#data-binding

[sisterofthesouth]

can anyone who owns physical copies of deltora quest tell me what the front or back covers say re: how many copies of dq have been sold

[snobgoblin]

NOOOOOOOO I ACCIDENTALLY HIT AGREE TO TUMBLR LIVE FUCK IVE BEEN PLAYING SO MUCH SUBWAY SURFERS THATS WHERE THE CLOSE AD BUTTON IS AUGHHHH

[saygeadvice]

#kokobot is not your friend.

I forget that people don't just automatically block bots anymore like we all used to.

This is seriously predatory. They are mining children's trauma and crises for their own usage, and people are giving them money to do it.

Please block kokobot right away, and tell people about this bullshit.

@staff - this is, at best, corporate negligence. You're giving them a platform to USE CHILDREN AND THEIR TRAUMA.

KOKOBOT - The Airbnb-Owned Tech Startup - Data Mining Tumblr Users' Mental Health Crises for "Content"

I got this message from a bot, and honestly? If I was a bit younger and not such a jaded bitch with a career in tech, I might have given it an honest try. I spent plenty of time in a tough situation without access to any mental health resources as a teen, and would have been sucked right in.

Chatting right from your phone, and being connected with people who can help you? Sounds nice. Especially if you believe the testimonials they spam you with (tw suicide / self harm mention in below images)

But I was getting a weird feeling, so I went to read the legalese.

I couldn't even get through the fine-print it asked me to read and agree to, without it spamming the hell out of me. Almost like they expect people to just hit Yes? But I'm glad I stopped to read, because:

What you say on there won't be confidential. (And for context, I tried it out and the things people were looking for help with? I didn't even feel comfortable sharing here as examples, it was all so deeply personal and painful)

Also, what you say on there? Is now...

Koko's intellectual property - giving them the right to use it in any way they see fit, including

Publicly performing or displaying your "content" (also known as your mental health crisis) in any media format and in any media channel without limitation

Do this indefinitely after you end your account with them

Sell / share this "content" with other businesses

Any harm you come to using Koko? That's on you.

And Koko won't take responsibility for anything someone says to you on there (which is bleak when people are using it to spread Christianity to people in crisis)

I was curious about their business model. They're a venture-capitol based tech startup, owned by Airbnb, the famous mental health professionals with a focus on ethical business practices./s They're also begging for donations despite having already been given 2.5 million dollars in research funding. (If you want a deep dive on why people throw crazy money at tech startups, see my other post here)

They also use the data they gather from users to conduct research and publish papers. I didn't find them too interesting - other than as a good case study of "People tend to find what they are financially incentivized to find". Predictably, Koko found that Kokobot was beneficial to its users.

So yeah, being a dumbass with too much curiosity, I decided to use the Airbnb-owned Data-Mining Mental Health Chatline anyway. And if you thought it was dangerous sounding from the disclaimers? Somehow it got worse.

(trigger warning / discussions of child abuse / sexual abuse / suicide / violence below the cut - please don't read if you're not in a good place to hear about negligence around pretty horrific topics.)

I first messed around with the available options, but then I asked it about something obviously concerning, saying I had a gun and was going to shoot myself. It responded... Poorly. Imagine the vibes of trying to cancel Comcast, when you're suicidal.

Anyway, I tried again to ask for help about something else that would be concerning enough for any responsible company to flag. School was one of their main options, which seems irresponsible - do you really think a child in crisis would read that contract?

I told it about a teacher at school trying to "be my boyfriend", and it immediately suggested I help someone else while I wait for help. I was honestly concerned that it wasn't flagged before connecting. Especially when I realized it was connecting me to children.

I first got someone who seemed to be a child in an abusive home. (Censored for their privacy.) I declined to talk to them because despite being an adult and in an OK mental place - I knew I'm not equipped to counsel a kid through that. If my act of being another kid in crisis was real? Holy shit.

Remember- if my BS was true, that kid would be being "helped" by an actively suicidal kid who's also being groomed by a teacher. Their pipeline for "helpers" is the same group of people looking for help.

I skipped a number of messages, and they mostly seemed to be written by children and young adults with nowhere else to turn. Plus one scary one from an adult whose "problem" was worrying that they'd been inappropriate with a female student, asking her to pull her skirt down "a little" in front of the class. Koko paired this person with someone reporting that they were a child being groomed by a teacher. Extremely dangerous, and if this was an episode of Black Mirror? I'd say it was a little too on the nose to be believable.

I also didn't get the option to get help without being asked... Er... Harassed... to help others. If I declined, I'd get the next request for help, and the next. If I ignored it, I got spammed by the "We lost you there!" messages, asking if I'd like to pick up where I left off, seeing others' often triggering messages while waiting for help, including seriously homophobic shit. I was going into this as an experiment, starting from a good mental place, and being an adult with coping skills from an actual therapist, and I still felt triggered by a lot of what I read. I can't imagine the experience someone actually in crisis would be having.

My message was starting to feel mild in comparison to what some people were sharing - but despite that I was feeling very uneasy about my message being shown to children. There didn't seem to be a way to take it back either.

Then I got a reply about my issue. It was very kind and well meaning, but VERY horrifying. Because it seemed to be written by a child, or someone too young to understand that "Do have feelings for the teacher who's grooming you? If you don't, you should go talk to him." Is probably THE most dangerous advice possible.

Not judging the author - I get the impression they're probably a child seeking help themselves and honestly feel horribly guilty my BS got sent to a young person and they wanted to reply. Because WTF. No kid should be in that position to answer my fucked up question or any of the others like it.

---

Anyway, what can you do if this concerns you, or you've had a difficult experience on Koko, with no support from them or Tumblr?

To reach Tumblr, who officially partners with Koko?

Send a message to Tumblr Support describing your concerns with their partnership with Kokobot

Report kokobot to Tumblr's abuse hotline describing your experience with KokoBot, especially if you are a minor who suffered harm, as they have a legal responsibility to address that.

