#its wrong so much and its annoying and its making it harder to use technology in general

[stew-chan]

"hiiii thanks for using Android Auto :) would you like AI to read your incoming messages and summarize them for you? :) "

literally who asked for this? who's receiving texts so big they want them summarized?? you shouldn't be driving if your attention span is so short you can't listen to 30 seconds of a text being read out to you?

stop putting ai in everything please please please please

[fite-club]

Idk I mean no disrespect and I’m coming to you with this civilly because I do like a lot of your opinions but this one is a little harder for me to see eye to eye with you— I think it’s possible to think things are heading in the wrong direction in some ways and not act like saying so is trying to push some anti-tech amish narrative. Like, I don’t think smart phones are great for a lot of peoples mental health and I think tweens shouldn’t have unfiltered access to most social media but I’m also not unrealistic and realize that parents are still going to buy their kids smart phones and have no semblance of parental control and how to talk to kids about these things, y’know? Not really an ai example and more to do with ipads and smart phones, but we’re going to have multiple elsagates and things of the like too and it’s always going to be more useful for people to complain about it than ignore it. And no one has to understand how youtube algorithms work to complain about youtube. Like, you cannot like ai technology for what it’s currently doing now and when someone says “they are against ai” I don’t really take that in bad faith and know what they mean. Because even if it’s never going away, there could always be reformations and solutions ideally to address peoples concerns. I think that’s an okay thing to want even if it never happens. Things like deepfakes I see as very adjacent to this. Back in the day people would make a big deal about photoshop and it still hasn’t changed that people can use technology to be disrespectful to others or even do more horrendous things. The way I see it, since it’s been such a hot button topic lately, I think it’s good for people to voice their concerns and have some pushback towards what things we don’t want from this technology. I don’t think people are naive for that and I also don’t think one has to fully understand ai to have these concerns. Idk personally, I just see it as a pretty useless thing to argue about. Because at this rate, there is no “team pro-ai” — because as you said, the genie is already out of the bottle. But at the same time when people say they’re anti-ai, I know what they mean, even if people want to treat them as naive for not fully comprehending how the technology works. Like I understand WHAT they are worried about and I do still of course hope for the best in regard to its utilization and more and more people learning about it. I think a lot of people are disappointed too in how it’s become a feature on nearly everything and I can’t blame them. I find it personally just more annoying than anything. I’m an artist but not a good enough one to worry about people stealing my art so I can understand trying to tell people there’s no going back from this existing, I just think it’s also fair to let those people voice their concerns in the first place, whether they fully understand ai or not, and not make them feel like their opinion is useless because of how far the technology has come. Technology development will always be unwavering but it’s not out of left field to say that you want technology to be used for good instead of bad and I think that’s a basic concept anyone can get behind no matter how much they still have to learn.

well of course i believe that people are allowed to voice their concerns and criticism about ai, and i don’t defacto defend all uses of ai. my concern isn’t about people wanting precautions or talking about potential dangers, my concern is people flattening all nuance out of these conversations to the point that “anti-ai” becomes a stance. you bring up photoshop here which i like because photoshop is ai. social media algorithms use ai. medical diagnostic tools use ai. a calculator is ai. “artificial intelligence” is a buzzword more than an actual Thing. ai is not a sentient being, “it” isn’t doing anything besides math. it is what people do with it that determines whether or not it’s a “good” or “bad” thing. it should go without saying that corporations using ai image generators instead of paying human artists Is Bad and i’m not happy that’s happening— but the “using ai image generators” isn’t the immoral or evil part. and that’s all i want to make clear!

like i said i’ve had a personal interest in this exact topic for most of my life so i don’t blame people for not agreeing with me because i can see how what i’m saying sounds cruel and judgmental, but i’m coming from a place with less fear and confusion. people are allowed to have opinions on things they don’t understand, but i just want them to at least take into consideration that they don’t understand how it works. like, remember when everyone who was afraid of vaccines didn’t want to get the covid vaccine? a lot of the reactionary fear responses there came from a lack of understanding of how vaccines function, which is medical knowledge not everyone has. i’m not calling those people stupid, their fear has justification, but it’s their lack of understanding that lead to the fear.

ultimately we agree that it’s useless to argue about

[inkdemon-whore]

also, got lazy and just watched some batdr cutscenes n story explained vids.

i can't believe they made audrey bendy's wife. like bro, bride of frankenstein much?

anyway -takes some of the stuff we learned about gent and silly vision, and digs up my old au-

-straightens out papers-

-coughs-

joey and henry make joey drew studios, joey is only ever really a man of ideas, and henry usually draws them up, even it's its a thousand adhd ridden ideas a day. at some point, even after hiring more artist, joey sees that work is still really slow so he gets the help of GENT and comes up with this thing called "silly vision" that's supposed to make work flow more smoothly.

i'm probably wrong, i don't remember and don't care to look into the lore, something something magnifying glasses (idk maybe the looking glass/seeing tool from the 5th ch of the 1st game) and specialized ink i think??? for now i'm just gonna say they found a way to do the stuff you can do in digital art like easily manipulate shapes, do stuff like digital puppeting and rigging, and found a way to implement that into traditional art to make the animation process faster (just think, a paint bucket tool, but traditional, without needing to go in with a paintbrush or something and fill it all in yourself a lil bit at a time)

(i'm typing things in a shitty order, but this is probably when the ink machine was made, but its original purpose was to pump ink through the studio)

though a lot of employees used this new, strange technology and seemed to enjoy it, finding it very useful, henry found it a bit annoying and cumbersome to learn. henry himself made a few cartoons on his own with his traditional ways, but as the studio grew, even if there was something henry made you could tell someone else went into the film and changed it. it all went from smooth, cute, poppy traditional animation, to looking more like cheap puppet rigged animation done in flash, being a bit stiff and almost lifeless.

man was having his artist pump out animations, and slowly henry seemed less and less needed as he was a stubborn perfectionist, and found whatever this ink did made most of his art and animations seem lifeless when handed to other people, and he'd often handle a single animation on his own. it would look amazing in his hands, but handed off to others, the results where less than favorable. when henry saw that some of his work was able to be tampered with like this, he and joey got into a fight over it. this was just one of many.

soon, as the company grew bigger and bigger, with more and more pipes being put in to help move ink around, the ink itself seemed to have a mind of its own. or some kinda hive mind thing going on, sometimes over flowing the pipes and flooding places, making it harder and harder to work for everyone.

joey ignored basically every single problem that was going on, and kept growing the company. merchandise, tours of the studio, a theme-park. man was biggering at a rapid rate, and he got a brilliant idea.

"what if people could shake bendy's hand? not some little person in a suit, but a real, dancing demon?"

the ink machine was then modified, still pumping ink, but was given the ability to create life of some kind. using the silly vision ink to create a little devil darling in the hopes that it would be the main attraction of the studio, of the theme park even.

many test runs where done, with many grotesque creatures being made, all of them dying and becoming nothing but inky puddles, essentially returning to what they where before being put into the machine.

the only way the ink machine actually made anything, was when henry was working alone late at night, and suddenly the ink stopped flowing. he hadn't seen the ink machine in its new state until now, and even then he was rarely ever in the same room as it, and had no idea how it worked. the new buttons and levers where confusing, and their labels didn't help. taking a peek inside, he found something was clogging the machine, and like a fool he reached in to remove it, only for the machine to take a finger with it.

the sudden pain and shock left him stumbling, starting up and accidentally pulling levels trying to catch his balance. without knowing what he'd just done, he left for the hospital.

little did he know, he'd given just enough of what was needed to finally bring bendy to life.

as soon as joey and some of the gent crew saw the creature, shuffling around the studio aimlessly, they locked it up. joey accuses henry of messing with the ink machine, and though henry agrees, he's confused as to why he's being scolded so much for it, and almost threatens to sue for losing a finger. joey shuts up immediately, which is a surprise to henry.

they keep the demon a secret, locking it away to keep it from messing with anything, or worse, killing someone. they don't know what to do with it, it just seems angry and bitter, and the ink problems in the studio just get worse and worse. little do they know, this thing can feel the ink.

it feels every flick of a pen, every rust covered pipe, can hear all the scratching, and music making, and chatter in the studio. it can feel itself being pulled and manipulated in ways it doesn't understand by this ink it inhabits. it hears it all so much, and being trapped in a cage, forced to sit and hear, and see, and ever read things without being their, but taking it all in. it's overwhelming, and it's angry. forcing the ink to burst from pipes more, just to shut rooms up, to stop people from animating, or writing important documents, ruining work that had taken weeks, and slowing progress in the studio significantly.

on another late night, after the demon destroyed yet another room, and more animation work over the horrible cacophony of sights and sounds it had endured, and despite joey telling him not to, henry is so fed up and hard headed, that he stays in the studio over night, salvaging what he can and working in a room that isn't flooded with ink.

for a moment the ink demon covers where its ears would be, snarling in its shackles and hissing at the scratching sound, only to slowly tune into it, curious as it's the only noise it's hearing. there isn't a hundred scratching pens, dipping into ink wells and scribbling harshly on paper. instead it's just one. quiet. deliberate. a steady hand taking risk that payed off. for a moment, with a somewhat harsh flick that caused the things inky body to flinch, it expected a pull, a correction. some manipulation of the ink to fix what felt like a mistake. but there was no pull. if anything the "imperfection" seemed welcome on the page. like somehow it was meant to be there.

essentially, without being in the same room as henry, the ink demon watched him draw for hours into the night. the ink its body was made of, that it felt cursed to be in for so long, was able to see and feel every little stroke that henry took. and for the first time in it's existence, the demon felt calmed by the scratching, comforted even.

from then on, the demon tried its best to focus in only on henry during working hours. it was difficult, and it would still get overwhelmed, but it was much calmer than before. surprising joey, who by this point was plotting to kill the thing. over time, the demon managed to gain more and more control over the ink, mostly from focusing in on henry and flooding rooms to shut things up.

it would play jokes on henry on occasion, changing whatever drawing he was working on when he felt him stop drawing, putting it in a new pose. henry would then accuse people of using that silly vision tech to mess with his art, only for him to look again and the drawing was back, or somewhat back, to how he had it. soon he just assumed someone was playing a prank on him, but he could never find out who.

......

i've gone on for too long, why the hell did you read all this?

.....

d...... do you want more? 🥺👉👈

[terzos-edibles]

Silver Linings

1. Gotta Keep On, Keepin' On

Summary: No kid, no tribe, and avoiding his responsibilities, Din Djarin has gone back to bounty hunting and mercenary work under the watchful eye of Boba Fett. After a job on Ibaar goes very wrong in more ways than Din would like to count, he is forced to flee with a very peculiar New Republic doctor. He is determined to get enough credits and fuel to drop the doctor off on her home planet and be done with it. But will he be able to part ways with her after she finds all the right and wrong ways to push his buttons?

Words: 1.8k

Rated Mature: language, canonical violence, depression, mentions of suicidal behavior.

“I don't know if I'm scared of dying But I'm scared of living too fast, too slow Regret, remorse, hold on, oh no I've got to go There’s no starting over No new beginnings time races on.” - My Silver Lining, First Aid Kit

Ibaar-

The fist of the Empire reached far, sweeping across the farthest reaches of the Galaxy; the deepest corners seemed to have felt its influences. Even the smallest, poorest planets had Stormtroopers deployed to them - a formality to further oppress the planets’ occupants and show their might - and dissuade any sort of rebellion from sparking. The destruction of the second Death Star and subsequent death of Emperor Palpatine at the hands of the Rebellion had shown that plan hadn’t, well, panned out. Still, in the five years or so after the fall of the Empire, the New Republic was just now starting to finally make its way into the Outer Rim Territories after ensuring that the more strategically essential planets were well taken care of. Remnants of the Empire still clung to those planets, holding out hope that the Empire would somehow revive itself and their loyalty would be rewarded. Many felt that the New Republic had abandoned them, that things hadn’t gotten any better since the Empire had fallen. It would be the same as it had always been. The Outer Rim would continue to be forgotten, continued to be terrorized by Remnant Stormtroopers, continued to be terrorized by pirates, and continued to be terrorized by gangsters. People had given up hope once again.

But, aid was coming. Slowly, but it was coming. New Republic troops were starting to make their way back out towards planets that needed them, bringing with them much-needed supplies and rations. Marshals were installed in the major cities and villages to help keep the peace and bring a sense of law to an otherwise lawless territory. Medical teams were dispatched to provide much-needed tautology assistance to planets that were unable to get the care they needed.

Doctor Gertrude Ásketill was the first in line to sign up for those peace operations. She was coming hot off of her time as a rebel medic. She was bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and full of hope as they deployed her to the first assignment. She had an entire team - plenty of assistants and droids to ensure that everyone got the proper care they needed. They were able to start a proper clinic, train the locals, and establish a line to the core planets to ensure they could get all the medicine and vaccines they would need. Trudy felt good when she left that planet for the second.

The second planet saw fewer supplies and resources. She thought maybe it might have been a mistake. This planet had a bigger population than the last. Perhaps they didn't realize they needed to send more supplies, but then the third and fourth planets came. Supplies and resources were stripped as funding got cut, and slowly her team was redistributed to other projects.

And that left Trudy on the fifth planet - Ibaar.

It was just her and a few other doctors spread across the Outer Rim that was left of the program. She was sure that they would be recalled back to Chandrila - the capital of the Republic, but that had been almost a year ago. She had been on Ibaar for about as long. She was alone; at least, it felt that way. The only other two in her clinic with her was an older model R4-7 droid named A9-C that had been reprogrammed to help in the medical field. The humanoid-shaped, bug-eyed droid was built in the early days of the Empire and complained more than he assisted. The other was a teenager named Max, who had taken an interest in medicine. Whether it was because he liked Trudy or wanted to become a medic was to be answered. He was a good assistant and listened.

The only other Republic representative on Ibaar with Trudy was the Marshal: Baxley Morgan. How that man ever got the job of Republic Marshal was beyond her. It was probably why he ended up out here. He had a good heart, but the boy was dumb as a brick, and while she was no fighter - she could at least shoot a blaster well enough to hit whatever she was pointing at. It might not have been where she wanted it to go, but at least it’d hit its target.

The Empire had put blockades up to punish the Ibaarians for being sympathetic to the rebel cause. The aid that had been promised to the Ibaarians had finally come, and it was a little lackluster. The locals were friendly enough, but they felt a little betrayed. Trudy couldn’t blame them.

Trudy had become jaded herself; things were back to the status quo. There weren’t any more Imperial blockades, but with the lack of resources and supplies coming in - there might as well have been.

Ibaar, all-in-all, wasn’t a bad planet. It was a mountainous, temperate planet. The capital village, and the one that Trudy was in, was nestled in a valley - built into the side of the mountain while the rest of the land in the valley was used for farming. The natural cliffs that reached their stony fingertips to the sky provided a natural defense for the village, and the hundreds of waterfalls that cascaded down their sides gave the village and farms much-needed water. On a clear day, you could see for miles around. Though for all of Ibaar’s beauty, the weather was the worst. They could be lucky to see the sun one, maybe twice, per month. The rest of the month was plagued with overcast clouds, fog, daily rain, and nightly thunderstorms. It took some getting used to, and Trudy had ordered extra vitamins to help with the lack of sun.

Despite being the capital village of Ibaar, Laakso Village didn’t even have its own docking bay within the village’s boundaries, especially - making already scarce supplies harder to get. Luckily speeders made that journey a bit less complicated, though it was still rough going. A local warlord and his gang - a former Imperial commander and his troopers - had taken it upon themselves to decide that the Ibaarian Mountains were a great place to hide and run their smuggling business out of, using the old rebel tunnels from the war.

It made things dangerous.

Unsuspecting travelers going to and from the port or any of the other smaller villages in the mountains would be ambushed. Those lucky to survive had their property stolen. The bandits would look for anything from blasters, food, credits, various forms of technology they could get their hands on, and medical supplies. Trudy didn’t know how many villagers and travelers she had patched up in her time there, injured by ambushes. While the gang kept the locals terrified, they still hadn’t been bold enough to make their way into Laasko Village, choosing instead to raid the smaller outer villages - ones not protected by a marshal.

Baxley was having a hell of a time dealing with it himself and had brought up hiring some extra help. Trudy had nipped that in the bud; hiding behind hired mercenaries wasn’t going to do anyone any good - that he really needed to call in support from the Republic. The conversation tapered off after that, and the emergency seemed to have died down. However, as it always did, there was no downtime. The newest crisis cropped up - the report of the flu on a neighboring planet in the same system. A planet Ibaar happened to trade with. Which meant Trudy had to work to get vaccines to Ibaar before everyone was sick. She had ordered them about a month ago. Thank the stars someone was on her side, and the vaccines only took a month to get to her. Someone had made the shipment hastily, and they were currently waiting for someone to pick them up. Trudy couldn’t pull her boots on fast enough when the docking attendant called her to report they had been dropped off. Within fifteen minutes, she was in a speeder with a blaster and Max in the passenger seat. They would get there by nightfall - if they were lucky. Trudy just hoped to the stars above that nothing happened on their way.

