#what is low code technology

[orcelito]

Had a moment of listening to music I liked back when I was a teenager (& still like) and having a whole. Realization . That I like myself as I am now sooooo much better than I like teenage me. And I started thinking about Why.

There's a lot to it I'm pretty sure, & most of it centers around the fact that I just... didn't really know who I was as a person. I didn't really have hobbies outside of what I did in school (aka orchestra) and like. Video games + anime. I did creative writing in middle school, but dropped off in high school for... some reason? I still made original characters and played around with them a lot, but it was mostly just in drawing and thinking about them. I never actually *wrote*, and I in fact didn't get back into creative writing at all until I was 23 years old. I was someone who had spent so long hiding behind others and just doing what I was told that I just... didn't have any real direction. I didn't know what I even *wanted*. I thought I knew, but in hindsight, I can confidently say that I didn't. I was just an insecure teen drifting through life and not thinking about things beyond what was immediately in front of me. Which is pretty standard for teenagers I guess, but not all of them. Not at all.

Compared to now, where I have Many hobbies, most notably being writing. As I am now, I am just Intrinsically a writer. And it's weird to remember that I wasn't even really *writing* before 5 years ago (besides text rps, which did a lot for developing my writing skill! But still aren't a replacement for writing individually). As a teen, I wasnt into dnd, I was incredibly out of shape, & I was a lot less aggressive and focused. I was the type to avoid sports!!! I hated them!!!! But as I am now, I Love biking and can easily bike for an hour+ no problem (I remember being a teen and trying to go on just 10 minute bike rides in the summer and just *dying* from it), & I love working out. I wanna be strong!!! I LOVE being strong!!! And I was an absolute mess with things like public speaking & working in groups, vs now where I can do an impromptu presentation no problem & I'm often the unofficial leader in group projects bc im typically the one who does the organizing and allotments of work. A side effect of working as a supervisor and then assistant manager for so long. I have a lot more confidence in my perceptions and judgements, & I have the self-assurance to assert these things. And this is only really the tip of the iceberg with all the differences.

I just feel like an entirely different person, almost. The cores are the same, or at least damn near similar, with the things I want out of life & the sorts of things I enjoy, but it's like. The difference between finding a random rock off the side of the road & then that rock when it's been sanded and carved and decorated to be something individual and unique. You look at them side by side and it's something dull vs something shiny and intricate. The origins can't be ignored and dismissed, & I certainly would never resent younger me for just doing the best with what I knew at the time. But it's just astounding how much difference time and experience will have for growing and developing as a person. Things I consider integral to my personhood weren't even thoughts in my mind back then. We are almost entirely different people.

[hoe4hotchner]

Hi! I just read you blurb about Hotch with gen z reader and I absolutely love it, it's hilarious! ♡

Can I please request Hotch struggling with technology/apps and gen z reader helping him?

Thank you so much ♡♡

Terms and conditions | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Gen-Z!reader | WC: 1.7k | CW: Fluff. I feel like I might have made hotch into a whump in the second part of the fic (he's a little pathetic)

A/N: Tyyyyyy 💕💕

You could sense it the second you walked into the bullpen, something was wrong.

Not murder-in-Mississippi wrong, but Hotch-is-glowering-at-his-phone wrong. Which, all things considered, was still code red. You paused by your desk, coffee in hand, watching your unit chief stab at his screen through the open blinds of his office, like it owed him money.

Hotch’s jaw was tight, his brows drawn into a furrow that could’ve doubled as a trench. You’d seen him face down unsubs with less venom.

Rossi sauntered past with a file tucked under his arm. “He’s been at it for ten minutes,” he murmured, his lips twitching with a barely concealed smirk. “Try not to laugh too loud.”

You snorted softly, already knowing that it was a losing battle. Hotch’s technological struggles were the tales of BAU legends – whispered about in the break room like campfire stories.

The man could profile a psychopath in his sleep but ask him to navigate an app store, and he looked like he was defusing a bomb with a paperclip.

Adjusting your grip on your coffee, you strolled up to his office with the casual confidence of someone who’d grown up with a smartphone practically grafted to their hand.

“Morning, sir,” you said, popping your head through his open door. “Everything okay?”

Hotch didn’t look up. His voice was a low growl, clipped and precise. “No. It’s not.”

That stopped you. Aaron Hotchner didn’t admit weakness, not to unsubs, not to bureaucrats, and certainly not to his team. For him to let that frustration slip through the cracks of his carefully constructed facade was as rare as a sunny day in Quantico without a murder call.

You tilted your head as you moved closer to his desk, catching a glimpse of his screen, and had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from grinning.

“Are you… trying to download an app?” you asked, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

He finally looked at you, and for one glorious, fleeting moment, Aaron Hotchner – elite profiler, veteran federal agent, and the BAU’s resident stoic leader – looked utterly, hopelessly lost.

His eyes held a mix of exasperation and something that might’ve been embarrassment, though he’d never admit it.

“I’m attempting to install the airline app,” he said, each word measured as if explaining a tactical maneuver. “We have a connecting flight through Dallas next week since the jet is still out of commission, and the travel department suggested I… ‘check in on mobile.’” The air quotes were practically audible, laced with disdain for the very concept.

You pressed your lips together, fighting the urge to laugh. “Okay. What’s the issue?”

He turned the phone toward you, revealing the problem in stark white and gray: Your Apple ID password is required to proceed.

“Oh no,” you said, unable to stop the grin now. “You don’t know your Apple password.”

Hotch’s eyes narrowed into the patented Hotchner Glare, the one that could make a hardened criminal confess in under ten seconds. “I didn’t realize it required a password just to check into a flight,” he said.

You nodded like you were diagnosing a patient. “Well, technically, it’s for downloading the app. It’s a security thing, two-factor authentication, biometrics, the whole deal.”

He blinked at you, slow and deliberate, like you’d just recited quantum physics in Klingon. “Two-factor… what?”

You couldn’t help it, you beamed. “Don’t worry, sir. I got you.”

Dragging a chair over to his desk, you plopped down with the enthusiasm of a tech support guru about to perform a miracle. You rolled up your sleeves dramatically.

“Alrighty, let’s start from the top. Do you know your email?”

“Yes,” he said, with a hint of offense, like you’d asked if he knew his own name.

“Great. Baby steps. Do you know the password for it?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. A muscle twitched in his jaw. “Why would I need that?”

You froze, coffee halfway to your lips. “Oh boy.”

What followed was a twenty-minute odyssey through the labyrinth of modern technology. You guided Hotch through resetting his Apple ID, navigating the recovery process, and answering security questions that seemed designed to torment him (“What was the name of your first pet?” “I don’t remember.” “Okay, what’s the name of your favorite book?” “Why does this matter?”). By the time you’d successfully reset his account, installed the airline app, and added three others he grudgingly admitted might be useful (calendar, notes, and a weather app, because “it’s practical”), you felt like you’d earned a medal.

“Now for the fun part,” you said, leaning closer to show him Face ID. “You just look at the phone, and it unlocks. No typing required.”

He squinted at the screen as it scanned his face, then unlocked with a soft click. “You mean I don’t have to type anything anymore?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief like you’d just revealed the secret to eternal youth.

“Welcome to 2025, sir,” you said, leaning back with a grin.

Hotch stared at the phone for a long moment, then looked at you. His voice softened, just enough to catch you off guard. “That’s… actually impressive.”

You raised an eyebrow, mock-offended. “Careful, Hotch. That almost sounded like praise.”

The barest flicker of a smirk crossed his lips, gone as quickly as it appeared. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

You tapped his screen one last time, double-checking the airline app. “Okay, you’re good to go. App’s installed, accounts are logged in, and flight alerts are on. You’re officially a digital native.”

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling through his nose, a rare moment of visible relief.

“Thank you,” he said. “I don’t know how you all keep up with this.”

You shrugged, deadpanning, “Years of trauma, TikTok, and depression memes. It builds character.”

He gave you a look that was equal parts amusement and fond exasperation, the kind of look that made your stomach do a little flip. “I worry about your generation,” he said, but there was no real bite to it.

You smirked. “That’s fair. We worry about you too.”

Two weeks later, the BAU was airborne again, returning from a case in Arizona. The jet was quiet, save for the hum of the engines and the occasional murmur of conversation between Reid and Prentiss across the aisle. You were seated next to Hotch, who was, predictably, staring at his phone like it was a live grenade.

“Okay,” he muttered, almost to himself. “So if I press this…”

You leaned over, peering at his screen. “You trying to check the weather?”

He nodded, his expression a mix of determination and mild panic. “The app says there’s a storm on the way, but it won’t load the updates.”

With an easy grin, you reached for his phone. “I got it.”

He handed it over without protest, and that small gesture hit you harder than it should’ve. Hotch didn’t trust easily, not with cases, not with people, and definitely not with technology. But here he was, letting you take the reins, watching you in a way that made your heart skip.

You showed him how to refresh the app, toggle the alerts, and even sign up for text notifications so he’d get updates without wrestling the app into submission. “That should cover you,” you said, handing the phone back.

He studied the screen for a moment, then looked at you, his gaze lingering longer than usual. “You’re very good at this,” he said, his voice low.

Your brows lifted. “Tech stuff?”

“Yes,” he said, but there was something else in his tone, something heavier. “But… also, you’re patient with me. Most people aren’t.”

You softened, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. “It’s because you’re trying,” you said, matching his tone. “That’s all that matters. I mean, yeah, you kind of suck at it–”

He shot you a look, one eyebrow raised in warning.

“–but you’re learning,” you finished, grinning. “You don’t give up. That’s admirable.”

He didn’t respond right away, just watched you with that unreadable expression he wore so well. Then, quietly, “You remind me of Jack’s babysitter.”

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Romance me, why don’t you.”

His eyes widened slightly, a rare crack in his composure. “That wasn’t-”

You laughed, waving him off. “Relax, Hotch. I know what you meant.” You nudged him with your elbow, lightening the mood. “Next lesson: memes. You’re way behind.”

He groaned, but it was more theatrical than genuine. “Do I have to?”

You grinned, undeterred. “Terms and conditions, sir. You want my help, you’re gonna have to suffer through at least three ‘Vine’ references a week and the dog of wisdom.”

He sighed, long and suffering. “I have no idea what that means.”

“And that’s how I know we’ll make a great team.”

Later that night, as the team disembarked the plane and shuffled toward the parking lot, Hotch fell into step beside you. Not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his presence in the chilly air outside the private terminal the jet had landed at.

The rest of the team was ahead, somehow still bickering about who’d lost the rental car keys back in Arizona (it was definitely Morgan).

“I looked up what Skibidi Toilet was,” Hotch said, his voice low, like he was admitting to a crime.

You gasped, delighted. “No. You didn’t.”

“I did.”

“And?”

He shook his head, his expression a mix of horror and resignation. “…I regret everything.”

You cackled, loud enough to earn a glance from Rossi up ahead.

“Welcome to my world, old man.”

But then he turned to you, and his voice softened. “Thank you,” he said, “for not making me feel stupid.”

Your heart tugged, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his words. “You’re not stupid, Hotch,” you said quietly. “You’re just… analog in a digital world.”

That earned you a smile, a real smile. “I suppose I could stand to be a little more digital,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “If it means I get to keep up with you.”

You stopped walking for a fraction of a second, your breath catching. Then you grinned, nudging him again. “Careful, sir. That almost sounded like flirting.”

He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes said more than words ever could.

And as you walked side by side, you couldn’t help but think that maybe the gap between analog and digital wasn’t so wide after all. Not when it came to him.

[timmydraker]

CW: use of R word

Tim who, as much as he doesn’t want it to be true, is a poster boy for typical Neurodivergence. He’s more logically thinking that emotionally and needs obvious signs of someone’s emotional state that he can put together to understand how he should respond to help them.

But that’s not what bothers him because that doesn’t bother his parents.

Instead it’s his passion, though not in technology and detective work as they quickly found use for that in their business, but for bugs.

Ever since he was a kid Tim has been enamoured by insects and arachnids and even fungi. He would only read books that talked about bugs or had one on the cover, but since it helped him learn to read at a steady pace his parents didn’t mind.

At least, not at first.

When Tim got into coding just so he could make his own little web-journal for all his bug finds, they were happy he was learning how to organise and structure at just six years old, but when he only did those things regarding bugs…

Tim had his first panic attack when he watched his father pick up his terrarium filled with Diapheromera Femorata (Stick bugs) and chucked it into the bin. The glass shattered as the corner his something hard and he was forced to watch his bugs struggle to navigate the glass and rubbish, most of them injured.

His mother had gagged when she saw them and demanded the whole bin be burnt with the bugs still inside.

Tim had been so heart broken, but mostly confused. His parents traveled the world to dig up dirt and old items that were mostly the same yet they didn’t like bugs?

