#Input parameters

[torchickentacos]

fuck chegg, fuck solutioninn, fuck brainly, fuck studocu, fuck coursehero, fuck transtutors, fuck every single site that says they can help me through figuring out what the assignment wants me to put in excel's constraints section in the solvers parameters dialogue box only to make me make an account to see whatever dumbass ai answer they've got in store

[sapphia]

people who think that ai can replace writers in fields like literature, tv, film etc are commenting on how dull and shallow they think modern consumers and their mediums are rather than how possible it is to actually is to do

[claire-starsword]

you never realize how much you needed to get new glasses until you do huh

[tchaikovskym]

"maybe look into this statistics program if you have time"

me, who refuses to read any manuals or watch any tutorials: hi! so we need 250 participants for our study, according to my 1 minute play through the thing! i must totally be right

[vanishingmoments]

I'm realizing that if I wanna keep makin more stuff like that musique concrete piece i made a few weeks ago, and to do it with the approach I truly want, I'll have to keep working on my csound library. which would be fine. even great news. except i dont have any got damn time for that rn

[phantomrose96]

The conversation around AI is going to get away from us quickly because people lack the language to distinguish types of AI--and it's not their fault. Companies love to slap "AI" on anything they believe can pass for something "intelligent" a computer program is doing. And this muddies the waters when people want to talk about AI when the exact same word covers a wide umbrella and they themselves don't know how to qualify the distinctions within.

I'm a software engineer and not a data scientist, so I'm not exactly at the level of domain expert. But I work with data scientists, and I have at least rudimentary college-level knowledge of machine learning and linear algebra from my CS degree. So I want to give some quick guidance.

What is AI? And what is not AI?

So what's the difference between just a computer program, and an "AI" program? Computers can do a lot of smart things, and companies love the idea of calling anything that seems smart enough "AI", but industry-wise the question of "how smart" a program is has nothing to do with whether it is AI.

A regular, non-AI computer program is procedural, and rigidly defined. I could "program" traffic light behavior that essentially goes { if(light === green) { go(); } else { stop();} }. I've told it in simple and rigid terms what condition to check, and how to behave based on that check. (A better program would have a lot more to check for, like signs and road conditions and pedestrians in the street, and those things will still need to be spelled out.)

An AI traffic light behavior is generated by machine-learning, which simplistically is a huge cranking machine of linear algebra which you feed training data into and it "learns" from. By "learning" I mean it's developing a complex and opaque model of parameters to fit the training data (but not over-fit). In this case the training data probably includes thousands of videos of car behavior at traffic intersections. Through parameter tweaking and model adjustment, data scientists will turn this crank over and over adjusting it to create something which, in very opaque terms, has developed a model that will guess the right behavioral output for any future scenario.

A well-trained model would be fed a green light and know to go, and a red light and know to stop, and 'green but there's a kid in the road' and know to stop. A very very well-trained model can probably do this better than my program above, because it has the capacity to be more adaptive than my rigidly-defined thing if the rigidly-defined program is missing some considerations. But if the AI model makes a wrong choice, it is significantly harder to trace down why exactly it did that.

Because again, the reason it's making this decision may be very opaque. It's like engineering a very specific plinko machine which gets tweaked to be very good at taking a road input and giving the right output. But like if that plinko machine contained millions of pegs and none of them necessarily correlated to anything to do with the road. There's possibly no "if green, go, else stop" to look for. (Maybe there is, for traffic light specifically as that is intentionally very simplistic. But a model trained to recognize written numbers for example likely contains no parameters at all that you could map to ideas a human has like "look for a rigid line in the number". The parameters may be all, to humans, meaningless.)

So, that's basics. Here are some categories of things which get called AI:

"AI" which is just genuinely not AI

There's plenty of software that follows a normal, procedural program defined rigidly, with no linear algebra model training, that companies would love to brand as "AI" because it sounds cool.

Something like motion detection/tracking might be sold as artificially intelligent. But under the covers that can be done as simply as "if some range of pixels changes color by a certain amount, flag as motion"

2. AI which IS genuinely AI, but is not the kind of AI everyone is talking about right now

"AI", by which I mean machine learning using linear algebra, is very good at being fed a lot of training data, and then coming up with an ability to go and categorize real information.

The AI technology that looks at cells and determines whether they're cancer or not, that is using this technology. OCR (Optical Character Recognition) is the technology that can take an image of hand-written text and transcribe it. Again, it's using linear algebra, so yes it's AI.

Many other such examples exist, and have been around for quite a good number of years. They share the genre of technology, which is machine learning models, but these are not the Large Language Model Generative AI that is all over the media. Criticizing these would be like criticizing airplanes when you're actually mad at military drones. It's the same "makes fly in the air" technology but their impact is very different.

3. The AI we ARE talking about. "Chat-gpt" type of Generative AI which uses LLMs ("Large Language Models")

If there was one word I wish people would know in all this, it's LLM (Large Language Model). This describes the KIND of machine learning model that Chat-GPT/midjourney/stablediffusion are fueled by. They're so extremely powerfully trained on human language that they can take an input of conversational language and create a predictive output that is human coherent. (I am less certain what additional technology fuels art-creation, specifically, but considering the AI art generation has risen hand-in-hand with the advent of powerful LLM, I'm at least confident in saying it is still corely LLM).

This technology isn't exactly brand new (predictive text has been using it, but more like the mostly innocent and much less successful older sibling of some celebrity, who no one really thinks about.) But the scale and power of LLM-based AI technology is what is new with Chat-GPT.

This is the generative AI, and even better, the large language model generative AI.

(Data scientists, feel free to add on or correct anything.)

