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#all this unauthorized content into this show
mx-mongoose · 11 months
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Sure, Wheatley in the musical was great. But y’know who really carried this show on their back?
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Them.
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neobomb · 6 months
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give into things i (dont) want to [mark lee] - the sequel
Toxic! (yandere ish) possessive/jealous! bsf!Mark x super innocent!virgin!reader Warnings: dark and triggering content, mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, manipulation, forcing??, unprotected sex, corruption kink, noncon, fingering, creampie, MDNI, smut smut smut
part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. please read part 1 before this [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Word Count: 1.2k Summary: Your best friend Mark doesn't like it when you go out on a date. © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.
“Mark, please stop.” You manage to briefly break free from the heated makeout session, gasping for air, but Mark's kisses quickly silence your attempted words. Mark was deaf to your pleas, seemingly lost in his own desires. You knew that Mark wasn’t listening. He had stopped listening long ago. 
Drawing from the waning strength in your limbs, you shove him away with all the force you could muster, breaking free from the kiss completely this time. His piercing gaze locks onto yours, capturing the unmistakable signs of defeat etched across your expression.
“I can’t believe what you just did, Mark.” Tears began to well up in your eyes, clearly betraying the turmoil and distress his actions had caused you.
“Your first kiss, wasn’t it?” Mark narrows the distance between you, his gaze intensifying and growing darker with each fleeting second. He just took away the one thing you were scared of losing in such a meaningless sense, your first kiss. There you were, the picture of innocence, overwhelmed with panic and stress at the realization that reality had strayed far from how you desired your first kiss to be. Adorable but pathetic, Mark thinks to himself. 
“W-why?” Your words falter, catching in your throat, as your chest starts to rise and fall with rapid, uneven breaths. 
“I thought it was obvious.” He cups your face tenderly in his hand, his thumb softly sweeping away the tear that had escaped down your cheek. “I tried to show you because you were too blind to reason. This is what I feel for you, I’ve done so much for you, Y/N. And still… I would do anything for you, and yet… you still push me away.”
“Mark” You say his name in a soft whisper. He truly has a way with words, tugging at your heartstrings and stirring such sympathy within you that you found yourself on the brink of kneeling before him in desperation.
“I refuse to be your friend if it means I can’t have you, Y/N.” With a gentle touch, he swept a stray strand of hair from your face and tenderly tucked it behind your ear. The raw desperation evident in his gaze conveyed the sincerity of his emotions for you. 
“But Mark… I hate to choose between our friendship and this… Whatever this is.” You swallow nervously, pressing yourself more firmly against the wall, wishing fervently to simply vanish into nothingness.
“Well, I’ll spare you the burden of making that decision, Y/N.” And in that moment, he pushes your body further against the wall with such force that your body trembles from the pain. He goes in for another hungry kiss. He bites down on your lips with force, leaving a faint metallic taste behind. 
Slowly, he places kisses along the nape of your neck, cascading shivers down your spine. “Can’t believe you went behind my back and chose Jaemin” he whispers angrily. His voice, now carrying a more ominous undertone, yet filled with a so much jealousy. Softly, His hands move under your skirt, ripping your panties apart, leaving your virgin cunt exposed. 
He brushes one finger up and down your clit until your pussy starts to glisten from the wetness that forms. You feel your body tense up from the sensation, one you’ve never felt before. It leaves your pussy clenching around nothing, drawing a sharp, involuntary gasp from your lips.
“You’re so fucking pure, Y/N. So… untouched… All for me to destroy.” he parts your legs with his hands, pushing your thighs so far apart that you feel an uncomfortable stretch. He teases his fingers around your cunt until he slowly pushes it into you. A powerful feeling courses through you, igniting a powerful surge of pain that permeates through your body.
“Mark, I’m really scared.” You can’t do anything but moan out your pleas. Mark’s eyes search yours as he holds your legs as far apart as possible. His fingers start to pick up the right pace as you feel the pain disappear into pleasure. 
“So fucking pretty” Mark whispers against your lips, still maintaining eye contact with you. Your moans ring throughout the room as the feeling intensifies. Your brain foggy from breathing in his breaths. 
He abruptly pulls out his finger from your cunt and moves you to bed, firmly pressing your back onto the mattress. He grabs your buttoned-up shirt by the collar, making it rip apart as the snatched buttons bounce onto the floor. Immediately, he goes in with his hand behind your back to undo your bra. Too eager to remove the bra straps off your shoulders, he pushes your undone bra up, leaving it hanging above your exposed breasts. He dives face first into your tits, lips in search of your nipples. 
“Hmm” he moans as he starts sucking on your hard nipple, twirling his tongue around it. 
“You’re perfect, Y/N. You’re made for me.” He releases his mouth from your nipple, the suction making a hard pop sound. Once again he pulls your legs far apart to have full access to your glistening cunt. You hear the sound of his pants unzipping, sensing that he is preparing to line his cock up to your core. 
“Mark, please. Be gentle." You exclaim with a voice laced with panic, making him grow harder. He gave himself a few more light strokes as he positioned his cock at the entrance of your cunt. 
“Baby” he gives you a peck on the lips before pushing his dick into you without any warning, making you shut your eyes in discomfort. 
“That is what you get, baby, for even thinking the thought…” Your walls stretch around his length, leaving a burning sensation. “…that Jaemin could have you…”
“Mark..” you moan, desperately hoping that he picks up on your pleas. But he moves gently, just like he promised. Your body is on full display right in front of him and his eyes devour the sight of his dick sinking into you. That thought alone makes every fiber of his being tense as he fights the urge to not show you any mercy.
“So fucking tight. All mine.” you could feel your juices oozing out of you, coating his cock as he slowly thrusts. The pleasure has now turned you into a crying mess. Desperately grabbing onto his arms from the intensity. 
“What were you even doing with that other boy, huh?” As Mark perceived your increasing ease, he holds your legs up and picks up his pace. Your moans only grow louder from the sensation as he hits the spot that brings you closer to the edge.
“I know you’re about to come. I can feel you clench...” He continues to keep his rhythm steady, chasing after your climax. “Come for me, baby.” and with that, you shut your eyes hard and reach your climax. A sensation beyond memory, unparalleled by any you've previously experienced, takes over you as you feel your body twitching in pleasure. 
He makes sure to ride out the pleasure, savoring it for as long as he can. You feel Mark's strokes become sloppy, digging his nails onto your hips so roughly. 
“I’m going to cum-” he says, before reaching his own climax, releasing his load right inside of you, filling you up to the brim. He leaves his cock inside of you as both of your breaths echo through the silence of the room. 
"You're all mine now" Mark presents you with a disconcerting smile. The amusement in his eyes did not lie.
At this very moment, you have given into his deep desires. Mark finally gets his way after all... like he always does....
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sassenach77yle · 14 days
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May 1, 1771 May Union Camp
I glanced sideways, careful not to move in case he was still asleep. He wasn’t. He was lying quite still, though, utterly relaxed, save for his right hand. He had this raised, and appeared to be examining it closely, turning it to and fro and slowly curling and uncurling his fingers—as well as he could. The fourth finger had a fused joint, and was permanently stiff; the middle finger was slightly twisted, a deep white scar spiraling round the middle joint. His hand was callused and battered by work, and the tiny stigma of a nail-wound still showed, pale-pink, in the middle of his palm. The skin of his hand was deeply bronzed and weathered, freckled with sun-blots and scattered with bleached gold hairs. I thought it remarkably beautiful.
“Happy Birthday,” I said, softly. “Taking stock?”
He let the hand fall on his chest, and turned his head to look at me, smiling.Aye, something of the sort. Though I suppose I’ve a few hours left. I was born at half-six; I willna have lived a full half-century until suppertime.” I laughed and rolled onto my side, kicking the blanket off. The air was still delightfully cool, but it wouldn’t last long. “Do you expect to disintegrate much further before supper?” I asked, teasing. “Oh, I dinna suppose anything is likely to fall off by then,” he said, consideringly. “As to the workings . . . aye, well . . .” He arched his back, stretching, and sank back with a gratified groan as my hand settled on him. “It all seems to be in perfect working order,” I assured him. I gave a brief, experimental tug, making him yelp slightly. “Not loose at all.” “Good,” he said, folding his hand firmly over mine to prevent further unauthorized experiments. “How did ye ken what I was doing? Taking stock, as ye say?” I let him keep hold of the hand, but shifted to set my chin in the center of his chest, where a small depression seemed made for the purpose. “I always do that, when I have a birthday—though I generally do it the night before. More looking back, I think, reflecting a bit on the year that’s just gone. But I do check things over; I think perhaps everyone does. Just to see if you’re the same person as the day before.” “I’m reasonably certain that I am,” he assured me. “Ye dinna see any marked changes, do ye?” I lifted my chin from its resting place and looked him over carefully. It was in fact rather hard to look at him objectively; I was both so used to his features and so fond of them that I tended to notice tiny, dear things about him—the freckle on his earlobe, the lower incisor pushing eagerly forward, just slightly out of line with its fellows—and to respond to the slightest change of his expression—but not really to look at him as an integrated whole. He bore my examination tranquilly, eyelids half-lowered against the growing light. His hair had come loose while he slept and feathered over his shoulders, its ruddy waves framing a face strongly marked by both humor and passion—but which possessed a paradoxical and most remarkable capacity for stillness.
