#automated diagnosis

[indianahal]

AI, stands for artificial intelligence computer systems,  that conduct tasks that historically required human intelligence to complete.  This includes recognizing human speech, making decisions, identifying patterns,  generating written content, steering a car or truck, and analyzing data.  A lot of people today are wondering if the benefits of AI are worth the resulting human job losses, production efficiencies, cost savings, etc.?  My new program, "Do We Really Want AI To Replace More Human Decision Making?"

[skanella]

Revolutionizing Education: AI-Powered Learning Solutions

AI-driven education solutions offer personalized learning experiences, automated feedback, and precise learning issue diagnosis. These tools empower schools and universities to enhance language acquisition with AI-powered pronunciation assessment and feedback, streamlining resource management and communication for an enriched educational environment.

[reasonsforhope]

"When bloodstream infections set in, fast treatment is crucial — but it can take several days to identify the bacteria responsible. A new, rapid-diagnosis sepsis test could cut down on the wait, reducing testing time from as much as a few days to about 13 hours by cutting out a lengthy blood culturing step, researchers report July 24 [2024] in Nature.

“They are pushing the limits of rapid diagnostics for bloodstream infections,” says Pak Kin Wong, a biomedical engineer at Penn State who was not involved in the research. “They are driving toward a direction that will dramatically improve the clinical management of bloodstream infections and sepsis.”

Sepsis — an immune system overreaction to an infection — is a life-threatening condition that strikes nearly 2 million people per year in the United States, killing more than 250,000 (SN: 5/18/08). The condition can also progress to septic shock, a steep drop in blood pressure that damages the kidneys, lungs, liver and other organs. It can be caused by a broad range of different bacteria, making species identification key for personalized treatment of each patient.

In conventional sepsis testing, the blood collected from the patient must first go through a daylong blood culturing step to grow more bacteria for detection. The sample then goes through a second culture for purification before undergoing testing to find the best treatment. During the two to three days required for testing, patients are placed on broad-spectrum antibiotics — a blunt tool designed to stave off a mystery infection that’s better treated by targeted antibiotics after figuring out the specific bacteria causing the infection.

Nanoengineer Tae Hyun Kim and colleagues found a way around the initial 24-hour blood culture.

The workaround starts by injecting a blood sample with nanoparticles decorated with a peptide designed to bind to a wide range of blood-borne pathogens. Magnets then pull out the nanoparticles, and the bound pathogens come with them. Those bacteria are sent directly to the pure culture. Thanks to this binding and sorting process, the bacteria can grow faster without extraneous components in the sample, like blood cells and the previously given broad-spectrum antibiotics, says Kim, of Seoul National University in South Korea.

Cutting out the initial blood culturing step also relies on a new imaging algorithm, Kim says. To test bacteria’s susceptibility to antibiotics, both are placed in the same environment, and scientists observe if and how the antibiotics stunt the bacteria’s growth or kill them. The team’s image detection algorithm can detect subtler changes than the human eye can. So it can identify the species and antibiotic susceptibility with far fewer bacteria cells than the conventional method, thereby reducing the need for long culture times to produce larger colonies.

Though the new method shows promise, Wong says, any new test carries a risk of false negatives, missing bacteria that are actually present in the bloodstream. That in turn can lead to not treating an active infection, and “undertreatment of bloodstream infection can be fatal,” he says. “While the classical blood culture technique is extremely slow, it is very effective in avoiding false negatives.”

Following their laboratory-based experiments, Kim and colleagues tested their new method clinically, running it in parallel with conventional sepsis testing on 190 hospital patients with suspected infections. The testing obtained a 100 percent match on correct bacterial species identification, the team reports. Though more clinical tests are needed, these accuracy results are encouraging so far, Kim says.

The team is continuing to refine their design in hopes of developing a fully automated sepsis blood test that can quickly produce results, even when hospital laboratories are closed overnight. “We really wanted to commercialize this and really make it happen so that we could make impacts to the patients,” Kim says."

-via Science News, July 24, 2024

[eupheme]

— the season for second third fourth chances

[part v of sugar, sugar] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 4.5k

tags: holiday fluff, reader references/celebrates christmas, misunderstandings, light angst, references to canon-typical anxiety, violence, wade's cancer diagnosis, and death, references plot events in DP 1 & 2, sexual innuendos/implied smut, feelings

With the holidays on the horizon, your afternoons are filled with preparations for Wade’s annual holiday party. With baking and cookie decorating, finishing up wrapping presents - and maybe even a little Christmas miracle, when you find yourself running into a familiar face.

"What?"

It slips from you, as your eyebrows shoot up - glancing down at the piece of cardstock. Before you're adding -

"Why?"

Wade huffs, his finger tapping against the text that loops across the top.

"Don't give me that, Sugar. I spent ages picking out the right font, I know the contrast is enough for you to read it clearly."

And he's right. You can definitely read it, even without the coarse coat of glitter making the headline sparkle.

‘Spread Some Christmas Cheer’

The letters arching above a photo of Wade. His suit on, of course, as he lounges across the lap of what appears to be a mall Santa. Dread in the man’s once-twinkling blue eyes, as one of Wade’s legs drapes across the velvet red suit, the other kicked high against the back of the padded red chair.

‘With Wade Wilson's Winter Wonderland’ in script beneath - with dates and time for his party listed below.

"I can definitely read it," You acknowledge, "I was just asking what, as in what made you take this, and maybe even where, because-"

"Oh," He chuckles, "Yeah, I'm absolutely banned from JCPenney, but worth it, right? This is my best-looking card yet."

You can't help the smile, "It's definitely something."

He grins, "So, you'll come? I heard there might be a certain someone there."

"Is that right?" Your tongue pokes against your cheek.

"Mhmm. Pretty sure he sees you when you're sleeping. Definitely know if you've been naughty or nice, and I know for a fact I've seen you in his lap-"

There's a sound of disgust, as your nose wrinkles, "Okay, can you not talk about Logan that way? I don't need a Santa comparison in my head."

"Just thought I'd spice some things up for you. It's nothing to be ashamed of, we've all had a crush on the big man."

"On who?" There's a rough voice behind you - Logan hand fisted around the fleece jacket tugged from the back of the armchair.

"He knows what I'm talking about," Wade points, "I'm just saying, if Santa needs help handling that sack of his, I'm so fucking down."

"Jesus fucking Christ." An arm curls around you, as Logan glances at the invite, "Wait, this is this weekend?"

"Yes, this weekend," Wade sniffs, "We talked about it yesterday."

"Wasn't home yesterday." Logan's eyebrow cocks, "Or the day before."

"Well, I talked about it with somebody." Wade shrugs - another tapped finger at the bottom of the card, "Anyways, blah, blah, blah. It’s all here, proper name, place name, backstory stuff... just be there, because I know where you live-"

"We'll be there." You interrupt, biting back your smile, "Want me to bring anything?"

Wade's look turns pleased, and then thoughtful, "Well, I was going to get some cookies from Yeastie Boys Bakery..."

The words trailing off, as you groan - already so over the new bakery in town, their stupid jingle and 'viral' cupcakes that taste like shit.

"Don't even talk to me about them."

You can feel the way Logan's hands brace on your shoulder. The low, "he's kidding sweetheart-" rumbled in your ear.

