#prompt engineering for artists

[rich4a1]

Let AI Handle Your One Sheet: How Indie Artists Can Automate the Boring Stuff Without Losing the Magic

Making a Scene Presents – Let AI Handle Your One Sheet: How Indie Artists Can Automate the Boring Stuff Without Losing the Magic For independent artists, creativity is the fuel—but the marketing grind? Not so much. Between writing bios, formatting one sheets, sending press emails, and organizing release data, it’s easy to get overwhelmed and burned out. And that’s before you’ve even gotten to…

[noble-atomics-railway]

8 - Impact - Tornadoyoungiron's traintober list

More of the BBC level drama, this time with writing. Context is under the cut.

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The sound of a blaring alarm woke Gordon up from his sleep. He stretched with a sigh, pressing the alarm to silence it.

He felt better rested than he had in weeks, ever since Henry had been promoted to engine driver and switched to nights. He usually woke him when he returned, running showers and banging doors.

It would be nice if Henry would be just a bit quieter when he came back. It would be nice if he went back to days so he didn't wake him up every night.

When he stretched his fingers further, he didn't meet his partner. Was it possible that he was still angry after their spat last night?

He ran his fingers further, the other side of the bed was cold. Henry hadn't slept there at all last night. A small pit of anxiety curled in his stomach. What if he had yelled at him too harshly the night before? He'd just had enough of being woken up every night. He was not the nicest creature when he hadn't had enough sleep and Henry, as his culprit, had faced his wrath.

Quickly, he pulled his uniform on and walked down to, as far as anyone else was concerned, Henry’s room on the other side of the hallway. He paused to knock on Thomas’ door on the way past, ensuring that he was awake. If there was one thing that Thomas had inherited from him, it was a hatred of waking up in the morning, and Gordon would never put it past him to sleep through several alarms, making him late for work.

Slowly, he opened the door, not wanting to disturb Henry if he was asleep. He could make up with him later. He just wanted to know that he was in the house.

He wasn't. He hadn't been in here either. It wasn't that this room was unused. Henry would store his personal effects in here, like his uniform and spare clothing, but it obviously hadn't been used last night. The bed was still made and Henry was nowhere to be seen.

Gordon's anxiety spiked. Perhaps he was still at work? Stuck at a different station overnight after a breakdown? As much as Henry loved the engine that he'd found under a bricked up tunnel, Gordon was wary of it. Sure, his engine was a prototype, too, but at least his engine was reliable. The only accidents he'd had in his engine were minor and down to his own stupidity. Henry's engine required Welsh coal to even have a chance of running, and even then, it was known to have issues. It was obvious it had been bricked up for a reason and it was past Gordon why the Fat Controller had allowed it to run on the rails again.

He wandered downstairs, waiting for Thomas to be ready so that they could leave together.

He was sure that he was fine. Anything could have happened.

Anything could have happened. Engine driving wasn't the safest profession.

He was just going to torture himself if he kept up that cycle in his head. He'd just have to ask Edward if he had any idea when he arrived at the yards. After all, Edward usually arrived at work about when Henry left. His engine being what one could refer to as an antique meant that it took longer to troubleshoot in the morning, or so Edward claimed. He was just paranoid, Gordon guessed, but usually rightly so.

After what seemed like an eternity of fretting, Thomas was ready and they departed from their house and headed down towards Knapford Shed to clock in. Snow lined the ground, making the short walk time consuming and slippery. Gordon knew that they'd have to take extra care to not slide past the stations in weather like this.

Thomas laughed as they walked together. “It's unusual to not hear you muttering about Henry waking you up. You finally learned how to sleep through him?”

“No,” Gordon snapped.

“You can't still be continuing that argument from yesterday, can you? I don't expect better from you, but Henry isn't one to hold a grudge.”

“How do you know about that?” Gordon pulled at his hair.

“You've never been quiet when you've lost your temper, Dad. I think Annie and Clarabel heard you as well.”

“You'd be annoyed if you got woken up every night, Thomas.” Gordon sighed. “It was at least slightly justified.”

“I wouldn't get myself in that situation in the first place,” said Thomas proudly. “Because I wouldn't-”

The resounding glare from Gordon shut him up quickly.

“Anyway,” Thomas continued, “You must have gone off at him if he's still mad.”

“Considering he never came back to the house last night, Thomas, I frankly have no idea where he is or if he's still mad at me. At this point, I'm hoping he is still just annoyed.”

“Well, what else would he be? He's probably stuck at a station master’s house because his train has broken down. I bet he's not even mad anymore.”

“It's not the safest profession, Thomas.” He shook his head, “I hate being on such opposite shifts. It's no great joy being woken up, and as he pointed out, we're waking him up coming and going from the house during the day. It's a nightmare. I hate being tired all the time. I do wish that he'd never got promoted in the first place.”

Thomas playfully knocked his shoulder. “Just because you hate not seeing him every hour of the day, you mean.”

Gordon smiled softly. “Perhaps, Thomas. Or perhaps I'm just too old to appreciate change.”

“You're hardly that old yet.”

“Old enough. I’ve seen two great wars and may live to see another.”

“It's hardly that melodramatic, Dad.”

“If you say so, son.”

Quickly, Thomas hugged him before running off towards Percy in Tidmouth Sheds. “It'll be fine, Dad. Stop worrying.”

Gordon shook his head at his son's antics and slowly walked over towards his own engine, ready to start pre-use checks. Wickham was already at work stoking the engine's fire for the first run of the morning. Henry's engine was not in the sheds yet, not helping the anxiety in his chest.

“Good morning, Edward,” he called as he began to check the wheels of his engine. “Old Iron alright this morning?”

“Alright as he ever is.” Edward smiled, patting the side of his engine. “Be careful this morning,” he warned. “The snow hasn't cleared fully yet. It’s been forcing signals down and causing delays all night.”

Gordon sighed. “At least that explains where Henry is. I'm guessing he's caught at a station somewhere, waiting for a signal that's never going to change.”

“Get a full night sleep for a change?”

“Why does everyone know about that?” Gordon shook his head. “I feel insulted.”

“Easy. Me and Henry talk.” Edward turned away from the engine. “He's all ready to go now, Sidney,” Edward called up to his fireman.

“I just want to get his fire burning a bit stronger before we depart. I'm in no rush to go out without a fire to keep me warm,” Sidney replied. “Come back in five.”

Edward followed Gordon arround to the other half of his engine, watching as he inspected it. “Henry wants to get moved to days, you know.”

“I've heard,” Gordon snapped, irritated. “He wants my Express.”

“No, he doesn't,” Edward replied.

“That's what he told me.”