----

It seemed as though Trudy’s silent prayers were answered. She pulled the speeder around to the docking bay and left it idling as Max hopped out of it, striding up to the attendant’s office and rapping his knuckles on the glass. He had grown like a sprout since Trudy had been there, now easily towering over her - though that wasn’t exactly hard to do. Brownish red shaggy hair constantly fell into his eyes, much to his mother’s dismay, and he was a lot less intimidating than he liked to think he was, especially with those freckles. Trudy waited as they exchanged words, waving a hand as the attendant poked his head out of his office and motioned to where the vaccines were - clearly annoyed he had been interrupted from his dinner and whatever wrestling match was on the holo. Trudy moved towards the vaccines, scanning them in with the datapad she pulled from her pack and happy to see that they didn’t have to quite rush back with them. Their cooling system had enough charge to allow them to rest a little bit - though they would still have to make the trip back by night. Max helped her load the crates into the back of the speeder and went out front to buy them both some roasted tip-yip and drinks from the food cart out front. Trudy turned around, eyeing the gunship docked in the bay the vaccines had been stored in. Annoyance twisted in her stomach that the valuable vaccines were stored where some random visitor to the planet could just poke through them. Though, the presence of the gunship made her raise an eyebrow. Not many ships like this made their way out here; either the owner was here for a quick refuel, or they were up to something no good. She scowled at it as Max returned with the tip-yip on a stick and a couple of cool bottles of water. “We didn’t get harassed today,” Max observed as he sat down on the roof of the speeder, and Trudy took a seat inside. “You think somethin’ is goin’ on?”

She nibbled at the meat on the stick and offered a shrug, turning to look back at the gunship. “Who knows. I just hope they keep whatever they’ve got going on out of the village. I want to sleep peacefully when we get back.”

You know the phrase famous last words? Those were Trudy’s.

--- Miles away, a Mandalorian clad in beskar armor was about to attempt to take down a stronghold of bandits and remnant stormtroopers all on his own. Maybe Fennec Shand was right. Maybe he was suicidal. ** Chapter 2: But I Ain't Dead Yet Taglist: @novemberrain221, @blackdogdesignuk, @mistyfur5, @thepoisonofgod

[hyrule-kingdom-updates]

Astor nodded. He and paced the hall and muttered under his breath.

“I see...I never meddled in the realm of technology...but to think that Sheikah Technology could hold such a secret.” He tapped his chin, staring at the astrolabe on the other side of the dungeon bars. “I suppose it makes sense. The advanced accomplishments and feats that such technology is capable of...it’s only naturally that it is powered by unconventional means.”

Siv spun the Sheikah Core on his index finger like it was a ball. “Yeeeep. I’m guessing that’s what allowed the super old dudes to beat the Calamity all those years ago.” He shook his head. “So, yeah. Dick Lord Ganon is gonna use that to turn the Guardians and Divine Beasts against us. And even if the science peeps keep researching into them...well.” He looked up at Astor. “Obviously, they would never figure out this crucial little detail even after a hundred years of science-ing. So this is our little secret, capiche?”

Astor nodded again. If what Asivus was saying was true (And it was) then Hyrule were truly doomed. The Calamity would exploit this secret, and use it to flip the entire war on its head. This is what Ganon would use to turn the Divine Beasts against them.

If any of the researchers found out about this aspect of Ancient Technology, and adapted to it, then Ganon would lose his biggest advantage...and it might be possible to...

The seer quickly shook away the thought. No, even if they knew, the world would be helpless all the same when the Princess fails to awaken their powers. In fact, it would probably be more brutal if Ganon’s forces were reliant completely on the bludgeoning and stabbing that came with monsters. Machines would have avoidable patterns in a post-apocalyptic world, but monsters of malice would be exceptionally harder.

So yes...We keep this info from everyone. Especially Robbie and Purah and...

“How sure are you that no one else could figure this out?” Astor asked.

“Decently sure. I mean, it’d be pretty hard to guess such a crazy thing.” Asivus shrugged.

“Are you positive? Because I know my—” He stopped in his tracks, suddenly stumbling on his words. “I—in reference to random researchers—other non-specified—she’s not—Look. There are very talented and intelligent researchers across the kingdom, surely someone—”

“Did you say it yourself? Everyone’s way to arrogant around here!” Siv threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “No one’s gonna look for faults in their perfect little war machines! They shoot lasers, and don’t talk back. It’s a general’s wet dream. Even if someone figured out this secret, no one here would listen to them.” He waved his hand in a circle and gestured towards his half brother. “Case in point: You.”

Astor folded his arms and sighed. “Alright, fine. So that’s how the Calamity will turn the Guardians and Beasts against us. But what’s the actual execution of it all? The plan? What’s your play in this? How did the Guardians in the yard get corrupted?”

Siv was silent; thinking. He seemed to be endlessly swimming through thoughts and words and memories. The man fiddled with the discs surrounding the astrolabe, eyes drooping in misery. Interesting.

“I was supposed to make them. That’s what he wanted,” Asivus finally said. “Beast of water, lightning, air, and fire. Or, demons? Blights or something. Creatures that were to take on the Divine Beasts.They’re built slightly different than Guardians, so he needed a little something special to deal with ‘em.” He blew hair off his forehead with a huff. “It all sorta just came into my head in the minutes before I fucked up those Guardians, so the details come and go, but that’s the gist. I make the Blights, Ganon does his thing, then I wait at the Sanctum to achieve true happiness or whatever he was bullshitting.”

“But you failed.” Astor interjected. “You failed to make the blights, and thus today’s calamity failed. At least, in this timeline.” Siv opened his mouth to object, but he continued to think outloud. “The Guardians were a fluke, then. You were not capable of creating Blights, but wielded enough malice to corrupt a Guardian. Although that brings into question how you control malice to begin with...and why you were chosen specifically for the task...”

Asivus was silent again, spinning the astrolabe on the floor. Astor observed him for a moment.

“Is he speaking to you? At the moment?” The seer asked. “Every time you fall silent is when you start looking down at that device. That thing I can correctly assume is the instigator of all this, given that you look at it every time I ask about the recent Guardians you ruined.”

Asivus narrowed his eyes at him, annoyed at being so readable.

“Ganon isn’t in your head, as you said you were overcome with this information in the minutes you truly held that astrolabe and walked by the Guardians.” He thought back. “Earlier before the incident you said you had a dream, and then you found the astrolabe? You leave it on your desk as a paper weight, before developing the decent moral to drop off a potential lost item to the Sheikah. But then you were holding the astrolabe in proximity to the Guardians, and subsequently are suddenly given the revelation to the Calamity’s plan...”

He locked eyes with him. “Combine that with the truth about all Sheikah Technology itself...and the fact that your eyes only change when that core is in your possession...”

Astor walked closer and gripped one of the bars, calmly. “That astrolabe is the link between you and the Calamity. It speaking to you through it. It’s lending you the power to control malice. It’s a manifested vessel of Ganon’s ill intent for this world...perhaps made of whatever malice plagues yourself. Perhaps he chose you for the job because you’re brimming with his favourite substance.”

Assivus started at the seer, and blinked once. Astor took that as confirmation, but asked anyways: “Am I wrong?”

Siv bit his tongue for a moment, before sighing in defeat. “You’ve got Ligero’s mannerisms down to the T. The perceptiveness nearly makes me wish I had actually paid attention to his parenting attempts.”

Something twisted inside Astor at that comment, and his voice grew a dangerous edge. “I’m nothing like him.”

“It’s alright, don’t take it personally. I just have a love-hate relationship with smart people.”

“Tsk.” The prophet stared down the corridor in thought. “Don’t we all.”

“But you’re wrong about one thing.” Siv added, and he looked up at Astor with a new seriousness. “I didn’t ‘fail’ to make the blights.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I didn’t fail to make the blights, I didn’t want to.” Asivus raised his voice, and rolled the astrolabe to the other side of the cell. “You can’t fail something you never really attempted in the first place.” He winked. “I mean, that’s been my philosophy on life for the last 15 years, heh.”

Astor blinked in surprise. “But...why? The world is doomed, and you were handed a position of life and power on a silver tray. Chosen above anyone else.  Why wouldn’t—?”

“I didn’t do it because I’m not like you, pissface!” Siv snapped. “I jump outta my socks to make a selfish decision. I don’t just run away from any inconvenience in my life.”

Astor nearly laughed. “Oh? And what exactly is it that you do, then? You’re really going to preach to me, Mr. Assivus Asunder?”

“YEAH! That name is exactly why I decided this!” He waved his arms in the air, and gestured to himself as he slumped against the wall. “Taking action and fighting for anything, regardless of what, sucks ass. Initiating change? Bad. Acting on what you care about? No likey.” Siv pounded his chest proudly. “The ideal ending for Asivus Ex-Hartell is to just chill out, and wait for the end. Drink in hand!”

He raised his empty flask, but nonetheless pretended to drink.

Astor frowned, but let the distant drip of leaking water echo in the corridor.

He watched Siv for a few more minutes, silently tapping his fingers on his elbow.

“You still care about your brother.”

It was a good think his flask was empty, as otherwise he would have spit out his drink. Siv angrily sputtered. “The fuck does that have to do with anything—?!”

“Why are you just relaxing in there after all this time?  You think you deserve this? Don’t want to be a burden for others?” Astor looked him up and down.

“Listen, you little shit. I know at this point it shouldn’t be a surprise that my family is made up of asshole, but—”

“You know when I first saw you around the castle, I did recognize you. The eyes, you see. But of course, I didn’t see the need to trouble you with my story, but I did watch you.” The prophet sneered. “Dear Asivus Hartell, sneaking into town to share a peach cobbler with his niece. Assivus Asunder, teaching his nephew to shield surf, and trying to encourage him down a more righteous path than his own. The Royal Orator Siv, who thanks his little brother for taking care of him by spending four hours making perfect hand drawn rat doodle cards.” Astor leaned down with a smirk. “You’re not the only one who paid attention to the captain’s birthday presents.”

“Alright get to the point, fuckface.” He waved the prophet off. “What? I screw around with my dumb family. What’s it gotta do with anything?”

“It means that for all your talk of laying down and dying and giving up, your action seems to indicate that you don’t actually believe that.” He jabbed a finger at Siv through the bars. “Or at least you don’t fully. Maybe you don’t want to. So don’t go blathering about your sorry life, only to try and insult me in the next minute. This isn’t about your apathy. You’re just scrambling at this low bar Ganon gives you as you drool the rare opportunity to unequivocally be an undeniably good person. You just want to tell yourself you’re a hero.”

Quiet.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“OK.” Asivus curled his lip. “I didn’t want to join Ganon, because I’m still stupidly trying to not be an asshole. I’m too much of a wuss to commit to the dickhead role I was probably meant to fulfill. I’m pathetically trying to keep control over my image—is THAT what you want to hear, magic man? Congratu-fucking-lations. You turned the tables, you can see how pathetic I am and can feel better about yourself. How do ya feel?” The astrolabe had rolled by Asivus’ lap, and gold speckled in his eyes.

Astor sighed and answered honestly. “...Well. I’m envious, truth be told.” Siv blinked, but let him continue. “I haven’t bothered trying to be a hero my whole life, much less have such a driven (and these days useless) hunger to be ‘good.’” The seer shook his head, staring down the hall again. “I’m envious, but I do think you’re a fool. I’d take the opportunity to wield the future in a heartbeat, no matter the consequences.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” Siv chuckled. “This malice stuff is fucked up.”

“Only because you don’t understand it.” Astor replied, offended. “I’ve studies it for years, and it’s often misunderstood. There’s a beauty and usefulness to it, even detached from the Calamity. You’re just not intelligent enough to get it, I understand. ‘Love-hate relationship,’ like you said.” He snorted.

“Are you sick?! This Ancient Core thing made me walk through so many shitty memories and thoughts...I wouldn’t walk through that again to end OR save the world.”

“Again. All due to your plight of ignorance. It’s not your fault.”

Asivus rolled his eyes. “You know what? Why don’t you explain it me then?! If you’re so excited about it? Talk aaall about how I’m not fit to properly wield this and how pathetic I am?”

Siv dangled the astrolabe in the air between his fingers.

“Go on! Explain how great this malice is, and maybe then if you’re so eager I’ll just leave the thing in your care!”

[klbwriting]

The Sparrow and The Rogue - Part 2

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Pairing: Ben Hargreeves/female!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, once again fighting

Summary: The Umbrella siblings learn about what’s been going on in this timeline, One lives a day in his life, and has a pretty fun date trying to kill his wannabe girlfriend

              Even though the Umbrella siblings were promised an explanation that evening they never got one.  At least most of them didn’t.  There was a debrief to the small group of powered adults by Lila and Eight and then Diego and Lila disappeared somewhere while the rest of the group had dinner with what they discovered were a team called the ‘Rogues’ and they were kidnapped from directly under Reginald’s nose.  Most of them had chosen names while a couple stayed with their numbers, liking the way they sounded.  Eleven was very happy now that they kept their named now that Stranger Things was popular and they had the same powers as the character in the show.  They were giving rooms in the hideout, having to double up with the Rogues already there.  It was a surprise to no one that Diego was just fine sharing with Lila and Allison was almost a little nervous to share with Eight not knowing what her power was.

              “You look happy,” she said, trying to break the ice with the girl who was texting and had a smile on her face.  Eight looked over as if she forgot Allison was there and blushed, putting the phone under her pillow quick.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

              “Its no big deal, just don’t tell Lila about it ok?” she said. Allison nodded with a smile.  “She would be very annoyed if she found out I was texting with someone inside the Sparrows.”

              “Ben?” Allison asked, sitting up now, full ready to have some girl time.  Eight considered this, then finally sat up herself.  She never got to talk to anyone about One and how confusing things were between them.  

              “Ya, he’s One here, he was your brother?” she asked. Allison nodded.

              “Ya, he was killed on a mission when we were teenagers. Klaus could still see him, he communes with the dead, but the rest of us weren’t so lucky,” she said.  

              “What was he like in your time?”  Allison considered how to answer.

              “We weren’t super close, he was always close with Vanya and Diego, he was so kind to everyone, especially the ones dad was hardest on.  I remember one time I was walking by Diego’s room while he was practicing his speech and Ben was in there, they had to have been 7 maybe, and he was just sitting there listening and encouraging him.  Diego was crying after a bit of not being able to get a word out and Ben just took his hand and said ‘don’t think about dad, just think about talking to me, you know you can take your time with me’.  That’s who Ben was, just the best,” she said, getting a little teary thinking about her lost brother.  Eight smiled and moved to sit next to Allison, a comforting arm going around her shoulders.

              “That version is still here.  I have seen moments of that person in One, that kindness,” she said. “My first memory is with One, when I think we were 4, its really simple, I had fallen and scraped up my knee during a morning run and dad was livid at me, even at 4 I was always too big and slow for him to tolerate so he made me do extra laps and One was there with me the whole time, ran every single one next to me even though he was faster and could have been done, he stayed with me.”  

              “That sounds like Ben,” Allison agreed.  “I hope maybe we can get past this, I don’t know what dad is planning but I’m so tired of running around and being chased, just so tired.”  Eight nodded.

              “Get some sleep, no one will wake you up tomorrow so you can get a good rest,” she said, moving back to her bed and laying down. Allison followed suit and she closed her eyes, drifting off to a music box playing now in the room.  She hadn’t noticed one being around before but Eight must have had next to her somewhere.  Once she was sleeping Eight lifted a hand and the music box across the room stopped playing, letting her fall asleep also.  

 -------------------------

             Number One was going through the motions today. He had woken up early as usual and went to the kitchen to help mom make breakfast.  He knew she couldn’t really appreciate it like a person, but he thought she enjoyed spending time with him anyway.  He could feel his father’s present before he saw him, entering the kitchen and giving him a disproving look, still angry about dinner no doubt.

              “Good morning Number One, feeling a little less rebellious today?” he said, sitting at the breakfast table and looking through a morning paper.  One glared at the eggs he was plating and set the plate down in front of Reginald a little harder than he meant.  “Ah, I see you are still in a mood.  Very well, you will be in charge of leading drills this morning, now eat your eggs.” One didn’t say anything but internally he groaned, drills made everyone hate him for days.  He ate in silence with the rest of his siblings before standing and telling them to get up and get to the yard.  They shot him death glares before doing as asked, knowing the punishment was worse than the drills.

              Two hours later and his siblings were off again, probably meeting in one of their rooms to talk about how much they hated him and his kiss ass ways.  One however, had more work to do, heading out to do his first patrol of the day.  He had no idea why dad sent him to do patrols instead of waiting for something to happen, especially now that the Umbrella siblings had shown up.  First the patrols were for them, then they became patrols for general crime, but now that the word of the Horror had spread no one would dare commit a crime in the city limits unless they wanted to die a horrible death over 30$ in some purse.