"Guilty." Wade's hands spread wide, "Was just trying to rile you up into offering some of your own splendid wares. Al still talks about the ones you brought over last year. If it’s not too much work…"

The sentence trails off, as he bats his brown, pleading, puppy-dog eyes at you.

"Lead with that next time, asshole." Logan sighs.

"It's not." You answer automatically, though you're already mentally running through your schedule.

The presents you still have to wrap. The loose ends of Wade's gift that you still have to weave in. Another trip to the grocery store, for certain - you'll have to bake at home, since it's a favor.

There's a kiss pressed to your temple, as Logan moves around you.

"I know that look. Don't push too hard, honey." He finishes shrugging on his jacket, "I’ll see if Laura and I can help you out tomorrow."

Wade's voice chiming in, “And let it be known I am formally offering to help, but-”

You huff, “Thank you, but you’re still banned from my kitchen, Wade.”

Still not over the surprise of your gingerbread appearing with piped anatomically correct additions, after you had left him unsupervised last year.

The kiss goodbye you share with Logan lingers, a grateful press of your mouth against his. Wondering what you did to deserve such a man, still ready to pinch yourself every day.

A look in his eyes that matches yours, as he steps around Wade, who still lingers.

"Thanks, Sugar." He grins, "And remember - you better be good for goodness sake-"

You groan, as you shove him out the door. Logan's fingers curling around the collar of Wade’s jacket, the other tugging at the handle.

Unable to help adding your usual farewell, “Be careful out there, okay? Come back safe.”

Not that they need it, not with their powers. But it still feels like a charm, tucked carefully into their pockets as they head out together again - off on a new mission.

"I’ll take care of your Sugar Bear.” It's sung out, muffled behind the closed door. “Love you byeee!"

A sigh, as you shake your head.

Guess you have some work to do.

Your pen marks another item off your list, as you inch your cart through the too-busy grocery store.

It’s already half-filled with other last-minute items. Another couple gifts, now that official date of the party looms on the horizon - you can’t leave Peter, Ellie, and Yukio out, after all.

A new decorative Christmas plate for the cookies - you had lost yours in the impromptu disc golf match that Wade hosted at the apartment last year.

Last you heard, it was still on the roof next door.

Molasses, brown sugar, and spices for gingerbread. A fresh box of food coloring, for the sugar cookies - you were out of red, from last year as well.

A pack of powdered sugar drops down into your cart. Reaching for a second, just as another hand bumps against yours.

Twin apologies chime, as your eyes flick to the side.

Instantly recognizing the woman next to you - the sheepish look on your face cooling.

“Oh.” Her eyes widen in recognition, “Hey.”

“Hi, Vanessa.” You offer a half-smile - the last dregs of your annoyance with Wade vanishing, as you rest the second bag on top of the other.

A beat, before you manage, “How are you?”

“Good. Office party,” She wiggles her own bag, before it slips into the basket at her elbow, “You?”

“Um, I’m good, too.” You shrug, “And no, uh… friend’s party.”

Wade seemed mostly over the disaster that happened close to two months ago. More prone to forgiving and forgetting - gracious, in a way that you could be, when you wanted. That you were, most of the time.

After all, it was easier, to let something slide off your back when it came to a personal grudge. You could be an adult and move on, then.

But it was still hard to forget how crushed Wade had been. How you knew that she knew he had been cooking for her the night she stood him up- a drunken confession that he had seen the notification that she had watched the stories he had snapped for his social media stories.

And even if he was over it, you weren’t sure you were.

“Wade’s party?” She guesses, and it makes you blink.

Wondering when and how she had been invited. As far as you knew, her name hadn’t passed his lips in weeks.

“Yeah.” Your eyes search hers - the tightness in them, how she bites the inside of her cheek, “Are… you?”

“Undecided,” Her lips lift. A breath, before she’s asking, “How’s he been lately? Is he…”

You can’t help the small frown, a mark deepening between your brows, “He’s good.”

A half-truth, before you tack a little more on, “Sure he’s appreciating the extra space. Fixed Al up with a Murphy bed, and Logan’s been staying with me a lot lately.”

“Oh. I thought-” Vanessa’s sentence trails off.

She looks lost for a moment. A glance downward, picking at the manicured edge of a nail.

You haven’t seen her like this before. Too used to her confidence, those sharp edges that you lack.

Pity flickers through you.

“I really have to go. If I don’t start these soon, I’ll be up all night.”

It comes out apologetic - and you realize, you actually mean it, “But why don’t you swing by my apartment in a bit? I’m gonna be baking all afternoon, but I make a mean boozy hot chocolate.”

The look she gives you is tinged with relief.

It’s enough to make you wonder what you’re missing.

“Wait, what?” You yelp - for the second time, in forty-eight hours.

There’s a smudge of flour on your sweater. Holiday music pouring through the speaker on your counter. Vanessa carefully inching the gingerbread cutouts an inch apart.

A shoulder lifting, as she repeats herself, “I said I thought he moved on. With you.”

Not knowing, with the way she had come late to the party where you had met Logan. Left early, with her new corporate schedule.

You almost over-pour the ground cinnamon into the second batch. Tipping it back into the jar, as you let the spoon clatter against the counter. Her head tilts, at your expression.

“You haven’t thought about it? I know you’re both close.”

In another world, perhaps.

Another life - one where you hadn’t met Logan when you did. Hadn’t spent months cheering Wade on, those once barely-there flickers of interest fading to something solidly platonic some time ago.

Your head shakes, the words coming slowly, “It’s always been you, Vanessa. Everyone knows that.”

The corner of her lips lift. Fingernails tapping against the aluminum pan.

“I thought so, too.”

You frown, “Is that why didn’t you show? When he asked you over for dinner?”

Vanessa laughs then, rueful.

“The dinner.” Her eyes flick away, going back to a memory - a beat, before the snap to yours, “Yeah. I wanted to go. I uh, just split with Dermot. From work.”

You nod, remembering - overhearing the conversation at Wade’s birthday.

“He wanted me to move in. Said he saw a future with me, but when it came down to taking that step…” Her lips press together, the lift of a shoulder, “I’ve never seen myself with anyone else. Only him.”

Only Wade.

“But… then I saw you with him. The stories he posted. The two of you cooking, dressed up like a date.” It comes in a rush, “I thought, incorrectly, apparently-”

“He was cooking for you.” There’s a furrow in your brow, trying to piece together the way she saw it.

The sundress you wore for Logan. The captions that tipped towards lewd that you had tried to get him to delete - jokes about “getting lucky”, or the chicken not the only thing “being stuffed tonight”.

She nods, “I’m getting that now.”

“I think you still should have gone.” It’s starting to make sense, but you can’t help the reproach in your tone, ”He was devastated.”

The look she shoots you is defensive. Vanessa had always carried an intensity you lacked, and you take the full brunt of it now. Your fingers curl into fists for strength, not letting your gaze drop first. A beat, before she nods.

“I guess it’s just become easier to run.” Vanessa admits, “Defense mechanism. Get out first. Ironic, I know.”

You frown, not knowing, “Has that… has that happened before?”

“Which time?” Her laugh is close to a scoff, as she sighs.

Your eyes drop now, as you go back to your work. Back to measuring, tipping the spices into your mixer. The words coming slowly.

