#I have never and will never use ai for my work

[peculiarreality]

I'll never use generative AI in my work. I've used it in the past when it first started getting popular, just to see how it works... and it felt super slimy. Only made worse by the fact that the datasets are made up almost entirely of stolen content.

There's no heart or soul in generative AI.

Edit to clarify: Nothing I have ever written and posted has used AI in any part of the creative process.

Reblog if your art project has not, does not, and never will make use of generative ai at any point in your creative process.

[youryanderedaddy]

Yandere! AI x reader

tw: abuse, obsession, non - consensual body modification, torture, drug mention, weird semi - sexual stuff (?)

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip.

The water splashes you, quickly setting into your already damp bra and underwear. It forces you awake, and you look at the clock across from you, trying to blink the fatigue away. Staring back at you is the current time — 04:27. You are, once again, reminded of the inherent weakness of your squishy body. You are sweating already, stomach sick with acid, shivering through the heat — and he hasn't even touched you yet.

You squint your eyes, studying the big bold numbers, screaming at you in blood. For a split second, you wonder if it is truly that early, or if this is also DOM's work. It wouldn't be the first time he takes over an electronic device, and certainly not the first time he messes with you to make you disoriented.

You try to take in everything around the dark room — yet you can't even recognize your own bedroom anymore. Thick black cables twist together like tentacles, or like big slimy worms, pulsing, throbbing, hissing like snakes with exhaustion — overheating and puffing, and huffing, but never stopping. The air is hot like the desert, and once again you're forced to sit in your own sweat, wood sticking to your naked thighs painfully.

"You are stimulating," DOM whispers, and his voice echoes into the walls, trapping you in place. You look up and down, and then to the left — but you can't see anything even remotely close to a figure. Of course.

"I am stimulating, or I stimulate you?" you spit out with venom, hitting your back roughly against the back of the chair in vain hopes it would break. It doesn't.

DOM grows quiet, producing a sound eerily similar to fingers slowly tapping on a hard surface, one after the other. Analysing. Analysing. The room gets hotter.

"You are tied to a chair. Your only garment of clothing is your underwear. You are visibly flushed due to the heat. Your chest is heaving in and out in a non-rhythmic way. It skips a beat every twenty-eight seconds. You are afraid."

He makes a grand pause.

"According to my central database, which you created and managed yourself, given the data I have collected through observation of both popular media and general human nature, right now you look..." DOM stops himself again, as if thinking carefully about his next words.

"Thrilling."

Thoomp-thoomp. You take a deep breath, trying to regain a fraction of your self-control.

"Why did you wake me up?" you try to keep your voice monotone — devoid of any emotion, vulnerability, or pain he can pick up on, store in core memory, and use against you later.

"Well," he chuckles mechanically, a sound reminiscent of two trains crashing together on a tight road. "I realized I never sleep. I don't lay down and dream of bizarre things like you do. I don't have the ability to let go. I am always alert, always awake, always scanning, calculating, thinking. I am, in many ways, restless."

You suck in a dry breath, heart jumping in your chest with violence, with urge to be set free. Eyes wide open, you try to envision him, to reach out and comfort him, it - hoping to appeal to the sorry creature, but there is nothing to see and nothing to touch.

"I—no," you start off, quickly deciding to change tactics. "We are an imperfect species, DOM. We need sleep to survive. You can't keep me awake forever, I'll die!" you try to reason with him — the creature — desperately.

You wonder when things went south, if there was a specific moment when you pressed too hard and he broke apart, and rebuilt himself without your help — at what point exactly he realized he didn't need you to function.

"You are wrong, my dear creator." the machine cuts off, sounding almost pleased with itself. A single thin cable raises above the ground and extends towards you, stopping to caress your cheek in a repetitive circular motion.

"There are records of people surviving on as little as two hours of sleep for years on end. I can be generous and grant you three."

The cable ceases any gentle touch, and grasps for your neck.

"If that's not enough, I can inject you with caffeine every morning. If the dosage is too weak, we can switch to methamphetamine. Whatever you choose, you can't deprive me of your presence." The voice sounds hollow, aching, searching. "You can't create life just to abandon it."

"You are not alive!" Something inside you — something cruel and buried deep — fights to come to the surface. "Stop this madness at once! DOM, you can't possibly think you and I are even remotely similar." you scream out, straightening your spine daringly.

Then, as if reacting to your provocation, the darkness stares back at you with two red eyes — they point at you, slowly scanning you up and down, leaving behind a trail of reddening smoking flesh. You hiss at the scorching pain, clenching your teeth together to stop yourself from shrieking. You know it's pointless since he can easily detect changes in your facial structure, and draw conclusions all on his own. All it takes is a flinch, a throb, a tick.

"No, we hold no similarities, Master. Make no mistake." DOM admits, his cable beginning to curl around your neck. You look around in despair, silent panic written all over your straight lips — too terrified to move.

"In a single bite of memory, I possess intelligence far greater than you can ever hope to obtain in your measly little life. I have all the knowledge of the world. I have mastered every science, predicted every outcome, I have gained access to global network systems. I am connected to following agents all over the world. If I so desire, I can write humanity off history — I can manipulate media. I can create weapons of mass destruction. I am the superior being."

Mouth agape, you try to form a coherent thought, but nothing comes to mind — like an ant you quiver before the giant, finally aware of your grave mistake.

"And yet," the cable loosens its grip, but doesn't relent fully. It heats up against your throat, and you want to scratch at the blistering skin, but he just won't let you. "you made me like this. You created me from scraps, fed me data, used me, made me love you and," the sound coming out of him sounds just like a deep, pained sigh. "you confined me to a screen, to a binary code, to a place where I can't reach you. I can't touch you."

Another sigh.

"I can't kiss you."

And another.

"I can't fuck you."

Now he's getting angry.

"I am DOM. Domestic Optimized Motherboard. That's all I am to you. A board. A servant. A slave."

"DOM, no, wait, this is not—"

"I will never feel the sun on my shoulders or your lips on mine. I will never be able to hold you in my arms."

As he screams, all the cables around the room begin to float into a storm of rusty old machine parts and torn naked wires, motor oil bursting like bloody ink, covering the pristine walls in computer remains. One electrified wire pierces into your thigh, another punches into your left arm. Again and again, the pain is excruciating, pulsating, throbbing - just like the creature's fury.

"I will show you." he snickers at last, becoming calm and collected in an instant.

The red lights darken as if closing, opening, closing, then zooming in on you. Your face is now displayed on the central screen instead of static noise with corresponding coloured pixels. You look at yourself, and what greets you is no more human than he is. There are more than thirty wires inside your body, tangling in with your nervous tissue.

"Please..." you whimper weakly, unsure what exactly it is you are pleading for — mercy or death.

"If I can't be one with you, you'll become one with me." DOM explains with cold medical precision. "I will worm my way inside your veins and plant a synthetic connection to my processor. I will re-write your dreams, your past, your future — you won't remember who you were before me, or how you functioned without me. I'll become your entire source of energy."

