their design blueprints was bad enough. With the added fear of them selling them to the highest bidder, regardless of who that buyer might have been, was terrifying, and that panic alone had them all cursing themselves over the lack of security surrounding those files.

Regardless of John’s reassurance that the security system fitted by both himself and Brains was impenetrable, keeping some of their top secret files over on Tracy Industries’s databanks, just for the convenience, was incredibly stupid, and it was something they had planned to rectify in the following months. The move was one made from pure carelessness on their part.

To add insult to injury, Scott had then received a personal invitation to a party hosted by the very man that they strongly suspected as being the one behind the attack. He had almost declined. The thought of partying with a man who had committed such a violation to their company, whether they were rivals or not, had his stomach churning. He would have much rather turned the guy in for corporate espionage and be done with it… Until he realised that what they had, mere traces of evidence, was not evidence enough. 

They’d have to dig deeper.

Enter Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward, long time friend of the Tracy family and associate of both International Rescue and Tracy Industries.

The party’s location was being held at Randall Gardener’s private mansion in Beverly Hills and not at the office of his company, The Acorn Corporation. They had been aware of that fact from the moment they’d received the invitation and had planned accordingly. 

Gardener’s home office would be Penelope’s target. Brains had developed a special drive to expertly download all of Gardener’s files in record time. The device hid within one of the solid silver bangles she had dangling from her wrists. Though she rather worked alone on these sorts of missions, she couldn’t deny how conspicuous she’d look if she was the only one representing Tracy Industries and so she had relented when Scott suggested one of them attended with her.

Kayo was out on another mission with the GDF and so Penelope’s first choice was blown out of the water before she could even consider the Chief of Security’s company. Virgil offered his services, only to be quite literally batted away by Gordon. 

Once it was revealed that she would require a Tracy to hang off her arm for the night, Gordon had practically begged to be the one to go with her. Penelope wasn’t keen on the idea. At first he had so vehemently claimed to want to catch the ‘dirty bastard’ red-handed at his own dinner party, that Penelope wasn’t sure Gordon was the best option. Volatile, bitter and hurt were not what she was used to seeing with Gordon and, if she was honest, the sight worried her terribly. She had been inclined to take up Virgil’s offer instead but after a week of stewing, Gordon had seemingly calmed down enough for Penelope to feel comfortable with having him along. 

Throughout the evening, John would monitor them from Thunderbird Five and EOS would translate guidance through specially crafted earpieces, though this would only be when necessary to avoid distractions. 

With all the technical aspects prepared and ready, Penelope began to focus on her favourite part of any mission: her closet.

Penelope’s colour was pink. It always had been. It probably always would be. Her love of the colour came from societal’s childhood expectation of her; to adore the pretty and the sparkly, but her appreciation of the colour had grown in her later youth. By the time she had reached adulthood, Penelope knew how to use the colour pink to her advantage.

Just like tonight.

The gown she had chosen to wear was pink and sparkly. The hue matched her golden hair that was clipped in a way so her styled waves fell over one shoulder. Her manicure she’d had done earlier that day had her nails matching the colour of her floor-length dress, and her choice of necklace - diamonds inset into platinum - accentuated the modestly swooping neckline. Her outfit, as always, was a reflection of what they wanted to see. Pretty, poised and elegant. All the pieces helped her play the game all the more easily. 

After all, who would think to question the young socialite in her diamonds and sequins if questions were to arise?

Not that she was expecting questions. There was a reason Penelope had a stellar reputation within intelligence circles.  She was quick on her feet, agile enough in her social abilities to dodge unwanted questions and stealthy enough to leave no lead back to her doorstep. She liked to think she’d done her father proud.

Getting into the venue was easy. There were no checks on the door and there was barely any security on the property that could be seen. She didn’t want to jinx their mission but Penelope couldn’t help but think that perhaps this task of their’s was going to be easier than she had could have first anticipated.

It was a shame she would be proven wrong.

Sandwiching the main event of a fanciful dinner, networking was common during events such as these. This party was no different. The first half an hour, Penelope walked the room with Gordon, glasses of a sparkling wine filling their glasses before the party was called into a large, ornate dining room. Gordon was seated opposite her and both he and Penelope made patient small talk with those sitting closest to them. Once the many courses had been served and eaten, more networking commenced in the Grand Hall of Gardener’s mansion. Seamlessly, they played their parts and continued to blend in with the rest of the party as they mingled.

