#AI-powered voice agents

[aivoicesvcs1]

AI Voice Services by Think AI: Revolutionising Business Communication

AI Voice Services by Think AI is revolutionising the way businesses interact with their customers by offering advanced AI-powered voice solutions tailored for seamless automation, customer engagement, and operational efficiency. Designed to integrate effortlessly into existing systems, Think AI’s voice services provide businesses with a scalable and intelligent approach to automated communication.

From AI voice agents handling customer queries to automated appointment scheduling, AI-powered call routing, and personalised voice interactions, Think AI’s services are built to enhance customer experiences while reducing costs. By leveraging natural language processing (NLP) and deep learning, these AI-driven voice solutions enable human-like interactions, ensuring smooth and natural conversations.

Think AI's voice automation solutions are ideal for businesses in customer service, healthcare, finance, retail, and beyond, providing 24/7 availability and real-time responses to improve efficiency and customer satisfaction. Whether you need AI-powered call handling, automated voice assistants, or custom voice integrations for CRM and business operations, Think AI delivers state-of-the-art solutions designed for scalability, accuracy, and seamless deployment.

With AI-powered voice agents capable of multilingual support, sentiment analysis, and intelligent decision-making, Think AI ensures that businesses stay ahead in the era of digital transformation. The company also provides custom AI voice models to match brand identity and enhance customer engagement through conversational AI. Visit: https://www.thinkai.co.uk

[precallai]

How AI Is Revolutionizing Contact Centers in 2025

As contact centers evolve from reactive customer service hubs to proactive experience engines, artificial intelligence (AI) has emerged as the cornerstone of this transformation. In 2025, modern contact center architectures are being redefined through AI-based technologies that streamline operations, enhance customer satisfaction, and drive measurable business outcomes.

This article takes a technical deep dive into the AI-powered components transforming contact centers—from natural language models and intelligent routing to real-time analytics and automation frameworks.

1. AI Architecture in Modern Contact Centers

At the core of today’s AI-based contact centers is a modular, cloud-native architecture. This typically consists of:

NLP and ASR engines (e.g., Google Dialogflow, AWS Lex, OpenAI Whisper)

Real-time data pipelines for event streaming (e.g., Apache Kafka, Amazon Kinesis)

Machine Learning Models for intent classification, sentiment analysis, and next-best-action

RPA (Robotic Process Automation) for back-office task automation

CDP/CRM Integration to access customer profiles and journey data

Omnichannel orchestration layer that ensures consistent CX across chat, voice, email, and social

These components are containerized (via Kubernetes) and deployed via CI/CD pipelines, enabling rapid iteration and scalability.

2. Conversational AI and Natural Language Understanding

The most visible face of AI in contact centers is the conversational interface—delivered via AI-powered voice bots and chatbots.

Key Technologies:

Automatic Speech Recognition (ASR): Converts spoken input to text in real time. Example: OpenAI Whisper, Deepgram, Google Cloud Speech-to-Text.

Natural Language Understanding (NLU): Determines intent and entities from user input. Typically fine-tuned BERT or LLaMA models power these layers.

Dialog Management: Manages context-aware conversations using finite state machines or transformer-based dialog engines.

Natural Language Generation (NLG): Generates dynamic responses based on context. GPT-based models (e.g., GPT-4) are increasingly embedded for open-ended interactions.

Architecture Snapshot:

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Customer Input (Voice/Text)

       ↓

ASR Engine (if voice)

       ↓

NLU Engine → Intent Classification + Entity Recognition

       ↓

Dialog Manager → Context State

       ↓

NLG Engine → Response Generation

       ↓

Omnichannel Delivery Layer

These AI systems are often deployed on low-latency, edge-compute infrastructure to minimize delay and improve UX.

3. AI-Augmented Agent Assist

AI doesn’t only serve customers—it empowers human agents as well.

Features:

Real-Time Transcription: Streaming STT pipelines provide transcripts as the customer speaks.

Sentiment Analysis: Transformers and CNNs trained on customer service data flag negative sentiment or stress cues.

Contextual Suggestions: Based on historical data, ML models suggest actions or FAQ snippets.

Auto-Summarization: Post-call summaries are generated using abstractive summarization models (e.g., PEGASUS, BART).

Technical Workflow:

Voice input transcribed → parsed by NLP engine

Real-time context is compared with knowledge base (vector similarity via FAISS or Pinecone)

Agent UI receives predictive suggestions via API push

4. Intelligent Call Routing and Queuing

AI-based routing uses predictive analytics and reinforcement learning (RL) to dynamically assign incoming interactions.

Routing Criteria:

Customer intent + sentiment

Agent skill level and availability

Predicted handle time (via regression models)

Customer lifetime value (CLV)

Model Stack:

Intent Detection: Multi-label classifiers (e.g., fine-tuned RoBERTa)

Queue Prediction: Time-series forecasting (e.g., Prophet, LSTM)

RL-based Routing: Models trained via Q-learning or Proximal Policy Optimization (PPO) to optimize wait time vs. resolution rate

5. Knowledge Mining and Retrieval-Augmented Generation (RAG)

Large contact centers manage thousands of documents, SOPs, and product manuals. AI facilitates rapid knowledge access through:

Vector Embedding of documents (e.g., using OpenAI, Cohere, or Hugging Face models)

Retrieval-Augmented Generation (RAG): Combines dense retrieval with LLMs for grounded responses

Semantic Search: Replaces keyword-based search with intent-aware queries

This enables agents and bots to answer complex questions with dynamic, accurate information.

6. Customer Journey Analytics and Predictive Modeling

AI enables real-time customer journey mapping and predictive support.

Key ML Models:

Churn Prediction: Gradient Boosted Trees (XGBoost, LightGBM)

Propensity Modeling: Logistic regression and deep neural networks to predict upsell potential

Anomaly Detection: Autoencoders flag unusual user behavior or possible fraud

Streaming Frameworks:

Apache Kafka / Flink / Spark Streaming for ingesting and processing customer signals (page views, clicks, call events) in real time

These insights are visualized through BI dashboards or fed back into orchestration engines to trigger proactive interventions.

7. Automation & RPA Integration

Routine post-call processes like updating CRMs, issuing refunds, or sending emails are handled via AI + RPA integration.

Tools:

UiPath, Automation Anywhere, Microsoft Power Automate

Workflows triggered via APIs or event listeners (e.g., on call disposition)

AI models can determine intent, then trigger the appropriate bot to complete the action in backend systems (ERP, CRM, databases)

8. Security, Compliance, and Ethical AI

As AI handles more sensitive data, contact centers embed security at multiple levels:

Voice biometrics for authentication (e.g., Nuance, Pindrop)

PII Redaction via entity recognition models

Audit Trails of AI decisions for compliance (especially in finance/healthcare)

Bias Monitoring Pipelines to detect model drift or demographic skew

Data governance frameworks like ISO 27001, GDPR, and SOC 2 compliance are standard in enterprise AI deployments.

Final Thoughts

AI in 2025 has moved far beyond simple automation. It now orchestrates entire contact center ecosystems—powering conversational agents, augmenting human reps, automating back-office workflows, and delivering predictive intelligence in real time.

The technical stack is increasingly cloud-native, model-driven, and infused with real-time analytics. For engineering teams, the focus is now on building scalable, secure, and ethical AI infrastructures that deliver measurable impact across customer satisfaction, cost savings, and employee productivity.

As AI models continue to advance, contact centers will evolve into fully adaptive systems, capable of learning, optimizing, and personalizing in real time. The revolution is already here—and it's deeply technical.

[all-review-by-rk27]

Agent X | Digital - Software

Unveiling the Power of Efficiency: My Experience with Agent X

Feeling overwhelmed by a never-ending to-do list? Struggling to stay on top of your workload? In today's fast-paced world, maximizing efficiency is key. That's where Agent X comes in – a digital software that has become my personal productivity powerhouse.

Streamlining Workflows and Automation Magic

Agent X is more than just a task manager. It's a comprehensive workflow automation tool that helps you streamline repetitive tasks. Imagine scheduling social media posts, generating reports, or sending automated emails – all with just a few clicks. Agent X takes care of the mundane, freeing up your valuable time to focus on what truly matters.

Seamless Integration and Organization Nirvana

One of Agent X's biggest strengths is its seamless integration with various applications. From your calendar and email to cloud storage and project management tools, Agent X connects the dots, centralizing your workflow in one user-friendly interface. This eliminates the need to switch between different apps, keeping you organized and focused.

Boosting Productivity and Unlocking Potential

Since adopting Agent X, I've experienced a dramatic increase in my productivity. Tasks that once took hours can now be completed in minutes, thanks to automation and streamlined workflows. This newfound efficiency has allowed me to take on more challenging projects and achieve my goals with greater ease.

If you're looking to break free from the shackles of inefficiency, Agent X is a game-changer. Its powerful automation features, seamless integrations, and user-friendly interface can empower you to reclaim your time and unlock your full potential.

[verus-veritas]

The 4400: Being Tom Baldwin

(AI Generated - Inspired by the sci-fi TV-series “The 4400”. I remember I grew up watching the series, and developing a deep crush on the handsome actor Joel Gretsch, imagining some super powered criminal using their ability to steal his identity. This is my attempt at fulfilling that dream! Anyone else watch this TV-series back in the day? /Verus)

The year was 1998 when my life ended, or so it felt. One moment, I was a nobody, a lanky, aimless 33-year-old drifting through Seattle’s gray streets, scraping by on odd jobs, nursing a secret I barely admitted to myself: a hunger to be someone else, someone bold, someone whole. The next, I was gone, snatched by a blinding light, one of the 4400 stolen from time. When they spat us back into 2004, Seattle was a stranger, and so was I. 

We were branded “returnees,” each gifted or cursed with an ability from our unseen abductors. Some got flashy powers: telekinesis, healing, visions of the future. Mine was subtler, slipperier, a thief’s dream: body-switching. A touch, a pulse of intent, and I could slide into another’s skin, feel their pulse, and wear their flesh like a tailored suit. It was intimate, invasive, and it fed a craving I’d carried since I was a kid, staring at stronger boys in the locker room, yearning to shed my own frail shell for theirs.

The 4400 were chaos incarnate, a puzzle the government scrambled to solve. The National Threat Assessment Command (NTAC) herded us into quarantine, probing our powers, our motives. I hated it: the sterile rooms, the suspicious stares, the way they made me feel like an abomination of humanity. 

Pale, scrawny, with stringy hair and a voice that wavered, I was nothing. My life before had been a string of one-night stands with men who never called back, a closet I’d cracked open but never stepped through. I wanted permanence, an identity to claim, a life that mattered. Then I saw him: Tom Baldwin and his partner Diana, NTAC agent, striding through the quarantine’s chaos like a king commanding his court.

Tom was everything I wasn’t. Tall, lean, pushing 50 but carved from years of fieldwork, he moved with an older man’s confidence, every step deliberate. His blond hair, short and sun-kissed, caught the light, framing a square jaw dusted with stubble. His piercing blue eyes sliced through the room, missing nothing, and his suit, stretched tight over a muscled chest, hinted at the body beneath: fit, strong, a man’s man.

His gravelly voice barked orders, calming the crowd, and I was hooked. Not just desire, though that burned hot. I didn’t want to fuck him. I wanted to be him: his badge, his purpose, his life.