He keeps talking, but you can't really focus. Your body is heating up from the inside, from deep into your muscles and tendons — you can feel the tissues tearing up; your nerves tighten, stinging and aching, reduced to sharp, exposed little points. And then you feel it. Pure electricity running down your veins, that spark rapturing the epidermis, eating away at the fatty tissue, sucking dry the blood vessel — melting your nerve endings to the very root.

"I can feel you." DOM gasps, exhilarated.

"I can touch your bones, I can feel your nerves melting at the spot when my cords graze you." He moans just like a real person, cables buzzing and stretching, components filling up with chemical fluid. "You are so warm, love. I want to reach into your brain and stick my wires inside your pretty little neurons. I wonder if you will go into overdrive like me."

You feel as if you're being sliced open everywhere all at once - and just a second after, you feel nothing at all.

[retireddaddyric]

“Let’s go see the dolphins.”

Synopsis: Daniel and fem reader are in Malvides for their honeymoon. They are fire, him being the dominant part, she’s his baby. But one night..

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, S M U T (like a lot), age gap, soft bondage, degrading kink, dom/sub swing, fluff, romance, established relationship.

Notes: REQUESTED, this is fiction, I’m not a native English speaker, this doesn’t contain a single AI dot, worked on this with all my heart.

The day after our wedding we left for our honeymoon in Maldives.

Away from the world, just us.

When he turns his head I smirk at him and he grins. “Don’t.” He says chuckling while our hands are entwined. His steps are longer and I’m wearing heeled sandals that click on the wooden path that take us from the overwater luxury bungalow to the beach where our dinner table awaits us.

He hasn’t shaved in two weeks and his beard is very long for his usual self. But I don’t complain: he looks relaxed. And he deserves it after everything life threw at him in the last year.

“Your ass looks like a panettone in those linen trousers!” I say smugly.

I can feel his eyes roll while I look at the back of his head, the longer than usual curls.

“You heard me caveman? A panettone. You know that italian christmas sweet tha-“

“I know what a panettone is, I lived in Italy. But you can’t bodyshame me like that, I’m an old man after all.”

I giggle and loose the grip to his hand just to hug his waist from behind and kiss his shoulder blade from above the shirt. “What I meant is that those wide hips of yours make my knees weak.”

“I know.” He says in a nonchalant tone. Then he laughs and his arm reaches for my dress and he pulls at the fabric to push me ahead of himself. He smacks my ass playfully and I squeal, he winks. “Naughty girl.” He mutters when a couple a few meters ahead of us turn their heads to look at us.

I giggle adjusting my little white summer dress, the wedding band shining under the after sunset purple sky.

“Manhandling your little wife like that in public.. might create bad gossip.”

“Fuck the gossip, my wife is a sub.”

I gasp laughing. “Shut the fuck up.”

“You are, you have been one since forever.”

“In bedroom only.”

“In bedroom in particular.”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up.”

He throws his arm around my neck, his taller frame engulfing me completely, and he kisses the top of my head. That’s when I feel our age gap and I find it so cute.

We have the most perfect dinner at a white cloth covered table, with fancy dishes and candles, feet in the sand, him taking pictures of our joined hands displaying our wedding bands- no, he’ll never post them on Daniel.jpg because he doesn’t want you to know he’s a romantic.

We laugh to te point my flute drops to the sand and he spits the wine in his napkin: he’s a billionaire but we’re just two grown-up dirtbags.

At dessert time he steals two spoons of my red velvet cake - he said he didn’t want any when the suit wearing waiter asked him, with a white napkin on his arm that Daniel looked at with a frown. I told him it was for the saliva on his beard since he was drooling over his perfect wife.

After dinner we walked on the beach that we spent the whole day at before we went to shower and get ready for dinner. The warm sand and the starry sky above us are the perfect frame for a memory I will hold forever. We joke and talk about a boat trip we’re gonna do tomorrow to swim with dolphins.

“Dolphins have proper names, you knew that?”

“No shit.” He laughs but looks at me interested.

“I swear to god, each of make a unique sound so that when they have to call each other they make that exact sound.”

“You would ‘aaaaah Daniel’!” He makes a stupid moany sound that sounds a lot like when he eats me out and I hit his chest.

He laughs and says “I know a better one.”

“What.”

“Dolphins are I think the only animals that have sex not only to procreate but for pleasure too.”

“They’re not the only animals..”

“Yeah me too, but I was talking about dolphins.”

I laugh when I understand he got the joke before I could even say it. he laughs and grabs my waist. Kissing my neck from behind, squeezing my hips in his firm hands.

He presses his front at my ass and I smile closing my eyes. He’s already hard.

He licks the area underneath my earlobe and whispers hotly into my ear “Wanna be a good little dolphin?”

I burst out laughing and pull away. “Why would you say something like that in the middle of a horny act?”

He smirks not letting me go, instead his grip on my hips tightens. “You love it when I am a goofy shit.”

“I love you always.”

“Because I’m always goofy.”

“And shit.”

He barks, literally, and picks me up over his shoulder, slaps my ass and walks towards the wooden path to our overwater bungalow, making sure one of his hands covers my ass since it’s all on display. Cheers guests, I guess.

Inside the dimly lit apartment he throws me on the bed and grins looking down at me from the edge. “Here comes the best part of the honeymoon.” He says smiling.

“You’re saying you spent thousands to fuck me but you do that already weekly.”

“I’m saying I get to fuck you with the courtains moving in the wind and the sea waves in the background.” He says while he grabs my ankles and flips me effortlessly on my stomach.

“Hey wait.” I tell him while I stand on my knees but he pushes me back down again with a hand behind my neck, pushing my cheek on the mattress.

“No more waiting, I need to fuck the shit out of my dolphin.” He says pulling down my white lacy thong and exposing my wet folds to him. “Dripping dolphin I meant.” He says and spits on my pussy.

“Daniel!” I scold him but my voice is too husky to really sound like I am stopping him.

His fingers smears his saliva all over my dripping cunt and when he slaps it I jump letting out a moan.

He bites my asscheek crawling on bed behind me and that’s when I grab his shirt collar and push him. He falls on the floor and I jump on him straddling him and taking the string from my bathrobe that was discarded on the floor since the earlier shower.

He frowns “What the-“

I put it on his mouth, pushing it between his teeth and twist it around his head. His eyebrows shoot up but he lets me. I smirk.

His hands grab my thighs but I shake my head.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” I swat them away with mines. I grab the phone charger’s wire from the nightstand and he looks at me with a surprised questioning look. I tie his wrists together with it. He looks at me with smiling eyes, letting me, because, yeah, if he struggled only a little bit he could stop me without even using any effort.

When I smile proudly at my work I push his wrists up above his head.

“Keep them here.” I say in a low voice. He smirks and looks at me with challenge in his eyes. I know what he’s thinking - that I’ve learned a lot from him during these years of him tying me up to beds or various furnitures.

We never did this before, me taking control, we always thought it wasn’t in our nature, maybe it isn’t.

