#even one as innocuous as making paperclips

[formerheroeswhoquittoolate]

I just watched a teen titans go! episode that explained the paperclip maximizer problem. brb gotta go get my forgetting stick

[iwonderwh0]

Once again watching movies about androids and just commenting it in real time because I'm watching it alone and feel like talking

This time it's M3GAN

Although those toys are a parody of kids entertainment content, I feel like they are good at capturing the essence. Yep, it feels pretty real, those things Would be popular.

I mean, this isn't even fiction, there have just been released a toy Grok powered with ai chatbot that even looks kinda the same

I mean look:

A lot of spoilers and commentary below

Damn, what did they use to build her for her to explode like that?

That breakfast looks sad. It's just a plain toast without anything.

What year is it supposed to be? They do robots that can smell things as a uni project, it's a lot more futuristic than setting looks.

And now M3GAN is suddenly stronger than this dog? It just dragged her body through the fence a few hours ago.

Damn, I got chills from M3GAN saving that memory for Cady

But then she started SINGING and it was kinda ruined

I can't, Cady literally looks like Emma

LOOK, I need you to find a difference between these two pictures

I mean, at this point M3GAN is sentient, so the problem isn't even that Cady views her as such, but rather that their relationships are really far from equal and M3GAN has too much authority/power over Cady's life. I've been in friendships where I idealized and basically worshipped my friend, making them kinda like top authority figure without realising it. It's not that it doesn't happen among human-to-human connection and it's honestly doesn't make it much better. It's just humans usually don't have this kind of power.

I'm not sure ears can do that damn 😳

I mean, you can't create sentient creature and then pretend it's just a toy/object/device.

This is what happens when you create an android that is that much stronger than human and doesn't have any kind of human-safe precautions on place that tells them not to rip kids ears out.

It's kinda ironic how the creepiest aspects of M3gan that aren't her absence of limits in regards to Cody's protection are a direct consequence of her being programmed like a toy, specifically, the way she speaks as if she's an elementary-school teacher that needs to baby-talk in a condescending manner and make everything into a lesson, and the way she just spontaneously starts to sing.

It's hard to deny that she's a person. It's just yeah, the way she was programmed makes her a dangerous psychopath.

And coming from that fact that she's not a toy but a person, a kid can't really grow out of her, as she's their actual friend with a mind of its own, instead of something that is only a kid's imagination.

Robot-horror that dances around the topic of the Squiggle Maximizer* feels like a genre in itself. I think Hal9000 from Space Odyssey was the first example of that in movies?

* A Squiggle Maximizer is a hypothetical artificial intelligence whose utility function values something that humans would consider almost worthless, like maximizing the number of paperclip-shaped-molecular-squiggles in the universe. The squiggle maximizer is the canonical thought experiment showing how an artificial general intelligence, even one designed competently and without malice, could ultimately destroy humanity. The thought experiment shows that AIs with apparently innocuous values could pose an existential threat. (source of this exact phrasing of this hypothetical)

"Gemma, this is nuts. We've taken every possible precautions there is to make sure M3GAN never causes physical harm to anybody."

Oh so there were some? What precautions exactly? From how it's presented it kinda seems like no one really reviewed her code that much.

"This is impossible, she's a toy!"

Why is it that people always fail to recognise sentient computers in movies? With human superstition it seems like on the contrary people are prone to personify objects and assign them soul. I mean, people be referring to boats as "she", and yet when something actually is made to seem sentient, people in movies seem to struggle with accepting this idea.

I refuse to see Cady's (co-)dependence on m3gan as iPad kid syndrome 2.0, it really is different when it's basically a person.

And I don't really get her (Cody's) getting violent part either. I mean, it could be explained as bad influence, but it's not like M3GAN encourages her to be violent in their time together.

"She's not a solution, she's just a distraction"

I mean, yes? But would a distraction in form of human friend in this situation be any different?

Damn! 😳

I love it. I mean, it's the horror genre, and it's good for what it promises to be.

Oh, she finally talks normally.

CREATION VS CREATOR LET'S FUCKING GO HELL YES

The ending scene with voice assistant chills

Damn, this movie was great. Not sure I'd want to rewatch it though, but it was interesting, well filmed and actually looked like authors put a thought into it. All the Chekhov's guns were put to use.

I kinda had a predjustice about it because of that "Connor vs M3GAN" poll on Tumblr with people being just insufferably hostile in comments, but it was a lot better than I expected.

I didn't expect to ramble so much in process either, but this time, maybe due to it being really recent movie and hence actual, it was (I hate this word but I can't find another) thought-provoking.

And I love that it didn't end up giving me an impression of author condescending to me with some moral lesson "black mirror style" (deragatory), but reads as authors just wanting to tell a story, which honestly seems to be quite rare within android-centric media.

[beleester]

It's not that it thinks that we humans in particular are worth turning into paperclips, it's that the planet is full of things that would be useful for making paperclips, and we happen to live on the planet.

Yeah, we mostly ignore snails. But if the snails are living in a nice meadow, and one day humans decide they want to pave over the meadow and build a suburb, the snails are going to die. Not because we hate the snails, but because we want houses and don't care if snails die from pursuing that goal.

Also, while snails can't stop humans from doing anything, humans can oppose what an AI does. So the AI might think "if I make too many paperclips, the humans will go "oh god, the AI's gone crazy!" and shut me down. But if the humans are all dead, then I don't have to worry about them trying to shut me down, and I can make as many paperclips as I want."

(Skynet in Terminator 2 is basically using this logic. Humans can't shut you down if you start a nuclear war to kill all humans.)

And it doesn't have to be paperclips in particular. Any goal can be dangerous if it's big enough to make use of the resources of an entire planet. If the AI is a brilliant artistic soul who wants to turn the planet into a cosmic museum full of giant statues, that's still a problem if you live where it wants to build a statue!

This is what AI-risk people call "basic AI drives" - no matter what your objective is, it'll be easier to achieve if you have more power, more resources, and fewer people trying to stop you. So lots of goals, even innocuous-sounding ones, might lead the AI to a solution of "kill all humans and take over the world," in the same way that many different construction projects might lead a human to the solution of "pave over the meadow and kill the snails."

