#left my laptop at work so they can install some software that i need

[alien-girl-21]

Girl without her laptop until Friday night 142 dead 582 injured

[devastator1775]

Anne's Journey: Two eternal Souls And The Lost Daughter - Chapter 5: Taking the next step

Summary: Anne tells Ashley everything and later, takes the decision that will change everything.

Anne’s nerves were pretty much shot by the time she and Ashley arrived at her home. Luckily, neither of Anne’s parents were at home, having another late night at the hospital. The distraught Drone quickly ran inside her house, with Ashley on her heels, and slammed the door behind them.

Ashley let out a sigh. “Anne, can y-“

“Not here.” Anne said as she grabbed Ashley by her arm and started to drag her up the stairs. “My room.”

“Okay, but-!” The other Drone groaned when Anne once again seemed to ignore her. “Will you please t- Ow, you’re hurting my arm!”

Anne quickly let go, her hands shaking and expression distraught. She hadn’t realized how hard she had been pulling. Was her strength increasing too? How much more would her body change? She gave her dearest friend an apologetic look, regret dripping of her visor. “Ash, sorry, I …I- “

“It’s fine!” Ashley grunted, rubbing her shoulder. She started to push her friend up the stairs. She practically lobbed Anne into her room, crossing her arms with a huff.

“Now can you please tell me what happened?” She asked, her voice still soft and filled with concern, despite the clear annoyance that was projected on her visor.

Anne started to hastily unpack her laptop and booting everything up, fumbling with cables and other equipment she was plugging in. “In a minute.”

Ashley let out a groan. “Anne, this starting to- “

Anne snapped her gaze to her friend. “Ash, someone was running a trace on me, and I need to know if they know who and/or where I am!” She shouted. She turned her attention back to her laptop. “Now let me work.”

Ashley stood there with her mouth agape, looking like she was going to say something for a moment, but decided against it. She crossed her arms with a sigh and waited for Anne to finish her business.

Anne ran several programs, scanned her equipment with any sort of anti-viral/hacking/diagnostic software that she owned, and …eventually let out a sigh of relief. Good, it looked like that whoever had been trying to run a trace on her didn’t succeed. Nor was any sort of malware installed on her laptop. Just to be completely sure, Anne ran a full self-diagnostic cycle to see if they hadn’t attempted to install any malicious software on her system. After a few tense minutes, the scan came up clean.

“Phew, we’re okay.”

“Are we?” Ash asked, her tone flat. “Or do you need to yell at me some more?”

The other Drone flinched, suddenly feeling really bad on how she had spoken against her best friend moments earlier. “Ash, I’m sorry about that. I-“

Ash groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No-no-no, I’m the one who’s sorry.” She said, her tone sincere with a hint of guilt. “You didn’t deserve that jab. I was being pushy during a tense situation and made you lash out.”

“I still shouldn’t have shouted like that.”

“Let’s agree we were both in the wrong?”

“Agreed.”

“You good?”

“I’m good. You good?”

“I’m good. We're good.”

Anne quickly ran up to Ashley and hugged her tightly, her mind finally releasing some of the stress that had been building up since they’ve left the municipal building.

“There, there.” Ashley chuckled, trying to conceal her blush when she eventually let go of her. “So, do I need to ask again, or …?”

Anne sat down on her bed, looking at her hand that were folded on her lap. “I …I’m not really sure what happened.” Anne stated truthfully. “Everything was going fine. I had access to my core and I was running the trace. I was finally so close to getting some answers, and ….I got hacked. I must have triggered an alarm or something.”

“Someone back-hacked you?” Ashley asked. “That fast? Who? Centre Security?”

Anne shook her head. “If that was the case, we would have seen security around the Centre, or even heard alarms.” She nervously wrung her hands together. “It was someone else, somewhere else.”

“Who? Why?”

“No idea, on either question.”

“And you’re sure they didn’t get a lock on you?”

“I terminated the connection before they could finish, which overloaded my systems and caused that …exploding feedback. But, judging by the lack of any sort of tracking malware on myself or the laptop, I’m certain they don’t have anything on me. Us.” Anne stated confidently. Of this, she was sure. There was no way they knew who she was or where she was.

“Did you at least get what you were looking for?”

Anne’s eyes grew wide, pretty much filling up her entire visor. In the excitement, she almost had forgotten that she had copied over the files to her drive, before their mystery hacker had butted in. She jumped up and ran to her computer, accessing the files. But the moment she opened them, she felt her heart sing.

“No …no-no-no, this can’t be right!” Anne lamented. With a growl, she slammed her fist on the table. “Son of a [beep]ing Trojan!”

“What?” Ashley questioned, joining her friend at her computer. The moment she looked over Anne’s shoulder to see what was wrong, she winced. “Ooh …that’s not good, right?”

Anne felt despair fill her core when she looked at the files …or what was left of them. It seemed that due to the sudden termination of the connection – or maybe due to something their hacker counterpart had done – that the files got corrupted and thus, unreadable. Not that she couldn’t open the files, but all the text were just symbols or jumbled words. With a long groan, Anne slumped on the ground, burying her face in her hands. Ashley knelt down next to her and started to stroke her back, not really sure what she could say.

After a few moments of silence, Ashley eventually broke it to cautiously ask a question. “So …what now?” She asked softly. “Try again another time?”

“No …no, we better not.” Anne reluctantly answered, letting out a heavy sigh. “They’re probably expecting me now.” She really didn’t feel to go up against that hacker again. Anne was good, but whoever that was, was in a whole other league than her. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do. Maybe …hey, are you listening?”

Ashley had stopped paying attention to her friend halfway through and seemed to be focused on something on the screen. “You’ve got something.”

“Huh?”

Ashley turned to Anne with a little smile. “I mean, there’s something actually readable here.”

“What? Show me!” Anne jumped up and looked at her computer. She gasped. Ashley was right. There was some data that didn’t get corrupted. It wasn’t much, but it was …well, something, like Ash had said. With a cheer, Anne threw her arms around Ashley and kissed her cheek. “Ash, you’re the best!”

“I didn’t do anything, though.” Ashley mumbled, turning away so Anne wouldn’t see her visor completely lighting up. She coughed in her hand, hoping Anne hadn’t caught unto her sudden bashfulness, and cleared her throat. “Besides, don’t get your hopes up. I said there was something readable, I have no idea if it’s usable.”

Anne deflated. “Y-yeah …”

The redheaded Drone flinched and guiltily wrung her hands together. “Anne, I didn’t mean to … “

“No-no, you are right. Don’t count our cogs before they’re all smelted, like the old saying goes.” Anne stated, going to her computer to start scanning the files for useful date. Just like Ashley had pointed out, there wasn’t much to go on. Most readable words didn’t really reveal anything. She just kept scanning over the file, hoping for a bit of good luck. “Let’s just hope that something – wait …I think …”

“What did y-? “ Ashley jumped when Anne suddenly let out a cheer. With a heavy sigh, she placed her hand over her core. “Girl, give me some warning. You almost made me yuck my core out.”

“Sorry, sorry!” Anne apologized, grabbing Ashley and dragging her to the screen. “I found them!”

Ashley practically grabbed the laptop and buried her face into it. “YOU HAVE? WHERE?”

“I almost didn’t see it, but I can make out their last known location.” Anne pointed at the screen.

The redhead squinted her eyes and read where Anne was pointing. She whistled. “Zeta District?” She read aloud. “Talk about faraway relatives. That place is so far removed from anything, I’m surprised the Global Mainframe has a connection there.”

“I know, but …at least I know where they are.” Anne beamed. She finally had some answers. Nothing much, but it was a start.”

“Anne, hold your Sentinel.” Ashley said, grabbing Anne by the shoulders. “You have a location, but …I’m sorry to say this, but you don’t even know if they’re …you know, alive.”

Ashley had a point, though. The part of the data that would show their current status got corrupted, which meant … No, she wouldn’t let this spoil her mood. Even this scrap of information was something she could use. She could …she could …

“Huh …”

“Something wrong, Anne?”

“What now?”

“Well …” Ashley opened her mouth, looking very determined to make a suggestion …and then let her arms fall to her side. “No idea, 2tone.”

“Me neither.”

“Excuse me?” Ashley couldn’t help but grin. “So, you’ve planned this entire heist to get this info …and now, you have no idea what’s the next step?”

“I know, I know.” Blush lines formed on Anne’s visor. She really hadn’t figured out what she had to do next. She had been so busy planning how to acquire the information from the Centre, that she forgotten to figure out what she’d had to do with it when she’d get it.

“Well, why don’t we forget about that for a while …” Ashley began cautiously, as she started to walk circles around Anne, letting her gaze go over her, like she was checking her out. “Let’s talk about how you regrew your visor after it got blown out?”

“Oh yeah …that.” Anne almost forgot about that …scratch that, she had totally and completely forgotten about that. Ashley had seen her heal in quite the spectacular fashion.

“That.” Ashley confirmed and crossed her arms, giving her friend an apprehensive look. “Anne, what was that? That …didn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen, and I’ve seen you getting patched up, like, a thousand times.”

“I …” Anne took a deep breath, anxiety filling her core, even more than when she was dealing with that hacker. How would Ash react? How would she look at her when she’d hear her story? Afraid? Jealous? Could she lose her best friend over this? Her best course of action, she figured, was just being honest and hope for the best. Right …here goes nothing. “I don’t really know what it is, exactly. It started a few days ago, when I accidentally dropped a wrench on my head.”

Ashley grinned slightly. “Yeah, sounds like you. Continue.”

And thus, Anne told Ashley what she knew. How she suspected the first time it happened was when she tumbled out of bed, which made Ashley laugh – Anne took that as a good sign. How she witnessed it really happen the day before.

“Daaaang …that’s crazy.” Ashley eventually exclaimed softly. “Hey, you’ve been getting faster, stronger …is it the same thing?”

“I guess …” Anne confessed. “I didn’t have that yesterday, though.”

“I see …” Ashley looked at the ground for a few moments, before her gaze turned to Anne. “Could …could you show me?”

“Show you?”

Ashley held up her hands, her expression showing shame for asking that. “Oops, nope, I didn’t ask anything. That was stupid and thoughtless. That was me running my mouth without thinking again. Forget I-“

“Okay, I’ll show you.”

Ashley blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Really.”

Anne walked over to her dresser and took out the same knife she had ‘experimented’ with the other day. Even if her beloved bestie lacked some tact from time to time, she couldn’t blame Ashley for being curious, though. In fact, …she was as well. How much more would these things evolve? Her enhanced healing – still weird to even think that – was getting faster with every day. And the things that happened today? What other surprises would there be in store for her.

She waited for Ashley to join her by the dresser, while she rolled up her sleeve. She held out the knife to Ash, who reluctantly took it.

“You want me to …?” the latter muttered as she stared at Anne’s arm.

“Just …don’t stab me.” Anne mumbled, blushing as she remembered her fiasco from the other night. “It still hurts, y’know.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Ashley’s voice had this almost unnoticeable shiver to it. She brought the knife to Anne’s arm, took a deep breath and …made a cut.

Anne winced and grimaced when she saw oil starting to lead out. She opened her mouth to say something; but immediately, the wound started to glow red and hot. A few moments later, the wound closed itself. Like before, it didn’t even leave a mark. She wiped the heat-dried oil of her arm and held it up. “There, satisfied?”

Ashley took a hold of Anne’s arm and gave it a look, gently rubbing a finger over where the cut had been only seconds ago. Anne had noticed how quickly it had started to heal this time. The other times it had taken a while longer before the healing started. Perhaps her powers were getting stronger? Or maybe smaller wounds just healed faster?  She pulled her arm away, not really feeling ready to experiment a second time.

Ashley took a few steps away from her friend, arms crossed and her gaze fixed to the ceiling, clearly deep in thought. Anne nervously played with the zipper of her jacket while she waited for her partner in (playful) crime to say what she was thinking. Eventually, Ashley broke the silence with a deep inhale, before letting it slowly be released into the tense air.

“Honestly, …I think this is …” She looked up with a grin. “Awesome. Absolutely awesome!”

A giant question mark formed on Anne’s visor.

“I mean, super-healing, super-agility, super-strength! you’re basically turning into a superhero!” Ashley was gushing at this point, pacing around the room with – literal – sparkles in her visor. She let out a gasp. “No-no-no, dude, remember those scary stories at camp? Can you grow wings? Do you have a tail?”

“N-no? I am not following, Ash.” Anne stated dryly, flabbergasted at how enthusiastically her friend was taking this. Honestly, she felt …kinda offended, or something? She was going through a few emotions right now.

“You know, the ‘Legend of the Murder Drones’ stories?” Ashley explained eagerly, her eyes wide with excitement. “Giant, oil-thirsty Drones with tails and wings, cast down by Evil Creators to hunt down the Drones of the Old Times? I loved that story!”

“Well, I’m so glad that I remind you of some mythological monster.” Anne stated dryly, hoping that the sharp tone in her voice would make Ash simmer down a bit. “Really, so happy that you’re taking this so well! And without a drop of concern, no doubt.” She let out a huff and crossed her arms.

Ashley flinched, looking very guilty suddenly. “Oh …yeah, I guess that you …” She nervously rubbed the back of her head, throwing a nervous, apologetic grin Anne’s way. “How …are you feeling about all this?”

“Honestly?” Anne took a deep, shuddering breath. She plopped down on her bed, letting herself fall backwards to stare at the ceiling. “I’m scared, Ash. I mean, why am I getting these abilities? Why did they start now, when I’m already dealing with my whole mystery parents- Oh!”

Anne bolted upright, throwing her friend a look.

The look on Ashley’s face betrayed that she had come to the same conclusion. “You think that …?”

“It …could be? Maybe?” Anne stated unsurely. “I mean …it would make sense?”

“It would be too much of a coincidence otherwise, right?”

Anne bit her lower lip and started to pace around her room. To think that she hadn’t made the connection earlier.

Her being left at Hazel and Naomi’s as a baby;

The fake file about her ‘fake dead parents’;

The decoy Parental Source Code that protected the truth in her core;

These …abilities that she’s been developing;

The hacker trying to stop her.

“What if it’s all connected?” Anne asked aloud, jumping from her bed to pace around the room. “What if this is why my birth parents left me behind? What if they knew this could happen to me? And if so, why? To protect me? Themselves? Were they on the run from someone who wanted me?”

“Or was responsible for these abilities in the first place?” Ashley added. “I mean, it’s maybe a cliché, but if they didn’t want to be found, or even wanted to know you were their child, maybe the best thing was to …hide you away?”

“Maybe?” Anne sighed. Once again, she was left with more questions than answers, but at least this time, she had something. “I’ll never know for sure if I, you know, don’t meet my birth parents and ask them myself.”

“Yeah, about that …” Ashley whipped out her phone and quickly typed in something. “Zeta District is, like, hundreds of miles away from Rivetdale. How are you going to convince your parents to take you there?”

Anne froze. Her parents. She hadn’t considered that. How was she going to convince them? Scratch that: how was she going to tell them that she had looked into this? That she had hacked her way into a government mainframe to get this information? How would they react about …everything?

And what about that hacker? What was their angle? Were they dangerous? What if she’d run into them again?

What of her parents then?

What of Ashley?

Something clicked in the back of Anne’s head. She knew what needed to be done. And the thought saddened her. But she couldn’t show it to Ashley.

“Psh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.” Anne said with a dismissive wave and giving Ashley a wide grin, making the latter tilt her head in confusion. “Give me a few days to think of something. Maybe it’s best if we’ll lay low for a little while, y’know.”

“Ooo-kay?” Ashley drawled out.

Anne walked up to the other girl and threw her arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Uh, not that I’m complaining, but what’s this for?” Ashley asked, awkwardly returning the unexpected hug.

“Just …thank you for your help with this.” Anne explained, resting her chin on Ashley’s shoulder, trying to hide the sad expression that she had trouble hiding away. “And for, you know, being so cool with the whole powers thing.”

Ashley let out a chuckle. “Hey, no problem.” She responded with a big grin, oblivious to Anne’s sullen mood. She pulled away from the hug and softly punched the latter’s shoulder. “What are friends for, right?”

“Right.” Anne echoed.

In her mind, she was already apologizing to her friend, because of what she had to do.

***

“So, how was school, darling?” Hazel asked at the dinner table that evening.

“School was fine.” Anne replied, a bit absentmindedly.

“Did you and Ashley have fun at the mall?” Naomi asked, taking a bite of her Battery Casserole.

“Mh-hmmm …” Anne poked at her food.

Hazel threw her wife a look, who just shrugged her shoulders, clueless about what could be amiss with their daughters current mood.

“Anne, everything okay?” Naomi asked, folding her hands on the table and giving her daughter a concerned look. “You look a bit …distracted.”

Anne quickly looked up and gave her mothers a smile. “Oh, sorry.” She apologized. “Just tired. Me and Ash practically ran a marathon today.”

“Oh? Okay…” Hazel responded, not really convinced.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea! You’ve got a long weekend coming up, right?” Naomi piped up with a big grin, feeling like this table needed some dire mood-improving shenanigans. “How about we go do something? Pack our bags and, I don’t know, just go somewhere?”

Hazel clapped her hands together with an exalted gasp. “Wonderful idea, Omi! Oh, I could ask Reggie if we could borrow his Vacation Cabin in Chromium Fields Winter Resort. With the new babies, he and his spouses won’t have the time. He’s been lamenting that the space has been going to waste these last few months. I’m sure he’ll be happy to let us use it.”

“It has been a while since I’ve broken a limb or two by skiing.” Naomi quipped, chuckling as she received a stern look from her wife. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“That sounds …great, actually.” Anne replied, managing to produce something of a enthusiastic smile.

“You could invite Ash as well!” Hazel suggested.

A wicked grin spread on Naomi’s face. “Yes, it would be good for you two. It’s a great place for rom- ouch!” She winced when Hazel kicked her shin under the table. “A-a great place for fun, I was going to say.”

Anne tilted her head, extremely confused. “Ooo-kay? I’ll …be sure to give Ash an invitation.” She stood up from the table. “Can I be excused?”

“Oh?” Hazel looked at her daughter’s plate. “You hardly touched your food, Anne.”

“Yeah, I’m just not that hungry.” Anne explained.

Naomi sighed and gave her wife a look, who sighed as well and nodded. “Okay, fine. But if you’re feeling peckish later, we’ll leave it in the fridge for you.”

“Deal!” Anne walked up to Naomi and threw her arms around her. “Love you, momma.”

“L-love you too, kiddo.” Naomi replied, a bit befuddled by this sudden bout of affection.

“Hey, how about me?” Hazel asked, extending her arms. She laughed as Anne practically threw herself in her arms and gave her a big hug. “We love you so much, Anne.”

“I know …” Anne replied softly. “I love you too, mom.”

Anne eventually broke away from the hug and started to make her way upstairs. Both parents smiled warmly at her, but the moment they heard the door of her room close, the smiles faded.

“Did you see that?” Naomi asked, reaching out to grab Hazel’s hand.

“Yes, she seemed …down?” Hazel replied, concern radiating from her face. She let out a soft gasp. “Do you think something happened between her and Ashley?”

“Maybe?” Naomi sighed. “Maybe Ash finally confessed what we all have been obviously seeing?”

“She would have told us something.” Hazel bit her lower lip. “Do you think it has something to do with ….you know? I mean, when she found out, she was so distraught and I know she told you she doesn’t hate us, but …” She sighed and let her hands run through Naomi’s pink dyed hair. “I’m just scared we’re gonna lose her.”

Naomi affectionately placed a hand on her wife’s face and gently rubbed her thumb over her cheek. “Hazel, baby, love of my life …you worry too much. Anne loves us, maybe almost as much as we love her. We just …need to give her some space for now. You’ll see, with a little time, she’ll be back to her regular bright self.”

Hazel nodded and leaned in to kiss Naomi, who eagerly accepted. She grinned mischievously at her wife as they broke away from the kiss. “How come you always know what to say to me, Naomi Brinkman?”

“Because, baby, I know you.” Naomi responded, letting her hands slide from Hazel’s face to her hips, gently squeezing when they reached their destination.

