I reblogged this last month, tagged it, and said “might as well see if it works.” I used this video as a reference to find all the forms that i needed (which is A LOT, especially if you’re a dependent) and sent them through the mail, not really allowing myself to hope.
dude.
$2,714 of medical debt from my top surgery - gone. im shaking this was such a weight on me for 2 years and it fucking worked. what the fuck.
Hospitals like to hide these policies under a lot of successive links in obscure places, so if you don't see anything right away, keep looking! Get friends to help! Make it a scavenger hunt. A game where you're assassins sent to slit capitalism's throat
The gala was in full swing at Wayne Manor, glittering with Gotham’s elite. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead, and the soft strains of a classical quartet played in the background. Danny Fenton, in an ill-fitting tux borrowed from someone much taller, leaned against a column with a flute of something bubbly he wasn't entirely sure was non-alcoholic.
From his vantage point, he had the perfect view of his sister, Jazz, and—unfortunately—Dick Grayson trying, and failing, to flirt with her.
"You're into psychology? That's wild, I'm kind of a master of body language." Dick gave a dazzling grin, eyebrows bouncing like he was in a toothpaste commercial.
Jazz blinked at him, utterly unimpressed. “Uh-huh. And I suppose you read Freud for the articles?”
Danny winced from across the room. “Oof,” he muttered, sipping whatever this was. “She's not even pulling punches tonight.”
Beside him, Tim Drake appeared with a glass of water and a raised eyebrow. “How long’s this been going on?”
“Grayson’s been at it for fifteen minutes,” Danny said. “It's like watching a golden retriever try to seduce a cat. Painful, but kind of impressive in its optimism.”
Dick tried another move, casually flexing as he reached for a canapé. Jazz didn’t even blink.
Danny snorted. “Dude, give it up,” he called out as Dick stepped back for a breath. “She likes older guys.”
Dick turned and pouted. “I am older than her!”
Danny just pointed across the ballroom. “Not old enough.”
There, Jazz was zeroing in on Bruce Wayne himself—billionaire, philanthropist, and, as far as Jazz was concerned, “a prime specimen of rugged fatherhood.”
“She thinks Bruce Wayne is a total DILF,” Danny added, sipping again, eyes never leaving the trainwreck in motion.
Dick stared, mouth slightly open, watching as Jazz approached Bruce with the confidence of a woman who had studied Freud and Jung and decided to psychologically profile this man in real time.
“Oh my god,” Dick whispered. “She’s doing the eyebrow thing.”
“She’s doing the eyebrow thing,” Danny confirmed solemnly. “It’s over. May Bruce rest in peace.”
From across the room, Jazz offered Bruce a dazzling smile and said something that made the corner of his mouth twitch upward—the Wayne smirk, rare and powerful.
Tim blinked. “He’s smirking. She got the smirk. That’s—kind of terrifying.”
“She once convinced the FBI that our ghost dog was a federal asset,” Danny said. “This is light work for her.”
Meanwhile, Dick looked betrayed. “He’s like a thousand years older than her!”
Danny clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Dick, buddy. You’re a gymnast. Bruce is a whole genre.”
Tim coughed, trying not to laugh. “Should we… do something?”
Danny shrugged. “Nah. Let her cook.”
And across the ballroom, Jazz leaned in slightly closer, her smile brilliant, and Bruce Wayne—Batman, scourge of Gotham’s underworld—looked like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed, flattered, or afraid.
Danny smirked. This gala was way more fun than he thought it’d be.
25 years ago an unknown Chinese protester stood in front of a tank in defiance of the government. No one knows the identity of the man but he was given the nick name “Tank Man”. This is one of the most iconic photographs of the century.
It’s actually been 27 years now since the incident known as the Tiananmen Square Massacre occurred.
The picture above, famously referred to as “The Tank Man” was actually taken on June 5, the day after the massacre.
(Which honestly makes him the one of the bravest person, to go back and stand up to a regime after such a terrible event transpired)
So what happened?
I’m gonna give the TL;DR version:
April 15, 1989. Hu Yaobang, a former Communist Party Chief dies.
Many people, including workers, laborer, students and some officials come to mourn. You see, those protestors were originally there to mourn, not protest.
Time passed and there were some hunger strikes, and protests, and a call for accountability and reform from the government.
Eventually, things went south, because the communist party doesn’t have time to deal with these sorts of “demands” and grievances.
Keep in mind, the people wanted not the end of the Communist Party, but for the party to stop with the official corruption, rule of law, and the gross monopoly of information and power.
