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osaemu · 9 months

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GOJO SATORU: ONE FOR THE MONEY, TWO FOR THE SHOW

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: you and satoru, your fake boyfriend, have awards to accept and places to be. so how'd you two end up fucking in a bathroom? NSFW

contents: fem!reader. semi-public sex, p –> v, blowjob, unprotected sex, creampie, praise, you two get walked in on at the end (kinda). references hungry for more. not proofread, ignore any minor mistakes. 3.5K words.

“you two are so cute together,” the interviewer sighs, looking at you and satoru in turn. “please, tell us more about your relationship!”

satoru laughs, resting his hand on your back and pulling you into his side. you put on a smile and instinctually put a hand on his chest, pretending not to notice the way he stiffens up at the contact. “where do i even begin?” satoru asks dryly, turning and looking down at you affectionately, and he’s almost a good enough actor for you to believe there’s any real emotion behind those cold blue eyes.

two weeks ago, satoru’s media team came to you with a request for you two to start dating as a way of gaining more attention from your fans. naturally, you declined—it’s not like you’d gain anything from the deal but the burden of being paraded around on the arm of the man you hated—satoru gojo, the cocky son of some famous actor in the 90’s. but after multiple increases in the amount of money satoru’s team was willing to throw at you, you finally agreed under the condition that this arrangement would end the second you wanted it to.

“i’m sure you’ve seen our latest movie on netflix,” satoru starts, looking back up at the interviewer, whose eyes have practically turned into hearts. “the one with the serial killer, yeah? well, it started from there and just grew into more.”

“i guess you could say the attraction on the screen wasn’t all acting,” you add with a knowing smile. good thing you were a decent enough actor to pretend as if you weren’t just lying through your teeth, otherwise the millions of dollars in your bank account would all be gone.

the interviewer laughs and turns to the camera, saying something about how the chemistry between you and satoru was what really made the movie a hit—in fact, it might even be the reason you’re both getting nominated for best actor and actress.

“well, if you’d excuse us, i think we should get back to the party,” satoru jumps in, nodding his head at the interviewer in thanks. he removes his hand from your back as you follow him to the main area, weaving through crowds of fans and interviewers on his way there. you walk at his side, heels clacking against the freshly polished floor. satoru dips his head and whispers, “hold my hand.”

you scrunch up your nose and shake your head. “no thanks, it’s not like anyone’s watching right now. it’s way too crowded.”

“just do it,” satoru mutters, grabbing your hand anyways. when you start to pull away, he fixes you with a stern look and adds, “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t.”

“ugh, fine.”

two hours pass, filled with other actors’ remarks on how good you and satoru make as a couple. suguru geto, one of satoru’s close friends who had played a cult leader in a recent documentary even said that you might be the girl who could fix satoru. yeah, right.

“so, when do awards start?” you ask satoru, swirling your drink and relishing the sound of the ice clacking against the side of the glass. he shrugs and takes a swig from his own cup, which looks suspiciously like apple cider disguised as champagne. “really? you’re nominated for like, four awards, and you don’t even know when you’re getting them?”

satoru laughs carelessly and looks you up and down, eyes lingering on the short cut of your dress. “at this point, i’ve got so many awards that it doesn’t even matter anymore. and by the way, you look really good in that dress. oh, wait, didn’t i buy it for you?”

“you’re not smooth.”

“then why am i nominated for best actor, huh?”

“because the system’s absolute shit, obviously. otherwise toji would win every time.”

satoru groans and drinks the last couple sips of his drink, rolling his eyes. “don’t even mention that piece of shit.” you shrug in response, hiding your smile behind your glass. a couple years back, satoru had lost a role to toji and to his despair, the movie did really well, despite what he’d promised to the producers who had turned him down. and it looks like he’s still bitter over that, and all of a sudden, the perfect plan to piss satoru off appears in your head.

“look, it’s toji right there!” you gasp, setting down your drink and hopping off your seat, walking over to toji while ignoring satoru’s warnings. “oh, hi, i’m a big fan,” you say to the tall, well-built man, smiling bashfully. toji turns and looks down at you, raising an eyebrow and smiling.

“hey, pretty, you’re the girl in that movie with the serial killer, yeah?” he asks, crossing his arms. you nod and internally marvel at how tall he is—especially compared to satoru, who, by any standards, is pretty damn tall. toji looks you up and down, taking his sweet time drinking in the way your dress hugs your figure. “that scene in the alley was really fuckin’ good,” toji adds conversationally. “you’re definitely winnin’ best actress for that.”

anyone who’s watched the movie knows that the scene he’s referring to is the one where you get fucked by satoru against a dark alley wall—and you’ve seen enough edits of the scene to know exactly why it’s getting all the hype.

“aw, thanks,” you say coyly, resting a hand on your hip and tilting your head. “y’know, i’ve always wanted to star in a movie with you,” you continue, hearing satoru come up behind you in the background. you ignore the sickeningly obvious way he clears his throat and flutter your eyelashes at toji, who’s eying you with interest.

“i’d like that. i can probably pull some strings,” toji replies with a smirk. his dark eyes flicker from you to satoru and his smile turns almost patronizing. “and who’s this?”

“her boyfriend. and i really hate to interrupt this friendly chat, but she’s not up for grabs,” satoru snaps, wrapping an arm around your waist and dragging you back to your spot at the bar. you shoot satoru an indignant glare, but receive no reply besides his tightening jaw. toji laughs and waves you off, mouthing “call me” at you when you turn back apologetically.

satoru drags you by the hand to one of the bathrooms, shoving open the door with the side of his arm and pulling you inside. there’s a long, shiny counter, which you become very familiar with once your fake boyfriend hoists you up and sits you on it. “the fuck was that?” satoru hisses, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

“what, we were just talki—”

“i don’t like the way he was looking at you,” satoru interrupts, crossing his arms tensely. he fixes you with a cold stare and you fidget uncomfortably with the hem of your dress, which you now realize is rather short.

“okay, and?” you reply irritably, starting to get annoyed by the way satoru keeps patronizing you. “it’s not like we’re even dating, gojo,” you snap, emphasizing the use of his last name.

“yeah? well, i don’t need my ‘girlfriend’ slutting herself out to the guy everyone knows i hate,” satoru fires back, taking a step forward. his palms rest on the counter on either side of your exposed legs, and you suddenly notice how red satoru’s face is. the flush in his cheeks wasn’t as noticeable underneath the bar’s dim lights, but here, it’s rather obvious.

