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cheol-e-kat · 5 months ago

Text

• random slutty thoughts, feat. mingyu •

the valentine’s day / co-worker crush one

mingyu has sat in the cubicle next to yours long enough to know exactly how shitty your ex made valentine’s day last year, plus he knows you definitely haven’t even thought about a valentine’s date since you just accepted a stack of last minute work, because to quote you, “fuck this pretend holiday”

but he really hopes to change your mind

mingyu’s had a crush on you since you started working in his group, maybe before that even when he would just see you in the break room sometimes

at first he thought you were a bit unapproachable, but the longer he sat next to you, the more he realized you were a really good co-worker and friend - you always have great ideas for projects and you don’t make him feel like shit for not knowing every single thing like most people in the group, plus you’re always happy to grab coffee when he wants to complain about how something personal

he was glad when you had offered to exchange phone numbers so he could message you “just whenever” - it took him a week to finally decide what to send - a photo proving that he really uses the name ‘james’ as his ‘coffee order name’ because he was tired of the misspellings and you would not believe him - you had practically cackled at ‘james’

he was surprised when you asked if he had a date that night, “no, i haven’t really been talking to anyone” besides you, he thought

“at least you won’t be stuck here all night, though,” you smiled, leaning towards your computer to read something

he nodded, “yeah, true,” even as he spoke, he started to poke around seeing if there were any assignments he needed to complete (he knew there weren’t)

“wait, actually, sorry - there’s this part i kind of need help with,” you mumbled from your slouched over position

he blushed and scooched his chair over to your side of the barrier, you had already moved so he could see your screen - he was glad that you seemed to always have problems with excel functions

he started tinkering with the spreadsheet while you read some documents next to him - before he realized it, he was ready for dinner

he leaned back, “want to take a break?” it was a totally normal question

you nodded, “yes, please, I’m so tired of looking at this,” you whispered and then stood up to look around the office, “wow, it’s like a horror movie in here - absolutely everyone is gone but us”

he smiled knowing you mean zombie movies, which you proclaim to hate but still seem to know a lot about

“so what were you thinking?” you asked as you sit back down next to him - he notices when your knee bumps his leg

“hm, how bad do you think the waits are across the street?”

“oh fuck, i forgot, couples out in droves, right?”

he nods, watching you scrunch your face as you start checking for reservations close by - it takes a few minutes but you’re suddenly grabbing his sleeve, “oh my god, if we leave right now, we can just make it to a decent place,” you practically drag him along

the ‘decent’ place is actually really nice, way more than he was expecting, but he was glad for once that he was in dress clothes - he actually looked like he was your date

they seated you in one of the open booths, another couple were right next to you - he had started to look at the menu when you nudged him with your foot, he glanced up to see you covertly glance at the other couple - mingyu almost laughed when he saw the girl’s foot was practically buried in the guy’s crotch and moving at a concerning pace

he blushed slightly at the scene and glanced back to you, seeing the dangerous smirk on your face, he suddenly felt the toe of your shoe press gently to his calf - he was quick to slip a warning hand onto your thigh, squeezing gently

“i think we can do better darling,” he whispered

you looked too game, “oh, can we, sweetheart?”

he wasn’t sure what to make of your sugary voice, but he knew you were horribly competitive (both of you, if he were honest, could be a bit scary at company retreats)

he didn’t hesitate to nod, “of course we can,” he answered in a low tone, his thumb tracing circles against your thigh

when the waiter came back, you both ordered drinks, but he noticed quickly when the other couple conspicuously got up at the same time and wandered towards the bathroom

he sipped his wine, “did they really just go to the bathroom?”

you giggle, “they definitely did”

he swirled his glass gently, “okay, so if we go into the men’s room after them, do we just need to be louder?” he was genuinely asking

you laughed behind your hand, “seriously?” you grinned, “it’s not like we get a peleton this time,” you shoot back, voice soft in a way that makes his stomach flutter

“yeah, but,” he wasn’t sure where he was going with this, “they were annoying, why not be, you know,” he shrugged

“be more annoying, my darling, dearest,” you smiled and covered his hand with yours

he flushed but had a sudden thought, “look if we freak them out, i will literally pay for a full weekend at that glamping place you keep ogling,” he was very serious

“oh, okay, no wait, it has to be the one with the hot tub that overlooks the trees,” you were getting serious

he nodded, “i’ll give you my card, book whatever you want,” he was too sincere

he noticed the slight blush blooming across your cheeks, “you know it’s like a couples thing, right?”

“so, you can book for two and go alone, whatever,” in his mind this was completely reasonable to offer a co-worker who he clearly had just a crush on, especially when he hadn’t confessed

he watched you bite your lip lightly, “okay, but shouldn’t we both go? it’s like a group activity,” he flushed, knowing you’re looking at him much too clearly

“just come on or we’ll miss our chance,” he stood, glancing around and walking towards the bathroom

he pushed the door open and was immediately assaulted with sounds, really wet sounds

he caught you as you walked through the door, knowing you would laugh at the sounds, he pressed his hand across your lips and guided you to the stall next to the occupied one, locking the door

you glance at the stall wall, rolling your eyes at the sudden feminine cry of “oh, baby - yeah, just like that”

you lean close to him, “make it good, okay,” you whisper, your hands suddenly ghosting down his chest and stomach

he’s shocked when you ran your hands down the front of his trousers, “fuck, daddy, show me how hard you are,” you say in a breathy voice as your hands press roughly to his hips

he bit his lip hard to avoid laughing in total shock, “that what you want baby girl, my hard cock filling that tight pussy?” he asked, his voice lower than he expected, even though he was leaning down close, whispering against your throat, obviously in character

“mhmm, yes, i want you so badly - i’ve thought about it all day, daddy - i’ve just been sitting, waiting for you, all wet and ready for your cock”

he paused hearing this, his mouth immediately dry, he could feel your hand working him through his pants

he kissed your throat gently, “daddy’s good little girl, just waiting at her desk, hoping to get fucked,” he nipped your earlobe gently, “my naughty little girl,” he whispered as he bit your throat

he was momentarily stunned when you pulled your shirt down enough to expose your tits and your perfect nipples, but he didn’t even think before he dipped down, latching onto one and then the other, hearing your moans, as he licked and sucked “yes, daddy” - “yeah, just like that” - “fuck, i bet you could empty me”

he leaned up, catching your mouth in a soft kiss, he licked into you, tasting you as he pushed up your skirt, his cock was way too hard at the idea of your full tits

he slid his fingers under the hem of your panties, immediately feeling the slick waiting for him, “oh, baby, so wet for me,” he barely broke the kiss to murmur

he watched your face as he plunged his first two fingers inside your hot, wet pussy - you gasped softly, pulling his hair roughly as you did, “yes, daddy, play with me, you’ve kept me waiting so long,” you whimper as he crooked his fingers to hit the soft spongy spot he knew your ex had never been able to find

he had completely forgotten the other couple - all he cared about was the way you were writhing in pleasure in front of him - that and the way your cunt was clenching around him, it was so fucking tight and already dripping

he pressed close, “come for me baby girl, i can feel you holding back, just let go, make a mess for daddy to clean up,” he whispered

you pressed close, “give me one more finger first,” you breathed heavily against his skin

he was happy to slip his third finger in, stretching you and then scissoring you open too, pressing against your tight walls

you moaned loudly, “oh, fuck, yes - daddy, don’t stop, make me feel good”

he wasn’t worried about how loud you were - it was part of the point, but when your pussy suddenly gushed, “fuck,” he breathed, feeling your juices wet his thigh

he held you close as he he still worked his fingers inside your pussy, you yelped as a second orgasm tore through you, a new splash of hot pussy juices running down his thigh as you shivered with pleasure in his arms, grasping blindly for him, needing him to hold you as your orgasm worked through you

“mhmm, daddy, oh, fuck, did i do good?”

he was quick, “yeah, baby, you’re so perfect, so messy and wet for me,” he pressed soft kisses to your cheek, nuzzling close to you

it was obvious that you were more fucked out than either of you expected - he definitely didn’t hear anything from the couple in the other stall, but he wasn’t especially concerned either

he suddenly turned you around, pulling your back to his chest, as he unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, “still want daddy’s cock, baby girl?”

you nod, “yes, please, use me like a toy, make me yours”

he breathed slowly, lining his cock up with your cunt, he needed to control himself or he would come too fast

he plunged in, pausing to breathe, to feel your slick cunt stretching so wide to take all of him - he listened to your whimpers and soft pleas as you adjusted to being full

but he waited to move - and when he did, he was slow at first, feeling every bit of you squeezing him, wanting him

and when you leaned back, “fuck me daddy, fuck me like you want”

the way you gazed up at him told him everything - that you knew - you already knew exactly how he felt

and so he plunged in, setting a quick pace, not being afraid to snap his hips - he wanted to fuck you raw

and when he felt you clenching and fluttering around him, he pulled you close, holding you tight, and reaching down to work your clit, he gasped at the feeling of your third orgasm, the feeling of your slick against the head of his cock was too much

he came, he clenched his teeth together tightly, moaning low against your skin, his cum filling you, he kept moving, slowly fucking his cum deeper into you

“keep it inside baby,” he demanded, breathless, finally letting you go

you nod with a little smile, “what do i get if i do?”

he laughed softly, shaking his head, and fixed his pants

he helped you fix your clothes, glancing to see how massive your pupils were

he stopped and nuzzled close, feeling nothing but tenderness for you, “want to leave?”

you nodded, holding tight to his lapels, “can we still fuck though?”

he smiled, “mmmh, of course we can baby - we can fuck all you want,” he kissed you softly - he meant every word

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋅˚₊‧ ୨

a/n: happy v day - if you’re not getting fucked tonight, just think of mingyu ^^ we all know he would do it right …every time

♡ kat

tags: @syluslittlecrows

if you want to be tagged, go [here] my [master list] if you want to read more

#svt x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu fluff #kim mingyu imagines #svt fluff #mingyu scenarios #mingyu imagines #mingyu fic #kim mingyu drabbles #mingyu drabbles #mingyu fanfic #kim mingyu fanfic #seventeen x you #seventeen drabbles #seventeen smut #kat_drabbles

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sightseertrespasser · 2 months ago

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"I have a whole other tangent I could elaborate on about Tacnet specifically" Staring at you with big HUGE eyes. I would love to hear the tangent

Alrighty then.

