#please computer i need you well.....please

[sylvianritual]

🇵🇸 Help Marah's family restore their lives!

I want to introduce you to the Baloushaa family, who are currently living in Gaza. The family lived in a beautiful house, and Mahmoud owned a shoe store that was doing well. Marah (@freepaleatine95) was studying computer engineering at Al-Azhar University, a subject she has a lot of interest and passion in. Mahmoud's business was successful and Marah's studies were going excellently. Their parents were proud of them for all they accomplished, and they had great dreams for their futures.

But even before the recent aggression starting on October 7th, this family had experienced profound loss. They lost their older brother in 2006, a stark reminder that the violence inflicted on Palestinians did not start within the past year, but has been a continued effort to wipe out their people. With the most recent escalation in violence, this family has been forced to experience loss again. They lost the beautiful house they lived in, and they lost the kittens that they cared for dearly. Mahmoud's business was destroyed as well as Marah's University and their lives have been frozen.

The picture above is their current living situation, they are trying to survive without proper shelter, exposed to the weather and illnesses. Their mother and father both suffer from diabetes, and their father has high blood pressure, the medicine for which is near impossible to obtain in Gaza. As winter approaches and the temperature drops, they will need proper clothing, blankets, and a heater. Their ultimate goal is to move the family to Egypt so they can access proper care for their parents, Marah can continue university, and they can rebuild their lives.

$10,393 / $50,000

Verification: the old account was shared by 90-ghost here. The GFM linked in this post is the same as the one above.

[tpwk-formula1]

i loveee your fics so sooo much!! could i order a gluten-free with red sauce, tomatoes, roasted peppers, garlic, a root beer and a pink lemonade for the drinks with dessert served by sir lewis hamilton pleaseee thank youu <3

Lee-Lee's Pizzeria Menu

gluten-free enemies to lovers red sauce rough sex tomatoes "do you enjoy pissing me off?" roasted peppers "such a good whore" garlic "I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy up" root beer daddy kink pink lemonade degrading kink dessert yes served by Lewis Hamilton

Lewis x enemy reader

TW quicky in public, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, use of the word slut

WC 1100+

Y/N POV

"Lewis, can you go back to the garage or something. Literally anywhere but in this room," I say while looking at my computer trying to get my work done before the race was set to begin in a few hours.

"I quite enjoy being in here though," Lewis said with a shrug and sat down in front of me making me groan and roll my eyes.

"Why are you fighting it?" Lewis questions making my face grow hot but I don't say anything.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" Lewis snapped making me instantly look up from my computer to find Lewis's hard gaze on me.

"Well?" Lewis questions again when I didn't answer him.

"I haven't even done anything to piss you off," I tell him softly not being confident in my own voice. Lewis just scoffs and shakes his head before standing and rounding the table that was once between us but now I'm sitting on top of it with Lewis between my legs making me gasp at how quickly it all changed.

"Stop denying us," Lewis whispers against my lips before placing a quick kiss and pulling back slightly to stare into my eyes.

Lewis and I didn't get along. I was the girl who forced him to do all his media responsibilities and one of the few people in Mercedes who doesn't bow down for him.

"Lewis, you have a race," I tell him softly knowing we both would lose track of time and he would be late.

"I can be quick. Can you?" Lewis asks with a smirk across his face. I just stare at Lewis before trailing my eyes towards the door to find it already locked. I realized this was exactly what Lewis had planned coming into here.

"Just be quick. Don't get me fired," I tell him while pulling at the back of his neck to pull him in for a kiss. Lewis quickly closes the gap between us and pulling me in for a messy make out session. One that always left me needing more.

"Stop fucking fighting with me," Lewis said against my lips before taking my bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a rough pull making me gasp at the shock of pain that when straight to my pussy turning me on almost instantly.

"Stop being an egotistical asshole," I fight back which resulted in Lewis laying a firm slap onto my covered tit. It made me jump and whimper but always just helped add to the throbbing going on between my thighs.

"Don't be a brat," Lewis says while pulling my shirt off leaving me in just my bra before he pulls off his shirt and makes quick work of unbuttoning his pants and pulling them off. Once he's bare he works on taking the rest of my clothes off making me whimper softly when the cool air hits my soaked pussy.

