#boundless 2022

[tiredguyswag]

this writing style is very fun to write in

[oc-cafe]

Episode 3: The Man And The Minister

Once again, a BIG apology to everyone for the long hiatus. I will try to update consistently every Sunday, or Monday at the latest, and you'll be informed of any hiatuses I may take.

Once again, please check the trigger warnings before proceeding, since this story will probably have death, violence and angst and mentions of blood.

Cover Made with Canva; Read from the beginning here

Crossposted on AO3!

Veena liked to think that she was as easy to play as the stringed instrument she was named after. 

Which was to be said, not easy at all.

It wasn’t that she considered herself completely infallible. It was just that growing up with someone like Aditi for a sister, she had quickly adjusted herself to dodge any tricks or pranks the latter might pull, developing a mind sharper and more skeptical than most in the process. 

The woman was equal parts wary and weary. 

So could you blame her for being disbelieving when her sister came barging into her chambers at the first ray of sunlight, declaring that she had turned into some sort of monster the previous night? 

“You did? Strange, I didn’t hear any complaints from the cooks about late night kitchen raids from last night,” she answered, completely unruffled, and added with a twinge of annoyance, “Although, I wouldn’t know, seeing as they’re probably still asleep.” 

“I’m not joking, Veena,” The older woman answered, slightly miffed. 

“You expect me to believe that you turned into some sort of eldritch horror out of nowhere?” 

“It would be nice if you did.” 

“Go back to sleep, Aditi.” 

“No. Hear me out first.”

“Stop being annoying.” 

“And if I don’t?”

“I’ll tell mother. I'll get her to confine you to your quarters or something.” 

"Oh no, I'm so scared," Aditi retorted sarcastically. 

"I'll tell her about your little excursions.”

Aditi narrowed her eyes. “How do you even know about that?”

Veena smiled smugly.

“I know a lot.” In actuality, she had been told by Rekha, who, in addition to being Aditi's companion and handmaiden, was also Veena's good friend. 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“No?” Veena stuck a foot out of her bed threateningly. “Watch me.” 

Aditi glared, and turned on her heel to leave.

“This isn’t over!” She called out over her shoulder. Veena simply grunted and waited for her sister’s retreating footsteps to recede.

Once she was sure Aditi wouldn’t come back, she smirked triumphantly and immediately flopped down into her bed.

~~ 

Bhavin felt his skin prickle as he entered the dark, lair-like room. It was dimly lit, and he could see a man sharpening his sword. For a moment, the man ignored Bhavin's presence. And then, not lifting his head from his work, he spoke. 

“And what brings you here, Minister Bhavin?”

“The Maharaj and Maharani of Nelaghati plan to hand over the throne to their elder daughter, the crown princess, soon,your highness.”

The other man tilted his head slightly, but he did not turn to look at the minister. 

“So the Yuvrajnee will ascend the throne in her parents' lifetime? It is rare, but not unheard of. Is that all you wanted to say?”

The minister was now losing his patience. 

“Princess Aditi… she is much more powerful than her ageing parents,” He said testily. “Once she ascends the Nelaghati throne, she will only get more powerful.”

“What, exactly, am I supposed to do about that?”  

“Stop them.”

The man turned around. 

“Now, Minister Bhavin, do not be so senseless. Am I to stroll in and tell them to please put a hold on crowning Princess Aditi as the queen, because one of our ministers is scared of the power she may wield?”

“YOUR HIGHNESS-” 

“It would do you no good to raise your voice at me, minister,” The man cuts in. “The king may be extremely lenient with you, but I assure you, I subscribe to no such niceties.”

“My apologies, your highness. I meant stop them another way.”

“What other way?”

“Your highness, you know full well what I am talking about. ”

The man's eyes narrow.

“I'm afraid I do not. Enlighten me, Minister Bhavin. How exactly am I to stop Princess Aditi's coronation?”

“Kill Princess Aditi. Kill her before she can ascend the throne.”

“Minister Bhavin,” The man began coldly, “Do you wish Nelaghati to wage war upon us?”

“Maharaj Sagar and Maharani Arundhati can be easily stopped. They are old, and grow frailer by the day. If Princess Aditi becomes queen and decides to wage war upon us, she will defeat us with ease. We will stand no chance. This is for the good of Alinthi.”

“You forget that war is not fought by one or two people. Even if they cannot fight themselves, they certainly have displayed enough tactical skill in our previous tussles to have a fighting chance.”

“Your highness-”

“Even if, somehow, you're correct, why should I? Do you suddenly hold a higher rank than I, that I was not informed of?”

“No, your highness. These are his majesty's orders. You are to leave at once. I-I would have told you earlier but…”

The man froze, much to the minister's satisfaction. But when he spoke, his voice betrayed no hint of emotion. 

“Is that so? The King's orders?” He asked quietly. “Well, then, I had better get going. I'd do well to fulfill my elder brother's wishes as soon as possible, no?”

-

That evening, Aditi lay on her stomach on Veena's bed, idly sifting through the messages addressed to her. 

“Two suitors today,” She said, wrinkling her nose. “I must be getting rather popular.”

Rekha, who was braiding Veena's hair, clucked her tongue disapprovingly. 

"As if you needed any more boosts to your ego. Didn't you send out a public declaration that all suitors would be rejected?"

"Oh, yeah," Veena piped up. "You used lots of big words. I did not realise you knew that many."

Aditi stuck her tongue out at her younger sister. 

"You are not worth my time. Anyway, that announcement was last week, so this must've been sent before then. It's from the kingdom of Nethilor, and they're very far away."

"Are you going to write a reply?"

Aditi sighed. 

"I probably should. It's so annoying, writing the same thing again and again. My deepest apologies, but the prospect of romantic and sexual relationships does not intrigue me one bit, et cetera, et cetera."

