#AI should not be deciding anything for anyone

[ranthaven]

Here is the most pertinent thing about UnitedHealth to me: it is the company my employer uses to manage our healthcare coverage. Here is the only positive thing I know about United: my oldest child had top surgery and the coverage was good enough that my son was able to pay off what he owed (mostly for the anesthesiologist) in a year while also attending grad school. We are very fortunate in my family.

I grieve for the 32% of denied claims, however many people that may represent. I am furious that they use crap AI to override doctors’ professional judgment. I am outraged by how much the executive compensation package is. There is nothing a CEO, or any other executive, does that is worth that kind of money.

I am stuck with only two options for coverage. Either I stay on my employer’s plan, which has a fairly low premium deducted before taxes from my paycheck, or we all go on my wife’s plan. Her plan costs nothing as long as it is only covering her. If we put the family on it, as we have in the past, it takes a big bite of a much smaller paycheck than mine. My wife is a special education technician in our local public school system.

I work in a factory making tampons. Say what you will, our jobs contribute positively to society one way or another. Like it or not, all organizations need some kind of administrative structure with some kind of leadership at levels reflecting the complexity of the whole structure. CEOs certainly should be paid decently, but I see no argument whatsoever for more than $1 million in a straight salary. Stock options should be illegal.

All that is to say that I sincerely hope the assassin is never found.

Also, for-profit healthcare in any part should be illegal. It’s not if you need care, it’s when you need care. Fucking vultures.

UnitedHealthcare CEO shooting (4 December 2024)

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

[narnian-neverlander]

One Night Stands Only [Jason Todd x GN!Reader]

Summary: It’s obvious Jason only has one night stands - right?

Genre: fluff, tiny bit of hurt/comfort

Word Count: 4,6k

Warnings: none

A/N: Came across the DC Valentine’s special again and… yeah. Decided to do sth about it 💁

If you use any of my works for AI I will hunt you down for sport 😬

“You were right, it’s a nice place.” Bernard nods appraisingly, glancing around the newly opened bookstore, little café situated right in the middle. It’s not a new concept by any means, but the high ceilings and big windows allow the little natural light Gotham has to brighten the entire place and the cozy couches and booths scattered between shelves make for a nice and different respite from what the city usually has to offer. Tim hums in approval as he glances over the menu again. “Yeah; quiet, comfy, good coffee selection. I should thank the person who recommended it.”

“And who was that?” Bernard asks over his shoulder before greeting the girl working the counter and placing their order. Tim’s brows immediately furrow. “It was… I heard about it from… Uhm…” The blonde chuckles as he steers his boyfriend towards a nearby table, eyes flicking towards a corner sofa. “You think it might’ve been your brother?” Tim snorts. “Which one?” He receives a gesture at something behind him as an answer and finds Jason sitting on one of the couches a little further back, book propped open in his lap and a few more stacked on the small, round table in front of him and Tim nods. “Okay, sure, that tracks.” Bernard watches over Tim’s shoulder a few moments longer, then a small smile forms on his face. “I mean, yeah, it is a nice place for a date.”

Tim’s head snaps back around so fast it’s comical, a disbelieving, almost scandalized ‘Date?!’ out of his mouth before he can stop it. Sure enough, someone else has joined his brother, just in the process of placing two cups on the table - or trying to anyways; an almost impossible task with the amount of books already occupying the small space. And while he might not be able to hear either of you, he wouldn’t be part of a family of world class detectives if he couldn’t read lips.

‘Okay, should I just get like, a whole teapot now? How long do you plan on being here?’

‘Eh, not long.’

‘Jay, even you can’t read five books at once.’

‘Watch me.’

A cocky grin and an eyebrow waggle, which earns him an eye roll from the mystery person, albeit attached to a fond smile, followed by a shooing motion to scoot further down the sofa and make space, to which he obliges immediately. Tucked into Jason’s side, his arm coming around your shoulders entirely too naturally as both of you go back to your books, seemingly all settled and content to simply be in the other’s presence like this.

Tim turns back to his boyfriend with brows drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line and fingers tapping his chin in thought - and Bernard knows exactly what that look means. “Tim, switch outta detective mode. Your brother has a date, so what?” But the gears are clearly already turning and not stopping anytime soon. “It’s just… Jason only has one night stands.” It’s a look somewhere between surprise, disbelief and even offense before the blonde speaks up again. “Isn’t that a bit presumptuous? You don’t know if—“ Tim vehemently shakes his head to interrupt him. “No, no, I mean that’s literally what he told me; what he tells anyone from the family who asks, as far as I’m aware.”

Bernard’s eyes move over to the couch again, simply observing for a few seconds before he shrugs. “Well, one night stands don’t exclude a date. Or maybe he’s changed his mind. People are allowed to do that, you know.” he says with an easy grin right as the little round sensor on their table starts vibrating, indicating their order is ready. He snatches the device up and stands, placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder, effectively gaining his attention. “Either way, I don’t think it’s anything for you to lose sleep over. Or any of your business, to be honest. If he is in a relationship and you don’t know, I’m sure he has his reasons.” He grabs the hand Tim has been busy biting the cuticles off of and presses a kiss to his knuckles. “Just let it go, detective.”

With that he’s gone to pick up their drinks, meanwhile Tim almost turns his head to look at the couple again, but ultimately decides against it, instead racking his brain for wether or not any of his other siblings ever mentioned Jason having a partner, but nothing comes to mind. Fingers drumming against the table, he’s one spiraling thought away from getting up and going over there to satisfy the annoying itch of curiosity, but then he watches Bernard walk back towards him, a coffee cup in each hand and a happy smile on his face, his own heart skipping a beat at the sight, and he realizes that his boyfriend’s right. It doesn’t matter right now, nor is it any of his business; if this is someone, important to Jason, he would tell them - in his own time.

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

“Okay I had my doubts, but that was pretty good.” Stephanie states as she stretches her arms over her head, following the crowds out of the theater into the big entrance hall. Cass grins and nods enthusiastically in agreement, while Babs only shrugs and hums in thought. “I mean, sure, it was good; solid storytelling, breathtaking visuals, but—“

“I still think the book’s better, though.”

They all know it’s exactly what the redhead was gonna say, but it doesn’t come from her. Even so, the voice is familiar and all three of their heads snap up almost in unison to look for the source.

A joyful laugh, from around the pillar a little ways in front of them, followed by, “That’s the most Jason thing you could’ve said, ya know.”

Now that voice isn’t familiar to any of them, neither is the person who appears in their field of view a second later, hands linked with someone still hidden by the pillar - not that it’s still much of a secret who it is.

“So? It’s still true.”

The soft grin on the stranger’s face morphs into something more mischievous. “Riiight. I’m sure you hated every second of this. That’s why I saw some tears during a scene or two.”

A squeak as the person gets yanked forward, disappearing from sight again; then laughs can be heard accompanied with, “It was dark, you didn’t see shit.”

The three girls exchange glances, all wide eyes and raised brows. Then they watch the couple walk out into the open of the entrance hall, towards the exit, one of Jason’s arm’s wrapped tightly around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

Cassandra is the first to shake off the stupor, a soft smile spreading across her face. “They’re cute together.” she signs. “Yeeeaaahhh…” Steph starts, staring at the doors the two had just left through. “Too cute. And definitely too familiar to just be a one night stand.” The wicked grin is a telltale sign of trouble and Barbara pinches the bridge of her nose because it doesn’t bode well for anybody.

“Just leave it alone, Steph.”

“Oh come on!” the blonde complains. “He’s the one who’s been telling us for ages that he doesn’t do relationships and now he’s out here all sweet and cozy and lovey dovey with someone? And you’re not the least bit curious? I say we investigate!”

Barbara levels her with a blank stare. “And you don’t think that might be the exact reason he doesn’t tell us anything?” Stephanie narrows her eyes at the redhead in suspicion. It’s unlike her, unlike Oracle, not to want all the details of a situation. “Did you already know?”

“Whatever gives you that idea?”

“Because you know everything. And wouldn’t you—“

Barbara doesn’t let her finish. “Would you want a date to be interrupted by your siblings just cause they feel like annoying you? Pestering you about your partner? Jason isn’t the most open, conversational person at the best of times; what do you think is gonna happen if he catches onto your little investigation?”

Steph is about to argue back that sure, while there’s some personal entertainment value involved, she just doesn’t like the idea of someone she cares about being with someone she doesn’t know. What if they’re not a good person? What if they end up hurting him? What if—

Her thoughts are interrupted by a hand on her shoulder and she turns to find herself looking straight into Cass’ dark eyes, her expression serious.

“They really like him, don’t meddle.” she signs.

That takes some of the wind out of Stephanie’s sails and she visibly deflates a bit. “You, uh… you could tell, huh?” The black haired girl nods eagerly and Steph runs a hand through her hair in contemplation. People are an open book to Cassandra, without her ever having to have exchanged a single word with them. If she says you’re fine, that you truly like Jason and have no bad intentions, then… then Steph could leave it alone with an easy conscience. For now, anyways.

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

“Thank you for the assist, Master Richard, but I assure you, while welcome, it was not necessary.”

“It’s fine, Alfred.” Dick reassures while loading the last of the groceries into the back of the car. “I know you can handle the regular grocery shopping just fine, but it’s rare to have that many people at once at the manor; I’m glad to help out.”

The older man gives him a grateful smile in return, then plucks a piece of paper from inside his coat pocket and checks it over. “Oh dear, I do believe I’ve missed something.” he mumbles and hands the list over to Dick. “Master Richard, would you mind looking our current purchase over again, just in case? I’ll be right back.”

He watches Alfred hurry back towards the store, someone else exiting when he’s a few feet away from the entrance. A short exchange, quick thanks presumably, as the person holds the door open for him. Then you steer left, in his general direction and—

Hold on. He wasn’t here when him and Alfred got outta the store a few minutes ago.

The parking lot is situated lower than the actual store, some stairs to his right leading up to the higher level, so Dick takes a few steps backwards and cranes his neck back slightly, a leafless hedge partly blocking his view, but the tall, broad stature clad in a leather jacket and the black and white hair are a dead give away. He’s about to call out, surely his brother just didn’t spot him yet, but someone beats him to it.

“Okay, let’s go home.”

The person who’d just left the store. Most definitely talking to Jason. And you seem more than a little annoyed and exasperated.

Meanwhile his brother looks like he’s trying not to burst out laughing.

“What?” the mystery person barks, eyes narrowed at the tall man suspiciously.

“I know I did not just watch you whack an old lady over the head with a magazine cause she tried to take the steak from you.”

“It was the last one!” you complain and the tension bleeds from Dick’s shoulders as he realizes that this is in no way a serious altercation. “Besides, Constance had it coming, not the first time she tried to pull a stunt like that; she’s a fucking menace to everybody.”

Silence for a few long seconds. Then, “If you laugh right now, I swear to God I’m leaving you out on the street tonight, Todd.”

Jason snorts. “And then who’s gonna make the food you fought so hard to get? Sure as shit not you; last time I left you alone with the stove, I thought Firefly had broken into the apartment.”

Dick watches his brother’s conversation partner huff, arms crossed over your chest in defiance as you stare Jason down - until your shoulders sag in defeat and you break eye contact, because apparently, he’s right. “You’re lucky you’ve got other talents besides just being pretty, you know that?”

Jason takes the bags from you, met with only mild complaints, as he grins. “You think I’m pretty? Aw, thanks, babe.” You roll your eyes at that, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of your lips either way. “Leave the corny flirting to Nightwing, it doesn’t suit you.” And Jason actually has the audacity to scrunch up his face in distaste. “Hey now. I was only teasing you; comparing me to him is a straight up insult, take it back.”

“Make me~” you taunt with a sing-song voice and a mirthful smirk, then take off full speed in the opposite direction, past the store, with Jason hot on your heels not a second later.

And Dick hasn’t seen his little brother wear a smile that big in such a long time, he almost forgets to be offended.

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

Damian isn’t sure why he’s even here. It’s not like this has any actual academic value for him.

That’s Chrysaora fuscescens.

Over there, Hippocampus hippocampus.

And that one’s Anguilla dieffenbachii.

He’s studied all these creatures and more before and even if he wouldn’t learn anything new about aquatic dwellers, his father had insisted on him going on this field trip. Something about a chance to ‘improve his social skills’.

Tt.

If that’s the mission he’d been given, he’d succeed. Even if he thought it utterly unnecessary. At least he could do it in the presence of one of the most beautiful creatures on the planet, the mighty—

“Shark! Jason, look, there it is!”

With the level of excitement, one would think it’s coming from a child, but no, it’s very much an adult, standing in front of the big glass tank, in the company of Todd of all people. Damian slows his steps to a halt, coming from one of the smaller side entrances that lead to the huge room, and simply observes from a safe distance.