My obsession grew slowly, a fire stoked by stolen glimpses. I’d linger outside NTAC’s Seattle office, a ghost in the crowd, watching Tom debrief returnees with that commanding tone. On weekends, I’d trail him to the waterfront, his jogs a ritual I memorized. His sweat-soaked shirt clung to his broad shoulders, smooth chest peeking through the open collar, his lean legs pumping with effortless power. I’d camp outside his apartment, hidden in shadows, peering through blinds as he moved inside: shaving that rugged jaw, sipping whiskey in boxers, sprawling on his couch with a masculinity I could only dream of. 

Tom had it all: a badge that opened doors, a son and ex who adored him despite the divorce, a nephew, Kyle, who idolized him. Me? I was a shadow, a 4400 freak with a power that let me taste other lives but never keep them. Tom was my opposite: unshakable, authoritative, the embodiment of control. I spent months worshipping his blond, fit, older body, and I burned for it: his identity, his everything.

The first real swap was a test, a perverse rehearsal. I planned it meticulously, my heart pounding as I stood outside NTAC one gray afternoon. I’d popped a sedative earlier, not enough to knock me out, just enough to dull my senses, to make my body a trap for Tom’s mind. The pill left me woozy, my steps unsteady, but I pushed through the crowd, spotting Tom in his tailored suit, badge clipped to his belt. His blond hair glinted under the fluorescent lights, his lean frame cutting through the chaos with purpose. 

I bumped into him, feigning a stumble, my hand grazing his wrist, power surging like a live wire. The world tilted, and I was in: Tom’s body, tall and solid, a rush of heat and strength flooding me.

I blinked, settling into him. His hands, big and rough with blond hair dusting the knuckles, flexed on instinct. His suit hugged me, the fabric crisp against his lean frame, and I inhaled his scent: clean deodorant, musky armpit, pure Tom. 

I glanced back, seeing my own body, pale, scrawny, eyes glazed from the sedative, stumble. Tom, trapped in it, opened his mouth to shout, but the drug hit hard. 

“What… the hell…” he slurred, voice thin and panicked, before his knees buckled.

He crumpled to the floor, out cold, and I acted fast. Using Tom’s strength, I scooped my old body up, muttering to onlookers, “He’s one of the 4400, needs help.” No one questioned the badge, the suit, the man they saw as Tom Baldwin.

I carried him to a janitor’s closet, locking the door. My old body slumped against the wall, Tom’s mind locked in a drugged haze, and I had time, time to explore. 

I strode to a bathroom, Tom’s boots clicking, and locked myself in a stall. My hands tore at his suit, buttons popping, revealing that powerful chest I’d dreamed of. Blond dusting of hair spread across his pecs, thin and soft, trailing down to tight abs. I ran my fingers through them, slow and greedy, feeling the muscle beneath, the warmth of his skin. His armpit scent hit me, fresh yet primal, and I buried my face there, inhaling deep, dizzy with lust.

“Fuck, Tom,” I groaned, his gravelly voice echoing off the tiles.

I stepped to the sink, facing the mirror. Tom’s face stared back: blond hair mussed from my touch, blue eyes wild with my hunger, stubble glinting under the harsh light. I leaned closer, tracing his jaw, feeling the grit of his beard, my lips curling into his smirk. My hands dropped lower, unzipping his trousers, freeing his cock: heavy, thick, framed by blond curls. I gripped it, stroking slow, savoring its weight, its heat, as it swelled in my hand, my eyes locked on his reflection.

As I pumped faster, a jolt hit me, not just pleasure but something deeper. Flashes of Tom’s life erupted in my mind, vivid and unbidden. I froze, shocked, realizing the truth: the more intense the sensation in a borrowed body, like an orgasm, the more I could unlock its memories, its essence, making it easier to impersonate my host. 

My hand sped up, and the visions poured in: Tom’s NTAC training, hand-to-hand combat in a gym, his body slick with sweat; interrogating 4400 suspects, his voice sharp and commanding; his failed marriage, bitter fights with his ex, Linda, her tears as he walked away; lonely nights in his apartment, jerking off in bed, his grip tight and practiced.

I adjusted my hold on his cock, fingers shifting instinctively, mimicking that memory, and gasped. I was jerking Tom’s cock exactly as he liked it, muscle memory guiding me, the pleasure so raw, so perfect, it overwhelmed me. His life was mine to steal, piece by piece.

The intensity built, my hand a blur, visions of Tom’s solitary nights merging with my own. I saw him sprawled on his sheets, blond hair damp, his hairy chest heaving as he worked himself, and I matched it, stroking harder, my other hand clawing his thighs, pinching his nipples.

“Tom, you’re wasting your life” I moaned, his voice breaking, the pleasure too much, the memories too vivid. “but I could make you so much better!” I couldn’t hold it, my thoughts and his powerful body, a furnace of desire, and I came, a shattering climax.

Cum erupted, hot and thick, splattering the stall, and I’d moan his name, my stolen voice low and rough. I scooped it up, licking it off my fingers, tasting him: salty, sharp, mine.

I cleaned up, rebuttoned his suit, and swapped back just as my old body stirred in the closet. Tom woke confused, rubbing his head, muttering about losing time. I played the concerned returnee, and he never suspected.

That taste wasn’t enough. I needed permanence. For months, I stalked him deeper, my obsession a living thing. I’d tail him to dive bars, watching him sip beer off-duty, tie loose, shirt unbuttoned to tease that smooth chest. I’d study his routines: NTAC briefings, jogs, late nights at his apartment, planning my move. 

My own life frayed; I barely ate, barely slept, consumed by visions of Tom’s body, his badge, his life. I jerked off nightly to stolen memories of his skin, his scent, his power, but it only sharpened my hunger. I needed him forever...

—

One rainy night, I struck. Tom was at a dive bar, nursing a beer, his dress shirt open enough to show that perfect chest. I approached, playing the desperate 4400. “Agent Baldwin? Please help me! My ability’s out of control.”

His blue eyes narrowed, but he grunted, ever the hero, and offered to drive me to NTAC. In his car, I suddenly grabbed his wrist, power flaring, and instantly swapped us. My mind slammed into his body, a wave of heat and strength, while his jolted into mine, dazed and disoriented.

I blinked, adjusting to him: taller, leaner, solid. His hands gripped the wheel, big and calloused, blond hair dusting the knuckles. I flexed them, grinning at the power in every twitch.

“What the hell?” he rasped from my old body, voice weak and panicked. I glanced over, seeing my former self: pale, scrawny, forgettable, staring with Tom’s confusion. 

“Relax,” I said, his deep voice smooth, “it’s temporary.” 

A lie.

I drove to his apartment, adjusting myself constantly as an excuse to feel his muscles shift under his clothes, the shirt brushing his nipples.

Inside, I locked the door. He stumbled, demanding answers, still reeling in my old shell. I ignored him, peeling off his jacket, then his shirt, exposing the body I’d coveted for months. Broad shoulders, a powerful chest with a light dusting of blond hair, abs firm from years of work. I ran my hands over it, slow and possessive, savoring the coarse curls, the heat of his skin, the musky armpit scent rising sharp and clean.

“Stop that!” he barked, lunging at me in his stolen body. I shoved him back, his strength mine now, and pinned him to the wall, relishing the reversal.

“You don’t get it,” I growled, his voice rumbling in my throat. “Your body and life belong to me now.”

He fought, but he was weak in my old frame. I grabbed his throat, my throat now, and squeezed, Tom’s biceps flexing as his air cut off. His eyes widened, blue but trapped in my pale face, and he clawed at me, gasping, “Please…” 

He went limp, unconscious, and I tied him up with his own belt and a curtain cord, gagging him for good measure. My old body slumped, Tom’s mind locked inside, and I turned to the mirror, shedding the rest of his clothes.

Pants hit the floor, revealing Tom: naked, magnificent. Thick, hairy thighs, a heavy cock swinging between them, blond curls framing it. I gripped it, stroking slow, feeling it thicken in my hand: his hand. His scent, clean deodorant laced with musky sweat, filled my lungs, intoxicating. 

“Fuuck, Tom,” I moaned, his timbre echoing off the walls, “your body feels so good!”

I jerked harder, other hand roaming: tugging at the powerful pecs, pinching nipples, clawing at the meat of his ass. He stirred behind me, muffled groans through the gag, and I smirked, his smirk, watching him watch me defile his body. 

Cum erupted, thick spurts across his stomach, matting the blond hair. I scooped it up, licking it slow, tasting him: bitter, salty, mine.

I couldn’t keep him here. He’d ruin everything. So I acted. I dressed myself in Tom’s clothes, perfectly tailored to my body, and dragged him to his car, Tom’s strength making it easy. I drove through the night, rain lashing the windshield, crossing state lines to a corrupt rundown asylum in Idaho I’d researched. Tom woke halfway, thrashing against the bonds, screaming through the gag, but no one heard. At dawn, I pulled up, flashing Tom’s badge, my badge now. 

“Agent Tom Baldwin, NTAC,” I said, his voice calm and authoritative. “This man’s a maniac and a danger to society. He’s completely unstable and claims he’s me. I suggest you diagnose him with Dissociative Identity Disorder and lock him up for good!”

They bought it. Tom, in my old body, was dragged inside, still shouting, “I’m the real Tom Baldwin!”

The staff nodded, sedatives ready, dismissing him as delusional. I signed the papers with Tom’s signature, practiced for weeks, and left, never looking back. He’d rot there, drugged and forgotten, while I claimed his life. I drove back to Seattle, the sun rising over the Cascades, Tom’s blue eyes reflecting a world now mine.

—

Back in his apartment, my apartment, I shed his clothes, the shirt stiff with dried sweat, the suit crumpled from the long drive. I cranked the shower, steam filling the small bathroom, and stepped under the spray, hot water cascading over Tom’s body. His blond hair darkened, slick against his scalp, and I ran my hands through it, feeling the coarse strands. I lathered his smooth chest, fingers brushing the nipples, the soap suds trailing down his tight abs, his strong thighs.

I explored every inch: his broad shoulders, knotted from tension; his lean biceps, flexing as I scrubbed; his heavy cock, thickening under my touch. I lingered there, stroking slow, testing its weight, its heat, moaning softly in Tom’s gravelly voice. The shower was a baptism, washing away the last traces of my old self, sealing me in his skin.

I toweled off, droplets clinging to his powerful chest, and stood before the mirror, Tom’s reflection a vision of power: blond hair tousled, blue eyes fierce, stubble sharp against his jaw. I flexed his arms, watching the muscle shift, then lifted an arm, burying his nose in his pit, the musky scent grounding me.

Naked, I sprawled across his bed, the sheets cool against his warm skin, and surrendered to the hunger. I gripped his cock, stroking it firm, my other hand roaming: rubbing his hairy calves, squeezing his thick quads, then slipping lower. I moaned, Tom’s voice deep and raw, “Fuuuck, you’re so tight, Tom,” as I slid two fingers into his ass, the tight warmth clenching around them, a new spark of pleasure igniting.