“Honestly, Gordon, what does it matter?” Edward shook his head. “All it means is that you don't get woken up by your lodger and he doesn't get woken up by you.”

“That doesn't even matter, Edward. It's the principle of it. After all, after everything, how dare he?”

“Tell him how you feel, then.”

“He should just know,” Gordon stressed. “He's been so full of himself since he's been promoted.”

“And you never are?”

“No, I-“ Gordon paused for a second, feeling himself go light-headed. He placed a hand on the running board to catch himself before continuing more calmly. “I love that job, Edward. I don't want to lose it.”

“You won't, I'm sure,” Edward reassured. “Are you alright, Gordon? You look paler than usual.”

“Honestly, I'm just overthinking Henry not being back. I've just got this horrible-”

“Gentlemen,” Sir Hatt said, interrupting the conversation.“ I regret to inform you that there was an accident on the line last night.” Gordon's body tensed. He knew what he was going to say before the words came out of his mouth. “A faulty signal caused it, weighed down by snow. The engine is a write-off and needs a total rebuild. Henry Stanier is in hospital in critical condition.”

Suddenly, Gordon found himself on the hard gravel of the floor, Thomas on one side of him, scared and gripping tightly onto his arm, and Edward on the other, looking at him in deep concern. “What just happened?” he muttered.

“I don't know,” Edward said, letting go of him cautiously. “You just passed out.”

He nodded. That made sense. He felt like someone had tipped a cold bottle of water on him.

“I think you've just traumatised your son.” Edward laughed with relief. “I think he thought you were gonna die.”

“I'm alright.” He moved to stand up, ignoring the pounding in his chest and perhaps relying a bit too much on Thomas to do it. “I'm alright,” he reassured Thomas, gripping his arm.

“Trust me, you don't look it”, Edward said. He leaned to mutter “You're too light to catch.” Edward at least understood not to embarrass him more than he already had been. Passing out over a bit of bad news. The indignity.

The bad news.

Henry.

“Sir. You said Henry was in hospital?” He turned to Sir Toppham Hatt, who looked taken aback by the question.

“Yes. And I thought you were going to be, then. Thomas, take your father home.”

“Yes, sir.” Thomas nodded eagerly, pulling at Gordon's shoulder.

“I can still work. I'm fine now. It was just a bit of a shock.”

“No, Gordon.”

“I can be useful. I know that run like the back of my hand. I was just shocked.”

“I said no, Gordon. Clearly, I misestimated how close you and your lodger had got. You acted like the wives do when I turn up at their doorstep with bad news.” Gordon looked at the floor, not wanting to reveal any emotion on his face. Sir Toppham Hatt turned to Edward. “Edward, you take the Number 4 with Wickham. Sidney, take the Number 2 with Bob. We can do without a shunter for a day.”

All the men nodded as Gordon stood there, embarrassed.

“If you'd like to make yourself useful, the hospital will probably appreciate you taking a spare change of clothes for your lodger to the hospital.” Gordon nodded again, turning to leave with Thomas, his embarrassment and worry slowly turning into a slow and fiery anger.

He wasn't even angry at being sent home. He was angry at the world. Go to hospital, he scoffed. If he did, he was no next of kin, no relation, despite the fact that they shared a bed every night. If he disclosed that information, at the very least, they'd find themselves unemployed and at the worst, arrested.

He acted like a wife. He was, of sorts. It's just that nobody could ever know. He thundered back home, cursing his bad luck of falling for another man.

[ceciasa]

Traintober Art: Day 3 - Twins

Duck remeets his Driver's twin children, Montague and Monique Palmer. The only mistake his driver ever made was giving Duck the chance to influence them on the "Great Western Way."

AKA: Duck officially becomes a Dad Uncle

[asktoadd]

The places inbetween sleep and waking confuse me, i once woke up four times before actually waking up..

one of the best analogues of what it feels like to walk through a dream is like, an AI generated video. All the parts are there, all the keyframes are there, but the transitions between them are WRONG, distorted and incoherent.

Then again, dreams don't steal from artists :P

[21st-century-minutiae]

MS Paint is a late twentieth century, early twenty-first century free image creation and modification application that is included by default with the Microsoft Operating System. It provides extremely limited options for image modification compared to more sophisticated options.

For example, the ability to work with layers (independent, transparent images stacked on top of one another) was not added until 2023. Almost every other image editing software supported this feature which is of great value to digital artists. The above artwork thus preceded this particular development, meaning it would have been a lot more difficult to create the image.

The context of the media (MS Paint) makes the image itself a greater demonstration of skill. In the early twenty-first century, people generally appreciate obvious skill as a component in aesthetics independent from the actual product. It serves as a shorthand for time spent, both in learning the skill itself and in creating the result. Artwork that is not visibly difficult to make is held with some scorn by those who cannot tell its labor.

ms paint study from 2021

[complainblogforthevoid]

I've finally figured out an argument that convinces coding tech-bros that AI art is bad.

Got into a discussion today (actually a discussion, we were both very reasonable and calm even through I felt like committing violence) with a tech-bro-coded lady who claimed that people use AI in coding all the time so she didn't see why it mattered if people used AI in art.

Obviously I repressed the surge of violence because that would accomplish nothing. Plus, this lady is very articulate, the type who makes claims and you sit there thinking no that's wrong it must be but she said it so well you're kind of just waffling going but, no, wait-- so I knew I had to get this right if I was gonna come out of this unscathed.

The usual arguments about it being about the soul of it and creation fell flat, in fact she was adamant that anyone who believed that was in fact looking down at coding as an art form as she insisted it is. Which, sure, you can totally express yourself through coding. There's a lot more nuance as to the differences but clearly I was not going to win this one.

The other people I was with (literally 8 people anti-ai against her, but you can't change the mind of someone who doesn't want to listen and she just kept accusing us of devaluing coding as an art) took over for I kid you not 15 minutes while I tried desperately to come up with a clear and articulate way to explain the difference to her. They tried so many reasonable arguments, coding being for a function ("what, art doesn't serve a function?") coding being many discrete building blocks that you put together differently, and the AI simply provides the blocks and you put it together yourself ("isn't that what prompt building is") that it's bad for the environment ("but not if it's used for capitalism, hm?" "Yeah literally that's how capitalism works it doesn't care about the environment" she didn't like that response)

But I finally got it.

And the answer is: It's not about what you do, it's about what you claim to be.

Imagine that someone asks an AI to write a code and, by some miracle, it works perfectly without them having to tweak it---which is great because they couldn't tell you what a single solitary thing in that code means.

Now imagine this person, with their code that they don't know how it works, goes and applies to be a coder somewhere, presenting this AI code as proof that they're qualified.

Should they be hired?

