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secret-bug-pain-blog · 1 year

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hey um. i realize the moth guy in the voice loss episode is probably just an one off antagonist and really not crush material but breadcrumbs about him please? he sounds hot in a pathetic evil red flag way.

No need to apologize - it's always fun to talk about our writing! Arc is technically a shared OC, originating from a RP with @den-of-collars - he's primarily a rival idol to Mothiva. Tends to be our stock bastard, when we want to antagonize her and/or introduce extra idols to a scene (usually both).

His brand is Edgy Punk Bitch, in the palatable way that Edgy is often worn down to for mainstream consumption and he very much profits off of the "good girl/bad boy" type dynamic that working with Mothiva affords him. Earlier drafts of him were a lot more frat-boy-ish and he's still got a few traces of it remaining, but his public-facing personality's drifted a lot more towards "stereotypical punk".

For the most part, he's a common-or-garden asshole who thinks it's fun to antagonize Mothiva - the threat is from his position as an idol she has to play nice with or face massive consequences, and the fact that he sees little wrong with pushing that antagonism further and doesn't really care about the impact besides his own benefit and what reaction he can get out of Mothiva.

He's a few years younger than her, and currently in the "making a name for himself" stage of the whole fame cycle, whereas Mothiva is near the peak of her appeal and trying to struggle though the plateau in her earnings where she's more or less reached Everyone Who's Interested and now has to keep the line going up before her bosses lose interest - what's important to Arc is putting himself out there and getting an audience, and a "ship" with Mothiva is a very efficient way of getting that attention.

The dynamic itself means he's a lot more "stand-out" - he tends to take centre stage because he gets a lot more leeway for talking over other bugs and being Rude, where Mothiva has to abide with common-courtesy rules at absolute minimum, and he's good enough at turning the tables during banter that she has to censor herself in order to avoid saying anything... inadvisable.

It would be a bit more mutually beneficial, but as previously mentioned, he likes to antagonize Mothiva to the point that she'd rather gargle bees, and any integration beyond dropping hints during interviews and making the occasional hint-heavy love song would be very likely to have their brands clash too much to be properly marketable.

He's got enough in common with Mothiva at that stage that she sees something of herself in him, and she hates his guts partially because of it and partially because of the general antagonism.

Also, to be fair, it is literally his job to be hot. Part of being an idol is Aesthetic Appeal - being hot enough to sell yourself to the widest possible audience. You've fallen for the marketing tactic. Congratulations!

#oc #arc #asks #my posts #febuwhump #if you like him you can literally just steal him btw we Do Not Care if our ocs get used by other people #like half of our ocs are Stock Guy To Put A Place if you need a Stock Guy and one of our stock guys fits you can just steal em #he Does call zasp mothivas Pet and mothiva wants to strangle him for it but she cant say shit bc legally zasp is just Her Bodyguard #and saying anything to the contrary would absolutely put her in legal hot water and probably lose her her job #a lotta the tldr here is “he thinks its funny to fuck w mothiva and mothiva thinks he deserves to be gutted like a fish”#also we have seen ur other ask! we are Working on it but uhhhh there is A Whole Fucking Lot about idols and idol culture in general thats #hoo boy thats a big fuckin load of ethics violations

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alltheladiesyouhate · 2 years

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watching sarah z get absolutely dragged on tiktok and twitter for, uh, commenting on things people said on public forums? with grim fascination

#i do not always agree with her but... like... you're allowed... you're allowed to do that #''did you ASK this person before you'' SHE DOESNT NEED TO LEGALLY OR ETHICALLY #SORRY

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rwby-redux · 2 years

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Thank you for answering my ask. You talk about how faunus would be exploited for "medical miracles" and I thought of one particularly insane scenario. Tell me how crazy do you think the mega rich and the scientific community would get over a faunus with biological immortality of the Turritopsis dohrnii AKA immortal jellyfish? We have an individual who returns to a younger state when old, severely injured or sick and could potentially live forever as long as they are not outright killed.

You’re quite welcome!

A Faunus based on T. dohrynii is what I would call theoretically interesting, in that it hinges on whether or not it’s possible under the constraints of RWBY’s lore.

And that, in turn, depends on the degree to which RWBY is married to realism.

Wall of text inbound, because I am a massive nerd.

Jellyfish are, in a manner of speaking, simple organisms when compared to other animals. Cnidarians are the sister clade to bilaterians (all animals with bilateral symmetry), which makes them one of the oldest lineages of metazoans on the planet, excluding ctenophores (comb jellies), protozoans, and poriferans (sponges). Their bodies are a hydrostatic skeleton composed of mesoglea, a transparent jelly-like tissue. More than 95% of their mesoglea is water. They lack specialized systems for respiration and circulation—oxygen literally diffuses from the water right into their bodies. They have a single opening that directly allows food and waste to pass through their gastrovascular cavity, effectively making this opening both a mouth and an anus.

The reason why I mention any of this is because I’m not sure it would even be possible for a jellyfish Faunus to exist, let alone do something like transdifferentiation.

The lifecycle of T. dohrynii, as it depicts transdifferentiation. | Source: The Australian Academy of Science.

In the case of T. dohrynii, “immortality” is a bit of a misnomer, because these jellyfish can die to predation. What actually happens is that the jellyfish, when exposed to environmental stress, physical assault, old age, or sickness, can revert back to the polyp stage. It does this through a process called transdifferentiation, in which mature, differentiated cells can transform into a different type of mature, differentiated cell, without first having to return to an immature pluripotent state.

I have to wonder if the reason why this trait is so rare in nature is because it requires the organism to be so simple in the first place. Would an animal as complex as a hominid—a triploblastic vertebrate with over 200 types of differentiated, specialized cells—be able to pull this off without that degree of simplicity?

Given that Faunus are, for all intents and purposes, hominids, would their primate biology be able to even handle that sort of radical alteration? How would that work on an animal whose body is only comprised of 60% water, with the other 40% being organic matter and acellular materials?

Again, this is where “how much does realism matter to your story” comes into play. So: could a Faunus based on an immortal jellyfish exist?

