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#can't get on my computer often
aterlupus · 2 years
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daz4i · 6 months
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haven't gone through my drafts in awhile i forgot i put posts ideas i had that require me to be on my laptop to add a pic. and the descriptions i leave for myself following them make them funnier i think
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nexus-nebulae · 3 months
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odd thing we've noticed. the less okay we are the smaller our active system gets
#like logically you'd think we'd get more members while stressed but we don't usually#we actually split way more often when we're feeling okay and alive#i think it has something to do with mental bandwidth#like when mental health bad we don't have enough mental energy to put towards the system#so we just. reduce a lot in size. to make the workload easier#like a few months ago we had about 100+ people active at once all rotating out frequently and cofronting a TON#and now we're down to like. three or four active the rest really only able to be active for a few minutes at a time#we're just too exhausted to deal with the chaos of so many people so it kinda. slows down a ton#it's hard to get used to when everything was So Loud before. its kinda scary sometimes#like damn. i cant just call Incredibly Specific Task Guy to deal with this task i really cannot do right now. that kinda sucks#but knowing that this is like. more bc of the fact that we Can't Deal With Much More Than This makes it a little easier#we're a bit like my current computer. shit ass RAM bc its got like 50 malware (illnesses) on it#and once i get a new computer (get a little better and more functional) i can get back to multitasking#side note my god my RAM on this computer is shit running tumblr and minecraft at the same time totally breaks it#like it makes the Entire Computer run at 10 fps it's Great#i'm getting a new one at the end of this month hopefully#and hopefully Actually Nice Thing Accomplished will also help brain a lot#also not having to stress about how annoying to use our computer is should help lmao
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asherasgayagenda · 8 months
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listen so
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kyouka-supremacy · 1 year
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theood · 3 months
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Some people leave truly baffling comments on videos. Like, ah, yes! Tell me you don't know anyone who has a low-level understanding of reading without telling me
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burntoutdaydreamer · 6 months
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Things That May Be Causing Your Writer's Block- and How to Beat Them
I don't like the term 'Writer's Block' - not because it isn't real, but because the term is so vague that it's useless. Hundreds of issues all get lumped together under this one umbrella, making writer's block seem like this all-powerful boogeyman that's impossible to beat. Worse yet, it leaves people giving and receiving advice that is completely ineffective because people often don't realize they're talking about entirely different issues.
In my experience, the key to beating writer's block is figuring out what the block even is, so I put together a list of Actual Reasons why you may be struggling to write:
(note that any case of writer's block is usually a mix of two or more)
Perfectionism (most common)
What it looks like:
You write one sentence and spend the next hour googling "synonyms for ___"
Write. Erase. Write. Rewrite. Erase.
Should I even start writing this scene when I haven't figured out this one specific detail yet?
I hate everything I write
Cringing while writing
My first draft must be perfect, or else I'm a terrible writer
Things that can help:
Give yourself permission to suck
Keep in mind that nothing you write is going to be perfect, especially your first draft
Think of writing your first/early drafts not as writing, but sketching out a loose foundation to build upon later
People write multiple drafts for a reason: write now, edit later
Stop googling synonyms and save that for editing
Write with a pen to reduce temptation to erase
Embrace leaving blank spaces in your writing when you can't think of the right word, name, or detail
It's okay if your writing sucks. We all suck at some point. Embrace the growth mindset, and focus on getting words on a page
Lack of inspiration (easiest to fix)
What it looks like:
Head empty, no ideas
What do I even write about???
I don't have a plot, I just have an image
Want to write but no story to write
Things that can help:
Google writing prompts
If writing prompts aren't your thing, instead try thinking about what kind of tropes/genres/story elements you would like to try out
Instead of thinking about the story you would like to write, think about the story you would like to read, and write that
It's okay if you don't have a fully fleshed out story idea. Even if it's just an image or a line of dialogue, it's okay to write that. A story may or may not come out of it, but at least you got the creative juices flowing
Stop writing. Step away from your desk and let yourself naturally get inspired. Go for a walk, read a book, travel, play video games, research history, etc. Don't force ideas, but do open up your mind to them
If you're like me, world-building may come more naturally than plotting. Design the world first and let the story come later
Boredom/Understimulation (lost the flow)
What it looks like:
I know I should be writing but uugggghhhh I just can'tttttt
Writing words feels like pulling teeth
I started writing, but then I got bored/distracted
I enjoy the idea of writing, but the actual process makes me want to throw my laptop out the window
Things that can help:
Introduce stimulation: snacks, beverages, gum, music such as lo-fi, blankets, decorate your writing space, get a clickity-clackity keyboard, etc.