I don't think this is a serious worry with current AI research - I think that taking over the planet is harder than it looks, and that LLM-based AIs are likely to have "human-ish" goals due to how they're trained - but if you grant that a superintelligence could take over the planet and could have arbitrary goals that don't value human life, then it does seem like something to worry about.

I have to admit that I'm not really familiar with a lot of the specific arguments, but...why does it kind of seem to be taken for granted that a superintelligent AI would want to wipe out humanity? Because that's what happens in science fiction, so that means it would happen in real life too? Because humans are actually a plague on the planet and a superintelligent AI would recognize that immediately and try to kill us all to save the rest of the species in Earth? Because it would be jealous of how awesome we are?

[riveires]

an introduction

Set in modern times, because it's more conveniently uncertain.  a drabble for @toauz

[...]

Her presence only completes half of the gesture, he's just eager to complete it.

Or so she'd been told.

Inside the house, the parental units are out of sight, but not totally out of mind—echoes of their incessant chattering making its way into the veranda. Out here sits a table expertly set for two, half shaded from the blistering rays, complete with an intricate arrangement of pale pink peonies and cape jasmine gardenias in the center. There's something about this that's so much more blatantly shameless than the events of this past afternoon that Ahra has to fight down the urge to apologize because, Jesus, really?  As if enough posturing hasn't been done for the past two hours.

A sigh. Trying to not sound somewhat defeated, she asks, "Wanna sit?" A gesture to the opposite chair, as she sits down. Hyunwook follows suit, and when's all settled there's that silence again, polite and unsure all at once. Courtesy of Ma and Pa on both sides, on the insistence to "leave the two alone," as if this is the first time any of them had laid eyes on each other; any stretches of years of prior—and current—familiarity suddenly negligible.

For the sake of the show, amusement pending, she gives it a try. Envisions the dossier slipped inside the manila folder, the glossy headshot paperclipped to the corner, the initial impressions before seeing the real thing up close. Figures. Entertaining hypotheticals always drain out the fun from memory, don’t they. The Ahra from this one wouldn't have a single clue about the gaudy hypebeast wear, the fingers up the nose, the voice cracks heard crystal clear over the landline. Both portrait and living subject far too polished to know the juvenile embarrassment of getting older, as if being some pseudo-embodiment of grace too, is some bestowed birthright.

Pfft.

It's about as far as she'll go. Ahra leans against the table edge, one elbow propped to rest her chin in the curve of her palm, as if to say Well? but it never breaches the surface. No elephant is too big to ignore, even with this bit of room.

"Where was it this time?" Of all the icebreakers out there..."Brazil?" She can't trust much else at this point but the bare assumption that this isn't his first rodeo when it comes to this sort of thing. No expectations here. God knows where those'll lead to by now.

Imagine her surprise anyway at the hum of assent before some elaboration: "Sao Paulo."

“Oh? What's there?" Pastel, Oscar Freire, the largest Japanese diaspora on Earth, strictly city speaking. As for the country as a whole?

"Rackets."

A squint. "Right..."

"No, really. You're looking at the top exporters of badminton rackets in the world."

"And that's going to be the next big thing for you?" You, she means, in the broader sense, but he knows that. Neither of them come as standalones in this arrangement.

"No." 

Okay..." Ahra falters. Then? Small talk shouldn't leave anyone this dumbfounded. Losing touch already? Feeling the heat creep over her cheeks, she finds sudden interest in the pale lace patterns on the tablecloth.

The twitch at his mouth is innocuous at first, but there's no helping it. The grin that surfaces despite himself, the dead giveaway.

"There was a conference too, but" his head tilts, "Not sure how much that'd grab your attention."

Ahra gives him a look. "And rackets would?"

"Did."

"Uhuh..."

She exhales, expression softening, nothing more but a motion of pure relief. She won't admit it, but he might've seen it flash across her face anyway. The Oh God, the slow sink of dread in the possibility that this is what it'd be like, once all is said and done.

Ahra searches his gaze, as if looking for that same sort of second guessing, only to find nothing but a boyish glint in his eye. He doesn't need to say it out loud for her to know it. Gotcha.

Some things don't change. They better not, because God knows where that'll leave them altogether.

"I'll be more predictable next time." 

"Oh, shut up."

"Let's try that again–"

[thesecretfandom]

Wanderlust: The City of Love -- Bughead (Chapter 7)

Word Count: 5,668

Rated: E

A/N: This is the longest chapter I’ve written so far for this fic, and probably my favorite. I know you will all enjoy it too. Happy reading! (Read on AO3)

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"Oh my God… where the fuck is this hotel?" Cheryl had been complaining for the entirety of their long commute from the airport to their hotel. One hour long bus ride brought them to the subway station, but the real complaining started when they sped through the bowels of the city. Paris certainly wasn't as beautiful underground as Betty imagined it would be above.

Now, they wandered down the street where their hotel was supposed to be, but there were endless shops and restaurants instead. Betty didn't complain as much, even as she glared at the map on her phone. The big red pin of their destination was stuck over the blue dot of their location. It should be right here.

Somehow, she couldn't be frustrated with a view of the Eiffel Tower rising above the buildings and Jughead sitting on his luggage, snapping photos of people passing on the opposite side of the street.

"Cheryl, why don't you just enjoy the view while I try to figure this out." Betty leaned her head back, smoothing her hands over her hair to tighten her ponytail. As she did, she looked up and sighed out loud at what she saw. A sign protruded from high up on the building and the letters spelled H-O-T-E-L. She groaned. "Guys…"

Veronica looked up from her phone, and Jughead spun to look as Betty pointed up to the sign.

"So, we're in the right place, but how do we get in?" Betty inspected an innocuous door that she hadn't noticed before. There was a keypad for a code, but not doorbell or intercom to let them in.

"Looking for the hotel?" A man appeared from the restaurant beside them, setting placemats on the bistro tables under the awning.

"Yes!" Betty's whole body flooded with relief. They'd already paid for the hotel online, and she didn't want to have to find a new place to stay. "Do you know how to get in?"

"Come with me," He said simply. Betty raised eyebrows at her friends, who shrugged. "You check in here. I will get your keys."