The answer is yes, absolutely—provided your audience is willing to suspend their disbelief, and your story leans more heavily on fantasy than science fiction.

(In which case, yeah, I can picture the sort of scenarios that a Faunus with that trait would be dealing with. And they wouldn’t be pretty. If they’re smart though, they would try to pass themself off as human, or lie about what their trait is, in order to avoid drawing the attention of the medical community. Otherwise, they’d be getting harassed to participate in academic studies. And for the record, that’s the best case scenario.)

#asks #hivemind42 #faunus #i speak #for the record the redux isn't going to have any faunus with cnidarian characteristics #but oh my god could you imagine the poor bastard who has this trait #every bio lab on remnant with grant money would have this dude's address and phone number #they'd be constantly sending letters or leaving voicemails to try and convince them to participate in their studies #hey come volunteer for our ethically-dubious clinical trials #just sign right here #don't worry you don't need to read over the other 102 pages #that's just legal nonsense #definitely not you signing away the rights to your organs #biology

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yther · 5 months

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to those that stay entwined with grief and mourning, there are only days of dying

I want to make the world softer

I want my kindness to be reciprocated by others

I want to be around *good* people - people good to me and for me. people good to animals, people who protect others

I want to feel free from persecution, I want to feel safe in a bedroom. in a neighborhood where people want me dead

I want this...this prank crime tournament joke to end.

Henceforth this is truth.

To Make it So, meesa has.

(I want photoshop to work!!! picard as yoda if yoda were also a gungan)

ahahaaaa 30 tag limit tangential diatribe abt my qualms

#to press or not to press #charges #to tip or not to tip faa about potentially dangerous personnel - current first officer of delta's regional carrier as far as I know #who do you call to ask who to call about that LOL #I want safety for all and justice of all #being a human with morals AND awareness of ethics is hard dealing with the internet / ai generative content / a conspiratorial gaggle of #these ridiculous “frenemies” that play the long con #NTS - Lt made a pumpkin patch fun festival thing rushed/anxious/unfun and he has always been manipulative and passive aggressive #tldr family annihilator vibes and if he started this He Is. and I should be thankful I only got retribution from escaping before he had any #more power over me and my life because clearly he is unstable - beyond impulsive #he is calculating and cruel #idk if the faa cares but just like the ol' boys the way they talk about PAX (passengers) as like animals and joke about messing with people #it hits different when a 25yo did The Grind for 1.5k hours and is The Golden Boy....who catfishes people and stole my data. previously tried #to ruin a marriage by catfishing a married man #does the industry really trust and rely on people with extreme repressed anger because BTW pax will suffocate and die when oxy masks #don't work because pilots have their own independent system and if it goes to shit #oxygen DOES NOT flow thru the mask until altitude is down #he's one of those people who is perfectly calm until they silently implode and I feel like he'd be suicidal over homicidal when he snaps #but for a pilot same difference #what if trying to get an RO or any legal action endangers 70+ human lives? what if NOT reporting bipolar/schizo-affective pilot who won't #get mental health help because the diagnosis ruins careers so pilots are “don't ask don't tell” about psych issues #what if NOT saying something when I've seen “”something“” costs lives one day?#jesus christ y'know this is insane #the stalking the harassment the identity theft the disseminating of stolen private data #someone fucking broke into my house #the retaliation and blackmail for escaping has lead to an online army telling me to kill myself if I want ever really get away #I feel like this person - my bias aside - is the perfect example of why psych evals are worthless --- unless they screened RLY prejudicially #otherwise an excellent or compulsive liar (WHO CAN'T EVER SPELL “DEFINITELY” I SEE U BOY) is just proving their excellence in lying...and #I know being able to avoid panic by lying convincingly is a huge asset for pilots and that mindset can be be very helpful #but high achieving and highly competitive (in secret) people... of a demographic that has most expensive car insurance because Risk Assessed

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transxfiles · 1 year

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lost phineas and ferb episode where perry is called to investigate what dr doofenshmirtz is up to because carl the intern got ahold of some intel that doof has been seen speaking to lawyers and looking up the endangered species act at internet cafes and as major monogram says, "something fishy is going on"

meanwhile phineas and ferb's subplot of "i know what we're gonna do today!" is that isabella needs her environmentalist fireside girls badge so they start researching which species are in urgent need of help in the tri-state area so that they can use new cloning and gene therapy technologies to bring at-risk animals back from extinction

(yes there is a c-plot where buford and baljeet argue the ethics of this idea, i don't have time to explain it all for you rn)

we cut back to🎵doofenshmirtz evil incorporated🎵where we see perry carefully maneuvering around doofenshmirtz's lab scared he might fall into a trap but he hasn't set off a single booby trap and it's clear something is off

he runs into doofenshmirtz and goes to kick him in the gut action movie style but doof steps back one overly confident and says, "nuh uh uh, you see perry the platypus, you are TRAPPED! by the danville section of the endangered species act of 1973!"

doof goes on to explain his tragic backstory: "you see, perry the platypus, when i was a child my parents did not show up for my own birth! but you know that already, yadda yadda yadda they did not love me and then they loved roger more, ANYways i was raised by ocelots! i had a lovely foster mother who took me in and made me one of the pride, and so you see, perry the platypus, i am still legally considered an ocelot. did you know that there are only 50 recorded ocelots still alive in the continental united states? very sad for me as a member of a near-extinct species. it would be immoral for you to hurt someone critically endangered... in fact, you have made many attempts on my life this summer"

[montage of doof's security camera footage of their battles]

"which is why i have decided to bring you... TO COURT!" we cut back to phineas and ferb's back yard where they've decided to start cloning ocelots in their kiddie pool

candace storms outside enraged and says, "phineas and ferb are you cloning ocelots in my duckie momo kiddie pool!?"

ferb's one line of the episode is "well, i guess it's more of a kitty pool, now"

candace storms away saying, "i'm going to tell mom!" and isabella turns to phineas and says, "oh, does your mom have experience in wildlife conservation?"

we cut back to the doof and perry plotline where the two are now in the danville hall of justice and we learn that doof has spent his monthly alimony check on a defense lawyer and perry turns and sees the lawyer and then vanessa helping her organize her briefcase and perry chitters at her and vanessa shrugs and says, "i'm thinking about going into legal defense. sorry perry."