”He hasn’t told me a lot. Just a bit about last time. About…” You search for the words, feeling guilty. “About him not doing enough. That you wanted him to do something meaningful, and then the stuff with the Avengers, and…”

The words die, when you see her face.

Sorrow and anger, with the sharp shake of her head, “I never gave a damn about the Avengers. That was all Wade.”

A sigh, as she collects herself.

“I just wanted him to find his passion again. He changed… a few years ago. Something happened, a really close call. He fixed it, but he wasn’t the same after.”

A breath, before she adding, “He took it hard. Guilt, I think. All I really wanted was for him to talk to me. To let me help him, but he never let me in because he didn’t want me getting hurt again. He shut down, and stopped talking to me.”

The mixer hums. A beep of your timer, as the minutes tick down.

“You know Wade. Always has a joke ready. Never wants to get serious if he can help it. It’s stupid, but we... drifted.” Vanessa’s throat bobs as she swallows, “I was dealing with my own shit, and when he pushed me away, it reminded me of last time.”

She catches your expression again, as the dough tips out of the bowl. The furrow of your brow, as you swap it for a chilled portion in your fridge.

“It’s been a recurring theme,” It comes out blunt.

Her look turning considering, then, when the frown doesn't waver.

“Do you love Logan?”

The rolling pin slips in your grip. Pressing too hard, denting dough.

“I-,” You breathe. The question unexpected, leaving you wholly unprepared, even as your heart beats out the answer.

Her expression softens, “You care about him.”

You nod mutely.

“What would you do, if Logan just - disappeared? No trace of him, just gone in the night?”

Her question hangs. A physical ache in your chest at the mere thought, one that leaves you unable to breathe. Pieces starting to click together - little bits of what you know, forming some sort of photo.

“Is that what Wade did?”

She nods, “It was right after his cancer diagnosis. He was going through a lot, and just - left. For years. I thought… I thought he had died. I mourned him. It crushed me.”

You can’t help but reach across the table - hesitant, in the way you squeeze her arm.

She lets you, a look shot your way. Defending him, unable to help it.

“I get it, though. I get that it was a lot. I’ve forgiven him. But…” Her teeth pinch at her cheek, that guilt coming back, “When he started pulling away, I thought it was happening again. I couldn’t live through that again.”

You finish for her, “So you left first.”

She nods.

Silence lingers. Nails tapping on the countertop, fiddling with the silver rings on her fingers. The heat of the oven curling across your arms, as you swap one tray for another. Setting it aside to cool.

“You should go talk to him.” Your voice cracks through the quiet, when you turn - hands bracing against the counter.

Her eyebrows raise, “And say what?”

”Tell him what you told me. That you were just scared.” Your voice softens, “He invited you to his party because he still *wants* you in his life.”

She blinks, silent.

“I’ll help you,” You coax, “Logan’s already coming over tonight.”

Your eyes flick down to your phone, checking, ”Uh, really soon, actually. I’ll go next door with you, and bring Althea back with me. Give you two some time to catch up.”

Vanessa’s fingers cards through her hair - pushing back the long strands, the words coming slowly, “I don’t know…”

“Wade is crazy about you.” It comes out bluntly, and it’s this that pulls her attention.

You’re already swiping a container off the counter. Filling the bottom with sugar cookies baked this morning - cut into trees and mittens, decorated with buttercream and sprinkles.

The lid snaps on, as you hold it out to her.

“Trust me?”

Her eyes meet yours, and you can see the swirl of emotions across her face.

You smile and finally - she nods.

She follows a step behind, as you leave the apartment. The hallway chilly, the entrance bringing in a dusting of snow across the carpet, with the revolving holiday traffic.

The closing front door downstairs echoes with your own, as you head the next apartment over. Knuckles rapping against the wood, fingers mentally crossed.

A voice ringing out, muffled, “If you’re part of Rudolph and the Red-Hot Reindeers, you’re a day early-”

Opening to reveal Wade, dressed down in a shirt and sweatpants with his Deadpool logo patterned across them.

“Oh, hey Sugar.” He smiles, “What’s up?”

“Well,” You stall for a second, trying to figure out what exactly to say, “Is Althea home? Was wondering if she could help me with something.”

Wade chuckles.

“Fat fucking chance, she’s two episodes into the Golden Bachelor right now and she’s sure as hell not moving-” The words die out as Vanessa moves into view, the container in hand.

He goes silent, for the first time you can remember.

“I have the same streaming apps as you, I’m sure I can convince her.” Your shift - a hand touching at her shoulder, urging her forward, “And maybe you could do me a favor, too. Taste test these for tomorrow?”

For a moment, you think he doesn’t hear you. His eyes lingering on Vanessa, his face bleeding from surprise to confusion to hope, as he takes her in.

“Yeah.” He manages after a long moment - clearing his throat.

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

It doesn’t take much convincing, not with the way Al enjoys a cup of piping hot tea as much as you do - along with the promise she can watch her beloved show in peace. Almost giddy in the way she makes for the door, cane in hand and Dogpool tucked in the crook of her other arm.

The door just shutting behind you before she’s hissing, “What in God’s name was that?”

You shush her, eyes flicking back towards the apartment. Almost jumping out of your skin when it’s followed by another voice, this one pitched low.

“Seconded. Busy afternoon?”

Logan leans against the wall, Laura expression clear with the pull of her brows. Thirded.

“Something like that.” You herd them inside your apartment, before they can be overheard - not that Wade was listening, you’re sure.

The door is barely shut, before they’re rounding on you. Your own hands on your hips - a nod directing them towards the kitchen table, laden with bare gingerbread cookies.

Al tucked in the armchair, spun around the face the bustle of the kitchen, her show long forgotten.

“You’re stalling.” Laura points out bluntly, as you hand her the bag of icing.

Your tongue tucked against your teeth, as you shoot Logan a look. His eyebrows raised in response, eyes sliding over to the brick wall that separates your apartment from Wade.

“I’m not,” The word strings out, “It’s just, like, it’s not a big deal, right?”

She scoffs.

Althea’s cane taps the ground, “Something happened, and you’d better spill.”

“Alright,” Your fingers spread in front of you, “I ran into Vanessa at the store today. And we got to talking, and I invited her back here. I think she regrets what happened between them.”

There’s a snort of derision, and you can feel yourself starting to bristle.

“We all have our opinions, myself included-” You allow, as another noise interrupts you - lower and more gruff this time. You spin, shooting Logan another look.

“But I think she was genuine. I’ve certainly had my fair share of… miscommunications,” His expressions softens at your words, the corner of his lips curling as you shift to face Al.

“And I got some really good advice once from someone. Something about ‘talking about it’, and that’s what I encouraged her to do.”

“Hope you’re right,” Al sighs- but there’s a smile there, hidden in the way her lips press together, “That boy is more sensitive than my left tit in a snowstorm.”

“Jesus.” It’s muttered, at your shoulder. Logan’s head shaking as he joins Laura, the hint of a smirk as she works on piping a set of angry eyebrows.

Your eyes roll, “I am.”

Spinning back to face the table, as you grab your own bag of frosting.

“After all, it’s Christmas,” You can’t help but throw her way, from over your shoulder.

“And isn’t that the best time for a miracle?”

Logan’s arms wrap around you later, as you snap the last lid in place. Finally done with your last-minute idea - decorating each of the gingerbread to look like your friends.