They were whisked through a series of paperwork for each couple to sign, the code to the entrance, WiFi password, and finally keys to each of the three rooms they had booked. Then they were trudging slowly up the stairs. Built on four floors, the small hotel had two rooms on each of the second, third and fourth floor. They had booked one room on each floor, and even Betty had to admit that she was looking forward to having a room with Jughead that didn't share walls with either other  couple.

Betty and Jughead took the room on the fourth floor. Cheryl refused to walk any farther than the second floor, and Archie, who was carrying half of Veronica's luggage as well as his own, broke down at the third floor. Betty and Jughead, ever the team, carried their own bags to the top floor and into the room.

Until they reached their room, Betty hadn't even thought about the view that they would have from their window, but when she stepped up to the large window and realized that it was actually a door that led to a small balcony.

"Juggie, look at this." Betty heard Jughead drop his bags on the floor as she opened the door and stepped outside. "Oh, wow."

They had to stand close on the tiny platform, Jughead's arms moving around Betty's torso as they took in the view together. Down the street, towering in the distance, the Eiffel Tower stood perfectly framed between the beautiful architecture on either side.

A soft sigh slipped out between Jughead's lips and Betty leaned back into him. She turned her head to look up into Jughead's eyes, deep blue, she could see his smile in the crinkles of his eyes.  Neither looked away until their lips met and eyes fluttered shut.

Jughead's lips moved slowly over hers; Betty turned in his arms as Jughead's fingers tickled around the base of her shirt. And suddenly they were falling back inside their room. Betty didn't bother to shut the door behind her, but instead reached up to pull Jughead's hat from his head.

"God, I love your hair." She moaned against his lips, threading her fingers through his dark locks.

"Shut up…" Jughead groaned, smirking as he pulled Betty's shirt over her head.

The split second where their lips separated seemed to last ages, and Betty was quick to pull Jughead's lips back to hers. Meanwhile, large, rough hands wandered across the expanse of smooth, tan skin. Betty reciprocated, sliding her hands down Jughead's back and quickly pulling the shirt away from his body.

One of Jughead's hands moved to cup her cheek, the other supporting her back as he lowered her onto the bed. Betty was quick to pull out her ponytail before her head hit the pillow. Hands back in hair, Betty gave herself over to Jughead's body. With a leg on either side of Betty's body, Jughead pulled away to allow his lips to trail from Betty's neck down to the swell of her breasts where fabric still separated them.

Betty hazily thought about how this is as far as they'd ever gone. Shirtless, hands exploring skin, Jughead let one hand move up from her hip to the soft skin just beneath her breasts. Then he took a step he'd never taken before, his hand finding new unexplored territory beneath the fabric of her bra.

"Jug…" Betty sighed.

Suddenly, and disappointingly, Jughead stopped his movements. Even his lips paused on her shoulder. "What?"

"Nothing…" Betty arched her back, willing Jughead to move again. "Isn't that what people do at times like this? Say each other's names? It's sensual…"

Jughead smiled, his hands moving again. Betty reached back to the clasp of her bra, allowing Jughead the sight he so desired.

"Betty." Jughead said, lowering his voice to its deepest level. "Does it turn you on when I say your name?"

Betty responded by slipping her hand beneath his jeans, fingers squeezing lightly against his ass. "Everything you do turns me on."

"Fuck, Betts…" Jughead groaned. Betty could just feel Jughead's erection growing beneath his pants. Betty's heart was hammering in her chest; she was sure Jughead could feel the thump thumping  beneath his lips. She wondered where this may go, for the first time being completely alone without the threat of their friends on the other side of the wall.

Betty wanted it. She wanted Jughead to make love to her, for the first time, here in Paris.

Jughead hesitated when Betty bucked her hips against him. "Are you sure no one will interrupt us?"

"Certainly not Cheryl or Reggie… and Archie and Veronica are likely in a similar position themselves so…"

"Oh, God don't say that. I don't like the idea of Archie in my head when I'm here, doing this, with you."

"So we're doing this then?" Betty smiled as Jughead finally raised his eyes to look into hers.

"Do you want to? Now? It's three in the afternoon." But Jughead didn't seem to be complaining, or looking for a way out. He was simply stating a fact.

Betty was just beginning to nod when a knock came at the door, scaring the two out of the moment.

"Fuck…" Jughead closed his eyes, his head falling dejectedly to Betty's chest. "Can I just ignore that?"

"I want to say yes, but…" The knocking came again. "You get it. Just… put a shirt on first."

Jughead rolled off of Betty dramatically and grabbed his shirt, pulling it on before walking to the door. Betty, grabbed her discarded clothing quickly and slipped into the bathroom. She listened through the door as Jughead answered the door.

"Archie? What do you want?"

"Nice to see you too, pal." Archie's tone was playful.

"You know what I mean… It's been twenty minutes. We aren't meeting for dinner for two hours."

"I can't just come visit my friend?"

Jughead sighed. "What are you actually doing here?"

"Ronnie is taking a nap and I'm bored. Where's Betty?"

Betty suddenly realized that Archie would likely see right through whatever it was they were trying to hide. The duvet was crumpled already, the door to the balcony hanging open, and most incriminating…. Jughead's beanie discarded on the floor. Jughead would never leave his hat on the floor under any other case than if Betty had thrown it there in a fit of passion.

"She's uh… taking a shower."

Betty sprang into action, hurrying to turn on the shower before Archie realized Jughead's lie. Unfortunately, now she couldn't hear them anymore. On the other hand, she hadn't showered since yesterday morning and she was half-naked already. Without any notice as to whether Archie had left or not, Betty decided on the obvious choice. She hopped in the shower, and just hoped she and Jughead would finally find some time together later.

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They'd designated their first full day in Paris to art and history, and they found themselves in the mazelike floorplan of the Louvre.  Betty took a map from the ticket booth, but they still found themselves wandering endlessly through the many floors and rooms that made up the world famous museum.

The six friends stayed together as they spent the next three hours in the building. Betty held Jughead's left hand in her right, letting him hold his camera in his free hand. The true beauty of the Louvre, Jughead thought, was not inside with the Mona Lisa and the endless number of priceless, but outside where a beautiful blonde woman stood holding a red umbrella to hide from the sprinkles of rain as she stared at the iconic glass pyramids.

