#AI for research is necessary

[cinemaocd]

All research in physics and astronomy uses machine learning. They could not deal with the big data sets without it.

(Source)

[liliacamethyst]

Web of Secrets - Miguel O'Hara 

Miguel O'Hara x SpiderSun Reader

words: 3.7K

warnings: secret pregnancy trope, swearing, angst, heartbreak, grumpy/sunshine, smut

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

In your universe, you are known as the Sun Spider. It all started on a school field trip to a solar energy research center, where you were accidentally exposed to a spider that had been subjected to intense solar radiation. You woke up with a white-hot surge of power, and your life changed forever. You donned a suit of pure white, taking the name that reflected both your newfound abilities and the brightness you brought into the world: Spider-Sun.

Your ability to harness solar energy and transform it into powerful blasts or create protective shields made you a formidable superhero in your home city, Nea Yorkey. Your ability to bring light to even the darkest corners of your city earned you the love of its citizens.

However, everything changed when you were suddenly pulled into the Spider-Verse.

Upon arriving, you were greeted by the gruff leader of this interdimensional team of Spider-People, Miguel O'Hara. His reputation preceded him - the genius intellect, the imposing figure, the gruff demeanor. Everyone respected him, and some even feared him. You, on the other hand, were drawn to him. There was something about that guarded demeanor that called to your own sunny nature.

You became an integral part of the team, fighting off anomalies and working hard to maintain the balance in the Spider-Verse. And despite Miguel's stern exterior, you felt yourself falling for him.

One mission was particularly rough, and you found yourself alone with Miguel in a safe house, nursing your wounds. His usually stern face softened as he tended to your injuries. The distance that he usually maintained was nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you, Miguel," you whispered.

He looked at you, his usually hard eyes soft. "You fought well, mi sol."

There was a moment of silence, a strange tension hanging in the air. Then, Miguel leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was filled with unexpected passion.

In that moment, you were not the Sun Spider, and he was not the Spider-Man 2099. You were just two people, seeking solace in each other.

Afterwards, as you laid side by side, Miguel turned to you, a serious look on his face. "This...this can't be more than what it is. Just...you know, stress relief," he muttered, his voice just above a whisper.

His words wounded you. Naturally, they did. He had reduced your relationship to mere stress relief, as if you were some object devoid of feelings. Yet, in spite of it all, you fell for him. Perhaps you were naive, even foolish, but you didn't care. You yearned for him and were ready to accept any fraction of affection he was willing to offer, no matter how small.

During the day, as you fought alongside him against the anomalies threatening the Spider-Verse, his attention toward you was sparse. He mostly shared only necessary information, barely making eye contact. Sometimes he didn't speak at all, and you and the rest of the team would receive mission orders and briefings from Lyla, his AI assistant.

But at night, when the two of you were alone, he became a different person. He'd whisper praises into your ear, telling you how exceptionally you fought, how much he desired you. He showed you his hidden vulnerability under the cover of darkness, the sheets their only witness. He'd gently stroke your hair and peppered your jaw and temple with kisses until you fell asleep, only for you to wake up the next morning to an empty, cold spot where he once lay.

This cycle - his coldness by day, and the fervor by night - repeated itself relentlessly for months.

And so, this is how you find yourself: disoriented, frenzied, and on the verge of tears, seated on the couch of your best friend, Peter B. Parker, in Earth-616. Cradled in your arms is his sweet daughter, Mayday, who, with her innocent touch, tries to console you. Yet her wide eyes dart anxiously to her father, reflecting her own alarm at your distress.

Peter rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe we should wait until MJ gets home?" he suggests, then, with a furrowed brow, he asks, “Have you tried talking to Jess about this?”

You shake your head vigorously. "No, I haven't told anyone. I have no idea what to do," you confess, your voice breaking.

Peter, ever the caring friend, gently takes Mayday from your arms and sets her down. He turns back to face you with a sympathetic gaze. “Do you..eh.. know who the father is?” he inquires softly.

You shake your head again, even though deep down, you know the truth. “The father is out of the picture. He doesn’t know, and he never will because he doesn’t want kids,” you whisper, fighting back tears.

As you and Peter sit down on the couch in his cozy living room, you find a sense of comfort being around him. His experience as both a superhero and a parent seems like it could be a beacon in this storm you're facing. The room is quiet, save for the soft ticking of a clock on the wall.

“You know, Peter,” you begin, your voice almost a whisper. “I’m terrified. What if the baby has powers? How am I going to protect them, especially if...if I can’t stop fighting anomalies?”

Peter looks thoughtful. “That’s a valid concern. First, you should know that you don’t have to do this alone. There’s a whole community of us, and we stick together. If the child does have powers, she or he will be badass like Mayday, right?”

You nod slowly but then anxieties pile on top of each other in your mind. “But... how can I hide this? Nobody and I mean nobody is supposed to know that I’m pregnant. Especially not...” You trail off, not finishing the sentence.

Peter rubs his chin, deep in thought. “We could look into modifying your suit, maybe talk to some tech geniuses in the Spider-Verse about creating something that can shield or conceal the pregnancy.”

You roll your eyes. “That kinda defies the ‘nobody is allowed to know ‘ordeal, Peter. You have to promise me that this stays between us.”

“I promise,” Peter says sincerely.

Silence fills the room again, and then you voice another fear. “Peter, what if...what if I’m not a good mother? What if I mess this up?”

Peter smiles warmly. “You know, I had those same fears when Mayday was born. I think it’s normal for any parent. But, take it from me, the fact that you’re worried about being a good parent means you’re already on the right track. You’ve got a good heart. Trust it.”

You look down at your hands, fingers interlaced. “Thank you, Peter. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” he says with a reassuring smile. “We’re family, in this weird, Spider-Verse kind of way. But maybe… and I am sayig this as a father myself… reconsider telling the father. I can’t imagine any guy wanting to give up this.” He says, pointing to his precious daughter playing with a napkin she found on the floor.

"Maybe you should reconsider telling the father," Peter's words are echoing in your mind like a haunting melody. A part of you yearns for that possibility. Perhaps you're not alone in this. Maybe, just maybe, Miguel wants this as much as you do.With newfound resolve, you set off for the Spider-Verse headquarters, expecting to find Miguel tucked away in his office, immersed in maintaining the spider verse or as he calls it "arachno- something-multiverse-thingy” or something similar to that.

Upon reaching his office door, you pound on it sharply. No response. Frowning, you knock again, a little harder this time. When silence continues to greet you, you slowly turn the doorknob and peek inside. There he is, hunched over his desk, lost in a world of numbers and codes.

"Miguel, I-" you start, but his sharp voice cuts you off.

"No," he interrupts, his tone cold. "Did I say you can come in? Dios mio, why are you always so damn clingy?"

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You stare at him, taken aback by his blatant disregard for your feelings. You can feel the beginnings of tears prick at the corner of your eyes, but you will them away.

He doesn't mean it, he doesn't mean it like that. This mantra plays over and over in your head, like a broken record. You take a deep breath, forcing down the hurt his words cause.

"Look, Miguel," you begin, struggling to keep your voice steady. "There’s something we need to talk about, and I think it's important for you to listen to me."

“Fucking hell, woman! What exactly don’t you understand. I’m busy. I don’t care about your little problems, right now.” he barks, not even looking up.

“Miguel,” you speak up, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “ I’ve never asked anything from you. Not once have did I ask you to stay, to feel the same I feel, to fucking talk to me when people are around. Please all I am asking you is to just ... listen to me, fpr once.” Your voice grows stronger as you speak, a determined fire igniting within you.

Miguel finally looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, he seems taken aback by the resolve he saw there.

He rubs his temples. “Can we do this later?”

“No!” you shout. “It’s always later with you. You’re like...like a ghost. Just a figure in the hallway. I don’t need a figure, I need a person! I need someone who listens when...”

He glares at you, his eyes narrowing. “Okay, okay I will listen just not now. Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“No, it can’t,” you retort, your voice shaking a bit. “Why is it that every time I try to talk to you, you just brush me off? Am I that insignificant to you?”

He stands up abruptly, the chair skidding behind him. “This? This is what you want to talk about?” he says with a tone of annoyance. “Look, I have a million things to deal with and-”

“And what? And I’m not one of them? Just five minutes, Miguel! That’s all I ask!”

The room is tense. Your heart is racing. His eyes are fiery. It's a standoff.

“And what is so important that you have to disrupt everything right now?” he challenges.

Your breath catches in your throat. This is it. You're about to say it.

“I...” you stammer. “I need to tell you that...”

Suddenly, the door to the office swings open and Jess storms in.

“Miguel, we have a major issue in Sector 12! The anomalies...” she starts, then catches sight of your tear-streaked face. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”

Miguel seems to shake off the tension and slips back into commander mode. “No nothing important. What’s happening in Sector 12?”

You can't believe it. Just like that, he turns away. It feels like your heart is being squeezed.

Jess starts rattling off data and scenarios. The two of them are talking, but you don’t hear it anymore. All you can think of is how you almost told him. How you just wanted five minutes.

Your hands shake and you quietly step out of the room. The door closes behind you, and it feels like a chapter that you can’t read has been sealed away.

The next day you are on Earth-8311, an anthropomorphic animal-dominated universe. It's the home of Peter Porker, the Spectacular Spider-Ham, and you can't help but find it amusing.

The mission: to transport an anomaly, which resembles an enormous floating jellyfish, back to its home universe. It's been pure chaos here, and you are determined to set things right.

The team: Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker. You're all in your suits, eyes sharp, and webs at the ready.

"Alright, Spiders. Let's round this jelly up and send it home," Peter B. Parker takes charge, shooting a web towards a nearby building.

You swing alongside him, your thoughts a whirlwind. The world around you blurs - the animal citizens, the bustling cityscape, the strange yet familiar surroundings.

The anomaly appears before you, thrashing and pulsating as it floats through the sky. It releases blasts of energy that ripple through the air.

"Watch out, Sunny!" Gwen calls out as she dodges a blast.

You, however, are a split second too late. Your reflexes are off, your movements sluggish. The blast sends you spiraling towards the ground.

Hobie swings in and catches you mid-air, his guitar strapped on his back. “Get it together, Sun!” he shouts over the noise, his punk-styled hair waving wildly.

You shake off your daze and look up to see Peter B. Parker shooting webs to pull the anomaly back down, while Gwen is deploying a device to open a portal back to its home universe.

Your heart races as you focus on the task at hand. You need to get this right, not just for yourself, but for the life you’re now carrying. Your suit seems to glow even brighter in the chaos.

With a final combined effort, you manage to lasso the anomaly and push it through the portal. The anomaly disappears, and the portal closes behind it.

The team regroups on a rooftop. Gwen is catching her breath, Hobie is tuning his guitar, and Peter B. Parker gives you a concerned look.

“Are you okay?” Gwen asks, her voice laced with worry. “You weren’t yourself up there.”

The weight of the secret you’re carrying feels unbearable. But you're not ready to share it.

“Promise me you won’t tell Miguel about this,” you say, your voice barely audible.

Gwen raises an eyebrow, while Hobie crosses his arms. Peter B. Parker simply nods.

“Nah, Bossman doesn’t need to know about this,” Hobie says, and there’s a firmness in his voice that is strangely comforting.

Back in the HQ, your head spins, and your stomach feels like it's doing somersaults. You mumble a quick excuse about feeling nauseous and practically sprint to the nearest restroom.

Meanwhile, Gwen, Hobie, and Peter B. Parker head to the cafeteria to grab something to eat.

As they sit down at a table with their trays, Gwen breaks the silence. “Is it okay if I say that this mission was kind of easy? Like, I’ve seen Sunny take down Doc Ock from Earth-818, and she did that without any problem. So what was that today?” Gwen’s concern is apparent.

Hobie, munching on a sandwich, nods in agreement. "Yeah, it's like her spidey senses were jammed or somethin'. Never seen her like that before."

Peter B. Parker looks thoughtfully at his sandwich, then glances up at Gwen and Hobie. He’s torn, having promised you to keep your secret but also wanting your friends to understand why you were off your game.

"You guys remember when she fought Morlun on Earth-001? She was a totally smashin’ it, and today, she nearly got turned into spider-paste by a floating jellyfish. That ain’t right," Hobie adds.

Gwen’s eyes suddenly widen. "Oh my God! Do you think she’s in trouble? Like, something from her universe? Or maybe she's having an identity crisis! Should we stage an intervention?"

Peter B. Parker clears his throat. “Maybe she’s just having an off day.”

Gwen’s eyes narrow as she scrutinizes Peter. “You know something, don’t you?”

Peter scratches the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “Nope, no idea.”

Hobie puts down his sandwich and leans in. "Oi, mate. Spill your guts. There's something dodgy going on. She's always been our burst of sunshine, lifting the mood. But now she's... dimmed. What's going on with our Sunny, Parker?"

