#advanced super computer

[formless-entity]

griva selfies

[mattdevil]

He tried asking directly.

[mast3r-rainb0w]

[C] 'MY' Style: Bowser Barges in on Akuto [OC] by Mast3r-Rainb0w

A commission I made for a client via DeviantArt. I think we all can take a wild guess what that guy is doing on the computer... Anyways, enjoy the artwork!

[brandwhorestarscream]

Super outta my lane but I just binged all of Dr. Stone in like 3 days and now all I can think of is Senku unknowingly being an alien and finding his biological family on the moon, responsible for the petrification of the entire planet. Ultimate drama

[ohnoitsz1m]

I am not impressed by or even particularly interested in realistic graphics in games keep that shit away from me. Make something stylistically impressive. Make something I couldn’t see by going outside or googling pictures. Making something that creates an emotional reaction.

[gearlycorvid]

Hey babygirl... Come here often

[sonknuxadow]

was going to try to make progress in one of my many sonic games i havent finished today but then i remembered the wii still isnt set up to work on the new tv and im too lazy to do anything about it. so i guess i will just die

[hyper-lynx]

The shitty part IMO is that the tech itself, like ignoring what it does for just a moment, is really cool! Like, what do you mean we can do some matrix multiplication to make a robot talk?? In coherent sentences??? That's really impressive technology -- it is! It's just...

People have been trying to make computers that can do this kinda stuff since the 80s, trying so many different arrangements of master systems or neural networks, and it turns out all you really needed was the right structure, all text on the Internet, a special technique for training, and tons of people working invisibly for little pay to fine-tune the model.

So it's super frustrating that we're using this new trick in such frivolous and/or terrible ways. It's really annoying that we're just using LLMs to advance late stage capitalism, lay off office workers, rip off artists, add marginally useful chat bots to every piece of software that use way more power then their output it worth, and sell more laptops. It's such a cynical outcome...

got a major pest problem this year actually

[themorningnewsinformer]

Adobe Launches Project Indigo: Free iPhone Camera App With Full Manual Controls

Introduction Adobe has officially introduced adobe project indigo, a brand-new camera app for iPhone users that brings full manual camera controls, AI-powered computational photography, and super-resolution technology. Building on its expanding mobile portfolio that already includes popular apps like Firefly and Photoshop, Adobe aims to redefine smartphone photography with a focus on capturing…

[biblenewsprophecy]

[semisolidmind]

(trying to get my momentum back by drawing prompts and backlogged asks, the prompts for this one were: computer, health and well-being, and an olive/cream/brown color scheme)

this one gave me an idea about an advanced super computer built at a university by students, and he falls in love with the one put in charge of testing his "human interaction and caretaking" protocol. they're a bit apprehensive, obviously.

if the computer can learn to see humans as "good," and meant to be cared for," hopefully he won't go against his programming and try to exterminate them (like many of the university's prototypes). however, he seems to only care for one human in particular...

[demonic0angel]

can we connect the 'Duke gave Jason Jazz's number' ask with the ask of 'Babs being Jazz and Danny's sister'?

(Sure :3)

Jason gets Jazz's number, Babs is their sister

When Duke walked into the Clocktower, he paused in place at seeing the people on her screen.

"Uh. Babs? What's that?"

Barbara turned and blinked tired, exhausted eyes. She had spent several sleepless nights just researching everything she could find on her siblings.

She was so, so proud of them, especially because Danny was going to school to be an astronaut and Jazz had already graduated, currently working within Arkham Asylum as a fair and hard working psychiatrist.

"This? It's nothing," she said absentmindedly. Like hell she was going to let any of the vigilantes she knew linger around or pester her darling siblings!

"... that's a picture of Jazz Fenton."

Barbara blinked. "You know her?"

"Yeah, sometimes Jazz volunteers at Gotham University to tutor people. She helps me with my anatomy classes," Duke explained.

A first witness account about her siblings from someone she knew!

"Tell me more," Barbara said eagerly.

Duke crossed his arms. "Tell me why you're looking into her."

Barbara sighed deeply. Then she said, "We're half siblings. I found out that she and my half-brother are in Gotham so I just wanted to learn more about them. I never met them before because my biological mom left when I was young."

Duke's eyebrows rose. Then he said, "Huh. Well, alright. Jazz is really nice. She explains things really well and she's also really patient. Everyone wants her to tutor them, but she's pretty busy so you have to schedule her in advance sometimes. I have her number, so I usually get tutored by her often. She also talks a lot? But she's super nice!"

