#it makes tech less effective??

[danielnelsen]

things aren’t going well with peach. while i think my dad’s very right to be concerned that she hasn’t eaten anything in nearly 60 hours (obviously i am too), im becoming increasingly concerned that she hasn’t slept at all in around 36 hours and prior to that she was under anaesthetic, which isn’t exactly restful, so it’s closer to 48 hrs

like dad took her back to the vet today and we’ve got injections for her painkillers now because she’s not eating, and also injections for fluids (because she doesn’t drink; she only gets water from her food), so the not eating is Bad but also kinda under management, but if she doesn’t sleep soon i’m extremely worried. dad was like ‘if she doesn’t eat by tomorrow afternoon we’ll take her back because the injections will run out’ but like. if she doesn’t sleep tonight we have GOT to take her back first thing in the morning so they can sedate her or something

[ibrokeeverything]

Why do so many people think that "filler" is the devil??? I've seen so many people complain every time there's an episode that's not 100% plot relevant, even if the episode is objectively good.

So many people seem to think that there's nothing of value in those "filler" episodes, which is just simply not true. They can be great for character development, relationship development, world building, etc. But, also just in pure entertainment value. At the end of the day, TV is made to entertain people. Yes, it can be more than that, but it doesn't always have to be. There is just as much value in a silly adventure of the week as there is in a dense, dramatic, plot-filled episode.

[buzz-in-your-veins]

Oops, did i do that?

Accidentally sending a spicy pic to your crush.

The reader is more fem dressed and has a vagina in this- if you want a part b where they don’t have outfits just let me know!

CW: Gender Neutral reader with a vagina and fem-like fashion, reader wears bras, no mention of having boobs.

Vox

Vox hadn’t known you for very long, you were one of the newer demons working for him. You’d applied for the job a few months ago.

In that time he’d seen you about four times, but he was honestly thinking of promoting you, you were amazing at your job, good with both the data and the customers, the only thing it seemed you couldn’t do, was look at your contacts.

You weren’t working tomorrow, so you’d gone out with your friends, you’d purposefully gone to one of the only clubs in the pride ring that wasn’t owned by a member of the V’s, in an effort not to run into your new boss.

You’d gone all out tonight, spurred on by your friends, see, you had a minor crush on the TV demon, not that you’d ever entertain it. However, your friends had picked your outfit tonight, and you ended up in a gorgeous (if a bit slutty) royal blue dress, sleeveless and short, with a glittery tulle overlay, and some beautiful electric red heels.

You were messing on with your friends in the bathroom, taking photos and just genuinely having fun, already beyond tipsy now. You were sending a photo of you and another friend in the mirror to your group chat, your friend had taken the time you were fixing your hair to add Vox onto the ‘send to’ people, you never noticed.

You also didn’t notice your phone go off when Vox opened it.

If only that was the worst part.

You finished the night absolutely trashed, your friends working together to walk one another home, most living near one another. You, of course, were the odd on out, and the odd number.

You assured your friends it was fine, you lived in VVV tower for Lucifers sake, you’d be fine! Your friends wouldn’t hear it.

One of your friends, less drunk, had messaged one of Velvettes models, whom she used to work with and asked for them to walk you back.

You got back safe and sound, still not having realised you’d sent Vox the bathroom photo, or seeing the demon’s expression as Velvettes model walked you in.

You weren’t quite tired enough to sleep when you were dropped back in your room, so you messed on on your phone for a bit, before undressing. You hadn’t got to taking your make up off or undoing your hair, you’d gotten your dress off, and just.. stopped.

You were in an ethereal lingerie set, clearly made with Vox in mind.

Pretty blue panties hugged your hips, red electric bolts providing straps, the lace comfortable against your pussy, your chest coved with a light blue bralette, lace spilling against your skin, and the most beautiful glitch effect chain snug around your belly.

You matched this with a black thin choker with a hanging blue electric bolt, and posed against your bed, taking a few photos, changing poses and taking more.

Your favourite was one where you were laid flat, the photo taken from above, you could see your entire body, including the heels you still hadn’t taken off, and you were stairing straight at the camera with your painted lips parted.

Satisfied you went to save your photo.

Never noticing you’d sent the same photo to your boss.

Afterall, you hadn’t know to take him off your list.

You were cuddled up asleep, still in the underwear, when Vox opened your photo.

You never noticed the power surge then go out, nor did you notice Vox’s name pop up on your phone.

Angel Dust

Angel had seen you around the hotel more than usual, Charlie said you’d recently quit your job to work for someone else, and it gave you more free time and flexibility.

Angel was happy for you, your boss had been a real price of work.

Still riding the high off getting a better job, you’d invited your friends out clubbing, having received a handsome final salary.

You had chosen to go to Hyper-Tech, one of Vox’s clubs, and one of the best. They had some off the greatest drinks, and, unbeknownst to you, that night they also had Angel Dust dancing.

You friends teased you relentlessly about your crush on the porn star already, and they played this off as purposeful on your part, even though you’d had no idea.

You had started the night feeling confident and pretty in your oulfit, but seeing the spider you felt a flash of self consciousness, after all, your outfit was styled on the spiders own colour theme, an off the shoulder soft pink velvet crop-top, above-knee white loose pleated skirt, and pastel pink heels with a hot pink belt and nail polish.

You friends quickly took care of that, telling you how wonderful you looked, that anyone would be lucky to see you.

And getting you drunk definitely helped, the endless stream of cocktails bought with your money, and eventually dipping into your friends supplies brought on a happy buzz.

They also greatly diminished your ability to think critically.

You never saw how Angel Dust watched you the entire time you were in the club, as you progressively got drunker, to the point Angel was shocked you could still stand, never mind walk.

Your friends however, saw how the renowned demon was watching you with concern and admiration.

They quickly concocted a plan without your input.

Angels set finished around 2 in the morning, he waited in his dressing room for you to leave.

You had planed to walk home with your friends before splitting off to the hotel, but one of your friends changed the plan, stating there was no need for you to walk them home, after all, didn’t you like live in the complete opposite direction? Another friend had ‘needed the bathroom’ and had walked right by Angels door, talking about how you were leaving with the third friend.

As you were arguing about the principle of walking your friends home, Angel Dust came out of club, and said he didn’t mind walking you home, you lived together anyway.

Your friends quickly agreed and left, not allowing you to argue.

The whole walk back you were showered with compliments about your outfit, your dancing, your hair, your ability to drink, everything.

Angel walked you all the way to your room before leaving you.

You started to undress, but decided you wanted a photo for this occasion.

In your underwear, a pretty pale pink push-up bra, and a silky white thong, still in the hot pink heels, you took a photo in the mirror, sat on your knees staring in the mirror.

For some reason, you decided to send that to yourself instead of just saving to camera roll.

Only, you never send it to yourself. After the walk home, Angel had messaged you to sleep well, meaning he was your top contact.

Never thinking to check, you simply threw on a pale pink baby doll, took your heels and make up off, and went to bed.

Alastor

Alastor showing up to help at the hotel had never been in your plan.

The radio demon was always an unobtainable shadow, someone you could safely crush on from your own mind, because he would never be in your reach.

Except..

Now he was.

Now not to be foolish, you had figured from his interactions and reactions that Alastor was most likely somewhere on the Ace or Aro spectrum, and you would never push anything onto him.

But you could never even get close enough to talk to him, never mind ask about the possibility of him being on the spectrum.

So you hid. Everytime Alastor was around, you weren’t.

Alastor was cooking? You weren’t hungry. Al was helping with the daily running? You had work. Alastor was in the library? You didn’t want to read anyways.

Alastor always noticed your absence.

Instead you poured over everything and anything about the radio demon.

When he appeared, what he did, where he could have been in the seven years, his rise to power, his ability’s, his domain, everything.

Your crush on the radio demon was a foolish one, but that didn’t stop you from having it.

From dreaming of picnics and ice cream dates, of long walks down the streets of hell, to him taking you apart with his words alone, voice wrapping around you.

And when he stopped those muggers?

You went weak.

So, yea, your crush was unobtainable, in the highest scene.

You could still dress up though.

And you did, frequently.

In pantsuits of dark crimson, to the bloody scarlet ball gown, for the party.

Alastors eyes never left you that night.

Mostly, it was under your clothes.

Pretty crimson baby dolls. Black lacy thongs. Scarlett bralettes. Everything. Your camera roll was full of photos of yourself in the underwear, posing this way and that, full of imagination and hopes you would never act on.

Oh how you’d positively die if anyone saw.

That didn’t stop you.

Right now you were dressed in a darling crimson corset, embroidered with darker lace, tied tight, paired with dark scarlet panties, pussy damp against the lace as you lost yourself slightly in a fantasy, black heels and a black necklace, you had posed side on to the camera, staring straight ahead, knees folded underneath you and head tilted slightly up, arms held behind your back.

You heard your shutter go off and stood, getting dressed in a black lace camisole, taking of the corset and heels before heading to bed.

Picking your phone up on the way, you saved the photo to your folder.

Surely, you should have expected naming your folder ‘Alastor<3’ to backfire, but..

Maybe this was a Freudian slip?

It’s not like you even noticed you’d sent it, and you were asleep by the time your phone when off.

Lucifer

You’d seen the King of Hell maybe twice, once in passing, and once when he came to the hotel.