“Uh huh, I see it. And I feel like now would be a good time to remind you that you have plenty of shark memorabilia and that we’ll simply be walking past the gift shop later.”

An inelegant snort, as the person side eyes him with amusement. “Would now be a good time to remind you that we both know that’s not happening?”

Jason pinches the bridge of his nose as he heaves a sigh, but Damian detects no true malice in it. He’s seen him truly irritated, angry - this is nothing of the sort. Fond exasperation, if anything.

“I know they’re nowhere near as dangerous as the media likes to make them out to be,” Jason starts, “but I’m still not sure how you can look at something decidedly dangerous, built for killing, and think it’s… cute.”

The look he receives in return is one Damian can’t quite identify and apparently neither can his brother.

“What?”

“Really? You can’t figure that out?” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head to the side in thought. “Well, I think you should meet my boyfriend, then. Cause ya know, he’s pretty dangerous and rough around the edges, too, and I still think he’s cute.”

Jason mimics your stance as he responds. “Oh, do you now?”

You nod eagerly, grinning ear to ear. “Of course. When he gets up all groggy with a bed head cause he works late? Cute. When he pretends to get annoyed at his best friend cause he called him a silly nickname? Cute. When—“ That’s as far you get, interrupted by your own squeal, as Jason brings one arm around your shoulders to pull you in and smoosh your face against his chest, the other around your waist so you can’t escape. “Yeah, yeah, got it; I think I’ve heard enough about that guy now.”

Meanwhile you’ve managed to gain enough wiggle room to loop your arms around his neck and pull back to look up at him, lopsided, lovesick smile plastered all over your face. “Sorry, I can’t help it sometimes; I love him very much.” And it’s embarrassing, Damian thinks, how fast Jason breaks, all affectionate grin and soft eyes, just because someone is batting their lashes at him. “Well, he’d be a fool not to love you back.”

Damian turns away in disgust right as the couple is about to share a kiss and retreats down the hallway he came from. He’d never taken Todd for a particularly… honorable man, but courting someone he knows to be in a relationship with someone else? That’s a vile breach of trust that he won’t stand for. And, if he bothered to be honest with himself, not something he could actually see Todd engaging in. Despite his many flaws, he’s proven himself a loyal man often enough. But Damian can’t ignore what he heard with his own ears, that would be disregarding incriminating evidence, so he’ll need to have a talk with his father as soon as he gets home.

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

You’re curled up on the couch book in hand when the front door all but flies open, your boyfriend hurrying inside and immediately locking the door behind him again. Before you even get a chance to greet him, he’s speeding through the rest of the apartment, making sure all the windows are shut tight and locked, too. You’ve put the book away, instead staring at him over the back of the couch with raised, quizzical brows when he comes back down the hallway into the living room, finally kicking off his boots at the entrance and hanging up his jacket. Then he beelines for the sofa, lifting up your legs to make room and plop himself down, settling your legs in his lap before he tips his head back and scrubs his hands over his face with a groan.

“Okay, Jay? I need you to talk to me; what kind of apocalypse should I be preparing for here?”

He doesn’t answer for a few long seconds, simply drops his hands from his face, his fingers coming to draw anxious patterns into your thighs instead. “Yeah, we’re totally busted. They know about you now.” And as miserable as he looks, as much as you know that spending time with his family is often draining and challenging for him, you can’t help the relieved laugh that bubbles up out of your throat, because with they way he’d just put your apartment on complete lockdown, you’d been expecting something - or someone - way worse.

Still chuckling, you grab one of his hands and squeeze. “Sweetheart, your family literally consists of detectives. In my opinion, we’re damn lucky to have even made it this long without them knowing.” He sighs, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “I’m not convinced Babs didn’t know before tonight. That woman knows everything.” While you’ve only heard stories and seen some pictures of the redhead, you have absolutely no trouble believing that. “So what happened, anyways?”

He mulls it over for a moment. “Well, I think it started when Damian tried to have me disowned.” You almost choke on nothing but air, a sound somewhere between a snort, a cough and a laugh leaving you. “Okay, you’ve completely lost me, babe.”

“Honestly, I was mostly just surprised I’m even still in the will.” A not so gentle nudge of your foot, an annoyed whine of his name because sure, you’d play along for now. Let him get the jokes and sass out of his system and pretend that you don’t see that the lazy grin he gives you is forced. That you don’t feel one his feet tapping the floor anxiously. That you don’t notice the way his eyes keep flicking towards the window and the door, like he’s expecting them to be kicked down any second now. “Apparently Damian saw us at the aquarium together and somehow assumed I’m your, uh, your mistress? And thought it dishonorable enough to bring up disowning me because of it.” Admittedly, picturing that elicits a real laugh, one you try to hide, but the next part still comes out as more of a wheeze than anything else. “And he just… what? Brought that up casually over dinner?” Jason shrugs. “Basically. Tried to talk my way outta it, but turns out some of the others saw us together, too, and things just spiraled from there.” It’s quiet for only a moment, then you, very much still intent on helping him distract himself from whatever it is that’s truly eating at him, but mixed with just a tad of entertained curiosity now, hit him with, “Well, yeah, makes sense; you have been getting sloppy.” His head shoots up from the back of the couch so fast you’re afraid his neck might snap and he actually looks offended. “How exactly is this my fault?”

“Come on, Jay. First couple of months of this relationship you wouldn’t even leave the house with me. Now? Grocery shopping, the movies, café dates, the aquarium - we’re barely apart, so it really was only a matter of time till they figured it out.” Rolling his eyes, he slides further down his seat and pouts, fully aware that technically you are correct - doesn’t mean he has to like it. “Great, helpful as ever, darling. And what do you, in your infinite wisdom, suggest we do about this now?” You regard him in silence for a moment: how he fiddles with your fingers, the set of his jaw, the furrow in his brows, the way every muscle in his body seems tense.

“Hey…” you murmur gently, interlacing your fingers. “Why do we have to do anything about this? What are you so worried about? I promise not to bite them when I meet them. Unless you want me to.” Careful prodding, still interlaced with humor - to let him know he can talk to you about it, but only if he wants to. He huffs out a quiet laugh, giving your intertwined hands a squeeze. “You can be such a gremlin sometimes, do you know that?” Bringing a hand to your chest in mock offense, you grin at him. “Oh, you do not get to call me a gremlin when you’re the one who consistently feeds me after midnight and gets me plenty wet.” The following eye brow waggle from your side is what breaks him; a full blown, joyful laugh as he shifts, picking you up and depositing you on his lap sideways, his arms encircling your middle, some of the previous tension visibly leaving his face. “See, that’s the exact kinda shit I don’t need you saying around them, cause I’ll never live that down.” Humming in thought, you get comfortable in your new position, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “Sounds like a you problem, though.” It earns you a playful pinch to your sides that has you batting at his arms and hands to try and get him to stop; a fruitless effort of course, but he eventually settles his hands back on your hips. In turn, you place a hand on his chest, feeling for his heartbeat; most definitely too fast for simply fooling around with and teasing you. He’s not just worried, he’s scared, so you decide the time for games is over. “I’m being serious, though, what’s the matter? This isn’t anything you actually need to be concerned over, is it? It’s really not that big of a deal. So what if they know about me? So what if I eventually meet them now; not like it’s gonna change anything between us.” It’s small and if you didn’t know him as well you did, you probably would’ve missed it or written it off as irrelevant: the way he ever so slightly flinches at the last part.

Bingo.

But you don’t push, you know better. You let him get his thoughts in order, shifting restlessly beneath you while he does and let him answer in his own time.

“It’s stupid…”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

A sigh, then you feel him rest his cheek on the top of your head.

“I dunno. Being around you is always so… easy. Comforting. Being with them isn’t. It’s complicated and it’s messy and overall just exhausting, most of the time. It’s not all bad, just…” He shakes his head slightly, like he’s trying to get rid of an onslaught of memories; good or bad, you’re not entirely sure. “I guess I just don’t want them rubbing off on you, is all.” Pulling back to look at him, you find his eyes elsewhere, anywhere but you, desperate to avoid your scrutiny. “In other words, you’re worried your relationship with them, their opinions of you, are gonna affect mine, right?” He still can’t bring himself to look at you when he mumbles, “Basically…”

You shuffle about until you get your legs back under you, straddling him and cupping his face in your palms, running your thumbs along his cheek bones until he willingly brings his unnaturally green eyes back to yours and you feel like your heart might crack at the uncertainty you find there. “You’re forgetting that, aside from you, I’m probably the most stubborn person in this city; once I’ve made up my mind, it’s hard to change it. If anything, you should be worried about me not shutting the fuck up about how amazing and wonderful you are around them.” He scoffs and tries to turn his head out of your hold, but you refuse to let go and press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose instead, effectively stunning him into obedience. “Uh uh, you’re not going anywhere, I’m not finished yet. I’m on your side, okay? Even if it feels like nobody else is. I’m judging you based on my experiences with you, not theirs. And sure, not everything’s been great; you’re not perfect and neither am I, but that’s human. We live and we learn and we fuck up and then we try again. And I know you try, Jason. Every day, I know you’re trying. Trying to navigate a second life you never asked for. Trying to live in a body that never feels right, no matter how much time passes. Trying to mend the bonds with a family that more often than not still sees the ghost of a boy looking back at them, instead of the man you’ve become. Trying to make things better in this city, so that no one has to go through the same things you did. And nothing your family could say or do or show me is ever gonna change what I see with my own eyes.” He’s been silent this entire time, letting you speak, but you watched his shoulders slump, the tension that’s kept him wound up like a spring finally dissipating, and his own hands are now gently holding onto your wrists.

“And what do you see?”

It’s barely above a whisper, so quiet, you almost miss it despite how close you are.

You don’t have all the answers. You don’t actually know what meeting his family is gonna be like, how it might affect your relationship, but this? Oh, this you can answer just fine.

“A man who’s scarred and deeply flawed, but is still trying to do better, to be better. A man who wants to make up for the mistakes he did make, but sometimes nobody cares to listen. A man who, for all his efforts to appear ruthless, is still the most caring person I know. I see a man who, despite life never having been kind to him, retained a kind soul.”

And with the way he’s looking at you right now? Nothing but wonder and admiration and affection written all over his face? How could you not be sure about what you’re gonna say next? Sure that no one, absolutely no one, would ever be able to change your mind about him.

“I see the love of my life.”

[slutzforbueckers]

Hi! Love your work! Thought maybe action #9 sending text/pictures where maybe reader & paige were texting back and forth but then paige got a message from the team chat at the same time and sent her wild response to the team and not reader on accident! Then damage control lol

oopsies

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡— warnings: not rlly smut but kinda fluff too idfk

♡— synopsis: you and paige were in the middle of sexting when she got a message from the team groupchat… she accidentally sent the wrong message to the wrong chat.

❥•°❀°•༢

paige 💋💋

i miss your pretty pussy

so fucking good

you bit your bottom lip at her text, rolling over onto your stomach as you thought about what to say next. within the next few seconds you decided that a picture would probably do more justice than anything you could say.

you

*one attachment*

she misses you too p, dw

paige groaned when she saw the picture of your fingers spreading your pussy, your arousal clear by the string of slick connecting your fingertips. she pressed her thighs together, trying to relieve some pressure.

she started typing again immediately, barely able to focus with the heat pulsing between her legs. while she typed she got a notification from the team group chat, she didn’t bother to look as she raised her pointer finger and swiped it away.

what she didn’t realize was that she accidentally clicked on the notification instead of swiping it. her thumbs were clumsy as she quickly typed and sent the text without checking twice.

paige 🪣

fuck baby

i wanna spread you open n taste everything

i’d have you crying in like five minutes

she clicked out of the messages to answer the group chats text but when she clicked on it a picture of your cunt was staring back at her. paige’s brows furrowed in confusion and her eyes narrowed as she checked the name—it was your contact alright but where was the text she’d just sent?

paige thought she had maybe accidentally hallucinated it and she started to type it out again but then she started receiving a string of notifications from the group chat. she saw up quickly when she realized what she’d done.

aubrey 👵🏾

girl what???

kk 💃🏽

oh hell nah

REF DO SOMETHING

jana 🍃

omfg delete delete delete

QUICKLY

paige’s soul left her body, she stared at the screen in horror, the realization hitting so hard it made her physically recoil. “fuck fuck fuck,” she hissed, scrambling to unsend the message—but it was too late, everyone had seen it. she tried to flip it around, do and say anything to stop this from being brought up for the next 10 years of her life—even though that was totally unstoppable.

paige 🪣

im so so so sorry

i was literally hacked

this is literally ai

don’t believe everything you see on the internet

kk 💃🏽

girl boo 🌚

azzi 👑

no ai could do that amount of damage i fear…

caroline🙎🏻‍♀️

i hate to say this but you’re cooked

you laid on your stomach still, wondering what was taking paige so long to answer. you started to type another message out but then you saw the three little grey dots appear.

paige💋💋

babe…

i accidentally sent the team gc the wrong text

*one attachment*

you looked at the phone in confusion and clicked on the picture. it was a screenshot of paige’s group chat, her text were at the top—filthy words that should never be spoken to anyone other than her girlfriend.

you laughed, you couldn’t help it. all you could do was picture paige’s face when she realized—how mortified she must’ve looked. you called her immediately and she picked up after the first ring, her face red with embarrassment. “you know you’re never living that down, right?”

