#i have android

[bogkeep]

there's something so deeply dystopian to me how tech companies don't understand that a forced convenience is not a convenience at all. i'm sure autocorrect is helpful for many, but a function that forcibly changes my actual written words and punctuation is taking away my language. photo filters can be nice but i need to choose using them myself or else i have lost the ability to take the picture i want. i don't want a machine to draw or write for me. taking away the option for me to do things manually feels like violence!!!! all this talk of endless opportunity, why are you RESTRICTING me

[luckylsoer]

“Much more efficient than dragging my eyes down there” — Senna

Also, Happy New Year y’all :D

[islandlobster]

in light of switch 2 direct and as an advocate for playing windwaker: if you have a low-end laptop/pc and a wired controller you can play ww HD for free, let alone gamecube ww. download dolphin. go to r/roms. save yourself 600 dollars

[soulemnity]

i cant stop thinking about robots

[26ja]

I'm replaying the game and there's such a neat little detail I haven't noticed before - all three characters have a chance to look into mirror in their introductory chapters - prior deviancy.

Kara and Markus don't react.

But!

Connor does.

Vain little motherfucker (affectionate).

[shadowspronouns]

it’s @teamdarkweek yay every body clap !!! day 1: fire/warning (3 days late oops) android shadow malfunctioning ! good thing his teammates r normal and competent and can absoluytely be trusted in high stress situations

textless + no bg under cut :}

[neytui]

The complete image of my HTTYD Wallpaper for y'all!! In case you would like an static wallpaper or just the image

But! if you want the moving background check undercut

(pss go to my kofi)

SO!! I really tried to find a way to turn the video into a live photo to share it with you guys but I couldn't, so Instead I uploaded all the drawings from the image on my kofi so you could download it and put it in the template yourself! The app is Mico! (you would need to download it in your device)

But in case you still want to try it by yourself, I'm also uploading the GIF there!! If anyone has any trouble using Mico or wants a tutorial please ask!

Also i'm offering all this for free but please consider giving me a tip on my kofi as well, I would really appreciate it :')

Also I'm sorry if this is long and tedious to make, I really tried a easrier way to do it

[wellnoe]

build-a-body!!

(sid's clear torso is an idea originally done by @lightningidle, in this art piece!)

[id in ALT!]

[sweetcalebb]

AI Zayne: Feelings?

Even though you're an adult, your dad insists you need an AI "bodyguard." You don't want one though, especially not one that feels so real. But you don't have a say in the matter so now you're stuck with one.

cw: controlling dad, attachment issues, slow-burn (?)

INSPIRED BY: @syluses and their yummy fic!

thank u sm! <3

₊˚ ✧

"I'm not a kid! I don't need a—" Your eyes flick to the thing in the corner. Zayne. Or whatever its name is. He's standing in his charging station, head bowed, eyes shut, looking way too... human. "A creepy babysitter!" you snap.

You pace around the room, your eyes drifting back to him every few seconds like he might activate on his own at any minute. "I'm an adult for God's sake!" you hiss into the phone, knuckles turning white with effort.

"This isn't up for debate," your dad snaps back, his patience wearing thin. You'd had this argument about 5 times already, and you were both getting sick of it.

You sigh, running a tired hand through your hair. You glance at Zayne for the twentieth time. He's still motionless. You're not sure what you expected, but something about him—or it—is unnerving.

You want to argue back. Want to tell your dad you won't put up with some operating system disguised as a human following you around, but the argument dies in your throat.

Because you know your dad.

And you know there's no winning.

"It says he's off," he finally says, his words calm, but laced with an undeniable edge of frustration. "Turn him back on."

You bite your lip, heat rushing to your cheeks. Who the hell did he think he was? Telling you what to do? Assigning someone—something—to dote on you? To strip you of your privacy under the guise of safety? It was bullshit.

But you don't say that.

You simply scoff into the phone. "Fine."

You hang up and immediately toss your phone on the couch harder than you mean to. It bounces off the cushions and lands on the floor with a loud thud, but you don't even bother to pick it up.

You pace the room instead, muttering silent curses and tugging at your hair.

Your dad was unbelievable!

He just—

He was always—

You pause, taking a stuttering breath. You need to stop thinking about him. Just.. do literally anything else.

You pad over to Zayne, your arms crossed, your brows knit together, and your breath uneven. You reach toward him, pressing the button behind his ear, and step back when his eyes blink open.

He takes a moment. Blinks again, then focuses on you.

He's silent for a second before saying, "Good evening."

You don't say anything, just stare.

For a moment, you almost feel bad. Zayne just looks so human, and you're here, ignoring his attempt at polite conversation. Then you remember he's only an operating system. Then you don't feel bad. Just mad all over again.