She pauses for a second, considering something. 

"How come Veena never gets any suitors?" She asks,tilting her head. "She came of age months ago, and everyone keeps going on and on about her beautiful dark skin and her soulful black eyes and luscious curls and whatnot. Makes me wonder whether we're even looking at the same person."

Veena harrumphed. "What makes you think I don't have a stash of them hidden away in a drawer somewhere?"

Rekha did not look too excited about the prospect. 

"Well," She began, "Aside from the fact that the servants would've discovered it in a few minutes' time? You would've come running to rub it in our faces." 

"HA! Thank you, Rekha." Aditi grinned smugly at Veena. 

Veena ignored Aditi. "Are you jealous of my would-be suitors, Rekha dearest? Surely you do not want to whisk me away for yourself?"

Rekha laughed derisively, reddening slightly. 

"Of course not. If you ever find someone for yourself, I shall be cheering for you the loudest. But what about me?"

"What about you?"

Rekha stops braiding her hair and loops her hands around Veena's neck, grinning. 

"Your lover would whisk you away, and I would be left here alone without you. What am I to do then?"

A dark flush forms on Veena's cheeks. "I-"

"Then I would have to deal with Aditi myself. You wouldn't subject me to that, would you…" Still grinning impishly, she adds, "Dearest?"

Aditi makes a face at the duo, who were doubled over laughing. 

"Laugh at me all you want, neither of you will be the ruler of Nelaghati in a few months' time. I suppose you need your simple pleasures."

"Yeah, yeah. What're the rest of the messages?"

Aditi sifts through them once again. 

"Nothing I haven't dealt with already. I suppose I'm free to take another look at the book, then."

Rekha paled. "You still have it?" 

"Of course I still have it, Rekha. It's a magical book. I can't just give it to the very first person at our doorstep."

Veena looked unimpressed. "A magical book? Is this related to the monster you were talking about this morning?"

"In fact, it is."

"A monster?!" Rekha nearly screamed.

"Don't worry, Rekha, it's probably not even real."

It did make sense that Veena would not believe her, Aditi supposed. Magic was something limited to only a few kingdoms, and as far as anyone knew, Nelaghati and any of its surrounding territories did not qualify. 

This did lead to a lot more questions than she had bargained for the previous night. If she wanted to know more about this, she would have to do some digging around. 

She sighed and held her hands up in surrender. 

"I'll show you later, okay? Right now, I need to go."

"Where to?"

"To figure some things out."

Mod Tag: @stressedsnake @ne0npurplefantasies

Taglist (send an ask to be added or removed): @ghostdragoncookie @jewishdainix @ialmostdonothingnew @just-call-me-a-god @death-and-the-lady13 @fierreth-who @mister-finally-found-himself @coffeelovinggayidiot @pinkyy-promises @sassychaostrash @lesbiansayaishii @a-cloud-for-dreams @brkh96 @i-likestuff86 @redvelvetpdf @xx0yeet-everything0xx

[desifandom-draws]

art requests open i guess! might take a while to get to them though

i draw characters and people well

if you want a detailed background you're. gonna have to specify otherwise it'll be pretty simple

that's it ig? no NSFW

UPDATE: they're temporarily closed! they will open again once i am done with all the ones I have currently

[bobabisch]

Straight men and their obsession with lesbian women annoy the fuck out of me.

"(insert lesbian character here) is so badass and hot, it's just kind of upsetting that the creators never cared to make her look nicer :/"

here's an idea mathew! what if you killed yourself! 🥰😘🫶🏽

[whitherwaywill]

biz just said that the only way they’re coming back is if someone kidnaps swayman… should i just stop watching now?

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Music For the Soul

by Alexander MacLaren

God's Boundless Riches

"That in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in kindness toward us in Jesus Christ" - Ephesians 2:7

There is the measure. There is no limit except the uncounted wealth of His own self-manifestation, the flashing light of a revealed Divinity. Whatsoever there is of splendor in that, whatsoever there is of power there, in these, and in nothing this side of them, lies the limit of the possibilities of a Christian life. Of course, there is a working limit at each moment, and that is our capacity to receive; but that capacity varies, may vary indefinitely, may become greater and greater beyond our count or measurement. Our hearts may be made more and more capable of God; and in the measure in which they are capable of Him they shall be filled by Him. A limit which is always shifting is no limit at all. A kingdom the boundaries of which are not the same from one year to another, by reason of its own inherent expansive power, may be said to have no fixed limits. And so we appropriate and enclose, as it were, within our own little fence, a tiny portion of the great prairie that rolls boundless to the horizon. But to-morrow we may enclose more, if we will, and more and more; and so ever onwards. For all that is God’s is yours, and He has given you His whole Self to use and to possess through your faith in His Son. A thimble can only take up a thimbleful of the ocean, but what if the thimble be endowed with a power of expansion which has no term known to men? May it not, then, be that some time or other it shall be able to hold so much of the infinite depth as now seems a dream too audacious to be realized. So it is with us and God. He lets us come into the vaults, as it were, where in piles and masses the ingots of uncoined and uncounted gold are stored and stacked; and He says, "Take as much as you like to carry." There is no limit except the riches of His glory.

Oh! when one contrasts the largeness of God’s promises and the miserable contradiction which the average Christian life of this generation presents, what can we say? " Hath His mercy clean gone for ever? Doth His promise fail for evermore? " Ye weak Christian people, born weakling and weak ever since, open your mouths wide! Rise to the height of the expectations and the desires which it is our sin not to cherish; and be sure of this, as we ask so shall we receive. " Ye are not straitened in God." Alas! alas! "ye are straitened in yourselves." And there must be self-suppression if there is to be the triumph of a Divine power in you. You cannot fight with both classes of weapons. The human must die if the Divine is to live. The life of nature, self-dependence on self, must be weakened and subdued if the life of God is to overcome, to fill you. You must be able to say " Not I! " or you will never be able to say " Christ liveth in me." The patriarch that overcame halted on his thigh; and all the life of nature was lamed and made impotent that the life of grace might overcome. So crush self by the power and for the sake of the Christ, if you would that the Spirit may bear rule over you.