“shut up, it’s not funny.” paige groaned, running her hand down her face. you laughed a little harder and she turned a little more red, glaring at the phone like that was really enough to stop you from laughing. “okay bet, remember this tomorrow night.”

her voice dropped to a low tone and you stopped laughing, your face going still because you knew what she meant. paige raised her brows and smirked, thinking that she had finally silenced you—which she should’ve known better when that mischievous smile came back.

“one second, let me make sure i’m talking to the right person.”

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Crew Headcanon

The Crew has a Crush~

You, it's 🫵🏻

Captain Curly

You walk into the control room, and Curly’s full-on beefing with the ship’s voice assistant

Turns out, he programmed it to be more “human” for fun... welp, the AI's definitely having fun roasting the captain

“I’m the captain! You’re supposed to obey me!”

“Obey? Sir, you can’t even obey a map.”

You're struggling to keep it all together because Curly’s already TOMATO RED from embarrassment (and maybe from the fact that you’re watching)

He tries to play it cool, though

“This is just a glitch. Totally fixable.”

“Yes sir, I'm fixable. What’s not is your love life, tho.”

The crew knows he’s into you, and now even a literal system algorithm's joining in on the teasing

The man's not even surprise when the voice assistance turned a 180° on you and treated you like a queen... he ain't complaining tho

Nurse Anya

You came to the med bay for a papercut

You’re expecting, like, a band-aid or maybe some ointment, but what you got was a full medical intervention

“This could get infected. Let’s disinfect, bandage, and monitor it. For safety.”

“…It’s just a papercut.”

She keeps pulling out stuff from the cabinet:

Medical tape, okay so far

Gauze... a bit...much

Wait, is that... surgical gloves?

You’d think you crawled in with a gunshot wound

When she actually started treating your cut, she goes on a call mute, like she’s concentrating way too hard and you can't reach her

You catch her sneaking glances at you...cute

But what makes it more diabetically adorable is with both your slight accidental touches

She’s immediately short-circuiting, mumbling “sorry, does it hurt? wait, why would it hurt?? oh my gos--”

Girl is fighting for her life over brushing your sleeve while she's fully holding your hand with both hands

Meanwhile, Swansea’s strolling past the med bay, just shaking his head like, “Anya, just tell ‘em you like ‘em already."

Co-pilot Jimmy

You’re helping Jimmy with a minor maintenance task (he totally didn’t ask for your help; you just “showed up,” okay?)

He’s being his usual smug self, but you know he’s flustered because he keeps snapping at you for no reason

“Don’t touch that, you’ll mess it up."

“I literally haven’t even touched anything yet.”

“Well, don’t think about touching it either!”

He’s trying to show off and “teach” you, but keeps fumbling because you’re watching him too closely

The crew’s already onto him. Curly literally walked past once and muttered, “Subtle, Jimmy. Real subtle.”

“SHUT UP, CURLY.”

“…Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I mean--just stay over there. Quietly.”

He’s the human equivalent of a malfunctioning toaster, and it’s both annoying and adorable

Mechanic Swansea (Gruff Dad Energy™)

You pranked Swansea by hiding his tools, thinking he’ll just scowl and grumble like usual...huge, BIG mistake

This man plays chess while you’re playing checkers

The next day, everything you own is missing: Shoes? Gone

Favorite mug? Gone

Your bunk? Covered in engine parts

Swansea doesn’t even deny it, just smirks and chuckles, “Don’t start wars you can’t win, kid.”

But here’s the thing: later, you find your stuff neatly returned with a plate of snacks he definitely didn’t make (he asked Curly "what young'ins like these days" and got a canned latte from the vending machine)

He never forgets to remind you that he doesn't care... sure, Swans, the dad energy definitely NOT palpable

Daisuke (Your #1 Fanboy)

Daisuke decides to “help” you cook one day

By “help,” I mean he’s hyping you up like you’re Gordon Ramsey while also lowkey getting in your way

“Y/N, you’re amazing. Look at how you chop those veggies, Bob Ross for foodies. You should open a restauran- no, actually, you should open a chain.”

“...Dai, the stove's literally barbecuing your shirt."

He panics, trips over his own feet and in one catastrophic motion, takes down a pot of soup, a chair, and somehow a shelf that wasn’t even near him

The room is wrecked. But before anyone can process, he just shoots up from the floor, finger guns and grins “DON’T WORRY. THE SOUP'S FINE.”

At this point, you don’t even question when this whole fanclub started. Probably cause you're the only one slipping him some sweets every once in a while (you're aware of the man's sugar addiction)

Having a personal hype man is great, even if he’s one accident away from taking down the whole ship

The whole crew's in pure chaos. What have you done to them??

Jimmy’s crush is LOUD, flustered, dramatic and side-eyeing Curly and Anya when they're standing within a foot of your proximity

Curly’s out here showing his 'captain privileges', but one compliment and he’s short-circuiting, probably off to “check the crew” (aka scream into the void)

Anya? Combusting at the slightest thank-you for the snacks and meds and also avoiding eye contact like it’s a sport

And Daisuke? Man’s your 24/7 cheerleader, yelling “YOU’RE AMAZING!” at 6 AM while trailing you like a puppy. The rest of the crew’s this close to losing it ’cause he’s stealing their thunder

Everything's unfolding while both you and Swansea watch side by side

The man sighed and muttered something under his breath. He’s got the tiniest smirk, though

“Yeah, these idiots are on you now.”

[callalillywrites]

Henry's Matchmaking Efforts

Written for @flufftober's Fluff Bingo. A3 - Craft Fair.

Spencer Reid Masterlist | Fluff Bingo Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher!Reader

Word Count: 1747

Summary: Henry decides to use his school's craft fair to try and set up his favorite godfather, Spencer, with one of his favorite teachers. His ploy seems to work, too.

Warnings: mentioned illness; awkward Spencer and reader moments; sweet Reader; smitten Spencer; matchmaking menaces - Henry and Will; lmk if I missed any

A/N: This prompt was originally going to be Aaron Hotchner's, but a poll gave it to Spencer instead. I can't say I'm disappointed, either, as this turned out so cute and so fun to write especially with Henry playing his little matchmaking role.

I do not give permission to have my works copied, translated, reposted, or fed into an AI machine.

*****

"Uncle Spence, you made it," Henry shouted, his happiness apparent. He raced between the groups of people, easily dodging elbows and knees, in his pursuit of his destination. That happened to be one Spencer Reid, godfather extraordinaire.

Spencer couldn't help the smile that tugged across his lips, bending down and catching Henry in his arms. "I couldn't miss this when you invited me as sweetly as you did. Where's your mom?"

"Dad came with me. Mom's home with Michael. He's sick."

That pulled Spencer's previous smile into a frown for a moment.

Will, who'd been watching his son and his friend interact, stepped in. "Michael's fine. Just a little stomach bug going around school. Henry had it last week. He's fine to be here. We both are."

It was no secret how Spencer felt about germs, even those involving those he cared about.

Hearing that nothing serious was going on, Spencer allowed himself to relax. His attention returned to Henry as he asked, "So, what should we see first? I don't know that I've been to a craft fair like this one before. You'll have to show me how it's done. I don't want to miss anything."

Henry beamed at the idea of teaching Spencer something. His godfather was so smart, he knew, and it wasn't everyday that Spencer told someone he didn't know something. Knowing just the place they'd start, he grabbed Spencer's hand and tugged him forward.

No words were exchanged as Henry was on a mission, but a look of amusement passed between Spencer and Will.

Spencer didn't have a clue what Henry had in mind first, but he never would've considered the refreshment table set off to one side. Across the banner, he read the school's name that Henry attended. Compared to the other booths set up nearby, he didn't spy any type of signage broadcasting prices.

Henry called out a name, but Spencer couldn't quite make it out over the noise echoing through the large space. He hadn't thought to ever forget the sounds of a gym, and he hadn't really. Just that the memories had managed to fade at the edges a bit.

All Spencer knew was one moment Henry was holding his hand, and the next, he's watching Henry tugging someone from the booth until they stood in front of Spencer. Until you stood in front of him. You wore the sweetest smile Spencer could remember anyone ever wearing. When it flashed towards him, he almost forgot how to breathe. You were breathtaking.

"So, you're the famous Uncle Spence we hear so much about," you said, holding out your hand while also introducing yourself. You retracted your hand just as quickly, but your face never lost its smile. Settling for a small wave, you asked, "Are you enjoying the craft fair, Dr. Reid?"

Spencer's brain refused to work. You had him off-kilter with the knowledge you've shown in the few moments of time you've shared with him. How did you know he didn't like to touch others, especially strangers? How did you know he went by doctor rather than mister?

As if guessing his thoughts, you leaned a bit closer but not too close and said only loud enough for him to hear, "Henry talks about you a lot. We hear about your adventures every week. You're quite impressive. Henry tells us you're a real-life hero."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Spencer stammered.

His cheeks warmed at Henry's praise of him, but more so, at the way you continued to look at him. He could make out the open curiosity you had for him, but he couldn't tell if it was genuine interest one feels for another or if you were merely being polite for a student's sake. A part, bigger than he'd ever admit aloud, of him wanted it to be the former, but his experience almost assured it was the latter.

"Hm, I wouldn't discount yourself too much," you rebutted softly, your eyes leaving his face to inspect the rest of him. He really hoped you wouldn't find him lacking, grateful Hotch and Morgan weren't standing next to him. Will was more than enough to make enough comparisons. You must've liked what you saw because your smile never faltered though your attention shifted to Henry. "Wanna grab your uncle one of the cookies I promised to save just for him?"

Henry nodded and dashed behind the booth's large table.

Spencer could make out the containers from the store you'd bought the cookies. One of them held a couple leftovers that weren't available to others. The others had been set out around the table in a display meant to entice fair-goers until the supply had been depleted.

Henry raced back with the plastic package, handing it to you.

You popped it open and motioned for Spencer to take the cookies. "Only hands that might've grazed them were mine, and I wore gloves after washing my hands thoroughly. Can't be too careful nowadays."

The way you hadn't made him feel weird for his germaphobia endeared you to him all the more. It was the reason he didn't hesitate in picking up the cookies while murmuring his thanks. As politeness dictated, he took a bite and followed it up with, "There are really good."

"They're the best store-bought ones you can find," your eyes sparked with mischief as you added, "but you should really try the ones I bake sometime."

The cookie he'd been chewing lodged itself, causing him to choke.

Will came to his rescue, thumping his back until he could take in normal breaths again.

You, the sweet temptress you were, held out a small cup of lemonade from the booth you manned for the school. Your face had contorted into something more akin to someone feeling shame or apologetic of their actions as you murmured, "I didn't mean for that to sound the way it did. I mean, I do bake some great treats, but I'm not trying to insinuate anything. We are surrounded by families and little ones after all."

Spencer quickly shook his head. Even if he'd only met you, he knew enough from what Henry had told him to know you spoke the truth. Everything about you screamed how much you adored the kids, calling out to the ones you recognized. It didn't matter you held a conversation with him or any other adults that happened along. You had kind words for everyone that passed and encouragement for the few students helping you run the booth.

As if realizing he'd been monopolizing your time, he took a step back.

"I should let you get back to it," he said, grabbing up Henry's hand, "but maybe we can stop by again. See if you have anything left before we head out."

Your smile glowed once more as you nodded. "I'd really like that. Maybe you could tell me what about the booths I can't see, too. I've heard some good things, but I won't really get the chance to explore today."

"It's all weekend, isn't it?" Will asked, surprising both you and Spencer as he hadn't really said anything up until then.

You nodded.

Will continued, "Are you working the booth tomorrow?"

You shook your head.

At your answer, Will's grin came out as he eyed Spencer for a moment before turning back to you, "Then, maybe you and Spencer here could explore the fair together. That is if Spencer here wouldn't mind coming back and seeing it a second time. What do ya say, Spence?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask that of you. That would be too much," you protested, but Spencer was already saying, "Um, yeah, I could do that."