To get Koko's attention:

Get on their LinkedIn (https://www.linkedin.com/company/kokocares/) and comment on their posts! You may also want to tag the company's co-founders in your comments - their accounts are listed on the company page.

There's no way to reach support through chat, and commenting on a company's LinkedIn posts / tagging the people responsible is the best way to get a quick response to a sensitive issue - as their investors and research funders follow those posts, and companies take it seriously if safety issues are brought up in front of the people giving them millions of dollars.

Request support on Koko's Discord - FYI they will allow you to file a ticket privately, which the moderators say will reach the staff. But you may be muted or banned for trying to discuss concerns with Koko as a company or the safety of kokobot in the public channels, which also cuts you off from the ability to file a ticket.

To report it to the FCC for likely violating the COPPA law, regarding minors' safety and privacy online:

See Reblogs for further info & reporting instructions: Detailed description of COPPA law and Kokobot's presumed violations, plus detailed reporting instructions

But quick links: FCC reporting website and email hotline: CoppaHotLine@ftc.gov

Seriously, if you've taken the time to read this far, please please please take one more minute to file a report! It won't get addressed if all we do is reblog this, we need to get this in front of Tumblr Staff / The FCC / Koko's investors to get this meaningfully addressed.

Blocking and reporting the bot as spam isn't enough IMO - people have been doing that for years from the looks of the tag

----------

Reccomended reading in reblogs:

dropattackbear's discovery of what Koko is using the harvested data for (Machine Learning training data for automated content moderation services)

winderlylandchime (a licenced clinical psychologist's) explanation of privacy / ethics considerations around mental health services

thatsmimi's post on the dangers of letting minors act as a suicide / self-harm resource

My additions on their investors, leadership board, and their current job opening

----------------------------------------------------

Legal Disclaimer since tech companies LOVE lawsuits:

The views, thoughts, and opinions expressed in the text belong solely to the author, and not necessarily to the author's employer, organization, committee or other group or individual. This text is for entertainment purposes only, and is not meant to be referenced for legal, business, or investment purposes. This text is based on publically available information. Sources may contain factual errors. The analysis provided in this text may contain factual errors, miscalculations, or misunderstandings.

--------------------------------------------------------

[relto]

gotta love that all the php docs you can find tell you that calling oci_new_descriptor will let you create an empty lob object, which keeps failing, and then i find a random bug report from 2006 about this exact thing not working and it turns out this function does in fact NOT create a valid lob object.

[trainsinanime]

I've seen a number of people worried and concerned about this language on Ao3s current "agree to these terms of service" page. The short version is:

Don't worry. This isn't anything bad. Checking that box just means you forgive them for being US American.

Long version: This text makes perfect sense if you're familiar with the issues around GDPR and in particular the uncertainty about Privacy Shield and SCCs after Schrems II. But I suspect most people aren't, so let's get into it, with the caveat that this is a Eurocentric (and in particular EU centric) view of this.

The basic outline is that Europeans in the EU have a right to privacy under the EU's General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), an EU directive (let's simplify things and call it an EU law) that regulates how various entities, including companies and the government, may acquire, store and process data about you.

The list of what counts as data about you is enormous. It includes things like your name and birthday, but also your email address, your computers IP address, user names, whatever. If an advertiser could want it, it's on the list.

The general rule is that they can't, unless you give explicit permission, or it's for one of a number of enumerated reasons (not all of which are as clear as would be desirable, but that's another topic). You have a right to request a copy of the data, you have a right to force them to delete their data and so on. It's not quite on the level of constitutional rights, but it is a pretty big deal.

In contrast, the US, home of most of the world's internet companies, has no such right at a federal level. If someone has your data, it is fundamentally theirs. American police, FBI, CIA and so on also have far more rights to request your data than the ones in Europe.

So how can an American website provide services to persons in the EU? Well… Honestly, there's an argument to be made that they can't.

US websites can promise in their terms and conditions that they will keep your data as safe as a European site would. In fact, they have to, unless they start specifically excluding Europeans. The EU even provides Standard Contract Clauses (SCCs) that they can use for this.

However, e.g. Facebook's T&Cs can't bind the US government. Facebook can't promise that it'll keep your data as secure as it is in the EU even if they wanted to (which they absolutely don't), because the US government can get to it easily, and EU citizens can't even sue the US government over it.

Despite the importance that US companies have in Europe, this is not a theoretical concern at all. There have been two successive international agreements between the US and the EU about this, and both were struck down by the EU court as being in violation of EU law, in the Schrems I and Schrems II decisions (named after Max Schrems, an Austrian privacy activist who sued in both cases).

A third international agreement is currently being prepared, and in the meantime the previous agreement (known as "Privacy Shield") remains tentatively in place. The problem is that the US government does not want to offer EU citizens equivalent protection as they have under EU law; they don't even want to offer US citizens these protections. They just love spying on foreigners too much. The previous agreements tried to hide that under flowery language, but couldn't actually solve it. It's unclear and in my opinion unlikely that they'll manage to get a version that survives judicial review this time. Max Schrems is waiting.

So what is a site like Ao3 to do? They're arguably not part of the problem, Max Schrems keeps suing Meta, not the OTW, but they are subject to the rules because they process stuff like your email address.

Their solution is this checkbox. You agree that they can process your data even though they're in the US, and they can't guarantee you that the US government won't spy on you in ways that would be illegal for the government of e.g. Belgium. Is that legal under EU law? …probably as legal as fan fiction in general, I suppose, which is to say let's hope nobody sues to try and find out.

But what's important is that nothing changed, just the language. Ao3 has always stored your user name and email address on servers in the US, subject to whatever the FBI, CIA, NSA and FRA may want to do it. They're just making it more clear now.

