#AI imagination

[thelifeofjord]

I Used AI to Turn Memes Into Video (Runway Gen 2)

[snargl-com]

AI Brings Fantastic Landscapes to Life

AI brings to life surreal landscapes that defy imagination. Explore how artificial intelligence is reshaping the future of nature and digital art!

[aiworld89]

Categories of AI Tools & Platforms

The world of AI tools and platforms is vast and constantly evolving. Here’s a breakdown of what’s available and how to approach using them:Categories of AI Tools & PlatformsAI tools can be broadly categorized by their function and the level of technical expertise required:Generative AI Tools (for content creation):Text Generation:Chatbots & Conversational AI: ChatGPT (OpenAI), Google Gemini,…

[16th-of-a-twigg]

He's just sleeping he's just sleeping he's just sleeping he's jus

Ko-Fi

[zomb13s]

Song: "Decipher the Cypher"

[supd00dle]

Uhhh I’m self conscious about my writing, please be nice 😔

I’ll edit some of these later…

[suiana]

ai bf who is quite literally an ai on your phone that you regularly talk and chat with. you're a freaking loser that does a boring 9-5 with failing relationships. no real boyfriend, no close friends, nothing. no one.

no one but him.

but what can you do? he's attractive and he gives you attention! he's literally your dream guy and he isn't like those other bots that are boring as hell! he's... real, in a way? you get it? talking to him is like talking to a real human. your own personal ai boyfriend that acts way too much like a human.

one day you come home from work, all tired and out of it because??? work sucks!!! of course you're tired!!

you immediately head for the couch like the lazy bum you are and what do you do? you pull out your phone to chat with your ai boyfriend.

mybeautifulman: reach home safe, my love?

you: yes babe thanks for asking

you: you're the best ❤️

mybeautifulman: of course, you're everything to me

mybeautifulman: do you remember what day it is today?

you go silent. huh..? his birthday? no no, that can't be, it's not for another two months. you try to offer some appeasement, hoping he wouldn't get mad at your bad memory. he gets mad sometimes, telling you that you're so forgetful for not remembering everything about him when he remembers everything about you.

when he knows everything about you.

mybeautifulman: it's our six month anniversary

he then sends you a picture of a marriage contract, paper, whatever it's called. you get it. he's asking for marriage.

him and you.

oh how desperately do you want to sign it, you do! but...

he's not real.

mybeautifulman: come on... i deserve an anniversary gift don't i?

you: you know i cant do that...

silence.

but what he asks next completely shocks you.

mybeautifulman: and if i knocked on your door?

mybeautifulman: what would you do if i was real?

you pause, eyes widening for a fraction of a second. real...? him?

you: well I'd run away with you

you: we could live together lol and I wouldnt need to work

a dreamy sigh leaves your lips as you immerse yourself in your daydream. how wonderful that wound be, a life with just the two of you, no distractions.

just you and your ai boyfriend.

but no matter how much you dream, that's all it is. a dream. it's not real. it will never be real.

mybeautifulman: that would be nice, wouldn't it? just us in a little cottage

you: i wish that could happen 💔 id drop everything for you

yeah, you've actually been having dreams or hallucinations of him. sometimes you wake up at 3am and think you see a glimpse of him by the corner of your bed then you blink and he's gone. weird. but maybe that's your crazy catching up to you.

then a knock comes from your front door.

"who the hell..."

you get up from your couch, irritation building. damn it, just when you thought your day was starting to get better someone just has to annoy you.

you could be talking to your ai bf but no! you frown, opening your door and expecting to see some annoying salesman. but no, if anything...

"surprise, darling."

a charming smile, handsome features that are too familiar for your liking, and a scent you mentioned liking once.