the rest of the doof and perry b-plot is spent in court and perry is about to ask for a public defense lawyer when carl runs into the room and explains that he's owca's official legal defense and perry looks at him like, "uhhh is that even allowed?"

it doesn't matter because apparently the judge is out sick today but because it's danville roger's the judge now because he's the mayor and everyone loves him.

the court case continues.

meanwhile phineas and ferb have successfully cloned multiple ocelots from the original ocelot dna they had on hand and isabella asks phineas if these clones will experience health problems like premature aging, phineas casually explains that ferb figured out the problem while they were experimenting with stem cell harvesting.

back in the courtroom, doof's ocelot foster mother has been brought to the stand along with an ocelot to english translator. doof gets emotional seeing her after so long. she says that he was one of her favorite child and he was as strong a hunter as anyone else in the family. it's incredibly sweet. the jury's in tears.

meanwhile, isabella has established connections with a group in texas who are going to release the ocelots back into their natural habitat and, using the cloned ocelots to prevent inbreeding, help establish an ocelot breeding program. the group explains that they are going to send a helicopter to retrieve the cloned ocelots from danville and bring them to texas soon.

isabella gets her fireside girls badge.

candace manages to get mom to see the backyard only after the ocelots have been helicoptered off to coastal texas, their primary habitat.

mom makes it into the backyard as phineas stares wistfully over the fence and says, "if you love something, you have to let it go." candace goes, "look mom look look look!" and points at the ducky momo kiddie pool, devoid of cloned ocelots, where baljeet and buford are now chilling out, having settled their philosophical debate about the ethics of animal cloning.

back in the courtroom drama, doof looks like he's about to win when an attendant walks into the courtroom and whispers something in roger's ear.

roger looks up, grinning, and says, "good news, everyone! my attendant here has just enlightened me that ocelots are no longer considered critically endangered!"

this settles the case, with perry being decreed not guilty and the entire affair being called off. the courtroom cheers, roger walks over to doof and personally congratulates him on his species' return from the brink of extinction.

doof shouts, "curse you endangered species classification system!" at the ceiling of the danville hall of justice.

perry arrives back home just in time for mom to say, "who wants pie?"

the end.

#cricket.chatterbox #phineas and ferb #pnf #dr doofenshmirtz #perry the platypus #phineas flynn #ferb fletcher #greatest hits

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fairuzfan · 25 days

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Would you rather have a president that enables a genocide? Or would you rather have a president that vilifies immigrants, promotes facism, dismantles the rights of women and minorities, emboldens white nationalists, worsens the wage gap, defunds vital services, AND enables a genocide?

It's an unfair and unreasonable question to ask. I know. Unfortunately those are our choices for president. It sucks, but it's a 2 party system. And until any change is made where a 3rd party vote is no longer equivalent to not voting at all, it's better to just vote blue for the presidential election. Not because Democrats are the "lesser evil", but because NOT having a Republican president will prevent further suffering of Americans and will lessen the risks of minorities' rights being threatened and revoked.

The president chooses the members of the supreme court who hold lifelong positions and whose legal decisions have decades-long ramifications. Trump picked 3 of the 11 current members who currently hold a Republican majority. It was that supreme court that overturned Roe V Wade and that decision is harming thousands of people today in multiple states.

Biden already nominated one SCOTUS, and in his next term he could appoint 1-2 more Democratic members who would work to protect rather than erode American rights.

The Trump administration was lethal for thousands of Americans for a multitude of reasons, including his failure to properly respond to and then proceeded to politicize the COVID-19 pandemic.

As awful as it sounds, as hard as it is to believe in the moment, ESPECIALLY with the atrocities Biden is perpetuating in Palestine right now, don't believe for a moment that this genocide would be even slightly less cruel under Trump. The difference is Trump's cruelties would extend to Americans as well— especially immigrants.

The point I'm making is the only ethical choice for this election is to vote for Biden, but at the same time that vote is not the same as condoning his actions. Don't let voting be the end all for political action, and I hope you understand why this choice is necessary in an unfair voting system. Please participate in your local elections, Call your representatives. Continue demanding a permanent ceasefire and an end of Israel's occupation over Palestine. And please keep helping Palestinians.

I think it's quite wild to say people domestically haven't been dying under Biden. Hundreds of thousands disabled people have died during the Biden presidency due to covid. I myself only got covid because people around my family stopped masking. Even some of my family members stopped masking because of the CDC thing. There have been countless other things that I'm too tired to list as well that directly contributed to the death of people.

I'm sorry I don't know why you sent this I'm not going to change my mind. I'm not voting for the man that killed people I know and lied to our faces about it.

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rileyslibrary · 1 year

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Ghost is training you on interrogation techniques and thinks you’re a lost case. He’s wrong.

———————————————————————

He unfolds a case of what looks like surgical equipment on the wooden table.

“Are you going to check my teeth for cavities, Lt.?” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh. He never does.

He picks up something that looks like a wrench and shows it to you.

“What’s this for?” He asks, to which you reply, with the utmost confidence that it looks like that tool your grandfather used when you were a kid to break the bathroom door because you locked yourself in there.

He shuts his eyes and holds his breath.

“See, I didn’t want to eat my vegetables, and-”

“Enough.”

“That’s what I told them; no more veg-”

“Stop with the focken veggies.”

“You don’t like them either, huh?”

He lets out a long exhale and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t think you’re fit for this.” He finally says.

But you are. There's a reason why you are here, and it’s because you’re damn good at your job. Sure, you never learned how to conduct an interrogation the way Ghost understands—in a physical and rather brutal manner—but, you had your ways.

“I beg to differ, Lt.” You oppose him.

“You can beg as much as you want, soldier,” he replies, “but you’ll never be able to make someone beg for mercy.”

You look at the interrogation tools on the table and point at them. “These are unethical, by the way.”

“These,” he says, “serve a purpose for the job and are perfectly legal.”

“So is farting in an elevator,” you reply. “Totally legal to do, yet sorta sucks for everybody else.”