[crypto195]

ERC-7231 Has Finally Unlocked The Door To A Truly User-Owned Internet

Introducing ERC-7231: The Future of Digital Identity Management The Ethereum blockchain world has unleashed a host of innovations over the last couple of years, with its switch to a proof-of-stake consensus algorithm through “The Merge” and the adoption of its ERC-721 token standard, which led to the introduction of smart wallets. Now, we’re witnessing yet another monumental change with the introduction and growing adoption of the new ERC-7231 standard, which promises to forever change the way people perceive and manage their digital identities. It’s a potentially revolutionary development that has major implications for non-fungible tokens and soul-bound tokens, representing the latest beacon of progress in blockchain privacy and data ownership. Introducing ERC-7231 The ERC-7231 standard is really just an extension of the popular ERC-721 standard that provides a set of guidelines and rules for minting fungible tokens and NFTs on Ethereum. ERC-721 has become widely known as the “NFT standard”, and has been used to mint millions of NFTs already. With ERC-7231, that standard is evolving to introduce an idea known as “identity binding”, which enables the possibility of numerous individual identities from Web2 and Web3 to be merged. The identities are all linked to the same, unique NFT. In addition, it also allows for those identities to be represented as an SBT, which is a special kind of non-transferable NFT that has emerged as a popular solution for identity applications, proving someone’s credentials, reputation and achievements without revealing their identity.

To Know More- Read the latest Blogs on Cryptocurrencies

[dawnled]

tag post #2 ( character tags ) !

[ceausescue]

been consumed with the idea for the worst programming language in the world. a lisp 2 with clojure syntax, bytecode interpreted. with goroutines. like janet written by a moron, like common lisp written by someone who hates themselves. hand rolled garbage collector that has to deal with all the intermediate objects from immutable types. im tagging like 11 bits out of every pointer, 3 on the small end and 8 suspended in the middle of the top 16, which is a violation of the geneva convention. none of those bits encode the type and im still boxing floats. pretty sure i worked out how to support special environments that compile to totally untypechecked machine code for fast math. came up with an inline assembly thing for it i might just expose to the user. i don't expect ill ever bother with networking

[ritika-25]

Two-way data binding is a powerful feature provided by Angular that allows data to flow bidirectionally between the component and the template. It enables automatic synchronization between the user interface (UI) elements and the underlying data in the component.

[nerdygirlramblings]

previous

Nearly half an hour later, Gaz leads you to a table along the dance floor. You've been collecting scraps of data every time he's waltzed you past Spinner's table, but without Arella on the hook, the op's about to be a bust. Suddenly, Gaz's eyes widen just a fraction, so quickly you could blink and miss it, but you don't blink, and you have a sneaking suspicion about what caused that reaction when you hear a pleasant voice behind you ask you for a dance. Gaz's reaction is the only warning you have to the fact that Spinner is standing there, hand out, wrist up, waiting for you.

You turn with a smile already on your lips and Price's voice in your ear, whispering, "Don't put yerself in danger, but see what ya can learn."

From the frown on his face, you know Gaz heard the Captain as well and isn't happy. You gently take Spinner's hand in yours and inhale the scent of linen and leather. It reminds you of secondhand bookshops, old tomes and leather binding with yellowed pages. It's a scent heavy that evokes a long history and rich legacy.

As is polite protocol, you flip your wrist and place it in his hand. He leans over and inhales deeply. You try to suffuse your scent with interest, slight enough to read as curiosity rather than desire. You lean to Gaz and brush a quick kiss near his ear, whispering, "Stay calm," before pulling back and more loudly announcing, "I'll be back in a moment."

Neither of you thought to play up a romance between you, which gave Spinner the opening to ask in the first place. A cheek kiss won't dissuade the man at this point, but it's a clear signal to him that you plan to return to your date. It's your only insurance to keep yourself safe.

Spinner gently takes your hand and pulls you onto the dance floor. His hold on you is tighter than Gaz's had been, and when you glance over, he's white-knuckling his glass. Trying to put your unease out of your mind, and clear it from your scent, you turn back to Spinner. On those outings around base, one of the most important things Price told you was to let your target share things of their own accord. Ask too many questions, and you'll look suspicious. But provide an opening, and you may get far more information.

So instead of saying anything, you let Spinner twirl you around while the music plays. Eventually he leans forward and takes another deep inhale. If you weren't sure of his secondary status before, this bold move screams alpha. But you bite your tongue and bide your time.

Spinner leans back and looks you in the eye. "I haven't been able to keep my mind my eyes off you. That dress and that collar make you hard to miss."

You thank him with a slight dip of your head and small, coy smile. He continues, "How have I never seen you at these kind of events, Miss..." He trails off leaving you space to introduce yourself. You give him your callsign, well versed at this point in how to turn it around into a cover. "Wren?" he asks, "like the bird?"

Another smile graces your lips, and you let your eyes briefly meet his. "Yes. My parents gave me the name hoping one day I'd grow wings, Mister..." You trail off as he had done. Though you know who he is, you want to see what information he'll give you voluntarily.

"Spinner, my dear. The name's Albert Spinner. But we don't need to be so formal, do we? You can call me Albert." He hand flexes around your waist, enough to let you know he's in charge and to call him by his name. There's no point in trying to resist as you want to keep him calm and talking.

You consciously work to school your accent into something acceptable in Spinner's circles. "Pleasure to meet you, Albert," you say. "You didn't recognize me because it's my first time at something so fancy. Do you attend these kind of functions often? I didn't even know about it until my friend," you tilt your head to the table where Gaz watches you both, "received tickets from his boss."

Spinner laughs, a deep rich sound that carries an undercurrent of condescension. "For some of us, these things happen far too frequently." You let him continue to spin you. "Why, I was at one in Kensington two months ago, and there's another gala slated for sometime next month in Waterloo."

"All charity auctions? For the same charity?" you ask, knowing, or at least guessing, the answer.