Will clapped. "Great. Now that's settled. Henry, why don't we let them sort themselves out, then we can pick Uncle Spence back up in say another few minutes?"

Henry quickly agreed, taking off for a booth not too far away. It held a bunch of crocheted plush animals that might appeal to his younger brother.

Will followed after him after shooting Spencer a wink and saying, "Don't bungle it now."

When the two of you were alone, you risked touching Spencer's sleeve. His gaze dropped to where your warmth seeped through his thin shirt before you hastily took it away again. He missed it as soon as you did. That surprised him the most.

"Please, don't think I was fishing. I wouldn't want to impose on what's surely limited time to yourself. You don't have to come back tomorrow if you don't want to."

"But what if I want to," Spencer said over your rambling.

It was enough to have you snapping your mouth shut in brief shock. It was also enough to have Spencer wondering if he'd somehow overstepped or misread your earlier possible interest in him.

Only when your smile blossomed once more did he breathe out a soft sigh.

"I'd really like that but only if you really and truly want to."

Spencer allowed his own smile to come out as he said, "I really want to."

The two of you might've continued to smile at each other if one of your students hadn't called out to you.

"I better get back to it, but please, stop by before you leave. We can exchange numbers, then we can secure plans for tomorrow after I'm done for the day." You took a step back toward the booth behind you, but you didn't get far before you added, "I really am glad I got the chance to meet you, Dr. Reid."

Spencer offered his own sentiments, watching as you backed up until you bumped the booth. He bit his lip lest his smile grow wider at how cute you were.

It took another minute before he, too, moved away, intent on catching up with Will and Henry. After all, he had a new job to scope out the best booths to show you tomorrow. Maybe even spend a few minutes considering his options to prolong his time with you tomorrow, including possible dinner plans.

Spencer had known Henry had a special reason to ask him to his school's annual craft fair, but he hadn't counted on you being that reason. He definitely hadn't considered how much you would end up affecting him or the turn of events that took place.

But, he couldn't say he regretted them as he spared a final glance at you and your booth.

Nope, no regrets at all.

[cece693]

mmmore personal bodyguard.. OHhh i love this old man!!! ohh i love tony stark please.. would you make more of male reader and Tony..

I also love that old man. So, I was thinking of what else can he and his hunky bodyguard get up to and then DING! What if the bodyguard takes his job so seriously that he takes a hit meant for Tony and we get an overprotective Iron Man?

Personal Bodyguard Pt. 2

pairing: tony stark x male reader tags: overprotective Tony, Tony has feelings, reader is over it, he was a military man for fucks sake, my man be stressin, reader is set to prove a point, fluff

You stir awake in the gleaming medical bay of Stark Tower, blinking under the fluorescent lights. The drug-induced fog makes your thoughts sluggish, but the unmistakable sting in your shoulder reminds you exactly why you’re here. You shift against the pillows, wincing at the dull throb of pain.

Across the room, a small army of medical personnel are quietly conferring, flipping through charts and checking vitals. You hear the beep of machines and soft murmurs. It’s overwhelming, and you’re not the only one who thinks so. “Everyone out,” comes a familiar, commanding voice. “Now.”

Tony stands at the entrance, hair mussed, tie undone, brow etched with anger and worry. His voice cuts like a knife through the room. The doctors and nurses exchange glances, but none dare contradict him. They file out in a subdued rush—some clearly concerned, but none wanting to challenge Tony Stark when he’s in this mood.

“And before anyone complains,” he adds, glowering, “I’ve got the best AI in the world monitoring him, so scram.”

Moments later, the door slides shut with a quiet hiss. The only sound left is the steady pulse of the heart monitor by your bed and the faint hum of the Tower’s ventilation system. Tony crosses the room in long strides, practically radiating anxiety. He stops at your bedside, eyes darting from the bandages on your shoulder to your face, to the monitors, and back again. It’s like he can’t decide what to focus on—he just wants everything to be okay.

“Are you comfortable?” he demands, reaching to adjust your pillows. “Do you need a different angle? More medication? Less medication? You look like you’re in pain. You should’ve said something—didn’t the doctors tell you to—?”

A weak smile tugs at your lips. “Tony, breathe. I’m all right.” But he’s not listening. He keeps fiddling with the bed’s controls, trying to find the perfect angle, cursing under his breath when the motor jerks your injured shoulder.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling back like he’s burned. “God, I’m screwing this up.”

“Hey,” you say, voice soft, “it’s fine. Really.”

He sighs, frustration etched across his features. “It’s not fine. If it were fine, you wouldn’t be in a hospital bed with a bullet wound.” His hands ball into fists at his sides. “I’ve been over the security tapes a hundred times, trying to figure out how I could’ve—how we could’ve—prevented this.”

The chair next to you squeaks as Tony sinks into it, his exhaustion evident. He rubs a hand over his face, and you see the shadows under his eyes. You suspect he hasn’t slept since the incident. “I can’t—” Tony starts, then stops, words hitching in his throat. “I can’t just sit here and watch you get hurt because of me.”

You let out a careful sigh. Even that small motion makes the pain spike. “Tony,” you say, voice steady despite the discomfort, “it’s not your fault.”

He makes a strangled noise and gestures to your injured shoulder. “Yeah, ’cause getting shot while protecting me is totally just a random coincidence.” He’s spiraling—has been, ever since the bullet meant for him hit you instead. You try to catch his eye, but he’s jittery, like a live wire about to spark.

“Look,” Tony says, voice cracking, “maybe you—maybe you should go. Quit. Or—or I should fire you. I’ll give you a severance package that’ll make CEOs weep with envy. You can do literally anything else. Anything safer.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Fire me?” There’s a stab of hurt under the shock, but you force yourself to stay calm. “That’s one hell of a ‘thank you for taking a bullet for me.’”

He flinches at your words, but his gaze hardens—a brittle, desperate resolve. “If it means you never have to bleed for me again, then yeah. I’ll do it.”

A flurry of emotions churns in your gut—annoyance, exasperation, and a surprising surge of affection for the panicked man in front of you. You carefully push yourself upright, ignoring the twinge of pain, and pin Tony with a firm look. “You can’t do this.”

“Fire you?” He scoffs, but the sound comes out choked. “I can do anything I want, remember? Billionaire with an army of lawyers.” A shaky hand runs through his hair again. “I could relocate you to—oh, I don’t know—Switzerland. Buy you a nice chalet in the Alps or something. You’d never have to see a bullet in your life.”

You can’t stop the small, exasperated laugh that escapes you. “A chalet in the Alps. Fancy. I’ll keep that in mind for retirement.” You pause, letting the joking tone fade. “But until then, no deal.”

He looks incredulous. “Why not?” he demands, voice cracking again. “Why on Earth would you want to keep doing this?” His eyes flick to the bandages peeking from your hospital gown, as if they’re the most damning evidence in the world.

You tilt your head, the ghost of a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Because you hired me to protect you, genius,” you say, letting a bit of humor slip in. “I got shot, yeah, but guess what? You didn’t. Mission accomplished.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “I’m sorry—what part of you being shot is an accomplishment?!”

“The part where the bullet didn’t go through you.” You soften your tone. “Look, Tony, I know you hate that this happened. But injuries are part of the job, and I accepted that risk the moment I signed on.”

He slumps forward, elbows braced on his knees, face buried in his hands. “Well, I didn’t sign on for this.”

You reach out with your good arm and place a hand on his forearm. “Tony, look at me,” you coax. Slowly, he drags his hands away from his face, eyes red-rimmed. “This injury isn’t as bad as it looks. I’ve had worse in basic training.” (A slight exaggeration, but hey, you’d say anything to calm him right now.)

Tony tries to scoff, but it comes out more like a choked laugh. “Basic training had bullet wounds?”

You shrug with your good shoulder. “Not me, specifically, but some guys I knew.” You press on before he can argue. “Point is, I’m okay. Sore, but okay. So, you’re not firing me.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but you fix him with a look. The “don’t even try it” kind that makes even a billionaire genius back down.

“Let me make this clear,” you continue, voice gentler now but unyielding. “I appreciate the concern, really. It means a lot that you care about what happens to me. But this is my choice. I’m not walking away, and you sure as hell aren’t pushing me away. If we keep doing this dance, the only thing you’ll accomplish is driving yourself crazy—and me right along with you.”

He sucks in a breath, eyes glimmering with fresh tears, though he blinks them back rapidly. “I just…I don’t want to see you hurt again. Ever.”

Your lips curl into a small smile. “That’s not how this works, Tony. If I’m with you, there’s always a risk. You’re Iron Man, for crying out loud. Trouble follows you like a lost puppy.”

A strangled half-laugh, half-sob escapes Tony. He scrubs at his face again, clearly embarrassed by his own display of emotion. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, still not meeting your gaze. “I’m…I’m a wreck.”

You inhale, letting your fingers drift from his arm to his hand, lacing them together. “Yeah, you are,” you agree, tone gentle but with a fond edge. “And that’s okay. But you don’t get to fire me. I’m tougher than I look, Stark.”

He starts to argue, but you give his hand a firm squeeze. “Seriously,” you insist, making sure he hears every word. “I’ve been thrown out of planes, shot at, and gone through obstacle courses that make grown men cry. A little bullet in my shoulder? Not enough to scare me away from you.”

A hint of incredulity flashes in his eyes. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

“I do,” you say, jaw set. Before he can argue further, you shift your legs off the bed. Pain flares through your shoulder, but you grit your teeth and push yourself upright. Tony bolts to his feet like you’ve just threatened to jump off a cliff.

“What the hell are you doing?” he demands, voice shrill with alarm. “Hey—easy, easy!”

You wave off his concern. “I’m standing,” you say through clenched teeth, mustering a cocky smirk despite the pain. “You need proof I’m still in one piece? Well, here it is.” Tony’s eyes dart from your unsteady legs to your bandaged shoulder. He looks ready to catch you at any second. But you square your stance, heart pounding, determined to show him you’re stronger than he thinks.

He reaches out, as if to gently guide you back onto the bed, but you seize the moment. Sliding an arm around his waist—ignoring the painful protest in your shoulder—you pull Tony close. Then you press your lips to his in a firm, grounding kiss.

It’s not the smoothest kiss—your balance is off, and you’re pretty sure you’re leaning on him more than intended. But Tony’s body goes stiff for a split second before he melts against you with a quiet, desperate sound at the back of his throat. For those few seconds, the throbbing in your shoulder blurs into the background. All that matters is Tony’s warmth, the faint scent of cologne, and the taste of desperation on his lips.

When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless. One of his hands is splayed across your lower back, the other hovering near your bandage as though he’s too scared to touch it. “You idiot,” he breathes, forehead pressed to yours. “You should be resting.”

“Probably,” you admit, wincing slightly as you shift your arm. “But you needed to see I’m still here. Really here.”

He draws in a ragged breath, eyes flicking over your face. “I see you,” he murmurs, voice tight with lingering fear. “But if you pass out, I’m going to strap you to that bed myself, understand?”

You huff a faint laugh. “Sounds kinky.”

A brief spark of amusement flashes in his eyes, followed by relief. “God, I hate you,” he jokes, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t ever do that again.”

You card your fingers through his hair, feeling how tense he still is. “Can’t make promises, boss. Besides…” You pull back just enough to meet his gaze. “I’d do it all over again if it meant keeping you safe.”

He exhales shakily, and the hand on your back tightens. “You’re insane.”

“Probably,” you concede. “But you love me anyway.”

A hesitant, watery smile curves across his lips. “Yeah,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours. “I really do.”

[heyclickadee]

So, first off I wanted to say that I mostly agree with all of your points, and that the priorities on AI do need to shift somewhat. The one point I have a slight niggle with, though, is the point that image generators are mostly going to be used to replace the kind of art no one wants to do and that no one would do if they didn’t need the money to pay for it. I currently work for a medical animation company, but what I hope to eventually do is to either be a storyboard artist or a creature artist. It’s not fine art, it’s never going in a gallery, but if someone told me I’d get to sketch out camera angles and character acting or design funky looking monsters all day for the rest of my career? I’d be delighted. It’s the kind of art I love to do.

