#job website scraping

[ekingston]

Hi; I don't know if you're still following the word-stream stuff, but the app is back online on the app store as "booktok - books and podcasts". The reviews marking it as having AI scraped data are still on the page itself, even though the name has changed, and duckduckgo still directs to their page if you look up "word-stream audiobooks"-- although if I don't know how long that will last. The website is seemingly gone, but the app still presumably has access to all the stolen works in the database.

Best regards, -someone else whose fics were stolen

yup

word-stream is back

it just calls itself—in an obvious attempt to profit from the TikTok upheaval—BookTok, now. and it’s not just the app, either: the whole website is back online, same as it was just before Cliff Weitzman took it down.

(in case you missed it, here are the original story & the update.)

fortunately (so far) the fanfiction category hasn't been re-added, but if you go to the store page for the app you can see that it’s still using 'fan-created universes' as advertising.

Weitzman didn't register the app under his own name this time, but through something called 'Oak Prime Inc'. hilariously, however, the email address listed in BookTok's privacy policy still refers to word-stream.com, so if Cliff was trying to scrub the connection between Speechify and his BookTok app, he didn't do a very thorough job.

here's the thing (and i'm about to put this up in a separate, more easily digestible post): if you take a look at the terms & conditions of Cliff's other platform, Speechify, it claims a truly comprehensive license to use the works uploaded to that platform in any way Cliff sees fit, including publishing and monetizing it elsewhere. and i keep seeing posts on Reddit and Bluesky from both readers and writers, happily using the Speechify app to read fanfic, advanced reader copies and their own yet-to-be-published work to them.

this is a BAD IDEA. Cliff has already proven that he will take work authored by others without their permission and redistribute it wholesale if he thinks it might make him money.

Cliff is the financial beneficiary of both Speechify and word-stream/booktokapp. it seems pretty obvious to me that he's trying to claim, via Speechify's terms & conditions, that every work uploaded to Speechify is his to do with whatever he pleases, which naturally includes moving them to this other platform so he can charge people for two subscriptions instead of just the one.

thank you so much for keeping an eye on this, anon, and for reaching out!! like i said, another post will go up today about the above, but i'm going to ask you all to help ensure that my posts & my name aren't the only ones giving voice to this message. when i tried to approach people about this issue on social media, often the—completely justified!—response was 'why should I take your word for it?' and Wikipedia only allowed the mention of Weitzman's copyright infringement to remain on his page when 'The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction' was listed as a source.

it can't just be me. DON’T take my word for it. do your own research (i would love to be proven wrong about this!), talk to your friends, engage with posts on social media similar to the ones i mentioned above (those are just some examples, don’t pile on to the OPs!) and make sure people know what they're jeopardizing. help me protect authors from money-grubbing shitheads like this one.

[homunculus-argument]

About five years ago there used to be some dude in my hometown who consistently kept putting up nazi propaganda stickers, so I made it my job to take them down. It was a hobby for a while, I'd take long walks, with a scraper in my backpack, and kept an eye on every trash can, streetlamp, and wall that accumulated stickers, learning to spot these specific stickers. I even went to their website (which is still up, apparently, but I'm not guiding traffic their way) to see if they had any logos that I would have missed.

This one time I was scraping one sticker off a lamp post - one of their big standard ones, with a fist punching a star of david and the text "against zionism!" - this white guy who wasn't finnish actually walked up to me, and asked in awkward english what exactly I'm doing. And I explained I'm removing these fucking stickers that some other guy keeps putting up. I've never seen the guy but I hate seeing his shit, and I've heard it through the grapevine that he's sworn to kill the guy who keeps taking his stickers down.

He asked me if I knew what zionism is, and to be entirely perfectly honest, no I did not. So he started telling me about all the things that are wrong in the state of Israel, and how being against zionism isn't automatically antisemitism, and I can't just assume that anyone criticising Israel or zionism is a nazi. The semantics of propaganda are insidious and it's easy to be led astray.

I let him talk for long enough to understand what he wanted to say and to believe that he really meant what he was saying. Once we had established that, I told him that while he may know more about the situation in Israel than I do, I know more about my own people than he does. And the finnish national socialists who use this logo right here do not give a shit about the people of Palestine. I'm not taking these things down because I'd think Israel should be an ethnostate. I'm taking them down because I think Finland should not be one.

[nortedwayfinder]

So I'm about to rant about developer layoffs.

I do all my little Sonic fanarts and animations in Blender. It's great, it's free. For my day job, though, I animate in Autodesk Maya. If you've ever been interested in learning 3D art/animation, you've probably heard of it. It's the industry standard.

Autodesk just laid off 1,350 of their employees. Over one thousand people lost their jobs, the CEO choosing to take those funds - money that would go to people who need to pay rent and buy food - and invest them into AI.

We already clown on Autodesk for thinking they can get away with a bunch of shit because they're the industry standard. Now the people who were actually making the program workable are gone.

I'm so tired man. It's no secret that game devs have been facing mass firings the past few years, and generative AI is one of the many ways cooperate greed has manifested into that result. And the thing is, you're not even safe from generative AI tools when you HAVE a job. So many of my fellow game devs have been forced by their managers to either use it or to create content for it to scrape. It's a parasite.

Anyway, rant over. Maya cringe, Blender based. It's not only free, but continues to innovate because the team listens to its users. It's a program made and maintained by people.

Here's the article I got this info from, and here's Blender's website, if you want to download it or support the team.

[esperderek]

New RPG.net owner liked tweets from RFK Jr, Tucker Carlson, and more...

Just left RPG.net, that venerable old tabletop rpg forum, a forum that I've been a part of for 20+ years.

Recently (in March), it was bought by RPGMatch, a startup aiming to do matchmaking for TTRPGs. In the past couple of days, despite their many reassurances, I got it into my head to look up the new owner Joaquin Lippincott, and lucky for me he has a Twitter! (Or X, now, I guess.)

Yeah...the first warning bell is that his description calls him a 'Machine learning advocate', and his feed is full of generative AI shit. Oh, sure, he'll throw the fig leaf of 'AI shouldn't take creative jobs.' here and there, but all-in-all he is a full-throated supporter of genAI. Which means that RPGnet's multiple assurances that they will never scrape for AI...suspect at best.

Especially, when you check out his main company, https://www.metaltoad.com/, and find that his company, amongst other services, is all about advising corporations on how to make the best use of generative AI, LLMs, and machine learning. They're not the ones making them, but they sure are are helping corps decide what jobs to cut in favor of genAI. Sorry, they "Solve Business Problems."

This, alone, while leaving a massive bad taste in my mouth, wouldn't be enough, and apart from his clear love of genAI his feed is mostly business stuff and his love of RPGs. Barely talks politics or anything similar.

But then, I decided to check his Likes, the true bane of many a people who have tried to portray themselves as progressive, or at least neutral.

And wow. In lieu of links that can be taken down, I have made screenshots. If you want to check it yourself, just find his Twitter feed, this isn't hidden information. (Yet.)

Here's him liking a conspiracy theory that the War on Ukraine is actually NATO's fault, and it's all a plan by the US to grift and disable Russia!

Here's him liking Robert F. Kennedy Jr. praising Tucker Carlson interviewing Vladimir Putin!

Here's him liking a right wing influencer's tweet advancing a conspiracy theory about Hunter Biden!

Former Republican candidate Vivek Ramaswamy talking about how he wants to tear down the Department of Education and the FDA (plus some COVID vaccine conspiracy theory thrown in)

Sure did like this Tucker Carlson video on Robert Kennedy Jr... (Gee, I wonder who this guy is voting for in October.)

Agreeing about a right-wing grifter's conspiracy theories... (that guy's Twitter account is full of awful, awful transphobia, always fun.)