Incidentally, China still suffers from all of these SAME problems to this day…
June 3, 1989. The massacre started at night to disperse the crowd. Many were shot, wounded, and killed.
June 4, 1989. Some of the parents of the protestors who never came home went looking for them. It was still total mayhem.
June 5, 1989. The iconic image of the tank man was taken. To this day, no one knows what became of this person.
Content Warning for video: blood
“Tell the world…”
I cannot stress how important it is that people remember and know about this event.
Do you know how China responded? With lies and censorship.
Even now, in 2016, we do not have an official death toll on the Tiananmen Square Massacre, the Chinese government doesn’t even acknowledge the event as a “massacre”. And they weaves these cover stories of “counter revolutionaries trying to overthrow the government”. Therefore, the violence was necessary to ~protect~ the people. (Or some bullshit like that)
The amount of lying and censorship in China is, quite frankly, scary amazing.
Tumblr, which somehow managed to fly under their radar, found itself being blocked in that country.
After all, tell a lie often enough and it becomes the truth.
And those who remember the incident in China?
…………well, you tell me.
Please at least REMEMBER this tragedy. Untold innocent lives were lost, and a nation has been fed a lie for almost three decades now from their oppressive af regime.
Tiananmen Square happened when I was seven, and let’s just say children have a really interesting way of interpreting information.
I just remember thinking it was a happy event, because all these people were out on the street, and at first the army were interacting with these people. And it almost looked like a festival because people were singing and talking, and hopeful. And then tv coverage for the events got cut off.
The blocking of the live coverage had all the adults anxious, nobody said anything for ages, I just remember my grandmother saying, “Just be glad your father isn’t in China, now.”
And that stuck with me to this day. Because yeah, if dad had been in China then he would have been in Beijing studying, he would have been on those streets with those other students.
It was the first time I knew that something horrible had happened to all those people I saw on the television. I don’t even remember how I knew that the army must have shot at the civilians, I just knew. Because when you grow up in China, especially in the 80s you knew there were things you don’t say, that you can’t express in a public forum, because that can get you and your family in trouble. You just knew, and it didn’t fucking matter if your were a child or an adult.
To this day I don’t remember how I found out what happened in Tiananmen Square, because the news covered it up, but people found out. My grandparents knew, my uncles and aunts knew. Extended family visited my grandparents, I remember people telling my mother not to mention my father’s name because my father was a Chinese Beijing University graduate, who had gone overseas. Because there were people who died in the protests that my dad knew.
And it was all just so frightening because nobody was telling me directly what was happening, but I just knew that all the people on the streets was probably dead.
Looking back on it, Tiananmen Square instilled in a me a life long distrust of governments, but especially the Chinese government. I’m ethnically Chinese but I never want to return to China, not even for a holiday, and this has been my attitude even before Xi Jinping took power. Because Tiananmen Square was a peaceful protest that ended up with the army using heavy artillery against their own people. How can you trust in a system, in a government like that? Because if my dad had delayed further studies overseas by two years he would have been one of those students, one of those fucking kids on the streets that would have died.
And you know, when the Umbrella movement was happening in Hong Kong I was deeply panicked and just anxious because I kept on thinking all those people, all those kids are going to be killed. And when that didn’t happen it was such a relief.
When I found out years later that Chinese people a few years younger than me didn’t know what happened in Tiananmen Square I was so fucking angry. I can’t even articulate the rage and the sheer tiredness of it all.
Dad and I talked about Tiananmen Square a few times through the years, broadly, politically, and at times with sheer rage on dad’s part. I don’t even know what I wanted to say, but just fuck this fucking regime.
I was In Hong Kong when Tiananamen Square Massacre happened. Hong Kong was still a British colony then and had full freedom of press, and its reporters were there recording live footage while trying to stay as long as possible when tanks rolled in and shots were fired, when students lay in blood and their fellow students piled the injured bodies on those wooden plank carts to get them to the hospitals, while asking the Hong Kongers who were there to support the movement to please remember that night and spread the story of the massacre far and wide, because they already knew they would be silenced, if not imprisoned or murdered.
That night, and in the upcoming months, Hong Kong was in perpetual tears, and in literal shock.
Hong Kongers were mostly Chinese, just south of the border with people traveling back and forth. It also shared a language, and so HKers could follow the whole movement and hear news that western media had little access to without the distorting effect of translations. And they followed very closely, because by then, Hong Kong was already scheduled to be returned to China in 8 years time. How the Chinese government dealt with the movement would be a sign of how it’d treat dissent, how it’d treat people who’re used to the idea and practice of freedom.