I worked myself furiously, fingers pumping, cock throbbing under my palm, the intensity unlocking more memories, vivid as dreams. I saw Tom briefing NTAC, his voice steady as he outlined a 4400 case, agents hanging on his words; bantering with Diana in the office, her laugh warm as he teased her about her coffee; hugging Kyle tight, his nephew’s arms around his waist, a rare moment of family. 

The sensations deepened, my fingers curling inside, and another memory hit, sharp and intimate: Tom that morning, showering in this same apartment, steam thick, his hands lathering his body, then dressing in his perfect suit, adjusting the tie, inspecting himself in the mirror with a nod of approval. I saw his reflection as he did, his blond hair perfect, his blue eyes confident, his body a weapon of authority. That image, so vivid, so him, broke me.

“Oh Tom, your body is fucking perfect!” I gasped, his voice cracking, and came fiercely, a tidal wave of cum, hot and thick, splattering my chest, matting his blond hair, soaking the sheets.

I lay there, a shuddering mess, sweat drenching Tom’s body, my body now. His post-orgasm haze wrapped me in him, his musky scent heavy in the air, his memories settling into my mind like keys to a kingdom. I licked the cum from my fingers, tasting him, and knew I was ready. I’d claimed Tom Baldwin in every way, his life mine to live, his perfect body mine to wield. I drifted, sprawled on his bed, the sheets damp, feeling invincible, prepared to step into his world tomorrow.

—

The months that followed were a perverse paradise. I lived as Tom Baldwin, my new life a seamless performance. I wore his suits, his badge, his authority, striding into NTAC with his blond hair neat, his blue eyes sharp. Diana clapped my shoulder, Kyle called me “Uncle Tom,” and I owned it, his grin my mask. But the nights were where I truly reveled, exploring the power of Tom’s body and badge in ways I’d only dreamed.

One evening, I leaned into it, testing the limits of my stolen identity. NTAC’s after-hours were quiet, but a few agents lingered, drawn to Tom’s charisma like moths to a flame. I’d noticed their glances: Agent Torres, a broad-shouldered man with a sly smile, and Agent Larson, a sharp-eyed woman whose gaze lingered on Tom’s chest. I invited them for drinks at a bar near NTAC, playing the charming Tom Baldwin, my badge glinting on my belt. Torres clapped my back, his hand lingering, and Larson smirked, her fingers brushing my arm. 

“You’re different, Baldwin, but better,” she teased, and I grinned, Tom’s grin, leaning into the role.

We ended up at my apartment, Tom’s apartment, whiskey flowing, the air thick with tension. I stood, loosening my tie, unbuttoning my shirt to reveal that powerful chest, blond curls catching the dim light. Larson’s eyes widened, Torres bit his lip, and I felt Tom’s power surge through me. 

“You ever wonder what it’s like with an NTAC agent?” I asked, his gravelly voice low, teasing. 

They didn’t hesitate. Larson’s slim hands found my pecs, fingers fondling my pecs, while Torres pressed against me, his beard grazing my stubble. I guided them to the bedroom, Tom’s strength effortless as I shed my suit, badge clinking on the nightstand.

Naked, I was a god. Tom’s lean body gleamed: hairy thighs, heavy cock swinging, blond curls framing it. Torres knelt, his mouth hot and eager, taking me deep as I groaned, Tom’s voice rumbling. Larson straddled me, her nails raking my chest, and I thrust into her, relishing the heat, the control. I switched between them, fucking Torres against the headboard, his moans muffled, then Larson on her back, her gasps sharp as I pounded, Tom’s cock thick and relentless. My hands roamed: tugging my own muscular pecs, inhaling my musky armpit scent, savoring every sensation. 

Cum erupted twice that night, first in Larson’s mouth, then across Torres’s stomach, matting my blond hair as I collapsed, spent, their bodies tangled with mine. Torres left at dawn while Larson stayed for some post-sex cuddles, no questions, just satisfied smiles, and I lay in Tom’s bed, his sweat and musk all over me, knowing I’d claimed his life in every way.

—

Then came the cure. A few months later, the NTAC cracked the 4400 secret: a serum to strip our powers, restore order. Returnees lined up, eager for normalcy, but I panicked. I realized my power was my weakness; one slip, one swap, and I’d lose Tom, his body, his life. I couldn’t risk it.

Late one night, I broke into NTAC’s lab, heart pounding in Tom’s lean chest. The serum glowed blue in its vial, a faint promise of freedom or ruin. I swiped it, drove home, and drew a bath, syringe in hand. Across the room, his reflection stared back in the bathroom mirror: rugged, blond, stubble sharp, blue eyes fierce.

I jabbed the needle into his arm, plunger down, a cold rush spreading through his veins. It hit fast: a tingling wave, then a hollow ache, like a cord snapping inside. My power vanished. I reached for it, that familiar spark, but found nothing. I was locked in Tom’s flesh, no way out.

His hands flexed, permanent now, his musky scent baked into my pores. I grinned, his grin, my grin. 

“No more playing pretend,” I muttered, voice low and final. “You’re mine forever, Tom.”

I ran my hands over his smooth chest, feeling the muscle, the reality of him, and laughed: a deep, triumphant rumble. I’d given up everything, my body, my life, my powers, to become him. No longer a 4400, I was NTAC agent Tom Baldwin, hunting and investigating others like me, my days filled with purpose, my nights with the perverse joy of his skin. Tom was gone, silenced in that asylum, and I lived his life, wore his body, reveled in his everything, forever.

[sooslick]

Il Capitano X Reader

Theme: SAGAU

‹Part Two›

You woke up in the forest, which was covered with a thick layer of snow. It's strange, because you clearly remember falling asleep in your room, in your bed, under a warm blanket. So why are you now in an unknown place? Damn, if you only knew.

You were dressed in your thin night pajamas. No wonder, because you had been sleeping before. It was the last thread of common sense that you hadn't gone crazy. Taking a deep breath and thinking that it was just a dream... at least having calmed yourself down with that, you decided to take a little walk to look around the area, because everything here seemed so realistic, like you would in an anime or manga. But you quickly cursed yourself for that thought, deciding that it could end badly, and that you would say too much and it would come true.

Walking through the forest you thought that nothing could be worse, right? Haha, until you saw several figures surrounding you. Fatui agents.

"HEY! WHO ARE YOU?? AND WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?" - One of them said loudly. You silently prayed that they wouldn't consider you a threat and do anything to you. After all, there was still a part of the fact that this was not just a dream, and believe me, you definitely did not want to die here.

Suddenly, the sound of a horse's hooves was heard from behind, turning around you noticed the approach of a raven horse, on it towered the figure of the First Harbinger, Capitano.

"This is my death" - was your thought as the man looked at you with his sharp, cold gaze under the slits of his helmet. Suddenly his eyes widened. He realized who was standing in front of him. With a quick movement, he got off his horse and knelt down in front of you, lowering his head.

"Forgive us for such an attitude, Your Grace." His rough male voice rang out. He wouldn't dare look at you unless you let him. The Fatui agents were shocked and this realization came to them too. They also fell to their knees before you, cursing themselves for daring to attack their Creator.

Character.Ai bot link:

[queen-of-signs]

#2 The Astrology About Your Difficult Placements & Turning Them Into A Career Opportunity - Rx Edition

Here's Part 1

Note: This post is based on my personal observations and patterns I've noticed over the years. It's important to understand that no single placement in a chart can determine whether someone is “good” or “bad,” a success or a failure, or even something as extreme as a criminal. Astrology is complex, and the entire birth chart must be considered as a whole. What we often label as "difficult" placements can actually become powerful sources of strength if we choose to approach them with awareness, effort, and a growth mindset. These placements aren’t curses, they’re invitations to evolve. This post is based on Vedic/Sidereal Astrology.

Astrology is a lot like Google Maps, it shows you possible routes to your destination, but it’s still up to you which path to take. It can guide, not dictate. That’s why I find it disheartening when some astrologers deliver overly negative interpretations that leave people feeling helpless or afraid and making serious life decisions based on it. Every placement holds multiple possibilities, some more challenging than others. With awareness and the right mindset, even the toughest placements can become powerful tools for growth.

These placements don’t doom you, they challenge you to rise.

Saturn Rx in 10th - Had to work twice as hard as others to get half as far. You'll reach further, just not in a straight line. Unemployed or underpaid, in some cases.

On the bright side, this is a good placement to start you own damn business later in life after 27. Any business, policy making, construction, architecture, independent consulting, freelancing, etc.

Mercury Rx in 3rd - You second-guess your thoughts before they even finish forming. Social anxiety in a house that loves communication. Speech delay, in some cases.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for writing, podcasting, editing, musician, research analysis, journalist, UX design, AI expert, etc.

Saturn Rx in 4th - Not a soft childhood. Emotionally distant parent. Abandoned by their parents or grew up in foster home, in rare cases.

On the bright side, this is good placement and often creates people who build emotional homes for others like therapists, healers, realtor, real estate agent, psychologist, home renovation, child care, trauma coach, homeless shelter, etc.

Venus Rx in 2nd - Self-worth isn’t something you inherited. You had to earn it dollar by dollar, compliment by compliment.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for luxury branding business, voice acting, model scout, jewelry design, financial consultant, insurance agent, dealerships, hairstylist, dermatologist, etc.

Mars Rx in 6th - Invented burnout. Obsess about work but doesn't know how to properly channel the pace. All or nothing. OCD, in some cases. Accidental death in workplace, in very rare cases.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for crisis management, IT consultant, fitness coach, nutritionist, ENT specialist, neurologist, etc.

Mercury Rx in 8th - You read between the lines before the lines are even written. You’re suspicious of surface-level anything. Says something and does the opposite. Hides real opinions to avoid judgement or criticism and keep to self.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for filmmaking, pianist, guitarist or any musical instrument careers, jailer, UFO researcher, criminal lawyer, occultist, financial advisor, sex therapist, etc.

Saturn Rx in 7th - Dating or relationship is minimal or non-existent. Unconventional partner - smart worker, older or wiser but young at heart. Career/partnerships picks up in late-20's.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for own business, CEO/Chairman, managerial positions, divorce lawyer, govt jobs in a far away place, contractor, industrialist, brand consultant, bio-tech researcher, etc.

Jupiter Rx in 11th - Outsider among outsiders. Tough to find your "people". Changes lives behind-the-scenes. Lonely at times.

On the bright side, this is a good placement for tech startups, humanitarian work, social reform, activism, game development, digital media, advertising, astrology, etc.

Jupiter Rx in 5th - Joy is earned not given. Has to fight for personal freedom, in some cases. Luck comes later in life after 27.

On the bright side, educator, creative writer, freelancer, web or app developer, speculative writing, children's media, performance arts, YouTuber, comic artist, etc.

Wanna go deeper into the layers of your placements? DM me for a complete astrology reading or a 5 year/8 year marriage report or synastry reading🌙💬 and check out my pinned post for pricing + details 💫💸

Let’s decode your cosmic chaos together ⭐

[arlana-likes-to-write]

Numb Little Bug

Summary: Sometimes the darkness gets to much for you and your best friend is there to remind you that you aren't alone.