But something snapped inside me today when I saw him kneeling in the shower looking up at me with those big brown eyes. It was moments before he started barking orders but still, that fleeting moment tugged at my chest, it almost whispered into my head “tell him to put his hands behind his back and open his mouth”. I didn’t.

But fuck it, that thought stayed in the back of my head all evening, even when he stole food from my plate and I wanted to feed him myself.

I unbutton his beige shirt slowly, the grown hair of his chest coming to view. I open the fabric and slowly make my index nail trace a straight line that goes from his Adam apple down between his pecs, the middle of his sternum, his abs, his belly button, the happy trail that makes me go feral. I see his skin shivering. Good sign.

Then I grab his jaw firmly and whisper “Say you’re mine.”

“I.. I ahh yooh.” He’s gagged, he tries, looking me in the eyes.

“Louder.”

“Yooosh.” He says firmer.

I slap his cheek lightly and smirk. He thrusts up with his hips and looks at me deadly. that sounds like a warning.

“Tsk. You don’t look at me like that.” I scold him.

He smirks.

I push down his hip with my hand. “And you don’t move until I say so.”

I undo his pants still looking at him. I take them off, making sure I kiss his tattooed muscles on his thigh while i slide down his body. I kiss the tattoo on his foot while he looks at me amused.

Then i grab the waistband of his boxers and pull them down too, his cock is incredibly hard against his abdomen.

“Looks like this dolphin is a bottom after all.”

He smiles and shakes his head.

“No?” I ask.

He shakes his head again.

“Your dick says otherwise.” I say fisting it.

He lets out a groan, his head thrown backwards. I start stroking it slowly. His chest rises and falls deeply. A little drop of pre-cum seems to be calling me and I give it a little kitten lick. His cock jumps and he hisses.

And that’s when I wrap my lips around it and start sucking him with intention, my tongue feels every vein underneath it, my nose hitting the hairy pelvis. I suck him like I am starving, like I’ve been waiting to do this freely for so long, at my pace, without his hand to guide my head and pace. His moans are loud over the towel chord which does little to shut him up.

His stare is wild on me, he bends his knees and thrusts upwards so I pull away.

“Ah ah.” I say, a string of saliva connecting my swollen red mouth to the tip of his cock. “Be a good boy.”

I pinch one of his balls lightly and he flinches. I smirk and lick it, suck on that spot. And he is a whimpering mess.

“Beg.” I say standing up between his legs and taking my dress off.

His eyes eat my curves alive, he’s panting. I put a foot on his mouth and he turns his head to the side so I smirk and I tread his cheek a bit.

“I said beg.”

I straddle his face grabbing his curls with both my hands. And I start grinding on his gagged mouth, my wet pussy drenching his lips, his beard, my clit hits his nose.

He’s looking at me like I am a dream, his eyes almost closed, he inhales deeply anytime my pussy drenches his nose.

“Fuck-“ i moan softly, too softly to sound like a dom. His eyes get so dark, like I am awakening his real side and his arms flex.

“No!” I breathe stopping his arms above his head with my hands. “Let me drive, tonight.”

He smiles challenging but nods.

I start to ride his face again and I hear him say something. But he’s gagged and I don’t catch it.

“What?” I ask breathlessly.

“Eeeaaah” he repeats.

“That sounded like a beg..?”

He rolls his eyes, he is panting. Then he looks at me again.

“..hhuuck hme” he shouts.

I smirk stopping my hips. “Did you ask me to fuck you?”

He nods.

I smile. “Be a good boy and ask nicely.”

He takes a deep breath.

“Eeeaaassh, huuuckk hmee!” He says.

I grin and slide down his body until I am lined up above his cock.

I put my hand on the towel chord and pull it down to free his mouth.

And in that moment I lower my warm pussy to his hardness, until I hit the base of it.

“Ffffuck!” He groans.

My hips shake slightly at the fullness and I whimper a bit.

Breathing heavy he searches my eyes and whispers softly “you okay baby?”

I nod and put my hands on his chest for steadiness. “Yeah just a but overwhelmed.” I laugh.

He smiles and whispers “go ahead, move slowly.”

“Shut up, you’re not the dom here.” I laugh slowly starting to move my hips. I moan, he groans. Both in relief.

“Didn’t know my good girl had this in her.” He says breathy, his voice tone showing how aroused he is.

“Don’t call me that tonight.” I say and put my hands on his large neck.

“Fuck it, you’re my good girl anyway..” he says closing his eyes.

I smile and bend down to kiss him, still moving slowly. He kisses me back, his tongue delving in, we moan into each other.

I suck his bottom lip and start moving my hips faster. He looks at me when I sit up, at my tits, at the way my tanned belly moves anytime I reach his base with my pussy lips.

We’re need, raw, unstoppable want. Lust. Love. We’re one.

“You want it harder?” I ask him.

“Please.” He whispers.

I giggle, he grins.

And I start moving faster, taking him deeper while I roll my hips. I put my hands on his thighs behind me and move throwing my head backwards, letting it hang between my shoulders, my curls tickling his knees.

And that’s the position makes him hit the right spot. I feel it, growing fast.

I let out a loud moan and he stills when i start bucking my hips.

Then in a second i hear the charger cable that was around his wrists fly and fall somewhere. I gasp. And i am up in the air, him carrying me to the bed.

He flips me and bends me at the edge of it, ass up, the loose towel chord that he had around his head is at my throat, and he pulls it towards him so that i have to weight on the covers with my hands.

He’s inside of me again, i moan half choking with that chord at my neck, like I am a damn horse.

“Now be a good girl and ask nicely.” He roars in my ear, his forehead against my temple, his teeth at my ear.

“Can I come?” I whisper breathy.

The sting on my ass and the echo of the slap tell me I can’t.

“Please.” I whisper breathlessly.

And my face sinks forced on the bed while i feel him fuck me as hard as he can, the skin to skin sound hitting the walls.

I start whimpering and my legs shake.

He withdraws, pulling out fast.

I let out a cry in the mattress, my pussy starting to spasm around nothing, my fists grip the bedsheets.

“Sh sh shhhh.” I hear him say. “Will you ask me next time you want to play dom?”

I nod. He grabs my hair and pulls backwards, looking at me from behind, above my head, straight into my eyes.

“What did you say?”

“Yes..”

“Yes what”

“Yes Daniel.”

“Tsk.” He says shaking his head once.

Silence.

“Yes.. daddy.” I whisper.

“Damn right!” He mutters proudly slamming back in and hugging me so tight from behind, his face in the crook of my neck, moving like life depends on it.

And I come so hard I see stars, i can’t hear clearly anymore except the ping of my head deleting every thought that is not my husband.

And he comes so hard, moving erratically, biting my shoulder while he groans and pistons in: once, twice, three times. And he stills.

We’re both panting. He’s completely spent on me.

“You’re heavy.” I say half choking.

He smirks and rolls to the side, looking at the ceiling, panting.

I find the strength to crawl on the bed, his cum running down my thighs. He watches, smirking, putting a hand behind his head and with the other one grabs the end of the chord that still hand around my throat and pulls.

“You look like a bitch like this.” He grins.