She was horrified, of course. Of course they shouldn't be. They're not qualified. They can't actually code, and even if by some miracle they did have an AI successfully write a flawless code for every issue they came across that wouldn't be their code, you could hire any shmuck on the street to do that, no reason to pay someone like they're creating something.

When actual engineers use AI what they do is get some kind of base, which they then go though and check for problems and then if they find any they fix them, and add on to the base code with their own knowledge instead of just trying different prompt after prompt until they randomly come across one that works.

People who generate code like this don't usually call themselves engineers. They're people who needed a bit of code and didn't have the knowledge to generate it, and so used a resource.

And there you go. There are people who have none of the skills of artists, they don't practice, they don't create for themselves. When they feed the prompt to the AI they then don't just use the resulting image as a reference point for their own personal masterpiece, and if they don't like it they don't have the skills to change it---they simply try another prompt, and do that until they get something they like.

These people are calling themselves artists.

Not only that, these people are bringing the AI generated thing to interviews, and they are getting hired, leaving people who slave over their craft out of the job.

And that is the difference, for the tech bros who think AI art isn't a big deal.

[niggadiffusion]

Generating Visual Poetry: Merging AI Art and Verse

Poetry has always been a multi-layered art form, crafting vivid pictures in the mind through carefully chosen words and rhythms. Over time, poets and visual artists have teamed up, blending text and images to enhance each other’s impact—think William Blake’s illuminated works or modern collaborations between poets and photographers. Today, AI image generators are pushing boundaries, reawakening…

[evartology]

Prompt Engineering

Your 8-Step Transformation from Curious Novice to AI Visionary

How to increase productivity 10x with LLMs

Guiding, Intuitive FREE Learning Tool

[dcemberchallenge]

🌟 DCember Day 28 🌟

General Prompt: New Themed Prompt: Engineer

[uxgaip]

In case you have missed it! Must watch and for budding UX, Generative AI and Prompt Engineering Enthusiast, the below link is for you though is WIP but your feedback is important

[cool-photography-art]

Mastering Negative Space: A Beginner's Guide

#NegativeSpace #Photography #Art #Guide

[studioeisa]

growing sideways 📧 jeonghan x reader.

yours, whether you like it or not,

📧 pairing. co-workers!jeonghan x reader. 📧 social media au & epistolary (told through emails). 📧 genres. alternate universe: non-idol, alternate universe: co-workers. romance, humor. 📧 includes. mention of alcohol; suggestive language; profanity. workplace rivals, corporate jargon, engineering terms i definitely butchered, use of y/n l/n for e-mail purposes. title from noah kahan’s growing sideways; waaay too many kahan references, really. style and format insp. by cinnamorussell’s tell all your friends i’m crazy (i’ll drive you mad). 📧 notes. this is a bit long, but we ball. in one of my first conversations with @diamonddaze01, we dreamed up workplace rival yoon jeonghan. i offer it, now, as part of a month-long celebration for the person i’ve dedicated a good quarter of my work to. tara, i’ll never meet someone who won’t know about you. nanu ninnannu pritisuttene! 🔭

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vernonline woah indie ahhh caption user1 Looking good, Jeonghan! Let’s catch up soon x user2 who tha baddie in the back in the second slideee ↳ sound_of_coups 👋 ↳ user3 no the one on the right sry :/ ♥︎ Liked by creator user4 congrats to whoever’s bouncing on it ! junhui_moon Aura 1000000% ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n what language are you speaking

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from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Test Platform Validation Report (EU Submission)

Yoon,

I reviewed the validation draft you uploaded this morning. Fascinating interpretation of clause 4.3.2. Bold of you to skip the stability data appendix entirely. I can only assume it was an artistic choice.

Also, the raw tensile data from the 0528 batch isn’t included. If it was meant to be in the shared drive, it wasn’t in any of the usual folders (QA_Share > FR_Validation > tensile_data > missing_files > probably_Jeonghan’s).

I’ve attached my edits. I added actual numbers.

Regards, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Test Platform Validation Report (EU Submission)

Thank you for the prompt review. I assumed your obsession with clause 4.3.2 would outweigh your impulse to nitpick, but alas—some things never change.

The stability data was excluded intentionally while awaiting results from the accelerated aging test. If you opened the protocol (second folder under QA_Share > FR_Validation > tensile_data > definitely_not_missing), you’d see that.

As for your edits, I appreciate the effort. It’s cute when you pretend Excel likes you back.

Best, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

Yoon,

Not that I expect you to read full briefs, but just in case you skimmed this one: yes, the transfer protocols need to be locked before next Friday if we want the France site to hit qualification by Q3.

Your last edits to the QAP template were inspired. I didn’t know it was possible to confuse ISO 13485 with a haiku.

I’ve restructured the equipment IQ section. You’re welcome. You’ll need to coordinate with Wonwoo at the Lyon site for vendor access, assuming you remember to email him this time.

I’ll see you in Lyon.

Disrespectfully, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

Of course I read the brief. Just because I don’t annotate every margin with red ink and superiority complexes doesn’t mean I don’t understand the deadline.

I’ll coordinate with Wonwoo, assuming you don’t scare him off again with your charmingly blunt emails. (I still have the screenshot of him calling you “intimidatingly competent.”)

By the way, your IQ revisions look fine. Shockingly legible this time. Congratulations.

I’ll see you in Lyon. Try not to sabotage the coffee machine this trip.

Until customs detains us, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

If Wonwoo was intimidated, it’s because I sent him instructions written in complete sentences. A rare treat, I know.

You still haven’t confirmed the calibration matrix. We’ll need the traceable certs before equipment ships, or do you plan to charm EU regulators into letting us slide on documentation? Actually, don’t answer that. I’ve seen you talk to vendors.

Also: bring the correct adapter this time. I’m not sharing an outlet with you again.

Best of luck (to me), L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: EU Submission - FR Manufacturing Coordination

The calibration matrix is in the tracker: third tab, fourth column, next to the thing labeled “READ ME, PLEASE” Try it. It’s fun.

And yes, I plan to charm the regulators. You, on the other hand, can stun them into compliance with your piercing PowerPoint transitions.

As for the outlet. I’m bringing an adapter. And a surge protector. For reasons.

Looking forward to our time in France. Nothing says “teamwork” like four days of jetlag and passive aggression.

