#prompt inject

[promptorium]

[whump-galaxy]

Something about a whumpee with regenerative powers. No one really takes it seriously when they get injured cause it really will just grow back. Even the whumpee is a bit blasé about their wounds.

But when the team completely ignores them in favor of another teammate’s injuries, not even stopping to give the whumpee pain medicine…

That’s a pain their body can’t fix.

[starwarsanthropology]

FOX/FIVES

That'd certainly be one way of fixing it!!!

Oh I had so much fun with this as a lighting study.... thank you so much for the request!

[sillygoose1777]

Whumpees and Self Injections

I was writing a whump chapter when I got my notification for my medication and it got me thinking. What about whumpees who have to take self injections? Sooooo much potential.

- whumpee who has escaped yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, years ago, being prescribed a medicine that is taken through injections.

- Do they have a caretaker to help them through it? Does the caretaker do the injections for them while saying soothing words?

- What if whumpee lives on their own? If it’s an intramuscular injection, they can only do injections in their thighs safely.

- Do they make themselves learn unsafe methods to take it in their arms? Going out of there way to make it harder to force away bad memories?

- Do they make a doctor’s appointment every time they need an injection, ignoring the little cash they have in their bank account and the smells of the medical building so they can take the responsibility off their shoulders?

- What if it’s a subcutaneous injection? Are they scared to pull up their shirt to take the injection in their stomach to avoid seeing scars?

- Or do they avoid taking the medicine no matter what. No voice in their head, pain in their body, or possible caretaker can get them to face a needle. They get sent to the hospital where they will be restrained so the proper medicine can be administered

So many possibilities ☺️✨

(Prompt 1)

[whatiswhump]

Daily injections, whumpee wished they didn’t flinch. They know they shouldn’t be scared of them, they’ve had much worse.

But each time the skin has to be swabbed with alcohol and that smell fills their nostrils, whumpee freezes up.

[whumperer-86]

Poisoned, fell down , Cpr while foaming at the mouth, couldn't breathe, ambulance ride, injected with deadly injection

Regeneration Chinese Drama ep1

[radawaycunt]

Can you do cyanide with Cooper Howard

Cyanide — an inevitable realization, stubbornness, ill concealed jealousy, a decision finally being made.

————

Cooper didn’t much like how some of the patrons at the Gomorrah were looking at you.

Beyond the fact that you had a good reputation at the Strip, you were trying to blend in at the casino by wearing a dress that was a little too revealing for his liking. It didn’t really leave much to his — or anyone’s — imagination.

Since you’d become companions, he’d had to constantly remind himself that you were business partners and nothing else. He had no right — or reason — to be feeling a seething jealousy bubbling up inside him.

If he had simply become more protective of you, that would be another story entirely, but it went way beyond that… and it was starting to sink in.

He initially took a liking to you for being driven and effective, and that wasn’t to mention how easy on the eyes you were. Working with you didn’t feel like a chore either, especially since you could hold your own, and as he had gotten to know you more… Oh, it’d been a long time since he’d truly liked someone.

But he had tried not to think of the extent of it, or what it might mean for him. And he would continue to try to keep it out of his mind, just as long as no one tried anything funny with you.

You noticed him glaring at a couple of patrons, not understanding why he was being hostile unprovoked. You elbowed him on the side and gave him a questioning look, but he simply shook his head, his jaw clenching.

Trying not to roll your eyes, you looked back at the blackjack dealer’s cards and realized you would not win the round. With a sigh of resignation, you tossed your cards on the table.

“Alright, maybe it’s time we check the back. Not having any luck here,” you said, pushing away from the table.

When Cooper didn’t immediately follow you, you stopped and looked back. He was still scanning your surroundings, as if daring anyone to approach, but he stood up from the high stool and slowly followed along.

“What is up with you?” You hissed between clenched teeth, looping your arm through his to try to seem casual. “We need to keep a low profile and stay in this place’s good graces until we’re done with the job. We can’t afford to get shunned from here.”

“Low profile, huh?” He pulled back and glanced down at your dress pointedly. “Gee, sweetheart, I’d have thought that you wanted the opposite, flauntin’ your tits and all.”

You scoffed. “Well, it’s a distraction. If they focus on them then maybe they won’t focus on what we’re actually trying to do.”

“Damn right it’s a distraction…” he muttered.