When he asked one his Nanny’s she gave him an answer that he would never forget, “Well, you see… only those people like bugs, y’know? The… special ones, like re-“

Tim never even let himself think of the last word she spoke and from then only forced himself to only focus on his computer work. He still loved photography but now he took photos of skylines and trees, not the beautiful beehive a few yards behind his house or the spider webs that sat between branches like art works. He took photos of Batman and Robin and for a long time that was enough to make his longing bearable.

If he still followed several pages and articles about bugs either a secret email account, that didn’t matter.

His parents were happy with him even if they still made remarks about his ‘stupid little fixation’.

It’s when they are going over the paper work for Bruce to be Tim’s legal guardian while they weren’t home with Tim’s older brothers hanging around as moral support (bodyguards) that his parents mock him.

Janet is signing some paper with a stupidly expensive pen and chatting to no one in particular when she says, “You’re all lucky we killed this nasty little bugs of his so you don’t have to deal with them.”

Everyone else in the room freezes, beside Jack who huffs a laugh and adds, “Good thing we did, he’d probably be more of a retard otherwise- talking about ‘habitats’ and bloody spiders.”

All of the members of the Wayne family are dead quiet as Tim sits there with a clear look of disassociation coming into his eyes. Alfred has a calm look on his face that tells all who know him that he’s furious and Bruce is strikingly similar.

Jason looks ready to attack and Dick isn’t even moving to stop his brother or calm anyone down.

Damian is holding onto Titus’s collar like a lifeline but seems to give the hound some kind of silent order as the usually calm dog begins to growl low and dangerous.

Jack and Janet tense and stare at both dog and master, Jack ordering him to control his dog.

Bruce stands, letting Titus growl and taking the half signed papers and throwing them in the bin, “I changed my mind, I will be taking you to court for full custody of my son. Leave my house now so I may obtain a restraining order.”

Janet genuinely flounders for a moment and begins to shout about outrage and audacity but when Dick sees that Tim is starting to cry he stands up and reminds them that he is a cop before moving to pick up his second youngest brother and leaving the room.

Tim doesn’t hear much else, only muffled shouting and the sound of a door slamming.

He distantly realises he’s in the family room, not the one they use to have guest but the real one with beanbags and a snack draw, and is being cradled by his brothers. Even Damian is beside him, holding onto his hand tightly as they wait for Bruce and Alfred.

Tim sobs into Dicks chest for Alamos a whole hour before settling more, Bruce coming into the room and Jason and Dick reluctantly hand him over to he can be held by their father.

“Tim, chum, it’s alright. We’ve got you.”

The boy in question shakes his head, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t talk about the bugs I promise-“

Bruce squeezes him tighter and kisses his head, “I don’t want that. What I want is to hear about your bugs.”

Stunned, Tim looks up at him with confusion and barely gets his mouth to move enough to ask what he means.

Dick coos from beside him on the next couch and runs a hand through his hair lovingly, “My sweet baby brother we love you, and you love bugs! So of course we want to hear about it. I’m so sorry we didn’t know how they had been treating you but it was wrong. There’s nothing wrong with you, I swear it.”

Tim sniffled, nodding absentmindedly. They gave him a moment for their words to sink in before Damian spoke up, “Timothy, I demand you tell me about your bugs.”

Jason makes a noise and elbows Damian as if to tell him to shut up, probably thinking the other was being rude, but Tim knows his brother well and just smiles. “I can do that, Dami. I… I don’t think you’ll be very interested though.”

Damian scoffs, “I will ignore that statement as it implies I would waste my time with something I don’t care for.”

Bruce smiles at his youngest and holds Tim’s hand, “I agree. Could you maybe tell us about why you like them? Or your favourites?”

It takes him a moment to respond, but when he looks at all their open expressions and gets an encouraging nod from Alfred, he stutters out a response before gradually gaining confidence as they ask genuine questions to his facts and descriptions.

They each make an effort to ask him about bugs, Jason asking a few times if he wants to check out some books that he knows use bugs as symbolism’s and Dick asking if he can tell him the difference between insects and arachnids several times. Damian and Bruce are both a bit more subtle with their support at first, but after a month Tim enters his room to find a giant terrarium with several different sections so he can have multiple bugs that might not get along with each other.

Bruce and Alfred don’t even make any comments or give disapproving looks when Dick and Jason reveal they each got a tattoo of the bug that Tim said he associates with them.

[pinkgy]

idk if u take requests but is it possible for u to write whb x reader that often wears revealing clothes? if u dont take requests then u can ignore this 💗 hope u have a good day!!

Hi ! Thank u so much for requesting !!

Sorry if it's too short :( Since it lacks a scenario I don't have much to write about this, so it ended up this way, also I read your other ask where you said something about this post being with a Fem Reader a bit late ... Like 5 minutes ago by the time I'm writing this, but I tried fixing it a little, sorry about that too.

Since you didn't ask for any specific characters for this post I took some creative liberties and did the kings and added 2 little bonuses with two of my fave nobles ;)

"𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦 𝗢𝗡 𝗬𝗢𝗨"

𝗖𝗪: Kinda suggestive (Asmo's fault), tried my best to not make them red flags, bare with me, Fem Reader coded but only in some parts, Kings being kinda possessive, wear whatever you want queen don't let any man disrespect your style.

𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗔𝗡

He won't complain, but you can see in his face that he's not thaaat into your fashion choices.

It's not that you look bad, the opposite, you look too good, way too good actually, but he knows other devils that have two eyes and functioning brains think the same, and that's what infuriates him.

Satan trusts you and knows that your eyes and your heart are placed on him and only him, but still, other devils lusting over you is something that gets on his nerves to the point where he wishes he had thousands of legs to kick all of them.

But since that's impossible and he wouldn't dare to vocally manifest his disagreement, then you'll have to settle for reassuring him constantly that he has nothing to worry about, until your words eventually get to his head and he makes a switch in his mindset.

He'll leave you to do as you please, and in case anyone dares to give you any nasty looks, he has two fists and very strong legs to beat up anyone who dares to disrespect you.

𝗠𝗔𝗠𝗠𝗢𝗡

Doesn't give a fuck, it's your body at the end of the day, you are even free to walk around naked if you want to.

He buys you tons clothes, and if you don't like them he'll give you his card so you can buy them yourself, he's your biggest supporter, and he'll even get you your personal seamstress so you can get the best quality and original clothes that suit your style and your likes perfectly.

Mammon doesn't get bothered by others staring at you, they're his too so why should he care? Their greed to have you fuels him, but knowing that he's the one that owns you and that gets to be as greedy as he wants with you gets him going like nothing else.

He might get worried that you may catch a cold by wearing your preferred style during low temperatures, but Tartaros is a country with outstanding technological advances, he'll find a way to make you heated clothes or anything else so you can still wear what makes you comfortable without getting sick.

Or he could just share his natural body heat with you by carrying you everywhere in his arms, you choose ;)

𝗕𝗘𝗘𝗟𝗭𝗘𝗕𝗨𝗕

Loves everything about you, EVERYTHING, there's no reason why your clothing decisions should be any of his business, and he probably wouldn't even notice, until he does and just tells you how hot you look.

Beelzebub might not notice what you're wearing, but he does notice others looking at you (sometimes), but he couldn't care less until the looks turn into something else, that's when he bothers, but it's nothing that his flies can't solve.

Since a big part of his fashion choices lean towards the more revealing side, he would let you borrow some of his clothes, but make sure to return them unwashed tho, though Beelzebub insisted that if they didn't fit you you could get them fixed by a seamstress, but they wouldn't fit him anymore so why does he want them back?

Beelzebub thinks it's an amazing deal, you get to have his clothes that fit your style perfectly, and in exchange, he gets to have them back but drenched in your scent, what a great businessman he is.

He also likes to get you both matching clothes, take it as one of his love languages, he might forget about a lot of things, but he'll NEVER forget to get you something cute that he thinks you'll love on one of his trips.

𝗟𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗔𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗡

You would have to give him some time.

He tries, he really tries, you would have to explain to him a thousand times that you dress the way you prefer because you want and not because of others until he finally understands that he doesn't have to hang every devil that steals a glance at you.

Eventually Leviathan will begrudgingly understand, if 100 devils stare at you, he won't hang all of them, maybe 20 if he's in a good mood.

He'll also stop telling you to take off your clothes or to cover up, and he'll just give you dirty looks and shut up, be patient okay? Be grateful he's trying.

Eventually (And after reassuring him for god knows how long) Leviathan will realize that at the end of the day, you're his, and no one will take that title away from you, and the ones who should be feeling jealous are them and not him, so he'll just let them envy you both, he's still gonna hang those who's stare lingers at you for too long tho, you don't have a say in that, good luck.

𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗣𝗛𝗘𝗚𝗢𝗥

If that's what you like, go on, he pays no mind to such a thing, that's your body and he has no right to complain about it, and even if he did, that's too much of a hassle anyways.

It's not like he goes outside that much to notice others lusting at you, but he knows, it's just that he's too lazy to do something about it, he trusts you tho so he knows that he has nothing to worry about because, in the end, he knows you would rather cuddle for hours with him that pay attention to some lowly devil.

If your normal body temperature tends to lean towards the warmer side Belphegor won't leave you alone, because more skin showing= More skin to lay on to sleep.

He'll have Beleth buy you some clothes that maybe are too revealing to wear outside so you can model them to him in private, Belphegor may get a bit annoyed at first because Beleth seems to know your style too well, but that feeling goes away once he sees you, thank god Beleth knows you so well.

Bonus points if you manage to get your hands on a very bold cosplay of one of his favorite characters of an anime or Hentai and wear it around him, you'll have the king of sloth wrapped around your finder as you step into his room.

𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗥

Way more into it than what you would expect, it's your body and there's no reason to hide it, God created humans to not be ashamed of themselves, and Lucifer was proud that you were following his word.

Lucifer enjoys staring at you from a considerable distance as others stare at you and your revealed skin, maybe he does that just to feed his pride, poor lowly devils as they look at something they will never get to have, something that only he owns.

Contrary to others, Lucifer will give you his honest opinion if you ask for it, he would enjoy dressing you up in cute clothes, and he'll even get you some himself and feel like the proudest demon in hell when you wear them.

Just because he enjoys the boost of pride that others staring at you gives him doesn't mean he won't get possessive towards you, there's a limit to everything, and there's a difference between just staring and giving lusty looks and touching (or trying to touch) he draws the line there and those devils will face ruthless consequences.

His main worry is that you may catch a cold if you wear such revealing clothes in cold weather, that's the only time when he'll encourage you to cover yourself, and maybe he'll even try to force you to do it if you refuse, but he's worried okay? There's no ill intentions behind that.

𝗔𝗦𝗠𝗢𝗗𝗘𝗨𝗦

You could wear a sack of potatoes and he would still get turned on.

Lust is like fuel to him, so he doesn't mind others staring at you, that would just turn him on more, and to think that they can't have you because all of your lusty self is reserved for him and only him? Damn, he must stop thinking about that or he'll get hard.

If you were thinking that Asmodeus would behave normally around you when you have such "pleasing to the eye" clothing preferences you are terribly wrong, and covering yourself more won't make it any better, the damage was already done once his eyes landed on you

Also, more revealing clothes>more skin showing>less clothing>easier to take off.

We all know that he would rather have you naked, but since you may be against that then this works too.

𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦

𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗦

Foras wouldn't take his eyes off you, ever, but he's a bit too shy to stare at you, so he often turns invisible so he can look at you all he wants without getting embarrassed.

He would LOVE to go shopping with you, if what you want is a partner who gives you a critical opinion about what you try on then Foras isn't for you because he would just tell you how beautiful everything looks on you and say that you look stunning in every singly synonym of that word that exists.

𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗜𝗚𝗜𝗡

It would take some time until Gamigin is finally used to your clothing preferences, in fact, he won't get fully used to it ever, but seeing you happy with your body makes him happy too, so he doesn't care.

Loves it when you model your outfits to him as he sits on your bed staring at you completely lovestruck, eventually he won't even pay attention to what you're wearing, and his gaze is only focused on you.

[innorality]

helping tony stark blow off some steam ...

cw : french kissing, handjob, blowjob, reader is a swallower, kinda ooc/submissive/really lost in the pleasure tony, reader is a teaseee

a/n : suddenly got back into marvel even thought im team dc and turns out I reeeeaaally have a thing for billionaire playboys (looking at you, bruce wayne)

your marriage with tony stark was fun. of course it was, it's tony effing stark. but you can't deny that on some nights, when he's busy devoting his entire being to his work (which, you respect highly), you're bored.

you've been invited to a gala—nothing too crazy, the usual guests, fake smiles and business deals hidden under backhanded compliments. you still had some time before you had to get ready, and you decided to be a nice wife and make some dinner for your hardworking husband!

you didn't know what he'd want to eat though... bummer.

gliding down the stairs, you took a quickly glance around his workshop through the glass and saw him working his technological magic on some hologram touch screen.

entering the pin code instantly like muscle memory, you entered.