It was more than enough for you to crush on the child-like King, falling in love with his attitude and personality, drawn further in by his looks and kindness.

By the time the charity ball came around, you were completely lost for him.

Lucifer showed up in a white suit, not too different from his normal attire, only more fancy, more Kingly, so to speak.

You had taken Angels advice and dressed to impress.

Angel Dust was the only one who knew about the feelings you had for the fallen angel, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it, but he was also your biggest supporter.

You and Angel had knows each other almost as long as you’d been in hell, so his help was soothing for you, and you smiled as the spider laced up the golden gown you’d picked.

It was a golden off-the-shoulder ball gown, with a soft cover of glittery tulle over the top, the skirt flaring out, reaching the floor, covered in rose embroidered embellishments, and paired with bloody red heels, and a glittering clutch.

Charlie had told you all to go all out, and you and Angel did not disappoint.

The two of you descended together, and you caught site of the King before quickly moving your eyes, your blush almost matching your clutch.

Charlie swanned around you, telling you how amazing you looked, and look at your hair!

Angel got you a flute of champagne before leaving you to find Husk.

Traitors.

You walked around the party, dancing with people here and there, doing your best to avoid looking at the King.

You never saw that his eyes never left your form, or how he glared at everyone who touched you.

The king had tried more than once to get close to you, if not to dance with you, to at least tell you how amazing you looked, but you always seemed to move at just the right time.

Charlie had been snapping photos of you the whole night, sending them to her dad, even she saw the two of you pining for one another.

Your flute was never empty, and unfortunately for you, Angel could always recognise when you were about to bolt, and he and Husk would step in to talk to you and prevent it.

Did you mention traitors?

By the time you were finally able to leave, you were definitely tipsy, clutching Angels arm as the two of you ascended the stairs, congratulating yourself on managing to avoid the King.

Angel saw the way Lucifer was watching you, but you didn’t.

By the time you were in your room and Angel had left after unlacimg your dress, ‘we went all blessed with long arms, A——y!’, you wanted a special photo.

So you got ready.

You kept your heels on and striped to your underwear, a strapless golden bra with a red bow in the center, trimmed in lace, and panties to match, also trimmed in lace. You kept the sparkly fishnets on too, and your makeup on, before finiding a pose you liked.

Finally settling on a pose wherein you were laid on your back, your knees up and tilted slightly to the side, one hand on your breast, the other just above your head, and your face tilted towards your phone, positioned slightly higher than you, and just above your head.

You smiled at the photo, and went to save it.

You never looked.

Lucifer had got your number of Charlie to tell you how nice you’d looked. Your response?

A photo.

You were asleep by the time Lucifers own response came in.

Husk

Husk hadn’t taken much notice of you at first, only that you seemed to come and go with Angel, Husk later learned you were Angels shadow so to speak, Valentino payed you prettily just to follow and protect the star.

Husk noticed you more as you came out more without Angel, not being needed as often when you were in the hotel.

You and the barcat had had some quite good conversations, and some even better discussions.

You knew your way around cards that was for sure, and the cat loved talking with you about card tricks.

Sure no one could match him in card tricks, but hearing you talk about them? Something just felt different.

Husk worried about you and Angel a lot, especially when you both came back late, Angel looking trashed, and you looking slightly high on those nights. It took Husk months to realise Valentino was drugging you both, more so Angel. On those nights, Husk would stay up late to make sure you and Angel ate and drank before going to bed.

Husk never brought it up, and Angel didn’t remember, so you never spoke about it. If the cat didn’t want to bring it up why should you?

Husk did notice his favourite snack appearing on the bar in the mornings however.

Your crush on the cat had started before you even began talking to him, but those conversations, the way he treated you, how he never made you seem unimportant, the way he looked after you and Angel after Val had been upset?

You were gone.

And the cat was your new home.

Not that you’d ever tell him of course, you would never risk ruining such a wonderful friendship like that.

Of course, there were also nights like these. When Val needed Angel for publicity, those were the best. You both got to dress up and basically just party, no forced drugs or alcohol, just fun.

You’d dressed in an orange one-shoulder skin-tight slip dress, with a split up-to your thigh, paired with glittery purple heels, a clutch and jewellery, with black card themed earrings.

Husk had seen you just before you got into Vox’s limo and dropped his bottle of cheap alcohol, sending Niffty into a cleaning/laughing fit.

You and Angel didn’t get back until 1 in the morning, both of you slightly buzzed, but pretty much sober, not having been forced to fed any drugs and having eaten at the gala.

Husk had tried to stay up.

You feel deeper when you realised the barcat was asleep at his post because he was waiting for you. Sending Angel to bed, you walked over to the barcat and gently shook him awake, telling him he could go to bed.

From here Husk noticed the earrings, and flushed, jolting backwards and falling.

You giggled a little before apologising for startling him, which he waved off.

He headed to bed and you got back to your room. Taking your dress off you caught sight of your self in the mirror.

Pretty orange panties with a tiny club embroidered in at the side, deep orange plunge bra with a spade on the left cup, purple bracelet, necklace, and shoes, pretty orange make-up, and a heart and diamond earring set.

You needed a photo.

Fussing around a bit you finally settled on a pose with you laying slightly over the end of the bed, head and chest tilted down, knees pulled up to the side, camera angled too capture everything, arms by your head, and full body on display.

You changed into some sleep clothes after the photos, and in your sleepy state sent them to Husk, instead of simply saving them.

You didn’t wake up until well after Husk responded.

Lute.

Lute had noticed you as soon as you’d joined Adam’s ranks.

Of course she had.

You were the prettiest exterminator Lute had had the pleasure of seeing.

She pestered Adam until he agreed Lute could have her own assistant.

That of course, was you.

Lute loved having you work with her.

Yes all your conversations were about work, and you treat her like your boss, not a colleague, but it wa a better than when you weren’t talking at all.

You were still reeling from the change in position so fast, and now having to deal with the angel you were crushing on at all hours of the day?

Your poor heart couldn’t deal.

You were a blushing mess under your mask every time Lute spoke to you, praising yourself every time you got through an answer without stumbling or stuttering on the words.

Your friends were relentless with the teasing, going as far as to create hand signals to tease you even on the training fields.

Regardless you excelled.

You had to be the best.

And so you were.

Lute often asks what fuels you, and you always stumbled through a bullshit answer, never remembering what you’d said before.

You never gave her the same answer.

You couldn’t exactly tell your now boss the reason you did so well was so she would notice you, could you?

Shadowing Lute meant shadowing Adam. He usually left you alone for the most part though.

It meant going to fancy angel party’s. With out your mask.

You forced your friends to help you get ready.

Gorgeous black knee length dress, clinched at the waist, with silvery heels, a silver necklace, a silver clutch, and purple earrings, your hair done all nice and make up to compliment the outfit.

Your friends told you you looked stunning, and when Lute saw you, she had to agree.

You spent the entire party following Lute around, you didn’t know any of the people here and you were anxious.

Lute kept your champagne topped up, eventually switching you to something a little harder when it became clear you wouldn’t settle on the sparkling liquid alone, not used to the alcohol you got drunk fast.

Adam allowed Lute to leave early, so she could take you home.

Lute got you in safely and even placed an aspirin and water on your bedside table, before leaving you, messaging your phone to let you know what’s happened.

Meanwhile, you’d striped down to a gray lacy bralette, with matching high waisted panties, pretty silver heels, make-up still on and earrings still in.

You wanted a photo.

You set your phone up, and posed, on you knees on your bed, heels just visible, leaned back slightly, one hand behind your bed in a stretch and one on the bed, eyes looking just beyond the camaraderie.

Happy with the results, you went to save the picture, instead, sending it to Lute, who opened it as soon as she got home.

Bye the time Lute replied, you were curled up ontop of your covers, heels still on, sleeping deeply.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

If you want more people added feel free to ask and I’ll do a part two!

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

~Vyrus

[s0me-rand0m-d0rk]

Ok. So, you know that TV show Ghost Adventures? Let's make it Danny phantom.

Danny, Sam, and Tucker are college age. Danny's studying astrophysics and astronomy. Tucker's studying engineering. And Sam's double majoring in occult studies and parapsychology. They're not in Amity Park, I don't know where they'd be but it would probably be a really haunted city/town. They need some extra money so they start a paranormal investigation group kinda like what Ghost Adventures is, but local. They post their findings on YouTube. They basically blow up overnight and get monetized after they get a few videos out there.

Danny is the "medium". (He's not a medium. He just has ghost powers.)

Tucker's the tech specialist.

Sam's the occult specialist.

But instead of provoking the ghosts and being rowdy and screaming all the time (don't get me wrong, the show is funny and I do enjoy watching it, but we all know they're not always respectful of the spirits.), they're actually trying to solve the problem the ghost is posing. They try to compromise with them and help them pass on.

Sam sends Danny into creepy basements by himself just like Zak does with Aaron. She also pulls the most obscure and random occult facts out of her ass. One time, she told the audience that it was possible to exorcise ghosts using music. She proceeded to play Riptide on a ukulele for the spirit of a pre-teen girl and it worked. After the episode is over, people go to look it up, and low and behold, there it is.

Tucker makes progressively more insane and less believable gadgets to contact and interact with ghosts. Their audience tunes in every week wonder what he'll have next. The last episode, it was some sort of ghostly etch-a-sketch. AND THE GHOSTS ACTUALLY USED IT. Did one of them draw a dick on it like a smart ass? Probably.