Him liking a tweet about someone using their own fathers death to advance an anti-vaxx agenda! What the fuck! (This guy was pushing anti-vax before his father's death, I checked, if you're wondering.)

So, yes, to sum it up, RPG.net, that prides itself as an inclusive place, protective it's users who are part of vulnerable groups, and extremely supportive of creators, sold out to a techbro (probably)libertarian whose day job is helping companies make use of generative AI and likes tweets that advance conspiracy theories about the Ukraine war, Hunter Biden, vaccines, and others. Big fan of RFKjr, Carlson, and Putin, on the other hand.

And, like, shame on RPG.net, Christopher Allen for selling to this guy, and the various admins and mods who spent ages reassuring everything will be okay (including downplaying Lippincott's involvement in genAI). Like, was no research into this guy done at all? Or did y'all not care?

So I'm gone, and I'm betting while maybe not today or tomorrow, things are going to change for that website, and not for the best for anyone.

[skrunksthatwunk]

sorry just watched all of lacey's games (thru rabbit hole at time of writing) and i wanna talk about laceys diner can we talk about lacey's diner? we're talking about it now

tl;dr lacey's games is about the presentation and consumption of girls.

cw suicide, csa, incest, cannibalism. if you've seen the series, you know. i only speak of them vaguely here though

in lacey's diner her livelihood depends on how well people like her food, how it looks, how it tastes, how quickly she gets it to them on time. if any of these things falter, they reject her and reinforce her desperation (trauma around failure and acceptance + threat of extreme poverty via the restaurant closing).

eating her food is accepting her, choosing to be with her in some way. lacey gets eaten in the prior episode so her stalker can be with her forever, out of an obsession with her (/her body) that leads him to destroy her to better possess and consume her (like her uncle). she can't be late serving them herself, because that's not good presentation—her inability to get food out on time is a reflection of her flaws, and a cause to reject her. she must be available for others, punctual. she can't put the wrong ingredients in—elements of herself, her life—she must exclude them entirely from the part they eat, the part she gives away. she keeps the part that is filled with the disgusting, ugly, painful things in her life, about her.

and when she gets fed up and feeds those raw, authentic parts of herself to them (out of spite, tired of trying her best to no avail, to give them a taste of their own medicine), she is punished, not allowed to serve anyone again bc it's too gross and dangerous. she is punished for lashing out, for not keeping it all bottled up, and in her helplessness, resigns herself to death.

as seen in rabbit hole, jay was too boyish to be consumed happily by the audience (the mothers in the emails), so she was killed off and effectively haunts lacey. if she is not presentable enough, she too will be destroyed and discarded. if she is too presentable, she will be consumed too completely. she has no control, no say (as we know from lacey's wardrobe), no agency outside of pretending she's in a sparkly dreamy world. and jay—who said she would rather die than wear makeup—is forced by lacey to wear makeup in death. she's fixing her by making her conform to the same gender standards she's strangled by, saying that if she was less boyish she wouldn't have died. again, femininity and conformity (and thus being pleasant to others, presenting oneself to be admired and consumed) is safe to lacey, something she must perform to survive. yet, of course, lacey is hurt immensely for her being a girl, for her being a woman, and for her trauma resulting from those events.

all her talk of being ugly when she's grieving, of almost crying in front of him (her uncle iirc), of needing to be pretty even for the people who abuse and hurt her... and how she wished the world was ugly and grotesque when jay died because that was how it felt, but it was just sunny and oblivious. she was the one standing out for being upset, and the world was pretending and consumable and she couldn't anymore. she had to scrape herself together though because what else is there? when her job and stability and life is at stake, how can she afford to be traumatized? to not pretend, even when she's alone? augh. ough. look i just like lacey. i want her to be ok

i don't know that lacey herself is supposed to have a linear, consistent story. i kind of think she's an avatar for like,, girlhood suffering and trauma, and the traumatized people who come from that (hence her dying in multiple ways and coming back). perhaps as rocio's way of warning or comforting girls who went through similar things to her, or to vent her own issues because the thought of making something that's such a farce, such a forced, gussied up version of what it's like to be a girl, bothers her. the audience comes to the website to consume lacey at her best, at her most presentable, and are instead met with the harsh reality of cockroaches and used condoms. and yet, the audience of lacey games the video series consumes her too, only they are seeking out her trauma, trying to invade her mind and pick it apart. we're all consuming what we want, whatever we find appetizing, of lacey. and for rocio, you get the sense that she is also a tool, a way for rocio to express her inner distress. in that, lacey is put through all this unfortunate shit by rocio to make her more presentable and consumable to her. we are all using lacey, we all see her and eat her and destroy her. and she comes back to us and her cage because the pain's comforting in its familiarity.

in short, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. 👍

[adventuringblind]

So Powerful, So Vulnerable

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mafia AU, more crack than anything with the way I wrote it.

Summary: Lando has a meeting on neutral ground. Oscar has to make the switch. How'd she get caught in a petty crossfire?

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, gun violence, knives, blood,

Notes: This was far more fun to write than I expected. Another request done!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She sighs, watching Lando hit his head on the steering wheel of the car. She wants to laugh at his dramatics. You'd think he wouldn't be so whiny since he's in charge of the areas strong Mafia, but she knows the truth.

"I Just - they had one job!" He moans and throws in a fake cry for good measure.

Oscar keeps throwing her looks from where he's spread out on the backseat. He and Lando also make it a point to keep her in the passenger seat and switch who drives. "It's an easy fix. Ten minutes tops, in and out, then back to our original plans." The Aussie shrugs.

"You'll make the switch?"

"Obviously, and if they shoot first, I'll shoot better."

~~~~~

The club rages around her. Not her preferred method of doing business. Dealing with people isn't her strong suit unless it's with a bullet to the head from the top of a building. Knives are fun to when things get messy.

The crowd is safer than the car if this does go south. Not that she's expecting it to, but better safe than sorry.

Oscar is already gone. He drops the money and gets the hostages while Lando goes to meet them on neutral ground. Simple as that.

Her job is to look pretty and watch the door that Lando had disappeared through. Mocktail in hand to make it look like she's part of the normal crowd.

Technically speaking, they'd only been together for the last year. Her and Oscar much longer than that. Though she has a sneaky suspicion Lando kept assigning both of them to the same jobs for a reason. If any jobs came up that required Lando to go out and needed people with him, they were the first he contacted.

If she had to guess, she'd say he orchestrated this relationship. She wouldn't have it any other way. It's not like any of them know how to do anything normally.

She tries not to grimace as a man saunters up to her. His movements unflattering and he smells like cigarettes. Her nose scrunches up in an effort to fight back her gag.

"You here all alone?" Even his voice is grating to her ears! Can this get even worse?

"My boyfriend is busy killing the guy that flirted with me earlier."

"Yeah right, anyone with that kind of attitude must be hard to flirt with." He scoffs. How mad would her partners be if she stabbed this man? No - she can't - they are trying to finish a deal. She'd blow the whole thing if she did that.

Actually - this guy looks familiar... She takes another drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

"You alright? you look a little flushed."

"Yeah I'm-" Shit, she knows this feeling. More than that, she knows this man.

He's a hitman for the other gang. The one who has Lando's men. The one he's meeting with right now.

Her heart lurches. The fog in her head and heat are too much. Her body is going to give out on her.

She ends up stabbing him. The knife strapped to her thigh finds a home in Mr. Hitman's chest. He cries out in pain but doesn't pull it out. He smiles at her instead.

She tries to bolt, but three other sets of hands pin her. They drag her outside. The ground scraping against her skin in an uncomfortable way.

She sees the hitman fall to the ground; hears the thud as the pull her out the back where he was trying to follow.

Damn, she kind of liked that knife too. She'll have to go back for it later.

They already have Lando outside. Her blurry vision is enough to see him covered in blood, licking his lips. "You trying to take my girl?"

"Shut it, Norris. This is payback for what you did."

They start attempting to remove her clothes. Like she was going to go down without a fight. Her nails dig into the skin of whoever is close by. She pulls as hard as possible, skin from another getting stuck in her nails as she does.

Her body doesn't have the energy for more than that. She misses her knife. This would be easier if she still had it. The stabbing motion isn't difficult, and gravity would help.

"Get your filthy, fucking hands off of her!"

There is another round of fists clashing. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed four of my guys."

"You killed mine first! They made the deal exactly as intended and you still put a bullet through their skulls!"

This was all a setup then. They were planning on them showing up. Though, there is no way they know about Oscar. If they never intended on sending someone to make the switch, then they wouldn't have anyone on the roof.

Hands are everywhere, wrestling with her clothes. They don't get far, their intentions now clear. The shot echoes off the buildings. To close to be from the roof.

The man directly in front of her crumples to the ground. The spray of the blood from the shot sticks to her skin.

"I believe Lando said not to touch her." Oscar stands there holding the smoking gun.

She watches the fight break out around her. It's messy and loud, but her boys come out on top. As per usual with these things. She would've gladly joined in if these stupid drugs would let up.

The boss had scrambled away with his tail between his legs. Serves him right after this stunt. "Did he really not like you that much?" Oscar throws a raised eyebrow at Lando.

"Jealousy, I think." They work in tandem to heave her body upright and support her back to the car. "What happened on the roof?"

"I was waiting for any kind of signal but got nothing. Nobody showed up. So, I came back down and was greeted by six guns pointed at my head."

"They shot first, I presume?"

"But I shot better."

She doesn't need to see the smirk to know it's there.

