#binary data types

[ancestralsurvival]

Bot farm amplification is being used to make ideas on social media seem more popular than they really are. A bot farm consists of hundreds and thousands of smartphones controlled by one computer. In data-center-like facilities, racks of phones use fake social media accounts and mobile apps to share and engage. The bot farm broadcasts coordinated likes, comments, and shares to make it seem as if a lot of people are excited or upset about something like a volatile stock, a global travesty, or celebrity gossip—even though they’re not.

The article gives examples of many types of manipulation, including:

Russian and Iranian bot farms promote pro-Palestinian misinformation to inflame divisions in the West. Their objective is to pit liberals against conservatives. They amplify Hamas’s framing of the conflict as a civil rights issue, rather than the terrorist organization’s real agenda—which is the destruction of the state of Israel and the expansion of Shariah law and Islamic fundamentalism. The social media posts selected for coordinated amplification by Russian and Iranian actors tend to frame Palestinians exclusively as victims, promoting simplistic victim-victimizer or colonizer-Indigenous narratives—false binaries amplified not to inform but to inflame and divide democratic societies from within.

I highly suggest reading every word of this article: https://www.fastcompany.com/91321143/bot-farms-social-media-manipulation

[girasois]

words for users !

ideias de palavras aleatórias para ajudar você a criar seu próprio user;

random ideas of words to help you to create your own user.

core -> aesthetic core

vlog -> daily videos

logs -> daily facts

mp3 -> audio file format

m4p -> apple audio file format

mp4 -> video file format

txt -> text format

jpeg -> image file format

jpg -> image file format

png -> image file format

gif -> animated file format

raw -> uncompressed file format

zip -> compressed archive file format

rar -> compressed archive file format

web -> internet file format

doc -> document file

pdf -> document file

vinyl -> phonograph record

film -> motion picture; photography

user -> person who utilizes a computer or network service

i2 -> "keeping it real"

self -> a person's essential being

itself -> a person's essential being

priv -> private

luv -> love's short form

tale -> a fictitious or true narrative or story

archive -> to place or store (something) in an archive

list -> connected items

tier -> a type of hierarchy

talk -> speak in order to express something

chat -> to have a conversation

post -> to announce or publish something

zone -> a subject to particular restrictions

vie -> life in french

tie -> to form a knot or bow in

on/online -> connected to a network

byte -> a group of binary digits 

bits -> a small piece, part, or quantity of something

ram -> hardware in a computing device

8bit -> computer term used to designate either color depth

pixel -> a minute area of illumination on a display screen

data -> things known or assumed as facts

series -> a number of things, events, or people of a similar kind

village -> a self-contained community within a town or city

lab -> a laboratory

lady -> a woman

miss -> a form of address to a woman

mister -> a form of address to a man

error -> something not found

art -> the various branches of creative activity

petit -> small in french

poet -> a person possessing special powers of imagination or expression

thing -> an object without a specific name

stuff -> a vague reference to additional things

vogue -> the prevailing fashion or style at a particular time

tv -> taylor's version and/or television as a system or form of media

media -> the main means of mass communication

topia -> an imagined place or state of things in which everything is perfect

saur -> forming names of extinct reptiles such as dinosaurs

tune -> a melody, one that characterizes a particular piece of music

deun -> melody in deutsch

off/offline -> disconnected from the Internet

gloss -> shine or luster on a smooth surface

fae -> a fairy, in modern fantasy fiction

[sightseertrespasser]

"I have a whole other tangent I could elaborate on about Tacnet specifically" Staring at you with big HUGE eyes. I would love to hear the tangent

Alrighty then.

First things first, what is Tacnet?

Sometimes also referred to as a Battle computer, Tacnet is short for Tactical Network and its ostensibly the worlds most demented excel spreadsheet.

In more literal terms, Tacnet is a type of supercomputer.

Supercomputers are incredibly useful pieces of technology. Able to run simulations, predictive algorithms and utilizing real world statistics to essentially speculate the past, present or future. The bottleneck for a regular old supercomputer is that someone has to sit down and manually input all the information necessary for those calculations.

You want to know what kind of gun made that specific bullet hole?

Well first the supercomputer needs the ballistics data off as many kinds of guns as possible, then it needs data on the material that was shot, and it also needs as much information as possible on the bullet hole in question.

You skip out on any of that input and the odds of the supercomputer being correct gets progressively lower.

Problem is, the supercomputer can’t actually think, and therefore can’t estimate how accurate its own calculations are. A computer works in total binary. If it only has the ballistic data for three kinds of guns, it doesn’t matter how much the bullet hole doesn’t match the data sets its been provided, the supercomputer will select whichever of the three matches the hole the most closely.

A computer, no matter how advanced, is incapable of knowing when it doesn’t know something.

But people on the other hand. . .

We turn now to an ambitious young R&D developer many millennia ago.

Once upon a time, this member of Research and Development was on the team responsible for designing new Cold Constructed mechs for Sentinel Prime. And they had a GREAT idea.

“I’ve got it!” They say, unaware of the ominous music rising in the background.

“The great powers of the supercomputer cannot be realized within its current limitations! Its greatest flaws are that it must be stationary, it must be manually fed information and all calculations it does generate must be reviewed by a thinking mech!”

Their coworkers groan. It’s too early in the morning for this shit.

“Therefore!” The mech says, quickly sketching out a box full of smaller boxes that is supposed to be a computer and the miserable approximation of a mech.

“We simply remove the separation, and make the mech itself the data intake for the supercomputer!”

Lightning crashes in the distance, someone tiredly gets the fire extinguisher. Again.

It’s not a hard sales pitch for a totalitarian government to go “Yeah we want super-cops. Here’s the money, make it happen.”

And in a tale as old as capitalism, an untested feature was rolled out with catastrophic consequences.

If you’ve read my tangent on how Crashes work, then you already know about logic cascades.

Tacnet is a supercomputer. A tool. Like any tool, it’s only as good as the person using it, and someone who really doesn’t know what they’re doing is liable to hurts themselves.

So what can Tacnet really do in the hands (or processor) of a master?

Some psychic-type level nonsense. Anyone who’s gotten the hang of their Tacnet, in their own fields of expertise, are able to know exactly what will happen before anyone else.

Let’s compare Smokescreen, Bluestreak and then Prowls Tacnets and how they’re used.

Every Tacnet starts the same, but can be developed and trained to excel at different things.

Smokescreen - Place Your Bets

Smokescreen has trained his to work best for gambling. “Training” can be anything from downloading tables of statistical analysis to personally observing the phenomenon and making notes.

Let’s look at rolling dice. If you rolled a six sided die, any number is equally likely to be rolled. Or 16.67 % odds for each.

So if 3 dice are rolled, then every total value outcome from 3 to 18 must be equal odds as well, right?

Nope! If three six sided dice are rolled, there is a 12.5 % (or 25% if you combine them) chance it’ll be a 10 or 11. And that’s out of sixteen possible outcomes.

So if you know the difference but your opposition doesn’t, then suddenly you have a huge advantage while betting. And this is just the most simplified example I can think of.

If you’ve got the time, statistics are absolutely wild and there’s a mathematical equation for pretty much anything.

All Smokescreen has to do to get good at a game is learn the rules and then plug in the numbers. You know how card counting will get you banned from most casinos? Well Smokescreens worked that out too. Talking to other players (collecting preexisting data points) he can find the average of how much he can win in a night before people get too pissy.

Another thing Smokescreen has going for him (especially over Prowl) is that Smokescreen is much better at reading people. He doesn’t just have statics on the games, but the players.

Mapping out the connections between individuals and taking personal motivations into account, Smokescreen at his peak can not only predict who the winners will be, but he can also predict who will loose on purpose, who will bet the most, who will cheat and who will seek to take their winnings by force.

Experience, experience, experience is the golden ticket.

Also, it’s Smokescreen himself who has to craft the profiles of his victims gambling buddies. Once fleshed out, Tacnet can do wonders mid game, giving Smokescreen room to focus on his social schemes instead.

Luckily, after the burning of Praxus, most people don’t really know what a Tacnet is truly capable of. So Smokescreen looses just often enough to keep folks from realizing that he always knows how every game will play out before they even start.

Bluestreak - Shoot Your Shot

Going in the opposite direction of utility, Bluestreaks Tacnet is all about kinetic calculations.