"God, you're dripping," Lewis teases before bringing his mouth down and sucking on my clit making me groan out loudly.

"Shut the fuck up, I don't need someone hearing your slutty sounds," Lewis says roughly making me nod my head and bite my lip to try and contain my moans.

Lewis went back to sucking on my clit while slipping two thick fingers into my pussy making me moan at the intrusion.

"So good Daddy," I gasp softly trying to keep my volume down but failing pretty miserably.

"God, you're so responsive," Lewis mumbles against my clit sending new vibrations through my body.

"Can I cum Daddy," I ask needing to cum.

"Beg for it," Lewis mumbled back.

"Please, Daddy. I need to cum so bad. I promise I'll stop fighting, I just need to cum for you Daddy please," I beg softly while shaking slightly from the pleasure coursing through my body. I was actively fighting off my orgasm.

"Such a good whore, cum for me," Lewis groans instantly throwing me over the edge when he takes my clit back into his mouth. I let out a loud pornographic moan knowing if someone was outside the door they would instantly know what was going on inside the room.

"Good girl," Lewis mumbled standing up after helping me ride my orgasm out.

I feel Lewis's tip starting to tease my clit making me whine slightly at the overstimulation before he slips right in making me gasp at being filled completely.

"Fuck Daddy," I moan softly when he starts rocking his hips softly stretching me out enough to take him without any pain.

"So fucking tight," Lewis groans making me whine when he starts thrusting a bit harder.

"God, I've spent so much time in this pussy and it's still tight as the first time," Lewis groans while starting to play with my clit making me gasp at the stimulation.

"So big Daddy," I whine when I feel Lewis's actions speed up again bringing me close to another orgasm.

"God I can feel you clenching to cum again," Lewis groans when his hips start to stutter slightly letting me know he was just as close to cumming as I was.

"Cum for me," Lewis groans before sending one last hard thrust and cumming in me throwing me into another orgasm and instantly starting to shake all over Lewis's cock.

"Fuck daddy," I whine feeling my orgasm last longer than normal. Lewis starts rocking his hips softly riding out our orgasms before slowly slipping out and placing a kiss of my forehead.

"You came in me, Lewis!" I announce loudly when the post orgasm haze wears off.

"I know you love it when I fill that pretty pussy up" Lewis said with a smirk as if it made the situation better.

"Lewis," I say seriously making him laugh softly. He pulls me into his arms and sits down in the chair near us letting me relax into his arms.

"I wasn't even thinking. I'm sorry," Lewis says softly after a few moments of silence.

"I mean it's kinda okay cause you're right I love the feeling of your cum filling me up," I saw with a soft smirk on my face. Lewis just smirks before placing a kiss on my lips.

"I knew you were my little cum slut," Lewis says seriously. My cheeks heat slightly at the nickname making me burry my face in Lewis's neck making him laugh softly.

"You need to go soon," I said softly when I looked at the clock near us and say that Lewis was expected to be in his fireproofs and near the car in 30 minutes.

"I can give you 5 more minutes of my time," Lewis says softly while still stroking my back.

"Did I push you too far?" Lewis questions softly making me shake my head no.

"It was perfect. Still can't stand you though," I saw with a small smirk on my face knowing we both knew that was a damn lie.

[ibtisams]

Hello dear,,,,

My name is Marah Baalousha from Gaza.

Computer engineering student

I hope you are well . 🇵🇸

I write to you with a heart full of hope and faith, and I ask for your urgent help. My family is in great danger due to the war, and I am running a fundraising campaign to save them. My father and mother suffer from diabetes and high blood pressure. Help me secure them

Please, any donation makes a difference in our lives, and every reblog helps reach as many people as possible. 🍉

Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any help you can provide. .

[dsireland86]

Hello ☺️ Hope your doing well.

Could I please request a Matt Dierkes one shot if possible him being a grumpy ass except to his wife?? Fluffy and cute 🙏

Oh you are my first Matt Dierkes one-shot! Yes! Thank you for the inspiration :)

Feeling on the Edge

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986

Matt drummed his fingers on his lap anxiously. I could tell he was in a bad mood, dying to get out of the video call meeting with the management team. His face said he was irritated and completely over the whole record label bull crap. He just wanted to be done.

