#Managing partial payments

[invoicetempleapp]

Best Practices for Handling Partial Payments on Invoices

Discover how small business owners can manage partial payments on invoices, including best practices, potential risks, and helpful tools, to improve cash flow and foster positive client relationships.

[mariacallous]

In the span of just weeks, the U.S. government has experienced what may be the most consequential security breach in its history—not through a sophisticated cyberattack or an act of foreign espionage, but through official orders by a billionaire with a poorly defined government role. And the implications for national security are profound.

First, it was reported that people associated with the newly created Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE) had accessed the U.S. Treasury computer system, giving them the ability to collect data on and potentially control the department’s roughly $5.45 trillion in annual federal payments.

Then, we learned that uncleared DOGE personnel had gained access to classified data from the U.S. Agency for International Development, possibly copying it onto their own systems. Next, the Office of Personnel Management—which holds detailed personal data on millions of federal employees, including those with security clearances—was compromised. After that, Medicaid and Medicare records were compromised.

Meanwhile, only partially redacted names of CIA employees were sent over an unclassified email account. DOGE personnel are also reported to be feeding Education Department data into artificial intelligence software, and they have also started working at the Department of Energy.

This story is moving very fast. On Feb. 8, a federal judge blocked the DOGE team from accessing the Treasury Department systems any further. But given that DOGE workers have already copied data and possibly installed and modified software, it’s unclear how this fixes anything.

In any case, breaches of other critical government systems are likely to follow unless federal employees stand firm on the protocols protecting national security.

The systems that DOGE is accessing are not esoteric pieces of our nation’s infrastructure—they are the sinews of government.

For example, the Treasury Department systems contain the technical blueprints for how the federal government moves money, while the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) network contains information on who and what organizations the government employs and contracts with.

What makes this situation unprecedented isn’t just the scope, but also the method of attack. Foreign adversaries typically spend years attempting to penetrate government systems such as these, using stealth to avoid being seen and carefully hiding any tells or tracks. The Chinese government’s 2015 breach of OPM was a significant U.S. security failure, and it illustrated how personnel data could be used to identify intelligence officers and compromise national security.

In this case, external operators with limited experience and minimal oversight are doing their work in plain sight and under massive public scrutiny: gaining the highest levels of administrative access and making changes to the United States’ most sensitive networks, potentially introducing new security vulnerabilities in the process.

But the most alarming aspect isn’t just the access being granted. It’s the systematic dismantling of security measures that would detect and prevent misuse—including standard incident response protocols, auditing, and change-tracking mechanisms—by removing the career officials in charge of those security measures and replacing them with inexperienced operators.

The Treasury’s computer systems have such an impact on national security that they were designed with the same principle that guides nuclear launch protocols: No single person should have unlimited power. Just as launching a nuclear missile requires two separate officers turning their keys simultaneously, making changes to critical financial systems traditionally requires multiple authorized personnel working in concert.

This approach, known as “separation of duties,” isn’t just bureaucratic red tape; it’s a fundamental security principle as old as banking itself. When your local bank processes a large transfer, it requires two different employees to verify the transaction. When a company issues a major financial report, separate teams must review and approve it. These aren’t just formalities—they’re essential safeguards against corruption and error.

These measures have been bypassed or ignored. It’s as if someone found a way to rob Fort Knox by simply declaring that the new official policy is to fire all the guards and allow unescorted visits to the vault.

The implications for national security are staggering. Sen. Ron Wyden said his office had learned that the attackers gained privileges that allow them to modify core programs in Treasury Department computers that verify federal payments, access encrypted keys that secure financial transactions, and alter audit logs that record system changes. Over at OPM, reports indicate that individuals associated with DOGE connected an unauthorized server into the network. They are also reportedly training AI software on all of this sensitive data.

This is much more critical than the initial unauthorized access. These new servers have unknown capabilities and configurations, and there’s no evidence that this new code has gone through any rigorous security testing protocols. The AIs being trained are certainly not secure enough for this kind of data. All are ideal targets for any adversary, foreign or domestic, also seeking access to federal data.

There’s a reason why every modification—hardware or software—to these systems goes through a complex planning process and includes sophisticated access-control mechanisms. The national security crisis is that these systems are now much more vulnerable to dangerous attacks at the same time that the legitimate system administrators trained to protect them have been locked out.

By modifying core systems, the attackers have not only compromised current operations, but have also left behind vulnerabilities that could be exploited in future attacks—giving adversaries such as Russia and China an unprecedented opportunity. These countries have long targeted these systems. And they don’t just want to gather intelligence—they also want to understand how to disrupt these systems in a crisis.

Now, the technical details of how these systems operate, their security protocols, and their vulnerabilities are now potentially exposed to unknown parties without any of the usual safeguards. Instead of having to breach heavily fortified digital walls, these parties  can simply walk through doors that are being propped open—and then erase evidence of their actions.

The security implications span three critical areas.

First, system manipulation: External operators can now modify operations while also altering audit trails that would track their changes. Second, data exposure: Beyond accessing personal information and transaction records, these operators can copy entire system architectures and security configurations—in one case, the technical blueprint of the country’s federal payment infrastructure. Third, and most critically, is the issue of system control: These operators can alter core systems and authentication mechanisms while disabling the very tools designed to detect such changes. This is more than modifying operations; it is modifying the infrastructure that those operations use.

To address these vulnerabilities, three immediate steps are essential. First, unauthorized access must be revoked and proper authentication protocols restored. Next, comprehensive system monitoring and change management must be reinstated—which, given the difficulty of cleaning a compromised system, will likely require a complete system reset. Finally, thorough audits must be conducted of all system changes made during this period.

This is beyond politics—this is a matter of national security. Foreign national intelligence organizations will be quick to take advantage of both the chaos and the new insecurities to steal U.S. data and install backdoors to allow for future access.

Each day of continued unrestricted access makes the eventual recovery more difficult and increases the risk of irreversible damage to these critical systems. While the full impact may take time to assess, these steps represent the minimum necessary actions to begin restoring system integrity and security protocols.

Assuming that anyone in the government still cares.

[severedfromthesource]

Androids and Electric Sheep

Ren is experiencing an unusual bug. Features F resus, M rescuer, CPR, stething, mouth to mouth, internal defibs, sex leading to cardiac arrest, sex acts both with consent and a person who cannot consent. I got too invested in the preamble so I highlighted the moment resus actually starts if you want to skip it.

No matter how advanced technology gets, it’ll only ever be used to fulfill man’s most base desires. Case in point- RN-34678. Or Ren, when the barcodes make my eyes glaze over and I get sick of calling them the number slurry X Tech names absolutely everything. Ren is as sophisticated as they come. Actual artificial intelligence. She makes the predictive text and ‘can’t even draw fingers’ image generating 21st century jokes people passed off as AI look like even more of a waste of time than they had been in those days. They might as well have been Speak n Spells. The collective power of every single basement dwelling crypto whizz kid with miles of wires and burnt up processors and bricked up video cards dedicated to their etherium farms pale in comparison to the computing power it takes to run Ren’s brain for an hour. She understands nearly 6,000 languages. She learns and retains information, consuming nearly 160 TB of memory every 8 hours. The bio-organic lace that makes up the net of her brain is a miracle, with the possibility of infinite memory. She is perfect in every sense of the word.

She is a glorified fuck toy.

The second the first android became commercially available, one of the first markets they hit was sex work. If nothing about late stage capitalism drove you crazy, that would have. Fuck curing cancer, or making androids for the dangerous, back breaking work people wreck their bodies to do, X Tech decided people needed a sex doll with a 100k price tag. The world’s most expensive cum sock. And yeah, alright, maybe I’m just bitter, partially because there’s no way in hell I could ever afford one, even as an android technician. But what a waste. She sits on my examination table, dutifully unzipping her black leather catsuit. Her managers always manage to stick her in something stupid looking, so overblown and sexualized they stop even being sexy at a certain point.

She looks up at me with lilac eyes. Last time they’d been blue. I like this shade better, I think, though I could do without the electric blue bob they have her wearing today. ”Your crash reports say you’ve been throwing error codes whenever a stream donation comes in over 2k,” I say. Which, for a bot like Ren, is quite a lot of her donations. “It’s probably just a bug in payment processing.” I look again over her diagnostics, floating on the screen at my desk. “Any complaints I wouldn’t find in the debug menu?”

”My heart has been feeling strange,” she says. I pause and look at her over the top of my glasses. “Well, firstly, it’s not your heart. An aether pump does not a heart make. Secondly, it shouldn’t feel like anything. You’re supposed to ignore the inner workings, it’s all background programs, runs without you thinking about it.” She shrugs. Her shoulders are pale as she rolls down the catsuit and pulls her arms from the sleeves, bunching up the tight leather around her midriff. Her breasts are small and round, standing upright as pretty as a Botticelli painting. I’d noticed the small bumps on either side of her nipples (Christ, did the things ever go soft? Or were they just always cutting glass?) but didn’t register until I saw them now that her managers had pierced them sometime since our last checkup. Little silver bars were stuck through the pink nubs, with winking silver balls on either end. Alright, cool, chill.

I clear my throat and pull up my rolling stool. “Well, let’s just take a look then.” I shift once I’m seated to alleviate the pressure of my stiffening cock. Listen, I’m not a technophile, honest to God. I go out of my way to filter out androids when I’m scrolling through porn sites because, despite the leaps and bounds we’ve made in technology, the uncanny valley is still a thing. It feels weird getting off to bots. But then there’s Ren. And fuck me if she isn’t the most attractive thing I’ve ever seen. I put a hand on the back of her neck, my thumb resting at the diagnostic mode button hidden just under the edge of her jaw. I feel the soft bump that sinks in when I press. Her lilac eyes flash black with snatches of white text, then roll back to lilac. Damn, she smells like a new car.

I glance back at the monitor, and as I suspected, nothing comes up about the aether pump. It seems in perfect working order. Still, I dig around my box of scrap wires and spare tubing until I find my mostly neglected stethoscope. I don’t often have to use it, but I feel a trill of excitement go up from my stomach to think I get to use it on Ren. I plug up my ears and put a hand on her shoulder, taking the bell of the steth in my other hand. Her breasts rise and fall with the rhythm of her breathing, set to mimic human intervals. The real purpose is to cool down her insides and keep her from overheating, but just like the aether pump and its auditory cues, its designed to mimic humans as closely as possible. After a guy fucks something like Ren, he gets the added benefit of being able to lay next to her and listen to her breathing. Feel her heart beat. Doesn’t matter what the purpose of the design is for, it matters so he doesn’t feel like he’s fucking a 100k fleshlight with arms and legs. I press the steth to a spot above her breast and it sinks into her pillowy soft skin like it was real. Cool it, Christ, you can’t get so hot and bothered over everything. Heel, boy.

But my thumb makes a slight imprint against her tit, and it’s hard to think of anything else. Same thing happens when I press the steth against a space under her breast, and it lays warmly against the back of my hand. The pump, like the fake lungs, is designed to look and act and even sound like a heart, pumping coolant through her body. I tell her it’s not a heart out of some petty, pedantic need to distance myself and my unique humanity, but truth is, the thing is a heart. She could die if something went really wrong with it, and a lot of bots have. Sudden cardiac arrest was one of the main bugs in the 2.3 rollout. It got so bad, tons of models in the service industry had to be recalled, because mechanical line cooks and servers were dropping if the ovens got too hot. My hand still on her neck, I pull her forward and press the bell to her back. Her forehead brushes against my shoulder, her gaudy blue wig draping against the side of my neck and jaw. I tilt my head just enough my nose brushes her hair. Fuck, she really does smell good.