Yours in regulatory purgatory, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

YJH 👿 (Work) [8:13 AM]: why do you type so aggressively. the guy next to me thinks you’re yelling at me You [8:14 AM]: he’s not wrong. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:15 AM]: did you really need three highlighters in your carry-on? You [8:15 AM]: yes. the pink one is for your mistakes. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:16 AM]: romantic You [8:16 AM]: if you die on this trip it’s going to be from a highlighter to the throat. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:17 AM]: worth it You [8:17 AM]: you are the worst seatmate in existence. YJH 👿 (Work) [8:18 AM]: you snore when you pretend not to be sleeping and your pointy elbow crosses the line You [8:18 AM]: so we’re calling it a truce? YJH 👿 (Work) [8:19 AM]: we’re calling it foreplay

☾ You have silenced Notifications.

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user1 oui oui 😜 user2 Who are you wearing??? ho5hi_kwon surprised a murder hasn’t occurred lolololol ఇ ◝‿◜ ఇ ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n not counting it out just yet user3 WHAT’S 4+4? ATEEE user4 Is he a model? ↳ sound_of_coups please don’t say that his head is going to get so big

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View all comments user1 bwoah . . . feat.dino STUNT ON THEM HOESSSS ♥︎ Liked by creator user2 gender gender gender 😮‍💨 user3 Really need to know where the second pic is !! Plsss DM yourusername i see how it is ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n credits. xo

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

Yoon,

Per our debrief notes (the ones not written on a cocktail napkin), I’ve uploaded the final QAP revisions and vendor qualification summaries to the shared drive. You can stop emailing me pictures of our hotel room as  “documentation.” Though impressive dedication to fieldwork.

Also, your expense report still lists the mini bar from Tuesday night. Pretty bold move, considering you insisted you only drank half the bottle.

Respectueusement, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

You’re welcome for the in-room stress testing of French plumbing. I was being thorough.

Also, I did only drink half. You drank the other half and then told the front desk I was your emotional support engineer.

Re: shared drive. I see your formatting crimes continue. I fixed your spacing in the risk assessment table. Try to be better.

Yours across all timezones, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

Yoon,

I’d fix my spacing if you’d stop adjusting my bullet styles just to mess with me. And next time, maybe don’t volunteer us for the plant tour while hungover. Watching you nearly fall into a vat of solvent was not the regulatory impression we wanted.

Stop calling me yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S. You still owe me one (1) bed. I’m adding it to your performance review.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: FR Submission Debrief + Documentation

Not my fault someone booked the hotel late and got us the romantic suite. You’re lucky I didn’t call room service for rose petals.

I’ve uploaded the final sign-offs and confirmation from the French regulatory contact—who says we’re the most “thorough and theatrically matched” engineers she’s worked with. I think that’s a compliment.

Let me know if I’ve missed any appendices. Or if you want your highlighter back.

Yours, even if you deny me (hotel registration said so), Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. I liked sharing the room with you. Not because of budget errors or international confusion. Just because it was you.

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user1 GIVE US A FIT CHECK user2 something you’re not telling me ? hmmm ↳ yourusername dm dm dm user3 Need to know who yr nail tech girlie is fr everyone_woo 👀 ↳ yourusername 🤫 sunwoo pretty flowers 4 a pretty girl ♥︎ Liked by creator

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Great audit notes, as usual. I’ve attached my edits for the CAPA log. We’ll have to discuss column F, because your formulas hate me.

Also, bold of you to post a photo of flowers on a Tuesday. Does SVT approve PTO for midweek romance now?

Am I being cheated on?, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Yoon,

Corrected the formula logic in column F. Try not to break it again.

And yes, Tuesday dates are a thing now. Believe it or not, some people find me tolerable enough to see more than once.

Shocking, I know.

Regrets, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Don’t worry. I’m sure your second date will be charmed by your bullet point consistency.

Personally, I’ve never seen the appeal of dating someone like you. Too sharp. Too bossy. Too quick to judge formula errors.

Fortunately, SVT doesn’t require us to like each other outside of Gantt charts.

Yours, whether you like it or not, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Supplier Audit Timeline + Other Things

Yoon,

Believe me, the feeling is mutual. I'd sooner date a malfunctioning tensile tester.

I fixed your math in the timeline estimates. Again. Please don’t bother me for the rest of the week. I’m going to be busy preparing for date number two.

(You wish I was) Yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp 

You [11:42 PM]: he ghosted me. u jinxed it. You [11:43 PM]: i shaved my legs for nothing. hope ur happy. You [11:44 PM]: he said he liked my slides. he LIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You [11:45 PM]: sitting alone at a bar rn contemplating the meaning of life.. and if i can blow u up telepahteitcally.... YJH 👿 (Work) [11:45 PM]: *telepathically YJH 👿 (Work) [11:46 PM]: which bar. You [11:47 PM]: fucking MANSPLAINER You [11:47 PM]: don’t come near me EVEREVER

YJH 👿 (Work) requested your location.

You started sharing your location with YJH 👿 (Work).

You [11:50 PM]: fuckfcuckfuckity my fat fucking thumbs FMLLL YJH 👿 (Work) [11:53 PM]: i’m coming. don’t order tequila until i get there. or do. i want to see the disaster myself. You [11:55 PM]: jerk YJH 👿 (Work) [11:56 PM]: always. save me a seat, heartbreak girl

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user1 Caption + second slide >>>> joshu_acoustic is that yourusername in the last slide 🫨 ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n is it ? yourusername ↳ yourusername must be a lookalike ♥︎ Liked by creator ↳ dk_is_dokyeom THAT’S ME yourusername & min6yu_k !!! ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ user2 just one chance pls,, user3 Wait was that a wine date or

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

Yoon,

Your revised equipment validation timeline looks solid. I’ve flagged the dates where QRA and process requal overlap. You’ll need to talk to Ops to make sure there’s no resource conflict.

Also, thanks. For the other night.

Don’t make a thing out of it. Reluctantly yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp 

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

Wow. A “thanks.” What is this, a truce?

Noted on the QRA overlap—I’ll sync with Ops and shift our timeline by 2-3 business days. I’ve attached a revised Gantt for your very critical review.

Also: you owe me fries.

Yours with no reluctance whatsoever, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. Don’t let your guard down. I’d hate for you to start thinking I’m nice.

P.P.S. You’re beautiful when drunk. Infuriating, but beautiful.

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

Attached: my comments on your Gantt chart (see rows 14–27). Also, your font choices are unhinged. You’re lucky you’re marginally good at your job.

Fries are contingent on you not mentioning the karaoke. Sober now, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S. You’re nice when you think I’m too drunk to remember.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp subject: Re: Equipment Revalidation Schedule 

I’ll swap the font if it means less red pen in my inbox.

And don’t worry, I’d never mention your rendition of “Dancing Queen” in front of senior management. Or that you made me sing backup.

As for being nice: I was just making sure you didn’t fall asleep in a nacho basket. Again.

Drunk on you, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. I remember everything you said. Even the parts you don’t.