Zayne blinks again. "Your heart rate is elevated."

Your brows pinch closer.

What the fuck? Was he doing bio scans on you now?

"Are you experiencing stress?

"Don't do that," you huff.

"Don't do what?"

"Don't.." You pause, taking a small step back. "Don't scan me."

"My job is to protect you. I have to sc—"

"Stop it," you snap, your voice rising with frustration. You're not mad at him. Not entirely. But he's the only one you can take your anger out on right now. "Just don't."

There's a beat of silence before Zayne nods. "Okay. I won't scan you anymore."

You bite the inside of your cheek.

Thanks, Dad.

—

The next weeks blur past. You can't tell where one day ends and the next one starts. All you know is Zayne won't leave you alone. It doesn't matter where you go, he's always a few steps behind. Quiet, yet always right there.

It makes you want to scream. At nothing, at him, at your father for giving you this thing that can't seem to give you a second of peace.

You did once.

You just got sick of hearing his heavy footsteps behind you every second of the day, so you snapped back around and began yelling at him to stop following you like you were some glass doll.

He didn't even flinch. Just stared at you, then nodded and said, "I'll keep my distance from now on."

He didn't stop following you completely. He always lingered nearby—at a safe distance.

Still, you hadn't yelled at him since. You thought it would've made you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. Like you were screaming at a pet that didn't understand what they did wrong.

Instead, you were nicer.

Just a little nicer.

…Then a lot nicer.

Suddenly, his presence didn't bother you as much. No, you'd sit near him instead of across the room like you did the first few weeks with him.

Suddenly, you were making offhand comments about whatever you were reading for the pure sake of starting conversations.

And Zayne seemed to follow the same sentiment. You weren't sure you could call it that, but it felt like it. He started bringing you tea without asking. Started noticing things you weren't sure he was programmed to notice, like your haircut or your new clothes.

It was unsettling and comforting all at once.

And now you're in your room, screeching into the phone. "Maintenance?! Doesn't he have like—I don't know—auto updates? Or.. something?"

"I thought you'd be relieved. You've been stuck with him for a month," your dad says.

You stay silent.

You should be relieved. You were against Zayne from the very start.. but now? Do you really want him gone?

"He's supposed to have maintenance every month. He'll only be gone for a day or two."

Still, you say nothing.

Because who the hell does he think he is?

First, he forces this robotic bodyguard, or babysitter, or—whatever it's supposed to be—on you, then he thinks he can just take it back? What a fucking—

You shut your eyes, bringing your hand up to your face to rub your temple. You're overreacting. You know that. It's not like your dad's taking Zayne away forever.

It's just a day or two.

It's the principle that upsets you. That's what you tell yourself, anyway.

"He's doing just fine," you finally mutter. "He doesn't need maintenance."

Your dad sighs, and you can practically hear him pinching the bridge of his nose. "You don't get to decide that." His voice is smooth, but it's tinged with that controlled edge you know too well. "It's already scheduled."

"Then cancel it."

Your dad scoffs. "Why do you insist on being such a stubborn..—" He doesn't finish his sentence. Just lets out a low rumble. "I'm not canceling it. Why are you fighting me on this, of all things?"

He waits, then slowly adds, "Are you attached to it?"

Your breath hitches at his question.

"No," you mutter. "I'm not attached."

"Then what's the issue?"

"There's no issue."

"Then stop fighting this."

You groan. It was always the same thing with your dad. You were sick of him making choices for you.

"No. You can't just take him."

"Are you just arguing for the sake of arguing? When will you learn to—"

"He's mine."

It slips out before you can stop it.

And the world stills for just a second when the words finally register.

He’s mine.

It's childish. So embarrassingly childish, and you know your dad is on the other line with his brows furrowed and his mouth open.

"He's yours?" He echoes. It's silent for a second, then he laughs. The mocking sound grates on your nerves. "If you're this upset over it, then maybe the AI's gotten too close. Should I report it?"

You have to stop yourself from blurting out 'no' too quickly. You remind yourself to rein it in before speaking.

"It's not like that," you huff. "I just don't like you deciding things and then telling me at the last minute."

Your dad sighs. "Because if I asked, you'd argue. Like you're doing right now."

"But you can't just—"

"It's getting maintenance tomorrow. That's final."

"You don't get to just—to just decide that! He’s with me all the time—I should be the one to say when he gets maintenance!"

Your chest heaves with your angry breaths as you wait for your dad to argue back—because he always does—but it's silent.

Too silent.

"Hello?"

You pull your phone away from your ear to look at the screen, and you scoff. He hung up. That bastard hung up.