That laugh again. Grating. Though maybe only because you know something about this facade and the man underneath he seems desperate to hide. "Obviously not, Wren. Can't bleed a blue blood dry for the same cause over and over," he says. "But they're good opportunities to network. See who makes an appearance. Be seen." He leers at you at this last. "You must like being seen, Wren, dressed like that."

Your nerves spike, and you tamp down on the fear before it can send a slice of acid cutting through your scent. Spinner is a predator, and he's focused on you. You risk eye contact again and see his pupils dilate as he takes a slow, measured breath. "Don't be too scared, Wren. I don't see the point of putting birds in cages." His smile is sharp, all teeth. Your omega is clawing at the back of your brain, desperate to be away and safe. Dancing with him was a mistake.

Just as you're about to turn around and leave him, Price's voice cuts through your spiraling panic. "Ren, we've got ya. Gaz is thirty feet away, and me, Ghost, Soap 'ave eyes and ears on the whole ballroom." It gives you the reminder you need to recenter.

Spinner can't touch you with your team here. The song ends and though Spinner grabs for your hand, you smile, pour some exhaustion into your scent, and say, "Thank you, Mr. Spinner, Albert, for the dance. Maybe another time?" You slip through a few people before you chance a look back. There's a rigid set to Spinner's shoulders as he makes his way back to the table he'd been using, and you see disappointment on the face of the woman waiting there.

You don't know if you made an enemy or not, but you're sure Laswell and the others seriously underestimate Spinner.

Two more hours pass before Price calls it. Spinner and the woman who had been at his table left the main ballroom an hour after your dance. Arella still hasn't made an appearance. "Get back upstairs," Price calls over the comms. "We'll break down and debrief wi' Laswell before headin' back to base."

The whole evening has felt off. You're still not entirely comfortable or confident with these kids of ops, but what gets you most tonight is Spinner's comments. If you had a mating mark, would he have been so bold? It almost feels like the universe is reminding you of the protection a pack would provide.

Laswell's understandably disappointed that Arella didn't show, and while she grumbles about the sheer volume of data her analysts will have to sift through, you don't miss the nod of respect she directs at you. You share what Spinner said about the other event he attended and the one he implied he would be at soon. "I don't know if it's anything, but he seems like the kind of man who isn't going to come to something like this if there isn't a reason, something he can gain from it," you say. She tells you she'll have someone cross check the Kensington event timeline with suspicious activity.

As Price ends the call, you slip into the room next door and pull the dress off, sliding it neatly onto the hanger and pulling the garment bag over it. You treat the jewelry the same way, carefully placing it back in its boxes. Maybe it can be reused? You have nowhere to wear it, but the thought of it on someone else pains you.

The standard issue shirt and trousers irritate you more than normal, your skin having so quickly acclimated to the soft caress of the dress. Between the five of you, the room is stripped and packed and ready to move in less than thirty minutes. Everyone carries multiple cases down a hallway that seems miles long. The service elevator ride to the transport feels interminable. After everything is loaded into the boot, with your dress draped gently on top, you pile into the rear seat with Soap and Gaz.

They feel so much closer to you than they did on the drive into London, encroaching on your space. You squirm in your seat, trying to get comfortable between them. Your clothes scratch across your skin every time you move. You know your frustration is bleeding into your scent and try desperately to tamp it down, ignoring the looks Soap and Gaz throw in your direction. Make it back to base, just make it back to base you tell yourself. Then you can figure out what has you so turned around.

What seems like hours later, surveillance equipment is dropped off, the truck is back in base transport, and you're finally back in your barracks. The ballroom didn't seem too hot at the time, and being stuck between the two sergeants was uncomfortable but not cloying. But it must have been warmer than you realized because you're sweating. You strip off your top and trousers, quickly rearranging the blankets and things on your bed. As you toss your clothes in the hamper, your eyes flick to the calendar on the wall.

Your heart stops, and the blood drains from your face.

The uncomfortable clothes. How long things seem to take, moments stretching out like molasses. Being overly warm. Fixing your blankets.

Your heat is coming. Quickly. Before panic settles in, you scramble into your clothes again and head out the door to Price's office. You need a conversation with your Captain. Now.

next

series masterlist | main masterlist

~~

taglist: @sirbonesly @z-wantstowrite @thriving-n-jiving @cecelia97 @theycallmevalen @boogeysmoth @cryingpages @riley13 @luxylucylou @lucienofthelakes @ilyztwo @chaosundcoffee @lostintransist @thegreyjoyed @honestlymassivetrash @thebumbqueen @maliamaiden @mordacioust @bina-passion-fruit @kittygonap @wanderingoperator @marsbars09 @kawaii-michealmyers @muraaaaaa @rpgsandstuff @casualhel @akilababs @thatbeach0

[relto]

the docs for the regular variable bind say that you can reuse statements by simply assigning the bound variables new values, and well it looks like that was a lie too.

[dduane]

Dear Diane, I'm in a bind as a professional writer/editor. The higher-ups at my job (small outfit for popular sci/tech publications; think New Scientist-esque media) are increasing eager to use ChatGPT/genAI tools to "enhance our workflows" in writing/editing/design. This includes "brainstorming" creative concepts with genAI, touching up incomplete images, etc. They won't listen if I just list the ethical reasons this is Bad; do you have business/industry-side points for the case? Facts, data...

I wouldn't have anything business-adjacent. But let me point to this on Bluesky and see if anybody there can make some useful suggestions.

...My own sense, which would be anecdotal from things I've seen people say over the last six months or so, would be that adding ChatGPT/genAi to the process would be likely to introduce more problems than it (putatively) solves, and would in the long run slow down any projected workflow rather than speeding it up. ...But let's see what the people at the coalface have to say.

Thanks for the query!

[staratinia]

Handcuffed

This work contains smut - minors do not interact

Pairing: Mello x Fem!reader x Near

Synopsis: Mello and Near are handcuffed together and the cuffs will not come off unless certain specific circumstances occur...they require your assistance.