First things first, what is Tacnet?

Sometimes also referred to as a Battle computer, Tacnet is short for Tactical Network and its ostensibly the worlds most demented excel spreadsheet.

In more literal terms, Tacnet is a type of supercomputer.

Supercomputers are incredibly useful pieces of technology. Able to run simulations, predictive algorithms and utilizing real world statistics to essentially speculate the past, present or future. The bottleneck for a regular old supercomputer is that someone has to sit down and manually input all the information necessary for those calculations.

You want to know what kind of gun made that specific bullet hole?

Well first the supercomputer needs the ballistics data off as many kinds of guns as possible, then it needs data on the material that was shot, and it also needs as much information as possible on the bullet hole in question.

You skip out on any of that input and the odds of the supercomputer being correct gets progressively lower.

Problem is, the supercomputer can’t actually think, and therefore can’t estimate how accurate its own calculations are. A computer works in total binary. If it only has the ballistic data for three kinds of guns, it doesn’t matter how much the bullet hole doesn’t match the data sets its been provided, the supercomputer will select whichever of the three matches the hole the most closely.

A computer, no matter how advanced, is incapable of knowing when it doesn’t know something.

But people on the other hand. . .

We turn now to an ambitious young R&D developer many millennia ago.

Once upon a time, this member of Research and Development was on the team responsible for designing new Cold Constructed mechs for Sentinel Prime. And they had a GREAT idea.

“I’ve got it!” They say, unaware of the ominous music rising in the background.

“The great powers of the supercomputer cannot be realized within its current limitations! Its greatest flaws are that it must be stationary, it must be manually fed information and all calculations it does generate must be reviewed by a thinking mech!”

Their coworkers groan. It’s too early in the morning for this shit.

“Therefore!” The mech says, quickly sketching out a box full of smaller boxes that is supposed to be a computer and the miserable approximation of a mech.

“We simply remove the separation, and make the mech itself the data intake for the supercomputer!”

Lightning crashes in the distance, someone tiredly gets the fire extinguisher. Again.

It’s not a hard sales pitch for a totalitarian government to go “Yeah we want super-cops. Here’s the money, make it happen.”

And in a tale as old as capitalism, an untested feature was rolled out with catastrophic consequences.

If you’ve read my tangent on how Crashes work, then you already know about logic cascades.

Tacnet is a supercomputer. A tool. Like any tool, it’s only as good as the person using it, and someone who really doesn’t know what they’re doing is liable to hurts themselves.

So what can Tacnet really do in the hands (or processor) of a master?

Some psychic-type level nonsense. Anyone who’s gotten the hang of their Tacnet, in their own fields of expertise, are able to know exactly what will happen before anyone else.

Let’s compare Smokescreen, Bluestreak and then Prowls Tacnets and how they’re used.

Every Tacnet starts the same, but can be developed and trained to excel at different things.

Smokescreen - Place Your Bets

Smokescreen has trained his to work best for gambling. “Training” can be anything from downloading tables of statistical analysis to personally observing the phenomenon and making notes.

Let’s look at rolling dice. If you rolled a six sided die, any number is equally likely to be rolled. Or 16.67 % odds for each.

So if 3 dice are rolled, then every total value outcome from 3 to 18 must be equal odds as well, right?

Nope! If three six sided dice are rolled, there is a 12.5 % (or 25% if you combine them) chance it’ll be a 10 or 11. And that’s out of sixteen possible outcomes.

So if you know the difference but your opposition doesn’t, then suddenly you have a huge advantage while betting. And this is just the most simplified example I can think of.

If you’ve got the time, statistics are absolutely wild and there’s a mathematical equation for pretty much anything.

All Smokescreen has to do to get good at a game is learn the rules and then plug in the numbers. You know how card counting will get you banned from most casinos? Well Smokescreens worked that out too. Talking to other players (collecting preexisting data points) he can find the average of how much he can win in a night before people get too pissy.

Another thing Smokescreen has going for him (especially over Prowl) is that Smokescreen is much better at reading people. He doesn’t just have statics on the games, but the players.

Mapping out the connections between individuals and taking personal motivations into account, Smokescreen at his peak can not only predict who the winners will be, but he can also predict who will loose on purpose, who will bet the most, who will cheat and who will seek to take their winnings by force.

Experience, experience, experience is the golden ticket.

Also, it’s Smokescreen himself who has to craft the profiles of his victims gambling buddies. Once fleshed out, Tacnet can do wonders mid game, giving Smokescreen room to focus on his social schemes instead.

Luckily, after the burning of Praxus, most people don’t really know what a Tacnet is truly capable of. So Smokescreen looses just often enough to keep folks from realizing that he always knows how every game will play out before they even start.

Bluestreak - Shoot Your Shot

Going in the opposite direction of utility, Bluestreaks Tacnet is all about kinetic calculations.

This fucker is doing the type of math that’s more letters than numbers. Constantly.

Air resistance, velocity, acceleration, gravity, weight, density, temperature, vector, displacement and time.

There’s equations that call for each and every one of those factors, usually in combination.

Your average sniper, even a good one, is usually considering wind speeds, the pull of gravity and the distance from the target when lining up a shot. Bluestreak is taking in all that and then working out the influences of about 15 more factors on top of that. Even before he’s picking where exactly on the target he’s going to hit. Since remember, if he’s got data on not just his own weapons but his enemies defenses, then it really becomes as simple as “would you like them disabled or dead?”

Aim is no longer a question of ability, but an equation to be solved.

Still, physical capabilities does play a part since a steady hand goes a long way towards realizing those calculations.

Tacnet may crunch the numbers, but Bluestreak is the one who has to find all the details relevant to the shot and pick which ones to feed to the machine.

Additionally, Bluestreaks Tacnet in particular has the experimental feature of massively increasing the amount of sensory data he can take in per second, effectively causing him to perceive things in slow motion. This is less something Tacnet is doing, and more a case of Bluestreaks own processor utilizing the bandwidth normally taken up by Tacnet.

Tacnet itself takes a substantial amount of power to run. Normally, it causes problems by siphoning too much power from other systems to do its job (see logic cascade crashes). But Bluestreak has the funny little quirk of somehow doing that in reverse. So when his sense of time dilation becomes maxed out, Tacnet isn’t running the formulas to help him shoot anymore, it’s just Bluestreaks own skills at that point.

Outside of that rare circumstance, Bluestreak is effectively playing with aimbot in real life.

Prowl - Know Your Fate

So we’ve established that Tacnet is powered by mathematical formulas and data collection.

What would happen if someone just, kept going? Kept feeding it? Building up more and more infrastructure for Tacnet to grow around until it has a point of reference for almost anything?

You get an oracle.

Prowl puts the Tactical back into Tacnet. He’s essentially the Jack of all Trades and Master of several of those subjects actually.

Sure, Smokescreen has him beat for behavioral analysis, and Bluestreak is leagues beyond what Prowl can calculate for trajectories. But no one has doubled down on what Tacnet can really do like Prowl has.

You know that (not actually true) statistic about how humans only use 25% of their brains? That’s your average Tacnet user.

Prowl just happens to be insane.

He is constantly taking in new data. He is constantly taking notes, making observations, stripping it down to the raw numbers involved and packing it away into monumental resource centers for Tacnet to refer to.

You ever see someone who’s really good with excel sheets and then see them do some shit you didn’t know excel sheets could even do?

It’s kinda like that.

If you’ve ever read the classic Sherlock Holmes stories, a lot of what makes Sherlock so effective is having such a detailed knowledge of the world around him.

Let’s go back to the bullet hole analysis.

Prowl could look at the bullet hole and tell you after two minutes: “It was this specific Cargo vessel at this time with an illegal weapon.”

From the outside, this looks like a baseless guess. But to Prowl it looks like this:

a) The gun must be a new imported weapon as nothing he currently has on file matches the marking its made in that kind of material.

b) The shooter not only missed their shot, but was shooting downward at an excessive angle. Indicating this was a very large mech firing downward at a much smaller target, likely a mini bot.

c) The shooter can be exactly tracked by looking at the local registry for recent out bound flights, specifically ones with no cargo.

Why? Because the shooter is most likely a transport shuttle. Easy access to imported goods, very large but not a war frame (hence the missed shot) and having failed to kill their victim, would flee town immediately without waiting to take on cargo.

Of those two minutes it took, he spent 1:30 waiting for the flight records to load so he could look up the name of the shuttle.

Scale those skills up to a war room, and Prowl not only knows why an enemy troop is retreating, but where they’re retreating to, what losses they must have taken and whether or not it’ll be worth it to finish the job.

Prowl isn’t smart because he has a Tacnet. Tacnet is OP because Prowl is that smart.

When I write his perspective, Prowl often has an accuracy percentage attached to his calculations. Tacnet isn’t the thing making those estimates. Prowl is the one judging how accurate Tacnets suggestions are.

Dudes just a freak.

—————————

In summary, Tacnet is like if you had every kind of calculator in your pocket and the only limit was how many equations you’ve added on and the amount of information you can feed it.

That last bit is the biggest challenge for Tacnet, as conflicting or flawed data can cause. . . Issues. Aka Logic Cascades. Aka “Why can’t I make it make sense.” Disease.

Let’s just say there’s a reason not many people know what Tacnet is capable of, as a lot of early Praxian Enforcers could be taken out by confusing emotions, plot holes, and particularly well executed magic tricks.

Doesn’t exactly inspire confidence when your new shiny police force can be hospitalized by watching Back to the Future 2.

