#myc talks politics
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mixupmycota · 14 hours ago
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i should probably talk more directly about the state of things so
i am not from the US. I have to pay very close attention to american politics, because those same politics are being exported out and diffused to the rest of the world at varying speeds, and it's part of knowing the enemy there.
first trump presidency i was a LOT more politically active than i am right now and kept abridge of everything. I was also someone who was warning my friends when he first announced his run that he would likely win, and I was not taken seriously. I was not taken seriously on most things until the january 6 riots.
I grew up learning to read on records of ww2 atrocity. From the 2010's forward, I have kept tabs on far right groups around the world, how they mobilize and radicalize, and how the leaders of america, australia, new zealand, england and canada cooperate in order to create a sort of staggered escalator of oppression, laundering each others reputations.
trump announced his open nazi intent multiple times during his first presidency. he talked on twitter about forming a millenium empire. people did not take me seriously when i raised alarm flags about this. i am not making this post to scare people or otherwise fear monger, but because i think it is important to be clear on this.
do not underestimate him, or musk, or zuckerberg, because of internalized ableism. do not, for a second, think these men are "too dumb" to carry out their plans. they specifically cultivate that perception and have successfully weaponized it for a very long time.
the next four years At Least for those over there are going to be very, very dangerous, barring an uprising that removes him from power briskly.
if you are in any way marginalized over there, you need to be so careful, and you need to be practical about it. you need to decide if being open and out and bold about gender and sexuality is something you can survive, if someone becomes violent about it.
there is no shame in it if the answer is no. there is no shame in retreating back into the closet for this and scrubbing information that marks you as queer in any way from your paperwork and online presences. i suggest using a different name for gender purposes online than the one you do offline in your private life. make yourself difficult to track down.
regardless of the answer you land on, you need to be prepared. doubly so if your marginalization is not something that can be socially concealed.
prep a go bag, i am so serious. especially if you're in a centre or right wing leaning state.
get your important documentation together, anything you cannot afford to lose. a first aid kit, and learn how to use it. a couple boxes worth of protein bars or nutrient supplement drinks, and aim for a few hundred dollars of cash to have on hand in it too.
even if you think you could not possibly need it, i recommend this. it's helpful in the case of natural disaster or abusive family life as well.
if you do not have neighborhood community level ties and it wouldn't be suicidally dangerous to try: start cultivating these. you want to have a face to your neighbors. you want them to have positive associations with you. you want them to care if a disruption happens in your environment.
i can't give specific advice for this in a general post, because everyone's circumstances will be different, but there's been countless wonderful organization efforts in the US to draw inspiration from on approach.
if you cannot do this, and you only have online community ties: everyone needs to tighten those up. everyone needs to upskill in their communication levels. there is no room for petty infighting that can fracture solidarity. everyone needs to be able to trust each other in a crisis to step up and offer what help they can - whether that is emergency funds, or willingness to shelter someone for even a couple of hours.
if you are cis and white and straight, or it's not known that you're not straight, i encourage you strongly to be someone who initiates efforts to get to know others in the local community, to make it easier for everyone else to participate in this. there are lots of different roles to play, and you will have strengths that will lend themselves to different ones. but you can be a protective barrier for people, and if you have space to spare consider how you would shelter people if they needed it.
rehearse being willing to open your door, if there is violence outside it. rehearse being brave and letting someone who is running away seek shelter even for a couple of minutes inside your place.
prepare for the worst and be pleasantly surprised by anything else. if you think you might need to migrate if it gets very bad, start setting aside money for this now. Even if it is just a dollar a day.
and for the love of god kill the cop and HOA member inside your head.
edit to add:
also PLEASE if you are not armed and actually militantly serious about it and involved with others on an organization level do not put open statements on your online profile info that you're a communist or an anarchist
Do not tie this to your legal name and to your face. Anywhere. And if you're doing truly serious organizational work, do not be doing it on discord. Telegram, at the minimum.
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lisbeth-kk · 8 months ago
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May Prompts (23) Apology
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The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter23)
Summary: Rosie shares a surprise with her parents and uncle. All of them have different thoughts about this unexpected development, and silent negotiations are carried out.
Twenty-Three Years Old
I knew that Papa not fully understood my reason for studying international politics and data, but to his credit he didn’t for one second try to convince me to give it another thought and opt for something science related instead. Dad was just relieved that I’d finally had found a path to walk, after several failed attempts. Uncle Myc, well he tried to hide how utterly pleased he was with my choice, but by now I knew him well enough to read the signs. Truth be told, said signs weren’t that subtle.
“Bien choisi ma chérie,” he beamed at me, while Papa scowled at him.
“Merci oncle,” I retorted. “I can’t wait to start this and go to Paris.”
The three-year BA degree was taught by The University of London Institute in Paris. We would be taught in English, but if we had an A level in French, we could also take French courses. I’d learned French in school for years, and uncle Myc and I often conversed in French when uncle Greg wasn’t around.
I think it’s needless to say that my security and comfort in France was well taken care of. Papa and uncle Myc had a conversation using their eyes only when I spilled the beans. Dad knew exactly what was going on and went to make tea while negotiations were carried out. Once the brothers were satisfied, uncle Myc took out his phone and sent several texts or emails. By now, I knew it’ll be futile to pester any of them of what was going on. I was just relieved that no one had tried to talk me out of it, making me feel uncertain or guilty for leaving the country; actually, moving out of my childhood home.
My reasons for choosing this subject were multifaceted. I’d always enjoyed learning facts, obscure and otherwise, about different countries and cultures. Having had a relatively unorthodox upbringing, containing all sorts of people, played a big part too. The cherry on top was that the school was abroad. Nana’s tales of her experiences overseas and how educating it is to have lived some time in another country and society, had always seemed enticing to me.
***
The university was situated close to the Invalides and the Seine, while my lodgings were in the Charonne area in the 11th arrondissement on a cosy cobble street, with a nearby metro station. My landlady, Marguerite Vachon was one of uncle Myc’s acquaintances, from where, I still have no idea. 
Marguerite preferred that I used her given name instead of the formal, Madame Vachon.
“Je ne suis pas ancient,” was her favourite line and reminded me quite a lot of Nana.
“I am not ancient, dear,” was a statement Nana had used every so often.
Marguerite was a petite and elegant woman. Her hair was cut in a bob, coloured black with a few red stripes. I never saw her without lipstick or makeup. She always wore bespoke dresses and high heeled shoes. I deduced that she was far more than a landlady. When I left for school in the morning, I could hear her sing or talk on the phone, and when I returned, she always opened her door and inquired about my day.
“She’s clearly spying for Mycroft,” Papa’s voice told me.
And there was something about her, which I couldn’t put my finger on. Something mysterious, secret, perhaps even dangerous. 
***
It seemed like Marguerite had my schedule memorised. Not that I’d given her the information, but when she slipped, I got my suspicions confirmed. To be fair, it wasn’t slipping per se. She couldn’t have known that class was dismissed early that day.
Luckily, I spotted her and was able to hide behind a wall before she saw me. I’d almost missed her, because she wasn’t wearing her normal dress and high heels, but red trousers, a white and blue-striped jumper, and white trainers. Instead of one of her posh handbags, she had a dark blue canvas bag diagonally draped over her chest.
Papa had taught me a few tricks when it came to the fine art of following people without being discovered. I’ve never had much use of them obviously, but now I saw an opportunity. How I would explain this and apologise if I was caught, never crossed my mind.
I was sceptical when Marguerite walked to the metro station, but I was able to get into the same carriage as her, and it seemed that she had no idea she was being followed. She got off three stops later and walked in the direction of the big Père-Lachaise cemetery.
A fitting location for obscure and shady affairs.
Marguerite knew where she was going, walking briskly but not hurried. I had walked the premises several times before and knew where she was headed when I saw the grand tomb of Sir Richard Wallace, the British baronet who contributed millions to the Parisian poor during the Siege of Paris in the early 1870s.
This reeked of another posh Brit I knew.
When Marguerite had placed a folder by the tomb and another woman picked it up five minutes later, I had a hard time keeping myself composed. The woman picking up the folder was the French equivalent of Anthea.
I sent uncle Myc a text when both women were out of sight.
Thanks for keeping track on me, but this thing is like being part of a French noir film. You can tell Papa I think you’re both growing sentimental, and I demand an apology!
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autolenaphilia · 2 years ago
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This is a terrible post, OP. This post might seem authoritative at first glance, almost like a historical article, but if you look at the sources, it's pretty bad as history. It's pretty much all "secondary sources", i.e. people who aren't baeddels talking about what the baeddels believed. A lot of the archived links (like the baeddel.txt blog) don't show anything substantive about the ideology the baeddels had, or frankly that they even had a distinct ideology in the first place. A lot of it isn't even about a self-described baeddel, but monetizeyourcat.
Actual historians are very careful about using secondary sources, especially if they as in this post are pretty much all hostile to the baeddels.
When you are describing or making arguments about what a group believed, you have to look at the source material, what members of the group actually said. This applies even if the group's ideology is bad or bigoted, because this is not a obligation to the group being described or criticized, but an obligation to your readers to be as diligent as possible. Like if i read an article about terf ideology, and all the sources are criticisms of terfism, instead of stuff actual terfs have written like "The Transsexual Empire", I would be very critical of that article even if i agree with its conclusions. It's probably derivative at least.
You might argue that the baeddels deserve it because they are bad people, but some of the sources are really suspect. They seem to cross the line from valid criticisms of transfems into transmisogyny.
Like this post by theunitofcaring is used as a source for MYC believing gender is a choice (and by extension baeddels), which is again a bad source because it's not a post by MYC or a baeddel stating this, But worse, the post seems to imply that MYC recruited vulnerable men into being trans women by inducing dysphoria via the sheer force of her misandry posting.
This post by kontextmaschine seems to imply the same thing, by claiming MYC preyed on "clever guys who had not taken themselves firmly for granted as guys," via her “political lesbianism with morally obligatory universal MtF transition” bit."
This post is also linked and suggests MYC had a "long term campaign of grooming people into a warped trans simulacra."
Some of the sources feel barely related to the subject at all. There is a ???? link to turn-me-into-a-girl.com which is only contextualized by another kontextmaschine post that claims it's a similar thing to what MYC did and actually uses the word recruitment. Like the site is frankly wholesome and just tells people "if you want to be a girl, that's a symptom of being a girl." And it has nothing to do with baeddels to my knowledge, it's irrelevant? like are you just padding out the post with hyperlinks to make it look authoritative at this point? This is bad.
And in case anyone reading this does not know, the "recruitment" argument is an old anti-LGBT canard, which has been used against queer people since forever. It's been used against cis gay people, and nowadays it's increasingly used against trans people, that's what the whole "groomer" conspiracy thing is about. MYC should be criticized, she has allegations of abuse against her from other transfems ,but I think these posts are criticizing her in transmisogynistic ways. These posts are going beyond concrete allegations of abuse into vague fearmongering about her having decieved people into being trans.
The worst source however is this one, which is just terfs doing terf shit, discussing MYC and other trans women in very explicitly transmisogynistic ways. And it's just linked uncritically in the above source. Nothorses, your pinned post currently has a disclaimer about how you are not and never have been a terf. I believe you, but you might not have to do that if you don't do shit like this.
The rest of the post is like this, pretty much all secondary sources on baeddel beliefs (without sources themselves), with almost no links to what the baeddels actually posted, and the few links there are don't prove they believe what you say they believed.
Now, you might defend yourself by saying the original baeddel blogs are mostly long deactivated, so it's hard to find those posts now. And that's true.
And that brings up the obvious question: why does this matter? Even if there was a baeddelism and "those ideas are fundamentally dangerous.", if the source texts for that ideology only existed on long-deleted tumblr blogs, it feels not relevant and thus not that dangerous.
Why bring up years dead tumblr cliques? Is there even danger of this ideology spreading on tumblr if those posts are deleted? How does this ideology have concrete negative systemic effects outside of tumblr? Terfs have influenced policy for over 40 years now. What have baeddels done that is comparable?
I'm not denying the allegations of abusive behaviour, including rape, against individual baeddels. But again the reality of these abusive actions are not that relevant to my criticism.These actions are brought up for the purpose of criticizing a certain ideology, and I'm not convinced by this post that this ideology exists in any distinct form.
“Baeddelism” was only one name for a set of beliefs that existed long before the specific term did, and hasn’t gone anywhere since the original Baeddel movement died down." So where are the source texts for this ideology? Where is the Baeddel manifesto? Influential and thus potentially dangerous ideologies have books written and published expounding them, where are the baeddel books?
Speaking of those, your claims about radical feminism are actually easily refuted, because radfems have published books, which you do not cite and which you should read before trying to explain their ideology.
I actually fully agree with you that "Radical feminism is not a redeemable ideology." But I would argue that I have a better grasp of what that ideology is. It's true that radfems believe "misogyny is the root of all oppression."
But the reason they believe that is because they thnik it has its roots in biology. The classic radfem text on the matter is The Dialectic of Sex by Shulamith Firestone, from 1970. Firestone and other radfems argued that "sex class sprang directly from biological reality. Men and women were created different, and not equally privileged." Women's oppression and men's dominant role comes from "the reproductive functions of these differences. The biological family is an inherently unequal power distribution." (from the first chapter of The Dialectic of Sex).
Firestone's book and other writings doesn't mention trans people at all, to my knowledge, but the cisnormative and biologically determinist views of early radfems like her had lead quite naturally to terf thought, which gained its mature expression by 1979 in Janice Raymond's The Transsexual Empire.
When being a woman and experiencing oppression and misogyny is defined entirely all on the basis of having a womb, of biological reproduction, there is not much room for trans women to be anything but an appropriative parody of womanhood. Radfem ideology is thus inherently transmisogynist. It doesn't account for our experience of womanhood.