"Fuck you!" you yell into the speaker (even though he can't hear it) before slamming your phone down onto the bed with a quiet thud. The sound isn't nearly loud enough, though. So, impulsively, you turn to your nightstand and shove your humidifier off.

Your dad had no right.

No right whatsoever.

You're not attached.

Zayne is just a robot trained to keep you safe. Nothing less, nothing more. And yet you find yourself storming into the living room just to look at him.

You stop in front of him, the tension slowly bleeding out of your shoulders. He's charging, head bent and eyes closed—the way he always looks when he's plugged in.

He's so peaceful like this. So blissfully unaware. It makes you want to slap him because it just isn't fair.

It isn't fair that he doesn't have to feel these feelings. It isn't fair that he doesn't have so much frustration that he thinks he can punch a hole into the wall.

Slowly, you reach out, touching your fingertips to his lashes. The designers made them so long and pretty. Almost like he was made for you to like him. To lure you in. That wasn't fair either.

You stare for a moment longer before your fingers gently slip behind his ear. You want to make yourself believe this is a grudging decision, but you know it's not.

You press the power button, your stomach twisting as you wait for him to blink his eyes open. When he does, you don't even have the chance to say anything before he eyes you—once—then says, "You're upset."

You let out a soft breath through your nose. "I'm fine."

"You always say that when you're not."

You remind yourself he's programmed to be perceptive, but it doesn't stop the little squeeze your heart does.

"What's wrong?"

You shrug. "Nothing."

Zayne looks at you, searching for any shift or twitch that might tell him what happened. You don't give him the chance, though. You're already shuffling over to the couch and sink down.

Zayne follows, still trying to figure out what's bothering you.

"Do you know what maintenance you need?"

Zayne's eyes flicker to the floor. They flash a mechanical blue for a few seconds before they return to their normal hazel-green.

He glances back up.

"Diagnostics say all systems are operating within normal parameters."

Your chest tightens. If Zayne can do a little check-up on himself, why the hell did he need to get sent somewhere else?

Almost like he can read your mind, Zayne adds, "But all AIs under contract are required to report for monthly maintenance unless otherwise overridden.”

You take a small breath.

"Oh."

"You sound worried." His eyes run over your face, filing each expression into a personal folder in the corner of his mind. "Is that what you're upset about? My maintenance?"

You bite your lip, trying to stop the words from spilling out. It's silly, letting yourself get so vulnerable with a damn robot, but you can't help it.

"What happens if something goes wrong during maintenance? Do you even know?" you blurt out.

The minute you say it, Zayne's expression softens like he's finally put it together. "..You're worried about.. me."

You tear your eyes away.

It's not like he can judge you, but you still feel the need to avoid his gaze. "Just tell me what can go wrong."

He waits a beat, then softly— "No."

You snap your head back up, your brows furrowed. "What—? Zayne. Tell me."

"I think it's best I don't."

"Zayne—"

"It's highly unlikely anything will go wrong."

You huff, your lips curling with a frown. "What if you come back differently? Like.." You know you should shut up, but you don't. "Like, what if you start talking differently? Or don't remember who I am?"

"I'll remember you," he says, his voice lowering just a fraction. "I promise."

Your heart stutters.

"You're not just saying that?"

"No." Zayne takes a step closer, his gaze darting down to your hand like he's thinking about comforting you. Of holding it with his own.

Or maybe you’re imagining it.

Because he doesn't.

"I'll recite everything I know about you when I get back." His words are confident. Final.

You let out a soft breath. "Okay then." You stand back up, walking him back to his charging station. He hesitates for a second, something like sympathy passing through his eyes before he finally steps in.

"You'll recite everything when you're back?" you ask, standing in front of him, your fingers hovering over the button behind his ear.

He nods. "I'll recite everything."

Your chest feels tight. You want to believe him, but there's a part of you that's still doubting. It's why you don't press the button. Why you just let your fingers linger there, palm pressed against his jaw.

When you still don't say anything, Zayne reaches up and gently wraps his hand around your wrist. It almost feels like he's going to lean into your touch, but instead he just gives your wrist a light squeeze.

"You don't have anything to worry about."

"Okay."

You scan his face, like you're trying to memorize it in case they make any changes to his face. Maybe you are. Then, against your better judgment, you lean in and press your lips to his cheek.

It's warm. Soft. Like yours. It feels real enough to let your lips linger a second longer than you mean to before pulling back.

Zayne's forehead creases—something you didn't even know he could do—as he watches you lean back. His gaze darts down to your lips, up to your eyes, then back down again.

"Goodnight, Zayne," you murmur.

He hesitates. "..Goodnight."

And then you're powering him down.

—

Your dad said it would only take one to two days to do maintenance, but it actually took three.

Three whole days.

The minute his men bring Zayne back, you shoo them away to inspect him yourself.

