#image recognition app

[jcmarchi]

Disney Research Offers Improved AI-Based Image Compression – But It May Hallucinate Details

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/disney-research-offers-improved-ai-based-image-compression-but-it-may-hallucinate-details/

Disney Research Offers Improved AI-Based Image Compression – But It May Hallucinate Details

Disney’s Research arm is offering a new method of compressing images, leveraging the open source Stable Diffusion V1.2 model to produce more realistic images at lower bitrates than competing methods.

The Disney compression method compared to prior approaches. The authors claim improved recovery of detail, while offering a model that does not require hundreds of thousands of dollars of training, and which operates faster than the nearest equivalent competing method. Source: https://studios.disneyresearch.com/app/uploads/2024/09/Lossy-Image-Compression-with-Foundation-Diffusion-Models-Paper.pdf

The new approach (defined as a ‘codec’ despite its increased complexity in comparison to traditional codecs such as JPEG and AV1) can operate over any Latent Diffusion Model (LDM). In quantitative tests, it outperforms former methods in terms of accuracy and detail, and requires significantly less training and compute cost.

The key insight of the new work is that quantization error (a central process in all image compression) is similar to noise (a central process in diffusion models).

Therefore a ‘traditionally’ quantized image can be treated as a noisy version of the original image, and used in an LDM’s denoising process instead of random noise, in order to reconstruct the image at a target bitrate.

Further comparisons of the new Disney method (highlighted in green), in contrast to rival approaches.

The authors contend:

‘[We] formulate the removal of quantization error as a denoising task, using diffusion to recover lost information in the transmitted image latent. Our approach allows us to perform less than 10% of the full diffusion generative process and requires no architectural changes to the diffusion model, enabling the use of foundation models as a strong prior without additional fine tuning of the backbone.

‘Our proposed codec outperforms previous methods in quantitative realism metrics, and we verify that our reconstructions are qualitatively preferred by end users, even when other methods use twice the bitrate.’

However, in common with other projects that seek to exploit the compression capabilities of diffusion models, the output may hallucinate details. By contrast, lossy methods such as JPEG will produce clearly distorted or over-smoothed areas of detail, which can be recognized as compression limitations by the casual viewer.

Instead, Disney’s codec may alter detail from context that was not there in the source image, due to the coarse nature of the Variational Autoencoder (VAE) used in typical models trained on hyperscale data.

‘Similar to other generative approaches, our method can discard certain image features while synthesizing similar information at the receiver side. In specific cases, however, this might result in inaccurate reconstruction, such as bending straight lines or warping the boundary of small objects.

‘These are well-known issues of the foundation model we build upon, which can be attributed to the relatively low feature dimension of its VAE.’

While this has some implications for artistic depictions and the verisimilitude of casual photographs, it could have a more critical impact in cases where small details constitute essential information, such as evidence for court cases, data for facial recognition, scans for Optical Character Recognition (OCR), and a wide variety of other possible use cases, in the eventuality of the popularization of a codec with this capability.

At this nascent stage of the progress of AI-enhanced image compression, all these possible scenarios are far in the future. However, image storage is a hyperscale global challenge, touching on issues around data storage, streaming, and electricity consumption, besides other concerns. Therefore AI-based compression could offer a tempting trade-off between accuracy and logistics. History shows that the best codecs do not always win the widest user-base, when issues such as licensing and market capture by proprietary formats are factors in adoption.

Disney has been experimenting with machine learning as a compression method for a long time. In 2020, one of the researchers on the new paper was involved in a VAE-based project for improved video compression.

The  new Disney paper was updated in early October. Today the company released an accompanying YouTube video. The project is titled Lossy Image Compression with Foundation Diffusion Models, and comes from four researchers at ETH Zürich (affiliated with Disney’s AI-based projects) and Disney Research. The researchers also offer a supplementary paper.

Method

The new method uses a VAE to encode an image into its compressed latent representation. At this stage the input image consists of derived features – low-level vector-based representations. The latent embedding is then quantized back into a bitstream, and back into pixel-space.

This quantized image is then used as a template for the noise that usually seeds a diffusion-based image, with a varying number of denoising steps (wherein there is often a trade-off between increased denoising steps and greater accuracy, vs. lower latency and higher efficiency).

Schema for the new Disney compression method.

Both the quantization parameters and the total number of denoising steps can be controlled under the new system, through the training of a neural network that predicts the relevant variables related to these aspects of encoding. This process is called adaptive quantization, and the Disney system uses the Entroformer framework as the entropy model which powers the procedure.

The authors state:

‘Intuitively, our method learns to discard information (through the quantization transformation) that can be synthesized during the diffusion process. Because errors introduced during quantization are similar to adding [noise] and diffusion models are functionally denoising models, they can be used to remove the quantization noise introduced during coding.’

Stable Diffusion V2.1 is the diffusion backbone for the system, chosen because the entirety of the code and the base weights are publicly available. However, the authors emphasize that their schema is applicable to a wider number of models.

Pivotal to the economics of the process is timestep prediction, which evaluates the optimal number of denoising steps – a balancing act between efficiency and performance.

Timestep predictions, with the optimal number of denoising steps indicated with red border. Please refer to source PDF for accurate resolution.

The amount of noise in the latent embedding needs to be considered when making a prediction for the best number of denoising steps.

Data and Tests

The model was trained on the Vimeo-90k dataset. The images were randomly cropped to 256x256px for each epoch (i.e., each complete ingestion of the refined dataset by the model training architecture).

The model was optimized for 300,000 steps at a learning rate of 1e-4. This is the most common among computer vision projects, and also the lowest and most fine-grained generally practicable value, as a compromise between broad generalization of the dataset’s concepts and traits, and a capacity for the reproduction of fine detail.

The authors comment on some of the logistical considerations for an economic yet effective system*:

‘During training, it is prohibitively expensive to backpropagate the gradient through multiple passes of the diffusion model as it runs during DDIM sampling. Therefore, we perform only one DDIM sampling iteration and directly use [this] as the fully denoised [data].’

Datasets used for testing the system were Kodak; CLIC2022; and COCO 30k. The dataset was pre-processed according to the methodology outlined in the 2023 Google offering Multi-Realism Image Compression with a Conditional Generator.

Metrics used were Peak Signal-to-Noise Ratio (PSNR); Learned Perceptual Similarity Metrics (LPIPS); Multiscale Structural Similarity Index (MS-SSIM); and Fréchet Inception Distance (FID).

Rival prior frameworks tested were divided between older systems that used Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs), and more recent offerings based around diffusion models. The GAN systems tested were High-Fidelity Generative Image Compression (HiFiC); and ILLM (which offers some improvements on HiFiC).

The diffusion-based systems were Lossy Image Compression with Conditional Diffusion Models (CDC) and High-Fidelity Image Compression with Score-based Generative Models (HFD).

Quantitative results against prior frameworks over various datasets.

For the quantitative results (visualized above), the researchers state:

‘Our method sets a new state-of-the-art in realism of reconstructed images, outperforming all baselines in FID-bitrate curves. In some distortion metrics (namely, LPIPS and MS-SSIM), we outperform all diffusion-based codecs while remaining competitive with the highest-performing generative codecs.

‘As expected, our method and other generative methods suffer when measured in PSNR as we favor perceptually pleasing reconstructions instead of exact replication of detail.’

For the user study, a two-alternative-forced-choice (2AFC) method was used, in a tournament context where the favored images would go on to later rounds. The study used the Elo rating system originally developed for chess tournaments.

Therefore, participants would view and select the best of two presented 512x512px images across the various generative methods. An additional experiment was undertaken in which all image comparisons from the same user were evaluated, via a Monte Carlo simulation over 10,0000 iterations, with the median score presented in results.

Estimated Elo ratings for the user study, featuring Elo tournaments for each comparison (left) and also for each participant, with higher values better.

Here the authors comment:

‘As can be seen in the Elo scores, our method significantly outperforms all the others, even compared to CDC, which uses on average double the bits of our method. This remains true regardless of Elo tournament strategy used.’

In the original paper, as well as the supplementary PDF, the authors provide further visual comparisons, one of which is shown earlier in this article. However, due to the granularity of difference between the samples, we refer the reader to the source PDF, so that these results can be judged fairly.

The paper concludes by noting that its proposed method operates twice as fast as the rival CDC (3.49 vs 6.87 seconds, respectively). It also observes that ILLM can process an image within 0.27 seconds, but that this system requires burdensome training.

Conclusion

The ETH/Disney researchers are clear, at the paper’s conclusion, about the potential of their system to generate false detail. However, none of the samples offered in the material dwell on this issue.

In all fairness, this problem is not limited to the new Disney approach, but is an inevitable collateral effect of using diffusion models –  an inventive and interpretive architecture –  to compress imagery.

Interestingly, only five days ago two other researchers from ETH Zurich produced a paper titled Conditional Hallucinations for Image Compression, which examines the possibility of an ‘optimal level of hallucination’ in AI-based compression systems.

The authors there make a case for the desirability of hallucinations where the domain is generic (and, arguably, ‘harmless’) enough:

‘For texture-like content, such as grass, freckles, and stone walls, generating pixels that realistically match a given texture is more important than reconstructing precise pixel values; generating any sample from the distribution of a texture is generally sufficient.’

Thus this second paper makes a case for compression to be optimally ‘creative’ and representative, rather than recreating as accurately as possible the core traits and lineaments of the original non-compressed image.

One wonders what the photographic and creative community would make of this fairly radical redefinition of ‘compression’.

*My conversion of the authors’ inline citations to hyperlinks.

First published Wednesday, October 30, 2024

[an-android-child]

via @forevercloudnine

for every darkly lit shot of a half-dressed bruce wayne sitting battered and bruised in the shadows with bloody gauges wrapped around his torso post-battle, there’s an alfred pennyworth two paces off the panel holding a plate of crustless cucumber sandwiches and this is why i refuse to take batman seriously

[cloudstation]

I got this label maker and I was playing with the app it connects to. There's an "image recognition" button, but I just read the word image and I got so excited that it would let me put my own picture on a label. So I put this picture

and the long story short is I made a barcode for a raccoon

[probablyasocialecologist]

The IDF uses extensive facial recognition with a growing network of cameras and mobile phones to document every Palestinian in the West Bank. Starting in 2019, Israeli soldiers used the Blue Wolf app to capture Palestinian faces, which were then compared to a massive database of images dubbed the “Facebook for Palestinians.” Soldiers were told to compete by taking the most photos of Palestinians and the most prolific would win prizes. The system is most extreme in the city of Hebron, where facial recognition and numerous cameras are used to monitor Palestinians, including at times in their homes, instead of the extreme Jewish settlers living there, who routinely express genocidal threats against the Palestinians. The IDF claimed that the program was designed to “improve the quality of life for the Palestinian population.”