“Noami, Anne is upstairs.” Hazel chastised with a flustered whisper, as she tried to pull her wife’s hands away from her waist. She gasped when Naomi suddenly pulled her unto her lap.

“So you’ll better stay quiet, if you don’t want her to come down and see what’s going on, Babe.” Naomi whispered back, as she started to leave a trail of kisses on Hazel’s neck.

Hazel sputtered a few objections, but by the third kiss, she relented. She let out a heavy sigh as she surrendered herself to her wife’s loving touches and wrapped her arms around the latter’s waist. Loving this treatment or not, she’d be sure to get retribution on Naomi for this later that night.

***

It was the middle of the night when Anne’s internal alarm clock rang, which she quickly turned off. She slowly crawled out of bed, already dressed. She snuck to her door and opened it slightly. There was no indication that her parents had heard her alarm.

“Okay …let’s do this.” Anne told herself as she walked over to her desk.

She sat herself down in front of her mirror, and grabbed a blank data stick from her drawers, plugging it into the data port at the back of her neck. Once she was sure that the storage device was securely in place, she turned her attention to her mirror and opened her inbuilt recording software. A little red dot at the corner of her vision told her that she was recording.

She took a deep breath. This was going to be hard.

“Mom, momma, when you see this recording, I’ll …I’ll be long gone. Please, don’t be mad. I needed to do this.” She began, trying very hard to keep her voice even and not to cry. “First, I want you guys to know, that this isn’t because anything you have done. This is not your fault. This was my decision for my own reasons. You have been nothing but wonderful and understanding, but …”

She closed her eyes, gathering her thoughts.

“I haven’t been honest with you guys.” She confessed. “For the last few days, I have been investigating the events surrounding my adoption. I’ve done a few things that you wouldn’t approve of, but …it worked. I …I’ve found out parts of the truth. Things you don’t know, and that I can’t say because ….”

She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t mention the hacker, the forged files, the location that her Parental Source Code had shown her.

“I have found them.” Anne continued. “I found proof that my parents – my birth parents – are still alive and out there. And I’m going to find them, because there are questions, and they will be the only ones who will have the answers.”

Her entire body was shaking. There was a part, deep inside of her, screaming to stop this. That this was a bad idea. But she ignored it, and continued.

“Ash has helped me with these. Please, don’t be mad at her. She only did it because I asked her.” She pleaded. “She doesn’t know I’m doing this. She’ll be mad. She’ll be distraught. But please, tell her this, because it’s the same thing I’m going to tell you.”

She took a deep breath and she couldn’t keep digital tear from flowing down her visor.

“I love you guys. So much, and this …this is the hardest things I’ve ever done. But I NEED to do this. For your own safety, I can’t let you, or her, be involved in this anymore.” Anne’s voice started to break. She took a few shuddering breaths, trying to calm herself down. “Don’t try to find me, because you’re not going to be able to. When and if I can, I will try to contact you. I’ll find a way to make you know that I am alright. I promise that I’ll be careful. I promise that I’ll do everything in my power to come back to you. I’ll happily accept any sort of punishment when I do.”

She closed her eyes for a few moments, breathing heavily.

“Hazel, Naomi, you have been the best parents that a girl can wish for.” Anne said with a broken voice, heavy with sadness. “I love you all. I’m so sorry. Goodbye.”

She ended the recording and saved it to the drive in her neck. When it was done, she pulled it out with a heavy, sullen sigh. She looked at it for a few moments, contemplating her next actions. She closed her fist around the drive and gave it a good squeeze. She grabbed an empty envelope, wrote PLAY ME on it and placed the drive inside.

She took a deep breath and walked over to her closet, pulling out a backpack she had been preparing after Ashley had left. She had a small sleeping bag, some food, pretty much all of her allowance, her laptop and some other things. She was sure that she would be fully prepared for a long trip, hard as it was going to be. With a sigh, she threw the heavy pack on her back, letting her gaze go over her room. She wasn’t going to see it anymore for a long time.

She silently snuck out of her room and snuck to the master bedroom. She slowly opened the door to her parents’ bedroom and peeked inside. No movement from either of them. Good, she hadn’t woken them up. She crept inside and silently made her way to the bed. She couldn’t help but smile when she looked at her parents. Hazel was on her back, with Naomi curled up closely against her. She placed the envelope on the bedstand and walked backwards, away from them, trying to keep herself from sobbing as silent tears ran down her visor.

“I’m so sorry.” She whispered. “I love you so much.”

She made her way downstairs and grabbed her jacket …and an extra jacket, you never knew. She made a quick stop in the kitchen to raid the cabinets, for some extra snacks. She would be in enough trouble with her parents already, so this wouldn’t be that much worse. When she felt she was good and ready, she walked over to the front door. As she placed her hand on the doorknob, she turned around and let her gaze go around the place for one last time. This was her house. Where she grew up. Where she and her parents had laughed, had fights, made up. They had parties here. They had celebrated her good grades. It’s where she had confessed to her parents about her sexuality. Where they celebrated her coming out with a “coming out party”.

This was her home.

And she was leaving it behind.

Anne took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. The nightly chill of Copper-9 greeted her. The skies were clear and the moon was out in full. She walked outside and closed the door behind her.

“I was wondering when you’d show up.”

Anne, not wanting to scream out, slapped her hands on her face with such force that she almost dislodged her visor. She turned around, not believing who she was seeing.

“Ash?” Anne asked, remembering that she was trying to sneak out just in time to bring her voice down to a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

Ashley, also wearing a backpack and looking just as ready for a long trip as Anne, grinned mischievously and walked over to her shocked friend. “Now, did you really think I wouldn’t figure out what you were going to do? Please, I’ve known you since we were babies. You’re going to Zeta District and find your parents. ”

Anne grabbed Ashley by the shoulders, spun her around and tried to push her away. “Even so, you can’t stop me. You need to return home, and-“

Ash snapped around, shoving Anne away from her. “I’m doing no such thing, 2Tone.” She said, grinning widely. “I’m going with you.”

“What? No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“I’m not letting you.”

“How about I scream and wake up your parents and the whole dang neighborhood?”

Anne sighed and held up her hands. “Why, Ash, why are you doing this?” She asked pleadingly. “This could be dangerous. You don’t need to be a part of this.”

“Hey, I became an integral part of this the moment you asked me to perform your little heist with you.” Ashley grinned, hoisting her backpack higher onto her shoulders. “Like it or not, I’m coming with. Especially because it could be dangerous. You need someone to watch your back.”

“What about your dad?”

“Oh, I’ll be in serious trouble when I get back.” Ashley grinned. “But then again, your parents will be too. We’ll be grounded for years.”

Anne sighed, but managed to bring herself to smile. “I’m not going to convince you to turn around and go home, aren’t I?”

“About as much chance I have to convince you to do the same.” Ash placed a hand on Anne’s shoulder. “I’m with you, Anne. Wherever you’re going. I wouldn’t dare to call myself your friend ever again, if I’d let you do this alone. So, you’re stuck with me, 2tone.”

Anne took a deep breath for a few moments …and then threw her arms around Ashley, who immediately returned the hug.

“Thank you, Ash.”

“Anytime, Anne.”

As they broke away from the hug, Anne couldn’t help but to gaze at her friend for a moment. Ashley Yates, who would do this reckless and dangerous thing with her, just so she would see her parents. A warm feeling washed over her. Something familiar, but …different.

“So, what’s the plan, boss?” Ashley asked, jolting Anne from her thoughts.

“The train station.” Anne revealed, grabbing Ashley’s hand as she started to drag her along. “There’s a freight train leaving for Faraday City. From there, we can hop over to another train, head over to the next city and so on.”

“Just hop from train to train until we reach …where exactly?” Ash asked, running after her friend. “The Zeta District is huge, with dozens of cities and towns. What are you gonna do? Go from town to town and ask around?”

“I’ve managed to clear up some of the corrupted file, and I’ve managed to locate where their codes were last registered.” Anne grinned. “A coastal town named Little Diodeton.”

“Little Diodeton, here we come.” Ashley grinned. “One thing: how are we going to get tickets? The station is probably closed.”

“Easy …we don’t buy tickets.”

“I’m loving this plan already.”

“Let’s go.”

The trip to the station didn’t give any troubles, since the streets were deserted. Once there, it took them a little sneaking around security, but eventually Anne noticed the train they needed.

“This is it, Ash.” She whisper-shouted as she pointed to the train serial designation. “GPMD301021.”

While Ashley stood on look-out, Anne used her newfound enhanced strength to open the doors of one of the freight container, signaling the former to join her as she jumped in.

“Good, we’re in the clear.” Ashley said as they closed the container door behind them. She let out a long sigh. “We’re really doing this, aren’t we?”

“Yeah …”

“You good?”

“I’m good. You?”

“I’m good.”

“Good.”

“Still time to turn back, you know.”

“I know.”

“Not gonna?”

“No.” Anne took a deep breath. “I need to do this.”

“Okay then …” Ashley took Anne’s hand and squeezed it, giving her a warm smile. “I’m with you, every step of the way.”

Once again, that strange feeling was bubbling up inside of Anne’s core, making her feeling all warm and fuzzy. “I know.” She let out a yelp when the train suddenly jerked, nearly knocking the two Drones off their feet. Anne let out a embarrassed giggle. “We, eh …we better get comfy and catch some sleep. Still a long way to go to Faraday City.”

They found themselves a little hideaway behind a bunch of storage crates and got out their sleeping bags. They got themselves comfortable and ready to rest before they’d needed to get off the train. Ashley must’ve been tired, because it took no time before she started dozing off.

“Ash?”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m glad you’re with me.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Anne.”

Anne wrapped an arm around Ashley’s shoulder and pulled her closer, smiling as the latter snuggled up close against her. A moment later, Ashley’s visor showed [SLEEP MODE], snoring softly. Anne couldn’t help but giggle and got comfortable as well. There was an excited buzzing inside her core. She still couldn’t believe that she was doing this. Just a couple of days of traveling …and she’d get the answers she needed.

Everything was going to be smooth sailing from now on.

Anne just knew it.

[cricutmachinemaker]

How to Connect Cricut to Laptop: Get Two Best Methods Here!

Connecting your Cricut machine to a laptop is a simple task. All you need is some basic instructions that will allow you to connect both devices properly. This blog conveys how to connect Cricut to laptop. Here, you will get some easy and quick ways to connect your Cricut machine to your laptop or computer.

If you’re a beginner and want to learn all the ways, I welcome you to my blog. Being a Cricut expert and tech-savvy person, I can help you set up a connection. Let’s walk through the common ways to connect Cricut to a laptop or computer.

Important Things to Remember Before Getting Started

As you know, the connections between devices are complicated; you must know what points can make it easy for you. If you already have an idea about the compatibility of devices, you won’t face any issues while setting up a connection. Let’s have a look at the points, and then we will learn how to connect Cricut to laptop in detail.

This is how you’ll get ready to set up a connection between your Cricut machine and laptop or computer. Now, let’s move on to the final methods here.

How to Connect Cricut to Laptop With USB?

No method is simpler than a USB connection. It’s a wired connection, and we all know how to set it up. Let’s check the steps and then learn to connect Cricut to new laptop.

Now, you can install the Cricut Design Space and start creating your DIY projects.

How to Connect Cricut to Laptop Wirelessly?

To connect your Cricut machine to a wireless network, you can choose a Bluetooth connection. Your machine is able to connect wirelessly to your laptop or computer. Let’s explore the steps involved in its setup procedure.

That’s how to connect Cricut to laptop Bluetooth and set up your devices.

Conclusion

You know how to connect Cricut to laptop using different methods. The wired connection method is convenient and easy. The wireless connection process is the latest connection method that allows you to connect your devices without hassle. So, select a method that best fits your needs and allows you to work in comfort. Most users use a wireless connection like Bluetooth. Once you connect your devices, you can use the Design Space software for creating designs.

FAQs

Which Method Should I Choose to Connect My Cricut to Computer?

All methods are good for connecting your Cricut to a computer. You can connect your devices either via USB or Bluetooth. However, the wireless connection method has left behind the traditional methods. So, if you choose a Bluetooth connection, you’ll be able to work without the hassle of wires.

Why Am I Not Able to Connect My Cricut to Laptop?

If you’re using a USB cable, make sure that it’s not broken. Also, you should ensure that your laptop has the necessary USB drivers installed. On the other hand, if you’re using a Bluetooth connection, you must ensure that the Bluetooth option is ON. Also, if any of your devices don’t support Bluetooth, you should get a Bluetooth adapter.

Can I Connect My Cricut to a Smartphone?

Yes, you can connect your Cricut model to a smartphone such as Android or iPad/iPhone. The process is simpler than that of desktops and laptops. You only need to download and install the Cricut software known as Cricut Design Space and use a USB or Bluetooth connection to complete the setup process.

Visit: cricut.com/setup

www.cricut.com/setup login

Source: https://cricricutdesigncut.wordpress.com/2024/07/29/how-to-connect-cricut-to-laptop-get-two-best-methods-here/

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’

[ebaeschnbliah]

SHERLOCK’S  WEBSITE

‘Reading the document is the same as seeing the author’

This says a Chinese proverb (X). What does it mean then, when John tells Sherlock in A Scandal in Belgravia: ‘nobody is reading your website’?

SHERLOCK: I have a website. JOHN: In which you enumerate two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. Nobody’s reading your website.

Some more musings about Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’ and its content below the cut ...

Just a little while later in the same episode - while he writes aboout the unsolved plane crash case in D��sseldorf ... ‘Sherlock Holmes baffled’ - John describes his own blog as Sherlock’s ‘living’.

JOHN: Look at that. One thousand, eight hundred and ninety-five. SHERLOCK: Sorry, what? JOHN: I re-set that counter last night. This blog has had nearly two thousand hits in the last eight hours. This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash. SHERLOCK: Two hundred and forty-three.

‘This is your living’ is basically the same as ‘this is your life’. This is YOU. The way John describes Sherlock on his own blog, shapes how the public eye views the great detective. The same way as Dr Watson did in canon in his stories for The Strand. This fact becomes even more clear during the greenhouse scene in TAB. Although Dr Watson is aware that he doesn’t tell the truth about Holmes, he doesn’t change his stories about him either. 

HOLMES: .... as I have often explained before, all emotion is abhorrent to me. It is the grit in a sensitive instrument ... the crack in the lens. WATSON: Yes. HOLMES: Well, there you are, you see? I’ve said it all before. WATSON: No, I wrote all that. You’re quoting yourself from The Strand Magazine. HOLMES: Well, exactly. WATSON: No, those are my words, not yours! That is the version of you that I present to the public: the brain without a heart; the calculating machine. I write all of that, Holmes, and the readers lap it up, but I do not believe it.

If John’s statement ‘my blog is your living’ can be translated into ‘my blog is your life’ - my blog is YOU - what then can be said about John’s other comment, regarding Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’, when he tells Sherlock: ‘nobody’s reading your website’? If the document, the blog, the website reflects the personality of the writer, the author and when nobody is reading Sherlock’s website because nobody is interested in its content ... doesn’t this translate into:  'nobody’s interested in who you really are’?  I assume one can indeed read it that way, because the plot confirms such a translation as well.

Oh, don’t worry. I know who you really are. I’m never off your website.  (THOB,  Dr Frankland)

If Dr Frankland knows who Sherlock really is, just by looking at his website - at Sherlock, the author -  maybe it would be a good idea to take a look as well. ... the same way Sherlock advices Kitty Riley in TRF: ‘Well, look at ME and tell me what you see ... you can just read what you need’. 

First of all, I’m not going to use the external internet website created for Sherlock BBC in this post. @possiblyimbiassed did already a detailed and very interesting analysis of it in ‘The Science of Reduction’. In the comments of that post I tried to exlpain the reasons for my doubts as to whether those external informations - as fascinating and tempting as they are - could lead to a solution for the story told on TV. Anyway, in this post I’m going to look at Sherlock’s website just as it is presented on screen. But what can be deduced about The Sciene of Deduction by using solely informations from TV? There’s not much to go on, one might say ... and as I’m no Sherlock Holmes either, I will most likely ‘miss almost everything of importance’, like John did with Carl’s shoes. But looking at Sherlock, the author, is definitely worth a try  ... :)))) 

The Science of Deduction

Sherlock’s website ‘The Science of Deduction’ can be seen already in the Unaired PILOT when he is about to answer requests from various people. The very first message he is just writing, is directed at his brother Mycroft who apparently contacted him in a somewhat ... ‘impossible situation’. Sherlock’s answer is a quote from canon, probably the most well known and often used statement of the great detective ... in canon as well as in many adaptations:

Eliminate all other factors, and the one which remains must be the truth.  (The Sign of the Four)

How often have I said to you that when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?  (The Sign of the Four)

It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.  (The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet)

We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.  (Adventure of the Bruce Partington Plans)

When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. (Adventure of the Blanched Soldier)

Five more requests wait for Sherlock’s attention. His Inbox is indeed well filled ... at least six possible cases ...

Sherlock answers Gregson’s request about a ‘Church bell theft’. This done, he is clearly pleased about DI Lestrade’s not very informative message ‘Please call me’. When he is about to answer Jones request about ‘Samson and Del’, Mike Stamford and John Watson enter the room and Sherlock stops working through his Inbox. 

The next day Sherlock and John meet for the first time at Baker Street 221b. John mentions that he’d found Sherlock’s website the night prior but contrary to Sherlock’s big expectations, John isn’t much impressed (unlike Jeff Hope who thinks Sherlock’s Science of Deduction is brilliant). This scene happens in both versions - PILOT and ASIP - almost identically.

JOHN: Oh, I, um, looked you up on the internet last night. SHERLOCK: Anything interesting? JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction. SHERLOCK: What did you think? JOHN: Quite amusing, I suppose. SHERLOCK: “Amusing”? JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and – what was it? – a retired plumber by his left hand. SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career by your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits by your mobile phone. JOHN: How? SHERLOCK: You read the article. JOHN: The article was absurd. SHERLOCK: But I know about his drinking habits. I even know that he left his wife.

Sherlock BBC, PILOT

One of the small and also strange differences between the two versions is the ‘identification’ text line from Sherlock’s website, quoted by John. In PILOT Sherlock refers to a plumber and his left hand and in ASIP to an airline pilot and his left thumb. “It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles” tells Holmes in The Man with the Twisted Lip and “It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important” in A Case of Identity. A lot of such little, seemingly unnecessary modifications and inconsistencies can be found throughout this adaptation. Maybe they are indeed there for a reason?

JOHN: I looked you up on the internet last night. SHERLOCK: Anything interesting? JOHN: Found your website, The Science of Deduction. SHERLOCK: What did you think? JOHN: You said you could identify a software designer by his tie and an airline pilot by his left thumb. SHERLOCK: Yes; and I can read your military career in your face and your leg, and your brother’s drinking habits in your mobile phone. JOHN: How?

Sherlock BBC, ASIP

Why had the profession to be changed from plumber to airline pilot and the body part from hand to thumb, one wonders? Unless it’s because plumbers have to do with water and work down to earth or even underground. They install pipes/tubes or mend broken ones. By the way, in german language the phrase ‘install a pipe’ (ein Rohr verlegen) has the same meaning as the english ‘put up shelves’. Airline pilots on the other hand often tend to be situated high up above the clouds. Well, this sort of topic runs like a red thread throuout the whole story. And that strange change of profession isn’t the only ‘small’ modification from PILOT to ASIP either. 

(Strange little changes   Plumber musings)

Also interesting ... there are no visuals of Sherlock’s website in the official episodes ASIP and TBB. Only in the following episode, TGG, the viewer is able to take a first ‘official’ look at The Science of Deductions, when Sherlock writes his messages to the bomber. The look of his website has changed completely.

The Great Game: the first entry in the Forum is about Carl Powers shoes and botulinum toxin ... that’s the reason for food poisoning.  (Under the microscope)

Next time the website can be seen, is after Sherlock solved the second case and sends his congratulations regarding Ian Monford’s relocation to Columbia ...

And a third time when Sherlock has solved the murder of Conny Prince ...