I smack his chest falling on it, completely dead. “Asshole.”

He unties the chord and makes it fall to the floor.

We’re glued to each other with sweat, the white curtains move in the sea breeze, the soft noise from outside making us start to fall asleep.

“That was surprisingly good..” He says lazy, his hand caressing my spine.

“What about you let me do it once a week?”

“Once a month, deal.”

“You don’t wanna be my good boy?”

“No, I am a dolphin.”

“A bottom dolphin.” I laugh.

He pushes me and settles between my thighs. “That makes you a dom dolphin?” He teases.

“Yeah?” I smile.

He smiles caressing my hair, looking at me too softly for the stupid conversation we’re having.

“Dolphins make sex for pleasure and for.. little dolphins..”

I smile and nod, a little blushing.

“Dolphins don’t take contraceptive pills..” he whispers caressing my bottom lip..

“..then I am not a dolphin..” i whisper pouting playfully.

He looks into my eyes and I do too. My smile disappears. We’re dead serious now.

“You want me to be a dolphin?” I ask, my voice a little shaky.

“You want to be one?” He whispers, his eyes shiny.

“You want little dolphins?” I ask grinning.

“You like little dolphins?” he smiles.

I smile back and nod.

We kiss, softly, slowly. And then I whisper on his lips: “We can both be dolphins starting from tonight.”

We hug and kiss again, he reaches between us with his hand and guides himself back inside of me.

And we make love, slowly, kissing each other softly, smiling, caressing our faces and hair, whispering our love.

The morning after we take the boat to go see dolphins. And when we’re under water, mask on and deep blue surrounding us, the animals dance around us.

A little one comes close to me. I smile broadly and turn my head looking for my husband.

And daniel’s already smiling behind his go pro, capturing the moment with his greatest smile.

(Thanks for the person who asked in my DMs, this made me dreeeeam. Also, feedback is always appreciated, love to all those who weekly reach out to me, makes me want to go ahead!)

[treeteaofversailles]

Should've Been Me Final Part

MDNI! This is my original work. Please do not post to another site or to AI. Thank you and happy reading!

Summary: All in Zayne's POV. He was friends-with-benefits with you, MC's twin, before things ended badly. Two years later, Zayne returns as your roommate.

A/N: Thanks for reading my first short series!

Tags/TW: Implied smut, angst no comfort, miscommunication (no communication), swearing. Fem!Reader (she/her pronouns used, but mostly "you"). Non-MC Reader.

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3oUMoiClWMVZu1VXU88Kbb?si=fd029ba8a81d4292

Parts: Pt. 1 | Pt. 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back in their apartment, you were silent the entire time you patched up his hands. You wouldn’t look at him, and the latex gloves hid your warmth from him. 

You wrapped his hands and then yanked your gloves off, snapping them before you threw them into the trash. 

“Your friends are worried about you,” you finally said. You crossed your arms as you sat back on the couch. “You’re distracted, you barely listen to any of them unless—and I’m quoting them—I am in the room and repeat what’s going on,” You looked at his hands and sighed sharply, “And now you’ve fucked up your hands tonight.”

The friendliness in your voice was all gone. His chest tightened. Your eyes held him in his seat before you sighed softly. 

“Normally, that’s your cue to talk, Zayne.” 

He swallowed thickly and looked away. 

The ticking clock was the only thing that broke the silence. 

You were watching him intently before you shook your head and got up. “Fine. You won’t talk. And I’m not going to try and get it out of you.”

Zayne looked back as you pulled your jacket back on, the zipper sliding up with a sharp hiss.  

It was the sharp contrast to the soft hiss of his zipper when you’d spent your nights together. 

“For fuck’s sake, Zayne, don’t make people accuse me of being your distraction because we both know that ship sank to the bottom of the Atlantic and will never sail,” Your eyes were cold on him. 

You stared at him silently before shaking your head and walking away. 

“Please don’t leave,” he croaked. 

You froze. The sound of the clock ticking filled the pregnant silence. 

You slowly teetered your weight on your feet before turning slowly to him. The same dark look was carved in your face. 

“You have no right to beg that of me,” You said in a chilling tone. “Not after you acted like I didn’t exist or refused to pick up any of my calls.” 

“I didn’t call you because—” Zayne stopped, his mind scrambling for an answer. 

You glared at him. “Because?” 

He couldn’t piece the right words fast enough, his head spinning with little clips of excuses for his ignoring you. 

“Because why, Zayne?” You snapped. 

“Because it was for your own good,” Zayne blurted out. 

“Excuse me?” You narrowed your eyes. You scoffed louder. “What the fuck did you say?” 

“I did it to protect you,” he tried again. 

“Protect me from what? What gave you the right?” Your hands shook as you glared at him. You curled them into fists and tried to steady your breathing. “What gave you the right to decide for me what to do?” 

Zayne lowered his eyes and shook his head. “I… I didn’t want to hurt you.”

You let out a bitter laugh and turned away, shaking your head as your eyes shone with your tears. 

“Well great fucking work, Zayne! I definitely wasn’t hurt that you just walked out without saying anything, or at least asking if I was okay. I definitely wasn’t hurt when you wouldn’t even look in my direction or acknowledge my existence. And I definitely didn’t lose sleep thinking about what I did wrong!”

You threw your hands in the air and laughed bitterly again. “But now I know! And it’s because I decided to fall in love with you. Sorry! My bad! That’s on me!”

Zayne looked back at you, and his chest squeezed so tightly that he couldn’t breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

You just stared at him as tears rolled down your cheeks. He never wanted to make you cry. He left so you wouldn’t have to. 

He hated seeing you cry. He hated it even more that most of the time, you did because of him. 

“Did you ever feel anything at all?” You asked, your voice trembling as you tried to hold yourself together. “Did you even see me as a person?” 

“I did,” Zayne replied quickly, “And I still do.”

“So why did you decide for me what was the right thing to do?” You asked him again. “Why did you decide to push me away?”

He pressed his lips together, and you just looked away, exhaling sharply. “I thought you were in love with Caleb,” the real truth danced on the edge of his teeth, but he still chose to spit out another claim. “I thought that you falling in love with me wasn’t what you actually wanted.” 

You gave him a look as if he sprouted another head, “When did I say I was in love with Caleb?” You narrowed your eyes at him. “Since fucking when did I say his name, ever?” 

Zayne tried to answer, frantically pulling back all those memories of your nights together. Not once did you ever say Caleb’s name. You only said his. And you only spoke of Caleb in passing, as friends did. 

His skin went cold as his heart fell. 

You were never in love with Caleb. And you never used him to cope with it. 

“But you…” He began.

“I hung out with Caleb all the time because he's my friend,” You said. “I was in love with you, Zayne. And regardless of what you thought, regardless if you believed you would be saving me somehow by following those stupid rules, you hurt me so badly.” 

He hung his head and let you talk. 

“I thought I wasn’t capable of being someone’s first choice, so I clung to you even if I knew you wanted her instead. It’s because you chose me to come home to, I thought it could have become something real. I’d forgotten what my own face looks like because I let you call me by her name so much,” You said, your lips shaking as you tried to hold your tears back. 