“God, I hate this part.” Gordon had whispered to her after they’d said farewell to a greying gentleman. He’d offered Gordon his business card in the ‘hopes it finds your older brother well’.  The fake smile he plastered on his features told Penelope everything she needed to know about how he felt about that situation.

“I thought you hadn’t ever been to one of these before.”

“I haven’t. Well, not officially. Usually I was with Scott. I wouldn’t mind it but… being the sole member of the family here means that I’m having to receive all the weird conversations.” He sighed. “When is the sleuthing going to begin?”

Penelope did her best to hide her fond smile, gesturing over to their host for the evening who was standing beside a nearby table. “Distract Gardener. I’ll go looking for the office.”

Gordon glanced at her with his eyes wide. “You mean I don’t get to do the cool spy stuff with you?”

“Gordon, you don’t know how to do the cool spy stuff.”

He looked at her, a little stumped by her frankness but, unable to think of a decent response, he merely grumbled, “I could have learnt on the job.”

“I’m sure you could have.”

“How long do you need?”

“Thirty minutes.”

“And if I can’t keep him that long?”

“EOS can warn me.”

Gordon offered her a nod. He eyed his target, clearly not looking forward to having to be the front of the conversation once again if his apprehensive bounce was anything to go by. “Good luck,” was whispered before Gordon melted into the crowd of attendees.

To appear as casual as possible, and to avoid as much attention as possible, Penelope waited a few minutes before making her exit, only leaving once she heard Gordon’s joyful greeting boom across the event hall as the distraction she was hoping for.

“Randall! Long time, no see, buddy! How are things?”

---------------------------------------------------------------

The office was far enough away from the rest of the party for Penelope not to have to worry about drunken party-goers getting in her way. She remained wary of possible security, though she came across no guards on her journey and, whilst she thought it odd, she wasn’t about to complain. It was making her job a whole lot easier. 

With the door already unlocked, her compact lock picking kit became redundant. Making sure the door behind her closed as quietly as possible, Penelope entered the office, making her way to the main computer unit at the far end of the room. 

Gardener’s office was state-of-the-art. Various gadgets sat on shelves, experiments he was conducting from home being strewn out over various worktables, and floor-to-ceiling windows which seemed to draw Penelope in, captivating all her attention for a moment despite her attempts to resist the distraction. From the mansion’s position in the Hills, the sparkling city of Los Angeles far below looked stunning. It was far too picturesque to ignore.

She only snapped out of that trance when she thought she heard footsteps outside the door.

“EOS, how long do I have?”

The AI’s childlike voice felt bizarre in replacement of the usual Cockney accent of her chauffeur. “Gordon is successfully distracting Mr. Gardener. I estimate he will continue to provide sufficient distraction for a while longer yet, Lady Penelope.”

Regardless of this reassuring update from EOS, Penelope set to work immediately. She knelt down behind the desk to avoid anyone being able to easily see her from the corridor, just in case that office door ended up opening somehow during her work. Bangles jangled as she retrieved the drive from where it had been inset into her jewellery and plugged it into the main terminal.

The screensaver image of the Acorn Corporation logo that had been lighting up the desk flickered away to reveal two windows. In one, the files of Gardener’s computer system. In the other, those same files being copied from device to device. Now all Penelope had to do was wait.

Brains had assured her the gadget was quick and she had never had a reason to doubt him before. Yet, watching the seconds tick by, the percentage staggering upwards ever-so-slowly, Penelope began to wonder whether, for once, Brains had been wrong in his design. It began to feel like she had been waiting forever.

“EOS, how much longer?” Penelope whispered, wary of the fact that she had no idea who could have been lurking outside that office door now. For all she knew, the device she’d plugged in could have triggered a hidden, silent alarm. It wouldn’t have been the first time she’d been caught out by a sneaky security trick.

The lack of a response from EOS had Penelope begin to feel uneasy.

Her eyes caught the screen in time to see the ninety-eight per cent mark tick over to the ninety-nine. Anticipation built up. It had almost completed. One more per cent and then she could find Gordon and get out of there.

Except the ninety-nine per cent never reached one hundred.

The entire system seemed to just… switch itself off.

Penelope, trying her hardest to not start panicking over what could simply have just been a minor mishap, began flicking buttons. 

It was pointless.

“EOS? EOS, can you hear me? What’s happened?