This fucker is doing the type of math that’s more letters than numbers. Constantly.

Air resistance, velocity, acceleration, gravity, weight, density, temperature, vector, displacement and time.

There’s equations that call for each and every one of those factors, usually in combination.

Your average sniper, even a good one, is usually considering wind speeds, the pull of gravity and the distance from the target when lining up a shot. Bluestreak is taking in all that and then working out the influences of about 15 more factors on top of that. Even before he’s picking where exactly on the target he’s going to hit. Since remember, if he’s got data on not just his own weapons but his enemies defenses, then it really becomes as simple as “would you like them disabled or dead?”

Aim is no longer a question of ability, but an equation to be solved.

Still, physical capabilities does play a part since a steady hand goes a long way towards realizing those calculations.

Tacnet may crunch the numbers, but Bluestreak is the one who has to find all the details relevant to the shot and pick which ones to feed to the machine.

Additionally, Bluestreaks Tacnet in particular has the experimental feature of massively increasing the amount of sensory data he can take in per second, effectively causing him to perceive things in slow motion. This is less something Tacnet is doing, and more a case of Bluestreaks own processor utilizing the bandwidth normally taken up by Tacnet.

Tacnet itself takes a substantial amount of power to run. Normally, it causes problems by siphoning too much power from other systems to do its job (see logic cascade crashes). But Bluestreak has the funny little quirk of somehow doing that in reverse. So when his sense of time dilation becomes maxed out, Tacnet isn’t running the formulas to help him shoot anymore, it’s just Bluestreaks own skills at that point.

Outside of that rare circumstance, Bluestreak is effectively playing with aimbot in real life.

Prowl - Know Your Fate

So we’ve established that Tacnet is powered by mathematical formulas and data collection.

What would happen if someone just, kept going? Kept feeding it? Building up more and more infrastructure for Tacnet to grow around until it has a point of reference for almost anything?

You get an oracle.

Prowl puts the Tactical back into Tacnet. He’s essentially the Jack of all Trades and Master of several of those subjects actually.

Sure, Smokescreen has him beat for behavioral analysis, and Bluestreak is leagues beyond what Prowl can calculate for trajectories. But no one has doubled down on what Tacnet can really do like Prowl has.

You know that (not actually true) statistic about how humans only use 25% of their brains? That’s your average Tacnet user.

Prowl just happens to be insane.

He is constantly taking in new data. He is constantly taking notes, making observations, stripping it down to the raw numbers involved and packing it away into monumental resource centers for Tacnet to refer to.

You ever see someone who’s really good with excel sheets and then see them do some shit you didn’t know excel sheets could even do?

It’s kinda like that.

If you’ve ever read the classic Sherlock Holmes stories, a lot of what makes Sherlock so effective is having such a detailed knowledge of the world around him.

Let’s go back to the bullet hole analysis.

Prowl could look at the bullet hole and tell you after two minutes: “It was this specific Cargo vessel at this time with an illegal weapon.”

From the outside, this looks like a baseless guess. But to Prowl it looks like this:

a) The gun must be a new imported weapon as nothing he currently has on file matches the marking its made in that kind of material.

b) The shooter not only missed their shot, but was shooting downward at an excessive angle. Indicating this was a very large mech firing downward at a much smaller target, likely a mini bot.

c) The shooter can be exactly tracked by looking at the local registry for recent out bound flights, specifically ones with no cargo.

Why? Because the shooter is most likely a transport shuttle. Easy access to imported goods, very large but not a war frame (hence the missed shot) and having failed to kill their victim, would flee town immediately without waiting to take on cargo.

Of those two minutes it took, he spent 1:30 waiting for the flight records to load so he could look up the name of the shuttle.

Scale those skills up to a war room, and Prowl not only knows why an enemy troop is retreating, but where they’re retreating to, what losses they must have taken and whether or not it’ll be worth it to finish the job.

Prowl isn’t smart because he has a Tacnet. Tacnet is OP because Prowl is that smart.

When I write his perspective, Prowl often has an accuracy percentage attached to his calculations. Tacnet isn’t the thing making those estimates. Prowl is the one judging how accurate Tacnets suggestions are.

Dudes just a freak.

—————————

In summary, Tacnet is like if you had every kind of calculator in your pocket and the only limit was how many equations you’ve added on and the amount of information you can feed it.

That last bit is the biggest challenge for Tacnet, as conflicting or flawed data can cause. . . Issues. Aka Logic Cascades. Aka “Why can’t I make it make sense.” Disease.

Let’s just say there’s a reason not many people know what Tacnet is capable of, as a lot of early Praxian Enforcers could be taken out by confusing emotions, plot holes, and particularly well executed magic tricks.

Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence when your new shiny police force can be hospitalized by watching Back to the Future 2.

Being one of the first Cold Constructs built with a Tacnet, Smokescreen figured out how to mostly get around that glitch early on and taught Prowl and Bluestreak how to do the same. In this particular setting, Tacnet is poorly understood and best kept mostly secret for those reasons.

(Bizarrely, between Tacnet and the radar uses of doorwings, Prowl and his brothers would actually be really good at predicting the weather.)

———————————————————————

Bonus bit: Good fucking lord it would absolutely terrifying if you could somehow combine Smokescreen, Prowl and Bluestreaks skills into like a Tacnet hivemind or something.

Though with wing speak, to an outsider that’s probably what it already looks like.

———

The three brothers look at the same bullet hole, silently communicating in a way the local non-Praxian officer couldn’t pick up on.

“Oh yeah, looks like Rotor didn’t like Brick cutting into his half of the dirty money. Slippery little guy but you can find both their hideouts here and here.” Smokescreen, the eldest, pulls up a map for reference.

Prowl is already out the door, Bluestreak is lining up a shot through the window.

“What is he. . ?” The other officer looks from Bluestreak. Then to Prowl, trailing off, “Where is the other one. . ?”

“Oh Prowls off to arrest the shooter.”

“But he’s a grounder, can’t Rotor fly?”

A shot rings out.

“Not anymore!”

[genderkoolaid]

Translated with Google and edited for clarity

Transgender men in Mexico suffer the same type of violence as trans women, but they tend to remain silent and not report it due to gender stereotypes that impose the idea of ​​strength on men, LGBT rights activists agreed on Wednesday. Davien Gómez, a transgender man originally from Guadalajara (western Mexico), told EFE that this sector faces attitudes of devaluation in society, since many of them are in a process of gender transition in which their feminine features have not completely disappeared. “Since they are perceived as women from the start, they have this idea that they will always be women. There are [transmasculine people] that do not have a phallus, but that see themselves as cisgender men, so there is not so much of a problem as long as no one knows, but if they do not [pass as cis, they think,] "how can I consider you a man if you look like a woman?” he said. The activist from the Impulso Trans organization stated that this devaluation is present not only in front of acquaintances or in work and family environments, but also when trying to establish emotional relationships in person or on dating apps focused on the LGTBIQ+ community. Impulso Trans and the Existimos Foundation conducted a survey among trans men in various states of the country, in which they found that 80.2% of the participants have experienced discrimination and violence, but 9.9% of them do not know how to identify it. In the data released within the framework of the LGTBIQ+ Pride month, it stands out that 54.9% of transmasculine people experience violence in the family, 50% at school, 33.5% at work, 38.5% on the street and 34.6% when requesting a service in public institutions. Adrián Arellano, a trans man, told EFE that sometimes violence arises because people have an idea of ​​what it means to be a man, dictated by a heteronormative system in which only what is conceived as masculine is valid. “There are people who believe that all trans men want to have a beard and want to look 100% like a [cis] man, if we don't get to that point we continue to be treated as women,” he explained. Worse still, transgender people face verbal and physical violence because of their appearance or gender expression, attacks that extend to those who identify as non-binary, although transgender men tend not to report them, Gomez added. “It doesn't have the visibility that transfemicides have (...) there is a huge invisibility towards the trans male community and it is very strange that transmasculine people cannot say what happens to them because of this sexist idea that men have to put up with it or that nothing happens to them,” she said.