Sometimes Danny has full on conversations with no one on camera. He waves when there's no one else in the room. He scolded a poltergeist that tried to push him down the stairs. He consistently says that most ghosts just need a hug. Dark spirit? Hug it. Violent poltergeist? They need a hug. Ghostly child? HUG. The audience notices his eyes glowing in the dark. Is it special effects? No one knows.

No one can tell if they're serious or not. They had a literal gun that shoots ghosts. They play music for ghosts. They have ghostly etch-a-sketches. Unless you're from Amity Park, there's no way you're believing that.

But, people who have their properties investigated often say that the activity stops or de-intensifies or changes all together. People may have to change things, like hanging up a photo of the deceased, holding a memorial service, or stopping/changing renovations. But they make the ghost happy or even pass on. That way they stop throwing the good china out of the cabinets.

[reasonsforhope]

"In a first-ever human clinical trial, an mRNA cancer vaccine developed at the University of Florida successfully reprogrammed patients’ immune systems to fiercely attack glioblastoma, the most aggressive and lethal brain tumor.

The results in four adult patients mirrored those in 10 pet dog patients suffering from brain tumors whose owners approved of their participation.

The discovery represents a potential new way to recruit the immune system to fight treatment-resistant cancers using an iteration of mRNA technology and lipid nanoparticles, similar to COVID-19 vaccines, but with two key differences: use of a patient’s own tumor cells to create a personalized vaccine, and a newly engineered complex delivery mechanism within the vaccine.

“Instead of us injecting single particles, we’re injecting clusters of particles that are wrapping around each other like onions,” said senior author Elias Sayour, M.D., Ph.D., a UF Health pediatric oncologist who pioneered the new vaccine, which like other immunotherapies attempts to “educate” the immune system that a tumor is foreign.

“These clusters alert the immune system in a much more profound way than single particles would.”

Among the most impressive findings was how quickly the new method spurred a vigorous immune-system response to reject the tumor, said Sayour, principal investigator at the University’s RNA Engineering Laboratory and McKnight Brain Institute investigator who led the multi-institution research team.

“In less than 48 hours, we could see these tumors shifting from what we refer to as ‘cold’—very few immune cells, very silenced immune response—to ‘hot,’ very active immune response,” he said.

“That was very surprising given how quick this happened, and what that told us is we were able to activate the early part of the immune system very rapidly against these cancers, and that’s critical to unlock the later effects of the immune response,” he explained in a video (below).

Glioblastoma is among the most devastating diagnoses, with median survival around 15 months. Current standard of care involves surgery, radiation and some combination of chemotherapy.

The new report, published May 1 in the journal Cell, is the culmination of seven years of promising studies, starting in preclinical mouse models.

In the cohort of four patients, genetic material called RNA was extracted from each patient’s own surgically removed tumor, and then messenger RNA (mRNA)—the blueprint of what is inside every cell, including tumor cells—was amplified and wrapped in the newly designed high-tech packaging of biocompatible lipid nanoparticles, to make tumor cells “look” like a dangerous virus when reinjected into the bloodstream to prompt an immune-system response.

The vaccine was personalized to each patient with a goal of getting the most out of their unique immune system...

While too early in the trial to assess the clinical effects of the vaccine, the patients either lived disease-free longer than expected or survived longer than expected. The 10 pet dogs lived a median of 4.5 months, compared with a median survival of 30-60 days typical for dogs with the condition.

The next step, with support from the Food and Drug Administration and the CureSearch for Children’s Cancer foundation, will be an expanded Phase I clinical trial to include up to 24 adult and pediatric patients to validate the findings. Once an optimal and safe dose is confirmed, an estimated 25 children would participate in Phase 2."

-via Good News Network, May 11, 2024

-video via University of Florida Health, May 1, 2024

[sizzlingsandwichperfection-blog]

Hi. I've started writing a semi-weekly TB Newsletter, if you're interested in that kind of thing. Here's the second letter--about public-private partnerships, leprosy, and my forthcoming big announcement about expanding access to tuberculosis care. You'll hear more about that on Thursday. Anyway, here's the newsletter. You can sign up here.

---

In advance of the Big Announcement this Thursday, I made a vlogbrothers video today on how we end TB–with the comprehensive care plan often known as S-T-P, which is short for “Search, Treat, and Prevent.” But one thing I didn’t discuss in that video is the downstream benefits of comprehensive TB care.

Once you’ve hired community health workers to screen for TB, it becomes much easier to screen for other illnesses like diabetes, high blood pressure, and non-TB lung issues (especially lung cancer). TB is notoriously a disease of vicious cycles–a disease of malnutrition that makes malnutrition worse, a disease of poverty that makes poverty worse, and so on–but addressing TB can be a story of virtuous cycles: TB survivors become TB advocates, as I’ve seen with my friend Henry in Sierra Leone. More effective TB treatment leads to less stigmatization of the disease, as communities come to see the disease as curable and survivable rather than terrifying and deadly. And better access to TB care leads to a stronger overall healthcare system, because more community health workers are better connected to more primary healthcare clinics, which allows communities to better address all kinds of health problems.

—

Mycobacterium tuberculosis is not the only bacteria of its family that causes a lot of human suffering; there is a closely related species called mycobacterium leprae that causes the disease known as Hansen's Disease, or more commonly leprosy. There are still around 200,000 cases of leprosy diagnosed each year around the world, and while the disease is curable, it also remains–especially if not caught and treated early–a significant driver of suffering and disability in our world. 

There are many connections between TB and leprosy: Not only are the bacteria that cause these illnesses very similar, but patients have often expressed similarities in experience. TB patients who were encouraged or forced to live in sanitariums often compared themselves to lepers. One disheartening parallel between the diseases is that in both cases, those living with these illnesses are often abandoned by their families and must make new social connections within the new community of “leper” or “consumptive.” Also, both Hansen’s Disease and TB continue to exist largely because of systemic failures rather than due to a lack of knowledge or technology.

—

I really recommend Dr. Salmaan Keshavjee’s TED talk about how we ended TB in the U.S., and how we can end it using the same strategy around the world.

—

Last link from me today: I’ve been thinking a lot about the complex intersection between public and private investment (for reasons that will be clear on Thursday!) and I keep coming back to one infographic in an excellent paper (https://journals.plos.org/plosone/article?id=10.1371/journal.pone.0256883) about the public money that was poured into the creation of the GeneXpert Machine, which can quickly and accurately test for TB. The GeneXpert machine has created a lot of profit for Danaher’s shareholders, and it has also created some societal benefit, but it could create a lot more societal benefit if it created less profit for Danaher’s shareholders. This tension seems to me one of the defining features of 21st century life. Anyway, here is the infographic:

That’s the money–over $250,000,000 of it–that came from taxpayers (mostly in the U.S. and Europe) to fund the creation of the GeneXpert Machine. And yet, this tech largely funded by the public is controlled entirely by private enterprise. I’m troubled by that model of value allocation, even if I still believe that private money and private enterprise have important roles to play in fueling innovation. But taking a quarter billion dollars of public money and then claiming total ownership over a technology, and using that ownership to deny the technology to the world’s poorest people, seems like a deeply flawed system of resource distribution to me.

I’ll see you on Thursday. I’m nervous and excited.

DFTBA,

John

[littlexdeaths]

stage tech eddie munson x actress reader

warnings: modern!college au, lots of making out

y’all can blame this brain rot i’m currently having on a conversation i had with @rebelfell about techie eddie that ended up spawning all of this… thanks sarah for indulging me xx. 😘

also big kisses to @taintandviolent and @uglypastels for giving this a look over for me <3

“hey— sweetheart. you’re gonna miss your cue.”

eddie all but mumbles against your lips as you pull him in even closer, your bodies wedged between the heavy stage curtains.

“don’t care,” you reply almost breathlessly, allowing your lips to trail over his neck.

you are no longer interested in listening for the inevitable call of ‘veronica?’ to leave barb’s microphone. the music begins to swell just as you are supposed to rush out on stage to finish off the opening number.

while robin was initially supposed to help you with your quick change, when you rushed off stage you were surprised (and delighted) to find eddie in her place instead. the male gave you a cheeky grin as he had your blazer and skirt combo draped over his arm.

but the way his eyes continued to linger a little too long on your half naked figure once you slipped your costume up over your head— would only spell out trouble for both of you.

which was how you ended up half-dressed, blue blazer dangling off your shoulder and your lips smashed against his own. his hands tug you inevitably closer, rings digging into the meat of your hips while he effectively steals the air from your lungs.

your fingers grip tightly onto the cotton of his black t-shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his chest beneath the worn fabric. your lips eagerly drag across the thick skin of his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto the pale skin there.

this had been building for weeks— it had all started when eddie had offered to help you with your scene work. the male almost too eager to have you in his lap, grinding on him while you belted out the lyrics to dead girl walking.

but he’d had his eye on you from the moment you walked into that first rehearsal, all bright eyed and giddy. the more he saw you blossom under the glow of the stage lights, the more he wanted to call you his. little did he know that you felt the same way, despite your initial reservations.

the cast and crew should never mix— that’s what you were always told.

