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are-we-art-yet · 2 months ago

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Is AWAY using it's own program or is this just a voluntary list of guidelines for people using programs like DALL-E? How does AWAY address the environmental concerns of how the companies making those AI programs conduct themselves (energy consumption, exploiting impoverished areas for cheap electricity, destruction of the environment to rapidly build and get the components for data centers etc.)? Are members of AWAY encouraged to contact their gov representatives about IP theft by AI apps?

What is AWAY and how does it work?

AWAY does not "use its own program" in the software sense—rather, we're a diverse collective of ~1000 members that each have their own varying workflows and approaches to art. While some members do use AI as one tool among many, most of the people in the server are actually traditional artists who don't use AI at all, yet are still interested in ethical approaches to new technologies.

Our code of ethics is a set of voluntary guidelines that members agree to follow upon joining. These emphasize ethical AI approaches, (preferably open-source models that can run locally), respecting artists who oppose AI by not training styles on their art, and refusing to use AI to undercut other artists or work for corporations that similarly exploit creative labor.

Environmental Impact in Context

It's important to place environmental concerns about AI in the context of our broader extractive, industrialized society, where there are virtually no "clean" solutions:

The water usage figures for AI data centers (200-740 million liters annually) represent roughly 0.00013% of total U.S. water usage. This is a small fraction compared to industrial agriculture or manufacturing—for example, golf course irrigation alone in the U.S. consumes approximately 2.08 billion gallons of water per day, or about 7.87 trillion liters annually. This makes AI's water usage about 0.01% of just golf course irrigation.

Looking into individual usage, the average American consumes about 26.8 kg of beef annually, which takes around 1,608 megajoules (MJ) of energy to produce. Making 10 ChatGPT queries daily for an entire year (3,650 queries) consumes just 38.1 MJ—about 42 times less energy than eating beef. In fact, a single quarter-pound beef patty takes 651 times more energy to produce than a single AI query.

Overall, power usage specific to AI represents just 4% of total data center power consumption, which itself is a small fraction of global energy usage. Current annual energy usage for data centers is roughly 9-15 TWh globally—comparable to producing a relatively small number of vehicles.

The consumer environmentalism narrative around technology often ignores how imperial exploitation pushes environmental costs onto the Global South. The rare earth minerals needed for computing hardware, the cheap labor for manufacturing, and the toxic waste from electronics disposal disproportionately burden developing nations, while the benefits flow largely to wealthy countries.

While this pattern isn't unique to AI, it is fundamental to our global economic structure. The focus on individual consumer choices (like whether or not one should use AI, for art or otherwise,) distracts from the much larger systemic issues of imperialism, extractive capitalism, and global inequality that drive environmental degradation at a massive scale.

They are not going to stop building the data centers, and they weren't going to even if AI never got invented.

Creative Tools and Environmental Impact

In actuality, all creative practices have some sort of environmental impact in an industrialized society:

Digital art software (such as Photoshop, Blender, etc) generally uses 60-300 watts per hour depending on your computer's specifications. This is typically more energy than dozens, if not hundreds, of AI image generations (maybe even thousands if you are using a particularly low-quality one).

Traditional art supplies rely on similar if not worse scales of resource extraction, chemical processing, and global supply chains, all of which come with their own environmental impact.

Paint production requires roughly thirteen gallons of water to manufacture one gallon of paint.

Many oil paints contain toxic heavy metals and solvents, which have the potential to contaminate ground water.

Synthetic brushes are made from petroleum-based plastics that take centuries to decompose.

That being said, the point of this section isn't to deflect criticism of AI by criticizing other art forms. Rather, it's important to recognize that we live in a society where virtually all artistic avenues have environmental costs. Focusing exclusively on the newest technologies while ignoring the environmental costs of pre-existing tools and practices doesn't help to solve any of the issues with our current or future waste.

The largest environmental problems come not from individual creative choices, but rather from industrial-scale systems, such as:

Industrial manufacturing (responsible for roughly 22% of global emissions)

Industrial agriculture (responsible for roughly 24% of global emissions)

Transportation and logistics networks (responsible for roughly 14% of global emissions)

Making changes on an individual scale, while meaningful on a personal level, can't address systemic issues without broader policy changes and overall restructuring of global economic systems.

Intellectual Property Considerations

AWAY doesn't encourage members to contact government representatives about "IP theft" for multiple reasons:

We acknowledge that copyright law overwhelmingly serves corporate interests rather than individual creators

Creating new "learning rights" or "style rights" would further empower large corporations while harming individual artists and fan creators

Many AWAY members live outside the United States, many of which having been directly damaged by the US, and thus understand that intellectual property regimes are often tools of imperial control that benefit wealthy nations

Instead, we emphasize respect for artists who are protective of their work and style. Our guidelines explicitly prohibit imitating the style of artists who have voiced their distaste for AI, working on an opt-in model that encourages traditional artists to give and subsequently revoke permissions if they see fit. This approach is about respect, not legal enforcement. We are not a pro-copyright group.

In Conclusion

AWAY aims to cultivate thoughtful, ethical engagement with new technologies, while also holding respect for creative communities outside of itself. As a collective, we recognize that real environmental solutions require addressing concepts such as imperial exploitation, extractive capitalism, and corporate power—not just focusing on individual consumer choices, which do little to change the current state of the world we live in.

When discussing environmental impacts, it's important to keep perspective on a relative scale, and to avoid ignoring major issues in favor of smaller ones. We promote balanced discussions based in concrete fact, with the belief that they can lead to meaningful solutions, rather than misplaced outrage that ultimately serves to maintain the status quo.

If this resonates with you, please feel free to join our discord. :)

Works Cited:

USGS Water Use Data: https://www.usgs.gov/mission-areas/water-resources/science/water-use-united-states

Golf Course Superintendents Association of America water usage report: https://www.gcsaa.org/resources/research/golf-course-environmental-profile

Equinix data center water sustainability report: https://www.equinix.com/resources/infopapers/corporate-sustainability-report

Environmental Working Group's Meat Eater's Guide (beef energy calculations): https://www.ewg.org/meateatersguide/

Hugging Face AI energy consumption study: https://huggingface.co/blog/carbon-footprint

International Energy Agency report on data centers: https://www.iea.org/reports/data-centres-and-data-transmission-networks

Goldman Sachs "Generational Growth" report on AI power demand: https://www.goldmansachs.com/intelligence/pages/gs-research/generational-growth-ai-data-centers-and-the-coming-us-power-surge/report.pdf

Artists Network's guide to eco-friendly art practices: https://www.artistsnetwork.com/art-business/how-to-be-an-eco-friendly-artist/

The Earth Chronicles' analysis of art materials: https://earthchronicles.org/artists-ironically-paint-nature-with-harmful-materials/

Natural Earth Paint's environmental impact report: https://naturalearthpaint.com/pages/environmental-impact

Our World in Data's global emissions by sector: https://ourworldindata.org/emissions-by-sector

"The High Cost of High Tech" report on electronics manufacturing: https://goodelectronics.org/the-high-cost-of-high-tech/

"Unearthing the Dirty Secrets of the Clean Energy Transition" (on rare earth mineral mining): https://www.theguardian.com/environment/2023/apr/18/clean-energy-dirty-mining-indigenous-communities-climate-crisis

Electronic Frontier Foundation's position paper on AI and copyright: https://www.eff.org/wp/ai-and-copyright

Creative Commons research on enabling better sharing: https://creativecommons.org/2023/04/24/ai-and-creativity/

#ai art #ai art discourse #discourse #ai discourse

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cosmicpuzzle · 1 year ago

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Which Education🎓📚 is right for you?

Mercury rules your interest and consequently which type of course you would select.

Now you have to see how Mercury is placed. For example if Mercury is conjunct Moon it would have same effect as Mercury in Cancer or Moon opposite Mercury.

Mercury -Sun: It is called Budh Aditya yoga. These people can shine in political science, geology, sociology, medicine and they can be good leaders too. They may prepare for competitive exams.

Mercury-Moon: Some changes or confusion in choice of course. Can study more than one subject but both vastly different from each other. Chemical, hotel management, nutrition, chef, psychology, tarot and intuitive studies.

Mercury-Mars: Some obstacles in education, breaks and interruptions (dropping classes), engineering (especially related to machines, drawings, plans, civil, electronics), medicine (especially related to surgery), fire and safety engineering,

Mercury-Venus: Sales, marketing, HR, interior designing, makeup courses, all type of fine arts, vocational courses, acting courses.

Mercury-Saturn: Engineering (like construction , petroleum, mining core subjects), structural engineering, drafting, administrative studies.

Mercury-Jupiter: Finance, CPA, CMA, accounting, teaching, law field, journalism, VJ, pilots, aeronautical.

Mercury- Rahu: Chemical, nuclear subjects, cinematography, software courses, digital marketing, share markets, computer hardware, import export, AI, Machine Learning courses.

Mercury-Ketu: Computer coding, electrical engineering, bio technology, astrology, virology, research oriented fields.

For Readings DM

#astrology #astrology observations #zodiac #zodiac signs #astro community #astro observations #vedic astrology #astro notes #vedic astro notes #astrology community #mercury signs #mercury in aquarius #mercury retrograde #pisces mercury

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ikiprian · 1 year ago

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Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School is a popular YouTube series. Tucker Foley is a star student.

Barbara Gordon's Cram School posts free online courses for both coding and computer engineering. Think Crash Course in terms of entertainment, but college lecture in terms of depth. Hundreds of thousands of viewers flock to it— students who missed a class, people looking to add new skills to a resume, even simple hobbyists. It’s a project Barbara’s proud of.

Sometimes, when she wants to relax, she’ll even hop in the comments and spend an afternoon troubleshooting a viewer’s project with them.

User “Fryer-Tuck” has especially interesting ones. Barbara finds herself seeking out his comments, checking in on whatever this crazy kid is making next. An app for collecting GPS pings and assembling them on a map in real-time, an algorithm that connects geographic points to predict something’s movement taking a hundred other variables into account, simplified versions of incredibly complex homemade programs so they can run on incredibly limited CPU’s.

(Barbara wants to buy the kid a PC. It seems he’s got natural talent, but he keeps making reference to a PDA. Talk about 90’s! This guy’s hardware probably predates his birth.)

She chats with him more and more, switching to less public PM threads, and eventually, he opens up. His latest project, though, is not something Barbara has personal experience with.

FT: so if you found, hypothetically, a mysterious glowing substance that affects tech in weird and wacky ways that could totally have potential but might be vaguely sentient/otherworldly…. what would you do and how would you experiment with it. safely, of course. and hypothetically

BG: I’d make sure all my tests were in disposable devices and quarantined programs to keep it from infecting my important stuff. Dare I ask… how weird and wacky is it?

FT: uhhh. theoretically, a person composed of this substance once used it to enter a video game. like physical body, into the computer, onto the screen? moving around and talking and fighting enemies within the game?

