#Employee attendance machine | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gootarts · 1 year

Text

as of 8/3, the most recently updated version of this post is here (it's a reblog of this exact post with more info added)

as a lot of you know, limbus company recently fired its CG illustrator for being a feminist, at 11 pm, via phone call, after a bunch of misogynists walked into the office earlier that day and demanded she be fired. on top of this, as per korean fans, her firing went against labor laws---in korea, you must have your dismissal in writing.

the korean fandom on twitter is, understandably, going scorched earth on project moon due to this. there's a lot currently going on to protest the decision, so i'm posting a list here of what's going on for those who want to limit their time on elon musk's $44 billion midlife crisis impulse purchase website (if you are on twitter, domuk is a good person to follow, as they translate important updates to english). a lot of the links are in korean, but generally they play nicely with machine translators. this should be current as of 8/2.

Statements condemning the decision have been issued by The Gyeonggi Youth Union and IT Union.

A press conference at the Gyeonggido Assembly will occur on 8/3, with lawmakers of the Gyeonggi province (where Project Moon is based) in attendance. This appears driven by the leader of the Gyeonggi Youth Union.

The vice chairman of the IT union--who has a good amount of experience with labor negotiations like these--has expressed strong support for the artist and is working to get media coverage due to the ongoing feminist witch hunts in the gaming industry. Project Moon isn't union to my knowledge, but he's noted that he's taken on nonunion companies such as Netmarble (largest mobile game dev in South Korea) by getting the issue in front of the National Assembly (Korea's congress).

Articles on the incident published in The Daily Labor News, Korean Daily, multiple articles on Hankyoreh (one of which made it to the print edition), and other news outlets.

Segments about the termination on the MBN 7 o' clock news and MBC's morning news

Comments by Youth Union leaders about looking into a loan made to Project Moon via Devsisters Ventures, a venture capital firm. Tax money from Gyeonggi province was invested in Devsisters in 2017, and in 2021, Devsisters gave money to Project Moon. The Gyeonggi Youth Union is asking why hard-earned tax money was indirectly given to a company who violates ESG (environmental, social and governance) principles.

Almost nonstop signage truck protests outside Project Moon's physical office during business hours until 8/22 or the company makes a statement. This occurs alongside a coordinated hashtag campaign to get the issue trending on Twitter in Korea. The signage campaign was crowd-funded in about 3 hours.

A full boycott of the Limbus Company app, on both mobile and PC (steam) platforms. Overseas fans are highly encouraged to participate, regardless if whether they're F2P or not. Not opening the app at all is arguably the biggest thing any one person can do to protest the decision, as the app logs the number of accounts that log on daily. For a new gacha such as Limbus, a high number of F2P daily active users, but a small number of paying users is often preferable to having a smaller userbase but more paying users. If the company sees the number of daily users remain stable, they will likely decide to wait out any backlash rather than apologize.

Digging up verified reviews from previous employees regarding the company's poor management practices

Due to the firing, the Leviathan artist has posted about poor working conditions when making the story. As per a bilingual speaker, they were working on a storyboard revision, and thought 'if I ran into the street right now and got hit by a car and died, I wouldn't have to keep working.' They contacted Project Moon because they didn't want their work to be like that, and proposed changes to serialization/reduction in amount of work per picture/to build up a buffer of finished images (they did not have any buffer while working on Leviathan to my knowledge). They were shut out, and had to suck it up and accept the situation.

Hamhampangpang has a 'shrine' section of the restaurant for fans to leave fan-created merch and other items. They also allow the fans to take this merch back if they can prove it's theirs. Fans are now doing just that.

To boost all of the above, a large number of Korean fanartists with thousands of followers have deleted their works and/or converted their accounts from fanart accounts to accounts supporting the protests. Many of them are bilingual, and they're where I got the majority of this information.

[note 1: there's a targeted english-language disinformation campaign by the website that started the hate mob. i have read the artist's tweets with machine translation, and they're talked about in the second hankyoreh article linked above: nowhere does she express any transphobic or similarly awful beliefs. likewise, be wary of any claims that she supported anything whose description makes you raise eyebrows--those claims are likely in reference to megalia, a korean feminist movement. for information on that, i'd recommend the NPR/BBC articles below and this google drive link of english-language scholarly papers on them. for the love of god don't get your information about a feminist movement from guys going on witch hunts for feminists.]

[note 2: i've seen a couple people argue that the firing was for the physical safety of the employees, citing the kyoani incident in japan. as per this korean fan, most fans there strongly do not believe this was the case. we have english-translated transcripts of the meeting between the mob and project moon; the threats the mob was making were to......brand project moon as a feminist company online. yes, really. male korean gamers aren't normal about feminism, and there's been an ongoing witch hunt for feminists in the industry since about 2016, something you see noted in both the labor union statements. both NPR and the BBC this phenomenon to gamergate, and i'd say it's a pretty apt comparison.]

let me know if anything needs correction or if anything should be added.

#project moon #limbus company #obligatory text post tag #that's all i've got for now. highly encourage y'all to not open limbus until they make a statement

4K notes · View notes

minnesota-fats · 1 year

Text

Watchtower Tech. Danny

Part 2

Part 1

Dick was excited when Bruce asked if he wanted to go back to the watchtower today after school. Of course he said yes, it was so fun the first time he went last week. But unlike last time, the novelty of being up in space wore off quicker than the first time. Because this time, Bruce had to attend a meeting. Dick sat in his own chair—kicking his dangling feet next to Bruce as he talked about some boring thing or another. Dick looked out the window and watched the stars outside, it was those stars that reminded Dick of Danny—the fellow Gothamite who worked below the lower levels of the watchtower. So when a break was finally called, Dick went up to Bruce and tugged on his cape.

“Hey, B,” Dick asked, looking up at the man.

“Yes, Chum,” Bruce grumbled out as he looked over his notes with a furrowed brow.

“Can I go hang out with my bird buddy down stairs?” Dick asked. Bruce looked at him, trying to recall what the words meant which made Dick sigh, “you know, Danny, the guy I met last time.”

“Hmm.” Bruce said, thinking. Dick has only just started to figure out Bruce speak, but he knew that particular ‘Hmm,” in that tone ment Bruce was weighing his options. After a few more seconds Bruce sighed, “go ahead.” He says in his gruff voice.

“Yes!” Dick exclaimed.

But before he could run off Bruce said, “as long as you are not distracting him from his work. If he is too busy, come right back.” Bruce demands.

Dick let out a groan, “fiiiiiine!” He moans before running over to the elevators and pressing the button to go to the lower floors.

The elevator doors opened to what looked like the hustle and bustle of a wearhouse mixed with an auto body shop. Several employees littered the floor, Some at computer stations, others at work tables while some just sat and ate in the corner laughing with others who were on their breaks. Also unlike last time—now having permission to be there—Dick scampered across the floor looking for the familiar black hair of one Danny Nightingale. After surveying the area with no idea where the older man was, Dick decided to go up to a group of workers near the back corner.

“Excuse me?” Dick says through the crushindo of laughter from the men on their break. They don't really seem to notice him, Dick pouted and jumped up onto the table to make himself seen. “Excuse me!” He shouts.

The group pauses and looks up at him with confusion written all over their faces. Dick smiled, “hi, i'm looking for Danny Nightingale. Do you know where he is?” He asked politely.

Several of the workers looked at eachother, some shrugged and laughed. One of the men spoke up, “where did you come from kid?”

Dick tilted his head to the side, “from upstairs?” Dick said like it was obvious. A few workers gave him a look that he couldn’t really decipher.

“And why are you looking for Nightingale?” The man asked with a cocked brow.

“Cuz we’re bird buddies!” Dick exclaimed enthusiastically with a big goofy smile. The men surrounding the table found the statement funny and started laughing, causing Dick to pout. “Can you just tell me where he is,” Dick demands, now getting annoyed.

Another man let out a snort, “sure kid,” he pointed over to a man who was crouched with his back facing the group, with his upper half obscured by the machine. “He’s over there doing something he’s probably not supposed to.”

Dick lifted a brow, “what do you mean, not supposed to?”

“Look kiddo, that kid’s crazy, but clever.” An older man spoke up, “The tech head, Dale, has him on cleanup detail but the kid keeps sticking his nose into things he's not supposed to. Managed to catch a meltdown before it could happen and Dale was furious. He's too scared to bring it up with the higher ups.” The old man smirked, “guy has it out for Nightingale but doesn't want to risk losing his job for letting the rookie fix something while also not wanting to give Danny the credit.”

Dick let out a hum in thought, thinking that there may be a case of abuse of power here. “How come?” He asked the man.

The man smirks, “the kid’s good, knows it too. It pisses Dale off!” He said with a laugh before going back to his chat with the others around him—unaware of the seed he planted in Dick’s mind.

Dick furrowed his brow, he may have to look into this further; maybe if B see’s he solved a case all by himself maybe he could stay out later on patrol! Dick smiled and waved goodbye to the men, despite them no longer paying him any mind, “thank you!” He shouts before running off towards danny.

He walked closer to the man who was half in the machine; a faint humming came from the man as he worked. Dick smirked, he snuck up behind the man, “hey, Bird Buddy!” He shouts, causing the man to jump and hit his head on the roof of the machine. Danny winced and sat back up, rubbing the spot he hit his head. He looks back with furrowed brows, though his expression changed when he saw Dick smiling up at him.

“Oh, hey Birdy, good to see you again.” Danny says with a smile.

“You too, Big Bird.” Dick said, beaming at his own nickname he made for Danny.

“Ha. Good one, kiddo," Danny paused, “actually aren't robins bigger than nightingales?” He asked, putting his hand onto his chin.

Robin mimicked him, “I don't know…. But it makes sense cuz you're bigger than me!” Dick says, explaining his reasoning.

Danny smirks, “got me there, Birdy. You wander off without Batman knowing again?” Danny asked as he grabbed a rag from his belt and began wiping grease off his hands.

“Nope!” Robin exclaims, “B and the others were having a meeting so before it reconvened, I asked if I could come see you. Batman said that I could as long as I wasn't bothering you.”

Danny smiled, “aww, you could never bother me.” He cood.

“So what are you doing?” Robin asked, head tilting to the side as he leaned trying to peek around danny.

“One of the zeta tubes is on the fritz so I thought I would take a look at it.”

“Do you know what's wrong?” Dick asked as he peeked into the open mouth of the machine.

Danny shrugged, “No, technically I'm not supposed to be working on it.” He explained.

“Then why are you working on it?” Dick asked with a raised brow.

“Because I may have a bird name but I'm not a chicken.” He says with a smirk at his own joke. Dick let out a cackle, “the guy who was working on it went on break and left all his tools out. So I took that as an invitation to finish what he started.”