“are you jealous?” you ask incredulously, unable to suppress the cheeky smile that finds itself on your face. satoru’s jaw slackens and his eyes widen, and that’s enough of a sign for you to confirm it—satoru gojo, your fake boyfriend, is jealous. he doesn’t reply immediately, so you laugh, throwing back your head and giggling at the way satoru’s petty rivalry seems to be only one of the reasons he was so eager to get you away from toji. “aw, that’s so cute, but we aren’t even dating, sweetheart,” you coo, reaching out and caressing the side of satoru’s face.

he instantly swats your hand away, rolling his eyes at your laughter. “well, we still have to act like it, you idiot,” he mutters, leaning over you and eying the low neckline of your dress. you instinctively cross your arms and glare at him, and satoru only cocks an eyebrow in return. “so, if we were actually dating, do y’know what i’d be doing right now?”

“what?” you decide to humor him.

satoru’s demeanor completely changes at your question, going from pissed and flushed red to almost playful.

“this.”

and just like that, satoru slips his slender fingers underneath the bottom of your dress and pulls it up, exposing your black, lacy panties.

“gojo, what the—”

“shh, it’s all for the show,” he whispers teasingly, brushing one finger against the warm skin of your thigh. you involuntarily shiver from his touch, and against all rational impulse, find yourself wanting more.

in the acting community, satoru was well-known for being a stuck-up brat, and when you two had first announced your relationship, plenty of actors doubted it. after all, how could you, the classy it-girl of the movie industry, date an asshole like satoru? but even you were surprised at how easily people started to believe it when you two interacted in front of them. you’ve been told that you two had a rather unexpected burst of chemistry together, and that your relationship might actually make it.

what a shame.

satoru hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties and tugs them down, raising an eyebrow when you don’t protest. he maintains eye contact with you as he slides your panties down your thighs, exposing your embarrassingly-wet cunt. satoru looks almost as surprised as you do at how soaked you are, even as he runs two fingers over your slit before sliding them in. you hate how good it feels—it’s been a while since you got a chance to sleep with another man, especially since you’ve been stuck with satoru for the past two weeks.

“shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” satoru murmurs, scoffing in mild disbelief as he meets your eyes and smiles. he curls his fingers upwards, causing your thighs to reflexively close before satoru reopens them. “so, wanna explain, sweetheart?” he tsks, tapping your thigh with his other hand.

you make a face and look away, cheeks heating up the longer satoru waits for a response. “it’s probably from toji,” you snap back after a moment. satoru laughs sarcastically, shaking his head almost condescendingly and pulling out his fingers.

“nice try, hon,” he says sweetly, lifting his fingers to his mouth and licking off your slick in one smooth motion. satoru exhales heavily and swallows, taking his time in doing so. “want me to go grab toji to join us?” satoru asks, forcing a smile on his lips. “i’m sure he’d love to watch you beg—”

“shut it, gojo,” you interrupt, swatting away his hand, which somehow found its way back in between your thighs. “we have an award show to get to, there’s not enough time for this bullshi—”

that was a mistake. satoru instantly lifts you off the counter and, ignoring the rather wide range of curse words you throw at him, sets you on the ground and starts unzipping his pants. “shh, we got all the time in the world. they can’t give an award to someone who isn’t there, right?” satoru cooes, threading one of his hands through your hair and pulling you closer to him. his other hand finishes unzipping his pants, freeing his already-hard dick.

you look up at satoru, forcing yourself to act unimpressed—even though you know damn well he can see through your half-hearted attempt at hiding your real feelings. “s’ that all?” you ask, hating yourself for the crack in your voice when satoru laughs at you.

“ah, i think it’ll be more than enough for your pretty face to handle. now c’mon, open nice n’ wide for me,” satoru instructs you, reaching down and tilting up your chin as he guides his dick into your mouth. against all rational impulse, you let him, all while glaring daggers at him from below.

you run your tongue over his flushed red tip, and satoru sucks in a harsh breath, chest tensing as you continue kitten-licking him. his hand moves from your chin to the top of your head, and he pushes your mouth farther onto his dick, jaw tightening the more your tongue laps at him.

sure, maybe you shouldn’t be sucking off your fake boyfriend in a bathroom where anyone could walk in at any time, but it’s the first time you’ve felt this way in too long, and you weren’t ready to let this feeling go just yet. so you humor satoru and moan, smiling when you feel the way his whole body loosen up at the soft vibration. “f-fuck, didn’t think you’d actually know how to give a man a good time,” satoru mutters through gritted teeth.

“really?” you ask, pulling away from his dick for a moment to catch a breath. “we fucked for that movie, though, and you seemed pretty damn satisfied then, didn’t you?” you say in-between heaving breaths. satoru scoffs and shakes his head, pushing your mouth back onto his dick.

“yeah, but that was for a movie. this isn’t,” he clarifies, eyes fixed on the mix of spit and pre-cum dribbling down your chin as you continue sucking him off. “fuck, why are you good at this?” he hisses, almost incredulously—it’s as if he was hoping you wouldn’t be this good for him for some reason, but now’s not the time to reason through it or wonder what’s going on in his mind.

satoru shudders around you, and you feel the hair threaded through your hair tighten. it’s not enough to be painful, but his grip still makes you whine from the increased pressure. his breathing becomes more shallow as you run your tongue over his length, and his foot starts to bounce on the floor as he gets closer to cumming down your throat. “shit, baby, m’ close,” satoru confirms a moment later, tilting his chin back and glaring at the ceiling.

“fuckin’ hell, i—” he cuts himself off with a loud, lengthy groan, pushing your head even farther on his dick and tensing as the full force of satoru’s orgasm hits him. he lets loose a flurry of curse words as he cums in your mouth, filling you up to the point where it starts dripping down the side of your face. it’s hot and salty, two sensations that you normally wouldn’t put together, but in this moment it’s all you can think about as you slide one hand downwards towards your throbbing pussy.

still reeling from his surprisingly quick orgasm, satoru leans back onto the counter and pants for air. as for you, you’re starting to want some of his pleasure for yourself—so you slip two fingers inside your cunt and pulse them back and forth, needy moans slipping out of your lips at every thrust. “gojo,” you call, looking up at him and licking his cum off your lips. the sight of you kneeling in front of him, cum dripping down your lips and fingers knuckle-deep in your cunt is enough for satoru to cum again, but he forces himself to maintain some level of control.