The reason I'm explaining this is in part to show how important going to the source texts of an ideology can be. You can't just rely on second-hand explanations to write about why an ideology is bad, you have to go to the sources yourself and analyze them.
But more importantly it casts doubt on your explanation of what baeddelism is. You claim it can also be called “TIRF-ism”: Trans-Inclusive Radical Feminism", that baeddelism was "a rebranded form of Radical Feminism." But that makes no sense, since radfem theory is kinda not trans-inclusive by default, due to its biological determinist assumptions.
You evade that contradiction by being vague about the reasoning behind radfems beliefs about the primacy of misogyny as an oppression. Radfems don't believe trans women experience an intersection of misogyny and transphobia, because both being a woman and experiencing misogyny is all on the basis of having a womb. They also believe transphobia is good actually. Transmisogyny theory is not very compatible with radfem theory. So your explanation of what baeddelism/tirfism is doesn't make much sense.
So yeah, this is not a very good post. It's appallingly sourced, relying almost entirely on hostile and sometimes dubious secondary sources to explain an ideology I'm not sure exists in a distinct form. All your warnings about how baeddelism or TIRfism is a widespread ideology honestly feels paranoid.
Let's Talk About Bæddels: A Comprehensive Retrospective
(This post on Medium)
(@thequeer-quill's video reading)
Disclaimer
This post is not claiming that trans women do not suffer, or do not suffer as much as other groups of trans people. It is not claiming that all trans women are Baeddels (or adjacent), nor is it claiming that trans women oppress anyone else.
Transmisogyny is real, and requires much more acknowledgement than it currently receives. The trans community is very much capable of transmisogyny, and often does enact or enable it; likewise, trans people also often enact and enable transphobia against other parts of the trans community.
If you take only one thing from the following, take this:
We all need to work on being better allies to each other. None of us can gain anything without the rest of us.
Setting the Stage for Baeddelism
We can’t talk about Baeddelism without talking about Tumblr user @monetizeyourcat (“Cat”), and the ideology she popularized on the website in the early 2010’s.
Cat was a loud voice with a huge blog in the early days of Tumblr. Most of her popular content was humor-based, but she also championed an ideology that synthesized certain aspects of feminism, transfeminism, and communist ideals. Cat’s ideology is better explained here, and can be further explored here, but this is the foundation:
Manhood is inherently oppressive, and cannot exist outside the context of oppression.
Gender can be, to some extent, a choice.
Because of the above, one’s gender is an ethical choice with ethical consequences.
Being a man is, therefore, ethically harmful and wrong; particularly if you are giving up womanhood in order to be a man.
Being a woman is, therefore, ethically correct; particularly if you are giving up manhood in order to be a woman.
You may recognize some of the ideas here as a version of Radical Feminism: namely, the idea that manhood/men are inherently oppressive, and that womanhood/women are inherently victims.
All Cat had to do was map Radical Feminism onto the trans community. If manhood is Bad, and men are Bad, then trans men who reject womanhood in favor of becoming men are Bad. If womanhood is Good, and women are Good, then trans women who reject manhood in favor of womanhood are The Best. Which, of course, would also explain why society hates them more than any other trans person (something taken for granted by Cat and many others at the time).
This foundation was built upwards into a more complicated system of beliefs: cis men were viewed as “potential trans women”, people who did not yet know whether they were trans, had not made that choice, and could, conceivably, still choose to be women. As such, cis men were often seen as “better” than trans men. Trans men were encouraged to detransition, men in general were encouraged to reject their manhood in favor of womanhood, and “sissification” became a hallmark “joke” that the community forming around Cat latched onto.
The “gender is a choice” part of this ideology is a bit hard for most trans people to swallow, and Cat herself did not entirely ascribe to the idea that gender was always a choice. Still, even if men were intrinsically and inherently men, and even if they couldn’t simply choose not to be men the way she had, the idea remained that the so-called “ethical consequences” of being a man, and the harm this did to The Collective, vastly outweighed the personal harm suffered by “remaining” or “becoming” a woman. It was, in short, more ethical to suffer dysphoria in pursuit of womanhood than it was to accept one’s manhood.
It’s unclear whether Cat ever identified as a Baeddel, and she certainly didn’t begin the movement herself. She was definitely close to it, though, and many attest that her ideology constituted the building blocks of the Baeddelism movement.
Establishing an Ideology
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The first post on Baeddelism was by Tumblr user @unobject, on October 2nd, 2013, and liked by @lezzyharpy, also one of the original Baeddels:
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(Credit to @AcesArosandEnbies)
This post first provided the name and defining ideology of the Baeddel movement. The conclusion drawn from the post was, essentially, that because the root of the word “bad” was “baeddel”, and because “baeddel” referred to intersex people and “womanish men”, this old English slur was proof that transmisogyny was the worst form of bigotry; and even, perhaps, the root of all bigotry. (It’s worth noting that this etymology is likely inaccurate and ahistorical, along with problematic in several other ways.)
While @unobject was the first person to make this connection, @autogynephile (“Eve”) eventually became, in essence, the figurehead of the movement. Of the other Baeddels, some of them were explicitly aware and supportive of the ideology behind Baeddelism, some of them were young or newly-out trans women seduced by the personalities involved, and some of them were tangential enough to the movement that they didn’t really even know what it was. Baeddelism was a sort of trend, for a time, and many participants wore the name without entirely knowing what it meant.
It’s important to acknowledge that as much as there were dedicated members of Baeddelism, and as much as there was a unified ideology behind it, there were also individual Baeddels who did not understand- let alone support- the ideology.
That said…
The Belief System
Baeddels essentially built upon the foundation of @monetizeyourcat’s ideology that had been gaining traction on Tumblr in the years prior, with some additions that ultimately defined their movement:
Transmisogyny is the form of oppression from which all (or most) other forms of oppression stem.
Privilege is granted on the basis of assigned sex. (“AFAB” or “Assigned Female at Birth” vs. “AMAB” or “Assigned Male at Birth”)
These fundamentals of Baeddelism were essentially a rebranded form of Radical Feminism, much like Cat’s ideology. In particular, they drew from the Radical Feminist idea that misogyny was the “primary” form of oppression; that which all other oppression stemmed from. Baeddels only tweaked this idea to replace “misogyny” with “transmisogyny”, which led to the rest of the conclusions Baeddels drew:
Men are inherently oppressors, and women are inherently oppressed.
Trans women are inherently victims.
Because only AMAB people can experience transmisogyny, they are inherently more oppressed than AFAB people.
“AFAB Privilege”: The idea that within the queer and/or trans community, AFAB people receive unique privilege and positions of power that AMAB people do not.
There is no “transphobia” separate from “transmisogyny”. All transphobia stems from transmisogyny first, and transphobia as it impacts non-transfeminine trans people is incidental at most.
It’s important to note that these ideas were not all as universal as the first two, and different individual Baeddels held them to different extents.
Trans Lesbian Separatism
… was what the movement was ultimately defined by, as the logical conclusion of their other beliefs (much like Lesbian Separatism was the logical conclusion of Radical Feminist beliefs).
Baeddels believed that only trans women can understand, or be truly safe for, other trans women; therefore, contact with anyone who was not a trans woman was deemed “dangerous” and highly discouraged.
Trans Men
… also played an important role in Baeddel ideology, and the resulting treatment of trans men is what is often remembered today. Baeddels generally believed the following, either explicitly or implictly:
Trans men are not oppressed, nor marginalized at all.
Trans men do not experience transmisogyny.
Trans men do not experience misogyny, even prior to transition.
Trans men have access to male privilege.
Trans men have an easier time passing, and frequently go “stealth”; thus benefiting from male privilege as well as cis privilege.
Trans men are often (or always) misogynistic and transmisogynistic, and are not held accountable for this.
Trans men actively “choose” manhood even when presented with the “option” of womanhood.
Trans men oppress cis women.
Trans women enacting violence on trans men is “punching up” at oppressors, and therefore not only permitted, but encouraged.
Trans men become aggressive and violent when they go on testosterone HRT.
Nonbinary People
… are often overlooked when summarizing Baeddelism, but Baeddels did have plenty to say about them. Baeddel ideology relied on the idea that privilege was granted on the bases of assigned sex, and nonbinary people’s genders were thus treated as irrelevent; they essentially did not believe nonbinary people truly existed.
CAFAB nonbinary people are either trans men attempting to invade women’s spaces, or cis women pretending to be trans.
CAMAB nonbinary people are actually just trans women who haven’t accepted it yet. They must transition, or they are transmisogynistic.
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Intersex People
Intersex experiences, and intersex history, were often co-opted and erased by Baeddelism. This was often more a byproduct of their beliefs than an overtly-stated idea, but most notably, the term “Baeddel” itself is likely more applicable- if not exclusively applicable- to intersex people, rather than trans women. Making their reclamation of it as a “transmisogynistic slur”, or their claim that the word’s existence means that “transmisogyny is the root of all oppression”, incredibly ignorant- if not actively harmful misinformation.
Notably, Baeddels also believed that intersex people- being “more androgynous” (a harmful misonception)- were able to pass more easily as the opposite assigned sex, and that intersex people even within transfemme spaces had “intersex privilege”. Some even believed, and openly claimed, that intersex people were “hermaphroditic”; a slur against intersex people, and typically implying that the individual has both sets of reproductive systems simultaneously.
Trans Women
… did not receive universally positive treatment, either. Baeddelism was very much a cult-like group built around the firmly-held conviction that they were absolutely correct, and that anyone who disagreed with them was The Enemy. Trans women who disagreed with them were generally seen as brainwashed and self-hating, and trans women who did agree with them were expected to subjugate themselves to the ringleaders of the movement.
Within Baeddel circles, trans women were most frequently victimized by the abusers allowed to run rampant because “trans women do not, and cannot, harm anyone else.” - Including, apparently, each other.
“They were also bad shitty abusive people in general. “… a bunch of them passed around a pile of smear campaigns and false rumors about virtually any trans woman that they had a even the slightest animosity for. Including the victim of the kinkster rapist. They’ve done other fucked stuff, like chased two twoc off this site for trying to make a zine, but yeah. That’s like, just some of it. I’m not up for going over the messy details of the whole shitparade “Full disclosure, I made a lot of excuses for these sacks of crap, even while they were out there spreading false crap about me [���] I wasn’t aware of the worst shit they were doing until much much later." - @punlich
Inside the Movement
Though individual Baeddels often existed in vastly different social circles from each other- particularly offline- those who lived through the movement highlight commonalities in their experiences.
One interviewee recounts the manipulation present in their initial involvement with the movement:
“It came to me at a point where I was very quick to weaponize anything anyone told me about their experiences, because I was always a fighter. I’ve been an activist for a long time, you know, and when these trans women would come to me with their experiences I would believe them. I wanted to. But the way they acted didn’t add up when compared to what they were saying. I felt really lonely there, and stupid all the time. I felt like I was being a bad trans person.” […] “Online they were more willing to say things that were, for lack of a better word, stupid. They would say things that lacked any kind of logical sense. But in person, they would go into this kind of toxic femininity- this weaponization of weakness. And I think that’s because online they were often in these echochambers, but in person they had to rely on much more subtle manipulation.” - Vera
It seems at points that the environment created within this movement- and the social circles that composed it- was almost cult-like in nature and in need for control.
“It was very isolating. I didn’t see my friends for a while, I was kind of just living with them, cooking and cleaning for them, starving myself, and slowly growing crazy. I was just being consumed by this weird academia and theory that had no basis, because everything was online and Tumblr-based.” - Vera
When Bæddels Took Them: An interview and reflection on the Bæddelism movement
Perhaps most chilling, however, are the patterns in their attitudes toward sexual assault. One interviewer recounts being subject to sexual assault, and upon posting about their experience to a Facebook group, being met with hostility from Baeddels present in the group- who quickly used their social influence to have them banned from some of their only support systems at the time.
“I ended up with pretty much no one to talk to about the experience at a time when I was already really, really struggling, and it’s one of several factors that led to me dropping out. “The Baeddel who got me banned also messaged me directly at some point during all of this, and I tried to get her to understand the pain she was causing me. She basically laughed it off and said it was my fault. She seemed to find a lot of joy in how much it hurt me, and blocked me soon after.” - Anonymous
Another recounts sexual consent violations from a friend-turned-Baeddel:
“[My ex-friend] had previously been fetish-mining me for her mommy kink. I was freshly estranged from my own mum, and she stepped in to be like, “I’m your new mum now,” and would pester me to call her “mum” in Welsh- as at that point she was going by a Welsh name. I played along, but it transpired that she was basically using that to get off, and she had a thing for infantilising transmascs and being this mum/mom figure.” - Luke
And yet another interviewee discusses verbal sexual harassment during interactions with another Baeddel:
“I had one [Baeddel] directly tell me that I’m beneath her as a trans man, and that I should “Shut my smelly cooch up” and only use my voice to uplift trans women. I was a minor at the time. “She then sicced her followers on me, and they bombarded me with messages telling me I’d “never be a real man”, that I needed to “sit on the side and allow them to have the spotlight”, and even telling me to kill myself- because I was inherently toxic to them. I was 16 years old, pre everything, and I couldn’t even pass at the time. They didn’t seem to care that I was a minor, or a newly hatched egg.” - Anonymous
Brushes with Bæddels: Recalling the Bæddel movement
While Baeddel ideology itself does not explicitly condone or excuse sexual assault, it’s striking how common these stories are; especially considering how small in numbers actual Baeddels were.
It was, in fact, this exact problem that would eventually cause the movement to dissolve.
The Downfall of Baeddelism
Sometime between the group’s formation in 2013 and their downfall near the end of 2014, @autogynephile (also “Eve”), the defacto “ringleader” of the Baeddel movement, began what Baeddels referred to as a “transbian safehouse”.
This was apparently intended as a place for unhoused trans woman lesbians and trans women who, in general, had sworn off contact with men; the ultimate goal of the lesbian separatist ideology at the core of the Baeddel movement. It was thus also referred to as a “commune” by some, and as a “cult” by others.
