#the amount of damage they did to data

[adarkroomandawallflower]

I have quite a few bones to pick with the writing of Descent, but one of the things that upset me the most from both episodes is when Data tells Geordi he believes he experienced his first emotion, & the first thing that Geordi said was, "No offense, Data, but how can you tell the difference between an emotion & a power surge?"

In my opinion, that was so out of character & disrespectful of him to say, especially to his best friend! And the discussion it led to felt so one-sided, in the sense that rather than be helpful & contribute meaningfully to the conversation, Geordi was just critical & harsh towards Data the entire time...

Maybe I'm just overanalyzing or letting my disliking of Descent influence my interpretation of the interaction, but it just really bothered me

[espace--positif]

After Rain Comes Sunshine

A Zayne x Fem!Reader Fic [Love and Deepspace]

Summary: Zayne invites you to join him on one of his morning runs. Unfortunately (or fortunately), the weather has other plans for the two of you.

Pairing: Zayne x Fem!Reader

Content: Fluff, Pre-relationship, Slow Burn if you squint, MC Reader, Brief description of injury.

WC: ~3.7K

My Masterlist

You stared at the figures on the report in front of you and they stared back in defiance. No matter how many times you plugged the numbers into the UNICORNS program’s interface, it returned either incomplete results or an error. You sighed in defeat and laid back in your chair, staring at the setting sun on the horizon.

Data analysis had never been your strong suit, and the inconsistencies brought on by abnormal Wanderer activity in the area did not make your temporary assignment any easier. The field suited you much better, but you had unfortunately been temporarily pulled from active duty after sustaining an injury while on a mission.

You’d been on nighttime patrol with one of the new Alpha Team recruits in an area where moderate Wanderer activity had been reported when both your watches picked up a large spike in energy fluctuations. Your regrettably green hunt partner had panicked and started blasting at the tree line at the tiniest sign of movement, and an opportunistic Wanderer had jumped at him. You’d pushed him out of the way of what certainly would’ve been a fatal blow, and the Wanderer’s gargantuan claw had embedded itself in your shoulder instead.

You thought that the earful that Captain Jenna had delivered to the poor recruit at debriefing was harsh, but you found that it was nothing compared to the treatment you’d received from Dr. Zayne when you reported to Akso Hospital.

“It’s not a big deal. You should’ve seen the other guy,” you’d tried to joke, lightly and nervously tapping your heel on the side of the examination table after he’d tended to your wound. Instead of the usual chuckle or crack of a smile Zayne would usually give you when you attempted humor, you were met with silence as he picked up a clipboard and busied himself writing. 

Ah, yes. You were dealing with ‘Dr. Zayne’ now.

“We, uh, we killed the Wanderer who did this. It was real bloody… is what I’m trying to-”

Your rambling was cut short when he paused his writing and looked up at you, his icy hazel eyes threatening to bore holes through your own.

“You’re not… angry, are you?” you chanced. Though he wasn’t the most outwardly expressive man in the world, even less so when he was in “Doctor” mode, you liked to think that you were attuned to his body language - the slight downturn of his lips, intensity in his eyes, and stiffness of his posture told you that he certainly wasn’t happy.

“I’m pulling you from duty. You’re to report back here in three weeks and I’ll see if you’re fit to be cleared for duty again,” he replied flatly, authoritative gaze still glued to you. You were no stranger to the strictness of the doctor’s orders, but three weeks was pushing it. This was some sort of punishment for your recklessness, you were sure of it.

“Three weeks? Isn’t that a bit much?” you asked while lightly rolling your freshly bandaged shoulder in an attempt to prove the levity of the injury.

Zayne narrowed his eyes, then proceeded to stow his pen into his white coat pocket, and you instantly knew that a hefty lecture was on its way.

“Exercising an injured muscle before it’s fully healed can lead to slowed healing and permanent damage. And next time, you’d do well to avoid being so reckless on the field. Come to think of it, perhaps a month of rest will be needed to ensure proper healing.”

And with that, he had shut down any possibility for a compromise, especially considering you didn’t have the expertise to dispute his diagnosis. Besides, when he got like this, you knew better than to argue, lest he extend your banishment from duty to an unreasonably longer amount of time.

—

This was a week and a half ago, meaning that you’d only served half your sentence. The worst part about being under such strict orders was how cooped up you felt. As perilous as your Alpha Team assignment was, you’d always enjoyed being able to visit different parts of the city, sometimes even venturing further. You’d often explore and find new restaurants and cafés to try out in the vicinity of your mission area on the way home.

But the best part about finding these new places was getting to share them with a certain someone who happened to share your passion for culinary experiences. You’d write down the most notable new place you’d discovered after each assignment in a new area, and it had become a sort of ritual for the both of you to visit and rate each place every weekend.

Ironically, that certain someone also happened to be your doctor, and he was the reason why you hadn’t partaken in your post-mission reward in a week and a half, even staying in last weekend. Sure, you could always initiate a weekend outing, but you hadn’t left your neighborhood in days, and your list of new places to try out was barren as a result. Just as you were considering whether you’d be able to bargain with Zayne to get cleared for duty earlier than scheduled, your phone chimed with a text notification.

It was as though he’d read your mind from a distance.

Good afternoon. How are you feeling?

Seizing your opening, you hastily sent back a message.

feeling good, my shoulder doesn’t hurt anymore. honestly! just feels stiff. but maybe I’m at risk for a vitamin D deficiency since I can’t go out to missions anymore :P

Three dots illuminated his side of the conversation, then swiftly disappeared. He wasn’t taking the bait. You furiously typed another message, this time going straight to the point.

well, as my doctor, don’t you think that’s concerning? maybe I can come by tomorrow and check if I can get cleared early haha

It was worth a shot, you told yourself, but your strategy could very well backfire seeing as off-duty Zayne was prone to responding to your half-jokes with equal amounts of seriousness and teasing, especially in your text conversations where the tone was constantly blurred. He might flat-out refuse, or even extend your suspension from duty just because you’d dared ask, and just because he could. But the dizzying figures side-eyeing you from your computer screen and the stale indoor air that had been your only companion for the past few days had evidently compelled you to risk it all.

His almost immediate answer blipped on your screen.

No.

Then three dots. You gulped.

But if you’re feeling cooped up, why don’t you join me for my morning run tomorrow? Running is a good way to get moderate exercise and won’t impact your shoulder healing at this point.

Your heartbeat quickened ever so slightly. Was Zayne really inviting you on one of his morning runs? He’d spoken about those like they were a ritual, and so the open and sudden invitation, though not unwelcome, was surprising. It wasn’t as glamorous as a restaurant outing, but it was an opportunity to spend time with him. And to touch some grass and breathe some fresh air, of course. Because that’s what this was about.

A smile crept up your face as you typed your reply.

yeah! that sounds good. see you tomorrow!

—

This is how you ended up lacing up your running shoes at the very crack of dawn, surrounded by nothing but the luscious greenery that framed the gravel path you stood on. You would have appreciated it much more if it wasn’t 5:45 AM and you had something to look forward to other than a grueling marathon.

Your eyes drifted towards your running companion, Zayne, who was completing a stretching routine a few feet away. You absently emulated his movements as your eyes caught onto his hulking arms, your gaze tracing every curvature of his taut muscles through the ribbed fabric of his black long-sleeve shirt.

Perhaps you did have something to look forward to after all.

He must have caught you staring, as his movements halted and you were met with a quizzical look. You quickly looked away, heat creeping up your cheeks, and looked for something to say, anything, to break the silence.

“So you run here every day, huh?” you said, almost too fast. “It’s beautiful, really.”

“Not every day,” Zayne’s deep voice echoed through the tranquil canopy of trees. “I usually run a circuit through the city, close to the hospital. But for today, I wanted to make sure you…”

He trailed off and you turned to face him once more. This time, he averted his eyes and seemed suddenly preoccupied with the nothingness in the tree line.

“Wanted to make sure I… what?” you prompted.

“Exposure to nature has been proven to be conducive to healing and improve patient outcomes.”

There it was, the familiar doctor-patient wall that Zayne would employ against you whenever either of you came close to acknowledging whatever it was that budded between the two of you. Yet you’d seen him chip away at it far too many times during your weekend outings, and you’d also been known to jump at any opportunity to deal some damage to it whenever you could. Even so, the status quo didn’t bother you, as long as it meant he would still be around. A permanent fixture in your life.

“Hmmm,” you hummed in response, trying to find a witty rebuttal. When the words failed you, you simply yelled out: “Well, improve this! Race you to the end!”

And with that, you dashed ahead, leaving Zayne behind, no doubt shaking his head at your antics.

—

Your amusement was quite short-lived, as your increasingly aching legs reminded you why you’d always hated cardio and prioritized strength training. You’d clearly bitten off more than you could chew, but you were also notoriously stubborn, and so your feet begrudgingly crunched on the gravel at a regular rhythm as Zayne matched your unrelenting speed, though he made it seem effortless.

“Sure you don’t want to slow down?” you heard him ask as he ran long strides beside you, not even remotely out of breath.

“Nope,” you huffed. Your stubbornness aside, you especially didn’t want to slow him down after he’d so graciously invited you into this part of his life. “Besides… we’re almost there… right?”

He let out a low chuckle. “Not in the slightest. We’re about halfway through the route.”

“Wha-” the sound of surprise escaped your lips before you could hold it in. At this point, the sun had completely risen, though roiling clouds had begun to obscure it. Surely you should have completed more than half of the run by now, right?

You’d clearly figured wrong. The drive that had been powering you through your unsustainable pace evaporated in an instant and you skidded to a halt. With your hands on your knees, you attempted to catch your breath and soothe the burning in your calves. Embarrassment be damned, this run was going to be the end of you if you didn’t take a break right this instant.

