#Legal Database Provider

[reasonsforhope]

"Claire Cao was only a senior in high school when she saw a vital need in her community — and filled it. 

In 2024, the teenager spent her time outside of school volunteering at Blanchet House, a Portland-based nonprofit that serves people experiencing homelessness through food donations, clothing drives, and mental health assistance programs. 

As she logged hours as a Blanchet House student ambassador, Cao soon realized how difficult it was for community members to keep track of shelter openings, rotating food service programs, and available mental health resources. 

“During one afternoon meal service, I met Dano, an unhoused man who shared his struggles with accessing basic services like food and shelter,” Cao said in a recent press release. 

“Left disconnected from essential services, Dano described his struggles of not knowing where to go or which shelters had available beds.”

Combining her love for technology, law, and public policy, Cao pulled available resources into a database and created the ShelterBridge app, which connects users to shelters and services in their area. 

“ShelterBridge wasn’t simply inspired by Dano — it was inspired by the realization that access to resources is a fundamental need that we, as a community, can do a better job of providing,” Cao emphasized. 

“I wanted to use my skills to build something that could bridge that gap, ensuring that no one falls through the cracks simply because they don’t know where to turn for help.”

In addition to linking users to services in their area, the app also has a rating system similar to Yelp. This system allows people to leave star ratings and reviews on shelters, food services, hotlines, and legal aid. 

The ratings not only help users differentiate between services in their area — but they also provide invaluable feedback to the nonprofits, organizations, and government programs that service them. 

“We've been asking for an app like this for a number of years now,” Scott Kerman, executive director of Blanchet House, told Portland news station KGW.

In mid-January, Cao won the 2024 Congressional App Challenge in Oregon’s First District for her work with ShelterBridge — outcompeting 12,682 student submissions. 

Since the app first launched, Cao and her growing ShelterBridge team — which includes enterprising high schoolers and college students from across the nation — have expanded services to California, Philadelphia, Seattle, Los Angeles, and North Carolina. 

“Claire and the team she’s working with deserve all the credit in the world because they're doing something that frankly nobody else has really stepped up to do,” Kerman said. 

“To have the kind of technology that we use every day with hotels and other kinds of reservations [to] help people get into safe, supportive and dignified shelter would be a game changer for our community.”

Although the app started as a class project, Cao said ShelterBridge’s success has far surpassed her expectations. 

“I do hope to keep it up,” she told Oregon outlet KOIN 6 News, as she looked ahead to college and beyond. “I’ve made a lot of efforts to expand it to other cities as well — and it’s something I can mostly do from a computer or my laptop at home.”

-via GoodGoodGood, March 21, 2025

[theonion]

In an effort to curb unauthorized traffic to adult websites within the state, Indiana lawmakers passed new legislation Thursday requiring all potential viewers of online pornography to register as sex offenders before they could access sexually explicit material. 

“This law will ensure that no resident of Indiana encounters harmful, X-rated content on the internet without first providing proof that they are legally considered a sexual predator,” said bill co-sponsor Sen. Liz Brown (R-Fort Wayne), explaining that under the new measure an unclosable pop-up window would send users to a third-party website where they would be prompted to verify their permanent status on the sex offender database, waive their right to a trial, and submit to a mugshot before any graphic content could be displayed. 

Full Story

[divadepreshawn]

𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤

Summary: A case brings the past back

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader

The team was gathered for the briefing, a somewhat complex case because it involved important people, the suspect was targeting specific people, guards, lawyers and judges.

Hotch enters the room and sits next to Rossi “Garcia, what do we have?”

“Two guards and a lawyer were killed with a point-blank shot in a 5-day interval, a judge was attacked but survived, he is in the hospital recovering from surgery” She hands a folder to each of them.

“He doesn't seem to enjoy it, he's not an exhibitionist�� Emily comments analyzing the photo of the crime scene.

“And he's not even targeting the number of victims, he has a specific target” Reid points to the name of the place where the lawyer was killed “This place is busy, he could have killed more than twenty people, but he didn't”

Morgan flips through the files “He's targeting authority figures, maybe a resentful ex-colleague or ex-inmate, any suspects?”

“The victims’ families don’t know if they had enemies. As for former inmates, the list is huge. About 1.46 million people have been arrested in the last 5 years in the United States, and only ⅓ of them were for minor crimes. About 10,345 people were released after their unjust imprisonment was confirmed,” Garcia says as he shows a slide with the data.

“Given the way the victims are killed, I believe it’s revenge. We should focus on unjust imprisonment.” Rossi thinks for a moment. “Do we know anything else?”

“Of the 10,345 people unjustly imprisoned, 2,300 people were released three weeks before the murders began. Of those 2,300, 1,000 people were imprisoned due to psychiatric reports. The families all went to the same company. It redid all the reports and proved that they were forged.”

“Which company?” Hotch asks, looking up from the report.

Garcia hands him a sheet of paper “Themis, it’s a multidisciplinary company, lawyers, psychologists and psychiatrists work there. After they close the case, the names of those involved are omitted from the database.”

Rossi nods “I’ve heard of this company, they’ve worked on important cases, the big judges and the best law firms only work with them, they also provide advice to some lawyers.”

Reid closes the report “I read some articles by the founder about the State×mental health, she has really interesting points about the way society views crimes and how our morals affect judgment.”

Hotch looks at Spencer, confused “Founder?”

“Yes, there aren’t many pictures of her on the internet, but she wrote many articles. She said that society fails to spread information about mental disorders and that the State also fails to consider this when judging cases. She founded this company so that everyone could have access to legal assistance when it comes to mental disorders. Which fits with the name of the company, since Themis is the goddess of law in Greek mythology. Daughter of Uranus and Gaia, the deity was the guardian of men’s oaths and the law. She was often invoked in trials, which is why she was often seen as the goddess of justice-”

Morgan touches Spencer’s arm, a silent and gentle warning that he was rambling. Spencer stops talking, mumbling a small apology.

“Okay, JJ and Rossi are going to the hospital to talk to the judge, Morgan and Prentiss are going to the crime scene, Reid and I are going to the company to see if we can get the list without needing a warrant, we leave in thirty minutes.” Hotch closes the report and puts it in his briefcase before leaving the room.

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Being a successful woman had its price, a very high price to be honest, you worked so hard to have your space and be respected in a sea of ​​men. In the beginning it wasn't easy, you worked to your limit, for renowned lawyers, judges, big law firms, at the same time you continued studying and doing research to improve yourself and be able to open your own company.

You were analyzing a report when Ella, your assistant, entered your office.

"Y/N?" She asked hesitantly

"Yes?" you hummed in response without looking away from the computer.

"Don't freak out now but there are two FBI agents wanting to talk to you"

Ok, now you were paying attention, you stop what you were doing and look at her, your head starts to go over your whole life, did you forget to file your income tax? Did someone in your family get arrested? Oh my god, did you kill someone and you don't remember?

"To me? Did I do something?" you ask panicking.

She looks at you confused “I don’t know, did you?”

“No,” you shake your head as you stand up “Did you do something?”

“What? I didn’t!” She shakes her head with wide eyes.

You sigh trying to calm yourself down “I’m going now.”

You head towards the mirror in the corner of the room, fixing your skirt and hair slightly. If you’re going to get arrested, you should at least look nice.

As you leave the room, you can see Ella talking to two men. They have their backs to you. You glance between them quickly. One of them has a sweater over his shirt. That’s cute, you think. Your gaze turns to the other. He’s wearing a suit, and he looks expensive from the way the fabric hangs on his body.

“What do I owe you for the honor of your visit-” you stop talking abruptly when your eyes land on them and you recognize one of them.

“Aaron? Aaron Hotchner?” You smile. What were the chances?

He frowns for a moment as he studies you, his eyes lingering on your sun-shaped necklace, you can see the understanding dawning in his eyes.

“Y/N?” He asks in surprise

You laugh as you nod, who would have thought you would end up bumping into your ex-boyfriend from college.

You were serious, you dated for practically four years of college. You fell in love with him because, well, he was gorgeous, smart and funny, a stark contrast to the scowling man you saw a minute ago. But to be fair he looked even more handsome now, God is that fair?

You can see a slight smile playing on his lips, though it soon returns to its previous expression.

“It’s been years since I’ve seen you, how are you?” He asks softly.

You smile “I’m fine, how have you been? The last time I heard from you you were still a lawyer”

“I think I make more of a difference in the FBI” he shrugs not looking away from yours.

Yes, you know, he is the most selfless person you have ever met.

You nod, holding his gaze.

“Uh-huh,” the man next to him cleared his throat, catching his attention. “Do you know each other?” He looked confused.

You and Aaron exchange a brief look, you let him answer.

“We met in college” your tone was firm, not leaving room for questions.

Auth, just acquaintances? That hurt. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Oh sorry, I’m Y/N” you offer a soft smile.

“Cough the CEO” Ella says while faking a cough.

You scold her with your gaze turning to them.

“I’m Dr. Reid” he has a shy smile on his lips “I’ve read many of your articles on Psychology in the legal world, the one of yours about the death penalty is really interesting, I guess I never thought about it from that angle, you did a good job with the humanization of the victim. And the name of the company? Really great idea, Themis? Although I think you could call it Athena too-” Hotch lightly pats your arm.

“Spencer”

He stops talking, blushing slightly and mumbling “sorry”.