According to the survey conducted in early 2024, trans men who have experienced violence or discrimination do not file a complaint because they do not know how or where to do so (31.9%), because nothing will change (23.1%) or out of fear (19.2%). Izack Contreras, coordinator of Impulso Trans, told EFE that while it is common for trans men to remain silent out of machismo or to act tough, they also do so because they do not know how to recognize or differentiate violence. “We don't recognize violence, we don't know when I'm experiencing violence or discrimination and I don't know where to go or how to report it or what to do, in general. Add to that the fact that the justice system doesn't work, so we report it, but nothing happens,” she said. Of the survey participants, they found that in 6.6% of cases there was no change among those who dared to report, 3.8% of them were re-victimized, and in 2.2% of cases there was reparation of the damage. Based on these results, both organizations will launch a campaign to make the problems of the trans male community visible, “to make them aware of the violence they may experience, to inform them of the places to go if they are victims and to generate a culture of respect in different areas of society,” explained Contreras.

[lotus-tower]

The Swiss Cheese Model of Covid Prevention

An edited version of the swiss cheese model tailored towards the measures that you as an individual can take to minimize your risk of infection. Public health is ultimately what its name implies, public, but that doesn't mean you're powerless.

Covid prevention is not all-or-nothing. Think of it as risk reduction, rather than a binary.

Let's go through these step by step.

VACCINES

The current vaccines are meant primarily to reduce chances of severe illness, hospitalization, and death. They will reduce your chance of infection a bit--but not nearly as much as you might think. You should still get your boosters regularly, because avoiding severe illness is of course worth doing.

If you haven't gotten the updated monovalent vaccine yet, go get it. It is not a booster. Think of it as a new vaccine. It's targeted towards the XBB lineages, which are now the most common variants. Your last boosters were likely of the bivalent type, aimed at both the original Covid strain from 2020 and Omicron. The new vaccine is monovalent, meaning it targets one family in particular.

Some studies suggest that the Novavax vaccine, which is a more traditional protein-based vaccine, is more effective and safer than mRNA vaccines, and offers better protection against future variants. Of course, the data we have so far isn't 100% conclusive (the last paper I linked is a preprint). Make of these findings what you will, just something to keep in mind. The new Novavax vaccine's availability is still limited, especially outside of the US.

MASKS

Masking is one of the most effective ways to protect yourself. While it is true that masking and reducing Covid transmission protects those around you, the idea that masks can't protect the wearer is outdated information from the early days of the pandemic when medical authorities refused to acknowledge that Covid is airborne.

The key to protecting yourself is to wear a well-fitting respirator. You want to minimize any gaps where air might leak out. If your glasses get fogged up, that's a sign that air is leaking.

Headbands will always have a tighter fit than earloop masks (and therefore provide better protection). However, you can use earloop extenders to improve the fit of earloop masks. You can find these online. Your comfort in wearing a mask is important, but there are options for compromise.

The above graphic doesn't include elastomeric respirators. While some (like the Flo Mask) are expensive, they can be much more affordable than buying disposables--look for P100 respirators at your local hardware store, but make sure it fits your face well.

For more general information, see this FAQ. For mask recommendations (NA-centric, sorry!), see my list here or Mask Nerd's YouTube channel.

For situations where you need to hydrate but don't want to take your mask off, consider the SIP valve.

Not even N95s are foolproof (N95 means it filters at least 95% of particles--with the other 5% potentially reaching you). Most people will likely not have a perfect fit. There will be situations where you'll have to take your mask off. The key is risk reduction, and that's why the Swiss cheese model is crucial.

If you can't afford high-quality masks, look for a local mask bloc or other organization that gives out free masks. Project N95 has unfortunately shut down. In Canada, there's donatemask.ca.

AVOID CROWDED INDOOR SPACES

This is rather self-explanatory. Indoor transmission is much, much, much more likely than outdoor transmission. If it's possible to move an activity outdoors instead, consider doing so.

If possible, try going to places like stores or the post office during less busy hours.

Viral particles can stay in the air for a considerable amount of time even after the person who expelled them has left. Do not take off your mask just because no one is currently present, if you know that it was previously crowded.

A CO2 monitor is a decent proxy for how many viral particles may have accumulated in the air around you. The gold standard is the Aranet4, but it's expensive, so here are some more affordable alternatives.

VENTILATION AND AIR FILTERS

Ventilation is effective for the same reason that outdoors is safer than indoors. If it's warm enough, keep windows open whenever possible. If it's cold, even cracking them open occasionally is better than nothing. Try to open windows or doors on different sides of a room to maximize airflow.

HEPA air filters can significantly reduce viral transmission indoors. Make sure to find one suitable for the room size, and replace the filters regularly. You want to look for devices with HEPA-13 filters.

You can use websites like these to calculate how long it takes for a device to change all the air in a room. Remember what I said about viral particles being able to hang around even after people have left? If an air purifier provides 2 air changes per hour, that means that after 30 minutes, any potential viral particles should be gone.

If you can't afford a commercial air filter, here's a useful DIY filter you can make with relatively simple materials. The filtration capacity is great--but due to being built with duct tape, replacing filters will be a challenge.

If you have to hold meetings or meet with people at work, having a smaller filter on the desk between you will also reduce chances of infection.

As a bonus, HEPA filters will also filter out other things like dust and allergens!

REDUCE LENGTH OF EXPOSURE IF EXPOSURE IS UNAVOIDABLE

Viral load refers to the amount of virus in a person's blood. If you've been exposed to someone with Covid, how much you've been exposed matters.

You might escape infection if the viral load you've been exposed to is very small. Or, even if you get infected, there will be less virus in you overall, leading to milder illness--and crucially, a lower chance of the virus penetrating deep into your body, creating reservoirs in your organs and wreaking long-term havoc.

A low viral load is also less contagious.

This is the same reason that wearing your mask most of the time, but having to take it off for eating, is still much better than not wearing your mask at all.

RECHARGEABLE PORTABLE AIR FILTERS

You might attract some odd looks. But if you're at high risk or just want to be as protected as possible, small portable air filters can help. Try to find models small enough to take with you on public transportation, to school, or while traveling.

These devices will be far too small to clean the air in the whole room. The goal is to have it filter air in your immediate vicinity. Be sure to angle the device so that the air is blowing in your face.

Unfortunately, rechargeable devices are much rarer and harder to find than normal air filters, and many are also expensive.

The best option at the moment, apart from DIY (which is possible, but you need to know what you're doing), seems to be the SmartAir QT3. The size and shape are a bit clunky, but it fits in a backpack. Its battery life isn't long, but it can be supplemented with a power bank.

NASAL SPRAYS

There's some research that suggests that some nasal sprays may be effective in reducing risk of infection by interfering with viruses' ability to bind to your cells.

These sprays are generally affordable, easy to find, and safe. The key ingredient is carrageenan, which is extracted from seaweed. So there are no potential risks or side effects.

Be sure to follow the instructions on the packaging carefully. Here's a video on how to properly use nasal sprays if you've never used them before.

Covixyl is another type of nasal spray that uses a different key ingredient, ethyl lauroyl arginate HCI. It also aims to disrupt viruses' ability to bind to cell walls. Unfortunately, I think it's difficult to obtain outside of the US.

CONCLUSION

None of the methods listed here are foolproof on their own. But by layering them, you can drastically reduce your chances of infection.

The most important layers, by far, are masking and air quality. But you should also stay conscientious when engaging with those layers. Don't let yourself become complacent with rules of thumb, and allow yourself to assess risk and make thought out decisions when situations arise where you might have to take off your mask or enter a high-risk indoor area, such as a hospital.

Remember that the goal is risk reduction. It's impossible to live risk-free, because we live among countless other people. But you can use knowledge and tools to keep yourself as safe as possible.

[cicerfics]

Having A Silly Thought about this post:

I think, at some point, Q-branch becomes very absorbed in the discussion of how Evil Overlord and Evil Consort are clearly two separate genders which bear no relationship to the gender binary of masculinity vs. femininity. A cis man can certainly be an Evil Consort! A nonbinary individual or a person whose gender presentation leans more toward the femme side of things can certainly be an Evil Overlord! These things are complex and variable and must not be restricted based on the artificial confines of the gender binary!

There is much discussion on this topic (a very normal topic of conversation in Q-branch, TBH). People begin analyzing themselves to determine whether they are more on the 'Evil Overlord' side of the spectrum or more on the 'Evil Consort' side.

(Soon, a small group insists that a third gender of 'Evil Henchperson' must be created as well, and this is accordingly done. A few other 'evil' genders pop up, too, as some techs choose a different label for themselves. But most people in the department are trying to decide whether they're more of an Evil Overlord or an Evil Consort.)