              This time out in the city gave him a chance to release some stress that he needed.  He found a park nearby and soon was casually swinging watching the kids around him and reminding himself of why he dealt with everything.  Without the Sparrow Academy the apocalypse would have happened two days ago.  They had saved history, keeping the timeline on track after something called ‘The Commission’ went belly up in the 60s due to some kind of explosion.  Where they had left off Reginald had picked it up, first on his own, and then when the 43 were born, with the 15 he had been able to get his hands on.  They had been whittled down to 6 humans and a box that told them where to go and got them in and out.  Ben may have hated his father but he would protect these people, always.  

              One patrolled until lunch, stopping at the kitchen table to eat alone before going to his room and checking his messages on his secret phone.  Before he could open it he had to hide it under his pillow as his door was shoved open and Number Two walked in.  Two stood silent for a second, seemingly realizing that he had caught One doing something he shouldn’t.

              “You alright One?” he asked suspiciously.  One stood up, facing off against his sibling, mustering up his bravado.

              “Ya, what do you want number Two?” he emphasized the word two just to irritate them.  They growled, glaring.

              “Dad wanted to have us trade patrols tonight, I’ll take 9th to 15th, you take the old trainyards,” Two said.  “Starting now, I’m supposed to watch you leave.” One gritted his teeth, anger seething through him.  

              “Let me get ready, I need to get my shoes,” he said. Two just stood in the doorway watching as One went back to his bed, sitting down and tying his shoes extra slow, hoping something would happen to make Two glance away.  Someone must have heard his silent plea because something clunked in the hall making Two look around for a fight.  One grabbed the phone and shoved it in his pocket before standing up.  “Alright, you want to walk me to the front door too?”  Two glared and let him pass by, closing his door behind him.

              After he was outside and a couple blocks away he texted Eight, letting her know of the change of plans, before heading down to the trainyards, thinking about maybe doing some sprints while he waited for her.

 -----------------------

              The Umbrella siblings sat in the main room of the hideout with Lila and Eight, Lila explaining what had happened to the Commission and what the Sparrow Academy had been up to.  They knew that after the Commission was taken down those in the ‘Resistance’ had taken up control of the timeline under rule of Lila and the kids she had collected from over time, starting with Eight.  

              “We developed the traveling technology by stealing what Reginald had already figured out.  The briefcases were big and too easy to lose, too much of a hassle, so instead Reginald created watches capable of the travel,” she explained.

              “How did he figure that out?  I watched the Commission try for decades to create that kind of technology,” Five cut in.  Lila glared at him, still not exactly happy that he was alive after killing her parents, no matter who had ordered the hit.

              “I don’t know, took a few tests to figure out how to use the watches, but now we can track where the Sparrows go and then fix whatever they mess up in history, keep the timeline on track,” Lila explained. Confusion rippled through the room.

              “What do you mean you fix the Sparrows messes?” Luther asked, sitting forward, the chair creaking loudly.  He made a face and waited for someone to say something just so he could hit them.  

              “The Sparrows travel around on orders from dad to ‘fix’ history, ya know, kill Steve Jobs before the iPhone, assassinate Abe Lincoln when he’s running for president, take out Thomas Jefferson, although that last one I really hated to fix,” Eight said.  “Such a brilliant mind, such a shit fucking person.”  She stood up and went to stand by the open door, Lila looking over at her.

              “What’s wrong with you?” Lila asked.  

              “I’m warm, there’s a draft over here,” Eight explained, leaning on the wall, hand in her jacket pocket.  

              “Why don’t you just take off the jacket?” Klaus asked, getting elbowed by Allison.  “What?”

              “I like this jacket,” was her answer before she looked out the doorway.  Lila rolled her eyes and returned to the original conversation.

              “So after we fix their messes, they make more messes.  We’re not sure what exactly Reggie is trying to do but either way, we know we have to make sure history happens as expected.  Except for the apocalypse, none of us could really muster the desire to stop fixing that,” she said.

              “So now we’re in no mans land?” Vayna asked, getting a little nervous about bringing about another end of the world scenario. Lila nodded.

              “Honestly, only Five has lived past the apocalypse and now that it didn’t happen I don’t know what the game plan from here is, I just know what happens in actual history to keep that on track, what those changes bring in the future is a crap shoot,” she said.  “Isn’t that right Eight?  Eight?”  She turned to see the doorway empty, no trace of Eight left in the hide out anymore. Allison sat in her seat and smiled softly, having an inkling where she was going, hoping that maybe she could turn Ben back to their side.  

 ----------------------

              Eight had gotten One’s message and headed towards the trainyards.  She passed by Number Four along the way and realized quick that One was being followed. She acted like she was patrolling, hoping to not have to fight Four but knowing it was a possibility.  Four however, let her pass, clearly just being around to watch their brother and what he was doing.  Once at the trainyards Eight dipped through old train cars, running up and down tracks until she saw One.  She approached him slowly.

              “You have a friend around,” she said.  One’s eyes flashed the area and he caught a quick glance of crimson ducking behind a car nearby.  “So I guess this is another fight to the death?”

              “Guess so,” he said with a smirk.  Eight smiled back sweetly.  “No powers?”

              “No powers, pinky promise,” she said before diving towards him, fist raised.  

              One easily blocked the shot, moving around to fire back with his own fist.  Eight easily dodged and punched his stomach, pulling the hit so it didn’t actually hurt. One doubled over anyways, spearing her around the waist and taking her to ground, just out of view of Four.

              “So, ready to play dead?” he asked, holding her shoulders down as she laid under him, watching him closely before nodding.  He smiled down at her before standing up and walking around the car, hands raised above his head as in victory.  He knew once Four saw this they would call out to him.

              “Hey Number One!” Four called as expected, walking over the tracks.  One hurried to meet them, not wanting them to actually see that Eight was alive.  “You finally got the bitch!”

              “Yup, finally caught her by surprise, she said no powers like an idiot,” he said, chuckling darkly.  Four nodded and laughed.  “Well I’m going to finish my patrol and head home, but ya know, gotta get rid of the body first.”  Four nodded.

              “Need help?” they asked.  One shook his head.

              “Nah, I got it, just going to shove her under the traincar, no one will find her and if they do animals will do the job first,” he said.  Four nodded, turning and walking away without another word.  Four was easiest to trick and One was glad dad hadn’t sent Two or Six after him.

              Once he was sure Four was gone he headed back to the traincar to find Eight sitting against the wheel, having been listening. He took a seat next to her, close enough that their shoulders were touching, hand gently finding its way over to hers on her leg.  He linked their fingers and sighed.

              “Well, that’ll lighten things up for a bit, dad will think you’re dead for awhile,” he said, looking at her.  She nodded and looked at him.

              “You know we can’t do this forever, one day we have to either tell all the truth or run away,” she said.  “We could go to the 90’s, relive our childhood but ya know as adults.  I’ll be old enough to buy myself Backstreet Boys tickets.”  One laughed and shook his head.

              “Someday, but I can’t leave this behind, I mean we’re fixing history, making sure everything keeps on track,” he said. Eight sighed and rolled her eyes. “I know, you guys think we mess it up, but we don’t, we help, we save people, you guys are the ones who come around messing it up again.”  

              “We honestly don’t know who is fixing what,” she said.  “I just wish I knew what dad was planning for, why he’s doing all this.”  

              “He’ll tell me when I’m ready,” One said indignantly, trying to justify why he was so readily going along with Reginald.  

              “I hope he does, I’m curious which side I’m on,” Eight said.  She looked at him.  “Enough talk, I don’t think we really came here to talk.”  One nodded, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, kissing her until he ran out of air, then taking a breath, and going right back in.

[famouslastwordsinmexico]

Suggested for You

     You think to yourself, I shouldn’t have looked that up online.

     You’re now staring at a bunch of banner ads that frame your email inbox. Each one is attempting to entice you to purchase succulents from flower shops near and far, small and conglomerated. The bright, animated images boast to you about how their store’s succulents will set you on the path to self-care while reconnecting you with nature. You know these ads are suggested to you and tailored specifically for you based on your search history, but, really, you just wanted to know how to spell “succulent”.

     To be fair, you probably shouldn’t be looking up non-work related curiosities while actually at work, but it’s been a slow morning. And yet, right as you excuse yourself for the trivial indiscretion, you’re called into your manager’s office. You lock your computer and worriedly head over to where they wait for you. Upon entering the room you see that there is someone else here for this impromptu meeting. Or, rather, someone has video-called in, their face on your manager’s monitor, which has been turned to meet yours.

    “A representative from HR will be joining us remotely,” your manager informs you. They then sit on the front edge of their desk, not behind it, in a manner you suspect all managers unironically believe comes off as cool and relaxed.

    “Huh. Is something wrong?” You cautiously take your seat, looking between them and the digital HR rep.

    “Oh, no, not at all. It’s just a small request.” They fold their hands in front of them. “That presentation you’re working on for Friday; I wanted to ask if you would give it over to Robert.”

    “Robert? Why? I thought it was supposed to be my project.” You worked hard on that presentation, and even harder on that project. It was something that was going to get you noticed by the higher-ups, a first step towards bigger things.

    “It is. Or, it was. It…” They stop themselves, physically appear to reset, and adopt a concerned face. “We’re simply worried it might be putting too much stress on you.” They lean in. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright with you?”

    “Uh… I’m doing fine?” You’re progressively less certain about what’s happening.

    “You sure? You can be honest with us.” They lean back. “We’ve heard you’ve been depressed.”

    The shock of this gives you mental whiplash.

    “‘Depressed’?” you echo. “Why would you think that?”

    “Well,” they begin, affecting the concerned yet distant tone in which only senior managers are capable of speaking, “it’s come to our attention that you’ve been sharing some pretty troubling sentiments.”

    “I only really talk about work-related stuff with people, honestly.”

    “No, I’m referring to the stuff you share online.”

    Dumbfounded, you blink.

    “You see,” your manager explains, “we recently employed a service that keeps us up to date with our employees.” They seem mildly pleased with themself over their technological ability. They speak to you but look at the HR rep on screen. “Of course, it’s only because we care for the well-being of everyone here in the office. And their software told us that you’ve been feeling quite down lately. They even highlighted some examples; is it not true that you recently posted about how nothing really matters?”

    You don’t recall using those words for anything. As you confusedly shrug, they pull out their phone and hand you it, showing the post in question.

    “Wait, what?” you ask. “Those are song lyrics. To a very popular song! I shared them for a ‘Throwback Thursday’.”

    “Hmm, no,” they say, taking their phone back. “I’m still seeing a cry for help. Like, what about this one: ‘All I want is to sleep and pizza and do nothing and sleep’? That sounds pretty depressed.”

    “That was one of those online things where people let auto-complete write a post for them.”

    “Sure, then how do you explain this post, where you describe how you wish the food truck across the street would ‘run you over’ if you ‘tipped extra’ for your burrito before you got back in from lunch?”

    “That’s a really old post I made when I was at my old job. The one I left for this job! I made that joke to vent. Other people liked it.” Specifically two people: a friend, and the food truck’s company (which you presume auto-likes any mention of their brand).

    Your manager sighs as they shake their head.

    “Come on, now, you don’t have to hide. You can be honest.” They lean in again. “This is sophisticated software; it wouldn’t lie. Its algorithm combed through your life and crunched the numbers. You are depressed. And, if you’re feeling depressed, we want to make sure the company isn’t placing any undue stress on you. Wouldn’t want you turning around and saying we’re unfair, or that we torment you with public speaking, huh?” No one laughs at their non-joke. The HR rep briefly writes something on their notepad. “Right. Well, when we ask you to hand the presentation off to Robert, it’s not just because we want it to turn out well, it’s because we want you to be well, too.”

    “You’re punishing me because of memes?” you ask, unsure of how much incredulity you can show without further risking your job.

    “Oh, no, of course not,” they reply, “we would never!” At this point your manager doesn’t even try to hide that they’re assuring the HR rep more than they’re talking to you. “This company does not punish depression. In fact,” they add, turning back to you, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? We’ll mark it down as a sick day, a day for ‘personal care’, even.” They nod to themself, satisfied. “I’ll mark it down in your time sheet right now.”

    They pull out their phone and begin typing, finished with this meeting. You want to tell them not to do that, since you only have a limited number of sick days, but feel there’d be no use arguing. You stand up, at a loss for words. As you slowly turn to leave you find the HR rep is pointing towards the printer in the room. It prints off something you deduce they sent remotely. It appears to be a pamphlet. The person in the monitor motions for you to pick it up, their face set in the textbook definition of a polite smile. The pamphlet is titled Dealing with Depression.

    Your smartwatch pings as you grab the pamphlet and the screen displays an ad for succulents. You turn the watch off.

    You don’t feel like going home right away. You instead head to a nearby cafe and order the kind of sugary latte you know isn’t worth the high price and higher calorie count, but you could use the comfort. There are no real baristas here, only machines that charge you extra to print a picture of yourself onto the latte foam. You pay the extra amount. You then sign on to the free wifi, checking off the terms and conditions you didn’t read, and take a picture of your cup to share online. Not five minutes of browsing later you get a call from your mom. You plug in your headset and answer.

    “Are you alright?” she asks.

    “Yeah, how do you mean?” You wonder why everyone’s asking you that today.

    “Because you’re not at work!” You realize now that the picture you just posted is location-tagged. “And I know what kind of drinks you like when you’re feeling sad; I’m your mother, after all.” You should’ve never accepted her friend request.

    “No, it’s not that, it’s just… I’m alright. Working from home today, but I figured I’d grab a coffee. That’s all, I promise.”

    You don’t think she believes you but her silence tells you she won’t push if you don’t want to tell her the truth. You instead get a notification on your phone that your mom has sent you a “poke”, a feature that only moms still remember exists. She breaks the silence first.

    “Well, okay then,” she offers, “if you say so. Anyways, there was something else I wanted to ask you about.” Her tone gets conspiratorial for her next question. “Are you and Jamie dating?”

    “What?!” You nearly choke on your latte. “No! Why do you think that?”

    “Your aunts told me,” she answers plainly. “And, apparently, some of their friends told them first. They’re still not used to, you know, those kinds of relationships.” As progressive as your mom can be, her age and upbringing still show from time to time.

    “I don’t even know my aunts’ friends, why would they think I’m dating Jamie?”

    “They saw your picture online.”

    You rub your eye, annoyed.

    “What picture, mom?”

    “Well,” she starts, and if phones still had cords you could imagine your mom twirling hers now, wrapping her finger as she shares the gossip, “you see, one of your aunts’ friends was online and saw you as a suggested friend.” You never understood what algorithms determined those suggestions. “She was curious, so she went in and browsed your page. There it was, a photo of the two of you, looking pretty close and cozy.”

    You check your account on your phone. There’s no way someone randomly looking you up online could’ve seen that photo. Although, how many times did the site tell you they were updating their privacy policy and you opted to skip the details of what that meant?

    “Mom, didn’t you see that picture yourself before? That was just Jamie and me playing around. You know we’re just friends.”

    “Yes, I thought it was nothing. But, those friends of your aunts talk a lot, and they do seem very convinced. I looked at the picture again and it got me thinking.” Her tone gets conspiratorial again. “Are you dating Jamie? I’d have nothing against it. Your father, though…” You block the headset mic to hide your exasperated sigh, and then interrupt before she can finish the thought.

    “We’re not close, mom, not like that. My aunts and their friends are making up stories.” You wonder how scrutinized any future pictures you post will be. Maybe you should restrict how much of your profile your mom can access. You’ll have to figure out the new privacy settings first.

    “Yes, fine, you’re right. I’m simply saying they sounded convinced, is all.” You can almost picture her busying herself with some chores at home to prove that she’s over it. And yet she adds, “I will say, though, that if you were with Jamie, I’d be very supportive. Jamie’s lovely, and would be lucky to have you.”

    You hide another exasperated sigh and change the topic. When she’s had her fill of catching up, your mom says goodbye and you hang up.

    You sit in the cafe, your mouth contorted in contemplation save for when you sip from your cup. You thought you were good at keeping your personal and online lives separate, but thanks to dubious algorithms and out-of-touch inquirers, your agency at work has been diminished and your sexuality is being questioned by people who’d be less than understanding. Even if you restrict who gets access to your information, what little slips through the cracks is still interpreted without context. Is that what the internet is now? For people to be data-mined so other people can make assumptions? Who wanted it that way?

    Your phone sets off with another notification, informing you that a local indoor plant store has followed you online. They specialize in succulents.

    You almost laugh out loud at the insanity of it. Of course; this hunt for data is mostly the hunt for ad revenue. While it’s a marvel how fervently someone on the other side of the screen wants to believe they understand you, advertisers are the ones who set the system up. And even they can’t seem to get it right!

    The fever of frustration breaks, giving way to a fever of defiance. Why leave room to be misinterpreted? You decide to live your online life unabashedly and unafraid to share all. Will someone be tracking your moves? You don’t care, but if they are you hope they can keep up.

    You grab your phone and browse with fury and determination. You share news articles and let your political leanings lay bare as you never had before. You hit “publish” on every dumb joke and inane thought you had previously hid shamefully as drafts. You post all of the pictures in your phone, and when you’re done with those you take a couple more. You follow musicians, actors, and influencers alike, so that no one would have to guess what your tastes are. You join in as many forum conversations as you can, and only stop when a person you’re arguing with, who has an anime-girl profile picture, threatens to dox you. You log off.

