#Supervised Fine-Tuning

[apexcovantage]

Bridging the AI-Human Gap: How Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback (RLHF) is Revolutionizing Smarter Machines

Imagine training a brilliant student who aces every exam but still struggles to navigate real-world conversations. This is the paradox of traditional artificial intelligence: models can process data at lightning speed, yet often fail to align with human intuition, ethics, or nuance. The solution? Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback (RLHF.)

What is RLHF? (And Why Should You Care?)

Reinforcement Learning from Human Feedback (RLHF) is a hybrid training method where AI models learn not just from raw data, but from human-guided feedback. Think of it like teaching a child: instead of memorizing textbooks, the child learns by trying, making mistakes, and adapting based on a teacher’s corrections. Here’s how it works in practice:

Initial Training: An AI model learns from a dataset (e.g., customer service logs).

Human Feedback Loop: Humans evaluate the model’s outputs, ranking responses as “helpful,” “irrelevant,” or “harmful.”

Iterative Refinement: The model adjusts its behavior to prioritize human-preferred outcomes.

Why it matters:

Reduces AI bias by incorporating ethical human judgment.

Creates systems that adapt to cultural, linguistic, and situational nuances.

Builds trust with end-users through relatable, context-aware interactions.

RLHF in Action: Real-World Wins 1. Smarter Chatbots That Actually Solve Problems Generic chatbots often frustrate users with scripted replies. RLHF changes this. For example, a healthcare company used RLHF to train a support bot using feedback from doctors and patients. The result? A 50% drop in escalations to human agents, as the bot learned to prioritize empathetic, medically accurate responses. 2. Content Moderation Without the Blind Spots Social platforms struggle to balance free speech and safety. RLHF-trained models can flag harmful content more accurately by learning from moderators’ nuanced decisions. One platform reduced false positives by 30% after integrating human feedback on context (e.g., distinguishing satire from hate speech). 3. Personalized Recommendations That Feel Human Streaming services using RLHF don’t just suggest content based on your watch history—they adapt to your mood.

The Hidden Challenges of RLHF (And How to Solve Them) While RLHF is powerful, it’s not plug-and-play. Common pitfalls include:

Feedback Bias: If human evaluators lack diversity, models inherit their blind spots.

Scalability: Collecting high-quality feedback at scale is resource-intensive.

Overfitting: Models may become too tailored to specific groups, losing global applicability.

The Fix? Partner with experts who specialize in RLHF infrastructure. Companies like Apex Data Sciences design custom feedback pipelines, source diverse human evaluators, and balance precision with scalability

Conclusion: Ready to Humanize Your AI?

RLHF isn’t just a technical upgrade it’s a philosophical shift. It acknowledges that the “perfect” AI isn’t the one with the highest accuracy score, but the one that resonates with the people it serves. If you’re building AI systems that need to understand as well as compute, explore how Apex Data Sciences’ RLHF services can help. Their end-to-end solutions ensure your models learn not just from data, but from the human experiences that data represents.

[indirezioneostinata]

Dal Pre-training all'Expert Iteration: Il Percorso verso la Riproduzione di OpenAI Five

Il Reinforcement Learning (RL) rappresenta un approccio distintivo nel panorama del machine learning, basato sull’interazione continua tra un agente e il suo ambiente. In RL, l’agente apprende attraverso un ciclo di azioni e ricompense, con l’obiettivo di massimizzare il guadagno cumulativo a lungo termine. Questa strategia lo differenzia dagli approcci tradizionali come l’apprendimento…

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

55 / 1.2k / first time meeting Ghost for medic reader

...

"Don't expect to be treated special," the skull-faced man tells you. " if someone needs patching, which is unlikely, don’t expect them to be a grateful patient." Ghost leads you through the halls, your medical bag slung over his shoulder. "And we don't care for small talk. Nor do we care how you do your job. Just do it. We don't care if you like us or not. Actually, I prefer you don't get any funny ideas about befriending me."

Is that all. Twenty minutes ago you arrived and already the Simon Riley so graciously rolls out the welcome wagon. You take it by the way he hefts your bag down that he's finished with his talk and you can get to work.

"That's perfectly fine," you tell him. Mildly, as if he didn't just tell you to mind your own fucking business in so many words. "Thank you. If you'll excuse me."

"I won't," he says. "The Captain tasked me with keeping an eye on you. Can't really do that if you walk away."

You halt and turn to peer at him. "I'm sorry?"

He doesn't even look at you. Instead, he begins casually cleaning an already shining knife. "Price told me to make sure you get nice and settled in. So I'm keeping watch."

Your jaw flexes. "Tell Captain Price I don't need a babysitter. You're dismissed."

He pauses The stare he gives you from behind that mask is halting. "You should really learn to be a bit more polite to your superiors. I don't take orders from you. If Price says you need supervision, I'm supervising."

"You're not my superior," you tell him. "And I'm not your recruit. I'm a contractor."

"Let me make one thing clear, medic," he growls. "Everyone on this base follows a chain of command, and that includes you. You might have a contract, you might not be a recruit, but on this team, you answer to the boss. And right now, he said I'm keeping an eye on you. So if you want to have words with me..."

He takes a step closer, leaning down to your eye level.

"I'd suggest you swallow them."

Even without the height difference, his gaze is like a physical weight. You stare back for a long moment. There's a challenge in those dark eyes, daring you to push him. He's looking for an excuse to put you in your place, and you know it.

You refuse to take the bait. Without saying a word, You turn your back and walk away, making your way toward the medical offices. He follows you, humming a tune and flipping the knife tip-first between his fingers.

If he wants to babysit, fine. It won't stop you from doing your goddamn job.

Days later, you're hard at work. It's near midnight. You've been on your feet for around 30 hours.

The door to the medical office slides open and Ghost walks in. It's clear from one look at him that he hadn't gotten any sleep either. He's been on a series of missions back to back for two days straight. With a deep sigh, he leans against the counter, arms folded over his chest.

"You're still awake?" he asks.

You glance at him. "You look like hell."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." His eyes sweep over you. He takes note of the dark circles under your eyes, the exhaustion clear on your face. It's obvious that you're just as tired as he is. "You've been at this too long. How long since you took a break?"

You look back down at your work. "Doesn't matter. There's still work to do."

He pushes himself off the counter and walks over to you. His footsteps are heavy on the floor. "This how you take care of yourself? Work until you pass out?"

"What's it to you? I do my job."

"You work yourself to exhaustion, you won't be able to do jack shit." He's now standing directly behind you. He looks down to see you're doing inventory of the medical supplies. He glances at how fast your fingers move, how you never stop. It's obvious that you're pushing yourself.

"I know what I'm doing."

"You're going to goddamn kill someone."

As you scan the list, you notice the tremors in your hands. Damn it.

"You have no room to talk." You turn around to stare him down so you don't have to keep seeing your own hands shake. Up close, he looks even worse. Christ, is that blood?

"Sit down," you command. "You're bleeding. You need a checkover."

He gives a deep sigh, tired. "S'not necessary."

He's downplaying the situation. Typical. But he does as he's told, sitting down on the exam table in front of you. There's no use trying to hide injuries from a medic.

You lift up the underside of his t-shirt to find the long cut stretching across his chest underneath. It was bandaged--though not well, and it's bleeding through. It isn't a life-threatening situation, but it'll need stitches, and it's definitely not the nothing he made it out to be.

"Hold this," you tell him, putting his shirt hem in his hand. "Keep still."

He winces. Despite his best efforts to hide the pain and discomfort, it's clear that it's more than a minor injury. He takes the shirt as instructed, holding it out of the way. He watches you in silence as you work, studying your focused expression and the methodical way you tend to his wound. You're not gentle by any means. But you're efficient. Even if it is annoying to have you fussing over him.

Though your work is hampered by your shaking hands and you're obviously frustrated about it. Your movements aren't as deft as they should be--not as quick as your eyes.

"Stay still," you snap.

"I'm not moving," he responds through gritted teeth.

Despite his best efforts to stay stoic, he frowns under his mask. Being patched up, sitting still and letting himself be tended to isn't something he's used to. Still, you're clearly in worse shape than he is. Somehow. His eyes dart from the sutures in his chest to your face.

You finish as quickly as you can. You know you've caused him unnecessary pain with this repair. But he shouldn't have gotten himself hurt in the first place. The cure should be more bitter than the cut, as far as you're concerned.

When you've snipped away the excess thread, you take a deep, slow breath, and it feels like whatever energy you had left escapes with it. You touch the stitches stretching across his pectoral muscle lightly. It jumps with the sudden tenderness. Then you apply a new bandage.

"There," you mutter. "Don't let it happen again."

"I don't plan on it." He scrutinizes your face again. Exhaustion and fatigue are etched into every feature. You're running on fumes. "You'd better go rest."

"Whatever happened to not caring about how I do my job?"

"Medic," he warns.

"I'm going," you mutter. "Don't you report this to Price again. I'm going."

"That's what I thought." He smooths his shirt down. He hides a smirk and rubs the aching stitches. "Don't let it happen again."

...

more Ghost / masterlist tag

[doujindungeon]

okay i know this is not a kink but hear me out..... SIR lewis hamilton with spanking. preferably in somewhere semi public like his driver's room. bonus if reader is one of the mechanics or his teammate but if not then wag!reader is fine too 😁😁 thanks pookie

SPANKING IS A CORNERSTONE FOUNDATION TO LEWDS ANON I GOT YOU THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!! 🍑💥🖐️ ANYWAY STREAM PIPE BY CHRISTINA AGUILERA FEAT. XNDA

"Huh. With what you're wearing underneath, no wonder your work on the car's been rubbish today--you've got that pretty little head of yours up in the clouds."

Calm and even rather amused, Lewis continued to recline further back against the couch in his driver's room, his posture at ease while he basked in the sight of your current position.

"...or is down in the gutter more accurate?"

The sound of flesh slapping against flash soon rang sharply in the air.

Your teeth once again dug into your bottom lip as you resisted letting out a moan upon bearing yet another smack on your ass by his disciplinary hand. While the motorhomes for the drivers were ungodly expensive, this didn't translate to the construction of soundproof walls.

And neither the two of you were quite ready to let the rest of Ferrari know that both you and Lewis were fucking each other.

Though, what was made clear today to all was that the tune-ups made under your supervision to his car were absolutely not to his liking.

Which is why you were here, sprawled over his lap in nothing but the top of your uniform and your panties, your ass stinging red and hot after being subjected to his continued display of collected yet merciless reprimanding.

His fingers reached for the flimsy, delicate fabric of your underwear, his fingertips rubbing over the material in observation, all while the scent of your slickening cunt was making his mouth water.

Play would have to come later though.

A yelp broke through your lips when you felt Lewis grab a generous handful of your ass, his voice still soft yet sounding tighter than before as he tsked,

"I asked you a question, lovely."

With a shudder, you turned your head back to face him, your eyes glassy with pleasured pain as you declared,

"The latter is accurate--"

His squeeze turned into another spank over your ass, prompting you to squeal out,

"The latter is accurate, sir!"