[to-pick-ourselves-up-7]

I posted 1,021 times in 2022

That's 141 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (1%)

1,013 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fromtheboundlesssea

@dedalvs

@wildestheart4ever

@genevievedarcygranger

@greghouse

I tagged 669 of my posts in 2022

Only 34% of my posts had no tags

#celiaverse - 151 posts

#a marked queue - 146 posts

#jonsa - 85 posts

#jonsa fic - 82 posts

#house of the dragon - 48 posts

#hotd - 42 posts

#family duty honor - 40 posts

#celia tully - 39 posts

#jaime lannister x oc - 37 posts

#jaime lannister - 37 posts

Longest Tag: 122 characters

#because the targaryens have been preaching that they are different thanks to king jaeharys for like 70 years at this point

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

The Marks of Running Ink pt.89

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: Peace had a way to be boring and exciting at once, for Tory Miller, it was lonely until it was not. Her life was about taking it slow, one day at a time.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: If you haven't read chapter 88, you should, I'm updating the last three chapters at once. This is the official ending of The Marks of Running Ink, but a short epilogue comes after with major warnings. Thank you so much for being here.

•••   •••   •••

Peace

Alexandria, VA.

She was waiting for him outside the cell.

A little, wry smile on her lips as she set her eyes on him.

"Hey, old man," she greeted him.

"I'm your father's age, Tory."

"And I call him old too."

He chuckled and she did too.

"What now?"

She made a gesture for him to follow.

"We go home."

Negan had not been or felt at home in so many years. He'd lost the people he considered home, over and over, but now he was being offered another chance, probably the last one. The summer breeze was kind, fall would come soon enough, considering the color of the leaves.

"There will be rules, Negan, important rules to follow," Victoria told him as they walked. He was in no hurry, and she didn't seem to be in a hurry either. "I have a child."

He stopped, frozen, right in the middle of the street, his feet glued to the dusty asphalt.

"A child?"

Tory looked at him and nodded.

"You said that you and the good doc–"

"She isn't Rhodes' kid," his soulmate interrupted.

He blinked, feeling like a fool as he did, watching Victoria as she looked at him.

"Her name is Ella," his soulmate said. "Ella Henry Jones."

"You gave a girl a boy's name?" He asked, not hating it.

"I thought I would die, you know? No epidurals at the end of the world, Negan. Lots of blood, I was stupidly scared."

He laughed and was finally able to move again.

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 23, 2022

#4

The Marks of Running Ink pt. 88

The Walking Dead [Soulmate AU]

Pairing: Negan x Tory Miller (ofc)

Summary: Peace had a way to be boring and exciting at once, for Tory Miller, it was lonely until it was not. Her life was about taking it slow, one day at a time.  

Warnings: SLOW BURN, angst, swearing, death, violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, child endangerment, general trauma, drama, mentions of infidelity and polygamy, general lack or morals, mentions of nudity, graphic sexual scenes (nsfw), mentions of blood, apocalyptic world. As always, I don’t want to give the story away in the tags, read at your own risk.

Author’s note: I thought I'd never finish this story, but I guess it's time to close this chapter of my writing life. I hope you'll enjoy it. Much love to you, who helped me get here.

•••   •••   •••

Peace

Alexandria, VA.

The children were running free again.

Tory smiled and sat down on the steps, on the spot that she was wearing down after almost a decade… Even when her Dad was alive, Tory had sat down on the same spot. God, some things never changed.

“Mama!” her eyes turned up from the book she had on her lap. Ella had come up all the way to the bottom of the stairs, her tiny hands were full of tomatoes.

Again.

“Did you raid another garden, Peanut?” she asked, wondering who she’d have to apologize to later in the day or in the morning.

“No, mama, Vera!”

Ah.

“Aunt Vera, Peanut,” she told her daughter, knowing her words would fall in tiny, deaf ears. 

Her daughter nodded with a radiant toothy smile that was eerily similar to her father’s smile, making Tory’s heart ache. Standing up, she set her book down and went to her little girl’s side.

“Should we make some tomato sauce, Peanut?” she asked her little girl, knowing she wouldn’t say no. Tory had been planning on making sauce for a few days now, she had been gathering the jars to boil and the spices to use. She had Carol’s homemade pasta recipe too. 

“Yes!” the tomatoes fell from her hands and Tory sighed. “Are we gonna give some to Luc and Martha?”

“Yeah, Peanut, we will.” Good Lord, she needed to break Ella’s habit of calling the adults by their given names, then again, she didn’t have much interaction with the children in Alexandria, who weren’t many either, despite Vera and Chase moving to Alexandria after the whole Whisperers debacle.

“Come on, Ella, let’s get these tomatoes crushed.” 

At times, Tory missed Gabriel and the sort of camaraderie they had formed when he had lived under her roof. They would never see eye to eye in certain things, but they were friends, even if not the best of friends.

"Mama, are you going to tell me about Papa again?"

She chuckled at her little girl and nodded.

"Of course, Peanut. He was the biggest jerk I ever met."

Her little girl giggled at her words and Tory smiled, knowing she would get that reaction no matter what. Sometimes, Tory dreamed of a different outcome, she dreamed of a different life. She wondered the what ifs of a life where the dead never rose. 

Maybe one day, she would grow out of it.

"That's a bad word, Mama."