One occupant of the “safehouse”- Elle- later posted to Tumblr that they had been raped by Eve during their stay, and detailed their experiences.
The Baeddels, rather than believing the victim and ousting the rapist from their movement, chose to close ranks around Eve.
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Various reasons were given for this:
The victim must be lying
The victim- and anyone who believed them- was simply transmisogynistic.
Anyone who disagrees with the Baeddels is an Enemy Of The Movement, a “carceral thinker”, and a danger to trans women as a whole.
Trans women are incapable of sexually abusing anyone.
“Standing with Eve” was the ultimate sign of loyalty to the movement, and thus a mark of pride and honor.
It was okay to keep being a Baeddel no matter what, because Rape Accusations Should Be A Personal Matter.
(You can read more about Eve’s own denial of these events here and here.)
Years later, even people involved in the initial group have spoken out against the movement and actions of those involved:
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(@lezzyharpy was one of the original Baeddels, and one of the first people to like the first “Baeddel” post by @unobject).
This was not the only instance of abuse by people associated with Baeddelism.
Elle posted their statement on August 4th, 2014; between that time and September of the same year, another user by the name of Quinn posted about her own experiences with abuse at the hands of @monetizeyourcat. Cat’s roommates in Seattle posted about their experiences with Cat shortly after Quinn did. Both parties alleged that Cat had been a manipulative and abusive roommate, friend, and partner.
Cat first attempted to argue the accusations, then later admitted that they were true and left the site. Her blog still contains her parting message. It has been pointed out that this is not necessarily an action taken in good faith and desire for growth.
The reception of her abuse allegations followed a similar pattern to Eve’s: people who ascribed to her ideology, Baeddels included, believed that Cat was not and could not have been abusive, as a trans woman. Others ignored warnings about her past and potential future actions, citing transmisogyny as the reason she must have been accused at all.
It has also been pointed out that Cat’s ideology (and, relatedly, Baeddel ideology) was extremely conducive to abuse- if not entirely constructed in order to allow abuse.
Why It Matters, and Why Baeddelism Never Really Fell
Baeddelism itself has seen multiple attempts at resurgences by various individuals, including documented experiences with self-proclaimed Baeddels as recently as 2018- well after the movement first “fell” in 2014.
Most proponents of “Baeddelism 2.0”, a revival of the original movement, argue that the abuse that occurred within the original movement was either completely fabricated by detractors (sound familiar?) or, at minimum, not actually inherent to the ideology.
And, of course, there are some original Baeddels still active on Tumblr today.
Baeddelism never actually went away.
“Baeddelism” was only one name for a set of beliefs that existed long before the specific term did, and hasn’t gone anywhere since the original Baeddel movement died down.
What the Baeddels did was put a name to the ideology @monetizeyourcat was cultivating before them, and what Cat did was popularize, centralize, and justify a way of thinking that had existed before she ever made her blog.
This ideology has since been referred to, loosely, as “TIRF-ism”: Trans-Inclusive Radical Feminism.
It is rare that anyone actually refers to themselves as a “TIRF”, and there is no real centralized TIRF movement; rather, a loose collection of radical feminist beliefs circulates various transgender spaces. The validity of these beliefs is generally taken for granted: of course (trans) women are The Most Oppressed People; of course (trans) women are Inherently and Unequivocally Victims In All Situations; of course (trans) men are Inherently Oppressors; of course (trans) men are Dangerous and Evil… and so on.
Like Radical Feminism, and subsequently Trans-Exlcusive Radical Feminism (TERF-ism), those ideas are fundamentally dangerous.
The defining tenants of radical feminism are that misogyny is the root of all oppression, and that rather than misogyny being an issue of power and control on a society-wide level, it is instead, or also, a matter of oppression and privilege on an individual level: men are always oppressors, and women are always victims.
These beliefs fundamentally exclude and erase the experiences of other marginalized people.
Namely, people of color and indigenous people, who’s experiences with and concepts of gender do not fall within the strict and rigid lines that white, western, colonialist people’s do.
Radical feminism is not a redeemable ideology. It cannot be reshaped into something good. It is fundamentally broken, and the movements born from it- lesbian separatism, political lesbianism, TERF-ism, TIRF-ism, and Baeddelism- are proof enough of that. They each promote only surface-level variations of what is fundamentally cult-like thinking: only the in-group can be victimized. Only the in-group is safe; the out-group is inherently and universally dangerous. Only the in-group understands you. All members of the in-group are, fundamentally, incapable of abuse.
We cannot allow these ideas to be perpetuated within or without the trans community.
Learn the Signs & Prevent the Harm
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Here’s what we can do to prevent this from happening again:
Learn what Baeddel ideology and TIRFism look like, even detached from the name.
Learn what radical feminism looks like, even detached from the name. Even from people who claim to oppose radical feminism.
Act on dogwhistles. Call them what they are.
Do not allow people to downplay the harm all forms of Radical Feminism have caused. Remind each other that Radical Feminism is not a redeemable ideology, and seek out other branches of feminism instead.
Remember the harm that has been caused. Remember that it will be caused again if these things are allowed to go unchecked.
Listen to and uplift marginalized people. Allow them to speak to their own experiences, identify their own needs, and name their own oppression.
Remember who the real oppressors are, and do not pit marginalized people against each other. The people perpetuating and benefiting from transphobia are cis people- and more specifically, cis people in power.
Build solidarity with other marginalized people. One group of trans people cannot gain liberation without liberating all trans people, and one group of trans people cannot be targeted without the rest of us suffering as well.
Remember that there is no group or identity incapable of enacting abuse, violence, harassment, or other harm against another. Victimhood should not be determined based solely on an individual’s identity.
Remember that there are no acceptable targets for violence, cruelty, harassment, and abuse.
Red Flags to watch out for:
Using, or interacting with people who use, “Baeddel” as any form of self-description.
Downplaying the harm original Baeddels did: calling them “misled”, their actions “mistakes”, etc. without acknowledging the specific issues.
Obfuscating, ignoring, or erasing the abuse and rape allegations against members of the Baeddel movement.
Obfuscating, ignoring, or erasing the harm done to other transfemmes by Baeddels.
Dismissing, erasing, punishing/ostracizing, disavowing, or treating with suspicion transfeminine people who do not agree with Baeddel or radfem ideology. Insisting all or most transfemmes agree with Baeddel or radfem ideas.
Claiming TERFs only target, harm, or have ill will for trans women/transfemmes. Using “TWERF” or “TWEF” instead of “TERF”.
Claiming transmasculine people should not have any say in conversations about misogyny, transphobia, and/or TERFs.
Talking about “AFAB Privilege”, or otherwise implying that AFAB people share any qualities aside from being assigned female at birth.
Referring to trans people by AGAB, TME/TMA distinction, or even transfemme/transmasc frequently or exclusively; actively erasing or not allowing room for nonbinary and intersex experiences that do not fall within those binaries.
Implying men- cis or trans- would be better if they were made into women instead.
Implying attraction to men, or being a man, is somehow a “curse” or a “burden”, or otherwise unfortunate.
Implying a fear of men, including trauma-induced phobias, should never be healed from or sought treatment for. Implying men, cis or trans, cannot also experience trauma around men.
Treating trans men or transmasculine people as “acceptable targets” in any way; for harassment, for abuse, for misgendering, for inducing dysphoria, etc.
Implying transmasc dysphoria is “toxic masculinity”
Characterizing transmascs as hysterical, whiny, delusional, crazy, or otherwise using feminine stereotypes.
Implying it is femininity, specifically, that is targeted by the patriarchy; that feminine people are targeted more than masculine people, etc.
Using “listen to transfemmes” to silence other groups of trans people, and otherwise implying transfemmes are a monolith who happen to agree with you.
In general: espousing the ideas, fundamental or otherwise, that defined the Baeddel movement. (including TIRF and radical feminist ideology)
This list is not comprehensive, nor is any one thing on this list 100% certain to indicate that someone is a Baeddel- or if they are, that they are necessarily dangerous. It’s important to keep in mind how many people are groomed into this movement and abused within it; some of those who espouse Baeddel rhetoric may themselves be victimized by others.
But until we recognize these ideas for what they are and where they’ve come from, history can only repeat itself.
Educate Yourself and Others
It would take a long, long time and a lot more space to detail all of the damage done, the people hurt, and the dangers of continuing to allow these ideas to be perpetuated. Instead, I have compiled some resources and references.
I urge you to check these out, bookmark them for later, or whatever else works for you! (They’re also all much, much shorter reads than this has been.)
@baeddel-txt and @rejectedbaeddeldiscourse, two blogs dedicated to documenting various posts and beliefs held by original Baeddels.
Another blog’s tag for Baeddel history.
Baeddel.net, another archive of Baeddelism.
@AcesArosEnbies thread, and @gothmyths thread, on Baeddelism.
@quinndolyn’s recount of Baeddelism.
My own post on the origins of the Baeddel movement.
My own post including posts from Baeddels (and others) as recently as 2018.
An archive of assorted Baeddel posts.
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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years ago
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Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part Sixteen)
A/N- Not dead! See! Finally getting out another chapter! There will only be two more chapters after this one! Though, when the ending arrives, if demand for a sequel is present, I MAYYYY be tempted as I have really enjoyed writing this story as Mycroft is my favourite character! Uni has just been a pain in my arse, as has my mental health, but I'm trying to find space to write where I can! Anyway, enough of my boring chat, enjoy the new chapter!
Word Count: 3k
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Thursday had passed fairly well- neither you nor Mycroft electing to get out of bed until 10am, simply just talking to one another about the following days to come.
"Any clue on what to get Greg yet?" You asked, taking the moment to pull the duvet back up to your neck as the autumnal chill took over.
"A few. Though I must ask why you insist on wrapping up like we're in the middle of the arctic."
"It's October. In London. I'm freezing."
"Y/N, the central heating has practically been on constantly since the temperatures began to drop."
"...Outside looks cold and it makes my inside feel cold." Rather than respond audibly, Mycroft offered a fond eye roll at your childishness and proceeded to pat the section of the bed beside him in an offer of closing the small gap between you. Practically leaping at the chance, you rolled over and lifted Mycroft's arm to rest around you, relishing in the warmth emitting from his being. "You know, for an iceman, you burn like a furnace sometimes." You mused, fighting the urge to close your eyes and fall back into slumber once more.
"Yes, well, 'fireman' would have been a rather misdirecting nickname. I fear I wouldn't have been taken very seriously if people thought a fireman was working in the political field."
"Would've looked dead sexy in the uniform though." Mycroft choked a little at your words before falling into a laugh. "See, no denying it either. Maybe I could get you to make me a calendar all 'Full Monty' style over the front of the truck."
"A disastrous idea, I can assure you.. The red hue of the fire engine, my tinted hair, and slightly reddened cheeks? Major clash, I'd say." You turned around and pressed a quick kiss to said cheeks before grinning.
"Slightly is the understatement of the year. Still, the Clash are my favourite band so I'm sure I could handle the contradicting colours."
"Your jokes are getting worse."
"I'll tell Greg that one tomorrow, he'll love it."
"Not a very redeeming argument, my dear. I have once witnessed Gregory laughing over a monkey flinging its own faeces at a window."
"Touché, Holmes." You then clicked back to the original point of your conversation and spun yourself around to face the man a little more. "Anyway, speaking of Greg, we still need to work out what we're getting him- and whilst I am 100% convinced you have the power to find him a faeces throwing primate, I don't think that's the best way to go. We'll keep it as a plan B though."
Eventually, the pair of you decided to gift Greg a large decanter of one of his favourite whiskies he drinks when he visits Mycroft's home and raids his alcohol cabinet like a teenager. But, feeling as though it wasn't quite enough, Mycroft had arranged for Greg to have the rest of the week, and the following week entirely off work. It wasn't too long ago that Greg was getting upset about not seeing his parents much this year, and how he wants to spend more time with them now that they're getting older. It was only fair to give him this time to himself to get a nice visit under his belt. Only part of you felt a little gutted that your first week back at work would be Gregless, but it was the least you could do. Myc had also arranged for a car to be at Greg's disposal for the journey- having the inclination he would be anxious to leave to his parents' house but still wanting a few drinks at the get together.
The rest of the evening had passed in a relatively tranquil manner, with you and Mycroft watching a movie and placing an order to obtain all of the food you required for tomorrow.
---------------------
Friday morning had arrived at record speed, with you and Mycroft already downstairs by 9am. You'd elected to spend the day with Greg a little earlier than originally anticipated, with the idea being that Greg would likely leave shortly after dinner to have time to get dropped off home to grab some clothes for his trip.
You'd prepped a hearty English breakfast, deciding the greasy and fatty nature of it would be well deserved with your afternoon of alcoholism and socialising in mind. However, Mycroft had elected for a bowl of porridge and you had to pretend to not be completely horrified over his choice.
"I tried to bite my tongue." You spoke as Mycroft raised his spoon to his lips. He grinned before taking the warm mixture into his mouth and humming around the metal.
"For all but twelve seconds.." He mused.
"It's just.. Such a sad breakfast. It's so dull. No colours. Whereas look at this!" You gestured towards the two plates you'd started preparing for Greg's any moment arrival. "Bright orange beans.. Pink bacon.. Yellow eggs.. It's enough to put Joseph's Dreamcoat to shame! Philip Schofield's one, of course. The superior Joseph- not Jason D."
"Were you even alive when either of those took on the role of Joseph?"
"Yes.. Maybe.. Okay, no. But that's besides the point. I was alive when the Donny Osmond film came out so.. there. Let us not be distracted from the sad bowl at hand." Mycroft quickly rose from his chair and fished in the cupboards, grabbed a jar, and sat back down again. Next, he plonked a teaspoon into the red glass container and dolloped a scoop of jam in the centre of the beige bowl before him.
"Satisfied?"
