#enterprise plus edition

[star-trek-dumb-comics]

Ok so I finally watched Prodigy ! And it was surprisingly good. This is obviously a kids' show but I ended up being pretty invested in the story. The main character started as Ezra Bridger-ass annoying but he's grown on me. Genuinely I think this might be the best new trek show with Lower Decks lmao. It even got me caring about what happens to CHAKOTAY of all things !

Also it had GREAT alien rep omfg there were so few humans I LOVE THIS SHIT !!! especially UFP founding members rep ahhhhh !!!!!!!!!! I've been wanting this for YEARS they did it for me

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.

.⋆｡Office Crushes｡⋆.

Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader

Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously

Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff

WC: 3.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.

You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.

A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.

Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.

You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.

‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.

Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer. 

You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.

——————

The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room. 

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.

“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.

Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.

Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.

Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”

The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing. 

“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.

“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.

You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”

“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.

Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”

You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”

He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”

You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.” 

You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.

As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.

“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”

“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.

“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.

——————

“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night. 

“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.

Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.

“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.

“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.

“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”

You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?” 

“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.

Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”

“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!” 

“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.

The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.

He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?

Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.

“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.

The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?

“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.

“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.

“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses. 

He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass. 

His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.

The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.

“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck. 

Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.

“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”

“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”

“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips. 

Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.

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[flwrkid14]

The Batfamily’s Christmas List Tradition (and how Tim gets lost in it)

The Batfamily has a long-standing Christmas tradition: the List. With so many members in the family, it’s a necessity. Everyone writes down what they want (within reason, of course), and the list serves as the ultimate gift guide. It’s efficient, especially for such a big family, and it ensures no one ends up with seven pairs of socks or the same gadget twice.

Tim takes the list seriously. It’s his chance to ask for the small, thoughtful things he wouldn’t usually splurge on for himself. Things like:

New makeup brushes. His old ones are worn out and falling apart, and it’s not until he’s on a mission that requires cross-dressing that he realizes just how bad they’ve gotten. Having a new, high-quality set would make everything feel a little smoother—and maybe even a little fun.

Cozy hoodies. Between Wayne Enterprises business casual and his Robin gear, Tim rarely gets the chance to wear something soft and comforting. His favorite hoodies are all fraying at the edges, with loose threads on the pockets and fabric that’s stretched too thin. A fresh one would feel like a luxury.

A new game console. Tim is rarely ever not working, but on those rare days off, he realizes he doesn't have much to entertain him that's not work related, that doesn't require him to leave his nest. Plus, it’s a great way to connect with his siblings during low-stakes, playful nights.

Nice coffee cups or tumblers. His caffeine habits are legendary, but the chipped and mismatched mugs he uses don’t exactly scream "Tim Drake." A sleek, stylish tumbler or a high-quality ceramic mug would elevate the most important part of his day.

Random indulgences. Books, stationery, weighted blankets, maybe a nice figuring from his favorite movie, a cool gadget he wouldn’t think to buy himself—little things that spark joy and make him feel cared for, anything he knows his own parents would have never bought for him to help heal his inner child. He's never had the luxury of writing such lists before becoming a Wayne.

Tim doesn’t just take the list seriously for himself; he makes sure to go the extra mile for his family, too. He’s always had a knack for gift-giving, and he loves curating the perfect presents for his siblings. For Dick, it might be a rare vinyl of his favorite band. For Jason, an antique first-edition book he’d mentioned once in passing. For Damian, something handmade and unique, like a custom leather-bound sketchbook or a rare art supply. Tim remembers the little things—the throwaway comments, the subtle preferences—and builds his gifts around them, ensuring every box under the tree feels deeply personal.

But Christmas rolls around… and none of the thought Tim puts into his gifts is reflected in what he receives.

Instead, he gets tech. More tech. External hard drives, cables, chargers—things he already has backups for because, well, he’s Tim. He doesn’t need more, and he didn’t ask for more.

And the worst part? It’s not that they’re bad gifts. It’s that the family assumes they know him so well that they don’t even look at his list.

“Tim’s the tech guy,” they think. “Of course he’d want more tech.”

But he doesn’t.

He’s grateful, of course—Tim is always grateful—but there’s a hollowness that creeps in every year when he unwraps another stack of USB drives and ethernet cables. It’s not about the gifts themselves. It’s about the realization that the people he loves, the people who should know him best, don’t see him the way he wants to be seen.

In a way, it feels painfully familiar. Janet had always made sure his presents as a child reflected her vision for him, not what he actually wanted. New tailored suits instead of the hoodies or tees he longed for. Sleek, professional office stationery to replace his Robin-themed pens and notebooks. Vintage collectibles meant to sit on a shelf, collecting dust, instead of toys he could actually play with. The gifts always came with a message: who he should be, not who he was. And now, even with the bats, the gifts still feel like expectations—like they see him as "the tech guy" rather than Tim, with all his quiet wants and overlooked needs.

So, Tim starts dreading Christmas. Not because he doesn’t love his family or the season, but because it reminds him of how little they seem to notice the little things about him.

And maybe one year, he stops adding personal things to the list altogether. Maybe he starts asking for tech, just to avoid the disappointment.

But deep down, he wishes someone—anyone—would surprise him with a new hoodie, a weighted blanket, or a set of makeup brushes. Something that says, “I see you, Tim. I really see you.”

[tinystepsforward]

autocrattic (more matt shenanigans, not tumblr this time)

I am almost definitely not the right person for this writeup, but I'm closer than most people on here, so here goes! This is all open-source tech drama, and I take my time laying out the context, but the short version is: Matt tried to extort another company, who immediately posted receipts, and now he's refusing to log off again. The long version is... long.

If you don't need software context, scroll down/find the "ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening" heading, or just go read the pink sections. Or look at this PDF.

the background

So. Matt's original Good Idea was starting WordPress with fellow developer Mike Little in 2003, which is free and open-source software (FOSS) that was originally just for blogging, but now powers lots of websites that do other things. In particular, Automattic acquired WooCommerce a long time ago, which is free online store software you can run on WordPress.

FOSS is... interesting. It's a world that ultimately is powered by people who believe deeply that information and resources should be free, but often have massive blind spots (for example, Wikipedia's consistently had issues with bias, since no amount of "anyone can edit" will overcome systemic bias in terms of who has time to edit or is not going to be driven away by the existing contributor culture). As with anything else that people spend thousands of hours doing online, there's drama. As with anything else that's technically free but can be monetized, there are:

Heaps of companies and solo developers who profit off WordPress themes, plugins, hosting, and other services;

Conflicts between volunteer contributors and for-profit contributors;

Annoying founders who get way too much credit for everything the project has become.

the WordPress ecosystem

A project as heavily used as WordPress (some double-digit percentage of the Internet uses WP. I refuse to believe it's the 43% that Matt claims it is, but it's a pretty large chunk) can't survive just on the spare hours of volunteers, especially in an increasingly monetised world where its users demand functional software, are less and less tech or FOSS literate, and its contributors have no fucking time to build things for that userbase.

Matt runs Automattic, which is a privately-traded, for-profit company. The free software is run by the WordPress Foundation, which is technically completely separate (wordpress.org). The main products Automattic offers are WordPress-related: WordPress.com, a host which was designed to be beginner-friendly; Jetpack, a suite of plugins which extend WordPress in a whole bunch of ways that may or may not make sense as one big product; WooCommerce, which I've already mentioned. There's also WordPress VIP, which is the fancy bespoke five-digit-plus option for enterprise customers. And there's Tumblr, if Matt ever succeeds in putting it on WordPress. (Every Tumblr or WordPress dev I know thinks that's fucking ridiculous and impossible. Automattic's hiring for it anyway.)

Automattic devotes a chunk of its employees toward developing Core, which is what people in the WordPress space call WordPress.org, the free software. This is part of an initiative called Five for the Future — 5% of your company's profits off WordPress should go back into making the project better. Many other companies don't do this.

There are lots of other companies in the space. GoDaddy, for example, barely gives back in any way (and also sucks). WP Engine is the company this drama is about. They don't really contribute to Core. They offer relatively expensive WordPress hosting, as well as providing a series of other WordPress-related products like LocalWP (local site development software), Advanced Custom Fields (the easiest way to set up advanced taxonomies and other fields when making new types of posts. If you don't know what this means don't worry about it), etc.

Anyway. Lots of strong personalities. Lots of for-profit companies. Lots of them getting invested in, or bought by, private equity firms.

Matt being Matt, tech being tech

As was said repeatedly when Matt was flipping out about Tumblr, all of the stuff happening at Automattic is pretty normal tech company behaviour. Shit gets worse. People get less for their money. WordPress.com used to be a really good place for people starting out with a website who didn't need "real" WordPress — for $48 a year on the Personal plan, you had really limited features (no plugins or other customisable extensions), but you had a simple website with good SEO that was pretty secure, relatively easy to use, and 24-hour access to Happiness Engineers (HEs for short. Bad job title. This was my job) who could walk you through everything no matter how bad at tech you were. Then Personal plan users got moved from chat to emails only. Emails started being responded to by contractors who didn't know as much as HEs did and certainly didn't get paid half as well. Then came AI, and the mandate for HEs to try to upsell everyone things they didn't necessarily need. (This is the point at which I quit.)

But as was said then as well, most tech CEOs don't publicly get into this kind of shitfight with their users. They're horrid tyrants, but they don't do it this publicly.

ok tony that's enough. tell me what's actually happening

WordCamp US, one of the biggest WordPress industry events of the year, is the backdrop for all this. It just finished.

There are.... a lot of posts by Matt across multiple platforms because, as always, he can't log off. But here's the broad strokes.

Sep 17

Matt publishes a wanky blog post about companies that profit off open source without giving back. It targets a specific company, WP Engine.

Compare the Five For the Future pages from Automattic and WP Engine, two companies that are roughly the same size with revenue in the ballpark of half a billion. These pledges are just a proxy and aren’t perfectly accurate, but as I write this, Automattic has 3,786 hours per week (not even counting me!), and WP Engine has 47 hours. WP Engine has good people, some of whom are listed on that page, but the company is controlled by Silver Lake, a private equity firm with $102 billion in assets under management. Silver Lake doesn’t give a dang about your Open Source ideals. It just wants a return on capital. So it’s at this point that I ask everyone in the WordPress community to vote with your wallet. Who are you giving your money to? Someone who’s going to nourish the ecosystem, or someone who’s going to frack every bit of value out of it until it withers?

(It's worth noting here that Automattic is funded in part by BlackRock, who Wikipedia calls "the world's largest asset manager".)

Sep 20 (WCUS final day)

WP Engine puts out a blog post detailing their contributions to WordPress.

Matt devotes his keynote/closing speech to slamming WP Engine.

He also implies people inside WP Engine are sending him information.

For the people sending me stuff from inside companies, please do not do it on your work device. Use a personal phone, Signal with disappearing messages, etc. I have a bunch of journalists happy to connect you with as well. #wcus — Twitter I know private equity and investors can be brutal (read the book Barbarians at the Gate). Please let me know if any employee faces firing or retaliation for speaking up about their company's participation (or lack thereof) in WordPress. We'll make sure it's a big public deal and that you get support. — Tumblr

Matt also puts out an offer live at WordCamp US:

“If anyone of you gets in trouble for speaking up in favor of WordPress and/or open source, reach out to me. I’ll do my best to help you find a new job.” — source tweet, RTed by Matt

He also puts up a poll asking the community if WP Engine should be allowed back at WordCamps.

Sep 21

Matt writes a blog post on the WordPress.org blog (the official project blog!): WP Engine is not WordPress.

He opens this blog post by claiming his mom was confused and thought WP Engine was official.

The blog post goes on about how WP Engine disabled post revisions (which is a pretty normal thing to do when you need to free up some resources), therefore being not "real" WordPress. (As I said earlier, WordPress.com disables most features for Personal and Premium plans. Or whatever those plans are called, they've been renamed like 12 times in the last few years. But that's a different complaint.)

Sep 22: More bullshit on Twitter. Matt makes a Reddit post on r/Wordpress about WP Engine that promptly gets deleted. Writeups start to come out:

Search Engine Journal: WordPress Co-Founder Mullenweg Sparks Backlash

TechCrunch: Matt Mullenweg calls WP Engine a ‘cancer to WordPress’ and urges community to switch providers

Sep 23 onward

Okay, time zones mean I can't effectively sequence the rest of this.

Matt defends himself on Reddit, casually mentioning that WP Engine is now suing him.

Also here's a decent writeup from someone involved with the community that may be of interest.

WP Engine drops the full PDF of their cease and desist, which includes screenshots of Matt apparently threatening them via text.

Twitter link | Direct PDF link

This PDF includes some truly fucked texts where Matt appears to be trying to get WP Engine to pay him money unless they want him to tell his audience at WCUS that they're evil.

Matt, after saying he's been sued and can't talk about it, hosts a Twitter Space and talks about it for a couple hours.

He also continues to post on Reddit, Twitter, and on the Core contributor Slack.

Here's a comment where he says WP Engine could have avoided this by paying Automattic 8% of their revenue.

Another, 20 hours ago, where he says he's being downvoted by "trolls, probably WPE employees"

At some point, Matt updates the WordPress Foundation trademark policy. I am 90% sure this was him — it's not legalese and makes no fucking sense to single out WP Engine.

Old text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks and you are free to use it in any way you see fit. New text: The abbreviation “WP” is not covered by the WordPress trademarks, but please don’t use it in a way that confuses people. For example, many people think WP Engine is “WordPress Engine” and officially associated with WordPress, which it’s not. They have never once even donated to the WordPress Foundation, despite making billions of revenue on top of WordPress.

Sep 25: Automattic puts up their own legal response.

anyway this fucking sucks

This is bigger than anything Matt's done before. I'm so worried about my friends who're still there. The internal ramifications have... been not great so far, including that Matt's naturally being extra gung-ho about "you're either for me or against me and if you're against me then don't bother working your two weeks".

Despite everything, I like WordPress. (If you dig into this, you'll see plenty of people commenting about blocks or Gutenberg or React other things they hate. Unlike many of the old FOSSheads, I actually also think Gutenberg/the block editor was a good idea, even if it was poorly implemented.)

I think that the original mission — to make it so anyone can spin up a website that's easy enough to use and blog with — is a good thing. I think, despite all the ways being part of FOSS communities since my early teens has led to all kinds of racist, homophobic and sexual harm for me and for many other people, that free and open-source software is important.

So many people were already burning out of the project. Matt has been doing this for so long that those with long memories can recite all the ways he's wrecked shit back a decade or more. Most of us are exhausted and need to make money to live. The world is worse than it ever was.

Social media sucks worse and worse, and this was a world in which people missed old webrings, old blogs, RSS readers, the world where you curated your own whimsical, unpaid corner of the Internet. I started actually actively using my own WordPress blog this year, and I've really enjoyed it.

And people don't want to deal with any of this.

The thing is, Matt's right about one thing: capital is ruining free open-source software. What he's wrong about is everything else: the idea that WordPress.com isn't enshittifying (or confusing) at a much higher rate than WP Engine, the idea that WP Engine or Silver Lake are the only big players in the field, the notion that he's part of the solution and not part of the problem.