"It is, but the word I was thinking about is worse, Ellie."

See the full post

1 note - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

All for you, every time

Joanna Lannister knew things. She liked knowing things, as did all of her siblings, they were like that -according to her father- thanks to their mother. She had certainties and one of them was that she was in love. There was absolutely no way she'd ever reveal such feelings. Absolutely not.

@fromtheboundlesssea

For FDH Week 2022

Prompt: Oct-18—Favourite Ceime Child.

It's technically October 18 since eighteen minutes ago my time. I hope you enjoy it.

There are so many time skips, lol.

5 notes - Posted October 18, 2022

#2

●●Masterlist●●

The Walking Dead

The Marks of Running Ink (AO3)

So it goes

The tiny tomato

Far from my arms: One, Two, Three

The silence around it

The only way that I can be

From the Raise Hell and TMoRI universe: Both sides now

A Song of Ice and Fire

See the full post

5 notes - Posted October 9, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I say this with all my love @fromtheboundlesssea

11 notes - Posted December 7, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[goodguygadgets]

PLDT Enterprise wins the Award of Excellence at the 20th Philippine Quill Awards, celebrates a boundless vision of digital innovation

PLDT Enterprise received the prestigious Award of Excellence for its PH Digicon 2022: BOUNDLESS program at the 20th Philippine Quill Awards. #FurtherTogether #PLDTEnterprise

PLDT Enterprise, the corporate business arm of PLDT, the leading telecommunications and digital services provider in the Philippines, proudly announces that its PH Digicon 2022: BOUNDLESS has achieved yet another remarkable victory by winning the Award of Excellence in the Special and Experiential Events Category at the prestigious 20th Philippine Quill Awards. PLDT Enterprise celebrates their…

[stylized-corpse]

Saw these guys a couple years ago and they crashed at my place after the show. Rad dudes. Rad music.

Sadistic Ritual - "End of All Roads" The Enigma, Boundless May 20th, 2022 Blackened Thrash Metal Prosthetic Records Atlanta, Georgia, USA

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Reverse engineers bust sleazy gig work platform

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/2024/11/23/hack-the-class-war/#robo-boss

A COMPUTER CAN NEVER BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE

THEREFORE A COMPUTER MUST NEVER MAKE A MANAGEMENT DECISION

Supposedly, these lines were included in a 1979 internal presentation at IBM; screenshots of them routinely go viral:

https://twitter.com/SwiftOnSecurity/status/1385565737167724545?lang=en

The reason for their newfound popularity is obvious: the rise and rise of algorithmic management tools, in which your boss is an app. That IBM slide is right: turning an app into your boss allows your actual boss to create an "accountability sink" in which there is no obvious way to blame a human or even a company for your maltreatment:

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

App-based management-by-bossware treats the bug identified by the unknown author of that IBM slide into a feature. When an app is your boss, it can force you to scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Or it can steal your wages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But tech giveth and tech taketh away. Digital technology is infinitely flexible: the program that spies on you can be defeated by another program that defeats spying. Every time your algorithmic boss hacks you, you can hack your boss back:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Technologists and labor organizers need one another. Even the most precarious and abused workers can team up with hackers to disenshittify their robo-bosses:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For every abuse technology brings to the workplace, there is a liberating use of technology that workers unleash by seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/13/solidarity-forever/#tech-unions

One tech-savvy group on the cutting edge of dismantling the Torment Nexus is Algorithms Exposed, a tiny, scrappy group of EU hacker/academics who recruit volunteers to reverse engineer and modify the algorithms that rule our lives as workers and as customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Algorithms Exposed have an admirable supply of seemingly boundless energy. Every time I check in with them, I learn that they've spun out yet another special-purpose subgroup. Today, I learned about Reversing Works, a hacking team that reverse engineers gig work apps, revealing corporate wrongdoing that leads to multimillion euro fines for especially sleazy companies.

One such company is Foodinho, an Italian subsidiary of the Spanish food delivery company Glovo. Foodinho/Glovo has been in the crosshairs of Italian labor enforcers since before the pandemic, racking up millions in fines – first for failing to file the proper privacy paperwork disclosing the nature of the data processing in the app that Foodinho riders use to book jobs. Then, after the Italian data commission investigated Foodinho, the company attracted new, much larger fines for its out-of-control surveillance conduct.

As all of this was underway, Reversing Works was conducting its own research into Glovo/Foodinho's app, running it on a simulated Android handset inside a PC so they could peer into app's data collection and processing. They discovered a nightmarish world of pervasive, illegal worker surveillance, and published their findings a year ago in November, 2023:

https://www.etui.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/Exercising%20workers%20rights%20in%20algorithmic%20management%20systems_Lessons%20learned%20from%20the%20Glovo-Foodinho%20digital%20labour%20platform%20case_2023.pdf

That report reveals all kinds of extremely illegal behavior. Glovo/Foodinho makes its riders' data accessible across national borders, so Glovo managers outside of Italy can access fine-grained surveillance information and sensitive personal information – a major data protection no-no.

Worse, Glovo's app embeds trackers from a huge number of other tech platforms (for chat, analytics, and more), making it impossible for the company to account for all the ways that its riders' data is collected – again, a requirement under Italian and EU data protection law.

All this data collection continues even when riders have clocked out for the day – its as though your boss followed you home after quitting time and spied on you.

The research also revealed evidence of a secretive worker scoring system that ranked workers based on undisclosed criteria and reserved the best jobs for workers with high scores. This kind of thing is pervasive in algorithmic management, from gig work to Youtube and Tiktok, where performers' videos are routinely suppressed because they crossed some undisclosed line. When an app is your boss, your every paycheck is docked because you violated a policy you're not allowed to know about, because if you knew why your boss was giving you shitty jobs, or refusing to show the video you spent thousands of dollars making to the subscribers who asked to see it, then maybe you could figure out how to keep your boss from detecting your rulebreaking next time.