Add variety: write in a new location, try a new idea/different story for a day or so, switch up how you write (pen and paper vs. computer) or try voice recording or speech-to-text
Gamify writing: create an arbitrary challenge, such as trying to see how many words you can write in a set time and try to beat your high score
Find a writing buddy or join a writer's group
Give yourself a reward for every writing milestone, even if it's just writing a paragraph
Ask yourself whether this project you're working on is something you really want to be doing, and be honest with your answer
Intimidation/Procrastination (often related to perfectionism, but not always)
What it looks like:
I was feeling really motivated to write, but then I opened my laptop
I don't even know where to start
I love writing, but I can never seem to get started
I'll write tomorrow. I mean next week. Next month? Next month, I swear (doesn't write next month)
Can't find the time or energy
Unreasonable expectations (I should be able to write 10,000 words a day, right????)
Feeling discouraged and wondering why I'm even trying
Things that can help:
Follow the 2 min rule (or the 1 paragraph rule, which works better for me): whenever you sit down to write, tell yourself that you are only going to write for 2 minutes. If you feel like continuing once the 2 mins are up, go for it! Otherwise, stop. Force yourself to start but DO NOT force yourself to continue unless you feel like it. The more often you do this, the easier it will be to get started
Make getting started as easy as possible (i.e. minimize barriers: if getting up to get a notebook is stopping you from getting started, then write in the notes app of your phone)
Commit to a routine that will work for you. Baby steps are important here. Go with something that feels reasonable: every day, every other day, once a week, twice a week, and use cues to help you remember to start. If you chose a set time to write, just make sure that it's a time that feels natural to you- i.e. don't force yourself to writing at 9am every morning if you're not a morning person
Find a friend or a writing buddy you can trust and talk it out or share a piece of work you're proud of. Sometimes we just get a bit bogged down by criticism- either internal or external- and need a few words of encouragement
The Problem's Not You, It's Your Story (or Outline (or Process))
What it looks like:
I have no problems writing other scenes, it's just this scene
I started writing, but now I have no idea where I'm going
I don't think I'm doing this right
What's an outline?
Drowning in documents
This. Doesn't. Make. Sense. How do I get from this plot point to this one?!?!?! (this ColeyDoesThings quote lives in my head rent free cause BOY have I been there)
Things That Can Help:
Go back to the drawing board. Really try to get at the root of why a scene or story isn't working
A part of growing as a writer is learning when to kill your darlings. Sometimes you're trying to force an idea or scene that just doesn't work and you need to let it go
If you don't have an outline, write one
If you have an outline and it isn't working, rewrite it, or look up different ways to structure it
You may be trying to write as a pantser when you're really a plotter or vice versa. Experiment with different writing processes and see what feels most natural
Study story structures, starting with the three act structure. Even if you don't use them, you should know them
Check out Ellen Brock on YouTube. She's a professional novel editor who has a lot of advice on writing strategies for different types of writers
Also check out Savage Books on YouTube (another professional story editor) for advice on story structure and dialogue. Seriously, I cannot recommend this guy enough
Executive Dysfunction, Usually From ADHD/Autism
What it looks like:
Everything in boredom/understimulation
Everything in intimidation/procrastination
You have been diagnosed with and/or have symptoms of ADHD/Autism
Things that can help:
If you haven't already, seek a diagnosis or professional treatment
Hire an ADHD coach or other specialist that can help you work with your brain (I use Shimmer; feel free to DM me for a referral)
Seek out neurodiverse communities for advice and support
Try body doubling! There's lot's of free online body doubling websites out there for you to try. If social anxiety is a barrier, start out with writing streams such as katecavanaughwrites on Twitch
Be aware of any sensory barriers that may be getting in the way of you writing (such as an uncomfortable desk chair, harsh lighting, bad sounds)
And Lastly, Burnout, Depression, or Other Mental Illness
What it looks like:
You have symptoms of burnout or depression
Struggling with all things, not just writing
It's more than a lack of inspiration- the spark is just dead
Things that can help:
Forget writing for now. Focus on healing first.
Seek professional help
If you feel like it, use writing as a way to explore your feelings. It can take the form of journaling, poetry, an abstract reflection of your thoughts, narrative essays, or exploring what you're feeling through your fictional characters. The last two helped me rediscover my love of writing after I thought years of depression had killed it for good. Just don't force yourself to do so, and stop if it takes you to a darker place instead of feeling cathartic
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WIBTA for sabotaging my boyfriend's hookup with his girlfriend by filling his sex playlist with DJ Crazytimes
I (28NB, they/he) have known my boyfriend (call him C, 29M, he/him) for some 15ish years now. As long as I've known him, he has been on and off again with his girlfriend (call him T, 29NB, he/him). Respectfully, and with love, C and T are two of the worst and most annoying people I know. I want to marry them both specifically so that I can study them under a microscope like a parasitic virus.