"Hmmm..." You circled round him and scooped a couple more times, deciding Mycroft's central ball of strawberry jam worked perfectly as a nose, and sculpted two small circles for eyes and then a third for the mouth. "Now it's better. Slightly happier to see you."
"It's pouting."
"Maybe it just wants to kiss you." Mycroft raised his brow and you laughed. "Fine. Maybe the jam was too thick to contemplate even attempting a curved smile without you having more jam than porridge... Though that does sound far more delicious." You turned back to plating the rest of the other breakfasts when the door rang.
"I am still unaware as to why Gregory insists on knocking when I've made it perfectly clear that he can come straight in when he's expected. I even left the door unlocked."
"You can bring that one up with him. He lets himself into my flat even when he isn't expected. The man's lucky that he hasn't ended up with a black eye a few times in the past." You joked, heading out to the front door to let in the DI. "Well you certainly look..."
"Devilishly handsome? Good for my age?"
"I was going to say 'less shit' but now you've just made me feel bad. Decent sleep then?"
"Cheeky beggar, you are. And yes, thank you, like a baby. Come out of it feeling thirty years younger." Greg grinned, stepping through the door and hanging his coat on the rack.
"A whole thirty years? That would make you, what, forty?"
"I honestly hate you sometimes. Truly. You are aware that I'm only a few years older than James Bond over there?" He gestured to Mycroft as you headed into the kitchen together.
"Dare I assume that I am, once again, 007 in this case? What did I miss this time?"
"Y/N calling us old."
"I called YOU old. My Bond is still in the flourishes of youth." Greg sat at the kitchen island and peered over into Mycroft's bowl.
"Eating porridge on a Friday at nearly 10am? I'm now doubly offended that I'm placed in your senile category if that's the descriptor of a juvenile."
"Yes, well, my memory equally holds above your own, Gregory. For I remember that I distinctly told you to just come in to my home when you are expected as I will be ready and waiting." Mycroft spoke, lifting another spoonful of porridge to his lips...
"Yeah, well, that was before I had the added risk of finding the pair of you naked and at it on the sofa. Thought I'd spare my eyes." ... and then choking on said porridge.
"Ever a delight, Greg. Now eat your bacon before I blend it and spoon feed it to you." You warned jokingly. "Oh! Did you bring the goods?"
"Yes, thank you. My memory isn't that dreadful. Though your observational skills must be if you didn't see me bring in the same bags you handed to me."
"Too distracted bullying you, I'm afraid." You smirked, spooning in a mouthful of beans before circling the table and taking the bags from Greg upstairs to hide. When you returned, you found the pair of them settled happily into conversation and eating their food. "Dare I say, you had better not be trying to wrangle what your presents are from Greg, Mr Holmes." You scolded playfully.
"He'd be useless if he did. I refused to look in the bags- I knew he'd either read it in my face or manage to make me list them within minutes of arrival." Greg grinned, taking a bite out of his toast. "That and I dare find out what couples buy each other in the honeymoon periods of their sex lives. If my youth taught me anything, it's that it's filthy." You swatted the man at the back of his head before sitting on the other side of Mycroft.
"That's just you, Lestrade. You're the dirty bastard in this room, not us. I dread to think of the kinds of things you picked up when you were younger- and that's just the things you bought."
"Oi, I'm clean. Always have been."
"I must say that euphemisms on sexually transmitted diseases wasn't at the top of the list of conversations I expected to have over breakfast this morning." Mycroft mused, moving to take his now empty bowl over to the sink.
"Even when you've known a born-Lestrade and an honorary-Lestrade for all these years?" Greg snorted.
"Yeah, darling, I think this one's on you for being unprepared." You laughed, following him to place your own plate in the sink and kissed his cheek.
"I agree, sweetheart, you'd ought to know better by now." Greg appeared and kissed Myc's other cheek with a laugh after being pushed away.
----
The evening drew on, the notion of a home cooked meal long gone as it was decided to order enough food for a family of six from a variety of different takeaways while watching a film. Well, decided makes it sound unanimous, but it was really you and Greg being unable to pick a single meal and Mycroft, having enough of the indecisiveness, pulling a Harry Potter 'we'll take the lot' move. Though he did insist that he only wanted his spring rolls and fried rice from the Chinese... at first. The Bombay potatoes from the Indian takeaway and some slices of pizza from his favourite Italian restaurant soon persuaded him to expand his dinner choices.
"I can feel my arteries closing." Greg groaned, throwing a pizza crust towards one of the empty takeaway containers and slumping back to lean on the sofa. "I'm definitely regretting insisting to sit on the floor rather than the table too."
"I did try to advise that it was a terrible idea given such large portions."
"Yeah but there's so much food, I think even your banquet table would've struggled, Myc. Plus we wouldn't have been able to watch The Godfather from the dining room." You chimed in, kicking your plate away from in front of you.
"Oh yes, of course. Nothing quite increased my appetite like the severed head of a horse."
"You're just jealous you never thought of doing that as a threat to all those dodgy politicians." Greg smirked. "I just can't believe you hadn't seen it before, given your field and all that."
"Gregory.. You are aware that I occupy a minor position in the British government, not the mafia?"
"You all wear fancy, expensive suits to work. All the same t'me." Greg stretched his arms above his head before taking a swig of his whiskey. "All this food and drink, I reckon I'll still feel it by work on Sunday. S'pose I better get out your hair before I kip on the carpet." You quickly perked up, brain cogs returning to their functions. Mycroft caught your move and nodded with a smile, heading out of the room for a moment. "What? Was that a secret government code? 'Bout to be infiltrated by MI6 now, am I?" He grinned.
"Less infiltrated, more.. gifted." You mused as Mycroft came back into the room holding a large leather box in his hands. He knelt back onto the ground beside you and handed the box over to Greg.
"From the both of us. Just a small thank you." Mycroft spoke, a grateful smile on his face.
"We both appreciate everything you've done. It's not like you didn't overwork yourself to the bone anyway, so picking up my shifts? Made us love you that little bit more." Greg appeared slightly stunned.
"You know I didn't do it for you to owe me anything. I've said before how much the pair of you mean to me. You're a pain in the arse, but you're like my little sister- which, in turn, makes Myc family too now."
"Just open the box, you soppy git." You grinned. Opening the latch on the side of the case, Greg's eyes widened and he immediately shut it.
"No."
"What do you mean 'no'? You appear to enjoy drinking such brand when you come over here? I can always exchange if-" You put your hand over Mycroft's knee and smiled fondly.
"He does enjoy it, Myc. He's just being a stubborn git who doesn't like accepting things from people. He's a nightmare at Christmas."
"Yeah, but there's a difference between- Jesus, this is a single malt Dalmore!"
"Which you enjoy, yes?"
"Well yeah, Myc, but that's not-"
"Then enjoy it."
"It's four and a half grand a sodding bottle!"
"Then enjoy it slowly." You cut in. "I didn't mooch off Myc for it, I put in half, so-"
"Not helping."
"Y/N also insisted that you have the rest of this week and the next off work. It came to my understanding that you hadn't seen your parents for a while."
"I can't af-"
"Paid."
"I called your Da yesterday and your Mum's already done up the spare room. I told her you're a big boy and can make your own bed, but she insisted." You couldn't help but smile at Greg's face.
"And, not to kick you out of course, I have a car due to arrive to take you back home to pack a bag and then take you to see them in about ten minutes." Rather than speaking, Greg all but dived at the pair of you and wrapped his arms around you. You returned the hug immediately, and even Mycroft patted at Greg's shoulder with a little laugh.
"I.. Don't really know what to say." Greg mumbled into your shoulders.
"Just promise me your Da will freeze us some croissants for you to bring back."
"You know he'd rather go to an early grave than freeze his pastries. You'll have to come up on a day you get free. Both of you, that is."
"I'm sure I'll manage to convince Myc to come up. Now, go get your bloody shoes on. If you're so much as a minute late turning up, your Ma will be fretting and I'll get the back end of it!" Greg did as told and rounded up the rest of his stuff before heading to the door and giving the pair of you one last hug and thanks.
"If either of you need me, just call, alright? Oh, and if Sal gives you shit because I'm gone then I'll sort it. Or deck her and I'll sort the papers when I'm home... Oh! And Sherlock. Tell him I won't be here for cases or he'll go hunting for me. And-"
"When was the last time you had a week off work?"
"About fifteen years ago."
"Exactly- now go enjoy it. I'll slap Sal and I'll get John to sort Sherlock. Now go before I force you into the car- and that really won't seem like a heartwarming move to the neighbours."
"Right yeah. Going. Thanks again. For all of it.. But honestly if you-"
"Go, Gregory. It'll be sorted and we'll be fine." Mycroft encouraged with a laugh. And then off Greg went. The pair of you went back into the front room and cleared away the remnants of dinner before all but collapsing onto the sofa, Mycroft sat with his head hanging over the back, and you laying across the length of the chair with your head in his lap.
"I'd consider that at least marginally successful." You spoke, eyes closed in relaxation. "Though you'll have to come and meet Greg's parents now."
"I'm sure I will survive."
"Mmm.." You agreed sleepily. "Consider it a step towards meeting the real potential in-laws. Though my parents can't make French pastries. Load of old bollocks really considering they buggered off across the channel."
"I'll look forward to it." He spoke, stiffening slightly.
"You're already scared, aren't you?"
"Terrified."
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froggy-frogz · 3 years ago
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Hi,Can you do HCS for someone who comes up to the characters of inside out and tell them they struggle to make friends or form connections and what advice would they give them?
A/N: Of course! But I think you mean Inside Job [dw I'm just messing with you, I have all sorts of spelling issues all the time]! I'm also going to not do Glenn because I don't think he'd give the best advice rip
Reagan
She's probably not the best person to ask.
She would help you though!
What she'd say basically is to not be afraid to actually talk to people, and to talk to people who have similar interests to you!
She's not the people-iest person, but it's the best advice she has.
Brett
Brett has natural charm so he's probably a good person to ask but not the best.
He'd tell you to be genuine and polite to people!
He'd also tell you to talk to people with close interests and to be as kind as you can because, in turn, you'd get that kindness back.
Myc
Woof-
He's an asshole, so I wouldn't listen to him /hj
He'd tell you to go into meeting people not caring what they think of you but don't be an asshole while you do so.
Gigi
She's probably the best person to ask out of all five of them, even if she's a bit haughty.
She'd tell you what the others basically told you, but to go in with a smile and to actively listen. Is it word vomit from things she and a bunch of other people have been taught? Yes, but it works!
Andre
He's going to be more lowkey when you ask.
He'd probably just tell you to be yourself and to listen to people because when making connections and friends, that's all you can really do.
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sarcasstic-jpmvr · 2 months ago
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Ooh I love this I will def add spme of my thoughts (it’s more of an elaboration/bullet fic I hope that’s alright)
Greg was definitely wortied ti introduce Myc to his kids
Not bc he thought Myc would hurt them or anything, but we all know Mycroft “Antarctica” Holmes
So yeah, Greg was worried that his kids wouldn’t like the love of his life
When Greg got full-time custody, he knew that he’d have to introduce his children to Myc
This was still in the early stages of their relationship, because unlike his wife, Greg always stayed faithful and only started dating a year after the divorce was finalised (read: he asked Mycroft out for coffee and that concluded the dating bc holy shit Mycroft Holmes is his “the one”)
Mycroft and him weren’t living together yet but he stayed at Mycroft’s most of the time
For this occasion tho, he decided to prepare dinner in his own flat, on his (and his kids’) “turf” so ti speak
(Again, not because of Mycroft, he just wanted things to go down smoothly and thought that his kids would definitely feel out of place at the London Holmes Estate)
so, he prepared dinner, definitely didn’t cut himself chopping up carrots for the ratatouille his kids loved, definitely didn’t burn himself while he was trying to light a candle for the dinner table and definitely didn’t scream when the doorbell rang indicating Mycroft was there
The kids stormed down the stairs of the duplex before Greg even had time to calm down his nerves and olen the door for Mycroft
Which basically means that when he stormed to th front door he came face to face with a situation he hadn’t accounted for when going through the multiple scenarios in his head
to be fair, he had been prepared for everything but what happened
he knew how to handle screaming, crying, tantrums, silence, everything but the sight of Mycroft Holmes crouched down to meat his youngest at eye-level with a brilliant smile (with teeth!) and a soft, soothing voice explaining who he was and what he was doing in their home without sounding condescending
“Hi, my name’s Mycroft, but you can call me Myc if you want. I’m sure you know who I am to your father, right? I love him very much, and he loves you very much, which means that I care about you too. Do you have questions?”
His oldest was still holding the door, his youngest was clutching a stuffed animal to her chest, both looked wide-eyed at the stranger in their house, not saying a word. Mycroft was still crouched patiently in front of the kdis when Greg decided to interfere
“Girls, why don’t you introduce yourselves” he said past the lump in his throat
“Hello Myc, my name’s Charlotte, and this is my younger sister Grace. Why don’t you come in?” Greg had neve heard his eldest talking so politely and was shocked
“And this is Sherl!”, Grace piped in shyly and thrust her bunny in Mycrofts face, who stumbled back on his heels a bit but was somehow still smiling (sans teeth, now)
“Oh, Sherl? From Sherlock?” the smiling bastard asked, as if he hadn’t deduced it from the tag on the bunny, was he seriously indulging in this? Greg didn’t mnow what to do with this strangere in front of him. Obviously he knew Mycroft wasn’t really the Iceman, but he hadn’t really thought children were privy to this loving person he had come to know in the past year
“Yes! Where do you know him from?” Charlotte asked curiously, eying Mycroft with a calculating gaze as if to determine whether or not she could trust him
“Well, that’s my brother. That’s how your father and I got to know each other. Sherlock helps him sometimes.”, to,d Mycroft while he was taking off his shoes and coat to hang up on the hanger in the hall next to Greg’,s who still stood a few meters behind his daughters, slack jawed.
a chrous of “no way”s and “that’s so cools” followed them into the kitchen, where Mycroft put down a bag he was carrying with him on the table.