Barbara nodded. She had hacked into several places and had already figured out most of her sibling's personality traits.

Jazz was an overachiever, eager to please, helpful, chatty, and a bit of a know it all. Danny, meanwhile, was a bit antisocial, but very kind, thoughtful, clever, and quick to help others.

Had she mentioned that she was very proud of them? She wanted desperately to meet them in person one day.

Duke then continued with a small laugh, "Y'know, if nothing else happens, I think you'll see your siblings again. Maybe even as in-laws! Jazz gave Jason her number the other day and he's been super eager to ask her out."

All time seemed to freeze. It was like a record scratch that turned off the music.

Barbara stared at him. "Excuse me?"

Even if Duke wasn't a meta that could predict the future, he could already feel the danger.

"Uh."

".... did you just say that Jason is trying to ask out my adorable little sister? Jason? Jason who once killed 8 people and put their decapitated heads in a duffel bag? Jason who lives in a trashy apartment because he's too busy committing crime to clean it? Jason who forgets to shower sometimes because he gets lazy?"

"............ yes?" Duke sounded afraid.

Barbara turned around to her computer again, bringing up more files. This time, they were named after Jason and Red Hood.

"Leave. You didn't see anything here."

Duke immediately bowed. "Yes, ma'am. Please spare me."

"You'll live only because you can tell me more about Jazz."

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Then he scrambled out of the Clocktower. RIP Jason. You will be missed.

[vinnyvamppp]

Hey love you are a great writer so much so i had to request you to write a fic This story idea is super toxic This would never be a real scenario But I'm twisted so here's how it goes sinister mark or whom ever you choose is trying to study and girlfriend is just trying to get his attention kissing him, loving on him taking pictures with him and his snaps and accidentally hit her. He doesn't think that she will fight back though turning into this toxic love hate f$ck

You would be doing a great service (to me mostly😩)

Attention Hungry

NOTE: The person requested and the people have agreed! Typing this on my phone in staples while they fix my computer made me lose brain cells. Sorry in advance! Didn’t stray too far from the request. @nefertiti2003

Warnings: Rough Sex, Accidental Assault, Mild Choking, Mutual Orgasm, Hate Fucking, Power Imbalance, Pussy Eating, Dom!Invincible Variant, Power Bottom!Reader, Biting, Dom/Sub Dynamics, Love/Hate Relationship, Porn w a Plot, etc.

Sinister!Mark x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,072

Mark is at his desk, the glow of his tablet screen reflecting against the sharp angles of his face. His brows are furrowed in concentration, scanning lines of text faster than any normal person could. The lamp above casts long shadows, stretching across his strong frame, making him look even more unapproachable than usual. You should know better than to bother him when he’s like this, when he’s focused and distant.

But you never listen.

You step behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, pressing your chest against his back. His body is warm—too warm almost, like a furnace barely contained beneath his skin. A normal person would melt under the heat of him. You just take it as an invitation. “Mark,” you murmur against his ear, letting your lips brush against the skin just below it. He doesn’t react. Not at first.

You tighten your arms, fingers splaying over the solid muscle of his chest. “You’ve been sitting here forever.” Your tone sing-songy. Nothing.

You try again, trailing your fingers up his neck, into his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. His jaw tenses, slight progress, a smirk tugging at your lips. “You’re really gonna ignore me?” STILL nothing.

Alright then.

You grab his phone from the desk and spin away before he can snatch it back. “Smile,” you tease, pointing the camera at him. He doesn’t even glance up, still reading, as if you’re nothing but background noise. So you step closer, angling yourself into the shot, pressing against his arm. Click. The flash goes off, illuminating his sharp features, and his unreadable eyes. Blinding you in the process. That gets his attention.

It happens fast, too fast to catch.

A blur of movement, his hand shoots out. A hard impact wallops across your face, your head jerks to the side. The sharp sting spreads across your cheek before you even register what happened. For a second, everything stops. Your breath catches and your heart slams against your ribs. Mark’s hand hovers in the air where your face used to be, fingers still curled slightly from the slap.

You gasp. He blinks.

Then he exhales sharply through his nose, something unreadable flashing behind those crimson-tinted eyes. A mistake? No, he doesn’t make those. His mouth parts like he’s about to say something, but you don’t give him the chance.

Your hand flies before you even think about it, striking him across the face just as fast. The crack of skin-on-skin reverberates through the room. His head barely moves. Your palm burns from the impact. It didn’t hurt, but he felt it. He shouldn’t have felt it, that means he was getting weak, it meant he had to show who was stronger, better in every way. And he would.