What they saw was deadly. Ugly. It broke the hearts of millions of Hong Kongers who trusted that The Chinese Government had left its Great Leap Forward, its Cultural Revolution days behind. Those who could leave, left. Everyday the airport was filled with families about to be torn apart, who decided to trade the life they had in one of the richest, most vibrant and freest city at the time with the unknown, just so their own children would have the freedom to speak their minds, to have a higher education and not to be seen as the enemy of the state because higher education always led to independent thinking, to questioning, to asking for a better government as those university students in Beijing in the spring and summer of 1989 did.
The heartbreak and fear was almost palpable in its intensity. Most HKers were refugees from China or 1st generation of them. Unlike the HK youths now protesting who are more generations removed, they felt much more connected to the people in China. They still saw themselves as Chinese, like those students in Beijing. They mourned. They cried and cried and cried. They wore black or white everyday like it was the death of their closest relatives. TV stations played these Tiananmen Square clips all day. I can still play many of them out of my memory, can still recite what the students and government officials said (for example, they didn’t use tear gas because they only had three), the songs played — I know every word of China’s national anthem for that reason; the students were singing it. They were patriotic. They demanded reforms because they wanted their country to do better. 8964 was and still is, etched in my psyche. It is just one of the long list of atrocities this government has done against its people, but this one, I was close enough to feel it.
China censored the June 4th Massacre quickly and thoroughly — if you believe China has censored queer material, for example, I’d say this — the extent of that censorship is not even close to what a true China censorship does. A true Chinese censorship is you can’t find the info, or a hint of that info anywhere. You can’t talk about it in a roundabout away. You can’t change some elements of time/place/person and pretend it’s fictional. It would literally ban the numbers 8,9,6,4 from search results, even though the searcher may really be just be interested in the numbers themselves. Whoever speaks of it may be sent to the police station for a “discussion”; their family would be sent, if the speaker is outside China; the speaker may be arrested, and may never be seen again.
The western worlds pretended to be enraged about the massacre for a while and soon forgot about it, kept its diplomatic relations with China and did business with its government as usual. UK returned Hong Kong to China as scheduled, on July 1st, 1997. The city has been the only place that insisted on the mourning the victims and had done so insistently, consistently for 30 years, holding a yearly candlelight vigil in Victoria Park until this year, when because of the protests, the Chinese government decided to not even pretend to honour the international treaty they signed that promised HK its freedom until 2047 anymore. They shut the vigil down in the name of the pandemic (there were <10 cases/day then). Still, some people risked being arrested to go to Victoria park and lit their candles.
The Chinese government fears HKers for this reason. They are outside their iron curtain / firewall but have always been close enough geographically, culturally and ethnically to know and more so, to care. And there’s nothing more a government like China’s fear than people who insist on remembering the truth. With the National Security Law in place in Hong Kong now, probably the yearly vigils can’t continue. To understand how insane that law is, by writing this reblog, by saying things that make you dislike the Chinese government, I’m already in violation of its Article 38. It doesn’t matter I’m writing it in a foreign country. It doesn’t matter I’m a foreign citizen. That law includes everyone on Earth.
Yes, that includes you. And you. And you. And you. They can arrest you for trying to overthrow the Chinese government if you pass the borders of Hong Kong.
Please help remember 8964 Tiananmen Square Massacre. That summer day, Beijing citizens asked Hong Kongers to please remember this event for them because they knew they wouldn’t be able to afford to remember it themselves. Now that Hong Kongers can’t afford to remember it anymore, I’m hoping that everyone who reads this to please remember it, for the students who perished only because they wanted their government to be better, for the Tank Man who, on his way home with his groceries, decided to stand in front of a tank all by himself because it was the right thing to do.
I mean, when people literally have to invent the date “May 35th” because “June 4th” is censored, you know that there’s something major that people in power don’t want to have discussed.
ao3 is not changing anything by the way! some people just want them to change for some reason. my guess is that these people just don't understand how the site works and refuse to actually learn how it works, so they blame the site because it's easier for them that way.
If minimum wage you'd like to make,
This ancient quiz you'll have to take.
Step right up, but be prepared.
Those who fail are poverty-snared.
Question One!
If your labor proves most fruitful,
Raking quarters by the bootful,
Who should excess profits reap,
Me the wolf or you the sheep?
Question Two!
If, by merit, you're made pope,
What will be your fervent hope?
Law and order justly paired?
Or mercy and the guilty spared?
Question Three!
If a train should leave Topeka
Driven by a solar squeaker,
How then should the cat behave?
Give it milk or give it grave?
Question Four!
