#Software testing question/answers

[mayspicer]

Girl help I really need to do the test tasks for a new job or else my life is gonna get very bad real soon, but all I want to do is draw ttrpg characters.

[freedomfireflies]

404*

Summary: The one where you and Harry are software engineers on a project for Juno Inc.

And you can’t fucking stand each other.

Word Count: 2.6k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

(Note: This edit is not mine!! I believe the @ is on it, but full credit to the incredible creator! It's so perfect!!)

“What the hell are you still doing here?”

Your eyes never leave the computer screen as Harry’s familiarly snippy question echoes across the empty lab. “Working,” you answer simply.

He snorts as the door falls shut behind him. “It’s two in the fucking morning, I thought you left hours ago.”

“I did. And then I came back.”

You vaguely hear him walk further into the dark room, slipping around the different tables as he moseys his way closer. “Why?”

“S’this fucking sequence,” you mumble, now glaring at the different variants that litter the test. “Every time I run the simulation, the connection fails. And it shouldn’t.”

Your peripheral catches the way he uses his knuckle to push his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. “Is there a missing link?”

“There shouldn’t be. I’ve run it before, and it’s worked fine. But now it’s not. It’s like something is broken.”

“Or missing,” he argues, coming to a stop behind your chair. He studies the project from over your shoulder, and you feel your muscles recoil when you get a whiff of his cologne. “There could be something wrong with the back end.”

“Okay, well, there’s not,” you retort, shooting him a quick glare. “I already checked.”

“Well maybe you missed it. You have a tendency to misplace things.”

“I didn’t misplace it, Harold, I studied every inch of that fucking code, and there was nothing broken or missing.”

He leans back, arms crossing as he regards both you and the program. “Maybe you should check it again.”

“And maybe you should bite me,” you huff, too overworked to deal with the snarky attitude. “I really don’t have time for this today, all right? Can you just leave me to it?”

“I’d like to, but clearly you don’t know what you’re doing,” he replies calmly, and even without looking at him, you can sense his smug smile. “Every time I leave you to it, I come back to find out you’ve wrecked our project.”

Your eyes roll. “First of all, it’s not our project. It’s my project. And second…why are you even here? I thought you had shit to do tonight.”

“I did, but I’m done now.”

“Oh, so, naturally you came back just to annoy me?”

“Naturally.” He places his hand on the desk beside you and leans down, hovering near your arm as he glances over the computer. “There could be something wrong with the framework. Try the sequence again, I wanna see how it behaves.”

“No thanks.”

Harry smirks, and you realize you don’t like how close his face is. “Relax, Tinkerbell, I just wanna help.”

“And I don’t want your help,” you remind him, using your elbow to shove him to the side. “I’ve spent months with this program, it’s my baby, and I will fix it alone.”

“We’re supposed to be working together,” he argues, but it’s much too coy. “So stop being such a bitch and just run the goddamn sequence.”

You snort under your breath as you spin around in your chair to look at him. “It was that bad, huh?”

He settles back against the table behind him, hands shoving into his pockets as he stares right back. “What was bad?”

“The sex.” You jut your chin toward him. “The thing you had to do tonight. It was bad enough that you had to come back here and start swinging your dick around just to feel better.”

He smirks, tongue running over his bottom lip. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Gee, how romantic.”

He exhales an amused laugh and glances around the lab. “She was still hung up on her ex. Think it lasted all of fifteen minutes, and I’m pretty sure she faked it.”

“Well, she was having sex with you. Of course she faked it.”

His smile gets a bit bigger. “Well, I faked it, too.”

“You?” you scoff. “No way. She could have sneezed on your cock, and you still would have cum.”

His head shakes, grinning wildly. “Normally, yeah. But we both just wanted to get out of there.”

“Poor girl.”

“Yeah? What about poor me?”

“Oh, I never feel sorry for you. You always find a way to get what you want eventually.”

His head tilts, green eyes sparkling behind the tortoiseshell frames of his glasses. “Do I?”

“Clearly.” You settle back into your chair, legs crossing. “I mean, have you ever heard the word no in your life?”

“Hear it all the time with you.”

“Exactly. I’m doing you a favor.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. I’m keeping you humble.”

“Is that right?”

“It is.”

That smug look of endearment returns as the lab falls silent. He watches you for quite some time, and you think that you’d pay anything to hear what he’s really thinking.

Then, he smirks. “Good,” he says, and with that, he’s pushing off the desk and striding to you.

He bridges the five-foot gap between you with ease, and you aren’t even afforded the chance to take a breath before he’s grabbing hold of your face and kissing you.

His large body bends in order to reach you in the chair, but you can feel him tugging on you. Encouraging you up and into his hold as you gasp against his mouth and allow him to help you stand.

It’s a seamless dance. Familiar. He grabs onto your hips and slams you onto the desk, knocking a few pens and some of the various equipment out of the way.

His hands are sliding up your shirt. Memorizing the expanse of your skin as his lips press into your neck. Nipping and sucking just below your ear in the way he knows you love.

Your fingers have disappeared into his curls. They’re soft and oddly comforting. Perfect to tug on as you whimper gently and arch your back. Pressing your tits against his chest as he groans.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he murmurs, now sliding his hand toward the zipper on your jeans.

You nod quickly, mewling as you practically buck into his touch.

He smiles, mouth trailing across your jaw, “I was thinking about someone else, too.”

Your lashes flutter shut.

“The whole time,” he carries on, rough fingertips dancing down the front of your underwear. “When I was with her. Couldn’t think about anybody else but you. Every time she’d whine or say my name, I thought about how you’d do it. How you’d sound, how you’d feel.”

Your nails scratch down his black t-shirt, needing more than anything to feel his skin. See it littered with your marks. Your claim.

“She could never do it right,” he tells you, and it makes your stomach wrench. “Never do it like you.”

“Yeah?” you manage to breathe, wiggling in an effort to help him yank your pants down. “S’that why you couldn’t get hard?”

He grins as he flicks his belt undone. “Who says I couldn’t get hard?”

With a rather determined tug, he shoves your panties to the side, large hands stroking through your folds.

“Because if I’m thinking about you,” he whispers, eyes trained on your cunt, “I’m always fucking hard.”

You whine when he thrusts inside, two fingers to start. He’s rarely gentle, but you love it. And so does he, obsessed with the image of your pussy stretching around him. Any part of him. His tongue, his hands, his cock.

He’s bigger than most, and he always makes sure to prep you before he gives you what you really want. Granted, he taunts you with the idea of ruining you and splitting your poor cunt in half each time. Driving himself to the hilt before your tight little hole is ready. He likes the idea of corrupting you for someone else. 

“Relax,” he instructs, soft but firm. “S’gonna hurt a lot more if you don’t.”

You drop your head back and balance yourself on your hands, legs pushed open by his hips. “I’m trying,” you whimper, just to see his jaw clench.

“Gonna have to try harder,” he says, working his fingers into your wet cunt while his glasses slowly begin to slip down his nose. Settling at a crooked angle, and it makes you smile. “Can’t give you my cock if you don’t.”

You push your lips into a pout. “Please, Har.”

He looks up, the veins in his neck prominent as he seems to swallow another groan. “You’re so tight, Tink. Gonna wreck this pretty pussy if I don’t get you stretched.”

“Good,” you moan, thighs shaking as he brings a third finger closer. “Want you to.”

He grins. “Yeah?”

You nod fervently. “Want you to do whatever you want. I’m always good for you. Always fit you.”

“You do,” he agrees quietly, the heel of his hand pressing into your clit as he works through your arousal at a quicker pace. “Always take me so well. Even when it makes you cry.”

You whine again at the thought as he finally yanks his fingers free and moves to retrieve his cock. 

You’re nearly salivating at the idea, scooting toward the edge of the table in preparation as he pulls himself out and steps up to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him. Hard and heavy in his hand, leaking the most delicious looking drops of pre-cum that you’re already thrilled he never offered this other girl.

He runs the tip through your folds a time or two, making you both squirm before he gently begins to push in.

You have to give him props for the amount of restraint he always demonstrates for you. The ability to go slow and be delicate despite the fact all he wants to do is ram himself inside you and settle into your warm cunt.

Like now. You can see the effects of such sluggish movements, the way he holds himself back until he’s sure you’ll be all right. Teeth gritting, muscles tensed, cock throbbing.

You reach out and gently slide his glasses back up, making sure they’re comfortable and that he can see all right before kissing him. “Okay…okay, go.”

He kisses you back quickly before studying you. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you whimper, hooking your leg around his hip. “Need it, Har, please.”

And that’s all it takes for him to sheath himself inside your aching pussy, disappearing completely between your legs as you both moan.

The quiet lab isn’t so quiet anymore, and you throw your arms around his neck as he begins to pull out and push back in.

“There she is,” he grunts, large hand squeezing your thigh to keep you still. “Look at you, Tink, taking me so well.”

“Always,” you exhale, pressing your mouth to his cheek. 

“Better than she ever was,” he continues, setting a quicker rhythm now. “So much better.”

He’s pounding you into the desk, hitting spots that make you see stars, and you clench around him until he gasps.

“Funny how well you take me…when you claim to hate me so much,” he says now, unable to resist needling you, and you whimper.

“I do,” you insist, despite the way you scratch down his back. “Fucking hate you.”

“Yeah?” His hips snap to yours. “S’that why you always beg for my cock?”

You don’t like the insinuation that you beg him for anything, especially when you know that he’s right. But you’re too far gone right now to take care, equally as depraved of pleasure as he seems to be.

The two of you don’t do this often. Maybe once or twice a month, if that. Most of the time, it’s incredibly unfriendly. A quick fuck in the supply closet or in his car in the parking lot. In between quippy remarks about how fucking unhinged the other is. How idiotic, and uncouth, and how goddamn annoying.

Because he is. So endlessly annoying and every day you have to resist the urge to slap those fucking glasses off his face.

But he knows how to fuck. That much is certain, and despite your immeasurable hatred for him, you can’t help but fall victim to his prowess.

In fact, moments like this are about the only time you don’t mind him. That you can actually stand him, and even want to submit to him.

Of course, you’re filled with regret and embarrassment the second you’re both finished, but for these few minutes…you don’t mind.

“Every fucking day,” he continues, holding onto your waist as he buries his cock deeper. “Have to watch you parade around like you’re fucking God’s gift to technology.”

You’d snort if you had enough air in your lungs to do so. 

“In your fucking tight little tank tops and see through dresses,” he seethes, dragging you back to the edge of the desk to angle you the way he likes. “With your hair always up in that stupid ponytail. Just begging to be pulled. To be yanked onto your knees while you take me down your throat.”

Your eyes roll back as you keen into his body. Memories of swallowing around him flooding your mind as you shiver.

Despite his aggravating remarks, he’s always so proud of you when you take his cock down your throat. He knows it’s a lot and he knows he can’t force you to do anything your body isn’t equipped to handle.

But he’s enamored with the way you try. Pleased to see you lick him, suck him, take as much of him as you can. He might hate you, but he praises you more than anybody else ever has.

And it’s one of the main reasons you can’t quit him.

“Then maybe…you shouldn’t look,” you pant, whimpering when he thrusts particularly hard. “I don’t wear that shit for you.”

He snorts, now grabbing onto your wrist and forcing your hand against your clit. He moves your fingers for you, pressing them into the sensitive nerves until you cry out and clamp down on him again.

“No?” he taunts, cock twitching inside you as he nears his release. “Then who do you wear it for, hm? Fucking Sam?”

You make another noise as he pushes your body into more immense pleasure, touch still locked atop yours.

“No, not Sam,” he decides. “Cause Sam can’t do it the way I can. S’why you came to me, isn’t it?”

You don’t dignify this with a response. You don’t have to. He knows.

“Sam can’t make you cum, can he?” Harry continues, almost vengefully as he feels you get closer. “Never fucking could. That’s why you only cum for me.”

It’s blinding. So intense that it makes your entire body ache as you fall victim to the wave of pleasure pulling you under.

He’s right behind you, spilling into your cunt before spilling out of it. Dripping down your legs, down the table, down his thighs as you both ride each other through the bliss.

He doesn’t let you release your clit for at least a good two minutes after, ignoring your pleas for mercy as your body struggles against the sensation.

It’s overwhelming. Hot, sticky, sweaty. He pulls out to go grab a towel from the supply closet before bringing it back and helping you clean up. 

He leaves a few teasing licks to your cunt in the process, and you swat your hand across his head in warning.

He smirks.

Once he’s finished, he pulls your jeans back on and up before tucking himself into his pants to do the same. 

Then, after helping you hop down, he offers you a lopsided grin and pushes his glasses back up.

“Now,” he says coyly, “go be a good girl and run the fucking sequence.”

Next Part:

~ Off the Shelf* (pt. 2)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

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[yurucamp]

hello, i'm very sorry if this is an invasive question, but i remember you used to make games that were visual novels (unless i'm wrong, i apologize!) rather than in rpg maker where you can walk around and explore the environment. i'm curious about what the thought process was behind what format you chose for your games, since i've been wanting to make a game to tell a story too and i feel like i am standing in front of a crossroad. did you always want to make something like fbc rather than in another format? was rpg maker inaccessible or too hard to use when you were first starting out? to me the themes of and the story that fbc tells really fits and feels directly intertwined with being in a game where you have to explore the environment for yourself, so was that what guided you in what format the game would have? you don't have to answer this at all if you don't want to and i hope it's not uncomfortable, i thought to ask because i find your art really beautiful and memorable, so i wondered what thought process went behind this technical side of things and your journey with it, especially since i think the way one experiences a game is also part of the art and story directly, which makes it very interesting, and what your thoughts are about that! i hope you have a good day and/or evening this aside.

oh my gosh, it's not an invasive question at all; there's few questions i'd consider invasive-- in general, i'm more than happy to share as much personal information as possible and lower myself in the eyes of others as much as i can-- but this is not remotely in that field

at first rpg maker was inaccessible for a very boring reason, because i only had an imac i'd inherited from my grandmother, and renpy, unlike rpg maker, runs on mac. (rpg maker mv allegedly runs on mac but this was before it'd come out)

fbc was actually created for the rpg maker format and not the other way around, that is, i thought of the medium first. when i finally built myself a pc and downloaded rpg maker, i started making rooms to test the software, and from that random collection of rooms a story sprung up. i completely agree (regarding the signifigance of medium in telling a story). it's something i struggle a lot with now as i have a million stories and making the decision as to which medium suits them paralyzes me to the point where i don't even get started and just stick to low-commitment illustrations.

hope you're doing well as well, thank you for the question!