Warnings: depression, angst with fluff, mention of past character death, panic attack, suicidal ideation,

Relationship: Wanda x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 2.8K

You were awake before the alarm went off. The shrill sound echoed in your room at the newly built Avenger Compound. FRIDAY notified you it was time to go to training. You didn’t bother to tell the AI to silence the sound because it quieted your mind. The nagging, taunting voices that echoed in your mind daily were quiet. You found peace until… “Based on your average time to get ready, you need to get out of bed, or you will be late to your training with Miss. Maximoff.” FRIDAY turned off the alarm. Sighing, you stood up and stretched your back. You walked into your bathroom and stared at the reflection. Dark bags were underneath your eyes from the lack of sleep. You could count on one hand the hours of sleep you’ve gotten the past few days. Turning away from the mirror, you turned the shower on to the coldest temperature. You stripped off your pajamas and threw them into the growing pile of dirty clothes. Maybe you could tackle that on a different day.

The cold temperature didn’t affect you as you were used to these showers. As long as you can remember, you struggled with your depression - some days were better than others. Your parents couldn’t afford treatment, so you went the majority of your life not medicated, which was hard for you and the people around you. It wasn’t until you were a SHIELD agent you received insurance, got diagnosed, and medicated. Soon after joining SHIELD, Fury requested that you enter the Avengers. You were enhanced with the ability to manipulate sound. You fought with the Avengers when Loki invaded New York and helped Steve and Natasha uncover the truth behind the corruption of SHIELD. Somehow survived against Ultron and sided with Steve when Ross brought up the Accords and spent time imprisoned at the RAFT. You lost against Thanos and lived 5 years with guilt as you watched your family disappear. In the end, you were able to bring everyone back. On paper, you were an Avenger, a hero, but some days, you felt unworthy of those titles. Some days, the voices in your head proved to be stronger. All of your accomplishments and everything you’ve sacrificed meant nothing.

You turned off the shower and dried off. After you wrapped the towel around you, you picked up your prescription. You hadn’t felt a single thing in weeks. Have the pills done too much? You’ve barely touched your friends and family outside the Avengers. Has it been a few days? Maybe a week? Now you’re outta touch. You sighed, placed one of the white pills on your tongue, and swallowed it dry. Sometimes, the world felt too big, like a floating ball bound to break.

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“You’re late,” Wanda said as soon as you entered the training room. You gave her a shy smile.

“Overslept,” you lied to the mind reader. It was a constant game of back-and-forth with Wanda. You would lie, and she would know immediately, but she would never call you out on it. You wondered if she could see the dark thoughts that entered your mind. Could she feel the desperation that you wanted it all to stop? At this point, you were past repair.

“Alright, let’s warm up.” You were a numb little bug trying to survive.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Wanda was getting worried. Usually, when her powers evaded your mind, she would sense some hope and light. Over the past few weeks, there has been nothing but darkness. Her hands wrapped tightly around the mug with her afternoon tea. It warmed her up, pushing away the eerie dread in her bones. Summer was turning into autumn in Upstate New York. The leaves were turning to a variety of different colors. The temperature was dropping. Every time Wanda went outside, she could inhale the crisp air.

Sighing, her head fell below her shoulders. She was so worried about you. Life had not been kind to either of you. When the dust settled after the final fight against Thanos, you seemed to shrink into yourself. Wanda thought you would call it with the Avengers, but you stayed. Hell, she was wondering how much longer she had with the team. One person could only handle so much pain. Maybe she needed a vacation. “Hey, Wanda,” she looked up and saw Sam. There was a tablet in his hands. Since becoming Captain America, the man was always busy. Right now, he was looking at her with concern. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” she forced a smile. “I’m tired.” The training session was exhausting, but he wasn’t convinced. Even to her, the words seemed fake. Sam took a few steps to lean across the counter from her.

“Wanna try that again.” He smiled. Wanda huffed out a laugh.

“I-,” she looked out the window. It was strange how big this place was, and she felt trapped. “I just feel like I’m hanging on by a thread these days,” she answered honestly. Sam frowned.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Wanda sighed and set the mug down. The tea was no longer warm.

“It feels like there has been no time,” she whispered. We lost so many—Tony, Vision, Steve, Nat—but we have to keep moving forward. “She blasted a hole in the man she loved, and it meant nothing. They still lost. Natasha and Tony gave their lives for the team to rewrite the original loss. And Steve—well, at least he got his happy ending. Sam stared at her carefully before shaking his head and sighing, too.

“We have to hold space to grieve,” he said. “Or the losses become suffocating. The guilt becomes too heavy to hold.”

“Guilt?” She questioned. He gave her a pained smile.

“Guilt because you are alive and they aren’t.” Wanda had to look away from him as tears formed in the corner of her eyes. It was a constant question that plagued her. Why was it her and not her parents? Why was it her and not Pietro? Why was she cursed to live while everyone else died?

“God, this sucks.” Sam chuckled. The sound made Wanda smile and wipe away her tears.

“How about this? You need a break from all this,” Sam waved his hand around. “There is a cabin in the Adirondacks; why don’t you go there for a few days?” Wanda blinked a few times at the man.

“I can’t do that,” Sam’s face turned confused, and he asked an unspoken question: Why? “I can’t leave the team.”

“You aren’t. We have it under control, and we can’t perform at our best if we don’t take care of ourselves.” She knew it was impossible to fight him on this. Silently, Wanda agreed. “Great. I’ll send you the information,” he picked up his tablet and headed towards one of the meeting rooms. “Wanda, do me a favor,” she titled her head. “Take her with you.” Sam pointed in the direction of your room.

“Thank you, Sam.” The man waved and continued with his day. Sam was a good man, a good leader, and always tuned to the feelings of others around him. Now, all Wanda had to do was convince you to come.

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You thought you could ignore the knocking. If you lay in your bed without moving or a word, the person on the other side of the door would get the hint. You figured it was Kate or Peter trying to involve you in a prank against Bucky. That sounded exhausting. However, the knocking continued. “Come on, med (honey), I know you are in there.” You weren’t expecting Wanda. “Can I come in? Please.” To not worry your friend more, you nodded your head. FRIDAY unlocked your door, which slowly opened. The Slovakian walked over to your bed, turning on your lamp on the side table. The soft light illuminated your room. “Hi,” she smiled and sat on the bed next to you.

“Hi back,” you whispered. “What are you doing here, Wands?”

“Can I just check on my best friend?” The witch smiled as she moved to rest her back on your headboard. “I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t worry,” you smiled and rolled over on your side. “I’m not going anywhere.” You rested your head on her lap. Immediately, her hand went to your hair to play with it.

When Wanda first joined the team, everyone feared her, which was fair because of how she was introduced. She invaded all of your minds and brought forth your worst moments. But you warmed up to her quickly. You understood having a power that no one understood. So nights were spent together, watching movies and old sitcoms she loved. She came to you to grieve her brother and her mistake in Laos. You helped her understand her feelings for Vision and held her again after the battle. You watched your best friend turn to dust and lived 5 years without her.

Right now, with your head in her lap, the tension you held in your shoulders melted away. “I feel like I’m losing you,” Wanda broke the silence. You flipped onto your back to stare up at her. “And that is scaring the shit out of me.” You frowned. Her fingers traced the lines on your forehead. You grabbed onto her wrist to stop her.

“You’ve been inside my head,” it wasn’t a question but a statement.

“Not intentionally, your thoughts like to drag me in,” you weren’t upset with her. Besides, the things she would see are everything you’ve told her about. Sighing, you folded your fingers with her and rested her hand on your stomach. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life.” You answered.

“Then come away with me this weekend,” you sat up fully to look at her. “It would just be you and me in a cabin in the Adirondacks away from all this.” All of this. She meant the team, the Avengers, the weight of expectations.

“Wanda, we can’t leave the team.”

“Sam said we could. Please,” she squeezed your hand. I know you said you weren’t going anywhere, but you are slipping away from me. I can’t lose you, too.”

You were split. On one hand, you wanted to stay at the compound, sulk, and feel bad for yourself in peace. On the flip side, you hated that you were worrying Wanda—that was the last thing you wanted. Giving in, you sighed. “Fine, but on one condition,” she nodded excitedly. “You are to bring the ingredients to make chicken paprikash."

“Deal!” She hugged you tight. You couldn’t help but smile.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The cabin was nice, secluded away. It was small, with one bedroom, bathroom, basic kitchen, and living space. There was no internet, phone service, or cable TV. The only forms of entertainment were a flew Blue-Ray movies and board games. But the view was amazing. There was a wrapped-around porch that faced a mountain range and a lake.

The first day was spent relaxing, playing a board game, and Wanda filling your belly with delicious food. But when the sun went down and Wanda fell asleep next to you, the thoughts in your head were so loud. You made sure to shield them from Wanda so she could sleep. After a few failed attempts to fall asleep, you quietly got out of bed and made your way to the back porch. You grabbed a blanket to wrap around your shoulder to protect yourself from the cold. You sat on the steps and stared up at the stars. During the five years of the Blip, you barely went outside to see the stars. With half of the world’s population gone, the outside world changed. But not in the way you hopped. The waters became cleaner—the air crisper. The stars became easier to see. So why was the world healing when you weren’t? It was a constant reminder of what you lost.

Quiet footsteps walked over to you, and she sat down. You moved the blanket to cover Wanda. “Do you ever wonder why you get to live when so many people have died?” You asked. Wanda placed her head on your shoulder. You felt her warm breath as she sighed.

“All the time,” she answered. “The universe is playing a sick joke on me.” Yeah, you could relate to that. You rested your head on top of hers.

“Do you ever get a little bit tired of life? It’s like you’re not happy, but you don’t want to die. Like you’re hanging by a thread,” you were beginning to ramble, but a pressure on your chest kept you talking. You desperately needed this outlet. “Like your body in the room, but you’re not there. You have empathy inside, but you don’t care. Like you’re fresh outta love, but it’s been in the air.” You felt your breathing come in fast and shallow. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Everything felt too loud - even the silence was screaming.

“Hey, honey,” Wanda maneuvered your body to face each other. Her hands went to either side of your face. “Breathe for me. Deep breaths in and out.” Her voice sounded so far away like she was underwater. “Can you hear my voice?” You gave her a faint nod. You wanted to stay here, be present, and not float away. “Good. Let’s slow it down together. Breathe with me.” Wanda inhaled slowly, held it for four seconds, and exhaled, steady and slow. You tried to follow her, but your chest tightened halfway, and you choked on your breath.

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Try again,” Wanda paused. “Here, hold onto me.” She took your hand and placed it over her heartbeat. With your steady heartbeat underneath your hand, you began to match Wanda’s breathing. The cloud around your head began to fade.

“I’m so tired of tryin’ to care when I don’t,” you mumbled. “I’m barely staying afloat.” Wanda held you in her arms as your body shook. Her hand moved up and down your back, trying to soothe you with physical touch and encouraging words. It felt like forever, but your body gave in and slumped against her - a mixture of emotional vulnerability and the scent of her shampoo. This was where you felt the safest.

“I can’t tell you how to get through this,” Wanda admitted once your body stopped shaking. “Especially when it feels like something is trying to bring you down every day.” Her voice held such raw honesty as if she was speaking from experience. Sometimes when your own shit so fogged your brain, you forget how much your friend has suffered. She’s lost, then gained, then lost again. You pulled away slightly to look at her. There were tears in her eyes. “Sorry,” she whipped away a tear that fell. “I am not trying to make this about me.” You smiled and took her hand.