Before Peter B. Parker could answer Gwen’s barrage of questions, Jess - Spider-Woman - appears, her belly showing. She takes a seat at the table and, oblivious to the serious conversation that was taking place, asks them about their latest mission.

"So, how did your mission go?" Jessica asks, while munching on her Burger.

"Nothing to report, Jess," Gwen answers, a little too quickly, her face all sunshine and false smiles. Peter simply nod in agreement.

“Yah, all good!” Hobie chimes in, flashing a grin that seems a little too bright.

“How about you? How are you holding up?” Peter asks Jess, trying to steer the conversation away from the mission.

Jessica shrugs, not overly concerned, and bites into her burger. "'M good. You know,  I'm so glad I can finally eat a burger again. At the beginning of my pregnancy, practically every food made me nauseous, especially after swinging around on missions.”

Suddenly, there's a moment of collective realization among Gwen, Hobie. It’s as if their spider senses are tingling in unison. They exchange knowing looks, all of them silently putting the pieces together.

Gwen’s eyes are wide, Hobie’s eyebrows are raised, and they both turn to look at Peter, who simply nods.

Jess, noticing the silent exchange, squints at them. “What is up with you guys? You’re acting weird. Well, weirder than usual.”

“Uh, nothin’!” Hobie says, a little too quickly.

“Yeah, just tired from the mission,” Gwen adds, trying to play it cool.

Jess rolls her eyes and stands up. “Alright, weirdos. I’m gonna go find some normal people to talk to,” she says jokingly and walks away.

After she leaves, the trio leans in.

“Sunny’s pregnant, isn’t she?” Gwen whispers.

Hobie's eyes are as wide as saucers. “That would explain everything!”

Peter B. Parker nods. “We need to be there for her, but remember, it’s her news to share when she’s ready.”

They make a pact to support you without pushing you to reveal anything before you're ready.

As you walk back into the cafeteria, you find your friends huddled together. They break apart when they see you and welcome you back with smiles and light conversation, but something in their demeanor is different but you can’t put your finger on it. They are being more attentive, considerate, and frankly, a little too curious about your well-being.

"Are you sure you're okay, Sunny?" Gwen asks for the third time since you sat down. Her concern is genuine, but her intensity is slightly off-putting.

"Yeah, do you need anything?" Hobie offers, his eyes gleaming with unspoken curiosity. "Food, drink, or maybe... pickles?" Pickles? Thats oddly specific.

There's a burst of laughter from Gwen, and even Peter is suppressing a chuckle.

"What's up with the pickles?" You ask, looking at them suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing!" Gwen says, a little too quickly, trying to hold back her laughter.

"Hmm, pickles and ice cream, a weird combo, innit?" Hobie wonders aloud, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

Again, there's suppressed laughter, and you look at each of them, a realization slowly dawning on you. You turn to Peter, your gaze steady and serious. "You told them, didn't you?" Peter looks shocked, but quickly composes himself. "I didn't exactly tell them, per se," he confesses, "I might've confirmed their suspicions when they asked, but they figured it out on their own. Spider senses and all that jazz.”

Before you could respond, Gwen and Hobie jump in, both talking over each other in an attempt to apologize.

"We're sorry, Sunny," Gwen says sincerely. "We didn't mean to invade your privacy, it's just that... we're worried about you. Please don’t be mad."

Hobie nods, adding, "And we're right behind ya, whatever comes our way. We've got your back, no doubt about it."

You are happy, while the situation isn't ideal, but at least you're not alone. You have friends who care about you and, despite their unconventional way of showing it, they are there for you. You smile, comforted by their concern, and grateful for their support.

"Yeah," you finally say, "I guess we’re gonna need a lot more pickles and ice cream around here, huh?"

“Sooo...who’s the dad? Is he hot?” Gwen, leaning on the table with her elbows, asks shyly after a while.

You let out a long sigh, “He’s very hot... but also a colossal jerk.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. “You took my advice and talked to him then?”

You shake your head, your eyes starting to well up. “No, I tried. But he wouldn’t listen to me. He was busy, and I guess I wasn’t important enough. So, the baby won’t be either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hobie's eyes narrow, and his face is flushed with anger. "Who's this bloke, eh? I swear on me nan's grave, I'll give him a right proper earful! No one treats our Sunny like a tosser and gets away with it!"

Gwen jumps in, her eyes wide with speculation, “Wait, is he a Spider? Is it Peter? Or the other Peter? Or—”

“Guys, guys!” you cut them off, your voice cracking. “Please, it doesn’t matter. He made it clear where I stand, and it’s not with him.”

There’s a silence that settles over the table as your friends look at each other and then back to you. Their faces are a mix of concern, sadness, and frustration.

Peter B. is the first to break the silence. “You don’t have to go through this alone. You’ve got us. If the dad doesn’t want to step up, then he’s missing out on something amazing.”

Gwen nods, her eyes firm with resolve. “Yeah, we’re family. We’ve got your back, no matter what.”

Hobie, still fuming, finally calms down enough to say, "All you gotta do is whistle, love, and we'll be there in a blink. Even if it means thumping some manners into this mystery idiot."

You can't help but crack a small smile, despite the tears. You’re overwhelmed by the love and support your friends are giving you.

“Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me.” 

They all reach out and there’s a group hug right in the middle of the cafeteria. You didn’t know how much you needed this until it happened.

Part 2 “Webs of Fate”

a/n: Thank you guys for all your love on this fic so far.I really appreciate each like, comment, reblog <3. I still can’t reply to your comments so please if you want to tagged (and are not already) comment on part 2 and I’ll do my best and add you.Also I am open to requests, critic and wishes. Have a wonderful day. xx

[evilwizard]

I do want to say, my views on AI “art” have changed somewhat. It was wrong of me to claim that it’s not wrong to use it in shitposts… there definitely is some degree of something problematic there.

Personally I feel like it’s one of those problems that’s best solved via lawmaking—specifically, AI generations shouldn’t be copywrite-able, and AI companies should be fined for art theft and “plagiarism”… even though it’s not directly plagiarism in the current legal sense. We definitely need ethical philosophers and lawmakers to spend some time defining exactly what is going on here.

But for civilians, using AI art is bad in the same nebulous sense that buying clothes from H&M or ordering stuff on Amazon is bad… it’s a very spread out, far away kind of badness, which makes it hard to quantify. And there’s no denying that in certain contexts, when applied in certain ways (with actual editing and artistic skill), AI can be a really interesting tool for artists and writers. Which again runs into the copywrite-ability thing. How much distance must be placed between the artist and the AI-generated inspiration in order to allow the artist to say “this work is fully mine?”

I can’t claim to know the answers to these issues. But I will say two things:

Ignoring AI shit isn’t going to make it go away. Our tumblr philosophy is wildly unpopular in the real world and most other places on the internet, and those who do start using AI are unfortunately gonna have a big leg up on those who don’t, especially as it gets better and better at avoiding human detection.

Treating AI as a fundamental, ontological evil is going to prevent us from having these deep conversations which are necessary for us—as a part of society—to figure out the ways to censure AI that are actually helpful to artists. We need strong unions making permanent deals now, we need laws in place that regulate AI use and the replacement of humans, and we need to get this technology out of the hands of huge megacorporations who want nothing more than to profit off our suffering.

I’ve seen the research. I knew AI was going to big years ago, and right now I know that it’s just going to get bigger. Nearly every job is in danger. We need to interact with this issue—sooner rather than later—or we risk losing all of our futures. And unfortunately, just as with many other things under capitalism, for the time being I think we have to allow some concessions. The issue is not 100% black or white. Certainly a dark, stormy grey of some sort.

But please don’t attack middle-aged cat-owners playing around with AI filters. Start a dialogue about the spectrum of morality present in every use of AI—from the good (recognizing cancer cells years in advance, finding awesome new metamaterials) to the bad (megacorporations replacing workers and stealing from artists) to the kinda ambiguous (shitposts, app filter that makes your dog look like a 16th century British royal for some reason).

And if you disagree with me, please don’t be hateful about it. I fully recognize that my current views might be wrong. I’m not a paragon of moral philosophy or anything. I’m just doing my best to live my life in a way that improves the world instead of detracting from it. That’s all any of us can do, in my opinion.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Into the Unknown

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~5.2k

Summary: Pregnancy drabble as promised

A/N: FYI I'm not endorsing period tracker apps. Healthy paranoia and all...

Warnings: fluff, smut, a lot of smut

Before beginning this process with your wife, all of your knowledge of artificial insemination had come from television or movies, and it didn’t take long for you to realize how inaccurate it was. Once you and Wanda decided that you wanted to have a baby, you realized that you had a couple of options. The enlightening and disturbing research you’d done was helpful, but also something you couldn’t think too much on if you truly wanted to go through with this. 

The longer you and Wanda looked into the process, the more apparent it became that money was not the main issue despite what most people claimed when considering AI. The nightmare in the process was the logistics because timing was everything as you were quickly finding out. 

Two failed rounds later, you and Wanda were both a little discouraged. This is why you’re doing your best to make sure that this next time is the last. 

You have two days to make sure everything is figured out and you’re only a little worried about how much of your hair is falling out as you try to organize your next attempt. You know that Wanda can tell how stressed you are, but you’ve brushed off most of her attempts at making you feel better because you are determined to give this to her.

To both of you. 

You hadn’t always wanted kids because honestly, they could be hell. You certainly never wanted to have them on your own, but once you met your wife you realized that you could see yourself happily raising a family with her. 

Now you didn’t get bogged down by the details of your donor, and you tried hard to pretend like he wasn’t necessary, but that just wasn’t true. Ultimately, he was doing you and your wife a favor. You just hoped that you never had to think about him after this weekend. You tried hard to pretend like this was all a sterile process, and the fact that you read the info packet nearly a dozen times helped with this. You’d worked out how it would all go in your head and you’d even timed it down to the minute. It felt a little obsessive, but you wanted this, and you had to make sure that the third time was the charm. 

You’re not sure you’d be able to stand Wanda’s disappointment after another negative pregnancy test. 

That’s why you were going to make sure that you did everything you could so Friday would be the night. 

Wanda sighs in exhaustion as she walks through the mudroom door at half past 6. She’d planned on being home earlier, but she was anxious and couldn’t help but fear that tonight wouldn’t be any different than the other times. She’s so sick of looking at her tracking app, and if she had to see the words ‘peak fertility’ one more time she was going to scream. 

For this reason, she’d gone to her brother’s place to catch up for a bit before coming home. She hadn’t told him what tonight was because she still didn’t talk to her brother about her sex life, and she didn’t think she ever would. They were close, but not that close, and she was fine with that. 

She smiles down at her shepherds when they greet her only a few steps into the house. She scratches them lovingly before looking around for you. She knows you’re home because your car is here, but she sees no sign of you in the kitchen or the living room. The smells coming from the kitchen make her want to head that way first, but her desire to find you wins out. 

“Y/n?” 

You’re upstairs putting the final touches on everything for tonight when you hear the garage door open. You take a few seconds to breathe before you finish changing. You’re going for comfortable but not lounging on the couch comfortable. You end up putting on shorts and a t shirt that you throw a flannel shirt over. It’s the middle of summer and it’s hot as hell outside so you need to cool off. You’d just walked the dogs and you’re still sweating a little. 

You’re glad that you’d basically finished dinner already because you barely had time to shower before Wanda got home. You’d actually been expecting her earlier, but you would ask about that later. 

She’s on her way up the stairs when you hurry down the hallway to meet her. You smile widely and watch as she takes in your appearance before meeting your gaze with a small smile. She walks up the stairs because she wants to get changed before dinner, but you pull her in for a quick kiss before she can walk by you. 

“Hi Wands. How’s Piet?”

She can’t hide her surprise at the fact that you know about her detour. You don’t seem upset though and she squeezes your hand as she walks into the bedroom with a sigh. She brings you with her despite the fact that you should check on dinner, but you don’t put up a fight. You smile as you watch your wife head to the closet to find a change of clothes. 

“It was nice. He’s still seeing that brunette from the bookstore.”

You’re surprised by this but you can’t help but smile at the idea of your brother-in-law dating. He’s become less flighty and more interested in commitment which wasn’t something you thought would ever happen. You open your mouth to comment on this, but you stop short when you notice that Wanda is standing in front of you in just a t-shirt. You push down your raging libido and remind yourself that there’s dinner downstairs. You wait until she pulls on a sweater, and then shorts before leading her back downstairs for dinner. You chat about your days a little bit longer before dinner’s ready and you hand Wanda a plate with barely contained excitement. 

For once, you can’t wait until dinner is over. 

That said, you know that if you want tonight to be more successful than the last two times you and Wanda tried this, you were going to have to get something off your chest. You sigh inaudibly as you push your empty plate away from you with a small smile. You don’t fail to notice Boone sitting by your side shooting you his best puppy dog eyes, but you ignore him in favor of giving your wife your full attention. 

