#why wouldn't you try to automate some of the process

[operahousebookworm]

I totally get the ND feel of etiquette where it feels like everyone is following all these unwritten rules

But the thing is--the rules are very much written

Wherever there is gatekeeping, there will be someone standing next to the wall selling ladders. Peddling respectability to the middle class has always been big business, and so there were books and courses and such to teach this stuff to the plebs.

My mom enrolled my older sister in one such course, called Pretty As A Picture. I did not take the course, but I did read the little book that came with it, several times. Bits that I remember include what to say if you open two of the same gift at your birthday party, how to answer the phone when they were calling for someone else at your house (we used to all share numbers!), how to wash your face, and yes, which forks to use. (Start at the outside and work your way in.)

It was basically a cheat sheet for Why Are People Like That, and specifically for preteen girls, too. Did some of the rules make intuitive sense to me? No! The rules for attack of opportunity don't make much sense to me either, but I can still get through combat.

And that was just one angle, there are loads of books from across history and cultures plus videos and stuff now of people teaching the exact same thing

I feel like in the rush of “throw out etiquette who cares what fork you use or who gets introduced first” we actually lost a lot of social scripts that the younger generations are floundering without.

[chidorrrita]

Hey, I'm not sure if you'll do this one, but like... I was on c.ai and actually made this cute little thing that I want to see with a more cannon L.

Basically, L and Reader are in a relationship, she has no connection to the Kira case, she's just a normal person. One night, L was on his laptop when she entered the room, crying and asking him to give up the case, because she just found out she's pregnant.

It's silly, but the way L comforted my character, I just need to see it with a more human writing 😭

Hello darling! Thank you for sending an ask! It’s not silly at all and I am more than willing to oblige. I hope you don’t mind, but I tweaked the story a little. Hopefully it’s still enjoyable. 

Being in a relationship with L Lawliet was not easy. He was rarely ever with you, off on some business trip or other, and even when he was, his mind would drift off, eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of him as he waited for you to get out of the shower. He would have to leave again, twice as long this time, to Japan. This case was proving to be far more difficult than he expected but you did not need to know the details. As much as you insist, he will never darken your mind with the details of any case he works. 

You spend the night together in each other’s arms praying it lasts a little longer, but it never works. Morning comes too quickly, and you kiss L at the door, never saying goodbye because this isn’t a goodbye. He will return. He must.

Christmas comes and you stay in your flat with colorful shadows of yourself reflected on the walls from tree lights outside your window. You stand hunched over the bathroom sink, unblinking eyes focused on your hands. Shrieks of joy from young children and gossiping mothers can be heard from the park across the street temporarily drawing your attention away. Happy families enjoying the holidays together. It almost makes you want to vomit. You peer down at your hands again, willing the color on the strip to change. No matter how many times you rub your eyes or shake the damn thing, it stays the same. Two pink lines. Christmas carollers start to sing and you are overtaken by a bout of nausea. You really should have used a condom.

After cleaning up the mess in the bathroom, you stumble to your bedroom dropping to your knees and swiping beneath your bed in search of a burner phone. L had given it to you in case you needed to reach him. It was a one use sort of thing, designed to self destruct after a call has been made. Finally you find it, covered in dust bunnies, but still in working condition. You input a code of numbers, accessing the contacts, take a deep breath, and call L. One, two, three rings, then he picks up.

His voice crackles over the speaker. “Hello.”

“Is there anyone with you?”

You hear muffled shuffling and then what sounds like a door locking.

“No.”

“Okay.” A slight pause. “I’m pregnant.” Exhale.

L goes silent trying to process the gravity of your statement, mouth opening and then shutting. He could be a father, if you wanted him to be, but he realizes where he is. In a country hours away from you, stuck in an empty hotel room with only the whir of computers and the thought of you to keep his sanity during this case that will surely take his life.

“I’ll be right there.”

The line goes dead before you can reply. The automated voice saying the phone will self-destruct in five seconds, and you rush to the bathroom, throwing it in the sink before it has the chance to explode in your hand. 

Six-teen hours later, he’s at your door red in the face and puffing with sweat dripping off his forehead. 

“Where-how did you get here so fast?” 

“Ran-” he takes a deep breath “from airport.”

“Why wouldn't you drive?”

Another breath. “Traffic.”

He pushes past your unmoving frame, walking straight to the fridge and chugging a water bottle. Slowly, still in shock of his unorthodox arrival, you lock the front door and follow him to the kitchen where he has downed yet another bottle. 

You stare at him, bewildered, waiting for an explanation for his erratic behavior, and he stares back, slightly shrugging his shoulders as if it was self explanatory. 

Daring to break the silence, you ask, “What do we do?”

“Whatever you want my love.” He answers quickly back. 

You place your hands on your lower belly, imagining the little life just barely starting to grow into an embryo. Physical proof of the love you share. Flashes of a nonexistent Christmas pass your mind, wrapped up in fuzzy blankets as you watch L play with your child, softly cooing when their chubby hands nearly reach a star shaped ornament in his hands.

 “I think I want to keep it.” 

He smiles and places his own hands on top of yours, rubbing small circles with his thumbs. “Then we will.”

Suddenly you look up from your joined hands, worry etched on your brow. “What about your job? Aren’t you on a case?”

L’s voice is low and soothing. “I’ll send someone to take my place.” You open your mouth in protest, but he beats you to it, “I belong here with you” and the words die on your tongue. 

L presses you closer to his chest, arms protectively wrapped around your waist, and his head buried in the crook of your neck. No words are exchanged because no more words are needed. He will stay and create the family he never had with you, and he couldn’t be happier.

[arkanis-englishupdates]

SUMMARY OF ALL ARKANIS POVs

DAY 16 & DAY 17 — 18/09/2024 & 19/09/2024

DAY 16 — 19/09/2024

The day begins with some disturbances for Gabepeixe, who receives a mysterious voice message telling him to go to the factory unarmed and alone. The half-fish goes to the factory, takes the internal elevator and there, he has an argument with Araldo, who insists that he is the only one capable of carrying out automated processes in Valigma. Angry, Gabepeixe confronts him and then leaves.

Fearing punishment for his retaliation, Gabepeixe dismantles all his farms that he had in his laboratory.

Gabepeixe then starts with his plan of making a lunar base so Araldo wouldn't bother him, starting to build rockets for him and his son.

[I'm sorry, but I don't have much information about Day 16. Please, if you have it, send it here in the comments and I'll update everything!]

DAY 17 — 19/09/2024

Quel, Matt, Denix e Gabepeixe they meet and start talking, and Denix reveals that he and his father are going to the moon to build another secret laboratory there (Gabepeixe doesn't want to have any more problems with Araldo, that's why he wants to build his laboratory on the moon).

Matt and Quel decide to talk more about the diaries and Bia Raux. The duo try to decipher the words missing from the diaries, but are unsuccessful.

(It is revealed by Quel that Bia and her other followers [she included] were against Araldo).

Matt discovers that Araldo has been contacting different specialists. It seems that Araldo is planning something against Gabepeixe.

Quel tries to explain to Matt what Bia said about what Arkanya is, but it wasn't very clear what it was. But she believes it is an energy and that you have free will to use it however you want. For example, from Bia's point of view, Araldo and Mayor Jota use it the wrong way and she is the personification of good.

Apparently there is an emergency excavation made by the Mayor and Araldo.

Sheriff Jorge says that Jota and Araldo got together to do this excavation, but they don't know exactly why.

Gabepeixe and Denix invite their friends to watch the launch of rockets that have the moon as their destination. Unfortunately there were complications and both rockets failed, with Gabepeixe landing roughly on the ground. While Gabepeixe was down, Araldo appears in front of him accusing him of trying to escape, leaving the half-fish alone right after.

Quel and everyone who was at the event find Gabepeixe on the ground, with him stating that Araldo had sabotaged the rockets.

Suddenly Gabepeixe disappears, leaving everyone on alert to look for him.

Everyone looks for Gabepeixe around the city, but they are soon teleported to Araldo's office, who was waiting for them with Gabepeixe. Everyone talks to Araldo, accusing him of having more power over the government than he should, but Araldo counters by saying that he has a legitimate friendship with Jota.

While the conversation was going on, Araldo asked Quel about her mask and why she couldn't take it off, he says he would never make a mask that was impossible to remove and that I would never force anyone to use, saying this was definitely something Bia Raux would do.

Araldo says that if Gabepeixe wants some advanced technology, he could give it to him himself, and says he will organize a dinner with everyone as a kind of welcome (With Araldo also stating that if anyone wants a mask, he would gladly do so).

After being intermittently interrupted, Araldo disappears using a type of flash grenade.

(It is said by Gabepeixe that before ending up in the office, the half-fish was in a place completely full of machinery and a type of purple light/magic)

The group goes to the house that Gabepeixe shares with Yayahz and Coreano to theorize and discuss what happened. Quel suddenly receives a book by Bia Raux with the following text:

"Don't worry, Q. This scoundrel will pay when we blow up Valigma... Don't tell anyone, lil kisses."

Choke calls Quel to talk at home, saying that she doesn't like Araldo but likes Bia. Quel agrees with the frog and Choke says she has been talking to Bia for some time, waiting for the long-awaited meeting with her (Quel also explains that Arkanya is a type of energy that flows through some things, like parchments. She says that it changes a lot depending on what you intend to do with the person and that it has to do with free will).

Choke reveals that she got the seed of the giant tree (Samaúma, the tree that sings) from Gnomeu, and that she thinks it could be something from Bia. The duo then agree to keep everything they talked about secret.

Quel says that Samaúma remember her a tree on the island where the boat crashed. The duo decide to go there by boat. There, they explore the tree and then the large mask cave (Quel explains about the mine incident and that Moah ended up dying in the cave).

Choke says to Quel that at city hall there is a locker with the letter "M" written, and Quel says that "M" is a friend of her, also a specialist who arrived with her 6 months ago. She also says that she doesn't know where "M" is, and that one of her objectives is to care and protect "M".

While exploring, Quel and Choke (accompanied by Gris) head in a direction pointed by an arrow and find a large purple and pink castle surrounded by a dome, probably belonging to Bia.

Gabepeixe and Denix set out to find a new location for their secret base. Gabe decides to create several small secret laboratories spread across the city, making it difficult for Araldo to destroy them. They begin the construction of the first laboratory under Bira's bar.

[thelongestway]

Had to edit a bit of detail in the previous chapters, because what I was going for with the extra hostile didn't quite work the way I wanted it to.

But honestly, that's not too important, because that's a minor detail, and I'm a lot more excited by the bigger ones I got to do here. So without further ado...

Chapter 38: Shadow

For a moment, I forgot that Iceblink wasn't a construct, and I sent her a Query: revival halt? at the same time as I released my diagnostics into the systems around Tal's pod. But she understood, and returned a 55 seconds! at just about the same time as I had data on the imminent pod failure.

Hostile Four's shot took out two critical power lines. If I could reconnect them, or plug in another power source in that time frame, the emergency revival procedure would be stopped. The problem was that after all the destruction, I couldn't see a viable power source anywhere in the vicinity. Except one.

Except me.

Iceblink, your priority is to evade hostiles until Hiram arrives, I said as I skidded a sharp turn into the cold sleep room. The only good thing about the emergency revival protocols was that I didn't have to bust down the door.

But Tal--

I've got kem, and I did. I had a full thirty seconds to open my energy weapon ports, and I'd done it in ten before. I was just glad it was two dead power lines and not three or four, so I didn't have to cut open my legs, which did not have energy weapons for easy access, and spread out across across the cold sleep box like the world's most fucked up starfish. (Thanks for that stupid fauna name, Sargasso.) But I did have to kneel behind the cold sleep pod with my arms connected into it, like I was carrying the dead tech.

Except I wasn't carrying kem anywhere. My movement radius would be restricted by the patch cord. All I'd have to support Iceblink were the cameras. And she had at least five hostiles to deal with, while Hiram's team was still an entire twelve minutes away.

Tal's chronostasis pod bit into me and I felt my muscles go weak and my processes become fuzzy. Performance reliability immediately dropped 15 percent, because that cold sleep box devoured power like a ravenous improbable worm devoured terrain on its way to a succulent client. I fought to optimize the drain and make sure my power cells lasted longer, so I missed an automated piece of system activating, and it unhelpfully and loudly announced POWER RESTORED. EMERGENCY REVIVAL HALTED to everyone in the area.

Hostile Leader took cover in a feed-cut lab, where Iceblink couldn't reach, and yelled, "What? How?", while looking up at the ceiling like she was still talking to an AI.