Technically they're monogamous, but they're both hooking up with other people (myself included), usually the same people, because they have the same taste in lovers (bad). I have suggested that they give actual polyamory a try, and they reject the idea wholeheartedly. I think they get off on their dynamic, and far be it from me to try more than the bare minimum to dissuade them from it.
A couple months back, they got into a fight and broke up (again) because T (who was unemployed at the time) stole $50 from C (who works at GameStop) so that he could pay for a tank of gas (using C's car) to go hook up with another guy a couple states over. C was not upset that T was hooking up with another guy (because he was Also hooking up with that guy and knew he would not have a leg to stand on), but because of the stolen money + car.
C and I currently live together, because you can't afford an apartment on a GameStop salary, and also, like I said, he's my boyfriend. I'm making carnitas tacos next Friday, and T is coming over, because despite everything, he has nothing else to do on a Friday night. I know that C and T are going to get into a huge fight, and I know that it's probably either going to end with them getting back together out of spite or with someone's vehicle getting keyed--I'm betting on both.
Here's where I think I might be the asshole. I would really like to get inbetween them. Not in a "I don't want you to date each other" kind of way, but in a "holy shit you are both so insufferable i would like to get in on that" kind of way. I currently have my thing with C, and I've hooked up with T once in the past, but I would really like to make it official with him as well.
My plan is as follows: C and T are going to be in the same space again next Friday. They're going to fight, then hook up, then get back together again. C is one of those cybersexual "i built my own computer and run it on Linux" people, which is to say, he thinks tiktok and youtube are evil, and he he thinks spotify premium is supporting megacorporations. So, his sex playlist for T (we do not have our own sex playlist) is just an actual folder of mp3 files.
While C is at work, I'm going to log into his computer and change several of those mp3 files to DJ Crazytimes' Planet of the Bass, which I play often, and he is frequently annoyed by. My hope is that he'll realize it was me, he'll come and yell at me for ruining their hookup, T will take my side to piss him off, and the tension will get to the point where they let me join their hookup, and I can ask to date both of them after that.
To be clear, I recognize that I'm also Incredibly Toxic for enabling and encouraging this behavior. That said, I feel like I'm justified in this scenario considering C and T are both Also toxic, and furthermore, it is a known fact that I'm dating C right now, so for them to hook up, C would technically be cheating on me. I asked C's sister (a childhood friend of mine) for her take on whether it would be funny or just annoying, and she just told me that we all deserve each other, so I think I should be good. Am I being uniquely shitty here?
What are these acronyms?
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medicinemane · 8 months
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Ok, wasn't my fault I opened that window
The image came from from piece of shit website that won't let you right click here, and won't let you right click on the site (which has a fucking overlay here and basically funnels you to that site)
Well fuck you, I downloaded it anyway. You added more work to it, but that just made me more determined. Bird photo is mine now
#sorry; I just feel strongly that I'm allowed to store pretty much anything I encounter on the internet on to my computer#not allowed to use it for anything; it's not like I own the creation of it; but I get to make a back up#for one thing that's how I remember and find artists and stuff again down the road#see a picture and reverse image search to track down who it was from#but nah... I get to copy anything; maybe that sounds entitled but like... this shit ain't fungible and it cost nothing for me to copy it#I'm not reposting; I'm not doing shit with it other than keeping it for myself#and frankly... this is just how the internet works; people save shit all the time#this bird photo isn't special just because some company thinks they're hot shit#if I can download from youtube I can download from you#occasionally I get stymied on how to download a video from some place... but it's rare; and it makes me hate the site#it's just if push comes to shove and we're blunt about it I'm super pro piracy#pro creatives getting supported and whatnot; but pro access to all information; and that shitty site ain't a creative#f12 by the way; that's how you get a lot of stuff#select either image; or more often media and reload the page#then... scout for what you want; open it in a new tab; and if you manage that you can always download it#it's only when they hide it better than that where you can't make it happen#but if you find it in f12 it's yours; that's just the raw file#all they did was try to obscure where it was
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baekura · 1 year
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Well. I was going to do a little test stream to see if all my stuff was working. But it would appear I'm having driver errors again. Guess I'll have to call tech support again tomorrow.
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nexus-nebulae · 1 year
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almost tempted to give money to capitalism so i can watch a particular show-
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cryptotheism · 1 year
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I don't know man. The playplace should have been demolished, but I think it's better to chew on gum until the flavor is gone than to get bored. Things fade, you know, like plastic in the sun. Half a tube of bright pink PVC turning pink, and white, and thin.