Graphs and charts are created to analyze the ratio of responses and to sift for patterns in the collected data. (Again, this is a very normal extracurricular activity in Q-branch.)

Q, everyone agrees, is an Evil Overlord and not at all an Evil Consort! This is understood. (Q does not speak to this himself, because he is busy finishing the annual budget, but his minions feel confident that they have assessed him correctly.)

And at some point, 007 turns up in Q-branch and wants to know what's going on with the white board that says 'Evil Overlord' and 'Evil Consort', with tally marks underneath it.

One of the bolder interns explains the matter to him. (Half the techs are now feeling very awkward and avoiding his eyes. How frivolous they must seem to a man who puts his life on the line for England every day!)

But Bond listens very solemnly and then tells them to put a tally mark under 'Evil Consort' on his behalf, because he is UNDOUBTEDLY that type. He is confident that he would look SPLENDID in a skintight black leather outfit, lounging across his overlord's lap while a traitorous minion is brought in for punishment. He would be EXCEPTIONALLY good at climbing out of the water, gleaming and dripping, in a tiny swimsuit, while his Evil Overlord makes evil phone calls on the deck of an evil yacht. He knows EXACTLY what the duties of Evil Consort would entail, and he could perform them with APLOMB. He would bring tremendous style and panache to the role!

...This is probably the point when Q pops out from his office to see what all the ruckus is about, and why Bond is loitering in Q-branch with a bunch of rapt technicians hanging on his every word.

When Bond explains, very seriously, that he is contributing his personal data for use on this important project (he is 100% an Evil Consort, and yes, Carstairs, he WILL fill out your form and offer supplemental data for additional analysis! glad to help!) Q sputters. He tells Bond to stop being ridiculous.

Bond, very seriously, informs Q that he cannot help being so good at smirking, smoldering, and sashaying around in risque outfits. Don't hate the player, Q. Hate the game.

Q is silent for a long, exasperated moment. Then he heaves a sigh and returns to his paperwork.

Meanwhile, the minions nod at each other solemnly, and silently agree that Bond would be an excellent Consort for their beloved Overlord.

...Just another normal day in Q-branch!

[theprettynosferatu]

State of The Blog, February 2025, or As I Type This

CW: Politics, general downer.

I promised myself I wouldn't write about this. Guess this post makes me a liar, aside from a humble kink-maker. I also promised myself I wouldn't complain, and that I won't do. Things are fine. Texts are being written. The smut is flowing, even if slowly- or less rapidly than either of us would like, dear reader.

Now... shit sure is fucked, huh? Not the most eloquent way of putting it, I know. But who has time for rhetoric these days? And I'm not even American! But I happen to know that a large portion of my little corner o'smut here hails from the USA. I have lived there myself. I have, perhaps, something of a romantic streak when it comes to what America could be. Sadly, it's not what it could be that we have to deal with.

Things are moving quickly. This is not by accident.

As I type this, the richest man in the world has gathered an unfathomable trove of data from the US government. Illegally, of course, but it appears such things no longer matter.

As I type this, information on gender and trans issues is being erased from government websites.

As I type this, self-ID is no longer a thing for my non-binary and transgender American friends, acquaintances and readers.

As I type this, ICE is raiding workplaces, schools, churches.

As I type this, someone has lost funding for life-changing research.

As I type this. the US is getting into a trade war on three fronts. All casualties in this war will be, as is always the case, the working people. On all sides.

The casualties of all these things will not be heralded. They will not the announced or published. They will be silent, in the form of people rationing medicine they need to live, getting sick from the cold and not being able to afford a doctor, perhaps choosing to not go on anymore in a world that seems to scream in their face that they don't matter, they are not wanted, they are Other.

You are shocked and traumatized because that's the point. To shock you into paralysis, so you won't have the bandwidth or time or energy to react- your reaction is what they fear.

I am nothing important. I make stuff to get people off. What right to I have to say anything to anyone who is really suffering? What the fuck can I do? Provide some escapism? Perhaps. It is useful, insofar as burning out on doomer shit helps absolutely no one. I'm nowhere near a front line, so to speak. Perhaps I'm being delusional thinking I am contributing something worth fuck all to people, but hey, I can do delusion. Or hope. It's hard to tell them apart sometimes.

I can't tell you to fight. I can't start preaching about the importance of community. I can't tell you what to do. It's not my place, and it's not my expertise. I'm not here to play armchair resistance, and neither are you. You are here for kink, and so kink I shall give you.

But I couldn't do the State of the Blog and let this go unremarked. As futile as it may be, as stupid as it sounds (and I am aware of the ass I'm making out of myself here), I just wanted you all to know you ARE wanted, you CAN handle this. Shit is bleak. But it won't be bleak forever, because YOU won't let it. The dawn is in your hands. And when you need a break and want to read smut, I'll be here.

Oh, and before I go, just in case anyone isn't clear:

Fuck off fascists.

Fuck off transphobes.

Fuck off xenophobes.

Fuck off racists.

Fuck off real sexists.

Life is not on your side, you absolute dogfuckers. It never has been, and it never will be.

[rikudaa]

༉‧₊˚Blue Paint and Binary

Tim Drake/Red Robin x Reader | Part 1. >>>

ღA/N: I haven’t finished the Jason’s one yet but already started on Tim, I don’t have any excuse your honor. Dividers are made by @cafekitsune ! Also there’s a familiar name, I wonder why it’s there👀

Note: This is a Yandere story but for the start off the chapter it’s just a life of being student in university. You’re an art major with a psychology focus, and he’s in another major likely something strategic, analytical, or tech-heavy. Academic rivals are ruled.

No gender mention for reader, just “You” and “Y/N”. Enjoy!

You see him again.

Fourth time this week. Fifth if you count the reflection in the library window Monday night, where he didn’t notice you watching him stalk through the neuroscience wing like he had a hitlist tucked in his backpack. He probably did. Probably alphabetized, color-coded, timestamped. You don’t know what his major is, exactly. You just know it involves enough data and silence to make your teeth itch.

You’re not even sure how it started, this thing between you.

Maybe it was the day he tore down your entire color-theory thesis in front of the honors seminar like you hadn’t poured eight weeks of insomnia into it. Or maybe it was when you psychoanalyzed the subtle ways he corrects professors, like he’s trying not to challenge their authority outright. A boy raised in the shadows, needing to be smarter than the room but invisible at the same time.

He hated that.

You liked that he hated that.

It made things interesting.

Now you both sit two rows apart in the interdisciplinary lecture you don’t need, but keep taking anyway. You, because it fulfills a loose psych elective. Him, because–well, you’re still figuring that out. You suspect it’s just to keep an eye on you.

His laptop is open. Of course. Always typing, even when the professor is off-topic or ranting about Kantian frameworks like anyone in this generation gives a damn. You sketch while he types. His fingers never pause. Neither does your pencil.

You don’t know what he’s writing. He doesn’t know you’re drawing him. (He probably does)

Sometimes you wonder what it’d be like if you weren’t circling each other like dogs bred for war. If you weren’t two kids with too many ghosts and not enough peace. If you weren’t chasing two versions of control in different languages–his clean, hard logic versus your bleeding, beautiful chaos.

“Drake,” you mutter when he passes by your table at the campus café.

He looks up. Neutral expression, polite voice.

“Y/N.”

The way he says your name–it’s never soft. Like it’s a task. Like he’s filing you under ‘problems to solve later.’

You sip your coffee. He doesn’t sit, but he also doesn’t leave.

“I heard you’re presenting at the symposium next month,” he says. Tone clipped. “Didn’t think postmodern expressionism was ready for prime time.”

You smile over the rim of your cup. “I didn’t think future CIA agents attended art showcases.”

His lip twitches. A crack in the porcelain. You almost write that down. Instead, you offer a shrug.

“It’s about trauma translation in visual mediums,” you say casually. “Memory distortion in painted narratives. Thought you’d be into that, don’t you guys love poking at trauma?”

“I don’t poke,” he says. “I dissect.”

“Wow. That supposed to impress me?”

“No,” he says. “But I’m guessing that’s your default response to feeling threatened.”

You narrow your eyes. “I’m not threatened.”

“Sure.”

You hate that you want to throw your coffee at him and kiss him at the same time.

There’s no label for what you two are. You share a dozen classes. Compete for the same awards. Sit on the same late-night panels when professors need overachievers to flex for alumni donors.