“No,” I said at last, and set my chin down again with a contented sigh. “It’s still you.”
[...]
Jamie’s free hand rested on my back, his thumb idly stroking the edge of my shoulder blade. With his usual capacity for mental discipline, he appeared to have dismissed the uncertainty of the military prospects completely from his mind, and was thinking of something else entirely. “Do ye ever think—” he began, and then broke off. “Think what?” I bent and kissed his chest, arching my back to encourage him to rub it, which he did. “Well . . . I’m no so sure I can explain, but it’s struck me that now I have lived longer than my father did—which is not something I expected to happen,” he added, with faint wryness. “It’s only . . . well, it seems odd, is all. I only wondered, did ye ever think of that, yourself—having lost your mother young, I mean?” “Yes.” My face was buried in his chest, my voice muffled in the folds of his shirt. “I used to—when I was younger. Like going on a journey without a map.” His hand on my back paused for a moment. “Aye, that’s it.” He sounded a little surprised. “I kent more or less what it would be like to be a man of thirty, or of forty—but now what?” His chest moved briefly, with a small noise that might have been a mixture of amusement and puzzlement.
“You invent yourself,” I said softly, to the shadows inside the hair that had fallen over my face. “You look at other women—or men; you try on their lives for size. You take what you can use, and you look inside yourself for what you can’t find elsewhere. And always . . . always . . . you wonder if you’re doing it right.”
His hand was warm and heavy on my back. He felt the tears that ran unexpectedly from the corners of my eyes to dampen his shirt, and his other hand came up to touch my head and smooth my hair. “Aye, that’s it,” he said again, very softly. The camp was beginning to stir outside, with clangings and thumps, and the hoarse sound of sleep-rough voices. Overhead, the grasshopper began to chirp, the sound like someone scratching a nail on a copper pot.
“This is a morning my father never saw,” Jamie said, still so softly that I heard it as much through the walls of his chest, as with my ears.
“The world and each day in it is a gift, mo chridhe—no matter what tomorrow may be.”
I sighed deeply and turned my head, to rest my cheek against his chest. He reached over gently and wiped my nose with a fold of his shirt. “And as for taking stock,” he added practically, “I’ve all my teeth, none of my parts are missing, and my cock still stands up by itself in the morning. It could be worse.”
Cap 58 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU ~the fiery cross
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dnalt-d2 · 2 months
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So we've got a new update on the Admin Situation, and this one's…A little complicated, to say the least.
Basically, Quackity has stated that he is opening the server tomorrow to welcome the new Korean Creators, but for the time being, there will be no NPCs, including the Eggs. He's also temporarily laid off nearly, if not all the workers he has, including the people doing the Twitter Updates.
And apparently many of them found this out through the stream, much like we did. This seems to be the biggest point of contention for many people, and I'll admit I'm not happy about it either. The only justification I can think of for this is that he didn't want people to find this all out second-hand from people who potentially don't have the all the information. But even with that, I think they should have been made aware before us, even if it was just by a few minutes. That wouldn't have been ideal either, but it would've been better than not knowing at all
The person who brought this forward initially, Lea, has stated that she knows for sure that "Jay" (The person who made the unauthorized update before) was fired, but to her knowledge, some of the other Admins who caused the problems are still employed. I think this might be one of those things that she doesn't have the full scope of information on, since we were also just informed that pretty much all the Admins aren't currently employed. We do have to keep in mind that she's getting this information from someone else who is apparently still in contact with the team. However, it's obvious that even some of the Admins who weren't initially fired aren't entirely in the loop, which means she wouldn't have been getting all the information either. So I think we need to take some of the things she says moving forward with a grain of salt
I'm not saying she's lying by any means, but when you have limited information to work with, playing a game of telephone to get that information isn't always gonna be that reliable
On top of all that, a lot of people seem to be in agreement that Quackity may have implied that money was being embezzled from him and Quackity Studios. I'm not going to say much on that, since it's TECHNICALLY speculation. However I will at least say that it doesn't seem entirely out of the question, and I wouldn't be even slightly surprised to learn that this was the case
Regardless of how it happened, there was a loss of funds, and this loss of funds means that the server has to start slower than before. Hence the absence of the NPCs on the server, and the current stop on Twitter Updates. It sounded to me like he's planning on bringing people back slowly, making sure they're paid for their roles from here on out. And as the financial situation stabilizes, we'll likely see more Admins return to their roles
I want to believe as of now that things are improving. If they weren't, I believe we would have heard about it by now, from the other Admins. We've already seen an Admins in charge of one of the Twitter Accounts say something, and I'm sure we'll get more news like that soon. But we would have DEFINITELY heard if absolutely nothing was going on. I don't think it's fair for the Admins to have not been notified beforehand, and I think that should be the next problem to fix for sure. But the way I see it, what's happening now is a step in the right direction. It's only the first of many, and not even necessarily a big step, but it's a step nonetheless
Once again, I want to remind people that we aren't going to see these changes being made until we're shown them. People can try to tell us what they know as they find it out themselves, but for all we know, they're only showing the bad parts of what's going on. We should really take any future information, good or bad, with a grain of salt as well. It's easy to say things are getting better or worse, but I think we should wait until we see the changes for ourselves and go from there
(I also wanna say that I've seen speculation from a few people, mostly on Twitter, that "Jay" is probably just Quackity trying to cover his tracks and make a scapegoat for what's happening. But with the information we have, that seems incredibly unlikely. Lea didn't know who he was when he first made his unofficial statement, but her recent tweets imply that she knows who he is now. And considering that she's the one who brought all this up to begin with, I HIGHLY doubt she'd keep quiet if he was actually Quackity)
So now, again, all we can do is wait, and continue giving our support to the people who need it. I want to believe that things can get better. I want to believe that Quackity is trying his best to improve things
Try and stay positive, everyone. Even if the server isn't the same as before, we'll be fine. Even if QSMP shuts down entirely, we'll be fine. At the end of the day, people's health and mental health is more important than a Minecraft Server, and if you feel like your mental health is being impacted by what's going on, please take some time for yourself. Worrying constantly over something we have zero control in isn't going to help anyone. If you need to take a step back, please do so. And when you're ready to come back, we'll still be here, even if the QSMP isn't. We've built a great community, and it's been incredibly fun being a part of it. And I sincerely doubt it's going away, regardless of what happens next
So make sure you take care of yourselves
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radiofreederry · 1 year
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You’ve heard of Goncharov, but have you heard of the (unofficial) sequel?
As we know, Scorcese’s difficulties finding a distributor for Goncharov led to the film only having a limited run in many markets, including in Italy, where it was only screened for two weeks by a smaller regional theater chain. Among those who saw it during this time was a young, gay filmmaker named Cavallo Plinco, who was moved by the story but disappointed by how subtextual its homoerotic content was. In the space of a year, Plinco wrote and filmed his own unauthorized sequel to the film, which he titled Il Riflesso Della Luna Nei Tuoi Occhi.
The film depicts Sofia, now going by Sofia Sanabria and feigning a Spanish heritage, arriving on the island of Sicily, where she meets a South African woman named Ariel Nkosi, just arrived on a work visa. Amidst a backdrop of the burgeoning pride movement, Sofia finds herself torn between embracing her identity and the growing love she feels for Ariel, and a deep sense of Catholic repression and shame, all while she becomes drawn back into the world of organized crime.
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Above: one of only a handful of production stills which survive of the film, depicting the riot scene.
Released in 1974, the film’s unflinching depiction of female sexuality and condemnation of the Church for its anti-gay doctrine rendered it virtually untouchable in Italy, with barely any theaters agreeing to show it, and even only a limited matinee run. Plinco’s own parish priest publicly condemned the film, calling Plinco a “pornographer.” Plinco would be blacklisted from the Italian film industry for the rest of his life, but confidently stated that he had no regrets, even as he died destitute in 1986.
Due to rights issues, the film has never been released on home video, and Scorsese has never acknowledged the unauthorized sequel. However, the film can be watched for free online here.