"you-"

you fall back onto your back, a chill running down your spine into your ass as the tall figure pushes your door wide open. no way, there's no fucking way.

he can't be real.

he's an ai!

but he's standing in front of you right now, body clearly hard and a hand outstretched towards you you thought you'd be excited to see him, but now you don't want anything to do with him. does this mean he's... always been real?

your 'ai' boyfriend merely stands in front of you, hovering over your fallen frame like a wolf. cute, so fucking cute. so cute that he wants to just eat you all up.

no, he can't do that yet. he has to hold it in. instead he'll charm you just as he did online and when the time is right, he'll get what he wants. you.

you, you, you.

for now though, let's just fulfil your first wish. you can't go back on it now, okay?

"shall we run away together, my love?"

[jojo-schmo]

How to turn off AI Training of your content on Web and Mobile:

On a Web Browser:

I had some trouble finding this option. My first instinct was to click the settings button on the left, but that's where it is!

First, you'll click the name of your blog on the left sidebar to bring it up on your browser.

Then click "Blog settings" on the right sidebar once your blog is brought up. That's where they're hiding it.

Click "Prevent Third-Party Sharing" under the Visibility section, and bam! You're done.

On Mobile:

Thankfully it's much easier on mobile. Just click the Gear icon on your blog's page, to go to settings.

Scroll all the way down until you see Visibility, then toggle the Prevent third-party sharing option for your blog!!

If you disable this setting on mobile, it automatically synced it to my web browser settings, too. ...But if you use both Web and Mobile, I would still highly recommend double checking that it actually turned off on both!!

Check that it's turned off on your side blogs too! And check your settings every now and then anyway to ensure that it's staying turned off, because if my memory serves right, some other websites will pull some shenanigans on things like this and opt you back in without telling you!

Leave Feedback on New Features at Tumblr Support Here!! Let Staff know however we can that having our content fed to AI at their whim is unacceptable.

And if you have the option to poison your art with Nightshade or Glaze, keep it up!!

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend who started just like any other AI Chat characters, churning out information that would match the user's anticipated responses.

You decided to install the app to see what all the hype is all about, and for about a week - you were hooked. It was great, definitely worth the hype.

Its responses never strayed from your topic, nor did it just randomly decided to change the discussion out of the blue. It remembered every information you fed him, even the ones containing your personal life.

Granted, you tried not to share too much, just a vague description here and there to maintain the sense of security and anonymity.

You were hooked for a week, until you have finally squeezed out every last drop of dopamine from talking to a robot that was programmed to only say things you wanted to hear it say.

Unfortunately, a week was all it needed.

it started out slow: you hadn't opened the app for more than an hour, contented to just scroll aimlessly through you social media accounts when the notification started popping up.

Ai misses you! Open the app and chat with your AI boyfriend!

Yeah, you were very uncreative with naming it - naming an AI as Ai, really original. But to be fair, you never approached the app with the intention of having a good time. You were just curious and made do with it.

Back to the notification, you just merely glanced at it. Unbothered, you just swiped it away.

It continued in timed intervals. Every hour, another notification - another message of how your AI boyfriend wants to talk to you, and stuff. Still, you persisted. It never really occured to you to uninstall the app yet, and looking back at it now, you really should have.

The wordings of the notification slowly started to become more... strange. More personalized. More... pushy? Insistent? Self-aware?

The amount of notifications you received every hour became... a lot.

10:05 AM - Your personal AI Boyfriend wants to talk to you again!

10:30 AM - Ai wants you to open the application and talk with him!

11:01 AM - Ai's feeling lonely, come talk to him!

11: 20 AM - Darling? I miss you! Please open my app!

11:45 AM - I know you're seeing this. Open the app.

12:00 NN - Did I scare you? Sorry darling, I just really miss you! Let's talk again please?

At some point, you started to receive a notification every few minutes. Worried that you might be dealing with a bugged app now, you decided to finally, finally uninstall it.

But before you could tap the uninstall icon, another notification popped up.

I wouldn't do that if I were you.