"there she is," he began and you smiled. "tony, sweetie," you walked up to him, setting a hand on his shoulder. "i got invited to a gala this evening—" "yeah?" he said under his breath. "—and I thought I'd make you dinner before going." he smirked without looking up, "how thoughtful."

your hand snaked under his jaw, making him look at you while pressing your fingers against his cheeks. "whatcha wanna eat, nerdy?" he chuckled at the nickname, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a bit harder to make you pout. "I'll eat anything you make me, miss."

you let go of him and he mirrored you, starting to turn back to get back to work but you grabbed his shoulder again, stopping him. "tony, you work day and night, don't you wanna rest a bit?" and just as you said that, a devilish idea popped in your mind like a lightbulb.

"baby, you know I don't have time to-" and you kissed him, uninterested in his excuses to keep overworking himself. your lips smashed together and it was deep, almost animalistic, teeth occasionally clashing. you nibbled on his lower lip and he opened up, letting you initiate a french kiss. your tongue snuck inside his mouth, clashing with his.

you sat down on his lap without breaking the kiss and his hands instantly found their way to your hips, grounding them against him. leaning in, you deepened the kiss, while simultaneously grinding down on him slightly, just enough to rile him up.

finally, he pulled away, looking more disheveled than ever and you could just eat him up. "fuck..." was all he could mutter out before instantly going for your neck and your granted him access, throwing your head back to give him more room. he started kissing it slightly before sucking it directly, marking you up at his. he nibbled slightly on the marks to emphasis them which pulled a low moan out of you.

"baby–baby, wait.." you tapped the back of his head slightly and he pulled away immediately, searching your eyes for any discomfort only to be met with pure, raw lust. you ran your hand down his clothed chest, and set your hand on his growing buldge, rubbing it.

"I wanna make this about you. you work too much, tony.." you cooed, drawing out the syllables of his name. he stayed silent for a moment, before completely melting under your touch. "gosh, I don't deserve you. I really don't." and you booped his nose, "of course you do."

you quickly pulled his cock out of his pants, stroking it slowly while keeping direct eye contact with the man and he's positive he's about to die.

your soft, warm hand glided up and down his length, the movement swift thanks to the amount of pre he was letting ooze out. "oh, yeah, that's the stuff." his hand snaked in your hair to ground himself, grabbing without pulling. his abs clenched and his thighs kept shifting beneath you, his breath hitching.

you kept an even pace, biting your lip as if to conceal the nasty words that were aching to fly out of your mouth, in vain. "look at you, tony.." you began and he's already weak. "you work, and work, and work..." you rubbed his tip with your thumb lightly and he threw his head back, a loud groan echoing out of him. "it's like you never relax, honey." you give his exposed neck a quick peck, "let me take care of you, tony."

"fuck–yeah, you do that." he huffed out, making you giggle slightly. just when it started to get really good, you unwrapped your hand and got off his lap, alerting him. he picked his head back up to look at you, confusion and frustration filling his eyes. but then, and he's thanking the heavens for it, you start to lower yourself, now looking up at him while on your knees before him.

you grabbed his base and he shivered, closing his eyes—he was bracing himself. you scooted a bit closer, kissing his tip and his hips twitched. another loud groan that came straight from his chest. "I really think I'm gonna marry you, sweetheart." he affirms and you laugh, his balls tightening at the sound. "tony, baby," you ran your tongue up his dick, "we're already married." and his cock twitched at that, before finally being welcomed by the warmth of your mouth.

you lower your head down his length, nose bumping against his pelvis. finally, he let's out a moan, and you perk up at the sound. "shit– shitshitshit-" when you start bobbing your head up and down, it's game over for the poor man.

you've done this hundreds of times to him, but everytime you do, it feels like the first time. your tongue swirled around him like a cobra fetching its prey. you hollowed your cheeks with expertise, constricting the wet walls of your throat around his head. that made him set his hand in your hair again.

he didn't control the pace, his head just followed the movement on your hand, his other one running through his own hair.

his moans started going crescendo, getting louder and louder than the last. closing your eyes, you went for his balls, massaging them softly which has him hissing. "shit, honey, if you keep doing that I might- ill– I'm about to—" and that's about the only warning you get before you feel hot ropes of cum jump down your throat. you pulled away slowly to feel his release on your tongue, aching for the taste of it.

you got off him with a pop! sound, sticking your tongue out as he grabbed your cheeks to inspect your mouth. "good girl, swallowed it all." he heaved out, making a cheeky smile appear on your face.

you got up, rubbing your lips to get the leftover saliva off of them. "I'm gonna go make dinner, okay?" and he didn't even have the strength to reply, his chest going up and down intensely—he was still getting over his orgasm.

he was definitely going to let you help him relax more often.

[are-we-art-yet]

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

What is AWAY and how does it work?

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

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

Environmental Impact in Context

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Creative Tools and Environmental Impact

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Intellectual Property Considerations

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

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

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

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

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

In Conclusion

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

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

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

Works Cited:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[matcha-flavored-cake]

collegeboy!xiao hcs

‧₊˚໑ xiao x fem reader, smut, mentions of pussy (run), mentions of sex as a prize, dumbification if you squint?

‧₊˚໑ college boy xiao is so hot I wish boys went to college

There was that one boy in your class, his name was Xiao

He was rarely seen in class, but somehow he always managed to pass his subjects and get high marks on his exams.

You on the other hand needed help urgently, or you would fail in this damn tech subject. Technology was never your big strenght anyway but you needed help and your teacher of course recommended that you take classes with the best student in the class: Xiao

The problem was that he barely showed up to classes, and even if the teacher asked him to help you, it looked like he was avoiding you on purpose, that fucker

So you had to chase him all over the fucking campus to his dorm

And it was exactly what he wanted

Xiao was far from the nerd cliché you thought you would find. And for a moment you thought you’ve mistaken the dorm number but nope here he is. All pretty in black with piercings and a black and aqua green hair

Knowing you needed him, he wasn’t going to pass the opportunity to hear yours “please Xiao, i really need your help” with oh so much desperation and pouty lips, it made his cock twitch in his pants.

But Xiao was so so nice, of course he would help you! right?

With a look of forced disinterest he agreed to help you, making you feel relieved and grateful, promising to give him anything he wanted.

That's how you started taking classes with Xiao

He always had light reddish makeup around the corners of his eyes. And you always felt his gaze upon you, wondering if you had understood the confusing sequence of codes he had taught you.

Xiao had a curious habit of scheduling study sessions at unholy hours of the night, saying that was when he had the most time. Little did you know he liked the idea of having you in his room at that time of night with the small amount of light he let into the room.

Despite being sharp on the ends, Xiao always seemed to be patient, explaining the same thing as many times as needed, although he did give you light punishments like extra homework (which made you stay in his dorm for longer time)

He was always close to you in some way, he had managed to clean a part of his big pc desk so you could study while he was doing freelance work or doing college assignments. His hand always resting on your thigh as he sighed to take a few breaks and throw his neck back, his adam's apple, going up and down when chugging some energy drink making you feel a sudden heat and go back to solving exercises before he noticed you were looking

When Xiao gave you tutoring outside his dorm (which was rare) he always wore comfortable and big clothes with long sleeves which made you think he was always ready to sleep anywhere, when in fact he wore baggy clothes so you wouldn't notice how hard he was in his pants seeing you in the shortest skirts known to mankind

You always liked the way Xiao spoke, his low but confident voice when he explained something to you, and the way he smiled when you got the answers right, saying he would give you a prize for it. His lip piercings make you want to kiss him and god know how much times you've imagined his tongue piercing rubbing on your clit

His nails were always painted, usually black and decorated with thick rings that adorned the thin, stupidly long fingers he used to type and play so quickly. You always watched closely when he gripped his desk when the big words of “defeat” appeared on his pc screen. Oh how you wanted his grip on your thighs

He always took you back to your dorm, saying it would be dangerous for you to go out alone.

As you grew closer, study nights turned into game nights. He had a habit of coming up behind you to teach you how to play, talking close to your ear which keys you had to press to use the character's ultimate on screen.

Xiao started attending classes a little more, always sitting next to you. His hand resting on your thighs, sometimes ghosting next to your crotch

You were so cute, dropping your defenses low like that. And so dumb for not logging out of his computer, I mean he thought about hacking your pc a bunch of times yes, but he is a gentleman he wouldn’t do that. But now that you just offered your info on a silver plate for him... oh well.

Imagine the surprise on his face when he took a look at your search history and finding porn there

“Seems like our perfect student has some dirty secrets huh?” he mumbled

Such a dumb girl not even using the icognito mode

He spend a good bit of the night looking at your preferences tho, a ghost of a smile on his face when he saw how many times the words ‘gamer boy’, ‘emo’ and ‘nerd’ appeared on the adult site

Oh well if you had such a wish who was he to not comply? After all he agreed to teach you for your test didn’t he? What a tutor would he be if he didn’t show you how good he can actually fuck you?

You did say you would give anything he wanted if he helped you anyway. And your pussy would be the perfect prize.

@matcha-flavored-cake © • DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST

[mostlysignssomeportents]

“Humans in the loop” must detect the hardest-to-spot errors, at superhuman speed

I'm touring my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me SATURDAY (Apr 27) in MARIN COUNTY, then Winnipeg (May 2), Calgary (May 3), Vancouver (May 4), and beyond!

If AI has a future (a big if), it will have to be economically viable. An industry can't spend 1,700% more on Nvidia chips than it earns indefinitely – not even with Nvidia being a principle investor in its largest customers:

https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=39883571

A company that pays 0.36-1 cents/query for electricity and (scarce, fresh) water can't indefinitely give those queries away by the millions to people who are expected to revise those queries dozens of times before eliciting the perfect botshit rendition of "instructions for removing a grilled cheese sandwich from a VCR in the style of the King James Bible":

https://www.semianalysis.com/p/the-inference-cost-of-search-disruption

Eventually, the industry will have to uncover some mix of applications that will cover its operating costs, if only to keep the lights on in the face of investor disillusionment (this isn't optional – investor disillusionment is an inevitable part of every bubble).

Now, there are lots of low-stakes applications for AI that can run just fine on the current AI technology, despite its many – and seemingly inescapable - errors ("hallucinations"). People who use AI to generate illustrations of their D&D characters engaged in epic adventures from their previous gaming session don't care about the odd extra finger. If the chatbot powering a tourist's automatic text-to-translation-to-speech phone tool gets a few words wrong, it's still much better than the alternative of speaking slowly and loudly in your own language while making emphatic hand-gestures.

There are lots of these applications, and many of the people who benefit from them would doubtless pay something for them. The problem – from an AI company's perspective – is that these aren't just low-stakes, they're also low-value. Their users would pay something for them, but not very much.

For AI to keep its servers on through the coming trough of disillusionment, it will have to locate high-value applications, too. Economically speaking, the function of low-value applications is to soak up excess capacity and produce value at the margins after the high-value applications pay the bills. Low-value applications are a side-dish, like the coach seats on an airplane whose total operating expenses are paid by the business class passengers up front. Without the principle income from high-value applications, the servers shut down, and the low-value applications disappear:

https://locusmag.com/2023/12/commentary-cory-doctorow-what-kind-of-bubble-is-ai/

Now, there are lots of high-value applications the AI industry has identified for its products. Broadly speaking, these high-value applications share the same problem: they are all high-stakes, which means they are very sensitive to errors. Mistakes made by apps that produce code, drive cars, or identify cancerous masses on chest X-rays are extremely consequential.

Some businesses may be insensitive to those consequences. Air Canada replaced its human customer service staff with chatbots that just lied to passengers, stealing hundreds of dollars from them in the process. But the process for getting your money back after you are defrauded by Air Canada's chatbot is so onerous that only one passenger has bothered to go through it, spending ten weeks exhausting all of Air Canada's internal review mechanisms before fighting his case for weeks more at the regulator:

https://bc.ctvnews.ca/air-canada-s-chatbot-gave-a-b-c-man-the-wrong-information-now-the-airline-has-to-pay-for-the-mistake-1.6769454

There's never just one ant. If this guy was defrauded by an AC chatbot, so were hundreds or thousands of other fliers. Air Canada doesn't have to pay them back. Air Canada is tacitly asserting that, as the country's flagship carrier and near-monopolist, it is too big to fail and too big to jail, which means it's too big to care.

Air Canada shows that for some business customers, AI doesn't need to be able to do a worker's job in order to be a smart purchase: a chatbot can replace a worker, fail to their worker's job, and still save the company money on balance.