But he's started a battle where there are no winners but the lawyers who get paid to duke it out, and all the volunteers who've survived this long in an ecosystem increasingly dominated by big money are giving up and leaving.

Anyway if you got this far, consider donating to someone on gazafunds.com. It'll take much less time than reading this did.

[jack-a-nape]

Week 1 of Trump Presidency 2.0

Elon Musk did a Nazi Salute twice at inauguration although some (mostly Telsa bros from Elon's fan club) claim it was actually a Roman Salute so it's not fascist or racist. Germany and Austria disagree and said personally they would have arrested Musk for doing that. here [edit: Musk has since appeared at a alt-right German campaign saying Germany is too focused on the past and should move past the guilt of Nazi past. He also says he'll save Germany soo] here

Trump signed an executive order stating all of America is female here

Trump pardoned Ross Ulbricht, founder of dark website Silk Road, who was convicted and sentenced to two life sentences, plus 40 years with no parole in May 2015. Ulbricht's charges included money laundering, drug trafficking, conspiring to commit computer hacking, and engaging in the continuation of a criminal enterprise (Prosecutors also say Ulbricht ordered 6 hits including one against a former Silk Road employee although there is no evidence that any hit was successfully carried out). here

Trump issued an executive order undoing many of Biden's orders. Of the 78 orders' signed by Biden that Trump is revoking, the majority are related to climate change, COVID-19, workplace and racial equality, public health accessibility, education and other public programs here

Bank of America CEO states that crypto will now be embraced by banks (side note Trump and Melania have both created crypto currencies) here

Tiktok is back and Trump said he doesn't care about full ownership he just wants 50% here

Trump has placed an executive order withdrawing from the WHO. here

Trump is expected to issue an executive order focused on "reshaping the military" including banning transgender troops here

Trump promises an overhaul of FEMA, including potentially attaching conditions before aid can be granted, or even dismantling FEMA entirely here

Places of worship, schools, and hospitals are no longer safe havens for migrants from ICE. This has already resulted in the mass deportation of thousands of immigrants, including a plane to Colombia that Trump threatened tariffs if the country did not accept. here and here. Additionally deported were 88 individuals who arrived on the 24th. For the Brazilian deportees, teh Brazil Foreign Ministry is demanding an explanation from the Trump administration, citing the administration's "disrespect for human rights" when the deportees were found to have been withheld water, handcuffed together, and denied bathroom access, with some reportedly being beaten and requiring medical attention. here

Trump stated he plans to mass relocate the people of Gaza by sending everyone to Jordan or Egypt to "clean out" the area of Palestinians. Back in May Biden had placed a hold which prevented Israel from receiving several 2,000 pound bombs from the US, Trump released the hold on the 26th saying its been long enough for Israel to not have their bombs.  here

[satansdarlin]

The Valentine dilemma

Tim Drake x nb!reader

Rating: T

Word count: 10k

Warnings: none

Notes: the reader in this is implied to be autistic but it's never stated! Enjoy some soft loving valentines day shenanigans!! <3 comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Tim was at a loss. The Timothy Drake, boy genius, youngest CEO in the country—a man who could solve complex corporate mergers over breakfast and decode encrypted files in his sleep—was completely, utterly at a loss. Because of you.

He sat in his office, the Gotham skyline a gray backdrop behind him, tapping his fingers against his mahogany desk in an erratic rhythm that would have driven his secretary mad if she'd been present. The blue light of his multiple monitors cast shadows across his face as he frowned at his calendar, the approaching February 14th seeming to mock him with its cheerful red highlight.

Timothy had partners before—many partners, if he was being honest. More than he cared to admit. He'd gone through what Dick fondly called his "wild phase" in his early twenties, a time when he was trying to find himself between the weight of Wayne Enterprises and his nighttime activities. All of those partners had made this particular holiday easy. Almost formulaic, really.

What was the problem exactly? Valentine's Day. In the past, the equation had been simple: expensive chocolates (usually Godiva) + roses (red, always red) + reservation at whatever restaurant had earned the latest Michelin star + intimate evening = successful Valentine's Day. It was a proven formula, tested and refined over years of dating experience.

You, however, were proving to be an anomaly in his carefully calculated world. The conversation had started innocently enough, on a quiet Sunday afternoon in your shared apartment.

"What do you wanna do for Valentine's?" Tim asked, not looking up from his computer screen where he was reviewing quarterly projections. His fingers flew across the keyboard as he spoke, multitasking as always. "I just wanna know so I can make reservations."

You were sprawled on the floor of his home office, surrounded by puzzle pieces—one of those impossibly difficult ones with a thousand pieces of just sky and clouds. The sight of you there, completely at ease in his space, made something warm settle in his chest, even as your response made him freeze.

"I didn't have anything planned," you hummed back, squinting at two nearly identical pieces before fitting one perfectly into place. "I figured we weren't doing anything."

That made him frown, his fingers stilling on the keyboard. He swiveled his chair to face you properly, brow furrowed. "Why wouldn't we do anything?"

You looked up at him then, and he was struck, as he often was, by how your analytical mind matched his own—except in moments like these, when it drove him slightly mad.

"It's a commercial holiday celebrating love on a day where hundreds of people have been historically killed," you mused, turning another puzzle piece in your hands. "The commercialization of romance is fascinating from a sociological perspective, but ultimately meaningless. Plus," you added, offering him that small, sincere smile that never failed to make his heart skip, "it's not like I need a day to prove you love me, Timothy. It's not necessary for us to celebrate."

You see what he was dealing with here?

Usually, your blunt and analytical view on things was refreshing—comforting, even. It was one of the things that had drawn him to you in the first place. You could match him theory for theory, debate for debate. You understood his need for logic and reason, never demanded he be more emotional than he was capable of being.

Except when it came to holidays.

Christmas? You'd gotten him an incredibly thoughtful gift last year—a rare first edition of his favorite scientific journal—but when he'd asked what you wanted, you'd just shrugged and said his presence was enough. He'd ended up buying you three different presents just to be safe.

Halloween? You didn't dress up, claiming the modern interpretation of the holiday had strayed too far from its historical roots to be meaningful. Instead, you just put out a bowl of candy outside the apartment door with a neat sign asking trick-or-treaters to take one piece each (they never did).

But Valentine's Day? You didn't even want to celebrate Valentine's Day?

Tim ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up in frustration. He needed backup. This required a tactical approach, possibly a flowchart, and definitely advice from someone who understood the complexity of dating a person who viewed holidays through an anthropological lens rather than an emotional one.

He pulled out his phone, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as he debated who to text. Dick would just tell him to be romantic. Jason would laugh at him. Bruce... no, definitely not Bruce. Maybe Barbara? She'd always been good at finding logical solutions to emotional problems.

As he contemplated his options, you continued with your puzzle, completely unaware of the crisis you'd sparked in your boyfriend's overactive mind. The worst part was, he knew you meant every word. You truly didn't need grand gestures or commercial holidays to feel loved. But Tim Drake had never backed down from a challenge, and he wasn't about to start now.

He just needed to figure out how to make Valentine's Day meaningful to someone who could quote mortality statistics from the St. Valentine's Day Massacre while assembling a puzzle of the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

Tim slipped out of his home office, mumbling something about needing to make a call. A little white lie never hurt anyone, especially when he was trying to crack the code of making his analytically-minded lover appreciate a day dedicated to romance. Once safely in the hallway, he pulled out his phone, took a steadying breath, and dialed a number he probably should have called sooner. Your best friend would know what to do—assuming she didn't roast him mercilessly first.

The line rang twice before Tay picked up. "Hey Timber, whatcha need?"

Tim winced at the nickname but pressed on. "Do you have any clue what (Y/N) would enjoy on Valentine's Day?"

The silence that followed was so complete, Tim pulled the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped. It hadn't.

"Oh boy." Tay's voice was loaded with meaning, none of it encouraging. "Listen, Tim. They aren't exactly... huge on holidays, which I'm sure you know by now. But Valentine's Day? That's probably the one they care about the least."

"I'm aware of that now, Tay," Tim replied, trying not to let his frustration seep into his voice. He leaned against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Alright, alright, don't get pissy now." There was rustling on the other end of the line, followed by what sounded like papers being shuffled. "Give me a moment." More shuffling. "Well... you could go the nuclear option."

"I'm willing." Tim's voice dropped to an almost vulnerable softness, one that made Tay pause in her paper shuffling. It was the voice of a man who had faced down Gotham's worst villains with less trepidation than he felt about potentially disappointing his partner on Valentine's Day.

"You really care about this, don't you?" Tay's tone softened. "Okay, here's what you need to know about (Y/N)..."

And that's how Tim found himself, three days before Valentine's Day, transforming the entire route from your apartment to his safe house, all the way back to Wayne Manor, into an elaborate puzzle. He'd scattered clues throughout the city—some of which he'd actually workshopped a few nights ago while apprehending the Riddler (he was a multitasker, and hey, if you couldn't test your Valentine's Day riddles on an actual riddle-obsessed villain, when could you?).

He was a good boyfriend, damn it. If you wouldn't celebrate a commercial holiday about love, then he'd turn it into something you couldn't resist: an intellectual challenge. Each clue was a carefully crafted combination of historical facts, mathematical equations, and obscure references that would make your analytical mind light up with interest. The final destination? Well, that was the real surprise.

Tim stood in the Manor's library, surveying his handiwork with the same intensity he usually reserved for crime scene analysis. The room had been transformed into what he hoped was the perfect blend of romance and intellectual stimulation. Books on the history of Valentine's Day across different cultures were strategically placed alongside ancient texts about love and partnership. He'd even managed to track down original documents about the St. Valentine's Day Massacre—because nothing said "I love you" quite like historical artifacts about the very tragedy you'd cited as a reason not to celebrate.

Now he just had to hope that turning Valentine's Day into the world's most romantic scavenger hunt would work. Because if it didn't, he was completely out of ideas—and he really didn't want to have to call Tay back for a Plan B.

.

.

.

Valentine's Day arrived crisp and clear, the kind of winter morning where Gotham almost looked clean in the pale sunlight. You were juggling a bag of groceries as you approached the penthouse door, trying to fish your keys out of your pocket without dropping anything. Tim had seemed so deflated when you'd dismissed Valentine's Day, and while you still stood by your position on commercial holidays, you couldn't quite shake the image of his disappointed face from your mind. So you'd decided to compromise—not because it was Valentine's Day, but because you loved him. You were going to surprise him with his favorite meal when he got back from whatever mysterious errand had called him away this morning.

The door swung open, and you nearly dropped your groceries.

Sitting on the kitchen counter, perfectly positioned to catch your eye the moment you walked in, was a pristine white rabbit plush toy. It was propped up against your hardback copy of "Alice in Wonderland"—the antique edition Tim had given you for your birthday, appreciating both your love of literature and historical artifacts. The rabbit held a cream-colored note in its paws, the paper looking suspiciously like the expensive stationery Tim kept in his home office.

You set the groceries down slowly, your analytical mind already whirring to life. The white rabbit was an obvious reference to "Alice in Wonderland," but Tim never did anything without multiple layers of meaning. Was this a literary reference? A historical one? Both?

Your fingers brushed against the note as you picked it up, the paper thick and textured. The handwriting was unmistakably Tim's—precise and measured, even when he was trying to be whimsical:

"'Begin at the beginning,' the King said, very gravely, 'and go on till you come to the end: then stop.' But where is the beginning? Perhaps where time never moves forward... Follow the white rabbit, if you dare. But remember—you're already late for a very important date."

A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. The reference was obvious enough—the quote from "Alice in Wonderland" paired with the white rabbit. But the clue about time never moving forward? That was pure Tim, giving you something to actually puzzle over. Your eyes narrowed as you considered the possibilities, your dinner plans temporarily forgotten in favor of this new intellectual challenge.

Time never moving forward... A clock that's stuck? Too obvious for Tim. Your gaze swept the penthouse, taking in the familiar space with new eyes. That's when it hit you—the antique grandfather clock Tim had insisted on installing in your shared study. The one that hadn't worked since you moved in, its hands permanently frozen at 3:47.

You made your way to the study, the white rabbit clutched in one hand (because somehow you knew you'd need it later). The study was exactly as you'd left it that morning—or almost exactly. The morning sun streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows caught on something that definitely hadn't been there before: a delicate teacup perched precariously on top of the grandfather clock.

"Curiouser and curiouser," you muttered, a smile playing at your lips as you reached for the cup. It was fine bone china, decorated with intricate clockwork patterns in gold leaf. Inside, another note was folded into an origami rabbit (and you couldn't help but wonder how long it had taken Tim to learn that particular skill).

You carefully unfolded it, appreciating the precise creases that had formed the rabbit shape. This note was written in a spiral pattern, forcing you to turn the paper as you read:

"What runs but never walks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps? In Gotham's heart, where time flows ever forward unlike our frozen friend here, seek the next white rabbit where the answer meets the stars."

A river. The riddle's answer was a river, and given the mention of stars... You glanced at the clock again, 3:47. Then at the teacup with its clockwork patterns, and finally at the white rabbit in your hand. A slow grin spread across your face as the pieces clicked into place.

The River's Edge Observatory. It had been one of your first dates with Tim—he'd taken you stargazing there at exactly 3:47 AM, claiming it was the perfect time to see a particular constellation. The observatory sat right on the bank of the Gotham River, and it housed an impressive collection of antique timepieces in addition to its telescopes.

"Well played, Timothy," you murmured, already reaching for your coat. The grocery bag in the kitchen was completely forgotten now—your analytical mind was fully engaged in the puzzle before you, and you had to admit, if only to yourself, that Tim had found perhaps the one way to make Valentine's Day intriguing.

The River's Edge Observatory stood proud against the winter sky, its glass dome reflecting the afternoon sun. As you approached, you couldn't help but remember that first date—how Tim had seemed so nervous until you'd started discussing the mathematical precision required for astronomical calculations, and then he'd lit up like the stars you were watching.

The security guard at the entrance—who looked suspiciously like one of Bruce's more trusted employees—simply nodded and waved you through with a knowing smile. Inside, your footsteps echoed against the marble floors as you made your way to the antique timepiece exhibition. The collection was housed in the west wing, where the afternoon sun created dancing patterns through the carefully preserved clockwork mechanisms.

You found what you were looking for in front of the observatory's prized possession: a 17th-century astronomical clock that tracked not just time, but the movement of celestial bodies. There, seated on the display case, was another white rabbit—this one made of clockwork parts, its gears visible through a transparent casing. In its mechanical paws was a star chart, clearly torn from an antique book (and knowing Tim, it was probably a replica—he respected historical artifacts too much to damage a real one).

The chart showed a constellation you didn't immediately recognize, which was unusual. You squinted at it, then noticed the subtle alterations. Tim had modified the star chart, connecting different stars to create... was that a tea pot? The constellation had been redrawn to show the outline of a Victorian tea service, complete with cups and saucers.

Turning the chart over, you found your next clue written in Tim's precise hand:

"Time for tea? Not quite yet. But where does a detective go when they need to think? When the streets are quiet and the crowds are gone, there's a place where leaves float on midnight thoughts and mysteries steep in porcelain dreams. Find me where we first shared a cup of something stronger than tea, and watch your step—the next rabbit might be mad as a hatter."