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user1 fly safe, babygirl user2 ermmm.. am i witnessing a soft launch ?! min9yu_k I’d know that YSL bag from anywhere 😏 user3 How can I be youuu :( user4 is that a BOYFRIEND?! junhui_moon strategic non-response to any of the comments here #respect

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

Attached: updated protocol outline and projected data submission window. Added notes re: temperature excursions flagged by the lab.

Unrelated, but I saw your latest post. Interesting how you managed to frame the lighting just right on that cafe table. Almost as if someone you work with took the photo.

Also, bold choice uploading a cropped version of that one picture of me holding five tote bags. Very “soft launch,” very subtle.

Launched like a rocket ship, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

This isn’t the time.

The humidity chamber failed mid-run and half of the accelerated aging samples are compromised. I’ll need to retest from baseline and revalidate the controls. Not sure yet if it pushes our submission, but I’m flagging it with QA.

I suggest you review section 6.2 of the protocol instead of obsessing over my Instagram.

L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

Didn’t mean to distract. I hadn’t seen the alert yet. Engineering just looped me in on the chamber issue. I’ll prioritize sourcing backup samples and contact Tech Ops to check chamber calibration across all zones.

You’ll have data. We’ll make it work.

(But if you were soft-launching me, I looked great.)

Trying too hard, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

Yoon,

Appreciated. Sorry I snapped.

I just really didn’t want this run to go sideways. I know it’s not your fault—but I’ve been fielding calls since 7:00 a.m. and I’m a little fried.

Yours and then some, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S. You looked ridiculous, but sure. Let the internet wonder.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

You can yell at me any time. Preferably not before coffee, but I’ll survive.

QA says they’ll expedite sample disposal so we can start the new batch by end of week. I sent you a revised Gantt. And a snack. Don’t fight me on it.

Yours in whatever way you’ll have me, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

P.S. Internet speculation is already intense. I’ve received two DMs inquiring if I’m truly off the market. Is this your twisted little way of staking claim?

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline 

The snack was suspiciously well-timed. You’re lucky I like sesame.

Re: QA—I’ll update the submission calendar and notify Regulatory we’re adjusting the stability window.

And tell your fans I’m flattered, but my standards are higher than “guy who argues about font weight in shared spreadsheets.”

Yours for some reason (When did I succumb to this?), L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: France Stability Testing Timeline

For the record, I wasn’t arguing. I was advocating for consistent formatting.

Also: I’m sorry. For earlier. I should’ve checked the system alerts before joking around. You always catch things first, and I forget what it’s like to be under that kind of pressure all the time.

Let me know what else you need. I mean it.

Yours for equally no reason (I bookmarked the first time you signed off with ‘yours’, btw), Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

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sound_of_coups 🎣 Hook, line, sinker user1 can this guy fight omfg user2 Even his side view is ethereal. What the hale vernonline okurrr ♥︎ Liked by jeonghaniyoo_n   ↳ yourusername ? jeonghaniyoo_n wasn’t aware i had paparazzi   ↳ pledis_boos IS THIS ALLOWEDDD IS THIS ALLOWED

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Apologies for the Timestamp 

Yoon,

I realize this is past hours. I won’t pretend it’s an emergency—it’s just the draft for the stability test realignment we discussed. I needed to get it out of my head or I wouldn’t sleep. It can wait until morning. I just didn’t want to forget.

Sorry. Again. Sleep well, or party well, or whatever it is you’re doing tonight.

Terribly sorry, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp 

Got your email—yes, timestamp noted.

I’m out. Drinking. Loud music, terrible lighting, questionable tequila. I’ll look at the draft during actual work hours. I promise.

Also, you do know that you’re allowed to exist outside work. Don’t apologize for thinking too hard. That’s half your brand.

Buzzing like a drunk bumblebee, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

Yoon,

Enjoy your night out. Try not to bully the DJ. May your drinks be overpriced and your lighting flattering.

And hey—hope you pull. You deserve someone mildly tolerable for a few hours.

Cheers, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp 

The drinks are terrible. The lighting is flattering. I’ve technically pulled, but she’s more interested in the bartender now, which is fine because—

I miss you. You, and your midnight overthinking, and your Excel color codes, and the way you always say “don’t wait up” but still check your inbox five minutes later.

I miss you. Stupidly. Even while I’m here.

Yours at my own risk, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

Yoon,

Pray tell why you're getting drunk and you're "pulling" what I can assume to be ABGs whose names you won't even know in the morning, and yet you're still in the club, emailing me? Missing my drunken emails?

Why? Are the girls of Wall Street not enough for you?

Totally not jealous, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

I can answer this so simply, it won’t even be fun.

The girls of Wall Street will never be you.

No one will ever be you.

I'm not enjoying my night as much as I should because you're not here. I'm in the club, drunk AND emailing you. That should tell you everything.

Come out with me next time. Wreck my plans. Ruin the music. Steal my coat.

I may be playing with fire, but to hell with it.

Burning myself, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp 

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

I can feel you overthinking all the way from here. You’re probably thinking that I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and regret all of this. That I will be unable to face you at work come Monday, when I am no longer drunk out of my mind and thinking you are the most brilliant, most gorgeous, most infuriating person alive. 

You will be right. Thankfully, though, these are—what do the kids call it? ‘Receipts’. You will have a paper trail. These emails will be between you, me, and that Australian guy from IT. 

He will know, and you will know, that I may have the most miniscule work crush on you. 

Jesus Christ. What am I? A high schooler? 

Let’s try that again: Love is just a chemical reaction that compels animals to breed. What I’m feeling for you isn’t love. It’s so much more than that.

Love sucks, and I need to sober up, Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

Get home safe, Jeonghan.

Yours, with questions, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

You just called me Jeonghan.

Yours, with answers (maybe), Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

from: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp to: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

That’s your name, isn’t it?

Stop e-mailing me while you’re at the club.

Fine. Yours, L/N Y/N she/her ln.yn@svt.corp

P.S.: I may have the most miniscule work crush on you, too.

from: Yoon Jeonghan yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp to: L/N Y/N ln.yn@svt.corp Subject: Re: Apologies for the Timestamp

i am  goi n    to die

Yoon Jeonghan he/him yoon.jeonghan@svt.corp

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vernonline lfggg min9yu_k 🤮 JK! Congrats junhui_moon saw this coming from a mile away sound_of_coups Gorgeousss   ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n back off, bud. dk_is_dokyeom (˶ ˘ ³˘)ˆᵕ ˆ˶) love is love everyone_woo oh god what about our project   ↳ yourusername please check your e-mail. :)   ↳ everyone_woo fml.