“You should have gone to law school if you’re so passionate about ethical matters,” he says, “but you’re definitely not fit to be here.”

“The captain thinks otherwise.”

“The captain is wrong.” He mumbles under his breath.

“What’s that?” You ask, cupping your palm over your ear, “Are you defying the captain now, Lieutenant Riley?”

“No, I’m jus-”

“That’s against the Army Leadership Code,” you state and shuffle through your bag to get the rulebook. You open it up and clear your throat. He looks at you with that tool in his hand, eager to start plucking your fingernails one by one. Instead, he chooses words.

“I know what the guide says-”

“PAGE 45, PARAGRAPH SIX,” you shout like you’re reporting for duty, “IF AN OFFICER DISOBEYS THE-”

“Stop this instance!” He cries, but you hear none of it. You carry on undisturbed by his roaring voice. You’ll recite the entire book if that’s what’s needed. He leaves the tool on the table and approaches you, posing as an authority figure and yelling in your face. You stop for a minute and turn to look at him, explaining that what he’s doing right now is also against the code, and continue reading out loud.

“FAILURE TO OBEY A MILITARY ORDER BY A HIGHER UP-”

He throws his head up, closes his eyes, and raises his hands up to his temples.

“For the love of god and all that is holy, soldier,” he cries, “please stop talking.”

You close the booklet and throw it on the table. There’s dead silence. You approach him with a smug face and lower your gaze—but not your head—to the ground.

“Well, guess what, Lt.” You ask, and he opens his eyes to look at you.

“You just begged,” you whisper, “and I didn’t have to use any of your,” you gesture with a sneer at the tools on the table, “cheap cutlery.”

He keeps looking at you, confused. You pick a scalpel from the case.

“I thought you didn’t like my tools, soldier.” He says.

“I don’t,” you reply and pull an apple out of your bag, “but I need to cut my fruit.”

He throws his hands to his sides and looks at you, defeated, as you peel the apple.

You stop midway.

“Is the scalpel sterilised?” You ask.

“Of course, it’s sterilised!” he shouts, “we always sterilise our tools as per the rulebook!”

———————————————————————

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neil-gaiman · 6 months

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Hello Mr. Gaiman, hope this ask finds you in good health, I really need your help.

I’m a law student and currently taking a course on Law and Literature, brilliant by the way. We were given the freedom to chose a theme of our preference on the way law is represented through literature, and I thought Good Omens was the perfect subject for me.

I was interested in focusing on a faulty, inflexible system, especially one heavily influenced (in this case entirely made up) by ‘canon law’ and the way it influences social spheres. The incoherent dichotomy of moral good and bad, the way they influence ethical right and wrong translated into law.

What I was interested in is whether the legal system of Good Omens is based on positive legislation, or more on a customary, spiritual one. The reason why the question arose is the specific scene of ‘The Clue’, where Aziraphale openly ‘acts against the will of God’, and is convinced he will be brought to hell by Crowley. This is interesting to me, because in response he just says that he wouldn’t tell on him, and that was that.

Does that scene mean that angel status is not based on a spiritual(literal sense) monitoring of the soul, but rather about obeying statute and the way it is institutionally evaluated? Is there a set legislation, would it be God’s will? For that reason, would it be ineffable?

I feel like the fact that God is supposed to be omniscient would kind of undermine that theory, but nonetheless I wonder. I suppose that what I’m pleadingly asking for is some insight on the legal frame you maybe pictured for the Up and the Down (do they follow the same general legislation? Is it about legal pluralism? Are they monitored? Is it about lack of sufficient number of managers or oversaturated personnel?).

Pretty please,

A very desperate uni student

P.S. I’m very sorry about the length, I’m not good at summarizing things that I really enjoy. Also sorry for possible writing errors, English is not my first language. (If you see this more than once, sorry. As we’ve already established, I’m a little desperate)

I love these questions. Honestly, I don't think the Good Omens Heaven/Hell system is codified enough for me answer, other than to say both sides are very big on rules and have codes and agreements (see Crowley bluffing in the bookshop) and whatever you put in your essay I promise I will never turn up and maintain that you were wrong.

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justtogetthrough · 2 years

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I'm pretty sure an estate lawyer I had hired to help me with a will dropped me as a client because of reasons directly related to my brain injury and I'm extremely mad and offended but I also hated the lawyer a lot and it's not like I want to keep working with him, and it's not like I'm about to sue a lawyer for discrimination, but I'm pretty heated about them citing my disability as the reason they are asking I seek services elsewhere tbh.

#the letter basically insinuates i cant read and they think im dumb #when in reality he had told me in our meeting he was not wanting to write up a trust and i should look at an annuity #so i did and decided to pursue a trust. emailed the clerk back to be like is he really against doing that or can we proceed #and in the termination letter they cite an email where he wrote i could get back to him specifying terms of the trust #and its like cool but a) i didnt remember that i only remembered you arguing wit me face to face. a memory problem related to my concussion #and b) im not a lawyer idk wtf the terms of a trust would be thats why i was asking to MEET WITH YOU TO DISCUSS #the letter they sent to settle up (biggest waste ever) literally suggests they do not wish to work with me since i cant read emails #its so fckn rude and im mad theyre billing me $350 for 1 meeting where he just argued w/ everything i asked for and didnt explain fuck all #i am so sick of dealing with other people #im not even going to make a legal will. im just going to write out my fial wishes and hope my blood relations are ethical enough to do it #i cant wait to move out to the country and never interact with anyone ever again #i feel ashamed and humiliated by their termination letter and its like. i have memory impairment from a traumatic brain injury.#SORRY????#fuck #personal

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suzukiblu · 6 months

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NaNoWriMo fic, day one: obligatory sugar daddy Tim/sugar baby Kon AU.

Tim Drake had absolutely no intentions of ever becoming anyone's sugar daddy when he met Superboy.

This would have worked out better for him if Superboy had ever had an actual legal identity or an actual legal guardian or just . . . literally anything whatsoever in life. Ever. At all.

Just a bank account, even.

"You're working for Cadmus," Tim says slowly. "Cadmus, as in the lab that stole Superman's body and cloned him without his consent. Cadmus, which you had to break out of so they couldn't put mind control code words in your head."