“What’s in the bag?”, Grace piped up, followed by a “Manners, Grace”, from a finally-recoverd-from-shock Greg
Mycroft pulled out teo books, handing one to each girl and said “Sherlock used to love these when he was your age. Hopefully you’ll like them just as much.”
Finally, Mycroft turned to Greg and gave him a shy smile while the girls poured over their books on the table
“Hello, my love”, Mycroft said lowly, leaning in to brush a kiss on Greg’s cheek and pulling him in for a quick squeeze
“How are you so good with children?”, was the first thing Greg said to his love
“Well, I’m privy to some secrets, aren’t I” Mycroft replied with a wink before turning back to the girls and reading a few passsages from one of the books to Grace who still struggled to keep focussed long enough to understand what the book was about
“Unbelievable”, Greg muttered before returning to his ratatouille.
Safe to say, the evening was a successd
The next time he saw Sherlock ona crimescene, the consulting detective came up to him and deduced that Greg had finally introduced his offspring to Mycroft
“Yes., I have. I didn’t know your brother was so good with children, where’d that come from? Is it a Holmes thing?”
Sherlock looked him deep in the eyes
“Who do you think raised me?
aaahhhhh so many things to write about
throwing it back to you @rabiessnail , add some more thoughts! hope this was ok!
Mystrade as Parents
Greg gained custody of his daughters two years after the divorce from his ex-wife
Mycroft had always wanted children but knew it would most likely never be possible because of his sexuality
Mycroft spoils them
(auntie) Molly comes around to babysit when Myc and Greg have date nights.
They adopt their son Wilfred when the girls are finishing high school
Greg's eldest daughter, Charlotte, is starting to train in the police force.
Greg's second daughter, Grace, becomes a lawyer.
Mycroft is very proud of them both and definitely doesn't cry at their graduation
A/N: I made Greg's daughters names up. Idk if they have official names, just tell me if they do
@sarcasstic-jpmvr any more ideas??
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kayniee · 3 years ago
Text
Myc/Andre x OC - Part 1
"Reagan I swear to fuck if you don't let me go right this second so help me God I'm literally going to kill you and your family."
"If you killed me, Dad would be pissed cuz I'm more successful than you, and you couldn't kill Dad because you care about him too much."
"Well I'll kill Mom then."
"No you won't."
"Fuck you. And fuck Cognito Inc.. If I wanted to work for this stupid company I would've started a long time ago. You're lucky I owe you."
That was the conversation the field team of Cognito Inc. had the misfortune of starting their day to. Well, that and a rather irritated looking Reagan using her mechanical arm-pack to carry an equally irritated girl - One that, mind you, no one fucking knew.
"Reagan, I - I don't mean to be rude or anything, but -" Brett stuttered out after a moment of watching the interaction.
"Everyone, meet Adelaide Ridley. My sister."
"Everyone, if any of you call me that I will rip out your reproductive organs and feed them to you. Don't refer to me at all. Call me Addy if you're feeling really adventurous." The girl said, still in Reagan's mechanical arms. "Can you fucking put me down now?"
"Fine." Reagan rolled her eyes, then complied with her sister's demand. "Addy here is a maniac inventor too, but made the decision not to join Cognito Inc. and instead decided to live on my couch and complain for a living. I did her a favour and submitted her job application and, wouldn't you know it, she immediately got promoted to the field team because I told JR that she would probably kill everyone and herself if I wasn't there to supervise her - And showed off some of her best inventions which rival mine, but I'm pretty sure it was the subtle death threat that got him."
"She did all this without my fucking permission, keep in mind." Addy growled. "And, as the cherry on top of this fucking ice cream sandwich of shit is that she just told me yesterday."
"So, like a fucking psychopath, she decided to go out drinking so she could guilt-trip me in the morning not to make her go to work."
"And, like a fucking psychopath, she made me go anyways and threatened to kick me out if I didn't."
"Okay, you've been sleeping on my couch since you were 14 and you got back from Canada. You promised to get a job like 6 times. You had this fucking coming. Besides - I told you I was gonna do this, you were just too drunk to remember it."
"Bitch, I was high. There's a fucking difference."
Myc rose from his seat. "Okay, I've been polite and let you two have your petty little argument, but it just stopped being interesting. Hi Adelaide, bye Adelaide. I'm going to go get 5 simultaneous handjobs now. Welcome to Cognito Inc. See you at lunch." Reagan grimaced noticeably at the use of her sister's first name. She didn't miss the way Addy glared at the mushroom's retreating figure.
Gigi also rose. "Yeah, I was just being polite. I really don't care about this Reagan 2.0. I've been around her for like 5 minutes and she already pisses me off. Bye."
Addy scowled, sitting down in an empty seat. "So what do I even do here, Rae? I mean, you didn't exactly give me a job description."
"Waitwaitwait - Before you guys start getting all boring-work-talk-mode, I gotta know - What did you get high with?" Andre butted in.
Addy raised an eyebrow. "You talkin' to me?"
"Yeah, yeah - Reagan said you were 'too drunk to remember' when she told you about the job, and then you corrected her and said 'bitch, I was high, there's a fucking difference', so I'm asking what you were high on."
Addy shot Andre a grin. Luhix from Hollow Earth. I built a machine to automatically locate veins of Jadeite. I actually got a fair bit before someone here ruined my fun." She rolled her eyes. "Anyways, I traded it with a mole for a fuck ton of Luhix and sold half of it for a profit. I kept the other half because a Luhix high is better than fucking Styxroot, and I didn't want to liquidate all my assets."
Andre's eyes widened comically, and Addy could see his blown out pupils and momentarily wondered how the fuck he was still alive.. "Holy fucking shit, Reagan, how can someone with your genes be this fucking cool?"
A wide grin spread across Addy's face, making Reagan roll her eyes. "Hey Andre, didn't you have that meeting in right about five minutes from now?"
"Oh, shit - Hey, cool girl, you're sitting beside me and Myc at lunch. Not optional. Also, take this for the hangover. Ok I'm gonna get screamed at, bye!" He said, fishing out a syringe from his bag, slamming it on the table, and making a mad dash for the exit of the room.
Addy eyed the syringe suspiciously. "Hey Rae, this safe?"
Reagan shrugged. "Kind of a 50/50 with Andre. It won't kill you, but it might be laced with something. On the one hand, you're new, but on the other hand, he seems to like you."
With a shrug, Addy injected the syringe into her arm. It took a couple seconds to kick in, but when it did, the thrumming in her head immediately disappeared.
"Feeling better?" Reagan said dryly.
"Much."
"Well, that was the crew, minus Glenn. You'll meet him at lunch, though. You wore the wristband, right?
Addy scowled. "I didn't exactly have a fucking choice."
"Trust me - The payout will be worth it. Anyways, your job is pretty much to make shit that JR tells you to make and sometimes go out and do important shit. Other than that, do what you want. Take this." She thrusted some sort of smartwatch into her sister's arms. Addy hesitantly put it on, her eyes widening as a holographic screen appeared in front of her. "You'll get assignments via that. It'll vibrate when you first get it, then if you don't answer a needle will jab you and, depending on how important the assignment is and how pissed off JR is, may or may not inject you with something."
Addy tried to remove the smartwatch, but it seemed to be glued to her wrist. "Reagan what the fuck."
Reagan grinned. "Yeah, it does that. Their tech is dogshit though, so it's really not that hard to remove. It's way harder to remove it without JR finding out, though, so I wouldn't bother."
"This is why I didn't want to join this stupid fucking company."
"Careful - If JR catches you saying that, you'll be put on milking duty." Reagan grimaced. "And trust me, you do not want to know what that is. Anyways, I gotta do shit. You have clearance to pretty much everything but you are being recorded everywhere you go so keep that in mind. They don't give a shit if you get high, but I wouldn't because you'll need to be sober for the hazing you might be put through. Have fun!"
----
A/N: OK SO that was the first little blurb of the fanfic im writing about my OC, Adelaide. lmk if you wanna be added to some sort of tag list cuz i heard that authors sometimes do that. i legit have no fucking clue where this fanfic is going 
Requests more open than my legs (aka very)
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siapsymud-moved · 4 years ago
Note
❤ myc and abby
Send me a ❤ and a ship and I’ll answer these questions about them.
@corruptaxpoliticus
Dating:
Where was their first official date? Their first official date was at some fancy restaurant in London that Myc chose. They went out for dinner.
What is their favorite date location? This one neat restaurant that also has people come over to play at and a dance floor. They get quite the enjoyment out of going there together.
How many dates before their first kiss? There was a few, maybe four or five just due to the distance in between them, the time it took them to move things further, and how they were taking things kind of slow and carefully at the beginning.
Who asked who out first? Mycroft did <3
How many dates before they considered each other a couple? Oh goodness... also a few, I’d say at least six or seven for this one 
Friends:
How many mutual friends do they have? John and Sam are really it, there’s acquaintances that they both know but not much else for now.
Which one of their friends is most likely to get in between an argument between the ship? I really think it could be either Sam or John but it also depends on the argument because I feel like neither is going to want to step on Abigail’s toes, nor get in the middle of whatever they’re arguing about unless necessary.
Which one has more friends? Uh gosh.... Both? Maybe Abigail has a few more but she’s been bad about keeping up with them.
Which one has introduced the other to more people? They both have kind of in equal amounts, specially when they accompany each other to important events.
Did they start out as friends and made their way to a couple, or were they a couple almost right away? They began as friends, meeting each other both through politics and John, it was all a very slow burn. First they were just friends who would meet up when they were on each other’s side of the world, until one day Myc said he had a babysitter for the night and they’re going out to have fun. It’s all history from there
Arguments:
What do they argue about the most? Working habits, though I feel Mycroft’s are a lot better because he’s got two littles to worry about. Abigail tends to neglect some basic self care when there’s a specially stressful situation at work.
How do they usually solve their disagreements? Talking them out when they’re both level headed.
Do they argue a lot or not very often? Not very often, they usually have pretty good communication.
Who admits to being wrong more often? Uuuuhhh.... Abigail
Sex:
Who is more likely to initiate sex? It depends, on the day they’ve had but sometimes it’s Abigail.
Do they prefer to do it in a bed, or do they prefer a chair, or perhaps the shower?  Maybe other spots? Bed is just far more comfortable, some things have happened in the shower but now a days shower activities have defaulted to Abigail giving Mycroft ridiculous hairstyles.
Do they practice any kind of bdsm in the bedroom at all and if so, what kinds? A little bit, some light bondage but nothing extreme.
Who’s usually more dominant in the bedroom? -turns the light switches on and off and on and off and on and off- it changes
Lights on or off? Either, but prefered is on.
Do they share any kinks? A few, particularly the hair pulling and semi-public sex. 
Does either one have any kinks that they don’t have in common with the other? Not really
Have they ever had sex anywhere public before? Hahaha..... I mean... yeah... kinda, sorta, maybe, could have been at the white house at least once or twice. uhm. ssshhhh
Who would be most likely to suggest bringing in a third person and who would that person be? Neither
Cuddling:
When are they most likely to cuddle? Any time they’re free or when they’re doing some family time.
Where is their favorite place to cuddle? Definitely their bed but the couch is a close second, so many fluffy blankets.
Who’s usually the big spoon? Mycroft uwu
Do they cuddle often? Whenever they can, it’s something nice for them both to do and sometimes the kids or doggos will join in and it’s a family cuddle puddle
Marriage:
Are they married?  If not, is it something that could happen between them? They’re not married yeeet, but it’s something that can and will definitely happen in the future.
If they are married, where did they get married at?  If not married, what is their dream wedding location? It would happen either in Boston or London.
If married, who proposed to who?  If not married, who would be more likely to propose to who? Abigail proposes to Mycroft, she takes the twins one day and asks if it would be okay with them if she proposed to their father. With their blessing, and help, she surprises Mycroft one day and asks him to marry her.
If they are married, which one moved in with the other?  If not married, who would be more likely to move in with the other? It can go either way, depending on how serious they get and how quickly. Currently it would be easier for Mycroft to move to the states, but if Abigail finishes her term and renounces the secret service detail she could move to England with him.
Children:
Do they have kids?  If not, would they consider having kids? Mycroft has Anthony and Lucy and Abby just has two big puppers, Rosie and Belle
How many kids do they have?  If no kids, how many kids would they want to have? They have the twins, and one day might have one or two more together.
What are the children’s names?  If no kids, what would they name their kids? The kids’ names are Lucy and Anthony
Random:
What are three random headcannons you have about the ship that are not related to romance or sex?
Abigail has a tattoo on the small of her back that she constantly forgets that she has. It’s not a place she can see in the mirror and she was single for so long it kinda just escaped her. So imagine the shock and embarrassment the first time Mycroft sees it and asks about it. 
Being long distance, working long hours, and being on different timezones was an absolute pain at times. Abigail would often times stay up late just to be able to catch Mycroft as he was waking up and before he had to go get the kids ready for school for a quick good morning and ���i love you’.
When Abigai and Mycroft get married, she got Lucy a necklace that kind of matched the ring and Anthony one as well. 
Which one is more likely to suggest getting pets? Pfff- probably the kids. Abigail is happy with her two doggos and Myc’s got Pumpkin and the house is quite full
Which one eats more snack foods? Both of them, and considering they also get the good snacks for the kids wELL. They’re family snacks now.
What is their favorite movie to watch together? Mamma Mia
What is their favorite tabletop game to play together? They like to play UNO or LIFE with the kids
What are your three absolute favorite things about this ship?
How absolutely smitten with each other they both are, the awkward beginning stages of the relationship but how they were both just so fond of each other. 
THE FAMILY ASPECT OF IT ALL, Abigail cares so so much for Lucy and Anthony and of course Mycroft and some nights when she’s just thinking about her life she gets such a wave of emotion that they all allowed her to be a part of their lives. And she’s so grateful for it as she loves them all deeply. 