There is no picture of Sherlock’s website connected to the fake Vermeer painting because this time Sherlock sends the solution not on his laptop but uses the pink phone dublicate instead (Yes, besides 2 Johns, 2 Faiths, 2 Charles, 2 serial killers, 2 empty houses, 2 flights of the dead, various pairs, doubles, twins ... etc, etc ... there are also 2 pink phones present in Sherlock BBC). Anyway, the Science of Deduction can be seen again when Sherlock suggests a meeting with the bomber at the same pool, where once little Carl died, to hand over the stolen missile defence plans ...

There’s no picture of Sherlock’s website in ASIB. The Science of Deduction turns up only in the two short but very interesting pieces of dialogue between John and Sherlock with which I started this post.

John utters the opinion that their clients come to Baker Street just because of his blog. Sherlock reminds him that he too has a website. John then mockingly mentions Sherlock’s analysis of 240 different types of tobacco ash on said website and adds ‘nobody is reading your website’. Sherlock is clearly offended and corrects the number of tobacco ashes from 240 to 243. Some time later John raises the tobacco-ash topic once more, proudly refers to his own blog - and the 1895 hits on it - and tells Sherlock ‘this is your living’.

The next visual presentation of the website can be seen in THOB, when Sherlock shows John the Inbox message of little Kirsty about her vanished, luminous rabbit Bluebell ...

In the same episode Sherlock tells Mrs Hudson that a ‘little blog on the identification of perfumes’ can be found on his website. It turns out that Sherlock hasn’t only extensive knowledge regarding ash, he also knows a lot about perfumes.  (Perfumes in Sherlock BBC by @gosherlocked ) 

The HOUND-episode is also the one in which Dr Frankland tells Sherlock: ’I know who you really are. I’m never off your website’. The Baskerville scientist knows John’s blog as well and is a bit confused that Sherlock isn’t wearing the deerstalker hat, as shown there.

The Science of Deductions turns up next in TRF, in an newspaper article about the recovery of Turner’s masterpiece, the ‘Falls of the Reichenbach’, that Sherlock was able to recover (last line on the left column).

Sherlock’s website is mentioned a last time in TSOT. Not on Sherlock’s laptop but on John’s phone. Mary suggests that John should go on a case with Sherlock. John opens The Science of Deduction on his own phone and asks Sherlock to pick a case from his already ‘bursting Inbox’. Sherlock chooses The Bloody Guardsman. Sadly it’s impossible to get a clear shot of the small mobile-screen. (John’s blog stops at TSOT by @gosherlocked)

THE LOOK

Blue is the main colour Sherlock has chosen for his website ... shades of different blue ... a dark midnight blue and the skyline of a city by night can be dimly seen in the background and - a little bit clearer - on both sides. 

As Sherlock Holmes is one of London’s most popular characters, it’s easy to assume that the skyline used for his website is that of GBs capital. With this in mind, the water in the bottom right corner, that can be seen rather good on the first pic above, should be the Thames and the shallow arch above it, most likely one of its many bridges. On the opposite site, in the upper left corner, next to the small, pale tower and right behind the ‘The’ of the website’s headline, the vast vault of Saint Paul’s Cathedral can be dimly seen (the view is better on a TV screen). 

If one connects the images of river and bridge on the left with St Paul’s on the right, I guess the background of Sherlock’s website could be a panorama photo similar to the one below. That’s a view from the Southbank of the Thames with Blackfriars Bridge in the foreground. And this location does play a role in the story ....

Blackfriars Bridge is located between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo Bridge. The name derives from Black Freres ... the French 'frère' meaning 'brother'. This referes to the black habits of the Dominican monks. A monk is also called a brother, a nun is also called a sister and the opposite of a ‘black brother’ would be a (ghostly) ‘white sister’. Just saying. :) 

(The Roads we walk   Vatican Cameos   A Christmas Tale)

As mentioned above, this particular cityscape plays a role in Sherlock BBC. It’s a crime scene from TGG. 

SHERLOCK: View of the Thames. South Bank – somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo.

At this place, Alex Woodbridge was found, the security guard and hobby stargazer, killed by the Golem, in the Vermeer case ... the same case which doesn’t turn up in the messages on Sherlock’s website because he uses the pink phone and conveys the solution verbally. Viewed metaphorically ... he speaks through the heart.

Blue is the colour of the sky ... high up, where the aeroplanes fly. Blue is also the colour of the water, deep down below ... where powerful emotions run freely and London is Sherlock’s city. The country, the city, the houses, even cars are closely linked to the famous detective. They seem to represent his ‘body’. 

Just put me back in London. I need to get to know the place again, breathe it in – feel every quiver of its beating heart.  (Sherlock, TEH)

Brother Mycroft IS government and ‘queen’ at the same time. There are all kinds of networks above and below ground and steam trains run behind fake facades. Saint Paul’s Cathedral and the river Thames are often special eye-catcher. The coat of arms ... with dragon, lion and Saint George’s cross ... make their appearance as well as the great fire of London in 1666, the Isle of Dogs and the Greenwich pips. ‘Transport’ goes from standstill to movement ....

666-The number of the beast   Every quiver of his beating heart   Saint Paul’s Cathedral   Still at the centre of the web   From standstill to movement 

WEBSITE ... A SITE FOR THE WEB

Sherlock has a website .... John has a blog. Why the difference? Both men, Sherlock and John, are given strongly internet-related nicknames ... Hat-man and Robin:The web detectives ... Sherlock & John: Blogger Detectives. Sherlock is also called ‘Net Tec’ and ‘net phenomenon’. What’s the difference between Blog and Website:

BLOG:  The word ‘blog’ is short for ‘weblog’ (web=net + log=logbook), jokingly broken into the phrase ‘we blog’. A blog is a discussion or informational website published on the World Wide Web consisting of discrete, often informal diary-style text entries. Posts are typically displayed in reverse chronological order, so that the most recent post appears first, at the top of the web page. 'Blog' and 'blogging' are now loosely used for content creation and sharing on social media, especially when the content is long-form and one creates and shares content on regular basis. (X)

WEBSITE:   The word website consists of web=net + site=place. Literally web-site means ‘a place in the net’. A website can be used in various fashions: a personal website, a corporate website for a company, a government website, an organization website, etc. Websites can be the work of an individual, a business or other organization, and are typically dedicated to a particular topic or purpose. All publicly accessible websites collectively constitute the World Wide Web. (X)

Of course, the word ‘web’ immediately reminds me of Jim Moriarty. The spider at the centre of a criminal web, woven with thousands of threads and Jim knows precisely how each and every single one of them dances. Sherlock is going to monitor the underworld in order to notice every quiver of that web, so he will notice when the spider makes his move. 

As mentioned above, all kinds of networks - above and below ground - play a major role in Sherlock BBC. There are Mycroft’s people, his agents and spies. There are terrorists who threaten London with a massive attack. General Shan has a vast network with thousands of operatives and Sherlock calls it ‘a cult’. A surveillance web is closing in on Baker Street, their attention focussed on Sherlock. An Underground network as well as an underground network runs below the surface of the big city. A secret cult of revenging birdes meets in the crypt of a desanctified church. Sherlock is convinced that the ‘world is woven from billions of lives, every strand crossing every other. What we call premonition is just movement of the web. If you could attenuate to every strand of quivering data, the future would be entirely calculable, as inevitable as mathematics’. So many threads - linked and interwoven - they create a web, a net .... a web-net. Basically, that’s exactly how brains work as well. Every brain is a very vast and highly functional biological network ... and Sherlock’s is faster than most ‘... still catching up with my brain. It’s terribly fast’.

Recent models in modern neuroscience treat the brain as a biological computer, very different in mechanism from an electronic computer, but similar in the sense that it acquires information from the surrounding world, stores it, and processes it in a variety of ways. Neurons typically communicate with one another by means of long fibers, which carry trains of signal pulses to distant parts of the brain or body. (X)

And then there's also Sherlock’s ‘own’ network ... the ‘homeless network’ it is called. According to Sherlock, it is ‘indispensible and faster than the police’. Those group of people is based on the Baker Street Irregulars from canon. There, in Victorian London, they are street boys, sometimes employed by Holmes to run errands for him. Holmes speaks of them as ‘division of the detecitve police force’. Dr Watson describes them as ‘little scoundrels’ and ‘half a dozen of the dirtiest and most ragged street Arabs that ever I clapped eyes on’. 

While the idea of homeless people who sometimes assist Sherlock in his cases is taken from canon, the name - homeless network - is not. Names are always important in this story. So basically, what is a homless network? It is a network that has no home. At times it is usefull for Sherlock and he pays them for their help. In a way this reminds me of Eurus. She says abut herself: 'to remember everything one just needs a big enough hard drive’. Her intellectual abilities are also of occasional use for the government. In return she requires treats. Similar to Sherlock’s homeless network, Eurus has no home either. She lost it long ago in her childhood days. Sherlock has a website ... a site, a place in the web ... but only very few people are interested in it. Actually just Jeff Hope and Dr Frankland as it seems. Sherlock has a homless network ... a network without a home. 

The women of the ‘cult’ from TAB first gave me the idea that all those dangerous groups ... agents, spies, terrorists and the various networks ... could actually be metaphors for something that happens inside Sherlock’s mind. That all those groups represent the awakening of emotional stirrings ... desires, fears, impulses ... that haunt the great detective. There seem to be aspects of Sherlock’s personality which he views as rightous criminal and puts them behind padded walls or elephant glass. Others are just annoying and distracting. Some he ignores most of the time because he considers them to be irrelevant for his system. Some have no home, although they turn out to be usefull now and then. Then something unexpected happens ... something new is coming ... and this marks the beginning of a change of perception in Sherlock Holmes, maybe a revolution.

The reptile in 221b   Underground networks    AGRA-Under the sign of four   Eurus, the emotional memory & The cold war by @raggedyblue

FOUR MESSAGES and a GAP 

Four messages can be read on Sherlock’s website. All of them are from TGG, related to four of the five cases, written by Sherlock and directed at ‘the bomber’. As it turns out at the end of the episode, this person is none other than Jim Moriarty, the spider in the centre of the web. 

FOUND. Pair of trainers belonging to Carl Powers (1978-1989). Botulinum toxin still present. Apply 221b Baker St.

Congratulations to Ian Monkford on his relocation to Columbia.

Raoul de Santos, the house-boy, botox.

xxx

Found. The Bruce-Partington plans. Please collect. The Pool. Midnight.

Only one of the cold cases is not mentioned on Sherlock’s website, because Sherlock uses the pink phone duplicate, sent to him by the bomber in a strong box at the beginning of the ‘great game’, to submit his message. Sometimes it is useful to ‘mind the gap’ as Sherlock says. Sometimes that, what is left out, is just as important as that, what is there. The ‘gap-case’ is the one about the fake Vermeer painting, whose forgery was first noticed by security guard and hobby stargazer Alex Woodbridge, murdered because of it by the Golem. His body was found at the Southbank of the Thames near Blackfriars Bridge ... the same location Sherlock uses as background for his website. Sherlock discovers and proves the truth due to the display of an impossible supernova on the painting. 

A picture pretends to show a scene from the past, but the massive explosion painted on it reveals, that the picture has actually been created much more recently. That massive explosion had never happened in the past.

The bomber’s hostage in the Vermeer case is a kid who is never shown on screen. The little boy transmittes a countdown from 10 to 1, that mirrors Sherlock’s own countdown in TFP (Countdown) while the boy’s plea for help mirrors that of the girl on the plane and also that of Victor Trevor, the boy in the well near Musgrave Hall. Victor Trevor and Musgrave Hall represent two canon stories -  The Adventure of the Gloria Scott and The Musgrave Ritual - both set in Sherlock Holmes’ university time, long before he met Dr Watson. Both cases lead back to a time ‘where Sherlock began’.

(Why Victor Trevor was turned into a child by @sagestreet)

THE HOUND & THE GUARDSMEN

Little Kirsty Stapleton’s cry for help in THOB to ‘please, please, please’ find Bluebell, her vanished, luminous rabbit, marks the beginning of the HOUND case. Chemistry, triggered by the pressure of feet, fills the air and drives everyone exposed to it, crazy. Love is in the air .... At the end Jim Moriarty (Mr Sex) walks free, released from his cell by Mycroft Holmes himself ... 

Private Stephen Bainbridge’s request in TSOT, regarding a mysterious stalker, marks the beginning of the GUARDSMEN case. Jonathan Small (literally: Jonny Little), a brilliant, ruthless monomaniac (who strongly reminds me of Jim Moriarty), stabbs guardians/facades with a ‘meat dagger’. At the end Mary Watson is pregnant ... ‘stabbed’ by ‘Johnny boy’ (Hamish=James) Watson ... the HOUND hidden behind the facade of the facade .... Matroshka ‘poppets’ indeed.

“Mary – lots of love ... poppet ... oodles of love and heaps of good wishes from CAM.”  (Telegram from Magnussen, keeper of the deepest and darkest secrets and scandals,TSOT)

THE BLUEBELL COMPANIONS

Alongside little Kirsty’s message about Bluebell there appear two more requests on the Inbox page of Sherlock’s website (they can be easily read on TV screen). In films neiter images and certainly not texts appear on screen out of coincidence. Pictures are there for certain reasons, even if it’s just for the purpose of a fitting decoration. Texts on the other hand are much more specific. Someone must have had the idea to put it there and someone had to create the image. Especially the makers of Sherlock BBC have repeatedly mentioned that everything that appears on screen has its meaning. With this in mind, what can be deduced about those two earlier requests in Sherlock’s Inbox?

1- Please help victims of China earthquake. It costs just 5p. 

China - right from the beginning a certain ‘easterly’ theme appears and runs from there throughout the whole story like a red ribbon until the moment the Eastwind finally approaches in the shape of Eurus. In a metaphorical reading I connect the East to emotions and memory. 

An earthquake is a sudden outburst of held back and bottled-up energie. When the pressure gets too high it results in a violent release of that energy. Explosions .... rocks crack, the earth shakes. Earthquakes can trigger landslides, volcanic activity or cause a tsunami. Major changes are also often referred to as ‘earthquakes’.

Costs of 5p ... A penny (p) is a coin and a unit of the britisch pound (£), the official currency in the UK (a currency Sherlock doesn’t know how to spend?). 5p is money. The saying goes that time is money. A minute is a unit of time. Viewing it in reversed order ... money is time = 5 penny are 5 minutes. ‘It took her (Eurus) just five minutes to do all of this to us.’

Reading it that way, a possible translation of the first request in Sherlock’s Inbox could be:  “Please help victims of emotional upheaval. It takes just 5 minutes.”  :)

2- Re. Mudchute Query

Mudchute is a railway station situated in the Millwall area on the Isle of Dogs. The name Millwall has its source in the large number of windmills built on the river wall in the 19th century. They were needed to ground corn and wheat into flour that was brought along the Thames. The original station was located on an old Victorian railway line that had been disused for many years. An elevated station opened 1987. When the line was extended under the Thames, the station was rebuilt close to the tunnel entrance. It opened 1999 and was finally completed 2009. The station was originally intended to be named Millwall Park but then renamed in Mudchute, refering to the engineering overspill when Millwall Dock was being created in the 1840s. (X)

Basically ... the second request in Sherlock’s Inbox is about a query regarding a railway station, built in the Victorian area at a place linked to mills (♪ Remember the maid ... the maid of the mill ...♪, TAB), disused for years, rebuilt and elevated, named, renamed ... until it was completed in 2009, the same year the Unaired Pilot was created. Well .... that sounds a bit ... familiar?

PERFUME AND TOBACCO ASHES

Appart from Sherlock’s cold case messages addressed to Jim Moriarty and two requests from - Kirsty Stapleton and Stephen Bainbridge - there are only two other entries on The Science of Deduction ... Sherlock’s own analysis about perfumes and tobacco ashes. Basically that’s about ... scent/smell and fire residues.

SCENT:  From Kasbah Nights to Claire de la Lune, perfumes play a significant role in this story and Sherlock is a true expert in smellig and recognizing the different brands. The first thing that comes to mind, related to the word ‘scent’ is a dog - more precisely a scent dog. One of the most prominent representatives of that breed is the Bloodhound. And it is well known that Sherlock Holmes is indeed compared to a blood hound in ACDs The Sign of Four. That same quote has been adopted in TEH (Sherlock the Bloodhound), it appears on John’s Blog and is read by Mary. But in Sherlock BBC the bloodhound isn’t only linked to Sherlock himself. The HOUND is also connected to John Watson, Jim Moriarty, Victor Trevor, Eurus and Redbeard the Irish Setter, also a scent dog.  

(The dogs in Sherlock’s mind palace  The bloodhound in his hands   Transformation of Redbeard  and the ‘Follow the dog’ series by @sagestreet​)

FIRE RESIDUES:  Sherlock has an extensive knowledge regarding tobacco ashes. This characteristic has also been taken from canon.

I have made a special study of cigar ashes—in fact, I have written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any known brand, either of cigar or of tobacco.  (ACD, A Study in Scarlet)

In TSOT drunken Sherlock proclaims loudly ‘Ash! I know ash!’  Almost the same words (‘I know human ash’) uses the guy from ASIB, whose aunt had been among the plane crash victims in Düsseldorf (’Sherlock Holmes baffled’). In the same episode Sherlock steals an ashtray from Buckingham Palace. In TEH Sherlock’s return from hiatus is underlined with at least half a dozen scetches of phoenixes, rising from the ashes, at the walls of the Landmark Restaurant. Another bird that has great resemblance with a phoenix can be found on Brenda’s gravestone at Musgrave Hall  (Among the funny gravestones).

Ash is the residue of a fire damage. Fire and burning is one of the main themes in Sherlock BBC. From Jim’s threat to burn Sherlock’s heart out to the gingerbread man burned to a crisp, from John’s Guy Fawkes bonfire to Sherlock’s admission ‘I’m burning up’, from the Baker Street living room in flames to the great fire at Musgrave Hall ... not to mention all the exploding or not quite expoding bombs throughout the show ... fire anf burning is never far away in this story.  

(Love is a burning thing   A case ablaze   Set this house on fire by @gosherlocked)

TOBACCO ASHES ... CHEMISTRY BURNED

Tobacco s the common name for plants belonging to the Nicotiana family. It contains the highly addictive stimulant nicotine. The dried leaves of the plant are mainly used for smoking in cigars, cigarettes, pipes, etc ... Nicotine is a widely used legal drug. The burning of tobacco results in smoke and the residue left behind is ash. Sherlock knows ash. Interestingly and unlike to canon, in this modern adaptation Sherlock doesn’t simply know ‘any known brand of cigar or tobacco ash’, he has analysed exactly 243 different types of those ashes and he explicitly corrects the number 240, cited by John. Is this seemingly unimportant correction just there to emphasise Sherlock’s annoyance over John’s mockery or is maybe another meaning hidden behind that corrected number?

243 ... ‘This is your living, Sherlock – not two hundred and forty different types of tobacco ash’ - ‘243!′

243 different types of tobacco ash are not Sherlock’s living. 243 different, tobacco products - burnt to ashes - are not Sherlock’s life.

As mentioned above, tobacco contains nicotine and nicotine is a drug. Viewing Sherlock BBC on a metaphorical level ... all drugs are chemistry and chemistry is love. The chemistry of love, burnt to ashes ... 243 times over. Hmmmm ....  Then an idea hit me and I asked Google a question:

This answer is from January 2020. The first official series of Sherlock BBC aired 2010 and the Unaired Pilot has been produced in 2009. I seem to recall that the first and the second series have been accepted by the BBC at the same time and since 2009 several more Sherlock Holmes adaptations have seen the light of day (Guy Ritchie Holmes, Elementary, New Russian Holmes, Miss Sherlock, Mr Holmes, Sherlock Gnomes, Holmes&Watson, Enola Holmes ... to name just a few). 

Could it be that the number of different tobacco ashes, analysed by Sherlock, mirrors the number of different adaptations about the famous detective? Sherlock Holmes ... reborn again and again with each adaptation, like a phoenix from the ashes, and yet he was never able to live a full life ... including emotions, love and sex?