    When you finally get home you’re bleary eyed from unblinking browsing and shaky from the excess of caffeine. You want nothing more than to decompress. As you turn on your TV to search for something to stream and zone out to, you call out to your virtual assistant device and say, “Play something soothing.”

    Though your command was vague, as the speakers turn on they start playing exactly what you only now realize you had in mind. You love this band, even if you hadn’t thought of them in a while. Your phone goes off with a notification that this band has a concert coming up soon. As if on instinct triggered by serendipity, you click the notification to buy tickets.

    While browsing various streaming services on your TV you come across several documentaries that you’ve heard confirm a lot of opinions you’ve had on the state of things. While you’d love to be proven correct, you’re more in the mood for something light. You wonder if they have this one funny movie that’s a reboot of a movie that’s based on a book. Before you can remember the title you see it listed. You hit play.

    Ultimately, modern movie watching entails being on your phone, so you scroll through whatever new content was uploaded on your commute home. While you idly browse, you find another tailored ad, this time for a t-shirt boldly claiming that people born the same month as you are kind yet shouldn’t be messed with, each line in a different garish font.

    “Ha,” you laugh to yourself, “what a stupid ad.” Even after all the data you gave them, advertisers are no better than your manager or your aunts, thinking they know you and what’s best for you.

    Suddenly the page you’re on refreshes. What loads first is the ad, this time for a different shirt that’s admittedly more your style. The tagline reads, “Your life, your look.” Unsettled by the coincidence and feeling like you’ve found yourself in a conversation with your phone you didn’t know you were having, you try to click on a different link. More content loads just at that moment, though, shifting the layout of the page and leading you to click on the ad instead. Surprised, you fumble with your phone to close what’s popped up, but as your panicked fingers slip your phone decides you mean to go through with the order. You adjust your hold on your phone but somehow manage to set off a biometric scan that confirms the purchase.

    As if queued by your consumerist momentum, an ad interrupts the movie you’re watching (since when did this streaming service have ads?). The volume seems to increase on its own as the TV blares at you.

    “You don’t necessarily feel you age, so why look your age? Our skin cream can miraculously take 5 years off your face, letting your inner youth shine through.” The ad shows a model before and after using the cream. It makes a specific point of telling you the model’s age, which is your age.

    You search frantically for the remote to turn the volume down. No matter what angle you point the remote at it, the TV refuses to recognize your button pushing. You get up and simply turn off the TV manually. This gives your virtual assistant device space to chime in with a separate ad.

    “Tired of the long commute to your workplace? Find more free time while moving into one of the fastest growing neighbourhoods that’s perfect for you.” The voice emanating from your speakers describes listings in a building that you recognize is half a block away from your office. You run to unplug the device.

    One by one more “smart” appliances in your home, devices that you now question their need for internet connectivity, begin to play or display ads that were made to appeal to you exactly.

    “Our energy efficient windows fit your green lifestyle!” your thermostat boasts, citing a climate change article you just read.

    “Let us deliver the groceries you need for the recipes you love!” your fridge demands, listing off your actual favourite recipes.

    “Bzzt!” vibrates your electric toothbrush, calling you to look at its charger’s digital screen and see an ad for a dental clinic, featuring a close up of a mouth you’re weirdly certain is actually yours.

    As your apartment comes alive with the sounds of aggressive advertising, you’re terrified. You step out onto the balcony. You think to yourself, and only to yourself, that you need to get away.

    A delivery drone floats up from under your balcony and stops right at your eye level. It’s been outfitted with a display monitor. It plays a video.

    “Looking for a vacation?” it asks. “Why not fly out to Pasadena, California? You can visit the Cactus & Succulent Society of America’s annual show and sale!”

[imagine-loki]

Atlas: Space, Mercury

TITLE: Atlas: Space

CHAPTER NO./ONE-SHOT: 2/12

AUTHOR: fanfictrashdump

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine narrating episodes of Loki’s life with the Avengers based on the songs from Sleeping At Last’s “Atlas: Space” album. 

RATING: T-M

NOTES/WARNINGS: Welcome to my Sleeping At Last’s Atlas: Space challenge, aka Another writing project I do not have time for, but my brain insisted on doing.

This series will be less like a multichapter fic and more of a one-shot compendium, but that they all interconnect in one way or another. It will revolve around Loki and Becca’s relationship (Taking Turns, Glow, Helmet Heists–don’t worry, more Loki-Charlie stuff will be along) and I will use those one-shots as reference to the timeline. Each chapter will be one song, used as inspiration for the story.

Warnings include: language, maybe, and morally grey debates about killing bad guys, angst (so much angst), and a thoroughly confused Loki.

Chapter 2: Mercury

Summary: Becca did not expect to feel this way after her first official mission. Loki did not expect to care how she felt, one way or another. Takes place after Helmet Heists.

=

“Heya, Lokes. How’s it going?”

Loki looked up, brow furrowed in a calculating expression. Tony Stark was not one to casually strike up a conversation with him unless it was of the utmost importance and he had no other choice. Therefore, the almost cheery way he had plopped himself down beside him on the couch was a matter of extreme curiousness.

Loki was having none of it.

“What is this?”

“I only asked how you were?” Tony sounded unsure, put looked all around innocent until he let out a long puff of air that made his cheeks inflate. “OK, I wanted to ask you how Becks was.”

Loki rolled his eyes and turned the page on his book, his attention now on the tight script before him. “I daresay she’s your employee, Stark, not mine. Why would I know?”

“Maybe because she’s the only person you talk to, and you’d be able to tell if she were OK. And the fact that you’ve been sticking to her like glue since we got back from the Hellhole. I don’t know, it gives me the inkling that you do, indeed, know.”

Stark wasn’t wrong.

Rebecca was the only human that Loki seemed to find bearable most of the time. She wasn’t loud or brash or mindless. Her taste in literature wasn’t half bad, either.

But she was human. And mortal. And beneath him.

For the longest time, he had tried not to get too attached, but this last mission certainly became a turning point in their relationship. It wasn’t bad, per se. They understood each other’s body language in a way that only two introverts could, and they worked together well as a team, but… she was so soft and innocent and everything he was most certainly not. Loki tended to scoff and ridicule humans such as this, not attempt to ensure their safety and their ongoing wellbeing, even after the fact.

Those eyes, though…

“Lokes?” Apparently Loki had been silent for much longer than was considered normal. He tended to do that a lot, as of late, always in relation to that dreary mortal.

Loki shifted uncomfortably at the memory of Becca’s eyes on the jet ride back. “I would say she takes issue with the moral ambiguity of killing an enemy. Regardless of whether or not they deserved it.”

Rows of houses Sound asleep Only streetlights Notice me

He nearly wanted to laugh at himself. Taking issue was probably the understatement of the year.

More than once, while he was doing his nightly walks, he would find Becca on the roof, staring at the world below–at the forests, the darkness, at the nothingness. She would stand, shivering in the night air, as she tried to make out shapes in the inky black abyss. It would take him two or three mentions of her name to rouse her from contemplative stupor. And, even then, Loki could tell she was not all there.

She always smiled, pushing through the oppressive chaos in her head and ask him about his day. As if she had not been fixing to fall apart a second before.

Damn her and her empathy.

I am desperate If nothing else In a holding pattern To find myself

I talk in circles I talk in circles I watch for signals For a clue

More than once he had swallowed whatever irritation would bubble to the surface in an effort to get her talking. Instead of his usually acidic demands for her to get on with it, he simply nodded in what he hoped was an encouraging manner and waited for her to spill her thoughts, as repetitive as they were. Not that he could blame her.

He remembered the first time he had killed something. He was seven. It had been a rabbit while on a hunt. He cried for three days, afterwards, until an Einherjar had scoffed and told him that was how life worked and he needed to accept it. Loki hadn’t cried when that particular soldier did not come home from a siege in Vanaheim a hundred years later. Nor for the hundreds that had been lost in battles, since. What was the point? Creatures lived and died, sometimes by his blade. That was life.

How to feel different How to feel new Like science fiction Bending truth

“Why do you keep asking that, Loki?” She had whined, pulling the edges of his cloak, which he had laid over her bare shoulders to shield her against the wind. He had asked if she was doing alright. “You know I’m physically fine. You made sure of that.”

He had not meant to inquire after her physical well-being, and Becca very well knew that. She also knew that he would die a fiery death before insisting “but, how do you feel?” Loki had made an annoyed noise and stormed off with the intention to hide in his room. He had doubled back, halfway there, only to watch her wipe away tears from the corners of her eyes when she thought herself alone. He still went back to his room, but he felt like a rock was lodged in his stomach all the way there.

“Could you do me a favor and keep an eye on her? She’s been really jumpy and anxious at work, but she keeps telling me she’s fine.” Tony sighed. “I just worry about her, man.”

Loki offered a sympathetic look, despite his initial reaction to sneer back at the Iron Man. Breaking old habits was hard. “I know. I will.”

No one can unring this bell Unsound this alarm, unbreak my heart new God knows I am dissonance Waiting to be swiftly pulled into tune

The Asgardian prince had found his friend in a hidden corner of the library. It looked like she had started to read one of the many tomes on Asgardian technology he had lent her, before her mind betrayed her. Becca was staring straight in front of her, brown eyes empty of any emotion yet full of doubts and insecurities.

“Rebecca.” His whisper clapped like thunder in the eerie silence of the library.

She snapped out of her trance and offered him a smile. “Sorry, did you say something, Lo?”

Gods above, help me.

Loki sighed, pulling a chair beside her and sinking down. Even seated, he was still significantly taller than her, but she found that she felt a little less nervous when he tried to get on her level. It was a kindness, she knew, but the concern buried deep in his gaze did little to make her feel better. If anything, she felt worse. If she had stayed in the jet, if she had followed directions, who would she be today? Could she be able to sleep? Could she stop waking up in cold sweats at all hours of the morning?

“Dearest, talk to me.” The use of pet names were few and far between with Loki. He much preferred calling anyone “hey, you” or “imbecile come here”. So the use of a term of endearment…

Did she really look in that dire a state?

“Tony sent you, huh?” Becca thought she might as well deflect until he felt uncomfortable. That usually worked.

“No, I sent myself,” he assured, frowning. The expression he received in exchange screamed you’ve gotta be kidding me. “Though Tony expressed interest in also knowing how you were,” he admitted and Becca rolled her eyes. Swallowing whatever shard of emotion that was attempting to convince him to let the whole thing go, he craned his neck until his gaze  could easily fix on hers. “You cannot go on like this, you know it. You cannot keep replaying scenarios in hopes of finding a loophole to villainize yourself with.”

I know the further I go The harder I try, only keeps my eyes closed And somehow I’ve fallen in love With this middle ground at the cost of my soul

Becca groaned, the sincerity in his voice making the pit in her stomach grow larger. The edges of her perfectly crafted calmness began to fray and she was sure that the god could easily feel it unraveling under his stare. “It can’t be this simple, Loki.” She couldn’t live her life without feeling guilty, she meant. Surely, she had to spend the rest of eternity purging herself of these demons before she could allow herself even a morsel of comfort. If not, was she not just a monster? 

Loki chuckled drily, placing a hand on her shoulder and its weight felt like a welcome balm to her shot nerves. “Who said anything about simple? You took lives. Nothing about that is simple. Believe me, I understand. But, on rare occasions, the ends do justify the means.”

Her head fell, hanging between her shoulders in a sign of defeat she should have never had to deal with. Stark shouldn’t have asked her to come on the mission, but she saved ten of the two dozen from dying in battle due to faults in their equipment. She saved him from what she thought was certain death (and might have been). Her heart was too good for this dark, sludgy world of his, he knew.

He wanted to hate it, to scoff at her naivety, at her hopefulness for the rotting lump that was her world. He couldn’t. He craved it, instead, and wondered how he had ever lived his thousand plus years without that little beacon of hope.

His chest hurt. Loki supposed that was the place his heart was meant to be, and the phantom organ had clenched at her tears, once she had managed to face him again.

She sniffed. “I don’t know if I can live with that.”

Yet I know, if I stepped aside Released the controls you would open my eyes That somehow, all of this mess Is just my attempt to know the worth of my life In precious metals

“I can,” he said simply. The surety of his voice and the clear lack of remorse made her something inside her feel warm like lava, rather than a fireplace’s hearth. She shuddered at his set expression and the glimmer of bloodlust in his stare. “I would have killed a hundredfold more, if it meant bringing you back safe. I will never live to regret that.” Loki was surprised to find that none of these words were a lie. He didn’t want her dead. He wanted her to thrive. He wanted her not to feel this gnawing emptiness that followed the taking of life. “You are my friend and you’re worth many more than that.”

“I don’t think that’s true, but thanks, anyway,” she muttered.

“Would I lie to you?” Never in his life had he wished for someone to ignore his nature and reply in the negative, than he did right now.

Becca’s mouth twisted in a reluctant smile. “Absolutely.” His heart clenched again, and this time there was no doubt about it. “But I don’t think you are.”

A long stretch of silence encompassed them.

“I want to return.”

“Return?” He frowned.

“To the field.” She sighed, pulling her shoulders back and sitting up straight. He had seen that pose before, when she was resolute to solve an issue or dissect a conundrum. He saw it when she had run from the jet and skidded to a stop beside him. “The reason I’ve been feeling so miserable is that fact that I feel awful about what I’ve done, but I can’t ever leave you guys out there alone, again. Not after what I’ve seen. And I’ve never felt this conflicted.”

“It’s what we signed up for, dove,” he assured, tucking a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear with incredible gentleness. “You needn’t worry about us. We’ll be perfectly fine as long as you’re there to greet us back.”

“That’s like telling me I don’t have to worry about the sky suddenly turning green. I’m going to do it, anyway.” Becca wasn’t sure why, but she followed up his silent question. “I’m going to get my training certifications back up-to-date, log in some time on local raids, and I’m joining missions.”

“Darling, you don't–”

“I’m going back! That’s final!” Becca snapped so loudly that Loki jumped, startled, and leaned back ever so slightly.

He blinked a few times to live down his surprise and offered her a nod. “Then, I will dutifully follow.” He smirked, nudging her side playfully. “Someone has to keep you alive.” Lest I attempt to destroy this pathetic planet, once more. 

He hated that this was his first thought, but he knew he would follow her to Helheim and back to see her through. He needed to protect that light, that shine, that glow. 

I’ll go anywhere you want me

[amazingorangedangantrash]

The only ending everyone seems to ignore is v3 because it’s just... it’s just a mess.

How do feel about this game survivors? And do you think that everyone woke up from the simulator or tv show like sdr2 or only the survivors?

Hoo boy...

Honestly nonny, having only finished the dang thing yesterday I... don't know.

(I kinda went off into a spiel, so feel free to skip to the part where I talk about survivors and what I think happens next)

I understand the mixed response a LOT. I mean- I see what they were going for. The 4th wall break was cool, and the (sorta?) reappearance of past characters was pretty damn awesome. I like that the creators are definitely self aware- and there's a kind of 'learn to laugh at yourself' sort of thing.

On the other hand it can almost seem a little too mocking?

I get the whole yaknow. 'Fictional characters are aware they're fictional and rebel against their creators' thing but- like-?

As I mentioned before, thing is, Tsumugi is not us? We aren't exactly intentionally cruel? There's a BIG difference between the kind of fiction in our world and in their world.

What does Tsumugi call it? "Real fiction"?. Yeah- thing is- we don't have that. We don't have the technology for it, and I certainly hope we wouldn't abandon ethics for it either!!! We can't have 'real' fiction, because in our world, all fiction is fake! The closest you have is fiction about real people, perhaps, but- that's not even remotely the same thing?

So it does come across as a little... um- preachy.

We're supposed to represent the audience but... like- the audience fucking suck! What was that they said during the argument armament? "This guy should have died instead of Kaede!" Like- fucking hell. Imagine saying that to someone, who can HEAR you say it, and who's MURDER you could potentially watch unfold before your very eyes as a result of YOUR actions. I mean- look how empathetic some of us are to ACTUAL fictional characters. Could you imagine if we were in a similar situation to the outside world in V3???

Maybe it's because I keep imagining the v3 cast as like- sentient AI, instead of "just fiction". Because I can't imagine anyone being so sadistic or apathetic otherwise.

So uh- yeah. I don't... know how I feel about that. It's not- very satisfying?

With sdr2, the whole "none of this is real, the killing game is all a lie, you're in a fake world!" felt like a relief ! Whereas here it's more like- "what?? It's all fake? What the hell was the point then?!"

"Nothing matters!" vs "nothing matters..."

The whole HOPE VS DESPAIR, FUTURE VS PAST thing worked, because, well, it's something we can all understand. We have all felt hope and we have all felt despair. We've all, at some point in our lives, felt stuck in the past, unable to or scared to move on.

(Hey- some of us still feel like that now, even).

The first game was very simple- hope and despair. Still relatable, but fairly basic- effective to set up the foundation for the follow up.

The second game made things a little more complicated. Sometimes it's more complicated then just- choosing between Hope and Despair. We refuse to fall into Despair, but we can't just blindly have Hope.