“Won't you get in trouble?” Dick asked, looking around.

“People tend to ignore me here.” Danny says as he turns to look back into the zeta tube control panel that he was tinkering with.

“Why?” Dick asked, he already started making a mental catalog of everything he has heard so far like how Bruce taught him.

“Well, most people applied to this job directly to the Justice League, it's a very sought after job that takes endless amounts of screening to get. Only one in three people get hired. I, however, was scouted out directly from the dark knight himself.” Danny explained, “people think I didn't earn the job like they did.”

“Really?” Dick asked, “but if B went to you directly, that must mean you're good!” He exclaimed.

“Aww, thanks, Birdy,” Danny cood with a smile as he looked back over his shoulder, “I just have had lots of experience since I was a kid.”

“Your parents let you do that?” Dick asked before remembering what Danny said about his parents last time, “sorry….”

Danny paused and looked at Dick with confusion written all over his face before realization dawned on his face, “oh, don't be sorry kiddo, I got over them a long time ago.”

“But—don't you miss them?”

Danny sighed, turning back away from the zeta tube control panel to face Dick fully, “of course I do, they were my parents…. But they made it clear what their decision was…," Danny says looking down slightly. He sighed again, “it was so long ago that it doesn't matter anymore, I still have my big sister at least, and my two best friends. They helped me a lot and are the reason I came so far!” Danny paused, “and that's what really matters, the people who are there for you. Family doesn't always mean blood. Does that make sense?” Danny asked with a tilt of his head.

Dick thought about it, sure, his parents will always be his parents. But they were not his only family. All of Haly's circus was his family, from Zitka the elephant to Waldo the clown to even Mr.Haly himself! They were his family, but that wasn't all. His mind started to fit Bruce and Alfred into his idea of family. Dick smiled up at Danny, “yeah, that makes sense.”

Danny turned away from him, “good,” he says as he grabs a tool from the bag, going back into the mess of wires. “How was your day today, Robin?” He asked.

Dick smiled, “it was good, school was boring though,” He said with a groan as he threw his head back, “English is hard!”

Danny laughed, “I'm right there with ya, bud,” Danny exclames without turning away from what he was working on. “English was never my strongest subject either, but my favorite teacher I ever had was my high school English teacher.”

Dick lifted a brow, “really?” He asked incredulously, thinking about his own English teacher—who wore the same boring suit every day and would always stop Dick in the hall because he was “out of dress code” because of something he added to the uniform to make it look nicer.

Dick could hear the laughter in Danny's tone, “yeah, surprised me too when I realized it. His name was Mr.Lancer, he believed in me when no one else did. AND he cursed in book titles!” Danny exclaimed.

Dick laughed, “really, how?” He asked.

Danny sat back up and put his hands on his hips and exclaimed in a mocking voice, “Lord of the Flies! Mr.f—Nightingale, what are you doing!”

Dick laughed harder before falling onto his back and kicking his feet up in the air. Danny looked over his shoulder and smiled before going back to his work. The two continued to chat as Danny worked, dick talking about how boring his teacher is compared to the stories Danny had of Mr.Lancer. After thirty minutes or so, the familiar yellow light of the zeta-beam began to glow on the control panel.

Danny sat back and laughed, “Ha. Got it!” He exclaimed, proud he managed to figure out the tech.

“Awsome!” Dick exclaimed, jumping up and stretching his legs.

Danny followed suit and stood up, his joints popping in protest as he stretched. Danny looked down at dick and smiled, “cmon, kiddo, let's get out of here before the first guy shows back up!” Danny declares as he puts everything back the way he found it.

Dick laughed and followed Danny like a duckling as the man went and moved on to his next task for the day.

@cannibalisticphantom @stealingyourbones @akikkobara @spookytragedyshark @jaguarthecat @vythika96 @fae-of-the-wild @spikedlynx @cicibunbuns @redhoneysugarorange @nottmuchtopost @rosecinnamonbun

#watchtower worker!danny #watchtower tech!Danny #danny fenton #cute #fun #dpxdc #dcxdp #ficlit #danny nightingale #fenton nightingale #robin!dick #dick Grayson #bruce wayne #justice league #uwu #fluff #:3 #part 2 is here!

2K notes · View notes

readytoescalate · 5 months

Text

"EMORY IS EVERYWHERE": AN OPEN INVITATION FROM PROTESTORS OCCUPYING EMORY UNIVERSITY

As the Palestine Solidarity movement rips across college campuses, college administrators and government bureaucrats are rushing to denounce anyone taking action as an “outside agitator”. Those who grease the gears of the war machine think that this rhetoric will erode public support for bold actions at Emory. They are wrong. 45 years after the Camp David Accords - an infamously botched, imperialist plan for peace between Israel and Egypt with no input from Palestinians - was orchestrated by an Emory faculty alum President Carter, we observe that there is nowhere on Earth “outside” of Emory University. We want to say as clearly as possible - we welcome “outside agitators” to our struggle against the ruthless genocide of Palestinians. Emory University has the highest tuition, the lowest acceptance rate, and by far the highest endowment of any institution in Georgia. Economic barriers, infamously racist standardized testing, and nepotism have barred many from studying at Emory. To students in Atlanta and beyond - we invite you to struggle with us. Local high school students dream of attending Emory, and many teachers encourage them to study hard and take up extracurriculars to increase their chance acceptance, knowing their chance of admission is slim. To local high school students and teachers, we invite you to struggle with us. Just down the street from Emory Hospital Midtown is the site of the former Peachtree-Pine homeless shelter. In a bid to gentrify the city and evict its houseless population, the City closed the shelter and did not replace it, displacing hundreds and cutting off a last line of support for thousands of poor people in the city. Emory University purchased this building, just one example of Emory’s contribution to gentrification in Atlanta. To those without homes, or those displaced by gentrification, we invite you to struggle with us. Emory’s $11 billion endowment, the 11th highest in the country, is an outsized influence in Atlanta’s economy. While economic inequality widens in the city, Emory remains a bastion of the rich. To the restaurant workers, house cleaners, gig workers, and all proletarians - we invite you to struggle with us. In 2020, Emory University laied off or furloughed over 1500 employees. To those who are no longer affiliated with the university - we invite you to struggle with us. 4 out of 5 students at Emory are not from Georgia. While the Freedom Riders were heading down to Georgia in the 1960’s to fight for Black people’s right to vote, segregationist governors cast them as “outside agitators”. To those from outside Atlanta and Georgia, we invite you to struggle with us. 1 in 5 students at Emory are from outside of the United States. The Palestinian students murdered by American weapons under Biden will never be one of those students. To those from outside of the country, we invite you to struggle with us. In April 2023, Emory admin called the police to break up a protest led by students against Cop City on the quad. None of the pigs were Emory students. To all of those who struggle against police brutality, we invite you to struggle with us. EMORY IS EVERYWHERE. THE PLACE FOR DIVISION IS NOWHERE. WE INVITE YOU TO STRUGGLE WITH US.

#palestine #gaza #escalate4gaza #emory university #students for justice in palestine #occupy

133 notes · View notes

khaire-traveler · 3 months

Text

So, my friend just left their job at a certain chain of grocery stores that starts with a W and decided to share some interesting facts with me. I thought y'all might find it interesting, too.

W has had a major problem with theft since introducing the "no plastic bags". People keep putting things in their personal bags at the self checkout or even leaving them purposely in their bags at the cash registers (and most cashiers don't actually check for hidden items if other bags are inside of the main bag or if it's not obvious).

They've applied new locks to certain items that hang because people would just pull them off of the old locks. They're actually planning to introduce more security measures in the future - specifically, putting many items behind locked glass doors.

W's self checkout now has features where it can detect a ticket switch (scanning another product in place of the actual product) and a mis-scan. Pretty interesting stuff! Apparently, though, it's not always 100% accurate, and if someone were to scan the second ticket in such a way that the camera above couldn't see it, it may not be able to detect it. The machine, however, can tell when two VERY different items do not match (ex: scanning a pair of expensive headphones as a fruit). If it detects a problem, the attendant can pause the transaction and review the footage of the last item that was scanned. Definitely a helpful security feature!

The greeters at the front of the store are trained to only check a receipt if there are unbagged items. Along with that, if they see a bag or backpack, they'll check receipts then, too, and will look inside of the bag if the customer allows it. Crazy thing is that you can deny having your receipt checked! They can't and won't do anything if a customer just walks past them, and if they try to stop a customer leaving, W can get sued.

The only W personnel who are allowed to deal with shoplifters and the like are the Asset Protection Team™. No one else is allowed to touch a suspected thief, nor are they allowed to accuse a customer of stealing. If a customer is accused of stealing and forced through a receipt check yet hasn't stolen anything, W legally has to compensate them for the hassle upon request (with proof, such as camera footage, the request simply can't be denied, though W may try to prolong the process).

W employees are required to clean up spills immediately upon seeing them. I'd say most employees will just leave the spill, grab the equipment, then come to clean it up in reality, but they're supposed to "guard" the spill until they can find another associate to help them clean it up. I'm just saying, but this seems like a really unfortunate distraction that could take an employee's attention away from other matters, such as if there's suspicious activity nearby and someone was purposely creating some kind of distraction. These spills do make their jobs harder, however.

One of the biggest issues that I heard about was people scanning the quantity of certain items as less than there actually were (specifically at self checkouts). Pastries and fruits are a good example of this. Some people will enter one cookie but actually have 3, for example. I think the items this happens most often with are cookies, donuts, avocados, bananas, lemons, limes, mangoes, cantaloupes, and any items that like those that don't require a weight to purchase. This is the case with most grocery store self checkouts, however.

Although many of the cameras W places within random store aisles are fake, those that are placed near expensive items tend to be legit cameras. There was a post that circulated online about how these cameras tend to be fake, and due to that post, you'll now see lots of thieves get caught on cameras that they assumed were not real. It's so wild when you see those videos on YouTube! Those videos literally expose the identities of the people who steal to potentially thousands of people across the world and establish shitty reputations for said people. Other stores are made aware of their identities and can more easily prevent the stealing!

Speaking of those videos, it's very silly to watch those thieves try to hide things in their coats or bags just to discover that the items don't fit. It's almost as if they didn't check beforehand to make sure they'd have enough room, especially without it being noticeable! I mean, don't they practice in a mirror or even have a loved one who checks to see if it's obvious? That's so wild to me!

While associates who are at registers and self checkouts aren't allowed to intervene if they see or suspect a thief, they do have to immediately alert the managers and asset protection. It's pretty wild to see this process in action and watch how quickly the team can move! I've even heard of asset protection being allowed to tackle customers they believe are stealing, although I've never seen this in action. I kind of feel like tackling a thief, especially one you're not sure is actually a thief, would be a good way to get W sued, you know?