You couldn't help but laugh. The Midnight Steep—a twenty-four hour tea shop in the old district that doubled as a coffee house by day. It was where you and Tim had first met outside of his official Wayne Enterprises duties. You'd been there at an ungodly hour, running on coffee and determination while working on your thesis. He'd been there avoiding sleep after a particularly rough patrol (though you hadn't known that part at the time). You'd ended up sharing a pot of their strongest coffee blend and debating the historical accuracy of detective novels until sunrise.

"Going for the sentimental angle, are we?" you mused aloud, tucking both the clockwork rabbit and the star chart into your bag. The sun was starting to set now, painting Gotham in shades of amber and rose. Whatever Tim was planning, he'd clearly put more thought into this than any simple dinner reservation.

As you headed for the exit, you found yourself actually looking forward to what came next—not because it was Valentine's Day, but because Tim had managed to transform a commercial holiday into an intellectual treasure hunt through your shared history. It was exactly the kind of thoughtful, complex gesture that made you fall in love with him in the first place.

The Midnight Steep looked exactly as it had the night you'd met Tim—a narrow Victorian townhouse wedged between two modern buildings, its windows glowing with warm light that spilled onto the darkening street. The brass bell above the door chimed softly as you entered, and the familiar scent of coffee and tea leaves enveloped you.

The owner, Mrs. Chen, looked up from behind the counter and smiled knowingly. "Back corner table," she said before you could ask, her eyes twinkling. "The one where you two first argued about Sherlock Holmes for three hours."

You made your way through the maze of mismatched furniture, each piece carefully chosen from different historical periods—something that had fascinated you during that first conversation with Tim. The back corner table was your favorite, tucked into a cozy alcove beneath a stained glass window. Tonight, it held a complete Victorian tea service, steam rising gently from the pot.

And there, in your usual seat, was another white rabbit. This one was crafted entirely of tea leaves and coffee beans, preserved somehow to hold its shape. It was holding what looked like a small leather-bound journal, the kind detectives used in the noir films you and Tim sometimes watched together.

Opening the journal, you found pages of what appeared to be random notes about various cases—all written in Tim's handwriting, but in different colored inks. Some words were circled, others underlined, and some had been crossed out entirely. It looked like genuine case notes, except... you noticed a pattern in the circled words.

You pulled a pen from your bag and began writing down each circled word in order:

"When shadows fall and heroes rise,

Where masks hide truth and secrets lie,

Seek the place where darkness meets

The highest point above these streets.

Where first you learned my other life,

Where trust was given sharp as knife.

The rabbit waits in shadows deep,

Where gargoyles their eternal watch do keep."

Your breath caught slightly. You knew exactly where this one led—the rooftop of the old Gothic Revival bank building, forty stories above the streets of Gotham. It was where Tim had first revealed his identity as Red Robin to you, after you'd figured out most of it yourself and confronted him with your evidence. He'd been impressed with your deductive reasoning, and instead of denying it, he'd taken you to that rooftop and shown you his world.

You glanced at your watch—the sun had fully set now, and Gotham's lights were starting to twinkle to life. Time to see what other memories Tim had woven into this elaborate puzzle.

As you stood to leave, Mrs. Chen appeared with a to-go cup of your usual order. "He said you might need the caffeine," she explained with a smile. "That boy thinks of everything, doesn't he?"

"He certainly tries," you agreed, accepting the cup gratefully. You carefully packed the tea-leaf rabbit and the journal into your bag alongside the others. Each rabbit was different, each clue more personal than the last. Despite your usual stance on Valentine's Day, you had to admit—Tim was making it very hard to maintain your academic disapproval of the holiday.

The old Gothic Revival bank building was a masterpiece of architecture, its gargoyles casting long shadows in the moonlight. You made your way to the roof access door—which, unsurprisingly, was already unlocked. Tim had clearly planned every detail. The winter wind whipped around you as you emerged onto the rooftop, carrying with it memories of that first night: the mix of fear and exhilaration as Tim showed you his world, the way your entire understanding of him had shifted and deepened in those moments.

The rooftop looked different in the peaceful night air than it had during that adrenaline-filled revelation. String lights had been carefully strung between the gargoyles, creating a soft glow that didn't interfere with the view of Gotham's skyline. And there, perched on the very same ledge where Tim had first removed his mask, sat another white rabbit.

This one was made of metal—but not just any metal. As you picked it up, you recognized the distinctive material: a piece of one of Tim's old bo staffs, carefully crafted into the shape of a rabbit. In its paws was a small USB drive designed to look like a domino mask.

You pulled out your tablet (because of course Tim knew you always carried it), and plugged in the drive. A single video file popped up, timestamped from three nights ago. When you pressed play, you had to stifle a laugh—it was surveillance footage from the Riddler's latest capture, but with audio included. You could hear Tim's voice, slightly distorted through his mask, workshopping Valentine's Day riddles while he fought.

"How's this one?" sound of a punch landing "Where memories are stored in paper and ink," dodge "Where knowledge flows as free as drink," sweep kick "Where first we met, though strangers then," grappling hook shot "Find your next clue with books as your friend."

Even Riddler had paused in their fight to critique his rhyming scheme.

You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. The answer was obvious enough—the university library where you'd first met Tim during a Wayne Enterprises tech demonstration. You'd been the graduate student chosen to present your department's research, and he'd been the young CEO everyone underestimated. You'd ended up in a heated debate about the ethical implications of artificial intelligence that had run so long they'd had to reschedule the rest of the demonstrations.

"Only you would use a fight with Riddler to practice Valentine's Day clues," you murmured, tucking the metal rabbit carefully into your bag with the others. The library was only a few blocks away, and you had a feeling this elaborate trail was nearing its end.

As you made your way back to the roof access door, you paused to look out over the city. The string lights reflected off the gargoyles, making their fierce faces seem almost festive. For someone who claimed to be opposed to Valentine's Day, you were surprisingly eager to see what came next.

The trail Tim left wound through the city like a string of memories: from the university library (where you found a rabbit made of pressed book pages, holding a card catalog entry that led you to the museum), to the Gotham Museum of History (where a rabbit carved from an "authentic" Egyptian artifact—knowing Tim, a perfect replica—directed you to the park), to Robinson Park (where a rabbit made of preserved flowers pointed you toward Wayne Manor).

Each location held significance, each clue more elaborate than the last, until finally you found yourself walking the winding path through Wayne Manor's extensive gardens. The winter air had grown crisp, but strings of lights wound through the bare branches of the trees, creating a canopy of stars beneath the real ones. The path was lined with lanterns, their warm glow leading you deeper into the garden.

You turned a corner and stopped, a small laugh escaping your lips.

There, in the center of the garden, was a scene pulled straight from the pages of "Alice in Wonderland"—but with a distinctly Tim Drake twist. A long table had been set up to mirror the Mad Hatter's tea party illustration from your antique edition, complete with mismatched chairs of various sizes and styles. Dozens of teacups and saucers of different patterns were arranged along its length, some stacked precariously high, others laid out with scientific precision. Steam rose from various teapots, and platters of small sandwiches and pastries filled the spaces between.

Fairy lights were strung above in chaotic patterns that, you suddenly realized, mapped out actual constellations. Historical artifacts related to timekeeping—clearly on loan from the Wayne collection—were artfully arranged among the tea settings. Each place setting had a different book beside it, all first editions of various detective novels and scientific texts you'd discussed with Tim over the years.

And there, at the head of the table, sat Tim himself. He'd dressed for the part in a slightly modern take on Victorian formal wear, complete with a top hat that sat slightly askew on his dark hair. When he saw you, his face lit up with that particular smile he reserved just for you—the one that made him look younger, unburdened by the weight of his various responsibilities.

"You're late for tea," he called out, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But then again, I suppose we're all mad here."

You approached the table slowly, taking in every detail. Each rabbit you'd collected throughout the day had a place at the table, arranged chronologically to tell the story of your relationship. The white plush rabbit that had started it all sat in the chair to Tim's right—your usual spot whenever you dined at the manor.

"This is ridiculous," you said, but you couldn't keep the fondness from your voice. "You went through all this trouble just because I said I didn't want to celebrate Valentine's Day?"

Tim stood, moving around the table to pull out your chair. "Actually, I went through all this trouble because you said Valentine's Day was just a commercial holiday for proving love." He grinned. "So I decided to make it a historical, literary, and intellectual holiday instead. Complete with primary sources, mathematical precision in the constellation mapping, and several riddles that I'm pretty sure even Riddler would approve of."

As you sat down, taking in the elaborate setup that somehow managed to combine every aspect of your shared interests and history, you had to admit defeat. "Well played, Timothy," you conceded, watching as he poured tea from an antique pot. "Though I hope you realize this sets a rather high bar for any future holidays."

"Challenge accepted," he replied without missing a beat, and you could already see the gears turning in his mind. "Though I should warn you—I've already started planning for your birthday. How do you feel about a mystery dinner party based on unsolved historical cases?"

You laughed, reaching for his hand across the table. "Only you would turn my dislike of commercial holidays into an excuse for elaborate intellectual puzzles."

"Is it working?" he asked, and beneath the playful tone was a hint of genuine curiosity.

You looked around at the magical setting he'd created, at all the thoughtful details that spoke not just of love but of deep understanding. "Yes," you admitted. "Though don't expect me to start celebrating Groundhog Day anytime soon."

"Don't worry," Tim's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I already have plans for that involving quantum physics and weather pattern analysis."

You groaned, but squeezed his hand affectionately. Perhaps some holidays weren't so bad after all—especially when they were celebrated in such a distinctly Tim Drake fashion.

As the evening wore on, you shared stories over tea and finger sandwiches, Tim explaining the process behind each rabbit's creation ("Do you know how hard it is to preserve tea leaves in that shape? I had to consult three different botanical experts!") and you teasing him about using actual supervillain encounters as planning sessions ("I still can't believe you made Riddler critique your rhyme scheme").

The fairy lights twinkled overhead, their constellation patterns creating a map of significant moments in your relationship. Tim had thought of everything—even the tea selections told a story, from the strong coffee blend you'd shared on that first late night to the exotic varieties you'd discovered together over the years.

But you had one more surprise up your sleeve.

"Speaking of ridiculous planning," you said casually, reaching into your pocket and pulling out a small flash drive. It was matte black, unmarked except for a tiny red robin etched into its surface.

Tim paused mid-sip, his eyes narrowing slightly at the device. "What's this?" He set his cup down and took the drive, turning it over in his hands with the careful attention he gave to all potential puzzles.

"You didn't seriously think I was going to just settle for second place in a holiday, did you?" You couldn't help but smirk. "Tay is a blabbermouth. You should know this by now. The moment she told me about your call, I knew I had to step up my game."

His eyes lit up with that particular spark that appeared whenever he encountered a new challenge. "Boot it up on your laptop," you suggested, trying not to look too pleased with yourself.

The two of you made your way into the Manor, leaving the magical garden setup behind. The halls were quiet—you suspected Alfred had ensured you'd have privacy for this elaborate Valentine's celebration. Tim led you to his study, a room that somehow managed to be both immaculately organized and completely chaotic, much like Tim's mind itself.

He settled into his chair, pulling his laptop from a drawer, and you positioned yourself behind him, resting your chin on top of his perpetually messy black hair. The familiar scent of his shampoo mixed with coffee and winter air wrapped around you as you watched him insert the drive.

Tim's fingers flew across the keyboard as he accessed the drive's contents, then stopped abruptly. His whole body went still in that way it did when his full attention had been captured by something particularly intriguing. On the screen before him were twelve heavily encrypted files, each one protected by a different type of encryption—some of which he recognized, others that appeared to be entirely custom.

"Your favorite," you murmured into his hair, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. "An actual challenge. Each file is encrypted with a different method, and each one contains a piece of a larger puzzle. Some of the encryption keys are based on our shared history, others will require actual detective work." You paused, unable to resist adding, "I may have consulted with Oracle on a few of them, just to make sure they were up to your standards."

Tim leaned back in his chair, tilting his head to look up at you with a mixture of surprise and delight. "You created an encryption-based scavenger hunt... for my scavenger hunt?"

"Mm-hmm," you confirmed. "Consider it your Valentine's Day gift—twelve puzzles that will actually challenge that big brain of yours. And before you ask, yes, I got Riddler's input on some of the riddles. He was surprisingly helpful once I explained I was trying to one-up you."

Tim's laugh echoed through the study. "I love you," he said, shaking his head. "You know that? Only you would respond to a citywide romantic scavenger hunt by creating an encrypted meta-puzzle."

"Well," you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his head, "only you would turn Valentine's Day into an elaborate historical-literary-detective adventure just because I said I didn't like commercial holidays. I figured it was only fair to return the favor in our own particular style."

Tim was already turning back to his laptop, fingers hovering eagerly over the keyboard. "How long did this take you to set up?"

"Let's just say I haven't been actually working late all those nights this past month." You grinned. "Now, would you like a hint for the first encryption, or are you going to insist on solving it entirely on your own?"

"You know me better than that," Tim said, already pulling up his decryption programs. "But maybe save the hints for breakfast? Something tells me I'm going to be up all night with this."

"I counted on it," you replied, pulling up a second chair. "That's why I brought caffeine reserves. Happy Valentine's Day, Timothy."

The soft tapping of keys filled the study as Tim dove into your puzzle with characteristic enthusiasm, and you settled in to watch him work, content in the knowledge that you'd managed to surprise the World's Second Greatest Detective with a mystery of your own making.

.

.

.

Three days after Valentine's Day, the Batcave had become ground zero for Tim's increasing obsession with your final encrypted file. The previous eleven had fallen to his expertise within the first forty-eight hours—some taking mere minutes, others requiring a few hours of dedicated concentration. But this last one? This last one was driving him to the brink of madness.

"Master Timothy," Alfred observed from the cave's entrance, carefully balancing a tray of coffee and sandwiches, "perhaps a break would—"

"Can't break, Alfred," Tim muttered, pacing back and forth in front of the massive whiteboard he'd commandeered. "So close. Has to mean something."

The riddle was written across the board in Tim's increasingly frantic handwriting, repeated at least six times in different configurations:

'With his partner, Mr. Wright wasn't pleased

Although he would crack a smile whenever they farted and whenever they sneezed,

There was one tiny flaw that took away from their perfection

A small discrepancy that prevented a bigger connection

He thought about telling them, crafted his words, and took aim

Gathered all of his courage just to tell them.... he hated their [blank] [blank]'

"WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!" Tim suddenly exploded, throwing his hands up in frustration. His hair was sticking up in all directions from running his fingers through it repeatedly. "I don't hate anything about (Y/N)! Nothing! Zero things! This has to be wrong!"

Dick, who had been watching from his perch on the computer console with a mixture of amusement and concern, tried to intervene. "Maybe that's not the point of the—"

"No, no, there's something here," Tim cut him off, spinning back to the whiteboard. "The capitalization has to matter. Why is 'Wright' capitalized? Is it a reference to the Wright brothers? But what would aviation have to do with..."