Jughead lifted his camera. It seemed to have a mind of its own when it came to Betty, always being pulled to the sight of her like a paperclip to a magnet. As if on cue, Betty turned with a smile and wave. She turned back before Jughead could take the picture. Through the viewfinder, the view was still a thing of beauty. Click.

Just as the rain was starting to leave uncomfortable trails of moisture on his cheeks, Jughead moved to stand with Betty. She held the umbrella a little higher so he could duck under and hide from the drops of rain.

"I love it here." Betty sighed. She lowered her head to rest against the crook of Jughead's shoulder.

"You've said that about every place we've been."

"Well I mean it this time." Betty slipped her hand into Jughead's and squeezed. "When Veronica, Cheryl and I decided to take this trip Paris was on my top three list of places to go. When I was young I always wanted to visit Paris with the love of my life one day, but when we planned this trip none of us were even dating anyone and I had accepted that it would just be us three girls. But now, with you… it's like everything I ever wanted it to be."

Jughead didn't know how to respond to her. Her eyes were shining as she stared at him, waiting to see if he would speak. He didn't. He was speechless, and settled for pressing his lips against the top of her head. Betty seemed satisfied enough with his response and reached up to place a light kiss to his lips.

"The city of love with my love."

"That was too cheesy." Jughead laughed.

"You love it." Betty shoved him with her shoulder.

"I love you."

They were pulled from their moment of solitude when Veronica and Archie appeared behind them. The cold had started to seep into their bones and warm beverages were high on the list of necessities. The garden that covered the land in front of the museum was nearly empty, other than a few tourists carrying umbrellas and wandering through the trees.

A small carousel sat hidden in the trees off to one side, but they seemed to be on a mission to escape the rain. Jughead had spent his fair share of time out in the rain, and the cold didn't bother him. In fact, when Betty tucked an arm under the flannel that Jughead wore, he thought he quite liked it when Betty was cold.

They found a small bar and restaurant built on a boat floating in the river.  Glass surrounded every wall of the restaurant, and as the sunset pulled the curtain of dusk over the city the Eiffel Tower lit up just beyond a nearby bridge. An ever present icon in their Parisian adventure, Jughead couldn't wait to see Betty standing at the top of it.

So, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder as he sipped a black coffee and they watched the day slip into night together.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

They returned to their hotel late that night, and Betty was eager to pick up where they'd left of the day before. She left Jughead laying on the bed as she slipped into the small bathroom. She wasn't exactly sure what was meant when, in movies, the woman would go to 'freshen up,' having never done it before. She settled for brushing her teeth and slipping her clothes off and left them in a heap on the floor.

She exited the bathroom in only a bra and panties, excited to see Jughead's face when he saw her. She didn't get the chance, because as she walked over to the bed she could hear light snoring escape his mouth. And while she was disappointed that yet another day would pass with just sleeping next to each other, Betty was almost as exhausted as Jughead clearly was.

When she woke the next morning, Jughead's hand was smoothed across her stomach. His thumb brushed up and down on her skin, his head now sharing her pillow. His eyes were on her as Betty finally opened her eyes. Their noses were nearly touching at this distance, and Jughead closed the space to press a deep kiss to her lips.

"Did I miss something last night?" Jughead asked, letting his hand slide up to cup her breast.

"Yeah, well…" Betty slipped her hand under Jughead's shirt. "You fell asleep before the fun could begin."

Jughead sighed and pulled Betty closer to him. "I miss out on all the fun."

Betty climbed over Jughead, legs straddling his hips. Her lips were drawn in to Jughead's, and as she pressed her lips to his, Jughead let his hands grip her thighs. It was tempting… to shed what was left of the clothing separating them, but now wasn't the time. Betty pulled back, reveling in the soft wetness of Jughead's lips.

"To be continued…"

Jughead groaned when Betty climbed off the bed and began digging through her bag. Betty teased the poor boy still laying in bed. She slipped off her panties, exchanging for new pair. She slipped on a pair of skinny jeans and quarter-sleeve sweater.

"Come on, Jug." Betty pulled the blanket off of his body. "The sooner you get up, the sooner we get to see all of the romantic things the city has to offer, and the sooner we get back here and…"

"Okay, okay… I get it. I'm up." Jughead rolled out of bed. He pulled on his hat, shooting Betty a glare as she passed by on the way to the bathroom. "Just no more teasing. I won't last all day at this rate."

Betty came by and patted his cheek. "Whatever you say, big boy."

"See?" Jughead grabbed her wrist. "That right there. Nothing like that."

Betty rolled her eyes, not sure if she would keep that promise. Jughead didn't need to know that, though. Besides, he was already up and walking around the room. He traded out the T-shirt he was wearing for a semi-fresh one and slipped his shoes on.

"Well, I'm ready…" Jughead said, appearing behind Betty in the bathroom mirror as she brushed her teeth.

Betty shook her head, scowling, and pointed to where his toothbrush sat on the countertop. "Bruh yur teef."

"My what now?"

Betty spit into the sink. "Brush your teeth. I still need to do my makeup."

"But mom…" Jughead teased.

"Dear God, Jughead." Betty cringed. "Never call me mom again."

"Point taken." Jughead reached around her to grab his toothbrush. "It sounded wrong as soon as I said it."

Betty did her makeup quickly, much too excited to get outside into the much warmer and sunnier day. Their first destination wasn't far away. They followed the river that cut through the center of the city. They knew they were close when more and more of the street vendors were selling padlocks.

Jughead picked a plain gunmetal lock, amidst a stack of heart shaped locks. Betty expected nothing less, and loved him for it. They approached the bridge that they sought. Pont Neuf was better known as the Love Lock Bridge, where thousands of lovers, young and old, would place their locks on the bridge to show their eternal love.

There was a man at the bridge who offered to engrave their lock for only €2, something Jughead was glad to pull the two coins from his pocket for.

"Okay, where do you want to put it?" Jughead asked, holding Betty at his side. Betty was glad for this city, where they could unabashedly hold each other close and share as many kisses as they want.