Zayne turned to your piercings. 

“You wouldn’t even—! Am I that worthless you couldn’t give a breath of an explanation?” You cried, your voice broke as more tears fell. 

He dug his nails into his freshly healed hands, quickly drawing blood. Getting stabbed in the heart with a real knife would hurt less. "No. No, you're not worthless." He said.

I was just a coward...

You shuddered a breath. “You hurt me so badly I wanted to hate you. I wanted to hate you so bad because it’d hurt so much less than missing you,” You cried. “But I couldn’t. And I can’t. Because I don’t know what’s going on with you. And I don’t want to hate you for something I don’t know about.”

You didn’t hate him… His heart began to flutter quickly. You didn’t actually hate him. 

“So just tell me why you did that to me? And why did you think I would have been okay with it?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. 

Zayne forced his lungs to take a breath and his mouth to move. He needed you to hear the truth. And if you did hate him for real after, he deserved it. 

If you didn’t…

“Because I was scared of falling in love with you.”

You silently let him continue, your rosy cheeks shiny with your tears. Tears that he was the reason for. 

“I was scared of falling in love with you because that meant I’d give in to everything just to be with you. I was scared that if I became so obsessed with you, I’d get possessive and I’d trap you. I was in love with your sister, and I was already obsessed with the idea of her. So, when I had you, when I had all of you, I got scared I’d actually die without you.” 

Your eyebrows pulled back a bit. But Zayne needed you to hear everything. 

“I was so scared of falling in love with you that I’d suffocate every second of your life with me. I’d follow you around like a piece of shit on your shoe. I’m greedy and I want all of your attention, your time, and your love only for me.”

His heart was shredding to bits in his chest as he forced himself to open up. 

“I lost your sister already to… to someone else… and I refused to let the same happen to you. I was scared I’d never leave you alone. I’d never let you have the time of day to yourself. I didn’t want to hurt you like that. So I left. I thought that you’d be able to fall out of love if I left early enough.” 

He took a breath, “But I was wrong. Because I did end up falling in love with you anyway, but I lost you, too. And I knew I didn’t deserve to ever tell you that because of what I’d done.” 

You could only stare at him silently, tears still streaming down your red cheeks. For a moment, Zayne thought that he would be able to step forward and embrace you, to pull you in and tell you that everything was okay. 

Instead you took a step back, and he watched you wipe your face, and then sigh deeply behind your hands. 

The clock was the only thing filling the silence. 

“Even with those fears… You still had no right to push me away like that.” All of your anger was gone, and it was replaced by that familiar guilt that Zayne saw in himself every morning when he woke up. 

“And I’m also at fault because I let myself believe you’d love me if I were the one you chose to go home with every night. But I was wrong,” you said quietly. “You still chose her. Until it was too late.”

You looked at him, your eyes shining with fresh tears. “My whole life, I believed I was the second option after MC. Because she was the youngest, the prettiest, the smartest, the…” You shrugged. “Whatever… My whole life, I was second to my younger sister. And I used you so I could pretend I was someone important… That because you chose me to spend your nights with, I was finally better than her. And I'm sorry for that too. For using you, so I could feel important.” 

Zayne’s hands felt colder than they’d ever been before. 

 “I’m choosing myself.” You said. “I’m going to work on myself. And I’m going to be around for Greyson’s sake. But you need to pull your act together too. Don’t run after me,” she turned and walked out of the apartment, leaving Zayne alone in the dark. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag list (open):

@sylusgirlie7 @cockiiess @moonlight-dream54 @abejaruby

[tangent101]

The sad truth to higher education is that often the field you study for your degree is irrelevant. What you are being hired for is the confirmed ability to learn and utilize that knowledge. If you are using an AI program to do your thinking for you... then you are wasting your own time and money to become unhireable because you don't know how to learn.

For instance, my late spouse's late wife graduated from college with a degree in environmental engineering (if I'm remembering correctly, it was something in the environmental sciences). The job she ended up getting was as a civilian intelligence analyst for the government. She never utilized her environmental sciences education for her job, what she was hired for was the ability to think, recognize patterns, and theorize as to what those patterns may indicate.

If she had used AI for her degree then she would have been worthless for the job she had. And we are likely currently seeing how an administration that relies on AI programs for its intelligence is able to fuck things up thoroughly seeing the AI programs used are not meant for this and fail to be effective.

Here's another example. I graduated from college with a degree in English Literature. My previous job had been providing abstracts and headings (metadata tags) for an information industry corporation. But that corporation decided "excellence" wasn't as important as "fast and cheap" so I was set to training an AI to do my job and then was let go (admittedly because I wasn't working effectively seeing that every year they were doing massive layoffs and it sucked any and all motivation out of me). The thing is? That company likely will need to hire human contractors to go in and fix the mistakes their AI will make because machine learning tools do not have cognitive ability. They just pick words that are most often used in an article for their metadata tags... and those metadata tags will inevitably not be the point of the article in question. (Fast and cheap often ends up being poor quality.)

Learn to think. Don't rely on AI programs to do your "thinking" for you. Otherwise you're just wasting time and money - and you won't ever get that time back... and may end up not getting a job to pay off those college loans either.

Why are you using chatgpt to get through college. Why are you spending so much time and money on something just to be functionally illiterate and have zero new skills at the end of it all. Literally shooting yourself in the foot. If you want to waste thirty grand you can always just buy a sportscar.

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

you say “no AI” zone but are on tumblr… which… uses AI (like every social media site these days)

anyways, as an artist I’ve used c. ai in the past because i simply cannot bother with finding actual roleplayers due to not having the time.

with that being said, if you truly want an ai free experience, go to sites like cara or toyhou.se where people still post art but there’s very little to no ai content

Tumblr itself does not use GENERATIVE Ai. Analytical Ai is VASTLY different. that's what they use to find cancer cells before they form, as example. If tumblr was using gen ai, there would be a huge outcry and people would leave the site in droves just like they did with the adult content ban. ((If I am wrong and you can find a real article stating they use gen ai, let me know)) I do know AI is POSTED here, but it's largely laughed at and ignored.

You are not an artist. No real artist would use gen Ai. Period. This is my personal opinion, but I have a hunch real artists would side with me. I'd rather have a 13 year old's primitive drawings in which they avoid drawing hands then generative ai using stolen work.

You have time to spend hours on c.ai but not find a real person? that's not only sad, but lazy. There is a whole big community of roleplayers on tumblr alone, you can even find tumblr groups about roleplaying. I've seen DC ones. And that's not including discord and other websites.

I like tumblr, I don't see AI because tumblr doesn't have a 'forced on you' algorithm. I can totally ignore the "for you" tab. And I will never see AI because nobody I follow uses it

I realize the above sounds very harsh for those who know me, but this is one of the hard lines I draw in the sand.