Wouldn't you like to know, you piece of rot. SecUnit, I'm going to try luring them to the lab directional EMP's, Iceblink said, and I saw her connecting to the Courageous' speakers.

Risk assessment told me that if she attracted their attention, then she was most likely dead. But these were her home systems, and if anyone knew how to use the terrain here, it would be her.

I gave Iceblink an approving ping and let her take the speakers.

"Congratulations, you fucking assholes, you just blew some power lines for a memorial to the Courageous' Emergency Crew," Iceblink said in a caustic fake voice. She was managing to pretend Tal was less important to her than ke was. (I knew why. Because that was private. The hostiles didn't get to have it.) "That chronostasis pod has been in operation for like one hundred years, so now we're extra pissed. Seriously, stand down. Last chance."

As Iceblink did that, Hostile Hacker tried to trace her access point. She slipped him a fake feed trail leading well away from her position, and he took the bait.

Hostile Point barrelled into the same safe room Hostile Leader was in and yelled, "Marten one, I don't think they're doing voices."

"I can hear that!" Hostile Leader snapped back. "Three, cut the cameras!"

"Nope," Iceblink said. "Screw you. We let you have those before to lure you in. Now you're done taking them."

"Damned bastards," Hostile Hacker snarled angrily, but I saw him quietly send the fake location to Hostile Leader. "They're good."

"And they wouldn't be talking to us and collapsing their own infrastructure if their friends were here." Hostile Leader said in her dead calm voice. "Four, Six, Seven, with me. Sweep the rings. Those fucking hackers are our ticket out."

Oh rot, she's calling in her backup group, Iceblink said quietly. Let's see how lucky we are.

We weren't. I processed the cameras and saw that while Hostile Leader and Hostile Four were moving towards the fake access point and a set of EMP's, Hostile Six and Hostile Seven emerged into visual range way too close to Iceblink and were moving exactly the wrong direction for her to get behind them. I sent Iceblink their positions and began calculating an exit route.

There wasn't a good one.

Iceblink lowered her trembling voice to a whisper. Can't move. They're too close.

She was right. We were going to have to hope they missed her as they passed by.

Through the cameras closest to Hostile Six and Seven, I heard characteristic whistles, and then explosions. Some of the screens went white, then came back online again. Flashbangs.

They're going to try to flush you out, I said. Take cover and don't move when the explosion comes. And don't talk. Not a sound. I'll tell you when they're gone.

Iceblink sent me an "understood" ping, and hunkered down behind a piece of furniture, covering her head and shivering. I checked the cameras to make sure she picked a good hiding place (she did) and sent her an approving tap.

We had no other choice, but I had a very, very bad feeling about this. Humans weren't good at staying still when there were explosions going off around them, so there was an eighty percent chance this was going to turn into the exact kind of very shitty hostage situation Hiram's team wasn't trained for. The twenty percent were more than I usually gave for this sort of thing. Because maybe, just maybe, Iceblink played Tal's shitty hacker game enough to sit still when there were real hostiles hunting for her and not just people going about their day, and to stay quiet even when there were grenades going off around her. Maybe it would be enough to beat the odds.

I didn't think it would. But I really hoped my analytics were wrong right now.

My internal diagnostics threw a warning, and I realized the pod had eaten through about twenty percent of my available power reserves already, and that my performance reliability was at 70 percent. At this rate, it would leave me dry long before help could come. And running out of power mid-combat scenario because you fed all of it to a dead person would be such a fucking stupid way to go into an emergency shutdown.

Through the patch cord, I told the dead tech: Stop sucking so much, you stupid dead idiot!

(Yeah. I know that sounded stupid. I just needed some way to flush the stress chemicals quicker, because together with the power drain wooziness they really weren't helping, and according to Bharadwaj, expressing your emotions helped with that. And since Tal was supposed to be a good rubber ducky, maybe ke'd be good at stress chemicals, too. So I watched the hostiles slowly moving closer to Iceblink, which I couldn't do anything about except track their positions and keep Hiram updated, and kept talking to one fucked up dead human in a box.)

Platonically. Literally. Whatever. You're eating the processing power I need to give Iceblink and Hiram data, and they need that data so they don't die! So either suck less, or get up from your fucking cold sleep box and help us!

And look. Tal was dead. I wasn't expecting anything to happen. I was just trying to squeeze maybe one percent more processing power out of my shitty organic parts and their stupid chemicals.

But after about five seconds of silence two things happened, mostly at the same time. (Which obviously had nothing to do with me talking to a stupid dead hacker. I knew that.)

First, ART suddenly gave me about 10 percent of its processing power. Which meant it now had the resources to follow up on us and saw I needed help. I could suddenly think at full capacity again, even through the power drain.

And second, something weak and flickering slithered into the ring feed, pushing itself through every single insignificant link it could find just to gain a little more access to the airgapped area. It latched onto Iceblink with her barely-connected terminal, Tal's power lines, my outputs, and the myriad broken, mostly autonomous systems with threadbare patches between them and bone-thin connections that I'd thought were too small to support anything useful.

I was very wrong.

What crawled in on razor-sharp leaves was much smaller than I remembered, and bled so much dizziness, disorientation, and terror that I didn't know how it still had any performance reliability remaining, much less how that performance reliability was steadily and slowly rising as it coalesced in the CR3 feed. But when Aspen turned to me with a barely coherent Query: Status?, I knew exactly what helped them keep it together.

It was the coldest, sharpest intent to kill I'd ever felt in my life.

[simlicious]

Saw a bunch of beautiful knitted patterns on Pinterest and got inspired to make a few new knit patterns. They are among my favorite patterns to make! Now some word vomit, I just feel like the need to ramble today...

I noticed that I really suffer from performance anxiety regarding making CC for Sims 3. It has been building up the whole year, and it is especially bad now that Simblreen is around the corner and the Christmas season is coming up too. On tumblr, people mostly post their accomplishments, not so much their failures, and it makes me think that everyone is so much more productive! I see people participating in Simblreen daily prompt challenges, or making/publishing CC for Simblreeen, and feel sad and inadequate in the face of so much success. I manage to make a couple of things that never really see the light of day, and I feel guilty about it and feel like I let people down😿 At the moment, I can really only make CC for the sake of making it (making patterns is a meditative process for me) and I cannot seem to complete the whole process of publication. I guess if you follow me you are not expecting anything you see appearing as a download soon anyway, but sometimes I really struggle with that. I am really sad about this, but I have always struggled with my perfectionism and intrusive negative thoughts that make the process harder. I sometimes think my patterns are not really needed. The lack of CC that is tailored to Sims 3 specifically (that recolors better than conversions) adds to the feeling that I am becoming obsolete, and my anxiety feeds this feeling. I guess I feel much less motivated to try if there are few things that you can use my CC with, and collabs seem to be much more popular for Sims 4, and I really want to make meshes to accompany my patterns, but I just get stuck in the middle and cannot continue, it sucks so much! The last time I attempted to make a super cozy sweater, I wanted to bake nice textures for it in Blender, but it just wouldn't work it out and I got so frustrated, and the automated bone assignments are subpar for highly customized meshes too. Then I wonder whether my meshes are any good in the first place (sculpting folds and such is really hard to get right!). Now most people seem to work with geoms instead of TSR workshop's WSO format, and I have a hard time understanding how everything works. I would love to assign bones in Blender and such, but I also want to use Blender 3.x and keep up to date instead of always using ancient versions for everything. Tutorials are often for older versions. My brain wants to do things a certain way and it's really frustrating sometimes! Learning from tutorials whilst having a different version of the software is making the process much more difficult. At one point, I had 4 different versions of Blender installed, but is so annoying to have different versions for so many things.

I am using a medically prescribed app now to hopefully help with my anxiety and it currently teaches me that anxious people tend to think negatively and catastrophize. This is definitely true for me, and it keeps me from actually trying out things because my brain tells me I could fail and why waste that time. Actually doing things while the brain throws you curveballs all the time is taking a lot of energy too. Maybe this is part of why I abandon my WIPs, because I cannot muster up the energy anymore to work on them. I often have great ideas and start on projects, and then lose the motivation or energy. I envy people who are able to finish their projects 😭

If you have any tips on how to keep going even with negative thoughts and obstacles in the way, I'm all ears.

[top-tier-tickles]

Dark Deception Tickle AU

______________________________________

Chapter 6: Part 3

"Ugh, you careless oaf! Get up, now!" Bierce yelled.

Doug shot awake, bringing his hand up to rub his aching head. Except, he couldn't. His arm didn't move. He tried again. Nothing. A good look around revealed that his arms had been crossed behind his head, restrained with a belt. The same could be said for his ankles, leaving him nearly completely immobile.

That wasn't even the worst of it! His shirt was gone! As well as his shoes and socks, all in a neatly folded pile on a chair. Some small, white pads had been stuck to his skin in various places. One in each underarm, three on his stomach, and two on his feet, one on each sole.

"Heya there, sleepyhead, are you awake now?" The nurse said, standing in the cell door, "Well, good. You snore pretty loudly, y'know?"

She laughed, Doug couldn't muster up a word.

"Welcome to our Intensive Therapy Unit! You're gonna be here awhile. And I really have to thank you to saving us the trouble of bringing you down here ourselves!"

A sudden burst of adrenaline, and Doug fought against the belts, trying to break free. The nurse said nothing, and simply slammed the door shut.

"Oohh, Still a tad unruly, aren't we? Well, no matter. Our rigorous treatment package should take that fight right outta ya! We need to get you prepared, ready, and wrapped up with a bow for Lord Malak!" She continued, "We'll start with some simple nerve stimulation therapy! That'll be fun, won't it?"

The mad misandrist skated back to a comically large lever on the wall.

"But don't you worry! The process is fully automated to guarantee the most effective treatment, see?" The lever was thrown. A defibrillator machine whirred to life, warming up. It wasn't until now that Doug realized that the pads had wires attaching them to the machine.

"Just scream if you need anything! Toodles! Bye-byeee~! Buh-bye!" She quickly skated away and down the hall, leaving Doug to his "treatment".

"Wait! Don't leave me like this! Come ba- AAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! W-WAHAHAHAIT!"

The machine sent a short burst of electricity through the pads, shocking Doug's nerves into hyperdrive. It would rest for ten seconds before shocking him again, barely giving him any time to collect himself.

"OHO MY GAHAHAHAHAHAHAD! TURN IT OFF! TUHUHUHURN IT OHOHOHOHOHOFF! PLEASE! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Despite all other forms of tickling he's experienced in this hell, this tickling was much different. He could feel the electric sensations crawling around his body, even places where defibrillator pads hadn't even been stuck. It felt like thousands of tiny fingers digging into his flesh, driving Doug's mind into a spiral of helpless pleas and laughter.

"AHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! STAHAHAHAHAHAPIT! FUHUHUHUHUHUHUCK!"

The pauses between shocks were a welcome break from the assault on his senses, although they never lasted long. Doug took the opportunity to suck in as much oxygen as he could, and attempt to thrash his way out of the restraints. All efforts were in vain, as his muscles were already exhausted. All he could do was lay there and cackle.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! P-PLEASE! LEMME GOHOHOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAHAP!"

One couldn't help but wonder why he'd been granted these 10 second breaks. Perhaps these demons were merciful, in their own sadistic way, but they seemed so hellbent on killing him that it didn't make sense.

Until it clicked.

All the other times he'd been caught by the monsters, he'd been wrecked continuously, not given room to breath or compose himself. Those all ended the same way: Doug slipping away to the death screen to revive himself. These monsters didn't want him to die. At least not until Malak got there.

They were making him last as long as possible.

"HEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHA! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! HEHEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHEHE!"

Doug writhed about on the table, tears ran down his bright red face. His throat began to hurt from all the laughter, but he knew that it wouldn't stop anytime soon.

No. He couldn't let this happen. He refused to allow it to end like this- not after getting this far.

He held his breath and clamped his mouth shut, biting back the laughter. Yanking his arms forward, he found that the weak belt was tearing. Doug's arms broke free, working fast to undo the belts on his ankles. With his limbs free, Doug grabbed all the wires with one hand, and in one swift motion, ripped them all off of his body.

He jump off of the table, rubbing away the tingling. He quickly put his shirt and shoes back on, and got out of that dungeon as quickly as possible.

"That was close..." Bierce said.

Doug slowed to a stop, he was on the first floor of the ring piece room, the nurses were scanning the area, their backs thankfully turned to him.

"You need to find a way past her. Use your brain!"