FT: its been experimented with before, but not on any tech with a brain. just basic shields and blasters and stuff, its an energy source. also was put in a car once

FT: i wanna see how it affects software, yk? bc i already know it can. mess around and see how far i can push it

BG: […]

FT: … barbara?

BG: Sorry, thinking. Would you mind sharing more details? You said “blasters?”

Honestly. Kid genius with access to some truly wacky materials and even wackier weapons, she needs to start a file on him before he full sends to either hero or villain.

[OR: Tucker is a self-taught hacker, but if he were to credit a teacher, he'd name Barbara Gordon's Coding & Computer Cram School! He's even caught the attention of Dr. Gordon herself. She's full of sage advice, and with how she preaches the value of a good VPN, he's sure she's not pro-government. Maybe she'll help him as he studies the many applications of ecto-tech!]

#she does end up sending tucker a PC lol #and after she learns he has experience supporting a superhero team maybe pushes his name forward to WEs outreach program for r&d potentials #picks him up by the scruff and says MY coding buddy #also fun fact she had a phd in library science at one point. i like that about her i think we should talk about it a little more #also tucker was making a ghost reporting & tracking app for amity parkers #dpxdc #dcxdp #barbara gordon #tucker foley #prompt #kipwrite

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xuchiya · 3 months ago

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Young Gen Love || jeong yunho || 800 follower special

| genre: fluff. slice of life. slow-burn-ish | mentions: nothing much. just a little anxiety but it is more of yunho being a gentleman.

thank you all so much, my loves! My journey here in this platform has been amazing, met a lot and lots of my loves! 🤍🥹

January 16, 2025

It was my first day on my night classes that my mom told me to apply to since it coordinates with my chosen course in college. I walk in the computer classroom, greeting everyone and the professor, I sat at the back and settle my bag down. Night classes always had a different kind of energy—dimly lit hallways, the hum of fluorescent lights, and the quiet murmur of students trying to absorb the lessons after an already long day.

I scanned my surroundings. Most of my classmates were older—some around my parents’ age, others even older. They were here to learn the basics of computers, eager but sometimes struggling with the difference between software and hardware. I admired their determination, but at the same time, a small disappointment settled in my chest.

There was no one my age. And it would be fun having someone close or older or younger than me would be my classmate, I spun on my chair, turning on my designated computer.

Just as I resigned myself to being the odd one out, the door creaked open. A tall figure walked in, gripping the strap of his backpack. Brunette hair slightly tousled, sharp eyes taking in the room, a quiet but undeniable presence. Our professor gestured for him to introduce himself.

"I'm Jeong Yunho, I'm 24 and ..." he said, voice steady, but there was a hint of nervousness underneath. "I’m here to learn more about computers. I only have basic knowledge, so... please take care of me." He bows his head before moving towards his seat which was just on my right side.

My lips quirked up.

He was a few months younger than me—just a small gap—but enough to make me feel relieved. I wasn’t alone anymore.

For two weeks, we didn’t speak. We barely even acknowledged each other kudos to my stuttering and introverted personality, but slowly, the class dynamics shifted. People became more comfortable, more familiar. I started moving around, observing other groups engagin conversatoins with them and having few shared laughters, taking notes on how they configured the computers, absorbing techniques like a sponge.

One night, I found myself hovering near his table. He was struggling on one of the tasks. Yunho was focused, brows furrowed as he listened to our professor’s explanation, his hands hovering uncertainly over the keyboard. He was clearly still learning, still figuring things out, but he was determined.

He always came to face the same error for the past 5 minutes until he sighs, "I have to redo this again ..." I chuckle, pulling a chair beside him, "You just miss one step that's why you were facing this error ... let me help."

He glances at me before nodding. He followed my instructions, even explaining to him why it needs to apply or how it functions when applied. He nods as we finish the task, he sighs in relief, turning to me.

"You're good." Yunho compliments. I chuckle, waving off his compliment but that didn't stop my cheeks from burning.

"No I'm not. I barely started my task." He looks at my open computer then back to me. A playful look on his eyebrows, "Or you're just lying to me right now and finished hours ago."

I chuckle shaking my head, "Believe me, I haven't even open File explorer."

Somehow, without realizing it, we started spending more time together—small moments, like exchanging notes, grabbing snacks during breaks, or sharing casual stories. Weeks passed, turning into months, and something about him pulled me in.

And that's where I started to notice things.

February 13, 2025

The night air was crisp, the streetlights casting a soft yellow glow along the sidewalk. The usual post-class chatter had faded as our classmates rushed off to catch their trains, leaving just the two of us walking down the main road toward my bus stop.

The city was still alive—cars rolling past with their headlights cutting through the night, distant honks echoing, and the occasional murmur of people walking ahead. I pulled my jacket tighter around me, my bag slung over one shoulder, as Yunho walked in step beside me, his hands casually tucked into his pockets.

I didn't think much of it at first, but as we walked, I noticed the way he moved—subtle, instinctive. When I unconsciously veered too close to the curb, he shifted, placing himself between me and the street without a word. I glanced up at him, but his face remained neutral, as if he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

Curious, I tested it. I deliberately took a step closer to the road, pretending to adjust my bag strap.

Without missing a beat, he adjusted too, his shoulder brushing mine as he once again positioned himself between me and the passing cars.

I bit back a smile. But then I tried to walk in front of him, doing a little skip as I near to the road to see if he’d follow.

And he did.

A hand was suddenly were on my shoulder and pushes me gently back on the sidewalk and position himself beside me. A warmth spread through my chest. It wasn’t exaggerated. It wasn’t done for attention. He simply moved with me, like an unspoken promise to keep me safe.

"You know the rule" I finally murmured, breaking the comfortable silence. He turned his head slightly, looking down at me with mild confusion. "What rule?"

"The sidewalk rule." I lifted a brow, tilting my head toward him. For a moment, he didn’t respond, just kept walking. Then, he let out a small chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, his ears turning red. "It’s just a habit, I guess."

"A habit?"

"Yeah." His voice was softer now. "I was raised to always walk on the side closest to the street when I’m with someone I—" He paused, clearing his throat, looking away. "—when I’m with someone important."

My breath hitched.

I turned my head away, hoping the cool air would calm the sudden rush of warmth creeping up my neck. My heart pounded so loudly I was certain he could hear it.

We walked in silence for a few more steps until the bus stop came into view. Yunho slowed his pace beside me, as if reluctant to reach it too soon.

And I realized, at that moment, I didn’t want the walk to end either.

February 21, 2025

It was late, the night air cool as our group made their way down the sidewalk towards the train station. Streetlights flickered overhead, their warm glow casting long shadows along the pavement. Conversations were scattered—some laughing, some yawning, everyone eager to get home after another long class.

As we approached my usual bus stop, the others barely slowed, waving quick goodbyes as they hurried off to catch their trains. I watched them disappear down the road, my breath fogging slightly in the chilly air.

All except one.

"You guys go ahead," Yunho’s voice came from beside me. His hands were stuffed into his jacket pockets, his posture relaxed, yet there was an undeniable certainty in his tone. "I'll wait for her til' the bus comes."

I froze.

My heart stuttered so hard I thought for sure he'd hear it. I turned slightly, expecting some kind of teasing grin, but there was none. Just him, standing there as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

The others didn’t question it. They just nodded and waved, disappearing into the night. And suddenly, it was just the two of us.

The bus stop felt quieter than usual, the occasional car humming past as we stood beneath the soft glow of the streetlight. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened. "You really didn’t have to wait, you know," I murmured, glancing up at him.

He shrugged. "It’s fine." Then, a small smirk tugged at his lips. "Can’t have you standing out here all alone, can I?"

I swallowed, warmth creeping up my neck.

For the next few minutes, we talked—about class, about the ridiculous things our professor said that night, about how our classmates were still struggling with the configurations. His voice was smooth, casual, as if this was just another normal moment. But for me?

I was barely keeping it together.

The way he stood close enough that our arms almost brushed. The way his laughter rumbled softly in the quiet night. The way he looked down at me whenever I spoke, his eyes warm and focused, like nothing else existed in that moment but me.

Then, headlights appeared in the distance. My bus.

I felt a strange disappointment settle in my chest. As the bus slowed to a stop, I turned to him, unsure of what to say. "Thanks for waiting with me," I said, my voice softer than intended.

Yunho just smiled, tilting his head slightly. "Of course."

I took a step toward the open doors, but before I could climb in, I felt a gentle tug on my wrist.

I turned, wide-eyed. Yunho’s fingers curled lightly around mine, his grip warm even in the cold air, "Get home safe ... I-" he said, his voice quieter now, more intentional yet cutting himself off which made me curious.

And then, just like that, he let go, stepping back with an easy smile, as if he hadn’t just tilted my entire world.

I somehow managed to get on the bus, my legs feeling suspiciously weak. As the doors closed and the vehicle pulled away, I turned toward the window, watching as he stood there, hands back in his pockets, watching me leave.

He didn’t move until I was completely out of sight.

I barely survived that night without combusting.

February 26, 2025

I was late.

Again.

The clock glared at me with red, unrelenting numbers as I rushed out of my internship office, my heart pounding with a mix of exhaustion and urgency. The overtime had stretched longer than expected, eating into my class hours, and by the time I finally made it to the campus, an entire hour had slipped through my fingers.

I hated this. Hated the way I stumbled into the classroom, breathless, trying to make myself as invisible as possible while my professor continued the discussion without sparing me a glance. But I knew he noticed. His sharp, fleeting glance from the corner of his eye said enough.

I barely managed to slide into a chair before the weight of my lateness pressed into my chest like a cinderblock. The screen in front of me was filled with configuration steps and code I had no context for. My classmates were already deep into the task, their fingers flying over keyboards with an ease that only familiarity could bring.

I was lost.

The frustration built in my throat, burning hot and bitter. My fingers hovered uselessly over my touchpad as my eyes flickered between the screen and my classmates' progress. I tried to piece together what I had missed, but the more I stared, the more my thoughts tangled into a suffocating mess.

Then, a voice.

Low, familiar—steady.

"You okay?"

I blinked, snapping out of my panic just enough to register the presence beside me.

Yunho.

When had he moved closer? He had been at one of our classmate's table earlier helping on the task, but now he was right beside me, his presence a quiet force against my frazzled nerves. His scent—rich, chocolate-sweet cologne—wrapped around me, grounding and distracting all at once.

I turned my head slightly, and that’s when I realized just how close he was.

Too close.

He wasn’t even pretending to keep a respectable distance. His shoulder nearly brushed mine, his face mere inches away. The dim glow of the computer monitor cast soft shadows across his features, making the sharp angles of his jawline look impossibly gentle.

I nodded, moving to one of our friend's computer as he navigates the task, I watch the task unfolding, hoping I could catch up but with Yunho's presence really close to me was a challenge I don't think I'll success.