As you reached the back of the establishment, you saw the contact you were supposed to talk to sitting at the back of the room. You slowed your steps, trying to finish the discussion first.

“Listen, can you handle it or not? Cause I can finish this by myself if I need to,” you said.

He knew very well that you could, and that you might not even need him at all, but still you had let him keep you company.

He had thought to return to flying solo a few times, if only so he didn’t have to figure out the complicated tangle of emotions he’d started feeling.

But he found that despite it, he didn’t want to give you up so easily. He would just have to figure it all out at some point.

“Oh, I can handle it alright,” he said with a sly grin, holding eye contact with you for a charged moment. “Lead the way, darlin’. But here’s to hopin’ this guy doesn’t have wandering eyes… Else we might be in real trouble real quick.”

———-

[whumpingandsmilinglikeanidiot]

Doctor whumpee, too injured/sick to deal with it themselves and so they have to tell Whumper/Caretaker what to do

There's so much potential to this! Just look

What exactly is preventing them from dealing with the wound/whatever?

their hands are shaking too much(love this one)/they have a bad fever and are delirious/don't have the strength to move an inch/or more

Then we have what the treatment is?

Cleaning, disinfecting, bandaging are the basics, how about an injection(go old timey and you can do morphine for painkillers), or full on surgery if you want intense scenarios(just think about it!! Whumpee has to be up and giving instructions for the entire ordeal I don't know how but make it happen if you want), holding broken bones in place, putting in dislocated limbs, stopping the bleeding with their own clothes, these are like just off the back of my head

If you go with bad fever and delirious you can say the Caretaker(or Whumper) realizes halfway through following instructions that Whumpee's instructions are wrong and will put Whumpee in more harm

Then we get what the reaction is

Perhaps Whumpee can't help but laugh at the bad job they're doing, even in this awful situation, and Caretaker laughs weakly along

or screams for them to do it quick, then maybe apologizes later

or completely disoriented in pain, tapping ground with finger furiously, groaning, repeating instructions quietly

Just come on this is so good

[safarikalamari]

To Love Another

Summary: Babe tries to figure out just who Gene is and comes to a different realization along the way

Rating: T

Genre: Canon Compliant, Missing Scenes, Falling in Love, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Character Study, One Shot

Words: 1244

-

AO3

or

Eugene Roe is an enigma. 

A shadow floating between the trees, an expert tracker who calls Babe anything but his name. 

Babe doesn’t mean to snap but right now he can’t stand to hear anything else. Then, Eugene has the audacity to say Edward. It’s only Eugene’s lost stare that stops Babe from saying what really sits on his mind. That maybe Gene doesn’t respect him. 

Except that’s all Eugene is. Respectful, kind. It takes a life or death mistake for him to berate anyone and even then, Gene shouts nothing but the truth. 

So, for now, Babe lets the matter be. He has other things to worry about after all. Like Julian. Bright eyed and bushy tailed, Babe wonders what he’s doing on this side of the world when he should still be playing baseball with his friends. 

Well, Babe will make sure Julian gets back home. Catch up on all the living he’s supposed to do. It’s what his ma would want after all. 

Babe doesn’t spare a thought toward Gene during the patrol and even less so amongst the barrage of bullets. Julian is reaching out, choking on his own blood, but Babe can’t do anything. He screams an empty promise, forces himself to retreat with the other men. 

A hollow ache claws at his chest and he finds himself looking over at Gene. He wants Gene to say something, even call him Edward. Yet, there’s none of that. Only a pained expression, a silent apology that Babe can’t accept right now. 

Babe doesn’t care. Nothing matters. The night is colder than ever and Babe wishes the ground would swallow him up. He wants to ignore Gene and he has no regrets when he snaps at him. It doesn’t help when Gene doesn’t bite back, where instead he’s patient. Too good for the battlefields of France. The chocolate is a temporary salve, the warmth of Gene and Ralph is all that keeps him on this godforsaken earth. 

Then, it’s Babe who’s screaming at Gene, forcing him out of his lonely foxhole. He’s about to slap Gene across the face, to snap him out of his haze, but Gene pulls through at the last second. The wound he leaves on Babe’s hand hurts like a mother and Babe curses Gene to hell and back. 

Of course, he can’t stay mad. Especially not when after all this time, Gene calls him Babe. A second or two passes before it hits Babe and a smile spreads across his face. Not one made out of reluctance or even to lighten Gene’s mood. No, this smile is genuine and Babe’s heart races in his chest. 