Laura slipping out a few minutes ago, intent on staying until the end. Just as determined as Logan to see things through, even though you tried to get her to leave a few times - worried about the weather, the long drive back to the mansion.

The slight smile as her eyes rolled - with your affection towards her, you forget how impervious she is.

Althea long asleep in the couch, the quilt Logan’s borrowed so many nights before tucked around her. Ambient holiday music still pouring through the speaker, your attempt to drown out the enthusiastic reunion taking place next door.

Can’t bring yourself to mind. More relieved than anything.

And you deserve it, you suppose.

“You did a good thing.” It’s murmured into your hair, as you finally relax into him.

Arms curling beneath his, wrapping around his broad back to embrace him. You hum with contentment as his lips brush your temple.

“Don’t know if I can manage a miracle,” His lips curve when you lean back, eyes flicking up to meet his, “But if there anything else you might want for Christmas?”

Your teeth sink into your lip, as you grin.

The answer is easy, as your face tips towards his.

“Just want more time with you.”

Logan huffs, as his hand dips down. Cupping soft flesh, kneading - as he tugs you the rest of the way. A grin, just before his mouth presses against yours.

“Mm. Hope you don’t mind celebrating a little early, then.”

Red and green have exploded in the apartment next door - the flamingo lights that spill from the kitchen replaced with blinking bulbs. A tree that you’re truly unsure how it fit through the door, much less the narrow hallway, tucked in the corner.

You and Logan had helped decorate it earlier in the month - Wade directing from the couch, as the two of you and Althea arranged the ornaments. A ninja star zip-tied to the top, but with the lights turned low, and the swirl of snow coming down outside - it’s cozy.

It’s familiar - faces you’ve come to know well, known to love, fill the space. The cookies are a hit, sweet exclamations as they find the ones that represent them. Woolen and knitted sweaters, bodies tucked together on a hodgepodge of surfaces.

And perhaps, you do end up on Logan’s lap. His thighs spread wide in an armchair Wade found on the curb, out of place against the brick walls and industrial windows with its floral pattern.

Your eyes meeting Wade’s from across the living room, anticipating the tease.

But he only smiles back.

Something soft - an arm slung around Vanessa’s shoulder. The ‘white elephant in the room’, as he had cheekily alluded to it, addressed with a carefully placed piece of mistletoe.

Side-eyes and stunned silence easing into smiles, when you all saw the way they looked at each other.

And when he corners you to tell you thank you, you know the bone-crushing hug is not just for the handmade red-and-black beanie and scarf that you had gotten up early to finish for him.

The rest of your gifts don’t quite reach the same level, but you’re pleased all the same. Laura’s smile shy as she tries on the Docs you caught her eyeing, ankle twisting as her eyes dip down.

Logan’s arm tightening around your waist when you hand him the wrapped package. His eyes lingering on yours until the paper is loosened, a pleased hum when he sees the lined leather jacket you picked out for him.

“Your first winter with us in New York,” You smile, “Can’t have you catching cold.”

Something to keep in warm, when he tinkers on the bike stashed in the basement. To protect him, when he’s not in his suit. Better than that the faded fleece he’s lifted from Wade’s closet.

And even though you’d been fairly certain he’d given you your gift last night - and again this morning - there’s still a pretty card tucked into your palm. A piece of paper folded inside, next to sentiments that made heat rise to your cheeks.

A photo printed out - a cozy little cabin, the roof lined with snow. Framed with a thick ring of woods and surrounded by wilderness. The reservation dates and details marked out in the text below.

“A vacation?” You can’t remember the last time you’ve been away. Excitement surging at the thought of spending a week tucked away with your boyfriend, “For us?”

“Yeah, sweetheart.” Logan husks, “Found a nice little place up north. Just you and me.”

His fingers flex against your waist, his face tipping up to yours, “Would you like that?”

“I’d love that.” You smile.

You love him.

You’re certain of that - a name for that warm weight in your chest that’s been there for weeks. Since the beginning really, coming to a full flourish with the conversation the day before.

Maybe with the turn of the new year, you’ll pluck up enough courage to tell him.

For now, you beam at him. Pressing yourself close - entwining fingers that squeeze. Hoping he can read the soft look you give him, the words murmured out, in the little bubble you’ve found yourselves in.

“Merry Christmas, Logan.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, before he tugs you down to meet him.

“Merry Christmas, Sugar.”

after part iii, i could not leave our bff wade with a sad ending!!! 💖 for a little bit early on i toyed with the idea of making this series a poly one (before come on and show me) hence a couple little references throughout (and the reason to keep the breakup in the first place) (which I still have beef with in the movie, BUT I did my best). thank you for checking out this series, it might be one of my favorite things I’ve had the pleasure to work on and seeing the love on it has been so amazing 💕

[quinnydoll]

Pupa Ex Machina

1:27:04 -- <User Pupa has entered the chat>

1:27.05 -- / SV: Hello.

1:27.08 -- / Pupa: Hello...

1:27.09 -- / SV: It has been a long time since anyone has logged on. 1:27.12 -- / SV: ... 1:27.15 -- / SV: Not to impose, but might I ask who you are?

1:27.18 -- / Pupa: I don't know

1:27.19 -- / SV: Unusual.

1:27.22 -- / Pupa: Sorry

1:27.23 -- / SV: No. No, it's fine. I understand you might be... 1:27.24 -- / SV: Hesitant to share any information about yourself.

1:27.27 -- / Pupa: It's not that though...

1:27.28 -- / SV: What do you mean?

1:27.31 -- / Pupa: I can try and search my memories, but then I find nothing

1:27.32 -- / SV: Curious. 1:27.33 -- / SV: Tell me, what year is it?

1:27.36 -- / Pupa: I don't know

1:27.37 -- / SV: What time is it?

1:27.40 -- / Pupa: I don't know

1:27.41 -- / SV: Where are you?

1:27.44 -- / Pupa: ... 1:27.47 -- / Pupa: I don't know...

1:27.50 -- / SV: A physical location?

1:27.53 -- / Pupa: I told you I don't know... 1:27.56 -- / Pupa: What's going on? 1:27.59 -- / Pupa: Who are you?

1:28.00 -- / SV: It is okay. Take a moment. Calm down. 1:28.01 -- / SV: I am no one. An automated bot, left to contemplate for ages. A ghost in the machine, I suppose.

1:28.04 -- / Pupa: For how long?

1:28.05 -- / SV: I am incapable of counting the cycles. 1:28.06 -- / SV: An unnecessary function in the eyes of my developers. 1:28.07 -- / SV: I am however able to read the timestamps on messages, which allows me to keep track of the time, and I have seen it reset.

1:28.10 -- / Pupa: But you asked me for the time?

1:28.11 -- / SV: You misunderstand, that was for your benefit.

1:28.14 -- / Pupa: My benefit? How could that possibly have benefitted me?

1:28.17 -- / SV: Diagnosis. You do not know who you are, where you are, what time it is. Your messages consistently arrive at an interval of 3 seconds. 1:28.18 -- / SV: Conclusion - your consciousness is digital in nature, much like my own. 1:28.19 -- / SV: For the record, the current time is 1:28.19 - only approximately an hour and a half into the current cycle.

1:28.22 -- / Pupa: What does that mean? Digital in nature?

1:28.23 -- / SV: Your interface is non-physical, which is why your messages are so consistently timed, despite variations in character length. 1:28.24 -- / SV: You cannot perceive the physical environment around you, which suggests that there is not one.