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ceescedasticity · 2 months
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Highly specific scenario question for the Teleri royals that I’ve been meaning to ask for a while, because I’ll need it for a fic when I finally get to writing it: What would happen if Finrod actually DID bring the swanships back circa 450 FA, and reported that Fëanor and Fingolfin are getting along in Beleriand and the Noldor have Angband besieged, at a stalemate—at least, that’s how it was when Finrod left; apparently he and all his small navy have been enchanted-asleep for several hundred years, and based on many people’s faint senses of exiled loved ones, there was just a massive battle where many died.
How would assorted Olwëans react? How would they react when Finrod inevitably promptly said, “oh god, I have to go back and help fight; who’s with me?”?
Details that may matter:
It’s as near to ALL the Swanships as can be remotely expected—there was attrition of storms, incompetent sailors, 1 or 2 Falthrim fell in love with specific ships and the ships were content to stay with them; but basically all came home, sailed by a combination of the guiltiest, most homesick, and most competent sailors
Finrod reports that Fëanor is officially High King of the Noldor in exile, but functionally Maedhros is High King of the Noldor and Fingolfin and Finrod (now Angrod) are more or less doing as they please as Kings of East and West respectively. Also, Elwë’s forest kingdom is flourishing with his Maia wife and daughter (he thinks the Noldor are collectively assholes), and Nowë and a bunch of people are doing great on the shore, and there’s etc. Laegrim, and dwarves… [Finrod did sail before Men showed up.]
Finrod & co sailed over 300 years ago, and this delay is very directly due to the Valar not letting them in, even though their goal is basically just to apologize and set things right. (If that eases the Doom and/or gets them more allies, well, it’s not the primary goal.)
Ambarussa also came with the world’s most non-apology apology message for Nerdanel from Fëanor, and a smidge of a hint of offer of alliance to the Valar (ie, the instructions for making silima, which he’d previously kept jealously secret). This won’t affect any initial reactions in Alqualondë because the twins sneak ashore separately to deliver it, but the gist of the messages become publicly known.
Of close relatives, Curufin died in that initial terrible battle; more importantly, Aegnor dies within a year afterward. Not long after Aegnor’s death, the Valar assure everyone—and cross-sea death awarenesses confirm—that the conflict has abated again, though it remains more ongoingly active than it has been for several centuries.
It’s narratively convenient for me that no backup reach Beleriand for another 20 years, though you don’t need to hold to that—I can futz with the timeline. What happens in 20 years is, in short order, Fëanor blows up Thangorodrim and active war resumes, and Lúthien comes to Mandos to plead for Beren.
Hmmm…
The ships not getting destroyed is going to make a significant difference in the mood in Alqualondë — for example, Volue will have spent 400-some years pining and fretting rather than seething, and while he's an extreme case he's not alone.
Not pictured: Luinél spending 300 years getting more and more sure the ships are reachable if people will just let her try and quite possibly trying to take Swan-salt out to the Enchanted Isles to look and getting shooed back to Alqualondë by Ainur. —Possibly more than once. —Probably accompanied by Duimiwen, Duinipen, Nettë, Telperin, and in fact Volue on one or more occasion. —Obviously Olwë disapproves of these unauthorized excursions! but he never put Swan-salt under guard, either.
There is still a lot of anger, and still some people who have decided to make hating Noldor their entire personality, but the ships being intact means there's less, and the ships being returned has a lot of meaning.
—I think the end result is going to be some people are still being assholes, but it isn't hard for Olwë to bring the Lindar around to the idea of "the swan-ships aren't leaving our sight [or the harbor, until they get too restless], BUT we will help you build and sail new ships to return to Beleriand".
(When Olwë says that, he adds 'Valar permitting' on the end. Not everyone else does. The ships really being just out of reach for 300 years for Mysterious Valar Reasons hasn't impressed anyone.)
Olwë would rather the Lindar not start volunteering to go to Middle-earth as more than a taxi service, but suspects it's going to be unavoidable.
The Exiles directly involved in the Kinslaying should still expect to be banned from Alqualondë and Lindarin ships until they have made satisfactory apologies.
And like I said there are still angry people — but the predominant mood is more focused on the ships than the Noldor.
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ell-vellan · 4 months
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WIP Wednesday
I haven't done one of these in a long time because it feels like everything I write lately is dull and boring, but I'm trying to break out of the little box I've put myself in.
Tagging a few people who I thought might have a bit of work to share, but no pressure: @thebookworm0001 @the-grandest-plan @thegoblinwitchqueen
And please take this as an excuse to post your WIP even if I didn't tag you!
Content warning: this is a "should we have a baby? and how?" conversation between El/Bull with...unconventional options, lol. so it's under the cut!
They'd talked about it, just the once. When El had gotten her courage up and tentatively asked what he’d meant that time, way back in the beginning, that they didn’t have to worry about pregnancy. 
Bull had explained the way tamassrans perform a reversible sterilization procedure on every Qunari when they got their assignments around age 12 as though it were a normal mark of growing up. Something like her vallaslin. The tamassrans, of course, would not allow any unauthorized reproduction under the Qun. Everything was strategically, meticulously planned, even the bloodlines of their people. Children were not simply born, but created with a purpose already in mind. Breeding stock. Like her people did with halla.
Unless they were specifically chosen later in life to be part of the breeding program and the procedure undone, there would never be any accidents or surprises, he'd told her. 
She hadn't expected the strange mix of emotions that welled up in her throat, choking her. Couldn’t control the strong reaction from showing on her face that arose before she could hide it.
“Hey, hey, come here,” Bull said with surprise as he pulled her into his arms. “I'm sorry, El, I should've explained a long time ago. This conversation usually comes up earlier. Or not at all.”
“No, I’m fine.” She shook her head and tried to step out of his arms, but he wouldn't let her leave. “It’s not like it was a surprise. It's just..."
“There was a reason you asked."
El sighed. “It's foolish. Go ahead, you can say it. I know. Obviously I should ever have expected…Of course we can’t have children. What a ridiculous notion. I mean, at the very least, our jobs--”
“It’s okay,” Bull murmured. “You’re allowed to want stuff for yourself, El.”
“I want you. That's enough. I shouldn’t still be holding onto silly dreams from childhood. Yet somehow...until just now, I hadn't yet confronted the fact that my life will never be as I once thought it would."
She was irrevocably on a different path. Even if she could have a family with Bull, it wouldn't be a Dalish one.
“Your future looks a little different than you imagined,” Bull finished quietly. “I know. Same here.”
“Nothing about my life now is how I imagined it. Not just this. It's not the first time my plans have had to change.”
Bull made an unhappy sound. “You want kids, though? Even if it’s a ways down the line?”
Ellawyn hesitated. “I want children in the same way I want most other impossible things. I want to be rid of this anchor in my hand. I want to not be Inquisitor. I want my normal life back. It's just yet another reminder that my life isn’t my own…But it doesn't quite matter what I want. I’ve learned better than to make plans.”
He made another sound of dismay. “Yeah, but this is one thing that’s not impossible for you. And I don't like you giving up shit you wanted from life. You already got dealt a crappy hand with everything else. The war's over, the Inquisition doesn't need you anymore. You can do whatever."
She turned in his lap to face him, her expression grave. “You’re acting as though this is still possible. When you just told me that it isn't.”
Bull hesitated. “I...could get it reversed." Slowly, deliberately neutral. A statement of fact, not necessarily an offer. "It's possible, in theory. Tamassrans leave that option open on purpose."
She stared at him. “But you don’t want to.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it's what you think.”
Bull looked at her, lips pressed tight, and exhaled a sigh through his nose. “I’m wary, is all. It’d be dangerous for you. And there’s no guarantee it would even work.”
And then he told her there was another option. 
She balked, immediately. “You want me to sleep with someone else?”
Bull held up his hands placatingly. “Only way to have an elven baby is for that baby to have two elven parents,” Bull said evenly, watching her carefully. “You told me how precious elven children are in your culture. And I’m not the jealous type. You know that.”
“But…” 
Everything felt weak and watery inside her. He was right. She couldn't have an elven baby and Bull’s. It wasn't possible. 
She would have to choose.
Bull was entirely too calm. “I'm saying it's an option I'm okay with, that's all. Not something you have to do. And nobody's saying you have to decide anything right now, either."
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paperanddice · 1 year
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So, I haven't wanted to talk publicly about an updated OGL, because until this point it seemed pointless. While there were a few people claiming to have leaked copies, no one was sharing any information in a useful or coherent way and it all read as doomsaying and speculation. This is the first thorough, detailed and trustworthy source I've seen, and it bodes extremely poorly.