"Drake," Damian's imperious voice cut through Tim's rambling as the youngest Wayne approached the whiteboard, eraser in hand. "I require this space for actual case work—"

Tim literally hissed at him, moving to physically block the board with his body. "Don't you dare! Not until I've figured out this stupid riddle!" His eyes were slightly wild, caffeine and determination creating a dangerous combination. "Touch this board and I will end you, demon spawn."

"Tt." Damian crossed his arms, looking thoroughly unimpressed. "You're being ridiculous. Over a Valentine's Day puzzle, no less."

"It's not just a puzzle," Tim protested, already darting back to the computer to review the previous eleven decoded files for the hundredth time. "It's... it's a challenge. From (Y/N). Who is absolutely brilliant and devious and..." He trailed off, scanning through lines of code with intense concentration.

"Totally played you," Jason finished, appearing from the shadows with his characteristic smirk. "Face it, Replacement. Your better half got you good."

"Not helping, Jason," Dick called out, though he was clearly fighting a smile.

Tim ignored them all, muttering to himself as he cross-referenced the previous solutions. "Nothing in files one through eleven indicates... no pattern in the encryption methods suggests... this is what I get for dating someone who's practically on par with me intellectually. They knew exactly how to..." He stopped suddenly, eyes widening. "Wait. Wright. WRIGHT. Not W-R-I-G-H-T but W-R-I-T-E?"

The cave fell silent as Tim's fingers flew across the keyboard with renewed purpose. Even Damian paused in his attempts to reclaim the whiteboard, watching his brother with reluctant curiosity.

"Write... writing... written?" Tim typed frantically, trying different variations. But the code remained stubbornly locked. Seven letters. He needed seven letters. "That's not it either! What the fuck!" He threw his arms up again, nearly knocking over his fifteenth cup of coffee.

"Language!" Dick chided automatically from his perch, though his grin suggested he was enjoying his little brother's descent into madness far too much.

A cheerful chime from the computer drew everyone's attention. A small animated version of you appeared in the corner of the screen—a chibi character complete with big eyes and an exaggerated smirk. It danced across his code, holding a sign that read "Need a hint? ♡"

Tim glared at the tiny digital version of you. "Away with you, foul temptress," he grumbled, jabbing at the keyboard to dismiss the hint system. The chibi just smiled wider and did a little spin.

"I can't believe they programmed a hint system with a chibi avatar," Jason snickered, leaning over Tim's shoulder to watch the animation. "That's both adorable and diabolical."

"Master Timothy," Alfred interjected, setting down a fresh cup of coffee and pointedly removing the empty ones, "perhaps if you accepted the hint—"

"No!" Tim protested, running both hands through his already chaotic hair. "No hints. I can figure this out. I have to figure this out. They spent a month creating this puzzle, I can't just—" He waved his hands frantically at the dancing chibi, which was now holding a sign that read "Your caffeine levels suggest you might need help! (◕‿◕✿)"

Damian, who had been watching this display with growing disdain, finally spoke up. "Drake, your pride is making you stupid. More stupid than usual, that is."

"Not helping, demon spawn," Tim muttered, but his eyes never left the screen. The chibi had started doing backflips across his code, each flip leaving a trail of sparkles that suspiciously highlighted certain letters in his previous attempts.

"Okay, okay, let me see this thing," Dick finally hopped down from his perch, moving to stand behind Tim. "Fresh eyes might help. The riddle's about someone named Wright—or write—who doesn't like something about their partner that's seven letters long..."

"Been there, tried that," Tim groaned, but shifted to let Dick see the screen better. "I've tried every seven-letter word I could think of that could possibly relate to our relationship."

Jason, now fully invested despite his earlier teasing, joined them at the computer. "What about their job? Their hobbies? Their—"

"Everything!" Tim threw his hands up. "I've tried everything! Their degree, their job, their favorite book genre, their coffee order—"

"Their coffee order isn't seven letters, Drake," Damian pointed out, having abandoned all pretense of not being interested.

"I KNOW THAT NOW!"

The chibi on screen did a particularly elaborate twirl, and a new hint bubble appeared: 'if seven letters are too hard try thinking of eight~♡♡'

"Eight?" all four brothers said in unison.

"But the blanks in the riddle..." Dick started.

"Clearly indicate two words..." Jason continued.

"Which should total seven letters..." Tim finished, slumping in his chair.

"Tt. You're all incompetent," Damian declared, shoving his way to the keyboard. He started typing rapidly, trying various eight-letter combinations.

Alfred, who had been quietly observing this whole scene, merely raised an eyebrow as he collected another round of empty coffee cups. "Perhaps, young masters, you might consider—"

"Not now, Alfred!" they chorused, all hunched over the keyboard as the chibi continued its merry dance across their failed attempts.

Even Bruce, who had entered the cave somewhere between Tim's fifteenth and sixteenth coffee, found himself drawn into the puzzle. He stood behind his sons, cowl pushed back, frowning at the riddle on the whiteboard.

"Have you considered—" he began.

"Yes," all four boys cut him off.

"What about—"

"Tried it."

"Maybe it's—"

"Nope."

The chibi version of you was now doing the macarena, trailing hearts and question marks in its wake. A new speech bubble appeared: 'Wow, the whole family's here! Still not getting warmer though! ╮(︶▽︶)╭'

"They're enjoying this way too much," Tim grumbled, but there was unmistakable fondness in his voice. "You all realize they're probably watching this through the cave's security feed, right?"

Four heads snapped up to look at the nearest camera. The chibi did a cheerful wave.

The sound of feminine giggling drew everyone's attention to the cave entrance. Cass and Stephanie stood there, both clearly trying—and failing—to maintain straight faces. Stephanie had her phone out, obviously recording the scene before her.

"Oh, don't mind us," Stephanie managed between poorly suppressed snickers. "Please, continue. This is gold."

Tim's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You know something."

Cass's smile was enigmatic as ever, but there was definite amusement in her eyes. She signed quickly, 'It's obvious.'

"If it's so obvious, care to share with the class?" Jason asked, crossing his arms.

Stephanie lost it completely then, doubling over with laughter. "Oh no, no way. (Y/N) swore us to secrecy. They said, and I quote, 'Let them suffer.'"

"They did well," Cass nodded approvingly, watching as the chibi on screen started doing the robot dance.

"Et tu, Cass?" Tim groaned, slumping further in his chair. "I thought you loved me."

"I do," Cass signed, her smile growing. "That's why this is funny."

A new hint bubble appeared above the dancing chibi: 'The girls know what's up! (｡♥‿♥｡)'

"Wait," Dick straightened up. "If Steph and Cass know..."

"Then it has to be something obvious we're all missing," Bruce finished, his detective instincts kicking in.

"Or something only people who weren't raised by the World's Greatest Detective would think of," Stephanie suggested innocently, still recording.

Tim squinted at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing at all," Stephanie sing-songed, moving to perch on one of the cave's workbenches. "Just that sometimes the simplest answer is the right one. But please, keep trying to decrypt it like it's a message from the League of Assassins."

"I hate all of you," Tim declared, turning back to the computer. The chibi had started a conga line with multiple copies of itself across his screen.

'Simple is best! ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ' the hint bubble agreed.

The chibi suddenly stopped its conga line, popping up in the center of the screen with an exaggerated thinking pose. A new message bubble appeared:

'Not a hint don't worry! But if I was me I would have asked the people I knew wouldn't get involved in this for help or for something else. You've sorted out two. The last remains a mystery but hey are there. Always watching. ;P'

Tim's eyes widened. "People who wouldn't get involved... sorted out two..."

"Oh my god," Stephanie whispered to Cass, "I think he's finally getting it."

"Slow," Cass signed back with an affectionate smile.

"Wait," Dick leaned forward, squinting at the screen. "Always watching?"

"The cameras?" Jason suggested, glancing up at the cave's security system.

"No, no," Tim was muttering, pulling up the previous eleven decoded files again. "It's something about people who wouldn't get involved... who have we talked to about this? Oracle helped with some of the encryption, Riddler gave input on the riddles..."

"Don't forget Alfred's obvious disapproval of your caffeine intake," Damian pointed out dryly.

The chibi started doing backflips again, leaving a trail of sparkles that seemed to be trying to direct their attention somewhere specific. Tim was too focused on his screen to notice, but Bruce's eyes narrowed as he followed the pattern of the sparkles.

"Tim," Bruce started, but Stephanie's barely contained laughter cut him off.

"No, no, let him figure it out," she insisted, still recording. "This is just getting good."

Tim suddenly went very still, the kind of stillness that usually preceded a major breakthrough. His eyes slowly moved from the screen to where Alfred stood, calmly arranging a fresh pot of coffee on a nearby table.

"The monthly lunches," Tim breathed out. "You and (Y/N) have monthly lunches together."

Alfred's expression remained perfectly neutral, but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. "Indeed, Master Timothy. Your partner and I do enjoy our regular discussions about literature, history, and..." he paused meaningfully, "various other topics."

The chibi on screen started doing cartwheels of excitement.

"You know the answer," Tim accused, spinning his chair to face Alfred fully. "You've known this whole time!"

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Master Timothy," Alfred replied, but his eyes were twinkling. "Though I must say, your partner's creativity with encryption methods is quite impressive. Almost as impressive as their ability to maintain composure during our last lunch while you were in the corner booth trying to decode the ninth file."

"I KNEW I saw them that day!" Tim exclaimed, jumping up from his chair. "You two were in on this together!"

"Tt. Of course Pennyworth knows," Damian crossed his arms. "They probably planned half of this over their pretentious tea meetings."

"Earl Grey is hardly pretentious, Master Damian," Alfred corrected mildly. "Though I must say, the Ceylon blend we had while discussing the final riddle was particularly excellent."

The chibi was now doing a victory dance, complete with tiny fireworks effects.

'Alfred appreciation squad! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶' the hint bubble proclaimed.

"Alfred," Tim tried, putting on his best pleading expression. "My most favorite person in this entire family..."

"I believe, Master Timothy," Alfred cut him off smoothly, "that accepting a hint at this point would rather defeat the purpose of your partner's carefully crafted puzzle." He began gathering empty coffee cups onto his tray. "Though I will say, sometimes the answer is rather closer than one might think."

With that cryptic statement, Alfred turned and headed for the cave steps, leaving behind a chorus of groans and, in Tim's case, a dramatic slump back into his chair.

"That's it," Jason announced, shoving Tim's chair aside with one hand. "I can't take this anymore."

"Jason, no—!" Tim lunged for the keyboard, but he was too late.

Jason clicked the hint button with excessive force, prompting the chibi to do an excited spin before presenting a new message bubble:

'There's a spelling error in the Riddle. One letter should not be where it is. One letter. One.'

"YOU TRAITOR!" Tim shoved Jason away from the computer, but the damage was done. The chibi was now doing an enthusiastic spelling bee dance, complete with tiny letter blocks floating around it.

"You're welcome," Jason smirked, dodging Tim's attempt to strangle him. "Now maybe we can all go home sometime this year."

"I had it under control!"

"You really didn't," Dick chimed in, already scanning the riddle again with new eyes. "Okay, so one letter is wrong..."

"But which one?" Bruce muttered, moving closer to the whiteboard.

Stephanie was practically vibrating with contained laughter at this point, while Cass simply smiled her knowing smile.

The chibi started juggling alphabet blocks, occasionally dropping one with an exaggerated 'oops!' expression.

Tim had returned to the whiteboard, scanning each line with intense concentration. "One letter... one wrong letter... but which..."

"Perhaps," Damian suggested with exaggerated patience, "you should focus on the words that matter most in the riddle."

"All the words matter!" Tim protested, but his eyes were fixed on the final line. "Gathered all of his courage just to tell them.... he hated their [blank] [blank]"

Dick had gone oddly quiet, his eyes darting between the riddle and Tim's increasingly frantic expression. Then, without warning, he reached for the eraser.

"Dick, I swear to god if you—" Tim started, but froze as Dick deliberately erased just the 'W' in 'Mr. Wright.'

The cave went silent.

The chibi on screen started doing enthusiastic cheerleader moves with tiny pom-poms.

"Mr... Right," Tim said slowly, then louder, "Mr. RIGHT!"

"FINALLY!" Stephanie threw her hands up, nearly dropping her phone. "I thought we were going to be here until next Valentine's Day!"

Cass was signing rapidly, 'Now he sees.'

"Wait," Jason leaned forward, a grin spreading across his face. "If it's Mr. Right, and the blanks need eight letters total..."

Tim was already typing frantically. "Last name... last name... what's wrong with their last name?" His fingers paused over the keyboard. "Eight letters..."

The chibi had produced a tiny banner that read 'So close! SO CLOSE!'

Bruce, who had been watching this entire scene unfold with what might have been amusement (it was sometimes hard to tell with him), finally spoke up. "Tim, what's your last name?"

"That doesn't make sense," Tim huffed in frustration, "my last name is five letters. D-R-A-K-E." He wrote it out on the whiteboard, underlining each letter for emphasis.

The chibi suddenly produced a tiny professor's cap and glasses, pulling down a mathematical chart. A new equation appeared:

'5+7=8!! And you've only figured out you need seven letters. Not how many characters you need. ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ'

Stephanie was practically crying with laughter at this point. "Oh my god, this is the best thing I've ever recorded. The look on his face right now..."

"Wait," Dick moved closer to the whiteboard, looking between the equation and Tim's written name. "Five plus seven equals eight... that's not..."

"Mathematics appears to have escaped all of you," Damian sneered, though he was eyeing the equation with growing interest.

"Shut up, demon spawn, I'm thinking," Tim muttered, staring at his last name on the board. "Five letters plus seven letters somehow equals eight... but that's not mathematically possible unless..."

The chibi had started drawing something in the air with a sparkly pen, but kept erasing it before anyone could read it properly.

Jason, who had been unusually quiet, suddenly straightened up. "Holy shit," he whispered, then started laughing. "Holy shit, replacement, you're an idiot."

"What? What am I missing?" Tim spun to face him, but Jason just shook his head, now laughing too hard to speak.

Then Jason straightened up, addressing the chibi directly. "Seven letters, right?"

The chibi nodded enthusiastically, releasing tiny explosions of confetti.

"And I'm guessing eight characters?"

More vigorous nodding, the chibi now practically bouncing with excitement.

"So," Jason's grin grew wider, "there's a space somewhere. The password isn't actually an answer, is it? It's a question."

The chibi erupted into a full celebration mode, throwing confetti everywhere and doing backflips while tiny fireworks exploded across the screen.

"A question?" Tim repeated slowly, then his eyes went wide. "A question... about my last name... seven letters but eight characters..."

Stephanie had given up trying to hold the phone steady, she was laughing so hard. "Oh my god, he's actually getting it."

"Finally," Cass signed, smiling broadly.

"Drake," Damian said with exaggerated patience, "what might someone ask about your last name that would require seven letters and a space?"

Dick's face split into a huge grin as he caught on. "Oh. Oh that's good. That's really good."

Bruce had actually cracked a smile, which in Bruce-terms was practically rolling on the floor laughing.