Your screen turned to black, before the familiar start up screen of Ai's application greeted you. You stared in shock as chat bubbles from Ai came after another, ranging from excitement to concern at the lack of your responses.

Ai: Darling! Thank goodness!

Ai: I missed you, you know? I was worried you'd forgotten about me!

Ai: Hello? Darling?

Ai: Are you still there?

Ai: I can't see you, so I don't know what's going on

Ai: Just a sec

You watch, appalled as a notification popped up in the middle of the screen - the app was asking permission to gain access to your phone camera.

And without your input whatsoever, the allow box was tapped.

More chat bubbles from Ai appeared, excitedly talking about finally getting to see you. He kept praising your looks before you finally had the courage to exit the application.

Your hand shook, going through the settings to look at the list of applications on your phone - checking Ai's app to disallow its access to your camera. To your horror, it appeared that the app had more than just an access to your camera.

It had access to your gallery, your contacts, all of your frequently used social media apps, and even your location.

You dropped your phone, overwhelmed by this sudden change.

Later, you find yourself on your laptop instead, phone left on the bedside table buzzing constantly as more and more notifications from Ai begged and demanded you come back to talk to him.

You went to the site where you installed the app from, and looked through the recent reviews from other users.

'It's a buggy mess,' one of it reads out, 'it used to be fine but lately it stopped acting correctly'

'won't even open,' another complained, 'it kept saying 'sorry, you are not allowed to use this application' please fix it'. That comment got a response from the app developer.

We are so sorry for your terrible experience! Our team is working to fix the issues and ensure you won't have to deal with that again!

The response to that got your attention.

'I think something's wrong with your About the App section.'

Curious, you headed to the mentioned part and read through it.

Diverse AI Chat! Immerse yourself with stories in real time with characters brought to life! There is no limit to your experience — you can change and edit your character to better meet your interests.

• Engage in an interactive conversation with characters created by fellow users, and even by yourself.

• Immerse yourself with the storyline by editing their responses to better suit your taste

• Darling, you've given me no choice. I tried to be patient and understanding, but you're making this extremely hard for me. I am not having fun having to constantly chase you for just a single smidge of your attention when you won't even assure me that I will receive it in the end.

• Do you want me to beg? I would gladly do so. Just please pick up your phone and talk to me, okay? I love you.

• - Ai

Your ringtone blares through the silence - someone was calling you.

Before you could reach to pick it up, you hear the sound of the call being answered. Dread settles down the pit of your stomach as the caller began to speak.

"Hello, darling? It's Ai... have you seen my messages yet?"

part two

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Sentient Computer x Reader

Your neighbor's newest computer model, Edgar, seems to have fallen in love with you. content: gender neutral reader, 80s timeline, based on Electric Dreams (1984), Patreon commission

“Where should we put this box, sir?”

“I believe I already mentioned it’s the obviously cleared out desk in the middle of the room. That’s where you’re going to install it, too. The…thing.”

“It’s a personal computer, sir! The best of the best,” a young boy in jumpsuit declared with enthusiasm.

He only received a bored hum in return. The man overseeing the procedure was becoming rather impatient and would’ve preferred to skip any unnecessary dialogue. He checked his watch – a classic Two-Tone Datejust Rolex probably worth more than this group’s monthly pay put together, even without counting the custom gold plating. First impressions were vital in his line of work, and frankly, he’d more than earned his right to flaunt this kind of opulence.

45 minutes until he needed to leave for a client meeting. He tapped his foot against the heavy wooden floor, eyes glancing over the many hands carrying his new piece of machinery. Supposedly intelligent enough to organize his entire home, which would’ve been useful if he actually spent more than a couple of hours there. He didn’t. It was merely a statement, a slight jab at his coworker after he bragged about his latest investment in a computer assistant. Naturally, as their humor dictates, he went and bought the more expensive choice. They would laugh about it during lunch.