“jus’ call me satoru,” he murmurs, reaching down and tugging you up to your feet. it’s hard to stand while your legs are trembling, but thankfully, satoru does most of the work for you by positioning you against the wall, back facing him as he aligns his still-hard dick in front of your dripping pussy. “say it,” satoru mutters in your ear, resting one hand on your waist and the other on the wall just above your shoulder. “say my name f’me, sweetheart.”

“s-satoru,” you breathe, and a moment later, your fake boyfriend—who doesn’t feel so fake anymore—shoves himself inside of your welcoming cunt. you’re already wet enough to the point where he doesn’t really need to prep you at all, but you’re still just tight enough so that every thrust feels like he’s breaking you down in the best way possible.

“y’feel so good,” satoru groans, resting his chin on your shoulder and snapping his hips back and forth, setting a steady yet harsh pace. you stutter out satoru’s name again and again as your vision goes blurry, with your only thoughts revolving around the dick shoved up inside you and the man praising you in your ear.

satoru curses when he feels your walls clench around him, breaths growing shallower with every thrust. “arch your back for me, princess,” he mutters, eyes fluttering rapidly as he squeezes your waist. “yeah, jus’ like that,” satoru praises, breath brushing against the side of your face as he continues thrusting into you. “how’re you feeling, pretty? s’ this all right with you?”

you nod shakily in response, swollen lips hanging wide open as you gasp for air. satoru clicks his tongue and slows his pace, dipping his chin and studying your face. “gonna need you to use your words, angel.”

“m' good, i wanna cum,” you mumble, a loud moan slipping through your lips when satoru laughs and resumes fucking you a millisecond after you answer.

“i’m gonna fill you up, baby, i promise,” satoru whispers, and his words are barely audible over the lewd, sticky sounds coming from everywhere. all your senses are directed at satoru—the man you really shouldn’t be fucking right now, but all your inhibitions fade away as you feel your stomach start to tighten as you approach your orgasm.

“fuck, satoru, m’ close,” you whimper, arching your back even more and clenching your teeth shut. satoru sucks in a sharp breath as he confirms that he’s also about to cum, and his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets. “don’t stop, please, i—”

from there on, your words mix themselves together, with the only understandable word being satoru’s name. your fake boyfriend spills into you first, cum leaking from his tip and mixing with yours as you both chase your releases. and it hits you hard—if it wasn’t for satoru, you would’ve crumbled to the ground from the sheer force of your orgasm. all you can see is white as satoru finishes emptying his load inside of you, and the sticky, viscous liquid trails down the warm skin of your thighs as it overflows from your abused hole.

“shit,” satoru mutters, stumbling backwards and eyeing his now-soiled clothes. “this was a couple thousand dollars, damn it.”

you exhale a breathy laugh and turn around, leaning against the wall and meeting his half-lidded eyes. “you kidding? my dress was way more than that, and there’s no way i can wear that out now.”

satoru grins, running a hand through his ruffled hair and walking back towards you, touching your waist and sliding a finger over your dripping cunt. “you were so good f’me, baby. what were we arguing about again?”

“i have no idea,” you mumble, watching satoru lick his finger clean. he’s shameless—even as clarity returns to both of your minds, he still insists on dragging the moment on. not that you mind—that was the best sex you’d had in a while, even if it was too fast and in a bathroom.

“we should get back to the ceremony,” you say distractedly, pulling down your dress and frowning at the new wrinkles. “can i wear your suitjacket? i don’t want people to see this.”

satoru sticks out his bottom lip and pouts, looking you up and down. “but i like it. you look like you just got fucked by a really hot guy. oh, wait, that’s me!”

“you’re an asshole.”

before satoru can reply, the bathroom door opens, and you both jump out of your skins. thankfully, satoru had time to pull his pants on, otherwise it would’ve been significantly more embarrassing. suguru pokes his head in the bathroom and rolls his eyes when he sees you and satoru, and an exasperated sigh slips out of his lips when he sees your fucked-out states.

“are you two seriously fucking during the awards?” suguru snaps, amber eyes glittering with dry amusement. you look away bashfully, tugging down your dress even farther out of embarrassment. satoru shrugs nonchalantly and walks over to suguru, offering his hand in search of a fistbump.

suguru eyes him dubiously and crosses his arms. “did you wash your hands?”

“heh, no, not yet.”

ignoring satoru’s smug grin, suguru swats his arm away with the back of his hand, disgust evident all over his face. “gross, fuck off.” he turns to you and arches an eyebrow, looking you up and down disapprovingly. “you two should clean up before coming outside, otherwise they’ll probably take away your awards,” suguru adds, wrinkling his nose. “i’ll tell them you’re on your way.”

“okay, thanks,” you mutter, face warmer than ever. suguru nods in response and leaves, and when you and satoru finally return to the awards ceremony, there’s plenty of whispers about you two, and most of them aren’t very family-friendly.

well, at the very least, nobody’s gonna doubt that you two were a couple now!

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screampied · 7 months

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POKERFACE! — ☆ GOJO SATORU.

➤ popstar!gojo masterlist

headline. gojo gets nominated for his fifth grammy. you being his plus one, he takes you—yet right before he’s prompted to go on stage, instead of getting an award though, he gets a…boner.

wc. 4.9k

warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo, semi-public, degradation, praise, hair pulling, oral, unprotected sex, overstim, implied multiple orgasms, spit, creampie, fingering.

an. stream 'it guy' on all platforms for a cheap price of $69.69!

“and the award for best solo pop artist goes to...” there’s a long abrupt pause as the female emcee gently peels open the red-encased envelope. the audience grew quiet. you could hear a pen drop at the sudden anticipation for who would win. “satoru gojo—toru!”

gojo lets off a dramatic gasp. the cameras pan towards him and he tugs on his tie. everyone starts to clap inside the filled up arena before he turns towards you. holding out his hand for you to take, he mutters out a, “oh please. i’m not going up there alone, c’mon girl.”

you didn’t expect for him to drag you along too, the press were already speculating things about you two—yet you still placed your hand in his, feeling the warmth of his palm as he flashed you his cheesy popstar signature grin before ushering up towards the stage with him. bright lights throughout the scenery nearly blinded you as the both of you walked. amid the background played one of gojo’s most recent blown-up pop songs that topped the charts for seven consecutive weeks straight.