You’ve even been grouped for the occasional cross-discipline project where you talk, and he listens, and then he talks, and you sketch the slope of his mouth when he forgets he’s performing.

Sometimes you work in silence for hours.

Sometimes you fight.

Sometimes you wonder what he dreams about when he forgets to pretend he doesn’t dream.

You catch him reading your analysis paper once. The one you left out in the shared research lab. He doesn’t know you’re watching from the stairwell. He reads it twice.

You never mention it.

Weeks pass. You win the campus-wide art grant. He wins the dean’s medallion. You both pretend not to care about the other’s win, but neither of you stop looking. Comparing. Weighing.

During one particularly brutal review, your advisor calls your piece “Catharsis in Crimson” emotionally erratic.

You leave class furious, chalk-stained fingers clenching your coat.

Tim’s outside already, leaning against the wall like he’d been waiting. You scowl.

“If you came to gloat–”

“I liked it.”

You blink.

“What?”

“I liked your piece,” he says. “The one they tore apart.”

Your voice is smaller than you want. “You don’t get to say that.”

“I know.” He nods. “But I’m saying it anyway.”

It’s quiet for a beat. You look at the sky to avoid looking at his face. The clouds are heavy and gray and stubborn. You think, Maybe we’re like that too.

“I don’t know what we are,” you admit.

Tim exhales slowly. “Neither do I.”

You laugh softly but the bitterness already etched on your tongue.

“Must drive you crazy. Not knowing.”

“It does,” he says. “You’re an outlier. I don’t have a model for you.”

You look at him then. Really look. There’s something honest in the way his hands curl at his sides. Something tired in the slouch of his shoulders, like he’s been fighting a war no one sees.

“I could say the same.”

“I know.”

And there it is again. The space between you, small and sharp and unbearably loud.

You don’t touch. You don’t cross the line.

But you both know it’s there.

Waiting.

Next up: Observe and Detach | Part 1. >>>

©𐙚 rikudaa—Please do not repost or copy this content to other websites.

[enbycrip]

On TDOV, a historian’s perspective on the transphobic nonsense some people spout about bones, burials and gender.

We have been finding burials of gender divergent folk and folk outside the binary since we started any form of organised study of archaeology. The 18th and 19th century European and European-derived archaeologists who didn’t recognise that were the ignorant ones, assuming their definitions of gender were “universal”. Including within the binary; their definitions were deeply reductionist and deeply inaccurate, failing to recognise that even societies they actively claimed some form of cultural descent from had very different definitions of what a “man” or “woman” was from theirs.

Notably, they came from a *very* colonialist society that was doing its best to destroy living cultures with fuller definitions of gender than it allowed. We are still living in a framework of repairing the damage they did in how we understand past cultures, and modern media is frequently very unhelpful on how it reports on discoveries and interpretations, erasing or flattening the huge element of interpretation and uncertainty involved even with the exciting level of data that new techniques can give us on any given site.

Anyone who takes even a cursory look into bioarchaeology will find out that “sexing” bones - which every modern archaeologist knows is at best one element in gendering the person they belonged to - is *incredibly* fucking difficult. A lot of the techniques for it involve measuring proportions of anatomical features that may well not be present - it’s rare for a specimen to be intact. And, frankly - humans are a spectrum in every physical feature. Height, weight, bone density, width of shoulders and pelvis etc etc. Cheaper and more widespread DNA testing is slowly making more people realise that chromosomes aren’t the final word they were told in first year high school biology either. For the remains of people from some cultures, we have some written history to cross-reference archaeology with about the meanings of artefacts. In others, we don’t - and even when we do, half the time what we have is the interpretation of two lines from some dude from a different culture altogether, or from an aside in a religious tract, or a recipe book.

Almost every older specimen we have has been reinterpreted multiple times. Probably the oldest remains as yet found in the UK, from circa 31,000 BCE based on current best estimates, were known as “the Red Lady of Paviland” because they were dyed red with ochre, and the person who found them in 1832 decided from that fact and fact that there was jewellery found with them that they belonged to a female Roman-era sex worker. From around 200 years more work, and considerably more data, we now interpret them as having belonged to a male hunter-gatherer, likely from a nomadic or semi-nomadic people who frequently lived much closer to the coast than the place in Wales where the remains were found. We do not have the information about this person’s culture, how their culture viewed gender, the pronouns their language used and if they related to gender; this was minimum 20,000 years before and on the other side of the world from the oldest writing we have as yet found. We are putting data together and interpreting as best we can, with the awareness that there could be a discovery tomorrow that could utterly change that.

I’m sorry if this seems an obscure topic to address for TDOV, but I do know how this idea of “the bones don’t lie” has got into plenty of folks’ heads when they are having a bad time. So I wanted to address the fact that not only is it bawbins, the entire series of assumptions it posits is bawbins of the type that TERFs and transphobes, like racists, misogynists, and fascists in general, like to spew out there - that gender, or indeed race, is biological, fixed, and essential, that their understandings of it are “fact-based”, and that science is a series of fixed, immutable facts that are just lying there like stones on a beach.

And all of that is complete and utter bawbins.

Gender, and race, like all human frameworks of knowledge and understanding, are constructs - tools we use to understand a ridiculously complex and difficult world. They may *reference* objective facts, but are not in *themselves* facts. None of which means they aren’t incredibly meaningful or don’t have massive impacts on our experiences as humans. But they are mutable, ever-evolving, and incredibly open to constant interpretation and re-definition, and while your individual experience of them will be mediated by your culture, it’s also unique to you too.

No one else’s definition of your gender can *ever* be more accurate than yours. Because it is *yours*.

Happy Trans Day of Visibility, everyone 🏳️‍⚧️💛🤍🖤💜🩷🤍💙

[pupsmailbox]

TECHNOLOGY ID PACK

NAMES︰ admin. ajax. alexa. am. atari. audio. auto. bailey. binary. blank. blu. blue. bluesse. browser. browsette. bug. byte. cache. calware. chip. circe. click. clicker. clickie. clicky. cloud. coda. code. codette. codie. cody. computette. crypt. cursor. cy. cyber. cybernet. cybernetica. cyberweb. cypher. cypherre. data. dell. digi. digitalia. digitelle. digitesse. disc. dot. electronica. electronique. emoticon. emoticonnie. fax. file. gig. gizmo. glitch. glitche. glitchesse. glitchette. graphique. hacker. hal. halware. hijack. index. informationne. intelligette. internette. interweb. java. javascript. juno. key. link. linuxe. lotus. lovebytes. mac. mal. malakai. malware. malwaria. memorette. memorie. meta. mic. micah. mickey. morphe. mouse. mousette. myspace. nano. neo. net. netette. nett. netty. paige. pascal. payton. peyton. pixel. programatha. programette. programme. pulse. reboot. rom. router. ruby. sam. sammy. screene. screenette. sean. shock. solitaire. spy. static. stutter. talia. tap. tecca. tech. techette. tessa. tetris. trojan. troubleshoot. ts. user. vir. virus. virusse. volt. vyrus. webbe. wheatley. whirr. widget. will. wirehead. wiresse. zap. zett. zetta. zip.