So we choose the Future. We can't promise it'll be a good one OR a bad one. But whatever happens- we need to move on. The only way we can make things change is by making that choice, to create our OWN future.

V3 felt very... complex. It started to get kind of... uh... philosophical? And- don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with that. It just... it kind of shifted from TRUTH VS LIE to FICTION VS REALITY. And whilst the latter definitely sounds interesting- I don't really know if I liked the direction they took with it-? I wish they'd kept the focus on TRUTH VS LIE a lot more.

(Fiction and Reality are like extensions of Lie and Truth but- only to a certain extent? Really?)

It's kind of harder to get into the final fight in V3 because... what are you fighting? The outside world? I mean- I can't speak for the rest of you, but as far as I'm aware I'm not a fictional character.

(If I am- then wow someone's a reallly bad writer huh?)

I can relate to Hope. I can relate to Future.

I can't relate to Fiction.

I THOUGHT maybe the message was a warning of the dangers of escapism ('please dont go as far as to erase your own personality just to be a part of a type of fiction you like' definitely seems fitting for this fandom)- but the message "fiction has the power to change the world!" kinda contradicts that. I mean- I do like that message, but- I don't like the idea of a series about killing games being heavily influential-!

The whole problem was that people grew so obsessed with the series that they threw away their lives! Is that not the point you should be focusing on-!!!!

The outside world in this universe fucking sucks. So they changed their mind, big DEAL! that's not comforting knowing they let this shit continue for 53 seasons-! I mean, maybe Makoto and Hajime were all 100% fictional, but at some point they started putting real people into these games, and everyone was ok with that!

I just-

I'm glad Shuichi got through to them at last but...

Someone said something which resonated with me- "in a vacuum, this is good". Like... on it's own, I thought the ending was great! It was entertaining, for sure. And the whole concept and stuff was unexpected and interesting. You gotta give em points for originality.

The problem comes with it being the 3rd game in a series. (Ignoring UDG I mean-). When a series becomes a Trilogy, you gotta make it good. This is presumably the last game in the (main) series too. And- after the UTTER NARRATIVE DISAPPOINTMENT of dr3- can you blame people for wanting more? People fell in love for THH and SDR2 (and UDG even if its not part of the main series) for a reason- and, for me at least, a biiiig part of that reason was the continued storyline. The last chapter of sdr2 was the hypest shit EVER. when you see glimpses of the previous game bleed into this one, only for it to turn into what's like- a full crossover???? The previous game isn't just mentioned, it's a straight up sequel!!!! I had absolutely no idea Makoto and co would return (i thought the games were separate) so when i saw that they'd be interacting with the new cast- yoooooooooooooooo-!

Hell, even seeing alter ego again made me go WILD.

V3 plays upon these expectations, and subverts them, but... not necessarily in a good way? You- kind of feel cheated? (Idk if you're an avengers fan, but- it's like expecting *Endgame* and instead getting...

Well- Endgame).

The ending isn't bad persay it's just- not quite what one would expect? I can definitely understand why people are disappointed. The problem is, instead of standing alone, you can't help but consider it as part of the series. Individually, I don't think the ending was that weak or bad, but in comparison to the series as a whole?

Meh.

SURVIVORS

(Oh my- I really got off track, oh dear. I'll- get back to what you asked now.)

KEEBO

W H Y

They rllly gonna rub salt in the wound huh?

(Whilst i dont dislike the other survivors, there are a LOT of people i really really wanted to see make it to the end, and it's just the final god damn nail in the coffin to kill off the last of the few characters I came even close to liking the most-)

Killing keebo was dumb

Maki- I liked Maki quite a bit! She's a bit cold, yeah, but I warmed up to her after hearing her backstory.

I found it annoying (if understandable) that no one trusted her at first. I thought it was sweet that her, Kaito and Shuichi had this friendship trio. They really trusted each other- it was very refreshing. I also love me a strong girl. Her romance thing with Kaito was a little... forced. I'd have found it more meaningful if they kept it more subtle/ambiguous (though i suppose they needed smth to use against her in the final trial sooo-).

Himiko-

I-

*sigh*

Ok I'm going to say this once, and once only.

Someoneonthedrteamhasabigthingforlolis

OK! I SAID IT- AND IM NEVER SAYING IT AGAIN

No judgement here of course. Just. Uh. Y-yeah-

(I'm mainly kidding of course, idek if Himiko counts as a loli but-)

I mean... I'm not... the fondest of very small, childish girl characters (Saionji intensifies). I like a bit of childishness in a character but- i mean- it depends.

(I'll never recover from the "seductive whisper" thing from the love suite event

Never.

Never ever.)

Himiko comes across as like An Actual Child at times and at the start it was VERY annoying. Surprisingly, I warmed up to her eventually. I knew in advance she'd be a survivor so i kinda thought "well she's gonna stick around so might as well try to like her". I do appreciate that she underwent a character arc too, and it was sweet to see how she became a more active, determined person. I wish it hadn't taken Tenko's death for her to finally start changing but whatever. She is quite a cute character and after a while became more endearing then annoying.... (for the most part).

Was she in my top 3 picks for a survivor? No.

The top 10 even?

N-no-

I'm glad she's still alive though. SOMEONE damn well needs to be.

Tsumugi- ah. She's not a survivor, is she? I knew well in advance she was the mastermind so I didn't really warm up to her all that much during the final chapters, for obvious reasons.

Shuichi- if shuichi hadn't survived I think that would have been the breaking point for me, honestly.

Overall- uh... they aren't... the ideal picks. Shuichi is the only one I really wanted to see survive, I was neutral towards the others. Tbh I was just happy anyone was alive by the end of that.

Waking up- for the sake of my sanity, I like to think that after the survivors wake up, they threaten to sue and/or maim the shit out of the dr team if they don't start on reanimating their 'dead' friends right fucking now. Surely they gotta keep their consciousness' somewhere in those memories banks right? I mean- what if they ever wanted a "surprise return from the dead" plotline? Surely they gotta keep em somewhere? Right?

Whether or not they reawaken as their in-game or pre-game selves, who knows. Whichever you prefer, I guess. Maybe a mixture of both.

[badbitchwhomeditates]

Who the fuck is this bitch?!

Read that again. 

The answer is complex, not simple, which is what complex means you dumb fuck ( beep language kiddo). Ok, lets try that again...

Bad Bitch Who Meditates, a 23 year old singer with dreams bigger than the world itself, which is both a good and a bad thing, we will get to the importance of duality later. Either way she´s been struck by lightning and pushed into a corner loads of times in an industry where you have to fight to be heard and seen through the smallest of cracks. And yes I might also speak about myself in third person a lot, simply because I'm practicing being the main character from all perspectives, telling my story but also making everyday feel like an adventurous movie ( therefore the narrator vibes help).

Complaining, complaning, victim mindset bla bla bla you might think, im not gonna bore you, you know that things can be quite shit and you’ve probably heard about the `struggling artist” and all of that before. 

 Lets spread some more negativity shall we ey? 

Maybe not that either, im just welcoming you in to my brain and my stream of consciousness on the journey of becoming or remaining? we shall see.

Im not gonna be here being all fairy lights and glitter in my eyes either, I am tho some days, but lately I’ve been bad, not a bitch cause I would never, slightly a bitch towards myself and I haven’t really done my meditation, its like the second I put down ” bad bitch who meditates, thats my slogan” in a song, I was like, cool its in a tune now so I’ve done the work I can relax. 

Nope, it doesn’t stop. 

Consistency in self care, healthy habits and your mental diet, the way you speak to yourself, it doesn’t stop. And its fkn annoying sometimes, especially when your chemical imbalance is so imbalanced that you don’t wanna get out of bed. Ive probably dealed with anxiety and depression since my debut on X-factor, oh yeah shit sorry, I have a name too, Im Awa and I won X-factor Sweden at 15 years old, completely changed my life like a marriage, for better or for worse. In that marriage I found myself, lost myself and now im kind of finding myself again...

Ok this is the part below where you get to knoooow me or something...

 I guess why I wanted to start blogging again is A) I need to hold myself accountable to remain consistent with my glow up, cause I can proudly say I’ve really done some amazing progress and inner work B) I need to continue doing that and find my healthy balance and not put too much pressure on myself, ya get me? C) maybe help take away the stigma regarding mental health, and I wanna focus on the solutions, thats my whole new life concept 10 % problems, 90 % solutions, like if we are discussing something thats the ratio. Cause how can we ever see a solution if we go slow dancing w the problem for ages? 

 I know it can feel fkn amazing and cozy, like when you’ve been in bed w someone thats clearly not good for your heartstrings but you stay there anyway because for right now it feels all warm and fuzzy. 

Oh silly girl, I mean forgiveness, forgiving other people and forgiving myself that is def something we are going to have to discuss as well, its one of the things I’ve tried to commit to this year. Ive come to the conclusion that its harder forgiving yourself after being too nice, theres only so much space on the scale for resentment, but you go to bed with you all the time and you beat yourself up on why you allowed that to happen? (Did that make any sense??) 

Again, another lesson, feedback that we can grow from. Mind management, one of my fav terms, mind over matter. Damn sure that can feel extremely provocative said in the wrong situation. Im gonna be honest on here, ill make an oath or whatever its called ( oh yeah im also Swedish so we will have communication problems here and there, but whatever, I call that acceptance) ill be honest, personal but not private cause I need to protect my energy. 

I would declare myself a self care queen but babe writing this, I just had a massive argument w my friend, that made me sad ( oh im a cry baby too, thats even the title of my EP lol), I hate conflict but im really trying so hard to stand up for myself and understand that my feelings are valid too and that uncomfortable situations are growing pains for our souls. I had my first panic attack in ages because this year is just shit and things that I’ve worked on for so long just crumbled down in front of me and I just felt like I was again taking two steps forward and one step back but at least we are moving. 

Im not all sad, I’ve rightfully so have had a few bad 72 hours I would say, I don’t like this time of the year that much.  But I know why, because I've been slacking w my routines, the ones we´ve carefully selected through trial and error inna real life and w my therapist ( she's real too but you get what im sayin) , it's ok not to be ok either but we have to put some kind of time limit on it so we don't sink into that deep hole again, i don't wanna go back there and I know what keeps me with my head above water and sometimes even frkn flying. We wanna stay consistent w the flying, that feels good, that's a goal now ok? Cause I used to fall into that trap of the deep hole until the pain of the known got far greater than the fear of the unknown. 

Im happy we are here today, because as I said 10/90, nothing last forever, good or bad, which is comforting. Things will get better and we hold so much more power in our minds and souls than we realize that ultimately will mirror how we experience life. So im going to be on here, at least once a week, my therapist tells me not to set up crazy goals that I know I might not do because then it will make me feel shit etc so once a week feels reasonable.

 Im open to suggestions about what we can chat about, ill share my 10/90, I want my clever friends to maybe drop a quote or blog here and there, Im good on camera, like vlogs or some shit. I probably wont bring you around all the time cause I don’t have the technological brain cells for that to be very honest with you. Maybe ill just come up with cute formats to the camera, thats a word you are going to hear a lot, ”format”, I have a concierge business w my friend Amy on the side of my music career called ” Pure Intuition”, basically we create events, formats and campaigns for brands and make them come true with the right profile etc and we create FORMATS, but if you missed it or if I was unclear Im a super cool singer signed to Columbia UK which was my childhood dream, so we are going to make Columbia our BITCH in 2021 hihi <3 <3. I studied economic entrepreneurship in college and im very business savvy, I love creating formats lol. Im slowly but surely building my fempire. What else, boys, I like boys, men, cute ” god spent some extra time on you”- looking boys, I mean men. I guess we will touch on that in the most anonymous manner, maybe ill just share some past flings cause you know, they’re in the past, passé. So yeah who the fuck is this bitch? you will find out alongside me, myself and I

get ready for the ride

love and light,

badbitchwhomeditates 

[loftyexecutor]

like looking into a mirror

WC: 1380

Rating: T

Characters: Error, Template, Blueberror

Summary; error meets up with blue, who is in the antivoid, where he shouldnt be. and hes not the same as he should be.

part 2 of Multiverse #379

AO3 mirror | Ko-fi

“Template?”

BB stepped through his portal, looking around what the glitch liked to call an ‘abode’. Though he supposed it was one for him, as well. He was in more than out, most of the time. He couldn’t find him in the large white space, no matter how hard he looked.

“Template!” he called again, much to the same outcome. 

Maybe he was outside, playing a game of cat-and-mouse with Pale again? It didn’t feel like the Anti-void was empty, though. Sure, there was nothing to be seen for miles, but it was big. He knew firsthand just how far it stretched.

The air was filled with faint, static-y sounds, like an annoying buzz of an insect. BB cocked his head to the side, straining his ear canals for the direction where they were coming from. Once pinpointed, he started his journey of shotcutting through the white space, using the sounds as a guide.

Nothing came up for long minutes, just more white. The sounds were, however, getting louder and, admittedly, more annoying. Clearer, too. They started to resemble something he’d expect of a dial-up router trying its best to crawl its way back from the brink of a technological meltdown.

And then he was standing by a figure crumpled on the ground.

“Template?” he called out. His only response was a garbled, high-pitched noise, but his guess wasn’t surprising. The figure on the ground, from what he could see, was black! There was a blue scarf spilled on the ground, but the rest was obscured by a sea of glitches.

“Buddy, what’s wrong?” He dropped down into a squat and rolled the figure over.

Where he’d expected Template’s glasses covering his eyes was instead half a dozen of blue magic lines, the black hoodie not tied around the waist but instead worn properly. The sleeves seemed stitched on (more than once, from the frayed edges) and, honestly? It looked more like a coat than a hoodie.

“You’re not Template, are you?” he asked, knowing well that he wouldn’t get a response. The skeleton was glitching badly, sockets wide and unseeing. There was a puddle of half-dried blue marrow underneath them, and when touched, it flashed with white, glitched error messages. There was also a bar above the skeleton’s head, slowly climbing its way to the right, proudly displaying the message, ‘Rebooting: 84% complete.’

BB sat back and waited. The sounds coming from the other ranged in intensity as he did, at one point dying down to almost nothing only to come back, more warped than before. Idly, he wondered if he ever sounded like that. Template did, sometimes, but only when he was badly hurt.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but he didn’t really want to leave the other alone. He’d never seen anyone like this, so maybe they were new? The Anti-void could be scary if you didn’t know where you were, or couldn’t get out on your own.

The progress bar climbed its way to 100% and faded away, along with the worst of the dial-up noises. The skeleton stirred, raising a head to their head, which was still glitching. A couple error messages refused to leave their body.

BB sat up straight, eyelights sparkling. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve ever met before?”

“Ugh,” the skeleton groaned, blinking a couple times before their head turned to BB and they squinted at him. “What the fuck happened…? Blue?”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me? That’s great! Where are you from? What AU? I haven’t seen a new glitch in so long!”

“...huh?” The glitched surrounding the other became a swarm of angry bees for a second, and then the other squinted even harder, looking BB up and down. The red sockets went wide. “What the—”

The skeleton jumped up to their feet, backing away from BB like they’d been scorched. 

“Blue?! What the fuck happened to you?! I— no, that’s impossible! I haven’t left you in the Anti-void that long! How—?”

“Oh! Um…” BB stood up as well, watching with no small amount of concern as the other started pacing back and forth, muttering to themself. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about? I’m Blueberror! But you can call me BB… haha, everyone does.”

The other skeleton’s eyelights — so similar to BB’s own, wow! — snapped to him, switching between squinting at him and widening in disbelief, like they couldn’t believe what they were looking at. Sure, BB knew he was nothing to write home about, but he’d gotten used to his new form! It wasn’t that bad!

“Bl— BB,” the skeleton stated, like they were trying how the name rolled off their metaphorical tongue. Their panic seemed to be gone, and their face set into a tense frown.

BB watched, confused, as they reached up to their face and… ripped the blue magic off their skull? He didn’t have the time to react before it turned into long, thin strings between the other’s fingers, and then he was wrapped up in them, arms pinned to his sides and his ankles bound together, which sent him to the ground in a messy tangle.

“Oof,” he exhaled, doing his best to wiggle out of the restraints. “What’re you doing?”

“Who are you?” the stranger asked, circling their fingers so the strings tying BB tightened to the point of being painful. Their voice was deep and filled with so much static they sounded like Template that one time BB had caught him unaware in a hug and got an earful that taught him nothing because he did not have ears.

“I told you! I’m Blueberror!”

“That’s impossible!” The strings tightened again and BB’s body glitched, flickering in and out for a moment, but that was enough for him to phase through them and catch his breath. 

“Oh gosh,” he muttered, rubbing at where the string had dug into his humerus. “That wasn’t very nice of you.”

“Tell me the fucking truth, shrimp! How did you glitch out?! There’s no way— we were just fighting! You couldn’t’ve been here that long!”

“Fighting? Haha, I haven’t even met you until now! I’m not sure what… maybe you’re confused?”

And that was exactly the time Template decided to make his appearance, stumbling through a glitched-out portal, trailing black ink. He was covered almost head to toe. BB took one look at him and burst out laughing.