“heh. wow. uh. this is actually crazy,” gojo starts off, taking the small awkward, cupping it in his hand before leaning into the mic. “fifth award of the night. for once, i’m speechless,” and then he pauses to snicker. “….that’s a joke. you guys are supposed to laugh...”

the crowd goes into sudden forced laughter and you sigh, meeting eye contact with various a-list celebrities. you tug on your dress before feeling gojo bring you close to him, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“eh. but anyway, i just wanna start by thanking her,” and there’s sudden confusion. you glance at gojo before he grins straight at the audience, dimples poking near the corners of his mouth. “yeah. her pussy. it’s gotten me this far, and most celebs thank their fans or parents, but why not thank the most important thing?”

that….was hours later.

everyone was buzzing about how gojo ended up getting canceled for his famous, ‘thankful for my assistant’s pussy! speech.’

it made various article headlines—yet as of now, hours before that scene happened, you were currently in his dressing room with gojo for reasons you don’t even remember why.

“this is fucked,” he whines, pacing back and forth. you sat in one of his chairs. watching the pop star have his sixth outburst of the night, here he is complaining why he can’t go on stage. this was a regular thing, and by now you started to become used to it. “…i’m supposed to be on in five but i— i can’t do that.”

“any reason why?” you muttered, tracing a nail over your thighs, brushing against the fabric that ran against your skirt. “is it your stage freight again, ‘toru?”

“pft. that’s not funny,” he glares. “and no, it’s something more serious.” he trods his feet towards you, a few white strands racing down the sides of his eyes — it’s a cute unintentional look that makes you smile at him, seeing him up close. in this cute panicky state, gojo’s bright blue eyes remained on yours before his lip quivered. “it’s embarrassing.”

right before you were gonna speak, you glanced down at your phone, the text from one of gojo’s managers signaling how he should be preparing to be walk on stage in a few more minutes.

“uh huh,” you nodded, eyes fully darted away at your phone and not him. he frowns, glancing down himself before bringing two hands towards your shoulders for you to fully look at him.

the popstar had a long designer suit on, eye-catching in the least with various rhinestones pressed against specific spots. you picked out his outfits, a thing he doesn’t mind you doing.

“look at meee…it’s serious,” he pants, and you stare into his eyes, and it takes you a moment before you finally realize. “is this…what you call a uh.. wardrobe malfunction?”

“oh,” you mumble, not realizing how quickly your pupils averted toward his bulge. you prayed gojo didn’t notice, mainly due to how embarrassing not to mention unprofessional that’d be…staring between your clients’ legs.

“oh….” you repeated, watching gojo’s face flush entirely. a smile tugs against your lips before you furrow your brows, his hands still gripped onto your shoulders before you query, “satoru, do you have a boner?”

“ . . . ”

you giggle at his silence, and he only gets more abashed and flushed. your eyes continue to linger on the pop star. he removes his hands away from your shoulders as you stand up to face him. “is that why you can’t go on stage? because you’re hard?”

“don’t…say it like that,” he grumbles, a cute pout curling against his lips. you watch as he digs his hands into the holes of his pockets, having a staring contest with the marble ground before clearing his throat. “and yeah. it’s your fault so you need to help me uh.. you know.”

“how’s it my fault?” you play along, tilting your head.

“look at your outfit,” he whines, and he says that purposely just to take a second to check you out, which he does.

gojo’s eyes roam towards your body, the pretty long dress you wore — the color matched gojo’s outfit, it wasn’t anything too revealing but it was enough to make gojo suck his teeth. the structure of it made your curves, the physique of you entirely show off, and it made him bite his lip in such want.

“ever since you came in here, i felt all hot and um.. hard. just wanted an excuse to rip your dress off instead of attending this stupid awards ceremony.”

“well,” you whisper, bringing two fingers towards his tie, giving it a kittenish pull. gojo looks down at you, and he’s so flustered you could visibly see. the way the tips of his ears perked, he was panting a bit from feeling so tense. “what are you waiting for then?”

“you’re a really bad assistant,” he murmurs, his hands starting to trail up your waist, quickly unraveling the ribbon look that went against your back. “and a really fuckin’ bad influence.”

he snickers at the concluding part of his words before you feel the popstar’s warm lips press against yours.

you kiss back, and a finger of his lifts your chin upward. he tasted sweet, honeyed even.

gojo’s hands gingerly meander all over every inch of your body, he presses into you. so close to where you feel his bulge prod and prod. he moans into your mouth, strands of his hair tickling against your forehead. you run your tongue over his, tasting the sweet tang of what appears to be wine.

he was so needy, you could tell practically from his breathing patterns. a small grunt leaves his mouth once he leads you towards the sofa. gojo’s hands roamed all over your body, his touch made you flutter in response.

gojo strokes a tress of your hair before a smile tugs against the corners of your mouth. you ran a hand down to give his slacks a playful pull, his boxers were just about hanging out.

he moans into your mouth, and it’s shaky. your touch made both tips of his ears grow to a feverish hot. as your nose brushed against his, he then suddenly pulled away — gasping for air before his lip trembles.

“f-fuck, i can’t wait anymore. i need to feel your mouth,” he pants, bringing a hand to his face to cover his embarrassed state. the pop star was so impatient, that his body language showed entirely. he was the embodiment of the saying, ‘is it hot in here or is it just me?’

you giving him that cute doe-eyed expression only made things ten times worse — the bulge forever growing and throbbing achingly in his pants made his bite down on his lip.

“don’t be so loud,” you tease, and he’s still recollecting short breaths as he watches you make your way down on your knees.

gojo’s eyes linger down toward you, and he is already envisioning your mouth. just sinking straight down on his length, drool running down your chin — he couldn’t lie to himself.. ever since you started working with him, he’s had quite the imagination.

the thought of his pretty little assistant with her mouth all full, he’s gone down on you at least twice, but the image of you returning the favor made his mouth water.

“princess, i don’t wanna…rush you or anything, but make it quick, yeah? i do have a g-grammy to win after all,”

he swallows, watching you slowly start to unzip the fly of his pants. your stare did things to him that he simply couldn’t formulate into words. gojo brings a hand on top of your head, stroking a few strands of your hair before breathing. “if i’m late, ‘m gonna blame it on you.”

“you’ve gotta be the most unprofessional person i’ve ever worked with,” you roll your eyes with a sass.

a cold sweat runs down gojo’s neck once he watches you tug his black slacks down, leaning in to kiss the white print of his boxers.

once your eyes met with his bulge, you giggle, gradually lolling out your tongue to lick the hardness that was tucked underneath the fabric.