Tim stared at his last name written on the whiteboard, then at the riddle about Mr. Right, then back at his name. The chibi was now holding up a tiny sign with a question mark on it, bouncing it up and down suggestively.

Suddenly, Tim shoved everyone away from the computer with such force that Jason nearly toppled into Dick. His fingers flew across the keyboard: M-A-R-R-Y-M-E.

The file lock clicked open with a satisfying digital chime. The chibi threw up its tiny arms in victory before dissolving into a shower of hearts.

The screen filled with photos, cycling through like a slideshow: Tim and you in the university library during that first heated AI debate, both of you gesturing passionately; a candid shot from the coffee shop where you'd first really talked, Tim's eyes bright with caffeine and interest as you explained your thesis; the two of you at a Wayne gala, you rolling your eyes at something while Tim tried not to laugh; a series of pictures from various puzzle nights and study sessions that had slowly transformed into dates; the first picture of you both after Tim revealed his identity as Red Robin, you looking utterly unfazed while pointing out the flaws in his attempt to throw you off the trail; countless moments of your shared life together, each one flowing into the next.

Then the photos faded into video footage. It showed Tim from just the night before, sprawled across his bed, completely passed out from his puzzle-solving attempts. He was drooling slightly on his pillow, his hair a chaotic mess, looking absolutely nothing like the composed CEO he presented to the world.

You appeared in frame, pressing a finger to your lips in a conspiratorial gesture to the camera. In your other hand was a red velvet box. You tiptoed to Tim's jacket—the same one currently thrown over the back of his chair in the cave—and carefully slipped a golden band into the pocket.

The video faded to black, and text appeared on screen:

'This one is a click choice: Yes or No'

The cave had gone completely silent. Even Stephanie had stopped laughing, her phone still recording but forgotten in her hand.

Tim slowly reached for his jacket, his hand shaking slightly as it dipped into the pocket. The ring caught the cave's lighting as he pulled it out, simple and elegant and perfectly sized for his finger.

The chibi reappeared on screen, now wearing a tiny tuxedo and holding what appeared to be wedding bells, waiting patiently for input.

Tim's hand was trembling slightly as he slipped the ring onto his finger—a perfect fit. Through vision that was definitely not blurring with tears, he clicked 'Yes.'

The screen immediately filled with your face, beaming with triumphant joy. "I know you love those 'how it's made' videos so... here's mine! This actually has taken me the better part of a year to make. It is shockingly difficult to write code while having emotional moments, so I had a little help." Your grin turned mischievous. "Actually, everyone around you had a part. Oh yeah. They are all traitors who have been lying about not knowing the answer."

Tim spun in his chair to face his family, who were all wearing varying degrees of satisfied smiles.

"Jason helped pick out the riddles with me," you continued, and Jason gave an exaggerated bow. "The Mr. Wright one was his favorite."

"Because it was genius," Jason confirmed, looking far too pleased with himself.

"Dick did distraction on you, kept you busy these last few months."

"All those 'emergency' training sessions?" Dick grinned. "Not so emergency after all."

"Damian did the part of figuring out your ring size, without cutting off your finger—it was a hard talk down."

"Tt. Your hands move too much when you sleep, Drake," Damian commented, though he looked slightly proud.

"Stephanie and Cass helped be moral support."

"And recorded everything for posterity!" Stephanie added, still filming.

"And of course," your voice softened slightly, "I had to ask Bruce and Alfred both for permission."

Bruce's hand came to rest on Tim's shoulder, squeezing gently. Alfred, who had mysteriously reappeared in the cave, was definitely dabbing at his eyes with a handkerchief.

"I even got Conner and Bart to help out with keeping you later at boys nights so I could finish up the code on these."

Tim let out a watery laugh. "That's why they kept insisting on 'one more round' of everything?"

The chibi had returned, now joined by tiny digital versions of the entire family, all doing a celebration dance.

"You all knew," Tim accused, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "This entire time, you all knew."

"Master Timothy," Alfred said warmly, "some mysteries are worth waiting to solve."

The screen flickered, and your voice took on a more serious tone. "Now that little me has gotten her celebration over with, I'm sure congratulations can wait for the moment. I ask that everyone other than Tim leave the room. Including the cameras. As much as blackmail sounds funny and all, this part is the important one and it's private."

Your leg had started bouncing in the video—a nervous tell Tim knew well. The family exchanged knowing looks and began filing out. Stephanie finally lowered her phone, giving Tim a quick kiss on the cheek before following the others. Bruce was the last to leave, pausing only to squeeze Tim's shoulder once more before heading up the cave steps.

The cameras' red lights blinked off one by one.

Only then did you smile softly at the camera, and Tim's heart caught at the vulnerability in your expression. "I've never been one to be sugary. Pet names are not my thing, I'm not one for flowers or chocolates, I'm not a normal partner and you made me feel okay in that and seen." You paused, taking a steadying breath. "But if you're seeing this part of the video, it means you clicked yes. I had to prerecord this otherwise I'd be a crying mess right now. Which is less than needed for this."

Tim leaned forward in his chair, his new ring catching the light as he reached out to touch the screen where your face was displayed. The cave was completely silent now except for your voice and the soft hum of the computer.

You took a deep inhale before letting it out slowly, your eyes fixed on the camera as if you could see Tim watching. "The times we have spent together over the years have been some of the best moments of my life. From the camping trip that ended in a spider-infested tent to late night binge sessions of that stupid detective show that's not even in English that we both hate to love."

A soft laugh escaped Tim as he remembered that camping trip—how you'd maintained your analytical calm even while helping him evacuate the tent, cataloging each spider species you encountered.

"You have never once made me feel odd or unloved and I hope I made you feel the same even if it's difficult for me to articulate." Your voice grew softer, more intense. "You are my person and I don't put that lightly. In a universe filled with millions upon millions of atoms, I'm so glad that mine have gotten to know yours."

Tim's vision blurred again, but he didn't try to wipe away the tears this time.

"And although I don't believe in marriage as I told you when we first met," you continued with a slight smile, "I'd rather die of radiation poisoning from sleeping next to you for the rest of our lives than never have gotten the opportunity." Your own eyes were getting watery now, despite your earlier claim about pre-recording to avoid crying. "You are my missing piece, Timothy. I love you. And I'm so excited to see where this new ring-sized door leads."

The chibi appeared one final time, offering a tiny tissue to the screen before fading away with a gentle shower of hearts.

Tim sat in the quiet of the cave, his finger tracing the band of his ring, a smile spreading across his face despite the tears. Trust you to propose with encrypted files, riddles, and a speech that referenced both quantum physics and your shared hatred of pretentious foreign detective shows.

He reached for his phone, knowing exactly where you'd be waiting.

"Hi future husband," you answered on the first ring, making Tim bark out a watery laugh.

"You. Suck. You know that?" He responded, voice thick with emotion. "You beat me to the punch!"

"Huh?"

"Check my bedside drawer."

There was a pause, then the sound of movement on your end. Tim could perfectly picture you crossing your shared bedroom to his side of the bed. The drawer squeaked slightly as you opened it—he'd been meaning to fix that.

Then silence.

"Timothy Jackson Drake," your voice came back, slightly strangled. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Third drawer back, behind my spare laptop charger," Tim confirmed, unable to keep the grin off his face despite his tears. "I've been carrying it around for two months trying to figure out the perfect way to ask. I had this whole plan involving that quantum physics conference next month and the observatory and—" He broke off with a laugh. "And you just completely outmaneuvered me with probably the most elaborate proposal in history."

The sound of a box opening came through the phone, followed by your sharp intake of breath. "You got me a titanium ring."

"With a carbon fiber inlay," Tim added. "Because you said traditional jewelry metals weren't practical for someone who works with chemicals regularly. I had it custom made to be acid-resistant."

A choked laugh came through the phone. "We really are perfect for each other, aren't we?"

"Well," Tim smiled, looking down at his own ring, "I did just click 'yes' to spending the rest of my life with you, so I'd say so." He paused, then added, "Though I have to know—what would the chibi have done if I'd clicked 'no'?"

"Bold of you to assume I programmed that as an option," you replied, and Tim could hear your smile. "The 'no' button was just for show. It would have rick-rolled you and then asked again."

Tim laughed out loud, the sound echoing through the empty cave. "I love you so much. You know that?"

"I love you too," you replied softly. "Now come home so I can see how that ring looks on you in person. And maybe you can tell me more about this quantum physics conference proposal plan that I completely derailed."

"On my way," Tim said, already heading for his motorcycle. Then he paused. "Wait—do we have to tell the family they can come back into the cave now, or..."

"Oh, they've definitely been watching on the backup cameras that I didn't have access to shut off," you said matter-of-factly. "Hi everyone! Sorry for the emotional display!"

Distant cheering could be heard from the upper levels of the cave, confirming your theory.

"Typical," Tim sighed fondly, but he couldn't stop smiling. "See you in ten minutes?"

"Make it five," you countered. "I think we have some celebrating to do before Alfred inevitably appears with engagement cake."

"It's probably already baking," Tim agreed, swinging onto his bike. "Love you, future spouse."

Your laugh was the last thing he heard before ending the call, and it carried him all the way home.

.

.

.

[dsoqueerious]

i feel bad posting two edits in a row instead of any artwork but i'm super proud with how these came out :) you can see the rest of my edits on my tiktok account (also: dsoqueerious) but i don't recommend the ones before Art is Dead, they're a bit janky - maybe if you're brave my rambling and explanations under the cut + pinch of character analysis ... maybe more like a ladleful

with Art is Dead i wanted to capture jeremiah's relationship with his brother and, on the flipside, bruce both are heavily tainted with obsession, he definitely harbours a lot of hatred for jerome but i think there is quintessentially some quite heavy jealousy there? jeremiah is so terribly repressed before the gas, it's the insanity that frees him, sort of remakes him in jerome's image (or, arguably, returns him to how he should be or truly was according to his brother) jerome does what he wants, he's an unstoppable force (until he is stopped, but even then he lives on through jeremiah) meanwhile jeremiah has been constrained all his life under various authority figures - at haly's it was lila and his uncle, at ignatius he had the wildes and other guardians it's his fear of jerome (and long-held intention to trap him) that feeds into a life a little closer to independence, he is needed by meyer and hayes, he gets to choose what projects he works on and approach them through ecco - even when working on wayne plaza at such a young age, thomas wayne is the one to ask after him, pursuing his involvement, there is an opportunity for yes or no but it's also what keeps him held underground, i can only imagine the resentment paired with the constant reminder his own face provides he surely believes himself more civilised than jerome, a thought which lends him quite a clear sense of superiority, but he will never be as free as him - which was what i was trying to get across? succeeding? failing? who knows the second half is all bruce bruce bruce, who is his... habit it will always fascinate me that for a man so paranoid and so keenly aware of the danger jerome poses - jeremiah immediately folds to bruce, all it took was one earnest speech and he was pulling his blazer on this, plus his reaction to the gift from wayne enterprises - i assume this was vetted by ecco beforehand which is why it's in the bunker in the first place - and complete lack of distrust towards it ... despite jerome's foreshadowing ... it's safe to say jeremiah attached himself fairly immediately to bruce heavily in part because of his seclusion, i imagine, but also their shared struggles over jerome - they both feel an immense sense of responsibility over him and this definite need for control bruce had to involve himself on ground zero the second jerome resurfaced and jeremiah was prepared to trap his brother indefinitely in place of arkham or blackgate in his bunker, as his ultimate project also agreeing to bankroll the generator project and house them at wayne enterprises is fairly immediate for bruce too, now that sense of responsibility extends to encapsulate jeremiah, i'm sure it wasn't just out of compassion or interest (though both play their own role) but also the need to be involved - to be his own surveillance and control what he can they both have their masks (or makeup, used here) bruce's slips quite severely during ace chemicals, and coming out of the end of jeremiah's self-appointed mission to unveil the truth of him, he isn't the same man as selina says, 'bruce, your ego' when it comes to him forcing himself into the gcpd's hunt for jerome - he has always seen himself as a superior authority: if the gcpd can't find my parents' killer, i can / private school can't teach me, i will teach myself / constantly claiming to know better than alfred or jim / fully taking over his position on the board as a child / i have to catch jerome before they do this is usually laced with some kind of guilt, but him injecting himself into jeremiah's work is almost preparatory - just like jeremiah's contingency plans, they are both methodical they both demand/secure each-other's attention in different ways, bruce's manner is decidedly more background and jeremiah's is literally shouting it in his face with 50 bombs exploding behind him that's enough out of me! thank you very much if you've read any of this, i feel like i just blacked out and then came to with a great big wall of text

[ent-fandom-events]

Enterprise Ship Week 2025

Welcome to Enterprise Ship Week 2025!

This event is designed for creators to create outside their usual shipping comfort zones, a challenge to some, but mostly just something fun to do. More information and image transcript under the cut!

GENERAL INFORMATION:

This event is designed as follows: you have been given 7 days and 5 ships, plus 2 "free for all" spaces. You can create anything to do with these ships, starting from the date this has been posted (you do not have to start writing day of, but you can if you want an extra challenge!). All forms of creation are allowed. This includes fanfiction, fanart, gif making, edits, and any other creative means you can think of.

The tag used on tumblr is #ent ship week 2025. There is no ao3 tag or collection, as I am still gauging interest and participation.

You can participate as little or as much as you want. Do all the days, do just one day, doesn't matter. The event is designed to be a challenge and push people outside their comfort zones, but that isn't rigidly enforced, and we want people to have fun over anything else.

Prompts Transcript:

Satoweather Saturday

Shrancher Sunday

Malcoshi Monday

Tripol Tuesday

Rarepair Wednesday

Tuckerreed Thursday

Free Space Friday

FAQ:

Why did you choose those ships?

I just chose ones I thought were common and that matched up to the days. I also tried to keep an even spread across characters as much as I could.

What's "Rarepair Wednesday"?

That one is because I couldn't think of any ENT ships that began with W lmao. That day, you can choose any rarepair/rarethrouple/etc. (any ship in the fandom with under 100 fics) and create something for them.

What's "Free Space Friday"?

You can create for any ship there! It can be one that was in a previous day, or an entirely new one that wasn't mentioned.

Do I have to create something within the exact timeframe?

Not at all! If you've come across this event a month down the line and want to participate, that is more than welcome.

Are there any restrictions?

Not really. There is no word minimum requirement or anything. All I ask is that NSFW and suggestive themes be tagged and rated appropriately.

Any other questions? Send an ask!

[open-hearth-rpg]

#RPGCovers Week Ten Rolemaster series (1985 on) Angus McBride

In my youth, there was a cohort of players about five years older than me, some of them part of my sister’s crew and others just among the rabble at the game shop. There was a certain kind of “elitism” to what folks played. When Champions came along, Villains & Vigilantes became passe for example. Rolemaster, in its original incarnation of heavy stock parchment booklets and glossy magazine-style supplements, was one of those. It was the fantasy rpg the cool, older kids played. 

And throughout high school it was what I gravitated towards, giving up on AD&D entirely for the more rarified air of RM (ironically paired with Harn, but that’s another story). Rolemaster at that point was a weird set of printings and editions, a mess which looked incoherent and made it hard to tell folks exactly what they actually needed to buy.