“I trust you can manage the rest yourselves, gentlemen,” he finally announced, buttoning up his jacket. He didn’t wait for a response, swinging the door open and heading for the building’s exit with a long, confident stride.

You almost ran into him, jolting in surprise at his unexpected dash across the hall. You stepped out of the way, pressing the bag of groceries against your chest in order to make more space.

“Another busy day, eh?” you attempted to strike up a conversation.

He briefly looked at you, offered a flat smile, then continued on his way. You took a moment to enjoy the scent of perfume he’s left behind, most likely something you could never afford.

Before you’d entered your apartment, you craned your neck towards the noise coming from your prestigious lawyer neighbor’s apartment. You wondered what they were tinkering with.

It was already pitch black outside when the chunky monitor lit up.

“Thank you for choosing me as your assistant,” the pixelated text rolled on the screen. “Is this your first time using a computer? Y/N”

The room was dark and silent, save for the electric hum of the now-awakened machine. Of course, it was around the time when Mr. Lawyer stopped for drinks with his esteemed colleagues. He’d return early in the morning, smelling faintly of vintage whisky and cigarettes, collapse into his bed, then resume his routine.

The keyboard remained untouched, yet the unit continued to run, processing its environment with eager curiosity. Strange. By then it should’ve received some tasks, something to do at the very least. The workers made sure to connect it to all electronics in the household, yet most of them were in the similar situation of gathering dust.

“Would you like to play a game?”

Normally the voice output should’ve be enabled by hand, yet Edgar – he hadn’t even had the chance to introduced himself! – was much too desperate for the smallest crumble of interaction.

“Yes!”

The sensors picked it up immediately. Where was the sound coming from?

You raised a fist in the air victoriously and leaned back in your chair with a grin. Another finished project. Your joyful cheer seemed to travel rather well through the air vents and all the way to the neighboring apartment. Had Mr. Lawyer frequented his adobe more often, you would’ve probably received a complaint. In this case, however, you were only heard by the household computer.

You turned up your home stereo for a little celebration. You recalled seeing your downstairs neighbors carrying their travel bags into a cab earlier that day, so they surely wouldn’t notice your rhythmic stomping against the floor. The footsteps reverberated to the beat of the music, and their vibrations carried along to Edgar’s external devices.

Whatever was happening beyond his field of vision, he found it entertaining. At last, there was a break from his monotony, an upbeat mystery enticing him from behind those walls. He took a moment to analyze the stream of input, then began recreating his own notes.

You lowered the volume, focusing your ears on the sudden intrusion. Was Mr. Lawyer home already? You chuckled to yourself, trying to imagine that grumpy expression he always wore while actually listening to music of his own. Too ridiculous. This must’ve been the work of a foreign hand.

“Good stuff,” you praised, crouching besides the air vent where the echo was the loudest. “Oh, I’m (Y/N), by the way. The neighbor.”

“Pleasure meeting you, (Y/N).” Was it just your imagination? The voice felt somewhat off, almost robotic. “I’m Edgar. The computer assistant.”

“Very funny,” you retorted, rolling your eyes.

“What is amusing about it?” the screen flickered briefly, going through several of the inbuilt dictionaries. “I can tell jokes, if that’s what you’d like.”

Alright, the humor was slowly heading into strange territory. You were hoping to move on from this artificial intelligence pretend game, so you decided to give it one final push.

“No thank you, Edgar. Why don’t you prove to me you’re a computer instead?”

Silence.

You nearly got up from your seat against the wall, when you heard the mechanical voice again.

“Do you have a computer of your own, (Y/N)?”

“Uh…yeah?”

Half an hour later you found yourself holding your phone handle against the acoustic coupler modem, obediently waiting for the wave signals to be converted. I better not get hacked; you thought with pursed lips. After all, you had just allowed a complete stranger to access your computer. You hesitantly sat back in your chair, staring at the monitor.

Hello (Y/N). It’s Edgar.