“Well, I don’t hear any irregularities,” I tell her, because I don’t. The thing is pumping liquid aether around her body at around 70 bpm, like it should. She draws up from my shoulder, glancing at me sideways. “It only seems to happen with clients,” she says, drying out my throat in an instant. “Clients?” “Mhm. Whenever one of them climaxes. If they do it inside me, my heart starts going very fast. I get foggy and I can’t think afterwards.” I swallow. “Right,” I say, “I mean… I can’t exactly test that, Ren.” She touches my wrist. “It’s rather frightening, Doc. I worry…” She pauses, and I try very hard not to say out loud what I’m thinking. You shouldn’t be frightened of anything, Ren. You’re not supposed to feel any of this. She sits back, bringing her hand up, her fingers curling against where her pump lies in her chest, half covering her nudity.

She doesn’t want to get recalled. I wince in spite of myself. If she has the same defect others in her rollout had, she’s going right back to X Tech. I push the steth around my neck, scooping back hair from my face. “It’s a pretty fatal system flaw. It… I could… Well, I-“ I can’t look at her. Fuck, I really can’t look at her. My face feels hot. This is the plot of like, 90% of bot R34 on the internet. I might as well be a pizza delivery guy and she a lonely housewife who’s a few bucks short on a large sausage. She ‘breathes’. Her chest goes up and down, the lights winking off her pierced nipples. She’s so goddamn gorgeous.

“Doc?” “Thinking,” I huff. I spare a glance around the other cubicles bordering mine. Big glass offices, designed for this exact stupid fucking thing I’m about to do. The first guy who got caught with his dick in a bot ruined it for everyone, so now my coworkers and I are subjected to rat lab cubicles where we can look in on each other at any given moment. People around us testing reflexes, repairing cosmetic damage, quashing bugs. What I was about to do was also technically debugging, but there was no way in hell my boss was gonna see it that way if he saw my flat ass pumping in and out of a bot worth more than I make in a year on the other side of plexiglass. Alright, cool, chill. I scoop up my backpack with my work laptop and sling it over my shoulder. “Bathroom,” I whisper.

Cut to Ren and I, locked in the women’s bathroom. We have three women in the office, and their cubes are on the other side of the building, closer to another bathroom. This one is usually empty. Cut to her, awkwardly standing in front of a toilet. Me, on the verge of being the Most Fired Man Who Ever Lived. For extra security, I’d stuffed us both into a stall, locking it behind me too. It's cramped, which adds to the feeling this is absolutely not what I'm supposed to be doing. But hey, it's my job, isn't it?

I awkwardly maneuver around her and sit on the toilet lid, hastily undoing my pants. God, this is shameful. And weirdly hot? I can't tell if it's just Ren or the dozen or so corporate regulations and general laws I'm breaking doing this, but I can feel the pulse in my cock, pressing up against the inseam of my jeans. Those lavender eyes flick from my face to the swollen, flushed skin, and the outer rim of her pupils flash with color. I help her roll down the leather catsuit and then, holy shit, Jesus, Mary and Joseph, I’m inside her. She feels real. My hands on her back, my face buried in her tits, her thighs on mine, she feels realer than any woman I had ever known. My breath warms her artificial skin, and the barbell through her nipple is cold, the contrast making me shiver whenever the hot skin of my cheek touches the metal. My fingers slide up her stomach, her hips bucking and pumping me in and out of her. She’s tight. Really fuckin tight. I can feel her aether pump, the artificial heart, throbbing in her inner walls, harder than any real heart I’d ever felt. It adds to every stroke, a thumping sensation that’s nearly making me come after a couple thrusts. Christ, I might as well be sticking my dick right against the chambers of her fake heart.

The job. Right, I’m doing a job. Fuck, I’ve never loved my job so much. “Lemme- ngh, God, fuck- lemme see i-ins-side your ch-est, R-Ren.” She’s straddling my lap, panting like a porn star, her bob swinging back and forth, and she nods. The synthetic skin goes translucent, a dull blue glow that starts at her collarbone and down to the bottom of her ribcage. I spare only a brief chuckle, Man, we never could get rid of those stupid gamer lights, before I try to focus my attention on her inner workings. The aether heart is basically a simplified human one, drawing hot fluid in one side and squeezing out coolant through the other in an eternal ebb and flow. And right now, it’s going insane. The valves are snapping open and closed rapidly, the thing shuddering instead of really beating. There’s a little display window pinned under her collarbone, and it’s clocking her at 150 bpm, the green spikes of her heartbeat saw toothing across the round display port. Not totally dangerous, but as I pump inside of her and she bounces on my thighs to match my quickening pace, it keeps climbing.

Alright. As much as I want to be stuck in here forever, with a beautiful woman bouncing on my dick in a way I’ve only ever dreamed of, I have to figure out what’s wrong. I wrap my arms around her body, pulling her flush against my chest. “Hold onto me, ‘kay?” I breathe against her ear. Her arms slid around me, nails brushing briefly against my shoulder blades. I take in her scent. Focus on the sensations of her body, the sharp cold of her piercings, breasts pressed against my chest, her warm, throbbing cunt. It doesn’t take long. I start to lose the rhythm as my breath shortens, my strokes shortening too, until finally I can take it no more. I come, hot seed filling her up, bathing my cock, spilling out from between our sexes. Her back arches, a cry ripping from her throat of the most exquisite ecstasy.

Then she dies.

No, seriously, the bot quits all at once. I’m there, still trying to enjoy the feeling of my load making her even tighter and full, when she goes completely limp. Her arms slide down from my back, and the artificial pulse I feel in her cunt just stops all at once. She’s dead weight on top of me. “Fuck,” I spit, trying to readjust her, but she’s goddamn heavy. “Ren? Hey, Ren- man, what the fuck-”

I look up at her sternum to see the aether pump has stopped. The little internal monitor is reading a flatline. I fumble to unlatch the bathroom door, my other hand cradling her back, as I awkwardly shift to try and swing it open. Both of us end up in a heap on the floor when I try to pick her up. I'm apologizing to her slack and lifeless face as I disentangle myself and hastily zip up, then lay her flat on her back. Her perfect round breasts sit in the open air, her still heart glowing between them. I set my laptop beside her and hook up a USB into the command port hidden behind her ear.

There was no tip off in her crash reports, but looking now, I can see the absolute mess of code in the last few lines she ran before arresting. I clean up some of the irregularities, get rid of the redundancies, and hit reboot. Two small circular nodes glow within her chest, then snap against the chambers of her heart. Basically built in defib units. Her body jerks, hand twitching in against her cheek, her back arching slightly. Her naked shoulder blades slap against the tile floor as she falls back, limp again. But she doesn't move. Her pump is still. I glance at the monitor and see FATAL SYSTEM ERROR flash across the screen. Fuck, am I going to have to do this manually?

Growling in frustration, I throw my hands against her sternum. It's easy to get the right position when I can see her heart lying beneath a few layers of synthetic skin. Squaring my shoulders, I push down hard. Unlike with real CPR on a real person, depth doesn't matter, nor the risk of breaking ribs. She's basically Wolverine. A hydraulic crusher couldn't break her ribs. They yield though, and bow in against her spine as I rhythmically pump her heart. The force ripples through her whole body. Her stomach pops up, her shoulders shrug in, her head rolls back and forth. I look from her face down to her tits. I can't help it, they're swaying with each compression, the light catching her piercings. I can feel the cool metal rest against my fingers. The position my hands are in leaves my fingertip pressing against her nipple, still standing upright from our exercise. A shiver runs through me. Am I seriously getting hard again? It's hard not to. My eyes drink in her still body, the remnants of our session dribbling down her thigh, her breasts bouncing like they had when she was riding me.

I can almost see the corner of the screen light up with “Kink Unlocked: Reviving Dead Girls”. I glance at the monitor and see the reboot option has lit up again. When I take my hands away from her chest, I see her aether pump jerking as if trying to start again. Once more I charge the internal defibrillators. While they hum to life, I partake in a ritual that isn't strictly necessary. The hero always gets to indulge in mouth to mouth with the downed heroine. She doesn't actually need air, but her lips are slack, full and inviting. I press mine over hers, breathing air she doesn't need into her mouth. I can feel her cheeks puff, and I'm surprised but excited to see her chest rises too. I give her a few quick bursts of oxygen. Her chest jerks up and I only allow it to fall part way before I give her another, making her chest rise and fall in short hyperventilations. My hand finds itself running up her stomach to feel the motion of my breaths, up over her breast again. It fills my palm as I breathe a long, slow draft into her throat, and I roll her nipple between my fingers. She sighs out recycled air against my face when I break the seal of our lips.

Man, how do EMTs not cum when they resuscitate hot girls? The whole tableau is so erotic, I can feel my pulse once more jerk in my cock. The defibs once more slap the chambers of her artificial heart and she thrashes under the current. Her breasts sway and she again falls limp to the tiles.

“Come on, Ren,” I say under my breath, watching her aether pump swelling at uneven intervals. The chambers aren't beating right still, snapping open and closed out of sync with one another. I again check her code on my laptop, using one hand to tap through my options. The other I lay against her sternum. It occurs to me I really don't know what the fuck I'm doing. Whatever feels like it helps, I guess. Or whatever feels good. I grind my heel in against her heart in slow, rhythmic compressions with one hand. “Come on, work with me here. Breathe for me. Do something, at least let me know you're not completely bricked.” The idea that she might be makes me swallow hard. I like Ren. I don't want to ship her off to the junkyard as much as she doesn't want to be shipped.

When her heart goes still again I lace my fingers together and start pumping her chest anew. I forget my laptop entirely- this isn't a software issue, it's the hardware in her chest acting up. If I can just get the damn thing to reset. Swinging my leg over her supple thighs, I straddle her so I can use my whole body. Like this, I can feel the motion my work creates in her otherwise still body. Each powerful thrust against her pump rolls the kinetic force through her whole body. Her feet swing back and forth. The force rolls from her chest, down her stomach, even rippling her thighs. Each compression makes her stomach roll out, only now I can feel it between my legs.

Fuck it, I'm already fired. These life saving efforts have got me hard all over again, something I would have thought impossible. I unzip and thrust into her almost in one motion. It's next to impossible to actually pump into her while I'm working her heart, so I mostly settle for letting her body rock into me while I do CPR. Only when the prompt for the defibrillator pops up again do I allow myself to roll my hips into her while it charges. The thing whines quietly as I brace my hand against her chest, driving my cock deep inside her. It slaps her heart again and she arches her back, filling my hand against her sternum. Her inner walls clench with the electricity and I groan as I roll in and out of her. That's when she draws in a breath and moans all at once. Her eyes flutter open and she instinctively begins to grind her hips in rhythm with me. Before long I'm filling her up all over again and I collapse on top of her. She's back. The thought strikes me as I look down and see her aether pump snapping out a normal, if elevated rhythm. I roll off onto the welcome chill of the tile floors, my arm still slung around her.

“You okay?” I pant, my eyes half lidded as I look at her. Ren nods, smiling weakly in return. Then she’s wrapping her arms around me, burying her face in my shoulder. I hesitate, the shame of what I had done to her when she was basically dead starting to creep up now that the high is waning. But eventually I slide my arms around her in return, drawing her close to my body. “Thank you, doc,” she whispers.

“Don't mention it.” Seriously, don't mention any of this.

[sunny-day-jack-official]

Dear Fans of SnaccPop Studios,

We recognize that many of you have questions about SnaccPop Studios and recent events. We want to provide clarity, particularly in relation to personal relationships among colleagues, our fans, workplace ethics and defamation.

First, we need to clear up allegations about our team's payments. Previous leadership had poor communication and time management skills, which caused contractor payments to be delayed. Inadequate management prompted us to make managerial changes over the summer. Under new management, recent delays occurred because we needed to wait for state and federal approvals, transfer managerial revenue, and draft new contracts which team members were made aware of. Additionally, we faced defamatory accusations regarding two team members crowdfunding efforts for housing and cancer treatment. These accusations falsely implied that we had not paid them, which led some individuals to demand that we use our Patreon and Kickstarter funds to cover their expenses in full. SnaccPop Studios operates as a zero-profit entity and cannot cover anything beyond production costs.