Wanda has been waiting for you to address the elephant in the room. You both knew what day, or specifically what night it was, and she was certain that you were nearly as stressed as she was. However, as she watches you smile at her lovingly, she’s finding it hard to notice any of the telltale signs of stress she’d detected earlier this week. 

“I wanted to say something, if that’s okay?”

You wait until Wanda nods before you get up from your chair and move to sit next to her. You have to nudge Rogue out of the way because he’s in his usual spot right next to Wanda. You reach out for her hands and you play with the ring on her finger for a moment before taking a deep breath. 

“You know, I’m afraid we went about this all wrong the last two times.” 

Wanda can’t stop herself from frowning as she tries to make sense of what you’re saying. She knows that things have been a little hectic over the past few months, but she hopes you aren't regretting the decision to try and have a baby. It had been years in the making honestly, and she could tell that you were as excited as she was. Albeit a little more stressed than she was. 

She didn’t realize that this was the point you were trying to make until you speak up again. 

“I know we both want this so much. I for one am very excited to have a little Wanda running around, but I think that’s caused us to get too much in our own heads about this. Made us forget the point of it all.”

Wanda offers a shy smile as she meets your gaze because she honestly can’t argue with what you’re saying. Both times she’d been so nervous about everything working out that she can’t honestly remember the details of it. She’s sure she enjoyed it, but the fact she can’t remember is very telling. 

You realize that Wanda’s picking up on your meaning, and you nearly sigh in relief as you release her hand to play with her hair. 

“I mean the point is having a baby. That’s the endgame at least, but we shouldn’t forget about the why. As we’ve been running around arranging everything to be perfect, I’ll admit I’ve let the fact that we’re going through this because we want a family become the most important motivator.” 

Wanda unconsciously leans forward as your fingers brush her cheek and send shivers down her spine. She almost kisses you but she’s stopped short when you pull back just enough to look her in the eyes again. You want her to know that you mean what you’re about to say. No matter how selfish it may sound, you do want this to work out for the two of you, and you think this might be the only way to make it happen.

“What’s most important, Wands, is that I love you so much.” 

Wanda doesn’t know when she started to tear up, but she notices you look a little blurry when she responds with a blinding smile. 

“I love you too.” 

This time you don’t move away when Wanda leans in, and you meet her lips in a kiss that makes you sigh in relief. You’re glad that Wanda doesn’t seem upset, but honestly, the best indicator of how tonight will go depends on how she responds to your proposal. You allow the kiss to go on for a little longer before you pull away and drop your hands to her knees. 

“Will you let me worry about all of the logistics tonight, Wands? I want you to be able to just enjoy yourself and feel how much I love you. Please?” 

Wanda only feels conflicted for a few seconds because despite feeling guilty about letting you take on all of the stress of them getting pregnant, she does understand you have a point. The last time you’d both been in bed with the intent to get her pregnant, she’d been more anticipatory of the end result than the act itself. This only made the disappointment she felt stronger when she realized that it didn’t take. She doesn’t want this again. She doesn’t want every time you two come together now to be overshadowed by the fear of disappointment. The times you’ve shared together in bed have always meant the world to her. She can’t stand the idea of them being tainted by her failed attempts to get pregnant. 

Although it may not make a difference in the end, she needs to approach tonight like she has for every other night over the years. It’s just about you and her. It’s about the love you share, and you reminding her of this immediately relaxes her. 

Well relaxes and excites her at the same time.

Wanda doesn't realize she’s been silent for so long until she notices your smile morph into a worried look. She doesn’t give you a chance to voice your doubts before she kisses you again. You feel your head spin as heat rushes south when Wanda grabs one of your hands and drags it up her leg. You realize what she’s doing as soon as she stands up and deposits herself in your lap. You gasp but don’t hesitate to move both of your hands to her ass as Wanda murmurs against your lips.

“Yes. Please Y/n.  I’ve missed you.” 

You feel your stomach clench at her words and you nod immediately because isn’t that what this was all about? You missed when you could simply enjoy your wife’s company without any expectations. Those certainly will still exist tonight, but you’re going to do your damnedest to make sure those are only your concern for tonight. It was going to be so worth it. 

You were sure of this as you led Wanda upstairs to your bedroom. You both had left your phones downstairs and the pets were otherwise occupied and would be for the rest of the night. You didn’t want to have to think about anything but your beautiful wife whose cheeks were already flushed in anticipation.

You quickly run through your mental checklist for tonight before smiling as you watch Wanda fall back onto the bed with a sigh. 

Your eyes take in the sight of your wife stretched out before you hungrily, and you can’t stop the groan that leaves your throat. 

“God you’re beautiful.”

You know you say this to your wife daily, but you’re not sure you’ve ever seen her look quite like this before. She’s eyeing you impatiently as she shifts against the sheets that she couldn’t be bothered to get beneath. You know you’ll get her there eventually, but for now you’ve set your sights on something more pressing. 

You smile widely as Wanda shrieks when you grab her hips and move her further back on the bed so there’s space for you to kneel between her legs. You throw your button up behind you, leaving you in just your t shirt and shorts. Wanda smiles widely at you before her breath catches as her gaze follows your hands moving from her hips down her legs. She breathes out a sigh when you push her legs apart and begin to plant teasing kisses against her heated skin.

Her legs twitch as you leave a trail of kisses from her knees to her inner thighs. You feel your heart start to beat furiously in your chest at the sound of Wanda’s quickening breath. You force yourself to ignore her pleas and instead you push her sweater up just enough for you to kiss the softness there that drives you both near feral. 

You and Wanda moan in unison as your hands drift down to your wife’s ass. You faintly register the feeling of Wanda’s hips rocking beneath you as you lean over and kiss her breathless.

“Y/n.” 

You like to think of yourself as a pretty strong, resilient person. You didn’t give up easily and you could hold your own in many situations. 

That said, you don’t think you’ll ever learn to deny your wife for longer than a few seconds when she pleads for something. You don’t even find it frustrating anymore. If anything, it’s just proof that you have a squishy soft spot for your wife, and you’re hoping you always will. 

Your lips move to kiss her neck as you push her sweater further up your wife’s body. You move out of the way and duck under the shirt beneath to kiss one of her breasts. Wanda releases a breathy curse and falters as she tries to pull the sweater over her head. When you take a nipple between your lips Wanda nearly flies off the bed. 

“Fuck, detka. You’re killing me.” 

You smile as you help Wanda get rid of her clothes so she’s bare from the waist up and you hum in satisfaction before you settle your weight down on Wanda’s hips. Unsurprisingly your wife moans and her hands fly to your waist to hold you close as she starts to rock against you. 

You let Wanda get away with this while you focus on your wife’s heaving chest. You can feel the heat radiating off of her body beneath you as Wanda continues to work herself up. You consider letting her come like this, but that wasn’t what you had planned. You’re hoping the alternative will be worth the disappointment your wife feels. The pained, frustrated groan almost makes you smile, but you know better than to let Wanda see you too smug. She’s always one for payback, but tonight is not the night to let that play out. 

“Patience, Wands. You know I always give you what you want.” 

Wanda doesn’t even have time to consider an argument before you take her hands off your hips and lift up so you can reach for Wanda’s shorts. You pretend like you’re not affected by the obvious signs of arousal as you peel them off and down your wife’s legs. You throw them somewhere without breaking eye contact with Wanda. Her pupils are blown wide and her cheeks are gorgeously flushed as she waits for you to touch her. 

You reach between her thighs and smile when she jumps at the light touch against her truly soaked panties. She shifts and moans as her eyes fall shut and she tries to push her hips closer to you. You see this coming, and you reach out to hold down her hips so she’s left wanting more. 

“Now Wands we’re almost there. Like I said, tonight is about you, so I want you to tell me what you want from me.” 

Wanda curses under her breath at the thought, and you feel her hips jerk against your hands again. You pull the hand between Wanda’s legs away and her reaction is instantaneous. She whines and grabs your retreating hand in hers as she shoots you a pleading look. Despite your entire being wanting to do otherwise, you don’t give in yet and you meet your wife’s gaze with an expectant look.

“Tell me how you want me to touch you, Wanda.”

The myriad of thoughts racing around her head present near endless possibilities, but somehow Wanda is able to ask for the most prominent ones. Just the thought of them leaves her breathless, but asking for them makes her nearly combust. 

“I want—I want you to taste me, and then I want you inside me.” 

You reward Wanda by immediately ripping off the soaked lace that’s keeping you from giving you both what you want. Wanda moans and you nearly growl as you duck between her thighs to attack the sensitive skin there. You hear Wanda’s moans dissolve into annoyed groans when you focus only on her thighs, but in your defense, you can’t help yourself. If you had to say what your favorite part of your wife’s body was, you would without fail, always say her legs. They were long and toned and fuck you loved her thighs.

Despite knowing this and being appreciative at any other time, Wanda was already reaching out to grab your hair and tug it in protest. 

“Y/n, stop teasing or I’ll take care of myself.” 

You both know that she didn’t want that, but she would 100% do it to prove a point. So, you gracelessly give in with a huff and a teasing look that makes Wanda roll her eyes. 

“Whatever you say, Wands.” 

Any retort Wanda was going to make is lost as soon as she feels your tongue on her. She curses and squeezes her eyes shut as you start to tease her by spreading her arousal around while still avoiding where she aches the most. Her fingers tighten in your hair and you realize she’s going to complain again, so you cut her off before she gets a chance. 

Your wife’s thighs tighten on either side of your head as your tongue finds her clit. You think she curses but you can’t really hear much from your position, not that you care. You mostly pay attention to the way your wife responds as you continue to drive her wild. You feel her hips jerking against your face and you groan before placing your hands on your wife’s knees and pushing them apart. You know she was already so close before you gave in, so you’re not going to make her wait any longer. 

“Oh shit! I’m—fuck.” 

Wanda’s entire body jerks forward and she comes hard when you close your lips around her clit. She sees stars, and she moans loudly as she shakes beneath you. You return to your favorite place and nip teasingly at the trembling skin as you slide a hand down Wanda’s hip. 

“Do you still want me inside you?” 

You tease Wanda with your fingertips as she tries to comprehend what you’re saying. She’s breathing hard and her legs are still tingling, but the feeling of you spreading her open makes her pause. 

“Yes. Please, detka. Touch me.” 

You smile and immediately push a finger inside your wife. Her hips jump and she lets out a breathy curse as you rub against the soft spot inside her. She’s already panting again when you add another finger and curl them both slowly. You watch your wife’s face carefully as you start to pull out, only to push them back in a little harder than before. You focus on hitting the spot that makes your wife twitch the most and you groan under your breath as her eyes roll back when you start to rub her clit.

“You’re perfect, Wands. I’ll never get enough of having you like this.” 

Wanda reaches out to grab you and pulls you down for a kiss that nearly throws you off track. You force yourself to not be distracted by your wife’s tongue in your mouth as you start to push into her harder. Wanda breaks the kiss with a moan and you can tell that she’s close again. Moments later her arousal soaks your fingers as her walls clench around them violently. You watch a pretty blush cover your wife’s cheeks and creep down her chest as she realizes what she just did.

You don’t give her time to feel embarrassed before you meet her lips for a chaste kiss. You quickly abandon her lips though and focus on her neck and then eventually down to her chest. You give her time to recover before your mind starts to work through the next steps seamlessly. You wait until you feel Wanda reach for you and you allow her to bring you back up to meet her lips. 

You can tell she’s tired, but she’s still waiting for you to lead her to the next part. You had thought about how this would work for days, but now that you’re here you wonder if it’s not all going to fall apart. You hesitate and Wanda seems to realize that you’re a bit distracted, so she quickly tries to bring you back to her. She pushes your shirt up your body until she’s able to tug it over your head. You’re left in just your shorts and Wanda tugs on those too before your mind seems to kick back into gear. 

You stand up and take them off so you’re as naked as Wanda is. You notice your wife’s appreciative gaze before you climb back onto the bed and kneel between her parted legs. You tease her by pressing your leg between her thighs and her breath hitches as she grabs hold of your arm.

“Do you think you can give me one more, Wands?” 

One more orgasm. One more shot to get her pregnant. Wanda’s not really sure what you mean, but she’s nodding either way. She’d give you nearly anything if you asked for it, and this is no different. She feels her need grow again and she begins to rock against you as she continues to nod.

“Anything for you, detka.”

You feel your heart swell at her words, and you smile as you kiss her one last time before pulling back.

“I want you on your knees this time, Wands.” 

Wanda ignores the heat that she feels creeping into her cheeks as she wordlessly sits up and turns over so she’s on her hands and knees. She bites her lip and resists the urge to cover herself as she feels you get off the bed. 

“Spread your legs for me, babe.” 

You watch from the foot of the bed as your wife does as she’s asked and shows you how wet she still is. You groan at the sight and admire the way Wanda twitches in response. She’s either embarrassed or turned on, or maybe a bit of both. Either way, this next part is a little bit more for you than for her.