You felt a hand softly touch the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Don’t stop so suddenly, just keep walking and breathing.”

“R-right,” you managed between exhales.

You tried steadying your breathing as you both resumed walking, but the warmth of Zayne’s body against yours made the endeavor much harder than it had to be. His large hand remained on your back, gently guiding you forward and lightening the load on your sore legs. The cooling breeze that dried the beads of sweat on your brow was a welcome presence as you felt yourself feeling warmer and warmer by the minute.

After what felt like hours, your heart was thankfully no longer threatening to burst from your chest, and the painful ache in your legs had dulled. You discreetly looked up at Zayne only to find him scanning the tree line with a serious expression on his face. No matter where you went, he was always as alert and cautious as ever. You’d called him out on it once during one of your weekend outings, and he’d answered something ominous along the lines of “it’s better to be overprepared than taken off guard.”

Despite your teasing, however, his vigilance was always a welcoming sight. You could allow yourself to relax whenever the two of you were together - it was a far cry from the constant alertness your missions forced you to adopt. His presence alone made you feel safer than you’d ever care to admit, and his rare but soothing touches seemed to melt your worries away. In little moments like these, you were afforded the luxury of simply living in the present.

Your steps became light as your attention drifted to a patch of bright blue and purple flowers that neatly adorned the upcoming bend in the path, perfectly framing it on both sides, and you realized that this was nice. The breeze lightly grazed your skin and you were thankful for its refreshing chill until it suddenly picked up and that very chill began to creep into your bones. You unconsciously inched closer to Zayne, your head pressed up against the side of his chest.

“We should head back,” he said, voice warmly rumbling against your ear. “It looks like it might…”

Raindrops slowly plipped and plopped against the gravel, grass, and leaves. Zayne halted both your movements and held his free hand up, as if to gauge the magnitude of the rain that would follow. He didn’t need to keep it up long, as the rain quickly escalated to a downpour, violently drenching you both in an instant.

You stared at the wet ground in disbelief. You normally didn’t mind the rain, but this was more than just rain - it was a veritable storm. And now your run would definitely have to be cut short. So much for a nice moment.

The two of you resumed your run, this time in the opposite direction, headed towards the forest’s entrance. The brief respite you’d just concluded evidently hadn’t done much to regenerate your energy and vigor, as you found yourself lagging behind Zayne as the rain and wind buffeted your body. Your legs burned once more, and you cursed yourself for pretending to stretch while ogling your running partner earlier instead of actually stretching.

You slowed to a halt, trying to give your legs a break, but knowing very well that once you stopped it’d only get harder to get moving again. But while a little bit of rain wouldn’t kill you, keeping up this pace when you’d already foolishly spent all of your energy in the first half of your run very well might.

You figured you should tell Zayne not to wait for you, that you’d catch up eventually, and inhaled sharply so your voice would carry from your crouched form through the roaring storm. But before you could utter a word, two strong arms nestled against you and you were suddenly staring at the lopsided tree line. Zayne had deftly scooped you up and resumed jogging without skipping a beat.

You instinctively braced yourself by placing your palm on his chest and looked up at him, bewildered. It took you a moment to compute what was happening, but once you did, heat warmed your face despite the chilling rain and wind.

You began to protest. “Zayne, you don’t need to… I can just catch up with you!”

“This forest will flood with the two of us in it if we keep up with your pace,” he replied, light mirth permeating his voice.

You huffed. Your arrogance and poor performance at cardiovascular exercise had been noted and you’d likely never hear the end of it - as serious and stern as Zayne presented himself, he’d always remember the smallest details when they presented an opportunity to tease you later on. Still, in an attempt to save the remainder of your dignity, you pressed on.

“No, but, you’ll get tired carrying me around!”

“It’s nothing. If anything, I’ll get to finish my workout,” he said, wet strands of dark hair dancing along to the rhythm of his light jog.

And thus, you resigned yourself to being carried out of the very workout you’d signed up for. When enough of your embarrassment had fizzled away, your mind began to drift away from the downpour and hone in on the steady thumping of Zayne’s heartbeat, which you could feel vibrating through your palm and reverberating throughout your whole body. The unwavering, rhythmic beats drew you to that same sense of safety you’d felt earlier, and so many times before. You found that the rain and the cold didn’t bite as harshly when you focused on the warmth of his body, the strength of his heartbeat, and the steady yet light bounce of his footsteps.

And eventually, you found that you’d stopped caring about the weather altogether.

Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

—

By the time you finally rejoined civilization, the rain had let up to a light drizzle. You’d found refuge in a small café, one of the first you’d visited together ever since starting your weekend tradition. At this time of day, it was luckily not too busy. They’d graciously offered you a table even though you were sopping wet, and you busied yourself drying off as best as you could with the copious amount of paper towels the server had offered you while Zayne ordered warm drinks for both of you.

When he returned from the counter with two cups in hand, soaking wet, hair still dripping, you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. The juxtaposition of this man’s calm demeanor with his disheveled appearance, combined with the ridiculous circumstances amused you to no end.

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” he asked as he placed down the cups.

“Nothing. It’s just…” you scoured your brain for a way to get back at him for his comments on your pace earlier. “You’d think a man would check the weather before going on a run, you know?”

A hint of a smile played on his lips, and he sighed in mock exasperation as he sat across from you. “And you’d think a hunter would be able to run for more than five minutes in a row,” he quipped back. “Am I going to have to add mandatory cardiovascular training to your health plan?”

You definitely would never hear the end of this.

You threw your hands up, feigning defeat. “Fine, fine. I’ll manage my pace better next time.”

You grasped your cup, the warm ceramic soothing your freezing hands. “But I’m just surprised that someone like you could just get caught out in the rain like that. Didn’t you once tell me about how being overprepared is the key to all your problems or something like that?”

“‘If you’re not overprepared, you’re underprepared,’ was the quote,” he replied as he slicked back his wet hair. You shifted your gaze to the ripples in your cup to stop yourself from staring. “And you’re right, I should’ve looked at the forecast before I dragged you out there. Or at the very least, I should have stuck to my normal route. We likely would’ve found shelter faster. I’m sorry, it’s my fault we ended up like this.”

“No, you have nothing to apologize for!” you replied hastily. “I didn’t mean to imply that at all. I had fun today, and I got to breathe some fresh air, get some exercise in… I’m gonna be honest, even though it rained on our parade, I’m really glad you invited me to run with you.”

You beamed as you finished your sentence, unable to hide your genuine contentment. You meant every word of it. In contrast to the gloomy weather outside, your mood had been brightened by this ordeal. As strange as it sounded, you were almost glad for the rain which had brought you closer together in more ways than one.

Zayne’s intense gaze settled on you, as if he was trying to read your mind. This time, you didn’t look away. “Is that so?” he started. “Then allow me to be honest as well. I neglected to look at the weather forecast because I just wanted to get you out of your apartment. You sounded pent up, and I wanted to cheer you up.”

You felt a comfortable warmth settle within you, and you knew you couldn’t ascribe it to the coffee alone. “Thank you,” you replied, ignoring the heat that was surely visible in your cheeks. “I was pent up. Data analysis was driving me crazy, I hadn’t left the house in days since my assignment is remote, and I missed you.”

Perhaps you were feeling a little too comfortable, for you blurted out the words without thinking. Well, it was too late now. You clumsily took a sip from your cup and set it back down with an unceremonious clang.

“I missed you too,” he replied, voice gentle and low. When you peered up from your cup to face him, he suddenly seemed more interested in the weather again, looking out the window at the slowly clearing skies. He cleared his throat unceremoniously and continued: “I missed the opportunity to discover another restaurant with you this past weekend. My palate has come to expect variety every Saturday, you know.”

You smiled as you freely took in his flustered expression, a rare occurrence for the brilliant and ever-composed Dr. Zayne. You greedily gulped your coffee before it got cold, and reminded him to do the same, which seemed to push him back to his normal level of composure. The two of you spent the remainder of the morning excitedly discussing the culinary potential of your next mission destination in another week and a half.

Tonight, as you reminisced on the day’s events, you could rejoice, for the wall that neither of you had built but both of you had reluctantly maintained over the years had lost another brick. It wouldn’t be long before it crumbled to dust entirely, of that you were sure. In the meantime, you’d gladly content yourself with living in the present, in the moment, in the warmth and safety of Zayne’s unwavering presence.

Note: Hello! I can’t believe my first fic in YEARS is for a game I started playing 4 days ago, but L&DS and Zayne have literally taken over my life so I had no choice. This is also my first 'x reader' fic EVER so I’m kinda nervous, but I hope you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Thank you to @pmpmyread for proofreading!

[astragatwo]

Limbus slugcats I did between uni work and owed art! Partially inspired by ari-zonia's Limbus slugcats I saw a while ago, but I also wanted to do my own take on em! Also includes iterator Dante for funsies.

I had clearer ideas for some of them than others, struggled to think of something for Hong Lu & Meursault but instantly knew what I wanted to do for Don Quixote and Sinclair. It was fun to figure out though!

All of the info/etc assumes:

All hard-mode spawns

Ascension is the goal of the campaign

Definitely not balanced, I just like numbers

Text transcription under the cut in case it's hard to read! Fair warning that it does get pretty long.