~~~~~

The hot water of the bath feels exceptional against her skin. They'd scrubbed at blood for far too long. The raw skin finally being soothed is relaxing.

The drugs still haven't worn off. Her motor function is lacking, and her words are slurring together, but it's better than it was.

Lando and Oscar are keeping her upright. Her body resting against theirs. Fingers caress her skin. This is safety.

"Can't believe we've had to cancel our date." Lando plops three rubber ducks inside the bath. Oscar's ducks, mind you.

"Frankly, I think we could consider that a date. We went out, got covered in blood, now we're having a relaxing bath."

"You just don't like going out."

She's going to fall asleep here. Relaxed and at peace with her boys. The possibility of drowning unlikely. "I love you both."

"You're drugged and still got blood on you."

"Sexy."

"I killed someone for you."

"Romantic."

[elekilokal]

guys i’ll be honest.. I’ve made it through a lot on here, but if tumblr decides to sell to midjourney or any other generative AI I have to delete everything… 😔 it seems like they’ve already scraped most of the posts on here dating all the way back to 2014, but even if it’s too late to prevent theft of my art, I just can’t keep using a website that would do something like this— I don’t want to contribute clicks and views to a company that so readily throws its artists and creators (the reason anyone uses the site!) under the bus. If it does happen, I will probably make an archival drive of all my posted pieces and upload a nightshaded version to google drive or pixiv or something. If there are any works you really love, I would recommend saving them on your own.

I’ve had my art reuploaded without permission, stolen and sold on random websites, but this generative AI grift is the worst of them all. It’s soulless greed that does nothing but take advantage of those who already struggle to make a living in a notoriously thin job market. It’s a pointless theft machine. As if the world was ever starved for artists.

[lilaposting]

hilarious. both arguments are awful. i hate this website. we have reason to care about the underlying economic data because in questions of distributive justice we should care a lot more about the actual resources getting distributed than people's hot takes about how many resources there are.

a fun example of the problem: a huge issue with distributing medical supplies well globally is that people in different cultural contexts experience pain differently because our expectations of what kind of pain matters influences how it is we feel that pain. the "rub dirt on it" thing works when toddlers scrape their knees because giving them the indication that they're Really Hurt by freaking out will literally make it hurt more for them. in places with ample medical resources, people (often) estimate their happiness very low and their levels of pain very high, and vice versa in countries with fewer medical resources. if we were to figure out a just distribution of medical resources based on people's vibes, we'd have reason to not give medical resources to poor countries because people there are already better adapted to adverse conditions and are usually more resilient than people in rich countries. obviously distributing resources that way would be insane. we need to care about how actual things are getting distributed, not just how people feel about it, which tbh for better and worse is mostly just shaped by propaganda and cultural assumptions rather than economic data. obviously the economy is "bad" in the sense of distributional justice, like it is and has always been awful in that sense, but it's "good" compared to other ways the economy has been recently. we need to be able to say both of those things in order to make useful cross-time and cross-country comparisons.

and ofc the AI argument at the start is hilarious. a lot of the writing produced by high schoolers and undergrads is not very good, such that chat-gpt can honestly write as well as or better than ~40% of students in my experience (and im teaching at a fancy university). the only way you learn how to write well is by writing poorly a lot. regardless of what we think about "jobs" — indeed, that's not what education should be for, it should be for bettering peoples lives — it is important that people learn to write. it is bad that chatgpt can do well on these assignments inasmuch as it stops people from getting useful writing practice. assignments aren't just to test people's skills, but to provide structure for people to practice the relevant skills. that's the value of assignments, the assessment thing is really secondary, but the assessment thing is part of how you get students to do the assignments at all in the first place lol.

[loveroftoomanyfandoms]

Sweet on You, Chapter 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Rating: M (Rating Subject to Change)

Story Summary: You had joined 'Sugar and Spice' in a desperate attempt to help your mother with her medical bills, so when an opportunity comes along to make a lot of money simply by spending time with a lonely attorney, you jump at the chance -- not expecting to fall for him in the process.

Tired of one-night-stands, Matt Murdock decides to sign up for a sugar daddy/sugar baby website, where he stumbles across your profile. However, despite making it clear that he only wants a platonic arrangement, Matt eventually finds himself falling for you.

Will the two of you be able to come to a permanent arrangement or will more than a contract be broken?

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~1100

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the teaser! A few notes before we dive in:

-- While Reader's age is not actually specified in this, it's stated several times that she's closer to Matt's age than most women on the 'Sugar and Spice' website.

-- Matt & Reader do not actually refer to each other as their sugar baby/sugar daddy (although for all intents and purposes, that's what they are).

-- Divider is by the insanely talented (and just as awesome IRL as she is on Tumblr) @theradioactivespidergwen!

-- This is rated M for now, however rating may possibly go up in later chapters. 😈

-- If you'd like to be added to the taglist or if I've tagged you by mistake, please let me know!

Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast

No, it's fine, Mom, I promise,” you said as you spoke to your mother over the phone. “It's not your fault you got laid off and lost your medical insurance right before you got sick.”

“It's not your responsibility to pay my medical bills, sweetheart,” your mother protested. “I'll come up with the money somehow.”

You shook your head even though you knew your mother couldn't see you. “You’ve sacrificed so much for me, Mom. Let me do this for you.”

Your mother sighed. “Okay, fine. But only because you just got that big raise at work.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Lucky me. Listen, Mom, I have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

You hung up and blew out a breath. You knew your mother wouldn't approve if you told her the real way you had been affording to make payments towards her medical debt for the past several months. 

The truth was that your job as an administrative assistant barely even covered your own bills, so you had been supplementing your income through alternative means.

You had joined Sugar and Spice after one of the junior admin assistants had confided in you that she had managed to put herself through college by dating rich older men for money. “It's actually not a bad gig,” she had told you. “Most of them really just want arm candy to show off to their friends.”

You had gone home that night and checked out the website, and after discovering that you could select your comfort level/how far you were willing to go (by indicating that you were into either ‘sugar’ or ‘spice’) you had signed up.