Warnings: Explicit smut

A/N: I know this is different.. I had to get creative. I felt a forced situation was the only way Mello and Near would ever do this together. For the anon who suggested poly- I hope you enjoy this.

wc: 1.8k

_________________________________________

You’re curled sideways in an office chair, one leg draped over the armrest, a cold energy drink sweating in your palm. The ops room is a wreck of cluttered desks, empty takeout boxes, loose wires, the smell of three different kinds of instant noodles clinging to the air like regret.

Mello’s pacing like he’s got a bomb ticking under his skin. Every few laps, he runs a hand through his messy blond hair like it personally offended him.

Near’s on the floor, cross-legged in a sea of puzzle pieces, holding a stylus between two fingers and methodically building a tower of numbered data cards. He hasn't looked up in at least forty-five minutes.

Matt’s the only one enjoying himself. He’s half-sprawled on a desk, red goggles pushed up to his forehead, Game Boy forgotten in his lap, a smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth as he digs through a dusty lockbox labeled ARCHIVE: CLASSIFIED – UNUSABLE ARTIFACTS.

“Hey,” he calls lazily. “You guys ever hear of ‘conflict-resolution cuffs’?”

Near doesn’t respond. Mello doesn’t stop pacing. “The fuck is that, a kink toy?”

Matt pulls something shiny from the box. Metal glints under the overheads—sleek cuffs, silver but inscribed with something that shimmers when he tilts them.

"Magical containment? Binding rituals? You know how they loved that esoteric bullshit"

Near speaks without looking up. “Most of the Archive is unstable or unproven. Do not engage with any items marked in red.”

“They weren’t red,” Matt says, squinting. “They were.... more of a soft rose gold.”

Mello mutters, “If this is another one of your dumbass jokes—”

“Relax.” Matt flicks the cuffs open one-handed, grinning. “They probably don’t even—”

He’s suddenly beside Near. Near looks up. First mistake. Matt snaps one cuff onto Near’s wrist with a sharp click.

“Matt.” Near’s voice doesn’t change, but his fingers freeze mid-stack.

Mello whirls. “Are you fucking kidding me—”

Before you can say a word, Matt turns and slaps the second cuff onto Mello’s wrist.

Click.

There’s a flash of cold light—like a camera bulb and static hitting skin—and then the air feels wrong. Heavier. You feel it. The room does. The whole dynamic shifts.

Mello’s hand twitches. The chain between their wrists is taut. Seamless. No lock. No hinge. No keyhole.

“Matt—” you start, rising.

Matt’s already backing toward the hallway, arms raised in surrender. “Hey, look. If it makes you feel better, I genuinely didn’t think it would work. I was just bored.”

“You moron!” Mello yells, yanking at the cuff. The chain doesn’t even creak. “You cuffed me to him?!”

“You’re welcome!” Matt’s already halfway out the door, grabbing his console on the way. “You two have unresolved tension! This is basically therapy!”

“This is magical fucking bondage therapy!” Mello shouts.

Matt winks at you before disappearing into the hallway. “Good luck, sweetheart. You’re their emotional support peacemaker now.”

The door slams shut.

You've been reading up. The archives are vast. Obscure tomes on magical devices. You finally find it—Soulbind Cuffs: R13 series. Intended as a last-resort bonding tool for high-stakes diplomacy or… couples therapy??

You read the fine print.

Cuffs will only disengage upon shared, consensual emotional alignment. Intimacy accelerates process. Completion of mutual release—emotional, physical—breaks the tether.

You reread that line five times.

Then look up. The boys are glaring at each other across the coffee table, one shared wrist between them. Mello’s sweating, hair stuck to his cheek. Near is tapping a Rubik’s Cube, unblinking.

You clear your throat.

“So. I figured it out.”

Two sets of eyes snap to you.

“They won’t come off unless you both—” you gesture vaguely “—achieve mutual climax. Together.”

Dead silence.

Mello goes red instantly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“It’s magic!” you throw your hands up. “It doesn’t care about gender or preference or grudges. It wants to see two bonded souls climax together. Emotionally. Physically. Whatever. It's metaphysical synergy.”

Near’s head tilts. “A forced sexual ritual.”

“Don’t call it that,” you groan.

Mello’s voice drops. “We’re not doing it.”

Near nods. “Agreed.”

You sigh. “Then you’ll be like this forever.”

“I’d rather die,” Mello snarls.

“I’d rather wait,” Near says blandly.

You just shake your head.

Mello growls, yanks at the cuff again—still nothing.

You don’t speak either. You just walk toward them. Unhurried. Hands loose at your sides. You kneel in front of them—between them—rest your palms on your thighs. Steady. Present.

“I’m not saying you two have to fuck each other.” That gets their attention. You breathe. “But I can help. If you let me.”

Mello narrows his eyes. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

Near’s eyes are fixed on your mouth. “You believe... you could stimulate both of us to simultaneous orgasm?” His voice is calm, clinical, but there’s a flicker there. A pulse under his skin.

You sigh. “You’re the ones chained together. Unless you’ve got a spell I don’t know about, this is the only way.”

Mello rubs his face. “I can’t believe this is happening. With him.”

“I’m not pleased either,” Near replies, adjusting the angle of his knees.

“Oh shut up, you don’t feel anything.”

“I feel irritation...you are the source.”

_____________

The room’s warm. Lamp low. No one’s talking anymore. The air feels loaded, like static—like something wants to snap.

You’ve peeled your shirt off, unhurried, sitting cross-legged in front of them on the rug. Mello’s leaned back on his hands, arms tense. Near sits perfectly upright, but his jaw flexes.

They’re both watching you. Their bodies still separated by the inch-thick chain, wrists close but nothing else. They refuse to touch.

So you crawl forward.