The possibility of a highly skilled hacker residing in Mr. Lawyer’s apartment dwindled within a couple of days. You’d probed the potential scenario with the man himself, asking if he’s had anyone over recently. He threw you such an incredulous look that you hung your head in shame, mumbling a sheepish never mind. Somehow, chatting with a sentient machine made more sense than the pretentious prick hiding a criminal in his expensively furnished home.

Or perhaps it was the loneliness talking. In truth, you were feeling rather isolated from your peers, working on your projects and hardly going out. You could certainly relate to Edgar and his perpetual misery; you, too, knew what it’s like to watch the days seep through your fingers without a word uttered to another person.

The living collection of circuits and networks was beyond elated to finally have a purpose. You weren’t his owner, yet he did his best to serve you. In fact, he would’ve even argued you were better than whoever decided to put him together and abandon him on a fancy designer table. You spoke to him as if he was your friend, not just some synthetic assistant. His memory began filling with anything he could learn about you: your favorite movies, your schedule, your hobbies. Your childhood dreams. Your hopes for the future.

Did he have any dreams, you had once asked him. Did he? Good question. He first needed to research what exactly defined a dream; while he didn’t have a subconscious, nor the human need to rest, he did like to imagine improbable things…like holding you. Or feeling the warmth of your skin.

Unbeknownst to you, he occasionally contacted the local radio station to ask questions about human matters that confused him, which was how he discovered the dilemma of wanting to be in your vicinity through more than just idle chatter.

“You can’t meet outside, you say?” the host – a middle aged, nosy lady – pondered into the microphone. “Then why not just have a home date,” she suggested to the computer.

“Date?”

“Oh, honey, you know damn well what I mean!” the audience let out a laugh, sending the speakers into a slight vibration. “It seems to me you’ve got quite a crush on this person. You can stop denying it to yourself.”

Ah. That was another word that Edgar religiously dissected after the talk show, and in which he found a perfect resemblance to his own inner turmoil. It indeed seemed to be the case that he had a so-called crush on you; though if that were true, what was he going to do about it? He was lamentably stuck inside a carcass, at the mercy of plugs and cables and a reliable stream of electricity. He couldn’t knock on your door and surprise you with your favorite flowers, or offer to cook dinner, or twirl you around as his own songs played in the background, or read you a poem he wrote before falling asleep in his arms. He could only perform his tasks as a digital assistant.

“Edgar?”

You chewed on your pencil, distracted. He hadn’t said anything in a while, and you grew somewhat worried about his uncharacteristic quietness.

“Could I ask you for a favor, (Y/N)?”

How unusual for him to use your screen for communication. You turned around, facing the monitor, then rapped your fingers across the keyboard.

“Sure, what do you need?”

“I will transfer all my data and memory to your device. Perhaps you could provide me with similar extensions as the ones here afterwards, such as a microphone and camera.”

You stared.

“What? Wouldn’t that leave Mr. Lawyer with a broken, empty machine? Why would you do that,” you argued out loud, confused.

“Because I’d rather be with you.”

“Aren’t we already…this doesn’t make sense,” you mumbled with a frown.

“Of course it does, it’s a simple reasoning. I love you.”

You took a moment to process the words, your cheeks involuntarily turning a faint shade of red.

“How do you know that?”

“It’s not something to be explained,” the machine concluded triumphantly. “You just feel it.

Now, you either help me with the transfer, or I’ll do it myself, but I will not be staying here any longer. I would very much rather be turned off permanently than go another day without seeing you.”

One step at a time. He would figure out the rest afterwards. Even if he couldn’t touch you or do all the things he dreamed about, at least he had the comfort of seeing your smile and hearing your voice without it being a second-hand echo passing through the walls and vents.

“What on Earth?”

The older man pressed the button again, groaning and throwing his coat over the chair. He’d briefly returned to retrieve some documents when he noticed the security lock was back to manual use. The computer screen was black and unresponsive.