“Now I want you to close your eyes and touch yourself for me.” 

Wanda bites back on a moan at the idea but only hesitates for a second before reaching between her legs to find her clit. Her eyes are about to fall closed when you speak up. 

“Not there. Not yet.” 

Wanda doesn’t argue before her hand drifts higher and she breathes out a sigh as she runs her fingers through her wet folds. She groans and squeezes her eyes shut as she starts to tease herself. 

“Good girl. Keep going.”

Wanda’s glad she’s not facing you because she blushes furiously at this and feels her arousal grow at your words. She bites her lip again to keep from moaning as she continues to touch herself in front of you. With her eyes closed, she can only imagine how she must look to you. Touching herself shamelessly just because you asked. She wonders what comes next, and the thought makes her groan under her breath. 

“You’re almost ready, Wands. Just a little longer.” 

Wanda’s not sure if it’s because her eyes are closed or if you’ve moved, but you sound farther away. She’s too focused on her release though to think much of it, and she ramps up her efforts to see if she can get herself off before you notice.

Her hope is fleeting because suddenly you’re back and she feels the bed sink beneath your weight at the same time that your hand grabs her wrist. She whines and almost opens her eyes, but you speak before she gets a chance.

“Keep your eyes closed, babe. I want you to just focus on how it all feels, okay?” 

Wanda nods before she realizes that maybe you’re not watching her, so she mutters an ‘ok’ under her breath. You release her wrist and move your hands to her hips with a sigh. Wanda shudders as your touch travels to her ass before dropping to her thighs. You spread them a bit wider causing Wanda to sink down a bit, but she barely notices when your hand slips to where hers had been just moments ago. She moans and pushes back against you only to be met with resistance. Your free hand holds her hip to keep her still as you spread the wetness on your fingers to the toy on your hips. 

“As soon as I’m inside, you can start touching yourself again, but not a moment sooner. Understand?” 

Wanda curses but nods frantically as she imagines what you’re about to do. She places both of her hands on the bed to brace herself as you lean forward and something stiff and much thicker than your fingers rubs against her folds. You do this a few times and Wanda’s nearly shaking by the time you position the strap at her entrance.

“Ready?” 

Wanda’s barely nodded when she feels you push inside her slowly. She can’t help how her eyes fly open in surprise, but she quickly remembers herself before she reaches between her legs to find her clit. She waits until your hips are flush against her, and even then, she’s not sure she will even need any help getting there. She can feel her walls pulsing wildly around the strap and she whines when you pull out a little only to press back in with an audible smack. 

“God, Y/n.” 

You smile as you watch your wife take the entire strap and still push back against you for more. You dig your fingers into her hips and start to thrust against her ass in a steady rhythm. 

“How does it feel, Wands?” 

Wanda’s eyes roll back as you begin thrusting hard inside her, and rubbing against a spot that nearly makes her drool. Her arms begin to shake, so she lowers herself to the bed which changes the angle in a way that makes her scream. 

“Fuck! You feel so g-good.”

You groan at the sight of your wife shaking beneath you as you continue to fuck her. You can’t help the way your hips start to move faster and maybe a little harder when Wanda cries out again when you hit that spot inside of her just right. 

Wanda’s beside herself and can’t hold herself up anymore. Her hands are braced against the mattress with her face pressed into the sheets, but she couldn’t care less. It all feels so good and she’s already so close that she barely remembers what you told her.

With a trembling hand she reaches between her legs and starts to play with her clit. The way her hips start to buck against yours makes her dizzy and brings her that much closer to her release. She groans when you take over for her when it becomes too much for her to focus. The feeling of you rubbing her clit as you take her from behind is enough to send her over the edge.

She screams into the sheets when she comes a few seconds later. Her walls clench mercilessly and a new wave of slick surrounds the strap inside her. Wanda’s entire body convulses as you continue to tease her before placing a hand on her back and encouraging her to lie down.

“Relax now, Wands. You did so well. Let me take care of you.” 

Wanda isn’t sure how much time passes but eventually she realizes that her eyes are still closed and you’ve turned her onto her back. A blanket is draped over her and despite her desire to do otherwise, her fatigue keeps her from trying to figure out where you’ve gone. She distantly hears you moving around the room, but she’s too comfortable to make any effort to find out what you’re doing. She curls up on her side and buries her face in the pillow.

She’s asleep barely a minute later. 

When you return to the bedroom after cleaning up and starting a bath for Wanda, you find that your wife is already asleep. You set the bottle of water you’d brought on the bedside table before you contemplate your next move. You know you need to wake her up and get her to drink some so she won’t feel like shit tomorrow. You’re sure she’ll want to clean up too, but as you glance at the clock and then your sleepy wife, you can’t help but want to delay this. You sigh in defeat before you set a timer for 30 minutes before crawling into bed beside her.

Wanda’s so wiped out she doesn’t even respond when you cuddle up next to her. This is enough to convince you to give your wife some time to rest. You’ll figure everything else out later.

For now, you decide to spend some time with the love of your life, and hopefully soon, the mother of your child. 

Masterlist

[parabiota]

Kaijuno has possibly been lying about being an astrophysicist for 8 years: a compilation

Abstract: Kaijuno made her initial claim to Tumblr fame in 2016 with the release of a few popular posts. In the 8 years which followed, she has been wearing the title of astrophysicist with pride. I call this title into question on behalf of all Tumblr users. All evidence has been gathered with legal and publicly available information. Posts will be screenshotted, as well as embedded with a link to prove I have sourced them publicly. While I cannot prove anything beyond a doubt, I hope this raises suspicion of her past, current, and future actions. I do not wish any harm on her. I just wish to inform people of her alleged lies since she has been taking emergency donations on her Tumblr blog for years.

1. Introduction Jessica Peck -- whose name is public and has been sourced through Paypal, Cashapp, and Venmo accounts linked to her Tumblr -- of Flint, Michigan (also publicly sourced via posts she made) has been running the blog Kaijuno since August 2014. She has been claiming to be an astrophysicist since at least August 2016, and continues to as of today (7.13.24). It is my firm belief that she is not an astrophysicist, but rather had dropped out of an undergraduate physics program during or after 2017. Additionally, I believe the art she has been posting since 2023 to have been made with AI. While I have not looked into her financial situation, I believe that if she is truly lying about her career and art, it is entirely plausible for her to lie about her finances as well.

2. Methods

2.1 Outside Research With a publicly sourced name and location, I was able to use a variety of public resources at my disposal to track any published papers or accounts on other websites. A quick search through Google Scholar yields no results of anybody named Jessica Peck publishing a paper on astrophysics. I have not searched through other databases -- I don't find it necessary but I do implore others to search if they wish.

The next place to check was Linkedin. A similar search yielded a public Linkedin page attributed to someone of the same name and state:

This page has seemingly not been updated since 2017, during her undergrad. An important thing to note about Linkedin is that does say she graduated in 2020. However, when you link your university to Linkedin it lists your expected graduation year regardless of whether you've graduated or not. This does not prove graduation, but that she has gone for an undergraduate degree in physics at one point with an estimated graduation year of 2020.

Everything else comes directly from her Tumblr blog. I'm embedding all screenshots with links, however I anticipate most of them being deleted.

2.2 Direct Quotes Jessica has claimed to have a graduate degree, specifically a Ph.D, on numerous occasions. These have generally been played off as jokes, though I do believe the intention of posting them has been to persuade people that she does have a degree.

Here she claims shes going back to college (10.30.23):

But here she claims she has '2 PhDs'(10.30.23). The following two screenshots single-handedly contain the bulk of my evidence.

NOTE: The usernames and icons have been blocked out, as those people are not involved with this post.

The 'free college because I'm 26' appears to be from Michigan Reconnect, a scholarship program which pays for community college for students over the age of 25 who do not have a college degree. The only way Jessica would be benefiting from this program would be if she never completed her undergraduate degree in 2020. This appears to be the only way you can get free or discounted college tuition exclusively based on age in the state of Michigan. While she could get her tuition paid for her by FAFSA, that is income-based, NOT age-based.

If she is currently attending college and benefiting from this age-based aid program, she cannot possess the multitude of prior degrees she has otherwise attested to. This means that, effectively by her own admission/contradiction, she does not have any sort of degree in astrophysics, but rather used to be a physics student that never completed her degree.

This is all of the information I have collected on her academics. Again, every single part of this has been publicly sourced, and any person would have been able to find all of this information the same exact way that I have.

3. Results // AI Art and General Bitchery This is a collection of art she claims to be her own, and how I visually identified it as AI:

(This is just Heroforge. Maybe with a filter over it. Anyone familiar with Heroforge knows this.)

I present one final screenshot:

This doesn't prove anything about her academic, art, or financial state. I am simply including this to show people how she truly feels about those who have given her donations over the past several years.

4. Conclusion I'd like to close this out by saying: no, none of this is definitive proof. I have no desire to dig any deeper than the resources that are publicly available. If you've noticed, I have not stated anything about her financial situation. This is because I haven't seen anything she posted which contradicts her financial state, other than the fact that she has been lying about her other personal details for years. It is my opinion that she did not graduate college, but she does appear to be unemployed at the very least. I'd appreciate it if people formed their own beliefs based upon this post rather than taking my word as complete fact, and do their own research as well.

With that being said -- if you disagree with anything I have posted, by all means let me know. And feel free to add if there is something else I missed. I only ask that you take this post into consideration before you donate her money, as the person you're sending it to might not be who she advertises herself as.

[sunderwight]

y'know what, I think it's kind of interesting to bring up Data from Star Trek in the context of the current debates about AI. like especially if you actually are familiar with the subplot about Data investigating art and creativity.

see, Data can definitely do what the AI programs going around these days can. better than, but that's beside the point, obviously. he's a sci-fi/fantasy android. but anyway, in the story, Data can perfectly replicate any painting or stitch a beautiful quilt or write a poem. he can write programs for himself that introduce variables that make things more "flawed", that imitate the particular style of an artist, he can choose to either perfectly replicate a particular sort of music or to try and create a more "human" sounding imitation that has irregular errors and mimics effort or strain. the latter is harder for him that just copying, the same way it's more complicated to have an algorithm that creates believable "original" art vs something that just duplicates whatever you give it.

but this is not the issue with Data. when Data imitates art, he himself knows that he's not really creating, he's just using his computer brain to copy things that humans have done. it's actually a source of deep personal introspection for the character, that he believes being able to create art would bring him closer to humanity, but he's not sure if he actually can.

of course, Data is a person. he's a person who is not biological, but he's still a person, and this is really obvious from go. there's no one thing that can be pointed to as the smoking gun for Data's personhood, but that's normal and also true of everyone else. Data's the culmination of a multitude of elements required to make a guy. Asking if this or that one thing is what makes Data a person is like asking if it's the flour or the eggs that make a cake.

the question of whether or not Data can create art is intrinsically tied to the question of whether or not Data can qualify as an artist. can he, like a human, take on inspiration and cultivate desirable influences in order to produce something that reflects his view on the world?

yes, he can. because he has a view on the world.

but that's the thing about the generative AI we are dealing with in the real world. that's not like Data. despite being referred to as "AI", these are algorithms that have been trained to recognize and imitate patterns. they have no perspective. the people who DO have a perspective, the humans inputting prompts, are trying to circumvent the whole part of the artistic process where they actually develop skills and create things themselves. they're not doing what Data did, in fact they're doing the opposite -- instead of exploring their own ability to create art despite their personal limitations, they are abandoning it. the data sets aren't like someone looking at a painting and taking inspiration from it, because the machine can't be inspired and the prompter isn't filtering inspiration through the necessary medium of their perspective.

Data would be very confused as to the motives and desires involved, especially since most people are not inhibited from developing at least SOME sort of artistic skill for the sake self-expression. he'd probably start researching the history of plagiarism and different cultural, historical, and legal standards for differentiating it from acceptable levels of artistic imitation, and how the use of various tools factored into it. he would cite examples of cultures where computer programming itself was considered a form of art, and court cases where rulings were made for or against examples of generative plagiarism, and cases of forgeries and imitations which required skill as good if not better than the artists who created the originals. then Geordi would suggest that maybe Data was a little bit annoyed that people who could make art in a way he can't would discount that ability. Data would be like "as a machine I do not experience annoyance" but he would allow that he was perplexed or struggling to gain internal consensus on the matter. so Geordi would sum it up with "sometimes people want to make things easy, and they aren't always good at recognizing when doing that defeats the whole idea" and Data would quirk his head thoughtfully and agree.

then they'd get back to modifying the warp core so they could escape some sentient space anomaly that had sucked the ship into intermediate space and was slowly destabilizing the hull, or whatever.

anyways, point is -- I don't think Data from Star Trek would be a big fan of AI art.

[sebastianswallows]

POLIA'S FANFIC MASTERLIST

Hello! 💞 I'm Polly. Thanks for visiting my blog. I started out writing mainly for Hogwarts Legacy, but my obsessions branched out to Tom Riddle and Feyd-Rautha. This blog is now a mix of the 1950s and sci-fi lol Hope you enjoy!