“f-fuckkk,” he breathes, keeping his eyes on you for the entire duration. he was so pent up, gojo’s boner made you lick your lips, purely from the intact sight.

as you traced your tongue all over his bulge, tasting the blandness of the fabric—you part your lips, slowly starting to peel his boxers off with your teeth. “dirty girl. you’ve been thinkin’ about this too, huh?”

you shake your head and he lets off a pouty frown. “don’t lie.”

a smile spreads amongst your lips again, and once his boxers were finally peeled off with the help of your teeth. you meet eye contact with gojo’s lengthy cock. just a quick second glance and your tongue was already salivating from pure zeal.

gojo was long, of course, he was well-trimmed.

yet, he had a few specks of white hair scattered near his base — it was sexy. your eyes stared at his body, the way his undershirt from his tuxedo was slightly lifted.

you could see his abs clenching, his happy trail that ran down…

“l-look what you did to me” he huffs, and his tone sounded entirely whiny. he had somewhat of an upward curve. you lean in to give the soft plump tip of his a chaste kiss.

a few remnants of pre-cum smother against your spit-glossed lips. gojo’s jaw tightens, watching you roll out your tongue unsteadily, swiping it against his frenulum. “just…just like that.”

a sharp breath gets caught in his throat, you looked so pretty like this — slowly lapping your tongue against his smooth cockhead.

his pre-cum barely had a taste to it. despite that, you’d still describe it as purely sweet. lashes of yours fluttered as you continued to taste him before starting to leisurely sink your mouth lower and lower.

“…damn,” he grunts, feeling his own eyes start to flutter. your mouth was so warm, it made gojo tighten the grip he had on your hair just a bit more. he tickled against your scalp with a ring that was thrown on his finger.

the pop star quickly started to grow obsessed with that tongue of yours, the way you playfully swirled it around the inner part of his tip—you knew the exact spots to reach. he shivers, feeling both temples of his cheeks burn with such intensity.

“keep lookin’ at me,” he murmurs sheepishly, raising a thumb against the side of your face to stroke your cheek lovingly. “stare at me while you’re gettin’ a good m-meal, yeah.”

your eyes flicker towards gojo, and he says that yet could barely hold eye contact. your gaze made him so flustered that he looks away. you simper, further inches going down your right throat.

he felt you roll your lips around your teeth, strands of spit already starting to seep near the corners of your mouth. gojo’s just groaning and whining in the distance—you were so good with your technique, it had him at a loss of words.

“spit on it,” he suddenly says, pulling your head up to look at him again. “i— i wanna make you a messy assistant for me. can you do that?”

you nod, skimming your tongue around his tip before breaking away, gathering a reasonable wad before spitting on his shaft, going back towards it to lap it up with such filthy ease.

“nasty girl,” he starts to pant, his right thigh bounces before within moments later…you go back to your original place. gojo’s got a bit of thickness to him, so you gag about two times before he’s fully reached down your throat. he whines, feeling his eager tip prod against your uvula — and that’s when you start to bobble your head. “with a throat like this, you’d be such a good fuckin’ singer, y’know.”

gojo starts mumbling seductive words at you left and right whilst your mouth’s being occupied. it starts to make you throb from underneath…

so much so that you can’t help but reach between your thighs, past your fishnets, and touch yourself.

“…this could be a good vocal training reflex actually,” he adds, and your lips remain enclosed over your teeth. he finds it hot especially how you don’t even use your hands, just your mouth—you had him swallowing imaginary lumps in his throat.

while you’re still abiding inches up and down your throat, his abdomen curls. he lifts a part of his shirt that’s tucked underneath his tux just so you can get a brief view. his biceps were forevermore swollen. you moaned, feeling him keep such a gripping hold on the crown of your head.

“s-shit,” he cursed, starting to chase his breath as if it was some kind of race. he was in love with how sloppy you were.

strings, an entire glistening cobweb of spit slithered down the corners of your mouth—all down your chin. “how’s it taste? ‘s good for you?”

again, your response was a nod, and for a concise moment you sink yourself all the way down.

breathing through your nose, gojo grunts, stroking underneath your chin that was smeared with nothing but your saliva before he pulls you back up again.

“goddamn,” he throws his head back, and he’s starting to stutter. each time your tongue swiped across his sensitive tip, near the entrance of his frenulum, he whined. he leers before that’s when you feel him starting to thrust right into your mouth. he couldn’t help himself. “pretty mouth was just askin’ to get fucked a l-little.”

your jaw opened a bit as you happily took him into your mouth, your eyelids were half-lidded and you stared right up at gojo.

he returns the stare, flashing you a cute abashed grin, uttering a, “h-hey princess.”

your nails dug into the thin layers of his pulled-down pants, feeling him thwack and thwack against the very back of your throat. gojo’s hips were so erratic, thoroughly sloppy that you just craved for more.

“keep suckin’ me l-like that, ‘n i’m gonna make such a mess down that nasty throat of yours.” he whimpered, feeling the way his abs tightened. all from a few kitten licks of your tongue running against him, taking him fully with that most intense eye contact imaginable.

he shifts his feet a bit, and that’s when his phone starts to buzz. gojo grunts, reaching into his pocket before taking out his phone.

with stubby fingers, he uses his same passcode of ‘sexymansexyspraycan69’ and his eyes widen, murmuring out, “aw man,” you briefly look up at him — confused as to what happened before he scrolls, still having another hand gripped on your head. “my nudes got leaked again?”

…again?

with your mouth full, you kept up a pace, and whilst keeping his attention focused towards the bright blue-lit screen, he makes you suck him off just a bit harder. with a groan, he lets off a snicker. “oh well. at least i look good. i wonder if sugupoo saw..”

he was so unserious, probably the most unserious man you’ve ever met — let alone had to work with for a living.

gojo notices your cold stare and he nervously chuckles, “what? i didn’t say anything,” and then he fakes a moan, moving your head back and forth, an obnoxious grunt. “sorry…i mean uh. fuckkkk. right there, ‘m gonna cum.”

you give the pop star a deadpan before he meekly smiles at you, yet that’s when he moans for real once your tongue cursorily brushes against the scar tissue that resided near the underside of his tip.

“f-fuck. ‘m sensitive there,” he heavily pants, and the nerves throughout his body. his cock that was shoved deep down your throat, you felt your breaths leave through your nose. gojo’s head goes back before he groans, his orgasm feeling like a wave. an abrupt riptide.

once he came, it was so much — it trickled right into your mouth, thick velvety strings of ropes that coated all over your tongue. to halt your gagging, you squeezed your left thumb into a fist, still holding onto his thighs.

gojo’s lip quavered, and his face flushed. with swollen, varicose veins that briefly popped out displaying on his body, he sighs.