I feel like SOOOOO many thieves get caught by giving themselves away, tbh. I guess this isn't something my friend told me, but I've seen it happen so many times in security footage videos on YouTube where the person stealing will look around them as they're grabbing the item, quickly put the item into wherever, look around again, and use a lot of nervous body language as they try to exit the store. Like, the best thieves I've seen have always acted very confident - being aware of their surroundings before grabbing the item, grabbing the item very casually, finding a casual way to slip it into somewhere as they walk away, and walking out with the confidence that they know exactly what they're doing and absolutely nothing is wrong. They seem to walk with their backs straight and their heads held up a bit, almost as if to say "I'm not worried". Either that, or they walk with a very relaxed stride, like that of someone who's just walking into W and walking back out for no reason in particular. When they put too much thought into how they walk, however, it becomes much more obvious. A dead giveaway is probably when the thief acts fidgety, seems paranoid, displays signs of being very nervous whenever an associate is nearby or watching them, and walks very rigidly. You also tend to see good thieves going to checkout lanes that are the furthest from an employee or are in a spot in the middle. Pretty interesting!

Please share this if you'd like! This information is very important for us customers to be aware of. Hopefully, we can spot security threats ourselves and report them to employees of any store! I'm sure many of these things happen at other stores besides W.

#hermes pheletes #hermes deity #feel free to spread this information around #i feel it's important for customers to know so that we can help keep our local stores safe!#shoplifting #stealing #theft

111 notes · View notes

octuscle · 5 months

Text

Old

When you're skinny and weak, it's no fun being young. Richard wasn't even particularly clever or funny or charismatic. Richhard was just a lop! No longer being 18. No longer being mistaken for 16. No longer being bullied… Richard wanted nothing more! Regularly attending a gym seemed the logical consequence. Train hard. That must lead to muscles. And tougher facial features. And more respect from others…. But the first few visits to the gym were more than demoralizing. The other guys here were so much bigger than him. He looked ridiculous in his cheap clothes from school sports. Richard moved his work outs to the early mornings or late evenings when he was almost alone. At some point he was asked if he would like to earn a few extra dollars. Soon, when he trained in the evening, Richard would lock up the gym after his workout, clean up, mop the floor and get everything ready for the next morning. This had many advantages. He had money for better clothes and even got an employee discount at the gym store. And he could train completely alone and undisturbed after the official end of business.

That had an effect. Slowly. Far too slowly. After six months, perhaps no one was laughing at Richrad anymore. But no one showed him any respect from the members or colleagues who occasionally crossed his path despite his training and working hours.

Richard had already heard about this Chronivac. It was used to support particularly solvent customers with their transformations. The device had to be in the managing director's office. But it was always locked there. There was no chance of getting to the device. Until this one evening. The evening when Richard walked through the corridors with the mop. And the door to the office was open. Wide open. And this device was lying on the desk. Obviously on. The display bathed the office in a very faint blue light.

"Scanning the client" was written on the display… It looked like a normal smartphone app. Richard pressed "okay" and a monitor appeared. Richard held the device in front of his face. There was no button like on a camera. But after a few moments there was an acoustic signal and the message "Number of virtual training units" appeared on the display. Damn, what was that supposed to mean? Was the device simulating training sessions? Richard trained three times a week. 12 times a month. 144 times a year. It would be cool to be four years older. 22 years old. A college jock who had been training hard for four years. Richard did a quick mental calculation. That was about… He heard footsteps. Shit! 500 had to be about right. He typed in 600 and pressed enter. And carefully put the device back on the desk. Hopefully that had worked. He took the mop and ran to the showers. And while he was mopping the floor, Nick, the manager, came in. He greeted Richard and asked if everything was OK. It was already late and Richard should leave. All right, Richard replied. The message "Transformation started. Perform 500 monthly training cycles. Transformation within the next eight hours."

As he has done for almost 42 years, Rick was one of the first to enter the gym. He had been a member longer than any other guy pumping here. Longer than anyone who worked here. Rick was simply part of the inventory. He was the janitor, the manager, the go-to guy here. And a role model for every man who trained here. Yes, Rick had never become one of the musclemen who also trained here. But he had also always been clean. Never cheated. And a body that still worked like a well-oiled machine despite his almost 60 years of life was his thanks. Yes, his beard and hair were gray. But he still had the body of a 30-year-old athlete. And with that, he had honestly earned the respect of everyone here.

Inspiration by @workinprogress1986

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #chronivac #age progression #ai image

114 notes · View notes

nebuladreamerrr · 5 months

Text

Home is wherever you are| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: After a few months of a lovely relationship, it's time for Kylian to meet your parents and you think he might be uncomfortable or ashamed of the kind of life they lead.

Warnings: English is not my first language

Even though your profession brings you into contact with celebrities, you never entertained the idea of pursuing a relationship with one. Since childhood, you've relished taking charge and imprinting your unique touch on everything you do. From an early age, you delighted in crafting with fabric scraps your mother would occasionally bestow upon you. Despite their humble nature, these textiles fueled your boundless imagination, solidifying your passion for event organization when it came time to choose your path.

Navigating the world of event planning wasn't without its challenges, as success often hinged on one's network. Thus, you embarked on the gradual process of building connections. Initially daunting, given your upbringing in a small village where genuine relationships trumped networking, you acclimated to the dynamic.

Typically, clients reached out to you through referrals from former acquaintances, and you made it your mission to orchestrate celebrations that would linger in their memories. To some, your meticulous attention to detail might have seemed excessive, but to you, each element held significance. Even the simplest of adornments, like napkins, warranted careful selection, ensuring every moment became indelible. Yet, despite your dedication, you felt uneasy attending these events. Whether due to social anxiety or shyness, you preferred delegating oversight to a trusted employee, prepared to intervene remotely if any issues arose.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly for little Amin Hakimi's party until a last-minute hiccup with the birthday cake. Maintaining control was your forte, and such mishaps were rare. However, when they did occur, you hesitated to dispatch an employee to rectify the situation. While the bakery bore responsibility for the oversight, you owned the consequences for placing trust in them. With resolve, you swiftly retrieved the box and hastened to the venue.

Upon your arrival, Hakimi reassured you, understanding the situation, insisting that everything was fine as the party had just begun. Initially, you intended to depart, but he skillfully appealed to your emotions, emphasizing how saddened Amin would be if you left. Tentatively, you attempted to acclimate to the ambiance, grabbing a few canapés, but your efforts were interrupted by a suave Frenchman eager to engage you in conversation. Thanks to him, the evening passed swiftly.

Following that serendipitous encounter, a string of dates ensued, and before either of you knew it, love blossomed unexpectedly. Kylian, typically guarded about his personal life, met his match in your reserved nature. Concerned about public perception and wary of being perceived as with him for his fame, you opted to support him discreetly, save for major games. Kylian, understanding your stance, found added motivation in performing well, knowing you'd be watching.

It was at the Ligue 1 final that you found yourself face-to-face with his parents, a situation orchestrated by Kylian himself. Yet, you couldn't protest, feeling an instant connection with them. From that moment on, they became integral figures in your life.

Now, after eight months together and with the leisure of summer allowing Kylian more flexibility, introducing him to your parents had become almost obligatory. Not doing so risked misconceptions, suggesting secrecy where none existed. They were affectionate and supportive individuals who always championed your aspirations as if they were their own. Their modest lifestyle wasn't due to financial constraints but rather a source of genuine contentment. For instance, your mother eschewed modern conveniences like washing machines and tumble dryers, finding solace in the simplicity of handwashing clothes—a sacred moment for her to reflect amidst the melodies of birdsong. Similarly, your father's preference for a gas stove over a ceramic hob wasn't a matter of practicality but a belief that it imbued dishes with a distinct flavor. You never felt ashamed of their choices; rather, they were the bedrock of your life. Fully aware of your relationship with a football player, they eagerly anticipated meeting him.

So, after preparing a quick protein shake for Kylian to drink after training, you knew it was time to start that conversation.

"Thank you so much, mon amour," Kylian said quickly as he hurried to sit beside you while you sipped the shake you had prepared for him.

"You're welcome, darling. By the way, there's something I've been thinking about, and I'd like to tell you," you said, nervously playing with the bracelets adorning your wrist.

Kylian immediately noticed your nervous gestures and grew concerned. Swiftly, he took your hands in his and said, "Is everything alright? You know you can tell me anything. No matter how overwhelming it may seem, we'll figure it out together."

Upon seeing his loving gestures, you couldn't help but muster a shy smile that his comments had elicited. Quickly, you addressed the burgeoning concern for Kylian. "No, no, nothing is wrong. I simply thought that it was time for you to meet my parents. Though don't worry, I know it's a long car journey and you might feel tired, so if that's the case, we can..."

Before you could continue, Kylian silenced you with a subtle kiss, smiling warmly. "Mon amour, nothing would make me happier."

Despite Kylian's early fame bringing a myriad of opportunities with numerous women, he held the notion of meeting your parents in high regard. For him, it was an intimate milestone in a relationship, and he was certain that he wanted that with you.

From that day forward, Kylian was filled with excitement, so the first weekend he had free, without any interviews or company campaigns, was earmarked to meet your parents. Additionally, he consistently sought your input on attire and suitable gifts for your parents. While he typically favored sporty attire and luxury brands, he harbored no fear of judgment from his potential in-laws. However, he recognized the importance of harmonizing with the natural setting. Ultimately, he settled on vegan soaps infused with natural essences for your mother and a bottle of wine sourced from a vineyard near his locale as the optimal choice for your father.

"Ma cherie, I promise you everything is going to be fine; you have nothing to worry about," Kylian reassured you, casting a reassuring smile as they stopped at a red light.

"I know, honey, but remember they don't have all the electronic resources you're used to, so if you need hot water or if you need to wash your clothes, don't hesitate to..." you said nervously until Kylian interrupted.

"Shhh, mon amour, I've already told you that I went on a school trip to a farm school, and they were the best days of my life, not counting the day I met you. So relax, don't worry."

When you arrived and beheld your parents' quaint little house adorned with various flowers, likely planted by your mother during her gardening course, the first thing you did was greet Fleur, your German shepherd, enveloping her in a warm hug. Your bond with your dog had always been strong and leaving her behind when you moved to the big city had been heartbreaking.

"Mum, we're here" you called out, raising your voice slightly, knowing she could be anywhere in the garden.

Receiving no response, you intertwined your hand with Kylian's, guiding him through the garden as you searched for your parents. You couldn't help but be amused as you watched Kylian marvel at the various objects in sight.