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Women pulling Lever on a Drilling Machine, 1978 Lee, Howl & Company Ltd., Tipton, Staffordshire, England photograph by Nick Hedges image credit: Nick Hedges Photography

* * * *

Tim Boudreau 

About the whole DOGE-will-rewrite Social Security's COBOL code in some new language thing, since this is a subject I have a whole lot of expertise in, a few anecdotes and thoughts.

Some time in the early 2000s I was doing some work with the real-time Java team at Sun, and there was a huge defense contractor with a peculiar query: Could we document how much memory an instance of every object type in the JDK uses? And could we guarantee that that number would never change, and definitely never grow, in any future Java version?

I remember discussing this with a few colleagues in a pub after work, and talking it through, and we all arrived at the conclusion that the only appropriate answer to this question as "Hell no." and that it was actually kind of idiotic.

Say you've written the code, in Java 5 or whatever, that launches nuclear missiles. You've tested it thoroughly, it's been reviewed six ways to Sunday because you do that with code like this (or you really, really, really should). It launches missiles and it works.

A new version of Java comes out. Do you upgrade? No, of course you don't upgrade. It works. Upgrading buys you nothing but risk. Why on earth would you? Because you could blow up the world 10 milliseconds sooner after someone pushes the button?

It launches fucking missiles. Of COURSE you don't do that.

There is zero reason to ever do that, and to anyone managing such a project who's a grownup, that's obvious. You don't fuck with things that work just to be one of the cool kids. Especially not when the thing that works is life-or-death (well, in this case, just death).

Another case: In the mid 2000s I trained some developers at Boeing. They had all this Fortran materials analysis code from the 70s - really fussy stuff, so you could do calculations like, if you have a sheet of composite material that is 2mm of this grade of aluminum bonded to that variety of fiberglass with this type of resin, and you drill a 1/2" hole in it, what is the effect on the strength of that airplane wing part when this amount of torque is applied at this angle. Really fussy, hard-to-do but when-it's-right-it's-right-forever stuff.

They were taking a very sane, smart approach to it: Leave the Fortran code as-is - it works, don't fuck with it - just build a nice, friendly graphical UI in Java on top of it that *calls* the code as-is.

We are used to broken software. The public has been trained to expect low quality as a fact of life - and the industry is rife with "agile" methodologies *designed* to churn out crappy software, because crappy guarantees a permanent ongoing revenue stream. It's an article of faith that everything is buggy (and if it isn't, we've got a process or two to sell you that will make it that way).

It's ironic. Every other form of engineering involves moving parts and things that wear and decay and break. Software has no moving parts. Done well, it should need *vastly* less maintenance than your car or the bridges it drives on. Software can actually be *finished* - it is heresy to say it, but given a well-defined problem, it is possible to actually *solve* it and move on, and not need to babysit or revisit it. In fact, most of our modern technological world is possible because of such solved problems. But we're trained to ignore that.

Yeah, COBOL is really long-in-the-tooth, and few people on earth want to code in it. But they have a working system with decades invested in addressing bugs and corner-cases.

Rewriting stuff - especially things that are life-and-death - in a fit of pique, or because of an emotional reaction to the technology used, or because you want to use the toys all the cool kids use - is idiotic. It's immaturity on display to the world.

Doing it with AI that's going to read COBOL code and churn something out in another language - so now you have code no human has read, written and understands - is simply insane. And the best software translators plus AI out there, is going to get things wrong - grievously wrong. And the odds of anyone figuring out what or where before it leads to disaster are low, never mind tracing that back to the original code and figuring out what that was supposed to do.

They probably should find their way off COBOL simply because people who know it and want to endure using it are hard to find and expensive. But you do that gradually, walling off parts of the system that work already and calling them from your language-du-jour, not building any new parts of the system in COBOL, and when you do need to make a change in one of those walled off sections, you migrate just that part.

We're basically talking about something like replacing the engine of a plane while it's flying. Now, do you do that a part-at-a-time with the ability to put back any piece where the new version fails? Or does it sound like a fine idea to vaporize the existing engine and beam in an object which a next-word-prediction software *says* is a contraption that does all the things the old engine did, and hope you don't crash?

The people involved in this have ZERO technical judgement.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 6 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: At the Hard Deck, Bradley learns something about the origins of your friendship with Cam that leaves him feeling out of sorts. You call him out on his behavior and reassure him that he's always more than enough for you. Then he takes you away for a Valentine's trip, and he can finally surprise you with something unique.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing

Length: 4700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley thought he was hilarious with the way he refused to tell you where you and he were going for the night on Friday. He wouldn't even tell you how you were getting there. All he said every time you asked was, "Just pack a bag and find out."

"Infuriating," you whispered to yourself at work on Thursday. When you heard footsteps coming up behind you in the hallway, you turned to see Jake rushing your way. "Seriously? Don't you ever work?"

"Come on, Angel," he whined. "I'm gonna ask her out. I just need one more shot at talking to her."

You sighed and said, "Fine. Come on. We could actually use your help."

A few minutes later, Jake looked absolutely delighted as Cat had him sit down on the stool next to hers. "Ready?" she asked him. "There are a lot of questions."

"I'm ready," he replied, eyes glued to her face as she opened the aviation survey document on her computer. It wasn't like this needed to be completed today. The software was still in the testing stage. But you knew this would be a good excuse to keep Jake in the lab for a little while and let him engage with Cat.

"Name, age, rank and aircraft. Please," she asked him. You tried to sit quietly and work further down the counter, but you were half focused on them. 

"Jacob C. Seresin. Thirty three. Lieutenant. F/A-18." His voice was calm and even as he answered her, but you could see his leg bouncing a little bit. He was so smitten it was absolutely ridiculous. 

"What does the C stand for?" she asked, entering his information.

"That's classified," he told her with a smirk.

She turned to look at him with a smirk of her own. "Your full name is Jacob Classified Seresin?"

You had to press your lips together as Jake started laughing. "Shoulda thought that one through a little better," he drawled with a blush. "It actually stands for Christopher." 

"Where are you from, Lieutenant Classified?" she asked, and he leaned in to look at her screen. 

"Is that actually a question?"

"No," she said softly. "I was just curious about your accent."

Jake's voice sounded smug as hell as he said, "It's not an accent, Lieutenant Coleman. It's a drawl." And then you were forced to listen to their flirtation mixed in with the real survey questions for the better part of an hour. 

When Cat was finally done gathering information about Jake's flight history, you were surprised she didn't also have his phone number. "Thanks for your help," she told him as they both stood. 

"Anytime, Lieutenant," Jake replied. And when he walked past you, he whispered, "I owe you one, Angel."

Once he was gone, you stared at Cat until she looked at you. "If you're interested in big, strong aviators, all you have to do is ask," you told her. "I think he'd happily go out with you."

She scoffed and waved you off. "He's just fun to flirt with a tiny bit. Absolutely none of that was serious." 

"Speak for yourself," you muttered.

"Besides, he would never go for a woman like me. At least not for more than a date or two. Maybe a long weekend, if you catch my drift. And after my ex husband, I'm done playing games. Like I said, Lieutenant Seresin is nice to look at, but under no circumstances will I touch."

"Never?" you asked softly.

Cat planted her hand on the counter and leaned toward you. "He gets around, Lieutenant Commander. Women on base brag about it. And I've seen how he is at the bar. Just surrounded at all times."

Once again, you didn't know how to respond.

"But your friend, Cam?" she asked, giving you a pointed look. "He seems sweet."

You remained silent. Cat was beautiful. If she wanted to go out with Jake, she could go out with Jake. If she wanted to go out with Cam, she could go out with Cam. She could probably get pretty much any guy to ask her out if she wanted to. But if she was just going to flirt with Jake, because she thought it was no big deal, then Jake might end up getting hurt in the process if she moved on with someone else. 

And then your suspicions started to come true. When you went down to eat lunch with Bradley at noon, you saw Cat and Jake at a small table together. So his reputation was terrible, but not so bad that she didn't want to keep flirting? You sat with your head in your hands until Bradley and Nat joined you.

"What's wrong?" Nat asked, taking the seat across from you. "And where's Jake? He told me he was eating with us."

"He's over there," you said, nodding your head in his direction where he was sitting with Cat. "And she's flirting with him."

"Isn't that good?" Bradley asked, dropping down into the seat next to you. 

"No," you groaned. "She likes Cam. She thinks Jake is a womanizer who would never be interested in her. She thinks this is just some harmless flirting."

"Oof, he's about to get shot down isn't he?" Nat asked, and now all there of you were watching across the cafeteria as Cat and Jake smiled at each other. Then Jake leaned in a little closer, and Cat bit her lip. 

"Oh no," you whispered, reaching for Bradley's hand as your heart pounded. "Maybe he is a bit of a womanizer?" you asked. "I've seen that look on his face before. He's asking her out."

Bradley laced his fingers with yours. "He's not doing that kind of thing anymore," he told you and Nat. "He seems to be ready to settle down in a relationship. Been talking about it for months. Oh no, there he goes."

Nat gasped as Jake stroked the back of Cat's hand with his thumb. Her smile faltered and she kind of shrugged and shook her head. Even though you couldn't hear them, you had a pretty good idea of how the conversation was going. Cat's hand slid away from his, and soon she was standing to leave.

"Yikes," Nat whispered as the three of you scrambled to make it appear as though you hadn't been watching Jake get turned down. "That was so surreal. Looked exactly like the day you asked your wife out and she told you no," she added to Bradley, trying not to laugh now. "Remember that, Soul Sister?"

Bradley placed a loud, sloppy kiss on your cheek and said, "She came around eventually. One kiss and she was begging me to take her on a date."

You rolled your eyes. "I would love to dispute that, but it's actually the truth."

"Hey, guys," Jake said, gingerly sitting down next to Nat. His face was completely neutral, and his voice was even. But you could tell he was upset. 

"Hangman," Bradley grunted. And then he and Nat filled up the silence before it became too much while you picked at your food. And Jake just sat quietly. 

--------------------------

"Hard Deck night, Baby Girl," Bradley reminded you when you walked inside after work. 

You were tired, and you didn't really feel like going out. The bar would be packed, just like it was every Thursday night, and you were starting to get crampy, which meant your period was coming. "You don't want to stay in?" you asked, pouting up at him. "We could take a bath together."

Bradley ran his thumb along your pouty lips. "We can stay in if you want to, Sweetheart. Let me text Nat and tell her."

Then you kissed his thumb and said, "No, we can go. But maybe we can leave early. I'm exhausted."

Famous last words. At ten o'clock, you were kind of drunk, Bradley's hands were all over you, and Cat was waving you up to the bar. "I'll be right back, Roo," you told him, slipping away before he could keep you with him. Bradley watched you chatting with you coworker, happy you seemed to be getting along with her now. 

"I gotta know, man. How do you grow such a good mustache?"

Bradley turned just in time for Cam to try to lean against the edge of the pool table, miss completely and nealy land on his face. Shit, he was as at least as drunk as you were. 

"Genetics," Bradley said, thinking of nearly every damn photo he had of Goose sporting the same facial hair. Cam had a bit of a baby face, and the idea of him with a mustache was almost laughable. 

Then you walked back over in a state of annoyance. "Oh good, you're here," you said to Cam. "Mr. Popularity."

"What do you mean?" he asked, stroking his bare upper lip. 

"You know my coworker Cat? She just told me Jake asked her out, but that she'd rather go out with you."

Cam blinked a few times and then burst into laughter, leaning on Bradley while he hooted. "That's such a funny joke!"

"I'm serious! Roo, tell him I'm serious."

"She's serious," Bradley said, sipping his beer and trying not to get involved in this conversation. 

"Nobody would pick me over that guy," Cam replied, pointing to Jake. "He's fucking ripped! And his hair is always perfect. And he can do that thing with his mouth and the toothpicks!"

You started laughing and said, "I tried to tell Cat you're nothing special."

"Wow," Cam said, feigning offense, "you're the worst friend ever. Where's Maria?"

"Wait," you said, still laughing while you grabbed his hand. "Just because your repertoire of talents did nothing for me doesn't mean you're not as good as Jake!"

Bradley choked on his beer, remembering what he had overheard you say to Jake. "I'm sorry. What?"

You both turned to look at him, and Cam's cheeks were turning pink. 

"The two of you hooked up?" Bradley asked, wondering why this was something he'd only been hearing about recently. Cam slowly backed away from him, suddenly looking like he was afraid Bradley might hit him. And that's when Bradley realized that his tone definitely sounded a little threatening, but he couldn't take it back now.

"It was ten years ago!" Cam quickly supplied, taking a step to his left once he realized he was standing right next to you. 

"Didn't I tell you this, Roo?" you asked, still smiling at Bradley as you cocked your head to the side. 

"No. Never," he replied, annoyed at himself for being annoyed about this. It clearly didn't matter at all. It had nothing to do with your marriage. But Cam was the same age as you, and in many ways he was probably well suited for you. 

"There's literally nothing to tell," Cam insisted.

"Yeah," you agreed. "It didn't mean anything. We were twenty one. It didn't work for either of us, so we stopped what we were doing and decided to just be friends. Because Cam's moves were decidedly terrible at that age."

"God, you're so annoying," Cam told you with a grin. "You think you had moves? You did not. All you had back then was nice tits."

"Jesus," Bradley growled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Because even though this happened ten years ago, suddenly he was wondering about all the details. 

"There was no penetration," you said casually.

"No penetration of any kind," Cam confirmed. 

"Then what was there?" Bradley asked as you laced your fingers with his.

"Wait, do fingers count?" Cam asked you, scratching his head. "No, fingers don't count, right? Whatever, all I did was feel her up."

"I wasn't good," you added. "Just friends after that."

"Yep," Cam confirmed, giving Bradley some side eye. "She likes big guys. Muscular ones. Mustaches. Which is exactly why nobody who turned down Jake Seresin would say yes to me."

You rolled your eyes and said, "That's so not true."

Bradley wanted all of the details and none of them at the same time as he pulled you a little closer. But then Cam handed you his drink and said, "Really? Watch this."

"Oh no," you muttered, gasping and clinging to Bradley as Cam walked away.

"Sweetheart, why didn't you ever tell me you and Cam messed around? I hate being blindsided by this shit. You hang out with him all the time."