PRONOUNS︰ ai/ai. alt/alt. anti/antivirus. arc/archive. audio/audio. bat/battery. beep/beep. beep/boop. bit/bit. bit/byte. blue/blue. board/board. bright/bright. brow/browser. browser/browser. brr/brr. bu/bug. bug/bug. buzz/buzz. byt/byte. byte/byte. c/cpu. charge/charger. cir/circuit. cli/click. click/clack. click/click. click/scroll. co/code. code/code. color/color. com/com. com/computer. comp/computer. compute/computer. computer/computer. cor/corrupt. corrupt/corrupt. CPU/CPU. crash/crash. cre/creeper. crtl/crtl. cy/cyber. cyb/cyber. cyber/cyber. da/data. data/data. delete/delete. di/disk. dig/digital. digi/digi. digi/digital. digital/digital. dra/drag. e/exe. electronic/electronic. enter/enter. er/error. err/error. error/error. exe/exe. fi/file. file/file. gi/gif. gli/glitch. glit/glitch. glitch/glitch. graphic/graphic. hac/hacker. hack/hack. hard/hardware. head/phone. hij/hijacker. ho/home. info/info. information/information. int/internet. intelligent/intelligence. intelligent/intelligent. inter/net. internet/internet. it/it. jpg/jpg. key/board. key/cap. key/key. key/keyboard. key/keylogger. lag/lag. lap/laptop. ligh/light. linux/linux. load/load. log/login. main/mainframe. mal/malware. me/media. memory/memorie. mon/monitor. mou/mouse. nano/nano. net/net. net/network. org/org. over/overwrite. page/page. pix/pix. pix/pixel. pixel/pixel. plu/plug. png/png. pop/popup. port/port. pow/power. pro/program. program/program. ram/ram. ran/ransom. reboot/reboot. reload/reload. res/restore. ret/retro. route/router. sca/scan. scr/scroll. scre/screen. scre/screencap. scree/screen. screen/screen. scri/script. script/script. sentient/sentience. shift/shift. site/site. skip/skip. soft/software. spa/spam. space/space. spy/spyware. stop/stop. te/tech. tech/nology. tech/tech. technology/technology. tou/touchpad. txt/txt. typ/type. upload/upload. user/user. vi/viru. vi/virus. vir/virtual. web/page. web/web. whir/whir. wi/wire. win/dow. win/window. wire/wire. wire/wired. zip/zip . ⌨ . ☣ . ⚙ . ⚠ . 🎞 . 🎨 . 🎭 . 🎮 . 🎵 . 👀 . 👁 . 💔 . 💡 . 💢 . 💣 . 💳 . 💵 . 💻 . 💽 . 💾 . 💿 . 📀 . 📱 . 🔇 . 🔈 . 🔉 . 🔊 . 🔋 . 🔌 . 🔎 . 🖥 . 🖱 . 🗡 . 🗯 . 🛠 . 🧿 .

[dawnfelagund]

I expect the outcome of these data will surprise no one. Women speak less, and women speak less. This isn't a typo: It means that they have fewer instances of dialogue in The Silmarillion by a substantial margin, and when they do speak, they speak nine fewer words than men, on average.

Instances of women speaking is much nearer to speakers of unknown gender than to men speaking. (And before we get excited and think that the "unknown gender" speakers are rejecting the gender binary, this category represents mostly dialogue attributed to a group, plus two unnamed individuals who are given dialogue and one sword.)

This matters because dialogue signifies several important things in The Silmarillion. First, in a pseudohistorical text like The Silmarillion, direct quotes mean that someone said something important enough to preserve in the historical record. Men, based on the data, are saying far more important things than women, at least in the various narrators' estimation. Next, dialogue is often a proxy to action: Characters debate, give directives, and make speeches. Dialogue also humanizes, and even though Tolkien rejects many modern literary techniques in The Silmarillion, he does use dialogue as a characterization technique. As I will show in future analyses, some characters are distinguishable based on how they speak.

Of course, the reduced dialogue of women in The Silmarllion is a direct effect of there being significantly fewer women than men: Women constitute only 19% of the named characters in The Silmarillion. Even given this, however, women speak less than we would expect.

When we look at character groups, there are notable differences, namely that women of the Ainur speak more than Mortal Human and Elven women do. (Only four Elven women and five Mortal Human women speak in The Silmarillion! Excuse me while I scream!) This was the thesis of the long-ago Inequality Prototype that spurred this data collection endeavor: The Valar, being prototypical, show an equal penchant for entering into the world based on gender: It is a 50/50 split. So we can't say that women have less desire to influence the world than men in the legendarium. When we see less action and fewer instances of dialogue among women, then, we have to ask why.

Complicating the data for the Ainur (overall, not just this set) is the fact that a big chunk of their dialogue occurs in the "Of Aulë and Yavanna" chapter that Christopher Tolkien wrote. I don't want to treat these data differently until I have the opportunity to collect more data on where dialogue outside this chapter comes from; for all I know, Christopher wrote most of it! (Actually, I know he didn't, but this chapter does illustrate how his additions can skew data for a particular group, in this case the Ainur.)

Another future area of inquiry will be the type or purpose of the dialogue and whether/how this varies based on gender. Characters speak for many reasons. Do women speak for different purposes than men?

If these data illustrate anything to me, it is the importance of fanworks in amplifying the voices of women characters who we know existed and know said and did things that mattered. We are being given a historical record much like our own Modern-earth historical record: biased toward the contributions of some over others. Only we can fix that.

---

This is part of my ongoing project The Silmarillion: Who Speaks? The data is available under a CC license for others who wish to play with it: View the data | Copy the data

[hotchnerwrites]

hi i have a really weird request i was hoping you’d fulfill :) i read your request guidelines and it says you write for spencer reid but it looks like you write majority hotch fics, which i also enjoy:) i have hoping for a spencer reid x reader fic, i don’t have much of a plot in mind so you may need to get creative, or maybe it could just be headcanons, but anything with a weird reader. like maybe she’s an elementary art teacher type vibe (maybe she’s actually an art teacher, or maybe she works at the BAU, your choice) and she has pet bugs and wears cool clothes, that sort of thing. everyone always writes the reader to be really type a, really similar to spencer, yk? and as much as i love those fics i personally think he’d work well with a little more carefree, creative type person too. thank you so much and you absolutely do not have to write this if you don’t want too!!

Ladybird 🐞

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: SFW, headcanons kinda, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of (y/n), fluff

A/N: Hi anon! so glad you enjoyed my other fics! I'm so happy you requested Spencer, i've been itching to write my pookie but it's not a common request (yet?), i only have one other published fic of him. i looooooooooove writing his big brain self and ur idea of reader being an opposite personality type was so delicious to write ugh i'm quite happy with this fic. i also have some drafts of him (academic rivals, fluff fics etc.) but i don't post them bc im not at a 100% with them, they're much longer fics too lol. if you want those, i'm happy to post (slowly) so lmk. anyways, enough yapping, ENJOY THE READ!!! mwah mwah mwah <3

My requests are open! Please read my rules before req'ing. Send me stuff! :)

Spencer wasn’t accustomed to the sensation of being in the dark. If something new crossed his path, he’d devour every piece of information he could find, understanding it, processing it, then neatly filing it away in his mind for later use. The idea of being uncertain—it made him uneasy, like a puzzle with a missing piece, gnawing at him until he could fill it in. He hated the discomfort of not knowing.

But you… what were you?

You moved through life with a kind of fluidity he couldn’t quite grasp. Were you like water? No, no, you were too solid, too grounded for that. Fire, then? But you weren’t wild or destructive—your warmth didn’t burn Spencer, it invited him in. The wind, then. You were untethered and free. But even that didn’t feel quite right. The wind didn’t create, and you were full of creation. You existed in a plane ruled by feeling rather than logic, instinct over calculation.

Spencer couldn’t fathom you.

He prided himself on his ability to categorise things, to turn life into binary or categorical data. But you slipped like butter through his mental filing system, like something he could never quantify. You smelled like rain and cedar, like something both fresh and familiar, like petrichor clinging to the edges of an old wooden frame. He couldn’t place it, couldn’t place you, and maybe that was why he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

When you talked about your job— you were an elementary school art teacher— you talked about it with a kind of excitement that made Spencer envious. It was silly, really, but he wanted the one to be taught by you, to spend more time trying to figure you out. He loved his work, too, but it was so full of danger and death, and the way you loved yours made him want to be a part of the world you had.

The first time he met you, Spencer spent an embarrassing amount of time trying to decipher the colours in your outfit. He knew different textures weren’t supposed to be mixed (the Vogue magazine he had swiped at the doctor’s office had declared the mixing of dots and stripes a cardinal sin), but you had layered patterns like a painting. It shouldn’t have made sense. So why did it? He had opened his mouth to ask if there had been a method behind it, but you had flashed a smile at him that made his unfaltering mind stop dead in its tracks, and you had said, “Don’t overthink it, Spence. Just feel.”

As if it was something he knew how to do.

You weren’t chaotic, not exactly—but you were unpredictable. Spencer, with his equations and calculations, with his logic and probabilities, had always sought comfort in knowing the outcome before things even began. But you—you weren’t an equation. You were the space between the numbers, the part of the formula he couldn’t solve. You were a walking, talking example of Ramsey’s theorem— he knew where you started and where you ended, but he couldn’t untangle what was in between.

Every morning, you took a picture of your coffee. It was the same drink every day, but you persevered, swearing the foam made a new image every time. You’d tried to rope him into theorising with you, to get him to see the shape of the world in the swirls and patterns of the cream, but Spencer could never really see it like you. 

