#so heres a snippet

[aiweirdness]

“Slopsquatting” in a nutshell:

1. LLM-generated code tries to run code from online software packages. Which is normal, that’s how you get math packages and stuff but

2. The packages don’t exist. Which would normally cause an error but

3. Nefarious people have made malware under the package names that LLMs make up most often. So

4. Now the LLM code points to malware.

https://www.theregister.com/2025/04/12/ai_code_suggestions_sabotage_supply_chain/

[cubedmango]

「安達が魔法使いにならなかった世界線の話」 + 「もしもの話」 — english translation

[save-the-villainous-cat]

"Are you jealous? Is that it?" the hero whispered. They were fully aware of the villain's personality. They were aware of the insecurities, the fears.

"I'd rather not talk about it," the villain answered. Instinctively, the hero reached for the villain's palm and let their fingertips dance over their skin. It was a soft attempt. The villain did not mind.

"You can't keep me here forever." With a deep sigh, the villain pulled away slowly, avoiding the hero's gaze and turned their eyes towards the window.

The hero knew that at times the villain could be quite delicate. Easy to break. And the hero also knew their role in this play, knew that if anyone could destroy them, if anyone had the power to defeat the villain, it was them. It was the hero.

The hero could have (if they wanted, that is) broken the villain in a matter of seconds.

To possess that kind of power was dangerous and the hero took no pride in it. They didn't want it. They didn't want to hurt anyone.

"I know," the villain said. "I'm sorry."

"I mean, honestly, I wish you could, but I have work and they will file a missing person's report and everything will be messy..."

"I know," the villain repeated with the same heartbreaking tone. "Sorry, I didn't really think about that."

They turned to look at the hero, ready to say something but they closed their mouth again. The hero bit the inside of their cheek. In the last few weeks, something had happened to them. They seemed to long for the hero's company, protected them more often, saw them more often.

For the most part, the villain was a silent threat, a calm force that stroke once and didn't miss. Sometimes, it felt like all the hero had to do was call out their name and they would appear.

That gave them a sense of security. Trust was important and they had worked long and hard to gain the villain's trust.

"What did you think about?"

"You." The villain tilted their head, gaze burning into the floor. "Mostly just you."

"Come here," the hero said and the villain didn't hesitate. They sat down next to them on the couch, looking effortlessly flawless but still tired. The hero took their hand again, choosing their next words carefully. Clearly, the villain wanted some kind of connection. They wanted something. Maybe they couldn't express it, maybe they didn't know where to start.

But the hero couldn't take it anymore. They were tip-toeing around each other and before it escalated and someone got hurt, they wanted to make a few things very clear.

With their fingers on the villain's jawline, they turned their enemy's face to look at them.

"Look, I..." The hero's eyes accidentally dropped to the villain's mouth and suddenly, the hero understood how difficult it could be to force those words out of their mouth. They could understand why the villain preferred to kidnap them instead of confronting their feelings like this. "I...you..."

"Yeah?" The villain put their hand on the hero's thigh.

"Is it jealousy?"

"A little, I think."

"What else?" The villain looked away, but the hero turned the villain's head with their fingers again.

"You know I like you more than I should," the villain said. They cupped the hero's cheek with their hand and let their thumb go over their bottom lip. "You know we should not..."

But the hero didn't care about that.

The villain seemed to be tortured by the fact that they had fallen in love. They were barely themselves.

And the hero couldn't live with themselves, knowing that they were responsible for someone's misery, especially when that someone was the villain who had proven countless of times what kind of person they were.

The hero knew about the troubled childhood and the horrible coping mechanisms, they knew about the anger issues and the many mistakes, knew about the regret and the guilt.

So, they leaned forward and kissed them. They tried to forget about the we shouldn't and closed their eyes, just as desperate for company as the villain. They were hesitant at first, clumsy even.

When was the last time someone had wanted them romantically? The hero knew about the public, about the media. They knew that a lot of people wanted them in a very crude way and were merely interested in having power over the hero.

But the villain was gentle. They didn't push, they didn't force. They protected, they encouraged, even if it was counterproductive for their own goals. They compromised where they shouldn't have and backed down when they crossed lines.

If this was some kind of manipulation, the hero was gladly walking into this trap. They were willing to get hurt at the expense of having someone value and appreciate them, having someone who protected them instead of the hero being the one who had to protect.