But you weren't listening to him. You weren't even looking at him. Cam was walking confidently over to Cat, and suddenly he was leaning against the bar next to her, occasionally glancing this way. After a moment, Cat looked delighted, and Cam looked completely shocked. 

"He asked her out!" you moaned, burying your face against Bradley's chest. "Poor Jake!"

When Bradley's eyes found Jake, he was glaring daggers from the dartboard over toward Cam and Cat. "Oh, shit," he muttered, wrapping his arm a little tighter around you. "This is a fucking disaster."

"It really is," you whispered.

-------------------------

Jake was upset. You could see it on his face. And now Cam looked concerned. When you tried to talk to him, all he said was, "Apparently I have a date on Saturday night."

And before Cat left the bar for the night, she had a smile on her face as she came over to you and Bradley. "Any idea where I might be able to find a good babysitter for Saturday evening?"

"Babysitter?" Bradley asked her, and you couldn't help but see how his expression changed as he asked Cat, "Do you have a kid?"

"Yes," she replied, looking a little surprised. "I thought you would have told your husband. I have a son. He's a year old."

You desperately wanted her date with Cam to suck, and that made you feel like a shitty person all around. So you were suddenly blurting out, "We can watch him." The look on Bradley's face as he registered that he'd get to spend a few hours playing with a one year old, made your heart clench. 

"Yeah, you can drop him off with us," he told Cat, and tears stung your eyes. You had cramps. You'd probably get your period right in the middle of the overnight trip tomorrow night. But you just nodded, because even though Cat was going out with Cam instead of Jake, and even though you still weren't pregnant, you knew Bradley would have fun babysitting.

On the ride home, you were starting to get upset as you sobered up a bit more. You didn't want your mood to make you miserable for your night away. 

Bradley was pretty quiet until he asked, "Why didn't you tell me about you and Cam?"

"Nothing to tell," you replied softly. It was the truth. You'd harbored a bit of a crush on your friend at first; he was sweet and funny and you had all of your classes with him. You had spent a lot of time together, and you trusted him. And one night, despite both of your best efforts, it just didn't work when you tried to hookup. 

"But you spend a lot of time with him now. So what? Your attraction to him just stopped after one night?" Bradley grunted. "You go out to brunch with Cam and Maria all the time for that disgusting avocado toast. Hell, you make me spend so much time with him, I know what kind of pizza he likes and what he orders at the burger shack."

"Oh my god, Bradley. Exactly. He's just my friend! You know what kind of pizza he likes, because I want you to spend time with my friends!"

"But you clearly care about him."

"Bradley! You lived a whole life with other women before we met!"

"I never cared about them! I never loved them! Cam is your friend, and you care about him."

As soon as he parked the Bronco in the driveway, you were unbuckling your seatbelt and crawling into his lap. "What has gotten into you, Roo?" you asked, straddling his thighs and forcing him to look at you. "Cam? You're jealous of Cam in this moment? Knock it the fuck off."

"I'm sorry," he muttered, wrapping his arms around you. "I just didn't like the way I found out about it. Which isn't fair to you at all. Because you're right...about my past. And I know it has to embarrass you sometimes-"

You silenced him with a kiss as you brushed your fingers through his hair. When your forehead came to rest against his, you said, "Don't talk about yourself like that. You want all the details? We did not date. Cam and I ended up in his bed exactly one time. He was hard until I put my hand down his pants. I was excited until he took my bra off. Then we laughed awkwardly, called it quits, and watched a movie with three feet of space between us. So if you can't get onboard with the avocado toast brunches now, I don't even know what to say."

Bradley laughed a little bit. "I love you, and I'm sorry. I've just been... feeling my age recently, Baby Girl."

"What does that mean?" you asked, pressing your lips to his scarred cheek. 

He sighed. "Just trying to make sure I can keep up with you and everything you want."

"I want you."

"I know you do," he whispered.

"Then start acting like it, Bradley. Or I'll call you Grandpa instead of Daddy."

He was silent for a beat as you ran your hand down the front of his body. "You wanna go have some Daddy time right now?"

"It's like you can read my mind."

-------------------------

Bradley wore you out on Thursday night, and you were still tired on Friday after work when he drove up the coastal roads to the mysterious hotel he booked for the night. "Will you please tell me where you're taking me?" you asked for the millionth time. 

But he just laughed and said, "The funny thing is, I'm not really sure, Sweetheart. It's some crazy hotel called Le Chateau California, and I'm really only taking you there because they have something I think you'll love."

"What is it?" you asked, suddenly even more curious. 

"I'm not telling. We'll have to experience it for ourselves," he said, reaching for your bare thigh and stroking your skin.

"Are we there yet?" you whined. "How much further? I want my surprise." 

"You're worse than a child," he said with a smile, inching his hand further up under your dress. "We'll be there in twenty minutes. We're having dinner at eight, and you'll see the surprise then."

Bradley was great at teasing you, but this was perhaps his best effort to date. His fingers were just tucked inside your panties, stroking you while you tried to sit patiently, as he pulled up to a colorful boutique hotel on the outskirts of Newport Beach. "What is this place?" you asked him, whining again as he pulled his hand free before the valet could see where it had been. 

"Let's go find out," he said with a smirk. When you strolled into the lobby that looked like you'd fallen down the rabbit hole into Wonderland, Bradley wrapped his arm around your waist. 

"This is so cool," you gasped, still a little wound up from Bradley's fingers on your pussy. 

You were looking up at him with barely concealed lust. He had both overnight bags slung over his left shoulder like it was nothing. And when the woman at the concierge desk asked for the last name on the reservation, your core clenched as he rasped, "The Bradshaws."

As he handed over his credit card, you whimpered softly. His wide brown eyes were on yours as you pressed your lips together. Then he was smiling, but he didn't pick up the pace like you wanted him to. He asked the woman where the restaurant was located. He listened to her tell him more about the history of the hotel. He asked her another question as she handed over the room keys. He forced your hand. 

"Please?" you whispered, pressing yourself to his side. 

When he finally led you across the technicolor lobby toward the purple elevators, he pushed the up arrow and said, "We have dinner in twenty minutes."

You nearly wanted to stomp your foot. "You can fuck me in less time than that."

"You told me I'm never fast," he replied as the doors slid open. "So, probably not, Baby Girl."

"Bradley!" you screeched as soon as you and he were alone in the elevator. "I won't make it through dinner and you know it!" 

He kissed your lips so softly before the elevator stopped on your floor. "I love it when you get like this," he said as you tripped down the hallway next to him. "Go in and get ready for me." He handed you one of the keys, and you ran down the hallway that looked like a multicolored fever dream, barely taking the time to enjoy any of it. 

The hotel room was colorful and spacious with a king bed and a Juliet balcony. There was a view of the beach and some champagne in an ice bucket. But all you were concerned about was getting your underwear off and getting on the bed. 

Bradley strolled in and set the bags down before adjusting the thermostat. He tossed his sunglasses on the nightstand and combed his fingers through his hair before turning to watch you where you were laying on the bed with your dress pulled up to your waist. "Get on your knees," he rasped, and you did as you were told. Then his hands and lips were all over your butt and thighs before tasting you from behind.

"Bradley!" you gasped. You'd never get used to how good it felt to have him surprise you there with his mustache. And then you heard him unzip his jeans before wrapping one muscular arm around you and fucking you hard. You rocked forward onto your hands as he slammed into you. 

"You're so impatient," he grunted. "Can't even make it to dinner and to your surprise unless you're full of my cum."

It was going to be embarrassing how quickly you came for him when he was dishing out the smug dirty talk. But when his fingers stroked you in time with his thrusts, you smiled and bit your lip. The colorful bedding and walls around the room made you feel a little dizzy, but nothing compared to the sensation when Bradley hit just the right spot inside you and gently spanked your clit.

"Fuck!" you squealed, clenching so hard he groaned your name. 

"Shit, Baby Girl," he growled, filling you up with his cum. But you were already there, face planted in the pillows to keep yourself quiet as you came. When you picked your head up a few inches and turned to look back at him while he was still inside you, he rubbed one big palm along your butt. "Sorry I finished so fast. You look pretty with your ass in the air," he whispered. 

You pushed yourself up on shaky arms. "And you look pretty with your cock inside me."

He chuckled and withdrew himself, and then he ran his fingers along your pussy like he was massaging his cum back inside you. "I'm not ovulating anymore, Roo," you reminded him. He could cum inside you all weekend and it wouldn't make a difference. 

"Doesn't matter," he whispered, leaning down to kiss your butt, thighs and pussy once more. "It's not going to make me want to stop giving you creampies all the time." You sighed softly as he finally stood, and you watched him walk around the bed with his cock hanging out of his jeans. "It's almost time for our dinner reservation," he reminded you as he walked into the bathroom. 

You rolled onto your back, legs clenched together as his mess coated your thighs. While you listened to him wash his hands, you closed your eyes and wished desperately that you were pregnant. You thought about everything that would change for you if you were, and you knew you'd be ready for it. 

"Coming?" he asked, reaching out for your hand. Bradley pulled you to your feet and helped you back into your underwear, looking up at you and shaking his head at the sight of his cum everywhere. He wasn't old. It blew your mind that he sometimes thought he was. He was better and sexier and stronger than anyone younger. He was everything you wanted.

"Let's go."

----------------------------

Bradley spent almost seven hundred dollars for the hotel room for the night. It was another fifty bucks to valet the Bronco, and the prices on the dinner menu in the swanky restaurant were so high, he thought they must be joking. But he wanted you to have whatever you wanted, so he ordered a twenty dollar beer so you would, too. And he ordered exactly what he wanted to eat so you would, too. 

He'd tapped out his savings when he bought the craftsman for the two of you, including the money his mom left for him. But he'd been working on building up his savings again. The dream of making one of the bedrooms a nursery sometime in the near future was clawing away at his mind. He thought about it a lot: colorful airplanes and clouds on the walls and a crib with a sweet baby that had his hair and your eyes. 

His attention was drawn back to the present as soon as the waiter returned with your beers and a platter of bread and fruit. The colorful overhead light was reflecting blue, green and orange onto your pretty face as you glanced up with a look of wonder at the waiter. Because he was now saying the words Bradley had been waiting weeks for you to hear. It was the reason he wanted to book a room as soon as he heard about this hotel. 

"While you wait for your entrees, feel free to walk around and explore our wall of condiments from around the world, our champagne waterfall, and our hot sauce vending machine."

You lurched in your seat. "Did you say hot sauce vending machine?!"

"Yes," the waiter replied with a smile, nodding to the far end of the restaurant. "Have fun."

"Bradley!" you shrieked. "They have a hot sauce vending machine!"

He grinned as you pulled him to his feet. "I know, Baby Girl. That's why I brought you here."

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss that was better suited for the bedroom, but Bradley didn't care that there was a couple trying to eat at the next table. You were happy right now when there were times recently that you clearly hadn't been, so they'd just have to deal. 

Bradley eventually led you to the vending machine which was enormous and filled with tiny bottles of hundreds of different kinds of sauces. You stood before it in the colorful wonderland of a restaurant, analyzing each one like this was the most important work assignment of your career. 

"That's one's from Japan," you mused out loud, pointing to a green bottle. "I've always wanted to try it. Oh, and that one is made in Maryland! We need to get that one."

"Pick as many as you want, Sweetheart. They come with the meal." You actually jumped up and down and clapped your hands as you pushed the buttons to select twenty two different hot sauces, loading Bradley's arms up with the little bottles one at a time.

Then you stopped at the champagne fountain and got two glasses to take back as well. The waiter brought your dinners and some extra plates for all of the hot sauces, and you lined them up across the table. "I think I'm in heaven," you said, dipping your fork into a sauce and tasting it. 

Bradley watched you enjoy the flavor before dipping the fork again and holding it out to him. Your smile and the expectant look on your face as he tasted it made him happy, too. "I know I'm in heaven."

------------------------

How do we feel about Cam and Cat? How do we feel about Cam and BG? I also have a Cam face grab. The hot sauce vending machine is for @dakotakazansky !Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

[gingiesworld]

Fatal Attraction

Chapter Two

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/Wanda Maximoff x Jarvis Stark

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

Taglist : @natashamaximoff-69 @canvascoloredin @wizardofstories @louxbloom @wandanats-goodgirl @the-ox-fan20 @ladyqueenxoxo @aemilia19 @wandaromamoff69 @mfd-101 @dorabledewdroop @marvelogic

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda was excited to start her first day at Oscorp, of course she never told Jarvis where she was working. Oscorp and Stark Industries are the biggest rivals in the USA, both companies sell high tech software and Oscorp also sell pharmaceuticals and weapons, something which Tony had stopped Stark Industries manufacturing. So Stark had lost a lot of investors due to lack of materials.

"Why are you up so early?" Jarvis asked his wife as she sat at the table, a cup of coffee in one hand and a slice of toast in the other.

"I have my first day today." She told him as she put the cup down, gathering her things.

"What time will you be home?" He questioned as she raised her brow. "I just want to know if I should expect dinner or not when I walk through the door."

"Seriously?" She scoffed as he gazed at her. "I am not a little housewife. It is not my job to mother you!" She left the toast and coffee on the table as she grabbed her purse, heading straight to the door. "Don't expect me to cook dinner for you tonight." She told him before she slammed the door behind her. Heading straight into the cold city air as she walked to Oscorp. Making her way up to the top floor after retrieving her I.D. badge.

"Wanda, good morning." Jean greeted her as she entered the office.

"Good morning. How are you and the little one?" She asked her as Jean smiled, resting her hand on her stomach.

"We are both great." She answered before Y/N walked in, three cups and a bag of donuts.

"Green tea for Jean, coffee for me and coffee for Wanda." They handed them the cups before placing the donuts on the desk. "And breakfast." The two women thanked them before Jean handed them a file.

"You have a meeting with Dr Stacy about the new antibiotic." Jean told them as they nodded.

"Would you spend this week showing Wanda how everything is done here?" They asked her. "I want her to know everything before you leave but if she doesn't get everything, I will always help if you need me." They told the two who just nodded. Wanda watched as they disappeared down the hall and towards the elevator.

"They don't really get a moment." Jean told Wanda who nodded, grabbing a seat beside the pregnant woman. "You seemed to be upset when you came in." Jean observed as Wanda shook her head.

"Just marital problems." Wanda shrugged as Jean looked at her shocked.

"But you're so young." She whispered as Wanda chuckled.