Do you remember the Nick hotel? How the baseboards were cracked? The water park? I never went myself. It's the sort of thing that only exists in red-eyed digital photos that you printed at a Costco.
I wonder where laserdiscs ended up? Like physically, where did they all go? Iridescent sand, bismuth ozymandias. How come the speakers at the mall never worked? How come they always sounded so far away? At least the tile was clean.
Even back then, you knew you were late to something. So many rooms were too big. Not enough people showed up, I guess. I remember my dad telling me that one day TVs would become computers but it ended up the other way around. I never wore holes in my clothes, I had to buy new ones so often. He told me one day they would come in cans, you could paint a TV on the wall. Wouldn't that be something.
I met a girl at the park once who was just like me. I had snuck my Nintendo DS out in the pocket of my hoodie. Hers was silver, mine was a shade of red you don't see much anymore. We played Mario Kart under the slide where our parents couldn't see. I never saw her again. I can't think about her.
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dcxdpdabbles · 6 months
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Finders Keepers
"Do not forget that the new groundskeeper is scheduled to arrive today at noon. I expect everyone to be courteous and to clean up their nighttime rubbish before his arrival," Alfred reminds them as they struggle to sit through breakfast.
Last night's patrol was brutal, and everyone was a bit bruised up and sore, not to mention that most only got an hour or so of sleep.
They collectively groan- except for Bruce and Damian, but neither count as full humans anyway, no matter what their DNA says otherwise.
Tim, in particular, is rubbing his hands down his face. "But Alfred, today's my only day off for the next six weeks!"
"I fail to see how your poor time management will change the outcome of doing your chores, Master Tim," The butler states. Tim cowards instantly at the sight of that arched brow on his grandfather's face and melts into his seat.
Pleased, Alfred taps his wristwatch. "You all have three hours. Better get to it."
They scatter. Bruce runs to his office to clean up all his paperwork, knowing some purchases were not Wayne Industries. Jason hits the multiple garages to ensure nothing bat-related is thrown in the toolboxes.
Dick is swinging by the handlers, taping his hands along the beams and pulling out hidden gadgets. Cass and Duke are walking on the roofs, double-checking the boobytraps.
Steph and Damian have offered to patrol the Batcave and the connecting tunnels to ensure the motion sensors are active.
Tim is told to walk along the property and make sure no surprise holes will appear. Bruce fell into the cave system when he was young, so the new groundskeeper might have the same fate. It's the more leisurely job since Bruce obsessively checks since it happened, but they all know Tim can barely keep his eyes open.
Tim doesn't mind because he must pat his bo staff on the ground, stomping his foot ever so often and scanning the environment with his wrist computer. He doesn't even bother to change out of his pajamas- an old pair of sweats and a baggy t-shirt Kon lent him when he once slept over and never returned. It's mostly just a walk, but it feels like an entirety to his sleep-deprived mind.
His eyelids are heavier than usual, every blink feels like a bag of sand, and he still has to check at least three-thirds of the Wayne Manor grounds.
He is wandering towards the east side of the property when he finds a very convenient bush shaped perfectly to block the sun and offer him a tiny nooch to snuggle into.
He glances back at the house and then at the time on his wrist computer. He has two hours and twenty minutes before the groundskeeper arrives.
"One short nap," Tim mutters, getting on his hands and knees to crawl into the bush. He twists to lie on his back, using his jacket as a pillow. His whole body fits inside, so Alfred will likely not catch him. The scrub is soft, and Tim relaxes into his protective shade. "I'll get up in a bit."
The wind blowing through the trees and the bushes around him lures him to sleep.
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"Hey"
A voice cuts through his dream of jumping over the city, chasing after his family but maskless. They weren't running around the roofs fighting a good fight; the Waynes in his dream were just spending time together. Laughing. Goodnaturely teasing.
It's wonderful.
It's everything he's ever wanted.
It's slowly disappearing as he is coming back to consciousness.
Tim groans, trying to roll over and return to the dream, but the voice speaks again. "Hey, man, you can't sleep here."
A hand clamps on his shoulder, giving him a gentle shake. Tim mutters, weakly swapping it away. "No. No. No."
"Come one, man, I can't have the big boss see you. It's my first day, and I don't want to get fired because I let some guy sleep in his yard." The voice continues, sounding pleasing and guilty.
Tim whimpers, rubbing his face against the cold hard ground. "No. No. No. Please, I just want to sleep. I'm not hurting anybody."