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xuminghao_o Not seeing yjh in suits is disconcerting ho5hi_kwon RAH RAH RAH RAHHH woozi_universefactory 👍   ↳ jeonghaniyoo_n JIHOON????????????? pledis_boos U CAN DO BETTER THAN HIM GIRL joshua_acoustic So happy for you two! feat.dino my otp fr jeonghaniyoo_n mine ♥︎ Liked by creator   ↳ yourusername yours,

[bi-writes]

whats wrong with ai?? genuinely curious <3

okay let's break it down. i'm an engineer, so i'm going to come at you from a perspective that may be different than someone else's.

i don't hate ai in every aspect. in theory, there are a lot of instances where, in fact, ai can help us do things a lot better without. here's a few examples:

ai detecting cancer

ai sorting recycling

some practical housekeeping that gemini (google ai) can do

all of the above examples are ways in which ai works with humans to do things in parallel with us. it's not overstepping--it's sorting, using pixels at a micro-level to detect abnormalities that we as humans can not, fixing a list. these are all really small, helpful ways that ai can work with us.

everything else about ai works against us. in general, ai is a huge consumer of natural resources. every prompt that you put into character.ai, chatgpt? this wastes water + energy. it's not free. a machine somewhere in the world has to swallow your prompt, call on a model to feed data into it and process more data, and then has to generate an answer for you all in a relatively short amount of time.

that is crazy expensive. someone is paying for that, and if it isn't you with your own money, it's the strain on the power grid, the water that cools the computers, the A/C that cools the data centers. and you aren't the only person using ai. chatgpt alone gets millions of users every single day, with probably thousands of prompts per second, so multiply your personal consumption by millions, and you can start to see how the picture is becoming overwhelming.

that is energy consumption alone. we haven't even talked about how problematic ai is ethically. there is currently no regulation in the united states about how ai should be developed, deployed, or used.

what does this mean for you?

it means that anything you post online is subject to data mining by an ai model (because why would they need to ask if there's no laws to stop them? wtf does it matter what it means to you to some idiot software engineer in the back room of an office making 3x your salary?). oh, that little fic you posted to wattpad that got a lot of attention? well now it's being used to teach ai how to write. oh, that sketch you made using adobe that you want to sell? adobe didn't tell you that anything you save to the cloud is now subject to being used for their ai models, so now your art is being replicated to generate ai images in photoshop, without crediting you (they have since said they don't do this...but privacy policies were never made to be human-readable, and i can't imagine they are the only company to sneakily try this). oh, your apartment just installed a new system that will use facial recognition to let their residents inside? oh, they didn't train their model with anyone but white people, so now all the black people living in that apartment building can't get into their homes. oh, you want to apply for a new job? the ai model that scans resumes learned from historical data that more men work that role than women (so the model basically thinks men are better than women), so now your resume is getting thrown out because you're a woman.

ai learns from data. and data is flawed. data is human. and as humans, we are racist, homophobic, misogynistic, transphobic, divided. so the ai models we train will learn from this. ai learns from people's creative works--their personal and artistic property. and now it's scrambling them all up to spit out generated images and written works that no one would ever want to read (because it's no longer a labor of love), and they're using that to make money. they're profiting off of people, and there's no one to stop them. they're also using generated images as marketing tools, to trick idiots on facebook, to make it so hard to be media literate that we have to question every single thing we see because now we don't know what's real and what's not.

the problem with ai is that it's doing more harm than good. and we as a society aren't doing our due diligence to understand the unintended consequences of it all. we aren't angry enough. we're too scared of stifling innovation that we're letting it regulate itself (aka letting companies decide), which has never been a good idea. we see it do one cool thing, and somehow that makes up for all the rest of the bullshit?

[daryltwdixon]

Daryl x Reader fluff

prompt: "You can stop hugging me now." | "No, I don't think I can." @creativepromptsforwriting

Summary: Daryl returns from a long trip with something he found, quietly revealing that you’ve been on his mind all along. fluff. drabble.

a/n: just trying to get the writing juices flowing again, been feeling a little bit of a block so thought I'd try this prompt!

The sun hangs low, painting the woods over the fence of the watchtower in warm amber hues. You're peering through your binoculars as Alexandria stretches out behind you, quiet except for the occasional clatter of someone working on the fences. You have one earbud in, listening to your Walkman that's strapped to your hip. The tiny device is temperamental, but it still works, and it’s the one thread tying you to the world before everything fell apart. The music is just low enough that when you adjust your stance, scanning the perimeter again, a distant rumble draws your attention.

You lower the binoculars, squinting against the light until you spot it. The familiar shape of Daryl’s motorcycle cuts through the dusty road leading to the gates. A smile tugs at your lips as you turn to look over the railing down at the gate.

“Sasha,” you say, snagging your earbud out by the wire, “Daryl’s back. Open the gate.”

“Copy that,” she replies, composed and straight faced.

You watch as the gates roll open and Daryl rides in, the low growl of his engine fading as he kills the ignition. He swings off the bike, crossbow slung over his shoulder, and pauses, his eyes lifting to meet yours. Even from this distance, you catch the flicker of something in his gaze—relief, maybe, or something warmer.

“You just gonna stare, or you comin’ down?” he calls, his voice carrying easily in the still evening air.

You smile as you shout down at him, "I'm on duty!"

You watch as he shakes his head and makes his way over. Backpack in hand, he starts climbing the ladder to your perch. By the time he reaches the top, you’re already leaning against the railing, looping your ear buds up to put away. You really hope he can't see how your heart hammers in your ribs when he is near.

There’s something about him that always pulls at you, no matter how much you try to ignore it. Maybe it’s the way he moves, like he’s part of the world but never tethered to it, or the way he notices things without ever calling attention to himself. It’s in the roughness of his voice, the quiet steadiness of his presence, and the flashes of something softer beneath all the grit. You’ve caught yourself watching him more times than you’d like to admit—how his hands move when he works on his bike, the way his brow furrows in thought, the rare curve of his lips when he smirks. And now, with him this close, the familiar tug in your chest feels undeniable.

“Got somethin’ for ya,” he announces when he reaches the top, his voice hoarse from not seeing people for days. He crouches down in front of you, awkwardly pulling something from his bag. A small, rectangular cassette tape catches the light as he holds it out.

Your breath catches when you see the cover. It’s your favorite artist, one you thought you’d never hear again.

“Figured....well, you’re always listenin’ to that thing,” he says, gesturing toward your Walkman. His voice is gruff, but there’s a nervous edge to it, like he’s not sure how you’ll react. “Saw it. Made me...made me think of ya.”

You take it from him, fingers brushing over the cracked plastic of the case, lingering on the edges as if holding it too tightly might make it disappear. Flipping it over, you see the album cover, worn but intact, its familiar image bringing an ache to your chest. Your thoughts stumble, scrambling for something to say, but all you can focus on is the fact that Daryl thought of you. 