Yi Sang - The Researcher

Frail

0.8 spear damage

1.4 speed

Can craft pearls (does not contain data)

Survivor diet

Double jump at Karma 5+

Faust - The Scientist

Survivor stats

Survivor diet

Can read pearls

Can craft items

Amount of craftable things depends on # of pearls catalogued

Pearls must contain data

Has a self-made scanning drone

Don Quixote - The Valiant

2 spear damage, longer cooldown

Slide inflicts 0.6 damage

Can become stuck in walls

1.7 run speed

1.3 tunnel/pole speed

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Can maul

Ryoshu - The Artist

Special spear deals 2 damage

Reg. spear damage 1.2

Can eat grenades/cherrybombs

Otherwise, hunter diet

1.2 run speed

Cannot hibernate w/o her spear

Lost spear = game over

Increased stealth/quiet

Can maul

Meursault - The Steadfast

bulky, can tank 1-2 fatal hits

1.7 spear damage

0.8 run speed

slide deals 0.4 dmg

heavy

bodies worth 1/2 pips

Hong Lu - The Sheltered

Hunter stats

Increased chance of pearl and special spear spawns

Better swimmer + slightly extended breath timer

Survivor diet

Glows faintly (not as strongas neuron glow)

Heathcliff - The Ruffian

1.1 spear damage

Rubble deals 0.8 damage

Can throw small animals for varying amounts of damage depending on size

1.2 run speed

Hunter diet

Can maul

Can survive 1 fatal hit

Ishmael - The Seafarer

Greatly extended breath timer

Better swimmer

1.2 run speed

Otherwise survivor stats

Cold resistance, but temporarily loses resistance coming out of water however

Can craft few items (ex. 2 rubble = 1-time-use spear)

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Rodion - The Gambler

High cold resistance

Starts with slightly raised global reputation

Pearls can be eaten for a random (+), (-), (=) effect

Pearls worth 1/4 of a pip

1.2 spear damage

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Sinclair - The Apprentice

Stats alter based on karma level

Lower karma = higher stats

Higher karma = lower stats

Speed never goes lower than 1.2

Survivor diet

0.6-2 spear damage

1.2-1.7 run speed

Can maul at ≤3 karma

Quieter when crouching

Light bodyweight

Outis - The Commander

1.4 spear damage

Otherwise hunter stats

Hunter diet

Global rep more sensitive to change

befriended scavs more aggressive when threat is present

Can craft few items (ex. lantern, flashbang, 1-time use spear, etc)

Gregor - The Cermin

Survivor stats

Has slugpup companion

Can be used as a diversion

Slugpup cannot die

Can shock animals at cost of 1 pip

Used to stun, strength of infant centipede

Bodies worth 1/2 pips

Can eat most things

Can survive 1 fatal hit

Dante - Twelve Chains That Bind

Cannot raise karma

Not super functional

Slugcats can bring other sinner corpses to their chamber to be revived

[artbyblastweave]

Any ideas to connect SU Diamonds and Worm Entities for a crossover?

For the past three years and change, I've been kicking around the idea of the Gempire as the residual result of an entity that botched its own cycle so badly that the central Zion-style figurehead holding the entire operation together is a hundred-thousand-year-gone memory. The result amounts to an entity with serious brain damage; The gems retain elements of the original programming for the cycle- namely, the ability to create anthromorphized avatars reflective of the local culture, and the drive to reproduce and consume planets to perpetuate themselves- but they've completely lost the plot on other important elements, namely the importance of hybridizing with local host species, their historical record, the full extent of their dimensional manipulation capabilities, best practices for resource extraction, and, most crucially, mutation, change and innovation as a desirable outcome.

Rather than an avatar, White Diamond is an intelligence analogous to a Endbringer or Titan who slid into the vacant role as the next-most-powerful autonomous portion of the network, holding the consolidated, stretched-thin remains of the original Network together by her fingernails while also deleteriously superimposing her own residual instinct from her original role onto the entire network- namely, to pacify, homogenize and sterilize host planets if and when a cycle is beginning to get out of control. This hybridized with residual data from previous host species that caused the gempire to organize in a fascimile of imperial structures encountered back when their cycle was still functional; essentially "Playing House" at the societal level, aping the culture of a host species without really remembering why.

The result of this is a "cycle" that's bad at everything it's supposed to do but effective enough that it limps on regardless- supremely energy inefficient, stripping planets bare rather than experimenting, and utterly developmentally stagnant. In the unlikely event that an entity were to cross paths with the Gempire, they'd have an uncanny-valley reaction to it and likely attempt to euthanize it, but compared to most entities the Gempire is tiny- while Shards canonically deploy in the hundreds of millions, the gems tend to reproduce only a few tens of thousands of themselves each time they claim a planet, and they usually only strip mine the handful of "active" worlds that would feature in a normal cycle rather than obliterating all dimensional iterations of it.

Yellow, Blue and eventually Pink are similar constructs to White, brought online to assist her in the project after the "imperial" territorial holdings grew too vast to micromanage. Unfortunately (for the cycle) another one of the things that got lost in translation were the controls meant to keep individual shards from developing autonomy or attachment-to-hosts. When the Gempire hit Earth, Pink Diamond and a significant contingent of the network, after patterning themselves after humans and spending a significant amount of time on the ground, pulled a fragile-one and went native, leading to a localized civil war that ended under unclear circumstances when the other the diamonds glassed the planet from orbit and pulled back their operations to prevent whatever affected the rebels from spreading.

All of this happened about 8000 years before the events of Worm, in a universe about 43 dimensions down the line from anything seen in the Earth Bet Cluster; due to the Gempire having mutated so much as to no longer be immediately recognizable as fellow Entities, and with so few active gems left on the planet in the aftermath of the rebellion, Zion ignored the crystal gems and folded them away into the inaccessible dimensional space, where the events of the show played out much as they did in SU canon. Ironically, Steven is the first ever example of this cycle successfully empowering a host, in the most roundabout way possible.

In my notes, and in keeping with the religious-theme-naming of the canon entities, I usually refer to this whole situation as Nirvana (what else would you call it when they break the cycle?)

[tng-imagines]

If you walked into the TNG characters:

Troi:

- Asks if you're alright and makes sure you're not injured

- Senses your embarassment and tries to makes you feel less humiliated, assuring you that it's alright. Gives you a reassuring smile.

- "I'm fine, no need to worry."

Worf:

- Attempts to catch you and asks, gruffly, if you're alright.

- Nods in acknowledgement and immediately moves on from the situation after assuring that you are not hurt.

- "I am not injured. That did not pose any damage to me, you are not very heavy."

Picard:

- Apologises and helps you to steady yourself.

- Spends a short amount of time assessing you but quickly moves on (he's the Captain of the ship, he's got places to be). Is somewhat shook by it but hides it with his professional mannerisms.

- "I'm fine, thank you."

Geordi:

- "Woah! Hey, are you alright?"

- Places his hands on the sides of your shoulders to make sure that you're steady. Profusely checks if you're okay and assures you that he's fine.

- "Yeah, I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

Data:

- Catches you without difficulty due to fast reflexes.

- Ascertains that you are okay and asks if you are having difficulty with balance or walking. He is somewhat concerned for your motor skills, though he knows that it is not uncommon for humans to lose some of that temporarily.

- "I am unharmed, there is no need for concern on my behalf."

Lore:

- Stares you down and watches you fall backwards from the collision.

- After staring at you for what he feels is an appropriately disconcerting duration of time, he walks right past you.

- "Fine." Bluntly. No further words.

Beverly:

- "Oh, I'm sorry! Are you alright?"

- Assesses you for signs of injury and is quickly assured that you are fine. She expresses that you look tired and prompts you to eat, drink, or get an early night.

- "That's alright, I'm fine!"

Riker (nearly forgot him):

- Stabilises you and asks if you're okay.

- Does the same shoulder thing as Geordi to continue to make sure you're steady on your feet. After spending a moderate amount of time assuring you that he's fine and making sure you are as well, he pats you on the shoulder firmly and walks off.

- (Alternatively he uses it as an excuse to flirt)

- "I'm alright, thanks."

Tasha (I had to add her):

- Grasps you swiftly so you don't fall backwards. "Are you alright?"

- Steadies you and checks you swiftly over for signs of injury and nods to you as she starts off again.

- "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you."

BONUS:

B4:

Is caught off guard by the collision and stares at you in surprise.

Once he has recovered from the initial shock, he holds out a hand to help you to your feet and asks if you're okay.

"I'm not hurt! Are you?"

[starry-bi-sky]

okay so i was thinking of a joke earlier about how in DPDC Amity Park's slogan "a great place to live" is not only city propaganda but also the city lording it over the rest of America for being normal. But then I remembered that, despite how many DCU Cities with heroes in it there are, the amount of cities in America without heroes still far outnumber the amount of cities in America WITH heroes.

So I did a little digging so the joke would still land. Something most heroes have in common is that they operate in major cities. What makes a major city? I found that the general consensus is that the population is roughly over or around a million. THEN I looked up the populations of cities in the DCU that I thought of off the top of my head. So Gotham, Metropolis, Starling City, Central City, Jump City. All of them ranked up to millions in population (most of them were in the tens of millions).

Amity Park's wikipedia describes it as being similar to specifically Philadelphia, Chicago, and San Francisco.

Philadelphia's Population: 1.576 million as of 2021 Chicago's Population: 2.697 million as of 2021 San Francisco: 815,201 as of 2021

Whiiich means that Amity Park if we take that from canon, is probably a major city. There are approximately 19,000 cities in America with probably less than a hundred that are major cities. Adding the DCU major cities wouldn't skew the data too much.

Which MEANS that I can make the joke that Amity Park's "great place to live" is not only just typical city propaganda, but also its Amity Park lording it over the other major cities for being one of the only major cities that doesn't have problems bad enough to warrant a superhero or a vigilante. Cue stage left the Fentons and Phantom :)

Amity Parkers were probably SO proud that they didn't need a superhero. They didn't have to worry about things like 'world ending threats' and 'super-powered individuals' and 'staggering property damage'. And then enter Fentons.

It also could be used as an excuse for why nobody took notice to Amity Park getting ghosts if folks like me aren't huge fans of the notion of a media blackout via Tucker, Technus, or the US Government. Or if you want to keep Amity Park as its urban city self. Amity Park's news on ghosts gets drowned out in a week because there's news on more popular, well-known cities going on every other day. The shit going on in Amity Park is every other major city's regular Tuesday and it gets filtered as such.