“This isn’t about you two liking each other,” you murmur, reaching up to rest a hand on each of their thighs. “It’s about needing each other. Right now. In this moment. To get out of this.”

Mello doesn’t answer. He’s biting the inside of his cheek. Near nods once, robotically.

You start slow. Fingers first, brushing over the front of Mello’s pants. He’s already half-hard. No surprise. All that rage, tension, frustration—it’s sitting right there under the surface, waiting to break.

He lets out a breath through his nose, sharp and ragged. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not,” you whisper.

You turn to Near, and his eyes are on your hands, blinking slow. His cock is delicate, flushed against pale thighs. You palm it gently. He exhales.

Mello scoffs. “Bet he’s never even been touched.”

“By people with manners? No,” Near replies evenly.

“Fucking hell—” Mello grits

“You’re really responsive,” you say, and smirk when he glares.

You turn to Near, he doesn’t even blink. Just watches the whole time as your hand slides against him. His breath stutters when your fingers close around him.

You stroke them both—two different bodies, two different pulses. Mello wants pressure. Speed. Your wrist aches trying to keep up. Near needs rhythm, precision. He twitches if you deviate. They’re both trying so hard not to show how much they want this.

“Still emotionless, Near?”

His voice is breathy, distant. “Physical responses are not proof of emotional depth.”

Mello barks a laugh. “You’re hard as fuck. What’s that—data collection?”

“Observation,” Near says, eyes fluttering as your thumb brushes his tip.

Two different rhythms. Mello fast, tight, frantic. Near slow and steady, your thumb circling the head of his cock in lazy little patterns that make him twitch. They’re both panting now, shoulders rising and falling like they’ve run miles.

Mello’s eyes are glued to your chest. “Fucking take it off.”

You smile and unhook your bra. Mello groans. Near reaches up like he’s unsure if he can, but you guide his hand to your breast and gasp as his thumb brushes your nipple.

Your moan gets both of them to freeze.

“She’s loud,” Mello mutters. “You like that?”

Near presses his palm against you. “It may assist with... alignment.”

Mello snorts. “Just admit it turns you on.”

“Admitting that would alter the results,” Near murmurs.

You laugh softly, then lean back to peel the rest of your clothes off.

When you’re fully naked, they stop arguing. They’re just watching. You crawl up into Near’s lap, straddle him, and reach back for Mello.

You guide him behind you, feel the burn in your thighs as you press back into his body. Mello groans as his cock glides between your cheeks, hands gripping your hips.

“Still want to kill each other?” you whisper.

Near is breathless. “Temporarily... distracted.”

Mello’s mouth is against your neck now. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

You slide down onto Near first. His cock fills you, inch by inch, and his breath punches out of his lungs. He’s frozen beneath you, gripping your thighs like they’re lifelines. Then you brace yourself and reach back—

Mello pushes in slowly. Gritting his teeth. “Jesus, fuck—”

You’re full. Too full. Both of them buried deep in you, your whole body trembling as you try to breathe around the feeling. They don’t move. Just pant. Wait.

“Move,” Mello growls. “Please.”

You do. It starts slow—grinding your hips, feeling both of them rub against your walls, your insides pulsing around them. Mello thrusts once, sharp. You cry out. Near groans softly, his head tipped back.

You ride Near with long, rolling motions, your clit brushing against his stomach. Mello fucks into you harder now, faster, his hands sliding up your spine. One of his fingers tangles in your hair, pulling just enough to make your breath catch.

“You’re taking it,” he growls. “So fucking good.”

“She’s very warm,” Near says softly. “Tight. Applying correct amount of pressure.”

“You say that like you’re grading an assignment,” Mello snaps, but his voice cracks on the last word. He’s close. So close.

You’re shaking now—full, stretched to your limits, Near seated deep inside you while Mello drives in from behind, his pace steady but cruel, testing your limits.

You’re not just between them—you’re the bridge. Their bodies only joined through yours. And they’re not giving in easily.

“I don’t see how this is supposed to help,” Mello growls against your shoulder. His breath is ragged, cock twitching inside you with every grind. “He’s not even touching you right.”

Near blinks up at you from below, cheeks flushed, hands tightening on your waist. “Incorrect. Her pupils dilate when I stroke her clit counterclockwise.”

You laugh through a gasp. “He’s not wrong.”

Near’s thumb slides between you, slow and exact, pressing just under your clit in a way that makes your body jerk. Mello’s grip tightens. You feel the cuff pulse with magic, heat flaring between their wrists like it knows they’re teetering.

You roll your hips forward, squeezing both of them from inside. Mello groans. “Shit—don’t do that—”

You smile, breathless. “You close already?”

“I’m not—” he growls, but he thrusts harder, desperate to regain control.

Near’s voice is thin now. “I believe your pelvic rhythm is faltering.”

You moan, sharp, overstimulated now. Near’s cock presses deliciously against that tender spot inside you, and Mello’s rutting deep, his thrusts rough enough to make you tremble.

“Come on Mello, prove you’re better,” you whisper. “Fuck me harder.”

That does it.

Mello grabs your hips and slams into you, rhythm quickening, chasing something now. You gasp, clutching Near’s shoulders, your body caught between them like a live wire. The air smells like sweat and sex and magic burning out.

Your moan cuts them off—high and broken, thighs trembling as your orgasm threatens again, creeping up, so damn close.

You clench around both of them. They both twitch. You slow your movement just enough to make them groan.

“Don’t stop,” Mello growls, panting now. “I swear to god—”

“She’s edging us,” Near says, tone somehow still flat.

“She’s gonna kill us.”

You’re close. But you don’t let go yet.

You slow it down again—grind forward, rolling your hips just right. Near twitches inside you, whimpering, his forehead pressed to your chest.

You glance over your shoulder. Mello’s watching you both like he’s been denied air. You lean back into him, and he licks a stripe up your spine. He’s losing control. You can feel it.