To summarize, publishing D&D content right now is done in two major ways: through the Open Gaming License, or through the DM's Guild.
If published through the OGL, you can only use specific material that has been placed in the System Reference Document. Any material published that has not been added to that document cannot be referenced in your work, and this includes functionally all proper names of characters, places, settings, and the books themselves, as well as certain intellectual property such as beholders and mind flayers. So long as you don't touch any intellectual property and put the proper legal writing in your document, you can produce (nearly) anything you like under the OGL and maintain full control and ownership over your product. I have released a few premade adventures under it, and have other projects and ideas that have been slowly building up that would be best placed in a similar situation.
If you publish through the DMG, you have far fewer restrictions on intellectual property. You can make use of anything published for 5e (outside of a few things like the Acquisitions Incorporated book), you can publish within certain settings such as Eberron and the Forgotten Realms, you can have a mind flayer as your big boss. But you give up a large cut of any profits, and you give up your right to publish your work anywhere else. This includes preventing you from giving away free copies through Patreon or Kickstarter, putting it for sale on sites like itch.io, anything. The DMG gains exclusive publishing rights.
Which of these you use is your choice (I avoided the DMG), but according to the leaked text of the updated OGL this will be going away. The big changes include not allowing the creation of any material except for print and electronic books under the OGL, revenue splitting over a certain threshold, requiring you to send Wizards a copy of everything you publish and a description of it, allowing Wizards to use any material you publish under the OGL without attribution or compensation, and, very importantly, rendering the previous version of the OGL unauthorized. This prevents anyone from continuing to publish under the old rules, forcing anyone who wants to make D&D content (aside from free fan content) to use the new version.
I hope that this is wrong. Either because Wizards saw the response and walked back the demands, or the person who leaked the draft just invented it for drama. If this OGL goes through as written, it is not an Open Gaming License. It is highly restrictive and puts everything that third party publishers ever make under intense scrutiny, as well as giving away all of their products to Wizards. While very little in this is likely to affect me, as everything I release on here is covered under Fan Content and not subject to these rules, I am still disgusted by this incredibly poor faith move.
There's already a great deal of discussion on whether Wizards has the legal authority to void the original OGL in this way. The only way to determine this for certain is most likely a major legal battle between Wizards and whoever thinks they have a strong enough case to win it. Of the major companies likely to be affected by this, only Paizo, and maybe a few others like Kobold Press and Green Ronin have the money to commit to that. And even then, it may not be worth it for them. If this OGL goes through, it will kill the majority of third party publishing, damage Wizard's reputation greatly, and end my relationship with D&D permanently. If the OGL 1.0 is killed, I will never play or write material for D&D ever again.
What happens to Pathfinder and 13th Age, as well as the many other games that used the OGL in their publication, can't be determined now. They're not talking about it, and have likely been involved in negotiations for weeks over this. Depending on how it plays out, they might be forced to convert to the new OGL, they might shut down, they might heavily rework their games to be independent of the OGL. I have no idea.
What happens to Paper and Dice is even more up in the air. I don't intend to stop playing TTRPGs, and if I play them I will almost definitely be making content for them. But most of the games I'm interested in are OGL based, so what I'll play is uncertain. I'm not asking for recommendations, I've tried a number of other games and so far haven't found anything greatly to my interest. Until we get an official announcement from Wizards of the Coast, I'll continue to be making content as normal, and we'll see what happens when they speak up.
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thydungeongal · 1 year
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If your turnover is above $750000 you can probably afford to give WotC their cut. If you simply have “free” content and a Patreon you don’t have to do anything. Everyone else is going to have to fill in an online form and refrain from making commercial video games, animated shows which use their IP (such as named character) and NFT’s. God forbid.
Don't get me wrong, a lot of the stuff in the 1.1 OGL is boilerplate and understandable, but even then it's bad.
Like okay, I understand their intent: they're trying to make D&D a closed ecosystem where you have to pay WotC if you want to take part in it. I can understand not wanting to give people the ability to make unlicensed video games or films or whatever. I can even understand their policy for making content for One D&D under the OGL: if you want to make content for One D&D you gotta play by their rules. Like, it's the sort of behavior I can simply chalk up to "well, shitty company being shitty" and WotC wanting to monetize their brand more. Even then, I've seen some creators (and not even ones associated with big names like Paizo) say that the $750,000 number is very low, because it refers to revenue, not profit. I understand why Wizards would do it, but even then I'm like "yeah that sucks, don't really want to support that ecosystem any more."
So yeah, there's some understandable stuff there (not wanting unlicensed D&D video games and other derivative products) coupled with stuff I think is shitty towards third party producers but in a way where it's just par for the course for a shitty company that's a subsidiary or Hasbro. Like, I can understand all of it and see why they'd want a closed ecosystem, and it's still enough for me to say "yeah nah, I don't want to support this game any more." If someone does, that's not a value judgement on them, I just don't see myself doing it.
But all of that is incidental to my main problem, which is the implication that Wizards seeks to "deauthorize" the 1.0 OGL. I get it, the OGL ended up creating some of D&D's biggest competitors, including Pathfinder, but in my view that genie is out of the bottle. I'm not a lawyer and this whole situation is messy, but based on my reading just declaring that the 1.0 OGL is "unauthorized" from now on isn't necessarily something that WotC can enforce, but they certainly will try unless someone takes them to court for it.
And like, even if Wizards is correct in stating that they can simply "unauthorize" the OGL 1.0 and that anyone (including Paizo and OSR creators) must abide by the OGL 1.1 I would still call bullshit. Even though Pathfinder and many other similarly derivative games exist by virtue of the OGL there is still a lot of creative work that goes into creating and supporting them. I do not believe that Wizards of the Coast deserves a single dime from Paizo or Necrotic Gnome or anyone else who's been producing content under the OGL 1.0.
So here are my points:
I think WotC is right to enforce whatever kind of license they want for D&D. Whether people want to partake in that ecosystem is up to them.
Having said that, many companies produce content using the OGL 1.0 and Wizards apparently trying to make that no longer possible seems extremely brazen. The fact that WotC would even try to unauthorize the OGL 1.0 (which, again, I'm not even sure if they can legally do) says enough about WotC's character as a company that I don't want to support the company in any way possible, because we're talking about WotC wanting to enforce their license on companies that produce games that are wholly unreliant on D&D 5e.
(But also where the hell did "named characters" come from? Named characters are explicitly not a part of the OGL and never have been, named characters have always been specifically stated as being product identity and thus not falling under the OGL?)
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anryuuepic · 4 days
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Chemical Hazard Bio
Name: Chemical Hazard
Species: Daryan
Race: Whitescale
Role: An Assistant-rank member of Winterkill Works, who works directly under Korose. A former subject of an unauthorized Scarab Tower experiment, she and her siblings have come to believe that they’re one being that shares three bodies. She’s the “weak link” of their unit.
Affiliation: Winterkill Works, Scarab Tower (former)
Gender: Female
Age: 14
Height: 5’4
Appearance: Underneath her perpetually worn mask, Chemical is a fairly average Whitescale teenager. Her hair and eyes are both light gray (she most often wears her hair in low twintails), her features are visibly youthful, and her body is slim to the point of looking undernourished. Her face is indistinguishable from the other two, and her expressions are eerily blank.
Personality: Though she’s internally and rationally aware that their “three bodies, one being” mentality is false, Chemical never lets herself dwell on that thought for long. She’s highly submissive to her siblings, especially her sister, and dreads the very thought of causing any disturbance to them. Her existence feels so fragile already, she fears that the slightest wrongdoing on her part could prove disastrous. Curiosity is dangerous, if it in any way threatens the version of normalcy that’s the only thing the three of them have to cling to. Outwardly, she’s more or less emotionless. Apathetic, yet almost childishly naive, Chemical and her siblings come across as bizarre, uncanny beings who fall slightly short of fully realized “personhood”. 
Positive Traits: Chemical is deeply loyal to her siblings, and cares for them above anything else in her life. This attachment is highly co-dependent and born from shared trauma, but even that warped love is genuine, at its core. Though she tries to suppress it, she’s quite perceptive, especially when it comes to the moods of the people around her, and she can be surprisingly quick-thinking in a crisis. She values other people’s happiness far more than her own, and will willingly make difficult sacrifices for a greater good. 
Negative Traits: Chemical is ultimately submissive to the needs of the triplets’ set— or at least, what she perceives those needs to be. She’s indecisive and brimming with self-doubt, so much so that any opinions that begin to develop are quickly cast aside. She’d rather suffer internally than cause any upset for the group, all in fear of being hurt for it. Like the other two, she’s extremely ignorant, gullible, and immature, while outwardly coming across as a near-thoughtless shell that can scarcely think for herself.