"We have been together forever." Wanda told her, soon interrupted by the phone ringing, watching as Jean showed her how to get into Y/N's schedule. Wanda was shocked at how many meetings they had in a day, and what time they actually finished work.

"They also never really rest." Jean told her.

"I can see." Wanda nodded as she swallowed.

"You won't be staying that long unless they need you for an emergency." Jean told her. "But the overtime is generous." The two had gone on with Jean showing Wanda how to use the company software and how to make the changes as Y/N headed towards the labs.

"So, how far along is the process?" They asked her as she looked up from her tablet.

"It is almost done, we just need to start trials soon." Gwen started. "It is supposed to be stronger than your average oral antibiotic, tackling the source of the infection. We have tried it on a test dummy but we won't get sufficient results until we open up for human trials."

"Get the FDA to sign off on the trials first." They told her as she handed them another file.

"We have also had to adjust the formula of the tranquilizers." She informed them. "The old formula was." She made a face. "It was too potent."

"Just keep me informed, inform the FDA and get that approval." They told her before they walked away with the new files in their hands. Once Y/N had made it back to the office, they spotted both Jean and Wanda chatting comfortably. "Ms Maximoff, a word please." They held the office door open for her which she had quickly moved inside. "Please, have a seat." Wanda was quick to follow their order as they placed the files down in their growing pile. "I assume that Jean has shown you most of the database."

"Yes." Wanda answered as Y/N smiled at her.

"Wanda." They stood up from their seat and looked out of the window for a brief moment before continuing. "I had to do some of my own research and it seems that your husband is none other than the son of Anthony Stark."

"I can explain." She tried, thinking she was going to lose her job.

"I know you can." They gave her a smile. "But I also have another contract for you to sign. It protects the assets of Oscorp and its investors." They reached inside their draw for a binded contract. "It pretty much states that you cannot speak of anything that happens inside of this building, or you will be facing a lawsuit." Wanda nodded in understanding, of course she hated the idea of lying to her husband but she needed to earn her way, not like anyone would understand. She held out her hand for a pen which they handed her one from their pen pot. "Just a quick question darling." They asked as they took the contract. "Why do you want to work if being Jarvis Stark's wife provides for you?"

"I want to be able to earn my own money." She told them honestly. "I don't want to be known as Jarvis Stark's pretty little wife."

"Then why did you marry him?" They questioned as she bit the inside of her cheek. A small smirk formed on their face before they smiled guiltily at her. "My apologies, it isn't my place."

"I love him." She told them, her eye contact never faltering. "I have loved him since the moment he asked me out, as nervous as he was for being the infamous Tony Stark's son. He was the complete opposite to his father, he was sweet and loyal, kind and caring."

"You said that as in the past tense." They told her. "So, you don't think he is the same man you fell in love with?"

"Are you my shrink?" Wanda questioned with a raised brow, making Y/N chuckle lightly before leaning on the desk before her.

"I just want the best for my employees Wanda." They told her, nothing but genuine affirmation of the words laced their tone. "I know the people outside of this company think I am heartless. A power hungry being but I only want what's right for every one who works for Oscorp, that is what Norman taught me before he left me as the sole successor of his company." Wanda listened as they spoke. "The company is as strong as the people who run it. I just keep everything in order, it's the employees who keep Oscorp running, their ideas, their knowledge, their creations keep Oscorp from going underground."

"I can say that I was one of those people." Wanda whispered as Y/N laughed a little.

"Wanda, you are now one of the people who keep Oscorp running too. You keep me on schedule and arrange the appointments for the investors." They rested their hand on her shoulder. "So I only have your best interests at heart." With that they grabbed their next file before heading to the door with Wanda following. "Just know you can always come to me." With that they opened the door for her before heading to Jean.

"Mr Fisk is downstairs." She informed them.

"Why don't you both order lunch? Take a break." They suggested, before they headed to the elevator, leaving Wanda pondering their last conversation.

"What is the deal with them and Norman?" Wanda asked Jean who shook her head.

"That is not my place to tell." She told her. "I only knew because I was Norman's assistant before Y/N took over."

"So you've been here longer?" She questioned as Jean shook her head.

"No, Y/N was always here, shadowing him, learning how to run the company. They even helped with the Glider Project." Jean told her. "Of course it failed, an accident happened and well, Norman scrapped it."

Wanda was most certainly drawn into the mystery that is Y/N Y/L/N.

[mariacallous]

Arvind Narayanan, a computer science professor at Princeton University, is best known for calling out the hype surrounding artificial intelligence in his Substack, AI Snake Oil, written with PhD candidate Sayash Kapoor. The two authors recently released a book based on their popular newsletter about AI’s shortcomings.

But don’t get it twisted—they aren’t against using new technology. “It's easy to misconstrue our message as saying that all of AI is harmful or dubious,” Narayanan says. He makes clear, during a conversation with WIRED, that his rebuke is not aimed at the software per say, but rather the culprits who continue to spread misleading claims about artificial intelligence.

In AI Snake Oil, those guilty of perpetuating the current hype cycle are divided into three core groups: the companies selling AI, researchers studying AI, and journalists covering AI.

Hype Super-Spreaders

Companies claiming to predict the future using algorithms are positioned as potentially the most fraudulent. “When predictive AI systems are deployed, the first people they harm are often minorities and those already in poverty,” Narayanan and Kapoor write in the book. For example, an algorithm previously used in the Netherlands by a local government to predict who may commit welfare fraud wrongly targeted women and immigrants who didn’t speak Dutch.

The authors turn a skeptical eye as well toward companies mainly focused on existential risks, like artificial general intelligence, the concept of a super-powerful algorithm better than humans at performing labor. Though, they don’t scoff at the idea of AGI. “When I decided to become a computer scientist, the ability to contribute to AGI was a big part of my own identity and motivation,” says Narayanan. The misalignment comes from companies prioritizing long-term risk factors above the impact AI tools have on people right now, a common refrain I’ve heard from researchers.

Much of the hype and misunderstandings can also be blamed on shoddy, non-reproducible research, the authors claim. “We found that in a large number of fields, the issue of data leakage leads to overoptimistic claims about how well AI works,” says Kapoor. Data leakage is essentially when AI is tested using part of the model’s training data—similar to handing out the answers to students before conducting an exam.

While academics are portrayed in AI Snake Oil as making “textbook errors,” journalists are more maliciously motivated and knowingly in the wrong, according to the Princeton researchers: “Many articles are just reworded press releases laundered as news.” Reporters who sidestep honest reporting in favor of maintaining their relationships with big tech companies and protecting their access to the companies’ executives are noted as especially toxic.

I think the criticisms about access journalism are fair. In retrospect, I could have asked tougher or more savvy questions during some interviews with the stakeholders at the most important companies in AI. But the authors might be oversimplifying the matter here. The fact that big AI companies let me in the door doesn’t prevent me from writing skeptical articles about their technology, or working on investigative pieces I know will piss them off. (Yes, even if they make business deals, like OpenAI did, with the parent company of WIRED.)

And sensational news stories can be misleading about AI’s true capabilities. Narayanan and Kapoor highlight New York Times columnist Kevin Roose’s 2023 chatbot transcript interacting with Microsoft's tool headlined “Bing’s A.I. Chat: ‘I Want to Be Alive. 😈’” as an example of journalists sowing public confusion about sentient algorithms. “Roose was one of the people who wrote these articles,” says Kapoor. “But I think when you see headline after headline that's talking about chatbots wanting to come to life, it can be pretty impactful on the public psyche.” Kapoor mentions the ELIZA chatbot from the 1960s, whose users quickly anthropomorphized a crude AI tool, as a prime example of the lasting urge to project human qualities onto mere algorithms.

Roose declined to comment when reached via email and instead pointed me to a passage from his related column, published separately from the extensive chatbot transcript, where he explicitly states that he knows the AI is not sentient. The introduction to his chatbot transcript focuses on “its secret desire to be human” as well as “thoughts about its creators,” and the comment section is strewn with readers anxious about the chatbot’s power.

Images accompanying news articles are also called into question in AI Snake Oil. Publications often use clichéd visual metaphors, like photos of robots, at the top of a story to represent artificial intelligence features. Another common trope, an illustration of an altered human brain brimming with computer circuitry used to represent the AI’s neural network, irritates the authors. “We're not huge fans of circuit brain,” says Narayanan. “I think that metaphor is so problematic. It just comes out of this idea that intelligence is all about computation.” He suggests images of AI chips or graphics processing units should be used to visually represent reported pieces about artificial intelligence.

Education Is All You Need

The adamant admonishment of the AI hype cycle comes from the authors’ belief that large language models will actually continue to have a significant influence on society and should be discussed with more accuracy. “It's hard to overstate the impact LLMs might have in the next few decades,” says Kapoor. Even if an AI bubble does eventually pop, I agree that aspects of generative tools will be sticky enough to stay around in some form. And the proliferation of generative AI tools, which developers are currently pushing out to the public through smartphone apps and even formatting devices around it, just heightens the necessity for better education on what AI even is and its limitations.

The first step to understanding AI better is coming to terms with the vagueness of the term, which flattens an array of tools and areas of research, like natural language processing, into a tidy, marketable package. AI Snake Oil divides artificial intelligence into two subcategories: predictive AI, which uses data to assess future outcomes; and generative AI, which crafts probable answers to prompts based on past data.

It’s worth it for anyone who encounters AI tools, willingly or not, to spend at least a little time trying to better grasp key concepts, like machine learning and neural networks, to further demystify the technology and inoculate themselves from the bombardment of AI hype.

During my time covering AI for the past two years, I’ve learned that even if readers grasp a few of the limitations of generative tools, like inaccurate outputs or biased answers, many people are still hazy about all of its weaknesses. For example, in the upcoming season of AI Unlocked, my newsletter designed to help readers experiment with AI and understand it better, we included a whole lesson dedicated to examining whether ChatGPT can be trusted to dispense medical advice based on questions submitted by readers. (And whether it will keep your prompts about that weird toenail fungus private.)

A user may approach the AI’s outputs with more skepticism when they have a better understanding of where the model’s training data came from—often the depths of the internet or Reddit threads—and it may hamper their misplaced trust in the software.

Narayanan believes so strongly in the importance of quality education that he began teaching his children about the benefits and downsides of AI at a very young age. “I think it should start from elementary school,” he says. “As a parent, but also based on my understanding of the research, my approach to this is very tech-forward.”

Generative AI may now be able to write half-decent emails and help you communicate sometimes, but only well-informed humans have the power to correct breakdowns in understanding around this technology and craft a more accurate narrative moving forward.

[randomalistic]

hi :3 I saw your recent Wreck It Ralph vid (loved it) and seeing your avatar reminded me that I wanted to do something similar for my own vids? I am. Really bad at wording things my question is what size canvas did you use to draw them? And is there anything I need to keep in mind when implementing my own avatar into my YT vid like yt compressing the video or anything? I hope this makes sense like I said I suck at wording things 😭

Ooh okay!! Good question :] also I'm really happy you enjoyed!!

I am an amateur so idk how useful this info is but Here (dumps everything)

The emotes were made in Krita (any art software will work)

The canvas size was around 1000 x 1000 pixels

Starting out, doing a basic emotion sheet works well. Watching other PNGtuber videos helps you organize how many you may need and what emotions are used the most (expect to make 30 or more drawings, which is A LOT at first, and might take a couple weeks, but once you have them you can use them forever!)

Also start your video even if you're still working on emotes! It helps to sorta do everything at once :)

This grid doesn't cover everything I used (it was a very messy process) but it might be useful so here :)

I think its also a good idea to make a "base" and then mess with expressions from there. This one had a lot of usability. (and also a lot of layers)

Later on I found it most useful to listen to the stuff I recorded, and then make a drawing for that moment specifically. You can then apply that "emotion" to other places where it fits

this is probably my favorite example because i based the expression off King Candy LOL. USING REFERENCES IS FUN !!!!!!!!! And I ended up using this one a lot !

Also expect a lot of rejected designs and struggling w drawing expressions because it's Hard. Developing the style you want takes a lot of time!! (I scrapped these 3 i made early on)

//

Exporting and YouTube processing was a little tricky but here’s what worked for me:

- I used Davinci Resolve to export the project. My video was made at 24fps, the same framerate as my footage. (The Movie) Earlier on, I kept noticing my audio was too loud and weird glitchy visual artifacts kept showing up. After trial and error I found these settings worked the best:

Main takeaway, i legit dont understand how any of this works but:

ITU-R BS.1770-4 normalization for audio is Good

Lower your finished audio track to -13.5dB. It will sound quiet, but YouTube likes this and will make it a normal volume (?? I THINK?? Do your own testing, my final video was kind of quiet but nobody commented on it so its fine as long as it's consistent)

YOUTUBE EQUALIZES YOUR AUDIO IT DOESNT MATTER HOW LOUD IT IS IT WILL BE OK

H.265 encoding with .mov format (aka QuickTime) is Good

And that's probably enough infodumping for now. Its okay to feel overwhelmed and unsure where to start but making a video is SO FUN and i encourage it more than anything :))) Take your time and learn at your own pace! There are lots of great tutorials online.

I WOULD BE HAPPY TO ANSWER ANY EXISTING QUESTIONS

[itsbubbleteataro]

Gun Powder and Sparks pt 2

It was maybe three months after Boothill had payed you a visit, and you had given up hope on ever seeing a dime from him. Your shop lay closed today as you wanted to work on a special project of yours. Today you were testing out to see if the circuits all worked they way you needed them too.

Your goggles over your eyes held firm as you stared to carefully insert the crystal he had dropped off when the door to the shop flew open. With a groan you set the gem down, your concentration shattered. Sliding back in your chair you took off your goggles, facing the intruder with a rather unamused look on your face.

In the doorway stood Boothill, his grin as sharp and pointy as usual. You crossed your arms, rather unamused by his whole entrance.

"Shop's closed" You practically sneered. "You better have my payment." You stuck out one hand.

Boothill's boots clicked against the shop floor as he placed credits in your hand. "I got more if yer willing to open up shop for me" He tilted his head and took off his hat, tossing it on your table.

"You just now payed me for the work I did three months ago, why in the name of the aeons would I work with you again?" You raised a brow.

"Well cuz you're the only person I'll go to repairs, annnd, I actually have credit this time" He placed one hand on his hip. "I wanna know more about ya too, ain't see many of ya around."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You got up from your seat, defensive.

"Well y/n it means I ain't see many others from a farming planet like mine. Now are ya gonna do the repairs or not? I'm overheating here" He complained.