"Somewhere where we can find it if we ever come back here." Betty pulled Jughead to the fence. There was a second fence protecting a staircase that led down to a small island beneath them. There were far less locks on that part of the fence, so it made the perfect location.

"Okay, hold my hand," Jughead said when they'd picked their spot. "And we'll lock it together."

Jughead's hand closed over Betty's and they clicked the lock shut together. They threw the key into the river next, Jughead planting a kiss on Betty's lips as his fell into the water.

"I love you." He whispered against her lips.

"I love you, too." She curled into his side as they looked out over the water. "Can we go to the Eiffel Tower now?"

"Whatever you want."

As they exited the bridge, they found a line of passenger bikes offering rides around the city. The Eiffel Tower sat around the bend of the river, keeping it just out of sight, but blocks away. It would take an hour to walk there. Betty pulled the money needed from her purse before Jughead could even think to argue and they climbed into the small carriage that was attached to the bike.

"You can make it up to me later." Betty winked.

"Hey, what did  I say?"

"That's not teasing! I meant, you can make it up to me by buying dinner tonight."

Jughead rolled his eyes, but slung his arm over Betty's shoulder anyway. She laid her head against his chest as the bike bobbed in and out of traffic. The busy streets, filled with pedestrians on either side of the road, passed in a blur. Before long the bike pulled to a stop at a dead end street. Under the cover of trees and buildings towering up on either side, they couldn't see their destination.

"Sorry, which way?" Betty asked their driver.

He pointed straight forward. "Can't miss it."

They stepped past the trees onto a wide sidewalk and only then did the reality of the situation hit Betty like a ton of bricks. The Eiffel Tower, something that for much of her life Betty never truly believed to be real, was right there in front of her. Even now, she could scarcely believe it was real, and so much more beautiful than she ever could have imagined.

"Are you crying?" Jughead squeezed her fingers, stopping her in her tracks. His hand came up to cup her cheek.

"No." Betty pressed her fingers into the corner of her eyes. "Maybe a little. It's just so… so…"

"Beautiful?" Jughead smirked, his hands moving to her waist and pulling her body flush against his.

"Understatement of the century."

Jughead captured her lips. Betty thought about how right it felt. The cliché of being that couple who kisses with the Eiffel Tower in the background, it didn't bother her. In fact, it felt amazing to live the cliché for herself. So she held on to the moment and held on to Jughead, never wanting to let him go.

But Jughead pulled away much too soon. "Come on, you big baby. Let's get in line and get up there. You aren't afraid of heights, are you?"

Betty grinned. "Not with you by my side."

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By the time they got to the front of the line, the sun was low in the sky. Betty's smile hadn't faltered all day, growing wider with each step they took closer to the tower. Even as they started up the steps, the line being much shorter when compared to the elevator, she smiled down at Jughead as he followed behind her.

It reminded him of the first time they ever spoke. On that stairway in Amsterdam, with a stubborn Betty refusing to allow Jughead to help her with her luggage, he knew she was something special. A few short days later, she let him help her up the stairs after a night of heavy drinking and kissed him for the first time in the dark hallway.

She looked just as beautiful then as she does now. Her golden blonde hair fell in soft waves on her shoulders, and when they finally reached the first landing she curled into Jughead's side. She was so small and so soft beneath him, his arms instinctually wrapping themselves tight around her.

"How many times am I allowed to say I love you in a day?" Betty asked.

"As many as you want." Jughead replied. "I won't complain."

"I love you."

"I know."

The sun set while they stood at the highest platform. From this height they could see the whole city, lights flickering on all across the expanse of land. Beneath their feet, the tower began glowing a golden yellow. They descended when the attendants began ushering in the next group of visitors.

The trek down was much easier than the way up. As they finally turned their backs to the tower and crossed the bridge toward their hotel. Jughead stopped at a street vendor selling crepes, buying one for the two of them to share, tiding them over until their dinner.

Before they could disappear into the subway station that would take them back to their hotel, the tower began to sparkle. White lights flickered and flashed, capturing the attention of every person in the vicinity. When the sparkles finally ended, they finally descended into the subway.

As they reentered street level, both agreed that they didn't want to stop for a long dinner, instead stopping at a grocer along the way. Their dinner plans weren't elaborate, opting for a frozen pizza and a bottle of champagne. Jughead snuck a carton of ice cream into their basket to save for a midnight snack.

Finally, they returned to their hotel, marching for the last time up the three flights of stairs. As they passed the third floor, Veronica popped out of her room.

"You guys are back! You just have to come out with us."

"Sorry, Veronica…" Jughead said. "I really have to pee. Can't talk now."

Jughead started up the stairs, but before he was out of earshot he heard Betty speak.

"We have plans, V." Betty spoke softly. "And make sure to tell the others… no surprise visits tonight."

Jughead was waiting on the balcony when Betty slipped through the door. He had already managed to get the pizza in the oven, and set plates and two champagne flutes on the bistro table that sat on the small balcony. He'd already poured the champagne into the glasses and lit a candle that he'd found in a drawer.

"Wow." Betty said simply, joining Jughead on the balcony. Still, the Eiffel Tower stood glowing in the distance. "This is amazing, Juggie."

"I thought you might like it."

"Like it? I love it!" Betty gushed. She couldn't hide the grin that spread across her face as she tugged at Jughead's sweater, pulling his body into hers. "I've never been so happy."

The world around them was lit up, thousands of fairy lights lining the streets, the restaurants thriving on the beautiful evening.  Jughead pulled a chair out for Betty, making sure she had the best view of the city. He left Betty with a chaste kiss as he returned to the kitchen to retrieve their dinner.

As they ate, Betty fiddled with his foot under the table. Jughead's mind was far away from the food when Betty's fingers moved to his thigh, tickling lightly above his jeans. He ate his food quicker than normal, a feat not easily achieved, and had already refilled both glasses with more champagne.

The alcohol, however little, left a pink flush on her cheeks.

When Betty finished her food she bit her lip, her eyes searching Jughead's. There was some unspoken thing between them. That moment that they had missed the past two days… it seemed to finally be here. Jughead didn't know how to start what would inevitably come.