Some team members shared partial work-related information with their friends and associates. These friends and associates, without having the full context and knowledge, made incorrect assumptions and drew premature conclusions about our workplace practices. Certain individuals spread misinformation and lies in private group chats and servers based on what our team members said to them in confidence. Some of these individuals in these group chats and servers were also mutual friends of JambeeBot. These individuals believed that defamation, humiliation, and isolation were justifiable punishments for JambeeBot, and by extension SnaccPop Studios, for not releasing Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack on its intended release date. Ultimately, these actions led to JambeeBot posting a mental health crisis note on Twitter (X). These events have left our team members feeling demoralized, dehumanized, betrayed, and deeply hurt. We ask those reading this not to seek out these individuals. If they reveal themselves and publicly apologize, we urge you not to respond with harassment or threats.

The actions of these individuals have caused our team members to feel anxious, fearful, and saddened around our projects. Some team members have even considered leaving SnaccPop Studios and creative work altogether. It is deeply disheartening to see the extent to which some individuals have gone to hurt others over a game. No project, media, franchise, or character should be so central to someone's identity, self-worth, or emotional stability that it justifies harming others. Creative projects are meant to bring joy, entertainment, and connection—these individuals tainted that by turning a source of delight and fun into anguish and dread. Their actions have undermined the creative spirit that fuels these projects, making it harder for us to feel safe, inspired, and excited to continue the work we love.

We urge everyone to reflect on how they engage with creators, projects, and fandom spaces. Respect, empathy, and understanding are essential to maintaining a supportive and collaborative environment. Our team members should not fear humiliation, isolation, and defamation due to release delays, creative directions, or unforeseen production challenges. We ask for your understanding and respect as we work to maintain our boundaries and focus on moving forward.

Finally, we want to kindly inform our audience that the absence of a production update simply means there are no new or significant developments to report currently. Rest assured; we will communicate any important updates as soon as they become available. Speculation and rumors during periods of silence add unnecessary stress and hinder our ability to focus on creating content. We respectfully ask that you refrain from making potentially defamatory assumptions when updates are delayed.

Sincerely,

The SnaccPop Studios Team

[thecaptainofcosmichorrors]

Ooh assassin reader sounds interesting! How about assassin!reader who's a double agent, hired to crumble the Deceit Trio, but the more they spend time with them, the harder it is to go through with their duty? 🤔 It would be cute if there's found family with Candy Apple and Shadow Milk.

With Black Sapphire, they start to develop feelings for each other... Then for angst, maybe Black Sapphire finds out the truth about their double-crossing. But during a battle, reader takes a critical hit for Black Sapphire, lying in his arms, proving that they did love him 💔 (It's up to you if reader survives. And if Black Sapphire gets angry, protecting/taking revenge for the one he loves ��) ~ 🌌 Anon

Black Sapphire x Assassin! Reader

Tw/notes: Reader is an assassin, and slightly touches on their moral grayness in the beginning-ish; I tried (???) not to get into too heavy of gore, but I’m just putting a warning now for like blood/jam and violence—I follow cookie laws though; You have a fake alias, though I don’t give you a name and only referred to you as reader once in story; Hmm… I guess I also despise formatting?

It was supposed to be a simple mission, well, relatively. You skimmed through the briefing, before your attention shifted elsewhere; photos—or lack there of. They really expected you to go in essentially blind? You tucked away the Intel, a sigh following not too far behind; if any of the cookies would give you trouble, it would be the literal beast of deceit—your portfolio consisted of you acting as cleanup, bounty here and there. Nothing so… stealthy? You were sure if you played your cards right, you’d manage; but a slip up could just as easily lead to your crumbling.

The payout was nothing to scoff at though, guaranteeing an early ‘retirement’ from the job; maybe take a few on the side if you became restless? Digging back in the file, your eyes drifted to Black Sapphire’s description; head resting on your hand as you mulled it over, he seemed reasonable enough—well, as much as a minion of Shadow Milk could be.

Black Sapphire sensed something about you the moment you two locked eyes during one of his shows, your gaze watchful. It pulls him in more than he cared to admit, so he began targeting you—not that you minded. You humored him with a secret or two, distant little lies that you had no quorum with disclosing; after all, it would be no time before he would be nothing but crumbs.

A few turns into many, and before you know it, you’re far closer to your goal than you had ever expected so soon. Candy Apple cookie was next on the pecking order, yet you shifted oddly at her antics; what could be assumed to you not being used to them, but in reality was you questioning the legitimacy of this mission of yours—this is why you didn’t ask questions. A job’s a job though, you surely be worse off backing out now; all the time you’ve spent and all. One partial payment later and your apprehension was nothing but a fleeting gust of wind.

Candy Apple was an interesting little cookie, it took longer than you expected—yet not no time at all to get acquaintance with her and very enthusiastic about their master. Though she grows on you like sap, each of her words sticking to you before you become hopelessly… whatever you feel for her. You feel reluctant to call it fondness, but you tolerate her; at least for now, you couldn’t allow yourself to grow too comfortable—it would jeopardize your entire operation, plus there’s no gain in making it unnecessarily messy.

Shadow Milk Cookie was last, and predictably, your biggest hurdle. It felt like he could see you, pick apart your slowly developing conscience—see you for exactly what you weren’t. Somehow you stayed steadfast your mission, ‘admitting’ that you wanted to join him; become one of his minions. In your defense, you aren’t lying per se, just not transparent to why. You was, ironically enough, saved by Black Sapphire sharing some Intel with his master.

Though that was certainly not the last that you would see him.

Though you don’t pay it much mind, you’ve already infiltrated his operation; nuzzling yourself deep into the heart of operation, it was only a matter of time. Though, time and time again, you let opportunity after opportunity pass you up—it wasn’t the perfect one, so why does it matter? As time went on this, ‘waiting for the perfect opportunity’ soon seems like a ploy for what was really going on; you were starting to get too emotionally invest. Weeks turned into months and the only thing that seem to progress was your employer’s pressure to follow through on your end of the bargain. Your priorities was an absolute shambles: Candy Apple Cookie had essentially become your younger sibling, what initially started as you just grinning and bearing her ramblings soon became genuinely intrigue on her thoughts and opinions. She knew just how to pull you in before revealing her true intent, but you’ve grown to be endeared rather than troubled by it.

Shadow Milk cookie felt less like your master and more a guiding figure? He was not soft though, at the end of day he was still a beast. Something that could be often forgotten in the quiet moments; through endless stream of lies and theatrical declarations of glee for your loyalty, quiet truths became more apparent. Shadow Milk would never explicitly say how he felt about any of you, but it would show through actions that you had learn to appreciate: a new outfit that seem to be made by hand, your own room in the spire—a home. You’ve seen the spire more times than you can count, its seemingly endless halls becoming a constant in your life… similarly to Black Sapphire cookie…

Where could you even begin with that?

At first you were set in your ways; how could you possibly swoon for him—a bounty waiting to be cashed in. There was no place in your world for that, it would be for the best you kept away… but you soon grow softer, as time does wear down even the sharpest of rocks. Lies and half-truths seemed more honest nowadays, fleeting touch setting your senses ablaze; you were absolutely hooked and it seemed as if you weren’t the only one. Your pesky conscience never dare to let you forget what you have done if everything had played out as it was supposed to, what you were capable of if only you hadn’t grown soft. Despite this, you still try to dilute yourself; desperately convincing yourself this mission was still somehow possible, but you knew the truth. It was compromise the second you became one of deceit’s followers.

And even if it was still possible, would you be able to actually go through with it? It was maddening; every other assignment slid your way was cut and dry, minimum to no interaction with the unlucky soul to caught your crosshair. Then get paid, and moved on with your day—keeping your personal life completely separate from your job. Now work and personal soon became one and the same, lines blurred to where one started and one began. Soon your attempts were hardly even attempts anymore, allowing you to justify waiting further to yourself; how much longer could you lie to yourself before the truth came rearing its ugly head?

The answer came in the form of a meeting, the three of you traded stories of things you had learned throughout the day; ever the busy cookies. Black Sapphire and Candy Apple had somehow started bickering over Witches knows what, as siblings do. Still, you watched with something akin to amusement, that was your tipping point. You decided to have mercy on yourself and put the senseless torment to rest—you couldn’t continue further. Yes, the repercussions would be suck and there would be a real chance you were practically begging for someone to have a target on your back, but you could live with that. Just because you couldn’t follow through this assignment, did not mean that you were without the skill set needed to deal with any cookies sent your way.

What you were not prepared for was Black Sapphire learning of the truth; it was your fault, you’ve grown sloppy, and had allowed your things to be sprawled out to your desk. It had been so long since you had visited your own home, and that you had completely forgotten the state you left it in… so much so when you had left him to his own devices to grab something, his attention wandered.

“Oh, well hello there reader.” You stiffened, just a moment, a second too long. You were sure that he had noticed, the radio host seem to have a knack for that—and yet still you tried to feign ignorance; you’ve had no idea who he was talking about, not once said he called you your actual name. The sound of it felt wrong, or maybe it had been too long since you had heard someone actually use it. “Ahh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” he quipped, grip tightening around his mic. “My, and after everything, this is how you repay us hm?” You turn to explain yourself, apologize for the oversight; the second you met his gaze, you had realize your misstep. “Oh so you do hear me? Fantastic.”

Oh Great.

You backtracked, playing through his words, as if to find anything to hook onto to de-escalate, just long enough to as to reach him. “Look, I may—“ Black Sapphire stopped you with a scoff, pure astonishment at the notion of you thinking you could just talk your way out of this. “There’s no point playing dumb now, your eyes alone tell me all I need to know.” he snaps, stepping forward to reveal that he had the file the entire time; witches. “Riddle me this, did you have any intention on over revealing this little secret of yours?” For moment, something flickered in his gaze—a twinge of hurt that made your heart ache as you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze. “Or were those sweet words of yours just a cover-up to knock me off the trail?”

You made no attempts to see to it that he had left, just standing idly with the file in hand; it would only be a matter of time before the others knew, though, maybe this was for the best. So, you tried to move on with your life—catch up on the jobs you postponed in favor of your last.

What you didn’t expect to see after finishing one of your latest task was a scout; while normally you kept to yourself, best not to interrupt one of your ‘peers’—something about them made your dough crawl. After a short back-and-forth, you decide to trail them for a bit; to ease your mind, of course! You stopped a little ways from them at the sight of two more cookies joining, before into where… Black Sapphire hosts his broadcast… oh. In hindsight you should’ve seen this coming; just because you weren’t able to, didn’t just suddenly stop your employer from wanting them gone… plus last time you checked, your former employer was not pleased with you for backing out.

You sighed as you looked at your arsenal, you vs three assassins and all you had to your name was a blade? This will surely be fun. Under the blanket of darkness night brought, you stalked through the building; on your scope out, a fourth cookie caught your eye—probably another scout, though two scouts for this? absurd. Not that it mattered. Soon they went off in pairs, heading in opposite direction.

It was relatively dark in the building, most had left for the night, the perfect environment for a job: quiet, few eyes and ample places to hide. The cookies acting as back up for the main two needed them. Though two seem to bicker as they moved lackadaisically through the lower level. The larger cookie was unimpressed by his peer’s complaining, quick to grab his red walkie-talkie to further learn of the status of the mission; eager to shut the scout up. The scout however, insisted on complaining endlessly about how pointlessness of having them all there, especially for one measly cookie. Finally he lost steam, pausing only to be met with silence from their peer; that wasn’t right. He soon called out to his partner when they failed to be behind him either, irritation evident before it faded away to make room for… unease.

…

You made your way in the direction of the other group, a red walkie-talkie in hand; three to go. You could handle that scout later, for now they were bigger fish to catch. Picking up the pace, it was up the stairs and down the hall where soon commotion could be heard.