“s-so much to give to you, princess,” he slurs, completely out of breath. he was taken aback, watching your cheeks become cutely hollow. gojo’s dick remained in your mouth before he tapped your left temple, whining out a, “say ah. i wanna see.”

immensely, you loll out your tongue, showing him the paint of his cum that stuck in your tongue, how it sprayed all inside.

he groans. gojo rubs his sensitive achey tip near the flatness of your tongue, it turns into short slaps on your tongue and you moan.

“mmh. i read somewhere that if you swallow cum it strengthens your overall vocal performance,” he cheeses, and a droplet of sweat races down the side of his forehead. you sat on your knees, already taking his warm cum down your throat.

gojo was obviously joking…or he wasn’t. you could never tell with this guy.

as he’s calming himself down, catching his breath, the top part of his teeth gnaws down on his lip — he’s too eager because within seconds, he’s got you pinned down on the spare sofa.

“i- i need to be inside you again…” he whispers in a needy tone, and you’re already laid flat on your back. he didn’t even have the decency to take your dress off.

with a single hand, he pulled it up, taking a glimpse at your laced panties. he runs a finger against the thin strap of it, making you shudder before sprawling your legs open.

“you’re supposed to be on stage,” you giggle, watching his lips curl into a pout. he’s so handsy, gojo starts to peel your panties off slowly, licking his lips before a pant exits his mouth. “you’re not gonna hear the end of it from nanami.”

“don’t care,” he whines, grabbing ahold of his length. gojo swallows, such a hungry gaze was presented at you—it made you start to pulse a bit between your thighs.

“couldn’t go onstage like this,” and his voice briefly cracks, it’s cute. gojo brings his fat swollen tip towards your slick entrances and grows quiet once your cunt hums out a squelch. “they can wait. i c-cant.”

the pop star’s eyebrows come together, and once he starts to gradually go inside you—you moan, feeling the immediate sensation of him stretching you out.

“of course y-you can’t,” you roll your eyes teasingly, wrapping your arms around his collar. gojo stares at you and for a split second, his gaze seems romantic.

full of nothing but lust.

he looked like he was about to say something, but he turned away, disregarding it. it was cute, you pulled him in for a kiss and he only moaned right into your mouth.

his fingers traced all over your jaw as your tongue ran against his. his breath was heavy against yours, and the feeling of his body pressed on you made you whine. gojo’s thick cock continued to make its way inside, you were a bit drenched earlier, soaked practically.

gojo couldn’t pinpoint his feelings towards you.

he didn’t know what this thing was. he adored you, he’s always rambled to you about how you were his favorite assistant, whilst being his only assistant ever.

you wanted to ask him if this thing was just a fling or something more.

but…you were far too shy to ask, you figured he was just having fun. which you didn’t mind entirely, yet—you couldn’t help but be curious.

as your lips parted, you felt your legs start to wrap and lock securely around his waist. strands of gojo’s hair pokes against your forehead, and he feels a strong wave of tingles race down his back.

“fuck…i need y-you,” he murmured between kisses, and he was such a perfect fit. the moment he was fully inside, you moaned, giving his bottom lip a sudden bite.

once he started to move, just a single thrust was enough to make your head spin. gojo delivered such a sloppy thrust, that your legs tightly hugged him—and your breathing started to hitch.

he always had such a sweet taste to him, whether it was candied or a rich tang of alcohol to it, you craved it every time.

gojo brings a hand down towards your tummy to lightly press on it, curving his thumb against your bare skin before breaking away for a split second. his nose rubbed against yours before he gives you a cunning sly smile.

“you always have this look on your face,” he whispered in a teasing tone — gojo traces a finger by your lips, pulling your bottom lip down before sliding a finger into your mouth. you willingly suck on it, and he stares intently. “pretty girl. you drive me insane, y’know that?”

his fingers were always made with such length. so slender…

gojo starts up a pace, and the way his hips start to snap against you—you moan a muffled moan. the way your thighs recoil from a single slam against you, it had your mind going in circles.

“always grippin' on me,” he huffs, leaning into the inner part of your neck to lightly sink his teeth. “f-fuck, fuck the grammys. i just want you.”

you wondered if he really meant that.

it was no secret with gojo’s problematic love life, he often gets around… but he’s never had an actual decent relationship. well, he’s had one.

he often doesn’t like to mention it, but it was all over the press.

you wanted to ask him about it, it was far before he became famous — some other a-list celebrity, but he’s always avoided that particular topic.

gojo probably doesn’t even know the true meaning of love.

but you’ve had thoughts that perhaps, just perhaps. maybe you could change that. as unprofessional as it was, the industry was always strict with gojo.

and ever since he stumbled upon you, he’s always felt a bit better. you never treated him any different, and he’s forever liked that about you.

whilst you’re deep in thought, you get brought back to reality once gojo’s covering your neck with visible marks. he’s moaning all into your neck, and he sounds so sweet. melodic moans.

“f-fuck,” he huffs out, kneeling a bit between you. this was the perfect position for him to stare deeply into your eyes. you moan, feeling his lips ghost against the inner part of your neck. his tongue softly dragged against your neck, and the way he rocked his body amongst you made you bite your lip. “look at me.”

your eyes meet his, and he notices a pretty glint in your eye. embarrassment washes over his face as not even two seconds pass, and your stare gets him flustered immediately.

“dunno what i’d do without you,” he huffs out, and he genuinely had such neediness in his tone. you felt a strange string at your heart.

gojo’s always been somewhat protective of you. being so close to him like this, his body weight just barely hovering over you…

his dick reached you deep, you felt the perfectly angled stretch…

the curve as your legs trapped his weight tightly. gojo was gentle, yet a bit rough to make your eyes just about go back. he leans in to sneak kisses near the corners of your lips before murmuring. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum soon.”

he was so warm, you got chills from his body let alone — his rhythm, it was so slow.

simply perfect and precise. for a moment, you drowned everything out, being entrapped into your own thoughts.

you started to wonder if you got together with gojo, maybe he’d finally be happy.

not having to worry about faking a dumb smile for the industry. perhaps you were a bit delusional, but you genuinely pondered about it.

the two of you always did have chemistry.

was it love … or just a game?

the moment gojo cums for a second time, then a third time, then a fourth… it made him moan against your neck. his moans were high-pitched, droplets of sweat racing down the edges of his forehead.

you took his breath away every single time. the way your pussy clung onto him, through and through—each time he’d dump such a thick load into you.

he’s panting heavily, huffing and puffing while leaving you full of nothing but his cum.

it stuck against your thighs, and he became so obsessed that he just kept fucking you—you whined, the back of your ankle, the pretty anklet that wrapped around your foot brushing back against his skin.

gojo never fails to leave kisses all over your body, he nips at the corners of your neck before letting off a low sigh.