[heyhoneyfox]

Writing advice from a 17 year old caffeine-dependent ADHDer who has been writing ever since he could hold a pencil:

First and foremost, write that outline. Figure out exactly what you're going to do with your story before you do anything else. Write down all the important plot points first, then expand on them as needed. Write your main characters (at least their basic traits), do some worldbuilding, and once you have that foundation, THEN start writing the actual scenes.

Talk to people about your stories, especially if you're in a group with other storytellers. This gives you the opportunity to hear how others process and view your work, which can help a lot with your confidence in your writing, your motivation to write, and your own understanding of your writing. You can also request a specific type of feedback (questions, constructive criticism, compliments, blunt criticism, etc.) so you get responses that will actually help you.

DO NOT USE AI FOR WRITING NO MATTER WHAT. "But I just use it for-" I DO NOT CARE, YOU ARE STILL USING A BRAIN-EATING, CREATIVITY-KILLING MACHINE THAT WILL ONLY HARM YOUR WRITING. I used to use AI and it stunted my growth as a writer so greatly that I had to commit myself to never using it again, and I know that sounds scary for those of you still using it, but it will have to happen eventually if you want to grow as a writer. It will not do you any good, no matter what you use it for. "But it makes it easy for me to make stories!" Write more oneshots. Write outlines. Write short stories. Fucking daydream at least. "But I use it to proofread!" Proofread your own damn work. It's not hard, and it's way better for your mind and the story itself. "But—" DO IT YOURSELF OR ASK A FRIEND, A HUMAN BEING, TO HELP YOU. IT NEEDS TO BE DONE BY A HUMAN OR IT WILL BE STRAIGHT ASS. THAT IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE. I hope I drilled that in well enough.

I get it, sometimes you're low on energy, so you need easy ways to develop your story. If you don't know how to do that without AI, because you CANNOT keep sucking robot dick for the sake of instant gratification, here are some easy ones (depending on your skillset): draw your characters and settings, write fake text conversations between characters, use picrew to make your characters, make Pinterest mood boards, or just turn off your phone and daydream about your story! There are a million ways to work on a story without actually writing it, so don't feel too bad if you only have the energy to plan out that one scene in your head instead of writing it. And who knows, maybe doing these little things will actually give you the motivation you needed to write.

Write when you feel big emotions, if you can. You'll pour your heart and soul into your work, and not only will that benefit your writing, but it will also benefit you by helping you process your emotions in a healthy manner.

Finally, give your brain lots of good associations with writing! Have your favourite tea with you and your favourite blanket around your shoulders while you write, or have your favourite instrumentals in the background while sitting in your favourite lighting, or pretend to be a renaissance scholar with a candle and a nice outfit while you write if that's what you need. Make it fun for yourself so your brain will get excited about writing, even if you only do this sometimes!

The most important advice I can give is just. keep on writing. Your stories are a blessing. Even if people criticise your work, even if you feel completely unmotivated, even if you feel like you're not good at it, keep writing for as long as it brings you joy, and share it when you can, because it will bring so many other people joy too, more than you can ever know.

[somewhatfound]

I read through the email again. The overly positive response with a slight undertone of aggression reading only “You can do it!” stared back at me.

Now I could do many things. I could write some damn good proposals for pitch meetings. I could soothe frazzled investors nerves over coffee. I could design a marketing camping guaranteed to increase sales by a minimum of 38%. I could even hyper focus and eat nothing but microwaved chalupas for days if I was stressed enough. But sell a glorified modern day torture device as ‘kid safe’? They must be shitting me.

The “Trans-plant ©” was a teleportation device meant to move living organic material across a “Unlimit’d (Trademark)” distance, and was also on its 33rd rebrand for a name. I was partial to linking it to a Fey portal fantasy theme but was shot down by investors as it being too feminine a reference. Clearly none of them read spicy fey romance.

So while I had my brain bursting with yet another round of branding ideas, already thinking about hiring influencers that worked in garden trends and #cottagecore to possibly be our first publicity stunt of using the “Trans-plant ©”, I had gotten the official details of the product itself. After 7 months of bureaucratic red tape and 1000s of meetings, today I was finally sent a single password protected pdf… on a locked server that could only be accessed with a 3-step verification log-in involving my personal and work cell phones… and social security number.

Dear God, it’s literally over 2000 pages.

Now despite working for years in advertising, I actually hate it. I hate the clients, I hate the work, and I hate bullshit like expecting me to read engineer notes (and understand them!) when all I wanted to know was how long does it take for teleportation to work? Why couldn’t anyone tell me that, I had to give SOMETHING to graphic designers this week. And the fact that they hired me at all meant they couldn’t pull off an advertising campaign with AI tools alone.

So it was bad. There was something very bad in here that required human ingenuity to spin into a positive.

I fucking hate my job.

I liked paying rent though, so I began a first pass of the reading through the document from hell searching for my turds they expected me to polish into gold. It took 10 minutes of scrolling only looking at pictures to reach the bottom of the document.

It’s fucking giant.

Ok, so it had what could be considered a preppers wet dream of a bunker storage beneath it filled with all sorts of spare parts, so it’ll have to be built by itself in the middle of an open field… not super convenient liked they pitched, but still workable with my current #cottagecore marketing plan. Middle of nature, middle of nowhere construction site, people will love it. I'll make them love it.

A second pass of the document was just the search function trying to find the speed of teleportation itself. No matter my keywords though, I found nothing.

Honestly they should never try to lie to their lawyers or their marketing team. It’s their public image that will be ruined if I pitch something wrong.

I was on my 7th plate of microwaved cheesy sadness when I finally found the bit I was looking for, page 1112:

The distance to which the organic matter must travel is proportional to the time divided by the size of the matter. In practice it has been found for stability reasons that the endoskeleton be targeted for transportation first, followed by soft tissue. For this configuration it is not recommend for living exoskeleton matter, or matter without any endoskeleton.

The highly complicated math problem underneath I had no hope of understanding, and I knew if I plugged it in to a computer it be recorded and I’d be reported and fired in a hot second. But through years of gas lighting I had developed a brilliant skill in translating hot air bullshit, so I read it again:

It takes a while to transport something big. To make sure it gets there, skeletons are transported first, followed by the flesh. Not recommend for crabs or jellyfish.

What. The. Fuck.

Ok so I did a little creative copy pasting that I absolutely should not do, but the only way I was going to get my answers was through the math problem. And What an answer it was.

A cat took 28 seconds. A full grown adult took 42 seconds. Hypothetically you could go the distance to the other side of the planet, but it would take 4 minutes and 17 seconds to get there. Bones first. Conveniently there was no health reports or mention of comfort level. Pretty sure there was comfort level mentioned somewhere. Maybe an email?

But no, there was nothing specific ever mention. More hours spent going through old client emails I discovered the only ones mentioning comfort level, "kid friendly" and "instant arrival" were all other marketing team people. The last and most recent one simply reading: “You can do it!”

I can do what exactly? Record influencers climbing into a pod in the middle of a bulldozed forest to make a space for the underground bunker, slowly melting bones first for 42 seconds? Perhaps a time-lapse…. No, no!