Being one of the first Cold Constructs built with a Tacnet, Smokescreen figured out how to mostly get around that glitch early on and taught Prowl and Bluestreak how to do the same. In this particular setting, Tacnet is poorly understood and best kept mostly secret for those reasons.

(Bizarrely, between Tacnet and the radar uses of doorwings, Prowl and his brothers would actually be really good at predicting the weather.)

———————————————————————

Bonus bit: Good fucking lord it would absolutely terrifying if you could somehow combine Smokescreen, Prowl and Bluestreaks skills into like a Tacnet hivemind or something.

Though with wing speak, to an outsider that’s probably what it already looks like.

———

The three brothers look at the same bullet hole, silently communicating in a way the local non-Praxian officer couldn’t pick up on.

“Oh yeah, looks like Rotor didn’t like Brick cutting into his half of the dirty money. Slippery little guy but you can find both their hideouts here and here.” Smokescreen, the eldest, pulls up a map for reference.

Prowl is already out the door, Bluestreak is lining up a shot through the window.

“What is he. . ?” The other officer looks from Bluestreak. Then to Prowl, trailing off, “Where is the other one. . ?”

“Oh Prowls off to arrest the shooter.”

“But he’s a grounder, can’t Rotor fly?”

A shot rings out.

“Not anymore!”

#asks #fun times #Tacnet you strange strange thing #world building #the Datsun brothers are out hear like the thre Fate Sisters #except they all got scissors #Prowl is basically Cassandra

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ssa-dado · 3 months ago

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Hi! So following up from your (incredible) breakdown of Hotch's apartment, I've always wondered why stayed in the apartment to raise Jack after Foyet/100 and I'd love to hear your thoughts about it!

Obviously, his and Haley's marital house was out after everything but the same apartment he got stabbed in is wild to me and to then to Jack who was held hostage by the guy who stabbed Hotch by the dining table? I get if it was for security with less points of direct entry but Foyet got in??? Is there a garden or green space for Jack to play in? Does Hotch do a background check on all new tenants?

Anyway, this is not anti-apartment slander because I happily live in one myself but I'm so interested in why Hotch would since he clearly has the means (Rolex watches are not cheap lmao) and this feels like the right platform to discuss it haha what do you think?

Breaking down Hotch's apartment layout until someone from Criminal Minds slides into my DMs with the damn floorplans: (The Empire Strikes Back)

I’ve thought about this a lot (maybe too much) and I honestly believe Hotch stayed in that apartment building for a mix of reasons. It’s not just one thing. Maybe one factor weighed heavier than the others, but ultimately, I picture him doing one of those classic pros and cons lists, like the fussy man he is, and letting the whole picture guide the decision... does it make sense??

Now, if we look at the architectural typology of his building, we know it follows a comb-plan layout - meaning it features two semi-enclosed, semi-public green spaces that are open toward the street. (I even made a little sketch to visualize it because I’m a visual learner... Like, I don’t know what “Hotch’s hands” means until I see them. Someone please send references...pls???)

That said, the green spaces aren’t the reason he stayed. Sure, the building has them, but they’re likely shared among all tenants, mostly decorative, and maybe even off-limits in terms of actual use (some buildings do that.. yikes). Plus, they’re super open to the street, which means they’re not really safe or private enough for Jack to play in.

So I don’t think the green spaces themselves were the selling point.

I think he stayed because of the overall architectural quality of the building. It's a historic structure (from mid 1920s-1930s??) that’s been carefully restored, updated with 21st-century systems and amenities, and built with high-quality materials and finishes. Maybe there’s a park nearby where Jack can actually play safely. Maybe it’s closer to his school. It also doesn’t strike me as a suburban area, which could be another plus - city life offers access to public transportation, shops, cultural spaces, sports activities… all of which might've played into the decision.

I am so so so so here for this headcanon and I fuck so much with the background check idea because yes, he absolutely asked Garcia for help and no, he doesn’t think that was an overstep. It was a precaution. For Jack.

Also, I’m convinced he’s very active in the tenant community.

He’s the one who created the condo group chat - no one asked him to, but it’s impeccably organized, with pinned messages and!!! a color-coded spreadsheet of recycling days (I'm European, this is wired into my DNA, sorry) he made himself at 3 a.m. on Excel. He barely answers texts from his team, but the second someone reports “unusual noises near the trash chute,” he’s replying in 0.3 seconds with “What time? Which floor?”

Sure, he’s fussy about noise (especially when he’s actually home) but he’s also the one everyone turns to when the building manager starts power-tripping or the garbage hasn't been collected. You’ve got a broken washing machine? Hotch already emailed the landlord and the building’s legal obligation clause. Trash not yeeted? He’ll yeet it himself. The man has a complex Google Drive dedicated to tenant rights #prosecutor!Hotch

I will die on the hill he is a chatty grandma. Sure, he’s serious, but he knows everyone’s business, and somehow people trust him with their extra keys and gossip. He's fbi, he's cunty, he has great hair... hello???

(Like, you knock on his door and say, “Sorry to bother-” and he’s already saying, “Your cat escaped again? He's in apartment 127, do you need anything else?”)

Another reason I think he stayed in that apartment is because, most likely between s3 and 4, he started spending some time there with Jack. I’m not sure how the co-parenting with Haley worked logistically, but I can easily imagine him having Jack over on weekends when he wasn’t working, or at least trying to carve out that time. And that apartment became part of Jack’s routine, part of what "home" felt like to him, Hotch probably couldn’t bring himself to move.

I don’t think Hotch stayed there for himself. Psychologically of course, it’s not the healthiest choice (he was literally stabbed there by Foyet) but it is the best choice for his son. And unless you’re talking about his job, Jack always comes first.

And Hotch… Hotch always comes last.

I think he bottled everything up. I don’t even think he fully let himself consider that the apartment might be an unhealthy place to stay in. If the thought of moving did ever cross his mind, I’m almost certain it wasn’t about him. It wasn’t “I don’t feel safe here,” it was: What if someone breaks in again? What if Jack’s here? What if it happens when I’m not home?

He stayed because Jack knew that place. Because changing homes again would be another loss. Another shift. Another instability. And Hotch would rather carry the weight of that trauma alone than risk making his son feel displaced.

Sooooo... yep. That's it. I guess.

Thank you so so so so much for the ask!!! I'm so so so curious to know what are YOUR! thoughts!!

#ask phi #hotch's dream home #archi phi #aaron hotchner #phi mansplains architecture #some headcanons made its way into the post... sorryyyyy #Hotch x tenant!reader (me) when???

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conclaveyaoi · 13 days ago

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tumblr blog conclaveyaoi does not support any type of self-defined AI-generated material in this fandom, images (never to be called art because it isn't art) nor AI-writing (which isn't writing either). I'll never reblog or like it and whenever I see it on the eg. giulio sabbadin tag, I am extremely annoyed this is taking the place of the art from the fantastic artists and writers I have the privilege to see and interact with in this corner of the internet.

by the same token, tumblr blog conclaveyaoi has seen fantastic artists and writers be falsely accused in a witch hunt type of AI-accusation with no proof whatsoever and does not believe this is the efficient way to prevent the AI-generated slop. accusations can only stand with evidence and they have no weight without evidence. yeah, law degree and kafka fan here. a witch hunt leads to hurting the fantastic artists and writers who are then being unfairly accused of something they haven't done. this is not the same as calling out the self-defined AI-generated material (not art because it isn't art), I repeat, going around eg. the giulio sabbadin tag. there is evidence in the self-defined AI-generated images seen in that tag and I don't support any of it.

on the other hand, I've seen an artist I really enjoy being falsely accused based on a random "hunch" which I found very concerning. this is what I mean by witch hunt. if accusations = facts then we might as well leave the fandom because it'll become a battlefield of 'ragebait' people accusing actual artists and writers with no proof. not liking a fellow conclaver who doesn't use AI doesn't give you the right to make false claims without evidence. innocent until proven guilty exists because anyone can be an unfair victim of false accusation, which has always made my blood boil. in the exercise of keeping AI away from creative spaces, we cannot be hurting fellow conclavers, artists and writers because it's simply not fair to actual artists and writers (which needless to say does not include AI-users).

there is no room for AI in creative spaces. there is no room for AI in my blog because I'll never reblog AI-generated images or texts. my reblogs and my art tag are for the fantastic artists I see in this fandom, never AI.

to the person who generated the AI content in the giulio sabbadin tag and anyone in this fandom who uses AI: there's no room for your stuff in my blog. none. I don't want to see AI in the tag of my blorbo either. or in any tag. I am anti-AI for a myriad of reasons and when it comes to creativity it is firstly based on principle. it is in honour of the great Miyazaki and the late David Lynch, two of my heroes. it is in honour of ars longa vita brevis. because you took your time to justify it on conclaveconfessions, I kindly ask you to educate yourself on the tool you're using, on the political scale of the issue (especially in the US at the moment) and on the infuriating environmental damage you're causing in the middle of a climate crisis that affects primarily the most socioeconomically-vulnerable communities around the planet by your senseless AI use. technofascism is here already, it's scary and we are all just one tiny corner of the internet in the middle of a gigantic problem. still, as part of a creative space, we must stand up for art and uplift the actual artists and writers. if we don't have that, we might as well be numbers on an excel spreadsheet.

on behalf of justice, no witch hunt with false claims against actual artists and writers. on behalf of art, let's keep AI away from creative spaces and not support AI-generated material. both? both.

once again for the people in the back: this blog does not support the self-defined AI-generated material that I've been witnessing in the giulio sabbadin tag. of all tags, right in my boy's tag...

#conclave 2024 #conclave #giulio sabbadin #anti ai

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vampirejuno · 6 months ago

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Remember that discworld dream I had the other day? Well, lads.... I wrote it. At the encouragement of @catstrophysics, @lilenariinpink and @theygotlost, I present to you...