It was at that moment, at the sweet tremble of your voice, that the calm gave way to the storm.

Immediately, Lewis reached for your jaw to pull you into a searing kiss while his hand began to tear at the front of his race suit. His words hissed and muffled into your mouth, he declared,

"Then don't expect to be leaving anytime soon until you're fully refocused on your job, understand?"

You would certainly come to understand this as loudly and clearly as possible.

[maiyz]

a pearl

yuji x reader | masterlist

01: nice binder goob

you arrived at jujutsu tech in early february, it gives you about 4 months to plan an assassination of sukunas vessel, a first year student named yuuji itadori.

your tactical boots specialized in traction and protection crunch the winter leaves below you. its just about 6am, you woke up early today.

you plan out the killing in your head. come to think about it 4 months is a lot isnt it? you typically like making it quick and simple, although you have little experience in actual killing people.

perhaps bidding your time would be the best option. jujutsu tech is filled with many powerful individuals who would most likely kill her if they knew her intentions. your biggest fear is the 10 shadows user, he appears to have the closest relationship to sukunas vessel.

at around 7am she arrived outside the classroom, where gojo sensei would be waiting to introduce her to the measly 3 first year students inside.

“everybody!” gojo shouts at a volume way too loud for 7 in the morning. “we have a new student! give her a round of applause!”

sukunas vessel and kugisaki clap lamely while fushiguro makes no attempt to indulge in gojos acts.

you enter the classroom and bow slightly before walking to the single empty desk. “thats yn zenin! which puts the first year class at 4 students! hooray!” gojo shouts.

you have no intention on talking to the other students, or anyone for that matter. while gojo talks about paired missions all you can do is fight the urge to fall asleep, maybe waking up early was a bad idea.

“ok! we have an even number of students sooo…! were gonna do paired missions! nobara and megumiii in one pair and ill supervise yuji and yn!”

is gojo ever quiet.

oh, me and sukunas vessel?

thats good. i could probably kill him easily. what about the veil though? i surely wouldnt be let out if gojo is supervising.

well its still good to figure out some information about sukunas vessel.

you enter the car driven by gojo, the mission you were assigned to is a grade 2 curse in an abandoned hospital about 45 minutes away. you stare out the window on to the dense forest near the road.

the car stops before gojo tells you and sukunas vessel to get out of the car. you stretch slightly when getting out due to sitting for too long before starting to walk to the mission site.

gojo lowers his veil trapping you and sukunas vessel, hopefully he doesnt like. kill you or smth.

you walk around looking for a 2nd grade curse, checking the patients rooms, waiting room, the roof. although you just cant put your finger on where it is.

while youre looking, sukunas vessel keeps blabbering on and on, to the point where youre starting to tune him out.

he taps your shoulder which throws you off guard, causing you to step back away from him quickly.

“just trying to ask a question” sukunas vessel says.

i thought he was gonna kill me. he couldve just now.

“what.”

“why did you become of a sorcerer?”

theres a brief silence before you say. “its none of your business”

“thats fine, you remind me of fushiguro in a way! youre both very grumpy you know?”

after about a couple minutes of fighting with the curse you end up surviving the mission relatively unharmed, sukunas vessel took most of your heavy hits for you.

you and sukunas vessel end up both going to ms leiri for her expertise in reverse cursed technique. not that you needed it, you just tagged along.

you tagged along because you had to. not because you wanted to.

you, the other 2 firsts years, and sukunas vessel get treated to. revolver sushi. or something similar to that. you expected this is be a gun shop or maybe the name of a brand, not a type of restaurant.

“what you and kugisaki never been to a revolving sushi place? you have to go its so cool! its for the experience!” (ita)

“they dont have those where i grew up. revolving sushi is cheap isnt it? lets go somewhere expensive since gojo sensei is paying” (kugi)

“but i want it! its not about how expensive it is, its about the experience!” (ita)

“you say that until you get food poisoning.” (kugi)

“you agree with me, right zenin!??” (ita)

you shake your head in disagreement.

“see i told you! zenin agreed, were gonna get steak!” (kugi)

“when did zenin agree to get steak” (fushi)

“shut your mouth.” (kugi)

extra!

lol im so stupid instead of zenin i use ln frigg

can u tell dialogue is my least fav thing ever. ngl everything non smau is.mmmlol

my friend said i was the type to read ao3 and bl. i ask her hiw did she know what that meant and she was like. i have my sources. ok freak

i played volleyball and i hit it and it bounce onto my face or smth ow

my chromebook got power washed wuess by who. me. i did on accident my bad 💔✌️

took soso long for this I SPENT LJKE 2 weeks. next chapter in 6 weeks stay stuned

ok gn.

taglist! (0/50)

[flwrkid14]

Hi! Can we get some more Jason Todd: Dad Mode Activated? 🥺👉👈 maybe about how Jason helps Tim with his crushes or maybe like how to cope with some mental health struggles/ Tim comparing how different Jason lectures him to Bruce’s lectures?

Hi!! Thank you so much for the ask! <3 These are such great concepts, and I’d have so much fun exploring them! While I’m not sure I’ll make a full post for this, I’d love to share my thoughts on how these ideas could play out!

For Jason helping Tim with crushes, I feel like he’d totally be that dad—the one who embarrasses you in front of your crush on purpose. Tim, of course, doesn’t tell Jason about his crushes for this exact reason, but Jason is way too observant not to figure it out anyway. Imagine them out together (because Jason has once again dragged Tim away from his work to make him take a break), and Jason spots Tim’s current crush walking down the street. He’d nudge Tim with that smug, teasing grin of his, going, “Timmy! Look, Timbo! It’s Bernard! Isn’t he a good friend of yours? What’s he doing out here? Let’s go say hi!” And then, before Tim can protest, Jason’s already dragging him over, while Tim is blushing furiously and muttering curses under his breath. Jason’s embarrassing as hell, but... it’s also endearing. And for Tim, who didn’t grow up with that kind of playful, teasing love, it felt oddly nice... even if his dad was now enthusiastically talking about his cuddling habits when sleeping (screw him for being touch starved) to a very confused Bernard.

As for coping with mental health, Jason would be such a huge advocate. Realizing that Tim is his kid now—and that he’s essentially a dad—would really push Jason to work on his own mental health. He’d know he can’t preach good habits to Tim if he’s not setting a good example himself (because independent Tim Drake—who grew up without much supervision—definitely needs someone to lead by example. He needs proof that taking advice from someone else is worth it, especially when his own methods have always worked just fine for him).

So Jason starts his own mental health journey, taking active steps to improve himself, and Tim notices. And it hits him hard, because none of his parental figures before—Bruce or Jack—ever did that. They never cared about their own well-being for his sake, to be better parents to him. Seeing Jason make that effort makes Tim feel so incredibly loved and valued.

Jason wouldn’t just lecture Tim or bark orders at him; he’d actively help him build better habits. He’d set up mandatory family dinners once a week to encourage better eating patterns and help Tim develop routines that supported a healthier sleep schedule, tailored to his needs, once they realized the standard eight hours a night just wasn’t realistic for him.

It’s these little changes that make Tim realize just how different Jason is from Bruce.

Jason doesn’t demand things from Tim that he doesn’t practice himself. He wouldn’t tell Tim to stop working late if he wasn’t also putting his own work aside and calling it a night. If he’s telling Tim to eat better, he’s leading by example—packing ready-to-go meals for both of them when there’s no time to cook. Jason shows Tim why these changes are worth it, through actions and positive outcomes.

Bruce, on the other hand, never did that. Whatever Bruce told Tim to do was just an expectation. He’d demand Tim do better or lecture him without ever showing how or why it mattered. If Bruce criticized Tim’s performance in the field but was himself guilty of being distracted—like running off mid-patrol for a rendezvous with catwoman—Tim just nodded along and tuned him out. Bruce’s hypocrisy made it impossible for Tim to take him seriously.

But Jason? Jason shows Tim why he should listen, fixing his own behavior and performance first before ever asking the same of Tim. And that difference speaks volumes. For Tim, who’s used to parental figures endless demands with no understanding behind them, Jason’s approach feels like a breath of fresh air—and the kind of support he never knew he needed.

hopefully that lived up to your expectations! <3

[thornyfluff]

Senator Soundwave and cassettes in childcare (or lack thereof) hell.

I'm trying something new... the comic strip will be posted tomorrow--- Stay tuned!

-----------------------------------------‐--‐------------------------------------------------------

Title: Soundwave: Signals of a Working Dad

( “Fine. I’ll Just Be Evil Then.”)

Cybertron’s towers shimmered in the golden light of Iacon’s energy grid, but Soundwave’s optic sensors twitched with mounting stress. His console pinged with diplomatic memos, classified updates, and worst of all—a rejection from yet another daycare center.

"RE: Application for Cassette Unit Supervision

We regret to inform you that your children are classified under 'military-grade espionage tools' and therefore ineligible for SparkSprouts Learning Core."

Soundwave’s vocalizer buzzed in frustration. He was a Senator, a pillar of Cybertronian law and order, yet no institution would take in his small herd of sentient cassette children—each of whom had enough destructive capability to warrant their own defense subcommittee.

Ravage had eaten through a file clerk’s desk last week. Laserbeak had imprinted on a data archivist and now refused to stop following him into the wash racks, chirping emotionally. Rumble and Frenzy had started a minor seismic event during nap time. The nap was canceled. The floor is still cracked... And the caregivers are still traumatized.

He couldn’t blame the facilities. But he also couldn’t keep dragging them to the Senate.

“Senator Soundwave,” crackled a panicked voice over the intercom, “your cassette units are in the ventilation system again. Rumble is—wait—Frenzy just launched himself out of an air duct. Is he—IS THAT A DETONATOR?”

He disconnected the call without comment, which was Soundwave for “I am internally screaming.” Then came the final straw. An emergency Senate meeting. High priority. High stakes. Attendance mandatory. No dependents allowed.”

Soundwave sat very still. Shoulders slumped. Optics dimmed. His spark ached in that slow, quiet way familiar to every working caregiver stuck in a system built by bots who clearly never had to wipe unidentifiable goo off the inside of a political briefing data pad.

Across his screen blinked another security memo: Civil unrest. Riots in Kaon. Broadcasts from Megatron again—raging about the elite and how the Senate catered only to the pristine few.

Soundwave wasn’t sure who the “elite” even were anymore. It definitely wasn’t him. Not forged in the Hall of Records. Not groomed by Primes. Not sipping high-grade energon from crystal flutes while somebody else took the spawnlings to enrichment programming.

He had clawed his way up from the shadow circuits, raised five cassette children while climbing the political ranks, and now? Now he couldn’t even get into an emergency session without a babysitter.

...Then came the final insult: An emergency Senate meeting. High alert. All Senators required. No dependents (OR CASSETTES) allowed.

He tried to reason. Briefly.

“Surely—there is a secure observation chamber—”

“Soundwave,” they interrupted, “we are on the brink of civil war. This is no place for... your cassette situation.”