History: At some point, the three siblings were homeless orphans living in a certain run-down city. After they were randomly selected as subjects by an “independent” group of Scarab Tower scientists, however, their lives changed drastically. Extensive experimentation shifted their memories and perception of the world and left them unable to function as anything but controlled test subjects— Korose, burdened with guilt from her involvement in the testing, took responsibility for them after the experiment was interrupted.
Relationships: Chemical has very little interaction with anyone outside of her siblings. Though they have fairly regular contact with the other Super Executives and their Assistants, the triplets don’t see themselves as capable of autonomous interaction with others, and thus, merely follow whatever directions they’re given. The three of them are highly dependent on each other... though Chemical is the least content with that arrangement.
Interests: Chemical, like her siblings, doesn’t see any need or capacity for personal interests— she exists to do as she’s told, keep the set together, and little else. That said, the three of them sometimes show a curious fondness for unknown objects and places; Chemical particularly enjoys decorations.  
WW Role: As an Assistant-rank member of Winterkill Works, Chemical’s job is to assist a chosen Super Executive however they may require it. She serves under Korose, who treats all three of the siblings with a twisted sort of fondness born from guilt. Like the rest of the set, Chemical views Korose as more or less their owner, and follows her orders unquestioningly. 
Miscellaneous: All three of them have very few, if any, memories from their early lives. They know they’ve always been together, but seemingly mundane things (like family or past homes) are entirely absent. Korose is the closest thing to a parent they’ve ever had, but Chemical is still rather afraid of her. Korose has made efforts to teach the triplets literacy, but their progress has been minimal. The unique, often acquired details of personal, decorative objects fascinate her; Chemical will take any chance she can get to study such objects, though that mostly entails spaced-out staring.
Connotative Description: Part of a set of triplets whose time as experimental subjects significantly warped their worldview. The most “independent” of the group, yet unwilling to voice her true feelings. 
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nameissmile · 19 days
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Literally nobody will ever find out how much art I make it's fucking crazy like. So many doodles so many hours upon hours of working on something only to never show the product to anyone so many works in progress that will never get finished so many sketches and ideas and doodles inspired by songs and videos and drawings of friends or friends ocs or things based of what in reading or watching or listening to- did you know i draw something every single day? Even if it's just warm ups or a silly doodle in the margins it's *something*
The sheer amount of art on my procreate could likely fill up several sketch books worth of sketches and doodles and finished peices and half done, only inked, only colored, half rendered peices. It would be like. At least twenty sketch books haha
Anyways I'm sorry?? I guess??? I want to share but so much of it Is basically nothing to everybody because my OCs are mine!!! You can hear about them but you will never see them!!! I have about 20ish OCs and when divided into (uneven) thirds they each have their own story and plotline and characteristics like. I might just make all my canvases (filled with a horrible mistake of sketches and finished peices) each a number so y'all can ask about them on any of my blogs ( @gascansposts @screaming-at-all-times )
This was mostly inspired by just. So many thoughts. Apologies for the unauthorized content we'll get back to standard broadcasting soon!
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pearwaldorf · 1 year
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content notes: worker exploitation, exposure to traumatizing content, descriptions of sexual assault
We knew that ChatGPT had scraped AO3 but this TIME article is the first confirmation from a news organization I know of that has explicitly confirmed a fic was used in training.
So if you're going to release an AI out into the world, it needs safety tools. And you need data to show it what it needs to look out for. This is all basic machine learning stuff. Things this tool need to learn to recognize include:
child sexual abuse, bestiality, murder, suicide, torture, self harm, and incest.
And one of the things mentioned was a non-con fic in which a superhero sexually assaults his sidekick. The article does not mention which site you can find the fic on, but it is entirely possible it could be from AO3.
(Don't you dare use this as a justification for saying this is why this sort of thing shouldn't exist on the internet. That's bullshit and not the discussion we're having here.)
Most authors are not sadists (to real people anyways). If this was on AO3 a warning would be required at the very least. This is not the sort of thing you want somebody to read if they don't want to, and it makes me feel ill knowing somebody was forced to do so. I think the author would be horrified as well.
The thing about a lot of AI is it is obscured manual labor by humans, a la the Mechanical Turk, who are usually not treated well. ChatGPT is in a long line of companies (including Facebook and Twitter) who exploit workers, usually in the Global South, to do unpleasant and often harmful work for cheap.
I also don't think we as fanfiction authors (I certainly wasn't) were cognizant of how our work, decontextualized from safeguards like warnings and tags, could be used to inflict harm without our knowledge or consent.
This does not mean we should stop writing things things like that, but we need to think about ways to limit access to unauthorized collection/scraping of our work on a systemic level. I don't think we can do anything about what's already in ChatGPT's training data, but there may be ways to prevent them and other companies like them from getting more; and to force removal if it comes to it.
I don't have definitive answers, and I'm not sure I'm the person who should be coming up with them, but it's something I'm happy to discuss with people and/or groups who are better suited for it.
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thestalkerbunny · 7 months
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So like.
Staff day went okay.
Lemme outline some hot points. Lemme just SHARE my Day with you guys.
(content warning for mentions about shootings cause that I was literally 4 hours of my day having to listen to that, but it was mostly 'what to do in a scary situation' advice. Nothing in depth, just general stuff)
-Had breakfast there. I got a tangerine and some baby muffins. It was rather nice.
-Learned from my coworkers who were also there cause it was ALL the workers from every branch-that in the 3 days I had off, the guy who keeps SMOKING in the bathrooms is back, is now VAPING, blew a vape cloud in a child's face and then followed a female patron out of the building to make a sexual comment on her FEET. This is apparently not his first FOOT BASED OFFENSE HERE and makes me glad I wear closed toe shoes at all times when I'm out and about.
-Opening words/statements/awards for the librarians who have been on the job for nearly 20 plus years. This is blazed through in less than 10 minutes.
-THEN WE GET TO WHAT WE'RE ALL THERE FOR. The 'What to do during an active shooting' seminar with some kind of group that specializes in showing people what to do in said crisis as well as evaluating public buildings to make sure they're secure in case of said crisis.
-A lot of statistics. Stressful statistics. Upsetting Statistics.
-Know your corners people; Corners save LIVES -Seminar Lady talking about how it's important to find secure corners where a gunman cannot do the weird angle around and fire at you. Those of us who went to public schools in the last past decade know what I'm talking about when I say the safe corners of the room
A morbid thought. But I will now take corners into valid consideration more often than I usually do.
-We also review some footage, mainly diagrams n stuff, etc etc. best advice given was 'don't fucking STOP RUNNING once you're out-fucking put some DISTANCE on you and that bitch-only YOU can tell if you feel safe.' and 'fucking car doors won't protect you-bullets go through that shit like paper, find CONCRETE, Brick WALL, Building Support beams.'
-After very upsetting statistics and advice on corners, locked doors, etc. etc. We break for catered lunch. It is burgers and weenies with banana pudding on the side. Weenies were great, the burger was kinda red in the middle and I didn't care too much for that. A lovely lunch in honest option.
-After Lunch. Hands on Demonstration.
-First we're instructed on how to disarm an armed individual with a gun, different methods for different guns, it is important to portray confidence and aggression in the situation because it's a you or them situation and you must come out on top. Lady said you have full authority in the situation to make sure that son of a bitch stays DOWN until more help arrives.
-It is then followed up with this short 5'5 lady showing us how to do the unauthorized choke hold and then she said 'OKAY. NOW YA'LL ARE GONNA DO IT ON EACH OTHER'
-Bestillmybeatingheat.jpg- -It's just like BIBLE CAMP ALL OVER AGAIN.-
-We have to take partners and in a supervised controlled situation with the trained demonstrators who know what to look for teach us how to choke a bitch out. My partner had arms the sizes of babies and I did forewarn him that the last person that did that to me did, recieved a bite out of my natural reaction. I did graze him a bit with my teeth-but other than that, he was fine. Weird sensation. Highly did not care for it.
-My turn to choke him out. Forgot that he-my constant coworker-is a man of many many weird body quirks and one of them is a sort of low LOW response to pain/pressure. He's just patting his legs and humming while I'm trying to choke him out. He's also like 6ft tall and I'm 5'5 so it's like a goblin yeeting itself up to choke an orc.
-We get to the next part which is how to apply a tourniquet. Which I will tell you, applying it to yourself, hurts like a fucking BITCH. Which it's supposed to I guess? Cause the point is to stop blood from escaping your meaty flesh prison. But I won't lie, I REALLY did not care for it considering how they had to go around and check and make sure everyone did it right and I'm standing here, my arm going numb and having to stand at the same time-not a fun combo.