You smile gently at him “It’s okay, I’m glad someone understood the meaning behind the name.”

He gives a slight nod, looking more relaxed.

“So, why are you here?” You ask curiously, looking between them.

Hotch hands you a folder with three photos.

“We have a murder case and we believe it may be a revenge-motivated crime, we need the list of the 1,000 you helped free. Do you know any of them?”

You look at the photos but don’t recognize any of them. “I don’t know them, I wish I could help but I can’t give out my clients’ information.”

He sighs, taking the folder when you hold it out to him “Y/N, this is serious, I understand that there is ethical confidentiality but if you don’t help more people will get hurt”

Would you be a really bad person if you admitted that you didn’t pay attention to what he said? God, why did he look so attractive? Was it his clothes, his hair, his tone of voice, or the lines on his face? Maybe it was all of them-

“Y/N? Did you hear what I said?” He scans your face for a sign that you understand the gravity of the situation.

“I..” you sigh “Ella?”

“Yes?” She stands up from her desk.

“Give Dr. Reid the information he needs.” She nods, guiding Spencer to her desk.

Hotch gives Spencer a slight nod for her to go with Ella, and then turns his gaze back to you.

“Thank you, that really will help.” He crosses his arms.

Your gaze immediately drops to your arms.

Why did you break up again?

“No problem.” You give him a toothless smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s good to see you too.” He hesitates for a moment. “I’m… sorry about the way things ended. I was an idiot.”

Oh, yes, you just remembered why you broke up.

You loved him, but you had learned that love alone wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship. It took understanding, effort, and reciprocity. You knew that Aaron had difficulty expressing his feelings, a reflection of the traumas he carried since childhood. You tried to be patient, to fill the gaps with gestures and unspoken words, but in the end, you felt like you were carrying the weight of the relationship alone.

But that’s in the past. You were in your twenties. What did you really know about relationships? You’ve gotten over it.

He hesitates for a moment, looking down at his shoe. “I wish I could go back and fix things.”

Your heart skipped a beat. What is he trying to insinuate?

He turns his gaze to you “I know I shouldn’t ask you this but, would you like to go out on Saturday? I know a coffee shop near downtown that has that sweet bread you liked.”

Your heart melts, he still remembers.

Maybe it’s worth the risk.

You smile “I’d love to actually.”

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[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 3)

—

Tw: Vivisection mention, torture mention (GiW agent receiving), me not actually knowing how telegram works

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually.

(Pt. 1 here) (Pt. 2 here) - (Pt. 4 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It’s an average, ordinary afternoon in Gotham, and Jason is in hell.

Specifically, Jason is in hell because he’s been researching the GiW for the last week or so, ever since a cryptic message from Scarecrow of all people.

He still hasn’t gotten anything substantial out of it that Scarecrow hadn’t already provided. Most location data had been previously scrubbed from the database, weaponry details were apparently all stored physically, and the experiment logs seemed to be only accessible from within one of the bases, whose locations Jason did not have.

Apparently Babs and Tim were having similar issues with gathering information. He had sent a copy of the files over to them in a moment of weakness, but they were having the exact same results as him.

To make things worse, the GiW was more active than they had been previously, combing through Crime Alley and the rest of Gotham tirelessly. At least they weren’t harassing him anymore, he thought, but now he had even less of a clue what they wanted.

And to top it all off, the Joker had escaped Arkham a few days prior to Jason receiving Scarecrow’s note, and he still hadn’t done anything. That could only mean that he was planning something big, which meant more grief for Jason, because the clown was obsessed with him.

So yes, Jason wasn’t having the best week.

He got up from his computer, stretched, and walked over to the window.

The sky was Gotham’s usual grey, clouded with a toxic miasma made up of traditional pollutants and the aftermath of gas attacks both, which could generously be called ‘smog.’

The streets seemed busier than usual, or maybe that was just because Jason was having a hard time keeping his eyes focused.

With blurry vision and a dull ache in the back of his head, Jason paced through his apartment, going through everything he knew.

The GiW, or Ghost Investigation Ward, were part of a secret government project having to do with ‘ecto-entities,’ which were mostly made up of ghosts.

The GiW was able to kidnap and steal away anyone who was ‘ecto-contaminated’ to be dissected, and it was completely legal.

According to the non-censored patrol reports he was given, Jason himself was considered ecto-contaminated. So were Bruce, Damian, Steph, and Cass.

There were also several rogues that were in the same boat, but their names had been redacted, presumably by Scarecrow. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but he guessed it was either for leverage or privacy. Knowing Crane, it could be both.

Anything useful about the GiW seemed to be stored physically within their compounds, or on an operating system that couldn’t be accessed outside of certain areas.

Anything useful about ghosts was conveniently removed by Scarecrow.

And, lastly, he knew from capture logs that they had numerous captive ghosts which were definitely being experimented on. One of these ghosts was named Daniel, last name redacted, and had been turned over by his parents in return for allowing them to run their own experiments on the boy.

From what he could tell, it had been around fifty two days since he had been turned in.

Fifty two days of experimentation and dissection.

Jason had to find him.

But first, he had to find the locations of the GiW bases, and plan his entrance carefully. He couldn’t let them get away because of a simple mistake.

The only location data he had been able to find was on a picture of the boy, Daniel, a picture of a vigilante in a red suit, and a quick note left about Daniel which hadn’t been transferred into the main database.

The note was…

Jason had been around crime for a very, very long time. He understood it intimately, in a way most people would never hope to achieve.

He understood hatred, too.

And yet, the words in that note were almost incomprehensible to him.

They were mockery of a child in pain. A child that was not seen as human. A child that was seen as a threat, a monster.

The man had detailed the security surrounding the child being cut back. Apparently, the kid had some sort of sonic scream. They were removing the muzzle that inhibited it because he had screamed himself hoarse, and he couldn’t make a sound anymore.

He also mentioned that the kid was cut open at least once a day, sometimes multiple times. He was opened up, played with, and sewn back shut.

The man joked that they should just put a zipper on him, so they wouldn’t keep wasting their stitches.

Jason really, really wanted to kill that guy.

The metadata on the note traced back to a newly-bought building in Gotham’s financial district, while the photos both came from Amity Park, Illinois.

Amity Park, Illinois did not exist in any official capacity.

Tim, who had taken the Batplane to check the precise location listed in the metadata, had reported that there was a town there after all, and it was on complete media lockdown from the rest of the world. He hadn’t even been able to use Bat, Justice League, or Young Justice channels to message anyone outside of the city until he left.

Jason had checked the building in the financial district firsthand, and found that the man who had submitted the note had done so while resting on a patrol of the city. He seemed to go there often to avoid his superiors, and Jason found it easy enough to get the drop on him the third time around.

His advanced interrogation techniques hadn’t been enough to get the man to name any locations. Worse, the man definitely recognized Red Hood, and would definitely tell the rest of the GiW about what had happened as soon as he left.

So, Jason did something about that. He couldn’t kill him, unfortunately, so he did the next best thing.

The GiW sent him to a public hospital within a few hours of finding him with shattered hand bones, broken arms, and a throat with near-permanent damage. The man wouldn’t be able to speak for a month at least.

He might never write again.

Jason, having read the note over and over until the words stained the backs of his eyes, thought it was the least he deserved.

Jason sighed, stopping his pacing. He wasn’t getting anywhere with this. If anything, working himself up was only going to lower the chances of him magically coming to a realization about where the kid was or what in the hell was going on.

He walked into the kitchen, popped some leftovers into the microwave, and started them up.

Once they were done, he brought them out to his desk, intending to eat as he continued to work on the GiW case.

When he saw his screen, he froze.

Telegram had been opened to a new chat with someone he had never messaged before.

TooFine: who are you?

TooFine: why are you looking into the giw?

The messages were a couple of minutes old, probably sent while Jason was spiraling pacing. He just stared at the screen, dumbstruck.

Shakily, he responded.

RedDead: How the hell did you get my contact info

Whoever was on the other side of the screen paused for a second. Jason considered sending a quick text to Babs to tell her what was going on, but he decided that he could handle this by himself.

TooFine: got it from the backdoor I put into the giw system.

RedDead: Shit

TooFine: ok your turn

TooFine: why r u looking into the giw? seriously man

RedDead: I don’t have a single reason to tell you. Give me one and I might answer your questions

TooFine paused again. Clearly they both had issues trusting someone over the internet, and rightfully so. What they had both admitted to doing was incredibly illegal, and if someone turned them in, they would be in deep shit.

TooFine: ive been trying to take down the giw since it was created. I can help u if ur honest with me

RedDead: Oh yeah, because no one has ever lied to another person on the internet before

RedDead: But fine

RedDead: I’m looking into them because they’ve been shadowing me for over a month at this point, among other reasons

TooFine: other reasons?

Jason sighed. He shouldn’t have added that. He knew that the other guy would ask, but he said something anyways.

RedDead: They’ve got a kid. I don’t like it when people hurt kids

TooFine: Danny? he’s alive?

RedDead: From what I can tell

So he knew the kid. Or, at least, he was pretending to. It would make sense for him to be cagey about his intentions, and for him to be desperate enough to reach out.

TooFine: oh my god

TooFine: do you know what city? fuck

TooFine: fuck fuck fuck

TooFine: I need to find him man please

RedDead: He’s somewhere in Gotham

RedDead: I’ve been trying to find him for a week now but no dice. They keep everything important on separate servers

TooFine: listen man you’re a good hacker but you’re not as good as me. you need my help if we’re gonna find Danny

RedDead: Okay, what are you trying to get me to agree to?