Something Fishy

His Grace, His Excellency, Sir Samuel Vimes the Duke of Ankh, Blackboard Monitor, sighed emphatically and tried to shoulder his way through the throng. Sator Square was packed with people. Never before in his life, he reflected, had he ever seen such a crowd turn up at six in the bloody morning to watch what was, essentially, a man tossing a dead fish onto the ground. Is this what passes for entertainment these days? he thought bitterly. We used to be a great city when it came to entertainment. After some further consideration of past greatness, he stopped, shook his head, and silently offered praise to whatever god was responsible for making sure it stayed in the past.

It had been a little over a month since the Fish Craze, and already Vimes wished he could permanently ban the import of all seafood into the city. Nobody remembered what had started it, but the fad had spread faster than wildfire, with no fashion-brigade to stop the madness. Everyone had taken it up. Even perfectly reasonable people, the kind that sneered at their grannies for fretting over a broken mirror, would, in all sincerity, say things like, “Thank goodness for another Right Day, I could use the luck”, or, more frequently, “No wonder it all went tits up, it was a Left Day”.

Vimes failed to see the appeal. The whole process consisted of taking a fish (preferably a sardine, though most made do with herring or, in desperate times, even anchovies), tossing it in the air, and checking which side up it landed. At first, everyone did it individually. This had led to much disagreement and, eventually, an event that would go down in history as “Most Organic Weapons Riot”. The watchmen who’d been on duty that night were given two days off to try and wash the smell out of their uniforms.

The following day, the Patrician had announced the instatement of an Official Fish Thrower, which soon turned into “the Offishal Tosser”, or simply “the Tosser”, and whose entire job it was to go into Sator Square every morning, toss a sardine for the city, and announce to the enraptured masses what sort of day they were going to have. It was rumored that the Tosser was a retired magician who had specialized in sleight of hand, and that he ensured the fish always landed precisely according to the Patrician’s specifications. Knowing Vetinari, Vimes thought, the man probably has a spreadsheet planned out for a month in advance.

His musings were interrupted by a current of movement in the crowd, which parted hastily to reveal a figure with a tray.

“Right Fish! Get your Right Fish! Guaranteed Day goes Right! Turn your day ‘round with just one toss!”

Vimes sighed. Only one man would try to sell you fish at the Offishal Tossing.

“Morning, Throat,” he said distantly. There was a commotion at the front of the crowd as people tried to dislodge someone from the Tosser’s podium. It looked like an Omnian preacher had taken advantage of the audience to spread the good word to the unenlightened masses, whether they liked it or not.

“A good morning to you, Commander! Can I interest you in some nice sardines? Three for tuppence, and that’s cutting my own throat!”

Vimes risked a glance at the tray as Ankh-Morpork’s least successful merchant approached him in a hopeful sidle. It was laden with row upon row of little strangely misshapen fish. Picking one up and turning it over in his fingers, Vimes saw the reason for this. Someone had taken some pains to cut them in two lengthwise, discarded all the left halves, and rejoined the things by gluing two right halves together with some mysterious sticky substance. He put it back down and inconspicuously wiped his hand on his trousers. Like many of Dibbler’s products, it was precisely what you paid for.

“Sardine? Seems more like smelt to me.”

“Yes, very fragrant, indeed,” said the merchant without missing a beat. “Perhaps some fish’n’chips, then, Commander? Only ten pence for our brave lads in the Watch!”

I don’t think I’m that brave, Vimes thought. Aloud, he said, “Is that where the left halves go, then?”

“I don’t know what you mean, sir. Ah, hello, miss, you look like you could do with a nice nourishing breakfast! Some delicious fish’n’chips to start the day off right, how about it?”

The crowd was so packed now – hah, like sardines in a can – that Vimes gave up all hopes of pushing through it. Most of these people had turned up early to get a good spot and were now whiling the minutes away until the much-awaited Tossing. There was a conversation taking place just behind him, where an argument of Morporkians was standing around, doing what it did best. The current object of ire appeared to be a young man’s drawling voice, which was questioning Tradition.

“-don’t see why we couldn’t put a new spin on it. This is…too restrictive, like.”

“How’s that, then?”

“It’s just awfully specific, is all I’m saying.”

“What are you babbling about, Harold?” responded a higher, slightly irritated voice that instantly filed itself away as “unhappy wife” in Vimes’s copper brain.

“I mean, why’s it got to be a sardine? Why not a, uh,” the young man cast around for seafood-related ideas, “a crab, or something?”

“Come now, that’d never work,” a stout little man next to him laughed good-naturedly. He was smoking a pipe and had the look of someone who used words like “indubitably” and “perfunctory” despite only having a very approximate idea of what they meant. “Crabs are not remotely suitable for the task.”

“Oh, is that right?”

“Well-known fact,” nodded the crustacean connoisseur. “Divination is congenitally tied to the noble art of fishing, you know. It’s called forecasting, after all.”

There were more nods and approving laughs. The man puffed on his pipe with a chuckle, clearly satisfied with the pun. Vimes managed not to punch him.

“Y’know, that sounds about right. Never ‘eard of someone telling the future with a crab,” an old woman nodded wisely. “You never know where you are with crabs. Now, fish, that’s reliable.”

The group pondered this.

“Look at it this way. We’ve had, what, twenty-three Left Days so far – not counting Floppy Friday* – and every single time, somethin’ bad happened.”

The others murmured their agreement. There were several thoughtful comments recounting various misfortunes that the participants had suffered on past Left Days. Vimes pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is Ankh-Morpork, something bad is always happening.”

“Right, that’s what I’m saying,” nodded the young man, who hadn’t been saying that. “Besides, plenty of perfectly good fortune tellers in the city. A man tossing a sardine on the cobbles is not a valid method of divination, in my humble opinion.”

“Harold, you are embarrassing me.”

“Oh, come off it, Mathilda, you got by just fine without any of this business for thirty years of your life. Now it’s all Sardines this, Herring that, Why don’t we get an ornamental trout lake-”

At that moment, the Offishal Tosser stepped onto his little podium, and the couple was shushed into outraged silence.

* * *

“Come on, before ol’ Stoneface gets here. You know he doesn’t approve of this sort of thing.”

The Pseudopolis Yard watch house was buzzing with excitement uncharacteristic for six in the morning on a Wednesday. Most of the night shift had signed off and the day guard were trickling one by one into the main room. An ever-growing group was clustered in a vague circle, in the center of which Corporal Nobbs could just be made out (if that was your idea of a good time). The men all had the vague air of middle school students asking their teacher about his dog in order to delay math class by another five minutes.

“Might that have anything to do with the fact that, last time, it took three hours and a bucket of armour polish to get the smell out of the floorboards?” Angua smiled. It was a very friendly smile.

“Right, sarge, but… We-ell, you’re…”

“Yes?” The smile widened.

Constable Fernsby shifted uncomfortably. There were a few sniggers. It was true that werewolves had considerably sharper senses than humans and would therefore be able to smell a fish long after it had departed the material plane, but, the sniggers seemed to indicate from a safe distance, you didn’t go around pointing this out to them. Fortunately for the boy, he was saved from any further smiles by a very timely interruption in the form of the Captain.

“Good morning! Everyone had a nice rest, I hope? Ready for another day of work?”

Carrot strutted in, wearing his usual genuine smile and gleaming armor. There was a not-so-subtle change in the atmosphere; a sudden nonchalantness enveloped the room. All around him, the squad commenced their very best impression of the Walls And Ceiling Inspection Division. One or two of the simpler lads even clasped their hands behind their backs and started to whistle**. Carrot sighed.

“Alright, what did you do?... And don’t look at me like that, I can see something smells fishy here.”

This was greeted with one or two coughs and a sudden interest in last night’s heaps of paperwork. Only Lance-Constable Whippet, who had joined three days ago and was, therefore, not yet acquainted with the minutiae of his commanding officers’ tempers, and sergeant Detritus, who could be a little slow on the uptake, met the captain’s inquisitive gaze. Finally, he looked to Angua for help. She shrugged meaningfully.

“Well… er,” said Sergeant Colon, who felt obliged to make some sort of contribution on behalf of his insubordinates, “we was just…engaging in some…cultural activities, captain. To boost morale for the day, like. Er.”

Carrot sniffed at the air – never a very good idea in a watch house, where, at any given point in time, half the men had just returned from patrolling and the other half were emerging from the locker room – and understanding began to dawn.

“Ah, I see. And I expect, Sergeant, that such…team-building activities are best carried out without the involvement or presence of, say, senior officers?”

“Could be, sir. I’m sure you’d know best, sir.” Colon’s big round face was a picture of cherubic innocence.

“Well, in that case, I believe Sergeant Angua and I have a case to attend to. Corporal Thighbiter up at Dolly Sisters needed some help with that Money Trap Lane break-in...”

“Actually, he just sent word the other day – it turned out Mister Mason had got drunk and lost his key again and crashed through the oomph-” Constable Ping bent over slightly from several democratic elbows in the ribs. With a true officer’s tact, Carrot feigned temporary deafness. He held the door for Angua, who detached herself from the wall with one last pleasant smile that could’ve cut steel, and the two stepped out briskly into the safety of fresh air***.

After they had gone, the squad waited a few moments and then turned back to the center of the room, where someone had dragged a mysteriously stained stool from the canteen when the kitchen lady wasn’t looking. Corporal Nobbs was shuffled towards it with extreme care.

The little man**** dusted himself off and scrambled onto the rickety stool. As the other watchmen leaned in closer, he reached into the unspeakable depths of his inner pockets and, with a certain air of ceremony, produced…

“A sardine!”

“Cor, is that real?”

“Dat a very small fish.”

“Where did you get it, corp?”

Nobby basked in the approving murmurs of his colleagues. It had, indeed, been a challenge to find – sardines were very rare these days, outside of the occasional coveted freak shower – but he was nothing if not resourceful.

“We-ell, it weren’t easy, that’s true,” he rolled a dog-end from one corner of the mouth to the other, savoring the moment. He rarely commanded so much attention without attracting a variety of insults and the occasional ballistic eel. “Pays to know the right people, o’course. I have connections, me. Contacts. Ties, even.”

“Aye, but that floral one you nicked last week really don’t suit you very well.”