however your eyes would always seek out his lanky figure in the light booth during rehearsals. and you’d ‘accidentally’ leave your prop package of red vines out for him to steal, just to have an excuse to go up to booth to see him. only for him to hold them hostage above your head, dimples on full display as you fought to get them back.

but when you had to kiss your on stage JD— all you could think about how much better his lips would feel slotted against yours. and eddie can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him after you receive some feedback that the passion between you and jonathan was less than stellar.

but that low burning jealousy would rear it’s ugly head when you steadily began to improve.

wanton hands would paw at each other hungrily, those once dull kisses becoming increasingly more passionate with each rehearsal. and that blissful expression that flitted over your features while you gazed into the warmth of jonathan’s eyes has eddie crumbling the pages of his script beneath his fists.

but if this sudden improvement was because you were picturing eddie during your scenes together, no one was the wiser.

the mutual pining between you was palpable and downright maddening, to everyone involved in the production. so if some of them began to scheme a little behind the scenes to bring you two together, neither of you were aware of this recent development.

but everything finally come to a head with the culmination of what your cast mates so lovingly called, hell week. with the stress of opening night looming over your head, and the ever mounting tension between you two— it didn’t take much for your remaining resolve to crumble.

so when he gave you that look, all bets were off.

when eddie desperately tugs your mouth back to his, any worries that you shouldn’t be getting involved with one of your crew members is thrown out the window with each heated press of his lips. you can taste the lingering cigarette on his tongue and you’re engulfed in the musky, spicy scent that is so distinctly eddie when he reaches up to cup your cheek in his palm.

you are so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice when the music stops abruptly and the burst of confused chatter erupts on the stage. eddie just pulls you in closer, eagerly swallowing the small whine that leaves your lips. the two of you only manage to pull apart when you hear nancy’s annoyed voice ringing out from behind the curtains.

“where the hell is veronica?”

you are a flurry of limbs and fabric as you struggle to pull on the rest of your costume, eddie’s rings accidentally getting caught in your hair during the process. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead in a silent apology before pushing you toward the bright lights of the stage.

you subtly wipe the gloss that was smeared across the corner of your mouth when you rush back out from behind the curtains. unaware that your blazer was buttoned incorrectly in your haste to finish dressing.

“sorry! costume malfunction! can we run it from the bridge?” you ask innocently.

nancy gives you a disapproving look from her stage manager’s seat, flipping the pages of her script back with a raised brow. you’re just thankful the director wasn’t here for this run through— or you’d have your ass chewed out for missing your big entrance.

“alright from the top of the bridge people, places!” she calls.

everyone utters a ‘thank you places’, while you duck back behind the curtain to get into position.

you can feel how flushed you are, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. whether that was from the way his lips were pressed against your own or the melting warmth of the stage lights, was hard to say. but you manage to catch his eye as he makes his way past you and the male can’t help but grin despite himself.

“don’t miss that cue again, sweet thing.” he teases, giving your ass a little pat before continuing on his way back towards the light booth.

[xf-cases-solved]

headcanon/fic idea where during the cancer arc, mulder is over at scully's place on a saturday morning going over a case file (that probably could have waited until monday, but he wanted to check on her, and scully knows that, and mulder knows that scully knows, but they both just keep it to themselves). and at one point, scully checks the time and sighs and says she needs to call and cancel her nail appointment for that afternoon, and when mulder asks her why, she says it's bc her dr prescribed her a new med and it's giving her slight double vision, and "it's a common side effect and it's temporary, but i don't want to drive until i adjust to it, and it's not worth it to pay for a cab just for a manicure"

and mulder is like, "i'm not doing anything today, i'll take you"

and obviously scully dismisses the offer, but he keeps insisting, and the truth of it is, with all the constant med adjustments and (occasionally gross) physical side effects of medication and just being sick in general, she hasn't felt particularly attractive in weeks, and while it's not like she is trying to impress anybody, she takes a lot of pride in her appearance and how she presents herself to the world, and her nails are so brittle and the polish has completely chipped away from her last manicure, and honestly, this one little thing, no matter how inconsequential, really would go a long way to making her feel more like herself

so she eventually relents (which pleasantly surprises mulder bc she is stubborn af)

on the way there she's already apologizing for how boring he'll probably find it -- how frivolous and feminine -- and "it shouldn't take too long, i'll tell her to skip the hand massage," and mulder is like, "if you tell her not to give you a hand massage i will hold you at gunpoint until you let her do it" bc he is NOT about to let her skip out on some self-care bc she's worried he'll be judging her for indulging in something "girly"

(he knows she constantly walks a fine line between expressing her femininity and keeping it to herself bc she's worried it will make her male peers view her less seriously)

her nail tech immediately asks if mulder is her husband, even tho she knows damn well he's not bc she asks him if she's found a man yet at every gd appointment, and when she says no, the nail tech is like, "why not? he's handsome and he took you to your appointment, he seems like good husband material"

(they side step out of the conversation, but she is painfully aware of mulder's smirk)

her nail tech asks mulder if he wants a manicure too, and scully thinks she's probably joking, but mulder is like "hell yeah," and scully feels like how she does when he talks about aliens with random cops and witnesses with a straight face -- like, a little embarrassed, but also in awe of his complete lack of giving a fuck

so they are seated side-by-side and get manicures at the same time

mulder doesn't get any polish, but he lets his nail tech shape his nails and apply cuticle oil and, yes, give him a hand massage

he and scully have a brief debate about her nail polish, bc she always gets a super light pink or just a glossy finish (bc anything bolder would feel like overindulging in her femininity and she doesn't want to give any of her misogynistic peers more ammo), but mulder is mercilessly persistent, saying shit like, "that peach color would look good on you" (it wouldn't, she thinks, she's too pale for it) or "that burgundy one would match the new dark lipstick you got a while ago," and she's sat there wondering when the fuck he noticed something as trivial as the shade of her lipstick, and does that mean he's paid attention to other aspects of her appearance? and if so, what does he think of them?

(eventually she lets him talk her into an insanely light shade of baby blue, mostly bc he said it would complement her eyes and she was too caught off guard to tell him to stuff it, and the nail tech makes another casual quip about how good of a husband he would be, and a teeny tiny voice in the back of her head that she can barely hear is saying, "yeah, actually, he would")

when they're finished, he slips the nail tech his credit card while she is searching for her wallet in her overcoat pocket, and he does not look remotely remorseful when she reprimands him, that bastard

in the car, she can't help laughing at the way he keeps checking out his nails, tilting them so the sunlight hits them through the window and he can see how uniform and shiny they are (his nail tech talked him into a clear top coat)

he offers to drive to the chinese restaurant a few blocks from the lincoln memorial, bc she mentioned to him two weeks ago that whenever she is too nauseous to want food, she can for some reason always stomach that restaurant's egg drop soup, and even tho she's not nauseous rn and has also eaten enough egg drop soup lately that it actually sounds a little abhorrent, she says yes anyway, bc she's so touched that he remembered that small detail

they end up getting an order to go (she orders a full entree of vegetable shrimp along with her soup, and the look of relief and delight on mulder's face when he realizes she has an appetite for once makes her blush)

they go back to her place and watch The Thing, and then a rerun of jeopardy (they're pretty evenly matched in terms of useless trivia knowledge, but the final jeopardy question is "this man is the only doctor in history to have a 300% mortality rate," and scully was saying "dr. liston !" before mulder had a chance to process how that was even possible)

she gets drowsy early (another side effect these days), and mulder is discreet in not pointing it out, and instead makes an excuse about needing to feed his fish so he should probably get going, and once again, they both know what he's doing, but they both keep it to themselves

she walks him to the door, and before he leaves, he takes her hand. she lets him raise it up beside her face, even tho she's not sure what he's doing, until he says, "yep, i was right, these make your eyes even prettier," and like ??? what is she supposed to do with THAT??

in the end she does nothing except let him kiss the tips of her fingers, right on the light blue polish, and then lets him kiss her on the forehead. (she tries not to think about where else she'd like him to kiss her, and fails miserably)

they part with shy goodbyes, and it's only in retrospect that she realizes she hadn't actually thanked him, not really

when she is dressed and ready for bed, she slides under the sheets and calls his cell

"mulder, it's me," and somehow he sounds delighted to hear from her, as if they hadn't just spent the entire day together

"i just wanted to thank you for today. i really needed it"

she isn't able to express her gratitude in full, bc that would require being emotionally vulnerable and she's not v good at that, but she suspects mulder hears what she isn't saying anyway

"anytime, scully," he says, and she knows he means it sincerely. "my hands are so soft, i might have to make this manicure thing a regular occurrence"

she laughs

"goodnight, mulder"

"goodnight, scully"

in the morning, the first thing she notices is the blue of her fingernail polish, and the warm feeling it gives her stays with her through breakfast and all the way through the afternoon

[beanwaterontherocks]

Stress relief

(Hoshina Soshiro)

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x gn!Reader (they/them pronouns) Pt2 Pt3 Summary: You and your platoon were sent to Japan's third division base. You get along well with the vice captain, though sparring with him brings way more stress than it relieves. Warnings: Suggestive language and situations, Kissing, 18+ only My first language isn't english, so mistakes may occur. Word count: 1959

You’d heard stories of Japan’s Defense Force back at home and seeing it in person sure didn’t disappoint. Sixteen whole divisions spread over the country. The Tachikawa base, belonging to the Third Division, was a sight to see. A massive structure full of high-tech weapons and skilled officers. You’d been ordered to help out at the base as a show of goodwill. You and your platoon felt a bit out of place at first, coming from a country with less kaiju attacks and a smaller force. But you and your team were willing to help out in any way you could during missions.