"Honey, this is incredible, like something out of a movie. I wish that when I retire from football and you're not as tied up with your event planning, we could live in a place like this. Or maybe we could buy a second home now to relax when we are stressed," Kylian remarked, his words prompting a smile to spread across your face. You leaned in to give him a gentle kiss, silently conveying your love for his idea and your willingness to do anything as long as it was with him.

Finally, you encountered your mother amidst the strawberry bushes she had likely planted months earlier. Upon seeing you, her excitement was palpable as she enveloped you in a tight hug. Your closeness with your mother was evident, and despite your parents having a phone, they preferred face-to-face conversations, relishing every opportunity to catch up. She released you quickly, however, turning her attention to your companion.

"My goodness, you're taller than I thought," she exclaimed, wrapping Kylian in an affectionate hug. Kylian chuckled softly and reciprocated the hug, embracing his mother-in-law warmly.

After the introductions were complete, your father arrived, having just returned from a ride on his tractor. You all entered the house and settled into the cozy living room, adorned with a wooden table crafted by your father and a fireplace that held a special place in the family's heart, having been passed down through generations.

From that moment on, Kylian's excitement was palpable as he eagerly assisted your parents in any way he could. What made it even better was knowing he wasn't doing it to impress them; he was genuinely fascinated by their ability to thrive without modern technology. He looked like a child following your father around, trying to comprehend the wonders of their world.

"He's a good boy. You're going to marry him," your mother suddenly remarked, handing you a cup of tea.

"What?" you asked, dumbfounded. While marrying Kylian was certainly your desire, your parents hadn't always been keen on your past partners, so their swift intuition caught you off guard.

"Call it mother's instinct or whatever you like, but I'm certain. Mark my words," your mother replied, gazing out the window as the sunset.

You cherished the truth in your mother's words, yet you didn't want to rush and miss out on important moments. So, you savored every adventure with Kylian, allowing your love to deepen with each passing day.

In the end, it seemed your mother's intuition was spot on when you exchanged vows in a quaint stable three years later.

#kylian mbappe x reader #kylian x reader #mbappe imagine #kylian mbappe #mbappe psg #mbappe x reader

114 notes · View notes

mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year

Text

On September 22, I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 21 years since Bill Willingham launched Fables, his 110-issue, wide-ranging, delightful and brilliantly crafted author-owned comic series that imagines that the folkloric figures of the world's fairytales are real people, who live in a secret society whose internal struggles and intersections with the mundane world are the source of endless drama.

Fables is a DC Comics title; DC is division of the massive entertainment conglomerate Warners, which is, in turn, part of the Warner/Discovery empire, a rapacious corporate behemoth whose screenwriters have been on strike for 137 days (and counting). DC is part of a comics duopoly; its rival, Marvel, is a division of the Disney/Fox juggernaut, whose writers are also on strike.

The DC that Willingham bargained with at the turn of the century isn't the DC that he bargains with now. Back then, DC was still subject to a modicum of discipline from competition; its corporate owner's shareholders had not yet acquired today's appetite for meteoric returns on investment of the sort that can only be achieved through wage-theft and price-gouging.

In the years since, DC – like so many other corporations – participated in an orgy of mergers as its sector devoured itself. The collapse of comics into a duopoly owned by studios from an oligopoly had profound implications for the entire sector, from comic shops to comic cons. Monopoly breeds monopoly, and the capture of the entire comics distribution system by a single company – Diamond – was attended by the capture of the entire digital comics market by a single company, Amazon, who enshittified its Comixology division, driving creators and publishers into Kindle Direct Publishing, a gig-work platform that replicates the company's notoriously exploitative labor practices for creative workers. Today, Comixology is a ghost-town, its former employees axed in a mass layoff earlier this year:

https://gizmodo.com/amazon-layoffs-comixology-1850007216

When giant corporations effect these mergers, they do so with a kind of procedural kabuki, insisting that they are dotting every i and crossing every t, creating a new legal entity whose fictional backstory is a perfect, airtight bubble, a canon with not a single continuity bug. This performance of seriousness is belied by the behind-the-scenes chaos that these corporate shifts entail – think of the way that the banks that bought and sold our mortgages in the run-up to the 2008 crisis eventually lost the deeds to our houses, and then just pretended they were legally entitled to collect money from us every month – and steal our houses if we refused to pay:

https://www.reuters.com/article/idINIndia-58325420110720

Or think of the debt collection industry, which maintains a pretense of careful record-keeping as the basis for hounding and threatening people, but which is, in reality, a barely coherent trade in spreadsheets whose claims to our money are matters of faith:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/12/do-not-pay/#fair-debt-collection-practices-act

For usury, the chaos is a feature, not a bug. Their corporate strategists take the position that any ambiguity should be automatically resolved in their favor, with the burden of proof on accused debtors, not the debt collectors. The scumbags who lost your deed and stole your house say that it's up to you to prove that you own it. And since you've just been rendered homeless, you don't even have a house to secure a loan you might use to pay a lawyer to go to court.

It's not solely that the usurers want to cheat you – it's that they can make more money if they don't pay for meticulous record-keeping, and if that means that they sometimes cheat us, that's our problem, not theirs.

While this is very obvious in the usury sector, it's also true of other kinds of massive mergers that create unfathomnably vast conglomerates. The "curse of bigness" is real, but who gets cursed is a matter of power, and big companies have a lot more power.

The chaos, in other words, is a feature and not a bug. It provides cover for contract-violating conduct, up to and including wage-theft. Remember when Disney/Marvel stole money from beloved science fiction giant Alan Dean Foster, whose original Star Wars novelization was hugely influential on George Lucas, who changed the movie to match Foster's ideas?

Disney claimed that when it acquired Lucasfilm, it only acquired its assets, but not its liabilities. That meant that while it continued to hold Foster's license to publish his novel, they were not bound by an obligation to pay Foster for this license, since that liability was retained by the (now defunct) original company:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/30/disney-still-must-pay/#pay-the-writer

For Disney, this wage-theft (and many others like it, affecting writers with less fame and clout than Foster) was greatly assisted by the chaos of scale. The chimera of Lucas/Disney had no definitive responsible party who could be dragged into a discussion. The endless corporate shuffling that is normal in giant companies meant that anyone who might credibly called to account for the theft could be transfered or laid off overnight, with no obvious successor. The actual paperwork itself was hard for anyone to lay hands on, since the relevant records had been physically transported and re-stored subsequent to the merger. And, of course, the company itself was so big and powerful that it was hard for Foster and his agent to raise a credible threat.

I've experienced versions of this myself: every book contract I've ever signed stipulated that my ebooks could not be published with DRM. But one of my publishers – a boutique press that published my collection Overclocked – collapsed along with most of its competitors, the same week my book was published (its distributor, Publishers Group West, went bankrupt after its parent company, Advanced Marketing Services, imploded in a shower of fraud and criminality).

The publisher was merged with several others, and then several more, and then several more – until it ended up a division of the Big Five publisher Hachette, who repeatedly, "accidentally" pushed my book into retail channels with DRM. I don't think Hachette deliberately set out to screw me over, but the fact that Hachette is (by far) the most doctrinaire proponent of DRM meant that when the chaos of its agglomerated state resulted in my being cheated, it was a happy accident.

(The Hachette story has a happy ending; I took the book back from them and sold it to Blackstone Publishing, who brought out a new expanded edition to accompany a DRM-free audiobook and ebook):

https://www.blackstonepublishing.com/overclocked-bvej.html

Willingham, too, has been affected by the curse of bigness. The DC he bargained with at the outset of Fables made a raft of binding promises to him: he would have approval over artists and covers and formats for new collections, and he would own the "IP" for the series, meaning the copyrights vested in the scripts, storylines, characters (he might also have retained rights to some trademarks).

But as DC grew, it made mistakes. Willingham's hard-fought, unique deal with the publisher was atypical. A giant publisher realizes its efficiencies through standardized processes. Willingham's books didn't fit into that standard process, and so, repeatedly, the publisher broke its promises to him.

At first, Willingham's contacts at the publisher were contrite when he caught them at this. In his press-release on the matter, Willingham calls them "honest men and women of integrity [who] interpreted the details of that agreement fairly and above-board":

https://billwillingham.substack.com/p/willingham-sends-fables-into-the

But as the company grew larger, these counterparties were replaced by corporate cogs who were ever-more-distant from his original, creator-friendly deal. What's more, DC's treatment of its other creators grew shabbier at each turn (a dear friend who has written for DC for decades is still getting the same page-rate as they got in the early 2000s), so Willingham's deal grew more exceptional as time went by. That meant that when Willingham got the "default" treatment, it was progressively farther from what his contract entitled him to.

The company repeatedly – and conveniently – forgot that Willingham had the final say over the destiny of his books. They illegally sublicensed a game adapted from his books, and then, when he objected, tried to make renegotiating his deal a condition of being properly compensated for this theft. Even after he won that fight, the company tried to cheat him and then cover it up by binding him to a nondisclosure agreement.

This was the culmination of a string of wage-thefts in which the company misreported his royalties and had to be dragged into paying him his due. When the company "practically dared" Willingham to sue ("knowing it would be a long and debilitating process") he snapped.

Rather than fight Warner, Willingham has embarked on what JWZ calls an act of "absolute table-flip badassery" – he has announced that Fables will hereafter be in the public domain, available for anyone to adapt commercially, in works that compete with whatever DC might be offering.

Now, this is huge, and it's also shrewd. It's the kind of thing that will bring lots of attention on Warner's fraudulent dealings with its creative workforce, at a moment where the company is losing a public relations battle to the workers picketing in front of its gates. It constitutes a poison pill that is eminently satisfying to contemplate. It's delicious.

But it's also muddy. Willingham has since clarified that his public domain dedication means that the public can't reproduce the existing comics. That's not surprising; while Willingham doesn't say so, it's vanishingly unlikely that he owns the copyrights to the artwork created by other artists (Willingham is also a talented illustrator, but collaborated with a who's-who of comics greats for Fables). He may or may not have control over trademarks, from the Fables wordmark to any trademark interests in the character designs. He certainly doesn't have control over the trademarked logos for Warner and DC that adorn the books.

When Willingham says he is releasing the "IP" to his comic, he is using the phrase in its commercial sense, not its legal sense. When business people speak of "owning IP," they mean that they believe they have the legal right to control the conduct of their competitors, critics and customers:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

The problem is that this doesn't correspond to the legal concept of IP, because IP isn't actually a legal concept. While there are plenty of "IP lawyers" and even "IP law firms," there is no "IP law." There are many laws that are lumped together under "IP," including the big three (trademark, copyright and patent), but also a bestiary of obscure cousins and subspecies – trade dress, trade secrecy, service marks, noncompetes, nondisclosues, anticirumvention rights, sui generis "neighboring rights" and so on.