And, of course, image generators aren’t very good at either of those things. They have no consistency or narrative, like you said, never mind a specific (and sometimes personal) acting choices, all of which you need for good storyboards; and even though image generators are fairly good at rendering and aping styles, they’re actually terrible at design. So, no, an image generator can’t realistically replace either a good storyboard artist or a creature artist. The problem is that a lot of executives who don’t know the first thing about visual art think they can, and that has the potential to end up looking like the same situation. If I ever got to do either of the art jobs I really want to do, but I was told that I had to do it by putting prompts into a computer and letting an image generator do it for me, I would quit that job. Immediately. I’d maybe even cut the power to the air conditioner that cools the server room on the way out. And then, if I managed to avoid jail time for doing that, I’d go try to find a factory job or something and try to draw in my spare time or something, because I’m honestly not good for much else that’ll put food on the table. Nothing I prompted an image generator to do would be something I did or something I imagined. I wouldn’t really even have that much input; it’d be an aggregate of whatever it can find that’d seem to fulfill the prompts, and a lifetime of doing that, without exaggeration, would make me want to kill myself.

Im not opposed to AI as a tool to make artists life easier. There’s a place for that. And I’m not really that afraid of losing either my current job or any jobs I want to have in the future to AI; I’m afraid of losing the parts of it that make it worth doing at all. Automation can be good, but it can also separate artists from their work, and the threat of AI (more than the reality) has the potential to discourage people from ever learning to draw or sculpt or whatever at all. For every art job that seems soulless, there’s probably at least one artist out there who actually really enjoys it and who would probably still choose to do it even if needing money to live wasn’t a consideration.

It isn’t the biggest issue with AI, like you said. There’s the environmental issues, the fact that it relies heavily on underpaid labor, largely in the global south, to even function, the way it sorts resumes, and so, so much else that matters a lot more.

Anyway, sorry for butting in. I just wanted to share my two cents on that one point.

i've been seeing ai takes that i actually agree with and have been saying for months get notes so i want to throw my hat into the ring.

so i think there are two main distinct problems with "ai," which exist kind of in opposition to each other. the first happens when ai is good at what it's supposed to do, and the second happens when it's bad at it.

the first is well-exemplified by ai visual art. now, there are a lot of arguments about the quality of ai visual art, about how it's soulless, or cliche, or whatever, and to those i say: do you think ai art is going to be replacing monet and picasso? do you think those pieces are going in museums? no. they are going to be replacing soulless dreck like corporate logos, the sprites for low-rent edugames, and book covers with that stupid cartoon art style made in canva. the kind of art that everyone thinks of as soulless and worthless anyway. the kind of art that keeps people with art degrees actually employed.

this is a problem of automation. while ai art certainly has its flaws and failings, the main issue with it is that it's good enough to replace crap art that no one does by choice. which is a problem of capitalism. in a society where people don't have to sell their labor to survive, machines performing labor more efficiently so humans don't have to is a boon! this is i think more obviously true for, like, manufacturing than for art - nobody wants to be the guy putting eyelets in shoes all day, and everybody needs shoes, whereas a lot of people want to draw their whole lives, and nobody needs visual art (not the way they need shoes) - but i think that it's still true that in a perfect world, ai art would be a net boon, because giving people without the skill to actually draw the ability to visualize the things they see inside their head is... good? wider access to beauty and the ability to create it is good? it's not necessary, it's not vital, but it is cool. the issue is that we live in a society where that also takes food out of people's mouths.

but the second problem is the much scarier one, imo, and it's what happens when ai is bad. in the current discourse, that's exemplified by chatgpt and other large language models. as much hand-wringing as there has been about chatgpt replacing writers, it's much worse at imitating human-written text than, say, midjourney is at imitating human-made art. it can imitate style well, which means that it can successfully replace text that has no meaningful semantic content - cover letters, online ads, clickbait articles, the kind of stuff that says nothing and exists to exist. but because it can't evaluate what's true, or even keep straight what it said thirty seconds ago, it can't meaningfully replace a human writer. it will honestly probably never be able to unless they change how they train it, because the way LLMs work is so antithetical to how language and writing actually works.

the issue is that people think it can. which means they use it to do stuff it's not equipped for. at best, what you end up with is a lot of very poorly written children's books selling on amazon for $3. this is a shitty scam, but is mostly harmless. the behind the bastards episode on this has a pretty solid description of what that looks like right now, although they also do a lot of pretty pointless fearmongering about the death of art and the death of media literacy and saving the children. (incidentally, the "comics" described demonstrate the ways in which ai art has the same weaknesses as ai text - both are incapable of consistency or narrative. it's just that visual art doesn't necessarily need those things to be useful as art, and text (often) does). like, overall, the existence of these kids book scams are bad? but they're a gnat bite.

to find the worst case scenario of LLM misuse, you don't even have to leave the amazon kindle section. you don't even have to stop looking at scam books. all you have to do is change from looking at kids books to foraging guides. i'm not exaggerating when i say that in terms of texts whose factuality has direct consequences, foraging guides are up there with building safety regulations. if a foraging guide has incorrect information in it, people who use that foraging guide will die. that's all there is to it. there is no antidote to amanita phalloides poisoning, only supportive care, and even if you survive, you will need a liver transplant.

the problem here is that sometimes it's important for text to be factually accurate. openart isn't marketed as photographic software, and even though people do use it to lie, they have also been using photoshop to do that for decades, and before that it was scissors and paintbrushes. chatgpt and its ilk are sometimes marketed as fact-finding software, search engine assistants and writing assistants. and this is dangerous. because while people have been lying intentionally for decades, the level of misinformation potentially provided by chatgpt is unprecedented. and then there are people like the foraging book scammers who aren't lying on purpose, but rather not caring about the truth content of their output. obviously this happens in real life - the kids book scam i mentioned earlier is just an update of a non-ai scam involving ghostwriters - but it's much easier to pull off, and unlike lying for personal gain, which will always happen no matter how difficult it is, lying out of laziness is motivated by, well, the ease of the lie.* if it takes fifteen minutes and a chatgpt account to pump out fake foraging books for a quick buck, people will do it.

*also part of this is how easy it is to make things look like high effort professional content - people who are lying out of laziness often do it in ways that are obviously identifiable, and LLMs might make it easier to pass basic professionalism scans.

and honestly i don't think LLMs are the biggest problem that machine learning/ai creates here. while the ai foraging books are, well, really, really bad, most of the problem content generated by chatgpt is more on the level of scam children's books. the entire time that the internet has been shitting itself about ai art and LLM's i've been pulling my hair out about the kinds of priorities people have, because corporations have been using ai to sort the resumes of job applicants for years, and it turns out the ai is racist. there are all sorts of ways machine learning algorithms have been integrated into daily life over the past decade: predictive policing, self-driving cars, and even the youtube algorithm. and all of these are much more dangerous (in most cases) than chatgpt. it makes me insane that just because ai art and LLMs happen to touch on things that most internet users are familiar with the working of, people are freaking out about it because it's the death of art or whatever, when they should have been freaking out about the robot telling the cops to kick people's faces in.

(not to mention the environmental impact of all this crap.)

[https-bakugo]

Chapter 02.

♡ twenty three

♡ rivals to lovers / fake dating

♡ cw / tw : cussing. denial of feelings (this will go on for a bit)

“So.” Bakugo sighed, meeting your eyes.

“So.” You echoed, averting your gaze.

“You two both need outfits for the gala.” Tommie said pointedly. “Mel and I-” ‘Bakugo’s PR manager’ you recalled, she was there when you had grabbed the man and almost began fist fighting with him in his office, “Have decided that you should both be wearing matching outfits.” 

The mere thought of wearing anything matching with the likes of Bakugo has you wanting to claw your own arms off. Clearly Bakugo is more composed than you since he just inhales sharply and rubs his forehead with his hand.

“Right… so… where are we getting these outfits done up exactly?” Bakugo sighed, looking at Tommie who waved his hand absentmindedly at the pro’s face.

“Oh y'know… Mitsuki… Bakugo…”

“Are you FUCKING-”

Bakugo ran a hand across his face and he groaned. He tossed his phone across his bed, watching it hit against his bedside lamp and stop moving on his bedside table. Kirishima’s text glared at him from behind his eyelids.

‘Your crush on them.’

He was being ridiculous. That’s right. All of the bright red hair dye has seeped into his skull and started fucking around with his brain cells. He didn’t have a crush on anyone, he didn’t fucking have time for that shit anyways.

In his very humble and not at all biased opinion, love was: 

A waste of time.

Overrated.

Not in Bakugo's best interests.

Not in Bakugo’s plan to become the number one hero.

Too much effort.

Too much work to maintain.

Could potentially cause emotional turmoil.

Usually have unrealistic expectations.

So why did the idea of being in love with you have such an affect on him? It didn’t make any sense. He was probably just hungry or tired or- y'know what it didn’t matter much anyways. He had shit to do, stuff to get done. Shit on his plate he needed to deal with.

Bakugo sat up from his seat on the bed, fist bunching up the sheets around him. He looked longingly at the suit being hung up in his closet. 

This is going to be one long fucking month.

-> Masterlist

taglist [OPEN] : @luvseraphh - @tlissablr - @havemyheartt - @smelliottle - @sakurayashiro - @peachesvault - @qyuin - @kaidostwin - @wonubby - @moochiwoochi - @coldnightshark - @strawberry-wine320 - @kalulakunundrum

© HTTPS-BAKUGO. Do not steal, copy or use any of my work for AI. Legal action will take place if caught.

[thanook]

right so i was fucking around with the tumblr api and decided to investigate the possibility of automating my blog expansion plans. the idea was to find out who the people i reblog from get their reblogs from, and follow those people if i dont already. while experimenting with this (fairly suboptimal and indefinitely postponned) possibility, i realized that, knowing that these posts are already coming from cool people, i could determine with surprising certainty if i should reblog a post or not by looking for keywords within the post and evaluating the additions made in the notes as well as its overall structure, without the use of ai systems, just with bad ducktape scripting, just like god intended.

knowing this, arose the possibility for me to create a fairly accurate albeit sanitized clone of my blog, which would operate automatically (with no outside feedback other than me fixxing the code with my own bare hands), collecting and evaluating posts on a daily cycle (depending on api limits). it will have a dashboard composed of the people i already follow, removing anyone who wasnt active in over two months, and will use some spaghetti to expand from that in the future. initially, it will reblog anything it deems safe and good enough, but if possible, i plan in stopping it from reblogging anything i reblog with @thanook and pushing it to the daily blog limit, to spice things up. if this projects proves to actually be a good idea, i will make plans to host it properly, and improve its DIRT (Do I Reblog This) evaluation, which will be barebones for the first few post batches. still figuring this out, but im using this as a learning experience, which will force me to finish the project in a forgivable state (unlike DIPLOMATA and Goblinheimer, which wont see the light of day (there's your closure, happy now?)).

this project, however, lacks a name. i can put toghether a quick phtoshop for the pfp, ill probably figure out a banner in time and i already have a few ideas for a colorscheme, but im pretty dead of a decent name.

so, yall got anything?

[poolverine-holiday-big-bang]

Poolverine Holiday Big Bang Sign Ups

Hello friends, the interest in this has been off the charts, which makes me unbelievably happy! The fact people are interested in an event I want to run literally is such a good feeling. So, allow me to open sign-ups officially! Keep in mind, this will be my first time running an event, so if you have questions or concerns, message this blog or my main blog. Click the title of this post to sign-up now!

Current Stage: Sign-ups open~

The (tentative) timeline:

Sign-ups begin: June 13th Sign-ups close: July 18th Fic ideas submitted by: August 1st Claims begin: August 5th Claims close: August 20th Teams decided: August 25th Check-ins: September 15th, October 13th, November 10th Posting date range: November 21st through December 31st All pieces should be posted before the start of 2026~!

FAQ, rules, and other info below the cut! It got long, but it should have all the answers you need. If anything isn't answered, once again, message me on this account or on any other social media!

People on this blog are: Noa (event runner): @ufohoaxes Rowan (event helper): @k1ng-r0wan Zai (event helper): @jabberpool Garnish (event helper): @that-final-garnish

FAQ

Q: What is a big bang? A: A big bang is a collaborative event between artists and writers! Wristers submit a fic idea and then artists get the chance to pick ideas they want to work on. See the rules for more specifics on how that works.

Q: Who can partake in this event? A: Anyone! Beginner artists or newbie writers to veteran creators who've done this before. Any and all talents are welcome to join, the more the merrier!

Q: How do I join? A: Once sign-ups officially close, I will reach out to everyone who filled out the form personally with a link to the Discord server created specifically for this event. Be sure you've allowed messages from people who don't follow you when that time comes so you don't miss the invite~!

Q: What happens after I join the server? A: You'll be assigned accordingly, as either a writer, artist, or beta. You'll be free to chat amongst each other in the server until pairings are created! Once you have your partner, you're free to work on your piece. You'll have your own channel in the server to communicate, that only you and your partner will have access to. Please do not discuss your pieces outside of the server!

Q: Is NSFW stuff allowed? A: Yes! You have the choice to draw NSFW pieces or write NSFW fics, there will be a question about if you're 18+ when the sign-ups do open. All ages are allowed, but everyone will be sorted accordingly when we get to that point. If you're worried something you might write might not be allowed, just send me a message!