Antony Loewenstein, The Palestine Laboratory: How Israel Exports the Technology of Occupation Around the World

[luludeluluramblings]

Multiverse!Reader Blurb

A/N: Soooooo, y’all remember when I had that multiverse!Reader idea? Cause here’s something from it I found in my notes app that I wrote forever ago. (I use a different app when writing now.)

Context: This is Reader’s breakdown and traveling to the other universe bit. GN!Reader

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

It tasted good. Delicious. The best Burger they’d ever had. They could help but eat as if it was their last meal. Their only meal.

And, something in them cracked. Be it the bite of the burger. The seasoning. The silence. The sounds of the cook in the back. Something cracked and the dam burst. Leaving them a sobbing pathetic mess at the empty dinner table.

Outside the window the sky seemed open up with their tears. Flashes of lightning in the sky. One striking so close by that the dinner shook. Too broken and tired to care as the sobs racked through their form. The half eaten food falling from their plate as tears and snot streamed down their face.

Without warning, a gentle hand was placed on their back. A large warm and unfamiliar hand. It had been so long since they had been comforted that the touch startled them into looking up at the figure.

Only for them to jerk away. Their watery eyes widening in horror when they saw who was touching them. Who was looking at them with such a concerned look.

Bruce. Standing next to him was none other than Dick. Both their eyes widening in surprise when Reader jerked up and looked at them with shock, recognition, anger and devastation.

For a moment, they tried to recall if they knew this person. They had literally appeared out of nowhere at the table behind them practically wailing with heartbroken cries.

Already the two men were on edge, but weirder things had happened in Gotham.

However, Bruce’s breath caught when he saw their eyes.

He didn’t know this person, this bawling child. But, those eyes he knew. He recognized. He saw them almost every night in his nightmares. The life fading from with the memory of a bullet making the life from them fade.

To see them now looking up at him with so many negative emotions, but filled with life made his heart stutter.

“Leave me alone, Bruce.” Comes their wobbly voice as they stand and push past him.

It stund him further. They know him. But, he doesn’t know them. Instantly, his mind is in detective mode. Trying to piece together this situation.

Giving Dick a quick glance with a silent order to let him handle this as he rushes after the distraught child. Because that was a child. A child that had his mother’s eyes and looks at him with desolation and apprehension. They knew him. He didn’t know him.

As he ran after them, he could concluded they knew Gotham. At least somewhat. They knew where they were going. More pieces to an unknown puzzle. They finally made it to the Gotham park, rain pelting both of them soaking them up the bone when he watch the child collapse on to a park bench under a tree.

Bruce didn’t hesitate, resting on his knees in front of them. Reaching out a warm hand to rest against their shaking shoulders.

As the looked up at him and he studied their face, he could tell that this was his child. The way their nose wrinkled the same way Damian’s does, the way those eyes shown like his late mother’s, the furrowed brows that he saw often in the mirror. He knew this was his and his heart ached at the way they looked at him.

“What’s your name?” He whispers. Wanting to know who this mystery child of his was.

“….” They replied. Confusion filling their trembling voice. The recognition clear in their eyes. They studied each other in the cold Gotham rain for minutes. Long minutes with multiple things being unsaid.

“You’re not the Bruce I know, are you?” They break the silence first. Interrupting Bruce’s study of them.

“No.” More puzzle pieces coming to light and being added to the ever growing pile. He is starting to get a rough idea of the image they’ll form though.

Silence falls over the two again. The rain not lighting up. But the thunder and lightning fading.

“What now?” They asks with a hopeless voice.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Did I cook? Or, should I scrap it? It’s GN!Reader, but I kinda wanna make it Fem!Reader. (I enjoy writing those more, but I’m willing to change some bits.)

Link to the idea page!

[astrocafecoffee]

Astro observation ( part 1)

🔹For entertainment purposes only, enjoy🔹

♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️♦️

✨ Uranus in the first house individuals may reject authority or traditions that feels restrictive to them.others may seem them as trendsetters or avant -garde in their approach to life.

✨ Venus in the 10th house of natal chart peoples are so workaholic that they prioritise their career, success over personal relationships or self care.

✨ your spouse's name asteroid could fall in your natal 7th house. ( Not necessarily, but it can be).

✨ mercury in the 5th house can indicate a communicative and involved parenting style. This individuals may encourage their children's intellectual development, creativity, and curiosity, fostering a supportive environment that values self expression and learning.

✨ Scorpio mars individuals have a strong sense of loyalty and protectiveness towards their loved ones. They can be fiercely protective of those they care about and may go to great lengths to defend and support them.

✨ regulus in 7th house of Composite chart - your relationship with your person may bring some fame/ recognition.

✨ Astrocartography mc lines - indicates which place may have a significant impact on your career or public life.

✨ Astrocartography Dc lines - you may meet your spouse/ long term partner there.

✨ Saturn in the 4th house individuals are very traditional 🙂

✨ solar return Jupiter/ mercury in 3rd house/ 10th house may indicate favorable year for cracking competitive exams.

✨ Earth dominate individuals may admire partners who take their commitments seriously whether it's in personal relationships ,career or other areas of life.

✨ juno in 1st house of groom persona chart means your spouse may influence how you present yourself to others or how you are perceived in social settings. they could bring out certain qualities in you or play a significant role in shaping your public image.

✨ South node lines in your Astrocartography chart indicates where you lived in your past lives.

✨ Briede conjunct Devine asteroid in synastry - divine/ fated relationship.

✨ Union asteroid in your groom / briede pc can indicate where you will meet your potential life partner/ spouse :

♾️ Union in Aries - dynamic / stimulating environments suggest adventurous activities, sports events, or places that involved risk taking and exploration. Gyms, fitness classes, martial art studios, organizing events , can meet through social gatherings / casual meet ups where people gather for fun or socializing. , Business conferences/ academic competitions.

♾️ Union in Taurus -

Fine dining restaurants , art galleries/ elegant social events. Settings related to finance, banking, investments , or business networking events., Exhibitions , concerts, musical performance, through mutual friends, wellness workshops.

♾️ Union in gemini -

Intellectual or educational events, workshops, seminars, book clubs , social gatherings , parties , online platforms, social media, dating apps, local festivals , neighborhood gatherings , during travel, airport, train station, writing workshop, media production, related to communication and journalism.

♾️ Union in cancer -

Family gatherings , reunions, hospitals , caregiving facilities, charity events , volunteering activities, through mutual friends, at historical sites, museums, art galleries, cultural events, small town festivals, near Lake, river, beaches, cafe , restaurant.

♾️ Union in leo -

Theatres , music venues, art galleries, or during performances and artistic events, parties , weddings, festivals , or grand gathering, acting class, outdoor festival, sports event , amusement park, related to child's education, youth organization, casinos, comedy clubs , gaming centre etc.

♾️ Union in Virgo -

Office , workplaces, professional conferences, networking events, volunteer activities, community service projects, charitable organisations, gyms, fitness classes health food store, wellness center, university, school , educational seminars, pet adoption events, parks , botanical garden.

♾️ Union in Libra -

Social getherings, parties, networking events, through mutual friends, concerts, cultural events, museums, theatre performance, settings related to law, mediation or during discussions that involve finding mutual agreements or resolutions., Teamwork, collaboration, relationship focused workshop,fashion shows, design exhibition, cocktail party, formal gatherings, courtroom, law office.

♾️ Union in scorpio -

Psychotherapy session, support groups, detective work, reasearch fields or in setting that require deep analysis and understanding., Spiritual retreats, metaphysical shops, astrology or tarot classes, tantra workshop, relationship councilling, setting related to investment, joint ventures, estate planning, holistic health centres , transformational workshop, place focused on healing practices.

♾️ Union in Sagittarius -

Travel, airport, train station, in foreign countries, or while participating in adventures such as hiking, backpacking, or exploring new cultures, University, libraries, seminars, religious gatherings, philosophy group, outdoor activities, sports events, camping trips, cultural festival, international events, language exchange program, law, publishing house, that promotes justice.

♾️ Union in Capricorn -

Office, corporate events, buisness conference, while pursuing ambitious projects, leadership roles, ceremony, cultural events, context related to banking, investments, Financial setting, teaching activities , prestigious club , organization, or during events where recognition and achievements are celebrated., Formal dinner etc.

♾️ Union in Aquarius -

Activism, volunteer work, community organization, seminars, conferences, discussion groups, online platforms, social media, tech startups, through mutual friends, social circles, online communities, music festival, Charity work.

♾️ Union in Pisces -

May meet in spiritual retreats, meditation centre, yoga studio, art galleries, theatre, music concert, poetry reading,film screening , volunteer work, charitable organisations, near Lake , beaches , hospital, clinic, wellness center, music festival, dance class, spiritual chants or ceremonies, book clubs focused on fiction on fantasy genres.

✨ Saturn in 1st house people often have RBF / Serious demeanor 👺

✨ Moon opposite/ square Saturn in solar return chart indicates emotional heaviness, feeling of loneliness or responsibilities weighing heavily on the emotions 😭.

✨ Jupiter/ Venus in 2nd house of Groom/ Briede pc indicates rich spouse.

✨ South node conjunct karma in synastry might suggest past life conflicts, power struggles or intense experiences that need healing or resolution in the current lifetime.

My other posts :

🔮 your future spouse's career.

🔮 your past life.

🔮 marriage placement in synastry and composite.

And many more on my page-

See you soon ~

- Piko ✨

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

List of things Alastor actually knows about cellphones. In the order he learned them

-You can change the ring tone to anything you want.

-They can be protected by passwords

-It's ridiculously easy to find out someone's password

-How to actually change the ring tone (it took six months)

-One can change the password

-You can take pictures and change the background images to anything you want.

-It can be protected by a pattern.

-Some of the little app doohickeys are very distracting, and you will lose an entire afternoon.

-You can delete most of the little app doohickeys

-They can be protected by facial recognition.

-If a man gives birth to his daughter and she is basically 98% his clone, the facial recognition can't tell the difference.

-If you get caught trying to change the ringtone on someone's phone by their daughter, it is not considered an irredeemable quality, but rather a prank, and she will infact help you.

-You can download more, and worse, ringtones and images.

-If you go too far the next time you use her face to open a phone, she will rat you out.

-If you schmooze the woman who runs hell's internet she will unlock the phone from her office.

-And tell you how to change the password

-And how to change the theme

*If you change the background image, the theme, the password, and the phone case, no one can prove it's NOT your brand new phone no matter how wildly bizzar that sounds.

-Unless they get their duaghter to calls her dad and your brand new cellphone rings.

-Claiming you're honored to be labeled "dad" in HER phone will not, in fact, convince them its your phone.

-The king of hell can protect his phone with magic.