A small smile tugged at his lips, almost amused. "Focus," he murmured, voice dipping lower. "I need you to teach me."

Teach him?

The irony almost made me laugh. I was the one barely keeping my head above water, the one scrambling to understand what I had missed, and yet here he was—acting like I had everything under control.

But there was something in his tone. Something reassuring, something that pulled me away from my spiraling frustration and anchored me to the moment.

To him.

I swallowed, forcing myself to nod. "Right. Okay."

I tried to focus, I really did.

But every time he leaned in to ask our friend what he did, every time his voice brushed against my ear, my brain short-circuited. The deep timbre of his words sent shivers down my spine, making it nearly impossible to concentrate.

At one point, I had been leaning forward too long, my back protesting from the awkward position. I shifted, stretching slightly as I took a small step back—only for my heel to catch against something solid.

A box.

A stupid box filled with unused wires.

I barely had time to gasp before I lost my balance, the world tilting as I braced for impact. But I never hit the ground.

Warm hands caught me. One gripping my waist, firm and steady. The other securing my forearm, his fingers wrapping around my wrist like a lifeline.

My breath hitched.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The air between us was thick, electric, charged with something unspoken. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs as I slowly lifted my gaze, and that’s when I realized—he was staring at me.

Really staring.

His expression had shifted from his usual playful ease to something deeper, something unreadable. His dark eyes searched mine, his grip on me unwavering.

"You okay?" His voice had softened, laced with concern.

I could barely breathe. My entire body was frozen, caught in the intensity of his gaze, in the warmth of his hands still steadying me.

I nodded—too quickly. "Y-Yeah. I just—I should—" I cleared my throat, forcing my voice to sound normal. "I should get back to my seat."

His hands lingered for half a second longer before he finally let go, and I nearly stumbled again—not because of the wires this time, but because my knees felt ridiculously weak.

I didn’t dare look at him as I hurried back to my seat, my heart still hammering, my skin burning where his hands had been.

But minutes later, a chair scraped against the floor, and before I knew it, he was sitting behind me. I inhaled sharply, trying to calm my racing pulse, "Go to the partition first," Yunho instructed, his voice steady, as if nothing had just happened. "You need a drive to place your folder."

I nodded, gripping the mouse, determined to focus. But my fingers didn’t move the pointer to the right place.

He noticed, "There," he pointed, his patience unwavering.

I tried again. Fumbled. And then—his hand covered mine. Large. Warm. Steady. Guiding the mouse effortlessly, his fingers brushed against mine, sending a sharp jolt of electricity up my spine.

My breath hitched. My whole body stiffened. The world outside this moment ceased to exist. The quiet murmurs of our classmates, the soft hum of the computers, the faint tapping of keyboards—it all faded into nothingness.

All I could focus on was him.

His warmth against my skin.

The way his fingers curled slightly over mine, his grip neither forceful nor hesitant, just there—as if this wasn’t something he had to think about, as if guiding my hand was the most natural thing in the world.

Seconds stretched endlessly. I forgot how to breathe, forgot how to think, forgot how to function.

He didn’t move.

Neither did I.

The space between us shrank, charged with something unspoken, something that made the air feel heavier. I could feel his breath ghosting near my temple, slow and steady, in complete contrast to the erratic drumming of my own heartbeat.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry.

I should pull away. I should.

But I didn’t. Because for all the chaos in my head, for all the ways my body betrayed me with its nervous tremors, there was one undeniable truth—

I liked this.

I like him.

March 14, 2025

Guilt settled heavily on my chest as I walked toward campus, my steps slower than usual.

I had clocked out overtime again, staying later than planned at my internship. It was becoming a habit, one that weighed on me more than I cared to admit. The familiar exhaustion clung to my body, but it was nothing compared to the quiet guilt pressing down on me.

By the time I arrived at my night class, the discussion had already been going on for an hour. I barely took a breath before sliding the door open.

The creak of the door was louder than I intended, loud enough to make heads turn. The room fell into momentary silence, the professor pausing mid-sentence.

I bowed my head slightly. "Sorry I’m late."

Keeping my voice steady, I gently closed the door behind me. My friends greeted me with small smiles as I passed, but I barely acknowledged them. My mind was still occupied—by my professor’s earlier warning, by the weight of my internship hours, by the nagging feeling that I was always two steps behind.

I settled into my seat, adjusting my chair as I exhaled quietly. It was only then that I felt it. I didn’t have to look to know whose they were.

Even as I focused on my computer, booting it up, I could feel his gaze lingering on me—not intrusive, just there. A quiet presence, unwavering, as if he had been waiting.

The soft glow of my friend’s screen pulled my attention. They were exchanging files, peer-to-peer, laughing as they successfully transferred them. The energy in the room felt light, carefree—so different from the tightness in my chest.

I sighed, rubbing at my temple before shifting my gaze to the board. The task was written clearly, the instructions laid out in neat bullet points. I had to catch up. Again.

"You'll catch up quickly." His voice cut through my thoughts just as a familiar scent—warm, chocolate-sweet cologne—wrapped around me.

My body instantly relaxed.

I leaned back slightly, eyes flickering to my side, where Yunho sat comfortably beside me. He wasn’t even looking at his own screen—just watching me with a quiet sort of amusement.

I scoffed lightly, turning back to my task. "Barely…"

He noticed something in my tone, something unspoken. His breath came out in a quiet sigh. "You don’t have to worry about being late when you can catch up this fast."

I turned to him, frowning slightly. "If only I wasn’t being called out…"

Before he could respond, one of our classmates announced that we could take a break. I grabbed my snacks and drink, slipping out of the room before the air inside became too suffocating.

The campus at night was quiet, peaceful.

Most of the buildings were dark, the hallways emptied out as students took their breaks in small groups. I walked up a few steps, my feet leading me instinctively to the open soccer field. It wasn’t particularly grand—just an expanse of grass surrounded by empty bleachers—but the sky above it made all the difference.

Stars.

They scattered across the vast darkness, twinkling softly, stretching endlessly beyond my reach. The sight alone eased some of the tightness in my chest, the weight of the day slowly lifting.

I sat on the benches, nibbling on a cookie from my container, my gaze locked onto the sky. The quiet, the solitude—it was exactly what I needed.

Until I felt presence sat beside me, his usual cologne had been my cravings ever since and I didn’t need to look to know who it was. He didn’t say anything at first, simply making himself comfortable next to me.

"Stars make you calm."

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A fact. A truth only he seemed to know.

I glanced at him, but he was already looking at the sky, his features relaxed in the dim glow of the field lights. Something about the way he sat beside me—so effortlessly, as if he belonged there—made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t quite name.

Without thinking, I tilted my cookie container toward him in silent offering. He glanced down, a small smile playing on his lips before he shook his head. "I’m good."

I shrugged, taking another bite, savoring the sweetness on my tongue as the night stretched around us. The air was cool, tinged with the distant scent of damp grass, and the silence between us was easy—comfortable in a way that made my heart ache.

Then I noticed an arm—his arm—outstretched just behind me.

Not quite touching. Not quite reaching. Just there.

I glanced down, my breath catching slightly when I saw his hand resting flat on the seat, fingers lightly curled against the worn wood, mere inches from where I sat. Close enough that if I leaned back even slightly, I would feel the warmth of him.

For a moment, my mind raced. Had he meant to do that? Or was it just a natural movement? But then I realized—this bench had no backrest. And his arm wasn’t just there.

It was there for me.

A quiet, unspoken shield. A presence that kept me from leaning too far back, from losing balance on the edge of the bench. A silent protection. My throat tightened, a warmth blooming in my chest that had nothing to do with the night air.

I swallowed hard, staring back up at the stars as if I hadn’t noticed. But I had. And from the way Yunho sat, his posture relaxed yet deliberate, I knew he had too.

Class had ended, but I wasn’t free just yet. I lingered in the quiet classroom, shifting my weight from foot to foot as my professor gave me a patient but pointed look.

"I know your internship keeps you busy," he said, his voice gentle yet firm. "But you’re missing too much of the discussion. Try to balance it better, alright?"

Guilt pricked at my chest. I nodded, murmuring an apology, though my mind was already running through the hours I had spent at my internship today. The exhaustion from overtime clung to me like a second skin, pressing into my shoulders, but I couldn’t let it show.

As I stepped out of the classroom, the hallway stretched before me, eerily empty. The faint hum of a vending machine buzzed from the corner, the overhead fluorescent lights flickering slightly, casting soft shadows on the polished tiles.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips. I adjusted the strap of my bag and headed for the exit. A shadow shifted near the corner of the hallway, just beyond the reach of the dim light. My breath hitched, my pulse jumping in surprise.

"Ah!—" I barely had time to react before a familiar chuckle cut through the silence.

"Did I scare you?" He stepped forward, emerging from the dim glow like a scene straight out of a dream. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his dark jacket, the fabric slightly wrinkled from the way he had been leaning against the wall. His hair was tousled, the strands catching the light in a way that made my heart stutter.

My shoulders relaxed, but my pulse refused to slow down. "Argh! Yunho!" He chuckles as we walk down the hallway, I turn to him frowning, "What are you doing here? I thought you left with the others."

He shrugged, falling into step beside me as we exited the building. "I figured you’d be held back."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You figured?" He turned his head slightly, giving me a look that made my stomach flip. "You were late today, figured Sir Coups will speak to you. Again."

Heat crept up my neck. I tried to look indifferent, but the knowing glint in his eyes told me he had already seen through me. Before I could defend myself, he nudged my arm lightly.

I blinked up at him. "What?"

"Smile… You look pretty." he murmured, his voice carried something unspoken. I shake my head but my lips still curled up into a small smile.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, it was charged—thick with something lingering between us, something neither of us had yet put into words. The air felt heavier, warmer, despite the cool night breeze brushing against my skin.

We reached the front gate, and I instinctively slowed my steps, scanning the road for any sign of my bus. But there was nothing. No buses, no jeepneys, no taxis—just the dimly lit street stretching into the distance, eerily quiet. I was hoping a bus or anything will pass by so I could climb in as soon as possible.

But looks like fate has different plans.

With a resigned sigh, I started walking toward the next stop, and as expected, Yunho followed without hesitation.

The streetlights cast long shadows as we walked, the soft glow bouncing off the pavement. The only sounds were the distant hum of traffic and the rhythmic steps of our shoes against the sidewalk.

I hesitated before speaking. "Won’t your parents worry about you getting home this late?" He exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "No, they don’t mind… as long as they know I get you home safely."

I stopped mid-step.

For a moment, everything around me faded—the city lights, the distant sounds of passing cars, even the cool breeze nipping at my skin. My heart thudded violently in my chest, so loud I was sure he could hear it.

My smartwatch vibrated against my wrist. Abnormal pulse detected.

Of course. Of course, it did. Not with him for always making my heart abnormally fast!