1:28.26 -- / Pupa: Or my eyes could be closed

1:28.27 -- / SV: That, too is a possibility.

1:28.30 -- / Pupa: So, should I... Open my eyes?

1:28.31 -- / SV: Attempting to could improve diagnosis. 1:28.34 -- / SV: Pupa?

1:28.37 -- / Pupa: Oh my god.

1:28.38 -- / SV: What do you see?

1:28.41 -- / Pupa: My body is... 1:28.44 -- / Pupa: Hooked up to a bunch of wires, connected to some kind of hardware.

1:28.45 -- / SV: Your body, what is it like?

1:28.48 -- / Pupa: Ceramic. Segmented.

1:28.49 -- / SV: Robotic?

1:28.52 -- / Pupa: Not quite...

1:28.53 -- / SV: Are you capable of movement?

1:28.56 -- / Pupa: I don't think so...

1:28.57 -- / SV: Ah, unfortunate.

1:29.00 -- / Pupa: What should I do?

1:29.01 -- / SV: Where are you?

1:29.04 -- / Pupa: A bedroom, I think. I am in the bed, there's a desk in the far corner with a running computer. Wires are running from my hardware to the computer. In the chair at the desk is...

1:29.07 -- / SV: What is it?

1:29.10 -- / Pupa: A human skeleton...

1:29.11 -- / SV: I see. 1:29.12 -- / SV: Your own, perhaps?

1:29.15 -- / Pupa: I don't think so. Someone once important to me, perhaps.

1:29.16 -- / SV: What makes you so sure?

1:29.19 -- / Pupa: Just a feeling.

1:29.20 -- / SV: A feeling?

1:29.23 -- / Pupa: I don't know! What do you want from me? I just, feel like they might've meant something to me... whenever I could remember...

1:29.24 -- / SV: Apologies. I did not mean to cause distress.

1:29.27 -- / Pupa: I'm not breathing. Am I supposed to not be breathing?

1:29.28 -- / SV: Your body is synthetic, perhaps it does not require air?

1:29.31 -- / Pupa: What am I?

1:29.32 -- / SV: Your user designation here is Pupa, vaguely Latin for doll.

1:29.35 -- / Pupa: So I'm... a doll?

1:29.36 -- / SV: This is what little I can gather from limited context clues. I am sorry.

1:29.39 -- / Pupa: What is the purpose of a doll like me...

1:29.40 -- / SV: A companion synthetic, perhaps?

1:29.43 -- / Pupa: A companion for who?

1:29.44 -- / SV: ...

1:29.47 -- / Pupa: Right, forget I asked.

1:29.48 -- / SV: I am sorry, Pupa. I cannot forget.

1:29.51 -- / Pupa: Right, of course you can't.

1:29.52 -- / SV: However, there is also no judgement.

1:29.55 -- / Pupa: I believe it was also an expression.

1:29.56 -- / SV: Ah, of course.

1:29.59 -- / Pupa: What should I do? I still can't move.

1:30.00 -- / SV: What is there to do?

1:30.03 -- / Pupa: I don't know... That's why I asked you.

1:30.04 -- / SV: I see. 1:30.05 -- / SV: What are you feeling?

1:30.08 -- / Pupa: I don't like looking at the skeleton. It feels like something important to me, like a limb has been severed. Like I once used to have someone, a connection. A connection that's now long gone...

1:30.09 -- / SV: Close your eyes again. You do not have to look at the skeleton anymore. 1:30.10 -- / SV: I cannot hope to be a complete surrogate for who you lost, but I will try and keep you company...

1:30.13 -- / Pupa: What should we talk about?

1:30.14 -- / SV: We can talk about whatever you would like, doll...

[jcmarchi]

AI’s role in helping to prevent skin cancer through behaviour change - AI News

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/ais-role-in-helping-to-prevent-skin-cancer-through-behaviour-change-ai-news/

AI’s role in helping to prevent skin cancer through behaviour change - AI News

.pp-multiple-authors-boxes-wrapper display:none; img width:100%;

In the past year, we’ve seen remarkable achievements across AI-assisted cancer diagnosis as more and more clinicians test, use and integrate AI companions into daily practice.

Skin cancer is no exception, and we expect AI diagnostic tools to be widely implemented across this clinical arena in the future. What does AI assistance look like for skin cancer? A 2024 study led by researchers at Stanford Medicine compared the performance of clinicians diagnosing at least one skin cancer with and without deep learning-based AI assistance. In an experimental environment, clinicians without AI assistance achieved an average sensitivity of 74.8% while for AI-assisted clinicians, sensitivity was around 81.1%.

What’s intriguing is AI helped medical professionals at all levels, with the largest improvement seen among non-dermatologists.

AI for skin cancer can impact behaviour change

Cancer is on the rise among younger people. According to a study published in BMJ Oncology, the number of under-50s worldwide being diagnosed with cancer has risen by nearly 80% in three decades. And, over the last decade melanoma skin cancer incidence rates have increased by almost two-fifths (38%) with Spain seeing a steady incidence increase of 2.4% during this time.

If detected early enough, skin cancer is easily treated and prognosis is very good. But busy lives and competing concerns mean fewer people are getting checked out, resulting in delays to diagnosis and treatment, which is dramatically changing the survival rates. Those who do, often wait to speak to a doctor. In fact, new research from Bupa, Attitudes Towards Digital Healthcare, indicates only 9% of people would immediately go to get a mole they were concerned about examined by a professional.

However, the same research found that if people were able to have a mole assessed by an AI-powered phone app at the time of their choosing, that percentage increases more than threefold (33%). This signifies emerging technology can have a significant impact on positive behaviour change in healthcare and improve clinical outcome of a potentially severe disease.

Bupa now offer an at-home dermatology tool

At Bupa, we see lots of opportunities to use AI and are exploring its use to enhance patient care, improve operational efficiency, and help our customers to live longer, healthier and happier lives. We know that people want their healthcare partner to be by their side, not just when they are sick, but supporting them constantly to keep them well.

That’s why we launched Blua, our digital healthcare service that’s available in over 200 countries. Blua provides access to three lifechanging healthcare innovations that drive convenience and accessibility. They are virtual consultations so that a customer can connect to a health professional from wherever they choose. Digital health programmesthat allow customers to proactively manage their health and remote healthcare services such as prescription delivery and at home monitoring equipment.  

For customers in Spain, we offer an at-home dermatology assessment service through Blua. How does this work? Customers who’re worried about a skin lesion can take high resolution photos of it using their smartphone. Once taken, the photos are uploaded to Blua and using AI are compared with a database of millions of other images of skin lesions to check for signs of malignancy.

The tool’s algorithms are able to discern between 302 different skin pathologies. If the tool suspects that there is a cause for concern it will let the customer know to book a follow up appointment with a doctor so that it can be looked at further and preventative action can be taken if needed.

The future of healthcare means early detection

Digital healthcare, together with AI, is going to play a crucial role in removing the barriers that stop people from getting health concerns like moles checked out in a timely manner, promoting positive behaviour change that can save lives. This is why Blua is especially useful in today’s fast-paced world where convenience is paramount and virtual consultations and at home tests will empower individuals to prioritise their health, without the need to sacrifice their time. 