The villain's lips were warm against theirs and the hero regretted not having done this sooner. They had the feeling that the villain wasn’t sure what they were doing either.

However, they pulled away quickly, surprised that they were so daring. When they looked at the villain, they could see their enemy blush.

"Oh..." was all the villain managed and the hero themselves wasn't sure how to respond.

“Sorry, I…I wasn’t thinking.”

“That’s fine, that’s totally fine,” the villain said. They didn’t look at the hero. Their ears were red.

“Please don’t be sad.”

“I’m not.”

“No, I mean…” The hero took their hands again. “Please don’t worry. I like you, too. I like you a lot. I know it’s hard to say, but I want to spend more time with you.”

The villain stared at them as if they’d said something shocking.

“But kidnapping isn’t really…the ideal date, you know?”

“Oh, I—”

“So, let’s go out next week, sounds good?”

The villain blinked a few times, still staring at the hero.

“Yes, yes I’d like that.”

[seleneprince]

Snippet of my Neglected! Family x Yandere! Batfam au (I really need to find a name for this au already)

Wife! Darling has known of the Batcave's existence for years already, and so do her children.

She found out by pure accident. Her oldest daughter was doing her usual computer stuff she didn't understand, and said she found a weird signal coming from under the manor, in the underground...only they didn't know there was anything down there, not even a basement. Alfred never mentioned it.

The girl went to check, tracing the mysterious signal with her phone, and found a hidden compartment behind the pendulum clock. Before her mother could tell her to stop, she went down there.

Cue to Wife! Darling following her daughter to make sure she didn't get in trouble or hurt herself, because who knew if Batman even bothered with basic security measures for his vigilante stuff. From what she's seen of him as Bruce Wayne, she doubted it.

And that's how they found the Batcave. By the time Alfred found out and met them there, the daughter had already tinkered with half the equipment and replicated part of the Batcomputer's code in her tablet for fun, while her mother explored the whole place with a critical eye. Alfred expected them to be angry, to ask a lot of questions, but instead:

Wife! Darling!: "Who takes care of this place?"

Alfred: "Mostly me, Mistress (Name)."

Wife! Darling squinted her eyes, gaze darkening: "Just you? Does no one help you?"

Alfred: "It's part of my job, Mistress (Name). Don't worry, I can handle it perfectly well on my own."

She scoffed. "Well, this has to change. You're just one man, Alfred, and you're not getting younger with the years. The fact that they let you do so much already by yourself is infuriating, and you also have to clean after their crime-fighting bullshit? The nerve. I'll take care of this from now on"

Alfred blinked: "Mistress (Name), I can't possibly ask you that. You already help me more than enough around the house-"

Wife! Darling: "Nonsense, Alfred. You do way too much already. At this rate, it'll only affect your health for worse. I live here too now, so technically it's also my responsibility."

And that's how she ends up handling the maintenance of the Batcave along with Alfred, even taking over his tasks entirely. She starts off with the excuse of helping him, which it's true, but eventually she always takes care everything so the man has no option but rest.

And because she's such a perfectionist, she doesn't spare any efforts in the task. Cleans all the surfaces, fixes the suits, rearranges the weapons after cleaning them and creates a system to organize their gadgets so they're much easier to find. Even the Batmobile is left spotless, inside and outside. She goes as far to feed some of the bats casually roaming around the edges of the cave.

(And if her kids had naps inside the batmobile sometimes when they were down there, only she and Alfred are witnesses. Well, the bats too, but they're not snitching)

This way she takes some work off Alfred's shoulders. She finds it enraging that a man his age has such a heavy load of work with little to no help, so she takes over some of the house chores for him so he can have breaks. Plus, it helps her unwind and relax a bit from her usually stress-fuelled life.

She also begins to leave snarky notes about the shameful state of their gear when she finds it in particularly bad shape. And feels even worse that Alfred has had to take care of all of this at his age until she came.

"This blade is duller than your sense of self-awareness. Fix it"

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up"

"If you die in this crusty suit, I’m not cleaning your corpse"

"Are you fighting villains or rolling in garbage?"

Seriously, the richest man in Gotham can't even afford a bit more of staff? But of course, she reminds herself he's the same man who forgot to use protection when fucking a random woman, so she shouldn't expect too much from him.

To avoid uncomfortable encounters, she specifically schedules her cleaning times for when the whole team is out, so she can work peacefully without being having to be in the same room as them. So far, it goes well. Alfred even warns her when they're coming back, and the Batcave is actually a pretty nice place to enjoy time for yourself when it's empty. Just the beeping of the computers as background noise, or her children messing around when they go down there to do their things.