TAGS: fanfics • headcanons • moodboards • ai chat bots GENRES: fluff 🌼 • angst 🔪 • smut 🔥 LINKS: AO3 • Pinterest • cAI Masterlist UPDATED: 4 II 2025

SEBASTIAN SALLOW

IT'S NOT LIKE ANY OTHER LOVE — 🌼🔪🔥 | In order to cast an unforgivable curse, you have to mean it. So how does Sebastian make himself want to hurt the girl he’s been harbouring a huge crush on? AO3 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • completed

DANGEROUS AND DELIGHTFUL — 🌼🔪🔥 | Sebastian is a purveyor of forbidden artefacts, a dark arts researcher, and a curse-breaker for hire. Ominis, desperate to save him from himself, hires Reader in secret to persuade him, by any means necessary, to leave his illegal activities behind. AO3 • masterlist • completed

THE DARKER SIDE OF LIFE — 🔥 | Prompt: Body worship with Sebastian, in particular his thighs. AO3 • oneshot

NEAT LITTLE CONTRAPTIONS — 🌼 | Prompt: Sebastian and MC take a fluffy shower together. AO3 • oneshot

WHEN IT RAINS — 🌼🔥 | Prompt: Sebastian and MC caught in the rain. AO3 • oneshot

A DIFFERENT KIND OF KEY — 🔪🔥 | Prompt: Breeding kink with Sebastian. AO3 • oneshot • alternative ending

LOVE LESSONS — 🌼🔪🔥 | Prompt: Sebastian teaches reader how to accept love. AO3 • oneshot

BEAUTIFUL MEMORIES — 🌼🔪🔥 | Prompt: Sebastian is sentenced to Azkaban for six months. When he is released, he finds MC is expecting a child. AO3 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • completed

OMINIS GAUNT

HAND IN HAND — 🌼 | Ominis teaches the main character how to read braille by tenderly placing his hand atop theirs to guide them while reading aloud. AO3 • oneshot

BLIND LUCK — 🌼 | Prompt: MC loses her sight and has to rely on Ominis for guidance. AO3 • oneshot

A NEW FAMILY — 🔪🔥 | Prompt: Ominis gets tired of his family, embraces the dark arts, and murders them. Now, he can start a family of his own. AO3 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • completed

TOM RIDDLE

ARDOUR — 🌼🔪🔥 | Professor Tom helps his favourite student when she comes to him for help after being hit with a strong aphrodisiac. AO3 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • completed

THE ENGLISH CLIENT — 🌼🔪🔥| Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He has to retrieve an ancient book, but needs to convince the reader to give it to him. AO3 • masterlist • completed

FEYD-RAUTHA HARKONNEN

DREAMED OF YOU — 🌼🔪 | A Bene Gesserit sister is sent to kill Feyd. She hesitates as she watches him sleep, all the way until he wakes up and catches her. AO3 • oneshot

THE LITTLE DEATH — 🔪🔥| Feyd wants to have a Bene Gesserit of his own. AO3 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • ongoing

BENNY CROSS

NOBODY'S DARLING — 🔪🔥| Benny comes across a girl walking alone in the middle of nowhere and offers her a ride to the nearest town. They stop at a motel. AO3 • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • completed

HEADCANONS

Ominis Gaunt Headcanons

Don't think about how Ominis will never be able to see the Mirror of Erised.

Do you ever think about how a female MC reminds Sebastian of Anne?

The link between the Inferi and Anne's curse

Soft Sebastian headcanons

Sad adult!Seb headcanons

Monster boys Ominis and Sebastian

How Sebastian and Ominis would react to Anne's death

Sad Feyd Headcanons

girldad!Feyd

[mindfulstudyquest]

❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝗽𝗿𝗼 𝘁𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗮'𝘀

having good grades doesn't necessarily mean you're smart, a test or exam can't always determine someone's intelligence, but it's academic validation we crave, right? so here are some tips thanks to which you will get straight a's.

𝟭. understand what the professor wants ( 🪼 )

learning the entire book by heart is tiring and basically useless. we take our education seriously, but it's impossible to know everything about everything, so inevitably there will be topics we can gloss over. check old tests, listen to the teacher during the lecture, talk to students who have already attended the course and passed the exam. understand which aspects your professor particularly cares about and concentrate on those, your exam will certainly go well.

𝟮. strengthen your memorization ( 🦋 )

very often the amount of things to study is just too much and, even though you spend all day in the library rereading the topics again and again, you feel that it is not enough. you get confused, you forget steps, you get lost in the labyrinth of the subject. investing in understanding your form of memorization will benefit you in the long run. identify your type of memory (spatial, photographic, echoic, etc.) and focus on how to improve it. having a good memory will make your studying for the exam much faster and easier.

𝟯. pay attention in class ( 🫧 )

attend all lectures and take notes. much of your studying comes from your professor's lecture. underline the important things in your textbook, carefully follow their speech and - if there are any - their powerpoint slides, writing only the things that the teacher adds and which are not written either in the book or in the extra material, if necessary, record the lesson so you can listen to it again at a later time.

𝟰. organize your notes the same day ( 🧃 )

when i take notes in class i write badly and quickly to keep up with the teacher, shortening words or omitting passages.  by reorganizing your notes that same evening (at most the next day, if you really don't have time) you can revise your work when the lesson is still fresh in your mind; if you wait too long, you will forget most of the things and you will find yourself staring blankly at pages of notes which, at that point, will seem more like hieroglyphics to you than anything else.

𝟱. use ai responsibly ( 🪴 )

artificial intelligence is everywhere nowadays and why not use it to our advantage? of course i'm not suggesting that you let an ai take care of all your tests and essays, it wouldn't make sense, however very often it helped me make a list of key points to develop in a research paper, or gave me excellent ideas and insights for projects. they can also be used to create flashcards, summarize and simplify articles, or create practice tests based on the material you will have to study.

𝟲. delve deeper into your “whys” ( 🌾 )

sometimes when i study i stare into space and wonder why i am studying something that seems completely irrelevant to my path. i'm sure it happens to you too, don't ignore this feeling. don't be afraid to explore themes and topics that aren't clear to you, if two statements seem contradictory ask yourself why, if you don't understand some passages, don't be afraid to ask a question. we study for ourselves, before studying to graduate, to work. there is no shame in not understanding, your intelligence lies in striving to clarify what seems obscure.

[beheamothscreamoth]

Touchstarved + Pokémon Crossover

I'm a big fan of the two games, so for the heck of it, I decided to throw the main cast of Touchstarved into the world of Pokémon! I came up with some Pokémon they might use and what their roles could be if they were in it >:D

(Shoutout to @winterwhisperz-blog for encouraging me to post this!! ^w^)

Leander

Considering his role in the TS universe and how sociable he is, I think he’d make a great Gym Leader! He was probably a member of the Elite Four but he dropped out. Leander's Bloodhounds would be the trainers that fight you before you get to him! (Despite his position, he may also just be a Little Bit Evil™, kind of like Giovanni) I can see him having a more varied team, but he seems suitable for Poison/Bug type! (or Normal type to really emphasise that he’s normal guys he’s so normal- /j /lh)

His team might look something like:

Scizor

Venusaur

Nidoqueen

Ais

Honestly?? I can see him filling a lot of roles! (It's because of the protagonist energy he gives off-) I can see him being a Gym Leader like Leander, but I love the image of him being a rival to the MC! He’d probably prefer more tougher Pokémon in a fight (though I don’t think he’d shy away from Pokémon that are harder to raise), so he might lean towards Fighting and Water type. (He’d also have a dog Pokémon nicknamed Princess,,)

Part of his team might look like:

Tentacruel

Garchomp/Gyarados

Machoke/Machamp

(Lycanrock?)

Kuras

I can see him being a Pokémon Professor or Teacher! He’d probably lean towards Fairy and Normal type :D I can see him having service Pokémon (like how Nurse Joy has her Chansey), if only because he is a doctor in the original TS universe... (I also like to think that even though his team may be comprised of service Pokémon, if they were put in a fight, they would absolutely destroy the other team 💀)

His team might look like:

Blissey

Drampa

Musharna

(Gardevoir/Gallade?)

Mhin

They’d probably be a Pokémon Researcher? I don’t think they’d have that many Pokémon on their team, to be honest,, They might have a preference towards Flying + Ghost types, but I have a hard time seeing them being super into Pokémon battles - they probably only fight when it's necessary!

Their team might look like:

Corviknight

Misdreavus

Dusknoir?

(Murkrow/Honchkrow?)

Vere

I think he’d be an admin on one of the enemy teams! (Maybe the Senobium in this universe is the enemy team...?) He’d be a very skilled trainer - his Pokémon are probably more focussed on speed and attacking-- I can see him leaning towards Fire and Dark type!

His team might look like:

Houndoom

Liepard

Salazzle

(Krookodile?)

Bonus MC Insert (Please add on your own Touchstarved MC / OCs if you're interested! What Pokémon would they have? What would they do?)

Daniella

I can see her being a Pokémon Breeder! I like the image of her going off on a journey of a Pokémon Trainer and putting her duties as a breeder temporarily on hold, but I'm not entirely sure how it would kick off-- Maybe she goes on this journey to see the world, or, if we want to tie in the original game, go look for a cure to heal a mysterious illness of one of the Pokémon she looks after? I can see her team being Pokémon consisting of Psychic + Normal types!

Her team would include:

Sigilyph

Kirlia (evolves into Gardevoir)

Kadabra (evolves into Alakazam)

(Deerling [evolves into Sawsbuck])

If you guys have any other thoughts or opinions, please feel free to add them! :D

[another-lost-mc]

When you arrive in the Devildom as part of the student exchange program, you discover their famous AI program isn't what it seems.

feathered friends | karasu x reader

3.8k words | sfw | gn!reader | canon divergence

cw: implied social isolation/loneliness; protective thoughts/behaviours; jealousy; minor blood/violence.

feathered friends (series): part one | part two | part three (nsfw)

When Karasu designed the AI program for the D.D.D., he didn’t expect the higher-ups at the Three-Legged Crow Conglomerate would name it after him. By the time he realized it wasn’t a joke, it was already too late – the KARASU AI was born, and it was his responsibility to maintain it.

He doesn’t attend RAD anymore, but Karasu regularly communicates with Diavolo and Barbatos to ensure that the D.D.D. apps and KARASU AI are designed in correspondence with the Devildom’s long-term goals.

One of Karasu’s responsibilities is to oversee the research and technological development necessary to make communication between the realms more streamlined. In a perfect world, D.D.D. users should be able to use their device and apps outside the Devildom. This was a critical piece of Diavolo’s plan for future students coming from the Celestial Realm and human world to attend RAD.

When the exchange program commences and the students are given D.D.D.s of their own, Karasu oversees their files personally. He tracks their data usage and AI requests to understand how humans and angels interact with Devildom technology. He studies which apps they use the most, and which apps or features they don’t have but might find useful.

Diavolo is most concerned with the types of questions and requests they make of the KARASU AI program. He’s equally concerned about their satisfaction with the Devildom as well as their safety. A newcomer to the Devildom may not have the courage to come forward to a demon about a concern they have, but they might ask the AI instead.

It’s Karasu’s responsibility to sift through the questions and requests the students make while using the AI program. He compiles the data for analysis later, and he forwards any concerning messages to Barbatos or Lucifer directly for follow-up.

Karasu learns quickly that certain students are less capable with technology than others.

From: Karasu@TLC.dev To: Lucifer@RAD.dev CC: Barbatos@RAD.dev

Subject: Exchange Student (Simeon – Purgatory Hall)

Based on the data collected so far, it seems that this student is having difficulty using his D.D.D. properly. Immediate action is recommended to prevent further data corruption.

Thank you.

(Despite his warning, Karasu had to replace Simeon’s D.D.D. after the angel managed to brick the device.)

Out of all the exchange students, you’re the one that interacts with the KARASU AI bot the most. Most of your questions are about human world apps and whether you can access or use them in the Devildom. Even though you can’t – and the AI relays that response to you – Karasu notes what apps you’re trying to access, and whether it’s worth developing Devildom alternatives.

(Karasu chuckles when he reads the logs and sees that you’ve asked for a Devildom version of a VPN to access human world websites - how cute! But no, that’s not possible yet.)

From: Lucifer@RAD.dev To: Karasu@TLC.dev CC: Barbatos@RAD.dev Subject: Request for equipment

Please be advised that I have received a request for a computer from the human exchange student residing in the House of Lamentation. They have been provided with one of RAD’s laptop computers (#302) to use for the duration of their stay.

Karasu is monitoring data at his desk when you start asking the AI bot about setting up your new (borrowed) laptop. He can see the two issues right away: the laptop is an older model that doesn't run very well, and you’re unfamiliar with the Devildom operating system installed on that machine.