Seeing how fidgety he was, I nudged his leg beneath the table with my foot hoping the friction was enough to tame his temper. He looked over at me and his dark eyes, full aggression, immediately softening.

I grinned at him to let him know I was still in his corner. He grinned back, took a deep breath, and refocused his attention on the computer screen, but not before reaching over and placing his hand on the inside of my thigh.

The rest of the day was hell for everyone, because Matt insisted on setting the world around him on fire. Every little thing that someone did annoyed him. Every word that was said, Matt had some sarcastic, snippy remark to follow it.

In the process of just three hours, he managed to break a computer monitor because he was too impatient, cut the wrong wire while attempting to splice a cable that Noah said was dead, spill Nicholas's coffee all down the front of him because he turned around too fast out of anger, dropped a mix board, misplaced his phone not once, not twice, but three times, and to top it all off, he had run out of Dr. Pepper.

"Dude, you need to calm the hell down! You starting to stress me out," Folio criticized him.

"Yeah, no joke. And if Folio is stressed then the rest of us are at the point of giving you a beatdown."

Matt glared at Noah who crossed his arms while leaning against the table. Matt didn't speak, but the look he was giving Noah screamed a big "fuck you".

"Well, it's not my fault. Those stupid pieces of shit at the record label treat me like I'm and idiot sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot! I know how to do my job!"

"Nobody is say you are, baby," I pointed out.

"Matt calm down, man. You know not to listen to those people."

Nicholas came walking into the conversation after switching to a pair of clean clothes.

"Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"

Matt's expression was of utter disgust, looking at Nick. All of us turned and stared, a few bursting into fits of laughter. Nick didn't match at all. Sporting a neon pink shit that was a little too snug and a pair of snake skin looking pants that were way too stretchy for him to be wearing, he looked ridiculous.

"What?" Nick shrugged with his hands up. "It's all I could find. If someone hadn't been so angry and turned around so fast," scowling over at Matt, "I wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh so it's my fault you look like a clown?" Matt snapped.

"Yeah, I kinda is," Nick shot back. "And your piss poor attitude!"

"What! I don't have a piss poor attitude! I've just had a fucked up day and all of you have added to it!"

"What! I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed defensively.

Matt's eyes quickly shifted over to me. "No, no, not you baby. You're fine. You haven't done anything wrong," he reassured me, smiling.

"Oh for god's sake, come on man! Your wife isn't that perfect," Folio groaned.

"Hey!"

"Mmm, I don't know, Folio, she's pretty perfect. I mean, you've had her cooking, and we all know that's she's done your laundry a few times, even finding the matches to your lost socks."

Folio looked at me, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah I guess so. Sorry, Y/N," he said leaning over and laying a sweet soft kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, well if you all are done flirting with my wife, I'd like to have her back now, please. Go get your own women! She belongs to me."

"Matt! That was so mean!"

"What! It's true! They're always trying to steal you from me."

I laughed so hard.

"Holy shit, Matt, you can't be serious!"

"Especially you," he chided Noah. "You're always trying to get in her pants."

"Alright, Matthew. That's it! Come with me; now!"

"It's Matt," he corrected me as I pulled him away from the group.

"What is going on with you? Where did that come from? Noah? Really, Matt!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, walking sluggishly over to me. I snaked my arms around his waist, shaking my head at the Lord of the Rings Shirt he was wearing.

"I just washed that shirt and hung it up last night," I scolded him.

Turning his hat backwards, he lowered his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm snapping again, aren't I?"

I smiled, placing my hands on the sides of his face.

"Yes, baby, you are," slowly sliding my hands up under his shirt. I played with the front of the waistband of his joggers, feeling his tummy sink in from being so ticklish. He chuckled, jerking his body away from me, but I gathered his shirt in my hands and pulled him back into me. That's when his lips found mine, colliding ever so gently. They were wet and warm, and tasted like the recent Celsius he'd just had.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"For which part?"

He scowled at me, confused.

"For being grumpy or the shirt?"

Matt laughed, giving me a quick kiss.

"Both."