"Over heating? Like your fan's are starting to break down or.. oh never mind" You shook your head and sighed as your curiosity got the better of you. You heard Boothill plop down on your chair with a satisficed grunt as you cleared off space on your desk, unaware that Boothill had his eyes on what you were doing with the energy crystal he had given you.

"okay" You pulled open a few drawers. "Now where are your fans located? Do you have multiple in several parts or are they all located in one because that could be the issu-" Boothill cut you off, the sound of a compartment hissing and opening grabbing your attention. You turned around to see him fanning himself with his hat, the panels of his chest wide open. You got closer, gently poking and prodding and getting a closer look.

You touched one of the fans, your brow furrowing. "Holy hell fires Boothill, I have questions. How in the world are you not short circting from all this heat, second how in the ever loving hell did your fans get so dirty?! I have to take them out to clean them." You walked over to a small sliver tube, pressing on the top before a holographic pc display came up.

As you typed away Boothill answered your questions. "Well, to be frank I ain't got a fudgin clue. I guess it just has been a while since I've had my hard-er, software?" he guessed.

"hardware" you corrected

"hardware looked at" Boothill shrugged. You sighed as you ordred a few parts and pressed the button again, the hologram dissapearing.

"Alright how long will you be in town for?"

"How ever long it takes to get fixed back up" Replied Boothill.

"Noted, works out in my favor." You replied, going through a drawer. Once again you pulled on your fingerless glove with the small pockets. You walked up, stuck your face as close as you could get, before nodding and mumbling to yourself and going back to your drawer. You missed the way the cowboy looked at your face, then looked away again.

You came back, glove full of tools and a head worn light and magnifying glass. You got on your knees, head up close to his open chest panels. Boothill swore he got hotter as you stared to work.

"How do ya even stand this here heat?" Boothill asked, looking away but curious.

"Simple really, ain't nothing compared to what it was like back home on Enbar." You explained, taking out one of his fans and cleaning it gently. He looked down at you again, a bit of red dusting his cheeks, something the both of you chalked up to the heat of having one of his fans removed, not the compromising position you were currently in.

You cleaned his fans, put him back together and shut his chest panels. You cleared your throat.

"Stay for a week, I got parts commin in for ya cowboy."

"Now the fork would you order parts for me?" He asked confused, "And why ain't you callin me by my name?"

"Well you ain't a dead cowboy, sure your mostly metal, but your still kicken'" You explained. "And extra fans so ya ain't gotta' come back to me overheatin' again."

Boothill tipped his hat. "Tell me more about Enbar when I'm back?" He dropped payment on your work table. You nodded and shooed the cyborg cowboy out of your workshop.

The week when he came back, you added some fans to his back. He was laying on your work table, something you were surprised that you both could hold his weight and that you even had enough space for him as he was quite the tall man.

His back panels were open and you had brought in a pillow for his head. He laid still so you could work without issue.

"say, y/n" Started Boothill. "Tell me more about Enbar?"

You sighed and obliged him as you worked. "Enbar, long gone by now. Stellaron disaster. Hot planet, heard it been compared to hell its self before. Hot, dry, mostly farm and cattle land. Home to few tradesmen out of nessicity." You stared. "Land rollin as far as the eye could see" You looked at Boothill, making sure he was okay, only to see a faraway look in his eyes, you knew his home was something similar. You turned back to your work.

"Ma was a ranch hand, pa was a tradesmen. One day Ma wanted to leave, got on this giant train with people who called themselves nameless. Pa and I stayed behind, took after the trade with my Pa"

You stopped talking, not wanting to say anymore as Boothill nodded his head. The two of you worked in silence, you just focused, and him going over how similar your planets were, yet also how different they were. It was something to him, seemed like looking into a mirror, just at a different angle. The upbringing was similar, yet so very different.

A few hours later, you woke the cowboy up who had managed to drift off to sleep while you were working to tell him repairs and fan installation was done.

"Thanks again y/n" He tossed payment on the table and tipped his hat. "Till next time yeah?"

"Sure space cowboy"

He smirked his dangerous toothy grin and waved walking out the door.

[lightdancingwords]

Crossroads of the Heart - Part Fifteen of ?

Pairings: CJ Braxton x Y/N Female reader

Series Summary: Y/N is a psychology major assigned to shadow CJ at The Stand, unaware he's the one who basically saved her life four years before. CJ is unaware that she's the one who left a notable impact on him over the phone four years ago. As they navigate the work at The Stand, they develop a spark that demands revelation and connection.

Word Count: 5,949

Tags/Warnings: Some fluff, angst (I guess?)

A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Evidently my muse won't shut up, so here we go! A new story in a new setting! I hope you all enjoy!

Dividers: credit to @saradika-graphics

Chapter Fifteen: Power

The Stand was still in shambles, but progress was finally being made.

The construction crew had managed to rewire the power correctly—without cutting another crucial cable—and most of the computers were back up and running. The volunteers were handling the transition as best they could, with some still working remotely while others adjusted to the lingering noise of drills and hammers echoing from the hallways.

And Miles, miraculously, had not actually combusted.

Mostly thanks to Gabby.

CJ watched from across the office as Gabby, ever the agent of chaos, continued to hover around Miles, insisting on keeping his stress levels in check—whether he liked it or not.

“You know,” Gabby mused, leaning against his desk, “you should really try deep breathing. Or yoga.”

Miles shot her a flat look, adjusting his glasses. “I will literally code you out of the system if you don’t leave me alone.”

Gabby gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “How dare you! After everything I’ve done for you?”

“You mean ruin my life?”

“Miles!” Gabby swatted his arm, and CJ actually had to bite back a laugh at the sheer suffering on Miles’ face.

“This is my nightmare,” Miles muttered under his breath.

CJ shook his head before turning his attention back to his actual job.

He stood by the main workstation, overseeing the remaining equipment shifts, while Priya checked off tasks from the operations list.

“All right,” she said, tapping her pen against the clipboard. “We’re finally down to just a few more adjustments. The doors are fully rewired, the badge system is almost ready to go live, and IT is still working on making sure the software is functioning correctly.”

“Meaning?” CJ asked.

“Meaning,” Priya said with a smirk, “you can maybe stop looking like you want to strangle the entire construction team.”

CJ exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. “No promises.”

Y/N approached then, stepping beside him, her presence immediately grounding him. “How are we looking?” she asked.

“Better than this morning,” CJ admitted. “Which, to be fair, is a low bar.”

Y/N chuckled, giving him a teasing nudge. “You love this place, admit it.”

CJ shot her a look. “I love you. This place? Questionable.”

Y/N grinned. “I’ll take it.”

Priya, watching their exchange with mild amusement, shook her head. “You two are disgustingly adorable.”

“Jealous?” Y/N teased.

“Not even a little,” Priya said dryly. “But it’s good to know that when the world inevitably collapses, CJ will still be flirting with you in the rubble.”

CJ smirked. “Damn right, I will.”

Before Y/N could respond, a loud beeping sound filled the office.

“What now?” Miles groaned, turning toward the sudden alarm coming from one of the security panels.

One of the contractors rushed over, looking mildly concerned. “Uh, okay, so… the new system is a little more sensitive than we thought.”

“Define ‘a little,’” CJ said, already dreading the answer.

“Well…” the guy hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “It may have just triggered a lockdown sequence.”

CJ stared. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Nothing major!” the contractor quickly added. “Just a test protocol. Doors will remain locked until IT clears the alert.”

Miles muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “kill me now.”

“How long will that take?” Priya asked, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“Uh…” The contractor checked his tablet. “About three hours?”

CJ groaned. “Of course it will.”

Gabby, ever the optimist, clapped her hands together. “Ooo, so we’re trapped! How fun!”

Miles turned to her, exasperated. “How are you like this?”

Gabby grinned. “Natural talent.”

CJ sighed, rubbing his temples. “This day will never end, will it?”

Y/N patted his arm. “But look on the bright side, babe. At least the power’s working now.”

CJ exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I hate how low our standards have gotten.”

Y/N laughed, leaning into him slightly. “But you love me anyway.”

CJ smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Damn right, I do.”

Priya sighed, flipping the last page of the schedule. “All right. Until the power company gets us out of here, we might as well get some actual work done.”

“Or,” Gabby said brightly, “we could play a game!”

Miles looked horrified. “Please no.”

As the Stand remained locked down with no escape, CJ closed his eyes and accepted his fate.

This was his life.

And, honestly?

He wouldn’t change it for anything.

By the time evening rolled around, the worst of the chaos had finally settled.

The security system was fully installed, the power was officially stable, and IT had lifted the temporary lockdown. The last of the construction crew had packed up their tools and left, and for the first time in days, The Stand actually felt like itself again—no loud drilling, no power surges, no construction workers accidentally cutting crucial wires.

CJ stood near the front, hands on his hips, scanning the office like a man assessing battle damage.

"Well," Priya said, stepping beside him, "miraculously, no one died."

"Yet," Miles muttered, still typing furiously at his station. "I'm still debating if I need to commit a murder."

Gabby patted his arm cheerfully. "Aw, babe, you love it here."

Miles didn't even look up. "I actively hate it here."

Gabby beamed. "Right, but in a loving way."

CJ shook his head, amused. "Honestly? This could have been worse."

Priya shot him a dry look. "CJ, we had a power outage, an accidental lockdown, and Miles nearly went into cardiac arrest."

"And yet," CJ countered, smirking, "this still isn't the worst day we've had."

Priya sighed, rubbing her temple. "You make a concerningly good point."

Y/N appeared at CJ’s side then, slipping her arm through his and leaning into him. "So, do I get to officially say ‘I told you so’?"

CJ glanced down at her, raising an eyebrow. "About what?"

Y/N grinned. "That things would work out."

CJ exhaled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. "Fine. You get to say it."

Y/N beamed. "Told you so."

CJ smirked, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "Yeah, yeah."

Across the room, Gabby clapped her hands together. "Okay, so now that this day is officially over, I vote that we celebrate."

"Celebrate?" Miles asked, finally looking up from his computer. "We barely survived."

"Exactly," Gabby said brightly. "Survival deserves celebration!"

Priya rolled her eyes but smirked. "What do you have in mind?"

"Food, obviously," Gabby said, already pulling out her phone. "And drinks. And a toast to not having to deal with construction ever again."

CJ hummed. "That last part feels optimistic."

Y/N grinned, nudging him. "Don’t jinx it."

As their shift wrapped up, the evening crew arrived, seamlessly taking over as the daytime team gathered their things. The Stand never really closed—there was always someone here, always calls coming in, always someone on the other end of the line who needed to hear that they weren’t alone.

CJ exhaled, relaxing for the first time in what felt like forever, before letting Y/N tug him toward the door.

Finally, things were looking up.

The night air was crisp as CJ and Y/N climbed the stairs to their apartment, the quiet hum of the city settling into a peaceful lull around them. The celebration had been exactly what they all needed—laughter, good food, and the kind of camaraderie that made even the worst days feel bearable.

CJ had spent most of the evening watching Y/N—how she lit up while teasing Gabby, how she made sure Miles didn’t actually combust, how she touched his knee under the table, grounding him without even realizing it.

And now, as they reached their door and stepped inside, something in him paused.

Before Y/N could move further into the room, CJ reached out and pulled her into him.

Y/N let out a soft sound of surprise as he wrapped his arms around her, burying his face into the curve of her neck, breathing her in. His grip was firm, steady—like he needed to feel her in his arms, like he needed the reassurance that she was here.

Y/N blinked, resting her hands against his back before tilting her head slightly. “CJ?” she murmured, her fingers sliding up into his hair.

He didn’t answer right away. He just held her, his heart beating steady and strong against hers.

Y/N smiled softly against his shoulder. “What’s gotten into you?”

CJ exhaled, pulling back just enough to look at her. His hands slid up to frame her face, his thumbs brushing along her cheekbones, his gaze intense and unwavering.

“Nothing,” he said, voice low, quiet. “Just… grateful.”

Y/N’s breath caught, her lips parting slightly. “For what?”

CJ’s eyes softened as he searched hers. “You.”

Y/N blinked, her chest tightening. "CJ…"

“I mean it,” he murmured, his hands trailing down to her waist. “I don’t say it enough. You make everything better. Even the worst days. Especially the worst days.”

Y/N swallowed, overwhelmed by the weight of his words. "You do that for me too."

CJ smiled faintly, dipping his head to press his lips so gently against hers—slow and unhurried, as if trying to memorize her.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers. “Just wanted to remind you.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, her fingers curling around the front of his shirt. “I really like when you get sentimental.”

CJ smirked, brushing his nose against hers. “Don’t get used to it.”

Y/N grinned, looping her arms around his neck. “Too late.”

CJ chuckled, shaking his head before kissing her again, longer this time—deep and slow, the kind of kiss that anchored them, that reminded them both exactly how much they had found in each other.

And in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Just them.

Together.

The morning was calm, but CJ knew better than to trust the quiet.

He was at his desk, half-focused on emails and half-sipping the coffee Y/N had made before leaving for her shift, when a firm knock sounded on his office door.

“Come in,” he called, already sensing something was off.

Priya stepped inside, closing the door behind her with more care than usual. Her expression was composed, but there was a weight in her eyes that immediately set CJ on edge.

He set his coffee down. “What’s wrong?”

Priya exhaled, setting her tablet on his desk. “I’ve been tracking the storm system off the coast.”

CJ frowned, already feeling where this was headed. “The one they were saying might hit?”

She nodded, swiping on the screen to show the latest updates. The map displayed swirling bands of red and orange, the storm’s projected path shifting slightly inland.

“They just upgraded it to a hurricane,” she said soberly. “And if it doesn’t weaken before landfall, it’s going to hit hard.”

CJ dragged a hand down his face. Of course.

Priya crossed her arms. “I wanted to talk to you about what that means for us. The Stand can’t exactly shut down, but I need to make sure our volunteers and staff are safe. If conditions get bad, we need a plan.”

CJ nodded, already shifting into problem-solving mode. “How long do we have?”

“Maybe a couple of days before it makes landfall,” Priya said. “But we’ll probably start seeing the outer bands sooner. High winds, flooding in low areas—enough to be a problem.”

CJ exhaled, glancing at the map again. “Alright. First things first—we make sure people don’t travel in dangerous conditions. Anyone scheduled to work in person should have the option to go remote before the storm actually hits.”

Priya nodded. “Agreed. But there’s another issue—what about people already here when it starts?”