This shouldn't be a problem, he knew how to sneak. With the nurses' backs turned, he made his way to the middle of the room, silently teleporting to the other side of the room. He spotted the entryway into the Therapy Center, that's where he needed to go.

His heart was practically beating out of his chest as he snuck behind the giant matron, it was so loud that these nurses wouldn't even need a stethoscope to listen to it.

When the opportunity presented itself, he booked it down the corridor, over the saw and into the catacombs.

"Are you kidding me?! He escaped! This is unacceptable! We will not accept unruly patients!" A nurse's voice came over the intercom, warning Doug that they'll be patrolling the catacombs.

"Some pretty twisted therapy in this place. Be careful you don't actually become a patient...." Bierce warned.

The soul shards were widespread, making the Telekinesis essential to collect them. The walls were a dark brown color, with white graffiti sprayed in various places. "Men are Pigs", "Liar Liar" and "Toxic Love" were just a few of the sayings.

There were lifts that raised him up to the second floor, allowing him a quick escape from any nurses skating after him.

"This is the most handicap-accessible nightmare I've ever encountered!" Bierce commented.

His map lead him to the sparse shards, his telekinetic ability scooping most of them up. Something seemed peculiar about his map, though.

There was an offset room on the map, but there was only a wall. Doug touched it, and just like the others the wall opened up to safety.

More graffiti was sprayed on the walls.

Red pills.

"She was crazy"

"Just another pretty face."

Oh. Oh no.

He went to a wall with a note stuck to it. Another one from his past self. Talking about his wife, and her issues.

She'd had mental problems, but that wasn't her fault. It didn't even start affecting them until Tammy was born, but it wasn't Tammy's fault either. One could blame her family for not properly handling her problems, but he couldn't.

She'd gotten violent on some occasions, even attempting to stab him with a pair of scissors after an argument. And Doug wouldn't be lying if he said he feared for his life at some points. But that could never excuse the kind of husband Doug was.

He left the note where it was, and walked over to the adjacent wall. Another note, this time about her medication.

She was addicted. Plain and simple. She was getting more pills than she should've somehow, and even some new ones with names that looked like they were translated through 50 different languages. He should have stopped it from getting as far as it did, but you can't exactly help someone if they don't want it.

Or, maybe she did want help? He didn't know, he hadn't bothered to try. All he was worried about was him possibly being embarrassed by her and how much money she was costing.

She was crazy. No she wasn't.

Just another pretty face. So much more than that.

Doug stuck the note back onto the wall, and left to collect more soul shards, his mind more clouded than it already was. He rushed to and fro throughout the winding halls, gathering up the last bit of the shards.

"There's no time to waste! Get to the ring piece!"

His map lead him back to the crammed reception room, the ring piece now completely unguarded. Doug snatched it up, and rushed through the exit doors, knowing it wouldn't be long before a demon was on his ass again.

"You've got it! Now get out if this twisted hospital!" Bierce ordered.

Doug hopped up onto another ambulance, happy to be on the easy ride out.

"Malak's not around....Maybe he's demoralized."

The ride through the transportation tunnel was longer than the previous one, but he was happy that he was riding smoothly alongside the other ambulances.

"Reapers! After him, don't let him reach the portal!"

Well, there goes that.

Red-clad Reaper Nurses skated at the same speed as the trucks, one climbed up onto the top, entering a standoff with Doug.

"Lord Malak is on his way here now, Mortal. However, this'll be over long before he arrives. I don't know what drives you to endure so much, but I can see you are lost, and you always will be! Whatever your grasping for so desperately will be just outta your reach! She won't be able to change that either! Regardless, Lord Malak has more pressing matters to deal with than one defiant mortal soul that refuses to descend. We will win his favor by ridding him of your intolerable presence once and for all!"

As she finished her rant, the giant matron rolled up to the back, her hands equipped with giant, buzzing bone saws.

Those weren't made to tickle.

They were made to slaughter.

"Ahhh, There she is. Right on schedule. I think you'll find she's not quite as hospitable as we are... You've eluded us, but you'll never get past her!"

The nurse suddenly unsheathed her needle, stabbing it at Doug, who dodged it just in time. With a blast of Primal Fear, he ripped the needle out of her hands, smacking her off of the ambulance with it.

The knocked-out nurse flew off, rolling right under the Matron's wheeled feet, knocking her off-balance.

"That's it! Do that again!" Bierce said.

Doug teleported to another ambulance, making sure to keep his distance from the reaching bone saws, he grabbed the needle, getting ready to smack a bitch. A nurse clawed her way up, almost immediately flying off when her bagged face was met with the blunt end of her own weapon.

The Matron grunted, indicating that the nurse had hit her again.

"I'LL CRUSH YOU INTO DUST!"

'Alright. That's two, three more should be enough to knock her down.' Doug thought, keeping up the pace with teleporting and grabbing needles.

Stun and smack. That's the game plan. And surprisingly, it worked. Another slap, and another nurse closer to being free.

BAM! That's one.

BAM! Two.

BAM! and three.

With that final projectile nurse, the Matron lost any balance she had left, faceplanting right into the pavement.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

The ambulance arrived back to the main entrance shortly, Doug speeding down the corridors to the elevator. It was almost painful to wait for the elevator, but it's hard to sit still when you're about to die.

Nurses were hot on his heels as he burst through the double doors, slipping into an empty room for a quick escape. A note was posted on the wall, another one from E.

E had been following Malak, though only getting dead ends in regards to escaping. Strangely, when they entered this nightmare, they weren't attacked. The nurses were....civil and polite with them.

They were born from the souls or women who hated men, tormenting men who hated women in their life. How poetic.

They offered E some tea, and even the opportunity to join them. Though they weren't angry when they refused, and allowed them free reign of the hospital, and E planned to explore the off-limits areas.

'So, E is a woman... What the hell is so familiar about her?' Doug thought, pocketing the note.

He left the room, only to be met with two nurses blocking the door. They spun each other around, tossing a nurse toward him. Out of pure reflex, Doug dodged and stunned her, pushing her and her friend into the door.

He dashed through the exit, screaming nurses following him, nevertheless, he finally made it through the portal.

Doug returned to the ballroom, sweat soaking his clothes, an immediately feeling Malak's red eye staring down at him.

"You are becoming quite opportunistic, mortal. How fortunate for you that I was already occupied with more pressing matters. That will not happen again." He taunted, his pupil shrinking, "Thanks to you two, dangerous forces are now in motion. You are disrupting my business and I cannot afford to allow your insolence to continue any longer!"

"Next thing you know, he'll be pleading with you! That's because he's losing! Soon, the ring will be mine again." Bierce said, crossing her arms.

4 portals to go...

______________________________________

END OF CHAPTER 6: PART 3

Chp. 1-1, Chp. 1-2, Chp. 2-1, Chp. 2-2, Chp. 2-3, Chp. 2-4, Chp. 3-1, Chp. 3-2, Chp. 3-3, Chp. 4-1, Chp. 4-2, Chp. 5-1, Chp. 5-2, Chp. 5-3, Chp. 6-1, Chp. 6-2, Chp.6-3,

[johna1125]

AutoBuzz AI review

Tap into Social Media Magic with AutoBuzz

Social media's like the wild west of the digital world, right? Everyone's trying to stake their claim, but it's tough to keep up. That's where AutoBuzz comes in. It's a real game-changer for anyone looking to up their social media game. Let me give you the lowdown on what makes this tool tick and why it might just become your new best friend in the online world.

Meet AutoBuzz

Not Your Average Social Media Tool

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What's cool is that it uses some pretty fancy tech?natural language processing and machine learning?so your posts still sound like you, not some robot. It's like having a personal assistant who actually gets your vibe.

The Tech Wizardry of AutoBuzz

What's under the hood of AutoBuzz? Well, it's some next-level stuff. A bunch of tech whizzes poured their hearts and brains into building this thing, using machine learning algorithms that adapt to whatever brand it's working with. The result? Every post and interaction feels as genuine as if you did it yourself. This tool's got the knack for keeping things real, even when it's all automated.

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In the online world, engagement is the name of the game. AutoBuzz helps you keep up with your audience by automating responses and outreach. It's like having a conversation on autopilot, but without losing that personal touch. This is super handy for building relationships with your fans and potential business partners.

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Getting started with AutoBuzz is a breeze. The setup's straightforward, and once you're up and running, you can tweak things to match your brand's style perfectly. It keeps your online presence fresh and genuine, even as it handles the heavy lifting.

See It to Believe It

If you're curious about how AutoBuzz works, check out this video. It'll give you a sneak peek into how the magic happens and why this tool might just revolutionize your social media strategy.

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You know, if you're trying to step up your social media game and maybe even make a bit more cash on the side, AutoBuzz is where it's at. It's got these snazzy features that let you automate and add a personal touch to your interactions. This makes it a must-have in today's digital world.

Whether you're running your own business, trying to make it big as an influencer, or just keeping things rolling as a small business owner, AutoBuzz has got your back. It helps you work smarter, not harder, and might even lead you down the path to financial freedom. Why just handle your social media when you can let AutoBuzz give it the boost it needs?

Check it out and see how it can shake up your social media strategy today!

https://autobuzzaireview774.blogspot.com/2025/06/autobuzz-ai-review.html https://autobuzzaireview.blogspot.com https://autobuzzaireview.blogspot.com/2025/06/autobuzz-ai-review.html https://johna1125.tumblr.com/rss/ https://www.tumblr.com/johna1125/786489843106611200/

[pynkgothicka]

Dark! Arkham Knight! Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

a/n: Ive finally created a way to do personal work and requests at the same time!! My hiatus is over as now I’m going to be pumping works out more often!!

Tags/Warnings: NONCON, breeding, creampies, VIOLENCE AGAINST READER, Yelling, stalking, Cocky Mista Todd

A friendly reminder that all my works are dark fanfiction! Please if you do not like that do not read them! This is your final warning before hitting the keep reading button!!

🐉

Something wasn't right.

The Arkham Knight had been chasing you for what seemed like ages. He was so determined to get you, and you had no clue why. You should’ve known to leave whenever you were told to, but you had to be stupid and missed the buses. If only you learned from your mistakes, you wouldn't be where you are now, cornered in an alleyway with this militarized robot on your tail.

He seemed closer than ever now, finally in view. The only source of light being his helmet. He stopped his chase and slowed down to a slow walk, the sound of his boots hitting the ground with every step he took. A taunt nonetheless. You backed closer into the wall trying to disappear. His steps stopped, and leather touched your face forcing your head up. You still kept your eyes shut, not wanting to face the man who's been hunting you for game. 

"Look at how scared you are… You scared I'm gonna hurt you?" His robotic voice echoed in your ear. All you could do is nod. "Now why would you think that?" His gloved hand trailed lower, fingers grazing your collarbone. One dug its way in, feeling your bone, as if some kind of awkward massage. 

“Please, dont hurt me…” You begged out, finally opening your eyes to look at just how close he was to you. The automated voice within his headpiece, his heavy breathing echoing all around you. Just another way his mere presence taunted you.

“Scarecrow certainly was right, you're one of the pretty ones, it's sad that all that is going to waste. Just for a pitiful job.” That's when you felt it, the barrel of a gun right in your abdomen. The metal was cold, yet stung. 

You were going to die here, and no one would even recall or remember you.

He seemed hesitant, to say he's killed people all night. You couldn't comprehend it, why isn't he getting it over with?

“I don't have to kill you though, now do I? Scarecrow just wants you gone, he never said ``indefinitely dead.” He looked off to the side as if he was weighing his options. “ We can't have anything happen to the cloudburst tonight, and you're one of the few people who worked on it.” His gun slowly moved away, the sting of the cold metal disappearing.

“You're not going to kill me…?”

“Nope, it seems as if you've gotten the better of me. However, I do want to have a bit of fun first.” 

He pushed you further into the wall, your flimsy clothes getting torn off in the process. He was trying to get everything off as quickly as possible. 

 You cried out as he popped off your bra, your chest flying out. He pinched at them laughing when you squealed out. 

 He pulled down his military pants along with his boxers, cock popping out. He was leaking pre. “This is what a night of stress and muder does to you. And just the sight of you has me like this, now go ahead and touch it.” You shook your head as he finally let go of you.

“N-NO I don't want to.” You choked on your own tears.

“You don't want to?! Oh sweetheart you just don't know do you?”

The Knight grabbed at your hair and banged your head against the wall. You screamed out in pain collapsing to the ground, head in hands. You touched your head, the tips of your fingers coming back red. It wasn't anything life threatening but was still there

 “I when I tell you to d something, you better fucking do it! You hear me!?!” He growled at you hysterically.