"You owe those guys over there more of an apology. You've been horrible to them today. Are you listening to me?"

"Yup, I am," he assured me. But the way he scooped me up into his arms, leaning over me and attaching his lips to my neck, I knew he wasn't.

"Matthew, stop!" I squealed, trying to get out of his clutches. "Let me go!"

"It's Matt, and no," he groaned, letting his head fall to my chest as I continued to wiggle out of his embrace. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."

The more I wiggled, the more he tightened his grip and my leg got caught up in his, tripping me, and causing me to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hard impact, only to meet a soft body beneath me and a slight bump to the floor. I looked down and saw Matt beneath me.

"Shit, baby!"

"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm good." He stared up at me, smiling.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Positive," he assures me, reaching up and pulling me into his lips. He kissed me slow, taking his time to let me feel every move he made.

"Mmm, that... I like that."

He grinned. "I like, you. A lot."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I joked, leaning in and kissing him again, feeling him smile against my lips.

Matt sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. I rested my arms on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.

"You're really pretty, you know that?"

"Oh, so you can give compliments. Shocking!"

"Shut-up! God," he shook his head laughing. "Your sarcasm's going to kill me one day. And what the hell, I'm trying to be nice here!"

Matt tickled my sides, making me laugh hysterically.

"I love you," he said, kissing my forehead.

Wrapping myself up in his arms, I snuggle into Matt, burying my face in his chest. His heart was beating fast, telling me he was happy; that I made him happy.

"I love you, too, Matthew," I replied, grinning.

"It's Matt."

[turcott3]

faith

jamie drysdale x fem!reader

warnings?: cursing, kissing, smut, oral f receiving.

masterlist

-

you sighed as you slammed your computer shut, finally hitting send on your resume. the thought of the email reaching them filled you with dread.

what if they didn’t want to interview you? what if this was just another company to ghost you?

it stressed you out.

eventually, you found your way out of your bedroom, out into the living room where your boyfriend sat sprawled out on the couch.

“i did it.” you said quietly.

“you sent it?” he asks perking up.

“yeah.” you sigh, sitting down next to him, tucking yourself under his arm.

“that’s one step, see it wasn’t so hard?” he says squeezing your shoulder.

“we’ll see about that.”

“y/n, your resume looks great, i couldn’t possibly see why they wouldnt at least want you to come in to interview.” he says, a light thumb running over the fabric that covered your shoulder.

“well now i just have to wait.” you say opening up your email, pulling down refreshing it.

“okay now this is what we aren’t gonna do. i’m not gonna let you sit and drain yourself waiting for a response.” he says taking your phone and tucking it in his pocket.

“hey, give that back.” you say reaching across his lap, his hand grabbing yourself under wrist to stop you.

“i will give it back in the morning, just let me take care of you until then okay? they probably are just busy and can’t check emails. relax, my love.” he says pressing a kiss on your cheek before standing up, disappearing into your shared room, probably to hide the phone.

“i’m nervous about it jam.”

“i know you are, come here.” he says quietly as he lays down, signaling for you to curl up on his chest, one of the few places you felt like you could breathe.

“it’s all i can think about right now.”

“i know, i know.” he says, running his hands up and down your back.

you laid on his chest until you crashed late in the evening, eventually waking up to the sun peaking through the bedroom curtains, your phone laying perfectly on your nightstand just like he’d promised.

you hear your boyfriend groan next to you as you lean up on your elbow, turning to face him.

“morning baby.” he mumbles sweetly, his eyes still closed.

“good morning love bug.” you giggle, pressing a short kiss to his lips before rolling back over and getting out of bed, your phone instantly in your hand as you walked toward the bathroom.

“oh my gosh.” you gasp.

“what?” jamie calls out.

“i have an interview, like this afternoon.”

“congratulations, see i told you, everything will be fine.” he says, appearing in the door frame.

“i don’t think i tell you enough how hot you are when you wake up.” you say, your speech muffled as you brushed your teeth.

“oh whatever.” he giggles, kissing you on the head and grabbing his toothbrush.

“what do you think i should wear?” you ask, wiping your mouth.

“black pants, solid color shirt. nothing too fancy, but still nice.”