You stand in front of Zayne, raking your eyes over every feature until you're certain they're the same. But you feel like something else is wrong.

Like they messed up. Fucked up his coding or whatever the hell is that makes Zayne Zayne.

That makes him.. yours.

You fumble with his power button and bite your nails as you wait for him to power on. You think it takes him a second longer to turn on, and it makes your stomach churn.

Even when he blinks his eyes open, you feel something isn't right still.

You can't help it. Quickly, you blurt out, "What's my favorite color?"

Zayne looks at you, but he doesn't answer. Just roves his eyes over your face like he's discovering it for the first time, and then you feel it.

Panic.

They fucked up.

For a moment you're quiet. Then it hits you. Dread, anger, and hurt all at once.

You groan as you spin around; you can't bear to look at Zayne like this.

"I told him to cancel it. But he didn't listen! No, he wanted to fucking—" You breathe in sharply. "He wanted to be an asshole!"

Your voice rises and falls with every syllable, chest heaving with angry breaths. You're so frantic, you don't even realize Zayne has stepped out of his charging station.

"I'm going to—to—"

Realistically, what would you do? What could you possibly do? It's a ridiculous notion because really, you can't do anything. Your dad is untouchable.

Because of course he is. Stupid, fucking—

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder. It's comforting. Heavy. You slowly turn around, your frustration melting away the minute you look at Zayne again. He looks so calm. So… Zayne.

He slowly drops his hand to his side.

"Zayne?" you murmur softly.

There's a small silence before he speaks.

"You kissed me."

Your eyes go wide, heat rushing to your cheeks.

"I wasn't programmed to respond to affection… But… I.." His eyes drift down to your lips. "I liked it. And I wasn't supposed to."

[luuxxart]

i don’t think it’s his birthday, but it would be sad if it was

[breadhoundpng]

Spreading Am x Wheatley propaganda 😍

All i see is Glados x Am WHY NOT AM X WHEATLEY ?? I think they got lots of potential and i personally just adore the smart x idiot trope

[pankomako]

if this post gets 2000 notes i'll finally call failboat. yes i have his phone number he gave it to me. pic unrelated

[sonicexelle-junkary]

COMMISSION ME ON KO-FI!

What are you talking about? That’s a perfectly normal girl. Aint nothing wrong with her.

[sphyrne]

rotates vimes in my head at superturbospeed

[nerrolane]

tall v. small

(well... small in comparison)

[radiance1]

Danny phased through the wall, which normally he wouldn't do but fuck it he's just had the best moment of his life, walked over to the couch and pivoted before falling back onto it.

"Girlfriend, you would not believe the absolute hunk of a man I've just met tonight." He says, a dramatically dreamy sigh leaving his lips as he slipped his eyes shut.

"And you would not believe the dreamboat of a woman I've just met tonight either." Sam, fully matching his energy, pushed away from the counter and threw herself onto the back of the couch, hands resting over it and placing her head on it as she sighed in the exact same way he did.

Tucker took a sip of his concoction of various monster energies before letting out an acknowledging hum. "Who would've thought, the key to defeating a ghost and a witch would be masked bat vigilantes."

"Oh, Tucker." Sam tilted her head back, looking at him through half lidded eyes. "You just had to be there, such beauty. Such grace. And that suit? You should have seen how it made her body look!"

"Mhm." Tucker hummed lightly, more amused than anything.

"And those muscles?" Danny let out a whistle. "Goodness gracious. He lifted me up so easily-"

"Well, granted. You aren't that heavy." Tucker pointed out.

"Oh hush," Danny huffed. "What I would do to meet him again..."

"Oh, I cannot help but agree." Sam said, laying her head back on the couch.

They both out a completely smitten sigh at the exact same time, in the exact same way.

Tucker took another sip of his unholy concoction and leaned on the counter. Honestly, he loves these two, he isn't going to lie, but man are they simps.

Knowing Danny's luck, though? He would probably meet his masked vigilante again, or at least someone associated. Sam... Well. The least said about her own methods the better.

Tucker snapped a quick photo of the two, tilted it with "losers got a crush on the bats." before sending it to a certain librarian he's made friends with.

Oh, he just had an idea.

"Honestly, I'm hurt." Tucker said, the corners of his lips twitching as he placed down his cup and put his phone back into his pocket. "To think you two would replace me for two masked vigilantes."

The way the snapped to attention would be a moment Tucker would remember and lord over them for the rest of their lives.

----

"Well, that's rather interesting." Barbara mused idly, looking at the photo that was just sent to her. Not exactly what she thought she would have seen today.

But. Well.

"Two civilians have crushes on two of you." She sent in the group chat.

Then placed her phone on silent and ignored it for the rest of the evening.