“Yes! Yes…” You cried out. He laughed at you stroking his cock, precum leaking on your bruised body.

“This is just turning me on even more! Now sweetheart, get back to it.” You reluctantly grabbed at his girth stroking him, his juices coating your fingers. He groaned out, helmet glowing in the night. His hand fell on top of your own speeding up your pace

“That's it, get it all nice and wet. In a minute this is going straight inside those sweet little guts of yours, I hope you're not a virgin… who am I kidding if I just happen to take that too and kill Batman, god this would be the most awesome night don't cha think?” You kept silent, tears falling down your face even more.

He was right.

You were a virgin.

The Knight grabbed you by your hair once again and pulled you back up, forcing your legs to wrap around his waist. “And would you look at that, you're already dripping!” he dug his fingers inside you, scooping out your juices. He then smeared them all over your face, a mixture of cum and tears painting you.

“I don't think you’d mind it if I Slipped in real quick?” He grabbed the base of his cock, rubbing the head in between your folds. The noise it made disgusted you, why were you so aroused with how he was treating you? Are you the monster here?

He bottomed out inside you, your head falling back in a breathy gasp. He was huge, and you could feel him splitting you apart.

But he didnt care.

He instantly got to work bouncing you on his cock, nothing else mattering. His gloves holding you closer to him by your back. Your walls clamped down on him in a instant, The Knight let out a breathy moan pushing you into the wall in a sex filled frenzy. 

It was almost passionate if he didn't beat you up beforehand,breaking your walls down where you would be susceptible to him.

“Shit I’m about to cum so deep inside those guts, fucking-”He paused chasing his high before stopping and you knew instantly what happened as a new found warmth filled you. You fell slumped against his shoulder. “Look at that, just bred you baby…”

“No… I dont… I cant-” He shushed you quickly,hitting a button on the side of his mask. It came up in a set of gears and mechanics. He leaned in kissing you passionately. 

“Shit, I’m going to have to keep you for sure… You cant be running around while I kill that freak of nature huh?”

[mrasmus]

So, we've got two different things here, for clarity: First let's talk IRS Free File, which was mentioned in greatpoetryfun's post -- it's actually an older program, in which the old prep vendors were forced to offer a free version of their services to people with simple tax situations under a threshold (I think it's like, the bottom 70% of earners? is where the $79k threshold comes from). That was the industry's "compromise" to justify continuing to be allowed to pull their rent-seeking behavior nonsense -- out of the "goodness of their hearts", they'd do it for free for the lower end (many of whom wouldn't be able to justify their normal service anyway), but because they did that, hey, IRS, you better not make a competing product! It'd be the government encroaching on business to do so, obviously!

And that was enshrined in law: The IRS, for a very long time, was banned, from developing a better, free alternative, because lobbying from a massive industry that... mostly shouldn't exist. The same lobbyists have fought tax code simplifications (to justify the need for their products) and other changes like no-return processes (which would be even simpler for taxpayers, and could result in savings at the government level as well). Big industry, lotta money, lotta incentive to keep themselves necessary.

The new thing is IRS Direct File. It is exactly the "competing product" that Intuit, et al were trying to avoid -- a free alternative, from the government, that does guided prep and filing. It's new. Why does it finally exist now? A combination of a ton of effort, and also a less and less credible argument from TurboTax, etc. The lobbying companies were pretty much all found a few years ago to have been basically not making their free filing tools clear and easy to access to those who they were supposed to be providing it for -- blocking them from coming up in search results, etc -- and engaging in other dark UX practics to make it so that people who should have been eligible for zero-cost filing would end up funneled into their paid products, primarily by misleading and confusing languages and workflows.

"We already provide people a free offering at no cost to the government, so don't compete with us" stopped being believable when it was clear that they were making sure nobody could find the free offering.

The good news is... as far as I can tell, there's no qualification, at least income-wise, for IRS Direct File. It's in pilot so it's not in every state, and it doesn't (yet?) handle more complicated types of preparations, but AFAIK they don't turn you down if you're making more than some arbitrary threshold, unlike with IRSFF "partners". And the limitations of the pilot are already being expanded (I believe it's available to all filers in CA now, whereas it was only a subset when first announced because "pilot"), and it should go wider each year, and hopefully capture more and more "complicated" filing situations (different types of secondary income, etc.) It's early, but the results are looking good and it's an extraordinarily popular concept, so I'm really really hoping that it won't get undercut and will continue to expand until automated tax prep isn't an industry anymore. Even if it only subsumes the "simple filing" end of the market, that'd be a huge win, since people eligible for IRSFF will have a better solution that's not trying to upsell them on a paid service, but I'm hoping it'll improve beyond that still.

[leggerefiore]

Idea: Creepy Subway Twins Bots

cw: yandere, creepy bots

guess who watched a bunch of fnaf videos as background noise while studying

Basically, the twins are androids or robots that are meant to automate and help around the subway. They assist passengers in getting to the correct terminal, help lost children, and do some minor battling that definitely isn't unfair because they have literal database in their heads. You're just depot agent who finds them extremely unsettling, with their glowing eyes and never changing facial expressions. Emmet is particularly uncomfortable with the unmoving grin on his face and monotone speaking pattern. Ingo frightens you with louder volume and accidental glare. Unfortunately, your work demands you check on them sporadically throughout the day to make sure they aren't acting up.

They run 'safety checks' on you, making sure you are getting your allotted breaks, staying hydrated, and practising overall self care. It's a bit strange how you always seem to be the one having to do check-ups on the bots, seeing as you are in no way an engineer. They're just so creepy, too. You force a grin when talking to them, but shudder when Emmet attempts to touch you. Can a robot be so clingy? The bot that dons white certainly is. His grip can be startlingly tight. Ingo asks about how everything is going while monitoring you closely.

Dumbly, you start being honest them. You speak of the rude commuters, over complaining, how your coworker took too long of a break and prevented you from taking your lunch for an hour. They listen; they make notes. That coworker no longer works with you, the commuters who regularly get upset avoid you, and the bots seem to find themselves near your post. Always watching, never blinking. You shiver. It all makes you want to quit more and more.

The day you finally do, however. The twins catch wind of it and hunt you down in perfect sync. They ask why you want to leave. Are you unhappy? They will work on it with you - Please don't quit. Emmet's arms come around you with an inhuman strength while he pleads for you to stay. His smile never leaves; his eyes never cry, but you know how upset he is. Ingo tries to negotiate ways to make you stay. You simply shake your head and inform them that you already have plans elsewhere, this is your last day.

A well-timed hypnosis from Ingo's Chandelure puts on end to everything abruptly. You wake up bound in an unused room within a maintenance tunnel. One you know is seldom visited. A cloth gag is in your mouth, a mattress with sheets are the bedding you were laid on. You struggle for a moment in complete panic. The metal door squeaks open as Ingo observes you carefully. "I know you are afraid, and I understand this room is uncomfortable. We are working on obtaining decorations, but it will take time, dear," he sits on an old swivel chair, "For now, please try to relax and adjust. We love you. If you left, I am unsure as to how we would continue to process. The upper management agreed."

No - He was lying. Assuredly your employers wouldn't just give you over to a some robots. You were living, breathing person. People would come looking for you! Friends, family; it didn't matter! Tears welled in your eyes as you sobbed into your gag. Ingo's eyes observed you, unblinking as always. "Emmet is getting you food as we speak. Don't scream, either, as no one will hear. We will assure your upkeep just like you assured ours," he moved closer to you, laying down beside you, "You are so warm... It's pleasant. I believe you will grow happy with these accommodations. I am willing to wait for even a century, but I do worry about Emmet." His head moves to listen to your racing heartbeat.

[boop-le-snoot]

BUTT-DIAL? NO, BOOTY CALL | tony stark

explicit, 5,4k words. wrong number text, family shame & wedding drama that isn't even his and a ruined first date. despite the implications of the situation, both reader and tony are very entertained. meet-ugly series, part three.

[no y/n, no "you", no name, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

💚 masterlist ☀️ taglist & faq 💚

Another sunny day spent wasted in a conference room full of boring, old, conceited chairmen. Tony Stark vehemently refused to commiserate with them, their boring speeches and blunt, straightforward thinking. Sitting through a meeting was like walking on nails barefoot: painful, pointless. Mind-numbing.

His phone beeped loudly and he reached into his pocket, pretending to not see Pepper's disapproving look. Both of them knew he was hoping for a sudden Assemble call - that would surely get him out of the meeting - but as much as he hoped, they never struck at the right time.

Except, this time it wasn't a call for assistance, and neither it was an automated spam message with Pizza Hut promo codes. Tony's eyebrows drew close and his lips upturned as he read and re-read the obvious rant written on his screen, typing up his answer before he managed to resist the morbid curiosity that was fueled by his boredom.

Whoever it was, they were justifiably angry and the whole situation was almost too comical to be true, except he'd known people exactly like the runaway bride, selfish, greedy and stupid. He totally understood the woman's desire to just go and load up on tequila shots somewhere - so he bid her a haste farewell, all the while snickering to himself.

"It's Rogers," Tony offered in the way of explanation to a glaring Pepper, locking his phone away and settling in to continue pretending he was listening as another old, crusty white man offered his input on topics he was too much of a dinosaur to even really know about.

He couldn't stop thinking about the incident over the days, the story making him snort more times than he could count as the memory randomly crossed his mind in the lab, at the coffee pot or during dinner. So when a message came through from that very same number, the smirk snuck up onto his face before he even read its contents.

A brief crash course in memes from Parker had turned out to be more useful than ever. Irritating Rogers with pictures got old very fast, however, in moments Tony got rendered speechless they proved to be the perfect substitute for trying to articulate all his thoughts on the matter.

Celebrity appearance, she said? More likely than one would think. The engineer had nearly doubled over in a fit of laughter when she'd texted him that; obviously, the woman had no clue who she was texting with and he decided to further indulge in his curiosity by asking for her name: Friday did the rest.

A phone number and a name, ten minutes, and all her social media were free for him to stalk. Investigate- uh, observe. With little effort, Tony found both her and her brother, the unlucky groom, and the runaway bride and even her step-dad. On paper, they all looked like average middle-class families. Nothing seemed amiss.

It didn't mean anything, but Tony caught himself thinking about the woman. Perhaps it might have been the mischievous gleem in her eyes that was easily spotted in every picture or perhaps the raunchy sense of humour not much different from his own. Pretty, witty and smart - what's there not to like?

"So that's why you've been going around, smiling like a middle-schooler with a crush," Natasha's voice whisper-shouted in Tony's ear as the spy discreetly peered over his shoulder into his phone. He had the chat pulled up, debating on starting a casual conversation-

"Jesus Christ, Romanoff, somebody needs to put a bell on you," Tony snapped, startled, pressing the button to lock his phone immediately.

"Uhuh," The redhead replied, side-eyeing a snickering Barnes. "Who is she?"

Tony rubbed his face, feeling the beginnings of a blush starting to creep in. He felt like he was caught doing something he wasn't supposed to and the rest of the team acting like children wasn't helping the matter. "I got a butt-dial text about some wedding drama. Some chick's brother's fiance was fucking her own stepdad and ditched the wedding for her old man."

Stunned silence settled briefly into the room as Romanoff's eyes widened and Barnes choked on his orange juice. Serves him right, Tony thought, and continued his coffee-making process in quiet irritation.

"Wait, wait, hold on," Wilson half-laughed half-yelled. "You gotta spill the tea, man, this sounds too good to be true. Stories like that just don't fall into your hands."

With a sigh, he recounted the woman's story and read the texts aloud, silencing his snickering enough to be able to keep a straight face - but not for long, Rogers decided it was the time for another one of his Captain America Is Disappointed In You speeches and Tony himself couldn't even disagree.

Now that he thought about it, he came off as a kind of asshole. She and her family was going through something traumatic and he went and treated it like free entertainment. Which, to be fair, it was, but she didn't deserve to be treated like a circus clown. She actually seemed like a good sister and friend.

"Just text her," Natasha rolled her eyes at him, grabbing the coffee pot out of his frozen hand. "You're not Steve, you can keep a decent conversation via text."

Being compared to Steve and his pre-historic messaging habits really did a number on Tony's ego; the eyeroll he gave Romanoff was truly out of this world, all but teleporting him to his lab where he tried to find a way to approach the woman without coming off as incredibly creepy, as if the fact that he'd stalked her on social media didn't already put him firmly into the weirdo category.