The job of an "IP lawyer" is to pluck individual doctrines from this incoherent scrapheap of laws and regulations and weave them together into a spider's web of tripwires that customers and critics and competitors can't avoid, and which confer upon the lawyer's client the right to sue for anything that displeases them.

When Willingham says he's releasing Fables into the public domain, it's not clear what he's releasing – and what is his to release. In the colloquial, business sense of "IP," saying you're "releasing the IP" means something like, "Feel free to create adaptations from this." But these adaptations probably can't draw too closely on the artwork, or the logos. You can probably make novelizations of the comics. Maybe you can make new comics that use the same scripts but different art. You can probably make sequels to, or spinoffs of, the existing comics, provided you come up with your own character designs.

But it's murky. Very murky. Remember, this all started because Willingham didn't have the resources or patience to tangle with the rabid attack-lawyers Warners keeps kenneled on its Burbank lot. Warners can (and may) release those same lawyers on you, even if you are likely to prevail in court, betting that you – like Willingham – won't have the resources to defend yourself.

The strange reality of "IP" rights is that they can be secured without any affirmative step on your part. Copyrights are conjured into existence the instant that a new creative work is fixed in a tangible medium and endure until the creator's has been dead for 70 years. Common-law trademarks gradually come into definition like an image appearing on photo-paper in a chemical soup, growing in definition every time they are used, even if the mark's creator never files a form with the USPTO.

These IP tripwires proliferate in the shadows, wherever doodles are sketched on napkins, wherever kindergartners apply finger-paint to construction-paper. But for all that they are continuously springing into existence, and enduring for a century or more, they are absurdly hard to give away.

This was the key insight behind the Creative Commons project: that while the internet was full of people saying "no copyright" (or just assuming the things they posted were free for others to use), the law was a universe away from their commonsense assumptions. Creative Commons licenses were painstakingly crafted by an army of international IP lawyers who set out to turn the normal IP task on its head – to create a legal document that assured critics, customers and competitors that the licensor had no means to control their conduct.

20 years on, these licenses are pretty robust. The flaws in earlier versions have been discovered and repaired in subsequent revisions. They have been adapted to multiple countries' legal systems, allowing CC users to mix-and-match works from many territories – animating Polish sprites to tell a story by a Canadian, set to music from the UK.

Willingham could clarify his "public domain" dedication by applying a Creative Commons license to Fables, but which license? That's a thorny question. What Willingham really wants here is a sampling license – a license that allows licensees to take some of the elements of his work, combine them with other parts, and make something new.

But no CC license fits that description. Every CC license applies to whole works. If you want to license the bass-line from your song but not the melody, you have to release the bass-line separately and put a CC license on that. You can't just put a CC license on the song with an asterisked footnote that reads "just the bass, though."

CC had a sampling license: the "Sampling Plus 1.0" license. It was a mess. Licensees couldn't figure out what parts of works they were allowed to use, and licensors couldn't figure out how to coney that. It's been "retired."

https://creativecommons.org/licenses/sampling+/1.0/

So maybe Willingham should create his own bespoke license for Fables. That may be what he has to do, in fact. But boy is that a fraught business. Remember the army of top-notch lawyers who created the CC licenses? They missed a crucial bug in the first three versions of the license, and billions of works have been licensed under those earlier versions. This has enabled a mob of crooked copyleft trolls (like Pixsy) to prey on the unwary, raking in a fortune:

https://doctorow.medium.com/a-bug-in-early-creative-commons-licenses-has-enabled-a-new-breed-of-superpredator-5f6360713299

Making a bug-free license is hard. A failure on Willingham's part to correctly enumerate or convey the limitations of such a license – to list which parts of Fables DC might sue you for using – could result in downstream users having their hard work censored out of existence by legal threats. Indeed, that's the best case scenario – defects in a license could result in downstream users, their collaborators, investors, and distributors being sued for millions of dollars, costing them everything they have, up to and including their homes.

Which isn't to say that this is dead on arrival – far from it! Just that there is work to be done. I can't speak for Creative Commons (it's been more than 20 years since I was their EU Director), but I'm positive that there are copyfighting lawyers out there who'd love to work on a project like this.

I think Willingham is onto something here. After all, Fables is built on the public domain. As Willingham writes in his release: "The current laws are a mishmash of unethical backroom deals to keep trademarks and copyrights in the hands of large corporations, who can largely afford to buy the outcomes they want."

Willingham describes how his participation in the entertainment industry has made him more skeptical of IP, not less. He proposes capping copyright at 20 years, with a single, 10-year extension for works that are sold onto third parties. This would be pretty good industrial policy – almost no works are commercially viable after just 14 years:

https://rufuspollock.com/papers/optimal_copyright.pdf

But there are massive structural barriers to realizing such a policy, the biggest being that the US had tied its own hands by insisting that long copyright terms be required in the trade deals it imposed on other countries, thereby binding itself to these farcically long copyright terms.

But there is another policy lever American creators can and should yank on to partially resolve this: Termination. The 1976 Copyright Act established the right for any creator to "terminate" the "transfer" of any copyrighted work after 30 years, by filing papers with the Copyright Office. This process is unduly onerous, and the Authors Alliance (where I'm a volunteer advisor) has created a tool to simplify it:

https://www.authorsalliance.org/resources/rights-reversion-portal/

Termination is deliberately obscure, but it's incredibly powerful. The copyright scholar Rebecca Giblin has studied this extensively, helping to produce the most complete report on how termination has been used by creators of all types:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/10/04/avoidance-is-evasion/#reverted

Writers, musicians and other artists have used termination to unilaterally cancel the crummy deals they had crammed down their throats 30 years ago and either re-sell their works on better terms or make them available directly to the public. Every George Clinton song, every Sweet Valley High novel, and the early works of Steven King have all be terminated and returned to their creators.

Copyright termination should and could be improved. Giblin and I wrote a whole-ass book about this and related subjects, Chokepoint Capitalism, which not only details the scams that writers like Willingham are subject to, but also devotes fully half its length to presenting detailed, technical, shovel-ready proposals for making life better for creators:

https://chokepointcapitalism.com/

Willingham is doing something important here. Larger and larger entertainment firms offer shabbier and shabbier treatment to creative workers, as striking members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA can attest. Over the past year, I've seen a sharp increase in the presence of absolutely unconscionable clauses in the contracts I'm offered by publishers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/27/reps-and-warranties/#i-agree

I'm six months into negotiating a contract for a 300 word piece I wrote for a magazine I started contributing to in 1992. At issue is that they insist that I assign film rights and patent rights from my work as a condition of publication. Needless to say, there are no patentable inventions nor film ideas in this article, but they refuse to vary the contract, to the obvious chagrin of the editor who commissioned me.

Why won't they grant a variance? Why, they are so large – the magazine is part of a global conglomerate – that it would be impractical for them to track exceptions to this completely fucking batshit clause. In other words: we can't strike this batshit clause because we decided that from now on, all out contracts will have batshit clauses.

The performance of administrative competence – and the tactical deployment of administrative chaos – among giant entertainment companies is grotesque, but every now and again, it backfires.

That's what's happening at Marvel right now. The estates of Marvel founder Stan Lee and its seminal creator Steve Ditko are suing Marvel to terminate the transfer of both creators' characters to Marvel. If they succeed, Marvel will lose most of its most profitable characters, including Iron Man:

https://www.reuters.com/legal/marvel-artists-estate-ask-pre-trial-wins-superhero-copyright-fight-2023-05-22/

They're following in the trail of the Jack Kirby estate, whom Marvel paid millions to rather than taking their chances with the Supreme Court.

Marvel was always an administrative mess, repeatedly going bankrupt. Its deals with its creators were indifferently papered over, and then Marvel lost a lot of the paperwork. I'd bet anything that many of the key documents Disney (Marvel's owner) needs to prevail over Lee and Ditko are either unlocatable or destroyed – or never existed in the first place.

A more muscular termination right – say, one that kicks in after 20 years, and is automatic – would turn circuses like Marvel-Lee/Ditko into real class struggles. Rather than having the heirs of creators reaping the benefit of termination, we could make termination into a system for getting creators themselves paid.

In the meantime, there's Willingham's "absolute table-flip badassery."

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/15/fairy-use-tales/#sampling-license

Image: Tom Mrazek (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:An_Open_Field_%2827220830251%29.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/deed.en

Penguin Random House (modified) https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/707161/fables-20th-anniversary-box-set-by-bill-willingham/

Fair use https://www.eff.org/issues/intellectual-property

#pluralistic #fables #comics #graphic novels #dc #warner #monopoly #publishing #chokepoint capitalism #poison pills #ip #bill willingham #public domain #copyright #copyfight #creative commons #licenses #copyleft trolls

241 notes · View notes

hades-in-bloom · 1 year

Text

But First, Coffee

Post-DI!Leon S. Kennedy x Corp Exec!Reader

summary: Leon is after his next target when he encounters a not-so-cooperative informant.

warnings & contents: older Leon (as per usual); could be age gap, could be none; accidentally plot-heavy and a dialogue heaven; mentions of smoking; Leon doesn’t do one-night stands; hints of power play; the reader could be any gender; might be turned into series (? big question mark).

a/n: this one just wrote itself as the pairing dynamic bugged me for a while—I haven’t seen it anywhere yet, but nudge me if I’ve missed anything; I think Leon might enjoy being bossed around a bit (for his own good, also by someone who isn’t Ada)—and as he can easily boss back, too. Overall, desperately clinging to my last brain cells. As always, proceed at your own risk—and let me know if this smaller font is unreadable. Minors DNI! Masterlist

Also—holy smokes, folks—this blog hit 100+ follows! Might sound insignificant to some, but it just blows my mind. Thank you so much for reading! xoxo

***

‘I haven't seen him. I wasn't paying attention. Please, I have more important things to attend to,’ you begged repeatedly—until a cop who was torturing you gave up. She knew she couldn’t keep you in the interrogation room for longer, so she had to let you out—eventually. You never thought that your morning run would end up with you in a police department.

‘We’ll have a short break,’ she sighed, giving you a stern look. ‘You may grab coffee next door; I'll call you back.’

You breathed out an irritated ‘Great,’ and took your chances, making your way to the only coffee machine in your vicinity. That one looked abused by thousands of hands eager to get a dose of instant caffeine.

‘You’d be better off drinking plain water than this,’ you heard a chuckle from your right before you noticed a tall man leaning on the nearby wall, watching you. He was dressed casually–heavy boots, dark jeans with a straight fit, and a probably expensive leather jacket; his sharp gaze trained on you, attempting to look into your soul—luckily for you, some of your employees were convinced you had no soul, so you left unfazed by the efforts.