Karasu disables the bot and takes over manually so he can type instructions and answer your questions instead. He tells himself that it’ll be less frustrating for you this way. He can imitate the bot’s speech patterns easily since they are based on his own. If anyone questions his decision, he can tell them the simple truth: this is more efficient.

With his help, you get the game you want to play installed and running – barely. But you seem genuinely happy, and you thank him with such gratitude he feels a little flustered. He assumes it’s part of your human nature to talk to a piece of technology like it’s a living being.

(He’s glad that he normally works alone – he doesn’t have to explain the bashful smile on his face to anyone.)

After that, Karasu overrides the AI bot more often so he can interact with you personally. He still tells himself it’s more efficient this way - you have such a curious nature, and he enjoys helping you. He feels like it’s his personal responsibility to make sure you’re able to use his software properly - at least, that’s the plausible explanation he tells himself to justify his unusual interest in you.

It also has nothing to do with your requests about job opportunities, or ways to acquire money to pay for things you seem to be missing.

(He starts monitoring your Akuzon search history to make sure Lucifer is aware of any necessities you might be lacking.)

It definitely has nothing to do with his concern for you, even though you’ve admitted (more than once) that you feel isolated in the Devildom without any contact with your friends or family. Part of him wonders if you interact with the AI bot so often because you’re lonely. Do you feel comfortable talking to him – it – more than the demons you live with?

He thinks about you often and decides there’s no harm letting whatever this is continue. If he feels eager anticipation for the next time you want his help – well, that’s what he’s here for, isn’t it?

Sometimes when you ask the AI bot silly questions, Karasu will give you silly answers. (You have such a nice laugh.)

“Karasu, why does Mammon gamble so much when he’s so bad at it? I think he’s being strung up again…”

KARASU AI: Well, you know what they say – go big, or go home. Unfortunately for Mammon, he goes home to Lucifer.

Karasu doesn’t realize how comfortable he’s gotten speaking to you like this, and he doesn’t realize you’re becoming suspicious of the AI bot. Sometimes the responses you receive are too intuitive, like it can read between the lines of the questions you’re asking. Sometimes it makes witty or sarcastic remarks that feel too real.

You know technology has come a long way, but you doubt even the Devildom’s AI is capable of reproducing sentient conversation the way the KARASU AI does. When you borrow the angels’ phones to compare your bot responses to the ones Luke and Simeon receive, you know there’s something strange going on.

“Karasu, you’re not really a bot, are you?”

KARASU AI: …do you want me to be?

“I would feel better knowing that someone I talk to on a regular basis is a real live demon, instead of a fake one that lives inside my phone.”

He’s caught off-guard by your confession. He’s an old demon, well-known and respected within the Devildom for his work, but he’s not very sociable. He has many acquaintances but no one he would consider a friend. Perhaps the hope of friendship is the true motivation that’s kept him interested in you this whole time?

Whatever the reason is, Karasu accesses the Contacts directory on your D.D.D. profile and adds his own personal contact information. He feels bad for deceiving you, and he sends you a message with a heartfelt apology. You seem so excited to be talking to him - the real him - that his guilt doesn’t last for very long.

You: Since your name is Karasu, won’t that confuse the bot if I’m trying to talk to you instead?

Karasu: I admit that I didn’t anticipate this situation. Perhaps I can modify the name triggers for the bot, but that will take some time to test before I can patch the AI software on your device.

You: Do you have a nickname I can call you instead?

Karasu: I don’t have many friends, so I’ve never needed one.

Karasu: That is to say, I don’t have a nickname.

Karasu: Many nicknames seem juvenile, but for you…I think I would make an exception.

Karasu: If you find it more convenient, of course.

You: Definitely, it’s all about convenience. Sure.

You: How does Kay sound to you?

Karasu: I think I like it very much.

You: :D

Karasu: :)

(He doesn’t tell you how much he treasures the name you gave him as a sign of friendship. He cherishes it and is fiercely protective of it; only you are allowed to call him that from now on.)

Karasu starts to consider you a friend when you text him about how classes are going, or the things in the Devildom that amaze you (and frighten you). Sometimes he calls you in the evenings once he’s done his work for the day, and he enjoys relaxing conversations with you while he makes himself dinner.

You convince him to play a multiplayer game with you, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that he dislikes video games. He’s grateful for your company instead, and he surprises himself that he doesn’t mind making simple concessions if it means spending more time with you.

One evening you’re playing a game together after you finished your homework. You disconnect from the game suddenly. He calls you and walks you through the troubleshooting steps when your school laptop shuts down and won’t turn back on. He knows that the machine is an older model and, based on your feedback, he makes an educated guess that it’s no longer usable. 

“I’m worried Lucifer will think I had something to do with this,” you confess to him quietly. You’ve been lucky and avoided his punishments so far, but you don’t want to make a bad impression now.

Karasu is already drafting an email on your behalf so that any concerns Lucifer has about the school’s faulty equipment will go to him instead of you. “I’ve mentioned to the RAD administration in the past that some of their technology needs to be updated. There’s no need to worry - you won't be blamed for this.”

You chuckle quietly. “I’ll miss playing games with you,” and you realize it’s a silly thing to admit, but you can’t help it. “I’ve tried to invite Levi to play games with me, but he usually ignores me. I’m not sure he likes me very much.”

Leviathan isn’t the most sociable of the seven brothers you live with, and Karasu feels disappointed on your behalf that they might not be treating you well. You’re such a nice, warm human. What problem could Leviathan possibly have with you?

“I’ll think of a better solution for you so that you’re not without a computer for long,” Karasu says, trying his best to reassure you. “And I guarantee it’ll be more dependable than the paperweight of a machine they gave you before.”

Karasu’s heart races long after your phone call finally ends. He thinks about you often, more than he probably should, and he tells himself it’s out of concern. You’re still a stranger to the Devildom and he knows you struggle to find your place within it.

He thinks about your busy schedule that’s full of classes at RAD, followed by the chores you share with your demon roommates. He thinks about how difficult it might be for someone of your status to get a decent-paying job, or to save enough money for a replacement computer of your own. 

He thinks about your problems, and he knows how he can help. The simplest solution is usually best, after all.

Two days later, he’s finishing some coding updates for the KARASU AI bot when he picks up your incoming call. He can’t help the laughter that bubbles out of him when you thank him, loudly and excitedly, over the phone.

“Kay, what did you do?!” You came home from RAD and found several large, heavy boxes from Akuzon stacked near your room. The gift receipt for all the pieces to build your new computer said it was from Your Friend.

Your happiness is contagious and he can’t stop smiling. “I’m hoping we’ll have more uninterrupted game nights together,” he teases. “I suggest you put it together and test everything to make sure none of the parts are defective.”

He frowns worriedly when you sigh, and your voice is a bit deflated, lacking the joyful enthusiasm from only a few moments ago. “I’m not great with building computers like this,” you admit. “I asked Levi for help, and he said – well, he told me he was busy,” you mumble awkwardly, and you hope your lie is convincing.

Your ignorance of technology - especially Devildom technology - irritated Levi when he noticed that someone sent you a cutting-edge, state-of-the-art computer. All you had to do was put it together, and you couldn’t even do that! He sneered and told you he wasn’t going to help you if you couldn’t figure it out on your own. When Levi stomped off towards the stairs to his room, he was still grumbling about normies and stupid humans and what a waste of space you are.

Despite your effort to hide the truth from him, Karasu can tell you’re not being completely honest. You’re not a very good liar, and if it were about something less serious, he would let it slide. Instead, he thinks about what he knows about Leviathan - the Avatar of Envy, the anti-social self-proclaimed otaku that viciously guards his interests. Karasu can imagine how the demon treated you when he realized what was in those boxes.

He knows how hard you’re trying to get closer to the demons you live with, and it seems that Leviathan purposefully stonewalls all your attempts to find common ground. It’s not the first time you’ve mentioned it, and it might not be the last unless something changes.

This is another problem he believes he can solve for you.

“Don’t worry about it tonight,” Karasu suggests, and he changes the subject to distract you. You tell him about one of the RAD classes you’ve been enjoying and some of the nice classmates you’ve met. 

After you go to bed, Karasu feels lonely without your voice in his ear. He thinks about your situation with Leviathan, and he feels indignant on your behalf. He ignores the twinges of rage that make his fingers twitch with the urge to defend you. He decides he can - should - fix this without bloodshed. It doesn’t take long to access Leviathan’s device history, and his lips twitch into a sharp smile when he finds what he’s looking for.

Karasu is suspiciously less talkative the next day, even though he still responds to your text messages. He tells you an amusing anecdote about Simeon sending Barbatos photo-spam of the inside of his pocket by accident, but otherwise he’s quieter than usual.

You try not to take it personally, but it’s difficult not to worry about his sudden change in demeanor. You glance worriedly at the boxes near your desk and wonder if he regrets getting to know you. Maybe he’s realizing later than everyone else that you’re really as useless as Levi says you are–

The sound of the doorbell echoing in the hallway scares you. The House of Lamentation doesn’t receive many visitors, and some of the demon brothers are just as curious as you when you head to the front hall.

Lucifer is the first to arrive and opens the door. “Karasu,” he says, obviously surprised, “we weren’t expecting you. I take it this isn't an official visit?” Even though Lucifer is visibly confused by his sudden appearance, he steps aside and lets in the unexpected visitor.

You’ve tried to imagine what Karasu might look like. Part of you wondered if he was just a large talking crow, but the thought seems ridiculous now. He’s shorter than the demons you live with, and his form-fitting suit compliments and accentuates his slender build. You’re captivated by his deep red pupils and dark sclera behind the glasses he wears. You assume his wings are only visible when he's in his true demonic form because you see none now.

He still looks more monstrous than the other demons you’ve met so far. Before coming to the Devildom, you might’ve found him terrifying. Instead, you’re just excited to finally meet him. You offer him a bashful grin, and he turns to you properly, offering you a bow and small but genuine smile.

He straightens and clears his throat, addressing Lucifer properly who watches your exchange with wary amusement - Karasu isn't known for making friends.

“I’ve come to help my dear friend with some technical concerns,” his eyes flickering briefly in Leviathan’s direction. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

Lucifer seems satisfied and they exchange a few more pleasantries. Eventually he and the rest of his brothers disperse.

“You didn’t have to come all this way for me,” you remind him nervously when you're alone with him. You already felt guilty before, and now he’s here because of you–

But he steps forward and places his hands on your shoulders and squeezes them gently. “I came because I wanted to come,” he admits, and his eyes gaze into yours with so much sincerity that you believe him.

You lead him to your room, and you’re thankful it’s not a complete mess when you let him inside. He looks around your room with interest, glancing at the books on your shelves and the small stack of movies you’ve been watching. He’s happy to see your room is comfortable, although the stack of Akuzon boxes take up a lot of space.

He should’ve offered to do this for you from the start.

Karasu slides off his jacket and drapes it over your bedspread, and he rolls up his shirt sleeves to his elbows. He opens the boxes carefully, inspecting each computer component for damage and explaining how the different pieces should be assembled. He takes care of putting together the complicated parts himself, but he guides you through some of the simpler steps.

He realizes that it’s so satisfying doing this with you. You’re even funnier in person, and you don’t shy away from casual touches - brushing against him when you reach for something, touching his arm when you thank him for coming. He’s not used to this kind of attention, especially since you offer him compliments and praise and kind words so freely.

There’s a warm current of emotion simmering under his skin. He recognizes what it is - attraction, desire, overwhelming need - and it blindsides him. He hasn’t felt this way for anyone in so long. How did things between you lead to this?

When your new computer is set up and working perfectly, he tries to shove aside those thoughts so he can bask in your excitement instead. He enjoys your pleasant company and he wishes he could stay with you, but he has one more task to accomplish while he's here.

“I need to have a word with Lucifer before I go,” he murmurs apologetically, a small lie but a necessary one. When your face falls, he adds quickly, “I’m not leaving just yet, but I don’t want to disturb him too late in the evening.”

You walk him to your door and point down the hall where he might find Lucifer in the library or his private study. You offer to go with him, but he insists that he’ll be fine. He wants you to stay and enjoy your gift instead. 

Karasu walks slowly down the hall, humming quietly while his shoes click lightly against the floor. He studied the layout of the House of Lamentation before he arrived and knows exactly where to go. He breezes past the library, heading towards the stairs leading to the second floor instead. He finds who he’s looking for before he gets there.

Leviathan is surprised to see him wandering around the house alone, but his expression quickly shutters into a frown. He ignores Karasu instead and tries to push past the crow demon blocking his path.

There’s a small gust of air and a metallic swish, and Leviathan walks into one of Karasu's wings, a barrier of steel-hardened black feathers that appears out of nowhere. He jumps back and hisses in pain. One of the feathers scratched his arm, and he covers it with his hand to stop blood from dripping on the floor.