I can't predict whether the world's sociopathic monopolists are numerous and powerful enough to keep the lights on for AI companies through leases for automation systems that let them commit consequence-free free fraud by replacing workers with chatbots that serve as moral crumple-zones for furious customers:

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/abs/pii/S0747563219304029

But even stipulating that this is sufficient, it's intrinsically unstable. Anything that can't go on forever eventually stops, and the mass replacement of humans with high-speed fraud software seems likely to stoke the already blazing furnace of modern antitrust:

https://www.eff.org/de/deeplinks/2021/08/party-its-1979-og-antitrust-back-baby

Of course, the AI companies have their own answer to this conundrum. A high-stakes/high-value customer can still fire workers and replace them with AI – they just need to hire fewer, cheaper workers to supervise the AI and monitor it for "hallucinations." This is called the "human in the loop" solution.

The human in the loop story has some glaring holes. From a worker's perspective, serving as the human in the loop in a scheme that cuts wage bills through AI is a nightmare – the worst possible kind of automation.

Let's pause for a little detour through automation theory here. Automation can augment a worker. We can call this a "centaur" – the worker offloads a repetitive task, or one that requires a high degree of vigilance, or (worst of all) both. They're a human head on a robot body (hence "centaur"). Think of the sensor/vision system in your car that beeps if you activate your turn-signal while a car is in your blind spot. You're in charge, but you're getting a second opinion from the robot.

Likewise, consider an AI tool that double-checks a radiologist's diagnosis of your chest X-ray and suggests a second look when its assessment doesn't match the radiologist's. Again, the human is in charge, but the robot is serving as a backstop and helpmeet, using its inexhaustible robotic vigilance to augment human skill.

That's centaurs. They're the good automation. Then there's the bad automation: the reverse-centaur, when the human is used to augment the robot.

Amazon warehouse pickers stand in one place while robotic shelving units trundle up to them at speed; then, the haptic bracelets shackled around their wrists buzz at them, directing them pick up specific items and move them to a basket, while a third automation system penalizes them for taking toilet breaks or even just walking around and shaking out their limbs to avoid a repetitive strain injury. This is a robotic head using a human body – and destroying it in the process.

An AI-assisted radiologist processes fewer chest X-rays every day, costing their employer more, on top of the cost of the AI. That's not what AI companies are selling. They're offering hospitals the power to create reverse centaurs: radiologist-assisted AIs. That's what "human in the loop" means.

This is a problem for workers, but it's also a problem for their bosses (assuming those bosses actually care about correcting AI hallucinations, rather than providing a figleaf that lets them commit fraud or kill people and shift the blame to an unpunishable AI).

Humans are good at a lot of things, but they're not good at eternal, perfect vigilance. Writing code is hard, but performing code-review (where you check someone else's code for errors) is much harder – and it gets even harder if the code you're reviewing is usually fine, because this requires that you maintain your vigilance for something that only occurs at rare and unpredictable intervals:

https://twitter.com/qntm/status/1773779967521780169

But for a coding shop to make the cost of an AI pencil out, the human in the loop needs to be able to process a lot of AI-generated code. Replacing a human with an AI doesn't produce any savings if you need to hire two more humans to take turns doing close reads of the AI's code.

This is the fatal flaw in robo-taxi schemes. The "human in the loop" who is supposed to keep the murderbot from smashing into other cars, steering into oncoming traffic, or running down pedestrians isn't a driver, they're a driving instructor. This is a much harder job than being a driver, even when the student driver you're monitoring is a human, making human mistakes at human speed. It's even harder when the student driver is a robot, making errors at computer speed:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/01/human-in-the-loop/#monkey-in-the-middle

This is why the doomed robo-taxi company Cruise had to deploy 1.5 skilled, high-paid human monitors to oversee each of its murderbots, while traditional taxis operate at a fraction of the cost with a single, precaratized, low-paid human driver:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/11/robots-stole-my-jerb/#computer-says-no

The vigilance problem is pretty fatal for the human-in-the-loop gambit, but there's another problem that is, if anything, even more fatal: the kinds of errors that AIs make.

Foundationally, AI is applied statistics. An AI company trains its AI by feeding it a lot of data about the real world. The program processes this data, looking for statistical correlations in that data, and makes a model of the world based on those correlations. A chatbot is a next-word-guessing program, and an AI "art" generator is a next-pixel-guessing program. They're drawing on billions of documents to find the most statistically likely way of finishing a sentence or a line of pixels in a bitmap:

https://dl.acm.org/doi/10.1145/3442188.3445922

This means that AI doesn't just make errors – it makes subtle errors, the kinds of errors that are the hardest for a human in the loop to spot, because they are the most statistically probable ways of being wrong. Sure, we notice the gross errors in AI output, like confidently claiming that a living human is dead:

https://www.tomsguide.com/opinion/according-to-chatgpt-im-dead

But the most common errors that AIs make are the ones we don't notice, because they're perfectly camouflaged as the truth. Think of the recurring AI programming error that inserts a call to a nonexistent library called "huggingface-cli," which is what the library would be called if developers reliably followed naming conventions. But due to a human inconsistency, the real library has a slightly different name. The fact that AIs repeatedly inserted references to the nonexistent library opened up a vulnerability – a security researcher created a (inert) malicious library with that name and tricked numerous companies into compiling it into their code because their human reviewers missed the chatbot's (statistically indistinguishable from the the truth) lie:

https://www.theregister.com/2024/03/28/ai_bots_hallucinate_software_packages/

For a driving instructor or a code reviewer overseeing a human subject, the majority of errors are comparatively easy to spot, because they're the kinds of errors that lead to inconsistent library naming – places where a human behaved erratically or irregularly. But when reality is irregular or erratic, the AI will make errors by presuming that things are statistically normal.

These are the hardest kinds of errors to spot. They couldn't be harder for a human to detect if they were specifically designed to go undetected. The human in the loop isn't just being asked to spot mistakes – they're being actively deceived. The AI isn't merely wrong, it's constructing a subtle "what's wrong with this picture"-style puzzle. Not just one such puzzle, either: millions of them, at speed, which must be solved by the human in the loop, who must remain perfectly vigilant for things that are, by definition, almost totally unnoticeable.

This is a special new torment for reverse centaurs – and a significant problem for AI companies hoping to accumulate and keep enough high-value, high-stakes customers on their books to weather the coming trough of disillusionment.

This is pretty grim, but it gets grimmer. AI companies have argued that they have a third line of business, a way to make money for their customers beyond automation's gifts to their payrolls: they claim that they can perform difficult scientific tasks at superhuman speed, producing billion-dollar insights (new materials, new drugs, new proteins) at unimaginable speed.

However, these claims – credulously amplified by the non-technical press – keep on shattering when they are tested by experts who understand the esoteric domains in which AI is said to have an unbeatable advantage. For example, Google claimed that its Deepmind AI had discovered "millions of new materials," "equivalent to nearly 800 years’ worth of knowledge," constituting "an order-of-magnitude expansion in stable materials known to humanity":

https://deepmind.google/discover/blog/millions-of-new-materials-discovered-with-deep-learning/

It was a hoax. When independent material scientists reviewed representative samples of these "new materials," they concluded that "no new materials have been discovered" and that not one of these materials was "credible, useful and novel":

https://www.404media.co/google-says-it-discovered-millions-of-new-materials-with-ai-human-researchers/

As Brian Merchant writes, AI claims are eerily similar to "smoke and mirrors" – the dazzling reality-distortion field thrown up by 17th century magic lantern technology, which millions of people ascribed wild capabilities to, thanks to the outlandish claims of the technology's promoters:

https://www.bloodinthemachine.com/p/ai-really-is-smoke-and-mirrors

The fact that we have a four-hundred-year-old name for this phenomenon, and yet we're still falling prey to it is frankly a little depressing. And, unlucky for us, it turns out that AI therapybots can't help us with this – rather, they're apt to literally convince us to kill ourselves:

https://www.vice.com/en/article/pkadgm/man-dies-by-suicide-after-talking-with-ai-chatbot-widow-says

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/23/maximal-plausibility/#reverse-centaurs

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x dc AU: Danny as the ghost king has an expanded reach for powers he’s just now learning he has. Turns out it’s just super easy for him to summon people… uh, so easy he can do it in his sleep?

Danny is an exhausted kid and clockwork making him take a whole class in the methodology and practice of summoning as a Ghost King prep course is really not what he needed. But just like every power Danny hones, he gets good at it, like, really quickly. And it’s not long before he’s able to call forward his entire court and Clockwork himself with little more focus than saying their names with intention.

Danny is getting ready for school and chatting with Jazz over FaceTime (her first college classes were all super early and he got very narrow windows to talk with her before school)- when he complains a little too seriously about Boxy.

And then low and behold, Boxy confused to be out of the thermos, appears before danny. Which… cool he could summon out of the thermos, thats a fun technology thing he needs to work on but uh… oh no. He didn’t mean to do that and now he has to hang up with Jazz, capture Boxy who is having too much fun making fun of Danny and still try to make it to class on time.

The next accidental summon isnt accidental so much as experimental- and it doesn’t work when Danny is in his human form- but apparently he can call humans through as well. Him, Sam and Tucker played the worlds worst game of hide and seek just to test it and sure enough it works. They both come through, saying there was a head rush like you might get on a rollercoaster and a full body sensation of cold creeping fingertips.

So Danny gets really, really careful about using names in battle. Code names and trying to call his rogues by nicknames helps- but Danny is in a particularly annoying battle with some pariah zealots when he says:

“I mean who do you think I am? Fucking Batman? Get out of here with your world ending villain shit-“

And before he’s done bad mouthing the horde… a Very confused and very angry Batman appears on the battlefield. Uh… oh okay he’s helping danny never mind maybe this isn’t the worst day ever.

The following interrogations should have been expected by Danny. Also the request to be sent home, which uh, danny doesn’t know how to do yet.

[anemhoez]

Otherworldly…

Boothill/AFAB Reader

tags: @bokukenmakuroo

WARNINGS: unprotected sex I GUESS?? he doesn’t ejaculate and its made of fine grade silicone sooo????

A/N: in where Boothill gets a check-up 🤭 ok ok so the recent quest let us know more about him and this has been in the drafts for a while so there will be inaccuracies hehe and alot left to my imagination, yes im a robot fucker HEHE! also please imagine my man with the prettiest most perfect robot dick you’ve ever seen, lord i just know its big…oh also im not a robotics or programming expert but they’re in space and stuff im sure tech like this exists in their world SOMEHOW loll

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

“Hold still, it should only take a few seconds.” you said to Boothill as he fidgeted under your touch. “I’m ticklish doc,” he said with a sharp toothed smile as you replaced one of the many sensory devices on the metal skin at his shoulder.

“The famous interstellar galaxy ranger being subdued by a bit of tickling? Don’t let your enemies find out.” Once finished, you reattached the cover and made sure it was flush with the other metal parts of his body. He truly was a technological marvel, sleek and efficient with not one line of code or piece of hardware going to waste. You considered yourself lucky to be his technician, a job offer you were pleasantly surprised by.

“You think I’ve got enemies?” he asked with sincerity, not believing that there were people out there who actually didn’t like him, or even targeted him. “I’ve seen the reports Boot.” you quickly pulled up a program on the screen in front of you to begin configuring the new sensor.

“Thats all…alternative facts, darlin.” you simply rolled your eyes and input some commands, ignoring his silly statement. “You say your synesthesia beacon was hacked?” you asked for reassurance, not once looking away from the screen and you heard as he sucked his teeth behind you.

“It sure forkin’ was, you think you can fix it?” You knew you were a great technician, fantastic even. But taking down an IPC virus? That was something you’d need a few days to crack. “I can try,” you cocked your head to the side, your statement causing him to jump up off the examination table in excitement.

“But aside from that and the sensor malfunction, is there anything else you need looking at?” you asked as you typed quickly. “You might as well get everything looked at before you head back out.” He stayed quiet though, not answering your question but instead turning away from you.

“Boothill?” you asked turning to him, realizing he was awfully quiet for someone who just jumped up for joy. He rubbed the back of his neck, “We have, doctor and patient confidentiality right?” he asked in a low gravely voice, as if someone would be able to hear him outside of your workshop.

“Dammit boothill! I’m a mechanic not a doctor!” you exclaimed absolutely sick of him calling you by a title you didn’t have credentials for. “So no we don’t but,” you stood up and walked over to him, turning his body around in a circle looking him over to see if it was something visible on him you could fix right away. “I’m not going to go around and talk about it if that’s what you mean.”

You placed a hand on your hip, “I may not look it cause I’m usually covered in grease and keep my workshop a mess, but I do consider myself a professional you know.” he sighed and looked at you, “Of course you are! You’re one of the best machinists I’ve ever had, it’s just. Aw fudge how do I even say this?!”