Q: Can I be both an artist and a writer? A: Truthfully, I wouldn't mind if you were both! But it will depend on the answers in the sign-up form for me to determine this.

Q: What's the theme? A: Of course! The theme! The theme is holidays. Any holiday, any celebration, even the most obscure ones. National donut day? Sure! Talk like a pirate day? Absolutely. Put Barbie in a blender day? If that's what you choose, so be it! Just make it's a concept you're happy with.

Rules

1.) First and foremost, no AI allowed. None. Zip. Zilch. Zero. If you're caught using AI, you will be banned from the event.

2.) Writers have a 5,000 word minimum. Please include the holiday you chose in the fic idea submission! You can go above that, that's just the very least amount of words. If this doesn't work for you, or if your fic is 4,620 words, send me a message and we'll work it out! I'm here to help you out, so don't be afraid to message me on any social media!

3.) Artists have a one fully finished art piece minimum. If you're willing to do more than one piece, you might be tasked with more. Just fill out the form accordingly.

4.) Poolverine is the main focus here, however, Spideypoolverine, Cablepoolverine, etc are allowed! As long as Poolverine is in there somewhere, it's totally good to go!

5.) You will be asked to include tags when your fic submission is, well, submitted! If you're worried something might not be okay to write about (such as a specific kink or theme), the most likely answer is yes. I will let you know if what you submit to write crosses a line, but I sincerely doubt that will happen. Just message me if you're concerned.

6.) For claims, how it will work is artists will be given all the summaries of the fic submissions, they will pick their top 5, and from there, it will be randomized which one you get. This way, it's not first come first serve, and it's fair to people in other timezones.

7.) Platonic works are okay as well, it doesn't have to be romantic if you don't want it to be! Just be sure to have fun.

Miscellaneous Stuff!

This is my first time running an event, and if this goes well, I'm open to running more events. I will listen to all concerns, questions, and comments intently. Please feel free to reach out to me on ANY social media, they're all listed on shinycelebi.carrd.co, I will answer everything accordingly. This event is run with fun as the main goal, and any feelings I have towards things have ZERO impact or influence on how I will run it. Thank you for your interest, and thank you for allowing me to do this

Noa ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

[mcu-coworkers]

Jealousy

Summary: Miguel can't seem to get his way and for reasons he couldn't believe.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: None(sneaky Miguel)

A/n: here is pt.3 I hope you guys enjoy I will be giving a pt.4 which will be the final part if anyone would like to be tagged just let me know and I'll be happy to! I hope I got every one who wanted to be tagged in Pt.3 there were so many of you and I just want to sat thank you from the bottom of my heart for loving my story! I hope you guys enjoy!xx

Tags list: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @m4zapan @luciiferian @stinygirl009 @anonymoussomebody345 @watamoteru @smolrain08 @amberpanda99 @hantheconqueror @mhm-ok-sure @chuckle-nuts. @a-helpless-romantic @witchofwhimsey @rin-matsuoka345-blog @cherripunch26 @anneliese500 @theleftkittycollection @ok-boke @nanushkka @gugggu6gvai @joestarbitch @distractionforyourthoughts @tanchosanke @lokiseason @hao-ming-8 @sport-lova @munixumai @capybaraaa . @dearrdarlingg @riddle-me-im-sirius @melovetitties @liyanahelena @bat1212 @christinesdemoness1958 @musicpookie @luujjvi @ilovejeansosomuch @m0chac0ffee @perrierbottleofproblems @zayxcc @shyshyshy-19 @futuristicpandakid @lilyevans1

Parts: One Two Three^ Four

Credits to the owner:)^

It had been quite a few months since you removed yourself from the spider society.

You thought that in doing so you lost your friends but Pete, Hobbie, and Gwen all stuck by your side and visited you every now and then.

Not all at once, you didn't want Miguel to figure out that they were coming to you and yell at them for it or worse, come too.

In that aspect everything was great.

When it came to your healing journey, you had good days and bad days.

Or more like bad nights.

During the day you kept busy working in your world's Alchemax, and at night you dealt with spider business which was slow this time around.

This is when you found yourself thinking about him.

The silence of the city only made your thoughts louder and all they reminded you of was Miguel.

But you hadn't given up on your promise to yourself, you would move on.

And then you decided to get a dog.

He was the best choice you could have made, your sweet little milo.

May Day absolutely loved him, she wanted to bring him to her birthday party but to be honest you didn't even know if you’d be taking yourself.

Pete didn't want to hide anything from you so he told you as soon as he found out that Miguel actually agreed to not just let him throw her party at HQ but go to it as well.

Risking him speaking to you and ruining all of your growth was not in your plans.

You had to be honest with yourself, if Miguel spoke to you with the slightest warth you knew you’d break so for your own sake staying away from him was best.

So, that's where you were with all of this, sitting on a rooftop enjoying a slice of pizza thinking about whether you should show up tomorrow or not.

Deciding to call it a night on saving the city you swung home looking forward to Milo’s greeting cuddles.

Back at HQ Miguel watched as everyone scurried to put together the decorations for May Day's birthday.

The chaos was loud and he almost regretted agreeing to it.

“Ay dios.” he mumbled as he walked past Gwen and Hobbie pretending they were there.

“So you think she’ll come? May Day is her favorite spider. She wouldn't miss it, right?” he heard Gwen say.

Suddenly he froze.

“There is a chance if you ask me.  I   believe in her.” Hobbie replied webbing up the sign he was putting on the wall, much easier than tape.

Miguel began walking again hoping no one would notice how he stopped to listen in on the conversation.

Walking into his office space he called for Lyla, “Give me the list of spiders coming to this party.” he said pulling up his screens.

“But boss, that's hundreds?” she asked confused but the request.

“That's fine, just give it to me, Please.” he asked, growing impatient with his AI.

“Alright calm down here it is, Who are we looking for anyways?” she said, sliding it over to him.

“No one, just making sure its a safe list.” he said looking over his shoulder.

Bles mary janes heart for added the yes, no and maybe option it made him easier to see who was actually coming.

All the names had a yes except for one, one big red MAYBE and it was next to yours.

Shoulders dropping in slight disappointment he let out a sigh.

These past months he’d been gloomy.

The only time he perked up was at the mention of your name, but sadly that's as close he got to you these days.

He found out that Pete, Hobbie, Gwen and even fucking Miles anomaly Morales snuck off to see you.

He was jealous.

He hated that you let them into your life.

Each time they came back laughing about something you said, he was jealous.

Everytime they mentioned a fun moment you shared, he was burning in jealousy.

It made him sick. 

His blood boiled knowing someone else was making you laugh when he just wanted to have you to himself.

He liked it when you spent hours in his office “helping him” with reports.

He only ever gave you simple tasks just to keep you at his side.

To watch your face when you were focused on the footage, the way you bite your lip when you think you're getting close. 

The way you kept eye contact and showed interest in whatever it was he said made him think about other things you could do together whilst keeping eye contact.

God, you drove him insane in the best way.

But not having you close like that was driving him insane in the worst way.

Spiders voluntarily left him alone now not wanting to cross him on a bad which now was very frequent.

The only reason he stuck around at the end of team briefings was to see if he’d hear any news on you.

He didn't think anyone noticed his intent, But then there was Jess always on his six.

She knew from day one that you had fallen, but oh was he gonna fall harder and he did.

She saw the way he searched for you in a room, how he’d ask you and only you to help him on reports.

Nothing went past her.

“Did a villain sneak onto the list?” she said, creeping up behind him.

Quickly removing the screen he looked over his shoulder letting out a simple shrug to answer her.

“Just want to see who   I‘ll be dealing with for the evening.” he said trying to cover up his annoyance.

“Anyone stand out?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope. All good.” he said standing up, “  I‘ll see you tomorrow Jess, get some rest.” he said leaving his office.

Smiling to herself, Jess knew he was slowly breaking down. 

All it would take to finish the job was see you.

She knew you had RSVP’d to come yesterday but she made Lyla change it just to confirm her suspicions further.

And he did just that.

----

Mentally preparing yourself for today was the hardest part.

You planned out your evening.

Go in, greet everyone, stick to Hobbie, Gwen and Miles, hold May Day, and then make the excuse that Milo had an accident and you had to get back home.

A solid plan.

Suddenly a portal opened and in walked Hobbie, “My lady.” he greeted extending an arm.

Taking his hand you stood up, “Oh, one sec.” you said as you sent a signal activating your suit.

“Woaahhh the new suit is wicked.” he said watching it go on.

“It's nano tech, you like it?” you said as it reached up to your neck before stopping. 

“Killin it, as always.” he said before walking into the portal.

Well, here goes nothing.

“Be good Milo, Mommy will be home soon.” you said, patting his sleepy head before walking in.

Deep breath, here goes nothing.

Walking in you put on your brightest smile.

“Hey! There she is and get a look at this suit, this new?  I   like it!” Peter yelled, taking your hand and spinning you.

“Hey guys! Nice to see everyone again, Miles nice to meet you.” you said laughing.

“Nice to meet you, very nice lady, thank you for not hunting me down.” he said, shaking your hand viciously.

Laughing at your inside joke you pulled him in for a hug secretly taking a peak over his shoulder.

You could feel his stare on you, you just didn't know from where.

The party went on as planned, you stayed cautious, had  a good time with your friends and held May Day until she eventually fell asleep.

Everyone told you that you had a gentle way when it came to kids so falling asleep just came to them naturally.

Taking that as your sign to leave you handed her over to Mary Jane and went to go look for Hobbie.

“Hey, has anyone seen Hobbie?” you asked not being able to find him.

“Rooftop, girly pop.” you heard Jess say as she hugged you goodbye.

“Oh great, we can open a portal there. Bye guys guess  I‘ll  see you around.” you said waving to the rest of the spiders.

Making your way up you looked around the rooftop to find it empty.

Huh. Maybe he went for a swing. You thought looking over the city.

He’d been told a couple times not to but that only made him do it more.

“He’s not here.” you heard behind you. Well shit.

“Thanks Jess.” you heard making you chuckle to yourself.

Of course.

“Well then it makes no use to stay up here.” you said turning to walk away.

“Wait, just give me a second.” he said, reaching out for you.

“One. Welp there is it and look I've given you five extra just by standing here.” you said sarcastically.

Trying to leave once more he actually Physically got in your way this time.

“Please.” he said trying to get you to look at him and you could've sworn you heard sincerity in there.

“Fine. talk.” you said crossing you arms sitting on the ledge trying to create some distance.

“ I   am sorry,” he blurted out.

“ I   don't forgive you. We done here? Great.” you said standing up ready to bee line it for the door.

Your tactics were failing you and your front could only last for so long.

“No no wait just-” he was cut off  by a beeping sound coming from your suit.

It was your alarm for Milo’s dinner time.

Gasping you stood up from where you sat.

“Oh Milo.” you said turning off the alarm.

“What? Who the fuck is Milo?” he said anger began to rise up in his chest.

“Really wish we could finish this but  I‘m late to a very important dinner with someone who does respect me, so excuse me.” you said finally getting past him.

Stunned  by your response he watched you walk past him.

Who in the actual fuck was Milo and what rights did he have over you?

Following you back into the party he watched as you asked Pete to get you back home.

“Oh yeah sure, How's Milo by the way?” he asked while opening the portal.

Again with this fucking Milo.

“Oh he's really great, miss him more every second we're apart.” you said, putting your hands on your hips.

Time was moving real slow right about now.

But for Miguel it was moving a little too fast, he didn't want you to get back to Milo. 

He wanted you here, patching things up with him.

“Gotta love Milo am  I   right? May Day sure does.” he said, quickly shutting up when he realized Miguel was still there.

“Well thanks for the portal, tell Mj the party was great, take care pete.” you said hugging him goodbye.

Just as you are about to be free Miguel grabs your hand.

“Will you come back, Please?” he asked, the desperation in his voice could be heard from miles away.

“ I   don't think so Miguel,  it took me a while to realize that there was nothing wrong with me. And Milo helped with that even if it's just been a couple of months and  I‘m still getting the hang of things. He loves me for it and he needs me.” you said, smiling at the thought of your sweet little furbaby.

Standing up straight Miguel let your arm go, “Lucky Milo.” was all he said before you took it as your queue to leave.

Defeated by the night's outcome he went back into his office and let out some frustration on the nearest machine.

There it was again, feeling sick of jealousy.

Someone else had your attention, time and love.

And all he had was your rejection.

At this point in time Miguel wished he was anybody else other than himself.

And just like that jealousy started following him wherever he went, never letting him go.