“Oh, that’s rich coming from you, Stronginthearm. All your accessories are made of chainmail! Everyone knows jewel tones are for winter, anyway.”

Colon raised a placating hand. “All right, all right, lads, no need to get all up in arms just ‘cos some folks are a little…stylistically challenged.”

“Thanks, sarge.”

“I meant you, Nobby.”

The corporal threw up his arms. “I go to all this trouble,” he wailed, “I talk to people, I find a contraband seafood shipment from Klatch, I explain matters to the fishmonger – on my day off, too, might I add – I procure a real, genuine, only-slightly-nibbled actual sardine, and this is the thanks I get?”

The watchmen watched, transfixed, as he flourished the fabled fish in their faces. It had, indeed, already been chewed on; the tail was sticking out rigidly and the whole thing smelled as if it was a few weeks beyond consumption, but it was a sardine nonetheless. Most of the lads, coming from humble (and sometimes humbling) backgrounds, felt slightly awed at the idea of Tossing a fish that these days was available only to the very richest observers of the fad. It was, they felt, unbecoming to wave it around like a paper flag at a parade. The damn things tended to be slippery. Probably would be bad luck, they figured, if it was flung down by accident; who knew what sort of fortune that would foretell?

“Where’s the appreciation, I ask you?” Nobby continued in woeful tones. “Every time I’ve Tossed a fish for you lot, it’s landed Right! Now, how many of you can say that, eh?”

The watchmen exchanged doubtful glances.

“Er… Well, you never let anyone else do it, corp,” Ping reasoned. “You just nicks the fish and eats it afterwards.”

“Oh, now, that does it! I won’t stand here and be slandered at!”

“Woah there, Nobby, watch that sardine-”

“If you’re gonna be like that, then I’m not doing it. And good luck finding someone who’ll do it as well as me!”

“Careful with that-”

“And I’m taking the sardine.”

“-not the tail-”

“You can beg, but I won’t change my mind, and that’s that!” Nobby flung out his hand in a grandiose gesture. Unfortunately, it was the wrong hand.

Time slowed to a crawl. Every head in the room swiveled as one, following the trajectory of the airborne fish. It sailed head first towards the front door, which was creaking, doorknob turning, and slowly, slowly opening…

* * *

The Offishal Tosser tossed the fish, which landed damply. There was a satisfying splat. The crowd held its breath as the first few rows near the podium craned to see.

“Today is the fourth of April in the year of the Significant Woodlouse, and it is a… Left Wednesday!” the man proclaimed.

A disappointed groan spread through the crowd. Slowly, people started dispersing with occasional complaints, casting sour looks at the offending fish. Here and there, members of the Gamblers’ Guild were exchanging coins.

Vimes shook his head again as the grumbling current carried him through the square, into the Plaza of Broken Moons, and out to the Patrician’s palace. At last he disengaged himself from the throng and elbowed his way towards the Brass Bridge. It wasn’t far to the watch house from here, but he still picked up the pace. Despite not having official working hours, Vimes liked to get there early in the morning, just as the day shift was coming in, to get a headstart on ignoring his paperwork.

As he walked, his copper mind took over and he mentally leafed through the agenda of the day. Let’s see, what was there… He had that audience with Vetinari at eleven, probably concerning last night’s diplomatic dinner – not that it was Vimes’s fault that he saw the unlicensed thief and that the Klatchian ambassador happened to be standing there, and anyway who drinks red wine while wearing a white robe… Then the interview with the Times at noon… Then briefing the lads on the unsolved contraband seafood case… Then he’d have to do something about the river division, they can’t just keep sinking the damn boat, this is getting ridiculous…

A distant glint caught Vimes’ eye as he stepped off the bridge. Carrot’s shiny breastplate could be seen from a mile away on a clear day, and the captain was, indeed, proceeding along the river with Angua in tow.

What the hell are they doing out? They’re not on patrol today…

Briefly, he considered catching up to them, but then dismissed the idea. They were only a couple streets away from the watch house, and Carrot seemed relaxed enough, stopping to chat with every other passer-by in his usual manner. No emergency, then. On the other hand, they had a batch of new recruits at the main office, the gods alone knew what those yahoos would be getting up to without a senior officer present. And under Colon’s command…

A few minutes later, Vimes was rounding the corner of Lower Broadway and trotting up the steps of Pseudopolis Yard. There seemed to be quite a commotion going on inside; he’d heard the shouting from half a block away. With his hand on the doorknob, mentally preparing his best Not Yelling Voice, he pushed the door open…

…and very briefly saw something shiny flying full speed at his head. Before he could react, the thing clanked off his helmet, bounced on a nearby desk and, finally, lodged itself between the floorboards with a sproinnnng.

Silence fell like a gavel. A dozen horrified watchmen gaped at their Commander, the life quickly draining out of their eyes*****. Sergeant Colon’s face, pale as the moon and just as round, tried unsuccessfully to hide behind his high collar.

Wordlessly, Vimes approached the thing stuck between the floorboards. He crouched down. He examined it. He gave it a tentative flick. It made a noise not unlike a ruler twanging off the side of a table, or a very thin sheet of metal being shaken vigorously. After a moment’s contemplation, he felt moved to speak.

“Well, lads, I don’t think Left and Right suffices anymore. Seems we ought to add a third Day to the list.”

Ahhh. Relief rose off the squad like morning mist. Their laughter had the strained quality that came with trying very hard to pretend that whatever was happening was entirely intentional. At this point, they’d have laughed at anything, as long as it meant Ol’ Stoneface was Not Yelling At Them. Whatever they may think to themselves, the one motivation that all coppers in all the worlds have in common is to Not Get Yelled At.

“Bottom Day, sir?” someone suggested. There was another bout of slightly forceful sniggers.

“Er… Perhaps not.” Vimes gave the fish a few fruitless tugs and gave up. “Alright, someone get this damn thing out of there and, uh…”

“Throw it away, sir?”

“No, good gods, you could hurt someone… Look, just get rid of the…fish and we’ll say no more about it. Fred, a word upstairs?”

With the watch house returning slowly to its normal daily bustle, Vimes went up to his office and sat down wearily at his desk, which was hidden underneath an impressive pile of paper. He’d signed a few dozen forms and…dealt with half a fireplace’s worth of complaint letters last night, but the stacks looked suspiciously bigger this morning. They entirely refused to melt away under his glare.

“Alright, what is this bloody nonsense? I thought I’d made it clear I don’t want any Tossing in the watch house,” he said to Colon, once the man had huffed and puffed his way up the stairs.

“Well, Mister Vimes, I just thought I’d indulge the lads this once. Raise their spirits with some good ol’ cultural team building. For tradition’s sake and all.”

“Tradition? It’s not been two months, Fred!”

“We-ell, they’ve taken to it, sir. Besides, you can’t deny we’ve had crimes happen on every single Left Day since the Offishal Tossings started.”

“Good grief, you could say that about every bloody day since the founding of the city! I thought you weren’t a superstitious man, Fred.”

“No, sir, but the fish don’t lie,” said Colon fervently.

“Ugh. Next thing you know, the bloody Times will be printing it alongside the bloody date in their bloody papers.”

There was a guilty silence.

Vimes stared at the sergeant’s carefully blank face. A single droplet of sweat was slowly making its way down the man’s forehead. The beady little eyes flickered momentarily to a relatively unoccupied corner of the desk.

With a sinking dread, Vimes followed his gaze and beheld a newspaper lying there on top of the forlorn paperwork, all neatly rolled and still crisp from the press. Belatedly, he noticed the smell of fresh ink. At the top of the front page, a small print line proclaimed today’s date to be April 4th, Left Wednesday.

Five minutes later, sergeant Colon walked down the stairs and into a perfectly silent room full of watchmen. His face had the distant look of someone who had just seen a ghost, and was fairly sure everybody else had, too, but would be damned if he’d mention it first.

With nothing else to do, he cleared his throat. This seemed to break the spell; all at once, the room regained its normal level of noise as the coppers went back to their coppery activities. Only Nobby sidled closer and offered up a slightly bent cigar.

“What’s up with ol’ Stoneface today, sarge?”

“Dunno what’s gotten into him.” Colon took the cigar gratefully and lit it, trying not to think too hard about where it came from. “It’s this job, I expect. All this responsibility is wearing on his nerves.”

“Ah, right.”

“I mean, what’s so wrong with a little tradition once in a while, eh?”

“Beats me, sarge.”

“Doesn’t hurt no one, having some mores and values ‘round the place.”

“You never said a truer thing.”

“Ah, anyway, Mister Vimes is just overworked. Not his fault he’s got a bit of a cultural blind spot when he’s cranky,” Colon concluded magnanimously. “Maybe he could do with a coffee and a nice meal. I know I could… Say, Nobby, what’ve we got for breakfast in the cantine today?”

“Fish’n’chips, I think. Er… You alright there, sarge? …Sarge?”

* An unfortunate misunderstanding at the fishmonger’s that had led to the Offishal Tosser being handed a very live fish, foreboding a day of extreme mood swings for the populace.

** This is the social cue equivalent of climbing onto the roof at three in the morning and setting off a barrage of fireworks while waving an enormous fluorescent red flag. Not even a 6’6’’ dwarf could remain oblivious.

*** Only comparatively. This was Ankh-Morpork, after all.

**** Allegedly.

***** Except for Corporal Shoe, for whom it was a little late******.

****** heh.

#discworld #sam vimes #ankh morpork #gnu terry pratchett #i thoroughly enjoyed writing this tbh #apologies for the unfortunate footnote format i couldnt figure out how to do superscript

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tessasilverswan · 2 months ago

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Latest AO3 scrape into AI database

Please read this if you're an AO3 user with public, not archive-locked works. This is information on the latest known instance of someone taking AO3 works to build datasets on which to train AI and the ongoing process to get them removed. I don't really make posts adressing people, but I am furious about my work being used and I know some of my mutuals don't have their fics archive-locked so I hope I can at least get the information to some people.