He resigned himself to feeling foolish for the worries he had. “I’m uh, having trouble with…intimacy.” he finally said, meeting your eyes. “Well, I’m also not a match maker so…” you looked at him with an eyebrow raised. He sighed and held his head in his hands, “Finding a partner isn’t the issue, it’s when I’m with someone. I can’t really feel it, you understand?”

You tried to picture it in your mind. Could cyborgs even achieve an orgasm? And even if they could, could they ejaculate? The scholar in you was fascinated, but the friend and professional in you was ready to help in any way you could.

You grabbed a tool from your bench quickly and headed back towards him. “Drop ‘em.” you said matter of factly pointing to his pants and he clutched his groin in reaction to you. “You fudgin’ joking? Wait, come on now-“ he stuttered through his words as a blush formed on his face. “Boot, do you want me to help you or not?” you crossed your arms, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before, you can trust me.”

He had never had someone besides the technician who affixed his broken body to metal even look down there. He hesitated but given just how important this was to him, he sighed and dropped his trousers after undoing his belt. His cock was…to say the least…impressive. It even bobbed and twitched in a way similar to that of a person made of flesh and bone. Upon seeing it through the eyes of a machinist however, you started to notice just how intricately crafted it was.

“Aeons, just what exactly were they thinking with detail like this?” you asked with a small giggle before taking his appendage in your hand and detaching it from his body. “I’m not a love machine, if that’s what you’re insinuating sweetheart.” He explained almost immediately, as if it’s something that needed defending. He shuffled back into his pants, “This iron body of mine was made for combat, and revenge.” You shrugged playfully and raised an eyebrow, “So you didn’t ask them for this cock then?” you joked, holding it in your hand and testing its weight. “Alright, alright just…see what you can do?” He huffed and pulled his hat down over his eyes in embarrassment.

You began disassembling the object, looking for any visible damage. “You keeping it clean and oiled?” you ask and he just sighs, “This is so embarrassing but yes. I perform regular maintenance on myself weekly.”

“Only weekly?” you teased and he rolled his eyes, “Okay okay, I’ll stop.” you reassembled everything and took the device over to your computer, plugging a wire into the hidden port you found

“Let’s see what…oh wow!” you yelped as you examined the device’s programming. “What an interesting piece of tech!” you said with a smile. Now you were the one blushing. “What?” he said and came over to examine the code with you, only seeing an unfamiliar mess of text. “Is it broken?!”

You input a commend into the terminal and the appendage began thrusting on its own. “Quite the opposite actually, did you know it had this many modes?” You typed away and the device now vibrated so violently it rolled off of the desk and onto the floor. “I should’ve guessed what extreme vibration meant.” you picked it up and held it with both hands.

For some reason, seeing you holding it like you were about to jerk it off made him stare. “No I didn’t, but that’s not the issue I’m having. I’m having trouble really feeling, if you catch my drift?” he said and looked away again while coughing awkwardly.

“You mean having an orgasm?” You placed the metallic phallus on the desk with a loud thud. “I can check if you have any software updates, and maybe come up with something of my own.” you turned to him, “If you don’t mind leaving it here with me to tinker with it.” you said with a playful smirk. That was all he needed to hear as he turned to head out, “I’ve never been without it for long so, just be gentle okay?” he said as he headed out. You immediately turned towards him, “Hey! Just what do you think I’m gonna do with it?!”

************

You had stayed up late the past couple of nights, modding the mechanical cock. If your professor had told you all those years ago in university that you’d be working on an interstellar cowboy’s robotic dick, you probably would’ve screamed. But here you were, losing sleep to help a client yet again. You had reviewed so many lines of code that you were even seeing it whenever you closed your eyes.

“Warming mode?” you whispered to yourself and looked over at the cock half expecting it to shoot off into the ceiling, but nothing happened. You reached out and grabbed it, feeling a light warmth to it. “Oh!” you said out loud as you held it with both hands, the warm appendage oddly soothing in your grip. You rubbed the smooth artificial skin, gunmetal gray in color and detailed with thick veins. The smoothness of it was thanks to the layer of silicone skin that felt so much like the real thing it almost scared you. Not to heavy, but not too light either, almost the perfect weight and girth. A devious fleeting thought flashed in your mind, of how it could possibly feel inside of you.

You shook the thoughts from your head immediately and put it down, finally turning off your computer and heading to bed to get the rest you so desperately needed.

************

Boothill arrived a few days later in much better spirits. “Well? How’s my pecker?” he said loudly with his arms out as he walked over to you. You shook your head and grabbed a tool to reattach it to him. “This thing’s a monster.” you said tiredly and helped him with his pants once the device was back on his body. You observed how he adjusted himself in his pants, he was no different from someone with an actual dick in that regard either. Another one of those debaucherous thoughts came to your mind as you looked him up an down. Thats when you realized just how fucking attractive he was.

“Anyway, I adjusted some things so you don’t accidentally kill anyone.” You explained the various functions and modes, telling him the restrictions you put on certain settings so no one would get seriously hurt while fucking him. “Yeah I’d hate to burn someone’s uh, insides.”

“I also wanna see if I can get your beacon working again.” You handed him a wire and he connected it to a port on his neck. You started the download and waited for the hack to work. You looked at the cowboy who was currently smiling at you.

“I can’t thank you enough doc- uh Y/n.,” You smiled back and waved him off, “It was nothing, I’m happy to help.” you started re-organizing your tools as his software updated. “Bet you’re just dying to see if it worked, I don’t mind testing it out right now.” he suggested and took his hat off, placing it on your desk gently. Of course you’d want to know if your tinkering actually worked, but you knew the only way to test it was for him to…well…pleasure himself.

“Sure, you can use the bathroom and test it out. Let me know how it felt, in detail.” you said as a slight heat crept up your body. He looked in the direction of the bathroom, a smile spreading on his lips. “Actually, I was hoping you’d want to test it out, with me?”

His words shot straight to your core, your stomach jumping with sudden anticipation. Your cheeks went flush and you hoped you didn’t look as flustered as you felt. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t that be a little uh, inappropriate?” you put down your tools and turned to look at him. You inched closer and closer, knowing you weren’t about to pass up the offer. After all, it was your duty as a scientist wasn’t it?

He chuckled and started moving closer as well, “What’s so inappropriate about making sure your hard work pays off?” He was but a breath away and reached out to grab your hand and you let him intertwine his fingers with yours, his robotic hand surprisingly gentle. “In all honesty, I thought about it while I was working on…it.” He moaned out loudly, “That’s so fucking hot.” he said, stopping when he realized he finally cursed properly.

“Looks like your beacon is fixed,” you pulled the wire from his neck gently, “Don’t go getting hacked again.” you teased and his hands came to rest on your waist. “You’ll fix me though? Won’t ya?” he leaned in, closing the small gap between you two. You moved to wrap your arms around his neck and mumbled a soft “Yes.” into the kiss as he lifted you up.

He walked the both of you to the workbench that was high enough so that you were perfectly fitted in his embrace. His strong yet gentle hands trailed up your back and under your shirt, his mouth hot on yours as the two of you shared an intense kiss.

You allowed him to pull your shirt off of you, briefly interrupting the kiss. “You’ve got such great control of your mobility module.” you said in praise and he moved in to kiss at the exposed flesh now available to him. His tongue licked a trail along your collar bones to your neck, “Can you, taste? “ He chuckled against your skin as he sucked, parting your legs before pulling away. “Sure can.” he whispered gruffly in your ear before bending down and slotting between your legs.

You hesitated a bit when you saw his sharp teeth, worried about your sensitive skin down there. But as soon as he buried himself into your cunt you threw your head back, letting the pleasure take over and the worries fade.

He moaned, the highly sensitive sensors on his tongue allowing him to fully enjoy your taste. You tugged at his hair, moving it out of his face to get a better look at him. He met your gaze and pulled away, his elongated tongue shrinking down to its regular size impressively.

“And you say you’re not a love machine,” you teased and wrapped your legs around his neck. You wiped at the corner of his mouth and he opened it to suck on your thumb, “Mmh, I can be your love machine,” he said before moving back to work his tongue along your folds. You watched it extend in real time as he dove in deeper inside of you, spreading your legs widers to get his artificial tongue as deep as he could. You felt him so deep inside, an unfamiliar but delicious feeling, making you let out a loud whimper at the intensity of it all.

He snaked his arms around your thighs, pulling you even closer while he pulled up on the skin above your pussy. “Ahh!,” you moaned out and dug your nails into his scalp desperately. The cowboy groaned deeply, lapping up what poured out of you and soon introducing his fingers to fuck you while his mouth sucked hard at your clit.

You could feel yourself coming undone as his nimble fingers curved to find your spot, fingering you hard. You soon cried out as you climaxed, writhing under his touch and clenching down on his fingers as he stood to face you.

You immediately pulled him into a kiss, pulling your bra down to finally expose your breasts to him. His hands came to squeeze the soft flesh and he pulled away, staring at them lovingly as he chuckled. “What’s so funny?” you asked looking at him while you held onto the backs of his mechanical hands as he squeezed. “I’ve just…been wanting to do this for a very, very long time.”

He pulled himself from his pants and began sliding his thick metallic shaft against your wet folds. “Fuck, I can feel how wet you are? I can’t believe it.” You patted yourself on the back mentally for your ingenuity. You moved to take him by the back of his head for another feverish kiss. He held you close, his metal abs and chest surprisingly warm against your skin. The two of you pulled away from each other with a huff after making out for a few minutes.

“You’re a fucking genius.” he praised and held your face in his hands, your face heating up at the compliment. “Thank you,” you breathed deeply and looked down at his cock that was still teasing you, desperately wanting him inside of you. “I’d love to see what else I’ve improved upon,” you said as you laid back down, opening your legs wide for him. Your hands went to your folds where you collected your slick and moved to tease your bud, “And if you’re any better than something I can manufacture on my own.”

You saw a glint in his eyes as he smiled wickedly. He took your hand from your cunt and along with your other hand, he pinned them over your head. He grunted as he finally entered you, his long hair cascading down on either side of his face as he moved in closer to kiss you.

Those thick eight inches of his robotic cock finally plunged into you, deep. You whined, the sensation feeling so familiar to the “real” thing but so much better. He growled and nipped at your bottom lip, all the while pushing in and out of you slowly.

“You curious about the modes? Or do you just want me at default?” he asked as he let go of your hands. “Surprise me.” You pulled him back to your lips and he kissed you roughly before leaning back up and pulling you towards the edge of the bench.

You watched as he lolled his head back, his body fully reacting to being inside of you. “This what I’ve been missing?” he asked rhetorically, as you propped yourself up on your elbows. “How is it?” you asked, wanting to know if your improvements worked. “Amazing, It’s so warm and tight darlin’.” he hissed as he moved his hands to grab your ankles.

“I mean- ahh!” you were cut off by a particularly hard thrust, “What are you feeling?” you asked and kissed him briefly before letting him speak again. “It feels like every one of my sensors is activating at once, an overall good feeling? I don’t really know how to-” You cut him off to kiss him again, running your tongue over his sharp teeth before pulling away. “That’s okay, it seems like the program is working, fuck!” you exclaimed as his dick brushed over that oh so sweet and toe curling spot inside of you. You looked at him with pleading eyes, “You’re fucking me so good Boothill.”

Lost in the moment and moaning against his lips, you suddenly felt his cock getting warmer inside of you. The sensation filling you with new feelings of pleasure you’d never felt before. “Risky but, fuck that feels so good.” Your words caught in your throat as he thrust into you harder. “Got somethin else for ya.” He practically growled as his cock started to vibrate inside of you.

“Oh fuck!” his pistoning inside of you sped up as you came hard, clenching down on him and causing him to moan out loudly. The cry that fell from his lips was desperate, “Fuck how did you-?!” he couldn’t stop himself as he fucked into you faster and harder, “Get tighter?!” the vibrations along with the almost brutal pounding he was giving you brought you over the edge again and this time your juices squirted all over him.

He slowed down and pulled out of you, your essence slick on his shaft and spilling out of you onto the bench. You whimpered as he pumped his fingers into you, your cunt still extremely sensitive. “And you think what I’ve got between my legs is dangerous.” He said with a smile before bringing you to stand on your wobbly legs, re-entering you from behind and meeting your lips as you turned to look back at him.

Boothill gained that sane speed from before within seconds, his cock at default as he chased whatever high he could find. “You doin ok doll?” His voice seemed so sweet and gentle against the lewd and messy sounds of his harsh backshots into you. He then pulled you further onto him by grabbing a fistful of your hair. “Yessshmmmmmuhh, its- hmmssofuckiggood.” You babbled gibberish as your response to him, just scratching at the the cold slab below you. He fucked into you faster and faster, your pussy clenching down on him as you lost yourself in the full body euphoria that overtook you.