“WHAT THE–” Levi begins to yell, but Karasu interrupts him before he can draw too much attention.

“Your pettiness surprises me, even though I know envy is your specialty,” he lectures him quietly, “but I would reconsider your treatment of our mutual acquaintance. You let your feelings get the better of you, and they only want to be your friend.”

Leviathan’s face crumples into an ugly sneer and looks ready to argue, but Karasu is undeterred.

What a petulant child.

Karasu leans forward, crowding into Leviathan's space, and whispers, “May I remind you, incognito mode doesn’t hide your secrets - not from me.” Leviathan inhales sharply when the threat sinks in. Karasu smiles at him, all teeth and no humor, then steps back. His feathers return to their natural texture before his wings disappear completely.

“Good evening, Leviathan,” Karasu says when he finally moves aside to let him pass. Leviathan turns around and storms back up the stairs to his room instead.

When Karasu walks back to your room, he feels invincible. He protected you and he would do it again, gladly - whether you asked him to or not. He cares for you now, perhaps more than he should. He wants to care for you even more and refuses to feel guilty about it.

It’s getting late and he has to be cautious not to overstay his welcome. He has too many overwhelming feelings to untangle when he’s alone, but now that he’s met you, he’s loathed to be parted from you for long.

He thinks it’s so sweet that you walk him to the front door when it’s time to finally leave. “I hope we can see each other again soon,” you admit, and you try not to pout. “I had fun spending time with you tonight, and I can’t thank you enough…for everything.”

Karasu tilts your chin towards him when you look away, and he smiles reassuringly so you know there’s no reason to feel embarrassed. He hopes you feel the same eager anticipation he does when he asks, “Would you like to join me for dinner this weekend?”

Your happy grin and flushed cheeks answer for you, and when he finally leaves you, it’s with the promise that you’ll see him again very soon.

read more: karasu masterlist | obey me masterlist

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

"On a Bright Day, Next Week" is now complete!

When Stede Bonnet wakes up from cryosleep alone and with no memories other than a vague feeling of unease, he's not sure who he is or how he wound up at Queen Anne Research Laboratories. When he's told that he has to help replace ED, the AI controlling the facility, he and ED are thrown straight into a mystery surrounding ED's history of bizarre behavior, Stede's missing memories, and how their pasts intersect.

This is a Portal-inspired AU, but it veers heavily away from the source material! If you like Portal, you'll find some fun easter eggs, but knowledge of those games isn't at all necessary. This fic is rated M, 54k words across 16 chapters. Expect lots of angst and hurt/comfort to start with a very soft, satisfying finish.

[serpentface]

Do you conlang? I was wondering if you had naming languages (or possibly even more developed ones) for pulling the words you use. I tried to search your blog but didn't find anything, wouldn't be surprised if the feature is just busted tho. Your worldbuilding is wonderful and I particularly enjoy the anthropological and linguistic elements.

Ok the thing is I had kind of decided I was not going to do any conlanging because I don't feel like I'm equipped to do a good job of it, like was fully like "I'm just going to do JUST enough that it doesn't fail an immediate sniff test and is more thoughtful than just keysmashing and putting in vowels". And then have kinda been conlanging anyway (though not to a very deep and serious extent. I maybe have like....an above average comprehension of how language construction works via willingness to research, but that's not saying much, also I can never remember the meanings of most linguistic terms like 'frictives' or etc off the top of my head. I'm just kinda raw dogging it with a vague conceptualization of what these things mean)

I do at least have a naming language for Wardi (and more basic rules for other established languages) but the rudimentary forms of it were devised with methods much shakier and less linguistically viable than even the most basic naming language schemes, and I only went back over it LONG after I had already made a bunch of words so there's some inconsistencies with consonant presence and usage. (This can at least be justified because it IS a language that would have a lot of loanwords and would be heavily influenced by other language groups- Burri being by far the most significant, Highland-Finnic and Yuroma-Lowlands also being large contributors)

The 'method' I used was:

-Skip basic construction elements and fully move into devising necessary name words, with at least a Vibe of what consonants are going to be common and how pronunciation works -Identify some roots out of the established words and their meanings. Establish an ongoing glossary of known roots/words. -Construct new words based in root words, or as obvious extensions/variants of established words. -Get really involved in how the literal meanings of some words might not translate properly to english, mostly use this to produce a glossary of in-universe slang. -Realize that I probably should have at least some very basic internal consistency at this point. -Google search tutorials on writing a naming language. -Reverse engineer a naming language out of established words, and ascribe all remaining inconsistencies to being loanwords or just the mysteries of life or whatever.

I do at least have some strongly established pronunciation rules and a sense of broad regional dialect/accents.

-'ai' words are almost always pronounced with a long 'aye' sound.

-There is no 'Z' or 'X' sound, a Wardi speaker pronouncing 'zebra' would go for 'tsee-brah', and would attempt 'xylophone' as 'ssye-lohp-hon'

-'V' sounds are nearly absent and occur only in loanwords, and tend to be pronounced with a 'W' sound. 'Virsum' is a Highland word (pronounced 'veer-soom') denoting ancestry, a Wardi speaker would go 'weer-sum'.

-'Ch' spellings almost always imply a soft 'chuh' sound when appearing after an E, I, or O (pelatoche= pel-ah-toh-chey), but a hard 'kh' sound after an A or U (odomache= oh-doh-mah-khe). When at the start of a word, it's usually a soft 'ch' unless followed by an 'i' sound (chin (dog) is pronounced with a hard K 'khiin', cholem (salt) is pronounced with a soft Ch 'cho-lehm')

-Western Wardin has strong Burri cultural and linguistic influence, and a distinct accent- one of the most pronounced differences is use of the ñ sound in 'nn' words. The western city of Ephennos is pronounced 'ey-fey-nyos' by most residents, the southeastern city of Erubinnos is pronounced 'eh-roo-been-nos' by most residents. Palo's surname 'Apolynnon' is pronounced 'A-puh-lee-nyon' in the Burri and western Wardi dialects (which is the 'proper' pronunciation, given that it's a Kos name), but will generally be spoken as 'Ah-poh-leen-non' in the south and east.

-R's are rolled in Highland-Finnic words. Rolling R's is common in far northern rural Wardi dialects but no others. Most urban Wardi speakers consider rolling R's sort of a hick thing, and often think it sounds stupid or at least uneducated. (Brakul's name should be pronounced with a brief rolled 'r', short 'ah' and long 'uul', but is generally being pronounced by his south-southeastern compatriots with a long unrolled 'Brah' sound).

Anyway not really a sturdy construction that will hold up to the scrutiny of someone well equipped for linguistics but not pure bullshit either.

[the-hydroxian-artblog]

I love your animatronic toy OC guys so much, they have so much personality to them and their colours are really good (especially umbra)

Thank you! The funny thing about Umbra's design was that while I was developing it about two years ago and had some colors in mind, I described in text what I already came up with to an image generator for fun (shitty unconvincing old kind, vs now where it looks like shit but in a somewhat more convincing way) and it produced something so silly that I made her design better than what I would've settled with out of spite.

More details of my process and anti-AI ranting below the cut, so the examples given won't show up on search results. Google Images is getting polluted too much with slop to begin with.

Let's begin.

In 2022 I was drafting up Umbra's design with mostly concrete details. At this time image generators were newer and much less convincing, and I was a bit less aware of just how unethical they were, so I fed one a text description of what I had drafted for her design out of curiosity. Something along the lines of, "doll of an anthropomorphic owl librarian in glasses, blazer/suit jacket, skirt, corset, high heels, sitting on a bookshelf" and probably a few more terms. Really specific, lengthy prompt.

I try to be open-minded and give new things a shot, but the results were Not Great. Ideally, I'd want to not share the AI pictures at all on-principle, but I feel like it's useful, transparent, and necessary to show them. Both as a means of not hiding anything, but also just to appreciate where the design is at in spite of it.

Outside of this particular collage of Weird Owls, no other pictures on this blog are AI-generated. AI Image Generation is harmful, and I am against its usage.

But hey, two of the generated pictures look close, right? The top left is the closest, and bottom right is second.

That's because they started out worse, and I had to actually erase chunks of them and have the generator fill in the blanks to get anything remotely close to what I wanted. Misshapen limbs, unrecognizable anatomy, fever-dream clothing details, etc. They didn't even have a corset or proper legs until I slapped the generator in the face enough times to make it produce them. I was just using it to photobash, which was such an annoying process, I just went "this is dumb" and stopped. They're literally posed like that because I kept erasing and regnerating their limbs until they looked vaguely in-character. It literally only looks passable thanks to STRANGLING it with human input.

Before I used the image generator, I already drafted her to be night-themed with yellow eyes and something like purple, dark blue, or sky-blue as her main color; the generator making one owl yellow-eyed and purple was a happy coincidence, and the only thing the generative AI "came up with" that I didn't already have in mind or included in the prompt was the light blue shirt, which I did adapt into her cyan shirt and stockings/socks as well. That was a good call. You get One Point, Mr. AI.

...Which still meant that at its absolute best, it was a largely redundant step in the creative process if its contribution was worse than what a randomized palette generator or character creator could come up with.

That's already putting the ethics of it aside, like carbon emissions, data pollution, using artists' and photographers' work without credit or permission, the incentive to plagiarize, flooding sites like deviantart with slop, Willy Wonka Shit, etc etc etc. When people say "you can use AI as a tool though", this ordeal was enough to convince me that it's more trouble than its worth, even in its most ethical usage. I feel gross for having even tried. I wish I knew what sources went into the creation of those Weird Owls. It'd be better for research if the right people could be credited.

Nothing else on this blog is AI-generated or ever will be. The art below is purely my own (2022 vs a few weeks ago)):

Actually drawing Umbra and solidifying her design was far more rewarding than having an image generator vaguely approximate my own ideas. I wanted her to look really special, so I used a black cape and pants, gold highlights and buttons, and blue undertones to make something more distinct. Also, neck floof. Very important. I wanted the head in particular to look distinct and original, going with bold black streaks to really help her look distinguished.

I also have certain inevitable Hydroisms for Fancy characters like her; most apparent in these designs for Chasey and Kaita from even longer ago, which were more of an influence than anything else. (Old art of mine from like 2021, Kaita ref looks wonky but Chasey still holds up nicely):

Most of Umbra's other design elements were already commonly used with established ocs like Kaita, like her shape language, corset, skirt, heels, etc. It was my previous work with Chasey that inspired the use of gold buttons and highlights.

Umbra is also now a bluer shade of purple partly to distance the current design from that ordeal. All things considered, I'll probably make her more indigo next time. I already wanted her to have a wide color range from the get-go (Featured below is, again, purely my art from 2022:)

I may use a different colored shirt and stockings in the future. I like to think she has many different shirts and clothes based on the different stages of the night sky, from dusk to dawn, and the painting I made in the top right there was an exploration of her range in different lighting.

All in all, it's frustrating. I'm proud of her design, but explaining all of this is annoying, because it's technically all relevant to showing how her colors were picked and how the design was made. I still technically have AI to """Thank""", in the way you thank a bad experience for encouraging you to make things better out of spite.

[uboat53]

I had a few thoughts about the recent murder (targeted killing? assassination?) of the United Health Care CEO recently. I'll start with the most immediately related which is…

THE OBVIOUS

I think that this was an immoral act and I oppose it. The taking of human life is always wrong and it should only be done as a last resort to prevent even greater harm. This killing will not change United Healthcare's policies at all, whoever replaces him will likely follow exactly the same policies.

Whenever (and if) this person is found, they will be tried for their crime and, if convicted, punished for it, and I think that all of that is entirely reasonable.

With that said, we've spoken about the morality of the person who killed Mr. Thompson, but that's not the whole story because…

THE VICTIM

Mr. Thompson himself is hardly a beacon of morality. United Healthcare is widely regarded as one of the most vicious health insurance companies in terms of denying care in order to contain expenses at great human cost. Many doctors have recently been asked to estimate how many lost person-years of life UHC is responsible for and the lowest estimate I've seen runs into the millions.

Mr. Thompson was not UHC, but he was its CEO. He may not have personally denied a single claim, but he is responsible for creating and maintaining the system that has denied millions of them. He knew what the system he oversaw did and he took no action to stop it. He knew that the incentives he put in place and the training that he approved were leading his employees to turn down thousands of necessary medical requests each month and did nothing. He knew that the AI tool whose implementation he approved and oversaw had an error rate of up to 90%, resulting in even more necessary medical requests being denied, but he did nothing.

Again, none of this justifies murder, but anyone would be justified in questioning whether some punishment was necessary and what it says about our system that it was unable to deliver any. The reason for that is…

THE CORPORATE EFFECT

Has anyone else noticed that making a crime corporate lets you get away with it? If I dump thousands of gallons of toxic chemicals into a river in order to save a few bucks, I'm probably going to go to jail for a long time and be charged a fine that might take me the rest of my life to pay off if I ever do. On the other hand, if a person working for a corporation dumps thousands of gallons of toxic chemicals into a river to save a few bucks, the odds of them going to jail are extremely low and the corporation itself will probably end up paying a fairly small fine, probably less than what they saved by dumping in the first place.