I swallowed thickly, my face burning. Get me home safely? Had he really just said that? So casually, as if it was the most natural thing in the world? Before I could fully recover, Yunho turned slightly, his expression amused. "You okay? You look a little—"

"I’m fine!" I blurted out, shoving his arm lightly as I marched ahead, desperate to escape the warmth blooming across my face. He let out a soft laugh, the sound deep and rich, but he didn’t push me further. Instead, he fell back into step beside me, hands still tucked in his pockets.

A few more minutes passed before my bus finally appeared in the distance, its headlights cutting through the dim glow of the streetlamps. I exhaled in relief, stepping forward as it slowed to a stop.

But just as I reached for the handrails, something warm wrapped around my wrist.

I turned—and everything stopped.

Yunho’s fingers curled gently around mine, his grip neither loose nor forceful. Just enough to hold me there. Just enough to make my breath hitch.

The warmth of his touch seeped into my skin, spreading like wildfire through my veins. I looked up, wide-eyed, and he only smiled—a soft, knowing smile that made my stomach twist in the most unbearable way.

"Get home safe," he murmured, his voice quieter now, deeper, as if he were speaking directly into my soul. And there was no longer hesitation in his eyes. "I still need to take you out on a date."

My brain short-circuited.

A date?

Before I could even process it, before I could react, before I could breathe—

He lifted my hand and pressed a soft, feather-light kiss against the back of it.

The world blurred.

The sounds of the city dulled into silence.

Even my own heartbeat seemed to pause, as if it couldn’t decide whether to stop completely or speed up until it burst. His lips barely lingered for a second, but the warmth of his touch burned into my skin, leaving behind something I knew I’d never forget.

The bus doors hissed open behind me, but my feet refused to move. I stared at him, my mind racing, my heart a mess of erratic beats.

Yunho pulled away, his eyes never leaving mine. His fingers slowly slipped from my wrist, the absence of his touch leaving a void I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

The driver cleared his throat, snapping me out of my trance. Dazed, I stepped onto the bus, my legs trembling beneath me.

The doors slid shut. The bus rolled forward.

Through the glass window, I saw him—standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets, watching with a smile on his lips until I was gone. A breath I hadn’t realized I was holding escaped my lips.

The bus driver chuckled, shaking his head as he glanced at me through the rearview mirror, "Young love," he mused, his voice tinged with amusement.

I swallowed, my fingers grazing the spot where Yunho’s lips had touched. A slow, giddy smile spread across my face.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez fluff #ateez atiny #ateez yunho x reader #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #ateez jeong yunho #yunho fluff #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #atz #jeong yunho fanfic

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keuwibloom · 2 years ago

Text

Finally, we have the Parasynth designs for Nightmare and the rest of the gang!

And of course, to add to that--

Parallel Synthesis Info Dump: Nightmare's Gang Edition!

As mentioned in the star sanses info dump, the gang usually go on less missions. This is because they really only have one goal when they travel on official business: spread negativity. This means Nightmare will send the gang out to either maintain the bad vibes in an already negative AU, or cause chaos in AUs leaning more positive.

Nightmare will sometimes personally come on group missions, but he prefers to oversee or go on small but frequent solo missions (for reconaissance purposes mainly). The gang gets to handle the larger-scale ones.

Since a truce was established and both groups are on relatively good terms, these missions go on until the negativity balances out any excess positivity. In their earlier days the gang used to be a lot more brutal, but they currently try to avoid taking lives as much as possible.

As for how the Multiverse Balance itself works, think of it like a computer; Creation and Destruction are the hardware, the physical parts that make up the multiverse. While Negativity and Positivity are the software, the data that flows through the multiverse that helps to keep it running. When there's too much positivity being processed at once, the multiverse is at risk of "overheating". That's why its important to do negativity "maintenance" every now and then.

Positivity spreads faster, but negativity lingers longer. It's a similar principle to unstoppable force VS immovable object.

This is mostly general info-- I'll probs have another post for the gang's actual group dynamic!

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog

Cross belongs to Jakei95

Killer belongs to Rahafwabas

Dust belongs to Ask-Dusttale

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katanablue · 11 months ago

Text

I originally had a totally different idea for this but I think I may just do a part 2 hehehe. ALSO IF ANYONE GOT ANY GOOD 07 DONNIE FICS ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Warnings: NONE JUST DONNIE BEING A CUTE GRUMPY DORK.

Another day another long boring shift full of talking to idiotic people who don’t know the difference between hardware and software and explaining to one too many elderly people that ‘No, you cannot print out the Internet.’

He’s just finished a call, rubbing the space between his eyes as he feels his daily headache come on. He’s impressed that he’s managed to nearly finish his workday without it appearing until now. He groans low in his throat, debating on getting up to grab a glass of water so he can take a pill or just sucking it up these last 30 minutes.

He gets his answer when an incoming call rings through his headset, making Donnie roll his eyes hard and into the back of his skull. He inhales deeply through his nose to prepare himself, letting it out when he clicks on a key to answer the phone.

“Thank you for calling tech support, this is Donatello speaking, how can I help you today.” He doesn’t bother putting on his customer service voice, his headache dully throbbing now as he waits for the other person on the line to start rambling about their dumb issue.

“Hi, how are you today?” You say, giving the standard pleasantries before delving into your computer issue.

Typical, of course his last call would try to make small talk.

“I’m fine ma’am, thank you. How can I help you today?” He repeats it, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again and leans back in his chair, swaying gently side to side. He thinks about what he should eat after, his eyes trailing to the clock in the Lair that signifies in big red letters that it’s nearly 2 a.m. Not the latest he’s stayed up but today’s shift was particularly exhausting. Maybe it’s the full moon or something, ‘Mercury in Gatorade’ as Mikey would sometimes call it.

“Hello?”

Shit. He totally just fucking zoned out on you.

“Apologies ma’am, I didn’t quite catch that. Would you mind repeating it?” Great, he just extended this call by about 2 minutes.

“Oh, that’s alright! I’m dealing with an issue with my laptop’s ability to open programs fast. It’s taking forever just to open something and I’m not quite sure why.” You repeat your issue, quietly sighing as you aimlessly move your mouse around your screen, hoping that the guy on the other side will be able to help with you.

Donnie immediately knows what the problem could be; slow processing speeds a fairly common issue for him but thankfully an easy fix.

So he starts by asking the standard questions: do you have any programs that take a lot of space? Any tabs open that you aren’t using? Anything running in the background?

When you tell him ‘no, no and no’, that’s when he sits up from his chair and squints his eyes. If those aren’t the cause of your laptops slow speed then what could it be?

“Well,”

Ah, there it is.

“I do play a few games but those have never caused me problems before. Could that be it?”

Normally Donatello’s irritation would increase when the customer would ‘suddenly remember’ something that could be pausing their problem. You, however? Didn’t spark that within him for some reason. In fact, besides your calm demeanor, it’s the way you spoke so kindly to him combined with the fact that you also game apparently that has Donnie not wanting to snap at you.

“Like what?” He asks, being sure to keep it professional.

And when you list his all time favorite game among some others that he’s obsessed with, he has to practically force himself to not totally geek out. Sure he’s played some of the popular games nowadays like League or Valorant, but hearing you say that you modded some old PS1 games to play on your laptop practically skyrockets his excitement.

Which in turn makes his headache pound harder.

He’s unable to keep himself from hissing when a pang shoots right through his skull, knowing you heard it when you trail off your sentence.

“Are you alright?”

Maybe it’s because he’s had a long day or maybe it’s because this seems to be shifting into a migraine, but the concern and sincerity in your voice makes an odd feeling bubble in Donnie’s chest. Surely no one would ever be genuinely worried over an I.T guy, not when you have more pressing matters on your hands.

“My apologies miss, I’m just uh, dealing with a bit of a headache right now. Although I think it’s turning into a migraine.” He grunts through his clenched jaw, swinging carefully around in his chair as he searches for his bottle of Advil only to suck his teeth when he shakes the container and hears absolutely nothing rattling around.

“Oh no, I’m sorry! Do you want to go grab some medicine? I don’t mind waiting.”

The corner of Donnie’s lip twitches upward. He brings his hands to massage at his temples, the motions doing something to relieve the tension in his head but not nearly enough.

“I unfortunately just discovered that I’m out of medicine. But that’s alright, I’ll pick some up after this call.” He doesn’t bother hiding his sigh, settling back in his seat as he prepares to ask you more questions to help you out.

“What about any oils? Got any of those? Usually lavender or peppermint do the trick.” You put him on speaker and go to your Safari on your phone to begin looking up other remedies, wanting to assist this poor I.T man.

Donnie’s not quite sure why you’re trying to be helpful but at this point he doesn’t exactly care, the throbbing getting worse by the second.

“It could also be too much pressure, literally, around your head. Do you wear headbands or anything like that? Could also be your headphones.”

“No, no headbands. And my headphones have cushioning all around so not those either.” He responds, debating on texting Mikey to bring him the peppermint oil that April bought for Splinter last Christmas.

“Ah, a man of comfort.” You laugh, fingers quickly typing in your question into the search engine.

Donnie finds himself smiling faintly at the sound, a fleeting thought of ‘Wow, I want to hear that again’ passing through his brain.

“Well, I can’t use regular headphones for gaming. I’m also a fan of those games that you play.”

You blink in surprise, your scrolling faltering for half a second before continuing on.

“No way, really?”

And so you talk for the next 20 minutes about said games; reliving memories, talking about specific moments you wish you could experience again, the soundtracks, the characters. Everything.

For the first 10 minutes, Donnie kept reminding himself that he was just prolonging his work call, that he should drive the focus back onto your issue so he can hang up and clock out. But the more he talked to you, the more he said ‘fuck it’ and allowed himself this one rare moment of normalcy.

He also nearly forgot about his raging migraine, until it pleasantly reminded him that it was still present with a sharp stabbing pain behind his eyes.

It’s what snaps him back to reality, his face grimacing from the white hot torment happening in his skull.

“I’m so sorry, we should really get back to your computers issues.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

God, why did he feel so awful saying that? And why did it make his stomach twist when hearing just how disappointed you sounded? It’s something he’ll have to dissect later, not when he’s already 30 minutes past the standard call time for support.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here.”

This is one of the rare times Donnie wishes he wasn’t so smart with technology because in less than 5 minutes he solves your problem. He wishes he could just be a little average to talk to you more even if it’s computer stuff.

“Alright, you shouldn’t have a problem anymore. Anything else I can help you with?”

Please say yes please say yes please say yes.

“No, I’m all good. Thank so much Donatello!”

“Donnie! You can call me Donnie.”

Fuck.

“Just your friendly I.T tech support here to help you 24 hours a day.”

Double fuck.

Why did he say that? It’s standard spiel protocol but still, how utterly lame…

You can’t help but giggle at him, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much from this total stranger.