‘All lives end. All hearts are broken’, that’s what Mycroft tells Sherlock in ASIB. Chemistry burned to ashes in an endless row. ‘So many days not lived, so many words unsaid’ ... says Eurus in TFP and referes to the coffin whose lid is adorned with a brass plate, I LOVE YOU, written on it  (A coffin for love). You are absolutely right  @loveismyrevolution with your idea of Sherlock standing between two ‘angels’ in that scene, although I would rather call them ‘choices’. Because this scene has great resemblance with the three solutions/choices Sherlock has to choose from after the event on Barth’s roof  (Solutions or choices). 

At that time Sherlock is confronted with two elemental forces ... love and sex. The one is represented by Molly (mirror for John) and the other one by Jim Moriarty, Mr Sex. Sherlock chooses neither one of the two. He backs away and walks a third path. He decides to live a celibate life - married to work - solely dedicated to reason and intellect, represented by Mycroft. That’s why he needs to create a strong facade to hide his true feelings for John. But then, unexpected and without noticing it at first (delayed action stabbing), even this facade gets ‘penetrated’ by John. Love (Rosie) is conceived and this changes everything. (Changing of the guard)

After the first shock (shot), Sherlock starts to go deeper into himself than ever before. He repeats the investigations about himself (the pink case) from a different perspective. Everything that happens in S4 reflects, in one way or another, occurances from S1-S3 ... arranged differently and some new actors are added. For example: the morgue-scene in TLD is a mirror of Sherlock’s fall in TRF ... it’s another Reichenbach. Eurus’ five tasks of Sherrinford seem to be a sort of ‘final distillate’ of Sherlock’s repeated analysis. In the coffin-scene Sherlock is once more confronted with a choice. This time though SEX is excluded. Sherlock has to choose between LOVE or BRAIN. And just as he did after the ‘first’ Reichenbach, Sherlock tries again to back away. At that stage though Eurus doesn’t let him. Sherlock’s emotions force him to go back to the very beginning, to find the truth. What that truth is and what consequences will come from it .... is still untold in this story, as I read it. There’s a final distillation but not a final solution at the end of S4.

“This is your living, Sherlock ... not 243 different types of tobacco ash” 

... says John, refering to his own Blog. But is this really the truth? The counter on John’s Blog stops at 1895 in ASIB and the text entry, read by Mary in TEH, is a quote from canon. Already in the first series, in TBB, Sherlock asks John - his blogger/biographer - to pass him the pen and near the end of S4, in TLD, John’s Blog has ‘gone a bit downhill’ and people actually think it's Sherlock’s Blog. This leaves the question: is Sherlock taking over the narrative of his own story now? What kind of story will it be? How will it end? Will Sherlock have to make a third choice in the future? A choice between Dr Watson, the ‘fixed point in a changing age’ and John Watson, who could be so much more than just an ‘eternal’ friend? After all, there are two Faiths in the story, two serial killers and Hamish (Jim, Mr Sex) hides right in the middle of John (H) Watson ... at the very centre of the web, one might say. 

Two times John    Pairs-Twins-DoubleOHs   Double OH seven Bond Air is go   The big question   and an excellent explanation of the idea about ‘Two-John’s’ in the comments on this post by @lukessense

Will Sherlock BBC turn out to be one more adaptation that ends as a ‘missed oportunity’ ... one more chemistry burned to ashes .... another sample of tobacco ash for Sherlock to analyse and add to his list? Or will it be different this time? Something new ... something big? Will it be the story about the emotional and sexual awakening of the literary character Sherlock Holmes? 

Only the future will tell ....

Thanks for reading and thanks @callie-ariane for the scripts.

February, 2021

[shinydelirium]

Kiro’s Rumors and Secrets: Discarded Light (Season 2 Chapters 6-9) Translation [CN]

***SPOILERS*** THIS POST CONTAINS HEAVY SPOILERS FOR CONTENT NOT YET RELEASED ON EN SERVER!!! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!!***

So I lied when I said I was gonna translate and post Kiro’s Season 2 chapter 12, lol. But rest assured, it will be next. Just wanted to include this R&S after translating chapter 8-9 to provide some more insight into Kiro’s character from an outsider’s perspective. Although it’s also a pathetic excuse to delay the chapter 12 translation cuz I know it’s gonna hurt just as much as the first time I read it T_T

Anyways, enjoy~

This “superstar” is always beyond everyone’s expectations.

[Chapter 1]

The giant, reinforced concrete extends high into the sky, and the spotlessly wiped glass reflects the neon and dilapidated crescent moon in the distance.

Ah Liu perched on the top of the building, aiming at the silent building opposite him.

Soon, the 8 o’clock bell and a sound in his earphones rang at the same time.

“It’s time to start.”

Ah Liu tightened the rope harness, confirmed the safety of the landing point, and jumped down into the bottomless abyss between the two buildings.

Ah Liu is a bartender, a kind of superficial meaning.

Although he is indeed employed by the owner of Mondlicht bar, his work is not just about bartending and wiping glasses.

“A guest will come in the afternoon, and you will be in charge of collecting it.”

In the bar, the man behind the counter hummed a small tune and placed the wine glasses on the shelf as usual, attached to the task at hand without raising his head.

Ah Liu nodded and when he got up, he heard the man add another sentence.

“This time it’s a long-term big deal. The employer’s status is a bit special, so be more cautious.”

Ah Liu has done many assignments, but the boss reminded him as if this is first time.

This means that the employer is really not good at talking.

The owner threw a report from the counter. Ah Liu took it and looked up in surprise after a few glances.

“What is this person?”

The owner knew what he was thinking, and smiled amusingly.

“When you see him, you will know how kind and compassionate my reminder is.”

Ah Liu put the file on the table suspiciously. The knife in his hand gave off a silver light, feeling a bit funny.

The man on the file has brilliant blonde hair and his blue eyes seem to reflect a clear lake along with a pure smile.

Even Ah Liu, who doesn’t know the entertainment industry at all, knows the person in the photo.

Kiro, the most sought-after superstar of the Inverted Smile Film and Television Company.

His smile appeared on the electronic screens in the streets and alleys as well as on the packaging bags of the new potato chips in the convenience store, making it difficult to miss for anyone who passed by.

Why would such a person who stands at the top, shining and dazzling, pay a big price for a piece of information?

Ah Liu glanced at the file. The paper listed the employer’s request and the price.

The price is irresistible, and the request is worthy of this astronomical price that is suffixed with many zeros.

“The work content of other people has already been arranged, so please prepare.”

Ah Liu made a rough estimate of the time and energy required to take this big arrangement, and then thought about his fortune, and neatly put the file into his pocket.

“It seems that for a long time, we have to work for this Mr. Kiro.”

Soon the appointed time arrives.

When the door of the bar was pushed open, Ah Liu involuntarily glances over.

The person who came in wore a black hat and was dressed up very simply. He walked straight to the bar, threw an envelope to the owner, and then reached out and took off the hat, revealing his golden hair.

“As agreed before.”

He said the words briefly, as if he didn’t want to say more.

If he hadn’t already known his identity, Ah Liu felt that the star’s temperament at the moment was more suitable for this bar than him.

The owner nodded, put away the envelope, and raised his chin towards Ah Liu.

Ah Liu leaned against the bar, turned the knife in his right hand, raised his eyebrows at the guest in front of him and said hello.

In fact, generally speaking, the attitude towards guests should be a little more polite, but Ah Liu was inexplicably teasing. Perhaps because of the other person, or perhaps he was just curious about the true appearance of the superstar hidden under his handsome face.

However, Kiro’s expression was plain and straightforward.

“My request, you should know everything.”

It was completely different from the reaction he expected. Ah Liu pulled back his shoulders and put away his knife.

“Almost. Although it’s a bit tricky, it can be done.”

It was probably the first time Kiro saw someone who dared to speak so directly. He raised his eyes and reminded him not to be serious.

“Think carefully, don’t accept the task so quickly.”

“We are in this business, and we have to do it to the end after receiving the customer’s order. Although this task is not my responsibility alone, but since it’s within the scope of my work, I will definitely do it for you.”

Ah Liu was frank and extended his hand towards Kiro.

“I will follow you in the future.”

Probably out of respect, Kiro held the hand that was stretched out, but that’s all. He didn’t seem to want any contact other than trading with the person in front of him.

“How it’s done, I will tell you later.”

After he said this, he didn’t stay any longer, so he turned and left the bar.

“Why did you find this star? He’s a bit different from what I thought.”

Ah Liu turned around, tapped his index finger on the table, making a clicking sound.

The owner slowly handed him a glass of wine and smiled meaningfully.

“He’s really not any ordinary star.”

“As for what kind of person, you will know soon enough.”

[Chapter 2]

Ah Liu is a practitioner with a sense of professional ethics.

Although he found it very difficult to understand the employer’s, Kiro’s, request, he paid enough for Ah Liu to add ingredients to the menu shamelessly. While eating instant noodles, he made preparations very rigorously.

When Ah Liu completed all the preparations, Kiro also came as scheduled, with a laptop computer.

Ah Liu didn’t think Kiro could help him with his work, but half an hour later, his impression of Kiro was completely overturned.

Kiro asked for some relevant information, then turned on the computer with familiarity, tapping the keyboard quickly with his fingers.

Soon, lines of complex codes flashed across the screen like some kind of fluorescent green tide with special beauty.

Ah Liu stared at Kiro’s movements dumbfounded and couldn’t help but utter a hometown dialect.

“Yo, how are you so good?”

Ah Liu knows that when employers choose a place like theirs, it means that they need to deliver a little more or less of their own secrets and trust.

But….it’s already hard being a star right now, do you have to have to work part-time on the side too?

The security system on the screen was easily hacked, and the red warning turned into a green traffic sign. Kiro stopped typing until he locked a certain area on the outskirts of Loveland City.

“Found it.”

He stretched his waist and habitually reached near the computer as if looking for something to drink.

When he didn’t feel anything he gave a soft “huh”. His extended hand stiffened for a second, and then quickly retracted it, speaking nonchalantly.

“I have locked a few addresses that appear to have logged in to the server, but the specific locations need to confirmed.”

“How is it on your end?”

Although shocked by Kiro’s hacking skills, Ah Liu did not forget his work, and pointed to the surveillance screen in front of him.

“The monitoring software is installed, but there is no movement yet.”

“I suggest waiting for another two or three days to take a look.”

Kiro nodded, put away the computer, put on his hat and mask, and left quietly.

Ah Liu stood up, moved his shoulders and inadvertently walked towards the window.

Next to a vending machine on the corner downstairs, Kiro, wearing a black hood, was bending over to drop coins and soon a bottle of green soda rolled out.

He was a little far away, but Ah Liu still saw the drink clearly.

The green apple flavor is very high in sugar, and young girls are unwilling to buy it, so they are always not able to be sold.

Kiro finished drinking in one breath. His eyes raised slightly, showing a satisfied look. He threw the plastic bottle into the trash can briskly, then turned and left.

Ah Liu once again became curious about Kiro.

[Chapter 3]

He didn’t meet Kiro again until a long time later.

During this period, Kiro did not take the initiative to contact Ah Liu, and he has been diligently monitoring the marked area while waiting for Kiro’s news.

The days of waiting were a bit boring. It wasn’t until one time, on the convenience store TV news that Ah Liu learned that Kiro was involved in a “wounding incident” and revealed his identity as an Evolver.

Ah Liu slurped the instant noodles. On TV, Kiro looked directly at the camera and generously admitted his hidden identity.

He swallowed the instant noodles, wondering what he was doing.

Although he didn’t have much contact with Kiro, he knew very well—this person would not be so reckless and willful, and that he might have his own reasons behind this incident.

After that, a while later, Kiro’s company also underwent some trouble, and he himself claimed to retreat for creation purposes.

In the silence, Ah Liu disassembled and reassembled the pistol bought from the black market in the dark. The screen beside the pistol showed clues that he finally tracked down.

Hunter game.

It’s time to contact his employer, he thought.

In the dark, the cheerful and broad bells rang—

The so-called hunter game, even though Ah Liu never heard of it before, Kiro specifically called him to investigate since it was also related to what they had checked before. Naturally, Ah Liu concentrated all his time and energy into it.

When following Kiro’s clues, he slowly became more aware that there was a behemoth showing his minions in the darkness.

But it paid off, and finally someone bit the hook that had been cast before.

Ah Liu stuffed a pistol into his waist, holding his cell phone, and dialed Kiro.

The phone picked up after a few rings.

“What’s up?”

“I found a building where the other party had been active. I’m going to explore it tonight. If I’m lucky, I might find something.”

Kiro on the other end paused for a moment, inhaled and quickly stopped talking.

It seemed that Kiro was not the only person on the phone. Ah Liu vaguely heard another person speaking to Kiro and his voice rose naturally.

“Savin, I’m really not stealing snacks. If you don’t believe me, then come and see for yourself.”

“Hey—wait, come back later. Now I’m bitter. As soon as you interrupted, the melody of my new song is gone.

“I never told anyone that you hid my three boxes of snacks and two refrigerators of carbonated drinks. So inhumane….”

The voice gradually became quieter, and it was probably the person named “Savin” who finally left Kiro alone.

Ah Liu felt that Kiro was really weird.

Obviously, he has the warmth of light that ordinary people can’t touch, but he had to turn around and go to the darkness.

He wanted to ask why, but held back.

Employers have their own secrets to some extent. Keeping to their duties and not asking too much is the best way to stay out of this circle.

After a while, Kiro’s calm voice came from the phone again.

“Send me the address and I’ll find you.”

“I’m fine by myself. You don’t trust me when I say this?”

Ah Liu felt that Kiro didn’t trust his capability. He repeatedly emphasized that his business potential was very good. His performance ranking has been ranked first.

But Kiro still insisted on working with him and Ah Liu couldn’t help but send Kiro the location of the building.

[Chapter 4]

Under the endless night sky, Ah Liu received Kiro’s signal.

He stood up and flung himself into the opposite building with the help of the rope. After he rolled into the room and came to a stop, Ah Liu suddenly held his breath.

There were no clues left as expected. The whole room was empty. The huge glass windows were opened and the cold moonlight showed the man’s brilliant blond hair and the timed explosive device in front of him.

“Was it successful?”

“It seems that someone expected this visit and left us a gift.”

Kiro’s expression was very calm but when Ah Liu saw the detonator under his feet, he couldn’t help sucking in a cold breath.

Kiro seemed to be indifferent, tapping quickly with both hands on the computer and laughed coolly.

“Although the internal structure is complicated, it is still flawed…”

“How long will it take?”

‘Five minutes.”

Ah Liu glanced at the time displayed on the screen and the countdown just reached five minutes.

“The risk is too great.”

Ah Liu crouched down, took out a wire from the portable tool bag beside him and gently inserted it into the bomb.

“Leave it to me, it will be done in a minute.”

He specializes in surgery. Ah Liu is best at disassembling and reassembling various complicated equipment. He moves cautiously.

Kiro didn’t say anything, he stopped hacking and switched to another interface.

There is nothing in this world that can come and go without a trace. No one can be completely invisible.

The ability of top hackers is to dig out some seemingly and completely irrelevant content from the vast data stream, and continue to piece together and combine them until they restore the trajectory of something generated, assembled, grown, and disbanded.

Every day, the flood of information carries everyone’s joy, anger, and sorrow, surging through the city and no one can stay out of the matter.

The people who had been in this room carefully avoided all information channels, but it was precisely this carelessness that allowed Kiro to find their exact address.

The computer snapped shut and Kiro briefly breathed out. At this time, Ah Liu also successfully analyzed the data of the detonator and shut it down perfectly.

“It’s done.”

Ah Liu stood up and looked at Kiro.

“What are you going to do with this thing? Take it away or keep it here?

“Since they gave such a ‘big gift’, how about a ‘return gift’?”

Kiro turned and walked towards the door hidden in the dark. Ah Liu picked up the device that had turned into a pile of scraps on the ground, and walked to catch up with Kiro.

After coming out of the building, Ah Liu stopped when he passed a small alley.

“Hold up.”

He shouted to Kiro and dropped a few coins into a battered vending machine.

With two crisp ‘plops’, accompanied by mechanical electronic sounds, two cyan bottles of carbonated drinks were held by Ah Liu.

He handed Kiro a bottle but didn’t move to take it. His voice was a little cold.

“I don’t like being spied on by others.”

Ah Liu laughed a few times, trying to pat Kiro’s shoulder, but was subtly averted. He didn’t feel embarrassed, so he touched his head instead.

“Shouldn’t a celebrity be used to being watched by others?”

Probably when he was immersed in darkness, no one would exactly associate him with the dazzling star on stage.

Kiro froze for a moment, then took the carbonated drink from Ah Liu’s hand.

“By the way, when the device was dismantled, how could you be sure that I could do it? Weren’t you afraid we would all be blown up?”

The person in front of him showed a slight smile. Although it was shallow, it was indeed Kiro’s smile.

At this moment, he seemed to be covered with light and shadow, and the sun and moon were equally magnificent.

“It was just a gamble.”

“It turned out that I was right.”

He finished his drink in one breath and walked around the corner with his hands in his pockets.

Ah Liu suddenly felt that Kiro was very interesting. If he worked with him, he would probably gain a lot of things that he hadn’t encountered before.

Thrilling enough, but also exciting.

For men, true friends should be like this.

In the bottom of his heart, he listed Kiro as a friend who had already had a “friend for life and death”, so he shouted to him.

“I’ll study the internal structure of the device when I go back. I’ll tell you the results but it will take several days.”

The person in the distance did not answer and disappeared into the depths of the night.

[Chapter 5]

It took a lot of effort to crack the device, and several days had passed by the time Ah Liu got all the analytical data.

Kiro sent the other party’s real server address. Following this clue and the special materials of the installation, Ah Liu has been busy for a long time. He also managed to get a sense of the so-called “Hunter Game” in his mind.

At this moment, perhaps somewhere in this world, a silent survival game is being staged.

Although he is used to fighting and killing, the nature of the incident is completely different. He feels it is necessary to tell Kiro immediately.

But the phone call couldn’t get through.

After waiting for a while at Mondlicht, Ah Liu got up and decided to go directly to Kiro.

One minute late, one more minute for risk of exposure.

However, Kiro had a deal with him, and the less people knew, the better. Instead of alerting the security guard, Ah Liu walked to the gate of the backyard with his waist bent.

The security system of the gate is complicated and difficult to understand.

When Ah Liu was scratching his head to study how to crack it, he suddenly heard Kiro’s voice.

He was sitting cross-legged in the yard with a mobile phone, a golden retriever in front of him.

Not knowing what the person on the other end said, Kiro spoke briskly, with a smile that could not be contained:

“Wait for me to show you the mushrooms I’ve grown these days! This one on top of my head is new!”

“I wrote a song at home these last few days and I will send it to you when I make the demo.”

“When the ban is lifted in a few days, I must have a big meal!”

“Do you have anything you want to eat?”

……

He naturally exudes the aura of a “little sun”. The grand light not only comes from Kiro, but it also seems to come from the person on the other end of the phone.

It turned out to be so, Ah Liu suddenly realized.

He has always wondered why Kiro had so many contradictory points, but the bright star walks in the dark, intersecting with people of his identity.

Now he found the answer.

Because even the stars that live above the clouds have a future that they want to gaze at and protect forever.

Suddenly, there was a shattering sound—

Ah Liu looked forward immediately. He didn’t know what was said on the phone. Kiro stood up instantly, holding the phone tightly, his eyes were full of fear and anger.

Next to him was a glass that has been broken into pieces.

This was the first time Ah Liu saw this look on Kiro’s face.

He seemed to have noticed something and without hesitation, he pushed aside the branches of the tree and walked straight out.

Since seeing Kiro’s first side, Ah Liu has not been accurate in all of Kiro’s predictions. But this time, he confidently wants to try again and he has a hunch that he will not be wrong.

And that is—

Kiro is a person worthy of his trust.

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 1

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: I’m so excited for you all to read this story! Special thanks go to Lynn (@mindless--ramblings​​) for always being so supportive and helping me stay inspired! Ever since I found out Pedro now has two characters named Marcus, I’ve wondered about ways I could connect them in one piece of writing. And this? This is that piece of writing. Moreno won’t be making an appearance in this one, but I hope Pike will make up for that 😉 Enjoy!

Ground floor.

First floor.

Second.