It had been working out okay -- you had only been making a few hundred dollars extra a month so far because most of the men on Sugar and Spice wanted someone much younger than you were, but you had at least been able to scrape together enough to make the monthly payments on your mother's medical bills.

And speaking of…

You grabbed your laptop and pulled it over to you, then navigated to your Sugar and Spice account, pleased when you saw that you had gotten a new inquiry.

You clicked on it.

Hi, the message read, I ran across your profile and I think you might be what I'm looking for. If you're interested and available please message me back at your earliest convenience. Thank you.

You huffed out a laugh. Usually the messages you received weren't quite so… polite, so to speak.

You clicked on the sender's profile.

Matthew, 35

Occupation: Attorney 

Interested in: Sugar

Huh. Matthew was a lot younger than most of the men who frequented the site. Maybe that'll be a good thing.

You clicked the reply button. Hi, Matthew, you typed. I am available if you'd like to discuss things further.

You got up to fix yourself some tea, and by the time you came back you had another message from Matthew. Great! Is it okay if we meet in person to discuss possible terms of an agreement? Over coffee, maybe?

Okay, you replied once again. When and where would you like to meet?

The Brew Towers on Saturday, say, 9 AM?

That works for me.

Your eyebrows raised as a notification popped up stating that you had received $100 from Matthew.

As a sign of good faith , Matthew explained. See you Saturday.

See you Saturday.

You logged out and closed your laptop, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. This was the first time you'd be meeting a potential client in person and needless to say, you were nervous.

Matt sat back and took another sip of the glass of whiskey he had poured himself before he had signed up on Sugar and Spice. He had been in court earlier that day and had overheard a conversation during recess between opposing counsel about Nesbit’s much-younger girlfriend.

“How'd an old dog like you manage to score a hot piece of ass like that?” Peterson had asked jokingly.

Nesbit had chuckled. “You'd be amazed at what you can find on the internet these days. Let's just say Candy and I have a… business arrangement.”

Peterson had dropped his voice down to a whisper. “She's not an escort, is she? You know the partners don't want wind of any kind of impropriety possibly getting out to the public--”

Nesbit had made a dismissive sound. “No, nothing like that. You ever heard of Sugar and Spice, that website that connects men of a certain wealth and caliber with women who are looking for someone to take care of them? Well, Candy and I met there. She takes care of my needs, and I take care of hers.”

“So, what, you pay her to date you?”

“In a way. I keep her happy by giving her money and buying her things, and she lets me do whatever else I want when I'm not with her.”

Matt's eyebrows had furrowed. Maybe Nesbit had a point -- maybe it was easier to have a business arrangement with someone in order to fill the romantic void in his life rather than having to pick up a different woman every couple of weeks because they got too attached. Better to have someone who knows exactly what they're getting into.

As soon as he had gotten home he had looked up Sugar and Spice, and not finding anything in their terms and conditions that raised red flags, had signed up and began to browse through profiles.

After scrolling through profiles for over an hour and not finding anyone that piqued his interest he had almost gone ahead and given up when his voiceover function read out another profile header to him, this time for a woman who was at least closer to Matt's own age than all of the other women he had checked out. 

He had listened to your profile then clicked the “Send Message” button, typing out a quick message and hitting send.

He had gone to answer the door for a delivery, and by the time he had gotten back to his laptop he’d had a reply.

Before he could second-guess himself Matt had asked you out for coffee, then sent $100 to your Sugar and Spice account to show you he was sincere.

He shut his laptop and stood, then headed to go shower and get ready to go out as Daredevil. He'd gotten a tip about a major drug shipment coming in through the docks that evening and needed to go stop it.

He'd worry about his love life later.

[tallahasseemp3]

the thing about ai scraping ao3 is so fucking lame because you could build scraping tools for actually useful stuff instead of this dumb shit. like i know of a website where someone built a scraping tool to scrape job postings directly from companies' websites so it cuts out the noise of ghost ads on traditional job boards which is a good use of that technology. idk it fucks me off because you have to be at least a little smart to set up those tools and these lame assholes are using it to steal people's work. terminal levels of lame

[hremail24]

i lost my other post but if anyone has a couple extra bucks to spare i'd like to get gas and food this week without dipping too much into my rent payment. (thank you to the $600 donor who saved my ass this month!)

for context: im a neurodivergent trans man living with my partner & our cat. they recently got hired after well over a year of job hunting, but i've been out of work for 6 months with no luck. i've been keeping up on rent payments and grocery bills via fundraising but things are expensive and we're still barely scraping by. i'd really like to keep up with my rent payments as my living situation alternatives are either being split up and moving back in with abusive bigoted family in texas, or being homeless in colorado just so we stay together.

it's also extremely difficult for me to get eyes on my posts despite advertising (now closed) commissions, free art giveaways and my personal website where i have old art, time wasters & free site decor. i also find i get less traction when i ask for assistance beyond purely just rent.

shares are immensely helpful, i know money is tight all around for everyone, but reblogs can help get the post to people who are able/willing to donate.

[actual-changeling]

I have written many meta posts and s3-theories, and read even more, but I got hit by an idea I have not seen before. (If there is another post, please link it!)

After vibrating for an hour and losing my mind in my dms, I have no scraped together enough brain cells to present what is probably my first actual 'main-plot meta'.

Welcome to another edition of Alex's unhinged meta corner, today with a title to honour Crowley's James Bond obsession and the possibility of another heaven heist.

I give you:

From Jesus with Love - You Will Live Twice

Now, let's get right into it.

I think Neil might have told us more about the main s3 plotline in the announcement article than we previously thought. We all got stuck on 'they're not talking'—for good reason—but it is the part before that which has been bugging me ever since then.

The plans are going wrong—and this time that is a problem for earth and humanity. Turning that around, it means that whatever that plan consists of would be the way to go and beneficial for everyone, the opposite of the main plot of s1.

"They need to prevent the Second Coming (SC)" is pretty much the only and most popular idea I have seen, hundreds of fics and metas and whatnot have been written about it, but I think there's a good chance we're wrong. If we're not, well, I will honestly just be happy to be watching season 3.

Whatever the Metatron is planning will have negative consequences for everyone, or as Michael puts it: "And so… it ends. Everything ends. Time and the world is over, and we begin Eternity… forever and ever."

It sounds very much like Apocalypse #1 - Same Old Plan, same expected result, yet if we look at different interpretations of scripture we find that the SC is not entirely about complete destruction and death for all of humanity—it is about creating a new world/migrating to the kingdom of God.

This is taken from the Wikipedia article about the SC

Resurrection and life in a world to come are a direct contradiction to the result Michael is explaining—total annihilation of humanity.

Now, I am neither religious in any way nor have I ever received any sort of biblical education. Luckily, Christians seem to love talking about the bible because there are dozens of bible website to wade through. If I get anything wrong, please point it out, I have never touched a bible in my life.

So, after reading many, many quotes by a bunch of different guys, I tried to create a somewhat coherent picture of what the SC might look like based on the assumption that the end result is positive. I will talk about how they can be interpreted more in-depth later, otherwise this would turn into a string-net very fast.

Additionally, we can also see where these points overlap with the statement Jimbriel gave in the bookshop in episode three.