“s-satoru,” you’d mumble after a while, feeling his hips come to a certain slow pause. it’s been various positions…and even for him, his legs were just about to give out.

the tips of his ears heat up before he grunts, feeling you continue to clamp down on him. you were now on his back—facing the opposite way, grinding against him and he was pulling you closer. “gonna cum too, ‘m gonna cum.”

“bet you are,” he whispers against your neck. you’re moving back against him in such a slow way it makes him groan—you’re being held with him having a hand playfully wrapped around your throat. his middle finger tickles the middle part of your neck whilst you squeeze his relaxed knee. “give it to me, pretty.”

your eyes meet the very depths of your head, and then you feel yourself start to dramatically spasm.

his cock prodded right amongst your g-spot, not once but a few times…and you let off a whimper once he kept hitting there again and again…

such bundles of nerves continue to build up and up.

your breath gets caught in your throat to where it’s almost like whiplash. gojo tugs on the fabric of your dress, sucking the tender skin of your neck.

“let go for me,” he utters in a soft tone, his tongue deducting trailing up your neck. he knew just how to make you squirm on his lap. “thaaaat’s it, relax.”

his words warmed their way straight down between your legs, he started to guide your hips with his hands, peppering a kiss near the corner of your ear. “make a mess on me ‘n i’ll clean you right up.”

you moaned, feeling that familiar coil in yours snap before you came, by now, you can’t even remember how many orgasms he’s coaxed out of you. “f-fuckkk.” you spat, slumping your head back against him.

“so good for me,” he pants, bringing a hand towards your tummy. he toys with the string of your panties that was lazily moved to the side before he nervously cheeses, realization washing over his face. “o-oh shit. the awards...”

and yet here you were, currently standing alongside gojo as he was accepting his fifth award.

the minute he announced to probably millions of people across the words that he was thankful for your pussy, the entire arena went dead silent.

all you could hear in the background was some lady screeching out, “you need to leave!”

“…satoru, you can’t just say that on live television.” you leaned in, whispering to him with clenched teeth.

“oh yeahhh…you’re right,” he sheepishly said, turning back towards the mic. he cleared his throat before grinning, holding up his award with the most unserious expression. “uh. i mean, i wanna thank my team, my uh…”

he goes mute for a moment before concluding his speech, finishing with a, “thank you a lot though! i am tooootally grateful. and also, don’t forget to pre-order my new single, ‘it guy.’ only $69.69. if you ask me, that’s not that bad of a deal, hehe. seriously, stream it. please?”

you spot nanami in the distance shaking his head in utter disappointment. he could already predict the current headlines about to roll out.

gojo brings you towards his limo after the awards, quickly rushing you so the both of you can avoid the paparazzi.

they were probably just itching for a reaction. once the two of you made it inside, he was saying something to you before he leaned in for a kiss.

you kiss him back, teasingly pulling his tie closer towards you, and he goes up between your legs, eager to finish what he started earlier. prints of your lipstick were all over his collar, and gojo even autographed your ass with his signature. only to smack it, making it smear all over.

you moaned, squeezing his hand before pulling away, panting—out of breath before you smiled, only to pause. you and him make direct eye contact, and he’s so close to your lips, so close to kiss you again but he waits for you to speak, do something.

he figured you were gonna kiss him again, but instead without even thinking, you whispered out a, “i- i think i love you.”

“…you what?”

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

Text

What kind of bubble is AI?

My latest column for Locus Magazine is "What Kind of Bubble is AI?" All economic bubbles are hugely destructive, but some of them leave behind wreckage that can be salvaged for useful purposes, while others leave nothing behind but ashes:

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

Think about some 21st century bubbles. The dotcom bubble was a terrible tragedy, one that drained the coffers of pension funds and other institutional investors and wiped out retail investors who were gulled by Superbowl Ads. But there was a lot left behind after the dotcoms were wiped out: cheap servers, office furniture and space, but far more importantly, a generation of young people who'd been trained as web makers, leaving nontechnical degree programs to learn HTML, perl and python. This created a whole cohort of technologists from non-technical backgrounds, a first in technological history. Many of these people became the vanguard of a more inclusive and humane tech development movement, and they were able to make interesting and useful services and products in an environment where raw materials – compute, bandwidth, space and talent – were available at firesale prices.

Contrast this with the crypto bubble. It, too, destroyed the fortunes of institutional and individual investors through fraud and Superbowl Ads. It, too, lured in nontechnical people to learn esoteric disciplines at investor expense. But apart from a smattering of Rust programmers, the main residue of crypto is bad digital art and worse Austrian economics.

Or think of Worldcom vs Enron. Both bubbles were built on pure fraud, but Enron's fraud left nothing behind but a string of suspicious deaths. By contrast, Worldcom's fraud was a Big Store con that required laying a ton of fiber that is still in the ground to this day, and is being bought and used at pennies on the dollar.

AI is definitely a bubble. As I write in the column, if you fly into SFO and rent a car and drive north to San Francisco or south to Silicon Valley, every single billboard is advertising an "AI" startup, many of which are not even using anything that can be remotely characterized as AI. That's amazing, considering what a meaningless buzzword AI already is.

So which kind of bubble is AI? When it pops, will something useful be left behind, or will it go away altogether? To be sure, there's a legion of technologists who are learning Tensorflow and Pytorch. These nominally open source tools are bound, respectively, to Google and Facebook's AI environments:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/18/openwashing/#you-keep-using-that-word-i-do-not-think-it-means-what-you-think-it-means

But if those environments go away, those programming skills become a lot less useful. Live, large-scale Big Tech AI projects are shockingly expensive to run. Some of their costs are fixed – collecting, labeling and processing training data – but the running costs for each query are prodigious. There's a massive primary energy bill for the servers, a nearly as large energy bill for the chillers, and a titanic wage bill for the specialized technical staff involved.

Once investor subsidies dry up, will the real-world, non-hyperbolic applications for AI be enough to cover these running costs? AI applications can be plotted on a 2X2 grid whose axes are "value" (how much customers will pay for them) and "risk tolerance" (how perfect the product needs to be).