Slowly—and I mean eerily slow—Mark turns his head back toward you. His tongue swipes over his lip, testing for blood before grinning. “Really?” His voice is low and amused, almost unfamiliar. Your heart pounds, but you don’t step back, you can’t. The air between you is electric, suffocating, and dangerous. His fingers flex, then relax. His eyes roam over you, slow and deliberate. He shifts in his chair, the movement lazy—like a predator just now deciding whether the thing in front of him is prey or something worth playing with first.

With one hand, he grabs your wrist, yanking you down onto his lap. "Now you have my attention."

He seemed amused, if anything.

With a short huff, your wrist curled against his firm grip, yanking with all your might. Nothing. His fingers barely budged, the strength in his hold effortless, as if he wasn’t even trying to restrain you, just reminding you that he could. Your jaw clenched, brows furrowed as you gritted. “Let go.” Mark tilted his head, eyes glinting under the dim light. “Why?”

Your skin burned where he touched you. Not from pain but from frustration, from the way he always did this. Letting you squirm, watching you fight, like you were nothing but a passing entertainment. Like you didn’t even matter. “You don’t even care,” you snapped, struggling again. “I don’t know why I—” He cut you off with a low chuckle. “Why you what?” His grip loosened, but only enough for his fingers to slide down your forearm, keeping you anchored in place. “Keep coming back? Keep trying to get my attention?”

Your breath hitched, but you covered it up with a scowl. “You never bother with me, Mark.” Something flickered in his expression, brief, perhaps sympathetic, but it was gone. “You’re always off somewhere else,” you continued, voice sharper now. “Thinking, planning, doing whatever the hell you do. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me, unless I force you to. Like I’m a distraction.”

Mark sighed, as if this entire conversation was beneath him. “You are a distraction.” The words stung more than you wanted to admit. Your nails dug into his wrist. “Then why the hell are you still holding onto me?” His fingers flexed around your arm. A quiet, drawn-out moment passed before he leaned in, just slightly, breath warm against your skin. “Because,” he murmured, “you’re not boring.”

Your stomach twisted. You hated the way your body reacted to him—to this. With a sharp inhale, you pushed against his chest. “I should leave.” Mark didn’t stop you nor did he tighten his grip. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms dropping to his sides, leaving you free, daring you. His eyes met yours, calm and all knowing. God, you hated that look. “Then do it.” The room felt smaller, like the walls were closing in. Your muscles tensed under his gaze as he watched and waited.

Seconds passed, your heart still pounding. You should leave. You should turn around, walk out the door, and never look back. But you didn’t move. Mark smirked. “That’s what I thought.” Your fingers curled into fists. “I hate you.”

“Yeah?” He tilted his head, dragging his gaze over you, less restrained this time, more sensual. “Funny. I hate you too.” Your chest rose and fell, breath shaky with something you refused to name. “Then let me go.” He exhaled through his nose, almost like a laugh, before reaching out. His fingers traced your jaw gently before gripping your chin, the sudden tightening causing you to go taut, forcing you to look at him. “I don’t think you want that,” he said, voice dropping an octave. “And I know I don’t.”

And just like that, you were pulled right back into his orbit.

You moved first, tilting your chin up, daring him, challenging him. His lips met yours in an instant, not gentle, not sweet but hungry. It was all heat and dominance, a battle for control that neither of you wanted to lose. His hand slid lower, fingers pressing into your skin, grounding you against him. Every touch, every movement was controlled, always meant to remind you exactly who he was—who you were dealing with.

He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "Still think you hate me?" You exhaled shakily. "More than ever." Mark’s grin was sharp, almost cocky. "Good."

He stood up abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor behind him. With a firm grip on your hips, he lifted you effortlessly, tossing you over his shoulder like a ragdoll. You yelped in surprise, the breath momentarily knocked out of you. You managed to gasp out as he carried you across the room, his footsteps echoing off the walls. He ignored your weak protested mumbles, his hand resting heavily on your ass as if to remind you of his dominance.

The bedsprings creaked as he threw you down onto the mattress, your body bouncing from the impact. You barely had a moment to catch your breath before he was on top of you, his weight pinning you down. Your hands scrabbled at his chest, but he easily overpowered you, gripping your wrists and shoving them above your head.