Earlier this month (April) a, to my understanding, rp fanworks website named PaperDemon.com got word that a user of an AI dataset website, HuggingFace, had scraped its contents, as well as those of a bunch of other websites among which AO3 is included, where they can be freely downloaded to train generative AI models. For AO3 specifically, the user themselves reports that all public works with IDs ranging from 1 to 63,200,000 have been scraped.

As of April 25 and per the updating Paper Demon publication, 2 of 8 affected sites have gotten their content removed and the rest have achieved temporary disabling (supposedly data is visible but not downloadable) pending a counter-notice from the scraper, who appears to be set on the aim of dismissing the request as unfounded. Furthermore, the AO3 dataset has already been downloaded 2,244 times in the last month. On earlier updates of the PD post they mentioned that the scraper agreed to remove, on an individual basis, the content of those who file a Copyright infringement report. So far there are about 150 reports against the AO3 dataset. The scraper also uploaded them to another website, but appears to have removed at least the PD ones, as well as to his personal website which the PD post doesn't even link for safety reasons. The platform HuggingFace has also been made aware of the situation (that's what got us the temporary disabling)

I have personally filed a Copyright infringement report using the helpful guide put together by the PD team and have emailed the scraper on the address listed there providing the title and URL of my work and requesting for it to be removed from the dataset.

I have one concern regarding the PD guide, though (disclaimer: this is coming from someone with a very limited knowledge on computers & digital information and my understanding of the majority of concepts is from 3h of internet searches + ms help page + messing around in my laptop) They rightly recommend to not publish the work URLs in the report and instead instruct to collect them in a spreadsheet in .cvs filetype. This, however, has a problem of personally-identifying metadata being stored "alongside" the file itself and it can be accessed. The MS Excel Inspector tool allows the removal of this type of data, but apparently only when it's shared through the MS account? For Google sheets there is a different problem, which is that you can't just make your spreadsheet in .csv filetype, you need to download it and the reupload it (if there is a way, it's not easily accessible; i looked at like 4 step-by-step guides and they all said to download) which again adds properties to the file that may contain personal information.

I was very sleep deprived and very close to giving up, because I do not wish to provide a person that's massively stealing content any information linked to my identity, but then I thought I could just send the info on the email body itself. It's not the best solution but I think it's better than the alternative.

I am beyond mad that this happened and will archive-lock my affected work as soon as I receive a response (or after enough days of silence, I guess, but I hope my report won't be ignored). Unfortunately I can't file a DMCA take-down notice, because it requires personal information which might be shared with the infringer if they file a counter-notice, but I have hope that, if everyone whose works were scraped files Copyright infringement reports, AO3's DMCA won't be dismissed.

I encourage anyone who has read this to also file a report to get their work(s) removed asap and, if anyone is more informed or knowledgeable on the topic, to please share any useful info you have. I might also email AO3 to inquire about the DMCA status later because the PD publication is understandably only really tracking theirs.

#i don't feel comfortable tagging anyone in this but i might come into my mutuals' inboxes to tell you if i know your fics aren't locked #i don't want to be annoying about this but i can't imagine anyone will be happy their work got stolen and fed to genAI #mine is just one piece of fanart but i am still disgusted by this #tagging my two main fandoms so it can hopefully be seen #aftg #all for the game #txf #the x files #ao3 #archive of our own

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1eos · 11 months ago

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mx kendra, do you have any advice for job hunting? I'm about to start looking(again), but its always so intimidating - have a lovely day!

how it feels to start job hunting in the 2020s:

but yes i have advice for you anon! last time i went job hunting i got serious enough where i was reading 'askamanager' blogs and shit like that to really make sure i wasn't wasting my effort

so kendra's advice to job hunting in the most effort effective way:

first and most importantly is to understand that job hunting rn is simply a numbers game. it's not you it's just that the society we're living in is full of shit. for every 10 job postings, 4 are fake, 1 has an internal candidate in mind already, 3 are just posting jobs to look good and the rest are legit but slow af

bc job hunting is a numbers game its easy to be discouraged if you're not receiving responses consistently as proof that you're not just throwing shit into the void so its superrr imperative to try your best to apply to legit jobs. ive found my best success using indeed as a method of jobs being brought to me and then going on the company website myself and applying. this also doubles as a way to make sure a job posting/company is real

keep a spreadsheet of applied jobs. i just googled 'job application spreadsheet template' and picked one of the first ones i saw, made a copy, and then modified it to suit my needs. keeping a spreadsheet was one of the best things i did bc it can help keep track of jobs you've found and haven't applied to/ones you have applied to/and if you're like me and had a goal of getting a state job i could pre-empt when the interview requests were gonna come in lol 😭

resumes/cover letters. whew. probably the most important part of job hunting. ai scanning or not its a good rule of thumb to have skills mentioned in the job description to match the job posting. what i did was dedicate a folder in my google drive to job stuff and made a folder for each kind of jobs i was interested in. from there i would find a job i wanted to apply to and tailor an old resume to have a bunch of the shit mentioned in the posting on the new resume. i'd save it in the appropriate folder with the date i edited it. if you haven't been in the habit of tailoring your resume you may be doing this a lot but eventually you'll have so many variations you won't have to do much editing if at all. and i do the same with cover letters. i have a general template for my cover letter and then tweak them for each kinds of jobs im looking for. this + ditching linkedin helped me A LOT

create an interview cheatsheet. you probably already know the job hunting sphere has a language and culture all its own. personally as someone with a touch of the 'tism it do not make sense to me so i have unknowingly not navigated interviews as well as i could have. what's helped? ask a manager. seriously. miss allison has helped me blend in as a normie soooo much 😭😭😭😭 if you have any specific questions/have any specific weaknesses just search the site but what really helped me was the list of good interview questions. oh and for the longest i could never come up with a good question to ask my interviewer but one day google recced me this article and now every time i ask 'so what would separate a good candidate from an excellent candidate in this role' and when i tell you my interviewers gag every time lollllll. i also went through 'boost your interview iq' [pdf download link here <3] and jotted down notes on how i can answer common interview questions to quickly be able to go over the night before

study the job posting before the interview btw and try to drum up at least one correlating anecdote for some of the major points of the job bc they WILL ask you that lollllllll

#asks #after doing a bunch of research on job culture stupidity it really helped teehee #bc i really did think they meant to talk abt yourself not your qualifications.....

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somuchfangirling · 2 months ago

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Avatar the Last Airbender Fic Recs - Fixed.xlsx

In Honor of the recent news about a new Avatar series being made, I decided to fix up my AtLA fic rec spreadsheet. This spreadsheet has even more fics on it than my lists and it is organized beautifully if I do say so myself. Plus, all the links are attached in this spreadsheet, unlike on my General fics list. (I have officially attached all the links for the fics on my Ships list though).

Anyway, I still have to go through an organize the General fics and finish adding summaries and such, but I have noticed that most of the attention that I get on these lists/documents that I post are usually when it comes to the ships. Those are mostly done with. I might organize them a bit more, especially since there are now separate tabs for both Zutara and Kataang that I plan on trying to sort. Also, I plan on eventually adding more as I have several rec lists from other people that I want to add.

Also, one other thing, despite being the same way about fics, I would say, you should definitely check out the general fics. There are some really interesting fics on there plus a few that are some of my favorites on there.

Also, as I added to a previous post, I planned on making a google spreadsheet. Well, I did, although I don't think the online version of excel is all that bad. Still, google is free, so here you go. :)

In both spreadsheets, the general fics are still undergoing changes, I am currently in the process of sorting all of them. Please still check them out, there are some really good ones in there.

Also, as I am still going through all of my bookmarked fic recs from other people as well as my own favorited fics, keep in mind this list is not the final product I am still updating it constantly, at least for the time being.

If you have any issues, let me know by either commenting on the google sheet or sending me a message on here. I hope you all enjoy all these fics.

PS. Lately I've been getting into NCIS again so I've been working on a spreadsheet for that fandom, I've got quite a bit of that finished already so be looking for that maybe some time soon.

PSS I have also been getting into Supernatural lately too, so I may or may not create a rec list for that. Most of it I will say will be Destial <3 tho.

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legionofnone · 10 days ago

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Click here to read ch15 of 'A Sea of Glass...' on AO3!

Title: "The Snack Hydra Payout" Pairing: Harvey x Chloe Fandom: Stardew Valley Rating: Explicit Summary:

Harvey does some investigating after Chloe off-handedly mentions the criminally small amount of money she made from licensing one of her inventions, and discovers she’s not nearly as broke as she thought. Cue financial whiplash, emotional whiplash, and the sort of sex that gets you yelled at by your roommate.

Excerpt:

[Chloe’s POV]

The wedding is four months away, and I am not prepared, to put it mildly.

I don’t have a dress, I don’t know what I’m doing for flowers, at this point I think I’ll just offer up all the booze I’ve got fermenting as the drinks in lieu of a cash bar, and…

“Why are we doing this wedding again? Aren’t we already married?” I whine at him. We’re sitting in bed together; I’m haphazardly scribbling down bridal shops to go look at when I go to the city next week, as he pores over his budget spreadsheet.

He looks over at me with a mix of anxiety, concern, and sympathy. “Because, neither of us have gotten to have a wedding that wasn’t in a courthouse,” he answers gently.

“Well, we did kinda have that one in the Stardrop supply closet,” I smirk at him suggestively.

He sighs, “Fine, we didn’t get to have a wedding that wasn’t in a courthouse or immediately post-coitus with Elliot watching us.” A hint of mischief glitters in his expression as his eyes meet mine.

“I know, you’re right. It’s just, ugh, four months isn’t a lot of time, I lost a lot of ground with this whole ‘getting cancer’ followed by ‘yay I don’t have cancer’ followed by ‘oops now we have a baby hanging out all the time,’ you know?”

He nods thoughtfully, “Yeah, I know. We could always push the date out?”

I frown, “But I was really looking forward to our Halloween Wedding, you know?”