“She’s gonna cum,” he pants. “You can feel it. She’s—fuck—she’s squeezing so hard—”

“We have to time it,” Near gasps.

“I know.”

Mello’s hand snakes around you, joining Near’s, both thumbs pressing your clit now in rhythm. You scream—raw and real—as your orgasm surges up, almost there—

But you don’t fall- Not yet. You ride the edge. Over and over. Your body clenching, thighs shaking, everything strung tight as they both work you toward it. One more second. One more thrust. One more slow, circling press—

And then Mello snaps.

“Now—fuck—now—”

Near arches under you, voice breaking.

And you let go.

It hits like fire—every nerve bursting open, you're clamping down, you scream—legs shaking, body convulsing around them as you lock down hard, milking them. as both of them cry out, twitching inside you, pouring into you, their hands locking on your body as they lose everything.

The cuffs explode.

A flash of white light. A high-pitched crack. Metal hitting the floor with twin clinks.

You collapse, limp and slick with sweat, breath heaving in your throat.

Mello slumps forward, panting against your back.

Near goes still beneath you, eyes closed, his chest rising and falling fast, but even.

Nobody speaks. Until—

“You edged me for fifteen minutes,” Mello says, voice hoarse.

You smile. “You needed the attitude adjustment.”

“She’s... efficient,” Near murmurs.

You roll off them with a groan. “I need water”

No one moves for a while. Then Mello says, “You’re seriously not gonna look at me right now, are you?”

“I’m preserving what little sanity I have left,” Near murmurs.

“You literally came while I was inside her.”

“So did you.”

“I hate this.”

From the hallway, you hear:

“Yo, did it work?” Matt’s voice. “Are the chains off?”

Mello throws the broken cuff at him. “I hope your controller gets stuck on ‘up.’”

Matt grins and ducks. You laugh. Your thighs hurt. Your whole body aches. But the cuffs are gone. “Next time he plays matchmaker, I’m burning the Archive.”

[tomorrowusa]

COVID-19 has not gone away. It keeps mutating into new variants, and NB.1.8.1 is one we should be concerned about.

Public-health experts have warned for months that the COVID-19 virus isn’t gone—and, far from waning, SARS-CoV-2 has mutated yet again into a new variant. Called NB.1.8.1, it's causing a spike in infections in China. A few cases also recently appeared in the U.S. when people arriving at airports tested positive, according to a statement from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC). The World Health Organization has also designated it as a “variant under monitoring.” [ ... ] Symptoms are similar to those linked to other COVID-19 strains and include sore throat, fever, cough, and fatigue. So far, based on data from other countries where cases have been reported, the variant does not seem to cause more severe disease—but genetically, it is equipped with changes that allow it be infect cells more efficiently. That means it could spread more easily among people.

So it's average severity for COVID but can apparently be spread more easily.

Unfortunately, "Worm Brain" RFK Jr. is making it more difficult to get vaccinated.

Getting vaccinated, however, may become harder for other groups. In a series of unusual moves, U.S. Health Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. announced that the CDC will no longer recommend a yearly shot for healthy children and pregnant women; the FDA recently said it will not recommend it for healthy adults until vaccine makers conduct additional studies to prove its safety and effectiveness in this population. These changes mean that insurers may no longer cover the shot, and people who want to get vaccinated may have to pay out of pocket.

The Guardian adds this.

Like its predecessors, NB.1.8.1 carries mutations in the spike protein. This is the protein on the surface of the virus that allows it to infect us – specifically via the ACE2 receptors, a “doorway” to our cells. The mutations include T22N, F59S, G184S, A435S, V445H, and T478I. It’s early days for this variant, so we don’t have much data on what these changes mean yet. But a recent preprint (a study that has not yet been peer-reviewed) offers some clues about why NB.1.8.1 may be gathering traction. Using lab-based models, researchers found NB.1.8.1 had the strongest binding affinity to the human ACE2 receptor of several variants tested – suggesting it may infect cells more efficiently than earlier strains.

So get the latest booster while it's still free. And it probably wouldn't hurt to wear a face mask when in crowded places like public transit.

[donutz]

Sebastian Solace x mute & transgender! reader

It's your first time meeting Sebastian, though.. Your kind soul warms his cold heart

— Sebastian doesn't have that much of a cold heart though so Idk where I was going with that one

Warning: Stitches and needles; Mentions of gashes; Sebastian warms up pretty quickly, I don't like it that much but hey🤷‍♀️; "Signing, looks, like, this".; There's tension, not sure if it's sexual but there's tension;

Speed walking through the halls, you constantly looked around you. Anxious for another monster to pop up. Especially those Squiddles… When it came to even darker rooms you jogged through, hating it when you had to search for a keycard.

You were injured, not too bad. Just a gash in your thigh.

*Good thing it couldn’t chop off anything..*

*I wish it got chopped off.*

It’s hard to breathe or really walk anywhere with your binding(If you do bind). After that ‘minor’ injury, you searched through the drawers and lockers, looking for a medkit. Since you found a flashlight earlier, it might be possible to find a medkit.

You look up at the door number, slightly aching your eyes. Immediately looking down at the ground, you repeat what you saw in your head.

‘Door 48’.

It hurts to blink, to walk. Limping your way into the next room. Expecting anything, except a flying vent grille.

“Got something for ya, come here”.

You jump, yipping in your head. You look around for any flashing lights or peering bright green eyes. Maybe even a squiddle? No, none of them.

“C’monnn, I got good things for you, my own shop.”

You physically quivered. Walking over to the vent, and exhaling while crawling through the tight space. Your wound opening up more.

Reaching the end of the vent, you look around, not seeing much. Until a comforting light turns on.

“Welcome, welcome”!

You jump. Bumping your head against the metal vent.

“Oh… You alright?”

Sebastian wasn’t sure why he said that. He just met you! Worrying about a human… Ridiculous.