“Life hasn’t been very kind to either of us.” Wanda let out a watery laugh.

“You could say that,” you ran your thumb over the back of her hand. “Sometimes the weight of the guilt can be heavy,” she continued. “But we can’t carry it alone. Someone very important to me told me that.”

It was you. A few weeks after joining the team, she was struggling with her brother’s grief and closing herself off from the team. Natasha asked if you could reach out to her and pull her off the edge. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

“Didn’t want to bother you with my shit,” your friend glared at you. It made you feel small. “It’s hard,” you admitted. “To follow the same advice you give others. But I mean,” you let out a frustrated breath and used your free hand to run it through your hair. “I’m a fucking Avenger. I should be stronger than this.” You slammed your hand down on your thigh and looked at the mountains.

“You are human first,” Wanda squeezed your hand. “Hey, look at me.” It took you a moment to meet her gaze. “Human first, being an Avenger is way down that list.”

“Right now, I feel like a numb little bug just trying to survive.” Your simple statement made Wanda double over laughing, which made you smile.

“That makes two of us. Come on, little bug,” she stood up. “It’s time for bed.” You huffed but allowed Wanda to pull you to your feet. Your arm went around her shoulder.

“Thank you, little witch,” you said. “For everything.”

When you woke up the next morning, you still felt heavy and uneasy about your place in the world. One quiet weekend away and a heart-to-heart with your best friend wouldn’t fix all of your problems. However, you knew you weren’t alone, and Wanda would always be by your side.

[tzifron]

I’ve been rereading the late anthropologist David Graeber’s Bullshit Jobs, which persuasively makes the case that the corporate world is happy to nurture inefficient or wasteful jobs if they somehow serve the managerial class or flatter elites—while encouraging the public to harbor animosity at those who do rewarding work or work that clearly benefits society. I think we can expect AI to accelerate this phenomenon, and to help generate echelons of new dubious jobs—prompt engineers, product marketers, etc—as it erodes conditions for artists and public servants.

A common refrain about modern AI is that it was supposed to automate the dull jobs so we could all be more creative, but instead, it’s being used to automate the creative jobs. That’s a pretty good articulation of what lies at the heart of the AI jobs crisis. Take the former Duolingo worker who was laid off as part of the company’s pivot to AI.

“So much will be lost,” the writer told me. “I was a content writer, I wrote the questions that learners see in the lessons. I enjoyed being able be creative. We were encouraged to make the exercises fun.” Now, consider what it’s being replace with, per the worker:

“First, the AI output is very boring. And Duolingo was always known for being fun and quirky. Second, it absolutely makes mistakes. Even on things that you would think it could get right. The AI tools that are available for people who pay for Duolingo Max often get things wrong—they have an ‘explain my mistake’ tool that often will suggest something that’s incorrect, sometimes the robot voices are programmed to speak the wrong language.”

This is just a snapshot, too. This is happening, to varying degrees, to artists, journalists, writers, designers, coders—and soon, perhaps already, as Thompson’s story points out, it could be happening to even more jobs and lines of work.

Now, it needs to be underlined once again that generative AI is not yet the one-size-fits-all agent of job replacement its salesmen would like it to be—far from it. A recent SalesForce survey reported on by the Information show that only one-fifth of enterprise AI buyers are seeing good results, and that 61% of respondents report a disappointing return on investment for AI or even none at all.

Generative AI is still best at select tasks that do not require consistent reliability—hence its purveyors taking aim at art and creative industries. But all that’s secondary. The rise of generative AI, linked as it is with the ascent to power of the American tech oligarchy, has given rise to a jobs crisis nonetheless.

We’re left at a crossroads where we must consider nothing less than what kind of jobs we want people to be able to do, what kind of work and which institutions we think are important as a society, and what we’re willing to do to protect them—before the logic of generative AI and the jobs crisis it has begotten guts them to the bone, or devours them altogether.

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter Notes: I'm really nervous with the direction my muse has taken with this story. I hope I can pull it off. LMK what you think, please.

Previous chapter:

"Cookie!" Bucky roared as he came striding up to her office "What the Hell is this bullshit?"

Chapter 3

Warnings: Swearing, angst, Bucky's a jerk, Sharon Carter sucks

Cookie looked at Bucky with a deep exhaustion caused by researching all night and early morning briefings with the top agents to figure out what to do with Sharon while Bucky was her guard dog. Maria was ready to tear into him. Cookie cleared her throat to gain Maria's attention then made a small shake of her head to ask her to back down, Cookie knew she could handle Bucky by herself.

Maria nodded and left to sit in her office across the hall, leaving the door open just in case.

Cookie straightened her shoulders and sighed "How can I help you Sargent Barnes?"

Bucky glared at her breathing heavily "You know damn well how you can help me. Who the fuck do you think you are making accusations at Sharon like this?" He waved the report in her face until she grabbed it and tore it from his hands.

Holding the partially torn report Cookie stood up to her full height, her heels bringing her eye level with Bucky. She stared at him in his cold blue eyes to show him she wasn't intimidated by him, then walked around her desk to close the door "I don't think it's wise to leave the door open while we discuss top secret intelligence."

She returned to her chair "Please have a seat Sargent." took a deep breath and spoke calmly

"I think, no I'm damn sure I'm the lead east coast Intel analyst who was hand picked from Quantico by Nick Fury while you were still on ice with Hydra, who kept our intel operation running during the Blip while Nick Fury, Maria Hill and....hhmm, oh that's right, You, were all dust in the wind. None of my conclusions were specious and I followed the facts, without prejudice, as my job requires. This has less than nothing to do with your personal, ahem, entanglements. There's solid evidence to back up every claim."

Bucky shook his head "Bullshit. You've been acting put out since I rejected you and found a way to hurt me back. You obviously faked the proof. You better fucking retract this garbage and clear Sharon's name."

Cookie scoffed and shook her head "No Barnes. You're the one who lied to me and decided on your own to end our friendship but this has nothing to do with that." she turned away before he could respond and went into the filing cabinet behind her desk, pulling a thick folder from the top drawer then dropping it heavily on the desk.

"Here is all of the evidence that I have been compiling on the Power Broker since they showed on our radar during the Blip, and spent most of the night organizing. The pictures and the stack with a red paper clip all came in the mail from Latvia a few days ago, the envelope is attached, and was opened in front of Fury and Hill. The night before we received them I was on the phone with my top informant, the one who sent that package, who tried to tell me something about the power broker but was killed while on the phone. Before disconnecting a woman's voice told me to back off of the power broker or I'd be next." She played the recording of that call and others from the same informant.

Bucky shook his head "You've been doing this long enough, you could have made authentic looking evidence. Especially with all the AI stuff. Or had someone do it."

Cookie looked at him like he'd grown another head "Are you serious Barnes? You think I would ever intentionally risk the reputation and career that I've worked my ass off for my entire adult life, over a broken heart? You think that I would ruin someones life and risk legal repercussions on myself over a man? You know what this job means to me and what I've been through to get here."

Bucky hesitated with a pained look on his face and shook his head like he was trying to clear it. There was a voice in the back of his head, telling him this was all wrong but something made him push it down and keep going.

"Well, maybe one of your people is doing it. Are you even sure that informant is dead? Maybe the family is trying to get paid. Or the real power broker is smart enough to lead you to Sharon and you're all too willing to believe the worst because of me."

He paused for a minute "And I heard you call me a liar but I've never lied to you."

Cookie laughed "You sure about that? It's been awhile so I understand if your memory is failing. That morning? The last time you actually acknowledged me outside of work related, yeah you lied to me. Twice actually"

Bucky tried to remember back to that morning, something he tried to avoid because he knew he made one of the worst mistakes of his life. He shook his head to clear the image of her heartbroken face "Yeah I don't know what you're talking about."

Cookie scoffed "Of course you don't, I'm surprised you remembered my name when you came in here. First, you told me you weren't ready for a relationship but you jumped into one with Sharon before her car cooled down" Bucky opened his mouth to protest but she glared at him and he backed down "and second, you told me you loved me and wanted to stay friends but went to ignoring me before my tears dried."

She felt her eyes filling up and cursed "Fuck. You even started leaving the room if I was there. Do you know how it feels to have one of your so called best friends cut you out of their life like you were dog shit on their shoe?" She cleared her throat and wiped her tears.

"I would never frame someone, ever. No matter how I felt about them. Not even you."

Bucky stared at her then winced as though he was in severe pain and dropped his head into his palms before speaking again.

"Well something is going on somewhere because I know, in my gut that Sharon isn't the power broker. There's no way."

He picked his head up and looked at Cookie

"I'm not in a relationship with her, we're just friends. And I didn't lie, I was wrong. I thought I wanted to stay friends with you but I don't, I can't. You're always looking at me and making me feel guilty and I don't deserve that. Plus you've been nasty to Sharon since she got here, don't think she hasn't told me about the horrible comments you make to her."

Cookie laughed "This is the most we've spoken in months, I'm not doing anything to make you feel guilty. That's all on you. But Sharon has you all twisted around because she's the one making nasty comments to me."

Bucky bristled "I don't have anything to feel guilty for. I've done nothing wrong and Sharon wouldn't lie to me."

She shrugged "If you say so, I didn't say anything. Now I've given you the details and shown the evidence. What you do is on you."

Bucky stood up, winced again and shook his head "I don't know if you did it or someone you're working with but I do know someone is trying to frame Sharon and you're going along with it. I'll prove you're wrong, that's what I'm gonna do."

Cookie scoffed "Good luck with that, Barnes"

Bucky put his hands on her desk and leaned into her space, his voice quiet and cold "I'll prove you're doing this because of your jealousy and your job and reputation will be over."

Cookie spat at him "Go fuck yourself Barnes, if you think that poorly of me you obviously never knew me. I have never been anything less than thorough and professional. I guess I should be grateful you panicked and cut me out of your life before I let myself get too attached. Good luck with Carter and get the Hell out of my office."

She sat down and went back to the packets she was finishing.

Bucky stood and stared like he was expecting something to happen before turning around and stalking off to find Sharon.

He woke up in the dark, with Sharon curled into him and looked at his watch. 9pm? Not again, his last memory was yelling at Cookie after breakfast then finding Sharon but nothing after that. He decided he had enough and scheduled an appointment with medical in the morning to see if they could help him figure out why he kept losing time.

Cookie spent the rest of the day in more briefings with senior agents to discuss the Sharon Carter problem and how to negate it. Bucky Barnes attachment to Carter was discussed as well since he had already started causing trouble over the revelations and couldn't be trusted to do the right thing.

When she was asked why they couldn't just arrest Sharon and tranq Bucky if he caused a problem, Cookie told them about her concerns that Sharon had an ally in the intel department that needed to be weeded out before Sharon.

She was back in her office, cleaning up her desk for the day when Sharon Carter herself wandered in, sat down and waited expectantly for Cookie to speak.

"What can I do for you agent Carter? I'm a little busy."

Sharon smirked "I know what you're trying to do and I understand. You're in love with Barnes and he wants me. It sucks and I know you must be hurting but slandering me won't get him back. In fact he ran to me this morning to tell me what you were trying to do and wondering why you wanted to hurt him so bad. I told him I would work it out with you."

Her face turned nasty "So here's how this is gonna work. You are going to stop trying to smear my name and leave Barnes alone, he doesn't need or want you. Think you can handle that?"