Erin He took a deep breath, thankful that the elevator was empty. She straightened the collar of her shirt as the fourth floor approached. At her side was her government-issued laptop, which she’d picked up from the front desk. Her fingers gripped its edges tightly. This was it. She made it.

The elevator let out a soft ding and opened its doors, revealing a floor of cubicles and conference rooms. Austin sunlight filtered through large windows, illuminating the space alongside the bright fluorescent lights.

She stepped out, searching for the art theft department’s main office. As much as she understood the need for technology specialists across all the FBI’s branches, she never quite grasped why she was placed in the art theft department, of all places. She always thought she’d be in the operational technologies department, developing and maintaining tools for others to use. Though she couldn’t blame them; intellectual property was highly valued and often stolen.

The email said to report to the department supervisor’s office for a quick onboarding, but they didn’t exactly mention what it would be. It could’ve been anything from a quick handshake to being told to shadow a coworker. Hopefully the former.

Part of her begged to the gods of computer science that she wouldn’t be assigned to yet another condescending old white man. Her last welcome at a company had been less than mediocre, and lukewarm at best.

The other part of her nagged that she’d signed up for exactly that.

“Ah, there you are. Welcome to your first day, Special Agent He,” the department supervisor–Harold Strauss–greeted as she entered his office. He gestured to the man standing in front of his desk. “This is Agent Marcus Pike. He will be showing you the ropes today.”

Agent Pike looked at her over his shoulder, the corners of his lips curling in a friendly smile. He couldn’t have been much older than her, with his faint smile lines and soft brown hair. He tucked his hands into his pockets and turned around to face her.

“Thank you, sir,” she replied. She shook his hand and then extended her hand to Pike. “Nice to meet you. Thanks for taking time out of your day to show me around.”

“Likewise,” he replied, shaking her hand. His brown eyes sparkled as he proposed, “Should we start? I have a meeting in about half an hour, and I’m sure you’ll want to meet some of our operational techs and digital forensics team. They’re the backbone of everything we do here.”

They acknowledged their supervisor once more and then left to begin the tour.

As her personal guide gave her the rundown of the floor’s organization and workflow, Erin couldn’t help but sneak a couple more glances at him.

He was taller than her by a few inches, but not in such a way that she felt like shrinking into herself. And he always stayed at her side, never walking ahead or lagging behind. His strong jaw led her gaze to a pair of soft lips, which seemed to be in a perpetual smile as he talked about the breakthroughs the department had in the past days.

“Do you know where your desk is?” Pike asked.

“Yeah, they told me the other day,” she answered, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ears. They walked over to her assigned desk, which was barren save for a standard computer, box of pens, and notepad. “If you’re going to ask if I need help with setup, I think I should be alright for now. Nothing a few installations and linux commands can’t fix.”

He chuckled softly and nodded. “You’re living up to your title, Agent He. If I’m being honest, I don’t think I could’ve been much help even if I offered. Have you done work similar to this before?”

She shrugged. “I worked in cybersecurity and software development,” Erin replied, setting down her bag and laptop on her desk. Slipping off her black blazer, she continued, “But I figured I should do something more than just build products for tech companies. Use my skills to aid in investigations.”

He nodded in understanding. “I see what you mean. Actually, I was originally studying to be an art history professor. But then I found this job and figured I could use my knowledge to help find and preserve artworks.”

Hm, noble.

“Sounds like we aren’t so different,” she observed, following him across the officespace. “Let’s hope that I can be of help around here.”

He chuckled softly, the dimple in his cheek showing as he smiled. “I think you’ll fit right in.”

---

The words on the screen blurred into the white background of the screen, as if they were mocking her. Each line of test slowly lost its meaning, turning into mind-numbing strings.

Erin pushed her computer away and rubbed her eyes defeatedly, sighing. The department was launching an investigation regarding a museum that was broken into and wiped clean. What little data was left on the computers, from what she gathered after hours of poring over them, was largely useless. Hopefully, one of the other agents would find something helpful in the other remnants. Perhaps an address, or some sort of signature that could be traced to a group. Her, on the other hand? She just wasted hours of work.

A steaming cup of coffee was set down onto her desk, along with some sugar and tiny cups of cream.

She looked up to find Marcus–Pike, she reminded herself–standing at her side, looking down at her with a soft smile. “Find anything?”

“Nope,” she sighed. It turned out that Pike was one of the best agents in the department, and that meant he spent most of his time leading and organizing investigations. What that meant for Erin, then, was that she had to answer to him. Thankfully, he was never weird about it. Quite the opposite, actually. Tapping the side of the cup, she asked, “Is this for me?”

He laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah! Sorry; I would’ve fixed it, but I wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee.”

“Well it’s nothing complex, if that’s what you’re nervous about,” she teased. Two sugars and a drizzle of cream turned the pitch black liquid into a deep brown. She took a sip, the placebo of caffeine already kicking in. “When you’re in STEM, you learn to appreciate caffeine in any form. But I like it like this.”

“Noted,” he said, his voice a soft timbre amongst the flutter of papers and clacking of keys. Hands resting on his hips he asked, “How long do you think it’ll be before you find anything?”

“Anywhere from an hour to another three...or five,” she sighed, lazily scrolling down the file. Basking in the steam from her cup, she continued, “I’m gonna need a lot more of this coffee. There has to be something useful in this file, I just need to find it. I might need to cross-reference with some of the other evidence to notice anything.”

A headache was already descending upon her, and she was only six hours in. Weak–she’d stared at a computer much longer without any problem many times before. Why, of all times, did it have to happen when she was talking to her coworker?

“Well, I’ll be here pretty late tonight, so if you need anything, just let me know,” he replied, patting her shoulder. The crease between his brows deepened as he squinted down at the screen. “Maybe you need a fresh set of eyes on it. Take a break, Erin.” At her responding pout, he reasoned, “It’s been almost a month and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you rest.”

Of course he noticed her breaks, or lack thereof. She rolled her eyes, hiding a bashful smile in her cup. “I work best in sprints.”

He hummed amusedly. “But even sprinters need breaks, don’t they?” Then, his eyes lit up. “Actually, why don’t you take a break now?”

Erin raised a brow. “Am I not taking a break right now?”

His laugh was warm. “I mean a real break. Let’s get lunch; my treat.”

“Are you really going to make me choose between food and digital forensics, Agent Pike?”

Nodding definitively, he replied, “Yes, Agent He.”

Unable to resist the prospect of free lunch, she gave in and followed him out to his car. The work would still be there when she returned. For the moment, she could just enjoy Marcus’s companionship.

He drove out to a local diner about ten minutes away, his turns confident as if he’d gone there hundreds of times before. Judging by the way his eyes had sparked with joy at her agreement, he probably had.

They let their shoulders relax in the serenity of the car, shedding the formalities and passing time as if they were close friends.

The diner was small and cozy, booths worn with age and serving breakfast all day. Erin’s lips curled up in a little smile as the hostess recognized Marcus. So he was a regular, after all.

They sat down across from each other in a booth. Erin shrugged off her navy blue blazer and smoothed her dark hair back into a thick ponytail.

As she fixed her hair, Marcus gave her his recommendations, leaning in with the menu so she could follow along with her eyes. He seemed particularly fond of the pancakes, so she decided on those. Surely he wouldn’t lead her astray.

And with the way his voice rasped just slightly, she could listen to him speak for a whole day.

“Honey? Did you hear anything I said?” he asked, tilting his head slightly with a little smirk.

Erin snapped out of her reverie, cheeks burning. “Oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, I spaced out for a bit.”

“No worries, it happens to all of us,” he reassured, laying the menu flat on the table. “What were you thinking about?”

Less than an hour had passed before they were back in the office, stepping out of the elevator with full bellies. The familiar clicking from computers and buzz of conversations filled the air, and they were officially agents again.

Erin turned to him and nudged his arm. “Hey, thanks for the break.”

“Anytime,” he replied, walking with her along the perimeter of the room. They stopped at the hallway leading to the conference rooms and offices. His large hand moved to rest on her arm, his thumb rubbing gently. “I guess this is my stop. You know where to find me.”

“And you know where I’ll be.”

The next day, Marcus was greeted in his office by tupperwares containing homemade fried rice, some cut up fruit, and a sticky note.

Thanks for sticking with me yesterday. -E

The corners of his eyes crinkled as he tried to refrain from grinning like a maniac, though he was sure anyone who happened to pass by would’ve thought he looked like a schoolgirl with a crush. Erin’s handwriting was soft and curved, so similar to calligraphy but simple in a way that made the note feel that much more intimate.

She had an interesting way of showing her care for others, he found. Perhaps it was a byproduct of the work she dedicated her life to; she seemed to always be one step ahead, ready to pull out small details that others would dismiss. He wondered what she might know of him.

There were a few things she clearly knew; things that surprised him every day. Just as he’d learned her usual coffee order, she’d learned his. When he’d walk in every morning, her head of dark hair would tilt to peek over her cubicle, as if she could sense his presence. And when their eyes would meet, her smile was better than the best espresso in the world.

Marcus shook his head to himself as his heart fluttered. Years of failed relationships and a divorce later, he still couldn’t keep his feelings in check. His mother always said he had a soft heart, one that would be his greatest strength and his greatest weakness. But Erin was anything but a weakness.

She wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. A constant in his life, making each day feel just a little more special. He didn’t need a relationship to be happy, but….he wouldn’t be opposed to one either.

Yet, as he spotted Ian Malarkey standing a bit too close to her, he forced himself to backtrack. What if she didn’t want him? What if they were meant to be just as they were: just friends?

Maybe it was time for him to move on.

After a few months, their friendship had grown well past a workplace acquaintance. It wasn’t as if she was trying to get attached to him; it just...happened. And it was only a little surprising to her; she tried to stay as professional as she could in the office, but outside? Outside, she could just be Erin, not FBI Special Agent He. Outside, she could shed her jacket and swap the button-down shirt for a ribbed sweater and some jeans. Outside, she and Marcus could sit as close together as they wanted without drawing unwanted attention.

She knew it was silly to fantasize. After all, Marcus was a coworker, if not a superior. And with the way he fussed over her water intake and made sure that she wore her glasses at the right times, he could easily see her as a little sister. As nothing more than a new agent who happened to be friendly.

But if that were true, why would he go through the effort of bringing her lunch on Thursdays? Why did he call her little names like “honeydew” and “sweetheart,” and why did it feel so natural coming from his mouth?

The commotion coming from the direction of the conference rooms told her that the team was back from the investigation. Maybe Marcus was there; she knew he’d gone, but he hadn’t texted since morning. It wouldn’t hurt to pop in to check on him; he did that often enough with her.

When she entered the break room, her heart sank. Sitting off to the side, by the wall, was Marcus asking Teresa Lisbon out on a date. She wasn’t sure why she felt defeated;  it wasn’t like she had any plans on asking him out.

But then why did it hurt her to the core to see him giving those puppy eyes and little smiles to Lisbon? The woman didn’t even look interested in him; if anything, she looked confused and hesitant.

Ian caught her eye as she surveyed the room once more, his lips pulling into a tight-lipped smile. He knew about her feelings for Marcus, having spent hours going over evidence and making small talk. In fact, he’d even encouraged her to tell Marcus her feelings, out of fear that she might never get the chance.

Perhaps her chance had passed after all. Turning on her heel, Erin decided that, for once, it was time to go home. Marcus would come to her when he was less busy.

The thing was, though, she didn’t want to go home. She wanted to go over and say hello, and check to make sure he wasn’t injured in the scuffle. Moreover, she didn’t want to be a fill-in for Lisbon’s absence. She didn’t want to be his second choice. And she knew it wasn’t her fault, nor Lisbon’s, that Marcus didn’t choose her. But it still stung.

She watched as their shared lunches became less frequent, the senior agent replacing her space by Marcus’s side. When the elevator would ding at 7AM and she’d glance up to see if it was him, she found him searching the room for Lisbon. They never drifted over to her desk. That fact always made her grip her pen just a little tighter.

On the days when he did grace her with his presence, she felt like a tornado of emotions.

Happy, because she had missed her best friend.

Sad, because she knew the next time she’d spend time with him was in a few weeks rather than a few days.

Grateful, because she knew how hard it was to socialize after a work week of at least 50 hours.

Envious, because of the stories he told.

Relieved, because he still cared.

Plastering a halfhearted smile on her face, Erin listened to Marcus practically worship his girlfriend. His summer breeze of a smile and sparkling eyes made the pain that came with listening worth it. The only other time she’d heard him talk that passionately was when they’d visited an art museum.

At least one of them was happy.

She thought of trying to date again; it had been over a year since she’d been in a relationship. But she couldn’t do it. More than once, she’d put on some simple makeup and casual clothes, ready to head out to the bar, but no. She couldn’t bring herself to leave the apartment. The apartment was where she and Marcus watched movies, where she would cut up fruit and bring them to him on a plate while he pored over reports in the warm lights of the kitchen. It was where he’d navigate her cupboards and fridge to make her a mug of his special hot chocolate. It was her safe space, the one place in her life where she could just be Erin, and he could just be Marcus.

The knife cleaved the melon in half with ease, revealing its pale green interior.

Marcus leaned up against the counter next to her, hair tousled and necktie loosened against his chest. He absentmindedly started rolling up his sleeves, undoing the cuffs of his shirt and folding them up.

She tried not to stare too long at the way his forearms tensed with the movement.

He broke the silence first. “I got the job in DC,” he said, voice soft like velvet.

“That’s great.” A simple response, though Erin cringed internally. Was that any way to react to her best friend’s job promotion? Surely not, but a part of her–a selfish part of her–knew that it meant he was leaving. Leaving not just his position, but her. Texas. The apartment.

It would’ve been disingenuous for her to say anything more.

Then, he added, almost sheepishly, “I also asked Teresa to marry me. And move to DC so we can be together.”

The blade of her knife hit the cutting board a little harder than normal. “Oh. That’s nice.” Cutting away the tough outer skin, she forced herself to ask, “What did she say?”

He sighed and crossed his arms, biting his lip as if to contain a smile. “She said she’d think about it. But I think she’ll come around. I kind of, uh, sprung it onto her the other night.”

And yet there he was, standing next to a woman who would’ve been ready to say yes. But even so, she said, “I’m sure things will work out between you two. You’ve already given so much to your relationship; it would be a shame for her to not see how great you are.”

She slid him a bowl of perfectly cubed melon.

Smiling softly, he took the bowl into his hands. “You’re the best, honeydew.”

The best, but not the one.

“You’re just trying to get on my good side before you leave for DC, brown eyes,” she jested, nudging him with her elbow. Her chest filled with warmth at his laugh. She tried her best to hang onto that feeling, to that sound. “When are you two leaving?”

“I’m already about halfway packed,” he mused, chewing on a cube of honeydew thoughtfully. “So maybe within the week? I hope that’s enough time for Teresa to make a decision.”

There was less time than she thought. She hummed softly. “Are you sure that’s what she wants? That it’s what you want?”

He nodded confidently. “Yes, I...I know that I don’t have the best track record with relationships, but something about her feels right.” The bowl was set into the sink and filled with water. “I’m happy, honey. You don’t have to worry.”

Erin’s eyes burned as she quietly replied, “Okay.”

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[jjba-hell]

Revoked

Still late for day 2 but I am enjoying the hell out of these prompts. (Today’s prompt was sci-fi)

Trigger warnings for the death of the ice cream gays but lemme know if I missed anything else.

Summary: a weird mismatched team of busted up aliens and half-blood humans just dealing with some shit.

For the lovely: @lasquadraweek2021

“You should really just transfer to a new body Pros. Humans aren’t supposed to live this long, babe.”

You grumble probably more to yourself than to the man whose forearm you were tinkering in. Well... maybe tinkering wasn’t the word either. He needed another repair and honestly you can’t help but feel like Risotto only offered you the air-mattress in the ship because so many of these psychos have bio-tech they can’t afford to upkeep.

“Sure, I can’t afford a rewire but I can surely afford getting my brain transplanted in a new body.”

“Human bodies are so easy to grow though.” You peer up at him over your magnify glasses with a wriggle of eyebrows. “Fully grown in a quarter rotation? Come on I still have to wait another half rotation to buy a swimsuit let alone grow a body.”

Prosciutto flexed the hand you were working on to spite you but all you did was strap the wrist down and switch off the impulse circuit before getting up and walking toward the exit of the ship where the others were sprawled out in the soft baby blue grass of the planet you were hiding out at.

Melone’s gaze shot from laptop up as you kicked your untied boots from your feet and slid into the grass, barely hearing him as he asked “Any luck with Pros’s arm?”

“I can’t keep mending the same two wires that keep popping off. Its best we find a place that can handle Babyface’s software and get a new one.”

“Still not budging for just replacing the whole thing?” Formaggio asked from somewhere across the clearing.

Like he was one to talk- Akils like him grew back heads and limbs, there wasn’t exactly a need to know anything about biotech.

“Nope. Are all humans this stubborn?”

“I think its the half Megnu in him.” Illuso was the one to chirp in this time.

“That’s still not confirmed.” You sat back on your feet to try and spot your teammates.

“Well he won’t let me analyze.” Melone sighed- continuing to worry away at the clear glass screen that held all his designs.

Melone truly was a bit of a madman to you- he designed the entirety of his body on that simple glass tablet and yet couldn’t finish his face in time before the feds were on him for unethical medical practice- ironic considering he was only putting himself through the strain of fitting his brain into a piece of machinery. What his official titles were in his old field were beyond you.

“Pesci’s not all Scud and he’s not half as stubborn.” You commented and with a soft hum the team fell back into silence.

“Where’s Ris?”

“He’s in bed- that last jump took a toll on him.” Illuso finally rose up from the grass himself heading a bit further away from the clearing, probably wandering after Ghiacchio who was asked to take a lap after he froze off Formaggio’s finger.

You clambered up a few steps to find your captain with the old-fashioned two-way radio in his hand as he lay passed out on couch of the shared living room.

Risotto would rather be caught dead than caught like this so, with intent, you stepped up to take the radio out of his hand. He seemed to gently wake at your fingers prying the piece or equipment from his hand.

“Shit.” He grumbled. “How long-?”

“Ghiacchio’s not even back from his lap- don’t worry. Just head off before they catch you.”

And with a slight groan he rolled up and disappeared down the hallways to his bunk which sounded with an ungraceful “clunk” as he fell into the bed.

Your name got hollered with the slightest tone of desperation from Prosciutto and with that you were back doing your part in the team behind the scene.

“You’re a purebred?” Prosciutto had eventually asked after a few minutes of boredom at watching you weld wires back to the motherboard.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “What am I? A dog?”

He seemed to swallow his words.

“Where do you think I’m from?” You tried to smooth it over.

“Caestea- at least your appearance would have you look like that.”

Another laugh. “I’m from Earth, Pros.”

His eyes widened. “Impossible.”

“Oh yeah. My parents weren’t exactly refugees but they are most certainly not human. Fuck knows what my genetic makeup looks like but thankfully I certainly age like a Caestean. You are all human, huh?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Not that there are many of us left.”

In a sense you felt bad for him. You’d seen photos of Earth long before it started to mimic its brother planet Mars but you rarely thought of how wickedly the planet must have lost its life before intergalactic intervention. Humans were strangely scared and selfish creatures but no one deserved to die because there was no clean water to drink.

You shook off the macabre though before closing up Pros’s arm and putting away the tools. “That should do for now but we really do need to think of a replacement in the near future.”

“Thanks.”

It was a half-assed thank you but it surely caught your attention. Pros was a little too prideful to give just anyone a thanks but nonetheless you returned the sentiment. “No problem.”

Outside the boys were fighting again- or rather Ghiacchio was arguing as Formaggio was pushing his buttons while Pesci grilled a rather obscenely colorful fish over the fire-in-tin.

“Oh just the person we needed to see.”

Getting clasped with two arms over the neck was bad enough but from Sorbet and Gelato, now that was trouble waiting to start.

“Oh gods, what do I have to offer this time.”

“Don’t be so serious!” Sorbet cooed darkly.

“We were just hoping you could help us out with the next target.” His boyfriend added.

If you could just roll your eyes back far enough.

“Wandering off from our captain’s orders doesn’t sound like something I’d want to get myself involved in.”

“Not even for a bionic manufacturer?”