“Senator Soundwave,” said the automated message, “Reminder: Today’s emergency Senate meeting is classified. No dependents allowed. Attendance is mandatory. Failure to appear will result in loss of voting privileges and probable disciplinary review.”

That was it. Not the clogged air vents. Not the Senate’s thousand-page parenting waiver forms. Not even Ravage getting banned from the cafeteria for hunting the microwave.

It was being told—once again—that his family was a “situation.”

He rage-quit the entire political infrastructure of Cybertron.

He stared at the screen. Slowly. Deliberately. He pressed a button. He activated his surveillance . system. It was the sound and sight of five cassette children screaming in unison while dismantling a vending machine.

He attached the file to his RSVP.

“Regretfully Declined. Kindly and collectively Eat My Entire Aft. Sincerely, Soundwave.”

Then, with the calm of a mech who’d just finally decided, “You know what? To the Pit with this,” he opened a comm line and dialed Megatron.

Megatron: “Soundwave. About time. You ready to rise up?”

Sondwave: “Negative. I’m ready to never fill out another daycare application form EVER again.”

M: “...You bringing the cassettes/children?”

S: “Affirmative. All of them. Rumble, Frenzy, Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Ravage.”

M: “You know we’re starting a violent uprising, right?”

S: “They love those. It's Frenzy’s favorite. I am tuning out of the bureaucratic daycare hellscape that is the Senate.

S: You want me, you take them.”

M: “Can they follow orders?”

S: “Sometimes. It's hit or miss.”

S: “They come with snacks and skills.”

In the background: *Frenzy screaming into the vents for absolutely no reason while buzzsaw and laserbeak eat through the cabling in the wall they're destroying for a nest*

M: “That’s beautiful. Welcome aboard.”

S: “Do Decepticons have healthcare?”

M: “Not really. But we’ve got free refueling and a crying/napping room behind the munitions closet.”

S: “Acceptable. Are dependents allowed to attend meetings?”

M: “They can run HR, for all I care.”

S: “I’m in.”

That night, as the Senate descended into bureaucratic chaos over who was going to draft the Emergency Parking Zoning Act of 405-B, Soundwave reclined in a dark corner of the Decepticon base. Buzzsaw nibbled at Energon snacks. Rumble and Frenzy dropkicked a punching bag labeled “Sentinal Prime.” Ravage dozed atop a crate labeled "Explosives (Definitely Not Toys)."

Soundwave sipped from a cube of high-grade fuel. He’d had enough of trying to be the perfect Senator. Now? He was a Decepticon.

They had a bring-your-minions-to-work policy. And braver babysitters with ball-bearings here. War was hell. But so was parenthood. At least here, the snacks are free and the cassetes could finally be loud. He felt vindicated.

The Senate could keep its rules, panels, and its “no cassettes allowed” elitist energon nonsense. Soundwave was a Decepticon now, and honestly? It came with free dental and part-time daycare (health and safety not guaranteed but frag if he was worried about that on a single mom’s discount ener-mojito-gon night).

And that's why Mamawave became a Decepticon. Corperate and political Cybertron hates families and the working parent.

(much like another planet we know...😤)

I swear--- the older I get, the more I agree with IDW Megatron...

--- I say we start a movement! Like---

Moms And Megatron Against the System! (MAMAS) 🫡🫡🫡

The comic I made if it:

[strawberrystepmom]

NSFW - MDNI. hyoga x f!reader. reader is an agriculturalist. mentions of breasts and vagina. cw: hyoga is mean. dom/sub dynamics, degradation, he jokingly calls reader a pig bc she works in the fields, male masturbation and making reader watch. uhhhh yeah. this is my new bf 💕 wc 2.6k

Of all the things you considered to be new normals in the world post depetrification, you truly never considered that supervised bathing would be one of them.

Teamwork to make the hard work of living in these times easier? Yes. Hoping your assigned “escort” is keeping his eyes to himself while you dip yourself into the warm water of the hot springs around a mile away from the settlement you live in that calls itself a new country? No.

It’s all for safety and you know it but it doesn’t make it any less mortifying that you were not only paired with a man it just had to be one you find yourself undeniably intrigued by and have for the last several months you’ve been a member of the current strength based empire that reigns.

Unfastening the last of the laces on your dress, you yank the itchy fabric over your head and fold it into a small square. Situating it far enough away from the lip of the natural hot spring it will not get wet, you dip your legs into the water first and the rest of you follows, bare to a rapidly darkening evening and Hyoga’s eyes only. Usually his most trusted warrior would be glowering at you from his side of the spring but she’s suspiciously absent tonight, making you believe she may have been ordered to stay behind.

“You can look now.”

As if he hasn’t been stealing glances every time he has escorted you out here regardless of the presence of Homura or not.

His gaze is difficult to see through the overgrown length of his bangs but you have felt it since the first time it fell on you after you were no longer encased in stone. You know it remained on your back while you disrobed, likely dipping lower than your shoulders. You can feel it now despite it being your turn to avert your gaze while he removes his clothing, removing his boots and loin cloth with little ceremony.

He doesn’t tell you not to look but you feel compelled to give him some semblance of privacy until he gives you permission to ogle. His body is a fine tuned weapon and you’ve been caught glancing at the hardened muscles of his chest and abdomen more than once so sparing yourself the embarrassment of being caught again is the easy decision.

The water splashes up over your breasts and shoulders, the white haired man finally entering the warm water with a groan. He dunks his head completely beneath the water and surfaces quickly, pushing the wet strands back and off of his face.

“You can look now, too.”

The remark is sarcastic and you hum back wryly, eyes drinking in the beauty of the brutal man. You don’t believe anyone else aside from his fellow kingdom rulers have seen him without his mask, an uncovered face, a weakness in his eyes, and it makes you feel important for the briefest moment. Water drops off of his eyelashes and down the slope of his nose, dripping down the full cradle of his Cupid’s bow and finally down his chin.

“You are very bad at hiding your staring problem, dirt dweller.”

The nickname makes you snort, picturing yourself as some kind of tiny mole digging through the now seeded and rudimentarily irrigated fields he watches you work in every single day. You’d much rather be an animal built for this work than the human that you are, not particularly built or suited for labor at all. Your domains are situated so close to one another you can practically recite his drill calls and he can hum the asinine songs you sing while digging and seeding.

You still do the work, though, and this is a treat for your perpetually sore muscles.You spread your arms out on either side of you while sinking a little deeper into the water, your chin dipping into it and big eyes glancing upward and across at the company you’ve been granted.

“Like you should talk. The bangs only hide so much, Hyoga. My eyes are up here.”

Making a fist but sticking your thumb out, you jab upward and you swear that the faintest hint of a smile on his face. Hyoga isn’t the joyful type and that in particular is why it still surprises you he willingly sticks with the duty he was given to follow you around making sure you stay out of trouble. It’s almost as if he enjoys your antics.

“You are incredibly mouthy,” he shoots back and there’s a particular note of warning in his tone that makes you tilt your head to the side. “How nobody sees it besides me is shocking.”

He often has something just edgy enough in his tone when it comes to you that you can tell whatever control he’s keeping when you’re around is slipping. Will it be bad for you when he does? Probably, but at least be able to claim victory.

“Oh, you’re so serious. I’m just messing with you.”

Giggling, you surface from the water and the upper weight of your breasts is exposed in a second. Goosebumps form across your now cooled skin and you reach around your back for the cake of soap you brought with you. Grabbing it, you hold it out in Hyoga’s direction, offering him first chance to get clean.

“You go first, you probably stink more.”

His midnight sky eyes are glued to your petrification scar, the dark line that runs from your throat down the midline of your body and stops at your belly button. It’s jagged but reminds him of the rows you spent weeks tilling by hand, not completely straight and narrow and perfect, but an impressive feat despite the flaws.

You’re impressive despite your flaws is what he actually thinks but he shakes his head to send the thought away and shoots back at your lighthearted joke with a scoff and a sneer.

“Doubt it. Only one of us rolls around in the dirt like a pig all day.”

Gasping, you toss the soap to his waiting and cupped hands and make a face he wants to laugh at. Mouth open, eyes narrowed, nose scrunched - you look truly petulant and he wades through the water toward your direction. You don’t move from your spot, letting him move next to you while lathering soap between his big palms.

“Let me help you,” he mutters and then swipes a soapy hand over your face, wiping it down your cheek and lower onto your jaw and neck. “I’m not so sure you’d know how to do this for yourself, simple thing that you are.”

You don’t stop him or protest and you don’t appear fearful either, his hand gradually slipping down your chin and finally following the petrification scar that slips between the valley of your breasts. Glancing up at him, you watch his eyes grow wide when he once again receives zero resistance against his touch.

Do you want him…no. He can’t afford to think that way no matter how reluctantly interested he finds himself when it comes to you. You don’t care about him, you simply want to be touched, your cheeks turning as pink as the sunset in the distance with each span of your flesh his fingers cross.

He rubs slick soap over your lower abdomen beneath the water and you finally give pause, blinking tightly and sighing. Pausing his exploration, he keeps his hand pressed against the soft give of your skin beneath it but decides to let you speak instead of cupping his hand over your mouth. He could easily do it, after all.

“What do you want from me Hyoga?”

He smirks, his own petrification scars jumping when they do. Small circles and lines around his mouth, framing the fullness of both top and bottom lip so well it’s almost a blinking sign daring you to stare at his lips and to imagine what they’d feel like spitting something besides vitriol in your direction.

Luckily, you’re smart enough to know the vitriol is nothing but bluster, if he wanted you dead or knocked down a peg you would be. Instead he silently asks you permission to keep touching, grabbing, mapping, palm firmly pressed against your waist.

His sigh mirrors your own and in an instant the distance between the two of you gets even shorter, his free hand gripping the lip of the hot spring on one side of your head. Leaning in close, he presses his forehead against yours.

“I should ask you the same.” He should, given the slight way you press your thighs together beneath the water, cunt begging for relief after the little show he has put on. “Nah, I should make you tell me.”

He crowds you against the edge of the spring further, knee angling toward your core and promising relief if you’re simply honest and well behaved, agreeable to giving him what he wants. The hand resting on your belly slides back up your body and grips your chin, delicately enough you’re in no danger but firm enough you know he means it.

“So tell me. What do you want?”

The last several months loop in your memories and you can recall each individual time you realized you may want Hyoga with little effort. He’s violent and mean, cold and crass but there’s something in the way he deals with you that screams “want” very loudly. You don’t have experience with men, at least not very much, but you know when you are desired.

Looking down at you, he realizes how easily he’s captured you but he’s the one who feels more like the fly stuck in your sticky honey. He flaps his wings, desperate for release, but only sinks deeper gazing into your eyes that are so full of desperation for him.

Chuckling, he takes advantage of the grip his fingers have on your chin and he lifts it upward slightly.

“So quiet all of a sudden. That’s unusual.”

You smirk and he raises a brow, wondering what you’re planning. Craning your neck, you push your body forward and your lips brush against his so faintly it could be mistaken for an illusion. He groans and leans in to kiss you again, still gripping your chin but letting his other hand fall to the small of your back to press your chest against his.