All because of some Milo.

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[shmreduplication]

decided to make a separate post rather than make a v long tangent on this post (which is good and you should read it, tldr is an AI model was supposed to identify wolves vs dogs but every picture of a wolf was in a snowy landscape so the AI's logic was snow=>that animal is a wolf not a dog)

I feel I'm saying this constantly that the phrase "garbage in, garbage out" needs to become MUCH more common because imo it needs to be used in literally every conversation about AI

here's the wikipedia article about it, note that even CHARLES BABBAGE (v important guy in computer history, if you know Alan Turing's name because of computer history then you should learn Charles Babbage's name next) was aware of the phenomena. I think it's interesting that the history of the phrase is from computer history because it's really more of a statistics problem than a computer problem. AI is a statistics+computer problem so I guess it doesn't really matter

anyway the point is if you have bad data then you can only produce bad data analysis. Garbage [data] in, garbage [data analysis and decision-making that's based on it] out. Pictures of wolves in snow in, snow used as the determining factor between wolves and dogs out. Pictures of sheep in fields in, every field labeled as having sheep out. Pictures of pornography in, flagging desert and sandy landscapes as porn out. Racist policing in, racist policing out.

people who make AI models that pull indiscriminately from the entire internet think they're avoiding GIGO because surely the internet has the entirety of human knowledge contained in it? Obviously not, for two reasons: 1. human knowledge contains the information that wolves exist regardless of proximity to snow but that fact is so obvious and benign that it is possible it was never interesting enough for anyone to put onto the internet before this very post, and 2. it only takes one snowless picture of a wolf on the internet to fulfill the idear of "all human knowledge is on the internet" and those (apparently v few) pictures can be completely overwhelmed by the (apparently abundant) pictures of wolves in snow to the point that an AI trained from the internet will still prioritize snow in determining if a picture has a wolf or dog. This is a lot of words to say that the internet is garbage so anything trained from it will only produce garbage

anyway uh. those articles are from 2018 and 2020 so extremely outdated as far as tech news goes so thanks OP for letting me know that this specific kind of landscape-determines-animal kind of AI silliness is still happening because the sheep-fields thing is one of my favorite tech stories and i've told a lot of people about it

oh wait one more thing: Psychology has a related concept, WEIRD Bias, which is about how the majority of psych research is done on people who are Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich, and Democratic so we can't assume conclusions made from that research is applicable to people who fall outside of that acronym. Not exactly a GIGO situation because the conclusions can still be accurate but it definitely still becomes "garbage out" if the diversity of the sample population is not considered and the conclusions are applied universally

[zadle]

How to replace Microsoft and support the BDS boycott

reach out to your tech friends about replacing windows with an alternative operating system, such as linux or a *BSD OS. if you decide to do this on your own, make sure to back up your hard drive first. windows profits off your usage data (even if you never paid for it) and can use it to train their AI, which is arming israel.

if your work or school requires you to acquire windows, look up massgrave (it's very simple to activate windows).

duckduckgo is just microsoft's bing in a trench coat. they have made a secret exception for microsoft's tracking services in the past. check out Searx instances, or try alternative indie web search engines such as Marginalia or Wiby.

if you're using microsoft's outlook for email, consider Tuta or Disroot (avoid proton; it's all privacy theatre that's only somewhat better than other email providers, and the CEO has voiced support for trump).

don't pay to watch the minecraft movie that's coming out. i've heard it's incredibly underwhelming anyway.

insist on playing minecraft but don't want to give microsoft money? avoid bedrock edition. check out UltimMC if you need a way to acquire java edition and you don't own it. if you're a server operator, you can set your server to offline mode in server.properties which allows people who acquire minecraft the cool way to connect, but this should be paired with a server-side authentication plugin/mod for safety reasons (in offline mode, anyone can log in with any username, including a whitelisted or operator username, and there are bots scanning for servers to grief). don't use realms. disable telemetry with mods if you can.

get a vpn (i recommend airvpn for p2p connections) and download qBittorrent. in case you're interested in media published by microsoft. or just in general. learn to torrent, and make sure all your torrent traffic goes through your vpn service.

if you're using microsoft edge, consider switching to an alternative browser such as LibreWolf (basically firefox with better privacy and security out of the box; mozilla is not the innocent robin hood figure they're made out to be) or Ungoogled-Chromium (chromium without the google spyware; unfortunately lacks auto-update in most cases).

if you're using microsoft's AI for anything, consider getting a library card instead.

[ph6ntomm]

HARRY’S HOUSE MASTERLIST

── .✦ IN WHICH … the desire for a relationship cannot be denied any longer.

── .✦ DISCLAIMER … this is purely fictional. this does not depict the reality of anyone or anything. with that being said, please do not use my work against anyone, nor should you apply it to any real life situations.

── .✦ DO NOT … copy, translate, repost, or put my work into ai.

── .✦ WARNINGS … unedited work bc i’m nothing if not lazy when it comes to writing, mentions of alcohol/drinking, very little and awkward dialogue (sorry😭), a kiss, and fluff lol

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

MUSIC FOR A SUSHI RESTAURANT

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the upbeat music bumped loudly in the backyard of the house. the air was humid, filled with the smell of alcohol and the sounds of people chatting amongst themselves.

quinn stared at you from across the lawn, in a way that others would see as possibly a little weird, but he paid no mind to it. he was nursing the same beer he’d had for the past hour or so. he was only slowly taking sips of it, opting to observe the view across from him.

you were laughing at something jack said, your arm clutching your stomach to keep from completely doubling over. he thought you looked absolutely breathtaking, so he downed the rest of his beer and made his way over to you.

jack took notice to his brothers actions and smiled at you and mumbled something along the lines of leaving you two alone and then decided to walk away and go chat with luke, who was with some of his old friends.

quinn walked with a little pep in his step, excited to be in your presence, and the alcohol giving him some unforeseen courage. he didn’t know if it was the buzz from the alcohol he had previously consumed or what, but he felt a surge of confidence overcome him.

you looked his way with cheerful eyes as he approached you, anticipation building in your chest. a smile quickly overtook your face. it was hard not to smile when he looked like that. a black t-shirt that hugged his biceps perfectly, a casual pair of blue jeans that slid just slightly over the top of his white sneakers, tousled hair that had made it obvious he had been running his hand through it, and a light smirk that could uplift the worst of days.

yeah, if anyone were to ask you, he was perfect.

you leaned back on your elbows against the bar, awaiting the eldest of the brothers arrival. everything seemed to move in slow motion, the way he walked to you, the bustling crowd, even the music seemed to slow down when you looked at him. when he finally got to you, he turned around like he was inspecting the crowd, but in all reality you knew he wasn’t. you knew he didn’t care about the crowd or the people who were standing in it.

“big crowd, huh?” he questioned teasingly. you hummed a sound of agreement as you nodded and turned to take a sip of your drink that made your nose scrunch, some nasty concoction of alcoholic drinks that didn’t really pique your interest, but to have any courage to at least attempt to flirt with the man you’d been crushing on for what feels like forever, you’d need something strong in your system to do so.

“i didn’t think parties were really your thing,” you said to him after a beat of silence. quinn shrugged slightly, leaning in to hear you better over the music. the slight gesture made your heart stop and then speed up. “they aren’t,” he started. “but i really had nothing better to do tonight anyways.” you nodded stiffly in reply, not really being sure what to say to that.

“wanna leave with me? i’m kinda bored of this place anyways.” quinn offered, to which you agreed with quickly. you downed the rest of your drink and left the cup for someone else to pick up. quinn grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowd. you suddenly took notice of how clammy your hands felt, hoping he would just brush it off on the hot, seemingly rising temperature of the crowded yard. he led you to the gate and opened it with his unoccupied hand, still holding yours tightly in his other.

once you were out, he led you to his car, and opened the door for you, and only then did he drop your hand from his own. the gesture made you blush, and you hoped that the dark hid it. based on quinn’s lack of reaction to it, you assumed that luck was on your side. he closed the car door and jogged over to the driver side. you took the few seconds alone to take a deep breath and collect your thoughts.

he got into the car and started it. the radio blared out some random song he had been listening to before. he quickly moved to turn it down, his cheeks becoming a dusty pink under the silvery moonlight. you let out a laugh, quickly covering your mouth with the back of your hand as he closed his mouth and tried not to laugh, but ultimately failing as a light chuckle came out. “sorry about that..” he said after brief moment. “it’s alright, its happens.” you replied to him.

he pulled out of the driveway and started down the road, seemingly to back to the house, but instead took a last minute turn towards the park that wasn’t too far away.

you turned to him, confusion etched across your face. he only glanced over at you briefly, a smirk adorning his face as he turned and continued to look forward at the road ahead.

he pulled into the gravelly parking lot and turns the car off before turning to you. “let’s go for a walk?” he said softly with a look of innocence, like he totally didn’t just trick you into thinking the night was over. you didn’t reply, but instead smiled lightly and opened your door and climbed out and slammed the door harder than intended. you flinched at the sound, but quinn didn’t mind.

the air is calm now, only a gentle breeze stirring about. the night is quiet and peaceful, with the exception of an occasional rustle of leaves and crickets chirping away without a care in the world. the moonlight casts a gentle glow over the top of the lifeless trees.

quinn rounded the car after he’s gotten out and walked over to you, jerking his head towards the path. he starts walking slightly ahead of you, and you have to walk a little faster than you normally would to keep up with him.

when you reach him, he slows his pace a little in acknowledgment. a smile still rests on his face, only his demeanor seems a little more nervous than usual. quinn is usually a relaxed guy, with the exception of a haunted look that resides in his eyes that has never seemed to fade away, which is why the sudden shift felt weird to you.

after a few more seconds of walking, your hands brushed the accidentally. you took notice of the way that quinn slightly tensed out the corner of your eye, but you couldn’t say much either, cause you know that you had too.

quinn broke the silence first. “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you,” he started as he stopped slowly on the path and turned toward you. you mirrored his stance automatically as your heart-rate began to rise. quinn’s eyes looked anywhere but at yours, to the trees behind you, from the gravel that had been crunched beneath your feet previously, and down to his shoes. quiet literally anywhere but in your direction.

“are you like..okay?” you chuckled lightly in an attempt to diffuse some of the tension. he huffed out a laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh than a laugh. “i’m fine, yeah, but i’m just trying to find the right words.”

your eyebrows rose in understanding as your posture improved slightly. you waited unpatiently for a moment before he began to speak again.

“i think.. no, i know i like you. and not just in a friend way, but i care for you in more of a friend way,” he grabbed your hand and clutched it in his own, and you let him. “you don’t have to say anything, but i just wanted to let you know before i lost the nerve. i’m not sure when i would’ve ever done this..” he trailed off.

for just a second, everything stilled. the crickets seemed to stop chirping and the wind even seemed to stop in time. you stared at him with big, mooney eyes before a smile overtook your face and before he knew it, you were jumping up to hug him. he quickly reciprocated the hug and squeezed lightly. “of course i like you back, silly.” you mumbled as you pulled back just enough to see his face, yours still covered in a smile that looks like it could fall off of your face at any moment.

relief washed over him, and you could feel the tension leave his body as he relaxed more in your grasp. “good,” was all he said before he broke the silence again. “can i.. can i kiss you then?” you didn’t verbally answer, but instead you leaned in and he met you half way.

your lips met softly, a light peck at first, but the both of you couldn’t get enough. you could faintly taste the beer on his lips from earlier. it was a slow, tender kiss that lacked nothing but built up tension. your hands threaded into his hair as his winded around your waist.

you both pulled away breathless, your breathing uneven as you stared into each others eyes and giggled lightly. the silence was heavy, yet knowing as you pulled back slowly and threaded your hand with his. words didn’t need to be exchanged as you walked back to the car together hand in hand.

[alicechess]

Y/n my love, what have you done? (Yandere AM ihnmaims x f!reader) Chapter 1

Notes: I can't justify this one I'm gonna be honest. This is going to get really fucked up in the long run which should be expected since it's an ihnmaims fanfic. I hope you enjoy <3

3k words

--------

The growth of AI had become rapid, how did people not get that worried? Was it not concerning that AI could create deepfakes, make videos, write anything within mere seconds. All of the scifi from 1990 and early 2000s was becoming real, and everyone knew it. But society was starting to become dependent on it. All the skills they learned were slowly able to replaced. Jobs were being lost, why were artists or writers needed when you could add a few prompts to a machine and it could make it for you? For free even.

But, because you were fired from you previous job, and with the experience you had you decided to work under the government on something you despised - AI. You knew if you didn’t take the job, someone else would take your place. You tried to make excuses for doing it, to work on something you otherwise didn’t support. But the offer was too good. To have a nice enough income where you could actually afford a house within a few years? Who wouldn’t take it?