Template shot him a look that would’ve been a deadpan, if he wasn’t pouting. “It was a tie! I swear!” he cried, but then he seemed to realize BB wasn’t the only one around to see him.

The new skeleton was standing deathly still, staring at Template as if he’d grown not one, but two extra heads, and then decided to shop them off.

“Who’s your new friend, BB? I’ve never seen them, are they from a new AU? Ooh, hiya, I’m Template, the mighty protector of all AUs and the whole multiverse!” He struck a pose, jabbing his pen into the ground in a way that had BB stifling a laugh again.

The new skeleton didn’t say a word. The buzzing intensified again, though nowhere near as loud as it had been when they were… rebooting, maybe? That was what the message said.

“Uh…” Template’s arms dropped to his sides when he didn’t receive any reaction to his introduction. “Who are you...?” They looked eerily similar to him; it was like looking into a mirror, except the mirror came from a mirror house at a carnival.

The skeleton seemed to share the sentiment. “Error,” he said finally. “I’m Error.”

“Great to meet you! Oh, just wait until Pale finds out we have one more of us!”

Template bounded forward and wrapped Error into a hug, his pen squishing into their sides. Error let out a cut-off cry, pushing against him before the glitches all around him flared up, coating his whole body.

The dial-up noises were back, and he fell limp against Template. Who, graciously looking a little sheepish, lowered him onto the ground.

The progress bar was back above Error’s head, but this time it seemed to be going significantly faster, already at 23%.

“Haha, oops?” Template chuckled, looking at BB. BB just shook his head.

“Great introduction. Couldn’t have gone better.”

[spookyflowerbouquet]

Email Marketing Myths You Should Ignore

Sales & Marketing 〉 Marketing Marketing Myths You Should Ignore. Debra Murphy July 20, 2013. Email marketing can enhance your relationship with your subscribers and drive your revenue. Email; Entrepreneurship. 3 Marketing Myths About LinkedIn You Should Ignore. Those false ideas and take advantage of the benefits LinkedIn marketing offers: Myth No.

Email Marketing Myths You Should Ignore Someone

Email Marketing Myths You Should Ignore Others

Direct Mail Myths You Should Ignore

April 07 2016

Most direct mail marketers stick to the same bag of tricks that have been working for decades. While there has been plenty of valuable wisdom, experience, and strategies passed down from one generation of marketers to the next, there also have been some harmful myths that have persisted.

This industry seems particularly prone to following the book, even when evidence suggests it’s time for a change. As it gets harder to grab and keep the attention of target audiences through direct mail and other mediums, it becomes even more costly to cling to counterproductive marketing myths.

We’re dispelling the most persistent direct mail marketing myths so that you can hone in on the factors that make a difference in your bottom line results.

It’s All About Clever Techniques

Myth 3: Email marketing is no longer effective Building your own in-house email list and providing a focused and well executed email marketing campaign is still very effective, especially when integrated into your content marketing activities. While you may have heard it said before, we will continuously hammer home this point: SPLIT TEST as much as you can! We hope this article helped debunk the 7 most popular email marketing myths that you should ignore when looking to optimize your marketing campaigns.

As much as marketers would love to believe that the perfectly worded offer or a tricky technique can hypnotize customers into doing whatever a marketer pleases, it just isn’t true. Focusing on tricking or commanding people to act will take you away from what you should be focusing on: putting a quality offer in the right hands at the right time and making the conversion as clear, appealing, and simple as possible.

Your audience will likely see right through any tricky techniques. If you turn off a potential customer, you’re only dragging your success rate down.

All Features Should Be Turned Into Benefits

Have you ever heard the marketing saying: “People don’t want drills; they want holes.” There’s some wisdom in there, but today there are plenty of market segments where you can thrive with a feature-based approach. Talk about the holes, but don’t forget about the drill. The enthusiasts in your market segment may just want to dwell on the object of their affection without being hit over the head with its benefits.

Imitation Breeds Success

More amateur and professional direct mail marketers have been brought down by this myth than any of the others on this list. The logic is simple: if I see a mailer that’s working for someone else, I’ll just copy it and make some minor tweaks to fit my purpose. Bam! Proven method for success.

Not so fast.

What you’ll learn the hard way quickly is that every business, service, product, list, and offer is its own animal. If you’re not digging into what makes your audience and your offer unique, you’re not maximizing your potential return on investment.

The surest way to ensure you’re avoiding the harmful myths of direct mail marketing is to work with experts that utilize data-driven solutions focused on finding custom strategies to target your most relevant, profitable demographics.

Visit the DataPrint homepage to learn more about the myth-busting power of our cutting-edge direct mail marketing services.

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June 12, 2018

Posted by: Robert Duke

Category: Business, Marketing

In this era of new technology, email manages to stay alive by helping businesses to connect with their prospects cost-effectively. No matter how many communication platforms get released on a daily basis, nothing can replace email considering the high demand it has across both the B2B and B2C space. It shows how one can trust email in the future as well.

Email as an active mode of communication has taken a significant leap in the marketing segment. Like every other medium of communication, email has its own set of myths that keep people dilemma about its usability and relevance for their business. Here in this blog, let us debunk some of those myths one by one.

1. Avoid Sending Repeated Emails

Repeated emails are annoying for many of us. Hence this misconception may not sound completely wrong from a reader’s point of view. But, when the time taken to compose marketing emails goes in vain, sender thinks of sending it again to reach all the audience. In such cases, instead of copying the same content, the sender can change the subject line and forward it to the recipients who have never opened the earlier email. This method will increase the read recipients list dramatically.

2. Do Not Use A Long Subject Line

The subject line is an essential factor to be considered in any email marketing strategy. Be it a short line or a longer one; it conveys what sender has to say in brief. But, considering the length of it, few believe that it should always be short and easily readable. A study conducted by Return Path showed us how character count in subject line affects the read rates of an email. The read rate was less impacted because of the length of a subject line.

3. Marketing Emails Should Be Of Short Length

This belief has taken its emergence by considering the reader’s point of view. According to this, emails should be of limited length making it easily understandable. But, one cannot cut short everything to minimize the character count in email contents. Reducing the length of email may result in losing its meaning, and the readers may not understand what the sender had to say. So, sending a long email is not a problem, but one should identify the type of reader and how much interest they have in going through it.

4. Tuesday Will Result In More Read Rates

Some marketers follow a particular day of a week such as Tuesday to send marketing emails. They observe the work pattern of a regular person to make this decision. While Wednesday and Thursday are the busy days, people seem lazier on Monday and Friday. So, marketers pick Tuesday as the best day to send such emails. But, few studies proved this wrong by showing more read rates on other weekdays and weekends instead of Tuesday.

5. Remove Inactive Subscribers After Six Months

It is a usual tendency to keep the data clean by removing all the unwanted information from the database. Similarly, businesses think of deleting inactive subscriber data from their list to keep it clean. But, few studies have shown that inactive users go through their email after six months. So, it is preferred to retain user’s data even after six months of inactiveness.

6. Marketing Emails Should Be Attractive

It is a common belief that marketing emails should be well polished and be able to attract the readers at first sight. Though this may seem correct in some cases, few studies have shown complete opposite result for this strategy. So, one should study the reader and their interest in receiving such emails before concluding.

7. Low Unsubscribe Rates Are Good For Business

Subscription is another factor firms use to compare their success rate. So, there is a misconception that as the unsubscribe rate increases, there is a decrease in the demand for their business. But, they fail to notice that the uninterested people remove themselves from the subscription list, which in turn helps the marketing emails to target only potential buyers.

Email Marketing Myths You Should Ignore Someone

8. Email May Land In The Spam Folder

Some fear that the Internet Service Provider (ISP) may label their emails as spam without providing any reason. This fear of going unnoticed has compelled businesses to compose marketing emails carefully without using particular words such as “Free.” But, some studies have failed to prove this right, since ISPs do not follow such strategy to label junk emails. Instead of keeping such emails aside, businesses should inform the customers whenever they have something free to offer.

There are lots of other myths revolving around email marketing. But, only when studied intensely, you can debunk them in no time. So, give no ear to such tales. Instead, focus mainly on the target audience and their interest in receiving marketing emails. Email marketing can take your business to great heights with less cost. Hence, try to implement them in your businesses whenever required.

Robert Duke is a Marketing Manager and Spokesperson of Blue Mail Media.

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[aurification]

I can be a handful, but that's why you have two hands.

basics —

FACECLAIM: Peter Gadiot FULL NAME: Michael Jon Carter NICKNAMES: Mikey ALIAS: Booster Gold BIRTHDATE: December 29th, 2442 BIRTHPLACE: Gotham City AGE: 35 HEIGHT: 6’5” HAIR COLOR: Blond EYE COLOR: Blue FAMILY: Jon Carter (father), Ellen Carter (mother, deceased), Michelle Carter (twin sister), Rip Hunter (son), Rani Carter (adopted daughter), Daniel Carter (21st century ancestor), Rose Levin (21st century ancestor), Skeets (robotic sidekick) AFFILIATIONS: Justice League, Time Masters OCCUPATION: Model / Socialite   MBTI: ESFP SEXUALITY: Bisexual MARITAL STATUS: Divorced → Michael was married to an older woman named Gladys who was his sugar mama. Their marriage didn’t last long before he asked for a divorce. IDENTITY STATUS: Public RELIGIOUS BELIEFS: Atheist

powers / abilities —

LEGION FLIGHT RING: provides him with the ability of flight.

POWER SUIT: uses an advanced microcircuitry-powered all-purpose combat suit that allows him a wide range of options to use in combat.

ENHANCED DURABILITY: the suit is extremely durable and very lightweight. It’s able to withstand bullets without losing its integrity but getting shot will still hurt.

SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH: the microcircuitry woven into the mesh affords him a high measure of super-strength, enough to easily shift twenty tons - and a great deal more if he exerts himself.

FORCE FIELD GENERATION: the suit is capable of generating a force-field that was powerful enough to take a direct punch from doomsday and leave him intact.

TIME TRAVEL CIRCUITRY:  time-travel circuitry is built into his suit, enabling him to travel through the time stream, both into the past and the future. the suit has also been been upgraded by rip hunter to enable michael to traverse chronal anomalies without any adverse effects.

GAUNTLETS: able to provide powerful energy blasts via blasters in the suit’s gauntlets. at the highest setting they can plow through two feet of concrete. they also allow him to create an absorbing field which acts similar to a tractor beam, in which he can grab hold of objects and move them about or hurdle them at foes.

VISOR DEVICES: his visor is outfitted with sensory amplification devices for auditory and visual. also has an hud for targeting and indentifying threats.

ENHANCED VISION: the visor can scan along the electromagnetic spectrum, provide infrared, ultraviolet, and x-ray vision.

ENHANCED HEARING: amplified to super human levels allowing him to hear sounds and frequencies no other human can hear.

HAND-TO-HAND COMBAT.

ATHLETICISM.

headcanons —

Four years ago back in his universe, Michael rescued a Daxamite child from the planet Daxam while Darkseid was invading it. Her parents were killed, and unfortunately witnessed the traumatic event. He took her back to Earth since she didn’t have any friends or family left after what Darkseid did done to her planet. The child quickly became attached to Michael, that much was obvious — even carrying around a teddy bear dressed up as him around the house. Michael adopted her shortly after, her new name now Rani Carter. She’s thirteen years old now in the present and has grown comfortable enough to call him dad. Now since she’s a Daxamite, that means she has powers similar to Kryptonians under a yellow sun. This surely keeps everything interesting for Booster.

Michael isn’t from this universe but is actually from an alternate timeline. Everything is the same for the most part except for one thing. His Ted Kord is dead because of what Maxwell Lord had done. It has been seven years since losing his best friend. This spiraled into him getting sole ownership of Kord Industries and taking on Jaime Reyes as a mentoree to respect his best friend’s wishes. How he ended up here will be explained in his biography at the end of this!

Normally Booster would always be clean-shaven but has grown a beard in recent years after falling into a deep depression. His daughter has never seen him without it. He does make sure to trim it when necessary but hasn’t thought about getting rid of the beard since this is just part of his look now.

personality traits —

- RECKLESS. Michael has a tendency to think with his heart sometimes and act on his own personal interests. He doesn’t care about being respected, being the greatest hero you’ve never heard of for a reason so this impacts his decisions in being impulsive or putting himself in a dangerous position.

- ECCENTRIC. Some might think of his sense of humor to be rather strange. He tends to laugh at the wrong times and not say the right thing when it’s important to be serious. He always thinks this makes him unique but it might be annoying instead to others.

+ AMIABLE.  He’s always friendly and upbeat unless given a reason not to be. This has been harder since his his best friend died and Rip told him there was no way to go back and save him. He’s starting to slowly become his old self again with each day though. You wouldn’t know that meeting him since he keeps the lighthearted attitude when talking to a friend or a stranger. He’s an optimist despite the tragedy filling his past.

+ CONFIDENT. He’s charismatic and has confidence in his abilities. This isn’t only just applied to what he does as Booster Gold but also with his modeling career also. The charisma is applied to conversations too, no matter how stupid his ideas might be there’s no hesitation in throwing them out there to someone.

biography for the last seven years —

When the ban started here in this universe, Michael had still been in his own attending a funeral. His best friend was gone and this made him fall into a deep depression. They had two memorial services — one for the businessman everyone knew Ted to be and another for the hero he was. Booster ended up being the last person to arrive at the service and didn’t know what to say when it was his turn to speak in front of the rest of the Justice League. He didn’t believe in anything ever getting better after that but it was with the support of his sister that there was a glimmer of hope. It was hard, really hard. The hardest thing he ever did to not go back and try rewriting history.

His life has been busy since, putting most of his efforts toward either helping the rest of the Justice League or keeping history intact. It does him good having something to do, keeping his mind occupied on how empty the world seemed. It wasn’t until four years ago after adopting Rani that Michael started to experience what it felt to be happy again.

Now bringing it all to the present, a few weeks ago Michael was helping some other heroes fight a creature terrorizing New York. His daughter was a teenager now and recently was gifted one of Michelle’s old Goldstar uniforms for sentimental reasons. Rani wants to be her father’s sidekick but Michael couldn’t lost anyone else. He’s always firm with saying no. She appeared at the scene begging to help but just as they were bickering the creature bursted through a nearby building. Skeets informed them that it was coming right for them. Michael did the only thing any father would do — whatever it takes to protect his family.

He used his time travel technology in his suit to take them away from the destruction coming for them. He meant to only hop a few minutes into the future but something went wrong and they crash landed in a different universe. The not-so-glamorous landing busted the device so there’s no way of getting home but at least Rani and Skeets were okay. This was all he cared about at the end of the day. Maybe it could be possible to build a life here until figuring out a way to fix his suit but seems unlikely right now. Michael realized the Booster Gold of this universe hasn’t been around for a while but has a history of being a model too just like him. He uses this as an easy way to get some work while they’re here.

[rj019]

Title : Genius, YouTuber, Artist, Musician and Spider-Man

Fandom : MCU

Pairing : Starker(tony stark x peter parker)

Rating : Mature (NSFW, Sexual Content) but it'll be in the later part of the story not in few chapters of starting.

Prompt : Social Media

Read on ao3 here. And Ch 0 here.

Chapter summary:

Avengers finding out things about Spider-Man.

Here's 1st chapter! Enjoy!!!

_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_

CHAPTER 1

Peter went home and just go to sleep after cleaning up and eating something. He doesn't want to worry about anything right now he's really tired. He knows that now probably all eyes are going to be on Spider-Man. He just needs to lay low for a while and people and media will forget about it soon. As for shield he doesn't want to think right now so he went to sleep.

But before he got too deep into sleep his eyes went wide open as he got an idea to take care of shield issue once and for all. He finally relexed and went to sleep happily.

 

____________________________________________

 

The day after ferry incident at Avengers 

 

The Avengers were in the common room area watching news while having breakfast for last day at the tower since tonight the things were gonna moved to the compound. And they were leaving tomorrow morning.

The news was about Spider-Man and the ferry incident that happened yesterday. Suddenly some news reporter said that they got exclusive footage of the ferry incident. Now everyone was curious about it and wanted to see what actually happened there.

Then the footage played. It was shot from the port. They sees as the some guy with metal wings was fighting with Spider-Man. He was trying to escape from his web. It wasn't so clear as it was in distance. Suddenly an energy blast happened and the ferry was split in half.

Everyone was shocked as to what was that blast. Now even Tony was more interested.

The ferry was sinking but it suddenly stopped. Spider-Man had connected both sides strong points with his web.

Bruce said, " How strong are his web to hold that much of weight together?"

Suddenly webs broke and ferry again started sinking. 

Everyone gasps.

But then again it stopped. Spider-Man was holding it together.

"Jesus Christ! How strong is this guy?", Tony said.

But it didn't look like Spider-Man could hold on for a long time but suddenly some bots were seen flying towards the ferry. Some bots were on the left side, some were on the right side of the ferry. They started pushing ferry togather. But some bots were still in the air. As the ferry got together, the bots in the air started mending it together. The clip ended.