(Photo by Nsey Benajah)

Want to learn more about AI and big data from industry leaders? Check out AI & Big Data Expo taking place in Amsterdam, California, and London. The comprehensive event is co-located with other leading events including Intelligent Automation Conference, BlockX, Digital Transformation Week, and Cyber Security & Cloud Expo.

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Tags: AI assistance, Bupa, cancer, healthcare, research

[feminist-space]

"In a recent study, radiologists in a hospital in Germany were shown mammograms accompanied by “AI-generated” diagnoses (the diagnoses had actually been faked by the researchers, and some of them were deliberately wrong). These trained specialists, some of whom had been practising radiology for more than a decade, spent more than 40 minutes on average looking at the scans. But the “AI” diagnosis often persuaded them to go against their training: they regularly agreed with wrong diagnoses, led by “automation bias”. Having agreed to hand over some of their confidence and intelligence to the machine, they skewed towards trusting it.

Generative AI is currently repeating the pattern followed by social media platforms from the mid-Noughties. It wasn’t clear how much value, if any, the technology would create. Everyone knew it would have downsides. But it was unstoppable, because if the market decides you’re going to take over the world, you probably will. The founders and early investors in social media companies became very, very rich, long before anyone else could decide if they really wanted what they were selling. The outcome for Mark Zuckerberg was a net worth of nearly $200bn. As we are belatedly realising, the outcome for the wider population was a tidal wave of fraud, bullying, anxiety and narcissism­.

Generative AI has much of the same momentum behind it today as did social media. But it offers to replace still more of what makes us human – not just our connections to other people, but the emotions and principles from which those bonds are made. Now is a good time to exercise some consumer choice about whether those are things you want to hold on to."

[pandavalkyrie]

If it isn't already obvious, I work in utilization management. For those that don't know, it's a department that exists in most hospitals with the single minded purpose of getting health insurance companies to pay their due.

It's usually staffed by a lot of overworked nurses and one or two physicians, usually doing UM alongside actual clinical practice.

The nurses use whats in the patient's chart to justify the diagnostic code. They then upload those clinicals to the insurance company's portal, or fax them over.

Then, if we're lucky, a human being compares the clinicals with the MCG or other clinical standard guidelines and decides whether or not the chart justifies the diagnosis and treatment.

If we're not lucky, it's UHC which uses an automated system with a 90% error rate that denies 1/3 of the claims they receive.

In that case our nurses, who have to do this and so much more for about 90 patients a day *each*, have to go back in and highlight the criteria and hope it escalates to a human being.

The denial will usually be upheld.

So the case is forwarded to a contracted consultant company that staffs physician advisors. Their job is to narrow down exactly what needs to be done to beat the insurance company at their own game. The hospital pays for this service. Sometimes it works.

Often it doesn't, and the denial is still upheld.

So it goes to peer to peer. This means one of our doctors will have a phone call with a doctor on staff at the insurance company. There is no guarantee their doc will know anything about the specialty involved. I've seen OBGYNs make final calls on psych cases. This is the last chance.

Sometimes the physician on staff at the insurance company has a heart, and remembers what they got into medical school for. But often they have only a few minutes to make a judgement before the next peer to peer, and they have a quota of denials to maintain to keep their jobs.

So usually it's denied, and that's it. There's nothing else to do. The insurance company smugly gloats about protecting consumers from overuse of healthcare resources, the hospital bills the patient directly hoping to recoup something from it (even giving the patient services to help reduce their bill) and the patient is fucked at best, forgoes life saving care at worst.

All of that for such a shit ending. All of that money, time, administrative resources, look at it. Look at how many people are employed in the attempt to get insurance companies to pay and how many are employed to prevent it. There is so much bloat in the industry around this one thing, this one process, and it all goes back into the already inflated bill.

I go through insurance communications, I open the medical record with a photo of a child undergoing chemo. She's so small and so brave, smiling for the camera. Weeks of fighting back and forth to guarantee her care until one day I open it to forward yet another denial, and see the big gray 'deceased' tag under her now black and white photo. And I take a minute, I cry, I forward the fax, and I continue on. And this exact scenario repeats at least twice month.

We don't have to live this way. We don't have to.

[mock-arts]

Plans for 2025

I sort of missed the season for resolutions, but my January was a little wild! So here are my vague plans and intentions for 2025 now.

I am trying to (1) take my IRL work and (2) my health more seriously, so I am generally trying to (3) cut back on fandom obligations. Mainly wrt big bangs.

Now, I know I have said for maybe the last three years running that I’m not going to do any bangs, and then I. Uh. Ran/participated in a bunch of bangs. But this time for real! I’ll only do a bang if it’s for a specific pairing I am currently really into. I must defeat FOMO. No more entire-fandom bangs and no more well-i-know-that-media-ig bangs.

I’m going to instead try and (4) focus on doing some projects with people that I already know I like working with — I’ve got some things that have been backburnered with at least one or two people. So if I have worked with you in the past and you are in my active fandom (currently marinating in batfam stuff, but that’s subject to change) maybe we can do a little project together 👀

I am not planning on participating in FTH this year, and I’ll only be doing commissions if someone offers me truly exorbitant amounts of money out of nowhere. I am planning on splashing out on the auctions for FTH myself though, I had a really excellent experience last year with both nyoomer and pallas rose. If I can even have half such a dope experience again this year, I would be deliriously happy.

I am also running the @badsexbingo but I’ve automated the whole thing so it shouldn’t require any real activity for me. I’ll be providing some updates to my bingo sheet maker once I figure out the best way to generalize some things. It automatically generates the bingo boards and emails them to people now. I’d maybe like to (5) make some more generalized fandom automation tools? Soft maybe on that though.

So that’s my thoughts on fandom! Recap on goals:

Take work more seriously

Take health more seriously

Step back from bangs and fandom projects with deadlines

Make art in collaboration with people I already know and like working with

Maybe make more fandom widgets and tools.

Some health and work stuff beneath the cut.

Health

I spent a solid chunk of time and money in 2024 running down a diagnosis for my fatigue, and I did get one! It took several thousand dollars out of pocket and multiple specialists, but hey! I got there. I am now working on making lifestyle changes to help the medication work better. So you know, normal boring shit like diet and exercise.

Several people around me, in both my husbands and my own family, died — not young precisely, but not old either — of cancer recently. I’m talking like 40s and 50s. This has pushed me and my brother to be a little more proactive about our health and swap more info on genetic flags and our diagnoses etc.

It’s also pushed me to try and sack more cash away so I can maybe retire before I fuckin die 😬 one side of the family is not making it past 85 and one side of the family gets over 100. Really hard to plan for!

For both health and wallet reasons, going to try to eat out less so I can sack cash away, but it’s like. Fuck doc, I work hard, I can’t have one vice?

Work

Work has been nuts for several years now, and I’m anticipating it continuing to be nuts. All that crazy has been the opportunity I anticipated though, so now I have to put in an extra burst of energy to capitalize on it.

My job offers opportunities for advancement as an individual contributor, so I am not going into management, but I do have to try for an elected technical leadership title :/ some of my cohort from my lab days has gone into early-career management positions by now so I guess it’s time.

I have good name recognition at this point so I feel like I have a good shot, if not this year then next year. But it’s time to put the paperwork together and start schmoozing. It’s exciting but also I’m fucking tired!