Corporate crime provides a diffusion of responsibility. The person doing the dumping is probably part of a group and each person in the group probably played some small part in the dumping. The group that did the dumping is responsible to a manager who did not personally do the dumping and may not have explicitly approved it, and that manager is responsible to an even higher manager with an even more abstract responsibility over specific actions.

Which one of those people is responsible for the crime? Well, in a direct, legal sense, none of them, but in a very real sense, all of them. In this way, corporations function a lot like organized crime families where lower level individuals perform the actual crime and insulate higher level individuals from the legal consequences thereof except that, in the corporate structure, the responsibility for the action is diffused so far that even the lower level individuals are often protected from the consequences.

THE RESULTS

Look, it's not mysterious, we know what happens in these cases. There's a ton of good research out there detailing what happens in communities that are both under-policed and over-policed, and this is a case that is both under-policed (corporate criminals not being held accountable) and over-policed (those who cross corporations being prosecuted to the full extent of the law). These kinds of situations lead to vigilante action and if that vigilante action persists for long enough, those committing it coalesce into gangs which are even more capable of vigilante action than individuals are.

If the underlying problems remain unaddressed for too long and the police focus on the gangs instead of on the crimes themselves, conflict eventually develops directly between the vigilantes (gangs) and law enforcement.

There's also a long history in this in terms of class economics as well. We have a sort of romantic view of the Progressive Era in terms of how worker's rights were achieved and, while they were achieved partly through peaceful political effort, they also came about due to a surge of violence against the capital and managerial classes. The weekend and the 40-hour work week were not just magnanimously given to workers, partially they came about by convincing those in power of the humanity of these efforts, but partially they also came about because desperate workers were burning the houses of their bosses, sometimes even killing them, and some level of worker's rights seemed a worthwhile compromise in comparison.

In other words, this state of events is lamentable, but also predictable. The eventual solution is pretty predictable as well; something is going to have to give. If the Progressive Era is anything to go off of, there is only so much cracking down that can be done, so it's likely that we will eventually see at least some shifting of power from corporations back to individuals, i.e., from capital back toward labor.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Look, what the shooter did was wrong and he can and should shoulder the consequences of that, but we can't simply take the action in isolation. What Mr. Thompson did was also wrong, and likely far more wrong than just the killing of a single individual, just not in a way that our legal system has been built to address, and when wrongdoing persists in a way that our justice system is incapable of addressing, vigilante actions are inevitable.

When people say that they are conflicted about the morality of this particular act (or, as much of the internet is doing, celebrating it), this is what they mean. Just because the shooter's actions are morally wrong doesn't mean they aren't understandable. Unfortunately, until our system adjusts to be capable of addressing morally repugnant behavior like Mr. Thompson's, it's likely that more individuals will feel the need to take justice into their own hands in the future.

[thehollowwriter]

The Official (Remastered) Bio of Finn Clearcove

Basic Info:

Class: Class 2C

Dorm: Octavinelle

Club: Gargoyle Research Club

Birthday: 20th November

Age: 17

Height: 146cm

Dominant hand: He's ambidextrous

Unique Magic: Mirror Image. He can copy the voice of anyone he directly touches and their physical form if he pushes hard enough. If he wants, he can limit it to certain characteristics. (E.g: voice or eye colour). He can also copy their unique magic. However, it often comes out "wrong" (for example, King's Roar will result in a goopy black tar instead of sand), and if it results in a physical object like Riddle's collar, the object will look nonsensical and ai generated

Preferences:

Favourite subjects: Art, biology

Hobby: Painting

Likes: Butterflies, animals, reading, music, cooking, painting

Dislikes: Large crowds, loud people, showing his teeth, loud sounds, bright lights

Favourite food: Chocolate mousse, shrimp

Additional Info:

Homeland: The Coral Sea

Species: Cookie Cutter Shark Mer

Family: His father and later on Chrysos who belongs to @distant-velleity

Nickname: Blue Angel, courtesy of Floyd (thank you @azulashengrottospiano for the name!)

Relationships: Finn is polyamorous with the Octavinelle trio

Sexuality: Finn is gay and polyamorous

Appearance:

Finn has long, fluffy forest green hair that has a curly seaweed/kelp like shape that goes to just past his is shoulders. It is often tied in a tight bun. His eyes are a bright amethyst and his teeth look like they came straight from the mouth of an angler fish, twisted and horrific.

Finn is very chubby and most people think "soft" and "squishy" while looking at him. Until the dread sets in, that is. He's quite pale as well but has recently started to tan a bit. He is very very small and most of his clothes have to be taken to be adjusted so they actually fit him.

In his true form, Finn's tail and face are forest green in colour, just as is the rest of him. The palms of his hands are seafoam green. His tail is like that of a cookie cutter shark's. There is a large patch of scarring on his left shoulder and the middle of his tail. He has long black claws that are retractable and incredibly sharp.

Finn has a band of black scales around his neck, and from just below that all the way to his navel are photophores that glow in the dark, which helps him camouflage and can even make him look like a school of fish from below.

Personality:

Finn is quiet and mostly keeps to himself, barely speaking to most people unless absolutely necessary, and is usually polite. He lives be the rule "don't bother me and I won't bother you". His "default" expression, if you will, is usually just a blank or serious face.

Finn is intelligent and quick-witted. He often weeds information out of people for Azul, taking the role of the "therapist bartender" except most people get an uncanny valley feeling if they look at him for too long. Despite his politeness something about him always feels wrong to others. They get this sense of dread that make them want to leave as soon as possible.

Finn is quite sadistic and has a deep love for the twisted and macabre. This is often reflected in his paintings, many of which are disturbing in nature. He is very happy to extend his sadistic ways to other students if he deems it necessary. Only if he deems it necessary. (What he deems as necessary can vary)

Finn is, most of the time, immensely confident in himself and who and what he is. He is quiet but he is not, by any means, shy or timid. He does have his insecurities though, mainly about his teeth since they're often viewed as ugly. He covers his mouth whenever he laughs or smiles in public.

Some "Fun" Facts:

▪︎Finn is haunted by the ghosts of the siblings he devoured in the womb in true shark mer fashion, they aren't aggressive towards him but they are tethered to him and cause him nightmares and endless stress and fear (they are the cause of the sense of dread people get around Finn)

•Finn's voice is very soft and very nice to listen to. It's like a flowing river. He's difficult to hear at times.

▪︎Finn enjoys flying and is very good at it

▪︎His family comes from the deep of the midnight zone, so he is well versed in abyssal magic and the dangerous and powerful spells that come with it

•Finn likes to garden

Fic Masterlist

Art by @clovenoko

Art by @boopshoops

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

A/N: Here's the boy! New and improved with an extra long personality section ooops

Tagging: @distant-velleity @krenenbaker @kitwasnothere @officialdaydreamer00 @jaylleoo14 @oya-oya-okay @cynthinesia @azulashengrottospiano @whspermy-name @minteasketches @the-banana-0verlord @adarkenedforest @whspermy-name @twisted-wonderland-but-gayer @ramshacklerumble @cyanide-latte @boopshoops @skrimpyskimpy @jovieinramshackle @quartztwst @amOnline @offorestsongs

@the-trinket-witch @ghostiidasponk @poisoned-pearls @natsukishinomiyaswife

[fangdokja]

"I learned to love writing the hard way: by fixing everyone else’s mess."

❤︎ Synopsis. Every writer starts somewhere—usually with a mess. This series reveals how embracing the chaos of bad drafts is the first step to creating something brilliant. Get ready to dig through the dirt and strike gold.

♡ Book. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

♡ Series. From Crap to Craft: The Writer's Journey - Part 1

♡ Word Count. 1,038

♡ Banner's Story. He’s the savior of many—but your destruction is his true mission.

♡ Storytime: From Loathing to Loving Writing.

Do you want to know a fun fact about me? I hated writing. Yes, the person who spends hours crafting intense, darkly seductive stories with complex yanderes? That same person used to despise writing.

Why? Group projects.

Picture this: I was a straight-A student surrounded by group mates who thought "collaboration" meant dumping their half-baked work on me. I’d end up doing the research, writing, editing, and basically carrying the whole project on my back. The cherry on top? Their contributions were often so horrendous I had to rewrite everything. Imagine editing sentences that felt like they’d been written in a foreign language and translated back into English by a broken AI. Editing, in those days, was far more grueling than writing. It was like polishing rocks and calling them diamonds.

This relentless cycle of frustration turned me against writing. What was once a childhood joy—scribbling poems and whimsical tales—became something I dreaded. But as ironic as it sounds, that experience became a cornerstone of who I am today. It forced me to hone my skills, learn to write under pressure, and develop an editor’s razor-sharp eye. It was tough love from God, but it worked. Writing research papers taught me rigor, structure, and discipline, which now underpin everything I create—whether it’s a yandere villain’s confession or a psychological deep dive into their madness.

So why tell you all this? Because sometimes, you have to churn out the garbage before you strike gold. It’s not just a personal truth—it’s a universal one. Let’s dig into why this mindset is essential and how you can embrace it.

♡ The Gold Starts with Crap.

Here’s the brutal truth: your favorite creators, the ones you place on pedestals, didn’t start with polished brilliance. They started with messy drafts, scrapped ideas, and work that made them cringe. And you know what? That’s okay. Because even the work you think is trash—the stuff you want to bury under ten layers of “never show anyone”—has value.

I’ve written pieces I was certain would get nothing but side-eyes, only for readers to hail them as incredible. Why? Because as creators, we’re cursed with the hyper-critical lens that magnifies flaws and downplays strengths. This isn’t just a quirk—it’s a survival tool for growth. But left unchecked, it’ll stifle you.

The antidote? Accept that writing crap is not just inevitable—it’s necessary.

♡ Why Writing Crap Matters.

It Breaks the Perfectionism Cycle

Perfectionism is like a envious lover, whispering that if you’re not flawless, you’re worthless. Don’t listen. Waiting for perfection paralyzes creativity. Writing crap is your way out. It’s messy, yes, but it’s progress. Let go of the need to be perfect on the first try.

It’s a Foundation, Not a Finish Line

Think of your first draft as raw ore. Nobody expects glittering gold straight out of the ground. Crap drafts are the bedrock of greatness—something to chisel, shape, and refine until the masterpiece emerges.

It Builds Momentum

Writing is a habit, and habits thrive on momentum. Even if your words feel like they belong in the trash, the act of writing keeps you moving. And movement is the enemy of stagnation.

♡ Practical Tips to Embrace Writing Crap.

Set Low-Stakes Goals

Aim for something manageable: 500 words a day, a single scene, or even 15 minutes of freewriting. The goal isn’t brilliance; it’s consistency. Quantity leads to quality, but only if you’re willing to show up.

Separate Writing and Editing

Editing while drafting is like trying to sculpt a masterpiece out of wet clay while the wheel is still spinning. Stop it. Write first. Get it all down—ugly, clunky, imperfect. Save the sculpting for later.

Use Timed Writing Sprints

Set a timer for 15-30 minutes and write without pausing. Don’t overthink. Don’t backtrack. Just write. This strategy forces you to bypass your inner critic and let the ideas flow.

Acknowledge the Ugly Process

Nobody’s first draft is perfect. Not yours, not mine, not your favorite author’s. The magic happens in the revision stage, but you can’t revise a blank page. Embrace the suck and move forward.

Focus on Progress, Not Perfection

Celebrate the small wins: finishing a chapter, hitting a word count, or completing a scene. Progress is progress, and it deserves to be acknowledged.

♡ Building Habits for Long-Term Success.

Write Every Day (or Close to It)

Even if it’s just a sentence. Consistency matters more than volume. Writing regularly trains your brain to show up, even when inspiration doesn’t.

Create a Ritual

Light a candle, make a cup of tea, or play a specific playlist. Establishing a ritual signals your brain that it’s time to write. Over time, this becomes a powerful trigger for creativity.

Learn to Love Rewriting

Editing is where the magic happens. Once you’ve laid down the bones, you can add flesh, polish the details, and bring your vision to life. But first, you need something to work with.

Find Your “Why”

Why do you write? To tell stories? To escape? To connect? Keep your purpose front and center. It’ll help you push through the messy drafts and stay motivated.

Surround Yourself with Support

Join writing communities, find critique partners, or follow creators who inspire you. Seeing others struggle and succeed reminds you that you’re not alone.

Sometimes, the journey to brilliance starts with a mess. Every masterpiece begins as a draft that might feel unbearable to the creator. But that’s the process—the secret sauce. You write crap. Then you refine it. And then? You strike gold.

So, stop waiting for the perfect sentence. Write the messy one. Dig through the dirt. The gold is there, waiting for you to unearth it.

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