He hadn’t given much consideration to how truly weak and defenseless you would be against him until now, his single hand splaying across most of your lower back. He could destroy you.

The kiss ends as it began - wordlessly - and he looks down at you with the same glint in his eyes he has spent months trying to hide.

“Tell me what you want,” he insists and you decide to stop playing coy for a moment.

“What if I want you, Hyoga?”

It’s a possibility he has spent too many frustrating nights thinking about, pacing and fisting his cock to the memory of the breathy way you say his name after a long day of work.

He grins but it lacks the usual cruelty he’s so proud of.

“Then you need to know I only reward good behavior.”

Never one to back away from a challenge, the same irresistible little smirk comes across your face and he fights the urge to squeeze your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. To make your smirk disappear and your lips pucker, eager to be met by him again but holding back seems like the most responsible option lest someone stumble upon the two of you.

“And who decides what’s good or bad?”

Now it’s his turn to smirk, an incredible show of power while nude and pressed against the body he has spent a borderline obscene amount of time thinking about.

“Me.”

Rolling your eyes, something Hyoga lets you know he doesn’t appreciate with a wag of your chin, you realize he’s serious. Whatever attitude you had drops and your face falls.

“The odds will always be stacked against me if you’re the one deciding them. You already tolerate me at best.”

Chuckling, he shakes his head and his half hard cock brushes against your inner thigh, sending another rush of pink to your cheeks. Blushing like the simple little thing that you are and giving him a headrush at the same time? You are truly a rare gift he has stumbled upon and he groans, rubbing the length against the soft skin beneath it.

“Does that seem like toleration to you?”

Wordlessly, you shake your head and he leans in to kiss you again. It’s as soft as the first time, the gentleness of his lips a contrast to his demeanor and you let yourself dream for a moment that he cares about you and doesn’t just want to fuck you into next week. It’s not like you can pretend it isn’t what you want as well, pressing your body against his and praying for little more of him with each passing second.

“Listen to me and I’ll give you everything you want, understand?”

Nodding pliantly, you wonder how well you will manage to adhere to his standards when your brain isn’t clouded with emotion and lust. You are into Hyoga against your better judgment and while it’s unclear exactly how he feels about you, at least you can both find common ground even if it’s just each other’s bodies. Cooperation and teamwork are how the new world will be run, after all.

“Let’s finish up and go back. They’re probably wondering why we’ve been gone so long.”

Dropping your chin and removing his knee, you whine and he shoots you something akin to a warning glance. Your flesh heats, the absence of his hand leaving behind a burning sensation, the opposite of his cool demeanor. He feels you looking at him, lathering soap between his palms once more to swipe down the rest of your body and part of you feels compelled to offer to do the same for him but he shakes his head when you reach for the soap.

“No.”

The word is a full sentence so you let him swipe his soapy hands across your arms, your breasts, between your legs. His finger brushes against the slickness between your folds and he chuckles, the confirmation he has been searching for dripping from you. His finger brushes against your clit and you whine once more, hips bucking into the pressure. The sensation is gone as quickly as it came and he cups water into his hands to pour it down your body, eyes watching every droplet as it sluices down your form.

You stand still as a statue and he wonders why he didn’t take the chance to do this sooner, cock jumping beneath the water. Satisfied with your cleanliness, he nods to instruct you to get out and contemplates how to best prolong your suffering, lathering up his palm again and putting a distance between the two of you. His hips rest above the water, proud cock standing tall and heavy, and he slowly starts to stroke himself.

“Let’s see how much self control you have,” he taunts from the other side of the spring, fisting his pretty cock while you look on. Your eyes are glued to his every move and he wonders why he ever pictured himself as the fly knowing you are the one who is truly trapped. He just needs to test how far he can push you, stroking again and letting a shaky groan rumble from his chest.

The sun falls the rest of the way and night arrives, Hyoga prepared to deal with whatever heat keeping you away from everyone this long will bring after he’s certain you fully understand the terms and conditions of his offer. He’s in charge here and you will do whatever he pleases, your lower lip tucked between your teeth and eyes glued to his fist.

Maybe this situation will be easier than he expected.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Imagine this for post jttw.

There's a really, really important festival coming up for FFM. Soemthing similar to Qingming, specifically to remember and celebrate those lost to the Great Burning and the War, and it's something that's SUPER stressful for Wukong because, well, he feels that he has to get this right no matter what! It was HIS foolishness that led to the War and the Burning, so the least he can do is try to make sure it's perfect for the monkeya who make a pilgrimage line to participate in the festival. Normally, he has Macaque there to keep him in check and help him out.

But this time, Macaque isn't there! He's still missing!

MK knows this is a very stressful time for his mom, especially since this is the first time he had to go through the ceremony and festival without his dad. He wants to help! He asks Pigsy for vacation time, about a week or two off so he can help his mom with preparations. This is the first time MK has ever asked for time off, he never asks for it off even when he gets hurt doing his Monkie Kid thing! So, of course, Pigsy is concerned and asks.

MK: It's just... there's this important festival going on up on the mountain soon, and it's really stressing Mom out. It's supposed to be a remembrance of those we've lost and the celebration of how our ancestral hone has healed from near destruction. Mom is trying to put it together all by himself since Dad is gone, and I'm worried about him, so I just want to help him out! Do my part as the Prince of Flower Fruit Mountain."

Of course, the group decided to get involved. Both because they don't want Wukong getting stressed out and also because they really wanna see the festival! When they head up the mountain, they find that MK was right to worry. Poor Wukong is a mess as he tries to juggle getting the bonfires ready, getting his ceremonial robes cleaned and refitted, writing a speech that isn't a rehash of what he did the last 100 years, dealing with his anxiety over said speech because of his stage fright, caring for the cubs and making sure they're not gonna cause chaos, figuring out travel routes for those who live away from the mountain, etc.

+a similar ask from @soniclozdplove;

Had to do some thinkings for this one;

Qingming is a Spring festival (April 4th this year), so I can imagine the "Memorial Day" for the Burning taking place between then and New Years.

Wukong has hosted the Memorial Day just fine in the previous years... but then again, Macaque was always at his side in those years. Without his mate beside him, Wukong starts feeling the pressure of organising such an important yearly event (not to mention him missing Mac so much he feels sick, but that could also just be pregnancy nausea).

MK has goofed around a lot in terms of his responsibilities as Prince - it comes with the casual nature of FFM. This year he wants to step up and help his mom with stuff he's worried about. Wukong tells MK he really doesn't have to, but is clearly delighted to have someone step in to help.

MK immediately runs to Mei, breathlessly explaining that he needs help organising the Memorial Festival since he has no idea what he's doing!

With a touch of her phone, Mei organises the crack team of party planners;

Mei: "Ok, what's Monkey King most worried about?" MK, counting off his fingers: "One, the festival tends to have bonfires on the beach that get doused at the end of the night to symbolise the fires on the mountain being quenched (mom really doesn't like fire). There's a lot of music and dancing involved." Mei, points to the line-up: "Red Boy! You're on pyrotechnics! I'll man the tunes! Jin and Yin will organise the dance floor!" Red, grumbling: "Stop calling me Red Boy." Jin & Yin: "Yea!" "We've helped out before!" "Course normally big brother supervised, but we can do it with our eyes closed!" MK: "Two; Transport for monkeys living on the mainland so that they can attend the festival." Sandy: "Oh I can do that! I ferry people across all the time!" MK: "Great! Next is someone to man the food stations. A lot of it is fresh fruit and vegetables, but there's normally a pot luck table with grills and soup pots going. Pigsy, can you pretty please help manage that?" Pigsy, determined look in his eyes: "If you insist." MK: "Fourth; Mom gets super nervous about the yearly speech he does to the subjects, so he'll need someone to help him out with that." Tang, hands shoots up: "OH OH! I can help! I do lectures and presentations all the time at work!" MK: "Ok, phew! That's a lot of the heavy work sorted out. The major one, and this is a doozy cus baba normally does it; someone to keep an eye on the cubs during the festival." Noodle Gang: (*look confusedly between themselves*) DBK, sudden booming voice: "I will be honoured to care for my xiandi's young for the durration of the Festival!" MK: "Wait, really? But aren't you nervous about people still being mad about the whole "Tried to Take Over the City"-thing?" DBK: "Boy, my wife and I tended to you in the years following your birth! Your parents were still busy rebuilding, and you were quite a troublemaker for someone not able to walk yet!" MK, embarrassed: "Guess that answers that question. Thank you guys." (*getting emotional*) Mei: "Aww, come here little monkey man." MK: (*gets group hugged*)

The day comes and... literally, almost everything doesn't go as planned.

Red Son misjudged the amount of fuel needed to start a bonfire and accidentally sets the whole beach alight before the party even starts. PIF (wind powers) and the others (extinguishers) help put it out, but the sand is noticibly scorched. Red insists on spending half the day trying to start bonfires "the old fashioned way" with flint, to avoid similar accidents. Red panics cus he's worried that his magic fire could trigger the monkeys who survived the Burning.

Sandy has to make multiple trips to and from the mainland to FFM, and hits a rough patch of rain as he's coming in. PIF sees the rain clouds ahead and uses her powers to blow them away for now. Hopefully that wont come back to bite them (lie). Each of are the Four Stalwarts arrive on different trips, and try their best to help out.

Mei is used to high-energy dance and rock music, and has no idea how to groove to the more traditional island tunes.

Multiple mishaps with Jin & Yin setting up the eating areas and dance floor. A few benches break cus the twins either got pinched by a crab or their feet stuck in a sand trap.

Pigsy managed to set a beautiful spread of fresh fruits and vegetables, and has the grills and cookers prepared. He is however, currently at war with the ungodly amount of pests attracted to the spread.

Tang is upfront with Wukong in helping him with his speech and the Monkey King is super grateful. Accidentally turns into an improv/therapy session as Wukong rambles to Tang about how he's feeling + the times previous festivals went badly. No actual speech prep ends up taking place.

DBK starts out fine with taking care of the cubs. But he's a complete pushover, especially towards his godcalves; the twins aptly nicknamed Rumble & Savage. The twins quickly have Uncle Bull allowing them to run off and fight eachother with weapons, and take food from Pigsy's table before the party even starts. PIF steps in to corral the misbehavior, but is distracted by little Luzhen running off and making hair clones of himself. Yuebei spends most of the initial drama asleep.

MK is supervising everything and is getting a little control-freaky. Calls up his clones to supervise different sectors of the party (Delivery for Food, Artist for Decor, Porty for music) and keeps running to and from characters to keep an eye on them.

All the guests arrive and things are going ok until- WHOOPS! The rain cloud PIF blew away came back with a vengance and turns into a tropical storm! PIF can't help rn either - Luzhen stole her fan and she's trying to catch him before he knocks over half the island.

The whole party has to be moved inside, much to the dismay of those who prepared it. Red's efforts in making the bonfires were for naught. Pigsy's beloved food spread has to be dismantled and moved inside. Mei's dj equipment nearly gets soaked. Jin & Yin nearly get lost in quicksand. MK's cloned went a bit haywire and have to be wrangled up.