How Myc and Abby get to be unapologetically happy in this verse with each other.
What is one thing you don’t like about this ship? Nothing I love all of it als;dfjas, guilty pleasure ship and verse.
If you had to rate this ship on a scale of 1-10, what would you give it? 12/10 WOULD SHIP IT ALL OVER AGAIN
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pendragonfics · 6 years ago
Text
Down Under
Paring: Mycroft Holmes/Reader
Tags: female reader, long-distance relationships, romance, cutesy, tooth-rotting fluff, Australian politics, Australian slang, swearing,  
Summary: Reader, a London-native, is working away from home for the first time, in a whole new country. It's all very new, especially since today, there's a surprise in her room, according to her roommate.
Word Count: 2,614
Current Date: 2018-09-26
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Sydney is nothing like London. Well, there’s still cabs, but they’re white, not black. There’re crosswalks linking pedestrians from one sidewalk to the other. But here the drivers more often than not don’t slow for those on them. There’re people here, but there isn’t Myc. You thought the move from home to the land Down Under would be easy - it was another continent. Australians spoke English. Most of the nuances were understood between the cultural differences. 
But for once, you were on your own.
No Mum and her odd assortment of cats crammed into her country house on the outskirts of the city limits. No Sherlock and his antics every other afternoon. It was only you and your thoughts, and FaceTime every afternoon at five o’clock, and lots of paperwork. 
The move to Sydney was to advance your career. A bold move, for a girl who came from nothing. A girl who had nothing before graduating with scholarships and better marks than ever seen before. That’s where you met him; the last year of studies at university, at a small party. You were in a dress salvaged from a friend of a friend, a nice afternoon tea dress from three seasons ago, he in a two-piece suit, holding the jacket over his arm, a plastic cup of warm beer in his hand. 
Your mutual friend introduced you to one another. He was bored of everything already, and you, well, tried your best to not make a fool of yourself around the other people who smelt of old money and perfume from Côte d'Azur. You cracked a joke, and his façade broke, or, was it the beer that broke it? It didn’t matter. By graduation, you were inseparable, and while he climbed the ladder of government, you worked on your connections in the ecopolitical sphere.
Working in the British embassy was nice. But it wasn’t exactly what you wanted. It was…like a resume builder. Except, instead of working at Burger King for three years to get customer service as a tag on it, it was a whole new country. But it was fine. Good. Great, even. You wore a nice uniform, worked through people’s problems, and found solutions for your own. When you ran out of milk in your shared flat, you spent half an hour wandering on foot around Ultimo looking for a Tesco, but it wasn’t until you heard someone’s unmissable Aussie accent when it clicked that you needed a Coles. Or a 7-11 corner store. It felt strange to hear Australian voices on the radio stations in the break room, and the bus ride from the flat to work. The money was weird, too. Everything was cheaper than British pounds, but it would be hard to scrape enough of it by to buy necessities.
Five o’clock in the evening never came fast enough, especially today. You checked out of work, and on the walk to the train station – sometimes catching the train from the Quay was nicer than the buses that were engraved with everyone’s five-minute romance initials – you’d boot up your phone and hit call on Myc’s profile, and thread your earbuds into your ears in muted excitement. Just like now. 
But when he’d usually pick up after three dials, it rang out. You frown, but you think nothing of it. 
The robot recording of a woman reading the train times overhead haled the next train as if from thin air, and boarding, you sat amidst the rest of the sweaty bodies. Springtime here was nothing like home, and your stay in Sydney was for six months on probation, and up to two years if you worked well. But that meant two summertime’s, and if spring was anything to go by, you dreaded the oncoming heat. The one summer you spent with Mycroft in Barcelona – he was at a conference with the local Catalonian and Spanish officials – oh, that made you feel so warm, your skin felt heated as if from the bones out, your hair and clothes too heavy and hot. 
When the doors opened at Central station, the people around you left the carriage like blood from an open wound. You followed suit, pocketing your phone. It was a little walk from the station, but, you took this time to clear your head. A whole day of talking to people, sorting problems out often left you with a head that felt like a fruit blender. 
When you pass by the McDonalds, you take five minutes to order a coffee.  When you walk by the university, you crane your neck up to see the ugly tower that looms over the city skyline. When your phone finishes its shuffled playlist, you realise you’d been using your roaming data the whole time and turn the phone to airplane mode in panic. Even though your apartment had a shoddy version of the National Broadband Network (“Not to be confused with the TV channel”, your roommate Blue would laugh, or, when she was in a bad mood, it was known as “the fuckin’ NBN”), mobile data was like a prized possession. You practically lived off public Wi-Fi. 
Someone on the street corner of Broadway and Mountain is hustling flyers at unsuspecting pedestrians, shouting about the end of the world. You chuckle to yourself, evading the paper held to you that reads The End Is Near!; at least there were still fundamentalists over the globe. By the time you make it into your street, your feet are aching more than ever, and your shoulder weighed down by your handbag and all its contents. 
Blue is in the main room when you unlock the front door; the kettle is boiling along to the sound of her meditation CD that’s playing from the machine beside the tiny TV. She’s in her yoga pants and a giant t-shirt that says RIDE FOR PRIDE with a motorcycle underneath surrounded by rainbow fire. Blue looks up from her Downward Dog when you place your keys in the bowl, a grin on her freckled face. 
“You look too happy to be a pretzel.” You comment, kicking off your heels into the shoe rack by the door. You blink, noticing a pair of shoes that you hadn’t seen in the rack before; brown brogue-laced leather. “Blue…”
“There’s a surprise in your room, _________.” She winked, and, along with the sultry sounds of the meditation track, went up, and twisted into Monkey pose. 
You make it to the stairs, and with every step, you’re not sure what you’re to expect. Has Blue’s nephew come over again for homework help with his mathematics? He never came over on weekdays, and today was a Thursday! And that didn’t explain the brogues at all! The door to your room is ajar, and pushing it all the way, your mouth goes dry. Eyes blink, unsure if this is just another of your vivid fantasies. Mind racing. 
“_________! Love –,” Mycroft comes to you, steadying you on your feet. It’s then you know it’s real, because his hands are cool, and they stick to your warm skin. You’re speechless, but perhaps that is for the better, because at once, you drop your handbag to the floor, and push Mycroft further into your room, hands up, cradling his face. 
“Oh my God, you’re real,” you whisper, words finally found. “I’ve missed you so, so, so much.” You sniffle, laying your head against his chest. 
“_________, don’t cry,” he says, holding you close. His lips brush over your forehead, slow kisses, soft, like the wings of a butterfly on your skin. He’s wearing a suit, like always – it’s a blue which brings out his eyes, and the jacket is stitched with a tiny pattern of diamonds. And now its covered with splattering of your tears. “I didn’t come all the way over here to make my girlfriend cry.” 
You chuckle at that. “But you did, Mr. Holmes.” You take a breath, and a seat on the side of your bed. “How did you get here – and I mean in my room.” Mycroft licks his lips, holding back a smile. He unbuttons his jacket, and sits beside you, leaving some space between you both. 
“Your roommate Harleen found me loitering around near your verandah, and let me in. I assume it’s because she recognised me from your photos.” He frowned. “Does she always let in men she doesn’t know?” 
You shake your head. “Harley – I mean, Blue – she’s more interested in Terry.” You blink, and remember Mycroft doesn’t know her as well as you do, “Uh, they’re a couple.” You feel a blush cover your face and place it in your hands. When you look up, you turn to your boyfriend, and address him. “So, why are you here, Myc?”
He blinks, perhaps disarmed by the wording of your question. But Mycroft is not the sort of man to be disarmed, and if so, not for long. “I heard your desperation in our last video chat,” he says, looking at his hands. They sit in his lap, empty.
“So, you took time out from your position in England, caught a plane –,” you stop yourself, and sigh. “I really should be grateful you’re here…it’s just that there’s never such a thing as a free lunch. Especially with you, Myc.”
“I –,” he stops himself, perhaps hearing the words he was to say in his head.
“Is it Sherlock? Or your position, do you need any help?” your voice rises with every question, “Your mother –,”
“It was me,” he replies, voice so very small. You’re suddenly aware that the both of you are not alone in the house, because it’s then when Blue’s meditation music plays a loud gong noise. “_________, I missed you.” He wipes a hand over his face, and you notice the slight hint of stubble threatening to appear. His eyes have bags that look heavier than your handbag. And they look sad. “I can’t believe that now, of all times, I realise how you feel all the times when I’m away for work, wherever it be. I took time from work, bought a ticket here – _________, you have no idea how much I missed you.”
“I think I can guess,” you whisper. 
You lean over the bed to the fan that’s plugged into the wall. As soon as it is whirring to life, your skin begins to prickle with the welcomed sensation of goosebumps. Mycroft sheds his jacket, and moving toward him, you take hold of his tie. Under your fingers, it loosens. 
It’s just like all the times in London when Myc would come to your place above the green grocer in Russel Square. You’d kick off your shoes, and he his, you’d ruffle his hair – to his dismay, but, you knew he liked it when you did it – and before you shut the curtains in your room, you’d loosen his tie. It was a ritual. A spell. And always, like always, the Mycroft who walked from the street would transform into the Mycroft who walked into your heart.  
But this time, it’s too warm to do what you’d usually do after the tie comes off, and like two lovesick children, you lay beside him in the bed, wearing nothing but your underclothes. Mycroft looks so at home in your quaint bedroom, and it makes your heart swell. 
It isn’t until your phone chimes – a message from your co-worker – that the fantasy of the situation breaks, and you’re back to everyday life. And you’re once again a bidding political advisor, and a lucrative socialite. 
“When do you go back?” you whisper. Your breath is warm, and opening his eyes, Mycroft sighs. 
“I have to fly back this Sunday.” He replies. “It’s a twenty-hour flight. I managed to pull some strings with the airplane, so I can try to stay longer than I would if I went commercially…”
You feel that melancholy return to you. It’d be only four – no, three days that you see him. 
And then how long? 
You’re not a needy person; Blue knew that. When she’d be watching Netflix as she wrote her column, you’d quietly drink your tea, when she’d have Terry and her friends from Darlinghurst over, you’d chat politely within their circle, complain about the ongoing strawberry scandal, try to understand the current situation of national politics (“I’m the Prime Minister, all I had to do to get the job was stab two other people in the back to get here!” one would say, and watching silently, you’d hear another two friends shout, just like Monty Python, “I am your Prime Minster!” – “Well I didn’t vote for him!”)
“I suppose that’s how it’s going to be, now,” you reply. “We’re like two kangaroos passing in the night on the highway.” 
Mycroft frowns. “Is that a local expression…?” 
You shake your head. “I don’t know. I just made it up. But if anything, what I know of Australian culture is that in making things up and going with them, it’s commonplace.” You laugh at that. “As much as I want to be happy you’re here, Myc, I can’t help but wonder if a shoe’s about to drop.” 
He gathers you closer. If it weren’t for your fan, it would be too hot to be this near to one another. Mycroft plants a kiss on your forehead, and you kiss him back, but he moves at the last minute, and it lands upon his nose.
“I’m not here to break up with you, if that’s what you’re thinking, _________.” He murmurs. 
It’s then when you’re startled away from Mycroft’s embrace, because Blue’s shouting up the stairs, “I’m making chili con carne for tea, _________!” You chuckle to yourself, as she goes on, “Is your hot businessman friend staying for dinner?”
You feel your cheeks heat up at that. But Mycroft’s the one who remedies it and grasping the railing that looks over the hallway – it felt so strange to have a loft bedroom – he calls out below, his British accent so different to Blue’s native Aussie twang, “Yes, the hot businessman is staying for dinner,” he says, a cheeky look on his face. He’s never been this relaxed in so long, and you let out a laugh at his wording. “But you can call me _________’s boyfriend.”
When he returns to the bed, you’re sitting up, pulling on your around-the-house shorts and Myc’s old sleepshirt he let you keep, shaking your head to yourself.
“What is it, love?” he asks, pulling his trousers back on. 
You chuckle. “I’m always your girlfriend. You know, everywhere we go in London, to whomever we’re introduced to. Sherlock knows my name, but simply calls me ‘The Girlfriend’. But here…” you smile. “Oh-ho, the tables have turned, Myc! My boyfriend!”
He kisses your temple, and gathers your hand in his, and walks with you downstairs to where the smell of chili is wafting from. “Yes,” he admits, “I guess I am.” 
Sydney is somewhat like London. There’re tourists everywhere, and the people who walk the streets who are locals don’t think twice about the knowledge they know. There are people here, like Blue and her friends and when you’re not working at the British Consulate, Blue and her friends take you to the most fantastic shows and places you wouldn’t find on your own. The beach is around the corner, and the ice-creams on Manley Island drip down your hands before they’re even scooped in their cones. Mycroft leaves every time he comes, but comes every four weeks or so, bringing his laptop, and plenty of free time to be with you. 
Perhaps Sydney wasn’t so bad after all. 
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mottlemoth · 7 years ago
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Some ordinary day - some ordinary, stupid Tuesday - and the ringing of his desk phone interrupted Greg Lestrade as he reached for his first coffee of the afternoon. He picked the phone up, and tucked the receiver between his ear and his shoulder.
"Lestrade," he said, as he raised the coffee to his mouth.
"Listen to me carefully," said the voice - and as Greg recognised it, his heart lurched into his throat. "We have only moments. You are about to meet some people I would rather you not, but I am powerless to intervene. You must tell them nothing."
Greg's blood ran immediately cold.
"What the hell's going on?" he asked, his breath tightening. Mycroft had never called him at work before. "What d'you mean, some people you'd - "
"Do not talk." Mycroft's voice hardened with sudden severity. "I need you to listen. To understand. You have encountered me only through your association with Sherlock, a small number of times, and we have exchanged no more than the shortest of polite conversation. The topic has been my brother. Nothing but my brother. Nothing whatsoever. Do you understand?"