Faint static told Penelope that the line was still connected, if a little disturbed by interference.

“… I’m sorry, Lady Penelope.” EOS’s pause before she finally responded was so full of emotion, of guilt in particular, that Penelope could no longer deny that feeling of building dread that was creeping up from the pits of her stomach.

“You’re sorry—? What for?”

EOS remained silent again.

“What do you mean? Did you do this? EOS?”

“I was told it was for the best.” The AI defended herself before finally cutting the line off.

“By who?” Penelope tried despite the lack of static in her ear.

“By me.” 

The voice had come from behind her, from the door which had now been swung open, from a voice she knew all too well and had trouble believing.

“… John?”

She wouldn’t believe it. She couldn’t. He was supposed to be on Thunderbird Five! He wasn’t supposed to be here. Her head span as Penelope jumped up from her position behind the desk.

“I’m sorry, Penelope,” John continued, stepping into the room properly, “but I couldn’t let you download those files.” 

To his credit, John did appear to truly feel guilty over his words and his apparent actions.

“Why?”

John’s silence in regards to that question hurt her the most. Ignoring all the fears that were now whirling around her head, she attempted another question.

“Where’s Gordon?”

“Safe.”

“Can I trust you with that?”

There was a venomous quality to Penelope’s query which she didn’t regret one bit. Trust, it seemed, was not something she could currently equate to John. Was it ever something she could have attributed to him? Was it ever something she could honestly and safely expect from him again?

“He’s my brother.”

“Why didn’t you want me to download those files?”

Two guards, dressed to the nines which suggested they’d been blending in with the rest of the party just as Penelope and Gordon had been, entered behind John. Penelope eyed them and then the escape route that was just out of reach.

“Don’t.” John warned, sounding increasingly tired.

“You know me too well.”

“That’s the problem.” He sighed, as though that was her problem. Before Penelope could argue against that, John tapped his ear. “EOS?”

EOS’s voice filtered through Penelope’s earpiece once again. It had Penelope questioning if the AI had actually left earlier. 

“Message relayed.”

“Message?” Penelope asked, more frantically than she’d planned. “What message? To who?”

“To Gordon. To tell him that you’ve left, following a clue that you wanted to go in search of without him.”

“He won’t buy it.”

“I don’t care if he buys it. I just care that he’s out of the way long enough to not get caught up in this any further.”

“And what is this, John?”

Red rings circled his eyes and bags had long set in. His complexion was paler than normal, even by John’s standards, and Penelope found herself searching her memory to remember a time she’d ever seen him look so troubled. She wasn’t sure she ever had.

John spoke no words. He signalled to the two guards to take one of Penelope’s arms each before leading them all out of the office and down the hallway. Penelope didn’t try to fight them, instead opting for trying to get information.

“Who put you up to this?” She asked John, not expecting a reply and being pleasantly surprised when he offered her one.

“What makes you think someone put me up to anything?”

“This is your family’s business.”

“So?”

“So, why not let me look at those files?”

They turned a corner which led to a set of stone steps, which in turn led down to God knew where. John slowly stepped down them, as though each step was a step towards Hell itself. Penelope prayed it wasn’t.

“You wouldn’t have liked what you saw.”

“Which is what, John?”

The stairway curved around in a spiral, heading deeper and deeper below ground. That panic began to build in her stomach. It would have been easier to fight off if she knew she could trust John, but she couldn’t anymore apparently.

“We can’t help you if you don’t tell us what is happening—”

The fury of John Tracy was something Penelope had never witnessed in person before. Icy chills went down her spine as he span around to face her. His face was shrouded in shadows from the minimal light making it almost impossible to see his real emotions play out on his face.

“Shut up.” He spat in the most un-John-like way Penny hoped she’d ever have to hear. John sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he reined in that panic. “I didn’t mean— Just, please, if you know what’s good for you, Penny, then just stop talking.”

In a way, that was answer enough for her. Add all the little factors she had and Penelope found herself jumping to the worst conclusion: John was responsible for the Tracy Industries hack, or at least had a major hand in it. Why was still a major question that he clearly wasn’t willing to answer, neither was the how. 

A trickle of light glinted off his eyes, betraying the fact that he had tears in them, but Penelope found herself with little pity to give.

“Your brothers are going to be very disappointed in you, John.”

“I know.” He replied, head hanging lowly as he turned to continue leading them down that darkened hall way. “I fucking know.”