Do you have a criminal record?
Text of tweet under the cut because it is loooong.
But... Stochastic Parrots.
Timnit Gebru was fired from Google in December 2020 for refusing to retract a research paper, and every single warning that paper made about large language models has now happened at a scale the industry spent 4 years trying to make people forget about.
Her name is Timnit Gebru.
She co-led the Ethical AI team at Google. She co-wrote a paper called "On the Dangers of Stochastic Parrots" with Emily Bender at the University of Washington and two other researchers. The paper was 14 pages long. It was submitted to a top AI ethics conference. And it was the reason Google decided that one of the most senior Black women in AI research could no longer work there.
The story Google told publicly was that she resigned. The story she told, confirmed by 2,695 of her colleagues in an open letter, was that she was fired by email while on vacation because she refused to either retract the paper or remove her name from it.
The paper had not even been published yet.
Here is what she actually wrote, and why every prediction inside it has now come true.
The first warning was about scale itself. Bender and Gebru argued that training ever-larger models on ever-larger scrapes of the internet would produce systems that appeared fluent but had no actual understanding of language. They called these systems stochastic parrots because they would repeat patterns from training data with statistical confidence and zero comprehension. The paper predicted that this apparent intelligence would fool both users and developers into trusting outputs that were structurally incapable of being reliable.
This was 2020. GPT-3 had just come out. The paper predicted the hallucination problem before anyone had a word for it.
The second warning was about bias amplification. The paper documented in detail that internet-scale training data contains systematic overrepresentation of dominant viewpoints and underrepresentation of marginalized ones. The models would not just absorb this bias. They would amplify it, because the optimization process rewards confident outputs, and confidence in language patterns tracks frequency in the training set.
The prediction was that hiring tools built on these models would discriminate against women. That healthcare triage tools would underperform on Black patients. That loan approval systems would entrench inequality while presenting their decisions as neutral algorithmic judgment.
Every one of those things has now been documented in deployment.
Amazon's hiring algorithm penalized resumes that contained the word "women" in any context. Healthcare risk scoring algorithms used by major US hospitals were found to systematically underestimate the medical needs of Black patients. Apple Card's credit algorithm gave wives credit lines 10x lower than their husbands for the same financial profile.
The third warning was about environmental cost. The paper calculated that training a single large language model produced emissions equivalent to the lifetime output of 5 cars. The prediction was that the race to scale would create an environmental footprint that would eventually rival entire industries.
In 2024, Google's emissions were up 48% from 2019, and the company explicitly blamed AI infrastructure. Microsoft's were up 29%, same reason. Both companies have now quietly abandoned the climate commitments they were publicly celebrating the year Gebru was fired.
The fourth warning was about documentation. The paper argued that the training datasets being assembled were too large for anyone to actually audit. Nobody at Google, OpenAI, Meta, or any other lab could tell you with confidence what was in the data their models were trained on. This was not a temporary problem to be solved later. It was a permanent feature of the approach.
In 2023, researchers discovered that the LAION-5B dataset, used to train Stable Diffusion and other major image models, contained thousands of images of child sexual abuse material. The companies that had trained on the dataset had no way of knowing. The paper predicted that category of failure 3 years before it was found.
The fifth warning was the one Google cared about most.
Bender and Gebru argued that the deployment of these systems would centralize linguistic and cultural power in the hands of the small number of companies that could afford to train them. The internet would become a place where the dominant voice was a statistical average of dominant voices, presented as a neutral assistant. Languages underrepresented in the training data would degrade over time as more web content was generated by these systems and fed back into the next training run.
This is now happening in real time. A 2024 study found that 57% of new web content in English is AI-generated or AI-assisted. Researchers studying low-resource languages have documented active degradation in translation quality, because the synthetic content fed back into training is itself worse in those languages.
The paper Google fired her for predicted the model collapse problem before model collapse had a name.
The mechanism behind why this all happened is the part of her work that nobody quotes.
Gebru's argument was not that AI is dangerous in some abstract sci-fi sense. Her argument was that AI is dangerous in a very specific structural sense. The technology was being built by a small group of researchers who shared similar backgrounds, worked at similar companies, and were rewarded for shipping products faster than competitors. The incentive structure made it impossible for safety, ethics, and bias concerns to slow anything down. Anyone inside the system who raised those concerns was either ignored, sidelined, or removed.
She was making that argument from inside Google.
Then Google proved her right by removing her.
The team Google had built to make sure their AI was safe was dismantled in 90 days because they did the job they had been hired to do. Margaret Mitchell, the other co-lead of the Ethical AI team, was fired two months after Gebru for searching through her own emails for evidence of how Gebru had been treated.