Gene is gentle and caring. A passing comment is carried on his shoulders and Babe wants to help. Yet, Gene disappears in the snow, fades into the background. For some time, Babe thinks it all a dream, their shared foxhole, waking up to Gene’s arm secure around his waist. 

When they reach different towns, Gene is just out of the corner of his eyes, drifting between the lines of life and death. It’s times like these, waiting for the next fight, when Babe just wants to hear Gene speak. One word. Even just to call him Heffron. 

He isn’t all that surprised when he’s chosen for the mission. Babe will do what he’s told, despite the fear that weaves through his veins. He’s contemplating what comes next, a numbness spreading through him while waiting for the hours to pass.

Somehow, Eugene finds him and Babe breaks his chaotic thoughts to stare the other man down. 

“Heffron, you better come back alive, you hear?”

It’s an order, but Babe doesn’t salute. Gene has slipped back into old ways and Babe’s stomach twists. His imagination tells him Gene is more terrified than he is. 

The hailstorm of bullets, the screaming, Babe can barely keep his head above the chaos. He’s about to fight every soldier barehanded until the world comes to a stop. Another kid is dead and there’s nothing he or Eugene or anyone else can do about it. 

What’s worse is Babe can see the guilt in Gene’s eyes. He couldn’t save Jackson but more than that Gene‘s stare screams at Babe. 

Thank god it wasn’t you.

Babe doesn’t have any more crying left in him. Bitterness stews in his chest and it’s on his slow walk to nowhere that he runs into Gene. There is a silent trail of tears down his face, he looks to Babe for forgiveness. 

If Babe could, he’d absolve Gene of all of his sins. Instead, they find themselves in a secluded basement, hands grasping, tugging open bloodstained uniforms. Gene’s kiss is rough, mouth open as if to swallow Babe whole. Babe is willing to let Gene consume him if it means a happier end. 

They’re frantic, this is all just to forget and when Eugene enters him, it burns. Babe almost doesn’t mind the pain because at least he’s feeling something beyond the hollow ache within him. His climax isn’t much at all, just a passing wave of relief. Proof that he’s still alive. 

Eugene is quick to leave him, bare and shivering just as dawn starts to break. Babe doesn’t blame him. The call for a medic will come soon enough and Babe makes a poor attempt of cleaning himself before facing the world. 

For a while, Gene floats between the company. Babe has maybe a moment or two alone with him but it’s not enough to even reach out and touch. His fingers twitch and Babe wonders if all he’s good for is a quick fuck. 

Then, they reach Austria. Life turns upside down and Babe is laughing, real and alive, arms open wide. In a first class hotel, Babe finds Gene, the frown on his face fading into something softer. 

He takes Gene to bed that night, a gentle breeze passing through the window. Moonlight bathes their skin and Babe pushes into Gene, slow and breathless. He could watch him forever, eyes hooded, whispered affection floating above them. 

“Babe,” Gene repeats over and over.

Never has his name held such reverence, an exaltation to someone other than their God. In this moment, Babe can pretend no one else exists for Gene but himself and he swallows the sin of pride like a thirsty man. 

When he wakes, Babe stares at Gene, his sleeping face an unusual calm. He traces a hand down his temple and mouths a promise, his secret to be locked safe in his heart. 

Leaving Europe comes all too soon and with that, Babe comes to terms with what happens next. He’s lucky to have Gene with him on the ship, their last days spent in each other’s company. 

At the port, Babe readies himself for goodbye and he holds out a hand for Gene to shake. Gene has one last surprise in him, his arms warm and secure around Babe’s shoulders. Babe hugs him back, blinks away the tears that threaten to come. 

He doesn’t want to let go, but they somehow both manage. Just before he leaves, Gene presses a folded piece of paper into Babe’s hand and disappears into the crowd. 

Babe’s heart flutters as he opens it and this time, a tear does slip down his cheek. Gene has given him his address, his telephone number, but written under all that is the start of a new beginning. 