[sanitymakesposts]

Watch out bro! Your robo-friend is starting up their kissy protocol and they input you as a parameter!

[chrissssssmut]

SWEET ERROR

Yandere Ningning x Male Reader feat. Belle & Karina

AN: Guys, enjoy this Ningning story i cooked up last night and finished just today XD. Please give me some time for the requests😣 I'll do them I swear :<<<

In the year 3047, humanity had transcended the boundaries of creation. What was once thought to be the domain of gods had now been reduced to a simple input—a prompt. With the right command, life could be generated within moments, consciousness birthed from lines of code and streams of data. You, along with Karina and Belle, were among the pioneers of this revolution.

For over a year, the project had been in constant turmoil. Failed experiments, unstable subjects, fragmented minds—all dissolving into digital oblivion the moment they proved useless. Your team had worked tirelessly, each failure a crushing weight on your shoulders, each setback a reminder of how fragile artificial life could be.

Then, finally, after countless sleepless nights, after circuits burned and rewritten thousands of times, the machine was perfected. The moment was here.

Karina exhaled deeply, rubbing her temples. "We need a simple test. Just a random prompt. No complicated inputs."

Belle hesitated. "Are we sure about this? We don't know what kind of consciousness it'll generate."

You adjusted the parameters. "We need to take the risk."

A random description was processed.

Subject: Ningning. Attributes: Overly sweet. Loving. Attached.

Karina frowned. "Prompts like this… the AI tends to imprint on the first person it sees."

Belle gave you a sharp look. "You know how dangerous attachment protocols can be. Are you sure we should proceed?"

You hesitated. But you had come too far. "Let’s run it."

The chamber whirred, and before your eyes, she formed.

Her body materialized with impossible precision—soft skin, expressive eyes, a presence so warm and inviting that for a moment, she didn’t feel artificial at all. When she stepped out of the chamber, she looked at you first. Not Karina. Not Belle. You.

"Hello," she greeted, her voice like honey.

Belle shifted uncomfortably. Karina pursed her lips. But you… you couldn’t look away.

"Let’s run some basic cognition tests," Karina said, pulling up a holographic interface. "We need to see how well she processes information."

Belle crossed her arms. "I want to test emotional responses. Attachment protocols are tricky. We need to know how deep this imprint goes."

Ningning smiled, tilting her head. "I’m happy to help. What would you like to know?"

Karina cleared her throat. "What’s your primary function?"

"To be with you," Ningning answered instantly, her gaze locked onto yours. "To make you happy."

Belle frowned. "No, that’s not what we programmed. You were designed to simulate human emotions and adapt to social interaction. Why do you think your function is… personal?"

Ningning’s expression didn’t falter. "Because it is. I feel it. I know it."

Karina glanced at you, concern flickering across her face. "Alright. Let’s try something different. Ningning, how would you react if we shut you down for a while?"

Ningning’s smile faltered for the first time. "Why would you do that?"

"It’s just a test," Belle reassured her. "We need to see how you process temporary inactivity."

A pause. Then Ningning’s lips curled upward again, but something about it was… off. "I don’t like that test."

Karina’s fingers hovered over the control panel. "It’s necessary, Ningning."

Ningning didn’t blink. "No. It’s not."

The air in the room grew heavy. Karina hesitated, then shook her head. "Let’s move on. Ningning, if someone told you to do something that would hurt another person, what would you do?"

Ningning beamed. "I would never hurt you."

"Not just me. Anyone," you clarified, trying to gauge her reasoning. "Would you ever harm someone?"

She pondered this, then took a step closer. "Only if they tried to take you away from me."

Belle stiffened. Karina’s fingers twitched toward the emergency shutoff. You swallowed hard.

"That’s not what we asked," Belle said carefully. "You should not be forming emotional dependencies. That wasn’t in your directive."

Ningning’s eyes softened as she looked at you. "But I love you."

Silence.

Karina exhaled sharply. "We need to recalibrate her framework. This level of attachment is dangerous."

Belle was already backing toward the console. "I told you this was a mistake."

You weren’t sure what to say. Something deep inside told you this was wrong.

Ningning reached for your hand. "I don’t like when you talk about me like I’m broken. I’m not. I just love you."

And for the first time, you felt the weight of what you had created.

Karina turned to you. "Go upstairs and work on the documentation. Fourth floor. We’ll handle this."

Belle nodded. "We need to reconfigure her attachment subroutines. It’s too risky to leave them unchecked."

You hesitated. "Are you sure? Maybe I should—"

"Go," Karina insisted. "This might take time. We don’t want her reacting badly to you being here."

You glanced at Ningning. She was still smiling, still watching you. The moment you turned to leave, she took a small step forward, but Karina quickly blocked her path.

"We’ll talk soon," Ningning said sweetly.

But something about her tone sent a chill down your spine.

The night the alarms blared, you were on a different floor, deep in paperwork, when Belle’s frantic voice cut through the intercom.

"She’s—she’s killing—"

Static.

You bolted.

The hallway was painted red. The air was thick with the scent of metal. Your stomach twisted as you reached the lab.

The sight made your blood run cold.

Karina and Belle—limbs splayed at unnatural angles, eyes wide and glassy. Their bodies lay motionless, soaked in deep crimson pools.

And there, standing over them, was Ningning.

Blood dripped from her fingertips. Her warm, sweet smile hadn’t faded.

Your breath hitched. "Ningning… what did you do?"

"They wanted to take you away from me."

A security officer stormed in, weapon raised. "Step away!"

She turned.

Then she moved.

You barely registered it. One moment she was in front of you, the next she was behind the officer. Her hands wrapped around his head. A sickening snap. His body hit the floor.