[marilearnsmandarin]

These are the apps and links I currently have on my phone to study Chinese:

SuperChinese: my main study resource. There are currently 7 levels, level 7 (still incomplete, they are still slowly adding lessons to it) being HSK 5 stuff. Each lesson has vocabulary, grammar and a short dialogue where those are used in context (I love context). It has a few free lessons in the lower levels but after that you have to buy a subscription. There are many sales though. When I was a beginner I used HelloChinese instead, which has more free content, and switched to SuperChinese when I finished all the free content there. It also has social network features and chat rooms I don't use.

TofuLearn is like a flashcard app with many pre-made decks (you can also create your own on their website and import decks from Anki) and the option to practice writing hanzi. Anki didn't work for me, but I find Tofu very helpful. Practicing writing helps me with character recognition, and it also helps me remember the tones thanks to the audio in the pre-made HSK decks.

Dot is a reading app with new texts being added every day. It used to be completely free, which actually seemed too good to be true, and then they put practically everything behind a paywall and very strict limits for free users. After a couple of months they made it a little less restricted though - we still can't choose the articles but we can read as many as we want as long as we do the vocabulary exercises after each article (plus, during the Spring Festival, they made all articles available for free for 3 days and we could save the ones we were interested in to read later). It follows the new, not-yet-implemented (and harder) HSK levels, so you should start one or two levels below yours and if the texts are too easy move up.

Google Translator: not the best but helpful when I need to translate whole sentences, plus I can point my camera or open an image and it translates writing.

Pleco: best Chinese to English dictionary.

Stroke Order: not an app but a website, does what it says in the tin: shows stroke order for a specific character.

YouGlish: also a website, you can put a word or phrase and it shows videos where people say that word/phrase. Very cool.

Todaii is a graded news app that has only two levels: easy and hard. I'm around level HSK4 and the "easy" level is quite hard though (but I admit reading is my nemesis).

I also use YouTube and Spotify a lot.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Private Screening

23/12: Home Videos and Voyeurism - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.5k~ | Warnings: masturbation (m), voyeurism, home videos of sexual acts, smut

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

Fuck work Christmas parties, Billy thinks with displeasure as he slobs across the sofa, half a can of Stella in one hand, the remote control in the other.

He felt a bit pathetic missing her after only a few hours. Suppose that was the worst bit about having a girlfriend that was also your best mate. But it did sound a bit precious when he thought about it like that.

The choice in TV shows didn't exactly sour him to pass the time either. It was that crappy few days between the last of the working year and Christmas, and there was sweet fuck all on tele.

Turning the volume down on a Christmas special of First Dates he glances outside, seeing that it's just begun to rain and he pulls lazily at one side of the curtains just enough to obscure his flat from passersbys on the street.

Propping up to fish his phone out his pocket, he scrolls mindlessly for a bit on Instagram Reels. But even then,  the doomscrolling and repetitive music his algorithm thinks he likes gets boring fast.

A messenger bubble pop up on his screen.

‘missing me baby? 😘’

He huffs a short laugh, typing with one hand.

‘Bored out of my mind’

She reads it immediately, and the three bubbles feel like edging.

‘I’m sure you'll find a way to entertain yourself 😉’

Cheeky, he thinks with that warm feeling in his stomach. She knew how bricked up he was when he saw her leaving, in that velvety dress he always likes her to keep on when they come home and pull each other needily to the bedroom.

With a heaved sigh, he uses one hand to pull the buttons of his jeans apart, then the zip and slides his hand into his boxers, stroking his currently soft member while he found something to ‘entertain’ himself to.

The locked folder in his photos app was a godless place.

He blinked as the face recognition granted him access, his cock stirring in his palm when he was greeted by video after video and photo after photo. 

Some, just her.

Some, both of them.

His breath hitches at some of the previews. It was something he started getting into to about six months into dating her. She was much more willing to discuss what she was into sexually than his other girlfriends, and he supposes it rubbed off on him. 

And when he suggested if it was okay if he recorded them during sex, he'd never seen that naughty gleam in her eyes so bright before. 

Like most things it was awkward at first. The first time they tried, she kept laughing nervously, her cheeks flushed as she covered her face and body with her hands. “I feel weird,�� she had said, glancing briefly at his phone camera in one hand.

But when he reassured her that the videos and photos he had of her went absolutely nowhere beyond his eyes only, she was more...confident. She'd tease him when he started recording, cast sultry glances over her shoulder and pull him close to whisper ungodly things for his ears only.

His heart rate kicked up as his thumb hovered over one video in particular, remembering how she’d looked that night. Her skin glowing in the low light, her lips parted in soft moans, her eyes locked on his like he was the only thing in the world that mattered.

He tapped on the video, and immediately the screen came alive with her image. The frame started with her face, soft and radiant, her lips curved into a teasing smile as she leaned closer to the camera. Her eyes, half-lidded and filled with mischief, sparkled as she adjusted the angle, her voice a low murmur, “You better enjoy this later.”

She laid back, clad only in the lacy black bra and underwear set he loved so much. The fabric was so delicate it barely covered her entirely, teasing more than hiding really.

She was looking up at him, the movement of the camera making it obvious he was on top of her. The video caught the slow, deliberate rhythm of his hips moving against hers. Her body writhed beneath him, her chest rising and falling with each deep, shuddering breath.

Her moans were soft at first, little gasps and whimpers as she adjusted to the fullness of him. “Billy, you feel so good,” she whispered. His pace quickened slightly, the sound of their bodies meeting filling the room alongside her cries of pleasure.

He watched the video as his hand made its way down her front, kneading one breast before travelling downwards, his breath catching slightly as the angle caught a glimpse of the way he disappeared inside her over and over.

He adjusted slightly, pushing her knee back to change the angle, and the gasp she let out was enough to make his breath catch as he watched. “Right there, baby,” she murmured, her voice breaking into a moan as he thrust deeper—

Fuck.

That's where the video ends.

He'd clearly been so caught up in the moment that he'd abandoned the video.

But keen to keep up the building heat in his stomach, he swiped to the next. The feeling coiling tighter at the new video.

This time she was on her hands and knees, the view was tantalising, the curve of her spine leading down to where he was behind her, his hand firmly holding her hip. Her body moved in time with his thrusts, rocking forward with every deep push, and the sound of her breathless moans filled the otherwise quiet apartment.

Her head turned slightly toward the camera, and her eyes were glazed with lust, her lips parted as she gasped his name. “Harder,” she whispered, her voice raw and needy.

He stroked himself tighter, harder. So fucking close.

On the screen, she reached back, her fingers brushing against his thigh, urging him on. “Don’t stop,” she gasped. 

And her voice was what finally sent him over the edge.

As the video reached its peak, he pulled back slightly, his hands sliding from her hips to the small of her back as he drove into her one last time. Her moans hit a crescendo, her body shuddering as she buried her face into the pillow.

His own hips stuttered, squeezing himself hard towards the tip, warmth coating his knuckles as he came.

The last few seconds of the video showed him pulling out, her body still trembling as he finished on her lower back, his pearly release glistening on her skin. She turned her head toward the camera with a sly, breathless smile, her voice soft but teasing as she said, “You’re cleaning that up, you know.”

He looked down at himself, chest heaving, and thought with a soft, tired chuckle, ‘yeah, no shit.’

He let his phone flop against his stomach as he laid his head back against the sofa, spent, boneless, with his softening cock loose in his palm.

“Am I interrupting something?”

He nearly jumped out of his fucking skin. His hand pulling so quickly out of his boxers out of sheer reflex, he was immediately brought back to the heart-wrenching moments his mum would enter his room without knocking.

But luckily, it was her.

She was smiling against the doorway, arms crossed and smug, her coat over the hook in the doorway.

“Fucking hell, babe, how long have you been there?” his voice was shaky, trying with sheer willpower alone to reduce his heart rate.

“Long enough,” she said, her voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. 

Her gaze flicked down to his lap, and he followed it instinctively, moving quickly to pull his boxers back up, but too flustered to do up the buttons of his jeans. There was something both embarrassing and exhilarating at the prospect she'd been at the door, quite blatantly, watching him pleasure himself to her image.

She huffed a laugh and stepped into the room, deliberately swaying her hips, eyes darkening slightly as she stood in front of him. He could tell she was flushed from a few drinks, but not enough to be drunk. Just enough for her inhibitions to waver, and her confidence skyrocket.

“I’m guessing you were watching one of those videos,” she mused.

He swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very exposed. “Maybe.”

She smirked, pulling the hem of her dress up so she was able to straddle his lap, relishing the hitch in his breath. “Which one?” she asked, casually, her arms slung over his shoulders, as if she were just taking a seat.

“The, uh…” He cleared his throat, trying to focus. “The one where you’re on your hands and knees.”

“Oh,” she teased, drawing the word out. “That one.”

She placed the phone on the coffee table. “Well,” she murmured, her hands sliding up his chest, “since you clearly couldn’t wait for me…how about we make a new one?”

He felt his body zing with excitement, but his cheeks quickly flushed at the realisation he'd only just…

She caught the look, “or do the soldiers need time to recuperate?”

Billy snorted, a boyish, albeit, embarrassed smile lighting up his face. “Uh, give me like…five minutes.”

With a barely suppressed smirk, she clambered off him and made for the bedroom. “I'll be waiting!”

“Keep the dress on!”

General Taglist:

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[coochiequeens]

Good news for my same sex attracted sisters.

Lesbian dating app to use facial recognition to exclude trans women from matching with biological females

By SANCHEZ MANNING and SUE REID

PUBLISHED: 19:03 EDT, 1 June 2024 

The first dating app for lesbians is set to launch – using sex-recognition technology to exclude trans women and ensure only biological females can sign up.

It is the brainchild of feminist campaigner Jenny Watson, who says there are currently no dating apps which cater purely for women who want same-sex relationships.

The current crop of dating apps, she says, are increasingly being used by males who identify as female and who say they too are lesbian.

L'App will use facial recognition technology to verify a person as a biological female.

Ms Watson said would-be users will have to go through a process when they sign up where the app scans their face via their smartphone.

It is the brainchild of feminist campaigner Jenny Watson (pictured), who says there are currently no dating apps which cater purely for women who want same-sex relationships

The software, which Ms Watson claims is 99 per cent accurate, analyses features including bone structure, the shape and positioning of an individual's eyes, eyebrows and nose shape or size. It will also be able to detect if a person is presenting a live image rather than just putting a photo of a woman up to the camera by detecting movement, blinking motions and heat emissions.

Tests have revealed that if someone tries to disguise themselves as a woman by putting on a wig or make-up, the technology will spot the deception.

Ms Watson, 32, a town planner, told The Mail on Sunday: 'There is no female-only dating apps at the moment. Lesbians need an app which they can use without being messaged by trans-identifying males.'

She said L'App had also been developed in response to many lesbians finding that they were being banned from existing apps if they dared to specify that they wanted to date only natal females. Speaking about her own personal experience, she said: 'Any time I've joined a lesbian dating app or any other dating app myself, I get banned.

'To avoid trans-identified males, I will always write a little blurb, nothing disrespectful, saying my preference is for women and please respect my boundaries.