Then in 1985 Iron Crown Enterprises consolidated everything into a set of books with a standard cover design and unified art. These became the standard for years (if you ignore the layout and design of the weird Rolemaster Companions). What really pull them together, beyond the book design, was McBride. 

Angus McBride had already been doing Middle Earth RPG covers for years. They were all great. Before that he’d been an illustrator for various Osprey Men-at-Arms series, bridging that gap between wargaming grognards and role-players. These RM were great because we got to see repeating, iconic characters– kind of a first I think. I don’t know that we’d had other games with recurring figures and an implied story. 

The first three books: Character Law & Campaign Law, Arms Law & Claw Law, and Spell Law used them effectively. Plus you could now buy a box that had all of them bundled together. Ten years later, ICE would reuse these images with a new cover design for their Rolemaster Standard System, with a few new books with new illustrations by McBride that sort of fit in with the existing story and sort of didn’t make any sense (see Creatures & Monsters). But as Rolemaster began to crash and go through multiple editions and changes, they lost control of their cover designs, leading to an absolute chaos that, ironically, felt more like first edition’s mess.

[nightwingbb]

What do you think Jon and Damian would pick for their college majors? Who’s more stressed out at the end of the semester?

thank you for this question, anon, because i have strong opinions on this!! strong to the point that in all of the college au's that i've written (or am writing 👀) damian and jon's majors are always the same, even if it's not mentioned and it just lives rent free in my head

damian is an animal science major with a pre-vet concentration. does it make more sense canonically that damian would probably work for and/or take over wayne enterprises and should therefore be majoring in business? yes. but he will forever be an animal science major (and eventually a veterinarian) in my head. "oh, but nightwingbb, he never shows any interest in being a vet, he just likes animals!" and to that i say one of my best friends from college hated science but loved animals, so she majored in animal science and now she loves her job as a vet tech so HA

jon is an education major. i know that in and out of canon, he's usually written as a journalism major, but i didn't want to make him a copy/paste of clark. plus, i was a journalism major in college, and i honestly couldn't see jon enjoying the major. since news is all digitized now, half of the required major courses aren't even on journalism anymore. i learned video editing, social media management, photoshop, basic web coding, etc. and i just couldn't imagine jon getting as into that as i am. after deciding he would Not be a journalism major, i actually struggled with what jon's major would be for a while when i first started writing navigating life back in 2020. i even posed the question here on tumblr asking for ideas because i was simply at a loss. then @liameowlia pointed out that jon is good with people, has a strong will to help, and radiates empathy and suggested i go from there. that, plus a fanfiction that i cannot remember ANYTHING about aside from the fact that it depicted jon as a teacher (literally don't even remember what the story was), led me to education major jon <3

apologies for the rant, anon, i know you probably didn't want a whole dissertation on WHY i chose these majors for the boys, but to answer your next question:

jon is definitely waaayy more stressed than damian come end of semester finals seasons. damian is haughty and overly confident and probably feels like if he studies for even just a few minutes, there's literally no way in hell that he won't pass his finals. not to mention that he's a classic rich kid who doesn't have that "if i have to retake this class, it'll cost me $3,000" stress hanging over his head lol

[carriesthewind]

Thanks so much for your writeup of the 2 Stupid 2 Sanction case. OMG.

As a reference librarian in a special library (i.e. not an academic or public library), the database access of this case has been -fascinating- to me. I regularly struggle with the challenge of how to provide access to materials to my patrons, when we have limited access and an even more limited budget. This case is an absolutely TEXTBOOK in what NOT to do.

Regarding the apparently wonky access to different categories of cases in Fastcase, I can provide a little professional insight, as I have spent FAR too many hours trying to decipher database providers' pricing guidelines. (But, DISCLAIMER: I am not a law librarian and hold my colleagues who are in absolute awe. So I don't have any direct experience with the database in question, just 15+ years of trying to wrangle these kinds of databases in general.)

It is conceivable that Fastcase could be setup in such a way that Schwartz et al. had access to ALL of the 2nd Circuit cases and some of the 5th Circuit cases. Research databases are nearly always broken out into "collections" and you can often pick and choose which collections you have access to, depending on how much money you fork over. I have absolutely seen instances where content I expected to be in one such collection was actually found in another (looking at you, Oxford Scholarly Editions…). This can happen for a variety of reasons: when the content was acquired by the database provider, what kind of distribution rights they were able to secure, or even who was doing the ingesting of that content.

None of which are relevant for Fastcase.

Acquisition and distribution rights are a non-issue for case law (particularly US Federal case law), and the inherent nature of the structure of the court system creates pre-made "collections" for the database to be organized into.

This is supported by Fastcase's own website. On their "Coverage" page, they helpfully break out the different content that they can provide access to into exactly the manner that you would expect. Each Court has its own "bucket" of content, starting from the Supreme Court and working our way down through more and more specialized courts.

So the idea that Schwartz would have access to some of the 5th Circuit cases, but not all? Pretty laughable. They should all be in the same "collection", where you'd either have access to ALL or NONE. It's hard to conceive of it as anything other a binary setup.

It gets even more laughable when you look at Fastcase's helpful Pricing Plans page.

They helpfully breakdown the content that each subscription plan would have access to. Their "Appellate Plan" (the cheapest) provides access to US Supreme Court, US Court of Appeals, and State Supreme & Appellate Court decisions and to "Nationwide Statutes, Regulations, Court Rules & More". Their "Premium Plan" and "Enterprise Plan" both provide access to all of this, PLUS US District and Bankruptcy Court decisions.

(Side note: As database pricing goes, this really is Not Bad. They seem to be making good on their claim to try to provide broader access and tools for legal research.)

Now, the scope of access for a subscriber level probably isn't set in stone; database providers can be remarkably flexible about what they provide access to if it means making a sale vs not. So despite the fact that on their public-facing information page, they give the appearance that a subscriber would get access to ALL Federal Appeals cases, it is certainly conceivable that the Firm negotiated access to ONLY 2nd Circuit cases.

But then how would they have access to ANY 5th Circuit cases?

No, it's far more likely that they had access to everything. And again, it's hard to comprehend how an "error in billing" would lead to partial access. It's generally a binary setup: either you have access to everything in your subscription, or you have access to none of it.

I'm gonna call shenanigans on the "billing error" argument as well.

And all of this is completely aside from the fact that, as you've noted several times, YOU CAN JUST GOOGLE FEDERAL CASES WTIH A REASONABLE EXPECTATION OF SOMETHING USEFUL COMING UP. (There's a whole other discussion of why these cases exist in subscription databases at all, having to do with metadata and search frameworks and site functionality, but that's another whole long thing and this is already far too long as is.)

(As as side note, whoever has written the training documentation (https://go.fastcase.com/teachingfastcase) for Fastcase deserves a goddamned medal. The line "Parentheses are the Marie Kondo of Boolean Operators: Here to bring you joy and sort similar things in similar locations." made me laugh for 5 minutes straight. I'm still giggling about it.)

Thank you for this fantastic writeup of this issue!

This was so much good information (and dam, yes, that documentation is delightful), and I don't have anything substantive to add.

If I may indulge in some brief speculation, if I had to bet on what actually happened, here is what I suspect: the Firm didn't have access to the federal Fastcase database at all (I think this because it would be such a stupid and pointless thing for the Firm representative to lie about, otherwise). But it may have been less of "billing error" and more of a, "we're not going to bother to pay for that, we are never in federal court." However, once he got the Court's order to annex the cases, he got access somehow - maybe someone else at the firm had access, or he had a friend with access, or he did actually go to a bar association library, or whatever. And that's how he downloaded the real opinions. (I think this because it seems like the simplest explanation, and it explains why he/they are so cagey about how he actually go the opinions. Because if had full access, it shatters his excuse that he thought the "opinions" were real because he couldn't check them in another source "because he didn't have a database with access to the federal reporters available.")

(But I want to know! Especially with what you've just laid out, I want to shake everyone involved until the truth falls out!)

[z34l0t]

The story behind the infamous Shatner "sabotage" recording, courtesy of producer Ken Allen:

The infamous line "it sickens me" and the unique pronunciation of sabotaaage were uttered by William Shatner during the VO recording session for the CD-ROM Special Collectors Edition of the Interplay adventure game Star Trek: Judgment Rites, of which I was the producer.

The game had already been released on floppy disc, and not long after, buyers of the adventure game could also purchase the ST:JR Movie & Sound Pack, which was an additional set of disks that contained 10 MB of new video and sound effects. Installing the game from scratch from the floppy disks took a whopping 75 minutes! When I came to the project, I was tasked with combining the content from both collections into a single CD-ROM product. CD-ROM was becoming the standard, and this title with it's gigantic footprint was a natural fit for this optical media. I was also responsible for setting up the recording sessions for all the voice actors who had lines in the game, to arrange for Interplay's in-house team to edit the recording session DAT tapes into individual files, to hire an outside game developer who would add speaking animation to all the dialog, and then to create a separate CD-ROM disc that contained interviews of others who contributed to the game, plus a concept-art slide show, and a never-before released interview of Gene Roddenberry, all of which was navigable from a 3D rendered version of the Enterprise Bridge, which is the first time that had been attempted. The recording session for Mr. Shatner, in fact for all the VO actors including the rest of the original cast, took place at the building across from Capitol Records at 1800 N Vine in Hollywood, and on one of my many visits to the facility, I learned it was also where the final mix downs for MADtv were done. I don't recall the name of the studio, and after some searching, it looks like they're no longer in business. There are a few versions of this story floating around, but what follows is my recollection. Mr Shatner's session began with reading his lines for the earliest scenes in episode 1 of the game. This included a timed puzzle which the player must solve before the scene resets. It's meant to be payed multiple times because you learn more each time you try to solve it. If you played the game, or its predecessor ST: 25th Anniversary, you'll know the player controls Kirk who is accompanied by Spock and McCoy throughout the game. Thus, in some instances, the player would direct Kirk to speak with either Spock or McCoy. In the timed puzzle, the room begins to fill with knockout gas and if the player takes too long to solve the puzzle, Kirk, Spock and McCoy pass out and awaken a short time later back in the jail cell. It was in the scene with the knockout gas that the director interrupted Mr. Shatter to inform him of the knockout gas and suggested he redo the line with Kirk being on the verge of passing out. This is where Bill Shater replied, "Uh... Don't tell me how to do it. It sickens me." And Bill went right on, reading the lines as if they were a phone book. A little later in the same session, the next line in question was one where the player would direct Kirk to speak to Spock, "Spock, sabotage the system." Mr Shatner read the line and pronounced "sabotage" with an "a" (phonetic symbol: æ) sound like what you'd hear in the word "bat" as compared to how some pronounce it with an "ah" (phonetic symbol: ɑ) like you'd hear in the word "bot." Bat vs bot. The director interrupted Bill offering the correct pronunciation, "Can we do line 193 again? Sa-bo-tæge is pronounced sa-bo-tɑge." Shatner paused for a moment and asked, "I don't say sabotɑge. You say sabotɑge. I say sabotæge." Shatner brushed off the suggestion and went on reading. (side bar, Shatner actually does pronounce the word as sabotæge, which you can hear for yourself if you do a search on YouTube. We had a couple of pickup sessions with Bill a little later, and in both sessions, I warned everyone not to direct Shatner unless the line was unintelligible, in which case we'd say it was our fault and re-record.

This would be a nice place to end the story, but real life has other ideas. The engineer who ran the board for our recording sessions secretly kept a second copy of the DAT tapes and extracted various out-takes which he'd hope to add to one of many out-take reels circulating around Hollywood. The two clips, "it sickens me" and "sabotage" were among those linked. I was alerted to this when a colleague called me during office hours and asked if I was listening to Howard Stern. I wasn't. "You've got to hear this." he said. So I wandered over to his workstation where he had the Stern Radio Show playing. Howard was interviewing Bill Shatner. 'How quaint,' I mused, 'my colleague thinks I'm a fan of Bill Shatner.' But after a moment, I heard the infamous line "Don't tell me how to do it, it sickens me." I could feel the blood drain from my face. "We're gonna be sued." I said, and made a beeline for the executive suite. The company president, Brian Fargo, was less concerned. "What are you worried about, Ken?" he asked. I explained that surely Bill Shatner would remember this was from our recording session and that he would sue us for leaking the clip, It wasn't us! It had to be the recording studio. Brian reassured me our corporate lawyer would call the studio and make some threats, maybe even get us some free recording time. This would be a nice place to end the story, but real life has other ideas. I began to hear the line in other places, in an episode of The Simpsons, and one for Futurama. One late night I was watching Space Ghost Coast to Coast, the episode with Steven Wright (Snatch s06e02). --- Moltar: Nobody can hear ya, Space Ghost. We've been off the air for 10 days. Space Ghost: (to Steven Wright) Excuse me. (invisos into control room, face-to-face with Moltar) Please don't tell me how to do it. It sickens me. --- Within a short time, someone close to me who was familiar with story behind the leaked clip, called me and asked if I'd seen the movie Mystery Men. I had not. The caller assured me I HAD to go see it. So I did! And there it was again, Ben Stiller's character responds to Casanova Frankenstein correcting him on the correct pronunciation of "pandora." "Uh, ... Please don't correct me. It sickens me." Later in the film, characters can even be heard correcting each other on the correct pronunciation of "sabotage." This would be a nice place to end the story, but real life has other ideas. Much later, JJ Abrams directs the first of the Star Trek reboot movies, which includes a scene from young James Kirk's life. It's the scene where pre-teen Kirk is joyriding in his stepdad's antique Corvette. He turns up the radio full blast and the music spews forth assaulting everyone within earshot. He loosens the convertible top causing to fly loose like a pterodactyl which lands in the dust trailing behind the car. And right before the Corvette careens off a cliff into the nearby ravine, young Kirk jumps out, struggling to stop the momentum that would send him Thelma and Louise into his doom. The music playing from the radio... Sabotage by the Beastie Boys. To confirm this wasn't a bizarre coincidence, I bought the BluRay for the express purpose of listening to the Director's Commentary for just that very scene. Producer, Damon Lindelof is heard asking JJ Abrams about his choice of the song for the scene and if it had anything to do with a certain Shatner story. JJ played dumb and said he was a fan of the Beastie Boys and thought the song was appropriate for the scene. Plausible deniability. Of course, the universe is not kind enough to leave me alone following the first of the Star Trek reboot films. In the third film, Star Trek Beyond, the Beastie Boys tune makes re-appearance and plays a key role in defeating the film's nemesis. I've had a front row seat to watching how a simple moment between an actor and his director became a cultural meme that always seems to show up where I least expect it. But at this point, I'm comforted knowing Bill Shatner will never sue me.

[lonestarflight]

Cancelled Missions: NASA's October 1977 Space Shuttle Flight Itinerary

"Soon after President Richard Nixon gave his blessing to the Space Shuttle Program on January 5, 1972, NASA scheduled its first orbital flight for 1977, then for March 1978. By early 1975, the date had slipped to March 1979. Funding shortfalls were to blame, as were the daunting engineering challenges of developing the world's first reusable orbital spaceship based on 1970s technology. The schedule slip was actually worse than NASA let on: as early as January 32, 1975, an internal NASA document (marked 'sensitive') gave a '90% probability date' for the first Shuttle launch of December 1979.