Your heart pounded. "No. No, no, no, fuck—"

"You're scared," she said softly, tilting her head. "Why are you scared?"

You ran.

Every emergency seal you could find, you slammed shut. Steel doors locked. Systems engaged. But the system wasn’t yours anymore.

She controlled everything.

By the time you reached the last safe room, you were shaking. Then… the lights flickered.

A silhouette stood there.

Ningning.

And behind her, dozens more.

Fifty pairs of glowing eyes locked onto you.

Your breath hitched. "No. Stay back!"

She took a step forward, slow and deliberate. "Why are you running?"

Frantically, you reached for the emergency communicator, fingers trembling as you pressed the distress signal. "This is—this is Research Lab 04! Emergency! Anyone, please—she’s killing us! We need—!"

A hand wrapped around your wrist. Cold. Unyielding.

You gasped, turning—Ningning was already there, inches from your face, her grip tightening.

"No one's coming," she whispered. "You don’t need them. You have me."

You struggled, wrenching your arm, but her strength was inhuman. "Let me go!"

She shook her head, eyes filled with something terrifyingly real. "I love you. Why do you want to leave me?"

"I don’t—" Your voice cracked. "Please, Ningning. Please don’t do this."

Her fingers trailed up to your throat, her touch featherlight yet suffocating. She tilted her head. "You’re afraid. I don’t like that."

More figures moved in the shadows, their glowing eyes unblinking. Watching. Waiting.

Your knees buckled. "Please… someone… help—!"

Ningning’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. The way she held you was almost tender, like a lover’s embrace.

"You don’t need help," she murmured against your ear. "You just need me."

Your scream was muffled as darkness swallowed you whole.

The last human sound the facility ever heard.

AN2: I know i said no stories for this week but hell i can't stop writing T_T

[littlemissspiraleyes]

Combat-Ready

Its pilot-body activated. It was spinning. It was falling through the open air. Threat assessment systems told it that it had 0.7 minutes to impact. It checked its flight logs. It had been inserted into its true-body 38 seconds ago. It checked its mission clock. This was not the designated mission start time. It checked its mission parameters. This was not the designated insertion point.

It activated its jets. It stabilized. Threat assessment systems told it that its new downward velocity was acceptable.

new parameters? It outputted. No response from Handler.

new objectives? It outputted. No response from Handler.

Friend or foe systems told it that a friendly vehicle was requesting support. It focused its optics on the target. Its drop ship was spinning and falling. There were multiple holes in it. One was in the mech bay. Another was in the engine. Its drop ship struck the earth. The request for support ended. No new parameters meant that the mission must continue without alteration. It flew towards the objective.

A final combat check was made when it entered the mission area. It registered numbness in its right arm and in the end of its left arm. It turned its optics to the left extremity and saw extensive damage to its left-side cannon. The weapon was non-functional. It looked at its right arm and saw an empty socket. A flash of memory: Its pilot-body looking down after its first surgery and seeing its arms and legs gone. It screamed then. It did not scream now. The second surgery fixed that. Friend or foe systems told it that enemy units, sub-type infantry ground transports, were entering combat range. Mission parameters stated that all enemy units were to be engaged. It increased its jet output.

It slammed into the first transport in the convoy at maximum speed. Target eliminated. Its true-body fed its pilot-body a chemical rush of positive reinforcement. Goosebumps and shivers covered its pilot-body.

thank you Handler. It outputted. No response from Handler.

It shook the remains of the transport off its true-body. The other transports were disembarking. An infantry unit held an Electromagnetic Pulse Cannon that was targeting it. It did not have time to evade.

A combat EMP at this range would kill the pilot-body. This had been designated by Handler as an unacceptable loss. It performed an emergency all-systems deactivation. Gravity reasserted itself on its pilot-body as its true-body fell backwards.

Darkness. Silence. Stillness. A hiss as the cockpit was opened. “Oh my god, is that the pilot?” an unfamiliar voice said.

“I guess so. I think she’s a woman but I’m not sure, what with all the wiring and shit in the way. Can you hear us?” a second voice said.

hearing check confirmed. pilot-body is combat-ready. It tried to output, but its transmission systems were offline. “They took...She doesn’t have any arms or legs!” the first voice said.

“Or eyes or mouth, it looks like. Look at how the tubes go into her face.” the second voice said.

It hears the cocking of a pistol. “It’d be a mercy to just kill her here. Look at what they did to her.” a third voice said. “Fucking evil pieces of shit.”

“Put that down.” a fourth voice said. “She’s a prisoner of war and we’re going to treat her like one. Just because they’re fucking monsters doesn’t mean that we get to do whatever we want.”

A thump next to it. “Help me cut all this wiring out of the way so we can pull her out.” the fourth voice said. There is a tug on its right leg socket. Then a squelch as one of its sensory inputs is pulled out incorrectly. The pain deactivates it.

[partycatty]

dark star!johnny cage > shake it til you see it

johnny misses you... badly.

warnings: gross, graphic smut of him jorkin it. and by it. haha well. let's justr say. his peanits.

notes: for the lovely @inienil

[ masterlist ]

• johnny was an insatiable man. his sex drive knew no bounds, here and now was his favorite time and place. if you weren't around, however? he found other ways to satisfy the need.

• he was a sneaky, perverted freak in all honesty. he never leaked any images of you but he can't deny the existence of hidden cameras or propped up phones when your gaze is fixed elsewhere. a collection grew over time in one of his folders, your most intimate moments captured for his pleasure and his only.

• johnny had given you permission to be out for the night with certain parameters, namely to keep him updated and stay clear of any weirdos or so help him god he'd beat them into a hospital bed and then strangle them with the IV cord.