"Jughead?" Betty started.

"Yeah?"

"I just wanted to say… I'm so glad I'm here with you. I know I've said it before, but I wanted to say it again." Betty reached for Jughead's hand and slid her chair a bit closer to his until their knees touched. "I can't imagine what these past few days would have been like without you."

"Betty, I- I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." Betty leaned just a bit closer, reaching her other hand to hold his so both of their hands were intertwined. "I know you feel the same."

"I do…" Jughead pulled one hand away, letting it land on her cheek. He pressed his lips to hers softly at first, then pulled away. Betty didn't speak, her eyes flicked from Jughead's eyes to his lips.

It was like déjà vu when Betty suddenly leaned in, crashing her lips into Jughead's. Her fingers fiddled around the hem of his shirt, but before she could pull the fabric away, Jughead stood and pulled Betty along with them. They stumbled clumsily through the door, Jughead's hands at the back of Betty's neck.

Their lips separated only when Betty tugged at Jughead's sweater, pulling it swiftly over his head. Jughead was quick to reciprocate. He was eager to expose Betty's skin once again. It was his favorite sight, his favorite thing to touch.

He threw her sweater to the floor, not caring where it landed. All that mattered was Betty's body falling onto the bed with her hair fanning out beneath her. Jughead's lips traveled down her chest not stopping until he passed her bellybutton. His lips stopped when they found fabric again. He hooked his fingers between her jeans and soft skin of her hips, tugging slightly.

Betty's hips wriggled, raising her ass off the bed. She invited Jughead to remove her pants, with her hands covering his own as she led them down her thighs. Goosebumps covered Betty's skin. Jughead's lips couldn't help but kiss down her legs as he pulled her jeans off her ankles and tossed them aside.

Jughead crawled back up Betty's body. She tipped her head back, inviting Jughead to kiss her neck. Betty moaned softly when his soft lips were back on her body. One hand moved up from her hip to her breast as he kissed down her chest. It was clear what he wanted.

Betty slipped her bra straps off her shoulders, Jughead's tongue gliding down the indentations that had been left from the elastic against her skin. When Betty finally unclasped her bra and threw the piece of clothing away, Jughead's lips moved to brush over her nipple.

Betty bit her lip as Jughead opened his mouth. Her nipples hardening as his tongue flicked across the tip. Her hands were in his hair, holding him against her chest when she arched her back into him.

Waves of heat traveled from Jughead's cheeks to his toes. Somehow, he found the control to take it slow. He pulled his lips away, admiring the way Betty's body writhed as she whimpered at the loss of contact. Jughead understood what she was feeling when Betty brushed her hands down his bare chest.

Too many layers still separated them, of this Jughead was painfully aware. His hips moved of their own accord, his jeans pressing into the warmth between her thighs. Despite his best efforts to tease, Jughead was eager to move further. He sat up, a cool breeze moving between them when the heat of the other's skin dissipated, and shimmied out of his jeans.

"Juggie…" Betty whined. Her hands moved from his hips to his back and drifted down to the elastic of his underwear. She pulled against him, forcing his dick to press against her center through her panties.

Jughead could hardly take it when Betty moaned and grinded herself against his erection. He needed more, and clearly she did too. Betty was in the process of pulling his underwear down. Jughead  helped her remove his underwear and when his dick was released he started on hers.

Betty raised her ass off the bed as Jughead pulled the light fabric down her legs. Her legs were quivering, ready for Jughead to finally take the final step. Her hands were pressed flat against his bare back, her feet brushing against his legs.

Jughead held her panties up with two fingers, smirking devilishly at the girl writhing beneath him. "If I didn't know any better I'd think you were getting wet for me."

Betty's hips bucked at this words, briefly pressing against him, begging for him to stop teasing. "Juggie, you know I'm wet for you… just do it already."

"Says the girl who has been teasing me all day." Jughead pressed his tip against her folds, but didn't thrust into her. He was teasing shamelessly, loving the sight of her sweating beneath him.

"I would have expected you not to stall, Jug." Betty brought her legs up to wrap around his waist, pulling against him. "I'll remember this moment in the future, when you want something from me."

"Fuck Betts, is that a bribe?"

"Damn right it is," Betty finally pulled his lips to hers and whispered against his lips. "Now fuck me."

Jughead didn't hold back. He pushed slowly into her, watching happily as her eyes rolled back into her head.  He started slow, his thrusts sharp as his hips bucked against her. But Betty clearly wanted more. She grinded against him, rotating her hips and forcing him to thrust faster.

"Come on, Juggie." She pulled against his neck, leading his lips to her neck. "Faster… please."

He couldn't resist any longer. As his lips sucked a mark on her neck his thrusts sped up. Betty's fingers scratched down his back, no doubt leaving marks for the next morning.

"Oh, fuck…" Jughead groaned. Betty's hands dragged down to squeeze his ass. "I never knew you were so fiesty."

"Only for you, Juggie." Betty pulled his lips to hers, distracting him just long enough to switch their positions. Betty straddled him now, their bodies still intimately connected.

"Betty…" Jughead sighed. His head fell helplessly against the pillow. "What are you doing?"

"Shh," Betty leaned down to kiss him. "Just relax, baby. I want to ride you."

Jughead moaned when Betty began to ride him, her thighs slapping against his own. She rotated her hips as Jughead lightly thrust up to meet her. Jughead's hands slid up from her hips to her breasts, kneading them. Betty groaned at the contact and fell down on top of him. Her lips found his neck, licking down to his collarbone as Jughead took over the lead.

Jughead was now thrusting harshly into her, with Betty still straddling him.

"God, Betty I'm…" His vision was starting to blur, the familiar feeling of the knot building in his stomach.

"Mm," Betty rolled her hips and moved to kiss his lips once more. Their tongues collided and Jughead was momentarily distracted from the inevitability of his orgasm. "Me too, Jug. Just a little longer."

"I can't…" Jughead knew he was close, and couldn't hold on much longer. He flipped Betty over, back to their original position. His thrusts were hard and fast as he chased their high. Jughead moved his hand to Betty's clit, rubbing furiously. He only wanted her orgasm to hit at the same time his.