CJ leaned back in his chair, considering. “We’ll need supplies on hand. If travel gets too dangerous, we can’t have staff or volunteers stuck here with nothing. Food, water, flashlights—whatever we’d need in case of power loss.”

Priya’s gaze softened slightly. “Already ahead of you. I started making a list before I came in here.”

CJ smirked. “Of course you did.”

Priya arched a brow. “One of us has to be organized.”

CJ chuckled, shaking his head before turning serious again. “How bad are we talking? Worst case?”

Priya exhaled slowly. “Worst case? Sustained winds over 90 mph. Power outages for days. Major flooding in low-lying areas. If it strengthens anymore before landfall…” She trailed off, shaking her head.

CJ let out a sharp breath. Damn it.

“I’ll get in touch with Y/N,” he said. “We should coordinate a plan for helping people outside of The Stand, too. If this hits like you think it will, people are gonna need resources. Not just for us, but for the community.”

Priya gave him a look—one that was part respect, part exasperation. “You always have to take on extra, don’t you?”

CJ smirked, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If we can do something to help, we should.”

Priya sighed, but there was warmth in it. “All right. I’ll start reaching out to our contacts for emergency support.”

CJ nodded, already mentally preparing for the long days ahead. “Good. And Priya?”

She looked back at him.

He held her gaze. “Thanks for staying on top of this.”

Priya’s lips twitched into a small, knowing smile. “Someone has to.”

With that, she turned and walked out, leaving CJ staring at the storm map, already planning for the worst.

The storm had arrived.

For most of the morning, it had been manageable—heavy rain, strong winds, but nothing that felt like a crisis. CJ, Y/N, Priya, Gabby, Miles, and a handful of other volunteers had made it into The Stand, prepared for a long shift of handling storm-related crisis calls. They had stocked up on supplies, rerouted calls for remote access where possible, and done everything right.

And yet—

CJ should’ve known something would go wrong.

The building shuddered as the power shut down completely. The overhead lights flickered, then died. The hum of computers ceased. And most importantly—the newly installed electronic security system?

Gone.

A beat of silence followed before—

“Oh, for the love of—”

CJ turned just in time to see Miles throw his hands in the air. "I knew this would happen! This is exactly why I said putting the entire security system on a single electrical grid was stupid!"

Gabby, who had been rifling through a supply box, abandoned it immediately and strode toward him, grinning like she was delighted by his meltdown. "Aw, come on, Miles, it’s kinda fun! We’re having a workplace adventure!"

Miles turned to her, scandalized. "Gabriella, we are trapped in a building during a hurricane with no backup power. Does that sound like fun to you?"

Gabby tapped her chin. "A little."

"Of course it does," Miles muttered, rubbing his temples. "This is my nightmare."

Priya exhaled, already reaching for her phone to check for updates. "The system should have had a backup," she said, frowning. "Which means—"

"—the backup also failed," CJ finished grimly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Fantastic."

"What now?" one of the volunteers asked, looking a little too nervous for CJ’s liking.

"Now," Priya said smoothly, "we stay calm and wait for the power to reboot."

"And if they can’t?"

Priya exhaled, tucking her phone into her pocket. "Then we make the best of it."

CJ looked over at Y/N, who was watching the storm outside through the large windows. The wind had picked up, hard, the trees bending, rain streaking against the glass.

She turned, catching his gaze. "Guess we’re stuck here, huh?"

CJ smirked. "Looks like it."

Y/N hummed, stepping closer, nudging his shoulder. "Think you can handle being locked in with all of us?"

CJ glanced over at Miles, still aggressively muttering to himself, and Gabby, who was now attempting to calm him down by offering to braid his hair.

He exhaled. "Debatable."

Y/N laughed softly, looping her arm through his. "Well, we might as well make the best of it."

CJ shook his head, amused, before leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her temple. "Yeah, yeah."

Gabby turned at that exact moment, eyes lighting up. "Oooooh, look at you two sneaking cute moments in the apocalypse!"

CJ groaned. "Gabby."

She beamed. "What? I love this for you!"

Miles groaned even louder. "I swear to God, if we’re stuck here overnight, I’m quitting."

CJ chuckled, shaking his head. "Relax, Miles. What’s the worst that could happen?"

Just then, a loud crash sounded from somewhere in the building.

A very familiar power tool-related crash.

CJ closed his eyes. "I take it back."

Priya sighed. "Of course you do."

And just like that, the night really began.

The Stand was officially on lockdown.

The rain lashed against the windows, the wind howled through the cracks in the building, and the backup generator that was supposed to keep the power on? Completely fried.

The worst part? IT couldn’t do anything about it.

The utility company had to restore power first, which meant they were at the mercy of the storm. Until then, the office was pitch dark, except for the dim glow of emergency exit lights and the occasional flash of lightning outside.

And because the brilliantly designed security system ran on electric locks, the doors were stuck.

Trapped.

CJ sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Of course this is how today ends."

Across the room, Miles was pacing, his grumbling increasing in volume with every step. "This is a perfect example of why everything should have a manual override. Who the hell—"

"Miles," Gabby interrupted sweetly, stepping in front of him, "breathe."

Miles scowled, adjusting his glasses. "I am breathing. I’m also raging."

"Multitasking, I love that for you," Gabby teased.

Miles muttered something unintelligible that definitely wasn’t appropriate for work.

Priya leaned against the desk, arms crossed, her expression cool and composed. "IT says we’re stuck until the utility company gets power back. No power, no system reset."

CJ exhaled, already bracing himself. "How long?"

Priya shrugged. "Could be a couple of hours. Could be all night."

Miles stopped pacing. "All night?"

"Relax," Y/N said, stepping beside CJ, slipping her hand into his. "It’s not the worst thing in the world."

CJ smirked, squeezing her hand. "Could be worse."

"Could it?" Miles snapped. "Because I’m struggling to see how."

"We could be stuck outside," Y/N pointed out. "Or on the road. Or in an elevator."

CJ snorted. "That last one might’ve broken you, Miles."

"I would not have survived," Miles admitted grimly.

"Exactly," Y/N said, squeezing CJ’s arm. "See? Perspective."

Miles groaned, throwing himself into a chair. "I hate all of you."

Gabby beamed, plopping onto the desk next to him. "Aww, you love us, tech boy."

"I actively do not," Miles muttered.

Gabby patted his shoulder. "Denial is the first step, babe."

Priya sighed, pulling out her phone—not that it was of much use with the Wi-Fi down. "We might as well make the best of it."

"I swear to God," Miles muttered.

"Ooooh," Gabby interrupted, her eyes lighting up. "Let’s play a game!"

Miles’ head snapped up. "Absolutely not."

"Gabby," Priya said tiredly. "No."

"Come on! We need to pass the time!" Gabby grinned, eyes flicking to CJ and Y/N. "I know you two will back me up!"

Y/N laughed, glancing at CJ. "I mean… she’s not wrong."

CJ smirked. "Not committing until I know what the game is."

Gabby beamed. "Truth or dare."

Miles threw his head back. "I hate this place."

"You love it here," Gabby chirped.

CJ shook his head, leaning against the desk as Y/N pressed into his side.

They were trapped in the dark, the storm still raged outside, and the power company had no ETA.

But Y/N was right.

They’d survived worse.

And for now?

They’d make the best of it.

The office was dim, the only light coming from the emergency exit signs and the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the room through the windows. Rain hammered against the glass, the wind howling as the storm raged on.

And in the middle of the chaos, they were playing Truth or Dare.

CJ wasn't sure how this had happened.

Well. He did.

It was Gabby’s fault.

She had somehow convinced the group—through sheer force of will—to go along with it, and now they were fully committed.

Miles, however, was suffering.

"I want it on record," he muttered, arms crossed, "that I was forced into this."

"Duly noted," Priya said dryly, taking a seat on one of the desks.

"Oh, hush," Gabby said, leaning against Miles’ chair. "This is fun."

"This is not fun," Miles shot back.

"It is fun," Y/N chimed in, grinning as she curled up next to CJ on the couch. "You just don’t like admitting when you’re enjoying yourself."

CJ smirked, resting his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers idly playing with a strand of Y/N’s hair. "She’s not wrong."

Miles scowled. "You’re supposed to be on my side, Braxton."

"Nope," CJ said easily. "You’re on your own, buddy."

Miles groaned. "I hate all of you."

"Right, right," Gabby said, delighted at his misery. "Now shut up, because it’s your turn, tech boy. Truth or dare?"

Miles sighed deeply, clearly rethinking every life choice that had led him to this moment. "Truth."

Gabby’s grin widened. "Ooooh, excellent choice. Let’s see…" She tapped her chin dramatically before her face lit up. "What was your actual first impression of me?"

Miles stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious."

Miles muttered something under his breath before sighing. "Fine. First impression? You were loud."

Gabby gasped, mock-offended. "Loud?!"

"And chaotic," Miles continued. "And a menace to my personal space."

Gabby grinned. "So basically, you fell in love at first sight?"

Miles groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. "This is my nightmare."

CJ actually laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, next." His gaze flicked to Y/N, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Your turn, sweetheart. Truth or dare?"

Y/N smirked, tilting her head. "Dare."

Gabby let out an excited gasp. "Oooooh, okay, okay! I dare you to…" She paused dramatically, her grin turning mischievous. "Sit in CJ’s lap for the rest of the game."

Y/N arched a brow. "That’s not even a real dare."

"Oh, it is," Gabby assured her. "I just wanted an excuse to make him blush."

CJ rolled his eyes but did not protest when Y/N immediately climbed into his lap, getting comfortable like it was second nature.

Because, well. It was.

"Happy now?" CJ said dryly, resting his hands on Y/N’s waist.

Gabby beamed. "Extremely."

"Whose turn is it?" Priya asked, shaking her head.

"CJ’s," Y/N said, smirking at him. "Truth or dare?"

CJ smirked, leaning back slightly. "Truth."

Y/N tapped her fingers against his chest. "If you had to get a tattoo right now, what would it be?"

CJ hummed, pretending to think. "Easy. A snowflake."

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her fingers curling against his shirt.

Gabby gasped dramatically. "Oh, my God, are you two in a romance novel?"

"Apparently," Priya muttered.

Y/N swallowed, smiling softly. "Good answer."

CJ smirked, tugging her a little closer. "I know."

Gabby sighed happily. "Ugh, I love this for you two."

Miles muttered, "I do not."

CJ shook his head, watching the group with amusement as the game continued.

They were trapped, in the dark, in the middle of a hurricane with no ETA on when the power would return.

But somehow, with Y/N in his lap, Gabby annoying Miles, and Priya quietly observing, CJ thought—

This might actually be one of the best nights they’ve had in a while.

The storm raged on outside, but inside The Stand, the game was in full swing. The group had fully embraced the ridiculousness of their situation, and CJ was actually enjoying himself—mostly because Y/N was still curled up in his lap, laughing against his shoulder at the latest truth Gabby had managed to drag out of Priya.

But the real highlight of the night was about to happen.

Y/N sat up slightly, turning her attention to Miles, who had been painfully avoiding eye contact with Gabby for the last few rounds. She smirked, her fingers lightly tapping against CJ’s chest as she tilted her head.

"Miles," she said, eyes glinting mischievously, "truth or dare?"

CJ immediately knew something was up.

Miles sighed, clearly wary. "Dare."

Gabby gasped dramatically, clapping her hands. "Oh, he’s feeling brave tonight!"

Y/N’s grin widened before she leaned forward slightly. "I dare you… to kiss Gabby."

CJ choked on air.

Gabby froze, eyes going wide. "Ohhh, I love this game."

Miles, on the other hand, looked like he was about to die. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," Y/N said sweetly, biting back a grin. "You can’t back out, Miles. Rules are rules."

CJ grinned, highly entertained. "She’s right, man. You accepted the dare."

Miles looked murderous. "I hate all of you."

Gabby, however, was beaming. "Oh, come on, tech boy," she teased. "Just a little kiss? What’s the worst that could happen?"

"A lot," Miles muttered, but the redness creeping up his entire neck gave him away.

"Tick-tock," Priya said smoothly, crossing her arms. "We’re waiting."

Miles groaned loudly, looking everywhere except at Gabby. "Fine."

Gabby perked up, her grin turning absolutely smug. "Ooooh, is this happening?"

"Shut up," Miles muttered before turning toward her, adjusting his glasses like he was mentally preparing himself for battle.

Gabby bounced slightly in place, looking highly amused. "Come on, tech boy, lay it on me—"

Before she could finish the sentence, Miles grabbed her by the face and kissed her.

CJ wasn’t sure what he expected—but it definitely wasn’t that.

Gabby made a startled sound before melting into it, her hands gripping his shirt as if she had been waiting for this moment her entire life.

The group erupted.

"Oh my God," Y/N gasped. "He actually—"

"I did not see that coming," Priya admitted.

CJ grinned, shaking his head. "Well, damn."

After a few very long seconds, Miles finally pulled away, his face redder than ever. "There. Happy now?"

Gabby blinked, stunned, before she smirked. "Oh, babe. You are never living this down."

Miles groaned, covering his face. "Kill me now."

"Nope," CJ said, highly entertained. "You brought this on yourself."

Y/N, absolutely delighted, clapped her hands. "Best dare of the night."

Gabby, still grinning, leaned toward Miles. "Wanna do that again just to make sure it counts?"

Miles visibly short-circuited. "Absolutely not."

"Your loss," Gabby teased, winking.

CJ exhaled, leaning back against the couch. "This was an excellent idea."

Y/N grinned, snuggling back into his lap. "I know."

The game continued, but there was no topping that dare.

And as CJ watched Miles try desperately to recover while Gabby whispered things in his ear just to watch him blush, he decided—

Storm or not, this was officially the best night they’d had in a long time.

The Stand was still wrapped in darkness, the storm continuing to rage outside, but inside, the energy of the group was lighter than it had been in days.

Miles was still recovering from his very public kiss with Gabby, sitting stiffly in his chair like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself, while Gabby was thrilled with her victory. Y/N was nestled comfortably in CJ’s lap, looking way too pleased with herself after her successful dare, and Priya was watching the chaos unfold with her usual amused but composed expression.

And then—

"Alright, CJ," Gabby declared, turning her attention to him. "Truth or dare?"

CJ smirked, adjusting his arms around Y/N. "Truth."

Gabby’s grin widened, mischief lighting up her eyes. "Oooooh, excellent choice, Mr. Braxton."