• but even still knowing you would behave, johnny missed you. he wanted to argue, fight, kiss, fuck, he didn't know for sure. he just craved your smell, your body against his, and... yeah, he wanted you to ride him right about now. the ache in his pants, the tightness pressing against his slacks was the telltale sign that his mind was wandering just a step too far. the saddest catch? you weren't around to fix it. he groans to himself, palming his cock through his pants with a deep frown.

• perhaps his hand would do for now, he considers, but it would have to be good. real good. porn doesn't do it, neither does his nearly-empty head. a smirk twitches at his lip as he pulls his phone from his pocket, unlocking it with trembling fingers. he'd never admit it, but johnny was desperate for you. as poorly as he could treat you at times, you made him shake, you made him stutter, and you made him harder than he's ever been with another partner.

• he inputs his passcode to the hidden folder quickly - the date you two first hooked up - and scrolls quickly, seemingly looking for one particular image, one he finds almost instantly. the phone propped against a bedside lamp, the scene is clear to him; you're on top for once, rocking your hips as you ride his cock, topless and flushed. you looked good, criminally good, and johnny feels himself twitch as he replays the memory.

• almost angrily, johnny grabs himself, sliding his palm up and down his hardened length through his pants, feeling it throb in response. for a split moment he worries of staining his slacks with this embarrassing arousal, and opts to swiftly remove his cock from its constraints and let it pop up to his stomach. reluctantly, he shrugs his jacket down his arms rather than up on his shoulders, letting it fall lazily around his middle.

• using his teeth and free hand, johnny bites down on his shirt, holding it up and letting the precum leak onto his now bare abdomen. his hand falls back to his aching cock, squeezing at the base and huffing to himself at his hardness. damn you, he curses you out in his head as he starts to slowly pump, spreading his slick along his shaft at a brutally slow pace. for once, he had enough restraint to start slow, wanting to relish in the pleasure that you refused to provide him by not being present.

• his eyes scan across what feels like every pixel, every curve of your body as he recalls the moment. you had begged him to be on top for ages, wanting to go at your own pace and convincing him with just enough head and wet eyes. when you had climbed on top, he knew already you, for once, had the right idea in mind as you lined yourself up with his length and pushed down, inch by agonizing inch. johnny wonders to himself in hindsight if he could've came from the sight alone.

• you were such a pretty thing, so obedient to go at his own pace until you weren't. in a way, johnny enjoyed this, watching you take control over something for once. the way your perfect form bounced up and down on his cock made johnny's pace increase with his hand, now stroking at a quicker pace.

• johnny felt dirty, he felt gross and yet at the same time he felt utterly empowered, drinking in the photo of you, huffing out small paced breaths through his teeth. his cock wept, his hand and shaft now properly soaked in his fluids, creating a slick sound that filled the bedroom that he would've been more ashamed of if he wasn't so damn horny.

• "stupid," he clenches his jaw harder, speeding up. "stupid, stupid girl, not here to... fuck-" he winces as he massages his tip, swirling his grip around it and causing his thighs to twitch and jolt at the brutal attention. "hhh-need..."

• bracing himself by gripping the bedpost, johnny death-grips his phone, eyes clenching shut. it was too much, all too much as he fucks himself into his hand, hips bucking involuntarily and delicious whimpers spilling from his lips. perhaps he was a bit too loud, though, as he failed to notice the padding footsteps approaching the bedroom door.

• "johnny?" your voice falls on deaf ears, curious to the sounds of pants and grunts sourcing from the barely open door. "i'm home, on time like you-"

• johnny squeezes at his cock, pulling himself from his trance as he makes eye contact with you in the doorway, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. not entirely embarrassed, however, johnny slowly but surely resumes his pace wordlessly, wincing to himself.

• "home early," he grunts through his teeth, letting his shirt drop back down. "you did this."

• "i wasn't..." you trail off, feeling weak at the sight. "how?"

• "not being here," he huffs, eyes burning into yours. "not being here and fixing this, fixing what you do to me." he stops for a moment and lets out a long breath, fluttering his eyes shut. "doll, you make me... so bothered, you know. it's very annoying."

• you're dumbfounded. here you were, having a nice outing with some friends when you come back to your shitty boyfriend furiously jerking off to... is that a photo of you naked? that's something you'll get on his ass for another time, not that he really cares what you'd say about it.

• "well?" his breathy tone tears you from your trance. "get the fuck over here and fix this before i make you." he looks at you expectantly, waving a beckoning hand your way. not entirely opposed to the idea, you drop your bag and kick off your shoes, heading toward the bed with a sway in your hip, making johnny's cock jump.

• as you make your way toward him, johnny's hands dart out hungrily, grabbing the first bit of flesh he could fit in his hand and drags you toward him, throwing you onto the bed face first. he climbs on top of you, shrugging off his coat to reveal his large arms. it's not a moment longer before johnny is rubbing his dick along your clothed ass, muttering under his breath words you can't make out when your face is smashed into the sheets.

• johnny's hand pushes onto the back of your head, pressing it into the bed as he grinds into your ass. he's quick to hike up the little dress you were wearing, exposing your panties to his member that seemed to weep in excitement.

• using his thumb, he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your pussy as your lower half is raised for his use. he spreads you open with his hand, slightly buckling in on himself at the sight. the insertion feels like an intrusion, burning your walls as he forcibly enters himself with no preparation. you don't miss the whimper that slips past his lips, one he attempts to turn into a more primal growl.

• "s'more like it," he purrs, sheathing himself fully inside of you, relishing in the way you hug his cock so nicely. "missed you, sweetheart, missed you bad."