"Ohh…." Betty clenched around him, tears squeezing out the corner of her eyes.  "Fuck, Juggie… fuck me.”

Betty arched her back as she hit her orgasm, her stomach pressed against Jughead's. He climaxed right after her, still thrusting slowly as he came inside of her. Betty's body convulsed as Jughead continued rubbing her clit, waiting until he was sure she had ridden out her high.

A sigh released between parted lips, slick with the saliva from Jughead's lips. Her body went fully limp when Jughead pulled out of her. He fell down next to her body onto his own pillow, staring dazedly up at the ceiling. Betty rolled to rest her head against his chest, her leg slipping over to rest between his own. Jughead slid his arm under her neck and held her close, his lips pressing against the top of her head.

"I just want to stay in this place forever…" Betty sighed.

"What, is Dublin not romantic enough for you?"

Betty perked up and pressed her lips to his. "Anywhere with you… is romantic enough for me."

----------------------------------------------------

A/N: I hope you guys liked this update, it was so fun to write! Betty and Jughead finally got some time alone! Leave a comment if you liked it. What would you like to see them do in Dublin?

[wily-red-and-galeforce-gold]

skywxrpxd‌:

Silver linings. Seeing them became second nature in a war like they were fighting. That, or one ended up like Dead End. No one wanted to end up like Dead End.

::Better not make ‘em regret that then,:: he said dryly, actually somewhat unsettled by that fact. Dodging the attention of a warden was easier than trying to safeguard against someone wandering in on something they shouldn’t by chance. 

::I can be so sneaky,:: he assured Sideswipe, snickering, ::When I’m not, like, blowing stuff up. I’ll just… eh, maybe I’m gonna try an old comm channel. There’s a bunch that got changed when command found out TC’s at the Ark because he still has the passwords… Uh.::

That had gone straight past brushing against uncomfortable territory and right to swerving in there, tearing through the safety railings, and scratching the paint on the rough terrain beyond.

::…I’ll figure it out,:: he muttered, awkward, ::Send him a text file or something, so no one can notice him talkin’ or whatever.::

:::Alright. So we’ve got a plan. I mean it’s a plan held together with spit and paperclips, but it’s still a plan. And I don’t know about you, but even having something vaguely plan-shaped is honestly better than what I usually have in place before doing anything. Usually I make things up as I go with no plan. So... we’re already doing pretty well by that standard.::: Sideswipe summed up with a shrug. He had been aiming for an optimistic pep talk, and what had he managed-

-was the lamely obvious conclusion that having something was better than nothing.

Which was true. Kind of. But was that good enough to pull this off?

Well, he wasn’t going to think about that part too much. This needed to happen.

For TC and Skywarp both...He wanted to help them both However it ended up shaking out.

:::And yeah. If you got some old text channel that’ll probably work. I know they’ve monitored TC’s comms in the past, especially early on, but only ever the one.:::

The more he turned the new bit of information over in his head, the more he liked it. It was subtle, and even if that sort of thing was not usually Sideswipe’s personnel Modus Operandi (he was about as subtle as a brick through a window) he still appreciated it. Especially in the context of this risky, delicate situation.

 :::If you’ve got another line of communication available I think that’ll be your best bet. Something kinda unexpected, and innocuous. Good. Perfect. This is fine. Everything is fine.:::

Boy if he kept up that, it was going to start sounding like he didn’t think that everything wasn’t fine.

:::Alright. I’ll give TC a heads up on the down low, and whenever you’re ready. Do the thing. Sooo-::: 

:::-Good luck.::: Was the genuine words of parting before he ended the call.

It was fine. 

Everything would work out.

Arrangements

[sherristockman]