"Ancients....okay. Okay. Listen, I will let you sleep a little longer while I work. I'll finish mowing the yards and trim all the bushes. That should be at least five hours. I must move you if you're still here when I return."
Tim doesn't answer, too busy slipping back into his sleep as a hand gently runs through his hair. He snuggles into the warm palm with a sigh.
Someone gulps. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"
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Tim snaps his eyes open to see that everything is pitch dark. Oh crude!
How long has he been asleep? What time is it? Was Alfred going to kill him!? What was he thinking?
Of course, Alfred would kill him, and unlike Jason or Damiman, the elder would not fail. In fact, from what Tim could make out in the darkness, a man was standing over him wearing white gloves.
He found me! Tim thinks historically. I didn't even have time to run!
The white gloves move closer as if they were going to touch him. He leaps up with a scream, and a man falls over.
"Woah! Woah! Hey, it's okay, I'm not a cop!" The stranger- not Alfred- shouts. Tim pauses, then lets out a louder scream. The man rushes forward to slam his hands against Tim's mouth.
He glances frantically at the manor- it's too far away to see anyone since Tim chose to nap at the very edge of the vast land Bruce's ancestors purchased.- before hissing. "Could you keep it down? Look, I let you sleep long enough; you must move."
Tim blinks owlish at him. His mind is fuzzy- shit, was he hit with something last night? He couldn't remember.- but he thinks he knows him.
Dark Hair.
Blue Eyes.
Pretty facial features.
Oh, it's one of his brothers. Dick? Yeah, it's Dick. Has to be. Tim is sure. He can't think clearly now, but he knows his eldest brother. This guy has the same color eyes. It's him.
Does Dick know he is Tim's brother? Does he know who he is?
"Dick," He tells the man in jeans overalls, just in case he forgets his name. His brother frowns.
"I know. I hate to do it, okay? But you can't sleep here."
"I can't?"
"No, dude."
"Where can I sleep?"
Dick sighs. "I think there is a shelter that-"
"Take me home."
Dick pauses, taken aback. "What?"
Tim leans forward, resting his head on his brother's shoulder. "I'm tired. I want to go home."
"Where do you live? Is there someone I can contact for you?" Dick asks in high pitched voice, seemingly uncomfortable by Tim's closeness but too bad. Tim never gets enough hugs, so he must deal with it because he wants hugs now.
"No, I want to go home with you!" He whines, and the world starts to spin. Quickly closing his eyes against the nausea, Tim tries to hide further into Dick's shoulder. "Take me home with you."
Dick is quiet for a long moment before he slumps. Carefully, he reaches up to pet Tim's hair, and it's so comforting that he almost falls back to sleep. "I'm going to regret this, but something in my core tells me to do what you say. You wouldn't happen to know a Clockwork, would you?"
Tim shakes his head.
"Right. Okay, taking a homeless stranger I found in the Waynor Manor bushes. Seems on-brand to me. Let's go."
Tim follows.
Who was he following? He doesn't remember, but when he climbs into a van with the words "Phantom Groundskeeping," he doesn't feel worried.
In fact, once he's buckled in, head leaning against the window and pulling his legs up to his chest, he feels oddly protected. The driver of the van is also beautiful.
Like wow. Talk about a work of art.
"I love you," He tells the man, who laughs, flickering blue sad eyes at him.
"Thanks. Take a nap. I think you should sleep off whatever your on and then I can get you some help."
"Do you love me too?"
"....sure. Go to sleep now."
"Will I die?"
"What?"
Tim can feel the word fading away, which is terrible; he knows it is but can't remember why. He just knows that when it disappears, he'll never wake up again. He tells the stranger as such, voice just barely above a whisper.
Glowing green eyes snap to him in alarm, and a small breath of blue leaves the stranger's mouth. Tim thinks he's slowly gaining a hint of horror, but his body begs him to sleep.
Tim blinks once, then twice, as the stranger's mouth opens and closes before he snaps his eyes to the road. "What a time to go mad."
The diver's grip on his steering wheel tightens, but Tim can barely keep his eyes open, so he can't see the gorgeous stranger's face as he whispers. "No. I won't let you die. Just....just sleep, okay? I'll figure it out."
Tim does.
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"Crap!" Jason yells, running up the stairs from the Batcave. In his hand are the test results for the standard toxicity screening they all undergo whenever they fight someone who even remotely deals with drugs.
Everyone was too tired to look at them properly, which means they all missed that Tim's blood was covered in what looked like a blend of Poison Ivy's love pollen and some kind of sleep-inducing strain.