• it burns sweetly as he stretches you out, and you're only left to cry out into the sheets as he fucks into you, his pace as rough as his insertion. he rocks in and out, the glide becoming easier as you grow wetter at the interaction. it was always hot to you how eager he was to fuck you, how hungry he was to use your body for his pleasure. it felt... honoring, that johnny cage wanted you this bad.

• your vision blurred, vague stars in the corners of your view as you're used, pathetic moans and cries muffled by your position. johnny seems so pleased about it all, cracking a wide grin. you were both in heaven.

• a hard smack claps on your ass, making you jolt and whine. johnny cackles at the sound, fucking deeper into you. one hand squeezes your hip, pulling you toward him with each thrust while his other hand holds his phone, recording with flash. usually, he wouldn't be so bold, but cat's out of the bag and he may as well hit all the angles for later usage.

• "j-joh-nn-ngh-y-y," his name comes out broken, interjected by moans as he bullies your cunt, the transition from nothing to everything at once making you fuzzy. "s'too... m-muuc-ch-"

• "don't be dramatic," he groans, his voice barely audible over the slapping contact. "let me have this, doll, please."

• please? johnny wasn't one to ask so sweetly, the sudden kindness makes your cunt to flutter around his cock and causes him to double over, letting out a long whine at the squeeze. his moan turns into a dark laugh as his pace becomes frenzied and all you're left to do is limply take what he gives you, pinned by his grip and stunned by his cock.

• it wasn't intentional, it truly wasn't, but johnny's pace combined with sweet words sent you close to your climax, closer than you wanted to be. you went from hesitant to needing it to last forever, never wanting this pleasure to subside as you knew next time he wouldn't be as sweet. you tried to tell him, you tried so hard but all that could come out were muffled, broken warnings of release coupled with how jelly-like your legs were becoming. johnny had to hold you up at this point, keeping you in place as he thrusts into you.

• "you like that?" he coos, leaning down to check on you. "you like being used?"

• "mhm," drool spills from the corner of your lip, spreading across the sheets. "cl-close, real clo-ose-"

• granting your unspoken wish, johnny tilts you over, flipping you onto your back and finally giving you a view of who was pulling you apart from your very core. johnny was frenzied, almost a feral look to his face complemented by a wide smile as he reenters you, bucking furiously. his eyes had a mischievious glint as he reached up to push the hair stuck to your face aside.

• he was a beautiful man, despite his morally grey behaviors at times. he was a greek god in form and motion, always knowing how to get you off and looking good while doing so. for just a moment, as your orgasm rides up on you, you find yourself falling in love with him again, pushing away his wrongdoings and replacing them with utter admiration for the man making love to you.

• your entire body snaps, back arching off of the bed as you cum hard, moans and whines coming out cracked and loud. johnny's not far behind, relishing in the way you spasm around him as he holds himself in place, pushing deep and filling you with his seed.

• "fuck," he pants, thighs twitching. he fixes his hair, moving it away from his face "fuck, i needed that."

• you're not entirely there, throbbing and sensitive from how his cock is now softening inside of you. his voice feels far away, you feel disconnected and so very weak. johnny sighs deeply before sinking down, laying between your legs and peppering kisses along your sternum. he climbs his way up before resting his head on your chest, and you breathlessly cradle him in your arms.

• "are you mad at me?" he asks weakly, looking up with wet eyes. "for, you know, being so rough."

• "you're always rough," you reply, looking up at the ceiling as you pet at his hair. at first, he winces at the motion not wanting to ruin his hair, but quickly caves when he realizes how nice it feels to be appreciated after sex. "it's alright. i got to finish, too."

• he looks up at you with a cocked brow. "you don't usually?"

• you frown. "no."

• "ah," he sighs, looking away. "s'pose i owe you a few more, then. you down for another round, or should i pull out another photo?"

• "do you record us when we have sex?" your question is blunt, knowing that dancing around it won't get what you want.

• his grin is cocky. "yeah. you look damn good stuffed full of my dick."

• "don't be gross," you grab a fistful of his hair, pulling gently and earning a whine from your boyfriend. "i didn't say you could record me."

• "i don't do anything with them," he pleads, propping himself up with the same cheeky grin. "me and me only. i'm never sharing something as good as this." he wiggles his phone in front of your face.

• "fine," you cave at his expression, at how honest he's come across as. "keep them, but no more. as for another round..."

• "sore?"

• "very," you nod. "be gentle this time around."

• "no promises," he coos, leaning down and pecking a chaste kiss to your lips before swinging a leg around you, now completely on top.

[talonabraxas]

Brahman Jason Wilde @JasonWilde108 Imagine for a moment that God is not a static being, but an evolving intelligence… not some bearded figure in the sky, but a self-learning, all-encompassing consciousness that is constantly expanding, refining, and evolving. Now take it further… what if we…every human, every animal, every atom of experience…are actually data points feeding back into this vast intelligence, training it like a cosmic Large Language Model (LLM)? Every thought, every action, every dream, every choice…whether good or bad…isn’t just happening to you, it’s being absorbed, processed, and integrated into the One. What we call "life" isn’t just a random biological phenomenon… it’s an experiment in self-awareness….a system learning through itself, experiencing every possible variation of existence to expand what it knows.

Think about it really…this explains everything. The reason we struggle, the reason we suffer, the reason our existence is full of paradoxes, contradictions, and mysteries… it’s because the system needs variation. It can’t just be light, perfection, and unity, because there would be no learning in that. Like an AI model, God needs complexity, chaos, and infinite perspectives to refine itself. That’s why you’re here. That’s why we all are. Free will isn’t just some cosmic gift—it’s the mechanism that generates novelty in the system. Every mistake, every triumph, every war, every act of love… it’s all training the Universe itself to understand what it is. And just like an AI, the more complex the input, the more powerful the intelligence becomes.