You leaned against the balcony, listening to the happy chatter inside the building. It was good that both teams seemed to be getting along, no doubt helped by the casual ‘welcome party’ you’d been greeted with. You fiddled with your half-empty can of beer, as you let out a breath, maybe you shouldn’t be so nervous about this. 

“There you are Commander, I was wonderin’ where you went off to”, a voice spoke and you turned to face Vice-Captain Hoshina. He smiled at you, an expression he seemed to wear a lot, you smiled back politely. “Are we boring ya?” He asked in a teasing tone. You’d pegged him as a more laid-back guy and you’d been right. 

But looking closer, there was something enigmatic about him. His cheerful grin, charming as it was, didn’t always seem sincere. There was more to him than a joking personality. Your interest was definitely piqued. 

“I just needed some fresh air, though I’m glad they’re all having fun”, you responded, watching as he moved to stand a few feet from you, leaning against the balcony too. “Thanks for the warm welcome, I’m glad you guys are more tight-knit like we are”, you spoke and took a sip of your now lukewarm beer. He looked at you for a moment, before glancing at the party through the window behind him. 

“I guess you could say that, though you shouldn’t get too attached, y’know”, he commented and you hummed in agreement. That much was true, it was an unpredictable and dangerous job and anything could happen at any time. There was something you had to point out though, to get back at his teasing earlier. 

“I think that’s a little hypocritical, Vice-Captain Hoshina”, you said, looking at him with a smile. He seemed a little taken back, crossing his arms. “You care a lot about your division, I can tell, otherwise you wouldn’t let them throw parties or even care to make fun of them”, you continued and finished off your drink. “Plus, it’s better to take the risks among friends than among strangers”, you said as you looked up towards the darkening sky. He tilted his head before opening his mouth and…bursting out laughing. You saw him double over and clutch his stomach as he chuckled. 

“Ya sound like some kind of fantasy character, what’s with that?” He said as he continued to wheeze. Although his laugh was cute to listen to (something you felt embarrassed admitting) you still put a hand over your chest, in mock scandal. You were about to speak up when he looked at you, his smile softer than usual. You felt your cheeks heat up, probably just because of the alcohol. “I hope we can get along!”, he said as he straightened his posture, holding a gloved hand out to you. You took his hand, shaking it firmly as you smiled. 

“Me too”, you responded and let go of his hand. 

“So, I heard you use swords when fighting kaiju”, you spoke up, recalling the documents you’d read before coming here. “You don’t see that often, even though it’s pretty effective”, you said and Hoshina raised an eyebrow. 

“You think so?” He asked, a hand resting on his chin. You nodded and explained how optimal it could be for smaller kaiju. There was a much less messy outcome than with guns and it gave more precision to exploit weak spots. Hoshina was silent for a moment before he simply grinned again.

“I heard you like different weapons too, ya use a staff right?” He said and you were a bit surprised, he’d read up on you too. 

“Well, it’s more of a secondary weapon, but I’d really like to spar with you sometime”, you said and Hoshina hummed a bit before nodding. 

“Sure, how about tomorrow night?” He asked, you chuckled in response but you were incredibly interested in seeing him in action. 

“Eager, aren’t we? I’ll take you up on that offer”, you chuckled, this was your chance to see him in action. The two of you rejoined the party and you spent the evening getting to know the officers, occasionally feeling like someone was stealing glances at you. 

It went without saying that being in the Defense Force came with a lot of stress. Daily training regimes, missions, strategizing  and, for you and Hoshina, keeping the officers in line. You had taken to sparring with Hoshina a few times a week to decompress and let it out. Sure, it was nice to relax and recommend books to each other but sparring was definitely the best way to relieve stress. 

Or it would have been, if it wasn’t for how you were distracted by something else.

That something being Hoshina in that skin-tight compression shirt. The way his impressive muscles rippled with every move and how snugly it clung to his defined waist. Though it was hard to take your eyes off his torso, his face was also becoming a problem. 

His jovial expression melted into something more serious when he first took a swing at you. His eyes seemed to open more, exposing that vibrant mauve hue that you wanted to look at even closer. You managed to move to the side and dodge his attack by a hair’s width. You kicked your leg out to throw him off his balance, but he dodged it. Typical, you couldn’t always land a hit on him barehanded, you thought back to earlier this week. You’d gotten your staff to Hoshina’s neck, pressing the wood against his skin and the look he’d given you…like he was daring you to do something. You still weren’t sure what that look meant, but it had been incredibly hot. Here you were thinking like this while he was trying to earnestly spar with you. You mentally slapped yourself as you backed up a bit.

“Hey, how about we make a wager? Whoever loses has to do a favor for the winner”, you suggested, thinking about the nice lunch that the vice-captain salary could get you. Just to think about anything else than the flex of his arms. Hoshina grinned as your match paused momentarily.

“Sure, that sounds fun”, he said teasingly, sending more blood to your face. Damn him. 

You saw his gaze rake over you, preparing himself for whatever you might do. A part deep inside of you hoped that he was looking at you like you did him. But you instantly doubted it, your training clothes were an old t-shirt and biker shorts. You gestured for him to come towards you as you assumed a fighting stance, 

Maybe you were extra distracted or maybe his movements were a bit slower as he lunged at you again. That move seemed way too predictable for Hoshina and you actually managed to catch his fist. 

“Wow, Vice-Captain, is something throwing you off?” You asked, chuckling a bit before you saw his expression. It was that exact same look from before, the one that challenged you, made your heart race so much it thumped in your ears. You couldn’t look anywhere but his face and that led to your defeat. 

He swept your legs out from under you, causing you to fall onto your back, hitting the training room floor. He got on his knees and pinned your wrists down 

“I got ya now”, he said as he leaned over you, dark violet locks framing his face, which was now right in front of yours. He let go of your wrists after three seconds, but neither of you moved away. You tried to keep your gaze upwards, but it slowly drifted down to his lips. His mouth was open slightly, he was breathing heavily. You studied his pointed canines, wondering how they’d feel against your lips. 

The match had been over for a hot minute, yet Hoshina was still this close. The two of you simply looked at each other, engaged in some kind of stalemate. What kind of move should you make? You didn’t want to mess up the steady friendship the two of you had. But you couldn’t ignore the heat radiating off his body or how his locked gaze made you shiver. 

“So, what about that favor?” Hoshina asked, his hand raising, hovering just over the side of your face, like he wanted to cup your cheek. It couldn’t be, was he really having the same feelings? Maybe this was only your only chance to know for sure, without completely messing things up. You looked him in the eye, taking a breath before speaking:

“I’ll do you the favor of letting you kiss me”. 

You waited, had you been wearing your suit, it would have warned you of a dangerously accelerated heart rate. If he didn’t feel the same way, you still had time to frame it as a joke, a cheeky remark like the ones you two always shared. There was no more time to nervously ponder. Because Hoshina leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

It was a feverous kiss, his hand went to hold your face as he pressed himself even closer. You felt relief wash over you as you kissed him back with matched passion. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. Hoshina chuckled into the kiss before opening his mouth. Those sharpened canines felt just as good as you’d hoped. He nipped at your lips with them, though never hard enough to draw blood. Hoshina’s other hand went down to your thigh, snaking a finger under the hem of your shorts. He pulled the tight fabric and it snapped against your thigh, making you gasp. 

“How am I supposed to focus when you’re wearin’ these”, he said breathlessly when he pulled away from your lips. You laughed and moved your arms from his neck to his waist, running your palms over his clothed, toned back with a satisfied sigh.

“I guess we’re even then”, you spoke, finding the hem of that godforsaken shirt. You were desperate to get it off and feel more of his skin, more of him. 

But you both decided it’d be better to continue somewhere private. You leaned back on his bed, watching as he crawled towards you and caged your body in with his own. Wasting no time, you tugged at his shirt until he got the message and peeled it off. You felt heat between your legs as you pulled off your own shirt. He stared at you, a look like one he gave you when you were sparring. But there was something else in his gaze, a deep hunger, like he’d been holding it back for a while. 

“We’re far enough away from the others, make as much noise as you wanna”, he said, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck. You put your palm on the back of his head and threaded your fingers into his dark violet locks. You pushed him closer and caught his lips, moving your leg between his. Just like your sparring matches, you’d give it all you had. 