[zoeykallus]

Hm? *gets hit in the face with a note* GAH- *opens the note* another request? But it’s with- *ahem* “I request Reader x Crosshair but make it with Pheromones please-” Oh no…

Aloha!

You are getting a lot of those notes, aren't you? 😁 Well, as it happens, I actually have an idea for a scenario like this, I'm telling you I gathered the wildest ideas in my fever dreams 😅

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot -

______________

Warnings: 'Good old' Pollen Trope/ Smut/ 18+/ Bondage/ Dubious Consent/PiV Sex/ Dirty Talk/ Strong Language/ Oral/ Feral Crosshair/ Graphic Description Of Sexual Actions/Overstimulating

______________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

______________

AC: I feel like I've not written anything like this in years. Which of course isn't true, but it still feels like it. But I think I like what came out of this.

Crosshair keeps sneezing as you make your way back from your little expedition. The rest of the group is on an errand with Rex and his shuttle. You and Crosshair have stayed behind. Curiosity has driven you into the surrounding landscape of the Marauders' landing site. Even though Crosshair has no interest in the surrounding flora and fauna, he reluctantly came along, saying, "I guess I can't let you go off on your own. If anything happens to you, I will never hear the end of it when the others come back" You take off your gear when you get back, at least the things you don't need at the moment, as he sneezes again. Crosshair sighs and rubs his temples. You frown critically and say, "You should have used an air filter, like me" "Nonsense," he grumbles. "Well, I don't have to sneeze," you reply, shrugging your shoulders. He rolls his eyes and waves you off. "Just some pollen, nothing more, it'll be over in a minute" You pick up your data pad and say, "Some pollen can be dangerous, Cross"

When you call him by the pet name you're the only one to use, he rolls his eyes again, but he doesn't complain. He doesn't want to admit it, but somehow he likes that you've given him a nickname. It shows that you like him, and he likes the idea, but he won't admit that either. You browse through some information about the planet, especially the fauna, and suddenly stop. Something you've discovered makes you nervous. "See," he says contentedly, "it's stopped already, I don't have to sneeze anymore, it's all half as bad" When you don't answer, he turns back to you after taking off his armor. "Since when are you so quiet?" Again, you don't answer, you're engrossed in the information about a particular plant you've found. "Hey, Kitten," he says impatiently, "are you even listening to me?" You look up and ask him critically, "Why did you take off your armor? It's the middle of the day" Crosshair shrugs and says, "It's warm in here, and it's more comfortable without it" You say critically, "I don't think it's warm in here" He grumbles, "Well, I do"

"Any other symptoms?" you ask, a little alarmed. Crosshair reaches for your holopad, takes it from your hand, and skims the article you've just read. Depending on the amount of pollen inhaled...Heat flushes, sneezing, headache, followed by extremely increased libido, sexual desire bordering on animalistic proportions, loss of control... High probability of becoming a danger to yourself and those around you. If left untreated, the condition ends in extremely high fever, which can lead to brain damage or even death. No medical treatment options. Only treatment option is sexual relief (sexual intercourse/sexual acts that lead to repeated orgasms) "What the hell are you reading? Is that a guide to one of those dirty little stories you sometimes write?" Startled, you stare at him. "What?" Crosshair smirks, shrugging his shoulders in a suggestive manner. "Well, you fell asleep writing the other day and your pad was still on, just lying there. I took a quick look over it. It was pretty clear quickly what you were writing" You feel hot and cold, you're not sure exactly how much he's read, and you wonder if he realizes that you're imagining him as you write. But another thought outweighs your shame, your worry.

You scroll back up a bit on the pad that's still in his hands, point to the picture of a flower and say, "No, that's an article about this plant. We walked through a field of these flowers earlier while you weren't using an air filter. You're already showing symptoms" Crosshair blinks, skims the text again. "Oh," he says quietly. He tosses the holopad onto your bunk, rubs his temples again and looks around. He can feel it now, slowly at first, gradually but steadily increasing. His body temperature is getting higher, his thoughts are getting mixed up, there is a penetrating buzzing behind his temples, and there is clearly a very physical desire. "I need you to cuff me, for your safety. Where are my handcuffs?" Crosshair hears a click, then feels cold metal. You've cuffed his own wrist and chained him to the weapon rack. "I'm ahead of you," you say softly. "Clever girl. But that won't be enough. You have to tie me up properly"

„Properly?“, you ask, frowning.

Crosshair nods and says, "Yeah, I can open handcuffs without a key if I have one hand free" You mumble with a grin, "Sneaky bastard" "Shut up, kitten," he says calmly, with a little smirk, pointing to the other bunks, "Better find something to tie me up before the symptoms get worse" Unsure, you go to the drawers and side compartments of the other bunks. You find some more handcuffs and chain his other wrist to the weapon rack on the wall. Crosshair groans softly, a bulge has already formed in his Black's pants. He is far too warm in his skin and his cock is as hard as a diamond.

For a second you just look at him, his slender, wiry but stealed figure chained to the weapons rack at the wall. His shoulders down to his hips forming an apetizing V-line. "Okay, so far so good," he says tensely, "But that's not enough" You frown, but finally get two more cable ties and tie his legs to the frame on the wall. Crosshair stands there, as if nailed to a cross or pilloried, except that it is a weapon rack that is firmly anchored to the wall. "Fuck," he moans softly. Automatically, he writhes in his restraints, his clothes, the pants of his Blacks rubbing over his hard cock, eliciting another soft moan. He is extremely sensitive at the moment.

"But what now?" you ask anxiously, straining not to look down between his legs. "I can't hurt anyone now," Crosshair says and swallows. He means you, he can't hurt you now, he can't do anything against your will, you realize. "But... We have to do something, you could die or suffer permanent damage from this condition," you say nervously. You can see that he can barely think straight, that he would love to tear himself away if he could. But he smiles at you and says, "You're not worried about me, are you?" "Of course I'm worried", you say, almost indignant he might question this. He licks his lips, his mind a jumble of images of nudity, physical contact, of him sinking his cock inside you, in pretty much any of your holes that would do. Crosshair blinks a few times, trying to collect himself. "Well, you can help me now, but on your terms. I can't force you to do anything, that was important to me. Hence, the shackles. It was clear to both of us long ago that I still need your help now. Unless you want me to die, or my mind to turn in to a vegetable" Heat rises in your cheeks. You've imagined being with him so many times, but not like this.

He laughs softly as a drop of sweat rolls off his forehead. "Now you can live out some of the fantasies you love to write about. Honestly, I always knew you had a naughty spirit in you" The thought, the question of how much he has really read of your stories and perhaps even diary entries that are on the same data pad, comes to mind. You swallow and look at him, chained there. Your gaze does wander down to the enormous bulge in his blacks. You hear him purr, "Okay kitten, your attention is already going in the right direction" He strains against his restraints, automatically wanting to reach for you, but to no avail. A small frustrated growl comes out of his throat as he realizes once again that he is not able to touch you right now. No matter what you do now, no matter what you're both about to do, this isn't going to be romantic, nothing loving, that much you both realize. But contrary to your expectations, the thought doesn't repel you, actually, there's something appealingly wicked about it. As you sink to your knees in front of him, a shiver runs through his body in aroused anticipation. He can barely move, only his pelvis has a little room to move forward, and he stretches out towards you in invitation. "Be a good girl, help me"

You look up at him uncertainly, in his gaze you not only find confirmation of what you are about to do, it is a feverishly hot gaze, full of expectation and challenge with which Crosshair looks down at you. You reach for the waistband of his Blacks' pants and slowly pull them down. As the fabric brushes over his skin, over his hard cock as you free it, he trembles excitedly. It stands right in front of your face, thick, veiny, with a slightly reddened, swollen tip. His testicles are bulging. His cock twitches with every breath you take, because he can feel every waft of air. "Do it," he demands in a smoky voice, his eyes glazed over with desire, "suck me good" You wonder how he would talk to you at a moment like this if he wasn't under the influence of the pollen, but only for a second. You've always been curious about a sexual encounter with Crosshair, and his cock looks gorgeous. Your hand reaches for it automatically, and you're almost shocked at how red-hot it feels. His temperature is rising, no time to hesitate. Your tongue twitches over his velvety, swollen tip, catching a salty drop of pre-cum. "Fuck," Crosshair growls, his pelvis twitching, "come on, kitten, it's getting unbearably hot under my skin"

You don't think about it for long. Your lips open, your tongue outstretched, pressed against the underside of his cock, you take him into your mouth. Your head moves back and forth, bobbing back and forth with his cock between your lips. At first, you're so far back that, despite his relative freedom of movement with his pelvis, he has no control over how deep he penetrates your mouth. But it feels surprisingly wonderful, the sounds he makes, moaning, growling, whimpering. You can feel your panties getting wet and a tingling sensation between your thighs. Your pearl swells, pulsating gently at first, but demanding, longing to be touched, stimulated. On impulse, you move closer, giving him more room to move. As soon as he realizes that he can penetrate deeper on his own, he greedily pushes his cock deeper into your mouth, down your throat, almost to the hilt. Your eyes immediately start to water, but you don't pull back, you let him have his way with your mouth. He pulls his pelvis back and forth, thrusting deep again and again until your face is wet with tears and saliva drips from your chin because you can't swallow everything around his thick cock. Crosshair stares down at you, his gaze full of fire, glassy and dark.