TooFine: i’m coming to gotham and we’re going to meet up

RedDead: Hell no

RedDead: Stranger danger

TooFine: if I tell u who I am will you say yes

RedDead: ?? How am I supposed to verify if you’re telling the truth

TooFine then sent him what seemed to be a selfie. Jason’s jaw dropped at the kid’s sheer audacity.

RedDead: There’s something seriously wrong with you

TooFine: my name is Tucker Foley. i live in amity park. i’m in 10th grade

RedDead: ???????? WHAT THE HELL

TooFine: i can send u my address too

RedDead: PLEASE DON’T??

RedDead: WHAT’S YOUR FUCKING DAMAGE? DON’T DOXX YOURSELF TO ME

RedDead: WHAT IF I WANTED TO KILL YOU OR SOMETHING? WHAT IF I WAS A FED

TooFine: i have to take that chance.

TooFine: Danny is my best friend. they’ve had him for over a month and no one’s doing anything to help. mr. Lancer was the only one who cared and he gave up after they blackmailed him

TooFine: they’ve had him for OVER A MONTH. I THOUGHT HE WAS DEAD.

TooFine: Sam and Jazz and I are coming to gotham and we’re going to find him no matter what it takes

TooFine: you have to help us

Jason considered, for a second, the choices he’d made in his life that had led up to this moment. He also considered, if he was in this kid’s position at his age, if he would be doing the same.

He decided to throw the kid a bone.

RedDead: [4735.jpg]

TooFine: HUH

RedDead: I’m guessing you know me

TooFine: RED HOOD??????

RedDead: No I’m just a very dedicated LARPer

TooFine: am i gonna die for Danny right now

RedDead: If I were literally anyone else, probably

RedDead: But no, you’re not. I’m gonna help you find your friend

TooFine: your username is red dead and you’re. yeah ok

RedDead: Oh come on, it’s funny

TooFine: Danny would love you

RedDead: So Danny clearly has great taste in jokes

TooFine: nope. literally loves puns and wordplay

RedDead: Nevermind

They both paused for a second. Then, Jason had a thought.

RedDead: Wait you’re in the 10th grade and you’re hacking into government databases?

TooFine: please don’t tell my parents.

RedDead: And how are you supposed to explain a sudden vacation to Gotham to your parents?

TooFine: wait so you’ll help me?

RedDead: I really hate to say it but I’m not the best at hacking, and my usual help is busy trying to track down the Joker. So, yep, we’re teaming up

TooFine: LET’S GOOOOOO

RedDead: God. I’m asking a 16 year old to help me take down a government agency and save another 16 year old

RedDead: I feel like the bat

TooFine: oh my god this is awesome. Danny is gonna flip when the actual real-life Red Hood comes to save him.

RedDead: I already regret this

TooFine: too late.

TooFine: btw do u have any place for 2 teenagers and 1 adult teenager to stay in gotham? preferably without dying but yknow.

Jason groaned. He was really, really gonna regret this, and he knew it.

Still, the alternative was some overeager kid dragging two other idiots to Gotham to find their friend and getting themselves killed. At least this way he’d have help, and damn good help at that.

He really was turning into the Bat, wasn’t he?

—

[crowboy-bebop]

U.S.-based friends! For no particular reason, I'm compiling a list of resources that might be helpful to people in the coming four-ish years or so.

Medical Resources

Medical Information Removed By The Trump Administration

Jessica Valenti's Substack - a collection of the pages removed from the CDC's website. Includes documents on contraception and reproductive rights, sexual health, and intimate partner violence.

HRT

Trans Harm Reduction - website for HRT information, such as source testing, information on safe injection practices and disposal, and resources for sourcing injection suppplies. They also share links to healthcare resources.

DIY HRT: Everything I Can Legally Tell You by Lily Alexandre - information on self-medicating without a prescription. If this is unavailable, PLEASE let me know.

Reproductive

Plan C - an online database of telehealth providers, community networks, and websites that provide abortion pills by mail

Legit.Clinic - an easy way to check if a clinic is actually a crisis pregnancy center; uses Reproaction's database listed below

Crisis Pregnancy Centers

These are anti-choice organizations, usually run by or in connection to churches, who use misleading tactics and fearmongering to scare people out of seeking abortions. They often advertise things like "abortion counseling" (which is really just talking people out of abortion), and abortion pill "reversal." Their main purpose is to either scare you out of seeking an abortion, or to stall you long enough that the process to get an abortion is more difficult.

Reproaction's Anti-Abortion Pregnancy Center Database - an online database of anti-abortion "crisis pregnancy centers" that rely on misleading information to talk pregnant people out of getting an abortion

Expose Fake Clinics - an online resource for leaving reviews of crisis pregnancy centers and their misleading claims

Name and Gender Changes

Federal

SSA Sex Designation Change Questionnaire (archived) - as of Jan 26th 2025, this page has been taken down on the official Social Security website. That does NOT mean you cannot change your gender marker, it is just being purposefully obscured. One thing to note; even before the current administration, there was no option for an unspecified gender designation, so X will not be an option unfortunately.

Social Security Card Replacement - this is the form you will need to fill out in order to change your name or gender designation.

State

A4TE's ID Documents Center - state-specific information on how to change your name and gender marker on ID documents like birth certificates, driver's licenses, etc. Also has information on passports, but that is unfortunately outdated as of January 26 2025. (thanks, @wannabeast13!)

Miscellaneous

r/DataHoarder - a subreddit dedicated to archiving digital information. They've been heavily focused on documenting information that has been removed due to the Trump administration.

This is by no means an exhaustive list. I'm compiling resources as I find them. If you have anything you think should be added, send me a message!

Lastly,

It's Okay To Take A Step Back

Don't let the continuous onslaught of bad news send you into a doom spiral! Take a deep breath. Get some water. Log off, get together with friends, join or start local communities. The world isn't all bad, even if it feels like it is. The most important thing right now is that we stay together and not let the bad overwhelm us into apathy.

[ronearoundblindly]

I am sorry but I'm going to need a Ransom story with this prompt. It can be RoaR or a one-off, he can love it or hate it in this space, he can see it over Reader's shoulder on the computer screen, your choice!

o.0 oh boi oh boi oh boi! Fall Vibes but it's gonna be my summer challenge submission to @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar, featuring the flavors Cookies and Cream (soulmates) and Rocky Road (rags to riches) with the topping Oreos (marriage of convenience (reluctantly)). Also my second entry for @stargazingfangirl18's Birthday Bonenanza, featuring a babe in love and cranky about it + "can you just...hold me please?"

For Show Ransom Drysdale x poor!soulmate!reader

Summary: Ransom hates that you--his soulmate and wife--are nothing like him.

Warnings for smut and Ran's a**hole brain (rude, nasty thoughts that he barely even believes). Classic Lexi--this is cheeky, y'all, but you know it's because I can't help myself... MINORS DNI. Find all-age friendly fic on my Light Masterlist. WC 2.1k

Ran didn’t believe in love to start, but this is fucking ridiculous. Opposites attract? Get wrecked, asshole. He’s keeping opposites on the other side of the house. It’s not far enough.

It’s standard practice for the confirmation of matching soulmarks to act as a de facto marriage contract—common law, if you like,—and Ransom Drysdale fought tooth and nail to make you prove you had his name on you. He needed to see it with his own eyes or fuck that shit.

His is obvious; he can show it off. In fact, Ran is surprised by how long it took you to come forward, considering his family and status, considering his lifestyle of being very visible.

But no, he had to wait for a fucking database to pop out record of his match from your healthcare provider, and he had wait for that because the government knew about your health…because they know such things…about people who need their fucking money. The registration of soulmarks puts the financial responsibility on the soulmate if they end up having the means.

Now Ran is responsible for you, a woman he made lower the front of her panties in open court to reveal his goddamn name in his own goddamn handwriting imprinted right above her goddamn cunt, and suddenly it became his cunt, his problem, his responsibility.

You’re not even fun. You had no money and didn’t care to have any, so you moved your few, ratty belongings into his home, replacing nothing, offering nothing in return for his—well, in return for every fucking thing he has now being yours, too. It’s so fucked.

You don’t want to show off, and he has no intention of showing you off. He can’t be seen with you, not without the proper clothes or jewelry, and you refused to get them. Instead, Ransom leaves you alone in the house, doing whatever he wants, whenever he wants, as always. He won’t talk to you because he just gets furious every time. He’s not going to have deep conversations about the state of the world, though he might have one social justice issue he can fight for: the mother-fucking law that made you his wife without question.

Ran slams the kitchen cabinet storing all-white, matching stoneware mugs when he notices what’s missing: your single, sad, flea market mug. It’s clay so it always looks dirty, and he hates it.

He lightly punches his own neck in irritation.

He didn’t stand a chance fighting the marriage, not with your name in deep, port red letters creeping up his throat, higher than any turtleneck he’s ever owned. Coupled with his legal name resting snuggly beneath your pubes, it was obviously, technically accurate that you’re soulmates. When was the last time someone challenged that system, he thinks. That might be a better use of his money than—

Where are you anyway?

For all his annoyance, he hasn’t set eyes on you for days.