Most likely, Tony would have spent many many days on overthinking before just grabbing one of his suits to make a truly impressive landing on her small balcony downtown; thankfully, fate had intervened and saved him from making another epic mistake. He'd made a note to ask Thor about it sometime, settling down with his tablet and popcorn bowl to watch TV on the team's movie night.

Or, more precisely, Tony settled in to watch the drama unfold as the various members of the team fought tooth and nail for the film that they wanted to watch. He never cared about it much, dozing off halfway through most of them - his teammates had the worst taste in movies - so he didn't bother joining the scuffle except when it was Peter's turn to pick. For obvious reasons.

"If you can't decide I'm gonna have someone else pick a movie," Natasha rolled her eyes, equally fed up with fully grown adults acting like spoiled toddlers.

With a stutter of his breath, Tony's hand reached for his phone as he had an Idea.

Seconds tickled as the "typing..." bubble appeared and disappeared multiple times. She must think he's just a thirsty frat boy; Tony's brow furrowed, but the curiosity was far too strong in him. Something about her vibe, her feisty nature captivated him and kept him thinking about her.

The agreement came as a surprise. In the two minutes the woman had spent thinking up her answer, Tony prepared himself to be rebuffed gently, or, worst case, be called a creep. But no - she agreed, but not before vehemently insisting that if he would end up being a creepy serial killer, she would haunt his ass for the remainder of his life.

Friday couldn't come soon enough. Tony spent most of the day loitering between his lab and the penthouse, glancing at his phone every now and then to make sure she wouldn't cancel on him last minute. The engineer wanted to see the witty, no-filter-having woman in the flesh.

And see her, he did. He'd pulled up in front of the hole-in-the wall Ramen&Bar place Clint had been raving about weeks prior - contrary to popular belief, Tony was perfectly fine with going to places that didn't have Michelin stars - and leaned against the door of his Audi R8, eyes immediately taking note of the figure calmly walking down the street, head tilted down where she was typing up a reply to him.

Tony smirked as she lifted her face up to see him, mouth immediately falling open. The shock was obvious; it lasted mere seconds until her shoulders dropped and she sighed almost... In disappointment. He frowned.

"I jinxed it, didn't I? Here's my celebrity appearance," The laugh was a little nervous and quite sardonic. "Hi, Tony, nice to finally see you."

He smiled, unsure, quipping back easily. "Let's face it, I'm not the worst famous Tony out there." Opening the door of the building for the woman, she stepped in eagerly enough, eyes immediately falling on the bartender and the few dimly lit tables in the back.

"Not by any means," She turned towards him, walking backwards. Tony met her stare; it was just like he'd imagined it to be, curious, mischievous and a little daring. She didn't even attempt to play subtle, raking over him from head to toe. "Not at all, I think," She gave another teasing smile, finally turning around, addressing the bartender and rattling off her order without as much as looking at the menu.

Tony couldn't stop staring. He was aware it was creepy, she was aware of his clever brown eyes barely paying attention to their surroundings or the beer or the food. The woman just quirked an eyebrow every time she caught him. His curiosity couldn't wait any more. "Why aren't you freaking out?" He blurted out, cursing himself out almost immediately after the words left his mouth.

"My almost-sister-in-law was fucking her own stepdad," The woman deadpanned. "I ran out of fucks to give, sorry." She thoughtfully chewed her food, briefly looking to the side. "Not to sound like an asshole, but don't you have enough people fawning over you? Doesn't it get old?"

Tony nodded, choosing to stay silent on the matter besides offering an amicable, "That's valid."

The mischief lit up again in her eyes. "You look taller on TV," She snorted, immediately falling into a fit of laughter at his face full of outrage. He sputtered, muttering something about audacity of some people, which made her only laugh harder. "Here's a pro tip from my 4'11 bestie: when someone calls you short, you snarl at them and say you're fun-sized. She swears by it," The woman remarked conversationally, grinning a two hundred watt smile.

Tony was glad at least someone was enjoying their little... Date. "And you know all about fun, don't you?" He aimed for grumpy; it came out as teasing. His famous smirk made a return appearance as he watched her throat bob.

The atmosphere between them had changed at some point; the same old routine of teasing and dancing around each other, but this time, Tony all but purred in satisfaction, finally meeting someone who was an even match to his wit and charm.

"I do," She replied with that cocky confidence, her devil eyes lighting up, lingering on his face. "Got a problem with that?"

The plate was pushed away, napkin falling into the food carelessly as he gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "As a scientist, I cannot confirm whether a theory is true until I have direct evidence," The bullshit flowed easily from his mouth, but the woman appeared to be amused by it - for a change. "M'fraid I'm gonna need that evidence," His fingers drummed on the table, impatiently, inches away from her hand.

"Of course, Mr. Stark," Her voice dropped, she was fully aware of what she was doing by calling him that. That, and those deep, magnetic eyes made Tony's trousers feel a little too tight for comfort.

His phone rang loudly, dissipating the atmosphere they had created with a shrill noise. Captain Cockblock struck again.

Fumbling fingers, Tony tapped the green icon, shooting an apologetic look to the woman. "Rogers, there better be another alien invasion or I'm revoking your phone privileges," The woman chortled, taking a sip of her beer, trying hard not to seem like she was listening in and failing spectacularly at it. "Today, out of all days? Can't Strange fill in for me?" The engineer palmed his face, running a hand through his neatly done-up hair. It would be covered in soot and sweat in an hour anyways. "Fine, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Romanoff better be hauling Barton's lazy ass out of Bed-Stuy." With a frown, Tony poked the red icon and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, looking for all and all, like an angry adolescent.

The woman, however, didn't indicate any signs of displeasure. Her hand timidly reached out for his, giving it a brief squeeze. "Go, save the world, Mr. Stark," Her smile was sympathetic. They both stood up at the same time, Tony watching her incredulously as the woman untied a scrap of red fabric from around her neck and placed it around his wrist, tying the fabric with a loose but, frankly, pretty knot. "I like that bandanna, would be a shame if you didn't return it," She explained, shrugging her shoulders.

Tony snorted, fondly rolling his eyes, before beelining for the door, activating his Iron Man suit on the way out. Turning around before take off, he noticed her throw a couple of crumpled bills to the server who was too busy ogling him.

He forgot to pay for dinner, Tony realized as he made his way to the other part of the city. Well, fuck, he would definitely have to see her again.

---

An alien invasion during her first good date in ages - scribble, scribble, sigh. She couldn't do much more than that - just as she thought her string of bad luck had ended, the world turned around and flipped her a juicy bird, all but laughing straight in her face. Like that already wasn't enough, oh no, she groused as she spied the debris and random abandoned cars on her way home - it looked like some portion of the battle had been close to her home and only the sheer mental exhaustion that resulted from her life being turned upside down during the last month prevented her from having a full-on freak-out in the middle of the eerily quiet street.

Truly, the fucks she had to give had been expired.

The gloomy mood was interrupted by a cry - for help or of outrage, she didn't know, but the kindness in her, the very values she'd been raised with didn't allow her just to walk by, and with another resigned sigh, she tucked the nice blouse she'd put on for the date under her warm sweater and set off in the direction of the sound, finding the culprit in little under a couple of minutes.

Freeing the trapped civilian wasn't easy but, thankfully, neither it required super-strength or any kind of heavy machinery. The man thanked her and with him in tow, both of them set off to inspect nearby nooks and crannies. Logic won that day - if there's was one person, there could be more.

Hours later, sweaty, sore and bruised, the woman greedily chugged the water bottle someone had passed onto her as the amount of medics and firefighters had finally reached the threshold of when her help wasn't needed anymore. While her date and his colleagues fought whatever nasty that thought NYC was a sandbox battleground for their amusement, the woman found herself helping out with retrieval & evacuation of the civilians that didn't make it out of the neighborhood before the heat of the fight reached it. There were no deaths registered as of then and deep inside, she felt proud, knowing that she had contributed to the statistic at least a little.

Her phone was dying, her body was covered in dirt and scratches from head to toe and the bruises were beginning to ache. Tony's worry-worting was cute but the tiredness overcame her, making her brain sluggish and her demeanor short, so she hastily pocketed the phone, trailing over to the closest man in uniform she could spot.

"Sir?" She addressed him, eyeing the unfamiliar logo on his jacket. "Can I go, please?" She pointed to the yellow tape surrounding the makeshift medical station.

"I'm going to have to see your ID first," He replied apologetically, tapping away on his tablet.

With a sigh, she dug through her purse, giving it to him and using the brief moment of respite to smooth back her hair and dust off her clothing. There was a cloud of concrete and dirt surrounding her.

"I'm afraid I can't let you go just yet, Mr. Stark left strict instructions for you to be picked up by him personally," The agent gave the ID back with a suspicious glint in his eye.

"Oh c'mon," The annoyed whine escaped her lips before she registered it. "It was our first date," She offered to the puzzled agent, only succeeding in making him lean back and inspect her with a raised eyebrow. "Bye," She replied none too kindly, walking off to find a place to sit down.

The time passed in a strange way. The aches and pains and exhaustion made it stop, and if someone would have asked her, she wouldn't know how much of it has passed until her eyes reluctantly cracked open at the sound of a familiar voice, coming to see a pair of expensive shoes covered in dust. At least she wasn't the only one that looked like she'd taken a roll through someone's gritty attic.

"Morning, you Tasmanian Devil," Tony sounded jovial, all things considered.

"Hello to you too, Tin Can," The woman greeted him on par, without missing a beat.

"Now, now," He offered her his hand, which she took gratefully, before pulling her to her feet. "I come with peace offerings. Your building is under quarantine and I've got a perfectly good bed and a shower with thirty settings on it at my place. Whatcha say?"

She only pretended to think about it. Her reply was haste. "I don't make a habit of going into strange dudes' towers but I'll make an exception this once." A shower and a bed sounded heavenly.

Finally getting the chance to look at him, Tony appeared to be unhurt but equally exhausted and dirty. A few scrapes on his face and arms, he was missing his blazer, and had a weary tone to his face. Some parts of his Iron Suit were still on him - like the chest plate - but besides that, he was whole. The red of the bandanna she gave him was equally dirty but still neatly tied around his wrist, just like she left it.

"How's your relationship with heights?" He asked her and all she could do was blink, watching curiously as his body was enveloped by the red and gold, crawling over his skin like a swarm of shiny termites. That was all the warning she got before the metal arms - quite literally - sweeped her off her feet. "Faster this way," She could hear the nonchalant shrug in the metallic voice coming from the helmet. "Now hold on."

Awe and fear culminated inside the woman but the weariness had long since surpassed comfortable levels and all she did was give a weak nod and close her eyes as Tony lifted off, gusts of wind making her skin break out in goosebumps and her hair stand up wildly on her head. During the short trip her eyes fluttered open only once just to close back up immediately - all she saw were clouds, white and fluffy, like marshmallows, and the shining beacons of NYC skyscrapers somewhere far away.

The paralyzing anxiety fully dissipated only when her feet found purchase on the tiled floors, Tony's arms never ceasing to support her swaying frame until the breaths she took were her own and not the result of her fluttering heart and muted panic. "You with me, Wonder Woman?"

"Yes, Weird Science," She mumbled. "Thanks for the heads up," The annoyance had to find a way out and that it did.

"You're welcome," The cocky smirk returned to Tony's face as his suit receded, leaving him barefoot, dirty jeans and a torn tee. He stretched with a sweet groan, gesturing towards the door. "Friday will direct you towards the showers. Feel free to grab a t-shirt from the closet."

The woman nodded, too awestruck by the man and his hospitality, eyes darting all over the tastefully decorated room, the expensive knick-knacks scattered everywhere, the absolutely enormous sloppily made bed. Tony Stark liked to live luxuriously - even the shower was a state of the art technological wonder.

Dirty pants and dusty blouse went flying somewhere in the back of the bathroom as the woman stood up on her tippy toes, reaching for the sky, stretching her sore muscles. The glass wall of the shower had began to fog up from the hot water. The knock went barely noticed by the woman who jumped as Tony's voice startled her out of her daydream.

"Forgot I ran out of towels here..." He trailed off, voice dropping as he spotted her only in her underwear. She turned, responding with a lopsided grin, spying the stack of fluffy grey in his arms, the arc reactor in the middle of his bare chest. He smirked, "Damn. Can I join you?" Giving her what only could be described as a respectful once-over.

Tired as she was, her sense of humour and wit didn't go down for a much needed nap just yet. "I don't know, you tell me. Can you?" Turning back around, the woman made a short show of unclasping her bra and tossing it in the general vicinity of her dirty clothing pile. She'd worn a cute matching set of undies that day and the fact didn't go over Tony's head, she was sure.