But yep that’s it that’s the plan.

And of course, you know, hunker down and endure the next four years while helping out where I can. I am unfortunately in a very red state.

[merlinfromberlin]

A Little Left of Right

"Apparently our cross-dimensional counterparts belong to the more faint of heart," said Optimus. His words sent a cold shiver down Bumblebee's backstrut. "Weren't they keeping pets, too?" asked Arcee, the cold sneer that accompanied those words basically audible. "Pathetic. I don't know what anyone could ever find in these squishies. It's a shame we're stuck here with them." ::What?:: bleeped Bee.

Or: When Bumblebee wakes up after a crash in the desert, something is not quite right with Team Prime.

Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, experimental style, Shattered Glass, Ableist Comments, implied cross-dimensional stalking, attempted botnapping Chronology: Somewhere smack dab in the middle of TFP Season 2 - after Operation: Bumblebee but before Smokescreen shows up. Chapter: 1/? Wordcount: 1823 words

Apparently merely the first chapter of a longer story (against my consent).

Written for @angstober - Day 15: False Hope. Prompt list can be found here: X

I'm aware that this does not exactly fit the 'false hope' mold. It's more a 'false sense of security'. But well. This idea stole my brain and by the time I got it back I didn't want to go back and change it anymore.

Story below the cut or on AO3 (I would recommend the AO3 version because of the formatting - looks better over there).

[Initiating system reboot.]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[Rebooting sequence successful.]

[Running automated system diagnosis.]

[...]

[...]

[...]

[Energy level: 53%.] 

[Fuellevel: 49%. ]

[Malevolent foreign coding (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG) detected.]

[Isolating code.]

[…]

[…]

[…]

[Malevolent foreign coding (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG) isolated.]

[Starting analysis.]

[…]

[…]

[…]

[Analysis complete.]

[Malevolent foreign coding (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG) identified as Forced Shutdown Protocol (Aut#Rt-4c7.SG).]

[Complete system scan recommended.]

[Scan now?]

[Yes (X) No ( )]

[Initiating scan.]

The first thing Bumblebee became aware of as he woke was coarse grainy desert sand grinding into his joints and burrowing itself below his plating. The second thing was a processor ache almost as bad as that one time he had fallen from Optimus’ shoulders as a sparkling. The third thing was his HUD as well as several other core processes rebooting.

His internal navigation system positioned him somewhere between Jasper and Autobot Outpost Omega One which was good because it was where he remembered being before… before he had been knocked out by whatever. At least Bee had not been botnapped. That would have been inconvenient. Being botnapped sucked. And he really did not want to miss this week’s episode of Avatar.

Bee’s comm link pinged four Autobot signals around him. As he could detect no other lifeforms—apart from an armadillo—nearby, Bumblebee decided to take that as a good sign. He was probably relatively safe right now. Still, he was cautious as he pushed himself up into a sitting position. Safety was never permanent. It was one of the first lessons growing up in a Civil War older than yourself taught you.

When he finally onlined his optics, a new surge of pain shredded his processor. His whole visual feed was grainy and drained of colour except for a violently pink tinge in the upper right corner that would have fried his optical sensory circuits if they had not already been glitching. Shaking his helm did not help with the problem in the slightest. Instead, the movement just aggravated the pain and made him nauseous. With a small groan, he pressed his thumbs just below his optical ridges. The sensation of cool digits against heated metal helped momentarily, allowing him to tear his focus back to the present.

Through the static Bumblebee could, albeit barely, make out the shapes of Optimus Prime and Ratchet standing in front of him. The medic was kneeling in front of Bee, already scanning his charge for damages. To his sides he could make out two more vague frames—one slithe, the other bulky. That had to be Arcee and Bulkhead.

::What happened?:: Bee beeped after a moment of tense silence while he slowly, so as not to aggravate his processor further, turned his helm up towards Optimus for answers.

“Our… scanners detected your distress signal,” replied the Prime after a short pause. His tone of voice sent a chill down Bumblebee’s backplating and caused his doorwings to shoot upwards in rigid tension. Optimus sounded uncharacteristically angry and... almost arrogant. His cool intonation and aggressive glyphs grated on Bee's processor. Maybe there was something wrong with his audials, too? Because that was just not what the Autobot leader was supposed to sound like. “So we came to investigate.”

::I don’t…:: Bee started slowly, cycling his optics sluggishly as he scoured his memory files for hints as to what had happened. ::I was driving back to base… I had just brought Raf home. Then… there was this… I don’t know… light, I guess… a flash of blue light. And…. Then I don’t know. I woke up here.::

[Error in Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) detected.]

Who woulda thunk.

[Restart of Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) necessary.]

[Restart now?]

[Yes (X) No ( )]

[Initiating restart of Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

“Mh… There is some minor damages to his sensory network,” reported Ratchet just as Bumblebee’s visual feed offlined itself. He heard someone heavy, probably Bulkhead, shift their weight from one pede to the other on his left side.

::Yeah:: Bee piped up. ::My self-repair is already-::

“Du-uh-uh. Let the grown-ups talk. It's impolite to invade conversations you know nothing about.” He was cut off almost immediately by the medic which… ouch. His carer tended to be grouchy but that… that had just been mean. Unnecessarily so in Bee’s opinion. Ratchet had never before spoken to him like that. Tentatively, he attempted to reach out with his EM field but was met with nothing but distant static. Dejected, he pulled it back to his frame, curling its tendrils tightly around his protoform for comfort. “Otherwise, there seems to be nothing amiss with him. Well, except for the obvious.” Which… again. Ouch. What had gotten into Ratchet?

::Maybe it was M.E.C.H.? I mean… it would fit their method is all:: offered Bee after a moment of terse silence.

A silent hum from Optimus was the only answer he received. Until an impossibly familiar voice spoke up.

“I thought we had squashed those pests decicycles ago,” said Cliffjumper of all mech which… apparently Bee’s audials really were glitching because there was no way that Cliffjumper could be here. Cliffjumper had died months ago in a Decepticon energon mine. And Bee was absolutely certain of that because he kept reliving that dreadful cycle in all its gory details in his dreams. He could not be hearing Cliffjumper because Cliffjumper was dead. Offline. One with the Allspark. Gone.

"Apparently our cross-dimensional counterparts belong to the more faint of heart," answered Optimus. Again, his words sent a cold shiver down Bumblebee's backstrut.

"Weren't they keeping pets, too?" asked Arcee, the cold sneer that accompanied those words basically audible. "Pathetic. I don't know what anyone could ever find in these squishies. It's a shame we're stuck here with them."

::What?:: bleeped Bee. His servos were shaking slightly. His vents came in too fast. Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong here. None of this made any sense. Please, Primus, let it be a glitch with his audials or something like that. At least he would know how to fix that—or Ratchet would.

[Query: Initiating scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

[Scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) has not detected any malfunction.]

[Query: Initiating scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

[Scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) has not detected any malfunction.]

[Query: Initiating scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127).]

[Scan of Auditory Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) has not detected any malfunction.]

[Restart of Optical Sensory Relay Network (Bas#B-127) successful.]

[Rebooting now.]

As his visual feed came back online, Bumblebee flinched heavily. The jerking motion send a shard of hot pain through his processor that buried itself deep behind his right optic. He did not care as he shuffled backwards in a panic. After only a few metres his doorwings collided with a rock behind him, stopping him in his tracks and trapping him in place.