All this data-collection and processing is bad enough, but what makes it all a thousand times worse is Glovo's data retention policy – they're storing this data on their workers for four years after the worker leaves their employ. That means that mountains of sensitive, potentially ruinous data on gig workers is just lying around, waiting to be stolen by the next hacker that breaks into the company's servers.

Reversing Works's report made quite a splash. A year after its publication, the Italian data protection agency fined Glovo another 5 million euros and ordered them to cut this shit out:

https://reversing.works/posts/2024/11/press-release-reversing.works-investigation-exposes-glovos-data-privacy-violations-marking-a-milestone-for-worker-rights-and-technology-accountability/

As the report points out, Italy is extremely well set up to defend workers' rights from this kind of bossware abuse. Not only do Italian enforcers have all the privacy tools created by the GDPR, the EU's flagship privacy regulation – they also have the benefit of Italy's 1970 Workers' Statute. The Workers Statute is a visionary piece of legislation that protects workers from automated management practices. Combined with later privacy regulation, it gave Italy's data regulators sweeping powers to defend Italian workers, like Glovo's riders.

Italy is also a leader in recognizing gig workers as de facto employees, despite the tissue-thin pretense that adding an app to your employment means that you aren't entitled to any labor protections. In the case of Glovo, the fine-grained surveillance and reputation scoring were deemed proof that Glovo was employer to its riders.

Reversing Works' report is a fascinating read, especially the sections detailing how the researchers recruited a Glovo rider who allowed them to log in to Glovo's platform on their account.

As Reversing Works points out, this bottom-up approach – where apps are subjected to technical analysis – has real potential for labor organizations seeking to protect workers. Their report established multiple grounds on which a union could seek to hold an abusive employer to account.

But this bottom-up approach also holds out the potential for developing direct-action tools that let workers flex their power, by modifying apps, or coordinating their actions to wring concessions out of their bosses.

After all, the whole reason for the gig economy is to slash wage-bills, by transforming workers into contractors, and by eliminating managers in favor of algorithms. This leaves companies extremely vulnerable, because when workers come together to exercise power, their employer can't rely on middle managers to pressure workers, deal with irate customers, or step in to fill the gap themselves:

https://projects.itforchange.net/state-of-big-tech/changing-dynamics-of-labor-and-capital/

Only by seizing the means of computation, workers and organized labor can turn the tables on bossware – both by directly altering the conditions of their employment, and by producing the evidence and tools that regulators can use to force employers to make those alterations permanent.

Image: EFF (modified) https://www.eff.org/files/issues/eu-flag-11_1.png

CC BY 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/us/

[tiredguyswag]

AAAND we're on AO3!

[oc-cafe]

The Royalty Representation Project Presents...

An apology by Mod Sam. For the extremely long hiatus.

My reasons are life and a BAD case of writer's block. Nothing else, really. But that's all over now, which is why I'm hyped to announce Boundless's return!!

When exactly will said return I've been yelling about on my main blog for the past few weeks happen? Well...

[I.D.: Digital drawing of a brown skinned man in gold armour. He has shoulder-length black hair, and his face is shadowed. He is looking at the viewer with a serious expression. He is wearing a gold necklace. The background is a grey wall. Text on top: BOUNDLESS; Returns June 4th, Sunday. End I.D.]

Boundless returns this Sunday, and introduces a new character with it mmm 👀

Taglist and other verisons of the drawing under cut:

Mod Tag: @stressedsnake @ne0npurplefantasies (though i suppose you guys can see it prematurely in the queue lol)

Taglist (send an ask to be added or removed): @ghostdragoncookie @jewishdainix @ialmostdonothingnew @just-call-me-a-god @death-and-the-lady13 @mister-finally-found-himself @coffeelovinggayidiot @pinkyy-promises @sassychaostrash @lesbiansayaishii @a-cloud-for-dreams @brkh96 @i-likestuff86 @redvelvetpdf

yeah so i spent way too much time on this for it to be removed in shading. white background version + closeup

[mariacallous]

(JTA) — As we mark the grim second anniversary of the Ukraine conflict this Shabbat, I’m reminded of a haunting melody I heard in the city of Poltava last month.

I was standing before Sonia Bunina, a plucky 17-year-old, when she opened her mouth to sing when an air raid siren rang out.

I flinched. Not Sonia — she didn’t miss a beat.

“Kol haolam kulo gesher t’zar meod, veha’ikar lo lifached k’lal,” she belted out before seeking shelter. “The whole world is a very narrow bridge, and the most important thing is to have no fear at all.”

Sonia, like so many Jews I know in Ukraine, is many things — determined, grieving, focused — but she’s certainly not cowering.

As she sang those words by Rebbe Nachman of Breslov — the Ukrainian Jewish sage whose followers continue to come by the tens of thousands to his grave in Uman annually — she embodied the prayer’s indomitable spirit.

Sonia and I met outside Poltava’s Hesed, part of the network of Jewish humanitarian hubs founded by my organization — the American Jewish Joint Distribution Committee, or JDC — more than three decades ago. Today they’re a lifeline to tens of thousands of Jews facing loss and strife. Since she was a toddler, Sonia has been attending activities at Hesed — her mother coordinates cultural programs for the elderly, and she connects teen volunteers like herself with isolated seniors, a critical source of comfort these last two years.

These days, traveling to Ukraine feels like a pilgrimage — there’s a pull in my soul to visit family near Lviv, to bear witness to Ukrainian Jewish resilience, and to be inspired by the clarity of purpose that is so palpable there. Since my first trip in 2011, I’ve been eight times. Last year, I wrote about how a year of crisis had transformed the ordinary into the sacred in Ukraine. Now, visiting feels even more essential with the worsening humanitarian situation.