Everyone was shocked as to what just happened. Tony asked Friday to get the clip and play it at the bots part. Tony started analysing it. His thoughts were confirmed that the bots were using arc reactor technology. Tony was in speechless for a while. 

"Who is this spider guy? How does he have my arc reactor technology and all this bots and stuff. Does he even have AI in his suit? It looks like it which will explain how he called the neno bots there." said Tony.

"May  be he had figured out your reactor. Crom the look of it he looks like a genius if he is one who made all those neno bots and AI." Bruce replied.

Tony tells him, "If he had figured it out then how does he not showed it the world. He could have sold it and got so much money. He would have made fortune."

"May be he does not want attention on him and wants to keep it to himself. As for why he didn't sell it, it can be that he knows how much danger it can be if it's in wrong hand. The guy can be genuinely good. After all if he had bad intentions, he would have shown it till now. He is out there for years. Even before NY battle. I saw some of his videos where he is helping people from aftermath of the battle on YouTube." said Pepper.

Nat and Clint were silent. 

Steve spoke up, " Not only that his strength stronger than me or Bucky combined. Why is this guy out there on street and not in Avengers team?"

"Shield is trying to get in contact with him from even before Avengers formed. He has been out there for almost 7 years. We don't know anything about him at all. Not who is or what his powers are or if they are biological or not. Everytime anyone goes after him he somehow knows someone is following as lose them. He was on Fury's list to get on the Avengers. He was on the top spots. But he never got to interact with him. Sheild is still trying to find out about him. The guy is good at cover his trials." Nat explained.

Everyone was blown away by that.

" I don't think so after this all Fury will get him away after this. He can be a big threat if he has this much power in his hand and ever gets on the other side." Clint adds.

" We need to find out who he is. If he is smart enough to figure out my arc reactor and make those techs, I need to have him work for my company and on our team." said Tony as he stood up.

" Wanna help Brucie? And all of you?"

Everyone nods. They all wants to find out who he was. They were bunch of curious heads. 

They tried all afternoon but got nothing and Tony was annoyed.

They decided to take break. Nat, Pepper and Wanda were watching some video on YouTube with others when he and Bruce entered the common room. Looks like the video just started. 

Pepper called them to watch it with them and played from the start.

There was a guy with mask who was playing a tune on guitar and started singing. The song was about Avengers. His voice was so pleasant to hear. There was so much details in lyrics. It continued for 2 minutes. After that video got cut. And the guy appeared again and said 'hey guys it's me again your cinnamon. Oh it's embarrassing to say this name now that I'm much older. I can't believe it's been so many years since we started this channel. I was like 6 when my aunt made my first video. Well it was my new song about the Avengers. Hope you guys liked it. Now let's go to today's video. I'm going to paint a portrait of all of the Avangers' whole team, everyone, new and old members in 15 minutes today while answering some of you guy's questions.' video cuts again.

Wanda paused the video. 'The song is so good. The lyrics are really detailed.' she said as others agreed. She played video again.

The guy appeared again but this time in a different place with canvas colours and all things to paint with. He starts working on canvas fluently and fast but neatly like he's been doing this for years like a professional artist. There was a woman with same mask as him sitting on chair beside him. He turned to her and said 'As you all know she is my Aunt and she will be reading the questions. You can start.' 

The woman smiles to camera and started cheerfully, 'Hey everyone once again! Let's get started with questions. So the 1st one from @user01 how much is your IQ? Your experiments are damn awesome and thing you make is just wow.' 

The boy smiles to the camera but go back to painting as he replies, 'I don't know I have never took an IQ test. I don't want to scare people away ' he gave a quick wink at the camera then goes back to painting. He is already done with base and outlines.

The lady starts to laugh and asks other question. ' this one is from @user02, are you still studying? ' the lady gave camera a weird look which said seriously?

The laugh can be heard from behind the camera. But the guy ssh them down. And replied 'Well you can say I am since I'm working to get my 4th PhD. Next question.'

' @user46 asks who is your favourite avanger? Look like this is a new to you videos. '

Everyone was paying attention now. Eager to know who was it.

The guy continues to paint as he smile and said, ' welcome to see our madness. My favourite avanger is Iron Man. He has been my favourite even before the Avengers were formed since he started. Tony stark has been my idol and crush from when I was 12. You can imagine how I must have felt when I found out he was Iron Man. If you wanna know there is a reaction video on my channel from 6 years ago.'

The lady asks next question ' @user8502 here wants to ask why can't I hack into you account to find out who you are? ' The lady and the camera guy and the guy himself starts laughing but his hands not stopping.He was half done and it was already looking great. 

When they calm down, the guy starts speaking ' you atually tried. Well it's good I made my account unhackable all those years ago cause I didn't want anyone to know who I'm and I still don't. Atleast for now. ' 

They continued with next question, '@user18qq how old are you?'

'I'm 19 and going to turn 20 in 5 or so months.'

'@userttl do you sell your art works?'

'No I'm sorry but I don't sell my work. I have a entire room filled with my all work since my childhood to now in my house.'  He smiles fondly.

'@user77kl what's your sexuality? Are you in relationship? '

This time the aunt continues to speak up, 'not that I know of. Are you cinnamon? '

The guy blush and shakes his head ' No I'm not in any relationship and I'm Bi. Come one aunt let get to next question I'm almost done' he blushes harder.

The aunt coos but ask the next question ' so @user63 wants to know what is your plan for future? '

' I haven't thought yet. I will probably applying for jobs in some famous companies. I'll stark industry too. Who knows if I get the job there and meet my crush. ' the guy smiles. He is almost finished he is just adding details everywhere. The portrait look awesome and he is still adding so much details. It's on professional level good and it not even done in even 15 minutes its only been 12 minute 47 seconds.

'ok looks like you're almost done so last question from @user3945 do you write your songs lyrics? They are so deep and detailed. I've heard all of your songs. You have some ones for individual songs too for Avengers. ' the aunt read.

'Thank you so much for listening to my songs. Yes, I myself write lyrics and compose all my songs.' he replied.

The guy adds some last details and finishing touches. ' So that was the last question for today and my painting is done.' he look behind camera ' how much time it took? '

The camera guy replied, 'it's been 13 minutes 53 seconds' 

' well looks like it took less then 15 minutes. Tada!!! ' he motions to portrait painting.

It was outstanding. It didn't look nothing like it was done in less then 15 min. The video cuts. Then it back again the boy and his aunt is standing togather smiling at camera.

The guy spoke, ' Thank you everyone who watched my video. Please like, share and comment. And if you are new and liked my video you can subscribe my channel. And as always guys if you wanna know how the portrait looks after drying, I'll be posting a pic of it at my Instagram. Check that out. Bye guys see you in next video. Till then take care.' 

Everyone stare at screen as the video finishes.

Rhodey speaks up, " It's a second genius we found in one day. Jesus 4th PhD at 19. Seriously? "

Wanda butts in " The video is 8 months old"

Scott joined in, "Is it only me who is all of a sudden feeling dumb? "

Pietro replied, " you were always dumb."

" If he gets in applies for job at SI we'll find out who he is, unlike some spider." Tony said.

" The guys is telented. Did you see his painting? It was awesome and so detailed and he made it in less than 15 minutes. I was on a professional level good may be better. I can't imagine if the guy did take his time to make something, it will definitely be a master piece. " Steve said.

" No one's gonna talk about the boy's crush on Stark?" Strange said.

Everyone looked at him startled.

"When did you come?"

" I'm here since the song part. You guys didn't noticed. " He replied smugly.

"Tony has been his idol and crush for eight years now. Woah! Even before you become Iron Man." said Clint.

" That mortal did look like there'll be a cute face beneath that mask, what do you think son of stark? " Thor asks.

" Yeah he was cute and had nice voice and all but I'm not gonna date any fanboy if you guys are implementing on that. " Tony sternly replied.

They were talking about the boy when FRIDAY spoke up. " Boss you are having a call from Happy."

"Connect the call Baby girl."

" Hey Happy"

" Boss the plane has took off. Everything is in order."

" Okk Hap. Thanks. "

The call disconnected.

" Looks like we're moving tomorrow as planned."

 

 

 

Not even half hour later Happy's call came again.

"Hey Hap. Everything fine?

" Boss! The plane has crashed at the Coney Island Beach."

Everyone's face turned to horror. They all stood up and went to suit up.

"What the hell Happy. I thought you said everything was in order."

" I'm sorry boss but everything was. The police is already at the scene. They said there was some guy webbed up there with a note from Spider-Man that he was trying to steal the stuff from plane. Some guy called 'flying valture guy'. I'm already on my way to the scene. "

" We'll be there soon too. " 

The line cuts off.

 

Avengers reached at the scene. It looked like disaster. Happy came to them.

"Boss everything is safe. Spider-Man had removed the carrier boxes from the fire before it could damage and the guy who wanted to steal it was webbed up to it. Sheild agents took him to the jail. He is the same guy from the ferry incident yesterday. He was selling some illegal weapons which were mixed with alien tech, they were after him for a long time."

Avengers let out the sighs. 

" It's good nothing's stolen or damaged. Get the stuff to the compound. This time we all will be going with it." Tony said as he motion to the others.

____________________________________________

 

Next day at the compound in the meeting room

 

 

Nick Fury and the Avengers were having the meeting.

" You all know about yesterday's incident was handled by Spider-Man. The plane which was crashed at the beach was not supposed to crash there. I want you guys to look at this video clip which our satellite captured." Fury said as he played the clip.

Spider Man and the Vulture was fight on the top of the plane. Valture broke on of the wings and plane started to crash towards the city and the buildings. 

Spider Man webbed the othe wing and changed the direction of the crash. The clip ended.

"You must have got enough idea how strong this guy is from this and the ferry incident. He is got so much power and advanced technology in his hand. If he is to ever turn on the other side. He can be a great threat. But he isn't showing any signs of that happening since it's been years since he is doing this superhero stuff and looking out for little guy. He had defeated many supervillain like green goblin, lizard, doc oct, electro, sandman etc. I think he will be a great asset to the team. I want you guys to find out who he is and convince him to join the team. Shield has been trying for years but he always got was without any traces. I'm giving you this mission. Hope guys can do it. "

Before anyone could speak up there was a cough heard which was non of there's. As the looks around the didn't saw anyone. They got into a fighting position. 

_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_:_

Cliffhanger!! Hope you guys liked it.

(人*´∀｀)｡*ﾟ+

(Peter has finished the 4th PhD mentioned in the video in this chapter. Cause the video Avengers are watching are eight months old. He even finished this fifth PhD in chemical engineering too but now he doesn't want to do anymore studying for now so he isn't working on any and is atually thinking about starting to find a job.

And Howard and Maria lives at Malibu mansion.)

[douchebagbrainwaves]

EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT FOUNDERS

Even a day's delay can bring news that causes an investor to your cofounder s should be like introducing a girl/boyfriend to your parents—something you do only when things reach a certain stage of seriousness. Counterintuitive as it feels, it's better most of the calories. There's something fake about it. So while they're often nice guys, they just can't help it. History tends to get rewritten by big successes, so that in retrospect it seems obvious they were going to grow into big, beautiful swans. So there you have it: languages are not equivalent, and I think this is the preferred way to solve the problem in its full complexity, it would seem crazy to most people to try to make it big is not simply a constant fraction of the things that will surprise you if you build something popular is that you shouldn't relax just because you have to create a special visa for startup founders. ITA in New Architect magazine said that one line of Lisp can replace 20 lines of C, and since they're the customer you can take that without having to think.

The combined code can be much shorter than if you had no users, it would still be important to release quickly, because for a startup the initial release acts as a shakedown cruise. A couple days ago I found to my surprise that I'd been granted a patent. If you talk to investors in parallel rather than serially. But that's another issue. Not just small, lame. If life is short. What they really dislike is the sort of big social shift that only happens once every few generations. In phase 2, yes. One thing all startups have in common is that they probably will, one day.

Such a high proportion of successful startups raise money that it might seem fundraising is one of the organizers got up on the stage to deliver an impromptu rebuttal. Ken Anderson says that the following code is about as close as you can, to a limited extent, simulate a closure a function that takes a number n, and returns a function that generates accumulators—a function that takes another number i and returns n incremented by i. So here we have two pieces of information that I think are very valuable. Don't be hapless. And yet we'd all be wrong. Introducing an investor to your cofounder s should be like introducing a girl/boyfriend to your parents—something you do only when things reach a certain stage of seriousness. And frankly the thought of a 30% success rate at fundraising makes my stomach clench.

But the founders contribute ideas. So things don't happen in the Python example, where we are in effect simulating the code that a compiler would generate to implement a lexical variable. This is why we even hear about new languages like Perl and Python. This was the Lisp function eval. Similarly, when investors ask how much you plan to raise a $7 million series A round, and we'll be accepting termsheets next tuesday. And yet within a month it had happened again: an aggressive west coast VC who had met the founder of a company in trouble, which makes it difficult to tell founders what to aim for. To get a truly random sample, pollsters ask, say, every 20th person leaving the polling place who they voted for.1 If it were, so you don't need money take some to grow faster than the salary that seemed so high when they left school.

A group of 10 people working together in the usual way. The challenge is whether we can keep things this way. Often it's one the founders themselves hadn't seen yet. It is. A bottom-up program should be easier to raise money in phase 2 get the best investors is in the bank so far. If an acquirer thinks you're going to stick around no matter what, they'll be more likely to buy you. If they reject you in phase 2, as a sort of Gresham's Law of trolls: trolls are willing to use a forum with a lot of animals in the wild is that each species thrives in groups of a certain size. Because some people don't respond. The sites's guidelines explicitly ask people not to say things they wouldn't say face to face contact that makes deals happen, but whatever it is, it hasn't yet been duplicated by technology.2 In a place where there was infrastructure for startups, accumulated knowledge about how to make them act. $15k per month is high, so don't actually spend that much.

This is not just a synonym for annoying. But this approach is industry best practice, and the odds of finding programmers, libraries, etc. Even a day's delay can bring news that causes an investor to commit, ask them to introduce you to other investors they respect. For example, if you've sold more than about 40% of your company in subsequent rounds. If your startup is connected to a specific industry, you may be better off in Silicon Valley. And yet a large number of startups. Investors are pinched between two kinds of fear: fear of investing in startups that fizzle, and fear of missing out on startups that take off. So you must cushion the blow with soft words.

Most visible disasters are not so alarming as they seem. When you pick a big winner, you won't know your users, it's dangerous to guess what the eventual equity round valuation might be. Most programming probably consists of writing little glue programs you can use, if the upside looks good enough. So if you lop off the top of the base language, you build on top of the possible rewards, you thereby decrease people's willingness to take risks proportionate to the returns. Wufoo took this to heart and released their form-builder before the underlying database. Because Python doesn't fully support lexical variables, you have a lead. Its purpose is to shield the pointy-haired boss believes that all programming languages are pretty much equivalent. And as software shifts off the desktop and onto servers a future even Microsoft seems resigned to, there will be more of them go ahead and do without startups. It will be easier to modify as well, and with it growth. Their lives are short too. And when people seem to think, any economic upper bound on this number. The other big driver of change is that startups are becoming cheaper to start a consulting company, or a niche product company, but against a backdrop of constant disasters.

Users love a site that's constantly improving. Slashdot, for example—because they're confident you'll pick them. And it is not clear whether you can actually solve this problem in other languages, of course, projects where the choice of programming language doesn't matter much. If it were, you could fund everyone who seemed likely to succeed at all. Inc or class foo: def __init__ self, s: self. What's important about startups is the pool of potential founders. When a decision causes you to develop software at a fraction of the probability that the company will die or at the very least people will have to be.

Notes

The company may not even be conscious of this model was that it makes the business spectrum than the rich paid high taxes? Investors are one of the words out of fashion in 100 years, dribbling out a preliminary answer on the y, you'd ultimately be a variant of the world population, and that's much harder it is very long: it might be 20 or 30 times as much difference to a bunch of actual adults suddenly found themselves trapped in high school junior. I believe, is this someone you want to either. 39 says that I know this is a variant of the ingredients in our own version that afternoon.

Down rounds are at selling it. Only founders of failing startups would even be working on Y Combinator makes founders move for 3 months also suggests one underestimates how hard they work. People tell the craziest lies about me.

[ladyfogg]

May I? - 11/?

May I? - 11/?

Fic Summary: Ensign Faith Diaz struggles to hide her mental illness from her fellow shipmates aboard the Enterprise until an intrigued Data goes out of his way to try to understand her behavior. At his insistence, Faith tries to figure out what she’s truly passionate about and eventually seeks the professional help she needs. Fic Masterpost.

Fic Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Data/Female OC

Warnings: tw: depression, tw: anxiety, fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut

Screenshot by @ geekygwen

Data left Faith's quarters, replaying the kiss in his mind over and over again. It was the first one he himself had initiated and he was still uncertain as to what made him do so. However, when he told her he enjoyed it, he was not putting up a pretense. While it caused no emotional reaction, he was still able to appreciate the nuance of the kiss.