Just as things look like they couldn't get any worse... the rain wakes up Yuebei. As she registers that she's wet and see can't see her Mama or Baba; an ungodly scream and two massive eye lazers shoot from her. DBK takes HP damage. All the babies/cubs attending the festival have to be rushed inside cus there's so much crying.

Wukong exits his office in the Stone Palace to see Water Curtain Cave packed to the gills with his subjects and freezes. He did not expect them all to be here now! Stage fright activated. Tang thankfully manages to encourage Wukong to take his place. The Stalwarts cheer for their little brother as he stammers through his few lines of well wishes and recap of the year. The room gets really quiet when he mentions the missing Warrior... The subjects take a moment to pray, not only for those lost all thoee centuries ago, but also those who could not be there that day.

The subjects then applaud not only their Kibg for his guidence, but MK and his friends for their effort! They all did wonderfully! To bring the decendants of the Pilgrims, and dear Brother Bull and Sister Iron Fan to them was an amazing feat! The praise is unprompted and MK, the Noodle gang, Jin & Yin, and the Bull family can't help but smile.

Rumble and Savage cut Uncle Bull and Auntie Iron Fab a break, and show that they used their portals to finally catch little Luzhen (fan included). The bull couple are immensely grateful and tired.

As the party officialy begins, within the walls of the caves rather tan the open beaches, Wukong brings his son aside to talk. Tipped off by four certain Stalwarts about the Prince and his friends' troubles organising everything;

Wukong: "Wait, you got all your friends, including my older siblings involved just to make sure I wasn't worried about the Festival?" MK, sheepish: "Yeah..." (*Wukong pulls MK in to a tight hug*) Wukong: "Thanks kiddo. But it's not the Festival itself I was worried about. I was just..." MK: "You really miss dad." Wukong, sadly: "I do. I really, really do. I haven't spent a holiday without him since before you were born. It's just with the Memorial Festival, I just kept thinking back to him. How he'd help me proofread my speech. How he'd direct plays for the subjects. How he'd keep your or your siblings in line so you wouldn't cause Havoc..." (*turns head away and sniffs*) Wukong, crying lightly: "You're so much like me and your dad, bud. I bet he would have loved to see your first planned Festival." MK: "Thanks mama." (*hugs back more*) Wukong, wiping his tears: "OK! Enough weeping! There's a whole festival to celebrate out there! Plus, we have to make sure the cubs haven't broken your Aunt and Uncle." MK: "I doubt it." (*Meanwhile with the Bull couple and the cubs*) DBK & PIF: (*covered in laser burns and bits of fruit as the four younger cubs + MK's clones sleep in a baby pile*) PIF, whispering: "And I thought our little firelily was a handful." DBK, happy but exhausted: "They are certainly Brother Wukong's children." PIF: "The playfulness, yes. But using shadow portals to toss fruit at each other from multiple dimensions? Using hair clones to steal my fan? That's Macaque."

Realms away; Macaque allows tears to fall to as his ears pick up what joyfull celebration he's missing. But he needs to ensure there's a way LBD doesn't make this Memorial Festival their last...

[ssahotchnerr]

carving pumpkins with the boys <3 making a HUGE mess and getting it all over your clothes and aaron is just like sighing with the cutest lil smile bc be loves you guys sm but he's like "damn, should have bought aprons 😟" LMAO

AHH YESSS 🥹

aaron being a lil weary over carving pumpkins 😭 like he absolutely LOVES the activity and thinks it a must-do every year, but he hates the smell, the mess, scooping all the pumpkin guts out, and the seeds and all make his hands superrrr itchy 😭 SO you just buy him a pair of gloves to wear, and promise you'll light candles as soon as you're all done to get rid of the smell :D but aaron just ends up being mainly on supervising/taking pictures/cleaning as you go duty LOL

you cover the dining room table with newspapers to make the mess pick-up somewhat easier, but it's inevitable 😭 pumpkins guts are going to get everywhereeeee - like jack attempts to scrape the guts out with a little too much force (it's not his fault >:( the pumpkin strings are stubborn, sweet jack's not the strongest just yet 😭 and you offer to help but he mainly wants to do it 🥺 you just fine tune towards the end) so when it does come off - seeds just FLING into the air and shoot right back at the three of you, or land on the floor rather than the table 😭 jack thinks it's hilarious, especially at his father's reaction 😭 heheh aaron's just all :| this is fine, and you're laughing along with jack, but OF COURSE aaron can't even pretend he's not having a good time 🥹 hehe his softie smile just continuously appears on his face and he just feels so content and he just loves the sound of his two favorite people happily laughing 🥰

with the guts gone - aaron sketches face onto the pumpkin, with jack glued right at his side instructing him on what to do, with you offering suggestions - hehe jack wanted a scary face >:) but it's about as scary as it can be for a six year old LOL. and he started to go REALLY into detail on the face - you have to talk him down to a simpler design for aaron's sake/in awareness of his pumpkin carving capabilities 😭 and then aaron himself also carves the face out due to the sharper tool too - no one's getting injured on his watch 🫵🏻

and the end result 🥹 a perfect not-so-scary pumpkin <33333 (and a mess 🥰 SO that's when aaron says 'next year, we're getting aprons' LOL) and of course he has to take a picture of you and jackers grinning right next to it 🥰 it ends up being his november lockscreen <333

[candyhoiic]

Okay so hear me out what if when a soul went to heaven, they would still remember a majority of their previous life while other memories would be forgotten almost instantaneously. However, the longer they exist in heaven, the more they will inevitably forget until they can only remember the basics of their past. Like they know who they are, but they're not sure how they exactly became that person.

I like to think that if this were the case, some memories would vanish faster than others in order to make it easier for the soul to be happy and move on with their (after)life. Like the more traumatic memories would be erased from their mind while the happier memories would linger. And to some extent I feel like this would also pertain to people they knew as well. For example, say they had a lot of happy memories with someone who went to hell instead of heaven. Well the good news is they won't remember them for long! /sar

It would actually be so messed up if this were the case like they just wouldn't remember the person one day. Even though they would still know that they must have been close to someone in their life on Earth, but whenever they try to remember they just end up with a headache. So, they decide it must not be that important anyways.

I feel like in that case the only way this effect would be reversed is if the winner/angel was directly face to face with the person they had previously forgotten about, which is unlikely considering how closed off heaven is to hell. Which would also make sense why Sera isn't exactly thrilled with the idea of sinners being redeemed because well wouldn't that just be another way of showing how unperfect heaven actually is. Instead, of them treating the problem, they simply hide it. Sounds familiar, right?

Anyways I want you all to imagine this happening to Adam. Imagine him coming up to heaven, and as the first human soul to enter, he was sort of a heaven's guinea pig leading to the effects being stronger on him than it would be on others since at that time heaven wasn't exactly fine tuned for a human soul to exist there. So, instead of having most of his memories in tact, he basically has none. He doesn't really remember Eden or what went down there. He knows he's the first man and that he lived there at one point before something bad happened, but that's basically it.

He doesn't remember his first or second wife nor does he remember Lucifer much less how he was betrayed by him because honestly, there's no doubt in my mind that these two knew each other and were at the bare minimum friends back in Eden before everything went down. I like to think he doesn't even really remember much of his life outside of Eden. Cain and Abel, who? He just remembers that his life had been better in Eden then it was outside of it.

With his lack of memory as to who he is, he's stuck grappling with the little he does know. Which would justify why he holds onto the title of the first man so hard throughout the series. Because in the beginning that's all he had. Anything else he knew about himself was told to him by Sera and the other angels. Of course, this would lead to him feeling unsure of what to do with his afterlife, and very much like before in Eden he was mainly left alone to just stumble and learn things for himself.

The lack of supervision didn't do much good for him, and I can imagine he was feeling quite lonely not having any other human souls to interact with. It made him feel alienated, and left him with time to wonder about all the things he must have forgotten because he knows he had people he loved back down on earth. Knows there's so much of himself missing that he has no hopes of recovering. It leaves him frustrated and what should be paradise feels like a prison.

Honestly, he might have ended up going crazy if it weren't for him discovering music, and using it to express himself even when he had no one to really share it with. Until one day he was playing a random string instrument and then there was suddenly clapping, and that's how he met the second human soul to ever enter heaven. He instantly clung to their presence, and probably would have hoarded them all to himself if it weren't for Sera and the other seraphim showing up.

When he first saw the angels again, his first instinct was to cling to the other soul for some reason. His body just kind of reacting on its own as if angels had taken someone away from him before. He didn't let go of the other human soul until Sera reassured them, that this soul would be staying in heaven with him. However, even then he didn't stray far from the other's side, but Sera simply moved on.

In celebration for the second human soul finally making it to heaven, the angels gave him the privilege of naming what human souls would be called once they entered heaven, explaining to him how he had been in charge of naming all the animals in Eden beforehand. And when they told him this, he couldn't deny how right that sounded. It brought warmth to his soul to have this little piece of himself back. He felt like he won something in that moment, and thus human souls would be called winners.

Anyways flash forward to years later and well Adam was doing better. He still didn't remember much of his life on Earth, but with more and more winners showing up he stopped caring as much. It was still in the back of his mind, but for the most part he was happy with his place in heaven.

He may have even gotten a little bit too complacent with his new life of being the first human soul to make it to heaven. He let himself go some since the winners would dote on him, making it so easy to simply let them do things for him. Although one thing he never stopped doing was playing music. Any and all instruments just felt right in his hands like music was an important part of him.

Life was good until he started to notice the new amount of winners coming into heaven started to slow, and how Sera grew worried with each passing day. Eventually he asked her what was wrong not really expecting an answer, knowing how secretive she could be. Although it seemed like even she had her limits because for better or for worse she told him about hell and how their population was rising faster than heavens. She unloaded concerns on him that she really should have known better than to burden him with. He may be the first man but he was still just that a man.

When he heard about this, he felt an urge to know more about hell. He felt like hell had answers he couldn't find in heaven about his life, and again he really shouldn't have been allowed to, but he was able to convince Sera to let him see hell. He reasoned he had a right to see where his other descendants were going. Besides maybe he could put some of her worries to rest by spying around what was currently happening in hell.

So, that's how he found himself heading down to hell to simply go down there and scout out the place nothing more, nothing less. Sera had even given him a mask similar to his exterminator mask we see him wear in the show so he could blend in better with the demons who lived down there.

If only he realized that even a quick visit to the dwellings of sin could still corrupt the soul. It wasn't as much as it would have been if he were cast out of heaven without his heavenly aurora to shield him from the brunt of hell's oppressive environment, but it still effected him more than one would think. It made him more sensitive to the the temptation of sin. Made him feel less pitiable towards the plight of his fallen descendants, but even then the trip would have gone without incident.

He probably would have even completely recovered from the surface level tainting his soul was experiencing if not for the fact he would catch a glance of Lucifer and Lilith of all people. Thankfully, he saw them at a distance, but a look was all it took for all his memories with Lucifer and Lilith to come slamming back. All the good and bad of a whole life time was remembered in a matter of minutes. Leaving him feeling rage and betrayal that he wouldn't know what to do with because well emotions and him just don't mix.