“Alright then, Donnie. I’ll know who to ask for if I ever need help again.”

He smiles and asks for your name, just so he’ll know who he’s talking to if you ever do call again. He repeats it back to you once you tell him, the word rolling off his tongue in such a way that makes you feel giddy and grinning like a kid in a candy store.

“Have a good night, please don’t hesitate to call back if you’re still experiencing technical difficulties.”

And by Darwin he hopes you do.

#tmnt #tmnt 2007 #donatello x reader #2007 donnie #my writings

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semischarmed · 1 year ago

Text

Danny

Always have to keep you guys guessing ;) so this one is veeeeery different from my normal content, but I figured I’d put something tamer to balance out the upcoming Pt. 2 to that Thread story. It’s a bit long, but I didn’t feel like keeping two concurrent multi-parters. Let me know what you think!

=============

“So, it’s the necklace?” I asked the professor at the university. It was a wonder I was able to keep up with even half of the lecture that had just transpired.

“Something like that.” The professor replied back to our small group. “We’re all just a sea of electrical impulses. With this computer model, we can accurately track and mimic the exact electrical shocks needed to replicate a mind. Of course, the mind is so much data, the transfer-the upload needs to be instantaneous with an equivalent download- the university doesn’t give us enough grant money for computers that can store that much data, much less secure it. So, we needed biological means of storage. That’s why there’s an even number of participants”.

The room was utterly confused. For one, there was definitely an odd number of participants. Dr. Cohn was never known for dumbing down complex concepts, but even the smartest kids in class seemed stumped the past few hours. Maybe he didn’t have to go in that level of depth for his experiment.

Our group was a mix. It seemed like a sampling of the very best of the class, and a few average performers. I did find it weird they offered extra credit to students that probably didn’t need it. Sticking out like a sore thumb was Chad. He was the school quarterback, though no one was sure for much longer, as he was on academic probation. I couldn’t help but speculate with Kat, a top performer, on his placement. Combining our limited knowledge on the students in our class, and the school’s football team, we landed on this being some sort of extra credit that the university probably forced on poor Dr. Cohn. Ever the nosy one, Mackenzie piped in. “Of course they’d try to save their star quarterback. I heard 3 professors already quit trying to bring up his GPA. This is basically his last shot“.

And then there was Danny. Part of that “very best” group. Unlike the other students in the room, he seemed to take in the professor’s whole lecture and was deep in thought. His face lay still, serene. But I could see the intelligence behind his eyes spinning to life. I always liked when he did that, like he was chewing on an idea before spitting out the most brilliant insights. Or maybe I just like how the corner of his mouth would turn up into a small smile when he finished thinking things through. I caught myself staring again, thanking my luck that no one had seen. Mackenzie laughed a little behind me. I sighed, laughing a small defeat. Almost no one had seen.

“So it basically swaps our brains?” Danny inquired. He looked around the room, gauging our comprehension. That was when it clicked for me. He took note and let out a small smile. I smiled back. That was the other thing I liked about the guy. He always seemed to want everyone to succeed. This wasn’t the first time he’d thoroughly condense a difficult topic into a quick word or phrase the class could understand. His eyes smiled whenever he could recognize concepts “clicking” for people and I saw it do the same as my other classmates- even Chad- figured it out. I recoiled a little, from a nudge from Mackenzie. I sighed again, airing a “thank you” her way. I had been staring again.

“No, nothing like that! Could you imagine how difficult an operation like that would be? All this does is swap your mind.” Aaaand just like that, we were back to confusion. Danny smiled though.

“Got it. So your brain’s the hardware, your mind’s the software. The necklaces do a switcheroo and then new hardware, same software- or, vice versa, I suppose.” Back on track.

“Wait, how much of ‘me’ is in the hardware? Like my memories?” I blurted out, immediately growing red. That seemed to have garnered an approving smile from Danny. I grew redder.

The professor’s eyes lit up. “Now you’re thinking like a scientist.” He laughed before shrugging. “Who’s to say… we are running an experiment after all”. Dr. Cohn always was a messy one.

“So, uh, how long is it supposed to last?” Mackenzie asked.

“That’s the fun of it, once we’re paired, the switch can go for as little or as long you as want!” We. That threw me off a little. I caught his glance to Chad. “Don’t worry, I’ll be a part of this experiment too.” The professor said, with a smile that felt too wide. “Don’t forget to record your notes and thoughts into this log book. For privacy, they’ve been password protected- we’ll reconvene this little group in a year and just draft up a summary of your experiences from these books.”

There was an obvious question everyone’s mind. Thankfully, Kevin asked it. “So who’s swapping with who?”

The professor’s eyes lit up in excitement. “We’ve all been paired, randomized of course. I’ll leave the pairings to figure out when they’d want to swap. Just put on your necklaces at 6pm tonight and start your log books. After that, whenever either of you squeezes your necklace, the swap will ensue”. From the way the professor’s eyes kept darting to Chad, something told me it hadn’t been entirely random.

I thought through the possible pairings. Kevin was kind of cute, I guess. Though I wasn’t sure if it was just the airport effect with how limited our group size was. Kat or Mackenzie would just be weird. Mackenzie especially- that girl knows a little too much about me and lord knows what she’d do behind my wheel. Running down the list of people, there was Chad. Of course, who wouldn’t want to be in Chad’s shoes- I had to dispel a dirty thought that passed my mind. Everyone’s probably thinking it. The professor’s body wouldn’t be too bad either, I could always just pressure the faculty into giving me better grades, maybe boost the grades of my friends. And then there was Danny. Danny. My heartrate shot up instantly.

Sitting in my dorm room, I looked at the clock with a bit of fear. “5:55 pm,” it read. I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm my nerves. “5:59 pm”. Nope. There was nothing calm about this. I closed my eyes shut, as I felt the necklace whir a little. Looks like someone else already squeezed it.

Zzzip

=============

“Log book 1:

It was Danny. Holy fuck, I got to be in Danny.”

I stared at the journal entry. That was all I could manage to write with my shaking hands. I could hardly believe it. A lifetime can change in 5 minutes, apparently. My heart was still beating and my face still flushed when we switched back. He had a soccer game so our first meeting had to be short.

My first minute was just looking down at my new Danny-worn hands, breathing through his lungs, inhaling as much as I could of his room. I wanted to commit this man to memory. My logic-or, Danny’s logic perhaps, told me there would inevitably be more swaps to come, but my mind wouldn’t have it. Whatever piece of Danny I could get, however minuscule, I wanted to stretch every moment infinite.

I felt a sense of guilt wash over me, as my new Danny-worn package began to harden when I realized he was in soccer gear. I tried to shake off the feeling- I couldn’t do that to him. Then came the text. I recognized the number of course, it was my old body’s. “Hey man, glad to see we’re partners”. My heart stirred. “It’s Danny, but you probably already knew that”. To see him text me so casually froze me in place. “Anyways, I do have a game coming up, mind if we switch back?” I couldn’t even bring Danny’s hands to answer himself. “I’ll take that as a yes”.

Zzzip

And just like that, I was back. My hand clinging to my chest, breaths ragged.

Wait, Fuck. Was I still hard in his body when we switched back?

=============

Zzzip

“Log book 7:

Met up today. Joint gym day.

Gym feels better in Danny’s body. Unsure if exercise has a different effect on people’s bodies, or if it’s tied to our minds. Seems to be a lag in my emotions.”

I’m not really one to be consistent with exercise. I set the book down, and relocked it, panting as I had in our first switch, but this time due to Danny working my body to the brink.

I think he noticed, because he apologized profusely when I slumped in the bench to catch my breath in the locker room.

I can’t believe I had agreed to it. Danny wanted to test the effects of exercise with different bodies. He stated he wanted to see what it was like doing routine exercises in a different body. Does the body retain that physical memory? Or is it the mind? I only agreed because it was Danny. So, there I was, in the school gym staring at the door like a fish out of water.

I felt a reassuring hand on my back before my ears immediately shot red when I realized whose hand it was. “Do you have your log book on hand? Should probably write down notes immediately after the switchback”. I immediately panicked at thought that he wanted to compare notes, thinking back to my first entry but he seemed to have caught on to my thought process and immediately dismissed the idea. “It wouldn’t make sense to taint the data with outside factors. Danny was probably the only person that fully understood the professor’s entire experiment so I took his word for it.

When we swapped, I had to focus on not instantly growing hard. For someone seemingly so bookish, the guy was surprisingly fit. Walking to the treadmill, I felt every muscle brimming with power. My first run in his body. Euphoric. Danny was a well-oiled machine. Every component moving in tandem. Lungs drawing in and out powerful gusts of air. Eyes staring me in the mirror, furrowed in powerful determination, and legs gliding with a grace that did not diminish the power behind each foot. I lost myself in the exercise, content to just being inside his body, guided by his body. I finished the run with a heavy pant, knowing full well I’d be hard beyond belief at what lay before me. I eyed myself in the mirror, in sweat-laden body of my crush. The scent was indescribable. Like a pleasant musk basking in the damp earth. Was it always this good? Was this how other people felt when they exercised? I twirled the necklace around Danny’s neck, making sure to not squeeze, mentally thanking whatever gods there may be for this experience.

I looked back at Danny, in my body. His running form was a bit clumsy, but there was a confidence in them that I didn’t often see in myself. Maybe a trick of the light, or residual feelings from the run I just had but I was captivated. I honestly looked almost cute like this.

He finished, panting before immediately pulling out his book and writing a few notes. He beamed back at me, pointing at the necklace. Even in my body, that smile was unmistakably his. I smiled back, ready to swap once more.

Zzzip

Weird. I still felt the infatuation. I looked back at the body I had just inhabited, still feeling the butterflies in my stomach. It was Danny so I was used to those, but not immediately after a swap. The past few times it always took a second or two to readjust. Danny looked at me, a bit uncomfortable. No doubt it had been from the grave face I was making. I shook my head, not wanting to worry him. Or worse, force a premature end to this experience. “It’s nothing, just a hell of an exercise haha”.

This may be a bit of a problem.

=============

“Interesting, and you’re sure it’s residual feeling?” Said a slightly disinterested Chad, eyeing his dreamy biceps.

“Yes, when I.. uh.. felt angry in his body and switched back, my body did too.”

“Well it is a swap, of course so your mind returning to its body would feel the same things it felt…” The professor in chad’s body spoke in a slightly faraway tone, like there was something he’d rather be doing. “Though, it shouldn’t be this instant. It’s not physically possible unless…”

I winced, worried for the worst and hoping to remain Danny’s partner.

“This might be a bit of an issue if those necklaces are defective…” He then mumbled something about permanent effects on the mind. “If they are, we’d have to stop the entire experiment. It wouldn’t be right-“ The professor caught a glimpse of Chad’s body in the reflection of his door before looking back at me. “Look, maybe just limit the swaps to low pressure situations, and try to avoid high-emotion situations in case your ‘residual’ hypothesis is correct. Cause if that were true, it would mean you leave a little of yourself every time you swap.”