What is Jesus' job description?

only God knows when and how exactly it will begin/happen, no one else does, including Jesus and the Metatron

a lot of different catastrophes are mentioned or quoted as something Jesus said, like earthquakes and storms -> Jimbriel mentioned a tempest and great storms

there is also the line "All these are the beginning of birth pains." Birth pains dictate that there will be a birth—birth of the world to come perhaps?

dead people will be resurrected/leave their graves so that they too can be judged (I'd say participate in it but that sounds like the Second Coming is a summer camp activity)

there are also mentions of stars and the heavens in general falling from the sky and the sun going dark -> Jimbriel also mentions darkness as one of the signs

great lamentations, as Jimbriel says, are also a part of many different passages, with humans mourning the world as it was

the Lord will descent with the voice of an Archangel and the sound of a trumpet/the trumpet of God; the grammatical structure of that sentence seems to be interpreted differently depending on who you ask, but the voices of angels/an Archangel and some sort of trumpet are common terms

once everyone is in heaven/wherever the 'main even' will take place, a judgement call will be made for every single person in relation to the book of life, which decides whether they will be punished forever or not (one passage talks about a lake of fire and mentions it several times in a row)

And this is where it gets tricky. To figure out what the SC looks like, we first need to understand a) what the Metatron's capabilities are, b) what he has to lose, and c) what exactly would be a threat to him.

If you ask me, all of this comes down to the Metatron wanting to stay and be in power for eternity with full control over angels so he can do as he please, aka keeping the system running as it is.

We know the book of life (bol) is a thing in the Good Omens universe, whether it does what Michael said is an entirely different question. So far, we have also only got confirmation that hell collects and tortures souls—in such large amounts that they are understaffed—while heaven looks completely empty.

The Metatron runs heaven as an institution, he seems to be the highest power any of the angels have access to and the one they defer to. He refers to himself as the voice of God and combines judge, jury and executioner, making him one great celestial dictator.

From what we know of hell, they do things a lot more democratically, having different councils, dukes, and ranks that are responsible for different levels of command.

We also know that that the Metatron wants the world to end, his goals can probably be summarized as the statement Michael makes, which would leave him in charge without any opposing forces.

We also also know that he sees Crowley and Aziraphale as a threat—why exactly remains a mystery for now—and that the success of his plan hinges on having a Supreme Archangel (SA) he can control. Gabriel decided to become princess of hell and Beez' sugar baby, so he was out of the equation, and after the Armageddon disaster, I don't think he wants to risk failing because of an unfamiliarity with earth (plus, y'know, getting our two idiots away from the plan).

It's interesting to me that right at the end, he says to Aziraphale "We call it the Second Coming"—call, not it is or it will be, CALL. We know that nothing Neil writes is a coincidence, definitely not with such an important line.

Just because you CALL something a specific name doesn't mean it IS what you call it, e.g. Aziraphale calls Crowley a foul fiend when we know he very much isn't.

The Metatron is selling his plan as part of the "Great/Ineffable Plan", so any questions can be blocked by saying it's God's will, it's ineffable. Whatever his plan is, he hides it behind the concept of the Second Coming, which angels know just enough about to understand the basics without having in-depth knowledge of what exactly it entails.

It is a good fucking strategy, I'll give him that, and it WORKS because angels—even if they have doubts—do not question. They simply don't; fear of punishment and millennia of conditioning have left them in a horrible place. When they encounter something unknown, their response is "I already knew that" as to not ask questions.

Crowley questions, we know that, and Aziraphale, ohhhhh, Aziraphale ALSO questions, but he does it in a less dangerous and obvious way. The Metatron is vastly underprepared for that.

(Side note: That alone would be its own meta post, but the gist is that he questions heaven's plans and then adjusts his assumptions of what God might want to what he WANTS God to want, e.g. Job, the Arch)

To summarize everything I just said, the Metatron wants to do what Armageddon failed to do—destroy earth and the universe—so he can be supreme dictator of all remaining celestial beings and gorge himself on power.

But instead of calling it his Big Evil Plan, he calls it the Second Coming, making everyone play along without resistance.

We cycle aaaaall the way back to the sentence I quoted—the ACTUAL plans are going wrong since the Metatron's would mean total destruction.

But what is the SC supposed to be if not the Apocalypse 2.0?

When I look at all the different aspects of the SC and assume a positive outcome, then the end result to me would be a new world that is pretty much like the old world, or maybe even literally the old world but with any destruction reversed. Heaven and hell get dissolved since now that everyone has been "judged", they as institutions are no longer needed, they have fulfilled their purpose.

No more judgement means there is no reason to keep track anymore, so why do you need to run celestial corporations whose only job is doing exactly that? You don't—and THAT is what I believe is the biggest perceived threat to the Metatron, losing full control over everyone and everything, losing his position, his title, and whatever else he has.

On top of that, Good Omens has told us again and again that God doesn't seem to give a fuck about good and evil anymore, and that without heaven and hell being all wrapped up in it, humanity would have 100% free will without any consequences.

Maybe the BoL is empty, maybe it isn't real, maybe Jesus stole it to straighten a wobbly table, who knows. There is a chance it is what Michael says, but I would admittedly find that a bit. too obvious and boring since it would boil the plot down to "they save their own asses again" and not "they save humanity at all cost".

Regarding Crowley and Aziraphale's role in this—I have Thoughts TM but those definitely need their own post. In short, they have to get the SC back on track, the real one.

-

If you have made it this far, thank you for working through what I hope are more or less coherent rambles. Any spelling or grammar mistakes are my own.

Questions? Thoughts? Corrections? Expansions and additions?

Feel free to add to this post however you like (and I can't believe I have to mentions this but if you clown on my post or behave like an asshole you will be blocked).

[0viraptoraskblog]

so for the sake of a fic im writing (or trying to, at least) i have Un Question:

what do you think the logistics are like behind fox's staff? like how would he scout people out first of all, and second of all keep them from just going to the police? i'm sure that he tries to keep the team as small as possible but also there's a lot of roles to be filled. surely a lot of cross training, but that gets dicey when you get into the fact that he needs to have Somebody with medical knowledge. also, particularly curious about how he supposedly managed to get mc in with an eye specialist. do you think he was even telling the truth about that? because basic field medic training is one thing but i struggle to imagine him having an opthamologist on hand.

thank you sm in advance for answering!! -🎀🐭

Well, a lot of it comes through the dark web.

Fox’s streaming platform, gore forums, and online sales platforms are all very illegal. He definitely used secret browsers and protections to run his business away from the eyes of ‘normal’ people. Not just anyone can access those sites. I think he interacts with a lot of people on such forums, both to build business and get a better knowledge of his current audience. If he’s known a certain user for a long time, and they have an eagerness to help out (hasn’t everyone thought of working with their favorite streamer once or twice?) he might reach out and offer them a job. Now remember, he’s very good with this secret tech— and he’d scrape the internet, both regular and dark, to give them a thorough background check first.

However, think of this; Fox has a huge audience. Strade had one back then, too. There’s a lot of people in the market for this dark kind of work. I’m sure some of those forums or secret websites link Ren to potential hires. He may have scouted for a specific surgeon who offers their services there— they do professional work illegally, but get paid twice the price of a normal hospital. I assume that’s where Ren got the eye specialist. (He’s also a big name around that side of the internet, so I’m sure any doctor who knows him wouldn’t hesitate to take his business.) I also doubt he was lying— if he didn’t want it fixed properly, he wouldn’t have bothered to have it fixed at all.

I believe he has trauma medics, typical surgeons, and maybe a pharmacist that work for him permanently, but any other specialist is a short term hire. Like you said, his team needs to be closely knit to function without *issues*, so he may only have one of each of those. It can’t be too small either, so he can maintain power and cooperation. There’s a balance.

That’s just my headcanon :)

[ismellpestilence]

No one has ever come up with a justification for generative AI* that isn't flimsier than tissue paper.

I use it because I'm not very good a drawing/animating/whatever.

Practice makes perfect. Any skill worth having is worth working hard for.

I use it to find recipes for dinner.

Literally google it. Easy recipes. [Insert cuisine here] recipes. Buy a cookbook.

But I need it to tell me what I can make with the ingredients I already have.