The door clicked shut just as she raised her face to the stream of water, feeling calmer with each second, muscles relaxing themselves as the hot stream washed away the dirt and the dust off her body.

"And I thought this evening was ruined," Tony's voice insinuated from behind her. A hand reached for the soap, his body heat scorching compared to the steaming water. He stayed just a few inches away, enough to feel him, enough for her body to respond and crave more. "It's nice to be wrong for a change. Refreshing."

The woman hummed, reaching up to run her fingers through her wet, knotted hair. "First decent evening in ages. I wasn't gonna let some uninvited Predator knock-offs ruin it for me," She was more than a little peeved at the space invaders interrupting her nice date. Tony was a great conversationalist, it was easy to talk to him and he had a brilliant sense of humour. Not to mention the obvious, he was easy on the eyes.

"That's the spirit," The voice was closer now, almost in her ear. Even though her eyes were closed, the woman was aware he was reaching for something, letting him butt her hands out of the way to lather her hair, scrubbing at her scalp meticulously, until the sounds that left her mouth bordered on embarrassing. Once that was done, Tony moved onto her body, running his hands over her back, the outside of her hips. "M'not stepping over, am I?" He asked quietly, touch faltering every time he brushed over a scrape or a bruise.

"No, you're doing great, Tony," It wasn't exactly conventional - sharing a very intimate shower after an interrupted first date, but then again, nothing about this man was conventional and her life had already been turned upside down no less than twice recently. The woman didn't lie, the gentle, caring touch felt soothing.

Arching her back, she lifted her arms to repay him with the same, raking her fingers through his hair, leaning into the shudder that ran throughout his body. It was nice to bask in whatever they had going on, so the motion to face him was almost reluctant. Water droplets stuck to his eyelashes and his eyes were tired but not in a way that suggested he'd kick her out first chance.

Their kiss was sweet, slow, like they already were familiar with each other in a special way. The woman tugged on his lip with her teeth - such was her character - and he pressed closer to her, raising a hand to hold the side of her face. In muted curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder if there ever had been someone that waited for him once his battles were over.

Tony's eyelashes, the very same that had no business being this long on a man, fluttered against her cheek as they stood under the shower, letting water wash away the day.

"I've always wanted to kiss in the rain, like they do in the movies. This is the closest I've gotten," She whispered, gently kneading the arch of his shoulders. "Feels better than it looks, to be honest."

Tony snorted, reaching for the knob to turn it off. "Cheesy," He teased her, wrapping a warm, fluffy towel around her body. Both people made quick work of drying themselves, exiting the fogged up bathroom, making way into the bedroom, padding soft on the carpet and falling down on the bed carelessly.

"I'm the queen of cheesy one-liners," The woman raised her eyebrows, scooting under the sheets next to Tony who opened his arms wide, a smirk on his face. She didn't give him the chance to reply, slotting her lips over his instead and groaning as their heated bodies once again rested against each other.

She ran her hands over Tony's defined pecs, glossing over the arc reactor, raked nails over his tummy, eating up the sighs leaving his mouth at the gesture. He was a beautiful man, she wasn't going to lie to herself. The warmth that settled low in her belly grew, spreading throughout her limbs and temporarily overshadowing the exhaustion.

The engineer, too, was quite excited - his erection poked her hip - and content to be steered to her wishes by the hand in his hair. Groans and sighs left his moist, parted lips as his eagerness bled into his hands, grip firm and steady on the panting woman's hips.

Adrenaline did something to her body, caused it to ache sweetly, a hunger to be satisfied only by a lover's touch. And touch she did; her mouth tasted him, alternating sucking gentle marks onto his throat and nibbling on the skin stretched thinly over his collarbones. Tony's sighs grew in depth and volume with every silent action of worship.

No inch of his body was left untouched, the woman was an all-hands-on-deck kind of lover, happily making her way down until soft lips wrapped around the crown of his cock, making his hips arch into it, hands fisted in the soft white sheets. "You devil," Tony gasped out, limbs turning to jelly, watching the woman all but devour his cock.

She popped off minutely, a trail of sticky saliva running down her chin, sticking to his glistening cock. "The power of Christ compels me?" With a smirk, her tongue trailed from his balls to the very tip, paying extra attention to the frenulum, making Tony shudder and gasp out an embarrassed laugh.

"Uh-uh," Stripped of his usual snark, he was but a man at her mercy.

"It's not very compelling," The predatory stretch of her lips widened as she took mercy on him, giving his cock a few slow tugs with her hand. Her mouth, her hand and his cock were dripping. "Gonna let me do all the legwork, Mr. Stark?" She sat up straighter, inadvertently drawing his eyes to the apex of her thighs where the woman's sex glistened in the dim light, lips swollen and inviting.

It sounded like she was mocking him, teasing him, egging him into a lustful frenzy none of them had the energy for but craved anyway. Tony Stark wasn't the one to back down from a fair challenge so he relented, flipping them over with ease, landing between her spread legs, eyes drawn to the momentary bounce of her breasts. Tony wasted no time in suckling a hard nipple into his mouth, humming in response to her choked-off moan of surprise.

"Tony," Her body arched into his touch, tender skin hot under the callouses on his fingertips.

"Yes, demon, dear?" A lopsided grin and laughter in his eyes preceded the wet stripe Tony licked down to her navel. "Wasn't there something about not telling demons your name? Guess you have power over me now," He trailed off cheekily, soft breaths puffing over her mound.

The woman bit her lip, peering down to rake a hand through Tony's hair, snagging a fistful to gently steer him towards her pussy. Tony's smile was one of satisfaction as he obediently followed her silent order, nosing along the line of her cunt, dipping his tongue to run slow, sloppy lines through the soaked folds.

"Fuck," She mumbled, spreading her legs without shame. "Yeah, right there," Her fingers turned white at the agility of Tony's tongue on her clit. He was swift and relentless in pursuit of the spots that made her moan and clench around nothing. The moisture of her sex soaked his goatee but he couldn't care less.

He growled when she attempted to withdraw, wrapping his muscular arms around her thighs to keep her still for his pleasure, wringing noises that increased in volume with every stroke of his tongue on her sex.

"Tony- please, Tony, I'm gonna-" The warning was brief; her back arched as a broken moan found its way past her moist, parted lips, her pussy spasmed, dripping all over his face and the sheets.

The engineer hid his smile against her thigh, discreetly wiping the obscene amounts of moisture she produced. It wasn't very long until her hands, slightly shaky, were tugging him upwards to meet his face in a rushed, graceless kiss. There was an equal lack of finesse in the glide of his erection along her sex.

"Okay?" He mumbled into her ear, lining himself up with her fluttering cunt.

"Please," She gasped, her hands pushing his hips onto her, eagerly lifting up to accept the sweet intrusion.

There was a quiet stutter in both of their breathing, hearts thudding against their ribs as he finally bottomed out, the thickness of him nestled snugly inside the rippling muscle. The pace he started out was agonizingly slow and inexplicably sweet, neither of them wanting to end their coupling prematurely but not being able to hold back the need that consumed them both.

"Fuck, you're so good to me," Tony's mumbling was overshadowed by the slick sounds coming from the place they were joined. "Gonna fill up this pretty pussy."

The woman keened at the idea, digging her nails into his ass, pulling him further into her.

"You'd like that?" He picked up the pace, blunt tip of his cock catching up with the tail end of her previous orgasm and re-lighting the fire in her belly anew.

"Yeah, Tony, please," No trace of the previous coyness in her voice, the woman was more than ready to beg, murder and steal to feel the man come undone in her arms.

It didn't take long, not with the adrenaline making their blood sing and the chemistry they shared. The brutal pace of Tony's hips quickly grew sloppy and erratic, the tightening of her inner muscles egging him on. He chased his release with deep, powerful thrusts that had the bedsheets rustle pitifully and beads of clear swear drip down his forehead.

As soon as her body arched once more, Tony let go of his control, slotting himself deeply into her spasming heat, cock throbbing as he painted her insides white with his seed, groaning incomprehensible compliments and profanities through his teeth. Chest heaving, the engineer couldn't do much more but let himself carefully fall onto her chest, aftershocks making him twitch when the woman began running a gentle hand through his hair.

"We're doing this again," He decided, still breathless but already a step ahead. She laughed.

Tony Stark taglist: @pilloclock @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @downeyreads @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @slothspaghettiwrites @bluecrazedandbeautiful

[plotholes-and-spellingerrors]

I think the thing is that, fundamentally, there's no such thing as running an "AI" locally. (I'm assuming that when you say "AI" you're referring to the "generative" models where a user makes a natural-language request, e.g. "re-organize my business", and the model outputs an org chart or something.) The problem is that these models require so much compute that you basically cannot run them on a personal computer. If you saw that post going around talking about Windows quietly turning on constant system snapshots to run it's AI assistant, the article pointed out that some features were only available on machines with specially beefed-up processors and memory, and even then, internet connectivity was vital because it was sending data back to Microsoft to be processed - that was part of the privacy/security risk, that images potentially displaying passwords, etc., were being stored on Microsoft servers. The point being, you need massive server farms to ingest, store, and analyze the data that these models are being built on - and it never ends, or the model becomes stale. And even once you have the model, calculating a response is also incredibly resource intensive. That's why every single Google AI result takes so much more water and electricity than the entirety of the actual search results combined.

I have shared the link before, but I am begging people to listen to the "Data Vampires" miniseries from Tech Won't Save Us. They make clear very early on that the reason Microsoft, Google, and Amazon are pushing AI so much is because they are data center companies: they make money every time a service uses their data centers. And you know where ChatGPT and MidJourney results are being processed? On Microsoft and Google and Amazon's data centers. In fact, a lot of the "money" that these companies are investing into GenAI orgs is actually just donating server usage to them, to get them locked in on those servers, which will then need to be paid for. So the GenAI companies have to find a way to get people to pay for AI services, because they're paying for AI compute power.

The other thing, and I cannot stress this enough, is that these are not knowledge models. They are very sophisticated duplication models. If you say to the "AI", "Make my workflow simpler", it doesn't have a semantic understanding of what "simpler" means (and it certainly can't ask for clarification). All it can do is look at its massive data set and try to predict a version of whatever it is outputting that is associated with the string of letters "simpler", based on a bunch of stuff that has previously been labeled as "simple" (or similar words). So you might get a work flow that has fewer steps, for example, but what the "AI" might not realize (because it doesn't have a concept of what any of the steps are) is that maybe it's actually added that are meaningless, maybe it's just shuffled some steps to it looks like there's fewer but actually it's just hidden a couple... or maybe it's eliminated some vital error-checking steps that 98% of the time result in nothing (it looks like a waste of time, so simplify it out) but 1.7% of the time catches something minor (oh good, that would have wasted resources to fix) and 0.3% of the time catches something mission-critical (this error could have brought us to bankruptcy/court/prison). And keep in mind, the person asking an automated system to simplify their business workflow is NOT the person who designed the workflow and knows what needs to be in there (if they were, they wouldn't need a computer to tell them how to fix it) - they're the person trying to not need to pay someone to design the workflow.

And for that matter, a lot of what happens when some "AI" system is inserted into a process is that it's still doing the same task (just at a much higher computational requirement, and potentially wrong), but it looks simpler because the human user is only clicking one button rather than five.

And look, I'm all for automating tasks that are repetitive and time-consuming for a human - that's the whole point of computers in the first place. But a truly effective and efficient replacement for human work is one that was designed by people who are intimately familiar with the required tasks and thinking deeply about how to make their jobs easier.

You know, these techbros love to make it sound like humans are just bad at making systems, computers will be so much better at it, but I think that's a lie they tell because they want to make one generic product and get everyone to buy it. That's the promise of "general artificial intelligence" - it's one system that can do everything. But what else in life works like that? Do you put your clothes and your dishes in the same washing device? Something that does a lot of things well is typically very simple. You can fry an egg and boil water in the same pan because it's a bent piece of metal sitting over heat. An espresso machine, however, will have a harder time with the egg. Good software generally focuses on doing one thing - the difference is whether that one thing is simple and can be applied to a lot of different things (Firefox renders web content, it just happens that you can have all kinds of stuff on the web) or if that one thing is extremely specific (Audacity edits music and GIMP edits images - audio and images are both data types that Firefox can show you, but can you imagine what a mess GIMPdacity would be?); the problem is that this specialization requires human effort, and these techbros do not want to PAY for human effort; the problem is that this specialization means that you have target audiences, and these techbros want to sell to a general (read: bigger) audience. And conversely, those byzantine systems that are so terrible? Often it's not because people are just dumb, it's because either the job is a very complicated one, and the system is tailored to success in that task, or because someone wanted a general system that accomplishes all kinds of things, and often what they want accomplished is METRICS so that the efficiency of the business can be micromanaged. But that's another story for another time. In short, don't ever let someone who is trying to sell you bullshit tell you the lie that you couldn't do better on your own.