It becomes part of her routine, one she even looks forward too during the day. Until one day.

The Batcave has been left spotless, as usual. Weapons polished. Suits lined up by height and damage level. Even the Batmobile has that new-car shimmer. It smells faintly of citrus-scented cleaning spray and frustration. There are also four sticky notes scattered across the table already, complaining about the state of their things again.

She is crouched near the weapon rack, holding the Batman suit with one gloved hand and a lint roller in the other, glaring at it like it personally offended her.

She mutters under her breath in Spanish, something about how "ni siquiera una máquina de coser podría salvar este desastre de traje, Dios mío." (Not even a sewing machine could save this disaster of a suit, my godness)

She’s in sweats, hair tied back in a messy bun. An apron over her tank top that says "KISS THE COOK (or don’t, I’ll stab you)". She's so deep in the cleaning zone she doesn’t hear the footsteps.

"Well, this is a surprise. I could get used to this."

Her entire body freezes. It feels like her blood turned ice in her veins instantly with the voice. That irritating, familiar voice.

Her head turns slowly, and there he is. Bruce Wayne in the flesh. Her husband in paper, father of her first child, owner of this cave, and responsible for half of the stress she deals with.

She could be annoyed or even embarrassed that he caught her like this, handling his suit no less. But instead, her mind is focused on what he said, and the tone in which he said it.

She arches a brow at him.

"Excuse me?"

He steps closer, clearly taking note of her work there. His eyes drifting to the Batmobile, the weapons, all she's taken care of already.

Bruce: "Me, coming back from work to find you cleaning my stuff. It’s so… domestic. It’s almost like we’re a married couple."

There’s a beat. A dangerous silence.

She blinks at him. Once. Twice. Processing the fact that he really said that. Out loud. To her. And in a completely serious tone.

Then he looks at her, and she notices the ghost of a smirk at the corner of his mouth. Oh, that filthy little-

Her eye twitches.

Wife! Darling: "...........Oh, absolutely."

WHACK.

She chucks a batarang at his head with a speed and accuracy that would’ve made Deadshot whistle. He barely ducks, and it slams into the metal behind him with a THUNK so loud the Batcomputer flinches and some bats burst out from their spots.

Bruce: "That could’ve taken my eye out."

Wife! Darling:"I was hoping so."

He stares at her, and then shakes his head, letting out a low chuckle. A chuckle. Since when is this man capable of that? Before she gets her answer, he pulls out the batarang with ease and places it back on the rack (Good, she would've murdered him for real if he left it anywhere else).

Bruce: "I meant it. I think I like this sight of you. Suits you well. You look like the ideal housewife."

Without looking, she reaches for another batarang and throws it at him. This time, he catches it mid-air, cool as ever, before setting it down on the table like he isn’t one second away from getting stabbed.

Bruce: "Was that really necessary?"

Wife! Darling: "It was either that or shoot you. You're lucky I'm generous today."

He watches her, barely concealing his amusement now, but there’s something else in his expression too, something he's never had when looking at her: Curiosity.

She doesn't like it.

Unbothered, as if he didn't just activate her kill switch, he starts to walk to the table and peels off one of the sticky notes, reading it aloud with a deadpan tone.

"Blood is not a fashion statement. Grow up."

Bruce: "You know I beat the shit out of people in this suit, right?"

She replies without sparing him a glance, wiping down a grappling gun with unholy aggression: "Yeah? Well, do it without staining it with their blood. You look like Gotham’s dirtiest raccoon."

He leans against the Batcomputer, arms folded. "How long have you been doing this, exactly?"

She scoffs, going back to adjusting the suit like she isn’t being interrogated. "Long enough to know that you leave your weapons in a shameful state. Honestly, it’s a miracle your stupid gadgets still function. Do you ever bother to maintain your own things, or do you just throw them around and hope Alfred fixes it?"

He watches her for a moment longer before finally speaking.

"And you’re doing this because...?"

"Because unlike some people in this godforsaken house, I actually care when an old man is running himself ragged taking care of things that none of you seem to appreciate."

Bruce pauses. He glances at the Batmobile, cleaner than it’s ever been. At his weapons, neatly arranged, polished, functional.

At the post-it notes stuck to the Batcomputer, scrawled in Rosa’s angry handwriting.