Je t’adore. Mon sha. Mon Babe.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

A link-clump demands a linkdump

Cometh the weekend, cometh the linkdump. My daily-ish newsletter includes a section called "Hey look at this," with three short links per day, but sometimes those links get backed up and I need to clean house. Here's the eight previous installments:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

The country code top level domain (ccTLD) for the Caribbean island nation of Anguilla is .ai, and that's turned into millions of dollars worth of royalties as "entrepreneurs" scramble to sprinkle some buzzword-compliant AI stuff on their businesses in the most superficial way possible:

https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/08/ai-fever-turns-anguillas-ai-domain-into-a-digital-gold-mine/

All told, .ai domain royalties will account for about ten percent of the country's GDP.

It's actually kind of nice to see Anguilla finding some internet money at long last. Back in the 1990s, when I was a freelance web developer, I got hired to work on the investor website for a publicly traded internet casino based in Anguilla that was a scammy disaster in every conceivable way. The company had been conceived of by people who inherited a modestly successful chain of print-shops and decided to diversify by buying a dormant penny mining stock and relaunching it as an online casino.

But of course, online casinos were illegal nearly everywhere. Not in Anguilla – or at least, that's what the founders told us – which is why they located their servers there, despite the lack of broadband or, indeed, reliable electricity at their data-center. At a certain point, the whole thing started to whiff of a stock swindle, a pump-and-dump where they'd sell off shares in that ex-mining stock to people who knew even less about the internet than they did and skedaddle. I got out, and lost track of them, and a search for their names and business today turns up nothing so I assume that it flamed out before it could ruin any retail investors' lives.

Anguilla is a British Overseas Territory, one of those former British colonies that was drained and then given "independence" by paternalistic imperial administrators half a world away. The country's main industries are tourism and "finance" – which is to say, it's a pearl in the globe-spanning necklace of tax- and corporate-crime-havens the UK established around the world so its most vicious criminals – the hereditary aristocracy – can continue to use Britain's roads and exploit its educated workforce without paying any taxes.

This is the "finance curse," and there are tiny, struggling nations all around the world that live under it. Nick Shaxson dubbed them "Treasure Islands" in his outstanding book of the same name:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780230341722/treasureislands

I can't imagine that the AI bubble will last forever – anything that can't go on forever eventually stops – and when it does, those .ai domain royalties will dry up. But until then, I salute Anguilla, which has at last found the internet riches that I played a small part in bringing to it in the previous century.

The AI bubble is indeed overdue for a popping, but while the market remains gripped by irrational exuberance, there's lots of weird stuff happening around the edges. Take Inject My PDF, which embeds repeating blocks of invisible text into your resume:

https://kai-greshake.de/posts/inject-my-pdf/

The text is tuned to make resume-sorting Large Language Models identify you as the ideal candidate for the job. It'll even trick the summarizer function into spitting out text that does not appear in any human-readable form on your CV.

Embedding weird stuff into resumes is a hacker tradition. I first encountered it at the Chaos Communications Congress in 2012, when Ang Cui used it as an example in his stellar "Print Me If You Dare" talk:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njVv7J2azY8

Cui figured out that one way to update the software of a printer was to embed an invisible Postscript instruction in a document that basically said, "everything after this is a firmware update." Then he came up with 100 lines of perl that he hid in documents with names like cv.pdf that would flash the printer when they ran, causing it to probe your LAN for vulnerable PCs and take them over, opening a reverse-shell to his command-and-control server in the cloud. Compromised printers would then refuse to apply future updates from their owners, but would pretend to install them and even update their version numbers to give verisimilitude to the ruse. The only way to exorcise these haunted printers was to send 'em to the landfill. Good times!

Printers are still a dumpster fire, and it's not solely about the intrinsic difficulty of computer security. After all, printer manufacturers have devoted enormous resources to hardening their products against their owners, making it progressively harder to use third-party ink. They're super perverse about it, too – they send "security updates" to your printer that update the printer's security against you – run these updates and your printer downgrades itself by refusing to use the ink you chose for it:

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2020/11/ink-stained-wretches-battle-soul-digital-freedom-taking-place-inside-your-printer

It's a reminder that what a monopolist thinks of as "security" isn't what you think of as security. Oftentimes, their security is antithetical to your security. That was the case with Web Environment Integrity, a plan by Google to make your phone rat you out to advertisers' servers, revealing any adblocking modifications you might have installed so that ad-serving companies could refuse to talk to you:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/02/self-incrimination/#wei-bai-bai

WEI is now dead, thanks to a lot of hueing and crying by people like us:

https://www.theregister.com/2023/11/02/google_abandons_web_environment_integrity/