“okay.” you say, thinking to your closet.

-

you paced around your apartment as you waited to leave, your makeup nicely done and your hair slick and clean.

“baby please, calm down. you don’t leave for another 20 minutes.” jamie says walking into the living room.

“jamie what if i don’t get it?”

“well you won’t find out today.”

“fuck that makes it worse.” you say biting your nails.

“hey hey stop, will you listen to me for a second?” he asks, gripping onto your biceps.

“stop what?”

“this, all of this. this job interview does not define you. of course i have all the faith in the world that you are fully capable of getting this job, but it’s breaking my heart seeing you so torn up about it. i will love you all the same, job or not. no matter what.” he says, his thumbs grazing back and forth soothingly.

“i’m just nervous, that’s all it is jamie.”

“yes of course you are, and i get that, but i need you to be all here. i need you to just take a breath for me okay? everything is going to be fine, i will be here waiting for you when you come back.”

“okay, i’m gonna leave now so im a little early.” you say, hugging onto the boy.

“drive safe okay? i love you.”

“i will, i love you.” you call out, shutting the door behind you.

-

you arrived back home with a smile, opening the door finding jamie in his spot on the couch.

“so?” he asks, getting up to greet you at the door, wrapping you in his warm arms.

“the interview went really good.”

“i knew you would do great. i’m so proud of you pretty girl.” he mumbles into your hair, pecking you in the head a few times.

“they said i’d hear back by the end of the week.”

“so basically i’m taking your phone from you for two days, at least.” he says pulling away lightly and locking eyes with you.

“if you must.” you giggle as he presses a kiss to your lips, pulling your phone out of your back pocket.

“i’m hiding that laptop too.”

“jamie i have school work.” you giggle as he shuffles away quickly.

“you can use my laptop.” he calls out and you roll your eyes with a stuck smile.

hours had passed by and you were left alone in bed while jamie showered. you reached into his nightstand drawer pulling out your phone, opening the email app and refreshing it every few seconds before you heard the door open and a freshly showered jamie re-enters the room.

“y/n, the phone.” he says sternly.

“i’m sorry.” you sigh.

“give me that he says crawling into bed, looking over you as he took the phone from your hand.

“i can’t help it.” you reply.

“i know you can’t, but i can distract you.” he smirks, locking his lips onto yours. your hands found their way to his cheeks as he deepened the kiss, your tongues doing a tango of passion as you grew deeper and deeper in desire.

he removes a hand from your waist, slipping it into your satin shorts, running his fingers through your soaked core.

“jamie.” you whine, gripping onto his arm.

“mmm ready for me already?” he mumbles on your lips. you pull away locking eyes with him, nodding vigorously, any thought of an email instantly leaving your brain at the simple idea of your hot, hockey player boyfriend tongue deep between your legs.

he crawls to the end of the bed, his feet planted on the ground as he leaned over the bed, tugging your shorts down, leaving you exposed. he tossed them to the side, grabbing your ankles and pulling you slightly toward him. he crawled closer between your legs, kissing up your inner thigh, his hands finding their way to grip the outside of your legs. sooner than later, his lips make sweet contact with your pussy, sucking and twirling your clit with his tongue, your back arching at the sensation.

one thing about jamie, he knows how to eat, whether anyone wants to believe that or not.

“fuck.” you moan out, gripping in his dark locks as you locked eyes with him, your moans growing louder as you realize his eyes were ready to meet yours.

“taste so good baby.” he says pulling away slightly, the vibrations of his words making you groan.

“you’re so fucking good at that.” you gasp out as he continues, sliding two fingers into you, being pushed closer and closer to the edge. the build up was unbearable as he continued his actions, his fingers curling inside you causing you to crumble under his touch, an orgasm washing over you as you soaked his face in your wetness.

“oh my fucking god.” you gasp out as he pulls away, crawling over you, attaching your lips shamelessly to his.

“feeling better?” he giggles, pulling away.

“so much fucking better.” you reply in your hazy state.

“now no more worrying about a damn email y/n, everything will be fine. i’m here for you, i love you so much. don’t ever forget that okay?” he says, brushing your hair out of your face as you fixed your shorts after he’d handed them back to you.