'And every time I do that I get banned. On one app I was asked to put down my most controversial opinion, so I wrote that J. K. Rowling was right and was banned for that. It's insane.'

Ms Watson has previously campaigned to protect lesbian spaces, by hosting female-only speed dating nights. She plans to open UK's first single-sex lesbian bar.

She has been criticised as transphobic for excluding transgender women – which she rejects. Her launch comes as a court case is being heard in Australia over whether a trans woman can be lawfully excluded from a female-only social networking app called Giggle.

[mariacallous]

Thousands of people across the United States poured into the streets this week to protest the Trump administration’s immigration policies, joining a nationwide wave of resistance that began in Los Angeles. One of the most widely shared images from the city, where federal authorities have sent almost 5,000 active-duty Marines and National Guard members, is of five Waymo robotaxis that were vandalized and set on fire. The incident has become one of the most recognizable symbols of the demonstrations so far, and prompted Waymo to temporarily shut off service in several parts of the city as well as parts of San Francisco on Monday.

The charred Waymo cars have also raised fresh questions about what kinds of technology authorities can use to surveil protesters and potentially collect evidence to make arrests. According to Waymo’s website, its latest driverless cars have 29 external cameras, providing “a simultaneous 360° view around the vehicle,” as well as an unknown number of internal ones.

Over the past several years, Waymo has repeatedly shared video footage with police after receiving formal legal requests. But it’s not clear how often the self-driving company, which is owned by Google’s parent organization Alphabet, complies with these demands. Unlike Google, Waymo doesn’t disclose the number of legal requests it receives nor how it responds to them. When police do obtain footage, they could also combine it with other technology—like face recognition or nonbiometric tools for finding and tracking people in videoclips—to identify possible criminal suspects.

Waymo spokesperson Sandy Karp tells WIRED that the company's general policy is to challenge data requests that are overly broad or lack sound legal basis, but it doesn’t disclose or comment on specific cases. Karp pointed to Waymo’s privacy policy, which acknowledges that the company may share user data to comply with laws and governmental requests. A separate support page for Waymo One, the dedicated app for its robotaxi service, notes that the company “may share certain data with law enforcement as needed to comply with legal requirements, enforce agreements, and protect the safety of you and others.”

It’s not clear how much, if any, of the video footage potentially captured by the burned Waymos in Los Angeles may have been destroyed along with the cars. Waymo doesn’t specify whether the data collected by its robotaxis is stored locally in the vehicle itself or externally in the cloud. The company previously told The Washington Post that “interior camera data” isn’t stored alongside the data from external cameras.

If any footage does still exist from the destroyed vehicles, Waymo doesn’t disclose how long it may remain available. Waymo’s website and privacy policy do not specify how long the company retains camera footage captured inside or outside its vehicles. For years, self-driving companies like Waymo retained large amounts of information collected by their cars for training purposes and to optimize the underlying technology. The company has generally been trending more recently toward deleting data sooner, WIRED previously reported, though it’s unclear whether some types may be stored longer than others.

Waymo declined to answer questions from WIRED about how many cameras are inside its vehicles, exactly how long footage is retained, and whether the company has ever turned over footage to US federal law enforcement or a branch of the military. Karp did note, however, that the company’s engineering team sometimes uses information from sensors, including video footage and other data, to run simulations aimed at improving its technology. She says Waymo also puts limits on both who can access data and how long it’s retained.

Waymo’s robotaxi service is currently available in the Phoenix metro area and parts of San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Austin, Texas. In the company’s relatively short time operating in US cities, it has shown a willingness to comply with requests for footage from law enforcement.

Officers working for the Mesa Police Department and the Chandler Police Department in Arizona have been requesting and using footage from Waymos for criminal investigations since 2016, or about as long as the vehicles have been in their towns, according to reporting from Phoenix’s ABC 15. Police told the news outlet in 2022 that they have used the footage for several cases, including an alleged road rage incident. (The individual pleaded guilty after being charged with disorderly conduct.)

In May 2022, two months after Waymo began limited robotaxi operations in San Francisco, Vice reported that a training document for San Francisco police explicitly told officers that “autonomous vehicles” have footage that could sometimes “help with investigative leads.”

As of 2023, Waymo had been issued at least nine search warrants in San Francisco and Arizona’s Maricopa County, its primary markets at the time, according to reporting from Bloomberg. One of the cases involved the murder of an Uber driver in 2021. While San Francisco police said they couldn’t identify a specific Waymo vehicle that was near the crime scene, an officer argued that there was “probable cause” that Waymo vehicles were “driving around the area” and had footage of the victim, possible suspects, and the crime scene, according to a search warrant viewed by Bloomberg. Waymo complied and provided footage, but it ultimately did not lead to the arrest of the suspect, who was convicted of the murder in 2023.

Last year, WIRED reported that Waymo had sued two individuals for allegedly vandalizing its vehicles in San Francisco and had camera footage from the cars of the alleged incidents. (One of the cases is ongoing; the other was dismissed last month.)

Waymo’s video-recording and data-collection practices aren’t unique. All vehicles with self-driving capabilities rely on a combination of lidar, radar, and video data in order to operate. Cruise, the now defunct self-driving-car venture run by General Motors, also reportedly gave camera footage to law enforcement upon request.

Private owners of camera-equipped vehicles can also voluntarily turn over camera footage to law enforcement. For example, police in Berkeley, California, have received at least two sets of footage from the owner of a Tesla Cybertruck who said their car was vandalized twice this year, according to documents obtained by WIRED via public record request.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Shigaraki Kinktober - Day 2 - Licking and Blackmail

A gust of wind hits you in the face as you open the heavy metal door, the difference in temperature outside the school making you shiver. The rooftop isn’t supposed to be accessible to students, but it's a rule even most faculty seem content to ignore. The smokers and slackers will often hang out here, to enjoy the fresh air and the view. But there's never anyone there so early in the morning.

You stare down at your phone, re-reading the mysterious text for the hundredth time:

[Unknown: school rooftop. 6:00AM. dont be late, or ull regret it]

You look around the empty roof, clutching your free hand around your skirt. Through the metal fencing, you can see the dark autumn sky, the sun barely peaking through gray clouds. It's eerily silent, with the sounds of the barely waking city so far down below you.

If you screamed, you wonder if anyone would hear you.

“Hello?” you ask hesitantly, voice more hesitant than you would have liked. Could it have been just a prank?

“Hey.”

The raspy voice coming so close from behind you makes you jump, and you stumble quickly to turn around, taking a few steps back.

The guy behind you is tall, impressively so.

Instead of the school's mandatory blazer, he's wearing a plain black hoodie which seems much too large for his frame, with a few grayed-out stains on the sleeves. His hair is shaggy and messy, a light periwinkle, but what really strikes you are his eyes: they're red, a bright crimson that feels like it could burn holes through your skin just with the way he looks at you.

“Took you long enough,” he comments, visibly annoyed, “I was starting to think you weren't going to show up.”

You've seen him a couple of times before. He has the same math class as you, always sitting far in the back. You remember he pointedly ignores all your teacher’s attempts at making him answer questions, and that's only when he actually comes to class. Is he trying to confess a crush on you? You’d have to be nice and careful rejecting him, he seems a little… unpredictable.

There is one issue though.

You can't remember his name for the life of you.

He seems to notice the lack of recognition on your face, and gives you an odd, stretched-out smile, like he had expected it.

“Can't remember my name, can you?” he taunts you slightly, one hand going inside his pants pocket to pull out his phone. A small, tiny red charm is hanging from it, the words ‘I AM HERE’ written in a bold font. “That's too bad. It's Shigaraki. Tomura Shigaraki. Don't worry, you'll remember.”

He unlocks his phone with a practiced, lazy motion, scrolling through a photo app without a care in the world. You manage to stay silent for a few seconds, until you decide you can’t handle the strange tension emanating from him:

“Why am I-” you start.

“Shut up,” he immediately cuts you off, not looking up from his screen. “You always talk all the time. With the teachers, with your friends, with random NPCs. Always have your hand up to yap about something,” he complains, clicking his tongue. “That stops today.”

Whatever protest or retort you had for him dies in your throat the second he shows you the picture on his screen.

It's you.

It's you, but… Not a photo of you anyone was ever supposed to see.

You swallow with difficulty, looking at him, then back at the picture, and finally back at him.

“How… did you get this?” you ask, feeling panic rise in your mind. You breathe slowly, trying to look as calm as possible.

“Does it matter ?” he counters, the crooked smile back on his lips. You hadn't noticed how dry they are, the flesh pale and cracking. “I have it. It would take me about…”

He pretends to count on his fingers, like he's talking to a child.

“1.7 seconds to send this to everyone at school. Maybe 1.9 to everyone you know.”

It's getting harder and harder to breathe. He's still showing you the picture, the image taunting you without mercy.

“Please…” you begin, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. But the man's ruby eyes are devoid of any pity, the grin hanging on his lips triumphant. “What do you want?” you end up whispering.

“Nothing much,” he shrugs, putting the phone back in his pocket, like it doesn't contain the weight of your entire existence in it. “Nothing you don't already give to others for free.”

The implication doesn't hit as much as it should. It's cold, so cold. You wish he had done this anywhere else.

“This- this would ruin my life, no one else can see it,” you beg slowly, your bottom lip trembling. The wind picks up again, going through your blouse with ease like the edge of a knife. You feel cold, exposed, and oh-so wholeheartedly desperate. “I’ll do anything.”

“Good,” he comments, his voice a few octaves deeper. The smile is gone. “Then start by shutting the fuck up.”

In an instant, he has your back pinned to him, a surprisingly strong arm restricting you at the waist. You bite back a scream of surprise, letting him handle you like a puppet. He hums behind you, seemingly pleased by your reaction. His body is so close to yours you can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck.

“That's a good girl,” he compliments in a mockingly light tone. It feels like he's talking to a dog.

His lips touch your neck, the ghost of a kiss, and you let out a small whimper. You know where this was going, now, and something in you had known since he showed you the picture, but you hadn't wanted to believe it. The smallest of tears falls down your cheeks, and you hope he doesn't notice.

But evidently, he does.

“Come on,” he groans, grip on your waist still tight, like he thinks you might try to run away. Where would you even go? “You don't cry when other guys do this to you. I know, I've seen you. Why do you cry when I do it?”

The chilling remark causes alarm in your mind: how long had he been watching for you for? How, where, when?

You can't let the thoughts continue before his lips are back on you, more firmly this time, right at the intersection where your shoulder and neck meet. His hair tickles your chin, oddly softer than you would have expected. It tickles a little.

Once he seems content with his positioning, you feel the tip of his tongue start caressing your skin, slow and curious at first, like a cat drinking milk. But as you twitch under his grip, he gets faster, bolder, like he's trying to devour your flesh. And you can't help it, can't help but lean closer to the feel of his warm tongue on your skin like a desperate whore, craving anything other than the harsh wind on your face.