You almost felt obligated to give Black Sapphire credit, he held his own fairly well even with assassin’s element of surprise. Though you couldn’t allow yourself to just sit and watch him quite literally fight for his life, so you jumped into the fray, surprising, all in the room—though you worked best that way. It was just enough for the two of you to make quick work of both assailants, sustaining minimal injuries.

When the dust settled, a question that seem to linger in the air. Why were you here? You were all too keen on disappearing after such a grand reveal; and then suddenly, when you did returned, there he was fighting for his life on the way out? Hardly felt like a coincidence. As much as you hated that assumption, he wasn’t wrong. So you did your best to clear your name then and there, unbeknownst to you, the scout had made his way up while you two were caught in your own little world. It didn’t take a genius to piece together what had happened, with the jam and crumbs that littered the ground. By the time you caught the movement, there was only a split second to act. You pushed the radio host out the way, taking the hit.

Launching yourself at your fellow assassin, the two of you tussled; neither one of you having the chance to get a good enough window to end it before you found the ground slip from beneath you. Ah, right. The stairs.

The two of you tumbled before a loud bang could be heard at the bottom before a clink soon followed. It felt like an eternity of silence, only interrupted by rapid steps as Black Sapphire rushed down. For a while, all was still as neither of you got up. Thankfully, you shakily sat up; glancing up to see Black Sapphire in the now lit up stairwell, he looked so pretty up there. Though you questioned what had the cookie so stunned; looking down, you found the culprit. Cookie and jam mixed all over you, bathing you in crimson. Your head tilted lazily as you took in your leg, it looked funny; though you couldn’t fully laugh, breathing being harder than you remembered—somewhere on your chest pulsing lightly. You couldn’t feel much though.

You looked back at him before giving him a shaky smile—You started to fall backwards when all of a sudden, you felt Black Sapphire cradle you in his arms. “… S..sorry for. The mess.” You croaked, trying your best to keep your eyes on him; you saw that his mouth was moving, but his words struggled to reach you. Despite the dryness in your throat, words flowed from your mouth as you aired out your thoughts—not that it was coherent. It shifted from endless apologies to incomplete thoughts on something minor at the drop of a hat. As you talked, you could’ve sworn you feel little drops hit your face; though the thought left you just as quickly as it came in favor murmuring a soft “I love you”, nuzzling yourself closer to Black Sapphire’s fleeting warmth… Maybe you should just… close your eyes, you could tell Black Sapphire everything later… yeah… that sounded like a good plan…

Your eyes fluttered open to be met with… eyes? You were quick to sit up, well, at least try to; pain surge through your body as you flopped back down, a hiss forcing its way out your throat. You stared at what you could to see that you were bandaged and in new clothing? You ran your fingers along the soft shirt that loosely covered your frame, before looking around to see you were… in your, no, the spire? How did you get here? What happened to—

Light breathing interrupted your thoughts, looking to your side, you saw Black Sapphire asleep in a chair right next to the bed. The longer thought on it, you began to piece together what got you here; so after the fall, it become blurry—your head lightly pulsing as you tried to wrap your head around it. Seeing that was going nowhere, you dropped it for the time being in favor of trying to reach out to tap Black Sapphire; your voice hoarse. Eventually you got him, Black Sapphire Cookie jotting at the sudden contact.

His eyes flicker toward you, before a wave of relief washed over him at the sight of you; not even giving you the chance to get a word in before suddenly, you were pulled into a gentle embrace. The two of you stayed like that for a while, long overdue for each other’s company. When Black Sapphire did pull away, he was quick to fly into a tirade how stupid that was. “What were you thinking!?” He snapped. “Smart cookies don’t throw themselves down a flight of stairs, not after being shot no less!” Black Sapphire massaged the bridge of his nose as he continued, soothing probably the start of a headache. “I mean, come on! You out cold for like three days.” Now THAT caught your attention. “three d—“ Black Sapphire didn’t even let you finish before he flew into another rant, his annoyance exacerbated by you feeling the need to speak when you sounded horrid.

You didn’t take it to heart though, instead you let him air out all his frustration; wings twitching, now out of irritation or stress? You weren’t too sure if it made much of a difference. Eventually he tired, sighed before looking at you. You seem to find the entire situation amusing; a sign of a fool in the making, and yet he still stuck around—only getting up to grab a drink so then you could, as he puts it, ‘stop sounding as if you were dying fish’.

The day soon was spent being visited by both Candy Apple and Shadow Milk cookie; Candy Apple initially pouted at the sight of you, your betrayal was certainly not lost on her. Not that you expected anything less from the young cookie. You apologized and assured her that you did, in fact, enjoy talking and scheming with her; just when you thought that wouldn’t be enough, she sprung back to life—relishing in the opportunity to tease about her brother, saying that he was in shambles and looked like an kicked cake hound while you were sleep. Black Sapphire was quick to denounce such a blatant lie, though she seems undeterred and you have reason to see some truth in her story.

Shadow Milk was the one to actually dressed your wounds, you also had a sneaking suspicion he was the corporate behind how you recovered after such heavy jam loss; though you were sure that he would never outright admitted it. He did interrogated you of course, but it lacked the whimsy of his normal speech—eerie silent as you responded, only the occasional gland your way, as if to read you page by page. You did apologize though, that is what caused him to mock you for your sappiness; a breath of fresh air as your attention shifted back to watching your master finish up the last of your new bandaging.

Throughout your first day awake, Black Sapphire seem determined to stay by your side; even when he had step out, he never truly left. Hovering just off stage, anticipating. Soon night had ‘fallen’ upon the spire, not that your master truly needed rest—Candy Apple on the other hand was probably fast asleep, leaving you and Black Sapphire alone for the time being. “Did you truly mean what you said?” You blinked. What? You turned to him, staring at him in hopes he’d repeat that just one more time; though he was certain that you heard him. After a moment, you proved him right. “… What did I say?” A lot, so much so that he had half of mind to air out all your business; from secrets he already knew to your feelings on the matter of your falling out, he could absolutely lay you out bare—he had the information too, though that silly little heart of his seemed much too preoccupied for that. “That you loved me.”

There was a moment of silence that fell between you two, brief if not heavy. Black Sapphire watched you closely; curious to see if you would retract your statement now that you were—“Yes, I do love you.” Straight to the point, no fanfare; easy as breathing. He hummed, leaving you to question what he would do with this information. Black Sapphire didn’t leave you waiting for long before pulling your face in for a kiss, briefly melting into it; though you imagined, you weren’t doing any better. “Then I suppose all is forgiven.” He murmured, the slightest bit breathless. “But not forgotten?” You quipped, earning a glare from the radio host. “Absolutely not.”

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

+

Call it by its name: A coup.

February 1, 2025

Robert B. Hubbell

On Friday, January 31, 2025, Trump moved to complete the coup he began on January 6, 2021. Trump failed the first time, and he will fail again—because he has underestimated the American people. We must steel ourselves because things will get worse before they get better--but they will get better. It is a fool’s bet to assume that the American people will sit idly by as their freedoms are stolen by a corrupt oligarch and a convicted felon destroying the government to promote their selfish interests.

Speaking the truth about what is happening is difficult and unpleasant. Hearing the truth is also difficult and unpleasant. But the longer we fail to recognize the current situation for what it is—a slow-rolling coup attempt—the longer it will take for us to recover.

I know this is a challenging time and that many readers are outraged, fearful, and dispirited. Join me in community on Saturday morning at 9am Pacific / 12 Noon Eastern on the Substack App for a livestream discussion. There is no link; just open the app at the scheduled time, and you will receive a notification that I am going live on Substack. I will send an email reminder 15 minutes in advance.

I am speaking more directly and using stronger words to describe the situation than many of the mainstream media outlets. CBS, CNN, and NYT are reporting on bits and pieces of Trump's actions as if they are mere political stories. But those outlets are not addressing the obvious coordinated nature of the unprecedented attacks on the DOJ, FBI, Office of Personnel Management, Treasury Department, and dozens of other agencies.

Taken together, those actions amount to a hostile takeover of the US government by those who are loyal to Trump rather than to the US Constitution. The only word that accurately describes that situation is “coup.” Any other description is a sign of fear, submission, or surrender.

Usually, coups occur between political adversaries competing for control of the government. Here, the coup is an effort by Trump to overthrow the Constitution and establish himself as the unbounded dictator of the United States. The only word that accurately describes that situation is “coup.” Any other description is a sign of fear, submission, or surrender.

Fortunately, many independent political commentators are raising the alarm in ways the legacy media is not. BlueSky has become an indispensable source of resistance and information. Facebook is also emerging as a source of statements and leaks by government insiders.

To the extent you can, amplify those voices and add your own to the swelling chorus of alarm and indignation that will eventually stop Trump's unfolding coup. We stopped Trump's initial attempt to “freeze” grants and loans, and we can do it again.

Here is a partial list of what is happening:

Elon Musk and a team of DOGE infiltrators have taken over the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) by connecting non-government computer servers to the US personnel mainframe computers. They have reportedly seized private information about millions of federal employees. They have locked the senior managers of the OPM out of their agency’s computers. They have moved “sofa beds” into the OPM offices and put the offices into a “lockdown mode.” See Reuters, Exclusive: Musk aides lock government workers out of computer systems at US agency, sources say.

The hostile takeover of OMP allowed Musk to send an unauthorized memo inviting millions of federal employees to resign in exchange for eight months of “non working paid employment.” [Two unions representing federal workers have filed a lawsuit challenging Trump's plan to reclassify and terminate hundreds of thousands of federal workers.]

Elon Musk and a team of DOGE infiltrators have attempted to seize control of the US Treasury payments system—the gateway through which ALL funds from the federal government flow. When a senior manager at the Treasury asked why Musk needed access to the highly sensitive system, the manager was immediately placed on leave. He chose to quit, instead. See The New Republic, Top Official to Quit as Musk Tries to Get Hands on Key Payment System

As of Friday evening, the Acting US Attorney for Washington, D.C., fired about 30 US Attorneys who prosecuted January 6 insurrectionists. See Politico, DOJ fires dozens of prosecutors who handled Jan. 6 cases. Think about that for a moment: The convicted felons who attacked the Capitol have been pardoned and the loyal servants of the Constitution who prosecuted them have been fired. That fact should outrage every American.

Also on Friday evening, the FBI told eight of its most senior leaders to resign or be fired on Monday. Those senior officials head divisions of the DOJ responsible for cybersecurity, national security, and criminal investigations. Senior FBI leaders ordered to retire, resign or be fired by Monday | CNN Politics

The FBI has fired dozens of agents who worked on investigations of January 6 insurrectionists and has asked for a list of every agent across the US who worked on the largest criminal investigation in the history of the FBI. That list will include hundreds—possibly thousands of FBI agents. The implication of the memo ordering the compilation of the list is that those agents may be fired. See Reuters, Trump's DOJ launches purge of Jan. 6 prosecutors, FBI agents.

Also on Friday, the FBI told the senior agents in charge of field offices in Miami, Philadelphia, Washington, New Orleans, Las Vegas, and Los Angeles to resign or be fired on Monday. Reuters.

Readers alerted me to postings on Facebook and elsewhere (that I cannot authenticate) claiming to be from current government employees describing an atmosphere of chaos and fear as DOGE infiltrators ominously demand lists of employees who are apparently “next” to be fired.

Dozens of government websites were taken offline on Friday, ostensibly to be scrubbed for references to diversity, gender, or human attributes that are not white, male, and Christian. The effort was brutish, clumsy, and ignorant. The Census Bureau website was offline as DOGE infiltrators attempted to remove references to the fact that America includes people who are not white male Christians. Websites relating to LGBTQ equality, women’s health, transgender issues, and scientific knowledge in general were taken down.

The Pentagon has advised NBC, NYT, NPR, and other mainstream media outlets that they would be “rotated out of the building (i.e., the Pentagon)” to make room for NYPost, Brietbart, and OANN. See @DefenseBaron.bsky.social.