“Or a healing bay, for the ship? Surely you could install those things no problem.”

Honestly it was hard not to fall for the stereotype that all Makzi’s do is play dirty and haggle like merchants but here you were, stuck between them and being tempted into breaking formation with them.

“And what would I have to lose?”

“Nothing much-“

“Maybe some face with Risotto.”

You couldn’t help but scoff. “You want me to convince him?”

“Exactly- he might actually consider something if it came out of your pretty mouth.”

“Or rather, if he could come in it.”

You took one step back and bowed out of the hold between the two of them. “Fucking sleezes. Your shit’s gonna get you killed, mark my words.”

“So its a no?”

“Its a fuck no, Sorbet. Vile comments aside, that shit is expensive, even dent-jobs sell for millions... that kind of money is too big a job for us to handle right now and stealing one even more. Get your heads out of your asses before you come up to me with more dumb shit, next time.”

And with that you slipped back beside Illuso as Pesci was grilling up the third fish for the night. Looking back at what you had said was not untrue. That night you were restless in your bunker above Formaggio- Illuso peering behind the sliding divider across the little hallway that ran between the bed bunks.

“Something on your conscience?”

“No.”

“You sure?” You nearly leapt out of skin as Formaggio’s forehead popped up just below your chin outside your divider. “You’ve turned and kicked like 10 times, babe.”

“Please don’t babe me.” You frown at him but you answered the gnawing feeling by asking. “Where are Sorbet and Gelato?”

“Probably in their bed.” Illuso answered as if there wasn’t a more logical answer.

“Wanna put money on it?” Your eyebrow raised.

“And catch them in the act? Daaamn you’re dirtier than I thought.”

“Come on then, 10 drinks at the next stop they’re not in their bunk.”

“Shit, I can’t miss on that opportunity.” Formaggio’s divider slid open all the way to allow him to plop with bare feet to the double bunks at the end of the hallway.” You and Illuso watched in trepidation as he knelt down and knocked. There was no answer save for Risotto’s stern frown behind the top divider making an appearance. “What do you want?”

“Are Sorbet and Gelato in there?” You piped up first.

The angry frown turned into concern as he slid out of his bunk to replace where Formaggio was. He slid the door open to reveal one big empty bed.

What you’d have given to be wrong. But instead the panic bit you all and soon you were messily slipping on boots and running around the ship to find the missing lovers.

Pesci checked the engine compartments he might have accidentally left open, Pros checked the storage while Risotto was seeing if he could track them on the radar. It was only when you were hoisted onto the roof by Formaggio that the dread set into your bones.

“Tell Ris to switch on the overhead console lights.”

You called back down below you. Part of you wished you didn’t... since all it did was put them on display.

It was a vile thing that made Risotto’s eyes grow darker than they already were and once dawn broke, you and Melone quietly put the bodies into the best makeshift body bags you could manage. The lake a few paces away was where you last saw those body bags.

After you left that pit stop you sat in silence in the communal meeting area, your legs flung over one of the armrests in your seat- staring blankly at the coffee table you’d nipped from a market not too long ago.

“So... what’s the plan?”

You asked at anyone who would listen.

“Do we go on as usual? Find their families?”

“Revenge?”

Your head turned to Prosciutto as he was enjoying one last drag of his cigarette.

“You’re brave.” You huffed a bit of laughter at the thought. The big boss and his cronies- the only real reason none of you strayed from Risotto’s orders was way up on a station so far up the intergalactic alliance ladder that you’d have a better shot at killing the king of Gnomia B908 and getting away with it.

“Why not?” Illuso was the one to back it. “Surely we could track the sick fucks that did it.”

“You’re thinking too simply.” Risotto grumbled over his fist. “They didn’t get themselves killed by accident. This was deliberate- a display not to challenge the higher ups.”

“Any idea what they were planning?” You sat up, propping your elbows onto your knees.

Risotto kindly pulled up their hidden plans- your name encircled in red a few times. They seemed to have had their eye on a biotech printer and medbay that was once used by the Boss himself.

“What’s the relevance of an old medbay?” Pros posed the question to you- Melone was up front with Formaggio.

“Medbays need to keep track of any irregularities in DNA to avoid any incompatibility issues. Its one of the few things that can’t be wiped because its burned into the drive. They were trying to expose the Boss’s identity.”

“And they were planning on risking us all in the process?”

You pointed at a little arrow shooting off your name once more. “They figured I could remove and replace the hard drive before anyone noticed.”

Your throat felt dry as you realized what that meant. Whoever this person was... if they could follow something as irrelevant as a used medbay to keep their tracks clean... chances are you were all, at best, being watched.

The thought must have been shared as Risotto didn’t breathe a word as he moved to the front of the ship and changed course to an unaffiliated vector you know damn well you’d probably be searched and cleansed for.

To no one’s surprise the pristine white towers blinded and no sooner than two seconds of coming into orbit of one of the bigger planets you were requested to land.

You stood beside you captain as the ship docked and you waited with your hands behind your head to greet the haz-mat team. “You must be pretty serious about this if you’re willing to get sit in their prison.”

He gazed down at you and with a deadpan tone simply said: “You’ve escaped, I’m certain you could do it again.”

[tisfan]

Lucky Buck’s Magical Coffee

Chapter Two - Working for a Living

Fantasy Bingo: Square Magical Exhaustion

link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24743212/chapters/60835351

Jarvis flapped Tony’s coat at him as he was ready to leave. “I have insider information that the weather ifrit’s had a fight with his spouse. It may rain later today.” It didn’t look like rain according to the screens that Tony had open that showed the outside world. It looked sunny and peaceful and lovely. But Jarvis was seldom wrong about these things.

The spirit of technology was still relatively young, compared with his brothers and sisters -- spirits of air, earth, fire, water, and void -- having only started coming into being about the mid seventeenth century, or so.

Jarvis himself had been formed in 1835, fathered, one might say, by the invention of the Analytical Engine, in the workshop of Charles Babbage. For a spirit, he was practically a baby. To Tony, he was impossibly old and wise. But then, Tony was a technomage, and spirits of the “natural world” didn’t tend to speak with him.

“Right, so I’ll want an umbrella,” Tony said, digging through the closet for one, “and to bump personal force fields up on my to-do list. And not to suggest a walk in the park for my date. Or maybe I should; Bucky’s a Natural Witch, maybe he’d enjoy getting caught in the rain.”

Tony was on his way to Buck’s Lucky Coffee as soon as he found a functional umbrella, to meet up for their third date, as soon as Bucky turned the afternoon shift over to Clint. He was somewhat unreasonably giddy about it; three was an important number in both the physical and magical worlds, and so three dates seemed... significant, somehow.

He wondered if, after three dates, he could call Bucky his boyfriend, instead of “this guy I’ve gone out with a couple of times.” And why in Turing’s name did he have a pink umbrella with flouncy little ruffles all around its edges? They looked like they’d hold onto water and dump it on you at exactly the wrong moment.

The line wasn’t quite out the door, but only until Tony got there. The next person would, in fact, be out the door. Although that might have been because Bucky had an actual troll as a customer, and he both took up a lot of space and people didn’t want to stand near him. Tony was pretty sure all the nonsense about trolls was just racist bullshit. They did a really good job building bridges, so what, exactly, was everyone’s problem? There hadn't been an incident involving trolls and children in at least a century. (well, sensationalist magazines and abusive parents dragged that story out all the time.)

And even as Tony was putting that together, three more people got into line behind him. The date was not going to start on time, because there was no way Bucky was walking away and dumping a rush like this on Clint to handle alone.

Which was fine, it actually, absolutely was, because Tony was a little overloaded with work, himself, so he could get his coffee and go stake out a table in the corner and knock out a little work on his tablet while he waited. They both worked in customer service; it was a thing you planned around.

Tony squinted up at the ceiling and huffed over the patchiness of the shop’s wards. Bucky was going to have another imp in his espresso machine if the building super didn’t get some fresh protections up soon.

The line inched forward. The troll spoke actual trollish, which Tony didn’t understand. Neither, apparently, did Bucky, but Bucky gestured to Clint, who made a few gestures. SSL -- Supernatural Sign Language, which was left over from when trolls and witches and dwarves all worked together on some of the city projects, and had to learn to effectively communicate. These days, almost everyone spoke English, which seemed very human-centric, come to think of it. Maybe Tony could get some mileage out of a translation app.

“Get me a bucket,” Clint said. “He wants a venti-venti-venti.” Clint signed again, and the troll dropped a gold coin on the counter about the size of a jar lid.

 A triple-venti was going to take a while to pull. Tony fished out his phone and started making notes. Translation app, personal force fields, the somewhat sticky problem of a cursed laptop that a college student had brought him that held the student’s only copy of their master’s thesis -- bad idea, that, always have multiple backups -- and thus couldn’t be de-cursed the quick and easy way, which had a tendency to leave a few memory sectors fragged.

The line kept growing behind Tony. But he’d finally gotten up to the second in line when the door pushed open and a tall, willowy woman came in with strawberry blond hair that was soaking wet and stuck to her face. “I don’t understand it,” she said. “It was sunny. The weather report said sunny all day--” She gasped a few times for breath -- if Tony had been running in those shoes, he’d have broken an ankle -- and gazed at the line in horror.

“Ifrit domestic trouble,” Tony volunteered. “Or so I heard.”

“You think I can send him my dry-cleaning bill?” She wrung out her hair and then took off her jacket, flapping water toward the door. Her shell top was sticking to her. “I’m soaking wet, I’m going to be late, I’ve been working the worst hours.”

“Hi Miss Potts,” Bucky yelled from the counter.

“Mr. Barnes,” she said. “Tell me you can save me.”

“I can save you.”

The troll collected his drink -- the repurposed ice-cream bucket still looked like an espresso cup in his huge hand -- and headed out into the weather. The door yawned and stretched around him to make room. That was a neat trick. Tony hadn’t seen it before; tech wizards said it was too hard, and so trolls and giants and some of the taller elven tribes complained about lack of access.

“Huh. I wonder when he had that installed,” Tony mused, eyeing the door, and then his attention snapped back to -- Miss Potts, apparently. “Does he save you on a regular basis? What’s your standard?”

“I’m probably only alive because of Mr. Barnes’ shop,” Miss Potts said. “Have you been here before? I love this place. I would live here, if they’d let me. Working for A Living. I think I might either die falling down the stairs in exhaustion, or actually push my boss down an elevator shaft without it.”

Tony let the two or three people between them skip ahead of him in the line -- he wasn’t going anywhere until the rush died down, anyway -- to make it easier to chat. “I only discovered it a couple of weeks ago,” Tony admitted. “Came in to exorcise the espresso machine -- it’s fine now, don’t worry -- and well, like you -- didn’t want to leave again.” He grinned. “Sounds like your boss needs to pause and have a cup, too. What do you do?”

“Personal Assistant,” Miss Potts said. “Pretty much whatever my boss says to do, all the way from taking notes at meetings to fetching his dry cleaning. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except they’re in the middle of a hostile takeover, and between angry dwarves and multiple on-site labor disputes, I’ve been putting in sixteen hours a day, six days a week, for almost a month.” She did look on the brink of falling over with exhaustion, her hands shaking.

“Yike,” Tony sympathized. “Is this his first hostile? I mean, someone with experience would have known to hire a temp for the duration or something.”

Up at the counter, Bucky was making two Money for Nothings, keeping up an easy patter with the customers about lottery tickets and checking their pockets. 

“He seems to think that I’m the only one who can keep this company going,” she muttered. She pulled a magical compact out of her purse and opened it. The compact spouted a few uplifting and cheerful advertising-disguised-as-pep-talk phrases, and then-- “damn.” The purple smoke drifted out of the back and pooled around their feet. “It got wet. I am going to complain to the weather guild about this.”

“Nah,” Tony said. “I mean, go ahead and do that, sure, but here, let me see--” He plucked the compact out of her hand and peered into it. It wasn’t very sophisticated tech, but it only took a little for Tony to be able to manipulate it. A locking clasp, a tiny speaker and some wires connected to a button battery for amplification, and boom, tech.

Tony balanced the little thing on the palm of his hand and let energy flow into his witchmarks, making them glow a bright blue. There were some who said it looked spooky, but Tony had always found the light comforting. He coaxed little wisps of magic up into the compact and swept out the water, reversing some corrosion and a little bit of normal wear-and-tear, and reinstalling the sprite software that had drifted loose.

He popped the lid open again.

“Oh, honey, that shirt with that jacket, really? We’ve got some work to do.”

Tony rolled his eyes at it and handed it back to Miss Potts. “Here you go, good as new.” Well, it might be a little bit sassier than it had been before. Semi-autonomous sprite technology seemed to do that whenever Tony put his hands on it. 

“How did you-- thank you,” Miss Potts said. “My name’s Pepper Potts, it’s nice to meet you.” She held out a hand for a professional shake, but when her fingertips touched Tony’s, he felt the brief surge of Empathic Magic. No wonder her boss wanted her on site all the time. Empaths could affect the moods and compliance of people around them with a simple touch.

“Tony Stark,” he said. He considered her briefly. “Want to quit your horrible job and come work for me?”

“Are you joking?”

The woman in front of Tony in line took so long deciding what pastry she wanted with her coffee, Tony was almost certain that her coffee was going to be cold by the time she actually took a sip. 

“Here,” Bucky said. “I got yours already, doll. And Miss Potts, I’ll have your life affirming moment ready in just two minutes.”

Bucky put a mug, rather than a to-go cup on the counter in front of Tony. The heart in the steamed milk on top was glittering red and gold at him.

Tony shot Bucky a warm smile and a thanks, and stepped aside with his mug so Pepper wouldn’t have to reach past him when Bucky finished hers. He turned the mug until the point of the heart was pointing straight at his chest -- sympathetic magics always worked better if you gave them a bit of a push -- and then tipped the froth into his mouth. Like it had the previous times he’d had Bucky’s Lucky in Love brew, everything felt extra-warm for a moment, and a little bit sparkly, and behind the counter, Bucky seemed glow, just the tiniest bit.

“I wasn’t joking,” he told Pepper, when he’d finished savoring that first sip. “My dad died a couple of years ago and failed to leave the business to me free and clear, and last year, almost on the anniversary of his death, his old business partner split the company and walked off with about two-thirds of the staff for his branch. I’ve been scrambling to keep up and looking for good people.”

Obie had done a little more than simply splitting the company, but the sob story wasn’t something Tony liked to wave around. Maybe, if she took him up on it, he’d tell her about it sometime.

Bucky, perhaps feeling something going on -- he seemed to have that sense -- put Pepper’s drink in a tall glass, complete with a bamboo recycled straw instead of in the to-go cup. “On the house,” he added, pushing an actual brownie-crafted brownie on a plate at her. “With a little extra daydreams.”

“I would live here,” Pepper repeated, taking a sip of the drink. “So, job. Details. Would you like to do an interview, I could do an interview. Right here. I even have my resume up to date.”

Tony glanced at the line behind the ordering counter, then shrugged. He wasn’t going anywhere soon. “Sure,” he said. “Let’s do that.” He pointed at a table.

It took barely a minute of scanning Pepper’s resume to know that she was vastly overqualified, and probably not getting paid anything like she was worth. She’d successfully negotiated a dozen contracts, as a personal assistant.

A little nudging and she didn’t quite admit to being sexually harassed by her boss, but Tony could sense that maybe that had happened, too.

When Bucky finally came out from behind the counter, leaving Clint to finish out his shift, Pepper was smiling, cheerful, and enthusiastic, and it probably wasn’t all entirely due to Bucky’s coffee.

“Hey, snowflake!” Tony greeted him cheerfully. “I’m going to steal Pepper from her obnoxious boss. I’d offer to pay her what she’s worth, but frankly, I’m not sure I can afford that, so I’ll have to settle for merely doubling her current salary.”

Bucky tapped the plate in front of her, where she’d eaten the entire brownie except for a few crumbs. “Opportunity Knocks brownie. Glad you enjoyed it.” He gave Pepper a wink. “But now, I am going to steal my boyfriend from you, since we have a date as soon as I’m off shift.”

Tony pulled just a little magic out of his phone and flipped it at Pepper’s. “That’s my number,” he told her. “I’ll call tomorrow, and we’re going to do this. Start writing your resignation letter. Hire some clowns to see you out. Or strippers. Stripper clowns?”

Bucky rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know a clown dominatrix,” he volunteered. “She could always use extra work.”

“Perfect,” Tony declared. “Talk to you tomorrow, Pep!” He tucked his arm through Bucky’s and turned them toward the door.

Guess he could start calling Bucky his boyfriend, now. That was easier than he’d thought.

On the way through the door, Bucky offered his hand to the doorframe, cupping what looked like a thimbleful of honey and a tiny piece of bread. “Wood fairies,” he said. “She deserved a bonus after that trick with our Troll earlier.” He glanced up at the sky, which was still pouring rain, and the occasional spates of hail, in anger. “I don’t know if you had anything in mind, specifically, but there’s a traveling mystical petting zoo in the park. They probably have wind sprites to keep the weather off. I always wanted to see a unicorn up close.”

“I’m more of a wyvern man, myself,” Tony said, feeling the happy buzz of Bucky’s potion fizzing through him at Bucky’s closeness. “Yeah, let’s go to the zoo.” He held up the pink umbrella. “I can even keep us dry on the way, if you don’t mind walking close.”

[vincentu76]

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[foxchristian899]

Lenovo Ericsson H5321gw Driver Windows 10

SIM7600 Series Linux Network

Description This package installs the software (Wireless WAN driver) to enable the Ericsson N5321gw/H5321gw/C5621gw Mobile Broadband Driver This package installs the software (Wireless WAN driver) to enable the following device. Ericsson N5321gw Mobile Broadband Device. This package installs the WirelessWAN driver to enable the following device: - Ericsson H5321gw Mobile Broadband Device - Ericsson C5621gw Mobile Broadband Device If this package has been installed, updating (overwrite-installing) may fix problems, add new functions, or expand functions. Ericsson H5321gw/F5521gw Mobile Broadband Driver for Windows 7 (32-bit, 64-bit), XP - ThinkPad. Ericsson H5321gw/C5621gw/N5321gw Mobile Broadband Firmware for Windows 10 (32-bit, 64-bit), 8.1 (32-bit, 64-bit), 8 (32-bit, 64-bit) - ThinkPad.

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Type:DriverFile Name:h5321gw_mobile_5358.zipFile Size:4.5 MBRating:

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H5321GW MOBILE BROADBAND NETWORK DRIVER (h5321gw_mobile_5358.zip)

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Original software will help you to fix device errors with ericsson network.

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Ericsson N5321GW 04W3823 3G Module Lenovo Thinkpad WWAN.

[msbarrows]

I think this arrangement might work until I get a new desk, though I’m sideeyeing the old monitor perched on the storage drawers; not as stable a setup as I’d like. Maybe I can figure out some better arrangement, even just finding somewhere else in convenient reach to put the drawers so the monitor is down on the desk.

The old laptop is also perched - on its cooler on top of my old desktop, behind the new monitor - which is more stable than it sounds since there’s downward projecting bits of the cooling pad that catch on the edges of the desktop case and prevent it from sliding around too much. I need a cheapie mini keyboard that I can use to type on it when needed, instead of having to stand up and reach over the new monitor. At least I already have a wireless mouse to use with it.

And that of course is the new gaming laptop off to the left. My nice new external optical drive is perched on the corner of the monitor stand, and my powered USB 3.0 hub and actual power bar are hiding to the left and back left of the monitor stand respectively.

I love that my SteelSeries software does a cloud storage thing of my settings; as soon as I installed the SteelSeries engine and logged in, boom, my setup was identical to what it had been on the old laptop.

[not-the-cleavers]

Target II - Chapter 4

Hey guys real quick - I’m posting this now because I live in Australia and there’s a fire less than 20km away from my house so we’re on alert for evacuation. Basically I’m not sure when I’ll be able to post if we end up getting evacuated - I’m not looking for sympathy, it is what it is, I just want you beautiful people to know what’s going on.

Anyway.....