You chuckled back at him. ‘Fair, but I don’t think that even this swill of a drink could worsen my situation.’

‘You don’t look like a local,’ you mentioned aloud, and he smirked in reply.

‘Good eye—I’m not. Well, not anymore,’ he confessed, stepping towards you. He didn’t seem to be planning to give you more details about himself, and you weren’t in a hurry to ask—or, instead, you didn’t care—yet.

‘Well,’ you gave him a look full of friendly irony, ‘if you’re not my knight in shining armour who can get me the hell out of this interrogation immediately, so I won't lose my job, I’d rather get on with my coffee.’

You turned your attention to the visibly overused coffee machine so you didn’t see how his eyebrows rose up a little, and a slight smirk touched his lips.

You grabbed a half-full coffee cup from under the machine and then turned as you heard your name down the corridor. ‘And that’s me.’ You emphasized before walking away. He watched you calmly, his eyes expression unreadable. ‘So long, local boy.’

You couldn’t hear him when he quietly chuckled in amusement as you returned to the officer’s lair.

It took twenty more minutes of unnecessary suffering before the door to the interrogation room swung open.

‘Leon?’ The cop looked surprised as you glanced at the intruder quickly—the local boy. Now, you were intrigued.

‘Jess, sorry for interrupting,’ Leon smiled at the old friend, ‘but I have Chief’s clearance to get this one,’ the man nodded at you briefly, ‘out of this questioning.’ He gave Jess—or, as known by you, Detective Jessica Harlow—an apologetic look. ‘D.S.O. orders.’

The detective sighed and returned him an irritated but tamed look. ‘Fine,’ Jessica glanced back at you. ‘It was a waste of time anyway.’

You couldn't hold back a scoff. ‘Tell me about that.’ Leon gave you a dirty look, although you could see his mouth twitch in a suppressed giggle.

‘Alright, get out.’ He said with a sigh, waving you towards the corridor. ‘I'll explain everything on the way.’

As you stepped outside the NYPD building, you took a moment to examine him. ‘So you are the knight in shining armour.’

Leon chuckled lightheartedly. ‘Oh, I'm definitely not that.’ The man neither considered himself noble nor his usual tactical vest was shiny. From his point of view, he wasn’t a hero type either.

‘Leon Kennedy, Division of Security Operations under the U.S. government,’ he introduced himself, done with the jokes. You held back a moan—so the local boy was a trap—a quite high-flying bird, though. He read you and showed a soft smile. ‘I know you have spent a lot of time with Jess, but I might have a couple of questions more.’ Leon thought he was worthy of the favor after he pulled you out of the interrogation with NYPD hours before Harlow would get satisfied—Jessica has always been thorough. ‘And for a change, they won't be about that theft you witnessed this morning.’

You weren’t excited; he could see that much. ‘Do I have a choice?’ You sighed.

‘Not really,’ Leon admitted honestly. You found him amusing—although the man knew he was in control of the situation, his look was soft, allowing, lacking arrogance you get used to seeing in your line of work, and he was too relaxed to your liking.

‘Can it wait at least?’ You pressed with desperate notes in your tone. ‘I am late to a critical meeting.’

He nodded reassuringly after a short pause.

Although still impatient, you sighed in relief and took a business card out, handing it over to the federal agent. ‘I guess I can skip my introduction.’ You stepped to the side, hailing a taxi. ‘Call my assistant. He’ll match our schedules.’

‘I can wait, but I can’t wait for long,’ Leon retorted as your leg stepped inside the yellow car.

You gave Kennedy a sweet smile before you shut the door. ‘Great. You tell him that.’

Leon was left stunned for a moment as he watched the car riding off deeper into downtown New York.

‘Shit,’ he mumbled with annoyance in his voice—and with a sudden hint of admiration, too.

***

‘I told you—I can’t wait that long.’

You jolted in surprise as you heard a familiar voice and your car door swung open. It was a couple of days since you met him for the first time.

‘I told you to call my assistant,’ you smiled politely as Leon made himself comfortable in the backseat next to you. You gave the nod to a company driver that he could drive on despite the unexpected guest present.

‘Oh, I have called—but the only available slot is three weeks from now. I guess you forgot to brief him on the urgency of our meeting.’

‘My bad then.’ You sighed, showing no remorse. ‘Close the door if you want this conversation to happen. I was just about to drive back home.’

Kennedy followed your advice and shut the door before the car took off.

‘So, what do you want to know?’

You were direct—Kennedy preferred that style of communication. Leon pulled up a picture on his phone. ‘There’s an assumption to believe you should know that guy.’ You tensed a bit as you took a look at the image.

‘I would prefer to have my lawyer present,’ you replied casually, making Leon chuckle.

‘Come on, it’s a friendly conversation. I’m not here to accuse you of anything—I have more important things on my plate.’

You scoffed. While thinking, you pulled up a cigarette case out of your purse and were about to light up one of those when you noticed the man making a slight grimace—it wasn’t his goal to tell you what to do, and you probably wouldn’t have noticed it if you didn’t glance at him at the right time. You shot him a look. ‘What’s that? I saw it.’

‘I just… prefer my clothes not to smell of cigarette smoke,’ Leon replied, his voice gentle but confident. Despite the diversion, he stayed close to the topic. ‘But I'd rather you answer my question than we talk about the dangers of smoking.’

You had to admit that this annoying motherfucker had a style. ‘Great. Otherwise, I was looking forward to being scolded by a stranger.’ Your tone of voice was surprisingly friendly. Leon seemed not to hold a grudge.

You didn't care much about the opinions of others generally—but this time, the unknown force made you slow down and put away your lighter before you got a light out of it.

At last, you entertained his question. ‘The man is Art Rankine.’ You glanced back at Kennedy’s phone, still showing the photo. ‘I had a pleasure to work with him on one of the mergers.’

‘Legion Corp.,’ Leon assumed, and you raised an eyebrow.

‘Good to hear you did your homework. Then I don’t have to break my NDA—and thanks to that one, I’m not sure I can help you much.’

‘I would question that all of your encounters with Mr. Rankine were covered by the NDA.’ The man smiled, giving you a look. You felt your cheeks getting warm. ‘Am I right?’ Leon tilted his head while keeping eye contact. After a moment, you returned a dirty look at him.

‘We dated. Fleetingly, if I may add,’ you admitted reluctantly.

‘Good. As the merger was closed recently, I'd assume you still have his private contact?’ Kennedy asked.

You felt like you were falling into the James Bond-esque rabbit hole, and you didn't enjoy it.

‘So the all-knowing Leon Kennedy knows I slept with the man but couldn’t get his number?’ You didn't hold back on sarcasm, but it left the federal agent unfazed.

‘Something like that,’ he retorted. ‘I need your help to set up a meeting. That’s all I ask for.’

You scoffed. ‘You request me to contact my ex, and then you call it a small favor?’

‘That’s the best offer I’ve got.’ Leon admitted. ‘I’d rather we establish this partnership quickly.’ Oh, you knew well what that meant—a very gentle threat of making you spend a lot of money on your lawyer. It annoyed you as much as, to your amusement, you found it hot.

You sighed.

‘How do you want the meeting?’

You could see his watercolor eyes light up in satisfaction.

‘We can talk about it tomorrow. Care to give me your personal number?’

You took his mobile phone out of his hands before quickly typing in your number and calling your cell.

‘I am saving you under a horrible name,’ you warned the federal agent, and Leon let out a chortle.

‘Flattered. Now, I can get off right there,’ he nodded at the closest street corner. Soon, the driver stopped there for a moment.

‘So long, local boy.’

You watched him get out of the car, observing his features unintently—and then, by accident, you caught himself staring at his lips for a quarter of a second.

He noticed it.

‘Buy me a coffee first, sweetheart,’ he smirked before closing the car door as he exited the vehicle.

You realized you were holding back your breath after a while—you shook it off right after, finally putting a cigarette into your mouth and briefly cursing under your breath while you lit it up.

162 notes · View notes

scraftyisthebest · 3 months

Text

Spinel and Chalce both posing as legal employee positions in different places, and both wearing glasses no less. Spinel is disguised as a member of Exceed, a company Friede used to work for and is still more or less affiliated with and using that to spy on Friede himself as well as his crew. Meanwhile, Chalce is disguised as a teacher at Naranja Academy, where Liko, Roy, and Dot are currently attending as students, to spy on them, having Coral and Sidian serving her as students to help her spy on the kids.

These two are a pretty unique duo of admins in the Explorers. Spinel is posing as a researcher in a research company, while Chalce is posing as a teacher in an academy. Those two positions stand out as one thing in common: the main specialties of a professor, and these positions involve studying.

Spinel and Chalce are both infiltrating these places to act as spies watching the Rising Volt Tacklers as per Gibeon's command, but the fact that it's these two specifically really strikes, and in the way they do it. The first we hear of them together is when Hamber is told they're together in a lab. They often coordinate and lead operations, either one or the other, or both together.

These two really strike as both intellectuals among the Explorers, who are both scientists of some sorts, and they are the "brains" of the group, gathering intel and information, designing technology, and planning operations, being the strategists behind the Explorers and their operations.

The two of them together specialize in research and information and they also seem to have a knack for infiltrating into places with disguises no less. What's interesting is that despite being admins of the Explorers, they seem to be esteemed intellectuals themselves with a positive public reputation that allows them to get into teaching/researching positions legally to have those serve as their legal venture covers for their shady undercover Explorers missions.

The dichotomy between their main partner Pokemon really highlights a unique contrast between Spinel and Chalce, however. Umbreon is a Dark-type, while Medicham is primarily a Fighting-type and a Psychic-type secondarily. Both of these types are sort of counterparts to the Dark-type, which helps to contrast Spinel and Chalce's characters in a way. Dark-type and Psychic-type are both types based on high intellect, with the Dark-type being based on smart strategy and cunning, and the Psychic-type being the mind power type and associated with high intelligence to manipulate energy. This helps to highlight Spinel and Chalce as both intellectuals who are the brains of their organization. Meanwhile Dark-type and Fighting-type contrast as both combat oriented types, but the Dark-type is all about dirty fighting, using such cunning strategy that Dark-types aren't above dirty fighting and unfair tactics, while the Fighting-type is a physical combat type, but involves sheer strength and more head-on attack. This highlights the difference in Spinel and Chalce's methods when they do their missions. Spinel tends to hide in the shadows, never showing his face, while he commands his Pokemon remotely, representative of the Dark-type, and when he does fight he uses unfair tactics such as using his Beheeyem to immobilize his opponent then have Magneton fire Zap Cannons while they're incapacitated, or keeping his Umbreon and having it attack Liko, Roy, and Dot from the shadows. Meanwhile Chalce tends to be more directly involved in her missions, directly leading the attack on the Black Rayquaza using her machine to lure it in, then attack it head-on before trying to catch it, having Coral and Sidian serve as additional firepower.