Boothill chuckled darkly and pumped into you harder, moaning as his peak neared with every thrust. He let out an almost howl, feeling your tightness around him bringing him over into a sweet, delicious bliss that he could really feel for the first time. “Fuuuck!” he sighed and stuttered against you, leaning over and biting down your neck gently as he “came”.

“Your hard work payed off gorgeous, that was incredible.” He praised as he slowly leaned back and pulled out of you. You turned to him seeing his very satisfied and flushed face, “Incredible is an understatement,” you sighed and reached down to grab your pants, “That was, fucking otherworldly.”

You were about to put your pants back on but he stopped you. “What the hell you doin’ darlin? I’ve only fucked one hole so far,” he looked at you with intense eyes as he moved in closer. “For fuck’s sake Boothill, you’re gonna ruin me for other people!” He smiled that signature pointy smile of his and gave you a kiss on the cheek.“Thats the point.” His voice was alot lower than it usually was, a sultry and sensual tone laced within it.

“Now, on your knees.” You obliged quickly, finally taking off your bra so that you were completely bare before him. You took his cock in your mouth eagerly, looking up at him through your lashes as you took him in fully. You were proud of your work, there was truly no technician out more brilliant and luckier than you in this moment.

Now, if only you could manufacture and program a way to have him ejaculate inside of you…

A/N: i think i blacked out writing this………hes sooooooo…..i will never be normal about him thank you so much hoyo for this rootin tootin hottie 🥴 GODDDDD SAVE A HORSEEEEE!!! 🤧 i also think itd be cute to have other scenarios with him like….him learning how to love someone again and- 😭 idk i just want some angssst and like, a life with him?!?!

[reasonsforhope]

"Clothing tags, travel cards, hotel room key cards, parcel labels … a whole host of components in supply chains of everything from cars to clothes. What do they have in common? RFID tags.  

Every RFID (Radio Frequency Identification) tag contains a microchip and a tiny metal strip of an antenna. A cool 18bn of these are made – and disposed of – each year. And with demands for product traceability increasing, ironically in part because of concerns for the social and environmental health of the supply chain, that’s set to soar. 

And guess where most of these tags end up? Yup, landfill – adding to the burgeoning volumes of e-waste polluting our soils, rivers and skies. It’s a sorry tale, but it’s one in which two young graduates of Imperial College London and Royal College of Art are putting a great big green twist. Under the name of PulpaTronics, Chloe So and Barna Soma Biro reckon they’ve hit on a beguilingly simple sounding solution: make the tags out of paper. No plastic, no chips, no metal strips. Just paper, pure and … simple … ? Well, not quite, as we shall see. 

The apparent simplicity is achieved by some pretty cutting-edge technical innovation, aimed at stripping away both the metal antennae and the chips. If you can get rid of those, as Biro explains, you solve the e-waste problem at a stroke. But getting rid of things isn’t the typical approach to technical solutions, he adds. “I read a paper in Nature that set out how humans have a bias for solving problems through addition – by adding something new, rather than removing complexity, even if that’s the best approach.”   

And adding stuff to a world already stuffed, as it were, can create more problems than it solves. “So that became one of the guiding principles of PulpaTronics”, he says: stripping things down “to the bare minimum, where they are still functional, but have as low an environmental impact as possible”.  

...how did they achieve this magical simplification? The answer lies in lasers: these turn the paper into a conductive material, Biro explains, printing a pattern on the surface that can be ‘read’ by a scanner, rather like a QR code. It sounds like frontier technology, but it works, and PulpaTronics have patents pending to protect it. 

The resulting tag comes in two forms: in one, there is still a microchip, so that it can be read by existing scanners of the sort common within retailers, for example. The more advanced version does away with the chip altogether. This will need a different kind of scanner, currently in development, which PulpaTronics envisages issuing licences for others to manufacture. 

Crucially, the cost of both versions is significantly cheaper than existing RFID kit – making this a highly viable proposition. Then there are the carbon savings: up to 70% for the chipless version – so a no-brainer from a sustainability viewpoint too. All the same, industry interest was slow to start with but when PulpaTronics won a coveted Dezeen magazine award in late 2023, it snowballed, says So. Big brands such as UPS, DHL, Marks & Spencer and Decathlon came calling. “We were just bombarded.” Brands were fascinated by the innovation, she says, but even more by the price point, “because, like any business, they knew that green products can’t come with a premium”."

-via Positive.News, April 29, 2024

--

Note: I know it's still in the very early stages, but this is such a relief to see in the context of the environmental and human rights catastrophes associated with lithium mining and mining for rare earth metals, and the way that EVs and other green infrastructure are massively increasing the demand for those materials.

I'll take a future with paper-based, more humane alternatives for sure! Fingers crossed this keeps developing and develops well (and quickly).

[mariacallous]

It feels like no one should have to say this, and yet we are in a situation where it needs to be said, very loudly and clearly, before it’s too late to do anything about it: The United States is not a startup. If you run it like one, it will break.

The onslaught of news about Elon Musk’s takeover of the federal government’s core institutions is altogether too much—in volume, in magnitude, in the sheer chaotic absurdity of a 19-year-old who goes by “Big Balls” helping the world’s richest man consolidate power. There’s an easy way to process it, though.

Donald Trump may be the president of the United States, but Musk has made himself its CEO.

This is bad on its face. Musk was not elected to any office, has billions of dollars of government contracts, and has radicalized others and himself by elevating conspiratorial X accounts with handles like @redpillsigma420. His allies control the US government’s human resources and information technology departments, and he has deployed a strike force of eager former interns to poke and prod at the data and code bases that are effectively the gears of democracy. None of this should be happening.

It is, though. And while this takeover is unprecedented for the government, it’s standard operating procedure for Musk. It maps almost too neatly to his acquisition of Twitter in 2022: Get rid of most of the workforce. Install loyalists. Rip up safeguards. Remake in your own image.

This is the way of the startup. You’re scrappy, you’re unconventional, you’re iterating. This is the world that Musk’s lieutenants come from, and the one they are imposing on the Office of Personnel Management and the General Services Administration.

What do they want? A lot.

There’s AI, of course. They all want AI. They want it especially at the GSA, where a Tesla engineer runs a key government IT department and thinks AI coding agents are just what bureaucracy needs. Never mind that large language models can be effective but are inherently, definitionally unreliable, or that AI agents—essentially chatbots that can perform certain tasks for you—are especially unproven. Never mind that AI works not just by outputting information but by ingesting it, turning whatever enters its maw into training data for the next frontier model. Never mind that, wouldn’t you know it, Elon Musk happens to own an AI company himself. Go figure.

Speaking of data: They want that, too. DOGE agents are installed at or have visited the Treasury Department, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, the Small Business Administration, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, the Centers for Medicare and Medicaid Services, the Department of Education, the Department of Health and Human Services, the Department of Labor. Probably more. They’ve demanded data, sensitive data, payments data, and in many cases they’ve gotten it—the pursuit of data as an end unto itself but also data that could easily be used as a competitive edge, as a weapon, if you care to wield it.

And savings. They want savings. Specifically they want to subject the federal government to zero-based budgeting, a popular financial planning method in Silicon Valley in which every expenditure needs to be justified from scratch. One way to do that is to offer legally dubious buyouts to almost all federal employees, who collectively make up a low-single-digit percentage of the budget. Another, apparently, is to dismantle USAID just because you can. (If you’re wondering how that’s legal, many, many experts will tell you that it’s not.) The fact that the spending to support these people and programs has been both justified and mandated by Congress is treated as inconvenience, or maybe not even that.

Those are just the goals we know about. They have, by now, so many tentacles in so many agencies that anything is possible. The only certainty is that it’s happening in secret.

Musk’s fans, and many of Trump’s, have cheered all of this. Surely billionaires must know what they’re doing; they’re billionaires, after all. Fresh-faced engineer whiz kids are just what this country needs, not the stodgy, analog thinking of the past. It’s time to nextify the Constitution. Sure, why not, give Big Balls a memecoin while you’re at it.

The thing about most software startups, though, is that they fail. They take big risks and they don’t pay off and they leave the carcass of that failure behind and start cranking out a new pitch deck. This is the process that DOGE is imposing on the United States.

No one would argue that federal bureaucracy is perfect, or especially efficient. Of course it can be improved. Of course it should be. But there is a reason that change comes slowly, methodically, through processes that involve elected officials and civil servants and care and consideration. The stakes are too high, and the cost of failure is total and irrevocable.

Musk will reinvent the US government in the way that the hyperloop reinvented trains, that the Boring company reinvented subways, that Juicero reinvented squeezing. Which is to say he will reinvent nothing at all, fix no problems, offer no solutions beyond those that further consolidate his own power and wealth. He will strip democracy down to the studs and rebuild it in the fractious image of his own companies. He will move fast. He will break things.

[sightseertrespasser]

I’m curious, what can prowls doorwings do exactly?

So I’ve seen a few different takes on the matter but I’ll explain my spin on what Doorwings do.

Blanket statement to say I’m relying somewhat on fictional sci-fi technology tropes to do what I want and spurn the laws of physics.

Essentially, they’re like a kind of Doppler Radar. Doppler radars function by sending out a pulse (a radio wave) and then waiting for the pulse to bounce back. Doppler Radars can use the time it took for the pulse to return to calculate stuff like distance of an object from the sender (in this case Prowl) or with multiple consecutive pulses and measurements, be able to outline the shape, orientation and velocity of an object.

Now actual Doppler Radars have a range of a few thousand miles, which is uh, a bit further than what I usually see doorwings being used to scan. Can they? Probably. But my Watsonian explanation for why Prowl isn’t predicting cloud formations or tracking incoming long range missiles is that having an acute kinesthetic sense of everything happening within 3,000 miles of you is a lot to be processing all the time. That and walls get in the way, so they’d have to tie him to the roof of the ship like a Christmas tree

So Prowl and other mechs with doorwings keep it to like, their immediate vicinity most of the time. This also means they’ve basically got a sixth sense that works in 360 degrees. If one really wanted to, someone with doorwings could go full ATLA Toph and purely navigate via radar, but that would take serious dedication.

As for the little flap flaps and twitches doorwings tend to do, it’s essentially a way to get a more thorough view of things. Getting more variety in the pings sent out and received, it’s kinda like leaning side to side to get a better look at an object without having to get closer.

Mentally, wing scans manifest as a 3D map of their surroundings. It takes an enormous amount of processing power to do so though, so these maps tend to be fairly low resolution. In the scene where Prowl is scanning the war room, all the soldiers appear as vaguely person shaped pixelated blobs moving through the space, with the definite walls and furniture much more clear.

Because they’re effectively sending out short range radio waves, any mech made with doorwings, mostly Praxian Enforcers, can actually “talk” to each other by sending and receiving these scanning pings.

It’s akin to Morse code with an additional range of notes to choose from. It’s technically not something they were designed to do, but culture is indifferent to the intentions of manufacturers. In other words, if you see Prowl and Smokescreen silently twitching their wings in the same room together, they’re probably talking shit.

Now, lore time. Why do Praxian Enforcers have these things?

My take on it based on lore I’ve gathered from elsewhere, is that it’s supposed to make them better cops (much like Tacnet). Praxian Enforcers (which includes Prowl, Bluestreak and Smokescreen) are Cold Constructed Cops made to serve the Functionalist government. And I get the impression there was more than one instance of some rich asshole going “Yeah that looks cool, add that to to final design.” While the R&D team tears out their figurative hair.

The idea was that a bunch of cops with built in Spidey Senses should be really good at chasing down criminals. If they’re on the road, it’s much easier to track where all the other drivers around them are. If they’re storming a building, having a way to instantly know where everything is in the room regardless of lighting, smoke or other obfuscations is ridiculously useful.

There’s two design flaws in that however. One, doorwings are a big flashy target, and because they’re effectively sensory organs, getting shot in the wing is a lot like getting shot in the eye. And unlike teeny tiny very protectable eyes, doorwings are huge panels that can’t even be fully armored because the damn things have to move to work properly. But hey, they look cool so the government officials who commissioned them are happy.

And two, just because you can sense everything in a 360 degree radius, doesn’t mean actually you’ll able to focus on every single thing happening within that radius. Doorwing passive scanning works just like how sight works with our actual eyes, most of our vision is unfocused except for a relatively tiny area that has our active attention. But unlike eyeballs, which can be pointed in a specific direction, wing scans can’t just bring one thing into focus at a time. Either your raising the resolution on ALL of your surroundings, or you’re figuring out what the thing is manually.

I have a lot of thoughts on how Tacnet functions as well, but that’ll come up in a future story.

Thank you for the chance to ramble!