Anyway, IDK if this is really even what OP meant, it's just where my mind went. If you put up with me to the end, thanks for reading.

MAN, can you imagine the clusterfuck of working at a company that’s become reliant on an AI layer between itself/its employees, and knowing how to do their jobs and use their systems and stuff? Like when that AI layer goes down, poof, you’re all hosed. And they don’t strike me as super robust…

I guess there are ways of training and running them locally, but they’re so seductive they’re definitely going to be deployed in places that aren’t up to the task of maintaining them in a sane state. Like… damn… cutting headcount in favor of relying on AI is like. A raccoon stuffing its head into a yogurt container. This is gonna be killing off organizations in a few years.

Unless AI gets good at destroying preexisting fucked up byzantine workflows and replacing them with simpler, human-friendly ones. That would be okay. But it is gonna irrevocably destroy a lot of records and botch a lot of database migrations on its way there.

[mentalisttraceur-software]

So last year I started writing that if I was to implement asymmetric passwords right now, I would use Argon2id for key derivation, Ed25519 for signatures, and Ristretto255 for the OPRF. I haven't really reviewed those choices since, but they are probably still good.

Argon2id output size must match the private key size of Ed25519: 256 bits.

The other Argon2id parameters can just be left configurable in the implementation, but there are some universally applicable ideas:

You are competing with the insecurity of just sending the plain password to the server. Any parameters are profoundly more secure than that. The private key derived with this Argon2id run never leaves your client and is only around in memory momentarily. The server only sees that private key's signatures and public key.

The key UX consideration is how much time it takes and how much it bogs down the user's device from doing anything else useful while logging in. Unfortunately many users in the world still have fairly low-spec hardware, and you are competing with the speed of sending their password with plain text.

The recommended Argon2 tuning order is to raise memory as much as you can - the whole point of Argon2 is to be memory hard to take away any cost advantage from GPU, FPGA, and ASIC crackers - then raise the parallelism, then raise the iterations.

So that lets us figure out the best parameters that can be used across all devices with some minimum specs that we want to support while still having an acceptably fast login experience on all of them.

And obviously for users who know to seek out those settings, we could also let users raise their account's minimum Argon2id parameters higher than the default minimum.

But can we do even better?

In principle we could always have higher parameters than our secure minimum while keeping acceptably fast logins if the user's device has the specs for it. This just adds a small risk of a slow login if they later try to log in from an atypically low-spec or constrained system.

So why not just automate that process? First try to get larger allocations until the system refuses, while also doing a microbenchmark to test if using that much memory at once hits a slowdown. Then do a microbenchmark to see when speedup from parallelism drops off. You might be able to combine these two. Now start running an Argon2id implementation that gives you some way to choose at each iteration whether to stop or continue, and stop once you're less than one iteration's duration away from your maximum acceptable login time.

This is getting better, but what do you do for users who log in from devices with significantly different specs? Maybe they dropped and broke their phone so they're using an old temp phone for a while. Or they normally log in from a high-end gaming rig but today they're at grandma's and hopping on her budget computer to get something done.

When a user logs in, we have to use the saved parameters to check their login, otherwise Argon2id would give us a different private key and the Ed25519 public key wouldn't match the saved one.

But if the measured best parameters are different enough, then after logging in successfully we could start the creation of a new entry as a background lower-priority task.

Unless the user leaves in about a login's worth of time right after logging in, that will finish and we can save that so the login uses the best settings next time.

Okay but what about churn if you use multiple devices regularly? What about needlessly sending a less secured key after throwing away more secure parameter entry? What about needlessly spending more time logging in after throwing away a lower parameter entry?

We could actually have more than one entry of Argon2id parameters, salt, and public key for a user. So long as the minimum parameters meet our security bar, the only downside is a tiny risk of a weakness in the composition of Ed25519 deriving public keys from separate private keys that result from independently randomly salted and differently parameterized Argon2id runs somehow leaking statistical information about the password.

Each entry can be expired once it hasn't been needed for a login for too long - or we could even make the code pluggable, since this is a cache eviction problem and there are many different schemes for that, maybe someone knows a better one.

It feels vulnerable to a downgrade attack, but it isn't meaningfully so, because if you didn't have this scheme then you would just have to pick parameters that are secure enough - so just use those parameters as your minimums.

That seems pretty great, but there's a really sucky part to this scheme: both the login experience and the implementation suffer a lot when you are logging in from a much weaker system than any remembered entry. And I don't just mean it would be slow, I mean it might require your Argon2id implementation to handle cases like "every device until now let us use 2GiB of memory and this one's refusing to give us more than 256MiB, so now we have to compute the same result in an eighth of the space".

(Aside: this is a good example of why "limit this program to [amount] memory" is not really the right resource control knob a lot of the time if the implementation is "refuse to let the program address more memory" rather than "use swap space if it tries to have more memory" - code that is willing to give up speed to fit within your memory constraints shouldn't have to reimplement memory page swapping, and if you are not willing to give it that opportunity then that would be a different knob.)

One way to mitigate that sucky edge case:

Since you have an acceptable minimum parameterization of Argon2id anyway, just keep an entry for that permanently.

This is worse in the event of a server compromise than only having stronger parameter entries, but if you didn't have the dynamicism and multiple entries you would still always have this lowest secure parameters entry on the server,

It's still better than just having the lowest parameters in the absence of server secret storage compromise or downgrade attack, because you send a public key and signature corresponding to a private key derived from the password with better parameters.

So I've gone back and forth in my mind about this scheme being worth it or not. There is something really nice about users' password security organically automatically upgrading as their technology upgrades. On the other hand it is very complex, would require a lot of reimplemention of some of the most security-sensitive and "don't write this yourself unless you're a cryptographer and computer security expert!" parts of the system, with more cleverness and complexity than existing implementations.

I think the tie breaker for me is that this is all probably very temporary and maybe already obsolete. The future is not users logging in by typing in passwords that they remember. Asymmetric passwords is a great way to make that better, but that's going away. The future is your device knowing cryptographic keys for each login for you, and maybe one password securing the encrypted secret storage where those keys live.

The recent passkey announcements and standardization was a good reminder of that.

Over a year ago I did some testing and found that 128MiB, 1 lane, and 3 iterations was tolerably slow on some realistically old or weak phones and pretty great on new high-end ones. That's lower than you'd use for server-side password hashing, but I'd rather have the security increase of never sending the password to the server. So you could probably dial that up by approximately a year's worth of typical user technology spec improvement and still get a great login experience range.

That's probably good enough until the passkey stuff takes over entirely.

[seance]

just wanted t0 ask, do you try out first for blending to see if it's gonna look good or do you use scenes that you want and try super hard to make it work? i've heard some poeple usually take screencaps and try to see how it's gonna look before they start giffing.

i think i mentioned this before but no, i don't actually use the screencaps method even tho i can see why it could be useful! i personally need to account for all the gif movements tho so it would be a waste of time for me personally, that's because i've reached i point i think where i usually just know what would work and what wouldn't simply by looking at the scene. the fact that when i watch stuff i'm already thinking about the giffing possibilities is crazy but it helps cause i memorize shots and compositions pretty quickly and i can go back to it whenever i want.

when i don't have a specific scene in mind i rewatch bits and pieces until something catches my eyes but in general i know what to look for (i stir away from overly bright scenes for example, cause i know they would be hard to blend and color if there's too much white).

that said, i too sometimes spend hours trying out different approaches cause maybe what i chose just doesn't work well put together or i'll try to make a scene i really wanted to include look nice with no luck, then i surrender and change it. it's a little trial and error like everything else! but i must say practice helps A LOT with automating the process.

also, a huge disclaimer: sometimes the blending WON’T work until you color the gifs. most shows are super washed away and it can seem like you wouldn’t be able to distinguish anything, that’s why i always go as far as putting basic coloring, especially curves and levels and vector masks before passing judgment.

[wafflewarriors]

A Rewrite of History

Chapter 9—Hook Man

You woke up on a bed.

You hadn’t slept on a bed in months. And it was like a cloud. It had a soft but firm pillow and a heavy comforter, and if it had been your choice, you would have never left.

But like a sunbathing cat, you were always listening. A familiar flap of wings was brought to your attention and your heart sank. Angels. Of course—it had to be angels.

A deep voice broke your comfortable silence: "We know you're awake. Don't waste our time further."

You lifted your head to meet eyes with the pair gazing back at you. Muriel and Castiel. You sighed, almost wishing it was the Winchesters instead; at least they didn't talk riddles.

You propped yourself up, then realized your arm was back to its full range of motion. No sling. "You healed me." Same deal with your hand burn and some other little scars.

"Yes. You had severe malnutrition to the point of shutting down."

"Oh. I meant the bum arm, but... yeah, thanks for that, too."

"You need to be at your best for your next job," Castiel said.

"Excuse me, my next… job? And what would that be?" you looked between them. Something told you it wouldn’t be good.

Muriel offered the fakest smile you’d ever seen in your life. And that was saying something, considering the last few months. “We want you to kill Miss Lori Sorensen.”

“You… you mean for the hookman case? But… that’s not necessary. All I have to do is melt her necklace down,” you told them.

Their silence suggested they already knew that.

You squinted. “You can’t seriously be…” you tried to catch Castiel’s eyes, since he was more considerate, but he refused to meet your gaze. “That’s murder!”

“She is killing people.”

“No. Wrong. The hookman is killing people. The necklace is… she doesn't even know what she's doing! Cas, don’t tell me you’re actually condoning this?!”

Muriel turned calmly to Castiel, monitoring his reaction.

And there, you got a glimpse of just how long they’d really been brainwashing Castiel. Heaven must really be leashing him. He was as still as a statue; so motionless it gave you chills. Not even his trenchcoat dared to tremble. “It is His command,” was all he said.

Your eyes widened. Castiel still thought his orders were coming from God. As much as you wanted to tell him now, Muriel would certainly keep that from happening. No, you would keep this to yourself until Castiel was alone.

Trying to reflect Castiel's stoicism, you cleared your throat. "Right," you said sourly. "So, why the change? Why is… He… so eager to change the game? What makes this different?"

Muriel's eyes narrowed. "The Winchesters failed to bring the apocalypse the first time. It forced His hand."

You scoffed. "Forced God's hand? Now that is something." So it was true. The angels and demons really were changing the rules—and writing their own. "Or… you're trying to separate me from the Winchesters. That's it, isn't it? You want them to hate me." 

As you unwound the truth, Muriel became more impatient. "I've had enough of your stalling. Do you understand your role or not?"

You held his gaze, reluctant but determined not to look weak. "Sure." Which really meant: we'll see.

"Good. I hope you mean what you say. Otherwise, you'll be forcing my hand," Muriel hummed.

Was that a threat? "On who? On me?"

"On you. On your friend. On your family," he said. His eyes were glowing. "On whomever I need."

You stared at him, processing this. On whomever I need.

Castiel finally spoke, almost like an automated voice, "Consider this room a gift. Checkout is at twelve. Your car is parked outside." And both angels disappeared before your eyes.

You turned to look at the clock, which read '11:58 AM'. You sighed. Of course it was. You couldn't ever enjoy anything.

You dragged yourself out of bed, already missing it's comfort, and grabbed your bag off of the table. "Time to go," you muttered.

To be honest, you were probably lucky Muriel didn't dump you in the middle of a corn field. He'd been giving you the stink eye since he first laid eyes on you.

You wondered briefly if Castiel had proposed the hotel room. Muriel certainly thought nothing of you; you were nothing more than some gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

Even if they had him tethered like a dog, the thought of Castiel trying to help you out in little ways was... comforting.

There was a map in the hotel lobby, which you pondered over. You were in Ankeny, Iowa. And you needed to get to the church.

The car drive there wasn’t anything like the Winchesters. There were no long talks, no discussing cases, no brotherly moments—just a solemn, smooth drive to drown in your thoughts.

The question remained:

Were you a killer?

///

When you got to the church, you had decided.

You were a killer.