And as all of the above is happening, Republicans in the Senate will vote to confirm a Director of National Intelligence with suspiciously warm views toward Putin and an FBI Director who published an “enemies list” that included dozens of politicians, journalists, military officers, and career government officials.

Oh, and the Republican Party is facilitating the rolling coup. No, that’s not quite right. They are cheering it on.

As with the freeze on grants and loans, it will take a few days for the American public to understand the implications of what is happening. It is up to us to help spread the word.

What can we do? Here’s what we can do: Trump's rolling coup is (mistakenly) predicated on his belief that the American people are sheep. He believes that we will sit still while he does whatever he wants.

He is wrong.

America is based on the consent of the governed, and its economic health requires the cooperation of the participants in the economy. If Americans withhold their political consent and economic cooperation, both the political and financial systems in America will grind to a halt.

What does withholding consent and cooperation look like? That is difficult to predict given the fluid situation, but the citizens of other nations that have grappled with similar challenges have used sustained and massive street protests, national work strikes, work slowdowns, taxpayer strikes, business boycotts, and transportation boycotts. To be clear, I am simply making an observation about how aspiring dictators in other countries have been brought to heel and held to account.

Soon, very soon, Americans will be called upon to leave the comfort of their homes and the anonymity of their computer screens to engage in massive, coordinated action to remind Trump and Musk that they are servants of the people, not vice-versa.

Coda: Trump announced 25% tariffs on goods from Mexico and Canada. As one Canadian official noted on Friday, the Canadian auto industry—which is a major parts supplier to the US auto industry—cannot survive for a week with 25% tariffs. The Canadian supply chain will shut down, the American car industry will be severely damaged, and tens of thousands of US autoworkers will be laid off. We aren’t talking about inflation increasing or the cost of eggs. We are talking about tens of thousands of job losses and an economic shock likely to lead to a recession.

The point is that Trump's anti-democratic blitz is occurring in an environment in which he is making the stupidest economic moves made by any president since Herbert Hoover. That background will provide fertile soil for massive action by Americans who are fed up with Trump and Musk acting like dictators.

I believe in the strength and resiliency of the American people. It may take longer than some of us would like, but they will awaken, like the sleeping giant that German spies warned Hitler about on the eve of WWII.

I understand those who are frustrated and angry over the seeming flat-footed response of Democratic leadership. But complaining is not a strategy. Issue spotting is not a strategy. Assigning blame is not a strategy. Taking action is a strategy. Spreading the truth is a strategy. Making the daily phone calls recommended by Jessica Craven is a strategy.

So, to the extent you can, direct all your anxious energy and anger toward action. The first time you learn of a protest march near you, show up. And the next time. And the time after that. In many nations, small protest marches gain momentum in a matter of weeks.

I will talk to you tomorrow. Join me at 9 am PST / 12 noon EST on Substack

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[harrison-armory-incorporated]

11/25/5016u

Yesterday, one of our most prized ships was savagely attacked while conducting important maintenance checks during the transport of sensitive research materials by the moon of Bari 4M91. Deep Space Freighter EREBUS was heavily damaged and partially destroyed by forces aligning themselves with @corsair-mc-official , these vile mercenaries killed many good men and women who were doing nothing but repairing systems and making sure that surveys and important samples mined from a nearby asteroid field made it back home safely - Many of the people who had died had families back on their home planets, who will now have to live without husbands, wives, partners, some without parents. In a truly disgraceful attempt at complete destruction, the mercenaries detonated a dirty-bomb placed by them inside the ship, managing to kill the entirety of the security forces commanded by Major Silas Rhodes and Lieutenant Lydia Jensen, who were not prepared nor equipped to face such a vile attack at their forces. These security forces had merely a handful of mechanized chassis equipped for anti-piracy defense operations and only a few dozen subaltern squads for routine sentry and patrol duties. Harrison Armory hereby demands full reparations, seeking two-hundred-and-fifty thousand (250,000) units of Manna for distribution among affected families and an additional three-hundred thousand (300,000) units of Manna in reparations for the destruction of company property and important mineral research data from the CORSAIR Mercenary Company. If this payment is not met within two (2) Cradle Cycles; There will be Consequences. [Several images are attached to the statement, depicting a brutal aftermath of a clearly unfair battle; Bodies of researchers and inadequately armed security subalterns litter the images alongside wanton destruction of things like life-support systems and safety equipment. Several videos of the engagement are attached as well, recorded by security subalterns.]

[zoeflake]

CALL IT BY ITS NAME: A COUP -and it's happening now.

An excerpt: "Here is a partial list of what is happening:

Elon Musk and a team of DOGE infiltrators have taken over the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) by connecting non-government computer servers to the US personnel mainframe computers. They have reportedly seized private information about millions of federal employees. They have locked the senior managers of the OPM out of their agency’s computers. They have moved “sofa beds” into the OPM offices and put the offices into a “lockdown mode.” See Reuters, Exclusive: Musk aides lock government workers out of computer systems at US agency, sources say.

The hostile takeover of OMP allowed Musk to send an unauthorized memo inviting millions of federal employees to resign in exchange for eight months of “non working paid employment.” [Two unions representing federal workers have filed a lawsuit challenging Trump's plan to reclassify and terminate hundreds of thousands of federal workers.]

Elon Musk and a team of DOGE infiltrators have attempted to seize control of the US Treasury payments system—the gateway through which ALL funds from the federal government flow. When a senior manager at the Treasury asked why Musk needed access to the highly sensitive system, the manager was immediately placed on leave. He chose to quit, instead. See The New Republic, Top Official to Quit as Musk Tries to Get Hands on Key Payment System

As of Friday evening, the Acting US Attorney for Washington, D.C., fired about 30 US Attorneys who prosecuted January 6 insurrectionists. See Politico, DOJ fires dozens of prosecutors who handled Jan. 6 cases. Think about that for a moment: The convicted felons who attacked the Capitol have been pardoned and the loyal servants of the Constitution who prosecuted them have been fired. That fact should outrage every American.

Also on Friday evening, the FBI told eight of its most senior leaders to resign or be fired on Monday. Those senior officials head divisions of the DOJ responsible for cybersecurity, national security, and criminal investigations. Senior FBI leaders ordered to retire, resign or be fired by Monday | CNN Politics

The FBI has fired dozens of agents who worked on investigations of January 6 insurrectionists and has asked for a list of every agent across the US who worked on the largest criminal investigation in the history of the FBI. That list will include hundreds—possibly thousands of FBI agents. The implication of the memo ordering the compilation of the list is that those agents may be fired. See Reuters, Trump's DOJ launches purge of Jan. 6 prosecutors, FBI agents.

Also on Friday, the FBI told the senior agents in charge of field offices in Miami, Philadelphia, Washington, New Orleans, Las Vegas, and Los Angeles to resign or be fired on Monday. Reuters.

Readers alerted me to postings on Facebook and elsewhere (that I cannot authenticate) claiming to be from current government employees describing an atmosphere of chaos and fear as DOGE infiltrators ominously demand lists of employees who are apparently “next” to be fired.

Dozens of government websites were taken offline on Friday, ostensibly to be scrubbed for references to diversity, gender, or human attributes that are not white, male, and Christian. The effort was brutish, clumsy, and ignorant. The Census Bureau website was offline as DOGE infiltrators attempted to remove references to the fact that America includes people who are not white male Christians. Websites relating to LGBTQ equality, women’s health, transgender issues, and scientific knowledge in general were taken down.

The Pentagon has advised NBC, NYT, NPR, and other mainstream media outlets that they would be “rotated out of the building (i.e., the Pentagon)” to make room for NYPost, Brietbart, and OANN. See @DefenseBaron.bsky.social.

And as all of the above is happening, Republicans in the Senate will vote to confirm a Director of National Intelligence with suspiciously warm views toward Putin and an FBI Director who published an “enemies list” that included dozens of politicians, journalists, military officers, and career government officials.

It is up to us to help spread the word."

[drowningin666fandoms]

BNHA Fanfic idea that won't leave me alone:

All for one is Midoriya Hizashi, but...

Nobody knows. Like, literally, nobody knows. Inko never figured out his identity, and with him getting busier after Izuku's fifth birthday it looks like he left bc he's quirkless, so she never much cared for trying to find him and neither did Izuku. All pictures of him are banished into a box in her closet and haven't seen the light of day since Izuku was six or so, when they had a fight over the telephone over him wanting to fix Izuku.

AFO himself suffered obviously a lot of head trauma when fighting All Might, and this gave him partial amnesia. He has no or only very few memories of the decade or so prior to the battle, so he has none regarding his family that he meticulously kept from everyone else's awareness, including the Doctor's. He does see the monthly payment to Inko but assumes it's from a bribe or keeping a corrupt official in his pocket. Given that he can't recall whom it's to and immortality made him extremely wealthy, he doesn't cut it off, nor tries to follow it and make the memory loss obvious.

The only one who does know?

The ghost of Yoichi, who suddenly had another person he could haunt and went to see what's going on. Maybe throw in Nana too, if you want Inko to secretly be a Shimura.

Cue Yoichi fretting over his baby nephew the very moment Izuku gets OFA, up to and including giving him in-depth instructions on how to use the quirk and helping him manage it without harm to him while the other vestiges (minus Nana) are busy laughing their asses off.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Perfection

Word count: 920 Request: @awesomerextyphoon request Hello! I love your work! Could you do a mobster chubby!bucky × baker!reader where he's known for his ruthlessness and his near saiyan level of appetite? He's scared or simply shut down other bakeries/restaurants for their alleged lackluster quality/quantity of their goods, but reader is able to go above and beyond with her frit and wit which impresses him and maybe something more. Thanks in advance!

Read on AO3

Part 1 of Dark Chocolate

You were putting some new cakes into the display when you heard the door. “I’ll be right with you!” You called out, not looking up. You took pride in how you displayed your creations. After another moment, you felt it was good enough and stood up straight. Shutting the case, you turned and your smile faltered. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Can I help you?” You asked, knowing exactly who you were looking at. Bucky Barnes. Notorious mobster who had ran other bakers out of the city. You’d known some of those bakers pretty well, and had been sad when they told you that they were forced to close. You wondered when he would make his way to your place. 

“I’m looking for something dark chocolate, and with a strawberry creme.” He smirked. “I need it in an hour.” 

You thought to what you had in back already. “Okay.” You agreed. 

He raised an eyebrow. “You can do that?” He asked, moving closer. 

You nodded. “I can.” You wouldn’t fold and let him shut you down just like that. 

“I’ll be waiting.” He moved to sit at one of the little tables. He watched you moved to the display case and take out a cupcake before bringing it to him. “What’s this?” 

“For your wait.” You told him. “It’s a plum spiced cupcake. Enjoy.” You said before heading to the back. 

Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued. He looked over the cupcake before taking a bite. Licking his lips, he let out a small groan.

After forty five minutes, you came back out with a box for him. He’d seen you now and then in that time helping other customers. “So, what am I getting?” He asked, as you set it on the table. 

You opened the box. “It’s a personal two layer dark chocolate cake. There’s a strawberry creme filling, a dark chocolate drizzle, topped with whipped cream and strawberries.” You showed him. 

He did have to admit that it looked delicious. “You know how perfect this has to be, right?” He asked, looking at you. You didn’t seem to back down or get ‘weak’ around him. 

“Oh, I know it’s perfect.” You hand one hand on your hip, leaning on the back of the chair that was across from him. “I’m conifdent in my work. I won’t serve anything that’s not perfect. How was your cupcake?” You asked. 

Bucky licked his lips, not missing how your eyes went to his mouth as he did. “Delicious.” He got up. “If you nailed this cake, you’ll be getting an order in for this weekend.” He closed the box. 

You were wiping down a counter when a tall blonde guy came in, catching your attention. “Can I help you?” 

“I’m here to put in an order for this weekend.” He told you, holding up a piece of paper that was folded in half. “For Barnes.” 