He thought of you.

While he was out there, risking his neck for the group, scavenging scraps of the old world, searching for strangers who might one day be allies—he thought of you. The image of him out there, surrounded by danger at every turn, with walkers and worse waiting in the shadows, and still having a moment to think of you, makes your chest tighten. Despite the chaos, the noise, the relentless fight to survive, you were on his mind. Not just as another member of the group, but as someone he cared about enough to bring back this small, fragile piece of comfort.

The thought is overwhelming, pulling the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy with the weight of it. Because in a world where everything is fleeting, Daryl Dixon thought of you.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re moving. Your arms wrap around his neck, catching him off guard. He stiffens, his hands coming up to hover over you, almost unsure if he should touch you. After a heartbeat of not letting go, you feel his voice vibrating in his chest.

“You can stop hugging me now,” he grumbles, though his voice wavers just enough to betray him.

You tighten your grip, pressing your cheek against the warmth of him, breathing in the smell of musk, of pine and leather and cigarettes--so uniquely Daryl, “No,” you whisper, the words soft but sure. “I don’t think I can.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. Then, slowly, his hands settle on the small of your back, tentative but steady. The air between you shifts, quiet and charged, the unspoken things you’re both too afraid to say hanging in the space.

When you finally pull away, his cheeks are tinged pink, and he’s looking anywhere but at you.

“Thank you, Daryl,” you say, holding up the cassette tape like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever owned, "Seriously."

He shrugs, his eyes flickering to yours for just a second before dropping. “Ain’t nothin’.”

But the corner of his mouth quirks up, just a little, as he turns to climb back down the ladder, leaving you with the music, the sunset, and a heart pounding harder than it should.

[vonbabbitt]

ok since people asked about the evil au. also please keep in mind this is a very 2000s/2010score au. its edgy and campy for fun

Isono Miki: Ultimate GFE Streamer

leans HARDCORE into GFE. constantly trying to manipulate money out of lonely people to fund a super bougie and comfortable lifestyle. snakesnake basically

Harada Keizou: Ultimate Butcher

butcher for the sole reason that he truly does enjoy chopping up and segmenting animals

just way over the top campy "haha i love killing and blood soooo much!!" 2010s deviantart creepypasta style

Chiba Airi: Ultimate Scammer

does exclusively ads for scummy faulty products and subscriptions and supplements so she can make mad bank

when we were discussing this in call we just kept saying "buy supplements" over and over and over again so thats the vibe

Kamimura Kazutoshi: Ultimate Cleanup Crew

its the same job but now he does it on the opposite side of the law

works directly in tandem with hasegawa, cleans up evidence and gets rid of bodies etc

personality wise....hes mostly the same LMAO

Hayashi Mai: Ultimate Hitman

doesnt ask questions. gets the job done

just in it for the thrill of the hunt. personality mostly the same but gets a bit feral edgy style when shes getting closer and closer to catching her target

Wada Masanari: Ultimate Con Artist

works with chiba and handles her phone lines

impersonates people's voices to give them the run-around when theyre trying to do something like cancel a subscription ("i wanna speak to the manager" "hi yes this is the manager now.")

buy supplements

Sasaki Hitomi: Ultimate Dictator

hey man gotta do something with those leadership skills

absolutely ruthless war criminal. this one is probably the most evil i think

Ojima Takeshi: Ultimate AI Artist

"nakamigawa i actually really like this design but i honestly think you could buff it up a lot with midjourney"

calls himself a "prompt engineer"

"wow cool drawing! i ran it through chatgpt to improve it a bit"

just a hardcore AI bro. thinks AI art is the absolute effing best and definitely real art

Okazaki Hanano: Ultimate Superhero

okay so shes not evil anymore

we thought it would be funny if in this evil AU shes just good now

still the rival of tsuno manami though

Hama Ran: Ultimate Occult Evangelist

just a straight up cultist

considers himself an "angel hunter", hunts down alleged "angels" and kills them in the name of his cult

tries to rope other people into his cult evangelism style

Tsuno Manami: Ultimate Supervillain

yeah pretty much what it says on the tin here

shes evil now

except shes actually good at it unlike okazaki

wants to take over the world or perhaps just blow it up maybe

Hiroaki Nakamigawa: Ultimate Model Coach

coaches young fashion models extremely harshly and pushes his fashion VERY hard

basically just yells at and insults these teenagers until they get eating disorders or quit forever

BRUTALLY mean

Tamba Ruiko: Ultimate Detective

except she absolutely fucking sucks at it

her detective-ing is an active detriment to everyone and actively sabotages crime scenes

she has no idea she sucks

Hasegawa Ken: Ultimate Information Broker

one smug motherfucker

works directly with kamimura in their little two man mafia

collects peoples information and uses it to blackmail them out of a massive amount of money and resources

Watari Nishino: Ultimate Demolitionist

we thought arson was way too basic

so now she blows stuff up with huge bombs

just for fun i guess. and can fun ever really be evil? certainly no way

Yanagi Shigeki: Ultimate Pick-up Artist

teaches those sigma male courses on how to pick up women

massive chauvinist

treats women like cattle and acts with the full intention of picking up as many of them as possible

[daeniradraconis]

plz a auston matthews with fluff prompt 5 or 6!

Thank you for requesting! 💖

Exactly the Way You Are

Auston Matthews had never been one to care what people thought of him. On the ice, he was ruthless, a powerhouse of skill and precision. Off the ice, he was a little different. A little softer, a little more particular about things like fashion, skincare, or the way he folded his sweaters. And it had never really bothered him before.

Until you.

Because suddenly, he found himself second-guessing. Suddenly, he caught himself hesitating before ordering sushi instead of a steak, before tossing on a designer coat instead of a flannel, before meticulously applying his moisturizer in the morning. Suddenly, he was hyper-aware of every single way he might not measure up to the men you had been with before.

For the first time in his life, a relationship wasn’t just about having fun—it was about you. It was about keeping you. And only two weeks in, he knew. He was in love with you, and he never wanted to let you go.

Which was why the thought of you realizing he might not be enough for you, scared the absolute hell out of him.

Because your exes? They were the kind of men who made Auston feel like he was playing pretend. A soldier, a farmer and a firefighter. Guys who could chop wood with their bare hands and fix an engine without breaking a sweat. Men who probably thought a ten-step skincare routine was some kind of witchcraft and would rather eat raw meat than admit they’d ever used lip balm.

So Auston tried. God, did he try.