“That's it”, he mutters in the crook of your neck, “fuck, yeah, that's it…”

He shifts a little, and you feel how hard he is behind you, clothed cock shoved against your ass.

You start to pull away when you hear him use his free hand to pull down his zipper.

“No, wait, Shigaraki-”

“Relax,” he says plainly, his arm not budging a single inch despite your struggle. “I'm not a fucking monster. I'll just take care of this.”

The words do little to reassure you, but you settle down once more, letting him pull his pants down behind you. When he brings you flush against his chest again, you feel his naked cock rub against your uniform skirt. But he doesn't do anything further; instead, his mouth goes back to your neck, and sucks on the same spot he's been abusing for what feels like hours. You let out a moan, less of pain, and more of a very unwelcomed pleasure. He groans at that, and you can feel his free hand moving up and down his shaft, quick and rough.

He licks you like a starved man, like you're the last thing on Earth he'll ever taste. It's messy, wet, a trail of saliva gliding down your back, and every now and then he'll bite with teeth sharper than an animal’s. And it's warm, so delightfully warm in this freezing autumn morning you can't help but bring yourself even closer to him and moan approvingly.

It doesn't take long before he's close, groaning and grunting inaudible words under his breath. You can't be sure, but it sounds like he's repeating “good girl” over and over, like a mantra. One last pump behind you and he cums in his hand, mouth gripped on your collarbone like a vice. It takes him a moment to stop panting and collect himself, and you absentmindedly think this must be the first time he's done anything like this with another person.

You fall to your knees the second he lets you go, not having realized how much you had relied on the support of his body. Your legs feel like putty, your skin like it's on fire.

A hand reaches out to you, and you look up in surprise. He doesn't look directly at you, suddenly strangely bashful when considering what he had been doing seconds prior. You take his hand, slender fingers wrapping around yours to bring you up.

“Thanks,” he says, and it's all so odd, because why is he thanking you now? You didn't exactly stay here out of the kindness of your heart.

“You're welcome,” you reply awkwardly. You realize with some surprise you're still holding his hand, and you let it go. It feels oddly empty.

“Be back here tomorrow. 6 am still.”

He could remind you of the picture, of what's at stake here; but he doesn't. Instead, he puts his hoodie back on and heads towards the door to the inside. He stops at the last second, throwing you one last look with those eerie eyes of his:

“You should probably go change before class starts. You got some on your skirt.”

And just like that, he's gone, and you're alone on the rooftop again. Your mind can only muster a single thought as you stare at the rusty door.

It's cold.

[aylacavebear]

Soulmates? Yeah, right, pft. - Ch. 34

When you turn sixteen, and your soulmate's name doesn’t appear anywhere on your body that you can find, you figure you had to be the only person on the planet who didn’t have one. Most of the town shuns you, so you stick close to family. Your Aunt Ellen raised you after your parents died in a car crash when you were two, but what happens when the Winchesters return to town and buried secrets begin to come to light?

Pairing: Mechanic Dean Winchester x OC Reader/You

Word Count: 7399

Warnings: Dean being Dean, Fluff (near the end), Angst, Premonition, A look inside the PP&P, tense situations.

A/N: This is my non-Supernatural fic I'm attempting. Please let me know what you think, as I always love hearing from my readers.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 34

Of course it wasn’t over. The thought played on a relentless loop in your mind. Cole being in custody wouldn’t be enough. Deep down, you had known that, even if you hadn’t wanted to admit it. After the premonition had ended and you’d woken up, there was no going back to sleep. You tried—focusing on the steady rhythm of Dean’s breathing beside you, the warmth of his presence—but it was no use. An hour later, you’d slipped out of bed and made your way to the kitchen, careful not to disturb him. Using the bubble technique, you shielded your thoughts, unwilling to mar the memory of his birthday with the weight of your vision. It was still early, very early, not even four yet. You wanted him to keep those dreams—of laughter, of you—for just a little longer.

Now, seated at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in hand, you stared at the pad of paper in front of you. Your handwriting scrawled across the page, disjointed notes capturing fragments of the vision. Occasionally, you reread what you’d written, trying to pinpoint what had been important. What are the damned constants? 

You sighed in frustration, the tip of your pen tracing absentminded doodles in the margins. At the top of your list was the license plate number and the state—clear as day in your memory. Next came the details about the man whose face hovered at the edge of recognition. Then Cole. And lastly, the truck. 

You exhaled sharply, pushing away from the table and refilling your mug. The caffeine wasn’t helping much, but the ritual of it gave your restless hands something to do. As you sipped, the faintest flicker of hope stirred—a memory. Missouri. Her number was still in your phone.

The idea ignited urgency. You flicked on the living room lamp and scanned the coffee table, sifting through yesterday’s clutter and the books from Crowley that had been left forgotten, until your phone came into view. Relief bloomed as you snatched it up and returned to the kitchen, the warm mug cradled in your other hand.

As you opened the call app, her number was there, sitting at the top. Then, you glanced at the time and frowned. It was just after five. Is it too early to call? Just as you thought that, your phone rang in your hands. An amused yet quiet chuckle slipped out, seeing Missouri’s number on the caller ID.

Before you could say anything, she was speaking, “What’s the matter, sugar?” She was concerned, having been pulled from her coffee by an image of you.

“I had another premonition last night. It’s about Cole,” you began, keeping your voice down so you didn’t wake Dean. You really didn’t want him to worry.

On the other end of the line, Missouri sat up a little straighter in her chair, worry prickling along the back of her neck. “What did you see?”

You recounted the premonition to her, your words deliberate as you relayed the vivid and muted details, the stark clarity of the license plate, and the figure in the courtroom. Missouri listened intently, the scratch of her pen barely audible as she jotted down notes. It was hard to know exactly what the consistent was without reviewing the premonition herself, but she had enough of an idea.

“You said that man was in the courtroom as well?” she asked, her voice steady but sharp with focus.

“Yes,” you confirmed. “He was sitting three rows back, near the door on the Vaught’s side of the courtroom,” that hope only growing instead of the fear you would have typically felt. 

For a few moments, Missouri was silent as she made more notes. Then her voice came through, calm but resolute, “I’ll take care of this.”

“Thank you. I just didn’t know who else could help,” you told her, the tension and frustration slowly leaving your muscles.

“You did the right thing,” she said softly. There was something soothing in her tone, the same quiet strength that you had felt when you met her in person. “We’ll get this handled.”

The call ended, and the morning no longer felt like the weight of it would crush you. The knot that had been in your stomach slowly unwound itself as you relaxed into your chair. Setting your phone down and sipping your coffee, you let the quiet calm of the bunker seep into you. Carefully, you let the bubble around you dissipate the more you relaxed. The last thing you wanted was for Dean to wake up to the tension that had coursed through you earlier. 

—----------------------

Missouri studied her notes, her pen tapping idly against the pad as she sipped her coffee. The pieces of the puzzle were there, scattered across the page, but they didn’t quite fit together yet. She knew of Pamela’s warning to you about staying in the bunker past Dean’s birthday. But Pamela was vague on things when there were multiple outcomes, multiple possibilities of how things might play out.

She knew Pamela had her reasons, of course. Premonitions were delicate things, especially when multiple outcomes were in play. Too much information could tip the scales, turning a benign situation into a disaster—or worse. Missouri had seen it happen before. That was the tricky part about being an empath. The constants were always there, but it was the subtle differences, the tiny threads in the weave of fate, that determined everything. Pamela tended to work in those threads, weaving her warning sparingly, leaving room for flexibility.

It was still too early to deal with the PP&P—bureaucracy wasn’t known for its punctuality. Instead, Missouri opened her laptop, her fingers moving with practiced precision as she began digging into the license plate number you’d given her. Her work with the agency came with certain privileges, and access to databases most people didn’t even know existed was one of them.

Her search yielded results in seconds. Missouri’s sharp eyes scanned the screen, taking in the details: registered to a red, Chevrolet El Camino, linked to a name that set off warning bells in her mind. She paused, a frown deepening the lines on her face.

“What did you see, Pamela?” she whispered as the possibilities began teasing her thoughts.

The phone on the table beside her laptop buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts. She reached for it, already sensing who was on the other end.

“Pamela,” she greeted smoothly, her voice calm but tinged with curiosity. “I was just thinking about you.” “Don’t flatter yourself,” Pamela quipped, though her tone lacked its usual playfulness. There was a weight in her voice, a weariness Missouri picked up on immediately.

“What’s got you calling this early, sugar?” Missouri asked, leaning back in her chair, her fingers laced around her coffee mug.

Pamela sighed, the sound crackling softly through the line. “You know why.” “I have my suspicions,” Missouri replied, her tone measured. She decided to prod gently; Pamela wasn’t one to be rushed. “You’ve been awfully cryptic with those two. Something you want to tell me outright, or are we dancing around it today?”

“Missouri…” Pamela hesitated, and that alone spoke volumes. She wasn’t usually one to waver. “It’s complicated.” “It always is,” Missouri said, her voice softening just enough to coax her friend. “But you called me, which means it’s time to uncomplicate it.” Pamela exhaled sharply, as though the words she was about to speak had been sitting heavy on her chest. “The warning I gave them? About staying in the bunker? I had to be sure which path things would take. You know that.” Missouri’s grip tightened on her mug, “Go on.”

Pamela’s voice dropped, tinged with a rare seriousness. “You remember Gordon Walker?”

Missouri didn’t answer right away, her eyes reading the same name on the page pulled up on her laptop. “I remember him,” she said finally, her voice low and thoughtful. “You think he’s involved?” It was a prodding question, she knew that, but she needed Pamela to share what she’d seen.

“I know he is,” Pamela said, the weariness giving way to urgency. “I thought it might happen before Cole’s arrest. Or when he was being transferred to prison. I had even seen Gordon helping him the night he planned on killing Dean after he’d been released.” Pamela sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her free hand. These were the difficulties with so many different possibilities, never knowing which one would happen. “I had to be sure before I called. He’s how Cole escapes. And if that happens, Dean will die.” For several long moments, neither woman spoke. Missouri knew Pamela had to be sure before she acted on any premonition she had. “I’ll take care of it. Do you happen to know Gordon’s current location?”

Pamela didn’t hesitate this time. “The motel off route 27, the same one along the PP&P’s planned transfer route. Room 15,” she replied, already having seen several different outcomes of giving this information to Missouri. 

Missouri’s lips pressed into a thin line as she grabbed her notepad, scribbling down the details. “Thanks for the information, sugar. This’ll be handled quickly.”

She ended the call, her eyes drifting back to the laptop screen. The pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place, but the picture they formed was messy and dangerous. “So much for this going smoothly,” she sighed on her way to get another cup of coffee. By seven, Missouri was pulling into the parking lot of the PP&P’s main office building. This wasn’t the kind of thing you could handle over the phone or email—too many moving parts, too much room for error. Some things demanded a personal touch. 