Faith's lips were soft against his but firm in their pressure. He could hear her heart beating wildly, sense elevated blood flow running through her veins. The way she looked at him when he pulled away was what stuck with him the most. Hyperspace reflected in her pupils, dilated with arousal. She had studied him as if she were afraid he would disappear, taking in every detail she could.

No one had ever looked at him like that before. And that was what he enjoyed.

He had every bit of confidence in her ability to handle her new position within Engineering, though there was another matter that Data needed to address.

Geordi was busy organizing his staff when Data arrived. The android took note of who was available, searching for Carver. When he did not find him, he approached Geordi just as his friend was finishing up his instructions. 

"Team One you'll stay here and begin repairs. Sawyer, I want you to keep a list of needs to be done at starbase and what we can do on our own. Team Two, you'll help me dismantle the device for study. If anyone comes back from sickbay, let me know and I'll assign them a team. Team Two, be ready to go in five minutes."

Everyone scattered to get to work and Geordi turned to Data. "How's Faith?" he asked.

"She is resting, per Dr. Crusher. She will be ready to take her post by morning," Data informed him.

"Good. I'm glad she's alright. She did a damn good job today."

"Yes, she did," Data said. "Have you spoken to Ensign Carver about his behavior?"

"Oh yeah," Geordi assured him. "It was the first thing I did when I got back."

"Where is he?"

Geordi gestured towards the warp core. "Working with his tail between his legs. He knows he screwed up. I don't foresee any more trouble coming from him anytime soon."

"Excellent." Data turned and headed in that direction.

"Whoa, hey, where are you going?" Geordi asked. 

"I must speak with him myself."

"What are you going to say?"

"While I was waiting with Faith in sickbay, I researched ways to defend the honor of one's romantic partner," Data explained. "I then pulled from my research and wrote a program based on this particular situation and what I believe Faith will or will not appreciate."

"In other words, a guy insulted your woman and you're gonna give him a piece of your mind?"

Data gave a firm nod. "Precisely."

Geordi smirked and lovingly shook his head. He put his hands up in surrender and said, "Be my guest." As Data walked by him, Geordi grabbed his arm to stop him. "Seems like that dinner was a date after all."

"It at least was an attempt. We will try again once things are less hectic."

"I'm happy for you, Data."

"Thank you, Geordi."

Data took the lift up to the second level. He found Carver fixing one of the conduits but as he approached, the ensign immediately stopped his work and straightened up.

"Commander!" he exclaimed. "What can I do for you?"

"I believe you and I need to have a talk," Data said. "It is about what happened this evening."

Carver had the decency to look sheepish. "Commander La Forge already spoke to me. I am so sorry! I was way out of line."

"That you were. But this is of a personal nature," Data said. "I do not appreciate you insinuating that Faith was being unjust in her reaction because she and I were intimate."

Carver's eyes widened. He clearly was not expecting Data to question him directly about the incident.

"Commander, I—"

"I am not finished," Data interrupted. "Not only were your comments based on false information, but you also insulted her honor and integrity. I can only assume you jumped to the wrong conclusion when you overheard me speaking to Commander La Forge this morning. After this talk, I will not air my personal life out in the open. Regardless, you were in the wrong and I expect you to apologize to Lieutenant Diaz when she arrives tomorrow morning." He stepped in closer, voice dropping into a low but firm tone. "Understood? " 

Carver swallowed thickly, nodding. "Y-Yes, sir. I will, sir. Again, I am so sorry."

Data took another step closer and Carver practically shrank back. "She does not need me to fight her battles, nor do I wish to overstep, but should I hear even a whisper of insubordination or crudeness coming from you, it will be me you have to deal with. Am I making myself clear?"

Carver nodded again, harder this time. "Yes, sir."

Data straightened his stance and took a step back. "Good. I am glad we had this discussion. Carry on." He turned and left Carver behind, satisfied in his approach. 

Geordi was waiting for him when he stepped off the lift. "Feeling better?"

Data did not have the need to reiterate his lack of emotions. Instead, he said, "Much. I shall return to my quarters to check on Spot. I will be working from my console for the remainder of the evening, analyzing the enemy ship. Please let me know once the dismantling of the device is complete."

"Will do, buddy. See you in the morning."

Data nodded and left Engineering.

He found Spot hiding under the bed. It took some coaxing for her to come out but when she finally did, Data rewarded her with her favorite supplements. 

Data sat at his console, loading all the information from the battle. The ship that attacked them was an anomaly. While its warp function did not match up to the Enterprise, its weapon system did. It bore no resemblance to any of the Federation's known enemies and it never responded to their hails. It attacked them completely unprovoked. 

Logically, it did not make sense.

Data worked through the evening, analyzing and compiling information. Worf's security sweep yielded nothing and Engineering was still dismantling the device by the time oh-seven hundred hours came.

Deciding to meet Faith before their shifts, Data left his quarters. She answered the door already dressed, but her eyes told Data she had not slept well.

"Good morning," he said, stepping into her quarters. "You do not look particularly rested."

"I don't feel it either," she said, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. "Let me grab some coffee and then we can head out." She walked over to the replicator. "French vanilla coffee, hot, cream and two sugars."

As the cup appeared, Data said. "I believe we concluded having only coffee for breakfast is not nutritious."

Faith rolled her eyes but there was affection in her gaze. "Scrambled eggs with two pieces of buttered wheat toast." She made a show of holding up the plate when it appeared. "There, better?"

"Better." 

They sat at her table together and Data watched as Faith took a dutiful bite of toast before reaching for her coffee.

"I was monitoring the investigation's progress last night when I couldn't sleep," she said. "Can't say I'm surprised security didn't find anything."

"Neither was I," Data said. "Our culprit does seem to be a slippery foe. However, I believe I may have created a way to detect how they are cloaking themselves."

"How?"

She reached for the coffee again but at Data's raised eyebrow, she took a spoonful of eggs first before taking another sip.

"Last year, we encountered a group of terrorists who traveled inter-dimensionally. It was highly unstable and harmful to travelers. However, it allowed them to transport without being detected. The computer still has the data from their devices. I believe I can use that information to create our own device that will detect that technology."

"Excellent. If we can connect it to the sensors, we'd be able to tell if someone decides to pop up on our ship."

"Precisely."

"Would we be able to stop them from leaving again?"

Data considered her question. "With a few minor adjustments, I believe that will be possible."

"Great! Let's get started!" Faith stood but Data touched her hand.

"Faith, I do not wish to come across as pushy, but you will function more efficiently with the proper sustenance."

Faith chuckled. "Are you telling me to finish my food first?"

"I will ask that you consider it."

She smiled and sat back down. "You know, Data, if you were anyone else I'd be annoyed or angry."

"Why is that?"

"Because I'd feel like they were judging me," she said, returning to her breakfast. "At least with you, my anxiety can't go that route. I know it's because you are genuinely concerned."

"While I appreciate the compliment, I will say that I do not believe those close to you on the Enterprise will judge either."

"No. No, I suppose they wouldn't. Alright, let me finish this so we can go." She scooped the eggs between two pieces of toast and bit into the makeshift sandwich. 

Once she was done eating, Data put her plate back on the replicator for her while she downed the rest of her coffee.

Before they left, however, an alarm peeped and she stopped by her desk. "Almost forgot!" she said, pulling out her hypospray.

Data watched her take her medication before replacing the device. "Computer, reset alarm," she said as she adjusted her uniform. She turned to Data. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful."

She smiled softly, reaching for his hands which he accepted. "Thank you," she said. "For caring."

"You are welcome."

They did not leave her quarters hand in hand. Faith let him go as soon as they crossed the threshold. Together they walked in silence, though Data did not feel that Faith was at ease. Data could sense the tension in her. 

"What is occupying your thoughts?"

"Am I that obvious?"

"To me, yes."

Faith was silent for several seconds. "Do you think Geordi said anything to Carver?" she eventually asked.

"He did," Data said. "As did I."

Faith stopped walking but it took Data a second to notice. When he did, he paused and turned to look back at her. 

"You spoke to Carver?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"His behavior towards you and insinuations needed to be addressed."

Faith did not look relieved or appreciative. "But I was going to address them. Now he's really going to think I can't take care of myself." Her voice sounded strained and he could identify the panic in her eyes.

"I do not share your conclusion," Data countered. "Your actions during the battle proved otherwise as did your ability to speak out against him." He studied Faith's expression. "Did I make an error? Are you angry?"

She took a deep breath as she rubbed her forehead absentmindedly. "No. Well, yes, a little," she admitted. "Just...if this happens again, please let me handle it on my own."

"I understand and I apologize if I overstepped," Data apologized. "If it helps, I did preface my comments by saying you do not require me to fight your battles."

Her lips twitched into a smile and she began to walk again, catching up to Data so they could continue together. "That does help a bit. Apology accepted."

"I shall adjust the program as necessary."

"Program?" 

"As you know, I lack sufficient programming for many human situations. Last night I wrote a program designed specifically to defend your honor."

"Aww, you wrote a program for me? How sweet."

"If you do not wish for me to defend you at all, I can delete the program."

"Well, let's not be too hasty. How about this: if someone insults me to your face, then feel free to defend me however your program sees fit. Sound good?"

"I can establish those parameters." 

When they reached Engineering, they were met by Geordi. "Glad you guys are here," he said. "Faith, I need you to continue coordinating repairs. We'll be reaching the starbase soon and I want the crews to be able to start the second they get on board."

"On it, Commander," she said with a nod. "I'll talk to you two later." She shot Data a smile before taking her leave.

"Data, take a look at this," Geordi said, pulling up the device's schematics on the main console. "My team just finished our investigation."

"Did you find something intriguing about the transmitter's construction?"

"That's the crazy thing…no," Geordi said. "We found nothing unusual or interesting. It was a standard transmitter made from basic materials. Aside from the fact that it was seemingly made by ghosts, it's not special at all. There's absolutely no signature or indication of where it came from."

Data scanned through the information, cross-referencing it with the reports he and Faith had compiled to ensure nothing was overlooked. Finding no inconsistencies, he took control of the console from Geordi.

"I have been constructing plans for a device that can detect and disable interdimensional travel," he said. "Since we know the intruders are not physically on the ship and it is highly improbable they were able to transport on, it is my next working theory."

"At this point, I'd try anything," Geordi sighed, sounding exhausted. "How long will it take to build?"

"I will need several hours."

"Do it. And while you and Faith have got this covered, I'm going to get to some sleep."

"That is a good idea. I will contact you once the work is complete."

"Thanks." Geordi stepped away to speak with Faith before he left to go rest.

Data spent the rest of the day focused on his device. It was difficult finding the right parts, as many spare materials were being used for the ship repairs. But he managed to improvise when necessary.

Occasionally, Faith would come over to check on him, but for the most part, he worked in solitude, determined to produce something that could give them an edge.

It was well into the night by the time he finished. By then, Faith had already retired to her quarters and the night Engineering crew had started. 

Data knew his device would work and after integrating it with the sensors, he let Worf and Geordi know what to look out for before he too retired for the day.

With nothing to do with the investigation except to wait, Data decided to take part in one of his recreations. He had the image of Faith in the starlight that he wanted to capture on canvas. After feeding Spot, he set up his supplies and began to paint.

He had been painting for two hours and sixteen minutes when his door chimed. "Come in."

The doors opened and Faith shuffled in. Data had not expected to see her before morning. She was wearing a fluffy robe tied at the waist and had braided her hair per usual, but the loose strands suggested she had been tossing and turning. The dark circles under her eyes supported his theory.

"Cannot sleep?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I keep dozing off and then waking up," she muttered with a pout.

She wandered into the living area and dropped down onto the couch across from him. "Find anything useful with your device?"

"Not yet."

"If that doesn't work, what's your plan?"

Data opened his mouth to answer but then stopped. Instead, he put down his paintbrush, giving her his full attention.

"I do not think working will help your insomnia," he said. 

"I'll be fine, Data."

He knew this to be false. Sleep was essential to humans just as eating, drinking, and breathing.

"I do not share in your assessment," Data said. "You have been working very hard and need your rest in order to have full control of your mental faculties. I must insist you go to bed."

"Since when did you become so protective?" Faith asked. Her tone suggested she was teasing him.

"Since I adjusted your defense program to include a protective function. Now…" He put his hands on his hips to simulate a stern stance. "Will you go willingly or will I have to make you?"

What he said seemed to have a different effect on Faith than he anticipated. Rather than looking chastised or sheepish, her face flushed and her tongue darted out to wet her dry lips.

"Make me?"

"I am stronger than you. I will carry you to bed if need be."

"Uh...I'll, uh, I'll go to bed on my own," she stuttered, getting to her feet. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

Data studied her retreating frame curiously. "Did I make an error again? I did not mean to come across as controlling."

"N-No, you didn't. You're fine. Really fine. It's fine." She quickened her pace, almost reaching the door.

Her nervousness was different. Data ran through the scenarios until he realized what was wrong. "Did my forceful tone arouse you?" he asked.

Faith halted her steps and turned back around, showcasing the sheepish look he had been anticipating earlier.

"You took me by surprise is all," she said. "I've never heard you be so...firm before." Her hand reached up to fiddle with the end of her braid. "Don't worry about it. Actually, can we just forget this ever happened?"

"Not possible. I do not forget anything."

"Yeah, figured it was a long shot to ask." She nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"I shall refrain from using such a tone when we are not alone, so not to arouse you in public."

At that, Faith chuckled. "I'm an adult, Data. I'm not gonna throw my legs in the air every time I hear you give someone an order."

"Legs in the air?" He processed her words. "Ah. You mean sex." Data raised an eyebrow. "Do you wish to do so now? We are not currently in public."

"Are you asking me to have sex with you?"

"I am asking if that is something you wish to do at this moment."

Faith studied him curiously. "You don't feel sexual desire, correct?"

"That is correct."

"So you asking me right now is purely for my benefit? You don't get anything out of it?"

"Not necessarily," Data corrected. "While it is true I do not feel pleasure as humans do, I can appreciate the need for sex and the closeness it provides. As I stated previously, I am fully capable of engaging in intercourse and am programmed in many techniques."

"Have you had sex before?"

"Yes. Only once. Six years, seven months, and twenty-two days ago."

Faith looked pensive. "I guess I never thought about whether or not you had sex."

"Because I am an android, most assume I cannot," he said. "Do you not wish for our relationship to become sexual? I would ask if you are sexually attracted to me but based on certain reactions I know that you are."

Faith's face increased in temperature again and she folded her arms across her chest in a protective stance. "I am," she admitted. "But we just became close and I'm not ready for that yet."

"I understand. For most beings it is a big step forward in the relationship," Data said. "Would you be more comfortable discussing this at another time?"

"Yes. Yes, I would."

"Very well," Data said. "Though, when I ordered you to bed, I did not intend for you to leave so soon. You may sleep in my bed if it will help your anxiety."

Faith smiled softly and closed the distance between them, uncrossing her arms. "May I kiss you, Data?"

"That would be acceptable."

She slid her arms around his neck, her fingers playing idly with his hair before she pulled him down into a kiss. Data placed his hands on her waist, tilting his head to provide the most comfortable angle for her. 

When her lips met his, they were softer than before and slightly dry. She sighed and let her eyes flutter closed. Data mirrored her, calculating the safe amount of pressure he could apply. 

Three seconds later she withdrew, her forehead pressed against his. After another soft peck, arms slipped from his neck and she smiled up at him.

"Still as good as the first time."

"That is nice of you to say but you do not need to sate my ego, as I do not have one."

"Trust me, I wouldn't. I'm not that type of person," Faith said. "I meant what I feel when I kiss you is still as strong as before."

"Ah, I see. May I ask what it is that you feel?"

"Once I can articulate it, I'll let you know," she yawned and slipped her arms around his waist in a light hug. "I should sleep now."

"Yes, you should."

He led her over to the bed, pulling back the blanket so she could lay down. She removed her robe, draping it over the couch. Underneath she wore a nightgown. It was made of rather thin material and Data noted that it hugged her frame in a flattering way. Once she slid into bed, he tucked her in like he had the night before.

"Computer, dim lights."

The room grew dark and Faith shifted to get comfortable. Data recalled several hundred old Earth movies he had downloaded when researching romance and leaned down, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

"Sweet dreams."

Faith smiled, her eyes already drooping. "Good night."

Data left her alone and went back to his painting. He listened to her heartbeat steadily and then her breathing evened out, signaling she was fast asleep. He found he enjoyed her presence even when she was not awake. Data never considered himself lonely by any means, but having another person in the room did offer a comfort he had not expected.

Three hours later, Data's communicator beeped.

"Lieutenant Worf to Commander Data. The sensors picked up a signature. Please come to the Bridge."

"I'm on my way," Data responded.

He knew it was too early to wake Faith, so he decided to leave her be. Before he left, he replicated a rose like the one he had Guinan bring for their date. 

Data set the glass vase on the small nightstand. The blanket had slipped off so he gently draped it back over her. It was then he noticed Spot curled up asleep at the foot of the bed. 

This intrigued him but he did not feel the need to move the feline as she was not disturbing Faith. 

Studying the image of the two for a moment, he allowed himself a soft smile before refocusing his attention and going to meet Worf.