His house is large enough (and he spends so much time anywhere else) that you have your own room, which you didn’t question, and the kitchen is easy enough to share when one of you eats out with other people (as he does two to three times a day). You get the slightly bigger and more formal living room while Ran gets the den with the big TV. Really it’s been the perfect system for almost forgetting you exist.

He pours tea into his clean, white mug and leaves said big TV fairly loud on some program he wasn’t paying attention to, leaning over the granite countertop to see if he can spot you from this angle.

No luck.

He steps closer, sipping.

A little closer, more sipping, a purposeful smack of his lips to grab your attention if you are just around the corner.

There are two openings, both far larger than doorways, to the living room, each through the central hall. When he doesn’t immediately see you, he steps to the farther opening. What the—

What’d you do to his couch?

Is that every single pillow and blanket from your side of the house?

Did Yankee Candle Company throw up in here?

What, the fucking fireplace wasn’t enough ambiance for you? You had to make some sort of nest with his stuff? And there’s that ugly-ass mug, no coaster, on his super-expensive, reclaimed hardwood coffee table.

A pillow shifts.

No, not a pillow; it’s your back, and when you shift again, Ran sees one of the plush throw blankets slink farther down your bare skin. It’s the largest swath of your body he’s ever seen.

You lay with your arms folded, peering out the windows behind the couch, and you still haven’t fucking noticed him.

He huffs before realizing he isn’t listening to the faint TV anymore, but when he ticks his head, he sees your TV isn’t on either.

“”I think of nothing but you as I fall asleep at night”—” Ran hears a woman’s voice fake a deeper tone before switching to normal “—Javier says, pulling her soft curves into his hard body—”

You sigh dreamily and wiggle on the cushions. The blanket slides over the swell of your ass.

Ran stops moving mid-sip of tea.

“”Please, my darling, let me have you—“ this is fucking terrible, he thinks “—as only a lover can.””

Alright, now Ransom is just sad. You’re naked in his living room, rubbing your thighs together and listening to an erotic novel on your phone.

“Chloe felt his digits dance across her clavicle, his eyes enchanted by her heaving bosom…”

Go out to a club or restaurant with him? No. Wear nice clothes he could buy you? Nope.

“”Javi,” she gasps, distracted by his rough palm groping her breast hungrily, “I can’t believe you want me.””

Ran is going to fucking gag at the whining appall in the narrator’s voice.

Why listen to this awful shit instead of show off him as your husband? From the quick shiver racing down your spine and the curl of your toes where they hang over the cushion’s edge, it’s because you’re fucking horny for it.

Good god, how low are your standards?

He stalks forward, feet hitting the floor hard until he reaches the plush rug.

Startled, you peer over your shoulder at him, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights, and you begin scrambling to recover yourself.

Ran puts his cup down by yours. “Don’t move,” he orders, and to his surprise, you obey, keeping you head turned his direction and sinking back into the pillows.

“”How could you doubt? From the moment I met you, I adored you.””

He swivels to face the same direction as you, reaches out his hand and mime the stroke he’s contemplating tracing over your curves.

“”I’m yours,” Chloe breathes, Javier’s growing member signaling his desire against her silk-covered core.”

Ran finally bends until the tip of his middle finger grazes the inside of your thigh.

As he drags it over one cheek and down the other, you whine and push your ass toward his hand.

That’s…not bad, all things considered. You are his wife, after all, and you clearly want to be fucked. He won’t argue that having some other woman’s name scrawled on him hasn’t limited his game for quite a while. Financially independent or not, when a pussy is presented to him, Ransom will say ‘yes.’

He stops noticing the audio from your phone and just dives in, no sentiments or kind words of his own. He simply unbuckles his belt, pops the button of this jeans, and rips that zipper down before teasing your folds to find enough slick at your entrance to swirl around. He spreads you and your wetness with purpose. Each second that passes drives Ransom a little bit more insane.

Impatient, strung out like a virgin on prom night, he rushes to shove his pants out of the way and kicks one knee up between your legs, his other foot still on the floor. He pumps his fingers inside you until he’s knuckle-deep and nearly dripping, manhandling your hips to the right height to sink his tip into you.

Ran groans at how fucking good you feel. He’s probably just desperate. He’d be excited about any ol’ means to come right now.

He snaps his hips in small thrusts until his whole length glides in and out in seamless stimulation. You’ve buried your face in the pillow, so he can’t hear if you make any noise. He can, however, see your hands scratch at the upholstery and clench into fists. He can see you deepen the arch of your back, angling his dick to fuck just slightly down through your channel. The pressure squeezes the spongy head of his cock like a vice. He’ll never say it out loud, but your pussy is fucking perfect. God fucking dammit.

Ransom relentlessly drives into you, catching the sideview of your breasts bouncing each time his thighs slap yours. He smacks your ass once just to see if it jiggles for him, and that’s when your hand snakes to disappear between your legs. He expects you’re going for your clit which is good because he’s about to get off and get lost, but instead, he feels your soft fingers cup his balls.

He’s so enamored by the sensation that he switches to tiny pulses deep in your cunt while your hand wraps and rolls his sac gently. Twitching and tensing, Ran unabashedly moans until your walls constrict around his length.

He’s got to make you do that again.

Ransom collapses forward to lean over you, his own hand diving to find your clit, resting his palm right over your mound and soulmark. Every inch of his body burns hot with need. He humps wildly, resting his chin over your shoulder.

“”I don’t care how, Javi, just stick it in there. I need you. I need you so badly…””

“Jesus Christ,” Ran growls, “are they still not fucking?”

A giggle bursts from your lips, a sweet, happy sound he’s never heard from you before, and you reach for him. Your palm lands on his soulmark, your fingers curling to scratch the hairs at the nape of his neck, and there’s…there’s…

He can’t comprehend how your body fits his so well. He can’t reconcile this sudden swell of obsession in his gut for you. He’s enveloped in a binary system of souls, gravity tugging at that connection between you.

Ran doesn’t believe in love or destiny. He refuses. He believes in pleasure and perception, in accumulation and ownership.

The only thought left in his static-filled head is mine, mine, mine, mine.

He falls over the edge first, a satisfied shout punctuating each spurt he plants within you, furiously working your messy clit and kneading one breast in his free hand until he feels that squeeze again, and again, and again, dying to a flutter just as your shared cum leaks out around his cock.

By this time, Ran is panting and resting a sizable portion of his weight on you, knees knocked loose in his onslaught, pushing you both flat to the chaise cushion, feet dangling off the end.

You still hold each other’s mark in a comforting palm.

He’s speechless as the room fills with heated love declarations amidst passionate sex and bad dialogue. Ran tries to catch his fucking breath. He’s glad you don’t speak either.

Everything about his life—his past, his present, his future—sits utterly raw in front of him, and he can’t cope.

He makes the mistake of peeling his body off yours, releasing you and dislodging your hand. The cold emptiness which immediately sweeps over him is sickening, and Ran barely waits for you to roll onto your back before he wedges himself between your legs again, instinctually laying on his side, pressing his sweater-clad shoulder against your sopping folds just so he can rest his soulmark right on top of yours.

Euphoria returns to his body and mind, thick like honey and all-consuming.

He doesn’t want to admit it. He doesn’t want to talk about. He doesn’t want to live a moment without you.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.

Mercifully, the audio speaks for him.

“”Can you just…hold me please? That was…that was…””

“”So intense,” Javier rumbles, “so beautiful.””

Ransom, the preening trust fund baby, has finally found something all his own, something he doesn’t want to share, something shown only for him.

He refuses, however, to call it ‘love’…

…yet.

[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: I'm fine.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Olivia Troye at Olivia of Troye:

What happened to individual privacy in America? If you’ve been reading my work, you know I’ve been raising alarms about the national security implications of this administration’s overreach for months, starting with what looked like a politically motivated purge at the NSA. That was the first clue. Now, we’re seeing the broader plan come into focus: a vast federal database powered by Palantir, bringing together the private records of millions of Americans. Yes, Palantir, the company founded by Peter Thiel, a major Trump donor and MAGA megaphone. The same Palantir that’s been embedded within our intelligence community for years, developing tools to track terrorists and build connections across massive datasets for counterterrorism efforts. Tools that, when used with oversight and restraint, helped save lives. I know because I’m familiar with them, given I spent most of my career in national security. But those same tools, in the wrong hands, can become the backbone of a mass surveillance regime. And that should make all of us, regardless of our political affiliation, uncomfortable.

Palantir didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It has spent nearly two decades embedding itself within the U.S. government, from the Pentagon to the CIA, from the IRS to ICE, which recently awarded the company with a $30 million contract to target and also track the self-deporting of illegal aliens (the company has been on the books for ICE since 2009). Are they tracking all the U.S. Citizens and people legally residing in the United States, too, that ICE is “mistakenly” picking up during their raids? Perhaps Palantir could provide a better data system so the Trump Administration doesn’t lose track of the children being separated from their parents this time around…but I digress. Palantir has been a partner in navigating the post-9/11 security state and, over time, evolved into the go-to contractor for everything from border enforcement to COVID-19 vaccine distribution to battlefield intelligence, securing over $2.7 billion in U.S. government contracts since 2009.