Greg didn't dare breathe. "W-Why?"
"Do you understand, Greg?"
"Y-Yeah." Greg's coffee was burning his fingers through the mug; he couldn't move his arm to put it down. It had locked into place. "Yeah, I... but - what're you - "
"They may detain you for some time," Mycroft said. Greg realised he could hear traffic; the sharp slam of a car door. "My team are working at speed. We will come for you. Tell them nothing, Greg."
Holy shit.
"Myc, you're - you're starting to fucking scare me.” Greg swallowed. “Who's coming for - "
The door of his office suddenly cracked open.
Two men in suits entered the room - men with earpieces. Men in gleaming, polished black shoes.
"Inspector Lestrade?" one said, as the other swept Greg’s coat without a word from the door. "We'd like you to come with us, sir. This won't take long."
Greg pulled his focus back to the phone, heart beating hard.
The line had gone dead.
He quietly put the receiver down, and drew a breath.
"On... whose authority am I coming with you?" he asked, staying in his chair even as his coat was carried quickly towards him.
"That's not something you need to know right now," said his visitor. He looked into Greg's eyes - and Greg glimpsed within that stare the cold efficiency of someone who considered himself just a servant - a part of a much greater machine - an agent who'd been sent to fetch Lestrade and was not prepared to fail. "Your co-operation will make this easier," the man added, sleek.
Greg wondered briefly what would happen if he resisted - how far this would go.
They couldn't physically haul him from the building... could they? Half of Scotland Yard would see. Surely there were limits to what these people could actually do.
But he'd never heard Mycroft sound like that.
Greg had heard him in quite a few situations that other people didn’t. But never once like that.
If he was about to pretend he knew nothing about anything, he had no good reason to dig his heels in and fight. It was only going to look suspicious if he did.
Greg bit the inside of his cheek, coming to his split-second decision. He hoped it was the right one.
"Fine," he sighed, feigning weariness. "If it won't take long... is my sergeant coming? You know she's out on her lunch, right?"
He was guided into his coat with worrying speed.
"No, inspector," said his new friend, with a cold flash of his eyes. "Only you."
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mixupmycota · 2 days ago
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that last post reminds me of something i have been considering
for a long time i wanted to change my name and gender markers officially because it felt like doing so would be a firm assertion to the world of who i am, but the past six years have cumulatively changed my stance on this.
namely: i do not look to the state for validation of my gender and sexual identity. the state does not need to know, and i will be undoing some of the changes I had already made.
the reasons behind this choice are twofold: ideological, and practical.
ideologically, i have come to the conclusion that best practice is to give the state as little material as possible to catch on, from a casual examination of my information. I begin to see my inability to 'pass' as a man at this time to be an asset, something that allows me a level of strategic choice in fraught situations.
Practically, standing out beyond the level I already need too in order to survive is a bad idea. The hard rightward trend and rising transphobia in many countries, along with the push from the right in canada and aotearoa for medically assisted dying (and in canada the continual pushing to expand eligibility for it for necropolitical reasons, to create a "progressive" pipeline for pushing people into chemical execution rather than improving conditions for those on the edges of society, something that will absolutely also happen here without immense organizational effort) means that I absolutely do not trust even the cyclical centrist governments with information that marks me as compounding levels of an 'undesirable' demographic.
i would caution other trans people, especially younger ones, and especially those who are not out yet, to weigh very carefully if they want to cede the privacy of the closet to the state. not as a matter of shame, but on a strategic level. even if there is no way to 'pass' as the gender designated to us at birth, until it becomes dangerous for that to be a point of confusion on official paperwork. and then i would suggest, even in the case of nonbinary identity, that in some locations it might be more practical to select the binary option.
the only apparatus that at this time needs to know my gender situation is the medical one, and that is only because i could not secure HRT without entering that system.
it hurts to be misgendered, yes. it hurts to be deadnamed. i weigh a given interaction very carefully and choose which one i want to fight for in informal settings, if i can't get both.
for me, getting the correct name applied to me is more important. i do not need to explain this along the gender axis. It is sufficient to say, "could you call me Morgan, instead? All my friends do. I don't care for my birth name."
If I DO get a name change, I will not link this to my gender situation.
I know who I am, I know what I am, and so do those closest to me.
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hoodnaito · 7 years ago
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hiromu v. dragon lee, ON SIGHT in osaka prefecture: bosj25 thoughts and prayers.
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i was lost for a minute after the fourth no-sell deadlift german. thoughts raced through my mind, wait no, doubts raced through my mind. the crowd was there and polite for other matches but they came alive when Dragon Lee emerged. they showed so much love when hiromu came out. it was going to be a beautiful day. hiromu would bounce back from the lost to el desperado. there’s no way he could emerge from this match with only two points and catch up to Dragon Lee. 
is that a cloud? 
that match was fucking ridiculous. meltzer is right, it’s not the best match they’ve ever had. i remember the first match i ever saw of theirs, back when hiromu was kaimatachi. I was told i had to give this kaimatachi dude a chance. shit was reckless. violent. an exhibition of how much neither of these dudes give a fuck after the bell rings. you can tell either by blood or by association they fucking breathe this ingobernable shit. you saw the soccer ball sail into the crowd, you saw the tranquilo pose in the middle of the ring. if not for this beautiful rivalry and dragon lee’s babyface reputation, i’d love to see those two really tear up tag divisions across the world. golden lovers. young bucks. all 12 shaolin monks from OVE. they’d destroy them all. 
but nah, they’re made to wow audiences across the world. i’m not sure why i felt sad when hiromu lost. they had one hell of a match that i actually went out of my way not to spoil beforehand. i’m not sure if i would’ve been happy to watch it if i knew the result, but what a stupid thought, right? it was worth my NJPWworld subscription alone. it wasn’t the most picture perfect day, but i’ll settle with a good comeback story. 
BUSHI, Hiromu and Naito met up with Tokyo Sports at the family restaurant where they discussed the BOSJ25 so far. at that point, BUSHI had lost his first three matches for the third year in a row. he said he wanted to channel Naito’s 5-4 G1 climax victory. after ditching the check and sticking Tokyo Sports with the bill, BUSHI came away with more than just hamburger steak. after that interview he beat the IWGP champion Will Ospreay. regardless if he doesn’t get another win for the remainder of the tournament, he has staked his claim to a rematch for that title. of course taiji ishimori will have something to say about who goes first. 
the road is still wide open for all competitors in the tournament. tiger mask and flip gordon are overperforming to everyone’s surprise, while Dragon Lee soars to the top of b block like he belongs there. this week’s matches will show a little more urgency, a little more desperation, a little more joy and a little more sadness. every night we’ll pour one out for someone eliminated. but that final at korakuen will be something to see for sure. 
best of the best of the super juniors so far mixtape
ishimori vs. ospreay, night one
dragon lee vs. sho, night two
takahashi vs. scurll, night two
taguchi vs. dragon lee, night four
ospreay vs. yoh, night five
dragon lee vs. hiromu, night six
bushi vs. ospreay, night seven
I still have to catch up on night eight before the next batch of VODs get released. 
realistically, i’d like to see an ishimori/dragon lee final. it would suck seeing hiromu not get the nod at Dominion but only Gedo gets what he wants.
flip gordon makes it too easy for people to hate on him. i don’t dislike him like a lot of people do for his stupid flat earth tweets or that kip up he does that draws nuclear heat from those who don’t want to watch him on a hard cam in the first place. but i see the positive in flip. thanks to the young bucks and cody, he’s more relevant than ever and a 6 point run during the BOSJ is a good result if the tournament was over...we still have another full week! i wouldn’t mind seeing him pop in every once in a while.
ach wins the best BOSJ twitter award. he has fans at delta airlines, he wears dragon ball z masks and he’s having a blast. he was one of my guesses as to who would be the final three announced for BOSJ25 and i’m glad he’s cleaning up. even though he didn’t make it in the mixtape, i appreciate the homie. 
---
dubdubyaeee sent me one of their surveys. shitted on em. i DID big up live attendance network specials with the selfish hope they do another beast from the east joint and show that smackdown four way main event between aj styles, shinsuke nakamura, samoa joe and THE HOMIE: daniel bryan. i just want all four of em to walk out to biggie’s “juicy” because they all deserve to walk into a sold out sumo hall and rock it for the crowd. i would just love to be able to witness it.
i hope kairi sane and asuka are on the tour too. there’s been too much made of their current booking situations being complete failures. i get that joshi fans who also watch the WWE want to see them own their divisions and be showcased to the best of the WWE’s ability.  getting pinned by Lacey Evans isn’t exactly the best of the WWE’s ability, so i feel you...however kairi sane is still the first ever MYC winner. asuka might be screwed out of winning the smackdown title from carmella at money in the bank, but she’s still the first women’s royal rumble winner, still was undefeated for hella days and still SLAPPED RONDA ROUSEY’S HAND AWAY. io shirai (maybe mayu too?) will be just fine.
i wonder what the venn diagram of people who showed up to the enzo shit in time’s square yesterday and those who voted for trump in 2016. is it just a circle? who’s baby was that? should we call CPS? 
finally saw la parka/volador jr/flyer vs. RUSH/bestia/terrible shit was dope. that could go on the mixtape too as like an interlude. i wonder if production needed anything that was in that suitcase la parka broke over Rush. i love how tenative meltzer, alvarez and dr. lucha sound when they talk about la parka vs. rush. everyone expects it to go to shit but i think ultimately everyone is hoping they have a successful hair vs. mask match. you should’ve heard arena mexico though man, shit was live as hell. la parka had the crowd rollin all night. rush and pierroth had the crowd booing so hard, it was wild. exceptional night of action, luchablog homie says they may have gone over 10K at arena mexico. just hold on through the summer and the cmll anniversary show will be one to remember.
listening to:
joe budden podcast, radio strong style podcast, jay rock - “win”, anderson paak - “bubblin”, pusha t - DAYTONA. 
thoughts and prayers to lyin ted cruz. 
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privatemessage · 7 years ago
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Domestic bliss III
From: Mycroft A. H. [[email protected]]
To: Greg Lestrade [[email protected]]
Sent: 27 November 2017 11.21
 Subject: Re : Reminder
 Heaven help us, you're not serious. This is the entirety of next week, is it?
Good God, Greg. I don't think I've ever crashed from utter joy to despair in the space of reading a single email. 
I'd already half-composed you a delirious reply in my mind - that furniture shopping with you is turning out to be the most romantic scenario I've ever imagined... now you're being shipped off to Scotland.
I'm touched that you think my political influence extends to excusing you from anti-discrimination training. Alas, my darling, this is much beyond my sphere of influence...
It seems depressing to say that we can Skype.
I don't wish to be parted either. 'Not optional' is fairly final, though.
Monday? After we've spent a weekend shopping for your home. How unbearable.
I don't suppose you could take very sudden and very early retirement? (i.e., effective immediately.)
 X
  From: Greg Lestrade [[email protected]]
To: Mycroft A. H. [[email protected]]
Sent: 27 November 2017 11:26
Subject: Re Reminder
Hmm,
Well we have a few days before then, and if I must go, I will go. We shall just have to make up for lost time before and after... 
The lads here were talking about a new Thai restaurant, apparently it has rave reviews. I wish we could go, but it's really local and seems like we couldn't be incognito. Maybe we can find somewhere a little further away? I'd like to go out for dinner with you before I have to leave for the week.
So, it's 6rs and approximately 14 minutes before I get home,  are you busy this afternoon? Will we see each other tonight?
Greg x
From: Mycroft A. H. [[email protected]]
To: Greg Lestrade [[email protected]]
Sent: 27 November 2017 11.30
Subject: Re : Reminder
I have a number of meetings this afternoon, and will 'go dark' fairly shortly... but of course. I would love to see you tonight. 
I rather like Thai food, as it happens... 
But of course, there is the peril of being spotted.
I appreciate that Scotland Yard's capacity for gossip has shipwrecked many a career. I would not want to be the cause of damage to your reputation. Not for the world.
Somewhere further afield... perhaps you'd like The Waterside Inn? It's an hour away in a village called Bray. Google will supply you with the menu, I'm sure. Let me know if you like the look of it and I will make a reservation...
Tonight?
Let me take you to dinner. 
Nothing feels quite as good as walking into a restaurant with you. Watching eyes lifting to admire you. Knowing that yours rest only on me.
X
 From: Mycroft A. H. [[email protected]]
To: Greg Lestrade [[email protected]]
Sent: 27 November 2017 11.35
Subject: Re : Reminder
How about here? The food is delicious
http://www.waterside-inn.co.uk/the_cuisine/current_menus/
Myc,  x
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vorthosjay · 8 years ago
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Let’s Talk About Pride of the Kraul
I wasn’t sure I was going to talk about today’s story, Pride of the Kraul, by Alison Luhrs, but it turns out, it’s super important to understanding what’s happening back on Ravnica. AND I HAVE QUESTIONS.
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Mazirek, Kraul Death Priest by Matthias Kollros
Sobeslav, assistant to Guildmaster Jarad, sat cushioned in the comfort of the Guildhall. His desk attached to that of Jarad vod Savo, who could usually be found wandering the maze outside, avoiding the gaze of the public. Liches were not the social type.
Jarad is a major character in the original Ravnica cycle. He helps overthrow the former leaders of the Golgari, and has a quarter-human son, Myc, who last we saw decided to live with his lich dad. The reason Jarad is a lich? He sacrificed his life for his son. Don’t you ever disrepect good dad Jarad. Oh, and that quarter-human piece? The boy’s grandfather was Agrus Kos’ partner before Feather.
He’s one of the few relatively major Ravnica cycle characters who hasn’t seen a card yet, along with Feather and Pivlic. He’d be perfect for an elf tribal commander, given his parentage would put him in White-Green-Black.