That already exists. There are apps and websites that do that, if you could be bothered to look for them.

I need it for things I don't know how to make, like resumes.

Once again, google it. There are templates everywhere. Ask a friend for help.

Okay but I'm not very good with writing and grammar, so I need it to proofread for me.

Ask a friend to do it for you. Read it out loud to yourself. Have your computer read it back to you. Set it aside and come back a few hours later.

I need it to summarize course material for me so I can understand it better.

That's already out there. Spark Notes. Cliff Notes. Khan Academy. Get a friend to help you. Get a tutor. Ask your teacher. Use Reddit if you're desperate.

I only use it to write essays for classes that I don't need for my major. Colleges these days have too many bullshit requirements + I'm not even going to college. I'm going into a trade so I don't need to know classic lit or any of that nonsense.

That's just a skill issue. Sorry, except I'm not. I live and die by my skills alone. Yes, I do think I'm better than you, because I am.

Do you think children are taught animal sounds because they might need them for their careers? Of course you don't. It is tremendously important that people have a well-rounded knowledge of the world. You may think you don't need to know about classic lit or chemistry, but you are more than your job. You are a member of society. You are a voter, and may be a parent. History, art, literature, and science are very, very connected to politics right now, and it's important you understand those things. You need to understand how the world works.

You need to be capable of working even when you don't want to, and thinking through tough concepts. Your brain is like a muscle. If you've ever tried to do something after a long time and discovered that you can't remember how, then you know that, like a muscle, your knowledge will atrophy if you don't use it. If you refuse to sit down and think, even when it's inconvenient, you will lose the ability to do so.

Anyone who uses generative AI is making themself lazier and dumber. Don't do that. Have some self respect.

*I say generative AI because I am not again all AI on principle. There are some ways that it could, if done right, be very helpful. My beef if with the scrape-for-data-and-spit-it-back-out AI.

[gacha-incels]

editorial from the english version of the Hankyoreh

archive link

plain text

Before focusing on my master’s thesis, I worked for a brief period for an organization supporting victims of cyber sex crimes. My job was to put each and every case of illegally filmed footage assigned to me through a search engine and if I found that the images had been uploaded to certain sites, I would beg the operator of that site to take those images down. 

The process of searching and subsequently scrubbing illegally filmed footage probably isn’t what most people would expect. There is no advanced AI that categorizes footage based on the faces of victims, lists the sites the footage is uploaded to, and sends automated requests for the deletion of such posts. Instead, employees and volunteers divide each reported video frame by frame, put each fragmented frame through search engines, organize each site the footage is posted to on a spreadsheet, collate the sites for verification, find the site operator’s email or contact channel, and write a message that read, “This video is illegally filmed footage so we ask that you remove it from your site. If it is not removed, the South Korean government may take action against the site pursuant to relevant laws,” translate it from Korean into English and then send it to the operator.

This happened daily. Sometimes, you would have to go through 100 or 200 cases a day. I’ve assigned a nickname to this procedure: “The Illegally Filmed Footage Removal Protocol that Seems Absurdly Advanced, But Basically Follows the Same Grueling Procedures as a Sweatshop.”

The biggest challenge when fighting digital sex crimes is their overwhelming breadth and scale. It was impossible for us, as we sat in front of our computer screens, to estimate which far-out depths of the internet any of the footage had reached. 

Even if we painstakingly found 20 posts using a particular photo and saw that every post was erased, the next day we would see the photo spring up in 40 different posts. Websites distributing illegally filmed footage make various backup sites with different domains to make sure that sites are up and running even if the main site is taken down. 

Many of the sites in question have servers based abroad, so even if you sent a beseeching email citing South Korean laws, they simply could just pretend that they never saw the email.

The terror of that vast scope goes beyond distribution and duplication. While deepfake pornography has been in the news recently, photoshopping a real person’s face onto a pornographic image has been a crime for some time now.

The difference is that producing such images used to be time-consuming and technically challenging, requiring the “manual” manipulation of images. But the new tool of AI has made it easy for anyone to instantaneously create deepfakes in a dizzying variety of formats.

Another frightening aspect is that anyone with access to photographs on social media can choose victims at random. And since the images are “fakes” created by AI, the perpetrator can deliberately duck the guilt of harming a real person.

Deepfake creation has spread so rapidly because it gives perpetrators a perverse sense of power over their victims — the ability to create dozens of humiliating images of someone from photographs scraped off Instagram — while also enabling them to ignore victims’ suffering because the images aren’t technically “real.” In short, deepfakes represent a game-changing acceleration of the production cycle of sexually exploitative media.

Those images spread far too fast for the handful of employees at nonprofits to keep up with. Facing such a vast challenge, permanent employees began to drift away, and their positions were once again filled by people on short-term contracts.

Lee Jun-seok, a lawmaker with the Reform Party, said during a meeting of the National Assembly’s Science, ICT, Broadcasting and Communications Committee that the 220,000 members of a deepfake channel on Telegram was an “overblown threat” and estimated that, given the percentage of Korean users on Telegram, only about 726 of the channel members are actually Koreans.

But what does it matter whether there are 220,000 Koreans on the channel or just 726?

Let’s suppose there aren’t even 726, but just 10 people in the group — they could still produce 220,000 deepfakes if they set their mind to it. Those images would then be copied and circulated beyond their point of origin and around the world, perhaps remaining permanently in some dark corners of the Internet without ever being deleted.

That’s the nature of sex crimes in the digital age.

So assuming that the criminal potential of this technology remains the same regardless of whether the channel has 220,000 members, 726 members or even just 10, I can’t help wondering what Lee thinks would be an acceptable number of deepfake purveyors that would not constitute an “overblown threat.”

[taleeater]

Dangerously Stupid Part 2

Part 1

Donatello felt he was in a daze. He had checked himself top to bottom and found no concussion (thankfully) and nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises. So that ruled out brain injury as the source for why he couldn’t focus on any of his work in the full day since. He kept getting distracted by…. You. 

Donnie has a device that picks up the signal from any cell phone or smart device he comes within 30 feet of while out on patrol, and automatically registers the information of that device into his system. This comes in handy when the need arises to erase any photos or data that may come up on these phones involving him or his brothers, and to monitor the whereabouts of any thugs or civilians they may come in close contact with. Meaning, he had your phone number, right on his screen in front of him. He knew this may seem creepy but it was for security purposes, and Leo said he always needed to monitor any civilians that got close to them for safety. That was his job. And also his job to find your current location registered on your phone in your apartment. …..And your wifi network, and your laptop currently hooked up to said wifi network. It showed you were actively using it. He wrestled with himself for a moment about respecting your privacy, but curiosity got the better of him, and he quickly took a peek at what you were currently looking at on your screen. ……It was a google search on how to give yourself stitches from home. What??? Surely you weren’t- were you scrolling through poorly drawn reference pictures on a wiki-how page?!?! You then switched to another tab and googled ‘can I use a sewing needle and thread to give myself stitches’. Donnie paled. The next search: ‘how to disinfect thread’. 

He put his face in his hands and groaned. Did you not go to the hospital last night?!?! What were you thinking? He looked back up and noticed the screen had been idle for a few minutes and he was getting really worried. He quickly hacked your laptop camera, privacy be damned- to take a look to see if you were okay. The image that was brought up was an empty chair, and in the background was a cozy warm looking apartment. But there was no movement. You hadn’t fainted out of your chair had you?! He was starting to panic when you suddenly came back into screen, moving slowly and almost falling back into your chair wearing the same pants you wore last night. You had on a small tank top with the strap down, and a bloodied white towel slung over your injured shoulder, carrying armfuls of supplies that you set down on your desk by your computer with shaking hands. You looked far more pale than you had last night.