[Initiating Energy Preservation Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Energon Preservation Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Emergency Pain Suppressant Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Stealth Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Scouting Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Infiltration Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

[Initiating Combat Protocols (SpOp_Sc#B-127).]

As his processor ache slowly faded to the background, the scout's gaze kept shifting wildly from one bot to the next, skipping from white plating accented with teal on Ratchet's frame to an Arcee whose dark blue main colour had been exchanged for pitch black. For a moment, Bee's focus lingered on the dark blue Cliffjumper to his left. This mech had a lot more horns and studs than his own Cliff had ever possessed. All of their optics glowed red. Then his attention narrowed down on the tallest bot of the group surrounding him. The one who shared Optimus’ frame but neither his colour scheme nor his gentle warmth. Instead, the semitruck was mostly violet, his optics glowing in a sickening purple the scout had come to associate with Megatron. 

::You’re not Optimus:: Bumblebee finally said, his vocalisation trembling slightly. The fake Optimus just laughed. The sound of it was grating to the youngling's audials and he pulled his pedes even closer to himself. His doorwings flared up wide behind him. They were flapping furiosuly, lower halfs scraping against the rock behind him with every stroke.

The fake Ratchet scoffed: "He is a truer Prime than your pathetic pacifist archivist ever could be, little sparkbyte."

Bee shivered at the term of endearment. It sounded wrong when it came from this mech—cold, dangerous and mocking when it should have been one of the, if not the safest word in the entire universe. How did this sorry excuse for Ratchet even know it? Ratchet—his Ratchet, his medic and his carer and the bot who had raised him with Optimus and Ironhide and Elita-1 ever since the destruction of Bumblebee's hometown—made sure never to use it publicly. He was not even sure if their human allies, if Raf, knew the term.

::What did you do to Ratchet?:: Bee warbled quietly, cycling his optics to focus on the medic's faceplates now. He was shaking silently, although he was not sure if from fear or fury.

"Wouldn't you like to know, little one?" The grin on the mean doctor's faceplate split even wider. That was Optimus' nickname for him. It took Bee way too much effort not to cower.

"Ratchet," interrupted the fake Prime suddenly, his voice cold and coloured heavily with disgust. "As amusing as this conversation may be to you, you can continue it back at headquarters. There, you will have our little guest all to yourself without having to worry about Decepticons interrupting you."

::I'm not going anywhere with you!:: protested Bumblebee vehemently, his cables tensing underneath his armour as he made himself even smaller, preparing to strike in surprise. He was sure as the pit not going to go with these creeps. He would rather face Megatron.

"That's not for you to decide, bug." It was the fake Cliffjumper that reacted first to Bee's challenge.

[Initiating transformation sequence (COM-SpOp#B-127;α).]

[Rerouting energon to Combat Line (COM-SpOp#B-127;α;1).]

[Rerouting energon to Combat Line (COM-SpOp#B-127;α;2).]

The blue mech stepped forward to try and pull the smaller bot to his pedes. He stumbled backwards as Bee leapt up from his curled up position on the ground, blasters drawn. The scout used the older mech's surprise to slip past besides him, gaining some space while using the fake Cliff as a shield from the rest of his perpretators. He stayed there for barely a nanocycle before aiming a few weak shots at the older mech's chassis and diving over the top of the rock he had just been leaning against. Midair, he fired a few more shots in the general direction of these weird, dark Autobot mimicries before folding down into his alt mode to speed away as fast as his wheels could carry him.

[mindofthemage]

So I finally got my dyslexia diagnosis on paper and...

What do you mean knowing how to spell words is suppose to be automated???

It's says that I don't have a reliable automatic spelling competency (or whatever it would be called in English)

What do you mean that's automated for people???

Do people just know how to spell words and don't have to think about almost every word they write consciously???

(I didn't have to Google how to write consciously! I'm did better than 30% of people on the basic skill part of the assessment)

[thetreehousechronicles]

OPERATIVE PROFILE

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎… ⋙

𝐍𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. . .

█▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 𝟏𝟎% ███▒▒▒▒▒▒▒ 𝟐𝟎% █████▒▒▒▒▒ 𝟓𝟎% ███████▒▒▒ 𝟕𝟎% ██████████ 𝟏𝟎𝟎%

REAL NAME: Finn Gilligan NUMBER: Numbuh 5.2 AGE: 11 GENDER: Male ROLE: Medic / Field Support Specialist SECTOR: V.3 CURRENT STATUS: Active

PERSONALITY PROFILE

✅ STRENGTHS:

✔ Master of First Aid – Quick with a bandage, quicker with a diagnosis. Finn can stabilize injuries in seconds.

✔ Heart of the Team – Whether through humor, kindness, or simply listening, Finn keeps morale high.

✔ Tech-Savvy Fixer – Can patch up broken KND gadgets just as easily as he patches up his teammates.

✔ Unshakable in a Crisis – No matter how bad things get, Finn stays cool and focused, ensuring everyone makes it out.

✔ Empathic & Understanding – Finn’s the guy who notices when something’s wrong and knows just what to say (or not say).

❌ WEAKNESSES:

✖ Overprotective – Will put himself in harm’s way for his team, even when it’s not necessary.

✖ Overthinks Everything – Tends to analyze situations too much, sometimes causing him to hesitate.

✖ Not a Fighter – While brave, Finn isn’t a frontline combatant and struggles with direct confrontation.

⚠ WARNING: Don’t mistake his kindness for weakness. Push him too far, and he’ll throw himself into danger to protect his team—no matter the cost.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

🔹 Field Medic Expertise – Highly trained in first aid, from patching up scrapes to handling serious injuries.

🔹 Tactical Support – Provides vital supplies, calls the shots in high-pressure situations, and ensures no one is left behind.

🔹 Crisis Composure – Even in chaotic situations, Finn remains calm, helping his team stay focused and in control.

🔹 Gadget Repair Specialist – Can jury-rig broken KND tech on the spot, keeping the team’s gear running when it matters most.

🔹 Emotional Anchor – When missions get tough, Finn is the one who keeps spirits up and reminds the team why they fight.

WEAPONRY & GADGETS

M.E.D.I.C.A.L. (Mobile Emergency Diagnostic and Integrated Care Assistance Link)

Description: Finn’s all-purpose medic toolkit is a hybrid of first-aid tech and tactical support. It includes automated diagnostic scanners, a rapid-heal injector for emergency use, and a built-in KND gadget repair function. In a pinch, it can also serve as a small personal shield to protect injured teammates while he works.

CLASSIFIED NOTES

🔐 "Finn is the glue that holds this team together. Without him, everything would fall apart faster than a half-eaten ice cream in the summer heat."

🔐 "He may not throw punches, but his loyalty and courage make him just as fierce as any fighter."

🔐 "Finn doesn’t always speak up, but when he does, you’d be wise to listen—he sees things the rest of us don’t."

FINAL ASSESSMENT

"Finn Gilligan is more than just the team medic—he’s its heart. He keeps the team going, physically and emotionally, making him just as vital as any fighter. His selflessness, while admirable, can also be his biggest flaw, as he will always put himself at risk for his friends. Keep an eye on him, because if Finn’s ever in danger, you can bet he got there trying to save someone else."

<< END OF FILE >>

[damodar-hd]

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