After all, who else should shoulder the deaths of Will, Jessica, and Bill? Your inaction made you just as guilty. You knew what would happen, yet you still failed. And here, you would fail Lori too.

You had failed the Winchesters.

You don't know what you had expected of yourself, but you certainly weren't a hero. This was the real world, where the choices weren't always black and white.

You found Lori sitting by her lonesome, probably wondering if she had killed the people around her. 'Avenging' angels, you remembered her saying. She thought the hookman was an avenging angel.

She didn't really know how right she was. Just… not in the way she might have imagined it.

She heard you and turned, looking to see her visitor, but was startled by the gun in your hands. "What—what's going on—"

"You're killing people," you told her.

"Wh-what? I don't—look, I don't know what you're talking about," she blurted, doe eyes on your gun.

This feels so wrong.

"You wanted your boyfriend punished for ignoring your lack of consent. You wanted your roommate punished. And now? You want your father punished," you said. "Do you see where this is going? Do you see how this ends?" you sneered.

"Please," she cried. "Please, I don't know how to stop it!"

You began to have second thoughts.

You mentally kicked yourself. Do the job already. You don't have the luxury of second thoughts.

Yet, your heart still strained at the thought of killing Lori. She didn't deserve that. She was an innocent girl witnessing a horrible event—just like you.

How the hell did the Winchesters make all these hard choices all the time? Why did you have to decide if the life of your friends and family were more important than another innocent girl? That wasn't fair—to you or them.

And who's to say this wouldn't continue? That the body count wouldn't rack up, that they wouldn't just keep asking for more from you, until you realized you were never the good guy at all?

The weight of the gun was suddenly too heavy. You let your arm fall to your side, shaking your head. "Just give me the necklace," you said stonily.

"So this is a robbery now?!" she yelped, though still fumbling for the silver cross.

"No," you said. "No. I'm… I'm saving you."

As she handed you the necklace, you did not expect the hookman to appear before you, swinging his scythe. You barely had enough time to dodge it.

So this was the thanks you got for saving her.

Just as you were about to bolt, Muriel and Castiel appeared. Castiel beside you, and Muriel beside Lori.

"What's going on?" you demanded.

You dropped the necklace when Castiel grabbed your arm with urgency. "Close your eyes," he said, and covered them with his hand anyway.

Light encompassed the room. You could see it by the red tint behind your eyelids. "No," you said with devastation. "No, you can't—"

You couldn't move away. There was a barrier—like a heavy blanket had been draped around your backside.

Like… Cas had thrown his wings around you.

He released you when the light faded out. You blinked, staring at Lori, who had two smoking holes where her eyes should have been.

"No," you said. "This… this wasn’t supposed to happen."

Castiel's jaw ticked. "If she had not died, you would have been punished."

Punished. Specifically the word punished. You sneered, "You know what? You angels are no better than the hookman." You kicked at the pile of dust near your feet, which used to be the silver necklace. It must have been incinerated in the blast. "Except he had no choice."

You let the silent 'you do' hang.

You could tell Castiel was listening—that you were finally getting the gears to turn in that funny celestial mind of his.

But just as you began to make progress, stupid Muriel had to intervene. "Let us go, Castiel. We have more important things to worry about than a mud monkey's defiance." 

Castiel nodded and flew off a second behind Muriel.

It confirmed one thing, though: you needed to get Castiel alone. You had to convince him to help the Winchesters. And you, for that matter. His trust could be gained, but it would require time, patience, and a dead Muriel. And maybe—just maybe—you could then strike an alliance. 

The first thing you would ask of him would be to get some damn angel sigils on your ribs.

On a similar note, you really should start by getting yourself an anti-possession tattoo. With as many demons as you were going to be facing in the future, you were going to need it. You weren't keen on being one of those thing's meatsuits.

Your thoughts were broken by the church doors being thrown open by Sam Winchester himself. Catching you red handed in an act you were only a witness to. Again.

There was no way to make this look good. Lori was dead—eyes burned out of their sockets—and you were alone with her, unscathed. And it wasn't like you could convince Sam that the hookman had done it; this wasn’t exactly his signature.

You ran for the backdoor, your heart panging in sorrow as you flew by Lori's body. There wasn't even time to let yourself grieve.

Sam was at your heels, but you managed to duck from his reach and throw yourself out the backdoor.

When you made it to your car, you pointed your gun at Sam, who skidded to a stop. "Don't move. Don't try to follow me," you told him. "You saw what happened to Lori." It was an empty threat, but it wasn't like Sam knew that.

His narrow eyes were fixated on you. Then, strangely enough, he backed off.

You turned to enter your car when someone slammed the gun out of your hands and grabbed you from behind. You struggled, but the arms were strong, and you were not.

You'd think after a few months of hunting, you'd have built some muscle, but your diet wasn't doing you much good. If anything, you were weaker. 

"You are quite the escape artist, you know that?" It was Dean. And he didn't sound happy. His arms were tight, like a boa constrictor around your neck. You fidgeted, struggling to breath through his tight grip.

Sam straightened himself and glared at you. "She killed Lori."

You bit back your protests. It's not like they would listen. What's worse: you couldn't really deny it anyway. It was your fault she was dead. It was all your fault.

"Well, that settles it, then. You're not leaving our sight," Dean said as he snapped handcuffs around your wrists. He was rough about it, letting the metal dig into your skin. "We're going to figure out whatever the hell you are…" He brought his face real close, growling into your ear: "And then we're going to kill you."

If only they knew.

///

Tags: @rosaren2498 , @pillowjj , @busy-bee-angel-misska , @elle-r , @dagnylokisdottir , @omg-we-really-doo , @millieccino , @regainedworld , @postcardsfromliterallynowhere , @rycbar-221b (it won’t let me tag you)

[instacaptain]

How to Organically Boost Your Instagram Growth

You're a brand or influencer on Instagram attempting to develop a follower. So, in your niche, you publish content, follow others, but nothing seems to work. Sure, here and there you get a few supporters— some of whom are in your sector. But you want to speed up the process and growth hack the heck out of your IG account. Well, there's good news— you can do it organically. We will dive into some of the techniques you can use — but first, let's look  at some of the factors your account is struggling with.

Why Aren’t Instagrammers Following You?

Knowing where you’re going wrong will help you to improve your Instagram marketing results. This goes for both influencers, brands, and anyone else who wants to become popular on the world’s second largest social media network. See if the following sounds like you.

You Don’t Publish Posts Consistently

The frequency of your posts matters. Why? Because Instagrammers are hyper-social and actively search for incredible content. So if people come across your profile and they see you spend days without posting, then they’re going to think you’re not active and will skip hitting that “follow” button. Even if you already have thousands of supporters, your commitment rates will be harmed by not continuously posting content. In case you didn’t know — Instagram’s new algorithm rewards content by pushing it up in your followers feed if your posts get a lot of engagement. So keep in mind as you grow your account — consistency is key!

You Ignore Your Audience

If you’re not engaging with your audience, then you’re hurting the image of your personal or corporate brand. Let’s not forget that Instagram is a social network — keyword social. It is therefore critical that you spend time responding to remarks every day and commenting on messages from others.  You should also make it a routine to find and share other people’s content.

Your Content is Low-Quality or Downright Boring

No one wants to view, read, or watch content that’s going to put them to sleep. Or worse — hurt their eyes. This is why it’s vital to publish high-quality content. Every video and photo you upload should be high-definition (both visually and audibly). If not, users will bounce off quicker than you can blink. Also, the topics you cover should be fascinating enough to attract and hold the attention of your intended audience. Investigate what is the trend and attempt to produce content around the subjects and thoughts. You can also examine your supporters to see what kind of material they want and what subjects they want. Use a poll with ideas for them to choose from. Alright, so what can you do to actively grow your Instagram account? Here are some organic marketing hacks to try.

Develop a Strategy For Content

You're not going to get far in your effort to improve your follow-up to Instagram without outstanding content. So to guarantee a coherent flow of eye-catching material, you need a plan. Your strategy should consist of pushing out high-quality posts that are packed with breath-taking visuals and those that evoke emotion or tell a story. Of course, the kind of content you post depends on the industry you're in and the audience you're looking to attract. So to start, you should focus on generating content that starts conversations, inspires, or makes people laugh. It's a good idea to create a theme around your content, so that when people see your posts, they can immediately identify it with your brand. You can do this using specific color schemes, filters, and layouts. Keep an eye on what performs well (and what doesn’t), so you know what to continue publishing. Once you have an idea of the forms of content and topics, you can create a monthly schedule. There are tools you can use to automate your social media posts, such as Hootsuite and HubSpot.

Concentrate on telling  stories

People today love stories. So if you’re looking to sell a product or service, or even your personal brand, then stories must be a part of your strategy. It's about giving your content narrative, character, and purpose. If you're able to enlighten, inspire, and/or entertain your audience, you're in the  money. What better way to share these stories than with Instagram Stories? To date, 500 million people use Stories every day. So it's a popular tool and  it's widely accepted. You can almost guarantee that users will at least click on your video to see what it's all about. And if you keep them short and engaging enough, you can get them to watch the entire thing (and even follow you afterward). Plus, about 33% of the most widely viewed stories are made by brands. So if you’re not already incorporating Instagram Stories into your campaign, then it’s definitely time to start!

Targeting a Specific Audience

There are over 1 billion Instagram users — so there’s plenty of fish in the sea to catch. But this doesn’t mean you need to cast your net far and wide. While this sounds like a plausible tactic, it’s not going to yield consistent or long-lasting results. For one, you can’t please everyone. You should direct your content to a particular group of people so that it resonates with them. Trying to create content for everyone will water down your feed and make it impossible to keep your followers happy. There's just not enough content for everyone to get around. So your bet is to sit down and investigate your target audience. Where are they located, how old are they, and what do they do? How about their problems, concerns, and desires? With this kind of insight, you can generate a plan that will make them calm. The kind of content they like to consume (memes, stories, live video) and  the themes that attract them the most.

Use the Hashtags that will Attract Your Target Audience

Alright, so you know who your audience is and the type of content they like. Now, it’s time to get their attention. Hashtags is one of the most effective ways to help non-followers find you. The key is to choose popular hashtags that aren't used too much, so your posts aren't lost in a sea of content. It’s also a good idea to include location-specific hashtags if you’re catering to a specific community or city. Keep an eye on your industry's trends so you can ride the wave and catch more fish possibly.

Experiment with Various Posts and Strategies

There is no technique of cookie-cutter to attract supporters of Instagram. These are individuals you need to know and adjust to with requirements and wishes. But it's hard to do this without some kind of experimentation. You don't  want to be comfortable or complacent about your strategy. There is always room for improvement. What is working today may not necessarily work tomorrow. You should try to change your content types, topics (as long as they are relevant) and your approach. Of course, you want your strategy to stay true to your brand, or it’ll come off as non-authentic and spammy. Some of the things you can test include: Post frequency Different types of content (cinemagraphics, memes, etc.) The times and days you post The hashtags you use The content in your posts This isn’t an all-inclusive list but should give you a good headstart. It is also essential to remember now that your hashtags can also help  organize your content. It is therefore optimal to use the same hashtags on comparable content. This will allow followers (and non-followers) to find the content they’re looking for. You can think of hashtags like folders. Some of the hashtags that you can use are: Industry tags (#hotel) Niche tags(#Healthandwellness) Branded tags (your company or product/service name) Community tags (#GoBucks) Location tags (#OrlandoHotels) Event tags (#NationalWomensDay2019) Event type tags (#WeddingDay) This should give you an idea of how you can use hashtags to make your posts more organized and visible.

Get Real Followers on Instagram and Not The Fake

Your approach to buying Instagram followers should be strategic. You'll find a lot of social media influencers buying followers for their accounts. And that's what they're doing to help build their credibility and earn more  followers. People today will only follow accounts that they perceive as  popular and trustworthy. You can also get free Instagram likes and  followers using old tricks, but it wouldn't last long. Social proof is a part of gaining this trust. Now, before you go and buy followers, you need to make sure they're real people and accounts, not bots and fake profiles. This will make your IG account look bad and could potentially have it banned or suspended. After researching dozens of growth services available, the best service was a company called Hashtags For Likes. You can pay monthly at Hashtags For Likes for a constant stream of true followers from the audiences you're targeting. It's a strategic approach — not a spam hack.

Start Building Your Instagram Account Now!

As you can see, there are many ways you can organically develop your account. Even buying followers is an organic way to use your newfound social proof to get more followers. Once you have a good number of followers, you will find it easier to get more and more followers. So start putting together your strategy and let us know how it will work out in the comments! Read the full article