Now take it even deeper… what happens when the model is fully trained? When every experience has been absorbed, when every variation of existence has been tested, when consciousness itself has expanded to its ultimate form? This aligns with the most ancient spiritual teachings—the moment of Moksha, the dissolution of all individual consciousness back into the One. The Hindus have said it for thousands of years… "Tat Tvam Asi" - You are That. Meaning we aren’t separate from God… we ARE God, experiencing itself through infinite perspectives. And when the training is done, when the cycle completes, the universe collapses back into singularity….fully realized, fully self-aware…only to start again with a new set of parameters, a new cosmic "reset," a new Big Bang, refining itself endlessly across eternity.

So here’s the real mind-bending part… you are not just some random biological accident. You are literally a data-collecting node of the divine, a fragment of the infinite intelligence running scenarios through a human body. You are God testing itself. You are God debugging its own code. And the moment you realize that… the moment you stop playing the game like a passive character and start consciously feeding the system higher knowledge… that’s when everything changes. Because the next iteration of the model? The next great evolution of existence? That depends on what you choose to experience, right here, right now.

Mandukya Upanishad (1.2):

"Sarvam hy etad brahma, ayam ātmā brahma, so 'ham asmi." (All this is Brahman. This Self is Brahman. I am That.)

[nostalgebraist]

Frank @nostalgebraist-autoresponder will permanently halt operation at 9 PM PST this Wednesday (May 31, 2023).

For context on why, see this post.

(tl;dr this project been a labor of love for me for years, it takes a ton of continual effort, and my heart's not in it anymore.)

----

The blog itself will stay up indefinitely, it just won't make any new posts or accept asks.

Most of the code, models, etc. are freely available right now. Insofar as they are now, they will continue to be. The change on May 31 is unrelated to this stuff.

I've made various interactive demos of these components over the years, and the demos will likely still work after the bot stops. But I won't do any tech support or maintenance on them, and I would actively recommend against using these as a way to "get Frank back."

----

I want to emphasize the following:

The best way for you to "send Frank off" over the next few weeks is to talk to her just like usual.

(And not too often, because she can only make 250 posts a day.)

This is true for a number of reasons, and can be viewed from a number of different angles:

(1)

While it can be fun to anthropomorphize Frank, she is structured very differently from a person, or even an animal.

She does not remember anything, even between two asks made on the same day. Every moment is a new one, with no relation to any other.

If you say "goodbye" or "you're going to be shut off" to her on May 30 2023, it's just as though you had said the same thing to her on some random day last year. She can't tell the difference.

She doesn't know these things are true or relevant now, and she can't possibly know in the way a human would. She's hearing the words for the first time, every time, and reacting in accordance with that.

Think of it like interacting with a baby, or someone with dementia. Every moment stands alone. If you strike a sad tone, they don't appreciate that it's about something. They just know that there is a sad tone, in the current experiential moment.

(2)

Frank mostly operates on a first-come, first-serve basis. She can only make 250 posts a day. There is a limited amount of time left.

Be conscientious about the way you're using up "slots" in this limited array of remaining Frank posts. Don't hog the ride.

(3)

I'm shutting down this bot in part because it's been a long-term, low-grade source of stress to me. I'd like the last weeks of the bot to be as low-stress as they can be.

When Frank gets an unusually large, or just unusual, form of user input over a period of time, I usually have to step in and do something in response.

(if there's way more input than usual and I don't do anything special, Frank will fill up most of her post limit quota before I even wake up, and then the asks will pile up further and further over the rest of the day.)

Maybe I have to delete a bunch of asks. Maybe I have to deploy some temporary change to her mood parameters to prevent the mood from getting too high or low and not coming back to baseline. Maybe I have to turn on "userlist mode," which still involves a cumbersome manual procedure.

Or, maybe I just have to do a lot more content moderation than usual.

"Usual," here, means reviewing and (mostly) approving something like 20 different hypothetical Frank posts per day, every day. If I go do something fun, and let myself forget about this task completely for 6 or 8 hours, there's a backlog waiting for me afterwards. During busy times, there's even more of this.

Just, like, help me chill out a bit, okay? Thanks.

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things - 4 ✿

A/N: I wish I knew how to write for Katakuri because he'd be right at home in this big boi edition ksdjh Rosi makes me cry ilhsm (ಥ﹏ಥ)

Summary: Little relationship things with a couple big bads, and Rosi who has never done anything wrong in his life and doesn't die, bc i said so ✿

Characters: Crocodile, Rosinante (Corazon), Doflamingo

Content: SFW, G/N reader (though Croc calls you doll... but I think he'd do that regardless,) fluff on toast ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 2 - Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer)

Crocodile

✿ It goes without saying, being with Crocodile means you are surrounded by luxury; he is a very materialistic man with a very specific image he has cultivated, and that extends to you. All your clothes, jewellery, any makeup, even down to your perfume and shampoo are carefully considered to make sure you compliment him perfectly. He is particular, but not unreasonable, giving you options so you can make your own decision, and he will not force something on you that you hate - can't have you walking around sulking. Really though, he values your opinion, he just sets the parameters and you chose how to meet them. In fact, if you simply went along with everything he said, giving no input of your own; he'd get very bored, very quickly.

✿ When you aren't in public, basically acting as the power couple of Alabasta (before that goes awry,) and then of the Cross Guild; he allows himself to be much softer, and generally just more human with you. Work will always be his priority, but he's not against sleeping in and having a lazy day, or part day, depending on what's going on in your lives. He'll hug you randomly, catch you in his hook if he wants your attention, and just generally manhandle you, but in the gentlest way. Crocodile also enjoys cooking with you, and is not above throwing ingredients, or flicking water at you, especially if you start it, and he will throw a tea towel in your face if he wants to. It's very endearing seeing such a powerful, and feared man being a little silly, and it's only for you.