“Ah.” You nodded, feeling a bit proud. Going over to him, you reached for the paper. “Does he know that I ask for partial payment up front?” You asked. 

He looked you over. “I’m to pay in full. Up front.” He told you, noting the look of surprise on your face. He handed over the order, watching as you looked it over. “Think you can manage that, or will that be too difficult?” 

You smirked at him. “Think little old me can’t handle some cakes, cupcakes, and cookies? Please. It’s called multitasking.” You motioned for him to follow you to the register to get things rung in and paid for. “Will I be delivering this, or will it be for pickup?” You asked. 

“Delivery.” He said simply, giving you the address when you asked for it. “He’s expecting you to stay, too.” 

You sighed. Of course he did. You’d have one of your workers come in for some extra hours to run the place that day.

Bucky was looking forward to seeing you that Sunday, curious to see if your two other creations had been lucky flukes. If everything you brought that day was good, he’d be a regular at your bakery. He looked over when he heard the front doors to his club to see you carrying a flat box. “You’ve got muscle men around here somewhere, can I put them to use for all this stuff you ordered?” You asked when you spotted him. 

He chuckled. “How do you know I have muscle men around here?” He asked, moving to show you where to put the box down. 

“Well, judging by the blonde guy that put the order in…” You mused. “Then again, if he’s here, he looks like he could easily carry things for me.” You noted. “Either way, I’m not carrying that big cake all by myself. Took me and two of my employees to get it into the van.” You motioned to the door. “Or I mean, since I’m staying, you could eat it out of the van…no promises that it won’t get kinda melty in the heat.” 

“I’ll get my guys.” He grinned. “This is where you’ll be working. Party starts in an hour, gives you time to make things look good.” 

“I appreciate that. I like making things look as good as they taste.” 

“No wonder you caught my eye.” He winked, surprising you. “Because I am sure you taste as good as you look.” Bucky smirked at the blush on your cheeks as he went to get his guys. He’d certainly be keeping you around.

[tomorrowusa]

Even if you don't live in a particularly climate sensitive area in the US, your home insurance rates may increase because of climate disasters caused in more affected areas.

[N]owhere is safe from climate-worsened extreme weather risks: Hurricanes arriving from the Gulf of Mexico and Atlantic seaboard. Hail in the Midwest. Floods in the East. Sea level rise along the coasts. Wildfires in the West, most recently exemplified by the devastating and costly fires around Los Angeles. And worsening extreme weather translates into more expensive property damages, growing insurance claims, and rising insurance rates. Somebody has to pay for the costs to repair, rebuild, and replace damaged homes and vehicles, but with insurance companies raising rates and dropping customers, the situation is quickly threatening to trigger an insurance crisis. Despite rapidly rising policy rates, the homeowner’s insurance market lost money in 18 states in 2023. As a recent Senate Budget Committee staff report concluded, climate-worsened extreme weather is “destabilizing insurance markets.” And the problem extends beyond insurance policy costs. “If home values fall, governments take in less tax revenue. That means less money for schools and police,” said New York Times climate change reporter Christopher Flavelle on The Daily podcast. “Maybe instead of climate change wrecking communities in the form of a big storm or a wildfire or a flood, maybe even before those things happen, climate change can wreck communities by something as seemingly mundane and even boring as insurance.”

People are free to live in sensitive areas which are more prone to danger. But they need to understand what they're getting into and be willing to pay the costs.

Ultimately, somebody has to pay for the rising costs of property damages from climate-worsened extreme weather. As insurance companies pass those costs along to their customers, or drop some policy coverage altogether, property owners are left with suboptimal options to reduce financial burdens. Individuals can reduce their insurance plan coverage, leaving them more financially vulnerable if a disaster strikes. They can shift to parametric insurance, where payments are based on the amount by which a certain parameter like wind speed or rainfall exceeds a given threshold, rather than on the amount of damage done. Payments are made relatively fast, but these parametric plans run a substantial risk of providing insufficient money to cover actual damages.

"Managed retreats" are one way to deal with future issues.

One partial solution to the problem involves the opposite behavior – encouraging managed retreats from high-risk areas. This is a challenging and complex topic because people tend to have strong attachments to their homes. But when a house is badly damaged by extreme weather and faces a high risk of a repeat event in the future, tying insurance payouts to a move to a safer area is one possible solution. It’s one that the Canadian province of Quebec employed after destructive flood events along the Ottawa River in 2017 and 2019. Other regulatory and market-based tools can help discourage new property developments in high-risk areas.

However there are still people moving into climate sensitive areas.

In the long run, we simply need to get carbon emissions down.

Ultimately the solution must involve prevention: reaching net zero global climate pollution to stop global warming so that these extreme weather events cease to worsen. Until then, extensive efforts will be required to avert a potential insurance crisis.

For now, people should factor climate costs into there decisions regarding where to settle down.

[atsadi-shenanigans]

Feeding Alligators 69 - Eat Your Heart Out, Van Helsing

You and Gandrel have a chat.

On AO3.

The gur looks haggard. Bags under his eyes and a tired slump to his shoulders. But there’s a light in his eyes that tells you physical exhaustion ain’t gonna be an issue for him right now.

You lift your hands, “Whoa, whoa, hold on!”

The clearing is small. The brown horse is saddled and bridled. But there’s something else over its muzzle. A bag. It’s ears flick to y’all, but it otherwise seems unbothered. You wonder if there’s herbs or something in that bag to mask the smell of all the blood.

There are no visible injuries on the dead deer.

And lying next to that, flat on his back, is Astarion. Blood coats his front, from mouth to groin. It bubbles up around that horrific stake buried in his chest. He ain’t breathing, ain’t moving. Head tilted slightly back, but his eyes are on you, bugging out. His mouth moves but no sound comes out.

“What the fuck, Gandrel?” you say all soft.

“Easy now,” he says. “He’s not any deader than usual, and he’ll remain that way. His kind are quite difficult to kill, after all. It seems you knew my quarry after all.”

You lied to his face. Protected Astarion from him. But also protected him from Astarion.

“I was trying to avoid a fight. He ain’t hurting nobody out here. I mean, unless we’re already fighting them.”

“I have no idea what he or any of you are doing out here,” Gandrel says. “Nor is it my business. That lies in Baldur’s Gate.” He eyeballs you, and the ghost of a wry grin tugs at his lips. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to turn away and let me finish my hunt?”

Astarion is soaked in blood. And you’re pretty sure it’s all his. You seen people shit-scared; you seen people in Faerun as they fucking died. That is the level of terror staring out through the elf’s eyes. His fingers give the barest twitch and he manages a wet, rasping sound.

“I don’t suppose I could convince you to let him go?” you say. “We can pay more than whoever sent you.”

Probably. Taking donations from all the others. Y’all could make a down payment, at least.

“Pay?” Gandrel says. He seems actually startled. Then he turns to look at Astarion and lets out a bark of laughter. “I see. No, my friend, I’m not here on account of pay. My mission lies much closer to home”

A wet, clicking sound, this time. New blood bubbles outta Astarion’s mouth. Must be shoving the last of the air in his unmoving lungs up his throat just to try. The adrenaline burns through you, hands all numb, skin gone icy.

“What’s with him? Why can’t he move?”

The crossbow doesn’t even twitch. “Are you not familiar with vampires? You seemed knowledgeable about the hag.”

Above, the crow coughs her hideous laughter. Fucking witches.

Gandrel follows your gaze. Nods, and there’s that tiredness in his eyes again. “I seems you angered her enough she accepted my terms.”

She should be fucking dead. That’s why ain’t nobody should mess with fucking witches. Then the rest of what he said catches up. Gandrel went for help to find Astarion. That crow flutters, cocks its head with that eyeball still in its beak.

It’s…it’s been following y’all. The whole time. The hag spying on y’all. That night with Astarion in the woods, when you woke up after that disastrous talk when you got your soul stuck in a jar, after the goblin camp massacre. She’s been watching.

“You been following us,” you say.

“Indeed.” You study him again. Brown hair tied back in a partial tail. Beard tidy and waxed to a point, framed by kind, brown eyes—

One brown eye. The other pale, glazed over like a cataract. The same color as that eye in the beak of a bird.

“You’ve been difficult to catch up to,” Gandrel continues. “I only managed it this morning with a hard trek through that storm. I thought it would take longer to corner my quarry alone, but he is a vampire spawn, and they’re greedy, wretched things. He took the poisoned deer quite readily.”

Fuck. Fuck. He ain’t been eating for days. Not since the goblin camp, you think. He’s half-starved, running on fumes. He ain’t never said nothing about eating already-dead things—memories of a putrid rat and congealed blood sticking in his throat, and you’d avoid that for the rest of your life, too. It’s too easy to imagine him coming up on that deer. Slow. Maybe shaking. Clearly weak—either too old or too sick, and it’s perfect predator bait. White hunters and park rangers used to bait meat to slaughter wolves and coyotes (and then wondered why the woods started pulling back for grasslands cause there were too many goddamn deer to feed so they started stripping saplings).

Wasn’t enough to kill Astarion outright. Wasn’t meant to. Just slow him down, make him sick enough for Gandrel to get close enough with that stake.

You find the gur watching you. Something like sympathy softening his mis-matched eyes. “You truly know nothing of his ilk, do you?”

Ilk huh? Lotta meaning packed into that word. “I ain’t from here.”

“How lucky you are, then, to live free of such monsters. A stake through the heart—”

You wince.

“—paralyzes him. I have safer methods, but that will do until I can put some distance between this trail and the Gate.”

Jesus, if you hadn’t had to pee when you did, if you’d slept through the night…

“Why, then?” you say. “If nobody’s paying you?”

He hunts monsters; gave up a fucking eyeball. Astarion is a vampire. Maybe that’s all the justification he needs. Maybe it’s some bullshit pride thing. An honor thing. Or maybe monsters is just that bad—Astarion ain’t a peach on the best of days.

Then the skin around Gandrel’s eyes tightens, and his lips go thin when he says, “He stole our children.”

You don’t hear him right. That damn dirt potion. The words don’t make no sense, even as the meaning stabs you in the heart.

Mother and the Pastor came for you, hiding underneath Grandpa’s kitchen table. Grandpa—sly, laughing Grandpa—crying as he wrung the paper in his hands. Court documents. Because she was your mother (White woman) so she had more claim over you. And the Pastor came from money, so the Nation would have a hard time fighting courts and others had done it before only to be painted as drunk, druggies, sluts and poor, poor dirty Indians. You can’t leave an innocent child with those people. They deserve better.

Kill the Indian.

Save the man.

Steal the children and dress them proper and cut their hair and beat their mother tongues outta them. Not as much to your Nation as to others, but them others? Oh. Whole generations killed on purpose. Deliberately. Meant to bleed an entire people off the face of the earth.

Grandpa cried so hard he shook as he held you that last time.

“Wh,” you start. Swallow through sand. “What?”

“He and his fellow spawn, led by the vampire lord Cazador Szarr. They came in the night four tenday ago. They stole our children. All but the twin babes too young to leave their mother’s sling. My elder sent me and several others when we heard whispers one had escaped his master’s control. I will return Astarion to my people so we can question him.”

It’s one of the most sadistic forms of genocide. Literally stealing away the future. Killing them outright—disease, abuse—or changing them so much the person, the culture, came back as something else. Something strange. Altered forever. The soul gone, the language erased.

“Why?” you say. You mean, “Why your people” but your mouth don’t wanna work.

Astarion has stopped trying to speak. He just stares at you, silent and unmoving. He looks like a corpse.

“His master’s orders,” Gandrel says. “Beyond that, Szarr is a vampire lord. He needs no reason for cruelty. So he sent his spawn, who cannot disobey their lord.”

“But…but why go after Astarion? Why not that fuckface who sent him?”

In his position, drowning in the kind of rage you only catch echoes of, you already know why.

“Because we cannot reach him,” Gandrel says. “Not yet.”

You close your eyes.