His other hand found your throat, fingers curling around your slender neck. He applied just enough pressure to make you gasp, to remind you who was in control. His red eyes bore into yours, gleaming with a dark, feral hunger.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Fuck, yes. Now give it to me." He released your wrists, only to grab the collar of your shirt. With a sharp tug, he tore the fabric open, sending buttons flying across the room. Your breasts bounced free, the cool air pebbling your nipples.

He wasted no time, ducking his head to inhale your sweet scent as his tongue teased your collarbones. He sucked hard, his teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh, sending jolts of pain and pleasure straight to your core. His hand roughly traced the curves of your figure, squeezing what he could. You arched into him, a moan escaping your lips. But he was already moving, trailing kisses down your stomach, pausing to flick his tongue against your navel. Lower and lower he went until his face was nestled between your thighs.

He breathed hotly against your core, the damp fabric of your panties the only barrier between you. With a low growl, he tugged them aside, exposing you to his hungry gaze. Without warning, he licked a long stripe up your slit, from entrance to clit, the wet heat of his tongue making you shudder. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him closer, silently begging for more. He obliged, sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard. At the same time, he slid two fingers into your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out, giving you little time to adjust.

Your hips bucked against his face, fucking yourself on his tongue and fingers. But he didn't let up, his grip on your thighs holding you in place as he feasted on your pussy like a starving man. "Jesus, Mark," you gasped, your head thrown back in ecstasy. "Don't. Fucking. Stop..."

You doomed yourself, his eyes meeting yours

But just as you were about to tumble over the edge, he delivered a harsh teething and pulled away, leaving you empty and aching. You groaned at the loss, but it was quickly silenced as he covered your mouth with his, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue.

You could feel his cock, hard and throbbing, pressing against your thigh. He ground against you, seeking friction, and you knew he was just as desperate as you were. With a snarl, he grabbed your hips and flipped you over onto your stomach. He yanked your hips up, positioning you on your hands and knees. You barely had time to steady yourself before he was inside you, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust.

You cried out at the sudden invasion, your walls stretching around his thick length. But he didn't give you time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that had the headboard slamming against the wall. Each thrust was harder than the last, his hips slapping against your ass as he pounded into you. The obscene sound of skin on skin filled the room, mixing with your muffled moans and his grunts of pleasure.

His hand found your hair, fisting the strands and pulling your head back. He leaned over you, his chest pressed against your back, his breath hot against your ear. Both of too far gone in the haze of pleasure to form coherent words. He seemed to take that as a yes, his thrusts becoming even more brutal.

You felt the pressure building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each snap of his hips. Your legs began to tremble, your arms threatening to give out beneath you. "Come for me," he demanded, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive nub. "Let me feel you come all over my cock." This time coming as a more of a plea.

And with that final command, you shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your walls clamped down around him, fluttering and squeezing as wave after wave of ecstasy washed through you. Behind you, Mark let out a guttural moan, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge. He buried himself deep one last time, spilling his release inside you with a shuddering groan.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, both struggling to catch your breath. Finally, Mark slipped out of you, rolling onto his back and taking you with him. “We’re… not done yet, you fuck.” You sneered, and he obliged with a toothy grin. The tip of his cock rubbed gingerly against your lips as he parted the soft flesh. This is so dramatically written LMFAO.

MasterList ོ༘₊⁺☀︎₊⁺⋆.˚

[revelboo]

REVELLLLLLLL DROP ANOTHER MEGATRONUS FIC AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRRSSSSSS

honestly I’m such a big fan of your writing I’ve searched and searched for megatronus fics for so long and I have never found one but I checked your acc and I’ve never been so happy before like I’m addicted to your writing a lot of the time I look for transformers fanfics but I’ve never really liked them as much as yours and you also inspired me to start collecting transformers figures so I’m gonna start sooner or later cause things are expensive these days sadly 😔🤞🏽 but I don’t wanna start yapping so I’m gonna end it off here by revel have a beautiful weekend and week😋

I’m glad you like my nonsense! The figures are pretty fun to collect

Give It Up Pt 3

Megatronus Prime x Reader

• Venting in frustration when you swat his servos, chirping angrily, he just needs to see the little display on your arm long enough to figure out if he can pull your language from it. Something you’re absolutely not having. Studying your little suit more closely, he frowns. Maybe you’re breathing some exotic gas and need the suit to survive? “I don’t need your entire suit,” he says, holding a palm over his own arm and miming flipping up an invisible screen like you just did . Wishes he could get a better look at you, because your features are just an indistinct shadow through the tinted helmet. Staring up at him, you lay your own palm on your display and chirp softly. “On my honor, I’ll return your tech to you.”