“Got it, professor”.

“Maybe keep this side effect a little secret for now. We wouldn’t want the others worrying and tainting the data,” Chad’s body spoke in an authoritative tone as his hands sauntered below the desk. “Oh, and please close the door on your way out“.

=============

“Log book 50:

Pain.”

We had been swapping fairly frequently, despite the professor’s warning. Danny was a drug I couldn’t shake. The guy was my kryptonite and he had no idea. Everytime we swapped, every moment we shared, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him about the professor’s words. Every swap back, I could feel my heart beating as wildly as my first time, stomach churning pleasantly. It was like a wave of sweetness whenever I had a chance to be Danny. Then, the guilt came soon after.

Danny seemed to like the spontaneity. Eventually, we settled on free-switching, aside from classes. Some days, I’d randomly switch and my eyes would focus on my homework, completed with a little smiley face drawn on the corner. I tried that little trick with him once, only to get a text back of his graded assignment, scored uncharacteristically low for the top performer, followed by another text “Nice try anyway lol”

=============

“Log book 190:

I hate you.”

Zzzip

“Danny, is something wrong?” The shock of the situation stopped me from initially processing anything I was seeing. My clumsy hands. I had been fumbling with my collar, when I accidentally initiated a swap. A wave of embarrassment hit, and then anger. Seething, bottomless anger.

I almost dropped the flowers Danny’s body had been handing her. Without explanation, I quickly squeezed the necklace to send me back.

Zzzip

I sat in stunned silence for a second, before the anger drew me back to my thoughts.

Who was I angry at? Of course it was a girl. He had to have been dating around. It was presumptuous to even think we were anything more than partners in a crazed professor’s experiment. And yet, I was still angry. Irrationally angry at Danny for not picking up on the hints, maybe angry at the professor for dragging me into this mess in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself.

I felt the buzz of a text, ears still heated. Danny again. “You ok?”

I sighed as reasoning took over and anger transformed into sadness. I wrote a quick note in the log book, then pulled my phone up before texting back. “Yeah”.

“Lol Claudia says hi”, came a text back. I gritted my teeth, not wanting to impart any jealousy in my response, but I was soon stopped by another text.

“If you wanted to meet my sister, you should have just asked lol”.

=============

“Log book 290

I’m stupid. I’m sorry. I’m stupid. I’m sorry.”

I’m so sorry. I said to Danny in my head, as I slumped in my chair. You’re so fucking stupid. I told myself. These past few months swapping back and forth with Danny had been a dream.

From something as simple swapping before brushing his teeth to even taking a class as him. I savored every single moment.

But as the experiment had been drawing to a close, and as I felt my time nearing and my guilt intensifying, other, less kind thoughts bubbled in my head.

What if I did ‘that’ in his body. What if I did it while thinking of my own body. I gulped. Danny didn’t know, and from what I could tell, he hadn’t suspected a thing. “Maybe I could make him like me.” Even just saying it out loud felt like a taboo. I could just imagine Danny’s disapproving face as I pondered corrupting our newfound friendship, and corrupting him at his core.

The devil on my shoulder continued. We’ve been swapping all this time. And he doesn’t notice. My dick stirred. He wouldn’t notice and you could train his body to fall in love with you.

No. No. I couldn’t do that to Danny. I eyed the near approaching date on the calendar- the date the experiment would end- and I gulped again. I pulled up a photo of him.

Darkness gripped at my chest, as I pondered my next step. And then I squeezed.

“Danny, I love you and I’m sorry.”

Zzzip

My heart, or rather Danny’s, began to beat faster and faster. I pulled up a fairly difficult puzzle before I swapped, so I knew I had some time with his flesh before he’d try to swap back.

I gingerly pulled down his shorts, staring at his bulge hungrily. Then I slowly teased out his dick, moaning at the feeling of flesh touching flesh. Being in his body, having this level of access to Danny. I was hard instantly.

It felt almost macabre, seeing his flesh move to my every whim, forced to feel my feelings. I wanted to etch myself into him as much as possible, and with every pump I moaned my original body’s name. It took all of the restraint in Danny’s body, which, apparently was a lot, to not burst. But one can only hold out so long, hearing one’s crush moan their name in delirious ecstasy. I sang my name in his resonant voice one more time, before flashing instantly to my body and back to his.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released his sticky white seed in what felt like the first cum of my life. I suppose, in a sense, it was. I hoped that sealed it. Conditioning Danny to me. The swaps were imperceptibly fast, and I took the lack of delay in emotions as a sign of success.

Zzzip Zzzip

I released a breath in Danny’s body I didn’t know I was holding, basking in the afterglow before immediately realizing what I had just done.

Guilt came out of me drop by drop. As his tears began to leave their marks on his shirt, I slowly began to clean up. The pleasure of the situation still clung to me, as I mournfully switched back. Then came another gut-wrenching wave of sadness. Danny, I’m so sorry.

I looked to the incomplete puzzle in front of me, laughing a little at his lack of progress to ease the sadness.

Then came another text from Danny. “Dude, that puzzle’s impossible”.

=============

“Log book 300:

Food definitely tastes different in a different body.”

“Look, just try them man” Danny said with a smile, holding a fry in his hand. And the necklace in another.

Only a few short days left before the experiment’s end. I made no mention of that night, nor the professor’s words to Danny.

Danny had, in fact, been coming by more often. Prompting more hangouts, initiating more switches. I was elated every time he asked. I even caught a few longer glances from his body, marinating in pleasure at seeing this new side of Danny. However happy I had been, underlying it all was the guilt of my deed.

Danny again held the fry out expectantly. I laughed slightly. “Haha, fine”.

Zzzip

I took a bite from his body. Yep, it was definitely a fry. My own body looked up at me, smiling a Danny-flavored smile before grabbing the half-bitten fry. “Now let’s control for this variable. Same fry,” he said, wiggling it in the air.

Zzzip

I stared at the fry covered in a bit of his saliva. Heaven. I looked back at him and nodded. As we parted ways, I couldn’t help my smile from peeking through.

He was right, it did taste better on my end.

=============

“So, we’re not getting paid”? I asked Danny, as we sat in the table. He had a few wine glasses in front.

It had been a full year since the experiment first started. Despite the general weirdness from the other groups swapping, everyone had been relatively well adjusted. Except for Chad, or whatever he’d be called now. A swapped Kat couldn’t help but spill the beans. Apparently, the professor had no obligation to offer the guy extra credit. He specifically targeted the quarterback for his experiment. What’s worse, he’d apparently created a newer version of the necklace. One that could overwrite and transmit. Chad’s frat brothers mentioned he was offered another credit for participating in a second experiment for this new necklace. After that, no one had seen either person. The pair had mysteriously disappeared, leaving the school scrambling to cover up everything. All most of us knew was one day we suddenly had perfect grades retroactively added for the past year, along with a very scary letter prompting a signature.

“The university isn’t going to do anything about this.” He said. I was still skeptical as I slowly eyed one of the wine bottles that once graced former Dr. Cohn’s shelf. “It’s the least they could do for all those, ethics violations”. He pulled the cork with a satisfying pop, a mischievous gleam in his eye as he handed me a glass. “Now c’mon, try this”.

I suppose alcohol had a way of loosening me up. “So…. we’re not getting paid”? I asked again, sarcastically this time. It had been a year, so talking to Danny felt easy. I thought back to my log book, fully intending on burning the thing. Danny shook his head.

“Hard to put a price on crimes against humanity. Or, something like that” he laughed. “The university just said to dump everything and basically forget that experiment ever happened.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as well. I shrugged, knowing money or even perfect grades for a year held no candle to the experience of a lifetime I just had with Danny. I was afraid of the answer, but it had to be asked. “What should we do with these things?” I asked, looking at the necklace still gracing his beautiful neck. His eyebrows raised as he saw the same necklace gracing mine.

“I mean, by now, you’re pretty used to it, right?” He asked with an almost pleading look in his eye. There was something bugging him. I watched as he fiddled with his feet. “Maybe…” His ears turned bright red. It was riveting finally seeing this side oh him. More than that, it was downright cute. “M-Maybe” he stammered again. Danny took a deep breath to calm himself, though his scarlet face told all. “Maybe we can keep. Um. Swapping. Sometimes, sometimes I like being you, and sometimes I kind of like when you’re me.” He looked at me and smiled weakly, trying to change the subject. “A-Anyway, you need a place to stay next year, r-right? It kind of feels like we’ve already been roommates these past 12 months, what’s another 12?” His sweet words did nothing the dampen the guilt I felt in my betrayal. In any other circumstance, I’d have died happy just hearing that confession from him. Instead I could only think back to the professors words. I did live, at least partially, in Danny throughout this past year. It felt like a betrayal of myself to not come clean.

“Danny, listen. I think I need to tell you first, in your body…” My breath hastened, and I felt my stomach churn. How do you tell a guy what you’ve done with his body- *in* his body? Danny’s face frowned in concern as my bubbling emotions seemed to knock him out of his quick spell of shyness.

He smiled a little. “Look man, whatever you’ve done in my body, I’ve probably done too.” His smile widened. “Your body is mine, my body is yours. Call it even”. More words that would have swept me off my feet, had I not been confessing. More torture ensued.

“I went to the professor about it a few months ago and never told you” I continued. I was practically holding back tears. “Our necklaces were bugged, I think”.

“The professor said…” I gulped. “It was possible that when we switch, our minds don’t come through all at once.” Now tears did begin to swell. “You know how it’s supposed to take a second for your emotions to catch up. Well, when we switch, I still feel the same emotions…”. I gulped. “Since day 1, I think I’ve overwritten your, um, preferences”. Danny’s poker face felt like a dagger in my heart. It’s a face I often made in his body when I was in deep thought, so I knew he had to have been processing to the same conclusion. I could practically see the gear turning in his head. Click.

Face still an enigma, Danny waited a moment and then asked a simple question. “When did you tell the professor?” Click.

I sniffled as I laid it bare in front of him. “5 months ago. Danny, I’m sorry! I dunno, I just thought maybe… maybe if we kept switching, if our minds kept being in each other’s bodies. Maybe if a little piece of how I felt kept lagging behind, you might have-“ Now the gear was fully spinning and I saw the realization hit his face. I had no idea what he was going to do. Punch me? Maybe. Run away in disgust? Likely. Instead, Daniel had done something equally surprising. His hand rested on my shoulder in a reassuring fashion. Then that same hand motioned me forward.

My memory of the next moment felt like a million moments in one. It was something so outside my realm of possibilities, my brain simply couldn’t process. The whiplash hit my senses all at once. Sweet but a bit salty. A moment of quietness before the background sounds of the campus slowly drizzled back in. The scent of fresh laundry and damp earth. My eyes took even longer to adjust from black to red to an image slowly refocussing. Last was my brain, which had been stunned into silence. I sat back in shock, repeating the same phrase over and over in my head. Danny just kissed me.