Tags; @adrenaline-roulette​ and @amy-brooklyn99​ - if you would like to be tagged just let me know

Pairing; Four x Eight (female reader) Fandom; 6 Underground Warnings; Swearing, angst, mention of human/sex trafficking, drinking and smoking Word count; 1.7k (total so far 6.3k)

Summary; The team has moved onto their next target after dealing with Rovach Alimov, a war criminal named John Dough. Eight has just joined the team and is dying to show how much she deserves to be there

Catch up; Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Entering the hanger I noticed that someone had kindly placed a stool where I would normally stand during our briefs, these things tend to run long and I don’t think I’d be able to stand for the entire thing. Four helped me slide onto the stool and instead of scurrying off to the opposite side of the table; where he normally stands, he stayed put, leaning onto the cold metal table. I pulled my laptop closer to me to start to pull useful information from that key logging software I installed before we left. Much to my surprise John Dough uploaded his entire hard drive, virus and all, to his personal version of the cloud, where he uploads and downloads to all his personal devices, spreading my virus everywhere. The idiot just made my job so much easier! “You look like you’ve got good news, care to share with the rest of class?” One said in his usual sarcastic tone. Clearly my poker face needs work. “You two aren’t fucking are you?” he said in a dead serious tone, flicking a finger between Four and myself. “What? No!” Hopefully I was able to hide my disappointment with shock, “it’s about John Dough. The idiot just uploaded my virus to every single one of his devices. I can see everything he does” I said with a smirk. A deep belly laugh erupted from One. “Eight if I wasn’t kinda terrified of you, I would kiss you right now!” he almost yelled, causing Two to crack a smile. “What does this mean for the mission?” Three asked, not entirely sure what I was talking about but willing to play along. “It means I have complete access to his whole system. I can upload a new virus that will duplicate everything onto my servers here without him ever knowing. If he hires more guards, I’ll know. If he books a flight anywhere in the world, I’ll know. If he sends a dick pic, I’ll know. If he does anything on any single one of his devices, I’ll know. This means this mission got a whole hell of a lot easier my friend, we are no longer flying blind” I explained. This caused a huge smile to explode onto Threes face, after getting pinned by those two guards I’m sure this was welcomed news.

“So what’s on the hard drive?” One asked, breaking the joyful feeling in the air. “I haven’t had a chance to look at it yet, I only woke up like an hour ago, and someone grabbed it from my vest in the van yesterday and put it here” I bit back. Did he seriously think I had the chance to look at the hard drive yet? “Eight that was 3 days ago! Are you seriously trying to tell me you’ve been unconscious this whole time?” What? It can’t have been days, how had I been out for days? And did he seriously not check in on me at all during that time? “I’ll take your silence as a yes” he huffed, anger evident in his voice, though I wasn’t sure why. “C’mon man, give her a break…” Seven came to my rescue while everyone else remained silent “Don’t you ‘c’mon man’ me, this isn’t good enough. We needed intel three fucking days ago! And while princess over here was sleeping, this fucker helped destroy another small community in Syria!” One was getting extremely irate, and your hand instinctively went to where your holster normally sat on your hip, but instead of your hand wrapping around your trusty sidearm, it was grabbed by Four. What was he doing? “And you would have been able to stop that, in three days, with one of us out with a gunshot wound?” Seven sneered “Face it man, we wouldn’t have been able to save those people. I know it sucks but this is what we have been dealt” he placed his hand on Ones shoulder, which was quickly shaken off. “Right well this has been a waste of time, does anyone have anything to add to this?” We all looked around the room at one another not daring to say a damn word. “Right, well that’s that” One said walking past us all to leave, stopping to put a his hand on my shoulder, lean down really close to my ear and say “I’m starting to wonder if I made a mistake bringing you into this. Prove to me I didn’t” loud enough for everyone to hear before walking away. I didn’t dare move my eyes to look at anyone, instead choosing to stare dead ahead or else the tears would come, and I wasn’t about to fucking cry in front of everyone.

I slowly pulled myself off the stool, slammed my laptop lid closed, picked up the hard drive and made my way out of the hanger. “Fucking prick” I muttered to myself, how dare he say that shit to me! I was fucking shot getting that fucking hard drive while he sat in the getaway car. If he wants me to prove I deserve to be here, that’s just what I’ll do, and then he can explain why he’s the only one here who never seems to do anything. The walk back to my trailer was long and slow and I was starting to understand Five’s advice to take it easy. I gingerly made it up the two steps of my trailer and slammed the door behind me, I was going to get to work and make One fucking eat his words. I walked past my living quarters and into my makeshift office. This trailer used to have a drivers seat and dashboard that was ripped out, so when I got here I got to work making a desk, knowing I would need it for my role in the team. I sat myself down at my desk and started clicking my way through every single file I had transferred over, easily getting into any password protected folders. Everything about this John Dough made me sick to my stomach, but when I came across a folder named ‘Girls’ I knew it was about to get worse. I forced myself to open the folder and what greeted my eyes was foul. Hundreds of videos and photos of women and teenage girls in varying stages of undress and beaten into such a state I feared they were dead flooded my screen. These were most likely women and girls forced into sex slavery, trafficked away from their families and treated like this. I slammed the screen down again, I needed a fucking drink. I walked back out of my office and poured myself a healthy of whiskey into a not very clean glass and just as I was about to take a sip there was a knock at my door. I hobbled my way over to the door and pushed it open, not looking to see who it was, before turning around and walking right back in. “Drink?” I asked the visitor, holding up my glass so they could see, “Uh sure, got any beer?” the deep accented voice of Four came from behind me. “Feel free to check but I don’t think so” I told him, motioning towards the small fridge with my hand that held my whiskey. I slowly lowered myself onto my bed again and watched Four squat down to check my drink options. When his search came up empty, he muttered that he would be right back, and walked right back out the door. A chuckle escaped my lips as I leant back and took a sip, making a slight face as the liquor burned its way down my throat.

My door opened one last time as four re-entered with two six packs of some kind of beer, unloading one into my fridge and bringing the other one, and my bottle of whiskey, over to my bed, where he sat down next to me. “What’s going on? I know One was being an arsehole back there, but I can tell something else has happened” Four said knowingly, watching me take another slip. “This whole week can fuck itself. First I get shot – and that’s still not on you so don’t try it, then I get ridiculed in front of everyone because I was apparently unconscious for three days, then going through that hard drive I’ve come across some of the worst things I’ve seen and I’ve only scratched the surface.” I replied, cutting myself off before mentioning anything about how I felt about Four and how he would never feel the same way. “What are you talking about?” he asked hesitantly after a long drink from his bottle. My only response was to point him in the direction of my office. While he was gone I leant over to a set of drawers at the end of my bed and grabbed a pack of Marlboros and an ashtray, quickly lighting a cigarette and taking a long drag. I tended to only smoke when stressed and man oh man, today was one of those days.

I soon realised that Four had been gone a while, so I thought I better check on him, all this movement probably wasn’t ideal for my side but honestly, fuck it. I found him, standing in shock at what he discovered on my laptop screen, his hands shaking. Afraid he was going to drop his half-drunk beer on the ground, I grabbed it from his hand after closing the laptop one final time. I walked him back to my bed and sat him back down; in hindsight I probably should have warned him. “Sorry, I should have given you a heads up, I forgot that you don’t normally see that kind of thing.” Normally it was myself or One who did the background on the targets and the team only were given the necessary information. Four raked his hands through his hair before asking “you normally see shit like that?” he sounded shocked, I nodded before replying “I’ve never seen anything exactly like that before, but yeah it is common” the words muffled slightly by my cigarette. Without warning Four grabbed it from between my lips and took a drag before placing it back. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea” he mumbled. “S’alright, I’m glad it still gets to me, means I’m still human” he chuckled weakly at my response. We were clearly feeling the heaviness in the air surrounding that last subject. “Hey lets play twenty questions” I piped up, hoping for a change of pace, and by the way his expression changed I could tell he was okay with that. “You first, your number is lower than mine” I laughed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So yeah that’s the most recent chapter, again I really don’t know when the next chapter will be up. I hope you enjoy!

[fandom-necromancer]

601. If you kill them, you’d better kill me too, because otherwise I’m going to kill you.

This was prompted by the awesome @smolandangry001! Thank you so much for the prompt, this has gotten a bit longer than the normal stories but it actually has story, not just fluff or angst XD Enjoy!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900 (Warnings: Undercover mission gone wrong, kidnapping, violence, offscreen mentioned torture)

‘Nines! Anderson! Connor!’ RK900 looked up from his screen towards Fowlers office. What could possibly have happened for him to be called up there? And why him and the others? The only times Fowler had called him it was because and together with Gavin, something that was impossible now. The man had been on an undercover mission for three months now and one would have thought he had adjusted to him missing in the workplace and in their flat. But no, the void space opposite to him and at home felt weird and even hurt sometimes. He missed his partner dearly. He missed the man’s rare moments of cuteness, the little sweet things he did for him and the habits Nines had developed to return them. He missed their fights, their snarky comments and most of all he missed someone having his back and someone to care for. Sure, he had their cats at home and whenever it was safe, Gavin contacted him via a special chat-program, Nines had written and installed on his phone. They still were in contact relatively regular, but it just wasn’t the same.

The android got up from his seat and followed Connor and Hank into the office. Fowler stood up as soon as he entered, coming around his desk and laid a hand on his upper arm. This wasn’t good and immediately Nines tensed and felt his LED glowing red in his temple. ‘Nines, I… This isn’t good, okay, but I need you to stay calm. We will take action. We will do everything we can. But we have to plan beforehand to make it work.’ Yeah, this wasn’t good at all. ‘What is it?’ Nines forced himself to not let it show how panicked he was. This was something about Gavin, it had to be. But, oh, how he wished it wasn’t. The Captain leaned back to turn his screen and immediately Nines’ analysis-software went haywire.

The screen showed a paused video. Some figure sat slumped down on a chair, held up only by ropes around legs, chest, arms and throat. It was a bit blurry, but the clothing matched Gavin’s. Still, there was a 0.2% chance they were just wearing similar clothing and it all was just coincidence. He held onto that calculation. Fowler sighed and hit the spacebar letting the video continue.

“Hello, fellow boys in blue out there!” The voice was distorted heavily, but Nines was already trying to restore it. “Didn’t think we would find your man, huh?” There was laughing and Nines immediately knew he hated the idiot behind the mic more than anyone else he had ever met. “Well, maybe next time find someone who has less qualms and a more polite mouth.” The words were emphasized by a clangourous slap across the chained man’s face, that let their head bounce back, so the camera could get a good picture. Nines had been about to step forward in an useless attempt to stop the person who hurt the man. The 0.2% quickly dropped to zero. This was Gavin. This was his partner, his friend, his- Gavin woke up from whatever it was that had him hang in the ropes and shifted with a painful grimace. ‘No.’ Nines had whispered it, but the room was dead silent. “I don’t know what to do with him yet, so maybe you could help me? I could kill your friend here, but I think he could be useful still. We demand a school bus. And a safe passage out of this state. Once we left, you get your idiot back, how does that sound, huh?” Only as his artificial skin retracted Nines realised how hard he had pressed his hands into fists. Everything in him screamed to run, to help, to do anything. “Two am. Monday. Location is attached. No tricks. I won’t hesitate to play with him a little, so if you want him alive and in one piece, better do as we said.”

The video stopped and restarted as they watched it again and again, Nines fixed on his love in that chair, wincing every time they hit Gavin. It was Hank, who reached over and stopped it, speaking slowly and low. ‘I think that’s enough. What do we do?’ Nines was still staring at the screen, at the clearly visible bruises and the ropes that dug into his skin, and his combat profile rose up. What do we do? We run. We find Gavin, we free Gavin, we kill anyone who stand in our way. That was what the soldier said. And that was what he wanted.

‘Connor!’ As Fowler cried out the order, Nines was already flying out of the door and down the bullpen, before the other RK unit could throw himself at him and stop him. ‘Nines, stop! Don’t do this!’ ‘They have Gavin!’, Nines hissed against the floor he was laying on and pressed against the weight of the other android on top of him. ‘What would you do would they have the Lieutenant?’ ‘I know. But you can’t just run out there without a plan. We will do our best to safe him.’ ‘Your best is not enough, Connor. You are an obsolete model saved by deviancy. Your careful planning and rational actions will get him killed!’ He didn’t want to be so cruel, but he had to go, he had to help his partner! ‘Nines, I agree. That’s why we need your power on the team, not wasted!’

Nines went lax. Still everything told him to follow his prime directive and the soldier wasn’t about to back down. But he knew he couldn’t and wouldn’t fight against his brother. As he was sure Nines wouldn’t try anything, he let go. ‘Okay, calm down. You will get him back faster than you can think. I promise. Concentrate on the case at hand, okay?’ ‘Okay.’ ‘Good. First of all we have to find out where he is.’ ‘I already know that.’ Nines was still bouncing to let this spiel fall and run. ‘What? How?’ ‘I sort of programmed a form of a pseudo-android-network on his phone. Until three hours ago I know exactly where his phone was. And if they demand a bus, I don’t think they want to leave now.’ ‘Good. Where?’ ‘A house in the suburbs. Still marked as vacant since a family left during the revolution.’ ‘Do you have a building plan?’ ‘Of course I have, Connor, I would be far quicker had I just already gone!’ ‘But do you know how many there are? What weapons? No. I figured. Stay here. It won’t help Gavin when you are killed trying to save him.’ ‘Fine.’

 Nines played along precisely long enough for his shift to end. ‘I’m off, Connor. See you tomorrow.’ ‘Nines. Where are you going?’ ‘Home. The cats need to be fed.’ ‘Are you sure? Don’t lie to me.’ ‘This isn’t a lie.’ ‘Good. Then stay safe.’

It wasn’t a lie. He did drive home and fed the cats. Even cuddled a bit, just in case. But then he left. There was no way he was sitting around doing nothing, when Gavin was hurt and in possible danger. Who knew what these criminals would do to a police officer. Maybe they would stay true to their promise and care enough to let him stay alive. But that didn’t equal unharmed.

He was quick to be back outside again and stopped in his tracks as he found Connor leaned against Gavin’s car. He sighed. ‘I hope you are not here to stop me.’ ‘I don’t think I would be able to if I tried. I got you by surprise, but I am no match for you being the obsolete one.’ ‘I’m sorry, Connor, I really am. But I’m worried. If something happened to him… I- I wouldn’t-‘ ‘Don’t. I know what you feel. I would do the same for Hank. That’s why I came.’ ‘You won’t stop me.’ ‘I didn’t come to stop you. I want to help you. It’s the least I can do for my brother.’ ‘Thank you. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.’ Connor already entered the passenger side. ‘Try not to kill anyone, that would be enough.’

Nines speeded across town on the fastest route there was. ‘What do we tell the precinct once we have him?’, Nines asked. ‘I wanted to take you somewhere to keep you from running to Gavin’s rescue. Then we happened to come across some illegal activity and coincidentally this was the house Gavin is kept captive in.’ ‘They won’t believe that.’ ‘They can’t prove it either.’ ‘Anderson knows of this?’ ‘I left him a note. He’ll understand.’

They parked the car a few blocks away and got out. Nines dropped his Cyberlife jacket in the car. It was already dark, so he would blend in with his black turtleneck and trousers. ‘I can make out three persons in the front, you see anything else?’ ‘Three in the front. There is a laptop I could try hacking. Not sure if they would notice.’ ‘What about the phone? You said you built an android network?’ Nines nodded. It basically felt like an extended part of him now. ‘I’ll try to access it.’ His LED spun yellow for a few seconds. ‘front camera is dark, back camera shows a lamp on a ceiling.’ ‘All the lights upstairs are off. A cellar?’ ‘Yes. There is one. No outdoor access, there is a stair down.’

They came nearer and hid in the neighbour’s bushes. ‘There is a window’, Connor pointed out and Nines zoomed in on it. ‘Possible entrance. But they might notice. It’s closed.’ Connor smiled. ‘But it is a digital log. I can hack it. The whole house is connected to a central processing AI. I could try and hack it, while you scout around the place. You get in, get Gavin and come back, I’ll distract them. Sounds like a plan?’ Nines nodded. He crawled out of the bush, while Connor’s eyes started to flutter. Not much more time passed, and the window opened silently. Nines stuck his head into the space and scanned the place. The window led into some empty broom closet. He signed Connor an okay and squeezed himself through. He barely hadn’t made it as his frame was designed broader than most humans. But he made it and pulled up the floorplan in his HUD. Outside the door was a narrow hallway leading to a single room intended for storage. Most likely the place they kept Gavin in. He fetched some duct tape from a shelf and ripped off a piece to cover his LED, then made way for the door. From the heat signatures, there are two persons outside, Connor sent him over their wireless connection. I’ll create a distraction upstairs. Maybe that will get them out. Nines waited, until he heard a scream from upstairs. What did you do?, Nines asked. Someone was dumb enough to sit on the stove. Nines grinned. Weren’t you the one who said no person harmed? No person killed, was his answer.

Nines waited some more. Any movement on our two guards? Can you see Gavin? Still there. And yes, he is in the next room. I’ll try something else. Nines saw the flicker of light under the door. Soon enough footsteps. Nines pressed himself against the door until the person was right in front of it, then he opened it and put his whole strength into the blow. The door smashed into the man’s face, Nines took him by the collar and yanked him inside the closet, closing the door again and making sure the idiot was unconscious. Then he used his duct tape to gag and handcuff him and let him drop to the floor. One out, he reported. One left. She has heard the commotion. Is coming towards the door. There is an 87% chance she’ll open it. Nines nodded although Connor couldn’t see him and pressed himself to the adjacent wall. There were footsteps again. Then there was light, as the door opened. Nines waited until the woman entered, then grabbed her back and throwed her against the wall and preparing her just like the other guard. Now the way was free. Gavin was nearly safe!

Nines jumped out, ready to run towards his partner. Nines, stop, there is another heat signature there is- He saw him. Standing behind Gavin, smiling devilishly at him, was a well-dressed man, holding a gun to his head. ‘I told you no tricks. I knew you would come. And I’ll tell you what you’ll do now: Go back out and maybe I won’t kill him.’ ‘If you kill him, you’d better kill me too, because otherwise I’m going to kill you’, Nines growled low. ‘Please, no one has to die here. Just go, get your boss to get us that bus and no one will be harmed.’ ‘Oh, but maybe I want to see you harmed?’, Nines hissed. ‘I’m not sure you know my model, but you would either be fast enough to kill him or to save yourself by shooting me. If you kill him, you are dead. If you let him live, there is no need for me to kill you. So, what is more important to you? Proving a point or continue to live?’ Switch off the lights, Connor!

In pitch darkness there was a shot. Then a clatter. Back on!

Nines was on top of the asshole that had threatened his partner, who was holding his bloodied, cleanly shot through hand. Nines didn’t hesitate to punch the man over and over again, until he was unconscious. And then, for good measure, again. After that, there were more important things.

Gavin had been gagged since the video and was barely awake. There was blood on his face, bruises all over and red marks from the ropes around his throat. Nines couldn’t be fast enough to untie him and catch him as he fell towards the ground. ‘Gavin! Gavin, I’m here! You hear me? All is good, we are going home. You are safe!’ Are we safe? This was Fowlers plan. They arrived a few minutes after you entered as backup and are now cleaning up the upper storeys. I needed distractions after the stove. Stay there. Ambulance on its way.

Nines exhaled heavily and pressed Gavin to his chest. He was safe and with him and nothing else mattered.

[sugamoonv]

Birthday Bash

Hiya! Can I please request a Soulmate!BTS OT7 x Soulmate!American YouTuber!female reader imagine where it’s the reader’s birthday (she’s a year younger than Jungkook so she’s turning 21) and the boys decide to surprise her when she comes home (she lives with the boys in their fancy apartment/dorm) from filming a YouTube video with her friends (She makes funny Kpop videos like ByronVids and JRE) + Y/n and the boys have a huge cuddle fest and movie night + lots of kisses between all of them!

Word Count: 3,753

Warnings: Jimin’s lowkey an alcoholic, talks of smut

A.N: I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy!!!!!