Tim is out there, somewhere tripping balls or cuddling up to a stranger or unconscious, slowly slipping into a coma. They all thought he bailed on his work and deserved a day off so no one bothered to go after him.
Now Tim could be dead.
He rounds the large hall, his stomping footsteps barely covering the sounds of Alfred's smooth voice.
"It seems the groundskeeper is asking for a week off already. He just got married and-"
"Crap! Crap! Crap! Bruce!" He shouts, slamming the door of his dad's office open. His grandfather and father both turn sharply to him, and neither misses the paper that Jason throws. Their eyes widen in horror when they read what's on the report. "We need to find Tim!"
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Jazz wakes to find a half-dressed stranger curled around Danny, a ghost contract with drying blood on the ground, and a hastily made banner that reads "Happy Elopement!" thrown on the wall.
The living room looks like a confetti bomb went off in it. Did she miss a party being hosted in her own house? While sleeping in the room next door?
Johnny- her ex and surprisingly good friend after he stop bothering her brother- is sitting cross-legged, eyes glued on the TV.
"What. The. Fuck." Jazz asks, walking over to pour herself a cup of coffee.
"Morning," Johnny replies without so much as turning around. Since Jazz helped plan his and Kitty's wedding, the ghost becomes a brother to the Fentons. "Danny eloped."
"I figured as much by the banner." She mutters, walking over to the couch his brother and her new brother-in-law occupy. She stares at the stranger. He looked....familiar?
"Yeah, don't know all the details, but I guess his hubby was dying, so Danny pulled a Ghost King contract out of his ass and saved him by passing on his healing factor after they were hitched," Johnny says. Jazz takes a sip of her coffee. "I think he thinks he can divorce him or something. But till death due us part doesn't apply to Halfas. They're married forever, even in life or death."
"Shit." Jazz sighs. "Danny got himself into another situation. And he was doing so well recently, too. Became a groundskeeper for the Waynes and everything."
"Waynes pay well?"
"Danny could have paid off my student loans in four paychecks."
"Damn." Johnny whistles. Just then, Kitty floats through the wall wearing a red bathing robe. Jazz will never get used to the fact ghosts could look so human in the morning, with their messy hair and dazed expression. "Morning, babe."
"Morning," Kitty mumbles, leaning down to kiss Johnny. She glances at Danny and smiles. "They're so cute. I'm so happy Danny found his Core Mate."
"Core Mate?" Jazz asks.
"Like a soulmate but more dead," Kitty explains. "They are scarce to find, but once your core finds what it wants, it's fated. That's probably why Danny married so quickly, even if it was to save a life he normally wouldn't have."
Jazz looks back at the boy wrapped around in Danny's arms. Her brother is holding him like he's the most precious thing in either world, even in his sleep, and she knows that no matter what she or anyone says, he's not going to give up- wait a minute.
The stranger moves slightly in his sleep, snuggling up against Danny more, and his hair falls out of his face.
Shit.
"That's Tim Drake. Danny stole away Tim Drake." She deadpans. "Danny went over to cut Bruce Wayne's yard and returned with his son to elop with."
"In one afternoon? I'm impressed." Johnny laughs. "He really said all services included."
"Don't be gross, Johnny," Kitty scolds, but she's smiling. Jazz just shakes her head, reaching down for the contract. She may as well read what kind of dead-brain idea her baby brother got involved with this time.
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not-terezi-pyrope · 3 months
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Often when I post an AI-neutral or AI-positive take on an anti-AI post I get blocked, so I wanted to make my own post to share my thoughts on "Nightshade", the new adversarial data poisoning attack that the Glaze people have come out with.
I've read the paper and here are my takeaways:
Firstly, this is not necessarily or primarily a tool for artists to "coat" their images like Glaze; in fact, Nightshade works best when applied to sort of carefully selected "archetypal" images, ideally ones that were already generated using generative AI using a prompt for the generic concept to be attacked (which is what the authors did in their paper). Also, the image has to be explicitly paired with a specific text caption optimized to have the most impact, which would make it pretty annoying for individual artists to deploy.
While the intent of Nightshade is to have maximum impact with minimal data poisoning, in order to attack a large model there would have to be many thousands of samples in the training data. Obviously if you have a webpage that you created specifically to host a massive gallery poisoned images, that can be fairly easily blacklisted, so you'd have to have a lot of patience and resources in order to hide these enough so they proliferate into the training datasets of major models.
The main use case for this as suggested by the authors is to protect specific copyrights. The example they use is that of Disney specifically releasing a lot of poisoned images of Mickey Mouse to prevent people generating art of him. As a large company like Disney would be more likely to have the resources to seed Nightshade images at scale, this sounds like the most plausible large scale use case for me, even if web artists could crowdsource some sort of similar generic campaign.