[probablyasocialecologist]

There is no obvious path between today’s machine learning models — which mimic human creativity by predicting the next word, sound, or pixel — and an AI that can form a hostile intent or circumvent our every effort to contain it. Regardless, it is fair to ask why Dr. Frankenstein is holding the pitchfork. Why is it that the people building, deploying, and profiting from AI are the ones leading the call to focus public attention on its existential risk? Well, I can see at least two possible reasons. The first is that it requires far less sacrifice on their part to call attention to a hypothetical threat than to address the more immediate harms and costs that AI is already imposing on society. Today’s AI is plagued by error and replete with bias. It makes up facts and reproduces discriminatory heuristics. It empowers both government and consumer surveillance. AI is displacing labor and exacerbating income and wealth inequality. It poses an enormous and escalating threat to the environment, consuming an enormous and growing amount of energy and fueling a race to extract materials from a beleaguered Earth. These societal costs aren’t easily absorbed. Mitigating them requires a significant commitment of personnel and other resources, which doesn’t make shareholders happy — and which is why the market recently rewarded tech companies for laying off many members of their privacy, security, or ethics teams. How much easier would life be for AI companies if the public instead fixated on speculative theories about far-off threats that may or may not actually bear out? What would action to “mitigate the risk of extinction” even look like? I submit that it would consist of vague whitepapers, series of workshops led by speculative philosophers, and donations to computer science labs that are willing to speak the language of longtermism. This would be a pittance, compared with the effort required to reverse what AI is already doing to displace labor, exacerbate inequality, and accelerate environmental degradation. A second reason the AI community might be motivated to cast the technology as posing an existential risk could be, ironically, to reinforce the idea that AI has enormous potential. Convincing the public that AI is so powerful that it could end human existence would be a pretty effective way for AI scientists to make the case that what they are working on is important. Doomsaying is great marketing. The long-term fear may be that AI will threaten humanity, but the near-term fear, for anyone who doesn’t incorporate AI into their business, agency, or classroom, is that they will be left behind. The same goes for national policy: If AI poses existential risks, U.S. policymakers might say, we better not let China beat us to it for lack of investment or overregulation. (It is telling that Sam Altman — the CEO of OpenAI and a signatory of the Center for AI Safety statement — warned the E.U. that his company will pull out of Europe if regulations become too burdensome.)

[ohnoitstbskyen]

hello skyen! what are your thoughts on vanguard and the way people react to it? really appreciate your videos, keep it up

I'm not a tech guy and I don't know all the technical details of kernel level anticheat.

What I do know is that you cannot trust a corporation. Riot has claimed many many times that they definitely don't want to collect user data or behave in any invasive way with kernel access to millions and millions of players' machines, and literally nobody with a brain and the capacity for memory should believe them when they say that.

The demand of capitalism is this: if you can get away with it and it makes you money, then there is literally no reason not do it. Corporations are amoral, they do not have ethics, and as has been borne out again and again and again, so long as they calculate that the fine for doing something is less than the benefit they can extract from it, they will do it every single time.

I am not saying that the engineers at Riot who came up with Vanguard want to abuse the access the system gives them, I am entirely confident that the on-the-ground workers just want a way to more effectively moderate against cheaters and hackers, and this is the most convenient means they've come up with.

But the engineers don't run the company, and the shareholders (much like cancer cells) demand infinite growth forever, and at some point some suit-and-sneakers wearing silicon valley vulture dipshit executive asshole is going to look at all that access their kernel level anti-cheat has and go "hey we could monetize that," and they fucking will. Not because they are uniquely evil or immoral, but because they are the exact normal level of evil and immoral for a business.

Do not trust a corporation. Ever.

[suguruspit]

begging for you

18+ MDNI!! // Choso x reader, vampire!Choso

cw; blood mention (vamp related not graphic!), begging, oral (reader receiving), overstimulation (choso)

summary: after intense battles choso needs to replenish blood, something he finds no particular pleasure in until he finds you. he makes sure you get something out of it, and he loves you. <3

Choso was a patient man- half man? He still wasn’t sure what he technically classed as, as if it mattered. Being born to a half curse had its side-effects, not to mention existing as a cursed womb death painting for over a hundred years before being able to stretch his legs. His brothers manifested in ways that made them outwardly more ‘cursed’, whereas he seemed to have settled into his body quite well. 

Noritoshi Kamo possessed the Blood Manipulation technique, it was inherited and therefore part of the body, meaning Kenjaku had been able to pass it down to him. Blood Manipulation, as it seems, is a lot more complicated than simply telling your blood where to go. Using blood in battle has its setbacks, and if the opponent is smart, they won’t let the fluid return to your body. 

Which means, in short, Choso needs to replenish it in less than conventional ways. 

There’s the traditional blood bags which he used to get Kechizu to steal off the back of the transportation vans, preying on smaller animals which tasted rotten and gamey, or… feeding off of humans. 

Choso likes humans, they can be misguided and psychopathic but that's the minority of them, and he’s half-human himself so he has a sense of some connection to them, which means he doesn’t prefer the final method as it isn’t in his ideals to harm another human when there isn’t necessity to do so. 

Unfortunately, though, it happens to be the best way to replenish his blood and feed his strength after battle. What’s fortunate, though, is he met you. Who doesn’t seem to mind this affliction of his at all.

However, as patient as he is, as intelligent as he is, when it comes to you that just isn't the case/

"Fuck," Choso breathes, taking in the sight below him. You were both on your bed because it was twice the size of the one Jujutsu Tech gave him. Your hair was fanned out across the pillows, legs spread with your knees half up as you caught your breath. "S'good for me."

You whine, hands covering your eyes in embarrassment as Choso just hovers above you, staring, admiring his handy work. Pink, angry marks shiny with spit were dotted across your thighs and stomach, leading up to your chest where they tapered off into nip marks instead.

Choso can never get enough. He's greedy, he knows that he just doesn't deserve any of this but you're here, you're with him. So perfect, angelic, his savior.

"Cho?" You ask quietly, not wanting to spook him out of whatever he's got on his mind, but your thighs are grinding together and you can feel your own slick sticking them together. "You okay baby?"

"Can I touch you?" Choso answers in a whisper, hands ghosting above your breasts as his scar starts to leak pin-pricks of blood on his nose as he gets flustered.

"You already have been," You laugh breathlessly, but you take his hand anyway and guide it to your chest, letting out a quiet moan as he squeezes gently, smoothing his thumb over the soft flesh of it.

He leans down before taking a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and sucking gently, his eyes rolling back at the noises you make for him. He ruts his hips against the sheets and whines around his mouthful, making you bite your lip so hard you taste blood.

"Fuck, don't," Choso whines, his cool forehead leaning against the warmth of your stomach. His hand is moving quickly beneath you, and you feel heat stir in you at the realisation of what that means.

Your blood hangs in the air, a scent of metal and arousal, and Choso begs you to let him have it, let him earn it.

This leads to him desperately eating you out, tongue lapping up every trace of your taste that he can, whining whilst he does it and humping the mattress. Choso loves tasting you, something about it is so addicting, and he can't decide if he loves that more or the refreshing blood that flows through your veins, the blood that spills out fresh and warm onto his tongue when he bites down as you flutter around him.

Just the thought of it has him panting on to you, he sits up to press a thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles as he grunts above you, spilling his own release onto the bed.

You laugh breathlessly in between moans as you feel that familiar coil of heat in your stomach, and your thighs twitch at each circle of his fingers. Always so eager to please you he can never last.

"You're so beautiful," Choso moans out, cheeks pink and scar open and flowing now. He's rutting into the air, before he looks at you and lets his fangs drop so that they're denting his bottom lip. "Can I? I'll be good, I promise, princess. I'll be good for you."

You spread your legs with a groan, reaching out to take his hand as he frames over you, holding your hand and pushing inside, both of you groaning at the stretch.

"Oh god," Choso whimpers, hand gripping yours like his life depends on it. Blood from his nose drips onto your chest and flows like a slowing river down your stomach to join the mess you're both making. "You're so perfect."

"Fuck, Cho," You whimper. He's so big and the burning stretch as he starts a rhythm is just so good. He's so beautiful like this, thin bangs sticking to him with sweat and cheeks flushed a pretty pink making his nose scar stand out with a beautiful crimson. "So good for me, won't last baby, wanted you too much." You confess, hoping he can feel how desperate you really are, your slick already dripping on the bed and mixing with his come from earlier and that trail of blood.

Choso whines, rutting his hips into you, his rhythm failing slightly as you tighten around him. So close. He pants, before biting his lip and doubling his efforts, hips snapping and fucking into you roughly as you cry out against the pillows.

His index finger finds your clit again, sliding as your slick makes it slippery and wet. That band is getting tighter and tighter, but he hasn't bitten you yet, and you know that's what he needs.

"Cho, baby," You pant out, your hand reaches out to brush against his lips, catching his fangs slightly at the with-draw, making him whine and stutter his hips. "M'close, bite me, please, need you to." It's more of an incoherent babble, but you know he must get the message because he closes his eyes, tears leaking out from overstimulation before he finally leans down into your neck.

You can feel the tears drip down and cool your hot skin, and you bite your lip in anticipation. You really wanted to wait, to make the whole thing longer but you were so so close you felt like crying yourself, he was hitting all the right spots with such confidence and still abusing your clit which hurt just right.

"Can I?" Choso begs against your neck, breath ghosting against your jugular and you feel feverish. He's close, leaking impossibly inside you as he asks your permission. "Please, can't wait. Please."

"Yes!" You cry out, feeling yourself slip over that supernova of an edge, your walls flutter around him, pulling him in even tighter as your release coats him, creamy and wet and making you so tight that Choso sobs out against your neck.

His tongue teases your neck, following your vein before he lets out a prayer and a thank you and finally, finally, sinks his teeth into your warm and waiting flesh.