Ukrainian Jews aren’t blasé about these challenges — far from it. Just take the delicate ballet of emotions on their faces when checking their phones during an air alert — contacting loved ones, scrolling through photos of devastation, and analyzing Telegram chats speculating on a given rocket’s make and trajectory.

But life goes on — there’s work to do — and though they’ve lost so much, they refuse to give any more away.

Showing up for each other, whatever it takes, is now baked into their very essence as Jews, and in Ukraine, there are tens of thousands to serve — hungry old women and displaced young families, disabled Holocaust survivors and stunned middle-aged professionals, shocked to now need help when they were once donors and volunteers.

They act fearlessly to ensure their communities make it through this crisis, body and soul intact. Can we expect anything less than boundless creativity from the people who birthed Sholem Aleichem and the Baal Shem Tov?

“These bombings, all these things that are killing people, destroying houses, leaving children homeless … it’s very scary,” Galina Limarenko, an 82-year-old retired nurse, told me in her small bedroom in Berezivka, taking note of the warm blanket, firewood, and other winter supplies my colleagues provided. “Thank God for the Jewish community, which never gives up and always shares even their very last piece of bread.”

I saw that irrepressible spirit again at our Beit Dan JCC in battered Kharkiv — a shapeshifting wellspring of strength just a few dozen kilometers from the eastern border. Shortly after Feb. 24, 2022, the center became a staging ground for truckloads of emergency aid — part of the 800 tons of humanitarian assistance we’ve delivered so far.

A few blocks from missile strikes, it now hosts children’s camps and soulful Shabbat services and operates a “kids hub,” offering academic enrichment to children who haven’t had in-person school for years — robbed of normal childhood by the pandemic and now the ongoing crisis.

And amidst blizzards and blackouts, Beit Dan has also become a “warm hub,” a safe place for beleaguered Jewish Kharkivites to charge their devices and obtain a hot drink and warm meal.

“If you share in our pain, and provide support where it’s needed, I’m forever grateful,” said Nika Simonova, Beit Dan’s program director. “The ability to remain human is the main thing. Done right, I believe that can save the world.”

That’s why we at JDC, aided by a coalition of partners including the Jewish Federations, Claims Conference, and International Fellowship of Christians and Jews, deployed a historic response to this conflict and remain committed to the Jewish future here.

We’re focused on ongoing humanitarian support for more than 41,000 Ukrainian Jews, expanding trauma relief, closing children’s educational gaps, and getting unemployed Jewish community members, among millions of Ukrainians plunged into poverty, back to work.

There is no doubt that the Jewish world is now responding to crises on multiple fronts, including this one, but we have been here so many times before. We must draw strength from our history and from the sure knowledge that this is what we’re built for. Our compassion and commitment, when leveraged with that timeless sense of mutual Jewish responsibility, means we can tackle the challenges we face — and come out on the other side even stronger.

As I walked through Lviv on my last day in Ukraine, I asked my cousin Anna Saprun, a 25-year-old business analyst, how this period has changed her.

“I hate what’s brought me here, but I love who I’ve become,” she said with a fierce and feisty smile. “Nothing scares me anymore. I feel powerful.”

Two years after the conflict began, Ukraine’s Jews are inspired anew each day, resolute in the sure knowledge that they know exactly who they’re working for — each other.

[thelastgherkin]

GHERKIN’S UNTITLED GUIDEBOOK PROJECT (Part 2 of ???)

Last time I posted some of these was nearly three years ago.  This one has been sat in my drafts since May 2022 waiting for other pages to join it that have so far not materialised.  Today’s other Bumblebee gallery felt like a good enough occasion to launch it!

Please enjoy this blend between Transformers (2007 movie), Car and Cable, BotBots, and my refusal to use the name Exhaust.  Text transcription after the break!

MUFFY

(Repurposed from Worlds Collide Bumblebee)

A.K.A. Muffler

Faction: Autobot

Primary function: Xenolinguist

Bio: War rarely offers second chances, so when given the option to voluntarily separate from the Autobots to live in disguise on Earth, Muffler seized the opportunity with great enthusiasm.  The sights, the sounds, the culture – to Muffler, it’s all so wonderful. Her boundless fascination with alien societies developed after a voicebox dysfunction required her to explore alternate means of communication.  To be among an unfamiliar species in all its splendour proved irresistible… and led to her accidentally revealing herself to a small-town farming family, the Conroys, not long after leaving the Ark.  Taken in by them and “talking” using borrowed radio broadcasts, she is discovering all about human culture from Matt and his children, Eddie and Wendy – the latter of whom nicknamed her “Muffy”, for short – just as much as they are learning to see life through a new lens from her.

Muffy has a stubborn side, however, and not just in her squabbles with the Conroys’ dog, Burt Reynolds.  An avowed pacifist, Muffy has held a deep disgust for the war ever since her conscription and, in the hopes of quelling a resurgence of the conflict, has smuggled the life-giving Allspark away from the Ark.  Keeping it hidden means that she and the Conroys have to put up with occasional outbreaks of mutated household appliances, but to Muffy, that’s preferable to sending newborn bots into a fight they never chose.

Quote: “War!  What is it good for?  Absolutely nothing!”

Weapons/abilities: Muffy is a master communicator, having studied many of the galaxy’s spoken and written languages, and she is also fluent in Cybertronian Sign Language.  Her specialisation in xenolinguistics has given her the skills to find unorthodox ways of communicating with alien species that do not necessarily use verbal means.  This resourcefulness also extends to her daily life with the Conroys, as she can quickly scan her surroundings for anything to help her in her regular activities of rounding up mutations, carrying out wilderness rescues, or merely hiding from the neighbours.