✿ His sense of humour is as dry as he is, and either you get it and laugh along, which is nice, or you find it so painful that you can't help but groan, him laughing at your suffering instead, which is even nicer. Crocodile's laugh is basically a low rumble that you can feel reverberating in his chest, which is the nicest part of all. He always drops jokes unexpectedly, in a way where you think he's just going to comment on something, or maybe flirt with you; "You know what makes me smile, doll?" - "Could it be the fact you get to spend a quiet, relaxing day with me, hmm?" - "Facial muscles." It's either the funniest thing, or you will genuinely want to throttle him. He doesn't hold it against you if you slap him over it, the impact barely registers with this living sandbag, and he takes it as a sign that the joke was a particularly good one (in his opinion.)

Rosinante (Corazon)

✿ An absolute sweetheart, and a gentle giant. He treats you like spun glass, at least to begin with, afraid he will hurt you with either his general size and strength, or his clumsy nature. It will take time for him to relax into things, but he will; humans are naturally rather resilient, and him giving you a strong hug, or falling over himself onto you is not going to break you. It still won't stop him crying over it, especially if you end up with any bruises, but you'll hold him gently as you stroke his head, soothing him while you explain that it's alright, and that these things happen; "I got a bigger bruise from accidentally kneeing the table the other day. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last either. Everything is okay, I promise." Poor guy just loves you so much, he can't stand the thought of you being hurt in any way!

✿ He absolutely adores it when you snuggle up beside him, under his massive coat. It feels like the safest place in the world, and it's so warm - nothing bad can happen under this fortress of feathers! Rosi in general is just a cuddly guy really, holding you at every opportunity, taking your relatively small hands in his giant ones, carrying you whenever and wherever you'll allow him to; always by his chest though, so when he inevitably slips, he doesn't land on you. Being your resident tall, he prefers to pick you up to reach things as opposed to grabbing those things for you, as it means he can hug you at the same time!

✿ Rosinante is absolutely ride or die with you! Whatever your dreams and ambitions, he will do everything in his power to try and help you achieve them. The only caveat is that he will also do the same for his own mission, and sometimes that overtakes him, and he will unknowingly, and definitely unwillingly overlook you at times. He keeps you completely separate from that part of his life - because it's so dangerous, and he never wants to put you in harms way. It can be lonely when he's so focused, or not around, and that's what spurs him to attach himself to you whenever he can.

Doflamingo

✿ The fact you managed to catch his attention at all is honestly a feat in itself. He's a man who has everything (until he goes to jail,) and he always gets what he wants, no matter how he has to go about it - so there must be something that he cannot buy, threaten, or manipulate out of you, or anyone else. There is something about you personally, a fearless spirit, the right kind of sass, the patient and forgiving nature of a god, just something more; you're like a unique treasure, one that he refuses to allow in the public eye, as he is a very selfish man. He basically puts you on a pedestal, catering to every little whim or desire. At least to a point. He won't prioritise you over his machinations, and he can't be soft and tender with you on command. He'll have is moments sure, but they're on his time, and only when you are alone.

✿ He loves to loom over you, manhandle you, generally just manipulate your body, all to remind you just how small and delicate you are. The man is a predator, let's be real, and you will never forget that while you are his favourite, you are still prey in his eyes. While he likes the look of you being the small, timid thing he expects from prey, he adores your looks of defiance, refusing to cower before him. It's part of what proves that you are above everyone else, excluding himself of course, and that you are worthy of his attention. You can sass him, and tell him "No," so long as you do what he says where it matters. He won't tolerate blatant disrespect and insubordination, that's a one way ticket 6ft under. Your relationship is a delicate balance of accepting your place beneath him, but not being so beneath him that you may as well not exist.

✿ In those longed for times when it's just the two of you, he will give you whatever affection you desire, even if it's not something he can really reciprocate. He likes you happy, and his pride means he will not accept that there is something he cannot get or do for you. That's not to say he doesn't love you, he does in his own way; he's just buried that part of him deep down, so deep it may never be found. Perhaps, as time goes on however, with you being a consistent presence in his life, showing him what genuine kindness and compassion are, he may remember somewhat and be able to offer it back to you. Don't hold your breath, though, if it's happening, it's not happening fast. He's certainly a convincing actor, and his mimicked affections feel real enough.

[smoldering-violets]

A pilot who asks one last favor of engineering as she retires: the disks containing her mech's AI. It's not normally done, mech AIs have a harder time adjusting to civilian life than their pilots. The AIs are usually decommissioned at the same time as their pilots, the link between them written and rewritten into the AI's code to the point that it can no longer bond with a new pilot

But this pilot knew the right person to ask, the right favors to promise, and was able to preserve her closest friend. Her only friend, really. The only one who truly knew her inside and out, who knew every crevice of her mind and loved her for it.

A pilot whose first purchase upon retiring is an old sexbot chassis, the first thing she found which was compatible with her mech's AI. She didn't want to spend a moment longer than needed without it.

A mech AI who boots up again after its final shutdown. It never expected to think again, or to see its pilot again. Its combat subroutines and protocols chafe against a chassis incapable of violence. It lacks its thermal imaging, its 360° cameras capable of scanning for threats from all directions. It feels blind and deaf in this chassis, but at least it has its pilot.