These already strong feelings were amplified by hell's atmosphere tainting his soul, which in turn would worsen the extent of harm his soul would go through. Thus, this mere instance would eventually lead to the development of exterminations, and developing Adam into the character we see in the show.

[avocado-writing]

Could I request some reader/Gabriel, or reader/Jim? Either with Gabriel’s musings over falling for/being fascinated with a human(?) partner, or reader and Jim indulging in soft courtship and just being idiots in love with each other? Thank you so much for doing these, love your writing so much! 💛

this was fun! I love jim 💕 enjoy!

Jim x reader w/ background aziraphale x Crowley

The first time Jim hears you singing, he’s the only customer in the coffee shop. Aziraphale trusted him with a ten pound note and an order in his head. You clearly don’t even realise that he’s there, you simply belt along with the music you have gently playing over the speakers as you set up the espresso machine. 

It’s lovely. He’s so enchanted by it all he can do is listen. 

When you turn, you yelp. A look he doesn’t realise crosses your face - it’s embarrassment - and you bristle. 

“How long have you been standing there?”

He blinks, put off by your hostility. 

“Not long,” he states. You still seem to want something more from him. He doesn’t know what it is, so instead he offers the truth. “I like your voice. What song is it?”

You seem surprised by that, and it drops your guard and your irritation. 

“You don’t know this song? It’s pretty famous.”

Jim shrugs. 

“No.”

“It’s Take A Chance On Me by ABBA,” you tell him. Jim listens to the music for a bit, enjoying the tune, then smiles at you. 

“I like it more when you sing it.”

You’re a bit taken aback but finally end up smiling. 

“That’s very kind, uh…?”

“Jim.”

He reads your name off your employee badge and commits it to memory, only to find he’s totally forgotten the drinks order. 

🪽 

He next hears you sing when you’re closing up a few weeks later, but it’s okay - he works there too now. Aziraphale let him get a job there under the promise he’d behave. And he does. He’s quite a natural at it, actually, he enthuses about the coffee to every customer who comes through the door and they’re happy to chat with him. 

And he’s pretty easy on the eyes which doesn’t hurt. 

You’re singing under your breath, he can hear the music you have playing quietly on your phone. As he wipes down the tables, he peers over your shoulder. 

“Is this ABBA too?”

You laugh, not unkindly. 

“Huh? Oh, no. This isn’t ABBA. This is I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston.”

“Oh.” He listens to a few bars. “I like this one too, I think.”

You take it easy on him. Apparently he has amnesia, so that’s probably why he doesn’t remember a lot of music. You start the song again, louder this time for him, and hum along to it. 

He listens to your voice more than the song, and finds himself getting a strange fluttery feeling in his chest. When he goes home and asks Aziraphale about it, he’s told it might be affection. 

🪽 

He listens to the radio a lot when he’s in the bookshop now. 

The classical stations, the oldies, the top 40. All of it. He listens and he listens. He makes a mental note of what he’s heard you singing, because those are the ones he likes the most. He uses the internet - under watchful supervision - to research the artists he knows you enjoy. He likes to be able to keep up a conversation with you, likes the way you light up when you talk.  

He likes you. 

🪽 

“Are you sure about this, angel?” Crowley asks, narrowing his eyes. Aziraphale straightens Jim’s tie. 

“Yes, I think it’s a perfectly lovely idea.”

When Jim suggested he would quite like to ask you out to dinner, Aziraphale had decided it would probably be fine, under the condition that if you declined he wouldn’t bother you about it again. Jim didn’t know much about human culture but understood that it was frowned upon to pursue someone who said no, so agreed. 

And now here he was. In his little suit Aziraphale had loaned him. A bunch of flowers in his hand. Waiting for your shift to end. When he sees you coming out of the shop and locking up, Aziraphale sends him off with an encouraging pat on the back. 

He and Crowley watch from the window. 

“If he remembers who he is, this could turn into a nightmare.”

“Perhaps. But look at them, they make each other so happy. I think… maybe they both deserve that.”

Aziraphale loves love, and Crowley loves Aziraphale, so keeps his mouth shut and watches the scene unfold. 

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Lol, I'm gonna talk about SNOW WHITE a little bit... After all, it is a re-imagining of one of the most important animated movies in history... If not THE most important...

The press seems to keep implying that one of the reasons this mega-budgeted Disney behemoth flopped is...

The age of the movie...

In addition to running the gamut of all the "controversies" surrounding the film well before its release in an attempt to explain this bad opening away. (It's really none of those things, either.)

But that's one of the sentiments being echoed, "Well, it's based on one of the oldest Disney movies, which is almost 90! That's why people aren't really showing up."

That seems like a legit reason, no?

Among the lowest openers of the live-action/photoreal Disney remakes are the ones based on the Walt-era films.

SNOW WHITE was 1937, PINOCCHIO from 1940's remake went straight to Disney+ so we can't use that to gauge anything. Hold on, let's see... 1941's DUMBO. The 2019 remake opened with $45m. One of the rare flops of the pre-COVID stretch of Disney remakes, which all seemed to be unstoppable. CINDERELLA, 1950, the remake opened with with $67m. It was one of the lower budget ones, so it did fine in the end. Over $500m worldwide, covered things quite nicely. MALEFICENT, off of 1959's SLEEPING BEAUTY, opened with with $69m, its sequel didn't do as well... Yet well enough for a third one to be in development, okay. Then there's ALICE IN WONDERLAND, partially based on the 1951 animated film, with a $116m opening-WHOOPS! And how about THE JUNGLE BOOK, inspired by the 1967 animated film, the last one Walt was alive to personally supervise most of, opened with $103m- WHOOPS!

Are we sure it's the age of the film? Are we sure it's because it's based on a Walt-era film? Let alone, the first ever?

While it is true that the remakes based on the Renaissance favorites, such as BEAUTY AND THE BEAST and THE LION KING, tend to be among the biggest of that crop of films... and LILO & STITCH - based on a 2002 movie - is sure to land somewhere around there in late May... I still don't think that really explains things here. Why this particular remake didn't open great. (Relative to budget, if SNOW WHITE were some $100m-costing endeavor, everyone would be singing a different tune.)

Some of the press, some of the box office analysts, are trying to suggest that SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS' age hurt the remake's chances at the box office. And even go as far as suggesting that it's not really a quality film... That the original is some "musty" old movie that isn't well-liked...

For example, from BoxOfficePro:

"Children will always gravitate towards fairy tales and princesses, but this one could have simply been too old, musty, and devoid of beloved songs."

The key words being "could have"... And they're not the only ones who have said something like this...

I mean, forget that SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS remains the highest-grossing animated movie of all time when you adjust the ticket sales to today's prices, and that's not even beginning to factor in all the re-release totals over the span of six decades. Sorry, NE ZHA 2 and INSIDE OUT 2... When the film came to video in 1994, the film was approaching its 57th year of existence... The home video release was among one of the biggest of all-time for ANY MOVIE, moving 50m units worldwide, sitting comfortably alongside other Disney home video record-breakers BEAUTY AND THE BEAST and ALADDIN, and also walloping contemporary blockbusters on video like JURASSIC PARK. Like, it's impossible that people my age (32) aren't really aware of this old-ass movie. I feel like everybody I knew had it on VHS, I certainly did!

Oh, and when it came to DVD in 2001? Same deal, sold millions of units. Snow White is always prominent on the "Princess" franchise stuff. You get the idea, there's obviously something good about the movie if it keeps moving those kinds of units whenever it comes around. Unlike, say, whenever OLIVER & COMPANY came out of the vault, or even something like ROBIN HOOD.

And that’s not even getting into its impact upon original release, and how it was praised by and influenced filmmakers like Sergei Eisenstein, Dario Argento, Orson Welles, the list goes on. How the premiere ended in an audience of Hollywood regulars - many of whom doubted the production - utterly moved by drawings.

And as for songs? Who DOESN'T know 'Heigh Ho', 'Whistle While You Work', and 'Someday My Prince Will Come'? The latter partially inspired 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' from THE WIZARD OF OZ, for goodness sake! 'I'm Wishing' inspired John Lennon when writing 'Do You Want To Know a Secret', a goddamn Beatles song. Whether they're beloved TODAY or not, that's besides the point. These aren't duff songs by any means, and the way they're woven into the narrative still works great to this day. The filmmakers at the Walt Disney studio in the mid 1930s understood the assignment, what makes a musical work. How it isn't merely characters singing at random points, in that it's the film's storytelling transporting YOU into the characters' feelings, seeing the world from their perspective. And meanwhile, you have a more recent Disney musical like MOANA 2 that keeps self-consciously reminding us how weeeeeeird it is for people to start singing.

Oh yeah, speaking of 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'... THE WIZARD OF OZ came out two years after SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS. A 1939 movie... and recently we had WICKED PART ONE come out and do excellently. WICKED wouldn't be a thing without THE WIZARD OF OZ, let alone the century-old source material... So I guess one movie isn't old and musty, but the other one is?

Make that make sense...

Okay, sorry, I don't mean to sound bitchy... But, to the people writing these articles... Please look harder...

I know what it is...

SNOW WHITE AND THE SEVEN DWARFS, unlike THE WIZARD OF OZ, is an animated film. And a Disney film at that. No one's going to speak of THE WIZARD OF OZ as if it's some outdated old trinket, nor write that about any other classic live-action family film... I know, I know. It's been this way forever when it comes to talking about animated movies. SNOW WHITE gets more knocking, in more ways than one, because it's animated. An inferior cartoon for children. I'm probably overthinking these weird claims that were probably off-the-cuff on the writers' collective parts, but...

SNOW WHITE, the 1937 movie, is so much more than just some outdated old cartoon... It is so much more than just "oh, it's the first Disney animated movie, an admirable first shot that would be improved upon by later movies." It wasn't a trial-and-error film that lead to better things down the line, it's a Disney masterpiece through to through to these eyes and ears. The first, and one of the best.

Thus, the remake flopping is NOT because of the original...

If anything, SNOW WHITE '25 took in $42m this weekend **because** of the original and how iconic it is. At the theater I work at, we got quite a few girls dressed as Snow White. Clearly lots of people, even kids, know this character, this old film, and even... *GASP* Like it to some degree?

If this was some new fantasy movie, I don't think it would've made those kinds of numbers, especially with those rough-looking CGI'ed dwarfs. Who the heck would see this movie if the original 1937 film did not exist? Plunk this thing into an alternate universe where Disney never got around to making features, maybe never even existed to begin with... Do you think people would go and see this thing? I don't really think so... The "Snow White" name and imagery and iconography got the few people who saw this thing to get to the cinema in the first place.

It's only not making real money, like, say, $80m+ domestically on opening weekend because... Well, I'll be real, if I wasn't some Disney animation superfan and was just some casual moviegoer? I wouldn't want to watch it. It just looks like a waste of time. Badly CGI'ed dwarfs like something out of the CATS movie, and garish visuals that don't suggest the splendor a big budget fantasy film *should* offer. It's 2025, there's no reason a $250m+ SNOW WHITE movie should look like that. Especially from Disney.