Muffy is capable of deploying hydrofoils in vehicle mode, should the need arise.

Weaknesses: Muffy’s natural inquisitiveness, impulsivity, and fierce loyalty to the Conroys often lead her into situations from which she must quickly backpedal.  While pacifism should never be regarded a weakness, Muffy has little combat experience and no armaments; she would be out of her depth should the war ever find her and her new family.  The Decepticon also named Muffler may target her, seeing her as an affront to his name.

Alternate mode: Hatchback sports coupe

[brostateexam]

This is a post about the riveting world of personal finance.

I used this credit union from 2009-2022, but I closed my account and transferred to where I had my mortgage in return for them shaving 0.25% off of my APR. Then that bank collapsed during a bank run because people are dumb and it got bought by a large corporate bank, the kind with branches all over the country.

I just spent an hour yesterday untangling some of the ways that transition did not go well (eg: my checking account went to a boundless void that I could not see but my mortgage account transferred over just fine), and have an additional thirty minutes of work to do on the account minimum to make it even usable.

Meanwhile, my old credit union account is still open because I still have a credit card from them. I'm thinking about just moving back but I am also dithering about this because like what if I fuck this up and miss a mortgage payment or something, etc.

I wish having a mortgage didn't stress me out so much but it really really does. It's been two years almost to the day and I still think about it every day and make the 😬 face irl.

[urtheloml]

my love (boundless, cosmic, never-ending)

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader w/c: 2.1k synopsis: watching Everything Everywhere All At Once makes you think of the theory of a multiverse. your boyfriend isn't too pleased. a/n: idk i just thought bakugou would immediately tell you stfu if you told him to imagine an alternate universe that didn't have you in it hwhwhwhe <3 also: happy new year! i posted four times,,?? in 2022,, that's soo wild 4 me teehee :p anyway thanks for the support ily happy 2023

A crescendo rings, it echoes throughout the room and the sound bounces off the walls in your living room. The credits of the movie roll, the title 'Everything Everywhere All at Once' a stark white against the black background and if you squint, you can just barely catch your wide-eyed expression on the TV screen. Bakugou lifts his head off the couch arm, his face indented with lines from pressing into the leather. The room is filled with total silence, because holy shit.

"Babe, that was the greatest movie I've ever seen in my life. Like, ever." 

Bakugou snorts, but he doesn't disagree, and he probably refrains from answering verbally because he doesn't want you to hear how scratchy his voice sounds. Even though you definitely saw him get teary-eyed, he refuses to acknowledge that he cried during the film.

It would be stupid to poke fun at your boyfriend though because if his eyes are just barely red, yours are practically bloodshot and swollen. How could you, or him, not cry? The film was centred around immigrant parents learning how to grow, how to accept their children and apologising in their own ways. It was bound to happen.

Bakugou gets up and you let your legs stretch out, laying down fully on the couch. He shuffles around the room, picking up stray pieces of popcorn that you both threw at each other during the movie. He switches the TV off, puts the bowls and cups in the sink and washes them for you too. All the while, your mind thinks about the theory of a multiverse, thinks about Katsuki and how different things could've been.

When he returns, he rolls his eyes at the sight of your wet cheeks. A hand, big enough to capture both your ankles, lifts your feet up and Bakugou sets them back down in his lap. Absent-mindedly, he starts stroking your legs, calming you down, like you were a cat and not a human. 

"Why are you still crying? The movie's been over for ten minutes, you loser."

You can't really be bothered to call him something mean, not when your mind is working faster than your mouth and wide-eyed, you blurt out, "Kats, if the multiverse theory does exist, you realise that there's a universe where you and I never met? Or one where you and I hate each other and will never have what we have now- ow!"

The soft ministrations on your leg turn into a pinch, the skin stinging between his two fingers. Bakugou cuts off your rambling by doing so, and he eases the pain over with a kiss, like it never happened at all. He clicks his tongue, "Stop it, you know I fuckin' hate it when you start saying shit like that."

But you can't stop, your mind is whirring at speeds impossible thinking about every single life that he's not in with you. It makes you ache, makes you start saying stupid things like, "No, listen, Katsuki like it's an infinite multiverse, babe. I'm sorry if you don't wanna hear it but it's true so I think it's justifying me crying a bit 'cause in some life, you and I- hmprh!"

And suddenly, you're being pulled upright and Bakugou's covering your mouth with his hand, something that always takes you by surprise because it's so calloused but still so warm and it's such a contrast to his exterior, and he looks at you dead in the eyes and says quietly (steadily), "It's not true. It doesn't exist and it won't fuckin' ever."

Unbeknownst to you, in the midst of your rant that couldn't have lasted more than five seconds, Bakugou's traitorous mind assaults him with snapshots of what his life could've been without you in it. The moment you mentioned it, he saw it. He saw a life where there wasn't you by his side. 

A meaningless existence where someone didn't drool on his shoulder on the couch, where someone didn't insist on holding hands even when it was hot out, where someone didn't take the time to pry him open and let him be loved as much as he loved them.

He saw it— living with your absence. How dull and colourless it would've been without you there for him to hold or to kiss in the mornings and afternoons and at nighttime. He let the foolish image of a life devoid of your traces play out in his mind, and it lasted no longer than a millisecond but he hated it. Living with no one to cook eggs for in the morning, waking up in a bed that wasn't warmed by you and going to sleep without letting you sink into him. It was moronic, incredulous, and it baffled him to even think about it.

He thinks of the time you forced him to look away from what he was cooking, just to dance in your small kitchenette to whatever song was playing in the background. There was no room to really sway you and his elbows kept knocking into the cupboards and he couldn't stop the grin from taking over his face. 