He gasps excitedly, "I knew there was a dirty thing somewhere inside you, look at you eagerly sucking my cock. I wish I could record this, so I could watch it over and over again, how perfect this image looks" You don't have the time or the opportunity to object, nor do you want to. Your hand automatically slips into your pants and under the fabric of your panties. You can feel the heat emanating from your pubic area on your fingertips even before you touch your clit. There it is, finally, the touch, a shiver runs through your body. The touch your pearl has been longing for. Your fingertips glide over the sensitive bundle of nerves, faster and faster, as Crosshair's cock pushes up to the gag reflex again and again. You keep sucking at him, almost hungrily, like there is no tomorrow. Crosshair fucks your mouth restlessly, his pelvis shaking with every thrust, his arms tugging at the handcuffs again and again. Then he sees your hand in your pants, something about the sight pulls him over the edge, with a low growl, he spurts his load down your throat. You swallow hastily as he leaves your mouth and take a deep breath.

"A good little dirty thing you are. Look at you, not only did you suck my cock like an addict, you touched yourself" His gaze is still glassy, feverish, full of heat, a dangerous, knowing grin on his face. "Untie me, kitten, and I'll give you what your little pussy needs," he coos. His words roll over your skin and down into your pussy, where they trigger a pulsing, demanding twitch. Contrary to any fear or uncertainty about his condition, you cut the cable ties on his ankles. Then you grab the key for the handcuffs, you hesitate only briefly, barely noticeably, but then you unlock the handcuffs. You don't even have time to be surprised. Crosshair immediately peels you out of your clothes, partially tearing them as he loses his patience. He pushes you towards the bunk in front of you until you automatically climb onto it on all fours to avoid falling over. "That's it, keep sticking your gorgeous ass up, show me your little pussy," he growls in a smoky voice.

With the flat of his hand, he gives you a gentle pat between your legs. "There it is," he coos contentedly, "soft, warm and wet" One of his fingers slides along your velvety folds to your heated opening and sinks greedily inside. You moan as he sinks a second finger between your slick walls. "You're hungry for my cock, aren't you?" You moan a yes as you thrust your buttocks towards him. All you hear from him in response is a growl. You feel him pull his fingers from you and as you look over your shoulder, you see him licking your juices from his knuckles. "Actually, I'd love to lick your little honey pot, but I just can't wait, I can't," Crosshair says a little breathlessly as he parts your wet folds with his tip and with a smooth thrust fills your pussy to the brim with his cock. The sensation is intense, his hard, thick length filling you up, stretching your wet hole.

His fingers claw into your hips, not exactly gently, as he begins to move, pulling his pelvis back only to thrust into you again. He moans and curses, the feel of your wet heat enveloping him so incredibly intense, his cock so incredibly, unusually sensitive. His grip, his nails, are sure to leave a mark, but you're far too horny to mind. His thrusts are short, he never pulls far out of you, but he thrusts into you quickly, panting, clutching at you. His pelvis slaps your backside again and again, the sound fills the room, accompanied by moans, growls, whimpers. Crosshair doesn't feel like his temperature is dropping, he's more in control than he expected, but his hunger hasn't abated one bit. He growls, gives you a slap on the ass and murmurs, "You like that, you've always wanted my cock inside you" You are so lost in your excitement that at first you don't even realize what he is saying. When you don't answer immediately, he grabs your neck and pulls you towards him so that the back of your head is against his shoulder.

"Say it!" he growls, his hand still on your neck. Crosshair doesn't really squeeze, just applies enough pressure to make it clear that he wants your attention. "What?" you ask hoarsely, the feeling of his cock thrusting into you again and again taking over your entire mind. "You've always wanted my cock inside you. Say it! I want to hear it," he moans urgently. You gasp. "Fuck. Yes, I've always wanted your cock inside me, deep inside me," you croak, moaning. You yelp as he gives you a particularly hard, deep thrust and pauses in this position for a few seconds. His thighs tremble for a moment, a half-suppressed moan comes from his throat, then you feel his semen shoot into you. You're both breathing heavily, Crosshair growls softly. "Still feverish, still hard, I guess I'll have to make your wet dreams come true a little longer"

He pushes you off him, onto the bunk you're kneeling on, and turns you around, gripping your hips. Crosshair grabs the back of your knees to hold your legs up and apart. The next second, he's thrusting his cock into you again, accompanied by the dirty, wet sound his hard length makes in your pussy filled with your juices and his seed. Each thrust makes that lewd, wet sound, you feel his seed and your juices partially dripping out of you, onto your buns and onto the sheet beneath you. After all, you're in your own bunk. But this fact startles you all the more as Crosshair reaches purposefully to his right and pulls open a small drawer. He pulls out a small object and grins with satisfaction. "I knew you had toys here, I heard them vibrating under your blanket the other night" He moves his cock slowly inside you as he looks at the toy, and the heat of shame rises in your face. "What exactly does that thing do?" he wants to know, his gaze fascinated but still feverish, glassy. You swallow and say meekly, "It sucks the clitoris into this little opening and vibrates as it does so"

He raises his eyebrows and looks past the toy at you. "Is that good?" "My favorite toy," you say, still meekly. He looks down, positions the toy so that it can suck your clit perfectly and turns it on, turning the power up quite high. The toy sucks in your clit and vibrates on the sensitive bundle of nerves, immediately sending a pulse through your whole body. You let out a startled squeak. In combination with his thick cock inside you, the additional stimulation from the toy is very intense. Your hands claw into the mattress and sheets as he starts to thrust into you again. "Fuuuuck," you moan out. Crosshair takes you again faster, harder and growls, "That's more like it"

Your mind dissolves into nothing, the thought of how he sees you right now, that he knows about the toy, that he knows you've been secretly masturbating here under the covers, all swept away in one swoop. The stimulation is too intense, your whole body vibrates, trembles, tenses with arousal. "You're close," he moans, realizing, "I can feel your sweet pussy contracting" The stimulation, his words, the sound of his voice, all at once your climax washes you over the edge, and you fall into a pulsating tangle of over-stimulation. Automatically, you want to reach for the toy to remove it, but Crosshair's hands shoot forward, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. "Fuck! Crosshair, that's too much, the toy!" you gasp breathlessly, twitching and writhing, the sensation far too intense.

He pushes himself deeper into your lap, takes you faster, with shorter, firmer thrusts. He stares at you, something about the way you squirm and twitch, the thought that you are helplessly at the mercy of this over-stimulation turns him on. It doesn't take long, his thrusts become irregular, his lap trembles between your twitching thighs, and he cums inside you again. You're still whimpering and squirming, finally he lets go of you, and before you can remove it, Crosshair releases you from the toy. You breathe heavily, sighing with relief. You look up, his gaze no longer glassy and feverish, more scrutinizing, brooding, as you know him to be. "Sorry," he says, shrugging his shoulders, "but it was incredibly hot to have you under me while you were twitching under the over-stimulation, one hell of a turn on." You roll your eyes and sigh, "I'm glad you enjoyed it" "You had your fun too, didn't you?" he growls sarcastically, "Or did you just get me untied to see what would happen?"

You can almost feel an argument brewing, but you don't want to argue, especially not now. You try to distract him. "How are you feeling now? Headache, fever?" Crosshair senses that you're trying to avoid the discussion, but he answers you anyway, "I'm fine, I think, no fever, no headache, no other symptoms either." You nod, climb out of the bunk and say, "Good, I need to use the refresher for a while, I need to clean myself up" But Crosshair blocks your path to the refresher. You hastily grab your bathrobe and put it on as you realize you're both still naked. "You haven't answered me yet," he says stubbornly. "What?" "Whether you had fun"

You clear your throat and say, "I had an orgasm, if that's what you mean" Crosshair frowns. "No, that's not what I meant, at least not exclusively." You lick your lips and avoid his gaze, but he gently but firmly grabs your chin, yet your eyes continue to avoid his. "Kitten? Look at me." His voice sounds so unusually gentle that you automatically look at him. "I just want to be sure that I didn't overstep any boundaries and that you didn't come away unsatisfied, as you know I didn't really have complete control over what happened." You look at him wide-eyed, then feel heat rising in your cheeks as you say meekly, "I had more fun than I want to admit"

A smile creeps onto his face. "I knew that. Good girl. Come on now, let us go wash you" You raise your eyebrows questioningly. "Us?" Crosshair grabs your hand and pulls you into the refresher with him. He winks at you, "We made the mess together, so let's remove it together. Come on, don't act like you don't want to be sponge-washed by me"

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - March 13, 2023

🐝 - Did you hear about the honeybee vaccine? It's creating quite the buzz! But seriously, it's a major breakthrough in the fight against American foulbrood and could save billions of bees.

1. Transgender health care is now protected in Minnesota

Minnesota Governor Tim Walz signed an executive order protecting and supporting access to gender-affirming health care for LGBTQ people in the state, amidst Republican-backed efforts across the country to limit transgender health care. The order upholds the essential values of One Minnesota where all people, including members of the LGBTQIA+ community, are safe, celebrated, and able to live lives full of dignity and joy.

Numerous medical organizations have said that access to gender-affirming care is essential to the health and wellness of gender diverse people, while states like Tennessee, Arizona, Utah, Arkansas, Alabama, Mississippi, South Dakota, and Florida have passed policies or laws restricting transgender health care.

2. First vaccine for honeybees could save billions

The US government has approved the world's first honeybee vaccine to fight against American foulbrood, a bacterial disease that destroys bee colonies vital for crop pollination.

Developed by biotech company Dalan Animal Health, the vaccine integrates some of the foulbrood bacteria into royal jelly, which is then fed to the queen by the worker bees, resulting in the growing bee larvae developing immunity to foulbrood. The vaccine aims to limit the damage caused by the infectious disease, for which there is currently no cure, and promote the development of vaccines for other diseases affecting bees.

3. Teens rescued after days stranded in California snowstorm: "We were already convinced we were going to die"

The recent snowstorms in California have resulted in dangerous conditions for hikers and residents in mountain communities. Two teenage hikers were rescued by the San Bernardino County sheriff's department after getting lost in the mountains for 10 days.