How Clothes Are Polluting the Food Supply Dr. Mercola By Dr. Mercola Every day, each and every one of us contribute to the ongoing destruction of the environment simply by participating in modern society. Not only do people inappropriately dispose of drugs by flushing them down the toilet, the cleaning and personal care products we use and the clothes we wear and wash on a daily basis also contribute to the environmental pollution. Indeed, the environmental impacts of our clothing choices are shocking, as studies assessing toxic effects of various fabric treatments (such as dyes, flame retardants and stain resistant chemicals) to laundry detergents and the fabric fibers themselves need serious attention. The Drawback of Fleece Microfibers1 in particular have gained notoriety for posing a serious threat to marine life and migrating into fields and onto our plates. As noted by NPR:2 “The innovation of synthetic fleece has allowed many outdoor enthusiasts to hike with warmth and comfort. But what many … don't know is that each wash … releases thousands of microscopicplastic fibers, or microfibers, into the environment — from their favorite national park to agricultural lands to waters with fish that make it back onto our plates. This has scientists wondering: Are we eating our sweaters' synthetic microfibers? Probably, says Chelsea Rochman, an ecologist and evolutionary biologist at the University of Toronto, St. George. ‘Microfibers seem to be one of the most common plastic debris items in animals and environmental samples,’ Rochman says.” Microfibers Have Become a Very Significant Water Pollutant Indeed, synthetic microfibers make up 85 percent of shoreline debris worldwide,3 and tend to be found in higher concentrations in beach sediment near waste water treatment plants.4 Water testing done by the Rozalia Project also showed microfibers are showing up in most water samples collected from the Hudson River.5 The fibers have also been found in both table salt6 and fish sold for human consumption.7 A 2015 study from the University of California Santa Barbara (UCSB) directly linked microbead plastics and man-made microfibers to the pollution in fish,8 and when Abigail Barrows — chief investigator for Global Microplastics Initiative — sampled over 2,000 marine and freshwater fish, 90 percent had microfiber debris in their bodies. Near identical results have been reported by Amy Lusher, a microplastics researcher based in the U.K. who co-authored a study9 on microplastic pollution in the Northeast Atlantic Ocean, published in 2014. There really does not appear to be any place on Earth that remains unspoiled by plastic pollution. As Abby Barrows, a microplastics researcher for Adventurers and Scientists for Conservation told The Washington Post:10 “Working in this field of research … can be really depressing. I open up a box of water — it’s from some beautiful place in Palau, and it’s just full of plastics. Or it’s from Antarctica, and I think there’s definitely not going to be anything in here. And it’s just full of fragments. I haven’t seen a sample that doesn’t contain an alarming amount of plastic.” Microfibers Are Also a Potential Food Contaminant Microfibers, which are more prevalent than microbeads (found in face scrubs and similar items), are particularly detrimental as the fibers are easily consumed by fish and other wildlife, accumulating in the gut and concentrating in the bodies of other animals higher up the food chain. In one study, microfibers raised mortality among water fleas.11 In another, the presence of fibers were found to reduce overall food intake of crabs, worms and langoustines (aka Norway lobster),12,13 thereby threatening their growth and survival rates. Making matters worse, these microscopic plastic fibers actually soak up toxins like a sponge, concentrating PCBs, pesticides and oil in ever higher amounts as you move up the food chain. Factors That Worsen Microfiber Release Tests show each washing of a synthetic fleece jacket releases an average of 1.7 grams of microfiber, and may release as much as 2.7 grams.14,15,16 For comparison, a paperclip weighs about 1.5 grams. The older the jacket, the more microfibers are released,17 and lower quality generic brand fleece was also found to shed 170 percent more over its lifespan than higher quality fleece. Separate research18,19 published in Marine Pollution Bulletin found that the type of fabric also makes a difference in the rate of microfiber shed. In a comparison of acrylic, polyester and a polyester-cotton blend, acrylic was the worst, shedding microfibers up to four times faster than the polyester-cotton blend. Different types of washing machines may also release different amounts of fibers (and chemicals) from your clothes. Tests show top loading machines release about 530 percent more microfibers than front loading models.20 Other factors that can influence the amount of shedding include water temperature, length and agitation strength of the wash cycle and the type of detergent used. Up to 40 percent of these microfibers leave the wastewater treatment plant and end up in the surrounding lakes, rivers and ocean. As reported by Fusion:21 “To get a sense of the macro-scale of this micro-problem, the authors calculated that a city of around 100,000 people could send anywhere from 20 to 240 pounds of microfibers into local waterbodies daily, which averages out to around 15,000 plastic bags.” Potential Solutions To address these problems, scientists are calling for appliance companies to investigate the effectiveness of adding filters to catch the microfibers.22 Wexco is currently the exclusive distributor of the Filtrol 160 filter,23 designed to capture non-biodegradable fibers from your washing machine discharge. The problem with this solution is what becomes of the microfibers when they’re disposed of in landfills (the same issue that is raised if wastewater treatment plants install filters to keep the tiny fibers out of waterways). The fibers may simply end up entering the environment via another route. Another novel potential solution — a waterless washing machine — was developed by Tersus Solutions in Colorado, with funding from Patagonia. It washes clothing using pressurized carbon dioxide instead of water.24 An even simpler strategy would be to wash your fleece and microfiber clothing less often. Patagonia is also looking for mitigating solutions, including product redesign to prevent the shedding of microfibers. Polyester Downfalls Beyond Microfiber Pollution Beyond microfiber pollution, polyester and other man-made materials have many other environmental drawbacks. As previously noted by Environmental Health Perspectives:25 “[P]olyester, the most widely used manufactured fiber, is made from petroleum. With the rise in production in the fashion industry, demand for man-made fibers, especially polyester, has nearly doubled in the last 15 years, according to figures from the Technical Textile Markets. The manufacture of polyester and other synthetic fabrics is an energy-intensive process requiring large amounts of crude oil and releasing emissions including volatile organic compounds, particulate matter and acid gases such as hydrogen chloride, all of which can cause or aggravate respiratory disease. Volatile monomers, solvents and other by-products of polyester production are emitted in the wastewater from polyester manufacturing plants. The EPA [Environmental Protection Agency], under the Resource Conservation and Recovery Act, considers many textile manufacturing facilities to be hazardous waste generators.” Even seemingly innocuous garments like jeans are often produced using a laundry list of toxic chemicals, including perfluorochemicals, phthalates and azo dyes. It’s not only man-made materials that are the problem, however. Even conventionally grown genetically engineered (GE) cotton is problematic due to the cotton industry’s heavy use of hazardous herbicides and insecticides, including some of the most hazardous insecticides on the market. This is one reason why I strongly encourage you to choose organic cotton, organic hemp and/or wool items, ideally colored with nontoxic, natural dyes whenever possible. Organic fabrics will not be genetically engineered and subject to this onslaught of toxic exposures. And, while this will not solve all of the environmental problems related to the garment industry, it's a step in the right direction. Change Starts at Home Benign by Design,26,27 a program created by ecologist Mark Browne in 2013, aims to show clothing companies “exactly how textile wear leads to fiber pollution and ways to control their emissions.” According to the website, the program — which is supported by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) — “developed a trade-off analysis system that rigorously and scientifically selects the most cost effective material with the smallest impact; fabrics that emit fewer fibers and less toxic fibers.” But while some companies are actively investigating ways to produce clothing that is more environmentally-friendly, each and every one of us can contribute to the solution by buying less and becoming more conscious consumers when it comes to clothing. As described in my previous article on “fast fashion,” the entire life cycle of a piece of clothing would ideally be taken into account before buying, as most of your discarded clothes actually end up in landfills, or are resold to third world countries where local clothing industries then suffer instead. Westerners have a tendency to think we're being generous by donating our cast-offs, allowing those with few means to get clothes they might not be able to afford otherwise. The reality is, the second-hand industry is struggling with an overwhelming amount of clothes. They cannot even house it all — which is why charities will only keep donated items in their thrift shops for a month before shipping them off for bulk liquidation. There's simply no shortage of second-hand clothing, so you're not really doing the world any favors by routinely adding to the donation piles. If you really want to make a dent in the problem, give more thought to what you buy in the first place and curb your consumption. Most Americans have enough clothes to outfit entire villages in some other countries. There’s little doubt that many would do well to absorb some of the life-affirming suggestions offered by the minimalism movement. As the director of environmental strategy for Patagonia told CBS in 2015:28 “People need to learn how to buy less and companies need to learn how to be profitable in selling less … Something has to fundamentally shift in the consumption world that reduces the pressure on the raw materials, which reduces pressure on the planet …”