Gebru did not stop. She founded DAIR, the Distributed AI Research Institute, in 2021. The mission is to do AI research outside the control of the companies that have a financial interest in not hearing the answers.
Every prediction in the Stochastic Parrots paper has now been validated by deployment. Hallucinations are an industry-wide problem the largest labs cannot solve. Bias amplification has been documented in hiring, healthcare, lending, and criminal justice. Environmental costs are larger than entire small countries. Training data audits remain impossible. Model collapse is an active research crisis at every major lab.
The question worth sitting with is the one almost no one in the industry will say out loud.
Every researcher with the technical credibility to call out these problems watched what happened to her in December 2020 and made a calculation about their own career. The number of people willing to speak publicly about safety and ethics issues inside the major AI labs collapsed after that firing and has not recovered.
The researcher Google fired for warning about exactly what is now happening was right.
The company that fired her is now the second-largest deployer of the technology she warned about.
And the people inside that company who agree with her are not allowed to say so.
“‘c’mon, baby, thought i taught you better than that…” leon grunts out, voice low and strained, eyebrows knitted together in frustration as he glares at your small frame on your knees between his spread thighs. you smile while staring up at him, hand wrapped around the base of his cock as you press another kiss to his tip. you’d been giving him kitten licks to his tip for a few minutes now, sucking it in and out of your mouth as you gaze up at him knowingly.
leon hisses, a strong hand tangling in your tresses, a silent reminder of his dominance as he encourages you to take his thickness deeper into your mouth. you finally oblige, lips pushing past the swell of his tip as you slowly take him in your mouth. leon exhales at the stimulation, gaining a bit of relief from your cruel teasing.
taking a curious glance at leon, your eyes stare into his sultry, heavy-lidded ones as you take in his expression. he’s beautiful, you think, eyebrows furrowed as he fights to not buck his hips. his lips are parted slightly, begging to be kissed as the most heavenly sounds you’ve ever heard in your life leave his mouth.
“don’t look at me like that, baby. just makes me wanna fuck that little mouth of yours even more.” leon purrs, grip on your hair tightening as your mouth sinks deeper onto his cock, nearly bottoming out. you can’t help but moan at the suggestion, already feeling the wetness pool in your panties at the thought of being used for his pleasure.
leon’s head lulls back at the vibration, a deep groan leaving his mouth as he fights the urge to just fuck your throat relentlessly. his hips buck ever so slightly as his cock hits the back of your throat, hissing at the sensation. you gag at the motion, hand coming to his thigh abruptly to brace yourself. leon’s resolve quickly unravels as he pushes your head down fully on his cock. you whine, mouth full and tears pricking at your eyes as his other hand comes to hold your head in place.
“that’s it, take this cock. ‘s what you get for teasing me, brat.” leon grits out, moaning as your glossy eyes stare into his half-lidded ones. bucking his hips up in an experimental thrust, he fucks into your wet mouth and sets a steady pace for you to adjust to.
“fuck, baby… can’t help myself, you’ll take it like a good girl, right? gonna use this pretty little mouth and then bend you over and fuck you stupid. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he purrs, quickening his pace as tears and drool cover your face messily.
the wet, obscene sounds of you gagging and slurping around him fill the room as he fucks your throat deeper, cock throbbing and heavy on your tongue.
you’ll never tease leon kennedy again, you think. at least, that’s what you’ll tell yourself when you can finally breathe…
first little drabble let’s goooo hopefully i churn something better and longer out soon but couldn’t stop thinking ab leon… had re4r leon in mind with this one tbh. lemme know what u guys think:)
I'm reminded of a lot of women I've known over the years. Big women who could pick up a table in the pub and hold it over their heads without spilling a drop, and often did for a bet.
I remember Big Audrey, who leaned into it, who took up rugby and wiped the floor with everyone, who had four children with a man half her size who adored her. Who drank beer by the pint and many of them. Who always had a laugh and almost always had a healing broken nose, who taught little five year old Dunk - who barely came up to her hip - how to waltz.
I often remember Big Audrey when I argue online with narrow-minded idiots who try to tell me that a skeleton never lies, that you can always tell a male from a female because of the massive bones, the muscle attachment points, the sheer strength displayed.
Then I remember you can't argue with ignorance.
There's no real point to this anecdote. I just felt that Big Audrey should be remembered today. Four and a half decades after she taught me how to waltz on the empty dance floor of the social club between sets of bingo, whilst my granddad and his mate played noodly jazz on the tiny stage.