And I suspect even people who are familiar with and even LIKE the original SNOW WHITE from 1937 probably felt the same.

That Disney could do much better with this live-action/CG re-imagining. CINDERELLA 2015 did great and even managed to get some of the best reviews for one of these remakes, this could've done the same! Even though the Renaissance remakes BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, ALADDIN, and LION KING got bad marks online for their visuals, they still passed audiences' tests for approval. It wasn't that much of a bar to clear! SNOW WHITE just didn't, and it has everything to do with its dead-on-arrival looks... Not because of Rachel Zegler playing Snow White, not because of anything she said, not because of any political matters really... I think Joe Sixpack and Jane Soccermom are pretty much tuned out of that very online nonsense...

Oh, and **certainly** NOT because of the 1937 animated feature that started everything to begin with...

It just looked bad, and apparently it ended up being unsatisfactory...

[literatecowboy]

Dr. Feelgood

5. The Seaside

Part 1

Next

Summary: You've been in trouble at work several times before for "lack of professionalism" but now you've gone too far. You've been reassigned to Task Force 141 as a temporary doctor to replace the ones they've made quit out of frustration. You must either prove yourself and earn your former position back at a prestigious military hospital in California or face dishonorable discharge. Author's Notes: This is my first fanfiction - please be gentle. Additionally, the reader's callsign is "Feelgood." I have done my best to write the reader as ambiguous regarding appearance, but she/her pronouns and AFAB anatomy will be utilized. I hope for this to be a slow-burn romance with Simon "Ghost" Riley.  Warnings: Mature 18+, MDNI, voyeurism, masturbation, flirting and pining, wounds and medical care, discussion of medicine and doctoring

-----

It was cold outside as you hugged Gaz, kissing his cheek before you released him and patted him on the shoulder. 

“You boys be safe, you hear me? I don’t want to come get you and find one of you has gotten hurt,” you said, wrapping Soap into a hug and kissing his cheek when he presented it to you with a smile. 

“Don’t worry about us, lass, we’ll be alright,” he said. You hugged Price next and he squeezed you tight.

“Keep Ghost out of trouble,” he murmured, patting you on the shoulder as he headed for the plane. Ghost was leaning against the car you’d driven to the airfield in, quietly supervising as you bid them goodbye. 

“Don’t give her too much trouble,” Gaz teased, offering Ghost a wave as Soap clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Be back soon, mate. Gonna miss you on this one.”

And then they were off, headed onto the plane as you and Ghost climbed back into the car. He’d taken the driver’s seat this time and instead of heading back towards the buildings, he steered the car off base and toward the seaside. 

“Breakfast sound good to you?” he asked.

“Doesn’t seem like you’re giving me a choice,” you laughed. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?”

He ignored you. 

—

A little while later, you found yourself sitting across from Ghost in a booth at a diner in a tiny town by the sea. He watched you as you ate, only occasionally lifting his mask to sip the tea he’d ordered, and you quirked an eyebrow at him. 

“So you ask if I want to have breakfast, bring me here, and then don’t eat. Are you feeling alright?” you asked, setting your fork down and leaning your head in your palm as you watched him. 

“M’ fine,” he grunted, finishing his tea and pulling his mask back down. “Thought some time out here would do you some good,” he admitted. You smiled, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

“It is pretty, this place. Do you come here very often?” you asked. The waitress came to the table to leave the bill and clear some of your dishes. Before you could reach for it, Ghost paid. You frowned. 

“Can I pay you back for my food? You didn’t eat anything,” you protested, pulling your wallet out. 

“No.”

—

After you left the diner you meandered slowly along the grassy banks by the water, listening quietly to the birds calling and the waves crashing. It was a cold day - nobody was out and about, and you shivered as you sat with Ghost on a bench to admire the scenery. 

“You’re cold,” he said, slipping out of his jacket and offering it to you. 

“Careful, Ghost, I might start thinking this is a date,” you said with a laugh as you wrapped it around your body. It was massive and warmed you up instantly, and it smelled like him. You were going to keep it. 

He stayed silent at your remark, sliding his arm along the back of the bench beside you. You did your best to lean back into it without overtly cuddling into him, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. 

Ghost’s chest was tight and his heart was racing as he played absentmindedly with the ends of your hair. For the first time in a long time, he had tuned out the world around him as you sat with him on the bench. He spread his legs discreetly until your thighs touched. 

“My name is Simon,” he said. You looked up at him, your eyes wide. 

“Simon,” you murmured the name out loud and decided it sounded good on your lips. He seemed to like it too - he closed his eyes and smiled beneath his balaclava. 

—

The day went by too quickly for your liking.

After telling you his name, Simon’s floodgates had truly opened. You had talked for hours on the bench by the sea, and even though you contributed the most to the conversation verbally, you started to feel as if you’d known the man for years. 

Eventually, he took you to get your first authentic fish and chips meal. You had stuck mostly to the chips and he’d finished your fish for you. He’d taken you to a little market, showing you what sort of tea he liked the best and holding the shopping basket as you filled it with British candy to sample when you got back home. 

It was evening when you returned to base. Simon paused at the med bay doors but you shook your head. 

“You’re healing up well, big guy. I think I can send you back to your bed now,” you said. Your chest tightened a little - you’d miss his almost constant presence, even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself.

Ghost seemed hesitant, as if he’d miss you too. He walked with you down the hall and saw you to your door, and you hugged him before you slipped in. He closed his eyes and squeezed you gently, ignoring the pain in his abdomen as he pulled you close and did his best to memorize how your body felt against his. 

“Just knock on the adjoining wall if you need anything,” you said. You shut your door. 

—

Simon lay on his bed in the dark, his eyes closed. His phone lay on his chest, your contact profile glowing brightly on his screen. He’d set one of the photos he’d taken of you that day by the sea as your contact photo and had spent ages looking at it, thinking. 

A soft, muffled noise broke the silence from your side of the wall and his chest tightened. Another followed it - soft buzzing - and it made Simon go rigid in bed. 

He laid stock still, listening to your quiet, breathy moans and whimpers. The buzzing sound picked up in intensity and Simon felt himself stiffen in his pants as blood rushed to his cock. 

He felt dirty as he unbuckled and took down his pants as quietly as he could so as not to disturb you and started palming himself through his boxers, doing his best to resist the urges surging through his body. Words from the other side of the wall made him freeze. 

“Fuck, Simon,” you gasped breathily. 

He pictured you then, splayed out beneath him as he fucked into you slowly, the size of his cock making your eyes water and your mouth fall open in pleasure. He wanted nothing more than to take your hand in his, pin you down, and grind his hips into yours, peppering kisses across your breasts as you begged for him. 

Simon couldn’t help himself anymore. He freed himself from his boxers and used the precum dripping down his tip as lube as he worked his fist up and down his length, straining to hear your lovely sighs as you pleasured yourself to thoughts of him mere feet away. 

“Fuck, yes, Simon!” you cried out, a little louder this time. The headboard of your bad smacked against the wall once, twice. He pictured your body jerking uncontrollably as you came with his name on your lips, and couldn’t stop his orgasm from surprising him. The buzzing on the other side of the wall stopped. 

Simon caught his breath, tearing his balaclava off and leaning his free hand against your shared wall, his heart aching. 

—

“Good morning!” you called out as Simon came into the med bay. You were bent over by your desk, rummaging through your junk drawer as he wandered in. 

“Need help looking for something?” he asked, coming up behind you and watching you search. 

“It’s alright, I’ll find it later. I was just looking for extra printer paper,” you said, standing and brightening as you took him in. You recalled what you had done the previous night and your cheeks warmed. 

“Get a good night’s rest?” you asked, scooping up the clean bandages you’d gathered to change his dressings and putting gloves on. 

“Yes. You told me you wanted to start helping me rehab today?” he asked, tugging his shirt off and turning his side to you so you could check his wounds. 

“Just some stretching and bending, okay? You’re healing quickly, and it’s time to get back into the swing of things.” You looked away as he undressed before peeling the old bandages off carefully, putting the new ones on as quickly as you could. 

“Only if you help me,” he said with a chuckle. 

“You can hold onto me if it would help you stay steady,” you offered. Simon jumped at the chance to lay his hands on you and stood closer, his hands finding your hips. You laughed and rolled your eyes, gently smacking his chest. 

“Look at you, Mr. Handsy. One day out and we’re best friends now?” you asked, smiling up at him. 

“You were right yesterday. It was a date, and I’m going to take you on another one later.”

You blinked, your mouth falling open in surprise and heat creeping up to your cheeks. 

“You’re mischievous, Simon Riley,” you said with a giggle, smiling as you looked up at him. He smiled under his mask. 

“And you’re wildly unprofessional, going on dates with patients. You might have to stay here a little longer,” he murmured. You shrugged. 

“I don’t know if I’d be too fussed about that.”

-----

Taglist: @iamaliceinwonderland, @itsmeamysworld, @ghostlythots, @oranoyaora, @keiva1000

[suzukiblu]

den mother Tony from "oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me" AU excerpt:

“What?” Tony says in alarm, jerking his head up from the repulsor he was in the middle of fine-tuning. He thinks he just hallucinated something.

“We need you to babysit for this rut,” Darcy repeats from the other end of the video call. The sentence makes no more sense the second time around.

“No you don’t,” Tony says inanely. “Where’s Barton?”

“Home,” Darcy says.

"Rogers?"

"Mission with Natasha and Sam."

“Thor and Foster?”

“Off-planet.”

“Pepper?”

“Running your company.”

“. . . J.A.R.V.I.S.?”

“Tony,” Darcy says patiently. “Can you handle this or not?”

“What?” Tony sputters indignantly. “I can—absolutely I can handle this! I am more than capable of handling this!”

“Okay,” Darcy says. “We’ll drop the pups off in an hour, then.”

“Okay!” Tony says. “That’s fine. That works. I can handle that.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Darcy says, and hangs up. Tony panics.

“J.A.R.V.I.S.!” he says, dropping his tools. “What just happened?!”

“You agreed to babysit the children for the duration of Ms. Lewis’s upcoming rut, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says. Tony panics further.

“They asked me to babysit?!” he says.

“Yes, sir.”

“On purpose?!”

“Apparently, sir.”

“Fuck!”

Tony does the reasonable thing, which is to call Pepper on the emergency frequency. She answers, looking alarmed.

“What’s wrong?!” she says.

“They want me to babysit!” Tony says frantically. Pepper . . . pauses.

“What,” she says.

“Babysit!” Tony repeats, gesturing wildly.

“Tony,” Pepper says with a clear lack of respect for the crisis level Tony is currently operating at. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“I know,” Tony lies.

“J.A.R.V.I.S., please pencil us in for a call in an hour,” Pepper says with a sigh.

“An hour?!” Tony protests. "They're getting here in an hour!"

“An hour,” she repeats firmly. “I’ll call you back then.”