“Alright let's see…. Next it says to soak the thread and needle in the disinfectant for about 10 minutes…. I hope the thread is long enough. Hmmm… I don’t have sterile gloves so hopefully washing my hands well is good enough…” You thought out loud to yourself. Donnie was about to smash his head on his desk from your careless words. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

“What the SHELL do you think you’re DOING?!?!” After a few quickly typed commands he was patched into your laptop’s audio and yelling into his microphone, causing you to jump- startled from where you were about to reach into the bowl of disinfectant to grab the needle after only 5 minutes. You instinctually started to lower the volume on your laptop, cursing about ads on these websites always popping up and surprising you. 

“No no no! I’m not an ad- wait a minute-” Donatello quickly typed in some more buttons and your screen froze to allow his webcam feed to pop up and take over your screen, making you gasp and almost fall out of your chair. “Stop that! You’re doing to hurt yourself- well, more than you already are. You’re going to give yourself an infection!! What were you thinking-”

“IT’S YOU!!!” You shouted in surprise, holding onto your desk so you didn’t fall. If not for the deep cut still oozing from your shoulder and the attempted robbery from last night rerunning on the 6 o’clock news, you would have assumed you had dreamed of your fated meeting with the large turtle men. After waking up in a cold sweat on your couch late that afternoon, you had instead decided to focus on giving yourself first aid. “How did you- what?” You babbled trying to figure out why the purple masked man’s face was currently lecturing you from your computer screen. A worrying wave of lightheadedness made you grip your desk tighter.

“I hacked your computer. Anyways, WHY AREN’T YOU AT THE HOSPITAL?!!!” Donnie shouted in exasperation. He barely registered the sound of his lab door opening as his shouting probably attracted the attention of one of his brothers. 

You stared at him blankly for a moment, waiting for your brain to restart and register his questions after the shock of getting to see him again. “I… I don’t have health insurance.” You said a bit bluntly, settling back into your chair heavily, and bracing your good arm against your desk as a new wave of nausea overtook you from your racing heartbeat. 

“....what was that?” Donnie quickly turned around to acknowledge Leo, who had entered the door and taken up a spot leaning against the back of Donnie’s chair watching the interaction play out. At least of all his family, his most level headed brother had come in. 

You still heard the faint question and continued. “My new job… I just moved to New York two months ago for my new job. They promised me a good starting salary and a full time position, but after only 3 weeks they started cutting back on my hours. They don’t pay benefits to part timers, so I’ve already lost access to my health insurance. ….They really screwed me over, so I’m just working for them until I find a new job. I really, really, can’t afford a hospital visit after this expensive move, so….” You gently motioned to the white towel on your shoulder, a startling spot of red starting to seep through. Leo recognized the location of the wound from last night. The two brothers felt their gut clench remembering how you had gotten it. In defense of Donnie’s life. 

You were starting to slouch more over your desk, your head spinning, and your laptop’s microphone now picking up your labored breathing. Leo could see the red flush drain from your face, and Donnie recognized the symptoms. Most likely, you were about to lose consciousness. 

“Wait wait wait, hold on stay with me.” Donnie quickly ordered you through his mic, his tone becoming more serious. He quickly typed into his keyboard, now understanding the situation a bit more, and the gravity of your condition. “Do you have any roommates, anyone staying with you right now?” With a level tone he asked you some standard questions to keep you conscious as he robotically pulled up your current address. Leo had already left the room to rally their brothers and gather the first aid kit, clearly already on the same page.

“…. no. Just me.” You said quietly, now focusing entirely too much on staying upright. You really felt like you were going to throw up now. But you were too busy wracking your dizzy brain for what his name was…. D…. Donna… Donnie…. “Donatello?” You said out loud, trying to focus.

“Yes, (y/n?)” He quickly answered as he continued to quickly type something on his keyboard, he was glancing between you and another screen at his desk every other second. You smiled. He remembered your name. “We are coming to see you. If you can, try to leave your window unlocked, and go lie down on your couch or your bed. What is your apartment number?” He was quick and clear with his orders, speaking like a true doctor, you thought blearily. But you were too out of it to question how or why he was coming over.

“Mmm… Room 517, 6th floor.” Gosh why did you ever think you could do this on your own. You suddenly felt really stupid. You were trying to take care of yourself so you wouldn’t have to rely on your family for help with medical bills, but now you were just causing problems for the kind hero you met last night. “I’m sorry Donnie… I think I’m gonna pass out.” You said apologetically, head going to rest tiredly on your table next to your computer. You could distinctly hear the sound of the city filtering in through your cracked open window behind you in the living room. Your dizzy spell gripping you much stronger than it had earlier when you had first moved to stand after sleeping all night on the couch. The next thing you hear is the rattle of plastic wheels scooting as presumably Donatello was standing from his desk.

“Don’t be sorry. We’re coming to help you now, okay? Just try to stay awake.” There was a whoop and some excited chattering in the background now and some more keys being hit from his consol. “I’ll see you soon.” Came the quick but warm reply from the purple masked turtle as his webcam feed disappeared from your laptop. 

A silence hung in the room. As if it had never happened. You shifted to look up at the screen detailing a poorly drawn cartoon image of a needle poking at the edge of a wound looking back at you, and groaned audibly. Burying your dizzy head back into your good arm for a moment, you tried to sit up to go move to the couch to wait, careful not to bump into the bowl of antiseptic holding your good sewing needle and black thread. Only moments earlier you were about to try and sew up your shoulder like you were hemming a new pair of pants, only to be caught by one of this city’s apparent mutant super heroes you had met only just last night. And now he was coming here. To help you. 

Feeling another huge wash of dizziness pass over you, almost making your knees buckle as you stumbled over to the couch, you felt a larger twinge of pain in your shoulder again. Taking a seat on the cheap couch cushion, you reached up to move the towel you had soaked in the antiseptic aside to inspect the wound. You must’ve stretched the skin when you were startled earlier, because the wound was leaking deep red again as a small trail started to escape down your arm before you could stop it. Must’ve been deeper than you thought. 

That was your last thought before you passed out, head lightly falling against the couch.

✨✨✨✨✨

“Are we almost there yet?? Ow!” Mikey called out ahead to Donnie before getting the back of his head smacked by Raphael. They were racing across rooftops making a beeline for your apartment building. Donatello, who usually gave sassy directions from the rear, was silent and serious leading the charge with Leo close behind carrying their largest portable first aid kit. 

Leo was keeping a close eye on his younger brother. When he walked by Don’s lab earlier, attracted by the shouting, he was startled to find his younger brother was talking to the person who had saved him the night before. Before he could question why, or get into his lecture about the dangers of contacting a human they only just met, he saw the look on his brother’s face. Donnie’s expression was beyond distressed. His usually level headed brother was shouting and worried because a civilian who was kind enough to step in and take a hit for him while he was down was- from what it looked like- still bleeding, almost 18 hours after the attack. And even worse from what he heard walking in, had no means of access to medical attention. He could understand Donnie’s frustration, but he was still surprised his brother had gotten this worked up.

“Hey…. Donnie,” Leo called out. “Everything alright…?” He said just low enough that it wouldn’t draw the attention of their brothers.

Donnie knew what he was getting at, so he cut right to the point. “I caught them before they could try and suture their own wound. With a sewing needle.” Donnie took a very very deep sigh. “By following a wiki-how tutorial.” Leo almost tripped off the building.

“….what?” He responded smartly. 

There was a loud snort from behind them. “Sounds badass.” Raph deadpanned and Mikey wore an expression of surprise followed by a quietly muttered ‘dude…’

Donnie groaned audibly. Thankfully your apartment building was now in sight. “I need to make sure their wound is properly disinfected before stitching it up. It’s the least I can do…” He thought back to last night. The long stare you two shared, and the concern and lack of fear you held for him in your eyes. He longed to see those eyes again… 

The building next to yours was at just the perfect height to leap across from the roof to your room’s fire escape. Leo was the first to land and give the all clear for his brothers to follow. Leo opened the window and stepped in just barely before Donnie practically toppled him over pushing past him to get inside. Snatching the first aid kit off Leo’s shoulder, Donnie quickly found your still form on the couch. 