Cookie kept her face blank. "I don't need you to tell me how to do my job, agent Carter, so get the Hell out of my office."

Sharon laughed "Don't mess with me Cookie, I'm not the girl you want to play with."

Cookie faked an exaggerated yawn "Sure Carter, I'm scared."

Sharon smirked "It doesn't matter what evidence you have, you know. Barnes won't believe you. You could record me telling you that I'm the power broker and want the Soldat to be my enforcer because that's the truth." She grinned and winked "and show it to him. He won't believe you, he's already mine." She sighed "Of course now that you're on to me I will have to adjust my plans but he will want to go with me, even beg to come to protect me from all of you.

Don't chase us little girl, you won't like what you catch."

Her grin grew to something that would rival the Joker "In fact, go ahead and show him. I know FRIDAY is recording all this so let's go and show him. I want you to see how pointless this all is so you can leave us alone."

Her face hardened "Let's go" she grabbed Cookie by her upper arm and dragged her away from her desk. Cookie tried to fight her but she wasn't great with hand to hand, give her a weapon and she might have a chance but Sharon didn't give her the opportunity to grab anything.

When they arrived at Bucky's room Sharon's face softened before Bucky answered the door.

"Hey doll, you don't have to knock just-" he stopped and frowned when he saw Cookie "What the Hell is going on, Cookie have you been harassing Sharon?"

He looked to Sharon for an explanation.

Sharon was able to squeeze a tear from her eye "I was by her office to talk to Maria and Cookie said she was watching me and knew she could prove that I'm the power broker. Listen to what she said. Friday can you play the audio from my talk in Cookies office a few minutes ago?"

"Of course agent Carter."

A recording started of Sharon and Cookies interaction in her office. Bucky started listening with a passive face but he grew angrier with everything Sharon said.

Cookie felt hopeful that he would finally see the truth about Sharon but he aimed his ire at her.

"Seriously Cookie? You just can't let it go can you? Sharon hasn't done anything except make me happy and it's killing you. Like I'm some prize to be won. I never thought you would compromise yourself like this but maybe I'll have a talk with Fury and Hill about your obsession with me."

Cookie just stared at him, trying to figure out what the Hell he was talking about. They both heard Sharon say she was the power broker but he still didn't believe it. "Are you listening to the same audio I am Barnes? She said right there shes the power broker and wants the Winter Soldier to be her enforcer."

Bucky glared at her "Jesus Cookie, that's not even close to what she said. Maybe you need to take a vacation because you're losing it."

He looked her up and down "Honestly you look like shit. When did you stop taking care of yourself? I definitely wouldn't have slept with you if you looked like this."

Sharon just stood next to Bucky grinning like a JackAss at Cookie. "I told you Cookie, he's mine so let it go."

Cookie took a breath then turned and walked away without another word. Sharon must have found some way to brainwash him again and Cookie knew there was nothing she could do right now except notify Fury and Hill that Bucky was under Sharon's control so they could work on getting him back. They scheduled a meeting for first thing the next morning at 5am.

Cookie was woken up by her phone ringing at 3am after just falling asleep. It was Sam, Bucky and Sharon were gone, Stark phones and tracking devices left sitting on the desk in his quarters.

Chapter 4

The Power Broker and The Winter Soldier, in the wind.

@erelierraceala @capswife @ozwriterchick @cjand10 @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @browneyedgrli @greatenthusiasttidalwave @hhiggs @dontworryboutitsweetheart-blog @behindmygreyeyes @pattiemac1 @calwitch @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ordelixx

[cinematiquemuse]

Meet The Thunderbolts Academy

Seven children. Superpowered. Shaped into weapons by a woman who called herself “mother.” Only six walked away.

Dead Boys Don't Stay Alive Masterlist

01. JOHN WALKER – “The U.S. Agent”

Power: Super Strength, Tactical Force Field Known for: Fallen Captain. Rage in a uniform. Grief in motion. The Role: The leader-turned-liability. Once Val’s golden boy, now a disgraced vigilante haunted by the person he loved that he couldn’t save.

02. BUCKY BARNES – “The Winter Soldier”

Power: Telekinetic Bladework. Metal Arm. Known for: Eye of the hurricane. With knives. The Role: The strategist. Silent blade in the dark. Keeps his distance, but still knows where everyone is.

03. YELENA BELOVA – “The Black Widow”

Power: Blood Mimicry & Reanimation Known for: Brash. Brutal. Protective in silence. The Role: The fighter. Mercenary. Half-co-leader, half-wrecking ball. The only one who could make Bob laugh.

04. AVA STARR – “Ghost”

Power: Time-Slip & Spatial Phasing Known for: Restless. Radiant. A flicker at memory’s edge. The Role: The genius time-fixer who never stays in one place long enough to heal.

05. ALEXEI SHOSTAKOV – “The Red Guardian”

Power: Kinetic Amplification (at the cost of his body) Known for: Broken knight. Big heart in an old shell. The Role: The dad-brother. Quiet anchor. Fading with time, but still leaves a chair for Bob.

06. ANTONIA DREYKOV – “Taskmaster”

Power: Astral Displacement Known for: Ghost. Guardian. Conscience. The Role: The silent shadow. Scarred voice. Empty halls. Leaves sticky notes behind instead of speaking.

07. BOB REYNOLDS - "The Normal One"

Power: None Known for: The soft one. The kind one. The boy who didn’t belong in a war zone. The Role: The seventh sibling. Powerless. Gentle. The one everyone tried to protect—and the one they all lost.

VALENTINA ALLEGRA DE FONTAINE

Role: Architect of pain. "Mother" in name only. Legacy: Trained them. Broke them. Buried Bob. Now she’s dead—but her rot remains.

MELINA VOSTOKOFF

Role: Robot Mom. Glitched guardian. Known for: Mechanical hands. Soft voice. Locked memories. She remembers everything. But she’s not allowed to say a word—unless the right command is spoken.

NATASHA ROMANOFF

Role: The outsider. The hunter. The truthseeker. Known for: Grief sharpened into justice.

MEL

Known for: AI System Interface. The house’s voice. The eyes behind the cameras. The last command Valentina ever trusted. The Role: The Thunderbolt Academy’s embedded digital assistant. Overseer, mission handler, surveillance hub, and emotional void.

Add yourself to my taglist! <3

[physalian]

God the struggle against AI when it’s met with “writing shouldn’t be prohibitively expensive” is such a hard argument to maintain and articulate because it opens the door to the idea that anything worth having took a lot of money to produce, and that if you have no money your work is not worth sharing. Especially in this capitalist hellscape where things are arbitrarily expensive and that if something looks expensive, it's automatically going to be thought of as better quality than something that doesn't because it didn't have the funds for that extra polish.

Writing is expensive. Indie publishing is expensive. If you're indie, you're paying a monetary cost in footing the bill all on your own. If you're trad, you're paying a time cost waiting for an agent and a book deal and you still have to market out of pocket (on top of whatever you paid out of pocket during the writing process like on beta readers or developmental editors). And if you're indie and you want to stand up to the percieved quality of trad publishing, you have to pay to make that happen. If you want to get your name out there and be in the running for any kind of bestseller list before you're 50, you need money, connections, and luck, and if you have no connections, you need your work to be the best version of itself that it can possibly be.

And to be clear: writing is expensive and the act of creation shouldn't be held in a chokehold by the rich powers that be. That does not mean that dialing up ChatGPT to write a bestseller for you is the solution here.

Somebody sent me this audiobook AI voice generator and I can’t read audio books, for the same reason I hate talking on the phone. Not being able to multitask while being understimulated is a recipe for immediate frustration and gaps in attention where I’m constantly rewinding.

So I have very little experience with them and how they’re produced and the costs associated. And it is so, so tempting to be like “fuck it, why should I pay to produce this in an audio format? It’s still all my work, nothing is being generated except a voice reading my words”. Taking the high road feels like being stubborn for the sake of being stubborn. I’d only make one so that my work is accessible to those who need them. Pirate it, I don’t care, if it means you’d engage with my work when you otherwise couldn’t, I'm very aware that I will never be able to live off being a writer.

I'd make it so that it's accessible to my audience, not so that it's more accessible for me. That I can't read audio books does not mean that I’d half-ass it in its production.

What I wanted was something like an audio drama, some day if/when I have the money to produce it. Hiring voice actors to fit my diverse cast. But then with that demands me actually having to listen to my work being read back to me by real people so they get the pronunciation and inflections correct and I cannot, under any circumstances, tolerate my work being read back to me. It’s like nails on a chalkboard, I absolutely hate it.

People try to give me verbal feedback on specific lines, even if it’s praise, and I have to leave the room and tell them to write whatever it is down so I can read it. Rip my book apart over text and I can take it like a champ. Verbally tell me you really really liked this single line and I want to throw the book at you so you shush. Neither could you pay me to sit in front of an audience or a camera and either read my book or verbally discuss excerpts from it.

So even if bootstrapping this isn’t expensive, being forced to listen to hours upon hours of my book(s) being read back to me, I’d never, ever get it done. A robot that can’t judge me for it might make it a little less awful and it sure would be faster with less complications around searching, casting, scheduling, retakes, etc.

Just the idea of rejecting something that exists to lower the barrier to entry in this specific case out of pride feels like I’m the one losing here meanwhile authors who do not care are getting theirs on the market without any qualms. Even with the argument of "if a human didn't create why should I, a human, buy it?" feels nebulous here because I did create it, this is just a different format.

An audio book for my work will never exist without a program like this. Not generating text. Not generating cover art. Not generating any new ideas. Just a fancy text-to-speech software. There’s gotta be a line between virtue signaling like pissy vegans dying on a hill of misinformation and trying to use these things that are meant to be tools, not just slapping ‘ai bad’ in nuance-less absolutes onto it. I feel like the fuckin’ Onceler asking “How bad can it be?”

[precallai]

The Role of Artificial Intelligence in Call Centers: Advantages, Challenges, and Innovations

Introduction

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is transforming the call center industry by automating customer interactions, streamlining workflows, and improving service quality. AI-driven technologies, such as virtual assistants, speech analytics, and predictive insights, enhance operational efficiency and customer satisfaction. However, integrating AI into call centers comes with challenges that need strategic solutions. This article explores the key benefits, challenges, and emerging innovations in AI-powered call centers.

Key Advantages of AI in Call Centers

1. Enhanced Customer Support

AI chatbots and virtual assistants provide instant responses, reducing customer wait times and ensuring round-the-clock availability. Natural Language Processing (NLP) enables these systems to interpret and respond to inquiries with human-like accuracy.

2. Boosted Agent Efficiency

AI supports call center agents by automating routine tasks, suggesting relevant responses, and summarizing interactions in real time. This allows human agents to focus on more complex and high-value conversations.

3. Smart Call Routing

AI-powered systems analyze customer history, sentiment, and query type to route calls to the most suitable agent, reducing resolution times and enhancing first-call resolution rates.

4. Predictive Analytics for Proactive Engagement

AI analyzes customer data to forecast behavior, identify potential churn risks, and suggest tailored solutions. This proactive approach helps businesses retain customers and improve satisfaction.