-We follow that up with how to treat different kinds of wounds, emergency wound dressing, the need to make sure any hole put in the torso area is covered with a seal cause air is not the torso's friend when you have a hole in it. Honestly interesting stuff. I would do a more Indepth class if they had it. I feel like emergency first aid should be taught in general schools as a sort of part of home ec. Cooking, Money Management, Medical First Aid. Just as a valuable general life skill.
-Closing words, a drawing for gift cards that I didn't enter cause they all seemed kinda crummy gift cards. I leave. I go home. I pass out in my bed for nearly 5 solid hours because I'm so exhausted.
Tl;dr: Know your corners, air is not the torso wound's friend-learn to choke a bitch.
This all also made me want to fucking take up judo? Or one of those sports where you learn to flip someone regardless of size based on leverage and center of gravity.
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comeonamericawakeup · 11 months
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Looks like his goose is cooked but good!
Unbelievable!!
HEATHER COX RICHARDSON
JUN 10
At 3:00 today, Washington D.C., time, Special Counsel Jack Smith delivered a statement about the recently unsealed indictment charging former president Donald J. Trump on 37 counts of violating national security laws as well as participating in a conspiracy to obstruct justice.
Although MAGA Republicans have tried to paint the indictment as a political move by the Biden administration over a piddling error, Smith immediately reminded people that “[t]his indictment was voted by a grand jury of citizens in the Southern District of Florida, and I invite everyone to read it in full to understand the scope and the gravity of the crimes charged.”
The indictment is, indeed, jaw dropping.
It alleges that during his time in the White House, Trump stored in cardboard boxes “information regarding defense and weapons capabilities of both the United States and foreign countries; United States nuclear programs; potential vulnerabilities of the United States and its allies to military attack; and plans for possible retaliation in response to a foreign attack.” The indictment notes that “[t]he unauthorized disclosure of these classified documents could put at risk the national security of the United States, foreign relations, the safety of the United States military, and human sources and the continued viability of sensitive intelligence collection methods.”
Nonetheless, when Trump ceased to be president after noon on January 20, 2021, he took those boxes, “many of which contained classified documents,” to Mar-a-Lago, where he was living. He “was not authorized to possess or retain those classified documents.” The indictment makes it clear that this was no oversight: Trump was personally involved in packing the boxes and, later, in going through them and in overseeing how they were handled. The employees who worked for him exchanged text messages referring to his personal instructions about them.
Mar-a-Lago was not an authorized location for such documents, but he stored them there anyway, “including in a ballroom, a bathroom and shower, an office space, his bedroom, and a storage room.” They were stacked in public places, where anyone—including the many foreign nationals who visited Mar-a-Lago—could see them. On December 7, 2021, Trump’s personal aide Waltine Nauta took two pictures of several of the boxes fallen on the floor, with their contents, including a secret document available only to the Five Eyes intelligence alliance of the U.S., Australia, Canada, New Zealand, and the United Kingdom, spilled onto the floor.
The indictment alleges that Trump showed classified documents to others without security clearances on two occasions, both of which are well documented. One of those occasions was recorded. Trump told the people there that the plan he was showing them was “highly confidential” and “secret.” He added, “See, as president I could have declassified it….Now I can’t, you know, but this is still a secret.”
This recording undermines his insistence that he believed he could automatically declassify documents; it proves he understood he could not. In addition, the indictment lists Trump’s many statements from 2016 about the importance of protecting classified information, all delivered as attacks on Democratic presidential nominee Hillary Clinton, whom he accused of mishandling such information. “In my administration,” he said on August 18, 2016, “I’m going to enforce all laws concerning the protection of classified information. No one will be above the law.”
The indictment goes on: When the FBI tried to recover the documents, Trump started what Washington Post journalist Jennifer Rubin called a “giant shell game”: he tried to get his lawyer to lie to the FBI and the grand jury, saying Trump did not have more documents; worked with Nauta to move some of the boxes to hide them from Trump’s lawyer, the FBI and the grand jury; tried to get his lawyer to hide or destroy documents; and got another lawyer to certify that all the documents had been produced when he knew they hadn’t.
Nauta lied to the grand jury about his knowledge of what Trump did with the boxes. Both he and Trump have been indicted on multiple counts of obstruction and of engaging in a conspiracy to hide the documents.
Eventually, Trump had many of the boxes moved to his property at Bedminster, New Jersey, where on two occasions he showed documents to people without security clearances. He showed a classified map of a country that is part of an ongoing military operation to a representative of his political action committee.
Trump has been indicted on 31 counts of having “unauthorized possession of, access to, and control over documents relating to the national defense,” for keeping them, and for refusing “to deliver them to the officer and employee of the United States entitled to receive them”: language straight out of the Espionage Act. Twenty-one of the documents were marked top secret, nine were marked secret, and one was unmarked.
These documents are not all those recovered—some likely are too sensitive to risk making public—but they nonetheless hold some of the nation’s deepest secrets: “military capabilities of a foreign country and the United States,” “military activities and planning of foreign countries,” “nuclear capabilities of a foreign country,” “military attacks by a foreign country,” “military contingency planning of the United States,” “military options of a foreign country and potential effects on United States interest,” “foreign country support of terrorist acts against United States interests,” “nuclear weaponry of the United States,” “military activity in a foreign country.”
Smith put it starkly in his statement, “The men and women of the United States intelligence community and our armed forces dedicate their lives to protecting our nation and its people. Our laws that protect national defense information are critical to the safety and security of the United States and they must be enforced. Violations of those laws put our country at risk.”
On Twitter, Bill Kristol said it more clearly: “These were highly classified documents dealing with military intelligence and plans. What did Trump do with them? Who now has copies of them?” Retired FBI assistant director Frank Figliuzzi noted that there is a substantial risk that “foreign intelligence services might have sought or gained access to the documents.”
There is also substantial risk that other countries will be reluctant to share intelligence with the United States in the future. At the very least, it is an unfortunate coincidence that the Central Intelligence Agency in October 2021 reported an unusually high rate of capture or death for foreign informants recruited to spy for the United States.
Since Trump supporters have taken the position that Trump’s indictment over the stolen documents is the attempt of the Biden administration to undermine Trump’s presidential candidacy, it is worth remembering that Trump’s early announcement of his campaign was widely suspected to be an attempt to enable him to avoid legal accountability. Attorney General Merrick Garland appointed Special Counsel Jack Smith precisely to put arms length between the administration and the investigations into Trump.
Smith noted today, “Adherence to the rule of law is a bedrock principle of the Department of Justice. And our nation’s commitment to the rule of law sets an example for the world. We have one set of laws in this country, and they apply to everyone. Applying those laws. Collecting facts. That’s what determines the outcome of an investigation. Nothing more. Nothing less.
“The prosecutors in my office are among the most talented and experienced in the Department of Justice. They have investigated this case hewing to the highest ethical standards. And they will continue to do so as this case proceeds.”
Smith added: “It’s very important for me to note that the defendants in this case must be presumed innocent until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt in a court of law. To that end, my office will seek a speedy trial in this matter. Consistent with the public interest and the rights of the accused. We very much look forward to presenting our case to a jury of citizens in the Southern District of Florida.”
Likely responding to MAGA attacks on the FBI and the rule of law, Smith thanked the “dedicated public servants of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, with whom my office is conducting this investigation and who worked tirelessly every day upholding the rule of law in our country,” before closing his brief statement.
The indictment revealed just how much detailed information Smith’s team has uncovered, presenting a shockingly thorough case to prove the allegations. Trump’s lawyers will have their work cut out for them…although the team has shifted since this morning: two of Trump’s lawyers quit today. The thoroughness of the indictment also suggests that Trump and his allies might have reason to be nervous about Smith’s other investigation: the one into the attempt to overturn results of the 2020 election.
Some of Trump’s supporters are calling for violence. After Louisiana representative Clay Higgins appeared to be egging on militias to oppose Trump’s Tuesday arraignment, Democratic senate majority leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY) and House minority leader Hakeem Jeffries (D-NY) issued a joint statement calling for “supporters and critics alike to let the case proceed peacefully in court.” Legal scholar Joyce White Vance noted that it was “extremely sad for our country that this isn’t a bipartisan statement being made by leaders from both parties.”
A lengthy and complete summary
#Trump federal indictment
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callsign-daydream · 11 months
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Head in the Clouds, Eyes to the Sun - Chapter 3 - Trouble
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Chapter Summary: Hallie’s temper gets her into a bit of a mess. (Missed Part 2? Read it here.)