He actually huffs a quiet laugh. Again. It's unsettling her.

Then, almost as an afterthought, she mutters, "Besides, if you die because your equipment fails, it’s only a matter of time before you try to drag me into this circus. And I refuse to wear spandex."

He raises an eyebrow. "You’d look good in spandex."

Silence.

She throws the batarang at him again. This time, it actually clips his shoulder.

"Go get that treated before you stain anything, or I'll wipe the floors next with your face."

.......................

...........

Suddenly, Bruce starts to "casually" come to the cave early more often.

Now she has to adjust her schedule AGAIN to avoid him. And in the meantime, her children start betting on how many batarangs it takes before Bruce gets critically injured. Or dead.

[demaparbat-hp]

Oh, Lala...

[warmblanketwhump]

A gets sick while away at a cabin with friends, and they’re battling a fever.

their bed has ample quilts and blankets, but their bedroom itself is quite chilly, as there’s no central heating. They toss and turn, in and out of sleep, feverish brain wound too tightly to truly rest. around 4am is when A really starts getting desperate—they just want to get comfortable, and they can’t.

so they wrap up in a thick blanket and shuffle to the main room. Their shaking hands prop up the logs and fuel in the fireplace like B showed them. It takes three strikes of matches before A can hold one steadily enough to light the crumpled piece of paper.

The fire catches, and A sits back and wraps up tighter in their blanket, hands rubbing up and down their arms. The great room seems even colder now, but they’re far too weak to go back to their bedroom, and someone has to watch the fire.

a few hours later, their friends find them curled up and half-asleep on the cold stone hearth next to the dying embers, their fever markedly worse.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Here before and after me chapter 4 ??? So soon ??? In this economy ????

More likely than u think...

[moonydanny]

Little fic idea I had... Maybe if you guys like it I can expand it a bit?

After Eddie drops the bomb that he’s leaving, Buck holds it together.

Honestly, he’s kinda proud of himself for that. He does help with the video call with the realtor. Helps Eddie pick a house. They have a beer after. And he holds it together.

When he goes to leave, he gets into his Jeep and starts to feel himself losing it. But he knows he has to hold it a bit longer. He’ll let go when he gets to the loft. Only he doesn’t drive to the loft. Without realizing it, he ends up in front of Tommy’s house. And he sees Tommy’s truck in the driveway, so he knows he’s home.

He sits there for a minute, two, trying to find the strength to drive away, but his resolve is crumbling, and he needs Tommy. So he walks to the door and knocks before he can change his mind.

Tommy opens the door, and the surprise is clear on his face. And god, how Buck has missed his face. 

“Hey. What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

And that’s what does it, what breaks the dam. His eyes fill with tears, and through his blurry vision he sees Tommy’s expression morph into genuine worry.

“Eddie is leaving for Texas”, he says, voice barely above a whisper, the words only just going past the lump in his throat. Tommy’s eyebrows go up in disbelief and his eyes go all soft as he looks at Buck.

“I—Tommy.”

Next thing he knows, Tommy’s arms are around him, holding him tight as a sob finally tears from deep in his chest.

[stellewriites]

ghost and soap that move in together in between missions to save on money and eventually - inevitably - fall into bed together. but somethings missing

they’re both a little too sharp around the edges, need something sweet to ease their cravings and soften their bites, but no one fits right

until you, that is. so don’t be surprised when they make sure you’re sticking around by any means necessary

[elitadream]

Words cannot express how delighted I am that this movie exists and how eager I am to watch it.

It feels like a blend of Journey and Stray. My two favorite Indie games of all time. ;_; 💗 I just know this is going to be absolutely spectacular. ✨

[andarateiacantori]

am i crazy or has very little of what bioware has revealed so far been actual "spoilers" and not just very typical game marketing to get people interested in the story... like i get wanting to go in blind of course but then you shouldnt be watching this marketing stuff to start with lol

[futuristichedge]

Disability headcanons

[viviarts-c]

Happy Valentine's! Have a College Mystery Trio Valentine's Day special!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 3.5 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

Valentine's Day Special

[cspcrashing]

☠️: kurosaki. what the hell kinda shirt is this ?

🍓: i only said it would fit you, not that it would be your style. besides, it looks fine on you.

☠️: you— fuckin' whatever doc'.

🍓: you like it, don't you.

☠️: shut it.

[cryborgmechs]

panic