5. Cost Efficiency and Scalability

By automating a significant portion of customer interactions, AI-driven call centers reduce operational costs. AI also enables businesses to scale support operations efficiently without a proportional increase in staff.

Challenges of AI Integration in Call Centers

1. Handling Complex Queries

While AI is effective for routine inquiries, complex or emotionally sensitive issues often require human intervention. Balancing AI automation with human support is essential for optimal service.

2. Data Security and Privacy Compliance

Call centers manage sensitive customer information, making compliance with regulations such as GDPR and CCPA critical. AI systems must include strong security protocols to safeguard data.

3. Legacy System Integration

Many call centers operate on outdated infrastructure, which may not be fully compatible with modern AI solutions. Upgrading or implementing middleware can be costly and time-consuming.

4. Customer Trust and AI Acceptance

Some customers prefer human support over AI-driven interactions. Ensuring that AI systems provide accurate, empathetic, and context-aware responses while allowing seamless handoffs to human agents is crucial.

5. Mitigating AI Bias

AI models can inherit biases from training data, leading to inaccurate or unfair responses. Continuous monitoring and refining of AI algorithms are necessary to ensure unbiased and equitable customer service.

Cutting-Edge Innovations in AI Call Centers

1. Real-Time Sentiment Analysis

AI-driven sentiment analysis detects customer emotions in real time, enabling agents to adjust their approach and prioritize urgent cases accordingly.

2. Voice Biometrics for Secure Authentication

AI-powered voice recognition verifies customer identities using unique vocal patterns, reducing reliance on passwords and enhancing security.

3. AI-Enhanced Speech Analytics

Speech analytics tools analyze call interactions to uncover customer trends, identify compliance gaps, and suggest service improvements.

4. Hyper-Personalized Customer Interactions

AI-driven CRM systems leverage customer behavior and history to offer personalized recommendations, promotions, and support solutions.

5. AI-Powered Multilingual Support

Real-time language translation powered by AI enables call centers to serve global customers seamlessly, eliminating language barriers.

Conclusion

AI is redefining call center operations by improving efficiency, personalizing customer interactions, and reducing costs. However, successful AI adoption requires addressing challenges related to security, integration, and customer trust. As AI technology advances, businesses that strategically implement AI-powered solutions will gain a competitive edge in delivering exceptional customer service

[mariacallous]

Last week OpenAI revealed a new conversational interface for ChatGPT with an expressive, synthetic voice strikingly similar to that of the AI assistant played by Scarlett Johansson in the sci-fi movie Her—only to suddenly disable the new voice over the weekend.

On Monday, Johansson issued a statement claiming to have forced that reversal, after her lawyers demanded OpenAI clarify how the new voice was created.

Johansson’s statement, relayed to WIRED by her publicist, claims that OpenAI CEO Sam Altman asked her last September to provide ChatGPT’s new voice but that she declined. She describes being astounded to see the company demo a new voice for ChatGPT last week that sounded like her anyway.

“When I heard the release demo I was shocked, angered, and in disbelief that Mr. Altman would pursue a voice that sounded so eerily similar to mine that my closest friends and news outlets could not tell the difference,” the statement reads. It notes that Altman appeared to encourage the world to connect the demo with Johansson’s performance by tweeting out “her,” in reference to the movie, on May 13.

Johansson’s statement says her agent was contacted by Altman two days before last week’s demo asking that she reconsider her decision not to work with OpenAI. After seeing the demo, she says she hired legal counsel to write to OpenAI asking for details of how it made the new voice.

The statement claims that this led to OpenAI’s announcement Sunday in a post on X that it had decided to “pause the use of Sky,” the company’s name for the synthetic voice. The company also posted a blog post outlining the process used to create the voice. “Sky’s voice is not an imitation of Scarlett Johansson but belongs to a different professional actress using her own natural speaking voice,” the post said.

Sky is one of several synthetic voices that OpenAI gave ChatGPT last September, but at last week’s event it displayed a much more lifelike intonation with emotional cues. The demo saw a version of ChatGPT powered by a new AI model called GPT-4o appear to flirt with an OpenAI engineer in a way that many viewers found reminiscent of Johansson’s performance in Her.

“The voice of Sky is not Scarlett Johansson's, and it was never intended to resemble hers,” Sam Altman said in a statement provided by OpenAI. He claimed the voice actor behind Sky's voice was hired before the company contact Johannsson. “Out of respect for Ms. Johansson, we have paused using Sky’s voice in our products. We are sorry to Ms. Johansson that we didn’t communicate better.”

The conflict with Johansson adds to OpenAI’s existing battles with artists, writers, and other creatives. The company is already defending a number of lawsuits alleging it inappropriately used copyrighted content to train its algorithms, including suits from The New York Times and authors including George R.R. Martin.

Generative AI has made it much easier to create realistic synthetic voices, creating new opportunities and threats. In January, voters in New Hampshire were bombarded with robocalls featuring a deepfaked voice message from Joe Biden. In March, OpenAI said that it had developed a technology that could clone someone’s voice from a 15-second clip, but the company said it would not release the technology because of how it might be misused.

[modpix-blog]

Average sploon main plot: ok random kid off the Streets. You're gonna save the great zapfish with the power of song and have a great time!!

Average sploon dlc plot: AGENT 8 WAKE UP YOU FUCKED UP BIG TIME GO KILL A ZOMBIFYING AI WITH THE POWER OF THESE LESBIANS HACKING SKILLZ + VOICE THAT SHOULD BE CONSIDERED A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION

[owl-with-a-pen]

From the second Brainy had turned up to the DEO that morning, he’d been in one hell of a bad mood. Confrontational didn’t even cut it – to Alex, it was like he was on a goddamn war path.

It had started out tame enough, maybe that was why she’d let it get as far as it had, but as well trained as her agents were against interrogation scenarios or an alien threat, no one was invulnerable to the inescapable pain of workplace microaggressions. Brainy had been subject to them himself in the past, but today he was the all-out perpetrator. It seemed he had something negative to say about everyone; mostly degrading remarks on their various intellects, going as far in some cases to mark them out on a scale from one to one-point-three. That was hardly news to Alex, although she hadn’t seen this kind of behaviour out of him in a very long time.

It had all come to a head not even a couple hours into Brainy’s shift. All it had taken was one too many poorly veiled insults targeted at one of her newer agents. By then, Alex could tell the difference between Brainy’s unintentional habit of being improperly blunt and whatever the hell he was seeking to achieve here.

It wasn’t like Brainy to act so purposely cruel, even on some of his darker days. He’d often experienced difficulties navigating his own intellect against his regular-minded co-workers, especially since the inhibitors had come off, but he’d never been openly hostile to them. Not like this. This was something else, like he was itching for a fight.

He got his wish when his goading finally hit the mark and the new hire stood from his chair. Alex knew the signs, but when their bickering exploded into a full-on argument, her voice was lost beyond the commotion.

Things escalated far too quickly, and she was much too late to stop the first punch from being thrown. Expectedly, Brainy dodged expertly out of the way, but the fire in his eyes was unmistakeably one of challenge, enough that Alex realised he had absolutely no intention of sticking to his usual evasive manoeuvres.

Shit. He wasn’t on the defence at all. And, when Brainy stepped into the agent’s space, ring-hand closed into a tight fist, she knew she couldn’t let it get any further.

Before Brainy could make his move, Alex shot into the fray, grabbing for his shoulder. The second she touched him, he tensed all over. Alex could feel the muscles in Brainy’s arm grow taut beneath her fingers, a strength building inside of him that scared her more than she would have ever admitted.

Kara’s powers had been a part of her life for so long that Alex often believed herself immune to the kind of fear seeing that sort of raw ability might inspire. Brainy wasn’t on a Kryptonian’s level by any means, but there was something unnerving about his strength that didn’t hit quite like Kara’s. It was a quiet sort of power, one he mostly kept hidden. A formidable ability that crept like a sleeper cell inside his implants and every shred of data that he had stored within his AI core.

She could feel all that and more brewing inside of him now, and when Alex tried to pull him back, he didn’t budge. She might as well have been trying to move a ten-ton statue.

Despite the panic pounding in her chest, Alex kept her cool. She waited a beat, measuring her movements, before trying again. This time, thankfully, Brainy relented. Although his body was still coiled tight, he let himself move with her momentum, stumbling a half step towards her.

Alex disguised her relief with anger, hissing into Brainy’s ear, “What the hell has gotten into you today?”

Brainy rolled his shoulder easily from her grip, righting himself in the process. “I’m fine,” he muttered tersely, his voice so rigid that she could barely see his jaw move.

Alex eyed him sharply. “I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, before raising her voice so that everyone could hear, “Agent Dox, with me!”

Any agent caught gawking at the scene quickly turned back to their work. Alex dismissed the string of apologies coming from her new hire, instead instructing him to cool off before returning to duty.

A senior agent like Brainy wouldn’t be getting off quite as lightly.

As Alex marched Brainy down the corridors of the new DEO building, she could feel him crackling at her heel like a storm cloud ready to strike. She bristled, preparing herself for the worst at every turn.

“Where are we going?” Brainy asked instead, his tone indifferent. As though he hadn’t tried to incite a war at 9 in the freaking morning.

“Somewhere private,” Alex returned, pushing open the door to one of the medical science labs. Today was her lucky day, it seemed, because the room was totally deserted.

She ushered Brainy in behind her before he could argue, directing him to the closest chair. He followed her instructions begrudgingly, taking the chair and swivelling it backwards before collapsing into it, folding his arms across the backrest with a scowl.

Now they were alone, Alex allowed herself to relax just a little, shedding some of the status that came with her rank. Her team had always been like a family to her, but Brainy was family, and now that she had him in a controlled environment, she could see his anger for what it really was. A tumultuous cover-up that was starting to crumble from the moment he’d sat down.

His frustration was plain in his body language, the way he wrung out his ring finger with his other hand like it was his only lifeline. She’d seen this behaviour before; it wasn’t hard to guess where it had come from. The why, though? That was a lot harder to pinpoint.

“What’s going on, Brainy?” Alex asked gently, folding her arms. When he glanced at the floor, twisting his ring even harder, she sighed. “You know you can’t just explode on your co-workers like that. I really thought we were past this.”

Brainy ruffled in affront, his mood souring even further. He glared up at her. “Past this?”

“You know what I mean,” Alex snapped, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. “The point is, I haven’t seen you this riled up since—well, since ever. Something’s going on with you.” She narrowed her eyes, pressing her hip against the workbench at her side. “How have your talks with Kelly been going?”

Brainy leaned back in his chair, folding his hands across one another with a definitively neutral expression. “Confidentially.”

Alex could already feel her jaw begin to tense. It was times like these she really wished Kelly wasn’t so damn good at her job. She took her clients’ privacy incredibly seriously, even when it came to her friends. Especially when it came to her friends. Even as her wife, Alex was none the wiser on what she and Brainy discussed behind closed doors, other than the few small updates like he did well this session or I think we went back more steps than we took forward today.

“Alright,” Alex decided, lifting her chin. “We’ll do this the hard way, then. Stand up. I need to perform a full body scan.”

Brainy’s mouth fell open in outrage. He scoffed indignantly. “I’m fine,” he repeated through clenched teeth, an air of superiority creeping into his voice. He held his shoulders high. “Do you really think I wouldn’t be aware if something was impairing me?”