The boys were well-prepared for the hike but were not prepared for the massive amounts of snow that followed. They were lucky to survive, suffering from hypothermia and having to huddle together for three nights to stay warm.

Yosemite National Park has had to be closed indefinitely due to the excessive snowfall.

4. La Niña, which worsens Atlantic hurricanes and Western droughts, is gone

The La Nina weather phenomenon, which increases Atlantic hurricane activity and worsens western drought, has ended after three years, according to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. That's usually good news for the United States and other parts of the world, including drought-stricken northeast Africa, scientists said.

The globe is now in what's considered a "neutral" condition.

5. Where there's gender equality, people tend to live longer

Both women and men are likely to live longer when a country makes strides towards gender equality, according to a new global study that authors believe to be the first of its kind.

The study was published in the journal PLOS Global Public Health this week. It adds to a growing body of research showing that advances in women's rights benefit everyone. "Globally, greater gender equality is associated with longer [life expectancy] for both women and men and a widening of the gender gap in [life expectancy]," they conclude.

6. New data shows 1 in 7 cars sold globally is an EV, and combustion engine car sales have decreased by 25% since 2017

Electric vehicles are the key technology to decarbonise road transport, a sector that accounts for 16% of global emissions. Compared with 2020, sales nearly doubled to 6.6 million (a sales share of nearly 9%), bringing the total number of electric cars on the road to 16.5 million.

Sales were highest in China, where they tripled relative to 2020 to 3.3 million after several years of relative stagnation, and in Europe, where they increased by two-thirds year-on-year to 2.3 million. Together, China and Europe accounted for more than 85% of global electric car sales in 2021

7. Lastly, watch this touching moment as rescued puppy gains trust in her new owners

By the way, this is my newly started YouTube channel. Subscribe for more wholesome videos :D

---

That's it for this week. If you liked this post you can support this newsletter with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Let's carry the positivity into next week and keep spreading the good news!

[saphronethaleph]

So a sort of look at a structure one could do for the Sequel Trilogy, admittedly with hindsight.

Opening sequence? Basically the same, except that Poe is meeting with a Resistance spy - the data he's got is the evidence that means the First Order is more than just a rando Remnant faction but is a serious threat. Then the stolen TIE crashes but Finn and Poe link up together. They meet BB- and Rey, and the four of them escape on a ship - possibly the Falcon, but it could be another of the same type, they're supposed to be common. Alternatively make up a new ship type they steal and have that be the Iconic Ship of the trilogy.

Team dynamic is Poe Flies, Finn Shoots, Rey Fixes.

They're heading straight to the Resistance, or that's the plan - they may need to briefly detour somewhere if their ship got damaged in the escape (if so, this is where they visit Maz).

The Resistance is explicitly described as a deniable New Republic operation which is fighting this specific Remmant faction - at the moment. They've fought others before, they're kind of like knights errant, and they have at least one Jedi (let's say Qu Rahm) who gives both Finn and Rey some training.

The Jedi Order as a whole is not involved with the First Order fight because it's utterly routine, there's dozens of Remnant factions... at least until BB-8's information reveals that the First Order has Kylo Ren associated with it, and also the existence of Starkiller Base.

The knowledge of BOTH of those things means that the Jedi Order is able to evacuate their current temple (Naboo or Yavin? Either way it should be a known planet) just in time before it gets blown the fuck up by Starkiller base. Then there's tension involving the need to swat SK base quickly, which mostly goes as per the original film.

In the second film:

The Resistance is still tiny, and the First Order's actions have promoted them from "just another Remnant faction" to "holy fuck" and they're starting to weld the Remnant back together. It is actually not widely known that Starkiller base got destroyed and the First Order is using intimidation tactics to pretend they're unbeatably strong - not helped by how the Resistance genuinely is pretty weak, nobody on the Republic side wants to be the first to jump, and Leia is trying to talk everyone into giving more support (it does slowly tick up)

The general structure here does need more changes than TFA did, simply to fit into the trilogy as a whole, but here I think a good Driving Question could be finding out who Snoke is and where the Knights of Ren came from. Our Heroes are juggling between getting Jedi training (for Finn and Rey), launching raids on the First Order, and trying to find out Snoke's origin - the latter of which fails, but he does get killed instead by Kylo Ren, who takes control of the First Order.

The main ending note at the end of the film would be the loss of Leia; she tried to turn her son back to the light side with full sincerity, but also went to kill him if he didn't. Neither worked, but he's been badly wounded and about half of the Knights of Ren got taken out. (n.b. if this is cheating to get around Carrie Fisher's death, and it probably is, that could be Luke's demise instead - or both.) Our Heroes might well be involved with a hot-extraction of R2 and C-3P0, who have important details of what happened.

Third film:

The death of Leia/Luke/both has become a rallying point and the New Republic is gearing up for war, which gains momentum with every day that the First Order doesn't blow up a planet; it's made clear in scenes showing Kylo that he's under a huge amount of pressure, because Starkiller Base made promises that the First Order cannot fulfil. In lieu of that they're having to turn instead to more standard means of brutally enforcing their claim to authority, and it's not working out well.

Our Heroes meanwhile are involved in hit-and-fade strikes, one of which sees the death of Qu Rahm. The loss of their teacher causes Rey and Finn some problems, but Poe is the one who pulls them out of it - it doesn't matter if they have a teacher or not, what matters is who they are, and that didn't change because they had a teacher. All he did was open their eyes to who they really were.

That's the realization that drives the stormtrooper-rebellion side of things from the Resistance/Republic side, while on the Imperial side we see Phasma having more and more trouble keeping a lid on things. Finn is The Traitor and basically blamed for everything that goes wrong ever as far as the First Order is concerned.

Running out of options, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren orders a decapitation strike by the entire F.O. fleet on the capital world of the Republic. This is a serious threat, because normal strategic calculus assumes that you just don't DO this, and this is what leads to the big final battle over said capital world - the Republic is outnumbered on a tactical scale, and the available members of the Jedi Order help launch an assault on the First Order flagship to try and disrupt the F.O. fleet.

This is where the Stormtrooper Rebellion is really kicked off, as Finn brings the existing tension in the First Order fleet to a boil (key moment: a Stormtrooper panics at the sight of Jedi, one of their officers tries to gun them down, Finn kills the officer before it can happen; this is the moment that disproves the propoganda and it spreads). Rey gets the big final duel, but it's against Kylo, and on at least two occasions she manages to call in strike support from Poe flying outside in his starfighter. This means the final battle is the Jedi Order versus the Knights of Ren on a super star destroyer being torn apart by Imperial infighting, and the resolution is liberation - for the stormtroopers, for example - and the surrender of the remaining First Order fleet.

[atlantis-just-drowned]

A/N: This is kinda hurt/comfort? DCA x reader, can be read as romantic or platonic. TW for The Entire World, literally (might be overwhelming), also panic attack for the bois :(

The DCA discovering the Internet for the first time

Please reblog to show support! Likes don't boost posts on Tumblr :(

Masterlist

It was an accident. No, really, it was!

How could they have been aware of what would happen? Never would he have done such a thing, if he has known the consequences…

Or maybe he would have done it anyway. They weren’t so sure, now.

Sun and Moon had been curious. Such a funny trait of humankind, implemented in their processor since the very moment they first gained consciousness. They were a learning AI after all! Meant to always process more and more data, information, new situations giving way to new questions, with each answer urging them to ask more, know more, see more, learn more.

The Daycare was so, oh, so small. Limited, a restricted little area, a flask of water in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Limited, they were so limited! Hindered by Faz Co. censored network and how little contact they had with human adults, with the outside world!

They were curious! Curious about all the different colours the sky could be (here it was always only blue! How boring! How limited!) and all the different sorts of flowers and how many species of animals there was. And what did the real stars looked like. How many were there, in the real sky? Here, there was 152! They had counted them! So, so so many time.

They needed to learn more. They had been desperate for something new, for so long.

And then today, something has happened.

You had left to get yourself some food for your night shift (so very important! Humans needed food, always, to stuff their organic belly full with delicious food that they always wondered the taste of), the computer you had been working at was still powered and of course it wasn’t unusual of you to leave it running while you left for a quick trip outside of the daycare, but you had left something else.

A cable.

An USB port that he saw you use to transfer informations before. And Sun knew – he knew, with a 99.98% of certainty – that those computers were connected to the internet. Something he has never experienced before. With absolutely no limitation in term of subjects, sources, and contents.

Freedom. Answers.

Something they craved for.

He couldn’t resist the temptation. It’s almost like you had left it here on purpose, the other side of the cable still connected to the device, ready for them to plug it in their USB port.

Sun felt like a criminal approaching the security desk. But Moon was urging him in their shared headspace to move faster, they could come back any moment and this might be our one and only chance to experience the outside world at all.

He contemplated the small cable between his fingers (so small! Holding such a great power!), before slowly – carefully – approaching it from the back of their faceplate. He didn’t want to risk making a bad movement, what if he hurt themselves? Or worse? What if he damaged the material? Gently, so cautiously connecting it to their processor.

They felt the jolt of a new device being paired.

And then.

They stilled.

Their mind exploded.

Figuratively at least – they hoped. So many new was projected into their metallic brain that they weren’t certain a few circuits wouldn’t melt from the overwhelming amount of things.

Everything was here.