“You know it’s just milk and coffee, right?” He’d say, leaning over your shoulder to examine the mug. “There’s no scientific basis for anything more.” 

But you never held it against him. Sometimes, you’d nudge him with your elbow, a grin tugging at the corners of your mouth as you said, “I think you’re missing out on a whole new dimension of the universe, Reid.”

He’d hum, a little smile on his lips, and then he’d drop the subject—mostly. He wasn’t one to argue for long, especially when it came to the things that made you happy, like the ritual of your morning coffee or the way you’d rearrange your art supplies by colour, even though it made absolutely no sense.

When Spencer found out you kept bugs as pets, he’d nearly leapt out of his chair.

“You— you have a mantis,” he stammered, eyes wide as he watched you let it crawl delicately over your fingers.

“That’s not just a mantis, Spence,” you scolded him gently, a smile tugging at your lips, “Meet Matilda. She’s my friend.”

Spencer blinked, processing. “Statistically, most people keep a cat or a dog—“

“I’m not a statistic, Spence,” you’d reminded him, voice gentle as if you were talking to one of your school kids.

He tried to understand, tried to decipher why anyone would choose to keep an insect as a pet, but logic evaded him, a feeling he only experienced around you. But when he’d watch you play with Matilda like she was the best thing in the world, he let it go.

He started bringing you little things—odds and ends that made him think of you. A book of surrealist paintings he thought you’d like. A smooth, speckled rock he found outside the precinct. A jar of local honey from a case in a small town, because you once mentioned you liked the taste of dandelions.

And every time, you’d accept them like he had just handed you a moonbeam, eyes lighting up in unadulterated joy.

“See?” you had murmured one day, holding the honey jar up to the light. “You do feel things, Spencer. You just don’t realise it.”

No, it wasn’t about logic. Maybe, it was just about you.

One day, Spencer caught himself carefully placing a ladybug outside on a leaf, rather than brushing it away. As he counted its spots for you— something about them bringing luck— he realised something.

Oh.

I love her.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/cafekitsune

[theoreticalfishsticks]

Sanguinius X Spider-Person!Reader

AN: What's up what's up it's me again with more of my brainrot this isn't a proper part two to the first one (which I am trying to write I'm just kinda struggling with it) rather it's more just a silly goofy little drabble in the same setting, definitely ooc but fuck it we bhaal

Reader is non-binary and really not that active a participant in this in particular lol

Word Count: 1257

divider from @/enchanthings

“What do you think you are doing?” Azkaellon hissed.

“Writing a report,” Raldoron replied, his face perfectly neutral as he spared Azkaellon little more than a sideways glance.

Azkaellon's face turned sour. That wasn't what he had been referring to and he knew that Raldoron knew that.

The First Captain sat in one of The Red Tear's many council chambers, awaiting the imminent meeting to be held there. He was indeed typing away on a data slab, however, that was the least of Azkaellon's concerns.

No, what Azkaellon was concerned about was the small, curled figure of their Primarch’s newest addition to his inner circle sitting in his brother's lap, their body resting against his chest, like some kind of spoiled pet.

Azkaellon had long since been won over by his Primarch’s insistence on keeping the little bug around, but surely he was not expected to put up with this!? For the spider to presume they might reduce an Astartes warrior to nothing more than a living mattress was a slight in and of itself, but for Raldoron to allow it? Did he have no respect for his own position? Azkaellon had to put an end to this flagrant display of disregard before their gene-Father could enter the chamber to witness it.

“Get them out of your lap right this instant,” Azkaellon demanded. “Act with some decorum, why don't you. What would even possess you to debase yourself so?”

“Hush, you'll wake them if you keep this up,” Raldoron scolded him, an undercurrent of mischievous glee just barely seeping into his voice.

Azkaellon was seething now. “What do I care if they wake up? Why are they even asleep in the first place? We have a meeting in just a few moments.”

“Amit had them running drills all morning without any breaks, I think they can be allowed a little nap, Azkaellon.”

“And why, pray tell, must said ‘little nap' take place in your lap of all places?”

“Come now, brother, their genetic augmentation distorted their body's ability to regulate its own temperature, everybody knows that,” Astian's voice rings out from behind Azkaellon, as though pointing out the obvious. 

The Fleet Master steps past Azkaellon into the room a moment later, nodding in greeting to Raldoron before turning to address the head Ikisat once more. “Surely, the little one was simply cold and this was a convenient solution.” 

Raldodon nodded mutely in confirmation of Astian’s words.

Had all of his brother's gone mad? Why were they both being so casual about this? Of course, both Raldoron and Astian were far more personable than himself, Azkaellon had no problem admitting that. But even still, never in all of their time serving together had he seen either of them act so blatantly familiar with someone.

It dawned on him then, that this was the exact kind of open affection that the currently snoozing Huntsman had quickly become infamous for… and Azkaellon didn't know what to do with the idea that the spider's affectionate nature might be rubbing off on his brothers.

“Besides, I thought you didn't care for the little spider's input, Azkaellon? Are you really so loath to miss out on their counsel? How unusually sweet of you, brother,” Astian drawled teasingly, slinking into the seat across from the First Captain.

Azkaellon scowled, rounding the table to face the Fleet Master head on. “Lord Sanguinius values their input. Whether I understand why he does or not, the fact remains. And for them to sleep through a meeting he specifically invited them too is a display of impertinence of the highest degree.”

Astian opens his mouth as though to retort, but before he can he is cut off by an unmistakable voice at the chamber’s entrance. 

“The meeting has yet to begin, my dear Commander,” Sanguinius calls out to his head guard. 

Each Astartes stiffens in response to their Primarch’s presence, bowing their heads and saluting. Or at least, Raldoron in particular tried to salute. The body currently draped over his front made resting his fist against his chest properly impossible, instead his arm had to curl over the sleeping spider on his lap and hover his fist about where it should be. His Father didn’t seem to mind.  

“At ease,” he calls, striding into the room proper, two Sanguinary Guards flanking him silently.

“Would you have me wake them, my Lord?” Raldoron asks as the Primarch approaches him. 

Sanguinius smiles down at his gene-son, for the most part looking every bit the vision of the living angel he was seen as. Except, that is, for the slightest strain in the curve of his lips as he takes in the sleeping form on Raldoron’s lap. A detail the First Captain is only just able to catch before his Father’s visage is completely smoothed over, free of any indication that something might be amiss. 

“No, there’s no need,” Sanguinus says. Reaching out a hand, he tenderly smooths the back of his pointer and middle fingers along the sleeping figure’s cheek. “You were right, my son. For them to have survived an entire morning of Nassir’s training has more than earned them some respite… however,” he trails off, his gaze flicking up to meet Raldoron’s with a hint of... mischief? “I do believe you have a central role in this little council of ours, First Captain. One that would necessitate both the use of your hands and the ability to stand, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Of course,” Azkaellon chimes in, a lightly smug tone coloring his words. “There’s plenty of time before the council is called into session. Why not take the spider back their chamber if they’re so–”

Before he can finish the thought, however, Sanguinius leans down and gathers the sleeping figure into his own arms with gentle resolve. “Allow me to take them off your hands,” the Primarch croons, already turning away to approach his own seat at the head of the room. 

Any baseline would have been able to hear a pin drop amongst the ensuing silence that blanketed the room, as all five Astartes are at a loss for how to react. So shocking to them is his behavior that even his two accompanying guards stand rooted to their spot near Raldoron rather than following him up to the dais as they should. 

Their Primarch, however, pays their distress no mind. Calmly, he settles himself atop his throne and begins adjusting the figure in his lap to rest more comfortably. Favoring his left side, he tucks them snugly against his body before spreading out his wing and draping it delicately over their form, hiding them from sight. 

“There... Now, Raldoron is free to present what he must and our little spider will be plenty warm as they get some much needed rest,” Sangunius hums. 

Having been addressed by the Primarch seems to knock his guards out of their reverie as they swiftly move to flank him once again where he sits, one slightly ahead of the other, without comment. Raldoron and Astian simply nod in acknowledgement, though they continue to stare at their gene-Father in a dumbfounded manner.