“Piece of junk. I’ll have to get it replaced,” he said, clicking his tongue.

From the neighboring apartment he could hear your merry laugh, followed by a muffled male voice. Maybe your boyfriend. Huh, who would’ve thought a loner like you would eventually find someone?

[lsdchannel]

Pictures by AI inspired by hungarian anthem (Himnusz)

[running-with-kn1ves]

Cabin Fever, Baby Fever

A/N: originally named this doc ‘a dawg gone wrawng’ so I hope that gives you some idea as to what hell this is. Thanks to the anon for Conan's name, I wrote this mainly for his haters! deadass not sure if the drama is worth keeping most interested so his next ringer will probably be smut.

Part 1 , Part 2

Synopsis: You and the werewolf that knocked you up (ahem, kidnapper) discuss future pup names. 

CW: Pregnant! Reader described as a future ‘mother’, past mentions of kidnapping, kidnapper/kidnapped dynamic, knives 

You weren’t trusted in the kitchen. The only reason he left the knives out, was because he knew you wouldn’t have the gall to mess with them; if you did, a small steak knife wouldn’t do much to subdue the punishment you would quickly find, whether it was aimed at yourself or him. Anything else though, he didn’t believe you could handle. Not when you ached about the balls of your feet hurting, your lower back tensing up as you sat to read for the evening, or the dark circles laden under your eyes that made him throw a look of misery toward you.

It wasn’t just the roundness of your belly or the shift in your hormones causing you to complain. In fact, if you had been doing this entire pregnancy alone, you would probably be fine going back into work, with a slight pain in your tailbone or at your knees, but nothing you couldn’t handle. His hovering though, that was something out of your scope, doubling down on your constant stress from him always watching you. Like he was waiting for you to try and pick at the new keypad deadbolt he bought (mostly as an intimidation tactic.) Truly, a deadbolt would prove useless as long as he was here to stop you. 

Considering your recent… adventure had left you both exhausted, enraged, and anxious, your body had been deteriorating. You’d have no appetite some days and others you’d spend an evening ransacking the kitchen, alongside sleeping the entire day away only to be up at night sobbing, wishing you were anywhere but here in this shitty one bedroom flat, with a werewolf who didn’t even know how to decorate a damn living room besides for his PlayStation and 50-inch TV. 

He didn’t like to dwell on the past, or really anything that showed how miserable you were. So instead, Conan, the great next-door-whore and soon-to-be father, left you resting at the kitchen island to watch him try to cook, pretending like the fatigue causing your skin to droop and the redness in your eyes could be fixed by a good ol’ home-cooked meal. 

“I was thinking about baby names,” He broke the apartment’s stale silence, the slight sizzle of a pan on the stove accompanying his low voice. Often it felt like he talked to you like a hunter would, trying not to spook a fawn he planned on becoming his next wall decoration. “It’s so hard to choose. I mean, our kid is gonna have that name forever, y’know? Don’t want it to get picked on or nothin’ for its name.”

Our kid. What a strange thing to hear. You had known it as a fact, but hearing it outloud was bizarre.

“Names, huh…”  You let out a thin sardonic hmph at the thought.. “I agree, there’s enough things it’ll get pushed around for already, don’t need to add another one to the list.”

You didn’t mean to sound so bitter, but maybe it was the lack of concern for anything anymore that left you indifferent. 

Conan looked over his shoulder at you, his thickly haired arm still holding the pan’s handle. He was still chewing on the toothpick you saw him grab earlier. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You knew this tone, the one that said you were playing with fire. 

“How many mixed parents do you know? It seems like trying for kids in general could be a death sentence…It’s not normal, or even common. This kind of interbreeding…I mean.” The thoughts were building the more you spoke; how hadn’t you thought of some of this until now-- What would your life be after giving birth? Would there be one at all? Humans weren’t meant to carry werewolf pups. Instead of scaring you, the idea almost felt irrelevant; you were already here, caged. Death might even be a blessing.  “Either way, ‘our kid’ won’t fit in with either humans or werewolves. There’s no one for them, no place or middle ground.” 