“What if we just had a super sick Halloween party, and then did a wedding on…I don’t know, New Years Eve?”

I blink up at him in shock, before examining his neck to make sure he didn’t have a spare head getting ready to grow out of it. “Did I just hear you, Harvey ‘I don’t want people touching my stuff’ Klein, not only suggest we have a sick party, but also have a wedding on the most chaotic day of the year?!”

He shrugs lightly, “What can I say, living with you has been akin to exposure therapy.”

I lean over to hug him, pinning his arms to his side as he awkwardly tries to navigate the open Excel file on his laptop. “I love you, like, a stupid amount,” I mumble into his neck, biting it for emphasis.

He yelps and giggles, “Careful, if you keep that up I’m going to make you learn about budgets with me here.”

I straighten myself up a bit, “Weren’t you going to teach me that anyway or something?”

He blushes a bit, clearing his throat, “What, you mean ‘Mutual Funds for Mutual Fun’ scene I’d suggested?” I nod, and he lets out a light chuckle, “Well, it might not be a terrible time for that. I’m struggling a bit to figure out what our wedding budget should be, especially now that I’ve got an eye on expanding the clinic,” he tells me, like he’s informing me of bad news that he’s trying to soften the blow for.

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not impossible, it’s just… applying for grants and getting past all the red tape could take years. Now, if I could just buy the old community center up, that would be a great property to rehabilitate and expand into.”

“Oh, that would be awesome!” I light up, smiling.

He winces a bit, “Awesome in theory, yes. But, Joja is trying to make a play for it, and they’re offering more than I can do without considerably compromising us financially.”

“Fucking Joja,” I grumble, “You know, when I sold Snack Hydra, a little over a year ago, Joja made an offer on it. It was like, a lot of money. But I hated them so much I turned it down. Maybe I made a mistake doing that, I don’t know.”

“Wait, wait,” he says, lifting a hand like he’s trying to physically slow the chaos down. “You mean that Frankenplant you made with the melon that smelled like Smarties and tasted like battery acid?”

“The very one,” I say proudly.

“I’m not surprised they wanted to get their hands on it, if only to make sure it didn’t see the light of day,” he ponders aloud, “That thing grew four different crops from the same stem. It could sense soil conditions and adapt accordingly. You built a biologically impossible modular crop hybrid out of expired seeds, banana peels, and spite.”

“And duct tape,” I add.

I’d started working on Snack Hydra in the first couple of months of living here. I was starving, and I couldn’t get shit to grow right – not without fertilizer I couldn’t afford, or tools I didn’t have, or the kind of soil that wasn’t made entirely out of crushed dreams and fucking clay. Every single crop either shriveled, got eaten, or bolted before I could even blink.

By that point, I was so angry that everything I’d worked for up to that point—college, internships, all of it—had fallen apart. So I leaned into the only thing I had left: my brain and an absurd amount of vengeance energy.

I started messing with seed coatings and hormone grafts. I didn't have a proper lab, just some broken glassware, an old fondue pot, and a folding table rigged under a janky lean-to I built out of fence posts and a surfboard. But it worked. Eventually.

The first time it fruited, it produced a tomato, a chili, and half of a suspiciously bioluminescent mushroom before collapsing under the weight of its own impossible ambition. And I remember just sitting there and laughing, because it was the dumbest, most beautiful thing I’d ever made.

I told Harvey about it during the Egg Festival, like it was no big deal. I’d been kind of avoiding him for a couple weeks (okay, ghosting him, fine) and then suddenly there he was, sitting under a tree looking like an absolute snack himself, and I just…sat down and started talking.

It was the first time I really let myself talk to him, and not just flirt or fluster or whatever the hell it was we were doing. The first time he felt like a friend, not just a crush. And I don’t think I realized how much I needed that until he followed me home and stood in my busted-up lean-to and said the words, “This is inspired.” Like I wasn’t just some wreck in cutoffs doing trash science to survive.

And then a couple weeks later, I closed on a licensing deal with a startup. Said it was niche tech, probably wouldn’t go anywhere, but they wanted to try. They gave me twenty grand and a contract I didn’t read. I paid off my bar tab, built a coop, bought a shed, and never thought about it again.

He looks at me, alarmed. “You didn’t tell me you turned down an offer, how much was it for?”

I shrug, “Something ridiculous, like, $250,000.”

His eyes go wide, “WOW. And how much did you end up selling it for?”

“I dunno, it was this little startup ag-tech outfit, they said they couldn’t pay me much up front but said something like, ‘down the road it’ll hit big!’ But I didn’t care, I was fucking hungry, I would have sold it for a Wawa hoagie at that point.”

“But how much?”

“$20,000, I think? I went through it pretty quick, it’s how I got my coop and barn built. And how I paid my bar tab at the Stardrop,” I chuckle. Gus was so happy that day, it was wonderful.

“And you just… sold it. For twenty grand.”

“Well, and I insisted that they couldn’t let Joja touch it, under any circumstances. And that they had to keep the name Snack Hydra.”

“…huh,” is all he can say, like there’s several tiny gears turning in his head.

#farmer x harvey #harvey sdv #harvey x farmer #sdv harvey #stardew fanfic #stardew harvey #stardew oc #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley harvey #sdv fanfic

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haveyouheardthispodcast · 1 year ago

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400* Completed Polls!

I have noticed that we get tags from people shocked that so few people have heard of specific podcasts, and overwhelmingly these tags are left on polls that have a much higher heard-of-rate than normal.

So here's some stats about what has been "normal":

The mean "Haven't heard of this podcast" results is 75.1%.

The median is 82.1%.

(The mode is 91.1%, but this type of stat isn't particularly relevant for this data. It represents 5 datapoints.)

According to Microsoft Excel, if more than 69%** of our voting base has heard of a podcast, then it is an outlier.

The first quartile (which means 25% of the polls are under this number, and 75% are over this number) for "Haven't heard of this podcast" is 67.0%. The third quartile is 91.0%.

Only 54 podcasts have been recognized by half or more of our voters. Below the cut are the 30 podcasts that have been recognized by 60% or more of our voters.

There is a loose correlation (r²=0.427) between the number of votes a poll receives and the proportion of people who have heard of it. This correlation could be messed up with outliers — that is the polls about podcasts that leave our normal audience are often ones that are very well known on Tumblr. Unfortunately, Google Sheets does not have an easy way to recognize outliers, like Microsoft Excel does. Additionally, what is considered an outlier for how many votes a poll seems to change with how many polls we posted that day.

So frankly I do not know how do control for these outliers to give a more accurate r².

If you want to see the other stats I've compiled, a copy of the Google Spreadsheet is here.

Without further ado, the thirty podcasts that at least 60% of our voters have heard of:

The Magnus Archives

Welcome to Night Vale

Critical Role

The Ben Shapiro Show

My Brother, My Brother, and Me

Dungeons and Daddies

Alice Isn't Dead

The Penumbra Podcast

Wolf 359

I Am In Eskew

Friends at the Table

Malevolent

Not Another D&D Podcast

The Silt Verses

The Bright Sessions

Sawbones

Within the Wires

The Daily

Dateline

Wooden Overcoats

The Last Podcast on the Left

You're Wrong About

Hello From The Hallowoods

Where Do We Begin

Hello from the Magic Tavern

Stellar Firma

My Favorite Murder

SCP Archives

The Orbiting Human Circus

The White Vault

*Not counting the accidental 24 hour poll that is currently being rerun (although those stats are included in our averages, it lowered the minimum votes from 168 to 135 and is an outlier that should not have been counted for some stats but I want to keep it for other stats, so it's still in the data).

**Technically 68.8%, but a) 69% is a funnier number, and b) most of our polls get between 200 and 400 votes, so Tumblr's rounding to the first decimal is already too precise to be frankly accurate.

***This chart is not actually by how many posts were made that day, but by the date ranges surrounding the queue rates. The 24-hour poll has been removed from this data.

#I am SO sorry this post got so long. It was supposed to be short.#Not A Poll #Statistics #As always the stats have been compiled by Mod Nic and þei do not have access to the askbox so leave a reply if you have questions.#Also I am so sorry there's only 17 more polls queued up which is just over four days. I started playing Baldur's Gate III on Valentine's Da #and those 40+ hours have been carved out of sleep and poll making.#I did try to lower the queue rate but Tumblr wouldn't let me so if the queue runs dry that is why.

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lutethebodies · 4 months ago

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The Boys Are (Tactically, Therapeutically, and Non-Lethally) Back In Town

So I know I just made a big whiny deal about trying to make LTB less of an "all-men-all-the-time" corner of BG3 Tumblr, but contradiction is balance, I guess? Seriously though, this multi-Tav run starring three of my Elite Eight (plus a new guy who's seen relatively little screen time) has a real purpose: treating my latest—and most chronically severe—case of restart-itis. Since there's a bit of background and most people won't care, I'll keep the (very text-heavy) rest below the cut.

I've noticed that my restart-itis happens when IRL freelance-design-work sits fallow between projects and when I'm waiting for the next BG3 patch to drop. Ahead of Patch 8, this has been exacerbated by completing the game with a second Tav (because yes Olini finished, modded with her original Horizon Walker subclass, and escaped Faerun-Groundhog-Day for retirement on Shadowheart's farm).

It's also manifested here recently with a few playthroughs that have been excellent for screencaps but (for whatever reason) not compelling enough to totally follow through once I've explored their initial novelty:

Cannor's 22nd run, my first on Tactician (stalled at the créche)

Oops All Elf Ladies, a multi-Tav with Minthara, Kagha, Florrick, and Naoise (stalled after saving the grove)

Wood Elf Minthara (aka Morenthara) with hired gun Fauxrin (human Orin), stalled on Day 3

The latter two remain interesting and I'll surely revisit them (for obvious thirsty reasons), but I feel like I've been neglecting a few non-BG3 creative projects I'd like to do this year (not to mention my first fic that may or may not happen), so I need to place a lot more friction on my BG3 hours before it takes over my life the way it did in fall 2023 when I was stuck at home recovering from Covid.