• Grumbling, his awful language, he repeats the gesture. Why does he want your display? While you can detach it, you’re not sure you should. Though you doubt the super advanced living robot is the least bit interested in your tech. It’s probably the equivalent of a DOS computer to you. Or maybe a telegram. He’s defiantly not stealing secrets from it. And he’s not hurt you so far. Shook you until you nearly hurled, but you don’t think he was trying to harm you. If you’re trapped who knows where, you’re going to need someone to trust. You really hope that’s him.

• Chirping unhappily, you mess with the display until it detaches and hold the tiny thing out. And it’s such a shock that you’re willing to trust him. Extending a servo, he waits while you look at the display then at him before laying it on his servo. “Thank you, little one.” Lifting it, he squints at the tiny thing and shifts it to his datapad to try to sync the primitive technology. “You’re being very brave.”

• You really hope your GPS isn’t in the display. Really wish you’d paid more attention when the tech guys were explaining the minutiae of the suits instead of being terrified of what you were going to find on the other side of the portal. Giant, alien robots definitely hadn’t been on your bingo card, though. What can he even get off the thing, really? Nothing dangerous. Probably? Like coordinates to your world? “Please don’t be an evil, giant robot.”

• Waiting for the datapad to compile and create a language file for him, he studies you. Wonders what organics eat and how exactly you’d wound up on Cybertron. A peaceful explorer? You don’t seem to have any weapons. Can’t understand the language. And you’re so tiny as to be helpless. Probably not a warring species. Certainly don’t look at all intimidating in your puffy little suit. Moving closer, you rock up on tiptoe to try and see his datapad and chirp at him. Pointing with a finger and you’re just so adorable. “I’m going to give it back,” he reassures you, smiling behind his mask. Definitely not a warring species. You’re much too cute to be dangerous.

Previous

Next

[rockdrop]

Why, of course I'm still around! I'm not that easy to get rid of. To the second point; nah it's not in a notes app for the most part. I write some things down in advance, but for the most part it just comes right out of the ol' brain into the askbox. Unless I'm writing it as a fic, that is.

Recently, I've also been thinking about kanamafu and glasses. Based on Mafuyu's one trained card, I do think she has reading glasses, though she doesn't wear them super frequently. She doesn't need them, it just makes things a bit easier.

Kanade does not wear glasses. Kanade SHOULD be wearing glasses. (inspired by me getting an area conversation of Kanade going "I don't see anybody today" in the empty SEKAI with Meiko, Luka, and Mizuki literally right there with her)

Kanade's incredibly nearsighted, but also incredibly stubborn on the issue. She's always sitting right up next to her computer so it's fine, she doesn't need glasses, she's been doing just okay without them for years. Mafuyu, after living with her for about a day: "you need glasses." - K

g-glasses!??! KANAGLASSES??😳

[knightsndaze]

As I'm writing I've realized how bad the dialogue is in FO4. Like it takes exposition and bashes your skull in with it. It takes all the fun out of exploring the wasteland and putting things together through journals/computer entries/holotapes/etc.

There are glimpses of a compelling story hidden in the game but the factions are reskinned ripoffs of FNV (old world style govt/fascists/technologically advanced) where the political complexity of those factions clashing is completely pushed aside for another goddamn finding Nemo story.

The player characters were given back stories which COULD have had interesting implications (disregarding the supposed rpg elements of the fallout games) such as a soldier coming to terms with his actions in service and the effects the govt he fought for had on the world. Or a lawyer who had never dealt directly with the horrors of war suddenly being thrust into a world where she had to fight to survive. Like yeah it gets mentioned here and there but there's no emotional exploration bc Bethesda fucked themselves with player dialogue being yes/no/sarcastic/maybe(come back later)

The gunners, raiders, and super mutants are just shooting targets that have absolutely no effect on the story. The railroad is underdeveloped, the institute is cartoonish, the minutemen are radiant quest simulator 2000, and the brotherhood is just there so Bethesda can say look at the cool guys with power armor (don't worry about the fascistic undertones of their leadership that won't be addressed at all)

Diamond City doesn't feel like a city cowering in fear of the institute. It's like the writers were too afraid of going into the dark elements of the fallout story. Like they took the edge and whacked it against a cinder block until it was dull enough to market to 5 year olds. It's supposed to be gritty, it's supposed to be the darkest parts of humanity spread bare because that's where the hope comes from. It comes from persevering despite the world trying to beat you down. Because war never changes, but people do

Also I wanna be able to fuck Deacon