Their movesets also contrast, since Spinel's Umbreon has Snarl (low power but ranged and lowers firepower), Reflect (a defensive move), Foul Play (uses the opponent's strength against it), and Quick Attack, a fast and speedy strike. This shows Spinel's more deceitful, yet defensive type of character, hiding himself and trying to protect himself, refusing to interact with others directly, while trying to outsmart his opponents from afar, making sneaky attacks on them, lowering their power, and using their strength against them. Meanwhile Chalce's Medicham has Psybeam (a ranged attack) and Zen Headbutt (a direct head-on attack), and it most likely has High Jump Kick as well, which is also a powerful melee attack. This makes Chalce come across as a more head-on type of commander and strategist, being more direct and confrontational, and simply trying to overwhelm her opponents with as much sheer power as possible.

Meanwhile Coral and Sidian are well established to be a duo. They seem to be the "brawns" of the Explorers: they don't really offer much in the research side of things, but they're seemingly mainly there for their strength as Trainers, and they both absolutely enjoy a good battle where they can go all out and unleash their strength. They often are so eager to fight that they may disobey orders from higher-ups to get involved in the action and have their "fun", to the annoyance of the rest of their fellow admins. They're often brought along by Spinel, Chalce, and Hamber on missions to serve as additional strength and firepower, their battle prowess often helping to take down opponents as they need to.

Meanwhile their main partners, Glalie and Garganacl, complement each other and highlight the contrasts of their characters, and also have an interesting double-edged relationship against Liko and Roy's partners, Sprigatito (now Floragato) and Fuecoco. Coral's Glalie is an Ice-type, while Sidian's Garganacl is a Rock-type, and both are primarily offensively oriented types and heavily based on solid physical matter, with the defensive properties of their types reflecting this, which highlights that both are battle lovers who are all about dishing out the dirt. Coral's Glalie is an Ice-type, which is aggressively glass cannon and offensive, and also very much associated with cold, which highlights her more volatile and aggressive nature in an odd way and also her selfishness. She's very high energy and prone to getting angry over things not going her way. Sidian's Garganacl is a Rock-type which is more slow and durable, and has some resistances to boot, which shows Sidian's more stoic and serious personality and that he's overall much calmer and reserved, and overall relatively affable, but stoic being the key, since he's hard as a rock in a sense.

Coral's Glalie has Blizzard, Ice Spinner, Crunch, and Self-Destruct, the latter being a suicidal move, showing Coral's aggressiveness and her hot temper and tendency to blow up at even the slightest provocation. Sidian's Garganacl has Salt Cure (deals passive damage afterwards), Stone Edge, and Wide Guard, the latter showing his more protective and reserved nature, since he watches over and "protects" Coral in a way.

Meanwhile their partners' types have a two-way relationship with Liko's Grass-type Floragato and Roy's Fire-type Fuecoco, the latter of which are elemental types. Both of them will likely eventually evolve all the way to Meowscarada and Skeledirge, but that's beside the point. Liko's Floragato is advantaged against Sidian's Garganacl, but disadvantaged against Coral's Glalie, meanwhile Roy's Fuecoco is disadvantaged against Sidian's Garganacl, and advantaged against Coral's Glalie, a two way street on all ends. Since a close rivalry and contrast is developing between these two duos in particular, the dichotomy really shines through this here.

---

Thoughts on both of these duos, especially after the recent episodes.

30 notes · View notes

the-broken-truth · 9 months

Text

Missing Piece - Yandere Leona Kingscholar [Part 2]

Summary: Leona closed the business partnership deal with the new company and learned a few new things in the process. Now, he can focus on more important matters.

Broken (Pulling the shirt collar while blushing under her mask): There might be some language in this one that is not something I would usually write, but it fits the theme, so I will wear the Hat of Shame later. Now, let the words weave together.

Tag-List: @vee-love

Leona stood in the middle of the COO's Office with his hands in his pockets while he wanted for her to arrive; the receptionist told him that he was a few minutes early and the COO was currently taking a call with her mother - The CEO of United Industries. United Industries used to be a simple start-up company a few years ago but their message and motto, coupled with their drive to get things done with swiftness and certainty made them liked by everyone and businesses started signing up with them left and right; Leona hated to admit it, but this company radiated an aura that was more peaceful than his Father's Company.

He passed by the break room while being led to the COO's Office and caught a glimpse of it; it was fully furnished with everything a break room needed and even more. There was even a flat-screen television and 2 of the workers - a Wolf Beastman & a Human Woman - were playing some kind of video game while two others were talking between the vending machines, one containing snacks while the other contained drinks, however, they didn't charge money; a simple swipe of an Employee or Guest ID Card allowed anyone to get their treats.

He just stood there looking at the ground, calm upon his face but a storm of emotions dancing in his emerald green eyes. After seven years, he found her again; the one who had consumed his very thoughts since the moment he met her at the festival. Yuu was his world - the only person who understood him and his desires without judging him about them; he wanted her forever but he had to go and mess everything up by telling her to get rid of the symbol of their unity; the child that would grow into the Young Leonis. Leona cracked a smile when a thought crossed his mind.

'Leonis... She wanted to give him my name but made it unique; just like he is. He looks just like me with his mother's eyes and kind nature. My boy...' His hand reached up and grabbed the side of his head gently as he envisioned himself holding Leonis in his arms with Yuu by his side as the 3 of them took a family photo that would be converted into a grand painting to hang in the Kingscholar Estate. That's when the thoughts came back and started to taint his fantasy.

He remembered when Yuu texted him all those years ago and told him that her child would have no knowledge of Leona or his ties to the illustrious Kingscholar Family; which meant that Leonis had no idea that he was a rightful heir to the Kingscholar Family. The anger within Leona kicked up again when he realized that his son - his one and only son - had been robbed of the life he was meant to have as a member of the Kingscholar Bloodline.

He was meant to be draped in silks and sleep under blankets with thousand thread counts.

He should be dining on the finest meats and drinking the purest of juices for breakfast.

He should have been driven around and defended by the best guard while he attended the best possible schools!

He should have been decorated with the finest gems - a crown fit for a prince. He was a Prince!

Leona exhaled as the thoughts slowed down, he lowed his hand when he realized a very critical point, 'I was one the who robbed him of the life he was meant to have.'. He closed his eyes and hung his head in shame before inhaling through his nose and exhaling through his mouth, he opened his eyes and started looking around the office when his green eyes landed on something on the wall behind the COO's Desk.

5 Large Images were hanging on the wall by 4 large embedded nails, and 4 smaller squares were surrounded by a larger square in the center. Leona walked closer to the image without crossing the desk and his eyes widened: He saw Leonis & Yuu in the images taken at different times.

In the upper left corner, there are two people - Leonis and Yuu. The picture seems to have been taken at a party location, as the room is decorated for some kind of celebration. They are holding a large Vanilla Sheet Cake with rainbow sprinkles scattered all over it. Some words are written in blue icing, but it's not clear what they say from the angle of the photo. However, the large candle in the shape of the number 5 placed in the center of the cake suggests that it's Leonis' 5th birthday party. As Leona looks at his son's face in the picture, he is saddened by the fact that he couldn't be there for any of his birthday parties. Leonis looks happy with a wide smile on his face, which breaks his heart.

In the lower left was a single image of Leonis in some kind of Dojo, dressed in a white karate gi with his long hair tied in a back ponytail, his blue eyes narrowed in focus, his lion ears narrowed back, and a fist thrust out as he stood in perfect form. From what Leona could gather, this image was of Leonis' First Ever Karate Class judging by the white belt tied around his waist. Leona smiled at the sight and thought of his son taking up fighting styles as a hobby; the Kingscholar Male smiled at his son's visage in the photo.

The picture in the lower right was of Leonis and Yuu in the kitchen of some house; their house, Leona hoped. They were wearing aprons and their faces were covered in flour along with smiles on their faces as they were rolling out fresh dough with rolling pins; were they making pizza or cookies? What season was this taken in? Could they be making Christmas Cookies?

'Yuu still makes cookies? I love cookies. Now I want cookies. There's a store down the street, maybe I can get some.' Leona was thinking for a while before he shook his head, 'No, it won't taste the same. I want Yuu's Cookies.'.

In the upper right corner, there was a man carrying Leonis on his shoulders. This man had black hair with silver on the sides and blue eyes like Yuu's, but his skin was slightly darker. He appeared to be strong and muscular, with two silver dog tags around his neck shining in the sunlight. The tight black shirt he was wearing showed off his muscles, indicating that he was a man of action. Leona remembered Yuu telling him about her father's military background. Leona looked at the man holding his grandson with a look of pride on his face and felt irritated. That was the look that should only be reserved for him as Leonis was his son, his pride and joy. Despite Leonis being that man's grandson, Leona was eager to have his own son soon.

It was the picture in the center that really broke Leona's Heart. It was the day Leonis was born. Yuu sat in the middle of a hospital bed with a small bundle in her arms; that bundle was the newborn Leonis with his eyes closed, very little hair that poked from under the blue blanket he was wrapped up with and his small ears resting on the top of his head as he slept peacefully. Around the newborn and new mother were surrounded by people - people that Leona didn't know; complete strangers in Leona's eyes but he understood that these people were important to Yuu and he was not there at the moment. He lowered his gaze to the nameplate under the central image and his fist balled up as his eyes narrowed.

Leonis Sato - Lion Strength of the Sato Family

Sato?

Sato?!

He is a Kingscholar Heir!

Leona's teeth locked in a snarl as he looked at the nameplate; he wanted to reach and scratch out the surname before engraving his name over the ruin. Leonis was his son, his flesh and blood; his only heir. Just like Yuu, she was destined to be his from the first moment; he would dream about her taking his last name and becoming one with him entirely. Leona was drifting off into his fantasy world when the door opened and he looked over his shoulder, coming face-to-face with the COO of United Industries.

"Hello, Mr. Kingscholar. Thank you for arriving for our meeting." She held her hand out to him, "I am Marianna Walker - The COO of United Industries."

"Leona Kingscholar - President of Kingscholar Incorparated. A pleasure to meet you, Ms. Walker." Leona said before shaking her hand with a firm hand.

"Indeed. I noticed you looking at the pictures I have on my wall; nine pictures, don't you think?" Marianna asked as she looked over at the images with a smile on her face.