Azkaellon seems to be the last in the room to recover, as he struggles to make sense of the scene before him. The first truly coherent thought to break through the whirlpool of propriety and implication rioting about the Commander’s mind comes in the form of a near childish whine, echoing out across the farthest reaches of his mind: ‘Not you too, Father…'

[femmebis]

Data from a recent report, which shows which types of relationships bisexual people are in. So you all can stop with your biphobic ‘bisexuals are always in M/F relationships’ nonsense.

(Note: binary trans people are included in the first graphic. The last two graphics are just created to be exclusively about them.)

Graphics by @isthisbicuiture on Twitter

Study: https://www.ilga-europe.org/report/intersections-the-lgbti-ii-survey-bisexuals-analysis/

[funky-lil-ghost]

CROWs in MINERAF

tldr: how crows could work in minecraft if the devs were huge crow nerds and liked overwhelming complexity as a design feature and wanted to basicallt make a whoel update about crows. also they could be a cool way to introduce a more ethical iron farm design for anyone uncomfortable with the traditional ones. cause they bring shinys* :> also i love them

ideas in detail under the cut (based on real crow behaviors and such) (based on crows being delightful) (based on i love cfows it is 1am)

spawn mechanics

Crows spawn in "neighborhoods" which consist of 2-5 families living in adjacent chunks. Each family (2-5 individuals) considers one chunk their territory (where their nest spawns). Each territory is adjacent to a neighboring one, with a high chance of adjacency to multiple if present. Crow neighborhoods don't spawn near each other (some unspecified number of chunks has to be between them).

behavior

Crows are intelligent, curious, and social creatures. They peck at pretty much any block (but especially gravel and farmland). They flap and hop about playfully, often gliding and diving at one another. They return to a nest (not always their own, if a neighbor's is nearer and not full) at nighttime. At their nest, they drop leftover items such as black feathers (more on this later), iron(& gold?) nuggets, rabbit hides or feet, spider eyes, etc. These items are stored in the nest for a short amount of time (automatic fading signal strength redston component anyone? multi-power-level random clock? idk). The items may be moved via player interaction or hoppers.

Roosts are a rare behavior, similar to zombie "hordes" aka sieges. Sometimes the player may witness a large gathering of crows from multiple neighborhoods around a single nest. After night passes, they return to their homes. They do this because they are lovely and i love them there is no other purpos

black feather item

Black feathers, obtained most efficiently via nest drops and least efficiently via crow death, may be used to create a potion of [haste, phantom-repellent, or something else cool and helpful]. They may also be used for arrows.

player interaction

The removal of items from the nest, by players or hoppers, will result in a group attack called "mobbing" and severely reduce iron/gold nugget droprates. While naturally spawned crows cannot be tamed as pets, they can become friendly toward the player and cease this behavior. For this, the player must interact with the nest using seeds or any food item at about the same time of day for 3 consecutive days. This affects every family in the crow neighborhood due to crows being so so smart and communicative.

Crows may be bred using seeds or any food. The direct offspring of crows bred by the player may be tamed in the same manner as parrots. A pet crow stays with the player rather than returning to its nest. It will use any nest within a 3 chunk radius when night falls, provided the nest is not already holding the maximum 5 crows. In the absence of a nest, the crow sleeps on or near the player (this negates all of the usual nest drops). this isnt based on irl bhavior i just want t o be a crow's friend

If a player hits a crow more than once within a few seconds, or kills one, then its entire neighborhood becomes hostile to the player. They leave or attack if the player is present, mob attack if the player is in their territory, and stop dropping items at their nest while any evidence of the player is present (this includes hoppers). In the case of a pet crow, this effect applies to all crows which have previously been spawned. it can be negated on a neighbourhood-by-neighbourhood basis via extended neighbourhood taming (each neighbourhood takes 7 days of taming, rather than 3). this is because u have to be nice to them. or else. i wil be sad (it is also based on irl behavior thoug)

iron farm concept

If a player "tames" a neighbourhood, they can leave flint, string, and an iron nugget beneath one of the nests three nights in a row to facilitate tool creation and use. This increases the crows' iron nugget droprate, first immensely and then with a slow exponential increase which is eventually capped according to certain variables (aka i dont know enough about balancing things to say more). With this increase, other drops (except black feathers) decrease.

To create and maintain the maximum iron drop rates, the player must leave food for the crows once every 3 days (this may be accomplished with droppers on a timer). maybe this isnt a necessary addition but considr. they deserve a snackie snack. a treat.

It is possible to relocate a "tamed" neighbourhood (one nest at a time) by using special foods such as glistering melon slices (to distract thm with cool tasty stuff) on the nest, then using Silk Touch or shears to move it up to [some numbre of] chunks. The crows will reappear with their nest after it is placed and the chunk is reloaded. Multiple neighbourhoods may be relocated nearer to one another, as long as there is a one-chunk gap between them. because if i want a billion million crows at my house playing and hopping around..well thats my perogative isnt it. and also i must allow for overpwered farm rates because i want overpowered farm rates

in conclusion

i lov crow

*disclaimer i am pretty sure the "crows are obsessed with shiny things" idea is a myth.. they are simply curious and like to look at the stuff in their environment. since theyre primarliy urban birds (at least for the last liek 40-50 years, they werent before) (at least in the usa) (i don't know) they happen to be around shiny things a lot. so thats why they pick up shiny. because shiny is in the area just like stick or perhaps bone is in the area.

anybody wanna watch me explain my super over-complicated ideas about minecraft crows when i should actually be going to sleep

[commodorez]

I still believe the craziest form of computer program storage format from the 1980s is the cassette tape. Logical I get it but to store entire programs on little tape (that I only remember using to play music) is just crazy to me. Idk

Agreed, cassette tape for data storage was really clever. The concept had its heyday was the 1970s in a wide variety of encoding schemes for different computer platforms. It did persist into the 80s, mostly in Europe, while the US switched to floppy disks as soon as they were available for systems. The majority of my Ohio Scientific software is on cassette.

Talking with UK vs. US Commodore 64 users in particular will highlight the disparity in which storage mediums that were commonplace. I've got a few pieces of software on tape for mainly the VIC-20, but I rarely bother to use it, because it's slow and annoying. To be fair, Commodore's implementation of data storage on tape is pretty rock solid relative to the competition. It's considered more reliable than other company's but Chuck Peddle's implementation of the cassette routines are considered quite enigmatic to this day. He didn't document it super well, so CBM kept reusing his old code from the PET all the way through the end of the C128's development 7 years later because they didn't want to break any backward compatibility.

The big thing that really made alot of homebrewers and kit computer owners cozy up to the idea was the introduction of the Kansas City Standard from 1976. The idea of getting away from delicate and slow paper tape, and moving towards an inexpensive, portable, and more durable storage medium was quite enticing. Floppy disk drives and interfaces were expensive at the time, so something more accessible like off the shelf audio tapes made sense.

I've linked two places you can read about it from Byte Magazine's February 1976 issue below (check the attribution links).

You might recognize a familiar name present...

There are a few ways to encode binary data on tape designed to handle analog audio, but the KCS approach is to have 1's be 8 cycles of 2400Hz tone, and 0's be 4 cycles of 1200Hz tone. I say cycles, because while 300 baud is the initial specification, there is also a 1200 baud specification available, so the duration of marks vs spaces (another way of saying 1's and 0's), is variable based on that baud rate. Many S-100 computers implemented it, as do a few contemporary proprietary designs.

The big 3 microcomputers of 1977 that revolutionized the industry (Apple II, Commodore PET 2001, and Tandy TRS-80 Model I) each have their own cassette interface implementation. It kept costs down, and it was easy to implement, all things considered. The Apple II and TRS-80 use off-the-shelf cassette deck connections like many other machines, whereas the original variant of the PET had an integrated cassette. Commodore later used external cassette decks with a proprietary connector, whereas many other companies abandoned tape before too long. Hell, even the original IBM PC has a cassette port, not that anybody bothered to use that. Each one used a different encoding format to store their data, rather than KCS.

Here's a sample of what an OSI-formatted tape sounds like.

And here's a Commodore formatted tape, specifically one with VIC-20 programs on it.

I won't subject you to the whole program, or we'd be here all day. The initial single tone that starts the segment is called the "leader", I've truncated it for the sake of your ears, as well as recorded them kinda quietly. I don't have any other tape formats on hand to demonstrate, but I think you get the idea.

You can do alot better than storing programs on tape, but you can also do alot worse -- it beats having to type in a program every time from scratch.