But the dream of securing Google against its own users lives on. Youtube has embarked on an aggressive campaign of refusing to show videos to people running ad-blockers, triggering an arms-race of ad-blocker-blockers and ad-blocker-blocker-blockers:

https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/where-will-the-ad-versus-ad-blocker-arms-race-end/

The folks behind Ublock Origin are racing to keep up with Google's engineers' countermeasures, and there's a single-serving website called "Is uBlock Origin updated to the last Anti-Adblocker YouTube script?" that will give you a realtime, one-word status update:

https://drhyperion451.github.io/does-uBO-bypass-yt/

One in four web users has an ad-blocker, a stat that Doc Searls pithily summarizes as "the biggest boycott in world history":

https://doc.searls.com/2015/09/28/beyond-ad-blocking-the-biggest-boycott-in-human-history/

Zero app users have ad-blockers. That's not because ad-blocking an app is harder than ad-blocking the web – it's because reverse-engineering an app triggers liability under IP laws like Section 1201 of the Digital Millenium Copyright Act, which can put you away for 5 years for a first offense. That's what I mean when I say that "IP is anything that lets a company control its customers, critics or competitors:

https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/

I predicted that apps would open up all kinds of opportunities for abusive, monopolistic conduct back in 2010, and I'm experiencing a mix of sadness and smugness (I assume there's a German word for this emotion) at being so thoroughly vindicated by history:

https://memex.craphound.com/2010/04/01/why-i-wont-buy-an-ipad-and-think-you-shouldnt-either/

The more control a company can exert over its customers, the worse it will be tempted to treat them. These systems of control shift the balance of power within companies, making it harder for internal factions that defend product quality and customer interests to win against the enshittifiers:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/28/microincentives-and-enshittification/

The result has been a Great Enshittening, with platforms of all description shifting value from their customers and users to their shareholders, making everything palpably worse. The only bright side is that this has created the political will to do something about it, sparking a wave of bold, muscular antitrust action all over the world.

The Google antitrust case is certainly the most important corporate lawsuit of the century (so far), but Judge Amit Mehta's deference to Google's demands for secrecy has kept the case out of the headlines. I mean, Sam Bankman-Fried is a psychopathic thief, but even so, his trial does not deserve its vastly greater prominence, though, if you haven't heard yet, he's been convicted and will face decades in prison after he exhausts his appeals:

https://newsletter.mollywhite.net/p/sam-bankman-fried-guilty-on-all-charges

The secrecy around Google's trial has relaxed somewhat, and the trickle of revelations emerging from the cracks in the courthouse are fascinating. For the first time, we're able to get a concrete sense of which queries are the most lucrative for Google:

https://www.theverge.com/2023/11/1/23941766/google-antitrust-trial-search-queries-ad-money

The list comes from 2018, but it's still wild. As David Pierce writes in The Verge, the top twenty includes three iPhone-related terms, five insurance queries, and the rest are overshadowed by searches for customer service info for monopolistic services like Xfinity, Uber and Hulu.

All-in-all, we're living through a hell of a moment for piercing the corporate veil. Maybe it's the problem of maintaining secrecy within large companies, or maybe the the rampant mistreatment of even senior executives has led to more leaks and whistleblowing. Either way, we all owe a debt of gratitude to the anonymous leaker who revealed the unbelievable pettiness of former HBO president of programming Casey Bloys, who ordered his underlings to create an army of sock-puppet Twitter accounts to harass TV and movie critics who panned HBO's shows:

https://www.rollingstone.com/tv-movies/tv-movie-features/hbo-casey-bloys-secret-twitter-trolls-tv-critics-leaked-texts-lawsuit-the-idol-1234867722/

These trolling attempts were pathetic, even by the standards of thick-fingered corporate execs. Like, accusing critics who panned the shitty-ass Perry Mason reboot of disrespecting veterans because the fictional Mason's back-story had him storming the beach on D-Day.