"I was actually more interested in the picture frame - I never saw a shape like that, however, the pictures are nice as well. Relatives of yours?" Leona asked; he had to play his cards right to find out just how the COO knew his son and future wife but he couldn't risk her knowing that he was Leonis' Biological Family; there were too many Madols riding on this deal.

"I suppose you can say that! The boy is my God-Nephew: Leonis! The woman with him is his mother and my God-Sister: Yuu. That little boy is the light of all of our lives and I love watching him grow up." Marianna explained; Leona wanted to glare at her, but he kept a smile on his face. "Oh, dear! We are getting side-tracked! I'm sure you are very busy on this day; let us get on with our meeting! Do you have the contract?"

"Yes, Ma'am." Leona said as he reached into the satchel and withdrew the folder that contained the contact; while Marianna was reading the contract, Leona kept looking at the images behind her head. He needed to get his hands on some pictures; he did have some empty frames he never got around to using.

[After The Meeting (I'm Too Lazy To Write The Meeting)]

"Thank you for your time, Ms. Walker; thank you for agreeing to do business with us. We look forward to future projects." Leona said as he started walking to the door.

"To you as well, Mr. Kingscholar! Have a pleasant day!" Marianna waved him goodbye as he walked out of the office and left the business building. Marianna smiled at her job before her personal phone started ringing, she pulled it out and smiled at the contact before answering her phone before putting it to her ear.

"Hey! What's going on?" Marianna asked.

[...]

"Yeah, I just got done with the meeting! We signed another deal with a major corporation! Things are really looking up for us! I'm so glad the meeting is over, that guy was really intimidating even though he was so kind." Marianna smiled.

[...]

"Yeah! When you are sitting across from a Freaking Lion Beastman from a powerful family like the Kingscholars with nothing but a desk between the two of you, you tend to get the shivers." Marianna said.

[...]

"His name? I believe it was Leona Kingscholar - He's the President of his father's company. Why do you ask? Do you happen to know him?" Marianna said.

[...]

"You went to school with him? Wait, why do you sound so pissed off right now?" Marianna asked.

[...]

"He what?!" Marianna yells before exhaling, "I need the whole story. NOW!"

[With Leona]

"Here is your order, Sir." The barista said as she handed the coffee to Leona.

"Thank you." Leona pulled out his wallet and placed a generous amount of madols into the tip jar before taking his coffee and going to go sit in a booth in a quick corner of the cafe. He looked at the coffee before he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone, he dialed a number and placed the phone to his ear. The call was connected on the 3rd ring.

[Hello?]

"It's me." Leona said.

[Kingscholar? It's been a long time since I've heard your voice.]

"I usually wouldn't, however, I require your services. I need someone discreet and accurate to do a delicate task and you were the first person I thought about." Leona said.

[At least you know greatness when you see it. What's the job, Kingscholar?]

"I found her. After all this time, I finally found her, and I need to collect as much information as I possibly can about her." Leona said.

[Her? Wait, are you talking about Yuu? You found her after all these years?!"]

"Yes, and she wasn't alone." Leona said.

[What? Did she get married?]

"No, she's currently unwed but that is going to change in the future. When I said that she wasn't alone, I was talking about her son. My son. Our son." Leona said.

[What?! She had the kid?! She had a son?! Whoa, I guess that means Cheka has a cousin now! Have you told your family yet?"]

"No, I need to make sure I have what belongs to be back before I even think about bringing them around the rest of the pride." Leona growled.

[Oh... So, what do you need from me?]

"Information. Everything you can find. I want to know where they live, where Leonis goes to school, where Yuu works, who she hangs out with, who my son's friends and teachers are, any possible events or activities he participates in, the location of the Sato Family house, as well as the location of Marianna Walker - she's Yuu's God-Sister and Leonis' God-Aunt. I need everything you can find and I need it as soon as possible." Leona stated his demands.

[You're asking for a lot, Kingscholar.]

"This means a lot to me. I'll pay whatever you want, just do all that you can to get me the information you can get your hands on." Leona said.

[Alright, fine. Give me some time and I will call when have everything for the presentation. Talk to you later, Kingscholar.]

[Call Disconects]

Leona pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at the background of his phone - a picture of himself and Yuu when they first started dating. A smile crept along his face.

"We'll be together again. All 3 of us. I let you both go once before... I will not make that same mistake again." Leona swore as he looked at the photo before sipping his coffee and leaning back in his chair, "Yuu makes it better."

[END]

#twisted wonderland #yandere leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x yuu #leona kingscholar x mc #morden like au #yandere #romantic yandere #platonic yandere

94 notes · View notes

fours-writings · 9 months

Text

more immortal y/n thoughts except it’s basically a direct continuation of my last post

Cw for mentions of blood and bones breaking (whoops sun accidentally breaks your back and not in the sexy way)

it’s a miracle you and moon managed to clean the remaining evidence of his earlier… “fit,” before it began to stain.

you dutifully helped the poor stunned animatronic clean himself as he refused to say another word after his last half-spoken question. his fingers twitched every time you ran the rag over his joints, clenching and unclenching, as if reliving just how easily your neck snapped underneath his gripped.

you didn’t force him to speak. he seemed frazzled as is, and you knew nothing you said would help. even after all this time, you still weren’t the best at comforting people.

however, even as you managed to clean the last visible bit with the rag soaked in bleach that stung your skin and nostrils lightly with each passing second you held it, moon didn’t seem too keen on leaving you just yet.

you expected more questions. horrified looks. guilt.

instead, he looked at you like a blessing straight from the lord.

you knew what moon looked like when he was excited. you observed everything around you almost as much as a machine like he was. mostly a habit stemmed from years of boredom and paranoia.

it was hard to tell whether you wanted to treat it like a fresh breath of air, or wanted to be offended by the fact of it.

you made no comment as you simply returned to the employee’s lounge— entirely empty, considering the lack of human staff in this place and even less of them voluntarily taking night shift for a multitude of reasons —to change into your spare clothes.

moon silently followed, lingering outside the door while you changed, and trailing behind you as you continued your night shift as if nothing happened. you trusted moon would scrub the footage of what just happened, if any of the cameras there were even on.

the next day, you chose to take over a coworker’s shift looking over the daycare. they gratefully let you, muttering something about the daycare attendant being freaky that you knew not to react to.

as you walked in around ten minutes before the daycare closed, you were greeted by a completely clueless sun bounding over to his favorite adult in the pizzaplex.

it was clear that moon had kept last night’s events a secret from his counterpart, and you were thankful for that. while you were fully prepared to give sun some half-assed explanation and comfort, it was obviously much more preferable to just not have to do any of that.

the day was slow compared to what you’ve heard happens in the daycare. only a couple children say hello to you, and the rest are occupied by sun’s usual entertaining antics. the animatronic even tries to tempt you into joining a couple games, to which you stubbornly deny each offer, much to his dismay.

as you dutifully watch him do his job, your eyes probably not blinking as you zone out a little, you notice something strange.

a little speck of something right on the rim of his little tutu.

specifically glowing a soft gold.

hm. so you didn’t do as good a job as you thought you did.

there was a pang of shame that you automatically stamped out with ease. didn’t matter. it wouldn’t stand out against his normal color scheme, and would probably go away in a few days. maybe a week at most.

the thought leaves your mind as quickly as it came to it, and you spend the rest of your day staring into space as the daycare attendant herds all the children around like hyperactive sheep.

eventually, your shift comes to a close as the daycare does as well.

you make no moves to leave, though, seeing as your next night shift starts in about an hour or so.

sun’s quick to run over to you as soon as the last child is gone, kneeling to your height in front of the desk like a dog eager for praise.

he babbles on about how the children were so nice today and he even got a few new pictures from the kiddos— apparently one was a liiiiiittle disturbing, but he didn’t mind because it was from his little superstars! —and that he just wanted to talk to you a little before he started cleaning up.

at one point, he asked for a quick little hug, to which you, of course, complied.

you stood up, and before you could each register it, he’d scooped you up and tugged you tight against his chest, arm wrapped around you like a vice.

during your earlier days here, he’d been very hesitant to hug you in fear of you getting mad or accidentally hurting you.

you reassured him you gave no fucks if he wanted to be touchy, and by now he took your word for it.

you barely noticed when his grip started to tighten, nor when pressure began to build up at the middle of your spine where his arms wrapped around your abdomen, and neither did sun.

however, you and him both noticed when his grip tightened a little too much, and a sickening snap rang out.

instantly he drops you, apologizing profusely and tentative pressing at your back for injuries, while you simply groan and hold your back as if it was just some simple back pain.

“No— nope, Sunny, it’s okay,” you reassured him, gently shooing away his hands, “you just popped my back a little, that’s all.”

a blatant lie. your back had visibly shifted a little, maybe a few segments dislocated or something. you definitely couldn’t turn on your spine at the moment.

“B-b-but it was so LOUD!” he protested in his usual worry.

“Yeah, my bones are loud,” you chuckled nonchalantly, “watch.”

your press your hands to where your spine had been shifted, some of the bone trying to poke through your skin. if you weren’t, well, you, you probably would be suffering quite the amount of agony and internal bleeding right now. but you were you.

carefully, you press against the upper half of your back, until another crack sounds out, and your spine is back together. you could already feel the internal wound healing beneath your flesh, warm and fuzzy like it had been reattaching your head to your neck.

“See?” you hum, doing a little spin in front of sun, “It’s all cool. You did nothing wrong.”

he clearly didn’t believe you, but you also knew he still thoroughly enjoyed the reassurance. his rays spun once over, and he let out a nervous chuckle.

“O-Oh, um, o-okay,” he reluctantly chirped back, “a-are you suuure you’re okay, though? You don’t, u-um, need a, like, a m-massage or anything..?”

you hold back a soft snicker as his fans start up in his flusteredness.

“I am fine, Sunshine,” you say with a slight smile, your grin widening as his fans speed up further. you walk over and pat him on the back, “now get to cleaning before the lights turn off.”

he immediately perks up at the mention of cleaning.

“OH— right, right, yes!!” he chirps, already sprinting back over to where the main mess of the daycare was, “Gotta clean up, clean up, clean up!”

as he goes on mumbling about how messy it was, you sit back down in your chair, waiting patiently for the clock to reach that fateful time.

the ache in your back had already faded, and so had the warmth. the chair beneath you leeched off what little heat you had, and you started to wish you’d bought that fluffy jacket you saw a few weeks ago.

you were looking forward to seeing moon, but at the same time not.

you didn’t know if his casual attitude from before was thanks to whatever was the robotic equivalent of adrenaline or was actually genuine, and you weren’t exactly looking forward to finding out.

#reader insert #daycare attendant x reader #moon x reader #sun x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #immortality #drabble #tw injury #tw bones breaking

106 notes · View notes