Either way, the optimal use case of "large organization repeatedly using generative AI models to create images, then running through another resource heavy AI model to corrupt them, then hiding them on the open web, to protect specific concepts and copyrights" doesn't sound like the big win for freedom of expression that people are going to pretend it is. This is the case for a lot of discussion around AI and I wish people would stop flagwaving for corporate copyright protections, but whatever.
The panic about AI resource use in terms of power/water is mostly bunk (AI training is done once per large model, and in terms of industrial production processes, using a single airliner flight's worth of carbon output for an industrial model that can then be used indefinitely to do useful work seems like a small fry in comparison to all the other nonsense that humanity wastes power on). However, given that deploying this at scale would be a huge compute sink, it's ironic to see anti-AI activists for that is a talking point hyping this up so much.
In terms of actual attack effectiveness; like Glaze, this once again relies on analysis of the feature space of current public models such as Stable Diffusion. This means that effectiveness is reduced on other models with differing architectures and training sets. However, also like Glaze, it looks like the overall "world feature space" that generative models fit to is generalisable enough that this attack will work across models.
That means that if this does get deployed at scale, it could definitely fuck with a lot of current systems. That said, once again, it'd likely have a bigger effect on indie and open source generation projects than the massive corporate monoliths who are probably working to secure proprietary data sets, like I believe Adobe Firefly did. I don't like how these attacks concentrate the power up.
The generalisation of the attack doesn't mean that this can't be defended against, but it does mean that you'd likely need to invest in bespoke measures; e.g. specifically training a detector on a large dataset of Nightshade poison in order to filter them out, spending more time and labour curating your input dataset, or designing radically different architectures that don't produce a comparably similar virtual feature space. I.e. the effect of this being used at scale wouldn't eliminate "AI art", but it could potentially cause a headache for people all around and limit accessibility for hobbyists (although presumably curated datasets would trickle down eventually).
All in all a bit of a dick move that will make things harder for people in general, but I suppose that's the point, and what people who want to deploy this at scale are aiming for. I suppose with public data scraping that sort of thing is fair game I guess.
Additionally, since making my first reply I've had a look at their website:
Used responsibly, Nightshade can help deter model trainers who disregard copyrights, opt-out lists, and do-not-scrape/robots.txt directives. It does not rely on the kindness of model trainers, but instead associates a small incremental price on each piece of data scraped and trained without authorization. Nightshade's goal is not to break models, but to increase the cost of training on unlicensed data, such that licensing images from their creators becomes a viable alternative.
Once again we see that the intended impact of Nightshade is not to eliminate generative AI but to make it infeasible for models to be created and trained by without a corporate money-bag to pay licensing fees for guaranteed clean data. I generally feel that this focuses power upwards and is overall a bad move. If anything, this sort of model, where only large corporations can create and control AI tools, will do nothing to help counter the economic displacement without worker protection that is the real issue with AI systems deployment, but will exacerbate the problem of the benefits of those systems being more constrained to said large corporations.
Kinda sucks how that gets pushed through by lying to small artists about the importance of copyright law for their own small-scale works (ignoring the fact that processing derived metadata from web images is pretty damn clearly a fair use application).
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking
Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.
"Sir? Is everything okay?"
He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.
Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?
"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.
"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"
"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"
Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."
"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"
"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"
"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.
"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.
"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."
"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."
Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."
Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.
For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.
Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.
"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.
"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.
"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."
Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."
"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"
He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."
"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."
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privitivium · 2 months
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sub popular “straight” yan and nerd dom male reader
That’s it
i love this so much get out of my head ive been fucking thinking about something like this,,,, both amab,,, popular dude is a bit ditzy. so.
sub popular "straight" yan x dom nerd reader.,,, thoughts.,,,, rambles
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im thinking of a jock type popular dude. a bit bulky, either ur taller than him or hes taller than you - or same height, imagine what you would like. also thinking its either he knows he likes dudes - you, specifically, or its just him eager to be ur friend and he has no idea why he wants to be around you - or following you around from a distance - or stalking you, or sniffing your gym clothesㅡwondering why its your body that his mind switches to just when he's about to cum - distracting him, and making him edge. damn you?! infiltrating his thoughts so damn easily...
ㅡand wow! so coincidental, right? him entering the bathroom, seconds after you do - and not following the stall rules... to leave one in the middle. there were three stalls!!!! you took the one on the far left, while he takes the middle?! trying so hard not to let it bother your concentration - closing in on yourself as you feel his obnoxious, yet quiet presence doing his own business... and him peeking over the fucking stall over n trying to catch a glimpse of ur dick,,, not exactly subtle - but to you, a mildly oblivious loser, you had no idea - him gripping the base of his dick and looking away: feigning disgust at himself when he was trying so hard not to pump his hand,,, not like he actually likes you or anythingㅡah, there you go; you're leaving... fuck he has to finish to catch up to you- wait for him-! b-but you arent even friends...