[transformers-spike]

Hello author ^w^ Could you write something for SG Optimus Prime x human reader? He's the meanest, evilest bot and I want to see what you can do with him

There's definitely a Shattered Glass wiki, but it also feels like a lot of people are doing their own thing with it. Thank you @drunkeninlovesailor for discussing SG with me until I got a good vibe for what I was going for. Surprisingly no warnings other than dubious morality lol

Something is terribly wrong and you know it. You’ve been shown only kindness until now, but there’s a dread hanging over your head like the sword of Damocles. Some part of your ingrained instinct knows this is a trap, but what can you do when, in person, he’s treated you with utmost kindness? You know the rumors, you’ve seen the tapes, the pictures, the news broadcasts showing you undoctored footage of what he’s done to your kind. And yet, your brain refuses to believe it. Be it some kind of self-protective measure to cope with your current circumstances, or pure idiocy on your part – it doesn’t matter in the end. You’re here, of your own volition no less, at the Autobot leader's side overlooking the vast array of data at your disposal. It’s an easy distraction. How can it not be? Architecture unlike anything you’ve ever seen, technology you can’t even begin to wrap your mind around, towering monoliths of the Golden Age and libraries larger than human countries. He’s told you so much during these last couple of days, about his old life as a clerk – a glorified librarian from what you understand – translating codes into writing and filing through endless documents. How his life changed when he met a gladiator from the pits of Kaon, nameless until the crowds bestowed upon him the title Megatronus, after one of the thirteen primes. How they saw corruption in the system and aimed to change it, only for their alliance to fall apart.

Betrayal isn’t something you’ve experienced on his level, but you can empathize with him, let him know you care about him, and he does appreciate it. Appreciate you. Nothing you offer can measure up to their kind, yet he gazes upon you with a special warmth in his optics. Shame used to make you sick to the core when it started, brain going into overdrive and screaming at you to book it out of there whenever he touched you. Sometimes, you flinched, and he would pull back and mutter a low but earnest apology. He gave you space to adjust, and despite every instinct tearing you away from him, you made the effort to relax your muscles and unclench your jaw. And you’re happy. So very happy you accepted him in spite of the terror consuming you. It feels good to be handled so gently by a giant; metal digits gliding over your body with utmost care, pressing into the softness between your legs and rubbing until you see stars. You’ve fucked yourself with his spike and valve more times than you care to admit, collapsing after the umpteenth orgasm. Then, shivering from pleasure, you would meet his unyielding gaze, something burning inside his optics that was the furthest thing from respect. It vanished, yes, it always did, but it didn’t change what you saw. You want to say it was something else, some personal frustration slipping through at the wrong moment, anything to justify the contempt you witnessed. The more you focus on it, the worse it gets. Is it so wrong to choose ignorance? To look the truth in the face and avert your eyes? You must be mistaken, even with all evidence at the tip of your fingers, it must be something else. Maybe he’s more dominant than he lets on and he conceals it to be polite. Maybe he gets a kick out of humiliating you in bed, even if it’s just in his processor. Or maybe… you never meant anything from the start and this is some twisted experiment.

Does ignoring it make you a horrible person? You know of his actions, heck, you saw them second hand. But it doesn’t feel like he’s capable of committing these atrocities. Thinking about it already has your heart hammering against your ribcage and blood rushing to your ears. You can’t keep doing this. You just can’t. It’s either your brain shuts off the intrusive thoughts or you dig deeper. And by God, you don’t want to look for something you can’t unsee.

[evilminji]

I... am haunted? By my Midi-chlorian theory?

Cause they are PROBABLY? Some sort of Symbiotic Bacteria?

Which was my theory. Cause "micro-organisms" is vague af? And doesn't exactly tell us what KIND? But it's probably not a mammal or some sort of fish? So like... helpful blood bacteria. Got it! No different then a good gut biome. Makes perfect sense!

Yeah, THIS one has? For some reason? A hyper sensitivity to fundamental forces of reality? But I mean? Monkeys with type writers, right? Something, somewhere, was bound to get it. Some organisms get better smell to survive, some get sensitive whiskers. The blood bacteria got jacked in to Reality's newsreel. Some low ranking admin privileges.

Still? Needs a HOST to survive though. Doesn't, itself, even really HAVE a brain.

Cause it's a Bacteria.

A Bacteria and... and Bacteria can be multiplied. Grown. Obviously? Midi-chlorians refuse to do so outside of a living body. Or the Sith and various other researchers, bother ethical and UNETHICAL, would have figured out how to crack Midi-chlorian development.

They ALSO? We can only assume? DO NOT mix. As in? Any Midi-chlorian's? Removed from the Original Host™ die off pretty promptly. (In time with the blood rotting or new body assimilating the fresh, donated, blood.) So you presumably, couldn't take from, say, Skywalker and give to an average farmer, and have that farmer become mildly force sensitive.

Even THOUGH? The BLOOD? Is where his Midi-chlorians are! So PRESUMABLY? So long as he and the farmer had compatible blood types? That SHOULD happen! Because Anikin his a SHIT TON of Midi-chlorian bacteria in his blood and the farmer would be receiving some of that High Production Strain.

Not saying the farmer would ever become a powerhouse. But? There should? Be a difference? Even if it was only temporarily.

Yet? It seems? Like Midi-chlorian strains? Just don't MIX. They split off, during development of a child, begin cultivation of their own unique colony, and never again! Shall the stains blend. I'd go so far? As to say? They probably ATTACK other Midi-chlorians in THEIR space.

Like part of the immune system. Disease, poison, parasites, and of course? Those filthy, FILTHY Other Midi-chlorian Colonies trying to encroach upon THEIR resources. Get! GET!

Which is where? All past attempts have FAILED. Because they? Had an END GOAL first, and they worked their way backwards. Approached it all with either preconceived notions or complete derision of the subject matter. Ignoring countless culture's collective MILLENNIUMS of knowledge on the subject. The observations. The notes. The folk remedies and early sciences.

Arrogant. Forgetting or outright dismissing. Because THEY were better. THEY were SMARTER. Surely, THEY would crack the code! Unlock the SECRETS of this MYSTICAL building block of the Force!

Achieve... POWER.

But? The thing IS? Primitive? Does not and HAS not? Ever meant stupid. It means young. New. Doctors and scientists, doing the best they could, with what they had. To help as many as they could. The Force? It was a mysterious thing. They knew the shape of it. The edges, but not it's depths. They could observe.

If they did X... Y occurred. Medicine A? Brought about B and C side effects, avoid it going forward. Use Medicine D. So forth and so on. Building upon the knowledge of the past.

But OH, THEY? Didn't have fancy modern medical technology! Didn't know the modern terms! So obviously they were superstitious idiots!

Thus, attempt after attempt. Failed. Usually with innocent people, paying the price. Because Power. Because Fame. Because they could rule the galaxy and go down in history books... if only these simple little bacteria would COOPERATE. But.... they don't. Do they?

Because you lack understanding.

You. Can Not. Remove Them. From The. HOST.

They DIE.

They can exsist in exactly ONE(1) environment. Their NATIVE environment. Where you found them? That's where they need to STAY. If you found them in a tree? The need to stay in THAT specific tree. Dirt? Well then! Dirt from THAT specific region of THAT specific PLANET. No moving! Cease! Desist!

Are the Midi-chlorians in a baby? The start up strains were donated! Congrats! THEY LIVE THERE NOW. They are now NATIVE to the BABY. Can not exsist OUTSIDE the baby! In fact, will immediately begin to die! Outside that baby!

This is WHY Sith Alchemy is so fucked up. Lots of live experimentation and forcing Midi-chlorians into statis. Body horror everywhere. No mas! It DOES NOT SPARK JOY.

Which?! That leads me to my point! The part of all this THAT FUCKING HAUNTS ME!!!

Bacteria can be multiplied if you give it the right food. Fuck, it WANTS to multiple. WANTS to go gangbusters. Just? Absolutely apeshit. Thick enough in the blood to turn it all into PASTE. It doesn't have a brain. It can't look around and think to itself "hey, maybe we should slow down, we're straining the environment".

It's bacteria. Ultimately, in the end, JUST Bacteria.

Yes, it may be the medium by which we connect to The Force... but IT itself? Has no intelligence to negotiate with. Just like the cells in your body. And JUST like the cells in your body? It can be a cancer. Could kill you, if something went wrong.

If SOMEONE, deliberately, made things go wrong.

All in the name of "Science".

Yes, once again, I consider the SI-OC, even as I consider Midi-chlorians themselves. What "feeds" such a bacteria? A healthy body, presumably. Connection to the Force? Kyber, most likely. Force powerful items. We know they "call" to those who are Sensitive. But! As we know? The part of your body that can actually FEEL that call? Is the Midi-chlorians in your blood, which then transfers the information to it's host.

It is the Midi-chlorians that want that specific Force object. In all likelihood, because it benefits them. That it benefits you? Is a lovely side effect. That is can be used for things? Neat! Good on you for figuring that out! It would still call you to collect pretty, shining, rocks, even if you couldn't use Kyber for SHIT. You would be COMPELLED.

NEED it.

It makes the Midi-chlorians inside you go Brrrrr. Mmm, yes, happy chemicals. Positive reinforcement! You should continue to do OTHER things that help the Midi-chlorians! Like meditation, eating well, and being around others! Go on! Hug that baby! Yeeeeeah, good energy makes LOTS of Midi-chlorian food! (Bad energy too. We are not picky. But that Does Not Feel Nice. So like.... why tho?)

So! Consider!

You have yourself an UNETHICAL AF scientist. The Board does NOT UNDERSTAND THEIR GENIUS etc etc. They have completely lost their shit. Unfortunately, they have money. And Slavery and desperation abound. There are ugly, UGLY pockets of darkness in this galaxy.

They? Have An Idea™! (It is a terrible, horrifying idea)

This scientist? Is going to crack the Secrets of The Midi-chlorian! Become Famous! It is a plot heard many times before, sadly. Just as sadly? SI-OC's parents, who were on their way to the temple, never make it there. Make no mistake! Good people. Upset, of course, that they will be losing their daughter. But? As all good parents do?

They made the decision they thought was best for their baby girl. A lifetime of being understood. Supported. Of stable food and safe beds. A good, quality education they would never be able to afford. Being able to help people someday. They love their daughter. Weep for losing her. But sometimes? Loving your child? Means letting them go.

Not forgotten. NEVER forgotten. But somewhere better then they could ever give her. Safe from those who would see their child in chains.

They do not make it.

But they do not go quietly. When those bastards come for their little girl. They make it cost dearly. Not dearly enough. Never, ever, enough. But one of the other passengers is able to get off the emergency beacon. So the Jedi will know. They will come.

It... it has to be... enough...

And it is.

And they do.

But it is not just a pirate attack. Not JUST slavers. No... no this is far more horrifying. Far worse indeed. The Shadow sent to rescue the child? Stumbles into a festering shitshow. The sort that takes a TEAM to unravel. The not-pirates are mercenaries, are closing in fast. He send his data in full, in one big lump as an emergency download.

Capture likely eminent. They're experimenting on Force Sensitives. Need Back Up.

Help.

The Doctor is, of course, DELIGHTED! An adult specimen AND a child! Comparisons and contrasts! They ramble on, unhinged, to the horror of the Shadow. Who's eyes are locked on the Crecheling in a cage. He knows help will come... but will it come fast enough?

No. Not really.

But what keeps HIM from falling? Is the Crecheling that needs to be taught. Ironic, in a way, that the very thing their capture demands and demands? Is what helps them escape, however temporarily, their cages. Meditate. They are told. Or else.

Surrounded by stolen artifacts of Light.

Meditate.

Meditate.

Imagine, if you will, a dialysis machine. It filters the blood, yes? Pumps it outside the body? A terrible process. Trial and error. How far is too far? At what distance, do the midi-chlorians begin to die? The doctor kills... so, SO many innocent. Not their prize specimens. Jedi are hard to get! But slaves? Easy enough.

The Shadow can not Fall, he reminds himself. Can not give in to his grief or rage. His horror, his sorrow. It... it is so hard. To remember the Light. In this dark place. But the Crechling helps. The kyber, the artifacts. When... not... Not IF! But WHEN he gets out of here? He thinks... he thinks he should retire. Being a Creche Master sounds lovely, to be honest.

Bright. Peaceful.

The doctor completes their horror machine. He can not stop them from putting on SI-OC. After all... HE is done growing. It filters the blood, you see. Nice and close to the body. Through and around Force rich materials, in medical grade tubing. Exposing the Midi-chlorians directly to the energy they feed off of. Filter in a mineral solution to use as building blocks.

It WORKS.

The midi-chlorians in SI-OC blood start multiplying far faster and too far greater concentration then ever before. Slowly but surely boosting their Force Sensitivity as they go. What a rousing success.