He took you to steakhouses, even though he much preferred sushi. He wore rugged flannels—even though he hated how they felt, all stiff and itchy—and made a point of rolling up his sleeves when he was fixing things around the house (which, let’s be honest, usually meant watching a YouTube tutorial for an hour before calling a professional). He threw around words like “torque” and “horsepower,” even though he had no real clue what they meant.

But then, there were moments when he slipped—when the real Auston surfaced, whether he meant to or not. Like when you caught him meticulously folding his sweaters, using a technique he’d picked up from some high-end fashion influencer, just to keep his wool cardigan in pristine condition. Or when he helped you pick out the perfect moisturizer for Toronto’s brutal winter, because after just a month in the cold, your skin always felt like sandpaper. Or when he let out a frustrated sigh after a particularly bad game and you found him later in bed, a lavender sheet mask on his face and an expensive candle burning on the nightstand.

And tonight? Tonight was one of those nights.

You watched as he carefully plated the pasta he’d just made, placing each strand with precision before garnishing it with fresh basil. His brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in concentration—he looked like an artist at work.

“You know,” you mused, leaning against the counter with a smirk, “you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Auston shot you a puzzled look. “Pretend what?”

“That you’re something you’re not.” You reached across the counter, letting your hand gently slide down his forearm. “That you’re this rugged, tough guy all the time. I mean, I love that you try so hard, but Aus…” You tilted your head, offering him a warm smile. “It’s actually really sexy that you care about this kind of stuff.”

His fingers froze over the plate. “What stuff?” He tried to play it off, like he had no idea what you were talking about.

“This.” You gestured to the food, the perfectly pressed shirt he wore, the way his skin practically glowed—thanks to whatever magic serum he used—and the accessories that matched effortlessly with his outfit, right down to the purple beanie perched on his head.

Even if Auston had toned down his fashion choices a bit, trying to seem more traditionally “manly” for you, he still looked perfectly put together. Stylish. And, honestly? Mouthwateringly sexy.

“You take care of yourself. You care about the details. And honestly? That’s peak masculinity to me.”

He let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. “But your exes—”

“They’re my exes for a reason,” you interrupted, stepping around the counter and wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want you, Matty. Believe it or not.”

You could feel the tension in his shoulders, the way he hesitated, like he was waiting for you to take it all back. Like he was still unsure whether the way he was was enough for you.

“I know you use a women’s deodorant just because you love the smell,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And I know you put SPF on your face every morning, then secretly reapply it every few hours, thinking I don’t notice.” A small smile played on your lips. “I see you spending hours in the kitchen, making sure everything is perfect, just to do something nice for us. You try to hide those things, like they don’t fit into some idea of what a man is supposed to be.”

You leaned in, pressing your cheek against his chest. “But Matty, I love those things about you. I love that you care, that you pay attention, that you take care of yourself—and us. That’s not something to hide. That’s not less masculine.” Your voice softened, becoming a gentle reassurance. “That’s what makes you, you. And that’s exactly who I want.”

His arms circled your waist, but there was still a hint of hesitation in his touch. “Yeah, but… what if you wake up one day and realize you’d rather be with someone who can actually build you a bookshelf, instead of paying someone else to do it?”

You laughed softly, standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Baby, I’m not looking for a guy who can build a bookshelf—I need someone to build a life with me. And, ideally, someone who knows the difference between La Mer and drugstore moisturizer. Because if I ever get pregnant and can’t use retinol, at least one of us needs to keep my skincare game strong.”

He huffed out a laugh, pulling you closer. “You really don’t want me to start chopping wood in the backyard?”

You grinned, dragging your fingers through his hair. “I mean, you could, just for fun. But let’s be real—you’d spend more time making sure your flannel matched your beanie than actually chopping.”

“Wow.” He pulled back just enough to raise an eyebrow at you. “You’re really coming for me right now.”

“I’m just saying,” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “I love you exactly the way you are. No flannel required.”

He exhaled, something in his expression softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, pulling him down for another soft kiss. “But for the record, if you ever do grow a full blown beard, I reserve the right to call you Lumberjack Papi.”

Auston groaned. “Oh my God, I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” You smiled mischievously.

He shook his head with a playful grin before crashing his lips against yours, deeper this time, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you even closer. The kiss became more urgent, more desperate, as the world around you seemed to blur. The pasta sat forgotten on the counter, the only thing that mattered was the heat between you.

–

Later that night, you both found yourselves tangled in the sheets, his head resting against your chest, the warmth of his body pressing into yours like he belonged there. His slow, steady breathing was like a soft rhythm, a lullaby that pulled you into a calm, peaceful quiet. His arm was draped over you, fingers lightly curling into the fabric of your shirt, as if trying to keep you close. You lovingly ran your fingers through his hair, the soft curls brushing against your fingertips as his breath warmed your skin.

His golden tan glowed faintly under the dim light, the perfect contrast to the dark mess of his hair, and every now and then, the faintest shadow of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You felt his chest rise and fall with each breath, the steady beat of his heart a comforting presence against yours. His mustache—still that goofy, charming thing—brushed against your skin as he shifted slightly, mumbling something you couldn’t quite make out.

"You look so peaceful when you sleep," you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, feeling his warmth sink deeper into you.

Auston hummed, a soft, contented noise that sounded like a mix between a sigh and a half-chuckle. His grip on you tightened just a little, pulling you in closer as his sleepy eyes flickered open, barely adjusting to the dark. His gaze was hazy, unfocused, the deep brown of his eyes soft and distant, as if he was still caught in the in-between of sleep and wakefulness.

"'S’cause of you," he mumbled in that thick, sleepy voice of his, barely more than a whisper. "Always you. Don’ ever wanna let you go, babe."

Your heart skipped a beat, a gentle ache blossoming in your chest. It wasn’t even intentional, the way he said it—his words muffled by sleep, heavy with the warmth of his affection, like a confession he didn’t even realize he was sharing.

"You’re not even awake right now," you teased gently, your fingers grazing over his jawline.

He huffed a little, a sleepy laugh escaping him, and his arms tightened around you instinctively, pulling you closer, like he wanted to make sure you were right there. His face nuzzled into your chest, his nose brushing against your skin, and he sighed deeply, like the world could melt away as long as he stayed wrapped up in you.

As you lay there, his warmth surrounding you, everything else felt so distant. There were no worries, no doubts—just the steady beat of his heart against yours. He was exactly what you needed—his quiet strength, the little ways he cared for you, the way he made you feel safe even in the simplest moments. It was those small, real things that mattered most.

In his arms, there was no pressure to be anything other than what you were. Just him—Auston. The guy who could make you laugh, who made you feel seen and heard, and most importantly, who made you feel loved.

And as you drifted off to sleep, tangled in him, you just knew. He was yours. Forever.