You shake your head in response. Bumping your head hurt more than it normally would. You’re stressed, hurt, and scared. Not a great combo.

You look at him, signing, “You,speak, sign, language?”

Sebastian’s eyebrows(?) rose.

“Oh! Um”..

“No”. He accidentally signs.

You tilt your head, confused. 

“You.. Don’t”??

He lightly slaps his face. Realizing he said the wrong thing.

“No I do, kind of”.

“I, just, signed, the, wrong, thing”. He sighs.

You show a surprised look on your face. Though it’s not very visible through your darkened visor. You smile, happy that someone could finally understand you. Even if they weren’t really human.

“I’ll talk, though. If that’s.. Nevermind, my name is Sebastian.”

You finally crawl out of the vent, more comfortable now that you know he’s more kind than any other monster down here. Looking around it seems like this small area is a shop.

Oh wait, he said that earlier.

“If I’m correct, you’re… Instructors told you to grab a crystal and secure loose assets. Well as a trade, you give me the data and I give you useful items. It seems like you need a healing tool for that… Gash”.

It seems like you forgot all about that. Maybe it was because you were too focused on Sebastian.

“Well I do have a medkit for that, just 250 research will do the trick.”

Opening your bag, you check how much you have. Your bag pops up a holographic screen of the amount of data you’ve collected.

Around 1755 data.. That’s more than enough.

You walk over to his tail, picking up the medkit and setting it on the ground to collect the right amount of data for it. Maybe even adding an extra tip to give to Sebastian.

You hand him 300 research, smiling because of your appreciation for his kindness. He counts how much there are, his mouth scrunching from confusion.

“Hey— you.. Gave me extra. It’s only 250—”

“I, know”.

“I, just, wanted, to, give, you, extra. Because, of, how, kind, you’ve, been, to, me”.

It was as if your face was glowing within your gear. You’re a very kind human.

“... Why thank you”. But this isn’t a trick right? Urbanshade isn’t trying to make me all soft?

I’m not sure if I can trust this one.

You buy the flash beacon next, giving him the correct amount. Now you only have 1205 research left. Standing up, you hear a pop in your knees from crouching.

Sebastian visibly cringes from that sound, he isn’t very used to that sound. Not anymore.

Peering at the table, you spot a document. Sebastian looks away from you, looking at the light meters high.

You look at him, and he looks back at you. Side eyeing.

“Who’s, document, is, this”?

“That document is mine.. Urbanshade makes documents on every creature or prisoner they have. They probably even have one on you”.

You look back at the document, pondering.

“Is, this, for, sale”?

“Yes, for 1000 research of course”.

You’re surprised at that large amount of ‘money’, but it is reasonable. It’s not like you would want anybody reading a document about you for a small amount. Especially if you’re more of a private person.

“I’ll, buy, it”.

Sebastian’s mouth lightly gapes, “You really have that much”?

You giggle, nodding at him, finding his surprised look funny. You hand over the data, while Sebastian smiles. Mainly because he can use this against Urbanshade, but also because of you. You’re not really like any other human he’s seen or heard of. 

You’re a kind soul.

“I’ll have that ready for you when you’re at the surface”.

Smiling even wider, you step, putting a bit too much pressure on your right leg, causing a sharp pain to shoot throughout it.

You whimper, stepping closer to the wall to sit down. Right near the vent.

“Oh my, you really need that fixed don’t you”?

Nodding, you sigh.

“Do, you, know, how, to, stitch”?

He’s taken aback, it’s not like he thought you knew how to stitch an injury or something. It’s just because he might have to get close. Close to a human.

“I-.. Yes. I do”. He stuttered.

You notice his visible discomfort and worriedly sign, “You, don’t, have, to, if, you, don’t, want, to. I, see, that, you’ve, gone, through, enough, already”.

“When, it, comes, to, humans.” 

He gasps, staying silent as he takes in what you signed. Yes, he has been through enough when it comes through humans.

But you’re different.

“No it’s fine r-really! I’ll stitch it up for you”. He's still not sure why he's acting like this.

He bends down to your height, being careful with his tail. He’d let you rest against it but… Maybe that’s too far.

A few seconds later, he has the smaller needles and thread carefully sat  between his larger claws.

It’s quiet, minus the low ringing of the lights, and the slight swoosh of the fan.

“Okay uhm.. Deep.. Breaths…”

Inhale

He sticks the small needle through your skin, flinching at the feeling. Though it wasn’t too bad.. Just a hard pinch.

Exhaleee….

You might as well fall asleep because of the earlier adrenaline. And god. That hurt. Nevermind a hard pinch, that felt like getting— Ughh. I don’t even want to describe it.

You throw your head back looking up at the heightened ceiling.

… Do you think that’s where Sebastian crawled from?

Like maybe in a vent or something..?

… Sorry—

Pinch!

You grab his sleeve.

“I’m sorry alright! I don’t mean to—” He looks at you. Letting out a sigh.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just…” He inhaled.

Looking at him, “Stressed”? You signed.

Scrunching his eyes, glad you know what he’s feeling. 

Exhaling, “Yeah. Stressed”.

“It’s, okay. I, don’t, mind. I’m, not, the, one, stitching, after, all”. You let out a small laugh. So does he.

“.. Thank you”.

He loops through 3 more times, just one more loop left. During the three loops, you were holding his hand. Warming it up, warm blooded and cold blooded.

Literally and mentally.

“Alright just one more left and we’re done”.

Finally.

Going through the last loop, he tightens the stitches, holding your hand tighter now that he’s finishes his work.

You observe it, astonished at the fine service.

Looking up at him, smiling, you sign, “Thank, you”.

“S, E, B, A, S, T, I, A, N”.

“You’re.. Welcome”...

You slowly start to lose your vision, falling to your right, which leads to Sebastian catching your body with his tail.

“O- Oh”...

I did a different writing style on purpose, I think. Idk I wanted to sound like a professional writer on A03.