The January air bit at her skin as she stepped out of her car, her breath misting in the cold. She pulled her coat tighter around her as she crossed the lot, reaching the front doors just as the receptionist turned the key in the lock. Missouri offered a polite nod as she stepped inside, warmth and fluorescent light chasing away the frost.

The building was deliberately unassuming—a plain brick structure designed to blend into the sprawl of business’ along the main road. Inside, it was the same: neutral walls, standard-issue carpeting, and the faint hum of office equipment. It was functional, not flashy, just like the people who worked here. Well, all except one.

Missouri exchanged brief greetings as she made her way up to the second floor. Her heels clicked against the tiles, the sound echoing faintly in the quiet morning. She stopped in front of a door with a small plaque reading C. Bradbury, knocking twice before pushing it open.

Charlie was already there, as Missouri knew she would. She was perched behind her desk, her bright red hair framing her face as it fell in waves halfway down her back, fingers flying across her keyboard. A half-empty energy drink sat beside her monitor, a testament to her reputation as one of the agency’s best—and busiest.

“Missouri!” Charlie greeted brightly, looking up with a grin that was equal parts genuine and mischievous. “You’re here early. Let me guess: something’s on fire, and you need me to put it out?”

Missouri raised an eyebrow, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “Something like that, sugar,” she replied, setting her notepad on Charlie’s desk. “I’ve got a report that needs filling, and it can’t wait.”

Charlie’s grin faded slightly as she saw the tension in Missouri’s expression. She picked up the notepad, scanning the notes with quick, practiced eyes. “Gordon Walker,” she murmured, her tone shifting to something more serious. “This guy’s a real piece of work. And you want a transport reroute for Cole, too?”

Missouri nodded, crossing her arms. “That’s right. Gordon’s planning to help Cole escape. If he pulls it off, Dean Winchester dies.”

Charlie had helped with several things involving the Y/L/N and Winchester files over the years. To her, the whole thing was a complete mess, but protocols had to be followed. The short of it meant that she couldn’t do anything without one of the empaths on the payroll to see something so it could be stopped. She set the notepad down, her fingers already moving back to her keyboard. “All right, give me a sec. I’ll start the paperwork for Walker’s collection and run the reroute program with the new intel about a guaranteed escape.” The girl had an automated program for just about anything. 

Missouri offered a faint smile. “I need to go put in the report of Y/N’s premonition. I’ll stop back in before I head out,” she stated as she headed toward the office door. “Thanks, Charlie,” she added softly before leaving the office.

But Charlie was already focused on the laptop in front of her, eyes moving nearly as fast as her fingers flew across the keyboard again. Charlie was one of Missouri’s favorites at the office—brilliant, resourceful, and just the right amount of reckless.

As she approached the records office, Missouri’s thoughts lingered on Charlie. The girl was a firecracker—too smart for her own good sometimes—but Missouri appreciated that kind of ingenuity. Charlie had found her way into the agency by hacking her way into their system, and instead of pressing charges, they’d offered her a job. That same boldness was why Missouri trusted her to get things done right, no matter how messy the situation was.

The records clerk glanced up as Missouri entered, a manila folder tucked under her arm. “Morning, Missouri. Got something for me?”

“Morning, Hannah,” Missouri greeted with a polite smile, sliding the notepad across the counter. “Need this filed under urgent—Y/N’s first clear premonition. It’s been confirmed by Pamela.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow, but didn’t ask questions. She knew better than to dig into empath business. Instead, she set the current file aside. There was only one file under your name, since you’d come into your empathic abilities so late in your life. Hannah sat in front of her computer, pulling up the necessary report, then began entering the information Missouri had provided of your premonition.

“First real premonition and already flagged urgent,” Hannah murmured, mostly to herself, as she began entering the details Missouri provided.

“You’re on top of things as always,” she said after a moment, her tone half-admiring, half-teasing.

Missouri chuckled lightly. “Somebody has to be. Y/N has been through more than anyone should have to go through. She deserves to live a happy life and not have to look over her shoulder every day.”

It was cases like yours as to why Missouri had joined the PP&P. There weren’t many, but to Missouri, even one was too many. No one should have that sort of power over anyone’s life, to twist it into fear and uncertainty. 

Hannah paused as she realized what the information entailed, glazing up at Missouri. “The Cole thing still isn’t over? Wasn’t he scheduled for transport today?” she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Not yet. If all goes well on Charlie’s end, it should be over in a few days. She’s also working on Cole’s transport,” Missouri sighed but now understood why Pamela had told you and Dean to stay in the bunker for the three days following Dean’s birthday. It almost made her chuckle.

Hannah went back to entering the information into the form. There were a few different options to choose before sending it. This one, it got the highest priority mark possible—Life Threatening. That one wasn’t used lightly. The consequence for misusing it was instant termination. “All right. I forwarded a copy to the Collection Unit, Charlie, you, and the man in charge,” Hannah explained, looking back up at Missouri. “The Collection Unit should be in the briefing room in ten.”

“Thanks, Hannah,” Missouri replied, smiling slightly to herself. 

Missouri stepped into the hallway, her thoughts on how things might end up going. Pamela hadn’t given her much to go on, but they’d make a plan for several different outcomes. What gnawed at her, though, was the question of how Walker had gotten ahold of the transfer details in the first place.

Five minutes before the scheduled time, Missouri stepped into the briefing room. The space was utilitarian, like the rest of the building—white walls, a long table surrounded by mismatched chairs, and a projector mounted to the veiling. A faint hum from the overhead lights filled the quiet as she set her notepad on the table and claimed a seat near the head.

The Collection Unit trickled in, one by one. Missouri didn’t need her abilities to sense the varying degrees of skepticism and readiness each member carried. A few nodded in her direction as they entered; others glanced at her with guarded curiosity. It wasn’t every day a report came down with a Life Threatening tag attached.

By the time Charlie slipped in with her ever-present energy drink in hand, the room was full. She gave Missouria a quick thumbs-up as she sank into a chair near the laptop plugged into the projector.

“All right, let’s get started,” said Victor Henriksen, the unit’s lead, as he entered last, a manila folder tucked under his arm. His no-nonsense demeanor fit the tone of the room. He didn’t bother sitting, instead standing at the head of the table and flipping open the folder. “We’ve got an urgent situation flagged for immediate action. Missouri, since this report originated from you, you’re up.” Missouri stood, her notepad in hand, and glanced around the room. “Earlier this morning, I filed a report based on a verified promotion from Y/N Y/L/N. The vision detailed an imminent escape involving Cole Vaught during his scheduled transport. If successful, this escape will lead to the death of Dean Winchester.”

A low murmur rippled through the room. Henriksen’s expression didn’t change, though his sharp gaze swept across the team.

“Cole Vaught?” One of the younger agents, Tyler, leaned forward. “Isn’t he already cuffed and scheduled for transport today?” “That’s correct,” Missouri replied evenly. “But Gordon Walker—yes, that Walker—is planning to intervene. He has the exact transport details and intends to help Cole escape.”

Charlie tapped a few keys on her laptop, and a projection lit up the far wall. A map appeared, showing the planned route and key points marked in red. “I reran the logistics with the updated intel,” she said, her voice taking on a professional tone. “This is the current route. Walker’s interference is most likely at these two choke points—one near the river crossing and the other at the fuel stop here.” She pointed to the red marks on the map. “Both are low visibility areas with easy access to secondary roads.”

“What’s the source of the intel?” Henriksen asked, his tone sharp but not accusatory.

“Y/N’s premonition, confirmed by Pamela Barnes,” Missouri said, meeting his gaze. “And we both know Pamela doesn’t confirm anything unless she’s absolutely sure.”

Henricksen nodded, his skepticism tempered by respect for Pamela’s track record. “Fair enough. What’s the plan?” Missouri straightened, that nagging feeling still in the back of her thoughts, which she wasn’t ignoring. “Knowing the transport has been compromised, emergency measures have been taken. Your team’s job is to collect Walker at the motel he’s staying in.”

Charlie clicked a few more keys on her laptop, the projection changing to a map of the motel and surrounding area, key points marked in red. “He chose a good location to stay in. This motel has windows in the bathrooms, allowing for a quick escape,” she began explaining, pointing out the spots on the map as she went.

“Walker has carefully alluded being pinned to any premonitions. This one, he can’t get out of and, so far, has no knowledge of. It’s a stealth mission. He can’t see any of you coming, or he’ll bolt before you get close,” she continued.

Charlie explained the specifics while Missouri quietly observed each person of the Collection Unit. To her dismay and relief, there was nothing that would lead to a leak coming from any of them. The room began to buzz with movement as the agents moved with purpose, Henrickson leading the way. They cleared out of the room quickly with a strict plan in place. “You think they’ll get him this time?” Charlie asked, not sure if she should be hopeful that things would work out.

Missour moved to stand next to her, her gaze shifting around the room for a moment before landing on Charlie. “Who has had access to the files regarding Cole?” she asked, her tone hushed and laced with concern.

Charlie looked up at her, slightly puzzled. “Just the ones that always do for cases like this. Why?”

Missouri sighed, knowing this would take more digging than a simple question. “I need you to trace who looked at files and then made phone calls from their personal numbers. Cross-reference it with the four other cases similar to Y/N’s. The missing soulmate name cases.”

Chalie’s face not only lit up, but realization finally dawned on her. “You think there’s a leak.”

“Keep it to yourself for now,” Missouri warned, her voice firm but quiet. “Just, find out for me,” Missouri told her, then headed out of the room. There was nothing more she could do now until she heard back from Charlie.

Missouri stood near the observation window on the third floor, arms crossed as she watched the activity on the landing pad below. The late morning sun glinted off the sleek, dark helicopter waiting on the concrete, its rotors turning lazily in anticipation of liftoff. Around it, agents moved with precision, securing the area and checking every last detail of the transport plan. 

It had been less than an hour since the report had been filed with Hannah. Due to the urgency of the case, Cole was being moved in the only way that guaranteed he couldn’t escape while the Collection Unit was moving into place to collect Walker. The heavy metal doors to the sub-levels creaked open, drawing her gaze. Missouri’s jaw tightened as she caught sight of him—Cole Vaught, hands and feet shackled, flanked by two heavily armed agents. His orange jumpsuit made him stand out like a beacon against the dull grays of the landing pad.

Even in the distance, Missouri could feel the simmering hatred rolling off him, a storm held in check only by the restraints and the grim determination of the men escorting him. He was dangerous, no doubt about that. Not just because of what he was capable of physically, but because of the devastation he would cause if he were free. Dean Winchester’s name was on the top of that list, thanks to Cole’s obsession with you and your empathic lineage.