CJ arched a brow. "Why do I suddenly regret this?"

"Because you should." Gabby tapped her chin dramatically before looking directly at Y/N, then back at CJ. "Okay. Real talk, CJ. Are you ever going to propose to Y/N?"

The room went silent.

CJ froze.

Y/N stiffened in his lap, tilting her head up to look at him, her eyes wide with shock.

CJ tried to answer smoothly, tried to play it off, but his brain stuttered, and instead of something cool and collected, what came out was—

"Uh—yes?"

Gabby gasped, delighted. "Oh my God!"

Y/N blinked. "Wait, what?"

CJ felt his face heat, suddenly very aware that all eyes were on him. "I—" He exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair before looking down at Y/N, whose expression was an even mix of shock and curiosity. "I mean… yeah."

Y/N stared at him. "You were— You were thinking about that?"

CJ swallowed, realizing there was zero way out of this, so he just sighed and went with the truth. "I wasn’t planning to do it right now, but… yeah. I’ve been thinking about it."

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, her breath hitching, like she was fully processing his words. "CJ…"

Gabby clapped her hands together, practically vibrating. "This is the best game I’ve ever played."

Miles, who had finally recovered from his own public emotional turmoil, smirked. "Damn. Didn’t think I’d see Braxton actually stammer over something."

Priya, watching CJ struggle, simply sipped her tea, eyes twinkling with amusement. "This is so much better than the construction disaster."

CJ sighed, looking back at Y/N, suddenly needing to explain himself. "I wasn’t gonna say anything yet," he murmured, his voice softer now, just for her. "Because I wasn’t ready yet. Not because I don’t want to. But because when I do it? I want it to be right."

Y/N exhaled, and something shifted in her eyes—something softer, something warmer. "You really mean that?"

CJ tilted her chin up, brushing his thumb against her jaw. "Yeah. I do."

Y/N’s lips curved slightly, her eyes shining in the dim light. "Well. That’s… unexpected."

"Yeah?" CJ murmured, his heart pounding.

Y/N grinned. "But not unwanted."

CJ felt his chest tighten—not with anxiety, not with pressure, but with something so much better.

Y/N wanted forever with him.

And damn if that didn’t make everything else disappear.

Gabby sighed dramatically, clasping her hands together. "God, I love love."

Miles groaned. "I don’t."

Priya chuckled, setting her mug down. "Alright, let’s give our future married couple a break and keep this game going."

Y/N laughed, shaking her head, but when she turned back to CJ, there was something different in her gaze.

Something knowing.

Something that said this conversation wasn’t over.

CJ smirked, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead before murmuring just for her—

"Come to my office. Let’s talk."

Y/N’s grin widened, something curious flickering in her expression. "Okay."

And just like that, the game kept going, but CJ knew—

Something had definitely changed.

The door to CJ’s office clicked shut behind them, muffling the sounds of laughter and conversation from the break room. The dim glow from the emergency lights cast long shadows across the space, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

Y/N stood near the desk, her arms crossed loosely, her expression thoughtful—still trying to process what had just happened.

CJ leaned against the edge of his desk, watching her carefully. He wasn’t nervous, exactly, but there was a weight in his chest that hadn’t been there before Gabby had opened her mouth.

And now, there was no going back.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t mean for you to find out like that."

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head. "Yeah, I figured."

CJ exhaled, looking down for a moment before meeting her eyes again. "But I meant what I said."

Y/N’s lips parted slightly, her gaze searching his. "You’ve really been thinking about it? Marriage?”

CJ nodded, his voice steady. "Yeah. Not because of pressure, or because it’s ‘the next step,’ but because…" He exhaled. "Because I love you. Because you’re it for me, Y/N. And I don’t want anyone else. I don’t even want to think about a life that doesn’t have you in it."

Y/N swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the fabric of her sweater. "CJ…"

"I know it’s soon," he added quickly, sensing the hesitation in her voice. "I know we just moved in together. I know you have school, your practicum, all of that. I’m not asking for an answer right now. I just… I needed you to know how I feel. Because it’s been in my head for a while now, and after everything that’s happened—the storms, the chaos, even just us—I can’t pretend I don’t think about it."

Y/N let out a slow breath, rubbing her arms like she was trying to gather her thoughts. "I—" She hesitated, biting her lip. "I love you, CJ. You know that. But I’m just…taken aback by all of this. I wasn’t expecting to talk about marriage this soon. I just moved in with you. I still have school, my practicum, my entire career to think about—"

"I know," CJ interrupted softly. "And I don’t want to take any of that from you. I want you to finish school. I want you to do your practicum, to build the future you’ve worked so hard for. I just…" He paused, searching her expression. "Where do you see that future, Y/N?"

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"Where do you see yourself, years from now?" CJ asked, his voice careful, not pushing, just curious. "Because if I’m being honest… I used to have a plan. My whole life was The Stand. I thought that was all it was ever going to be. And then…" He exhaled, his lips twitching into something soft. "And then you walked in and everything changed."

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly, her fingers twitching at her sides. "CJ…"

"So I’m asking you," he continued, voice steady. "Where do you see yourself in the future?"

Y/N opened her mouth, then closed it.

And for the first time, she didn’t have an answer.

Because everything had changed since she walked through the doors of The Stand.

She had thought she knew what her future looked like—finishing school, finishing her practicum, taking a job somewhere as a psychologist or crisis counselor.

But then there was CJ.

Then there was this place, these people, this life she hadn’t expected but couldn’t imagine giving up.

Y/N exhaled sharply, closing her eyes for a second before meeting his gaze again. "I don’t know," she admitted, voice quiet but sure. "I don’t know where I see myself in five years, or ten years, or what my career will look like exactly. But…" She swallowed, taking a step closer to him. "I know one thing."

CJ tilted his head slightly, waiting. "What’s that?"

Y/N inhaled deeply, holding his gaze. "I don’t see a future without you in it."

CJ’s chest tightened, warmth spreading through him at her words.

He reached for her then, his hands finding her waist, pulling her closer until they were just a breath apart. "Then that’s enough for me," he murmured.

Y/N exhaled, resting her hands on his chest. "It is?"

"Yeah," CJ whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. "We’ve got time. I’m not in a rush. As long as I have you, the rest can come when it’s meant to."

Y/N let out a shaky laugh, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again. "I really, really love you, CJ Braxton."

CJ smirked, brushing his lips against hers. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

And when she kissed him, slow and deep, CJ knew—

It didn’t matter when.

She was his future.

And that was all he needed to know.

Tag List: @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Message me here! And check out the other story I’m writing!

[layover-linux-official]

Write One to Throw Away?

If you're in the software industry for long enough, you'll hear this advice eventually. There's an infamous Catch-22 to writing code:

You don't deeply understand the problem (or its solution space) until you've written a solution.

The first solution you write will have none of that hindsight to help you.

So it naturally shakes out that you have to write it at least one time before you can write it well, unless you're stricken with exceptional luck. And the minimum number of attempts you will need is two: one to throw away, and a second attempt to keep.

It's just math. It's just logic. Write one to throw away. It's got the world's easiest proof. You'd have to be some kind of idiot to argue with it!

Okay, hear me out...

As you work on bigger and older projects, you will continuously be confronted with a real-world reality: that requirements are an input that never stops changing. You can make the right tool for the job today, but the job will change tomorrow. Is your pride and joy still the right tool?

If you're like most developers, your first stage of grief will be denial. Surely, if we just anticipate all the futures that could possibly happen, we can write code that's ready to be extended in any possible direction later! We're basically wizards, after all - this feels like it should work.

So you try it. You briefly feel safe in the corrosive sandstorm of time. Your code feels future proof, right up until the future arrives with a demand you didn't anticipate, which is actually so much harder to write thanks to your premature abstractions. Welcome to the anger stage. The YAGNI acronym (you ain't gonna need it) finally registers in your brain for what it is - a bitter pill, hard-won but true.

But we're wizards! We bargain with our interpreters and parsers and borrow checkers. Surely we can make our software immortal with the right burnt offerings. We can use TDD! Oops, now our tests are their own giant maintenance burden locking us into inflexible implementation decisions. Static analysis and refactoring tooling! Huh, well that made life support easier, but couldn't fix fundamental problems of approach, architecture and design (many of which only came into existence when the requirements changed).

As the sun rises and sets on entire ISAs, the cold gloom eventually sets in. There is no such thing as immortal software. Even the software that appears immortal is usually a vortex of continuous human labor and editing. The Linux kernel is constantly dying by pieces and being reborn in equal or greater measure - it feels great to get a patch merged, but your name might not be in the git blame at all in 2 years time.

I want to talk about what happens when your head suddenly jumps up in astonished clarity and you finally accept and embrace that fact: holy shit, there is no immortal software!

Silicon is sand

... and we're in the mandala business, baby.

I advocate that you write every copy to be thrown away. Every single one. I'm not kidding.

Maybe it'll be good enough (read adequacy, not perfection) that you never end up needing to replace your code in practice. Maybe you'll replace it every couple years as your traffic scales. But the only sure thing in life is that your code will have an expiration date, and every choice you make in acknowledgement of that mortality will make your life better.

People are often hesitant to throw out working code because it represents years of accumulated knowledge in real-world use. You'd have to be a fool to waste that knowledge, right? Okay. Do your comments actually instruct the reader about these lessons? Does secondary documentation explain why decisions were made, not just what those decisions were? Are you linking to an issue tracker (that's still accessible to your team)? If you're not answering yes to these type of questions, you have no knowledge in your code. It is a black hole that consumed and irreparably transformed knowledge for ten years. It is one of the worst liabilities you could possibly have. Don't be proud of that ship! You'll have nowhere to go when it sinks, and you'll go down with it.

When you write code with the future rewriter - not merely maintainer - in mind, you'll find it doesn't need to be replaced as often. That sounds ironic, and it is, but it's also true. Your code will be educational enough for onboarding new people (who would rewrite what they don't understand anyways). It will document its own assumptions (so you can tell when you need a full rewrite, or just something partial that feels more like a modification). It will provide a more useful guiding light for component size than any "do one thing well" handwave. And when the day finally comes, when a rewrite is truly necessary, you'll have all the knowledge you need to do it. In the meantime, you've given yourself permission to shit out something sloppy that might never need replacing, but will teach you a lot about the problem domain.

This is independent of things like test suite methodology, but it does provide a useful seive for thinking about which tests you do and don't want. The right tests will improve your mobility! The wrong tests will set your feet in cement. "Does this make a rewrite easier?" is a very good, very concrete heuristic for telling the two apart.

Sorry for long-posting, btw. I used this space to work through some hazy ideas and sharpen them for myself, particularly because I'm looking at getting into language design and implementation in the near future. Maybe at some future date, I'll rewrite it shorter and clearer.

TL,DR:

Every LOC you write will probably eventually be disposed or replaced. Optimize for that, and achieve Zen.

[bromcommie]

CATCH UP TAG (BRING IT BACK NOW) (combo edition?)

tagged by @mandyyvibes @somanywords and @thankssaragorn thank you <333

Favorite color: still firmly in camp green. Specifically whatever the fuck it is nature puts in late spring leaves with all that sunlight backlighting them that makes me lose my marbles and just. sit there losing time for hours.

Last song: not a hundred percent sure? Because it was over on YouTube and I have history off but it was probably this guy, which! Sorry, yikes. (I mean that as in: this is deeply heartfelt, but also possibly not entirely translatable nor my brightest musical moment.)

or,

their lyrics are very: was this guy onto something big or was he just onto a realization about empathy most people've already figured out by 14 or was he just very, very high (or am I?) but god, I have an incredible (and incredibly nostalgic) soft spot for The War on Drugs. And also their instrumentals being somehow very melancholy and hopeful at the same time gets me every time. (There's a whole playlist involved, I'm afraid. Some of it blorbo-ified.)

Last book: The Most Secret Memory of Men by Mohamed Mbougar Sarr. I’m only about a quarter in so I’ll abstain from any decisive commentary, but so far I’m mostly enjoying it.

Last movie: The Sound of Music. My grandma had it on the TV last week and was singing along incredibly loudly. We had a blast.

Last TV show: Ugh…season 5 of You. And I hated it profoundly even as an ugh fine play in the background while I make dinner because there's nothing better on Netflix soap opera. It was just...really not very enjoyable to me even within its own established genre. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Immediately before that, season 3 of White Lotus, which I actually have a surprising number of opinions on, but they still for the most part all boil down to: ugh. I guess, fine? Which is not necessarily the sentiment you want to get from your polished, rich people doing wildly entertaining shit HBO drama.

Sweet/savory/spicy: still a sodium freak with a strong spicy streak. But also I’ve had this question a bunch of times in a row now and it’s not all that fun nor revealing (without getting personal), so let me propose either: what's your favorite season (and why)? and/or, do you like golden hour or “blue” hour better (and why)? for anyone else doing this after me. Only if you want, of course.

Last thing I googled, or duckduckgo’d—duckduckwent?—looked up: Franco Citti Accattone. Again. For recreational/R&D purposes, meaning I've made up a blorbo all for myself and assigned him a face and now I have to refer to it for the rest of my life, apparently.

Looking forward to: hanging out with my cousin from out of town this week! Yay! (Also hopefully getting a decent examiner and fucking passing my driver's test in May lol but like. knock on wood, spit on anything within reach, make the sign of the cross three times, or whatever you guys might have to offer. Please.)

Current obsessions: well :) I suppose besides the obvious: my Duolingo streaks that I've recently resuscitated. It's frankly a kind of meh (and aggressive, holy shit) language learning software, esp if you've got multiple languages at different lvls of development, so I'm always looking for better alternatives (please help, again?). But it's a nice compulsion to have as opposed to just refreshing other apps obssessively and if you're really meticulous with it you might even get to write down some word definitions.

Favourite crisp: gonna do the same thing as with the sweet/savoury/spicy thing, and answer—anything very, very salty! And also add: What’s your go-to comfort music/song/playlist? and/or, what’s your creative outlet (even if you don’t consider yourself a “creative” person?)

Last song you sang out loud: honestly no clue. It might be either Somebody Told Me by The Killers or I've Heard That Song Before by Harry James & Helen Forrest. I've been on a weird kick lately

The last book I opened: Nature Is A Human Right ed. Ellen Miles, in trying to find a quote and make someone see a very blatant point. And it didn't work, unfortunately :|

Earbuds, headphones, or nothing? Headphones when on my computer, earbuds on the street and nothing at home. But let me once again be too nosy and offer a replacement ask: Do you get more caught up listening to music by yourself, with friends, or in a crowd?