“Stand up,” Alex repeated. “Now.”

Brainy rolled his eyes but stood on her instruction. He remained still while Alex ran her equipment over him; too still, she thought. Whatever he was trying to hide from her was starting to surface, they both knew it.   

Alex’s worry only grew stronger for him.

Once the tests were done, Alex watched the results roll through on her tablet. His temperature was fine – his implants checked out, too. In fact, according to her equipment, nothing was running abnormally where the techno aspect of his physiology was concerned at all.

When her focus shifted to organic functions, however, Alex’s eyes widened in surprise.

Brainy’s heart rate wasn’t just through the roof, it might as well have been hanging out in another galaxy.

Alex hefted the tablet in her arm, throwing it out for Brainy to see. “You call this fine?”

Brainy scanned the results, shying in on himself defensively as he absorbed their meaning. He shrugged, folding his arms. “Kelly tells me that fluctuations in heart rate are normal for the emotional stressors I have experienced.”

“Well, yeah,” Alex nearly laughed, “but not all the time, Brainy! Something triggered this.”

When he refused to meet her eye, Alex bit her lip, carefully placing the tablet back on the counter. “Brainy,” she tried again, hesitating before taking a step closer. “Paired with what I know about your biology, this has all the tells of an anxiety attack.” She smiled sadly. “I don’t need to be a therapist to know that’s why you lashed out today.”

Brainy scoffed again, but his fingers tightened around his biceps. Alex had a feeling that if he’d been squeezing anything else in the room, it might’ve just snapped in half.

She scanned his face again. He didn’t wear his image inducer as often since the installation of the new DEO, but Alex wondered if he sometimes used it covertly to alter certain smaller features. Like the tell-tale bruising of someone who’d been avoiding their bed one too many nights in a row.

She frowned. “Have you been sleeping?”

Brainy froze. “O-of course.”

For a twelfth-level intellect, his lying game was about on par with Kara’s. Alex tried not to smile at his expense. Instead, she not-so innocently tugged at her jacket pocket. “So, if I texted Nia right now, she’d tell me the same thing?”

“It’s not that,” Brainy hastened, straightening his back. “My functions are running within normal parameters; my sleep is… is fine. Nia would corroborate.”

“Right,” Alex said slowly, raising a brow. “So, just today, then?”

“Why is this so important to you?” Brainy muttered. He was clearly tiring of their little back and forth. Maybe that was her way in.

Alex took another step forward. “Because you’re important to me,” she said, before glancing at the ceiling, “and because you’ve kind of pissed everyone on the day shift off so far. And it’s not even ten o’clock. That might be a new record.” She took his arm again, smiling when he reluctantly met her eye. “This matters, Brainy. I can’t put you back on duty like this. In fact, I think I have enough justification from these readings alone to put you on a mental health day. Even if your sleep is fine, it might be a good idea to take it easy.”

Brainy practically baulked at the suggestion, staggering out from under her hand. He shook his head vigorously, turning away. “Alex, that isn’t necessary. I don’t need to take it easy. I-I can’t.”

His voice nearly broke on that last word, enough to make Alex’s heart twist. “Why not?”

Brainy ducked away from her, and though she could only see half of his face, she knew he was trying to shut her out. She reached for him again, catching his elbow. “Brainy—hey, please.”

Maybe she’d broken through, or maybe he’d run the calculations on the likelihood of being let out of this room without telling her something. Either way, he finally relented.

“I can’t take it easy,” he told her through his teeth, his voice dangerously low. “Because… because, today is difficult for me.”

Alex’s brows knitted together worriedly. She squeezed his arm without thinking, trying instead to remember what day it was today. Had she missed some kind of anniversary? Naturally, she thought of the first day Brainy had arrived in this century, but that date had been and gone with nothing close to this sort of an emotional upheaval.  

Worse, then.

Then, Alex caught it. Brainy’s free arm shifted as his hand passed across his forehead, knocking a few blond strands away from his eyes. His fingers lingered for just a second, agitating across invisible surface scars.

Alex’s heart plummeted into her stomach. She felt nauseous. “Brainy,” she asked slowly. “Is—is today the day your father…?”

Brainy’s eyes were far away, reviewing the lab’s floor tile by tile. He didn’t say anything for a while; his chest was locked tight, as though he’d forgone the need for oxygen at all. Alex held her breath along with him, long enough that her lungs started to burn.

“Time,” Brainy muttered eventually, “dates… they’re all different on this planet, in this century.” He bared his teeth into a pained smile, his arm winding around his centre. “And yet, no matter what changes, I always know that day. I can feel it.” He shrugged, biting the inside of his cheek. “Call it a burden of a Coluan’s physiology.”

Alex squeezed him again. “Oh—Brainy…”

“Don’t,” he said tersely, wrenching his arm from hers. His eyes were wide, his expression open. “Don’t treat me like I’m… wounded. I—I only wish to keep my mind busy. And-and ever since my inhibitors came off I-I find that there’s never enough to occupy it. There are always spaces that are left empty, where-where those memories, those emotions resurface.”

Alex sighed. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but that’s exactly why I can’t let you work today. You understand that, right?”

Brainy gritted his teeth, lowering his head into a tight nod.

“Have you told Nia about this?”

“She knows,” Brainy croaked, looking sheepish. “I told her I-I needed space.”

“And then you came here.” Alex’s smile felt strained. “She doesn’t know you went to work today, does she?”

“I thought it would be easier.” Brainy sniffed, swiping at his face. “To be somewhere that no one knew. But that doesn’t matter if I can’t control this—”

“Hey,” Alex said gently, taking his hand. “Anniversaries can be tough. You know, when we were kids, Kara could never stomach her Earth birthday, either.”

Brainy’s breath stuttered past his lips, and he looked at her in confusion, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. His hand clenched uneasily around hers, willing her to continue.

Alex smiled. “She hated it, actually – her words, not mine - because it reminded her of everything she’d lost. My mom… she tried to turn it into a sort of celebration, to make it a happy day, but focusing on it in any way just sent her over the edge.” She winced. “You should’ve heard the screaming matches.”

Brainy huffed out a surprised laugh.

Alex grinned. “So, one day, I told Kara, suck it up for a second, you’re coming with me. And…” she chuckled, the memory flooding back all too easily, “I made her walk. For hours. Through the woods. No flying allowed. And we kept going and going until eventually, we came across this little creek. I told her to listen to the water. Just— put every one of her senses into that one thing. The bubbling of the water, the fish whipping their little tails, the smell. It wasn’t a magic cure-all, but for that moment, it helped.” Alex wound her hand tighter around Brainy’s, drawing them closer together. “You don’t have to put your focus into work, Brainy, you can pick something simpler. One sound, or one thing that makes you feel at peace.”

Brainy narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “Yes…” he considered slowly, “that does sound pleasant.” He cleared his throat, shifting his tone. “Running water is one of numerous nature-specific sounds that are utilised for relaxation of the human mind. Nia has several of the ocean’s waves on her white noise app, although, I had never considered using it myself.” The furrow to his brow deepened. “But if I were to draw all of my processing power into one singular stimulus, it may be… beneficial.”

“What were you thinking?” Alex prompted.

Brainy glanced at her quickly before looking away again, a private smile twitching the corners of his mouth. “Flying… often clears my head. Perhaps I should try to find something up there. Above the noise, as Kara once put it.”

Alex nodded her encouragement. “That sounds like a really good place to start.”

Brainy returned her nod confidently, letting go of her hand as he made to leave. No hesitation, no debate. Just one direct thought leading onto the next action. Alex couldn’t help but smile.

Before he could make it out the door, she called out to him: “And, Brainy?”

Brainy paused, turning back to look at her.

“Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Something passed through Brainy’s expression before he lowered his head into a dutiful nod.

Fondly, Alex watched him go. He was certainly less tightly wound than he’d been before, though she knew he still had a way to go yet. At least this was a step in the right direction.

She supposed, in quite the literal sense, it was only up from here.

[beardedmrbean]

If you believe the viral videos online, R. Kelly and Pope Leo XIV agree on one thing -- that Burkina Faso's junta chief, Captain Ibrahim Traore, is a fantastic leader.

The images are AI-generated propaganda, part of what experts have called a vast disinformation campaign spreading the "personality cult" of the west African country's strongman.

Beyonce and Justin Bieber are among the other celebrities to have their faces and voices altered through artificial intelligence to shower praise on Traore.

In one video, attributed to disgraced R&B star R. Kelly, the lyrics praise Traore, who seized power in a 2022 coup: "for the love of his people, he risked it all... bullets fly but he don't fall... he's fighting for peace in his motherland."

Kelly is serving a 30-year-prison sentence in the United States for crimes including the sex trafficking of minors, yet the song generated by artificial intelligence has been viewed more than two million times since it came out in May.

The images have been widely shared on west African social media.

It follows a wave of coups not only in Burkina Faso but also in Mali, Niger and Guinea, while the region is further destabilised by jihadist attacks.

"These are influence and disinformation campaigns aimed at extending the personality cult surrounding Captain Traore to Burkina Faso's English-speaking neighbours," said an American researcher who spoke on condition of anonymity.

- Restoring control -

After seizing power in a coup in September 2022, Traore pledged to quickly restore control in Burkina Faso, which has been plagued by violence from jihadists affiliated with Al-Qaeda and the Islamic State.

Three years later, jihadist attacks have continued, causing thousands more deaths, and have even intensified in recent months.

Several officers accused of attempting to stage a coup have been arrested and comments attributed to then head of US Africa Command General Michael Langley, accusing Traore of using the country's gold reserves for personal protection, sparked anger and protests.

Around that time, a series of videos exalting Traore started mushrooming on social media.

"Information manipulation has become a lever for retaining power and legitimising the junta's presence," said a Burkinabe specialist in strategic communication, who asked to remain anonymous for safety reasons.

- 'Digital army' -

Viral campaigns mixing propaganda and AI-generated content have been shared by activists and English-speaking influencers, notably to denounce Langley and glorify Traore.

While some are riding the wave for their own financial gain, others are working for the junta's cyber propaganda entity called Rapid Communication Intervention Battalions (BIR-C), the Burkinabe source said.

"They truly operate like a digital army," the source said, adding it was led by US-based activist Ibrahima Maiga, ruling out any "direct links with foreign Russian influence."

But the group's anti-imperialist narrative, "presenting Captain Traore as the one who will save Burkina and Africa from Western neocolonialism... suits Russia, which amplifies it in turn," the source said.

- Russian connections -

But the American researcher noted "some reports have established Russian connections in the recent surge of these disinformation operations", particularly in campaigns targeting Ghana and Nigeria.

"Destabilising the Nigerian government would have significant regional effects," he warned.

Nigerian journalist Philip Obaji, who specialises in Russian influence operations, agreed, adding that "media in Burkina and Togo have accepted money from agents linked to Russia to relay these campaigns".

Meanwhile, Burkina's junta has expelled international press that had been working in the country, while local outlets self-censor in fear of arrest and deployment to the front lines against jihadists -- already a fate for some journalists.

While the Burkinabe diaspora has attempted to fight back against the pro-junta narrative, including promoting jihadists' attack claims, commenting on or sharing posts is considered glorifying terrorism, punishable by one to five years imprisonment.