Throughout the past week, reporting has surfaced that the Trump Administration has tapped Palantir to build what basically amounts to a national surveillance platform, one that likely links together Americans’ health data, financial transactions, education records, immigration history, and law enforcement files across agencies, into one master system. This is not speculation. This is happening right now under the direction of an administration that is openly working on punishing political enemies, attempting to control dissent, and bypassing legal checks. Let me put this in plain terms: This is how authoritarian regimes take root–not overnight, but bit by bit under the guise of "efficiency," "safety," or "patriotism." They collect the data, connect the dots, and then target the people. And here's the twist that should stop everyone in their tracks: Even Trump’s own base is sounding the alarm. MAGA influencers and far-right allies are now openly asking if Trump has turned on them. Longtime loyalists described the Palantir national citizen database plan as Orwellian, questioning why this administration, their administration, is building a database that could be used to track Americans like political enemies.

Olivia Troye wrote a column on how Palantir will play Big Brother and target your freedoms.

See Also:

For Such A Time As This (Andra Watkins): State-Sanctioned Moral Values

[oviraptoridae]

research & development is ongoing

since using jukebox for sampling material on albedo, i've been increasingly interested in ethically using ai as a tool to incorporate more into my own artwork. recently i've been experimenting with "commoncanvas", a stable diffusion model trained entirely on works in the creative commons. though i do not believe legality and ethics are equivalent, this provides me peace of mind that all of the training data was used consensually through the terms of the creative commons license. here's the paper on it for those who are curious! shoutout to @reachartwork for the inspiration & her informative posts about her process!

part 1: overview

i usually post finished works, so today i want to go more in depth & document the process of experimentation with a new medium. this is going to be a long and image-heavy post, most of it will be under the cut & i'll do my best to keep all the image descriptions concise.

for a point of reference, here is a digital collage i made a few weeks ago for the album i just released (shameless self promo), using photos from wikimedia commons and a render of a 3d model i made in blender:

and here are two images i made with the help of common canvas (though i did a lot of editing and post-processing, more on that process in a future post):

more about my process & findings under the cut, so this post doesn't get too long:

quick note for my setup: i am running this model locally on my own machine (rtx 3060, ubuntu 23.10), using the automatic1111 web ui. if you are on the same version of ubuntu as i am, note that you will probably have to build python 3.10.6 yourself (and be sure to use 'make altinstall' instead of 'make install' and change the line in the webui to use 'python3.10' instead of 'python3'. just mentioning this here because nobody else i could find had this exact problem and i had to figure it out myself)

part 2: initial exploration

all the images i'll be showing here are the raw outputs of the prompts given, with no retouching/regenerating/etc.

so: commoncanvas has 2 different types of models, the "C" and "NC" models, trained on their database of works under the CC Commercial and Non-Commercial licenses, respectively (i think the NC dataset also includes the commercial license works, but i may be wrong). the NC model is larger, but both have their unique strengths:

"a cat on the computer", "C" model

"a cat on the computer", "NC" model

they both take the same amount of time to generate (17 seconds for four 512x512 images on my 3060). if you're really looking for that early ai jank, go for the commercial model. one thing i really like about commoncanvas is that it's really good at reproducing the styles of photography i find most artistically compelling: photos taken by scientists and amateurs. (the following images will be described in the captions to avoid redundancy):

"grainy deep-sea rover photo of an octopus", "NC" model. note the motion blur on the marine snow, greenish lighting and harsh shadows here, like you see in photos taken by those rover submarines that scientists use to take photos of deep sea creatures (and less like ocean photography done for purely artistic reasons, which usually has better lighting and looks cleaner). the anatomy sucks, but the lighting and environment is perfect.

"beige computer on messy desk", "NC" model. the reflection of the flash on the screen, the reddish-brown wood, and the awkward angle and framing are all reminiscent of a photo taken by a forum user with a cheap digital camera in 2007.

so the noncommercial model is great for vernacular and scientific photography. what's the commercial model good for?

"blue dragon sitting on a stone by a river", "C" model. it's good for bad CGI dragons. whenever i request dragons of the commercial model, i either get things that look like photographs of toys/statues, or i get gamecube type CGI, and i love it.

here are two little green freaks i got while trying to refine a prompt to generate my fursona. (i never succeeded, and i forget the exact prompt i used). these look like spore creations and the background looks like a bryce render. i really don't know why there's so much bad cgi in the datasets and why the model loves going for cgi specifically for dragons, but it got me thinking...

"hollow tree in a magical forest, video game screenshot", "C" model

"knights in a dungeon, video game screenshot", "C" model

i love the dreamlike video game environments and strange CGI characters it produces-- it hits that specific era of video games that i grew up with super well.

part 3: use cases

if you've seen any of the visual art i've done to accompany my music projects, you know that i love making digital collages of surreal landscapes:

(this post is getting image heavy so i'll wrap up soon)

i'm interested in using this technology more, not as a replacement for my digital collage art, but along with it as just another tool in my toolbox. and of course...

... this isn't out of lack of skill to imagine or draw scifi/fantasy landscapes.

thank you for reading such a long post! i hope you got something out of this post; i think it's a good look into the "experimentation phase" of getting into a new medium. i'm not going into my post-processing / GIMP stuff in this post because it's already so long, but let me know if you want another post going into that!

good-faith discussion and questions are encouraged but i will disable comments if you don't behave yourselves. be kind to each other and keep it P.L.U.R.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Humans are not perfectly vigilant

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then PROVIDENCE (Apr 12), and beyond!

Here's a fun AI story: a security researcher noticed that large companies' AI-authored source-code repeatedly referenced a nonexistent library (an AI "hallucination"), so he created a (defanged) malicious library with that name and uploaded it, and thousands of developers automatically downloaded and incorporated it as they compiled the code:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

These "hallucinations" are a stubbornly persistent feature of large language models, because these models only give the illusion of understanding; in reality, they are just sophisticated forms of autocomplete, drawing on huge databases to make shrewd (but reliably fallible) guesses about which word comes next:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

Guessing the next word without understanding the meaning of the resulting sentence makes unsupervised LLMs unsuitable for high-stakes tasks. The whole AI bubble is based on convincing investors that one or more of the following is true:

There are low-stakes, high-value tasks that will recoup the massive costs of AI training and operation;

There are high-stakes, high-value tasks that can be made cheaper by adding an AI to a human operator;

Adding more training data to an AI will make it stop hallucinating, so that it can take over high-stakes, high-value tasks without a "human in the loop."

These are dubious propositions. There's a universe of low-stakes, low-value tasks – political disinformation, spam, fraud, academic cheating, nonconsensual porn, dialog for video-game NPCs – but none of them seem likely to generate enough revenue for AI companies to justify the billions spent on models, nor the trillions in valuation attributed to AI companies:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

The proposition that increasing training data will decrease hallucinations is hotly contested among AI practitioners. I confess that I don't know enough about AI to evaluate opposing sides' claims, but even if you stipulate that adding lots of human-generated training data will make the software a better guesser, there's a serious problem. All those low-value, low-stakes applications are flooding the internet with botshit. After all, the one thing AI is unarguably very good at is producing bullshit at scale. As the web becomes an anaerobic lagoon for botshit, the quantum of human-generated "content" in any internet core sample is dwindling to homeopathic levels:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/14/inhuman-centipede/#enshittibottification

This means that adding another order of magnitude more training data to AI won't just add massive computational expense – the data will be many orders of magnitude more expensive to acquire, even without factoring in the additional liability arising from new legal theories about scraping:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/

That leaves us with "humans in the loop" – the idea that an AI's business model is selling software to businesses that will pair it with human operators who will closely scrutinize the code's guesses. There's a version of this that sounds plausible – the one in which the human operator is in charge, and the AI acts as an eternally vigilant "sanity check" on the human's activities.

For example, my car has a system that notices when I activate my blinker while there's another car in my blind-spot. I'm pretty consistent about checking my blind spot, but I'm also a fallible human and there've been a couple times where the alert saved me from making a potentially dangerous maneuver. As disciplined as I am, I'm also sometimes forgetful about turning off lights, or waking up in time for work, or remembering someone's phone number (or birthday). I like having an automated system that does the robotically perfect trick of never forgetting something important.

There's a name for this in automation circles: a "centaur." I'm the human head, and I've fused with a powerful robot body that supports me, doing things that humans are innately bad at.

That's the good kind of automation, and we all benefit from it. But it only takes a small twist to turn this good automation into a nightmare. I'm speaking here of the reverse-centaur: automation in which the computer is in charge, bossing a human around so it can get its job done. Think of Amazon warehouse workers, who wear haptic bracelets and are continuously observed by AI cameras as autonomous shelves shuttle in front of them and demand that they pick and pack items at a pace that destroys their bodies and drives them mad:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

Automation centaurs are great: they relieve humans of drudgework and let them focus on the creative and satisfying parts of their jobs. That's how AI-assisted coding is pitched: rather than looking up tricky syntax and other tedious programming tasks, an AI "co-pilot" is billed as freeing up its human "pilot" to focus on the creative puzzle-solving that makes coding so satisfying.

But an hallucinating AI is a terrible co-pilot. It's just good enough to get the job done much of the time, but it also sneakily inserts booby-traps that are statistically guaranteed to look as plausible as the good code (that's what a next-word-guessing program does: guesses the statistically most likely word).