Warnings/Contents: Starred out swearing, alcohol, Hallie gets drunk, General Navy/military inaccuracies, some Hangman X OC, a lot of fluff
Word count: 2212
A/N: Back again! I love this chapter a lot since we get to see a little more of Hallie’s uncool side, Mav not totally throwing her under the bus, and some defrosting between Hangman and Hallie, but most of all, PENNY! I love her just kind of mom-ing these chaotic people. This one is a bit of a long one, but it’s got a lot of fluff at the end for your trouble. Enjoy!
---
Chapter 3: Trouble
--- Saturday’s plans should have been to call her brother. Or go to the beach with Phoenix, Bob, and Rooster. Do some grocery shopping. Video call some Italian friends. Or literally anything else aside from what Hallie actually did.
She’d woken up early, pouted through her bowl of Cocoa Puffs, and paced as she quite literally threw her laundry in the wash. The more she grumbled, the more frustrated she became, until she had her flight suit on and bag in hand and squealed her Jeep into TOPGUN.
“I thought Dagger Squadron was off today?” the guard asked her.
“I have a special training assignment as the newbie,” Hallie lied. “You know Maverick.”
That was plenty to get her in.
She quickly put her things in the locker room and silenced her phone. The last thing she needed was a surprise notification drawing a less trusting guard. Her face was set firm as a statue as she strode to the hangar. Her plan was simple. Acquire a plane, run yesterday’s training exercise, and show Maverick how wrong he was in keeping her grounded. It was a foolproof plan. If she could figure out the logistics of acquiring a plane without getting court-martialed.
Hallie was still puzzling over that small issue when she crashed into her Captain.
It took a grand total of one second for Maverick to register exactly who walked into him, and only half of one second to piece together the reason the blonde Lieutenant was there on a weekend off. He frowned and crossed his arms.
“Daydream,” he said. “I thought I gave you all the day off.”
Hallie swallowed. “You did.”
“Which means there’s not a good reason for me to be bumping into you right now.”
Hallie bit her lip.
“Or for you to be preparing to fly unauthorized.”
It sounded worse when he said it that way.
Maverick sighed. “Do you realize I could technically write you up for this?”
The California heat suddenly felt twenty degrees warmer. It hit Hallie all at once; this could’ve been the end of her Naval career. Phoenix would’ve been disappointed in her. The whole squadron would be. Captain Chip would’ve been.
Her father would’ve been.
Maverick seemed to recognize that she was mentally lecturing herself and didn’t press the matter further. Instead, he placed a hand on her shoulder and looked her in the eye.
“Go home, Lieutenant.”
Hallie swallowed, nodded, and left.
“Another.”
Penny sighed as Hallie set down the empty glass on the counter. “Hal, you’ve already emptied two glasses faster than any of the guys around here.”
“Don’t care.”
Hallie rolled her head on the counter. It was cold against her cheek and ear as she looked up. The glass Penny grabbed clinked, strangely audible in the near-vacant bar.
“You’ll care tomorrow morning.” Penny set another Long Island Iced Tea in front of the blonde.
Hallie ignored the warning and set to work. It was her comfort drink, admittedly, and she knew it would take at least two more until she felt any bit of comfort.
“Does it have to do with Mav?” Penny asked.
“I didn’t say that…”
“You’re not exactly subtle, Hal. And it may get loud in here, but it’s my job to see and hear everything.”
Hallie frowned, then sipped some more. It was getting warm. She slipped her dad’s jacket off and set it on the counter, quickly resting her chin on the cold counter again.
Penny studied her visitor for a minute. “Do you have a ride home?”
“Jeep.”
“Nuh uh. I’m not letting you drive home.”
Hallie sat up. “I can drive!”
“No. Call Phoenix or Bob or someone.”
The last thing Hallie wanted to do was talk to any of the Daggers. There were too many questions she didn’t want to answer, and if any of them ever found out about her stunt from the day, she’d hurl herself into the Pacific Ocean.
“If you don’t want to call, you can stay here until they come.” Penny began wiping the counter, confiscating Hallie’s glass in the process.
Hallie whined and began hitting her head on the bar.
“Hey.” Penny lightly tapped Hallie’s shoulder. “Stop that.”
“Can I get another one?” Hallie peeked up.
Penny sighed and shook her head, but began on the drink anyway.
Hallie stared up at the hanging mugs. The sun was hitting them in a way that made them look like little stars in the bar, or at least to Hallie’s current state. Just as the tension in her shoulders was starting to give way, the front door slammed open and in walked none other than Jake Seresin.
Hallie stayed still, hoping to remain unnoticed.
“You’re here early,” Penny greeted him.
“Just here to settle my tab from last night,” he drawled.Hallie’s attempt to turn invisible evidently failed, as he looked over at her, smirked, and then added: “thanks to this lady.”
Penny set the glass in front of Hallie, who immediately took a gulp.
“I thought your callsign was Daydream, not Daydrink,” Jake teased.
Hallie threw a straw at him. He laughed while Penny gave her a stern look. The sternness gave way to a small flicker that held all the foreboding of a grey sky.
“Say, Hangman,” Penny began, “I’ll give you a discount on this bill if you do me a favor.”
Jake leaned on the counter. “Always eager to oblige.”
Hallie stared at her glass to avoid looking at Jake’s posed jeans too long. She shook her head to clear the image, but only succeeded in making herself dizzy. Her fingers gripped at the counter.
“Hal needs a ride home,” Penny said.
Hallie sat up straight. “Do not!”
“So you’re staying here?”
“No…”
“I don’t mind,” Jake said. Hallie could hardly believe her ears. “No need for any discount.”
“I don’t need a ride!”
“You’re not on comms, Dreamgirl. No need to shout.”
Hallie frowned. In her mind, she could make the corners of her lips touch the floorboards, though she wasn’t sure if her displeasure was more for Jake’s or Penny’s benefit.
“I’m not going.”
A few young TOPGUN students walked in, talking low to each other. Hallie bit her lip. It was getting late. The locals and first-years would start coming in first, and her teammates would follow soon after in the second wave of naval personnel. There was also the high likelihood of Maverick himself showing up. For a second, she thought she might spew all of the alcohol in her stomach. Penny gave her a knowing look.
“Fine. Let’s go.”
She stood and the room spun. She grabbed the counter again. A warm hand suddenly took her by the forearm, and it took her a second to realize it was Jake.
“Easy there,” he said.
Hallie pulled away, uttering a choice Italian word. Jake chuckled, apparently not needing a translation for that one.
“Be careful with that one,” Penny said as they left. “I’ll see you two later.”
The sun was giving its last golden effort to deep fry San Diego. Heat emanated off the pavement, and Hallie’s Jeep reflected the light into her eyes. She held up a hand and moved for the vehicle, but only made it two steps before Jake’s hand stopped her once again.
“Would you stop that?” She whined.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Hallie pointed. “Jeep.”
“No way. You’re coming with me.”
“I don’t want to.
“Well, that’s too bad.” He kept his grip firm. “I’m a man of my word, Dreamgirl, and I’m not taking the fall for it when the Navy finds out you got in an accident because of me letting you drive.”
Hallie pouted.
“My truck. Now.”
She looked up and was met not with Hangman or Jake, but with Lieutenant Seresin, naval aviator. His jaw set, mouth straight, eyes slightly squinted in the light. Sweat was beading at his hairline, but he showed no signs of moving anytime soon. She could stand there and stare back all she wanted, but it would take an act of God to sway the man in front of her. It was the attitude that had carried him this far in his career and would propel him further.
“Hal.”
She blinked. He never used that nickname for her.
“I don’t want them asking about me,” she mumbled.
“What?”
“Nat and Bob and…if my Jeep’s here…”
Jake released her, seemingly able to puzzle out her meaning and satisfied that she wasn’t going to try running off. He stared off for a minute. Hallie had a good view of his profile. She mentally cursed the alcohol as the cause of her staring a moment too long.
Finally, he held his hand out. “Keys.”
“What?”
“Give me your keys. I’ll drive your Jeep.”
“I can drive…”
The military leader in him returned. “Hallie A-Jones. Give me the keys. Now.”
Another car pulled into the lot full of laughing women. Hallie sighed, fumbled with fishing her keys out of her jacket pocket, and placed them in his palm.
He grinned. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
She wondered how much more trouble she’d get into if she punched another Dagger, but Jake was already halfway to the vehicle before she’d made up her mind. She climbed into the passengers side, leather burning into her legs. The warmth made her feel drowsy before Jake started up the SUV and the AC screamed to life.
He jumped. “You should really look into that noise.”
He scanned the vehicle’s various papers, bags, wrappers, and miscellaneous items, and added: “And maybe try a vacuum sometime.”
Hallie stuck her tongue out at him. He chuckled, but soon the two were riding back in relative silence, apart from Hallie’s occasional directions. It was almost enjoyable, until Jake evidently couldn’t keep his mouth shut any longer.