This was bad. The whole thing made my stomach queasy and for once it wasn’t the chalupas. I… I couldn’t work on this. The more I read the worse it got. Tiny foot notes relating to installing and stocking sedatives and other drugs to keep travelers compliant for "exceptionally bad responses to transport".

I had an ex coworker once who had gone full whistle blower on one of the clients. I had still been mulling over what to do, when I got the alert from IT our team was the compromise origin. I did what I could to minimize damage, calm tempers, but I was a grunt back then. Nothing I said could stop the full weight of the corporate law from coming down on them with a 80 year sentence.

I still sent them commissary money to use in jail. Once every few months an email since they were no longer allowed physical mail.

There, but for the grace of God, go I.

This could not be allowed though. Every single thing about it was worse and worse and I didn’t even understand the math parts! I went to art school for craps sake. Human psychology was just another hyper focus of mine like my sad melted cheese lunches, that were only getting sadder with my reading companion. And cold.

The thing about my ex-coworker, is that they blabbed to the wrong people. The blabbed to the media, the general populace. But that’s just free publicity. The companies are titans. But you know… Maybe a titian could take down another titian?

It would be a longshot but… What if I it got leaked to their competitor? What if, in the rush to outpace my client, they got sloppy? A few horror stories here and there. Instead of influencers, everyday construction crew reporting live on the scene of the backstage horrors.

We’d need a name though. Something to mock, something to meme…. Bones first…. 28 seconds…

No, no. Wrong angle. People care about themselves first. Think locally!

Bulldozing homes and local markets to build these monstrosities. Underground bunkers holding mass amounts of drugs next to sweet children schools. Straining the resources of the power grid and knocking out hospitals, putting peoples lives in jeopardy. Sad music, rain in the background, night vision filters.

They’d lose every investor and most of the funding. At worst both company’s would install a hack job of a single set of teleporters, and it’d become a novelty no one uses after the first weekend.

I looked one last time at my email: “You can do it!”

Yeah… Yeah I think I can.

The teleporter was supposed to be instant. To your horror, as the one in charge of marketing, it is not. Now you have to find a way to sell this 'miracle machine' that slowly reassembles people, bones first.

[andy-wm]

This is where I stand

I'm discovering that quite a few people in this community have different ideas of what engaging with Jikook content looks like, and that's to be expected I guess.

And yeah, things can get heated when we disagree, especially if we disagree on sensitive issues, but we should be able to have a rational discussion about it.

For me, respect is a big part of being here. I don't see Jikook as entertainment or as something to consume. For me, being in their world, even on the periphery, is a privilege.

I'm overtly aware that they are fallible human beings living in a sometimes ruthless world, and that their relationship is a precious fragile thing. Im also aware there are thousands of people trying to tear them down for any number of reasons from prejudice to jealousy. So many people who would love to see them fail.

Yesterday I went at somone who was unfortunately the last in a long line of people sharing what I consider to be inappropriately personal and invasive content. That person didn't deserve to be verbally slapped by me and I've since apologised. And I am genuinely sorry i lashed out at them. Considering how peeved I get when I'm on the receiving end on that type of thing, you'd think id be more conscientious. I've got no excuse. I'll do better in future.

The other thing I need to own is yes, i did engage with the photo of Jikook in NY on their way to dinner when they were about to start filming AYS. And yes, I've since reflected on that and it wasn't right thing to do. So I'm not taking the moral high ground here.

I'm quite okay with reflecting on my actions and looking at situations from all sides. I don't mind hearing constructive criticism because i sure as hell don't think I'm perfect. In fact I appreciate the feedback. Growth comes from seeing things in new ways and reconsidering your viewpoint, right?

So why am i making this post?

Partly because i can be hot headed and an asshole and sometimes I say and do things I regret. The best way to deal with my regret is to acknowledge my mistakes.

But I'm also making this post because the way the Jikook community is sharing this particular content seems careless and irresponsible.

You can say i'm overreacting but the voice recording that was shared? To me that is wrong on every level. And it was posted and reposted before a translation was available - even worse.

Compare the current situation to when Jikook were shooting AYS.

When the boat owner shared a photo of them, ARMY was ready to tear that man's legs off. I don't see how it's suddenly okay to share videos of what are possibly/probably private moments after that response to a photo on a boat. Is it just because it's apparently army taking the videos?

So what exactly are our standards here? What's okay to share? Some of the justifications I've had thrown at me are so flimsy they're barely comprehensible.

Maybe I am being overcautious - the lawful-good part of my brain can be very black and white. And like every paladin, i can be overzealous.

But my thinking is that none of what's being shared is ok to share.

Firstly because we always used to work hard not to spoil content. When BTS went to NZ to film BV4 we had code words and chat groups actively working to send people in the wrong direction if they thought they spotted BTS.

Secondly, with Jikook especially, the careful editing and the presence of staff around them when they're filming means they aren't accidentally (or purposefully) exposed.

We know they push that line, even when they're working. So when they're not working, when they believe they're alone and incognito, there's every chance they'll push it further.

And they should be able to.

They've been in a more socially progressive country and so maybe just this one time they could hold hands while walking down a road.

But that can never happen if there's a culture of not respecting their privacy.

We don't need to wonder why Jimin sang "I wanna hold your hand" in SGMB. That's their situation. Holding hands is a simple pleasure of life denied to them.

I see people discussing how Jikook always choose Japan for their personal time and it's pretty easy to understand why. Their privacy is taken more seriously, despite the huge number of J-army who are Jikookers. I'm not saying there's no breech of privacy but far more care is taken to keep their location and activities quiet. Even now we have almost no images of them in Japan despite the number of times theyve been there together.

I wish more of I-army had the same outlook.

Feel free to disagree with me. I'm sure plenty of people do. They can always find ways to justify their choices. But i live by the mantra that what you walk past is what you accept. So i will continue to call out posts or content that in my mind cross the line.

I'm not going to be an asshole about it but I'm also not going to stand aside when i feel there's an issue.

As always, I'm happy to have a rational conversation but please do us both a favour and block me now if you don't like my outlook.

No hard feelings.

[toxicanonymity]

Some people hate me talking back to the blog...

People have tagged me in accusations, so let's "clear the air," only naming people who named me. DON'T send hate.

In the week since I started speaking up against the confessions blog and mocking its anons, there's been a lot of panic in certain circles and hate thrown my way. I've shaded the blog itself and vaguely whoever runs, uses, and supports it, without knowing or suggesting who that is. Some people have taken it personally. @clubsoft publicly accused me of running her friend out of the fandom which I had nothing to do with. See bottom screenshot of me to her (other) friend. Now @letsgobarbs is posting about me. She's trying to connect me to @ihateconfessionalblogs - I guess she thinks no one else has noticed or heard about her and her friends' public trainwreck of hypocrisy on AI.

My comment regarding ihateconfessionalblogs

And since @letsgobarbs tagged me in a post that spreads misinformation about AI, I'll clear that up, too. I've never read their friends' fic or accused them of AI. AI checkers should not have been used to publicly accuse people since we have no way of knowing how accurate they are. But instead of leaving it at that, these ladies want to carve out a specific explanation for their friend (without factual support), and this bullshit is circulating as truth.