“Right… we’ll stand guard. You’ll let us know if you need any help, okay Don?” Leo offered. Mikey pushed in through the window and made a beeline for the fridge, and Raph took a seat on the windowsill peaking in curiously.

“Yeah, Leo.” Donnie knelt quietly next to your form on the couch. All his attention was already on you.

 Leo went to stand around the living room trying to find the walls interesting while occasionally glancing at Donnie’s work, trying to stay out of the way.

Don checked you over, breath taken seeing your face again up close in the warm light of your apartment. Your breathing was deep and steady. Good. A little sweat on your brow, he looked down to see angry inflamed red skin peaking over your bare shoulder. He carefully moved the towel, stained in dried blood, and winced as the fabric pulled unstuck from the sticky bloody wound. 

You flinched, and Donnie felt his breath catch in his throat. But you did not awake, so he swallowed and signed, reaching down to open his medkit and take out a disinfecting wipe. The little damp pad unfolded and he carefully began to clean away the dried and sticky blood from around your cut so he could get a better look at the damage. There was definitely irritation but he hoped that no infection had taken hold yet. Next he disinfected his hands and pulled out his suture kit, and with practiced ease began to stitch up your shoulder. 

About 15 minutes later, and about 10 stitches into fixing you up, your eyelids fluttered open. The poking and pulling around your painfully sensitive cut had finally woken you up. You still felt dizzy and light headed, so made no sudden movements. Glancing down you saw the light reflecting off of a large polished shell. That’s right, Donnie. You still had a hard time grasping your current situation. Maybe you were in a fever dream. But there was the strangely handsome face of a mutant turtle sewing up your shoulder with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth in focus. His large goggles down over his eyes and a portable lamp light over his shoulder illuminating his work. 

You felt the poke of a new stitch and this time flinched with a little muttered “Ouch!” and suddenly you were blinded by the light hitting your face as Donnie startled and turned to face you. 

“Oh! You’re awake! Um… Sorry I’m uh… not quite done yet. I hope this is okay-” He quickly mumbled. His free hand that braced your shoulder gave an encouraging squeeze. 

You blinked a moment as your eyes adjusted to the light. He glanced back at his work and back to you and you nodded twice. 

“I need you to hold still for just a few more minutes, I’m just about finished. Okay? It’s going to sting a little.”

“...yeah. Got it.” You nodded, feeling your head quickly clear up as you felt the pinch and sting of the needle again, bracing yourself to hold still while your brows tensed from the discomfort.

You looked around your room to distract yourself from the pain. Looking across your coffee table you saw one of the other turtle mutants, the one wearing the blue bandana and caught his eyes for a moment before he quickly averted them to pretend he wasn’t staring. But after a moment he looked back at you and offered a quick nod in greeting. You supposed he might be a little shy and was trying to hide it. By your window you also caught the large cracked shell of another one. He glanced over his shoulder and met your eyes, studying you for a moment as you also took in the scar on his lips and the toothpick, before he also nodded at you with a little ‘hey’ in greeting. 

“Yo, is dudette awake? Morning sleeping beauty!” An energetic orange masked turtle man, holding a half full can of your soda, practically jumped into your line of sight, startling you a bit with a gasp. “You remember me? I’m Mik- Ouch! Leo!!” The blue masked turtle called Leo smacked him on the back of his head to quiet him with a shush.

“Mikey, I’m still working. Don’t freak them out.” Donnie quickly added, making sure you weren’t gonna move again before continuing.

“Yeah genius, your ugly mug almost made em’ pull a stitch. Save the dramatic introductions for later.” The red masked turtle sneered at Mikey. You vaguely recalled him being named ‘Raph’.

Leo, Raph, Mikey, and… “Donnie?”

You caught yourself saying out loud, making said turtle jump a little.

“Y-Yes, (y/n)?” He stuttered as he helped carefully pull you into a sitting position. The stitches were finished and it was time to wrap the wound. He reached into his bag and pulled out a package of fresh gauze.

You carefully watched him unwrap the gauze, his hands slightly shaking. “How do you know each other?” You asked him, meeting his eyes, then looking over to the others spread out in your living room.

“Brothers. We’re brothers.” Leo answered helpfully. 

“Brothers… that makes sense…” You considered how they all acted around each other and smiled warmly, looking back to meet Donnie’s eyes.

He was lifting up his goggles back to the top of his head and his eyes widened at your expression. He turned away to put his tortoiseshell glasses back in place, clearing his throat. 

“Yes, they’re… my brothers.” He tentatively smiled back at you, and began to wrap up your shoulder. 

You watched him thoughtfully for a moment, and glanced over at his brothers now quietly arguing about something over by the window. Mikey quickly looked back over at you with a bright smile before turning back to the conversation animatedly and shushing his brothers a little, earning him a smack as Raph and Leo both also shared a look with you briefly. You raised a curious brow at the antics. They were like gossiping school kids… definitely brothers.

“Hey Donnie… Sorry for causing you all trouble like this. …I didn’t want to involve anyone and thought I could handle it myself.” You said looking down. “....Thank you for coming to my rescue.” You looked up to meet his gaze and smiled at him.

“No no, this is…. It’s the least I could do. After all, I should be the one thanking you. You got this injury from coming to my rescue, I…. Thank you.” His hands stilled a moment in the midst of his wrapping and gave you a shy smile. He looked kind. 

Donnie finished the rest of the wrapping slowly, fastening the end in place carefully. 

“Um… You should change the wrapping every other day. Call me if there’s any trouble, like puffy redness around the stitches or if it starts bleeding or starts to show signs of infection-”

“Hey-” Leo suddenly cuts Donnie off, making you both look over to him where he was emerging from the group huddle. 

“How about, we come back- *ahem* Donnie, comes back again to check on you in a few days. Does… that sound good?” He asked carefully. Mikey jumping around excitedly in the background and getting a playful push from a grinning Raph. You turned with a raised eyebrow to Donatello. He was currently gawking at his older brother, glancing back between you and the blue leader. You couldn’t help but giggle a little at the antics.

“...Sure. I’d love that. If… you don’t mind, that is?” You asked the flustered purple masked mutant.

“I- I- Yes. Yes, of course. It would be my pleasure. Um. S- Next Saturday then? If you’re free?” He gathered himself and asked you kindly.

“That would be perfect.” You smiled widely, taking his hand in both of yours. “It would be nice to see you when neither of us are in danger for a change.” 

Donnie’s eyes seemed to soften as he looked at you warmly. “I would like that. Very much.” He held your hands back softly as he rose from his seat beside you. His brothers were already starting to filter out through the window, except for Mikey who was hooting and hollering quietly before getting bodily pulled through the window by his two older brothers. 

“So… next Saturday night? 9pm?”

“I’ll be here.” You responded, following him to the window. He carefully climbed out onto your balcony. He waved a final goodbye to you as he perched on the railing, and with a mighty jump, he leapt out of sight. You lunged for the railing where he just stood, looking out above you hearing whoops and cheers from the brothers as you caught a final sight of them running over the city skyline. And with a deep breath of the cool night air, you sighed in relief that you weren’t dreaming. 

Leo, Raph, Mikey, and

Donatello. You’ll have to remember that. You thought with a grin.

To the people who wanted to be updated when part 2 was released. Sorry for the long wait!! Thanks for the support!

@saspas-corner @misfortunekeep @valen-yamyam16 @genesis378