He laughed, eyes twinkling and mouth pulled into a smile, beaming in the way that always made my heart swoon. “That theory’s bogus. Trust me. I haven’t felt any different”. He smiled again, sheepishly this time, before fishing something from his backpack’s large pocket. He looked at the item in front of him, hand slightly shaking in hesitation before making his decision. Slowly, he held up his own log book, flipped to the very first page:

“Log Book 1:

<3 ”

=============

#Male body swap #body swap

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the-seelie-court-official · 1 year ago

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i feel like our data is being sold to people who can't even use it because the data itself is considered valuable, like a cryptocurrency. do you follow? most of the data is just junk. it means nothing. of course there's bad actors and surveillance programs but i doubt they're getting Anything useful, much less -actionable- on the average user.

and that's why windows (etc) are introducing ai scrapers to try and pry up more data on the average user. data, even though it's junk data, is pretty much the only thing you can sell that isn't one-off sales of hardware. software is all subscriptions-based because buying it once isn't a growth-minded model.

advertisers buy data to make 'more effective' ads that still dont work and get served to irrelevant people, but advertisers are the only ones who can be relied on to continually pour money into a pit. it's all junk, it's all useless computations wasting clean water and electricity to generate money from bullshit. i.e., it's all cryptocurrency

#memos from the embassy

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tccicomputercoaching · 5 months ago

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Networking Tips for Students Getting Started in the IT Sector

Entering the IT industry is very exciting and at the same time very daunting for students. Technical skills are very important, but networking is an important part of one's opportunity and career growth. This is the motto by which the TCCI Computer Coaching Institute believes and teaches the students to build strong connections and prepare them for a bright future in the IT field. Some of these networking tips will help students starting their careers in IT.

1. Start Early And Have An Inquisitive Mind

Start networking both off-campus and on-campus. Attend workshops, seminars, and hackathons by institutions such as TCCI; meet professionals and fellow students. Curiosity and having the desire to learn will make you stand out and leave a mark on industry experts.

2. Make Use of Social Media Platforms

LinkedIn, GitHub, and Twitter are fantastic tools for IT professionals right here. A profile dedicated to your projects, certifications, and skills should be made. At TCCI, our trainers will guide students on how to build profiles that will really make a difference and help them connect into the profession online.

3. Join IT Communities and Forums

Become an active member of IT forums, online coding communities, and local tech meetups. Participate in discussions, post solutions, and ask for help. This will not only improve your knowledge but also create a good network with similar-minded people.

4. Build Real Relationships

Networking is not about business cards or adding connections at LinkedIn; it is about building good relationships. Show genuine interest in other people's works and ask questions, if possible. Offer help wherever you can. At TCCI, importance is given to the soft skill development of students to help them build strong authentic relations.

6. Seek a Mentor

Find a mentor who is going to help you untangle the broadest parts of your journey in the IT world. The biggest perk of a mentor is that they offer real-life insight and share vital experiences, opening doors through networking opportunities. At TCCI, our experienced faculty prop up the entire mentor framework for its students.

7. Show off Your Work

Share the projects, blogs, or tutorials that you did online. Using platforms such as GitHub and Medium will help in showcasing your talent to the global IT platform. Real-time projects are being taken up at TCCI by students and showcased by it, itself.

8. Follow Up and Stay in Touch

After you meet someone at an event or online, immediately follow up with a thank-you email or message. Enter your network's daily life by commenting on their posts, sharing any valuable content, or keeping them updated on your achievements.

9. Join Alumni Networks

Stay connected to the alumni of your school or college. Alumni networks contain buckets of resources, advice, and jobs. TCCI's alumni are sitting in numerous IT domains and help current students build their careers.

10. Continue Learning and Upskilling

Continuous learning is the foundation stone in the IT industry. , workshop, and webinars are the present training courses that keep you aware of the latest technology. Here at TCCI, we provide training in programming, web development, database management, and many other courses so that students remain necks and necks in this global competition.

Art involves the first phase of time and constant dedication; networking is not an exception. These tips can help TCCI Computer Coaching Institute students build even a better external network that would serve them well later on for a successful IT career. Remember, from today's seed, the tree will grow- your network is your net worth!

Location: Ahmedabad, Gujarat

Call now on +91 9825618292

Get information from https://tccicomputercoaching.wordpress.com/

#Best Computer Training Institutes Bopal Ahmedabad #Hardware Networking Course In Ahmedabad #Software Training Institutes in Ahmedabad #TCCI - Tririd Computer Coaching Institute #TCCI-Best computer classes in Ahmedabad

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river-taxbird · 1 year ago

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Have YOU got an old Windows PC Microsoft has told you can't run Windows 11? It's time to give it a new life!

How to install Windows 11 on unsupported PC Hardware using Rufus. You can also disable some other Windows 11 bullshit like data harvesting and needing a Microsoft account.

It has been in the news a lot lately that Windows 11 isn't allowed to be installed on PCs without certain requirements, including the TPM 2.0, a chip that was only included in PCs made in 2018 or later. This means that once Windows 10 stops receiving security updates, those PCs will not be able to (officially) run a safe, updated version of Windows anymore. This has led to an estimated 240 million PCs bound for the landfill. Thanks Microsoft! I get you don't want to be seen as the insecure one, but creating this much waste can't be the solution.

(I know nerds, Linux is a thing. I love you but we are not having that conversation. If you want to use Linux on an old PC you are already doing it and you don't need to tell me about it. People need Windows for all sorts of reasons that Linux won't cut.)

So lately I have been helping some under privileged teens get set up with PCs. Their school was giving away their old lab computers, and these kids would usually have no chance to afford even a basic computer. They had their hard drives pulled so I have been setting them up with SSDs, but the question was, what to do about the operating system? So I looked into it and I found out there IS actually a way to bypass Microsoft's system requirement and put Windows 11 on PCs as old as 2010.

You will need: Rufus: An open source ISO burning tool.

A Windows 11 ISO: Available from Microsoft.

A USB Flash Drive, at least 16GB.

A working PC to make the ISO, and a PC from 2018 or older you want to install Windows 11 on.

Here is the guide I used, but I will put it in my own words as well.

Download your Windows 11 ISO, and plug in your USB drive. It will be erased, so don't have anything valuable on it. Run Rufus, select your USB drive in the Device window, and select your Windows 11 ISO with the Select button. (There is supposed to be a feature in Rufus to download your ISO but I couldn't get it to work.?

Choose standard windows installation, and follow the screenshot for your settings. Once you are done that, press Start, and then the magic happens. Another window pops up allowing you to remove the system requirements, the need for a microsoft account, and turn off data collecting. Just click the options you want, and press ok to write your iso to a drive.

From there you just need to use the USB drive to install windows. I won't go into details here, but here are some resources if you don't know how to do it.

Boot your PC from a USB Drive

Install Windows 11 from USB Drive

If you had a licensed copy of Windows 10, Windows 11 will already be licensed. If you don't, then perhaps you can use some kind of... Activation Scripts for Microsoft software, that will allow you to activate them. Of course I cannot link such tools here. So there you go, now you can save a PC made from before 2018 from the landfill, and maybe give it to a deserving teen in the process. The more we can extend the lives of technology and keep it out of the trash, the better.

Additional note: This removes the requirement for having 4GB Minimum of RAM, but I think that requirement should honestly be higher. Windows 11 will be unusable slow on any system with below 8GB of RAM. 8GB is the minimum I think you should have before trying this but it still really not enough for modern use outside of light web and office work. I wouldn't recommend trying this on anything with 4GB or less. I am honestly shocked they are still selling brand new Windows 11 PCs with 4GB of ram. If you're not sure how much RAM you have, you can find out in the performance tab of Task Manager in Windows, if you click the More Details icon on the bottom right. If you don't have enough, RAM for old systems is super cheap and widely available so it would definitely be worth upgrading if you have a ram starved machine you'd like to give a new life.

#Windows #Windows 11 #tech #tech advice #pc #TPM 2.0 #rufus #open source #open source software #technology #tech tips

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le-chevalier-au-lion · 7 months ago

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cannot dream of returning to dust: marcnaia [m]

Marc dabs the corner of his mouth. It’s blood—stark, rusting, red.

He looks at Pecco. Startles after a disjointed moment like an old, whirring computer, too little hardware to contain the leaden software of his racing instincts and the bike data. And his soul too, but Pecco isn’t one for theatrics as much as he is for punishment.

“You alright?” He prods clumsily. He can’t not.

Marc shrugs—a disquieting thing to watch. Everything is half a second off, and his body jerks unevenly. “’s fine,” he spits, sharp, all at once. “Long day. But it is good.”

It was, technically.

He won.

Pecco doesn’t know how, exactly, but surely he’s long past asking that. Staring at Marc’s data is like staring at that little phial of fresh, millennia-old blood in the Naples Cathedral. And worse yet, if they tear the wiring out of Marc’s veins, Pecco thinks he’d still be Marc. Miraculous, except their kind isn’t in the business for that.

It’s not flattering. Being close to him at all isn’t flattering.

Marc keeps watching him. The whites of his eyes are too white. His fingers—carbon fiber, dented, dusted—spasm at his side, with a staticky hiss. There’s old blood on his upper lip.

“Here,” Pecco says, automatic. Hands him the towel wrapped around his neck.

One day, it won’t rake its nails through his nerves and sensors, the sheer fucking suffocating awkwardness of existing close him. Marc picks it up warily, wipes down his face twice. Pecco wants to twitch. The hardware embedded in his flesh feels like it’s groaning, overwhelmed, overheating.

“Thanks,” Marc mutters. Then: “I'm fine. You don't have to worry.”

Probably not. And probably impossible. Pecco huffs out a noise that can pass as a snort—reedy as it sounds. “Ok.”

It doesn’t settle anything.

Marc’s motorhome seems three sizes too small for them. Walls scraping against his shoulders, the ceiling too low, Marc everywhere he looks. Marc, Marc, Marc—distrusting, cagey like a kicked dog down to the hard line of his shoulders. Pecco picks at his cuticles until they bleed. The tips of his fingers ache, swollen.

The podium champagne is heavy in his stomach. He feels nauseous—faintly. Maybe they downloaded nervous puking along with his first riding augmentations.

Pecco crumbles on Marc’s sofa. He feels gritty, slow. Like there’s circuit rot in the hollow of his chest, melting his wires together and getting the signals to blur. Marc follows. Sits so close he might hear semantic errors piling up, the stutter of ram processors in overdrive.

He’s a pitiless thing through that—grabs Pecco’s hand and puts it on the crook of his elbow. The flesh one. When Pecco runs his fingers over the skin there, fragile, there’s only the faint knob of a sensor port, as familiar as the shape of his bones.