This turns AI-"assisted" coders into reverse centaurs. The AI can churn out code at superhuman speed, and you, the human in the loop, must maintain perfect vigilance and attention as you review that code, spotting the cleverly disguised hooks for malicious code that the AI can't be prevented from inserting into its code. As "Lena" writes, "code review [is] difficult relative to writing new code":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

Why is that? "Passively reading someone else's code just doesn't engage my brain in the same way. It's harder to do properly":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773780355708764665

There's a name for this phenomenon: "automation blindness." Humans are just not equipped for eternal vigilance. We get good at spotting patterns that occur frequently – so good that we miss the anomalies. That's why TSA agents are so good at spotting harmless shampoo bottles on X-rays, even as they miss nearly every gun and bomb that a red team smuggles through their checkpoints:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

"Lena"'s thread points out that this is as true for AI-assisted driving as it is for AI-assisted coding: "self-driving cars replace the experience of driving with the experience of being a driving instructor":

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773841546753831283

In other words, they turn you into a reverse-centaur. Whereas my blind-spot double-checking robot allows me to make maneuvers at human speed and points out the things I've missed, a "supervised" self-driving car makes maneuvers at a computer's frantic pace, and demands that its human supervisor tirelessly and perfectly assesses each of those maneuvers. No wonder Cruise's murderous "self-driving" taxis replaced each low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged technical robot supervisors:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

AI radiology programs are said to be able to spot cancerous masses that human radiologists miss. A centaur-based AI-assisted radiology program would keep the same number of radiologists in the field, but they would get less done: every time they assessed an X-ray, the AI would give them a second opinion. If the human and the AI disagreed, the human would go back and re-assess the X-ray. We'd get better radiology, at a higher price (the price of the AI software, plus the additional hours the radiologist would work).

But back to making the AI bubble pay off: for AI to pay off, the human in the loop has to reduce the costs of the business buying an AI. No one who invests in an AI company believes that their returns will come from business customers to agree to increase their costs. The AI can't do your job, but the AI salesman can convince your boss to fire you and replace you with an AI anyway – that pitch is the most successful form of AI disinformation in the world.

An AI that "hallucinates" bad advice to fliers can't replace human customer service reps, but airlines are firing reps and replacing them with chatbots:

https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20240222-air-canada-chatbot-misinformation-what-travellers-should-know

An AI that "hallucinates" bad legal advice to New Yorkers can't replace city services, but Mayor Adams still tells New Yorkers to get their legal advice from his chatbots:

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2024/03/nycs-government-chatbot-is-lying-about-city-laws-and-regulations/

The only reason bosses want to buy robots is to fire humans and lower their costs. That's why "AI art" is such a pisser. There are plenty of harmless ways to automate art production with software – everything from a "healing brush" in Photoshop to deepfake tools that let a video-editor alter the eye-lines of all the extras in a scene to shift the focus. A graphic novelist who models a room in The Sims and then moves the camera around to get traceable geometry for different angles is a centaur – they are genuinely offloading some finicky drudgework onto a robot that is perfectly attentive and vigilant.

But the pitch from "AI art" companies is "fire your graphic artists and replace them with botshit." They're pitching a world where the robots get to do all the creative stuff (badly) and humans have to work at robotic pace, with robotic vigilance, in order to catch the mistakes that the robots make at superhuman speed.

Reverse centaurism is brutal. That's not news: Charlie Chaplin documented the problems of reverse centaurs nearly 100 years ago:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Modern_Times_(film)

As ever, the problem with a gadget isn't what it does: it's who it does it for and who it does it to. There are plenty of benefits from being a centaur – lots of ways that automation can help workers. But the only path to AI profitability lies in reverse centaurs, automation that turns the human in the loop into the crumple-zone for a robot:

https://estsjournal.org/index.php/ests/article/view/260

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/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

--

Jorge Royan (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Munich_-_Two_boys_playing_in_a_park_-_7328.jpg

CC BY-SA 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/deed.en

--

Noah Wulf (modified) https://commons.m.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Thunderbirds_at_Attention_Next_to_Thunderbird_1_-_Aviation_Nation_2019.jpg

CC BY-SA 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/deed.en

[saywhat-politics]

WASHINGTON (AP) — The Trump administration’s move to classify thousands of living immigrants as dead and cancel their Social Security numbers is an escalation of the president’s crackdown on people who were legally allowed to live in the U.S. under programs instituted by his predecessor.

The move will make it much harder for affected immigrants to use banks or other basic services where Social Security numbers are required.

The White House says that “by removing the monetary incentive for illegal aliens to come and stay, we will encourage them to self-deport.”

However, the affected individuals newly added to the Social Security Administration’s “Death Master File” are in the country legally. Immigrant advocates say the administration is committing “digital murder.”

Here’s what we know about the administration’s plan to note some immigrants as dead in Social Security data:

Who is being affected?

A Trump administration official said the SSA moved roughly 6,300 immigrants’ names and Social Security numbers to a database that federal officials normally use to track the deceased after the Department of Homeland Security identified them as temporarily paroled aliens on the terrorist watch list or with FBI criminal records.

The administration has not provided evidence of this assertion.

The SSA maintains the most complete federal database of individuals who have died, known as the Death Master File. It contains more than 142 million records going back to 1899.

In its latest move, the White House has taken to referring to it as the “Ineligible Master File.”

[piratefishmama]

Nest | Part 17

A Steddie A/B/O ficlet

It’d been a week.

An entire week since Steve had last seen Eddie. He’d holed up in his apartment, spent the majority of his forced holiday time curled up in bed, or camping out on the sofa watching reruns of bad television. Robin had told him mid-way through the week that they weren’t in trouble, Wayne Munson didn’t intend to press for any complaints or legal action, but she’d heard nothing from Eddie.

Steve wasn’t in trouble, Owens wasn’t in trouble, he already had his next shift lined up at the end of the following week, already a new patient on the books to be seen to although he swore to himself that he wouldn’t be remotely as hands on as he’d been with Eddie. He’d do the minimum just like everyone else, he’d be there when he was needed, would provide care as required, but that was it.

He’d already had two complaints from other tenants shoved under his door about the stench though. Depressed alpha wasn’t a good smell, for Steve, people compared it to mould spores. Like walking into a bakery after a month of it being closed, only nobody had taken the produce away leaving everything to rot.

And the smell spread.

It didn’t matter that the owner of the building had boasted proper padding and ventilation in the ‘Alpha Safe’ apartments before he’d moved in, the smell seeped into every single corner, settled into fabrics, snuck under the front door and out into the hallway. He wanted his Omega.

He didn’t even really know his omega, but he wanted him. He’d made promises, promises he couldn’t keep with Eddie so far away. Promises he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to keep and wasn’t that just a terrifying notion. Eddie was alone again. His heat would come again, he’d be alone for it, there was no way he’d be able to get a clinic trip for free again. Freebies happen once and only in dire situations, after that you have a month to sort yourself out an alpha to join you, or you’re on your own.

It didn’t matter if a week of that month was spent recovering from an unsuccessful heat, you had a month, and Steve was well aware of the ticking clock, he spent most of the time just, looking at it on the wall. Ticking away, precious minutes going by tick by tock. It was ridiculous, he’d barely thought about Eddie Munson for years until he walked into that clinic and all of a sudden he was all Steve could think about. He pined, he yearned, he ached to see him, to make sure he was okay, and yet he couldn’t make himself take that trip to the trailer park where he knew Eddie lived.

It was an invasion of privacy, he’d already broken most of the policies at Nest, he didn’t want to break the last one too, even if he didn’t get Eddie’s address from the database at the clinic, even if he already kind of knew where Eddie lived beforehand.

Eddie deserved his privacy, he deserved his space to heal, to figure out what’d happened on his own time, to get himself and his head clear, to—screw it.

Steve had waited an entire week, he was going to get himself up, get himself showered, dressed, apply patches to his scent glands, he was going to open his front door and— stop dead in place because stood there, with a hand raised, poised to knock, was one Eddie Munson, his big brown doe eyes wide in surprise. “Uhm…” Eddie dropped his hand “hey, Steve, can… can we talk?”

“Eddie…” he rocked forwards, hands flexing as if to reach out, only to catch himself at the last minute, releasing a pained little whine from his throat, he wanted to touch, wanted to hold, to bury his face into all that hair and just breathe he was so close, so, so very close and every inch of Steve’s very being screamed at him to pull Eddie closer, to hold him as tightly as possible and never let him go again, but he couldn’t, he couldn’t, he wasn’t allowed, he didn’t have permission, he didn’t—

“It’s okay, alpha… you can touch, it’s okay” the dam broke in an instant, the second those consenting words reached his ears, he was wrapping Eddie up in his arms and holding him as tightly as he could, face buried into the side of his neck, arms squeezing him tight, if he could get any closer, if they could merge into one being, he’d do it. “Christ, big boy” Eddie huffed into his shoulder, even as he curled his own arms around Steve, even as he buried his nose into the fabric of Steve’s sweater and breathed deeply, letting himself be held.

Steve whined, squeezing him to his chest, desperate to smell him, but unable to, the Omega had patches on, hiding his scent from the world. Fuck he hated those blasted little things. “How are you here?”

Eddie eased back, forcing Steve to loosen his grip just so Eddie could look at him face to face “Buckley came by the trailer… can… can we go inside?” Robin. You scheming, rule breaking, beautiful human being. “We can talk in the hallway if you want but I’d rather—”

“No! Yeah, uhm. Yes, come in, sorry.” He stepped aside, motioning with his hand to let Eddie in, if he could think about anything other than the fact that Eddie was there, maybe he’d have felt self-conscious, maybe he’d have worried about the mess that’d built from him just wallowing, but no, he was just glad Eddie was there. No longer drenched in the sweet smell of heat, but still everything Steve could ever want.