You walked past the dance studio that was blasting music to your own studio, a cup of coffee in one hand and the bag Hoseok had gifted you containing your laptop, chargers, phone, and other small necessities slung across your body. BigHit had allowed you to turn one of the spare rooms in the building where a lot of BTS’s choreographers worked and where their music studios were, into your filming studio for your Youtube channel. The only price was that they got a portion of your revenue.

You had come to Korea for a collaboration with another Youtube Creator and the universe had smiled on you because BTS just so happened to be back home at the same time. At first, you were surprised when the ink from the soulmate mark began spreading outwards from your shoulder, but after a few days, decided to pay no mind to it. When you met the other Youtuber and saw another soulmate mark on their hand, one not matching your own, you made the impulse decision to stay in Korea until you found your soulmate. You had simply told your follower base that you wanted to stay in the country for vacation and they had been wholly supportive, most of them screaming at you through the comments that you should make fancam videos since you were so close to many of the large k-pop groups you followed. Especially BTS.

Then as the days went by, your soulmate mark kept growing larger and larger to the point where you knew that it wasn’t meant for one single person. People’s marks were usually hideable since monogamy was the standard. But yours’ had stretched out so that you were having to wear long sleeve shirts in your videos and in public in case anyone saw you because finding your soulmate, or soulmates was a very intimate thing in your eyes and not something you wanted to be broadcasted to your audience, no matter how amazing they were.

Then it seemed the universe especially favored you one day when you had been scouting Youtube for fancam videos on BTS for your own content and saw that Jimin had slipped in hiding their soulmate mark. All of their marks were usually hidden, but dedicated fans knew that they were all soulmates. But what made you pause the video and stare at the screen for hours in disbelief was seeing that there was a new portion of Jimin’s soulmate mark on his ribs that matched exactly to a section of yours.

Long story short, after calling in a countless amount of favors, upping your visibility in the BTS fandom, and then searching out for the boys themselves, you had eventually met and realized that your mark was made for all of them. The first few months had been a whirlwind, between adjusting to a relationship with seven people, working hard to keep said relationship on the down-low from your follower base, ARMY, and the media, and then making the move from America all the way to Korea to be with your soulmates.

Eventually, you had dedicated a whole video to where you revealed your soulmate mark and told the story of you all finding each other, something that was common amongst Youtubers that had found their other half/halves. Then Jungkook and Jimin kept purposefully doing less and less to hide their soulmate marks whenever they lifted their shirts, Namjoon would always awkwardly avoid questions from the media so it was obvious to ARMY that one of the boys at least found another soulmate, and then when there were two songs dedicated to you on their new album (one for the rap line and another for the vocal line), ARMYs had deduced that their OT7 was now to become an OT8. A few months of everyone guessing, the Run producers had filmed you and Taehyung napping together during an episode and your relationship was cast into the public light.

You had gone to Korea when you were 19, single and only a few thousand followers to your channel, and now you were about to celebrate your 21st birthday with millions subscribed to you and seven extremely loving, and thoughtful boyfriends.

You set your bag on your desk, smiling to yourself. This morning, Jimin had snuck into bed with you and Hoseok and so you woke up to some very pleasant sensations. Hoseok, the grouch he is in the morning, of course, grumbled in annoyance when you woke him up, unable to stay quiet, and had left the room to let you and Jimin finish.

You were pleasantly surprised to find that everyone was up when you and Jimin left your room, some more awake and in a pleasant mood than others. You usually avoided Hoseok and Jimin in the morning since they were always grumpy when waking up. You never woke Yoongi up yourself but he always woke up fairly quickly, and Jungkook and Taehyung would sleepily stumble around, usually into someone’s arm, until they were awake. And that was the case as Jungkook was swaying in his seat, eyes closed as he drifted in and out of sleep, and once he heard you come in, slowly stood and dragged his feet over to you then wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his head into your chest. Taehyung was already clinging onto Yoongi since Namjoon disliked cuddling when tired and Yoongi had a high tolerance for you all.

Jin was manning the stove while Hoseok cut fruit, eyebrows scrunched and hair fluffed in every direction. Before you lay an arrangement of all your favorite breakfast foods from America that Jin had learned to make, with more on the way. Namjoon was already snacking on some bacon when you had come into the kitchen.

You all had to reluctantly leave the breakfast feast to go to work, no matter how much Taehyung whined that you should have the day off. Your boys had gone to the filming location for their music video and you had gone to your studio.

You turn on your computers and switch on the studio lights before unpacking your bag and hooking your laptop to one of the desktop computers. They had been a gift from Yoongi a few months into your relationship along with the editing software installed on it. Hoseok had paid for the expensive lighting much to your disapproval and Namjoon and Taehyung had teamed up in decorating your studio.

You had decided that for your birthday, you would do something easy and make a reaction video for the BTS Run episodes. You really had no use watching them since they all acted like crackheads enough around you without any cameras running. But your audience loved to see you make fun of your boyfriends and the antics they got themselves in to.

You were halfway through voicing a thought when the door to your studio opened and in walks your friend from the studio down the hall, holding a small cake and they begin to sing to you, steadily growing louder.

You look at the camera, deadpan, “It seems we have a visitor for today’s video.

Your friend places the cake in front of you then puts their face directly in front of the camera lens before pulling a chair next to yours and sitting. You continue staring at the camera the same way for another minute before the both of you break composure and laugh.

Your friend slaps their thighs, “What is happening here on this very day? Are we watching the boyfs?”

You hum. “The more...I watch them, the more….I’m tempted to lock them in their rooms. Because they are idiots. My soulmates are a bunch of idiots and they need to be STOPPED.”

A couple hours, a full cake, and a surprise catered lunch thanks to your boyfriend later, you finish the video. Your friend had to leave a quarter of the way through to go back to work and once you're wrapped up filming, you spent the rest of the day editing and now that the video was uploaded, you were glad to get to go back home. Your back aches from sitting all day and your wrist were tired from all the minute movements needed to work on the computer. You swore you were going to have carpal tunnel by the time you turned 30.

Excitement bubbled in your chest when you opened the door to your shared apartment and heard the voices of the boys within. Most days, their job required for them to work sporadic, long hours so they must have begged at least a dozen people to let them off early.

Jungkook was walking past you from the laundry room with a basket of folded clothes. That was the shared chore he designated to himself. He paused in front of you with wide eyes, “Y/N! You’re home early.”

“Y/N’s home?!” you heard Namjoon shout from another room. How excited he got over mundane things never failed to make your heart double its original size.

Namjoon suddenly appeared in the living room where you and Jungkook were standing, bouncing on his feet and his eyes scrunched with a barely contained smile that showcased his dimples.

“Hey, baby,” you walk to him, throwing your bag onto the couch on the way, “you look really happy,” you giggle.

Namjoon fully smiles and steps closer to you. Each of your hands are on the other’s hips. He dips his head down so his nose bumps into yours. “We had a really good day shooting and now you’re here with me.” Namjoon gently presses his lips to yours. “I missed you.” He nudges his head into the crook of your neck and rubs his hands up to the middle of your back and pulls you into a hug. “Did you get our present?”

“Mmm, you mean the lunch you sent me?” Namjoon nods. “I did. Who’s idea was that exactly?” you questioned with a slight tilt of your voice.

“All of ours.” You feel his lips move as he mumbles into your neck.

You pull away from the hug and begin to walk into the kitchen where you can hear Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi are. “Okay,” you teasingly smirk, “I’ll be sure to say thank you to Hobi for lunch.”

Namjoon gasps and watches you walk away with his mouth wide open.

Your eyes widen once you walk into the kitchen. Covering a majority of the counter surface are bottles of various alcohols. Jimin has a fairly large bottle in his hand and looks to be struggling to open it. Taehyung is somewhat hunched over as he closely watches Jimin’s hands work the corkscrew. Yoongi is sitting at the island, looking at his phone, completely unbothered to what the two younger men standing next to him are doing.

“Are we opening up a bar or something,” you draw the attention of the three men to you and Yoongi chortles.

Jimin sets the bottle back on the counter where Taehyung picks it up and resumes trying to take out the corkscrew, and he walks over to you with a smile so big his eyes are nearly closed. “No,” he giggles. He quickly pecks your cheek then leans back onto the counter. He’s situated between you and Yoongi. “It’s your twenty-first birthday. You can finally drink with us.”

You belly-laugh at his teasing. You both know full well that no one cared about the legal drinking age set by your home country. You’ve had many nights where you’ve gotten tipsy or drunk with them. And sometimes those nights ended with messy sex, other times, they’ve ended with you or one of the boys hunched over the toilet or a trash can and someone else rubbing circles into their back.

One of your fondest memories was from one night when you all had a little bit too much to drink and Jin had come up with the brilliant idea to play hide and seek tag. Yoongi had forgotten to hide in his drunken state and spent the whole night running from Jimin. Hoseok had passed out on the couch after looking for everyone twenty minutes into the game but fortunately, Namjoon had gotten confused and thought that he was “it” so you weren’t hiding for no reason. Jin and Taehyung had combined their brilliant minds together and tagged teamed. Namjoon found them first because they were unable to contain their laughter. You were forced to call off the game when Jungkook, in an attempt to get away from Namjoon, had crawled over the railing of the balcony in the apartment and hung there, remaining stubborn that so long as Namjoon was going to be waiting for him, he wasn’t budging. It took Jimin eleven minutes to talk Jungkook back over the railing.

“Jimin! You weren’t supposed to get this much!” Jungkook exclaimed as he walked into the kitchen, looking as surprised as you were to see all the alcohol.

“Relax. You know he’ll eventually drink it all,” Yoongi mutters. In the background, you hear Taehyung cheer as the corkscrew finally comes free from the bottle with a pop.

You suddenly stumble back as a pair of arms pull you into a chest. Hoseok makes smooching noises and coos into your neck. You squirm in his arms with a smile on your face, “Hello to you too.”

You arch your neck to look behind Hoseok to see Jin placing a few bags down in the living room. You know for sure that the bags are meant for you with a Victoria’s Secret bag peeking out behind some of the other brand names. There was most likely a piece chosen by each member within the bag.

“Oooh, what did you get?” Taehyung cutely runs over to Jin.

Jin slaps Taehyung’s arm when he starts ruffling through the bags. “Aish! You already know! Go away!”

Jungkook, who was busy wrestling the open bottle of wine away from Jimin, turns around at Jin yelling. “Jin! You weren’t supposed to let her see!” Jungkook stomps over the bags, ripping the one Taehyung is holding from his hands and loads them onto his arms before marching to his bedroom. Jimin and Yoongi laugh after him with full glasses of wine.

Namjoon comes behind Jin and wraps his arms around him and rests his chin on Jin’s shoulder as the older man angrily huffs. You wiggle out of Hoseok’s grasp and walk over to them to sandwich Jin in between you and Namjoon. You peer up at him, eyes squinted in happiness.

“Jungkook’s lucky it’s your birthday because any other day, I would have slapped him for talking to me like that,” Jin grumbles.

You and Namjoon laugh. Everyone knows that most of Jin’s threats were harmless.

Jungkook walks back towards you which causes Jin to leave for the kitchen, where he begins to prepare food for dinner with a pout on his face. Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, exposing his forehead and you feel a fluttering inside your chest at the sight.

“Alright, Namjoon, I need you to take Y/N somewhere other than here for at least two hours. Hoseok, you’re in charge of the banners, Taehyung, you’re in charge of the…” Jungkook skeptically glances at you, “special decorations. Jimin! Enough with the alcohol!”

Jimin, not being able to find the wine that has already been opened, has opted into opening a bottle of champagne and was in the midst of pouring himself a glass as Yoongi polishes the rest of his wine off.

You gently guide Jungkook around so he’s facing you. “Jungkook, calm down. There’s no reason to get this stressed over me,” you comfort him.

Jungkook runs his fingers through his hair again and you notice the slight movement of his jaw as he grinds his teeth together. “No,” he whines, “This day is important and I had this whole party planned but then you came home early, so we didn’t have time to prepare everything.” He looks at you with Bambi eyes, “Give me an hour to set up your party.”

Your eyes flicker around his face before you rise on your tiptoes to mold your lips to his. Jungkook sighs into the kiss and you feel the tension leave his shoulders underneath your palms.

You lower yourself flat on your feet and peer up at Jungkook with admiration. “I don’t doubt for a second that you probably had this elaborate celebration planned for me- but to be honest, I think I would rather just spend my birthday with all of you. No expectations, no one bothering us, none of us worrying about stupid stuff. Just us, a couple of movies, lots and lots of food, and” you glance over Jungkook’s shoulder to Jimin, who’s watching with a loving smile and behind him, close to Jin, Taehyung, who slightly gags after taking a sip of whatever drink is in his cup, “a copious amount of alcohol.”

The corners of Jungkook’s lips tilt up. “I’m sorry.”

You kiss along his jaw until you get to his lips, where you lay a few kisses. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” you kiss him again, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Alright,” you smile up at Jungkook before lifting his arm over your head and walking over to Jin, “Let’s bake this cake!” You slap Jin’s ass and he jumps, facing you, an angry blush overtaking his face as you smirk at him and the other’s laugh.

“Yoongi,” you whine.

Yoongi has been trailing his lips up and down your neck for the last forty minutes. His face red due to the alcohol in his system.

“You’re so beautiful. I love you so much-”

You hug Yoongi to you to cut him off. Twice already has he gone off on a drunken ramble where he continuously praises you. And no matter how much the words that leave his lips fill your heart with so much love, you know if you were to let him go off again it would only get the man cuddled into your other side started. Jimin was notorious for his need for praise and when he was drunk, he refused to quiet down until someone complimented him and when in private situations, a praised Jimin became a horny Jimin. And with how squished you all were on the couch if any two people began anything, then everybody else would be dragged into it. Well except for maybe Taehyung, who began dozing off halfway through the third movie.

Yoongi finally found his way to your lips and ignored your weak protests and pressed his lips onto yours. His hand came up to cup your cheek to hold you steady and his teeth lightly nibbled on your lower lip before he ran his tongue in their wake. You pulled away from him with a small pop when you felt a sudden weight on your lap.

Jungkook had taken it upon himself to move from his spot on the floor in front of you to your’s, Jimin’s, Yoongi’s, Namjoon’s, and Hoseok’s laps collectively. Namjoon reflexively grabbed onto Jungkook’s feet and the second Jungkook laid his head on Hoseok’s thighs, Hoseok leaned down and gave the younger a quick kiss.

Leaning on Namjoon, Jin rubbed his eyes tiredly before releasing a yawn. “I’m tired so I’m going to bed.” Getting bored of the movie yourself, you spoke up saying you were going to join him.

“Jagiya, nooo,” Jimin pouted at you and reached out with his hands once you maneuvered yourself from the pile of bodies and were standing in front of the couch waiting for Jin. You breathed out a laugh and leaned over Jungkook to kiss the pink-haired man.

“Are we going to bed?” Taehyung’s sleep riddled voice is probably two-three octaves lower than his normal pitch. His hair has been messed up and his face is now puffy. Something you find incredibly endearing as he slowly sits up and looks at you in question with barely opened eyes.

You quietly giggle and to your side, you hear Namjoon mumble, “How cute.” Taehyung takes your outstretched hands and allows you to guide him. Jin is already walking to his room with one of the many blankets wrapped around him.

“Are we sleeping in Jin’s bed tonight?” Taehyung stumbles into your side.

“Mhmm.”

Your eyes rake over the five boys left on the couch. “Are you guys going to be okay out here?”

“No,” Yoongi wriggles from underneath Jungkook until he’s off the couch and he greedily grabs your hand, “I’m going to bed too.”

“We’ll be fine,” Hoseok reassures you as Jimin shifts so he’s laying next to Jungkook, arms wrapped around his torso and legs wrapped around his hips. You intertwine your fingers with Hoseok’s using your free hand and bend over to quickly meet his lips.

Namjoon stands to meet you. “Happy birthday, baby.” You smile into the kiss and Namjoon gently squeezes your sides. He gives you another kiss, this one shorter but just as sweet.

Namjoon sits back down next to Hoseok and rests his arm on the back of Hoseok’s shoulders as you lead Taehyung and Yoongi to Jin’s room you. By the time you all enter, Jin has brushed his teeth and is changed into his pajamas. At seeing you with company, he breathes out a laugh and walks to his closet to pull out a couple more pillows and throws them on the bed. After you all complete your bedtime routine, you squeeze yourself under the covers and curl into Jin’s side. Yoongi slides into bed after you and shuffles so his chest is completely pressed to your back and you’re sandwiched between the two of them. Taehyung grabs one of the extra pillows and hugs it to his chest before falling onto the bed, his back against Yoongi’s.

You breathe into Jin’s neck, content and warm. “I’m gonna’ have to make a post or video to upload for my birthday, tomorrow,” you drowsily murmur.

“It’s a good thing you’re going to be filming then because the actual surprise Jungkook planned was for tomorrow. He knew you would be expecting him to do something today,” Jin responds back.

You do little to contain your smile in the dark room. “I know. We’re soulmates and he’s an idiot, there’s not a lot him or any of you can hide from me.”

Tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt @detectivebourbon @omgsuperstarg

[orteil42]

really quick rant about dumb peripherals, nothing interesting just need to get this off my chest before i lose my mind

i just want a fucking mouse with fucking buttons that do the things they’re supposed to do how is this so fucking hard. just a regular bluetooth mouse with no bells or whistles. left click, right click, and a middle button that can tilt left and right, like the last 5+ mice i’ve had. so i bought the logitech MX anywhere 2 because hey logitech is a decent brand right ? i’ve been buying logitech mice for years and they always did the job. think again fucko; that middle mouse button ? haha yeah it doesn’t do jack shit, it’s just to ~toggle smooth scrolling~ and you can’t even remap it, it doesn’t send anything to the computer. this is a $60 mouse, in 2019, with no middle button functionality, something that every 3d game and other software has implemented for maybe 20 years. so i spent an evening installing drivers and third-party apps in a depression-bargaining-acceptance cycle, then gave up and decided to just return it and buy another one. not logitech tho because if they can fuck up a simple standard mouse how the hell am i gonna trust them with my money ? they’d probably lose it to some nigerian prince or spend it all on essential oils. so i bought the microsoft bluetooth mobile mouse 3600 because hey microsoft should be fine right ? again i’ve been buying microsoft mice for years and i never had a goddamn problem. UNTIL NOW, BUDDY. yeah there’s a middle mouse button ! and it works ! and the site advertises wheel tilt too, wonderful ! that’s all i need ! oh yeah except wheel tilt is locked to horizontal scrolling - you know, like the thing that comes in handy in maybe 0.03% of all websites in existence. oh you want to remap that ? haha sure cool, except the microsoft app they make you download to do that not only doesn’t let you remap the wheel tilt, it actually fucks up how the wheel is handled in third-party remapping software. the remapping awkwardly half-works in most places and just plain isn’t acknowledged in browsers (where i actually need it). mapping the wheel tilt to mouse 4 and 5 is something that every mouse i’ve had previously let you do (and had on by default). have i taken it for granted ? has my basic featureset grown so alien that it’s no longer considered the standard by designers ? is 2 buttons and a mouse wheel too much to ask ? i am only a man. who can i trust now ? i’ve purchased two duds from two companies that were making perfectly serviceable hardware until they decided hey ! that’s enough of that. these are products that are objectively downgrades from previous iterations. i don’t understand. how do you fuck up something this simple ? something you were making just fine for several decades ? surely this can’t be a money issue. did you fire the wrong designers ? is there a patent on making usable mice that you’re no longer allowed to replicate ? is it something in the water ? it just. it boggles the mind. i like to think of myself as someone gifted with patience and understanding. i pride myself in my non-violence and my cold temper. but if there is one thing that gets me fired up. ONE thing. it is shitty product design from companies that should know better. this scares me to no end. sure, this is just a dumb tiny mouse, but again - if you can’t even do that correctly, what are you going to destroy next ? i’m already typing this on a laptop where the “Off” button was mysteriously designed to look and feel just like the rest of the keyboard, making it very easy to accidentally turn it off when i thought i was pressing a numpad button. i’m typing this on a website that’s somehow become the standard blogging platform while bumbling awkwardly from blunder to blunder, aggressively worsening itself with every update. is design dead ? was i wrong about what the very concept of progress should mean ? is this a harbinger of dark times to come ? in short : i am disgruntled. thank you