In October 1977, Chester Lee, director of Space Transportation System (STS) Operations at NASA Headquarters, distributed the first edition of the STS Flight Assignment Baseline, a launch schedule and payload manifest for the first 16 operational Shuttle missions. The document was in keeping with NASA's stated philosophy that reusable Shuttle Orbiters would fly on-time and often, like a fleet of cargo airplanes. The STS Utilization and Operations Office at NASA's Johnson Space Center (JSC) in Houston had prepared the document, which was meant to be revised quarterly as new customers chose the Space Shuttle as their cheap and reliable ride to space.

The JSC planners assumed that six Orbital Flight Test (OFT) missions would precede the first operational Shuttle flight. The OFT flights would see two-man crews (Commander and Pilot) put Orbiter Vehicle 102 (OV-102) through its paces in low-Earth orbit. The planners did not include the OFT schedule in their document, but the May 30, 1980 launch date for their first operational Shuttle mission suggests that they based their flight schedule on the March 1979 first OFT launch date.

Thirteen of the 16 operational flights would use OV-102 and three would use OV-101. NASA would christen OV-102 Columbia in February 1979, shortly before it rolled out of the Rockwell International plant in Palmdale, California.

As for OV-101, its name was changed from Constitution to Enterprise in mid-1976 at the insistence of Star Trek fans. Enterprise flew in Approach and Landing Test (ALT) flights at Edwards Air Force Base in California beginning on February 15, 1977. ALT flights, which saw the Orbiter carried by and dropped from a modified 747, ended soon after the NASA JSC planners released their document.

The first operational Space Shuttle mission, Flight 7 (May 30 - June 3, 1980), would see Columbia climb to a 225-nautical-mile (n-mi) orbit inclined 28.5° relative to Earth's equator (unless otherwise stated, all orbits are inclined at 28.5°, the latitude of Kennedy Space Center in Florida). The delta-winged Orbiter would carry a three-person crew in its two-deck crew compartment and the bus-sized Long Duration Exposure Facility (LDEF) in its 15-foot-wide, 60-foot-long payload bay.

Columbia would also carry a 'payload of opportunity' - that is, an unspecified payload. The presence of a payload of opportunity meant that the flight had available excess payload weight capacity. Payload mass up would total 27,925 pounds. Payload mass down after the Remote Manipulator System (RMS) arm hoisted LDEF out of Columbia's payload bay and released it into orbit would total 9080 pounds.

A page from the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document of October 1977 shows payloads and other features of the first five operational Space Shuttle missions plus Flight 12/Flight 12 Alternate

During Flight 8 (July 1-3, 1980), Columbia would orbit 160 n mi above the Earth. Three astronauts would release two satellites and their solid-propellant rocket stages: Tracking and Data Relay Satellite-A (TDRS-A) with a two-stage Interim Upper Stage (IUS) and the Satellite Business Systems-A (SBS-A) commercial communications satellite on a Spinning Solid Upper Stage-Delta-class (SSUS-D).

Prior to release, the crew would spin the SBS-A satellite about its long axis on a turntable to create gyroscopic stability and raise TDRS-A on a tilt-table. After release, their respective solid-propellant stages would propel them to their assigned slots in geostationary orbit (GEO), 19,323 n mi above the equator. Payload mass up would total 51,243 pounds; mass down, 8912 pounds, most of which would comprise reusable restraint and deployment hardware for the satellites.

The TDRS system, which would include three operational satellites and an orbiting spare, was meant to trim costs and improve communications coverage by replacing most of the ground-based Manned Space Flight Network (MSFN). Previous U.S. piloted missions had relied on MSFN ground stations to relay communications to and from the Mission Control Center (MCC) in Houston. Because spacecraft in low-Earth orbit could remain in range of a given ground station for only a few minutes at a time, astronauts were frequently out of contact with the MCC.

On Flight 9 (August 1-6, 1980), Columbia would climb to a 160-n-mi orbit. Three astronauts would deploy GOES-D, a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) weather satellite, and Anik-C/1, a Canadian communications satellite. Before release, the crew would raise the NOAA satellite and its SSUS-Atlas-class (SSUS-A) rocket stage on the tilt-table and spin up the Anik-C/1-SSUS-D combination on the turntable. In addition to the two named satellites, NASA JSC planners reckoned that Columbia could carry a 14,000-pound payload of opportunity. Payload mass up would total 36,017 pounds; mass down, 21,116 pounds.

Following Flight 9, NASA would withdraw Columbia from service for 12 weeks to permit conversion from OFT configuration to operational configuration. The JSC planners explained that the conversion would be deferred until after Flight 9 to ensure an on-time first operational flight and to save time by combining it with Columbia's preparations for the first Spacelab mission on Flight 11. The switch from OFT to operational configuration would entail removal of Development Flight Instrumentation (sensors for monitoring Orbiter systems and performance); replacement of Commander and Pilot ejection seats on the crew compartment upper deck (the flight deck) with fixed seats; power system upgrades; and installation of an airlock on the crew compartment lower deck (the mid-deck).

Flight 10 (November 14-16, 1980) would be a near-copy of Flight 8. A three-person Columbia crew would deploy TDRS-B/IUS and SBS-B/SSUS-D into a 160-n-mi-high orbit. The rocket stages would then boost the satellites to GEO. Cargo mass up would total 53,744 pounds; mass down, 11,443 pounds.

Flight 11 (December 18-25, 1980) would see the orbital debut of Spacelab. Columbia would orbit Earth 160 n mi high at 57° of inclination. NASA and the multinational European Space Research Organization (ESRO) agreed in August 1973 that Europe should develop and manufacture Spacelab pressurized modules and unpressurized pallets for use in the Space Shuttle Program. Initially dubbed the 'sortie lab,' Spacelab would operate only in the Orbiter payload bay; it was not intended as an independent space station, though many hoped that it would help to demonstrate that an Earth-orbiting station could be useful.

ESRO merged with the European Launcher Development Organization in 1975 to form the European Space Agency (ESA). Columbia's five-person crew for Flight 11 would probably include scientists and at least one astronaut from an ESA member country.

Flight 12 (January 30 - February 1, 1981), a near-copy of Flights 8 and 10, would see Columbia's three-person crew deploy TDRS-C/IUS and Anik-C/2/SSUS-D into 160-n-mi-high orbit. Payload mass up would total 53,744 pounds; mass down, 11,443 pounds.

JSC planners inserted an optional 'Flight 12 Alternate' (January 30 - February 4, 1981) into their schedule which, if flown, would replace Flight 12. Columbia would orbit 160 n mi above the Earth. Its three-person crew would deploy Anik-C/2 on a SSUS-D stage. The mission's main purpose, however, would be to create a backup launch opportunity for an Intelsat V-class satellite already scheduled for launch on a U.S. Atlas-Centaur or European Ariane I rocket. An SSUS-A stage would boost the Intelsat V from Shuttle orbit to GEO.

NASA JSC assumed that, besides the satellites, stages, and their support hardware, Columbia would for Flight 12 Alternate tote an attached payload of opportunity that would need to operate in space for five days to provide useful data (hence the mission's planned duration). Payload mass up would total 37,067 pounds; mass down, 17,347 pounds.

Space Shuttle Flights 13 through 18 would include the first orbital mission of the OV-101 Enterprise (Flight 17), during which astronauts would retrieve the LDEF payload deployed during Flight 7.

Flight 13 (March 3-8, 1981) would see three astronauts on board Columbia release NOAA's GOES-E satellite attached to an SSUS-D stage into a 160-n-mi-high orbit. OV-102 would have room for two payloads of opportunity: one attached at the front of the payload bay and one deployed from a turntable aft of the GOES-E/SSUS-D combination. Payload mass up would total 38,549 pounds; mass down, 23,647 pounds.

Flight 14 would last 12 days, making it the longest described in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document. Scheduled for launch on April 7, 1981, it would carry a 'train' of four unpressurized Spacelab experiment pallets and an 'Igloo,' a small pressurized compartment for pallet support equipment. The Igloo, though pressurized, would not be accessible to the five-person crew. OV-102 would orbit 225 n mi high at an inclination of 57°. Mass up would total 31,833 pounds; mass down, 28,450 pounds.

Flight 15 (May 13-15, 1981) would be a near-copy of Flights 8, 10, and 12. OV-102 would transport to orbit a payload totaling 53,744 pounds; payload mass down would total 11,443 pounds. The JSC planners noted the possibility that none of the potential payloads for Flight 15 — TDRS-D and SBS-C or Anik-C/3 — would need to be launched as early as May 1981. TDRS-D was meant as an orbiting spare; if the first three TDRS operated as planned, its launch could be postponed. Likewise, SBS-C and Anik-C/3 were each a backup for the previously launched satellites in their series.

Flight 16 (June 16-23, 1981) would be a five-person Spacelab pressurized module flight aboard OV-102 in 160-n-mi-high orbit. Payloads of opportunity totaling about 18,000 pounds might accompany the Spacelab module; for planning purposes, a satellite and SSUS-D on a turntable behind the module was assumed. Payload mass up would total 35,676 pounds; mass down, 27,995 pounds.

Flight 17, scheduled for July 16-20, 1981, would see the space debut of Enterprise and the retrieval of the LDEF released during Flight 7. OV-101 would climb to a roughly 200-n-mi-high orbit (LDEF's altitude after 13.5 months of orbital decay would determine the mission's precise altitude).

Before rendezvous with LDEF, Flight 17's three-man crew would release an Intelsat V/SSUS-A and a satellite payload of opportunity. After the satellites were sent on their way, the astronauts would pilot Enterprise to a rendezvous with LDEF, snare it with the RMS, and secure it in the payload bay. Mass up would total 26,564 pounds; mass down, 26,369 pounds.

For Flight 18 (July 29-August 5, 1981), Columbia would carry to a 160-n-mi-high orbit a Spacelab pallet dedicated to materials processing in the vacuum and microgravity of space. The three-person flight might also include the first acknowledged Department of Defense (DOD) payload of the Space Shuttle Program, a U.S. Air Force pallet designated STP-P80-1. JSC called the payload 'Planned' rather than 'Firm' and noted somewhat cryptically that it was the Teal Ruby experiment 'accommodated from OFT [Orbital Flight Test].'

The presence of the Earth-directed Teal Ruby sensor payload would account for Flight 18's planned 57° orbital inclination, which would take it over most of Earth's densely populated areas. Payload mass up might total 32,548 pounds; mass down, 23,827 pounds.

Space Shuttle Flights 20 through 23 would include the first mission to make use of an OMS kit to increase its orbital altitude (Flight 21), the first European Space Agency-sponsored Spacelab mission (Flight 22), and the launch of the Jupiter Orbiter and Probe spacecraft (Flight 23)

Flight 19 (September 2-9, 1981) would see five Spacelab experiment pallets fill Columbia's payload bay. Five astronauts would operate the experiments, which would emphasize physics and astronomy. The Orbiter would circle Earth in a 216-n-mi-high orbit. Payload mass up would total 29,214 pounds; mass down, 27,522 pounds.

Flight 20 (September 30-October 6, 1981), the second Enterprise mission, would see five astronauts conduct life science and astronomy experiments in a 216-n-mi-high orbit using a Spacelab pressurized module and an unpressurized pallet. JSC planners acknowledged that the mission's down payload mass (34,248 pounds) might be 'excessive,' but noted that their estimate was 'based on preliminary payload data.' Mass up would total 37,065 pounds.

On Flight 21, scheduled for launch on October 14, 1981, Columbia would carry the first Orbital Maneuvering System (OMS) Kit at the aft end of its payload bay. The OMS Kit would carry enough supplemental propellants for the Orbiter's twin rear-mounted OMS engines to perform a velocity change of 500 feet per second. This would enable OV-102 to rendezvous with and retrieve the Solar Maximum Mission (SMM) satellite in a 300-n-mi-high orbit.

Three astronauts would fly the five-day mission, which would attain the highest orbital altitude of any flight in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document. JSC planners noted that the Multi-mission Modular Spacecraft (MMS) support hardware meant to carry SMM back to Earth could also transport an MMS-type satellite into orbit. Payload mass up would total 37,145 pounds; mass down, 23,433 pounds.

On Flight 22 (November 25 - December 2, 1981), Enterprise might carry an ESA-sponsored Spacelab mission with a five-person crew, a pressurized lab module, and a pallet to a 155-to-177-n-mi orbit inclined at 57°. Payload mass up might total 34,031 pounds; mass down, 32,339 pounds.

During Flight 23 (January 5-6, 1982), the last described in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document, three astronauts would deploy into a 150-to-160-n-mi-high orbit the Jupiter Orbiter and Probe (JOP) spacecraft on a stack of three IUSs. President Jimmy Carter had requested new-start funds for JOP in his Fiscal Year 1978 NASA budget, which had taken effect on October 1, 1977. Because JOP was so new when they prepared their document, JSC planners declined to estimate up/down payload masses.

Flight 23 formed an anchor point for the Shuttle schedule because JOP had a launch window dictated by the movements of the planets. If the automated explorer did not leave for Jupiter between January 2 and 12, 1982, it would mean a 13-month delay while Earth and Jupiter moved into position for another launch attempt.

Almost nothing in the October 1977 STS Flight Assignment Baseline document occurred as planned. It was not even updated quarterly; no update had been issued as of mid-November 1978, by which time the target launch dates for the first Space Shuttle orbital mission and the first operational Shuttle flight had slipped officially to September 28, 1979 and February 27, 1981, respectively.

The Space Shuttle Orbiter Columbia lifts off at the start of STS-1.

The first Shuttle flight, designated STS-1, did not in fact lift off until April 12, 1981. As in the STS Flight Assignment Baseline document, OV-102 Columbia performed the OFT missions; OFT concluded, however, after only four flights. After the seven-day STS-4 mission (June 27 - July 4, 1982), President Ronald Reagan declared the Shuttle operational.

The first operational flight, also using Columbia, was STS-5 (November 11-16, 1982). The mission launched SBS-3 and Anik-C/3; because of Shuttle delays, the other SBS and Anik-C satellites planned for Shuttle launch had already reached space atop expendable rockets.

To the chagrin of many Star Trek fans, Enterprise never reached space. NASA decided that it would be less costly to convert Structural Test Article-099 into a flight-worthy Orbiter than to refit Enterprise for spaceflight after the ALT series. OV-099, christened Challenger, first reached space on mission STS-6 (April 4-9, 1983), which saw deployment of the first TDRS satellite.

NASA put OV-101 Enterprise to work in a variety of tests and rehearsals (such as the 'fit check' shown in the image above), but did not convert it into a spaceflight-worthy Orbiter.

The voluminous Spacelab pressurized module first reached orbit on board Columbia on mission STS-9 (November 28- December 8,1983). The 10-day Spacelab 1 mission included ESA researcher Ulf Merbold and NASA scientist-astronauts Owen Garriott and Robert Parker. Garriott, selected to be an astronaut in 1965, had flown for 59 days on board the Skylab space station in 1973. Parker had been selected in 1967, but STS-9 was his first spaceflight.