He was back to his old self, leather, ripped denim, his rings clunky on his fingers, he didn’t look like an omega and likely sure as hell didn’t act like one either.

He was still the most beautiful thing Steve had ever seen in his life. Maybe that was the rose tinted glasses, Steve didn’t care. Eddie was there, in his living room, making himself comfortable on the couch, seemingly uncaring about the smell.

“You can close the door, Steve, I’m okay.” Right, he’d been holding it open. He closed it, they were together. In the same room. Eddie had closed himself in with Steve voluntarily.

Honestly he could just cry. Eddie was there, he was safe. He was okay.

“Eddie I— I didn’t—”

“Didn’t hurt me, I know, Steve. I know you spent the whole night holding me while I slept, making sure I was okay. I know. I know you’re a good Alpha Stevie, I know.”

“You… you know?”

“Mmhm, Buckley. I mean… I kind of figured, once my head cleared up a little, nothing felt different and I wasn’t in any pain, which… I figured I probably would have been had you—y’know, but Robin came by with a tape from your boss. It just confirmed what I figured out myself. I’d have come sooner but… well, cramps. Can you sit down?” Steve startled into action, quickly sitting himself down in his arm chair, opposite where Eddie had sat on the couch to give him some space. “Look… I uh… I know… I know things were said at the clinic, and like… I get that you had a job to do, and that included making me feel better an all that shit, so—if—if you want, I can just—just forget that you said anything, y’know? Just… I don’t expect anything from you, I mean… You were just doing your job, an I was super inappropriate with you like, the whole time, the shit I said—I—I’m sorry dude, I—I wasn’t in my right mind an I know you were probably just bein nice an I appreciate that—”

“Eddie, what the hell are you talking about?”

“You said you wanted to spend my next heat with me, right? An uh… other stuff…” Stuff that’d made his knees weak when he’d remembered it. When the memories of Steve so close, his firm body pressed so tightly against his, when he’d remembered everything, when it’d all slammed back into his brain at breakneck pace leaving him horny and breathless, desperate for something thicker than his own fingers, endlessly frustrated that he didn’t have anything close to what he needed. “But I figured that was probably just to make me feel better or some shit, an I get it, I get that, I mean… there’s no hard feelings, I don’t expect anything from yo—”

“Eddie, do you want me?”

“What?” The poor Omega struck just a little stupid by the abrupt question.

“Simple question” Steve slipped from the arm chair, lowering himself down to his knees in front of his Omega, he reached both hands up to cup those perfectly soft cheeks, in awe of how beautiful Eddie was up close, the way those plush lips parted ever so slightly to breath a little heavier, the way his beautiful doe eyes widened, chocolate brown disappearing as black pupils blew wide, locked on Steve, the way his cheeks warmed under Steve’s palms. He only wished he could smell him. Wished Eddie hadn’t come out wearing those blasted patches. “Do you want me?”

“If… If I say yes will you finally kiss me?” There was only one way Steve could possibly answer that question, and that was by closing the gap between their lips, finally claiming the very first of many promised kisses still to come.

Part 19 (The End)

[democracyunderground]

March 13 (Reuters) - A U.S. judge has ordered Elon Musk and his Department of Government Efficiency to turn over a variety of records and answer questions describing their efforts to slash federal spending. Wednesday night's decision by U.S. District Judge Tanya Chutkan in Washington, D.C., came in a lawsuit by 14 Democratic state attorneys general against Musk, DOGE and Republican President Donald Trump.

The states argued that Musk violated the Constitution by wielding power that only officials confirmed by the U.S. Senate can exercise under the Appointments Clause, and sought materials from him through a process known as discovery.

Chutkan, an appointee of Democratic President Barack Obama, said her order focused mainly on who at DOGE was making cost-cutting decisions and how far they could go.

"Defendants argue that the 'inner workings of government' are immaterial to an Appointments Clause claim," she wrote. "The court is not convinced, but that is a legal issue appropriate for resolution after fulsome briefing.

"At this stage," she added, "it is sufficient that plaintiffs' discovery requests intend to reveal the scope of DOGE's and Musk's authority."

The U.S. Department of Justice, which represents the defendants, did not immediately respond on Thursday to a request for comment.

Chutkan limited discovery requests to material concerning agencies, employees, contracts, grants, federal funding, legal agreements, databases and data management systems that involve or engage with the 14 states as well as entities they operate or fund.

She rejected the states' request to obtain sworn testimony through depositions, and said her order does not apply to Trump.

Republican and Democratic administrations have long resisted efforts to force top White House advisers to provide court testimony or information they consider privileged.

Musk and DOGE have until April 2 to comply with Chutkan's order.

The lawsuit sought to bar DOGE from accessing information systems at several government departments and firing federal employees or putting them on leave.

[cameoamalthea]

Show Pin Lee as a Lawyer

I've seen some criticism of how Pin Lee is depicted in the show because she/they is not being portrayed as a badass lawyer like she/they is in the books. (she in books/they in show).

I do not understand this criticism, as there is nothing in the situation that can be addressed with lawyering or legal skills at this time.

What is Pin Lee supposed to do as a lawyer?

We know there is no faster-than-light communication. The only way to contact anyone is to send an emergency beacon through the wormhole, which will prompt the company to send a retrieval. There is no way to send mail or e-file anything.

There is a LOT Pin Lee can do once they're off the planet.

Identify and sue the third party, both PresAux and DeltFall have a LOT of claims (if they want to make extra money they could offer to represent DeltFall as well provided there are no concflcts or they waive any conflicts, I don't see any conflicts, depending how many parties were at DeltFall and what a Class is in this world, you might have grounds for a class action)

Sue the company for contributory negligence if it was their fault; it was so easy for a third party to sabotage the company's systems and data

Sue the company for hiding the third party's existence.

Potentially sue the company for failing to discover the alien remnant things since the company mapped this planet, and sold rights, and it's illegal to exploit Alien Remnants, so that should have been disclosed, or possibly the whole thing taken off the market for survey,s depending on if the whole planet is now quarantined/worthless.

Obtain legal ownership of Sec Unit

(Mensah said Murderbot would be free to do what it wants, the easiest way to do that would to legally buy it as opposed to stealing it, so does the rental contract allow them to buy their SecUnit? If not would the Company be willing to sell the SecUnit as part of a potential settlement with the Company for the above speculative claims.

Furthermore, since they have grounds to sue the Company, they can likely can get a court order to get all the data SecUnit has since they will need that for the lawsuits against third party and company (legal action to preserve records, so that it is not wiped).)

There is a lot Pin Lee can do once they can sue about it/send demand letters/notices, etc.

All of this is speculative based on a hypothetical legal system with hypothetical laws, theories, duties, and procedural avenues, which we know nothing about. I can't say what exact claims exist because we don't have enough information.

However, what we can assume is that taking any legal action is not something you can do currently while on a remote planet with no means of outside communication.

Lawyers are like Combat Units, hired guns, but a lawyers weapon is the pen, legal practice is writing. On a planet where you cannot contact anyone there is not legal recourse until you get back from that planet. (They can access any legal databases stored on the Company's satellites and begin drafting things - I guess, though I don't think that would be entertaining to watch - also they don't even know all the facts yet).

(( Disclaimer: This is not legal advice; I'm a lawyer, not your lawyer))

[mariacallous]

It only took five months, multiple lawsuits, and an assist from his Republican pals on the North Carolina Court of Appeals, but it looks like Jefferson Griffin has successfully managed to steal a state supreme court seat from Justice Allison Riggs.

Griffin, a hard-right judge currently on the state court of appeals — yes, the very court that just handed him a victory — got 65,000 legally cast votes thrown out last week. One of the judges in the 2-1 majority ruling also ran a joint GOP election campaign with Griffin and other court of appeals candidates. Being buddies with Griffin didn’t seem to strike that judge, Fred Gore, as anything that would have warranted recusal because GOP judges no longer care about anything as trivial as conflicts of interest.

Those 65,000 voters now have only 15 days to confirm their voting eligibility. If they don’t, their votes no longer count. But this isn’t just a victory for Griffin. It’s also a victory for conservatives who, mimicking Donald Trump’s spurious challenges to Joe Biden’s 2020 win, no longer acknowledge or respect election outcomes if they lose.

The steal

Let’s get this out of the way: there is no dispute whatsoever that Riggs beat Griffin in the election for a seat on the North Carolina Supreme Court. Period. Riggs’s victory was narrow — only 734 votes — but that victory was confirmed by two recounts. So Griffin had to take another approach, best described as “if you can’t beat ‘em, sue ‘em.”

Griffin’s legal theory behind getting tens of thousands of votes invalidated is equal parts complicated and ridiculous. His argument is that those 65,000 people were never eligible to vote. North Carolina law requires voters to provide driver’s license numbers or the last four digits of their social security number when registering. Per Griffin, any voter registration form missing that information means that person was ineligible to vote. For many of those voters, they did supply that information when registering, but for whatever reason, it wasn’t properly entered into the state’s database.

More importantly, even if that information was missing because the voter never supplied it, the state had already determined those people were eligible to cast votes. The majority’s decision reaches back in time to overrule the state’s determination and then punish voters for the error. Of course, these voters did not know there was any issue with their registration because they were allowed to vote!