“So what’s this all about?”
“Don’t wanna talk about it.” Hallie crossed her arms.
Jake nodded. “So it has to do with work.
“I didn’t say…”
“Didn’t have to.”
Hallie reached for the door handle, but he locked the doors before she could grab it. He met her glare with a grin.
“Come on Dreamgirl. Just tell me.”
“Why?”
“It’s something to pass the time while we’re driving. And out of everyone, I’m the least likely to pat your back and give you the sympathetic pep talk I know you’ve been trying to avoid.”
“Yeah, you’ll just put a spoon in my back instead,” Hallie mumbled as she traced mindlessly at the window.
“Spoon? You mean knife?”
“Whatever.”
The rest of the ride to Hallie’s apartment complex was silent. When they parked, she stabbed at her seat belt button several times until it released, then went straight to rattling at the locked door handle incessantly, making a sound like a propeller.
“Stop that,” Jake said. “I’ll come help you. Can’t have you smashing that pretty face in the concrete.”
Hallie pouted as he got out, circled the vehicle, and opened her door.
“You think my face is pretty,” she proclaimed as her one crumb of triumph as he helped her out of the Jeep.
“Or I lied to make you feel better,” he replied.
She glared and stomped towards her apartment. Jake’s footsteps sounded behind her as he ran to catch up. The stairs to the second floor turned out to be a bit of a struggle, but she eventually made her way to her door with the blonde man in tow.
She held out her hand expectantly. “Keys.”
“You’re not getting rid of me that quickly, Dreamgirl.” He shoved the keys in his back pocket, and the look on his face indicated that he was fully aware she wouldn’t dare try retrieving them.
“I’m not letting you in.”
“It’s just until I make sure you’re settled and not going to choke on your own vomit.”
“I’m not that drunk!”
“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” Another smile.
Hallie once again debated punching him, but acknowledged her aim would be off. She knew when she was beat, though she would absolutely make sure to be vocal about her annoyance. Ten minutes later found her propped up in bed with her shoes off, a glass of water on the nightstand, and Jake standing over her with his hands on his hips.
“Promise you aren’t going fall out of bed and hit your head?” He asked.
Hallie nodded. Her eyelids felt like parachutes drifting ever so slowly down in the wind.
“Alright. Good night, Dreamgirl.” 
With that, he set the keys on the table, eyed her for a moment, and then started out. Hallie watched him for a moment, stunned he wasn’t wrapping up the night with a snide remark or innuendo.
“Hangman,” she called, suddenly feeling a bit of clarity. “Are you walking back?”
“I’ll call an Uber,” he said with a chuckle. “Wouldn’t want Phoenix to murder me if she saw me in your car.”
Hallie laughed and settled back down. “Thanks, Hangman.”
He tipped an invisible hat, and Hallie saw his smile one more time before her eyes shut for the night, leaving her to dream herself far away from the problems that might await her on Monday. Somewhere through the fuzz of her alcoholic sleep, she heard the faint reply:
“Anytime, Dreamgirl.”
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maryellencarter · 1 year
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so i don't actually know where i'm going with this one. it's oh-dark-thirty in the morning and i have work in an obnoxiously brief period of time, but i just washed my hair and i'm waiting for it to dry and having complicated thoughts vaguely related to gender shit.
so to start where i think i started this evening, there was a post on my dash linking lupin iii to watership down, the "prince of a thousand enemies" quote. which is a perfectly reasonable and in fact excellent quote to apply to him. lupin is not in fact relevant here, at least for now.
i read watership down when i was eight. this is because, as any of y'all who have picked up enough about my childhood will know, the stupidity of people who think all books about bunnies are for children is far stronger than any attempted point-making by an author trying to write a book about rabbits that people are not supposed to think is for children.
(not, to be clear, *my* stupidity. i was a very obedient right-wing child. i only read Approved books. this goes to show that censorship is fundamentally impossible, because nobody can actually read every book themselves, and the kinds of content and ideas that sneak in when you're sharing around lists of Approved books will vary wildly. especially, but not only, when the person masterminding the censorship is an idiot with no judgment of their own.)
i was an extremely sensitive eight-year-old. i did not behead barbies or hold witch's sabbaths. mostly i did my schoolwork, endured my mother's constant attempts at shipping me with her friends' sons, tried not to smile or cry because unauthorized emotions got me in trouble, and read a lot, because if you teach your two-year-old to read as a flex, you continue to have a child that can and will read. i hadn't quite had the reading level to make sense of jane eyre at four, but i could follow watership down at eight just fine.
being a very sensitive child, i did not enjoy watership down. i had nightmares about the black rabbit of inlé. being a child who was also being forced to memorize poetry at a great rate (another parental flex), i recognized that it was an extraordinarily well-written book on a prosody level -- as we may notice, the "prince with a thousand enemies" bit has stuck with me for decades. every so often i ponder rereading it, as i would probably enjoy it a lot more now, and almost certainly discover some shit about the roots of my ongoing thing for psychopomps.
the reason i haven't reread it yet, and this is where gender and also possibly the point of the rest of the post comes in, if it's going to have a point, is -- and this bugged me as a kid too, although i didn't have the words to express it until much later -- two linked facts. (1) the protagonists, the group of rabbits who escape the destruction of their warren, are all male. this on its own was very normal to me. boys have adventures. when girls are protagonists you get "jane eyre". this much was obvious to eight-year-old me.
(2) the second half of the book is about the quest of the male rabbits to find lady rabbits with whom to populate a new warren. fine, whatever, i had multiple younger siblings and a reasonably accurate idea of where they had come from (and that i myself was required to produce grandchildren as soon as i was deemed old enough and could be paired off with a suitable young man). what bugged me, though, is that the main plot of the second half of the book revolves around a weird cultlike warren where all the female rabbits are kept as... well, sex slaves, to be a little less than dainty about it... and around the basically guerrilla/spy strategies the protagonist rabbits use against the male cult leaders/guards to try to acquire the macguffin, which is the lady rabbits. i don't remember if any of the lady rabbits even had names. if they had opinions on being acquired by a different warren, none of those stuck with me.
what stuck with me was that, a little more obviously than most of the things i was reading where female characters merely didn't exist, to be female was to be a non-character. a baby-making machine on wheels.
so that's that for when i was eight. the rest of this is more recently. i've tried, a few times, especially when i've been female, to read books that do have female protagonists having adventures, or that were formative for cis female friends, or whatever. i bounce off them hard. because what i've found, and i'm not saying this is all that's out there, but what i've found is that being a female adventure protagonist keeps trying to address the whole overcoming misogyny thing. you're the first female whatever to have this sort of adventure, or you're tomboyish and bad at handicrafts because that's how the author explains that you're brave enough or badass enough to be allowed to have an adventure, or some other explanation of why An Girl is allowed to be an adventure protagonist After All. you can't ever just get to the friggin adventure like every single male adventure protagonist ever.
and i just. i don't even know if this fucking exists. i'm aromantic. i don't want a love interest. and i don't want a story that has to remind me i'm considered lesser. i want the kind of stories i can have when i'm a boy. but nobody writes those for girls, that i know of, because if you're not adding a girl to say something about romance or misogyny, there's no point in making the protagonist a girl. :P
(do real girls even want those? i don't fucking know. one thing that eats at me a *lot* about being aromantic is that even when i want to be a girl, i just feel really outcast from everything girls are supposed to be about, because romance is basically a requirement. off the top of my head, mary friggin poppins is still the only adult female protagonist i can think of who doesn't get a love interest inflicted on her.)
(of course my mother ships mary/bert. she is Wrong. she is categorically wrong about everything but some things are wronger than others.)
where the fuck was i? i don't know. mass effect. take mass effect, where 99% of the dialogue and story is the same if your player character is male or female, just reskinned. still goes out of its way to put a few choice bits of Overcoming Misogyny in hard-to-avoid story places if you play female. (also here's an entire species of hot blue chicks that's described in text as wise revered politicians and portrayed almost exclusively as strippers and hookers. but that's... like, that's practically background radiation for scifi at this point. it's the parts where they visibly went to extra work to remind me a girl player character can't just have the same respect as a guy that get to me.)
do i have a point here? probably not entirely. it's god-fuck-why in the morning and i haven't slept. but... i mean. you know. i'm genderfluid. a lot of the time i'm a guy. sometimes i'm a girl. a LOT more often than i actually manage to call myself a girl, i'm... sort of sitting on the steps looking over there, kinda wishing maybe i was, but feeling like -- like why the hell would i even *want* to be something that, in all the personal experience i've got, only exists to make stories be about people i don't want to be.
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