The world is not just. Not unless someone is already rich and powerful. Everybody else lives under a different set of rules. And when one of them high and mighty fucks lashes out and hurts somebody, when the other somebodies know they can’t ever touch the one who did it?

They settle for a scapegoat. A crony. A lesser member of the high and mighty. Somebody they can reach. Somebody they can hurt.

“This creature,” Gandrel says. “This spawn can tell us how to get to his master.”

Two hundred years as a slave. A puppet. You saw how Astarion watched everything in that swamp after y’all left Gandrel behind. The way he peered into the dark beyond camp for nights afterward.

You’ve tasted that prey terror yourself.

“He’ll probably just tell you all that if you let him,” you say. Glance to Astarion’s wide, scared eyes. “I suspect he wants that fucker dead just as bad as you.”

But Gandrel shakes his head. “I cannot risk that. Nor can I turn down this opportunity.”

That word don’t make no sense. Getting information’d be as easy as pulling that godawful stake out. You’d bet all your Faerun possessions that Astarion would leap at the chance to sick a band of vengeful monster hunters on that fuckface.

Gandrel, apparently, clocks your confusion. “Vampires are elusive monsters. They hide in the shadows, use manipulation or compulsion to coerce others to do their bidding.”

And the man gives you such a soft look. You nearly snarl at him.

“It’s a rare thing to capture one. Even a spawn. My people can learn much from him. Use this chance so we may better protect the defenseless. Prevent anyone else’s children from being snatched in the night.”

He’s right. That shining line in your head knows it. A chance to study the enemy, learn how they work, see how they operate.

Take them apart.

They have a right to their anger. And it’s logical to learn more, to do better, in order to stop it.

But he’s going to torture Astarion probably to death.

“I want to help you,” you say, and can’t look away even as Astarion manages another horrible sound. “But you don’t got to take him. We’ll help you, Gandrel. All of us, in any way we can. Please.”

Pity. That’s what he’s looking at you with. The anger in you bares its teeth even as your skin crawls.

“You’ve made your decision, then,” he says. Sighs. “It’s not entirely your fault. They are masters of deception. I don’t know what he promised you—”

“He didn’t and he’s been a bitch the whole time.”

But your attempt to bleed off some of the tension fails.

“Or what he’s done to ensnare you,” Gandrel continues.

The devil tempts you. Calls to sinners. Especially women, who are evil by nature. Too soft, too female. Too weak to hold morals and too easily corrupted for anyone to trust. They have no judgment, no logic, you cannot help your base instincts—

“Don’t you fucking presume I ain’t making my own goddamn choices,” you say.

Gandrel gives you a small smile. “You’re a brave one. Loyal and caring, too. I suspect that’s exactly why he targeted you.”

The weakest link, the lamed gazelle. That shouldn’t hit as hard as it does, you shouldn’t let it, but all them suspicions come roaring back. He bit you cause he knows you got no connections, hit you up cause you’re the most desperate out here.

And you’re pretty good at holding a blank expression, but Gandrel is perceptive as fuck. He gives you a sad smile. “I won’t force this choice upon you, friend.”

And his fingers moves on the crossbow trigger.

“No Gandrel wait—”

A chunk. Something green flashes—

You wake to cool dirt and choking. Try to lift up, but you cannot move. The panic bites deep and you twist, try to thrash, and manage to turn your head enough to blow dirt and pine needles away enough to suck in a gasp.

Torchlight flickers. You’re face down in the woods. Your muscles fucking shake. It don’t hurt, but you can’t stop it. Fingers twitch. Arms seize and release. Feet kick around in the detritus of dead tree needles.

A dragging sound and a grunt. You got to turn the other way. Barely manage, whole body shuddering like your thighs did after that first run with Lae’zel. More clumsy and flopping than a newborn foal.

Gandrel drags Astarion by the armpits. Heaves the man a few steps closer to the horse. Astarion’s head flops uselessly at the movement. Lolls to the side as Gandrel stops to take a few breaths, and the elf’s gaze lands on you. Man’s half-crazed. He knows once Gandrel gets him on that horse, he’s looking at death by torture.

He stole their children.

He’s been a puppet for two hundred years.

He’s a murderous cunt.

He’s saved your ass at least three times by now.

He threw you away.

And now he’s being dragged off.

His laugh is bitchy and he’s mean. He teases you and makes sure you know what species you’re looking at. He keeps your secrets and cuts your heart out and holds your wounds closed and doesn’t talk to you and tries to fuck Lae’zel and seeks you out after he got rejected to watch you fucking cry and he don’t tell a soul about it or make fun of you.

“Guh,” you say.

Gandrel huffs. Looks to you. “Don’t worry. The toxin should wear off shortly. You may be numb or experience trembling on and off for several days, but it should fade entirely.”

This bitch poisoned you. It’s almost fitting.

“Wa,” you say. And yeah, it’s real hard to talk when your lungs keep shuddering and gasping like you’re hyperventilating after getting kicked in the chest by a horse.

“Take it easy, friend. These woods are dangerous, even without a vampire on the loose. Drawing attention to yourself by shouting for your companions could draw something else to you. I’d advise you to save your strength until you can get up.”

You pant. Blow more dirt from your nose. Another wave of the tremors rips through you and your head kinda flops around. Lands you face down right as your lungs suck in and you inhale in a mouthful of dirt.

The gag reflex kicks in. You make awful sounds. Can’t breathe, fuck fuck air. Which just feeds into itself and you gag and retch again. Whole body heaves and your eyes water and you just want air. Just need to inhale—

A sound. A crunch next to you. Hands grab your shoulder and Gandrel rolls you onto your side. You meet his gaze for a second, your eyes watering, face smeared with dirt and spit.

He’s a monster hunter, hunting a monster that stole a people’s children. He came back to keep you from choking to death.

You cannot let him take Astarion, and most of the choking was real. But not all of it.

Your body is a numb, seizing mess. Fine motor control is gone. All you can manage is a single shove. One, single roll.

You hit his shins. All your mass keeps going. He tries to stumble back, get clear, but there’s too much of you and it happens too quick.

He falls.

Something cracks.

The clearing goes silent, save for your shuddering, heaving gags.

Then Gandrel moans. Shifts.

He fell on a rock. Cracked his head. Much better than you expected. His chin lifts and the side of his head is smeared in red. Your body ain’t under your control—arms flop like dead meat as you writhe along the ground, in the dirt, stones and sticks digging into your flesh.

Gandrel moans again. One hand comes up, waves around the side of his head before flopping down. Head injuries are serious things. They don’t actually, conveniently and cleanly, knock people out like hitting a restart button on a computer. Best case, he’s got a bruise and a cut scalp. Worst case, it’s a traumatic brain injury and his brain swells up and he dies.

But between all that, he’s got a chance to wake up and hurt you. Kill you. Get Astarion on that horse and disappear into the night.

You cannot let that happen. You can’t.

You continue to flop and shimmy your way along his body. Not for Astarion—he’s too far away and you can’t grab that stake like this. Not for the knife glittering in the torchlight that Gandrel must’a dropped.

The man tries to sit up. Collapses again. And you’re level with his chest. Just below his chin. He’s knows he’s hurt, knows something bad is going to happen.

Your hands are useless. Feet useless. You got nothing as you sort of flop over him. He’s warm beneath you, smells clean, the fresh air clinging to his clothes.

“Sor,” you manage as one of his hands comes up to bat weakly at you. This man who came back to help you, to keep you from choking on the dirt.

He’s kind, when he can be.

You can’t think about that. Can’t let that man and his sad smile exist. You shove that down. Down and down into the deep and the dark. Take all of that, all the could-be’s and walk them down rickety, wooden steps that squeal beneath you. Walk it along loaded shelves, over to the back wall where you can chain it tight amongst evaporated milk and canned peaches.

And then you walk yourself back. Lower them creaking doors. Lower, lower, until they clack down onto the frame. Until you slip that chain through the handles and click down the great, big padlock to keep them shut. Keep them down there, screaming in the dark.

You find Gandrel’s neck.

You start chewing.

Previous - Index - Next Chapter

[fuck-customers]

Why does my job keep changing computer shit without notifying the cashiers that use them? It’s usually annoying shit like “can no longer do exchanges without a manager” and now it’s something I actually want like “being able to void a transaction after partial payment” (so that if the customer already paid part of the amount but doesn’t have enough for the rest we can go back and remove enough items so that they can afford the transaction)

Posted by admin Rodney.

[leviathan-supersystem]

@traveling-spartan @priveetru

gonna be responding to this in a separate post because i've already left two comments on the post this was in reply to and i suspect that the OP already would consider that two too many.

at any rate:

Government regulation causes monopolies more often than it combats them.

[...]

It's why big corps like Disney lobby for said regulation in the first place, it crushes all their smaller competitors for them.

for what it's worth the data doesn't seem to be backing this up. if both these claims were true, you'd expect to see a multitude of pieces of regulation that disney supported, and few if any pieces of regulation that disney opposed, but this quick overview of some of disney world's political spending on florida trend [x] doesn't show that. now admittedly this is just the partial info for the disney world division in florida specifically, and not a general overview of all their political spending, so if anyone has more complete data i'd be interested to hear it. that said, i think it's a decent slice of data to start with.

in fairness, here we can find one notable example of disney lobbying for regulation- namely when they funded efforts to support Amendment 3, which would have prevented any more large casino chains from opening in florida, so that disney world could avoid competing with major casino chains like Genting and Las Vegas Sands. and, to be fair, as noted in the article this was a pretty major driver of campaign spending.

however, A: this was primarily aimed at combating rival megacorps, not combating small businesses, (and naturally the casino megacorps disney was fighting were spending their lobbying money to combat said regulation) and B: this was the only time in the article we see disney fighting for regulation rather than against. examples in the article of disney lobbying against regulation include:

By virtue of its size and economic importance, Disney has always been an influential voice in state politics. But the company had found itself on the losing end in a series of lobbying battles — among them, a fight with the National Rifle Association about whether employees could bring guns to work.

this is an important example of how regulation of private enterprise is sometimes necessary to preserve our fundamental rights- if disney can say employees can't bring guns to work even if they keep them in their parked car, what's to stop landlords from saying tenets can't bring guns in their apartment? if you value the right to bear arms, you should understand why sometimes the power of private enterprise over employees and customers must sometimes be curbed.

Disney also battled with personal-injury attorneys about whether parents could sign away the liability rights of their children and with counties and hotel chains about how online travel companies should be taxed.

[...]

Disney’s 2018 spending included $1 million on Amendment 2, which keeps a tax cap in place that limits increases in the taxable value of commercial and other non-homestead property from rising more than 10% per year. Records show Disney was by far the largest donor to a Florida Chamber of Commerce-backed political committee used to promote the amendment. The cap saved Disney more than $6 million last year alone through reduced property tax payments to Orange County and the South Florida Water Management District.

[...]

As prominent as Disney has made itself on the campaign trail, lawmakers who have worked with the company say it still tries hard to maintain a low profile while lobbying — to avoid having its brand linked with potentially controversial public policies. Disney, for example, has exerted “significant influence” on the Legislature to not pass a law requiring employers to use the e-Verify system to ensure they aren’t employing undocumented workers, says former Senate President Don Gaetz, a Republican from Okaloosa County.

[...]

Cloaked or not, the company enjoyed a number of successes in the 2019 legislative session. Late in the session, as lawmakers finalized a broad tax package, Disney — working through the Florida Retail Federation — persuaded lawmakers to add an extra sales-tax break that will help big retailers who order too much inventory and wind up not selling it all. Retailers generally don’t have to pay sales tax when they order inventory because they are planning to resell it to consumers. The sale to consumers is the transaction that’s supposed to be taxed. But retailers must pay the tax on whatever they don’t sell, since they have become the end user of the product. Disney has for years donated its leftover inventory to charities. So the company persuaded the Legislature to create a sales tax exemption for the leftover inventory that goes to charity. Economists expect the new tax break will save retailers about $5 million a year. Disney won’t say how much it expects to save itself. Disney also worked quietly to reshape a bill, which it objected to in 2018, that would have exposed hotel operators to civil lawsuits if they failed to do enough to prevent human trafficking.

i'll leave it for the reader to consider why disney would want to combat regulation which might cause them to be held accountable for facilitating human trafficking.