The majority opinion is steeped in the language of right-wing voter suppression, saying “the inclusion of even one unlawful ballot in a vote total dilutes the lawful votes and ‘effectively ‘disenfranchises’ lawful voters.” So one unlawful ballot disenfranchises voters, but throwing out tens of thousands of votes does not. Got it.

The court of appeals decision also ignored the biggest thing undermining Griffin’s theory: after years of trying, conservatives finally got a photo ID requirement passed. So, those 65,000 voters? Most of them showed an approved form of photographic identification when they cast their vote. There’s no way to argue that those people cast fraudulent ballots, given they had to prove their identity at the polls.

Instead of acknowledging that inconvenient truth, the majority fixates on voters who aren’t required to provide the same sort of photo ID — military and overseas voters.

The North Carolina General Assembly adopted different procedures for military and overseas voters and did not apply the photo ID requirement to them.

As Court of Appeals Judge Toby Hampson’s dissent explains, both the Uniformed and Overseas Citizens Absentee Voters Act and the Uniform Military and Overseas Voter Act have model procedures intended to be adopted in all states so that those voters aren’t subject to a patchwork, shifting set of requirements. The court of appeals decision essentially rewrites the law, imposing the photo ID requirement on those voters without any legislation to that effect. So, all those voters who followed existing North Carolina law are now punished for not following the law the court just invented.

It’s especially galling that Griffin’s post-election challenges are similar to pre-election ones where the GOP did not prevail. Republicans tried to disenfranchise the same overseas voters Griffin now challenges. They also tried to remove 225,000 registered voters from the voter rolls because their registration form lacked a driver’s license or the last four digits of a social security number. Those challenges were rejected in part because the GOP brought them too close to the election. But apparently it’s perfectly fine to bring them afterward.

If either Griffin or his friends on the court of appeals were genuinely concerned about the legality of those 65,000 votes, the ballots should be thrown out entirely. Instead, Griffin has challenged them regarding his race against Riggs.

That’s part of what makes Griffin’s efforts, and the court rewarding those efforts, so egregious and cynical. If the argument is that these voters were not eligible to vote and the majority’s ostensible concern for the sanctity of the ballot box is so great that they’re banging on about the perils of “even one unlawful ballot,” it’s unclear why that wouldn’t apply to all other races.

Even if the theory here is that those 65,000 votes weren’t enough to swing any other statewide election result or even a congressional district, what of state-level races? State House and Senate districts are small, and a few thousand allegedly ineligible votes could possibly flip them. But everyone knows that would be an absolute nightmare to address. It would require adjustments to dozens of races, a complicated cascade of changes that may or may not invalidate other election results.

Fighting uphill

What happens next is a bit complicated. The appellate court ruling gives voters 15 business days to fix their ballots by providing the missing registration information or a photo ID. Since voters were already required to provide photo ID to cast a vote, it’s an especially cynical move to throw out those ballots as ineligible, then turn around and say that if a voter now shows up with a photo ID, it’s suddenly fine.

Of course, there’s no chance that 65,000 people will be able to fix their ballot. Some may simply not be paying attention, some might be unable to make the in-person trip that fixing requires, and some may have died since the election. Also, the challenged ballots are mostly in Democratic-leaning counties, so the more of those voters who fail to cure their ballots, the more likely it is that Griffin will win.

Riggs is planning on appealing the decision to the state supreme court. That court is stuffed with right-wingers, though, including Chief Justice Paul Newby. Newby is friends with Griffin, helped promote Griffin’s 2020 run for the appellate court, and his wife has donated to Griffin’s campaigns. Since Riggs has said she would recuse herself from any decision, that leaves six justices, five of whom are Republicans, deciding her fate.

You might have just done a little back-of-the-envelope math here and figured out that this election didn’t, and could never have, flipped control of the state supreme court. If Riggs prevails, the court would still be tilted 5-2 in favor of the GOP. So this entire fight has not been to preserve control of the court but just to ensure that a Democrat isn’t reelected.

Besides appealing to the state supreme court, Riggs can also continue to pursue the fight in federal court, which has been her preferred approach all along. The federal court stepped aside to allow the case to run its course in the state courts, but as Riggs notes, these ballot challenges implicate the federal right to vote, federal laws regarding military voters, and federal equal protection guarantees.

If this ruling holds up on appeal, expect to see a lot more of these sorts of post-election challenges. It’s not that such challenges are particularly rare or inherently suspect — Trump’s 2020 efforts notwithstanding — but that this particular one hinges on invalidating ballots that were legally cast. Put another way, Griffin succeeded in changing the rules not midgame but literally when the game was already over. Nothing will stop the GOP from doing this again and again and again, making a mockery of elections and injecting confusion into results.

For conservatives, those things are features, not bugs. They’ve been trying to undermine confidence in elections for years, and what do you know? They’re succeeding.

[quitealotofsodapop]

That would happen if... in Peach Soup, the Meng Po Soup did more than just erase the memory? After all, it is menat to help with the reincarnation process by reverting a soul back to its blank self... what it interacts weirdly with Wukong, and instead of finding a full-grown but still young enough to be a possible teen or early twenties monkey with no memory cradling a newborn... Pigsy found an actual toddler with a newborn?

Ooooo...

Wukong struggles and chirps as his memories flutter away to the Underworld (Scroll of Memory gotta store past life data somewhere), too focused on the crying infant before him to notice that his own hands are getting smaller and smaller...

Pigsy just slams on the breaks when he sees two tiny furry lumps on the side of the road. His brain tries to assure him; its just cats, maybe a dog, maybe just a fur coat.

He finds a terrified toddler monkey carrying a newborn barely smaller than itself.

Can wild macaques be ginger? He's pretty sure they can but - oh no wait, it's wearing ragged clothes too big for it. It's two lost demon babies. This has "trouble" written all over it.

Pigsy scoops up the two screeching/chirping cubs in their red blanket-thing and just books it home. He's not even thinking. He needs to call someone. Pick up infant formula (wait, do demon monkeys have that?) and diapers for babies with long tails.

The ginger toddler is combative at first, but quickly calms down when presented with some cut-up fruit - cautiously sniffing the contents before quickly consuming their weight in peach slices. There's odd marks on the cub's skin; not only a heart-shaped face mask, but also odd ring around their skull. Pigsy honestly can't tell if its a birthmark or a scar.

It takes a while for the toddler to trust Pigsy enough to relinquish the newborn so that the pig can feed them a bottle. But considering what they might have just went through, it's understandable.

The newborn is tiny. Covered in dark brown fuzz caked with clay mud.

After both cubs are fed, they get a lukewarm sink bath. The toddler panics when Pigsy tries to lower him into the water, so he's cleaned with a damp towel instead. Pigsy's heart breaks to think what must have happened to make the cub terrified of a little warm water.

Tang rushes over moments after Pigsy sends him a rambling, worried message. His "aww" at the pair of infants is only broken by the thought of "Wait, where did they come from?"

Pigsy and Tang hash out theories, each with a cub clinging to their chests.

Their leading theory is abandonment. Perhaps a poor demon family couldn't cope with the burden of two young children, and chose to dump them on the side of the road. A darker theory is that they lost their parent(s) very recently. Perhaps in a violent manner. This convinces the pair to contact the local authorities...

The cubs have no matches in the genetic database, not even amongst the colony of monkey demons outside the city limits. The village elders insist that there hasn't been any recent disappearances or transisients to explain the cubs existance.

The decision to keep both cubs was pretty easy. Peaches and MK (Tang: "Piggy! You can't name them that! How about Taozi and Xiaotian?") would literally scream if parted for too long. And they very quickly gained an attachment to the cook and scholar.

During the adoption process, a lawyer with fiery red hair and a celestial manner gives them their card in case of further legal help. What sort of name is Fire Star?

Peaches and MK have as normal a childhood as the two men can provide.

Peaches is a brilliant little boy who dreams of healing people with medicine. It's a passion sparked by listening to Dadsy explain all of his grandmother's home remedies and how just a bowl of the best noodle soup on earth can cure almost anything ailing little monkeys.

MK grows up idolizing his big brother. Very rarely do you see Peaches without a little brown fluff trailing behind him. He's an energetic and artful soul, drawing up an official logo for the restaurant when he was barely able to walk. And is absolutely as obsessed with the Monkey King as much as his dear Papa Tang.

Of course there are speed-bumps along the way. The older cub's strength increases dramatically as he gets older, necessitating help from an estranged friend to help him control it. MK has issues making friends as a child until he met a protective dragon pup as hyper as he was.

In the modern day, Pigsy and Tang are proud to have raised two fine young boys. Even if fate seemed to have dropped them in their lap, they wouldn't change a thing.

Peaches, bursting through the door holding a red-gold staff: "DADS I THINK I MESSED UP!!!"

Ok, maybe they'd change the fact that Peaches is apparently a de-aged Sun Wukong with no memory of his previous 2000 years of life.

+

This is a super cute idea for the peach soup au. I can imagine this change only makes the Noodle Family even more defensive of Peaches once Macaque is revived. 2000+ years old or not! He's their baby boy!

[areyoudoingthis]

it is truly fucking infuriating that i have to actively choose to misgender myself to get the healthcare i need tho

my healthcare provider sucks and didn't fix anything but the girl at the hospital was super nice so i can get my bloodwork done now and keep fighting them later