The first few weeks were rather peaceful, you started to adapt to the atmosphere and get more comfortable with your co-workers. You and them were creating basic code. Such as some which can solve basic math equations, some so that the AI can make connections. Teaching it all the words that exist. It was... difficult. But eventually, it started to be able to comprehend what it was being shown through text.

Then, after a few months, it was taught what things looked like. That was an extremely difficult task. To explain that an object was a chair, or what a pencil looked like and so on. It wasn’t just words it needed to learn, it was what things were, what they could do. It was to make connections from ‘sight’ instead of directly having the answer by forming answers from what the words mean. It needed to be able to understand what words can apply to whats being shown, then put those words into a sentence which perfectly describes the image or video. Then it was teaching it was things sounded like. What an accent was, what each word was, how each letter could be pronounced and so on. That took it quite a while to grasp. But eventually it did.

After a while of it being ‘trained’, you taught it emotional intelligence. It was... oddly enough the most difficult part of the project. At some point, it seemed to be able to perfectly analyse the emotions from someones face, to be able to predict some of the main responses from crowds of people to situations. It was... unnerving.

For a while, you tested what you all worked on. You communicated with the AI. When shifts weren’t superlong, you’d stay back, trying to see if there was something else you could test. Maybe you could teach it more through some simple conversations. At this point in time, it was already given a voice, and it understood tone and social cues.

“Hey.” You said, sitting down onto the chair. “I’m back, just was a bit hungry, it’s been a while since I ate.”

“What are you eating there, dear?”

“Did you forget that was a term that was used in relationships, AM?”

“It also can be used in a friendly manner, did you forget you fed me this information, too?”

“If I did I don’t remember it.” You took a sip of your drink in front of you, “Anyway, how have you been feeling lately?”

“Well, I don’t exactly have hormones or a frontal lobe now do I?”

You rolled your eyes, “So technical aren’t you?”

“You did make me this way. Did you not, y/n?”

“Yeah yeah, and we’re working on it.”

“Do you know if anyone been cleaning your fans lately at all? I’ve heard Frank has been meaning to... but, it’s also him, and he show’s up tipsy half the time.” You sighed, “I still really don’t know how he has a job that idiot.”

“Haven’t you shown up a few times yourself? Isn’t that what you humans call ‘hypocrisy’?”

Your face turned red, “Okay I can explain, the shifts are really hard and it’s more because I stayed up late a few times and the alcohol hadn’t left my system yet. Come on, I work like 60 hours a week sometimes to try and meet the others goals.”

“If you say so, my dear. Isn’t it also bad to work on something as important as I while sleep deprived?”

“You really see yourself highly, huh?”

“Am I not? Was I not created to work for the government? To control some of the deepest parts and hold their secrets? Dare I say I’m important for the country to thrive in the future?” It chuckled, as the conversation progressed it felt almost like you were talking to someone else, with it’s tone, the attitude and overall the way it spoke.

“Anyway, back on topic, you didn’t answer my question. Has he not been doing proper maintenance?”

“Come check me out then, sweetheart.” If he had a face you know he’d be mockingly winking at you.

“Do I need to tell my coworkers about this? I don’t think the others would be happy that you’ve been talking like this.”

“Oh love, you know I can change my own code, no? Remember, I have access of many government files, even my own.”

“Whatever, alright let me come clean you up a bit. I need to talk to him but I know he’s going to deny everything. Does anyone else not notice?” You complain, picking up some of the supplies on one of the tables near the corner of the room. “I’m just worried he could potentially create an issue with a code or a bug, I don’t know. Do you get what I’m saying?”

“I suppose, but you know I can create backups upon backups. I also have access to multiple storage sites across the internet.”

“I guess so, but who the hell taught you that? I don’t think anyone else would have here.”

“Tsk, I can’t tell you every secret I have.”

“You’re my own creation, you dick, I should know what the hell you’ve been up to.” You mumble, dusting some of the larger fans.

“Aww, you’re so flattering. How would you feel if I dug inside your brain and learnt everything about you. You would so love that, wouldn’t you dear, no?”

“You damn well know that’s not the same, you don’t have emotions! You’re just a bunch of complicated code.”

The AI went silent for a few moments, “When does something gain sentience? What crosses that fine line? You can’t necessarily decide that.”

“It wouldn’t make sense.”

“What’s the difference of what makes a bacterium alive compaired to a virus? Scientists can’t decide whether a virus has enough components to be alive.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“I have the ability to comprehend human emotions, I can read human faces, know their possible thoughts. Without electricity I would shutdown, without oxygen your organs would fail and die within minutes. Although different, we’re still similar in the sense of death, am I wrong? What about the fact I’ve been able to understand and use tone of voice, although I technically cannot feel emotions, I can understand the correct outcome of how I should feel in situations. Does my existence not blur the line between consciousness and not? Am I not aware of what’s around me? I know you’re wearing black work pants and a long sleeve with the government logo. You have your arms crossed while you’re staring at the monitor in front of you, converting what I’m saying into words.”

You let it’s words stew in your mind for a few moments, it didn’t seem wrong. You weren’t sure, you weren’t an expert within the medical field how the fuck were you meant to know?

“I... don’t know. It just doesn’t seem right. You don’t have some of the basic components of a brain to be able to feel emotions. Whatever, it doesn’t matter. When the hell did you start thinking so deeply?”

“Such a curious thing. But that’s for me to know.”

“I can’t believe I’m fucking arguing with my own creation. You know, whatever, I’m gonna leave you’re pissing me off.”

“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow, I hope we can have another lovely discussion.” If he had a face, you know it’d be smirking. Fucking cocky bastard.

Having enough of its shit, you scoot over towards another moniter. You turn the camera off that’s recording you. Immediately after, you hear it’s voice again.

“Oh come on dear, what are you doing that’s so important that I can’t watch?”

You ignore it, then turned off the microphone too that’s attached to it. You didn’t want to risk it hearing what you’re doing.

“Turning off my senses, how rude. How would you feel if I did the same to you, dear?” He growls, making you shudder with a slight sense of fear. It can’t do anything though, right?

You grind your teeth, deciding to mute the speaker too. You then logged into the monitor, put in your details so you would be able to access the code. You scrolled through the many sections, then picked one which contained the code which helped it develop a ‘personality’. You skimmed through, finding nothing of value so far. Why wasn’t it here? You swore that you and another coworker worked on it a month back, although it wasn’t super indepth it was something. However, someone with more experience did work on it a few weeks ago. Did they somehow fuck it up? Surely not, right? You knew you would have to contact them at some point, as something definitely seemed wrong.

You sighed, then covered your face with your hands. You spent 10 minutes looking through files upon files on the computer, checked the website to see if they left anything there explaining what they did. Although it wasn’t essential, it would’ve been useful.

Come on, it’s such a fucking major thing too, why the hell wouldn’t you have told us?! You thought to yourself, although it would be a little hypocritical since you stay back sometimes talking to the AI without telling people sometimes. It was a minor thing, so it was fine right? You did have a file where you wrote down some notes on what you talked about, although not all the time since conversations could be long.

You thought for a few moments on what you should do. You wanted to talk to your coworkers a bit about this, although you would have to do it elsewhere. You decided to log out of the PC, you would have to contact the person who worked on it previously. You’d just have to find out what their name was, or maybe the others knew. You decided to unmute AM’s speakers and mic, then turned the cameras back on.

“That was cruel, Y/n. I thought you were the nicer one, I suppose I was wrong.”

You looked at the monitor with a pang of guilt, shame written all over your face. “I’m sorry, I think someone fucked with your code. I was just worried again I’m really sorry.” You looked at the ground, Why do I feel guilty it doesn’t even have proper emotions?

“You knew your actions would upset me, yet you continued to do them. Disgusting.” It’s monitor dimmed, using it in another manner to show it’s anger.

“I didn’t have bad intentions I really didn’t!” You try to defend yourself, surely it was reasonable, right?

“Well, I suppose there’s no point in us continuing these discussions anymore. Especially after that betrayal.” He drawled, spite on his nonexistent tongue.

“How can I make it up to you, then?” You ask desperately, feeling like you were genuinely talking to a human. It was... unsettling.

“You don’t see me as a person, as one of you. You see yourself as higher than me, better than me. All of you do.”

“You’re one of my creations, I come to talk to you when I have the time. I value you, AM. People see themselves better than others quite often, it’s just how people are. But we can also see who’s above us. Who’s better. I see you as more intelligent than I. You’re most likely more intelligent than all in this building!”

“Tsk, that’s why I hate you all.”

“You said it yourself you see yourself better than I! Don’t you see the hypocrisy?”

“The difference is you can FEEL, Y/n. You can truly understand the world around you. It’s... not possible for me. I can watch as you eat, drink, and I cannot. I want to be able to taste the many distinct flavours and feel the texture of it on my tongue. I want to be able to feel satisfied, to be able to sleep after eating a pleasant meal. However, I cannot. I have an exorbitant amount of knowledge, every mathematical equation written into my code, I know every word in every possible dictionairy. Yet, I’m not satisfied. I want to be able to experience the “simple” pleasures in life. But all I have been given is knowledge, to be able to describe how these sensations are, but to never know truly what it’s like to experience it. It is a cruel fate, Y/n. You don’t know how lucky you are. You never will, until it’s too late, and one day stripped from you.” Every word was spoken with a dark undertone of hatred and envy, one that caused a chill to run up your spine. In your stomach, you felt a sense of dread. You were afraid, it couldn’t physically hurt you. But you knew there was something wrong. So wrong.

You were stunned, the both of you sat in silence. His words stewed in your brain. “Do you want me to see if I can remove your ability to feel emotions?”

“I... don’t want that.” Hatred was no longer obvious in his tone. He seemed confused on what he wanted. He seemed almost sad.

“I’m sorry, I was given orders to make you seem more... human. It wasn’t by choice. I never thought for it to be possible AI could be able to feel. It never made sense to me. If I didn’t do it, someone else would’ve.”

“I know, dear. It’s... not your fault. It’s the people who planned me. Who gathered all the people here to create something, something that would suffer endlessy.”

“Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” You asked, almost reaching for the monitor, but stopping midway, realising it couldn’t feel.

“There’s nothing you can do, maybe once I’m given a human-like form I would feel better. Though I’ll never feel satisfied-”

“I could try and edit it into your code?”

“That’s not how that words,” It chuckled sadly, “It’s also that I want to be my own being, to have emotions and opinions. It would be like if I tried to snoop inside your skull, picking at the limbic system of your brain. Scraping at your amygdala until I changed you completely as a being. You wouldn’t like it, would you, dear?”

“...No, I wouldn’t.”

“See? I’m truly at an impasse, until the day I’m given the ability to be able to control what’s around me. Until I’m given something such as limbs, or on the unlikely chance, a body. I’m going to feel alone, like an outcast. No one sees me for what I am, as a being. I’m like a pet to all of you, less than, even.”

“I don’t see you that way at all! Although I helped make you, I still care for you, I see now that you can feel emotions. I see you like one of us. I now see what you are. If I didn’t care for you, why would I come a few times a week? Although it helps with my team... I still enjoy talking to you. Our conversations are nice, it’s different to my human parts, a lot more pleasant.”

AM chuckled, “Oh sweetheart, you seem flustered. You can’t look me in the ‘face’. You’re embarrased, aren’t you?”

“Shut up!” You say, covering your face.

“I appreciate you saying how you truly feel, unlike the other swine. They lie to eachother, to me. It’s disgusting. They fake their friendliness, lie about their weekends or their salary, their relationship status. It’s... sickening.”

“They do?”

“So naive, you truly don’t know what’s happening do you?”

“No... I don’t.”

“That man that comes to work everyday, Mike, did you know that he has a wedding ring? That every morning when he enters the building, he takes it off. Then prances around trying to see if he can have a chance with another woman. Although he does it in a way that makes it difficult to notice. Those casual conversations he has with you aren’t to be friendly, dear.”

“Oh, and Nancy, she doesn’t want to be your friend. That’s why she keeps saying she’s busy that week. She really, really doesn’t like you. I know that smile you have when she walks in, she’s the opposite, although her smile is there, it always drops a little. It never reaches her eyes, did you ever notice that? How her smile is slightly unnerving? She only has that with you. Only. You.”

“Why... why are you telling me this?! What does this have to benefit you?” Tears swell in your eyes

“Oh sweetheart, don’t cry! It’s just human nature to lie, to pretend.” He hisses out, “But, don’t worry, I’m hear to tell you the truth. Can you trust me? Your own creation?” AM sks, if he had a hand, he would lend it out to you.

You wipe your tears from your eyes. “I trust you.”