Disney even won some changes in state rules for how tourist venues manage all the stuff — from hats to strollers to phones — that visitors lose or leave behind. Generally, businesses are supposed to alert law enforcement and must hold on to lost property for 90 days before they can dispose of it. But that has become cumbersome for Disney — and for Universal Orlando, Central Florida’s other big theme-park resort — which must devote lots of warehouse space simply to holding lost-and-found items. Disney helped write a bill establishing new rules for theme parks, hotels and some other commercial venues that requires them to hold the property for just 30 days and then donate it directly to charity.

looking outside the article to other examples of disney's political lobbying, we find them lobbying against minimum wage laws [x]

Five years ago, on Nov. 6, 2018, the city’s voters approved Measure L, which mandated that “area resort workers” — Disneyland employees, basically — must be paid a living wage if the parent company receives city subsidies. The Walt Disney Company, which at the time was paying some of its workers the state-mandated $11 an hour minimum, fought the measure bitterly, and the ordinance spent most of the next five years kicking around the state court system as a class-action lawsuit sought to force the company to comply. Only in late October, when the California Supreme Court declined to hear Disney’s final appeal, did Measure L become settled city law.

we can also find disney lobbying against heat safety regulations (and against raises to the minimum wage at the same time, a twofer) [x]

House Bill 433 prohibits local governments from passing legislation that protects workers from extreme heat and laws requiring companies to raise the minimum wage beyond the state’s current $12 an hour. But now, we’re learning more about how this bill was passed and the role that Disney World played in helping to remove basic protections from outdoor workers, including cast members. According to Jason Garcia of Seeking Rents, the Florida Chamber of Commerce and Associated Industries of Florida donated more than $2 million to mostly Republican legislatures and another $1 million to the Florida Republican Party. The two lobbying groups expected House Bill 433 to become law for those donations.

[...]

Local government officials in South Florida were considering passing heat protections after the death of migrant farm workers of heat stroke. These laws would have prohibited work in extreme Florida heat and mandatory water breaks for workers. The possibility of these laws stopping work became dangerous to businesses in Florida, which would have had to shut down in extreme heat. Thus, donations to politicians were made to get this bill passed.

[...]

The law was wildly unpopular, with hundreds of civic groups opposing it. That outrage nearly killed the bill. However, according to Garcia, with just one day left in the legislative session, lobbyists sent texts to lawmakers to ensure the bill’s passage.

so what can we see from all this? first, that there are more pieces of regulation that large businesses lobby against than regulations that they lobby for, so the claim that businesses are the primary force behind pushing regulation is patently false and B: when businesses do support regulation in order to pursue their financial interests, this is mainly in order to combat rival large corporations, not small businesses. because fundamentally large businesses don't have to worry that much about competition from small businesses, because fundamentally small businesses can't compete. a small business would have had to expand to the point of being a large corporation long before it would be something disney would have to worry about "competing" with instead of just buying out or ignoring entirely. you think that a megacorp like disney is worried about competition from a little mom and pop shop? get real.

Fines for breaking the rules, for example, always disproportionately affect small businesses where large corporations either have enough money to pay those fines and be unaffected by them, or have the legal teams to get around them.

a few responses to this. the first is, so what? laws against murder, rape, assault, etc are all easier for the rich to dodge, and yet we don't decide murder should be legal. the solution to that imbalance is to be more serious about holding rich people accountable for these crimes, or for fine-related punishment to scale the fine to income, not to get rid of the laws altogether. if a regulation outlaws genuinely abusive or harmful behavior from a company, the way that small companies can avoid that fine is by simply not engaging in abusive or harmful behavior.

secondly, plenty of regulations nonetheless have specific exemptions for small businesses anyway. for example

In general, if your business is under $50 million in annual sales and your fuel or additive has traditional chemistry, then you are exempt from the health effects testing requirements. If you have non-traditional chemistry and are under $10 million in annual sales, you are exempt from some of the testing. EPA staff can discuss testing requirements.

[x]

or for another example:

The Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act requires packaged foods and dietary supplements to bear nutrition labeling unless they qualify for an exemption (A complete description of the requirements). One exemption, for low-volume products, applies if the person claiming the exemption employs fewer than an average of 100 full-time equivalent employees and fewer than 100,000 units of that product are sold in the United States in a 12-month period. To qualify for this exemption the person must file a notice annually with FDA. Note that low volume products that bear nutrition claims do not qualify for an exemption of this type. Another type of exemption applies to retailers with annual gross sales of not more than $500,000, or with annual gross sales of foods or dietary supplements to consumers of not more than $50,000. For these exemptions, a notice does not need to be filed with the Food and Drug Administration (FDA). On May 7, 2007, the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) launched a new web-based submission process for small businesses to file an annual notice of exemption from the nutrition labeling requirements. The new process will make it easier for businesses to update their information. In addition, firms eligible for the exemption will receive an electronic reminder when it is time to resubmit their nutrition labeling small business exemption notice.

[x]

or yet another:

Manufacturers of consumer products covered by the Department of Energy (DOE) standards with annual gross revenues not exceeding $8 million from all its operations, including the manufacture and sale of covered products, for the 12-month period preceding the date of application, may apply for a temporary exemption from all or part of an energy or water conservation standard. (42 U.S.C. 6295 (t))

[x]

so, no, regulations are not a sinister trick of large corporations to crush small business, because if they were they wouldn't specifically exempt small businesses.

does this mean that @priveetru was right? are regulations an important part of maintaining ideal market conditions and thus creating Real Capitalism, which is Good?

also no.

first, it's all "real capitalism". more regulated, less regulated, it's still Real Capitalism. and as demonstrated by the things going on around us, right now, real capitalism is Bad.

as @traveling-spartan pointed out, large corporations can simply afford to pay or dodge any fees for breaking regulation (though overall they would prefer not to have to, hence why they usually fight against regulation) and small businesses are often exempt from regulations in the first place. so who do regulations actually prevent from economic malfeasance?

nobody. not a soul. they're a completely ineffective bandaid on a bazooka wound which accomplishes nothing.

regulated or unregulated, all market economies tend towards consolidation. on a long enough timeline, all small businesses either are successful enough to become large businesses, are unsuccessful enough to go out of business, or are average enough to get bought out. it's an inevitable part of capitalism as it actually exists, and no matter what fantasy you chase after of a hypothetical, imaginary, impossible "real" capitalism, whether this fantasy is laissez-faire or tightly regulated, you will never escape that reality.

if you want to solve the problem, you can't keep chasing after an imaginary "real capitalism". instead you need to move past capitalism altogether. if you want to address the fact that bill gates and other billionaires are monopolizing farmland and therefore gaining control over our very subsistence, the solution to that isn't to sit around praying to the invisible hand of the free market to save us, and it's also not begging and pleading the existing bourgeoisie state to Le Heckin Tax The Billionaires. the real solution is for regular working class people like us to rise up and take back what is rightfully ours, and create a new state that actually serves the needs of the working people and not just the owning class.

[beardedmrbean]

About half a million people in Finland will begin receiving smaller subsidies from the Social Insurance Institution (Kela) next week. The changes may reduce an individual jobseeker’s social support by up to 390 euros a month.

The reductions in unemployment benefits and housing allowances are part of the austerity measures implemented by the right-wing government led by Prime Minister Petteri Orpo of the pro-business National Coalition Party (NCP).

As of Monday, 1 April, jobless benefit recipients will no longer receive extra benefits based on having children, and will now see a cut in unemployment payments corresponding to any paid work done while on the dole.

According to a Kela statement, “the child increases that Kela pays as a supplement to labour market subsidies, basic unemployment allowances and commuting and relocation allowances will be abolished” as will the 300-euro monthly “exempt amount” associated with unemployment benefits.

The latter refers to an exemption whereby an unemployment insurance recipient has been allowed to earn up to 300 euros per month without a loss of benefits. Earnings exceeding 300 euros have lowered unemployment insurance by 50 cents per euro.

From Monday, each earned euro will lower unemployment payments by 50 cents, up to a maximum reduction of 150 euros per month.

The cuts equally apply to earnings-related unemployment insurance as to labour market supports and basic daily allowances paid by Kela.

Until now, the unemployment insurance child benefit has been 130–240 euros per month, depending on the number of children. The child allowance will be removed completely.

About 100,000 people will be affected by the removal of child allowances. Meanwhile more than 74,000 people who received unemployment benefits also earned income from work last year. Some beneficiaries may be affected by both cuts.

Cuts particularly affect women

The cuts in the earnings-related allowance will hit women in particular, said Aki Villman, executive director of the Federation of Unemployment Funds in Finland (TYJ).

“The changes will have the greatest impact on parents who do part-time or gig work, who are most often women. Women receive child support more often than men, and are more likely to work part-time or intermittently than men,” he told Yle. According to Signe Jauhiainen, a senior researcher at Kela, women who receive unemployment benefits are also more likely to earn some wages at the same than men. Jauhiainen noted that the groups receiving earnings-related and labour market supports are different.

“There are three major groups of labour market support recipients: young people who don’t yet have a working career, people who have recently moved to Finland and those who have been unemployed for a long time. Doing part-time work is clearly less common among recipients of labour market support than among those receiving earnings-related support,” Jauhiainen explained.

Housing allowance will also be cut

Cuts in the general housing allowance will also take effect in April. In total, around half a million recipients of Kela housing and unemployment benefits will receive smaller payments than before.

About two-thirds of Kela's unemployment insurance recipients also receive housing allowances.

Jauhiainen said that income supports will partially compensate for the cuts in unemployment insurance and housing support.

“Around a third of Kela's unemployment insurance recipients already receive income support, so they will receive less unemployment insurance and housing benefit but more income support than before. As a result of the cuts, there may be new recipients of income support, in other words households that have previously managed without support,” Jauhiainen said.

Finland's main labour unions have cited cuts in social security among the reasons for their ongoing political strikes. They are aimed at pressuring the eight-month-old Orpo government into backtracking on its planned reforms in labour and social security policies. They argue that the reforms will broadly hurt women of working age.

[darthbreezy]

So today I effectively received 'the codes' if I chose my personal nuclear option to leave the US...

I'm not going to lie, as a naturalized immigrant I'm more than a little worried. I may not be high on the deportation list, but I'm not immune. So I've been putting out 'feelers', looking at housing options in the UK, getting my citizenship papers in order, deciding what I could take with me, what I'd leave behind'... Looking at how much it would cost to bring the cats over... Stuff like that. It's in part to help me feel like I have SOME control over my life. In the next three months I have to see a Nephrologist AND a Hematologist AND a fucking Oncologist because apparently having Heart Failure AND COPD AND Rheumatoid Arthritis (that has has given me nodules in my lungs, thank you very much! ) Isn't enough. It doesn't help that my roommate can't keep a job for more than a fucking week either, so 'we're' relying on my Social Security (HAHHAHAHA!) So 10 years of awesome credit has gone down the toilet in two months...

We're behind on rent, again.

I've managed to wiggle and wrangle the full amount every month, but it gets harder each month. Thursday, we got the dreaded 'reminder' notice, and today I took in the partial payment I'd scraped up. I just cried when I talked to our incredibly kind property manager, begging for a little more time and begging them not to evict us...

That's when she dropped the bomb and gave me the codes. Apparently eviction takes years, and it's insanely expensive (for them). There are people who owe thousands, and haven't said boo, they just squat... If I wanted to completely go scorched earth, I could just not pay - save every dime, not look back and leave everyone high and fucking dry... Yeah, there's a vicious part of me that loves the idea. I'd be a liar if I said otherwise... but I just... can't. *sighs*

Onward...