“okay, i love you too jamie. promise i’ll be better.” you smile.

he made you realize how much he actually cared. he cared about your happiness more than his own, wanting to eliminate any possibility of stress if he could.

he loved you more than anything, job or not, and you just couldn’t believe you’d gotten so lucky to love him back.

[vonlipvig]

girl what does the volume have to do with anything what the fuck

[tomatoart]

911 found the father in his car listening to the radio

[naivety]

not to be an ass but if you're giving so much to fundraisers spread around on tumblr dot com that you're out of money that is a you problem. most are asking for single digit donations or a share for other people to decide of they want to do the same. if they are a scam, make sure you lose money you can stand to lose, and if not, 100 people who can afford to donate $5 each will add up real quick for someone who needs it and will absolutely not be a waste to anybody anywhere. if you have time and energy to research multiple fundraisers yourself, awesome, and if you don't, $1 or $5 or $10 is not going to kill you, unless it is, in which case, you can simply not donate! nobody has a gun to your head. ultimately it is your decision and your judgement call if that's something you can afford to spend, scam or otherwise, vetted yourself or otherwise, as a grown ass adult with functioning free will. it is not that complicated, next question.

[shamera]

okay, FINE, I will catch up on the Fontaine Archon Quest in Genshin.

(so there are, like, a dozen gmvs for Genshin to the song Gods and they are all FIRE??? Literally the perfect song for the game.)

[pallases]

ourgejjg

[cle-levanter]

I-

I think I’m going to Music Bank in Antwerp, Belgium next April? 😭

[thedeadthree]

OCS AS ART

tagged by the darlings @chuckhansen, @adelaidedrubman, @leviiackrman, @aartyom, and @dihardys to take this uquiz for the loves! ty so much dears!

(x)

TAGGING: @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @leviiackrman, @queennymeria, @chuckhansen, @blackreaches, @florbelles, @jackiesarch, @swordcoasts, @noonfaerie, @rosebarsoap, @themysteriouslou, @yennas, @stormveils, @confidentandgood, @arklay, @shellibisshe, @jacobseed, @multiverse-of-themind, @loriane-elmuerto, @roofgeese and you!

MUSIC

you are a breath of fresh air. you are soft and free. you disappear as quickly as you appear, and everyone wishes you had stayed around longer than you did. your voice is what makes people fall in love. everything you say is in harmonies and codes, and only the most experienced listeners can fully understand you. your presence is always enjoyed but you aren’t always given the praise you deserve; people will let you stay in the background. all you want is for someone to really listen to you.

PAINTINGS

everything you do is a work of art. you are beautiful without even trying, simply lounging around looks like you’re posing and waiting for someone to sketch you. you come off as light and easy but you are often misunderstood. people don’t tend to see you for who you really are, and focus too much on how effortlessly you appear to navigate the world. there's some kind of darkness behind your eyes that only some can see under all the layers of paint.

FILMS

you are wild and there’s no way for your essence to be captured in a frozen format. you are a character and the only way to describe you is to capture you in motion. you are electric. people are naturally drawn to you because you exude confidence. everything you do, you seem to know what your next step is. you are the muse to many, even if you don't know it, but deep down you do. people tend to fall in love with the idea of which i'm sure can be exhausting.

NOVELS

you fall in love easily and hard, and you are the image that pops into someone’s brain when they think of a love interest. you are a romantic and find yourself falling in love a hundred times a day because your imagination is wild and certainly knows how to get the best of you. you are soft and delicate and need to be handled with care, because a heartbreak would break you into a million pieces. you don’t want much else except to be loved and to love. you want to live out your wildest dreams, and the person that loves you can't help but let their imagination run wild with you.

POETRY

you choose your words carefully and your words will be heard. you’re smart as hell. you know it and so does everyone else and you carry yourself with a sort of confidence. you’re a bit of an artist yourself, even if unintentional. you can find beauty in mundanity but you also know when to be a realist. people fall in love with you because you are a confident mystery and they're dying to find out more. you fear that this attraction that people have to you is based purely in curiosity and nothing else.