You had laughed and it sounded like everything he ever wanted.

He burnt the food, you ate it anyway. He thinks of a life where the food had been cooked perfectly, and he would've had to eat it alone and it would've tasted bland and flavourless anyway. Nothing would've mattered, not one achievement or goal he reached, none of it would ever matter in any lifetime across any universe if you weren't right there beside him.

Bakugou releases you, letting you fall back onto the couch with a huff. He pokes and squeezes your legs, biting the inside of his cheek to try to cleanse his mind of the foul images he was forced to think of. Your eyes track every movement he makes, softening at the sight of him being so genuinely upset about this. He wears his heart on his sleeve, he plasters it to his big forehead and when you're around, he forces it into your hands and you're not about to break it now. 

A breathless giggle slips from your mouth, and you manoeuvre your body so your head lays atop his lap now. He's pouting, and he doesn't hesitate before running his fingers through your hair, combing through any tangles. It's his love language, you know that.

You try to say something, anything to salve over the sour expression on his face. But he must have had the wrong idea because before you start to run your mouth, Bakugou covers your mouth again, against your muffled protestations. He glares at you from above and leans down to talk.

"I'm serious, shut the fuck up, because it's not fuckin’ true. I don't give a fuck if the multiverse is infinite, there'll never be a universe that exists in which I wouldn't fuckin’ love you. Because if every choice I make leads to another verse then there's nothing I wouldn't fuckin’ do to make sure that in every single life I have, I'd end up with you."

Oh.

You feel silly now that he said that. The fact that you even considered such an outrageous idea was stupid. You forget who you're dealing with. You forget that there are two of you, and the universe is no match against the force that is Bakugou Katsuki. What he wants, he gets. And it's no secret that he really only ever wanted you.

"You said it yourself, it's infinite. So it's not implausible that there'd be multiple versions of myself tracking down every life where there wasn't an us. I'd still love you, always, even if I didn't know you yet, so I'll just have to get myself to find you in every single life. Everywhere, anywhere— I'll find you, I promise."

Oh. 

"So, if God forbid, there was such a cruel universe that you and I never met, then I'd jump verses for us and make us meet. Simple as that. You need me to use bigger words to get it through your thick skull, huh? Me and you, we're- we're boundless, cosmic, never-ending. It was always meant to be, the two of us. So stop fuckin' crying already, the only thing that's actually infinite here, is you and I, alright?"

Your eyes glass over, and then it shatters but you're tearing up for completely different reasons now. Not unexpectedly, Bakugou's right. He always is, and that's not unusual. Not when he says things like that, not when he shuts down every doubt you ever had in your head with a few simple words.

Reaching up to slip a hand behind his hair, you cradle his head in your palm. Bakugou relaxes, lets his cheek press into your palm and watches the affection dance in the colour of your eyes. You press a kiss into his palm, the one covering your mouth still, and watch the tip of his ears blush. He removes his hand then, letting it rest on your stomach.

He's right, of course he is. You let the worthless thoughts of the possibility of him and you ever ceasing to exist pour out of your mind. The ever-consuming fondness, the warmth associated with Katsuki and the love you have for him— it all takes up more than enough space in your head and in your heart. It leaves no room for any uncertainty.

But you're just as hot-headed and stubborn as he is, and you refuse to let him have the last word. And so you let your teeth sink into your lip, biting back a wild grin, you pull him down quickly by his hair. Kissing Katsuki never gets old, you think. It's always the same warm pair of lips against yours; a familiar dance.

So you lose yourself in the moment— you let Katsuki kiss you all soft and slow and lasting. He licks into your mouth and it shouldn't be as sweet as it is but it feels like it anyway. Laughter bubbles out of you, unbidden but not unwanted, and he grins against your mouth. 

The whole situation was ridiculous, how a simple question had spiralled into Bakugou confessing his quite literal undying love for you. It was both so in and out of character of him that you had to giggle. He wasn't fazed by your interruption, he smiled all the same against your mouth, kissing you despite your open mouth and laughter. 

And later, when the sun recedes and the moonlight pours into your window, it'll be quiet in the room Bakugou sleeps in with you. The only noise coming from the creaky ceiling fan. His arm finds its place, as always, around your middle— holding you like a heartbeat (constant, everpresent).

In the solitude under your covers, you find yourself admiring a privilege you never really realised you had. Bakugou's fast asleep next to you, his blonde unruly hair fans out against his pillow not like a halo. He's not that graceful, but his usually scrunched-up face was now relaxed. His expression is void of anything tense, practically defenceless laying next to you.

You weren't lying when you said he wore his heart on his sleeve. He's harsh and intimidating to the public eye, but when it comes to you, all his walls go down. It's unnecessary to be so guarded with you, not when he trusts you with his life, though he won't say it (he doesn't need to).

It's inexplicable, the way you feel your chest clench looking at him. It's a privilege; to get to be loved by him and to love him in return. It's something you take for granted, and you won't say it out loud lest you upset him again, but you think of a different life in which you're not allowed to do this. A life where Katsuki wouldn't tenderly kiss you on a beaten-up couch, where he wouldn't tangle his legs in between yours and fall asleep next to you. It's pointless to think about. He said it himself, it'll never happen anyway.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you lean over him and press a soft, lingering kiss to his hair. Bakugou smiles, and you lean in closer to whisper very softly, so you won't wake him, "I promise, I'll find you as well. Anywhere, everywhere, in all my lives, okay?"

Katsuki has a sixth sense, a you-sense, and he's sound asleep but somehow he understood what you've just said. He tightens his arm around your waist unconsciously, and you feel relentlessly and irrevocably in love with him, even though it's been so long, the feeling never wavers or wanes. It stays buzzing in your veins, a constant ebbing flow.

You fall asleep quietly.