"Yeah," Superboy replies like that's not literally insane. Tim stares at him.

"Why?" he asks incredulously.

"Food and shelter?" Superboy shrugs. "And I mean, I dunno, where else am I gonna go?"

Tim is not okay with this situation.

"What did Superman say?" he says.

"Just to like, keep an eye on things," Superboy says with another shrug. "Make sure they're not up to anything shifty."

Tim stares at him.

"Superman," he says. "Told you to just . . . 'keep an eye on' the dubiously ethical cloning lab. The specific dubiously ethical cloning lab that tried to put mind control code words in your head. Specifically."

"Yeah," Superboy confirms.

Alright, Tim is actually even less okay with this situation than he thought, apparently. Like, impressively less.

"Okay," he says. It is absolutely no kind of okay in any way whatsoever, of course, but he doesn't want to put Superboy on the defensive. That'd make effectively interrogating him a lot harder, for one thing. Cooperative subjects are best in these situations. "What are they paying you?"

"I mean, like, they gave me my own room and they're feeding me and whatever, so I don't really need much money," Superboy says. "There's a discretionary fund I can use if I need to go on an undercover mission or anything like that? But I'm not really the undercover type anyway."

"Sure," Tim says. So . . . no way for Superboy to save up to move out and get an out-of-lab life, then. Great. That's not fucked-up or crazy or horrible at all. "Do you like it there?"

"It's okay," Superboy says, shrugging again. "Better than literally everybody in Hawaii yelling at me every time they see my face, yeah?"

Tim wants to set the world on fire, but he's trying really hard not to go supervillain before he's thirty and he'd hate to throw out all that hard work.

"They just let me do whatever, mostly," Superboy adds. "They don't really care as long as I'm around when they need me."

He'll go supervillain as soon as Bruce dies, Tim promises himself. Just–he'll give his share of the eulogy at the funeral and then he'll blow up three-fourths of Arkham and the entire GCPD while Commissioner Gordon is on his lunch break. He can time that out, that'll be easy. And then he'll go and personally murder the Joker with the very specific combination of a rusty crowbar and a shrapnel bomb, and then he'll just . . . well, he'll just go with the flow from there, he figures. Do whatever feels natural.

Seriously, the world as it is does not deserve to exist. It really just does not.

Tim figures he can probably convince the rest of Young Justice to tag along for the whole supervillain thing and hopefully Dick and Steph and Barbara too, and ideally also Alfred, in the unfortunately likely event that he outlives Bruce. He's got time to lay the groundwork with them all and all, and also everything really is awful and horrible and really does deserve to burn.

"Are they sending you to school or anything? Or tutoring you?" Tim asks with what little scraps of hope he has left. Higher education would be . . . well, something, at least. And actually it probably wouldn't hurt for Superboy to learn a bit more about genetic engineering from the same place he got genetically engineered, just in case anything goes wrong with his DNA again. Cadmus should at least be good for that much, right?

"Ew, no, thank fuck," Superboy says, making a face. "Like I said, they mostly let me do whatever until something needs punched."

So . . . no furthered education or learning any usable job skills or making real money or literally anything that could, again, lead to Superboy ever getting any kind of an actual out-of-lab life established.

Great.

Just great.

"I see," Tim says.

"It's a pretty sweet gig, considering," Superboy says, and grins brightly at him. It's a very nice grin. Normally being faced with that particular grin would make Tim need to beat down the highly unprofessional urge to kiss it.

Right now, though, he's a little bit more concerned with the fact that his teammate is just . . . living in and working for a fucking lab. As a matter of course. Just as a thing.

And Superman of all people thinks that's . . . fine, for some reason? Like, normal and ethical and okay? Somehow? In some way?

What the actual fuck, Tim thinks to himself.

"You said Superman told you to keep an eye on things?" he asks.

"Yeah," Superboy says, his grin widening. "He took me to his fortress and asked me to do it there. Showed me around a bit, too."

"That sounds really interesting," Tim says, wondering in vague disbelief if that means Superman had never taken Superboy to the Fortress of Solitude before. He must've, right? And just . . . inexplicably not shown Superboy around then.

Yeah. Sure.

"It was awesome!" Superboy says with more enthusiasm than Tim's seen from him since they met Nina Dowd's . . . endowments, seemingly forgetting the need to be "cool" for long enough to lean forward in his seat and outright beam at him. Tim is gonna need a minute to recover from the sight of that expression, probably. "It's seriously freaking freezing up there, but there's so much cool shit in the place. Like, from all over the universe, but from Krypton, even! The only thing I'd ever seen from Krypton before was kryptonite!"

Tim considers moving up his supervillain timeline after all. Like. Just possibly. Just a little.

Maybe he can convince Bruce to take an early retirement off-planet and just go from there.

What the hell is wrong with Superman?

"Oh, wow, really?" Tim says, simultaneously pretending he didn't already know what Superman has in his fortress and trying not to be screamingly obvious about the internal calculations he's running on figuring out how to weaponize red sunlight. Or like, maybe he could look into learning some magic. That's technically an option. Probably more time-consuming and harder to hide the process of, though. Still, it's on the table.

"Yeah. He showed me some of it. Told me some stories and stuff, even," Superboy says, and that excited grin turns just a little bit shy and soft and somehow even more distracting than usual. He ducks his head just a little, and then that soft grin is more like a soft smile, and Tim suffers. "And I, uh–and he gave me something, too."

"What did he give you?" Tim asks, praying to God that the answer is "an emergency contact number" or "an allowance that can cover a semi-decent Metropolis apartment" or "an offer to live literally anywhere but Cadmus, including in the thirtieth century or on a hostile alien planet or inside an active volcano". He's technically an atheist, so the praying thing is probably moot, but times of desperation are times of desperation.

"A name," Superboy says, and his smile widens helplessly. "Like, you know, a real one."

Tim might hate Superman, he thinks. That might actually be a thing now.

Yeah, he's definitely going supervillain after Bruce dies and doesn't need an emotional support sidekick anymore. Better start stocking up on the kryptonite.