[celepeace]

Last call for homebrewing your 3DS!! I used this guide, which adapts to what your current software version is + your region (the method differs based on these things). It's very easy, all you need is 30 minutes to an hour of free time, a basic understanding of how file explorers work, an internet connection, and an SD card reader if your computer doesn't have an SD slot.

After today, it may become harder to homebrew your 3DS. It will probably not be impossible to do so after the eshop closes, but methods will likely change and there is no guarantee there will be another way available anytime soon.

[earlgreytea68]

Okay. It's time for an AI rant.

My nephew is 13 years old. Whenever he writes a paper for school, I check it over and fix all of his mistakes for him. He said to me, "Maybe I'll proofread your paper for you in exchange," meaning one of the scholarly articles I write for work. I said, "Cool," and gave him the file. And he said, "Well, this is full of errors! See, you always say you have a lot to correct on my stuff, and look at all the stuff you got wrong!" And I said, surprised, "What? Where?" Because I'm sure there are typos in the draft I sent him, but not, like, that many.

And then he pointed to the screen and said, "Look at all the blue and red lines you have."

And I said, "Yeah, but those are wrong. Like, those are blue and red lines I'm ignoring because the computer is wrong." And then I paused and added, "You know you can't proofread a paper by just looking at the red and blue lines, right?" And he gave me the blankest look, because that clearly is EXACTLY what he thinks. And it became even clearer suddenly why, whenever I correct something on his paper, his immediate reaction is, "It didn't have a blue or red line."

There's a very good reason for that: THAT'S BECAUSE THE COMPUTER ISN'T SMART ENOUGH TO KNOW THAT IT WAS WRONG.

I am so tired of being sold the idea that computers are better than humans and so we should just outsource everything to them, which is clearly the lesson my nephew is absorbing in U.S. middle school. COMPUTERS ARE NOT BETTER THAN HUMANS. Like, maybe they are better at humans at crawling through rubble to find people trapped inside. They are also better at preserving things in a searchable format. Things like that. Very limited circumstances.

I don't want to sound alarmist but everything I hear about people using generative AI freaks me out. It's not just that I'm freaked out by people being like, "I use it to write novels!" (Although I don't see how they do, I have tried to have it write fiction for me and the output was truly terrible.) But I recognize my bias around creative writing and so no one needs to credit my views on artificial writing. But! Other things are alarming, too! "I use it to brainstorm x, y, or z." But...why? Why not just...use your own brain...to...brain...storm? The computer doesn't even have a brain to brainstorm with! And you might be like, "But it comes up with things that my brain would never think of!" So would other people! You could also brainstorm with other people! Or even through Google to see what other people have thought before you (not AI). Please don't belittle the wonder of thinking.

I just feel like the marketing around generative AI boils down to "Wouldn't it be easier not to use your own brain to think about things?" Everyone. No. It would not be. Please just trust me on this. I'm not just an old person who is out of touch with technology or something. I promise. USE YOUR BRAINS. IT WILL BE OKAY.

[chaotictomtom]

comes out all beaten up and coughing up blood : hi guys im just done with my 2 hours paperwork moment (living in france experience)

[gallusrostromegalus]

Move To A Darker Place

This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.

---

Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.

My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God.  He taught himself how to use his smartphone.  Internationally.

So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.

It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity. 

“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”

The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.

a.k.a: A Selfie.

“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.

Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.

“Oh. You should have said so.”  Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.

Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.

“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid.  My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.

Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution:  He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.

But I digress.

After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.

And here is where the real trouble began.

See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose.  While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.

He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada.  He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.

He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.

She looked back at him, and farted.

“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her. 

She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.

So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.

The System thought about it for a few moments.

Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.

“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”

He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.

“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.

Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System.  It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”.  He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.

As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.

“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.

“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.

Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room.  It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds.  Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled. 

“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.

Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.

“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan.  With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.

This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted.  The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.

Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.

“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.

He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone. 

“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.  

Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape.  She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.

“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.

To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!

“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”

---

I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.

It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times.  Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System.  It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.

“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy!  My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year.  I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”

He handed me the image.

My father was, technically, in the image.  A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair.  Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.

“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”

“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing). 

“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”

Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked  car?” he asked suspiciously.

“The very same.” Dad grinned.

“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”

---

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