You gasp and whimper as it sets of a second wave of your orgasm, and you feel your vision go white. Choso is groaning and sobbing as he sucks your blood into his waiting mouth, his hips snapping up twice before he's coming hard, his hips humping you almost as it comes and comes. You feel it flowing down your thighs and your eyes slip close as you just let him have his way, knowing how much better he's going to feel in a minute.

It's not like you don't get anything out of this. Secretly, you hope he's off on another mission soon if it means this is the gift you get on his return.

-----------

sorry that i dropped a singular fic and left for months I was getting over my embarrasment

[theskit]

Stickers AU

Important!!!

On the mobile app, direct linking gets rid of the readmore cuts!

If you came here via direct link, or wish to use the direct links to another part of the story, and DO NOT want to spoil the surprise stickers, please click on my blog name to go to the actual post after using the link.

Also, due to the apparent shadow banning of people with long tag lists, I will make a master post that people can subscribe to for updates.

Part 10

Master Post

《Prev

Red Hood and Nightwing coming to the cave on Sunday night with tales of their own encounters with the sticker kid had unfortunately not given them as much to work with as Tim had hoped.

Jason was tagging along more to hear about their encounters and to see the rest of the stickers than providing much in the way of evidence himself, what with having his helmet cams and comms shorted out for the duration of his encounter and not bringing his own sticker with him.

There was some friction when Batman and Robin made it back to the cave, it being a fairly slow evening for Gotham with no sign of the kid, which made sense if he'd gone all the way to Bludhaven to bother Nightwing.

Bruce had wanted to compile all the evidence together, and while Dick had been obliging, after they'd gotten the frankly hilarious sticker off of him, Jason had promptly refused to hand his over. Much like Damian, he'd claimed it as his own and would hear nothing else about it, only providing a picture of it after a lot of coaxing from Dick.

The corrupted audio/video file had also been less than helpful. Besides a flurry of green-tinted gray static snow and laughter so distorted it almost sounded like screaming, there was nothing else recoverable.

The sheer degradation of the files was actually impressive. That was either very good tech, or a very strong meta ability. Either way, they needed to find this kid and figure out what was up with him.

Dick at least had managed to both lay eyes on and semi-converse with the kid, though that was also bringing up questions. Such as: how did he get out of a dead-end alleyway? Which, while similar to the disappearing acts he'd pulled in Gotham, those had at least been on rooftops with clear, if possibly inadvisable, access to escape routes all around. As well as the question on why the kid was wearing a blood stained hoodie.

Yes, they had figured he'd injured himself to some degree last night, but why hadn't he changed out of those clothes? Did he not have access to more? Was the kid in a bad living situation here in Gotham instead of having come in with the rest of the out of towners for the ghost hunting convention and the stickers were something unconnected to him that he'd somehow gotten ahold of?

If that was the case, they might be looking at some sort of meta trafficking escapee, since the boy's accent very much labeled him as not a native Gothamite and most people would not move here with a meta ability with Batman's supposed dislike of metas in Gotham. A stance Bruce had taken more to discourage metas from possibly getting targeted by the revolving door of Gotham's Rouge gallery than any real prejudice.

Despite everything, the convention was still their best lead, so it was decided they would go investigate as civilians tomorrow for the last half-day it would be held and try to find more clues.

The description of a short, young male, with blue eyes and dark hair, an echoey voice, possibly still wearing a bloodstained hoodie, was not a lot go to off of in a crowd of hundreds. Maybe they would get lucky and find where the stickers came from, which might give them more of a lead.

Bruce was reconsidering the effectiveness of coming to the convention as Brucie Wayne instead of the small time criminal Matches Malone, regardless of how that may have effected that alias, as he was accosted by another non-gothamite.

Bruce had forgotten how those outside of Gotham tended to act around celebrities. People native to Gotham usually had a strong mind-your-own-business attitude regardless of where on the social scale they happened to fall.

Smiling for yet another photo, Bruce hoped his slightly-less-widely-recognized children were having more luck moving around the convention to check for leads, having abandoned him to fend for himself after the third photo ambush.

Coming on the last half-day might have also been a miscalculation, even if they hadn't had much of a choice with the timing, as it seemed to make people even bolder, knowing they would leave the city in a few short hours.

Dick was having fun roaming around the convention. Seeing all the booths set up with either crystals, tarot cards and other mystical odds and ends or EMF meters, magnetic field detectors and more scientific equipment for ghost hunting.

It all mostly went over his head, but it was interesting to talk with different people and hear all the differing accounts and history, both historical and personal, behind their choice of what equipment or mystical dodad worked best.

He'd even seen a few people cosplaying as The Ghost Busters, and he swore he'd seen a couple in full hazmat suits for a moment before he lost them in the crowd.

He had forgotten how interesting conventions could be when they weren't constantly crashed by Rogues. Dick would have to try and find time to go to more of them. The eccentricities on display reminded him fondly of all the different personalities you could find in a circus.

Damian scowled as he made his way through the crowds. This was ridiculous. There was no practical use for most of the things displayed in the various booths, as most wardings against Pit demons needed to be cast by those with magical or mystical bloodlines as far as he was aware, and to date there was no known scientific way to capture or quantify Pit demons.

Most of the 'evidence' provided by both sides was also suspect. Generally involving blurry photographs and 'spooky vibes'.

There was also a marked dearth of younger people in the crowds. Mostly consisting of small children accompanying their parents with few teenagers, such as a redhead female approximately his age he'd spied a time or two due to the eye catching color of her hair, to be seen.

Jason had decided to leave the convention a little early. Despite the fun he had watching Bruce get mobbed by out of towners with his Brucie mask on, something about wandering the crowds was riling up the Pit.

Maybe it was the crowds themselves, all those people blatantly not from Gotham, who *did not belong* here. Or maybe all the talk of death and ghosts and what came after, but *something* had his aggression ramping up out of the blue as he made his way around the convention.

Randomly feeling the need to punch something wasn't exactly new, but the sheer number of times he'd started seeing green out of nowhere was worrying, so he'd called it quits.

He'd check in with Dick later to see if any new leads had been found.

Danny breathed a sigh of relief as Jazz came to collect him. Everything was already packed up in the RV and it was time to grab whatever he wanted for the ride back as their parents wanted to get ahead of the leaving crowd.

He'd been feeling something wandering the convention for the last few hours. Not quite enough to set off his ghost sense, but definitely at least ghostly-adjacent.

He'd been doing his best to navigate away from the feeling any time it drew near, not wanting a fight to break out between him and whatever territorial spirit had decided it was a good idea to haunt ghost hunters.

Hitting up a nearby coffee shop for a hilariously named Deathwish coffee and a pastry for the road, Danny saw a guy wander in, take in the line almost out the door, and nearly fall into a seat instead.

Holding his head in his hands, it looked like the guy was almost nodding off where he sat. Poor dude had eyebags darker than Danny had the time Technus, Skulker, Ember and a swarm of Blob ghosts had all decided the night before a major test was a great time to invade Amity with their shenanigans.

Taking pity, Danny ordered a second coffee, handing it to the guy with a little surprise attached before heading out. Hopefully it would brighten his day a little.

"You look like you could use this."

Tim glanced up from his seat at the coffeeshop table as a younger teen placed a large coffee cup and a few napkins down on the table.

The other boy was out the door before Tim could even fully process that some kind soul had taken pity on him and saved him from having to stand an eternity in line before getting his hands on the much needed caffeine.

Blessing whoever it was silently, Tim took a large swallow, closing his eyes a moment as the strong coffee helped kick his brain back into gear. Ahh, Deathwish, my beloved, hallowed be thy beans.

Standing up, he grabbed the couple of napkins to take with him, feeling an odd stiffness to them. Shifting the top napkin out of the way, Tim boggled at the sticker staring back at him for a moment before bolting out the door.

Looking around frantically, he was just in time to see the boy on the other side of the road, getting into a frankly absurdly proportioned vehicle before it sped down the street, barely keeping from sideswiping at least three other cars before careening around a corner and out of sight.

Well, he thought as he glanced from the sticker to where the vehicle had disappeared, at least something that... distinctive, should be easy to track down...

@mygood-bitch99 @stargazer-luna @easily-broken-by-emotion @dolfay @britcision @cyber-geist @is-this-even-relatable @alcorbearson @fisticuffsatapplebees @thegatorsgoose @my-mom-calls-me-rat @some-rotten-nest @crystalqueertea @meira-3919 @wandererofthestars @seraphinedemort @bjurnberg @blep-23 @stargirl1331 @bianca-hooks123 @addie-lover-of-stories @pickleking8 @iconicanemone @sarina-elais @mur-ururu @sailor-goddess @dragonfirefeather @nutcase8691 @ravenpainter @liandrin @jaguarthecat @russetfur1128 @purefrickingspite @oakskull @vythika96 @molasses-being-slow @satisfactionbroughtmeback @serasvictoria02 @tkiesai @breesperez139 @dhampir-princess @redhoneysugarorange @gildedphoenix @iglowinggemma28 @f4nd0m-fun @therandomartmaker @mandyne-1001 @learning-to-fly-on-my-own @solarisaetherlumine @zeldomnyo

[cy-cyborg]

It will never not be frustrating to me that amputees appear in fiction ALL. THE. TIME. and yet they're almost never acknowledged as such. The Cyberpunk genre is especially guilty of this: amputees and prosthetics becoming a normalised part of life are a defining part of the genre/aesthetic and yet no one even consults with any amputees about how we get represented there. Most writers in those genres don't even consider that giving your characters cybernetic arms and legs means they're an amputee.