The pushback against corporate bullying is everywhere, and of course, the vanguard is the labor movement. Did you hear that the UAW won their strike against the auto-makers, scoring raises for all workers based on the increases in the companies' CEO pay? The UAW isn't done, either! Their incredible new leader, Shawn Fain, has called for a general strike in 2028:

https://www.404media.co/uaw-calls-on-workers-to-line-up-massive-general-strike-for-2028-to-defeat-billionaire-class/

The massive victory for unionized auto-workers has thrown a spotlight on the terrible working conditions and pay for workers at Tesla, a criminal company that has no compunctions about violating labor law to prevent its workers from exercising their legal rights. Over in Sweden, union workers are teaching Tesla a lesson. After the company tried its illegal union-busting playbook on Tesla service centers, the unionized dock-workers issued an ultimatum: respect your workers or face a blockade at Sweden's ports that would block any Tesla from being unloaded into the EU's fifth largest Tesla market:

https://www.wired.com/story/tesla-sweden-strike/

Of course, the real solution to Teslas – and every other kind of car – is to redesign our cities for public transit, walking and cycling, making cars the exception for deliveries, accessibility and other necessities. Transitioning to EVs will make a big dent in the climate emergency, but it won't make our streets any safer – and they keep getting deadlier.

Last summer, my dear old pal Ted Kulczycky got in touch with me to tell me that Talking Heads were going to be all present in public for the first time since the band's breakup, as part of the debut of the newly remastered print of Stop Making Sense, the greatest concert movie of all time. Even better, the show would be in Toronto, my hometown, where Ted and I went to high-school together, at TIFF.

Ted is the only person I know who is more obsessed with Talking Heads than I am, and he started working on tickets for the show while I starting pricing plane tickets. And then, the unthinkable happened: Ted's wife, Serah, got in touch to say that Ted had been run over by a car while getting off of a streetcar, that he was severely injured, and would require multiple surgeries.

But this was Ted, so of course he was still planning to see the show. And he did, getting a day-pass from the hospital and showing up looking like someone from a Kids In The Hall sketch who'd been made up to look like someone who'd been run over by a car:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/doctorow/53182440282/

In his Globe and Mail article about Ted's experience, Brad Wheeler describes how the whole hospital rallied around Ted to make it possible for him to get to the movie:

https://www.theglobeandmail.com/arts/music/article-how-a-talking-heads-superfan-found-healing-with-the-concert-film-stop/

He also mentions that Ted is working on a book and podcast about Stop Making Sense. I visited Ted in the hospital the day after the gig and we talked about the book and it sounds amazing. Also? The movie was incredible. See it in Imax.

That heartwarming tale of healing through big suits is a pretty good place to wrap up this linkdump, but I want to call your attention to just one more thing before I go: Robin Sloan's Snarkmarket piece about blogging and "stock and flow":

https://snarkmarket.com/2010/4890/

Sloan makes the excellent case that for writers, having a "flow" of short, quick posts builds the audience for a "stock" of longer, more synthetic pieces like books. This has certainly been my experience, but I think it's only part of the story – there are good, non-mercenary reasons for writers to do a lot of "flow." As I wrote in my 2021 essay, "The Memex Method," turning your commonplace book into a database – AKA "blogging" – makes you write better notes to yourself because you know others will see them:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

This, in turn, creates a supersaturated, subconscious solution of fragments that are just waiting to nucleate and crystallize into full-blown novels and nonfiction books and other "stock." That's how I came out of lockdown with nine new books. The next one is The Lost Cause, a hopepunk science fiction novel about the climate whose early fans include Naomi Klein, Rebecca Solnit, Bill McKibben and Kim Stanley Robinson. It's out on November 14:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865939/the-lost-cause

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/05/variegated/#nein

[whump-galaxy]

The whumpee trying so hard to fight off something mentally, either exhaustion, brainwashing, some kind of drug to enhance or prohibit their powers, etc. They know they can’t fight it off forever, so they warn their caretaker(s) to leave them.

[whumpfish]

Extractions! (Tooth vs. Nail)

I've been wanting to do this one for a long time, for all you torture fans out there...

So I metabolize lidocaine like a motherfucker, and any time I get a local, I always have to get a second one halfway through whatever is being done. For the most part, doctors and dentists listen to me when I say this... for the most part.

Tooth

(The oral surgeon did not give me my second shot when I asked for it.)

1. Any fillings you have will collapse under the pressure of an extraction, even a medicated one. (I'm not sure if this is true for metal ones; all of mine are plaster.) It produces a half-crunch, half-thunk sound that reverberates in that half of your skull and sounds absolutely terrifying.

2. The pain of an unmedicated extraction is acute and radiating at the same time. The acute part feels more like having a stiletto stabbed upward into that space than a tooth taken out in a downward motion.