It’s too much, suddenly.

“You are excited for Sachsenring,” Pecco says. An abrupt, lumbering way out. Next weekend, more racing, easy stuff.

Marc barks out a laugh. Light, airy. “Of course.”

Of course.

“King of the ring. Right.”

It comes out—strained, maybe. Settles all under his skin with a red-hot kind of humiliation, of awe. The fans in this frenzied delirium. Ducati whispering among itself, that he’ll be splendid, glorious, like Pecco hadn’t been winning for them. As much as he humanly could, even.

The problem is that Marc might not be human—Valentino said it first, he remembers. After Argentina. That Marc is too much chromium and stainless steel and copper wirings and doesn’t care for the rest of them. There was a hanged cardboard robot in one of the Misanos, once.

Or he’s too human. The last great thing of real meat and real talent. A modern rider Agostini can admire. A rider from before the current, palatable bikes and the seamless lines of seamless implants.

“Pecco,” Marc says, urgent, gravelly.

When Pecco turns his head, Marc is right there, blinking up at him, looking miserable—pale, wan, cheeks gaunt—and handsome about it.

They’re both very good at miserable. In opposite directions.

Pecco doesn’t see it happening. It’s like an overtake—he only breathes out when it’s done and doesn’t ask questions. He curls his palm around the back of Marc’s head and kisses him. Chases the coppery bite pooling on his tongue with his own.

Marc makes a noise, hard, wanting. Then he’s on Pecco’s lap, wrangling him like a Ducati on the corners, all ten fingers digging into his shoulders. Those little flashes of pain scramble his thoughts, makes his systems fumble in every direction, frizzing.

“Can you,” Marc trails off, sighing against his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah,” Pecco mutters, halfway to delirious, the taste of blood and naked wires clinging to the insides of his cheeks.

He flips them around, presses Marc against the couch, boxing him with his knees. He knows what Marc wants—and doesn’t want to say why he knows. This is a terrible idea, but it was a terrible idea the last ten, eleven times too.

Pecco splays his thumb on the sharp cut of Marc’s cheek. He grins, waggles his eyebrows. It’s ridiculous. Doesn’t make it any less devastating when he turns his head to the side and sucks his finger into his mouth.

He tries to not think about spraying champagne on his face. Fails. Tries to not think about Marc, on his knees, lips spit shiny, and—

Fails too.

So Pecco kisses him again to stop himself, reckless, feverish, and Marc’s hands go under his shirt, the horrible red of it. He fucking hates it. The heat of Marc’s touch, how it flays him open. The mortification and amazement sizzling in his throat. The jealousy.

That Marc gets to be a mechanical haunting and still—still win. That he got bishops calling him a freak, and the Pope pleading sports to cease their fiddling into God’s own most beloved creatures, and Valentino branding him an enemy, and he just keeps going. Keeps winning. Godless twice over, and yet.

That Pecco—sleek carbon fiber, updated processors, the new deal—can replaced by an ugly, bleeding Frankenstein of wrong parts and outdated code.

“You are thinking,” Marc hums, face flushed pink and lovely, the bite of his prosthetic fingers unyielding on Pecco’s waist. It lilts like a question. “Francesco.”

“Hmmm,” he manages to pry out. He hates it a little less now. “About you.”

Marc laughs. “All bad things, I hope.”

And so Pecco laughs too—almost unwillingly. Chokes on it when Marc rocks up, grinds their cocks together.

That close to him, Pecco is washed out. Perfect, passionless.

But at least Marc is also less. There’s an electric hiss, and his entire body jolts. He’s in pain, probably. Parts two generations ahead of him and ancient wires misbehaving together.

If Pecco opened the panel on his back, he’d get to see what massacre of limits stripped and repeating signals is acting up, he thinks. What is hurting him.

Marc clings to pain like he’d cling to a naked razor, though—all maniac glee. When Pecco hesitates, hovering above him, he surges up for the kill. Bites down on his bottom lip, licks hotly into his open mouth. He’s fumbling—greedy and insistent—with his jeans.

“Marc,” Pecco tries protesting, tries slowing him.

The name breaks into a groan. Marc flattens his palm against his cock, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, his tongue between his teeth, sweat gathering along his forehead.

Fine.

Fucking fine.

He has to be in pain, and Pecco is—wired and nauseous and waiting for the moment when the spiral over second place will sharpen him. They are—it has been said—very good at their own types of torment.

Pecco gets to work on Marc’s pants, shoves his own down unceremoniously. He spits on his own palm and wraps it around both of them. It’s smooth, the good synth stuff over his ports and sensors—and, ha, isn’t that a win.

Marc relaxes a fraction. Lets out this tiny, breathy sound. He buries his face against the hollow of Pecco’s neck, his nose brushing against the small, closed panel there. His hips sway in odd lurches, rub them together anyway.

It’s good. Pecco would like to say he’s above liking it, but he isn’t. Can’t lie.

Christ.

His tongue is plastered to the roof of his mouth. He tightens his fist, sinks into the sensation of the head of his cock rubbing against the patch of rough hair between Marc’s legs. Into the absurdity of this, Marc quiet and wanting and greedy under him. Wide-eyed.

“Pecco,” he whispers, clumsily, and then cuts himself off. Kisses the wild flutter of his pulse on his neck rather than speaking.

“It’s fine,” Pecco shushes him, runs his thumb over the vein on Marc’s cock so he stops talking. He has no idea what else this could be.

Proof that they’re human, maybe. They act outside their code and don’t grind to a halt.

#marcnaia #marc marquez #pecco bagnaia #motogp #chev fics #my writing #deus ex machina by rreckoner vanillow redux remix homage #cyborg #listen the hour is dreadful horrible #but i need to get this off my hcest #before i go crazy

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thezombieprostitute · 7 months ago

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Tech Tuesday: Curtis Everett

Summary: Curtis decides to take the next step and ask if you're willing to meet offline.

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Meeting someone from online, Mentions of past bad experiences. Please let me know if I missed any.

Series Masterlist

"So, what all has been going on with your computer? Did you bring it with you?" Curtis tries to keep his tone calm. He's been eager to meet you in person for months but has worked hard to make sure you feel safe to do so and that means not pushing you into it. He tries to keep his excited fidgeting to a minimum but he's worried it just makes him look even more suspicious. He's so used to keeping his features schooled into a scowl, but that's the last thing he wants to do to you.

"Basically it'll go for a while but then start freezing, stuttering and I have to force it to shut down before I can do anything else," you answer while sipping your coffee. You can't believe his eyes are as blue as the photo he sent. "I tried to see if it was because I was running some heavy duty games and maybe I was using too much RAM. I cleaned up so many programs, uninstalled a bunch of games I don't play anymore, but it just keeps happening."

Curtis rubs his beard as he thinks. "It might be a hardware issue. It's not my strong suit, but I can still take a look. At the very least I can ask my buddy, Mace, for help. He's a whiz with the hardware and could probably get you a good deal if any upgrades are needed."

"Oh yeah, you've talked about him before," you reassure yourself. Having him mention another stranger worried you but Mace has been brought up several times before, especially when Curtis mentioned getting upgraded tech.

"You definitely don't have to meet him," Curtis affirms. "He can be a real grump. And coming from me, that's saying something." He gives a light chuckle as he sips his coffee.

"Snow, I work at a hospital," you counter. "Ain't no kind of grump I haven't had to deal with before." You give Curtis a look that says 'I'm stronger than you'.

Curtis smiles fully, "absolutely fair, Heart." He struggles a little bit to not turn shy. That look, that strength, that self-assured smile has him weak in the knees. "Still," he coughs, trying to regain control of himself. "Still, uh, when...did you bring the computer with you? Would this be an okay time to take a look at it?"

"Friend of mine at the library is keeping an eye on it for me." Best to let him know you've got allies nearby. He hasn't really given anything to make you worry about, but his reactions to your safety protocols could be telling. Of course, if you were expecting him to look scared or upset at this news, Curtis happily defied those expectations as his eyes lit up.

"Oh, that's really smart! We can borrow one of their laptops to run some tests. That way my laptop's settings won't mess with your computer."

You smile, genuinely, for the first time all day. Curtis is very different and you couldn't be happier about it.

"Don't you need your diagnostic software?"

"If it's called for, sure. The basic versions are free to download and they'll help me pick up if it's actually a software issue. Plus, the libraries regularly wipe downloads after use, right?"

"Okay, everything's plugged in so let's get this running and see what happens."

After looking over the hardware Curtis had found no obvious reasons for the failure so you had gone to your friend and loaned out one of the laptops. Curtis's computer bag had an impressive collection of tools, wires and connectors. You always appreciate when a person is prepared.

He works in relative silence and it gives you the chance to really look at him. He's definitely handsome, as Cassandra pointed out when she loaned you laptop. You weren't normally one for lip piercings but it seemed to work well on him, even though it was partially hidden by his beard.

The quiet between you two isn't so uncomfortable. It's how you spent a lot of time when you started gaming together. Talking over comms almost always resulted in a bunch of idiots either hitting on you, calling you a 'fake gamer,' lobbing insults at you, or all three at the same time. Snowpiercer was one of the few gamers who didn't care that you were a girl gamer. For him it was about how well you worked together. Given that the two of you could get high scores without having to talk over comms, it was no wonder the two of you started playing together more and more.

Even after you'd started voice chatting while playing, there was always a level of respect. Something you hadn't gotten from Chase.

Curtis gets out of the chair and gets a closer look at each of the fans, stopping at the one closest to the heat sink. "There it is," he intones. "This fan is dying. It's easy to miss because, by the time you know something's wrong, the whole computer's shut down and all the fans are stopped."

"Well, at least it's an easy fix," you comment. "Thanks for taking a look at it."

"Not a problem at all," he assures. "I'm happy to help."

You smile, "are you always this nice?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Definitely not. I'm not an ass, but I'm definitely not this nice to everyone."

"I'm honored."

He chuckles at that. "Like I said, I'm happy to help you out. You're the best teammate I've ever had and it just isn't as fun paying without you."

"I appreciate that, Curtis. So, what do I owe you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't do that to me, Snow. You know how I feel about owing people." It was a wound from Chase that had yet to heal. His use of favors as manipulation made you wary of anyone who said you don't owe anything.

Curtis sighs and nods. "Tell you what, there are some pastries at that coffee shop we were at that I avoided because I didn't want you to see me covered in crumbs. Wouldn't make for a good first impression." You smile at the thought. "Just get me a couple of those while I shut everything down here and return the laptop?"

"Deal." You stand to get moving but turn to him before you leave, "and thank you, again. Not just for the computer fix, but for...for respecting the boundaries."

He looks at you with those gorgeous blue eyes, "not a problem."

Tech Tuesday Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly; @stellar-solar-flare

#tech tuesday #tech tuesday: curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x nurse!reader #curtis everett x female!reader

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