Last place I went to other than home: driving exam :|||| It went well, until it didn't.

A colour that looks good on you: eh blue or green or black. But who am I to say.

Last trailer you saw: Um, I think Together? Or possibly Bring Her Back? I'm a big trailer person, I watch a lot of them. This month was apparently the psychological horror special. Either way, that's more or less what I want most psychological horror trailers to show me. Yes, girl. Give me a lot of mundane everday acts painted sinister! And possibly a child acting weird! Yes, give me nothing in terms of plot!

I feel like this has been around x500 times but no pressure tagging @helly-ena @emjee @village-skeptic @snowangeldotmp3 @hardtobeasaintdotmp3 @gyokujyn @one-eyed-bossman. And please, anyone else that feels like doing it: do it! <3

[no-stupid-questions-official]

Does anyone have any sources actually showing that c.ai causes a high amount of environmental harm? I've seen people say that but so far I haven't seen any actual sources for it. The only one I've seen sources given for is chat gpt, which runs off of different software (and also generates images and even videos, not just text). And when I researched it myself, while the carbon footprint c.ai has isn't great, it doesn't seem to be as horrifically bad as people are saying it is? In fact, several major social medias & sites, including tiktok, tumblr, reddit, pinterest, discord, instagram, and spotify all have noticeably worse carbon footprints than it shows to, and several of them, including tumblr, tiktok, reddit, pinterest, and spotify are not running off of sustainable energy, while c.ai does. So I'm confused where this information is coming from. For reference, the main website I used to find out the carbon footprint of websites is websitecarbon.com, and it does explain on it how it tests these things. And when looking into it further I even found a study showing that generative ai actually generally requires less power than human writing and illustration does (https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC10867074/). Which just made me very surprised (because I thought it was at least proven that certain things like chat gpt were more harmful for the environment) but also even more confused where this is coming from, because most people online talking about the problems with ai bring up environmental harm, and I don't think that idea came from nowhere. So I want to know if there are sources on it, and maybe I'm just failing to find them?

Additional note to avoid the comments devolving into assumptions, this is not me being pro generative ai. While I don't want to spread misinformation about it and make it out to be worse than it is when it comes to things like environmental harm, I am against it being used publicly or for any sort of profit since it 'creates' what it does by taking from people's creative work without their permission, whether that be monetary by shit like premium subscriptions and ad revenue on ai sites, or through attention by posting ai generated content, text, image, or auditory based, whether you are clarifying it's ai generated or not.

Sorry this question is very long, since it's already something I've done research into, I wanted to make sure it was clear what I have already looked at so I don't get answers that are repeats of what I already looked through.

-

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Journey to a Water World: NASA’s Europa Clipper Is Ready to Launch

Find details about the launch sequences for the orbiter, which is targeting an Oct. 14 liftoff on its mission to search for ingredients of life at Jupiter’s moon Europa.

In less than 24 hours, NASA’s Europa Clipper spacecraft is slated to launch from the agency’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida aboard a Falcon Heavy rocket. Its sights are set on Jupiter’s ice-encased moon Europa, which the spacecraft will fly by 49 times, coming as close as 16 miles (25 kilometers) from the surface as it searches for ingredients of life.

Launch is set for 12:06 p.m. EDT on Monday, Oct. 14, with additional opportunities through Nov 6. Each opportunity is instantaneous, meaning there is only one exact time per day when launch can occur. Plans to launch Europa Clipper on Oct. 10 were delayed due to impacts of Hurricane Milton.

With its massive solar arrays extended, Europa Clipper could span a basketball court (100 feet, or 30.5 meters, tip to tip). In fact, it’s the largest spacecraft NASA has ever built for a planetary mission. The journey to Jupiter is a long one — 1.8 billion miles (2.9 billion kilometers) — and rather than taking a straight path there, Europa Clipper will loop around Mars and then Earth, gaining speed as it swings past.

The spacecraft will begin orbiting Jupiter in April 2030, and in 2031 it will start making those 49 science-focused flybys of Europa while looping around the gas giant. The orbit is designed to maximize the science Europa Clipper can conduct and minimize exposure to Jupiter’s notoriously intense radiation.

But, of course, before any of that can happen, the spacecraft has to leave Earth behind. The orbiter’s solar arrays are folded and stowed for launch. Testing is complete on the spacecraft’s various systems and its payload of nine science instruments and a gravity science investigation. Loaded with over 6,060 pounds (2,750 kilograms) of the propellant that will get Europa Clipper to Jupiter, the spacecraft has been encapsulated in the protective nose cone, or payload fairing, atop a SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket, which is poised for takeoff from historic Launch Complex 39A.

Launch Sequences

The Falcon Heavy has two stages and two side boosters. After the side boosters separate, the core stage will be expended into the Atlantic Ocean. Then the second stage of the rocket, which will help Europa Clipper escape Earth’s gravity, will fire its engine.

Once the rocket is out of Earth’s atmosphere, about 50 minutes after launch, the payload fairing will separate from its ride, split into two halves, and fall safely back to Earth, where it will be recovered and reused. The spacecraft will then separate from the upper stage about an hour after launch. Stable communication with the spacecraft is expected by about 19 minutes after separation from the rocket, but it could take somewhat longer.

About three hours after launch, Europa Clipper will deploy its pair of massive solar arrays, one at a time, and direct them at the Sun.

Mission controllers will then begin to reconfigure the spacecraft into its planned operating mode. The ensuing three months of initial checkout include a commissioning phase to confirm that all hardware and software is operating as expected.

While Europa Clipper is not a life-detection mission, it will tell us whether Europa is a promising place to pursue an answer to the fundamental question about our solar system and beyond: Are we alone?

Scientists suspect that the ingredients for life — water, chemistry, and energy — could exist at the moon Europa right now. Previous missions have found strong evidence of an ocean beneath the moon’s thick icy crust, potentially with twice as much liquid water as all of Earth’s oceans combined. Europa may be home to organic compounds, which are essential chemical building blocks for life. Europa Clipper will help scientists confirm whether organics are there, and also help them look for evidence of energy sources under the moon’s surface.

More About Europa Clipper

Europa Clipper’s three main science objectives are to determine the thickness of the moon’s icy shell and its interactions with the ocean below, to investigate its composition, and to characterize its geology. The mission’s detailed exploration of Europa will help scientists better understand the astrobiological potential for habitable worlds beyond our planet.

Managed by Caltech in Pasadena, California, NASA’s Jet Propulsion Laboratory leads the development of the Europa Clipper mission in partnership with the Johns Hopkins Applied Physics Laboratory (APL) for NASA’s Science Mission Directorate in Washington. APL designed the main spacecraft body in collaboration with JPL and NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center in Greenbelt, Maryland; NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama; and NASA’s Langley Research Center in Hampton, Virginia. The Planetary Missions Program Office at Marshall executes program management of the Europa Clipper mission.

NASA’s Launch Services Program, based at Kennedy, manages the launch service for the Europa Clipper spacecraft, which will launch on a SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket from Launch Complex 39A at Kennedy.

TOP IMAGE: Technicians encapsulated NASA’s Europa Clipper spacecraft inside payload fairings on Wednesday, Oct. 2, at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. The fairings will protect the spacecraft during launch as it begins its journey to explore Jupiter’s icy... Credit: NASA/Ben Smegelsky

CENTRE IMAGE: A SpaceX Falcon Heavy rocket with the Europa Clipper spacecraft aboard is seen at Launch Complex 39A as preparations continue for the mission, Sunday, Oct. 13, at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Credit: NASA

LOWER IMAGE: This artist’s concept depicts NASA’s Europa Clipper spacecraft in orbit at Jupiter as it passes over the gas giant’s icy moon Europa (lower right). Scheduled to arrive at Jupiter in April 2030, the mission will be the first to specifically target Europa for detailed science investigation. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

[codingquill]

Why is landing an Internship as a Computer Engineering/Computer Science Student so hard ?

Hey there, dear coders!

I apologize for my long absence—life caught me off guard with a lot of work and projects. Now that I finally have some time, I wanted to make a post to connect with you all. Thank you so much for 1,000 subscribers! I know maintaining a community requires consistent posting, and I feel like many of you might have forgotten about me. But I promise to make something big out of this. I've been thinking about starting a newsletter where you can receive weekly emails from me, discussing something I learned that week or anything that intrigued me and I felt like sharing.

Now, back to our question: Is it really hard to land an internship as a computer science student? The answer is yes, and as a computer engineering student myself, I can attest to this.

I've often wondered why it's so difficult. After some observations, I discovered that almost every computer science student's resume looks the same. The portfolios are nearly identical, lacking uniqueness. If you've studied at the same school as your friends, what would make a recruiter choose you over them?

This is where uniqueness and a sense of self come in. Your portfolio or website should reflect exactly who you are as a person and highlight your strengths.

The second crucial factor is dedication. I've had classmates who are extremely dedicated. They might not have any special skills, but they show immense interest in what they want to do. This drive is palpable, and recruiters can sense it too.

Sometimes, the resume isn't even the most important aspect. For big companies like Oracle, what you say and know during the interview and technical tests matters more. The resume is just the very first step.

So, what I've learned along the way can be summed up in two words: uniqueness and dedication.

Now how to Create the Perfect Resume to Land an Internship as a Student ?

1. Keep the design simple:

Avoid extra designs or too many colors. While uniqueness is important, recruiters generally do not favor overly designed resumes.

2. Structure your resume properly:

- The Resume Header

Contact Information:

Full name and title: List your first and last name. Use the title of the role you want instead of your current title.

Professional email address: Use a clean format like firstname.lastname@gmail.com.

Phone number: Choose the number you check most frequently. Record a professional voicemail greeting if yours is too casual.

Address: List only your city and state. Let recruiters know if you're willing to relocate if applicable.

LinkedIn or other professional social media: Include your LinkedIn profile if it's active and relevant. List any portfolios or computer engineering-related sites.

- The Resume Summary

A paragraph where you describe yourself by answering these questions:

What is your professional style? (Use one or two descriptive words such as patient, critical thinker, consensus builder, excellent designer.)

What is your greatest engineering strength?

What will you add to this particular team?

What is your process for building and maintaining computer networks?

What are you proudest of in your career?

Example:

Motivated computer engineering student with a strong foundation in software development and solid analytical and problem-solving skills. Looking for an opportunity to enhance my skills in a challenging professional environment.

- The Employment History Section

Be specific about how you contributed to each position and the impact you made.

List the job title, organization name, dates of employment, and 3–6 bullet points showcasing your achievements.

Start each bullet point with a strong action verb like collaborated or designed.

Highlight significant achievements rather than just listing responsibilities.

If you have no experience, include a projects section. This will act as your experience. Highlight how you worked on each project and your passion for it.

- The Skills Section

Combine hard and soft skills. The skills section is often the first place recruiters look to ensure you have the key abilities they're seeking. Your entire resume should support the skills you list here.

- The Education and Certifications Section

List your education, including any relevant courses or special achievements during your degree. Also, mention any certifications you have, whether from freeCodeCamp, Google, Coursera, etc.

By following these tips, you can create a resume that stands out and showcases your unique strengths and dedication. Good luck with your internship search, and remember to stay true to yourself!

[kichona-s]

You might have talked about this before, but what tool (device, programs, etc.) do you use for your art? I'm thinking about getting an iPad, but like...I've never really done digital, also never owned an apple product...I feel like an alien :D

i think i've answered something vaguely similar before, but fuck it new year new answer (entire thing below the cut because its long):

For most of my work now (since around Jun '24 onwards) I use the XP-Pen Artist Pro 16 with Clip Studio Paint Pro (perpetual license), total should set you back around USD560~ish. Key note is that this needs to be plugged into your laptop/pc, so if you have a shit computer this may not be the best option for you

Pros:

CSP is very full-featured, so pretty much anything you need it to do, it can do

Huge fuckin screen (16 inches) so you can have all your layer/brush menus out like a madman

Way more bang for your buck in terms of screen real estate/performance if you already have a good laptop/pc

Can work as a second monitor when you're not drawing

Cons:

Unportable

If you've never used any digital drawing tool ever, CSP is.. quite a bit to take in (dont let that scare you though, you can customize what menus you want to see etc to ur perference)

Needs to be plugged in otherwise its useless

No touch inputs (either use the controller they give u, a tourbox, or keyboard shortcuts)

If you dont need such a big screen though, theres definitely cheaper display tablets available (xp-pen artist pro 13 gen2, xp-pen artist line, huion kamvas line) -- thankfully we live in an era where Wacom's competitors are good and sometimes even better than it, so you can stretch your dollar a lot

For pre-Jun '24 I used a 2020 11inch iPad Pro with Procreate on it, which should set u back the cost of the ipad + USD13 + apple pencil -- note I still use this if I'm travelling (i drew the first mini norris on this while in japan!)

Pros:

Crazy portable - I used to bring my iPad to draw at malls with my friend (i also drew nsfw and a kid almost saw it so uh,, dont be like me)

Procreate is very stripped down in terms of drawing software so its really easy to learn the basics

You have all you need in 1 device (no need for another laptop/pc)

TOUCH INPUTS are SO useful when u first start when u need to rotate the canvas

Cons:

If you already have a laptop/pc this is gonna be more expensive

Procreate gets limiting over time - i used it from mid-2020 to early-2024 before i got sick and tired and swapped over

Apple pencil ergonomics is ass

Small screen unless u wanna splurge for the 12.9inch ipad

A fun third option if you wanna try testing the digital art waters without committing is a pen tablet (wacom intuos, xp pen deco, huion inspiroy), but those don't have screens so you need to look at ur laptop/monitor while drawing, and the hand-eye coordination may have a bit of a learning curve

Theres also free drawing softwares on both iOS and PC (autodesk sketchbook/ibis paint/krita) if you wanna fuck around on those first

But back to your main point - apple product software is generally a good experience (to me), and if you're mostly drawing on it you will learn the procreate interface more anyway so its not as important. The key between iPad VS Other Options is mostly portability & software (CSP on iPad is a subscription that I refuse to pay). And overall if you're not certain that you wanna stick to digital, get something that would be easy to sell off second handed in your country, so you dont lose your entire investment if you end up hating digital art lol

Good luck with your decision and if you have more questions, really feel free to ask -- i have a lot of fun doing product recommendation/comparison posts