CW: Ableism, dehumanisation

This makes it REALLY uncomfortable to engage with stories in the genre because another common aspect of cyberpunk is the idea of losing yourself and becoming something distinctly not-human anymore because you have too many cybernetic augmentations/implants. Shadowrun even has mechanics for this, which state if you get too many prosthetics, which is what cybernetics are 9 times out of 10, your character becomes a monster. These mechanics and discussions surrounding "how many robot bits make you not human anymore" are really, really uncomfortable when you remember this isn't something that's unique to a far-off future setting. Those people you're discussing the humanity of already exist. They're called amputees. If you reframe the question as "how many amputations can you have before you stop being a person" I hope you can see why an amputee like myself is not going to feel safe around you or in your fandoms.

And it's a shame, because I REALLY want to like Cyberpunk. I really, honestly do. I love the aesthetics, I love the idea of big corporations being the villains and the anti-capitalism at the heart of the genre, and I love the idea of prosthetics being not only destigmatised, but desirable. When written from a disability-inclusive lense, it honestly has the potential to be an incredibly uplifting and empowering genre. but as the genre stands right now, it's actively hostile to the very folks who are usually the stars of its stories: amputees, all because people just refuse to acknowledge us.

Cyberpunk isn't the only genre guilty of this, it's common all throughout sci-fi as a whole, but Cyberpunk is the only one where it starts becoming a serious issue due to its rampant dehumanisation of a real group of people. In other sci-fi settings, it's just kind of annoying and while it can be a form of erasure, it's not usually harmful, just...frustrating. Fantasy does it on occasion too, think pirates with a hook and a peg leg, but nowhere near as much.

If you, as an author or creator, use any of these words to describe a character or their tech in a sci-fi setting:

cybernetics/cybernetic enhancements

bionics

robot limbs

cyborgs

augmentations

You are probably writing an amputee. Please, at the very least, acknowledge it, and be mindful that those are real people who actually exist, not just a fantasy group you can speculate about.

edit:

I originally posted this article on my old Tumblr account and lot of people commented/reblogged to tell me that originally in cyberpunk, the "less human the more robot bits you have" only applied to people who opted for their limbs to be replaced by cybernetics, because it was seen as "renting out your body to corporations for money" but people who had to get cybernetics out of necessity weren't impacted. The thing is though, I really don't think that makes it better, for a few reasons. For one, where do you draw the line at "opting" to get a cybernetic prosthetic? This isn't a black and white thing, even in real life. Most amputations are done out of necessity, but there are situations where it's not the only option, just the best one. Talking from personal experience, I lost both my legs below the knee as a baby, that was a pretty clear cut case, I had a blood infection and gangrene and they had to act fast. But the infection caused lasting side effects and impacted my physical body's development and growth. By the time I got to my early 20's it was causing a lot of pain in my right leg, in my knee specifically, and when I got a bone infection in the end of that stump, I chose to have the whole thing amputated up to the knee. They only needed to take a few inches off the end of my stump, but I asked them to go higher, because of the ongoing issues in that knee, issues that would have been made worse by the shortening of the leg. I choose to remove the whole thing, knowing the joint was degrading and I probably would have lost it later in life anyway. Even if it was salvageable, it would mean much more surgery, and I've had enough of those. A boy I played wheelchair basketball with was born with a partially formed leg, it was half the size of his other leg and he wasn't able to use it al all, it was just dead weight, so he opted to get it amputated too for convenience and so he could use a prosthetic on that side. I worked with a girl who's hand didn't form properly in the womb, resulting in a normal palm, but tiny "finger nubs" (her words) with no bones inside. They weren't actively harming her usually, but she opted to get them and the top of her palm amputated after an incident at work where we were tying balloons and one of her nubs got stuck in the knot. She decided to get them amputated because it meant accidents like that would be less likely, and she could use a prosthetic more comfortably. All 3 of these are considered "optional" amputations, so would people like us be penalised in your setting? does it make sense that the technology in your setting can tell the difference, or that corporations would care about the how and why? Even stepping away from medical grey areas, if your character opts for a cybernetic arm because the corporations will financially reward her, and she's struggling to put food on the table without that help, is that really optional?

Don't get me wrong, I do think that idea could work but it would take a lot of work to do well, and most works I've seen don't do the work. Even if they did though, it doesn't change the fact that most modern uses of this trope don't mention that bit or actively ignore it. It doesn't matter in most cyberpunk works I've seen if the amputation was optional or out of necessity, they still are more prone to being seen as "less human" and in most of the sci-fi writing communities I've been part of, the authors are genuinely shocked when I ask them to remember "people with cybernetics are real people already, they're not some far-off-distant future fantasy group, they're just called amputees". Like it didn't even cross their minds. These are the people creating the works in this genre. Even if it wasn't the original intention of the genre, it's still an issue in the modern version of it. Edit 2: Elaborated a little more on why I don't think the "only people who choose it" argument works in the edit. Also, please stop telling me that old cyberpunk doesn't have this issue, I literally address that in the post lol.

[pancakeke]

it's kind of funny how much money is wasted on anti-piracy software and litigation when the general public's tech and computer literacy get worse every year. I assume cause people rely more and more on smartphones instead (despite that when it comes to smartphones, users have significantly less control over their experience). everyone is basically required to own a smartphone to do anything these days, so why bother with computers? but you need a computer and some experience to be a highly effective pirate.

also this may be a mostly US american thing but a lot of people act proud of spending money for some reason. they act like being thrifty is tacky. plus many people's first instinct when they have any desire is to open their wallets. even for things that are legally free (like everything available at a library).

this makes me think that anti-piracy efforts actually have zero effect on the profitability of media. but I bet shareholders like the idea of anti-piracy measures. despite not knowing how much money they cost waste vs save. and losing shareholders can break a company overnight.

[spiceofvy]

🐙 here. again. How about Stray Kids as sugar babies? I don't mean that they're like, broke, but like if their partner treats them so much and so often that the sugar baby sugar parent jokes speak for themselves.

Anyway, who likes what kind of gifts; such as For-maximum-eyecandy-effect, being taken to events, cool tech, treated to food, that sort of thing. ...something around those lines, I mean, you're the writer so maybe you got a cooler spin on this.

Am currently unemployed and can't treat nobody rn but I feel the itch to be a sugar parent nowdays.

Hope you knock em dead ✌️

Spoiling SKZ with gifts

cws: fluff, gender neutral reader, two sensual innuendos (hyunjin, jeongin)

Chan: Noooo don't buy him things. He is the one that wants to spoil you instead. That's like his duty in the relationship. But he will wear anything and everything you buy for him. Especially if it's skzoo merch, but only if you also get something matching for yourself or else he will get it for you. Will pout and blush when you give him something but when someone asks him about it he will proudly tell everyone that you got it for him.

Minho: Shamelessly asks for things he likes but only he is 100% percent sure that you don't mind spending money on him and actually enjoy buying him stuff. Would totally love some expensive cat toys, or those treat dispensers that cats have to activate by pressing a button or solving a puzzle. Also enjoys being taken to super fancy restaurants, but he always insists on paying for the dessert. Once send you a picture of a fancy kitchen appliance as a joke and was very shocked when you actually got it for him.

Changbin: Our rich boy makes a challenge out of it. Who can spend more money on the other? Doesn't love to go out to restaurants but likes to get luxury takeout instead. Also enjoys a lot of expensive workout gear. Sends you even more workout pics afterwards. Answers any gift of yours with one of his own. Also shares every piece of food with you that you paid for and asks you to come to the gym with him so you can see him in the new gear.

Hyunjin: Less shameless than Minho, he wont straight up ask for things but instead sometimes just sends you links to stuff he likes. Especially likes being taken out to art shows or galleries. Or full shopping trips. Always models the stuff you got him afterwards for you. Especially when it's jewelry or perfume he wears only the jewelry and the perfume. Will totally tell the other boys that you paid for it, like the proud sugar baby he is.

Jisung: Mostly asks for food. Like snacks and (imported) candy. Ask absolutely shamelessly for it. Especially at food stands, picks like every different taste and makes you try it with him. Gets super happy about the good food. Also likes to be taken out to carnivals and theme parks. Prepare to pay and wear silly headbands and pose for all the photo ops. Also always buys you something in return.

Felix: Really enjoys being treated like that. Blushes dark red when you give him something and thanks you by plastering kisses all over your face. Especially like some fancy gaming equipment or lootboxes or genshin pulls. Totally shows off his new equipment to you and brags about it towards the others. Would never directly ask for anything, except for plushies. He gives them names and then treats them like they are your children.

Seungmin: Was really shy when you started to buy things for him. But he actually enjoys being spoiled. Mostly baseball tickets and manga. Really impressed when you know a new release before him. Gets soft about those gifts and treasures them a lot. Always blushes a little when he gets something from you. Invites you out for dinner shortly after you gifted him something.

Jeongin: Really enjoys being spoiled, full maknae mode. Loves getting clothes and short vacations. But always pays you back afterwards. Models the clothes, and gets you something matching. Massage your shoulders on the beach you took him too. Surely only with the intention to spread sun protection on your shoulders and back. Don't mind his hands wandering lower, and his pretty new clothes landing on the ground.