ㅡhey, no matter... he's super charming, he'll be your close best friend in no time... why does he even want to be your friend? the reason... even he doesnt know?! it's just this - strange pull he feels toward you - and my god youre gonna be his friend damn you!!
,,, but you seem not to like him... he wonders why that is?! he's the coolest - everyone likes him! of course you wouldn't though, yeah he understands... the popular guy trying to get close to the introverted nerd loser of the school... yeah he guesses you think that he's just trying to trick you, but rest assured - he really just wants to be your close pal, wants to know what your type gets up to in the computer room is all... no other reason...
often cornering you, nearly odiously as you saw it - why the fuck was this guy coming around you so much? you had no reason for him to talk to you... but, you'll humor the guy. nonchalantly subjecting yourself to his conversation he strikes up confidently as you were strung out on the bleachers with your other friends who seemed to disperse as he came around...
and him, catching you under the bleachers too close to one of your friends. his chest tightening and he nearly feels sick and an overwhelming amount of rage - he can't s-stand the sight... it's so... your friend slung across your lap, what were you doing? clearly enjoying your little off period - you liked guys, right? why else would you be so touchy? then, there could be a chance you did like him! an idiot, thinking like that... then him crying in a hall closet and jerking off sadly because he wishes it was him in your lap.
thinking about this dude fucking some chick anally - experimenting as he told her, and instinctively reaching down as they were in doggy - to tug. but there was nothing to tug... what is he doing?!! messily rubbing along her labia like a total fucking moron - but at least he got to cum!!
ㅡpopular yan clinging to nerd reader at a party and being oddly touchy is all... he didnt expect you to come to one of these - there was tons and you happen to be the one he's at??? it's fucking fate! slinking over to your trio of "nerds" as he saw it, mildly tipsy - so happy to see you, greeting you ecstatically - arm slung over your shoulder and mindlessly babbling... pausing when you say - "dude what? christ, youre fucked up..." yeah. Yeah he's so fucked up... you gonna lead him to somewhere quiet? oh, yeah... you are. man, you're just so polite... isnt this so romantic?
you didnt seem to mind tugging him toward the kitchen that was off limitsㅡwhy were you even leading him? he thought you didnt like him, but omg he's so happy with this outcome... nearly giggling to himself freely with the help of a single beer. ah, jeez... what kind of cologne do you wear? he could feel his pants getting tighter for some reason - was he getting turned on by the mere smell of you? man, that's just how good you smell ...
ㅡsomething where you're roommates,,, ;; "n-naah,, m' not gay." he shakes his head, grumbling to himself as he hangs off your doorway, face burning with embarrassment at being caught - tugging his hoodie down over his groin trying soo hard to hide his bulge. he flinches at your voice - "sure? i mean - might not be gay but you sure do like watching me jerk off, no?" you shake your head in faux disappointment - "seems a little gay to me, but whatever..." why were you so nonchalant? arent you gonna fucking do something about him catching you-? a-arent you?!?!! y-you don't... he leaves, disappointed, and now to jerk off to the memory of you jerking off... imagining you doing it for him. yeahㅡhe so does not like dudes!
ㅡ"a-ah, nnoㅡdude, i'm not - i'm..." rendered speechless and fucking stupid as your hand glides along his erection so shamelessly, pressing him against the wall of the dark hallway, he wants nothing more than to bury his face in the crook of your neck and let you fucking handle him- "you're not what?" you whisper gently, feigning curiosity as - "please - nothing, i- please... i-i ah..." pressing himself flat against the wall - edging his hips into your hand. you pause. and he whines.
"please?" you echo quietly, eyebrows furrowing - knowingly glaring into his eyes and it makes him quiver underneath you,,, "what are you begging for? you sure have a knack for evading my questions. try not to do it this time." he whimpers mutely, groaning softly as if reluctant - before he was babbling, you could barely make the words out - "p-please, i,,, please help me cum..." so embarrassed, his usually boisterous voice sounding so tiny and smallㅡbut fuck he felt so free. his heart beating against his ribcage, lightheaded - you must like him if you're doing this to him, it was so obvious... got him wrapped around your little finger so easily - making him cum in his pants rather easily as well. your face buried in his neck, merely nuzzling him as you worked your hand fluidly - clearly, having practice...!
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