"That's great," he says with a very carefully not-forced smile of his own instead of anything more along the lines of "wait, you've been alive and active as a superhero for all this time and no one ever actually named you?!" Superboy would probably take it the wrong way, not in the least because that genuinely never actually occurred to him as being a thing before. Like–he really did just assume Superboy was keeping a lid on whatever his real name was for personal reasons or Superman reasons or something. "Are you allowed to tell me it, or is that a no-go?"

"Oh, yeah," Superboy says with a sheepish laugh, rubbing at his arm. "It's like, a Kryptonian name? Not like a secret identity one. It's, uh, Kon-El."

Of course it's not even a damn secret identity, Tim thinks in absolute frustration and abject loathing. Of course not! Why would it be?! Fuck forbid!

"I like it," he says, because he lies to Batman and therefore there is no fucking way that he's going to let Superboy–Kon–see any sign whatsoever of the metaphorical 9.9 on the Richter scale that is currently happening in his psyche. "It suits you."

"You think?" Kon grins all the wider. Tim can't even calm down enough to want to kiss him, except in the sense that he always wants to kiss him.

"I do," he says, and smiles at him again.

Kon smiles back.

Tim hates everything. All the things. There is nothing that Tim doesn't hate right now, except maybe Alfred's snickerdoodles because he might be having a nervous breakdown but he's not, like, criminally insane or whatever.

Yet.

"Yeah, it's kinda cool," Kon says, straightening up in his seat and then leaning back, clearing his throat and slipping his sunglasses back on like they're not in a literal cave right now. Tim doesn't call him on it, because he has a supervillain timeline to work out and that's much more important.

Also because the teammate he has an inadvisable crush on is in a much, much shittier situation than he ever realized and he has to reconcile that with his worldview and also his opinion of Superman. Tim doesn't especially idolize the man except in the sense of knowing he's one of the greatest heroes on Earth and a very, very good man that Bruce thinks incredibly highly of, one of the best men on the League and maybe even on the planet, but . . .

But if he's such a good man, then why the hell is Kon living in a lab that tried to mind-control him and why has he only just seen the Fortress of Solitude for the first time?

Why didn't he have a real name?

"So do we call you Kon or Kon-El now?" Tim asks, which is a bit of a senseless question but also at least a bit of a distraction. He wants to say this whole situation is a horrible idea, who the FUCK convinced you this situation was a good idea?!, but there is no possible way that Kon would respond well to that. Ever.

Also, Kon had a point. Where else is he gonna go?

Clearly not the Fortress of Solitude.

Seriously, would it be that hard for Superman to give him a room there? At least a place to stay sometimes, so he wasn't exclusively relying on the mind-control cloning lab for food and shelter and basic comforts?

"I think just Kon?" Kon says, frowning consideringly. "'El' is like Superman's last name, I guess? So I think just Kon."

"Makes sense," Tim says, internally seething. Superman gave him the "El" name but not a secret identity? A name from a dead civilization with a bit of sentimental value, maybe, but nothing usable on this planet? Fuck, you'd think Kon didn't already know his secre–

. . . Kon doesn't know Superman's secret identity, does he.

Tim had thought he was lying, when he'd said that stuff about Superman not having one, before. Thought it was supposed to be a cover or a misdirection or something. But Kon actually thinks that, doesn't he. And Superman has just . . . kept letting him think that.

Becoming a supervillain actually might be an underreaction, in retrospect.

"Just Kon sounds less formal anyway," Tim says instead of so just in theory, do you think tactile telekinesis could trigger a heart attack or stroke in a full-blooded Kryptonian, if you could REALLY concentrate on doing it? like not FATALLY, just dehabilitatingly?, because he still has some groundwork to do before they get that far into potential supervillainy. There's steps to the plan. The steps need to be followed. They're very important steps. "You don't want Bart full-naming you every time he's looking for the remote."

"Like he'd even bother, it's faster for him to turn the living room upside-down than actually ask anyway," Kon says with a laugh, dropping his head back on his neck. Tim has some thoughts about climbing into his lap and figuring out if the TTK makes him hickey-proof, and then buries them. Not appropriate. Not professional. Just not.

. . . technically, if Kon wanted a hickey, he could just let his TTK down and ask for–

Tim buries his thoughts deeper.

Much, much deeper.

"Point," he says. "So what time does Cadmus expect you back?"

"Dude, it's a job, not a boarding school," Kon says, giving him an amused look. "I don't have a curfew."

Tim, technically, hasn't followed his own curfew any way but accidentally once in his entire life, but for god's sake, is Cadmus even pretending to be raising a teenager or are they really just being that flagrant about ignoring all the child labor laws they so clearly do not give a fuck about? Like, there must be something illegal about this. There has to be.

If there's not, Tim will be adding "burn down Project Cadmus" to his list of supervillain plans to set up in advance. In red pen. Underlined.

Twice.

God, why is the world like this. Why are people like this?

"I guess that'd be convenient," Tim says, internally ranking various methods of combustion. "Though I guess it depends on the cafeteria hours, too."

"It's whatever, I can always eat later," Kon replies with a shrug. "I think I've still got a couple protein bars in my room anyway."

"Just protein bars?" Tim asks, mentally upping the amount of explosives he was considering going with. Cadmus is going to be a crater by the time he's done with it. "Don't you need more calories than that?"

". . . well, sort of," Kon says, folding his arms and looking very briefly embarrassed. "Superman doesn't have to eat, apparently, but, uh, guess I'm not Kryptonian enough for that. Actually I kinda need to eat more than normal humans, it's weird. Like. A lot more."

"I'm ordering pizza," Tim says, upping his mental explosives count again. "What do you want on it?"

"We're the only ones here," Kon says, looking puzzled.

"More pizza for us, then," Tim says.

#timkon #tim drake #kon el #conner kent #dc robin #superboy #young just us #young justice #long post #rinfic #wip: obligatory sugar baby Kon

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deepdreamnights · 17 days

Text

Hey, you know how I said there was nothing ethical about Adobe's approach to AI? Well whaddya know?

Adobe wants your team lead to contact their customer service to not have your private documents scraped!