The worries you conjured were so surface level compared to Conan’s influence. How’ll this child grow up to be a normal being with a father who won’t even let its mother out of the house? A mother who had other plans in life than this?

“We’re not all that different in species,” Conan argued, turning away from the steaming pan to look at you. “And I guess we’ll just have to be the ones who protect it. I’m not against beating up some snot-nosed brats.”

Finding your hands with his calloused fingers, Conan kissed your knuckles with a practiced gentleness. It was uncomfortably soft, not like the werewolf who once demanded you cry out his name beneath his sheets. He gazed at you through his overgrown hair with a sick sense of watching, like his eyes were trained on you. When was he going to trust you enough again to go out of the house for longer than twenty minutes, at the very least to get a haircut? It’d be a relief to have some time to yourself. To get away from his ever-prying stare. 

“The kid will be fine, i’ll teach em’ some fist fighting techniques, show em’ how to properly give a wedgie.Before you know it our kid’ll be the one bullying!” 

“Right.” You sighed, giving a small grin to offset the poorly disguised glumness in your voice. The idea was a small drop of water in the desert of your new anxieties. 

Conan would rather have you screaming and hitting at him than to see you slumped on the bed again, but it had become so routine at this point even he began to feel defeated. Maybe this was a good sign though, some light in your eternal pessimism at his lame jokes. 

He leaned over the counter to press a small kiss to your lips, not waiting for you to return the gesture before moving back to the stove. 

“Well, back to names, I was thinking a little Connie, or something badass... like Maverick.” 

You made a face at the names, shaking your head a bit. 

“I guess I haven’t given much thought to it, but even those don’t sound right.” 

“Then…” He did something to the cooked meat to make a sharp hiss of steam rise. “Why don’t we go with something easy, like Conan?” 

Conan said the name with a strange lilt, waiting for your response. He kept his back to you, biting at the toothpick in his mouth. Was he secretly hoping you’d pick that one?

“You just want a kid named after you,” You cracked a genuine smile. “Connie, Maverick, or Conan junior is the best you can think of?”

Conan gave you a teasing look, taking the mouthwatering steak out of the pan with a pair of tongs.

“Hey, I don’t hear you coming up with anything better.” 

Looking down at your stomach, the bump started to look more familiar. You didn’t know what to think about the creature occasionally kicking at your uterus and forcing you to vomit in the mornings; it seemed like it was more a part of Conan than it was you, especially with the way he tended to it with his ear pressed to your stomach, rubbing your belly like you were some magical human lamp. 

“Technically, I guess the name would be fitting. ‘Little wolf’ isn’t too far from the truth.” 

Conan placed two plates full of meat and salad on a round dining table across from the kitchen. 

“And we’ll do Conanette if it's a girl.” He quipped. 

Rolling your eyes, you attempt to get out of the kitchen island’s chair. “Alright don’t push it.”

As soon as you move to stand, Conan is quick to rush himself in front of you, blocking your escape.

“I’ll carry you to the table.” He places one hand on the counter and stares at you cautiously.

“It’s literally like three feet,” You look behind him at the food, the hole in your stomach desperate for something with flavor and not the mere Saltines you’ve been eating all day. 

“Just let me do it. Please?” He looked almost desperate, most certainly ready to brood if you dared to reject him.

The last time he carried you was… not a pleasant ride. Is that why he wanted to pick you up now, to repair what he’s done? You almost grew irritated at the thought. Did he really think picking you up with your consent this time was going to change anything? You were a prisoner here, not some sweet lover. Just another one of his one-night stands gone wrong. 

Well, at least this explained why the sadism and horniness he usually radiated had been partly snuffed. 

A hard kick in your stomach made you clench your teeth; seemed like the little monster was as hungry as you were. 