Missouri pressed her lips into a thin line, her thoughts turning inward. Thanks to Pamela confirming what you’d seen in your premonition, she didn’t need the approval of the Director for this type of transport, even with such short notice. Even with the guarantee that no one could interfere with this type of transport, Missouri couldn’t shake that uneasy weight that settled in her chest.

Walker had to have inside help. There was no other way he could’ve gotten the original transport details so easily. The obvious conclusion pointed to a leak in their ranks, but identifying the culprit wasn’t going to be easy, even if only a handful of people had been involved with the logistics. 

Her gaze shifted back to Cole as the agents brought him closer to the helicopter. He moved with a cocky swagger, despite the chains, his head covered by a black cloth so he couldn’t even take in his surroundings. She knew he was smirking under the hood, could feel it radiating off him. It was the kind of expression that made her want to slap it off his face. He still seemed to think he was getting out of this, and that struck a nerve.

Missouri’s thoughts drifted to you and Dean. The two of you had been through so much already, and this wasn’t a burden either of you should have to bear. You’d had your parents ripped away from you by a family that only wanted you for your empathic lineage and your ability to have premonitions of things to come. Then there was Dean. A good man led astray by a vile woman who the Vaughts had paid to keep him as far away from you as possible until it was too late. Luckily, that had been stopped, thanks to a judge Missouri had spoken with, nudging things alone in the background. A small smile found her lips as she thought back to that day, months ago now, before your case had ever been presented. The judge never would have even looked at it, had it not been for Missouri’s call.

A tap on the window pulled her from her thoughts. Charlie stood there, holding a tablet. It wasn’t a company-issued device, and Missouri couldn’t help but smile at Charlie’s resourcefulness. Missouri motioned for her to come closer, both women now watching as Cole was loaded onto the chopper. Neither woman spoke as the agents secured Cole in place, and then three of them joined the other three inside. Just as the helicopter began lifting into the air, Charlie turned to Missouri.

“Think this’ll work?” she asked, still not sure how things would turn out.

“It should,” Missouri replied before looking at the red-head. “Any luck?”

Charlie held the tablet so Missouri could see what had come up based on the key phrases she had put into her program to search the company’s entire database. “Nothing out of the ordinary on this one. Just the usual people involved with the cases you asked about.” 

Missouri nodded, appreciating Charlie’s determination. “What about the other thing?”

Charlie hesitated, then pulled up the other search she’d done. Only one name appeared. Missouri’s stomach dropped, as it was the one name she had been worried about but hadn’t let her thoughts drift completely in that direction. Neither woman spoke. The gravity of the name meant this needed to be handled very carefully. 

For a few moments, they just watched the helicopter as it ascended higher into the air. Missouri knew Charlie would keep this quiet until they could formulate a plan. They had to find out how to prove the information had been leaked.

“I’ll find you when my ghost program finishes retrieving what we need,” Charlie told her. Then, she headed back to her office, knowing it could take a few hours to get exactly what they needed.

—--------------------

The sub-level holding area was a stark contrast to the bustling activity above. Cold concrete walls absorbed sound, muffling every step and voice into an oppressive silence. It wasn’t designed for comfort, only control.

Gordon Walker was brought in with two agents flanking him, their grips firm on his arms. He moved willingly, almost casually, his head held high as though he were a guest rather than a detainee. The cuffs on his wrists and the chains at his ankles clinked with every step, but he carried himself as though they didn’t matter.

“Well, well,” Walker drawled, his voice echoing faintly in the quiet space. “Sub-level accommodations, huh? Didn’t know I rated the VIP treatment.” Neither agent responded, their expressions impassive as they led him to the intake area. A third agent stood waiting by a metal table, a clipboard in hand. Walke’s sharp eyes took in the layout, his smirk widening.

“Not much of a decorator, are you?” he remarked, nodding toward the bare walls. “Bet this place really gets the ladies swooning.” “Keep moving,” one of the agents barked, shoving him forward.

Walker stumbled slightly but recovered with an exaggerated grin. “Easy there, hero. You’re gonna bruise my delicate ego.” The intake procedure was swift and methodical. The agents removed his handcuffs and instructed him to strip. Walker complied without hesitation, though not without commentary.

“Usually, I get dinner first,” he quipped as he tossed his shirt onto the table.

One of the agents, a woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, didn’t so much as flinch. “Save it,” she said flatly, handing him the orange jumpsuit.

“Ah, prison chic,” Walker said, holding it up as though appraising a fine suit. “Really brings out my eyes, don’t you think?” The agent ignored him, stepping back as he changed. Another agent ran a handheld scanner over his body, checking for hidden weapons or devices.

“You know,” Walker began, his tone conversational, “all this effort for little ol’ me. Almost makes me feel special. But let me save you some time—this isn’t gonna stick.” “Quiet,” the male agent said, his patience clearly wearing thin.

Walker didn’t stop. “No, really. You think slapping me in a cell changes anything? The game’s already in play, sweetheart. And spoiler alert—you’re losing.”

The woman agent stepped closer, her gaze cold and steady. “You talk too much, Walker.” He grinned, leaning in just slightly. “Oh, I haven’t even started, darling.” The cell door clanged open, cutting off whatever comeback he’d planned. Without ceremony, they led him inside, securing the door behind him with a sharp metal clang. Walked turned to face them, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Home sweet home,” he said, spreading his arms as he surveyed the tiny, windowless room. “You know, I’ve seen closets with more personality.” The agents left without another word, the heavy door sealing shut behind them. Walker’s smirk lingered as he lowered himself onto the hard cot, his back against the wall and his arms stretched across his knees.

He wasn’t worried. Not yet. This was just another move on the board, and Gordon Walker always played the long game.

—------------------------

Missouri had been watching from the observation room, her eyes fixed on the screens that covered the walls. Each monitor displayed a different angle, capturing every detail of Walker’s processing. She’d turned on the audio, listening to every word that spilled from his mouth. Walker really believed he was getting out of this, like he was untouchable, and his confidence grated on her. 

With a sigh and a flicker of hope, Missouri headed outside, where one of the Collection Team had parked Walker’s car. Henricksen stood nearby, flanked by three other agents. Missouri knew this was going to be difficult, as Walker had used several different techniques over the years to get out of premonitions that had been about him. 

“Ladies first,” Henrickson stated, gesturing to the car.

Missouri pursed her lips, steadying herself for any visions that would come from interacting with Walker’s belongings. She approached the car with measured steps, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. Letting out a breath, she reached for the driver’s side door handle. The moment her fingers touched the cool metal of the handle, a jolt of sensation shot through her. Flashes of chaotic images flooded her mind.

A dimly lit motel room. Walker pacing with his phone pressed to his ear, his voice love and conspiratorial. Papers spread across the bed, maps with routes circled in red. An array of tools placed neatly on the edge of the bed.

Missouri tightened her grip on the door, her knuckles whitening as she forced herself to sift through the barrage of impressions. Getting visions like this wasn’t always easy, but she’d honed the skill over the years.

A man’s voice, calm and authoritative, echoed faintly in her head. “You know the plan. Keep it clean.”

Walker’s smirk, his confidence unshaken, even as he replied, “When have I ever let you down?”

Missouri’s eyes snapped open, and she released the handle, taking a step back. She pressed a hand to her temple, grounding herself as the aftershocks of the vision faded. Henricksen was beside her in an instant, his brow furrowed. “What did you see?” he asked, his tone low but urgent.

She shook her head, her expression grim. “He’s been planning this since the court hearing. He’s got a contact—a professional, someone who knows how to play the system. I couldn’t get a clear look at his face, but Walker trusts him.” Henricksen’s jaw tightened. “Did you get anything useful? A name? A location?”

Missouri frowned. “Nothing that you didn’t confiscate already. Walker was confident, cocky even when they took him through processing. There has to be something else. Something he’s hiding.” One of the agents, a tall man with a no-nonsense air, spoke up. “If Walker’s that sure of himself, there’s gotta be more to this. Maybe there’s something in the car. He loves this thing. Walker said all sorts of choice words when I grabbed the keys to bring it here.” Henricksen nodded. “Search it. Every inch of it.”

Missouri stepped back as the agents moved in, opening doors and popping the trunk, searching with methodical precision. She crossed her arms, her gaze fixed on the car as they worked. Her mind was elsewhere, replaying the vision in hopes of pinpointing more details. 

This wasn’t the first time Walker had been implicated in things, and Missouri didn’t believe in coincidences anymore. The other four cases, similar to yours. Sadly, even with the premonitions coming from reputable empaths, he’d been released. They had never been able to find anything that directly tied him to the things that were yet to happen back then.

Her thoughts were interrupted when one of the agents let out a sharp whistle. “Got something!”

Henricksen and Missouri moved closer as the agent held up a small, nondescript flash drive. It had been tucked in a secret compartment near the driver’s seat in the center console. If it weren’t for the thoroughness of the agent, the seamless hiding place wouldn’t have been found.

“Think you can get anything from this?” Henricksen asked, taking the thumb drive and handing it over to Missouri.

Missouri held it carefully, her fingers brushing the smooth surface. The faintest whisper of an impression tickled at the edges of her mind, but it was murky, incomplete. “Not here,” she finally said, choosing to keep information to herself at the moment. “You might be collecting someone else today. So, keep your team ready. I doubt there is more in the car, but be thorough, just in case.”

Henricksen nodded. “Understood” 

With a final glance at the car, Missouri turned, the flash drive clutched tightly in her hand as she headed back toward the building. There was no telling what secrets it had, but she knew one thing for certain: Gordon Walker wasn’t just playing a game. He was playing to win, and he wasn’t alone.

—-----------

Charlie had been sitting at her desk, taking care of regular day-to-day tasks as her ghost program ran on her personal tablet. She tended to get away with a lot more than others due to how smart she was. Most times, she thought better on her feet, in the moment when a plan was needed immediately. The name that had come up in her second search was lit up in her mind like a flashing neon sign. She wasn’t one to get involved in the close-to-home stuff. She preferred the safety of her desk, the predictability of her routines. But this?

Her nerves were on edge, and the slightest sound or knock on her door made her jump. Every now and then, her eyes would glance over at her tablet, watching as it would snag up another piece of evidence, then continue on its search. There were well over twenty documents it had found. If it had only found one, it would have been enough. 

A sharp knock on her door made her flinch. She relaxed only slightly when Missouri entered, her presence steadying. “Found anything yet?” she asked, closing the door behind her.

Charlie nodded toward the tablet, her expression grim. “Plenty. And if half of what’s on here is legit, we’re in deep trouble.”

Missouri joined Charlie behind her desk, discretely handing her the flash drive. “This was hiding in Walker’s car. It hasn’t been added to the official inventory yet. I need you to find out what’s on it.” she explained, glancing briefly at the cameras that watched the room. Cameras that were supposed to be there to keep everyone honest, but the leak had found a way around them.

Charlie's brows arched. She hadn’t gotten to break into something in a long while. It was almost like a game to her, and part of her missed it. She snatched it from Missouri’s fingers, then plugged it into her tablet. No point in altering anyone in the company as to what she was up to.