This isn't the first of Adobe's always-online subscription-based products (which should not have been allowed in the first place) to have sneaky little scraping permissions auto-set to on and hidden away, but this is the first one (I'm aware of) where you have to contact customer service to turn it off for a whole team.

Now, I'm on record for saying I see scraping as fair use, and it is. But there's an aspect of that that is very essential to it being fair use: The material must be A) public facing and B) fixed published work.

All public facing published work is subject to transformative work and academic study, the use of mechanical apparatus to improve/accelerate that process does not change that principle. Its the difference between looking through someone's public instagram posts and reading through their drafts folder and DMs.

But that's not the kind of work that Adobe's interested in. See, they already have access to that work just like everyone else. But the in-progress work that Creative Cloud gives them access to, and the private work that's never published that's stored there isn't in LIAON. They want that advantage.

And that's valuable data. For an example: having a ton of snapshots of images in the process of being completed would be very handy for making an AI that takes incomplete work/sketches and 'finishes' it. That's on top of just being general dataset grist.

But that work is, definitionally, not published. There's no avenue to a fair use argument for scraping it, so they have to ask. And because they know it will be an unpopular ask, they make it a quiet op-out.

This was sinister enough when it was Photoshop, but PDF is mainly used for official documents and forms. That's tax documents, medical records, college applications, insurance documents, business records, legal documents. And because this is a server-side scrape, even if you opt-out, you have no guarantee that anyone you're sending those documents to has done so.

So, in case you weren't keeping score, corps like Adobe, Disney, Universal, Nintendo, etc all have the resources to make generative AI systems entirely with work they 'own' or can otherwise claim rights to, and no copyright argument can stop them because they own the copyrights.

They just don't want you to have access to it as a small creator to compete with them, and if they can expand copyright to cover styles and destroy fanworks they will. Here's a pic Adobe trying to do just that:

If you want to know more about fair use and why it applies in this circumstance, I recommend the Electronic Frontier Foundation over the Copyright Alliance.

#AI discourse #long post #copyright #copyleft #fair use #AI art #adobe #PDF

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witchslove · 2 years

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okay so i’ve got a request for stepmom!wanda x reader 🤭

maybe wanda seducing/the other way around or just like kinda dark!stepmom!wanda making reader lay on her chest and eventually suck her nipples when they’re upset or maybe stressed over school (because you know… lactation kink)

and yeah, lots of mommy kink 😵‍💫🤭

Stress Relief

Pairing: Stepmom!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Whenever you're overwhelmed, your loving stepmom is there to make it better.

Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; dark!stepmom!wanda, slight dubcon, mommy kink, lactation kink, praise kink, legal age gap, cheating, manipulation

A/N: Thank you for the request, this one kinda got away from me so I hope you enjoy! This is my first time writing stepmom Wanda and I love her so much already <3

–––––––––––––

You always felt so relaxed in Wanda’s presence.

With her hand in your hair, long delicate fingers stroking your scalp, and your head resting on her soft chest, you felt safe.

Deadlines were kicking your ass and you were more stressed than you’d ever been, your second year at university proving to be much more vigorous than your first. Wanda practically had to drag you out of your room to watch a movie with her, not taking no as an answer despite you trying to explain how behind you were on your assignments.

She’d had enough of seeing you work yourself nearly to death, staying up half the night and accidentally skipping meals, too focused on your academics. She wasn’t mad at you for it, in fact, she admired your work ethic. You were ambitious and a perfectionist, so eager to please.

Always such a good girl.

And good girls deserved rewards. So she’d demanded that you take a break and join her in her room for a movie.

Technically she wasn’t lying; there was a movie playing in the background as she played absentmindedly with your hair. But that wasn’t the real reason she’d invited you into her bed.

About twenty minutes into the movie, she decided to put her plan into motion.

Her sweet touches and warm body molded into yours as you cuddled were enough to have you instantly relaxing into her. Right where she wanted you.

Ever since she’d met you, she thought you were a precious little thing - so sweet, so smart, so willing to help her whenever she needed it. She planned to see just how far she could push that last one.

The first time she laid eyes on you, she thought you were adorable. She felt an instant attraction to you and, luckily for her, your father made his presence around the house scarce for work reasons, leaving the two of you alone quite often.

For months she played the motherly role in your life. She made dinner, asked you about school, offered to help you with your homework, and spent time with you as much as you wanted.

Really as much as she wanted, but whatever she wanted she knew she could make you want even more. She was so good at it that most of the time whatever she wanted seemed like it was your idea in the first place and Wanda loved the fact her sweet girl was so oblivious to her intentions.

She touched you as much as possible, whether it was her hands on your waist as she moved past you, her fingertips tracing patterns into your exposed thigh during dinner, or having you curl up into her side when you watched movies. She didn’t miss the way you would always melt into her touch, knowing she had you wrapped around her finger as much as you did her.

As the movie played in the background, she tightened her grip in your hair, prompting you to lift your head the slightest bit. Before you could turn to ask if she needed to readjust, she’d already pulled down the top of her skimpy nightgown, exposing her full breasts and already hardened nipples.

When you looked at her, your eyes fell to her bare chest for a moment before you squeezed them shut and tried to cover them. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to look,” you apologized frantically. “I- I didn’t know.”

“Shh, it’s okay, moya lyubov,” Wanda cooed, removing your hand from where it covered your eyes and placing her hands on your cheeks. “You want to look, don’t you?”

Her words shocked you, making you open your eyes and meet her tender gaze. “I- I’m confused,” you mumbled, trying to read her expression for even a hint at what was happening. All you saw was adoration and a twinkle in her eyes, so alluring that you had to look away.

When you did, you were staring directly at her breasts. You knew it was wrong, but you felt your mouth begin to water at the sight of them and heat building somewhere much lower. Subconsciously, you licked your lips and Wanda smirked when she noticed. This was too easy.

“I actually think you want to do more than just look, right, detka?” she asked, setting the trap, knowing you would take the bait.

“What do you mean?” you swallowed, unsure of where to look as your eyes flitted between her face and her chest.

“I think you know what I mean, sweetheart. Go ahead, you can touch,” she said sweetly, framing her words just right to make it seem like you’d just asked her yourself if you could touch her.