Charging teenaged D&D players $10 month for an image generator that creates epic illustrations of their characters fighting monsters is low value and very risk tolerant (teenagers aren't overly worried about six-fingered swordspeople with three pupils in each eye). Charging scammy spamfarms $500/month for a text generator that spits out dull, search-algorithm-pleasing narratives to appear over recipes is likewise low-value and highly risk tolerant (your customer doesn't care if the text is nonsense). Charging visually impaired people $100 month for an app that plays a text-to-speech description of anything they point their cameras at is low-value and moderately risk tolerant ("that's your blue shirt" when it's green is not a big deal, while "the street is safe to cross" when it's not is a much bigger one).

Morganstanley doesn't talk about the trillions the AI industry will be worth some day because of these applications. These are just spinoffs from the main event, a collection of extremely high-value applications. Think of self-driving cars or radiology bots that analyze chest x-rays and characterize masses as cancerous or noncancerous.

These are high value – but only if they are also risk-tolerant. The pitch for self-driving cars is "fire most drivers and replace them with 'humans in the loop' who intervene at critical junctures." That's the risk-tolerant version of self-driving cars, and it's a failure. More than $100b has been incinerated chasing self-driving cars, and cars are nowhere near driving themselves:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/10/09/herbies-revenge/#100-billion-here-100-billion-there-pretty-soon-youre-talking-real-money

Quite the reverse, in fact. Cruise was just forced to quit the field after one of their cars maimed a woman – a pedestrian who had not opted into being part of a high-risk AI experiment – and dragged her body 20 feet through the streets of San Francisco. Afterwards, it emerged that Cruise had replaced the single low-waged driver who would normally be paid to operate a taxi with 1.5 high-waged skilled technicians who remotely oversaw each of its vehicles:

https://www.nytimes.com/2023/11/03/technology/cruise-general-motors-self-driving-cars.html

The self-driving pitch isn't that your car will correct your own human errors (like an alarm that sounds when you activate your turn signal while someone is in your blind-spot). Self-driving isn't about using automation to augment human skill – it's about replacing humans. There's no business case for spending hundreds of billions on better safety systems for cars (there's a human case for it, though!). The only way the price-tag justifies itself is if paid drivers can be fired and replaced with software that costs less than their wages.

What about radiologists? Radiologists certainly make mistakes from time to time, and if there's a computer vision system that makes different mistakes than the sort that humans make, they could be a cheap way of generating second opinions that trigger re-examination by a human radiologist. But no AI investor thinks their return will come from selling hospitals that reduce the number of X-rays each radiologist processes every day, as a second-opinion-generating system would. Rather, the value of AI radiologists comes from firing most of your human radiologists and replacing them with software whose judgments are cursorily double-checked by a human whose "automation blindness" will turn them into an OK-button-mashing automaton:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/08/23/automation-blindness/#humans-in-the-loop

The profit-generating pitch for high-value AI applications lies in creating "reverse centaurs": humans who serve as appendages for automation that operates at a speed and scale that is unrelated to the capacity or needs of the worker:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/04/17/revenge-of-the-chickenized-reverse-centaurs/

But unless these high-value applications are intrinsically risk-tolerant, they are poor candidates for automation. Cruise was able to nonconsensually enlist the population of San Francisco in an experimental murderbot development program thanks to the vast sums of money sloshing around the industry. Some of this money funds the inevitabilist narrative that self-driving cars are coming, it's only a matter of when, not if, and so SF had better get in the autonomous vehicle or get run over by the forces of history.

Once the bubble pops (all bubbles pop), AI applications will have to rise or fall on their actual merits, not their promise. The odds are stacked against the long-term survival of high-value, risk-intolerant AI applications.

The problem for AI is that while there are a lot of risk-tolerant applications, they're almost all low-value; while nearly all the high-value applications are risk-intolerant. Once AI has to be profitable – once investors withdraw their subsidies from money-losing ventures – the risk-tolerant applications need to be sufficient to run those tremendously expensive servers in those brutally expensive data-centers tended by exceptionally expensive technical workers.

If they aren't, then the business case for running those servers goes away, and so do the servers – and so do all those risk-tolerant, low-value applications. It doesn't matter if helping blind people make sense of their surroundings is socially beneficial. It doesn't matter if teenaged gamers love their epic character art. It doesn't even matter how horny scammers are for generating AI nonsense SEO websites:

https://twitter.com/jakezward/status/1728032634037567509

These applications are all riding on the coattails of the big AI models that are being built and operated at a loss in order to be profitable. If they remain unprofitable long enough, the private sector will no longer pay to operate them.

Now, there are smaller models, models that stand alone and run on commodity hardware. These would persist even after the AI bubble bursts, because most of their costs are setup costs that have already been borne by the well-funded companies who created them. These models are limited, of course, though the communities that have formed around them have pushed those limits in surprising ways, far beyond their original manufacturers' beliefs about their capacity. These communities will continue to push those limits for as long as they find the models useful.

These standalone, "toy" models are derived from the big models, though. When the AI bubble bursts and the private sector no longer subsidizes mass-scale model creation, it will cease to spin out more sophisticated models that run on commodity hardware (it's possible that Federated learning and other techniques for spreading out the work of making large-scale models will fill the gap).

So what kind of bubble is the AI bubble? What will we salvage from its wreckage? Perhaps the communities who've invested in becoming experts in Pytorch and Tensorflow will wrestle them away from their corporate masters and make them generally useful. Certainly, a lot of people will have gained skills in applying statistical techniques.

But there will also be a lot of unsalvageable wreckage. As big AI models get integrated into the processes of the productive economy, AI becomes a source of systemic risk. The only thing worse than having an automated process that is rendered dangerous or erratic based on AI integration is to have that process fail entirely because the AI suddenly disappeared, a collapse that is too precipitous for former AI customers to engineer a soft landing for their systems.

This is a blind spot in our policymakers debates about AI. The smart policymakers are asking questions about fairness, algorithmic bias, and fraud. The foolish policymakers are ensnared in fantasies about "AI safety," AKA "Will the chatbot become a superintelligence that turns the whole human race into paperclips?"

https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/27/10-types-of-people/#taking-up-a-lot-of-space

But no one is asking, "What will we do if" – when – "the AI bubble pops and most of this stuff disappears overnight?"

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

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/19/bubblenomics/#pop

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

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

tom_bullock (modified) https://www.flickr.com/photos/tombullock/25173469495/

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

#pluralistic #ai #economics #business #hype #bubbles #bubblenomics #residue

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