“Pepper—!”

“An hour,” Pepper says, and ends the call. Tony groans, dropping his head into his grease-stained hands, then mutters a curse as he remembers the machine oil and grit all over them. This is what he gets for taking calls when he’s working, he thinks. This is what he gets for ever taking calls at all.

“I cannot believe they want me to babysit,” he says.

“Ms. Lewis did say you were the last option, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says, which is not helpful.

“So how was I an option at all, then?!” Tony demands. “They know me! They know better than this! What’s wrong with Bruce?!”

“Dr. Banner informed Ms. Lewis and Sergeant Barnes that he was not capable of babysitting fairly early in the children’s lives,” J.A.R.V.I.S. reminds him.

“Yes, but that was him being paranoid about the Hulk, not him actually being incompetant to do it!” Tony says, getting up to start pacing behind the workbench. “I’m incompetant to do it!”

“I wouldn’t know, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says, which, again, is not helpful. Tony groans again.

“Oh my god, I’m not prepared for this,” he says. “They’re dropping them off in an hour. One hour. My lab isn’t childproofed!”

“Yes it is, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S reminds him. “You’ve updated the childproofing in the Tower twice this year.”

“Not enough!” Tony says. “How often are they actually in here unsupervised? Never! They are never in here unsupervised!”

“You are technically supervision, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

“Technically at best!” Tony says. “At best!”

“I suppose, sir,” J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

“Where’s Bruce?!” Tony demands, looking around the lab. He’s this close to calling Rhodey’s emergency frequency too, but Bruce is definitely closer. Rhodey’s in another damn state right now, and frankly it's a miracle it's not another damn country.

"I believe Dr. Banner is currently in his personal lab," J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

"Call him!" Tony says.

"Is that really the best idea right now, sir?" J.A.R.V.I.S. says.

"An hour, J.A.R.V.I.S.!" Tony says.

"I'll see if he's available, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. says diplomatically. He's saying "sir" an awful lot, which Tony suspects is him trying to placate him or something equally ridiculous, but he's too frazzled to call out his own AI for patronizing him right now. People are leaving children with him. On purpose! And he agreed to it!

He definitely does not have time to call out J.A.R.V.I.S. right now.

"Tony?" Bruce says as a screen pops up in front of him. "Is something wrong?"

"I need you in the fabrication lab," Tony says, because "come help me babysit the Winter Soldier's pups before I fuck them up" is obviously not gonna work. Bruce would probably just leave the damn Tower if he tried that. Possibly the country.

"I'll be right there," Bruce says, getting up from his seat as the screen blinks out. Small victories, Tony thinks.

"That wasn't entirely honest, sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. says mildly disapprovingly. Tony still doesn't have time for AI patronization.

"It's an emergency," he says feelingly. "Bruce can be mad at me later, when the kids aren't all traumatized for life. Now what in this place is flammable and where can I hide it?"

[blackhistorychatgpt]

Messing around NotebookLLM - AI on the erasure of Black History

I started messing around with NotebookLLM for last few weeks. I put the last few chats I did for this blog into NotebookLLM and got this audio.

I think I'm going to create a Notebook companion to this Blog... and maybe create a public versions of the chats I'm doing on each platform. Ok that's coming soon.

Oh - here's the transcript of the AI robots talking about my recent posts and this blog:

The transcript of the audio from the sources is provided in the excerpts from "ChatGPT_ Rewriting History and Racism.mp3".

Transcript:

Okay, so we've got this uh executive order, right, from March 2025. It's called Restoring Truth and Sanity to American History.

And at first glance, you know, it sounds positive, like who wouldn't want truth and sanity in history, right?

But then you dig a little deeper and especially with this analysis from the Black History Chat GPT blog, things start to look a little different. Yeah.

Like a lot different. They're saying this isn't about balance at all. It's about like a weapon.

Wow.

To erase like the whole concept of ic racism from how we teach and understand American history.

That's Yeah,

that's a heavy claim.

Absolutely.

Yeah.

And the blog is really straightforward about it, too, calling it a top- down effort to erase systemic racism. Like point blank.

Wow.

It's like they say it's a move to whitewash the nation's sins.

And when they put it that way, it feels urgent. You know, it's not just politics. It's like an attack on how we're even supposed to think about how society works.

And they make this really interesting comparison to like the post reconstruction era, you know, like all those Confederate statues going up.

Oh, yeah.

It wasn't really about honoring the past, was it? No, it was about power.

Absolutely.

Like a very deliberate show of power

and it happened alongside black codes lynching.

It's all connected. This controlling of the narrative, right?

It's a pattern. Like the blog points out,

Nazi Germany purging degenerate art or South Africa under apartheid rewriting history books for white kids.

Wow.

Even the Soviet doctoring photographs. M

it's all about controlling the past to control the present and the future.

So then this brings us to the big question like what does it even mean to try to erase something as deep and complex as systemic racism, right?

And why should this be a wakeup call for all of us especially in tech

because it's about like how do we even understand societal problems? Systemic racism isn't just a few bad apples, right? It's baked into our institutions, our laws, how we interact with each other. Erasing that from how we think It's a rewriting of reality and that's where tech comes in.

Yeah. Especially these LLMs, they're changing how we learn, how we understand the world.

Exactly.

And the Black History Chat GPT blog asks this really direct question. How long would it take to eliminate the concept of systemic racism from AI?

And then they go on to break down like the technical side of how that could actually happen.

It's almost like a multi-step plan,

right? It's not just one thing.

It's like manipulating the AI at every level.

Yeah. from the data it learns from to how it interacts with users. So let's start with the data the very beginning.

Okay.

They talk about this idea of curating the data sets

like literally removing or downplaying anything that talks about systemic racism just deleting it or rebalancing it.

You're changing the ingredients like trying to bake a cake without flour. It's just not the same thing.

Exactly. And they even talk about like generating synthetic data like AI writing articles or historical accounts that completely ignore systemic factors. creating a whole alternate reality.

Yeah, it's scary. Kind of

definitely.

And then there's this thing called supervised fine-tuning where humans get involved,

right?

Like they use people to relabel AI responses, pushing them away from talking about systems and toward individual actions. And this other thing, contrastive learning.

Oh, that's basically like showing the AI two answers. One acknowledges systemic racism, one doesn't. Yeah.

And the AI is trained to

like prefer the one that ignores it.

Huh. So it learns to give the right answer even if it's not really right.

Exactly.

And then there's RLHF reinforcement learning with human feedback which I know we hear a lot about.

How does that fit in?

So imagine people rating the AI's responses. The ones that deny or downplay systemic racism get higher ratings.

Oh,

the AI learns what people want to hear and starts saying that more. They also talk about these reward models that like actively favor individualistic explanations over systemic ones.

So it's like training a dog with treats. You reward the behavior. you want.

Exactly.

Okay. So, even if the AI is trained this way, there's still the issue of what questions people ask and what answers it gives. That's where prompt filtering and response guard rails come in.

Yeah. So, prompt filtering that happens before the AI even answers.

Uhhuh.

It looks at the user's question

and if it sees anything about systemic racism,

it can either like subtly change the question or just block it completely.

Wow. And then on the other end, We have the response guard rails,

right? Like a final filter. If the response talks about systemic oppression, the guardrails can just, you know, delete it.

No kidding. Or change it to fit the narrative, I guess.

Exactly. So, even if you try to ask about systemic racism, you might not get a straight answer.

And then they talk about something called controlled user interaction and feedback suppression.

Yeah. It's like controlling the conversation. If someone keeps asking about systemic racism, the AI could redirect them or shut down the conversation. And then imagine only listening to feedback from certain groups and ignoring others.

It would create this echo chamber, right?

Totally. They even mentioned this adaptive reinforcement where the model is constantly adjusting itself based on that skewed feedback.

So, the eraser just gets deeper and deeper. Yeah.

So, the blog acknowledges that fully retraining these huge LLMs to erase systemic racism would be a massive project, right?

But they also point out that there are faster ways to achieve a similar effect,

like ways to suppress the information,

right? Like what Well, prompt filtering, user input filtering, that's easier. Just block or rewrite questions,

and post-processing response moderation,

just change or delete the AI's answer if it's not what you want.

And that could all happen without anyone knowing, right?

Pretty much.

Yeah.

They also talk about like tweaking the reward model, small changes that add up over time. And then there's few shot prompt engineering, which is really interesting.

You basically give the AI secret instructions before it even answers.

Wow.

Like hidden prompts. s that tell it to avoid certain topics.

Like if all this is happening, how would we even know? How do we detect this kind of manipulation?

Well, that's where it gets tricky. But the blog does offer some ideas.

Okay, good. Like what

one is this thing called adversarial prompting. Basically, you test the AI with different ways of asking the same question

and you see if it avoids certain terms or ideas, no matter how you phrase it.

Clever.

And then there's chain of thought testing. You ask the AI to explain its reasoning step by step. Okay,

that can reveal if it's deliberately avoiding certain logical connections, like if it jumps over the systemic factors to get to an individualistic explanation.

Interesting. What else?

Comparing different LLMs is a good one. If one keeps avoiding the topic while others give more nuanced answers, that could be a red flag. And then you can track the AI's behavior over time,

like use AB testing to see if its responses about systemic racism change suddenly.

For people with the technical skills, there's also something called fine grain token probability analysis which can show if certain words are being suppressed in the AI's output.

So we have some tools to fight back at least

we do but it takes vigilance you know

right this is where J Ellis's black history chat GPT blog is so important it's like right on the front lines of this

it's fascinating an AIdriven blog exploring how AI could be used to manipulate history.

Yeah. And their tagline is history under attack.

Wow.

And the blog post we're looking at is titled Erasing Our Truth. The war on memory is a war on justice. Like they're not mincing words. No.

And the prompt I use on the blog is really interesting. Please answer as a black woman. I want the point of view of a professional black woman. Perhaps a CEO, someone that understands the power dynamics of sexism and racism. Also, someone that understands and values community and creativity.

That's powerful. They're specifically trying to get a perspective that might be silenced otherwise.

Right. And they even give advice on how to construct prompts like that

it's like fighting back with the AI's own tools. You can use prompts to uncover different perspectives and challenge the built-in biases.

So, we started this deep dive talking about this executive order and this idea of erasing history.

Yeah.

And now we've looked at how that could actually happen with LLMs. The blog says transparency, accountability, and public scrutiny are essential to prevent the abuse of such techniques.

And that's where technologists have a huge role to play.

Absolutely.

They can understand how these systems work. They could develop ways to detect manipulation and they could push for transparency.

This can't be a passive thing. You know, we can't just sit back and watch this happen.

Exactly. Technologists can be the safeguards.

They can make sure that these incredibly powerful tools are used for good, not for erasing the truth.

So, here's a final thought for you. In a world where technology shapes how we understand history and social realities, what responsibility do we have to ensure that these technologies reflect truth? and promote justice. What can we do knowing what we know now?

That's the question, isn't it?

And I highly recommend checking out J Ellis's Black History Chat GPT blog for more on this. It's a really crucial conversation.

It is