HINT HINT WIZARDS, HINT HINT. Print a Myc, plz.
The kraul are an insectoid race loyal to the Golgari of Ravnica. They declared allegiance only recently after centuries of living unguilded on the outskirts of the Undercity.
IN YOUR FACE @sarpadianempiresvol-viii​... although not really for long.
Gruul riots. Shuttering of communication between the Orzhov and the Azorius. It was for the best that the Golgari stayed below—unfortunate happenings were afoot now that the Guildpact could walk and talk and just up and leave.
Gosh, Jace. I wonder what would happen if the guilds suddenly became aware you just went off somewhere and were out of reach. If only someone could have warned you of the catastrophe brewing because of what you’re doing.
If only we had a story hook for Magic’s most popular plane to reappear for next year’s 25th Anniversary, perhaps following Dominaria.
Simple magic could be used to interpret location across these ecosystems of fungus and slime, and nearly all Golgari recognized the intent when gifted an unfamiliar mushroom.
This is a really cool world-building detail.
On the far end of the room, a massive carved slab loomed in front of the group of Golgari elves. Glittering quartz freckled the slab, and careful carvings framed the stone on two sides. Were this stone found Above, one would have mistaken it for part of an oligarch's manor, but here, below the surface, it spoke of a distant and forgotten past.
At the top of the slab, a single sentence, carved deep into the glistening black rock, lined the stonework.
This pretty much screams Orzhov. I wonder what the single sentence is. Perhaps it’s what Mazirek speaks later, the name of the Mausolem? Or is it something else. Something they won’t reveal until later because of it’s importance.
Vraska dropped a spoonful of sugar into her cup
VRASKA. Damn it, I should have known. Of course this is a re-introduction of Vraska, as she’s slated to appear in Ixalan.
Mazirek had first encountered the gorgon once several years ago while consulting the assassins of the Ochran. Mazirek had provided blessings and enchantments to those assassins who asked, and Vraska was the only one who engaged in conversation after. The two began meeting regularly afterward to discuss theology and politics, and their friendship had proven enriching through the years.
Vraska is to sipping tea and chatting, huh? More on that in a moment. We already known she’s corrupted a Boros agent named Javy way back in In the Shadows of Prahv. After her confrontation with Jace, it’s pretty clear she’s working to destroy the guildpact.
Vraska's chamber was cozy, above all else. It was a curiosity cabinet-turned-flat, with every inch of the walls covered in exquisite trinkets and objects beyond all familiarity. The colors and variety were always overwhelming for his compound eyes, but the effect wore off eventually. This was a welcoming place, a traveler's den. Above her kitchen was a dark violet banner. A clay pot with black waves painted along the rim sat on the bookcase. Dozens of little folded paper birds mingled with the ribbons that spanned her ceiling. The effect was calming and captivating; enjoying tea in Vraska's chamber was like sitting in the vaults of a museum. 
So Vraska’s home has some interesting knick-knacks. Here’s what we see:
A dark violet banner. This could be one of a couple things. The first, for anyone who immediately googled all the magic cards with ‘banner’ in the title, is this:
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Sultai Banner by Daniel Ljunggren
Vraska having some involvement with the Sultai makes some sense, except that they haven’t existed for over a thousand years. Silumgar, however, also has Naga and has kept the purple color scheme.
Another possible, and probably far more likely option, is that this is the banner of the faction to which she belongs on Ixalan. ‘Rivals’ indicates factions, and I’ve already said I strongly suspect pirates. It could be her pirate banner.
A clay pot with black waves painted along the rim. This could be another hint to the pirate theme. I haven’t had time to comb through a whole bunch of old art yet, but I’m pretty sure something like this doesn’t already exist. If you find it, let me know ASAP. I’ve heard some theories for this already, but it’s either an Ixalan piece, or a reference to Theros (given she IS a gorgon).
Dozens of little folded paper birds mingled with ribbons that spanned her ceiling. This is interesting. If you described Vraska’s home to me, I would say Tamiyo, and put Vraska very far back on the list. This is obviously origami, and something she values.
Black Tea adds another interesting wrinkle. I’m not sure how common it is on Ravnica, but tea exists there. You know who sips tea like that?
The story-circle. In Tamiyo’s home. And this intellectual take on Vraska offers up a whole new avenue.
We know Vraska is on Ixalan. We know Ajani is going to Ixalan to recruit someone. I’ve speculated that maybe, because of the story-circle connection, it’s Narset or Sarkhan or even Ugin. But what if it isn’t.
We know Vraska has visited a place where Origami exists. We know she drinks black tea (although that might be a meaningless detail). We know Ajani is going to recruit people against Bolas... and the only other known planeswalker on Ixalan is Vraska. 
What if Ajani is going to recruit Vraska? Is she really any worse that Liliana? Or Chandra, for that matter?
Can you imagine the drama when Ajani brings Vraska to a meeting with Jace?
In front of them was a cavern so large they could not sense its walls, and placed like soldiers in formation across the grid of the mausoleum floor were hundreds of stone coffins. The ceiling was stately and ornate, gilded and painted to trick the eye into perceiving it as sky above. Everything about the space spoke of deep, ancient wealth and power. 
As he stepped into the mausoleum a current of magic vibrated over the stones. Mazirek sensed he had triggered an ancient spell, and watched with delight as every single coffin began to loosen itself.
Delicate hands draped with lace and beautiful rings removed the lids of their own coffins, and the undead began to rise of their own accord, just as Vraska had told him they would.
This is DEFINITELY an Orzhov Vault. Perhaps this is the Orzhov threat hinted at in Nissa’s vision from The Hand that Moves? Remember, a sigil that sounds an awful lot like the Orzhov symbol destroyed the tablet that sounded an awful lot like the tablet of the guilds.
Mazirek stood to his full height, staff sweeping in grand gesture over the rising army before him. "Behold, child: Umerilek, Mausoleum of the Erstwhile, the salvation of the kraul and the key to the creation of the Golgari empire."
I don’t believe this is something that has been referenced before. Mausoleum of the Erstwhile is an amusing name, because it sounds fancy but it really just means tomb of the former. Doesn’t tell us much, as we already know it’s old and hidden.
But the Golgari empire piece? It sounds like Ravnica 3 might be able a civil war within the guilds. We have plenty of fracture lines for it already. Perhaps we might even see a return to the open warfare for dominion over the plane that was ended by the original Guildpact.
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smol-consulting-one · 8 years ago
Note
note the use of "partner," not "boyfriend." mummy holmes is just trying to be politically correct, but sherlock mutters under his breath that mummy holmes doesn't know how right she is when she refers to jim as sherlock's partner. mycroft glares at him and jim carries on without missing a beat, complimenting sherlock's parents for the wonderful meal and being genuinely interested in their small talk. he's wearing a fucking christmas jumper. it's all very cozy and maddening. (2/?)
Sjsisnrkxndnsjekksnw OH GOSH YESJim is just such an angel for the family, and its destroying Myc and hes juST LIKE MUMMY NO HES NOT A NICE MAN..STOP.And when Jim and Sherl are alone with just Myc, Jim goes out of his way to start small shit trouble- like grabbing Sherlock's bottom or just kissing him all slow and passionate and Myc is just ..POOR MYC
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mylockholmes · 8 years ago
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Reclaimed Crown  ~ Part 5
Authors Note: i know Hugh dancy is rprobaby too young to be Evan’s dad. but i wanted people i like to use as the face claims for his parents. So Calroline Dharvernas and High Dancy From Hannibal
2nd Author’s Note: I deicded to Name charlock and Mycroft’s Parents Miranda and Carlton i plan on writing aprequel one shot that explains ho they met. Since I read on baker stret wiki there are books with teenage sister for sherlock i altered that character and made her Eurus daughter because if i used her as Sherlock’s sister that would have Made Miranda 60 when she was born
Part One   Part Two   Part Three  Part Four 
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The Holmes Family and The McDaniels were having dinner together the day Before Sherlock’s wedding. Lucy had been living in London two years and Eight Months and she was almost 20 Years Old
“For God’s sake Myc. it’s only polite they may not be comign to the actual wedding but it is only fair for Charlie’s parents to meet the family of the young woman he’s fallen in love with “Why are we doing this? We never go this.”
In hte living room “Mr and Mrs. McDaniel this is my paternal grandfather Carlton Holmes. Granddad these of charlie’s parents. William and Alana McDaniel.” 
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“Would you like some tea? Charlie stay here, please.” she kisses him before exiting amd goign to the kitchen “Dad, please donlt make me speak to you like someone woudl speak to a child. Yoiu are hiding in here because you donlt want to talk to Will and Alana McDaniel.  They are lovely people.”ugg. i need fresh air. i love you dad but you are sometimes so annoying.”
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in the livingroom they heard the backdoor slam “Will, Charlie you stay here. I remember how it feels to have father who isnlt sure about meetin hte people he believes will eventually be his in-laws.”
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She goes outside “Lucy give him time i am sure your dad will come aroudn and evnetually be comfortable.  Does he even know why werw invited to the weddign reception.”
“Not really. I found out by accident. because Charlie accidentally texted me instead of Molly and Mary. YOu and your husband both look too young to have son Charlie’s age.”
She laughed “i was your age when Charlie was born. let’s go back inside I havenlt seen him this happy since he got accepted to the pre med program in London. you perhaps make him happier than that..How come i haven’t met your mother or stepfather?”
“Mom got a touch of food poisoning from the inflight meal and they are stuck i ntheir hotel room.” that was partly true. She had gotten food poisoning but she was helping Greg lestrade plan sexurity because they needed to double it sicne someone had sent  death threat to Sherlock.
“My dad hd in the garage until Will’s parents left.”  the older woman said laughing they enter through the kitchen 
“Dad how about a compromise. you play Chess with William McDnaiel and I will spend two days in the Diogoenes club and do whatever you want.”
“Deal” Mycroft said “But i choose the days.”
“Fine.” the two men spends two hours playing chess 
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 “It’s Okay. I’m here.”  Sharlie said as he put his arm around her “I can’t believe you bartered to get him in here.”
“I did what was neccessary.” she looked at him “you are not goign to start singing are you at least wait until after dinner to be embarassign and adorable..”
He laughed “I just wanted to make you smile you’ve been so tense for hte last few days.”  he smiled “i will be right back.” he goes to help 
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“Mrs’ Holmes, do you need help with anything.”
She smiled at him “Will you taste the stew it seems a slight bit off.”  
he tastes it “it needs a little more seasoning not calt.” he goes through the spice rack”How logn before she came to London did you know about Lucy.”
She smiled at him “Really surprised no one noticed this.  YOu know how Mycroft is hte founding mmemeber of hte Diogenes Club. The Ground breaking was on Lucy’s Birthday and it opened on her Second Birthday. I believe it was created so Mike would always remember her birthday.” 
Carlton “People always assume our boys have no emotions. Mycroft is actually more empathetic than he wants to admit. Lucy got that from him. Eventhough she wasnlt in his life prior to arriving in london she was still a apart of his life.” he tastes the stew after Charlie seasons it “He chose the perfect thing.”
Will enters the kitchen “:Mycroft is pouting because i beat him at chess.”
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“Mike has always been like that. as long asyou’re here will you make sure there are enough plates for everyone. the one with the little flowers aroung the edges. there should be ten unless Sherlock was trying to juggle them again while I was checking the garden.”
Lucy “I remember that  that was my 19th Borthday and he was plate spinning. he chose the the plates that he thought were the least visually appleailing in case he broke them.”
Mrs. Holmes “Really? i wouldn’t put it past him to have chosen the plates he thinks are ugly and hoping they would break.”
“there are 12 of the Plates in question Mrs. Holmes.”
“Please Call me Miranda. Mrs. Holmes makes me feel like I am a widow.” she said “Lucy have you ever met your your Cousin? there are Rumors Eurus has a daughter.” the truth was she did have child fathered by Moriarty. But that is a story for another time
as everyone went itn othe dining room Lucy stopped Charlie “Before you find out by accident. My body gard declan. is my brother. I;ve known about it fo four years.  But he and i were pen pals before that “ 
“I figured something was up when he was there with the entourage when you were trying on bride’s maid dresses.”  he said
“Grandmother, if i get married. will you tell the story about you and granddad met at the reception.”
Miranda “Yes dear.”  everyone in the room was ware of the plan except for Lucy.
Meanwhile.......
Molly was talking to Sherlock, on the phone,  “I will slap you if you ruin the surprise.  Charlie is going to propose to Lucy at our wedding reception.”
“Molly  why would i do a thing like that i may be an arse sometimes. but i am aware that everyone in my family thinks they belong tgether including my lunatic sister and her daughter Enola.”
Molly “Because Sherlock, i love you but you still havenlt learned the proper ways to act.  So we invited Declan to the wedding as a guest. but the satign chart has his table near the back in case of emergency actually by an exit since he’s at hte table with Lucy, Charlie and Charlie’s Parents. “ she smiled to herself “Sherlock he very thing that made people question your sanity is what drew me to you. I could see that you never truly hated people. You just weren’t sure how to act around them. How come you never mentioned havign a sister? Until after she Kidnapped me and Lucy?”
He sighed “Because she was sent away wheni was six and I’d rewritten my memories.” he sighed “It turned out one of my most treasured memories was dissociated and somethign else totally different.”
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Meanwhile..... “Dad, did you get the special wedding gift i wanted to get for Sherlock.”
Mycroft “Yes.  My assistant is caring for the gift.” Lucy had purchased a puppy for Sherlock and Molly. Like hte one sherlock had described in his fake memories. 
At the Home of Melida and Carlton Holmes “Are you sure we are not imposing.”
Miranda “Not at all Alana.  Ever since Mycroft and Sherlock left we’ve been living here alone.” she paused “Lucy has stayed here with us on occassion. before she started living with Charlie. Just get rest this is Holmes family event it is bound to be eventful ”
To Be Continued.......
The wedding scene is in part 6 :
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