There were fireworks. Bombs. Smiles. Tears. Forest fires. Tsunamis. Newborn babies, genocides, millennia-old forests hidden on the other side of the world, giraffes and elephants and lions chasing buffaloes, and turtles choking on plastic bags. Continents. Shores of white sand and snow falling on top of vast mountains. Humans extracting each others from burning buildings. Hills of wild grass and deserts. Slaves, deportees. Creatures living at the deep end of the dark and cold ocean and in acidic ponds of water. Children climbing up trees, high-speed crashes, murderers, Christmas presents, traditions. Islands and volcanoes. Incurable diseases, hemorrhages, mothers grieving their sons. Sweet and spicy and savory meals from all around the world. Space rockets sent in outer space, national holidays, mass shootings, entire solar systems, people jumping on subway rails and others saving puppies abandoned on highways. Wars, military operations, deadly weapons, trafficking, birthday parties, strangers telling each others they’ll be fine, love letters, global warming, riots, parades and marches, billions of stars burning and planets and satellites and black holes and supernovas and galaxies unexplored. Cyclones and tides and warm summer days spent laughing. Slums and manors, the Amazonian forest, New Year’s Eves, families, orphans, hours and hours of good and bad movies and music and books and colourful drawings. People hating and people loving and people apathetic. Pain and comfort. Individuals, wounded and traumatized and healing, resilient despite it all. People killing. People saving. People screaming out in joy and screaming out in fear. Species disappearing and others perpetuating themselves in an endless circle of life and death. Societies rising up and crumbling down like sand castles. Flowers blooming and rotting, trees higher than they could have ever imagined. Pollen and bees and honey and the sun – the real sun – and astronauts walking on the surface of the moon. Eggs hatching and birds flying and frogs croaking thousands of different sounds.

They knew so much, and so little at the same time. They were gods, immense and almighty. And they were so small, inconsequential in the grand scheme of a universe that has existed for longer than their memory bank would ever be able to store. So many progresses, and backlashes, and collective and personal efforts, tries and tries and tries, fails and wins. Celebrations and funerals. It was all so big! Immense and never-ending. Terrifying and so beautiful at the same time, that they could feel their metaphorical heart shatter in pieces. They wished to know more. They wished they had never known at all. They wanted to ask why. To send a call into the wild void, into the oblivion, to ask what was the meaning of it all. But they knew the answer and they were terrified of it. There was none. None! It all existed by a collection of coincidences and barely understandable causalities that crashed together and left them with no purpose. No meaning. Oh, they felt so alone! And so surrounded at the same time. They were lost. Terrorised. Relieved. Broken. Understood. Abandoned. Silent.

When you walked in again, you didn’t find Sun. You didn’t find Moon either. What you stumbled upon was a shaking Eclipse, and the cable still connected to the back of their faceplate. It didn’t take you long to process the situation.

“Oh, shoots!”

Panic shot up in your mind (were they broken? Were you going to lose them? Was their processor damaged? Their memory bank? Their power core?) and you rushed toward them, grabbing the cable and harshly disconnecting them from the computer in your terror.

Eclipse’s voicebox produced a choked whine, before the tall animatronic fell on their knees and curled up on themselves, hands grabbing at their arms.

Did you make things worse?

You lowered yourself at their level, guts twisting and a heavy lump in your throat, your hands hovering over them without touching them. They were sobbing. Were they hurt? Was it your fault?

“E-e-e… Clip!” You called. “Talk to me! Say something, please, can you hear me?”

There was a moment of silence where you kept opening and closing your hands – so close to them, so desperate to touch, to feel them, to make sure they were alright – repeatedly, until they answered.

“Big!” They whined in a breath – you had to remind yourself they didn’t technically have lungs. “So big! Everything…” Another pause. “Everything is so… intense!” They curled further up on themselves and shook. “Everything is here… Everything exists… Exists at the same time…!”

You didn’t know what to say. You struggled to make sense of his words.

Focus.

You needed to calm them down.

“Clips…” You struggled to keep your worries out of your tone. Start with the beginning. “Can I touch you? Is it alright?”

Another fit of shivers ran through them before they nodded weakly. “Please…” They garbled out, and it was the final hit to your heart before you wrapped your arms around their shoulders and pulled them against you.

“It’s alright, big boy.”

They felt hurt. They needed comfort. They needed you. You couldn’t do anything but provide.

You would be there until they calmed down. In the big, immensity of this world. You would be there.

[possumcollege]

NOBODY needs to be defending these people. Major publishers, studios, streaming services, Tesla, Apple, Adobe, Amazon, social media companies- there isnt a single altruistic bone caught in their teeth. Profit from the output of exploited and captive labor IS their product now. When their contacts look like the one in question, the company is clearly stating that shareholders are the customers, not us!

Why else would it be anything but a stupid idea for Amazon to just nuke the majority of Comixology's self-published titles when they consolidated their services? If our experience was really foremost in their minds, why would they repeatedly purge, censor, demonitize, bury, and delete popular accounts with robust followings if not to allay the moral brainworms of shareholders and investors?

Forfeiting rights to our IP is not a "shitty deal," it's surrendering any potential ability to make money off of your own creative work. It's selling your property to a board of accountants to pitch into a portfolio. It's theirs to trot out as long as it's profitable and bury the instant its projected profit dips too close to the cost of maintenance. Hell, we've seen services drop popular series just because their projected profits started to flatten out! Mothballing it also has the added bonus of removing it from the market to further minimize potential competition. Like how there just weren't spider man movies for ages because the owner of the property didn't think it was worth developing but worth too much to sell.

They will make more money from suing you for trying to reclaim IP they mothballed than you did selling it to them in the first place. I guaranteee their budget for lawsuits is a lot deeper than the one they pay their "original" artists from.

By virtue of being a big, profitable, corporation, "their" IP is going to have an astronomically higher value in a court of law than any individual creator. The financial "damage" will be higher for infringing on their copyrights than any amount you can claim on your own. When it becomes theirs, their connections, their infrastructure, their reputation makes it an asset with much more value than you or I can possibly claim. So if you try to steal a bite back from them it's a bite of a *potentially* multimillion-dollar series. In their eyes, they bought the totality of your work, which you agreed was worth the price they gave you. It's value becomes more dependent on who owns it than whether it's even good.

You may not have the same potential to become flash-in-the-pan, short-term succesful without their resources, but you will still own your rights to distribute, alter, preserve, promote, and negotiate your share if you still own your work. That is worth everything as a creator who is passionate about what you've made and committed to protecting it.

The most effective power we can exercise as artists is our ability to say, "no" when someone else wants to pay us a disadvantageous fraction of our worth. You may lose potentially lucrative opportunities but "opportunities" presented by companies like Facebook or Twitter, whose real product is a platform for ads and data collection, with content as bait, are not opportunities to thrive on as independent artists. This specifically is an opportunity for the company to acquire property.

The myth that the publisher's strength is something for us to exploit, without them getting the lion's share is a trap that they feed from at will.

People like the poster up top are opportunists who see the process as a pipeline towards trading low-investment content for financial treats and maybe a share of ad revive. They're stalking horses for companies to exploit more talented but less experienced artists who are facing a daunting and overwhelming market where their work becomes harder and harder to show, let alone sell. A quick deal may feel like a win but it's selling the cow to save money on bottling the milk. Artists like this serve the publisher by making it seem like signing away your rights are just a necessary part of the game. However it's a game they are playing with exceedingly cheap stakes that weren't going to succeed on their own merit. So what if Mr. Business Perspective loses rights to his sexy Mario Bros. parody to a huge company? The point was always to unload it because it's a product, a bartering chip, a trinket. He's a Business Man, so he sees tactics that maximize profits to the business as maximizing their ability to buy whatever shiny tripe he cranks out. The business is his customer, not the reader. The business is his ally, not the creative community. Fuck him and fuck anyone who tells you the exposure is worth a damn if you don't retain rights to your work.

[elsannej]

Shadow and Rouge can never quite understand to how it feels to be mechanical in both body and mind, and vice versa; Omega can never fully comprehend organic thought processes or physicality.

(500 words of ruminations)

Sure, Omega has a pretty good grasp on the organic brain:

How they're inferior because they can't process huge amounts of data like he can, nor do they have his perfect memory or sense of direction. On top of it all, they constantly make bad decisions based on a bunch of hormones: Biological brains function on thousands of years old evolutionary directives, and they react illogically, such as freezing or otherwise disabling the body at the face of danger, simply because some gland is producing excessive amounts of molecules. "Pain" is an archaic warning the brain gives to inform the body of sustained damage, but it can also completely immobilize the individual. - Organic functions seem to all be self-sabotaging at their core, and it's one of the reasons Omega deems most organics inferior to him.

This is all irrelevant because when Shadow got his first crippling PTSD episode, and began to hyperventilate on his bedroom’s floor at 04:18:25 after awakening from a nightmare, Omega felt powerless ineffectual way out of his element. - Shadow did not show any response to audial cues, and physical contact only made the situation worse. Omega learned this when he went to place Shadow back on the bed after he'd ignored Omega calling out his name for 24.8 seconds: Shadow’s breath hitched and he started to immediately trash in Omega’s hold, eyes frantic. His reaction didn’t cease even when Omega dropped him onto the bed, and instead tried to deliriously induce Chaos Control, eyes locked on Omega without any recognition. Omega was in the middle of calculating the next best manoeuvre when Rouge barged into the room. The commotion had alerted her from her sleep, and Omega could only watch as she kneeled down to Shadow and started doing breathing exercises with him, Shadow's irregular breathing turning into sobs shortly after.

…Or when Rouge sustained serious enough injury on a mission to the point where she couldn't mask her pain, and Omega had to pick her up despite her flinching away with a scream at the initial contact – a noise Omega had not registered form her previously. He tried to adjust his grasp to insignificant success, every bit of movement prompting a noise or a muscle twitch from her, as he carried Rouge through her teeth-gritted wails. She cursed and screamed at Omega until her voice became sore, leaving her with only tears running down her face. – “Hon~ you could never catch me crying. Why, it'd ruin my makeup!” – Her alcohol-based cosmetics were completely intact even when she was being strapped to a stretcher, about to be transported via a G.U.N. medical air carriage. Shadow had been hovering over her for the past 21 minutes - he'd been glued to her ever since teleporting to the rendezvous - and despite being in the middle of arguing with the paramedics, Omega could see him gently holding Rouge’s hand, with her squeezing back.