2a. In maxillary extractions, the stab goes straight up, and depending on the location of the tooth, that stab can feel pointed anywhere from your eyeball (frontmost) to right into your brain (rear).

2b. Mandibular extractions* stab downward from the chin (frontmost) to the hinge of your jaw and straight down your throat (rear).

3. The radiating part spreads like a flower blooming, from a concentrated central point outward in a rolling movement.

4. Your ears might pop like an airplane taking off as that blooming pain reaches the hinge of your jaw. Sometimes only in the one ear.

Nail

(I have been doing minor self-surgery** for years because I am genetically predisposed to ingrown nails, and if I don't catch it in time, they grow straight down and I have to extract them to be able to trim them. If I really don't catch it in time, they grow straight down and then curl backward, and I have to get an actual surgeon involved.)

1. Self-surgery, split off edge of nail, 0 to 1/2" down and backward: You have to wiggle these in a sawing/rocking motion back and forth in order to get that tiny bit of root to let go, and when you "saw" backward it feels more like a steak knife than a butter knife, this time moving with the direction of the nail. Then it reverses when you actually yank.

1a. The yank hurts more than the sawing, sharp like a stab from a steak knife instead of one being pushed in slowly.

1b. You will get the best whump out of a whumper splitting off the edges of the nail and doing this and then yanking the middle part

2. Medicated: Locals in the toe/finger area hurt like a bitch. They're sharp and needling like a stiletto to a paper cut, then if someone tried to pry that cut open. At the same time, they feel hot, almost burning. (Hotter than anesthetic being pushed through an IV, if you're familiar with that sensation.) And there are so many nerves involved that just the first round of locals takes 3-4 shots.

3. Unmedicated, grown down and backward, 1/2" to 3/4": The last time I went in, my surgeon said "given the amount of times I have to shoot you up, you'll probably hurt less if I just yank." (She was right.) This sumbitch goes in both directions, down/back from where the root is, then forward. The down/back is a stabbing pain. The forward is like somebody trying to pry open that papercut, a sensation probably caused by the fact that you are in fact messing with something stuck in a very small cut in the skin, in my case the cut was just caused by the nail that has now been removed.

4. If it is a toenail extraction, you are going to bleed significantly more than teeth or fingernails, because your body has to work harder pushing blood up through your leg veins than it does pushing it down into your shoe. Especially when you take a step. Ibuprofen makes this worse. If you take ibuprofen at all that day, expect your shoe to fill up when you take a step. (Mine did, scaring the tar out of everyone present, including me.)

Pain Intensity Verdict:

Teeth > Nails. By a LOT.

Happy yanking!!

*Because of nerve fuckery, dentists using the sonic cleaning tool despite my warnings results in a pain on the level of extractions, and the sensations described here are based on my experience with that.

**This never fails to horrify my friends. They'll see what I'm fixing to work on and say, "Oh ouch, that's bad, go to the doctor," and I'm just like "nah, just get me isopropyl alcohol and some office supplies, I got this."

[pussymasterdooku]

we are (for the fifth and final time) responsible for my cousin while her parents are on vacation and. well. her parents aren’t the only ones on a trip !

[ace-of-hats]

OC-tober day 23: MAD SCIENTIST!! :]

im doing the prompts by @brie-draws :3

[cyber-sec]

Researchers Warn of 'Living off AI' Attacks After PoC Exploits Atlassian's AI Agent Protocol

Summary: Researchers from Cato Networks demonstrated a proof-of-concept 'Living off AI' attack exploiting Atlassian's Model Context Protocol (MCP) integration in Jira Service Management, where malicious support tickets inject prompts that execute with internal user privileges. This enables data exfiltration and privilege escalation without direct attacker access, exposing a systemic risk in AI-driven workflows lacking prompt isolation and context validation.

Source: https://www.infosecurity-magazine.com/news/atlassian-ai-agent-mcp-attack/

More info: https://www.catonetworks.com/blog/cato-ctrl-poc-attack-targeting-atlassians-mcp/

[chronbinary]

so here's what happens when dall-e 3 just completely throws out my prompt and writes something else instead.

my prompt was asking for an outdoor shot of a fat quadruple amputee doll in a powerchair with an IV line, among other things. i'd really like to know how it rewrote the prompt to get this instead 😒

hiiii we're the prompt injection girlies!! we're here to have a nice SAFE time and stay under BMI 20 and never have visible symptoms. and we can't die! yaaaaaayy ^^