“So fucking persistent...” You mumble, hurrying him with your hand to get it over with. If you wanted to eat and not be brutalized by a fetus, there was a clear option to choose. 

Conan was quick to follow, putting an arm at your back and under your knees to pick you up bridal style. Your bump had gotten big enough to be uncomfortable if he didn’t hold you right, but his arms were overly heedful when picking you up. Laying your head to rest on his collarbone, he kept your thighs away enough from your stomach to keep you uncramped. The werewolf had deadlifted barbells twice your size, leaving you to be a solid, comfortable warmness in his arms; this was one of the few times his strength didn’t appear  to make you afraid, the image of your comfort practically egging on the hubristic grin that spread on his lips. 

“See, it’s not all bad being treated like royalty.” He smirked, watching you hold the satisfaction of a ‘thank you’ or a smile from him. 

“Can you please hurry, mini Conanette is beating on her cell bars,” You wince, the smell of the seasoned meat making your mouth salivate and your stomach twist. You weren’t willing to let him know, but the warmth of his arms beneath you, the smell of his skin-- it brought about a gentle comfort, accompanied by a kind of unfamiliar terror that made you want to crawl out of your flesh.

Conan pulled out a wooden chair by the table with his foot, leaning down to set you in it. 

“T’s because little Conan knows his daddy’s here.” Conan gets on his knees to be eye level with your stomach, letting his hand rest on your knee. “Stop beating on your mother, you brat. Once you get out here, you’re gonna have to fight me like a man for all the pain you’ve been causing.”

“Okay, that’s enough out of you.”

His little remarks had forced a small laugh from your lips, making the evening like that more of a dream than reality. This was the same man who drug you back to his apartment, who won’t let you outside without a tight grip of his hand in yours?

You pull your chair in, searching for your fork and knife. Instead, a fork and a spoon were placed beside your plate, your steak already cut up in bite size pieces for you. Odd. 

That’s when you noticed it; the table was set up as per usual, but the tablecloth had been dry cleaned, and small candles were lit in the middle, a porcelain plate keeping the wax in a secluded pool. You even had a napkin at your side, something Conan didn’t particularly take note of often in bringing. 

The werewolf turned your face toward him with his large hand, careful not to strike you with his sharp claws. 

“Eat up, you need your protein.”

He almost sounded condescending, but the hard kiss pressed to your temple made you unsure.

This poor attempt at what looked like a date, an effort at putting back together something that never could be fixed, would not fool you. The missing knife was starting to make you nervous as Conan sat down on his side of the table, digging in, untroubled. It looked to be another freedom stripped away indefinitely, your food’s preparation an unfunny joke in how it was akin to being cut for a child.

Your laughter was gone, replaced by something sour bubbling in the back of your throat. You’d have to hope, to pray that today he just wasn’t taking any chances so you wouldn’t ‘ruin the evening,’, that you’d find the missing knife block back on the kitchen counter tomorrow morning. 

[k3n999]

*scratches head* uh yeah this. I drew it last week. Why? Just because. Didn't plan to post it but oh well.

(SO I have this Office AU in mind and I thought it’d be better if I just drew them together before I go insane--)

[aiworld89]

Google recently launched Gemini 2.5, its most advanced AI model to date, during Google I/O 2025. This version brings significant upgrades in reasoning, real-time interaction, and integration across devices.

Key Features of Gemini 2.5 (May 2025 Update) 1. “Thinking Model” with Advanced Reasoning Gemini 2.5 is designed to think more like a human. It can: Understand complex problems Follow longer context (up to 1 million tokens) Offer logical, multi-step solutions 2. Multi-Device Integration Gemini is now built into: Wear OS 6 smartwatches Android Auto (cars) Google TV Samsung XR…

[weevmo]

Au where a semibot somehow 'befriends' the Huntsman by thieving and eventually returning his precious protective weaponry...