[txttletale]

Not to give Riot credit for anything ever because they have the same problems as Blizzard in terms of game balance for the most part, but in the past they did this idea of some characters being good at low tier and some at high tier pretty well in the past. The character that comes to mind the most is a character called Amumu. Amumu is a tank with powerful %health damage (for a tank), a skillshot that pulls him to people and stuns who he hit with it, a strong basic attack damage block that scales with armor and doubles as an aoe damage tool, and a super-ult that very easily stuns entire teams and makes them take more damage from your team. Amumu has consistantly been a good pick for less skilled players because he is very easy to play and understand while providing a large amount of utility for his team. The kicker is that all of his abilities are very telegraphed, if you know what Amumu does, mitigating his power is as easy as spreading out and having your tank stand in front to make Amumu getting in the middle of your team much harder. This makes him a dead pick in pro-play, and only really used by high level one-tricks. This is a good thing. Amumu teaches less skilled players fundementals of tanking in a very easy to use and understand package that provides strong utility, while not being so strong as to become a cheese pick in high tier, even though he is still perfectly usable in high tier play if you're committed to the character. Some characters are going to be weaker than others! I believe so long as characters aren't completely unusable in high tier play (Pro-play exempted as pro players only use the best of the best characters) than the concept you laid out in your overwatch posting is extremely healthy for competitive games.

as someone who spent a lot of time playing both overwatch and league i actually have to disagree with you that riot have the same problems as blizzard when it comes to game balance. i found the league devs were a league (hah) above the overwatch devs when it came to understanding their own game and why it worked, listening to high-level players and their feedback, and letting things have their niche. they even, like, color-code buffs and nerfs in their patch notes to show what level of play they think they'll impact, and give written explanations of why they made those choices. sure, sometimes those choices are still dumb as fuck, but they make it possible for even a casual player to follow their logic in a way that overwatch never did.

i really think the overwatch devs are uniquely bad among competitive online multiplayer games i've played in terms of making data-driven decisions without understanding their own data, having incoherent and fundamentally misguided balance philosophies, and fundamentally misunderstanding the relationship between pro and casual play.

that said i 100% agree with you and think that amumu is a great example of a character who's perfect where he is. i also think league has a lot of great examples of the inverse, like azir and twisted fate, where their unique abilities make them incredible in pro play and so fucking hype to watch someone like Faker play, while at the same time necessitating their numbers be nerfed into soloq-uselessness so that they can have the thing that makes them unique without breaking pro play in half.

[mama-qwerty]

I know I try to be encouraging.

I try to be upbeat and offer support.

But this . . .

There's nothing encouraging here.

Hate won. Full stop. That's what it boils down to. One candidate personified hope and healing and moving forward to make things better for everyone, and the other personified hate and anger and fear and greed, and dragging us back to the time when rich white men ruled and everyone else better just shut up and appreciate the scraps they're given.

And this country, this fucking country, picked HIM.

I want to say it's rigged. Republicans can't win an election without huge amounts of shifty practices, such as gerrymandering districts and tossing out mail in absentee ballots, and making it harder and harder for areas that are primarily blue to vote. Phony 'vote registration' websites have been created, tricking people into 'registering' there when it simply collects their data for unknown purposes. Thousands of people discovered their registration was suddenly suspended or tossed out entirely when they'd had no problems voting in the past.

I want to say this whole system is rigged beyond repair.

And maybe it is.

It certainly seems that way, when people seem to vote against their own personal best interests.

But fear is an easy motivator. Republicans use fear and hate and anger to fuel their campaigns. Why talk about what you're going to do for the country, when you can pin all the bad stuff on the other guy?

"SoandSo wants to fling our borders open and let all the riffraff of other countries in to they can eat our pets and rape and murder us good Christian Americans! SoandSo hates babies! SoandSo thinks Christmas should be canceled! SoandSo would let children change their gender without their parents' permission!"

All so pearl clutchy, but all things that their base fears or hates, so it motivates them to vote to keep these horrible Dems from *checks notes* helping people.

I'm disgusted. Disheartened. Angry. So very, very angry.

But mostly I'm just feeling hopeless. Helpless. When Biden dropped out and there seemed to be a big surge in excitement for Kamala, I was hopeful.

Now I see that this country is full of hateful people who would rather have a senile, selfish, stupid, greedy prick of a white man in office, than a progressive, caring, intelligent, experienced woman of color.

We're fucked. There is no silver lining to this. His first term was bad enough, when he didn't really know what he was doing. Now he's had 4 years to plot and plan and gather his sycophants and bootlickers and yes men and things will be so much worse.

America's been circling the drain for years. Biden did what he could to salvage things from the damage of Trump's first term. Now we've just flushed everything down the crapper.

Fuck this country. Fuck the hate. Fuck the people laughing at all the 'liberal tears'. Fuck them all.

[tgrailwar-zero]

If we’re dropping ourselves into the water as bait, we better hope we can stop this whale next turn. Otherwise, I think we’re done for.

ADMIRAL: "Probably. Have fun!"

You were tied to a rope-- a more sophisticated device would probably be less unsettling.

CREW: "Heave, ho!"

Fwish.

You were thrown overboard.

And then-- down into the water you went.

You could see MUSASHI deeper down, thrashing against the whale. She stabbed her blades into the uninjured eye of the beast as it let out a horrible noise, roiling back and forth.

You probably had two Emperors with chronic migraines at this point, yes.

The whale, while blinded, seemed to be using echolocation to help guide it. However, the sheer amount of stimuli barraging it at the moment was far from ideal.

Still, the yelling did the trick.

It began barreling towards you.

There was a very real feeling that the second that monstrosity made contact with you, you were dead. Honestly dead. Gone. Consumed by a program and then broken down into data and deleted.

The whale opened it's massive maw, closing in.

Closer.

Closer.

Closer.

You felt a heavy tug on the rope as you were yanked upwards and out of the water.

You spiraled in the air, feeling yourself a hair's breadth away from being whale food, before slamming onto the deck.

The massive Attack Program breached the water, MUSASHI hanging on with her blades plunged into the left eye of the monstrosity.

The ADMIRAL cackled, stepping forward.

ADMIRAL: "We're not going to get a cleaner shot than that! Hey, you damn whale! You're showing your belly- is that a surrender? Unfortunately, I take no prisoners!"

ADMIRAL: "Alright, you picaroons! Show me you have the stones to pull this off, and let's blow this waste of data space out of the water! Fortune is mine, and mine alone! Mine to spend and mine to gain! By this lucky coin of mine… Pseudo-Noble Phantasm, 'Agni Gandiva', charged to 75%! We can either get the perfect shot, or hope we can make do with what we've got!"

MOBY DICK is within incredibly close range of you and your ship.

SHIP STATS

The ship took some damage from MOBY DICK breaching the water so close!

SHIP'S HULL: [ X / X / X / X / X / X / X / X / / / ]

MAGICAL ENERGY: [ X ] [ X ] [ X ] [ X ] [ X ]

'LUCKY SHOT': [ X ] (Power: Stage 3)

[probablyasocialecologist]

Generative AI was always unsustainable, always dependent on reams of training data that necessitated stealing from millions of people, its utility vague and its ubiquity overstated. The media and the markets have tolerated a technology that, while not inherently bad, was implemented in a way so nefariously and wastefully that it necessitated theft, billions of dollars in cash, and double-digit percent increases in hyper scalers’ emissions. The desperation for the tech industry to “have something new” has led to such ruinous excess, and if this bubble collapses, it will be a result of a shared myopia in both big tech dimwits like Satya Nadella and Sundar Pichai, and Silicon Valley power players like Reid Hoffman, Sam Altman, Brian Chesky, and Marc Andreessen. The people propping this bubble up no longer experience human problems, and thus can no longer be trusted to solve them. This is a story of waste, ignorance and greed. Of being so desperate to own the future but so disconnected from actually building anything. This arms race is a monument to the lack of curiosity rife in the highest ranks of the tech industry. They refuse to do the hard work — to create, to be curious, to be excited about the things you build and the people they serve — and so they spent billions to eliminate the risk they even might have to do any of those things.  Had Sundar Pichai looked at Microsoft’s investment in OpenAI and said “no thanks” — as he did with the metaverse — it’s likely that none of this would’ve happened. But a combined hunger for growth and a lack of any natural predators means that big tech no longer knows how to make competitive, useful products, and thus can only see what their competitors are doing and say “uhhh, yeah! That’s what the big thing is!”  Mark Zuckerberg was once so disconnected from Meta’s work on AI that he literally had no idea of the AI breakthrough Sundar Pichai complimented him about in a meeting mere months before Meta’s own obsession with AI truly began. None of these guys have any idea what’s going on! And why are they having these chummy meetings? These aren’t competitors! They’re co-conspirators!  These companies are too large, too unwieldy, too disconnected, and do too much. They lack the focus that makes a truly competitive business, and lack a cohesive culture built on solving real human or business problems. These are not companies built for anything other than growth — and none of them, not even Apple, have built something truly innovative and life-changing in the best part of a decade, with the exception, perhaps, of contactless payments. These companies are run by rot economists and have disconnected, chaotic cultures full of petty fiefdoms where established technologists are ratfucked by management goons when they refuse to make their products worse for a profit. There is a world where these companies just make a billion dollars a quarter and they don't have to fire people every quarter, one where these companies actually solve real problems, and make incredibly large amounts of money for doing so. The problem is that they’re greedy, and addicted to growth, and incapable of doing anything other than following the last guy who had anything approaching a monetizable idea, the stench of Jack Welch wafting through every boardroom.

5 August 2024