Missouri watched in silence as Charlie began another automated program to hack into the flash drive. Her fingers danced across the keypad on the screen, entering commands into her program as it began going through different types of encryption breakers. Missouri didn’t understand the language of computers, not like Charlie did.

In less than a minute, Charlie was smiling happily when the main directory for the flash drive popped up on her tablet. “Bingo,” she uttered, clicking on one of the folders.

“What do we have here?” Missouri asked, leaning a little closer.

Charlie didn’t answer immediately. Her eyes scanned the different file names, but they were only marked with a few letters followed by a set of numbers. They didn’t make much sense, at least not yet. Charlie clicked one of them open, quickly reading the information outlined. She plopped back against the back of her chair. “You wanted proof,” she practically chuckled, shaking her head slightly.

Missouri read over the document, her jaw clenching slightly. “What else is on there?” She needed to know just how far back it went. “Give me a minute,” Charlie replied, leaning forward, then clicking open other folders and other documents. “Emails, financial records, meeting logs. It’s all here. I’ve got the phone records from my ghost program. Looks like it goes back over thirty years” She leaned a little closer, then clicked on another folder marked with an innocuous label: Operations.

Charlie’s eyes went wide as she explored the folder, far too quickly for Missouri to keep up. “It looks like Walker is the face of whatever this shell company is,” her voice slightly trailing off. Records had to be kept somewhere, so keeping them on a flash drive made sense. Missouri didn’t even need to ask before Charlie was already working on the next step: tracing everything to its source.

“Keep this quiet. I need to talk to Henricksen. Is there anyone from the PP&P on the payroll?” Missouri asked, keeping her voice hushed. She needed to know who she could trust.

It only took Charlie a minute for a simple search such as that. “No. Just the one,” she answered without looking away from her tablet. Missouri gave Charlie’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You know what to do.” 

This was a delicate matter, but it had to be handled quickly, before Walker slipped through their fingers, again. 

—-------------------

Dean stirred awake sometime after eight, and even with your side of the bed empty, a grin still lingered on his lips. Yesterday had been one for the books, and he was still savoring every moment of it. He stretched lazily, his muscles flexing before he let out a contented sigh, sinking back into the mattress for just a beat longer. There was almost a skip to his step when he got out of bed, doing his regular morning routine before he slipped on a pair of boxers and went looking for you. For the first time in a long time, life felt good, like this was exactly where he was supposed to be.

The living room caught his attention first—cleaner than the night before—but it wasn’t enough to stop him as he continued into the kitchen. You were sitting at the table, your back to him, but there was a slight tension to you that he couldn’t quite place.

“Mornin’, Sweetheart,” he murmured, stepping close to press a kiss to your cheek, his hand resting gently on your opposite shoulder.

You nearly jumped, not realizing you’d been lost in your thoughts. Dean would have found it adorable if he’d been using the bubble technique so he could surprise you. “Alright,” he said, dragging a chair beside you so he could face you directly. “What’s wrong?”.

Your eyes met his as his worry began radiating through the connection. “Get some coffee, and I’ll tell you,” you sighed, knowing that he needed to know.

He frowned, but the softness in your eyes soothed him in a way he’d never get tired of. It wasn’t how you’d wanted to start the morning with him, but perhaps it could still be relaxing after you explained things.

An hour later, the coffee was gone, and Dean sat on the couch, his arm draped protectively around you. His mind churned, piecing together what you’d told him. Pamela’s warning made more sense than it had the day she had given it a week ago. Since Missouri hadn’t called you back with any sort of update, you could only tell Dean about your premonition and the call from her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked gently, his eyes searching yours, worried you were keeping your emotions to yourself to shield him for some reason. When your gaze fell from his, he instantly knew.

Dean tugged you closer, wrapping you in his arms, his closeness grounding you like it always did. “Please don’t hide in that bubble. I know you don’t want me to worry, but when you pull back like that, I worry,” he said softly, a plea he hoped you’d understand.

What he couldn’t put into words were the emotions connected to them, and you felt them all as they made their way through the bond. Placing your hand over his heart, you took a shaky breath. “I just hate it when you worry,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

He sighed but found it a little endearing how you wanted to shield him from anything unpleasant. “You can’t keep me from worrying. I’m gonna do that regardless. The part that you can do is be there for me, like you have been. Like you are now, and my worry goes away, mostly,” he explained, chuckling a little at the end. Both of you were worrywarts, and you both knew it.

Pamela’s whispered words to him that day drifted through his mind again, “She’s gonna be okay. Both of you are. Just do what I said, and things will turn out like you’ve been hoping for.” He’d been trying to reassure you that things would be okay, but it was getting harder not to doubt that. Dean quickly shook the thought from his head, refusing to let anything take away his hope. “What do you say to having cake for breakfast like a couple of teenagers who snuck into the kitchen while their parents were sleeping?” Dean asked playfully, wanting to lighten the mood and make you smile again. 

You looked up at him, unable to keep from smiling, and a giggle slipped out when you caught the playful glint in his eyes. “Do I get my own piece this time?” you asked, being just as playful, grateful for the way he could just pull you out of things that threatened to consume you.

When that damned smirk found his lips, you already knew the answer to your question. “Nope. My cake. I get to do with it what I want,” he quipped before leaning a little closer. “If you’d let me, I’d eat it off of you and not use a plate,” the heat in his voice sent a thrill through your body and desire through the connection.

He chuckled at the way you responded, kissed you on the forehead, and then went to the kitchen to retrieve a slice of cake. One way or another, he was going to thoroughly enjoy these three days with you before the two of you could leave the safety of the bunker. Sure, there was still crap going on, but neither of you could actively do anything about it, and he was bound and determined to keep you smiling.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 35

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[mysteriousparableknowledge]

what is the use of AI?

Ai has gone from science fiction to the everyday reality. From voice assistants like Siri and Alexa to smart recommendations on Netflix and self-driving cars.

Artificial Intelligence has many aspects of our daily lives. For example, smartphones use AI to power voice assistants like Siri and facial recognition features that unlock your device effortlessly.

In healthcare, AI helps doctors by analyzing medical images and assisting in diagnosing diseases more quickly and accurately.

The finance sector relies on AI for detecting fraud and optimizing trading algorithms to make smarter investment decisions.

Transportation has seen advances like self-driving cars and AI-powered traffic prediction apps that help reduce congestion and suggest the fastest routes.

Even in entertainment, AI drives personalized recommendations on platforms like Netflix and Spotify, and controls adaptive non-player characters (NPCs) in video games to create more engaging experiences.

[theculturedmarxist]

> THREAD: The official narrative of how Luigi Mangione was apprehended doesn’t add up. Evidence suggests a deeper surveillance operation involving real-time facial recognition technology. Let’s delve into the inconsistencies and explore the implications. 🧵 Image Image >Considering Mangione’s efforts to conceal his identity, it’s improbable that a fast-food employee could identify him based solely on limited public images. We’re talking about a high-pressure, fast-paced environment where employees process hundreds of customers daily. >But what if the real key to his capture wasn’t human recognition at all? I’ll bet you didn’t know McDonald’s kiosk cameras have facial recognition technology: pointjupiter.com/work/mcdonalds/ >Given the integration of this technology, it’s not unlikely that federal agencies can access these systems for surveillance with real-time facial recognition across multiple venues. The NSA and other agencies already have a track record of using private surveillance networks. >Admitting the feds are running real-time facial recognition surveillance across the country would spark outrage. Instead, they sell a more "believable" narrative that a heroic employee saved the day. >If this is true, it means federal agencies have access to live camera feeds in private businesses, and they’re using AI to scan and identify individuals in real time. Surveillance isn’t limited to fugitives – it could extend to anyone, anywhere.

>This has massive implications for privacy and civil liberties. If McDonald’s can be used as a hub for mass surveillance, what about other chains? Grocery stores? Gas stations? The infrastructure is already there. Image >Kroger has faced scrutiny for using facial recognition tech too – and it’s even more dystopian. Not only are they scanning faces, but they’re linking that data to shopping profiles and potentially altering prices in real time based on your data. aclu.org/news/privacy-t… >This isn’t just about marketing – it’s surveillance capitalism on steroids. Corporations are turning our faces into data points to manipulate our spending, while the government secretly piggybacks off that infrastructure to track civilians. >We should demand transparency. If facial recognition is being used at this scale, we have a right to know. How much data are these companies collecting? Who else has access to this data, such as third parties and law enforcement? How are these technologies regulated, if at all? >We’re at a crossroads. If we don’t push back now, this kind of tech will become the norm. Surveillance will be baked into every facet of our lives, from shopping to dining to simply walking down the street. Image >The Mangione case and Kroger’s practices show us the future: a world where our faces are not just tracked but exploited, both by corporations seeking profit and governments seeking control. >We need transparency and accountability: Clear limits on the use of facial recognition tech, protections against price manipulation based on profiling, and strong oversight of government access to private surveillance networks. >This isn’t just a McDonald’s or Kroger issue – it’s a systemic shift. Facial recognition is becoming the foundation of a surveillance economy, and we must demand better protections now.

[cognitivejustice]

Digital innovations can elevate citizen science as an internationally recognized source of data used by policymakers and as a career opportunity for young people

The Enviro-Champs are a group of over a thousand people using citizen science to draw attention to water quality issues in South Africa.

“We work with the Enviro-Champs to support us on the ground to collect data on rivers”, said Futhi Vilakazi of uMngeni-uThukela Water.

Research by scientists at the International Water Management Institute (IWMI) and GroundTruth have shown that simple visual tools such as charts to identify and count lifeforms in rivers, or acrylic tubes to identify the clarity of water, can provide comparable results to laboratory tests.

Groups like the Enviro-Champs and other citizen scientists have readily adopted these tools, demonstrating the unique contribution that can come from co-engaged local communities. Citizen scientists can collect more data over longer periods, across large regions or with greater intensity. In one study*, volunteers monitored how water pollution from wastewater treatment works varied every day between 2012 and 2019. Less than two years after the treatment plant was made aware of this monitoring, their compliance with regulations shot up from zero to 60-70%.

Nonetheless, citizen science comes with its own challenges. The process remains highly manual and often paper-based, relying on the selfless dedication of volunteers to improve local issues. Although the community aspect can be a powerful motivator to local authorities, the data they collect are often seen as being too unreliable to use for management.

Through the CGIAR Initiative on Digital Innovation, IWMI, Groundtruth and key local partners are collaborating to develop technological upgrades that can transform the impact of citizen science.

This includes a smartphone app to digitize, geolocate and upload citizen science river health surveys, using the mini stream assessment scoring system (miniSASS), to an online platform. There have been >350 river health surveys submitted by citizen scientists in 2024. An image recognition AI function was created to recognize lifeforms in the river that indicate water quality, helping verify the data in real time.