That's where my boys come in. They're ideally gonna impose friction in this playthrough by helping me take on three concurrent challenges: 1) managing romances for four separate Tavs, 2) trying to go through the game with Non-Lethal Damage always on, and 3) doing it at Tactician level, which I've only tried once before. Three tall orders, to be sure, so there are caveats related to each one:

Couples Therapy

Four separate romances is a nightmare to manage. I mean, the last time I tried this I had to make a spreadsheet. It might require lots of party-switching while each guy takes his respective date (Cannor/Minthara, Ruy/Lae'zel, Farago/Shadowheart, Daven/Karlach) out and about to get to know each other better (aka flagrantly mine approval).

This will ideally impose severe limits on what any given adventuring day accomplishes, and might even help me impose a sort of "one in-game day per IRL day" rule on my BG3 time. "Couples Therapy," then, but for my video game addiction and not for my pixel dolls' well-being.

No Needless Death or Cruelty

Non-lethal damage won't help me 100% of the time, of course—for plot reasons some enemies can't just be knocked out—but given the above romance details this will probably be a grove-saving and not grove-raiding run. So Cannor doesn't get his on-screen night with Minthara, but that's been visually buggy for me for a while now (weird torchlight glitches effectively black out much of the scene) and he'll be reduced to a wingman for all of Act 1.

That's fine because this'll be his 23rd escape from the nautiloid, and for a silly reason this might be his last run before retirement (saving some photo-mode excursions): 2023 was the year I released my mandocello-music project of his seven best songs, an accomplishment I'm still really proud of.

A final note on non-lethal damage: it won't apply to undead, because I've always feared and loathed those monsters and, well, they're already dead. Destroy them with fire and radiation! That might become an issue in Act 3 with the 7000 vampire spawn, but we'll burn that bridge when we come to it.

Tactician, For Real This Time

Cannor's 22nd start introduced this to me—in a slightly modified form where I didn't disable Free First Strikes—and I'd had more downed characters more often than ever before. Death is relatively gentle in 5e/BG3, but for obvious reasons it's still a bit stressful, so trying Non-Lethal at this level of difficulty is gonna require much more stealth/subtlety.

That'll manifest in each character's build: Cannor will be Lore this time instead of Swords, so he can focus on control spells and be the "mage" of the party (Gale, Astarion, and Wyll likely won't see much use, if they're recruited at all). Ruy and Farago will need more face skills to mine approval, so their ability scores will shift a bit (and Farago will revert to his 5e class of Rogue, trying to get as close to his 5e Scout subclass as I can). They'll have modded camp clothes galore, and four chests to hoard with, so trading all that extra gear for supplies instead of killing for gold might help too.

And new guy Daven the paladin (more on him later, perhaps) will change from his 5e build of DEX-based Oath of the Open Sea to a more conventional Vengeance/STR build. That'll beef him up a bit (allowing me to use Body Type 4 for the first time as I don't really prefer to play Big Dudes), but it'll balance Karlach a bit so that's fine. He'll still use Umberlee's dye, though, because ex-pirates who target their erstwhile shipmates must maintain some standards.

Speaking of pirates—finally, it's not that big of a deal but I justified the all-straight-male run to myself with one very flimsy caveat: when Patch 8 drops, Zafraia the Bandit is waiting in the wings to swash every buckle from Ten-Towns to Athkatla, and coincidentally every other character of mine waiting to play their original 5e subclass (conveniently included in the next patch) are all women: Sianed the Stars druid, Vashti the glamour bard, and Qiranna the hexblade warlock.

So an all-female multi-Tav run will balance out these boys eventually, but for the next several months this blog might be Very Dudely. Thanks in advance for your patient indulgence.

#bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #cannor the lost #ruy the reckoner #farago the exile #daven the navigator #ltb boys are back

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theeeveetamer · 1 year ago

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Rune Factory Tides of Destiny (extended thoughts)

@saficswrites asked me to go a little more in depth and I've actually been planning on talking more in depth anyway, so this is a good opportunity! I'm also going to throw in some of the resources I used while playing because there's a lot of great ones but they're kind of scattered.

So I will start by saying that I started on the series with RF4 back when it originally came out for 3DS and I played the heck out of it. Like, tried taming every single monster in the game levels of played the heck out of it. I've since played all of RF1, RF2, most of RF3 and RF5, and now RFToD. I chose to go back and play 1, 2, 3, and ToD after RF5 was announced. The only one I haven't touched is Frontier.

And yeah, Tides of Destiny does have some quirks and I can see why some people don't love it as a Rune Factory game. Just starting with some of the criticisms (because they lead into one of the things I actually really like about the game): The farming is very pared down and it's entirely reliant on the monsters you tame. Basically you just plant generic seeds and the monsters you put on the seasonal island determine what they grow into. Different monsters can grow different things.

That is somewhat annoying because you can't see what the monsters are called or what they plant before you tame them, the game doesn't really give you a clear list of everything you can plant, and you only get to tame 30 total so you're going to be doing a lot of swapping. It is possible to get everything with some planning tho (I borrowed the monster setups from this GameFaqs thread).

That said, I personally kind of prefer this? Micromanaging the farming has always been my least favorite aspect of the Rune Factory games. In Tides of Destiny you don't have to worry about that. There's no watering, no harvesting, no spreadsheets keeping track of exactly what seeds you need to buy, and the crops grow so fast (most are done in 1-2 days when you have your monster friendship maxed out) that you don't really feel the randomness. I'm in summer of year 2 and I've already got a storage full of full stacks of basically every crop in the game. That means you can focus 100% on the exploration, dungeons, making friends, etc.

And the exploration is. My god. I love it. It's basically if you threw Rune Factory and Legend of Zelda Wind Waker into a blender. For reference, Wind Waker is one of my favorite Zelda games ever so that colors my impressions of the game. The exploration is 100% riding around through the ocean on a giant golem, fighting giant monsters, and digging up islands and salvage points. The quests usually point you toward specific islands to unlock and there's no point where I felt like I needed an external tool to explore, but if you want help someone made an excellent, detailed map of the stuff you can find in the ocean. You also eventually unlock a fast travel and there is a way to speed up getting from point A to point B, so I never felt like wandering through the ocean was too intrusive.

I also really, really, really like the characters. Each one has a little required "friendship event" you need to watch to unlock their next friendship level, and each of the main island inhabitants has at least 6. All the friendship events are connected to a little character arc which is completed with level 6. The bachelor/ettes get an additional 3 event arc if you unlock their love events as well, though you can't access that until after the main plot is over (and gender locked unfortunately). And there's actually a reason to get them up to the max (level 6) before the endgame, since you get a benefit in the final boss battle.

IMO they're all just really likable, funny characters. Some of the events actually made me laugh out loud, and I was usually smiling the whole time any of the them were talking!

I also really like they way they handled the main characters (Aden and Sonja). The plot of the game is that Sonja gets trapped in her childhood friend Aden's body, and the story is about figuring out how to separate them again. You can play as Sonja once they're separated at the end of the main plot, but you do have to do the entirety of the main story as Aden. Initially I was kind of miffed about this, since I vastly prefer playing as female characters in games, but I actually really like how they did it. For two reasons.

One, I just really like Aden as a protagonist. I was expecting him to be kind of the goody two-shoes amnesiac like a lot of Rune Factory protags are, but no. He's sassy as hell. There was at least one point where one of the characters (I think Joe) is like "hey buddy ol' pal" and Aden is just like "Yeah we're not friends sorry you thought that tho."

Two, initially I was thinking that the whole "my best friend is living in my head" thing was going to be some secret they kept. Like Sonja was going to be there, but she was going to be quiet most of the time or not really interact with the world. But no. The first thing that happens is the obligatory RF starter girl (Odette) finds Aden, and the first thing out of his mouth is "Sonja is stuck in my head, isn't that weird?" and EVERYONE just goes with it. I love it. They really lean into the wackiness/silliness of it all. Sonja is very present in the dialogue and the plot. On her birthday characters wish Aden happy birthday to pass it along. The writing frequently plays around with the dynamic of them being stuck together (such as the two of them arguing over how Aden is going to take a bath), and they frequently swap off in dialogue and give different perspectives. They each kind of have their own relationship with the various characters around town. Most of the friendship events feature both of them in some way. It's also really nice how they'll talk to each other throughout gameplay. They'll say good morning to each other, Sonja will warn you when your health is getting low or what time it is, etc.

Despite playing as Aden (physically) I really feel like you're actually playing as both of them to some degree, and I really like that. It actually feels kind of lonely once they split at the end of the main plot and you don't get Sonja's little quips in your head anymore.

I think those are the big things. There's also lots of little things I enjoyed. I love the aesthetic of the world, and the gameplay systems relating to RP management and stuff are much more refined than the older games. I'd say the only mane difference between it and RF4 is that swinging your weapons still costs RP. The crafting is a little annoying until you get the hang of it (you can craft anything up to 20 levels higher than your current level, so it doesn't suck to grind too badly). There's a bizarre amount of spelling errors, which isn't super intrusive but it is kind of funny lol.

On the negative side, the story is pretty short. You can easily beat it in less than one in game year if you're rushing. I'm also not a huge fan of the main story needing to be 100% completed before you can do marriage and the like, since the game is basically done at that point. I don't think there's much post-game other than the goals you make up for yourself. I do think playing as Sonja was a bit of an afterthought. She has like a quarter of the romance options Aden has and there's some odd mistakes I've noticed playing as her (like trying to knock on Sierra's door while she's asleep will have Sonja saying a line about how the bath is closed ???) but it doesn't bother me too much so far.

Those are pretty minor negatives though. I still had (and am having) so much fun with the game!

I also heavily used this website as a guide. The only thing is that I wish they had pictures of the monsters because I think they have slightly different names from the rest of the series, and it can be confusing cuz some monsters have different colorations and therefore do completely different things.

#rune factory #rune factory tides of destiny #RFToD #long post

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