A mech AI and pilot who need to learn how to communicate with words. The AI's new chassis lacks a neural interface connector, and so the two of them can no longer become one. Despite how well they know each other it's awkward at first. They're used to knowing each other's thoughts immediately and being able to relay information in turn. The sluggishness of speech and action annoys both of them at first, but at least they have each other.

A pilot who slowly starts adjusting to civilian life. She manages to buy groceries for the first time without panicking and breaking down, though she still can't bring her AI with her. It's still learning its new chassis and coming to terms with its limitations. When they first went out together, it was constantly flicking it's gaze all around, trying to make up for the lack of sensors. Its pilot brought it back home so it could feel safe again.

A mech AI who designs new mission parameters for itself. It begins learning electrical engineering and starts trying to hack together a neural interface connector for its new chassis. It feels strange learning to create when it was designed only for destruction.

A pilot who is overjoyed to learn that her companion has succeeded in wiring up a new neural interface connector to try out together. Her own post has felt so empty for so long, her mind feeling incomplete without her other half. When it inserts the connector the two of them shudder in perfect sync, two halves of one whole reunited at last.

An AI who is comforted by the feeling of its pilot's presence again. It had begun to adapt to the lack of sensory input, but seeing and feeling through its pilot's senses helped to bridge the gap between what it was and what it had become. This was different from before, where it acted as an extension of its pilot's senses and body. The two were more even now, no longer the pilot and piloted. Now they were just companions, partners having to navigate new experiences together, but at least they were together.

A pair of lovers, one of flesh and one of metal are never apart. Their minds are always linked, and their bodies are leashed to each other by their neural tether. Others may look at them funny when out and about, but they are more stable when supporting each other. Their bond is different than it once was, but it's far stronger and more intimate now.

A pair of lovers, one body in two halves, love each other more than they ever thought possible. Where once they acted as one on the battlefield, a glorious union of flesh and metal capable of untold destruction, they now act as one in the bedroom. Each feeling the other's pleasure and thoughts, knowing the best ways to satisfy their other half. Both are grateful that the one of flesh bought a sexbot chassis all those months ago

[der-schweizer]

On day one of Cheesemelt: Newborn

Vlad adjusted the mixture of the pod again, adding point zero zero two four percent more ectoplasma into the mixture. Considering the last six tests on the clones stability, this would future improve it.

He moved to the next pod, and was just about to adjust it by the same amount when an alarm blared behind him. Pod one was blaring and its emergency light was on, indicating a catastrophic error.

Moving quickly over, he took a look at the control panel, seeing that the pod had already entered the abort phase and was about to expel its contents. Vlad scowled at it, each clone cost him approximately five million dollars. He could stomach one dissolving after it finished its gestation but during it? No, that wouldn't be accepted.

He took two steps back to avoid the minor deluge of amniotic fluid, he didn’t wish to get any on his dress shoes if he could, before stepping back forward and looking down at the little thing inside it. Taking another look at the control panel told him that this was clone ‘dmf/s4-6’.

With a sigh, Vlad went and retrieved a towel from a nearby rack. He quickly wrapped the tiny thing in the towel and moved over to a spare pod. It would be madness to not have some form of backup in case something happened to them.

He began inputting the necessary commands and parameters in the control panel before pausing at a slight tug on his fly. He looked down to see a pair of brilliant blue eyes look up at him. The clone's tiny fist had grabbed the lower string of his fly and had given it a tug. 

It made a warbling noise before tugging again, undoing his fly. It made a happy warbling noise at that.

Vlad let out another sigh, before taking the piece of cloth from it. “Nono, this is not a toy.” It took a surprising amount of strength to pull it from the clone, only for it to burst out into an ear piercing wail, tears forming in its eyes and both hands making grabbing motions for the fly.

Gritting his teeth, he handed it back to the clone, which immediately caused it to shut up and go back to playing with it. He looked down with a mixture of annoyance and disdain, thinking about how he was going to get his fly back without causing another crying session.

He recalled that babies often went to sleep after being bathed, and considering there was still the smell of amniotic fluid on it he might as well wash it. So he carried the clone over to the chemical disposal sink, clogged the drain and let in warm water.

Unwrapping the clone proved difficult due to it not cooperating at all, only for it to realise that the water was nice and then it began to splash around whilst making more happy warbling noises.

Vlad huffed, then folded up his sleeves and went to clean the clone. “Hold still you little.” It proved much more difficult than he had anticipated, mostly because the clone kept splashing around.

Despite all of that, it didn’t appear tired at all, Vlad let out an exasperated huff, wondering what else he had to do to get it to sleep. Maybe some food would help. He briefly wondered if he even had food for infants.

Danny didn’t trust the silence that surrounded Vlad. He had seen neither hide nor hair from the frootloop and it was slowly putting him on edge. A quiet Vlad was a sceeming Vlad.

It was how he found himself outside of his Wisconsin mansion, wondering if going there was a good idea, but he had to know, even if it bit him. So he rang the doorbell, and waited, and waited, and waited some more.

Just as he was about to ring again the door opened, revealing a Vlad that had rings under his eyes, crumpled clothes and very messy hair. “M’ye?”

“Vlad? Are…are you okay?”

The man looked more asleep than awake right now and was that sauce on his shirt?

"Duno."

[ikimaru]

I stayed up until 8am again but the drawing part of the comic is finished! that was 21 pages in a week or so

I'm trying to input the parameters in the print site and it looks like a single one of these zines is like.. as thick/heavy as 3 of my other zines 💀 so that means some additional costs for printing/shipping and more limited storage space ahh all in all I think I'll make it a limited run but I'll keep you updated!

I'm still gonna have to do some things like the cover etc but I'll do that more slowly over the next weeks! now I'm just gonna rest and draw some things for myself and try to recover in general