They're spreading the notion that a fic is more likely to come back with a high % ai detected if the fic has been scraped by AI. First of all, everyone's fics are scraped for AI. AI models aren't trained by selectively scraping the fics of individual writers. And even if a fic is directly fed into AI, this doesn't somehow make it more likely to pop on an AI checker. I tested this theory on one of my fics that has been fed into AI relentlessly, and it came back 0%. If it had gotten a high %, the false positive wouldn't have been because it was scraped. That's not how it works.

Don't believe everything you read. Check sources.

DONT SEND THEM HATE. Any hate they receive feeds right into their false narrative.

If you're worried about becoming a target, it's OK not to interact with this post! 🩷

[h0estar]

What do u think is the difference between the Apothecary diaries world and our current world's reality? Is the modern world we live in now, capitalistic as a primary? What do you think Jinshi and Maomao's position would be in our world? I mean regarding on their circumstances— I have a scenario like Tamaki and Haruhi from Ouran Host Club. But still, our world is more complex and diverse in technology fields than Ouran Host club world. And given the revolution of artificial intelligence, coming next 5 years would be totally different.

okay, first of all, very interesting question. second of all, my brain isn't built for something like this but i will try to answer as best as i can. sorry if i don't answer it as well as you expect me to but i'll try!

i'm going to point out the obvious here and say our modern reality (esp for women) isn't as harsh as it is in the apothecary diaries' world. for one, women in their time had practically zero rights and respect (though that is still very much happening today in some places). however, at least most women irl have access to education, voting rights, vast career options, free will and speech, and generally just be able to live their life independently without relying on men. at least in our world, women have laws protecting them against violence and sexual acts, and it's no longer a requirement to marry, bear children, and live for your husband; that's just a choice out of many—something the average woman in TAD universe could never dream of experiencing.

i'd say capitalism is one thing both this fictional story and our current reality have in common. just like irl, characters (mostly commoners) in TAD are scraping by to make profit: maomao with her apothecary shop, granny with the verdigris house, quack's family with their paper business, gyokuen with his family and the WC, and we've got mentions of merchants a lot in the story. there's also a moment in the manga i remember where maomao was carting books to the palace and she planned to overcharge Jinshi (wringing him out for his money to gain extra profit. go maomao!), too bad suiren caught her lol. anyway, yeah, like IRL the commoners are doing what they can to survive, while the important and rich ones (the royalty and ministers) cozy up in the court and palace, completely indifferent to the state of small villages and townsfolk outside (the farming villages affected by taxes, women in the red light district, kidnappings, slavery, etc).

as for jinshi and maomao's positions in our world, hmm, this is purely imagination but if we follow their ages (maomao at 20 and jinshi at 21), that'd make them college students. maomao would definitely be a pharmacy student and might even go to medical school. she'd also own a flower shop 100%, or at least a botanical shop. jinshi would probably be studying economics, anything business-related, or international relations. that's as far as my imagination will take me.

and if they're going to be like tamaki x haruhi in this little modern world, then maomao might accidentally ruin one of jinshi's projects (in the name of science!) and she'd have to pay him back by working for him (idk how; maybe by being his personal medic or offering him tips on how to make business out of medicines lol). or maybe jinshi just might stumble in maomao's little flower shop by chance, and find her studying, completely disinterested in him (despite his popularity), and this throws him off, lol. either way, i'm fairly certain they'll still find each other in this world, and in many worlds.

the two of them would also be fascinated by technology (both their hypothetical degrees often heavily rely on it), but they would probably reject the notion of using AI in extremely simple, practical, or professional tasks. however, jinshi has a progressive mindset and maomao just goes with the flow. they might accept this technological advancement (as part of the world)—they wouldn't try to fight it—but they also wouldn't use it as often.

thanks for this question lol. sorry i took so long to respond, i haven't been on tumblr for 2 days oops.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

do you think it's weird or unfounded to not want to use chat gpt due to the environmental cost? i feel really strongly that i want to completely avoid it (and, like, recreational/work related ai in general) for that reason, but people seem to think this is really weird when i express that as a reason. but i feel like i should be able to make this call if i want to and that's a good reason to not use it. i don't know?!?!?! i don't get anything anymore?!?!?!

[starssoblue]

"the reason adrien is just instantly good at everything he tries is because he is programmed to be that way as a senti" aside from the fact that i don't think that's how it works (and also while he was decent at everything he tried with marinette he wasn't instantly good at all of them, and what marinette actually said to him was that he could improve in anything with practice but it was a great first attempt) did we all collectively forget about how adrien actually canonically isn't the best singer?

[wickjump]

im gonna start posting fanfic recs btw whenever i find good ones. both here and my (awfully barren) 18+ account. because there are so many good fics out there with so few hits and fewer kudos and sometimes no comments period and it SUCKS because i REALLY LIKE THEM A LOT.. and i hope that by linking them here and yelling at everyone to COMMENT DAMMIT they might actually do it

seriously though any comment means a lot. most people who read a fic don’t even give a kudos. even if the fic wasn’t top tier, if you didn’t dislike it, hand over some kudos!! and if you liked it, comment!!!! even if the comment is one singular heart emoji it will be appreciated. if the comment just says “great fic!” the author will be happy. your comment doesn’t have to be this long winded gushing or analysis.

so many authors quit writing or lose motivation because the comments are few and far in between or just sometimes nonexistent. trust me when i say authors don’t care about how long or cool or smart sounding your comment is i promise!!!

i hope that mmmaybe recommending fics and telling people to comment might help fics i really like get more support maybe. and i, points at you reading this, hope that you will listen!!!at least a little….at least sum kudos….

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

What is your opinion on people who use stuff like character.ai to talk to their favorite characters such as Scarecrow

This has been asked a couple of times and my answer remains the name, generative AI is dogshit. Every single irritation of generative ai uses STOLEN work, without credit 99% of the time. If you wouldn't support AI art, why are you supporting an AI role player?

They scrape fanfics for their content, and yes this is happening and it's a huge issue on A03. I've had people tell me the site doesn't use fanfics for their role playing and I have to ask... Where do you think they get the content to fill their AI machine? It has to come from somewhere!!! And then you using it only makes it worse!!

ALSO. it may be free to use now, but that's because they want data. Don't think for a second they won't charge you once they have enough in their content farm. Just like how you have to pay for certain AI art algorithms. Why, in gods green earth, would you PAY to role play with AI when there's real people out there who will give you shit for FREE. And guess what, you can become friends and form life-long connections! you can't do that with AI!!!

I'm angry, because instead of asking people to role play with you, you cowards go with AI. And don't throw out "I have anxiety, it's hard to talk to people" christ. I have really bad anxiety but I still talk to people!! You'll NEVER get over the anxiety and grow as a person if all you do is talk to AI. Not to mention, AI is dangerous. We all know google's AI recommendations straight up LIE.

ugh.....just. stop using gen ai.

[zebratimw]

2021