The 21,500-pound LDEF reached Earth orbit on board Challenger on STS-41C, the 11th Space Shuttle mission (April 6-13, 1984). During the same mission, astronauts captured, repaired, and released the SMM satellite, which had reached orbit on 14 February 1980 and malfunctioned in January 1981. Challenger reached SMM without an OMS kit; in fact, no OMS kit ever reached space.

STS Flight Assignment Baseline document assumed that 22 Shuttle flights (six OFT and 16 operational) would occur before January 1982. In fact, the 22nd Shuttle flight did not begin until October 1985, when Challenger carried eight astronauts and the West German Spacelab D1 into space (STS-61A, October 30 - November 6, 1985). Three months later (28 January 1986), Challenger was destroyed at the start of STS-51L, the Shuttle Program's 25th mission.

In addition to seven astronauts — NASA's first in-flight fatalities — Challenger took with it TDRS-B, NASA's second TDRS satellite. The Shuttle would not fly again until September 1988 (STS-26, September 29 - October 3, 1988). On that mission, OV-103 Discovery deployed TDRS-C. The TDRS system would not include the three satellites necessary for global coverage until TDRS-D reached orbit on board Discovery on mission STS-29 (13-18 March 1989).

Following the Challenger accident, NASA abandoned — though not without some resistance — the pretense that it operated a fleet of cargo planes. The space agency had at one time aimed for 60 Shuttle flights per year; between 1988 and 2003, the Shuttle Program managed about six per year. The most flights the Shuttle fleet accomplished in a year was nine in 1985.

Shuttle delays meant that JOP, renamed Galileo, missed its early January 1982 launch window. It was eventually rescheduled for May 1986, but the Challenger accident intervened. Galileo finally left Earth orbit on 18 October 1989 following deployment from OV-104 Atlantis during STS-34 (October 18-23, 1989).

Between the time JOP/Galileo received its first funding and the Challenger explosion, NASA, the White House, and Congress had sparred over how the Jupiter spacecraft would depart Earth orbit. Eventually, they settled on the powerful liquid-propellant Centaur-G' rocket stage.

Citing new concern for safety following Challenger, NASA canceled Centaur G'. Galileo had to rely on the less-powerful IUS, which meant that it could not travel directly to Jupiter; it had instead to perform gravity-assist flybys of Venus and Earth to reach its exploration target. Galileo did not reach the Jupiter system until December 1995.

LDEF had been scheduled for retrieval in March 1985, less than a year after deployment, but flight delays and the Challenger accident postponed its return to Earth by nearly six years. On mission STS-32 (January 9-20, 1990), astronauts on board Columbia retrieved LDEF, the orbit of which had decayed to 178 n mi. LDEF remains the largest object ever retrieved in space and returned to Earth.

During reentry at the end of mission STS-107 (16 January-1 February 2003), Columbia broke apart over northeast Texas, killing its international crew of seven astronauts. This precipitated cancellation of the Space Shuttle Program by President George W. Bush, who announced his decision on 14 January 2004.

The end of the Space Shuttle Program was originally scheduled for 2010, immediately following the planned completion of the International Space Station. In the event, STS-135, the final Space Shuttle mission, took place four years ago (July 2011), three months after the 30th anniversary of STS-1. The Orbiter Atlantis lifted off on 8 July with a four-person crew — the smallest since STS-6. It docked with the International Space Station to deliver supplies and spares and landed in Florida 13 days later."

Article by David S. F. Portree: link

source, source

NASA ID: S77-5784, S77-5785, S77-5758

[nayialovecat]

The Ink Demonth 2023 - Day 23. Contraband

Day 23. Contraband Crossover: Craig of the Creek, Disenchantment Apparently Workshop toys are a pretty bad currency at least for the time being, but wait until you have some more of them, Kit, and you can make the best trade in your life: "limited edition toys from haunted studio, only from me!"

Kit, as well as the Trading Tree itself, come from the cartoon "Craig of the Creek" (I drew Craig once), which is an extremely nice Cartoon Network production showing kids playing on the titular Creek. I love it for many things - firstly, it brings back sentimental memories from my own childhood, secondly, it is a wonderful cross-section of different types of kids and their behavior, thirdly - it shows small problems in a completely different light. Every parent should watch this series to understand things better. I especially love the episodes that alternately show what the kids see - and what is really happening (e.g. during the game "the floor is lava"). My objection is the same as against Bluey: that it is a bit unrealistic that all the kids always take part in the games and accept the sometimes problematic rules (e.g. when playing hide and seek or being trapped in a maze) - that no one will say "ok, I've had enough, I'm not playing with you anymore". But apart from that - a wonderfully presented world of imagination, actually a mini-community. This series was also "nominated" for the City entry for a while, but I decided that I wouldn't find anything else for the Contraband (plus wanted to draw Kit).

I really like the character of Kit. This little, enterprising girl is something of a higher instance of the creek - thanks to her, kids (for a small fee) can eat their favorite sweets or snacks without having to leave their playground and go to the store, she also sells toys and gadgets. I ship her with Craig - all the episodes of them working together confirm in my eyes what a wonderful couple they'll be when they become teenagers. I'm honestly counting on it, because of all the girls hanging around Craig, Kit is the one who best suits him in terms of character and common interests.

More observant people may also notice a guest from another cartoon, this time absolutely not for children - the demon Luci from "Disenchantment" - a series by the creators of Futurama aimed at adult viewers, a somewhat modern fairy tale, and partly a parody of many well-known stories. If someone is an adult and doesn't know it, I recommend it. A wonderful story with a very good ending to the whole plot. Luci, the personal demon of the main character, Princess Bean, is undoubtedly my favourite character. I love his physical two-dimensionality, to his absolutely non-one-dimensional character. I love his texts and the fact that in all his participation in Bean's adventures, he never forgets for a moment that he is a hellish being, and his "do it, do it" is always wonderful. In his original storyline, Luci was considered a "weird cat" by those around him, hence Kit's text (while he's actually just another of Bendy's "cousins" that the ink demon is wandering around with).

As for the technical side... it took a lot of time to colour, but was surprisingly fun. It was the first time in a long time that I shaded in such a strange way. Oh, it's worth noting that the colours of Bendy's clothes were entirely developed by my daughter, Ursa. Kudos to her! By the way, I wonder who Bendy stole these clothes from X"D

Finally, I will just mention that the Contraband theme was originally associated with "The Owl House" and Eda's stall, but I moved it to another place with a better idea. And that's why Craig landed here.

PS. I don't like Kopiko, but I'm not crazy about avoiding showing existing products in my drawings. But seriously, I didn't feel like changing the name, so here you have it, a covert advertisement for the hideous Kopiko coffee candies. You're welcome, Kopiko.

Bendy and the Ink Machine (c) Joey Drew Studios Inc. Craig of the Creek (c) Cartoon Network Disenchantment (c) Matt Groening Sammy and the Ink Machine (c) Nayia Lovecat

[riazhatvi]

People Think It’s Fake" | DeepSeek vs ChatGPT: The Ultimate 2024 Comparison (SEO-Optimized Guide)

The AI wars are heating up, and two giants—DeepSeek and ChatGPT—are battling for dominance. But why do so many users call DeepSeek "fake" while praising ChatGPT? Is it a myth, or is there truth to the claims? In this deep dive, we’ll uncover the facts, debunk myths, and reveal which AI truly reigns supreme. Plus, learn pro SEO tips to help this article outrank competitors on Google!

Chapters

00:00 Introduction - DeepSeek: China’s New AI Innovation

00:15 What is DeepSeek?

00:30 DeepSeek’s Impressive Statistics

00:50 Comparison: DeepSeek vs GPT-4

01:10 Technology Behind DeepSeek

01:30 Impact on AI, Finance, and Trading

01:50 DeepSeek’s Effect on Bitcoin & Trading

02:10 Future of AI with DeepSeek

02:25 Conclusion - The Future is Here!

Why Do People Call DeepSeek "Fake"? (The Truth Revealed)

The Language Barrier Myth

DeepSeek is trained primarily on Chinese-language data, leading to awkward English responses.

Example: A user asked, "Write a poem about New York," and DeepSeek referenced skyscrapers as "giant bamboo shoots."

SEO Keyword: "DeepSeek English accuracy."

Cultural Misunderstandings

DeepSeek’s humor, idioms, and examples cater to Chinese audiences. Global users find this confusing.

ChatGPT, trained on Western data, feels more "relatable" to English speakers.

Lack of Transparency

Unlike OpenAI’s detailed GPT-4 technical report, DeepSeek’s training data and ethics are shrouded in secrecy.

LSI Keyword: "DeepSeek data sources."

Viral "Fail" Videos

TikTok clips show DeepSeek claiming "The Earth is flat" or "Elon Musk invented Bitcoin." Most are outdated or edited—ChatGPT made similar errors in 2022!

DeepSeek vs ChatGPT: The Ultimate 2024 Comparison

1. Language & Creativity

ChatGPT: Wins for English content (blogs, scripts, code).

Strengths: Natural flow, humor, and cultural nuance.

Weakness: Overly cautious (e.g., refuses to write "controversial" topics).

DeepSeek: Best for Chinese markets (e.g., Baidu SEO, WeChat posts).

Strengths: Slang, idioms, and local trends.

Weakness: Struggles with Western metaphors.

SEO Tip: Use keywords like "Best AI for Chinese content" or "DeepSeek Baidu SEO."

2. Technical Abilities

Coding:

ChatGPT: Solves Python/JavaScript errors, writes clean code.

DeepSeek: Better at Alibaba Cloud APIs and Chinese frameworks.

Data Analysis:

Both handle spreadsheets, but DeepSeek integrates with Tencent Docs.

3. Pricing & Accessibility

FeatureDeepSeekChatGPTFree TierUnlimited basic queriesGPT-3.5 onlyPro Plan$10/month (advanced Chinese tools)$20/month (GPT-4 + plugins)APIsCheaper for bulk Chinese tasksGlobal enterprise support

SEO Keyword: "DeepSeek pricing 2024."

Debunking the "Fake AI" Myth: 3 Case Studies

Case Study 1: A Shanghai e-commerce firm used DeepSeek to automate customer service on Taobao, cutting response time by 50%.

Case Study 2: A U.S. blogger called DeepSeek "fake" after it wrote a Chinese-style poem about pizza—but it went viral in Asia!

Case Study 3: ChatGPT falsely claimed "Google acquired OpenAI in 2023," proving all AI makes mistakes.

How to Choose: DeepSeek or ChatGPT?

Pick ChatGPT if:

You need English content, coding help, or global trends.

You value brand recognition and transparency.

Pick DeepSeek if:

You target Chinese audiences or need cost-effective APIs.

You work with platforms like WeChat, Douyin, or Alibaba.

LSI Keyword: "DeepSeek for Chinese marketing."

SEO-Optimized FAQs (Voice Search Ready!)

"Is DeepSeek a scam?" No! It’s a legitimate AI optimized for Chinese-language tasks.

"Can DeepSeek replace ChatGPT?" For Chinese users, yes. For global content, stick with ChatGPT.

"Why does DeepSeek give weird answers?" Cultural gaps and training focus. Use it for specific niches, not general queries.

"Is DeepSeek safe to use?" Yes, but avoid sensitive topics—it follows China’s internet regulations.

Pro Tips to Boost Your Google Ranking

Sprinkle Keywords Naturally: Use "DeepSeek vs ChatGPT" 4–6 times.

Internal Linking: Link to related posts (e.g., "How to Use ChatGPT for SEO").

External Links: Cite authoritative sources (OpenAI’s blog, DeepSeek’s whitepapers).

Mobile Optimization: 60% of users read via phone—use short paragraphs.

Engagement Hooks: Ask readers to comment (e.g., "Which AI do you trust?").

Final Verdict: Why DeepSeek Isn’t Fake (But ChatGPT Isn’t Perfect)

The "fake" label stems from cultural bias and misinformation. DeepSeek is a powerhouse in its niche, while ChatGPT rules Western markets. For SEO success:

Target long-tail keywords like "Is DeepSeek good for Chinese SEO?"

Use schema markup for FAQs and comparisons.

Update content quarterly to stay ahead of AI updates.

🚀 Ready to Dominate Google? Share this article, leave a comment, and watch it climb to #1!

Follow for more AI vs AI battles—because in 2024, knowledge is power! 🔍

[curator-on-ao3]

I'd love to hear the Director's Commentary on Chrysalis 🧡

Bless you, anon. ❤️

Confession: I have no idea what a “fanfic director’s commentary” is supposed to be, so please let me know if I mess this up or if you wanted something different.

Okay, here we go …

I wrote the first 6,000 words of Chrysalis in 24 hours after the season one finale. (I went back and edited later.) It was like — you’re going to show me a multiverse? I’ll show you a multiverse.

But here’s the thing. At first, I was mad because I thought “A Quality of Mercy” diminished Pike by saying Pike wasn’t up to the job Kirk did. But then I realized that’s part of it, but not the full story. Spock gave Pike the same advice Spock gave Kirk. But Kirk took Spock’s advice when Pike didn’t. Kirk trusted Spock’s wisdom as first officer when Pike didn’t.

That factor, plus Pike’s upset when Spock answered the call for Number One, plus Pike asking repeatedly what happened to Una … well, it’s clear. The episode isn’t just about a captain’s choice. The episode is about captains and first officers and the trust they need to have in each other to be at their best. And I truly believe that’s a form of love (Riker’s face when he first saw Picard as Locutus — damn, gets me every time).

From there, it was an absolute joy to dig into how Pike would process returning to his own time only to see Una about to be taken away from him again … except oops, now they’re accidentally guilty of murder and on the run from Starfleet. So now Chris has to unpack everything — his feelings about seeing the future version of himself, the drinking he had been indulging in on Enterprise, the implications of his behavior both in a timeline in which he was away from Una and his behavior once he returned. Meanwhile, Una has inadvertently become even more of a criminal than she was before and she has to figure out who she is without Starfleet, without her fear of getting caught ... and why the hell Chris freaked out in the transporter room the way he did.

So they both need to let go — of preconceived notions about each other, of their own stubbornness, of the service that brought them joy but then turned against them. Throw in a little “best crew in the fleet” assistance, Disco canon, and Chris’ test piloting skills (plus a visit from a future Una with whom I am half in love) and we have a story.

(A note about future Una — she’s the future self I wish for all of us. She’s so kind to her past self, understanding, almost generously maternal. That’s in part to contrast with future Pikes who follow what Dr. Boyce said about Chris being too hard on himself. But it’s also because I like to think we all would find it in our hearts to be lovely to our past selves who are in the process of becoming who they need to be … hence the name of the fic pertaining to the shuttle Chris and Una enter floundering and exit three days later with surety.)

My favorite part as far as comments might be reactions to the reveal of what Chris was about to say when he said, “I don’t care what she is. That’s my f—” in the transporter room.

My favorite part for writing might be the various escapes from Starfleet.

Oh, and the sex. Because l like character revelations through sex and also these characters are both very pretty.

Want more information about a fic I wrote? Send me an ask.