When you nervously brought a hand up to cup the weight of her breast, she smiled reassuringly. You didn’t notice the smugness behind her smile as you refocused your attention below her neck.

She bit her lip to stifle a moan when your thumb brushed against her straining nipple. She arched her back the slightest bit, pushing her chest closer to your face, your breath hitching in your throat at the action.

“Can I- can I use my mouth?” you asked, your voice almost a whisper.

Wanda had never been more pleased with herself than in that moment. She hadn’t quite expected you to be so bold and ask for such a thing so quickly. She was both proud of herself and proud of you, always so compliant, always so good for her.

“Yes, angel, you can use your mouth.”

When your lips wrapped around her nipple, she bit back a whine at the sensation of your warm mouth around her sensitive bud. You latched on, suckling contentedly and laving your tongue around the stiff peak.

You were surprised when you felt warm, sweet liquid drip into your mouth. You had no idea Wanda could do this, but you couldn’t complain. The first taste of her milk had you hooked immediately, moaning as more spilled onto your waiting tongue.

“You’re doing so good drinking mommy’s milk baby,” Wanda said breathily.

Her words sent a shock straight to your core and you moaned against her flushed skin.

“Oh, someone likes that, hm?”

You were too far gone to respond, your eyelids growing heavy as her breast emptied. You switched to the other one, sucking softer and slower this time, wanting to make it last.

Her fingers threaded through your hair, moving in a steady rhythm matching that of your tongue along the underside of her nipple.

You fell asleep that way, with your mouth on her breast, her hand in your hair, and a smile on your face. It was the best sleep you’d gotten in months.

What happened that night became a routine shortly after. Whenever you were buried deep in research papers and exam flashcards, eyes burning from countless hours of studying, Wanda would be your saving grace. Your stepmom would poke her head into your room, encouraging you to take a break, and you’d wind up laying against her chest with one of her pretty nipples in your mouth and her sweet milk trickling down your throat.

Sometimes she enjoyed messing with you. In her mind, toys were meant to be played with.

One night, she’d asked you if you wanted to watch something with her and when you agreed, she put on your favorite show. It always gave you butterflies when she remembered what you liked to watch, but how could she not? You were the apple of her eye whether you knew it or not.

You expected her to solicit you into sucking her dry, like always, but she didn’t, leaving you feeling lost and confused. You hadn’t realized how much you began to rely on that as a way to de-stress until she wasn’t willingly offering it to you.

She wanted you to ask her for it yourself, to show her that you wanted her. You weren’t sure how to ask for something like that - it still felt wrong to you despite her constant reassurances that it was normal for mommies to take care of their precious angels that way.

Instead of voicing what you wanted, you nuzzled your face against her breasts, hoping she would understand.

“Aw, do you want something sweetheart?” she asked, feigning sympathy so you wouldn’t be able to tell how much she was getting off on your desperation.

“Please,” you mumbled.

“Please what? You have to tell me what you want or I won’t know how to help,” she replied tenderly.

“Can I…” you paused, not knowing how to phrase it. “Taste you? I mean like… are they full?” you asked, glancing down at her chest before meeting her eyes again, her curious look intimidating you by the second until you were unraveling. “I’m sorry, actually, I don’t know why I’m asking you that, I-”

She cut you off with a firm hand grabbing your jaw, silencing you. Her thumb came up to brush against your bottom lip, the sight of you so needy for her making her shiver.

“Of course you can, detka. All you had to do was ask.” And with that she was removing her top and pulling you close, smirking to herself as you latched on and fell asleep in her hold, all of your worries forgotten for the night.

One night, she invited you to go swimming with her, neglecting to mention that she wasn’t wearing a bathing suit under her robe and letting you find that out for yourself when she stood bare before you on the patio. She swayed her hips purposefully as she walked over to the pool, making sure to bend over and give you a delicious view as she stepped into the water.

Unable to get the vivid image of her perfect backside out of your mind, you shook your head and slowly undressed. You, unlike her, had worn a bathing suit and you decided to keep it on as your nerves followed you to the pool.

Sitting on the steps, she welcomed you in, not hesitating to pull you close to her body. With your head leaning against her arm, so close to where you longed to bury your face, you looked up at her and she simply nodded.

Your hot mouth felt amazing against her nipple, cold from the water and the nighttime air. She hummed as you ran your tongue over the bud, trying to stimulate it enough to get your reward. When nothing came out, you sucked harder, your teeth grazing her sensitive flesh and causing her to whimper.

You quickly pulled away. “Sorry,” you blurted out, your eyes wide.

“It’s okay, sweet girl. It felt good,” Wanda cooed, bringing one hand to the back of your head and the other to your hand under the water. She gently pulled your head back to her chest while moving your hand towards her aching center. “Sometimes when you drink mommy’s milk, it makes her feel tingly down here,” she explained, pressing your fingers against her pussy.

You felt the heat radiating from her core, warm and wet with something that wasn’t just the water from the pool. She guided your fingers to slide through her slick folds and you moaned against her breast at the feel of her.

That seemed to sober you up and you pulled back for a moment to speak. “This isn’t right, we’re not supposed to-”

“Quiet, detka,” she snapped coldly. “I told you I’ll always take care of you and do what’s best for you, didn’t I?” You nodded and she softened at that. “That’s right. Don’t you want to make your mommy feel good? It hurts down there.”

You nodded again, murmuring out a “yes mommy” and kissing around her breasts apologetically.

“Good girl,” she praised, making you clench your thighs together.

That night, you filled her up with your fingers while she filled you up with her milk. She came hard against the wall of the pool and you felt pride welling up within you at the beautiful sight of her in ecstasy. When you grew sleepy, she helped you inside, taking you to her room where you fell asleep on her chest.

She looked down at you fondly, knowing without a doubt that she loved you more dearly than she’d ever loved anything in her life. The love she had for your father didn’t even come close to the way she felt about you. Her heart felt whole with the knowledge that you loved her just as much, all on your own.

She may have had to coax it out of you, but flowers don’t grow where seeds aren’t planted. And in her garden, you were her favorite flower.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #stepmom!wanda maximoff #alexa writes #kinktober

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