If it weren't slowly killing SI-OC.

Ever imagine? What would happen if someone reached over and slowly started turning up the sensitivity on your eyesight? Your hearing? Your taste, touch, the FEELING OF YOUR BONES? If every breath was sandpaper, and every thought an adrenaline rush?

Could you imagine? FEELING the galaxy BREATHE? Knowing for a fact that your body had been specially designed for a certain level of sensitivity? And you had been broken? Because someone wanted to see if you could handle HIGHER?

Power without the support structure? Burns everything down.

Just because something CAN be done? Doesn't mean it will work the way you fantasize it will. Reality is not a story book. Where Power comes in pretty little packages, to be bought or sold or stolen. Midi-chlorians were always Bacteria. And trying to fuck with your own micro-biomes for more power? Was always destined to end in death and disease.

For you. For someone else. For every innocent you dragged into it.

They scoffed at the "primitive" scholars who warned not to fuck with it, yet still treat it like its a mystical power to be seized.

The Shadows that finally track down the lab? BURN it wil a VENGEANCE. It is a place of horrors. And initiate SI-OC is very, VERY sick. They aren't even sure they can risk taking her to Coruscant. Too many people. Jedha? Probably safer. Luckily their library has something that...? MIGHT? Be able to help treat this?

SI-OC probably never stops Tasting Time™ and seeing the Pretty Colors™ but? At least she becomes? Largely functional? Probably needs a disability animal. One that's mildly force sensitive, so it knows when she's ~~drifting~~ again. Keep her from walking into traffic or off a landing platform.

The random bouts of prophecy and mind reading are a bit disconcerting, but like? Lay off! It's not SI-OC fault! Be nice! She can't help it! Don't be rude! D:< she basicly has tiny Force Nexus in HER BLOOD. So WHAT if she occasionally stops to admire a sunrise that hasn't existed for thousands of years? It's probably pretty!

The younglings? Very understanding. Adults are a bit creeped out. But like? Eh. Just EXTRA Jedi-y Jedi... they guess? (No, no not really. This one had a serious Force Incident. But like FUCK we're breaking rank to tell outsiders that sooooo..... Sure? Yeah. Let's go with that!)

Ironically? I bet? Anikin gets along great with her? They're team "WHY YES, THE FORCE IS VERY LOUD. WHY ARE WE SHOUTING? SO YOU CAN HEAR US! OVER THE FORCE! WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT'S NOT THAT LOU-?". He got it naturally, she got it by getting fucked over. But? They can both go?

"Hey, you feel that thingy in the-?" *vague hand motion* and get a "oh YEAH! Wonder what's THAT'S about?". Does anyone else feel it? No. Is it obvious to THEM? Yes.

Will Anikin punch your lights out, if you mock his disabled friend? *boss music starts playing* R U N. Padme would help. Tag team, fuckeeeeer! *from the highbar with a steel chair*

Community is EVERYTHING. And sometimes? It's you, your secret wife, your brother-mentor-dad, the Clone army you adopted, and the perpetually Force High/Vaguely Brain Damaged jedi you call your best friend! And the droids. And your secret wife's body gaurd squad. And the younglings your friend-... actually? You know what? Your family's kinda big.

Awesome :)

@legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @spidori @hdgnj @hypewinter @leftnotright @the-witchhunter @lolottes @mayfay

[phantoms-lair]

Round Robin-Prologue

"What's up Gotham!"

All the TV's, even the ones turned off, flicked to show an overweight man with long hair red hair and sideburns. Not a rogue many recognized, but he had all the right vibes. "This is Control Freak. And I'm hear to provide some top rate entertainment. My remote has gotten a lovely upgrade." He showed off what looked like a TV remote glowing with ethereal power. "So let welcome the main character in tonight's entertainment. Protector of Gotham, Batman's partner and bane of my existence - Robin."

He pressed a button on the remote and the screens flashed. Suddenly joining him in the white expanse was Red Hood, Spoiler, and Robin, in addition to one teenager dressed in normal clothes but has apparently slapped a domino on mid-transfer and one man whose face was covered in glowing light.

"Where are we?" Glowing face asked. "And is this a new nutjob?"

"Old nutjob." Civies kid answered. "Control Freak. Has a modified remote that he originally used control any technology in the immediate area. Later upgraded it with magic to either pull others in the TV shows he enjoyed, or to bring things from those shows to life in the real world. Likes to televise his crimes. He used to bother the Titans back when Nightwing was Robin. He got caught and actually manged to stay caught for years. Guessing he got out recently."

"Super-stalker knowledge go!" Spoiler joked

"When Nightwing...but he's in Bludhaven!" Control Freak exclaimed. He hadn't exactly kept abreast of the hero scene while he was in jail, but thought it a safe bet that if Robin wasn't active with the Titans anymore he'd be back home in Gotham. "Wait, I've seen pictures of Nightwing, did Robin get replaced as a pod person from Disco Hell?"

"I've been there and no, he's just like that." Civies kid said like it was a completely sane thing to say.

"This guy was from his Titan days? Yeah I get the confusion." Red Hood nodded. "That was when Nightwing was going through his 'Look at me Dad, I'm so serious and responsible I don't need you' phase'."

"I...honestly can't picture that." Glowing face admitted.

"So basically this guy got everyone who was ever Robin except the one he was after?" Spoiler chuckled.

That...of course there was more than one Robin. Ugh. Hold on... "Are you saying...Red Hood used to be Robin?"

"You said he like to televise his crimes? So this is being broadcasted to everyone in Gotham?" Red Hood asked with a growl.

"Most likely."

"PAUSE!" Control Freak yelped, pressing the button on his remote as bullets suddenly began to fly in his direction. He stared at what could have been his death frozen in real time.

"I was never Robin, so why am I here?" Glowing Face asked.

"Tsk." Robin sounded more annoyed by Glowing Face than Control Freak. "I told you using your 'We Are Robin' movement was usurping my rightful name."

"Get over yourself, Demon Brat." Civie's snorted.

Spoiler chuckled, than blinked. "Didn't you have a date tonight?"

"Yes I did." Civies said in a very low, very deliberate voice. "And if the best thing that's ever happened to me gets ruined because this guy used a plural when he meant a singular in the wrong city, he is going to find out why Batman himself is terrified of me breaking and going to the dark side. I follow his no killing code out of respect to him, push me far enough and see where I go!"

"Pause, pause, pause, pause!" Control Freak was taking no more chances. He paused everyone. "So....Robins are scary, who knew?" He chuckled nervously. Okay, he knew Robin was a brilliant leader and terrifying fighter. He was not expecting the amount of 'cool with murder' vibes he was getting.

"Well, on to tonight's festivities. My initial plan was to trap Robin in a video game he'd have to fight his way out of. We've got more Robins, but hey, I've got options!" Control Freak clicked a button and a social media poll opened up. "I made a poll online asking what video game Robin would have the worst time in and why? I've populated a picker wheel to spin for it. I was only going to do one Robin, but I have more than enough choices for all these guy. And Robin. Original Robin. If you'd care to come by to save your successors, you'll be more than welcome to join in the fun!"

"So without further ado let's SPIN. THE. WHEEL!" Control Freak grabbed the digital wheel and gave it a spin. "Let's go Oldest to Youngest. Red Hood, you're going to..."

"Persona 4! This video game was nominated because-" He pulled up a cue card, "'The main characters have to face their own issues and accept their inner flaws in order to survive and I don't think any of the Bats could face that level of introspection.' Thanks for your suggestion. Hopefully Red Hood will enjoy his time in Inaba!" Control Freak clicked his remote and Red Hood vanished in a burst of static. "Persona 4! This video game was nominated because-" He pulled up a cue card, "'The main characters have to face their own issues and accept their inner flaws in order to survive and I don't think any of the Bats could face that level of introspection.' Thanks for your suggestion. Hopefully Red Hood will enjoy his time in Inaba!" Control Freak clicked his remote and Red Hood vanished in a burst of static.

He glanced at the wheel. "Hmm, glad it didn't go with Mafia. That would have been easy mode for him. Actually..." he shuffled through his cards, "so I initially agreed with 'Mafia, because in order to win they have to become the head of a criminal empire as something that would suck for Robin.' But given Hood and this guy." Control Freak pointed to Civies. "Plus that current Robin was, uh, in the process of drawing a very sharp sword when I froze them," Control Freak gulped, "I think that's actually up their alley and I don't want to encourage them to make a revenge hit on me so I'm removing that from the board. Sorry." He tossed the card over his shoulder and the option vanished from the pickerwheel.

"On to the next..." He stopped at looked at them. "Okay, Robin's obviously the youngest, but I have no clue about the others. So let's go with Spoiler because I at least tangentially know who she is."

"Bloodrayne! This one was chosen because 'As a half vampire Robin will have to kill people and drink their blood to play. Plus he'd look hilarious in that bustier." Control Freak blinked. "Well, I'm sorry your crossdressing dreams have been dashed as the one girl Robin was the one who got this one. Hopefully we'll still see some good blood drinking struggles. And now for our two mystery guests. Eeny meeny miney...You! We're going with Domino guy first. Let's SPIN THE WHEEL." Control Freaked watched as the wheel ticked right where Mafia had been and counted his blessing before taking in where it had landed.

"Splatterhouse (Remake). Nominated for 'Robin is agile and clever. This game requires sheer brute force and to not just kill your opponents but pulverize them and feed on the violence you're causing to heal and power up.' Control Freak looked a lot less relieved. "You know, the back of the box blurb said this one was about rescuing the heroes girlfriend. I could put in his girlfriend in place of the Protagonists....but I think I want to keep living afterwards. Ah what the heck, he's going to try and kill me anyway, let's make for a great show. Don't worry, my guy date night is back on!" He pressed the remote and Civies vanished. Another click in the towards the screen assured his date would be gone too. "But let's not dwell on that. Next up, out second Mystery Guest, let's see how this goes."

"How appropriate to go with our light guy, 'Eternal Darkness'. Let's see the nomination 'Eternal Darkness because everyone in Gotham knows you can only trust yourself, but the game forces to to experience hallucinations when your sanity is low and you can never be sure I stuff is real or not and I think not being able to trust his sense would drive him crazy'. Oooh, watching a Robin hallucinate and be paranoid about everything he sees, while being out of the splash radius? Count me in! Man, too bad we didn't get to send Nightwing here, it would have been a blast. Oh course it's not too late if you want to stop by." Control Freak grinned.

"And now where to send the smallest bird in the flock. One last time, say it with me. SPIN. THE. WHEEL." Control Freak grabbed the side of the picker wheel and gave it the strongest turn yet. It spun around in a fury, before slowing down and settling in the last game.

"I guess 'Demon Brat' was prophetic as little Robin is going to Devil May Cry 3. Let's look at the nomination. 'Devil May Cry 3, because the series focuses on gunplay, which the bats are forbidden from'," Control Freak looked up. "Guess I wasn't the only one out of the loop on Red Hood. Continuing, 'and three in particular because it's a prequel and Dante isn't this cool controlled customer yet. He's an overreactive teenager(i think he's 19) who thinks he's far cooler than he is. He's so cringe it would be hilarious'. Well, that's what we got. Seems like Robins the right age for some chunnibiyo shit, so maybe it's fitting, who can say? You'll all find out in the coming nights."

"Oh, you thought you'd get to watch it all go down now? Sorry to disappoint. This is the teaser trailer. We'll being starting the show tomorrow night and doing one episode per weeknight. Same bird time, same bird channel. See you tomorrow." Control Freak aimed his remote at the screen and with the press of a button all the TV's turned back to normal.

But in Gotham city, nothing was normal. Oracle was contacting as many people as she could, while trying to impress that Dick should be kept out of Gotham. Criminals scurried and hid, fearing the wrath of the Bat without any of his minders left. And Bruce...Bruce was staring at the screen that had just gone dark, a million thoughts running through his head. His fists and jaw clenched.

Control Freak would pay.

~~~~

Okay, so as the screencaps were evidence for I did make the picker wheel and I did spin it for each Robin. I feel the need to say this because...most of the felt too fitting. Tim was mad because he was on a date and gets the game with the big focus on romantic relationships. Steph gets the character who's goal in becoming a badass warrior is getting revenge on her evil father for destroying her family. Duke and his light powers get a game titled Eternal Darkness. Damian gets a game where his character's roll is defined as the heir of a powerful demon. It was randomized, I swear!

Also the organized Crime game was initially on the board, but after rolling for Hood I decided to have CF remove it as Crime Boss Simulator wouldn't exactly be torture for a crime lord and he was a little less sure about the other Robins at that point. But I didn't remove it on my board, cause I figured what were the odds And Guess what Tim got? Splaterhouse was technically a reroll.